Chapter 5 – Where You Gonna Run?
Buffy called her mom from a payphone at the library. It was a little after 4:00, but no one answered the phone. Joyce was probably still on her way home. Buffy left a message saying she'd be over at Xander's watching movies. She hung up and went back to the overstuffed chair and the pile of fashion magazines she'd been losing herself in since running out on her friends and Spike.
Spike. Buffy was no closer to figuring out what to do about him and these feelings for him she still had. Bad feelings. Because they were about Spike. And not about Riley. She leaned her head against the back of the chair and covered her face with the latest Cosmo.
"Buffy?"
Buffy sat up quickly, the magazine sliding down into her lap. "Giles?"
Giles had an extremely puzzled look on his face. "I had no idea you even knew Sunnydale had a public library."
"What? I read. Sometimes. For fun! Yes. I read for fun."
Giles's look changed from puzzled to skeptical. "You--Buffy Summers-- read for fun."
Buffy turned the magazine towards him. "And look! Pretty pictures."
Giles sat in the chair next to hers. "Seriously, Buffy. What are you doing here?"
"Can't a girl hang out at her local library?"
"Most girls, yes. You, no."
Buffy sighed. "You got me, Giles. I'm being all class=SpellE>avoidy . Some strange—things—have been happening to me lately. I asked Willow to find out why. I didn't like her answer. So I ran away like a little running away Buffy."
"Shall I ask what things in particular?"
"No offense, but I really don't want to go into it. Nothing Slayer related. Suffice it to say, I've gotta figure it out on my own. But thanks for caring." Buffy smiled at him.
"Of course I care, Buffy. I always care."
"Thanks, Giles. That means a lot to me. And I hope you know that if I need Giles-style helpage , I'll be knocking on your door."
"I have no doubt." Giles stood. "I'll let you get back to your 'reading'."
"Don't forget the pretty pictures."
"How could I?" Giles touched her shoulder. "Shall we train tomorrow? We really need to address the way you consistently drop your shoulder."
"I so do not! But yes, let's train."
"See you then."
"Bye, Giles."
He nodded and left. But the sanctuary feel to the place was gone for Buffy. She actually had no intention of spending the evening watching movies in Xander's basement—at least not this evening. Instead, Buffy felt a decisive need for some alcoholic libations. Drowning her sorrows in cups of frosty nectar. That sounded like just the thing to do. The bar off campus didn't card. She'd head over there.
She ignored the voice in her head that screamed "alcohol and Buffy baaaad " and stacked the magazines neatly. She checked her watch. By the time she walked over there, happy hour would be starting. Two-for-one drinks and free pretzels. What more could a girl ask for?
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The bar was filling up. With school starting in a week and a half, a lot of the students were moving back into town and looking for entertainment. After only two margaritas, Buffy was finding nearly everything damn entertaining. Especially the guys throwing darts over in the corner. They couldn't hit the bull's-eye if they walked right up to it and poked the dart in there. Buffy pushed off her stool and decided to show them how it was done.
"Hi, boys," she said, walking up to them. They looked at each other and then turned to her with huge grins on their faces.
"Hey you pretty little thing. Looking for some company?" the taller one asked. His dark-haired, shorter friend laughed.
"Actually, I noticed you can't seem to throw that dart straight to save your life. Want a pointer or two?" Buffy asked.
"Baby," the dark-haired one said, "I'd love to put my pointer in you." He elbowed his friend in the ribs. They both laughed.
Buffy stared at them coolly. "Just give me a dart, Casanova."
"If I do," the taller one said, "will you let me buy you a drink after we play?"
Buffy shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"
He gave her the dart. She could see the doubt on their faces. They were humoring her. Which did humor her. She let the dart fly. It went straight through the bull's-eye and embedded itself far into the wall behind the board.
"Woah ."
"Do that again."
"I want my drink first," Buffy said. This was gonna be fun.
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Three margaritas and seven shattered darts later, Buffy was feeling no pain. She couldn't say the same for the dark-haired guy. His friend had to take him to the emergency room when Buffy lost control of one of the darts and it landed in his shoulder. She was all kinds of apologetic, but the two of them just backed away from her. She didn't realize a guy that big could cry that much.
"Who wants to play me next?" she called out to the crowd. No one stepped forward. Buffy shrugged and aimed for the sad remains of the dartboard. A cool hand grasped her forearm and stopped her throw.
"Think you've hurt the poor board enough for one night, pet," Spike said into her ear.
Buffy swung around. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Free country, last I checked. Actually, I was looking for you."
"Well, look somewhere else," Buffy said. She pushed his hand off her arm.
"Willow and Tara are worried about you, Slayer. The way you ran off this morning."
"Yeah, well. I think they're wrong. There is some kind of a spell on me. I know there is. Or I wouldn't be thinking about you all the time!" She dropped the dart to the floor and raised her fingers to his lips. "I think about your mouth. How it feels on mine. How it would feel on other parts of me."
Spike's eyes darkened. He got very still despite the noise and bodies surrounding them.
Buffy took his hand and fit it to her own. "I think about your hands. You have really nice hands. I like the way they touch me. I like the things they make me feel."
Spike bit his lip. His hand grasped hers.
Abruptly, Buffy pulled away. "So see? It has to be a spell. Because you stand for everything I'm against, Spike. You're a killer, you're soulless and you're evil. I'm supposed to stake you—chip or no chip. Yet all I want to do is this." She grabbed his face and kissed him. She could taste his last cigarette and was sure he could taste the alcohol on her breath. But she was beyond caring. His mouth. So damn good...
"Outside," he said, pulling back.
Buffy's lips were still parted from the kiss. "Wha?"
"Outside. Now."
He grabbed her hand and dragged her out the front door. Once they were out of the loud and crowded bar, he continued to pull her along behind him until they were on campus. Spike found a tree and pushed Buffy up against it.
"What are you doing?" she asked him.
"I'm gonna fuck you. And you're gonna love it."
He grabbed the hem of her denim skirt and hiked it to her waist. He covered her body with his as his fingers slid under the elastic of her panties.
"Mmm . Wet and ready for me."
Spike pinched her clit gently. Buffy jumped. "Spike, we can't. Spike. Riley's my..." Spike slid a single finger into her and caught her as her legs started to buckle. "Spike, I can't do this with you. You need to stop." She grabbed his wrist.
He looked into her eyes. "Buffy."
Oh God, she was going to regret this in the morning. But at this point and with this much alcohol in her system, she didn't really care. "Okay, Spike," she finally said, releasing his wrist. "Let's do it. Fuck me."
"Even though you're drunk?"
She wrapped her arms around him and bit his earlobe, hard enough to make him groan. "Yeah, even though. Or maybe because. Oh, just come on." She lowered her voice, striving for sexy. "I know you want to."
"Well, not denying that, obviously," Spike said. "Just don't want you staking me tomorrow."
Buffy licked his bottom lip. "Please," she said.
Her "please", so very rare from Buffy, did it. Still holding her against the tree with one arm wrapped around her waist, he used his other hand to undo his belt buckle. Buffy unzipped him while he worked the button. And then he was free and hard and soft all at the same time in Buffy's grip. She squeezed him gently, then harder. His appreciative moan actually made her wetter. Part of Buffy's fuzzy brain realized they were out in the middle of the campus green where anyone could see them. Another part thought, well then, forget the foreplay and get him in me.
Buffy shifted her hips and placed him against the damp silk of her panties. She used him to stimulate her clit before moving her panties aside and positioning him where she needed him. He prodded her a bit and then finally pushed his way inside. The feel of him was overwhelming. Buffy caught her breath.
"Too much?" he asked.
"No, just not used to you."
"Farmer boy a bit smaller then, huh?"
Buffy let that go because Spike's fingers were also beneath her panties now. "Tear them," she said.
"You want me to tear your knickers?"
"Yes. Get them off me. Now."
"Yes ma'am." Spike ripped them down one side so they hung against her other leg, but it didn't matter. He could touch and move in her freely now and they weren't her favorite pair anyway.
Spike pushed into her forcefully, his fingers moving in time with his thrusts.
"Knew you'd feel this way, Slayer. All hot. Muscles grabbing me. Fuck me back, little girl."
Buffy dug her nails into his coat and sunk down as he rose. She never knew she liked it rough, but this hard, fast pounding was bringing her right to the edge.
"Kiss me," Spike said. She did. And then he moved his fingers a certain way and she was coming. Her mouth went slack against his.
Suddenly, Spike turned them and they fell to the grass, still joined. Her legs tightened around him as he drove into her. "Feel it, Buffy? Do you feel me now? So deep..."
Her orgasm over, Buffy could feel her stomach rebelling against the margaritas. And the ground was hard. And Spike was in her. Good God, Spike was in her.
Spike ground his pelvis into hers and let himself go. She could feel his ejaculations pulse into her. His body shook through his release and her body gave off little aftershocks in response. When he finished, he collapsed on top of her.
"God, I haven't..." Spike mumbled into her shoulder.
"You're heavy," Buffy said. "Move."
Spike rolled off of her and zipped up. "So much for the afterglow."
Buffy sat up. "I think I'm gonna be sick."
Spike sat up too. "Oh please. It was a damn fine shag and you know it."
"No, Spike. I really think I'm gonna be sick. Everything's all spinny ."
"Like you're gonna sick up?"
Buffy managed to nod before turning her head and empting her stomach all over the grass. Spike caught her hair and held it away from her face.
"Oh God," Buffy said when there was nothing left in her, "I drank too much."
"Did you eat anything at all?" Spike asked.
"Some pretzels?"
"Stupid bint . Come on. I'll get you home."
Spike stood and grabbed Buffy's elbow to pull her to her feet. "I don't think I can stand," she said, sagging against him.
Spike picked her up and was about to throw her over his shoulder when she stopped him by digging her hands into his hair. "I wouldn't do that. Not unless you want me decorating your trademark coat with bile."
He hesitated only a second before switching her so that she rested in his arms. She held him around his neck to keep from falling. Her stomach hurt and her eyes wouldn't stay open, and soon she felt her head drop to Spike's shoulder.
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"Almost there, pet," she thought she heard him say. But it wasn't until she heard her mother's voice that she raised her head.
"Is she okay?" Joyce asked.
"Don't know about in the morning, but for now, she probably just needs some sleep," Spike said.
"Sleep good," Buffy mumbled. She put her head back on Spike's shoulder.
"Spike, I hate to ask you this, but could you..."
"Sure, Joyce. I'll take her to bed. Uh, to her bed." Buffy nearly laughed.
Spike managed the stairs and made it to her room. He laid her down on the bed and pulled her boots off. Then he pulled her quilt over her.
"Spike," Buffy said as he turned to leave.
"Yeah?"
"I won't stake you tomorrow. Promise."
"Appreciate it, love."
"And thanks for getting me home."
"Sure thing."
Buffy sighed deeply and closed her eyes. The room was still spinning a bit, but she was too tired to try to stop it.
When she opened her eyes again, it was morning.