Coming Through

Chapter Twenty One – Attention Span

Breakfast had been eaten, even though the French toast was slightly cold and a little chewy due to sitting so long in the pan. Spike had drunk his blood, even though it too was slightly cold from sitting too long in the microwave. The dishes had been washed, the kitchen cleaned up, and now they were out on the back porch, Buffy curled up on the loveseat, soaking in the warmth of the sun, and Spike draped across his chair, smoking.

Buffy watched Spike take a deep drag on his cigarette and smirked, "So when is your nut-sack ex planning to kill me?"

He shrugged with a small chuckle, "No idea, pet. That minion wasn't exactly forthcomin' with the details, even after I almost broke my bloody hand beatin' on him. All I found out is that Dru's makin' minions by the bushel to scout out Sunnydale. Apparently the stars have been tellin' her that if she kills the sunshine, her Bad Dog will come home."

"And you said they've only been showing up the last few months?"

"Yeah. I figure Drusilla knew you were gone, probably had a vision or something, and has been waitin' around for you to get back. She probably had a vision of you comin' back through the portal, but didn't know exactly when, hence the minions." He closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the chair, smoke drifting lazily from his nose. "Not really her style, though. Waitin' around. She never had that much of an attention span. I'm surprised she's stuck with it this long."

Buffy snickered, "Not much of an attention span says the poster child for vampire ADD. Who was that guy that promised to kill me on Saturday and then showed up two days early? Hmmm? Oh yeah… you."

Spike barked laughter, "Yeah… well… patience never was my strong suit, pet. I never was much for toyin' with my victims. Dru and I were planted firmly in the want – take – have camp. 'Gelus is the wanker that would spend months breakin' someone down 'fore he finally killed 'em. Git loved his mind games."

Buffy sighed as she recalled her own experiences with Spike's Grandsire, "Yeah. I remember." She sat up suddenly and looked over at Spike. "You don't think Angelus might be helping her, do you?"

Spike shook his head, "No. Forehead's still in LA and the soul's still tacked on."

"So if Angel's not helping her, and she's not… uh… patient enough to work a plan, then who's doing it?"

Spike shrugged. "Don't know, kitten. Might be another Master Vampire usin' Dru for her visions, but I don't know of very many old enough or strong enough to control her. Won't know 'til we get some research done, I suppose. Watcher's apparently down with the flu or some such, but I'll get him on it in a few days. In the meantime, I'll get Glinda workin' on that minion and maybe she can pull some more info out of him. Beatin' on him didn't do much, but Glinda workin' her magic on him might."

Buffy's eyes went wide. "You didn't dust him?"

Spike stubbed out his smoke and sat up, "Nope. Chained him in the basement of the mansion. There was somethin' off about him, kitten. Like I said, he's stronger than a minion should be, even one turned by Dru. He's almost as strong as a Childe, but I didn't feel any family bond."

"Maybe someone else turned him and he's their Childe."

Spike shook his head as he got to his feet. "He's Dru's, could smell her blood in him. Don't worry about it, pet. It'll keep. None of her minions have seen you yet, so we've got time." He held out his hand to her. "Let's go back to bed, yeah?"

She shook her head and a small flash of hurt crossed his face as she stood up in front of the loveseat. "Come over here, Spike. Please."

His face broke into a grin as he stepped in front of her then leaned down to breathe against her ear, settling his hands on her waist. "Yes, kitten?"

She slid her hands up his bandaged arms. "How do your burns feel? Do they still hurt?"

He nodded, "They're still a bit tender, but I'll be fine, luv. Should be tip-top by tomorrow."

"Good." Her hands continued their journey and settled on his jaw, her fingers buried in the soft hair on the nape of his neck. She pulled him close, kissing him gently as she pressed against him, then dropped her hands to his chest and leaned her forehead between them. "Spike? Um… do you remember our… um… first time?"

He tilted his head just a bit as he looked down at the top of hers, not quite sure where she was going with this. "Yeah, I remember."

He could feel the heat from the blush on her face soaking into his skin. "Um… could you… um… could we…"

He gently lifted her chin and looked at her bright red face. "Why so shy all of a sudden? What's the matter, pet?"

She dropped her forehead back to his chest. "I just want to… um… do that again."

He smirked into her hair. "You want to beat each other bloody, then shag, then fall through the floor and keep shaggin' 'til the building falls down?"

She giggled against his skin, "Not exactly. I was kinda hoping to skip the fighting part, and the falling through the floor part, and the building falling down part."

He played the events of that day back through his mind then grinned wolfishly. "So you want me to shag you hard against a wall?"

Her forehead bounced lightly on his chest as she nodded, and her voice was barely above a whisper when she said, "Yes. That's what I want."

He placed a gentle kiss to the top of her head and murmured, "Any particular wall you fancy?"

She giggled again as she shook her head, "No, you can pick."

He lifted her chin and smiled, "You don't have to be embarrassed to ask for what you want from me, pet. You can ask me anythin' and you can tell me anythin'." She nodded with a deep blush still staining her cheeks. "Any particular reason you want me to have you against the wall?"

She started to speak, then had to clear her throat and try again, "Because I love your strength and how you hold me… and… and… it's just… really… um… sexy." She tucked her fingers into the waistband of his jeans and started tugging him toward the kitchen before he had a chance to say anything. "I thought about trying to get you to do that without telling you, but I was afraid we'd have to destroy half the house first."

Spike chuckled as he allowed himself to be pulled toward the kitchen door. "All you have to do is ask, pet. I'll shag you wherever you like. On the kitchen counter, the floor, the table, against the fridge…" She giggled as she pulled him through the kitchen door and pushed it closed behind him. He continued, "The dining room table… done that already… the couch, on the stairs, your bed, my bed, the back porch, hell… in the back garden. Just have to wait for nightfall or my shiny, white bum'll catch fire… again. Let's see, there's the washer in the basement, the coffee table in the living…."

She shut up her babbling vampire in the most effective way possible. Well, the most effective, un-dusty way possible. She grasped his head in her hands and pulled him down into a kiss. He walked her backwards until she was pressed against the wall next to his duster and deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with hers. When she broke away for oxygen, he laid his hands on the wall on either side of her shoulders then nipped and kissed down her jaw to her neck.

Suddenly he jerked his hand away from the wall, hissing in pain. "Bloody sunlight." Buffy turned her head and saw a shaft of sunlight streaming across the room from the window above the sink that was warming a spot on the wall where his hand had been.

"Oh! I'll get it." She pushed off the wall and he shook his head, capturing her lips in a heated kiss.

"I'll get it, pet." He walked around the island to the window over the sink, skirting the bright shaft of sunlight, and pulled the curtain tightly closed. When he turned around, Buffy was leaning back against the wall, completely naked. His black t-shirt was tossed haphazardly over one of the chairs, and she was licking her lips and sliding her hands over her taut belly.

He growled low in his chest, his leer becoming even more pronounced when her eyes drifted shut and the scent of her arousal suddenly increased. Her eyes opened halfway, the pupils dilated so that her eyes were almost completely black. Her breathing quickened as he prowled over to her like a panther, slinking fluidly across the kitchen, still growling.

He stopped in front of her and leaned down to inhale deeply then licked lightly at the junction of her neck and shoulder. He murmured, "Smell so good, pet," against her warm, flushed skin, smiling when she shuddered at his feather light touch. His hands settled on her waist, gripping firmly as her fingers made short work of the buttons of his jeans.

She pushed his jeans down over his hips as she whispered, "Need you now, Spike." He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist and sank down onto him with a loud moan, wrapping her arms around his neck. He pressed her tight against the wall and thrust deep as their mouths met in a furious clashing of teeth and lips. The pictures on the kitchen wall near Buffy's head bounced on their hooks from the force of Spike's thrusts. Buffy's nails dug into his shoulders as she held tight, pulling him as close to her as she could while his hips continued to piston furiously.

They didn't hear the sharp rapping on the front door. They didn't hear the door open, or the tentative steps across the dining room. Their mutual cries of release drowned out the quiet query of "Spike?" They couldn't hear the kitchen door hinges squeak over their harsh panting as the door was slowly pushed open. They did, however, hear the loud thump of a body hitting the floor, immediately following a loud exclamation of, "Oh Dear Lord!"