“I love you,” Buffy murmured against his lips.
Spike pulled back slightly and smiled down on her. Buffy opened her eyes to look into his, her green meeting his blue across the short distance. “I love you, too, Buffy,” he whispered to her, their eyes locked as if drawn to the other with some ancient magical force.
In times like this, Buffy felt like she could see Spike’s soul and hoped that he could see hers. Gazing into the windows of his soul, she saw above all, love, but there was more. Bravery, pride, dedication, fierce loyalty and devotion, trust, passion, and admiration all shone there. She could see his past reflected there, as well. There was a weight of guilt, remorse, and regret for things he’d done, and a hint of despair over the evil things he’d seen and been a party to. Was that what made his eyes so many shades of blue all at once? So many different emotions swirling around his soul? Was it because he’d lived so long, seen so much, experienced so much, both good and bad over his life? She hated seeing the sadness that lurked around the edges and hoped that one day when she gazed upon his soul, those regrets would be driven away and replaced with only the pride and joy of this life with her and their children.
She pulled her hands from around his neck and touched his face with her fingertips, running them gently down from his forehead, over his brows – carefully tracing the scar over his left eye. Her eyes traveled over his face with her hands, down his razor sharp cheekbones to his strong jaw and square chin, then back up to his soft lips.
Spike didn’t move, didn’t breathe, didn’t dare flinch one muscle lest the spell between them at that moment be broken as she mapped the contours of his features with her delicate digits. He watched her eyes move over his face, following the path of her fingertips and he suppressed a shudder that seemed to emanate from somewhere deep within. Her birthday was tomorrow. She’d graced this earth for thirty years. So young. Including human years, he’d lived a century and a half. Thirty years was like a blink of an eye, and yet, she’d seen so much, fought so many battles, cried so many tears in that short time. He wished he could take all the hurt, all the battles, all the sadness away from her heart, out of her soul and just leave happiness and joy. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t change her past any more than she could change his … and if their pasts changed, then what? Wasn’t that what made them them? If he hadn’t gone through what he had, would he be gazing down on this angel right now? If she hadn’t endured the battles she had, would she be looking at him right now with those green eyes full of love?
He realized that the shudder that had rippled inside him came from his soul. Those green eyes looking up at him were touching his soul and making it reach out for hers. He remembered the time in the butterfly soul paradise when their souls had actually touched, free of their mortal trappings – it had been indescribable, beyond his wildest imaginings. He wondered if that was what heaven would feel like, when two mated souls find each other there. Is that how it would be, not just for a few rapturous moments, but for all eternity? A dismal pang of sadness tugged at his soul – that, he was certain, was a question he would never know the answer to. It saddened him that his past sins would keep him from his angel when the time came to leave this earth. It hurt him to know that at that moment he would break his promise to her – she would be left alone. He’d never be allowed to follow her into heaven.
Then you just need to bloody well make sure you both stay here for eternity where you can be together, he admonished himself silently. Afraid she’d see the regret in his eyes and misunderstand, he broke the spell she held him under by turning his face and dropping a kiss on the palm of her small, warm hand.
Buffy cupped her palm against his lips and took a deep breath. She hadn’t realized that she’d stopped breathing. She’d been so mesmerized by his eyes and her fingers’ journey over the majestic landscape of Spike’s face to notice. She tangled her free hand in his curls and smiled at him when he looked back down at her. “I want to wake up this way forever … just seeing your face right there above mine. Do you think we could do that?”
Spike bit his bottom lip lightly, then let a saucy grin surface. “That and so much more, pet,” he vowed.
Spike lowered his lips to her jawbone, then trailed his wet tongue down her neck and suckled at his scar which stood out white and proud against her golden skin. He could feel her pulse racing below his lips, could almost taste the sweet passion of her blood in that moment. Now he did physically shudder and forced his mouth up to the magical spot behind her ear. Her nipples hardened against his chest and her whole body quivered beneath his as he swirled his tongue lightly around and around over her salty skin.
A long, low moan escaped Buffy’s throat and she turned her head to the side in silent invitation for him to continue what he was doing. She ran her hands up his strong arms, taking in the bulges and dips of his muscles beneath her fingertips. Like a blind person reading Braille, she could see his body behind her closed lids as she explored it with her hands. Up to his shoulders … shoulders that would carry the weight of the world for her if she simply asked him to. Then down his back … his sharp shoulder blades protruded from the muscle like fledgling angel wings.
Buffy smiled at the thought – Big Bad was earning his wings, day by day, month by month, year by year. One day they’d flutter open widely and large white feathery wings would carry him to heaven with her. One day the PTB would have no choice but to acknowledge his rightful place beside her in heaven … one day. Hopefully a long time from now. The thought of being with Spike in heaven gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling deep inside and she sighed dreamily.
Her fingers moved to his spine. Bump, bump, bump, bump she ran her hands down the middle of his back. It was like running over those reflectors they put in the road to tell you when you were crossing the middle line. Bump, bump, bump … she ran her hands back up.
♫This old man, he played nine,
He played knick-knack on my spine;
With a knick-knack paddywhack,
Give the dog a bone,
This old man came rolling home.♫
Buffy started to laugh. It was a low giggle at first which she tried to disguise with another moan, but the absurdity of her mind going to a children’s song in the middle of this got the best of her and her body began to shake and shudder as she tried to suppress it. Her eyes watered with the effort and she felt like she was going to explode, but not in the good way this sort of thing normally ended.
Spike stopped what he was doing and pulled back to look at her quizzically. When had she gotten ticklish there?
When he looked at her, she couldn’t hold it in any more and just burst out in laughter. Spike frowned and ran a hand through his hair then over his face.
“What the bloody hell?” he asked finally, not finding anything in his hair or on his face to cause her hilarity. Did he have something in his teeth?
Buffy laughed harder and turned her face away from him, waving her hands and shaking her head. “It’s not you … I’m sorry … I …” she stuttered out between fits of laughter.
“You’ve lost your bloody mind,” he accused, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Ya know, laughing at a naked guy while he’s trying to seduce you doesn’t really instill confidence, Slayer. What’s so bloody funny?”
Buffy continued to shake her head. “Not you… it’s not … you,” she tried to assure him.
Spike pushed up off her, drew his knees up underneath him and sat back on his heels between her legs as he watched her. He tried to be mad that she’d ruined his finely laid romantic plans, but as she laughed, he found himself laughing with her, even though he had no idea what she was laughing at.
“Tell me what’s so bloody funny!” he demanded, but the laughter in his voice made it less than intimidating.
“Tell me or I’ll give you something to laugh about!” he threatened. When she just kept shaking her head, he reached down and began to tickle her sides with his hands. Buffy jerked and shrieked and more wails of laughter filled their room as he tickled her. She tried to catch his hands with hers, but failed miserably as her body shook with uncontrollable giggles. She honestly couldn’t remember what had started her to laughing at that moment, but she was unable to stop – the giggling seemed to have taken on a life of its own and Spike’s fingers grabbing at her sides playfully didn’t help matters any.
In desperation, unable to breathe past the shrieks and laughter, she rose up and knocked him down on the bed beside her. Buffy scrambled atop him, his own deep laughter joining hers in the haven of their room, and began tickling him as he’d done her. Spike screeched and kicked and wriggled under her, grabbing at her hands and bucking his hips to try and thwart her.
Finally, out of self-preservation, they called a truce on the tickle-torture war. The laughter faded to giggles and the giggles to smiles as they lay together in the bed, each holding tightly to the other’s hands lest the other break the tenuous treaty. Finally daring to release his hold on her, Spike rose up slightly and rested his head in his hand as he lay on his side facing her. He traced the curve of her lips with a finger and had to smile, despite the ruination of his great romantic evening of dancing and dining and seduction. Buffy’s face was flushed a rosy pink hue, her lips curled at the edges, still touched by her fit of mirth. Her green eyes were damp and her cheeks streaked with happy tears, her hair was spread in an artless sprawl around her head and across her pillow – she’d never looked more beautiful.
“Just what was it that got you tickled so bloody pink, Slayer?” he asked at last, dropping his hand from the curve of her lips down to rest on her shoulder.
Buffy shook her head and her smile widened. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
Spike cocked a brow. “Try me.”
“I think … maybe ... I … uhhh … maybe I’ve been spending too much time with the kids. Or … maybe I’m regressing!” she suggested brightly, turning on her side to face him and mimicking his pose. “That must be it! It’s almost … a certain day … and instead of getting older, I’m regressing. I think I’m twelve,” she announced with a satisfied air.
“Twelve, is it?” Spike repeated, reaching out to drag the back of his fingers down her bare arm. “I reckon that makes me a cradle robber, then.”
Spike fingers running down her arm felt like liquid magic pouring over her flesh, smooth and subtle, more gentle than rain and it spoke directly to that part of her that was definitely not twelve. “Rob away…” Buffy murmured as she pressed a hand against his upper shoulder and rolled him onto his back.
Spike went over easily, offering no resistance to her at all. When Buffy pulled herself atop him and straddled his hips with hers, he settled his hands on her thighs and looked up at her. Her hair wasn’t any less tangled, it was a mess of waves with bits stuck out at odd angles, but when she leaned forward and it fell across him, it was just as he’d imagined it earlier. Silken, delicate fingers of spun gold wove magical patterns over his skin and he gasped. Her lips, soft and giving, found his and they kissed gently, slowly building the passion and desire back.
Buffy broke the kiss with a soft moan and began moving down his body with her lips. She kissed his chin and his Adam’s apple. It bobbed under her lips when he swallowed and she smiled. She loved that cute little protrusion almost as much as she loved some of his other ‘protrusions’. It’s where the deep timbre of his voice emanated. It’s the source of the rich, honeyed words that he pours over her when they're making love or in the moments afterwards and the moments before … or when they're walking down the street for that matter.
Buffy kept moving, licking the hollow at the base of his throat, and kissing the two button-like bones on either side of it, then down to his chest. Her hair and fingertips trailed across his skin, following her lips and she could feel Spike’s other ‘protrusion’ growing hard under her butt. She pressed her hips down against his erection for a moment before having to move down his legs so she could give the hills and valleys that adorned his stomach the same sweet treatment with her lips and tongue.
Spike moaned when she moved off his cock and sucked his stomach in when the tip of her tongue began tracing the outline of the muscles there. He reached down and tangled his fingers in her golden mane, lifting it away from her face so he could see her tongue leaving damp, cool lines across his abs. Then she moved lower and the breath he’d been holding came out in a whoosh when she touched the tip of his cock with her hot, heavenly tongue.
He continued to hold her hair to one side so he could watch her. Buffy’s wet, pink tongue darted in and out like a serpent’s, dabbing at the pearl of pre-cum that beckoned her to his mushroom head. A low moan trickled from his throat as she trailed her tongue around the lower edge of the mushroom, paying special attention to the taut band on the underside. His cock jumped in time to her flickering tongue and when she dug her fingers into the muscles of his thighs, his hips jerked up towards her.
“Bloody hell,” Spike moaned, still looking down his body and watching her work her magic. “So fucking sexy, you are, pet. God, that feels …”
His voice broke off and his eyes fluttered closed when she dropped her mouth down over his length and sucked hard, still flicking her tongue back and forth over the soft, sensitive skin that sheathed his steel hardness.
“Bloody hell…” he moaned again, all other words momentarily lost on him. He dropped her hair from his hand and gathered the sheets beneath him into his fists, trying anchor himself in place as she moved slowly up and down his length. His body flexed and tensed beneath her. Her tongue was drawing the most amazing pattern on the underside of his cock while her lips moved up and down in a slow, sensuous rhythm. Her fingers kneaded the muscles of his thighs, alternating between soft caresses and digging her nails into his flesh painfully.
A litany of curses and moans and exclamations rolled off his tongue as his hips thrust up to meet her when she came down on him, but Buffy never increased her pace or sucked down harder. She simply kept the slow and steady rhythm going as she drew teasing, wet curlicues with the tip of her tongue up and down his length.
“Christ, woman!” Spike exclaimed at last, releasing the sheets. He grabbed her shoulders forcefully and hauled her up his body, pressing a brutal, hungry kiss against her lips. Buffy didn’t shy away – to the contrary. She returned the kiss with the same ferocity as he was delivering as she maneuvered her body over his, situating her knees on either side of his slim hips. Without breaking the kiss, she reached between them and guided his hardness into her supple heat, lowering herself down on him as slowly as she could manage.
Buffy gasped against his mouth when he entered her, the mushroom head stretching her opening and filling her completely with his desire.
“God, Spike,” she murmured against his lips before pushing back and settling herself atop him, completely engulfing him inside her.
“Buffy … Oh, God, Slayer. So good … what you do to me, woman. Never get enough … never enough of you,” Spike grunted out as he began moving with her.
Buffy moaned and let her eyes flutter closed and her head loll back as she rode him. “So good,” Buffy agreed with is assessment as they kept the slow pace going – it was a struggle to maintain.
He wanted to ravish her, utterly and completely, as he’d promised her … that seemed hours ago now. He watched her atop him. Her golden skin shimmered with tiny droplets of perspiration from the fire that was building within her. Her hair was a tumble of golden tresses, framing her face, falling over her shoulders and down her back, her lips were full and pink and low murmurs of pleasure passed through them. Her breasts swayed and bounced with each rise and fall of his hips beneath her, beckoning to him. He reached up and circled her nipples with the tips of his fingers and a deeper moan rolled from her parted lips.
Buffy dropped her head and looked down at him, settling her hands on his chest. “Feels so good, Spike. I love your fingers,” she whispered to him as she took one of his hands and lifted it to her mouth. She kissed each fingertip in turn, then planted a soft kiss in the center of his palm. “It’s like you’ve got magic inside them and when you touch me … it leaks out all over my skin,” she purred against his hand before placing it back at her breast.
Spike smiled softly up at her. “You fill me with the magic,” he revealed quietly as he began to move those magical fingers over her nipples again. He teased her breasts and dusty pink areolas while their bodies moved against each other, his cock sliding in and out of her tight, wet channel. He watched chill bumps bloom under his fingertips then swirl out over her flesh like an expanding cyclone engulfing her. As the hard, little bumps of pleasure raced across her body, prickling her damp skin, he felt the tremor of a small orgasm pulse around his length, squeezing and contracting around his hardness and he moaned with the delight of it.
Buffy gasped as the wave of bliss washed over her undulating body and leaned more heavily against Spike’s abs for support. It was just a small taste of the pleasure, of the magic, he could deliver to her, and it made her hunger for more.
She began moving faster against him, her hips rising and falling more deliberately, her ass banging down against his thighs as she impaled herself on his length. Spike groaned with pleasure and met her intensity, thrusting up with more force on every stroke, driving himself into her deeper, harder.
Without warning, Spike pushed up to a sitting position, wrapped his arms around her, and with a roar and a growl, flipped them over on the bed. Buffy squealed in surprise, but quickly adjusted, wrapping her legs around his slim hips, digging her fingers into the globes of his ass and arching up into him.
Spike freed his arms from beneath her and rose up to his hands but spent no more than a few seconds repositioning his body before his need and lust for her took the reins. He slammed down into her, grinding his pubic bone against her clit on every other stroke. He could feel her nails cutting into his ass, and the sensation drove him mad, like spurs digging into the sides of a wild stallion. Then her words were spilling up at him, frantic and breathless and his demon rose to meet her challenge.
Buffy screamed out as his pace and force increased yet again and another more powerful wave of euphoria washed through her. “Yes!” she screamed at him. “More! God, yes! Spike, harder! Fuck me! Fuck me, baby! Yesss! Give it to me! Need you! Yessss!”
Her words were like a drug to the demon and he slammed against her with powerful strokes that might’ve ripped a mere mortal apart, but it was what she desired … what she needed. Spike could feel his control slipping, his own body demanding release, but he held on with the last shred of sanity he had left … she wasn’t there yet … not yet.
He jerked his hips against her in short, fast bursts of power, then changed to long strokes, which were slightly slower, but no less powerful … then back again. Buffy gasped for air and her body tensed beneath him, her words had stopped although her lips were still parted. She drew in a deep, ragged breath … long and deep and he ground down on her clit and lowered his mouth to her breast and bit down on one hard nipple.
The scream began in her gut … maybe lower, and surged up through her body, engulfing her with the intensity and power of a feral beast. Her eyes flashed open and she could see Spike’s golden eyes right above her now, his cock still slamming into her, touching her core with every stroke. His eyes were wild, lustful and she felt a shiver of excitement rustle through her. Those eyes wanted to devour her and she wanted nothing less. Then her back arched, her body pulled tight as a bow, and the scream that had started in her soul burst from her throat like a runaway train.
The thread of control he’d been clinging to unraveled and fell from Spike’s grasp when her scream of passion swept over him. He roared and slammed into her twice more before his cum erupted in a sudden burst of savage lust. His essence filled her channel and spilled out, coating them both with his blessed release. Even as her cervix continued to clutch at his cock and seed with the erratic spasms of her own orgasm, Spike collapsed atop her, spent.
Buffy gasped for air, her chest heaved under him and he could feel her heart racing in her chest. After a few moments she slowly, painfully released her grip on his ass – it had actually stopped hurting until she’d done that. Spike didn’t mind though, it was a pain he would endure every day for the rest of eternity because it was driven from her passion, her lust. There were times, like tonight, when he expected to look down on her and see the dark vampress of her demon beneath him instead of his golden Slayer. He knew she touched that demon within, she may not even realize it, but her insatiable desires and ferocity were more than human. He thanked the stars for that every night.
Buffy fluttered her eyes open as she raked her fingers up and down along each side of his spine. Spike lifted his head and smiled down on her, his demon satiated and back in its cage. “Hey, cutie,” he whispered, his blue eyes shining with love for the woman and the demon within her.
Buffy smiled back at him and brought a hand up to run through his rumpled hair. “Hey, handsome.”
Spike dropped his lips to hers and Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck. The kiss was liquid smooth, like a soft mist of rain touching her lips and she felt a swell of love well up within her for this man … this demon. One moment he was wild, a beast running free, powerful and savage and the next moment he was a kitten, gentle and tender and loving. Oh, he’d kill her if she said that aloud … not the beast part, of course, but the kitten bit, but it was true. That dichotomy just made her soar; it made her love him all the more. William and Spike, man and demon, wild beast and cuddly kitten. Buffy sighed and sent a silent thank you to the gods or the universe or the Powers That Be or whoever it was that had made such a perfect match for her.
“Gotcha somethin’,” Spike whispered, a gleeful tone to the deep timbre of his voice.
“Again … already?” Buffy tittered, her smile widening.
“You got a dirty mind, Slayer,” Spike accused as he rolled off her. “Just want m’ body, you do. What am I, your sex slave? You’d use the little bugger all up in one night and then what would ya have for tomorrow? Be in a sorry state, you would.”
Buffy missed his weight atop her, his body pressing against hers as soon as he moved, but repressed a sigh. “I’d still have magical fingers and … oooo … that tongue,” she teased as she watched him stand up. In the dim light from the bedside clock she could see five red crescents adorning each cheek of his ass where her nails had dug into his flesh. “And … I wouldn’t call it a ‘little’ bugger … maybe a big bugger,” she corrected him with a smirk.
Spike flicked on the bedside lamp and she blinked against the suddenly too bright light, covering her eyes with one hand. “Hey … no likey,” she moaned, watching him through her fingers to see what he was doing.
He went to the closet and pulled out a box, then came back to the bed and sat down Indian style next to her. “Next best thing to the big bugger … at least for a minute or two,” he said, handing the box to her.
Buffy frowned and sat up facing him. “I thought I said no birthday,” she chastised him, despite her fingers reaching for the box of their own volition. It was a shoe box – of that she was certain. It was physically impossible for her to keep her fingers from touching it, if not actually taking it from his hands. When she didn't take it from him, he sat it down on the bed between them, close enough for her to fondle it.
“Not your birthday,” Spike defended. “Today is Buffy Birthday Eve,” he announced like it was national holiday. “On this day, in the year of our Lord, nineteen hundred and eighty one, all the gods and the fairies and angels gathered in anticipation. They went to the mall and shopped all through the day and night because they knew that the next day a supernatural being would be born … a Slayer,” Spike explained in his best ghost story voice. “This was no regular Slayer, though … this was Buffy. Despite the poncy name, she was destined to be the greatest Vampire Slayer the world had ever known. But she was so much more than that! She was born with many other amazing superpowers too. What would those be, you might ask.”
Spike cocked a brow at Buffy and she rolled her eyes. "First of all, my name is not 'poncy' ... I just want that made perfectly clear."
Spike rolled his eyes and repeated with a flourish in his voice, "What would those be, you might ask.”
Buffy shook her head, eyeing the box sitting between them. “What would those be, I might ask. Please do tell!” she replied too eagerly, overacting badly as she played along. Her fingers fidgeted with the bright blue wrapping paper on the package. Definitely a shoe box.
“I’m glad you asked,” Spike continued sounding more like a snake-oil salesman now. “From a very young age, she could smell a shoe sale a mile away. She would swoop in like a cat on a canary. The moment the doors opened, this superhero would scoop up every designer boot, sandal, pump, and stiletto with uncanny speed and precision. The gods knew, if they were to ever stand a chance at those 50% off designer shoes, they better shop early – before this creature was let loose in the mall. And thus began the observation of Buffy Birthday Eve, a tradition that’s been carried forward now for … GASP!” Spike widened his eyes and held his hands up over his mouth as if in utter shock. “Thirty years!?”
“Oh shut up!” Buffy groaned, picking up the box and bonking him playfully on the head with it before pulling it to her lap.
Spike smirked at her. “Happy Buffy Birthday Eve, luv,” he offered sincerely as he tilted his head towards the box. “Let’s see what ya got, yeah?”
Buffy bit her bottom lip and began tearing into the paper. She was happy to see that he hadn’t completely laminated it in Scotch tape. Annie must’ve helped him wrap it.
She gasped when she saw the box … Jimmy Choo. “Oh, Spike … you didn’t!” she exclaimed, opening the box reverently and gazing inside. “My shoes…” she moaned, a mixture of disbelief and absolute joy coloring her words.
Buffy pulled out a pair of black stiletto sandals with four inch heels. The strap around the ankle and toes were studded in diamonds … ok, well, maybe not, but whatever. They were the same style of shoe that she’d sold on eBay to pay the bills just a few months ago, but these were brand new.
Tears welled in her eyes as she looked up from the shoes to her husband and just shook her head. “You shouldn’t have,” she began as a tear slid down her cheek. “But I’m so glad you did,” she admitted, laughing through her tears. “Oh, God, Spike. I love you. Thank you so much. I can’t tell you …” her voice broke and she looked back down at the shoes, shaking her head, still not really believing it.
After Spike won the demon championship fight, she’d thought about replacing the ones she’d sold, but told herself they were too expensive – a luxury she didn’t need. He didn’t go through hell and back, didn’t nearly die just so she could have a pair of thousand dollar shoes. There were so many more important things that money could be used for, like five … count ‘em, five college educations, just for starters.
Spike nodded, reached a hand out and laid his palm against her cheek. He wiped a tear away with the pad of his thumb as she leaned into his touch and met his eyes.
“I love you, Buffy. Happy Birthday Eve.”
**~**
{{Click here to hear Magic by Colbie Caillat on YouTube }}
You've got magic inside your fingertips
It’s leaking out all over my skin
Every time that I get close to you
You’re makin’ me weak with the way you
Look through those eyes
But all I see is your face
All I need is your touch
Wake me up with your lips
Come at me from up above
Yeaaaa, oh, I need you
I remember the way that you move
You’re dancin’ easily through my dreams
It’s hittin’ me harder and harder with all your smiles
You are crazy gentle in the way you kiss
All I see is your face
All I need is your touch
Wake me up with your lips
Come at me from up above
Oh baby, I need you
To see me, the way I see you
Lovely, wide awake in
The middle of my dreams
And all I see is your face
All I need is your touch
Wake me up with your lips
Come at me from up above
All I see is your face
All I need is your touch
Wake me up with your lips
Come at me from up above
Yeaaaa, oh oh da da da do do do do do
Ahhhhhh, I ... I need you