Epilogue
Quickly looking down both ends of the hallway, Spike grabbed Buffy around the waist and pulled her into the room, shutting and locking the door before she even realized what he was doing. Before Buffy could react Spike had her up against a wall and his hand was moving down towards the hem of her dress.
“Spike, we can not be late to the wedding!” Buffy tried to stop him as he snaked his hand deftly up her dress. God he was good at that.
“Relax, luv, we have time,” Spike was patient as ever, of course.
“We really can’t be late to our own—Oh!” Buffy sagged back against the wall, no longer fighting Spike’s advances.
“Not so ready for me to quit now are you?” he leered at her cockily and pushed her dress up round her hips and out of the way but froze when Buffy surprised him by reaching for the buckle of his belt.
“If we’re going to do this now,” she emphasized the word, letting Spike know she still didn’t think it was a great idea—logically, “then we’re going to do it right, mister.”
Spike wasn’t about to argue wither as she pulled his zipper down, already having gotten his belt out of the way; she was good at that. Sure bloody church wasn’t the most opportune place—or proper place—to have sex, but…Have you seen his girl? Spike was always trying for things like this with Buffy and most of the time she gave in—sometimes not, but most of the time she did.
Made life interesting at least.
Interesting and only slightly criminal. After all, how were they supposed to know that the janitor was going to actually need the mop that day? He hardly ever cleaned the bloody school anyway why’d he have to start that day?
They hadn’t actually been charged with anything—though the principal had tried for it—instead they were let off with a week of detention, three days suspension, Buffy’s embarrassment, and Spike feeling horrible about making Buffy feel embarrassed.
After that they’d been a little more careful—or at least Buffy had been.
Buffy literally pulled him back to the situation at hand—and what a situation it was—with a gentle yank on the lapels of his suit jacket. Her kiss was as a breath taking example of just how passionate she could be. As their lips clashed and tongues dueled, Spike hitched Buffy further on up he wall and wrapped her legs around him.
Not breaking their kiss he moved the two of them over towards a narrow little table and sat Buffy’s butt on it—sad little excuse for a table really, more of a ledge if you asked Spike. Buffy instinctively moved her legs lower down on his waist and pulled him towards her, causing the length of his cock to rub against her still panty clad center.
“No,” she said quickly, finally drawing back from their kisses as he started to reach down, “let me do it.”
In that moment Spike decided that he’d let Buffy do whatever she bloody well pleased as long as it involved him inside her. And soon.
Spike got his wish just a few seconds later after Buffy pushed her underwear to the side and guided him into her.
“Will you fuck me, Spike?” the little minx whispered into his ear. Apparently the woman was just full of surprises today.
“You want me to fuck you kitten?” Spike asked even as he pulled his hips back and then slid quickly back into her and then did it again and again and again, building up speed each time.
“Uh huh,” the matter-of-factness of her answer turned him on even more and Spike sucked along her neck lightly—careful not to leave any marks that she’d yell at him later for—before biting gently on her earlobe.
Unable to take any more of, what Buffy considered to be his teasing, she put her hands, that had been grasping his ass, on both sides of his face and pulled him to her for a kiss.
He could do whatever he wanted, but Buffy still needed the feeling of his lips against hers, his tongue sliding along her own as his cock slid in and out of her. The symmetry of it was simple and basic but it got her hot.
And Spike knew it, too. Without conscious thought, he began to time the thrusts of his hips with the movements of his tongue.
Soon Buffy’s arms were wrapped around his neck holding his face to her chest as they both gasped in more and more air. “Love you, Buffy,” Spike murmured against her skin.
“God…I…ugh…I love you too Spike,” her orgasm had crept up on her so stealthily that its arrival truly surprised her and left her biting Spike’s shoulder, through the jacket and dress shirt to stop from screaming out anything that someone could hear. “Love you, love you, love you,” she whispered repeatedly to Spike as se calmed down.
When she could tell her was close, Buffy began to rock her hips against him and tightened the hold her legs had on his hips, drawing him more deeply into her. “Come for me baby,” before she even finished her request Buffy knew he was going to. Spike buried his face in he neck to keep his own cries silent.
They sat in breathy silence for several moments before Buffy started to get uncomfortable with the edge of the wood table digging into her. Carefully she started to unwrap her legs from around Spike so she could lower herself to the floor.
“Just one more time,” Spike grasped her thighs as he made his plea, a vain attempt to stop her.
When Buffy just looked at him in the way that she had perfected over the years Spike knew he was beat and gave in; it really was no use arguing with her, especially when she was right.
Helping her to stand once more and smoothing her dress out for her before fixing his own pants back up and smoothing out the shirt, Spike took a moment just to look at her.
“Still remember the first time I saw you in that dress, pet. Love it more and more each time.”
“Spike,” Buffy finally had her dress and underwear all set and had Spike looking presentable again, “Quit with the niceness, we’re not going to have sex again.”
“Mean it, pet. Bloody beautiful you are.”
Buffy knew he was sincere simply from the way he looked at her. “Well then let’s get going. We have a wedding to get to you know.”
“Like I could forget my little girl's getting married. That boy better treat her right or I’ll—“
“Come on Mister Tough-Guy,” Buffy grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the door. “You be nice and maybe we’ll have a little honeymoon of our own later on.”
Buffy didn’t let him know how much she loved that how protective he was of their daughter, nor did she tell him how much she loved the fact that after thirty years of marriage they were still having little trysts like this. She didn’t let him know she loved it, but she did. And he knew it.
“Still say twenty five’s too bloody young to be getting married,” Spike was mumbling as Buffy pulled him from the room. “Could wait till she’s at least thirty or forty—or sixty, be nice to dear ole da’ and all. Bleedin’ pillock’s lucky I haven’t kicked his ass; better realize how lucky he is, getting such a—Oi! Quit laughing at me!“
THE END
A/N: Seeing as how no one but me has read this yet (I'm crazy) I have this fear that it's like movie sequels..you know the original is good but the sequel sucks? I feel like the story was good but the epilogue maybe didn't stand up to it....Let me know what you think (but nicely?)?
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I'm hoping this all gets up properly as I'm rushing to get it posted (there's a thunderstorm coming--I can hear the thunder--that is apparently knocking out power and I knew you'd never believe me if I didn't finally post this thing.) Other a/n at the end.