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Author's Chapter Notes:
PB beta'd, cuz she's awesome like that!
Chapter 3 - Getting The Shaft


Spike hooked up his reclaimer and all his gauges and cursed at the large canisters of Freon for being so slow. Tapping his foot, he watched as the gauges slowly showed the Freon level returning to normal.

Buffy flitted around the house, excited that Spike was not only going to fix the AC, but stay a while. I wonder if he really has to stay, or is it because he wants to? God, who would want to stay here? She looked around at the insanity, making sure there wasn’t anything else laying around to embarrass her.

She decided to cover Xander’s giant purple couch with something other than the Snork towel, and went in search of a sheet.

The linen closet in the bathroom actually had some black satin sheets stacked behind his assortment of custom-made, comic-laden, round, helicopter waterbed sheets. She pushed the stupid printed sheets aside and grabbed the black ones.

The flat sheet covered most of the couch, and aside from the slickness and shininess of it, it actually was an improvement. At least that blocks out one color.

Two Care Bear glasses were filled with ice and Gatorade and placed on the coffee table next to the bottle of aloe. What kind of slut, walks around in a bikini, and asks a total stranger to rub her down with lotion, in the privacy of this daycare center for the cartoon obsessed? She fluffed the Rugrats throw pillows as she felt a slight waft of cool air hit her back from the ceiling vent. It was fixed. She watched through the French doors as Spike hustled his way back to his van carrying all of his equipment.

Spike tossed all his work stuff into the back of the van, not concerned with organization at this point, eager to get back into the house with Buffy.

Spike checked his reflection in the van’s large side mirrors, breathed into his hand for a breath test, and looked down at his clothes. Blast it all to hell! The knees of his jeans were covered in muddy grass stains from kneeling on the ground in the back yard. “Great. It just figures doesn’t it… “

Realizing there was nothing he could do about it, he straightened his posture and began his walk to the front door, where Buffy was waiting.

“I think I felt some cool air, Spike. Thanks so much! Oh, my! Your jeans!” Buffy lead him into the house, back into the living room.

Spike spotted the sheet on the couch right away. Boom-chicka-wah-wah… oh yeah, damn straight.

“It’s ok, they’re work jeans, I will try to wash them later.”

“You know, I could wash them for you. Besides, it’s still hot in here and you did say you should stay a while to make sure the unit’s working properly. If you need, I’m sure Xander has some lounge pants in his room you can wear if you want me to go look.” Buffy mentally crossed her fingers that he was commando and didn’t want any lounge pants.

“I suppose, if you don’t mind. I have boxers on, if you don’t mind seeing me in my underwear,” he waggled his eyebrows as he spoke.

“Well, as long as you aren’t wearing Underoos under there, it’s fine by me. Now, let’s get you out of those pants.”

A devious grin quickly spread across his face as he began to shed his jeans. He wiggled his hips as he lowered them, slightly pulling his boxers down so Buffy got a drool-worthy peek at his pelvic bone. He knew she was watching, so he slowed down, giving her a little show.

They were both a little hot and bothered by the sexual tension in the air, but quickly snapped out of their lusty haze when the choochoo train came barreling into the room, tooting its little whistle.

Spike handed over the dirty jeans and had a seat on the cool, crisp sheet on the couch. “One of these drinks for me?”

Buffy was already on her way down the hall, “Yeah, it’s Gatorade. All Xander had in the house.”

“I think I will take the Wishheart Bear one then if you didn’t have your heart set on it.” He chuckled as he heard her laugh.

“Fine by me. Why don’t you see if you can get the stereo on. We can listen to a little music while we chat.” Buffy was squirting pretreatment on the stains. The creamy liquid pooled on the fabric, causing Buffy’s mind to wander to other creamy fluids. I am such a skank, who thinks of jizz while doing laundry? One with a seriously hot, half-naked, stud muffin in the next room waiting for her does!

Spike got up to see if he could figure out the sound system. Buffy’s friend certainly had spared no expense on it, but Spike couldn’t find a power button. Maybe you need the remote, now which one…? There were six remotes lined up on the coffee table, so taking the brand name off the stereo, he found the corresponding remote control.

Buffy tossed the jeans into the machine, and made her way back into the living room.

Spike was sitting on the couch staring at one of the remotes.

“Any idea how to turn it on?” Spike turned as she entered the room, bringing one of his legs up onto the couch, effectively giving Buffy a sneak peek of his manly part.

Buffy almost choked as she looked at his crotch, straining to pull her eyes back up to his face. “N-No, I was hoping you knew.”

Spike started pressing buttons, and then, out of what seemed like a hundred speakers, came blasting the theme to Shaft. Isaac Hayes’ deep, sultry voice singing,

Who's the black private dick ,
That's a sex machine to all the chicks?
SHAFT!
Ya damn right!


Buffy and Spike both burst out laughing, not even trying to turn it down or off.


Who is the man that would risk his neck
For his brother man?
SHAFT!
Can you dig it?

Both were now rolling on the couch laughing, singing along, Spike taking Isaac’s lines, and Buffy taking the ladies‘.

Who's the cat that won't cop out
When there's danger all about?
SHAFT!
Right On!

Spike stood up, using the remote as a makeshift microphone.

They say this cat Shaft is a bad mother
SHUT YOUR MOUTH!
I'm talkin' 'bout Shaft.
THEN WE CAN DIG IT!

Buffy grabbed another remote and joined him.

He's a complicated man
But no one understands him but his woman
JOHN SHAFT!

They were both dancing around and having so much fun, that when the theme song ended, they instinctively hugged each other.

Her hot-sunburned skin sizzling against his, both were suddenly aware of their closeness. Buffy slowly started to pull away when Spike captured her mouth in a kiss. Not a slow, gentle one, but a passionate, needy, deep one. Their tongues danced together just as their bodies had a few minutes before. Their hands followed the curves of each other’s backs. Buffy whimpered. Her skin was sore, but her body wanted this.

Spike stopped kissing her immediately, and carefully backed away from her. “Oh Lord, I’m so sorry. I forgot about the sunburn! Did I hurt you?”

She whimpered again, not from her hot skin, but from the lack of his. “No, I’m a little sore, but I’ll be ok. I think maybe the shirt was a little rough against my skin.” She batted her eyelashes at him, hoping he realized she was ok, and continued with more kissing.

Spike quickly pulled his tank top off over his head and flung it across the room. “Better?”

Buffy almost had to wipe the drool from her chin. Spike’s chiseled abs were mythical. Only old statues and airbrushed GQ models looked like this. “Almost. I think the lack of that shirt, and your kissing, combined with the now cold air is exactly what I need to feel better.” She took his hand and led him to the couch.

When they were both sitting on the couch, Spike leaned in and cautiously resumed their kissing.

Buffy hated that he wasn’t laying on her; she wanted to feel his skin. She lifted her right leg and wrapped it around his waist, pulling him flush against her. The thinness of his boxers did little to hide his beast of a cock. It felt bigger than any she’d ever had the opportunity to play with. Now I understand the phrase, ‘hung like a horse’.

Spike moaned into her mouth as his hand sought her hardened nipples that were pressed into his chest. His palm rubbed her nipple through the fabric of the suit, making her arch her back, pressing her tit into his cupped hand. He needed to taste her. He slid the small triangle of material off of her breast, watching as it bared her lily-white skin underneath. God, tan lines are so hot! He slowly moved his lips over her perky nipple, then licked it with the hard tip of his tongue. He circled it, thoroughly coating it with his salvia, then watching her face, he gently blew air across that hard, wet nipple. I cant imagine a better temperature gauge than these pokey little puppies! Buffy’s body trembled underneath him, gasping in pleasure. He lowered his head once more, this time lightly teasing her with his teeth, then sucking it into his mouth, still working his tongue against it.

“Oh, sweet Jeebus!” Buffy cried out as her trembling increased.

Spike started laughing. Laughing so hard that they were both slipping off the slick satin sheet and onto the floor. THUD. Buffy joined him in the laughter, asking him repeatedly what was so funny.

“Jeebus,” he finally managed to blurt out. “Are you sure this isn’t your house? That’s what Homer Simpson says in the cartoon.”

Buffy giggled, suddenly remembering an episode she had watched with Xander many years ago. “Oh, wow! This house is infecting me!” The laughter continued as Spike stood and helped her up.

An awkward silence filled the now cold air, making Buffy panic that he might leave. “You know, I never gave you the full tour of the house. There are a few rooms you have to see to believe.”

Spike sensed her panic, and wanted to calm her fears. “Buffy, I assure you I have no intention of leaving unless you tell me to. Now lead the way, I can’t wait.”

Buffy walked down the hall and pointed to the guest room. “That room is filled with scary ass clowns, no way I could sleep in there. Feel free to peek if you want, Wonder Woman is resting comfortably in there, as I recall.”

“Maybe he decorated it with scary clowns to make sure guests don’t stay too long. Now, I gotta see his room. Please tell me it’s next.”

Buffy waved toward the double doors at the end of the hall, just like one of the girls on the Price is Right. “Through these doors, you will find one of the most unique bedrooms in the history of homes.”

The anticipation of seeing the room, and the possibility of seeing more of Buffy in said room, was more than he could bear. He walked forward, taking and twisting both handles at the same time and pushed the doors open revealing the helicopter amidst the surrounding mock city. His mouth dropped open. This is the coolest shit I have ever seen!

As he took in the room, he missed Buffy removing her swimsuit.

Clearing her throat, “Hey, Spike, you ready for take off?”


Chapter End Notes:
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