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Chapter 5: Play Time

Buffy drifted up to consciousness from somewhere deep and dreamy and rosy pink. Her whole body felt as light as a feather; with the slightest effort she could have elevated off the cabin floor - just like the object of one of Willow’s magic tricks - and floated to the ceiling. She yawned and stretched, feeling the muscles in her legs ripple. Her bare foot touched skin - cold skin she knew only too well. She was smiling as she ran her toes across Spike’s heavily muscled thigh - Then she remembered and her eyes flew open.

She was lying by herself on the floor. William was sitting, back against the wall, with his jeans draped modestly across his middle, staring down at her. His hair was a riot of tiny curls and as she grinned up at him, he glanced away and became very interested in digging a splinter of wood out of one of the floorboards.

“Hi!” Buffy said quietly. “You OK?”

He seemed to be having some difficulty in speaking. At last, after much throat clearing he got out a croaky, “What do you mean, madam, by the letters O - K?”

Buffy sighed. She’d forgotten that she had to speak as if she was Jane Eyre. “I mean, do you feel all right?” she said.

He licked his lips as if they were bruised. “I feel - I had no idea - I had, of course, heard gentlemen speaking in my Club - they said - but I never - ”

“I take it you are, then,” Buffy said briskly, sitting up and hugging her knees to her breasts. “Did you enjoy it?”

William took a quick peek at the damp blond curls he could see between her legs, then averted his eyes again. “Well, madam, I hardly feel it is the sort of subject I could discuss with a lady. But then, I suppose you aren’t a lady, are you?”

“I beg your pardon!” Buffy stared at him.

William bit his lip. “I hope I cause no offence, I realise something very strange has happened to me, and you are a American and so your manners are not quite - but even allowing for your nationality, no lady are obviously no stranger to the arts of the bedroom. After all, I can not imagine that dear Cecily would know what... or have allowed me to - well - indeed no.”

Buffy stared at him, speechless. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The vampire was sitting there, stark naked, accusing her of being a big ho. She had never been so tempted to stake him as she was at this moment. Then the absurdity of the situation hit her. This wasn’t Spike. This was William. What he said couldn’t hurt her. He was only judging her by his own experiences in life. He was a Victorian and from all she’d read about them, sex was a taboo subject. What was the expression she’d heard someone laughing about once at college? Oh yes, “Lie there and think of England,” that was what girls were supposed to do when they got married. She wondered what a shock it must have been to be alone in a room with a man for the first time in your life and have that happen to you when you didn’t even know what a man’s body looked like.

Judging by the stunned look on William’s face, what they’d just done had been a real eye-opener to him.

“So,” he was continuing, and for a moment a hand went to his face in a gesture that Giles made all the time and Buffy realised William was searching for a pair of spectacles he obviously no longer wore. “As you are a woman of some experience, was that...was I - ” his voice went hoarse - “capable?”

Buffy swung round to kneel in front of him. The sight of Spike being shy was an incredible turn on. She could feel the blood surging through her, her breasts felt tight; they ached, the nipples tingled and she longed to feel his cool mouth on them again. She knew that if she was her usual sensible self, she’d get dressed and find some way of getting William/Spike back to Sunnydale. She was sure Willow would find a cure, a way to get Spike back in his body and return William to wherever he’d been sleeping for all these years.

But, geez, she was so tired of being sensible. So weary of always doing the right thing, of looking after everyone, of being Buffy who would always manage, always cope. She’d had to be so strong since her mom had died; strong for Dawn, strong for her friends, strong for everyone. And since Willow had brought her back from the dead, she hadn’t had one day of real fun. Sometimes she looked in the mirror and saw a forty year old woman staring back at her. Suddenly Buffy realised that what she wanted to do, just for a couple of hours, was play. Okay, it was naughty. Perhaps it was unfair. She was, after all, taking advantage of a man who had no experience or knowledge of women. But it wouldn’t be the same as when Faith had switched bodies with her and slept with Riley; Spike and William were basically the same person.

And Spike would never know. She felt a tingle run across her body at the thought of what he would do to her if he did remember. She could almost feel the flat of his cold hand smacking her backside until it smarted - but she would cope with that when and if it happened. At the moment, there was William, naked and sexy in front of her. And she’d just deflowered him - if that was what you did to a man - so she owed him something, didn’t she? There was no reason for this kind, sweet guy to think he was useless in bed. She wasn’t going to do to him what Parker and Angel had done to her, make her doubt herself so badly that her confidence had been shattered.

She knew that until Spike had made love to her that first time in the ruined house, she’d never really believed she was capable of giving a man complete satisfaction. Riley had seemed happy, but she’d always had the vague feeling with him that there was something more she should be doing. Spike had shown her exactly what that was.

“Oh yes, you were very capable, William - for a first time, that is,” she said sweetly. “And yes, I do know some of the bedroom arts as you call them. I had a very good teacher. He’s English, too, you know.”

William shifted uneasily on the hard floor and Buffy’s lips twitched. The poor man was obviously dying to look at her body, but determinedly staring anywhere else. “There seemed to be - ahem - well, a great deal of noise. I never thought, well, I have always known, of course, that gentlemen find it a pleasurable activity, and I must admit that I could not stop myself from crying out at the feelings. But why should a woman - but you seemed, well, towards the end, you were - well - ”

“Screaming?” Buffy added helpfully and felt her thighs tighten. “Oh yes. You’ve no idea of the sensations you caused me, William.”

To her delight, she watched as he pulled the jeans slightly away from his body. She could guess what was happening under that tough denim.

“Would you...?” he cleared his throat and dug out another splinter from the floorboards, “I mean, if it gave you some little pleasure, and I would, indeed, like to become proficient in this past-time, so perhaps we could - ”

“Do it again?”

At last his blue gaze swung round to her and feasted on her breasts. “I seem to’s quite alarming...didn’t think it could be that soon...”

“William, you’re a vampire,” Buffy explained with a smile. “It isn’t the same for you as other men.” Thank God, she said silently and reaching forward, tweaked the covering off of him and felt her eyes widen at what awaited her. Yes, she was going to play, oh heavens, she was going to play so much. She’d deal with guilty feelings later on.

He gasped as she bent forward. “This can be good, too,” she said wickedly and ran her tongue down the steel velvet length. She heard him groan and hiss in delight and reached up with her hands to link them tightly with his, hearing him babbling an endless stream of delight.

When he finally opened his eyes, he stared at her in astonishment. “Madam, that was, oh, I had no idea I could transcend to such a plane of existence.”

Buffy frowned. “I take it you enjoyed that.”

William nodded enthusiastically.

“Well, in that case, do you think you could possibly drop the ‘Madam’ from now on? Can’t you call me Buffy.”

“But we haven’t been formally introduced!”

Buffy kicked him in the ribs with her bare foot and grinned as, with vampire speed, he grabbed her toes and deflected the blow. William and Spike had exactly the same reflexes. “I think what we've been doing for the past hour is a pretty good substitute, William!” she said tartly.

The vampire was struggling with the etiquette of the situation. Yes,he could become a vampire and discover sex in all its forms, but calling a girl by her Christian name when they hadn’t ‘officially’ met, was obviously a far greater barrier to overcome. “I shall continue to call you Miss Summers,” he said finally. “That would be acceptable, surely. Buffy is such a very odd name, but perhaps not to one from the Colonies.”

“No odder than Spike.”

William gave a faint smile. “We had a dog once called Spike. He was a vicious creature to strangers, but very affectionate to me and the family. He ran away one day and got lost. It caused Mother a sadness of heart.”

“Well, we won’t think about that now,” Buffy said hastily.

“No, indeed. I feel that thinking about Mother in this situation would not be seemly, especially as you are still unclothed.”

Buffy ran her hands mischievously across her breast. “My shorts and T-shirt are just over there,” she said, nodding to where they lay discarded on the floor in her hurry to get them off. “Do you want me to put them on?”

William shook his platinum head, his blue eyes burning. “No indeed not,” he whispered. “I have never seen a female body in the natural state before. It is very - arousing. You are a temptress, Madam.”

“I told you, no more Madams!”

William edged closer. “My apologies, Miss Summers. May I enquire - what you did to me just now - the sensation was most gratifying, but you received no pleasure in return.”

Buffy found herself smirking. She had a very good idea where this was leading. “Oh, I enjoyed doing it immensely, William. And you could always reciprocate.”

His eyes grew wider as the implication of her remark sunk in. “You mean - surely not - no woman would - how - ”

Buffy lay back on the floor and beckoned to him.

The climax when it hit her went on and on. Every time she thought she was coming down, his tongue curled again and drove her back over the precipice until she was a sobbing, moaning mass of quivering nerves.

It was dusk when Buffy found enough energy to think and speak again. She ached in places she hadn’t know she had places. She’d lost count of how many times they'd made love. All she knew was that for a beginner, he learnt really fast and if his technique was a little more tentative than Spike’s, he certainly had as much imagination.

Now she realised the vampire was standing, gazing out of the window. “Miss Summers, I have had the most entertaining and educational day, but now I have to face up to the problem of being a vampire. I’m sure it is only a temporary affliction. Once I get home, I’ll call round to the vicarage and ask the Reverend Digby for his advice.”

Buffy stared at him in despair. “William, have you any idea where you are and what year it is?”

The vampire gazed back at her, puzzled. “Of course I know what year it is. The year of our Lord, 1880 and we are in London. I admit I am not sure where exactly, but feel it must be on the outskirts as you spoke of a lake.”

Buffy shut her eyes and sighed. Play time was officially over. The next few hours were going to be just as difficult as she’d feared.

Minutes later, William looked down at the woman sitting on the floor of the cabin, pulling on a pair of brief bloomers - he had no vocabulary in his mind for shorts - and a vest which covered up her breasts - much to his disappointmet.

The acid burns from the Tazksha demon had almost faded from his body. Thin, hard muscled, pale, the white blond hair mussed into a thousand little curls, he looked no different in some ways to how Spike did every time he roused himself from hours of passion. But the eyes were different. Still blue, but softer, puzzled, bewildered by what Buffy had been saying.

“2001? We’re in the year 2001?” He threw back his head and laughed. “Miss Summers, that is a fine jest. You would have me believe that over one hundred and twenty years have passed since Cecily’s party? Why, I would have a long white beard down to the ground were that so!”

“William - Spike - you were turned into a vampire on the night of your Cecily’s party!” Buffy tried to explain. “You can’t die - well, only by wooden stake, or Holy water, or beheading, or - ”

He threw himself down beside her. “Miss Summers, I am aware of all aspects of vampires. Indeed there have been several very exciting stories written about them quite recently. I expect that it where you are obtaining all these fine embellishments. I accept I am a vampire, indeed, I can tell that I am - different. But to be that old - ” For the first time the jollity slid out of his voice to be replaced by an aching note of worry. “That would mean, my dear Mama....”

“Look, William, don’t think about that just yet,” Buffy put in hastily. It seemed so hard that he had to face a grief now that he’d never faced in his past. She didn’t want to inflict that on him. She’d never asked Spike about his family. She’d rather gathered from little clues he and Angel had dropped that ‘William’ had been close to his mother, but Spike had refused to admit that the previous owner of his body had anything to do with him.

“So, 2001”’ He gazed apprehensively up at the window where the light was fading from the sky.

Soon it would be fully dusk and she could get him back to the lake, into the boat and across to the main-land. Once in Sunnydale, Buffy was certain Willow could help him.

“I imagine the world has changed a great deal? Who is on the throne at present?”


William looked anxious. “Well, our dear Queen Victoria is no longer with us, I’m sure. Nor her sons or daughters. So who rules the Empire?”

Buffy groaned and wished violently that Giles would appear in a flash of smoke to take over. Her knowledge of American history was sketchy to say the least. Her knowledge of the British variety was practically nil! “You have a Queen Elizabeth the Second,” she said, picking out the one fact she did know. “But not a lot of Empire left. There’s been wars and revolutions.”

William raised his hand again to push the phantom spectacles back up his nose. “Really, now that is very interest - ”

“Spike! William! Listen, there isn’t time to discuss politics or history. I have to drive you back to Sunnydale for Willow to sort you out.”

“Ah, there’s that strange name again. Well, Miss Summers - ” He got to his feet in one lithe movement and held out his hand. “Let us away. Will we be able to hail a Hackney cab to our destination. I seem - ” he ran his hands over his jeans’ pockets and frowned. “I seem to have no money with me. I fear I must have fallen amongst thieves as well as vampires.”

Buffy let him pull her to her feet. She stood holding this hand, gazing into his eyes, at a loss for words. This was proving so difficult. One minute Spike seemed to accept what had happened and the next he blanked it from his mind and reverted to being a William who had got lost on his way home from a party and was still in London in the year 1880. Then he smiled at her, and the world fell away once more. What was it about his smile that made her shiver, caused her legs to tremble and every nerve in her body to stand up and shriek? No matter if William or Spike was there, the smile was the same - warm, mischievous with a hint of wickedness.

Buffy sighed. “Look, just stay close to me, William. You’ll see all sorts of weird and wonderful things, I expect. But I’ll explain everything when we get home.”

The soft blue gaze slid over her body and she blushed. “I have seen - and done - many wonderful things today, Miss Summers,” he said slowly. “If there are more in store for me, that would indeed be - ”

“Yes, right, let’s get going!” she said interrupting him. She knew if they didn’t get out of the cabin straight away, she‘d pull him down on the floor and insist he made love to her all over again.

She led the way out of the cabin and plunged down the path through the woods, heading for the beach. She just hoped the little row boat would be where she’d left it. It was a soft, warm evening and with the sun dropping fast down behind the tree line, William was perfectly happy to follow in her footsteps. Rounding the final bend, she groaned in delight to find the boat still tied to a log.

“Can you row, William?” she asked, knowing what a mess she’d made of her efforts the last time.

“Certainly, Miss Summers,” he said cheerfully and untying the rope, handed her into the boat with all the courtesy of a mediaeval knight helping his lady into a carriage. He pushed off from the shore and settled himself at the oars. “Where am I heading?”

“Straight out across the lake to the other side,” Buffy replied. “Our car should still be where we parked it. If it hasn’t been stolen!”

“A car?” William raised an eyebrow at her and she pulled her gaze away from the play of his muscles in his arms and chest as he rowed.

“Oh yes. It’s a vehicle to travel in. It has four wheels and an engine. But don’t ask me how an engine works, because I’ve no idea about valves and tappets and starter motors.”

She stopped as he looked at her blankly. Then a faint smidgen of understanding crossed his face. “A few years ago, I remember reading that a German gentleman called Otto invented what he called an internal combustion engine that ran on some sort of fumes. There were rumours that a moving vehicle was about to be constructed. I wonder if it is the same sort of cunning device.”

Buffy sighed and for the first time in her life, wished that Xander was sitting here with her and Spike so he could explain automobiles. What on earth was William going to think when he saw a television screen for the first time!

“You row very well,” she said, trying to change the subject because she could see that dreadful male glint in William’s eyes that meant he was going to be very boring for a very long time about a subject she knew nothing about. “We’re half way across already.”

She bit her lip, remembering the night Spike had rowed her to the island. The beautiful white dress he’d given her, the romantic picnic, the passionate, nerve shaking way they’d made love. And the first quiver of fear ran through her. What would happen if Spike never came back? If William remained in the Sunnydale crypt; a nice, Victorian vampire, adrift in the modern world. A vampire who had to be reminded not to go out in the sun and, as far as she could tell, didn’t have the first idea about how to get his next meal. Thinking of which....

“Are you hungry, William?” she asked tentatively.

William shut his eyes briefly, as if in deep thought. For a second or two, he vamped into game face, then back again. Buffy sat as still as she could in the creaking boat. It had suddenly come to her that this wasn’t Spike. He might be chipped, but he wasn’t Spike. He was a vampire of whom she had no knowledge.

“I have to admit, Miss Summers, that I do have a strange craving for - well, for blood,” William said at last, sounding apologetic. “I imagine this is part of the vampire situation?”

“Oh boy are you right about that!” Buffy said dryly, “Do you know how to feed?”

William looked at her with his guiless eyes and nodded. “Oh yes, I believe so. But please do not concern yourself. I am not sure of the etiquette of the situation, but I think it would be most improper to feed on someone with whom I had just had physical congress.

Buffy tried very hard not to laugh, but couldn’t stop her mouth twitching. She wondered if she could contact Giles and ask him if there was a nice little book about the correct form of behaviour for vampires where sex was concerned. Perhaps she could help William write one, she thought dreamily, lulled by the rhythmic splash of the oars and the creaking of the oars. It could have a nice pink velvet cover and gilt lettering and -

“What the hell!” She was suddenly flat on her back, wedged against the side of the boat with William lying flat on top of her. With a roar he’d dropped the oars and flung himself at her and now lay spread-eagled across her body. Oh God, she thought, seeking for leverage to push him off. He’d attacked her! She was going to have to stake Spike. Oh no, oh please God no! She couldn’t lose him this way. Not now, not when she’d finally realised how much she -

“Don‘t move, Miss Summers! Not an inch. It’s passing overhead.” William’s cool mouth was pressed against her ear, his breath tickling her skin.

“What is it? Spike? I mean, William?”

“Up in the sky. A great silver monster, with red eyes, roaring. A dreadful demon. Don’t be afraid. I’ll defend you. I’ll fight to the death. I won’t let it get you.”

Buffy wriggled her head free and peered over the pale shoulder up into the darkening sky. The lights from a large plane heading for the airport were dwindling into the distance. “William, get off me. It isn’t a monster or a demon. It’s just - well, just another form of transport. It flies through the sky from place to place.”

William gazed down into her face, still not unlocking his legs from around hers. She could see that he was struggling with this new information and also aware that her body and his were reacting in their usual fashion to each other. “I have seen a man ascend in a basket suspended under a hot air balloon,” he said at last.

“Yup, well, you get the general idea, then,” Buffy said, aware of the fact that she was spreading her legs until she could touch each side of the boat with her feet. Oh god, she wanted to spread them and - the buttons on her shorts gave up the unequal struggle and burst open. A growl broke from William’s throat and for a second a wave of delight swept over her. She was sure Spike was back. But no, it was William’s hand that slid down his own zipper.

“Not the right place or time - ” she gasped but her body wasn’t even listening to her brain. She had taken him inside with one hard, long plunge and within seconds the boat was rocking violently as he plundered her body and and roared his release.

William slowly pulled himself off Buffy and sat back, searching for the oars. One had freed itself and floated a little way off. He leant over to reach for it, then froze. Only a couple of yards away, something huge, foul, pulsating and purple was heaving itself through the water towards them. And William was quite certain that this time it wasn’t some invention of this year 2001, but a genuine monster he was seeing, and one that was determined to destroy them.

The moon was just rising as a heaving, roiling mass crashed onto the lake shore. Great gobs and chunks of purple flesh, oozing yellow blood, a clump of intestines - still wriggling - and the splintered remains of a small boat. The next wave tossed up two exhausted bodies. Buffy groaned and rolled over in the sand, moaning as it tore at the various cuts and scratches all over her body. She yelped in disgust as she realised she was still holding one of the creature’s eyeballs where she’d gouged it out with her fingers. “Euuwwwu, messy! Gross!” She flung it away from her and bent to rinse her hands where the waves were cleaner. “William - are you okay?” She turned, worried, to where the vampire was slowly rolling over onto his knees. He’d fought with all the power and skill that had made Spike such a feared figure down the years. Buffy knew she would have had a hard job trying to quell the lake monster on her own.

“Miss Summers, we have survived! Goodness, that was - extremely interesting. I had no idea that such a creature existed. I wonder if it is one of the new species found in the Southern Atlantic recently?” He looked up at her and she was startled to find he was smiling, the blue eyes - so much softer somehow than Spike’s - were gleaming with delight. “We fought very well together, I submit. I had no idea I possessed that very useful skill of butchery. I was particularly impressed by the way you locked your legs around the beast as I tore off its tentacles.”

“Oh yes, William, I could win an Olympic gold medal for killing squelchy demony water monsters. In fact, if there was a competition for putting your hands into grossness, I would beat all comers. Uggh, I can still smell it on my hands and my nail-polish is completely ruined!”

“I fear the row boat is no more, Miss Summers. I trust the owner will not need immediate recompense?”

Buffy sighed. She had no idea where Spike had got the boat from in the first place. Or what deal he’d made. She had a sneaking feeling he’d probably “borrowed” it without the owner’s permission. “William, let’s head for the car and get you to Sunnydale. Now, listen, a car is a vehicle that makes a noise and moves along the road, apparently by itself. You’re not going to freak out on me, are you? - and stop licking your fingers!”

William stood up from where he’d been dabbling his hands in the yellow blood and sucking on them. His teeth flashed white in the moonlight. “I must apologise for my lack of manners. I’m afraid I suddenly realised I was, indeed, extremely hungry and although this blood has a strange, rather fishy taste, it still goes down remarkably well - ”

Buffy shuddered and turned away. “Stop forgetting he‘s a vampire,” she muttered to herself as she marched up the slope towards where they’d left the car. “Evil, okay, chipped evil, but still countless years of evilness.” And she ignored the voice in her head that mocked her, saying the only reason she was upset was that quite often, after they‘d made love, Spike licked his fingers in exactly the same fashion.