Title: Snap (The Peacemaker Prophesy, pt 22)
Author: Nimue
Rating: PG-13
Feedback: Yes, please
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing.
Summary: Buffy tries to talk Spike into reclaiming the One. New and
interesting perks are discovered.
Snap
When Buffy awoke again, she could not tell if it was night or day. The
blinds were drawn and the room was dark save for a candle on the bedside
table and the warm, red glow of the alarm clock. When had her life become normal, in a supernatural kind of way?
He was stroking her face softly with the back of his hand. "Welcome back, Love," he whispered, his eyes caught in hers.
"I should be saying that to you," she answered, smiling up at him.
"Right as rain, Pet," Spike said softly, etching her face into his memory along with the thousands of other freeze frames he'd taken along the way.
"Please don't almost die again," Buffy whispered, reaching up to feel his cheek under her palm. His soft skin. His chiseled cheekbones. "Don't go."
"Not leaving. You know that," he responded. She smiled again. That pretty schoolgirl smile that melted him time and time again.
"I know," she answered. His hands slipped to the back of her head, pulling her up to meet him. His lips pressed to hers softly, gently, like butterfly wings. He could feel all of the hurt and desperation left in her as she returned the kiss with more fire, pulling him against her, making them one.
One.
"Spike?" she said softly, pulling away. Her tone became serious. "You
know... what Emma said..."
He looked away, not willing, not able, to deal with this. "It can wait."
"It can't," Buffy answered in her resolved-Slayer voice.
"It can," Spike replied. "You need to rest. We can deal with the rest of the bloody universe tomorrow."
Buffy was quiet, wanting to agree. Wanting to just fall back into his arms and nestled down in the warmth of the bed. Maybe make love for an hour or five. Maybe just touch until she absorbed him through her skin. Some little itch in the back of her mind prevented it. It wasn't about the world. It was about him. For years she had hated and taken. Time to make good.
"Spike," she started, sitting up. "It's not about the universe. Not
everything is apocalyptic," she continued, remembering what Giles had told her. Spike sat up next to her. She turned to face him, legs folded neatly under her. "What Emma said... it made me feel.. guilty."
"Guilty? Why? Pet, you've nothing to feel guilty about," Spike answered, furrowing his brow.
"Because she was right."
Spike was silent, staring at her closely. "How so, Love?"
"I never. I didn't. I thought I knew what it meant to love the Vampire in you. But I don't. It's part of you and it isn't right that I don't understand," she stuttered nervously.
"It's not *in* you to understand, Buffy," Spike countered. "You're the
Slayer."
She raised her hands to his face. "And I love a Vampire," she said slowly. " And I have something that belongs to you. It's time I gave it back."
"Buffy," Spike sighed, his eyes burning, wanting to cry. "I won't.
I...we... have enough."
"I don't care about the power," Buffy answered. " I need to know. I need.. I need to try."
Spike was silent again. Finally, her looked at he. "Pet, I don't know if I could handle you... What if you don't love the monster?"
Buffy's turn to be pensive. Her hands still caressed his cheeks. She could see the big, wet tears pool in his beautiful eyes. Never spilling, but there, waiting. "Spike," she breathed. " I can't imagine not loving any part of you."
His head dropped. Fear and dread were sinking his heart. Not this. Not ever. The master had done it. Angel. That ponce Dracula. But between them, she wasn't the Slayer. He wasn't a Vampire. Between them, they just were.
"Change for me, Spike," she whispered.
"Buffy, no," he pleaded.
"Change for me, please," Buffy pleaded, pressing her lips to his. He
swallowed nervously then allowed his features to morph as her lips still
touched his. She felt his fangs graze her mouth and pulled gently away.
Spike was naked, desperate in front of her with the face of a monster and the heart of a man. Buffy studied him closely, tracing his mask with her eyes, then with her hands. Her fingers brushed the ridges in his brow, slid over the eyelids shadowing glimmering yellow eyes, let her palms rest upon stretched cheeks, her index finger tracing full red lips and sharp pointed fangs. Spike's heart sunk by the moment as she touched him, saw him, naked and alone in the one persona he could not escape.
Softly, Buffy began to cry.
"Buffy," Spike whispered, touching her small hand still pressed to his
cheek. "Buffy, I can go back."
"No," she answered, the tears still drizzling down her face. "I didn't get it... not until now."
"What?" He asked, still in game face.
"You look the same," Buffy answered. He stared at her quizzically. "You are what you are, Spike. I love that about you."
"Buffy, I..."
"Shh," she whispered, softly kissing him again. Her fingers dropped to the buttons of her top. Spike watched her unbutton each one delicately. He felt himself caught between excitement and dread. The blue silk slid to the bed behind her and she scooted towards him, shifting gracefully into his lap. Her legs wrapped loosely around his waist.
"Buffy," Spike sighed, stroking her shoulders, letting his fingers trail
down her bare arms. "I..."
"Spike," she whispered, pulling her hair behind her. She tilted her head to the side, exposing a vast stretch of beautiful bronzed skin, her pulse jumping in her veins. The skin she offered was unmarked. The opposite side from Angel.
"I can't," he said, the tears falling from golden eyes.
"Spike," she whispered, breathlessly, scooting closer, her bare chest
pressed to his. "I love you. Please." Buffy pleaded. " I need to
understand."
"How can you? How can you accept... this?"
"Give me the chance."
Spike leaned forward and Buffy felt the tears drip softly on her skin.
Gently, like a cat cleaning its paws, he ran his tongue along her neck,
lapping gently. His breath was warm and sweet, setting off every alarm in her body. Fear. Fight. Flight. Pleasure. "Please, Buffy," he whispered against her skin. "Please don't ask me to do this."
"Spike, I need you to take what's yours. I can't live with myself if you don't."
The monster was raging, desperate to feed, to take, to claim, but the man fought it. No. If he had to do this, he would not, could not, hurt her.
"I trust you," Buffy said, raising her small hand as if in pledge. He
raised his hand to hers, letting their palms press together, his fingers
threading between hers. Spike stared once again into those beautiful green eyes. "Claim me," she said, her voice a throaty whisper. He leaned forward once again, hand still caught in hers. She could feel his hair brush her cheek, his fangs scrape her skin gently, almost imperceptibly.
"Mine," Spike whispered.
"Yours," Buffy responded, her eyes slowly closing.
At first the pain was sharp, intense, as if a hole had been bored into her very core, releasing everything inside of her. Buffy gasped and could feel Spike shudder, the muscles of his back tensing to pull away. "No," Buffy whispered, her fingers trailing up his back, gracefully sliding over his skin. She cupped a palm behind his head, holding him against her as one would a child.
The pain faded and she felt a fragile warmth crawl into her, simmering her blood, meandering through her veins like a slow moving stream. The pain was gone completely and all she sensed was the warmth. There was no savagery, no ripping skin, angry movements, reckless taking. Buffy felt her blood moving and felt him sipping her essence, but he suckled as gently as a baby to its mother. More gently. The warmth spread and she felt It pump into her heart, burning and exploding until she rocked back from the feeling. It felt as if her heart had been frozen in ice for so long and he tenderly thawed it, moment by moment, until the ice shattered into rain.
Buffy felt Spike tense again at her movement, pulling back, but she held his head to her. "No," she whispered again. "Don't."
His arms wrapped around her waist, one sliding up her spine, cradling her against him, steadying her. She felt his fingers press to the back of her neck, supporting her as the stars began to dance in her eyes. The demon raged inside of him, desperate to take her, drain her hard, agonizingly hard. But he fought it, taking only what he needed. Softly, slowly. Never hurt her. Never again.
She felt it start like a million tiny feathers brushing her skin, caressing her until her body tingled and her heart ached with love. Buffy felt surrounded enveloped, hopelessly entwined, almost as she had in the ether. This time it was more intense. She opened her eyes and saw only silver. Glittering silver, shining all around, dancing over them, around them. His tears had stopped and she could feel him relax into a slow, steady rhythm, their hearts synchronizing, their minds and spirits melting into the silvery glow.
Spike felt her relax, give in, melt into him. She mewled and whispered
against his shoulder, assuring him she was all right. As her muscles
slacked, he let go. Stopped fighting the demon. Just held her against him, hoping, feeling, it was the right thing to do. His eyes flickered up and he saw only the flesh of her neck below him and a sparkling silver glow. Spike closed his eyes again, tasting her blood flow into him. Her heart. Her soul. Her life and it dawned on him. He wasn't fighting it anymore, but the killer did not rise.
"I love you, Spike," she whispered quietly, before falling silent for what seemed like eternity.
Buffy gasped, her entire body shuddering, rocking back, pulling against him. Spike panicked, but found he could not move. Could not release her. She trembled and gasped and he felt a snap as his body absorbed her movement like the aftershock of an earthquake. He felt a tremble from the roots of his hair, shooting down his spine and branching into every limb, igniting every cell, making his heart cry out in love and agony. Then a sharp snap as if pieces of a jigsaw puzzle had found their proper place.
Buffy floated above herself, wrapped in silver. She felt Spike there.
Around her. Passing through her until they were face to face, body to body, life to life, hovering above themselves.
"Mine," he whispered, pressing his palms to hers.
"Yours," she answered, stepping forward and snapping into One.
*****
Buffy awoke slowly, letting the tingle of her skin, the scent of his warm body, the feeling of completion, swirl around inside of her. Taking her time coming to the surface. She felt a coolness on her lips, then the sensation of water drizzling down her throat. Buffy let her eyes drift open.
Spike had her cradled against him on his lap, her head resting on his
shoulder, feeding her water. Taking care of her. Always.
"You alright, Love?" Spike asked as her eyes focused lazily on him. The concern. The sweetness. But something else. Buffy thought that nothing in this world could have made his eyes more endless and meaningful, but now she knew differently. Those beautiful, crystal blue eyes.
Buffy smiled up at him. "I feel..."
"Stronger," he answered.
"Yeah," she said, grinning up at him sweetly. God, did she know what that innocent grin did to him? They had been together hundreds of times in countless ways and had a child together, but that grin turned her into a virginal schoolgirl and he into the helpless bloke trying to ask her on a date.
"Close your eyes. I've something to show you," Spike said with a sly grin of his own. Buffy furrowed her brow as if deep in thought.
"Nothing naughty. I know what you're thinking."
"What?" Spike asked.
"I know..." A lightbulb nearly appeared above her head. " I know what
you're thinking!" she exclaimed.
"What, you can read my sodding thoughts?" he stuttered.
"No!" she giggled. " I can just sort of feel it."
"Oh," Spike said, relaxing a bit. "Hate to burst your bubble, Pet, but it is pretty bloody obvious that I might be having naughty thoughts with my beautiful, mostly naked, ... you.. in my lap. Not much of a leap."
"Right," Buffy commented, blushing, then deviously moving up his lap before stilling again.
"Not fair, Love. And quit stealing my bloody thunder," he quipped.
"Alright, alright," Buffy whined, still grinning.
"Now close your eyes."
Buffy complied, shutting her eyes. She felt him shift under her and then felt his fingers trailing lazily up and down her arms. She hummed, warming everywhere all at once. "I've seen this trick," she said, her eyes still closed. "Not that it's not one of my favourites."
"Then open your eyes."
Again, Buffy complied. She still felt the warm sensation of his hands
running up and down her bare arms, but he was sitting on his hands like naughty child. "Wha...?" Buffy said, wide eyed, looking around her for
whatever it was that was touching her and making her legs turn to jello.
"Pretty handy," Spike said, slyly smiling at her.
"How.....?" Buffy stuttered.
"Think this One bit has a perk or two."
"That's not fair!" she squeaked. But why not try it. She closed her eyes, seeing herself nuzzling his ear, licking it teasingly, giving it a little nip. He shifted uncomfortably beneath her.
"Buffy," Spike gasped.
"Handy," she repeated with an enormous grin painting her face.
"Much more interesting than your little mind meld."
"Oh *really?" Buffy responded, imagining something *very* naughty.
"Buffy!" he gasped, pushing her off his lap into a giggling heap on the
comforter. "Good God, woman! And I thought I was creative."
" I wonder what the range on this is," she said, rolling onto her stomach and beginning to crawl back towards him on her elbows. " Like if you were downstairs and I was up here, do you think...?"
"God forbid you have a naughty dream," Spike snarked, covering his own
chuckle.
"Ooooh! And I wonder if... well... if we were already doing one thing, but thinking of another..."
"Double the fun, Pet?" Spike asked. "Hate to burst another bubble, but
neither of our capacities for coherent thought are running on high at that point."
"True," Buffy answered, back to the schoolgirl grin and creeping ever closer on those beautiful bare arms until she was stretched along him, elbows planted on either side of his chest. "Why did you say my beautiful...'you' before?" She asked.
"What, Pet?"
"When you thought I was reading your mind..."
"No, *you* thought that."
"Whatever," she waved off. "But you said 'my beautiful... 'you.' 'You' the best you can do nowadays?"
Spike regarded her. Her pretty green eyes staring up at him with love and sweetness and a good dollop of desire. "Not always sure how to refer to you, Love."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I never thought 'my baby's mutha' had much of a ring," Spike joked in his worst American ghetto accent. Buffy collapsed onto his stomach, laughing so hard that it began to hurt and feeling his body shaking with laughter under her. After several minutes of near hyperventilation, she wiped the tears from her eyes and managed to look at him again.
"Thank God for that," she finally said, still giggling.
"And," he said, smiling smugly at finally being able to make her lose
herself in more that just one way. "I think that we are well beyond
girlfriend."
"Not to mention that it sounds very high school," Buffy commented.
"You do understand that I am exercising endless restraint in not pouncing on that comment."
"Understood," she answered, giggling again. Suppose I do whine about the glory days of high school once in a while, she thought.
He looked at her again, taking her in, his tone changing subtly. "And I
could call you ..."
"Wife?" Buffy asked.
"You know where I stand," he answered, turning the ring on her finger back and forth against her skin.
"That works for me," Buffy said softly. Spike looked at her wide eyed,
cocking his head, trying to wrap his mind around that one. "I think we
might be beyond that too," she continued.
Spike looked at her, knowing, feeling. " I could call you Everything.
Because that would be the truth," he said softly.
She slid up his body until they were face to face. "You are my Everything," Buffy whispered.
"My Everything," he repeated, kissing her softly. "Always."
"Every day."
Final - Epilogue to follow
Author: Nimue
Rating: PG-13
Feedback: Yes, please
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing.
Summary: Buffy tries to talk Spike into reclaiming the One. New and
interesting perks are discovered.
Snap
When Buffy awoke again, she could not tell if it was night or day. The
blinds were drawn and the room was dark save for a candle on the bedside
table and the warm, red glow of the alarm clock. When had her life become normal, in a supernatural kind of way?
He was stroking her face softly with the back of his hand. "Welcome back, Love," he whispered, his eyes caught in hers.
"I should be saying that to you," she answered, smiling up at him.
"Right as rain, Pet," Spike said softly, etching her face into his memory along with the thousands of other freeze frames he'd taken along the way.
"Please don't almost die again," Buffy whispered, reaching up to feel his cheek under her palm. His soft skin. His chiseled cheekbones. "Don't go."
"Not leaving. You know that," he responded. She smiled again. That pretty schoolgirl smile that melted him time and time again.
"I know," she answered. His hands slipped to the back of her head, pulling her up to meet him. His lips pressed to hers softly, gently, like butterfly wings. He could feel all of the hurt and desperation left in her as she returned the kiss with more fire, pulling him against her, making them one.
One.
"Spike?" she said softly, pulling away. Her tone became serious. "You
know... what Emma said..."
He looked away, not willing, not able, to deal with this. "It can wait."
"It can't," Buffy answered in her resolved-Slayer voice.
"It can," Spike replied. "You need to rest. We can deal with the rest of the bloody universe tomorrow."
Buffy was quiet, wanting to agree. Wanting to just fall back into his arms and nestled down in the warmth of the bed. Maybe make love for an hour or five. Maybe just touch until she absorbed him through her skin. Some little itch in the back of her mind prevented it. It wasn't about the world. It was about him. For years she had hated and taken. Time to make good.
"Spike," she started, sitting up. "It's not about the universe. Not
everything is apocalyptic," she continued, remembering what Giles had told her. Spike sat up next to her. She turned to face him, legs folded neatly under her. "What Emma said... it made me feel.. guilty."
"Guilty? Why? Pet, you've nothing to feel guilty about," Spike answered, furrowing his brow.
"Because she was right."
Spike was silent, staring at her closely. "How so, Love?"
"I never. I didn't. I thought I knew what it meant to love the Vampire in you. But I don't. It's part of you and it isn't right that I don't understand," she stuttered nervously.
"It's not *in* you to understand, Buffy," Spike countered. "You're the
Slayer."
She raised her hands to his face. "And I love a Vampire," she said slowly. " And I have something that belongs to you. It's time I gave it back."
"Buffy," Spike sighed, his eyes burning, wanting to cry. "I won't.
I...we... have enough."
"I don't care about the power," Buffy answered. " I need to know. I need.. I need to try."
Spike was silent again. Finally, her looked at he. "Pet, I don't know if I could handle you... What if you don't love the monster?"
Buffy's turn to be pensive. Her hands still caressed his cheeks. She could see the big, wet tears pool in his beautiful eyes. Never spilling, but there, waiting. "Spike," she breathed. " I can't imagine not loving any part of you."
His head dropped. Fear and dread were sinking his heart. Not this. Not ever. The master had done it. Angel. That ponce Dracula. But between them, she wasn't the Slayer. He wasn't a Vampire. Between them, they just were.
"Change for me, Spike," she whispered.
"Buffy, no," he pleaded.
"Change for me, please," Buffy pleaded, pressing her lips to his. He
swallowed nervously then allowed his features to morph as her lips still
touched his. She felt his fangs graze her mouth and pulled gently away.
Spike was naked, desperate in front of her with the face of a monster and the heart of a man. Buffy studied him closely, tracing his mask with her eyes, then with her hands. Her fingers brushed the ridges in his brow, slid over the eyelids shadowing glimmering yellow eyes, let her palms rest upon stretched cheeks, her index finger tracing full red lips and sharp pointed fangs. Spike's heart sunk by the moment as she touched him, saw him, naked and alone in the one persona he could not escape.
Softly, Buffy began to cry.
"Buffy," Spike whispered, touching her small hand still pressed to his
cheek. "Buffy, I can go back."
"No," she answered, the tears still drizzling down her face. "I didn't get it... not until now."
"What?" He asked, still in game face.
"You look the same," Buffy answered. He stared at her quizzically. "You are what you are, Spike. I love that about you."
"Buffy, I..."
"Shh," she whispered, softly kissing him again. Her fingers dropped to the buttons of her top. Spike watched her unbutton each one delicately. He felt himself caught between excitement and dread. The blue silk slid to the bed behind her and she scooted towards him, shifting gracefully into his lap. Her legs wrapped loosely around his waist.
"Buffy," Spike sighed, stroking her shoulders, letting his fingers trail
down her bare arms. "I..."
"Spike," she whispered, pulling her hair behind her. She tilted her head to the side, exposing a vast stretch of beautiful bronzed skin, her pulse jumping in her veins. The skin she offered was unmarked. The opposite side from Angel.
"I can't," he said, the tears falling from golden eyes.
"Spike," she whispered, breathlessly, scooting closer, her bare chest
pressed to his. "I love you. Please." Buffy pleaded. " I need to
understand."
"How can you? How can you accept... this?"
"Give me the chance."
Spike leaned forward and Buffy felt the tears drip softly on her skin.
Gently, like a cat cleaning its paws, he ran his tongue along her neck,
lapping gently. His breath was warm and sweet, setting off every alarm in her body. Fear. Fight. Flight. Pleasure. "Please, Buffy," he whispered against her skin. "Please don't ask me to do this."
"Spike, I need you to take what's yours. I can't live with myself if you don't."
The monster was raging, desperate to feed, to take, to claim, but the man fought it. No. If he had to do this, he would not, could not, hurt her.
"I trust you," Buffy said, raising her small hand as if in pledge. He
raised his hand to hers, letting their palms press together, his fingers
threading between hers. Spike stared once again into those beautiful green eyes. "Claim me," she said, her voice a throaty whisper. He leaned forward once again, hand still caught in hers. She could feel his hair brush her cheek, his fangs scrape her skin gently, almost imperceptibly.
"Mine," Spike whispered.
"Yours," Buffy responded, her eyes slowly closing.
At first the pain was sharp, intense, as if a hole had been bored into her very core, releasing everything inside of her. Buffy gasped and could feel Spike shudder, the muscles of his back tensing to pull away. "No," Buffy whispered, her fingers trailing up his back, gracefully sliding over his skin. She cupped a palm behind his head, holding him against her as one would a child.
The pain faded and she felt a fragile warmth crawl into her, simmering her blood, meandering through her veins like a slow moving stream. The pain was gone completely and all she sensed was the warmth. There was no savagery, no ripping skin, angry movements, reckless taking. Buffy felt her blood moving and felt him sipping her essence, but he suckled as gently as a baby to its mother. More gently. The warmth spread and she felt It pump into her heart, burning and exploding until she rocked back from the feeling. It felt as if her heart had been frozen in ice for so long and he tenderly thawed it, moment by moment, until the ice shattered into rain.
Buffy felt Spike tense again at her movement, pulling back, but she held his head to her. "No," she whispered again. "Don't."
His arms wrapped around her waist, one sliding up her spine, cradling her against him, steadying her. She felt his fingers press to the back of her neck, supporting her as the stars began to dance in her eyes. The demon raged inside of him, desperate to take her, drain her hard, agonizingly hard. But he fought it, taking only what he needed. Softly, slowly. Never hurt her. Never again.
She felt it start like a million tiny feathers brushing her skin, caressing her until her body tingled and her heart ached with love. Buffy felt surrounded enveloped, hopelessly entwined, almost as she had in the ether. This time it was more intense. She opened her eyes and saw only silver. Glittering silver, shining all around, dancing over them, around them. His tears had stopped and she could feel him relax into a slow, steady rhythm, their hearts synchronizing, their minds and spirits melting into the silvery glow.
Spike felt her relax, give in, melt into him. She mewled and whispered
against his shoulder, assuring him she was all right. As her muscles
slacked, he let go. Stopped fighting the demon. Just held her against him, hoping, feeling, it was the right thing to do. His eyes flickered up and he saw only the flesh of her neck below him and a sparkling silver glow. Spike closed his eyes again, tasting her blood flow into him. Her heart. Her soul. Her life and it dawned on him. He wasn't fighting it anymore, but the killer did not rise.
"I love you, Spike," she whispered quietly, before falling silent for what seemed like eternity.
Buffy gasped, her entire body shuddering, rocking back, pulling against him. Spike panicked, but found he could not move. Could not release her. She trembled and gasped and he felt a snap as his body absorbed her movement like the aftershock of an earthquake. He felt a tremble from the roots of his hair, shooting down his spine and branching into every limb, igniting every cell, making his heart cry out in love and agony. Then a sharp snap as if pieces of a jigsaw puzzle had found their proper place.
Buffy floated above herself, wrapped in silver. She felt Spike there.
Around her. Passing through her until they were face to face, body to body, life to life, hovering above themselves.
"Mine," he whispered, pressing his palms to hers.
"Yours," she answered, stepping forward and snapping into One.
*****
Buffy awoke slowly, letting the tingle of her skin, the scent of his warm body, the feeling of completion, swirl around inside of her. Taking her time coming to the surface. She felt a coolness on her lips, then the sensation of water drizzling down her throat. Buffy let her eyes drift open.
Spike had her cradled against him on his lap, her head resting on his
shoulder, feeding her water. Taking care of her. Always.
"You alright, Love?" Spike asked as her eyes focused lazily on him. The concern. The sweetness. But something else. Buffy thought that nothing in this world could have made his eyes more endless and meaningful, but now she knew differently. Those beautiful, crystal blue eyes.
Buffy smiled up at him. "I feel..."
"Stronger," he answered.
"Yeah," she said, grinning up at him sweetly. God, did she know what that innocent grin did to him? They had been together hundreds of times in countless ways and had a child together, but that grin turned her into a virginal schoolgirl and he into the helpless bloke trying to ask her on a date.
"Close your eyes. I've something to show you," Spike said with a sly grin of his own. Buffy furrowed her brow as if deep in thought.
"Nothing naughty. I know what you're thinking."
"What?" Spike asked.
"I know..." A lightbulb nearly appeared above her head. " I know what
you're thinking!" she exclaimed.
"What, you can read my sodding thoughts?" he stuttered.
"No!" she giggled. " I can just sort of feel it."
"Oh," Spike said, relaxing a bit. "Hate to burst your bubble, Pet, but it is pretty bloody obvious that I might be having naughty thoughts with my beautiful, mostly naked, ... you.. in my lap. Not much of a leap."
"Right," Buffy commented, blushing, then deviously moving up his lap before stilling again.
"Not fair, Love. And quit stealing my bloody thunder," he quipped.
"Alright, alright," Buffy whined, still grinning.
"Now close your eyes."
Buffy complied, shutting her eyes. She felt him shift under her and then felt his fingers trailing lazily up and down her arms. She hummed, warming everywhere all at once. "I've seen this trick," she said, her eyes still closed. "Not that it's not one of my favourites."
"Then open your eyes."
Again, Buffy complied. She still felt the warm sensation of his hands
running up and down her bare arms, but he was sitting on his hands like naughty child. "Wha...?" Buffy said, wide eyed, looking around her for
whatever it was that was touching her and making her legs turn to jello.
"Pretty handy," Spike said, slyly smiling at her.
"How.....?" Buffy stuttered.
"Think this One bit has a perk or two."
"That's not fair!" she squeaked. But why not try it. She closed her eyes, seeing herself nuzzling his ear, licking it teasingly, giving it a little nip. He shifted uncomfortably beneath her.
"Buffy," Spike gasped.
"Handy," she repeated with an enormous grin painting her face.
"Much more interesting than your little mind meld."
"Oh *really?" Buffy responded, imagining something *very* naughty.
"Buffy!" he gasped, pushing her off his lap into a giggling heap on the
comforter. "Good God, woman! And I thought I was creative."
" I wonder what the range on this is," she said, rolling onto her stomach and beginning to crawl back towards him on her elbows. " Like if you were downstairs and I was up here, do you think...?"
"God forbid you have a naughty dream," Spike snarked, covering his own
chuckle.
"Ooooh! And I wonder if... well... if we were already doing one thing, but thinking of another..."
"Double the fun, Pet?" Spike asked. "Hate to burst another bubble, but
neither of our capacities for coherent thought are running on high at that point."
"True," Buffy answered, back to the schoolgirl grin and creeping ever closer on those beautiful bare arms until she was stretched along him, elbows planted on either side of his chest. "Why did you say my beautiful...'you' before?" She asked.
"What, Pet?"
"When you thought I was reading your mind..."
"No, *you* thought that."
"Whatever," she waved off. "But you said 'my beautiful... 'you.' 'You' the best you can do nowadays?"
Spike regarded her. Her pretty green eyes staring up at him with love and sweetness and a good dollop of desire. "Not always sure how to refer to you, Love."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I never thought 'my baby's mutha' had much of a ring," Spike joked in his worst American ghetto accent. Buffy collapsed onto his stomach, laughing so hard that it began to hurt and feeling his body shaking with laughter under her. After several minutes of near hyperventilation, she wiped the tears from her eyes and managed to look at him again.
"Thank God for that," she finally said, still giggling.
"And," he said, smiling smugly at finally being able to make her lose
herself in more that just one way. "I think that we are well beyond
girlfriend."
"Not to mention that it sounds very high school," Buffy commented.
"You do understand that I am exercising endless restraint in not pouncing on that comment."
"Understood," she answered, giggling again. Suppose I do whine about the glory days of high school once in a while, she thought.
He looked at her again, taking her in, his tone changing subtly. "And I
could call you ..."
"Wife?" Buffy asked.
"You know where I stand," he answered, turning the ring on her finger back and forth against her skin.
"That works for me," Buffy said softly. Spike looked at her wide eyed,
cocking his head, trying to wrap his mind around that one. "I think we
might be beyond that too," she continued.
Spike looked at her, knowing, feeling. " I could call you Everything.
Because that would be the truth," he said softly.
She slid up his body until they were face to face. "You are my Everything," Buffy whispered.
"My Everything," he repeated, kissing her softly. "Always."
"Every day."
Final - Epilogue to follow
