“Fuck!”

“Don’t worry,” Buffy said breathlessly. “We’ll do that soon.” She said, licking her lips and lowering her head to his crotch again.

Spike saw stars, and he didn’t mean the ones twinkling through the sun roof.

He was blessed. That was the only explanation for the presence of this exciting, vivacious woman in his life. They enjoyed a great sex life. They enjoyed a great life, period. But it was the unexpected gifts Buffy possessed that clued him in to the something specialness of their relationship. Who knew his blonde goddess would go down on him in a moving car? It had taken everything he’d learned about defensive driving to pull over safely and park the car into at the empty overlook. Thank god Californians loved to look at the sea.

“Have I told you how much I love your cock?” Buffy whispered, her warm breath tickling his sensitive dick. “I love the way it curves up towards your stomach, that little bend towards the head. I love every inch of it.”

A lick to the underside of the heated skin had Spike gripping the steering wheel tightly. “Damn…god, you’re fucking amazing.” He roared. Buffy’s giggles mingled with his panting. Buffy sat up satisfied with her work. She tugged her shirt back into place, smirking to herself. She reached inside the dashboard to pull out a wipe, glancing every now and then at Spike, who was still trying to regain his composure enough to drive them the rest of the way home.

Buffy leaned over and turned the car on so she could let the windows down. Spike opened one blue eye, gazing with unabashed admiration at his lady love. “So, Ms. Summers, what did I do to garner such excellent care from those delectable lips?”

Buffy turned in her seat, her hand straying to Spike’s chest. “Well, it wasn’t so much you as those little hussies checking you out at the party.”

Well, I’ll be damned, Spike thought. “You mean it wasn’t my hot bod?” Since when had she not been motivated by his naked self?

Buffy snickered, turning Spike’s head to face her. “I’ll admit to being motivated by a surge of jealousy, but I’ll also take any excuse to get a taste of Spikelicious.”

“Heh. Well, that’s a balm to my ego.”

“Well, you know, I have another balm for your ego right over here.” And with that statement, Buffy pulled her shirt over her head, revealing a cream-colored lace bra. Spike’s mouth watered at the site of her cherry nipples poking through the delicate material. It made her breasts resemble cupcakes with a cheery on top, and boy, did he want to swallow that mouthful.

Buffy leaned back against her door, her fingers dancing lightly between the cleft of her breasts. Spike’s eyes followed her fingers, his tongue darting out from between his perfect white teeth.

“Are you sure you want to mess up the upholstery, Buffy?” His concern was laughable, seeing as his fingers were already plucking at her shorts.

“Are you sure you can wait till we get home?” Buffy queried innocently, her eyes on his hardening cock. “Because I know I can’t.”

“Then we’re of like minds, Luv.”

Buffy lifted up, gasping as the elastic of her thong scraped her sensitive clit. Spike groaned as her apparent readiness for him was reveal by sight and smell. He ached to lower his mouth to her mound, to suck the tiny button of nerves into his mouth. To make her scream at the top of her lungs alternating between shouts of ‘don’t stop, don’t stop’ to ‘oh, god, I can’t take it anymore’. But he knew there would be more play later in their bed, and that this pit stop was just an appetizer to the main event.

“Remind me to thank the makers of your birth control patch. Makes screwing whenever or wherever we want, so much easier.” Spike snapped the front clasp on her bra, nudging the material to the side with his nose.

“So beautiful.” He told her, his tongue curling around her nipple and giving it a tug.

“Need to see… unh…need to see you.” Buffy stuttered, tugging at Spike’s shirt. Her fingers were like acupuncture needles, exciting each area of skin that she touched. Spike discarded his shirt as quickly as possible.

Spike turned to face Buffy again, and smiled. She was a goddess in his opinion, sprawled, as she was, in her seat. There was nothing more beautiful than Buffy hot and heady for sex, but the dimensions of the Liberty weren’t going to be as easy to manage. Well, like his father always said, nothing beats a failure but a try. Spike tugged his pants down, bumping his knee on the steering case. Buffy watched with an amused eye as Spike twisted and turned, trying to get over the gear shift and the front storage case to line up with her interlocking part. It wasn’t going to work, but damnit, she was horny as hell, and ready to pound Spike into the seat. She wanted to be driving around with his ass imprinted on her seat for all eternity.

Spike rolled his eyes in frustration till a little light bulb went off in his head.

“Come here.” He commanded. The seat shot back as Buffy climbed over the gear shift. Not the best car to have sex in, but they were game. Besides if the sex was bad here, not very likely, they still had the Desoto and the motorcycle to try out. Buffy leaned back against the steering wheel, making a mental note to remember the air bag. Spike was still clothed from the waist down, and the roughness of his jeans rubbed Buffy’s legs, enhancing her senses to the point, she thought she’d come just from the feel of denim on her bare skin.

“Come to me, lover.” One hand on her hip, the other on his throbbing cock, Spike eased the head into her warmth. His head dropped, his mouth gaping open as his senses were assaulted with the snug tightness of her snatch.

“Umm.” Buffy moaned, arching her back, taking Spike all the way inside of her body. She hoped she never got use to his size. Each time was more exquisite than the last.

Spike’s fingers tickled the skin of her lower back, drawing nonsensical patterns in her heated skin. Buffy’s eyes drifted closed and her hands gripped his shoulders as his finger played at the cleft between her ass cheeks.

It was like riding a Thoroughbred. Muscle, hard as steel, pounding deeply beneath her legs as she rode Spike. She gripped his head in her hands, pulling his mouth to hers in a bruising kiss. Lips shifted, tongues caressed, teeth nipped till the world outside disappeared like white noise. Nothing mattered, but the feel of her nipples against Spikes, his fingers tapping a titillating staccato on her hips, across her belly to her clit. They were like a well-oiled machine, churning, racing to the place where they were one.

Spike gasped as he pulled away from Buffy’s lips, drawing in gulps of air in rhythm to the clenching of his ass as he strained towards Buffy’s warmth. Buffy’s eyes were hooded, but steady in their assessment of his. She arched her neck, exposing tiny droplets of sweat that clung to her skin like raindrops on a blade of grass. Spike bent forward, his eyes bulging as his sudden movement caused Buffy’s inner muscles to clench tightly around his penis. He licked her neck, trailing his tongue over heated skin.

Buffy lifted her leg, wrapping it around the back of the seat.

“So glad you started up with the Pilates again.” Spike commented, gripping the dash behind her to aid in his desire to bore a hole into her back.

“Well, you know everything I do..oh, dear god… I do it for you.”

Spike leaned back, grinning. “You’re not going to bust out into that Musketeer song, are you? I want to keep my erection.”

Buffy leaned forward, her teeth pulling at Spike’s lip. “I want you to keep your.. fuck…your erection too.”

Buffy placed her hands on the roof, using the leverage to grind harder onto Spike’s pelvis. She relished the moments before…What the fuck? Lights. There were lights coming towards them. Not unidentifiable lights, but red and blue lights. Oh, god.. just a few more minutes.

Spike was gasping for air like a fish out of water, already too far gone to realize they had company. Well, she would just have to stop. It was the right thing to do. It was the decent thing to do. She couldn’t get arrested for indecent exposure. It would be embarrassing and humiliating. Right? But, she was so close, and so was the officer. Just… a few more..

“Spike. Cop. Behind us. Harder, baby! Harder! Oh, yes! Yes! Oh, fuck!” She screamed, squeezing her eyes shut, willing the cop to give her a minute to at least get her shirt on. He was getting out of the car, and Buffy felt her body rise in the air. Now, she did wonder for a moment.. Am I flying because of the orgasm or is that something else?

“Buffy. Put your shirt on, dear. The nice policeman is at the bumper.” Buffy blinked away the stars in her eyes, and dove for her clothes. She was back in her seat, and Spike had at least stuffed himself back into his pants. Good, she thought. Wouldn’t want the cop to see Mr. Spikey, especially if he was a she.

Okay, wrong thing to be thinking about Summers!

Buffy managed to get her shirt on, and was in the process of buttoning her shorts when a light was shined directly inside the driver’s window.

“ID and registration.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You laugh, Dawnie. It was a very bad situation. We could have gone to jail.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Buff.”

She didn’t look sorry to Buffy. In fact, her baby sister looked as if she were ready to bust a blood vessel.

“Knew I shouldn’t have told you.” Buffy grumbled, breaking down the box and setting it aside.

Dawn tried to compose herself with limited results. She took a deep breath, determined to get a few sentences off before she collapsed.

“No, no, I’m glad you did, Buffy. I’m just shocked that’s all.” Dawn wrapped her arms around Buffy, who had her arms crossed over her chest. “Sisters are supposed to share things.”

“Yeah, right. Anyway, if it hadn’t been for the officer’s wife being a huge fan of Spike’s, we would be in jail, and not helping you move.”

“Who would have thought a book about your sexual escapades would help you get out of trouble from another of your sexual escapades?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was kinda cute in a boy scout, whitebread, captain cardboard kinda way. If she were at all attracted to the milquetoast type, she’d definitely be in love with Riley Finn. But… and it was a huge but, she wasn’t in love with Riley Finn. She was in serious like with him. They had fun. They had sex a lot. That was the making of a perfect relationship. She couldn’t handle anything more syrupy than that. If that was the case, then, why was she so fucking upset that Riley had broken their da…not date, scheduled S&M session, for the opportunity to try out the latest Nintendo games? Well, that didn’t take a non-blonde to figure that out. She would be delayed in her sexual gratification. It had nothing to do with the special dinner she’d planned or the sexy lingerie she’s purchased or the scented oil she’d borrowed from her friend. Nope, it had nothing to do with any of those things.

“So, are you sure you don’t want to come?”

Now, that was a loaded question. Harmony rolled her eyes at the set-up. She’d let that one slide.

“Nope, I’m positive. You go and have tons of fun with your friend, Xander. It’s a great opportunity. I know how much you like your Game Boy.” She could be diplomatic, instead of dramatic. There were other fish in the sea. She and Riley weren’t in a committed relationship. They were not necessarily or contractually obligated to spend time with each other. At least, he wasn’t going out with that broomhilde Druscilla Cavanaugh or his Ice Princess ex, Buffy. He was going out with a guy, and that little speech sounded so much better before the implications hit.

“Not Game Boy, X-cube.”

“Right.” Harmony said, lacing that one word with enough sarcasm to choke a horse, but clueless as usual Finn missed the point. “I’ll be fine. I’ll probably hit Insurrection with the gals, pick up a few items and head to the club.”

“Which club?” Riley knew better than to push Harm. She didn’t take inquires into her off-time lightly. He hoped he projected enough mild curiosity to by-pass her sensors.

“Oh, I don’t know… Fuel, Vortex, maybe Backstreet.”

Backstreet? Backstreet, where her ex-partner and his new partner worked. Why would she want to go there?

“Sounds like an exciting evening for you.” He responded woodenly. Had she noticed? Nope. She was ignoring him. Damn this felt too familiar for his comfort.

Harm was searching the paper for a new place to live. She’d had enough of her neighbors. Nosy old biddies and prudes. She need some room to breath and hang her swing. Riley reached to touch her bouncy, golden waves, but stilled his hand. Public displays of affection were only allowed if they involved the lower halves of their anatomies, never anything so intimate as a kiss or a caress.

Riley sighed. Buffy hadn’t minded his kisses or caresses. And no, he wasn’t jonesing for her again. Just making an observation. Even though, their relationship was doomed from the beginning, they’d had some good times. Buffy couldn’t deny that, even if she wanted to. Not that she would. Not that she thought about him much. But Harmony? Anything resembling a normal relationship and she would freeze faster than milk in liquid nitrogen.

“What’s up with the silence?” Harmony asked. Her head was still bent over the paper, so Riley missed the huge grin on her face. “Do you think you could ride with me to see a house tomorrow?”

The change in the topic of conversation had Riley’s head spinning. Harmony saw the blank look on his face, and knew she should have held up a sign or something indicating a turn was coming up.

“Me. Looking for a new place with sturdy walls and access to the beach.” She turned, uncrossing her legs, giving Riley an unobstructed view of her crotch.

“Tomorrow?” Riley wiped his mouth, which was suddenly parched.

“Well, we can’t go tonight because you have to play with dipsticks, instead of me.” Harmony hopped down from the stool, taking the paper with her. She folded the section up that listed the house she wanted to see and placed it in her purse.

“Is this really important to you?”

His sincere tone brought forth a smidgeon of guilt, but the devil on her shoulder in tight red latex was telling her that this would be the perfect ploy to rid Riley of his “affliction”.

“It’s important to us. You’re going to be coming over to the house too.” She left the obvious question of their continued romps in the air. She wasn’t going to beg, no matter how much she enjoyed playing with him.

Riley leaned back on his heels, rocking back and forth. Let her wait. Let her think he wasn’t going to do it. He couldn’t let Harmony think she held his balls in her chain purse. Even if she had that one night.

“How about we drive by tonight.. after I get back from the party?”

Harmony smiled, genuinely happy. “Thank you, Mr. Finn. I knew I could depend on you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Sitting on the dock of the bay, watching the clouds roll away.” Spike’s voice was drowned out as he pushed his head under the water stream.

Buffy gazed with glee as the water made wonderful patterns over the taut muscles of his back and butt. Damn, he had a great butt. She often fantasized about bouncing quarters off the globes, just to see how far they would rise.

“See something you like?”

“Maybe.” Buffy winked. Spike threw back his head, laughing.

Buffy slid her hands up Spike’s chest, reaching around him to grab the bottle of shampoo. She took a bite out of his side as she ducked back around.

“Hey!” Spike chuckled. “Artist at work, here.”

Buffy rolled her eyes as she looked up her nose at Spike. “Oh, poor baby, did that little nip hurt?”

Spike placed both hands on Buffy’s shoulders, smirking at her. “As nips go, luv.” He said, his thumbs rubbing a trail from her shoulders to her neck. “It wasn’t bad. Your mouth, my skin. Perfect combination.”

Buffy lolled her head back. “Well, your mouth, your tongue, my clit. That’s a great trifecta.”

Buffy felt the growl in Spike’s chest before it reached her ears. She absolutely loved the noises that he made when he was aroused. Oh, yes, she loved his moan and groans and shouts and screams. She was acutely aware of the affect her words had on him when his hands roamed down her back to cup her butt.

“I want to make love to you all day long.” Spike whispered in her ear. “I want to lay you out on the bed, on the floor, on the kitchen table, and lick every inch of your body.”

Buffy squinted through eyes dilated by her rising arousal. “Don’t let the place stop you, honey. I’m flexible.”

Spike snickered. “Yes, I know. You’re so very, very flexible.” He bit down on Buffy’s lower lip, chewing on the soft skin. Buffy’s back arched, pressing her hips into his cock resting hot, hotter than the water on her skin, against her belly.

“Now, I need you to be flexible and perform that trifecta I was admiring earlier.” Buffy’s small hands pushed on Spike’s shoulders. He didn’t need much encouragement. He loved going down on her. Tasting her, sipping her essence.. Damn, he felt like a vampire. He was addicted to it.

The mix of the water, the heat and the feel of Spike’s tongue and lips on her skin was enough to make Buffy lightheaded. She gazed at his head of curls as they descended lower and lower. Spike’s finger caressed her thigh, kneading her flesh, parting her legs. They were a team, she and Spike. Like the pitcher and the catcher, she knew what each signal, each pat meant. So she didn’t hesitate as she raised her leg over Spike’s shoulder, one hand pressed against the cold tile, the other resting lightly on his head.

“God, I love your quim.” Spike rasped. He was pressed tightly against her stomach, his breath tickling the shortly trimmed hairs beneath his lips.

“Uh huh.” Buffy was incapable of words, and Spike always seemed to make little comments like that when she was just getting riled up.

“Pretty in pink. That’s what I say.” He said, parting her nether lips with his tongue. “Oh, so pretty.”

“Oh..umm..” Buffy’s fingers gripped Spike’s hair painfully, pushing his face tight against her clit. She could easily suffocate me. Spike thought, then grinned against her clit. He’d definitely die a happy man. There was nothing more exciting than pleasuring his lady, especially when those little whimpers she made as she neared her climax turned into little shrieks.

When she came, she screamed like a banshee, alternately between praising him as a master of cunnilingus and wanting to know who in the hell taught him to be that way.

“I can’t reveal my sources. Not that there are many of them.” Spike hurried to add. “Just know this, baby. You’re the last woman who’ll ever know the wonders of the Big Bad’s tongue.”

“Glad to hear it.” Buffy said, dragging Spike’s mouth to hers.

Their tongues slid slickly across the others, tasting the sweetness of the strawberries they had for breakfast. Now, that might have struck others as being gross, but to Buffy, the mix of Spike and strawberries was like a well-made marguerita from her favorite Mexican restaurant.

Spike felt the shiver pass through her lips to his, and picked Buffy up and placed her under the shower head. The warm water was a sharp contrast to the cold tile, and Buffy opened her eyes, neither shocked nor surprised by Spike’s intuitiveness.

“You always know what makes me feel better.” She murmured, kissing her way from his chin to the tender spot below his ear.

“Does this feel better?” Spike pulled Buffy’s legs around his waist and pushed upward, impaling her on his penis in one strong thrust.

“Oh, god, yes!” Buffy arched her back, taking all of Spike’s cock into her cunny. Buffy got a mouthful of water for her troubles, and grasped Spike’s neck to pull herself upright.

“Jeez. Don’t drown! I’m not into necrophilia.” He joked, her tightly against his chest.

Buffy’s peal of laughter echoed off the shower walls. “Never say never, Spike. Are you telling me you wouldn’t still want me if I was undead, like in Lost Boys?”

“I’d want you anyway I could get you.” He said, managing to hold her tiny body and turn off the shower. “I’d even let you turn me into a vamp, so I could spend the rest of my life with you.”

Buffy got a goofy grin on her face. “That’s kinda sweet in a Dracula kinda way.”

“I thought so.” Spike agreed. “You do realize we’re in the middle of a rather terrific shag, Luv?”

“Kinda hard.” She told him, wiggling her hips, “to miss what I’ve got..”

Ring. Ring.

“What is this? Coitus Interruptus week for Spike and Buffy.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fucking unbelievable.

It was fucking unbelievable.

He only had himself to blame for his predicament. He should never have allowed Harmony to put the blindfold on him. Never should have trusted her to drive them to this house for a little fun. Definitely shouldn’t have allowed things to continue once he realized where they were. Probably should have listened to his conscience when it said.. ‘Yo, Rye Man.. this is a badddd idea.’

“Say something, Riley.” The officers had them get dressed. They thought she might be embarrassed by her appearance, they were wrong. She wasn’t, but to appease them, and to calm Riley, she had dressed quickly. Now, they sat on the sofa awaiting the arrival of the owner.

“Riley…” Harmony peered into his face, but he was closed off, his mouth firm and tight. She bit her lip. It had seemed like the perfect idea when she’d thought it up. Bring him to Buffy’s house, have sex in every room. Banish Buffy’s memory from his body while she rode him to oblivion. It was a good idea. He’d been reluctant at first, balking at the idea of screwing in Buffy’s home. But he’d given in, loving the idea of doing something so naughty in a place he had once called home.

“It’ll be your way of getting back at Buffy without resorting to silly shit like that letter or having anything to do with that crazy cow, Druscilla. Don’t you think this is a much better way of exacting revenge on her.” She whispered in his ear, trailing her tongue along its edges. “I know I’ll enjoy helping you work out your issues.”

“This is crazy. Illegal. We could get caught.” Even as he was making excuses, he was deciding where he wanted to have her first. Each spot he looked at or thought about held some importance to him. Their first kiss. Their first make-out session. Their first night together. Their first morning together. Their anniversary.

“Don’t you…ahhh!!” Harmony shouted as Riley suddenly reared up, grabbing her by the arms and carrying her to the living room. There they stripped quickly out of their clothes and got on with the business of humping Buffy’s touch out of Riley’s mind.

They’d just gotten to the bedroom when the lights came on next door, and the neighbor’s dog started to howl.

“Stupid dog!” Riley shouted. Harmony smirked, her mind going over what she had in her bag.

“You don’t like the dog?” She asked innocently, leaning over and grabbing her bag. She tensed her muscles, making sure to keep Riley’s attention squarely on her crotch and not on her hands.

“Unh… that’s good, Harm. Keep doing thaaaattt.”

Harmony smiled. “Close your eyes.”

“I’ve seen it all before.”

She squeezed again, this time less pleasant than the last couple of times. “Okay. Okay.”

Riley closed his eyes and felt her hands sliding over his chest. When he felt the cold links of the dog collar, his eyes popped open.

“That’s right, slave. You’ve been a bad doggie.”

It had all gone downhill after that. Her screams, his grunts, Mrs. Conroy’s dog, and then they were staring up into the harsh lights of the Santa Monica PD.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy stared out onto the coming tide. She hadn’t moved, too shocked by recent events to acknowledge Spike’s presence.

Granted, he’d been in the kitchen doubled over holding his aching sides.

He’d tried not to laugh when the police told them what they’d found. It was just too funny. Then, the look on Mrs. Conroy’s face. The way her lips were drawn so tightly together, Spike was surprised her eyes didn’t touch the sides of her mouth.

“The dog alerted you to a problem.” Buffy still couldn’t believe it. Had she been called from shower sex to her house where her ex was tressed up like an English poodle and his new girlfriend had on enough leather to have PETA take her on as a personal cause? It was really surreal, and it certainly didn’t help that Mrs. Conroy was the one to call the police. Nor the fact that her little shit of a dog was the reason they were all standing around totally embarrassed and uncomfortable.

“We’re not getting a dog.” Spike murmured in her ear. “Cats tell no tales.”

She wanted to smack him. She needed him to be serious. Cause lord knew she was getting ready to snap.

“You’re not helping.”

“Not trying to.” He singsonged, and because he realized a pissed off Buffy was a no-sex Buffy, he straightened up and tried to be serious.

“What are you going to do to them?” Spike spared a glance at his rival. Nah, Riley wasn’t his rival. Riley had been a pit stop for Buffy. A mild substitute until Spike returned to reclaim what was his.

“Well, it’s up to Ms. Summers.” The office admitted. “We can charge them with breaking and entering easily, definitely trespassing. But seeing as you are friends…” He trailed off. He was leaving it up to Buffy. Here was her chance for the perfect revenge, but she didn’t have it in her to do it. She just wanted to go home and forget this ever happened.

“Can we just call it a big misunderstanding? A prank? I’m sure tomorrow I will see the funniness of the situation.”

If seeing Riley in leather straps and collar was comedy, then Spike didn’t know what was. Oh, he couldn’t wait to tell Wes and Connor.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, no harm.” Except to my sanity and my kitchen counters. Bleach. Pine-sol. Something to get the spunk out. “No foul.” Well, it’s pretty foul what they did in the bedroom, but I can shampoo the rug and Lysol the place.

“Okay. We’ll just give them a warning and send them on their way.”

“What would you like me to do?” Spike asked, easing behind Buffy and wrapping his arms around her.

“Laugh. I know you want to.” He heard the smile in her voice.

“Well, it was funny, Pet. Of all the people to get caught with their knickers around their ankles, I thought it would be us, not that git.”

Snicker.

“I’ve never seen that side of Riley.” Buffy admitted.

“Me neither, and I can honestly say, I hope never to repeat the experience. His girl had on a rather fetching outfit, though.”

Snicker.

“She was Porn Star Barbie, and you know it.”

Snicker.

“Yeah, and I guess she had a handle on her Ken doll.”

Buffy looked over her shoulder, her face split into a huge grin.

“Well, she can have her Ken. I’ll take my Spike anyday.”

“How about right now?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike pushed Cordy’s mouth close.

“I’m sure that is a huge turn-on for Lindsey, but right now, I can see what you had for lunch in your molars.”

That got her mouth closed quickly. Spike mused. There was nothing like vanity to shut Cordelia Chase’s mouth.

“I can’t believe they had the stones to do that in your house.” Lindsey said, handing Buffy her wine.

“They do and they did.” Buffy shuddered as she thought of all the flat and vertical surfaces she had in her house.

“Kinda puts a new twist on the old saying ‘if the walls could talk’.” Cordy shook her head in disbelief. “I guess this is good in a way. One less problem to worry about. Riley’s obviously moved on.”

“Not necessarily.” Wesley piped in. “The fact he chose Buffy’s house for his S&M romp kinda points to his continued interest.”

Lee rolled her eyes. That was her Wesley. So practical. So sweet. Too honest for his own good. How in the hell did he make any money as a lawyer?

“You didn’t see his playmate.” Spike gave them the thumbs up. Both Lindsey and Wesley smiled their appreciation, knowing Spike’s taste in women was far from shabby.

“Spike…” Buffy growled.

Damn. Forgot about jealous Buffy. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“Stop with the admiration of PS Barbie or I’ll have to gush about what I saw of Riley.” She set her glass down. “What you saw of Riley.”

That had Spike groaning and Wesley and Lindsey squirming in their seats.

“You can share, Buffy. We don’t mind.” Heller laughed at the pained look on Spike’s face. Got more than an eyeful, didn’t ya?

“I’m gonna take pity on them, and move on to the wedding.” Cordelia interjected. “Not that I don’t like a little soft porn before bed.”

“Yes, you do.” Lindsey responded. That earned him a round of surprised looks. Lindsey was the quiet one. They rarely got a rise out of him.

“What? I’m a cook, not an eunuch.” Lindsey grumbled.

Cordelia grinned, wrapping her arms around Lindsey’s waist. “That’s right. He not only cooks in the kitchen, but out of it as well.”

They really were sickening. Heller thought. In love and happy. I’m in love, she thought, grabbing Wes’ chin for an impromptu kiss.

“So, what’s up with the impromptu meeting, Cor? Not that I’m not extremely pleased to be in your company.” Spike added, seeing the gleam in Cordy’s eyes.

“Better.” She sighed. “Well, Lindsey and I wanted to ask all of you to be a part of the wedding.”

Buffy gasped, her shock evident. “Really? You don’t have to ask me to do something because of Spike.”

Cordy rolled her eyes. “This is my wedding, Buffy. The most important day of my life. Do you really think I’d invite just anyone to stand beside me as I take Lindsey as my husband? The obvious answer is no, by the way. All of you mean so much to us. You’re our family.”

Lindsey sat up. “Cor is right. Each of you has contributed in some way to our happiness. It wouldn’t be right without you.”

Heller was fighting back tears. So was Buffy. Wes and Spike were trying to be manly, and not give in to their emotions.

“And I expect equal compensation at your weddings.” Cordelia added.

Buffy and Heller got up at the same time, moving over to the sofa. The guys vacated as the three females broke down and cried tears of joy, they hoped, as they squealed their happiness.

Lindsey led the men into the kitchen, where they could still hear the ladies giggling and sobbing.

“You do realize your gooses are cooked.” He said, opening the refrigerator and handing Spike and Wes a cold one. “You are as good as engaged after this.”

Wes shrugged. He already had a ring.

“I know my goose’s been prepped for baking. It’s the blonde wonder here who has yet to step up to the plate.”

Spike looked up at the ceiling, at the wallpaper, anyplace that didn’t have his two friends occupying space. All this food talk was making him hungry.

“Never you mind about the blonde wonder. You’ve been dating Lee longer than I’ve known Buffy, both in the biblical sense and otherwise, so you are going to have to ask her first. If not, then I pity you because she will kill you and get away with it. She’s a lawyer.” Spike tipped his beer to Wesley, who suddenly felt the heat back on him.

“This is really all your fault Lindsey.” Wes grumbled good-naturedly.

“My pleasure, boys. Just trying to set the standard.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Tall, dumb, and forehead was getting head in Buffy’s house?!” Lorne whispered harshly into the phone. He’d broken the cardinal rule of phone etiquette with Tara. Never use the speaker phone.

“Yep. Buffy told me he was dressed up in crotchless leather briefs with a dog collar around his neck, and his girlfriend or Master or whatever had the chain, the whip, a leather corset that had her tits swinging in the wind, high heels and nothing else.”

When Buffy had phoned and given them the lowdown on the previous night’s activities, Tara had been truly intrigued and shamefully turned on by the prospect of watching Riley get his ass beat by a woman in spiked heels. She figured it was the dominatrix in her, instead of her taking leave of her senses.

“Did you know he was freaky?”

“Yeah, Lorne, I knew. I just kept it to myself.”

“No need to get snippy, Missy.” Lorne retorted, leaning back in his chair. “I was in a good mood before you called, and I’m not going let you destroy it with your pissy attitude. You’re obviously feeling a bit off-kilter about the snatch high you got off Buffy’s story.”

Tara grinned. She couldn’t lie to Lorne. He was like her priest and their talks were confession.

“Yes. It pisses me to no end to think I might have gotten wet from that. I made Xander go get us a new porno and nipple clips.”

Lorne shuddered. He wanted to believe the clips were for Willow, but he had a sneaking suspicion they were for an unsuspecting Xander.

“Wait a minute. You were in a good mood, and the LA Times wasn’t notified?” Tara snarked. “I would have thought that would warrant a full-page ad.”

“Heifer!” Lorne jokingly replied.

“You act like that’s a bad thing. So tell me all about it. What brought this on?”

Lorne glanced around the room, petulant as a child refusing to eat his vegetables. He didn’t want to share. He hated giving Tara any leeway over him, but he was ready to gush like Old Faithful from his mouth and nether regions.

“Lorne… Please, I promise to behave and act like a virginal Catholic school girl. Is it your new client, the great doctor, Faith Morgan?” Tara smiled around the lollipop she was sucking.

“She’s nice, Tara. I like her.” Lorne blushed. He was momentarily shocked by the action, and quickly rummaged through his desk drawer to find his mirror. He hadn’t blushed since he saw his cousin Vi naked. I’ll be damned, he thought. I possess a modesty gene.

“So when are you going to ask her out?” If Lorne didn’t step up to the plate soon, Tara was going to make an appointment with said doctor to discuss friends who didn’t know a good thing when they saw it.

“I was thinking of asking her to a business dinner.” He said, putting air quotes around the business part. “Can’t let that banshee find out I’m trying to date Faith, though. She’d have my nuts in a mini-Cuisinart.”

“And where, oh where would that leave you?”

Lorne snorted, hearing the amusement in Tara’s voice. “Anyway… That’s the plan. She’ll be here shortly, so be gone voodoo woman. I have a girl to ask out.”

“Okay,” Tara answered laughingly, “I’ll go, but just remember... You’re a special person. People like you. You’ll eventually get laid this year.”

Lorne took the high road, deciding not to comment. He was a special person. People did like him. Now, he had to convince a ruby-lipped brunette to like him enough to go to bed with him. After many dates, of course.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike liked to tackle a problem. He liked digging in, debating what would work, and what wouldn’t till he found the answer. But this took the cake. How in the hell was he suppose to know what took spunk out of linoleum? And Buffy was absolutely no help. She was reading Cosmo. As if she needed any tips. He could testify to the fact, she definitely knew what it took to get his engines revved and humming.

He needed Anya here for this. Sad, but true, his mother-in-law knew how to get wet stains out of the upholstery. Something he’d unfortunately found out when he popped in unexpectedly on her as she was cleaning the sofa. Of course, there was no pause button on Anya’s brain, and she’d blurted out the real reason for the stains, in spite of Spike’s red face.

“That’s ridiculous.” Buffy mumbled, stopping in the middle of the aisle.

“What is?” Spike peered over his shoulder at her.

“This article. The author is saying the best orgasms are shared ones. That’s a crock of shit.”

Spike shook his head, amused at her ire. “Don’t we share orgasms?”

“Well, if we’re in the right rhythm we do, but most of the times, hon, someone’s getting to the finish line ahead of the other.” She grinned and winked.

“Are you trying to imply I come before you?” Spike’s baby blues twinkled mischievously, setting off all the right bells in Buffy’s body.

“Maybe. It’s not a bad thing. Quite the compliment to me, actually.” Buffy wrapped her arms around his waist, smiling up at him. “Quite the female empowerment.”

She motioned him closer, and he leaned over till their lips were almost touching. “It’s a rush, really. Knowing I can bring you off. Knowing the feel of me around you can make your eyes roll into the back of your head. Make your toes curl. Make you wish it would never, ever end.”

Spike bit his lip, the pain elicited the only thing keeping him from picking her up and carrying her caveman style to the car.

“Yes, I can see why that might be a turn-on, luv.” His voice had dropped to that honey-dipped octave that had Buffy ready to break those stupid indecency laws. Again.

“Does it really matter what we get to clean the house?” Spike asked, pulling any bottle that felt the right shape off the shelves as they made their way quickly to the check-out.

“Nope.” Buffy responded, pulling him along. “What we don’t clean, we’ll cut off the price.”

“Nice selling point.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hank and Rupert smiled the long-suffering, husband smile as their respective mates discussed baby products and hemorrhoids.

“You do realize we’re not needed here.” Giles nodded his agreement to the statement, while gazing with love at Anya.

“Yes, I do. I wasn’t around for Spike’s mother during her pregnancy, so I’m learning the finer points of being irrelevant. Anya is fully capable of handling most things that happen on a daily basis. I’m here for moral support. When it comes to the really hard decisions like the color of the room and what will go inside it, she merely allows me to accompany her on the shopping trips.”

Hank laughed. “It continues after the birth, but to a lesser extent. I’m just grateful the girls still need me for things. Speaking of which, I promised Buffy I would drop by and help her with some packing. Would you like to join me? I’m sure the kids are off doing something youthful and fun on this sunny day.”

Giles liked Hank Summers. He was a fine man, and took the job of being a father seriously. Some fathers truly believed it was the woman’s job to raise the kids, while he brought home the money, but from all he’d heard, Hank was very involved in his children’s lives.

“That sounds like a splendid idea. It’ll give me a chance to replenish my testosterone stock. I doubt Anya and Joyce will tire anytime soon of the subject of the proper nappies for the baby.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a sight no father should have to see. Unless he watched porn, and then he wouldn’t want to see his own child starring in it.

The first sign of trouble were the bags dropped haphazardly in the doorway. But being fathers, Hank and Rupert dismissed it. The second clue that they shouldn’t proceed was the trail of clothes that led from the living room to the bedroom. It obviously had been awhile since they’d thrown their clothes off in a passionate frenzy.

“Oh, dear lord!”

Buffy heard the exclamation but it being in a British voice threw her off. Her eyes were closed, and Spike was pounding steadily into her.

“Oh, my god!”

Buffy sure does sound hoarse. Spike mused, then grinned because his expert strokes were obviously the cause.

The slamming of the bedroom door brought them out of their sex haze and had them both looking at the door in confusion.

“Was that the wind?” Buffy asked, in between planting kisses on Spike’s jaw.

“Maybe. We could have left the front door opened.” Spike bent his head, taking a long lick along Buffy’s neck.

“Spike! Anybody could walk in on us!” Buffy scrambled from under him, and raced to the door. She opened it cautiously, well aware that in the last few days, they’d become the poster children for voyeuristic sex.

There didn’t appear to be anybody in the house, but sure enough the front door was ajar. Streaking across the foyer, Buffy slammed the door shut. She grinned at the naughtiness of the whole situation and headed back to continue said debauchery with Spike.

Hank and Rupert sat dazed in the car, each too embarrassed to say anything.

“There’s a nice little pub around the corner from my house. Scotch is the only thing that will fix this.”

“God, I hope so.” Hank answered morosely. He turned the car on, and tried to banish the memory of his baby and Giles’ baby and what they were doing.

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To be continued