Disclaimer: Please see Part 1, Chapter 1…
Sugar & Spice
Part 3
Chapter 1
"Harmony?! It's nearly eleven o'clock!" Angel barked down the bedside phone.
"Sorry, bossy." Harmony grovelled as she closed her eyes against the way his too-loud voice aggravated her massive headache. "I'm coming, promise…"
Dropping the phone back into the cradle with a moan, Harmony sat bolt upright in bed with a groan as the jack-hammers inside her skull moved up a gear. It wasn't fair, the undead were unaffected by alcohol unlike humans – or at least they were supposed to be. Lesson learned: Vampire or not, she was never going to get drunk againnnn…
…
Her eyes snapped wide open as memory hit like a half-brick. She shrieked and leaped out of the bed, nearly falling over her own feet as she dashed over to the bassinet –
Which had been crudely mended and wherein a fresh, clean, gurgling Cordelia grinned toothily at her, in not the slightest distress.
"Ah! Ah! Ah!" Hyperventilating, Harmony staggered from one side of the apartment living space to the other, looking around wildly.
Everything was tidy, neat, straight, clean – like her mother had dropped by during the night with their old interior designer, Laaawh-Rinse (who'd only ever spoken with exclamation marks: 'its just toooo fabulous, darling!') and given the place a celebrity makeover while Harmony was out for the count -
Stopping, Harmony looked down at her feet as she realised that she had run straight over the spot where the despicable Winson's mangled remains should be several times already. Nothing, nada, not a spot remained. "Oh, oh…"
"Calm down, pet."
Harmony spun around so fast she almost overbalanced and fell over as none other than – Spike? - appeared in her apartment doorway, an unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth, naked to the waist, but dressed in his black jeans and boots. Though the gaping wounds had now closed up, Spike's torso was still a welter of purple-blue/violet-burgundy lacerations, gashes, deep scrapes and bruising, whilst both his eyes were black-bruised and his nose was clearly healing after being broken. As if waiting for her to note these, various parts of her own body began to stridently mention they were severely injured and not happy about it.
"What – what –" she stammered helplessly, recalling nothing but fragments of moments, including one of jumping on top of him and forcing him to the floor in a frenzy of lust and then being sucked down, down into sheer exhausted blackness...
"Everything's taken care of, love. Cordelia's fine, I'm fine, the apartment's fine."
"The body – " Harmony began frantically.
"Is gone. Vampire, remember? Trust me, there is not a molecule left to indicate the late unlamented Mr Winson was ever in this apartment. So much so I'd personally invite Gil Grissom and company or Leroy Jethro Gibbs' gothic pet Miss Scuito to do a fingertip search and bring your own Mass Spectrometer tour of this place."
She hardly registered the words, having no idea who Grissom or Gibbs were – if it was unrelated to America's Next Top Model, New York Fashion Week, Vogue or Cosmo., she didn't know about it. "I ate him." Harmony sank down the bed. "All of him."
"And it couldn't have happened to a more deserving fellah," Spike drawled, "or have you forgotten his reaction to Goldilocks?"
Harmony looked automatically towards the battered bassinet. "Oh. Right." She swallowed, "But Cordelia…I was…I could have…"
"You didn't." Spike put in sharply. "So stop wallowing. One tortured, brooding hero is quite enough thanks."
"Oh, Angel," Harmony jumped up. "I can't believe I overlaid so long."
"Considering you spent half the night riding me like you were trying to win the St. Leger Stakes, I'm not overly shocked." Spike commented, picking up his pretty much of a lost-cause black T-shirt and eyeing the tattered remnants without favour.
"Spike…" Harmony looked at him. "I…um…" she faltered
"S'okay, pet." Spike shrugged and smiled wryly, "I know where you're coming from."
Harmony looked at the floor, some inner vestige of her past humanity needing to explain. "It was my dream, you see. I wasn't the prettiest girl at Sunnydale High – beautiful blondes are pretty much like the sun rising in the East in So' Cal and I didn't stand out from the crowd. I didn't have a super-IQ like my brother and I wasn't an athlete, period. I didn't have a talent for art or drama or turn out to be a musical prodigy. All I ever wanted was…"
"A family…"
"Yeah…just a nice house in a good neighbourhood, somewhere my little girl could play in the garden without fear and where I could let my son walk to Little League practice on his own without worrying," Harmony confessed. "Stupid -"
"Normal," Spike corrected her. "I wanted my mum to see a grandkid before she died; part of why I was so mad for Cecily Underwood. God, I was so naïve back them. I was twenty-six going on two-and-a-half." Spike shook his head. "It took me too long to realise that I wasn't in love with Cecily the woman, I was in love with what she represented: a safety net for me when my mum died of the Tuberculosis a blind man could see would kill her before coming winter, the next woman who would spend all her time looking after me. Cecily, me and my ego – no wonder three was a crowd."
"I get that." Harmony looked at Cordelia's bassinet and finally relaxed a bit now it was clear the baby was unharmed.
And she could trust Spike's claim to have gotten rid of Winson – not even a supernatural Grizzly-whoever would find any trace of him ever having been here. "I guess I should get ready. By the time I've taken Cordy to the crèche it's going to be gone twelve before I get to my desk and Angel will totally wig out…"
"Not that I'm tempted to suggest that, just for the entertainment value, but I'll drop her in at the crèche." Spike offered.
"Really?" Harmony blinked at this unexpected offer.
"Happy to." Moving to stand in front of Harmony, he lightly ran his hands down her arms.
"Oh thanks - hey stop that." She scolded as he pulled down one lacy scrap of the already mostly shredded negligée.
"You shouldn't stand there, all pink and blood-spattered and tempting, pet." Spike smirked. "Besides, now I'm dropping Goldilocks off at the crèche, we've got a few minutes."
"Spike!" protested Harmony feebly before he kissed her; she returned the kiss as the nightgown slid down to her waist and Spike pulled her close with one hand pressed against her back, while he unzipped the fly on his unbuckled, unbuttoned jeans with the other. "I'm late as it is!"
"Another few minutes won't matter then." Spike murmured as he nibbled her neck, tracing her jugular vein with his tongue and sucking one particular spot at the base of her throat.
"How can you – oooh – after last night…hah…" She tightened her grip on his shoulders spasmodically as he nibbled his way down to her breasts, suckling one nipple while his fingers massaged and squeezed her buttocks.
"You were in the driving seat, pet, I was just along for the ride," chuckled Spike, shifting position slightly, gripping Harmony's bottom with his hands and raising her slightly off the floor, sliding her down his torso so his engorged shaft sank deep inside her; throwing back her head in pleasure, she wrapped her legs around his waist as he braced himself and undulated his hips in tiny, teasing increments that brushed the head of his penis against that special place deep inside deliciously – the fact that vampires could still experience sexual orgasm within the body of the host was a big part of why vampire-demons didn't mind being sneered at as half-breeds by such jumped-up ponces as Arch-dick Septic-ass – who right now had no idea of what he was missing…
Holding her to him tightly, Spike spun around so Harmony was against the wall and she braced against it instinctively, the wall taking their weight and helping with the terrible wounds now healing rapidly. Both of them moving into a familiar rhythm, Harmony's gasping cries increasing in tempo as she headed for the peak; Spike buried his face in her neck as he moved his hips back and forth tauntingly without thrusting deep. For all her tendency to flap and babble, she was a lot more bearable to be around than he would ever willingly admit, particularly as Harmony was a revelation during sex - she never dissembled and was straightforwardly honest in her reactions to everything, which translated sexually to her being wild and uninhibited; she threw herself into the sheer enjoyment and delight of the act with unbridled enthusiasm and zero sexual politics but she was a demanding lover – it took a lot to make her scream and Spike enjoyed every second of driving her to that pinnacle –
"Wah-MAH!" Imperious with demand at being ignored previously, this cry finally cut through the haze of ecstasy.
"Bloody hell!" Spike groaned.
Harmony and Spike stared into each other eyes, and then both found themselves laughing at the baby's lousy timing, even as the contractions of Harmony's vaginal muscles wracked Spike with more pleasure.
"Waaaah-MAH!" Cordelia announced in the closest she could get to, 'I am about to scream the place down.'
"It's alright, baby!" called Harmony, placating, over Spike's shoulder. "Mommy's coming!"
"Yes, she is," Spike groaned as she squeezed him again, "and daddy as well!" Capturing Harmony's mouth again he abandoned leisure and brought them both to orgasm, Harmony's thighs gripping his hips vice-like in wonderful spasms as she climaxed. As he pumped his hips automatically, Spike's delight, for a fleeting moment, was speared with terrible sorrow that he was not spilling any seed deep with her womb; that Harmony's body could not swell with his child…
Continued in Chapter 2…
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