Buffy’s face contracted into a scowl as the first of the sensations hit her –a tightening of the muscles in her chest followed by a wave of dread sweeping over her. Then the heat began, spreading first from her face and throat and quickly reaching over her arms and torso to her legs. She kicked at the fabric tangled around her feet and legs, weakly at first and then with more strength as the suffocating warmth intensified. By the time she’d exerted enough force to free herself from the layers of cloth; Buffy was panting, fully awake and bathed in sweat.

Her bed companion stirred, lifting his head still groggy with sleep he inquired, “Having another one, are you?”

“Yeah, and it’s a big one. Get your ass over here and cool me off!”

Spike’s indulgent smile was lost on Buffy. All she cared about was getting as much of her skin in contact with his unnaturally cool undeadness as quickly as she could. He scooted over to her, simultaneously pushing the sheet away from his naked form. By the time his cool flesh was pressed along her humid length his cock was already engorged and painfully hard. But, since it too was cool to the touch, he didn’t hesitate to press it against her hip.

“Better, love?”

“A little. Could you put your hands on my face?”

Spike reached up to place his hands gently against Buffy’s flaming cheeks. He held them there for a few moments and then moved one hand to her forehead while the other slipped behind her head to caress the back of her neck.

“How’s that, then?”

“Nice. Better.” Buffy sighed deeply, “Okay now let me flip over.”

Spike withdrew just enough to let Buffy turn all the way around. He then pulled her close again, applying his welcome coolness to her backside. Again, his erection asserted itself as it was trapped between their bodies,

Spike took the opportunity to reach between them, cupping Buffy’s bottom in both hands. “Hmmm. This part’s not so hot.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Oh, don’t worry sweetheart, your bum is every bit as luscious as always. It just isn’t as warm as the rest of you.”

“Well it still feels good.”

“I’m not going to argue with that, love.”

“I mean you, you know, your coolness feels good…”

“Yes, yes, I know, pet. Now, how about you start with the breathing business.”

Buffy sighed again and took in a long, deep breath. She exhaled slowly and then drew in another breath. Spike brushed his hands lightly down her arms and legs, blowing gently on her neck and shoulders as she continued her meditative breathing. By the tenth breath she turned her head to bring her lips close to his.

“Thanks sweetie,” she whispered, “It’s gone. I’m cool.”

Spike closed the small distance between them, gently pressing his mouth to hers and then nipped playfully at her lower lip. “I know I should hate these hot flashes because they’re so miserable for you, sweets. But it’s hard to resent something that makes you wake up wanting me to touch you – even if it is just to cool you down.”

“Yeah, and to think I used to like you mostly because you made me hot…”

“Well, I’d like to think that I can still do that too.”

“You’d like to think! But do you know?” Buffy teased.

“You know, you have a point there, sweetness. I can’t really know unless I try. Would you be willing to participate in a scientific test?”

“Oh, yes!” Buffy squealed as Spike pounced, “I love science!”

***

The next morning, sun streamed through the specially tinted windows, bathing Buffy and Spike in golden light as they slept tangled together in their bed. Spike was the first to stir, raising his adorably tousled bed head to survey first Buffy who snored softly beside him, and then the bed, which looked exactly like the scene of prolonged and acrobatic Sexcapades that it was. At some point Buffy had pulled off a corner of the mattress. A chunk of torn ticking lay discarded on the floor, a spring and several fistfuls of stuffing had extruded out of the mattress as it took its usual pounding. The whole mess now hung there like frozen vomit. Spike reached carefully across Buffy’s sleeping form to tuck a corner of the sheet over the damage. ‘No need ruining the morning with an argument about who was responsible for destroying yet another mattress,’ Spike reasoned to himself.

He ran his hands through his hair, leaving it in soft, slightly less disheveled curls. He knew Buffy loved it that way and secretly relished the way she’d smile at him and insist on touching it when she woke up. But he decided to let her sleep a bit longer. The night sweats had been interrupting her sleep for weeks and, although it would be hard for anyone else to notice any difference, Spike knew she could use a little extra shuteye. Besides, it gave him a chance to watch her sleep. Even after decades of sleeping with Buffy, Spike still loved to wake up early enough to lie beside her listening to her slow heartbeat and observing her chest rise and fall with each breath while he inhaled the absolutely unique and intoxicating scent of his Slayer. ‘What a pathetic git!’ he thought to himself for perhaps the 10,000th time. ‘But this just never gets old.’

Just then Buffy snorted softly and rolled onto her back. Without opening her eyes she stretched out her arms and legs like a starfish. “Ow! I’m sore,” she announced, eyes still shut. Then she turned toward Spike and leveled him with a mock glower. “This is all your fault you know,” she said, yawning loudly. “I could have woken up all rested and not sore if you hadn’t needed to prove- yet again- that you’re still the sexiest thing on the planet.”

Spike laughed, “Ah ha, so you admit I did succeed in proving that now irrefutable fact?”

“Yes, oh so sexy one, you did,” Buffy said as she struggled to sit up. “And I have the sore muscles and…ow!...even some bruises to show for it! That is, if you failed to notice the screaming and tearing apart of the bedding.” By now Buffy was crouched over the corner of the bed looking at her handiwork of the previous night.

Spike held his breath for a moment, waiting for her to launch into him about the mattress. “I’m sorry, love. But I don’t think you can blame me entirely.”

“No, I don’t suppose I can,” she replied but then continued in a small voice. “I guess this means that you still find me attractive even though I’m all old and going through ‘the change’ and everything?” Spike released the unneeded breath when he realized that she wasn’t interested in the mattress.

“You are kidding? How could you doubt it for a second? I mean, that was you in this very bed last night receiving a thorough and I might say rather masterful rogering from yours truly, was it not?”

“Yup, that was me alright!”

“Well then, I should think the question has been put to rest.”

“Yeah, I guess it has.”

Tbc...

Spike pulled Buffy into an embrace. “Sweet, you should know by now that you never need to worry about me losing interest in you.’

She smiled, her lips against his, and sighed. “I know, but somehow these days I don’t know. I’m all little miss insecure girl all of a sudden. I think it has something to do with the giant hormone war going on in my body,” she said, looking down. “I’m sorry I’m so needy lately.”

Spike pulled back and tipped her chin up with his finger so he could look directly into her eyes. “You do not need to apologize to me, love. I don’t mind a bit reassuring you.” With this he raised his eyebrows and shot her a predatory leer that sent a shiver down to her toes. “In fact, I’m always happy to provide a graphic demonstration of just how much I continue to desire you.”

“Good to know,” she replied, leaning into him and nuzzling his neck just below his ear. Spike growled softly and pulled her down onto the bed, scraping his blunt human teeth along her throat. This caused another, bigger tremor to travel in a flash right through Buffy’s body to her clit, which began to pulse pleasantly with anticipation.

It looked like things were about to heat up again when Spike suddenly pulled away, giving Buffy a thoughtful look. “Unless there’s something else I should be doing. I mean, besides shagging you senseless.”

Buffy looked up at Spike in confusion, but he continued. “If you’re really that uncertain of me, maybe I’m failing you in some way. I’ve been by your side and watching your back for 60 odd years. I meant what I said, I don’t mind reassuring you, but maybe we’re missing something bigger here that needs to be addressed.”

Buffy cupped her hands on either side of Spike’s face and smiled up at him. “I don’t know honey. I think I’m just experiencing something normal for a change – which is so not normal for me. The fact that I’m going through 'the change' while I still look 22 doesn’t mean it isn’t just as disruptive and disconcerting for me as when it happens to normal women.”

“Hmmm, maybe you’re right,” Spike grinned. “Well then, you should be delighted. Didn’t you always used to whine that you just wanted to be normal?”

“Don’t even think about teasing a cranky old lady with crazy hormones, fang-face! I can still kick your ass, you know!” Buffy used her legs to flip Spike onto his back and was about to tickle him into submission when Spike yelled, “Oi!” and tried to jump out of bed. Buffy grabbed him and held on laughing. “Hey, tough guy, where do you think you’re going?”

But when she saw his eyes flash yellow Buffy realized that he wasn’t just evading her tickling fingers. They both stayed very still, Spike cocking his ear toward the bedroom door. Their room was heavily insulated to protect other occupants of the house from the often boisterous and sometimes downright deafening sounds that accompanied Spike and Buffy’s lovemaking. Not gifted with vampire hearing, Buffy couldn’t make out what Spike was hearing on the other side of the door, but she knew he heard something.

“Bugger, I asked Giselle to keep her busy until we came downstairs,” Spike complained. “I guess it’s too much to expect an over-paid demon nanny to do what I ask after we’ve just dragged ourselves back from two weeks in a hell dimension!”

“Hold on there Mr. Grumpy, what do you hear? Maybe they’re just playing.”

“They’re playing alright,” Spike agreed, clearly not amused. “But I’m not. I’m going to have a word or two with Miss Very Highly Recommended.” Spike pulled himself free of Buffy and started striding toward the door. Buffy smiled as she watched the muscles flexing in Spike’s cute butt as he crossed the floor. She was so enthralled with the view that he was about to turn the doorknob before she yelped, “Spike, pants!”

Spike stopped, looked down at his state of undress and shook his head. Stepping into the dressing room, he came out wearing a pair of black silk pajama bottoms. Buffy sighed as she watched him tie the drawstring, the pants sitting low on his narrow hips. She had to admit that she could have made very good use of another hour or so of alone time with her mate.

Spike, still intent on giving the nanny a piece of his mind, was turning to go when he suddenly froze. “Wait a bloody minute, that’s not Giselle’s voice,” he exclaimed. “What in bleeding hell is she doing here in London? I thought she was home in California.”

Buffy was starting to get worried now, “What are you talking about? Who’s out there with Joy?”

She didn’t get an answer. Spike was already out the door, and it took Buffy another minute to grab her dressing gown, tie it around her waist, and kick the potentially incriminating chunk of mattress out of sight. By the time she caught up with Spike in the hallway outside their room, he had his arms full of squealing, squirming little girl. “Papa! Papa! Look, it’s Auntie Dawnie. Auntie Dawnie came in her portal. She brought me a mask, and she told me all about Hall’ween. I want to go to California for Hall’ween. Oh, Papa, can we go to California for Hall’ween?”

Buffy took in the scene. Spike holding their daughter Joy in his arms -- the four-year-old dressed in a white turtle-neck, pink overalls and a cat mask, complete with whiskers. And her sister, Dawn, wearing a very sheepish expression.

Tbc…

***************
Thanks to Addie Logan for reviewing this. I thought this was going to be a one-shot but it's turned into a story with several chapters. Please review. I'm new to this and I really need to hear from you if you like it.

“I really can’t believe we are having this discussion again, Dawn,” Spike grumbled. “Traveling through portals is all well and good for hunting down nasties in various hell dimensions. That’s work. Using a portal to hop half-way around the globe for a visit is a foolish risk. There are safer ways to get from point A to point B.”

Keenly aware that Spike had just used her given name for the third time -- a clear indication that he was supremely pissed off – Dawn tried to keep her voice steady as she replied. “First off, I didn’t just pop in on a whim. Giselle called and said that she was under strict orders not to disturb you for any reason, but she had to leave immediately because of a family emergency.” Spike’s eyes flashed amber, but Dawn managed not to flinch as she continued. “You know, this could have all been avoided if you didn’t have her convinced that you’d eat her if she makes a mistake! You’ve got her completely terrified!”

“Nice try, but you could have called us,” Spike said, using his fork to cut through his stack of pancakes and dragging the bite through a puddle of syrup before popping it into his mouth.

Spike, Dawn and Joy were all seated around a table in the spacious sun-drenched atrium that served as a combination kitchen, family room, and playground. After a few decades of experimentation, Buffy had eventually overcome her tendencies toward food terrorism and could now manage most breakfast foods with aplomb. While Spike remained the family’s primary chef, Buffy took charge of pancakes, waffles and breakfast smoothies.

Under the present circumstances she was just as happy to have kitchen duties that kept her out of the conversation between Spike and Dawn.

“Do you want more many pancakes, Bunnie-head?” Buffy held up a stack of steaming hotcakes on a spatula, waiting for Joy to answer.

“Two, with lots of syrup!” the four-year-old replied.

“Wow! I’ve see you’ve got the Summers' appetite, Joy-Joy,” Dawn interjected, happy to change the subject.

“Yeah,” Spike drawled. “And I think she’s got the Summers' stubborn streak too. But I’m not finished with you…”

Realizing that he wasn’t going to let it go, Dawn interrupted. “You’re right, I could have called. And now I guess know I probably should have,” Dawn admitted, looking down for a moment and appearing thoughtful, before looking up again with a hint of defiance. “But I knew where you two had been for the past two weeks. I didn’t want to disturb you either. And I wanted to see Joy…”

“So you jumped into the nearest portal, exposed yourself to God knows what dangers, and didn’t even tell anyone what you were doing?” Spike looked at her, both eyebrows raised in a look of total bewilderment. “Do you have any idea what it would do to me -- to your sister -- if anything happened to you?”

“I guess I should have told someone,” Dawn conceded. “But using portals isn’t as dangerous as you think. You just don’t like anything new.” She tried to return his look with a challenging glare but couldn’t quite pull it off with her lip stuck out in a pout.

Knowing he had her now, Spike softened a bit. “No Nibblet, I’m no Luddite. I’ll take all the modern conveniences you can throw at me. It’s messing around with magic and other mystical stuff that makes me nervous. But what’s done is done. I’m happy to see you. My girls are happy to see you. Tell us about Giselle’s emergency.”

Dawn related how Giselle had called her earlier that morning, obviously distraught, and not altogether coherent. What she’d been able to gather from Giselle’s explanation was something to do with one of her sisters and a mating ceremony. All she knew for sure was that Giselle had to leave as soon as possible, didn’t know when she could return, and needed to take two dozen eggs with her. Dawn had used a portal to travel from her home in California to Spike and Buffy’s house in London. Then she opened another portal so Giselle could go to her demon family’s dimension.

When Dawn first discovered her powers – a benefit of being the Key -- her travels had been limited to known portals. Later, Willow figured out not only how to find more existing portals, but also how to position new portals wherever they were needed. Spike and Buffy were among several teams who used the portals to eliminate demon threats even before they manifested in their home dimension. The Council of Watchers now relied on the combination of Dawn and Willow’s abilities to stay at least a step or two ahead of most garden variety apocalypses. Portal travel had revolutionized the whole slayage business.

Fortunately for all concerned, since her blood remained a critical ingredient for opening portals, Dawn’s powers also allowed her to defy ordinary aging. Like Buffy, she looked like she was in her early 20’s, although her chronological age was more like late 70’s. Willow used her multidimensional access pass to visit a world in which time travels backwards at an accelerated speed. She went there as needed to reverse her own aging process. Unlike Dawn, however, she tended to reverse only to her early 30’s, preferring the curves she’d attained as she got a little older, and convinced that people took her more seriously when she left on a few more years.

Although both Willow and Dawn earned full-time salaries from the Council, Dawn only needed to work a few weeks a year to maintain portal travel for the slaying teams. The rest of the time she ran a dance school in San Francisco. When people asked her about her youthful appearance she always attributed it to doing Pilates three times a week. As a result, none of the Pilates studios in the area could ever find enough instructors to meet the demand.

When Giselle’s call reached her, Dawn was working on costumes for her fall recital. Knowing that she had made an extra cat mask, she brought it along as a present for Joy. It had been an instant hit with the four-year-old, prompting her insistence that she show it to her Mama and Papa. Dawn ran after Joy to try to stop her from running upstairs, but she took it for a game which led to the thumping and squealing that had brought Spike and Buffy out of seclusion.

Now that she’d finished stuffing herself with pancakes and syrup, Joy was ready to play again. She sidled up to her father and grabbed his hand. “Come on Papa,” she said. “Let’s play Hall’ween!”

“Okay, Widget,” Spike answered. “But you’ll have to tell me how to play.”

Tbc…

“I suppose we should be grateful that Giselle didn’t call Red,” Spike mused as he and Buffy prepared for bed later that evening. “Instead of just bringing her a mask, Red might have turned the Widget into a cat.”

“Willow would never do anything like that. I don’t know why you don’t trust her. It’s been years since she’s even threatened to turn you into a toad -- although you’ve deserved it plenty of times,” Buffy replied as she pulled a nightgown over her head.

Spike threw a pillow at her in retaliation, hitting her square in the back. “Oof! Hey, don’t even think about starting another pillow fight with me. We always end up with a pile of feathers, and then I have nothing to put my head on when I sleep.” Buffy returned the pillow to the head of the bed. “And speaking of bed linen, when did you manage to replace this mattress? I was with you all day.”

“Didn’t replace it.”

“But isn’t this where I…um…well, you know, removed a piece? Now it looks fine.”

“That’s because I flipped the mattress over. The broken bit is at the bottom now, where it hardly matters.” Spike smiled at his brilliance. “That should extend the life of this mattress at least until you rip off the rest of the corners.”

“Oh, that was clever! I always knew you were smarter than you look!”

“Hey! Watch it! Just ‘cause I’m pretty doesn’t mean I can’t be smart too!”

“Oh, you are so easy to tease, really, what a baby!” Buffy wrapped one arm around Spike’s waist and then reached up to ruffle his hair affectionately. “You did a good thing. You saved the Council some money and me the embarrassment of asking them to replace another mattress, at least for now. That clerk in the business office knows way too much about our private lives.”

“Well I don’t suppose you give too much thought to the clerk at the Council when you’re busy tearing our bedding to bits, now do you?” Spike’s lascivious leer gave Buffy a major case of goose bumps. “Come here little girl; let’s see if I can inspire a little more destruction.”

Spike took Buffy’s hands and started backing her toward the bed.

“Aren’t you going to read to Joy?” Buffy asked as the back of her knees hit the mattress.

Spike looked a little torn, but quickly rallied. “Yes, I am. But I’m counting on you to remind me where I was when you so rudely interrupted my seduction. It was going so well.”

“Sweetheart, life with you is one big seduction. I don’t think you’ll have any trouble figuring out where you left off.” Buffy gave him a little push toward the door. “Give her a kiss from me.”

Spike kissed Buffy softly on the top of the head. “Try not to fall asleep while I’m gone,” he said. “You’re the devil to wake once you start snoring.”

“I do not snore!” Buffy huffed after him as Spike disappeared down the short hallway to Joy’s room.

*****

Having read to, snuggled, and tucked Joy into her bed, Spike returned to their room to find Buffy had arranged a dizzying array of sex toys in neat rows across the duvet.

“I’ve been meaning to do this for months,” she explained. “And you told me not to go to sleep.”

“That’s quite a collection, love,” Spike said, his brow slightly furrowed. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

Buffy laughed, “Oh, sweetie, don’t worry I’m not planning to use them all tonight! We’ve had some of these for ages. I just thought we could weed out a few that we don’t need anymore.”

“Love, at the moment, I don’t need any of it. I just want you, naked, in our bed.”

“Okay, but help me put these away. And while we’re at it, let’s take a few out for the trash.”

Buffy’s ruse worked. Spike pulled the trunk a little closer to the bed and the two of them sat side by side as they placed each of the various items either back into the trunk or the plastic garbage bag that Buffy had handy. When they were finished, the trunk was still nearly full of sex gadgets along with the two best sets of handcuffs, several lengths of chains, some silk ropes and a variety of leather restraints.

“I agree that we should keep the cuffs and chains,” Buffy said, “but since we gave up the bed frame there isn’t anyplace to attach them.”

“Replacing that noisy old bed was one of the smartest things we ever did,” Spike said, reaching down to touch the carpet-covered platform that now supported their mattress. “But I suppose we could add some bolts so I’d have a way to secure you in a compromising position.” She didn’t even have to look up to know he was leering again.

“Yeah, but maybe we could skip using the Council handyman this time.” Buffy suggested.

When they had returned the trunk to its place, Buffy and Spike turned out the lights, lit a few of the thick candles scattered around the periphery of the room, and climbed into bed.

Spike held out his arm so Buffy could snug her body against his. “There, that’s what I had in mind, except for the nightie. You can lose that if you don’t mind.”

“It’s not that I mind, it’s just that this is about when Joy usually decides she needs a drink of water or that there’s a demon in her sock drawer. I thought I’d leave this on until I get back from performing my duties as Buffy the Sock Drawer Demon Slayer.”

“I don’t think we’re going to hear from her tonight, love. She was right knackered from running about being a kitten all day.”

As if on cue, the monitor fizzed a bit and they both heard Joy’s voice. “Mommy, Papa, I’m thirsty! Can I have a drink?”

Buffy sighed as she slid out of bed. “Wrong again, fang boy! Hold my spot, I’ll be back.”

Spike could hear his girls as they ran a glass of water in the adjoining bathroom and the clink of the glass when Joy finished drinking and placed it on the counter. He heard them pad across the carpet back in Joy’s room where they talked quietly for several minutes. Vampire hearing being as acute as it is, he could have listened to the whole conversation, but he purposely gave them their privacy.

When Buffy returned, she climbed back into bed but didn’t immediately resume her spot against Spike’s side. “Did you do in the sock drawer demon?” he asked.

“No, he didn’t make an appearance tonight. Unpredictable, those sock drawer demons!” Buffy turned a bit to look directly into Spike’s eyes. “But tell me, how do you plan to handle this trip to California that is supposed to happen in four days?”

“What trip to California?” he responded, obviously confused.

“The one Joy thinks you are taking with her to celebrate Halloween American style.”

“Oi! I thought I convinced her to stay here to celebrate Nut-crack and Mischief Nights – fine British traditions that are far superior to your commercialized American Halloween.”

“Oh, you were convincing alright. She wants to celebrate everything. But she’s figured out that you can go to California for trick-or-treat and be back in plenty of time for Mischief Night on November 4th.”

“And what about Nut Crack Night?” Spike asked as though he was afraid of the answer.

“She isn’t worried about missing it this year,” Buffy replied, “She says she doesn’t need to know who her sweetheart will be until she grows up!”

“I’m going to have to talk to her, straighten her out on this. We are not going to California this week.”

Buffy, took his hand and made her serious face. Spike sat up at once, “What is it? That face is reserved for only truly dire situations!”

“You didn’t listen did you? You didn’t hear what she was telling me about why this is so important to her.”

“No, love, I didn’t think I should listen in. I thought you and the Widget should have a little privacy.”

“Then you don’t know what this is all about.” Buffy pursed her lips. She knew what she had to tell Spike was going to evoke a complicated emotional reaction; she just didn’t know what it would be.

“You’d better tell me, love,” Spike insisted, even as he wondered if he really wanted to know.

Buffy took a deep breath. “Dawn told her about Halloween -- how people go out at night dressed in costumes with masks and make-up. Your little girl is pretty smart. She figured out that Halloween is the only chance she’ll have to go out with you in public when you are wearing your ‘fang face.’”

Buffy stopped for a moment putting her hands on either side of Spike’s face. “Darling, she wants to show off your beautiful demon face. She thinks it’s a shame that no one else ever gets to see it.”

Tbc….

Spike was silent for a long moment. Buffy waited, not breathing, to see how he would react to learning why their daughter was so intent on going to California for Halloween. She didn’t know what to expect.

“Well bugger me blind!” Spike sputtered. “This takes the fuckin’ cake doesn’t it? Just when I thought I knew what was what.”

Buffy withdrew from him a bit, stunned by his outburst. “Sweetie, what do you mean? You’re disappointed? What’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing’s bloody wrong, except I can’t seem to count on a single thing that really matters. Nothing’s wrong. It’s all just too bloody right!”

Buffy shook her head for a moment, trying to clear the confusion. “Whoa, slow down, cowboy. You better back up and let me in on what’s going on in that bleached head of yours. I’m lost.”

Spike looked up, a dazed expression clouding his eyes. “Sorry, pet. I guess I skipped a few steps back there. I can explain. I think.”

Buffy scooted back to Spike’s side. “Good. Start with the ‘splainin’, I’m all ears.”

Spike propped two pillows against the headboard and leaned into them as he put his arm around Buffy. More comfortable now, he took a deep, calming breath, and brushed the hair back from her temple before kissing it softly. “I don’t know if you are aware, love, that I often leave you here at night while you are ‘sawing logs’ and creep into the Widget’s room.” He stopped and leaned down to look at Buffy’s face, gauging her reaction. She shrugged.

“I know that you get up sometimes. I suppose I know that it’s not to use the bathroom. But I never really thought much about what you do. You are a vampire, you know, creature of the night and all that.” She mirrored his earlier move and craned her neck a bit to look at him. “Didn’t seem so strange to me. But I don’t know what this is about me ‘sawing logs.’ I do not snore.”

“I really should bring a recorder up here to catch you ‘not snoring’ on tape!” he retorted. “But whether or not you snore, I do get up. And when I do, I go into Joy’s room, and I look at her. I just stand there by her bed and watch her sleep. She’s a wonder when she’s awake, but when she’s sleeping I can just fill myself up with loving her, and I am so supremely happy.” Despite his words Spike’s expression remained serious as he spoke.

“Then I come back in here, and I do the same thing, watching you sleep. I didn’t think I could be any happier than that – knowing both of you are safe and both of you are mine.” Buffy could here the emotion choking Spike’s voice. She brought his hand to her lips, kissed it, and then looked up expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

“But this, this…development is something I’ve never dreamed of – not in my wildest imaginings -- I don’t know if I can bear it. I already have so much to lose. It scares me more than any demon I’ve ever encountered. There it is: a Master Vampire brought down by the unqualified love of a little chit who still has trouble tying her shoelaces.”

“Okay, now I get it.” Buffy sighed, “I love you.”

“I know,” Spike said, his tone teasing, “That’s kind of what I’ve been talking about.”

Buffy laughed and snuggled even closer, “You know you’re going to have to talk to her tomorrow?”

“Yup, I have to figure out how to get her to give up on this trip idea.”

“Yeah, well good luck with that, I’ve never seen her like this. You’ve got your work cut out for you!”

“As you know, sweetling, I can be very persuasive if I want to be. Right now, for example, I’m going to persuade you to get rid of this nightgown,” Spike smirked. “Unless you’d like me to take care of it myself…”

“No, we’ll have none of that, thank you. I don’t need another shredded item of clothing.” Buffy wiggled away from Spike’s side long enough to slip the offending garment over her head, dropping it to the floor before she snuggled back under the covers. Spike joined her, pulling her body close to his as they both sunk into the pillows.

“Ah, better, much better,” he murmured into her hair. Spike inhaled deeply, filling his nostrils with Buffy’s scent as he slid his hand down the curve of her back and just below the firm swell of her bum.

“This here, this is a lovely spot,” he said, giving her bottom a gentle squeeze. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you how much I like this particular little handful, right here.” He followed another squeeze with a caress that pulled Buffy’s pelvis flush with his. She moaned softly when he increased the pressure, his erection trapped between their bodies, as he used one hand on each of her butt cheeks to slowly rotate her flat little belly against the hard length of his cock.

Buffy pulled Spike’s face down to hers, bruising his lips with the force of her kiss. It never failed to surprise her just how quickly he could turn her to mush. A few husky words and a little petting was usually all it took. She could feel the moisture pooling in the folds of her vulva and knew his sensitive nose had probably already registered her arousal. Confirmation came only a moment later when she heard him growl and felt his lips latch onto her nipple. He sucked the smooth flesh hungrily until it was pebbled in a pert peak, releasing just long enough to slather it with saliva, then licked up and down the slippery point with slow, teasing laps of his tongue. His fingers had just begun to spread Buffy’s fragrant lubricant over the external lips of her vagina when her body suddenly stiffened and she began to push him away.

“Crapdoodle!” she exclaimed, in frustration. “I’m having another hot flash.”

“S’okay, baby,” Spike crooned, pulling away just enough to separate his skin from hers. He’d discovered early on that when a hot flash hit while making love his body wouldn’t provide any relief until he’d let it cool off a bit. “Gives me a chance just to look at you.”

He removed the covers while taking a deep breath so he could blow cool air over her. A fine sheen of perspiration reflected the flickering candlelight on the surface of her skin. He gathered her hair from over her shoulders, pulling it gently away from where it had begun to stick to her face. Spike blew a cool breath over her shiny collarbones and across her throat, and then descended to send another breath over her breasts. Buffy’s nipples tightened into points, and she sighed as she stretched her arms and legs out to maximize contact with the cool breeze. Spike continued down her body, blowing gently across her ribs, her overheated stomach, down her thighs and calves, even sending a puff of air over the instep of each foot. The whole time he carefully avoided touching her, more than content just to look.

“Better now, love?” he asked, as he returned to the top of the bed, lying down next to her, still without touching.

“Yes, sweetheart, thank you, that is so much better.”

“No need to thank me, pet,” he said, smiling lasciviously. “But I think you’d better be warned. You’ve given me some ideas that could reverse the recent cooling trend.”

“No problem, Mr. Climate Change Man, I’m all ready for some global warming.”

“Good, I’m going to begin by bringing my cool front in contact with your high pressure zone.”

“Mmmmmmm, sounds yummy!”

****************
Joy roused from her slumber and sat up in her bed. She looked over to where a nightlight illuminated the cat mask perched on her bedside table. She reached over, turning it slightly to one side so it faced her. Settling back into her pillows, she smiled as she gazed at the mask, then closed her eyes and resumed her dreams.

Tbc…..

I've created a yahoo list for people who want to know about updates. You can subscribe at: satindollie-subscribe@yahoogroups.com

The next morning Spike and Buffy dragged their mattress back onto its platform before sharing a shower. “Hey, Fang Boy,” Buffy said as she soaped his back, “how did our bed end up across the room anyway?” He reached behind him to slide his arm between their bodies, gently tangling his fingers in the soft thatch of curls between her legs.

“That was your idea, love,” he said. “Something to do with getting better traction by planting your feet against the base of the bed. What, don’t you remember?”

“It’s all a little blurry, actually. I think you bewitched me!”

Spike turned all the way around, pretending to be shocked. “I’ve never used a thrall on you, Buffy, and I never will. That would be cheating. Besides, I prefer to use my incredible good looks and acrobatic tongue to bend you to my will.” When Spike licked his lips and raised his eyebrow seductively Buffy had to laugh.

“Well, you bent me alright! I think you nearly broke me,” she said as she returned to the task of applying a coat of slippery suds to Spike’s chiseled chest. “You drive me so crazy. It’s a good thing we’ve removed all but the essentials from our bedroom. I can only imagine the breakage if we had any other furniture in there.”

“I don’t suppose you really care to recall, love,” Spike reminded her, “but you systematically destroyed all of the now absent nonessentials to which you are referring. I agree, however. I don’t need anything in our bedroom but you and a comfy bed.”

Spike let the shower spray rinse the last of the soap from his chest. He then tipped his chin down to catch Buffy’s lips in a kiss as he gripped her firmly by the waist, pulling her body against his. She smiled, placed her hands firmly on his shoulders for leverage and lifted herself effortlessly off the floor of the shower, wrapping her legs around his body for support. “Looks like you can do all right without the bed,” she purred into his ear.

Spike grinned, bouncing her a little higher until the tip of his cock was pressed against her slick pussy lips. She sighed, gave a small wiggle, and they both gasped out loud as he slid in up to the hilt. “You, my dear, are all I’ll ever need,” he said, as he began to thrust slowly in and out, the warm water washing over them.


********
Later, the two clean and sated lovers descended together to the basement. “I know Dawn said we should go ahead and sleep in,” Buffy said. “She and Joy had some sort of project to work on. But I think we may have ‘slept in’ a little longer than she expected.”

“No worries, love. Dawn and the Widget never have any trouble finding things to keep them busy.” Spike assured her. “I just hope Dawn hasn’t pumped her up any more about Halloween. It’s going to be enough of a let down for her as it is.”

Joy looked up as soon as Buffy and Spike entered the room. She was sitting on the carpet surrounded by colorful scraps of cloth. “Come on Mommy,” she called, “you can help put them in rainbow order!” Buffy looked at Spike who rolled his eyes. Neither one could quite believe how Joy had taken to putting everything she could into rainbow order. She always knew if anyone used her markers because they invariably failed to return them to the correct sequence of colors. It would have worried them, but Joy didn’t seem to get overly compulsive about anything else.

Buffy joined Joy on the carpet and tried to help her sort the fabric scraps. Joy corrected her when she got it wrong, patiently moving the misplaced piece to another location.

Dawn was sitting at the sewing machine with what Buffy recognized as a pair of Joy’s pajamas. “Hey, you two,” she laughed. “I was beginning to think you were never coming down!” She held up her handiwork with a flourish. “Look what we did to Joy-Joy’s jammies.” Buffy stared in amazement. Dawn had transformed the striped pajamas into a one-piece kitty costume, complete with tail.

“Wow! Dawnie, I’m never going to get used to how talented you are with a sewing machine.” Buffy exclaimed.

“Oh, Buffy, this was easy. I’ve had so much experience making costumes out of practically nothing this was no challenge at all. The pant legs were really loose so we just made them a little narrower and I used the extra fabric for the tail.”

“Can I try on my costume Auntie Dawnie?” Joy asked. “I want Papa and Mommy to see how I’m going to look for Hall’ween!”

‘Well, so much for an easy letdown,’ Spike thought.

“Sure, Joy-Joy.” Dawn replied, “Let’s show them what a cute kitty you’ll make!”

As Dawn helped Joy into her costume she explained to Buffy and Spike that they would have to imagine the white gloves she would be wearing. “When I get home I’ll find a pair that will fit Joy,” Dawn said. “I must have a dozen pairs in my costume closet. It’s just a matter of tracking them down.”

Buffy and Spike exchanged looks. This was not of the good. Dawn was clearly as convinced as Joy that she would be in California for Halloween. But, before they could do or say anything to correct the misunderstanding, Joy peeked out from behind her aunt, costume on and mask in place.

“Meow, meow!” she said. “Do you recognize me, Papa? Can you tell it’s me?”

It was impossible not to smile at the adorable striped kitty looking up at them. Spike scooped Joy up in his arms and swung her around. “Of course I know it’s you Widget. But I bet you could fool your friends from school. It’s an excellent costume, very cat-like!”

Buffy moved close beside Spike. “Hey that kitty cat looks a lot like our little girl. I wonder if the kitty is ticklish in the same places as our Joy-Joy.” Buffy gave Joy a quick tickle under her ribs and got a squealing giggle in response. “Okay little kitty, you stay here and play with Papa while Auntie Dawnie and I start making breakfast. I hope you like waffles because I feel like making waffles.”

Buffy pointed her finger at her sister. “You come with me. I’d like some help with breakfast and we need to talk.” Dawn could tell there was no point in resisting the summons. She shrugged at Spike and Joy and followed Buffy to the door. Just before leaving the room Buffy gave Spike a meaningful look. “You know what you need to do, Fang Boy. Get to it.”

Buffy spent the next half hour explaining to Dawn that a trip to California for Halloween was a non-starter. Spike was absolutely adamant about limiting portal travel to essential business, he and Buffy had just returned from an exhausting mission and needed time at home to decompress, Joy was too young to trick-or-treat, and the candy would ruin her teeth. Dawn was disappointed but she accepted Buffy’s edict after only a few attempts at counter arguments. Ultimately there was no contest; Buffy and Spike were Joy’s parents, she was just her aunt. The aunt, Dawn thought ruefully, who had inadvertently created a situation that was destined to sadden her beloved niece.

When Buffy heard Spike and Joy approaching the kitchen she steeled herself; her least favorite part of parenting was facing an unhappy child. It always felt like a knife turning in her guts when she witnessed Joy in tears—an experience that could only be worse if she had any part in causing the distress. Joy was going to be deeply disappointed, and Buffy wasn’t looking forward to seeing her little girl miserable. Dawn knew that Spike was breaking the bad news to Joy downstairs. So they both busied themselves with breakfast preparations and tried to look nonchalant as the two approached.

Tbc…

Buffy and Dawn were equally surprised when Joy bounded into the kitchen all smiles, but what they saw next left them speechless. Right behind the smiling kitty, and holding her by the hand, was a master vampire in full game face. The fact he was grinning only added to the bizarre vision before them.

“Look Mommy! Look Auntie Dawnie, it’s Papa’s costume,” Joy shouted with glee. “Now you can see how we’ll both look for Hall’ween!”

Spike sat down at his place at the breakfast table and pulled Joy into his lap. “We had a talk,” he announced, “me and the Widget. And it seems we’ll be going to California for Halloween.”

Buffy gave Spike a look that said, ‘I can’t wait to get you alone, and not for the usual reasons.’ But all she said out loud was, “Well, I guess we know who calls the shots around here!”

Joy sat up tall in her father’s lap, holding her hands in front of her mouth like paws. “Meow, meow, meow,” she said, “Do you know what that means, Auntie Dawnie? It means I want waffles with lots of syrup.”

“Good thing we have lots of waffles and plenty of syrup then!” Dawn answered. “But first let’s take off your costume so you don’t get it all sticky.” Dawn helped Joy off Spike’s lap and led her away from the table to remove her kitty suit.

Buffy had come around from behind the counter to stand next to Spike’s chair. She leaned down and planted a kiss on his bumpy forehead. “You too, Fang Boy, off with the ‘costume’. You may be more Big Softie than Big Bad these days, but that is not a breakfasty face you’ve got going on!”

“It’s okay, Papa,” Joy called over from the sitting area where Dawn had succeeded in stripping her down to her panties and under shirt. “I have to take off my costume so you can too.”

Spike tried to shift back to his human face, but he was laughing too hard. “At least I won’t be left in nothing but my knickers!” he sputtered out.

“Good thing too,” Buffy whispered, “seeing as you don’t wear any.”

“Come on Joy-Joy,” Dawn said. “Let’s run up to your room for some play clothes. I don’t want you to turn into a popsicle sitting down here in your undies.”

Dawn scooped Joy into her arms. “Keep those waffles hot, Buff,” she called over her shoulder as she carried her giggling bundle upstairs. “We’ll be right back.”

As soon as they were gone Buffy turned to Spike. “So, Mr. Tough Guy, what happened?”

“Oi! Buffy, it was terrible. I’ve never seen worse. At first I thought she was taking it so well. I explained and she listened and I really thought for a minute she understood and it would be alright. But then I saw that her jaw was locked down tight and she was holding her lips steady by sheer force. Buffy, she put on her ‘Slayer’ face. I could practically see the wheels turning in her head. She was determined to suck it up even though she was devastated. I’m glad I twigged to it in time. It was something in her eyes. It would have killed you to see it. I had turned to come upstairs, and I had my back to her for all of two seconds. She didn’t realize that I could see her reflection in the mirror. I saw her clench her little fists and her lower lip shot out. Then a tremor went through her, like she was trying to shake something off, the lip went back in and her eyes went flat or blank -- I can’t even describe it. That’s when she tugged on the back of my shirt and asked if she could still keep her costume. And I just couldn’t do it to her. I couldn’t let her try to be so adult when she’s so little just because I’m a selfish git for not wanting to take her trick-or-treating. And she’s only going to be four once, and I’ll make sure she brushes her teeth whenever she eats candy. I promise.”

Buffy stopped him from continuing by putting her fingers over his lips. “It’s okay honey. I get it. She pulled out the big guns and you buckled. I’m not sure I wouldn’t have done the same.”

Spike reached around Buffy’s body to pull her closer, resting his head on her stomach. “So you’re not mad at me, because I gave in to her again?”

Buffy laughed, “No I’m not mad. But I think I might love you even more.”

“So you’ll come with us?” he asked, looking up at her. “You’ll come along when we go?”

“Yeah, I’ll go with you,” Buffy answered, ruffling his hair with her hands. “I have to make sure you don’t let any other four-year-olds wrap you around their little fingers.”

********
After breakfast they all gave Dawn hugs and she got ready to portal back to California. Even though Spike, Buffy, and Joy would be arriving in two days, Dawn needed to be back right away for rehearsals. “I can’t very well tell my students I went to London for a day and a half, so I’m going to have to come up with an explanation for my absence.”

“Just tell them you came to see me,” Joy suggested. “You don’t have to tell them where I live.”

Dawn laughed. “No, I suppose I don’t, but they’ll figure it out when they meet you.”

Joy looked confused. “How will they know if we don’t tell them?”

“Um, well, I think they’ll notice that you have an accent, Joy-Joy! You know, you talk different.”

“That’s silly. I don’t have an accent! You and Mommy talk funny. Papa and I talk proper.”

They all got a good laugh out of that. Then Dawn walked over to where she had established the portal, appropriately enough, in the entry hall. “Did you file a travel plan with the Council this time?” Spike asked, just a touch of suspicion in his voice.

“Yes, Big Brother-in-Law, I did!” Dawn answered, rolling her eyes. “I told you I was wrong to portal here without following the protocols. I won’t make that mistake again, cross my heart.”

“Glad to here it, Platelet. I don’t fancy losing you between dimensions.”

“Okay, then,” Dawn said, “I guess I’ll be off. Oh, wait, I nearly forgot! When I called the Council they had heard from Giselle by inter-dimensional memo. She said she’ll be back by the end of the week, local time. Apparently the family emergency is being handled, no details though. I hope you find out what happened. Her demon species is wacky, strange, and interesting.”

“What, you think it’s strange they're born in pods of eighteen with exactly nine identical male and female siblings?” Spike asked feigning surprise.

“No, I think it’s strange that they mate in threes with two boys from one pod and one girl from another.” Dawn replied.

“Unless it’s two girls and one boy!” Buffy volunteered.

“Yeah,” Dawn sighed, “like I said, fill me in if you find out more about the emergency.”

“Okay, now I really gotta go!” she said. “Bye for now. I’ll see you on Halloween!” With that she stepped into the open portal, waving as she disappeared from sight.

Tbc….

Spike and Buffy had only just begun to clear away the dishes when Dawn called from California to report her safe arrival, roughly seven minutes after walking through the portal. By the time they finished sorting out the kitchen from breakfast, it was nearly noon. Through the tinted skylights they could see it was a perfect day for an outing -- thick clouds blocking any potential sunshine. Wearing jackets against the chill, and carrying a big black umbrella just in case, Spike and Buffy spent the balance of the day out of doors taking Joy to visit all of her favorite parks and playgrounds.

*******

“She’s been tucked in, read to, had her drink and now I will deliver the extra kiss for Papa,” Buffy announced as she leaned over to place a chaste kiss on Spike’s cheek.

“Thought she’d be completely knackered after swinging on every swing set, sliding on every slide and climbing every bloody jungle gym in London,” Spike responded.

“Yeah, well I think she’s out for the count now,” Buffy sighed as she climbed into bed beside Spike. “But she’s never one to give up without a fight!”

“Takes after her Mum, then,” Spike said, grinning as she snuggled up to his side.

“Maybe so, but I don’t feel like fighting now.”

“S’alright with me, love. Didn’t have fighting in mind.”

Buffy looked thoughtful for a moment and then sat up, “Good, but before we explore what it was you did have in mind, I need to tell you something.”

“Uh oh! Sounds ominous,” Spike said, searching Buffy’s face for signs of trouble. “What did I do?”

“Calm down, Big Bad, you didn’t do anything. I’ve wanted to tell you all day, but I needed to wait until we could be alone.”

“Mmmm, so it’s kinky then, is it?”

Buffy punched Spike in the arm without any real intent to hurt him. “Stop it! Just let me tell you, okay?”

“Alright, it must be bloody important. Go on, then, get on w’it, I’m listening.”

“It’s about what you said about Joy when you tried to tell her we weren't going to California for Halloween,” Buffy began, steeling herself for what she needed to say. “That wasn't Joy's ‘Slayer face.’ I’ve seen the expression you described: the jaw, the fists, and even the tremor. She didn’t get that from me.” Buffy stopped, looked down and when she looked up again her eyes were brimming with tears. She reached her hand out to cup Spike’s cheek and tried to smile. The result was sad but hopeful. “It’s the way you looked when I used to tell you I couldn't love you. It’s the way you looked when I said you were a monster not a man. That you were beneath me.” The tears were falling now and Buffy stopped to wipe them away with the back of her hand. “That’s how you looked when I hurt you because I couldn't admit what I felt. You did the same thing Joy was trying to do, because you loved me so much, you would suck it up and take whatever I dished out. Just like Joy, you pretended you were fine with it.”

“Buffy, stop it! You don’t need to do this. We’ve talked about this…”

“No! You have to let me finish. Please, Spike, I’ve been waiting all day. I need to say this. You need to hear it!”

“I don’t need to hear anything. I know what happened. I was there, remember?”

“I knew you weren't fine, if I'd only been able to admit it to myself. And I wish…I wish I had done what you did today. I wish I had let myself admit I was only hurting you because I was selfish. I was cruel because I knew what you meant to me, but I wouldn’t let on. I was too much of a coward to tell you until it was too late.”

“Buffy, please stop. We've been through this, it's in the past, it's over. I've forgiven you a million times, you know, like you've forgiven me. Remember, sweetheart, I wasn't a saint either! You do remember what I did, don’t you?”

“What you tried to do, you mean, yeah. But I also remember how I tormented you, how I used you. I remember how I lied to you! What you did was nothing compared to that.” Buffy was sobbing now, her body quaking.

Spike scooped her up in his arms and held her as she cried. “Are we done now, darling? Can we stop this now? Can I please just tell you how lucky I feel every day to have you? Do you know I thank the powers-that-be every single bloody day for letting us have this life together? What we went through was like the fire that tempers a steel blade, Buffy. We’re stronger for it. Don’t you see that? I love you and Joy more than anything -- more than blood, more than my unlife. I wouldn’t last a sunrise without you. You know that don’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess I do,” Buffy answered. “I didn’t mean to go all ‘Buffy the snot monster’ on you, I just couldn’t let you think she got all that strength from me, you know. She got it from you.”

“Okay, I got the message. Now can we talk about what I was thinking before I was so rudely interrupted?”

Buffy reached for a tissue and blew her nose loudly. “Only if includes several hours of you letting me show you how much I love you,” she finally answered.

“That’s a deal, then.”

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

Waking to low, rumbling vibrations, Buffy instinctively pulled a pillow over her head and braced for what she thought must be an earthquake. It was several seconds before she realized the tremors originated not from the movement of tectonic plates but with her mate. “What are you laughing about at this hour?” Buffy whined. “You’re shaking the whole bed. I thought it was an earthquake.”

Spike tried to answer but he was laughing too hard to speak. “What?” Buffy asked again. “What is so funny?”

“An earthquake? This is London, love. No earthquakes here. I guess you can take the girl out of California, but you can’t take the California out of the girl.”

“Very funny! Now what’s with the early morning giggles? And you better tell me quick, or I’ll give you something to laugh about!” Buffy flexed her fingers and leered threateningly at Spike who, despite many years of doing evil as a form of overcompensation, had proven extremely ticklish.

“Okay, okay, I’m telling. Put down those tickle fingers!” Buffy obliged and then raised her eyebrows, waiting to be enlightened.

“Remember the ceramic hand print Joy made for us?” Spike began. “Well, now you’ve got two more. Except they’re yours and you’ve imprinted them in the bedroom wall.”

“Huh?” Buffy said as she sat up only to witness Spike once again doubled over with hilarity and gesturing over his head.

“Look,” he said, barely controlling his mirth. “You’ve left your mark.”

Buffy followed Spike’s eyes to the place where their bed abutted the wall. About six inches above the mattress and deeply embossed into the plaster were two handprints.
Buffy carefully placed her hands over the impressions, matching her fingers and palms with the shapes. “Well,” she said with a sigh, “they appear to be my size.”

Spike rolled over, sitting back on his haunches to join her in inspecting the recent addition to the décor. “Do you remember what we were doing when this happened?” he asked.

“Oh yeah, it was memorable alright!” Buffy replied, dropping down to lie on her stomach, she placed her hands over the imprints, pressing back from this position she elevated her hips from the bed. “Ring any bells?”

“Whoa, Buffy,” Spike moaned, his voice suddenly husky. “Unless you are looking for a replay of last night’s most memorable activities, you don’t want to be taking that pose with me in the room.”

Buffy laughed and flipped over to look into his eyes, now dark with lust. “No time for even an instant replay, Fang Boy! Joy will be up by now and it’s probably only a matter of seconds before she demands breakfast.”

“Right then, no replay,” Spike agreed, “But you did give me another idea.” Before Buffy had time to evade him, Spike pinned her to the bed and commenced to tickle. Only her Slayer abilities saved her from a long and merciless attack. Buffy used her powerful legs to flip Spike onto his back and began to return the favor, both of them gasping and laughing so hard they almost missed Joy’s knock on their door.

Knocking was a big issue for Buffy and Spike. Neither one was comfortable with the idea of placing a lock on their door, yet nor were they interested in risking their daughter witnessing some of the amusements that went on when said door was closed. So, as soon as Joy could climb out of her crib, Spike and Buffy had been teaching her that it’s polite to knock before entering. To reinforce the lesson, they knocked on her door, and asked if they could come in, even if the door was open and she had called them. Spike’s vampire hearing was a help. He usually heard Joy approach, even though she might be barefoot on thick carpets. And both vampire and Slayer reflexes and speed had saved them from giving Joy a glimpse of their marital relations on the rare occasion when she had forgotten to knock. When Giselle was available, Spike and Buffy would sometimes arrange for her to bring Joy downstairs for breakfast so they could “sleep in.” Giselle knew sleeping had nothing do with it, but was perfectly unfazed by this aspect of her duties. In Giselle’s absence, however, Buffy and Spike found they had to restrict conjugal activities to the hours when Joy was sound asleep.

When Spike heard the knock he stopped laughing long enough to say, “It’s the Widget!” Buffy barely had time to withdraw her tickle fingers before he was across the room, pants on, and had opened the door. “Good morning, Widget!” he crooned as he swung her up into the air. “Did you have sweet dreams?”

“I don’t know, Papa. I don’t remember,” she answered, a serious look on her face. “I wanted to dream about Hall’ween. Maybe I didn’t because I don’t know what it’s like.”

“Well you’ll know all about it soon enough, Widget,” Spike reminded her. “We leave tomorrow.”

“I know, Papa. I already packed my costume.” Taking advantage of her position sitting on his hip, Joy ran her fingers through Spike’s hair. Like her mother, she liked to see his hair tousled and unruly. “Look Papa, I’m making your hair all curly!”

“I’ll have to take your word for it, Widget, unless you want to take my picture. Remember? No reflection.”

“I know Papa, because you’re a vampire,” Joy said. “It’s too bad you can’t look in the mirror. You’re the handsomest papa at my school. I know because all the mommies look at you.”

Spike smiled, “How do you know that’s why they look at me? Maybe they’re looking because they know I have the prettiest and the smartest girl in the school.”

“That’s silly. You know I’m not as smart as Emily. She can count to 200. I can only count to 100.”

“Hey, you two!” Buffy interjected. “Can we take the question of who is the prettiest and who is the smartest downstairs where we can all have breakfast? I’m hungry!”

“Yeah, Widget, I think your mum is pretty smart too, breakfast sounds good. What do you say?”

“I’m hungry, too. Let’s have breakfast!” Spike set Joy down on the floor and started for the door. “Come on, Widget, you can help me make some tea while Mommy brushes her teeth.”

Joy reached for Spike’s hand and was about to follow him when she stopped suddenly and looked past Buffy where she was sitting up in the bed. “Mommy, what happened to the wall?”

Tbc….

“Don’t you think making both waffles and pancakes for the Widget was laying it on a bit thick, love?” Spike asked.

“Maybe a little, but I was desperate,” Buffy replied, “Your explanation wasn’t all that plausible. I was just going for anything that might distract her. I didn’t want her to think about it too much. She may be only four, but she’s pretty darn bright, that girl. Given even half a chance, she’d have started asking more questions about the handprints in the wall. I couldn’t face that.”

“Well it may not have been plausible enough for you, darling,” Spike drawled, “but at least I came up with something. You were just sitting there doing your goldfish imitation. You know, mouth opening and closing and your eyes all big and saucer like.”

“Stop it. I know, I know. I froze. But, hey, exercising? What did you say? ‘Your Mum was doing her exercises and, you know, Slayer and all, didn’t know her own strength, did she? Next thing we knew – handprints in the plaster.’”

“I do not sound like that! God, Buffy, after all these years you should be able to do a better British accent.”

“Never mind my accent. Where did you get that cover story?”

“What, you don’t remember?” Spike looked at her, both eyebrows at the high water mark. “I know I’ll never forget it. It was way back in the Sunnyhell days. Xander barged in on us when we were, you know, busy. But you were invisible. So I told him I was exercising. In the bed. Naked. Oddly enough, he seemed to buy it.”

“Oh my god! I do remember. I was having so much fun touching you and kissing you while you were trying to act all normal. It was hysterical!”

“Oh, yeah? Well if I recall correctly you weren’t laughing a little later when I kicked you out.”

Buffy pouted, her lower lip sticking way out. “I think that’s enough Memory Lane for me today,” she said. “That must be why I forgot the whole thing. You didn’t want me…”

“Not unless I could have the whole package,” Spike corrected, his expression more serious now. “At least that’s what I thought at the moment. Never could resist you for long.”

Spike reached out and pulled Buffy into his arms. He kissed the top of her head and held her close. “That wasn’t a really happy time for either of us, kitten. I’m sorry I brought it up.” Lifting Buffy’s chin with his fingers, Spike pressed his lips against hers in a tender kiss. “Let’s go get the Widget packed. I still have to get my things together tonight, and I still need to file our travel plan.”

“But they’ll all be gone at this hour,” Buffy said, looking up. “It’s after seven. You know nobody stays late at the Council on a Thursday night. It’s pub night.”

“No worries, love, I’ll FAX it over. It’ll be there when they arrive in the morning. We don’t leave until ten. I just hope they aren’t all too hung over to log it properly!”

“FAX! You’ve got to be kidding. Nobody FAXes anything anymore!”

“I know it’s not exactly cutting edge technology, but the protocol says you can file a travel plan by phone, with a member of the dimensional travel staff, or by FAX. They aren’t there now, so I’ll do it by FAX.”

“Geez, Spike! Since when did Mr. Big Bad turn into Mr. By the Book?” Buffy said, taking advantage of her close proximity to sneak in a tickle.

“I don’t know,” Spike answered, grabbing both of her wrists with one hand and effectively immobilizing her. “Must have been sometime before Ms. Buffy the Vampire Slayer became Ms. Tickled by a Vampire!”

“No, no, Spike, please don’t,” Buffy begged, doing her all to appear adorable and helpless.

Spike was unfazed. “Next time maybe you’ll think twice about dishing it out if you can’t take it in return, little missy.” Spike responded, an evil grin spread across his face.

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

“She’s asleep?” Spike asked when Buffy came back from Joy’s room.

“Yup, she’s sawing logs this time,” Buffy replied, slipping under the covers next to him. “She was just wound up. I had to tell her about the cheese.”

“The cheese?” Spike asked. “What is this about cheese?”

“Oh, come on, you must know about the cheese!” Buffy said. “It’s the thing I do when Joy can’t fall asleep. You know, we’re going to have a picnic on the beach and the piece of cheese falls out of the picnic basket and then it melts into the sand. I can’t believe you’ve never heard about it before. My Mom used to tell me about the cheese when I couldn’t sleep. It always worked on me and it always works on Joy.”

When Buffy looked up she discovered that Spike had a very amused look on his face.

“What?” she asked. “What’s so funny?”

“You, love,” he said, his eyes full of merriment. “You and all the Summers women. Bloody oddballs every single one of you from Joyce on down through the ages. But very cute and, might I say, very sexy too.”

“You think my Mom was sexy?” Buffy asked, looking sceptical.

“Well, yes, she was actually. Although I was referring to you, love. But I digress. Let’s not hear anymore about the cheese just now. I don’t want to fall asleep before I have a chance to execute some other plans.”

“Oh, and what sort of plans would that be?” Buffy asked, sliding closer and draping one leg over his.

“My plans involve getting rid of this nightgown, first off,” Spike pulled the hem of Buffy’s chemise up and over her head in one fluid motion. “Then I think I’d like to revisit some of my favorite spots starting right here.” Spike dipped his head to take one of Buffy’s nipples between his lips. Buffy watched his eyelids close as his face took on an expression of deep concentration. Then his eyes fluttered open again, and he looked into her eyes, smiling around the nipple still in his mouth. He tugged a little until it firmed in his mouth, and then he circled it with his tongue making it all shiny. Buffy arched her back and sighed with pleasure, their eyes locked again when Spike looked up again.

“Hello, beautiful,” he said. “Much as I love the way you smell, and taste, and feel, I don’t think I could ever get used to not seeing you, too.” Spike pushed a loose lock of hair away from Buffy’s face as he spoke, putting it behind her ear. “’Specially your face, love. I think I’m as hard as I can get and then I see your face contort with pleasure and it makes me harder still. That and hearing you moan, or hiss, or scream. Does it for me, it does. So I guess I’m not just a visual kind of guy, I’m big with the auditory too.”

“Yeah, I’d miss seeing you too,” Buffy agreed. “But I’d miss your voice even more. I used to think the way you said my name should have been illegal. It was just too sexy. And it made me mad that you could get my motor running just by talking when I supposedly hated you with every fiber of my being!”

“Oh I enjoyed that, I did!” Spike laughed. “I liked to sneak up on you and listen to your pulse before I’d say ‘Hello, cutie!’ Your heart would jump like a jackrabbit every bleedin’ time. Gave me hope, you know, that one day you’d let me in. If I could get that much of a rise out of you with just a couple words, I figured it’d be lots of fun to do a bit more. And I was so right!”

“Yes, well, a bit more would be appreciated right now,” Buffy cooed as seductively as she could. “Talking about that melting cheese made me a little sleepy too. I wouldn’t want to drift off before you had your way with me.”

“Don’t need to ask twice, m’lady,” Spike replied, nuzzling her belly as he moved down her torso. “That was just the first stop on my tour of all the best places.” Grazing his lips across her navel he descended from there to press his nose into the tangle of dark curls forming a neat triangle between Buffy’s legs. He stopped, inhaling deeply.

Looking up at her again Spike sighed, “This, love, is a perfume unmatched in its power. Your cunny’s aroma is an intoxicant of unparalleled potency. I swear I could come from your fragrance alone.”

“You keep talking like that and I’ll join you!” Buffy said, squirming in pleasant anticipation.

“Fun as that might be, love, I see no reason to deny my sense of taste,” he replied, slipping two fingers just inside where he could stroke her g-spot. Simultaneously, he extended the tip of his tongue to flick Buffy’s clit, earning a shiver that raced from her pedicured toes to the crown of her head. “Or neglect your delightfully responsive sense of touch.”

“Guhhhhh!” was the only answer Buffy could manage.


Tbc….

Changeling
Chapter Ten

Spike went to Joy’s room early Halloween morning to wake her for their trip, and he was surprised when his knock wasn’t greeted with her usual sleepy voice.

“Hi, Papa!” she chirped happily when he opened the door. “I’m all ready!”

“I can see that you are, Widget!” Spike had to laugh. Joy was fully dressed in her travel clothes: jeans and T-shirt topped by a hooded sweatshirt. She’d even put on her own sneakers. Although, he noticed, her shoes were on the wrong feet. “Do you want some help with your hair?”

“Yes! Papa, which barrettes do you think I should wear?”

After deliberating over the relative merits of yellow barrettes with daisies versus pink barrettes with sparkles, Joy decided on plain red ones because they wouldn’t stick up and interfere with her cat mask later on. Then Spike sat behind Joy on her bed to brush her long brown hair into two pig-tails which he fastened with red elastics to match the barrettes. As usual, Joy enjoyed the ritual of having her hair brushed, humming to herself as Spike carefully untangled the knots one by one and then drew the brush through her hair in a deliberate, rhythmic way that was always relaxing.

“Papa,” Joy said, as she stood up to admire Spike’s handiwork in her mirror. “What does ‘sedated’ mean?”

“Sedated? Why do you need to…?” Spike’s voice trailed off as he looked at Joy, first in confusion and then with sudden clarity. “Widget, you’ve been listening to my music haven’t you? I thought that tune you were humming sounded familiar!”

“Yes, Papa, I listen to it all the time,” Joy answered. “Don’t you remember? You made a copy for me. So what does it mean?”

“The bloke who wrote the song was worn out from traveling all over,” Spike began. “I’m not sure I can really explain what the song means,” Spike began, “but sedated means sleepy, like you feel after a bath and a cup of hot milk.”

“That’s so silly, Papa. Who wants to feel sleepy?”

“Well, I don’t’ think the Ramones had four-year olds in mind when they wrote that tune, Widget.”

“Why not? You always say that I’m old enough to rock and roll.”

“And you are!” Spike answered, clipping her last barrette into place. “But punk music is all about the beat, Widg. You don’t need to worry about the words to enjoy it. Now, if you’re satisfied with your coiffure, little one, we should start breakfast. Your Mum is bound to wake up any minute, and she’ll be looking for her coffee.”

Joy smiled at her reflection in the mirror. “You did a good job, Papa. You even got my barrettes straight this time.” Then her expression was suddenly serious. “Can you see me in the mirror, Papa?”

“Yes, Widg, I can see you.” Spike replied. “I can see you and your mischievous grin. What are you…?” Before Spike could finish asking his question Joy leapt into his arms.

Squealing happily, Joy clung to her father as she gazed into the mirror. “So you can see me floating in the air?”

“Yes, I can see you.”

“Can you float me downstairs?”

“Yes, Widget.”

“And after breakfast do we get to go to California to see Auntie Dawnie for Hall’ween?”

“Yes, at 10 o’clock.”

Spike waited for a beat. Silence.

“Any more questions?

“No, that’s all.”

“Good, shall we float then?”


*********

Willow tapped her foot outside the door of the Watchers' Council, holding a cardboard tray full of coffees. She’d long since stopped using magic for trivial things, but she thought wistfully of the “bad old days” as she waited for the elderly doorman to make his way slowly across the wide entry hall to open the door for her.

“Thanks so much,” she said as he ushered her into the vestibule. “My badge is in my purse. I’ll get it for you as soon as I put these down.”

“No need, Ms Rosenberg,” he answered. “I know who you are.”

“Yes, but what if I am using a glamour to disguise my appearance? What if I’m not really who I appear to be?”

He chuckled. “No worries, Miss, you installed powerful wards years ago to detect glamours of that sort. Otherwise I wouldn’t be so foolish as to let you pass without inspecting your ID. Go on up, now. I’m sure they’ll be happy to see those coffees. I gather pub night was particularly festive.”

Willow smiled. “Festive is one way to describe it. It dissolved into the usual competition about who’s faced the nastiest demon while working for the Council. It was torture to keep my mouth shut.”

“Then why didn’t you speak up, Miss?” the doorman asked.

“Because I didn’t want to win again,” she explained. “I’ve purchased more than my share of rounds. I figured I’d let someone else have the honors for a change.”

“Good thinking, Miss. Shall I ring for the lift?”

“Yes, thank you, I’d better get up there. I doubt they’ll accomplish anything until I’ve delivered the caffeine.”

“Right then, Miss. Have a good day.”

As the lift carried her to the eleventh floor, Willow happily recalled the reason she hadn’t arrived at the pub until well after the nastiest demon contest had begun. She’d worked late, again, untangling a mysterious glitch that occurred when some non-human Council staff traveled inter-dimensionally. Solving the puzzle had become a bit of an obsession and she was relieved to finally have an answer. Going to the gathering had felt like a private celebration, because she had yet to tell anyone about her solution. “Shop talk”, with the one exception of near death experiences with nasty demons, is strictly forbidden on pub night. Willow was looking forward to filling her colleagues in on the fruits of her research. She’d also need their help to devise the new protocols that would prevent future problems.

The doors of the lift opened on the eleventh floor and Willow walked down a long corridor lined with books on her way to the Dimensional Travel Division. She stopped briefly in an alcove housing staff mailboxes. Then, juggling her mail and the coffee, turned to start down the hall again. She stopped when she noticed a flashing light on the bulky, nearly antique FAX machine. A moment’s investigation revealed that the machine was out of paper. Several minutes later, she’d refilled the paper tray. Curious now about what had been Faxed, Willow pushed the button to print everything in the machine’s memory. After a lot of whirring and buzzing, the machine spat out two pieces of paper.

Remembering the rapidly cooling coffees, Willow grabbed both Faxes and headed down the hall again. The first FAX was an ad for replacement toner cartridges dated June 14th. She glanced at the second FAX long enough to see that it was an inter-dimensional travel plan and scanned down the page for the travelers names.

“Oh, dear Goddess,” Willow shrieked, as the coffees flew out of her hands.

Tbc…

For several moments Willow stood in the coffee-splashed hallway holding the crumpled FAX in her hands, her eyes unfocused. Then she took a deep breath as all thoughts of celebration melted away. It had taken weeks to untangle the mystery of the travel sickness that had been plaguing travelers of late. Longer, if you counted the time it took to recognize the problem even existed. Willow interviewed everyone who reported experiencing the outlandish effects she had eventually linked with inter-dimensional travel -- affects the Council operatives had initially diagnosed as post-traumatic stress.

After hearing a dozen accounts of oddly similar hallucinations from seriously impaired operatives, Willow came to the conclusion that something other than stress was at the root of the problem. She combed through diaries and searched for clues by analyzing every detail she could collect about the victims’ travels. She’d learned that all of the cases of acute confusion and disorientation occurred in operatives with extra-dimensional origins and only when they used the portals to travel from one location to another in this dimension, without stopping over in another dimension. The Council started recruiting agents from other dimensions once it was clear much of the business of fighting demons was going to be happening there. Although many of these new Council demon fighters looked like perfectly ordinary humans, they had distinctive genetic material with a signature unique to the dimension in which they were born. Now, many years after it had established regular missions to other dimensions, the council had quite a few Council agents who might be susceptible to travel illness. Willow alerted the potentially vulnerable Council staff and continued her research, confident that no one else would fall prey to the problem while she completed her analysis. She even explained Dawn’s apparent immunity. Although the Key came from another dimension, the monks had to combine it with elements from this dimension to create Dawn, thus she was “born” here.

As the pieces of the puzzle slowly came together, Willow was totally caught up in the search for answers. She discovered that some of the affected travelers experienced symptoms of confusion and disorientation shortly after making an inter-dimensional trip, while others felt perfectly normal for a week or longer before their symptoms began. But without exception, those who experienced a longer lag between their travel and the onset of symptoms had more severe distress.

Finally, using a magically enhanced form of hypnosis, Willow discovered the nature of the malady. The sufferers had two conflicting sets of memories for the same time period. One set was consistent with the traveler’s normal life. The second set of memories felt like a nightmare in which the dreamer was lost in an unfamiliar land, constantly struggling to find his or her way back.

It wasn’t long after making this discovery that Willow realized the extra-dimensional travelers were being split into two identical and distinct parts. One part was pulled into the space between dimensions while the other continued its travels unaware of the split. The symptoms of confusion began only when the lost half of the traveler finally found its way back to this dimension to reunite with its twin. The longer it took for the lost half to find its way, the more unpleasant memories the wanderer had accumulated. Exactly why using the portals to travel from point A to point B within our own dimension caused the split, while other inter-dimensional travel did not, remained a mystery. With time, however, Willow was confident she could crack that puzzle as well.

In fact, she had gotten rather smug about her deductive abilities. She had been looking forward to methodically walking her colleagues through each and every step of solving the puzzle while basking in their adoration and respect. Right now, however, she felt more like a failure than a heroine.

In retrospect, Willow realized, the risk to Joy was all too clear. In the same way that Dawn was of this dimension, Joy was clearly not. Spike and Buffy had conceived her while on a mission in a dimension that somehow rendered them fertile. Buffy returned home pregnant, but Joy’s life force had come together for the first time in another dimension. Willow was ashamed that the implications of Joy’s extra-dimensional origins never even crossed her mind until she saw Joy’s name on the FAXed travel plan.

Willow looked at her watch. It was 10:32 AM. With her heart in her throat she ran to the nearest phone and dialed Buffy and Spike’s number. She listened to the phone ring until the answering service picked up. After hanging up the phone, she marched into the offices of the Dimensional Travel Division.

“We have an emergency and no time to spare,” Willow announced to the six staff members nursing hangovers at desks scattered around the large room. “Conrad, I’d like your help with a locator spell. Everyone else should initiate the critical events protocol and wait for my instructions.”

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

Just before 10 AM that morning….

“What were you doing in the basement, love?” Spike asked as Buffy joined him and Joy in the entry hall.

“Oh, nothing. I just took the sheets downstairs.”

“Sheets?” Spike asked, looking confused. “You didn’t need to change the bed. The housekeepers are supposed to be here while we’re gone.”

“I know,” Buffy said, looking embarrassed. “I didn’t want them to see the state of our bed.”

“That’s their job, love!” Spike said, clearly exasperated with her. “You have enough to do saving the world every other day. You don’t need to do housework, too. Remember? That was our deal. You let the Council take care of domestic duties, I watch your back on missions, and we all live happily ever after for a long, long time.”

Buffy stole a quick glance at Joy who was busy tying her stuffed pig to the strap of her backpack. She lowered her voice to a whisper knowing that Spike could hear her and hoping that Joy wouldn’t. “Yes, sweetheart, I remember our deal. But you vamped out last night when we were…you know…and it seems you shredded another set of sheets.”

“Oh,” Spike replied, looking chastised. “Sorry ‘bout that, love.”

“No need to apologize,” Buffy said, smiling softly. “I should know by now not to nibble on your neck like that.”

“It does tend to elicit a powerful response from my demon…” Spike said with a slight leer, obviously savoring the memory. “But I still don’t see why you had to change the bed.”

“Come on, Spike! I’ve already had enough of the funny looks. It’s like everybody at the Council knows what goes on in our bedroom. It makes me uncomfortable. If I can prevent stories about us from circulating by changing our sheets, I’m all over it!”

It was Spike’s turn to smile now. “Okay, sweets, if it’s that important to you, I guess a little strategic sheet changing doesn’t void our deal. But, love, you know the housekeeping staff does our laundry. They’re still going to see the sheets.”

“Not this time, they aren’t,” Buffy said, grinning. “I already tore them up and put them in the rag basket.”

Joy, who until now had seemed thoroughly occupied, looked up from her project. “Giselle says it must be nice to be so rich you only sleep on sheets one time before you turn them into rags.”

Spike burst out laughing as Buffy covered her face with her hands. “Oh, God, I just can’t win, can I?”

Spike put his arm around Buffy and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Come on, love. It’s ten o’clock, time to go. Let’s go see your sis and get some Halloween candy!”

Buffy sighed and reached up to place a kiss on Spike’s lips. “Why do I even care what they say about us? This must be another symptom of getting old. I’m suddenly worried about what the neighbors will think. Is that it? Am I turning into my mother’s Aunt Betty?”

“I never had the pleasure of meeting Joyce’s Aunt Betty,” Spike said, more serious now, “but I’m pretty sure your worries are more about being a mum than your age I can’t say I’d like Joy to hear unkind rumors about us, but I’m not sure there’s anything we can do about it. So, I suggest we go on our little trip, have a great time, and forget about Council gossips.”

Without another word, Buffy helped Joy put on her backpack and then shouldered hers, resignation written on her face. “Come on Widget,” Spike said, lifting Joy effortlessly into his arms. “You’re traveling with me.” Holding his daughter on his hip with one arm, Spike took Buffy’s hand with the other. Moving as one, Buffy and Spike stepped into the portal and the three travelers disappeared from sight.

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

When Buffy, Spike and Joy appeared in Dawn’s living room only moments later, she was sitting on the couch, waiting to greet them.

“Joy-Joy! You’re here, you’re here!” Dawn squealed like a teenager as she hugged her little niece. “I’m so excited to see you.”

“But Auntie Dawnie,” Joy replied evenly, “you just saw me at my house.”

“Oh, I know, but you haven’t been here in such a long time,” Dawn countered. “You were just a baby last time. There are so many things I want to show you and do with you, now that you’re a big girl.”

Joy beamed with pride. “I’m big enough to trick-or-treat and rock-and-roll.”

Dawn looked at Buffy and Spike in confusion. “Don’t ask,” Spike said, laughing. “It’s a long story.”

“Okay, guess we’ll save it for later,” Dawn said. “Come into the kitchen. I know you probably just had breakfast, but I made cinnamon rolls to celebrate your arrival, and I just took them out of the oven. You don’t have to eat a whole one, but you’ve got to taste them and tell me how great they are!” Joy bounded after Dawn into the kitchen, Buffy and Spike close behind her.

Twenty minutes later, they were all sitting around the kitchen table licking sugar off their fingers when Spike suddenly cocked one ear toward the door. “Dawn, are you expecting more company?” he asked. Dawn was vigorously shaking her head when Willow walked into the kitchen wearing a sheepish smile.

“Hello, Red,” Spike greeted her, his eyes narrow. “I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that you didn’t come all this way for a cinnamon bun. And, from the look on your face, I’d speculate you’ve got bad news. You might as well spill, Red, no point delaying the inevitable.”

Willow finished hugging everyone then turned to face them, her tight smile disappearing. “Um, yeah, you’re right, Spike, much as it pains me to say so,” she said, wincing a bit at the unpleasant task before her. “It’s complicated and we don’t have time to waste.” Then turning to Dawn, “I’ll need to brief Spike and Buffy, Dawn. Maybe you and Joy could find something more interesting to do,” she said, giving Dawn a meaningful look

Dawn took the hint and jumped up. “Come on Joy-Joy, you can help me with the decorations. We’ve got lots to do to get ready for Halloween!”

As soon as Dawn and Joy were safely out of earshot, Willow began to speak again. “I’ve been working on a problem we’ve been having with inter-dimensional travel, and I finally figured it out last night. It only affects extra-dimensional beings.” She stopped to take a breath, and then added, “like Joy.”

Spike and Buffy both looked at Willow in confusion. “Joy? This is about Joy?” Buffy asked. “She’s fine. You just saw her.”

“Yes,” Willow said slowly, choosing her words. “This part of Joy is fine. But another part of her – her twin, essentially – is lost between dimensions.”

Buffy gasped, jumping up from her chair. Spike took her hand as much to steady himself as to comfort her. Tears in her eyes, Buffy started to pelt Willow with questions. “Willow, what are you talking about? Where is she? Why didn’t you warn us?” Buffy asked, her voice tight with panic. “It makes no sense. Why is Joy affected, but not Dawn?”

“I’m so sorry, Buffy,” she began. “I didn’t warn you because…because…I didn’t… Oh, God, Buffy, I don’t have a good reason. I just screwed up. I was so busy being little Miss Know-It-All I didn’t stop and think. I didn’t think.” Willow’s voice trailed off and her eyes filled with tears. But then, as soon as they’d started, the tears stopped and a look of pure resolve appeared on Willows pale face. “This is my fault. I could have prevented this. But you’ll have time to yell at me later. Right now, I need you to help me fix it. We need to find Joy.”

Spike put his hands on Buffy’s shoulders. “Come on, Red,” he said, looking directly into her eyes. “Tell us what we need to know so we can bring her back home.”

Willow sighed audibly and continued. “I saw your travel plan not long ago. I’ve already done a locator spell. It doesn’t work the same inter-dimensionally, but it confirmed that she’s out there, somewhere. We’ve notified all Council operatives to meet us at the critical events coordinates. Everyone who’s available will be there by now. It’ll save time if I brief everyone at once. I know you have a million questions, but if we go now we can start searching sooner.”

Buffy looked at Spike. “I’ll tell Dawn and Joy that we need to go save the world. Then I guess we’re ready.”


Tbc…


A/N: My wonderful Beta, Addie Logan, has pointed out that my story just took a sharp turn from light-hearted family fun to scary, child-in-peril. I just want to reassure everyone that nothing terrible is going to happen to Joy. Just hang in for a bit. I promise the family will be reunited in time for trick-or-treat.

Also, voting for the Spuffy Awards is open. You can check out the nominees (including my two WIPs) and vote for your favorites at http://spuffyawards.jaded-paradise.net/vote.php. Voting ends September 16, so don’t delay!!

The faces that greeted them were uniformly grim as Buffy, Spike, and Willow arrived at the rendezvous coordinates a short time later. The dimension designated for critical event briefings had been chosen, in part, because the sunlight there had no affect on vampires. A few other vampires had been involved from time to time, but it was Spike’s pivotal role in the Council’s work that prompted this choice of venue. The black and white Council teachings of old had long since been supplanted by many shades of grey. Demons of many types were now employed throughout the formerly all-human enclave committed to saving the world from evil.

The assembled operatives cleared a path as Willow walked purposefully into the center of the group, drawing Buffy and Spike with her. The determination burning in the powerful witch’s eyes was all it took to silence the assembly and focus everyone’s attention on her. “We have no time to spare,” she began. “Listen carefully because every second counts. Joy is lost between dimensions. Some of you know exactly what I am talking about because you’ve been lost there too. The rest of you will have to wait until after Joy is found to get a more thorough explanation of this phenomenon. Right now, you only need to know how we intend to find her.”

Spike took Buffy’s hand as they stood, listening to Willow convey her instructions. Very little time had passed since she’d learned Joy was lost, yet Willow’s plan was clear and elegant. She divided the group into teams and assigned each team a sector. The teams were to fan out and systematically search until Joy was found. Willow provided magical enhancements to aid the searchers and everyone was instructed to bring Joy directly to either Buffy or Spike, whoever was closer, when she was found. Before setting off with their teams, Council operatives who had themselves been lost told Buffy and Spike how to minimize any long term trauma when the lost part of Joy was reunited with her other half.

Finally, the crowd began to thin as the teams left. Buffy spotted Giselle approaching from across the clearing. “Giselle, what are you doing here?” Buffy asked, taking the nanny’s hands in hers.

“I had to come when I heard my Joyous was lost,” the lovely violet-skinned demon explained. “I go now to tell my sisters and brothers how to search. Each one will shift to look just like me. That way little one not to be afraid. She will think my sister and my brother is her very own Giselle.”

“Oh, Giselle!” Buffy said, starting to cry, “That’s such a wonderful idea.” Spike was just a few steps behind Buffy having stopped briefly to speak with Willow. By the time he caught up to where she stood talking with Giselle, tears were streaming down Buffy’s face. Buffy tried to tell Spike what Giselle had told her, but her sobs made it impossible for her to speak.

“No worries, love,” he said, gathering her into his arms. “I heard what Gigi was saying.” Turning to the nanny he said, “Thank you, for what your family is doing, and for making Buffy cry. I wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold it in without hurting herself.”

Giselle flashed Spike her exaggerated and slightly bizarre smile. She was usually so good at mimicking human attributes, the strange smile was a jarring reminder that Giselle’s human appearance was just one of the infinite forms she could assume. “I best run to tell my sisters and brothers how to look,” she said, bobbing her head slightly in acknowledgement of Spike’s thanks. “I will see you at home with our little girl so very soon.” With that she was gone, stepping through a portal which would take her to her home dimension.

Buffy clung to Spike for another moment, then took a deep breath. Looking up at him, she managed a wan little smile. "I'm okay now," she said, wiping away her tears. "I don't know what I expected, but I was surprised to see so many people here and to feel so much love. Giselle was just the last straw. I actually feel much better now."

Spike kissed her on the top of the head and then drew slightly away. "We have to split up,” he said, knowing instinctively she was all business now. “As soon as one of us has her, the other will go to Dawn's to prepare the Widget for her other half. Are you ready?”

“Yeah, I’m as ready as I’m going to be,” she said, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him. “What were you talking to Willow about?’

“She’s going to magically boost my hearing,” Spike said. “I’m sure I can pick out the Widget’s heartbeat with a little help. I’ll start searching my part of the grid as soon as she’s finished the spell.”

“Okay, then I guess this is it,” Buffy said, looking determined. “I’ll see you at Dawn’s with Joy then.”

“Yes, love,” he agreed, “at Dawn’s with the Widget. But let’s find her quick, okay? We’ve got trick-or-treating to do.”

They parted after one more kiss, Buffy leaving with her team as Spike went to find Willow.

As soon as she was in motion, Buffy focused entirely on the task at hand. She’d been on enough missions to pretend this was just one more puzzle needing to be solved. But she still had to push other thoughts from her mind, thoughts that threatened to interrupt her concentration. She wouldn’t think, for example, that a search for one small girl lost between dimensions was even less likely to be successful that a search for one needle in a haystack. She wouldn’t think that, unlike the others who had been lost between dimensions, Joy was just a child, not a trained Council operative familiar with extra-dimensional travel. And most particularly, she wouldn’t think about whether Joy had ended up in a benign dimension or had landed instead in a place hostile to humans. If she let her thoughts go down any of those paths she would dissolve in despair. There was simply no time for that.

Meanwhile, Spike approached Willow as she finished giving her assignment to the last of the search teams. A moment after the team disappeared into a portal she turned to face him.

“I appreciate what it means that you’ve asked me for this spell,” she said to Spike, her eyes fixed on the ground. “I know exactly how you feel about magic. Under the circumstances, I’m grateful you’ll let me try to help.”

Spike shook his head, “Red, we don’t blame you,” he said, lifting her chin with his finger. “You were about to share what you’d learned, right? It was more a question of timing than anything. Hey, I was hesitant about using the portals for travel with Joy. I didn’t follow my gut. Am I kicking myself now? Of course I am. What’s done is done. Come on, let’s get me all magicked up so I can go find my girl.”

“Okay,” she said, with an expression that was half wince and half smile. “But I need two minutes to check the spell. You can look this over until I’m ready,” she said, pulling a piece of paper out of her pocket. “I ranked all the dimensions in order of their danger to humans. The search teams are starting with the worst ones. I saved the biggest and the baddest ones for you. Fortunately, if this spell works, you’ll be able to cover a lot of area very quickly.”

Spike had already memorized the portal coordinates that would take him to his hunting grounds when Willow returned, book in hand. “It’s pretty straight-forward,” she said, finding her place on the appropriate page. “Hold on.” Taking Spike’s hand in hers, she began to chant.


A/N: Sorry for the long break between updates. I know the saying is “art imitates life” but for me it’s more like “life interrupts art”. I’m very proud to announce that this story has been nominated or Best WIP, Future Fic, and Plot at the 17th Round of the Love’s Last Glimpse Awards. Many thanks to whomever it was who nominated me. I encourage you to check out all the nominees at http://www.loveslastglimpse.com/awards/index.html.

One moment she was comfortably perched on her Papa's hip, held firmly in his strong arms and surrounded by the comforting scent of leather and cigarettes (of which Mama does not approve). The next moment, she found herself alone on the hard soil of an alien landscape. Joy blinked hard and then reached around to feel for her backpack and the reassuring presence of Mr. Pig. She took her bottom lip firmly between her teeth and thought very hard. Something had gone wrong on the way to California. She was lost, but she knew who and what her parents were, and they would never rest until they found her. Her job was simple. She had to stay safe until they did.

Joy looked around. Shelter of some sort was her first priority. She found a low outcropping of rock and stooped down to crawl under it. Nestled in the tight space, she surveyed her surroundings. This was not a friendly place. The ground was largely barren, only a few scraggly shrubs visible from her refuge. A thick fog blanketed as far as she could see. She heard something moving not far away. As the sound grew closer, Joy removed her backpack as quietly as she could and pressed even farther against the hollow recess of stone. When she saw a huge four-legged creature lumber into sight, she was glad she had retreated. It stood at least eight feet tall and was covered with thick fur. Joy held her breath and stayed absolutely still until it had passed.

When the creature was gone, Joy listened very carefully to see if any others were nearby. Fortunately, she had played hide and seek with her father many times. At first, he always found her in a matter of seconds, using his acute hearing and sense of smell. But Joy had learned to elude him, sometimes for a quarter of an hour or more, by hiding near the washing machine when it was running to mask her heartbeat or wearing her mother's dressing gown to cover her scent. When he did finally find her, Spike was always very proud of his little girl for managing to stay hidden as long as she had. If he had ever intended these games to teach Joy an important survival skill, he'd never said so. But Joy was very smart, and she'd already learned something about the creatures occupying this dimension: they didn't have vampire hearing and they didn’t seem to be very good at sniffing out little girls. Her observations appeared to be confirmed when she noticed several smaller animals scampering around in the open.

Over the next hour, Joy watched as several of the large, furry creatures moved in and out of the open area in front of her hiding place. The creatures moved about waving their long fleshy snouts in the air and largely ignored the small, rodent-like animals squeaking and scuffling underfoot. Joy didn't move from her sanctuary, but she did relax a little. She untied Mr. Pig from the top of her backpack and held him close under her chin. She remembered what her father had told her when they had gone to the zoo. "Widget," he said, "If we get separated, just stay where you are. It's easier to find something that stays in one place." Joy was ready to stay put as long as she had to, but her hiding space was cramped and boring. It didn't take long for the novelty to wear off; fear quickly took its place.

“It will be okay,” she whispered to Mr. Pig. “Mama and Papa will find us. I’ll protect you until they get here.”

*******

The little Spike knew about the first dimension on his list would have been enough to make his blood run cold, if it didn’t already. The Council had already lost two human agents in this forbidding place. The only good news was both survivors of those missions were demons. Spike hoped that being a vampire would give him at least a fighting chance. What it meant if Joy was there, he didn’t want to think about.

Emerging from the portal, he quickly focused his senses, especially his magically enhanced hearing. What he heard brought a smile instantly to his lips, and he started sprinting towards its source.

Even while hurtling at top speed toward his goal, Spike still managed to survey his surroundings for potential threats. The stark landscape was anything but welcoming, and while the vibrations he recognized as Joy's voice stood out, Spike could also hear unseen creatures moving ominously in the thick mist. The fog obscured his vision, so Spike slowed his pace and assumed a more stealthy approach as he neared what he hoped was his lost daughter. Sheltered by a scraggly shrub, Spike took a moment to assess the immediate danger. He watched one of the large, hairy creatures lumber into view, its snout in the air, and immediately recognized the animal’s behavior as that of one who relies heavily upon his sense of smell.

A moment later Spike had all the confirmation he needed when he detected a sharp odor hanging in the humid air. Its source, a four-legged animal resembling a goat, came into view when the mist cleared for a moment. Spike watched as the larger creature he’d seen earlier turned, displaying surprising grace, and shot across the clearing with deadly accuracy. The musky goat disappeared down its predator’s gullet in a matter of seconds. ‘That goat was a regular pheromone factory,” thought Spike. ‘I guess I know now why the snout monster doesn’t notice me.’

Initially relieved that he needn’t worry about eluding the one known threat, Spike tensed again when he noticed the sound he’d been following had ceased. Inhaling deeply, he brought his own sensory skills into play and sighed when he recognized traces of Joy’s unique scent nearby, and then heard the reassuring thump of her utterly familiar heartbeat. Unable to wait another moment, Spike drew close to what he believed to be Joy’s hiding place and called out. “Widget, sweetheart, it’s your Papa. You can come out.”

Spike heard some scuffling and then silence. He decided to try again. “Don’t be afraid, Widge,” he said, “It’s really me. I even know the secret code word. It’s Dumbledore.”

“It’s not Dumbledore, you ninny pants,” she responded, while launching herself into Spike’s waiting arms. “The secret code word is Hermione.”
********

“He’s got her,” Willow sang out as she materialized through the portal into Dawn’s living room. Wrapping her arms around Buffy, Joy, and Dawn where they were huddled together on the couch, she beamed at them even as tears streaked her face. “She’s fine, not a scratch on her!”

Soon they were all crying and hugging. Buffy and Dawn had already prepared Joy for the reunion with her lost self. Willow explained that Spike was doing the same with ‘his’ Joy and would arrive soon. When Joy suddenly leapt off the couch, she caught all the adults by surprise.

“What’s the matter, Joy-Joy?” Dawn asked, worry creasing her brow.

“I need to pee!” Joy answered, dashing for the bathroom.

“Oh, my gods,” Buffy laughed. “She hasn’t peed since we got here. I guess she was too scared!”

It was a good twenty minutes before Spike arrived. During the wait, Joy practically bounced off the walls anticipating her father’s return. Buffy had to smile, seeing how happy Joy was to know that Spike was safe. When she fell and skinned her knee or woke up from a bad dream, Joy would run first to Buffy for first aid and comfort. She loved and clearly still needed her mother. But Joy was definitely a daddy’s girl, too. And when it came to fun, it had to be Spike. The two were constantly devising new games with rules that changed so fast Buffy could never keep up. Although they could be fiercely competitive, the play would usually dissolve into an infectious case of the giggles that would leave them both rolling on the floor with laughter. Buffy didn’t even need to understand the joke, just seeing them like that was enough to get her laughing as well. Buffy couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would mean for Joy to lose Spike, just as she couldn’t fathom living without him. Fortunately neither of them had to worry about that, at least not this time.

When Spike finally appeared he stood in the hallway at Dawn’s front door with one arm still in the portal. “Hello, Widget,” he said, smiling broadly. “I’ve got a few new memories for you. But you need to come over here so I can give them to you.”

Joy flew across the room and Spike knelt down just in time to catch her, gathering her into a one-armed hug. She wasted no time burying her face in his chest, clinging to him as if her life depended upon it. Spike nuzzled her hair, breathing in her scent, and planted a kiss on the top of her head before pulling away just enough to look her directly in the eye. “Mama told you what to expect, yeah?” he asked. Joy nodded, but her expression was tight with nerves. “It will be okay, Widg,” he said. “You told me everything that happened. You didn’t get hurt. You weren’t even very scared.” Joy still looked apprehensive. Spike put his finger under Joy’s chin and leveled her with a serious expression. “I promise you, it will be fine.”

That was all it took. Joy visibly relaxed. She knew Spike would never lie to her about anything. “I’m ready, Papa,” she said, smiling up at him.

Spike kissed her on the forehead. “Okay, Widg. Just reach down my arm and feel around until you’ve got her hand.” Joy slid her hand along Spike’s sleeve until it disappeared into the portal. “Have you got her?” he asked. Joy nodded. “Okay, little one, invite her in.”

Joy looked up at her father, perplexed. “Yeah, just ask her to come in. She’ll know what to do.”

Joy took a deep breath and turned slightly to face the portal. “Would you like to come in?” she asked. Spike was right there when she passed out and fell into his arms.

Joy came to on the couch a few minutes later. Buffy and Spike were both holding her hands when she opened her eyes. “Hi Mama, hi Papa,” she said, blinking. “Can we trick-or-treat now?”

Buffy and Spike exchanged a knowing look. They had survived enough apocalyptic events to know that everyone involved would be buzzing with adrenaline for hours. Going out at night to knock on strangers’ doors begging for candy seemed a perfect way to burn off some of that excess energy. Besides, Joy would likely file for a divorce from her parents if she didn’t get to experience her first Halloween in California after all they’d been through. But first they needed to be sure Joy had successfully integrated her dual memories.

“First tell your mum how I found you, Widget,” Spike said. “Then we’ll know you’ve got all your memories.”

“Then I get to trick-or-treat?” Joy asked.

“After you eat some dinner,” he replied.

“Okay. We were hiding in a little cave,” Joy began, turning to face her mother.

“We?” Buffy asked. “Who was with you?”

“Mr. Pig,” Joy said, rolling her eyes. “Remember, I had Mr. Pig with me when we left!”

“Oh, of course,” Buffy said, shooting an amused glance at Spike. “How could I forget?”

“We were hiding from these really big aminals. I knew you and Papa would find us. We just had to wait. I wasn’t scared, but Mr. Pig was. So I pretended it was morning when I wake up, but you and Papa are still playing. Mr. Pig always gets bored waiting for you to finish playing, so I sing to him. Papa heard me singing. That’s how he found me.”

“He heard you singing to Mr. Pig?” Buffy asked.

“U-huh,” Joy nodded. “Can we go now?”

“Not so fast, Widget,” Spike interjected, a smile curving his lips. “Tell your mum what you were singing.”

Joy looked embarrassed. “I guess I was a little bit scared,” she said, looking down. “The only song I could remember was ‘Sedated.’ It’s a silly song, but Mr. Pig didn’t care.”

“You were singing ‘I Want to Be Sedated’ to Mr. Pig?” Buffy asked, incredulous.

“U-huh. Can I put on my costume now?”

Buffy said, “Sure, go ahead. It’s in the bedroom.” Joy jumped up and ran down the hall.

“I guess she’s okay,” Buffy said slowly.

“She’s not just okay,” Spike crowed. “The child is bloody brilliant! She’ll tell you the whole story later, after she’s had her trick-or-treat. She never lost her cool, stayed put like I told her. She even figured out that the creatures couldn’t smell or hear her. So she just stayed out of sight and waited for us to find her. I’m so proud I could burst.”

Willow tried to slink off once she’d seen that Joy was safe, but Buffy and Spike insisted she stay to celebrate with them. It didn’t matter Willow didn’t have a costume; she could conjure up a glamour in a matter of minutes. Dawn announced she had a pot of spaghetti sauce and disappeared into the kitchen to boil water for pasta. Willow excused herself to call the Council and let everyone know the reunion had been a success, leaving Buffy and Spike alone in the living room.

“I guess we were out of our minds to think we could have a ‘normal’ Halloween, love,” Spike said pulling Buffy down on the couch with him. “I’d say ‘I told you so’ but I don’t suppose there’s any point. You still won’t listen to me.”

“I’m not going to bother reminding you that we agreed NOT to come to California for Halloween, fang boy,” Buffy said, smiling broadly. “You’re the one who couldn’t say no to a four year-old.”

“Right, then,” he said, looking discomfited. “So, do you think the bit has any O Negative on hand?”

Tbc….

A/N: We're coming into the home stretch here. I'm a new author and I'm posting these chapters as I finish them. To be perfectly honest , I don't know how many more chapters I'll need to bring this story to a close. But there's definitely a couple left. Please review. You know how I love reviews!!

Sd

Buffy rolled her eyes at Spike’s transparent attempt to change the subject. “Nice try, honey,” she said, “but I’m scoring this whole fiasco as an error for the home team.”

“No argument there, love,” Spike agreed, pulling Buffy into his lap. “I already admitted it to Red, so I might as well come clean with you too. I knew better, and I didn’t follow my gut. I’m sorry, love. Did I ruin your Halloween?”

“Not yet. Joy’s ready to trick-or-treat. That’s all that I care about at this point. I’m just a little wound up is all.” Buffy said as she nuzzled Spike’s check and nipped playfully at his ear.

Buffy felt Spike’s growl vibrate through her at the same moment she became aware of the rapidly hardening length of his erection where it pressed into her bottom. She’d barely registered these sensations before he lifted her and started walking down the hall. “It takes 20 minutes to cook pasta,” he said softly. “I think we should be able to unwind you a bit before dinner’s ready. What do you think?”

Buffy wrapped her legs around Spike’s waist. “I don’t know. Did you bring the good stuff?” she asked innocently.

“Oh yeah,” he sighed, already closing the bedroom door behind them. “Always keep it handy when you’re around.”

“Well, in that case,” Buffy said, “I couldn’t possibly refuse. It would be such a shame to bring it all this way and not use it.”

“Oh, we’ll use it, love,” Spike practically purred into her ear.

With that, Buffy clamped her legs a little tighter around Spike. Firmly anchored to his pelvis, she arched her back slightly and pulled her top off in one motion. As she dropped the garment to the floor she saw the flash of amber in Spike’s eyes as he caught sight of her salmon lace bra. “Whoa, fang boy,” she said. “We’ll have no slashing of the new bra, okay?”

“Not to worry, love. I think I’ll leave it alone. I rather fancy taking you half-dressed. It saves time, and it always leaves you looking totally debauched.”

“Does that apply to my panties too?” she asked.

“No way, pet, the knickers have got to go,” he said, as they untangled enough for Buffy to put her feet on the floor and simultaneously reached for each other’s zippers. “But I don’t have to rip them off, if you’ll cooperate.” Drawing on decades of practice, they were naked from waist to knees in a matter of seconds.

Wasting no time, Spike put his hands on Buffy’s hips, turning her around so her back was to his front. Pulling her body flush against his, Spike buried his face in her hair. “I’ve got the good stuff right here, love,” he breathed into her ear. “Are you ready?”

Buffy gasped as the cool, hardness of Spike’s erection pressed into the cleft of her buttocks. Arching her back, she increased the tantalizing friction where his balls bounced against the ultra-sensitive folds between her legs. Spike clamped a hand over her mouth just as Buffy began to cry out. “Shhh, baby,” he whispered, directly into her ear. “Remember now, the bit doesn’t have soundproof walls in her bedrooms. We need to keep quiet.” Buffy nodded her agreement and Spike slowly removed his hand.

Buffy twisted her neck until she found his lips with hers and they both moaned softly into each other’s mouths. The tension of losing and searching for Joy had left them raw and hungry. It had actually been only a dozen hours since they’d last made love, but it felt like much longer. They needed this connection to finally dispel the veil of fear that had dropped over them while Joy was lost.

Buffy reached between her legs with one hand and gently squeezed Spike’s balls. Nearly losing control, Spike had to smother a strangled scream in her hair. “Not fair, love,” he hissed. “You know what that does to me.”

“What, you mean this?” she asked, tugging lightly on his sac.

“Yes,” he hissed through clenched teeth, “that.”

“What about this, then?” she said as she moved her hand up to wrap it around the base of Spike’s cock. Pulling his erection free of her cleft, she repositioned it between her legs.

“Ah, yes, love, that’s brilliant,” he sighed, his legs trembling.

Removing her hand, Buffy pressed her thighs firmly together, scissoring her legs back and forth very slightly.

“Ah, fuck me, Buffy,” he gasped. “Whatever you’re doing, please don’t stop.”

Buffy chuckled, loving the way Spike responded to her touch. “Don’t worry, honey,” she purred. “I’m just getting started.” She contracted her thighs to clamp even tighter around Spike’s swollen cock, drenching it in a flood of wetness as she began to rock her pelvis. All she could hear was Spike’s ragged breath rasping in and out in rhythm with her movements. Buffy, despite her intention of lavishing pleasure on her mate, found herself awash with the intense sensation created by his unyielding firmness as it rubbed against the enveloping suppleness of her swollen vulva. Distracted from her efforts to bring Spike close to his climax, Buffy was caught completely off guard by her own orgasm. Biting her lip to keep from screaming, Buffy doubled over as waves of pleasure pulsed through her. Only Spike’s strong arms kept her from falling forward onto the bed.

Spike managed to pivot around far enough to drop onto the bed, bringing Buffy along with him. Rolling her onto her back, he straddled her body with his. When she recovered enough to open her eyes she found him grinning down at her, his weight supported on his arms.

“I’m proud of you, love,” he whispered. “You hardly made a sound. But you better grab a pillow now, because I’m coming inside, and this time I’m the one who’s just getting started.”

**********

Dawn gave the pasta a quick stir and turned to take some salad dressing out of the refrigerator when she nearly tripped over Joy. “Hey, Joy-Joy,” she laughed. “It’s a good thing that tail is just pretend ‘cause I think I just stepped on it.”

“Don’t worry, Auntie Dawnie,” she replied. “It didn’t hurt.”

Dawn smiled down at her niece, who had managed to get most of the way into her kitty costume. “Come here, cutie. Let me button you up,” Dawn said, as she finished the job. “Dinner’s almost done. Do you want to go tell your Mama and Papa we’re about ready to eat?”

“Not yet,” Joy said, shaking her head. “They’re still playing.”

“Playing?” Dawn asked, only half listening as she returned to tearing lettuce into the salad bowl. She was about to inquire what sort of game Buffy and Spike were playing when she remembered whom she was talking about. “Oooookay, never mind,” she said quickly. “How about helping me set the table?”

“Okay,” Joy answered. “I can’t reach the plates so Mama puts them on the table and I spread them around.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” Dawn said, marveling again at the four-year-old’s quiet competence. “Here, step up here and wash your hands while I get the dishes.”

By the time Willow returned to the kitchen from calling the Council, Joy was seated at the head of the neatly set table drinking a glass of milk, her stuffed pig wedged into the chair at her side.

“Hey, Joyster,” Willow said as she took a seat beside her. “Everyone at the Council is still celebrating the safe return from your last adventure. You look like you’re already ready for another. How are those new memories doing?”

“What?” Joy looked confused for a moment. “Oh, you mean when we were lost?”

Willow nodded. “Yeah, what was it like?”

“Mr. Pig was very scared. I was scared too, but I didn’t want him to know. So I promised to take him trick-or-treating if he didn’t cry.”

“Did it work?” Willow asked.

Joy nodded her head vigorously, “We didn’t cry until Papa got there.”

“You’re a brave little girl, Joy.” Willow said.

Joy just sighed and said, “I didn’t feel brave. I did what Papa said to do if I ever got lost. I just pretended to be brave for Mr. Pig.”

“By the way, Joy,” Willow said, “Mr. Pig is kind of a formal name for a stuffed animal. Couldn’t you call him his first name?”

“Oh, Mr. Pig doesn’t like his first name,” Joy whispered in response. “He thinks it’s babyish.”

“Really?” Willow said. “Can you tell me what it is?”

Joy looked thoughtful. “I guess so,” she said slowly. “But only if you promise not to call him it.”

Willow crossed her heart. “I promise.”

Joy leaned close to Willow’s ear and whispered very softly. “It’s Pinky.”

Willow was indicating to Joy that her secret was safe by locking her lips with an invisible key, when a rhythmic thumping began to vibrate through the walls of the house. Dawn caught Willow’s eye from the sink where she was draining the cooked pasta. Raising her voice over the telltale noise she announced that dinner was ready and made as much racket as possible with the pots and pans until the pounding finally stopped.

“They’re done,” Joy said matter-of-factly, slipping from her seat. “I can tell Mama and Papa to come to dinner now.”

Joy disappeared down the hall, leaving Dawn and Willow to stare at each other in silence.

Tbc…

Dawn’s guests used pieces of bread to soak up every last drop of her homemade spaghetti sauce. Even Spike, who didn’t technically need to eat, consumed a healthy portion. The quantity of sauce that ended up on her face was evidence that Joy had thoroughly enjoyed her dinner. But, thanks to her Auntie Dawn, none of it marred her costume which was protected by a full apron.

“Mama,” Joy said, as the adults started clearing the table, “could you ask Auntie Dawn to teach you how to make her sketti sauce? Then we could have it whenever we want.”

Buffy froze as all the adults turned to look at her, waiting for her response. “Okay, Joy-Joy,” she replied slowly. “But you do remember that I only cook breakfast. Papa does all the other cooking.”

“I know, Mama,” Joy said, “but Auntie Dawnie said that her sauce is a Summers’ family secret. I don’t know if she’ll teach it to Papa.”

Dawn laughed. “I’ll teach your Papa how to make it, Joyster. He’s family too, you know.”

“But he’s not a Summers,” Joy said. “He’s a Bennet.”

“You’re right, he’s not a Summers, but he’s your Papa,” Dawn explained. “That means we’re all related to him through you. So it’s okay for him to know the secret recipe.”

“Oh, good,” Joy sighed with relief. “I really like it. I like it so much I would eat it for breakfast if you couldn’t teach Papa.”

When the laughing subsided, Buffy reached to help Joy out of her chair. “Come on, Joy-Joy, let’s go wash your face. You’ve got so much sauce there’s no room to draw on your whiskers.”

Willow waited until mother and daughter were safely out of the room before she spoke.
”When do you think Joy’s going to figure out that waffles, pancakes and toast are all her mother will every learn to cook?”

Spike was preparing to leap to his wife’s defense when he heard something in the living room. “Bit, I think you’ve got more company,” he said, sweeping out of the kitchen in a blur of black. Spike found Giselle standing in the front hall where she had emerged from the portal just a moment earlier.

“Where is she?” she asked, not bothering with any pleasantries.

“She’s here, she’s fine. She’s just in the bathroom washing her face,” Spike answered. “You did know that I found her, right?”

Spike could see Giselle’s body relax with the news. “I heard,” she said. “But I had to look for myself. Can I see her?”

“Sure, Gigi, she’s right down the hall,” Spike said as he turned to lead Giselle to Joy. But before he could, the door to the bathroom flew open and his daughter came galloping across the living room and into the arms of her nanny, hugging her tight.

“You’re just in time for trick-or-treat, Giselle,” Joy said, still clinging to her. “You can go with us!”

Giselle wore her distinctive bizarre grin, but fat tears were streaming down her face. “I was worried so badly,” she said. “I’m so happy to see you are still my happy Joyous!”

By now Willow and Dawn had joined everyone else in the living room. Buffy greeted Giselle with a hug and while the women exchanged stories about their recent ordeal, Joy worked her way over to Spike and tugged on his shirt. Looking down, he immediately scooped her up onto his hip where her eyes were level with his. “What’s up, Widget?” he asked, touching the tip of his nose to hers.

“Can we go trick-or-treat now, Papa?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said, smiling broadly. Then raising his voice so it could be heard over the four women, he said, “Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

Following a flurry of intense activity, most of Joy’s trick-or-treat entourage finally assembled at the front door. The one exception was Spike who was searching for a bag strong enough to hold a lot of candy. Dawn wore a Tinker Bell costume she’d borrowed from the costumes created for her dance school’s recent performance of Peter Pan. Willow’s glamour transformed her into an elegant sorceress, complete with pointed hat and flowing velvet robe. Buffy was decked out in a perky Sunnydale High cheerleader’s uniform, accessorized with clownishly large, fluffy pom-poms, her hair pulled into pigtails. Giselle used her shape shifting abilities to create her “costume” by closing her eyes for a few moments. When she opened them again her skin had darkened to a deep plum and her eyes glowed golden.

“How is this, Joyous?” she asked. “Am I a good Halloween creature now?”

Joy squealed with delight. “Oh, Giselle, you’re so pretty!”

“Thank you,” she said, her cheeks turning orange as she blushed. “This is my favorite color.”

Spike emerged from the kitchen holding a plastic shopping bag with handles. “This should do it, Widget,” he said, holding it out to her. “If it’s any bigger you won’t be able to lift it when it’s full.”

Joy opened her eyes wide as her lower lip began to quiver. “I c-c-can’t carry the bag, Papa,” she stammered. “I have to carry Mr. Pig. I promised I’d take him with me.”

Spike had always been a sucker for a quivering lip. “No worries, love,” he said quickly. “I’ll hold Mr. Pig while you ring the bell and get your candy. Then I’ll carry the bag until we get to the next house so you can hold Mr. Pig. Okay?” Seeing his brave little girl nearly crumble at the prospect of carrying her own trick-or-treat bag made Spike smile. "She’s still just a little girl after all," he thought," like her Mum when I first met her. She was brave enough to save the world over and over again, but she was still just a girl." Spike caught Buffy’s eye, and they sighed in unison, the strange magnificence of their lives brought home to them again.

Joy’s eyes were brimming with tears but she managed a tight smile and a quick nod. “Okay, Papa,” she said, taking a deep breath to pull herself back together and hugging her pig to her chest.

“Let’s go then, Widget,” he said, scooping her up into his arms. “There are buckets of candy out there waiting for you!”

Dawn was just reaching to open the front door when the doorbell rang. As she swung the door open, the costumed visitors on the porch let loose a rousing chorus of "trick-or-treat.” But rather than a single person with a bowl of candy, the four trick-or-treaters found themselves face-to-face with an even larger group of Halloween revelers. When Joy blurted out, “Trick-or-treat to you, too!” everyone burst out in laughter. Much mutual admiration of costumes ensued while Dawn darted into the kitchen to retrieve the forgotten bag of candy she’d bought. When she’d dropped a few pieces into each bag, the polite trick-or-treaters all said, “Thank you,” and proceeded to the next house.

Closing the door slowly, Dawn looked at her guests. “I completely forgot about answering my door,” she said. “Somebody has to stay here and give out the candy or we’ll come back to a house covered with raw eggs.”

“Don’t worry, Dawnie,” Willow said. “We can leave the candy out on the porch. And just in case that’s not enough, I’ll use a spell to secure your house against tricks.”

Dawn shot a quick look at Buffy to see if she approved. It had been many years since Willow’s abuse of her powers had led her to take a walk on the dark side. All of Dawn’s recent experience of Willow’s magic had been in the context of Council business, but no one who was around then could forget how close Willow had come to destroying the world. Buffy shrugged in a reassuring way and Dawn smiled. “Thanks, Willow,” she said. “That would be great. I don’t want to miss Joy’s first time trick-or-treating.”

Only a few minutes later, the crew of five adults and Joy were once again poised to go.
They left a basket of candy was centered on the door mat. An aura of protection surrounded Dawn’s house with a faint glow as the four-year-old and her attendants started down the block to their first stop.

Joy, still perched on Spike’s hip, whispered something in his ear. “Okay, Widget,” he said. “But remember not to squeal, my hearing is even better when I’m in game face.” Joy nodded her agreement as he winked at her and instantly shifted into his vampire visage.

Joy clamped her hand over her mouth the keep from breaking her promise not to shatter her father’s eardrums with a happy screech. But the grin on her face said it all -- she loved him, man and demon both.

“Papa,” she said, affectionately tracing his brow ridges with her fingers, “your costume is the best!”

Tbc…..

I know that not a whole happens in this chapter. The adventure is over, now it's just warm fuzzies for Joy and her parents. Please review.

The moment they reached the bottom of the basement steps, Spike pushed Buffy face first into the wall. With both hands he firmly held her shoulders flush with the paneling. When she tried to crane around to look at him, he put one hand on the back of her head, pressing her cheek against the wooden surface.

“Ow!” she said, more as an observation than an expression of pain. “What are you up to?”

“Very funny, Slayer,” Spike growled into her ear, his cool breath ticklish enough to make her squirm. “Made a point of keeping it up all evening, didn’t you? Don’t tell me you’re going to go all coy now and pretend your two-hour tease wasn’t intentional?” As he said this, Spike stepped close enough to let Buffy feel his erection pressed against her backside.

“What? You mean you like my costume?” Buffy asked, feigning innocence.

“Maybe just a little,” Spike said through clenched teeth. “Especially when you ran ahead so your tiny skirt kept bouncing up and showing your pink bottom and no sign of knickers.” Spike tightened his grip as he leaned in to increase the pressure against his raging hard-on. “Tell me, little Slayer, are you wearing any knickers?”

“I don’t remember,” Buffy replied, her voice growing husky with desire. “Maybe you should see for yourself.”

With his blunt teeth grasping Buffy’s neck to hold it in place, Spike dropped one hand down over her hip and then snaked it under the hem of her skirt. “I never actually saw you in your cheerleading outfit before now,” he commented, releasing her neck for a moment to speak. “But I’ve had plenty of fantasies about it. You must know that.”

“I’ve never imagined I could keep track of your fantasies,” Buffy said, smiling to herself at the success of her costume. “But I was confident this uniform would inspire some realities.”

Sliding his hand up along the curve of her butt, Spike finally found a narrow strap of elastic near Buffy’s waist. Slipping his finger underneath, he pulled sharply, producing a tearing sound.

“Wait a mo’” he said, deftly performing the same maneuver on the other side. Bringing the flimsy scrap of fabric to eye level, he exclaimed, “This is Velcro!”

“Pretty clever, if you ask me!” Buffy said. Taking advantage of Spike’s moment of discovery, and the fact he’d let go of her neck again, she twisted around to face him. “You know my underwear budget is completely out of control. I had to do something.”

********

The trick-or-treating had ended an hour earlier with everyone returning to Dawn’s for hot chocolate. The women instructed Joy and Giselle in the age old tradition of sorting Halloween loot, painstakingly categorizing the candy on the living room rug. Dawn and Willow had a lively disagreement concerning whether everything with peanuts should go in the same pile, while Buffy kept stealing tiny boxes of Dots and tucking them under the couch cushions for later.

Once Spike had finished his hot chocolate with marshmallows, he paced back and forth making comments about the lateness of the hour and suggesting the candy could be organized in the morning. No one seemed to notice.

Joy lay on the couch, watching all the proceedings, until she finally fell asleep, her cheek wedged into the armrest where she had attempted to stay awake by propping her head up. Spike saw his opening when a drop of saliva threatened to drip from Joy’s mouth onto the upholstery. “Oi! Look at that, she’s drooling on the furniture!” he said, lunging forward to scoop the snoozing child into his arms and catching the shiny drop in mid-air. “She’s off to bed now,” he said, and then added, rather too emphatically, “and so should the rest of you.”

Buffy looked up from secreting yet another box of Dots. “Yeah,” she said, yawning, “I think it’s time to head for the barn.”

Grinning, Spike turned to address the rest of the crew “Well, that’s goodnight, then.” He followed Buffy eagerly down the hall. “Let’s get the Widget tucked in,” he said. “Then I’d like to show you something in the basement.”

Buffy nodded absent-mindedly as she helped Spike gently remove Joy’s costume and slip her into a pair of pajamas. Despite being lifted and rolled about, Joy never roused; instead she remained totally relaxed and blissfully sawing logs the whole time. Once they’d finished changing her, Buffy and Spike both stopped for a moment to stare at their child’s utterly peaceful face.

“She had the time of her life tonight, love,” Spike whispered, pulling the covers up to Joy’s chin. “I didn’t care much for the trip, but the destination was damn good.”

“The look on her face as she walked from house to house, holding your hand, was priceless,” Buffy agreed, smiling at him. “I’ve never seen her happier. She finally got to show off her gorgeous demon daddy!”

“Oh, yeah, about that” Spike said, curling his tongue behind his teeth and nailing Buffy with a smoldering look, “I need to show you something downstairs.”

Buffy looked a bit skeptical, but after leaning over to give Joy a kiss on the forehead, she said. “Lead on. I’m right behind you.”

*******

Buffy knew she had him the first time she jogged ahead. Bounding up the steps of the tidy colonial-style home, she stopped at the landing and turned to watch as Spike helped Joy climb the steep cement stairs. Buffy caught his gaze just before he looked down to watch as Joy mounted the next step. In that fraction of a second, she saw she’d successfully set her hook. Even in minimal light, the flash of amber was unmistakable.

As the evening progressed, the evidence her seduction was working only grew. Even without vampire senses, she could tell his breathing had accelerated. Spike never gave up breathing altogether, but the old habit was particularly noticeable when he became aroused. By the time they all got back to Dawn’s, he was huffing and puffing like a locomotive.

As she helped sort Joy’s loot, Buffy had watched with quiet amusement as Spike paced and fidgeted, the muscle in his jaw jumping as he clenched and unclenched his teeth in frustration. When he finally gathered Joy into his arms and announced it was time to retire, she was ready to make the next move. It would have been easy to suggest a game or start another argument about the candy, but the effects of hours of subtle seduction had begun to boomerang. She knew he wouldn’t miss the signs she was beginning to exhibit for long.

Rising from the couch, Buffy carefully smoothed down her short skirt. But as she preceded Spike down the hall to Joy’s room, confident his eyes were trained on her behind, she couldn’t help giving her hips a little extra sway.

The mood between them shifted as they shared the task of getting Joy changed and tucked into bed. Despite the routine domesticity of their home life, neither one could forget for long their daughter was a miracle, and the day’s events had been a rather terrifying reminder that Joy’s very existence was a manifestation of the supernatural.

But lust could never stay very far from the surface in their relationship, and Buffy’s comment about Joy’s “gorgeous demon daddy” was all the stimulus needed to bring attention back to the unresolved tension that had been building steadily between them. Pretending to be reluctant, Buffy was perfectly content to follow Spike down the basement steps, and she wasn’t at all surprised--or disappointed--to find herself pinned against the wall by a very horny vampire moments later.

******

Still holding the Velcro-equipped thong in his hand, Spike cocked his head to one side, squinted his eyes slightly, and sucked his cheeks in a pose that could melt steel. “I don’t know what turns me on more,” he said, slowly backing Buffy toward the wall again, “pretending you really are an innocent teenage cheerleader, who has no idea she’s producing hard-ons for a one mile radius every time her skirt flips, or the fact you planned this whole seduction down to the last detail.”

“Well, I don’t know about ‘every detail,’” Buffy countered, “but there definitely was a plan, and it appears to be working.”

Pressing his body against hers, Spike brought his lips within a hair’s breadth of Buffy’s ear. “So what’s next, little Slayer?” he asked, barely tracing a line down the side of her throat with his mouth.

Buffy shivered. “I thought we could kind of play it by ear from here,” she answered in a hoarse whisper.

Spike pulled back a bit to look at her, eyebrows raised. Then he took a quick look around the room. Although he could see just fine in the dark, Spike had lit the night-light on the stairs as he and Buffy descended. The large, mostly empty room was now dimly lit by the tiny light’s soft glow reflected in a wall of mirrors. Dawn had started out teaching her dance lessons here in her basement, yet what began as a few classes, morphed quickly into a dance school, and she was forced to move to a larger space. The basement, however, still looked like a dance studio—smooth wooden floors, a ballet barre running the length of the mirror covered wall, gymnastic mats piled neatly and a rack of costumes standing in the corner.

Buffy waited as Spike scanned the room, adding nothing. “You know, this whole evening reminds me of something,” he said, turning back to face her. “Back in Sunnydale when I used to watch you fight, I’d be hard as rock for hours on end. Didn’t matter if I was trying to kill you or fighting by your side. You were always such a cock tease—even when you didn’t know it.”

Buffy blushed. “Sometimes I knew,” she said, looking down, suddenly shy.

“Yeah, I finally got that memo,” Spike said, charmed at her reaction. He silently marveled that even after all the years they’d fought and fucked together, somehow she still held on to bits of the innocent girl from so long ago.

“Since you’ve got me worked into a right lather,” Spike continued, “I’d like to do what I always wanted to do back then.”

Buffy raised her eyes to his, just a touch of defiance visible in her gaze. “And what would that be?” she asked.

“I want to dance,” he replied.


Tbc…………

A/N: Gotcha! Maybe just a little? My superb beta, Addie Logan, liked the bit about the Dots. Must be some truth to that advice to write what you know. I love Dots, and I always tried to steal them from my kids' trick-or-treat bags. Now the little darlings are too old to let me get away with it. Damn!

Please review if you want me to keep writing. I'm a total slut for reviews.

“Dance?” Buffy asked. “If you mean what I think you mean…haven’t we been there, done that?”

“No, I don’t mean demolition derby style, not like the first time,” Spike said, running his hands lightly down her body and following their progress with a predatory sweep of his eyes. “I didn’t know where that was going when it began…or when it ended, for that matter. This is different. I want a seamless blend of violence, struggle and passion.”

“And a little poetry for good measure?”

“Wouldn’t hurt,” he said, smiling. “But it’s not strictly required.”

“Well, I can’t say I’m certain what you want here,” Buffy began, eyeing him with curiosity, “but I’m game.” Without even shifting her weight in warning, Buffy swept one leg under Spike’s and dropped him unceremoniously to the floor. “Am I on the right track?” she asked, meeting his surprised expression with a smug grin.

“I’d say,” he replied, twirling Buffy’s recently shed thong around his finger by its narrow elastic and leering up at her. “This is the view I was trying to catch all evening.”

Buffy, making no move to shield herself from Spike’s hungry gaze, laughed out loud. “You really are a pig, you know that don’t you?” she said.

“Yeah, that I do,” he replied, “and you love it!” Moving with vampire speed, Spike lunged forward. Scooping his hands under her skirt, he lifted Buffy off her feet and threw her across the room in one smooth motion. She landed with a thud on the gym mats stacked in the corner. Standing over her, Spike shook his head, “This might be more difficult than I thought,” he said. “It was all I could do to let go of your sweet little bum once I got my hands on it.”

Buffy grinned. “Well, sweetheart, I wouldn’t worry. You’re not going to get a hold of it again anytime soon.” In a flash, she kipped onto her feet from the mat and darted behind to send Spike flying with a blow to his back. It was Spike’s turn to hit the mat, face first this time.

Buffy wasted no time pinning him down, her body pressed over his. Holding him firmly in place, her lips were an inch from his ear when she whispered, “Comfy, honey?”

“Almost,” he answered. Eluding Buffy’s grip, he twisted beneath her, flipping them both over. The mat produced a loud snap as Buffy’s back hit it, knocking the breath from her lungs. Spike held his weight off her upper body until she regained her breath.

Grinning down at her he said, “That’s much better, thanks.”

“Nice try, fang face,” she said, burrowing into the mat to slide down and out from under her captor. Spike reached down to prevent her from escaping by grabbing onto her hips, but ended up with his fists full of nothing but cheerleader costume. Hearing the unmistakable sound of Velcro separating, he sighed and fell back onto the mat, defeated.

“Let me guess,” he said, holding out the garment in his hands. “This isn’t the uniform you wore when you were a cheerleader at Sunnydale High, is it?”

Buffy, dressed in nothing but her bra, shook her head. “No,” she said. “You obviously don’t remember R. J., the enchanted football player. Dawn thought he was the man of her dreams. Well, I guess we all thought that…anyway, she shredded my original uniform in a lovesick fit when she humiliated herself in front of him. I had that one made by a seamstress who specializes in costumes for strippers. Kind a cool, huh?”

“Yes, luv. It’s brilliant,” he agreed halfheartedly. Spike looked away but Buffy had already seen a small frown cross his features.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, everything is just peachy,” he said, quickly installing a fake smile knowing that Buffy would not be fooled.

“Okay, spill,” she demanded.

Spike crossed the room to the rack of costumes and pulled a kimono off its hanger. “It’s really nothing, luv,” he began, his voice laced with resignation. “But I can tell you aren’t going to let it go.” He approached her, bringing the heavy silk around her shoulders in one smooth motion. “So, here, put this on. Don’t want you to get cold while you interrogate me.”

Returning to the mats, Spike stacked three of them on top of each other to create a seat against the wall. Sitting, he held out his arms to Buffy and beckoned her to join him. She wrapped the robe around herself and walked toward him, wearing a wary expression. “You gave in awful easy. Now you’ve got me worried.”

“Please, stop,” he said, gathering her into his arms as she settled onto his lap. “It’s bad enough I’m having this little tantrum. You worrying only makes it worse.”

“Just tell me then. I promise to stop worrying as soon as you tell me what’s got you bugged.”

“Buggered is more like!” Spike sighed. Burying his face in Buffy’s neck for a moment, he took a deep breath and looked her straight in the eye. “I don’t know what I am anymore, sweets. I thought what I wanted was a bit of the rough and tumble, but it’s just not working out the way I’d imagined. And then you pop up and trump my Big Bad bit with a wicked little strip act. I feel a fool, really, because now I think I’d rather have you sweet and gentle in our cozy bed. But I’ve got us down here now, and I have to admit all this to convince you to come back upstairs with me and forget the whole thing.”

“That’s it?” Buffy asked, placing her hands on either side of Spike’s face. “And you really don’t understand what’s going on?”

Spike, his mouth set in a grimace, just shook his head.

“Okay, listen carefully. You are not a pathetic loser for picking a pretend fight with me. You’re all worked up because you went after Joy ready to fight to the death. Instead, she pretty much handled the situation, and all you had to do was guide her home again. Which, by the way, took a lot of finesse. But you’re still left with whatever the vampire equivalent of adrenaline is stockpiled in your body and you need to get it out.” Buffy stopped and raised her eyebrows at Spike.

“I’m listening,” was all he said.

“Good. So you tried to work off the excess energy with me, earlier. But that didn’t quite do the job…for you; I mean… it was lovely for me. Anyway, you still have oodles of ya-yas to…you know…get rid of. So you thought you’d get me into a fun fight. But that didn’t work because you don’t want to really hurt me. Face it, kiddo, you need to hurt something. Your little girl was lost and frightened and you were ready to slay dragons to save her. But there were no dragons. So I say we go find some.”

“Dragons?”

“Well, no, probably not real dragons. But, you know, figurative dragons. Bad guys. Bad demons. Something you can hit and hurt, maybe even kill,” Buffy said, smiling brightly.

Spike looked at Buffy with awe. “You make it all so simple. How can I be absolutely transparent to you, and yet have not the slightest clue what I’m on about?”

“Hmmm, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what I used to be like before my period? I was always the last one to figure out why I was so miserable,” Buffy said. “Unlike you, however, I usually tried to tear out the throat of anyone who dared suggest I was just hormonally impaired.”

“Yes, well, ordinary run of the mill blood lust has nothing on a Slayer with PMS,” Spike conceded, traces of a smile appearing at the corners of his mouth. “Now you’re talking truly evil.”

“Yeah! And I gotta say, much as I hate them, given a choice, I’d take hot flashes.”

“Speaking of which, luv, I haven’t noticed you getting all aglow for awhile. Have the power surges stopped?”

Buffy’s eyes opened wide. “You’re right; I haven’t had one for…I don’t know…the last one was back in London. That wasn’t that long ago, but hey, even a day is much longer than I usually go. Wow! Could they be over? Oh, no…can’t say that! They’ll come back! They could you know, they could just come back. No sense worrying about that now, though, I’ll just enjoy it as long as they stay away. Even if it’s temporary, it’s so incredibly wonderful…at least for now.”

Spike nuzzled Buffy’s neck. “For your sake, I hope they’ve stopped for good, luv,” he said. “But you know I never minded cooling you off?”

“Minded? No, I’d have to say you rather enjoyed it!”

“Yeah, that I did. And speaking of which…since we’re here and you’re practically naked already…well, you know…perhaps before we go in search of dragons we could…you know.”

Buffy was already keenly aware of a hardening bulge that was becoming increasingly obvious under her bottom. She reached down and quickly unbuttoned Spike’s fly while shifting her weight just enough to turn around, straddling his lap. Buffy let the kimono fall open as she freed Spike’s cock, her expression of pure and wanton lust illuminated in the soft glow of the nightlight.

Both Spike’s eyes and hands were drawn immediately to Buffy’s naked breasts. “Hey, what happened to your bra…” he began to ask, brushing his palms upward to catch one soft globe in each. “No, wait, don’t tell me. More Velcro, right?”

Buffy nodded as she wrapped both hands around Spike’s erection and gazed into his eyes. “You do approve don’t you?” she asked.

Closing his eyes, as he surrendered to the sensation of her small hands expertly pumping his throbbing cock, Spike smiled. “Yes, Velcro is the best bloody invention of the fucking century. Remind me to buy us some stock in it.”

“I’ll do that. But right now, not thinking about our stock portfolio so much.”

“No, luv, me neither.”

Tbc…..

A/N: I hope you’re happy with that. It took me long enough to write! Please take a moment to send me some love. I’ve got two careers going at the moment and while I love to write I’m finding it hard to find the time. The more encouragement I get from you the more I’m going to want to write. It’s not blackmail, it’s just the truth. Thanks and Happy New Year!

The horizon had just begun to glow when Spike and Buffy finally dragged their bodies across the threshold of Dawn’s kitchen. Although Spike was liberally spattered with demon gore and limping from a superficial but bloody gash in his leg, the wide grin on his face made it clear he and Buffy had found a fight worthy of the Master vampire and his Slayer mate. Collapsing onto a chair, he let his sword and small battle ax clatter to the floor.

“Eww,” Buffy said, observing the heap of sticky weaponry on Dawn’s previously spotless floor. “We should have left those in the garage.”

“’S’alright, sweetling,” Spike said, his drawl heavy with fatigue, “I can get this all cleaned up tomorrow. Your little sis has seen much worse. Right now, we both need some sleep.”

Buffy sighed with resignation. “You’re right. Dawn isn’t going to wig over a little demon guts,” she said. “But let’s get you in the shower before we hit the hay. I won’t get any rest if I have to sleep next to someone with undetermined bits of artichoke demon in his hair.”

“It was an Artizkar, not an artichoke, luv,” Spike corrected, reaching up to touch a stiff patch of dried slime just above his right ear. “But you’ve got a point about my hair.” Smelling his fingers, he made a face. “Whatever this is in my hair, it smells rancid.” Looking up at Buffy, he grabbed her belt and pulled her forward until she was standing between his legs. “But I think I’d enjoy my shower more if you’d take it with me,” he said, leering at her with all the subtlety of a sledge-hammer. “You can make sure I don’t miss any of the demon bits.”

“Blech! You stink!” she said, pushing away from Spike’s embrace. “Come on, if that’s what it takes to get you bathed, I’ll join you. But can we make it quick? That smell is going to make me sick.”

“If you want it quick, you’ll get it quick, luv,” Spike responded, his tongue visible between his teeth. “Lead the way. I’m right behind you, artichoke bits and all.”

Buffy rolled her eyes as she turned, “You are unbelievable, you know that, don’t you?” she said. “One minute you’re so tired you can barely walk, but all I have to do is say ‘shower’ and you’re suddenly all hot to trot!”

Spike grinned as he rose to follow Buffy down the dark hallway to the bathroom. “Yeah, I know,” he said. “You’re a very lucky girl. Everybody says so.”

Buffy turned on the shower as soon as she reached the bathroom. But after Spike staggered into the brightly lit room she reconsidered and switched the faucet to fill the tub. “Come here,” she said gently, “let me help you with your jeans. That cut looks nasty.”

Spike mumbled something about it being “nothing, just a scratch,” but he didn’t interfere when Buffy took a pair of scissors from the medicine cabinet and started cutting the denim away from his body. “I really liked those jeans,” he said wistfully.

Buffy sighed. “They’re exactly the same as all your other ones.”

“I know,” he said, smiling a sad little smile, “that’s what I liked about them.”

Once she’d pulled the sticky, wet cloth away from Spike’s skin, Buffy could see the damage. “Well, it’s not ‘nothing’,” she said, “and it’s not a ‘scratch’ either. But with a little TLC you’ll be good to go by tomorrow.”

As the tub filled, Buffy used a cloth to wash away most of the blood and helped Spike out of his shirt and what was left of his pants. Still fully clothed, Buffy touched her fingers to Spike’s lips. “Give me a little of that miraculous vampire spit.”

Spike obliged by sucking her fingers into his mouth, but he was too tired to take advantage of the moment with more than a lascivious glint in his eye. Buffy applied a sheen of saliva to his wound as gently as she could. Even as he winced, Spike chuckled softly. “We should really do this more often, luv,” he said, as she helped him into the bath and then turned her back to Spike as she took off her clothes. “I like you in the role of Florence Nightingale.”

“Yeah, I know,” she said, stepping out of her pants and reaching around to unhook her bra. “You’re probably already busy fantasizing about me in a little white uniform and cap.”

Naked now, Buffy turned around, expecting at least a smirk in response to her comment. Instead she found the formerly horny vampire was too busy sawing logs. The warm water had finally finished the job the bloody brawl had begun. Spike was snoring softly – despite not needing to breathe - as he slept stretched out in the tub. Buffy shook her head. The man never ceases to surprise me, she thought as she slipped carefully into the water beside him. Silently, Buffy thanked her little sister for investing in an extra large tub.


Late the next morning, Buffy, Spike, Joy and Dawn gathered again around the kitchen table eating Dawn’s famous banana-walnut pancakes. Still chewing her last bite, Joy tugged on Spike’s sleeve. “Can I watch cartoons, Papa?” she asked.

He looked at her with an expression of exaggerated confusion. “I think you’re trying to say ‘may I watch cartoons’ but your mouth is so full it sounded more like ‘can I watch cartoons’” he responded.

Rolling her eyes, Joy swallowed once last time and tried again. “May I watch cartoons?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said, smiling at Joy’s obvious exasperation, “as soon as you wash the syrup off your hands and face. Did you get any in your tummy at all?”

Joy jumped up and pushed her step stool over to the sink. When they finished rinsing the last evidence of Joy’s breakfast off her face and hands, Spike handed her a towel, picking her up as she dried off. “May I join you for cartoons?” he asked, swinging Joy’s legs in the air as she giggled.

“Yes, you may,” she replied, as they disappeared into the living room.

Buffy rose from her seat and started to collect plates from the table. Dawn joined her at the sink and they set about the task of cleaning up the dishes.

Passing a sticky plate to Buffy, who had begun loading the dishwasher, Dawn stopped for a moment. “He is so wonderful with her,” she said, “I don’t believe there’s a more devoted father on the planet.”

“I know,” Buffy said, “I hate to admit it, but sometimes it frightens me a little. He loves her so much. I can’t imagine what he’d be like if anything ever happened to her.”

“Buffy,” Dawn replied, turning to look her straight in the eye, her tone dead serious. “I’ve seen him destroyed. It was horrible to watch him endure so much pain. But his core goodness was always there. Even if you hadn’t come back, he would have eventually found a reason to keep going, something besides his promise to take care of me. I don’t know how it survived all those years as a blood-thirsty vampire, but Spike has more humanity than a lot of humans I know, and he’s stronger than anyone I know.” Suddenly realizing the direction she’d taken, Dawn stopped. “Besides,” she said, “what’s the chance anything could ever happen to Joy when she’s got you and Spike looking out for her?”

Buffy’s tense frown finally disappeared as she grabbed another plate. “Well, the truth is, I have precious little time to worry about either one of them. We’re always so busy.” She smiled and turned to put another dish in the washer. “I’m glad we got to visit you, even though it turned out to be a bit more complicated than we’d planned. It’s great to be away from home and all our responsibilities for a change. Thanks for inviting us.”

“You, Spike, and little Joyster are always welcome here,” Dawn said, putting her arms around Buffy and giving her a hug. “It makes me happy to see you so happy, you deserve it, you know.”

“Thanks,” Buffy said, returning the hug. “Speaking of happy, anything romantic in your life these days?”

Dawn flashed a look toward the living room. Noting the sound of the cartoons, she lowered her voice. “No one I’m ready to subject to interrogation by the Big Bad Brother-in-law. There is someone. But please don’t say anything to Spike. I don’t need his help frightening away the prospects; I do a very good job of that on my own.”

Buffy frowned. “Dawnie, you don’t frighten anyone away,” she said. “You just haven’t found the right guy yet.”

“That’s for sure,” Dawn agreed. “But you give me hope Buffy. You’re not like all the other girls either, and you found someone to appreciate you.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Buffy said, smiling. “And you will too, I know it. I won’t push to meet him this trip. We’ll be back sooner next time. Maybe we could meet him then?”

Dawn sighed. “Maybe, first we’ll have to see if it lasts that long. I think my record has been six weeks.”

“That sounds about right for our next visit,” Buffy said. “I’ll be counting the days.”

Dawn leaned in to whisper. “He’ll be at the performance tonight. So, if you promise not to clue in fang face, I’ll point him out. That way you’ll at least know what he looks like.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Buffy chanted quietly. “But make sure there isn’t any serious snogging before the show,” she added. “Or Spike will sniff out your secret without me saying a word.”

“Oh, great!” Dawn said, shaking her head. “How am I going to explain the new ‘no touching’ rule without spilling the whole my-brother-in-law-is-a-vampire thing?”

The sisters looked very busy when Spike came into the kitchen during a commercial to put away Joy’s towel.

Tbc…..

A/N: Sorry that took so long. Real life is a real bitch sometimes. I’ve been stressed to the max and trying to figure out what to do with my life. Work is…well, it’s work and sometimes I hate it and then it’s fun for a few minutes and I don’t quit. But I’ve had all sorts of bizarre health issues and I’m beginning to think the stress is getting to me. Plus I never have time to write. So, bear with me. There is more to come. I just don’t know when. Sd

Once the breakfast dishes were cleared away, Dawn left for a full day of wrangling costumes and sets for the evening’s dance performance. Willow and Giselle had long ago disappeared on an undisclosed errand. Spike suspected it was more of a date. Both he and Buffy were intrigued by the possibilities suggested by a romantic relationship between the powerful witch and the exotic demon, but, since neither Willow nor Giselle was good at keeping her feelings to herself, Buffy and Spike’s curiosity was sure be satisfied before long. In the meantime, the little family had the unusual luxury of several hours to kill with no commitments.

"Do you know what I need?' Buffy asked as she helped Spike smooth the spread over their bed.

Looking up from the pillow he was fluffing, eyes flinty, Spike kept his voice low as he replied, "God, please tell me it's not a fight or a fuck, because I'm truly knackered, even with the nap."

Buffy threw her pillow at his head, laughing. "No! For once I think I've had enough of both."

"Really, now! I don't suppose you'd be willing to put that in writing?” Spike asked as he retaliated with a blow to Buffy's butt. “I don't think I've ever heard you say that before."

"No, I'm not putting it in writing. Who would you show it to anyway?"

Spike pouted as he retrieved his pillow, placing it near the headboard. "No one...just myself, you know...for my own sense of achievement."

Buffy didn’t reply, but her strange expression prompted Spike. “What? You find it odd that I’m still so bleedin’ insecure that I need proof you’ve actually stayed satisfied for over an hour?”

Buffy snapped out of her brief reverie. “N-n-n-no, no…it’s not that! I was just imagining what the Boy Scout merit badge for sexual prowess would look like. I mean…if there was one.”

“Very funny, luv,” Spike said, giving her a fake smile. “But, thanks for the memory. Back in the day, Boy Scouts were very good eating, especially in the 60’s. It was damn difficult to find anyone to munch who wasn’t full of nasty drugs. But I could always count on the Boy Scouts. Very tender as a rule.”

Buffy grimaced. “Okay, that’s waaaay more than enough tripping down memory lane. Aren’t you even interested in what I need?”

“Always,” he purred, pulling her into his lap. “What is it, then? What does the Slayer-who-has-everything require to make her truly happy?” Wrapping his arms around her, Spike nuzzled Buffy’s neck as he waited for her reply.

Buffy pulled back just enough to look Spike in the eye. “I’m already truly happy,” she said. “But I think I could use a trip to a spa.”

Spike’s face fell. “What? You mean without us?” He’d blurted his true feelings without really thinking it through, then quickly realized his selfish desire to keep Buffy by his side was not necessarily fair to her. “She is a tireless warrior, after all,” he thought. “No question she deserves a bit of pampering”.

Rushing to correct his error, Spike added brightly, “But… I mean…I suppose the Widge and I could find some fun on our own--we always do.” Despite the quick recovery, there was no denying his disappointment. Who am I trying to kid? I don’t want her going off without us. Aware he was failing miserably at the whole selflessness thing, Spike still couldn’t help appending a plea. “But you don’t really mean to leave us?”

Buffy kissed him gently on the lips. “No,” she sighed. “Much as I’d love a facial, massage and herbal wrap, I couldn’t bring myself to go,” she said, running her fingers through his hair. “So can we have a spa day right here, the three of us?”

Spike sputtered a bit. “If a spa day is what you want, my sweet, then a spa day you shall have,” he said, employing his rarely used upper crust accent. “That is,” he said, reverting to his adopted working class inflection, “if you don’t mind telling me what exactly a spa day might be?”

*****

Three-quarters of an hour later, Buffy used the kitchen door to let herself into the house. She was carrying several bags from the local drug store where she’d gone to buy supplies – clay mask, nail polish, massage oil – and at least a dozen other necessities. Placing her acquisitions on the kitchen counter, Buffy could hear Joy giggling from the guest bathroom all the way down the hall. Following the happy sound, Buffy soon discovered what was inspiring all the laughter.

Joy was wrapped in a thick towel, fresh from the bath, and seated on a tall kitchen stool in front of the bathroom vanity. Behind her, Spike stood intently weaving strands of Joy’s long brown hair into French braids. There was no sound now, but only because Joy had her lips pressed tightly together to stop herself from laughing. Lacking a reflection, her father’s presence was indicated in the bathroom mirror only by what appeared to be floating locks of hair magically twisting themselves into flat, basket weave braids extending from Joy’s temples to the nape of her neck. As Buffy watched, Joy burst out into laughter again.

“Shhh, silly girl, and stop wiggling,” Spike hissed at her, his brow furrowed in concentration. “I’m going to have to start all over if you can’t stay still. It’s been a while since I’ve done this. If you don’t want to end up all crooked, you’re going to have to stop bouncing about!”

Suppressing her own impulse to laugh out loud, Buffy took in the scene with a mix of emotions. She was mostly charmed to watch her handsome, formerly evil vampire mate meticulously arranging their daughter's hair - a picture completely inconsistent with the wildly unconventional man to whom she was bonded for life. But she also felt a pang of jealousy and remorse as she remembered the first time Spike braided her hair.

She was laying naked in the four-poster, deep in the bowels of Spike's crypt, he'd used his fingers to comb through the tangles until her hair was smooth enough to coax into a matched set of golden plaits. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out he'd become proficient at this unusual skill after nearly a hundred years of practice braiding his vampire lover’s raven locks.

It was decades in the past, but Buffy would never forget the stab of pain she’d felt when she realized Spike had loved Drusilla for more years than she had any hope of living. That evening wasn’t the first or last time Buffy stormed out, away from Spike’s bed, still wet between her legs with their mingled love juices. It was one of many times she left behind the echo of one vile lie or another about how much he disgusted her. Back then, Buffy preferred to retreat into the safety of denial rather than admit he’d come to mean so much to her. Better to leave the cold comfort of his bed - punishing herself as much it punished him - than face the truth.

The unpleasant memory sent a cold shudder through Buffy’s body. Spike turned to look at her, curious about the change of rhythm in her pulse, still holding the ends of Joy’s now finished braids with his fingers. “What’s up, luv?” he asked. “You’re all pensive. Did you find all your potions and paints?”

Buffy shook off the unwelcome feelings and focused instead on her beautiful demon lover-turned hair stylist and her adorable daughter. “Yeah, I got it all!” she managed to say, though her mouth was dry.

“Mommy!” Joy squealed. “Do you like our surprise?”

“I love it,” she said, happy to let Joy’s grin banish the dark shadows of the past. “You look just like a princess!”

“It was Papa’s idea,” Joy added. “We wanted to surprise you so I took a really fast bath.”

“Yes, Widget,” Spike said, fastening a tiny gold barrette to keep the braids from coming undone. “And now you’re going to jump into your robe and get ready to watch your video.”

As soon as Spike helped Joy off the stool she shot down the hall to her room. He turned to Buffy and took her into his arms. “There was a cloud here a moment ago,” he said, searching her face. “But I think it’s gone now. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just thinking about the bad old days,” she admitted, scanning his features for some reassurance he still loved her, as though he too had remembered all the lying and betrayal. “You made it all better, though, like always.” Buffy let Spike wrap her in his embrace, loving the sensation of his lean, muscled body pressing against her. After a moment she pulled back, tilting her head to look up at his face. “Which video is she going to watch?”

“One of her favorites,” Spike said, trying his best to avoid answering the question.

Buffy wasn’t having it. “Hold on Big Bad,” she said, one hand on Spike’s chest. “Which video is it?”

Spike sighed deeply and dropped his hands to his sides as he faced her. “It’s the one you think it is, The Brave Little Toaster,” he said, with a pleading look. “She loves it. What’s the harm?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Buffy answered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “She’s already watched it 500 times. And it’s so weird. I just don’t know…”

Spike put his hands on Buffy’s shoulders and looked her straight in the eye. “No, luv, you don’t know. But I do. There’s nothing wrong with the video and there’s nothing wrong with letting her watch it. Her real life is way weirder than anything Disney ever made, right? Let’s see, she’s got a Slayer mother, vampire father, demon nanny, mystical key for an aunt, and a powerful witch for her ungodly mother. I think the Widget can handle a cartoon about animated household appliances. Beside, it’s at least 90 minutes long. So if you’ll just let us go ahead with the plan I can give you a really long, lovely massage. And there is absolutely no chance she’ll interrupt us when she’s watching that video. She won’t even go have a pee until it’s over.”

Spike’s argument melted her resistance. When Joy reappeared in her bathrobe, Buffy gave Spike a quick peck on the check and said she’d be waiting in the bedroom.

“Enjoy your video, Joy-Joy,” Buffy called as she skipped down the hall to the room she shared with Spike, the bag of spa supplies swinging by her side.

Tbc….

A/N: I apologize for taking so long to update. My life is in turmoil. Fortunately it’s mostly good stuff. But there is the little matter of the operation I have to have to remove a benign cyst from my salivary gland. Who knew you get a cyst in your salivary gland? Not me. But the good stuff outweighs the bad. I’ve quit my job to pursue teaching Pilates more-or-less fulltime. I’ve secured an apprenticeship with an amazing teacher. My son is graduating from high school, he’s been accepted at his first choice college, and he got a scholarship on the strength of his writing portfolio! I plan to get some writing done while I recover from the surgery in late May, so it shouldn’t be such a long drought before the next update.

Satindoll

The soundtrack of Joy’s video faded as Buffy padded down the hall. Spike preceded her into the room they shared and quickly switched on a small lamp on the floor. The resulting pool of light illuminated a nearly bare room. Buffy stood at the doorway blinking.

“What happened to all the furniture?” she asked, noting the absence of the bed and end tables that had been there when she’d left for the drugstore.

“It’s all still here,” Spike replied, directing her gaze to the closet behind her with his eyebrows, “I just rearranged it a bit for our spa day.”

“Gee, for a guy who needed me to define ‘spa’ this morning, you’ve certainly caught on quick,” Buffy said, grateful for Spike’s willing indulgence of her pampering fantasy. Looking around she recognized the sheet-covered massage mat as one of the gym pads from Dawn’s basement studio. Everything else that had been in the room was either tucked into the closet or stacked neatly in the corner and draped with the bedspread. “This could be a treatment room at the Golden Door.”

“That may be, luv,” Spike said, “but you don’t look like one of the Door’s filthy rich patrons dressed like that in your street clothes. Come on, now,” he added, “holding an open sheet at arms length in front of him, “shuck your duds so I can wrap you up in this. I promise not to look…for now anyway.” Buffy couldn’t see Spike’s face behind the sheet, but she could hear the leer in his voice.

“I never said anything about not looking…” she began.

“Yeah, but if I’m really going to give you a massage…as opposed to something else I can think of…the less I look, the better,” Spike interrupted. “This is going to be difficult enough just with the touching and feeling, let alone the added stimulus of seeing what it is I’m touching.”

Buffy smiled to herself as she complied with Spike’s request, shedding her clothes in a matter of seconds. “Put your arms up, luv,” Spike said, “and step forward.” Buffy sighed as Spike reached around her body to wrap her firmly in the sheet. Dropping her arms to his shoulders, they stood for a moment with their eyes closed, foreheads pressed together.

“This is good, yeah?” Spike asked, not needing an answer. Then, taking an unnecessary breath, he slipped out of Buffy’s embrace and gestured to the mat on the floor. “Get yourself situated there,” he said. “Face down to start. You can just lay the sheet over all the good parts. I’m going to go warm this massage oil for a minute. My cold hands won’t do without a little help. You okay?”

Buffy nodded, a dazed but happy expression on her face. “I’m good,” she said. “Go ahead, I’m not going anywhere.”

While Spike was gone, Buffy stretched out prone on the make-shift massage table, luxuriating in the feel of her bare skin against the cool sheet. She arranged the drape loosely over her back, covering everything from shoulders to heels. She’d had enough massages to know that although she was quite naked under the sheet, she needn’t feel particularly exposed. And, despite Spike’s lack of formal training, she suspected he would manage a credible version of a professional job. While the vampire once known as William the Bloody may not have frequented many spas, his hedonistic nature was sure to have taken him to places where massage was on the menu, along with god-knows-what else she’d rather not think about.

The sheet felt suddenly heavy and humid. Maybe it was the thought of all the possible items on the bill of fare back when Spike was still a member of the Scourge of Europe. Whatever the trigger, the sensation went from glow to suffocating heat in the space of a single breath and Buffy’s skin was stuck to the sheet with sweat before she could tear out of the now unbearably confining wrap. By the time Spike returned, Buffy had thrown off the sheet and was on her back, panting, as she waited for the hot flash to burn itself out.

“Oi, luv, you can’t be showing off like that if you really want a massage,” Spike whined when he took in the site of his mate’s naked form sprawled inelegantly across the mat. But he quickly checked his complaints when he realized what was happening. “Sorry, baby,” he said, tossing the unwanted bottle of warm massage oil onto the floor as he knelt at her side. “Here, let me cool you down,” he added as he blew his naturally chilled breath over her shiny, sweat-coated skin.

Spike’s intervention reaped immediate results: goose bumps sprouted everywhere his cool breath encountered Buffy’s fevered flesh, and he experienced a simultaneous tightening of the fabric around his crotch. Shifting to decrease the discomfort, Spike tried to keep his mind fixed on the performance of his duties as a masseur. Grabbing the edge of the sheet, he flipped it in the air so it would settle back over Buffy.

“My apologies, sweetheart,” he said through clenched teeth. “But I don’t know how much longer I could last with nothing between me and all your lovely skin. I hope you’re not too hot.”

Buffy twisted around until she was back on her tummy. “It’s okay, honey,” she said, her voice muffled by the mat. “It went away. I’m the one who should be apologizing for giving you an eyeful when you asked me not too. I was just too hot to stay covered.”

“No worries, luv,” he replied. “We’ll pretend it never happened. But I think I’ll dispense with the massage oil. What do you think?”

“Good idea,” Buffy said. “I think your cool hands will feel better under the circumstances.”

Spike brushed a gentle kiss between Buffy’s shoulder blades and commenced to massage her with all the skill of a trained professional. Starting with her shoulders, Spike kneaded the muscles until all the ropy tightness was gone. He worked Buffy’s back muscles, releasing all the tension she held there. Moving to her legs, Spike used his strong fingers to loosen the stiffness around her hip joints. He massaged her thighs and calves, never pressing too deep, always progressing steadily from one group of muscles to the next until he got to Buffy’s feet.

Before he started working on her lower extremities, Spike picked up the edge of the sheet holding it away from Buffy’s body, but in front of his face so he couldn’t see her. “Turn over, luv,” he said. “I’ve finished with this side.”

It took Buffy a moment to find her voice. “What? Oh, oh, yeah, okay,” she finally answered. “I don’t know where I was just now. You’ve got me so relaxed I just kind a floated away for a minute. Okay, I’m all turned over.”

Spike chuckled softly. “Yeah, luv, I could tell from your heartbeat you’d gone off somewhere. Hated to disturb you, but I need a different angle. I’ve been faking it up until now. But since I actually know what I’m doing when it comes to feet, I want to make sure you get the full effect.”

Buffy snorted, holding the sheet to her chest as she sat up. “Geez, if that was faking I don’t know if I can take the real thing. Is it possible for a person to get too relaxed?”

“You flatter me,” Spike said. “But we don’t have much time and I want to finish what I’ve started here. So if you would be kind enough to lie down, I’d like to get back to turning you into a mass of quivering Jell-o.”

Buffy giggled but added no further comment as she settled into the mat and closed her eyes. Far be it from me to keep a master from his craft, she thought.

Spike wasn’t fooling when he said he knew how to massage feet. His strong hands methodically found and obliterated every shred of tension in Buffy’s arches, toes, insteps, and heels. By the time he was done, she was literally drooling. Spike carefully wiped Buffy’s face before he roused her this time. She’ll never let me give her another massage if she knows I saw her with spit on her face, he thought.

“Come on, luv,” he whispered into her ear. “Wake up now. You can take a minute to gather your wits, but Joy’s movie is just ending and I have to go intercept her.”

Buffy tried to open her eyes for several seconds before she finally succeeded. “God, Spike!” she said. “What did you do to me? I feel like I’ve been drugged.”

“My method is 100% chemical-free,” he said, winking. “I’m all natural.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” Buffy said, her speech slightly slurred. “Natural, unnatural, I feel so good I wouldn’t care if you’d used chloroform!”

Seeing that Buffy was trying to sit without success, Spike grabbed her under the armpits and helped her up. “You’re on your own now luv, I’ve got to go. Here’s your robe. Slip it on and join us in the kitchen. We’re going to have a snack before we get dressed for the show.”

Buffy held onto Spike’s arm. “Wait,” she said, refusing to let him leave. “I have to ask you something.” Spike relented when he saw the look on her face.

“Okay,” he said, sitting on the edge of the mat and putting his hands on her shoulders. “Ask away.”

Buffy looked directly into his eyes. “What could I possibly have done to deserve you?” she asked.

Spike looked down for a second. When his eyes found hers again he was smiling broadly. “I ask myself that same question every day, Buffy. Every bleedin’ day.” He kissed her lightly on the forehead and disappeared out the door before she could say another word.

Tbc….


A/N: Please review. I'm a total slut for reviews!!

It took Buffy several minutes to gather her wits following Spike’s miraculously relaxing massage. After one false start, she managed to shove her arms into the sleeves of the kimono he handed her as he left. Tying the sash around her waist, Buffy planted her feet on the carpet and tried to push herself up from the mat. Her muscles were slow to respond and her head felt woozy, but she finally wobbled to standing and reached for the doorknob to stabilize herself. The dimly lit room seemed to swim for a moment and then everything settled down. “Hmmm, looks like the effects of Mr. Magic Fingers are short-term,” she thought, leaning against the jamb as she opened the door. “That’s too bad.”

As she stumbled into the hall, Buffy had to appreciate Spike’s wisdom in keeping Joy from barreling down the hall and into the arms of her massage-impaired mother. Returning from such a deep state of relaxation was taking awhile and it was not at all unpleasant. But colliding with thirty-two pounds of 4 year-old would have cut Buffy’s leisurely re-entry short. And that would have been a real shame.

Marshalling all her concentration, Buffy ventured to propel herself toward the kitchen. She could hear Spike and Joy’s voices, but the fog hadn’t lifted enough to understand them. Deliberately placing one foot in front of the other, Buffy made her way toward the happy sounds of her daughter’s laughter and Spike’s rumbling but unintelligible responses.

Turning the corner into the kitchen, Buffy had to close her eyes. “Ow!” she said. “Do the lights really need to be this bright? You two aren’t doing any brain surgery are you?”

Spike was standing at the counter holding a plate and Joy was seated at the table with a glass of milk in front of her. Both turned to face Buffy and burst into laughter.

“What’s so funny,” Buffy asked, completely bewildered at their response.

“It’s your hair, Mommy,” Joy giggled, “It’s really messy. You look like you combed your hair with an egg beater!”

“Oh I do, do I?” Buffy said as she reached out to scoop Joy out of her chair. “I bet you don’t even know what an egg beater is, Miss Smarty Pants!”

Joy squealed with delight as Buffy lifted her in the air and then dipped her down just long enough to plant a quick kiss on her nose. “No, but that’s what you always say to me when my hair is all messy,” she said. “You should have let Papa give you French braids like me.”

“Well maybe I’ll ask him to fix my hair after we all have something to eat,” Buffy replied as she helped Joy back into her chair. “What’s cooking?”

“I think the correct verb is ‘toasting’,” Spike replied, stepping close enough to gently smooth Buffy’s hair with his hands. “The movie inspired Joy to develop an entire menu of items cooked in a toaster.”

“Yeah, Mommy, what do you want?” Joy added with contagious enthusiasm. “We have toasted waffles, cinnamon toast, or toast with peanut butter and bananas, and pop tarts for dessert.”

“What about our vegetables?” Buffy asked, trying hard to look serious.

Joy turned to Spike, putting her hands on her hips. “See, I told you Mommy would want vegetables,” she said, a note of vindication in her voice.

“Yes, Widget, but I’m not putting carrots or celery in the toaster. They can go on the table, as is, or not at all,” Spike said, his voice firm. “What do you say?”

Joy’s look of defeat was fleeting as she agreed to serve the vegetables without toasting them first. “I still think they would be good hot,” she mumbled as Spike handed her a glass each of neatly cut lengths of carrot and celery so she could place them on the table.

The toaster popped and Spike quickly transferred two waffles onto the plate he was holding. Placing them on the table in front of Joy, he reached into the microwave to retrieve a small pitcher of syrup, already warmed.

Buffy slid into her chair. “I think I’ll have the toast with peanut butter and bananas,” she said. “That sounds like the most nutritious choice, and I’m starving.”

Spike pulled two slices of whole wheat bread out of a bag and dropped them in the toaster. “Coming right up,” he said, “Will that be open-face or closed?”

“Open, please,” Buffy replied, “That way I get more banana.”

Just then the kitchen door swung open and Willow walked in followed closely by Giselle. “What’s this about wanting more banana?” Willow asked, winking at Giselle. “It’s like we were just saying, Giselle, you two are still like newlyweds.”

“Very funny, Will,” Buffy said, not amused but glad Joy was too busy with her waffles to notice the lame joke. “What have you two been doing?”

“We set out to do some research on the intra-dimensional travel problem,” Willow began, “but Dawn had some costume emergencies at the dress rehearsal and we ended up helping her instead.”

Buffy perked up at the mention of Dawn. “Dawn needed help?” she asked. “What didn’t she ask me?”

Giselle put her hand on Buffy’s shoulder. “Not wanting you to be disturbed, Mrs. Buffy,” she said in her slightly fractured English. “Little sister say you need to break. Willow and we could help enough.”

Buffy nodded absently. “Oh, okay, I guess. It was nice to have some down time,” she said, dreamily remembering Spike’s amazing hands for a moment before she shook herself back to the moment. “So the emergencies are all fixed now?”

“Mostly,” Willow said, pouring herself some juice and joining Buffy and Joy at the table. “But Dawn still had a bunch of stuff to do so she won’t be back until after tonight’s performance. We got her some dinner before we left. She said we should all just show up by 7:00 and our tickets will be at ‘will call.’”

Spike put Buffy’s peanut butter and banana sandwich in front of her. “Sounds like a plan, then,” he said. “We’ll all go to the show. And when we get back here, Buffy and the Widget and I plan to head back home.”

Willow gave Giselle a meaningful look and when the purple-skinned demon nodded her approval, she spoke. “Do you have a place to stop over? Giselle can host you at her home dimension if you don’t.”

“Yes Mr. Spike,” Giselle added, “we will meet you my brothers and sisters.”

Spike glanced at Buffy before accepting the invitation. “We’d be honored to visit your family, Giselle,” he said. “Isn’t that right, Widget?”

Joy jumped up and ran to Giselle, wrapping her arms around the demon nanny’s long legs. “Yes, Gigi I want to meet your sisters and brothers.”

“That’s settled, then,” Spike said. “So, toast anyone?”

***

Spike and Buffy sat on either side of Joy in the third row of the packed auditorium. Willow and Giselle occupied the seats on Buffy’s right. The room darkened, the crowd hushed, and a spotlight followed as Dawn made her way along the edge of the stage until she was standing in the middle, a thick velvet curtain behind her. Dawn smiled as she looked out into the audience. “Welcome to the fall performance of Summers Dance Arts,” she began.

Although Buffy had seen Dawn up on stage introducing many recitals over the years, she always felt the same surge of pride that her “little sister” was responsible for such a big enterprise. Inevitably, tears formed in her eyes as she thought how proud her mother would be to see Dawn standing there, so beautiful and accomplished. Wiping her tears before they could fall, Buffy looked at Joy. Ever since she’d been born, Buffy found it easier to think about her mother. There was still sadness, but it was buffered by the presence of her mother’s namesake. Buffy decided it was because being a good mother to Joy was the best tribute to the memory of Joyce she could imagine.

The next thing Buffy knew, the music began and the curtain slid back to reveal a stage full of colorfully costumed dancers. The first number was an ensemble piece with dozens of dancers ranging from tiny preschoolers to young adults. Although Spike had brought a pillow to make sure Joy could see, she was too excited to sit on it. At first, she stood motionless in front of her seat, transfixed by the whirling and leaping on stage. But, after a few minutes, Joy pushed past Buffy’s knees and climbed into Willow’s lap. Cupping her hand around the witch’s ear, Joy leaned in close to whisper, and then looked at Willow expectantly. Willow shook her head, adamantly denying whatever it was Joy had asked. Joy looked surprised, but she gave Willow a quick kiss on the check and returned to her post, pushing past Buffy again to stand in front of her seat, eyes glued to the action on stage.

Buffy, unable to contain her curiosity, leaned over to ask Willow what Joy had whispered. “She wanted to know if they were using magic,” Willow said. “She thought the dancers must be under a spell to dance like that.”

Buffy smiled and reached across Joy’s vacant seat to take Spike’s hand. Turning to look at her, he responded to Buffy’s happy expression by quirking a smile in her direction, then he squeezed her hand before returning his gaze to the dancers.

“We are a strange but truly wonderful family,” Buffy thought. Then she, too, allowed herself to be caught up in the music and motion of the performance.

An hour later, after the final set of dancers took their bows to enthusiastic applause, Dawn returned to the stage just long enough to thank everyone for attending and encourage them to support the school’s scholarship program. As the lights came up the audience members stood, gathering their jackets and programs as they prepared to leave. Joy looked up at her parents, alarm etched in her expression.

“Is that all?” she asked, clearly distressed by the possibility the performance was over.

Buffy and Spike, both perplexed, nodded simultaneously. “Yeah, Widget,” Spike said, “the show is all done, but we get to go back stage to see Dawn and meet her friend now.”

Tears tumbled down Joy’s cheeks and her lower lip trembled for a moment before she clamped her mouth into a frown.

“What’s up Widg’?” Spike asked, kneeling to bring himself level with her rapidly crumpling face. “It was good, I know. Shame it had to end so soon, but why the waterworks?”

Joy let out a sob and threw herself into Spike’s arms. Over her head, he looked at Buffy in a state of total confusion. Joy buried her head in his shoulder and took a couple of gasping breaths before pulling back. “I d-d-didn’t get a t-t-turn!” she stammered. “I d-d-didn’t get to d-d-dance!”


Tbc…

A/N: Please leave me a review. I always feel more inspired to write when readers let me know they are enjoying the story. I even like to get constructive criticism. Really!

Dawn sighed with relief and made a mental note to give Joy a really fabulous birthday present. The little girl’s meltdown following the dance performance had kept Spike slightly distracted the whole time he and the rest of the visitors were backstage meeting her new boyfriend. Despite many years of domestication, she feared Spike could easily slip into Big Bad mode if he thought anyone, or anything, threatened to abuse, harm, or even disappoint one of his girls. With Joy’s unwitting assistance, the introductions had gone very smoothly, with absolutely no one getting bitten.

As Dawn accompanied Buffy, Spike, Joy, Dawn, Willow, and Giselle to the parking lot she felt good, very good, about the whole evening. “What do you think?” she asked Buffy as they approached the car.

Buffy stopped walking, letting the rest of the group get several paces ahead. “What do I think about what?” she replied, smirking. “Are you asking how I liked the show or the guy?”

Dawn put her hands on her hips and smirked right back at her. “The guy, of course!” she said. “What do you think of him?”

“I think he’s great,” Buffy said, smiling at her sister. “But what happened to keeping him a secret from Spike? All of a sudden Willow says we’re meeting you and the boyfriend backstage, just like a normal family. There was no way I could keep Spike from coming.”

“Yeah, sorry about that…I guess I changed my mind,” Dawn said. “After Willow and Giselle spent half the afternoon helping me with costumes I felt silly about making you and Spike wait. They’d already met Tom. The cat was pretty much out of the bag, so…”

Buffy stared at Dawn. “You do realize what you just said, right?” she asked. “Tom. Cat out of the bag. Tom, cat. You are head over heels, aren’t you? I can’t think of any other reason you would say something so lame!”

Dawn covered her face with her hands for a moment, and then peeked out through her fingers to look at her sister. “You might have something there,” she said sheepishly. “I do get all stupid and gooey when he’s around. It’s either love or I’m allergic to him.”

Buffy took Dawn’s arm and pulled her along toward the car. Spike watched them approach, Joy slung over his shoulder and snoring. “Well at least you don’t haul off and punch him in the nose,” Buffy said quietly. As usual it was no use whispering, Spike heard everything.

“Ah, luv, I’ve told you a thousand times to stop worrying about that! Violence and brutality is perfectly normal for Slayer/vampire relationships,” he said, keeping his voice low to avoid waking Joy. “We are the exception because we eventually got beyond all that to something even better,” he continued, winking to underscore his lascivious intent. “But what I want to know is what’s what with Miss Niblet here.” he said, eyes full of mischief. “Gone all weak in the knees for your cowboy, have you?”

Dawn took a deep breath before answering. “He’s not a cowboy, Spike. He sells wine making equipment.”

“Then why does he wear cowboy boots?” Spike asked, eyebrows lifted to suggest innocent curiosity.

“Maybe because he likes them…” Dawn started to reply, but Spike cut her off.

“Never mind. What matters is, they’re very good cowboy boots,” he said. “Definitely the real thing. Otherwise I’d be calling him your ‘wannabe cowboy’.”

Dawn was too stunned to speak.

“He’s okay. The boots are good, really good,” Spike said, looking sincere. “And he smells alright, too.”

“Eww!” Dawn and Buffy said simultaneously. “Do you really have to do that?” Dawn asked.

“What? You’re just jealous ‘cause I can smell all the important stuff: booze, sex, and fear,” Spike responded. “But I didn’t smell any on your cowboy. Which means a great deal, since I’m sure you let him know one way or the other this little meet-up was putting your nerves on end. He has nothing to hide. He’s straight ahead, niblet, so I suggest you think about returning the favor. Since the two of you haven’t yet done the deed….”

“Spike! Do you really have to share everything you learn from sniffing people?” Buffy asked, exasperated with her mate.

“I’m just saying the guy seems alright. But if Dawn waits until after…” Looking at Buffy, he knew he shouldn’t finish his thought. “You know…after…he’s going to feel different about it than if she tells him now while he’s got more hormones fogging his brain. And if Dawn wants this to get serious she shouldn’t wait to find out he’s squeamish about her not-totally-human origins.” Sighing now, Spike looked at Dawn with obvious warmth and love as he slightly shifted Joy’s weight on his shoulder. “I don’t want you getting hurt again, niblet, at least not anymore than absolutely necessary. If you’re… intimate with him, and it turns out he can’t handle the truth, it will just hurt more.”

Buffy slid her arm around Dawn’s waist. “He has a point, Dawn,” she said, giving Spike the benefit of her smile. “I don’t get to say it very often, but fang boy here is right.”

“Yeah, I’m feeling the rightness too,” Dawn conceded. “Now that he’s met all of you it might be a little easier to explain. I mean, saying Giselle’s from Ethiopia fooled most of the moms backstage, but I don’t think Tom was really going for it.”

“Yeah niblet, start with the demon nanny from an alternate dimension,” Spike laughed. “Once Tom’s accepted that much, the witch, vampire, Vampire Slayer, and mystical key will be a cakewalk.”

Dawn’s posture slumped in response to Spike’s comment. “No, no, none of that, Dawn,” Buffy mock scolded her. “It’s going to work out this time. He’s a keeper. I can tell. Just take it slow and let him absorb it in little doses. There’s no hurry, right? Other than Christmas, ‘cause it would be so cool if you’d bring him to London for Christmas.”

Dawn perked up at the thought of celebrating the holidays in London. “That would be so much fun!” she said, beaming. “I’ll start breaking the news as soon as everything settles down. Now that the performance is over I have a couple weeks before I start teaching again. I promised Joy I’d come visit during my break, but otherwise I don’t have any plans,” Dawn said, turning to Spike. “And I think I owe you an apology, Big Bad Brother-in-Law.”

Spike was nonplussed. “What for?”

“I was so worried you’d bite him I completely forgot how you look out for me,” she said, a tear slipping down her cheek. “You’re always looking out for me. I shouldn’t have forgotten that…even for a minute.”

“Ah, niblet, please stop blubbering,” Spike said, brushing Dawn’s hair out of her face and resting his hand on her cheek. “I’d just as soon you took it for granted, you know, it’s what I do, nothing to think about, really. Please, no more tears. I only just finished drying the Widget’s face. Come on.”

Dawn brushed her tears away with the back of her hand and tried to smile. “Okay,” she said. “But you have to wait until I get back before you leave for London. Tom’s bringing me home. That way I can say goodbye and you can have one more chance to check him out. Okay?”

Spike looked at Buffy, who nodded her agreement. They each gave Dawn a kiss on the cheek and then climbed in the car with Willow and Giselle. Spike tucked the still sleeping Joy gently into her car seat and they took off for Dawn’s house.

“You were great back there, honey,” Buffy said sliding her hand along Spike’s leg as he drove. “Dawn’s right, you do always look out for her.”

“Yeah,” Spike said, his eyes firmly on the road. “Well, the guy seems okay.”

“I think so too, even without your super smelling powers,” Buffy said, watching the scenery whiz by outside. “I want her to have someone to love,” she said, squeezing Spike’s leg. “It just makes everything so much better.”

“Well, I’m hoping this is the one,” he said. “But Willow can always do one of her little memory wipes if he gets his knickers in a twist when he learns all about us. I just hope we won’t have to resort to that this time.”

Buffy sighed. “Yeah, that would be good.”

“At least not until I find out where he bought those boots,” Spike added, mostly to himself, as he pulled into Dawn’s driveway.


Tbc……………..

A/N: You know I love reviews. Reviews make me want to write more, really, they do! ;)

By the time they heard Tom’s pick-up in the driveway, the five travelers were ready to go. Spike carried the small duffle bag he shared with Buffy. The tiny bag was only practical because she kept her California wardrobe at Dawn’s. Joy’s back pack, complete with Mr. Pig peeking out on top, was packed, zipped, and propped against the couch where its owner was quietly sawing logs. Willow could fit a month’s worth of clothing and accessories into her handbag. Long ago, much to her embarrassment, she had admitted the enchanted bag was inspired by Mary Poppins. Giselle, the lightest traveler of all, changes outfits by shape-shifting and only needs a wallet-sized pouch for the pellets of highly-concentrated food she consumes when away from home. (Giselle had once confided that Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups could sustain her if she ever ran out, but she really doesn’t care for the taste.)

They were all standing in the living room, with their amazingly-minimal gear, when Dawn and Tom surprised everyone by using the front door.

“Time to stop treating the bloke like company and see if he’ll rise to the challenge,” Spike muttered, mostly to himself, as Dawn escorted her beau into the house.

“Shh!” Buffy hissed. “We talked about this and you agreed to give him a chance. Remember?”

Spike had to look away for a moment. Although he finally nodded in reply, Buffy could see the tension in his jaw. “I just don’t want her wasting a lot of time on some wanker who won’t be there for her,” he whispered, careful to be sure the others couldn’t hear. “You know?”

“Yeah,” Buffy sighed. “I know. But please just hang in for a bit. We need to let Dawn take this at her pace.”

Buffy didn’t see the smirk on Spike’s face as he turned to follow the others into the kitchen.

Now that another successful performance was behind her, Dawn was in a celebratory mood. But she was still stunned when Tom pulled a bottle of champagne out of her refrigerator and proposed a toast.

“How long has that been in there?” Dawn asked.

“At least a week,” Tom said, laughing. “I was all stealthy about it, too. I needn’t have bothered, though. You were way too preoccupied with the show and your visitors to notice.”

Spike watched closely as Dawn took in Tom’s comment. Turning to face him, she searched his face for a beat and then reached up to touch his cheek. “I’m sorry if you felt neglected,” she said, with real regret. “I should probably be honest and tell you that it’s always like this. Twice a year, every year, I get completely lost in my work. There’s just so much to do in such a short time. I’m afraid I’m always pretty frantic, especially toward the end.”

Tom took her hand, shaking his head. “You really don’t need to apologize,” he said. “I think what you do with your students is amazing. I’ll admit I’m glad you’ll have a chance to relax for a couple weeks, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. You clearly love what you’re doing. Why would I ever want you to apologize for that?”

Only Spike witnessed Dawn and Tom’s revealing interaction. The others were too busy finding glasses and arguing about who got to open the bottle. He stood very still, as only a vampire can, hoping he’d get to witness what came next. But the sound of the champagne cork bouncing off the ceiling interrupted the moment. Willow quickly shoved glasses into their hands and the two not-so-young lovers joined the melee as everyone tried to catch the bubbles as they cascaded down the sides of the bottle.

When they had salvaged enough to fill five glasses, and mopped up the rest from the floor, Tom raised his glass. “To the most talented, hard-working, and beautiful dance teacher in the entire state!”

Dawn looked both pleased and embarrassed as everyone took a sip, but Spike couldn’t help noticing that her eyes actually sparkled when she looked at Tom. In retrospect, he would later claim, that sparkle was the last straw.

“Alright then,” he announced, placing his empty glass on the kitchen counter, “time to go!”

Buffy looked up from her half-consumed champagne in confusion, but Spike and Giselle were already in motion, both following Willow into the living room.

“Wait a sec’,” Dawn called after them. “I thought you guys were going to let me…you know…take you…you know…after. I mean…when Tom goes home I can drive you…”

No one responded, so Buffy, Tom and Dawn left their glasses behind and joined the others in the living room.

When they got there, Spike had already roused Joy just enough to put on her backpack. They watched as he hoisted her into his arms where she quickly settled back to sleep on his shoulder. Picking up the duffle with his other hand, Spike lifted his chin to summon Buffy to his side. “Come on, luv,” he said. “Time for us to hit the road.”

She began to protest, but the determined set of Spike’s features made her hesitate. Then she noticed Giselle and Willow standing nearby smiling pleasantly, but saying nothing. “Something is definitely going on here,” Buffy thought. “And it looks like I’m going to be among the last to know what it is.”

Seeing that Spike already had the votes to win in the event of a ballot, Buffy decided to go with the flow. She turned to Dawn and wrapped her arms around her for a big hug. “He’s right,” she said, pulling back to look meaningfully into Dawn’s eyes. “It is time for us to get out of the way. You’ve worked hard for weeks. You need to rest. Having company, especially family, is never restful. We’ll go. That way you can spend a little time with Tom instead of sending him home.”

Tom was perplexed. Dawn had gone from animated to wooden in a matter of moments. No one had said anything to cause distress; it all seem like a modest change in plans. And it didn’t make sense for Dawn to be upset about her guests making their own way to the airport. As far as Tom was concerned, Spike was going out of his way to ease the burden on Dawn, not to mention creating the opportunity for some long overdue alone time with his sweetheart. While he didn’t relish the idea that Dawn was disappointed with Plan B, he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. A house free of guests and a little more champagne could easily lead to some quality time on the couch with Dawn. For his own selfish reasons Tom wasn’t at all opposed to letting the travelers go without an argument.

Dawn, seeing resistance was futile, smiled weakly. “Well, then,” she said, a bit stiffly, “have a safe trip home.”

Spike shifted Joy on his shoulder so he could extend a hand to Tom. “You’ll be good to this lady if you know what’s good for you,” he said, smiling to keep his tone light despite the tough talk. “It was good to meet you.” Then Spike gave Dawn a kiss on the cheek and winked at her ostentatiously behind Tom’s back.

Buffy, Willow, and Giselle also exchanged embraces with the pair before the party of five stepped purposefully into the entry hall. Willow held out an amulet to open the portal and they all walked through, waving as they disappeared from view.

As soon as they were gone, Dawn drew her palm across the portal to close it again. Turning back, she held out her hand out to Tom who was standing very still with his mouth open. “Here, honey,” she said, sighing as she took his arm. “Sit down on the couch. I’ll get our champagne and try to explain what just happened.”

Tbc…………

It was mere moments between their departure from Dawn’s living room and arrival in Giselle’s home dimension. The nanny’s family greeted the travelers and immediately asked them to extend their visit until the next day, and Willow enthusiastically endorsed the idea of a layover. She couldn’t be sure exactly how long Joy needed to stay in the alternate dimension to prevent splitting apart again, no one wanted to take any chances, and Giselle’s relations were clearly ready, willing and able to offer very gracious hospitality to the little band of visitors. With almost no discussion, they all agreed to accept the invitation.

Giselle’s seventeen siblings gathered nearby as soon as word of Joy’s arrival spread. Although capable of adopting any form, it would have been considered extremely rude for Giselle or her siblings to assume anything other than a humanoid shape when entertaining human guests. While none of the locals could match a normal human flesh tone, they managed a pleasing assortment of plums, lavenders, and burgundies. But except for these slight variations in color, Giselle’s brothers and sisters all looked very much alike in their humanoid form, with the only differences discernable between the males and females.

Before introducing her brothers and sisters to Joy, Giselle explained to her that they would all look just like her. Knowing their identical appearance might still prove disconcerting, Giselle shape-shifted herself a fuzzy, lime green sweater so the little girl would always know which one of the nine sisters was her very own nanny. Joy listened intently to Giselle’s explanation and then implemented her own strategy for avoiding any mistaken identity by sitting stiffly on Giselle’s lap, a fistful of the fuzzy, green sweater in one hand, as each of the seventeen siblings came forward to touch her other hand in greeting

Buffy, Spike and Willow watched when Giselle’s family gathered around Joy as if she were visiting royalty. Spike used his superior hearing to monitor the steady thump of Joy’s heart - an unobtrusive means of assessing her reaction to the crowd of look-alikes. Poised to swoop in and remove her in literally the space of a heartbeat, Spike was absolutely still as he listened to his little girl’s reaction to the crush of well-wishers. Unfazed, Joy’s little ticker never registered more than excitement. And, when Giselle’s family began to tell stories of her beloved nanny’s youth, Joy’s pulse returned to normal.

Spike took an unneeded breath when Joy leaned back, molding herself into the crook of Giselle’s arm. Convinced their little girl was going to be busy for quite a while, he looked around for a comfortable place for the three of them wait. But Giselle’s family had other plans.

Parents in this dimension are held in very high esteem for the exhausting effort required to raise a pod of eighteen offspring. While only one or two children from each pod become parents, the remaining child-free adults are expected to contribute to the well-being of the next generation. They do this by pitching in to baby sit, cook, clean, and otherwise assist in keeping house for the parents and their children. The community also maintains vacation cottages especially designed to provide privacy, respite and relaxation for parents.

Even though Spike and Buffy had only one child, Giselle’s relations applied the same philosophy to caring for them. With Joy happily occupied, it was simply assumed they would want to be alone. Knowing Joy was perfectly safe and content, Spike and Buffy waved goodbye to Willow and allowed themselves to be escorted a short distance to a small secluded house surrounded with a beautiful garden. Their hosts took them as far as the door and then quickly departed, briefly touching Spike and Buffy’s hands as they left. The soft click of the door sounded behind Giselle’s retreating relations as Spike and Buffy turned wide-eyed to survey their temporary quarters.

The first thing Buffy noticed was the thick, plush carpet covering the floor. Without a word she slipped out of her shoes and dug her toes into the soft pile. Spike dropped their little duffle bag on the floor and plopped down onto a velvet-upholstered couch. Leaning back into a dozen plush, squishy pillows he sighed audibly.

“Gotta’ give inter-dimensional travel its due, luv,” he said sinking even deeper into the sofa. “Setting aside our recent misadventures, I could easily get used to this.”

“I know what you mean,” Buffy replied, her voice slightly muffled. “This place is amazing.”

Spike looked over to see Buffy, now stripped to her underwear, sprawled prone on the carpet. “Buffy, luv, you look ever so fetching in those skivvies,” he said, voice already husky with lust. “But you’d look even better over her on this comfy sofa.”

“Liar!” she replied, writhing slowly on the floor. “You always say you hate this bra and panties. You called them ‘useful,’ the last time I wore them.”

Spike sat up looking mildly confused. “I’m sure the word was ‘utilitarian.’”

“More than likely,” Buffy agreed, “because you would be the guy who insists on words with extra syllables even when they mean exactly the same thing.”

“Well I am sorry if I disparaged your knickers. I don’t know what I was thinking,” he added, caressing the luxurious upholstery with both hands. “But what I really want to know is why you won’t come over here?”

"Hmmm. I could ask you the same thing. Do you think that sofa is enchanted?”

Spike growled softly as he rolled back into the cushions. “Arghhhhhhhh! If I didn’t feel so blooding fucking fantastic, I’d be really pissed off right now.”

“So that would be a ‘yes’?”

“’Fraid so, my love,” he said, turning onto his side to observe Buffy as she rubbed the front of her body against the carpet. “What are we going to do about it?”

“I don’t know. It’s really hard to think when I’m this turned on.”

Spike was too busy removing his own clothes to respond immediately. Once he’d shed his boots, shirt, and jeans, he wasted no time taking his erection in hand. Eyes glued to his brazenly self-pleasuring wife, Spike stroked his impressive length firmly from bottom to top.

“I know what you mean, luv,” he said, finally. “Whatever this spell is, I don’t think it was calibrated for humans or vampires.”

Buffy groaned as her fingers reached into the front of her panties. “Yeah, well whoever cast it was way into interior decorating because it’s concentrated in the furniture.”

Watching Buffy’s hand move up and down in her pussy, Spike didn’t have to touch her to know she was dripping wet. Expertly pumping his throbbing member, Spike struggled to come up with a solution to their dilemma. “So, maybe we can meet halfway if we don’t try to break contact with the high quality pile and fabric.”

“We can try,” Buffy said, panting as her fingers rhythmically thrummed her now engorged clit, “in a minute.”

Spike’s affirmative response was more of a strangled roar as his climax coincided with Buffy’s.

Momentarily spent, they paused for only an instant before beginning to crawl toward each other. Spike, by sliding down onto the carpet, while keeping one foot firmly against the sofa cushion. Buffy, by pulling herself forward, without actually rising from the floor. They tangled into a feverish embrace when they met in the middle.

“I bloody well hope these demons thought to enchant the bed,” Spike said as he picked up Buffy and lurched toward the bedroom.

“I thought you hated magicks,” she said, reaching down to squeeze his butt with one hand.

“Yeah, you’re right. I don’t care for being out of control,” he said, without removing his mouth from her neck. “But if I have to be out of control, this is definitely the way to go.”

*******
“So, let me see if I have this straight,” Tom said slowly. “Your sister is a Vampire Slayer, your brother-in-law is a vampire, Willow’s a witch, and you’re a key that opens portals to alternate dimensions like the one their nanny comes from. Is that right?”

Dawn pursed her lips and nodded. “Yeah, you’ve got the gist.”

“What about Joy? Is she also…unusual?”

Dawn shrugged. “We don’t really know,” she began. “She seems normal so far. But it might be too early to tell. Her mother didn’t develop powers until puberty. Joy’s origins are unique so we can’t really be sure about anything.”

Tom sighed. “Well at least for now I can count on there’re being at least one other person without supernatural powers at family gatherings.”

“So, it looks like you’re not totally wigging out on me,” Dawn said, smiling but with her eyebrows raised. “Is that because you’re really accepting my whole bizarre family or do you just think you’re asleep and this is all a strange dream?”

“Neither,” Tom said, gently pulling Dawn’s naked body against his as he settled back into the pillows of her bed. “I think it’s largely because of the way you demonstrated how most of you works just like a real girl,” he said chuckling. “That, and the fact that you fucked my brains out so I have no gray matter left with which to ‘wig’.”

“All part of my evil plan,” Dawn said, nuzzling Tom’s neck and sliding her leg over his. “I’m so glad it’s working.”

“Yeah,” Tom replied, “but for the record, I want you to know I didn’t buy that bit about Giselle being from Ethiopia.”

“Duly noted,” Dawn said, reaching around under the sheets for something firm to hang onto. “Now, do you have any objection to continuing the demonstration?”

“You mean there’s more?” he asked, grinning.

Tbc…….

A/N: Let me know what you think of this chapter. I love to hear from readers.

One moment, the London house stood empty—dust motes silently floating in the beams of sunlight streaming through its treated skylights—the next, Spike was standing in the entry hall with Joy snoring softly into his shoulder. Buffy arrived a split second later, walking through the same inter-dimensional portal and onto the thick carpet.

“Good to be home,” Spike sighed, brushing a light kiss across Buffy’s forehead. “I’ll take the widget up to her bed. Be back in a jiff.”

Setting Joy’s backpack onto the floor, Buffy wandered around the living room, appreciating the familiar scene until drawn by a seemingly-magnetic force to the kitchen. She was standing in front of the open refrigerator when Spike returned from tucking in Joy.

“What is it about looking in the fridge whenever I come home from a trip?” she asked, not really expecting a reply.

“Dunno,” Spike said, “but you always did it back in Sunnydale too. At least these days there’s something inside besides dried-up old pizza and spoiled milk.”

Buffy’s brow knit together briefly, but her face quickly resolved into a wistful expression as she gazed into the well-stocked refrigerator. “Yeah, I guess my house-keeping has improved since then.”

Stifling a guffaw, Spike reached over Buffy to open the freezer door. “What’s improved is the Council’s appreciation of everything you and the other slayers do,” he said, snagging a bag of blood. “Nowadays, as long as we tell them what we need, they make sure we have it. Should’a been that way all along.”

Ignoring Spike, Buffy selected a container of yogurt. Closing the refrigerator, she took a teaspoon from the drawer. She’d just scooped up a perfectly proportioned mouthful of fruit and yogurt when she turned to see Spike, in full game face, ripping into the bag of blood. “Ewww,” she said, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “I hate it when you do that!”

Spike rolled his eyes but did not pause, finishing off the pint with one last deep pull. “Bloody hell, Buffy,” he finally responded, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “After all the blood and gore you’ve seen I’d have thought you could tolerate my having a bit of tiffin without going all prissy on me.”

Buffy shrugged as she took another spoonful of yogurt. “Yeah,” she said, looking thoughtful as she licked her lips, “you’d think I’d have gotten used to it by now. But did you ever think maybe it’s a good thing you going all fangy has never gotten routine?”

Spike looked at Buffy, mildly surprised at her observation. “No question about it, sweet one,” he purred. “Because if I recall correctly, when I’m not putting you off your yogurt, you find my fangs right sexy. Isn’t that so?”

Buffy polished off the last spoonful of yogurt as Spike snaked his arms around her from behind, pulling her body against his. She sighed contentedly and pressed her backside into his groin. “Yeah, you got me there, big guy,” she admitted. “But even without your game face—or an enchanted bungalow—you’ve never had to work very hard to keep me interested.”

Spike groaned softly. “What?” she asked, feigning innocence.

“You said ‘hard’,” he whimpered.

“Upstairs?”

“Yes, right now.” Wasting no time, Spike picked Buffy up and strode toward the stairs, only to stop abruptly when he noticed she was waving something around in the air. After a quick detour to deposit her empty yogurt carton and spoon on the kitchen counter, he resumed his rapid ascent—taking two stairs at a time—until they reached the upstairs landing.

“Should we check on Joy?” Buffy asked as they approached her door.

“No need,” Spike said. “She takes after her mother. I can hear her sawing logs from here. The widget is deep in dreamland.”

“Are you sure?” Buffy whispered. “I have a feeling this is going to be loud. I don’t want her to wake up.”

“I’m sure,” Spike said, turning to place Buffy’s shoulders against the wall. He wrapped her legs around his waist and leaned in to press his erection into her crotch. “You’re right about the loud part. But you don’t have to worry. The sound-proofing keeps her from hearing us but I can still hear her, just in case.” He nuzzled her neck, delivering a tried-and-true nip to the flesh just below her ear. Buffy squirmed.

“So what’s the hold up?” she panted urgently. “Let’s go!”

Spike scooped Buffy into his arms again and carried her down the hallway and through their bedroom door in the space of a heartbeat. Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t have stopped until they were on the bed and naked. But he had carefully planned this moment and restraint was required to ensure the appropriate, appreciative response.

“Why are we stopping? Less stopping, please!” Buffy demanded.

“Not until you see what I’ve done,” Spike replied.

Buffy was not to be deterred. Demonstrating her superior strength, she flipped out of Spike’s arms, threw him unceremoniously on the bed, and leaped after him.

She landed over him on all fours, pinning his shoulders to the bed. “What part of ‘now’ do you not understand?” she asked. Spike thought about protesting, but the sight of her eyes smoldering with lust like a she-cat in heat was too much for him.

“Forget it,” he breathed, vamping out so he could save time by slicing through Buffy’s jeans and top. In seconds, the offending garments fell away from her body like so much confetti along with the tattered remains of her bra and panties. Spike admired his handy work for one full second. Then, grabbing a hipbone in each hand, he brought Buffy’s pussy to his mouth. She gasped as he began to probe her vulva with his rough tongue. He couldn’t help grinning into her hot flesh, but no matter how much he enjoyed listening to her screams, he didn’t want to leave her tender tissues abraded and raw. Melting back to his human face, and smoother tongue, he proceeded to suck and lick with abandon. Buffy’s appreciation did not seem to suffer as she writhed against his vigorous ministrations, breathlessly crying out with pleasure.

Spike settled in for a regular siege on Buffy’s cunt. He’d always prided himself on his skill with his tongue and liked to keep his reputation current. He wouldn’t be ready to relinquish his post between Buffy’s legs until satisfied she’d hit 8 or 9 on the Richter scale at least twice. After devoting himself assiduously to his task for several minutes Spike could tell he was in safe territory. Buffy, now hoarse from screaming, was reduced to pitiful whining.

With one last luxurious swirl of his tongue, Spike filled his mouth with Buffy’s juices and released his hold on her hips, letting her body drop next to him on the bed.

“Oh my,” she said, lying inert as Spike scooted up the bed until his face was level with hers. “That was…loud,” she rasped.

“Just as you requested,” Spike answered, wearing a smug smile.

Buffy lifted her head slightly to take in his expression. “It was more of a prediction, I think,” she said, dropping back into the bed. “But, whatever inspired you, it was…you know, inspired.”

“When you’ve recovered, I was hoping we might find your muse as well.”

“No problem, honey,” Buffy replied as she reached over to caress Spike’s impressive erection. “It’s not exactly keeping a low profile, now is it?”

Buffy was every bit as vain about her talents in the bedroom as her husband, though she lacked his intense powers of concentration. Try as she might to maintain her focus, Buffy often woke up after a bout of love making to the realization Spike had, once again, distracted her from maximizing his pleasure. Many times she’d asked him to let her finish what she started, but he claimed nothing she did to him mattered more than bringing her to the absolute heights of sexual fulfillment. Watching her now, skin flushed with a post-orgasmic blush, he silently vowed to restrain himself a bit longer than usual. It wasn’t fair to deny her the delight of pleasing him. And from the way Joy was snoring they didn’t have to worry about running out of time for quite a while.

Buffy wrapped her small hands around Spike’s cock and gave it a gentle squeeze. His eyes rolled back in his head as he sighed deeply. “Okay baby,” he breathed, “it’s your turn now.”

Relaxing into the bedding, Spike remembered the surprise he’d been planning to reveal, but when Buffy’s hot, wet lips circled the tip of his engorged member he quickly forgot it again.

Spike’s mastery of tongue-work was a skill finely honed over decades. If Buffy had ever had the presence of mind to think about it, she might have wondered about the other women—dozens, hundreds, perhaps dozens of hundreds—upon whom he’d practiced all those years before she was even born. Fortunately, she was always far too consumed with pleasure to form much in the way of logical thought once Spike settled in to dine on his beloved. He was so good Buffy never had a synapse to spare for connecting the dots—definitely of the good because jealousy rendered Buffy both thoroughly irrational and extremely cranky.

On the other hand, when Buffy crawled slowly up Spike’s legs to bring her eyes level with his crotch; he didn’t have to worry about where she’d learned to flick her slippery, warm tongue so expertly. He knew who taught her to emphasize friction at his glans, pressure on his shaft, and teasing, tickling caresses all around his testicles. She’d figured out all by herself how to make him catch his breath by stroking the smooth patch of flesh between the based of his penis and his anus. But he knew she’d never employed the technique on any other man. While Buffy may have experienced sex with a handful of other partners, none had schooled her as he had.

As for feeling jealous, Spike was more likely to pity the poor fool who’d let Buffy out of his bed. As far as he could tell, she was determined to spend the rest of their lives together making up for the way she’d treated him in the bad old days. And, while he’d forgiven her long, long ago, he’d learned to save his (unnecessary) breath arguing with her about it.

Coherent thought vanished from Spike’s brain when Buffy hit upon a particularly effective rhythm that combined stroking, squeezing, licking and sucking his throbbing, almost painfully engorged cock. Just before losing control, the idea flashed through his mind that she’d stimulated nerve endings never previously recruited in the service of an orgasm. But the incompletely formed thought was totally swept away in the wake of an unbelievably powerful climax that left him spent, panting, and spread eagle on the bed, Buffy collapsed beside him.

“Buffy, luv, what did you just do to me?” he asked when he was able. “No, forget it, don’t answer. As soon as I recover I’m going to shag you senseless, but before I forget again, please look at our bed.”

Buffy pushed up on her elbows to regard Spike with a confused expression. “Look at our bed? Why, what’s up with our bed?”

“Just look and you’ll see,” he replied weakly.

“Okay,” she said, clearly confused. “I’m looking but other than it not being destroyed yet, I’m not really seeing anything unusual.”

“Precisely.”

“Precisely what?” she asked.

“It’s not destroyed now,” he said, “and it won’t be, because you are lucky enough to be married to a brilliant bloke.”

“Maybe you gave me one too many orgasms honey, ‘cause I am not following…”

Before she could finish Spike reached up behind him and grabbed the corner of the sheet. Pulling the high thread-count linen toward the middle of the bed, along with the mattress pad underneath, he revealed a shiny, heavy-duty, royal blue surface.

“Oh my God,” Buffy said, eyes wide, “it’s a gym mat.”

“Yes, luv,” Spike said. “But not just any gym mat. This one is custom made exactly the size of a king-size bed. I ordered it when we were in California. Cost a pretty penny to get it here in time, too. But after our romp in Dawn’s basement I knew it was the solution to your little problem.”

“My problem?” Buffy flared with indignation. “Since when am I the one with the razor sharp claws?”

“Never mind whose problem it is. Okay?” Spike replied. “Just help me put the sheet back where it belongs. I seriously need to fuck you right now and I don’t want to get all tangled up in this mess.”

Buffy might have demurred, but Spike’s logic was sound. If they started going at it with the sheets half off it could only end badly. Joy was still fast asleep and they had a new bed to break-in. Nothing was going to be prioritized higher than that.

FIN