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Author's Chapter Notes:
My beta had to deal with real life. I was away at family camp. Then the site was down. Here's chapter nine, finally.
“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….





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