Chapter 3 - Coming Back from the Brink, Final Part


                                             Coming Back from the Brink
                                                                                     by Volpone

                                                    Scene 8: the Summers Home

          It was just before midnight as Buffy fell back on her bed. She had arrived home alone, carefully
checked to make sure the house was secured, then climbed in for a much needed shower, both to clean
up and to help her relax. God, being the Slayer really sucked sometimes! I mean, we're talking
maximum suckage here. Being the Slayer had made her move to a new town. Then, it let her meet
Angel, but then it took Angel away. Now it causes her to meet someone else she's interested in, but she
can't get any further than hand-kissing with him! Just when things might get interesting, he disappears.
          Damn!
          As she dried off, her mind kept worrying at what she was beginning to see as some basic inner
failing in herself. She finished dressing for bed in the oversized satin top and light panties that she used
as pajamas, and then moved to her dresser. Without really thinking about it, she had been fiddling with
the silver claddagh ring Angel had given her the night they had become lovers. It seemed that many of
her current problems had begun when she had first put on the ring. She might not have been very
happy before then, but it was better than what had come after. Angel's gone. Live in the now, she told
herself. With reluctance, she removed the ring and set it on the dresser top.
          Why couldn't she be happy with a man for once? Everyone she knew was in a relationship, and
here was ol' Buffy, everyone's good friend, betrayed by one man, ignored by another, frustrated,
confused, and very, very alone.
          Also very, very aroused. Dammit, why did it always effect her this strongly? And this time, it
was even worse. As her mind played back the events of the day, she remembered the sensation of
Quinn kissing her hand... the sight of Xander and Cordelia... the sounds Willow was making in Oz's
van... Jenny giving Giles head right in the library...
          She went over to her c.d. player and got out the one she wanted. As Buffy settled herself back
and closed her eyes, she let her imagination wander as the music to "I Touch Myself" began to play.
          As she lay back on her bed, she let her desires take control, and her mind began to conjure
unwilling visions of the old, gentle, caring Angel, bare-chested, holding her. It was his hand cupping
her breast... sliding over her nipple... squeezing... teasing... as his other hand found its way between her
thighs and began caressing her mound through the thin fabric. She pressed her thighs tightly around his
hand, then relaxed and let her legs fall apart, allowing him to rub her more completely. Then, ever so
gently, he slid his fingers under the edge of her panties and began to stroke her moist lips, petting her
and bringing a soft moan of pleasure from deep inside her. He knew just how to touch her. She could
feel him reaching around from behind, slipping a finger between the lips of her pussy... kissing her
shoulder... her neck...
          No! Not that! It was too much like the nightmare. No. This wasn't helping her let go of him.
Imagine something else... something safer... something... someone like Quinn.  Who cares if he's older?
Compared to Angel, he was a toddler.
          Yes. Quinn's hands, strong and warm, gentle, knowing just what she wanted. In her mind, he
squeezed her breast firmly, his fingers finding the erect nipple while his other hand continued its
explorations between her thighs.
          Then he was lying beside her on the bed, growing more insistent. He rolled over on top of her,
and pushing her panties aside, he slid into her. He kissed at her with his wonderful lips, and his cock
felt so good sliding in and out of her like that, pushing her closer and closer to the brink...
          As she came, Buffy clamped her legs tight around her hand and gasped, then cried out as the
next spasm struck. Oh, god, Quinn... then she trembled and shook as yet another surge washed over
her.
          She lay on her side, facing away from the window, one hand still between her legs, and her
breathing began to return to normal. She simply lay there and tried not to feel alone.
          The sound of rapping at the window brought her back to reality. Very carefully, she slid her
hand out of her underwear, then sat up and looked out the window. There, patiently leaning on the sill,
was Quentin St. George.
          As she pulled open the window, what she wanted to ask was if he had seen her. Instead, she
asked, "What are you doing here?"
          Smiling, he replied, "I told you I'd see you later."
          Yeah, she thought, and just how much of me did you see? "I thought you meant, like
'tomorrow-at-the-library'-type see you later, not 'I'll-show-up-at-your-window-unannounced'-type see
you later."
          "But by that time, these would have wilted," and from behind him he produced a bunch of roses,
the night dew still fresh on them. "I come bearing gifts to my favorite damsel-in-distress."
          She grabbed him by the coat and began pulling.
          "You idiot, get in here before someone sees you." He complied, crawled in through the
opening, then reached back outside and grabbed a small satchel, which he set on the floor. Once he
was inside, he bowed deeply and presented the flowers to her.
          Outwardly, she was maintaining her cool remarkable well, but inside, she was bordering on
panic. She suddenly remembered the music as the same track began repeating yet again. Punching the
eject button hard, the disc was blessedly silent.
          She gave an awkward shrug, and tried to keep smiling as she thought, "I'm standing here, in my
bedroom, with the psychic I was just fantasizing about, wearing just a top and soaked panties... the
room positively reeks of sex... and that song was playing. Am I embarrassed? Heck, no! Although a
major stroke might be a welcome distraction."
          Buffy shook her head and smiled as she accepted the roses. "I take it you do this kind of thing
often." She found a spot and carefully laid the blooms aside.
          "I have never come in a bedroom window in my life, and I've never been so insulted, and I
would really rather change the subject since they could never prove it was me anyway. By the way, you
might want to avoid the topic of roses with the folks who live four houses down. Touchy subject." He
dimpled nicely.
          "Gee, just what I always wanted... a conviction for receiving stolen property." She smiled and
thought, if he saw anything, or has even guessed, he isn't showing it... thank God.
          "So...", she tried to sound casual and failed pretty miserably, "you want to take off your coat?"
He smiled and skinned off the duster. Underneath, he wore a pair of shoulder straps over his
turtleneck. The straps ran back to support the special scabbard of the sword he had wielded earlier that
evening. He shrugged off the straps and laid aside the sheathed blade.
          Buffy chose a bantering approach. "Interesting choice of accessories. Must be hell to find
matching pumps."
          He returned, "This is only for casual. I have a formal mace-and-chain for black tie, but it just
ruins the line of my tux.
          Without thinking (much!), she sat on the edge of the bed and he joined her. Nodding toward the
sword, she asked, "Do you mind if I...?"
          "Allow me." As he retrieved the sword, he explained, "The first rule in handling a sword is
when you are around people, before drawing live steel you call 'clear' to warn people. Second, you
never offer a blade point-first. I'm sure you can see why. Third, don't ever touch the blade itself with
bare fingers, and clean it before returning it to the scabbard. The acid in your skin can etch fingerprints
right into the surface of the steel if left long enough."
          Matching action to word, he took the sword, drew it the six inches needed to release it from the
customized sheath. Then he pulled the cuff of his sleeve down over his hand to act as a glove, reversed
his grip and took it by the blade, and offered it hilt-first to Buffy across the back of his other wrist.
          "You've got me scared to touch it now," but she did take it, although carefully.
          "I would prefer cautious over scared. A healthy respect for anything potentially deadly is the
key to handling it well, whether it's a sword, a gun, a poisonous snake..."
          "...or a vampire," she finished for him. She didn't try to bring it to guard, as so many would.
Instead, she took a piece of clothing off the floor and used it to take the other end of the blade as well
so she could see it better. The slender blade was engraved with a calligraphic script with the words
"Dum Vivamus, Vivamus."
          Buffy indicated the lettering. "I assume this doesn't mean 'Made In Korea'."
          "I stole that from another bit of fiction. Her name," he indicated the sword, "is Lady Vivants,
after the sword in the story. She was forged by Salamander Armories from meteoric steel. I had to
wait two years for her and she cost... more than you want to know. The inscription means 'While we
live, let us live."
          The sword in her hands wasn't flashy of colorful, but it had a special quality about it that was
hard to define. Between that and how he spoke of it, she could guess just what a treasure she held.
          Quietly, she said, "She's beautiful."
          She offered the sword back to Quinn (in the proper manner), and as he returned his prize to her
scabbard, he said, "I thank you, and the Lady thanks you."
          With a flourish, he handed her back the cloth she had used to take that blade, and as she took it,
she realized belatedly that is was another pair of her panties. She snatched them from his hand and
kicked them under the bed.
          Taking advantage of the more serious turn the conversation had taken, Buffy tilted her head and
looked up at him. "Quinn, why are you here?"
          He raised his eyebrows. "As I said, I'm drawn to important cusps."
          She nodded. "Right. You show up tonight, bad guys attack, we win, end of story. Why are you
still here?"
          He looked into her eyes and very quietly answered, "Why do you think the cusp has passed?"
          Not understanding, she replied, "Well, the church... the trap..."
          "Buffy, the cusp is right here. I don't know why, but something happened today, or tonight, and
it changed you somehow. Maybe something small, maybe something you haven't even realized. But it
made a change. I'm here because I need to be here for that reason.
          "Buffy... what happened? What were you thinking before I got here?"
          She thought for a moment, then her eyes got wide and her cheeks flamed red. She turned away
in utter Embarrassment.
          He knelt on the floor at her feet and gently touched her knee, looking up at her. "Buffy... no.
Before that." His voice was soft, unjudgemental.
          Oh, no. He had seen her! She was humiliated beyond words!
          It was all too much for her. The events of the whole day came crashing down on her, and she
buried her face in her blankets and began to sob. All the tears and anguish and loneliness flowed free.
          "Hey, it's okay." He sat on the bed next to her and pulled her unresisting form up to cradle her
face on his shoulder. One arm around her, stroking her hair gently, he repeated occasionally, "It's okay.
It's going to be okay."
          Finally, after several minutes, tears still running down her face, she got control of her voice
enough to ask, "Why am I such a loser with men?"
          The hand which had been stroking her hair stopped. He grew still as stone. Only her ear resting
against his chest told her that he wasn't a statue.
          Suddenly worried, she looked up at him. Concern for him clouded her voice. "What's wrong?"
The pain in his eyes stabbed at her, and she realized it was her pain he was feeling as well as his
own.
          His normally strong voice whispered, "Is that what you think?" Then he pulled her back to his
chest, put both arms around her and rocked her gently.
          She went on. "What else am I supposed to think? Angel's gone! Talk about the world's
shortest romance... Everyone I know has someone. Willow has Oz, and Xander... Xander has
Cordelia... and Giles, who is so exciting to the opposite sex it's like 'I am woman, hear me snore', that
Giles has Jenny. But... I... don't... have... anyone!" She put her arms around his waist and said in a
much quieter tone, "Stay with me... please."
          Quinn had to keep his talents under tight control to avoid letting Buffy know just how strongly
she affected him. She was so sweet and stubborn and vulnerable... and he could feel her so strongly
that he knew how beautiful she was without his eyes even seeing her. That someone like her could be
so gorgeous as well...
          All he needed to do was touch her and open his feelings, and she would know. She would have
no defense. In her present state, she would be his in a heartbeat.
          And later, when he had to leave (and he would have to, whether he wanted to or not), she would
be rejected yet again. How would that make her feel? His thoughts ran on... You want to destroy her
confidence in herself as a woman, you could do a lot better job than Angel ever dreamed of.
          Congratulations, asshole, you just put yourself where you can't win! You make love to her, then
break her heart when you go, and you lose because you care for her way too much to let that happen.
Let her feel your emotions, and it's the same thing again. Keep your big mouth shut, and be a good
friend when she needs one, and don't make love to her, and then she feels rejected and you fail at the
cusp. Face it, buddy, you're screwed! You thought you could change the course of this cusp. Fat
chance! All you did was book yourself a ring-side seat for the unmaking of a Slayer... a Slayer that
you've managed to become infatuated with.
          He was holding Buffy as the tension slowly began to leave her shoulders, relaxing in the
comfort of the nearness of another body. She had managed to cry herself out, and was more exhausted
than if she'd been battling monsters.
          "Buffy... when I leave... will you come with me?"
          She pulled away and looked at him in shock. "What?"
          "Sorry. I probably should have built up to that more gradually. I care for you, and I want you to
be happy. I can't stay here much longer. So, since I can't stay, will you come with me?"
          Very quietly, she said, "I'm sorry, Quinn. I can't."
          He nodded. "I know. But I had to try."
          Buffy explained, "I'm a seventeen-year-old student who beats up vampires in her free time.
Completely ignoring the fact that my Mom would stroke out, I'm the Slayer. I have to be here. It's
what I do. It's who I am."
          Suddenly, Quinn felt as if some weight had been lifted from his mind. Not from relief at
Buffy's answer. If he hadn't meant it, he wouldn't have asked. And he wanted Buffy in his life more
than he'd ever imagined.
          Then he realized... the cusp. Without thinking, he had managed to stop Buffy from selfdestructing.
He had convinced her of her desirability as a woman without breaking her heart or making
her toss the entire role as Slayer. He had enabled her to make the choice, and her choice was to reject
him.
          With a slightly sad smile, he said, "It's okay. I understand. Get some sleep. I'll be here."
          Then, in a moment of pure female self-deprecation, she said, "God, I must look like something
the cat coughed up."
          He raised one hand to her face and said, "You're radiant."
          Buffy looked at him as if her were delusional, but she was very pleased inside.
          She lay on her side facing away from him, and a smile crept across her face. "Good night."
          He clicked out the light, and she felt him spoon around behind her protectively, wrapping both
arms around her and pulling himself tight to her. He felt nice and warm. She snuggled in and smiled
even more.
          "Good night, Buffy. Sweet dreams."
          A voice in his head said, "You know, sometimes, being noble really sucks."
          Another voice in his head said, "Oh, shut up. Asshole."
          And with that, they all fell asleep.

Scene 9: Later That Night

          An hour or two later, Quinn was awakened when he felt Buffy stiffen as some unwanted dream
invaded her sleep. He could feel the tension in her back and shoulders, and then, without her saying
anything, he knew she was awake.
          He whispered to her, "Are you okay?"
          Without turning to him, she said with a sniff, "Yeah. Just a stupid dream."
          Quinn pulled back far enough to run a hand down her back. "Ouch! Some dream. You're tight
as can be." He got up from the bed and instructed, "Come on. Face down and relax."
          She rolled over on her face and tried to relax as Quinn began to explore her back with his
fingers. He began to work on her shoulders with strong, confident hands, kneading her tight muscles.
          With a pleasured expression on her face, she relaxed even more under his tender treatment. He really
was somewhat psychic. He knew just how hard to rub her tired, tense muscles and how long, then he
would move on, find another sore spot, press on the knot and tell her, "Deep breath... now blow out
slowly," and he would release the pressure on the knot as she exhaled, and she discovered the knot
would dissolve with her breath. Then more kneading. He really had wonderful hands.
          He continued to work on her until he had her back fairly well relaxed, then he worked his way
down her arms with the same attentive touch, finally concentrating on the muscles in her hands. Then
he moved back to her lower back and began to work down. She tried not to tense up as he began
working on the muscles in her buns, and in moments she was enjoying his attentions, and a warm glow
started to grow somewhere near her solar plexus. But he didn't linger any longer than was needed to get
her muscles to relax, then he was working on the backs of her thighs, and she gave him a little
encouragement with a pleased sigh.
          But again he didn't linger, didn't slide his hands between her legs as he could have so easily.
She would have gladly sighed and eased apart her thighs to welcome his caresses. But instead, he
continued to work down her legs. She hadn't realized just how sore she was, as her calves could attest.
When he began working on her feet, she thought she would melt. This was something that was new to
her. Oh, she'd gotten massages before, but never from someone as patient as Quinn, and they had been
confined just to her back. When he had finished with her feet, he shifted and began to work where the
muscles of her neck met with the base of her skull. Then he moved on and began to work his fingers
into her frosted blonde hair, gently massaging her scalp.
          God, he was good! There was no sexual overtone to his actions, but still the warm contact of
his hands with her skin was very sensual, and she kept wishing that he would do something more...
intimate.
          After working on her scalp for several minutes, he shifted again and Buffy thought things were
looking up as he told her, "Okay, turn on your back."
          She expected him to try to kiss her or something of that nature, but he very lightly began to trace
his fingers across her face... just the softest of touches across her forehead, her temples, her closed
eyelids, down her cheeks, her nose, over her lips, along the line of her jaw. Then he began to work her
temples with his fingers, working the tension away, then he concentrated on the muscles of her jaw for
another couple of minutes, then he began to gently trace her features with just the tips of his fingers
again. She hadn't realized both how relaxing and how sensual it was just having her face touched.
          Just as she was feeling completely receptive, he stopped, got up and said, "Okay, one more
thing. Sit up. Go ahead and kneel if that's more comfortable. Just sit so you can relax." She might
have questioned him, but she had enjoyed herself so much to this point she was willing to cooperate
with just about anything he suggested. As she knelt on the bed and rested her hands on her thighs, he
went back to his bag, and in just a moment produced an odd-looking object that appeared to be made
from black feathers, antler, leather and beads.
          He returned with the item and instructed her to close her eyes and imagine a pool somewhere
out in the forest. Then he knelt on the bed with her and began to hum some barely audible melody of
just a few notes as he flicked the item around her, almost as if he was sweeping the air surrounding her.
He didn't actually touch her with whatever the item was, but as he made the brushing motions, she felt
the air he stirred carry away the last vestiges of her tension. It was as if he were cleaning her emotions,
and in the place of all her negative feelings was this strange, calming energy. After just a minute or so,
she was wide awake and feeling wonderful, relaxed but energized, as if she had tapped into some
hidden spring of peaceful vitality within herself.
          Quinn finished. "There. How's that feel?"
          "Mmmmmmm." She relaxed back against him and sighed. "What was that, anyway?"
          "It's called a spirit fan. A Native American acquaintance of mine gave it to me. I've heard both
spiritual and scientific explanations for what it does, but it really doesn't make any difference why so
long as it works."
          "Well, it certainly worked on me. I feel wonnnnderful." Impulsively, she climbed up out of
bed, stretched like a cat, spun around on the ball of one foot, and laughed as if giddy. "I haven't felt this
good in ages. I feel so good, I feel like going dancing!"
          He smiled indulgently. "I'm afraid it's a little late to go out."
          "You're just like Giles. Always the practical one." Her mind conjured up the last time she had
seen her Watcher, with Jenny on her knees, her lips wrapped around his tool. A secretive smile stole
across Buffy's face. Well... maybe not always practical...
          She moved over to the c.d. player, selected something appropriate, and as the music began to
play, she began to move to the beat, slightly at first, then as she began to feel it, more strongly. It didn't
bother her that Quinn was sitting, watching her dance. In fact, this might work out very nicely.
          As she danced, her eyes closed, and she raised her arms over her head, moving more
sensuously, more seductively. She had done this just once before, at The Bronze, when she was
confused and feeling hurtful and she had wanted to turn Xander on worse than he had ever been before.
She had danced like this, feeding his desire for her, moving in the most provocative way she could, and
had teased him about his wishing that she would "thank him" for saving her life. "Don't you wish I
would?", she had asked, then walked away.
          This time, she wouldn't be walking away. She had every intention of carrying out every promise
her body was making as she moved to the music, showing Quinn just how she felt with her movements.
It felt deliciously wicked, but not wrong. In fact, this felt very right.
          Gesturing to him, she smiled and said, "Come on. Dance with me," and slipped back into her
role as Salome. Careful, she warned herself. You want to be seductive, not slutty.
          With a "why-the-hell-not" smile, he joined her on their postage-stamp-sized dance floor in the
middle of her room. He moved well, too, but she had somehow known he would. They danced well
together, even though they never touched. She was sorry when it was just a minute or so before the
song finished.
          As the music ended, she leaned back against him and sighed. She lifted one hand over her
shoulder and ran it up the side of Quinn's neck to his cheek. She tilted her head back as far as she could
to smile at him and say, "Thank you." Her hand slid behind his neck to pull his face down, and she
kissed him. Or he kissed her. Again, it didn't really matter since the result was the same.
          The kiss began as a sweet gesture, but just a moment after their lips met, Buffy said to herself,
"To hell with this!", opened her lips and turned the kiss passionate. If Quinn was surprised, he covered
it well, and tried to proved to Buffy that hand-kissing wasn't his only talent. Their tongues dueled back
and forth, and both of them learned quite a bit about each other in the next minute... or maybe two.
          Buffy finally broke the kiss through need for oxygen. She was able to breathe during the kiss,
but her pulse had moved to a whole new zip code, and her lungs were having trouble keeping up.
Whoa! Her nipples were tight points, her areolae crinkled, and her hormones were bouncing off the
walls. She shifted herself around and put both arms around him, her cheek to his chest. After a second,
she realized that his heart was beating just as hard as hers, so she wasn't alone in how that kiss had felt.
          As soon as she felt ready, she went back to find out if the first kiss had just been a happy accident.
          About five seconds later, she had decided that the first kiss had nothing accidental about it, and
if anything, he improved on it. This time, his hands went behind her to hold her close, and she just let
herself go completely. It was better than she had fantasized. He actually managed to make her toes
curl!
          When they broke this time, he tried to bring some reason to the situation. "Buffy, we can't do
this. I'll be leaving. Probably tomorrow."
          Her eyes locked onto his. "Then it has to be tonight, doesn't it?"
          "I don't seduce women, then disappear. One-night-stands are..."
          She put a hand to his lips and interrupted. "First, what makes you think you're the one doing the
seducing." She gave him a wicked smile. "Second, I'm a big girl. I know this is going to be it between
us. I'll be happy with what we can have."
          "But why?" He was arguing with himself as much as her, and he realized he was losing rather
rapidly. "You know me even less than I know you."
          "What don't I know? You're a gentleman, and that says a lot. You care. You feel deeply about
what's right. You put yourself at risk for others."
          He smiled at that. "That sounds vaguely like someone else I know."
          She ignored his comment. "You're gentle... funny... strong... kind... patient... honest... I like
your voice, your eyes, how you dance, the way you smell... you want me to keep going? You've shown
me all that today."
          "This is really what you want?" He took her hands in his and opened himself to her, trying to
read her.
          "Does this answer your question?", and with that she leaned forward to kiss him, trying to put
every bit of the passion she was feeling into a single instant.
          There was no hesitancy in how Buffy was behaving. She was a woman who knew exactly what
she wanted, and wanted it now.
          Her hands were pulling at his turtleneck, and once she had skinned it off over his head, she took
just a moment to enjoy the feel of the skin of his chest under her hands. His silver crucifix caught the
dim light. He was smooth-chested, nicely built without the exaggerated muscles of a body-builder. He
was fair-skinned, and that sweet-spicy scent she noticed earlier seemed to become stronger as she
rubbed her hands over him.
          He ran his fingers down the side of her face, then down her neck to the collar of her night-shirt,
then he pushed aside the collar, leaned down and kissed her right where her shoulder merged into her
slender neck.
          Abruptly, Buffy pulled back, alarm growing in her. He looked at her questioningly.
          "Ticklish?"
          "Not quite... it's just that... well... I'm really touchy about my neck. You know, considering my
line of work."
          He looked at her with a very amused expression. "Then we are going to have a major problem,
because the neck," and he traced the area under discussion with the back of two fingers, "is definitely
one of the most sensuous areas on a woman. And besides that... when I get carried away... I have a
tendency... to... bite."
          His words soothed her and thrilled her at the same time, and this time she didn't shrink from
him as his lips brushed her throat. Shivers ran through her as he kissed her neck this time, his words
exciting her as much as his actions. His teeth nipped playfully at her earlobe, then worked their way
down her neck. By the time he reached her shoulder, she didn't care if he did bite. He let out a sound
that was almost like a hunting cat, a purr mixed with a snarl, low and sensuous, and this time when he
bit, Buffy felt as if the bones had gone out of her. She arched her neck as his mouth wound its way
toward the point of her shoulder and almost purred in response. His fingers gently undid the buttons of
her top, and as his hands brushed it back from her, it fell to the floor, exposing her skin to the cool air,
and she let out another sigh of anticipation. His breath caught at the sight of her... her marvelous skin...
her high, firm breasts crowned with perfect, erect pink buds... the way her hip curved so nicely into the
slope of her thigh. She was, if anything, more beautiful than he had imagined. No, she was more than
beautiful... she was glorious.
          He brought his hands back up behind her, and he pressed her against him, his lips meeting hers
as he slid his fingers into her hair, holding her head close, kissing her with a strength and passion that
she hadn't felt before. His mouth tasted... she didn't know exactly... he tasted slightly exotic... mmm,
make that erotic. Some part of her subconscious noted that he was quite different from Angel. His lips,
his skin, he just felt unlike Angel. He generated heat... he smelled alive... it was all very different from
before. Not that she was able to really think about things like that. Quinn had her thoroughly preoccupied,
and she was learning a number of very interesting things about herself that she hadn't known
until this moment. She was responding to him on several levels as once. Before, it had been her heart
and her mind that had made things so exciting. Well... at least partially. Now, it was as if Quinn was
using all her senses to excite her.
          She had to sit back on the bed before she fell down, and he followed him without losing contact
with her wonderful lips. Then he broke the kiss, and his fingers trailed gently down her bare arms until
they reached the sensitive skin at the inside of her wrists, where he brushed them back and forth several
times, bringing another little shiver from her. What was this? He hadn't really touched her in a sexual
manner at all, but her nipples were so hard they ached, her breathing deep with her growing excitement,
and she was conscious of just how slippery her pussy had become.
          A stray thought of Angel and what had happened with him suddenly made Buffy stop, look at
Quinn seriously, and ask, "If we do this, you're not going to go all weird on me now, are you?"
          He chuckled at her choice of words. "You mean weird-er?", clearly indicating he didn't think of
himself as "normal" under the best of circumstances.
          "Uh, yeah. Point taken." Then she was back into the moment.
          He gently laid her back on the bed and she arched her back to help him remove her panties,
which were becoming rather uncomfortably moist. When he began to move closer again, she stopped
him with a hand to his chest and began to remove his belt. She had been acted upon up to this point,
but now she needed to act, even if it was simply to get him out of his remaining clothes. She unzipped
him and slid her hands down his hips, but his pants refused to move down very far before his
underwear caught on his very erect cock. Growing impatient, Buffy just reached inside and grabbed
him with one hand, levering him out of the way and pulling his shorts down until they were around his
knees with the other.
          Suddenly, she realized that she had gotten herself into a very interesting position as he knelt
above her and she reclined on one side, her eyes level with his very male member. Very nice, Quinn.
She had been so involved that if she hadn't been up close and personal like this, Buffy doubted that she
would have even noticed how he was endowed, but from this angle it was difficult not to be aware. She
didn't know what she had expected, but she decided she was pleased with the reality. Thank god, he
wasn't hung like some porno star, but he was, to her rather limited experience, almost ideally
proportioned... not so big as to be intimidating, but certainly far from disappointing, with a wonderful
wide flare to the crown and perfect thickness.
          Up until this moment, she had remained passive, going along for what had been an amazingly
enjoyable ride. But she couldn't resist the opportunity this presented. Buffy slid one hand up his leg
until she was able to wrap her hand around the base of his erection just above his balls, and with her
free hand she cupped his very firm male butt and pulled him forward until she was able to bring him to
her mouth.
          Now, we begin to have some real fun, she thought. She ran the head of his cock back and forth
across her moist lips, letting his anticipation build, enjoying herself as she teased him along. Then, as
his hand gently caressed her bare shoulder, she glanced up at him through lowered lashes, and making
sure that he was watching her as she did so, she kissed the flaring crown, then slid him... slowly...
sensuously... into her waiting mouth.
          He let out a low, sensuous purr of pleasure as she slid her lips down his cock and held him deep
in her mouth for several moments as she savored the slightly salty taste of his skin, the texture of him
against her tongue and palette. She enjoyed the wanton sense it gave her to give him pleasure this way,
the sense of control. It made her feel sexy and desirable and wicked and a half-dozen other wonderful
things all at once. She would have smiled if her lips hadn't been previously occupied with trying to
swallow his dick.
          For his part, Quinn was quite pleasantly surprised by Buffy's attentions. He knew she wasn't
highly experienced in the bedroom. He had much more experience than she in the amorous arts, and he
had known quite a few partners who had considerably more experience than she did, but all the
expertise and technique in the world didn't amount to anything compared to what she did have... a very
deep desire to make her partner as happy as she possibly could, which she was certainly trying to do at
the moment. Quinn had always been proud of the fact that he was a very attentive lover, concentrating
on his partner's pleasure more than his own, never rushing things, making sure that his lover truly felt
loved.
          It seemed that he had found a kindred spirit.
          Buffy bobbed her head slowly, keeping up the slippery friction of her lips on his shaft, enjoying
his reactions to her sucking, and as he gave a pleasured moan, she felt her desire begin to grow even
greater. He was amazingly responsive, the sounds he was making and his physical reactions letting her
know exactly what pleased him most as she went down on him. It was an amazing rush for her to know
just how badly she was getting to him.
          For just a moment, she let him fall from her mouth, and his disappointed moan just made her
chuckle. She pushed him back down onto the bed, skinned his pants off the rest of the way, then
positioned herself so she was once again able to draw her tongue slowly up the length of his shaft, and
he purred again in response. As she swirled her tongue around the smooth head, he reached down to
slide his hands over her perfect breasts, and as she once again slid him into her greedy mouth, he
squeezed in response.
          Now it was her turn to moan in pleasure. It was such an amazing feeling as she glided her
velvet lips down him as he massaged her chest, his fingers bringing her even more pleasure than before.
          Suddenly, it was as if a barrier fell away for Buffy, and she could feel what Quinn was feeling.
Not in a tactile sense, but his emotions were there for her. Whether intentionally or accidentally, he
was projecting his emotions, his talent giving her perfect feedback to each action, each swirl of her
tongue, every touch of her lips. Her desire soared in response to his own.
          Losing her inhibitions rapidly, knowing that he had seen her touching herself earlier, she began
to finger herself as she sucked his cock, tentatively at first, then with growing boldness, feeling his
growing lust and responding by feeding it all the more, feeding her own as she stroked a finger across
her clit and then deeper into her soaked cleft.
          The sensation was so amazing... whatever she did, she could feel his response, his excitement as
she did her best to swallow his cock, and then she knew he was getting close. She began to set a steady
rhythm and prepare herself for what she knew was to come... him. Her cheeks caved in around his
shaft and he occasionally caught his breath as she grew bolder, gaining confidence from him as his
pleasure soared.
          She was thrilled as she sensed his approaching orgasm, and she slowed down on him just a
moment until she could get herself as near as possible to her own climax. It helped to feel his hands on
her, clutching at her breasts, squeezing her hard nipples and making her moan in return. Her fingers
concentrated on getting herself there, and as she did, she almost lost concentration on his wonderful
cock. However, at that moment she realized he was almost at the point of no return and the sound he
made told her so plainly.
          He began to try to withdraw himself from her avid lips, but Buffy had other plans. She told
herself that this would not be like the dream. She was going to change the script right here.
          As he tried to break the action, she tossed her head and chuckled, then stepped up the action,
bobbing her head more fervently, telling him more clearly she wanted him right where he was, and after
just a moment's hesitation, his will power failed him utterly and he flexed his hips, urging her on as she
sighed with inward triumph and tried to swallow him whole. She didn't have long to wait.
          Suddenly, he gasped and she felt his desire peak and his climax begin. His hand found it's way
into her hair, as if afraid she might pull away, and she took him as deep as she could manage. With a
final moan of release, she felt his muscles tense and then his cock erupted, spitting its load into her
greedy mouth, the slightly salty slickness of him exciting her tremendously. Gotcha!, was her only
thought as he stroked more large gouts of semen into her. Then her fingers found the perfect spot on
herself and she tried to gasp around Quinn's cock as she buried her fingers in between her trembling
thighs, pushing herself over the edge, keening out in orgasm, her high moan and trembling telling him
just what was going on. As the spasms made her shudder with pleasure, she somehow managed to
keep him within her lips as he finished pumping his load into her waiting mouth, his shudders matching
her own.
          Their very mutual release subsided slowly, complete with occassion al aftershocks. He stroked
her hair gently, tenderly, and when he was finally able, he pulled her up far enough so that he could put
both arms around her. She wrapped herself tightly to him, nestling her head into the hollow of his
shoulder, wrapping her legs around his thigh and feeling gloriously decadent and quite smug.
          When he finally regained his voice, the first words from him were, "You... are an absolute brat."
He smiled in a teasing manner. "That was not what I had planned, and you know it."
          "I know, but it was what I had planned, so I guess you'll just have to learn to live with it. Why?
Didn't you enjoy yourself?", she asked with mock innocence.
          His chest vibrated under her cheek as he chuckled. "I should paddle you. And stop fishing for
compliments. You were incredible, and you know it. So knock it off. As if you need any
encouragement."
          "Oh, no! Threats of violence. Into a little spanking, are we?" She rubbed her marvelous
breasts against him teasingly. "Do you have these fantasies often? Anything I might be able to help
with?" As was most often the case with couples who had just made love, she was never more ready
than when she just had finished, while he needed a pause to recharge.
          "Next time I'm energetic enough to give good spank, I promise you a starring role, okay?" he
replied.
          They lay there for several minutes, making gentle small-talk of no consequence, holding one
another and just enjoying the other's contact. He gently stroked his hand down her bare back, both
giving and receiving pleasure in the simple action.
          After a few more minutes, she asked the leading question, "So, what's next?"
          In answer, he sat up in bed, gave her a pat on her fundament, and said simply, "Face down."
          She obediently flopped down, arms crossed under her head, and she wiggled her derriere as if she were
making herself comfortable, while teasing him about his earlier spanking comment. He threw one leg
over so that he could kneel over her, and he let his weight rest low on her hips from the back. She was
acutely aware of his penis resting in the crevice between her rearward cheeks, but he wasn't stiff, so she
didn't think he intended to enter her that way, and oddly, she wasn't sure how she felt about the
possibility. The thought was not something that had particularly appealed to her, but one part of her
was thinking how wicked it would feel to do that with Quinn. He would be careful, she knew, and he
would make sure she wasn't hurt by it. It might be fun. Hmmmm... she was definitely going to have to
consider what she was into, or rather what she was willing to do in bed before she was presented with
having to decide on the spot.
          But before she could really question what he intended, she could feel his nails as he began to
scratch her back. Buffy wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed, but after just a few moments,
the sensation he was creating made her sigh and just enjoy. She wiggled in pleasure and did her best to
purr. He was a wonderful back-scratcher. After a few minutes, he started to trail his fingers lightly up
her back, then out her arms, then back again. His fingers barely brushed her skin, and when he ran
them up her sides she got a major case of goose bumps. She wriggled in pleasure as he kept this up for
several minutes. Then he slowly leaned forward until his chest touched her back, brushed her hair away
from her neck, and she learned just how sensitive the nape of her neck was as his lips kissed her there...
raising more goose bumps. He proceeded to kiss his way across her shoulder, out her arm, then across
to the area inside her forearm. When he finally planted a kiss in the palm of her hand, she was ready to
roll over, plant a major kiss on his lips and urge him inside her now, but his weight on her made this
impossible, and plainly it wasn't what he intended, as he began a return trip.
          His lips made their way back down her arm, across her shoulder, pausing to nibble her neck
again on the way, then across her other shoulder, then down her back, across the ribs of her side, down,
down, until he reached her backside, where he lingered a few moments, then down the back of her
thighs, down her legs to her ankles. He had her so sensitized that she had almost pulled away when his
lips had reached the back of her knee. But he didn't stop and when he reached her ankle, he crossed
over to the other and began the entire process in reverse. By the time he reached her neck again, her
skin was reacting to his slightest touch. She could also feel that his cock was again hard and ready for
action.
          He patted her again and said simply, "Over, please." Buffy was only too willing to oblige. As
she turned, she relaxed and her thighs fell apart "quite by accident", exposing herself to him. She gave
a pleasured stretch and shifted her pelvis, drawing his attention to her nicely groomed pubic curls,
making quite sure he knew exactly what she was offering him. She was quite wet and ready to have
him... now.
          However, he managed to surprise her by failing to acknowledge her invitation. She smiled as he
lay forward, resting much of his weight on her. The feel of his bare skin against hers was wonderful,
and she loved the feel of her breasts being squeezed between them. But instead of positioning himself
to enter her, he again began to kiss her neck, then he began sliding down her front, trailing kisses as he
went, until he had circled her right breast completely. Buffy couldn't help but let out a small moan as
his lips found her nipple. He used his tongue, his lips, even his teeth to stimulate her erect pink bud,
and he kept it up for almost ten minutes before he proceeded to her other nipple. He would suck on her
for a moment, concentrating just on the point for a moment, then he would let enough of her into his
mouth so that he could flick his tongue rapidly back and forth the tip, then her would softly nip at her
with his teeth, then he would vary the process again. By the time he left the vicinity of her chest, she
was breathing deeply, even more anxious than before he had begun.
          But he still wasn't done with the preliminaries. She had taken him orally, to his great delight,
but he was a firm believer in "turn-abouts fair play", so he again kissed his way towards her waist, this
time down her front. While she was growing slightly impatient, when he began to kiss at her pubic
hair, she suddenly found that she was quite willing to put up with a slight delay. Then, as his lips met
her lower lips, she found that thoughts left her entirely. He slipped his hands under her rear cheeks and
drew his tongue right up the full length of her slit, parting the wet lips as he went, exposing her most
intimate parts to him. His lips and tongue busied themselves, licking and kissing, darting in and out,
then sucking on her as his hands squeezed and kneaded her ass. He delighted in the taste of her, and
her soft gasps and moans told him she was being delighted as well. She had already come twice that
night since her last shower, but that didn't affect him, or the way that she was reacting to him. The
emotional barrier was still down and his excitement and desire to please her simply added to the fire.
          She arched her back and raised her hips to meet his eager lips, and when he slipped two fingers deep
into her as his tongue flicked repeatedly across her clit, she began to thrash and claw at the sheets as her
climax overtook her. She managed to get one hand behind his head and she held him close as another
particularly strong spasm shook her, then another. Finally, as yet another tremor struck, Buffy let out a
violent cry of passion and anguish, and he eased off enough to let her begin to catch her breath.
          But he had managed to exhaust her patience. With shaky hands, she pulled him up full length
against her, then she took his penis on one hand and stoked it several times as she positioned it at the
entrance to her more-than-ready pussy. She almost cried as he pulled back and reached for something
out of her sight. Didn't he know how much she wanted him NOW?! She was puzzled by the sound of
cellophane, and she raised her head just enough to see him rolling a condom over his delightful dick.
          Oh, god! She had almost forgotten! She had been so wrapped up in the moment that she would
have taken him without a second's thought about practicing safe sex.
          Then he was back in position. She wrapped her legs around him and she almost screamed out
as the firmness of his cock penetrated her tight pussy. He just slid himself in and held still for a
moment, his hands behind her and holding her back, but that was all it took for Buffy. He had her so
excited that the moment he filled her, she began to gasp and her nails raked across his back with the
first onset of another orgasm. The muscles of her vagina squeezed him tight in their embrace as
another shudder wracked her beautiful body. Then, after a few moments, her orgasm began to subside.
          That was the signal Quinn had been waiting for, and he began to stroke himself into her already
primed pussy. To Quinn, there was nothing as exciting as his lover in the throws of climax, and he
wanted to keep her peaking as long as he could, but if it weren't for the condom and his coming once
earlier, he would have lost it almost immediately. As it was, once he began to move, sliding his
hardness into her, it was just a few strokes before Buffy experienced what some of her school friends
might call "orgasmus maximus". She cried out loudly and bucked as her hands grasped at the covers of
her bed, trembling and thrashing by turns as each new surge struck. Quinn did his best to control
himself until there was no doubt she was in the midst of coming, then he let himself go, and with just a
few more strokes he was right there with her. As he came, he bit down (with his very human teeth) at
the point her neck and shoulder joined, almost but not quite to the point of pain, and he groaned out as
he hunched and stroked his load into her. This time when he bit her neck, she could feel his lust soar.
It was the final straw for Buffy and her climax soared and went into extra innings as they cried out their
mutual ecstasy.

          The next morning, as Buffy slowly came to herself, she felt that the last night must have been
some kind of dream. She expected Quinn to have evaporated with the night, but as she moved she
realized that his warm, strong body was cuddled up tight behind her, his arms wrapped around her and
a hand gently cradling each breast, his penis nestled between her rearward cheeks. She sighed
contentedly, closed her eyes and let herself sleep again.

Scene 10: The Library

          "... and if he hadn't, I might be down with a serious case of rigor mortis today." Buffy was just
finishing a highly edited version of the night before, one in which everything after they had escaped the
vampires did not happen. Willow suspected something, and Xander was just generally suspicious of
anyone who got near Buffy. Other than that, both Willow and Xander were quietly smug this fine day
for some reason. Giles was acting even more embarrassed. Buffy was almost bubbly. And only Buffy
knew the reason behind everyone's moods.
          Neither Jenny nor Cordelia were present yet that morning. It was, after all, a Saturday. That
Xander was there was a testament to the uniqueness of the day before.
Willow had followed their narrative with great interest, but was bothered by one point. "One
thing I don't understand... wouldn't the holy water at the church have been kinda desecrated by the fire
and that whole Angel-Drusilla spooky rite thing?"
          Giles fielded that one. "It's almost certain that was the case."
          "Then why did they react that way to just regular water?"
          "The most likely explanation is that they believed it to be holy water and so reacted accordingly.
Any burning they experienced was probably psychosomatic."
          Xander looked at Quinn as if he had sprouted a second head. "Hello! You just gambled that
they would think it was holy water and not turn you two into vampire kibble when they found out it
wasn't?" He was seriously considering trying to relocate Quinn's nose to a new time zone.
          Quinn was smiling broadly. "Truthfully, I don't have Giles' faith in the gullibility of vampires
when more than my life is at stake... sorry," he winced and apologized for the unintentional Slayer pun.
          "So I just found the church before sundown and replaced the holy water."
          "You just happen to carry around a gallon of holy water in case you find yourself at an
impromptu baptism."
          "Actually, I made it."
          Willow asked, "But I thought you had to be a priest or some holy-type guy to do that."
          Quinn dropped into a mediocre but recognizable impression of The King of Rock 'n' Roll.
          "Duly ordained minister of the First Church of Elvis, can I get an amen?... thankyaveramuch."
He dropped the impression. "On such technicalities the world revolves."
          "So, are you gonna be sticking around long...?", was Xander's unsubtle segue away from the
topic of someone else saving Buffy. He didn't particularly like Quinn, but he had helped his good
friend last night, and just maybe he had some influence on the events of the day before. As a result,
Xander didn't know if he wanted Quinn around any longer or not.
          "I'm already checked out of my lodging and ready to hit the road. I'll be leaving directly from
here."
          "Hey, that's too bad. Do you think you might be able to teach me that hand-kissing thing before
you go?" At the look that got from the other three, Xander defended himself. "Hey, I'm always open to
learning new things."
          Quinn smiled and said, "It's the same way you get to Carnegie Hall." When Xander gave him a
look of bewilderment, Quinn waved it aside. "Old joke. Ask Giles after I'm gone.
          "Oh, and by the way... Buffy, tell your mother that she has wonderful taste. Her gallery really is
very nice."
          Buffy looked at him suspiciously. "You've been into Mom's shop?"
          "Truthfully, early yesterday I found her shop, and I picked up a few little items... actually, I
picked up too much to take with me. I'm having to ship most of it."
          She realized that it must have been him that bought so many things her mom had to make the
buying trip... which left her alone last night... which made it possible for him to spend the night.
          "You!" She was torn between laughing and beating him senseless with an Oxford English
Dictionary, Unabridged Version.
          He grinned and his dimples reappeared. "As I said before, sometimes... I get a premonition."
          It was Giles who spoke up next. "So... will we be seeing you soon?"
          He shrugged in reply. "Who knows? I didn't know I was coming here until I arrived. Anything
is possible."
          "Well, then. Good luck, and thank you again for helping Buffy."
          "My pleasure. And with that, I'll take my leave. Xander... Willow... Rupert... Buffy."
          Willow replied, "Be careful."
          Buffy added, "And thanks again." She wished that she could say goodbye to him properly, in
private, but she knew that wasn't really a good idea.
          With a bow and a twinkle, he added, "As I said... it was entirely my pleasure."
          And with that, he swept out.
          After a moment or two of silence, Xander finally asked, "So, how do you get to Carnegie Hall?"

          Upon returning home, Buffy found a black cassette tape she didn't recognize on her dresser. On
it's label were the hand-written words, "For Buffy." She went to her stereo, popped out the cassette
which it already held, inserted the new tape and pressed "Play".
          After a few moments of tape hiss, a piano began to play a melody she thought she recognized,
but couldn't put her finger on. Then it was joined by a voice she did recognize, the voice from the
churchyard the night before. Quinn's voice:
                    "In every heart there is a room,
                    A sanctuary safe and strong
                    To heal the wounds from lovers past
                    Until a new one comes along.
                    I spoke to you in cautious tones.
                    You answered me with no pretense.
                    And still I feel I said too much,
                    My silence is my self defense.
                    And every time I've held a rose
                    It seems I only felt the thorns,
                    And so it goes, and so it goes,
                    And so will you soon, I suppose.
                    But if my silence made you leave,
                    Then that would be my worst mistake,
                    So I will share this room with you
                    And you can have this heart to break.
                    And this is why my eyes are closed.
                    It's just as well for all I've seen.
                    And so it goes, and so it goes,
                    And you're the only one who knows.
                    So I would choose to be with you,
                    That's if the choice were mine to make.
                    But you can make decisions, too,
                    And you can have this heart to break.
                    And so it goes, and so it goes,
                    And you're the only one who knows."
         The song ended, and Buffy was almost certain she heard a quiet voice say, "Goodbye, sweet."
          She smiled wistfully, sighed, and thought, "Oh, well... somebody out there loves me."

                                                       END



Musical credits:
The song Quinn sings in scene 7 is "The Blackbird" by A.M. Stewart, and was released by Silly
Wizard on their album Live Wizardry by the Green Linnet label.
The song Quinn sings in scene 10 is "And So It Goes" by Billy Joel, and was released by him on
his album Storm Front by the Columbia Records label.

