All About Spike - Plain Version
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Chapter: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15
PAIRING: Spike/Willow. Spike/Buffy, Spike/Tara implied
RATING: NC-17 overall
SPOILERS: Season 6 through “As You Were”.
DISCLAIMER: All hail Joss Whedon, UPN, the WB, FOX, Mutant Enemy and 20th
Century Fox Film Corporation. GO team! Theirs, not mine.
DISTRIBUTION: Please ask my permission first, just so I know where it’s
FEEDBACK: Sure, fire away to email@example.com
The flames from the fire crackled and sparked as we sank down in front of
the hearth. I’d lain down my duster on the stone floor. “This isn’t very
comfortable, kitten,” I said as I licked her collarbone. “We could put the
coat on the bed, get the same effect without the bruising.”
“We have to be in front of the fire,” Willow said. “That’s the fantasy. On
the coat, in front of a nice big fire.” She scratched her nails down my
spine, and I bit down on her shoulder, making her moan.
“What’s the point of the fire, really?” I asked as I gently kissed her jaw.
“If I’m not up to snuff, you throw me in the fire, and burn me to cinders?”
She put her lips to mine, shutting me up. I slid inside her, and she closed
her eyes and lay back against the duster. She was glorious in the
firelight, all shadow and flame. She grabbed my hips in her hands and
guided me faster, forcing me to thrust her into the floor with each stroke.
I stopped. “We can’t do this here, Red. You’re going to look like I beat
you with a stick if keep fucking you into the stones.”
“If I feel like I’m getting banged up too much, I’ll roll over and you can
be on the bottom, “ she said, laughing.
“Very considerate to your lover,” I teased. “Doesn’t matter if I batter
myself black and blue, as long as I bring you off, is that it?”
“You’re resilient. You can take a little damage,” she said, as she sank her
teeth into my nipple. I wrapped my arms around her and held her close,
cradling her to my chest as I moved within her. I took all the stress of
the movement on my elbows, keeping the brunt off of her. She was starting
to come already, I could feel her muscles tightening, see it in her face.
She was the most orgasmic partner I’d ever had, popping off nearly as soon
as I touched her. It was gratifying, to be wanted so badly.
I licked her neck, running my tongue over the holes that I’d left when I’d
bitten her. “Bite,” she cried, and I bit her carefully, barely nipping her.
She turned her head towards me as she came, and I gently kissed her, as she
held me tightly. She pulled away, gasping, and I kissed her eyelids, her
forehead, and her lips. I kept moving inside her, keeping a slow pace,
waiting for her to wind down from her orgasm. “So good,” she said, and
tears rolled out of the corners of her eyes. I licked one into my mouth,
savoring the salty taste.
“I’m going to roll you on top now,” I told her, “but I don’t want you to
move. Just let me.” I carefully spun us around, so that she was on top of
me, my cock still firmly within her. I held her hips in my hands and lifted
her up, moving her up and down my shaft. Her head was thrown back, her eyes
still shut, and her breasts thrust forward as she rose and fell. I
increased the pace steadily, and soon we were rocking together wildly as
she stared down at me, her eyes blazing green as she came again, crying out
my name. I broke my control and let loose my orgasm, coming in a series of
sharp crests before crashing down, breathless.
Willow had collapsed on my chest, her red hair spilling over my skin. I ran
my hands through it, and she looked up and smiled. “You going to tell me
that I was okay again? Or do I rate adequate, or satisfactory this time?” I
“Spine tingling,” she said. “Smashing.” She put on a horrible Giles-y
accent. “A jolly good time.”
“One day I’m hoping for excellent, or amazing,” I told her.
“Practice makes perfect,” she said with a grin. I leaned down and kissed
her, savoring the taste of her mouth, and the feel of her hair in my hands.
“Come to bed with me,” I told her huskily. “We can practice some more.” I
kissed down her neck. “You can be my tutor, and help me bone up on my
education.” I thrust my pelvis at her and we both laughed.
“I have to go home,” she said as she pulled away. She stood up and pulled
on her skirt.
“You can stay with me,” I said. “I don’t snore. I’ll make you breakfast in
She fastened her bra and pulled her sweater over her head. “I don’t have
pajamas here, or a robe, or a toothbrush,” she said. “I need to go home.”
“You can sleep naked,” I suggested. “More fun anyway.”
She sat down on the ottoman and pulled a sock on. It was rainbow striped
and had toes. I sat up and took the other one away from her. “Your socks
have toes,” I said in wonderment. “What’s the point?”
“They’re fun,” she said, wriggling her multicolored toes at me.
I slipped the other sock on my hand and wiggled it at her. “Stay the
night,” I said in a silly voice.
“I can’t, Mr. Sock,” she said solemnly. “I have to go home.”
“There are evil beasties outside,” said the sock puppet. “You should stay
inside where it’s safe and warm.”
“Good thinking, sock. Stay inside with the nice, cuddly vampire.” She took
the sock off my hand and put it on her foot.
“I can be cuddly,” I told her. “I may be evil, but I can still fancy a
snuggle after a shag, you know?”
“Not tonight,” she said firmly.
“Is this some modern girl rule that I’m not clued in on?” I asked. “I slept
in your bed last night, all platonic and friendly and now we’ve had sex,
I’m not good enough to sleep with?”
“Maybe another time,” she said. She put on her boots and crossed her legs.
“Is there going to be another time?” I asked her. “Because you seem to be
pretty fixated on getting the hell away from me about now.”
She knelt down on the floor and grazed my lips with hers. “Spike, we’ve had
sex four times tonight.” She kissed me gently. “You bit me twice.” She
kissed me more firmly, her tongue licking inside my mouth. “You outed us to
my best friend after my parents caught us sucking face.” She kissed me yet
again, thrusting with her tongue. “I think you’re sweet, and wonderful, and
you’re absolutely amazing in bed.” We kissed ardently, with her gripping my
shoulders and my holding her just as tightly. “But right now I want to
relax, and think things through, and sleep. If I stay the night with you, I
won’t be able to do that.” She kissed me once more on the lips and stood
I gave in to the inevitable and pulled on my clothes and boots. I lifted my
duster from the floor and pulled it on. I took her hand and we walked out
to the garage. I let her in the car and slid behind the wheel. By the time
we reached Buffy’s house, she was asleep. She was totally crashed out, her
mouth slightly open, sleeping with the depth of true exhaustion.
I walked around the car and pulled her out, carrying her in my arms up to
the house. The door was unlocked so I went on inside. There was a light on
in the kitchen but the rest of the house was dark. I made my way up the
stairs to Willow’s room. I took off her boots and hat and tucked her into
bed, leaning over to kiss her on the forehead.
I closed the door gently behind me and turned around to find Buffy standing
behind me. “You’re not staying the night?” she whispered. I shook my head
no. “Do you want to have a cup of tea?” I nodded and followed her down the
We went into the kitchen and she put on a kettle of water and pulled two
mugs out of the cabinet. “Do you want Earl Grey, Sleepytime or Lemon
Zinger?” she asked.
“Sleepytime,” I told her. She was wearing a long white nightgown, her hair
back in a ponytail. She looked very fragile, and innocent, stripped of her
usual attitude and armor.
She sat down at the counter and looked at me thoughtfully. “I want to talk
to you about Willow.”
“What a surprise. I should have known you couldn’t be around me for more
than a minute without busting my balls.” It came out more sharply than I
intended, and she looked taken aback. “I’m sorry. That was rude.” I took a
deep breath. “I’m trying to remember how to have a civil conversation with
you. We were able to do it, once upon a time.”
“It would be nice, if we could get back to that point,” she said. “I used
to really enjoy our talks.”
“Let’s try this again, shall we?” She smiled at me, and I smiled back.
“Thanks for asking me to tea, Buffy. What did you want to talk about? Can I
hazard a guess and say Willow?”
She laughed quietly. “I’m trying very hard to be rational about this,” she
said. “And I can understand why she’d want to date you. Willow is a lover.
She has a heart as big as the world, and no one to share it with. I think
for her it’s like finding a stray dog in the street and loving it because
no one else will.”
“That’s a very flattering analogy, Buffy,” I said wryly. “But what we have,
it’s not love. It’s barely anything yet. It’s just-“ I waved my hands in
the air, searching for the right words.
“Sex?” said Buffy. I looked at her oddly. “We’re adults. We can use the
I shook my head. “That’s just a part of it,” I told her. “I was with you,
and we had lots of sex, but we didn’t do anything else. No dinner and a
movie, no holding hands walking in the park, you know? And Tara and I, we
set up house together. That was like getting married, without the sex or
arguments. And Willow and I-“ I stopped.
“And you and Willow?” she asked.
“We’re friends, first of all. We can talk to each other, and tell the truth
about everything. We had sex and it didn’t change that. We can still talk
to each other, still be honest. It didn’t kill the friendship. She wants to
spend time with me, and is willing to be seen with me. I can take her out
in public, and kiss her, and hold her hand. And I can take her home, and we
can sleep together, and it’s not about fear or guilt or pain. It’s about
sex and pleasure. That’s dating. The liking and the shagging and the doing
things, all together.”
“But why Willow, Spike? Couldn’t you date someone else?”
“I like her, and she likes me. I don’t see what’s so wrong about it.”
“Well, for starters, you’re both still in love with another woman,” Buffy
pointed out. “The same woman.”
“So we should both just pine alone, miserable and suffering, instead of
being with the one other person in the world that understands?”
“Sex should mean something,” she said. “It’s not a recreational activity,
like playing bingo or shuffleboard. It’s about feelings, about being with
someone on a deeper level.”
“That’s pretty hypocritical, coming from you.” I was suddenly furious. “I
know first hand that you have no problem operating sexually on a very
“That’s just not true,” she said angrily. “What we had meant something to
“That’s the first I’ve heard of it, Buffy, “ I yelled. “That’s the merest
glimmer you’ve ever given me that I was more to you than a good fuck.”
She cupped her hand over her face. I went to her, patting her shoulders.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m so sorry.” She started to cry, and I picked her
up and sat down on the floor, cradling her. She cried for a long time, and
I just held her tightly and hoped she would tell me why.
“I loved you,” she said finally.
“You don’t have to say it, love,” I said, stroking her hair. “I don’t need
to hear it if it hurts you so.”
“You remember when you told me that every Slayer has a death wish?” she
“Of course I do, sweetheart,” I answered.
“It was true,” she said. “After my mom died, all I wanted to do was let go.
I didn’t want to deal with my life, with any of it. Being a Slayer, caring
for Dawn, being strong for all the Scoobies. I just wanted some peace. I
just wanted to sleep, sleep forever.” I felt sick, just hearing her say it.
“When I jumped off the tower, I didn’t want to save the world. I was
thinking of Dawn, of saving her. But mainly, I just wanted to stop the
“I didn’t know,” I told her, stunned. “None of us knew.”
“I didn’t want you to know,” she said. “I was supposed to be the hero. I’m
supposed to be the one everyone else can count on.”
“Buffy, no one expects you to be perfect,” I said firmly.
“I have to be perfect,” she said. “If I’m not, then people die.” She
paused. “I hated everyone so much, when they brought me back. I wanted to
kill them all. I thought about it, about snapping Willow’s neck, smothering
Xander,” she said flatly.
“Stop it, Buffy,” I said to her. “Don’t dwell on this. This will only hurt
She ignored me and continued, ”You, and Giles, and Dawn. You were the only
“They brought you back because they love you,” I told her. “None of us
would ever have imagined that you wouldn’t want to come back.”
“I loved death,” she said. “It was the happiest I’ve ever been.” She looked
into my face. “And when I looked at you, when I made love with you, it was
close. I could feel it in you. It was as close as I could get to dying, and
the only time I felt happy.” She pressed her hand over my heart. “I don’t
have to deal with life when I’m with you. You’re not part of life, you’re
something apart from it.”
I shuddered. “You meant it literally,” I said. “When you said I was killing
you. I made you turn your back on life.”
“You said I’d crave you, like you craved blood,” she said. “You were
“I didn’t mean it that way,” I told her. “I wanted you in the shadows with
me, embracing your own power as a Slayer, acknowledging that there is
something primal within you. I never wanted you to hope for death, or to
see it in me.”
“I used to love it when you bit me,” she said. “I used to imagine that
you’d change, and sink your teeth into my neck, and I would die.”
“I would never kill you, Slayer,” I told her. “I’d sooner stake myself.”
“I know that now,” she said. “I know you’d never hurt me. And I need to
stop craving death, if I’m going to live. It’s hurting all of you,” she
said. “Especially Dawn. And I really want to feel good again, to be myself
“We all want that for you,” I told her. “We all love you so much.”
She rested her head on my shoulder, and lay there for a minute, letting me
pat her back. “After I spoke to Richard yesterday, I called Giles.” She
paused. “He gave me the name of a psychiatrist here in Sunnydale who
wouldn’t lock me up if I told the truth. Richard waited for me in the
waiting room for three hours, while I spoke to Dr. Locklet.”
“Richard’s a very good guy, Buffy,” I told her. “He really cares for you.”
“I’m going to go see Dr. Locklet twice a week, and I’m taking medication
now,” she said. “She said that I’m not insane. I’m suffering from post
traumatic stress disorder, and I’m going to be alright.”
Thank God. Thank God she’d figured it out, and finally wanted to be herself
again. “If there is anything that I can for you,” I told her, “I want to
know. I want to help you.”
“I’ll let you know,” she said. “I can’t be the hero anymore, not by myself.
I need some help.”
“I’ve got your back, Slayer,” I told her. “Always.” She put her arms around
me, and hugged me tightly, for the first time.
I woke before dawn, alone in my bed. I felt tired and restless, like I
hadn’t slept at all. Since the night that I’d found Tara at the diner, this
was the first night that I’d spent alone. I wished I’d been able to
convince Willow to stay the night. I thought about Red and smiled. I loved
being with her, the way that she made me laugh, her sense of fun. It was
good to see her out of her doldrums. And her being with me, wanting me, was
something I hadn’t seen coming.
I got out of bed and turned the water on in the bathroom. I went to the
linen closet and pulled it open. It was filled with things that reminded me
of Tara. I ran my hands along the bottles and towels, imagining I could
feel her touch on them. I pulled down a bottle of shampoo and a towel.
I leaned over the tub and wet my hair. I filled my hands with shampoo and
rubbed it into my scalp. It smelled like Tara, the chamomile scent of her
hair. I rubbed my hair vigorously, feeling it foam up under my hands. I
rinsed out my hair, watching the brown dye run down the drain. Posing as a
real boy, with a nice blue suit and a corsage in a box. I’d made a mockery
of myself. No wonder Tara had left.
I washed my hair over and over until the water ran clear. I put the stopper
in the tub and filled it, the tap twisted all the way to hot. I went to the
kitchen and got a plastic bag and the dishwashing soap. I went to the linen
closet and threw out everything that reminded me of her. In the bathroom, I
tossed out the soap in the dish, the soap that had slid over her body. I
threw the bag in the hallway, so that I wouldn’t have to smell the scent of
I got in the tub with the dishwashing soap. I rinsed my hair with it,
dunking my head under the water until all I could smell was lemons. I
washed my body and slid under the water. Soothing, peaceful, tranquil.
Like Tara. Why had she done this to me? Four days with her, and she’d given
me a life that had some meaning, and then taken it away. I understood that
she was afraid to let out her demon. But we would have been together, and
happy. Why would she rather be alone and miserable?
I’d liked having someone to take care of, someone who needed me. I’d taken
care of Dawn when Buffy was gone, and then I hadn’t been needed by anyone,
unless you counted my stint as Buffy’s personal sexbot. I wanted someone of
my own to love. I’d taken care of Drusilla for all those years, and it had
been good. Better than anything. If I hadn’t chosen Buffy over her, I could
be with her now. I never would have gone through any of this. But then I
thought of Angel. I’d always been the runner up there, always known that
Dru’s heart really belonged to Daddy, as much as she seemed to love me.
Was it so much to ask for love? Was there something wrong with me, which
all these women could sense, that I didn’t know about? Something inside me
that made me unworthy, made me undeserving of love? It wasn’t just my
demon. My whole human life, the only one who had ever loved me was my
I’d never been enough to make her happy, either. I could never make her
happy, no matter what I tried. I understood that she was afraid, lived
cowering in fear that I’d die, too, like my father and my brothers had. All
her hours of prayer, her devotion to God, and all she had to show for it
was one weak, sickly boy. The only time she ever smiled was when she was
remembering the good days, before I was born, or when I read her my poetry.
“You’re a good boy, William,” she’d say with a smile. “Someday you’ll be a
great poet, like your father.”
She was wrong. I wasn’t a good boy and I’d never become a great poet. And
given a century more to exist on this earth, I had done nothing with my
life, left no legacy. Save that of William the Bloody, and that name had
been made before I’d been dead a year. Lapdog. That’s all I’d been. Willing
slave to women, always begging for a crumb, always left starving in the
I wanted to be in love, and be loved. Just like any other man. Buffy had
only loved the silence she found in me. Dru had loved the hardness in me,
and Tara had loved the gentleness. But none of them had stayed. I didn’t
know what I could be, how I could change, to be the kind of man that made a
The Scoobie invasion began just after nine. Anya and Xander were the first
to arrive. Anya carried a large binder covered in white fabric and ribbons
and Xander held a large umbrella over their heads. “Good morning,” I said.
“I’m making omelets.”
Xander looked at me angrily. “I don’t want an omelet, buddy. I want to talk
to you.” He shook out the umbrella, scattering water everywhere.
“I’d like one,” Anya said, as she put down her binder on the ottoman and
took off her raincoat.
“Ham and cheese alright, or peppers and onions?” I asked, as I hung up her
“Ham and cheese would be nice,” she said. “And don’t even go there, Xander.
Just let it lie.”
“This thing with Willow,” he said, ignoring her. “What the hell are you
“If you want to bitch me out, you can do it while I’m cooking.” I walked
into the kitchen and he followed behind me. I opened the refrigerator and
set the eggs on the counter, adding a stick of butter and the ham and
cheese. I turned the stove on low flame and put the skillet on the burner.
I cracked open the eggs in a bowl and whipped them with a whisk.
“I didn’t know you knew how to cook,” he commented.
“Tara bought me a cookbook,” I explained. “With pictures and everything.”
“That’s a good lead in for what I wanted to talk about,” he said. “Tara
left you yesterday morning and last night you’re with Willow? What the hell
are you thinking?”
“I already had the Grand Inquisition about this from Buffy,” I told him.
“And I’m really tired of discussing my personal life.”
“Well, I’m sorry if you’re all talked out,” he said sarcastically, “but we
are going to have a conversation about this because there are some things
that are very important that you understand, okay?” I turned and looked at
him. He was really trying to keep his temper. “I have loved Willow since
she was three years old. I have the right to be worried about this.”
“Fair enough,” I said. “Say what you have to say.”
“First of all, she told me that what you have is nothing serious, that
you’re just dating. But I’m not buying that.” He looked at me. “I saw her
neck, Spike. She let you bite her. That indicates to me a level of trust
that is way more than casual. Secondly, she slept with you. Willow doesn’t
just have sex. It’s not something that she would ever do lightly. Whatever
she told you about it being a fling or just for fun, I’m betting that’s
bullshit. And thirdly, she’s battling an addiction.”
“I don’t buy that,” I said. “What she has is a problem discerning black,
white and gray magic. Magic isn’t bad, her judgment is bad.”
“Precisely,” he said. “Her judgments right now totally suck. Her being with
you, is just another example of that. She’s starting to get better, get
back to her old self again, and you’re not going to screw that up for her,
Spike. You can’t do that to her.”
“I don’t think you understand what she’s going through,” I said, as I took
out a knife and cutting board and chopped the ham and cheese into small
cubes. “She is sad and lonely and the only things she really cares about
have been taken from her. She can’t have magic and she can’t have Tara.”
“And you’re going to make up for that?” he said. “You’re going to fill the
“I’m going to help her get back into Wicca and I’m going to be there for
her any way she needs,” I said. “That’s something no one else can do.” I
put a pat of butter in the pan and moved it around in the skillet, waiting
for it to turn golden and bubble, like the picture in the book.
“You need to stop trying to save everyone else and just worry about
yourself,” he said. “You tried to fix Tara’s life and now you’re trying to
fix Willow’s. You need to get a life of your own.”
“That’s what Tara said to me,” I told him. “Right before I felt her demon
for the first time, before things began to change between us.” I poured the
eggs in the skillet, tossing in the ham and cheese.
“You’re on the rebound,” he said distinctly. “Twice over. Willow told me
about Buffy. That puts an even worse slant on things. You used Tara to get
past Buffy and now you’re using Willow to get past Tara. It’s just layer
upon layer of distraction so that you’re not feeling what’s really going
“I’m making my peace with Buffy,” I said. “And Willow knows the score. She
knows that Tara leaving scraped away whatever finer feelings I might have
had to give. I haven’t promised her anything, haven’t given her any reason
to think that what we have will become something more than it is.”
“Then stop sleeping with her,” he said vehemently. “Because I know Willow,
and I guarantee you that when you tell her that you want her, or you need
her, she’s hoping that’s just the start of something more. You’re getting
laid. She’s making love.”
Anya walked into the kitchen, followed by Richard and Willow. “I hear
you’re making omelets,” Richard said with a smile.
“I have a ham and cheese one ready,” I told him. “I have peppers and onions
too if you’d rather have that.”
“Ham and cheese is good,” he said.
I flipped the omelet onto a platter and handed it to him. “You and Anya
share that, and if you want more there’s plenty of eggs,” I told him.
“There’s clean plates and silverware in the dishwasher.” Anya took Xander’s
hand and led him to the table. I grabbed glasses from the cabinet and
brought them over to the table with a pitcher of orange juice.
“Do you want an omelet?” I asked Willow.
She shook her head. “I’m not in an eggy mood this morning.”
I walked over to the pantry and poked around inside. “I have Weetabix, and
Trix, and Captain Crunch.”
“But Trix are for kids, Spike,” she said with a grin, slipping her hand
around my waist.
“They were fresh out of Count Chocula,” I told her seriously. “I had to
settle.” She giggled and I leaned over to kiss her. She smelled fresh and
clean and tasted strongly of mint.
“People are eating here,” Xander pointed out. We broke off the kiss and
Willow took the box of Captain Crunch.
“You’re not eating,” she said. “Do you want some cereal?”
“Yeah, alright,” he said. She got a bowl and a spoon for each of them and
the gallon of milk, and sat down at the table.
I pulled out a container of fruit salad from the refrigerator and fixed
myself a bowl. I leaned against the counter as I ate sections of grapefruit
and orange. “I brought the desk back over for you today,” said Richard. “I
don’t need it and it’s no use having that computer sitting on the floor.
And I brought a chair for it too.”
“I’m going to return the computer,” I told him. “There’s no point in
keeping it now.”
“I can think of a whole lot of things you could do with it,” said Willow.
“For starters, there are thousands of web sites about Wicca and Paganism.
There’s tons of stuff you could read, so you don’t have to spend lots of
money on basic books. And if you really get into it, you could meet pagans
all over the world online and chat with them.” She bounced in her seat,
obviously keyed up at the prospect.
“You’re still interested in Wicca?” asked Anya. “I thought that was mainly
a Tara thing.”
“She sparked my interest in it,” I told her. “But it’s more than that now.
I’m going to a Wicca class tomorrow night, and so is Willow.”
Xander looked up sharply. “You’re taking Will to a group with a bunch of
“It’s really sweet,” Willow said. “He’s helping me get back to Wicca. Not
magick and spells, just back to basics.”
“I told her that we could invite you all to come,” I said, looking at
Xander. “Make sure she stays on the straight and narrow, so no one would
have to worry.” He made eye contact with me and nodded.
“Anya and I will come,” he said decisively. “We’ll be there.”
Richard looked thoughtful. “I don’t know anything about Wicca,” he said.
“I’m Catholic. But I’d like to go, learn more about what you believe in.
And I bet Dawn would like to, from some of the things she’s said.”
Willow looked delighted. “That would be really great if we could all go
together. We don’t do enough stuff together anymore.”
Anya finished off her juice and pushed away her plate. “Okay, we’ve wasted
enough time on the chit chat and the eating. We need to fix my wedding,
“It’s just past nine,” Willow said. “We have the whole day to come up with
something. You have Spike, Richard and I at your disposal.”
“And Buffy and Dawn will be here after school is out,” Richard pointed out.
Anya left the room and came back with her binder. “These are all the hotels
and banquet halls in Sunnydale,” she said, handing me a list.
I grabbed a pen from a drawer and flipped over the paper, taking notes.
“How many people are coming to the wedding?”
“People people or demon people?” Anya asked.
“All together,” I said patiently.
“One hundred and twenty five,” she said.
“What time is the minister supposed to come?” I asked.
“Two o’clock, Saturday,” she said.
Next question. “And you have a caterer arranged?”
“I’ve ordered a few platters from the caterer,” she said. “We’re only
serving high tea, to save money.”
“And the cake?” I hoped she had ordered it in advance.
“I’m going to make it this week,” she said. “I bought a book.” Scary
thought. Order cake, I wrote on the sheet.
“Just out of curiosity, Anya, what place did you really have you heart set
on for the wedding?”
“The Pierre,” she said. “But I had to get over it pretty quickly once we
got the quote. Way out of our price range.”
“I have a few ideas,” I told her. “I’m going to get going, see what I can
“Won’t you go poof, running around outside?” Willow said worriedly.
“Not in the rain,” I said with a smile. I took her hand and pulled her out
of her chair. “Walk me out?” She nodded and we went through the house to
the garage. I shut the door behind us, and we moved to each other at the
same time. I leaned down and kissed her, and she wrapped her arms around my
waist, holding me close. She tasted like milk, her mouth sweet and cold. “I
missed you,” I said, as I kissed her on the neck.
She smiled. “I had a really fun time last night.”
“I did too,” I said to her. “If you don’t have any plans tonight, would you
like to go to dinner with me?” She looked up at me. “I was thinking Indian
food,” I told her. “There’s a really good place downtown. We could go
there, maybe catch a movie after?”
“I’d like that,” she said.
There was an awkward pause. “I’d like you to come home with me tonight,” I
said. “I want to take you to bed. Maybe this time you’ll stay the night?” I
She laughed. “You’re a little rusty, Spike. You don’t usually tell your
date up front that you expect to get lucky.”
“Well, I want to have sex with you now, but I’m willing to wait until
later,” I told her.
“That’s big of you,” she said with a grin. “You’re a model of restraint.”
“Not really,” I said. “If there wasn’t a house full of people in there, I’d
be in you already.”
“You’re pretty confident that I’d be up for it,” she said with a smile.
“Playing it cool would be a little more convincing if you weren’t standing
there with nipples hard as gumdrops,” I told her.
“It’s just cold out here,” she parried. “It’s too early in the morning for
me to be interested in sex.” I edged in closer to her.
“I could change your mind,” I told her, cupping her breast. I ran my
fingers over her nipple.
“I don’t think it’s possible. I’m barely conscious,” she said, not giving
an inch. “I haven’t even had my coffee yet.”
“I’m more stimulating than coffee,” I said, running my hands along the
waistband of her pants. She shut her eyes and bit her lip. “I’m pretty sure
that you’d choose me over a hot cup of java any day.” I had her pants
unzipped and two fingers inside her before she could blink her eyes.
“I’d choose you over any beverage,” she said faintly. “Even a Frappucino,
and I really like those.” I covered her mouth with mine, and she was
frantic, kissing me fervently. I pumped my fingers in and out of her,
skimming her clit with my thumb. She came, surging around my fingers as I
held her up so she wouldn’t fall. She went limp, resting against me as she
panted. I pulled my fingers out of her and zipped up her pants. She looked
up at me, her face flooded with color. “Gee whiz,” she said softly.
I sucked on my fingers, savoring the taste of her on my hand. “Gee whiz? Is
that higher on the scale than okay? Am I moving up beyond average now?”
“You really, really need to learn when to shut up,” she said. She shoved
me, and sprawled me backwards on the hood of my car.
“Hey!” I said. “What are you doing that for?” She pulled open my belt and
pulled down my zipper, encasing her mouth around my cock. I moaned and she
slapped her hand over my mouth. She sucked hard, and swirled her tongue
around the head, just the right pressure, just the right timing. I closed
my eyes and saw stars as I came, thrusting forcefully into her mouth.
I lay on the car, totally stunned, as she zipped up my pants and fastened
my belt. She bent over my face and kissed me lightly on the lips. “More
stimulating than coffee,” she said with a grin, as she turned and walked
back into the house.
I walked into the lobby of the Pierre Hotel. It must have been really
opulent once, but the furnishings were outdated, the carpets and wallpaper
beginning to lose their luster. I walked to the front desk, where a thin
elderly man waited, dressed in a flawless suit and tie. “Where could I find
someone to assist me with planning a wedding?”
“That would be Laura in Special Events,” he said with a smile. “Shall I
call her down for you?”
“That would be very kind of you,” I told him.
A few minutes later a young woman wearing a black jacket and pants with a
brass nameplate came around the corner, plastic smile on her face. “I’m
Laura,” she said chirpily. “How may I help you?” I gave her a smile and she
smiled back, genuinely this time.
“I need to plan a wedding,” I told her.
Her face fell. “Oh, a wedding.” She put her plastic smile back on. “Come to
my office and I’ll show you what the Pierre can offer you on your special
day.” I followed her down the hallway through a set of doors, passing by
small windowless offices. “And when were you and your bride thinking of
having the wedding?” she asked as she led me into an office and sat behind
her desk, a computer to one side.
“I’m not the groom,” I told her, “and they want the wedding to be
“So, you’re single?” she said brightly, and then blushed. “I mean..” She
shook her head slightly. “Saturday? This Saturday? That’s not possible.”
She crossed her hands and looked straight at me.
“They want the wedding to begin at two,” I said patiently. I pulled my
paper out of my pocket. “And they’re having a hundred and twenty five
“I’m sorry, Mr-” She waited for me to tell her.
“Spike,” I answered.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Spike, but we are holding a luncheon for the Order of the
Beloved Bison on Saturday at two. We aren’t available.”
“How many Bisons are you expecting?” I asked.
“One hundred and fifty,” she said. “But-“
“And what will they be eating?” I asked patiently.
“Chicken Diane or Salmon Florentine,” she said. “But-“
“Well, that sounds quite nice. Just tell the Bisons that you’ve double
booked them, and book the Emerson/Harris wedding instead.” She looked at me
blankly. “Do you want me to spell it for you? The bride’s name is A-N-Y-“
“Sir,” she said, flustered. “I am sorry, but there is no way that I can do
that. It wouldn’t be ethical. It would be wrong.”
I leaned forward and looked deeply into her eyes. “You know what I think is
She swallowed. “No,” she said, her eyes locked on mine.
“A beautiful woman like you, stuffed away in an airless room, hiding her
charms in a fussy little uniform.”
She blinked. “Ah-“ She said, and opened her mouth.
I reached out a fingertip and brushed over her lower lip. “I think,” I said
to her. “That you deserve something better than this, something nicer. I
think a lovely girl like you should be off lying out on a beach, or walking
through Paris, or-“
“Sitting on a terrace in Tuscany, painting a vista,” she said, her eyes far
“Exactly,” I said. I reached into my pocket and counted out a stack of
bills. “So why don’t you go live your dream, instead of being stuck here?”
She looked down at the money. “I couldn’t possibly,” she said, her hand
trembling as she reached out towards the cash.
“What’s more important, love?” I asked her. “Following your heart and
giving a pair of sweethearts a wedding they’ll always remember, or making
sure some silly old men have a boring lunch?” She held my eyes for a
moment, thinking, and then closed her hand around the money.
I stood in a phone booth, trying to keep my body out of the rain. The door
wouldn’t close all the way and water kept sloshing inside the booth. I
dialed the phone. “Hello?” said Anya.
“Hello, sweets,” I said. “I’ve booked your wedding and you can now return
to your normal state of hyperactivity.”
“Where did you book us? I’ve called all over and they told me they couldn’t
help me,” she said.
“Hotel Pierre had an opening,” I told her. “They had a cancellation and
they’re thrilled to have you. I cut them down to the bone on the price,
and drove a hard bargain. They’re even throwing in luncheon and a lovely
“That’s the most amazing thing I ever heard of,” she said, crying now. “I’m
so happy. You’ve made me so happy.”
“Glad to hear it, love,” I told her. Glad I could make someone feel that
Continued in Chapter 11
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