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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thank you for all of the reviews, and I promise there is more fluffy Spuffyness on the way;)
Buffy walked into A Summers’ Night the following evening and blushed when Xander looked at her and smirked, visually appraising her.

“You look nice tonight,” he said.

“Thank you,” she replied, nervously running a hand through her hair. “Where’s Spike?”

“In the kitchen,” he answered, looking down. “There was a little accident this afternoon.”

“Accident?” she asked, her eyes widening. “What happened?”

“Well, I was trying to take a couple of cakes out of the refrigerators, and I kind of… dropped the tray,” he mumbled, frowning when a sad expression settled on her features. “And then Andrew was making a few of the entrees before, but they didn’t exactly turn out.”

“Doesn’t sound like today’s been going well,” she said.

“No, it’s not,” Spike agreed, walking through the kitchen doors and pausing as he looked at Buffy. “Wow.”

“Is that a good ‘wow’?” she asked, smiling when he grinned. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“You looking like that is helping enough,” he answered, chuckling when she blushed. “The kitchen is an absolute mess right now, and Andrew just cut his hand on a knife he was using.”

“Does he need stitches?” Xander asked. “I swear he hurts himself more than anyone else here.”

“He doesn’t pay attention sometimes,” Spike said quietly. “But he’s fine. I sent him home for the rest of the day.”

“So let me fill in for him,” Buffy said, walking towards the kitchen, stopping when Spike grabbed her arm.

“It was supposed to be our night off,” he replied, looking into her eyes. “We were supposed to have our date.”

“We can push it to another day,” she said, giving him a small smile. “Besides, the restaurant’s more important.”

“Is it?” Spike asked, studying her.

“It’s still in its fledgling state,” she said. “We need to make sure it flies before we let it go off on its own.”

“I’ve run this place before, luv,” Spike pointed out.

“Yes, but this place is all yours now,” she said. “Before, it was a part of your fiancé’s family more than it was ever yours.”

“And now it bears your name,” he replied, smiling.

“Yes, it does,” she affirmed. “And I’m not about to see it go down in flames. I have a reputation to maintain, remember?” She winked at him before going into the kitchen.

“She’s a good woman,” Xander said, looking at his friend.

“That she is,” Spike agreed before following her.

* * * * *

After the restaurant closed for the night and they sent everyone home, Spike and Buffy worked on cleaning up the kitchen.

“Looks like things ended on a good note,” she said as she finished putting away the dishes she had washed.

“Would have been better if we went out, though,” he replied, and she shrugged.

“Maybe we weren’t meant to go out tonight,” she said, looking at him. “Maybe something bad would’ve happened.”

“A believer in fate, are you?” he asked, smirking when she giggled.

“A little,” she answered. “My mom always believed in it, so I figure I might as well, too.”

“So you think it’s fate that you kicked my ass at the first competition?” he asked, tilting his head.

“No, that wasn’t fate- I deserved to win fair and square,” she said, grinning. “And it brought us together, so I wouldn’t say you lost out too much.”

“No, I suppose I didn’t,” he agreed, opening one of the refrigerators and looking at its contents.

“Hungry?” she asked, her eyes widening when he pulled out a bowl of whipped cream and some chocolate sauce. “What’s that for?”

“I’m hungry,” he replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he pulled out a carton of ice cream, chuckling when she looked relieved. “What? Did you think I was suggesting something?”

“Of course not,” she lied, walking over to him after grabbing two small bowls and some spoons. “I haven’t had a sundae in the longest time.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” he said, watching as she began scooping out ice cream and putting it in their bowls. “You know, if you wanted to do something else with this stuff, we could.” She looked at him and raised an eyebrow when he threaded his fingers in her hair and leaned down to kiss her.

She smiled against his lips as she put one of her fingers in the bowl of whipped cream and ran it down his neck, breaking away from his mouth to lick the cream off his skin. Spike clenched his jaw and looked at her, his eyes darkening with lust.

“Guess we’ll have to use the whole bowl,” she said, smiling. “It wouldn’t be sanitary to use it in the restaurant anymore.”

“Now that you touched it with your dirty fingers,” he replied, smirking as he picked her up and set her on the edge of one of the countertops.

“My fingers aren’t dirty,” she said, pouting. “My mind is, though.”

“I can tell,” he replied, kissing her again and groaning when she tugged his shirt up, running one of her hands over his abdomen, his muscles contracting in anticipation. “What’re we doing here, pet?”

“Having fun,” she answered, pulling off his shirt and tossing it aside before grabbing a handful of whipped cream and spreading it over his torso, leaning forward to lick it off.

“Buffy,” he said quietly, closing his eyes and running his hand over her hair. “We shouldn’t do this.” She looked at him with a mixture of surprise and hurt in her eyes. “Not here, at least.”

“Why not?” she asked, running her hands down to the button of his pants and popping it open.

“Because it wouldn’t be a good idea,” he said. “If we’re going to do anything tonight, it should be special, better than this.”

“Oh, I don’t think it gets much better than whipped cream and chocolate all over you,” she replied, grabbing the chocolate sauce and instantly frowning when he took it away from her.

“I’m feeling a bit overdressed, Goldilocks,” he said, smirking. “Time to catch you up first.”

He watched as she took off her blouse before unclasping her bra and tossing it onto his shirt. He ran his hands up her sides and gently cupped her breasts, seemingly weighing them in his hands before leaning down to kiss each of her nipples softly, grinning when she moaned as he tugged on one with his teeth for a moment. When he moved away from her, she grabbed his arm.

“Please don’t tell me you’re stopping there,” she said, feeling her heartbeat quicken when he dripped chocolate sauce over her chest and began sucking off the thick liquid.

“Did you really think I’d stop?” he asked, looking at her with an amused expression.

“No,” she answered breathlessly. “Just didn’t want to wait longer.”

“You won’t have to,” he said, continuing to place kisses all over her upper body as he ran his hands up her thighs, under her skirt. “Did I tell you how unsafe it is to work skirts to work?”

“Wore it for our date,” she said, smirking. “And why isn’t it safe? Because I could hurt my legs on something?”

“No,” he answered, pushing her thong aside and finding her clit with one of his fingers before circling it for a moment, delighting in the way she moaned. “Because your boss is a horny devil.”

“That’s right,” she agreed, looking into his eyes, her hips moving in time with the rhythm of his finger’s actions. “I wonder why I forgot.”

“Well, feel free to forget more often,” he replied, watching as she unzipped his pants and freed his erection. “I don’t mind reminding you.” He reached into one of his pockets and extracted his wallet, pulling out a condom.

“Did you plan this?” she asked, raising an eyebrow and watching as he opened the small wrapper and took out the piece of latex before rolling it down his shaft.

“It’s always good to be prepared,” he answered. “Don’t you agree?”

“Completely,” she said, locking eyes with him as he guided himself to her center, both gasping at the sensation as Spike slowly thrust inside of her, stilling once their hips met. “We just cleaned this place up.”

“Guess that means it’s time to make it dirty again,” he replied, groaning when she rocked her hips against his as she wrapped her legs around his hips and locked her ankles behind his back, pushing him forward so he’d be deeper inside of her.

“I’m pretty sure we might be breaking some health code violations,” she said, moaning when he began pumping inside of her. “Spike-”

“Sod the rules,” he said in a low tone, kissing her roughly as she put her hands on his shoulders, squeezing them when he began to increase the pace of his thrusts.

Both moved together, fervently seeking their release before Buffy felt her inner walls begin to spasm around his cock, her orgasm washing over her.

“I’ve got you, Buffy,” he said, kissing her again, moving harder as he spilled himself into the condom.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his body, not wanting to let her go and hoping that she didn’t regret what they had done.

“Spike?” she asked quietly, nuzzling her face into his neck. “I think the chocolate sauce fell over at some point. I can feel something wet against my back.” He looked behind her and smirked.

“Well, if you’d like, I could lick some of it off of you,” he suggested, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

“You’re a perverted man,” she said, leaning up to kiss him. “One who once told me he didn’t sleep with girls until after the third date.”

“No, I’m fairly sure I said I didn’t take girls to my room,” he corrected. “Never said anything about my kitchen.” She giggled and ran her hands over his arms. “Should we clean this place up again and maybe go home to my place?”

“And what do you propose doing once we get there?” she asked coyly.

“Well, I’ll cover you in the rest of the whipped cream we have and lick it off like a kitten,” he answered. “Before showing you just how perverted I can be.”

“Sounds like fun,” she replied, grinning when he kissed her.

“Oh, it will be.”





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