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A/N: Sorry about the MAJOR delay in getting this part out. I hope it doesn’t disappoint. I was laid up with a back problem I have (thank you incompetent childhood gymnastic coaches) and was flat on my back for three days(and not a Spikey in sight!!). I was itching to post more cos I’d written a lot of this in long hand but I just couldn’t spend more than 5 minutes sitting at the computer without my back causing me severe agony. It seems to be much better now (fingers crossed). I just hope I haven’t lost the lot of you. Anyhoo on with the fic – which I also have a note about.
A large portion of the ‘playing’ in this fic was inspired by (almost downright plaigarised in parts) a sketch which SMG did on Saturday Night Live in 1999. Obviously THAT didn’t involve Spike but if you can be arsed to download it (I found it highly amusing) you’ll hopefully be able to see what I mean about bits of it inspiring bits of this chapter. If you want it you can download it from http://www.smgvbest.com/photopost/showphoto.php?photo=5415&password=&sort=1&cat=12184&page=1
And finally, although it took me a while this part is quite a bit longer than the others to make up for it.



“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” Buffy hissed attempting to push herself up off him. Spike couldn’t help but laugh, which infuriated her even more. He held her tight against him, laughing harder as she desperately tried to get up. He hugged her tight, his hands roaming over the back of her body. Buffy couldn’t believe he was copping a feel now! Swiftly she realised she shouldn’t be surprised, hadn’t he done the same last year when the troll in the bronze had thrown her into him; didn’t he take every opportunity he could for a sly grope? He was still inside of her, obviously he wouldn’t see the problem with manually perusing her form even if she was in a flat panic.

“Spike. Stop it now. Quit feeling my ass and let me up. They’re coming, oh god they must be coming. They have to have heard.” She realised that she couldn’t hear them climbing the stairs. Was that because they weren’t coming? No – impossible, that was LOUD. Was it because she was so busy panicking that she hadn’t heard them. God, they were probably standing outside the room now. They were going to come rushing in and see her. And him. Like this! With a Herculean effort she freed herself and stood up. Slapping at his clutching hands she evaded his attempts to grab her and almost dived across the room to snatch her robe from the chair in the corner. Pulling it on she avoided looking at Spikes pouting face, watching the door like a hawk she attempted to smooth her extremely mussed hair down.

“Slayer.” Spike whined, noting her new fascination with the door. “They’re not coming. If you’d calm down and stop with that skittery little heartbeat you’d hear that they’re still downstairs.”

“Why?” she said desperately. “They must have heard us. What are they doing down there……..oh God……..oh God…….oh…” she finally looked down. Spike was lounging now with his hands behind his head and his tongue lodged behind his top teeth, in that provocative way of his. “Oh God……” she continued. “Put some clothes on can’t you?”

“S’matter Slayer? My hot tight little body too much for you?”

Buffy groaned before shooting him a glare. “I have to go see what they’re doing. You STAY. PUT. If anyone comes up you get back into the closet. Maybe I can make something up to explain the noise.” She was muttering the last as she walked away.

Spike watched her go with extreme amusement; he creased up with laughter when he heard her mutter her way along the hall. “Needed a rest, fell out of bed………yeah I could fall out of bed………..why not?........people do it all the time…..that’s what I’ll tell them…..that’ll work, god I hope that works.”

Dragging her feet slightly she rounded the corner and started down the stairs only to hear the sound of the front door closing quietly. Running down the stairs she caught a glimpse through the small glass panes on the door of three figures running away from the house. Her first instinct was to run to the door, fling it open and shout for them to come back. She’d made up an excuse damnit!

Fortunately she didn’t follow through. She walked to the kitchen in a haze. Partly from the alcohol still in her system (although it did seem Spike had shagged a lot of the previous drunkenness out of her), and partly from sheer relief that they’d gone and she didn’t have to lie to their faces. She was fed up with lying; it was all she seemed to do these days. Lying to herself, lying to her friends, lying to Spike. Although she absolutely refused to let herself get anywhere near thinking it, she knew deep down that she could fall hard for Spike. Without any awareness of what she was doing she began to dry the dishes on the drainer as she fought to stop her drunken brain thinking nice things about him. She only ended up thinking about all the times she’d been mean to him. No matter how she tried to concentrate on what she was doing she just kept finding herself thinking horrible thoughts about herself.

She was so absorbed that she didn’t even notice that Spike had come downstairs and was standing in just his jeans, chest bare, at the door watching her. He’d heard the others leave, he knew there had been no confrontation. He wasn’t sure how she’d feel about that so he thought it best not to say anything about it just yet. He didn’t like the look of her though. She was moving like an automaton and he just knew what was happening. She’d sobered up slightly with the panic and the (if he did say so himself) amazing sex. However he knew she hadn’t completely sobered up. She was at the dangerous stage of drunkenness where a person might think they were sober but their brain became overrun with morose and miserable thoughts. She was very obviously slipping into drunken glumness and he knew he had to snap her out of it before the depression took hold.

“Gimme a tea-towel luv,” he said slipping alongside her. “I’ll give you a hand.”


Buffy didn’t answer, just looked at him blankly.

“Gimme a tea-towel.” He repeated.

“A what?” she finally answered pulling herself out of a bout of self-castigation.

“Tea-towel. One of those things you’re using to dry the dishes.”

“It’s ok.” She aid softly starting to turn away from him “I’ll be quicker by myself.”

He caught her chin in his hand and turned her face to him. “Gimme a grin then?” he turned puppy dog eyes on her.

Buffy managed a weak smile before turning back to her task. He took the bowl, which she had been ‘drying’ over and over since she’d started, from her hands along with the towel.

“You need some more to drink luv.” He stated.

“No, I don’t Spike. Just give me those back please.” She couldn’t meet his eyes because she was starting to feel really wretched. She made a grab for the bowl and Spike held it up above their heads. Putting an arm around her waist he pulled her tight to him to prevent her turning round and lowered the bowl a little behind her.

“Spike!” she protested even as she unconsciously rubbed herself against him, and he was sure he saw the tiniest hint of a smile curl the corners of her mouth. “I’ve had enough to drink. I just want to tidy up and go to bed now.”

“Well why didn’t you say so?” he laughed “Bed sounds great. C’mon lets go. We can take some drink with us.”

“No Spike. I’m sorry. I need some time to think. Some alone time.”

“No Slayer.” He countered. “Trust me the last thing you need just now is to mope. C’mon pet. We were having such a good time.” Shamelessly he tried the puppy dog eyes again.

“I know Spike but….” She was cut off as the bowl Spike was still holding slipped out of his grasp and crashed to the floor.

“Oops.” Was all Spike offered.

Buffy rolled her eyes at him and went to fetch the dustpan and brush from the back of the basement door. Spike lounged against the counter and watched her ass sway beneath her thin robe. His grin grew even more appreciative when she returned and bent over in front of him to retrieve the larger pieces of the broken crockery. A wicked glint entered his eye as he twirled the towel until it was wound tight. Grabbing the end with his left hand he pulled it back and snapped it against her ass.

“Hey!” she yelled straightening up just as he snapped her ass again. “Stop it!” she yelled dropping the cleaning utensils and jumping over the mess to escape him. About to turn and yell some more at him she yelped and broke into a run as he snapped at her again. Spike just chuckled as he ran after her, sometimes making the towel snap loudly off the walls, to startle her. Sometimes aiming for her ever retreating backside.

They ran a full circuit round the house, Buffy shrieking and giggling now. “Spike stop it. I mean it.” She said as they began they’re second circuit.

“Ooh I’m scared Slayer. Promise to stop moping and have another drink and I’ll stop………maybe.”

“Whaddya mean maybe? Ow!!” she giggled. “Ok, ok. I give in” she said as they skidded into the living room. “No moping and I’ll have another drink.”

They both flopped onto the sofa and Spike looked on the floor for the whiskey which Buffy had dropped during their ‘mutual wank’ earlier. His brow furrowed when he couldn’t see it anywhere.

“Shit!” Buffy said.

He looked at her then followed her gaze to the coffee table where the whiskey now stood with a note propped up against it. On the front of the note was written ‘To Buffy and Spike’.

“Crap!” Buffy stared at the letter.

‘Crap!’ Spike thought. He’d just managed to get her to cheer up a bit and now he could see her good mood crashing to earth like the bowl he’d just dropped in the kitchen.

He saw her visibly gulp as she reached out a shaking hand to lift the note from the table. He stared at the floor waiting for the inevitable explosion, certain that he’d be being hauled out by the scruff of his neck any minute now. He could see it coming, she’d chuck him out so that he didn’t see whatever breakdown or panic she was about to have. Heaven forbid he should see her cry, ever since their relationship had become physical she’d put up a wall where her emotions were concerned. She’d confided in him when her friends first brought her back, but not any more. It was an agonising compromise for Spike. He was physically closer to her than he had ever dared dream he would ever be, but she shut him out of all of the important stuff. Now Spike was the one slowly but surely slipping into a little pit of depression. He was startled out of his reverie by Buffy shrieking with laughter.

His first thought was that her friends finding out about the two of them had tipped her over the edge and she had gone stark staring mad. His fears were confirmed when she yanked his head round to her and kissed him ferociously until she had to stop to catch her breath. As he stared at her intently trying to work out the best way to deal with an insane slayer she began to giggle again.

“Oh Spike, your face is a picture – now there’s a dumb phrase, a picture of what exactly?” Yep she’d definitely flipped, he anxiously tried to recall if he’d seen any stakes lying around – who knew what she’d be capable of. When he continued to stare she thrust the note into his hands and reached for the whiskey, taking an enormous glug. Grinning at him all the while, she put her feet up on the seat and scooted back against the arm of the sofa.

“Read it.” She said, taking another drink. “I’m celebrating.”

After staring at her dumbstruck for a moment he looked down at the note written in Willows neat hand.

‘Hey Buffy, hey Spike,
Dawn’s going to stay with us tonight, seems like you too are a little preoccupied and could do with some time to yourselves. Buffy, I’m so happy for you. Spike’s a sweetie, when he’s not trying to convince everyone that he’s still a big bad. We’re all happy for you. Have fun, hope that fall didn’t hurt too much, and try to get SOME sleep won’t you?
Willow’

There was a P.S. in a hurried Dawn scrawl

‘P.S. About time!!! Oh and Spike next time you try to hide during the sexcapades, try making sure you take you boots and t-shirt with you – dead give away!’

Then a P.P.S. from Tara

‘Well, no big surprise for me but Spike you might want to think about not leaving ‘used’ tissues on the coffee table when you’ve been doing……stuff. Another dead give away!’

Spike grinned at Buffy as he finished reading. “You got good friends and a great little sis there slayer. Gonna have words with Red though.”

“Awww what s’matter Spikey? Is it cos she called you sweet?”

“Damn bloody right it is!” he exclaimed “I AM NOT sweet.”

“Are too. When you want to be.”

“Slayer.” Spike growled warningly. “Don’t make me come over there.”

“Whaddya mean?” she tipped her head to one side questioningly “You’re pretty much already ‘over here’ this isn’t a huge sofa…..” Her eyes twinkled as she looked him dead in the eye whilst swigging again. Pulling the bottle from her mouth, she added “..sweetie.”

He reached over and took the bottle from her, never breaking eye contact. He took a large swig himself before setting it back on the coffee table out of the way. Still holding her gaze he turned around on the sofa and crawled towards her on all fours. It not being that large a sofa it took only a moment before he was looming over her, arms hemming her in on either side of her head. Buffy was barely containing her mirth at how pissed he was at being called sweet. She pressed her lips together to keep from laughing as a pleasantly nervous feeling grew in her stomach from him staring down at her, like a hunter who’d caught his prey.

“Take it back Slayer.” He said softly.

“Nu-uh,” Buffy laughed “you’re a sweetie-pie.”

“Don’t make me make you take it back.” He warned

Buffy just laughed some more. His next move surprised her. He caught a clump of her hair in his fist and yanked, saying “Take it back.”

“Ow! No!” she squealed as she reached out and slapped his face to make him let go.

“Ooh I LIKE that.” He said “Do it again.”

Buffy laughed and slapped him again “You like that do ya? How about this?” now she pulled on his hair. Neither was hurting the other but they were both obviously growing excited from the playful exchange.

Spike slapped her back. “How do you like it?”

“I LOVE it.” She laughed pulling a little more on his hair “Do it again.”

Spike did and got another yank on his hair for his trouble. Buffy then let go of him and sat up as much as she could and shoved his shoulders.

“You wanna play rough?” she questioned.

“Yeah I wanna play rough.” He returned shoving her back down on the arm of the sofa “Think you can handle it?”
“Oh I think I can handle you cutie pie.” Buffy giggled shoving him again, harder this time and jumping up off the sofa as he regained his balance. He followed her to a standing position and tangled his hand in her hair again. He silenced her laughing by pulling her to him and kissing her with bruising force. His hand cradled the back of her head as he pushed his tongue in and out of her mouth, mimicking a VERY familiar motion which usually occurred elsewhere in their bodies. Buffy pulled her head away for breath and slapped his face again.

“Oh so baby really likes to play does she?” Spike grinned. He pulled her against him again but instead of kissing her, this time he snaked a hand down her back to cup her backside. “How do you like that?” he asked pinching her bottom hard.

Buffy yelped, her pelvis automatically pushing forward to escape his evil fingers. She realised immediately just how much Spike was enjoying this game. “Love that too.” She grinned, “You want some of that?” she asked mimicking his pinching on his own bottom.

“Oh yeah.” Spike responded grinding his pelvis into hers.

“How bout this?...” she pulled on his hair “and that?” she pinched the other bum cheek.

“Almost as good as this….” He slapped a hand down on her ass “and that.” He pulled her hair again tipping her head back for another searing kiss. Buffy swung them round as best she could now that the whiskey was starting to take hold again, and pushed Spike down to a sitting position on the sofa. “Do it again.” She smiled as she straddled him.

Spike obliged reaching around and smacking her ass again. “Harder.” She yelled before laughing out “bitch!”

“I’m your bitch?” he said incredulously. “I think you’ll find you’re the only bitch here luv.Hey!” she’d yanked hard on his hair again.

Opening her robe she shrugged it off her shoulders before forcing his head down to her breasts. “Uhuh sweetie.” She teased. “Just suck my tits bitch.” Spike was going to argue for a second but decided on a much better line of attack. He sucked one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it as the other was caressed by his hand. When he felt her start to move her pelvis against his now rock hard dick he nipped her nipples between teeth and fingers and tweaked nibbled and pulled at them. Her grip on his hair went slack and he quickly rolled them along the sofa so that she was beneath him. Lifting up he freed hei dick and placed it at her mouth, and holding her head still looked down to meet her outraged glare.

“Lets see who’s the bitch” he laughed “suck my dick bitch.”

“Bastard!” Buffy grinned at him before eagerly sucking him into her mouth. She wasted no time teasing but went straight to as near deep throat as her gag reflex would allow her in her current inebriated state. Sucking hard she looked up at Spike to see that he now had his eyes closed and a look of bliss was crossing his features. Just as he started to thrust his hips a little she pulled her head back so that just the tip was in her mouth. Very carefully she closed her teeth around the head. Looking up again, she increased the pressure of her teeth until Spike’s eyes shot open. She smiled at him around his dick. His hands tightened to the point of pain in her hair, sending out a clear message of ‘You loosen your teeth, I’ll loosen my hands.’ Buffy conceded quickly and let his dick out of her mouth laughing as she did so. “You didn’t like that Spikey?” she questioned with her biggest, most innocent eyes.

“No Buffy, I loved it because it means I can do this…” he pulled her head back and slapped both her cheeks with his dick then with his hand “and not feel bad about it.”

Buffy laughed again before saying “You call that playing rough? I played rougher than that in kindergarten.”

“Oh I’ll show you playing rough!” Spike promised. He swiftly stood up, picked her up bodily and threw her over his shoulder, heading for the stairs. Buffy’s world spun as she found herself upside down and looking at his back. She did the only thing she could think of. She bit him hard on the back and kicked him in the stomach.

“Ohh Slayer. You are so gonna pay for that Spike promised as he began to climb the stairs.


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