** Oooo, Looky another chapter within less than a month. Don't go gettin' all spoiled now ;p Enjoy!**
Chapter Forty ~ Lover Lay Down
“Spring sweet rhythm dance in my head,
Slip into my lover's hands.
Kiss me oh won't you kiss me now?
And sleep I would inside your mouth.
Don't be us too shy
Knowing it's no big surprise -
That I will wait for you.
I will wait for no one but you.
Look please lover lay down.
Spend this time with me.
Together share this smile
Lover lay down…”
~ The Dave Mathews Band
Buffy was a mass of conflicting emotions - sorrow about Giles, rage towards Faith, sadness about her friend’s reactions and last but not least; heartfelt gratitude for Spike. He’d championed her like no one else in her life EVER. Stood up to her friends and Watcher and told them off for their unkindness in a way that left her stunned and for once in her life, silent. She was overwhelmed by his love and couldn’t think for the life of her how she’d managed to do with out it this long. He really was a miracle.
For his part Spike talked them all the way home, grumbling about “sorry fuckers” and “useless twunts”. Assuring her of her rights to happiness and all the love that he could give her and more.
“Life’s bloody short, Buffy - and a Slayer’s life is shorter than most. You have to grab your happiness with both hands while you can, Love. Believe me.”
Now where had she heard that before? That night in the graveyard with other Spike seemed like years ago, so much had happened. She shook her head at her own stupidity, to be given such a gift and turn it away… No wonder the Powers had sent her here. It took nothing short of a cataclysmic wake up call to get through her thick skull. Thank God she finally caught a clue. She turned from her thoughts to hear his growling character assassination of Xander;
“ And that bloody mong, Harris – as if he’s ever contributed more than a box ‘o Crispy Creams-”
“What’s a mong?” He stopped and looked at her blankly for a moment.
“ You know; a thicko - a moron.”
“Oh.” She grinned at him. “You know your accent gets thicker when you’re angry.”
“Does it?” he smiled back at her.
“Yup. It’s very manly.”
“Yeah? ‘Cause I’ve got a few choice words for the whelp yet – not to mention that git of a Watcher-”
She put a finger to his lips halting the rant in progress.
“Thank you.” She said softly, and kissed him. He stilled instantly to return her kiss.
“For what?” He whispered huskily, holding her close. She pulled back just enough to look at him.
“For being my hero.”
He chuckled.
“Never thought I’d hear that term applied to me.”
“No?”
“ Always thought of myself as more’ve the anti-hero type.” His eyes lit up. “ Like Clark Gable in “A Free Soul” I always loved that bastard Ace. I remember seeing him on the big screen and thinkin’ ‘Now there’s a man a fella can relate to.’”
“What’re you going on about?” She snuggled deeper into his embrace.
“Nothing, Love.” He kissed the top of her head. “ Just pondering my place in the world s’all.”
“Oh.” She smiled up at him. “Well, that’s simple.”
“Is it now?” He raised an eyebrow her way.
“Absolutely.” She replied, as if the answer were obvious. “Your place is with me.”
He grinned and took her hand in his, kissing it.
“That it is.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Angel was at Cordelia’s side in an instant, drawn by the undisguised fear he saw in her eyes.
“What happened?”
“I had a vision, worst one I’ve ever had – knocked me out at the end. I saw the Slayer, dead in a pool of her own blood.”
Wes sucked in a hiss of shock. Faith had been his Slayer, and he couldn’t help but feel her death was somehow still on his hands. He had abandoned his charge to another Watcher feeling himself quite inadequate to the task of managing the wayward girl.
“And, I saw Buffy -”
“Buffy? You saw Buffy?” Angel’s insides clenched with dread. “Was she dead?”
“No… but she was well on her way. She was fighting some nasty thing I can hardly describe – and it was winning.”
If Buffy was fighting it had to be deadly. Only something catastrophic would draw her from retirement…and her impending wedding. He firmly squelched the pang of jealousy he felt at that thought. She was happy now, she was loved by a normal man - that had to be enough. He turned himself with practiced discipline to the task at hand.
“ There’s more.” Cordelia continued grimly.
“Ya mean it gets worse, Buttercup?” Lorne handed her a perfectly blended Cosmo which she accepted with alacrity. Pausing for a fortifying sip she continued;
“ ’Fraid so. After that the sky tore itself into about a billion pieces and then everybody died. The end - as in of the world.”
“Guess we better suit up then.” Gunn said stepping further into the lobby from his spot by the front entrance.
“Looks like it’s Apocalypse time again.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Spike left her sitting quietly while he prepared for bed. She was surprised to see him shed his clothes and slip into black flannel sleep pants.
*Spike owns pajamas?*
He dug for a moment in his chest of drawers and came up with a plain t-shirt and boxers. Gently he helped her out of her shirt and slid the tee over her head. Then he handed her the boxers.
“Too much temptation there, Love.” He said with a sideways grin.
Buffy stood up and shimmied out of her jeans, sliding the comfortable cotton shorts on quickly. She smiled when she caught him watching her, the hunger clear in his eyes. He smiled back at her with a little shrug and slid underneath the sheets, holding them open for her to join him. She slipped into the cool comfort of his arms and felt herself relax for the first time all evening.
Yet another gift he was giving her; rest and comfort with no demands. He was showing her he could be there for her and put her needs first, even over his own constant desire. She turned toward him and tucked her head into the nook of his shoulder.
“I love you so much. Do you know that?”
He nodded and squeezed her tight, moved. Every time she said it was like a miracle to him.
“Love you too, Princess.” He replied softly, “More than I can say.”
He kissed her forehead with tenderness and let her settle herself into his arms. Buffy snuggled up to his side with a happy little hum and finally drifted off to sleep,
feeling loved.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Is that what we’re doing, Angel?” Fred asked. “Are we going to Sunnydale?”
They all looked at him expectantly. He felt an irrational desire to shrug off the weight of their stares. Angel still wasn’t entirely used to the leadership role he’d been cast into. Fighting alone was so very much simpler.
“WE aren’t going anywhere.” He replied tersely. “This is for me to handle.”
“Hold up there, G.” Gunn crossed his arms stubbornly. “ I KNOW you aren’t even thinkin’ about leavin’ me behind.”
Angel sighed, feeling deeply put upon.
“I don’t see the need to put all of you in danger; I have experience with the Hellmouth. I can handle this alo-”
Cordelia cut him off;
“Excuse me, but I have experience with the Hellmouth too. Hello! Sunnydale vet remember? I even have my button that says ‘I survived blowing up the Mayor. Ask me how.’”
“Well, maybe you do – but THEY don’t and I can’t have my seer jeopardized.” He knew it was lame, but it was worth a try.
“Bullshit.” She shot back. “We’re all going.”
“Am I still the boss here?” He threw up his hands.
“My vision, my rules. And I say we need the team for this.”
“It might be wise to take some of us, Angel.” Wesley tactfully interjected. “If Cordelia’s vision is any indication of what you might be facing there, it would be best to be prepared.”
“You need back up. I’m coming.” Gunn said with finality.
Angel sighed, giving in. His own doubts and worries about what Buffy might be facing making him cave. It would be a comfort to have them there. Gunn was a formidable fighter, as was Wes - he could make sure the rest of them were well out of the way come game time.
“Fine.” He said curtly, his tone letting them know his acquiescence was under extreme protest. “Gunn and Lorne start packing us an arsenal. Fred and Wes we need any relevant research materials.”
He was somewhat mollified when they all scrambled to obey his commands.
“What about me?” Cordelia piped up from her spot on the sofa. “Don’t I get a job?”
“Do what you do best.”
“Sit here and look pretty?” She batted her eyes and crossed her legs enticingly. Angel let out an exasperated sigh.
“ORGANIZE, Cordelia. You said it; this is your vision – think of anything we might need and make sure we have it.”
He paused briefly for utmost dramatic affect.
“We leave before sunrise.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Spike sensed her restlessness and it kept him from his slumber. He was so attuned to her that he awoke instantly when he felt her stirring, feeling her sadness and fears as deeply as if they were his own. Pulling her close he kissed her forehead gently, willing her back to sleep. Buffy turned to him instead, eyes seeking his face in the darkness. Reaching for him she pulled him down to her and kissed him hard - like she was starving for him, like she hadn’t been kissed in weeks.
He understood what it was she needed then; release, connection, solace - all in the shelter of his arms and body.
*Everything…*
He would give her everything she needed and more. And right now she needed him. While he keenly felt her sorrow he couldn’t help but rejoice in the fact that she did need him. That he was the one she turned to now, the one she reached for in the night.
She brought his hand up under the hem of her t-shirt and he found his fingers suddenly burning with the heat of her flesh, his palm filled with the weight of her perfect peach breast. When his thumb brushed over the pearl of her hardened nipple she encouraged him with a breathy moan that went straight to his cock, hard since the moment she reached for him.
Her hands seemed to be everywhere, tangling in his sleep-loosened curls, clutching hungrily at his chest, worming their way inside his pants. He hissed when he felt her hot little fingers closing around him. Not gentle, God no. Not tonight. She held him hard and began to work his length forcefully. Spike loved her in charge like this, dominating him, simply taking whatever she wanted.
But he couldn’t let her have all the fun, now could he?
Breaking her hold he whipped up her shirt and latched on to a rosy nipple. Buffy arched into his mouth with a sharp cry that made him grin into the dark. He captured the other nipple with one hand and let the other slip inside her boxers to where she was already wet. He allowed his fingers to glide over her slickly parted lips for a moment before he dipped his middle finger inside. Her hips rose up to meet his hand and she favored him with a husky groan. He gathered wetness from within and worked it up and then over her clit, circulating for a moment before repeating the process once more. Again and again he exerted his rhythm until she was whimpering and panting beneath him. When he felt her trembling on the very edge - he struck.
The boxers were off in two quick yanks and her shirt was up and over her head before she could even blink. Naked he laid her out, spread and succulent before him. He kissed her mouth, her neck, paused to suckle each nipple in turn before settling between her satiny thighs. His mouth watered at the heady scent of her arousal, made all the sweeter knowing it was all for him. He was her only desire.
Each golden thigh received its due; with torturous languor he kissed and licked his way from the inside of her knees to the crux of her thighs. Finally he lowered his mouth to the sweet honey of her quim. Spike let his demon out to savour the taste, his tongue elongating in the process. Tickling her deep inside, she shuddered and moaned against him. The smell of her thrummed in his veins, made his cock throb at the musk of it. It was so strong like this, in game face he could sense everything in infinite detail. Scent and taste had layers and nuances he couldn’t experience otherwise.
His demon fed on her cream as blissfully as he would her blood. To taste her was all it wanted, and Spike drank deep. Growling with the pleasure of it he lapped at her pussy like a great cat. Steady licks drove her slowly out of her mind and sent her spiraling out of control. Spreading her wide, he bared the small pink diamond of her clit and assaulted it with his rough, textured tongue.
The sensation was unbearably pleasurable for her. Her body tensed like a bow string and her hands knotted in his hair, she hovered for a moment on the brink. Doubling his attack he increased his pace until he felt her let go. Buffy threw back her head and wailed her satisfaction to the night.
When she called his name,
he came.
No time to think or control it, in demon form she was just too much for him. Too visceral, too delicious - overpowering in her charms. He spent into the sheets helplessly as she rode out her orgasm against his mouth. Groaning he rode it out with her, his body shuddering in release.
Spike licked his glistening mouth clean, savoring the taste of her before slipping back to his human face. He rose above her then, extending her pleasure with his clever fingers, sliding two inside before the last tremor had even passed. Her eyes were wild as she met his hooded blue gaze. Panting she dragged him down to meet her mouth, kissing him savagely. He felt her capture his length with her small hand and moaned at the sensation of heat on his cool, sensitized flesh.
His cock was still slick with his come and she used it to manipulate him, sliding the foreskin along the length and circling the head with her thumb on the upstroke. He fucked her hard with his fingers as she stroked him, matching each other in primal rhythm. The need built inside him so quickly it left him gasping.
*Never, never enough.*
Never enough of her, never. The moment he came he was left hungry and wanting, always wanting more of her. The words came tumbling from his lips, all the hunger, all the need;
“Never enough of you, Baby. Not ever. Your skin, your mouth, your sweet pussy - always want more. Always.”
“Yes.”
“Say it; say it’s the same for you.” He locked eyes with her.
“Oh God yes.” She panted. “Never enough, Spike. I can never get enough of you.”
She worked him hard until his orgasm overtook him, semen jetting over her belly as she rode his hand. Watching his face as he came sent her off again like a bottle rocket, multiples bursting in shimmers in the air.
He lit her on fire, never had she been this way before. Buffy felt wild and fierce and free – like something deep inside her was suddenly out of its cage and flying. He kissed her hard then, and let his knowing fingers pleasure her until she screamed, his voice a dirty, sweet whisper in her ear;
“ That’s it, Love, come for me again. Yeah, just like that, Baby…COME.”
And she did, her body rushing to obey his command - back arching, heels digging into the backs of his thighs as she quaked around his hand. It was so good with her, just like this. Giving her pleasure was more than he ever thought he’d be permitted. And what she gave him in return satisfied him both body and soul. With her he almost felt he had one again.
He’d damn well get a soul if she required it. Anything she wanted – the moon, the world, a brand new bloody soul - it was all hers for the asking. He kissed her languorously as she came down and chuckled when she pulled him on top of her, lithe body wrapping itself around him.
“Careful, Pet. You’ll make me hard again if you keep that up.”
“And this is a bad thing why?” She replied lazily, undulating sensuously against him.
“ Nothing else’ll get done today...’cept maybe you.” He tapped the tip of her nose for emphasis.
“Why is the Universe always conspiring to make me leave your bed?” she pouted.
“Dunno. Ought to have a talk with whoever’s in charge tho’…” He settled himself on top of her, bestowing slow, wet, open mouth kisses.
“Mmmhmm…” Buffy purred in agreement. “ ‘Cause that’s just not right.”
“ Bloody shame s’what it is.” He agreed with a sigh.
Reluctantly he rolled off her. Spike could feel daylight coming on, the sun just pushing up on the horizon.
*Got to go soon...*
Morning was coming.
Time to find Dawn.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Without his old Initiative contacts Riley could only do so much. The books had given him nothing; stakes and crosses, holy water and fire. Not enough – and much too good for Spike. In desperation he’d turned to darker sources. He knew the cost would be steep, but it was worth it. Spike had to pay - he had to be eliminated. This was the surest, most agonizing way.
He paused at the cave’s entrance gathering courage. He could feel the Hellmouth somehow and repressed a small shudder. The air inside was oppressively thick with heat and damp and smell did nothing to alleviate his apprehension - something feral lived here, something infinitely old. Unfortunately he knew exactly what - he’d seen the ghastly drawings helpfully provided by the Crowley Index.
Riley sought a demon mage, older than dirt and considerably less sane. Born before the time of the old Roman Republic, it had gone slightly mad in its dotage and now lived in seclusion in the catacombs near the Hellmouth. The rumors in the underground painted an even more sinister picture, the price for its services were high and the rewards given beyond darkest imagining. He knew he had to come then, this devil could give him all that he desired.
He had gone to a great deal of trouble to locate the creature, his honeymoon savings were tapped out now. But that was fine - whatever it took to set things right. For what was a honeymoon without the bride? He pictured her in a fine white dress, smiling that perfect smile. She was waiting for him…Just one little detail to take care of first. He had a sudden, vivid flashback of her writhing underneath Spike and suppressed the impulse to snarl in rage.
An ancient and sinister voice spoke up from the shadows;
“Do you have my payment, Boy?”
“Yes.” His voice betrayed none of his fear. His Initiative training served him well.
“Let us see it then.” The oily voice purred. “You know the forfeit…”
He only hesitated a moment, anticipating pain. Riley raised the hem of his shirt and deftly maneuvered his hunting knife to carve a 6 inch wide chunk from his side. He hissed at the burning sting as it sliced through him like butter and finally came away, leaving a bloody hunk of meat in his palm.
“Give it to us!” From the shadows a scaly figure rushed forth, taloned hands grasping greedily. Riley flung his offering to the beast before it could touch him. The thought of clammy, reptilian fingers on his bare skin filled him with revulsion.
“A pound of flesh! A pound of flesh!” It sang, chortling merrily at its own joke. Rocking with delight the thing cradled his severed tissue lovingly before a long, pointed tongue came out to taste it. Riley looked away in disgust. He hoped to God he was out of here before he passed out…
“You have your payment.” He gritted through clenched teeth, the blood running freely from his dully throbbing side.
“Now give me what I came here for.”
**Did I make it worth the wait or what? Smut & sinister Rileyness all in one chapter. Aren't you just dying to know what he's up to? Don't worry I won't leave you dangling too long. Promise. More plot twistiness to come so stay tuned...same bat time, same bat channel *Smooch* Rosie**
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