Blue Eyed Devil

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Part thirty-nine...
 
 
 
Buffy stretched out on the bed, rubbing against the
satiny sheets like a pleased kitten.
 
Devlin moved his hands down her body in long long
sweeping caress, enjoying the smoothness of her skin and
the flesh beneath that was both soft and firm.
 
He squeezed the full mounds of her breasts, then circled
his fingers on her abdomen. When she tensed, he leaned
over and kissed it gently, until she went limp again.
 
Sliding further down, he lifted one small foot and
kissed the delicate instep. Being careful not to tickle,
he nibbled her toes, then took the smallest one into
his mouth and sucked softly.  She squirmed, but he
caught the increased scent of her arousal so he knew
she was all right.
 
He kissed a path up her legs, carefully parting her
thighs and settling between them.  She was moist and
glistening in the soft lamplight, and he inhaled deeply,
her scent swirling around his head and making him
dizzy.
 
The temptation to eat the juicy peach between her
legs was strong, but he wanted other things first, so
he didn't linger there.
 
He continued upwards, first his mouth, then his fingers
blazing a path. Over her abdomen, up her arm to her
shoulders, then back down her throat.
 
Lying quiescently beneath him, Buffy suddenly arched
her back, begging silently for his attentions to her breasts.
 
Highly pleased by the gesture, he laid a tender trail of
kisses over her breasts, starting at the lush under curve
and working his way up.
 
A light touch of his tongue on her nipple broke her
silence. One soft gasp and husky moan followed another
as he sucked and licked the tight peaks.
 
Buffy's legs parted, and her hips thrust up sharply in
another wordless demand.
 
He had to pull away to keep himself from blindly
thrusting into her.
 
She complained by whimpering in her throat, a
sound that turned to pleasure when he slid his hand
down between her legs and inserted two fingers up in-
side of her.
 
"There you are," he murmured, licking her ear. "That
better, love? Does it help?"
 
The folds of her sex clung to his fingers as he worked
them in and out of her, slowly at first, then a bit faster,
then a little faster still.
 
He caught her mouth beneath his, smiling when
her lips parted and her tongue searched for his.
 
Kissing her deeply, his thumb swept back and
forth over her clit, rubbing the slick button. She
placed on hand over his, making him press down
harder.
 
Amazed, he watched as her orgasm began to
build. The fluids she was producing were making
things even more slippery and heated. He was torn
between the desire to take his fingers out of her and
lick the taste of her from them, and the knowledge
that he couldn't stop when she was so close.
 
He brought her off twice, each climax short and
sweet, not the lingering waves that he usually felt
ripple through her body.
 
"Stop," she panted, even as her internal muscles
clamped down on his fingers.
 
"Not yet," he said. "One more."  His fingers curled
upwards, easily finding the little swelling cushion of
flesh. He pressed up, increasing the pressure a bit
at a time. 
 
Buffy couldn't hold back the cries that poured from
her throat. Her feet planted firmly on the bed, she
arched her hips and screamed his name....then
slowly....slowly....settled back down.
 
"Oh....oh, god...." she panted, licking her dry lips.
"What....what did you just do?"
 
Devlin chuckled, delighted with the response he was
getting from her.  "Another first," he said. "Your G-spot."
 
Withdrawing from the recess of her body, he took her
clit between his finger and thumb and pinched, rubbing
up and down again, capitalizing on her increased sen-
sitivity.
 
"Oh, no," she moaned. "I....I can't....not again...."
 
"You can."  He continued rubbing. "You will."
 
Almost without her even knowing it, her hips lifted
to push against his pleasuring hand.
 
"Do it again," he encouraged her. "Come for me,
kitten....do it...."
 
"Spike," she cried. "I'm....oh....yes!"
 
She came again, in another rush of hot juice.
 
It was over with a few deep shudders. Buffy fell back
on the bed, all her muscles becoming loose and fluid.
 
"That....that was amazing," she said. "So...so intense."
 
He smirked at her as he withdrew his fingers and
licked them. "I could tell you liked it. Never heard you
scream so loud."
 
"Spike!"
 
"What?"
 
 
**************************************************
 
 
"Shower or bath?"
 
"You choose."
 
He made a show of great concentration.
 
"Well, we've already showered together. Let's try a
bath."
 
Buffy nodded and sat down on the side of the enormous
bathtub, leaning down to twist the faucets.  She found the
proper temperature, then stood up and dropped her robe.
 
"Holy fuck!"
 
She turned and looked at Spike. "What?" she asked
innocently.
 
Shaking his head as though he was trying to kick start
his brain, he said, "You. Standing there like that. Bare
ass naked in the candlelight."
 
"You like?"
 
"Christ, yes!  Come here."
 
"No...bath first."
 
"Hell with it. I want to fuck you."
 
"Such language," she scolded mildly, retreating to
the opposite side of the tub.
 
He paced after her. "Okay, I want to screw you."
 
"Spike!"
 
"Lay you?"
 
"Will you stop?"
 
"Shag you senseless?"
 
"Get away!"
 
"Buffy!" He dropped the towel and gestured south-
ward. "Look at me!"
 
She looked, delicious shivers chasing up and down
her spine.  He was rigidly hard. His shaft had a deep
reddish tinge to it, and was oozing semen.
 
"That looks...uncomfortable," she observed.
 
"It is," he whined. "In fact....it's starting to hurt."
 
"Really?"  Was that possible?
 
"Yes, really." He gave her his most winning smile. "Do
something."
 
The hungry look in his eyes won her over. "Oh, all right.
Climb in the tub," she instructed him.
 
"What?" He tilted his head quizzically. "No. I thought..."
 
"Get in the bathtub."
 
"But...but the bed...."
 
Buffy stepped into the tub herself, then picked up a bath
mitten fashioned from a soft sponge, and a bottle of scented
body wash. "Come on," she coaxed him, hoping she knew
what she was doing.
 
When he saw her slip the mitten on and soak it in the
hot water, he grinned happily. "Yes, Miss Buffy."
 
He sat back, leaning against the tile. Buffy stepped
between his outstretched legs and sat down, then squirted
a glob of soap into the mitten and worked up a thick, creamy
lather.
 
She started at his shoulders and washed her way down
his body, paying special attention to his chest and
his lower abdomen.  She had him lift one leg, washed
it thoroughly, then moved on to the other.
 
After he was completely rinsed, she had him sit on the
side of the tub. She applied a little more soap to her
bath glove, then wrapped it firmly around his erection
and squeezed.
 
He muttered something under his breath that she
couldn't quite understand.
 
Keeping her hand around him, she slipped it up and
down the turgid length of his penis, teasing him by
going very slowly.  He hissed air in between his
clenched teeth, lifting his hips slightly.
 
"Faster," he pleaded.
 
She increased her speed only by a fraction. "Like
this?"
 
"Mm-hmm....more."
 
The soap laden glove slid easily up and down. She
could feel him growing even harder in her hand.
 
Glancing up, she saw that his eyes were closed in
fierce concentration. The candlelight flickered gently,
playing in his hair and across the sharply handsome
planes of his face. 
 
She began moving just a little bit faster, her movements
eliciting a soft groan from him.
 
When his hips began lifting to meet her strokes,
she made a cup of her left hand and filled it with
water, then rinsed the soap off.
 
"Buffy," he gasped in frustration. "Please...please,
love...."
 
Before she could lose her nerve, she lowered her
head and took him into her mouth, sliding her lips
down as far as she could take him.
 
Spike opened his eyes, watching her. His hand
removed the butterfly clip securing her hair, re-
leasing it to fall down like a silky cloud around her
face. The soft tresses danced across his thighs
as her head moved up and down.
 
"God, Buffy....yes. That's so good," he whispered,
stroking her hair back so as not to hide the view of
what she was doing to him. "Suck harder, love. Use
your tongue on it."
 
She increased the suction, her cheeks hollowing as she
drew upwards. Letting the head slip from her mouth,
she licked him as delicately as a little cat, swirling her
tongue around his glans, then stroking just under the
ridge.
 
Spike continued to watch with half closed eyes as
his breathing changed to sharp, intense gasps for
air.
 
Buffy licked her lips and took him back in, closing
her eyes when she tasted the salty sweetness of
his semen.
 
"Buffy....suck me deeper....suck me hard."
 
She made a growling noise in her throat as she
slid further down, sliding her tongue up and down the
prominent vein and letting the vibration of her voice
increase his pleasure.
 
Spike pushed his fingers into her hair, holding her
and guiding her up and down, his hips jerking forward
slightly. He was almost dizzy with the vibrant need
to ejaculate, desperate for it, but he was enjoying her
tender touch beyond anything else.
 
Hard to believe this was the same woman who had
turned eleven different shades of red when he'd teased
her about listening to the music that first night at Union
Jack's. 
 
Somehow, in the past week or so, she had gone through
a dazzling metamorphosis, changing from a shy,  reserved
school teacher into the wanton little sex kitten crouching
between his spread legs, sucking his dick with a skill that
was completely natural.
 
Her timidity was gone, for the moment anyway...he had
no doubt it would be back. But that was fine with him. He
loved the way she kept him guessing, kept him wondering
who he would be dealing with at any given time.
 
She sucked him sweetly, then licked her way from the
base of his shaft to the head.  When she brought her hand
up to cup his sac and fondle him there, he was certain he
was about to lose his mind.
 
His climax was beginning to build in earnest. God, he was
so close...so damn close....
 
"Buffy...honey...I'm going to come soon...I can't....can't
hold it....back...love..."
 
She looked up at him, but kept sucking, moving her head
in his grasp so he could feel all of her mouth.
 
Spike's control was dwindling rapidly.  "Buffy....baby...let
me do it....let me come in your mouth...please, baby. It
feels so good when you don't stop. Can I?  Please.."
 
She answered him by slipping her free hand around and
grasping his backside, urging him to thrust.
 
He took her signal without question, pushing himself
in and pulling back out, over and over again, watching
his dick emerge from her sweet little mouth,  all shiny
from her saliva.
 
Buffy bore down further, tugging at him with the pressure
of her mouth, making him grunt with enjoyment.
 
When he felt the gentle scrape of her teeth, he knew
it was all over. Releasing one last, harsh cry, he pumped
himself into Buffy's mouth with ecstatic pleasure, letting
his orgasm swell from his balls up through his belly.
 
His shaft pulsed and contracted, stiffening even more
as his semen jetted out of him, spurting with deep throbs
into her mouth. "Yes! Oh, fuck....yes....Buffy...Christ,
baby....suck me....do it....hard...HARD!"
 
As wonderfully draining as it was, he couldn't look away,
had to watch, loving the sight of her taking it all, sucking
it out of him, swallowing it, then licking him clean with her
pretty, pink tongue.
 
"Ohhhhh...." he groaned, leaning back against the tile
wall. "Baby...you do me so damn good."
 
Buffy sat back on her heels in the water, smiling
in a way that told him how pleased she was with him and
with herself, as well. 
 
"Let's get in bed, love.  I've gotta rest."
 
Her green eyes glowed with a purely feminine pride,
but all she said was, "All right."
 
 
**************************************************
 
 
 
They hadn't been beneath the sheet for more than
two minutes when Spike rolled over and kissed her,
his tongue thrusting deeply into her mouth.
 
Definitely NOT a 'goodnight' kiss.
 
He reached down between Buffy's thighs, coaxing
that sweet moisture out of her again. "Bloody hell,"
he muttered, "you're always so wet and hot for me,
Buffy. You're so fucking unbelievable."
 
Nudging her legs farther apart, he settled down in
between them.
 
"You're ready for me now," he added, angling his
hips to rub his newly hardened cock against her
opening.
 
She gripped his biceps, holding him back. "Wait a
second. I thought you needed to rest."
 
"I did. I'm rested."
 
"Already?"
 
"Uh-huh."  He gave her that wickedly sexy look
that always turned her to jello. "You gonna let me in?"
 
"Well...."
 
"Please, Buffy....beautiful, sexy little school teacher,"
he cajoled. "Invite me in."
 
Sighing, she parted her legs further for him. "You must
think I'm a real push-over."
 
"No. Swear to God, I don't....a little more, babe. That's
it....yeah...oh, yeah.."
 
Reaching down, he took his shaft into his hand and
rubbed the head against her, coating it with her wetness.
 
Buffy inhaled sharply when he brushed against her
clit, then lingered to rub her there a little harder.
 
"You like that? Do you?"
 
"Yes...I love it," she murmured, digging her nails into
his arms. "You know I do."
 
"But I like to hear it. I love hearing your pleasure. The
things you say....those sweet little sounds you make
when I'm hitting all the right places."
 
He loomed over her in the dark room as she raised
her knees.
 
"You don't need any more rest?"
 
"I need you," he whispered, dipping his head to bite
at her ear lobe. "I need to be inside you...as deep as I
can go."
 
"Oh."  She clutched him tighter. "I...oh...."
 
"I want to feel you come," he said, swaying his hips
from side to side. "I love the way it feels when you
tighten around my cock...when you pour that cream
all over it...oh, Buffy....baby...."
 
Her moan became a gasp when he did something
delicious, a wet, licking caress up and down her labia
with the head of his penis.
 
"I want in now, baby...want to slide in all the way...all
the way in that tight little pussy...want to go slow...make
it last...."
 
Good as his word, he positioned himself and began that
deep, lingering penetration.  She could feel every inch of
him gliding into her, smooth as hot silk, filling her com-
pletely.
 
"Oh, Christ," he bit out, setting his jaw. "That's it...it's
in all the way...ahhhh...yeah."
 
For a long, wonderful moment, he didn't move except
to grind down against her.
 
Buffy's fingers danced down his back to the base of
his spine, then smoothed out and caressed his damp
skin.
 
"I love you," he panted hotly in her ear. "Love you so
fucking much. I'd die without you."
 
He was holding himself off her, leaning his weight on
his forearms. Tenderly, she brushed his sweaty curls
back from his face. "Spike..."
 
"Say you love me," he pleaded. "Just me...no one else."
 
"I love you," she whispered, lifting her hips to him. "I only
love you. No one else. Not ever."
 
"Just me," he repeated, thrusting hard. "I'm your man."
 
"Yes...yes...yes..." she chanted, becoming lost in the
rhythm. "You are...only you."
 
He pumped his hips harder, alternating his thrusts with
the side to side motions, making sure to stimulate her
clit with each inward push.
 
Buffy's toes curled into the mattress as their bodies
slapped together and pulled apart, surging and writhing
together, sticky and wet.
 
"Arch your back," he demanded. "I want your breasts. I
want to suck them."
 
She obeyed, watching him lower his head and engulf her
right breast in his mouth.
 
He suckled hard, moving his head around and tonguing
her nipple. Every time he sucked hard, she could feel an
answering twitch down in her womb.
 
He began licking her then, his tongue flat and wet,
covering the surface of her breasts with greedy hunger,
lapping with hard strokes. Burying his face in the hollow
between them, he clenched the cheeks of his ass and
began pounding in harder and faster.
 
Losing himself in the delirium, he nuzzled her. He
was quite certain that he could do this forever. Just lay
on top of her and thrust his aching flesh in as he
suckled her tits like a ravenous child.  God it was good.
 
Nothing had ever felt this way. So good. So hot and wet
and tight. It was fantastic.
 
And the love...the love made it perfect.
 
Love elevated this to something far beyond sex. No matter
how down and dirty it got, how many raw words were
shouted, the love they shared made it sweet.
 
His mouth moved over her, licking and tasting, and kissing
every inch of her breasts. His tongue painted circles
around her nipples, then flicked rapidly over them before
he took her back in to suck on her again. 
 
As good as it was, he didn't protest when he felt her
trying to pry him away from her breasts. He raised his
face and looked at her, seeing what she wanted in the
heated glow of her eyes.
 
"Kiss me," she said softly.
 
He covered her mouth with his, and everything around
them melted into a vortex of heat and moist, tender
flesh.  Her lips were velvet, coaxing and caressing
his tongue as it slid between them to play with hers.
 
As they kissed, he moved his hand down and began
to finger her clit, stroking it gently, spreading the wet-
ness around on it.
 
Buffy whimpered, her head jerking back and grinding
into the pillow.
 
"There it is," he said, encouraging her to feel it all. "You
know what's coming, don't you?  You know how it'll
feel...how it'll pull your soul right out of your body..."
 
He rubbed his fingers against that hot, throbbing
pleasure spot, pushing down harder with every thrust
of his dick.
 
Her body was a tensed, arched bow beneath him. She
was close, he could feel it and he could smell it.
 
"Come on, baby," he said, pinching her gently, "Do
it...come for me...you're so pretty when you come.
So sweet and sexy."
 
Buffy met every thrust, rocking against him, her
mind going on temporary walk-about from everyday
life.
 
"You, too," she choked. "You....come..."
 
"With you?" he finished. "Oh, I will, baby. I...will..."
 
It ended with a mutual cry of satisfaction, with a hot,
bursting gush of him inside her, with a tightness clamping
around him like a velvet fist, milking him, draining him.
 
Spike's arms finally gave out, and he collapsed on
top of Buffy with a whispered apology as every muscle
in his body turned to water.
 
When he felt her little fingers moving gently over him,
stroking him, petting him...he knew she was just fine.
 
"Love you," he slurred, drifting into sleep, unable to hold
it off.
 
"I love you, too. See you in my dreams?"
 
"Mm-hmmmm...."
 
 
 
 
Part Forty....
 
 
 
Buffy woke on Saturday morning to the sound of
music. Rolling over onto her back, she focused her
sleepy eyes on the source.
 
 
"Never know how much I love you
Never know how much I care..."
 
 
Her lover was lounging in an overstuffed armchair, his
feet propped up on a matching hassock, playing his
'favorite' guitar and singing for her. 
 
Stark naked.
 
 
"When you put your arms around me
I get a fever that's so hard to bear
You give me fever....when you kiss me
Fever when you hold me tight..."
 
 
This beat the hell out of any alarm clock she'd ever
owned. She propped herself up on one elbow, pushing
her hair out of her eyes, studying the delightful sight
before her.
 
 
"Fever in the morning
Fever all through the night."
 
 
He glanced up and saw her watching him, giving her a
lecherous wink.
 
 
"Sun lights up the day time
Moon lights up the night
I light up when you...call my name
And you know I'm gonna treat you right"
 
 
His voice was soft and husky, and unbearably intimate
in tone.  Rising to his feet, he prowled slowly towards the
bed, never taking his eyes off her.
 
 
"You give me fever...when you kiss me
Fever when you hold me tight.."
 
 
Moving over a little, Buffy patted the empty spot on
the mattress.
 
 
"Fever...in the morning
Fever all through the night..."
 
 
Spike sat beside her, leaning back against the
padded headboard. Giving her a sidelong look, he
played a few bars without singing.
 
 
"Now you've listened to my story
Here's the point that I have made
I was born to give you fever
Be it Fahrenheit or centigrade..."
 
 
Buffy smiled, trailing one hand across her
forehead, then fanning her face, both actions
designed to convey the notion that she was
definitely feeling that fever.
 
 
 
"I'll give you fever, when I kiss you
Fever till you live and learn
Fever....till it sizzles
What a lovely way to burn
Yeah, what a lovely way to burn..."
 
 
With a final flourish of his fingers on the strings,
he set the guitar aside and sank his right hand into
Buffy's hair, tugging her head back gently, kissing
her until her toes curled.
 
 
"Gee," she said when he pulled back, "if I could
have you wake me up like this every morning...I
would NEVER complain again about having to get up
so early."
 
Spike chuckled. "We'll have to see what we can
do about that, won't we?"
 
And before she could even think up a reply to THAT
provocative statement, he was kissing her again, doing
it so well and so thoroughly that all her higher brain
functions ceased to cooperate, leaving instinct and
desire running the show.
 
Moments later, as he lay on top of her, thrusting gently,
steadily, again and again, he placed his lips against her
ear and half-whispered/half-sang, "What a lovely....lovely
way....to....burn....."
 
 
****************************************
 
 
San Francisco was putting on a show of beautiful
weather when they stepped out the front doors of the
hotel.
 
The sun was high in the very blue sky,  but it wasn't creating
a  blazingly uncomfortable heat. There was just the slightest
hint of a breeze keeping things nice and cool. 
 
It was the sort of day Buffy's grandmother had always
described as "a pretty one".
 
A valet pulled up in the circular drive and jumped out of a
small two-seater convertible with its top down, then dashed
around and opened  the passenger side door for Buffy.
 
"Another car?" she asked, her eyebrows arching. "Whose
is it this time?"
 
Spike grinned, handing the valet a folded bill and sliding into
the driver's seat. "Actually....I've been thinking about buying
it. It belongs to one of the road crew and he's been looking to
sell.  D'you like it, babe?"
 
"Yeah, it's adorable. What is it?"
 
"It's a 1974 MG Midget. Fully restored," he informed her,
pulling out into the light morning traffic.  "Just the right
size for you and me, love. No one else."
 
Buffy reached into her handbag and found an elastic band,
then proceeded to gather up her hair and tie it back.
 
"Uh-uh," Spike said, grabbing the elastic away from her. "I
love it down...you know that."
 
She was about to tell him that he wouldn't love it quite
as much if she had to spend the day combing out all
the snarls that the wind would produce, but after that
comment, she didn't really much care.
 
 
****************************************
 
 
He took her to brunch at a teahouse in Golden Gate
Park, then down to Fisherman's Wharf for a one hour tour
of the bay.
 
Even though the Wharf was rather looked down on by
some of the city residents as a tacky, "touristy" thing to
do, Buffy enjoyed it immensely. They wandered up and down
it, holding hands, watching the people fishing, and
spending a great deal of time observing the collection of loud
mouthed sea lions basking in the sun just a few feet from them.
 
Devlin bought her a pair of pearl earrings and a chunk of
driftwood with a hand blown glass sea lion perched on top of
it.  Much against her will, he bought small cups of shrimp in
cocktail sauce and fed it to her as they wandered through the
displays of fresh seafood, and it tasted so good that she tried
not to think about the possible sanitation issues.
 
At a little past four o'clock, they reluctantly headed back to
the hotel.
 
The evening was more or less a repeat of the one before,
made slightly more poignant by the knowledge that their
time together was coming to an end.
 
 
****************************************
 
 
"Here, I have a present for you."
 
Buffy glanced up as Spike came into the bedroom,
holding something behind his back. She placed her
hairbrush down and waited.
 
"What is it?" she asked with forced cheerfulness.
 
"Well, it's not all that much," he admitted, pulling a
piece of black fabric from behind him. He shook it out,
revealing a cotton T-shirt with the bands name and
those hypnotic eyes silk screened on it. It looked big
enough to hold three or four people her size.
 
"I just thought....well, I'd kind of like to imagine you....sleep-
ing in it.  Just the shirt, nothing else."
 
She accepted the gift, smiling up at him. "Oh, honey...I
love that idea. Thank you."
 
His own smile grew so wide then that she wondered what
on earth she'd said to inspire it. "What?"
 
"Nothing, it's just...that's the first time you've ever
called me that." 
 
He looked so boyishly pleased by it that Buffy could have
kicked herself for not realizing sooner that she'd never
called him by anything other than his name. 
 
He, on the other hand, was full of affectionate nicknames
for her; sweetheart, baby, angel, and a host of others that
seemed to fall from his lips with natural ease.
 
"Oh," she said, scolding herself. "I haven't been a very good
girlfriend, have I?" 
 
Spike sat down on the bed next to her. "I wouldn't say that."
 
Buffy rose to her knees and cupped his face between her
hands. "Will you give me another chance....sweetheart?" she
asked, smoothing her thumbs over his cheekbones.
 
"Always, baby," he whispered back. "Always."
 
 
****************************************
 
 
"Okay, San Francisco!  You've been fantastic!" Spike
called out from the stage. The crowd responded with a
mad round of applause, cheers and whistles.  "We hate to
have to go!"
 
Oz played a few bars of "I Left My Heart In San Francisco"
and the audience went momentarily wild. It took them a full
two minutes to settle down again.
 
"I think that means we'll be back," Devlin announced. "But
let's have one more song before we go, huh?"
 
The crowd was loudly in favor of the suggestion.
 
 
"A hundred days had made me older
since the last time that I saw your pretty face.
A thousand lights had made me colder and
I don't think I can look at this the same
But all the miles that separate
disappear now when I'm dreaming of your face..."
 
 
 
Sitting again on the stool offstage, Buffy listened
attentively. She'd not heard this one before.
 
 
"I'm here without you, baby
But you're still on my lonely mind
 
I think about you, baby
And I dream about you all the time
 
"I'm here without you, baby
But you're still with me in my dreams
And tonight...it's only you and me..."
 
 
 
The lyrics were hauntingly evocative, spelling out
their immediate future quite clearly.
 
 
"The miles just keep rolling
as the people leave their way to say hello
 
I hear this life is over-rated
But I hope that this gets better as we go
 
I'm here without you, baby
But you're still on my lonely mind
I think about you, baby
And I dream about you all the time..."
 
 
 
Tears misted her eyes, blurring her vision for a
moment.
 
 
"Everything I know, and anywhere I go
It gets hard but it won't take away my love
 
And when the last one falls, when it's all
said and done
 
It gets hard but it won't take away my love..."
 
 
 
Moving across the stage, every turn of his body
was natural and spontaneous as he sang to a
rapt and adoring audience.
 
Buffy sat there, watching the man she loved across
a vast distance, slightly numb with a force of
confused emotions.
 
 
"I'm here without you, baby
But you're still on my lonely mind
 
I think about you, baby
And I dream about you all the time..."
 
 
 
For a moment, Buffy sincerely regretted ever coming
to San Francisco. They would both be leaving tomorrow,
but going in opposite directions.
 
It was going to hurt. Badly.  Maybe even more than
it had the first time.
 
How would she survive it?  Had she been blindly
oblivious to the reality, not wanting to examine it too
closely lest it overwhelm her, thinking that nothing
external could come between them?
 
This wasn't something they could pretend wasn't
there. The fame and fortune, all the women who
adored him, the physical separation of two people
who lived in vastly different worlds.  These things
were a cold, hard fact.
 
Spike Devlin and an audience were a perfect match,
a symbiont of energy and passion, feeding from each
other.  The last thing in the world she wanted to do
was hold him back.
 
But where would she fit in?   
 
 
"I think about you, baby
But you're still with me in my dreams
 
And tonight, girl
It's only you and me...."
 
 
She was so preoccupied, she didn't notice the
ear drum bursting roar from the crowd, had no idea
that the concert was over. The noise was fuzzy and
indistinct, and she wouldn't have been able to tell
whether they were applauding or throwing old shoes. 
 
It wasn't until she felt a hand on her cheek that she
left off her unhappy musings.
 
"Hey...you all right, love?"
 
His voice was concerned, so she did her best to
respond the right way.
 
"I'm just fine, sweetheart," she said softly, leaning
against him and sighing deeply. "Just fine."
 
If he didn't believe her, he showed no outward sign
of it.  "Want to go and get something to eat...or go back
to the hotel?"
 
"Let's do both," she said. "I've been dying for a little
room service."
 
Predictably, one eyebrow arched teasingly. "I think
I can provide that."
 
 
Part Forty-one.....
 
 
 
Hi, baby.....bet you didn't expect to be hearing from me
quite so soon, did you?   Well, I wrote this last night and
slipped it into your bag this morning while you were
brushing your teeth and doing all those other things you do
that makes you smell so good all the time. 
 
See, I couldn't sleep last night. Not that you didn't tire me
out, because you always do....and I always love it.  But
I just couldn't seem to close my eyes. 
 
 All I wanted to do was lie next to you and watch you
sleep, and memorize every part of you. 
 
So, I did that for a while, taking you in...breathing you in.  I
needed to do that, luv. I want to imprint you on my brain and
in my memory....everything about you....your face and your
voice, the feel of your hair and your skin....the warmth of your
breath....your touch.
 
By the time you're reading this, I'll be on my way to Seattle
and wondering what the hell I'm doing....why am I going
in the  wrong direction? 
 
Why aren't I on that plane with you, holding your hand and
telling you that we'll be on the ground soon, and then have
you tell me that that's NOT what you wanted to hear right
after take off....
 
What am I doing, Buffy?  Why am I moving away from you
when everything inside of me is screaming to move towards
you.  God, this is all starting to feel like the biggest mistake
I've  ever made, going on this tour.
 
And, baby....how am I going to make it all the way to the
end?  I wish someone could tell me that, because I don't
understand it....and I don't know if I can do it.
 
Last night, after we made love, you fell asleep with your
body pressed against mine.  That's just the most perfect
feeling in the world, holding you after loving you like that.
The way you give yourself over to me, the way you trust me
to hold you...and keep you warm...and keep you safe...is
everything to me.
 
You know, baby, I had all the usual expectations that other
people have while growing up. I always thought I knew
what I wanted, and that I'd know it when I found it. 
 
Of course, I wanted to sing. I didn't much care about being
famous or wealthy...although it didn't sound bad...as long
as I could sing, and play, and have people want to hear it.
 
I figured someday I'd meet the right girl and fall in love,
then do all the usual things...the house, the picket fence,
the kids and maybe a couple of dogs.  And even though
I'd never felt it before, I assumed I'd know love when it came
along.
 
And then.....there was you. Dropping into my life, making
everything shiny and new.  I knew then....I knew it was here.
The very thing I'd hoped would happen...did, and it's been
even better than anything I could have dreamed of or asked
for.
 
I'm not sure there's a word for this feeling, but it's not love.
It's  so far beyond that word....so much more...and I don't
ever want to be without it, be without you.  Nothing else will
make me as happy as you do, baby. 
 
Yeah, singing makes me happy, but Buffy....you're the reason
I sing.
 
It's you, baby.  It'll always be you.
 
How can I sing now?  How do I get around this pain in my
throat, this huge aching mass of missing you, needing you,
and wanting you? 
 
Jesus, Buffy...I haven't even left you yet and it's killing me.
 
Knowing that I don't have a choice doesn't make it any
easier.  There are a lot of people depending on me and I
have to go through with it.  Jobs are riding on it, and a
hell of a lot of money...and I don't care, Buffy, I really
don't care.
 
Is it bad that I don't care?  That all I want to do is turn
around and head for home....just crawl into your arms
and never come out again. 
 
Am I a terrible person for wanting to tell the entire rest of
the world to go to hell?  To leave me alone and let me be
with you for as long as I can, as long as I live and breathe.
 
Baby, I don't mean to dump all this on you, and I don't
want you to be unhappy or to worry about me.  I'll get along
somehow and then, when this is all over...I'll come home to
you.
 
After that....well, we're going to have to figure something out
honey, because I can't go through this again. Not ever.
 
I'll call you every day, baby.  And I'll write to you, too.  And
every time I sing, I'll sing for you...even though you can't hear
it. 
 
God, this is hard.  It really hurts, the thought of being with-
out you.   How can that be after knowing you for such a
short time?
 
Sweetheart, do you realize that we just met ten days ago? 
I feel like we've lived a lifetime in those ten days, don't
you?   How is  it possible to love someone so much after
ten short days? 
 
And how the hell did I get so damn lucky? 
 
To love you, and to have you love me back is a lifetimes
worth of luck. I'll never ask for another thing, because I
already have this beautiful, precious love that I'll cherish
forever.  All because of you, baby.
 
You're the one, Buffy. You're my light and my life, my
shining star...and I will go down on my knees and thank 
God every day for giving you to me.
 
Don't you forget about me, love. Hold me in your heart,
the way I'll hold you in mine.....
 
All my love forever,
 
Spike
 
 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 
 
 
With her hand trembling a little, Buffy set the letter
down on her kitchen table.
 
Her own throat was tight with the same pain Spike
had described as her thoughts slid back to their parting
moments at the airport.
 
 
*******************************
 
She hadn't expected him to take her. Rather, she'd
thought he'd say goodbye in the suite and then hand
her over to the limousine driver.
 
But he'd made arrangements, allowing himself sufficient
time to go along with her, to make sure she got on the
right plane and to beg her not to take more than one of
Willow's motion sickness pills.
 
Truthfully, Buffy hadn't intended to take any at all. The
fear of a plane crash had been too deeply overshadowed
by the sadness looming in front of her. There was no pill
in the world that could help ease the pain of separation.
 
They hadn't spoken much on the ride to the airport. She
had no interest in looking out the window, of taking one
last look at San Francisco. 
 
Their hands had stayed tightly clasped together, even when
they became sweaty and sticky from the close contact. Every
so often, he would give hers a gentle squeeze and she would
return the pressure.
 
Traffic was light, and it hadn't taken long for them to reach
their destination.
 
Once again, she'd trailed after him through the confusing maze
of corridors, escalators, and moving sidewalks.
 
Her feet felt as heavy as her heart, and she'd dragged them
along on nothing more than sheer will, forcing them to carry
her to a place she didn't want to go.
 
She hadn't cried. No matter how badly she'd wanted
to....needed to....she hadn't given in to tears. Things were
bad enough without her turning into a weepy mess.
 
After checking her in and depositing her luggage on the
conveyor belt, Spike had steered her in the direction of the
departure lounge.  There were surprisingly few travelers,
and they sat together alone, close to the window.
 
Waiting for her flight to be called had been agonizing. 
She'd actually begun to feel like a prisoner waiting to be
escorted  to the gas chamber.  Knowing what was ahead,
and dreading  it, had stretched her last nerve nearly to
its breaking point.
 
Casting about in her mind for something to say that would
lighten the gloomy pall surrounding them, she had fallen
back on idle small talk.
 
She'd made her voice sound reasonably cheerful as she'd
said, "It looks like it's going to rain."
 
Spike had glanced out the window. "Might."
 
"Maybe they won't be able to take off," she'd added,
only half teasing.
 
There'd been a long pause, then he had released a
deep sigh. "Planes take off in this all the time. The
pilots are used to it.  Don't worry."
 
Still keeping a 'stiff upper lip' she'd smiled. "Oh, I'm
not worried. I'm an experienced flyer now."
 
That comment had drawn a slight smile out of
him. "Yeah, that's you," he'd said. "Little world
traveler, aren't you?"
 
"Mm-hmm. Ready to join the jet set. Spring in Paris.
Winter in Monte Carlo.  Summer in....."
 
"Summer in where?"
 
"I don't know.  Where does the jet set GO in the
summer?"
 
He'd opened his mouth to reply, then a slight 'pop'
from the intercom had startled them, making them
tense up, only relaxing when a tinny sounding voice
had informed them that a non-stop flight to Chicago
was boarding at another gate.
 
That small scare had banished all their forced levity.
 
Spike had given in to the need first. Slipping his arm
around her, he'd pulled her out of her chair and into his
lap, wrapping her in an embrace that felt almost
desperate.
 
Buffy still hadn't allowed herself to cry. She'd leaned
against him, stroking her hand up and down his arm.
 
His arms had tightened convulsively. "I love you," he'd
whispered.
 
Her emotions had come dangerously close to spilling
out of her, but she'd kept them firmly in check. "I
love you, too."
 
"Buffy...."
 
She'd waited for a count of ten, then prompted him
to continue. "What?"
 
Gathering his thoughts, he'd tried to speak.
 
"Tell me,"  she'd coaxed gently.
 
Spike had shaken his head. "I...I love you,"
he'd said again, unable to articulate anything
else.
 
He'd been visibly struggling for the things he'd
wanted to say, and it really wasn't like him to
behave that way.
 
Spike was always so brash and confident, so
certain of himself.  He had a quick wit combined
with a boyish charm, and was never at a loss for
words. 
 
From the day she'd met him, he'd been a force of
nature; striding into her life and shaking it to its
foundations, telling her exactly what he wanted,
that he expected to get it, and that he wasn't
about to take 'no' for an answer.
 
Seeing him so helpless in the grip of his emotions
had nearly broken Buffy's heart,  reinforcing her own
resolve to be strong.
 
"I love you, too."  She cupped his cheek in her hand
and tilted his face, leaning down to kiss him. "You're
mine, you know."
 
"I know." He had nodded, swallowing hard. "You're
mine."
 
"Always will be."
 
There'd been another long moment of silence.
 
"This is harder than I thought it would be," he had
whispered.
 
The pain of holding back her tears had made her
head throb.
 
"Yes," she had agreed. "But I'm still glad I came."
 
Another jerky nod. "Me, too." 
 
The anguish inside him was becoming evident in his
voice by that time, and Buffy had suddenly wanted
her flight to be called so as not to draw out the misery
any further.
 
Her own pain, she could deal with...later. But she
couldn't bear seeing his.
 
Five minutes later, she got her wish.
 
"I guess that's me," she'd said, climbing off his lap
and bending to pick up her handbag.
 
"Yeah."  He'd stood up and pulled her into his
arms. "Buffy..."
 
"I know," she'd murmured, stroking the back of his
head. "Kiss me goodbye, now."
 
Taking in a ragged breath, he'd captured her mouth
beneath his. Arms tight around her, he'd lifted her clear
off the floor, kissing her with all the fervor of someone
desperate to hold on and never let go.
 
She'd had to push him away, and he hadn't made it 
easy.
 
His hands had  clutched at her as he'd strained  to get
close once again.  "Wait.." he'd begged. "Just....not
yet...please....Buffy, don't...."
 
Nearly overwhelmed by what was happening, she'd
disentangled herself and begun to back away, 
joining  the line of people waiting to board.
 
There was a rope on either side, the kind usually seen
in a bank or a movie theater, and he'd followed her
on his side of it, holding on to her hand.
 
"I'll call you tonight," he'd promised. "And when I
get to Seattle."
 
"All right."   Her hand had slipped from out of his. "I'll
talk to you then."
 
"Okay....yes, and I...I love you."  He'd raised his voice
as she'd moved further away. "Baby, I love you. I love
you so much. You...you remember that, okay?  Will
you, Buffy?"
 
"Yes," she'd said. "I'll remember...and I love you, too!"
 
She'd thrown him a kiss and then turned to merge with the
other passengers.
 
"Buffy!" he'd called loudly, making her turn her head to
look at him. "Don't ever stop loving me!"
 
"Never," she'd promised, waving one more time and then
looking away, not wanting to see him turn and walk
off.
 
She was biting her lower lip, trying again to hold off the
flood of tears she'd needed to cry, determined not to look
back....but unable to stop herself.
 
What she'd seen had almost been more than she could
bear.  He'd backed off about fifteen yards and was staring
in her direction.  His chest was rising and falling in deep,
painful looking breaths, and his hand was over his heart,
as though it would shatter apart inside of him should he let
go.
 
Her own heart had been  thudding in her chest as
she'd turned away.  The people in front of her had
moved forward a few feet and then stopped when the
line stalled for some reason.
 
"Buffy!  Buffy....wait!"
 
She'd whirled around, shocked to see him practically
running towards her, bumping into people without a word
of apology.
 
Buffy had stepped back, allowing the people behind her
to go ahead..
 
Staying on the outside of the rope, Spike had grabbed her
and pulled her back into his arms, burying his face against
the side of her neck.
 
"I can't do it," he'd said softly, shaking his head and
burrowing closer. "I can't, Buffy...I can't let you...let
you just leave me. I....I don't want to go anymore. I
don't...I need you..."
 
She'd wrapped her arms around him, holding him close,
and then had nearly lost all her hard won control when
she'd felt the hot moisture on her skin and realized that
he was......
 
Pulling away, she'd looked into his eyes...those beautiful
blue eyes that were always so sharp and clear...and
found them wet with tears.
 
It was more than she could stand. She'd placed her hands
on his cheeks and pulled him down to her. "Spike....I
have to go."
 
"No," he'd shaken his head, unwilling to accept her
words.
 
"Yes," she'd insisted. "And you have to go, too."
 
"I can't."  Another shake of his head. "I can't do it."
 
"Yes, you can."  She'd brushed her thumbs across his
cheeks, wiping the tears away. "You can."
 
He'd looked at her, then down at the floor, then back
at her. "How?" he had asked, as though she truly had
the answers. "How can I live without you? Tell me
how....and I'll try."
 
Sadly, there'd been nothing she could tell him. 
 
She had no idea how.  
 
 
***********************************
 
 
She hadn't cried on the plane. She'd just stared
out the window with dry eyes that didn't really see
anything. 
 
The limousine driver had met her at the gate, fetched
her luggage and then driven her home...and still she
hadn't cried.
 
Her control stayed with her into the evening. At
seven o'clock she showered and then stretched out
on her bed.
 
Finally, she gave in to the blessed relief, allowing
it to wash over her, to engulf her.
 
Hot, scalding tears slipped slowly down her cheeks
and soaked her pillow.
 
Starting quietly, her sobs rose in intensity when
she realized what was happening. She was crying
too hard to do anything about it other than lie on the
bed, her entire frame shuddering with every wave of
cramps and every rush of blood.
 
 
 
Part Forty-two:
 
 
All alone in what felt like a ridiculously over sized
bed, Buffy missed him.  The little snatches of sleep
she fell into weren't enough to even start a halfway
decent dream, and when she was awake, all she
did was think about him and sniffle.
 
Her back ached horribly from her period, and she
would have loved nothing better than to cuddle
into Spike's warmth.  Although she'd known that
she was at the wrong end of the month for con-
ception, she still had a vaguely let down feeling.
Unable to pin it on anything else. she attributed
that to Spike's departure as well.
 
The phone ringing was a welcome distraction, even
at 10:00 pm.  "Hello?"
 
"Hey, baby...."
 
**Thank god**
 
"Spike...hi. Are you in Seattle?"
 
"Um, no....we're about 100 miles out. Bus got a flat,
and we had to wait around for that to get fixed."
 
She smiled. "For a big important star like you they
should send out a new one."
 
"You'd think so, wouldn't you?"  He paused a moment,
then said,  "Listen, love...I'm sorry I was such a mess at
the airport. I just....I hated the idea of being so far away
from you."
 
"Spike..."  She could feel her throat tighten at the
memory. "I wasn't any better off than you were, believe
me."
 
"Didja find the letter?"
 
"Yes. It was beautiful."
 
"Well....I meant every word of it. Gonna write another
song. Just for you. Would you like that, sweetheart?"
 
"So much." She nodded, forgetting for a moment that
he couldn't see her.  "Make it a pretty one."
 
"Pretty as you are? No problem."
 
Buffy caught a glance of herself in the wall mirror. Pretty
did not really describe the way she looked at the moment.
Her hair was a mess, her make up was smeared around
her eyes like a raccoon, and her clothes were rumpled from
sleep.  "Ugh," she said softly, sticking her tongue out at
her reflection.  "To be honest, I look pretty hideous at the
moment."
 
 
There was a short silence, then Spike asked, "What's
wrong?"
 
"Nothing." Buffy's fingers tightened on the handset. "I
just miss you."
 
"I miss you, too, baby....now tell me what's wrong?"
 
"What do you mean?" she hedged.
 
"Just what I said. You sound out of sorts. Are you sick?"
 
He sounded like he was looking for an excuse to hop
the next plane back, and she briefly considered letting
him do just that.
 
She sighed. "Of course not," she said, matter-of-factly. "I
just...my period started is all. It makes me a little....out
of sorts."
 
"Oh."
 
Was it her imagination, or did he sound disappointed?
 
He suddenly chuckled, a sound that sent warmth all the way
through her. "Better luck next time, right?"
 
"Wha...what did you say?"   **Please hold while I
find a tape recorder, or a court stenographer..**
 
After a pause, she heard him take a deep breath. "I
said....maybe I'll have better luck next time."
 
"At what?"
 
"At what do you think?"
 
God, this man could be frustrating!  "I don't know. How
would I know?"
 
"Well, I'm not talking about a lottery scratch off,
love.  Come on....don't tell me you've never thought
about it?"
 
"About.....?"
 
She heard him exhale heavily.
 
"You really like it all down in black and white, don't you?"
he muttered, then spoke up. "About having a baby."
 
Buffy shoved her face into her pillow and screamed, then
placed the phone back to her ear and spoke calmly. "You
mean....you and me?"
 
"What?!" He laughed. "No, 'course not. I meant the pandas
at the  Washington Zoo.  I read in the paper here that
they're trying to do the deed, but no soap."
 
"Spike..."
 
"Performance anxiety. That's the problem. I mean, just
imagine trying to make love to your girlfriend while some
git in  a lab coat is standing on the sidelines, waiting to  
stick a thermometer up her...."
 
"Spike!"
 
"Yes, darling?"
 
She couldn't help it, she had to laugh. "Stop teasing me."
 
"But it's so much fun."
 
"For YOU."
 
"Yeah, for me. Now tell me you love me."
 
Buffy smiled. "I love you."
 
"Now tell me that you want...shhhhhhssssss...uch as I
do, baby!"
 
"What?"  She strained her ears as hard as she could. "I
didn't get that?  Spike?"
 
She heard a loud hiss and pop, then several clicks....
 
"..... uffy?  Can you hear..........."  Static crackled.
 
"No," she almost shouted. "I...I can't hear you!  Spike!"
 
After another round of hissing and clicking, his voice
cleared.  ".....you when I get there, okay?  Love you,
baby!"
 
"Spike! Wait. I can hear..."  The line went dead. "...you
now."
 
Buffy slammed the phone back into its cradle, uttering
a word she'd only used once in her life before, and not
a bit sorry for it.
 
 
********************************
 
 
Ring-ring.....ring-ring......
 
"Hello?"
 
"Baby, I'm sorry," a voice whispered. "I know it's late but
we just got in and I had to make sure you were okay. You
feeling any better?"
 
Buffy rubbed her eyes and peered at the bedside clock. "Yeah,
I'm fine. Why are you whispering?"
 
"Oh, there was a mix up with the hotel and I'm sharing
the room with Oz."
 
"No fancy suite this time?"
 
"Supposed to be, but no. Listen, darling...you go back
to sleep and I'll call you tomorrow, okay? Are you going
to work?"
 
"Um...yeah. Of course."
 
"Of course," he echoed. "That's my sensible Miss Buffy.
Talk to you tomorrow, then. I love you."
 
"I love you, too."
 
She hung up the phone and stared at the ceiling.
 
There were times she really hated sensible Miss Buffy.
 
 
 
*****************************************
 
 
He called the next day during the lunch break, but
was only able to talk for a few minutes when he
was called away to solve some sort of lyrics dispute
before, as he said, Xander and Andy came to blows
over it.
 
She didn't hear from him again until after his perfor-
mance, and he sounded so tired that she didn't want
to keep him on the phone too long.
 
Over the next few days, Blue Eyed Devil traveled from
Seattle to Salt Lake City to Denver.  Buffy only got hurried
phone calls reporting their progress, since they were moving
so quickly.
 
On Friday afternoon, he called the school.  Buffy was
waiting for it.
 
"Hey, I have a surprise for you!" she announced. "Wait."
 
She ran back to her class and assembled them into a
semi-orderly line, then marched them down to Willow's
office where she pushed the speaker button on the phone
and nodded at them.
 
"Hi, Spike!" they chorused, fairly in voice with one
another.
 
Buffy heard him laugh. "Hi, kids. You being good for
Miss Buffy?"
 
She shook her head and gave them a teasingly baleful
look, but they knew that one and just giggled.
 
"They learned a new song," she said. "Do you have
time to hear it?"
 
She'd warned them that he might not, had tried to
explain how busy he was on this tour, but like children
everywhere they'd chosen to believe otherwise.
 
"Of course I do," he said, justifying their faith. "Let me
hear it, guys!"
 
Buffy led them through a slightly off key verse of 'This
Land Is Your Land', and when they were finished, she
held up a hand for silence so they could hear him.
 
"That was wonderful!" he said loudly. In the background
she could hear a lot of whistling and clapping. "Everybody
here liked it!"
 
"How could THEY hear?" Samantha asked, tugging on
Buffy's sleeve.
 
"I put you all on the speaker," Spike answered. "Thank you
for the song, all of you. I miss you."
 
The entire group of children babbled out different
versions of "We miss you, too." 
 
Willow escorted them back to their classroom, and Buffy took
the phone off speaker. "Did you like that?"
 
"I sure did, baby. That's the nicest thing I've heard all
day. I can't tell you how....what?  I don't know...ask..."
 
On her end, Buffy heard someone talking to him. "You'd
better go."
 
"Yeah, I guess. Sounds like I've gotta knock a couple of
heads together. Guess whose I mean?"
 
Before ending the call he advised her to keep an eye out
for some mail he'd be sending, stressed that it was very
important, then completely exasperated her by making
kissing sounds and hanging up when she tried to pry
more information out of him.
 
 
**********************************
 
Buffy finished out the rest of her day in the best mood
she'd been in all week.
 
After sending the last little one out the door with his
parents, she tidied her classroom, locked up for the
weekend and said goodbye to Willow.
 
The tingly sensations skittering up and down her
spine made her step a little bouncier and her voice
a little cheerier as she went about the mundane
chores of living.
 
She dropped off some clothes to be dry cleaned, then
ran into the market and did her shopping for the week.
Before heading home, she stopped to fill her gas tank.
 
The station she frequented was across the parking
lot of 'Sunnydale Savings and Loan', and she turned
her back quickly when she saw Riley Finn exit the
building and get into his car, hoping he wouldn't
notice her.
 
The last thing she wanted at that moment was for
Riley to see her and ask her out. 
 
**Nice guy, that Riley,** she thought, watching him
drive away.  **Just not the RIGHT guy...**
 
Someday soon she'd have to lay her cards
on the table with him, let him know that friendship
was all they would ever have together.  It wasn't
fair to let him think otherwise, and she wasn't going
to spend the rest of her life devising excuses for
turning down his invitations to dinner and a movie.
 
Soon....but not today.  Today her thoughts were all
for Spike Devlin, and she wasn't about to let anything
interfere with them.
 
************************************
 
 
As she stood on the front porch, juggling her packages
while simultaneously searching for her keys, she saw
that the mailbox had a package in it. She shoved the
door open, dropped everything she was carrying on the
floor and retrieved it.
 
It was a thick mailing envelope, with her address
written in black marking pen. She slit open
the end, then tilted it, catching the contents in
her hand.
 
A videotape. Plain, black, standard everyday
videotape.  The only clue to what might be on it
was a post it sticker, its message written in the same
hand as the envelope.
 
 
                                        Watch me!
 
 
 
"Okay."   Obediently, she popped the tape into
the VCR, turned  on the television, and pressed
'Play'.
 
 
 

More please...

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