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A/N...I am seriously hoping you all don't mind the smut, because I can't hold it back. It's completely taking over the story!



Spike clenched his teeth and swallowed hard. Bloody bitch! Always with the hit and run. Didn’t help that he felt something kind of twitchy. Felt a little like guilt—but that couldn’t be right. He didn’t do guilt. Big Bad here. He scratched his head, rubbed his abs and succumbed to being at a complete loss. What the bleeding hell was a bloke to do when he’d just had an awesome shag and the silly bint couldn’t recognise the power of it?

Well, he was naked and he’d be buggered if he was going to stand around making a fool of himself while she went to hide in the living room. He twisted the faucets on and a burst of heat created a cloud of steam to immediately filter throughout the bathroom. Just before he was about to step into the tub, he saw her small pile of dirty clothing and with a groan of self-disgust, he took them into the water with him.

Soap and water got her top and pants clean and he set them on the side of the tub while he swished his own body with a soapfest. He loved the smell of soap. Not many vamps used it so it was nice when he smelled fresh amongst the refuse of the rest of his kind.

Cleaned and dried, he was left shirtless as he got his jeans back on and cinched up his belt. Spike didn’t mind, though. How could he when he had the comfort of Buffy boob imprints when she threw it back in his face?

Problem was, they had to go out. The little bit needed some clothes and a cot, and a pram. Rupert left money and it was time to go shopping. However, as fetching as Buffy might be in his black T-shirt and knickers, he didn’t think security would let her get far at the mall.

So what he needed was a dryer, and as Rupert obviously didn’t have a washer, he seriously doubted he was going to find the laundry companion. What to do, what to do?

“Slayer,” he called to her, determined to ignore the way she’d covered herself in watcher tweed while she hid in the farthest corner of the sofa.

Her eyes watched him, skittish, and her lips were wordless. He could read nothing of how she felt about their earlier interlude in her face and he rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“Gotta go shoppin’ for the midget, pet. You’ll need some clothes as I’ll wager you’ll want some input in what we get for her. Clothes and some other essentials.”

She nodded, her eyes wide as she felt her body go taut against the thin cloth that covered her.

“I don’t have anything else here. And I wouldn’t be caught dead at the mall in anything from you or Giles.”

Spike felt a smirk tickle his lips. There she was, riled up and ready to shoot her mouth off at him. If only he could shoot something into it rather than put up with the abuse that would come out.

“Right then. I washed your other stuff, but Rupert doesn’t have a dryer. Any suggestions?”

Buffy raised a brow, perplexed that he’d done something so helpful as wash her clothes after what she’d just done. Which didn’t mean she was going to jump in and fix the situation.

“I could call Willow and have her bring some of my stuff over?”

“Or I could just go over and pick it up. Be faster—you know, vamp speed.” He leered at her, hoping she’d say yes so he could have a little gander at what little snippets of lace the little red witch might see fit to include.

“Nah uh, too dangerous, Big Bad. Commandos after your butt, remember?”

He frowned in irritation, sick of his life being held captive to a bunch of weak pussywillows—hiding behind their nifty little vamp-zappers so they could neuter those far more powerful than themselves. Wankers!

He flopped down on the couch, defeat obvious in the slump of his shoulders and the bow of his head as he stared at the carpet, completely missing the hot stare Buffy treated his bare upper half before she staggered over to the phone.

In his head Spike was brutalising the little poofter soldiers in every way imaginable. He was peeling back their scalp to drill in monster shards of metal, shocking their little pea-brains with a direct blast of electricity. He was carving up their genitals so they could feel as impotent as he did. He mumbled the violent images all the while that Buffy gave her directions to Willow. When he left the thoughts behind and looked up again it was to a face of Slayer grins.

“Guess you want to hurt them, dontcha?”

He nodded vigorously, for a second thinking that she was going to actually let him.

“Pity you’ve got that chip in your head. Makes you all, flaccid?” she offered with an evil laugh.

“Didn’t hear you callin’ me flaccid just a while ago now, did I, pet?”

He hit her with his own burst of evil hilarity as her face burned red.

“Willow is bringing my stuff over right away. Xander was over there so he can get her here safely.”

“Oh, bleeding brilliant. Jus’ what I need, the bloody whelp seeing you in your knickers and my T-shirt. Bloody marvellous.”

Spike’s eyes goggled as Buffy sashayed her way over to where he sat and lifted the shirt over her head. She straddled his lap, grinding her pelvis against his hardness. “Do you think it would be better if he see me like this?” she asked, her voice coy and mischievous.

Spike stiffened—in more than one way.

“Are you gonna belt me again if I touch you?” He surveyed the perkiness that bounced gently right in front of his mouth and felt his fangs subtly piercing the gum as they sat and waited.

The way she tilted her head to the side, watching him with a nervousness betrayed only by the pounding of her heartbeat, captivated him completely, and so without waiting for her reply of positive or negative, he latched hold of one juicy pink nipple and sucked on it hard.

“Eep,” she squeaked. “You’re so…bad,” she told him, already writhing with the piercing pleasure of his blunt teeth scraping over the tip of her nipple. “Sp-Spike?”

He buried his teeth in her breast, fangs slipping past the soft flesh to mark her again. Not a lot of blood spurt into his mouth but it was enough to get him as hard as a straining erection could possibly be. He supped at her flesh, his mouth holding on to her with a tight suction as she gyrated in his lap. His hands on one side of her panties stretched the fabric taut until it split, leaving her crotchless with the cloth hanging from one leg. Her flesh met the stiff fabric of his jeans and his demon was going wild with the scent she was transferring to his clothes.


His demon receded through Spike’s force, letting go of her nipple and flesh so he could drag her lips to his. They’d not done enough of the kissing. So he held her head with one hand as his other loosened his zip and his cock sprung free and tall. Then he was directing himself to her slick hole, no thought in his mind other than he needed desperately to get inside. One smooth upward thrust and he met the edge of her womb, tickling the surface and leaving her writhing uncontrollably while she gasped around his lips. Her sensitive nubs rubbed like static friction against his chest as she bounced up and down on his cock.

Then she arched her back and she started leaning back, her hands holding his shins as her hair brushed the floor. Her moans got louder as Spike took control of the movement and he propelled himself into her with avid thrusts. He felt the bounce of her body and it made him harder and frantic, felt the tip of his cock brush against the small protruding bundle of nerves that had her panting and sobbing in need. His hand stroked her belly as he held her with the other, himself falling forward a little as he fell to his knees on the floor, her pelvis arched in his lap and her back close to lying flat. It was so erotic, so hot that he could now touch her tits and pinch the tantalising little pink peaks into hard and aching little peas. He bent her legs and directed them around his neck and started to pound her into the ground, his cock swollen and needy for the end. For the pinnacle that would see his juice flow out of her and tickle her arse crack.

He could feel her muscles pulsing around him, could feel the push of his cum in his balls as it told him to let go. He did so with a shout of pure satisfaction when her hand cupped his balls, giving a firm squeeze before she bucked at him a little more. Knowing that Willow was probably getting close to being at the flat, he grinned as he recognised the excuse. He pulled out his cock and milked it on Buffy’s breasts, little spurts catching at her bottom lip. His finger latched hold of her clit and he rubbed—distracting her burst of vitriol with a little mindless end to their activity.

It was firmly set in Spike’s mind that they were screwed. And not so much in the good way. He’d had her now, felt the warmth of her pussy and her blood and if he had to stay and help out with a baby, there was no way, no how he was giving this little sideline up.

Their breaths matched as they desperately gasped for air. Despite not needing the air to expand his lungs and promote speech, it was Buffy that came to first.

“Oh My God,” she said, her legs still would around his neck and licking experimentally at the pearl of dead semen on her lip. Her face screwed up waiting for the moment of ewww, but it wasn’t there. As she tasted her once mortal enemy, he took to rubbing his spendings into her nipples, delighting in the slick movement of his fingers over her flesh. He only stopped when he smelt approaching danger.

“Right you are, pet. But it might help if you take to thankin’ the Big Bad. God had little to do with it. An’ now you need to wash up. I’ll get your bag from the witch.” His sentence finished with a full stop of a knock at the door. Buffy shot him a panicked glance as she fell about untangling herself from his neck. He grinned as he spanked her arse hard, laughing low in his throat at her heated glare as she ran for the bathroom.

Spike stood, tucked himself into his jeans and slinked back into his tee, already loving the warmth of Buffy boobs against his pecs. Christ it was erotic and had him wanting the little spitfire Slayer all over again. Still, first things first.

Lia woke up just as he opened the door. Spike grinned proudly at his little girl who knew just when to keep to sleep, so dad could get in his not so little poke.

Willow stood at the door with a nervous smile, offering her equally nervous wave as she offered the bag. The sound of the baby had her rushing by Spike, though, as she raced over to pick Lia up.

“She’s so adowable,” Willow pouted at the tiny Ophelia, rubbing the baby’s chubby cheeks in an expression of delight. “Where’s Buffy?” she asked, looking around Giles’s apartment curiously.

“In the shower. Baby puked on ‘er. Bloody hilarious. Slayer freaking over munchkin vomit. She of the one used to wearing demon slime on an almost nightly rate.” He chuckled as he collapsed back on the sofa, imagining again slick slayer skin as she was probably washing him off her body.

No doubt about it the night was turning into something quite memorable.

He rolled his eyes back as an emasculating thought bounced around his brain in a similar enthusiasm to when she’d bounced on his cock. If he could just get the bint moving so they could go do some shopping!


A/N....You guys really inspire this fic to move! Thanks this time to bloodshedbaby, Esther, blacknblue2, Shady, Kimber, Amanda, Vampkiss, Crystal Pegasus, Rana, Niamh, Allison, Seraiza, Mary, Cordykitten, zanthine, Franchesca, smica and Mariana. Keep rocking! And Happy Easter.





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