High School Confidential [rated AO] 2/4 HIGH SCHOOL CONFIDENTIAL by purplefeen Spike/Willow rating: MA Summary: Good girl Willow Rosenberg is pursued by bad boy William "Spike" Pratt. 25301 words
When he returned, he seemed to be in a much better mood. He handed the milk to her and stood patiently while she drank it down. Then he asked with a grin, "Wanna dance?"
"What?"
"Dance. As in Harvest Moon. It's in less than three weeks. You want to be good together, right?"
Her mind had drifted right away from dancing when he said 'good together'. He seemed to understand where her thoughts were going and if they were going to be alone together for two days, he had to get her mind in a different place - right now. Because if her mind went there, his was sure to follow.
"C'mon, Luv. Saw yer pile of 45s in the basement. Let's go."
"What were you doing in the basement?" she asked as he pulled her down the steps.
The Rosenberg's basement had been remodeled into an all-purpose room just the year before. A floor of polished red oak gleamed in the artificial light of the wall sconces that lined the walls. Walls paneled in a lighter oak made the room feel warm and intimate. As Willow set up the first records in the record player, Spike pushed the turquoise and gold divan against the far wall.
Willow's newest acquisition 'Could This Be Magic' by The Dubs started to play and Spike smiled.
"Soft and slow, the better to hold you with, my dear," he said with a leer as he took her in his arms.
She cuddled into his embrace, but said with an anxious voice, "No Big Bad Wolf references, please. I don't like... wolves."
Spike pulled back and looked into her eyes. She was serious, it really bothered her. Spike pulled her close once again and dropped his head down to her ear. "I'm not a wolf, baby, and I'll never hurt you. But I am the Big Bad all right. I can be as big and bad as you need me to be."
Willow, very comforted by the thought that someone wanted to take care of her, sighed and moved just a fraction closer, feeling very safe.
They kept the songs soft and slow for a while. Willow, having been knocked unconscious that morning, didn't feel up to the jarring moves necessary when Jerry Lee Lewis or Chuck Berry played. So, they danced through Johnny Mathis singing 'Chances Are' and Sam Cooke's 'You Send Me'. Marty Robbins sang 'A White Sport Coat and a Pink Carnation' and Fats Domino crooned, "Blueberry Hill." Willow pulled Spike down for a kiss. She'd meant the kiss to stay sweet and innocent, she really had. But once his lips touched hers, lightening struck and all good intentions were lost.
There was such heat between them; his touch, his voice, his kisses, his eyes looking at her, it all felt electric. It made her skin tingle and her mind dissolve. The entire world was rocked out of orbit when she was in his arms and if she stopped to think about it, she'd probably be wise to be worried about that. Luckily, her brain never entered the picture.
They had progressed past soft kisses to bites across her neck and hands under her sweater when the telephone rang. Spike didn't want her to answer it, but she said it might be the school and she didn't want them to think she hadn't gone home.
Willow stood - to find that somewhere along the line they had moved to the divan. To laying on the divan! She didn't remember that happening.
She ran upstairs to answer the phone in the kitchen.
"Hello?"
"Hi, sweetheart. The school called and I just now got the chance to call you."
"Hi, Mom," she said, both into the phone and to Spike who had followed her up. He didn't take the hint. He moved behind her and pulled her back against him.
"No, Mom, really, I'm fine. Yes, it was Oz. He was just being an ogre. He tried to bully me and Will."
Will, for his part, was holding up his end of the conversation by slipping his hands beneath Willow's blouse and over her bra to cup her breasts.
"MOM!" Willow shouted.
Mrs. Rosenberg, not privy to what was going on in her own house, was very alarmed. "Willow, what's wrong? Are you all right? I should get out of my two o'clock session and come home."
"NO!" Willow slapped Spike's hands away. "No, Mom, it's just... my head. It hurts. From being slapped against the wall. I'm just going to... going to take some aspirin and read a magazine. You really don't need to come home for that."
Mrs. Rosenberg, who was a very conscientious psychiatrist and hated breaking appointments with her patients, said, "Are you sure?"
Willow gave a mental sigh of relief. "Yes, Mom, I'm sure. I'll see you at six."
She hung up and turned on Spike. "Oh, that was just evil!" she laughed. But she took a few steps closer. "Now is it my turn?"
Spike, who hadn't known he'd enjoy getting his hands on her quite that much, gulped and said, "Oh, look. Twelve thirty. Lunch time. Why don't you go down and relax and I'll make us some lunch."
Willow, disappointed, but knowing just what kind of trouble they might get up to if the fun touching continued, acquiesced.
"Sandwiches okay?" he asked, opening the refrigerator.
"Okay," she said when she reached the bottom step, but Spike didn't hear her. He'd already headed for the bathroom and the relief he could find there.
When Spike returned to the basement, relieved, refreshed and bearing refreshments, Willow was asleep. He dropped the tray and ran to the divan.
"Willow, Luv, wake up, please wake up." The nurse had said she wasn't to fall asleep. It took a few moments but her eyes opened and she smiled at him.
"Hi, Spike."
"Hi, Luv."
"What's for lunch?"
Spike looked at the tray. By some miracle, the sandwiches had survived intact, but the lemonade had spilled. "Roast beef sandwiches and lemonade. Once I get some more lemonade."
The mess was cleaned up quickly and they sat at the bridge table, eating lunch together. It was calm and sweet... and weird. Willow giggled first.
"I know," Spike said, chuckling as well.
"No," Willow reassured him. "I always wanted to date a man who could cook. I burn water."
Spike laughed. "Swell. I'll stay home and cook and take care of our house and you become a famous rocket scientist and bring home the paycheck."
Willow's hand, on its way to her mouth, stilled. She must have heard him wrong. She cleared her throat. "What, um, what did you say?"
Spike put down his sandwich and took hold of her hands. "I said that," he stumbled, wondering how much he should tell her. "I might want to marry you - someday. Might want us to have a life together - someday." It was obvious to both of them that there had been no maybe in Spike's voice.
Willow stood and walked away. "We've been going steady for one day!" She thought about it. He'd never officially asked her to go steady. "Are we, um, going steady?" She'd be so embarrassed after what they'd done if he...
"Yes, Luv, we're going steady," he assured her. "I thought that would be self evident. I wouldn't - I'd never - Willow, I love you and respect you. I'd never take advantage of you."
Willow just stared at him. "You don't love me, you can't! You only met me yesterday! One day! Nobody falls in love in one day!"
He lowered his head. "I did. Three years ago I watched a beautiful redhead stop to help Jonathan after he'd fallen out of a tree during recess. You were so good to him, when all the other kids made fun of him. Warren and that prat Blayne came over and tried to kick him while he was down and you swooped in and put them both in their place. A shy girl who spoke to barely anyone. And then you walked him to the nurse's office and stayed until his mother came to get him. He'd broken his wrist."
Willow looked up at Spike with astonished eyes. "You saw that?"
Spike took her hands and led her over to the divan. "Luv, I saw everything. I saw you outshine everyone else in your classes. I saw you growing smarter than your friends and yet you never seemed to make note of that fact. I saw you climb to the top of the rope in Phys. Ed., even though the girls were supposed to skip that exercise. I saw you tutor your friends and the slower students who asked you.
"I saw you always be on hand to help Buffy through one of her dramatic episodes. I saw you pull Harris through Algebra and Cordelia through Latin. I saw you befriend Angel when Buffy started dating him even though Xander didn't want anything to do with him because he's a jock. Come to think of it, I can sympathise with 'im there."
Willow smiled. Then realized she was smiling and stopped.
"I saw you jump into the arms of that dolt Osbourne the week after I scared you - or thought I had - by kissing you in the museum. I saw you follow him around like a lost puppy and I saw him looking at every other girl that passed his eyes. And I know that he didn't just break up with you. I know that something happened, but I don't know what, and I'll never ask if you don't want me to."
Willow sat in stunned silence. He'd been watching her, watching everything she and her friends did. For three years. That was just... creepy. But a little sweet. But ooky too. But... this mental ping pong was giving her a headache.
"Spike, I think you'd better go now."
"Willow, please, let me explain, let me - "
"No, it's all right," she reassured him. "I just need time to think all this through."
He didn't want to go. He wanted to stay and make her understand.
The doorbell rang.
"That's Buffy and Xander and Cordy. I'll be fine. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Can I call you tonight?"
She opened the door to her friends and said, "I'll see you tomorrow" as he walked out the door.
When Angel opened his window that night, Spike was already there.
"I've lost her," was all he said.
Angel sighed, "You never had her, how could you lose her?"
"I did! She - we - I don't know. We were gettin' on so well."
"Oh? And what did your deep and meaningful conversations consist of?"
"What?"
Angel smiled. "I know that for you, a relationship lasts only as long it takes to get the girl's clothes off; about two hours. But I thought you wanted more with Willow."
"I DO! You know I do!"
"So what did you do to win her heart, Spike? Did you show her what a great guy you are, what a great student? Does she know you get straight A's in all your classes, even the ones you don't bother to show up for? Does she know that you only take auto shop because you have a terrible fear of engines breaking down like the one did on your parents' train? Did you give her flowers and tell she's wonderful and beautiful and you want to know everything about her?"
Spike didn't look up.
Angel knew Spike's faults and it was all getting old. Spike used girls for only one thing, but at least he was honest enough to let them know it ahead of time. He was probably too honest.
'Oh no.'
"Or did you kiss her senseless and get in her pants and blurt out that you're in love with her - even though you just met her formally yesterday? Or better yet, did you tell her that you've been stalking her and her friends for so long that you know their locker combinations?"
Spike looked up at that.
"I didn't get in her pants."
"Oh my God, Spike, you did all that?!" Angel sighed. "Kiss first and talk never. That's you, Spike, it's what you do. I thought Willow meant something to you, I thought she was different. You're right, my friend, you've lost her."
With that, Angel shut his window and walked away.
Spike lay awake all night long trying to figure out what to do.
By eight am, he still hadn't figured it out. By ten am, he still hadn't figured it out but he picked up the phone and called Willow's house. When she said, "Hello?" he lost his nerve and hung up.
By noon, his Uncle Rupert had called from work, called him a "lazy lay about" and told him to rake the leaves since he wasn't as school like he would have been if he hadn't gotten in that fight. So he got up, got dressed and went outside to think while he raked.
The raking is what gave him the clue to - hopefully - fix things with Willow. The key to successful raking, he noticed for the first time, was to take your time. Do one area fully and then move on to the next. Do it right, take your time and sooner or later, you have a leaf free yard.
What he wanted was a leaf free Willow. The metaphor brought the image of a Willow tree slowly shedding its leaves until only a very feminine shaped trunk remained. He shook his head.
Too many flights of fancy, Spike. Keep your head on the ground where it belongs. It's the only way to get Willow back.
Spike put the rake away and ran inside. On the way, a list of suitable date locations popped up in his mind.
Drive-in?
No, looks like I'm tryin' to take advantage.
Well, Willow might not think so, there are people who go ta drive-in's t' watch the movie, mate!
Really?
Well, Angel says so.
Huh, the crazy things some people do.
Okay, where else?
Movie theatre?
More Willow in the dark. Best to avoid tempting situations for a while.
Dinner?
Yes, I can take her to dinner!
Where?
He checked his wallet. Five dollars. Good, but not great for a really nice restaurant.
What 'bout a moonlit picnic?
More Willow alone in the dark.
Not if all her little friends come! I can arrange it with Angel.
Perfect.
When Angel left school for the day, Spike was waiting there with the motorcycle. Angel kissed Buffy goodbye and then walked over to his best friend who had acted like a complete putz the day before.
When Angel walked over to Spike, Spike looked up at him from beneath his lashes and said, "How'd ya like to go for a picnic on the beach with me tonight, Peaches?"
Angel, who had been expecting anything but that, batted his eyelashes and said in a falsetto voice, "Oh, Spike! I didn't know you felt that way about me!"
Spike's eyes grew huge as he looked around and said sotto voce, "Stop it, ya git! Someone'll hear you!"
Angel just laughed.
Angel moved to get on the back of the bike, but Spike revved the engine and backed up a foot.
"Now way yer ridin' with me after that little performance."
Angel wasn't worried. "Do you want my help with your picnic for Willow or not?"
Spike hung his head and held the bike still as Angel climbed on the back. As Angel wrapped his arms around Spike's waist, he said, in the same falsetto voice he had used before, "Oh, Spike! You're so manly with your big..." dramatic pause, "motorcycle."
Spike rolled his eyes and shook his head as he drove away.
A little after seven that night, Spike and Angel sat beside the roaring beach fire they'd made. They had come out early to set everything up; Xander was driving the girls out soon.
Spike had caught a big break when Buffy's mom, who he'd never even met, thought their idea was very romantic and offered to cook and send the food along with Buffy. So Spike didn't even have to grocery shop, which he hated.
But still, wood needed to be gathered - enough for several hours. A spot had to be cleared of shells and twigs and rocks. They found three big logs from a downed tree and hefted them over so that each couple could have their own "bench".
"How come I'm sitting here with you while Xander Harris gets to drive out to this nice spot with three gorgeous women?" Angel asked.
Spike smiled ruefully. "Been wondering the same thing m'self."
Angel laughed. Spike stood, nervous. "Don't leave me alone with 'er, Angel. Walking, talking, playing tag - whatever we do, you come with us, yeah?"
"It'll be fine," Angel reassured him.
Spike looked up worried, "Angel, you know me. You know what I can do. I get a girl alone and in fifteen minutes tops, she's naked and we're fuckin'."
"Sure of yourself, aren't you?" Angel asked skeptically.
Spike just looked at him and turned on head tilt, the shy smile and the sexy eyes.
Angel chuckled and conceded. "One of these days, boy, you're going to get yourself in trouble with that." Spike hadn't turned off the sex appeal yet. "Stop it, Will, or I may have to jump your ass myself."
They both heard a car pull up.
"If it doesn't work out with Willow, you've got yourself a date," Spike said and walked over to make nice with Willow's friends.
The evening was going spectacularly. They'd laughed and talked and Spike pulled out his guitar and they sang a few Ricky Nelson songs and a couple of Jerry Lee Lewis tunes that were a killer on his fingers to play.
Mrs. Summers was an excellent cook. The only setback, in Spike's opinion, was a little too much rum in her rum cake. A giggling Buffy admitted while licking her fingers clean that it had been she who added an extra cup of the good brandy.
After that admission, Angel had "accidentally" knocked the cake over into the sand, ruining it. Almost. Willow and Cordelia had been willing to pick off the top portion that wasn't sandy, but then Spike stepped on it, in his effort to "help". It had taken both Angel and Spike to pry the remains from the somewhat smashed girls and run them to the nearest trash bin.
Spike was thinking this had been a bad idea. Angel put a consoling arm around his friend and assured him that everything would be fine. He just had to use a little self restraint. That's how they were when they walked back into the firelight; Angel with his arm around Spike's neck, whispering in his ear, assuring him it would all work out.
Drunken Cordy popped up at seeing them and said, "Yum!"
Inebriated Buffy turned and scooted next to Drunken Cordy and said, "Don't let us interfere, go right ahead."
"What are you tal-" Angel started to say, but just then Sloshed Willow saw the two extremely handsome men in a pseudo-embrace and excitedly added, "Can we watch?"
Spike and Angel took a self conscious step away from each other. Then another.
They looked at each other, not at the eager girls. "They didn't just say..." Spike asked.
"No, I didn't hear a thing. Buffy, let's go for a walk." Angel said and grabbed her hand and pulled her down the beach, desperate to prove that he was a completely normal - and thereby strictly heterosexual - man.
Spike, feeling the same urges, pulled Willow to her feet before remembering that he wasn't allowed to touch her.
'But 'not allowed' is so strong a phrase.'
After all, this rule was self-imposed so there was no one there to stop him if he...
'Xander and Cordelia!'
Were rolling around on the blanket and Xander's shirt was off and Cordy's was inching its way up.
Willow was no help at all, her hand underneath of his tee shirt and just about -
"Aaaah!" he shouted and backed away. He looked down the beach to where Angel and Buffy had disappeared. He looked down at the blanket to where Xander and Cordy were - He snapped his eyes shut.
He thought, for as long as he could keep a thought that didn't involve getting Willow naked. After six seconds, he said, "Bloody hell!" and grabbed a blanket in one hand, Willow in the other and moved quickly down the beach in the opposite direction than Angel had taken. He was muttering to himself as they walked. After a few feet, he stopped, looked up and said, "This is entirely your fault!" and then kept going. It took him almost a quarter-mile to find a spot he liked. One far enough away that if anyone came up for air, they wouldn't be spotted. And one hidden enough in a grouping of tall rocks that kept them away from wind and surf - and any prying eyes that might wander by.
Willow, still quite happy from the alcohol, cooed and curled into Spike's back as he arranged the blanket on the sand. He sat Willow down in the middle of the blanket and took a step back. He looked down into her bright, trusting eyes and said, "Willow." She smiled seductively and motioned for him to sit down beside her. He took a steadying breath and started again.
"Willow, you have had too much cake. I mean, too much alcohol. You are not in complete command of your senses. I meant what I said before, I respect you - worlds of respect for you," his eyes were on her cleavage. He forced his eyes back up to her hair. And imagined her over him, naked, running that beautiful long russet hair down across his -
'Eyes, look at her eyes!'
They were a beautiful green that was sparkling in moonlight. He started again.
"Willow, I love you and I respect you and I am perfectly," gulp "content" another gulp "to sit here with you all evening and talk. Discuss philosophy, astronomy, rugby, any subject that interests you." He was getting calmer now. He really did want to get to know her, not just her body.
"Luv, whatever you want, I am at your command. But if you don't mind, I'm going to stand up here while we talk, okay?"
Willow had listened patiently while he spoke. The whole time wondering what he looked like under that black tee shirt. She had felt it, but she'd never seen it.
And here, all he wanted to do was talk. She could fix that. Braver, not so self- conscious, sloshed to the gills Willow could fix anything. She reached down and pulled her sweater over her head and sent it flying in the air to land on one of their encircling rocks.
"Bloody hell!" Spike said and fell to his knees in front of her. She met him on her knees as well and Spike grabbed her and kissed her like he'd been dying to all night. He almost came just from that kiss.
Holding himself in control was exhausting. He was used to getting whatever he wanted as often as he wanted. Holding out because he'd finally gotten his little virgin was killing him.
Willow moaned into his mouth as her hands slid under his jacket to his shoulders. Spike shrugged out of the jacket but that wasn't enough for her. She clawed at his shirt and when he pulled away and pulled it over his head she took a moment to admire the perfection. That wolf Oz had been nothing compared to Spike!
Spike did not let his hands stand idly by. With practiced ease, he used his left hand to unhook her bra as his right hand grabbed a strap and pulled it from her body. He cursed the pale moonlight. He wanted to make love to her in a brightly lit room, full of soft candlelight. He'd never been a romantic; hell, he barely looked at the girls he'd fucked, but Willow... Willow was romance and candlelight and soft music and chocolate covered strawberries.
He shouldn't be using her this way, shouldn't be taking advantage of her on some horrid beach in -
"S-s-s-s-s-s-s-s, oooh" he hissed as her mouth licked across his chest.
Sod it, we'll save the candles for another night!
His hands moved to her stomach with gusto, absorbing her heat and her softness.
As her mouth moved to his nipples, his hands did likewise to her. When she licked, he ran a fingertip over the delicious bud. When she sucked, he gasped and moaned and his thumbs and index fingers rolled the tightening peaks gently. When she nipped at him, he plucked at her, making her moan as well.
When she bit down, he thought he'd come out of his pants. He rolled her down onto the blanket and began his assault on her body. He'd learned the other day that she liked to have her neck sucked on and bitten. But he didn't want to leave any marks that would embarrass her, so he was very careful to give her pleasure without marking her. As much as he would have loved to.
She was squirming against him, rubbing up against his hard on, slipping her legs between his to get some of the lovely pressure necessary to bring her some satisfaction. But they couldn't, not yet. He had to prove to her - and himself - that he wasn't just here for the sex. And even if it killed him - and it just might - he was going to do right by her.
But the alcohol had lowered her inhibitions and she wasn't too bashful to seek something she didn't even understand. He wouldn't take her virginity; Willow was the kind of girl you waited for. But her moans and her sighs and her body on his let him know that she was desperate for something and he didn't want to leave her unsatisfied. He could do this - he could. Really.
Grr!
He pulled up onto his hands and knees and worked his mouth down her chest. He felt like he'd seen heaven when, at long last, he was suckling at her breast. She curled her arms around his head and cooed into his hair.
He wanted to curl up and do this for hours but he knew they would be discovered before much longer. Her friends weren't going to stand for her just up and disappearing. They'd come looking for her.
So he rolled to her side and kissed her mouth.
"Baby, there's almost nothing I'd like better than to lick my way down your body, but it's too soon, I think. Or - I think you'll think that, when you sober up. But I have to please you, baby, it's all I've thought about for so long. I'm just goin' ta-"
His hand slid down her stomach and down her leg and he pulled her skirt up.
"I'm not looking, Luv, I haven't seen anything, okay?"
She had her eyes closed and she nodded and giggled. Her hands were exploring those magnificent muscles of his chest and shoulders again.
Seeing, no, but touching, oh yes. His hand found her knickers and worked his way inside. She was moaning and thrashing and trying to touch him as well.
"No, Luv, you don't have to - I'm fine."
He looked up to the heavens and whispered, "Forgive me for lying to the woman I love."
His hands kept at their pursuit, and with soothing, loving words, he coaxed her to spread her legs a little.
His thumb hit her clit and she almost jumped off the blanket.
"Like that, Luv? Lots more there, you'll see. But we're startin' slow tonight. Just relax, baby, Spike's goin' ta make you feel so good."
And he proceeded to do just that. With only his left hand and his eyes always on her face, he explored her body and her folds. Massaging her lips, teasing her clit, and finally pushing one finger inside her. She liked it so he moved around, stretching her. When he added the second finger, he stopped dead. Her hymen was gone.
That mother fucker Oz, I'll kill him if it's the last thing I do!
Willow sensed that something was wrong and stilled as well, looking at him and wondering what she had done wrong this time.
Spike forced himself to relax and moved his fingers again as he leaned in and kissed her.
"Always, baby. You and I are forever, no matter what. And I know that sounds a little scary this early in, but I love you and I will always love you, no matter what. I want you to remember that, ok?"
As he was speaking, his fingers were pumping faster and his thumb was pushing hard against her clit.
She came in his hand with a scream and he wanted more than anything to go down and lick her clean.
Think about raking leaves. One step at a time.
He could smell her and that, combined with his deeply painful hard on was fast making his well thought out plans become a distant memory.
Until she looked at him in wonder and said, "Wow! What was that, Spike?"
It flashed in his mind that even if Oz had gotten there first, he hadn't made her come. And damn him to hell for using her like that and not even taking the time to please her.
"That, my love, was called an orgasm. Lovely, aren't they?"
Willow looked up at him in adoration and said, "Yeah."
Spike chuckled and kissed her.
"Come on, Luv, up you get."
"But, um, what about..." she made a general nudging motion in the direction of his crotch.
Spike groaned. "Not that I don't want to, Luv, believe me, there's almost nothing I want more. In fact, the only thing I want more, right at this moment, is for you to not make your friends wonder where you are. So why don't you start back, it's to the right, and I'll clean up this blanket and such and catch up with you."
He kissed her good and proper to show her that he wasn't upset with her; her welfare was the only thing that concerned him.
"All right," she said and he turned the other way while she found her bra and sweater and put them on again. She smiled and waved and was off to return to the warmth of the bonfire and the company of her friends.
As soon as she'd cleared the opening in the rocks, Spike's hand was unzipping his jeans and the other hand, the one still covered in Willow's delicious juices, went for his dick. He sighed as he leaned back against a rock and pumped for all he was worth. He stopped when he was close to bring his hand to his mouth so he could taste her.
It took nothing more and he came as he sucked on his finger, shooting himself against the rocks that had been their seclusion.
Much later that night, at their windows, Spike and Angel talked.
Angel stood glaring across the expanse.
"Did you have sex with her?"
Spike shouted back, "What do you care, she's my girl, not yours!"
"Will!"
"We... I made love to her. But I didn't fuck 'er if that's what you mean."
Angel stood considering his answer.
"Why did you say we and then change it to I?"
Spike studied the lawn.
"Because... she's a good girl, Peaches. She doesn't... I made her feel good, all right? I didn't make her dirty herself with me."
Angel smiled, "There will probably come a time when she'll want to dirty herself with you."
Spike looked out at the night sky, tilted his head as if examining something and said, "God, I hope so."