AN: Okay, I accidentally posted a bit of this on the end of the first chapter. I removed it when I realised my mistake but it was still there for a day or so. So if you recognise the first part of this chapter, that's why!
Chapter Two
When Buffy's alarm rang in the morning, her first thought was, Damn, I wish Spike was here.
Then she opened her eyes and he was there, inhumanly beautiful even when he slept, Alice curled against him, looking picture perfect.
She shook Will awake and left Spike and Alice asleep while she got Will ready for school. When she came home, Alice was watching TV in her pyjamas, a glass of milk in her hand. Spike was nowhere to be seen.
"He's still asleep," Alice said, and wrinkled her nose. "Daddy sleeps for hours."
"When he gets the chance," Buffy said. "Come on, time for you to get dressed."
Alice went to pre-school most days, for either a morning or afternoon. By the time Buffy had finished doing the laundry and cleaning up the kitchen, which was full of last night's debris, it was time to take her daughter in for the afternoon.
Spike was still asleep.
She got home, checked again, and this time made sure he was still breathing. Yep, and his pulse was fine too. Maybe he was in a coma.
She took the morning papers out to the garden with some lunch, and stretched out in the sun.
"Honestly," said a voice an hour later, "is this all you do all day?"
Buffy slowly put down her drink, folded the papers, and when she turned back to the house her expression was carefully controlled.
"I have made breakfast for two children, lunch for myself, cleaned the kitchen, done your laundry, and taken the kids to school," she said. "Tell me how productive your morning has been?"
Spike came down the porch steps into the sunlight. He was wearing jeans, and nothing else.
"I thought about you," he said.
Buffy raised an eyebrow.
"Okay, dreamed. They were very hot dreams," he said, coming closer and looking at her with big blue eyes. His lower lip was all pouty: biteable. Soft and delicious-looking.
Buffy had no idea she'd even stood up until she took that lip between her teeth and gently bit it. Spike groaned and his arms went around her and he whispered in her ear, "So the kids are both at school, right?"
"Mmm."
"And the house will be empty for a good couple of hours?"
"Well-"
"And in fact, so will the garden?"
His hands were slipping under the waistband of her jeans, sliding the zipper down, wandering inside. Buffy sucked in a breath.
"Neighbours," she said.
"Australian soap?"
"No, looking at us." She pulled away and called, "Nice day, Mrs Johannsen," and tugged Spike inside. He was laughing.
"Bet that's the best thrill she's had all year."
Buffy looked at his hot, hard, semi-naked body, and corrected, "Her whole life."
Spike grinned and licked her ear. "And you?"
"Best thrill I've had since... Oh, last time we did it in the garden."
Spike grinned, and kissed her, softly at first, and then with growing urgency. Buffy tugged him towards the stairs, stopping every few steps for more kisses, or to take off a bit of clothing. Thank God they lived an California and never needed to wear much!
By the time they hit the stairs Buffy's shirt was hanging off one arm and her shoes were in the living room somewhere. Her skirt was hitched up around her waist and Spike's hands were delving inside her knickers.
She tried to remember why she'd been going upstairs, but her brain had stopped working and the only thing that came to mind was: Spike! Hot Spike! Hard Spike! Want hot hard Spike now!
She pulled him down on the stairs and Spike, never one to quibble over location as long as there was naked Buffy involved, happily went down with her, unfastening the front clasp of her bra as he did. God bless the man - or woman - who'd invented the front fastener.
He licked her breasts, flicked one rosy nipple, and Buffy moaned.
"Oh God, Spike, I want you now..."
He looked up at her, his eyes dark and his lips bruised, and Buffy nearly came on the spot. She grabbed him to her for another kiss, her hands sliding all over those delicious hard muscles of his, pulling him a little bit closer, unfastening the straining zip on his jeans and closing her fingers around him.
Spike pulled back, sucking in a breath.
"Do you want this to be over in seconds?"
Buffy bit her lip and stroked him with her thumb.
"Jesus Christ, Buffy, I'm not Superman," he wrenched her hand away, and she gave him puppy-dog eyes. "I want this to last. I've been dreaming about it for bloody weeks."
He took both her hands in his and held them above her head, kissing her bare neck, making her arch against him. She ran her foot up his bare back, and when he moved down her body, she found her leg wrapped around his shoulders.
"Gonna get my own back," Spike murmured, his breath hot on her thigh, and then he licked into her, and Buffy let out an incoherent cry of pleasure. He'd always been so good at this, so naturally skilled. He was born to do it. She writhed under his hot lips and athletic tongue, her wrists still held by him, down at one side. She was trapped by her husband and he was torturing her: teasing her with indescribably pleasure, then stopping, then starting again, then stopping, until she was ready to scream.
"Oh God, please," she begged, hips bucking, heel digging into his back. "Spike, please..."
"Please what?" He was breathing raggedly.
"Don't stop... make me..."
"Make you come?"
"Yes."
"You want me to lick you out?"
"Yes. God, Spike, I'm nearly there...."
"Nearly where?"
At that she snapped, and wrenched her wrists from his grasp. She grabbed his platinum head and forced him to look at her. He was smirking smugly.
"Get down there and make me scream in ecstasy or hurt you so bad you'll never have sex again."
At that Spike grinned. "I do love a powerful woman," he sighed, and got back to work.
This time Buffy held onto him as he licked her, swirled his tongue into her, brought one hand down and stroked as he sucked and licked and made her scream unintelligibly.
"Ohh God, oh... Unh... You're so... Christ, don't... Unh! Ahhh! Aaiiiieeeeee..."
Someone knocked on the door, but Spike ignored it and Buffy was in no state to pay any attention to visitors.
Spike slipped two fingers inside her and Buffy's head crashed back against the stairs. "Oh my God!"
"Buffy?" said someone outside. "Are you in there?"
Panting hard, thrusting herself closer to Spike's miraculous mouth, Buffy didn't even hear as the visitor knocked again.
"Buffy?"
Spike inserted a third finger.
"Oh - my-"
The door opened, Spike grazed Buffy's clitoris with his teeth, and she came, screaming like a banshee, convulsing hard around his fingers, against his mouth, pleasure so intense she nearly passed out.
Xander stood in the doorway with a chair in his hands, staring.
"I'll just leave this here, shall I?"
And he was gone, the door slamming shut with a bang that woke Buffy from her semicomatose state.
"Was that the door?"
Spike got to his feet, looking very pleased with himself. "Nothing important," he said, and held out a hand to her. "Come on."
Buffy sat up, shakily. "Not sure if I can move."
He laughed at that. "God, I'm good. Come on, love," and he picked her up, still half dressed with her skirt all crumpled and her bra hanging open. She nuzzled his neck as he carried her through to the dining room and laid her out on the table.
"We don't use the bed any more?"
"Beds are boring," Spike said, shedding his jeans and climbing on top of her.
"Hey, I thought you were abstaining," Buffy teased, ridding herself of the rest of her clothes.
"No, I was holding out. There's a difference."
He settled in her arms, and both of them closed their eyes for a second at the rightness of it. "And that would be?"
"This way, we both get to come."
"Ah. I see the wisdom of your ways."
He slid up into her, and had to concentrate hard on not coming there and then. She was so wet, so bloody hot, holding him tight and deep inside her.
Buffy closed her arms around him and kissed his neck. "What are you waiting for?" she whispered.
Spike had always been a considerate lover. Even when he was being brutally rough with her, he always made sure she was enjoying herself. Not that he had to try very hard. All he had to do was take his clothes off and she was halfway there.
And now here he was, moving against her, lifting her legs around his waist, angling his hips against hers, nipping her throat with his teeth, and Buffy couldn't believe how good he felt sliding into her, his body hot and hard against hers. She arched into him, and he groaned.
"God, you feel good."
Buffy grinned wickedly to herself. "You might do too, if you moved just a little bit harder..."
Spike looked down at her, hurt disbelief on his face, then he caught the sparkle in her eye and growled, biting into her throat.
"You want it harder?" he said, and thrust in so hard Buffy lost her breath. "Like that?"
She nodded wordlessly.
"You want me hard..."
"Deeper..."
"Like that?"
"Oh, Christ..."
Before long he was pounding into her with such vigour the table was rocking. Buffy dug her nails into his back and whispered, "Harder, faster, deeper," in Spike's ear, and he thrust so hard it almost hurt, in the very best of ways.
"Come on," she encouraged, "I'm nearly there..."
"Again?"
"What can I say?" Buffy panted. "You're good."
"Yeah?" Spike slipped a hand down between them and fondled her clitoris.
Buffy's eyes rolled back in her head.
"You're very, very - oh, God..."
Spike smiled a little self-satisfied smile and bit down on Buffy's lower lip.
"God Spike, harder, just - yes, oh God, harder, hard... Spike, fuck me!"
And Spike did, so hard the table wobbled and lost balance and splintered and broke and they crashed to the floor in a heap of broken wood, neither of them noticing because they both came so hard at the same time that they screamed over the sound of the broken table and lay there, hot and tangled and both barely conscious.
Spike came back to earth first, and he started laughing.
"What?" Buffy said drowsily.
"Missed you," he kissed her neck, and she smiled, making an attempt to put her arms around him and failing because she'd absolutely no energy left at all.
"We're going to need a new table."
"Sod the table," Spike stretched above her, and Buffy lost interest in it as his body slid against hers and reminded her what a good time she'd just had.
They lay together for a while, breathing hard, moving little, enjoying being together again.
"Next time, don't go away so long," Buffy bashed Spike's back lightly.
"Hey, I wasn't planning on it being so long this time," he said. "I wanted to get those Lempickas for you."
This roused Buffy a bit more. "Did you?"
He nodded. "All three."
She frowned a little. "Legally?"
"Of course legally! I've got the sodding receipts if you don't trust me."
She kissed his nose. "Of course I trust you." She wrapped her arms around him and held him close. "How'd you pay for them?"
Spike looked a little sheepish. "Um, did you hear about a mosque fire in Dubai?"
Buffy narrowed her eyes. "Yes..."
"Well, that wasn't me."
"So...?"
"Mine was a temple in Cambodia."
"You knocked off a temple in Cambodia?"
"Well, it wasn't a current temple. I mean, there was no one worshipping there. Getting hurt or anything."
"You didn't kill anyone?"
"No. In fact, I saved a child's life."
"From the fire you'd started."
Spike made a face and started to move away. "I knew you'd have a go over this..."
Buffy pulled him back. "What'd you steal?"
"Just a few bits and bobs. Place was mostly derelict anyway. Tomb robbers'd been through there anyway."
"Tomb robbers? Spike, you went grave robbing?"
"There you go, getting all angry with me. Got you those Lempickas, didn't I?"
Buffy frowned at him, but he was right. She could display the paintings for months before she finally sold them off. People would pay to see them. Tamara de Lempicka was worth something.
"I'm not getting angry with you," she said. "It's kinda sexy, the whole tomb raider thing."
"If it's good enough for Lara Croft..."
"Who is made out of pixels," Buffy reminded him.
"Don't I get a reward?" Spike pouted.
"Only if you ask nicely."
He grinned and started nibbling on her earlobe, and Buffy started to roll him onto his back.
Then she stopped, wincing. "Ow!"
"You all right, pet?"
"Ow! No! God, lying on a heap of broken wood is bloody painful."
Spike rolled off her, making a face as his bare back hit the broken wood. And he'd been pounding Buffy into that.
"Why didn't you say something?"
"I was sort of... otherwise occupied."
He couldn't help a smirk at that as he stood and held out a hand to her. She took it and stretched, grumbling.
"That's what beds are for."
"Okay, we'll go to bed."
He started walking backwards, pulling Buffy after him, his smile promising all sorts of dirty things, when she suddenly stopped and stared, horrified.
"What?"
"Kids!"
Spike looked around in alarm. "Kids?"
"You know," Buffy let go of his hands and started looking for her clothes, "little people who cost us so much money?"
"I know who they are, pet," Spike looked behind him to see that had jolted Buffy. The clock. He sighed. "Pick-up time?"
"Pick-up time." Buffy frowned at the clock. "I'm late already... If I go get Alice first then the traffic going for Will'll be awful..."
"So get Will first."
"I don't want to leave Alice. She doesn't know everyone there yet."
"Well, you get Will and I'll get Alice."
"You know where it is?"
Spike shrugged, picking up his jeans. "Fourth Street Nursery, right? How hard can that be to find?"
Buffy threw her arms around him. "You're the best. I love you."
He smiled. "Love you too, pet. Right. Where's her car seat?"
All right, it's a really short chapter. But a certain person - naming no names - has been heckling me for more and if I don't give her some before I go away she'll come round to my house and scythe me to death...
