Spike hadn’t the heart to wake her for the second go round, despite how badly he wanted to. Buffy just couldn’t keep her eyes open for that minute. He smiled tenderly at her, pushing some hair from her face and covering up her naked flesh with his comforter. She’d had a rough night, and then some hot lovin’, it was no wonder she was wiped.
His doorbell ringing knocked him from his reverie of watching his lady love sleep. Had to be Randy the Wonder Publicist. Rolling his eyes, Spike crawled reluctantly out of bed, wanting nothing more than to stay in bed with his girl and stave off the day and the reality of it all just little longer. It seemed however, that the real world came a knocking no matter how much you tried to shut it out. Guess the key was to steal bliss as you could and deal with the muck as it came, as quickly as it came, so that you could get back to the bliss. That was in Spike’s plan anyway. Buffy had about a week left with him and he intended to make it every bit the dream for her so that she never wanted to leave. So that she stayed forever.
But, first things first.
Slipping on pajama bottoms and a t-shirt so as not to hurt Randy’s delicate sensibilities, Spike made his way down stairs, ready to knock the man out if he woke Buffy up with his incessant bell ringing.
In fact, Randy’s finger had been poised on the ringer whilst looking down at his planner. He wasn’t even paying attention to the fact that Spike had opened the door.
“Bloody hell, Randy, Buffy’s asleep. You wake her up and you’ll have me to contend with.”
Randy looked up from his planner and straightened, taking his finger from the doorbell. He rose a perfectly arched brow on his round face. “Really? Rocky herself won’t take me out?”
Spike glared at him. “You know she had nothing to do with that.”
“Yes, I know that Buffy the Saint had nothing to do with it,” Randy said and briskly sailed his semi-pudgy and short body past Spike.
“Are you deliberately trying to goad me?” Spike demanded as he shut the door.
Randy turned, “Yes, I guess I am. Sorry, had a rough morning dealing with Faith’s publicist. I’m just taking it out on you. I think they call it projecting. Or transference. I don’t know. Don’t much care either. How is she anyway?”
“She’s remarkably strong.”
“Well, she has been dealing with you for how long?”
“I pay you to be my publicist why?”
Randy grinned, “I suppose it’s because I give it to you straight, William. Not my fault if you wait until after you fall on your face to listen to me. And, it seems that you’ve finally listened when it came to Buffy, hmmm?”
Spike grinned slightly, not ready to give in just yet to Randy’s goading. “I haven’t done anything because you said it.”
“God forbid,” Randy said dryly, “Then I might actually be accused of doing my job properly.”
Spike rolled his eyes and sat down across from his publicist/friend on a plush gray arm chair. “Did you want anything?” he drawled.
“You actually offering?”
“Not really, just trying to be all polite like.”
“Figures,” Randy said, frowning slightly. “No, I had coffee, double espresso, before coming over.”
“How nice.”
“Well, I find that I do need the extra energy when dealing with you.”
“Are you trying to say I’m a lot to deal with?” Spike asked.
“Not trying to, blatantly coming right out with it.”
Spike grinned and Randy smiled in return. Such was the nature of their relationship, and neither would have it any other way. This was how they worked, and it worked well for both of them. Despite his gripes, Spike got what he needed from Randy and oftentimes more than he asked for. The man wasn’t much older than he was, but seemed to fit the role of ‘father figure’ quite well. Randy huffed when Spike kindly reminded him he had a father already and did not need another. Randy in turn kindly reminded him that while that was true, his father had passed, and he quite clearly needed a hand in some direction. Spike grudgingly listened to Randy, and Randy grudgingly let Spike fall and helped pick him up even while giving him the ‘I told you so’ lecture.
“So,” Randy said, taking out a pad and pen and poising the pen, ready to write on the pad. “What do you want to say?”
“What happened to those fancy contraptions?”
“You mean the recorder? I find them dangerous and so . . . progressive. I like to do some things the old – fashioned way. You think Cary Grant’s publicist had a fancy shmancy recorder?”
“Why don’t you tell me? You were around then weren’t you?”
“Oh. I get it. Comedy. You forget that you are not far behind me, boy.”
Spike grinned, “I remember. I just have to get my digs in when I can.”
“Shall we start? I’d like to stick it to Faith and her publicist as soon as possible. Nothing revs me up more than putting pretentious, not to mention skanky and highly overrated princesses in their place – speaking of – How is Harmony dealing with you being with Buffy these days?”
“Story for another time, mate.”
Randy sighed, “Or not at all since it hasn’t been an issue yet.”
Spike nodded, “Right then. What do I want to say? I want to say that Buffy is my girl—“
“Let’s change that to ‘girlfriend’,” Randy supplied writing now on his pad.
“Right. Girlfriend. I want to say that I love her and my negligence in coming out and introducing her to the world is because I simply wished to protect her from the hounds that would be barking at her feet.”
“Sure you want to say that?”
“Yes. I don’t care if the damn paparazzi like it or not. I’m not doing this for them.”
“Continue.”
“I want to say that Miss Evans was out of line and had become a woman scorned when it became clear to her that I was a man taken hook, line and sinker, by Buffy.”
“You want to go by Buffy?”
Spike nodded, “Yes, that’s a nickname. We put Elizabeth Summers in there and they’ll be hunting her down.”
“They probably already are.”
“Let them have to work harder then.”
“That’s always been my motto. Continue.”
“Where were we? Oh yes. Woman scorned…Buffy did not start the attack; she was merely defending herself against Miss Evan’s apparent lack of social grace and decorum. And, any continuing allegations that Buffy was the instigator or the attacker in this unfortunate circumstance will result in …”
“How about will result in your pondering of a lawsuit based on defamation of character against Buffy?”
Spike smiled broadly, “Yes! Furthermore, if Miss Evans were any kind of lady, she would apologize for her behavior and take responsibility for it instead of hiding behind her desperate attempts for attention and acting her way out of a situation she created.”
Randy finished scribbling on his pad. He looked up at Spike. “That it?”
“What do you think?”
“I think it’s perfect.”
“You do?”
“Yes, I do. It’s smart, witty and so very . . . snarky.”
“I aim to please.”
“Spike?” Buffy’s voice called out.
Randy grinned, “And on that note…” he said and snapped his pad shut. Clicking his pen closed he tucked it back into his organizer. “I’ll issue the statement as soon as I leave.”
“Thank you, Randy,” Spike said, standing. “Be right there, Buffy!” he called to her and turned to Randy.
“Take care of the girl, “Randy advised him.”Remember to go easy on her. This is all new to her. She’s not used to living in this world; it’s going to take a bit of time.”
“I think as soon as this hurdle is past, we’ll be good.”
“Oh, don’t say that. Things always have a way of coming back to prove you wrong.”
“I’m trying to get the girl to stay here, Randy. Permanently.”
“Don’t push her, that’s my advice. Let things unfold as they will. Especially now.”
“You done giving me my fortune for today?”
“Done. I can see you’re anxious to get back to your lady love,” Randy said and stood. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Thanks again, Randy.”
“Tell Buffy hello for me.”
“Will do.”
Buffy was laying on her back, staring up at the ceiling when Spike entered. Her hair was sprawled all around her head and she lay under the black comforter, her pale skin an ethereal contrast against the black sheets.
She cocked her head slightly, watching him come in. “Where’d you go?” she asked as he prowled up the bed, laying against her softly, putting most of his weight on his arms as he stared down at her.
“Randy arrived.”
“Oh? How’d it go?”
“Perfect. He’s on his way now to issue the statement.” Leaning down, Spike nibbled on her earlobe. “Have a nice nap?”
She nodded and then pouted. “I woke up and missed you.”
“That bottom lip is just begging for it. . . .”Spike murmured and tugged it between his teeth before suckling it into his mouth. She opened for him in a kiss that quickly turned voracious and wrapped her arms around him.
“More,” she murmured and tugged on his shirt.
Rising up on his knees, straddling her, Spike watched her with heavy lust filled eyes as he discarded his shirt.
Sliding her hands down his back, she pushed at his pajama bottoms and slid her hand to his hardening cock, wrapped her fingers around him and stroked the shaft up and down, feeling the pre cum that was gathering.
Spike moaned in pleasure at her touch, torn between wanting to savor it this time and wanting to take her hard and fast.
“Off,” she panted, using her feet to push down his bottoms down.
Breaking the lustful kiss they were engaged in, Spike helped her discard his pajama bottoms by rolling to the side and shoving them off. While he did so, Buffy whipped off the comforter, exposing her naked and warm body to his hungry gaze.
Not wasting any time, Spike rolled back over and took a breast in his mouth, suckling it while palming and teasing the nipple of the other with his free hand. Her head rolled back and her fingers twined in his hair, her legs opening and wrapping around him, stroking her wet sex against his erection.
“Fuck, Buffy…” Spike moaned. “Do you have any idea how bloody crazy I am for you?”
“Spike, I need you,” she whimpered, bringing him back to a kiss.
Sliding his hand between them, he slid a finger inside her slowly, easing her apart for his touch and she leaned into him, biting his shoulder softly.
Growling, he spread his finger over her clit and stroked it.
“Yes,” she hissed, “Oh God, yes….”
“You like that?”
“Mmmm…feels so good.”
“Tell me what you want, Buffy.”
“I want you inside me, please.”
Sliding his finger inside her, she moaned loudly and took his finger out of her, brought it to her mouth and licked her juices off.
Watching her do that was all the impetus he needed and slowly, Spike slid inside her, feeling her walls stretch and welcome him. “Christ. . . “ he muttered.
“Mmmm…”
“I love you so much,” he whispered as he loved with his body, his heart and his soul. He felt her in every part of him, so wondrous and full. He wasn’t afraid of it, not like he thought he’d be when the love bug finally hit him. No, he welcomed it openly, reveled in the knowledge that the wonderful creature in his arms was meant for him, made for him and him alone. There was no one else, would be no one but her. “Forever,” he whispered.
“Yes, yes,” she whispered back.
She was lost in her passion and he knew it, and yet he hoped she knew what she was promising to him, saying to him. That he was it for her as well, forever.
“Tell me, Buffy. Tell me you love me,” he encouraged her, nearly begging.
“I love you, Spike. I love you.”
He moved faster, the words spreading over him like a warm blanket, her love spreading all over him, easing all his pain, all his aches and distress, filling holes he never knew needed filling.
He was soaring in her arms, flying high, high, higher. . . .
“Buffy!” he gasped and came.
“Yes!” she moaned. “Spike….” and she squeezed him into oblivion, causing ecstasy like he’d never known before.
Collapsing against her, Spike held on, feeling she was his anchor, and after the all encompassing and overwhelming passion that had just overcome him, he felt a surge of emotion inside him bubbling over. Burying his face in her neck, tears escaped -- tears that he was ashamed to show her.
If she knew, she didn’t let on, she only held onto him, stroking his hair and his back, murmuring to him nonsensical words that only he understood and imbibed into his being.
This was love, need and want personified.