Author’s Notes: This is a gratuitous feel-good fic, be warned. ~_^ Basically, it’s my Spuffy li’l heart rewriting the end of ‘The Girl In Question’. Because I so needed a different ending on that one. So I wrote it. So there.
Elevator doors really shouldn’t be able to open vehemently. Or slam shut. But, for this visitor, they miraculously made an exception. Just over five feet of blonde Slayer stormed into the Wolfram & Hart offices of Los Angeles, death and destruction blazing in hazel eyes.
Abruptly, she came to a stop before the front desk, only briefly noting the surprise that she recognized the secretary. “Where. Is. He?” she ground out angrily between her teeth. And then, belatedly, added in a much more friendly voice. “Hi, Harmony. How’s the evil law-firm thing working out for you?”
Harmony gulped. “Buffy! Fine, thank you,” she squeaked. “A-And about that whole kidnapping your sister thing… I really just think we should let bygones be bygones and—”
“Where?” Buffy demanded, hands clenched to dangerous fists.
“In the office?” Harmony scootched her chair back in a vain attempt to get out of killing range.
“Thanks, Harmony,” Buffy replied with a falsely sincere smile on her face. “Nice talking to you again.” Instantly, all that considerable Slayer rage was redirected at the office door.
Harmony breathed a sigh of relief. “You, too.” She winced when the door was kicked in and, with a sigh, called the maintenance office…
Angel blinked up in shocked surprise as Buffy burst abruptly into his office. “How did you—?”
“I’ll chew you out for having me followed later,” Buffy cut him off abruptly. “Now, Spike. Where is he?”
It was at that moment that she suddenly realized that the leather chair facing Angel’s desk wasn’t as unoccupied as she’d first thought. A peroxide blonde head peeked over the back from where he’d been slouching in the upholstery.
“Slayer?” Spike asked in wide-eyed disbelief.
At that, the dam finally burst, and with three angry strides, she was upon him, fists clenched in the leather lapels of his coat. She yanked him up to his feet roughly and practically growled. “You let me think you were dead!” she exclaimed furiously. “You. Complete. Asshole!” The last word was a high-pitched shriek that caused Angel to cover his ears. Spike, unfortunately, had no use of his hands what with the Slayer half yanking him off the ground and had to settle for flinching.
Buffy turned back to Angel then, polite smile on her face once more. “Is there somewhere we could go to talk where we won’t be disturbed?” she asked sweetly.
Angel just nodded numbly, giving Spike a sympathetic look. “Conference Room Two. Just down the hall.”
“Thank you,” Buffy replied with that false politeness before she dragged Spike out of the office by his duster.
Angel frowned and wondered if he’d actually heard that whimpered “help” from his grandchilde or just imagined it…
“Look, uh, Slayer… Buffy,” Spike tried to defend himself as he was forcibly shoved in the direction of the empty conference room. “See, ‘s not like I was tryin’ to hide it from you… Well, not at first, anyway. Was kinda stuck as a ghost for a while there, and then by the time I got myself whole again—”
Buffy slammed the door shut behind them with an air of finality. “I don’t want to hear it,” she said, deceptively calm.
Cold fear swept through him, and he took a step back. “Right,” he agreed in a voice so soft it was almost a whimper.
“You are going to listen to what I have to say,” she informed him matter-of-factly, arms crossed over her chest in that way that let him know he was in deep trouble.
He nodded numbly.
“First off,” she began ticking off on her fingers, “ghosts don’t know how to use phones?”
“Didn’t wanna bud into your new life when—”
“Second,” she cut him off loudly, ignoring his protests, “you left me thinking for almost a year that you were gone forever, and I’d never see you…” She trailed off abruptly with something that sounded almost like a sob, but managed to recover her composure.
“Oh, luv,” he said softly, voice pained for her now.
She still wasn’t about to let him interrupt, however. “Third, you tell Andrew of all people, but not me?” she asked angrily. “I was just sitting there with my fond nostalgia, and he knew all the time, but you told him not to tell me?!”
“Y-You were movin’ on with your life,” he insisted, “and you din’t need—”
“And, finally,” she fixed him with infuriated eyes, “I finally tell you that I love you, and all you can come up with was ‘No, you don’t, but thanks for saying it’? You. Complete. Jerk!”
“‘Asshole’ was worse, luv,” he pointed out.
She let out a little exclamation of frustration and stalked over to him. “Do you still love me?” she demanded in a deadly tone.
“’Course,” he insisted vehemently. “’ll always love you, but I know you’ve got this new guy and—”
“Spike?” she said in a tight voice.
“Shut up.” And with that, she launched herself at him.
Spike gasped in amazement as hot Slayer lips covered his, kissing him desperately, roughly demanding him to kiss her back. He did so with a little groan, and she took advantage of his parted lips to thrust her tongue inside and plunder his mouth.
Her fingers twined roughly in his hair, and she leapt up into his arms, legs wrapped about his waist. He staggered back under her weight, and together they fell back onto the large oval table in the center of the conference room.
Even though Buffy landed on top of him, the force of their fall made the breath rush from her body, and she was forced to pull back to take a gasping breath of air. “God,” she whispered, squeezing her thighs around him and savoring the feel of his hard body between her legs once more. Slowly, she began to place soft kisses up and down his face. “I thought I’d never see you again,” she whispered, tears of joy and sorrow on her cheeks. “Thought I’d never be able to touch you, kiss you, tell you…” She gulped, pulled back, and looked into very surprised blue eyes. “I love you so much, Spike,” she insisted, her voice shaking. “Please, believe me. Please… Don’t tell me it’s too late,” she begged.
He gulped and tried to find his own voice. Because Big Bads did not get choked up with emotion. “I believe you,” he finally whispered in a voice that sounded much more like William than Spike. “I-I love you, too. Was just so afraid—”
“Shh, I know,” she cut him off gently, placing another quick kiss on those full lips she’d dreamt about for months. They were softer than she’d remembered, sweeter. The sudden realization that she would’ve slowly forgotten what his kisses felt like hit her, and a little wail of despair escaped her lips. “I’m never losing you again,” she informed him firmly, lying her body down on top of his, head tucked under his chin and arms squeezing him tightly.
He sighed contentedly, breathing in her scent. “So, what brings on the sudden concern, luv?” he inquired casually, fingers gently stroking her hair.
“Andrew slipped,” she confessed, lips brushing his throat. “Mentioned you and Angel had been in town. I couldn’t believe my ears, had to see you for myself…” One hand sneaked its way up under his t-shirt. “Feel for myself,” she added slyly.
“Wicked woman,” he chuckled. “If ‘d known you wanted…” he trailed off shyly, embarrassed at what a complete ponce he was making of himself.
“Ugh.” She just shook her head at him. “Remind me why I always fall for the idiotic ones again?” she asked rhetorically, thumb playing casually with his bellybutton under his shirt.
“Oi!” he complained. “You’re the one who’s off enjoyin’ a night on the town with my dear old enemy,” he insisted vehemently, pointing an accusing finger. “No reason you should want me when—”
“When what?” she cut him off angrily. “I’m spending all my time with the first good Spike replacement I could find?”
He blinked at her in disbelief. “Spike replacement?” he repeated incredulously.
“Well, yeah,” she said in her perfect ‘duh’ voice. “Handsome, mysterious immortal with ambiguous morality… Why’d you think I was with him?”
“’Cause he’s better at it ‘n me?” Spike practically kicked himself for giving the honest answer there.
She smiled at him softly. “Yeah, right,” she retorted, planting a gentle kiss on his brow. “Like there’s anyone better than you…”
Spike couldn’t help but puff up at that. “And Peaches?”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “OK, so maybe the Immortal’s a bit of a cheap Angel knock-off, too,” she conceded.
Spike frowned, then grinned. “Not what I was lookin’ for, but it’ll do. Should feel sorry for the bloke, I s’pose…”
Buffy snorted. “Are you kidding? He’s tossed enough women to the side over the years. About time he realized he’s only second fiddle…” Her hand began to move further up under his shirt until she’d have to get up off of him to continue. She listened to his chest vibrate with a low purr beneath her and smiled. “Spike?” she asked in lazy contentment.
“Yeah, luv?” he purred.
“When Angel said we wouldn’t be disturbed here…?” she trailed off.
“Gonna have your wicked way with me?” he inquired with a grin.
She blushed. “Unless your place is…”
“No one ‘ll bother us,” he promised.
“Good.” Her hands instantly went to his belt and began unfastening it. “I want to kiss every inch of you, taste you all over again, surround you…” She yanked out the belt and began fumbling at the buttons of his jeans. “That okay?” she asked, sounding strangely insecure.
He couldn’t help but smile. His Slayer, despite her many other delightful talents, had never been much for talking dirty. He knew what she meant well enough, though. “You really need to ask?” he retorted with a smirk, folding his arms behind his head and making himself comfortable.
Buffy rolled her eyes at his confident demeanor. “Arrogant much?” she demanded before softening once more. “And yeah,” she answered his question. “I kinda do. I want to make you mine again, so it’s generally a good idea to check if you still are. Mine, I mean.” Her cheeks flushed, and she looked pointedly down. And, oops, that was where she’d just gotten his pants open. Way to go, Buffy. Staring at Spike’s erection is always the best way to fight off embarrassment, Sarcastic!Voice butted in.
One cool hand reached up to cup her burning cheek, and passionate blue eyes entreated her. “Always yours, pet,” he promised, sitting up to kiss her softly.
They shared a brief, chaste kiss before Buffy caught his shoulders and slammed him down on the table once more. “Uh-uh, none of that,” she teased, laughter dancing in her eyes once more. It always amazed her how this man could change her mood so quickly – passionate, amused, somber, and happy all within heartbeats of each other. God, she loved him… “You,” she informed him sternly, “are just going to lie back so that I can make you mine.”
Spike was more than happy to comply.
Slowly, Buffy leaned in. He wasn’t completely hard yet, which was unusual when she was around, but she always enjoyed it. Loved feeling him swell in her mouth, watching as he filled with desire for her…
She caught his semi-erect cock in her mouth and sucked her cheeks in, sliding her lips up from the base to the very tip. He grew within her mouth, and she adjusted to accommodate him as he grew thicker and harder. By the time the head escaped her lips with a little pop, he was achingly hard and full.
She pressed one quick kiss to the weeping slit at the tip of him, before abandoning his erection to tend to his balls instead. She took each sphere of soft, sensitive flesh into her mouth in turn, rolling him about in her mouth, savoring every whimper of pleasure she elicited from his throat.
“Fuck… Oh, Buffy… Please, just… Oh god… Stop…no, don’t stop… Just… More!”
She left his balls with a final lick, and a grin lit up her face. Oh, he was still hers in every way, completely at her mercy. And she planned to show him none. After she was through with him, there’d be no way he’d ever doubt her love for him again…
Her tongue found the soft spot right between his balls and the base of his cock, and she licked a long, slow trail up the underside of him, following throbbing veins where she could find them. She still knew his body so well, knew exactly what made him scream. And he was already doing his fair share of screaming, even though she’d only begun.
Soft little whimpers escaped his lips as her tongue circled his head, knowing too well what he wanted but making him wait… “B-Buffy…”
“You want me to stop?” she couldn’t help but tease.
“No. Oh, please no.”
She smiled up at him, made sure he caught the wicked gleam in her eye. “Mine,” she insisted vehemently before parting her lips and slowly sliding down his most sensitive flesh.
“Yours…” he whispered in agreement, fighting to keep his hips from moving. Her pace was so sweet, but so agonizingly slow, too.
She spotted his dilemma and placed one hand on each sculptured hipbone, keeping him in place as she made love to him with her mouth. He tasted like some exotic spice she’d been secretly longing for for months, and his soft moans and gasps were music to her ears. It was starting to really fully sink in now. This was Spike, here, alive…or undead, beneath her, inside her, hers again…
Spike’s eyes squeezed shut tight at the intensity of that moment. It was as if every thought that touched her mind flowed through him with the tenderness and reverence her lips were bestowing upon his dick. It had never been like this before, even that last time they’d made love and…
“Love you…” The words came out in a hoarse rasp and were the last thing he managed to do before he lost all control. That moment of perfect vulnerability and trust, and he gave it to her, like always, without even the slightest hesitation.
He felt the pleasure explode along all the nerve endings of his body, felt his balls clench up and then release, felt her mouth still caressing him, drinking him in, making him part of her…
It was too much.
Buffy drank down the last of his pleasure, shaking at the intimacy they’d just shared. This was the first time they’d truly been together, in a way. The first time she’d let him see the love in her eyes, hear it from her lips. She’d thought it wouldn’t make a difference; she’d been wrong.
Licking him clean, she began trailing kisses up his body once more, whispers of love and devotion on her lips. Strange how easily they came now. But, then, she’d never thought of Spike as mortal before, never imagined that the two of them might not have all the time in the world…
He purred beneath her, but didn’t stir. It took her a moment to realize that he’d passed out from the pleasure, and she rolled her eyes. “You are not going to leave me here all horny and alone,” she informed him stubbornly, taking advantage of the brief interval to strip.
Folding her clothes over one of the chairs, she knelt down beside him again and poked him pointedly in the chest.
“Time for Sleeping Beauty to wake up,” she teased.
He smiled at that. “Can’t. Need a kiss before I can wake up, if I recall correctly.”
She snorted but leaned in. “God, you’re infuriating. You drive me completely out of my mind, make me wild and…” She kissed him, long, deep, and hard.
He purred into her mouth and rose with her as she sat up so that their lips were still joined the entire time. “Have I ever told you how amazin’ you are, luv?” he whispered, lips nibbling at her ear.
“Yeah, but feel free to show me again,” she replied, pushing at his duster. “You can start by getting naked.”
He grinned and sat back, doing a little striptease for her, torturing with how slowly his bare chest was revealed. She couldn’t take it anymore when he got to his boots and tackled him, planting kisses up and down his chest while he tried to work around the distraction and finish disrobing.
Buffy caught his duster where he’d removed it and laid it out of the table, so they had something to lie on. “Top or bottom?” she teased lightly, stretching out on his black leather and undulating slowly.
A low growl escaped his lips. “Neither,” he retorted with an enigmatic smile.
Buffy looked at him skeptically at that. “Whatever you want, baby,” she agreed, “although I kinda wanted to see you our first time back together. Make it special and all…”
“You will,” he agreed, lying beside her and taking her hand in his, placing a soft, almost elegant kiss on the back of her knuckles.
She shivered. “I’m not craning my neck around,” she insisted vehemently, confused at what he was suggesting.
Spike laughed, a truly delighted laugh that caused little crinkles to form at the edges of his eyes, and made the blue of his gaze dance with merriment. She fell in love with him just a little bit more in that minute, something she’d thought was impossible.
But he was still laughing at her. “Jerk,” she sulked, crossing her arms over her bare breasts defiantly.
“Don’t be like that, luv,” his tone quickly turned apologetic, and his tongue flicked out to taste her shoulder. “Was just thinkin’ we should try this as equals for once.”
She loosened her grip and slipped her arms around his back, letting him guide her into place so that they each lay on their sides, facing each other. “Sounds perfect.”
“That’s my girl,” he smiled softly, catching the back of her thigh with one hand and wrapping it up and over his hip so that he had access to her core.
Her cheeks flushed slightly. “Yours,” she agreed, hand slipping between them to take hold of him, guide him inside of her.
Their foreheads pressed together, eyes shut tight, as he slowly slipped within her. It had been far too long for the both of them, and it took her inner muscles a few seconds to adjust, to accommodate him. But she was very wet and, in the end, her body remembered his all too well.
“Oh god,” Buffy cried out when, with one final push, Spike sheathed himself inside her up to the hilt.
“OK, pet?” he murmured against her lips.
“Amazing,” she smiled, beginning to rock with him, building up to a slow, fiery passion. Sweat beaded her brow, dampening the platinum curls that pressed against her forehead.
“Missed you so much,” he gasped, thrusting deeper within her now. Her walls clenched around him rhythmically, trapping him inside, encasing him with liquid velvet.
“Never thought I’d…” she trailed off, overcome with emotion, and kissed him instead, desperate to convey all the feelings she couldn’t put to words through the union of their mouths.
He held her tightly to him as they kissed, one hand slipping between them to fondle her sensitive nipples before trailing down the flat of her stomach, finally finding her swollen nubbin and twisting, caressing, stimulating…
“Spike!” a shriek of ecstasy escaped her lips as she came. Her inner muscles squeezed around him like a vise, holding him deep inside her as she rode out her pleasure.
The feel of her tight and wet and writhing in his arms became too much for him, and his pleasure exploded from his body with a triumphant roar, his come flooding her womb and marking her as his.
Their bodies wrapped tight around each other, shaking with pleasure and release and something much, much more than merely the physical. Ecstasy flowed through them and around in soft waves, and those few moments seemed to stretch out to infinity…
And then Buffy found herself back in her own body, and she suddenly remembered she needed to breathe again. Five long, needy gasps of air later, she was able to speak once more. “You realize the entire office must’ve heard that,” she murmured against his chest, snuggling in as close as she could get.
“Couldn’t be helped,” he insisted with a contented grin.
“Nope,” she agreed with a satisfied smile of her own. One finger reached up to trace the sharp line of his cheekbone. “But we should probably, y’know, get dressed and find some place more comfy to finish this. How far was your place again?”
Spike winced. “Hope you’re up for some cramped quarters,” he apologized.
She shook her head. “Nope. I want a big bed where we can tussle about all night,” she informed him. “Which means my hotel room with the queen-sized bed is the winner.” Her fingers traced the edge of his hipbone lovingly. “There’s a Jacuzzi, too,” she informed him slyly.
A wicked smirk curved his lips at that tantalizing possibility. “Ravish the Slayer in her own bed,” he agreed, nibbling at her collarbone, “check.”
“Seduce the sexy vampire,” she retorted, “check.”
“That just leaves the clothes,” he sighed.
She pouted. “Can’t we just teleport naked into the Jacuzzi? I mean, what good is an evil law-firm if it can’t even do that?”
He snickered. “Not much,” he agreed, reluctantly reaching for his pants.
With a reluctant sigh, she reached for her clothes first. “Clothes are evil,” she concluded.
“’S always been my philosophy,” he teased.
She looked over her shoulder at him and almost whimpered in despair when he pulled up his jeans. Anything that kept her from ogling that tight butt of his had to be evil…
“You in town long?” he inquired casually, sounding shy now that matters had been settled between them.
“Only can spare a few days,” she answered apologetically, slipping her blouse over her head and turning to watch him as he pulled on his duster once more. “But I could always use some extra help for the apocalypse we’re expecting next week.”
He looked at her in disbelief. “There’s an apocalypse next week, and you flew halfway around the globe for a bit of slap’n’tickle? Have you gone completely daft?”
“Nope,” she said smugly, tracing the muscles of his chest through the fabric of his shirt. “Just know that I have to take care of the things that are important first.” With a seductive smile, she turned away and headed for the hall. The blatant crowd outside fled as the door opened, revealing that the bleached pair was – regrettably – completely decent now.
Spike trailed after her, a subtle grin on his face. He threw Harm a dirty look at her mumbled “Slayer-loving freak” when they passed her desk and followed Buffy into the elevator. Watched her hit the down button. They shared an awkward smile, before Spike ventured, “Would one of these ‘important’ things consist of makin’ out in the elevator?”
“God, yes,” Buffy agreed, wrapping her arms around his neck and plundering his lips. “How ‘bout my offer?” she whispered against him, lips brushing pale flesh. “It could be like old times: Me, you, apocalypse…”
“We’ve got one of our own comin’ up,” he said apologetically.
“Mmm,” she sighed. “They seem to be multiplying.”
“Evil li’l buggers,” he joked.
She grinned. “How about after we save the world, we go away together?” she suggested, fingers trailing down his chest before pointedly hooking into the belt-loops of his jeans.
“Got yourself a deal there, luv,” he purred against her. “Just…try not to get yourself killed this time.”
“You, too,” she teased back.
“Why would I?” he countered as the elevator doors opened and she led him to their new temporary love-nest. “Got something to live for now.”
She smiled that bright, loving smile back at him. “I had something to live for all along,” she retorted, “even if he was too dense to realize it.” She frowned.
“Hey!” he protested loudly, turning several heads as the two of them left Wolfram & Hart. Fresh comeback on his lips, fresh retort on hers, and plenty of time ahead of them to enjoy every second of their ongoing battle…