Prologue

The fire was fantastic, a huge conflagration spitting out bits of timber and metal like a giant, deadly firework. People ran from it, screaming. There were sounds of sirens.

Spike supposed he’d better get out of there. Buffy’d be pissed off if she had to bail him out again. He grabbed his sack of booty - the reason he’d torched the place to begin with was so they’d never go looking for this stuff - and made for his bike.

And then he heard it. A child crying. “Mama, mama!”

He stopped, torn. Dammit. He’d figured everyone had got out.

You know, five years ago he’d have just gone. Just left the kid there.

Bloody Buffy. It was all her fault.

Grinding his teeth, he turned back and squinted into the fire. A small child, so small he couldn’t tell if it was a boy or girl, dirty and terrified, bawling with fear. Probably it could run out, but was too scared.

He darted in, grabbed the kid who screamed even louder at this black-clad, white-haired, sharp-boned figure, and ran out. There was no one there, so Spike kicked his motorbike into life and rode off with the kid clinging to his side, still screaming.

Bloody Buffy. He hoped she’d appreciate this.

Buffy was sitting on the floor outside the KFC at the mall, her legs stretched out, playing patty-cake with a very small child of her own. A blonde kid. Angelic, with wispy blonde curls and big blue eyes, laughing and grinning as her mother got the moves wrong on purpose. Buffy laughed back, and they started again.

Riley stood and watched for a while, then made his move, walking past and ‘accidentally’ tripping over Buffy’s Keds.

“Oh, I’m sorry - Buffy?”

She looked up, startled. “Riley?”

He grinned down at her. “Hey, what are the odds?”

“What are you doing in Sunnydale?” The little girl got bored and clambered onto her mother’s lap, looking for attention. Buffy wrapped her arms around the kid, holding her close as she looked up at Riley.

“Remember my friend Graham? He was dating this girl at Sunnydale U and now they’re getting married. I’m the best man.”

“Oh, that’s great.”

She looked fantastic: older than before, but it suited her. Her hair was shorter too, a cute feathered bob that made her look like a pixie. She was wearing jeans and a little t-shirt and she was slim and tanned and beautiful. Shifting the little girl to one side, she stood up, then picked up the kid when she fussed.

“And who’s this?” Riley wasn’t great with kids, but he’d make an effort for Buffy.

“This is Alice. Alice, this is my old friend Riley Finn. Say hello.”

Alice’s eyes dropped away shyly.

“Usually I can’t stop her talking to strangers,” Buffy said. “C’mon, sweetie, he’s nice.”

Riley smiled at the ‘nice’. “Last time I met you, you hadn’t even been born,” he said, thinking Alice must take after her mother, because she was tiny for a five-year-old. Or maybe Buffy had been so stressed over being a single mother that she’d not got enough nutrition when she was pregnant. His smile faded. Maybe it had been because of Spike-

“Actually, last time you met her was never,” Buffy said. “Alice is three. Will’s the one you met before he was born. As it were. He’s at a birthday party in there,” she pointed to a boisterous group of kids inside the KFC. “Me and Alice were early to pick him up, so we thought we’d amuse ourselves out here.”

“Oh.” Two children? So Will must be the baby she’d been having when Spike left her. And then Alice... God only knew what sort of trouble Buffy had got into to end up with another kid. “And... Will and Alice’s dad is...?”

Alice made a face, and Buffy groaned. “He’s in... where is he, love? I don’t know. Somewhere in Asia, maybe? Or is it Eastern Europe? It’s not like he ever tells me. And you know me. I don’t do geography.”

So he’d given her two children, then left the country? The rat! How could he do that to Buffy?

Right then another woman turned up to collect her child, and Buffy exchanged a greeting with her, and then one of the children saw his mother and waved, and then half a dozen of them ran out after him, and the party was over.

Buffy collected her son, another beautiful child with very clear blue eyes and fair hair, went over the contents of his party bag with enthusiasm (a wind-up toy, a piece of squashed cake that had once had a bit of Spiderman’s arm on it, a handful of sticky sweets and some collectible cards), checked he had his coat and his shoes and had said thank you to the birthday boy’s mother, and eventually looked up at Riley, who’d been silent throughout.

“Listen,” he said, “I don’t know if maybe you have some spare time, we could go grab a coffee or something?” He looked at the children. “Some chocolate milk?”

Will started jumping up and down. “Chocolate milk?!”

“Aren’t you full?” Buffy asked in amazement.

“No, Darryl ate most of my chicken. Chocolate milk?”

“Deprived child,” Buffy shook her head at him, then looked up at Riley. “Okay, sure, coffee would be good. Lead on.”

He took the procession to the nearest coffee shop and ordered chocolate milk for the kids, who drank a tiny bit each then set off chasing each other around in circles, and then he sat down with Buffy and a sophisticated cup of coffee.

She asked for chocolate milk, too. But then that was Buffy for you.

“So,” he began, at the same time she asked, “So how’s Sam?”

Riley’s face fell. It wasn’t like he enjoyed being reminded. “Okay, probably. I haven’t seen her in six months.”

“You haven’t? Oh no.” Her face was full of sympathy. “What happened?”

“Well...”

Forty-five minutes later Buffy was sitting there with a glazed look on her face, wondering what she’d ever seen in Riley Finn. Sure, he looked like a computer-generated hunk, but for quite a while now Buffy had preferred her men a little messed-up. She’d finished her milk, and Will’s, and Alice’s, and finally she looked at her watch and exclaimed loudly, “Oh, no!”

“What?” Riley interrupted his misery-fest to look at her.

“I’ve just remembered. Oh, we’re going to be late!”

“We are?”

“We are,” Buffy gestured to her children. “For the, er, dentist. Yes. Will has to go to the dentist. All that chocolate milk,” she explained. “And we’re late! And it’s impossible to get an appointment, so...”

“I can drive you,” Riley offered, having already mentioned his shiny new 4x4 several times.

“No! I mean, thanks, but I have all my stuff in the car, and, er, the kids’ stuff, so...” She grabbed hold of Alice and started stuffing her coat on. “We have to go. Thanks for the milk. We should catch up. It’s been great!”

“But I don’t have your number,” Riley said, which was true since he’d searched for it in the phone book as soon as he’d known he was coming to Sunnydale.

“I’m in the book.”

“No, you’re not-”

“No, I really am. Look harder,” Buffy said, and then in a flurry of coats and handbags and complaining children, she was gone.

She raced out to the car park and got the kids in her mom-van in record time, terrified Riley was following her and she’d have to make up another excuse to get away from him.

Had he always been that boring?

Suddenly aware that Will was crying, she glanced in her rear-view mirror. “What’s the matter, sweetie?”

“I don’t wanna go to the dentist.”

“Oh, love, you don’t have to. I made that up. We’re not going there.”

Her son’s face immediately changed from hurt to angry. “Why did you say so then?”

“To get away from Riley.”

“Why?”

Here it goes, Buffy thought. “Because I was sick of the sound of him,” she said honestly.

“Why?”

“He was boring.”

“Why?”

Buffy glared at him through the mirror.

“He bought us chocolate milk,” Alice piped up.

“Well, yes. I didn’t say he wasn’t nice. He’s just boring.”

“Where are we going?” Will asked.

“Home,” Buffy said with relief.

“Did you see my Nemo toy?”

“Yes, sweetheart, I did. You can show me again when we get home.”

But when they got home and Buffy had gathered up all her shopping and made sure Alice still had both her shoes on and searched around in the bottom of the car for the Nemo toy and dropped her keys - twice - she fitted the front door key in the lock and couldn’t turn it.

The door was already unlocked.

She froze, trying to remember if she’d locked it or not. She was almost sure she had.

Yes. She had.

So who had unlocked it?

She stepped back and looked over the door, then the windows on either side. Nothing was broken.

Maybe it was Dawn. Or Xander, come to deliver that chair he’d been mending for her.

Or maybe it wasn’t.

“Okay, you two,” she dumped the shopping between her children, “stay here. I mean that. Right here, and don't make a single sound or move so much as a toenail, all right?”

“Toenails don’t-” Will began, but Buffy silenced him with her Mom-look. “Okay,” he whispered.

“Look after your sister,” she said, and he nodded solemnly. “I’ll be right back.”

She pushed at the door, wishing she had something weighty to swing, holding her keys ready to scratch if she needed to. She looked right, into the dining room. No, it was empty, and her laptop was still there on the table. She looked ahead, into the kitchen-

“Daddy!”

Alice’s shout made Buffy’s head whip sharply to the left, but before she could move she saw her daughter zip past her, into the living room, and throw herself at a man lying on the sofa.

Buffy started forward, then her brain caught up to her eyes and realised what she was seeing.

“Woah,” Spike caught the little girl before she jumped on him, “careful there, love, you’ll squash me.” He swung her up in the air, then pulled her against him, holding her tight.

“Daddy!” Will had followed his sister in and rushed over to the sofa. Spike grabbed him and hugged both children as they babbled and clambered all over him.

Eventually he looked up and saw Buffy standing there, biting her lip, staring at him like he was the first man she’d ever seen.

“Hi honey,” he grinned, “I’m home.”

Chapter One

She stood for a while just looking at him. Was there anything in the world more adorable than a handsome man with a couple of beautiful children?

Especially when they were your children.

And his, too.

Eventually he managed to climb out from under the kids and stand up, and he looked back at her.

“You okay?”

She nodded mutely.

“You look kind of...”

But he never got to finish, because Buffy raced over and threw herself at him, much like Alice had only a bit heavier, and he caught her as she wrapped her arms tight around his neck and breathed against his skin, “So glad you’re home.”

He prised her away a little, holding her back far enough to be able to kiss her, drinking her in, his Buffy, his wonderful Buffy. He kissed her for a long time, thinking he might stop when he got bored, only he never got bored, this was Buffy.

She ran her fingers through his hair, and moved away, making a face. “Someone needs a shower.”

He made a face back. “I have been on three planes, four buses, two trains-”

“And a partridge in a pear tree?” Buffy said, making Alice giggle.

“Bloody feels like it. I am knackered.”

He could tell Buffy was pleased to see him: she didn’t scold him for swearing in front of the children.

“What do you want to do first: eat, sleep, or shower?”

His eyes danced, and Buffy blushed. She knew damn well what he wanted to do first, and she wanted it too. But it was hours until the children would even consider going to bed; it was still light; he looked exhausted.

“Shower,” she decided for him. “And I’ll get some food sorted. What do you fancy?”

He caught her close and whispered, “You,” in her ear, and when she bashed at him, let her go, grinning. “Wings,” he said. “Spicy, greasy chicken wings. I have been dreaming about wings.”

“Just wings?” Buffy asked, her eyes glinting. “I’ll go out and get some-”

“No, you’re not leaving my sight.”

“Then how am I supposed to get the wings?”

He looked sulky. “I’ll come with you. We’ll all go-”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Buffy said, in the tone she used with the children when they wanted something unreasonable. “You are going to take a shower, mister, or the good people at KFC will think you’re a hobo.”

“Hobo,” Will repeated, and laughed. “Daddy, what’d you bring us?”

“Bring you?” Spike frowned. “Was I supposed to bring you something?”

Buffy stared at him, almost as hurt as the children, who looked like they were about to start crying.

“Oh, come on, do you really think I’m that bad a father?” He rolled his eyes. “Sit down and be quiet and I’ll give you your presents.”

They cheered up instantly. Buffy went outside to collect her shopping and Will’s forgotten party bag, and when she came back in Spike was presenting the children with all sorts of brightly wrapped, tacky things, which they fell upon with glee. Once upon a time Buffy had tried to buy them nice, solid, lasting things, but they’d been totally uninterested. Will’s favourite toy was a plastic castle manned with dozens of tiny soldiers, and Alice was inseparable from her stuffed cat. Both had cost less than $20.

He left them eating sweets they could have bought three streets away, but were so much more exciting because they were foreign, and came back to Buffy, who was sitting on the floor, watching as Alice played with a brightly coloured doll and Will made mountains of tiny coloured sweets.

“I called Dawn,” Buffy said. “She was going to come over anyway for a vid night-”

“She can come anyway,” Spike said generously. “I fancy seeing the niblet.”

Buffy raised her eyebrows. “Good, because she’s bringing the chicken wings.” She patted his cheek. “Go and take a shower,” she said, “you’ll appal her.”

“She’s a student,” Spike said, rolling his eyes, but he headed for the stairs, shedding his leather duster as he went.

Dawn left her sorority house, keys in hand, and almost walked straight into a very big, tall man wearing jeans and a scowl.

“Oh, sorry - wait, Riley?”

He stared down at her. “Dawn? Wow, look at you! All grown up.”

“Please,” Dawn said, “I’ve been grown up for years. Since you were last around, anyway.”

Riley looked her over. No. Last time he’d been around, Dawn was still firmly in the little girl category. Now she was in the hot woman category. How had that happened?

“What are you doing here?” Dawn asked, tucking her hair behind her ears.

“A friend of mine is engaged to a girl in Eta Beta Pi,” he said. “I’m going for dinner.” Politeness made him add, “You want to come with?”

“No, I have plans. Going to Buffy’s house.”

“Yeah? I saw her earlier at the mall. She looks great.”

“I know, that new haircut really - that’s not what you meant,” Dawn grinned.

“I mean, to say she’s bringing up those two kids alone...”

“Well, not now she’s not.”

Riley stared at her a second or two. Did she meant what he thought she meant?

“Uh-”

“I mean, not that she was. It’s just Spike’s away so often - or at least, it feels like it. He came home today,” she added by way of explanation, seeing him look confused.

“He came home?” Riley repeated slowly.

“Yep. From Cambodia or somewhere. Or Columbia...? I can’t remember. Anyway. Buffy always gets all happy when he comes back. When Will was a baby sometimes she’d go with him, but now he’s at school and Alice has kindergarten and they can’t just keep running all over the place, so at least his trips are shorter...”

Realising she was rambling, Dawn stopped. “Anyway. I have to go. Picking up dinner,” she waved her car keys. “I’ll see you around, Riley,” and she gave him a bit of a hug before turning and walking over to her little car.

Riley stood for a while on the steps of the sorority house, gobsmacked. Buffy was still with Spike? He came home to her and she welcomed it?

It was worse than he’d thought.

Dawn bought more food than some small countries ate in a week, and parked up outside Spike and Buffy’s house. After the fire in Ravello Drive they’d lived out of hotels for a while, until Buffy had fallen in love with this pretty little place with its own enclosed back garden and a big porch all the way around.

She pushed open the unlocked door and waved hi to her niece and nephew as she went through to the kitchen, handing Buffy the bags of food and holding up a little black dress: “Thanks for letting me borrow it.”

Buffy looked up from where she was making drinks for the kids and grinned. “Did he like it?”

“Oh, he liked it.” Dawn’s eyes misted over. “I had it cleaned.”

“I don’t want to know why. Could you take it up for me? I don’t want to get barbecue sauce on it.”

“Sure.” Dawn went back out to the hall and up the stairs, hung the dress in Buffy’s wardrobe, and came out just in time to nearly walk into her second handsome man of the evening.

The difference was that Spike was wearing a towel and some water and not a lot else.

Dawn swallowed. Normal procedure would have been to hug him hello, but somehow she figured that wouldn’t be appropriate right now. She gave him a little wave, and tried not to get too close.

“All right, niblet?”

She nodded and tried not to blush. All right, so maybe she still had a residual crush on Spike. Who wouldn’t? And did he have to stand there wearing almost nothing?

“Good trip?”

He shrugged. “Not bad. Got something for you - s‘downstairs.”

Dawn beamed like one of the children at the idea of a present. “Ooh! Gonna go have a look.”

His laugh followed her down the hall.

She found Buffy and the kids nestled on the sofa, watching M*A*S*H while they waited for Spike to argue over what video they were going to watch. Dawn almost sat down next to her sister, then changed her mind and took the chair instead, leaving space for Spike next to Buffy.

“Spike,” Buffy yelled, her eyes sill on the screen. “We’ve eaten your dinner.”

He yelled something back that was thankfully unintelligible, and emerged a few seconds later, looking almost normal in jeans and a sweater. Dawn had long ago realised that Spike really only did the black thing for show: and besides, Buffy had been sneaking nice things into his wardrobe for ages.

They squabbled over the video, the kids won their choice and ten minutes in, Buffy chucked a bit of popcorn at her sister and then pointed to Spike.

He was asleep, the children curled up on either side of him, a perfect blond tableau. Dawn made an ‘aww’ face.

“He showers, he eats, he sleeps,” Buffy shook her head. She glanced back at the screen where cartoon dogs were singing to each other. “You want to watch this?”

“God, no.”

Buffy grinned and picked up the control. “Right, 90210 it is, then.”

A couple of hours later, Dawn yawned and stretched and kissed her sister goodbye and drove home in the dark. Buffy switched off the TV, cleaned away the remnants of their takeaway dinner, picked up Alice who was closest, and carried her upstairs to bed. The little girl didn’t wake up as Buffy changed her into Barbie pyjamas, kissed her cheek, and went downstairs to get Will and do the same for him.

He was heavier than his sister - had he always been so heavy? - and he woke up when she started undressing him. He even offered to clean his teeth, which made Buffy proud. She put him in his Spiderman PJs and tucked him in and set the nightlight, then she went to her own room and got ready for bed.

Then she went back downstairs, where Spike was still asleep, looking beautiful in the semi-darkness of the room, and stood and looked at him for a while. There was a mark on his face, a faded scar, puckered pink skin that ran in a line over one high cheekbone. Fire. He seemed to attract it.

Then again, he was really hot...

She crawled onto the sofa beside him and kissed the mark. He stirred, reached out and pulled her into his arms like a child with a teddy bear. Buffy rolled her eyes.

“Spike, honey,” she said, “don’t you want to come to bed?”

His eyes fluttered open at the magic word, and she sucked in a breath, once more shocked at how blue they were.

“Bed?”

“Yes, love. Nice soft, warm bed...”

“With a nice soft, warm Buffy?”

She laughed. “If you play your cards right.”

He cupped the back of her head and kissed her, softly and beautifully, and Buffy knew he didn’t have to play anything at all to get her.

It had been weeks, bloody weeks, and she was desperate for him. She’d have had him right there on the sofa if it hadn’t been for the collected debris of Will’s party bag and Spike’s presents digging into her hip.

“Bed,” she said, and he nodded and stood up with her still in his arms. Buffy laughed and hung on as he carried her up the stairs and laid her gently down on the bed.

“And now I’m bloody knackered,” he said, and she smiled and crooked her finger at him and when he came closer, she stripped off his sweater and pressed her face to the smooth, hard muscle of his stomach.

“And suddenly feeling less tired,” Spike said thoughtfully, as Buffy started licking his skin. He unfastened his jeans, kicked them off, and then started peeling away Buffy’s Yummi Sushi! pyjamas. She touched his legs, scarred harder by the fire, and loved him for the imperfection. He’d got those scars saving Will’s life.

Naked, they rolled together under the covers, touching and stroking all over. He felt so good, so warm and hard and heavy and right, perfect in her arms, and Buffy pressed herself closer as he started kissing her neck, across her shoulder, down to her breast. She let out a happy little moan and arched against him as he sucked gently on her nipple, teasing with his teeth. His hand slipped down over the curve of her hip, caressed her thigh then slid between her legs, stroking her until she moaned harder.

And then she shrieked.

“Okay, I know it’s been a while, love,” Spike said, but she grabbed his hand and his head and snatched them away from where they’d been and said loudly, “Will! What is it?”

As if he’d been shocked, Spike sprang away from her to stare guiltily at his son, who stood there in his pyjamas, clutching a teddy, looking nervous.

“There’s something under my bed,” he whispered.

“Oh, honey,” Buffy said.

“Can I sleep with you?”

“How about,” Spike leapt at the edge of the bed, realised he was naked, and scrabbled for pyjamas, making Buffy shake with laughter, “I come and see what’s under there and then you can go back in your own room?”

He pulled on pyjama bottoms - seldom worn but kept for this very purpose - and left the room, going next door and poking about under Will’s bed, calling, “Hey, monsters, come out. Big ol’ Spikey’s gonna getcha!”

“’Cos that’ll have them coming out in their droves,” Buffy shook her head, trying to pull her own pyjamas on without catching Will’s attention.

“Can I sleep here with you?” he repeated in a little whisper, and she held out her arms.

“Of course you can. Up you come,” she lifted him into bed and waited for Spike to come back.

He did, towing Alice with him, giving Buffy a long-suffering look. “There was something under her bed too,” he said heavily, and swung her up next to Will. “You both sleep here, between your mummy and me, so I don’t get any ideas,” he flashed a look at Buffy, who gave him a rueful smile.

He got back into bed, and Alice snuggled up against him, warm and small and sweet, and he put his arms around her.

“Don’t go away again, Daddy.”

He kissed her hair and held her close. “I’m not going anywhere, love.”

Chapter Two

When Buffy’s alarm rang in the morning, her first thought was, Damn, I wish Spike was here.

Then she opened her eyes and he was there, inhumanly beautiful even when he slept, Alice curled against him, looking picture perfect.

She shook Will awake and left Spike and Alice asleep while she got Will ready for school. When she came home, Alice was watching TV in her pyjamas, a glass of milk in her hand. Spike was nowhere to be seen.

“He’s still asleep,” Alice said, and wrinkled her nose. “Daddy sleeps for hours.”

“When he gets the chance,” Buffy said. “Come on, time for you to get dressed.”

Alice went to pre-school most days, for either a morning or afternoon. By the time Buffy had finished doing the laundry and cleaning up the kitchen, which was full of last night’s debris, it was time to take her daughter in for the afternoon.

Spike was still asleep.

She got home, checked again, and this time made sure he was still breathing. Yep, and his pulse was fine too. Maybe he was in a coma.

She took the morning papers out to the garden with some lunch, and stretched out in the sun.

“Honestly,” said a voice an hour later, “is this all you do all day?”

Buffy slowly put down her drink, folded the papers, and when she turned back to the house her expression was carefully controlled.

“I have made breakfast for two children, lunch for myself, cleaned the kitchen, done your laundry, and taken the kids to school,” she said. “Tell me how productive your morning has been?”

Spike came down the porch steps into the sunlight. He was wearing jeans, and nothing else.

“I thought about you,” he said.

Buffy raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, dreamed. They were very hot dreams,” he said, coming closer and looking at her with big blue eyes. His lower lip was all pouty: biteable. Soft and delicious-looking.

Buffy had no idea she’d even stood up until she took that lip between her teeth and gently bit it. Spike groaned and his arms went around her and he whispered in her ear, “So the kids are both at school, right?”

“Mmm.”

“And the house will be empty for a good couple of hours?”

“Well-”

“And in fact, so will the garden?”

His hands were slipping under the waistband of her jeans, sliding the zipper down, wandering inside. Buffy sucked in a breath.

“Neighbours,” she said.

“Australian soap?”

“No, looking at us.” She pulled away and called, “Nice day, Mrs Johannsen,” and tugged Spike inside. He was laughing.

“Bet that’s the best thrill she’s had all year.”

Buffy looked at his hot, hard, semi-naked body, and corrected, “Her whole life.”

Spike grinned and licked her ear. “And you?”

“Best thrill I’ve had since... Oh, last time we did it in the garden.”

Spike grinned, and kissed her, softly at first, and then with growing urgency. Buffy tugged him towards the stairs, stopping every few steps for more kisses, or to take off a bit of clothing. Thank God they lived an California and never needed to wear much!

By the time they hit the stairs Buffy’s shirt was hanging off one arm and her shoes were in the living room somewhere. Her skirt was hitched up around her waist and Spike’s hands were delving inside her knickers.

She tried to remember why she’d been going upstairs, but her brain had stopped working and the only thing that came to mind was: Spike! Hot Spike! Hard Spike! Want hot hard Spike now!

She pulled him down on the stairs and Spike, never one to quibble over location as long as there was naked Buffy involved, happily went down with her, unfastening the front clasp of her bra as he did. God bless the man - or woman - who’d invented the front fastener.

He licked her breasts, flicked one rosy nipple, and Buffy moaned.

“Oh God, Spike, I want you now...”

He looked up at her, his eyes dark and his lips bruised, and Buffy nearly came on the spot. She grabbed him to her for another kiss, her hands sliding all over those delicious hard muscles of his, pulling him a little bit closer, unfastening the straining zip on his jeans and closing her fingers around him.

Spike pulled back, sucking in a breath.

“Do you want this to be over in seconds?”

Buffy bit her lip and stroked him with her thumb.

“Jesus Christ, Buffy, I’m not Superman,” he wrenched her hand away, and she gave him puppy-dog eyes. “I want this to last. I’ve been dreaming about it for bloody weeks.”

He took both her hands in his and held them above her head, kissing her bare neck, making her arch against him. She ran her foot up his bare back, and when he moved down her body, she found her leg wrapped around his shoulders.

“Gonna get my own back,” Spike murmured, his breath hot on her thigh, and then he licked into her, and Buffy let out an incoherent cry of pleasure. He’d always been so good at this, so naturally skilled. He was born to do it. She writhed under his hot lips and athletic tongue, her wrists still held by him, down at one side. She was trapped by her husband and he was torturing her: teasing her with indescribably pleasure, then stopping, then starting again, then stopping, until she was ready to scream.

“Oh God, please,” she begged, hips bucking, heel digging into his back. “Spike, please...”

“Please what?” He was breathing raggedly.

“Don’t stop... make me...”

“Make you come?”

“Yes.”

“You want me to lick you out?”

“Yes. God, Spike, I’m nearly there....”

“Nearly where?”

At that she snapped, and wrenched her wrists from his grasp. She grabbed his platinum head and forced him to look at her. He was smirking smugly.

“Get down there and make me scream in ecstasy or hurt you so bad you’ll never have sex again.”

At that Spike grinned. “I do love a powerful woman,” he sighed, and got back to work.

This time Buffy held onto him as he licked her, swirled his tongue into her, brought one hand down and stroked as he sucked and licked and made her scream unintelligibly.

“Ohh God, oh... Unh... You’re so... Christ, don’t... Unh! Ahhh! Aaiiiieeeeee...”

Someone knocked on the door, but Spike ignored it and Buffy was in no state to pay any attention to visitors.

Spike slipped two fingers inside her and Buffy’s head crashed back against the stairs. “Oh my God!”

“Buffy?” said someone outside. “Are you in there?”

Panting hard, thrusting herself closer to Spike’s miraculous mouth, Buffy didn’t even hear as the visitor knocked again.

“Buffy?”

Spike inserted a third finger.

“Oh - my-”

The door opened, Spike grazed Buffy’s clitoris with his teeth, and she came, screaming like a banshee, convulsing hard around his fingers, against his mouth, pleasure so intense she nearly passed out.

Xander stood in the doorway with a chair in his hands, staring.

“I’ll just leave this here, shall I?”

And he was gone, the door slamming shut with a bang that woke Buffy from her semicomatose state.

“Was that the door?”

Spike got to his feet, looking very pleased with himself. “Nothing important,” he said, and held out a hand to her. “Come on.”

Buffy sat up, shakily. “Not sure if I can move.”

He laughed at that. “God, I’m good. Come on, love,” and he picked her up, still half dressed with her skirt all crumpled and her bra hanging open. She nuzzled his neck as he carried her through to the dining room and laid her out on the table.

“We don’t use the bed any more?”

“Beds are boring,” Spike said, shedding his jeans and climbing on top of her.

“Hey, I thought you were abstaining,” Buffy teased, ridding herself of the rest of her clothes.

“No, I was holding out. There’s a difference.”

He settled in her arms, and both of them closed their eyes for a second at the rightness of it. “And that would be?”

“This way, we both get to come.”

“Ah. I see the wisdom of your ways.”

He slid up into her, and had to concentrate hard on not coming there and then. She was so wet, so bloody hot, holding him tight and deep inside her.

Buffy closed her arms around him and kissed his neck. “What are you waiting for?” she whispered.

Spike had always been a considerate lover. Even when he was being brutally rough with her, he always made sure she was enjoying herself. Not that he had to try very hard. All he had to do was take his clothes off and she was halfway there.

And now here he was, moving against her, lifting her legs around his waist, angling his hips against hers, nipping her throat with his teeth, and Buffy couldn’t believe how good he felt sliding into her, his body hot and hard against hers. She arched into him, and he groaned.

“God, you feel good.”

Buffy grinned wickedly to herself. “You might do too, if you moved just a little bit harder...”

Spike looked down at her, hurt disbelief on his face, then he caught the sparkle in her eye and growled, biting into her throat.

“You want it harder?” he said, and thrust in so hard Buffy lost her breath. “Like that?”

She nodded wordlessly.

“You want me hard...”

“Deeper...”

“Like that?”

“Oh, Christ...”

Before long he was pounding into her with such vigour the table was rocking. Buffy dug her nails into his back and whispered, “Harder, faster, deeper,” in Spike’s ear, and he thrust so hard it almost hurt, in the very best of ways.

“Come on,” she encouraged, “I'm nearly there...”

“Again?”

“What can I say?” Buffy panted. “You’re good.”

“Yeah?” Spike slipped a hand down between them and fondled her clitoris.

Buffy’s eyes rolled back in her head.

“You’re very, very - oh, God...”

Spike smiled a little self-satisfied smile and bit down on Buffy’s lower lip.

“God Spike, harder, just - yes, oh God, harder, hard... Spike, fuck me!”

And Spike did, so hard the table wobbled and lost balance and splintered and broke and they crashed to the floor in a heap of broken wood, neither of them noticing because they both came so hard at the same time that they screamed over the sound of the broken table and lay there, hot and tangled and both barely conscious.

Spike came back to earth first, and he started laughing.

“What?” Buffy said drowsily.

“Missed you,” he kissed her neck, and she smiled, making an attempt to put her arms around him and failing because she’d absolutely no energy left at all.

“We’re going to need a new table.”

“Sod the table,” Spike stretched above her, and Buffy lost interest in it as his body slid against hers and reminded her what a good time she’d just had.

They lay together for a while, breathing hard, moving little, enjoying being together again.

“Next time, don’t go away so long,” Buffy bashed Spike’s back lightly.

“Hey, I wasn’t planning on it being so long this time,” he said. “I wanted to get those Lempickas for you.”

This roused Buffy a bit more. “Did you?”

He nodded. “All three.”

She frowned a little. “Legally?”

“Of course legally! I’ve got the sodding receipts if you don’t trust me.”

She kissed his nose. “Of course I trust you.” She wrapped her arms around him and held him close. “How’d you pay for them?”

Spike looked a little sheepish. “Um, did you hear about a mosque fire in Dubai?”

Buffy narrowed her eyes. “Yes...”

“Well, that wasn’t me.”

“So...?”

“Mine was a temple in Cambodia.”

“You knocked off a temple in Cambodia?”

“Well, it wasn’t a current temple. I mean, there was no one worshipping there. Getting hurt or anything.”

“You didn’t kill anyone?”

“No. In fact, I saved a child’s life.”

“From the fire you’d started.”

Spike made a face and started to move away. “I knew you’d have a go over this...”

Buffy pulled him back. “What’d you steal?”

“Just a few bits and bobs. Place was mostly derelict anyway. Tomb robbers’d been through there anyway.”

“Tomb robbers? Spike, you went grave robbing?”

“There you go, getting all angry with me. Got you those Lempickas, didn’t I?”

Buffy frowned at him, but he was right. She could display the paintings for months before she finally sold them off. People would pay to see them. Tamara de Lempicka was worth something.

“I’m not getting angry with you,” she said. “It’s kinda sexy, the whole tomb raider thing.”

“If it’s good enough for Lara Croft...”

“Who is made out of pixels,” Buffy reminded him.

“Don’t I get a reward?” Spike pouted.

“Only if you ask nicely.”

He grinned and started nibbling on her earlobe, and Buffy started to roll him onto his back.

Then she stopped, wincing. “Ow!”

“You all right, pet?”

“Ow! No! God, lying on a heap of broken wood is bloody painful.”

Spike rolled off her, making a face as his bare back hit the broken wood. And he’d been pounding Buffy into that.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I was sort of... otherwise occupied.”

He couldn’t help a smirk at that as he stood and held out a hand to her. She took it and stretched, grumbling.

“That’s what beds are for.”

“Okay, we’ll go to bed.”

He started walking backwards, pulling Buffy after him, his smile promising all sorts of dirty things, when she suddenly stopped and stared, horrified.

“What?”

“Kids!”

Spike looked around in alarm. “Kids?”

“You know,” Buffy let go of his hands and started looking for her clothes, “little people who cost us so much money?”

“I know who they are, pet,” Spike looked behind him to see that had jolted Buffy. The clock. He sighed. “Pick-up time?”

“Pick-up time.” Buffy frowned at the clock. “I’m late already... If I go get Alice first then the traffic going for Will’ll be awful...”

“So get Will first.”

“I don’t want to leave Alice. She doesn’t know everyone there yet.”

“Well, you get Will and I’ll get Alice.”

“You know where it is?”

Spike shrugged, picking up his jeans. “Fourth Street Nursery, right? How hard can that be to find?”

Buffy threw her arms around him. “You’re the best. I love you.”

He smiled. “Love you too, pet. Right. Where’s her car seat?”

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