Sweet Truths


Written by: Spikelicious


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Summary: Buffy, Spike and chocolate. Nuff said.
Spoiler: set after 'Wrecked'.
Dedication: I blame Saber and Nauti. Oh, and Vic. And Deli. And Toga. Meredith. Rabid. Pandora. Hell, I'll even blame Barb just for being herself . To all you lovely ladies who inspire me to write smut, thanks. Keeps a body healthy.
Disclaimer: The show Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all of it's characters belong to Joss, Mutant Enemy, 20th Century Fox, et al.
Feedback: Have at it, kiddies. Wait, no kiddies, this is NC-17!!! spikelicious2001@yahoo.com


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Buffy peered into the small saucepan and frowned.

"Still lumpy. Are you sure we're doing this right?"

Dawn pulled the cookbook over to her and read the recipe again, propping her purple cast up on the counter.

"Yup. It says, 'heat on warm until completely melted'."

Buffy poked a lump of chocolate, still solid.

"Well, it's not getting very melty. Maybe we can turn the heat up?"

Dawn shook her head. "No, it'll burn and be all gross. Just leave it alone."

Buffy sighed and moved down the counter to the large strainer full of jumbo California strawberries. Dawn got up and intercepted her, smacking Buffy's outstretched hand away from the juicy, long-stemmed fruits.

"Leave those alone, too."

The phone rang and Dawn bounded away, shouting "I'll get it!"

Buffy sighed. "Who are you yelling to, Dawn?"

Willow had gone to stay at her mother's house, telling her parents that she was exhausted from school and needed to rejuvenate in a familiar, comfortable environment. Mrs. Rosenberg had replied, "That's fine, dear" and promptly left on a business trip with Mr. Rosenberg. Willow had phoned to let Buffy know that she was safe and where she could be reached, and they had hung up. Small talk was a thing of the past between them, apparently. In the week since the car accident, Willow had barely emerged from her room, and then last night she had left for an indefinite amount of time, taking most of her clothes with her.

Dawn came back in, holding the portable phone against her shoulder with her good hand. Buffy rolled her eyes; Dawn had her 'I'm about to ask you something and you can't say no' look on.

"What is it?" Buffy asked lightly, stirring the chocolate again. It was finally starting to melt.

"It's Tara, and she wants to take me to see Harry Potter. Please can I go?" Dawn pleaded, biting her lip. She loved Buffy, but Tara made her feel special and needed in a way that she hadn't since...well, since her mom had died.

Buffy waved her hand at the strawberries and saucepan. "What about Buffy and Dawn Fondue Night?"

Dawn shrugged. "Well, you probably woulda left for patrol soon anyway, right? I SO want to see this movie, and you said you didn't want to sit through it..."

It was easy to give in; after all, Dawn was going out with Tara, and Buffy really didn't want to sit through a three-hour movie about magic. She had enough of that in her own life, thank you.

"Okay. If I'm not home when you get back, can Tara stay with you?"

Dawn brought the receiver back to her ear and relayed the question to Tara, then listened with a growing smile to the older girl's response.

"Oh, Tara says to ask if I can just stay over tonight at her apartment? That way she can cook breakfast for me in the morning?"

Dawn was fairly jumping up and down, and Buffy smiled. "Okay, just make sure you get back here in time to finish your homework tomorrow afternoon. I don't want you going in to school on Monday and doing four classes' worth of homework during homeroom."

Dawn's eyes widened, and Buffy chuckled. "What, you forget I was in high school not so long ago?"

Dawn told Tara she could stay over and hung up the phone, then ran upstairs to pack an overnight bag.

Buffy turned to the chocolate and stirred it half-heartedly.

"Looks like it's just you and me tonight."

Dawn came in with her bag and hugged Buffy, then headed for the back door.

"I'm gonna meet Tara at the movie theatre, since the movie starts while it's still light out," Dawn informed her, knowing Buffy would be worried about vampires and other oogely-boogelies.

"Okay. Have fun, Dawnie," Buffy nodded, tugging a strand of her sister's hair before leaning over and kissing her cheek. "Tell Tara I said 'hi', and thanks."

With a nod, Dawn was gone. Buffy glanced at the saucepan; it was only on warm, and should be okay for awhile. 'Might as well take advantage of Dawn being gone to take a nice, long bath,' Buffy decided, locking the door and retreating upstairs.

As she came to the closed door of her room, she recoiled from the stench of garlic that still hung heavily in the air.

"Great idea, that one," the Slayer grumbled as she dashed in to grab her robe, pajamas and slippers before shutting the door firmly behind her. She had taken the garlic down the morning after she'd put it up, realizing what a stupid, smelly idea it had been. She'd been bunking with Dawn ever since, and the odor still didn't show signs of dissapating, even with the windows open and several cans of Lysol emptied into the room.

In the bathroom, Buffy turned the water on and adjusted it to as hot as she could stand, then undressed, piling her clothes on the floor. She added some bubbles almost as an afterthought, watching as the liquid swirled thickly down to the bottom of the tub. She sighed, then agitated it with her hands and then got in, her small stature allowing her to stretch out almost completely. When the tub was full she sat up to shut the water off then laid back again, making rippled in the water with her cupped hands.

With an appreciative purr, she allowed her head to fall back against the tile and closed her eyes.

"Little bit of Heaven," she muttered without thinking.

* * * * *

Spike stood on the back porch, debating on whether he should bother knocking. He had played the Slayer's game, staying away from her and the Magic Box, for the past week. But it was not in his nature to sit back and let things take their course; especially when Buffy had not only given him a crumb, but the whole damned cake and icing besides.

He decided to just go in, and found that the door was locked. With a smirk, he pulled out the spare key Dawn had given him for emergencies and used it to let himself in. He pocketed the key and locked the door again behind him, then sauntered into the living room, noting the strawberries and melted chocolate warming on the stove as he passed by.

In the living room, he was about to call out for Buffy when he heard running water. As he climbed the steps, he heard it stop and then Buffy's voice saying something about Heaven. With a sad sigh, he stopped in front of the bathroom door, weighing his options.

On the one hand, that was the Slayer on the other side of the door, and she had made it plain that she wanted nothing to do with him. Even in the bathroom, the girl probably had a stake readily available. Also, the towel bar was made of wood, he remembered with a frown.

On the other hand, though, that was a *naked* Slayer on the other side of the door. *His* Slayer, whether she wanted to admit it or not. His mind started imagining the things she might do in the bath, all naked and glistening, and he decided that he'd take his chances against the towel bar.

Pushing the door open, he took in the sight of Buffy stretched out in the bath for the split second before she sat up, glaring furiously at him.

"Spike! How dare you--" she sputtered, knowing that question was rhetorical.

Spike had the widest, goofiest grin plastered on his face, and Buffy's first thought was how cute he looked. Her second thought was the realization that his reaction was not to her justifiable ire, but to the fact that she'd sat up and forgotten to cover her breasts, instead grabbing hold of the side of the tub.

"Slayer, let's say we not waste a perfectly good naked body," he suggested, shrugging off his duster quickly and throwing it out onto the hall floor.

Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and pinned him with a gaze that would have sent lesser men--and vampires--running.

"Get. Out. Now."

"Now, luv, I-"

"I'm not your 'luv' and get the hell out before I stake you."

Spike glanced around the bathroom, his eyes settling on the towel bar for the briefest of seconds before he faced her again.

"Now, Buffy. You know that this is all nonsense. You know you want me, and I want you. Why fight it?"

Buffy snorted. "Those your *rocks* talking?"

Spike cocked his head and studied her for a moment. "You know, pet. For someone who doesn't care what I think, you throw my words back at me an awful lot."

Buffy squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze, a vague feeling of unease settling in her stomach as her brain processed his words.

'Oh, for the love of god,' Buffy thought angrily, 'why does he always have to be right?'

"Spike, let me get dressed and we can talk downstairs." She offered instead, hoping he'd just let her get dressed. She felt vulnerable enough around him without being physically naked, too.

Spike regarded her seriously for another few seconds before nodding once and turning to leave. As he shut the door behind him, he said softly, "I hope you're really ready to talk, Buffy."

Buffy slumped back against the wall of the tub. She hadn't wanted to talk at all. She didn't want to examine all these ugly, conflicting emotions that swirled around her heart like condensed fog. She wanted chocolate and strawberries and the Classic Movie Channel.

Toeing the drain open, she got up and shook off as she stepped out of the tub onto the bath mat, then grabbed a towel and began drying herself off. Deciding not to blow dry her hair, she toweled it dry and ran a comb through it, then put her pajamas on. Pulling her terry robe on over them, she stepped into her fuzzy bear slippers and reluctantly went downstairs.

Spike looked up as Buffy came downstairs slowly, as if she wanted to prolong the journey. When she glanced over at him, he smiled. Her damp hair formed dark blond ringlets around her face, which was devoid of makeup. Her skin was fresh and clean, and smelled like bubble bath. Her rubber ducky pajamas and fuzzy bear slippers completed the picture, and Spike chuckled, even while admitting to himself that she'd never looked more human, or more beautiful.

Buffy cast him a dark look. "What, did you think I'd put on some lacy lingerie for you?"

Spike perked up. "You have some? I'll wait," he gestured as if she should run back upstairs.

Scowling, she shuffled past him into the kitchen.

Of course, he followed her. "Making yourself a snack, pet?" He gestured to the chocolate, which had remained just warm enough to keep from resolidifying.

Ignoring the question, Buffy grabbed a strawberry and dipped it into the chocolate. Bringing it slowly up to her mouth, Buffy took the chocolate-covered strawberry into her mouth. Her lips closed around the base of the fruit, and her cheeks hollowed slightly as she swallowed the chocolate.

Spike swallowed in response, his mind going blank as his entire consciousness became focused onto the sight of his Slayer's mouth around one very lucky strawberry.

As she bit into the fruit, severing the fleshy part from the stem, Spike became instantly hard.

With a groan, Spike managed, "Gonna share, luv?"

With a shrug, Buffy tossed the stem into the sink. She hadn't even glanced over at the aroused vampire, and didn't notice his slack jaw and glassy eyes. She pulled another berry from the strainer and dabbed it into the chocolate, then rolled it around to cover it completely.

Bringing it to her mouth, her tongue darted out to lick the tip of the strawberry.

"Buffy..." Spike ground out, wondering if she even realized the game she was playing.

"What?" She shot him an irritated glance. Okay, so she didn't realize that he was as turned-on as a sixteen-year old school boy during a heavy petting session.

She popped the berry into her mouth and then dipped another, holding it out for him.

With a trembling hand, he reached out and took it, letting his fingers linger on hers for the briefest of moments before he pulled away.

'Two can play this game,' Spike thought as he watched her begin to turn away.

"Mmmm, these are great, pet," he said to bring her attention back to him. She turned to face him and he mirrored her earlier move, licking the chocolate off the end of the strawberry. Holding the red fruit up above his mouth by the stem, he tipped his head back and made another swipe, flattening his tongue against the cool skin of the berry and dragging it along to the tip, removing every bit of chocolate in one lick.

Buffy swallowed as her skin seemed to tighten and warmth began pooling at her core. His tongue was now swirling around the pointed tip of the strawberry, and she remembered when he had done the same to her nipples. Had it only been a week ago?

As Spike caught the scent of Buffy's arousal, he couldn't keep a small grin from emerging. Turning away so she wouldn't see his triumphant statement, he ate the strawberry and turned back just as he was licking the red juice off his fingers.

With a shudder, Buffy's tongue darted out to moister her lips. He'd licked her fingers like that, too. In fact, if memory served, he had licked her whole body like that.

"Spike..." She uttered his name without thinking, her voice husky and heavy with arousal.

"Buffy." Spike acknowledged, wanting her to make the first move. Sooner or later, she'd figure out that she had made *all* the first moves, and maybe she'd let him take the lead. Until then, he was willing to let her be in charge.

Buffy's rational mind began screaming at her to throw the vampire out and take hold of her senses, while the rest of her proceeded to thoroughly kick rational thought's ass.

"Spike." She repeated, moving in closer and letting her gaze drop to his crotch. 'If he isn't as turned on as I am, then...' she let the thought trail off, noting that he was so hard that she was actually surprised his jeans didn't pop open at the fly.

Her hand reached out of its own accord and she cupped his crotch, briefly squeezing before dragging her fingers up onto his stomach then around his waist to pull him against her.

Spike decided that she'd made enough of the first move and wrapped his arms around her as he kissed her. Softly and firmly, his lips explored hers, then moved on to her cheeks and neck. When he placed a gentle kiss over the faded scars on her neck and then moved on any lingering resistance fled and she gave herself over to him completely.

He changed their position so that he was leaning against counter with her between his legs, their crotches grinding together as they kissed and groped and fondled each other. Unbuttoning her pajama shirt, he pushed it along with her bathrobe off her shoulders so that both articles of clothing fell to the floor.

"Oh, Buffy..." Spike whispered into her velvety skin, nipping his way across her collarbone then dipping lower and catching one pert, rosy nipple in his blunt teeth.

"Spike!" Buffy arched into him, letting the pleasure wash over her as her hand drifted to his waistband.

As her hands fumbled with the buttons of his jeans, Spike turned his head and noticed the saucepan on the stove. As an idea formed, he grinned wickedly and leaned over, dipping one finger into the thick liquid, testing the temperature.

Turning back to Buffy, he stilled her hands and pulled back slightly.

"Wanna play, luv?"

Buffy blinked. "I thought we were playing. And I was enjoying the playing. Why'dja stop?"

Bringing his chocolate-covered finger to her lips, he chuckled as she automatically opened her mouth to take it in. His laughter died as she sucked on his finger, swirling her tongue around the tip before taking his finger in to the knuckle then drawing back slowly.

With a ragged breath borne not of necessity but habit, he pulled back and dipped the finger again. This time, he brought it to her breast, covering her nipples with the fondue.

Buffy hissed, although not in pain; the heat of the chocolate and the coolness of his skin against her made for an incredible sensation. Her panties--already damp--became considerably wetter, and she wasn't sure how long she could let Spike continue his game. She was willing to try, though.

She pulled away and grabbed the saucepan before Spike could protest.

"Living room," she ordered, then turned and walked into the next room, kicking off her slippers and dropping her pajama bottoms before kneeling by the coffee table. She set the saucepan on it and waited.

Spike followed, shedding his clothes as he walked until he stood before her completely naked. His erection was nearly flat against his stomach, and the tip bobbed enticingly in front of her face.

With a wicked grin, Buffy scooped some of the chocolate out and smeared it onto Spike's cock. He jerked and groaned at the contact, then shuddered as she leaned forward to lick some of the confection off.

He placed his hands on her shoulders as she went about her task with an admirable single-mindedness, licking and sucking until every bit of chocolate was gone and Spike was almost ready to come.

Pushing her head away with trembling hands, Spike knelt in front of Buffy and whispered, "My turn."

He guided Buffy back so that she was lying on her back in front of him, spread-eagle and eagerly awaiting his ministrations.

Taking the saucepan, he tipped it just enough so that chocolate drizzled out onto Buffy's stomach. As she gasped, he set about his work, concetrating on dripping the chocolate onto his lover and not his lover's floor. He knew she couldn't afford to replace the carpeting, and he didn't want to give her an excuse not to try something like this again.

When he was finished, he set the saucepan back down onto the coffee table and leaned back on his heels to examine his handiwork. He'd covered most of Buffy's torso in a brown, sticky trail of chocolate.

With a giggle, Buffy flicked one nipple with her fingertip, then lapped the chocolate away.

"Right, then. I'll not have you eating my dessert," Spike shook his head in disapproval.

"I just hope you're still hungry after this," she indicated her torso, "'cause I'm thinking I have something else to offer you."

With a growl, Spike bent and proceeded to lick every chocolate-covered inch of her, and by the time he was finished Buffy was mewling and writhing with pleasure. With a smirk, Spike moved back and dropped his head between her thighs, dipping his tongue into her hot, wet folds and then dragging his tongue up to her clit. He paused, his mouth hovering just above her glistening curls.

"Gah! Oh, Spike..." Buffy bucked her hips, not satisfied with the single stroke.

"Say it, pet." Spike wanted her to ask for it, just once. Then he'd give her the tongue-lashing of her life--which probably wasn't saying much, considering her past lovers, he mused.

"What?" Buffy gasped, her head thrown back and her fists bunching in the nap of the carpet.

"Say it." As incentive, he licked her clit again, then nipped it lightly.

"Oh, god...Spike."

Enjoying himself thoroughly, Spike pulled back again, taking a second to adjust his painful erection. Giving the head a squeeze, as if assuring himself that he'd be buried to the hilt in Buffy's quim before too long, he looked up at his lover.

"Saaaaay it," he repeated in a singsong voice, knowing she couldn't hold out much longer.

"Spike, I--" He bent down and began swirling the tip of his tongue around her sensitive nub then gave in and applied steady pressure, sensing that she almost mindless with need and ready to...

"Love you!" She gasped as she came, and Spike froze in shock even as Buffy rode her orgasm through wave after wave of ecstacy.

After she'd calmed down, she stilled completely as the realization of what she'd said hit her. Turning slowly to face Spike, she found the vampire sitting next to her staring at her with disbelief and mounting hope written plainly on his face.

Swallowing the fear that threatened to overwhelm her if she gave it a chance, she reminded rational thought about the previous ass-kicking and sat up.

"Spike. I--"

Shaking his head, Spike schooled his face into an unreadable statement and waved her explanation away.

"Nevermind, pet, s'just the heat of the moment and all." His insides quaked with the thought that she had been speaking the truth, but he'd be damned twice before he'd beg her to say it again and be faced with her denial.

Buffy captured Spike's hand and brought it to her lips, placing a feather-light kiss along his knuckles. Unable to conceal his surprise at such a tender gesture, Spike's facade wavered.

Sensing that Spike was in turmoil over her ecstacy-induced exclamation, Buffy stood and pulled Spike up with her.

"Spike. No more games tonight. No more playing, no more chocolate. No more words. Let's just have tonight, and tomorrow we'll deal with everything else."

The vampire studied her carefully, searching the face he knew so well for any signs of anger or sadness. Instead, he found resignation and understanding. With a nod, he scooped Buffy up into his arms and took her upstairs, intending to take her into her room and lay her on the bed.

He stopped and sniffed the air, then recoiled away from her closed bedroom door.

"What the fuck, Buffy?"

Buffy sighed. "It's a long story. Basically I was trying to keep you out after the other night."

Spike quirked one eyebrow at her as he nudged Willow's door open with his shoulder.

"You mean you were trying to keep yourself in," he corrected her matter-of-factly.

"Probably." Buffy admitted, wondering briefly whether they should be in here. 'It's your house,' rational thought reminded her before quickly retreating.

Spike laid her down on the bed. "Buffy. What we did last week was incredible. It earth-shattering-"

"House shattering," Buffy interjected with a giggle.

"Yeah, and it was the most memorable night of my life. It was our first time. And second, and third..."

"Point?"

"It was great, and we connected on some deep, primal level. But tonight, I want to make love to you."

Buffy stared up at the vampire, reading his soul just by looking into his eyes. Rational thought popped up one final time to remind her that he had no soul, and she squashed it with the simplest mental action: she accepted his love. She accepted that she returned his love, even if she wasn't ready to bring it out into the light and examine it. Rational thought bowed its head in retreat and left for night.

"Then make love to me, Spike." Buffy said softly, lying back on the bed.

As Spike's heart expanded and filled, he proceeded to just that, pouring his love into every touch and gesture, every kiss and caress. And when they were sated, they fell asleep nestled in each other's arms, matching looks of utter contentment on their sleep-softened faces.

* * * * *

The next morning, Dawn let herself into the house quietly, not wanting to wake Buffy in case she'd had a long patrol the night before. Passing through the living room to get to the kitchen for a drink, Dawn stopped and stared at the coffee table in confusion. "What the heck is this doing here?"

Lifting the saucepan--almost empty but coated with hardened chocolate--she looked around the room. With a shrug, she turned to go into the kitchen, and here eyes widened as she took in the clothes on the floor: rubber ducky pajama bottoms, fuzzy bear slippers, black jeans, black T-shirt, black leather boots...Dawn's eyes widened as she followed the trail into the kitchen, where it ended in a pile of Buffy's pajama top and robe. She then noticed the remaining strawberries on the counter.

"Why was the chocolate in the other room with their clothes..."

Dawn's eyes widened and she chucked the saucepan into the sink.

"EWWWWWW!!!!"

* * * * *

Upstairs, Slayer and vampire woke, and Buffy gasped as the shriek penetrated her brain and made its implications clear. Spike merely smirked and pulled his lover closer.

"Dawn's home."


The End




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