A groan escaped Buffy's lips as she slowly resurfaced out of a deep sleep, rolling over just in time to watch Spike slip in through the bedroom door. "Hey, you. Everything alright?" she asked groggily.

"Course it is. Girls are adjusting nicely to Daddy handling the night shift. What're you doing awake anyway?"

She twisted, stretching her back. "I think it's just my natural slayer-y sleep schedule starting to come back online now that I'm pretty much with the healed."

"Like the sound of that," he said, stripping off his clothes and slipping into bed next to her. "I'll take patrol with you over the bot any day."

She let herself appreciate his lean form for a moment as he laid back against his pillow. "She hasn't asked you to ravage her lately, has she?" Buffy giggled as she settled into his side, letting him pull her close enough to rest her head on his shoulder.

"No, thank God," he chuckled. "Thing hasn't been all that bad since Red's last go at her circuits. Think she might have it all sorted now. Officially gave her a new name too."

She furrowed her brow, tilting her face up toward him. "Oh yeah?"

"Calling her Tina."

The corner of Buffy's mouth ticked up. "And did that have anything to do with this 'Twilight Zone' rerun kick you've been on?"

"Might've called her 'Talking Tina' a time or two," he replied with a smirk as he ran a hand up and down Buffy's arm draped over his chest.

Buffy wrapped her top leg between Spike's legs, letting his cool skin absorb some of her body heat trapped under the sheet. It was bound to be another hot day and having their bodies pressed against one another, even with the barrier of her sleep shorts and tank top, was a welcome sensation, like wading into a cool stream on a hot day. "I can't believe Willow agreed to name her after some creepy killer doll."

"Ah— yeah about that… It was sort of the bot's doing. Seems to have latched onto the name," Spike answered sheepishly.

Buffy rolled her eyes, drawing idle patterns on his chest with a fingertip. "A likely story. You know… speaking of names— we really should get the invitations printed. My vote is for: 'Buffy Summers and William Pratt'," she recited grinning up at him. "Way better than 'William the Bloody', right?"

Spike huffed. "Bloody hell… yeah suppose so, and what about you? You still thinking 'bout hyphenating to match the girls?"

"That's the plan. Correct me if I'm wrong, but you seem like you could still use some convincing Mr. Pratt," she smirked, running her fingers down his stomach to tangle in his dark curls before stroking his length with her palm.

Spike inhaled sharply, letting his head fall back and eyes close as she began to work him up and down with firm pressure. "Think I'm starting to come round to the idea."

"And here I was hoping for a little more of a fight, but okay, that's cool," she chirped happily, removing her hand from his stiffened member and making a move to shift away from him playfully.

Spike's eyes flew open as he dragged her back down, pinning her to the bed beneath him with one hand holding both of her wrists above her head. "That right, Goldilocks? If it's a fight you want, I can oblige," he growled, tickling her mercilessly with his free hand.

Buffy squealed with laughter as she twisted to free one hand from his grasp, tickling his side just below his ribs, making him squirm on top of her in a way she had been missing.

She was desperate for his touch, but a slight twinge from within her core served as a warning that her body wasn't quite ready for him in the way she wanted, at only two weeks postpartum. Even with slayer healing she guessed she might need at least another week. But it didn't mean she couldn't have any fun, did it?

As though he could read her mind, his eyes locked with hers as he relented. "Too much, too soon, Luv?"

She snaked her hand up his back to grip his shoulder. "Not for everything," she grinned, shifting to kneel at his side.

"What do you have rolling in that head of yours?" he drawled.

"Maybe a little 'Daddy Appreciation'?" Buffy raked her nails down his chest making him growl.

"Hardly think that's necessary, you're still doin' most of the work. I'm just letting you get some shuteye," he argued.

Buffy smiled. "Yeah, and that is seriously deserving of some appreciation."

Spike lifted his head, the cords of his neck straining as he caught her lips in a hard kiss. Buffy gasped as his tongue begged for entrance, twisting around in a way that sent a thrill from the back of her throat cascading down through her core and resulting in another twinge of discomfort. She pulled out of the kiss, unwilling to push herself further at this time. Instead, she began trailing open-mouthed kisses down his throat pausing near his collarbone to plant a biting kiss on a particularly sensitive patch of skin. She sucked a little harder as she continued to soothe the skin between her teeth with her tongue.

Spike twisted his fingers into her hair, his hips bucking with the sensation of Buffy's mouth on him. She brought her free hand down to anchor herself on his hip, letting her fingers dig into the taught muscle there. "Bloody hell, you're a wicked girl," Spike gasped in appreciation.

Buffy smiled as she carefully shifted herself further down to lie down between his legs as comfortably as possible. She placed her hand on his cock holding it against his stomach, delivering kisses to his inner thigh, working her way inward before licking a line up his shaft.

Spike inhaled deeply in anticipation of feeling the heat of her mouth around him and she giggled, switching tactics and leaving gentle sucking bites down the underside of his shaft, taking time to appreciate him with her tongue. Spike's hands slipped back into her hair with a groan. "Such a tease— God, I love you, Buffy— the things you do— that mouth…" he rasped, letting his grip on her hair tighten slightly as she teased his tip with her tongue while pumping him with her hand.

She gazed up at him, watching his face as she brought him closer to the edge. Her core tensed with both pain and pleasure just from watching him. Buffy opened her jaw wide, taking him in as far as she could, relaxing the back of her throat to accommodate his length as much as possible before taking a breath through her nose and using her throat muscles to take him deeper. She brought a hand to his scrotum, finding a smooth spot toward the back, and used her thumb to caress it with firm pressure.

"Buffy— shit, that's— gonna—" he burbled incoherently, his hands gripping her hair tightly.

His thighs shook and she felt the swell of his cock press against her tongue and throat as he came with a jerk, spilling down her throat. Buffy swallowed, milking him for every last drop before his grip on her hair finally slackened. He released her as she let his still-hard cock fall from her mouth with a hum.

Spike made an effort to focus his eyes on her, pulling her up gently to rest on his chest, wrapping his arms around her. "Well, you certainly know how to make a bloke feel appreciated. Just wish you were feeling better so I could return the favor."

Buffy readjusted herself, hooking her ankle around his shin. "Right now I'm thinking sleepy snuggles before the girls wake up again sounds just about perfect."

"Easier done than said, beautiful," he smirked tiredly, the two of them settling into sleep.

(*)

"That's it, you've almost got it now," Giles said encouragingly as he stood in front of Ethan watching him as he attempted to pull himself up using a rented walker. Giles held the walker steady as Ethan struggled a few more seconds before collapsing back down to the couch with a huff.

"I suppose you're enjoying this," Ethan replied.

"I wouldn't say that," Giles answered, handing Ethan his glass of water he'd left on the table. "I know you hate this daft contraption—" he said, gesturing to the walker, "—but it's necessary as part of your physical recovery."

Ethan watched him as he drained his water glass, handing it back to him. "Perhaps if I had some sort of an incentive I could be motivated."

Giles smirked at that. "And perhaps I do have something in mind but you're just going to have to get up here on your own to find out."

Ethan snorted a laugh, the muscles in his arms strained as he pulled himself back up to try again, looking up at Giles. "If it's not this torture you call physical therapy that you enjoy, then maybe it's just this invalid and caregiver dynamic, you naughty thing, Ripper."

"Says the invalid making all of the rather obvious advances," Giles countered as Ethan positioned his feet, slowly pulling himself up to stand with effort.

Ethan clenched his jaw as he adjusted his grip on the walker and met Giles' gaze, breathing hard. The sudden proximity made Giles' skin tingle with warmth.

Ethan grinned. "Seems I've done it, now what are you—"

Giles cut him off with a kiss, wrapping an arm around him awkwardly with the walker between them, still supporting the majority of Ethan's weight. Giles used his free hand to grip Ethan's shoulder, deepening the kiss until Ethan started to sag against him. Giles pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against his. "I think you should rest, we'll try a bit more later."

Ethan nodded, adjusting his grip on the walker again before letting Giles help him back down to the couch. "With continued incentives like that, I'll have my strength back in no time at all."

Giles ran a hand through his hair a little bashfully as he straightened up. "I'll make tea…" he murmured distractedly as he turned away toward the kitchen.

Ethan sat back, a little stunned. They had been playing what best resembled a game of emotional hide-n-seek since their first kiss the previous week. He rotated his neck in an attempt to release some of the pressure that gathered there every time Giles pulled away, he couldn't wait until his strength returned. He wasn't a particularly patient man and the small tender moments they had shared were doing very little to cut the tension mounting between them.

Within a few minutes, Giles came back in with a tray laden with tea for two. "I think we need to have a talk," he said, setting the tray down on the coffee table.

Ethan sat up, leaning forward a little to accept a cup from him. "I couldn't agree more."

Giles sat on the edge of the couch next to him, taking a moment to pour himself some tea. "I'm sorry about just now, I don't know what came over me. This is all still so new and—"

"Bollocks, it's not new and that's what scares you isn't it? Because it all went wrong before, but I haven't any intention of going back to that. Not that I could. You rather made sure of that I think," Ethan stated matter of factly.

Giles shifted himself to face Ethan better, sitting sideways with one leg crossed in front of him. "That is part of it, yes of course, but you must also realize that I've never been in a relationship that hasn't ended badly after a relatively short time. In all honesty, our relationship is easily one of the longest I've ever managed to keep going."

Ethan examined him as he spoke, taking a sip of his tea before answering. "I'm not surprised, you've always been a bit—"

"I'm being serious. Not that I've had a revolving door of lovers but every one of them has either been scared off by the supernatural or— or worse," Giles finished darkly, staring into his cup.

"You've lost someone."

Giles nodded, thinking of Jenny's murder and the unanswered 'what ifs' that had haunted him since Joyce's untimely death. "The last few years haven't been particularly kind."

Ethan chuckled into his teacup. "And you're afraid I won't understand? I've spent the better part of the last twenty years as a professional Warlock drifting from one seedy hotel to another. I haven't exactly been in anything even resembling a serious relationship since you. A regularly revolving door you could say; until the government got a hold of me."

"Smashing. Perhaps I should have you tested for rabies," Giles snorted and set down his cup.

Ethan laughed. "I assure you, I'm in perfect health. The one thing I can say about the place they had me in and all their poking and prodding, is that aside from a little arthritis, I'm in rather good shape. All things considered," he finished gesturing to the walker and relaxing back into his seat. He took Giles' hand in his, running his thumb over his knuckles.

Giles rested his head in his free hand, leaning with his elbow against the back of the couch. "What a fine pair we make."

"Well of course we are, it's why I'm here after all," Ethan laughed heartily.

"Even though I've gone from throwing you out and telling you a relationship was impossible, to having you living on my couch and stealing kisses whenever the mood strikes?"

"Precisely," Ethan chuckled. "Love makes people do some utterly ridiculous things. It would be foolish to think we were immune to its particular brand of chaos."

Ethan's easy use of the word "love" struck Giles in a way he hadn't expected, making his heart rate increase. "I can't say I've ever looked at it from that perspective."

"Not surprising. I imagine it's a bit like looking through a kaleidoscope for you," Ethan teased, leaning in closer.

Giles shifted forward to meet him the rest of the way, brushing his lips with a kiss, letting his arm drop from the back of the couch to rest low on Ethan's waist. In response, Ethan adjusted his grip on his hand, lacing their fingers together as the kiss intensified and he ran his free hand up Giles's inner thigh. Giles gave him a low grunt of warning before he had a chance to feel the bulge straining his pants. He wasn't sure if his self-restraint would hold if they crossed that line and yet as though his body were working independently, he found himself shifting forward, pressing Ethan back to lie on the couch.

Using their joined hands as leverage, Ethan pulled him down, throwing off Giles' balance as he knocked over the walker and jostled the tea tray. "Steady, mate," Ethan purred, bringing his thigh between Giles' legs, teasing his cock trapped within his trousers.

Giles groaned into another kiss, hips grinding against the friction Ethan's leg provided, his hand gliding under Ethan's shirt to feel his lithe frame underneath as he explored Ethan's mouth with his tongue. Ethan arched into him, breaking the kiss and moving his mouth to Giles' ear, nipping gently, eliciting a deep moan.

"Gods yes, that's delicious. I've missed you— oh, how I've missed you, Ripper…" Ethan breathed into his ear.

A shiver ran down Giles' spine, stealing his movement and he pulled back with a startled jerk. "Ethan—"

"I've said something wrong, haven't I?" he asked, eyeing him with concern.

Giles dipped his head against Ethan's, rocking it slowly. "No, not— not exactly… I just don't think I'm ready yet. You want it to be as we were and I just—"

"Is that what I want? Are you sure about that?"

Giles pursed his lips, shifting his arms under Ethan's shoulders to rest his weight on his elbows. "Isn't it?"

"It might've been the original idea, but I've had a bit of a breakthrough with our lovely phantom psychiatrist," Ethan replied, snaking a hand up to Giles' nape. "This little slice of semi-mundane, domestic bliss you've managed to cobble together is surprisingly refreshing."

"I think it's only fair to point out that it isn't normally so quiet here on the Hellmouth."

"Surely you jest," Ethan smirked sarcastically. "Now, if you're finished trying to kill the mood, I believe we were in the middle of something, Ripper," he murmured, pulling Giles back into a kiss, teasing his mouth with his tongue as he ran the fingers of his free hand under Giles' shirt along his spine.

Giles felt himself ease into the kiss and gripped Ethan's shoulders pressing himself into him, letting their tongues dance. Ethan tilted his hips pushing his own rather obvious desire against Giles' hip. He continued to ruck Giles' shirt up, letting his hands skim across his back and sides until he was finally able to force the shirt up over his head. Ethan barely paused to take in the planes of his chest before pulling him back down and planting kisses along Giles's throat and down his shoulder. Giles arched into his touch, grinding his erection against his thigh in search of some sort of relief—

When the phone rang.

Giles pulled away, trying not to trip over Ethan's walker as he scrambled for the phone, swearing under his breath as he went. He grabbed the phone just before his answering machine picked up. "Hello?" his voice came out thick and raspy.

"Mr. Giles?"

He cleared his throat, casting an appraising eye over Ethan, his rumpled appearance, kiss-drunk smile, and the bulge within his pajama bottoms. He licked his lips, as he thought about what was waiting there for him and nearly missed what the voice on the other end of the phone was saying. "Ah, yes, I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" he asked with agitation.

"This is Dee from SunnyDale Furniture, I was just calling to let you know the chaise lounge you ordered arrived earlier than expected. Our store-room is currently at capacity so we were hoping you might be able to take the delivery today."

He cast an eye from Ethan watching him expectantly, to the hallway leading toward the study. "Ah y-yes, by all means. I'll have the space ready for it when the truck arrives."

"Great, our delivery crew should be there within the next hour, thank you!" The chipper woman confirmed before concluding the call.

"Brilliant," Giles huffed, hanging up the phone and dipping his head before looking back up at Ethan apologetically.

Ethan pulled himself into a sitting position, adjusting his pants as he did. "Should I assume we won't be continuing the fun bit of this afternoon?"

Giles took several steps toward him, standing up the walker and grabbing his shirt from where Ethan had deposited it on the floor. "I'm sorry, I've got to get the study ready, the furniture people will be here before long."

"Ahh yes, suppose we'd better make ourselves presentable." Ethan placed his hands on the walker, with a disappointed sigh and used it to shift himself into a more upright posture. He eyed Giles a moment, taking in the dejected look on his face and a smug grin tugged at Ethan's lips. The truth of their mutual desire and disappointment was evident to them both.

Giles swallowed, gesturing toward the door. "They'll need to come through here, I can get some of your clothes if you'd like to change."

"I think I would, yes, thank you."

"Do you think you can manage getting dressed on your own while I do a bit of reshuffling to make room for our new addition?" Giles asked.

"Oh darling, I think I'd better try. Who knows what kind of beautiful show they'd be buying tickets for if you got close enough to let me get my hands back on you now," he winked mischievously before clearing his throat with a cough. "You'd better give a fellow a chance to get calmed down a bit. Just get my bag, I'll call for you if I need help," Ethan replied, the cocky swagger in his tone subsiding slightly.

Surely interruptions must be a unique kind of evil… Giles thought as he made his way down the hall, sincerely hoping the delivery people wouldn't take long.

Even with the mood gone, it was clear they still had much more to discuss.