Chapter 1: Prelude
"Buffy, don't walk away from me!"
Angel grabbed his girlfriend's arm and spun her back around.
"Don't
touch me!" Buffy growled, shaking her arm out of his grip and glaring at him.
"We have to talk this out!"
"We talked. Or rather, I talked and
you ranted and yelled at me! We're through, Angel."
"No! Come on, Buffy!
Just because I won't...do that one thing?"
Buffy looked up in
frustration and let out a heavy breath. "Have you paid attention to anything
that I've said? That's just a symptom of the bigger problem."
Angel went
to say something, but only groaned.
"It isn't going to work between us,
Angel. It's better that we break up now."
"I can't believe that you're
going to let a--" he looked around furtively to make sure no one would overhear.
He whispered, "a sex problem end our relationship!"
The last hour had
been spent arguing, Buffy had had more than enough. She held back what she
wanted to blurt out. That his penis size was too small for her. He was her first
lover (so she hoped it got better!), but the only way she knew that Angel was
inside of her was by the way he grunted and rocked his body. Some guys (she'd
heard) could make up for having a teeny weenie by doing other pleasurable things
to their partner, but not Angel.
Instead of saying such a hurtful,
psyche-damaging thing, she pointed out the main reasons she was breaking up with
him. "That one thing that you won't do for me, is important! Not just the
fact that I've done the equivalent to you and you should return the favor, but
also that you won’t even try to make me happy!"
Angel screwed up his
face, he hated going down on a girl. It was smelly, hairy and gross to him.
Pussies were for fucking and touching, not using your mouth on. It didn’t matter
how close Buffy trimmed her bush, or if she shaved or waxed, it still made him
sick to put his face near it. Yeah, he’d asked her to give him blowjobs...but
that was different!
"Buffy, you know I have issues with that....thing!"
"That thing is a part of my body! I’m sorry that my body is so
disgusting to you! I did it to you, you should want to give me happys too! But
you don‘t even care!"
"You’re being unreasonable!"
"Ohh, you got
nerve! Like hell I am! If you ask me to put my mouth on your dick, you should do
it for me too!"
"Lower your fucking voice!" Angel hissed, afraid of
anyone finding out about his sexual inadequacies.
"No, I won’t! You’re a
jerk! You expect me to do stuff for you, but won’t do the same for me. You can't
really care about me if you don't take my needs into consideration. It’s over,
Angel! We both need to be with people who are more on our wavelengths."
"No, I won’t accept that," he said, squaring his chin. "Breaking up is
like launching missiles, we both have to turn our keys."
"Dammit,
Angel!" Buffy said in frustration. "Turn your fucking key, already! I don‘t want
to be with you anymore!"
"No." He crossed his arms.
Buffy had to
pull out the big guns, and put it in succinct terms. "You don’t satisfy me.
Okay? It’s as simple as that."
His face dropped. "How...can you say
that?"
She closed her eyes and groaned. "Haven't you been paying
attention? That's what we've been talking about this whole time! Don’t make me
say anything more. You don’t...satisfy me. And you don’t make any effort to
satisfy me. Please, just let me go."
Angel didn't think he could stand
any more ego-bashing. "Go! If you want to go so bad, just fucking go! You want
to be a shallow little slut? Then, fine! Who needs you?! There are plenty of
chicks in this school who would die to go out with me!"
"Don't call me
ever again," Buffy said, her eyes narrowed to slits.
She turned and
walked away from him, for good.
Buffy felt exhausted as she hauled her carcass through the front
door of her house. The big-relationship-ending-fight that she'd had with Angel
had taken the wind out of her sails.
She hated having to break down and
admit to him that he wasn't 'doin' it for her' sex-wise. But after a talk with
her best friend Willow the previous night, Buffy thought that honesty was the
best policy. It hadn't worked out that way. The discussion had started out calm,
but the moment Buffy even hinted that he wasn't doing what she needed, Angel had
gone off. His fragile ego couldn't handle it.
Buffy cared about her
boyfriend, but it didn't hurt as much as she had thought it would to be without
him. Besides feeling down about being boyfriendless, she was actually relieved
that she wouldn't have to lay under Angel again--Feeling horny and frustrated.
Nor would she ever have to give him a bj with no reciprocation either. She
needed to call Willow and tell her what happened.
Buffy started walking
upstairs to her bedroom.
"Buffy?" Her mother, Joyce, came out of the
kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel.
"Hey, Mom." Buffy smiled
wanly. "What are you doing home already?"
"The gallery closed early
today, I got home a while ago. You're late...What's wrong, sweetie?" Joyce
frowned.
Buffy sighed, "I broke up with Angel after school."
"Oh, I'm sorry. Are you okay?" Joyce had never really cared for Angel
all that much. He was too smug for her tastes.
"Yeah. Surprisingly okay,
as a matter of fact. I'm just tired."
"Why don't you go lay down for a
nap until dinner. We're having roast beef. Luckily, I've had time to prepare it
since I got home earlier than usual."
"Yeah, that is lucky. It sounds
good, Mom." Buffy forced herself not to grimace; her mother's roast was always
dry and tough as shoe leather.
Joyce was starting back for the kitchen,
then stopped and turned around. "Oh! I was thinking, would you be interested in
taking piano lessons? You were just saying the other day how you wanted to learn
to play an instrument."
"Mo-om, piano lessons are for little kids. I'd
look stupid taking lessons with 8-year-olds."
"How are you and Willow
going to start your all-girl rock band if you don't know how to play an
instrument?"
"I'll...sing. Maybe play the tambourine or something. If
anything, I'd rather learn to play electric guitar, I want to be able to rock
out."
"Buffy, knowing how to play a musical instrument can be a very
fulfilling thing. And the piano is such a beautiful instrument. And for your
information, it's possible to 'rock out' on a piano."
"I'm really tired,
Mom." Buffy pouted.
"Alright, honey. Go take your nap. I just thought
you might be interested."
Buffy continued upstairs to her room.
'Piano lessons! I don't think so!'
It was true, Buffy would feel
silly taking lessons if her fellow students were kids, but the real reason was
that the piano seemed too hard to learn for her. Buffy had healthy self-esteem
for the most part, but she knew that learning complicated stuff wasn't her
strong suit.
The next day, Buffy was hanging around the kitchen for lack of
anything better to do.
She sat on one of the stools and had a drink
while her mother cleaned the refrigerator. Talking about the Angel situation
with Willow had helped lift her spirits a bit. Buffy decided to swear off men
for a while. It was just too hard to deal with all of the pitfalls involved in
relationships. She was still feeling gloomy about not having someone special in
her life, no matter how much she needed a break from the dating world and
unappreciative men.
"Why don't you go over Willow's, Buffy? You look so
bored," Joyce observed.
Buffy shrugged. "I don't know. I just don't feel
like doing anything."
Joyce knew that breakups could be hard. It pained
her to see her daughter with a sad face. She changed the subject. "You know
Wesley from the gallery, right?"
Buffy chuckled, "You mean the English
cutie with the glasses and nice butt?"
"Buffy!" Joyce said, chastising
her, but trying not to smile and laugh at the same time.
"Hey, you're
the one who was checkin' out his caboose that time. Your eyes were like riveted
to it when he bent over. I saw the whole shocking display!" Buffy teased.
Joyce put a hand over her mouth, giggling. She half-heartedly swatted at
Buffy's arm. "That's not true! You're terrible! Aaaanyway, Wesley told me that
his cousin is living in town and is thinking of taking on a few select students
for piano lessons. Age or ability doesn't matter."
Buffy rolled her
eyes. "Again with the piano lessons, Mom? I thought I put the kibosh on that
idea yesterday?"
"I really think it would be good for you. It's a
challenging instrument but a lot of fun to learn, from what I've heard. Oh! And
Wesley's cousin, the piano teacher, is William Eddowes! Can you believe it!?"
Buffy raised her eyebrows, taking a sip from her soda. "And I'm supposed
to know that name, how?"
"I thought you might have heard of him. He was
a concert pianist, he played in venues all around the world. He stopped playing
a few years ago though, I suppose he decided to retire. God, he was brilliant. I
saw him perform with the Philharmonic in L.A. It was breathtaking."
"So
how come he quit if he was so good?"
"I don't know. Wesley said that he
wasn't sure of the exact reason either. Apparently it‘s a sore subject that
William doesn‘t like to talk about." Joyce sighed and shook her head. "It's a
shame that someone that talented isn't sharing it with the world. It's a
wonderful opportunity for you to learn from him, a true master of the
instrument."
Buffy thought about it. It was kinda cool that the teacher
guy was famous--in hoity-toity, high-society circles anyway. She really did want
to learn an instrument to start the band with Willow before Senior year. And she
never really did ever take chances on doing things that she wasn’t already sure
she’d be good at. It could be an opportunity to better herself and grow as a
person. And now that she didn’t plan on dating for a while, her free-time had
opened wayyyy up. It might not be so bad...
"We don’t even own a
piano," Buffy said.
Joyce grinned, seeing that Buffy had weakened. "Tell
you what, if you agree to take lessons, I’ll buy you one. Or one of those
electric keyboard things."
"Yeah?" Buffy asked. Joyce nodded. "Well...I
guess I could try."
Joyce hugged her. "Oh honey, that’s great! Maybe
when you’re getting good, you can teach me too!"
Buffy laughed. Her
mother had a little too much confidence in Buffy’s abilities. "Yeah, Mom, I’ll
do that. Please, don‘t imagine that I‘m gonna be really good at it. I‘m probably
going to suck and that Eddowes guy will yell at me and smack the backs of my
hands with a ruler."
"Think positively, Buffy. Maybe it will take you
some time to get the hang of it, but I know that you can do it. Trust me,
someday, you will thank me for suggesting that you take these lessons," Joyce
promised, taking her daughter’s face in her hands. "I’ll call Mr. Eddowes
tomorrow and schedule your first lesson!"
'Don't hold your breath
waiting for that thank you!' Buffy thought, but smiled.
Buffy wasn’t happy.
She was nervous about starting the
lessons and meeting her teacher. She imagined that he was probably really snobby
and mean. Hopefully he wasn’t like her dentist: old and crotchety, with ear
hair, a weird smell and other gross things.
Buffy was also pissed off
that her lessons were scheduled for Fridays after school. Not that she had a
cute boyfriend to go out with, but come after school on Friday afternoon, Buffy
wanted to forget all about lessons and serious learning of any kind.
Joyce was going to pick her up in an hour, mostly to meet Mr. Eddowes.
Usually Joyce was still at work at her art gallery at this time of day, but she
was going to quit early today. Her mom seemed to have a kind of crush on Mr.
Eddowes. How could you crush on someone just because they played an instrument?
Well, there were rock musicians that Buffy found especially yummy...so she
supposed that she could understand a little bit from that perspective. But how
could a classical music pianist make you wet your panties?
The house
looked pretty modest for a world-famous musician. He must have blown all the
money he'd made and had to buy a normal house (like hers).
Buffy rang
the doorbell.
A moment later, she heard someone approach.
The
door opened, a man with bleached blonde hair was standing there. A very, very
hot man with bleached blonde hair and the bluest eyes she‘d ever seen. Buffy
silently gawked at him.
"Are you Buffy Summers?" he asked, in a
delicious British accent.
"Uh...yeah," Buffy said, knowing how dumb she
must have sounded.
He smiled, opening the door all the way. "The first
student. Come in, won’t you?"
"Uh, okay," Buffy said, wandering through
the doorway and into the living room, where the front door opened into. She
thought, ’Wow! Hothothothot! That can’t be the guy! It’s his houseboy or
butler or something!’
He shut the door, thinking, ’Isn’t she a
lovely girl? She must have boys lined up around the block.’
"Well,
take off your jacket and make yourself comfortable, Buffy."
"You’re...Mr. Eddowes?" she asked, shrugging out of her jacket.
"I didn’t introduce myself, did I? That was rude of me." He walked up to
her, extending his hand. "Yes, I’m William Eddowes. It’s good to meet you,
Buffy."
Buffy smiled, shaking his hand. ‘Hot damn! I get to hang out
with this yumptious guy for an hour a week? Yay!’
"I...didn’t know
you were going to be so young," Buffy said, batting her eyes. "I thought you’d
be some old guy. My mom said that you were retired." Joyce had kept how young he
was to herself, she wanted Buffy to be surprised. It worked. Buffy was
very pleasantly surprised.
He laughed. Buffy felt a thrill run up
her spin, making her giggle. He had a very sexy laugh.
"Somedays I feel
much, much older. I am retired. Had enough of giving concerts after hundreds of
them. Would you like something to drink? I was going to get myself a Coke."
"Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks."
Buffy followed him with her
eyes as he left the room. She fanned herself with her hand and blew out a
breath. ‘Yum!’
He was wearing a pair of khaki Dockers and a
dark-blue long-sleeved dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He
also had on a black necktie. The pants looked soooo good on him! He was slim,
appeared to be in good shape and was extremely handsome. That voice! That bod!
Who knew pianists could be so hot?
‘Whoa! Get a grip, Buffy! Stop
perving on your teacher! Try and act normal!’
She looked around his
living room, getting her hormones under control. She saw a picture on a
bookshelf. It was a framed photograph of Mr. Eddowes and an older man smiling
for the camera in some kind of club. It was autographed with a silver marker, it
read,
"To Spike,
You blow me away!
God bless you --
Jerry Lee Lewis"
Buffy smiled quizzically. Oh, he had such
an adorable smile!--Mr. Eddowes, not the old guy. ‘To Spike'?
He came
out of the kitchen with two cans of Coke. "Here you are."
"Oh, thank
you." Buffy blushed and took the drink from him. She turned back to the photo.
"Who’s that guy with you?"
"That’s Jerry Lee Lewis, The Killer. One of
my musical idols that I was lucky enough to meet."
"The Killer?"
"Just a nickname." Spike smiled.
"Oh...Oh yeah," Buffy said. "He
was famous a long time ago, right?"
"Yes, back in the late 50’s, early
60's. He was an electrifying performer, especially for those times. With the
exception of Elvis, there weren‘t many white boys that played that kind of
music."
"Why does it say, ‘To Spike’?"
"That’s a nickname some
friends gave me years ago. If it makes you more comfortable, you may call me
that if you like. Most people who know me call me that."
Buffy’s blush
spread. "Okay, Spike. It’s kind of wiggy to call a teacher by a nickname, but I
like it."
Spike smiled. "Good, I want you to be at ease. Let’s get you
acquainted with the piano."
He sat down on the wide, padded wooden
bench. Buffy sat down next to him, concentrating on looking at the keys instead
of her remarkably hot teacher. The padding was comfortable, at least she
wouldn’t have a sore ass after the hour was up. His piano was an ebonized
mahogany Steinway upright. It was very nice as far as pianos go. It looked
expensive.
"Your mother says that you’ve never played before. Do you
know how to read music?"
"Um, no, not really," Buffy said, feeling dumb.
"That’s alright, don’t feel bad about it. Most people don’t know how.
I’ll give you a few workbooks to take home so that you can study."
Buffy
frowned. "Homework? I don’t want extra homework. I get enough of that at
school."
"Buffy, you’re taking these lessons to learn something.
Learning requires commitment and study. If you aren’t willing to put in some
effort, you might as well just quit now."
Buffy pouted, he was being
mean. Though...she could see his point. She was just being a big baby about it.
"I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ll try my best. And I‘ll try not to bitch about it."
He smiled warmly, making her feel all gooey and melty inside. "It’s not
so bad once you learn the basics. I’m sure you’ll pick it up just fine. You seem
like a bright girl."
She blushed again. "Thanks. I’m just worried that
I’m going to suck."
"I’m sure you won’t suck, Buffy," he chuckled.
"Let’s get started with this book," Spike said, taking a book from the top of
the piano.
Over the next half hour, Spike went over the very basics
of reading music. Telling Buffy about staffs, clefs, the names of some of the
notes and their placement on the staffs, etc. Buffy was trying hard to retain
the information.
"Now that you know some fundamentals, we’ll move on.
Put your hands on the keys like this." Spike demonstrated where she should place
her hands. "Put both thumbs together on Middle C so that they’re touching."
Buffy admired his long fingered hands. They were elegant, but still
quite manly. She placed her hands on the keyboard where he showed her.
"Good. Arch your hands a bit," he put his hands over hers, lifting her
palms off of the keyboard. "Keep them positioned like that. Try and relax your
wrist, don‘t hold them rigid--that‘s good."
Buffy wanted to sigh at how
good it felt when he had touched her hands. She was getting seriously squirmy.
Her nether regions were tingly.
They carried on for the last half
hour with Buffy playing simple notes and learning what note was assigned to
which keys.
There was a knock on the front door.
Spike looked
over at the clock. "Oh, that’ll be your mum."
"Time’s up already?" Buffy
asked. "It seems like we just started."
He chuckled, "Time flies when
you‘re havin‘ fun, as they say." He’d been thoroughly engrossed in the lesson as
well.
Spike slid off of the bench, walking to the front door. He greeted
Joyce at the door and asked her inside.
Joyce smiled expectantly at
Buffy. "Well? How did it go, honey?" she asked excitedly.
"It was cool,"
Buffy said. "I think I can retain what I learned today."
"She catches on
quick," Spike said considerately. "As long as she studies a bit between lessons,
we should make good progress."
"See?" Joyce nudged Buffy. "I told you
that you’d be good!"
"Mom!" Buffy rolled her eyes and laughed. "All I
did was play Middle C with my thumbs."
"Well, that’s a start! Right, Mr.
Eddowes?" Joyce asked.
"Right, you are. And we don’t have to be so
formal. You can call me William, or Spike. Spike’s my nickname."
"That’s
what I call him." Buffy grinned, blushing once again.
"Okay, Spike it is
then. I wanted to tell you, I saw you perform in L.A. a few years ago. You were
wonderful," Joyce said with open admiration.
He smiled. "Thank you,
Joyce. That’s very nice of you to say."
"Oh, it’s the truth! You played
so beautifully. I‘m thrilled that you took Buffy on. Do you have many other
students?"
"No, actually Buffy is my one and only at the moment."
"Wow," Buffy said, her grin widening, "That’s so cool! I feel so
special!"
"You are special, Buffy" Spike said, smiling at her.
Buffy’s breath caught. There wasn’t anything better than a sexy,
fabulous babe telling you that you were special. Well...there were a few
things that would be better. For instance, that same babe doing erotic and
illegal things to you....perhaps involving pudding and whipped cream.
Spike said, "I’ll take more students eventually. I want to see how it
goes with Buffy before I commit myself to teaching full-time. So far, so good. I
think Buffy will prove to be an exemplary pupil. "
He collected a few
workbooks, then handed them to Buffy. "I’d like for you to work on what we
learned today over the next week."
"I will." Buffy put the notebooks in
her backback along with her schoolbooks. She smiled bashfully. "Thanks, Spike. I
had fun."
"You’re welcome. And I had fun too. I’ll see you next week."
Buffy and Joyce said their goodbyes to him, then left.
When the
women were out the front door, Spike reflected on the past hour. But damn, Buffy
was adorable! And what a bloody little flirt! The way she used those big green
eyes...And the way her tongue kept poking out to wet her lips when she was
concentrating...Probably didn’t even realize she was doing things that made him
pause and his heart speed up. Teenaged girls were naturally sexual, they were
bursting with hormones and pheromones, blossoming into their sexuality and
womanhood. Buffy was definitely a delicate blossom, freshly opened, delicate and
sweet smelling. The mother, Joyce, was quite fetching too (it was easy to see
where Buffy got her looks from), but there was just something specially
intriguing about Buffy.
Spike had laughed and smiled more authentically
while talking to her than he had in...years. Somehow the pretty, engaging blonde
girl could make him forget what a sad excuse of a life he had for a short time.
He realized that he was staring off into space like an idiot and
thinking about her.
"Hunh..." Spike shook his head, amazed that he was
thinking of anyone, especially a teenager, like that again. "It’s been too long,
mate...Far too long," he muttered to himself.
TBC...
Feedback is my friend! Give some <mailto:[email protected]>
, won't you? (from Italian andare, meaning 'to go'): Literally means 'moving along' or flowing, and is used to denote slow, but not very slow. Not as fast as allegro, not as slow as adagio.)
Spike had begged off of having dinner with his cousin Wesley. Not
that he didn't love his cousin or enjoy his company, but it was just that he'd
rather be alone. As usual.
It was Wesley's persistent suggestions to
start teaching that made Spike finally go for it. Spike knew that Wesley worried
about him and his reclusiveness.
Wesley didn’t tell Spike all of his
reasons, but he hoped that by taking students Spike might, A) Start rejoining
the world around him and interact with more people, and B) Rediscover the joy of
performing through his students' eyes. To Wesley, it was almost criminal that
such a talented pianist didn’t perform for others.
Spike had finally
decided to give teaching younger people a try, starting with just one, then
expanding if he enjoyed it. And he had enjoyed the lesson he’d given today.
Partly because it felt good to act like a normal person, and also because of the
student. Buffy was a nice girl. She smelled lovely too--An aroma something akin
to a delicious, flaky pastry, oddly enough. It made him think of freshly baked
donuts...the kind with jelly or with the cream in the middle. Mmmmmm!
Shit, he was doing it again, staring off into space and thinking about
Buffy Summers.
It was the height of curiosity that he should be reacting
like this to her. Spike hadn’t dated, flirted with or had feelings for any woman
in years. It was like he was dead from the waist down, and more importantly, his
heart felt like it was in stasis. All because of what happened with Drusilla...
Spike and Dru had met when Spike was 16. He had finished giving a
concert in London and was attending a party thrown in his honor by Drusilla’s
wealthy father. Dru had looked resplendent that night, wearing a blue velvet,
floor-length dress. Her chestnut hair had been done up in a complicated and
beautiful mass of curls. Their eyes had met and locked from across the crowded
room. Love at first sight. Like Romeo and Juliet. They had danced and stared
into each other’s eyes the rest of the night.
Spike and Dru were
together for the next four years. His love had been boundless. He would have
done anything and everything for her. There was a period of time where Dru had
been desperately ill, during which Spike took care of her, tending to her every
need and helping to nurse her back to health. It had been (to that point) the
worst time of his life. The thought of losing his Dru was terrifying. But he
hadn’t shown it, Spike made certain that Dru never knew how frightened he was.
He was the picture of optimism, telling her how everything would be fine. He
only had words of love and comfort for her, accompanied by a reassuring smile.
Then one day, after her recovery, Spike saw her in the park near their
apartment in New York City. She was making out with another man right there on a
bench in broad daylight. Spike had wanted to murder them both on the spot, he
was shaking and red with rage. But he didn’t approach them, deciding to go back
home and wait for her. Spike was afraid that he really might end up killing
someone if he confronted them in the park.
When Dru had come in the
door, he pounced, demanding to know what she was doing with that man. She told
him the truth. That she didn’t love Spike anymore, she’d been seeing other
people behind his back. And now that Spike knew, she was leaving him.
Dru had packed up her things and been out by the next evening.
In many ways, Spike’s life had ended the moment he saw Dru in the park
on that bench.
Drusilla was his dark Goddess. His raison d’être, his
reason for being. Without her...life was meaningless. Nothing mattered. Not his
music, his family, or his own existence. He was left a shell of his former self.
Spike had gone on a drinking binge after Dru left, hoping to drink
himself to death. He’d thrown violent tantrums borne of anguish and anger,
leaving his now lonely apartment in shambles. So much anger to go ‘round. He
hated himself for the fact that he had begged her to stay with him even after
she’d admitted to not loving him and having affairs. He had no self-respect or
humility when it came to Drusilla. He was angry with himself that he wasn’t
brave enough to kill himself and end his misery like he’d wanted to. Too much of
a bloody coward.
Then the 'getting revenge on the ex' part of his grief
came upon him. At another high society party, he met Harmony Kendall, she was
pretty but dim-witted as a sheep. Spike regretted this later, but he took
Harmony to bed. Not for good reasons, he had just wanted to get back at Dru and
to get some kind of momentary relief from his miserable state.
Big,
big mistake.
The sex had been good, Harm was a passionate and
eager lover...But it left Spike feeling just as miserable as he had been before,
even more so. You can’t forget the love of your life by shagging other girls.
Harmony refused to leave him alone. She was smitten with him--the poor thing. No
amount of convincing did the trick, Harm followed him like a puppy, begging for
his favors. After a few break-ins at his post-Dru apartment, and a restraining
order later, Spike had moved back to England for a while.
Time had been
spent on therapists’ couches, talking about the disaster his relationship and
his life had become. Questions and self-doubt assailed him constantly. He did
something wrong. Was he too attentive? Not attentive enough? Was he too clingy?
Somehow he had driven Dru away and into other men‘s arms. It was his fault, and
he didn’t know what he’d done wrong. Anti-depressants helped chase the worst of
the suicidal thoughts away, but he still felt so bloody...empty. Bereft of the
energy to care about what life had in store for him.
Why bother caring?
Real love didn't exist. You can give a person everything and they still won't
love you. Love and romance had always been vitally important to Spike, that's
the way he was wired. Which made Dru's infidelity and rejection of him all the
more devastating.
It had taken performing twice in front of an audience
after the breakup for Spike to realize that he had lost his passion for it.
Music had been the focus of his life since he was 4-years-old. Now, it didn’t
hold any thrill. Nothing did. That’s when he’d retired from public performances,
and from life itself really. For four years, Drusilla had served as his muse and
inspiration for everything he‘d done. But she was gone, taking Spike’s heart,
soul and his capacity for joy with her.
Luckily, Spike had made enough
money during his years of playing to live comfortably for a long time.
Spike’s eyes wandered over to the picture of himself and Jerry Lee
on the bookshelf. It had been taken in far better times. Dru had still been his
girl, he had been at the top of his game and happy. How he wished that he could
go back in time and fix everything...
He remembered Buffy asking him
about it. She was so cute. She didn’t even really know who Jerry Lee was. He
smiled again. So young. So sweet. So lovely...built quite nicely too.
Why was he thinking about her like this? An image rose in his mind of
Buffy with wind blowing through her free-flowing blonde hair, pursing her lips
at him and running her hands up and down her sides.
No woman had
interested or excited him in such a long time...Yet here he was, thinking of a
teenager in erotic terms. Spike looked down at his groin--was that movement he
felt? No...couldn’t be. Not in relation to a teenage girl - who had the
loveliest green eyes, sweetest smell, brightest smile... There it was again!
"Oh bugger," Spike said, staring down at the twitching lump in his
trousers.
Buffy was giddy with happiness when the UPS truck left a package
on her doorstep. She grabbed it and ran up to her room with it.
Then she
had listened to the first CD. Classical music hadn’t done anything for her in
the past, but now, she found herself really listening to it. She closed
her eyes and let the music wash over her. It was beautiful and moving. She held
the CD case in her hands, looking from time to time at Spike’s photo on the
back.
Her mother was right - Spike was brilliant. It didn’t seem
possible that a human being’s hands could move that fast or produce such
beautiful sounds. His playing of Chopin’s works made her quiver. Sure, it had a
lot to do with the man who was playing the songs, but her newfound appreciation
of classical music was going way up!
Buffy was taken on a roller coaster
ride, feeling uplifted, then saddened, then hopeful and happy, by the songs. She
crossed her arms over her chest and sighed at the end of the CD. The applause of
Spike’s audience (at the time of recording) thundered. She read the insert
inside of the CD case again. It had been recorded when Spike was her age, 16.
How someone her age could be so accomplished, so amazingly gifted, she couldn’t
comprehend.
Spike was unbelievable. Not only did he possess a skill that
most people could never aspire to, he was physically beautiful and sweet. Buffy
hadn’t forgotten how he’d talked her up when her mother came by to pick her up.
There was no way that he thought she was ‘quick’ or terribly smart. But he had
said it, hoping to build her up, boost her ego and make her mom feel proud. Oh,
Buffy wanted him to boost much, much more than her ego! (Though that could use
some boosting as well!)
Buffy had never felt this kind of want for a
man. It wasn’t just his looks any longer, his incredible talent also intrigued
her. She wanted him. She wanted him in the worst way.
Buffy thought
about Spike as she got ready for bed.
Then she slipped under the covers,
pressing the start button on her stereo remote. Buffy listened to Spike’s
performance, getting hotter and hornier. His hands--they were so supple and
agile. What sounds could they produce by playing over her body, she wondered.
Buffy bet that Spike knew where a woman’s clitoris was located--unlike Angel. To
feel his fingers touching her there....Buffy’s own right hand moved down to her
pussy, touching and rubbing.
She was actually getting off thinking of
him and listening to him playing.
"Spike," Buffy groaned in a whisper,
imagining his fingers touching her. "Ohhhh Spike!"
Buffy ended up having
a better orgasm just thinking about the bleached blonde pianist than she’d ever
had with her actual boyfriend.
The next lesson...
"That's very good, Buffy.
You've obviously been doing your homework."
Buffy grinned proudly. "I
have! I felt bad that I was all poo-pooey about studying. So I wanted to prove
that I could do it."
Spike laughed. "Well, you’ve done it. I can tell
that you’ve worked on the books I gave you. I’m proud of you."
Buffy
turned red, looking away from his so-very-blue-eyes. She had masturbated to his
image and music almost every night. It was a little wiggy looking him in the
face after that. Buffy wanted to admit how she had ordered his CD’s, but she
worried that she’d give away how very much she had enjoyed listening to
them.
"I’m glad that you’ve decided to give it a try, Buffy. I’ll do my
best to instruct you, if you do your best to learn."
"I will, Spike."
Buffy ran her right hand along the keys. "The piano really is a beautiful
instrument. I’m excited about learning from you. When did you start playing?"
"Well, I started a bit early. One of those prodigy types."
"That’s neat! How old were you?"
"I was 4."
"WOW!" Buffy
gaped at him. "That’s practically a baby! You could play at that age?"
"That’s when I started my love affair with the piano. It took a bit for
me to do well."
"How long?"
"Buffy, we shouldn’t be talking
about me. This is about you."
"I know. But I’m interested." She smiled
broadly. "I want to know more about my wonderful teacher."
Spike
laughed. "Okay, I’ll answer your questions. I just don’t want you to feel
discouraged. I was a rare case, someone who had an inborn talent for playing."
"I won’t be discouraged. I just want to know."
"I started
playing when I was 4. My mother was a musician, so there was a piano in the
house for me to play around with. It felt like I had played before. I just knew
how to play certain things without being shown. I’ve always had a photographic
memory, only with music. I can play anything that I listen to."
"Oh,
that’s so cool!" Buffy said. "I’ve heard of people who can....what’s it
called....play by ear?"
"Yes," Spike said, grinning at her. "That’s it.
I can hear anything and just play it."
"Wow..." Buffy shook her head.
"That’s so amazing! I wish I had some skill like that."
"I’m sure you
have some talent or skill that comes naturally to you."
Buffy looked
down, shaking her head. "Nope. I’m stupid."
"Don’t say that!"
Buffy looked up at his vehemence. She blinked at the fire in his eyes.
"Don’t ever put yourself down, Buffy." Spike put his hands on her
shoulders and looked deeply into her eyes. "You are special. It doesn’t matter
if you don’t have obvious gifts. I know that you have something special inside
of you, just waiting to get out. Don’t doubt yourself."
Buffy felt so
turned on, she couldn’t stand it! She said quietly, "Okay....I’ll...try to
remember that."
Spike stared at her a few moments longer, then smiled
and backed off. "Sorry if I got to weird there..."
"No. I--I appreciate
what you said."
"I just believe strongly that everyone has something
special about them. There could be a million things that you’re meant to do. You
just have to find the right one." Spike looked back at her. "Piano or music
might not be your ‘certain something’, but playing will give you benefits."
"Like what?"
"Like...when I’ve played in the past, I’ve felt
such--peace. Such oneness with the universe." Spike looked at her and laughed.
"Hope I don’t sound like too much of a hippie. But music can really help you
relax, whether playing or listening to it."
"Oh, I agree!" Buffy said,
nodding avidly. "It can be a balm for the soul."
Spike tilted his head
to the left and smiled in a most sexy way. "Yeah. That’s it, exactly."
Buffy’s insides puddled. Could Spike look any more delicious? Before she
could control her mouth, she said, "I loved the Chopin and Mozart pieces on your
CD’s."
Spike’s smile quirked, his brows lowered. "You’ve listened to
some of my performances?"
Buffy knew that she was blushing hard. "Yeah,
I...I ordered some of your stuff when I started. I wanted to hear you play."
"Buffy, that’s so studious of you. You must really care about the
quality of your lessons to check up on your instructor."
"Well,
yeah...But I really wanted to see what your stuff sounded like. My mom said that
you were ‘brilliant’. I wanted to hear for myself."
"And the verdict?"
She blinked, looking into his eyes and wishing that she could kiss him.
"Brilliant."
Spike blushed a little and shook his head. "What you would
say. Your own word or words."
"I’d say...beautiful.
Passionate...Powerful."
"The original composers are the ones to credit.
They created the pieces."
"Yeah, but you were the one who brought them
to life. You interpreted it for those people, like me, who couldn’t duplicate
it. You made it beautiful and accessible. You don‘t understand. I never
listened to classical music--voluntarily, before. But I got interested in
hearing it last week. I like it now."
"Really? You do?
"Uh-huh!
It’s--um--I don’t know the right word...."
"Just use the words you
know."
"It’s so...nuanced? I’m not sure if that’s right. But I mean that
it takes for you to really listen to ’get it’."
Spike nodded,
smiling lopsidedly. "That’s a very apt description."
"You’re amazing,
Spike," she said, tilting her head to the side.
Spike swallowed at the
passion and admiration that he saw in her eyes as she spoke. "Th-Thank you,
Buffy." He looked away. "I’m...very flattered that I’ve inspired a new
appreciation for the Masters in you."
"You have! I really like Chopin.
And tons of others. Beethoven is cool, I’d heard some of his stuff before, but
it’s much cooler than I first thought."
"You know, Beethoven was so
impassioned when he played, that keys and strings often went flying into the
air?" Spike laughed.
Buffy smiled and raised her eyebrows. "Really? Wow!
He must have been strong!"
"Perhaps he was, but pianos weren’t built as
sturdily as they are today."
"Who’s your favorite composer?" Buffy
asked.
"There are so many that I love and admire. But, I’d have to say
Mozart is the one that I most enjoy."
"Mozart, yeah. I saw the movie! He
was cool!"
Spike smiled. "Yeah, that was a good movie. What sort of
things do you enjoy doing?"
Buffy looked away, shyly. "Oh, just stupid
stuff. Not like the stuff you do."
"Stop that."
His tone made
her look up at him again.
"Buffy, nothing that you enjoy or that you’re
good at could be stupid. If there’s something that you love, don’t be
ashamed or embarrassed of it. Embrace it."
Buffy felt so warm and
comfortable with him. Maybe she even....loved him a little bit. "I...um, am good
at gymnastics."
"Well, there you go! That’s not something everyone can
do," Spike said, smiling at her.
"I guess." Buffy blushed.
"You
guess correctly. Everyone has something that makes them special. But that
doesn’t mean that we can’t learn other things, or develop additional skills."
Geez, when did he get so bloody optimistic? Buffy just seemed to bring that side
out in him. "Maybe your forte is more in the physical realm, but you can still
learn how to play an instrument well."
"Do you think I can get good
enough to be in a band?"
"A band?"
"Um, yeah. My friend Willow
and I want to start a rock band and I need to learn how to play something. I
decided on the piano."
Spike smiled, his face was actually starting to
ache from smiling at Buffy so much. "That’s wonderful, Buffy. I think that you
can do anything that you put your mind to. I can’t objectively say after only
two lessons, but if you keep up your commitment? I don’t doubt that you can do
anything. You’re a girl who goes after what she wants, I can tell."
"Yeah," Buffy breathed. Thinking that HE was what she wanted most of
all. No man--No one, for that matter--had ever talked to her like this before.
Her parents had done the whole ‘you can be President Buffy’ speech. But when he
said it, she really believed it.
"There’s nothing like making or
listening to music. It can inspire you. It can take you to peaks and valleys of
emotion that you never imagined. It can make you feel."
Buffy
nodded, her lips parted, gazing at Spike.
They were beginning to get
lost in each other’s eyes....
"I really appreciate all the nice things
you said, Spike. I’ll remember what you said." Buffy touched his knee, not in a
seductive way, more of a friendly gesture. Though she wanted it to be much
friendlier.
Spike blinked, sliding his leg out from under her
hand. "No problem, Buffy. Um, let’s--let’s move on to the next lesson. We can’t
spend the whole time gabbing, can we? I think you’re ready for another song. How
about," he turned some pages, "’Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star’?" He hoped that
she couldn’t tell how rattled he was.
"Mozart wrote that, right?" Buffy
asked.
Spike smiled at her. "Yeah. He did."
The rest of the
lesson went on without further incident.
Spike was in bed, halfway between sleep and wakefulness. His mind
drifted on it's own.
Buffy.
Golden-haired, sweet, pretty Buffy.
She smelled so good today, that delicious pastry smell. When she'd touched his
knee, he had to keep from shivering and his eyes from fluttering. It was just
his luck that it took a 16-year-old to make him feel like a man again - sure of
himself, strong, amorous, virile...horny.
Very, very horny.
What
if it were possible? What if it were okay to touch her? To be with her....
Spike smiled softly at that train of thought. His mind created a happy
scenario where he could have everything that he wanted with no moral
difficulties or consequences...
He imagined the lesson he'd given
her earlier today, going a bit differently...
Buffy took off her
jacket. Spike was turned towards her, sitting on the piano bench.
Spike,
not concerned about being caught leering at her, smiled and raked his eyes over
her body. He curled his tongue up over his top teeth.
"You see something
you like?" Buffy asked, smiling right back at him. She batted her eyes
coquettishly.
"Yes. Most definitely."
Buffy swung her hips,
walking over to him. He unhesitatingly put his hands on her hips, looking up at
her face.
"I want you, Spike," Buffy moaned. "I want to feel your hands
all over me!"
Spike stood up, pulling her up against his body. He kissed
her hard on the lips. Their tongues pushed into the other’s mouths, dueling
passionately.
"Mmmm! Spike!"
"Buffy!" Spike breathed, moving his
hand up under her shirt. He palmed one of her firm tits, squeezing and rubbing
the nipple.
Buffy pulled away from him. With a depraved twist to her
lips, she dropped down to her knees, running her hands down his body to his
waist. "Can I suck your cock?" she asked, already pulling down his zipper. "Let
me do it to you, Spike. I want to do it!"
"Yes! God, yes!"
Buffy
smiled up at him as she released him from his pants. She licked it a few times,
then surrounded the head with her lips. She moaned, sliding her mouth down
around him.
"Oh Buffy--Suck it! God--Suck my cock, pet!" Spike yelled
deliriously.
In reality, Spike was smiling slightly and moaning. His
hand sought out his hardening dick under the covers. He started stroking himself
in time with the Fantasy Buffy's mouth.
"Ahhh--Yes, Buffy!" he
whispered.
Spike suddenly snapped out of the fantasy, realizing what he
was doing. He dropped his cock like it were a hot iron and sat up in bed,
looking spooked.
Spike was upset with himself. "Oh God, what am I
doing?! I can't think of her like that! She's a little girl!" He put his hands
over his eyes.
His inner-voice said, 'She's young, but she's not a
little girl. She's a woman. C'mon, how long has it been since a woman made you
hard? How long since you wanted a woman? You know you want her! That high, perky
little ass. Those mouthwatering tits. Those juicy lips....'
"No,"
Spike groaned. "No, I won't think of her like that again. I won't. It's wrong!"
The voice added sarcastically, 'Yeah. Good luck with all that,
mate!'
"Shower. Cold shower," he muttered, stumbling out of bed.
Spike would do whatever it took to get the improper thoughts for his
student out of his head.
Buffy had a dream of her own that night...
She saw
a large, soft bed covered in violet-colored silk sheets and pillows.
She
saw herself and Spike in the middle of the bed, their limbs entangled, his body
draped over hers.
"Oh Buffy," Spike kissed her neck. "I adore you! I
worship you!"
"Yes! Tell me more!" Buffy grinned, running her hands up
his arms.
"I love you! You are my Goddess!"
"Oh Spike! I adore
you too!"
"You’re so beautiful. I must have you!"
"Ohhhh!" Buffy
moaned. "Take me, Spike! I want you so bad!"
"Uhhh--Buffy! I want you
too! I love you!"
"Ohh! Oh Spike! I love you!"
Just as his
big, hard cock (she knew he had to be well-endowed; she just knew it) was
pushing against her, Buffy was awakened by a knocking on her bedroom door.
"Buffy, honey?! Are you awake? Your alarm went off, but you didn’t get
up. You feel okay?"
"Uh....Yeah, Mom. I’m....awake."
‘Shit!
Damn! Fuck!’ Buffy thought, pounding her fists on her mattress.
In
her dream, she was just about to get some Spike lovin’. She’d never get any of
that in real life....or would she? What if she could seduce him? What if she
could make him weaken (from silly age concerns) and horny enough to take her as
his lover? Oh...that would be perfect! Buffy would have him. It was decided,
Buffy would set out on a campaign of seduction. Age difference or no, Buffy
wanted Spike. It was critical that she at least try.
Next week, she
would begin. She hopped out of bed to get ready for school.
TBC...
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