Angel rapped his fingers on the table, looking heatedly at the empty booth in front of him.
“Looks like it didn't go so well, mate,” Spike remarked as he took a seat across from his grandsire.
The older vampire scowled. “Do you have to be a pest right this instant?”
Spike continued to stare at him as a waiter came by to take Buffy's empty dishes and refill Angel's coffee cup. “Think lactatin' is doin' somethin' to her. Makin' up for all the hormones she didn't have what with her nonexistent pregnancy.”
Angel sighed. “You're enjoying this.”
He shrugged. “I've always enjoyed a little bit of schadenfreude, especially if it's yours. But right now m'askin' you to go a little easier on her.”
The dark haired vampire made a sour face and leaned in to growl at him. “Last time I checked, you're not her keeper. Looking for some codependent fun with another pretty little birdie? I'm afraid Buffy is nothing like Dru.”
“No, I'm not her keeper! I'm her equal! And it bloody bothers you, doesn' it?” Spike grinned.
“Who're you gonna run to when this all blows up in your face?” Angel asked, lowering his voice. “When Buffy gets out of whatever rut she's in and realizes how completely worthless your company is? What do you think you can do for her that I can't?”
The bleach blond's eyes darkened. “Get 'er off without snapping her neck after one second, for starters.”
Angel laughed. “Like she can't find that anywhere.”
Spike sucked his breath through his teeth. Angel sent him a dark smile. The other vampire slammed a steel toe boot between his open legs, grinning as his grandsire's eyes crossed at the pain. Angel growled and ripped the table from where it was bolted to the floor, crashing it down onto Spike's head. Both of them stopped at the sound of a waitress screaming.
Angel gave her a guilty look. “Uh, I'll write you a check for the damages.”
The two of them strode awkwardly outside after Angel left the owner his business card. Spike wiped blood out of his eyes and Angel doubled over in pain.
“Was lovely catchin' up, but I gotta head back,” Spike said sarcastically.
Angel cleared his throat, still wincing. “I'll be sending Buffy a check.”
The younger vamp growled. “What the bloody hell are you pullin' at?”
“She needs the money,” Angel insisted. “Let me give it to her.”
“Is that how you're helpin' the helpless now? Throwin' money at 'em an' callin' it even?”
“Just shut the hell up, Spike, and let me help,” his grandsire growled.
Spike glowered, watching him limp to his car. He remained where he was until he saw for sure that Angel was heading for the interstate before making his own painful way home.
“Spike!” Buffy gasped when he walked through the door.
He swiped at the air casually. “S'nothin',” he grumbled, going for the linen closet to get a washcloth.
She took it from him with a glare, running it under hot water at the sink and dabbing at his head wound. She gasped again. “Spike, I can see your skull!” She put the towel in his hand. “Do you have a first aid kit? You're going to need some serious stitches.”
Spike sighed. “Bathroom under the sink,” he muttered, sinking into the couch.
“What happened?” she asked curiously as she returned with the med kit.
“Hopin' one of Angel's balls've fallen off by now,” Spike remarked.
She could swear it was reflex when she knocked him upside the skull. “I oughta leave you to stitch this up by yourself!”
“'E started it!” Spike howled as she passed the sewing needle through his skin. “Bloody—Could give a man some warning--”
“This is so typical of you guys,” Buffy snarled. “Maybe I should just let you guys go at it.” She paused.
Spike's eyes widened when he smelled her arousal. “You're sick.”
She blushed, silently finishing up on his wound. He sighed, tugging her on his lap after she had put all the sharp objects away.
“Thanks, luv,” he said softly, resting his chin over her shoulder.
“What were you guys fighting about?”
He maneuvered her on his lap so that she was cradled in his arms and facing him. He pressed his lips to hers, sliding his hand up the inside of her thigh as he deepened the kiss. Buffy melted into him, raising her hips as he slid her zipper down. She cupped his face, opening her eyes when he withdrew.
“This... This isn't all this is, is it?” Spike asked, panting.
She frowned, catching on. “What is it that he said to you?”
“Buffy--”
She shook her head. “No... No, Spike.” She looked up at him shyly through her lashes. “Can we please continue where we left off, though?”
He chuckled, tightening his arms around her. “Like it when you're polite, Slayer.” He continued to look into her eyes as he slid his hand down the front of her underwear, his middle finger slipping inside of her as he pressed his palm into her pelvic bone.
They both went completely limp when Margaret started to cry in the other room. Buffy laughed, and Spike couldn't help but smile at her as she removed herself from his lap to tend to their daughter.
“Hi, love bug,” Buffy said with a pout, picking up the small girl. “Mommy and Daddy were kind of in the middle of something.”
It took over an hour to feed her and put her back to sleep soundly enough to lower her back into her crib. Buffy sighed, shaking her head wearily as she felt as though she was floating into the bathroom. She felt rather than saw Spike materialize behind her, sliding his arms around her middle.
Buffy smiled and hummed when she heard Spike undoing his zipper, shimmying out of her pajama pants and letting it drop to the floor. They both let out a sigh and a chuckle as he filled her from behind. She leaned forward, her hands bracing the sink as he pressed into her.
“So wet,” Spike gasped, biting her shoulder with blunt teeth.
“Spike!” she keened, quivering. Her eyes rolled back in her head as he withdrew only to slam into her. She couldn't help but watch her reflection as her lips became arduously swollen and trembled as he continued to thrust into her and press the head of his cock against her cervix with every stroke. “Please! Please...”
“Tell me what you need,” Spike hissed in her ear.
“Stay! Stay... Like that...” she whispered urgently, clutching at his buttocks as he sheathed himself all the way inside of her. “Mmmmmnaahhh! Oh! Oh god!”
Spike pressed himself in between her legs and ground his hips, the both of them bowed over the sink, Buffy's forehead pressed against the mirror.
“Gonna...! Spike!” she squeaked.
He moaned as she squeezed tight, emptying his load just as she came with a shout. He breathed a sigh against her neck, tickling the hairs at the base of her skull. Buffy leaned her head back into his collar bone, smiling as he pressed a kiss to her throat.
“The li'l bit is gonna need her own room faster than I thought,” Spike chuckled.
“I was thinking about that,” Buffy replied, turning her head to look back at him. “What do you think of you guys coming home with me?”
Spike was speechless. He wrapped his arms tightly around her instead, burying his face in her hair.
She giggled. “Spike?”
“Yes, luv?” he murmured, kissing the top of her hair.
Buffy pouted. “My ribs are getting bruised by the sink.”
He withdrew quickly. “M'sorry, sweetheart.” He pressed a long kiss to the side of her neck. He palmed the toilet paper roll and ripped off a few sheets, kissing her cheek as he gently wiped between her legs.
Her breath hitched. She turned around to face him, sliding her arms around his neck and pressing in close. He kissed her forehead as he tossed the used toilet paper into a wastebasket to the right of them. “I start work tomorrow,” she said, tucking the top of her head under his chin. “I'll miss you,” she said softly.
Spike chuckled. “I'll miss you, too, luv.” He kissed the top of her head again. “What say we get into bed?”
She smiled. “Okay.”
Spike felt elated as they climbed into bed together with her fitting so perfectly against his side. He grinned as her soft snores met the air, and he gathered her to him in a tight embrace before falling asleep himself.
In the morning Spike awoke to the smell of coffee and the sound of only one quick, young heartbeat in the bedroom. Margaret hadn't woken again that evening and had slept through the night, and was sleeping still. He smiled down at the little girl in her crib, caressing the curls around her forehead before making his way into the kitchen.
Buffy was rubbing an eye with her fist as she poured herself another cup.
Spike put his palm over the rim of her cup, lowering her grip of it back onto the counter as he greeted her with a kiss. Buffy abandoned the mug and slid her arms around him, sighing happily when he embraced her.
“Mornin', petal,” he murmured against her lips.
“Hi,” she said dreamily.
“Leavin' soon?”
She nodded. “Yeah, in twenty minutes.” She glanced at the cupboards. “We need anything?”
“I can get 'em all tonight,” he said with a shrug.
“I could come with you,” she replied with a shrug of her own.
He caressed her forearm, dragging a fingertip up and down the expanse of skin. “When did you want to move back home?”
“Maybe after I get used to the routine at work. Did you bring Margaret there a lot? Is she familiar with the Revello house?”
He nodded. “Yeah, she's slept in the Bit's room before when I've needed to go out patrollin' when Clem was away for some reason or another.”
When Buffy left for work, Spike meandered into their bedroom to find Margaret lifting herself on her hands and knees, peering at him through the slats in her crib. He grinned at her, picking her up and peppering kisses all along her face and throat. She giggled and tried to shy away.
“Hullo, luv,” he murmured affectionately.
Margaret's tiny hands found his face, resting on either cheek. He touched his forehead to hers. She began to open and close her fist in the sign for milk, and he chuckled and whisked her away to the kitchen.
“Mmmmmm,” she sighed and suckled as he put the bottle to her mouth.
“Kinda missed it when it was jus' you an' me,” he remarked. “Don' tell mum, though.”
Dawn came to visit after noon. She cradled Margaret in her arms on the couch, cooing at her and kissing her. Spike returned from the kitchen, sitting down next to them. He smiled.
“How's she doing?” the younger Summers asked gently.
Spike nodded. “Better. She's thinkin' of movin' back home.”
The teenager beamed, glowing. “Really?!” she squealed.
“She wants us to come with her,” he said cautiously.
Dawn giggled, bringing Margaret's face up to hers. “That would be soooo great! I'd get this cuddle bug to myself way more often!” She glanced at Spike when her remark was met with silence. “Spike? Why the long face?”
“Still don' feel right havin' her so close to Red. She's been hostile.”
“Has Buffy talked about Willow and Tara staying?”
He shook his head. “No. Don' want to push it. She's already got enough on her plate, an' I don' want to rush her.”
She nodded, biting her lip. “Everything's alright?”
Spike sighed. “For now, I s'pose.”
“What is it?” she asked, cuddling her niece to her as a feeling of dread started to fill her stomach. She smiled a watery smile at Margaret, who was tangling her tiny fingers in her hair.
“Nothin' to worry about,” he said, sounding distracted. He smiled when the infant in Dawn's arms twisted around to look at his face. He kissed her on the nose.
“You're obviously worried about something,” Dawn urged, looking at him in concern. “If it's not Willow, what? What is it?”
He growled in annoyance. Margaret whimpered, and Dawn shot him a withering look before gently patting the baby in her arms. “Jus' leave it for now, alright?”
“Fine,” she huffed. “When's Buffy getting off work?”
“Round six. You'll be here?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I wanted to see her.”
“Your homework's all finished up?”
Dawn rolled her eyes. “Yes, dad.”
“Alright,” he said, wiping his face with his hands. “You'll be alright? M'gonna get some kip.”
She smiled at him. “Yeah.” She watched him disappear into the bedroom before glancing at Margaret. “What's going on with that daddy of yours, huh?”
Margaret giggled.
“Let's go read some books,” she said gleefully, sitting down with her on the floor and getting the board books under the coffee table.
That's how Buffy found them later, Dawn lying on her side on the floor with a bowl of Easy Mac while Margaret tinkered with one of her toys.
“How'd it go?” Dawn asked, licking the spoon.
“Exhaustingly boring,” Buffy groaned, going to the kitchen to wash her hands before sitting beside them. She smiled when Margaret greeted her happily, pulling her onto her lap.
“Can I ask you something?” Dawn glanced at her big sister, watching her interact with her daughter.
“Shoot,” she replied, getting her hair out of Margaret's mouth. “Mommy's hair does not taste good, love bug,” she said, wrinkling her nose.
“What's up with Spike? He seemed a little... I dunno.”
The older girl rolled her eyes. “I think he and Angel got into it. He didn't expand on it, though. Came back to the apartment with a head wound so big his skull was visible.”
Dawn winced. “Jeez. What the hell?”
Buffy shrugged. “I had dinner with Angel last night, and not entirely willing either. That probably had something to do with it. But he got me the job, and in exchange he wanted to talk.”
“Anything exciting?” Dawn asked sarcastically.
“Nah.” She suddenly looked guilty. “I think I kinda laid on the bitter before he could actually get a word in.”
Her little sister frowned. “Why?”
She sighed, running her fingers through her hair. “I dunno. He just always seems to come to my rescue, you know? And this time I might have actually needed it, and I didn't want to need it. He has a way of making me feel like a teenager again, and not even in a romantic or nostalgic way. I used to invite it, but this time it felt like he was...encroaching on my life.” She shrugged. “It's not that I'm not grateful for finding me a job.”
Dawn didn't know what to say. She was silent for a while, scraping the cheese from her bowl. “Spike said you were thinking of moving back home?” she asked, sounding hopeful.
Buffy smiled at her. “Yeah.”
“What about Tara and Willow?”
“I have to talk to them. If they want to stay there they have to help. We're totally broke, Dawnie. And Spike told me about the pipes. How much has Xander been able to get done?”
“Not much,” she replied regretfully. “Sometimes they leak in the basement. We turn the water off at night just in case. He said the whole thing needs to get redone.”
She pushed the hair away from her face. “I need to go to the mortgage company sometime this week. I have no idea how to do any of this.”
Dawn glanced at her sister, who looked on the verge of a breakdown. She covered her hand with her own. “I wish I knew what to do.”
“Me too,” Buffy said, lowering her gaze. “I wish mom was here.”
“Did you--” Dawn bit her lip. “Did you see mom?”
“Everything's beginning to fade,” her older sister admitted. “I don't know anymore. I just remember I felt happy. And... done. At peace.”
Dawn squeezed her hand. “I'm sorry.”
Buffy nodded. “Me too, a little. But I'm happy I get to see you again, Dawnie. I'm sorry I haven't...I guess since I came back I haven't really been there. I haven't gone home, or made time to see you. I feel like I've just been freaking out. But I do love you. You know that, right?”
Tears collected in the younger Summers' eyes. “Oh, Buffy...” She wrapped her arms around her and started to cry.
Buffy sniffled, wiping away a tear with the back of her hand. Margaret looked on in curiosity, putting her tiny hand in her mother's lap.
“Everythin' alright?”
The two girls looked up to find Spike appear in the bedroom doorway, concern etched into his features.
Buffy smiled through her tears. “Yeah.” She nudged Dawn. “We're good.”
[Reviews - 52]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | 
Chapter or Story
Has been viewed 1156 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story - Text Size +