|Story Title:||Can't Buy Me Love|
Stay With me
Spike has more surprises for Buffy in London ...
Edmond “Eddie” Giles Rosenberg-Maclay born March 11, 2010
Joshua "JJ" Harris was born on April 21st, 2004
The twins (Danielle Dawn, "Dani" and William Rupert, "Billy") were born on February 12th, 2004.
Annie was born on February 14th, 1999
Spike and Buffy were married in February 1999
Buffy was born January 19th, 1981
William/Spike was turned by Dru in
All the Potentials were endowed with full Slayer power in February 2003.
Buffy and Spike learned of the other dimensions and got the memories from the 'Rome' Universe in May, 2003.
The ‘Wish-World’ lasted from January 19th, 2005 to January, 16th 2010.
Douglas “Wrong Way” Corrigan: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Douglas_Corrigan
He was nicknamed "Wrong Way" in 1938. After a transcontinental flight from Long Beach, California, to New York, he flew from New York to Ireland, though his flight plan was filed to return to Long Beach. He claimed his unauthorized flight was due to a navigational error, caused by heavy cloud cover that obscured landmarks and low-light conditions, causing him to misread his compass. However, he had been denied permission to make a nonstop flight from New York to Ireland, and his "navigational error" was seen as deliberate. Nevertheless, he never publicly admitted to having flown to Ireland intentionally.
Stay With Me, Dainty Kane: http://youtu.be/qI_pTbkgoaQ
ScreenCaps courtesy of ScreenCap Paradise:
Thanks to 'epd4' for betaing this chapter.
|Rating / Warnings:||
NC17. Content is only suitable for mature adults. Contains explicit language, sex, adult themes, and other adult situations that some people may find objectionable. If you are under the age of 17 or find any of these themes objectionable – GO AWAY.
(Later that night) Monday, May 2nd, 2010, 10:00pm, London:
Buffy felt more than a little light-headed as they strolled along the River Thames, away from the London Eye, and towards the Embankment station for the Tube. That giddy feeling wasn’t from the one glass of champagne, however – it was from the love Spike poured over her during their half hour trip to the top of the world and back. She really didn’t know how he did it … how he could make her love him more, but he always seemed to find new ways to warm her heart, to touch her soul.
He had once told her that marriage was hard work … to do it right took more than love; it took effort and understanding and forgiveness and empathy and a ‘bloody good sense of humor’. There was no doubt that Spike put in the effort to make sure there was no room for complacency and no time to take each other, or their love, for granted. Buffy sighed dreamily as they held hands and walked under the stars and she made a mental note to return the favor as soon as she could. Spike shouldn’t be the only one cooking up surprises …
Spike steered her into the Underground station and down the escalator to the platform for the Northern Line heading south. “F5…” he muttered under his breath, looking at the colorful map on the wall that looked like a crayon box had melted on a large plate of spaghetti.
Buffy furrowed her brow and scanned the map to find what he was looking at, but Spike turned her away too quickly for her to find ‘F5’ and gently steered her to the right platform.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” she questioned, trying to look back over her shoulder at the map.
“Have I ever steered you wrong yet?” Spike challenged, cocking a brow at her.
“There was that one time at Disneyland … I told you the Pirates of the Caribbean was near Tarzan’s Tree House, but nooooo … you said it was…”
“Once! One bloody time I got lost in that soddin’ place and you’ll never forget it, will ya? Traveled all over the bloody world without getting lost, but you have to remember that! You get lost in the mall,” Spike pointed out as they waited for the train.
Buffy laughed. “I don’t really get lost in the mall, I just tell you that to give myself extra shopping time…” she admitted.
Spike rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Just trust me…I know where I’m goin’.”
“Would you care to share with the studio audience?” Buffy quipped.
“No, Alex … I don’t believe I would. As someone pointed out to our daughter not long ago, for something to be a surprise, there has to be an actual element of surprise to it.”
“No fair using Slayer-logic on me…” Buffy protested.
Spike rolled his eyes as the train pulled up and the doors opened. “Here we go, m’ lady. Your chariot awaits.”
Buffy sighed as she stepped in and took a seat in the nearly empty car, Spike following closely behind her. He knew she’d figure it out shortly, but there was no way he could make her keep her eyes closed the whole way … could he?
“We’re going the wrong way,” Buffy protested after a couple of stops.
“Are we, then? And since you don’t know where we’re goin’, how do you know it’s the wrong way?”
“This isn’t the way back to the hotel… we should be going that way,” Buffy insisted, pointing off to the side.
“Actually, the hotel is that way,” Spike corrected, moving her arm forty-five degrees so it was pointing basically back the direction they’d come from.
“Oh… Are you sure?” Buffy questioned, looking around as if trying to get her bearings, which was rather difficult in the Underground.
Spike blew out a long breath. “No more truffles for you, go right to your head, they do.”
“Well, it’s not fair … I never learned to navigate by the stars … I need the sun,” Buffy defended.
“We’re in a bloody tunnel … you couldn’t see the stars or the sun, even if it was out,” Spike pointed out as a strong feeling of déjà vu came over him. Bloody hell … she’s turning into Dru, he thought, remembering how Dru could see the stars even when she was indoors.
Buffy rolled her eyes. “I know that, Einstein … I’m not Drusilla!” she argued, making Spike worry that he’d said that ‘out loud’. “I just meant that I must’ve gotten turned around earlier … kinda like someone got turned around in Disneyland…”
“Oh, bloody hell…”
As Buffy watched the stations pass, she realized they were heading towards Clapham … when Spike guided her off the train at the Clapham Common station, her hunch was confirmed. He must’ve figured out which house it was, after all …
Buffy was excited that he’d been able to figure it out and fought to keep her stride slow, matching Spike’s leisurely pace, as they walked past the Holy Trinity church and towards the north side of the Common. When Spike turned off the roadway onto a footpath that lead into the park … away from Macaulay Road, Buffy stopped.
“This isn’t the right way,” Buffy informed him, looking around quizzically – she was sure Macaulay road was to the right … he turned left.
“Isn’t it, then?” Spike questioned, stopping and looking at her with raised brows. “Since you don’t know where we’re going, how do you know it’s not the right bloody way?”
“’Cos you lived on Macaulay Road … since the church is there,” Buffy pointed at the tall steeple of Wanda and John’s old parish, “Macaulay Road has to be that way,” she concluded pointing to the north.
“I’m right, aren’t I? Who’s had too many truffles now, smart guy?” she asked smugly, folding her arms over her chest in victory – she knew she was right – there was no doubt.
Spike nodded. “Ya got me … Macaulay Road is that way…” he confirmed, pulling a silk blindfold out of his pocket and holding it up for her to see. “Time for m’ backseat navigator to take a bloody break…” he informed her, moving behind her and wrapping the cloth around her eyes.
“Hey!” Buffy protested with a frown, but didn’t stop him from tying the soft fabric around her head. “That’s the thanks I get for making sure we don’t get lost?”
Spike chuckled. “Thanks, pet … you’re the best bloody navigator since Douglas Corrigan,” Spike assured her seriously.
Buffy furrowed her brows … she thought he would’ve compared her to Magellan or Columbus or even Chekov … the one from Star Trek, not the one from World Lit class. Who the heck is Douglas Corrigan, anyway? Oh … was he the first guy that flew around the world non-stop?
Spike started turning her in circles, like they do children before letting them take a swipe at a piñata, and Buffy let the question go as he spun her first one way, then the other.
“If you don’t want to revisit those truffles I ate, you better stop …” Buffy moaned after about five times around and back again.
Spike stopped her, holding onto her shoulders as she swayed on her feet. Buffy grabbed onto his arm for support with one hand and held her churning stomach with the other … baby no likey the teacups.
“Now, which way, Corrigan?” Spike questioned when her green tint faded a bit.
Buffy pointed towards the south. “Bloody brilliant, you are, pet,” Spike smirked as he guided her to the left, towards the south, down the footpath that he had originally started to take before her protest.
“You have to get up preee-tty early to put one over on me, buster…” Buffy boasted as she held to his arm and walked blindly down the walkway next to him.
“Of that, there is no doubt, luv.”
As they walked, Buffy could hear the sounds of the traffic, and even the smells of the city, getting further away. She could hear people talking as they walked past, and the sounds of crickets chirping started to overpower the sounds of horns honking in the distance. They were obviously not going towards the Weckerly’s old homestead, they were going into the Common. Just what did Spike have up his sleeve? Buffy couldn’t wait to find out, although another visit to the bandstand brought up mixed feelings. Memories of the night spent there in 1890 were bittersweet at best … she knew now that what happened was how it had to be to counteract Hallie’s wish, but it still pained her heart to know how much she’d hurt William that night in her travel back in time.
Spike led her up the stairs of the bandstand and stopped her in the center of the pavilion. He turned her to face him then pulled the blindfold away from her eyes. Buffy looked around and her hunch was confirmed … back to the scene of the heartbreak, it wasn’t her proudest moment. She looked back at Spike, who was watching the emotions wash over her features and gave him a questioning look.
“I was both killed and born right here … awoken from a mediocre life and flung headlong into an extraordinary one,” he began softly. “There were too many tears shed that night … too much hurt, too much heartache. Our little bit deserves better than that … she deserves this place to bring warmth to our hearts, not pain … not anguish or guilt.”
Tears well in Buffy’s eyes and spilled over, streaking her cheeks as he spoke, and she bit her bottom lip to stop it from quivering … all that was true. When their baby was born, would the agony and guilt she felt that night, would the hurt that she’d caused William, be reflected in their eyes every time they looked at the innocent life that came out of the pain?
“So … I’m going to ask you again, my beautiful fallen angel,” Spike continued, his voice sliding easily back into the accent of his youth. He dropped down to one knee in front of her, took her left hand in his, and slowly slid her engagement ring and wedding band back on her finger as he looked up into her glistening, green eyes.
“Avengelyne, will you stay with me forever? Will you be my lover and my friend and protect my heart, as I vow to protect yours? Will you be the mother of my children and the savior of my soul? Will you be my wife and let me love you until our souls are free of this earth and we again fly past the sun on gossamer wings?”
Buffy was dumbstruck, this isn’t what she expected. She looked from him to her rings that he had slid back on her left hand, then back to his earnest eyes … William’s eyes, as tears streamed down her cheeks. Buffy swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded as she tried to get her brain to start working again. She dropped down to her knees in front of him and finally uttered, “You know I will …”
Buffy leaned in and dropped a soft kiss on Spike’s lips as he still held her left hand in both of his between their bodies. “I love you so much, William. I never want to lose you … I’ll never leave you again … never,” she vowed with all her heart as she stroked his cheek softly with her right hand and looked into his burning blue eyes.
“I missed you all those years … searched for m’ angel, I did … finally gave up on ever feelin’ the way she made me feel again,” Spike admitted, his accent changing back to the cockney that he’d adopted as a vampire. “Then I found you…”
Spike pulled the ruby and diamond heart pendant from his pocket and held it up for her to see. “And you brought that feeling back … you let William open his heart to you without fear. I gave you this token of my love so you would always have William’s heart next to yours … no matter how far apart we are, my heart is always with you – it’s yours, Buffy … yours alone.”
Spike unhooked the chain and held it up and with tears still flowing, Buffy sat down on the hard floor of the bandstand and turned around, holding her hair up out of the way so he could fasten it around her neck. Spike lifted it over her head and placed his heart back in its rightful place, next to hers, and fastened the clasp behind her back. With her hair still held off to one side, Spike dropped a soft kiss on the back of her neck and pulled her with him as he sat back onto the floor, as well.
Buffy snuggled back between his outstretched legs and leaned against him and Spike wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her shoulder, leaning his head against hers and closing his eyes as he breathed in her scent. Her salty tears mingled with the vanilla and honey fragrance of her shampoo, and the dab of Chanel No. 5 on her warm skin, and that all combined with the champagne and strawberry-chocolate truffles she’d had earlier – it all fused into an intoxicating bouquet that added up to only one person … Buffy.
“I would’ve stayed if I could’ve,” Buffy offered, her voice barely a whisper as she fingered the heart pendant as it laid against her golden skin. “I never meant to hurt you … of all the things I did during that time, that’s the one thing I’m most ashamed of.”
Spike shook his head against hers. “Couldn’t be helped … don’t be ashamed, don’t feel guilty, don’t feel anything but joy over that night, Buffy. In a few months, we’ll have a beautiful reminder of that magical night – there’s no room for shame or guilt in that.” Spike laid his hands over her abdomen and the baby growing within her … for him it had been over a century, for her just a few weeks… but they could both feel the emotions of that night like it had just happened.
Buffy nodded solemnly. He was right … it couldn’t be helped and it had given them another child with a blank slate for a future … this child could be anyone, could do anything – just like their other children, the whole world was open to them … prophecies be damned.
Spike shifted slightly and dug into his pocket again, this time pulling out the ‘promise ring’ that he’d given her after the ‘Angel thing’.
“You kept your promise…” Spike proclaimed as he held the ring up in front of her. “You didn’t give up.”
Buffy sighed heavily as she took the ring from his hand and looked at it through glistening eyes in the dim light from the lamps along the walk path. “I did give up,” she reminded him softly, as she turned the ring slowly in her fingers. “I … I killed D’Hoffryn and destroyed all the Vengeance Demons … I’d done everything that I could think to do to get you back and it didn’t work and … I gave up.”
Buffy leaned to one side and turned her head to look at him. Spike’s blue eyes shone with compassion and love and remorse for not being able to keep his own promise to not let her walk alone ever again as he listened. “I took those pills … I … I didn’t know what else to do and I couldn’t stand the thought of living another day with that hole in my soul. I felt so … empty without you, without our family …”
Spike wiped her tears with the pad of his thumb as Buffy took a deep, shuddering breath before continuing, “It’s Wanda that never gave up … Wanda and Mom saved me … they … they helped me listen to my true heart – they helped me see that I hadn’t done everything I could do to get you back…”
Buffy had told him this before … it had been another of those conversations she wished she could’ve just avoided, one of those things she could’ve kept to herself, but she knew to heal, she needed to share everything with him; the good, the bad, and the ugly. Part of her wanted his forgiveness … the other part wanted him to punish her, to be angry and tell her how stupid and selfish she’d been to take those pills. What she got was nothing short of absolution and compassion from him …
“You didn’t give up, luv … you took the path you had to take to find the right road,” Spike assured her as he took the ring from her and lifted her right hand up to slide it back in place.
Buffy closed her fist, not letting him put it back on her finger. “I don’t deserve it …” she protested quietly, dropping her head in shame and closing her eyes. She’d nearly left him in hell – burning, freezing, running from the demons, getting torn to bits for all of eternity … she’d nearly failed her family, she came so close. She didn’t deserve his forgiveness …
Spike put a finger under her chin and lifted and turned her head to the side so he could see her eyes. “Buffy, even I gave up lookin’ for my fallen angel after a time … when I thought I’d looked everywhere I could … I gave up. If the situation were reversed, I don’t know that I would’ve done anything differently than you did, pet. There’s no shame in taking the long way home … in the end, the only thing that matters is that you made it home and you brought us all with ya.”
Buffy searched the blue depths of his eyes, looking beyond the surface and letting his love and forgiveness suture the gash that her guilt had left in her soul. Spike forced her fist open and slid the promise ring back in its rightful place. “Trust me, luv … you kept your promise.”
Buffy gave him a small, sad smile and looked down at the ring, not sure that he was right, but certain that she would never break that promise again. If it took ten lifetimes without him to get him back, even if she could only have him for one day, she would live them … she would never let him down again.
Spike pulled the last piece of jewelry from his pocket. They had finally gotten the safe from Travers’ office open the day before and Amanda, as instructed, had returned all Buffy’s jewelry to him; now it was his turn to return it to his wife. Spike held up the yellow and white gold ring with two interlocking hearts so Buffy could see it.
“Don’t remember when I gave ya this, do ya?” he asked her as she took it from his hand and looked at it closely.
Buffy smiled sadly and shook her head. He had given it to her during the missing five years.
“When the little bits started school,” Spike recalled, “you’d walk them to the bus stop every mornin’ and watch them go and come home and cry. All our babies were growin’ up, going off on their own in the world a little more every day.
“Before they started going off on the big yellow bus, you were so happy … talking about all the time you’d have to finally get stuff done that you’d been puttin’ off … you could do anything you wanted all day while they were in school, maybe even go back to university yourself. You’d be free again…
“Turned out, you just missed them – missed the bike rides to the park you’d take every mornin’ with the three of ‘em – ‘cos, like Mary's little lamb, wherever ours are, Harris’ whelp is sure to follow. Even missed the Kool-Aid stains on the couch from all three of ‘em wrestlin’ in the livin’ room, the broken knick-knacks from them playing football in the house when it was rainin’, Junior screaming at the top of his lungs for the Whelp and Lemon Drop to shut up when he was tryin’ to watch Star Wars for the hundredth bloody time and they would say the lines in funny voices ‘fore the characters did…”
Buffy laughed lightly through her tears, envisioning the chaos that having not one, not two, but three small Tasmanian devils at home all day long could create. She remembered the first time she’d taken Dani and Billy to meet the bus after she got back and how much it hurt to watch her babies climb those tall steps and be carried away from her. She could definitely see how depressed it could make her to be suddenly cast out of a tumultuous maelstrom of activity to a silent, serene, sane, and utterly boring existence.
“You said your heart felt empty and alone …” Spike continued as he took the ring back from her hand and slid it slowly onto her pinky. “This is to remind you that your heart is never alone. No matter what … my heart is forever intertwined with yours, you’ll never be alone, Buffy … I’ll always be here.”
Buffy closed her eyes and nodded as she took his hand in hers and brought it to her lips, dropping a soft kiss on his palm. “I love you so much …” she whispered against his hand before turning to the side and capturing his soft lips with hers.
Spike wrapped his arms around her tightly as Buffy turned in his embrace on the cool, stone floor of the bandstand. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips as she sat in his lap and deepened the kiss. Buffy ran her hands through his hair, freeing his locks from their gel confines and setting William’s curls loose, just as they’d been that night in 1890. Buffy pulled back to look at him, smiling as she fussed with his hair, running her fingers through it until he ‘looked a right ponce’ … as he’d so often described any photo that she’d managed to snap of him with his curls unbound.
Spike watched her face as she undid all his hard work and couldn’t help but smile at the joy that danced in her eyes as he felt his hair take on a life of its own under her touch. “Show me again what true love is, Avengelyne…” Spike’s voice rumbled from deep within him as he leaned in and took her lips in another passionate kiss.
“Hey! Get a room!” someone yelled from the footpath to the south of the pavilion breaking their reverie.
Buffy half expected Spike to yell back and tell the intruder to ‘get stuffed’ or ‘sod off’, but instead he said, “Brilliant idea…”
Buffy pulled away disappointedly … truth be told, she would’ve liked to have made more good memories in the bandstand to counteract the old ones, but it wasn’t 1890 and it wasn’t the middle of winter. There were lots more people in London, and lots more people in the Common this night, than there were on the fateful night they’d spent here in 1890. Buffy stood up and gave Spike a hand up from the floor, but when she started to walk towards the stairs to leave, he pulled her back.
“Where ya going, luv?” he asked, standing firm in the center of the bandstand.
Buffy looked at him quizzically. “To … get a room?” It was halfway between a statement and a question.
“Got a room, right ‘ere,” Spike indicated, waving his arm around the large gazebo.
The furrow between Buffy’s brows got deeper as she looked around. “Yeah … but it’s kind of an … open air room…” she pointed out.
“No worries…” Spike assured her, pulling out a small, leather satchel from his pocket. He opened the pull-string at the top and poured a handful of what looked like glittering gold dust into his palm. Holding his palm flat, with the gold dust barely cupped in his hand, he turned in a circle and blew the glittering magic all around the bandstand.
Suddenly a hush fell over them, Buffy could no longer hear the sounds of the city or even the crickets … just beyond the outer perimeter of the bandstand was an undulating wall of gold that glittered softly, casting a warm glow over them and the pavilion and blocking out the world.
Buffy turned back to Spike who was pouring the contents of a second satchel into his palm, this one with sparkling, turquoise-blue dust. “I thought you didn’t like magic…” she pointed out as she watched him.
Spike didn’t answer, but repeated the process with the richly colored blue dust, blowing it off his palm in a slow circle within the wall of gold and the interior of the bandstand was transformed from nothing but cold, hard stone and iron to a sanctuary of warmth and softness. Around the perimeter of the bandstand, diaphanous, chiffon curtains in rich jewel tones of sapphire blue, emerald green, and amethyst purple, hung from the ceiling. They softened the resplendent, golden light from the wall of magic even more as they billowed softly in a breeze of their own creation. Satiny pillows of all sizes and shapes in the same rich tones covered about half of the stone floor; off to one side, away from the pillows, sat a wood-burning stove and next to it was a ‘breakfast in bed’ tray with silverware and dishes and a crystal bud vase containing a single dusty-pink rose. A teapot whistled on top of the stove and the smell of cottage pie cooking, along with sweetbreads, and treacle pudding filled the oasis with a heavenly aroma, making Buffy’s stomach rumble in hunger.
Buffy turned back to Spike in amazement and just a little bit of awe. Spike smirked as he stepped up to her and wrapped his arms around her. “Sometimes to make a night magical, you have to use actual magic…” he explained before dropping a soft kiss on her lips.
Buffy and Spike sat on the soft cushions and talked and laughed and fed each other cottage pie, candy-cane biscuits, and treacle pudding, and drank ‘Passionate Rose Tea’ … black tea blended with pieces of passion fruit, bright yellow sunflower blossoms, and beautiful pink rosebuds. It wasn’t exactly what she’d had in 1890, but it added a new dimension, with a sweet, tropical flavor, to this ‘re-creation’ of her meal with Nellie, Anne, and Bess at the Weckerly home. Everything tasted just as she remembered, with the treacle pudding being just as ‘scrummy’ as it had been that night. Buffy made sure to save some of everything to bring back to the hotel for Bess …
When they'd finished eating, Spike got up and took the tray back over by the stove, which had magically cooled down after he’d removed the food. When he turned back around he caught Buffy staring at him as if caught in a trance. Her eyes met his and he held her gaze as he walked slowly back towards her, neither green nor blue wavering or blinking. Spike knelt back next to her on the pillows and tilted his head, considering the dreamy, far away look in her eyes … how could she take his breath away (figuratively, of course) every time he looked at her?
“You’re amazing…” Buffy began, breaking her reverie, but keeping her gaze locked on his as he slowly knelt back down and sat in front of her. “Just when I think there’s nothing you can possibly do to make me love you more … you do. Just when I think I know you so well that there’s no way you could surprise me again, you do. Just when I think I know where you’re going … you spin my head around and fill my tummy with old-fashioned, scrumptious goodies.”
“Well, I’ve heard tell that the way to an angel’s heart is through her stomach…” Spike teased.
“That’s funny,” Buffy teased back, leaning forward and resting her forehead against his as she took both his hands in hers. “I always thought it was a few inches lower…”
“Did ya, now?” Spike questioned as he leaned his body towards her and pushed her onto her back on the pillows, pulling his hands out of hers and holding himself above her on strong arms. “Ya mean I did all that slavin’ over a hot stove for nothin’?”
Buffy shrugged, running her hands over the soft fabric covering hard muscles of his arms as she looked up into his eyes with a mischievous grin. “I wouldn’t say that…you got me all warm and gooey inside …”
“Warm, gooey angels are my favorite kind,” Spike whispered as he lowered his lips to hers and made her warm, gooey insides begin to boil and tingle with the desire that had been building in her since Spike asked her on this date earlier in the day. In fact, that warm and gooey feeling had started then too … he’d been so cute, acting a proper Victorian gentleman, giving her a deep bow and ‘requesting the pleasure of her company’ for an evening on the town.
Buffy moaned against Spike’s mouth as his tongue found its way between her soft, sensuous lips and her tongue swirled around it, inviting him in … joining his in the dance. Buffy felt an overwhelming need to feel his skin … to feel his hard body pressed against hers with no encumbrances between them. Spike’s wild angel growled against his lips as she flipped them over, dropping Spike onto his back on the soft pillows and making him gasp in surprise.
Buffy settled herself on top of his hips and began slowly unbuttoning his shirt, running her fingers along his cool, smooth skin as she worked her way from his collar down to his belt. Buffy pulled his shirt out from his pants and let it fall open, revealing the hard muscles of his torso to her. Before they left the London Eye, he’d slipped into the loo and removed the Band-Aids that Bess had put on his stomach … the bleeding had stopped, but there were still two lines of raw, pink wounds from the removal of the stitches running like rail-road tracks on either side of a wide, angry, red scar.
She bit her bottom lip as she ran her fingers lightly over his soft skin, down from his collarbone, circling his strong pecs and dark nipples, lingering longer on the scar over his heart where Kralik had found and removed the Gem from its hiding place. She blinked back tears and forced her hands down, dancing them softly over his six-pack abs and the even larger scar that obscured his bellybutton. She took a deep, shuddering breath as the reality of how close she came to losing him seeped into her brain, despite her best efforts to think only happy thoughts.
Spike grabbed her hands and pulled them to his lips, dropping soft kisses on her knuckles and Buffy looked into his eyes as she fought to keep the tears from falling ... she was losing that battle.
“I’m alright …” he assured her. “No need for tears, pet …” he whispered to her softly.
Buffy nodded and looked up at the ceiling, trying to get her composure back. “I’m sorry I … I was so stupid, running right into their trap, getting you … hurt,” she stammered, apologizing again for her rash decision and thinking that ‘getting hurt’ didn’t begin to describe what he’d been through.
“And I’m sorry I didn’t keep you safe – wasn’t all blood and puppies for you, either, pet … so, that makes us even, yeah?” Spike questioned, squeezing her hands and pulling her eyes back down to meet his.
Buffy finally nodded solemnly and Spike released her hands. She gently outlined the scars on his chest and stomach again and blew out a long breath to try and refocus her mind away from the dungeon and to the here and now.
“No worries,” Spike interrupted her thoughts as she trailed her fingers over the tracks of the stitches on his abdomen. “Be gone ‘fore ya know it, they will. Only thing allowed to tarnish my hot, tight little body are Slayers…”
Buffy smiled and looked back into his eyes and let the love she saw in them wash away those thoughts of the dungeon and prophecies and pain that had infiltrated her mind. “I think we need to amend that rule … I’m the only Slayer allowed to leave any marks on you.”
“Mmmmm … just what did you have in mind, pet?” Spike asked seductively, waggling his eyebrows up and down.
Buffy laughed and resumed her exploration of his ‘hot, tight little body’ with her hands and eyes. “You’ll just have to wait and see…”
Spike’s muscles quivered and trembled under her delicate touch and he let himself get lost in the hunger and desire and longing that bloomed in her eyes. It was the same look Avengelyne had had all those years ago; he remembered those beautiful eyes of his fallen angel as being greener than any emerald ever mined and brighter than any star in the sky … and Buffy’s were exactly the same.
Buffy lifted her gaze from his body back to his eyes and felt herself falling into limpid, sapphire-blue pools of love and longing. “I still make you quiver …” she whispered, her voice raspy with yearning, as she descended deeper and deeper into the crystalline blue of his eyes and let his love surround her like a protective cocoon, keeping the rest of the world and all the badness away.
“Always…” Spike agreed, his voice deep and rumbly, full of his own growing need.
Buffy sat back on his legs and tugged the hem of her dress, lifting it slowly up over her head and off. Spike watched mesmerized by her golden skin and graceful movements as she revealed her body to him, inch by glorious inch. Unlike William, Spike had seen it … well, too many times to count, but like that very first night with Avengelyne, it still left him awestruck … left him wanting to explore every crease and crevasse, to kiss every beautiful inch, and caress every quivering nerve.
Spike ran his hands up from her strong thighs to the swell of her hips along the sides of the small bulge in her tummy where their baby was growing and up to her round breasts. His eyes following his hands as they worked their way slowly up her body, watching her skin tremble under his loving touch. Her skin looked that much more glorious in the dancing, golden, magical light that filtered in through the sheer curtains, and the thin sheen of perspiration that had suddenly appeared made her skin glisten in the soft light.
“I still make you tremble…” Spike murmured and Buffy moaned her agreement as his thumbs brushed lightly over her hard nipples as he cupped her full breasts in his hands, making her back arch and push against his touch, silently begging for more. There was no need for him to ask how she wanted to be touched as William had … he knew better than anyone every spot on her body that drove her insane, how a light touch could make her beg for more, how to tease her within an inch of her life. He loved nothing more than pulling the bowstring tighter and tighter, until it was dangerously near its breaking point, before releasing it with unbridled power and sending her hurtling blissfully across the sky … and more importantly, he knew she loved it too.
“Oh, God, Spike…” Buffy moaned as her head rolled back and she moved her hips, rubbing her wet panties against the rock hard erection still trapped in his pants. Spike sat up under her and captured one nipple with his teeth, holding it lightly between them and flicking his tongue against the hard, hot nub while he continued to caress her other breast with his palm and fingers. Spike could feel her riding the waves of ecstasy as they grew higher and higher with every flick of his tongue and touch of his hand. He loved making love to her sweet, full breasts, to her hot, hard, dusty-pink nipples. He loved the way the way her supple breasts felt under his palms, how hard and demanding the little nubs got with just a touch, how they tasted, how they bounced and swayed with every breath, every movement, how they could build the waves up and up and up until they crashed over her with the power of utter bliss.
Suddenly, Spike sucked down hard on the nipple he’d been teasing with his tongue and rolled the other between his thumb and forefinger and Buffy’s whole body tensed, her back arched, her hips pressed down against his hard-on as the wave she’d been riding engulfed her, sending ripple after ripple of rapture washing through her body, demanding to be released lest she drown in it. When the dam holding the rapture at bay burst, the animalistic scream that Spike loved so much escaped her throat as every conscious thought was swept away with the bliss that engulfed her.
Buffy dug her fingernails into Spike’s strong shoulders, anchoring herself to her own personal ‘wave machine’ as he continued sending a flood of euphoria surging through her. Finally, Buffy gasped for air and the tension in her body waned as the waves that enveloped her faded and became nothing more than small ripples tingling her skin. Spike slowed and softened his ministrations, changing to soft kisses and caresses of her hot, salty flesh as she came back down from the clouds.
Buffy took his face between her hands and lifted his mouth up to hers, devouring his tender lips with a burning desire that only Spike could spark in her. Spike wrapped his arms around her and pulled her bare chest against his, smashing those supple breasts and hard nubs against his solid chest as he let her ravage his mouth with hers. Her tongue probed in, tasting, exploring, wrapping around his like a boa that had been too long without a meal. Buffy moaned against his mouth greedily, hungrily … not for food, hungry for more, hungry for him.
Suddenly, Buffy dropped her hands from the side of his head where she’d been holding him, down to his shoulders and pushed him back violently, dropping him back onto the pillows that covered the floor. Buffy slid down his legs and unfastened his belt and pants with practiced ease. Spike watched the beautiful angel atop him turn into a ravenous huntress – her green eyes smoldered with glowing embers of desire, her breath came as fast, shallow gasps, her heart raced, pounding loudly in her chest and echoing in his ears, adrenaline pulsed through her body, and her yearning dampened her soft, pink folds and filled his nostrils with its lustful redolence. And, if she was the huntress, then he, most definitely, was the hunted … and that was perfectly fine with him.
Buffy freed Spike’s stiff, thick cock from his trousers and dropped her mouth on him hard and fast. Spike’s hips jerked under her and expletives escaped his throat unbidden as the mushroom head hit the back of her throat. “Bloody-fucking-hell! Fuck, Buffy … yes, so fucking …ahhhhh … shit! …good!”
The more he moaned and cursed and jerked under her, the harder Buffy sucked and licked and plunged down on him. She swirled her tongue back and forth, up and down his length as she began pumping him with her hand and lips … squeezing harder, jacking him faster, taking him deeper into her hot, hungry mouth until his exclamations turned into roars and growls, and deep, raspy gasps. When she raked her fingernails across his tight balls, past his taint, and down to his sensitive, puckered hole, teasing it with a light touch, Spike’s entire body tensed and he exploded into her. With a final howl of release that vibrated the undulating, magical walls of their sanctuary, making the golden light glimmer even more brightly, and caused the sheer curtains flutter wildly around them, the huntress captured her prey.
As she’d done with William, Buffy swallowed eagerly until his blissful spasms slowed and finally stopped. Spike reached down and pulled her off his cock and up his body, capturing her lips with his – knowing what he would find when his tongue delved into her mouth – his essence. Their tongues danced in a tempestuous tango, swirling around each other as his salty tang mingled with her sweet ambrosia and created his favorite flavor … Spuffy. He wondered if Häagen-Dazs would start offering that flavor? ‘X-rated’ ice cream … Mmmmm …‘Nectar of the Gods’…
Buffy pulled back and looked at him with a sexy, satisfied smile on her lips and Spike gazed up at her with unabashed adoration. This wasn’t the innocent, hesitant, awestruck William anymore; this was Spike, still awestruck by his fallen angel, but no longer hesitant and most definitely not innocent. William’s romantic heart, his strong soul, still thrummed beneath the surface … like an iceberg in the north Atlantic, the cocky, sexy, blond warrior wasn’t all there was to Spike … there was so much more underneath that you couldn’t see until you delved deeper.
Buffy had often wondered if she had been able to stay in 1890 if she would’ve been able to fit into that life or if she would have eventually hurt William even more. At that moment when William asked her to stay, she wanted to more than anything in the world – to be with him and their children, even in Victorian England, was so much more than she had … but would it have been enough as the years went by? Or would she have found herself still longing for Spike … would she have eventually resented William and a mundane life of quiet desperation?
Buffy laid her body down atop her husband, resting her head on his shoulder, and sighed as he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. She’d never know the answer to that question, and that was probably best. She had her man back … her warrior, her lover, her husband, her friend. She had William’s heart and soul and she had Spike’s strength and wit and devotion … she had it all right here wrapped around her.
Spike stroked his hands softly up and down the bare skin of her back as she lay atop him. Her body heating his, her heart thudding against is chest, and her salty sweat dampening his skin all combined to transport him back in time … back to that one night that changed everything. The snow was falling all around them, but he distinctly remembered feeling overheated, nervous perspiration ran down his body, dampening his clothing, and his own heart threatened to beat right out of his chest as his angel showed him what love could be. And here she was … still showing him, still taking him to heaven, still giving everything to him, still pouring her love over him like sweet, golden honey.
What would’ve happened if she could’ve stayed with him in 1890 … if he had never met Dru? Spike smiled sadly and nuzzled against Buffy’s soft tresses as they fanned out over his bare skin, breathing in the scent of her. William would’ve had a tiger by the tail with Buffy … she’d shown him his inner animal, allowed him to embrace it, but would it have been enough to hold her? The life of a Victorian lady didn’t really suit this wildcat in his arms … eventually she would’ve grown tired of the monotony … tired of William, no matter how hard she tried not to. He knew she loved William’s tender, romantic heart … but she loved Spike’s swagger, his brazen style, and cocky, ‘devil may care’ attitude … and she loved being a Slayer. She would’ve lost all that if she’d stayed … there would be no way to stop the resentment from creeping in as the years passed by.
Spike pressed a soft kiss down on the top of her head and squeezed her even tighter. This is where she belonged … this is where they both belonged.
Buffy raised her head up and looked at him and Spike brushed her tousled hair back from her face. “I love you…” he whispered to her, letting his eyes wander over her flushed face and emerald eyes.
“Love you more…” Buffy teased with a smile.
“Not bloody likely…” Spike argued, smiling back at her.
Buffy shrugged her head slightly. “Prove it,” she challenged.
Spike smirked and flipped them over in one powerful move, making Buffy shriek in surprise. Spike kicked the rest of the way out of his pants and held himself over her with strong arms, his lips just a breath away from hers. “Gladly…” he whispered before closing the small gap, pulling her bottom lip into his mouth and teasing it with his teeth and tongue.
Buffy moaned when Spike trailed his mouth leisurely along her jawbone, dropping soft kisses all along its path, before finding the spot behind her ear that started fireworks bursting over her, tickling and heating her skin with bright, colorful sparks of desire. Buffy ran her hands up and down his bulging arms, to his shoulders and along his solid back. His soft, cool skin was in sharp contrast to the hard muscles beneath and her warm palms above. She loved the way his muscles felt under her fingers as they strained against gravity to hold his body over hers … every hill and valley they created in his body was like a wonderland for her fingers to explore.
Spike had set off on his own mission of exploration, trailing his mouth and tongue down from her neck to her collarbone before pausing in the soft hills and deep dale of her chest. He slid his tongue between the mountains, tasting the essence of her as her salty perspiration gathered in the valley. He followed the river slowly down to the sea … past the expanding rise of her stomach, over her bellybutton and then back down again towards the ‘Sea of Utopia’. Spike paused his exploration of his angel’s body when he met the barrier of her thong, which she’d never quite gotten around to shedding. It was all that was left between him and his quest to drown in the heavenly waves of her desire.
Spike sat back on his heels between her legs and rolled the stretchy fabric slowly down her outside thighs. Buffy lifted her legs up and rested them on his shoulders, then raised her bottom off the pillows as Spike continued to slide the silky, damp undergarment down her golden legs. When her scent engulfed him, his nostrils flared and his eyes closed as a deep, yearnful moan rumbled up from deep within. When he opened his eyes, he met Buffy’s in the flickering light of the magical shell surrounding their sanctuary and wondered just how many times he could drown in her before he’d lose the ability to surface again.
Buffy pushed up with one arm and continued where Spike had been thwarted, removing her thong and tossing it aside as he watched in silence, his senses on overload. Buffy settled her legs on either side of her husband, laid one hand gently on his cheek, and pressed her mouth against his ear. “I want you in me…” she whispered to him, her voice husky with desire, breaking Spike out of the trance that he’d descended into under her hypnotic and overpowering spell.
Buffy lay back on the soft pillows, pulling Spike down with her with one hand behind his neck. She wrapped her legs around his slim hips and Spike pressed his spell-bound erection against her wet folds, sliding it down her slit until it found the utopia it was searching for. Buffy gasped and her back arched up against him as he pressed into her wet heat slowly, their eyes locked onto each other as they both found the heaven they desired. This time Spike knew what he would see in her eyes … there was no fear of hurting the angel or seeing disdain flash in her eyes or of her spurning him … he knew there would be only joy and bliss and love reflected in their depths, along with a yearning matched only by his own.
“Oh, God … Spike …” Buffy moaned as she held to his strong shoulders and enveloped him in her velvet walls. Spike never got tired of hearing her moan his name … or scream it ... or whisper it, never got tired of watching her pupils dilate with unrestrained bliss, never got tired of sliding into her … drowning in her.
When Spike’s hips hit her flesh, with his rod buried to the root, he leaned down near her ear and whispered, “Love you … love you so much … je t'aime beaucoup.”
“Tons and tons…” Buffy agreed breathily as he started moving against her. At first pulling out as slowly as he’d pushed in, then slowly increasing his tempo and she matched him, rising up as he thrust down. Her pussy walls tightened around his cock with each thrust, each time his pubic bone crashed down on her clit sent thousands of electrical shocks out in all directions, curling her toes, tingling her core, and lifting her higher and higher on waves of bliss.
Spike dropped down to his elbows and slowed his movements. He ground down slowly, deliberately on her sensitive nub … then unhurriedly pulled up … nearly out, and then pressed back down again as he tangled his hands in her long, golden tresses and watched the waves of pleasure wash over her face. Again and again he teased her tight opening with the engorged head of his cock, before pressing down and grinding his pubic bone in slow circles against her clit as she moaned and writhed and trembled under him.
He had her on the edge of heaven … he could see it in her eyes, hear it in her heartbeat and her cries … feel it in her core, and he wanted nothing more than to send her flying across that blue sky … dancing in the clouds.
Cum for me, Avengelyne … don’t think … just be, Spike begged her through the bond as he raised back up to his hands over her and slammed into her with power and passion William could only imagine.
“Oh, fuck! Yes, Spike!” Buffy exclaimed at the sudden change as her body exploded and those small waves that had been washing over her turned into a tsunami while the tingling in her core turned to explosions that propelled her over the edge into heaven. Buffy’s whole body tensed and a soul-piercing scream escaped her throat as her soul soared like that angel she had pretended to be; up past the moon, past the sun, and into the Milky Way. She danced among the stars as if she were a celestial being … as if she belonged there … and Spike would’ve argued that she did … she was his angel, his goddess and she, above all else, belonged in the heavens.
Buffy’s pussy clenched Spike’s rod tightly, pulling him in deeper with each thrust he made against her until he could no longer fight the waves that were overwhelming him. Spike let go as Buffy’s scream of release surrounded him … drowning him in its power and opulence and he joined her high above the earth. The lovers soared through the galaxy, hand in hand they spun and twirled and flew with wild abandon as their bodies found the nirvana they’d been seeking in each other’s arms. They didn’t think … they just let themselves be what they both were at their core … primal, feral … human.
Buffy gasped for breath and Spike rained soft kisses over her face as they came back down from the heavens. His golden angel began laughing as Spike’s lips tickled her flushed skin with his butterfly kisses. Spike pulled back to look at her … she was exquisite, radiant … effulgent.
“Stay with me…” he whispered as he gazed wondrously into her eyes, feeling more like William at that moment than Spike.
Buffy smiled softly and touched his beautiful face lightly with her palm as William’s eyes beamed joyously with the delight of finding true love. “Always…” she agreed, lifting her lips to his.
The soft, golden light that surrounded them pulsed and sparkled brighter as the old memories were set adrift and elation replaced the regret and sorrow of that long ago night in the Common.
Stay With Me, Danity Kane
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