"Last night I dreamed I was you."

Spike looked up from the morning newspaper and gave her a look. Buffy grinned back and wiped her hands on a tea-towel while the sink drained of soapy water.

"That must have been interesting." His expression said anything but, and she flicked the towel in his direction.

"You've led a very interesting life."

"I was an evil demon for one hundred and thirty odd years. All I really did was kill, eat, fuck, sleep, kill."

She rolled her eyes and perched on the edge of the kitchen table.

"Are you my breakfast?" He shot her a wolfish grin that sent a tingle from her head to her toes.

"Wanna eat me?" she teased, letting one foot drop into his lap. He nearly choked on his coffee.

"I have to be at a meeting in..." He glanced at his watch. "Less than an hour."

The teasing turned to a pout. "I think he does this on purpose, schedules meetings way too early in the morning."

"Hurts him more than it hurts me, luv. He's the creature of the night, after all." Gently he picked up her bare foot and began to massage it. "I love your feet."

"You love all of me."

"Yeah." He leaned up and she leaned down and their lips met in a brief, tender kiss, that quickly turned passionate. Somehow Buffy managed to maneuver her way onto his lap without knocking them over or spilling anything on the table. Wrapping her arms and legs around him, she kissed him hungrily, tongues fighting, teeth nipping.

"Fuck the meeting," Spike growled, his hands exploring the familiar territory of her back, and finding the zipper of her top.

"That's the attitude," she crooned.

An hour or so later they lay curled beneath the kitchen table, their clothes a haphazard bed beneath them on not-so-soft linoleum. Spike rolled onto his back, wincing and groaning.

"This being human stuff is for the birds. I used to sleep on a stone crypt..."

"Complaining will get you...well, it might get you a really soft bed. And I used to sleep on that stupid crypt, too. It's a miracle I don't have it etched into my back."

"Or your front." He grinned at her and she rolled to her side and smacked him lightly on the chest. He caught her hand and pulled it to his lips to place a soft kiss on her palm which had her melting inside. "Next apartment, wall to wall plush carpeting in every room."

"Rug burn," Buffy reminded him, sighing as he sucked her baby finger into his mouth.

Spike thought about that for a moment. "I can live with that."

The ringing of the phone interrupted the beginnings of another bout of lovemaking, and they both scowled at it sitting on the desk tucked into a corner of the kitchen.

"Three guesses?"

"And the first two don't count," she finished the saying with a sigh as she reluctantly climbed to her feet and padded naked over to the phone. "Hello?...Hi, Angel...Yes, he's here...He's running late...Oh come on, he hardly got any sleep last night." A smirk crossed her face. "Because he was out hunting that Gelkor demon with Wesley and Gunn, of course."

Spike wagged a finger at her and made tsking noises. The hunt had taken all of thirty minutes and all three men had returned to their loved ones with the agreement not to tell their nocturnal boss they were quitting early.

He watched his wife roll her eyes in that dramatic way she did--it was only annoying when I was aimed at him.

"Yes, he's on his way. Goodbye, Angel." Buffy hung up. "Was he this possessive of your time back in the day?"

Spike snorted and sat up, reaching for his clothes and deciding to forego a shower. He liked to leave the scent of her on him. Anything to annoy the old man. "Hell, yes. He used to dictate everything on a schedule. If I'd had to shit back then, that would have been scheduled and timed, too. He's actually more relaxed now. That demon of his is damn obsessive."

She frowned and caught the top and skirt he threw her way. "Tell me about it. No, wait, I lived it."

Snickering, Spike fastened his jeans and slid his t-shirt over his head. "Obsessing about making you miserable kept him from doing something really stupid, like destroying the world. Oh, right, he tried that one, too. Let's make sure we keep him miserable so his soul stays put," he finished cheerfully as she sat down to put on his shoes.

Dressed again, Buffy went to pour herself a fresh cup of lukewarm coffee. She took a sip, then grimaced and dumped the remains in the sink. "You do that, honey. I actually like him, remember?"

Spike scowled. "All too well."

She thought about teasing him, then softened and sat down next to him, cupping his cheek in one of her gentle hands. "I married you."

He nodded and they kissed again. "I have to go. He'll have my nuts for lunch if I don't."

Buffy nodded regretfully. "I probably should head over to the Academy for my lessons. There's always one or two eager beavers wanting some extra training."

Together they walked towards the door of their apartment, each one reaching for keys, Buffy her purse and a pair of shoes that were sitting on the stairs. She bent to slip them on as he slipped on a leather jacket.

"Oh, hey, you never told me about your dream. What were you doing being me?

Buffy tried not to laugh, but couldn't help it. "Actually, kind of what we just did in the kitchen." She opened the door. "Except with Angel." And skipped away with a laugh as he turned bright red in the face behind her. "Love you!"

"Gah...Um...Love you, too," was his choked reply as he locked the door behind him and watched his wife's delectable bottom flounce away.

 

The End

 

<< back