[A/N: The Gaelic in this chapter is my translation, so the errors are mine, since its been a while since I spoke or wrote any Gaelic, so forgive me in advance for the errors (although some of them are deliberate). The title comes from another song, this one from Depeche Mode, one of the best ever dance/club/new wave bands to ever record. Its from Strangelove (oh the irony is great) from the album Music for the Masses, released in 1987. Quotes are also from songs, coz I’m a sucker for a decent love song from strange places.]
33. I’ll make your heart smile
Out of all those kinds of people
you got a face with a view
I’m just an animal looking for a home
share the same space for a minute or two
and you love me till my heart stops
love me till I’m dead
eyes that light up, eyes look through you
Talking Heads, This must be the place,
from the album Speaking in Tongues
Your burning eyes cause flames to arise
Will you let the fire die down soon
or will I always be here
your favorite passion
your favorite game
your favorite mirror
your favorite slave
I’m hanging on your words
living on your breath
feeling with your skin
Depeche Mode, In your room,
from the album Songs of Faith and Devotion
Her whole body felt like rubber. Slumped against Spike’s chest, Buffy felt like oozy cheese, spread against the hard planes of Spike’s body. Her nipples ached. In a good way, but they did.
She felt slippery inside, warm and wet and well used. Nuzzling against his chest, Buffy mewled a protest when his hands slipped from under her hips, dropping them to around his waist. Locking her ankles, Buffy felt the aftershocks race through her.
Tiny little almost electrical shock waves pulsed inside her pussy, contracting it around the semi-hard cock still embedded in her body. Spike thrust again inside her, during the next one, setting off another series of leg trembles.
His laugh was breathlessly wicked.
Easing her down further, Spike reluctantly slid from between her legs. Buffy whimpered another protest, and instead of turning from her, Spike leaned down, his hands braced on either side of her and kissed her senseless.
Pulling away, he smiled down at her, then with a wicked wiggle of his eyebrows, he ducked low and put her up over his left shoulder. Hiking up his sweat pants, he headed up the stairs to her bedroom.
******************************** ***************************************
They stared at each other, the Key and the Huntsman, neither one speaking. The hounds were quiet, not making a sound, just waiting patiently for a signal from their master.
He was huge, Dawn noted idly. Taller than Riley and broader than Angel. Kind of looked like Hagrid’s smaller brother – with horns. Yup, those were definitely horns sprouting from his head, like deer horns, sort of. He was wearing some sort of leather and . . . was that a wreath? He smelled kind of funny too, like a wet dog and fallen leaves and some other indefinable smell, like old bodies and metal . . . sulfur. Dawn realized she was mentally babbling and stopped it, letting her mind go blank.
Have to remember all this for Giles, she thought, listing everything about this guy in her head. These are the hounds that attacked Spike. So how come they aren’t coming after me?
The Huntsman made a motion with his hands, and as one, the pack sat back on their haunches without so much as a whimper of protest. He started to speak, but Dawn understood none of it. Sounded like a bunch of weird consonants all jumbled together. But then he said something which sounded like what Giles had called the pack, just this morning. That she understood. “Cwn Annwn.”
She said it back to him, and he stopped speaking, nodding once at her, then began again. This time he spoke slower, as if expecting her to understand what he said.
“Bainne congbhaighim clisneach suthainn riamh. N’bhos chionn uait ah’lhiats sinn dh’iarradh leagh chionn na bh’air an goid bhuainn nall neamh.”
Pointing a finger at Willow, he continued speaking “Earail bhuainn mo tighearna, ruadh Seileach eil gaueagh.”
He waited a moment, expecting her to respond, and when she repeated his words back at him, never even knowing she did it, he nodded once, and then, in a whirl of leather and dogs, the Huntsman and pack were gone.
She stood there blinking, not sure she’d just lived through their encounter. Was Buffy going to be madder that she talked to him or that she hadn’t tried to kill him? Or was she just going to act like a mom and get all worried like?
Dawn came back to herself to find the wonder twins babbling like idiots. Raising her hands, Dawn turned around to face them both. “I have to go see Giles now. Before I forget.”
Brushing past the two of them, she headed for Xander’s car. Realizing they weren’t following, Dawn turned back to face them and, with a patented Summers look, said “are you two coming? Or are you gonna stand there and gawk?”
******************************** ***************************************
She was too spent to protest the upside down position she was in. Instead, Buffy decided she should take full advantage and let her hand slip inside his sweats, cupping around his very nicely shaped butt cheek. And just because she could, she pinched him.
He retaliated by leaning his head closer and nipping her hip. “Two can play that game missy.”
A delicious little breathless giggle reached his ears and Spike smiled broadly. Swinging open the door to her room and taking two steps in, suddenly he was at the side of her bed. Sliding his hand along her torso, Spike lifted the tee shirt off as he playfully dumped her on the bed. His sweats hit the floor seconds later and they just stared at each other.
Now that she knew – how he felt, what it was like to hold him within her, Buffy was wanting it again. He filled her, warmed her up in ways that Riley had tried but never really managed. And oh, how unfair of her to think of him in this moment.
Lifting her eyes to Spike’s, Buffy nearly drowned at the awe in his gaze. Flushing slightly she moved to cover up. Reaching out a tentative hand to her, he rumbled softly, “no kitten, don’t . . . want to see you . . . waitin’ for me . . . wantin’ me.”
He stepped closer to the bed and Buffy raised herself up to her knees. His skin, alabaster pale and subtly hewn, begged to be touched. He was . . . in Cordelia’s words, lickable salty goodness. Reaching out a warm hand, she hovered it over his skin, running her fingers over the hard planes of his abs, the lines of his hips, the defined biceps. “Strong . . . so strong.”
She wasn’t even aware of her words, but he heard. Her fingers burned like fire, sending electrical shocks down through his muscles. His entire body hummed beneath her touch, responding to her unconscious call. “Gorgeous . . . just . . . sculpture.”
Her breath caressed his skin, as her fingers closed over his nipples. Spike leaned into her touch, rumbling low in his throat, “need you kitten.”
Looking up at him, Buffy closed the gap between them. Sliding her fingers down the middle of his chest, her hand closed around his erection. Pumping up and down, she licked her lips and he was lost. Diving down for her mouth, Spike pushed her back down on the bed, laying himself beside her.
His left hand skimmed over her skin, but not touching, raising gooseflesh. Barely touching her nipples, Spike breathed heavily against her shoulder. Dipping lower, his fingers mimicked what hers had done to him just moments ago. Hovering over her damp curls, Spike whispered against her skin, “let me in love, let me in.”
Arching up her hips to capture his teasing hand, Buffy slid her legs open and in the same motion, grasped his cock. “Yes” hissed in the air simultaneously as she clenched her hand and pussy around him.
“Spike . . . . please.”
Sliding down to latch onto her nipple, Spike pulled her up on top of him. Catching on, Buffy slowly lowered herself on his rock hard length.
Hissing again, Buffy shuddered around him, as Spike bucked his hips up against her. “That’s it baby, ride me hard.”
Throwing back her head, Buffy did just that.
******************************** ***************************************
She slammed through the door, almost as if the hounds were behind her, not caring if the shop was full of customers. Looking up from her spot by the books, Anya called out a cheery hello, to which Dawn only smiled at. “Where’s Giles?”
His voice drifted down from the restricted section and before he could make his way down the ladder, Dawn was climbing up. “Giles, I found them. Well, sort of they found me, but like nothing happened. Okay, that’s not true but like they didn’t attack and what the heck does this mean?” And Dawn repeated the Huntsman’s words nearly perfectly.
“Dawn. Slow down.” He tried calming her, but she was so on edge, from both the encounter with the Cwn Annwn and having to put up with the moaning myrtles that she couldn’t keep still.
“Tell me what happened.” Sitting her down on the floor, Giles leaned back against the bookshelf.
“Okay. So we left the house and the whole time Xander was bitching about Spike so I kinda started walking apart from him and” she dropped her voice so that the other two couldn’t hear her “can I tell you how much I’m not loving the complaining? And Giles, Willow’s acting way weird.”
He smiled a bit, despite his eagerness to get to the heart of the story. He’d wondered how she was going to fare with those two. “Focus please.”
“Right. Okay. But remind me to tell you and Buffy later what Willow did this morning.”
“Tara already told us, and I’d like your impression of things, but for now, the hounds please.”
“Yeah, Giles he was way big, like Hagrid and all leathery and he had horns kind of like deer horns but not quite like, you know, all pointy, there was just one point.”
Flipping through the pages of the book he grabbed off the shelf behind him, Giles found the drawing he was looking for. “Like this?”
“Yup. That’s him.”
Quickly growing serious, Giles grabbed his pocket recorder and told Dawn to repeat what he’d said to her, as best she could.
Closing her eyes, Dawn did her best.
It was not a language he immediately recognized, but between himself, Spike and Anya, they might be able to pinpoint it and possibly decipher it.
Looking down at the teen, Giles was struck by an odd thought. If Buffy was like his daughter, as he told her earlier this morning, Dawn was also. A year ago that thought would have bothered him. But now, smiling down at her, Giles realized he’d come to love her nearly as much as her sister, increasing his guilt over what he’d counseled Buffy to do during the fight with Glory. Trying to make up for it in a small way, Giles said, “you did very well Dawn. Kept your wits about yourself and didn’t panic. I’m proud of you. How would you like to help me research this a bit more?”
Her eyes lit up and Dawn stared at him. “Giles, are you okay? Xander didn’t hit you on the head did he?”
Laughing for the first time in days, Giles patted her shoulder and said, “not bloody likely.”
“This is soo cool. First patrolling and now research.”
Gathering up the books he’d been pulling off the shelves, he and Dawn made their way to the research table.
******************************** ***************************************
Xander and Willow had entered the shop as Dawn hit the top step of the ladder, neither one of them in a good mood. They’d done nothing but commiserate over the calamities in their lives, Willow’s fears about Oz and Xander’s inability to understand Buffy’s attraction to Spike.
He’d absently kissed Anya hello while listening to Willow’s almost incoherent ramblings.
“Xander. I need you to go get me some lunch.” Anya’s voice broke through his musings and he halfway turned his attention to her.
“Sure Ahn, what do you want?”
Giving him a list, Anya shooed him and the still babbling Willow out the door.
“Giles?”
“Yes Anya?” He answered her without looking up.
“Willow’s using too much magic” was her matter of fact assessment. And she quickly launched into her take on what happened in the kitchen before everyone had arrived, which then prompted Dawn to chime in with her corroboration of Tara’s account.
And then Anya said something that really made the hair on Giles’ neck stand up. “Its like I told Xander before, she brought Buffy from an unknown dimension, the laws require some sort of payment of equal value. And Willow didn’t provide that. There’s got to be some sort of shift going on . . . “
She looked up from logging in some of the sales to find Giles staring at her open-mouthed.
“What? What did I do? Have I got something on my face? Why are you staring at me?” Anya’s voice rose as her consternation did.
“Good god Anya – that’s it. That has to be why the hounds are here.”
Flipping through the books frantically now, Giles directed Dawn to look for any reference to Gwyn ap Nudd or Arawn, and he wrote down the names for her.
******************************** ***************************************
Buffy collapsed face down on his chest, her hair splayed all over both of them. She was worse off than she’d been before, now every single muscle felt woozy, none of them willing to respond to her brain’s sluggish commands. Spike inhaled deeply beneath her, then sputtered a bit as her hair worked its way into his mouth. She giggled softly, while he grumbled teasingly about long hair getting everywhere, saying, “I could cut it off it if bothers you so much.”
“Nah, then I couldn’t do this” he said as he worked a hand underneath it to splay across her back. Grabbing a bit of it with his other hand, he tickled her nose “or this” then shifting, creating space between them, he took that same little bit and teased it over her nipple “or this.”
That was all it took. That tiny little movement while he sucked in unneeded air and she was aching for him all over again.
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