Chapter 18: Aches and Pains
Buffy awoke to the feel of a long, cool cock slipping inside her. She let out a little murmur of appreciation and wrapped her leg back around past Spike’s thigh. Neither of them was in a hurry, still drowsy from their naps, and they rocked together slowly, allowing the pleasure to creep up upon them.
Buffy sighed when he hand reached around her to cup her breast. He lightly teased her tender mounds, sending her rocking over the edge.
“Spike…” His name was a mere whisper on her lips as a soul-satisfying climax surged through her.
Behind her, past Spike gasped at the way she squeezed him rhythmically, and his seed squirted deep within her in short, even bursts.
“Mmm…” he purred into the back of her shoulder, his eyes still tightly closed.
“Evenin’, luv.”
Buffy opened her eyes to see that her Spike was also stirring in front of her. She leaned forward to give him a quick wake up kiss.
“What time is it?” he asked, running his fingers through his disheveled platinum hair.
“Almost five-thirty,” she informed him, looking over his shoulder at the clock. “I guess that means we have to go soon…” She gave him a disappointed little pout.
“Scooby meeting awaits,” he agreed. “Oi, mate,” he turned his attention to past Spike, “you might want to take a shower. The smell an’ all…”
“Right,” past Spike got up, stretching like a great cat as he did so. “Which way?”
Her Spike pointed down a little nook in the wall, and past Spike padded off in search of the shower. It wasn’t long before they heard water running.
“You have a shower?!” Buffy exclaimed in disbelief.
“Nothin’ fancy,” he shrugged. “Jus’ a pipe in the wall, really…”
“I don’t suppose I could borrow it afterwards…?” she asked, feeling the stickiness between her legs. There was way too much vampire cum there for comfortable walking.
“Sure thing, luv,” he whispered, pulling her closer to him. “How’re you feelin’ this mornin’?”
“A little sore,” she winced slightly when she moved into his arms, “and a little chaffed…”
He gave her a shy little smile. “Feelin’ a bit achy myself, pet…but in a good way.”
“A very good way,” she returned his smile and pushed a few of his wild curls back into place.
She flinched a bit at the twinging in her shoulder.
“Here, let me help,” he said instantly.
She gratefully let him push her down onto her stomach and sighed in relief when his skilled hands began to knead away all the tension in her muscles.
“You make me feel so good…” she sighed softly.
He bent forward and gave the bite mark on her shoulder a light kiss. She shivered at his touch, but he didn’t pursue her arousal, instead continuing to give her the most delightful massage she’d ever had.
By the time he flipped her onto her back, her entire body had turned to jelly at his touch. She half expected him to crawl on top of her and ravish her – and half hoped as well – but he continued on in a purely professional manner, working on her inner thighs and helping to relieve some of the pain there.
“Better?” he finally asked.
“Mmm-hmm,” she agreed, lying back luxuriously against the pillows.
In the background, they heard the water turn off.
“Think I got the Slayer smell off…” past Spike commented, walking in on their relaxation time. He cocked his head curiously at the self-satisfied smile on present Spike’s face and the look of lazy contentment on Buffy’s.
“C’mon, luv. Shower’s open.”
Buffy reluctantly let her Spike pull her up to her feet. She didn’t even think to protest when he entered the small nook with her and turned on the water.
She squealed at the chill of the water, but soon grew accustomed to it.
In the meantime, Spike had lathered up her body with a bar of soap that was obviously stolen from a motel room. She rested her hands lightly on his shoulders, holding herself up, as he carefully cleaned up all the remnants on her thighs. His hands found their way to her rough curls but kept to their task, rubbing the white foam into her skin.
She whimpered at the touch of his hands and clutched him tighter. However, he merely moved on to wash himself off, much more quickly and roughly than he’d been with her.
She rinsed her body clean, and he soon joined her under the spray.
“No fair,” she finally whimpered when he began to rub shampoo – also stolen from a motel – into her hair.
“What’s no fair, pet?” he asked, his fingers gently massaging her scalp and getting out all the grime that had accumulated over the past day.
“You get to feel me up, but I don’t get to touch you,” she pouted.
“You wanna touch me,” he gave her his trademark smirk, “there’s nothin’ stoppin’ you, ducks.”
For perhaps the first time ever, that smirk didn’t make her just want to slap him silly. In fact, she found herself blushing terribly while laughing slightly in amusement at the same time.
Her hands took the opportunity given them and strayed all over his chest while he religiously followed one of the most sacred laws of civilized society: lather, rinse, repeat.
She finally backed off and threw her head back, allowing the cool water to wash out the last of the soap and slick her hair back at the same time. By the time she came up for air, he was pouring another dab of shampoo into his hand.
“Can I?” she asked, suddenly feeling oddly shy.
He looked up at her in surprise and then handed her the shampoo. “Sure, luv,” he agreed.
She eagerly scrubbed the suds into his silvery-white locks. He purred deep in his throat when her nails raked through his hair, cleaning out all the sweat and gel.
“I love your hair,” Buffy commented absentmindedly when he rinsed for the final time. “It’s so white and silky…”
He ducked his head sheepishly and muttered something poncy and Williamish, he was sure. In all truth, he conscious mind was otherwise occupied by the fact that she’d just said the l-word to him for the second time. This was remarkable progress…
“Mmm…” Buffy pulled him into a gentle embrace and stroked his clean hair rhythmically. “I don’t want to get out…”
He sighed and let his head rest against her shoulder for a minute, enjoying the feel of her pressed against him so intimately…
“I know, luv,” he finally said and backed away from her, shutting off the water, “but we’ve got important things to do.”
They made their way back to the main bedroom to find past Spike half-dressed and rubbing a towel roughly through his still damp peroxide locks.
“Here,” her Spike wrapped a fluffy white towel of the sort she’d never have expected him to have around her shoulders. She wondered whether it was also stolen from a motel room. “We’d best dry off an’ get dressed now,” he gave her a reluctant smile before he covered up that wonderful, slick body on his up with another towel.
* * *
“I keep telling you,” Anya said in exasperation, “they’re held up by the hot, sweaty sex. They’re not going to be here anytime soon.”
“Ack!” Xander exclaimed, clapping his hands over his ears. “I’m not listening. La la la la la…”
Dawn rolled her eyes. “And they treat me like the kid,” she mumbled under her breath before snatching up another slice of pizza.
“Maybe I could do a tracking spell or—” Willow paused in mid-sentence and gave Tara a sheepish look. “No spells,” she reminded herself for the umpteenth time.
Tara gave her a reassuring little smile. “I’m sure they’ll be here,” she addressed the group. “Sunset was just half an hour ago. They’re probably just not in a hurry ‘cause they don’t know—”
“Don’t know what?” Buffy asked, walking in the door right at that second. “Oh, pizza!” she squealed in delight and practically dove into the food.
“Jeez, pig much?” Dawn watched her sister wolf down an entire slice of pepperoni in three seconds flat.
“Yeah, she already downed about a month’s supply of Wheetabix,” Spike agreed from the doorway, taking out a cigarette and rolling it between his lips.
“And that stuff is nasty,” Buffy retorted through a mouth-full of cheese. “How can you eat that crap?”
“Tastes good with blood,” the other Spike commented, sitting on the counter beside his duplicate.
“Uh…” Xander looked nervously back and forth between the two to them. “Which is the one that can rip my throat out?” he asked worriedly.
“Forget about that,” Willow cut him off. “Buffy, we have a problem.”
“Oh?” Buffy was on her third slice by now. Who knew that entertaining two Spikes would take so much energy?
“We’ve had a nerd break-out,” Willow nodded seriously.
“And they stole the pommel horse,” Anya added, irritated. “The Watchers’ Council will reimburse you for that, right?” she continued anxiously. “And they’ll pay to have the scuff marks it left behind polished up, and—”
“Ahn,” Xander cut her off before she began drawing up more damage reports and stuffing them in Buffy’s face.
“What do you mean, they broke out?” Buffy asked in disbelief.
“They snuck out the back way some time between the post-lunch dash and closing time,” Anya clarified perkily enough. “Is it OK if I ask about your orgasms now?”
“No!” everyone exclaimed in perfect unison.
“Fine,” Anya sulked under her breath. “Just trying to discuss things we’ve got in common, is all. See if I care that I never make any friends…”
“Do we know where they went?” Buffy wearily asked Willow.
The redhead shook her head. “Sorry, Buffy. We could try to track them down…” The open-ended statement made it perfectly clear that doing so would be extremely difficult.
Buffy shook her head. “We have more important matters to worry about right now. Besides, I doubt they’re up to anything so soon anyway…”
* * *
“Ow!” Andrew exclaimed. “You did that on purpose, you penis!”
“Did not!” Jonathan retorted maturely. “You’d be fine if you just quit squirming.”
“Ow!” Warren suddenly exclaimed. “That’s it. Give me that.”
“No,” Jonathan tried to pull away from him. “You’re going to hit my thumb again.”
“Am not!” Warren countered. “Ha! Got it!” he exclaimed in delight when he managed to pry the hammer out of Jonathan’s fingers. “Now, I’ll show you how it’s done…”
“Ow!” Andrew cried out again when the backlash of the hammer hit him in the elbow. “That hurts!”
“Give it back to me,” Jonathan insisted.
“No,” Warren wiggled about on the floor so that the hammer was far from Jonathan’s grasp.
“Hey, guys,” Andrew commented.
“Gimme!” Jonathan repeated.
“No!” Warren stuck out his tongue.
“Guys…” Andrew persisted in trying to get their attention.
“Gimme!”
“No!”
“Gimme!”
“No!”
“Guys!” Andrew finally had to shout to be heard.
“Yeah?” Warren and Jonathan looked at him curiously.
“Well,” he began nervously, “I don’t think that hammer is ever going to break these chains…”
“Sure, it will,” Warren insisted.
“No, it won’t,” Andrew rolled his eyes. “And even if it does, wouldn’t using the welding torch be faster?”
Warren and Jonathan blinked.
“All right, where did I leave the torch?” Warren asked, scanning their basement lair and discovering nothing but junk.
“I think it might be under the couch,” Jonathan commented.
“No, it’s on top of the fridge,” Andrew said.
“I bet it’s under the plans on the desk,” Warren put in his own two cents.
“So,” Jonathan said, “let’s get it.”
They all dove for their respective guesses as to the mystery location at the same time. After about one foot, they’d reached the limits of the chains and were all sent flying back to the center.
“Ow!” Andrew said again when his head collided with the pommel horse. “What are we going to do with this thing anyway?”
“Forget about it,” Warren said. “We need to find that torch. Desk first this time, people.”
“Right.”
* * *
“So you can send past Spike back to where he came from?” Buffy tried to summarize the excessive magical gibberish that had just been thrown at her by the two overly-enthusiastic Wiccas.
“Definitely,” Tara nodded eagerly. “But…”
“There’s a ‘but’?” Buffy winced slightly in anticipation.
“Not a magical ‘but’,” Willow hastily amended. “More like a ‘oh no, we messed up the universe’ ‘but’.”
“Do I even want to know?” Buffy asked sarcastically, nibbling at the last slice of pizza.
“The problem is that past Spike remembers everything from this time,” Anya decided to stop all the dramatic pauses and omens of doom before they damped her mood. “If he goes back, he’ll know everything that happens in the future, and it will completely ruin the timeline so that this might never exist. In fact…” she began warming to her subject, “maybe it will change things so that I never lose my powers.” A little smile brightened up her face before it fell. “But then I would never have met Xander, and I would miss out on many, many pleasing orgasms…”
“Such a tragedy that would be,” present Spike mumbled under his breath.
“You’re right,” Anya agreed with him solemnly, completely missing the sarcasm in his tone. “We just have to do the other spell, too, then.”
“ ‘Other spell’?” Buffy raised an eyebrow.
“Er…yeah…” Willow’s face turned a bit red. “You remember that Tabula Rasa spell I did?”
“The one that nearly got us killed because we couldn’t remember how to kill vampires?” Buffy was not liking this idea one bit.
“We think we need to cast it on past Spike before we send him back,” Tara said apologetically. “I-I’ll be very careful, b-but we need to erase all his memories of this.”
“Hold on there a minute!” past Spike suddenly leapt up from his position on the counter. “’m not havin’ any Witches messin’ around with my head.”
“’S my head, too,” present Spike agreed, his eyes narrowing. “Goin’ through that once was bad enough…”
“I won’t cast it if you don’t agree to it,” Tara hastily amended.
“Well, I don’t,” past Spike crossed his arms in front of himself defensively.
“But then we can’t send him back,” Willow said in dismay. “We have no idea what kinds of problems this could cause…”
“I’m not doing it without permission,” Tara repeated.
“I-I know,” Willow gulped slightly at the accusing looks she was getting, “and you’re absolutely right in doing that, but…”
Buffy sighed when she realized they’d reached an impasse. “Can I talk to you?” she gestured to past Spike and the training room.
Past Spike quirked an eyebrow her way.
So did her Spike.
“Alone,” Buffy clarified, giving her lover an apologetic smile.
Past Spike shrugged and trudged over the training room, eyeing the two Wiccas warily.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Buffy said softly before turning to follow, “but I’d recommend trying to come up with a back-up plan…”