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Author's Chapter Notes:
To Ali -- the best beta ever!
CHAPTER 8 --

A/N: WARNING: Part of this chapter could be considered rated NC-17. I think it’s more R, but (if you’re 18 or older) you be the judge. You can probably skip over it and easily still follow the story.

A/N: I think the scene coming up (you’ll know when you get to it) is best read while listening to the Buffy-soundtrack version of “Wild Horses”. I like to de-Bangel songs, and this one worked well while I was writing the scene.


Amongst the clanging of dishes being cleaned by her mother, Jenny, and Giles, Buffy leaned with her elbows propping herself up on the counter and picked up Spike’s digital camera, flickering through the numerous pictures that had been taken by everyone throughout the evening. She smiled, gazing at the group photos of everyone singing Happy Birthday. Next were pictures of Lisa, sitting in Spike’s lap, with smeared cake all over her face. The next few played as a series portraying Lisa as she leaned over and smacked Spike in the face, icing oozing through her fingers and all over him, by far the highlight of the evening. The last few pictures were of Lisa posing with her various new toys. There were some great ones of her smiling at the camera on her brand new bike that Buffy had to remember to ask for copies of.

In the living room, Spike leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, surveying the damage done to his living room. Shredded wrapping paper, bows, empty boxes, fallen streamers, and dirty paper plates, cups, and napkins littered his entire space. It would be easier to clean it all up after he put Lisa to bed he decided. Otherwise she’d be tricycling through the carnage and jumping in the piles of trash. Though, with the amount of sugar in her system, she may never sleep. Although, she was getting short tempered and cranky (the obvious signs it was past her bedtime) and had crawled into Buffy’s lap a half hour ago and hadn’t moved.

“Wishing for the Molly Maids?” came a voice behind him. Buffy came and rested beside him.

He smiled, “Lisa get her second wind?” he questioned the absence of his niece from her hip.

Buffy shook her head, “Just saying goodbye to my mom and your parents,” she replied. Giles and Jenny were headed to a hotel for the night. “They’re really nice by the way.”

“Yeah,” Spike nodded, enjoying the now quiet house and being there with Buffy, who seemed in no hurry to leave, to his glee.

“You want some help?” she asked, gesturing to the mess.

“Nah, I think I’ll just deal with it tomorrow, it’s getting late.” They heard the door shut, signifying the last of the guests had gone.

Lisa came shuffling in to them, wearing footie pajamas with little bunnies on the feet she had opened a couple hours earlier. She rubbed her eyes sleepily and swayed exaggeratedly, looking to Spike like she was going to drop any second. It was obvious she hadn’t fully woken up yet from her sugar-crash nap. Lisa looked up at the two of them, her eyes unfocused on Buffy, “Mommy,” she inquired sleepily, lifting her arms up to Buffy.

Buffy and Spike froze in the doorway, what was previously a beautifully quiet moment turned viciously awkward. Lisa, unaware of what she had just done, laid her head on Buffy’s leg for support.

Spike opened his mouth, to say what he didn’t know, but she saved him, “No, its okay, I’ll take her.” Buffy scooped Lisa up and ascended the stairs, Spike trailing behind her silently.

Spike waited until Buffy laid Lisa down to go in and say goodnight. As he closed her bedroom door with a snick he almost collided with Buffy when he turned. She was standing so close he deeply inhaled her perfume. Judging their silence as awkward, he began the flimsy excuse he had prepared on their trip up the stairs for damage control.

“I’m sorry about the mommy thing,” he apologized. “From what I understand, she never really had a mother.” He breathed deep and held his breath, hoping to God Lisa’s word wouldn’t ruin his relationship with Buffy, that she would understand the situation.

Buffy was silent for a moment, her eyes searching the floor. When she did finally meet his eyes, he was taken aback at the confidence he found in them. “Well, from what I understand, she never really had a father . . . Until you.”

He was surprised to find her hand tentatively on the sleeve of his gray t-shirt, her fingers running over the cotton.

“Buffy,” he let out the breath. Any words that were supposed to follow were gone from his mind when she reached up and her lips pressed against his.

He immediately wrapped his arms around her and never thought he was more aware of breasts pressing into him. They stumbled across the hallway through the open door into his bedroom. He thought she might not have noticed where they were and eased up on the kiss, wanting to slow things down instead of getting abruptly cut off.

Instead, she moved them further into the room, made a comment about his decorating he didn’t catch, and quickly resumed her attack on his mouth. All he could think was, well, this is . . . quick. Granted he had no qualms about this particular turn of events – good God no. It was just . . . surprising is all.

The same thought must have occurred to her, because as she pushed him down onto the bed she told him, “I . . . I don’t usually do this.”

“Do what?” he asked distractedly, screwing with the buttons of her shirt when she climbed on top of him.

“First kiss and sleep with someone in the same night,” she replied breathlessly, running her fingers through his hair, her eyes urging him on impatiently.

“Good to know I’m special,” he replied as he freed her from the garment.

She gave him a little smile. “Very,” she answered. Her fingers fumbled with his zipper as he simultaneously whipped his t-shirt over his head.

The thought of just how experienced, or inexperienced, Buffy might be ran through his mind. She was so sweet and good, he thought of her as being virginal – young small town girl like her. But then, those same small towners who had nothing much else to do, were known for fooling around in backseats on football game nights. He thought he might prefer it the first way, but the much appreciated tenacity in which she was going at him suggested otherwise. Before he could give the conundrum further consideration, his dick finally told his brain to shut the hell up and go with it. Either way this was not going to be some quick roll in the hay so in the end it didn’t matter.

“God, Buffy, you’re amazing,” he blurted.

She hesitated a moment, framing his face with her hands, “And I haven’t even done anything yet,” she smiled flirtingly. Her hair was disheveled but she didn’t care. Whereas any other day she’d feel self-conscious about it, the way he was looking at her now made her feel incredible. In return for his compliment, she pushed him back onto the bed, holding him there with one hand. “What do you want?” she asked him, hooking an arm around her to unclasp her bra, letting it fall down her shoulders and off.

He tried to say something witty, something to make her smile, but all he got out was, “Pants. Off.”

She laughed anyway, “Alright.” She slid off him to her feet. He took the opportunity to lose his own pants as he pushed his body up the bed. She made a show of toeing off her sandals and peeling her jeans off her body, her lacy white underwear coming off with them. Her long hair fell over her shoulders framing her breasts.

Immediacy rushed over him and amongst her giggles he took her arm and yanked her over onto the bed and under him to kiss her and run his tongue up her neck to her ear. He slid against her folds and she sighed, her head hit the bed and her back arched gracefully.

He entered her and it was then that all momentum slowed. Their playful foreplay dissipated and the gravity of what they were doing hit them. She elegantly rolled them so she was on top. As she sat up, she flung her hair over her head and back, running her hands over his chest. That hair was going to be the death of him.

Where she caressed him, her nails raked over his skin and his arms stayed over his head as she began rising and falling. Her stomach performed an enticing belly dance as it concaved when her breasts thrust forward and curved when her back rounded. He watched transfixed as she took her pleasure from him, eyes closed and head thrown back.

He was so spellbound that he barely noticed his orgasm approaching until her speed increased and his hands went to her hips. Her eyes met his and he watched ravenously as they focused and unfocused and she licked her lips. Suddenly she climaxed and when she stiffened he flipped them over and ground into her, their foreheads touching and him watching her face. He reached his peak and she fell over the edge again.

He rolled off her onto sweaty sheets. “Told you you were amazing,” he panted, taking her hand and kissing it.

Buffy smiled contentedly, “Who said I disagreed?” she replied saucily.

TBC





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