Title: Black Satin and Plaid Flannel
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS
characters belong to me.
Feedback: Love some, thanks.
Summary: You'll know it's a
fantasy by the fact that Buffy
and Spike are 'together' and no
one is having a fit about it.





Part one....

Spike rolled over in bed and reached out with one
hand, searching for.....

"Buffy?" He opened his eyes, annoyed at not
finding her beside him. Although it was a poor sub-
stitute, he grabbed the pillow she'd laid her head
on and buried his face in it, inhaling the faint trace
of her scent that clung to the linen.

After trying for half an hour to go back to sleep, he
climbed out of bed and pulled his jeans on, then
padded downstairs barefoot.

There was a note on the kitchen counter, written on
the back of an advertisement for lawn service, in
Buffy's small, neat handwriting.

'I'm revisiting my childhood tonight. Want to come
along? If the answer is yes, then be at my house at
seven o'clock. Love you bunches.'

Below her signature was a postscript.

'The answer had better be yes!'

Spike chuckled softly. "Answer's always yes for you,
love."

He placed the note in a drawer and glanced at the
clock. Seeing it was nearly 5:30, he went back
upstairs to shower.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


At five minutes past seven, Spike rapped lightly
on Buffy's front door, then let himself in.

"Thank God!" Xander's voice came from the living
room. "I was beginning to think I was gonna be the
only X and Y chromosome type here tonight."

Spike looked around the room, surprised to see the
slayer's entire posse gathered there. "What's going
on?"

Before any of the others could reply, Buffy came
bouncing down the stairs with a bright smile.

"Hi!" she greeted him cheerily, jumping into his arms.

"Hi yourself, Cutie," he replied, picking her up when
she wound her arms around his neck and her legs
around his waist.

After kissing him long and hard, she leaned her
forehead against his and looked into his eyes. "You
can put me down now," she whispered, smiling sweetly.

"But I don't want to put you down," he whispered back. "I
like it."

Against his wishes, she wriggled out of him embrace.
When her feet were both firmly on the floor, he looked her
up and down.

"Not that you don't look adorable, darling...but you don't
usually entertain in your night clothes."

She gave him a sidelong glance, attempting to look
supremely seductive. "Sometimes I do," she said. "When
a...certain someone comes to call."

Spike laughed. "Yeah...but when that 'certain someone'
comes calling...you're usually more black lace and
less.." He gestured at her attire. "..flannel plaid."

"Well, you may have noticed the people in the living
room," Buffy replied. "Don't get me wrong...I love them
all, but I only wear my black lace for you."

"I see," he nodded. "So...after THEY leave, you'll put
on the black..."

She cut him off mid-sentence. "Oh, they're not leaving."

"They're...they're not?" He looked surprised. "Are you
trying to tell me you've suddenly developed the urge for
group...."

Buffy clapped her hand over his mouth. "Do NOT finish
that sentence," she warned him. Grabbing his hand, she
towed him into the living room.

Spike glanced around the room. All scoobies present and
accounted for. There were tote bags lined up against the
wall next to a pile of...

**Sleeping bags?**

"It's a slumber party," Buffy announced. "Just like the
ones I had when I was a kid. You know...eons ago."

The meaning of her note now became clear.

"A slumber party? Aren't you a little old for slumber
parties, love?" he asked teasingly.

"No," she said brightly. "Tonight...I'm fifteen years old
again."

This comment intrigued him. "Fifteen, you say?" he
asked, grinning lecherously. "All young and fresh and.." He
leaned over to whisper in her ear. "..virginal?"

"That's me, all right," Buffy agreed. "Pure and chaste. Un-
touched by boys with dirty minds and sneaky hands."

"That's YOU, by the way," Xander interjected.

"No shit?" Spike answered sarcastically. He turned to
look at Buffy. "Are you saying that..."

Xander interrupted, highly amused. "She's saying that
she's fifteen tonight, and YOU ain't getting any. Ha!"

"Well, neither are you," Anya said from the other end
of the sofa.

"Ha!" Spike echoed Xander's snarky laugh.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"Okay!" Buffy pointed in the direction of the stairs. "Into
your pajamas everyone. Girls change in Dawn's old
room, boy's change in my old room...or whatever. Just
go and change."

After watching the others troop upstairs, Spike
grabbed Buffy and pulled her aside. "Listen, love," he
said quietly. "Even if I'd known ahead of time what your
plans were...you know I don't usually wear...that I usually
sleep..."

Buffy grinned. "Bare ass naked? Yeah, I know. I like it
that way."

"Well...me, too. Point is..I don't even own a pair of...any
kind of...."

"Spike! Are you blushing?" She giggled into her hand. "That's
so cute!"

"I am NOT blushing," he informed her, insulted at the
idea of such a thing. "Vampires do not blush...about any-
thing!"

"Right," Buffy murmured, biting her lower lip.

"You can't embarrass me," he went on. "I've been around
a hell of a long time, and you...you're just a little girl...still
wet behind the ears."

She folded her arms across her chest. "I can't embarrass
you?" she said, giving him a look that said otherwise. "What
about at the movies last week, when I unzipped your..."

"THAT," he said firmly, "was different. You weren't the
one who embarrassed me. It was my.." He rolled his eyes
in disgust at the memory. "...lack of control."

"Oh, now..." She tried to placate him. "I thought it was
cute!"

"Oh, did you?" Spike pinched her cheek. "Well, did you
ever.."

The doorbell rang.

"Hold that thought," Buffy said. "Pizza man's here."

"Hang on a second!" He snagged her arm as she began
to sail past him. "You're not answering the door dressed
like that."

She stared at him, confused. "But..I'm covered from neck
to toe in plaid flannel...remember?"

"Oh, I remember," he nodded. "For your information, you're
the only girl in the world who can make plaid flannel look
so damn sexy." He swatted her lightly on the fanny. "Now
get your ass away from the door."

Buffy rolled her eyes, but did as he asked. She enjoyed
his possessive nature and sometimes went out of her
way to taunt it.

"There's money on the table," she said, hiding in the
little well beneath the stairs.

"S'all right, kitten, I've got it." Spike pulled out his
wallet and extracted two twenties, then opened the
door and blinked in surprise.

'Pizza Man' was actually 'Pizza Girl'. A tall, very
well built redhead, with amethyst colored eyes that
had to be courtesy of contact lenses.

"Hi, there," She gave Spike a slow, up and down
appraisal, obviously finding him quite favorable. "I've
got something here for you," she smiled.

Buffy's head popped out from her hiding place, and
she stared at the girl in the doorway with a sagging
jaw.

"Thanks," Spike said. "How much?"

Pizza-babe slid two large boxes out of the heating
bag. "Two large deep dish with the works," she said,
leaning forward slightly. "Thirty two-fifty."

"Here's forty." Spike exchanged the cash for the
pizzas. "Keep the change, pet."

"Thanks." The girl licked her lips and smiled. "That's
an awful lot of pizza for one guy," she said. "You must be
really...hungry."

In the shallow well beneath the stairs, Buffy decided
that she'd had just about enough of Pizza-slut.

Marching up behind her boyfriend, she tapped him
on the shoulder.

"Honey," she whined. "What's taking so darn long?"

Spike glanced down at her, his eyes alight with
amusement when he saw the angry color in her cheeks
and the fire in her eyes, turning them from light green
to stormy jade.

"Look, I need your help, okay?" she demanded. "The
baby has a serious diaper emergency, and I can't give
her a bath on account of the drains all clogged up
with some green gunk. Honestly, Spikey....you've
been promising me for weeks that you'd fix that. When
you planning on getting around to it, huh?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but Buffy steam-
rolled right over him, ticking off a list on her fingers.

"One..Billy Junior needs help with his homework or
he's gonna get held back again. Two..there's a science
project growing in the back of the fridge and I have no
idea WHAT the hell it is. Three..Susie just threw up
an entire box of Skittles...you should see it, it looks
like a rainbow. Four..the cat barfed up something that
looks like half a mouse on your side of the bed, and
five...if you don't go and pick up your prescription, that
itch is never gonna get better."

When she finally ran out of breath, Spike looked at her
and said, "Is that about it?"

"Hell, NO." Placing her hands on her hips, Buffy
continued to rant. "There's a shit load of stuff needs
doing around here. Just because you lost ANOTHER job
doesn't mean you get to sit on your ass all day and
do squat. I mean, are you EVER gonna take out the
trash? Fix the vacuum cleaner? Clean up the oil that
junk heap you drive leaked all over the garage floor?"

Spike bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laugh-
ing out loud. How cute was THIS? The slayer was
staking her claim.

Buffy saw his struggle to control his mirth, and
delivered her coup de grace. "YOU" she said, poking
his chest with one finger, "are ALL talk and no action,
and frankly, honey....I get enough of that in bed."

When Buffy turned to look, Pizza-tart was halfway
down the front walk.

"Hey!" she yelled at the redhead's retreating back. "I
ordered mushrooms! Where are my mushrooms?"

The only answer was a slammed car door and a loud
squeal of tires.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a burst of applause from the top of the
stairs. Buffy closed the front door and turned to
curtsy.

"Thank you. Thank you very much. My name is Buffy
and I'll be here all week."

"Now THAT was funny," Xander said as he walked down
stairs. "I never knew you had the acting chops, Buff."

"Well, I don't blame you," Willow added. "She was
practically undressing for him on the front porch." She
relieved Spike of the pizza boxes and took them into
the kitchen.

Xander followed her. "You know, I've been ordering
pizza from that place for years and nothing like her ever
shows up at MY door."

Tara smiled. "I don't think she'll be showing up at THIS door
anytime soon, either," she said, trailing after Xander.

Anya, bringing up the rear, spoke true to form. "God,
Spike....I can't believe you gave her a thirty percent tip." She
shook her head in extreme disapproval before she, too,
disappeared into the kitchen.

Having remained silent up until then, Spike looked down
at Buffy. "You're quite pleased with yourself, aren't you?"

She grabbed the lapels of his jacket and began backing
up the stairs, pulling him along with her. "From now on," she
warned him. "You don't answer the door dressed like this!"

"What are you talking about?" he asked. "I'm completely
dressed in street clothes."

"Yeah, well," She tugged him into her room. "Your 'com-
pletely dressed' look is sexier than other mens 'stark
naked' look."

Pulling his coat down his arms, she tossed it on a chair,
then began unbuttoning his shirt.

"You know, that bed comment was really hitting below
the belt," he said as his shirt followed his coat.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Oh, brother," she muttered
under her breath.

"What?" he asked, smirking.

"Bad puns are my job, baby." She pulled his t-shirt
off. "Besides...it was the only way to get rid of her. I
had to scare her off somehow, and she obviously wasn't
concerned about out children, the little home wrecking
tramp."

Working on his belt buckle, she gave him a sassy
grin. "Don't you like it, that I'm so jealous of you?"

"I like it fine," he said agreeably. "Now, why are you
undressing me with a houseful of people downstairs?"

"I told you," she replied. "It's a slumber party. Some-
times it's called a pajama party...ergo, the wearing of
pajamas."

"And I told YOU," he said, "that I don't have any...ergo,
I can't wear them."

Buffy stopped fooling with his belt, and pulled a small
bag out of her closet. "For the vampire who has almost
everything," she said, handing it to him.

Spike opened the bag and pulled out a pair of mens
black silk pajamas.

"Do you like them?" she asked, suddenly shy.

He fondled the soft material between his fingers and
smiled down at her. "They're very nice, sweetheart," he
said, kissing the top of her head. "Thank you."

Buffy smiled happily. "So...put 'em on."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She used the bathroom while he changed, and when
she came out, he was slipping the jacket on.

The pajamas fit him perfectly, and she mentally
congratulated herself on her splendid taste in
clothes as well as men. "How do they feel?"

Spike smiled as he straightened the collar. "So
good that I may never wear anything else."

"Oh, yummy." Buffy licked her lips. "Don't do
that," she added when he began to fasten the
buttons. "Leave it undone...it's incredibly sexy."

Her small fingers moved up his chest lingeringly.


TBC....

Next: Part 2: Explanations

(Let me know if you like it)

Part Two: Explanations


In the end, they compromised. He felt odd, being
half dressed in a houseful of people, so she allowed
him to fasten the bottom three buttons after securing
his promise that she would be allowed to UN-button
upon request.

They joined the others in the kitchen. Buffy sat down
and ate an entire slice of pizza in the time it took
Spike to fill a glass with ice and pour soda for her.

When she was halfway through a second slice, she
looked up and caught him watching her. "What?"
she asked, swallowing.

"I just don't understand it," he said, shaking his
head. "You're such a little thing. Where do you
put all the food you consume?"

She shrugged and winked at him. "Fast metabolism,
baby. Plus...I get a lot of exercise."

Xander wadded up a paper napkin and tossed it
into the trash can. "This is nothing," he said. "You
should see her on all-you-can-eat barbecue rib night
at the Steak Shack. She's a wonder to behold."

"Very funny," Buffy muttered.

"Yeah, but it's true," Willow piped up. "The waiters
used to take bets on how many ribs she'd polish
off."

Buffy looked up, horrified. "They didn't!"

"Buffy's right," Xander confirmed. "I'M the one who
took the bets." She threw a piece of sausage at him,
which he ducked. "Saved up the down payment on
my car, thanks to her."

"Oh, shut up," she grumbled good naturedly.

"All right, that's enough," Spike said. "Before this
turns ugly, explain the ritual of the slumber party," he
requested, sitting down and pulling Buffy onto his lap.

"Oh! Let me!" Anya said, raising one hand. "I learned
all about it on the Internet." She folded her hands in
front of her, like a schoolchild answering a teacher's
question. "It's a female adolescent bonding ritual,
usually commemorating a special occasion such as
a birthday. The participants gather at a pre-appointed
time and location, bringing with them all the necessities
for being away from home overnight; such as a hairbrush,
a toothbrush, sleeping apparel, a bedroll, and a par-
ticularly cherished stuffed animal companion."

She took a deep breath, then continued.

"Although there are some deviations, the evening
usually follows a pattern of an unwritten yet traditional
schedule of events, including making annoying
and anonymous telephone calls to complete
strangers; eating a great deal of non-nutritious
food; listening to music played at an extremely
high volume, grooming each others hair and
nails; and talking behind the backs of people who
aren't present to defend themselves, usually
in a highly derisive manner."

"And let's not forget the time honored activity of
sneaking out and covering some innocent person's
house with toilet paper," Xander interjected.

Anya stared at him, offended. "Xander! I'm telling it."

He closed his mouth and gestured for her to con-
tinue.

"Now," she said, "there are certain things that will
happen without fail. At one point during the evening,
a game will be played. This game offers one the
choice of answering a question designed to embarrass
them, or performing a disgusting stunt, such as
drinking from a fish tank."

"I'll pass," Spike murmured in Buffy's ear.

"At least one guest will lose something important,
such as an earring or a dental appliance. Someone else
will have forgotten something important, such as an
asthma inhaler. Something unidentifiable will stain
the carpet; someone will accidentally eat something
they're allergic to; marginally frightening movies will
be shown, followed by not at all frightening stories
being told, some of which have achieved a legendary
status over the years."

"Ohh! Yes!" Willow interrupted. "Like the one about
the kids on lover's lane and the guy with the hook,
and..." She caught Anya's baleful glare. "...sorry."

"Well, tell me this," Spike said. "After doing all those
things...when do you actually slumber?"

Buffy, Willow, Xander and Tara all looked at him as
though he'd uttered a blasphemy.

"You don't," Anya said. "The name is a misnomer. No
one slumbers at a slumber party. If people slumber at a
slumber party, then the slumber party wasn't a very
good slumber party, as slumber parties go."

Buffy nodded. "It's a flop," she explained.

"So...what do you do in the morning?" Spike inquired.

"You get dressed, go home and go to bed," she re-
plied. "THEN....you slumber."



TBC....

Next..Part Three: Truth or Dare

Comments? Please?

Title: Black Satin and Plaid Flannel
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS
characters belong to me.
Feedback: Love some, thanks.
Rating: Up to NC-17
Summary: Buffy has a slumber party
for her friends and her vampire lover.


AN: Jenny....hope you don't mind if I
borrow your son's line about caring. I just
had to use it.



Part Three: Truth Or Dare


The pizza was finished and the the dishes were
neatly stacked in the sink, so Buffy escorted
her guests into the living room.

"Okay," she announced. "It's time for Truth or
Dare."

"I don't like the sound of THAT already," Spike said. "Is
this the game Anya was on about?"

His girlfriend gave him a mischievous smile, the one
that always made him want to sling her over his
shoulder and deposit her on the nearest bed.

"Yep," she replied smartly. "Who wants to go
first?"

"You should go first," Willow said. "It's your party."

"I was hoping you'd say that." The slayer plopped
down on the sofa next to Spike. "Truth or dare, baby?"
she asked.

"Oh, fuck," he muttered. "I'm screwed either way."

"You wish," Xander said with a smirk.

Spike ignored the comment. "I think I'll start out with
truth."

"Hmmm...okay. How old are you?" Buffy asked.

"How...that's IT?" he asked, surprised. "THAT'S the
embarrassing question?"

She shook her head. "We'll work up to the embarrassing
ones," she said. "So...how old are you?"

Spike sat back on the sofa and propped his bare
feet on the coffee table. "Let me think....if you go by
when I was born until when I died..."

"Don't say it like that," Buffy put in, frowning.

"Sorry, sweetheart...when I was turned, I was 29. That
was in 1880, so that makes me 151 years old."

Buffy moved a little closer, and he slipped his arm
around her. "Your turn," she informed him.

"My turn, my turn," he said, contemplating his
choices, then zeroing in on his slayer. "Truth or
dare, cutie?"

Buffy thought it over for a moment. "Truth...no, wait..
dare. Dare is better. Just...don't get crazy," she said
nervously.

"Me? Wouldn't dream of it." He hesitated for a moment,
then said, "You have to do it, right? You can't wiggle out
of it if you decide you don't like what you hear?"

She nodded. "Yeah, that's the idea. But I'm not gonna
maim myself, so don't even THINK of bringing up that
tattoo business again. He tried to talk me into getting
his name tattooed on my....skin," she explained to the
rest of them. And, no," she added, glaring at Xander. "I'm
not telling you where."

"Did I say anything?" he replied, holding up his hands.

"It's not a tattoo, babe," Spike interjected, wanting to
get back on track. "No maiming involved, cross my heart."

"Okay, then," Buffy said, shifting around nervously. "What's
your dare?"

Before he answered, Spike picked up his coat and
fished out his cell phone, handing it to her with a highly
pleased smile on his face. "I dare you...to call Angel."

Buffy, who had been mentally preparing herself for
something much worse, looked surprised. "Sure," she
said casually, taking the phone and punching in the
correct numbers. "Not much of a dare, though."

"I'm not finished," he said, grinning broadly. "You have
to tell him everything I do."

"I...what? What do you...oh, hi...I'm fine...Just checking
in...How about you guys?....Really?...."

Spike placed his hand on her thigh, and Buffy knew
exactly where this dare was going.

"Not much....Spike's here....uh-huh....he's...he's
touching my leg...my LEG....No reason...."

Leaning closer, Spike nuzzled the side of her neck
and licked her earlobe.

"Ahhh...um, yes...actually, he's being VERY good...At
the moment?....Licking my ear....Nothing....I swear,
I'm totally sober...."

Xander had his hand over his mouth, trying to hold
back his laughter. Nothing pleased him more than
seeing Angel's chain get yanked.

Chuckling softly, Spike pushed Buffy's hair away from
the side of her neck, then gently bit down.

"Yeeks!...He, um....sort of bit me...NO!...Uh...he's
s-sucking my....ear-earlobe..."

She smacked his hand when he tried to slip
it up under her pajama top, having no intention of
allowing him to feel her up in a roomful of people.

In retaliation, he grabbed her left foot and began
nibbling on her toes. Buffy, whose feet were hope-
lessly ticklish, collapsed in a giggling heap.

"I'm...Stop that!...Oh!...Hey, you...Please....I can't
talk...I can't..." She worked her foot loose of his
grip and retrieved the dropped phone. "Angel? Are you
still....he hung up," she reported, handing the
phone back to Spike.

"What a shame," he murmured, placing the phone on
the coffee table.

It took a minute for everyone else in the room to
regain control of their mirth.

"That was mean," Buffy scolded, half-heartedly.

Unrepentant, Spike shrugged. "Well, I COULD care
less but then I'd have to try."


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was Anya's turn.

"Willow....truth or dare?"

Clearing her throat, Willow drew her knees up under
her over sized nightshirt and scrunched up her nose.
"Oh...truth....I guess."

Without a twinge of hesitation, Anya asked, "Do you
ever think about having sex with Xander?"

The male in question choked on the beer he was
sipping.

Willow's face turned bright red. "You mean...before?"

Anya shrugged. "Before...now...ever?"

"Look, Ahn....I don't think that's a..." Xander began.

"Oh, no you don't," Spike cut in, looking riotously
amused. "You can't change horses in mid-stream. She
has to answer the question and YOU have to keep your
constantly babbling mouth shut." Tightening his arms
around Buffy, he settled deeper into the sofa with a
wicked smile. "Come on, Red. Fess up time. You ever
get the urge to knock boots with chubby here?"

"Hey!" Xander protested. "I joined a gym!"

"Yeah?" Spike asked. "Trying going once in a while."

Xander looked at Anya. "You told him?" he hissed.

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "I told him nothing,"
she said, then gave Spike a dirty look. "See if I tell
you a secret ever again, mister."

"Can we get back on track?" Buffy spoke up.

"Yeah...come on, Red....tell the truth," Spike grinned.

Willow gave Tara an anguished look. "Is it too late
to change to a dare?"

Tara just nodded solemnly.

"All right then." Looking around the room, Willow
visibly gathered her nerve, took a deep breath, and
said, "No. Who's next?"


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Xander!" Buffy said pertly. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth," he replied. "No, wait...dare."

"Are you sure?"

"Believe me, I'm sure. I'd rather swim through
crocodile infested swamp land than tell the truth
about almost anything." He gave her a worried
look. "There's no....crocodile infested swamp land
around here...is there?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Buffy said. "Okay, then...dare.
Take off all your clothes and run around the outside
of the house all the way, then back in the front door."

Xander turned red to his hairline. "You've gotta be...no,
I can see you're not kidding."

"I'm not," she assured him, smiling brightly. "Come
on now...take it off. Take it ALL off."

Rising slowly to his feet, Xander trudged to the
front door like someone on their way to the gallows.

He tugged off his t-shirt and 'clown' pants willingly
enough, but balked when it came down to the removal
of his boxers.

"Let's compromise," he said, opening the door. "I'll
strip down to the shorts, but that's it."

Before Buffy could protest, he'd stepped outside onto
the front porch.

Willow leaned over and whispered something in Tara's
ear. Tara, in turn, muttered something beneath her breath.

The front door swung shut, and the dead bolt turned.

"Hey!" Xander yelped from the other side of the door. "Give
'em back!"

Stretched out on the sofa, with his head laying in Buffy's
lap, Spike dissolved in helpless laughter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I dare you to drink it down all at once."

Spike filled a shot glass and handed it to Buffy.

Grimacing, she accepted the drink. "What is it
again?" she asked.

"Tequila. No worm."

"WORM?" She looked at him in horror. "Tequila
has worms?"

"Some do. Not this kind," he said consolingly. "Now
chug it down, love."

Buffy peered dubiously into the glass. "I'd like to know
which one of you brought THIS into the house."

Spike chuckled. "I found it in the back of the pantry."

"You WOULD," she muttered. Raising the glass to
her lips, she closed her eyes and pinched her nose
shut, counting silently to three.

"Watch this," Spike said to the others.

Buffy tossed back the shot, then reacted predictably. She
made a face, shuddering from head to toe. "Bleeahhg."

"Isn't she cute when she does that?" He grabbed the
glass before she could pitch it at him, patting her on
the back as she coughed.

"Yeah," Xander observed. "It's real cute, the way she's
about to throw up."

"I...I am...not!" Buffy choked out. "Think I've...never had
a drink before?" She burped ominously.

"Oh, THAT was attractive," Anya observed.

"S'cuse me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Where's the strangest place you've had sex?"

Buffy thought it over.

"Strange for me, or strange for normal people?"

"For you," Willow replied.

There was a pause while Buffy considered her
answer. "I guess...in the janitor's closet at the
Cineplex."

Spike frowned slightly. "I don't remember that."

"You weren't there."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Go upstairs and bring me the stuffed animal on
Dawn's bed."

"Piece of cake," Anya scoffed, heading for the
stairs.

A few seconds later there was a horrified gasp,
then Anya came back carrying a stuffed rabbit by
the tip of one ear, handling the toy as if it was
ticking a countdown.

"You know, you have a very cruel streak inside of
you," she informed Buffy. "It's not pleasant."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"Forget it!"

"You have to!"

"No."

"You accepted the dare."

"I'm not doing it."

"Then you're breaking the rules."

"I don't care."

"Well, that's not fair."

"Sue me."

"Oh, come on..."

"I said no!"

"But you're cheating!"

"Go away and leave me alone."

"Come back here....coward."

"I heard that!"


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TBC.....

Next...Part Four: Making Out

(Some feedback would be really
nice....I had a bad day)

Title: Black Satin and Plaid Flannel
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS
characters belong to me.
Feedback: Love some, thanks.
Summary: Buffy has a slumber party,
with the scoobies and her vampire lover.
Strictly Spuffy-fluff.




Part four: Making Out


Spike moved the coffee table out of the living room,
while Xander turned off all the lights, leaving the television
as the only illumination. Buffy and Willow came out of the
kitchen carrying bowls of popcorn and candy, and Anya
followed with a small cooler full of soda and beer.

When the bedrolls were properly spread out and everyone
had settled in, Buffy punched the 'Play' button on the
VCRs remote and the movie began.

"What's this called again?" Spike asked, leaning back
against the sofa.

Buffy picked up the box and handed it to him. "Deadtime
Stories," she informed him. "Ten hours of the most
terrifying movies ever made...or so they say."

He shook his head as he examined the box. "Where do
you find this crap?"

"Hey!" Xander said defensively. "That happens to be classic
horror, pal....and I'M the one who found it."

"Why am I not surprised?" Spike replied. "This is NOT
classic horror in any way, nimrod. You want real horror,
you have to go back to the basics. THIS," he added,
displaying the box, "is a pitiful attempt to frighten people
with nothing more than disgusting special effects designed
to....oh, bloody hell! Did you SEE that? His whole fucking
head exploded! Play it back again!"


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"Stop it," Buffy hissed, pushing Spike's hand off her
thigh.

He rolled his eyes and sat quietly, watching the movie
for a few minutes, then slipped his hand behind her and
massaged the back of her neck.

She allowed him to continue, arching her back a little
so that he would move his hand down and rub it.

Spike obliged her, keeping his touch therapeutic. His
fingers knew exactly how much pressure to apply and
where to apply it, making her pliable and relaxed...which
was exactly how he wanted her.

"Feel good?" he whispered in her ear, smiling when she
sighed and sank back in his arms. Supporting her
against his chest, he rubbed his hands up and down her
arms, lulling her into dropping her guard.

The others were all engrossed in the movie, and he
had Buffy back far enough so that they were out of
everyone's peripheral vision. Slowly, he slipped his arms
around her waist and settled her more comfortably on
his lap.

After a few seconds, he carefully moved one hand down,
searching for the hem of her pajama top. When she
didn't protest, he allowed them to creep just beneath the
soft flannel and caress her stomach.

Her head leaned back on his shoulder, and he took
advantage of the position by kissing the slender curve
of her neck.

There was the tiniest little gasp, then she lifted one
hand and caressed the side of his face. Encouraged,
he nuzzled her throat as he stroked the warm skin
of her abdomen.

Her next move almost caused him to swallow his
tongue.

The tiny hand that had been touching his cheek so
tenderly suddenly dropped down and covered the back
of his right hand where it rested under her top. Before he
could even react, she moved his hand up and over the
curve of her breast, pressing it down firmly.

His cock became iron hard under the silk pajama pants
he wore. He lifted his hips, letting her feel it press against
her bottom. "Baby," he murmured in her ear. "Kiss me."

Buffy turned her head and his lips came down on hers. They
exchanged a soft, wet kiss that only made them want more.

Pulling back, she stared straight into his eyes and easily
read the message he was sending her.

"Be right back," she said, climbing to her feet and heading
for the kitchen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Spike waited two minutes, then went after her. Nobody
paid any attention to him. Their eyes were riveted on the
movies latest display of oozing organs and hacked off
limbs.

He stepped into the dark kitchen and was immediately
grabbed and shoved up against the wall.

"What took you so long?" Buffy demanded. "Don't you
want me anymore?"

This question was a private joke between them, and he
always answered it the same way.

"Kitten...you have no idea."

Bending his head, he captured her lips again, kissing
her long and hard. His tongue invaded her mouth, searching
for hers, then playing with it and coaxing it to enter his own
mouth. When it did, he closed his lips around it and sucked
it lightly.

Buffy made a soft sound in her throat, pressing herself
closer to him. Her hips ground against his, inflaming his
already raging hard on. His hands moved down her back
and cupped the cheeks of her ass, lifting her against him.

She pulled away to breathe. Meeting his gaze, she
sent one hand down between them and fondled his
erection.

"Oh, fuck," he moaned, thrusting into her small hand.

"No, we can't," she said, squeezing gently. "But I can still
make you feel good."

He was well aware of that fact. Buffy's hands were just
as talented as the rest of her lovely body. She had learned
exactly what touches pleased him the most. She knew
that he liked her to wrap her fingers snugly around him and
use her thumb to caress the head of his cock, smearing
the drops of semen he produced back into his skin.

No woman at any time in his existence had excited
and satisfied him the way the slayer did so effortlessly.
Even Drusilla, whom he had truly loved for a very long
time, hadn't been able to compare to this young girl, so
young that she had barely left her teens.

Buffy was his world now, and he was almost sick with
love for her, love that she returned to him with a willing
and tender heart.

His desire for her was constant, it never left him at
peace anymore. All he wanted to do was be with her. He
thought about her when he was awake, and dreamed of
her when he slept. It was rapidly becoming an obsession.

God, life was good!

"These drawstring pants are handy, aren't they?" she
giggled, pulling them away from his skin and sliding
her little hand down inside of them.

Spike's head dropped forward and landed on her
shoulder. "Yeah...handy," he managed to choke out,
groaning when she grasped his cock and squeezed.

"Somebody's awfully hard," she sing-songed, pumping
her hand up and down.

He was getting dizzy with pleasure. Pushing her
pajama top up, he lowered his head and applied his
tongue to her nipples. He licked them firmly, with
long strokes of his tongue, then took each one into his
mouth and sucked.

Now, it was Buffy's turn to moan. Her hand moved up
and down, faster and faster. She used her free hand to
pull the silk pants away from his body, wanting to avoid
telltale stains on the fabric.

Spike's hand dove beneath the waistband of her own
pants, cupping the damp mound of her sex and rubbing
it. His fingers teased her, slipping slightly up inside of
her and then back out.

"Please," she begged in a throaty whisper. "Spike...come
on...please..."

He responded by moistening his index finger in her
wetness, then using it to stimulate her clitoris. He plucked
and rubbed it, eliciting soft purrs from her.

Buffy tightened her grip on his cock, and began working
him even faster. Her hand was wet from his secretions and
his hard flesh slipped easily through her delicate fingers.

"Faster, baby," he instructed her. "Make me come...do it for
me, love...oh...oh, yeah...."

It was difficult to keep himself quiet, but an interruption now
would be disastrous so he burrowed his face more deeply
between her warm breasts as they stood in the dark kitchen,
masturbating each other to a mutually satisfying climax.

His cock went off in her hand, splattering a load of semen
on the floor at the same time she clamped her thighs shut
and came all over his hand, soaking it with her juices.

They had already taken a big enough risk by fooling around
like this with their friends just a few steps away, so there was
no time for afterglow. Their hands slipped back out of each
other's pants, and they quickly composed themselves and
straightened their clothing, then returned to the front room.

Spike was right behind her, when he remembered that he
still had something else to do and made an immediate U-turn
back into the kitchen.

Tearing off a length of paper toweling, he wiped up his
semen off the floor and buried the mess in the trash can.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Have you changed your mind?"

"About what?"

"About the dare you accepted."

"Technically, I didn't"

"Technically, shmechnically...just because you didn't
accept it in front of witnesses doesn't mean you didn't
accept it."

"Will you quit nagging me?"

"Never."

"Shit."



TBC.....

Next: Part 5...Bedtime Stories
Feedback is appreciated...but you already know
that.

Title: Black Satin and Plaid Flannel
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS
characters belong to me.
Feedback: Love some, thanks.
Rating: Up to NC-17
Summary: Buffy decides to have a
slumber party and invite the scoobies
and her vampire boyfriend.

AN: For anyone who is just picking up
this story, or has forgotten because it's
been so f **** ing long since I've updated
it, here's some background:
1. Angel is gone.
2. Spike and Buffy are in looooove!
3. The others are on board with it.
4. No chip, no Riley (!), no NONE of that
crap!
5. No angst (so sorry)


All right? Let's go then.
***************************************************



Part five: Bedtime Stories



"Love is lovelier, the second time around...just as
wonderful with both feet on the groounnndddd!"

"Oh, god....who let her start singing?"

"Hey!" Spike snapped, glaring at Xander. 'You just shut your
yap and leave her be. She's a beautiful singer." Smiling up
at the small blonde straddling his upper thighs, he folded
his arms behind his head and gave her a little bounce. "You
go ahead and sing all you want, baby. Don't pay a bit of
attention to that stupid prat."

Buffy made a face at Xander, then fell forward in a giggling
heap on Spike's chest. "I love you," she said, nuzzling her
face against the side of his neck.

"I love you, too," he replied, bringing his hands around
and running them up and down her slender back. "You
haven't had another nip at the tequila bottle, have you,
luv?"

"Nope." She shook her head. "Just feeling good. Life is
almost normal and ordinary tonight."

He chuckled. "You'd hate normal and ordinary, and you
know it."

"Maybe. But it's nice to give it a try every now and then."

"Ha!" Anya shouted from the other side of the room. "Gin!"
She laid a hand of cards down on the floor in front of Willow.
"You owe me ten dollars!"

Willow smiled, tossing her own cards down. "Will you take
a check?" she teased.

"No." Anya frowned. "No, I won't. Do I look like a bank? Cash
only, no checks."

Seeing how serious she was, Willow's smile began to fade.
"Anya....come on. We were just playing for fun. Ha-ha. Good
times?"

Anya folded her arms across her chest and whipped around.
"Xander!" she complained loudly. "Willow won't pay me the
money she owes!"

"I don't owe her money!" Willow chimed in. "We were playing
for fun. I THOUGHT she understood that."

Xander, who was lying stretched out on the floor in front of the
TV flipping channels, didn't reply.

"No one gambles for fun," Anya stated clearly. "The purpose of
gambling is to win and take money from the person you're
gambling with. You don't go to Las Vegas to gamble and let
them keep the money if you win."

"This isn't Las Vegas!" Willow retorted. "And we weren't playing
for real money!"

"I was!"

"Well, I wasn't!"

"Xander! Make her pay me!" Anya insisted stubbornly.

"I'm not paying her!" Willow added, just as firmly.

"You have to! A gambling debt is a debt of honor!"

"Oh, come on!" Spike exploded from the couch. Buffy
was still cuddled on his chest, dropping soft kisses all
over his face and neck. "How's a fella supposed to con-
centrate? Christ, Harris! Can't you control your bloody
women?"

"Nope," Xander replied, eyes still glued to the TV, ignoring
the squabbling girls. "Gave up trying long ago."

Tara walked in from the kitchen, carrying a can of
soda. "What's wrong?"

"I'll tell you what's wrong!" Anya said loudly. "Your girl-
friend is a welshman!"

"What?" Tara's brow furrowed.

"She means a welsher," Xander interjected.

"She played a game of Gin," Anya informed Tara, "with
clearly outlined stakes, then she lost...and NOW she
won't pay up!"

Tara looked at Willow. "You were playing for money?"

Willow sighed, rolling her eyes. "Not for REAL money. For
PRETEND money."

"Pretend money?!" Anya sounded scandalized. "As if!"

By this time, even Buffy was tired of listening to the
argument. "Knock it off, you two!" she said, sitting up
and giving them her best 'slayer' glare. "Anya....do you
WANT me to go and get that stuffed rabbit again?"

"You wouldn't dare!" Anya challenged, her voice not
nearly as certain as her words.

"Oh, yes I would," Buffy said. "There is no gambling
for real money allowed in my house. If you can't play
nice...." She let the rest of the sentence trail off, her
tone of voice making her point.

Spike grinned, pulling her back down. "Meanie," he
whispered in her ear.

"Damn straight. Now...where was I?"

"Right here."


****************************************


"Okay. Who's on first?"

Xander grinned. "That's what I want to find out."

Spike looked at him. "What?"

"No, what's on second base."

The vampire rolled his eyes. "No. No Abbott and Costello
routines or I swear I'll thump you good and proper."

"And I'll hold you down while he does it," Buffy added.

"Fine. You people wouldn't know funny if it came along
and bit you," Xander grumbled.

"Don't tempt me," Spike said. He turned out the lamps,
leaving the room in utter darkness save for the firelight.

Willow licked melted marshmallow off her fingers. "I'd
forgotten how good these are."

"And how addicting," Buffy said, reaching for another
graham cracker and snapping it in half.

Spike waited until she'd finished assembling her snack. "All
right, Miss Sticky-fingers, you gonna tell a story or not?"

"Not," she said, her voice muffled by the mouthful of chocolate
and marshmallow she was diligently trying to swallow. "My
stories suck. Besides, you were all there when they happened."

"Well, I'll tell one," Xander started to say, then was abruptly
cut off.

"I'm thinking...no," Spike said. "Your stories are even duller
than hers."

"Hey!" Buffy protested. "I didn't say they were dull. I said
they were all there when they happened."

"Same difference. No, Slayer, I do believe I'M the only one
qualified to tell a proper horror story."

She smiled at the others. "He really does tell them well."

"Uh, yeah," Xander put in. "Of course they're all TRUE, so
get ready to be seriously nauseous."

"Never mind him, honey," Buffy said, reaching up to pat
Spike's cheek.

He caught her hand in mid air, bringing it to his mouth and
pretending to bite. "Not until you wash those little hands,
baby face," he said, giving her hand back to her. "Now
everyone just shut up and listen."


****************************************


"A long time ago....a VERY long time ago...I lived in the
city of London. The times were much simpler then, and
true horror was much easier to find. It lurked in every dark
stairwell, round every street corner."

"It was 1888, and I was twenty-five years old at the time. I
had spent the evening in the home of a young lady I was in
the midst of...courting. We had dined with her parents, and I
had then been invited into her father's study for brandy. We
passed a half an hour or more discussing the latest news from
the Whitechapel district of East London. A few months previously,
a rather gruesome crime had been committed there. A young
woman of...questionable...propriety had been mutilated and
murdered. Her name was Maryanne Nichols. They found her
at 3:45 in the morning on Friday, August 31. A police constable
Neill, while in Buck's Row, had come across the body of a woman
lying on a part of the footway. On stooping to raise her up,
under the belief that she was drunk, he discovered that her
throat had been cut from ear....to ear."

"She was quite dead, but still warm. A Dr. Llewellyn of White-
chapel Road, whose surgery was less than 300 yards from
where the dead woman lay, was called out upon the solici-
tation of a constable. He inspected her body and pronounced
her dead. After making a hasty examination, he then discovered
that, in addition to the gash across her throat, the woman had
terrible wounds to her abdomen. After the body was
removed to the mortuary of the parish in old Montague Street,
steps were taken to secure identification, with little prospect
of success. Her clothing was of common description, but the
skirt of one petticoat and the band of another article bore
the stencil stamp of the Lambeth Workhouse."

"Now, if the woman was murdered on the spot where the body
was found, it is impossible to believe she would not have
aroused the neighborhood with her screaming...which must
have been horrible indeed considering how long and lingering
her death must have been. The pain...the terror...the awful
knowledge that the end was upon her, that she had nowhere
to go...no one to help...must have been agonizing."



As the fire burned low, Spike rose to his feet and grabbed
another bunch of kindling from the wood box. He placed it in
the dying flames, then used the poker to stir them up again.



"Bucks Row was a street occupied all down one side by
a respectable class of people, superior to many of the
surrounding streets, while the other side had a blank wall
bounding a warehouse. Dr. Llewellyn called attention to
the very small quantity of blood on the spot where the body
was found, even though the woman had been literally torn
apart. Disemboweled...her neck split open...and yet almost
no blood."

"The weapon used, he said, could hardly have been a
sailor's jack knife, but more of a short and pointed weapon,
one with considerable power being applied to it. He didn't
believe that the woman was seized from behind and her
throat neatly sliced, but rather that a hand was held across
her mouth, while her neck was punctured...and then ripped
open. The other wounds found on her body were of a
similar nature."

"Over the course of the next few weeks, four more of these
particularly brutal attacks took place. Annie Chapman, found
on the eighth of September. Throat punctured and slashed.
Her uterus torn out. Very little blood found. Elizabeth
Stride, found on September 30th. Throat punctured and
then ripped open. Catherine Eddowes, also found on
September 30th...forty five minutes after Elizabeth. Uterus
and left kidney removed...and not found anywhere near
the body."



Spike's captive audience leaned forward, hanging on every
softly spoken word he uttered. None of them had ever heard
him speak in this more cultured voice.



"The last one was the worst of all. Mary Kelly. Found on
November 9th, at 10:45 in the morning. Her entire body
mutilated beyond all recognition, her heart torn out of
her chest...and nowhere in sight. Her breasts, eyes, and
nose cut off."



Turned slightly away from the others, Spike stared into
the sputtering flames.


"Then...as suddenly as they'd started...the murders
stopped. And, to this very day, no one has ever been
able to identify the killer. There've been a lot of wild
theories. Some say he was a skilled surgeon, or a
member of the royal family. Who's to say?"



The fire had died down again, casting the room into
deep shadow. The silence ticked by for a few seconds,
then he turned on them quickly, his demon fully upon
his face.


"Would you like to hear MY theory?" he growled. "Be-
cause I was there!"


He lunged forward, making them all gasp and fall
back. Tackling Buffy to the floor, he buried his face
against her vulnerable throat, snarling and snapping
at it playfully while she squealed.

"Somebody get the lights!" Xander yelped. Jumping
to his feet and doing it himself, he turned on Spike.
"What the HELL is all THAT supposed to mean?"
he demanded. "Are you trying to tell us that YOU
were Jack The Ripper?"

Spike sat up and shrugged. "I didn't say that."

"Right!" Xander scoffed. "Puncture wounds...not
much blood...mutilated victims. Put 'em all together
and what do they spell? You! That's what!"

"Don't let your imagination run away with you,
junior," Spike replied. "It was just a story."

"Oh, yeah? Well....I'm keeping my eye on you!"

"Even if it WAS him," Buffy piped up from the
floor. "You're okay. Jack only killed prostitutes, so
unless there's something you haven't told us about
yourself....?"

"Hmmph," Xander muttered. "Just the same...you'd
best watch it."

The only reply Spike made was a two fingered one.


****************************************


"When are you going to do it?"

"Are you on about THAT again?"

"You'd better believe it."

"Well, sod off, will you?"

"Not a chance. You got dared, and you took the
dare."

"Didn't really."

"Oh, yeah...you did."

"Prove it, then."

"Well, I guess we know who the REAL welsher is
around here."

"Hey!"




TBC.....
Next: Five Minutes In Heaven

Feedback is always appreciated.