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Free Cable? by BloodEnvy
 
Morning After
 
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CHAPTER THREE

Buffy awoke to the feel of cool bedcovers and cooler skin. She was lying across the bed in the same position as she had been when she fell asleep. The light on the other side of her eyelids was dim- the curtains must be closed. Spike lay on his side next to her, an arm draped across her stomach and his cheek mashed against her shoulder.

Buffy groaned. She shouldn’t have come here. She wasn’t supposed to be here.

But she was... And so was he.

She had woken up alone after sleeping with Angel, after completely giving herself to him, to anyone for the first time. She had come here with maybe, possibly, the intent of sleeping with Spike, and was completely prepared to wake up alone. After all, Angel had left because he had turned evil, and Spike was evil... so why wouldn’t he leave?

But he hadn’t. Spike was still here, fast asleep next to her. He hadn’t left.

So now she had to.

Pushing his arm off her, she rolled off the bed. Avoiding most of the broken glass and flicking the light switch, Buffy crept across the room to pull on jeans and search for her shirt. Clipping her bra behind her, she spotted her shirt lying amidst broken bottles and the smashed bedside table. Picking up the white material she saw the complete lack of buttons and ripped front.

Perfect. Just perfect.

Flipping the shirt over her arms she straightened it. Shrugging, she tied the bottom into a knot above her navel, creating sort of crop top. It was passable, she guessed- if she was in a porno about a naughty school girl.

Damn it.
 


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Spike woke to an empty bed, his arm draped over the empty space his bed mate had until recently occupied. Shielding his eyes against the glare of the fluorescents, Spike propped himself up on his elbows and watched the blonde search for clothing.

It was interesting that the Slayer he found so bloody hot was a blonde. He had never seen the attraction Angelus had seemed to have for blondes. Sure, Darla had been striking, but she had never had been a weak spot like Drusilla had been, or even Cecily for that matter.

Running his tongue over the inside of his teeth, Spike smirked as Buffy looked mournfully down at her torn shirt. When she tied it around her waist in a busty little number he almost jumped her right there. To add to the image, she bent to search the floor for her heels, giving him a rather nice view of her ass, all wrapped up in those impossibly tight jeans.

It was bloody rude, teasing him like this. Not to mention the fact that she was wearing clothes again, and no matter how sexy or naughty they were; that was never good.

“Nice outfit Slayer. I’m surprised you don’t wear your shirt like that all the time.”

Buffy spun around, caught completely by surprise. She had thought she would be able to sneak out before he’d woken up. Apparently not.

Throwing Spike a glare, she quickly untied the knot and wrapped the torn material over her chest. A harsh retort burning on her tongue, she raised her eyes to him.  The comment died before leaving her lips however, at the sight of his naked body, just lying there so... casually. He was so comfortable in his, well, skin... She was almost envious of how relaxed he was.

“I thought you were asleep.”

Readjusting himself on the bed slightly, he laughed inwardly at the blush slowly spreading on her cheeks. “As much as I would love to sleep, love, I find I get lonely in a big bed like this.” He slid a hand over the place she had vacated, staring up at her with lidded eyes.

“Well... then get... get a smaller bed.”

“I thought maybe I could just share it, pet.”

“I... no...” Buffy was really finding it difficult to think straight. “God, would you put some clothes on!” Snatching his jeans off the floor she threw them at him, catching him by surprise.

Scrabbling to catch the jeans, Spike stood and stepped into them. Buckling his belt, he kept his eyes on the Slayer. Buffy turned away, arms still tight around her chest, staring into the door of what she guessed was a bathroom.

God, it would be soooooo good to shower before I leave. Then I wouldn’t have to go through the rest of the day smelling like... Buffy sniffed her hair discreetly... yuck, sweaty... sex sweat. And she didn’t have to shower alone... she had been wondering what it would be like in a...

“Save water, Slayer?”

Snapping back to reality, Buffy spun back around, expecting Spike to be completely dressed back by the bed. She jumped when she realised that his face, his body were only a foot from hers. And he was still shirtless. God, he had a nice chest.

God, she had a nice mouth. He had missed her mouth. Seven nights without it and he had almost gone mad. Sure, staying at a hotel with free cable and a bar down the corner had helped somewhat. But not enough. He again had to fight down the urge to just attack her with his own. He had to convince her to stay otherwise... she’d just leave.

“Save...? No. Not water... I have to go.” Buffy heard her herself saying it, willed her body to prove it, and for several seconds she didn’t move. Spike watched her internal battle, surprised by how much she might not want to leave, and how much he wanted her to stay. He felt almost like he... no. He couldn’t... Could he?

Finally forcing her body to move, she turned away and walked to the door.
“Last night was different you know.”

Buffy stopped, hand resting on the doorknob.

“Different from before, I mean.”

Taking a small, cautious step towards her, Spike watched Buffy’s back, for any sign, however small. That she might stay. It really was bloody strange, how much he wanted her not to leave.

“Last time... The first time... was, honestly, bloody fucking fantastic. I never knew anyone alive could move like that, or get off on pain so much... or... or go that long. You... you were incredible. But, it wasn’t the best. We were drunk, we were lonely, and well, we were idiotic. But last night, it changed things. Last night we weren’t using alcohol and revenge as a bloody poor excuse for a shag. It was different. Primal. Something we both wanted. We both… And I know you felt it. You were there too.”

Buffy was frozen, hand still resting on the doorknob. But she couldn’t seem to turn the handle and go. She had felt what he was talking about. This hadn’t been some freaky sexfest... it had been... different.

Desperate. Like she had needed it.

Taking a shuddering breath, Buffy dropped her hand from the handle.
“Say I did. Say I did feel it... What then?” Her back to him, Buffy squeezed her eyes shut.

“You… you could stay.” He had to be careful. Use the wrong amount of hesitation, of careful wording, and she was out that door.

“I… I have a life. Family. Friends. How do I leave that behind? I can’t leave that behind.” Buffy held onto the images of her friends, Willow, Xander, Oz, Giles, even Cordelia. And her mother. She couldn’t leave her behind. Oh, God, her…

“Mom!”
 
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