Angel felt overcome by the stench about five metres from the doorway. When Giles opened the door, stopping and blocking the majority of the view, the sweet scent of Buffy’s sex permeated the courtyard and it nearly knocked him off his feet. The actual vision of his love on her knees and being pounded from behind succeeded where before grim determination had kept him upright. So, as Giles did his exclaiming and Buffy gasped for breath, Spike waved around his glistening cock and smirked at the sight of his grandsire planted firmly on his soulful ass on the doormat.
It took Buffy a little longer to notice her audience at the door, leaning back in repletion and curling her arm around Spike’s neck, pulling his lips to hers as she arched up and her heavy breasts jutted out proudly from her chest. Both interlopers felt their eyes fixated on the sight, both alarmed and confused as to how such a slight girl with not much to be stuffing into her shirt once could now boast a very impressive set of…
“Oi, get your bloody perverted eyes off my girl.”
And the moment was broken, the magic rapidly receding for Buffy as she squealed and dived under Spike’s duster, grateful for its closeness to the phone. She almost strangled her body as she tightened it around herself. Spike stood slowly, and despite the shining fluid that clung to his cock and his proud display of the fact, as well as his semi-hard predicament, he didn’t rush to cover up even one inch of his flesh. Instead, he grabbed up his pack of cigarettes and played with it while absently looking for where his jeans ended up.
“Wh-what’s the meaning of this?” Giles spluttered, trying desperately to shield and divert his eyes from soft skin and visions of succulent nubile flesh he wanted desperately to burn from his brain. Even if one of those was rather, fetching. He shuddered just admitting such a thing, knowing that it was by far something he shouldn’t have seen and he would be scarred forevermore because of it.
Angel stepped around the watcher and suddenly filled the silence. Buffy’s eyes widened and Spike could feel a growl clawing at his throat. His overbearing grandsire was looking at her, and instead of the apologetic, confused and terrified looks he had expected from Buffy on seeing her great love again—and while completely in the raw—he felt more than relieved at her stance of carefree nonchalance.
Angel flipped Spike’s denims from the floor with his foot, hitting the bleached vamp squarely in the chest. Buffy rushed forward and held her lover around the waist as he pulled the stiff material back over his hips, re-catching the zip as he leaned back into his girl.
Firmly shut away, both parties were now at least decent, and Spike couldn’t help the smirk that grew at the twin looks of disappointment on the other men’s faces. He linked his fingers with Buffy’s as her little hands dug into his waist.
“So, how was your trip, Rupert?” he goaded, almost positive that nothing he’d learned in his travels could compare to the visual that he was trying to avoid even now.
The watcher looked at Spike dumbfounded, speechless as the realities of what he’d just seen continued to buzz behind his eyes and he forgot what the vampire was even doing in his house. Then a baby cried out and it all came flooding back to memory, and the presence of Angel right beside him came filtering back.
“Oh yes, yes…of course. O-Olivia, yes…well. Where do I start?”
“She’s not your baby…” The truth burst past Buffy’s lips before she could stop it and Spike could feel the nervous shake of her body as she fell even deeper into his.
“Er…quite…that would…um…appear to be exactly the case. Perhaps, Buffy, you wouldn’t mind getting dressed and then we can discuss the matter clearly and with no further…” He seemed incapable of coming up with the correct words, taking off his glasses and waving them around his room indiscriminately and indicating nothing. He felt so guilt ridden that the sight of her and what he had just walked in on was more than distracting to him.
Spike stifled a roar of entertainment, feeling amusement at the older man’s embarrassment even as he sucked up the seething jealousy that flowed from his grandsire. He could feel Buffy’s heat all the way through his leather and he decided she needed help or she’d never get dressed so they could get this show on the road.
Spike anticipated a boatload of fun.
He turned around and let a hand snake under his coat, staring happily at her as she watched the confounded faces behind her. When Spike’s cool palm cupped her mound, a finger breaching in public a place he really shouldn’t, Buffy was too intrigued yet terrified to move and show the others exactly what was going on. Spike found her clit as he held her closer, letting his body shield her where the leather gaped open.
Her shocked gaze suddenly found his and he could feel the tightening of her body and he couldn’t release the grin. He was so bad, and he knew it. Evil, yadda yadda. But it was beyond time his nancy lightweight grandsire knew the score, and the score was Angel: 0 and Spike: homerun. Buffy’s lips latched hard to his, making garbled noises into his mouth while her body blew a fuse and melted into his hand.
“Best do as the Watcher says, luv. Can sort this situation out proper and get on with our lives, yeah?” Spike felt infused with happy pheromones as his mate nodded her head and pattered up the stairs on shaky legs, holding her leather protection around herself tightly.
Spike did nothing to hide his increasing erection as he stood in front of Angel and Giles, knowing that the elder vampire could smell what he’d just been up to and that it made him actually turn a subtle shade of green.
Okay, his day had started out bloody marvellous and it certainly wasn’t going downhill at all. He was winding himself up to begin all sorts of tactical games that would turn the house into an uproar when Buffy reappeared nursing their baby.
Their little girl.
And something akin to maturity and conscience came crashing down hard on his head. With a deep sigh of futility, Spike made his way over to his little family and enclosed them in the circle of his arms. With a wary look at the brooding git still standing frozen in the open doorway, Spike turned Buffy away and gently pushed her to the sofa. As she settled, Lia started to fuss, nudging intently at Buffy’s hardened and bulging breasts.
The visitors had made it around to the other side of the couch just as Buffy undid her top and placed an engorged nipple in the tot’s mouth. Spike sat back, proud with his legs sprawled and making not even the slightest move to quell his erection. It tented his pants and Buffy was oblivious as Angel watched, mouth hanging open in shock and Giles took a seat with a few mumbled ‘my lord’s’ and an avid act of glasses polishing.
“Well, that’s rather surprising,” proclaimed Angel, and Buffy couldn’t help think how very much like Xander he sounded.
“Yeah, we were pretty much with the shocked, too,” Buffy confirmed blissfully. There was a tingle in her belly—a feeling that wasn’t completely new since she had suddenly been provided with the means to feed her daughter—one that made Buffy fervently wish Giles hadn’t come home yet.
She knew it was probably unreasonable. It wasn’t like she and Spike didn’t get it on at every possible chance, but she knew that once this feeding was over, her libido would be clawing at her for some kind of conclusion to the stimulation. Oh well, no point being shy about it now.
She was blocking out the fact that her Watcher and first love had probably seen her ass high in the air, but the rest, she’d kind of lost any prudish inhibitions when it came to her need. It was like something else had taken over and if she needed it, then she had to have it. Damn the consequences. Buffy wasn’t ready yet to admit whether Spike was a positive or a negative in that regard. The jury was still out.
“M-my understanding is…” began Giles, replacing the glasses to an eyeful of Slayer breast and quickly whipping them off again and looking around the room. “I’m not sure if this is absurd or divine. I take it, the baby has chosen?”
Buffy was enthusiastically nodding her head, but her watcher’s eyes were aimed at Angel, his own chocolate gaze hazed over with obvious lust. Buffy jumped at the growl that erupted from Spike’s throat as he sat forward, offering a little protection by being ready to pounce.
“Might be nice if you could aim the questions at us, and not the Poof. We lived it while you went gallivanting who knows where lookin’ for a woman who couldn’t even lie straight.” Spike aimed a curled lip of derision at his elders, in human years as well as vamp. He knew that Buffy respected them both, cared about them both, but he was buggered if he could work out why.
“Er, er quite right, yes. You’ve…” Giles waved his hand around absently, seemingly encompassing everything and everyone in his living room unintentionally. “Lived it. I see. And, what exactly do you think you know about the situation.”
Spike began to revert to his natural features, snarling at the sarcasm revealing that the ponce thought they were juvenile idiots. Spike was willing to bet that’s why King Ponce himself was now situated with a birdseye view of his mate’s unmentionables.
“For the last time, get your whorin’ eyes off my bird’s tits before I put my fist through your fucked-up Neanderthal-like skull.” He glared hard with a century full of hatred and Angel defied his wishes.
Spike felt himself light up as his body flushed with fury. He was livid. Instead of recognising the bastard had nothing left with Buffy, he openly gawked at her exposed breast. He was about ready to jump to his feet and assert his place by her side with fists and fangs, when she giggled.
“Oh, Spike,” she moaned then, imploring him to do something fast even as she was ripping the clothing from her neglected breast and showing them all the droplets of milk that spilled over.
He knew what she was after, and before the others could shut their gobs and think of anything intelligent to say, he shouted them to get out and his cool mouth had seized her half down his throat and he sucked her hard. Her lusty moan told everyone in the room that Spike wasn’t just postulating. What he was protecting was his and it better be hands and eyes off in future, or there could be a few spares floating down the river.
Buffy released some tantalising little whimper/moan combination and arched up into Spike’s mouth, frantic for more of his touch. The obvious lack of control was startling, but the growls that tore from Spike’s throat at their audience and Buffy’s distressed whimpers did what the act hadn’t been able to. It was finally the impetus to have Giles and Angel bolt from their seats. With over loud calls of their intention to return within half an hour, they left the oblivious pair to their heavy petting, desire the last thing that any of them knew as they escaped into the relative safety of night.
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