Lessons in Control
Chapter Eight: First Kiss
On Thursday evening, Buffy called with a desperate plea. She had just realized that she had a sociology paper due the following Wednesday and she hadn't even begun her project. Would Willow come over and help?
When Will grabbed her purse and called over her shoulder that she'd be back in a couple of hours, she wasn't surprised to find that Spike had caught up with her before she reached the end of the driveway.
"What took you so long?" she giggled as he put his arm around her.
It wasn't until she was about to knock on the door of the Summers' home that Willow remembered her recent talk with Mrs. Summers. She hadn't told Spike about it, she had completely forgotten about it once she got to LA and was overwhelmed by the dual vamp seduction treatment. Maybe it was for the best; he might be uncomfortable if he knew that Buffy's mom knew what was going on. She had to laugh. Spike - embarrassed? Yeah, right! Like that would happen.
"What's so funny, pet?"
She didn't have time to answer before Buffy opened the door and with a heavily exasperated sigh, pulled her best friend through the door and up the stairs.
"Evening to you, too." Spike said blandly to the their retreating backs. The music coming from the kitchen drowned him out anyway. He pushed the door closed behind him. "Joyce? Dawn?" he called.
"In here, hun" came Joyce's singing reply from the direction of the kitchen.
Spike walked to find Dawn and Joyce doing a rather impressive jive to Bonnie Raitt's 'Real Man'. He jumped up on the counter and enjoyed the show.
Don't want no secret agent
Don't need no long Cadillac
Don't want nobody with no problems
I don't need a man with a monkey on his back
I want a real man
I said a real man
I need a real man
Ain't messing with no toy
I don't need no baby boy
Don't need to send me no flowers babe
Sending flowers is real nice
Way I've been feeling my hearts been a-reeling
I need a man that loves me once
I want a man that loves me twice
Its a sticky situation babe
Keep me up late at night
Honey don't know the difference
Wanna go left when you shoulda gone right
I want a real man
I said a real man
I want a real man
I've been around the world
I'm a woman not a girl
I don't want no million dollars
I don't need no diamond ring
You can twist and shout
For to knock yourself out
I don't care about material things
I want a real man
I need a real man
I want a real man
I said a real man
I want a real man
I need a real man baby
I want a real man
I want a real man
Real man
Real man
His applause was heartfelt, they were very good. He would never have suspected Joyce for a dancer. He knew Dawn could move, he'd danced with her enough at the Bronze and to break up the boredom during research.
Joyce blushed at the attention. After a few deep breaths, she told him, "Thanks, it's been a long time. That should be my theme song."
"Ah," Spike teased, raising a scarred eyebrow. "Now I know the real reason you don't date. Hate to tell you this, Joyce, but I'm the last one left." After a thoughtful pause, he added, "So to speak."
The women laughed and Spike pulled Joyce into his arms as Bonnie started singing, 'You Got It'.
The next three and a half hours were spent laughing, dancing and singing to Bonnie Raitt music - with liberal hot chocolate breaks. Dawn and Spike held competitions seeing who could stuff more mini-marshmallows into a cup. The rule was that there had to actually be enough liquid chocolate left in the cup that Joyce could take at least one sip. Dawn won every time and Spike vowed that he would study Red's physics books to find the secret to the liquid absorption rate of marshmallow.
When Buffy got a handle on how to go about her research for her report - Willow refused to do it for her no matter how much she begged, the girls came down to the kitchen to find Joyce washing mugs, Dawn drying them and Spike putting them back in the cupboard. Spike was also serenading them with 'Angel from Montgomery'.
Buffy hadn't known that Spike could sing, but from the happiness shining from Willow's face, she guessed that this wasn't a secret to her friend. Buffy couldn't help but be impressed. He really had a beautiful voice. And hey - somebody to listen to her mom's boring Bonnie Raitt cd's - somebody that wasn't her - had to be thankful for that, right? Maybe Spike did have redeeming qualities; maybe she should cut him a break occasionally.
Nah.
"So, Mom? Found another old person to listen to your Bonnie music with, huh? Cool. Now you'll leave me out of it," she said happily.
Willow turned on her, "Hey! I happen to like Bonnie Raitt."
"You do?" Buffy was surprised.
"Yes, doofus," her sister was happy to correct her. "Me, Mom and Will listen to this stuff all the time, but where are you? Oh, that's right," she said in mock innocence, "Out slaying dangerous nasty vampires!" she screamed and jumped into Spike's arms to give him a sisterly hug.
"Hey, Bit - vampires are nasty things and you know it. Don't let this fool you. I've been spending the last," his eyes rolled up as he thought, "fourteen months insinuating myself into your good graces so that I can have myself a great big banquet one night soon," he joked.
Dawn rolled her eyes, then kissed his cheek, "Yeah, right, Fangface." She jumped down. "Bedtime." She turned and offered her neck to Spike, "Want a snack?"
Everybody laughed, Joyce swatted Dawn's behind with the dishtowel and she went up to bed.
"On that note -" and Willow took Spike's hand, "Let's go, Fangface."
"Night all." They walked into the living room as Buffy started to detail her assignment for her mom.
When the lovers had closed the kitchen door, Willow turned to her own personal vampire and asked, "Want a snack?" in a kidding voice.
When his hands ran down her sides that sent chills down her spine, she stopped laughing. His hands continued to her hips and around to cup her bottom as he lifted her. Her legs wrapped around his waist and his fangs slowly descended. She watched in awe as his demon face emerged. She loved this and he knew it.
He was always amazed that this sweet and innocent looking girl could be so accepting of a demon. The first time he had changed in front of her at Giles apartment, not long after he got the soddin' chip, he saw her watching him and smelled her arousal. That was what made him think he might have a chance with her. He had made excuses to be near her before that, but after her reaction to his true face, he stopped making excuses. He just made himself her shadow. Nobody seemed to mind, least of all Willow.
It seemed that all of them already knew something he had never suspected. The first time he had come to Sunnyhell, even though he and Dru had been trying to kill them all, his redhead had been openly fantasizing about the new 'Big Bad', laced with lots of 'what ifs' that had to do with the disappearance of Drusilla and the addition of a soul like Angel's. Thank the demon he hadn't gotten a bloody soul - no sex with Red, being the first and foremost drawback - but he had been cursed/blessed with the chip instead.
He wined her, he dined her, he saved her life - and nothing. She never made the least sign that she might be interested. But he could smell her. He knew, even if she wouldn't take any of his hints. One night as they patrolled he decided this was it, either she responded to him tonight or he would give up. He led the patrol toward his crypt and asked her to stop in so he could grab a bag of blood for the road.
He led her into his 'kitchen' and lifted her to sit on the table while he heated his mug. When the demon face emerged, he smelled her again. Stronger than ever. He drank the blood down in one long gulp, then turned toward her as he licked his lips clean. When her mouth gaped open, he seized the moment and assaulted her mouth with his own. He had forgotten to retract his fangs but her moan as they cut into her lip made him reconsider withdrawing them. Then he decided that he wanted the first time with her to be as romantic for her as possible.
When he pulled back to let her catch her breath, his blue eyes saw her smile. "Mine," he told her and she nodded.
"Always," he informed her and she said, "Yes."
When he took her lips this time, he was both all-consuming and tender. She held onto him as if she would die without him and he felt as if his dead heart had started beating again. He wouldn't stop kissing her. He couldn't. His body responded, hardened and strained, but he couldn't give up this feeling. The rest would come, but right now he - they - took their time tasting each other's lips, learning the feel of each other's mouths. Their hands stayed relatively restrained; they didn't know why, but they restricted their touches to arms, necks, faces, hair and backs.
Sometimes he took the lead, sometimes she did, which surprised and pleased him. As their lips caressed each other's, their hands wandered. Willow couldn't wait to touch his hair; she had dreamt about this hair for over two years and was elated to find it was even softer than she had imagined. It felt like cornsilk, she should have guessed - that's what it looked like too.
He rested his hands on her face first. With his palms on her cheeks and fingers splayed around her ears and through her hair, he let his thumbs linger near her lips - he wanted to absorb as much of this moment as he possibly could. Feel her kissing him in every way he could, making it more real. Savor her taste on his tongue, feel her softness on his lips, let the tips of his thumbs feel their lips as they touched. He kept expecting to wake up.
They spent the entire night like that, him standing, her sitting in the kitchen of his crypt, kissing and touching each other like fourteen year olds on their first date. When the first strains of a bird's song came, they looked up to see that the sun was rising. He took her hand and led her down to his bedroom below the mausoleum. They nestled together on the bed, under the covers but both fully clothed, and fell into the most contented sleep either had ever had. They were together always after that. Every night for months was spent the same way - kissing, touching, then sleeping. Sex didn't come until - but that's a story for another time.
Right now, Willow was relishing the feel of Spike's fangs descending into her throat. The feel of his tongue and lips drawing the blood from her body. Feeding him. Spike had settled them on the Summers' sofa, with Willow straddling his hips, one arm around his neck, the other holding his head in place, wanting him to make it last.
In the kitchen, Buffy and Joyce decided to go to bed, but when Joyce started into the living room and saw the intimate scene, she didn't want to interrupt and convinced Buffy that they could both do with a walk before bed, and headed out the kitchen door.