::HEY LITTLE SISTER::by Spikesdeb

HEY LITTLE SISTER

“Dawn! Move your butt, it’s time to motor!”

“Buffy, please! A simple ‘Dawn are you ready’ is much more ladylike. Have you even opened that book on etiquette I gave you?”

“Read it, didn’t understand it, don’t have time. Now move!”

Dawn descended the stairway, grumbling under her breath at being cursed with such a contrary sister. It was two weeks to her wedding, she wanted it to be perfect and Buffy was obstinately refusing to do anything she asked her. She’d even baulked at wearing the dress Dawn picked out for her as chief bridesmaid, trying to make little alterations even as the dressmaker was taking her measurements. But Dawn was also a Summers girl; she could out-bull everyone. The dress remained.

And today was the final fitting. Buffy and Dawn were meeting Dawn’s two other bridesmaids at the dressmaker’s shop and across the city the groom was having his final try on. The flowers were ordered, the cars were booked, the invitations had been sent and mostly replied to. All that remained was the hardest part; the part that Buffy refused to budge on.

Buffy took the wheel of the Fiat despite Dawn’s protestations. Dawn was seething inwardly, the tone of the morning not giving her much hope that her daily request for Buffy to be reasonable would yield a different answer. She let Buffy get comfortable before hitting her with it.

“So… Spike. Buffy, I really want him there. He’s my friend and I know you don’t want to see him but it is my wedding.”

Buffy’s eyes narrowed, her grip on the steering wheel increasing.

“I told you, Dawn. I’m not talking about this. You saw me, held me when I cried. Then he comes back and can’t even be bothered to tell me? Not a word, nothing. And then he came to Rome and still didn’t tell me.”

“He did it for you, Buffy. Again. Always for you. I’ve explained the reasons why. He just thought you wanted a normal life. Anyway, he thought you knew all about him because Andrew was living with us. It’s not like Andrew can usually keep a secret. He thinks you knew and didn’t want him.”

Dawn tried her very best imploring look, leaning forwards so that her long brown hair swept to her knees, fluttering her eyelashes in the way that used to have her mom caving and letting her have the candy. Not a flicker from her sister. With a barely concealed expletive muttered under her breath, she threw herself back into her seat crossing her arms and looking out of the window. Well, didn’t matter anyway. Spike was coming to the wedding whether Buffy liked it or not. She’d just have to deal - and if she ruined her big day she’d kill her.

Buffy darted a glance at her furious sister, relieved that she’d let the subject drop – for now. No doubt she’d try again, as she did every day. To be honest, Buffy didn’t really know why she was being so stubborn about this. After all, she’d been dating Lucius, The Immortal, for five years and from what she’d heard on the grapevine – aka surreptitiously questioning people and digging around on the internet whilst erasing all trace of her search when she was done – Spike hadn’t stayed alone and brooding. Seemed like he was having a high old time of it, tripping the light fantastic with blondes, brunettes and redheads all over the place. Not that she cared. He could do what he wanted. Why should she be bothered when she had her own supernaturally enhanced hunk of manhood to squire her around? No; she didn’t care.

Nice try Buffy. Almost convinced yourself there.

Truth be told, she was petrified of seeing Spike again, hearing his voice, smelling that unique scent of cigarettes, leather and man-musk that was like a Pavlovian trigger to her drool muscles. She hadn’t lied to Dawn. When she finally discovered that Spike had survived the Hellmouth, or been reborn from it, whatever, she experienced a range of emotions going from disbelief to anger that he hadn’t been in touch but passing through elation and relief along the way. She desperately wanted to race to his side, drag him into the nearest room and cover him with kisses. But… as always Bitch Buffy reared her head and clamped down on her instinct to be with him, fed her with nasty whispers of ‘if he really loved you, he would never have stayed away’. And that was the whisper that stayed.

Buffy parked the car across from the shop, Dawn getting out without another word to her.

“This should be fun,” Buffy mumbled as they met up with Dawn’s friends, both girls she’d met at the British school she’d enrolled at in Rome and who graduated with her the year before. Buffy didn’t really know them other than their names. She spent very little time with anybody these days, Lucius included. Over the years she’d learned to rely on herself for almost everything and with Willow and Xander too far away to visit often, friends became a luxury. Hell, she only stayed with Lucius because it would be too much of an effort to leave him. That and the platinum charge card he paid the bill for every month. Didn’t make her a ‘ho’ – it was a business arrangement really; Lucius wanted the kudos that went along with dating a Slayer and he wanted her wearing the very best that money could buy when he showed her off. Buffy liked the fact that aside from the very beginning when he tried to get her into bed, his attentions were platonic and happily left her with most of the time to herself.

Of course, the arrangement was kept between themselves. Even Dawn believed they were a ‘real couple’. It served them both; Buffy didn’t receive any unwanted attentions – as the Immortal’s girlfriend she was definitely off limits – and Lucius never had to dial-a-girl when he had an invite to a premier.

She knew he got his carnal appetites fed elsewhere and that was all to the good; no way was she ever going to be a notch on his bedpost. She’d gone off sex almost entirely, other than her bedtime solo adventures with her trusty vibrator and the mental image of…..oh, let’s just call him Mr S….shagging her halfway into next week.

Life was tolerable. So…she wasn’t worried that despite all her objections she knew that Spike would be at the wedding. Dawn wouldn’t have it any other way.

No, she wasn’t worried one tiny bit.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

Spike fingered the invitation, grubby now from his hours of deliberations, and took another pull on the bottle of JD. He had to go, owed it to the ‘Bit. He wanted to go, dammit. His girl, all grown up. And he had to have ‘the talk’ with her husband-to-be face to face, just so there was no misunderstanding about the consequences if he fucked it up and hurt her. Ever.

But……Buffy - that was an entirely different matter. His heart leapt in his chest still at the mere thought of her. What would he be like actually being in the same room with her, hearing her voice, seeing her eyes, smelling that vanilla-laced-with-woman scent that was uniquely hers? He closed his eyes, grinding his teeth in frustration.

Buggering hell; it had been over five years since he’d seen her shimmying around in the disco in Rome. Five bloody years and still he was Love’s Bitch. Knew it down to his bones and hated himself for it.

He had been right in the Hellmouth after all; she didn’t love him. Not like that. Oh, yeah, he had no doubt she cared for him. But that was as far away from the love he wanted as if she hated him. Didn’t cut it, never would.

So why the fucking hell was he still not getting laid? Wasn’t like he hadn’t tried. Hell, he must have dated every sodding girl in LA in an effort to wipe her out of his mind. But every time he got close to some touch, all he could see behind his eyelids was an expanse of golden flesh, honey-blonde hair and hazel eyes brimming with lust. Always seemed to kill the mood and he’d escort another young beauty home with a chaste kiss on the doorstep and no promise to call her again.

So, against all laws of nature Spike, sensual creature that he was, had been celibate apart from that brief insanity moment when he’d almost got it on with Harmony. He knew the palm of his hand…well…as intimately as the back of his hand. It kept him almost satisfied when he found himself alone in his apartment; his hand, a bottle of JD and thoughts of a writhing Slayer pinned beneath him in ecstasy.

Almost satisfied.

And in two weeks he’d be face to face with the object of his unwavering devotion. And she didn’t love him.

He could do it, do it for the Niblet. It would only be a 24-hour visit. He could rein his emotions tight inside for 24 hours. Treat her politely, shake her hand. Hell, he could probably even shake the hand of that slimy pillock she was shagging. Well, maybe not. Best not tempt fate.

He picked up the telephone and made a reservation on a night flight to Rome.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The day was finally here. Giles had jetted in the day before, as had Xander and his new woman – a dusky beauty named Sharelle who he’d met and fallen in love with in Africa. Willow had arrived half an hour ago – without Kennedy much to everyone’s relief - and she promised to tell the tale of the breakup after the reception. Buffy was up and making breakfast and chatting to Sharelle and Willow while the boys were over at the groom’s house making sure he was all suited up and on time. Dawn had yet to put in an appearance.

Buffy was anxiously flitting between the coffee machine and the pancakes she was making for Dawn, a last stab at the home life she’d always wanted for her sister but never quite managed. Willow eyed the smoke billowing from the fry pan, not wanting to interfere but fighting against her instinct to take over before it was all charred and inedible.

“Erm…Buffy….pancakes?”

“What? Oh, crap!”

She raced to the pan and dragged it off the heat, chiseling the charcoal remains off the bottom. Ah well, at least it was what Dawn was used to. She’d make cereal instead.

Talking of, it was time Dawn was up and about. The ceremony would take place in the evening but there was much to do before then and they had to travel to the venue. That would take an hour or so. Buffy went to the bottom of the stairs, as she did every morning, and shouted her sister.

“Dawn! Are you about ready to eat? I’ve made…cereal.”

Dawn rounded the top step, still in her pajamas and rubbing her eyes. She was not a morning person.

“I’m up. Who’s here, in the kitchen?”

Dawn’s descent speeded up; Buffy knew who she was hoping to see. A little bit of her was hoping to see him too…

“Willow just got in and Sharelle’s here. Xander’s gone with Giles to get your intended all spruced up and delivered. And there’s me… cooking and all. Well, I tried anyway. Cereal’s next to the milk. Help yourself.”

Dawn smiled at her shorter sister. This was the last time she’d come down the stairs to find a Buffy kitchen disaster. Suddenly, her eyes filled with tears and she enveloped Buffy in a crushing hug. The sisters embraced, both choked as the chatter went on in the kitchen.

“Dawnie? Are you up? Come in here, it’s been ages since I saw you!” Willow got to her feet waiting in anticipation. She really had missed seeing Dawn, even hearing her whine. She’d missed a lot whilst she’d been in London with the new Watchers’ Council, although the main reason she’d kept away was to stop Kennedy’s endless bitching about her absences. Still, that was a thing of the past. Should have been put to rest a long time ago.

“Willow! Look at your hair! All layered and everything – it really suits you!” The two friends hugged, Willow on tiptoe.

“Jeez, Dawn. You must be seventeen feet tall!”

Dawn chuckled. “Yeah, well. I think I got Buffy’s height gene. Good thing my boy’s a giant too.”

The banter continued, the girls relaxing in each other’s company before taking turns to shower and pack their overnight bags. Dawn’s luggage other than her immediate clothing and toiletries had already been packed, her wedding dress hanging in her bedroom in all its protective packaging. Eventually, by noon they were all ready to go. Lucius called to collect them in one of his many limousines and they headed out.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Dawn stood in the middle of the room, her body sheathed in a simple satin gown with no sleeves, the back cut slightly on a bias and longer so that it pooled on the floor. Her hair was curled and caught up with tiny white rosebuds here and there for a tousled carefree look, a plain veil pinned to the back of her head to sweep down covering the laced bodice. She looked amazing and Buffy told her so.

“Really? You don’t think it’s too tight do you? I can hardly breathe! Do you think he’ll like it?”

For a moment, Buffy wondered if she meant…but no, she meant her fiancé.

“He’ll love it, Dawn. He loves you. Mom would have been so proud.”

Both girls wiped away a tear. They still missed her. Always would.

“I talked to dad. He sent a check. Not sure I’m gonna cash it.”

Buffy understood. Hank Summers was no longer part of their lives. She was glad. Didn’t think she could deal with him turning up and wanting to play an active role, as if he ever had. There was a knock on the door. Must be time.

“You ready, Dawnie?”

Dawn took a deep breath, a final look in the mirror while she smoothed her veil. She nodded.

“Yes. I’m ready. Can’t wait.”

“Come in.”

“Ah, Buffy, Dawn… dear lord! Dawn! You look…… amazing.” Giles gently wrapped her in a hug, kissed her cheek. He had swelled with pride when Dawn had rung to ask him to give her away. He’d known her all of her life and it felt right that he was the one to do this. Suavely, he offered her his arm patting the hand that threaded through to rest on his wrist.

The two bridesmaids who’d entered with him took up their position behind Buffy and the entourage moved out and into the main hall.

+++++++

She could feel him the minute the doors opened. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. Her heart was racing in her chest, her legs trembling. Get a grip, Buffy! She didn’t look anywhere but ahead as they walked down the aisle, her eyes fixed on the back of her sister’s head. Still, as they passed the row in which he sat she knew… could sense him doing everything but look at her. But suddenly she caught his scent… oh god…

Spike looked down at his feet once Dawn had moved past, knowing, feeling, that Buffy was behind her. The hairs at the nape of his neck stood up the minute the door had opened. He could sense her before she came one step into the room. And it hit him again. He loved her. Nothing had changed and there wasn’t a sodding thing he could do about it. He would love her for ever. Gritting his teeth he forced himself to calm, gripping the hand of the girl he’d taken along at the last minute as a date. What was her name…? Sara, Sonya? She leaned against him, thinking he was being romantic. He forced himself not to push her away.

It was a lovely service, Dawn’s happiness was contagious and everybody in the congregation shed a tear or two. Buffy perched nervously next to Lucius who was hamming it up like the drama queen he was and draping his arm across her shoulders in a possessive way that made her skin itch. A few twitterers were quick to ask when they would be tying the knot and that damn fool Immortal was almost promising them a winter wedding. ‘Over my really, really real dead body’ - but she smiled, played the game.

She risked a glance back to Spike’s row under the pretext of shaking her hair. He wasn’t looking; but she knew he knew. He turned to the black haired girl besides him and placed a kiss on her reddened lips, brushing her hair out of her eyes in a gesture Buffy remembered. Her stomach clenched and she was hard pressed to keep hold of her lunch.

God he was maddening! Pawing her in front of everybody! Did he have no respect?

Spike watched Buffy turn away out of the corner of his eye. He immediately thrust the girl away from him, pretending to cough as an excuse. He didn’t know why he’d suddenly seized her when he felt Buffy’s eyes on him. Maybe it was to get his own back, prove to her that he was as over her as she clearly was over him - what with The Immortal all but groping her where she sat.

When the bride and groom walked back down the aisle and out to the reception room, the two enemies turned lovers turned whatever they now were heaved a sigh of relief and fled the marriage hall by separate exits.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The meal was over, Buffy having managed a few bites without spluttering them all over the irritating face of Lucius who was giving it all he could in the considerate boyfriend stakes. If he’d gone to wipe her mouth with a napkin one more time she would have ripped his head off, she swore. And to cap it all, she could see Spike two tables away spooning food lovingly into his companion’s mouth and giggling with her.

And she was nothing to look at either. He must be desperate.

Some little voice inside her told her that she was being not only unfair but downright vicious. She told it to piss off and go taunt somebody else. When the lights dimmed and the music started she was nearly sick with relief. At least now, even though she could still feel him, still smell him, she wouldn’t have to watch him macking with that total……hey, hadn’t she been here before, at a different wedding? But he wouldn’t have……no. At the other wedding he did it to make her jealous because he still loved her. Now he was just indifferent. Bastard.

Thank god! Spike had worried that the lights were never going to go down and he’d be stuck watching Buffy and The Immortal smooch until he passed out from the cloying overload of loved-upness. He really was being punished for his past; maybe this was why the Powers That Be brought him back, so that he could suffer like this for all eternity. He’d even started feeding the bint he was with, desperate to get Buffy to at least notice him. But she hadn’t turned a hair. Bitch.

“Spike! Come on now, you promised.”

What was that? Dawn appeared to be beckoning to him from the stage, her new husband gazing at her in adoration. All eyes turned to look at him. Even hazel ones.

“Spike!” Dawn beckoned to him again. He met the hazel eyes, his own blue orbs stormy with the maelstrom of emotions running through him. If looks could stake……

To a round of applause he shrugged off the clinging hands of his date and made his way up the centre of the room. Buffy gasped, hiding it with a cough when Lucius turned to look at her. God, the way he walked – sure of himself, his bearing noble and confident. His arms swung slightly with every forward step and he wore his familiar leather, shorter than his old duster but enough to flare out behind him as he strode out. His hair was longer than she remembered; more curled, less fixed but was still that blinding platinum blond that she saw every night behind her closed lids. She swallowed the wine that Lucius had handed to her, gulping it down to stem the rising panic that being so close to Spike had started. His cheekbones stood out in the shadowed light of the hall and more than one woman longed to run their fingers over that perfection.

Asshole! Look at him, swaggering. You’d think he was god’s gift…

Her mind went back to that time, after their first night when the house had literally fallen down about them. She’d asked him who he thought he was, god’s gift? He’d chuckled, a deep throaty noise that resonated in her groin; ‘Hardly’ he’d replied ‘wouldn’t be half as interesting…’ He was right; it wouldn’t be.

She yanked her mind back from lustful memories just as he took his place on the stage and the spotlight hit him. He muttered something to Dawn and she heard her squeal “but you did promise.” He smiled then, that special smile he reserved for his girls and stroked her cheek gently. “Yeah, that I did Niblet.”

What on earth was going on here? What did he promise?

The music started with a beat she didn’t recognise. Obviously some people did as there was a rustle of noise and a shiver of anticipation. Lucius was trying to smile benignly at this folly and only succeeded in looking like a constipated camel.

And then Spike started singing…..

Hey little sister what have you done
Hey little sister who's the only one
Hey little sister who's your superman
Hey little sister who's the one you want
Hey little sister shot gun!

Buffy must have stopped breathing because she suddenly spluttered and gasped for breath, Lucius patting her on her back. Spike’s eyes unerringly caught hers as he continued, his velvet voice clutching at her heart and gripping it mercilessly despite everything she did.

It's a nice day to start again
It's a nice day for a white wedding
It's a nice day to start again.

She stared at him, open mouthed. Was he singing to her? Was this meant to be for her? The bloody fucking insensitive bastard! Five years! Five years without so much as a ‘hello Buffy, how’ve you been’ and he was singing to her about starting again? That was it!

She kicked back her chair, knocking it over to land with a clatter. Spike tried to sing on but all eyes were now on the petite blonde stalking towards the stage with murder in her eyes. Xander leaned across the table to Willow, smiling despite the fact that he’d made peace with Spike over the years. “He’s for it now! I’ve seen that look before.” Willow nodded, concerned that Buffy was indeed about to slay herself a vampire in full view of all the guests.

The music continued but Spike stopped singing, his hand still wrapped around the mike. The spotlight caught her as she moved to stand inches from him, chest heaving in an effort to control herself. And still, her traitorous body cried out to his as she leaned unconsciously towards him.

Her hissed words carried around the room, caught by the microphone and amplified through speakers.

“Spike. Outside. Now!”

Everybody stopped what they were doing watching the entertainment suddenly on offer. Dawn worried her bottom lip. She knew Buffy would react to Spike singing, but she hadn’t figured her about to stake him. In her daydream he’d sing, she’d swoon, they’d all live happily ever after. Forgot to figure in the Buffy Bitch tendency, obviously. Her new husband laid his hand on her arm; he’d been privy to the plan from the beginning encouraging Dawn to go for it. She leaned back against him. “Wait” he whispered.

Spike found himself at a loss. Buffy. Standing in front of him. Here. Pissed off. But very here. With the eyes; and the aroma. And possibly the stake…

Shaking at her nearness, he nodded, turned on his heels and strode off the side of the stage. Buffy followed leaving silence in the room as the taped music stopped. Every single person in the room fought an urge to run out after them to watch the fun.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

Buffy ran into his back as he stopped suddenly, his broad shoulders now pressed up against her cheek. She inhaled and as predicted the drool muscles worked overtime flooding her mouth with saliva. She felt corresponding moisture pooling in her panties and quickly stepped away from him. It was too late; his back to her, Spike smirked. He could smell her. Her face might have promised pain but her body promised passion.

He turned and Buffy squeaked at his speed. “What do you want, Slayer?”

Her bottom lip started to tremble as she noted his use of her title, not her name. He hadn’t called her that since…

“What the fuck are you playing at Spike? I let Dawn ask you here because it’s her day and then you pull a stunt like this? Have you no consideration for others?”

He stared at her, genuinely puzzled. “I have no idea what’s got your goat, Slayer. The ‘Bit wanted me to sing, I sang. End of story. Can I go now? Got a friend waiting.”

“Yeah, I saw her. Bit on the scrawny side isn’t she? Bit light on looks? Still, whatever takes your fancy.”

They were standing inches apart now, spitting and snarling at each other, hands curled into fists.

“Oh, right. Like you’ve got great taste in soddin’ men, love. The Immortal? Buffy, I gave you more credit. He’s a pretty face with no brain. Thought you’d at least go for someone who could form a sentence without a prompt.”

“Like you, you mean? Dream on!”

Xander and Willow crept away from the door, stifling giggles at the thought of Buffy whupping Spike’s ass again. Like old times really. They both called for more drinks at the bar before settling back at their table to regale those not in the know about Spike and Buffy’s history of violence.

“Oh, yeah. Like I lay awake at night hoping you’ll pick me! Come on, Buffy! You couldn’t even be bothered to pick up a ‘phone when you knew I was back. No doubt too busy shagging Mr Armani in there. Didn’t take you long, did it? Did he fall for the ‘I love you’ line?”

“What? You died! You didn’t believe me and you died! And I didn’t know you were back until after you fought the dragon. And you! Why didn’t you call me? I was in pieces, nearly didn’t make it and you couldn’t even let me know you were back. Don’t you remember what I said?”

“I just told you that I did, Buffy -- but then you only ever hear what you want. Don’t mean a thing, just words. Have to actually mean it for it to matter.”

Buffy’s eyes hardened then. She flew at him, fists and feet, knocking him to the floor.

“You arrogant” punch “idiotic” punch “insensitive” punch “bastard!”

He parried her fists, catching her wrists eventually and thrusting her away from him so that he could get to his feet. He snarled, vamped out and rushed her, catching her with a glancing blow across her cheek that brought tears to her eyes.

“That’s right – let the fists do your talking!! You didn’t mean it, you bitch! Worse than cruel, you are. Come on, give me what you’ve got! I can take it, not like you haven’t battered me before. Bring it on!”

He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, beckoning her with his curled fingers, tongue poking out between his fangs as he zeroed in on her with his amber eyes. Buffy snarled at him in response, his words slow to make their way to her brain. She kicked out, her foot meeting him square in the chest but he was ready for her and grabbed her foot pushing her away and into a somersault to land on her feet again, crouched and ready to rush him.

Spike felt more alive than he had in…… well five years. He only ever felt this way with Buffy. God how he’d missed her.

Buffy noted his glazed expression like he wasn’t focused; well, that would be his downfall…wait; he hadn’t believed her?

Spike waited for the next blow. It didn’t come. He fixed his gaze on her, still crouched, eyes large and… was she crying?

“Buffy?”

He hardly caught her next words, they were so softly spoken. “You didn’t believe me?”

Then he was there, with her, fangs gone as the poet inside him melted at the look in her eyes, arms wrapped around her as he lifted her against him in a crushing embrace. Lips and tongues tangled together, Buffy bringing her legs up to lock around his waist in her eagerness to get nearer. Her heart beat loud in her chest and echoed in his.

“I couldn’t believe… God, Buffy! I’ve missed you so much, I never stopped loving you. Baby, don’t fight me!” Tears mingled as they let down the self-imposed barriers erected over the years.

“Spike! Believe me, please believe me. I meant every word…… I loved you then… I love you now, God help me. I can’t stop loving you…”

Feeling blindly behind him, he found a door and grasped the handle, the two of them stumbling through the open doorway and landing in a heap on the floor. Buffy wriggled against him, purring into his mouth as she clawed at his shirt ripping the buttons off to ping on the tiled floor.

“I need you, Spike. Haven’t had……since you…… need you so much.”

She hadn’t? Not the Immortal? Bloody hell!

He shrugged off his jacket regretting the time when he had to take his hands from her body and renewed his attempts to find the zip for the dress.

“I need you too, kitten. I haven’t…and I want you so bloody much… Buffy……where’s the fucking zip?” he gasped out around searing kisses.

“No zip…laces. No time.”

Buffy stood up, dragging Spike with her. She realised they’d been lying on the floor of the ladies’ restroom but she didn’t care. Hell, if there hadn’t been a door she’d have jumped him there and then in the corridor. Spying the sink she leaned against it, her butt up in the air, legs opened to welcome him. Spike growled as she shot him a look over her shoulder, keening his name.

He vamped again, the feelings running through him too tumultuous to control and contain the demon at the same time. He approached her slowly, savouring the fire in her eyes as she watched him near. Buffy panted, his predatory prowl zinging straight to her clit and making it ache to be touched. She reached behind her, crushing the full skirt of her purple silk dress in both hands and revealing her pale lilac underwear to his hungry eyes.

“God, Buffy!” He ran his hands up her legs, the difference between the stockings and her bare skin under his fingertips hardening him to painful stiffness. His fingers caressed her, reaching further up her leg to reach the silk enclosed mound, sodden with her juices. He whispered a touch across her slit, her sharp indrawn breath signalling her pleasure. As he continued to stroke her through the silky material he started working on his belt, then his zip. He growled in relief as his cock sprang out of its confinement, his hand stroking in its familiar way as he looked on his woman spread out before him. Only this time it wasn’t just him and his dreams…

“Spike,” Buffy whispered, begging him to touch her. She looked back at him again, straight at his vampire face, “please.”

One word. Just one. And he was as lost as he ever had been. Roughly, he ripped her thong aside and pressed the tip of his erection at her wet entrance. She pushed back slightly, burning for him, the head slipping inside her folds and sliding along to tickle her clit. Bliss. She bucked further against him and he angled his hips to enter her, thrusting in one movement to sink his entire length inside her. She was so bloody tight, so hot. He thrilled as he recalled her words… she hadn’t, not with anybody else. She was still his, always would be. She moved against him, twirling her hips in exquisite torture.

“Buffy……I can’t last, not this time……wanted you all these years……don’t move…please…”

Buffy giggled, no way was she staying still!

“Can’t, Spike. Have to have you… just do it. Then we can do it again…”

That was it. He started pounding her mercilessly against the sink, the toiletries ranged behind the basin toppling and crashing to the ground. He reached one hand round to rub at her clit, Buffy roaring her pleasure as her vision started to cloud. He crushed one breast through the constricting bodice of her dress swearing that he would get inside and at the hardened nipples the next time. He felt the build up of his orgasm, too soon, too soon.

“Buffy!” he gasped and she squeezed him with her vaginal muscles, sending him soaring over the edge to ejaculate inside her. Her scream of ecstasy stunned him into realising she was with him, as always, their rhythms matching as though meant to be.

Neither of them noticed the audience; Xander and Lucius wore looks of horror and disgust, seasoned with just a little admiration as they viewed the spectacle played out in front of them. Buffy babbled on about the length, breadth, and more stunning attributes of Spike’s cock, thrilling anew as he hardened inside her and started to move again.

Spike tore at her bodice, finally locating the laces that freed her breasts to his waiting hands and renewed his thrusts, bending her further over the sink, changing the angle of his penetration making her mewl at him. God she was glorious! He shifted her slightly so as to watch her face in the mirror, anxious to see her do that thing she did with her lip when she was near to the edge. He almost missed the voyeurs at the door……almost. Well then, better give them a good show. The Whelp would love this!

“Buffy, darlin’ need to taste you………let me taste you…”

“Wha? Anything, Spike……do it………taste me……bite me……”

Xander took a step into the room but the Immortal stayed him, with a sad shake of his head. Spike heard the whispered words “No. He is hers; she is his. It is as it should be.”

“Damn right!” he mouthed as he sank his fangs into Buffy’s neck, suckling on her sweet blood and flooding his being with so much pleasure he nearly blacked out. Buffy’s rapturous moans matched his; she was obviously getting as much from the bite as he was.

“God, Spike. Harder, faster……… both.” He got the message; his tongue lapping at her blood and his cock stretching her even further as he twisted her nipples to points of ecstasy. About to come again, he left one breast to circle her clit, rubbing the engorged nub to make her gasp. He felt the flutters of her orgasm start to build and let loose his ejaculation, his bloodied mouth leaving her neck as he roared his joy.

Spike fell against her back, licking the punctures he’d left on the side of her neck, sending a thrill through Buffy’s weary body.

“Like that, kitten?”

“Mmmm… why didn’t we ever do that before?”

“You never asked.”

“Bad Buffy. Keep your fangs ready, we’ll be going again…”

Spike did the wolf grin, tongue behind his teeth, eyes clouded with lust. That would be something for the boys to watch……

When he looked over to the door, there was nobody there.

“Oh, they left round about when you bit me.”

Buffy’s laugh echoed off the tiled walls and floated into the corridor, following The Immortal and Xander as they fled back to the normality of the crowded hall. Dawn giggled as she saw their horror-stricken faces, strained to hear what they were telling Willow and Sharelle. At Willow’s gasp, she got it. She turned to her husband, gifting him with a beaming smile.

“You were right, Connor. All we had to do was wait.”

And both Summers girls found themselves awake into the early morning hours.

Nice day to …..start again…..

CHALLENGE DETAILS : Challenge: 39 from Redwulf50

Post NFA by a few years, Spike and Dawn have regained their friendship so when Dawn is getting married she hounds the poor bleached one to attend her wedding. Buffy in the meantime is thoroughly pissed that SPIKE of all people is going to be there. She, of course, attends with that slimy Immortal git.

Must haves:

1. This is Spike and Buffy's first face to face meeting since Chosen, and both come with other people.

2. At Dawn's pleading, Spike sings White Wedding at the reception and is promptly drug off by Buffy to be dealt with.

3. As the Scoobies laugh at the supposed demise of Spike the two argue, come to blows, then start shagging like shagging is about to be outlawed.

4. Xander and Slime bucket, err the Immortal, go to find Buffy and discover her bent over the sink screaming Spike's name AND her eternal love for his manly bits.

Thanks for the idea Wulfie! Hope it answers your challenge.

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