Mortal Allies Series
Episode 5
War and Roses
By: Passion4Spike
Chapter 32: Fairytales
Chapter Notes:
Okay, technically, there is one more chapter after this one. Yes, we are almost at the end of this story! I say 'technically', because MissLuci and I have an idea for a romantic, sexy epilogue, but it's not done yet. So, one chapter and possibly an epilogue to come at some point in the hopefully not too distant future.
If you have questions, if you think I've left some plot thread hanging, SPEAK UP, and I'll try to make sure it's covered (or let you know if it's something that will be covered in a later story).
I can't thank MissLuci enough for all her suggestions, inspirations, and encouragement! She's truly made this story so much better. And, of course, THANK YOU all for reading! It's what keeps my muse engaged and rolling in the cat-nippy goodness of your comments and likes.
-X-
"So, you're totally sure the witches are gone?" Buffy asked Giles across the dining table at her house. Her mom had made yummy Campbell's tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for the gang after Giles had called only a few hours later to say the coast was clear.
Buffy had hoped it would've taken a few days for the Council to clear out of town; they'd only managed to consecrate half of the basement stairs before they got the call to meet back at Revello.
"Lydia wasn't technically a witch," Willow pointed out as she and Oz shared a sandwich. It wasn't really a mealtime—late-afternoon—but Buffy had been starving for some reason, so her mom had whipped up one of her favorites for the meeting.
Buffy snorted derisively before starting on her second sandwich. "Maybe I got the first letter wrong," she muttered darkly.
"Buffy, I know you don't approve of her methods," Giles intervened. "But I believe Miss Chalmers has proven to be trustworthy." He waved at the items on the sideboard. "She left the original of her report with us, as well as the heavily edited version she'll actually be filing, reporting your breakup. She even left the... errr... photographic evidence from her last meeting with Spike, though it is the strangest film I've ever seen."
"It's a computer disk," Willow corrected. "No one uses film anymore."
Joyce cleared her throat. "Well, some of us do."
Buffy scowled. "Lot of good that does us. I don't even have a computer. How are we supposed to see what's on it? Take it to school? Is there anything on there I'll be arrested for?" she wondered, looking at Spike dubiously.
He smirked, leaned in and whispered in her ear, "Nothing too risqué, but can give you the full show and then some, pet."
Buffy blushed and shivered, his breath tickling down her spine like fire. She squeezed his thigh, drawing a satisfying groan from Spike.
Willow frowned, considering. "Maybe we should get a computer, you know, for research and stuff? I had them wire Spike's house for internet access when they put in the cable. We could set it up there."
Spike leaned back in his chair and dug into his front pocket, coming out with a thick wad of bills. He peeled off a stack of hundreds and slid them across the table to the witch. "That enough t' get a nice one?"
"Uh, yeah, I think so," Willow stuttered, taking the money.
Spike nodded, then dipped the corner of his sandwich into his mug of blood and took a bite. The new microwave he'd bought for the Summers' had some custom settings on it. Red had helped him program one for 'blood' earlier; now 98.6 was a doddle, no fiddling with minutes and seconds and power settings, and Buffy didn't have to worry about blood splatters dripping on her popcorn. Though the way she'd bit into his neck earlier, he wasn't sure that was still an issue. He lifted a hand to touch the mark, wondering when he could get her alone to do that again.
"But how do you, like, print them out?" Buffy wondered. "Those printers with the green and white paper don't seem ideal for photos."
"Oh, you can take them to the drug store, just like regular film," Willow explained. "They have these machines now where you slide the disk in and pick which ones you want printed."
"Huh..." Buffy muttered, dipping her sandwich into her soup before taking another bite. "One of each, please. But don't get arrested. You might want to screen them first."
Willow's eyes went a little wide but she nodded shakily, not sure if Buffy was kidding or not. Should she tell Buffy that once they were loaded onto a computer, she could have them there forever? Maybe later...
"While I'm certain these photographs are quite scintillating…"
"Could have Red print you a set too, old man." Spike waggled his brows at Giles, who ignored the vampire and continued as if uninterrupted.
"We do still have another matter to deal with. A new Watcher will likely show up in the next few days," Giles pointed out. He'd just made himself some tea and was sipping it as they talked.
Buffy rolled her eyes before he continued, "With any luck, Miss Chalmers will have been given full credit for the demise of your relationship, and her promotion and new assignment will be finalized before they arrive and realize you've... er, reconciled."
"But right now we aren't being spied on?" Buffy asked, as she and Xander both reached for the last sandwich on the platter at the same time. They both instinctively pulled their hands back and Spike leaned forward and nabbed it before either of them could blink.
"Hey!" Buffy and Xander both exclaimed.
Spike set the sandwich on Buffy's plate, and she beamed at him, that dazzling smile that made her eyes dance and his heart sing.
"Hey!" Xander repeated. "That's so not fair. After everything I've done for you! You'd think I rated at least half a sandwich," he grumbled at Spike.
Spike gave him a lascivious grin. "Can assure you, what the Slayer does for me is—oph!" Buffy's elbow stopped whatever NSFM (Not Safe for Mom) thing Spike was gonna say.
She gave him an innocent smile, pulling the sandwich apart and handing half to Xander, as the vampire rubbed his bruised ribs. "Pay for that, you will," Spike muttered, his eyes flashing momentarily gold as he glared at her.
Buffy's grin turned devilish. "Promises, promises," she whispered, barely loud enough for Spike to hear.
"How did things go with Faith?" Joyce asked, breaking the bubble of sexual tension that was forming around the two blondes.
Buffy sagged and looked back at her food, suddenly losing her appetite. "She already knew... about the money from the Council and everything," she admitted. Everyone started asking how she could've known. Buffy rolled her eyes. "Apparently, we weren't as stealthy as we thought. She said she overheard... us talking about it." Which was generous, since Faith had said it was 'her friends', but that was spilled milk under the bridge now. "She's uberly-pissed... pissed-er?"
Giles sighed and removed his glasses to scrub.
"I'm not sure how much help we can expect from her," Buffy finished.
"The question is, what retaliation we may expect from her," Giles amended.
"Yeah, that too," the Slayer agreed dourly. "Also, with the Angel hang-age. It's a bit wigsome."
"Certainly something to keep an eye on," Giles agreed.
"Surely, Faith wouldn't do anything foolish," Joyce offered.
Everyone looked at her like she'd just said the soup was made of demon entrails.
Joyce cleared her throat and looked down at her plate. "I could be mistaken."
"I'll keep trying to give her money. She tried to give it back to me today, but I left it there."
"Maybe the new Watcher can pull a Dr. Phil style intervention with her," Oz suggested. "It pretty much always seems to work on TV."
Buffy arched a brow. "I think it would take Dr. Phil, Dr. Ruth, Dr. Freud, and Hulk Hogan to even make a dent in her twisted psyche. But maybe the new Council lackey could soften her up by making with the monetary peace offerings."
Giles nodded. "It would be worth a try."
Spike dropped the last of his sandwich to the dog, who was lying at his feet, eyes alert, impatiently waiting for his share. The snapping jaws sounded like a shark had invaded the room, and Spike chuckled as he stood up. "Gonna pack up some o' the extra weapons and equipment t' take over to Hawley Manor," he announced.
The vampire stretched a bit, his muscles deliciously sore from his afternoon with Buffy. His external wounds had healed, the burns and bruises were gone, but apparently some things were beyond his ability to 'heal' quickly, or maybe his demon just didn't want that sated soreness to fade.
Buffy licked her lips when his t-shirt rode up, revealing a tantalizing swath of smooth, pale skin above his belt. She longed to reach out and touch it, but the NSFM rule was still in effect.
"Got some bits and bobs to pick up in town after dark, too. You get your uncle's lory, halfwit?" he asked, looking at Xander.
"Uhhh," the boy stammered, swallowing hard and looking anywhere but at Spike.
"Oh, for fuck's sake, Harris," he grumbled, lowering his arms, and covering up that perfectly lickable skin.
"The truck needs a new transmission," Xander explained. "I got Uncle Rory's car, though," he offered hopefully.
"I've got a sodding car, you numskull! Need something bigger for hauling."
"It's a convertible," Xander continued quickly. "I thought we could, you know, just put stuff on it like a flatbed and tie it down."
"What an utter twat," Spike grumbled, before leaning down to kiss Buffy gently on the lips. "Be out in the garage, pet. Anything special you want me t' pack?"
"I'm sure whatever you pick will be perfect," she replied, tugging him back down by one lapel to kiss him again, slow and lingering.
Xander started making retching sounds.
Spike stood back up, shooting the boy a death glare. "Just for that, you can bring your sodding car 'round back and load up the boxes, you jealous wanker."
Xander started spluttering his outrage as Spike headed for the back door.
"Now," Spike barked.
"I'm not your minion, you aren't the boss of me," Xander challenged.
"Point of fact, I am the boss of you. 'Less want your home away from home to be the bloody mutt's room," Spike called over his shoulder.
"Are you going to threaten that every time you want me to do something?" Xander demanded, hurrying to finish his half of the sandwich Buffy had shared.
"Seems t' work, don't it?" Spike retorted, closing the kitchen door behind him.
"Your boyfriend's a dick," Xander grumbled to Buffy, drinking the rest of his soup as he stood up.
She smiled dreamily. "Yeah, a really, really big one."
Giles and Xander choked on whatever they had in their mouths, while Joyce covered her smile with a hand, and Willow giggled. Oz, of course, just looked like Oz.
-X-
By the time the gang had left and Buffy helped her mom clean up the dishes, the sun was down. She'd expected Spike to come back in before now, but since he hadn't, she went out to check on the two guys—musing on the chances of one of them being dead... or deader. What she found was nothing. No Spike. No Xander. The boxes of equipment and weapons were piled by the door, but there was no car waiting to be loaded.
She furrowed her brow and stepped into the alley behind the garage, looking up and down. Just as she was about to step back and head to the house to call Spike's cell, a car turned the corner at the end of the block, tires squealing, and came speeding down the alley. Buffy jumped back as it came to a screeching stop in front of her, a grinning Spike behind the wheel. Xander was in the passenger seat, one arm braced on the dash, the other clutching the armrest, his face a mask of pure panic.
"Bloody brilliant!" Spike exclaimed, not bothering to open the door on the convertible, simply standing up on the seat and jumping down to the pavement.
"T-Thanks," Xander squeaked, his hand shaking as he tried to find the latch to undo the lap belt.
"Where have you guys been? I thought you were loading this stuff—" Buffy began, but Spike cut her off.
"Innit she bloody brilliant?" he gushed, running a hand lovingly along the rounded front fender. "'57 Chevy Bel Air," he announced, his sparkling eyes glued to the car as Xander struggled to push his door open, his limbs still slightly jellied. "283 V-8, fuel injected, with two four-barrel carburetors. First t' get one horsepower per cubic inch. Was a bloody revelation back in the day! The greatest American engine of the postwar era, and sodding sexy as fuck all."
"Uh..." Buffy stuttered, her brows furrowing as she looked at the car. "Okay."
"And this wanker wants t' load bloody maces and fifty-pound plates in the thing! Use it like a flatbed lory?"
"Um..." Buffy said again, shrugging. "Well, yeah, it's kinda pretty, but it's... just a car."
"Are you all very stoned?" Spike demanded, looking between the two humans. "A '57 Chevy Bel Air! Larkspur blue. The last year o' the tri-five. It's sodding iconic! One o' the most sought after of all vintage autos. Look at the bloody lines o' the thing! Did ya not see the tailfins? The rocket styled hood ornaments? The gold anodized grille? It's... it's..." He sighed, at a loss for words.
"Do you two need a minute alone together?" Buffy teased as Spike continued petting the car, running his fingers over the sleek hood ornaments and the golden Chevrolet emblem.
Spike scowled. "No sodding appreciation for classic beauty," he scoffed derisively.
Buffy grinned and eased up to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "You're a classic beauty, and I appreciate you," she teased, her eyes dancing in the streetlights.
Spike growled, cupping her ass in his hands and tugging her hips against his as he leaned down to kiss her thoroughly.
"Oh, someone kill me now," Xander muttered as he opened the trunk. "Look—there's room in here for several dead bodies. I'm sure the stuff you want to move will fit fine."
When neither Buffy nor Spike seemed to be coming up for air anytime soon, he sighed and rolled his eyes. "So, I guess I'll just get the very heavy boxes and lug them all by myself, even though I'm not the one with super-strength, and it's not my stuff, and I still don't think it's my job, but since I'm the only one here not getting his face sucked off like that dude in Alien, I guess it's up to me."
When there was no sign that the blondes had even heard him, he huffed another put-upon sigh, and did just that.
-X-
Xander was dying.
Not literally. But he kinda wished he was. He'd given the girl a ride earlier mostly just to make Cordy jealous... or something. Not that he cared what Cordy thought of him, of course. She was being an even bigger bitch than ever, not that he didn't deserve it, but still, that was saying something. But now, sitting in the Bronze, jealous-making-girl, who he was pretty sure hadn't made Cordy jealous at all, would not shut up.
"...and then I started seeing Dave Peck. Had a Thunderbird, engine completely tricked out, but the upholstery was kind of shot. So then I started seeing his friend Mike. Not the Mike with the Mercedes. The Mike with the Mustang. An '82 V-6. You know the look."
Maybe he'd accidentally driven through a portal into a hell dimension.
"Spike! Ol' friend, ol' buddy!" Xander exclaimed, catching sight of the radioactive hair moving through the crowd. "Wanna sit and talk? Please..." he begged, waving a hand at the table.
"Was looking for Buffy, thought she said she'd meet me here," Spike explained, though he followed Xander to the table.
"I think she and Willow were studying at the library—something about time Buffy missed with the whole battling evil thing... You can wait with us," Xander offered, stealing a chair from another table. "Do you know... uh..." Oh God, what was her name?
"Lysette," the cute blonde offered, reaching a hand out toward Spike.
"Haven't had the pleasure," Spike replied, shaking her hand.
"You guys have a lot in common," Xander offered. "Spike's really into cars, too."
Lysette's eyes lit up. "Have you seen his Bel Air?" she began to gush. More words followed that Xander assumed were in the strange language of whatever hell dimension this was, and Spike replied with equally incomprehensible words mixed with numbers. Words shouldn't mix with numbers, it was unnatural and possibly illegal in several states.
After an eon or possibly an epoch—who could really tell in these hell dimensions—Lysette excused herself to go to the ladies'. Spike took a drink of his beer and eyed Xander. "Know it's none o' my business, but I'm not keen on her, mate."
"Demon? Tell me she's a demon and you can make with the slaying!" Xander demanded hopefully.
"Not a demon, you dimwit. Don't take a genius t' see she's a gearhead groupie. That car o' yours might get ya laid t'night, but soon as she finds out it ain't yours, I'm thinking that girl will mess you up... or get some o' her gearhead buddies to. But then, sure you can handle it." Spike took another drink as he began to stand up. "Right, then, gonna go find the Slayer."
"Go? GO? You can't go and leave me alone with-with..."
"Lysette," Spike provided, smirking.
"You have to help me. What do I do?" Xander pleaded, leaning over and clamping a hand down on Spike's leather-clad arm.
"Oi! Don't bruise the leather," Spike complained, pulling his arm free.
"Spike, buddy... please help me."
"Buddy, is it? What's in it for me?"
Xander's face scrunched up in thought.
"If you're gonna drop your guts, wish you'd give a bloke some warning so I can stand back."
"I... what...?"
Just then, Lysette returned. "I'm bored. Can we go for another ride?"
Spike met Xander's eyes. Xander gave his best lost puppy look. 'Whatever you want—just help me!'
The vampire rolled his eyes. "Tell ya true, pet, I'm in need of ol' Xander here... got a septic tank needs mucking out. Be happy t' give you a ride home, though," he offered, finishing his beer and setting the bottle on the table.
"Septic mucking—yeah, better get on that before it gets out of hand," Xander added, standing up.
"Don't they have, like, trucks for that? I've seen them..."
Spike took her arm and began guiding her toward the exit. "Yeah, but Harris here is so much better at shoveling shit. Like a callin' for the boy. In his blood."
"Bite me," Xander hissed under his breath, following behind them.
"Prefer my hemoglobin with less fecal matter," Spike taunted, turning back to smirk at him as they neared the door.
Suddenly, their way was blocked by a cadre of vampires sauntering in, led by...
"Willow?" Xander squeaked as he came even with Spike and Lysette.
"Xander! You're alive!" she purred, pulling him to her, hands roaming over his body.
"Hands! Hands in new places!" he exclaimed just as he was jerked back from the vampiress by a strong hand at the back of his shirt.
Vampire-Willow pouted. "You're alive," she realized as Spike stepped between her and the boy.
"Spike... what's going on? You're not alive too, are you?" Vampire-Willow reached out as if to take his temperature, but he snarled, his fangs extending, yellow eyes boring into hers.
"Finally..." Vampire-Willow sighed, leaning into him, her hands sliding down his body, as she nuzzled his neck. "Where is everyone? Where's the Master? I don't like this world. It's all bright and shiny. Too many laughing humans, not enough fear. You'll help me fix it, won't you?"
"Hey! Watch it!" one of the minions warned. He seemed to be her second in command based on when he'd come in and his demeanor. "Spike's changed teams..."
Before the informer could say more, Spike's arm shot out and a stake sailed through the vamp's chest. He fell to dust, the stake clattering against the wall and falling to the floor behind him.
"Anyone else have anything t' say?" Spike challenged, turning to size up the group. They all took a tiny step back, not meeting his eyes. He knew these berks... some of 'em used to work for him. With that one gone, it left seven. Not great odds, especially with all the Happy Meals about. Was pretty sure the Slayer wouldn't want any of them hurt in a brawl. Bugger. He loved a proper brawl.
Vampire-Willow stepped back, looking at Spike curiously. "What does he mean?"
Spike wrapped an arm around Xander's neck and pulled him against his side. "Didn't change teams, luv, just switch-hitting," he explained. "The boy's mine."
"I'm what...?" Xander squeaked, but Spike silenced him with a fervent kiss, holding him in place with one hand as his other slid proprietarily below the boy's belt. Spike swallowed Xander's yip of surprise, but released him with a final squeeze to his nether regions.
When Spike pulled back, Xander was breathless and wide eyed, his mouth moving, stammering out silent protests or perhaps praise.
"Be a luv and fetch my stake for me, will you?" Spike said, tilting his head toward the pile of vamp dust.
Xander swallowed, nodding jerkily, and hastily retreated.
Vampire-Willow was frowning again when Spike turned back to look at her. "But he's... alive," she pointed out with a pout.
Spike hooked his thumbs over his belt and smirked at her. "Never had a bed warmer, pet? All that pumping blood keeps ya hard and hot for hours."
"In my world there are people in chains, and we can ride them like ponies." Her eyes focused on Xander's neck as he returned to Spike, placing the stake in his open palm. "I don't see your mark on him," she pointed out.
Spike's smirk deepened as he raked the end of the stake up Xander's inseam, making him flinch. "Better places than the jugular for a nip."
Vampire-Willow's eyes fell on Lysette. "Is she yours too?" she asked, swaying over to the blonde, who stood frozen in place.
"We're acquainted," Spike admitted, turning to follow the vampiress' trek.
Vampire-Willow took Lysette's trembling hand and trailed her dark nails up the girl's arm, before pulling her around, the blonde's back to her front. The vampire ran her tongue along the girl's neck as one hand slid up the girl's shirt to cup one breast.
"Mistress Willow," one of the minions interrupted, apparently having found his balls. He pointed at Xander and started, "That one's a—" But his words were again cut off by Spike's stake sailing through the air and finding his heart.
"The Mistress is busy!" Spike growled, glaring around at the remaining minions. "Anyone else care t' interrupt?"
The others all took a small step back, shaking their heads. Two of them ducked out the door and fled into the night. Four down, four to go.
"Fetch," Spike ordered Xander, tilting his head at the stake.
Xander glared at him a moment, but when he saw Vampire-Willow giving him a hungry look, he scurried off to obey, returning with the dusty wood and presenting it to Spike, point first.
Spike glared at him. "Have a care, whelp," he warned, curling his tongue around a fang.
"Why do you have a stake?" Vampire-Willow asked suspiciously, reaching for it.
Spike let her take it. He had another, but with four vamps, the more stakes the merrier.
"It has your name on it..." she observed, rolling it between her fingers.
Spike gave her a fangy grin. "M' boy makes 'em for me. Just easier than ripping heads off these idiot minions. Couldn't pour piss from a boot with the instructions written on the heel, this lot. Now, tell me, pet, just where's this place you're from... with all the fear and ponies?"
Vampire-Willow looked up at him. "Home," she sighed longingly as she sniffed Lysette's hair.
"An' you wanna get back there, eh?" Spike suggested.
She nodded mournfully. "This world's no fun."
"Might know a guy... big with the mojo. Bloke named Rack, you know 'im?" Spike asked, reaching in his pocket to retrieve his smokes and lighter. He handed the lighter to Xander then took a fag from the pack and slipped it between his lips, leaning over for Xander to light it for him.
"Yeah... I ate him back home," Evil-Willow admitted. "He tasted like black licorice... but tingly." She scrunched up her nose in disgust, then licked the blonde she was holding again. "You taste like cherries and axle grease."
Xander looked at Lysette, who looked like she was about to faint, then back at Spike. The vampire arched a brow at him, waiting. Xander cleared his throat and opened the lighter, taking three attempts spinning the flint to get it to light. Spike inhaled, catching Xander's eye again before flicking his gaze to another minion just to his right, then down at the flame. As he pulled back from the Zippo, he saw the bulb flicker to life in Xander's brain. Thank bloody god!
"Grab us a bottle o' Jack from the bar, Dumplin'," Spike said to Xander, as he turned back to face Vampire-Willow and Lysette.
Xander spluttered, but finally choked out, "Yes, master," and, with the flame still blazing in the old lighter, the boy turned and touched it to the minion's shirt.
It took a moment, long enough for Xander to step past the oblivious vampire, before all hell broke loose. Flames suddenly engulfed the vamp, who began screaming and flailing around before disintegrating. At the same time, Spike spun and caught another minion with a high kick, sending it flying back into the wall with a hollow thud. His hand dipped into his duster pocket and, as another vamp charged, he slammed his second stake home. Unfortunately, it took his stake with it and Evil-Willow still had the other one.
"Bugger!" he growled as the vampire he'd kicked, a stoner-looking beach bum, and a big redhead charged him. He heard Lysette scream, but couldn't spare time for her as he punched the stoner in the nose, sending him reeling back with a wet, nasally, "Whoa, dude..."
The redhead had to be related to the Viking who Buffy had dusted a few weeks back, a bloody giant whose fist felt like a sledgehammer against Spike's jaw. Stars danced in Spike's vision as he stumbled back, but he caught his balance quickly and charged the giant slab of beef with a roar of fury. Humans were screaming and running, scurrying from their path like frightened mice. Spike had no idea where Xander or Lysette was, or Vampire-Willow, for that matter. Hopefully the blockhead could keep himself from getting eaten for two sodding minutes.
Spike wrapped his arms around the hard-muscled waist of the bigger vamp and lifted enough to take his feet from beneath him, then drove down with all his power, slamming the redhead onto the concrete floor. The big vamp's head sounded like a melon cracking when slammed against the unforgiving floor, but it wasn't enough to stop him. He growled and rolled the lighter vamp over, his fangs snapping madly at Spike's neck and face. The two tumbled over and over, smashing chairs and tables into bits, and spilling half-full glasses of spirits and sodas in their wake. Spike groped for something, anything, to use as a stake, picking up shards of broken table and chair legs, but everything he touched was steel or plastic. 'Sodding Americans and their fucking plastic shite!'
With Spike pinned beneath him, the Viking rained blows down on Spike's face and neck, though the blond blocked most of them with one arm as he continued to scrabble around the floor with the other. Finally, he found a bit of wood... good ol' oak someone had clearly forgotten to trade in for plastic. With a monumental effort and a deafening roar, Spike bucked and rolled, knocking the redhead to the sticky, wet floor again. The jagged end of the broken spindle slammed into the vamp's chest just as the surfer dude jumped on Spike's back and sunk his fangs into his neck.
"Fucking hell!" the Brit exclaimed, bringing the hand with the stake in it up and back over his shoulder, jabbing it into one of the stoner's eyes.
A hair-raising scream filled the club as the vamp lurched back, clutching the shaft of wood that was protruding from his eye socket. Spike rolled on the ground, tangling his legs in the other vamp's as his half-blinded opponent tried to stand up and back away. In another second, Spike had yanked the makeshift stake free with a sickening squelch of blood and eyeball, and silenced the screaming with a jab to the heart.
He fell back onto his ass in the soggy layer of dust coating the floor, panting for unneeded breath, as he looked around to find the whelp and the out-of-place vampiress. The scene that he found wasn't at all what he'd expected. Xander was standing behind Vamp-Willow, a stake pressed to her chest, just over her heart. Lysette, along with every other human in the place, had apparently fled. They were the only three left.
How the bloody hell Harris had managed to get the jump on the vamp, Spike had no idea, but she apparently thought he was serious about staking her if she moved. Spike wasn't so sure that was the case. Spike pushed himself up to his feet, scowling at the sugary grime coating his duster—off to the cleaners, again—and sauntered over to the pair.
"I got her! See? I totally got her!" Xander babbled nervously.
"That's a good little lamb. Get ya a nice lolly t' suck on later," Spike taunted as he drew his fist back and slammed it into Vamp-Willow's jaw, knocking her out.
-X-
"Goddess! I didn't think he'd ever leave," Willow huffed as Giles finally went into his office and closed the door. She turned bright, eager eyes to Buffy, totally forgetting the World History they'd been going over. "So spill! With the world ending and relationship subterfuge, I never got to hear about the sciencing with Spike! Did the maid have to make both beds... or just one?"
Buffy blushed and beamed a glorious smile at her friend. She leaned in, casting a furtive glance in the direction of Giles' office before gushing, "Sooo good! Oh my god, Wills, he's... it was... I mean..." She sighed happily, one hand to her heart as her face glowed with love.
Willow bounced in her seat, waving her hands about in joyful celebration. "Oh, Buffy! I told you! I told you Spike wasn't a poop-head. You should listen to me."
"I totally should, you're my bestest bestie and very wise."
"So, tell me more! I need details, missy!"
"Willow!" Buffy gasped in mock horror. "You naughty girl!"
Willow laughed and smacked her friend on the arm playfully. "About the dinner and the show. Was it good? Did you like it? Where did you eat? What did you have? What about later? Was there dancing? Was there romance? Were there smoochies?" she rambled.
Buffy laughed. She couldn't remember feeling quite so happy dishing the details of her love life with anyone. Of course, her love life hadn't been very dish-worthy of late... perhaps not since Jimmy Stafford had given her her first kiss back in sixth grade, or maybe the hands-and-knees begging of Tyler Burrow back at Hemery... just before Merrick showed up and plopped a destiny in her lap. After that she'd been too busy being all slayery and gym-burn-downy to gush to anyone, even about Pike.
Pike. He would've been totally gushable if all her so-called friends hadn't turned their backs on her like she had leprosy or something. Pike had been the kind of first big crush, mad rush, maybe-even-love thing she had never told anyone about.
Like so many times before, Buffy took a moment to wonder about their spur of the moment trip to Vegas and what might have happened if it hadn't been such an epic failure. If Pike hadn't ended up in the hospital with serious blood loss from an 'animal attack', if she'd been able to protect him from the nest of vampires that had been after her. She'd called his parents and left him there, safely on the mend, kissing him one last time and telling him to forget her, it was for the best. She was better off alone; people weren't safe around her.
Funny how Pike and Spike had nearly the same name, and they were actually the same in some ways, believing in her, building her up, but with one huge difference. Spike would never give up, never give in to her misdirected efforts to push him away for his own good. And, unlike Pike, Spike could take care of himself—her true equal. Though she would always want to protect him, he was perfectly capable of protecting himself, and even protecting her if things went sideways.
After she'd left Pike, she'd taken the bus home and confessed all to her parents... who put her in a mental hospital. For a while she thought that was where she belonged, away from everyone she loved.
But that hadn't lasted either.
She'd never told anyone about that hospital or how much it had hurt her to leave Pike, but now, when she thought about it, she was glad things had happened the way they did. Now she had Spike and very gushable things to dish with her amazing BFF.
Buffy refocused on her friend, her smile returning. "First, he made mix tapes for the trip… which you already knew because you helped him!" The Slayer swatted her friend on the arm lightly as Willow beamed in satisfaction. "We karaoked, like, all the way," Buffy continued. "Then there were the most amazing hamburgers at this super fancy restaurant—wait! There were amazing burgers at this hole-in-the-wall place first. I totally thought Spike was lost, but he wasn't, but we got these great burgers and we ate them under the bridge... the Golden Gate—and we danced under the stars, sooo romantic—it was epic! But then, the next night, we went to this super fancy French restaurant where Spike fed me snails and I actually liked them! The French people eat really small food, did you know that? I guess that's why they're all so slim. But the pièce de grâce was this hamburger that was as big as my face! And French fries. Do French people call them 'French fries', or would they just be 'fries'... or like 'our fries'? Anyway, it was amazing! And the dessert was… oh my god, Willow, it was the best thing I'd ever tasted… well, until later…" Buffy giggled as she watched her friend's face color begin to rival her hair. "Then..."
Buffy and Willow looked up from their whispering giggles when the doors to the library slammed open and Spike stormed in carrying a girl in leather pants on his shoulder. Xander was dancing around him, babbling about helping, and did he see that vamp he dusted, and he totally took Willow by surprise, being all lovey-dovey and neck kissy, and offering to be her bed warmer buddy. Then, bam! Stake at the heart!
Spike dropped his bundle on the table as Willow and Buffy jumped to their feet.
"Goddess!" Willow exclaimed, her eyes wide.
"What the hell?" Buffy added, looking from the unconscious, leather-clad Willow to the fuzzy-sweater Willow, and then to Spike.
"Seem t' have a visitor from another world or whatnot," Spike explained, digging out his fags, but not finding his lighter. He slid his hand into Xander's pocket, making the boy squeal.
"Hands! Bad hands!"
Spike smirked, pulling the lighter out and showing him. "Not after your naughty bits, Dumplin'. Just need t' get the taste o' Harris outta my mouth."
"Be kind, rewind," Buffy requested, shaking her head, and looking at the two men. "Why do you have the taste of Xander in your mouth... and why was he kissing vampy-Willow's neck? And... most importantly, why is there a vampy-Willow in the first place?"
The two guys started explaining in a disjointed story, their voices overlapping and interrupting.
"I dusted a vamp with a lighter!"
"Bloody bugger was bigger than that Viking you dusted."
"Spike kissed me!"
"T' save your miserable life!"
"I think I'd rather die."
"Oh, you loved it!"
"Totally did not!"
"That boner you got says otherwise."
"That wasn't... there wasn't any... that's just my natural state."
"Oh, pu-lease!"
"I totally fooled Evil-Willow... she was way into me."
"Says they ride humans like ponies where she's from. Master's still about."
"I'm a badass vampire in her world."
"Dunno how she got here."
"I do," Willow finally interrupted their rambling story. When everyone looked at her, she bit her lip and took a step back, wringing her hands. "I... I mean, I think, maybe I might know."
By now, Giles had come out of the office and was listening as well. "Willow, what did you do?"
She jumped. "It wasn't me... it wasn't my idea! I... she said it was to find a lost necklace, but then I had these... visions of... well, I'm not sure what of, but it was scary."
"Who is 'she'?" Giles persisted.
"That Anya girl... you know the one?" she asked, looking at Buffy. "She was at the Bronze on your birth... on National Hot Chocolate Day... night. Spike bought her beer and we talked to her for a while..." she reminded Xander.
They all nodded.
"The squirrely one," Spike added.
"She's not that bad," Xander defended. "She's..."
Spike arched a brow at him.
"Okay, she's a little odd, but you're one to talk, Mr. Century with a Crazy Woman."
"Be that as it may," Giles interjected before the argument could escalate. "Where do we find this... Anya person?"
They all shook their heads.
"Very well. Willow, please check the school records and see if you can get a home address for her," Giles suggested. "Spike, if you would be so kind as to deposit our visitor in the book cage in case she awakens?"
"I've got it," Buffy volunteered, giving Spike the evil eye. "Your hand seemed way too happy on her ass."
Spike looked shocked and aghast. "Slayer! My hand never touched her arse."
"Which is why you moved it just as you came in," she countered with an eye roll, picking Vamp-Willow up and taking her to the cage while her pink-sweater clad friend blushed again and couldn't quite seem to look at Spike.
Xander hurried in front of her and opened the door. "Did you hear the part about me dusting a vamp with a lighter?" he asked as Buffy put the vampire down.
"Was my sodding lighter and my idea!" Spike exclaimed. "Fuck's sake... you dusted one measly vamp and you'd think you'd saved the bloody world. I beat off the rest of 'em!"
Everyone looked at him curiously, a barely hidden grin curving Buffy's lips. "Beat them off, huh?"
"Oh, get yer minds outta the gutter, the lot of you."
"But you saved Xander by kissing him?" Buffy teased, leaning in close to him, her hands on his chest, her doe eyes peering up at him. "Should I be worried?"
Spike rolled his eyes.
"Was there tongue involved?" she pressed.
"No! No tongue!" Xander exclaimed, closing and locking the book cage. "Not even a little... none at all."
Spike smirked and wagged his brows at Buffy. "He just slipped a bit in... tasted like fruit rollups."
"That was not... I did not..." Xander spluttered. "Can we stop talking about this? Did I mention that I dusted a vamp with a lighter?"
-X-
By the time they'd found Anya and gotten the story from her, prepared the spell and sent Evil-Willow back to her own world, the gang was feeling a bit melancholy.
"Some of Mrs. Summers' hot cocoa would be really good right now," Xander suggested.
"It's really late," Buffy pointed out. "Really, really late," she amended, looking at the clock.
"It would be quite a comfort," Giles agreed with Xander, ignoring Buffy.
Willow nodded her agreement too. Buffy had to admit she wouldn't mind a bit of motherly comfort herself after hearing about this other world where she hadn't shown up in Sunnydale, where her best friends were vampires. And why hadn't Kendra or Faith at least shown up at some point? Or had they and the Master had killed them? Or maybe Buffy had never died in the other world, so there was still just her... the one girl in all the world. No one had mentioned it one way or the other.
"Call Mom and warn her," Buffy said to Spike.
"The donut shop has everything at half-price this time of night," Xander offered as they all began walking for the door. "Usually it's just the gross ones, like bran muffins and those yellow smiley-face ones, but sometimes there's a Boston or a black-currant jelly to be found..." He shrugged, looking at the others to see their reactions.
"See if Mom has anything edible to go with the cocoa," Buffy instructed Spike as he was dialing.
-X-
"I feel so badly for her," Joyce concluded after she'd heard the story. Everyone was gathered around the dining room table, finishing their cocoa and slices of buttery, pan-fried poundcake—all crunchy brown on the outside and soft and moist on the inside.
"Evil me?" Willow asked.
"No... well, yes, of course, her too, but that Buffy." She looked at her daughter, reaching out to lay a hand on her shoulder. "I wonder what might've happened to her? Where was her mother? What would've happened to keep them away?" She gave Buffy a worried, sympathetic look. "It hurts my heart to think of her being so alone. Is there any way we could... help her?"
Giles shook his head. "She's been on this path for quite some years; it would mean not only sending someone to this other world, but also traveling back in time to avert whatever the impetus of the change was, and we have no idea exactly when that change occurred. Time travel is... well, something best left to the Gods and Higher Beings. Even if we could achieve it, then it would be to get the person back. And there is always the danger that something catastrophic could happen in this other world. It would be ill-advised, I'm afraid."
Joyce nodded forlornly as she looked up at the group around the table. "I'm so glad we have you all in our lives... in Buffy's life. I can't tell you how much it means..." Her throat tightened and she blinked back tears, dabbing at the corner of her eyes with her napkin. "Sorry, I..."
"Oh, Mom..." Buffy sighed, taking her hand. "It's okay... we're all okay."
The room grew silent, the air heavy with gloom, everyone studying their plates.
Xander, as usual, was the first to try and lighten it. "Did I mention that I dusted a vampire—"
"WITH A LIGHTER," the entire table chorused with him.
He shrugged and gave them all a goofy smile. "Spike was the real hero, though," he admitted, looking over at the rather surprised vamp. "He knew it wasn't Willow right off... I mean, not our Willow. How did you know that?"
Spike sat back in his chair and touched his nose. "Didn't smell right... not just because o' being a vamp, were odors on her that..." He looked uncomfortably at Joyce, then shrugged. "Just weren't right."
"It really was pretty amazing how fast he adjusted and came up with a plan. Not a great plan!" Xander hastened to add, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, as if wiping the kiss away. "But a plan..."
"All my plans are bloody brilliant," Spike insisted with a smirk. "Could'a been worse, could'a bitten your sorry arse. Bet your sodding blood tastes like fruit rollups too. Is that all you eat, Dumplin'?"
"Dumpling?" Buffy giggled.
"Don't call me that!" Xander huffed, pointing a warning finger at Spike.
"Jelly Belly? Muffin? Lamb Chop? Snookie Bear? Tatter Tot?" Spike taunted, curling his tongue over his teeth. "My little bed warmer."
"In your dreams," Xander grumbled.
Spike's grin widened. "Think we know who'll be dreaming 'bout who tonight."
Giles cleared his throat. "Be that as it may, it was quite fast thinking. Quite remarkable that you were able to keep all the humans safe, as well, by keeping the vampires focused on you."
Spike shrugged as if the compliment didn't swell him with pride, especially when the Watcher's words were reflected in Buffy's glowing expression. "I'm sodding good at being the center of attention."
"You?" "No!" "Never!" Everyone gasped as if shocked by this admission.
"Oh, sod off," Spike grumped, glaring at the table as a whole.
Buffy grinned, teasing, "If renovation costs get out of control, you could hire yourself out as an attraction."
"Who'd pay to see him?" Xander wondered.
Spike smirked. "Know you'd be my best customer, dumplin'. Too bad ya can't afford me."
Xander scoffed. "Pretty sure I could just let you drive the Bel Air and I'd get the VIP package."
The vampire wagged his brows, letting his eyes drift down to focus on the boy's lips. "Think you could handle my package, snookums?"
"That's not… I just meant… Not… argh!" Xander spluttered as everyone laughed.
With the mood lightened, everyone started eating again, finishing up their comfort food.
When everyone stood and started edging for the door, Xander made a point of hanging back from Giles and Willow. He turned to Spike and extended a hand to shake. "Seriously. Thanks. If you hadn't been there..." He shrugged uncomfortably. "Well, anyway, thanks."
Spike looked at his hand, considering joking it off... grabbing the boy's danglies or planting a hard kiss on his fruit rollup lips, but in the end, he gave a serious nod and shook Xander's hand. "No worries. Got your back, Dumplin'."
"Good to know, Pookie Bear," Xander replied. "Just don't forget who dusted a vamp with a lighter."
Spike chuckled and released the boy's hand. "Relatively sure you'll never let anyone forget."
"It was epic," Xander pointed out as he turned and joined Willow and Giles on the porch, pulling his car keys from his pocket.
They all thanked Joyce for the mood-lifting comfort food and heartening gathering place, then were piling into the Bel Air and heading off.
"Sorry about that," Buffy apologized as they closed the door. "I know it's super with the lateness and—"
Joyce pulled Buffy into a tight hug. "I'm happy to do it. Happy to know you have such wonderful friends, and happy that you feel like this is where you all want to come when you're feeling out of sorts. There's nothing a mom loves more than to be able to offer a safe, happy place for her child."
Buffy hugged her back, not too tightly, breathing in the scent of her—comfort, reassurance, and tenderness all wrapped up in a hint of honeysuckle and vanilla. She wondered how long it had been since the Buffy from Evil-Willow's world had gotten a hug from anyone, let alone her mom. It made her heart hurt for her, but also filled her with gratitude for what she had. For everything, and everyone she had in her life.
-X-
Buffy was waiting for Spike when he emerged from the bathroom, steam following him out into the hallway. She was leaning against the door to her room in one of her baggy, flannel PJ sets, the pink ones with Hello Kitty faces emblazoned all over them, making her look younger than her eighteen years. His girl had so much pressure to be everything to everyone. All he wanted to do was scoop her up in his arms and shield her from the monsters, real and imagined. She was the strongest woman he'd ever known, but seeing her standing in front of him in her girly pajamas, looking up at him with her wide green eyes made him silently pledge once again to protect her 'til the end of the world.
"Could you sleep in here tonight?" she asked quietly.
Spike arched a brow at her, looking toward the stairs where he could hear Joyce coming up. She'd told them to go on and get ready for bed, that she'd clear up the dishes—they were tired, she wasn't.
"Just... just hold me?" Buffy added, not knowing her mom was now just a couple of steps from the top of the stairs. "I'm feeling all..." She squirmed, wiggling as if her skin were too tight. "I just need you to hold me," she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself.
Spike caught Joyce's eye and she gave him a solemn nod from where she'd stopped, out of Buffy's view.
"Sure, pet," he agreed, heading for his room. "Just let me get something t' sleep in." He waved a hand at the towel slung low around his waist. "Don't reckon your mum would consider this within the rules."
Buffy smiled and nodded. "Thanks."
The sweatpants Joyce had bought him were finally coming in handy. Grey or black? He went with the black ones, less likely t' show the stain of precum that would undoubtedly dampen them before long.
Buffy was already in bed when he got back, and he slid in next to her, pulling the cover over them both. God, she was sodding heaven, so warm, so soft, so perfect. She curled up against his side, her head on his shoulder, one leg draped over his.
"Want t' talk about it?" he asked, drawing random designs over her flannel-covered shoulder.
"I was thinking about things that might've happened to her... that other Buffy."
"Yeah? Have some theories, do you?"
"Did I ever tell you about Pike?"
Spike lifted slightly, one brow arched, as he looked down at her curiously. "The fish?"
She snorted a small laugh. "No, this boy at Hemery... he... well, I really liked him a lot and he even knew what I was. He was one of the few people who stood with me after I... after I was Called. We... left together. After... after my first Watcher died and I burned down the school gym—to kill all the vampires in it," she clarified. "We went to Vegas, but I guess demon news travels fast, because I was recognized, and we were attacked, and... and Pike was hurt pretty badly. I ended up leaving him when he was in the hospital, after I knew he'd be okay. I couldn't protect him, I had to go, to keep him safe..."
"So, this is a bit of a theme, eh?"
She sighed, her fingers unconsciously mimicking Spike's, tracing warmth over his bare chest. "Yeah... the difference is, he didn't try to find me—not that I know of anyway. But, the point is—what if he'd died? I'm not sure what I would've done then. I probably wouldn't have gone back home. It's hard to guess, you know? Unless you're there in the situation, but... that could've done it.
"O-or, what if I'd gone home and the vamps followed and killed my mom... or both of my parents? Faith's right... I do live a fairytale. I could've been her... I could've turned out to be hard and cold and..."
"Shhhh..." Spike soothed, touching a kiss into her hair. "Don't believe that for a moment, pet. Might've put up walls... tall, strong walls, but the love and warmth you've got inside, it'd still be there. Can't snuff that glow, pet, don't care what the world puts you through. It'd be there, it's who you are, your soul's too beautiful to ever turn black."
Buffy shook her head against him, her tears warm and wet against his skin. "I'm not so sure."
"I'm sure enough for the both of us."
"Thank you for saving Xander," she whispered, sniffling.
"The git's not finished setting the house to rights yet," Spike explained.
Buffy blew out a soft snort and raised up, turning to meet his eyes in the moonlight that filtered through the cracks in the blinds. "You like him."
"I bloody well do not."
"Uh-huh... you're like... like Felix and the other one... the odd couply guys."
"Oscar," Spike provided automatically.
"You drive each other crazy, but you secretly like each other."
"Bollocks."
Buffy smiled softly and touched a kiss to his lips. "Okay, Pookie Bear... whatever you say."
Spike rolled his eyes. "Don't get cheeky."
Buffy's expression turned serious again. "You'll stay and protect them, right? If anything happens to me?"
"Nothing's gonna..."
"But if it does... you'll stay? Promise me?"
Spike rolled his eyes away from hers, the intensity of her gaze burning straight to his heart. He swallowed and forced his eyes back to hers, feeling the fiery glow of her soul pour into him. "'Course... promise, pet."
She nodded and settled down against him again. "Thank you."
"Anything for you, Buffy. Should know that by now."
She nodded, her hair tickling over his shoulder and neck, silken strands of sunshine against his skin. "I love you."
"Love you too, pet. Love you with all I am," he vowed, lifting his hand to curl in her hair, stroking the luxuriant locks, spun gold between his fingers.
"One other thing..."
"Yeah?"
"Don't kiss Xander anymore... it's wigsome."
Spike chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest beneath her ear. "Gladly make any sacrifice for you, luv."
"My Prince Charming," Buffy sighed, her body relaxing by degrees, melding against his as mental and emotional exhaustion began to overtake her.
"My Queen," Spike murmured before a thrumming purr began to vibrate his chest, pulling Buffy the rest of the way under into contented dreams.
-X-
Spike hadn't exactly been sleeping when Buffy's hand slid down his chest, over his abs, beneath the elastic of the sweats, and wrapped around his aching cock some hours later. Sleep had been impossible with her in his arms and his dick thinking it should be inside her, being squeezed and milked, filling her, marking her as his, over and over as the moonlight glinted off her hair and bathed her skin in silver radiance. Still, his entire body came fully awake when she'd cupped his balls and gave his cock a pump beneath the covers and the moan that slipped from him was downright sinful.
He could feel a slow smile spread over her face, the cheek resting against his shoulder bulging with a Cheshire grin. In silence, Buffy slid the stained sweats off his hips, and his cock sprang free beneath the sheets.
"I dreamed of you," she whispered, wriggling out of her own sleepwear, kicking the flannel off her legs, leaving it in a ball beneath the covers.
"Did you now?" Spike murmured back. Her arousal hit him full force when she shifted, allowing the delicious aroma of her to swirl up from beneath the blanket and flow into his lungs like pure ambrosia.
"Mmmhmm..." she agreed as she slid atop him, trapping his cock between them as she raked her wet pussy over his length. "I need you... is that okay?"
"Always," Spike purred as she lifted up over him and he guided his cock to her slick opening. "I'm yours."
Tingling shivers flowed over them both as she sunk down on his length, her supple walls molding around his girth, velvety and strong, hot and wet, and their low moans of contentment mingled together in the silence of the night.
"What did I do in this dream o' yours?" Spike whispered to her as her hips met his, engulfing his eager cock in her molten depths.
"Filled me... held me... rolled with me like waves on a calm sea, swelling and dipping, until we both drowned in heaven."
"Sounds brilliant."
Spike's hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples as she leaned down and kissed him, their hips undulating, moving as one in a gentle, rolling dance. Soft skin was caressed and kissed, breathy moans of love and pleasure drifted from their lips, and still they danced, floating unhurriedly over a tranquil sea, the warmth and love lapping at their hearts and bodies like loving comfort.
There were no screams or growls or expletive exclamations as they came together, but it was no less perfect for the gentleness of it. Tiny waves of pleasure rolled over them as they rocked together, seeming to last a lifetime, overflowing their hearts with a wellspring of joy.
Buffy collapsed against Spike, her hair a silken veil over his skin, her breasts hot and glorious pressed into his cool chest, her heart thudding against his, seeming to give him life, her breath a warm breeze across his neck.
"Love you, love you so much..." she panted quietly as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her to him, his cock still buried in her sweet quim as their juices slipped from her, coating his balls, and pooling on the bed beneath.
He'd just taken a breath to reply when there was a sharp knock on the door and, without waiting for a reply, her mother came in.
Buffy gasped out an indignant, "MOM!" as she sat up, only to remember her nakedness, and grab at the covers, clutching them around herself, cloaking the place her body was joined with Spike's and covering her breasts.
In the dark, Joyce held up a hand, ducking her head and pointedly not looking at her daughter or anywhere near the bed. "There was a jealous asshole of a vampire outside my window, letting me know my daughter was... having relations with a soulless demon at that very moment," she explained, hurrying to the window.
"WHAT?" Buffy and Spike both exclaimed at once.
Joyce parted the blinds with her fingers and looked out onto the roof, shaking her head. Seeing nothing, she checked the window lock, making sure it was secure, then turned the plastic rod, tightening the blinds, closing them fully, and pulled the curtain closed for good measure. "He's gone now... I don't think he quite got the reaction from me that he was hoping for," she explained, turning back around and heading for the door, still keeping her eyes firmly averted from the bed.
"I'll bloody kill 'im," Spike growled.
"Not tonight, you won't," Joyce informed him, looking out the door into the hall, her back to them. "Tonight, you're going to show my girl how much she's loved. And, if you want my advice, I'd say ignoring him would be the best punishment. He couldn't break you up, so now he's trying to get me to do it. He'll probably appeal to Giles for help at some point. Don't give him the satisfaction of even noticing him. Narcissists hate it when you do that."
She reached back and grabbed the door handle and began pulling it closed as she stepped out into the hall. "Goodnight," she said just as the door clicked closed.
Buffy turned to look at Spike, her eyes wide, her face flaming, still clutching the covers to her chest. "I can't believe..." she began, then shook her head. "Angel! My mom! Just kill me now."
"Bugger that... Mum didn't even look at us... not that she didn't know what was going on even 'fore she came in here."
"Oh god," Buffy groaned, covering her face with one hand, not letting go of the sheet. "W-what should we do?"
Spike smirked up at her, gently loosening her death grip from the cover, one finger at a time, and pushed it away. "Think we best do what the lady says, luv. Let me show you how much I love you," he suggested, turning them over so he was on top. "And I say we start now, 'cos that could take a while."
All of Buffy's embarrassment and anger and shock and... and a hundred other emotions came out as a half-hysterical laugh, but her body knew this dance too well to let any of that get in the way. She wrapped around him, legs and arms, cradling his slim hips between her thighs.
"You okay, luv?"
Buffy shook her head negatively, but said, "Yes... I'll just never be able to look my mom in the eye again."
Spike chuckled. "Not like she didn't know, pet. Nothing's changed."
She groaned. "Moms are not supposed to know these things... and should especially never see these things."
More laughter from the vampire as he slid his cock back into her, slowly opening her, filling her again. "Mums know everything, pet... and they know best. Let me show you."
Buffy's moan of pleasure as he pressed inside quieted all her worries, reducing her world to this, to them, their bodies, their hearts, their love, and the sinfully rich timbre of his voice as he professed his love again and again.
Maybe mothers really did know best.
-X-
Chapter End Notes:
Thanks so much to MissLuci for suggesting that Spike and Xander bond over Uncle Rory's car. It worked perfectly! Also thanks to MissLuci for filling me in on Pike, as I have yet to watch the original Buffy movie.
In automobile parlance, Tri-Five refers to the 1955, 1956 and 1957 Chevrolet automobiles, in particular, the 150, 210, Bel Air, and Nomad.