Chapter 8 – In with the New
Riley was sitting on her front porch. He glanced up at her and then back down at his feet.
"What the hell were you and Spike doing out on the dance floor?" he asked. His voice was flat.
Buffy's stomach sunk. She so didn't want to do this. She sat down next to Riley and ran her hands through her long hair. "When?" she finally asked.
Riley looked at her. "When? How about--at all? Why the hell did you want to dance with him?"
Buffy was confused. "You're just asking why I let Spike dance with me? "
"Is there something else I should be asking?"
"No! No. Nothing else." Especially not about how Spike's shoulders felt under her hands or the way she wanted to pull him closer or how she wanted him to rub harder and make her come...
"So? Do you have an answer?"
Buffy looked up quickly. After a moment, she shifted so she was facing him fully. "Riley. Spike and I have been—patrolling together recently. He's not so bad."
Riley jumped up. "Not so bad? My God! Buffy, he's a vampire! He's killed thousands of people and you're saying he's not so bad?"
"He hasn't killed anyone since he got the chip," Buffy said in a small voice.
"Because of the chip. Without that chip don't you think he'd be out there biting half the necks in Sunnydale?"
"Probably," Buffy said grudgingly. "But he does have the chip and he's not biting anyone." She stuck her chin up. "I think he wants to help."
"The day Spike actually wants to help and doesn't have some ulterior motive will be the day I drop dead," Riley said.
Buffy wrinkled her forehead at that, unsure of how to respond.
Riley stepped down onto the front walk. He turned to look at her. "This conversation isn't going anywhere tonight. I don't know what's going on with you. When you're ready to share it with me, you know where I'll be."
Buffy let him go.
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Joyce got home about an hour later, full of questions about Buffy's weekend and her time with Riley. Buffy neatly sidestepped the big issues and went up to bed.
Sleep was a long time coming, though. She still had to pack; the whole thing with Riley; Spike... It all added up to a nearly sleepless Buffy. Finally, she drifted off.
She knew she was dreaming because Spike was never this gentle with her—and she with him. He slid the strap of her top off her shoulder and down her arm. His lips followed, sending goosebumps down Buffy's neck. His thumb brushed one of her already peaked nipples. Her hands fisted in his soft hair before she drew his head down to her breast. He suckled her softly through the silk as his hand slipped into her pants. Just a little closer, she mentally urged him. Touch me there...
She moved her hips, trying to position his hand just right. Her frustration grew as she ground against him. Why the hell wouldn't he touch her where he knew she needed to be touched? And where was that loud music coming from?
Buffy groaned as she came awake to Britney Spears oopsing that she did it again. Buffy forced herself to stop dry-humping the bed. "Oh God," she said into her pillow before shutting the alarm off.
Buffy!" Joyce called up the stairs. "Xander, Willow and, um, Tara are here!"
Buffy pulled her pillow over her head, trying to calm her body and will the color out of her flushed cheeks. In seconds, someone was banging on her bedroom door.
"Noooo ," Buffy whined. She threw the pillow aside and sat up.
"Rise and shine, Buffster!" Xander boomed as he came into her room. "We've got to get you... Good grief, Buffy. Did you pack at all?"
"Wow, Buffy. What demon did you kill in here?" Willow asked with a smile. Tara gave Buffy a little wave.
"The demon of procrastination," Buffy said, getting out of bed. "Obviously, I lost."
"Well, I see a pattern of piles here. Just tell us what pile's what, pull out the suitcases and boxes and we'll pack while you shower," Willow said, shaking out a shirt she'd found on the floor.
"You guys are too good to me," Buffy said.
"How could I pass up the chance to go through your underwear with your permission?" Xander asked. He held up a pink thong. " class=SpellE>Niiice ."
Buffy grabbed it out of his hand. Xander stepped back. "Okay," he said. "No jokes about the Slayer's unmentionables. Suitcases? Boxes?"
Buffy gratefully showed her friends what to pack and escaped to the bathroom.
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She planned to shower in cold water to make her skin tingle in a completely different way. But once she was under the spray, she figured who would know if she released a little tension? She touched herself. Her clit was still swollen and very sensitive. She rubbed herself slowly, bracing her hand on the cold tile wall. And in her imagination it wasn't her hand doing the touching—it was Spike's. His long, graceful fingers were the ones lightly pinching and teasing. Buffy leaned against the wall and brought her other hand to her breast. She flicked her nipple with a fingernail and the sensation went right to her clit. She sped up her movements, feeling herself getting closer. The image from her dream of Spike's head at her breast pushed her over the edge. She convulsed, cracking her head against the tile, but ignored the pain in favor of the pleasure. Of course, when the pleasure passed, she had to scrub herself extra hard to wash away that pesky feeling of guilt.
Buffy finished showering and quickly dried and dressed herself. A quick blow-dry and a little makeup later, she was ready. She came out of the bathroom to see Tara zipping up a huge black duffle bag. Willow was standing nearby with an armload of clothes still on hangers.
"We are ready to take trip number one," Xander said. Buffy thanked them again and reached for the bag on the bed.
Xander brushed her hand aside. "Allow me," he said. He tried to lift it three times before giving up and turning to the three women who were standing by with amused smiles on their faces. "On second thought--Buffy, why don't you carry that? I'll get a couple of these boxes over here."
"Good idea, Xander," Buffy said, trying hard not to laugh. "Let's do it that way."
With hardly any effort at all, Buffy swung the bag over her shoulder and led the way out of her room.
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After four hours, three trips and lots of unpacking, she and her friends were sharing a pizza on her dorm room floor.
"Anya's not here to be all blunt, so I'll say it. Where's Riley?" Xander asked.
"Long story," Buffy said through a mouthful of cheese.
"Long story?" Willow asked. "Why? Why with the long story?"
"He didn't find out, did he?" Tara asked. Realizing Xander was in the room, she quickly tried to change the subject. "Find out that you're, uh, allergic to—or no, that you're—that you bought him that hammer? Did he?"
Buffy rolled her eyes as Xander frowned at Tara. "What on earth are you talking about?" he asked. "Buffy's allergic to hammers?"
"Uh, no," Willow tried. "He doesn't know that Buffy bought him this totally expensive hammer and he'd be, uh, allergic to the price of it."
Xander grinned. "Okay, is this a joke? What are you keeping from me? And don't tell me it's a hammer." He stopped for a second. "Wait. It's not Riley's birthday, is it? Is it Riley's birthday and I completely forgot? Anya's supposed to remind me of these things. Damn. I don't have anything for him."
"No. Not his birthday," Buffy said. "It's a—hammer of affection. Yep. Good old affection-showing hammers. Gotta love them."
Willow stood up. "We'd better go. Miss Kitty Fantastico needs her Fancy Feast."
Buffy quickly wiped her hands on a napkin and stood too. "And I've got to go buy my books."
Xander gathered up the trash. "Ahn's meeting me in my basement. I guess I'll go hang out there."
"Thanks, you guys. You've been great. You have no idea how much I appreciate all this." Buffy said.
"We Scoobies need to stick together," Xander said.
Buffy heard Tara whisper to Willow, "Did he call me a Scooby?", as she walked them to the door. As they left, Willow mouthed "Call me". Buffy nodded absently and waved them down the hall.
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Buffy lugged a load of textbooks back to her room and dumped them on her bed. Why on earth had she taken World Philosophy? Seven books for that class alone! She sat down and started leafing through the books. Soon she was distracted by thoughts of the previous night. Would Spike have gone any further if she hadn't stopped him? And what the hell had possessed her to agree to a Wednesday night fuckfest? It was like she didn't know herself anymore. Like something inside her had broken loose.
She shook herself out of her thoughts long enough to realize that the sun was setting and her stomach was growling. Loudly. She gave her mom and quick call and then tried to decide what to do for dinner. Another shower first, she thought, to clean off the grime from moving.
Buffy had finished undressing and was pulling on a short pink robe when there was a knock on her door. Was it Riley? She hadn't heard from him all day. He did know she was moving. She went to the door, dreading having another "talk" with him.
But it wasn't Riley. A very smug-looking Spike stood there instead. "Hello love," he said. "You know me. All impatient and whatnot. Couldn't wait until Wednesday. Care to let me in?"