CHAPTER TEN:
It had been three days since Buffy had spoken to her friends about Spike. Three days of reassuring smiles from Willow and Tara. Three days of giggling grins from Dawn whenever the subject of Spike was raised. Three days of gentle smiles and hugs from her mother and, she was sure, what would have been three days of bluster, contempt, judgement, and condemnation from Xander, had he been allowed into the house.
But he wasn't. The Summers residence remained free from his negative influence. Such that it was, the morning of that day, the ninth since falling from the tower, Spike appeared in the kitchen dressed in grey sweats and a white t-shirt, standing on his own two feet.
“Spike!” Dawn squealed in excitement and was immediately upon him, enveloping him in a hug. He let out a pained gasp, which caused Dawn to release him and step back, holding him at arm's length.
“I'm alright, bit, just me ribs are a little sore, that's all. Can't take you squeezing the un-life out of me just yet.” His words were tinged with pain, but his smile seemed genuine. Enough, at least, to mollify the youngest Summers girl.
Moving with a confidence that showed he wasn't lying, he seated himself at the breakfast bar and took in the smiles around him. Buffy came to his side, placed both her hands to either of his cheeks, cupping his face, and placed a soft and chaste kiss to his lips.
He let the sensation wash over him, and, breaking the kiss, leaned his forehead against hers. Unseen to either of them, Joyce smiled contentedly, watching the pair connect properly, in full view of others, rather than small, stolen, private moments up in her room.
Since the arguments in the Magic Box, Joyce's visits to Spike had become less frequent, but they had lasted longer, as Spike was now capable of holding a decent conversation. She'd let Buffy take the lead in Spike's care while Joyce had satisfied herself with spending time with him after she came home from work, often being with him for a couple of hours at a time. They would talk of history mostly, but it became apparent to Joyce that they were able to cover a wide range of subjects within that category, as Spike was obviously well travelled and had a keen intellect. Art, poetry, literature, world cultures and cities, the subjects were wide ranging and wonderfully detailed.
Aside from helping Dawn with her summer assignments from school -- and who could ask for a better tutor when it came to twentieth century history or Shakespeare -- Spike would also talk about his experiences from the course of his life. Once Dawn was safely in bed, the subjects would shift slightly in focus, after Joyce and Buffy had expressed an interest in his experiences of the First and Second World Wars. Needless to say, some of the things he told them had been on the harrowing side, and Joyce suspected that a lot of what he had told them had been heavily edited, but she had to admit, a lot of it was very interesting.
His obvious distaste for the Nazi regime was clearly visible, and he made no bones about his readiness to oppose them. He said it had been his duty 'as an Englishman' to fight them.
“Ol' Winston Churchill was right, y'know. We don't do surrender, unlike those bloody French! Six weeks and they folded! We fought for SIX SODDING YEARS!”
The sound of the microwave finishing with a loud tone brought Joyce out of her memories, and she re-focused on the pair of them as Buffy handed Spike his cup of blood.
“So, Spike, I take it that you're feeling a lot better, given your current position?” Said position being sat on a stool with Buffy in his lap, a hand wrapped lightly round her midsection, holding her to him in a clear sign of affection.
“'M getting there, Joyce, thanks for asking. Like I said to nibblet, I reckon me ribs and middle must've faired the worst, 'cos they're all still a bit sore, but other than that, think I’m on the mend.”
Smiling brightly at him, she reached across the bar top and took his hand and squeezed gently.
“Good. I’m glad to hear it. Listen, we've been putting it off for a little while, 'til you recovered, but would you be interested in joining us for a meal? A sort of belated celebration of how things turned out?”
“You want me to come?” Spike spoke with an air of uncertainty, as if he'd not heard her correctly. He tried sending a questioning look at Buffy, to see how she felt about the whole thing, but she missed it, leaving Spike to rely on Joyce to assure him of his place.
“Of course we want you to come! It's because of you that I still have Buffy and Dawn with me.”
Spike looked down, clearly abashed at the praise now being levelled at him. He swallowed hard, trying to suss out what to do, but at Buffy's gentle nuzzling at the side of his neck and whispered words that Joyce couldn't quite hear, he looked up with bright eyes and spoke clearly, a genuine hint of happiness in his tone.
“I'd love to, Joyce. Thank you, for the offer.”
Returning his smile full force, Joyce excused herself and made her way to the phone in the living room. She was soon immersed in the task of contacting everyone and discovering people's availability for the occasion.
Almost as soon as Joyce had left the kitchen, Buffy spun her body, now straddling Spike, her chest pressed to his as she once again took his face in her hands and kissed him, putting in a little more passion than she had previously. Just as she started slowly grinding herself down on his groin, eliciting a low growl from him that seemed to instantly moisten her panties, a loud “Ahem” pierced her focused mind.
Separating with an exhaled breath, both Buffy and Spike turned their heads in unison to see a grinning Dawn with raised eyebrows looking at them. In her rush for some Spike goodness, Buffy had completely forgotten about her younger sister being in the room. Deciding against adding to Dawn's sexual education with a show on foreplay, she extracted herself from Spike's embrace.
“Dawn, don't you have a 'where' to be that's 'else? Like... oh, I don't know, Janice's?”
Buffy scowled at Dawn, trying to emphasize her point that definite alone-time was needed. With a slightly put-upon sigh and “Hhmmppfff” but still grinning nonetheless, Dawn was gone, calling out to Joyce on her way that she was going out for the day but would be back later that afternoon.
“Love that girl to death, but I really thought that she'd never leave,” Spike said with a smile as Buffy regained her previous position atop him. Their kisses also resumed and Buffy was instantly ablaze with desire that seemed to burn through her. She couldn't deny, at least to herself, that it had been a while since Riley had left and, as boring and unsatisfying as sex with him had been, it was better than the forced abstinence that she'd been subjected to since his departure. The fact that Spike was on the road to recovery gave her some hope that, soon, she'd be able to quench that desire she was feeling.
During the last three days, she and Spike had been able to steal a number of private moments together while he was confined to bed, but in that time, for obvious reasons, they had not progressed past some intense make-out sessions. It would be truly horrifying if either her sister or mother had managed to catch them doing what Buffy was seriously longing for them to do.
The thought of Joyce or Dawn walking in on the pair of them to find Buffy bent over, with Spike slipping into her from behind caused a blush to creep up her neck and flush the skin of her face. That would be something from which she could never recover. She'd just barely come to terms with the biting 'incident'. Still, the instinct and yearning was still there, causing her channel to clench and throb, and her clit to tingle and pulse in time with her heartbeat.
She couldn't truly explain what had happened to her over the last few days. Maybe it was the bite that had blown Buffy's body and mind into the stratosphere, but she found herself having some especially vivid and erotic fantasies and daydreams. She wondered whether Spike's bite had awoken something inside her, her inner woman, maybe even her inner Slayer, but the result was always the same. Moist panties, moist channel, mushy brain, and a voice screaming in her head to take what she wanted. Considering her previous sexual experiences, some of these thoughts and fantasies had taken Buffy's breath away. She had no idea where those instincts and yearnings were coming from, but, oh how she loved them. She wanted them, and she wanted to experience them with Spike.
Now that she had started playing those fantasies in her mind, it seemed she couldn't stop them as more and more images and thoughts flashed through her head. She buried her face in the crook of Spike's neck and closed her eyes, letting the erotic movies play out on the insides of her eyelids.
She could see Spike spread beneath her, his cock sliding into her body as she rode him at a gallop, slamming her hips down onto him, forcing his shaft into her again and again. She could picture him above her, pressing feather-light kisses to her neck and whispering words in her ear as he made love to her, slowly, deeply, gently. The personal favourite, it seemed, was something Buffy had never experienced before, but the frequency, clarity, and intensity with which she imagined it was quickly bumping it to number one on her 'to-try-with-Spike' list. She could see herself bent over, Spike slamming into her from behind with speed and power. She could almost hear herself screaming in pleasure as Spike broke her body, then, with a gentleness and love she hoped she could be worthy of, he put her back together again.
Buffy was once again brought out of her reverie, this time by Spike, as he stilled the movement of her hips on his groin. Raising her head to look at him questioningly, Spike closed the distance between them and placed a soft kiss to her lips, while holding her hips still.
The reason became apparent as Joyce entered the kitchen and saw the two blondes still locked in an embrace. She'd made sure that her final goodbye, in that instance, to Rupert, was possibly louder than necessary, and had purposefully made a mini-drama of replacing the phone in its cradle, again, making a bit more noise than was strictly necessary. This, in the hope that Spike's enhanced hearing would give them ample time to arrange themselves into a somewhat respectable position.
She had no objection whatsoever to Spike and Buffy's relationship, but still, that didn't mean that she wanted to walk in and see him doing something... inappropriate to her daughter. She knew what it was like at the beginning of relationships, when everything was new and exciting, and she well understood the mind of a young woman, and the promises that a new relationship could hold. As such, it was with a sudden flash of horror her brain had pointed out that it may not have been Spike that had initiated the said behaviour. That was something she had no desire to see or even contemplate! With a quick shudder she expelled that thought from her brain.
Regaining her composure as best she could, she addressed the pair that had looked up at her arrival.
“Well, I’ve spoken to everyone, and it looks like tonight is the night. Giles made the suggestion, and I agree, that we should try the Chinese restaurant downtown. Royal China, I think was the name. It certainly seems to be a bit more appropriate for a sit-down meal than say, The Bronze, and I happen to share Giles' distaste for bar food and loud music. Does that sound alright with the two of you?”
Buffy, getting off Spike's lap, nodded her head, trying desperately to hide the building lust and tightness she was feeling in her lower half. Her channel was clenching, throbbing and creaming with an unfulfilled desire to be, well, filled. She didn't know what her voice would sound like if she spoke, but she had the distinct impression it would come out of her in a breathy rush, or maybe a desperate whimper and so contented herself with her non-verbal reply.
Spike, sensing Buffy's distress, stepped in and spoke to Joyce, answering for the pair of them.
“Sounds brilliant, Joyce. I’ve developed a taste for Chinese food, having eaten the real thing in me travels. I reckon I should be able to find the good stuff on the menu and steer everyone away from the bits they won't like.”
“Good. Well, everyone's going to meet there at 7 tonight. Giles is booking a table for the eight of us at quarter past, but he says it rarely gets busy, so there shouldn't be an issue with waiting.”
A short silence followed her words and Joyce decided that maybe she was intruding slightly on the couple, and so graciously thought of giving them an out.
“Why don't you go back upstairs, Spike? I’ve got a few things to finish up at the gallery, and a little clearing up to do around the house. I think it best to take advantage of the fact that Dawn isn't here to create more mess as I go, and you should probably get some rest before tonight. Buffy'll keep an eye on you, won't you Buffy?”
Buffy tried desperately to silence the voices in her head that had jumped all over Joyce's innocent statement, and also tried to kill the twinkle she knew was lighting her eye as she turned to look at her mother.
“Sure, I’m all over Spike... errr... I mean... I’m on top of him... IT! IT! On top of IT... the looking...after of Spike.” Taking a breath, and trying to get her brain to work again, she continued on, “You go and do what you have to do at the gallery, we'll be here for when Dawn gets back, if you're not home, that is. I’ll let her know about tonight and make sure she has something to wear.” She paused at this for a moment as a sudden thought struck her.
“D' you need something to wear for tonight, Spike? Are you OK with what you have?”
Spike smiled at her, still trying to get his head round the fact that Buffy was actually thinking of him, and what he wanted and needed.
“I'll be fine pet. If memory serves, I’ve got clean jeans and tees upstairs from your last visit to my crypt. S'not like we're going to meet some U.N. Ambassadors. S'just a meal out with mates. I’ll be respectable enough, promise.”
Placing a kiss to Buffy's cheek, he stood with a fluidity and confidence that reinforced Buffy's belief that he really was doing better and bid a quick farewell to Joyce before disappearing upstairs for his suggested rest.
Joyce watched as Buffy's eyes followed Spike out of the room and secretly smiled to herself. 'She's happy, for the first time in a long time, she's happy, and Spike has done that!'
“I won't be gone that long, Buffy, but make sure he takes it easy today, alright? He could use the rest before tonight. Oh, and just to let you know, I spoke to Anya about tonight. She says that Xander is still mad about the whole situation with Spike and, as a result, I told her to tell him not to come. I don't want any arguments tonight and the easiest way, we both agreed, was to simply not invite him, is that OK?”
“It's fine, Mom. I’m really not in the mood for more of his attitude at the moment. Maybe he'll figure out that his behaviour has consequences. It'll do him good, right?” Buffy added while a slight grin graced her features.
Joyce returned her smile full force. “Absolutely. He needs to learn his place, maybe this will help get the message across. Right, I’m off, I’ll see you later, sweetie. Remember, let him rest.” Joyce gave Buffy a brief scowl, but it softened instantly at the look of innocence Buffy was trying to plaster to her face. With a shake of her head, Joyce was gone, leaving the pair alone in an empty house.
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Buffy pushed open the door to her mother's room and stood in the doorway, her hip cocked to the side in as an alluring pose as she could muster. It was strange to her but since her decision to try for a relationship with Spike she'd felt, perhaps for the first time, desirable. As a result, her confidence in herself had grown. How could it not, when Spike looked at her the way he was right now. Looking at her like she was his dream, made flesh and sent to Earth, just for him.
'God, what the hell was wrong with me, for so long?! How could I not see that? He loves me, REALLY loves me.”
She was pulled from her internal musing when she realised he had spoken, and she hadn't heard a word. Shaking her head to cover her momentary lapse, she tried to get him to repeat what he'd said, with as much dignity and eloquence as she could muster.
“Huh?”
Grinning from ear to ear, Spike propped himself up a little further against the headboard and spoke in a low, gravelly voice. The voice, it seemed, that never failed to cause Buffy's insides to ache and clench involuntarily.
“I said, 'Kitten looks like she's spoilin' for some trouble.'”
He couldn't help the grin that came to his face as hers contorted in confusion, that little crease in her brow that he found so cute coming to the fore.
“There's trouble now?”
“Not that kind of trouble, Buffy. The good kind.”
“Wait, there's a good kind of trouble? Why wasn't I told about this? If there's a good kind of trouble, I should know about it, especially if it's happening in Sunnydale. I’m the Slayer, and any kind of trouble I should-”
She stopped when she noticed his expression, a look of controlled, searing lust, mixed with amusement, but the icing on the cake and the thing that gave it away was the suggestive leer and wiggle of his eyebrows. Suddenly her brain, having engaged her 'Spike' filter, put two and two together and managed to come up with four.
“Ohhhh, that kind of trouble. Well, let's just say... I wouldn't mind.... if we... y'know... … got into a little trouble.”
“C'mere then, pet.” Spike jerked his head in a beckoning motion and opened his arms to her in invitation. With no hesitation whatsoever, Buffy was across the room and on the bed in seconds. She cuddled herself into his left side, mindful of his almost healed mid-section. She rejoiced in the contented feeling that was upon her as Spike draped an arm across her stomach in a gentle, but possessive manner. She hooked her head into the crook of his neck and shoulder and let out a breathy sigh as the two of them revelled in the connection they were forming. She could almost feel the love and affection radiating from him as he held her close, his hand making idle shapes on her stomach which had her giggling as she squirmed slightly, unintentionally signalling to Spike her slight ticklish streak.
Spike was in heaven, he was sure of it. He almost wished his heart would beat, if only to make it beat in time with hers and forge another connection to the woman he had in his arms.
The woman he'd fought for.
The woman he would have died for.
The woman he wanted to live for.
The woman he loved.
It was, with great pride in himself, that when he spoke, he was able to keep his voice from cracking.
“Can you let me do this every night, Buffy? Just this? Nothing better to me in all the world than lying here, holding you.”
Buffy fought back the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks at the words this man spoke to her. Again, her heart and mind screamed at her in equal parts satisfaction and rage. Rage for the time that had been denied them by others in her life, and satisfaction that she finally had him, and that finally, maybe, she would be able to experience love in all its joyful and terrifying wonder. But, of course, that wasn't enough for the Slayer that resided inside her. The Slayer had to have her say as well, and so, she spoke the words of the Slayer.
“Sure, we can do this every night, but wouldn't you want to do a little more, maybe get into some of that... trouble you mentioned?”
The answering rumbling chuckle pushed vibrations through her as she smiled, unseen by Spike.
“Trust me, Buffy. We'll get into trouble... … when you're ready. I promised myself I’d do this right, and that's what I’m gonna do. When you're ready, I’m all yours, I promise.”
Lifting her head to look into his eyes, she spoke in as serious and sincere a tone as she could. “When I’m ready, Spike, I’ll be all yours as well.” She leaned up and placed a quick kiss to his lips and then drew back a fraction. “All,” another kiss, “yours” another kiss.
“I love you, Buffy.”
“I know.”
Another rumbling chuckle broke the silence of the room, causing Buffy's brows to draw together in confusion. Then, the penny dropped, and she joined in herself.
“Those words are never gonna be usable again, are they?”
“Not if you've seen Star Wars, pet, and let's face it, who hasn't?”
The pair made a few small adjustments to their positions, and, when Dawn came home later that afternoon, she found the pair of them, still together on the bed. Buffy's head comfortably pillowed on Spike's chest, and the only sound in the room was the faint sound of a big cat purring contentedly. Stifling a giggle, she left the pair to their rest and set about turning the kitchen surfaces into a disaster area as she made herself a sandwich. Something Joyce was less than pleased about when she returned from the gallery not that much later.
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Seven o'clock seemed to come quickly, and with a minimum amount of fuss, Spike and his escorts arrived outside the restaurant relatively punctually.
Pushing the pane glass door open, Joyce preceded the entourage into the establishment and, spotting Giles already seated at the edge of a long table, walked over to greet him. Just as the pleasantries were finished being made, Anya, Willow and Tara appeared and seating arrangements were decided.
Spike found himself sandwiched between Buffy and Dawn, with Tara on Dawn's right. On the opposite side, Giles sat facing Buffy, Joyce across from Spike, Anya opposite Dawn and Willow facing Tara. Conversation was light and rapid once the orders for drinks and starters had been placed, everyone favouring soft drinks, including Spike, much to Giles' surprise. He had expected the vampire to be knocking back vast quantities of alcohol throughout the course of the night.
Buffy could tell that Spike was tense, clearly uncomfortable at being welcomed into a social setting amongst people that a few weeks ago, with the exception of Dawn and Joyce, had considered him an annoyance if they were being charitable and generous with their insults. He avoided saying too much as the group descended into unchecked conversation. Willow and Tara were quite happily discussing various aspects of magic, with Anya piping up occasionally to set them right on a subject they were openly wondering about, while Dawn seemed content to listen and ask the occasional question.
Joyce and Giles had migrated their conversation to the realms of literature and history, two subjects that interested the pair of them, and Joyce hoped, might encourage Spike to join in. Buffy rolled her eyes in boredom as the topic of Shakespeare was raised, and so turned to Spike, capturing his attention.
“You OK, with this, I mean?” She couldn't keep the concern out of her voice as she took in his guarded expression, and quiet state, like he was trying to become invisible to everyone else at the table.
Spike kept his voice low, trying not to be heard by the rest of the table. It wouldn't do to spoil the mood of everyone. “'M fine, pet. Just adjusting is all. Not used to being around everyone like this 's all.”
Buffy raised her hand to the table top and took Spike's in hers. She caught the sudden pause in conversation across from her as Giles faltered. This confirmed her suspicion that her watcher was surreptitiously watching her and Spike's interaction. Turning her head slowly, she fixed Giles with a hard stare and spoke quietly and calmly.
“Problem, Giles?”
The sheepish expression on the watcher's face at being caught was all she needed to see, and turned back to Spike, giving him a reassuring smile. “See, nothing to worry about. You're here with me, and no one, including Giles, gets to make you uncomfortable. Understand?”
Spike nodded, and squeezed her hand by way of reply.
Giles took the opportunity to speak up. “I do apologise, Spike. It was not my intent to make you feel unwelcome. After some careful thought on the subject, and having some things pointed out to me, I’ve come to realise that I am in your debt after your actions concerning Glory. You did what you could to protect Dawn, and by extension, Buffy. For that, I am truly grateful.”
Spike couldn't hide the shocked look on his face. Not only had the watcher just apologised to him, but he had also praised him and thanked him! Spike's brain was in high gear, desperately trying to come to terms with what had just happened.
It was with much chagrin that Giles watched the emotions play over the face of the vampire he had just spoken to. Giles liked to think of himself as a reasonable human being, able to offer praise and thanks when the case warranted it, but taking in the expression of Spike, Giles really did wonder on his treatment of said vampire. Spike was truly shocked at the words that Giles had spoken, obviously expecting to never hear such a thing from him. 'Have I really been that unreasonable to him that the merest hint of gratitude would turn him catatonic?!'
Fortunately, the moment was broken as the appetizers arrived, piled high on two huge dishes, to which everyone helped themselves. Spring rolls, crispy battered sweet potato, Satay skewers, ribs, crispy wontons, sesame prawn toast, fried smoked chicken, and what was referred to as 'crispy seaweed' steadily disappeared in a haze of hands, forks and plates.
“It's alright, niblet, I promise, it's not actually seaweed. It's just cabbage fried with sugar 'til it's crispy. No worries, now, you'll like it, c'mon, give it a go.” Spike gently pressed Dawn after he had seen her turn her nose up at the small green flakes he'd placed on her plate for her. “I promise, hand on un-dead heart, it's not really seaweed.”
She tentatively picked some up on her fork and gave it a quick sniff. Apparently satisfied that it didn't have a particularly nasty smell, she popped it into her mouth and chewed, all the while under the smiling observation of Joyce, Giles, Buffy and Spike.
Joyce was pleased and slightly envious of Spike's ability to convince Dawn to try something new, especially if it had the word 'seaweed' in it! She'd have to make sure that Spike spent a lot of time round the house! Maybe Dawn would become a little less finicky in her tastes with Spike's help.
To say that Giles was amazed at the interaction between Spike and Dawn was an understatement. His gentle demeanour, smile, and words instantly made Dawn more receptive to him than she'd ever been to a suggestion made by Giles. Once again, he was forced to concede that maybe he'd misjudged the master vampire.
Buffy, meanwhile was taking in the expressions of her mother and watcher and trying desperately not to laugh. She could get used to this. Without the anxiety and nausea she had experienced before the confrontations at the Magic Box, she could be happy with Spike, something she hadn't felt in a long time.
Dawn, however, having given Spike a playful bump with her shoulder, was happily shovelling food into her mouth. It turned out that Spike hadn't been lying and the seaweed was actually sweet and tasty.
The conversations resumed, this time with the topics flowing around the table as various people chimed in, steering it this way and that. Slowly but surely the appetizers were consumed amidst the chatter, with only a few pauses as plates were passed from person to person to be filled with whatever was desired. Spike very much tried to keep his voice low, talking mainly with the Summers women that surrounded him and the occasional comment to Giles until Willow broached the subject of history, due to an optional, extra credit course she'd seen at college.
When Buffy expressed an interest in maybe going back to college with the start of the new semester in the fall, Spike quickly encouraged her, offering his help in additional tutoring if she so wished. This drew many a raised brow from the assembly, and Spike let out an exasperated sigh. Allowing his voice to slide into its more cultured and refined state, he addressed the table at large.
“What did you expect? I’ve been around for a hundred and twenty years. I’ve picked up a thing or two in my travels, not to mention the degrees I earned at university before Dru found me.”
Giles' eyes widened to comical proportions. “Do you mean to say that you're educated, Spike? I had no idea!”
“Of course I’m educated, Rupert. You couldn't be born when I was, and be in the social standing I was, without an education. I studied at Oxford and Cambridge, with degrees in Latin, Mathematics and Literature. And since then I’ve kept up with enough study that I could probably get a teaching position at UC Sunnydale. Pick a subject, chances are I could lecture in it... … Why are you all looking at me like that? You never bothered to ask about it!”
Joyce smiled as everyone else's eyes dropped at that, well, everyone bar Dawn, who was busy finishing her food. The pair of them already knew this, having spent the time to get to know Spike and so this was no surprise to them.
Luckily, at least for Spike, before the interrogation could begin, a waiter appeared at Giles' elbow, complete with menus, pad, and pen, ready to take the dinner orders.
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Spike couldn't take it any longer. He'd had enough. He needed to do something about it. Damn the consequences! He was going to put an end to this bollocks right now!
Just as Dawn finished her latest exasperated sigh, Spike grabbed her around her middle and with a squeal, she found herself sat on Spike's lap.
“Spike! What are you doing?!”
“Ssshhh, easy, nibblet, bring your food over here will ya?”
Dawn reached over, and picked up her saucer and small ceramic bowl, in keeping with the oriental theme of the restaurant, and brought them to sit in front of her. Spike took her hand in his and showed her how to use the chopsticks that had been brought to the table with the dinner orders correctly. Finally, after a few aborted attempts, she was actually able to get the food into her mouth! He knew her stubborn streak would shine through and she would never admit defeat and pick up a fork, and so she'd spent the last three or four minutes trying in vain to use her chopsticks. Finally, after the umpteenth frustrated sigh, Spike had snapped.
Joyce once again found herself smiling at the vampire, and at the way he showed his affection for her youngest. She also just barely managed to contain the giggle that threatened to fall at Buffy's put-on sulky comment.
“Hhmmpff, my boyfriend cares more about my sister than he does me. S'not fair!” She added in a pout for good measure, her lower lip firmly pushed out as she tried out her puppy-dog eyes on him.
Spike chuckled good naturedly. “Yeah, alright, Buffy, whatever you say!” He leaned over, and placed a soft kiss to her lips. “Gonna get that lip, you keep sticking it out like that,” he whispered as he pulled back, watching with satisfaction as a blush rose up her neck to colour her cheeks.
Something in Buffy's brain, let's call it her inner girl, was jumping up and down, waving her arms in the air. 'Let him get it, please? Let him get our lips, it'll be fun, let him, let him, let him!'
Buffy valiantly tried to ignore the giddy, bouncing girl as her mind was assaulted by more images that were truly not acceptable for discussion at the dinner table. Images that included Spike's head in-between her legs, lapping at her soft folds, and her on her knees, Spike's cock moving slowly in and out of her mouth while she slipped a pair of fingers inside herself over and over again.
Clenching her now throbbing, buttery channel and blowing out a breath, she returned her brain's functions to what was going on around her, and suddenly, it struck her. Spike had kissed her. In full view of her friends and watcher, Spike had kissed her and no-one was screaming at her that she was wrong or shouting the need for a stake with which she should kill him! Conversations were still proceeding as normal, Willow, Tara and Anya paying no mind to them. Joyce was trying her best to smother her smile as she engaged Rupert in a discussion of European art galleries, and Dawn was now relishing the fact that food was now able to make a successful journey from bowl to mouth!
Spike had kissed her, and the world was still here, still turning. The Hellmouth hadn't opened and swallowed them all, nor had it spewed forth a horde of marauding demons with nothing but chaos and mayhem in mind!
Dawn exited Spike's lap and returned to her seat, concentrating on eating. Hey, she was a teenager! That's what teenagers do, right? But it was not lost on her, the interaction between her sister and Spike. To her shame, a small prick of jealousy rose in her for a fleeting moment, before being completely destroyed by the look on both Spike and Buffy's faces. They were happy, and the more mature voice that Dawn knew she had, though others would most definitely agree didn't exist, pointed out that she was partly responsible for those looks. It was her and her mother that had given Buffy the support that she'd needed to stand up to her friends and make the decision about what was best for her. Her and her mother that had championed Spike's case, and it was her and her mother that had spotted the man that Spike could be, long before anyone else.
Dawn swelled slightly with pride. She had done a good thing, for someone else, and seeing the pair of them happy was her reward. She would have continued her introspection, but there was still more food to be eaten, and so, she set about that task with as much gusto as a teenager armed with chopsticks could, that is to say, a lot!
*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()
Joyce took the moment after the table was cleared to stand, and tapping her glass lightly with a pen that she'd pulled from her purse, gathered everyone's attention to her.
“I'd like to take a moment, if I can, to talk about why we're all here. We're all here to celebrate the fact that we're all still here! And for me, I still have both my girls. I have them because of Spike. He saved both my girls, and for that, I can never repay him.” She turned to him, raised her glass in his direction, and spoke. “Thank you, Spike. For the chances you've given us, and the life you've gifted to me and my daughters. Thank you.”
“HERE, HERE!” came the voices from everyone at the table.
Spike ducked his head, and, for all intents and purposes, tried to disappear into his chair. He was uncomfortable being the focus of everyone's well wishes. He didn't do any of what Joyce had spoken of for this reason. He'd done it because of the love he held in his heart for the three women that had accepted him into their home in the days since.
He did it for the love he held for Buffy, the love that is raw and powerful and passionate and burning.
He did it for the love he held for Joyce, the love that is protective and understanding and warm.
He did it for the love he held for Dawn, the love that is fun and equal and accepting.
This was the love that he held for the Summers family. And he would do whatever he could to try and earn all that love that he'd once thought himself unworthy of.
Other people stood to offer their thoughts and congratulations and words of appreciation to him, most surprising of all being the watcher himself.
“I feel it would be remiss of me, Spike, to not also take a moment to extend my personal thanks to you for your efforts on that night. You prevented an apocalypse, and in the process saved my Slayer, and for that I am indebted to you. I will also take this opportunity to voice something else, if I may?
“Although I have... mixed feelings on the subject of your relationship with Buffy-” He held his hands up in a gesture of surrender, or maybe patience, when it seemed that Buffy, Dawn and Joyce were all about to object. “I can assure you that I will try my best to... keep an open mind about such things. Have no doubt, though, Spike, if you hurt Buffy, or anyone else for that matter, you and I shall have... … … well, let's leave it at that, shall we?” Giles finished with a raised brow cocked in Spike's direction.
Spike nodded his head, clearly understanding the watcher's meaning, but that wasn't enough for Buffy, who decided to defuse the testosterone display that Giles was actively performing.
“I think, Giles, that any situations that need to be handled, will fall to me – the Slayer – don't you agree?” A hard glare was added for dramatic effect, Buffy doing her best to leave the watcher under no illusions whatsoever that he might have of riding to her 'rescue'.
The table grew silent as Giles studied his Slayer's determined face for several long moments. Buffy held her breath, not wanting an argument now, after things had been going so well, but wanting to make sure her position on the subject of Spike was crystal clear. She let her breath out silently when Giles bowed his head slightly, barely enough to be considered acquiescence, but it was enough.
The mild tension was immediately broken by the waiter appearing with dessert menus and a list of coffees and teas. As the ordering was going on around them, Buffy leaned in to Spike's ear and whispered, “Guess that's about as close as we're gonna get to approval, huh?”
Turning slightly, he locked his azure gaze on her emerald eyes and smiled. “Don't care, pet. S'long as I have you, Joyce and Dawn, I could walk through hell an' back with a smile!” Leaning forward, he took his turn to whisper, “I love you, Buffy,” and captured her lips in another soft, sensual kiss.
'Damn it!' Buffy's brain screamed at her inside her own head. 'This is another pair of panties fit for the wash when I get home!' She couldn't seem to control her own body when Spike was concerned, and she was sure that her panties were sodden by now, what with the heat that was rising in her core, and the feeling of more and more of her cream slipping from inside her.
'OK, I seriously need to take care of this, tonight!' She began the arduous process of thinking of somewhere that she could go to... 'relieve' the pressure she was feeling. Once Spike was recovered, they could allow their relationship to evolve naturally to the point that her fantasies had envisioned, but right now, she would have to take care of this 'problem' herself. Just as her dessert of warm chocolate fudge cake was placed in front of her -- 'Hey! Slayer here! Calorie demanding job! I’m allowed!' -- the answer hit her:
Spike's Crypt!
He wasn't using it, and with the solid door, it was secure and could ensure no interruptions. So, with a smile that came not from her dessert, but the prospect of some relief, she happily set about utterly demolishing the warm fudge-y goodness in true Slayer fashion.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Hello, one and all. I do apologise for the delay between updates, a combination of real life and an uncooperative muse has slowed me down somewhat. I want to take a moment to thank everyone for the reviews and positive feedback I've received. They mean a lot to me, especially as a first time author. Thank you all. Special thanks have to go to P4S and PaganBaby for all the support, help, inspiration and encouragement they've given me. I couldn't have done this without the pair of you. I hope you know how much I value the both of you. Finally, I don't own anything to do with BTVS, so it really would be a waste of time trying to sue me. This is done purely for entertainment and not meant to infringe on any copyright laws.
Chapter End Notes:
I hope people like where I'm going with this, and my thanks, once again, have to go to the people that have stuck with me and given this story a chance. I truly appreciate each and every one of you. I have to thank PB for her beautiful banner, and P4S for all her beta work. The pair of them are wonderful. I truly owe them a lot for all their help and support. Thanks, you guys, you both rock! :-)