9.
A/N: Yep, get ready for the shaking up of things. Now is the time for me to scamper away from strict canon astride my valiant battle bunny who now has a name, Roderigo, and a suit of bunny armor.
It soon became apparent that the ravishing portion of their reunion would have to have a rain check. It was hard to maintain the seduction vibe when one of the partners continued to yawn herself to distraction. Spike directed Buffy gently toward the narrow twin bed and eased off her jacket. When he pulled her jeans off her legs Buffy began to burrow mindlessly into his bed. The prospect of clean sheets and a sweet smelling pillow was a daunting adversary Spike was powerless against.
“I’m sorry,” Buffy yawned a lopsided grin. “I can’t seem to keep my eyes open.” Her weighted eyelids shut on cue. This prompted a delayed giggle.
“Better give you something worth seeing, then, yeah?” Spike stood at an angle and began peeling off his t-shirt. Unfortunately, his precision moves were wasted on the listless audience of one.
“Mmm…sexy…” The words tangled on Buffy’s tongue. Somewhere inside her mind she made the attempt to battle the specter of unconsciousness but to no avail.
A change in tactics was necessary. Spike crawled delicately onto the bed and lay down beside her. “Hey, sleepy head. You’re missing out on my beautiful bod. See? Pecs to die for.” Spike managed a few slow muscle man poses that looked a little odd given his reclined position. “And kisses. I’ve got kisses, free for the taking.”
“Mmm…yummy…kissy…muscles…” Buffy nodded and drew her fingers drunkenly across his torso. She was definitely settling down for the night.
“Buffy?” Spike sent his own fingers on a reconnaissance mission over soft Buffy curves and pliant angles. All he got in response was a dreamy sigh and a dopey grin. His dreams of reconciliation never featured the possibility of Buffy being too sleepy to participate. If there was one thing that was not negotiable, it was Buffy’s participation. That was a must and the more enthusiastic, the better.
Spike propped himself up on his elbow and looked into her sleeping face. What a difference a day made. What were once only dreams of Buffy’s return were now solidified, unconscious and almost naked in his bed. It didn’t matter that she was fast asleep and making the sexiest little nasal squeaks he’d ever heard. She was here. She wanted to be here.
Sleep was no barrier to lovers such as these.
“Mfflng unhhh…”
“That’s easy for you to say, love.” Spike stared at the ceiling and considered his options. Continuing alone, as it were, wasn’t one of them. With a sigh Spike drew the covers up around them and stretched up to reach the light switch. He settled back down with his head on the pillow beside Buffy’s.
“Sweet dreams,” he whispered and kissed her forehead. Buffy grunted and nuzzled closer.
*
Spike lay back against a wide expanse of silk pillows. Angel stood behind him dressed in a clown costume with pancake make-up and an exaggerated smile painted on his glum face. He held a long, curved feathery fan that he used to fan Spike in his reclined position. A short distance away a band performed aggressive punk music under glaring lights. After each song a crowd could be heard roaring their approval yet the vast room held only an audience of two.
“I’m sorry I ever doubted you,” Angel spoke in mollifying tones as he dutifully fanned Spike. “Buffy is much better off with you, the man who stayed and loved her and not me, the one who left and yet still held her captive with emotional manipulations.”
“Bloody right!” Spike agreed whole-heartedly.
“See through gauzy scarves?” Buffy stood naked before Spike, draped in a few strategically placed scarves. “Spike, I’m not wearing any underwear. The band can see my butt. I don’t want Sid Vicious staring at my bum. He keeps wiggling his tongue at me. It’s creepy.”
“Right.” Spike picked up the television remote control beside him and pointed it at the band. With the press of a button Sid Vicious and his bass disappeared. “Better?”
“Much.” Buffy scrambled across the pillows and nestled beside him. “How may I please you, Master?” she cooed. “Your wish is my…command? God, Spike, this dialogue is ridiculous. Harem girl is so cliché. You need some good fantasies. Chain mail is sexy. Why don’t we try that?” Buffy’s hardly there costume immediately transformed into a sinuous skin of chain mail. “Or…I know!” Buffy angled herself into a seductive pose as her costume changed once again into a chicken suit complete with feet and beak. “Feathers are so underrated.”
“Uh-uh-uhhhh.” Spike waggled his index finger at her and reiterated the rules once again. “My dream, my rules, love. Got it? Besides, you’ll always be my sexy little slave girl.” He picked up the remote and aimed it at Buffy. Her costume changed back into delicate scarves.
“Okay,” Buffy shrugged.
“Would you care for some hot chocolate?” Joyce Summers stood before them wearing a flowing white satin robe with majestic angel’s wings and holding a tray. “I put in some extra marshmallows, just the way you like it, Spike.”
“Ta, Joyce.” Spike took his mug. “You’re a love.”
“Caramel twizzler for you honey.” Joyce offered the tray to Buffy.
“Yummy!” Buffy took her Winnie the Pooh mug and retrieved the melting caramel stick.
“By the way, sweetheart, I thought you made a very cute chicken.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“You kids have fun, okay?” Joyce disappeared into a shower of sparkles.
*
When Spike opened his eyes two things became immediately apparent; not only was Buffy wide awake and staring down at him, she was also now naked under the covers.
“Hi there,” she smiled at him.
“Hello.”
“Not sleepy anymore,” she announced.
“I can see that.”
She shifted her body over his. “And kinda naked too.”
“Uh huh.” Spike simply agreed with her.
“Jeesh, try to control your excitement.”
“Excitement’s not the problem, love. I just want to be sure you’re sure about this.” If there was such a thing as a platonic naked hip caress, Spike accomplished it.
“What do you want me to do? Cluck like a chicken and wave sparklers? Naked girl, teeny weenie bed,” Buffy slid her hand over an unambiguous location. “Willing vampire. Oh, make that very willing vampire.”
Spike’s odd dream revisited him. “Did you just say cluck like a chicken?”
“You look yummy,” Buffy ignored his question and began to nibble at his lips. “You feel yummy.”
“You too.” Spike allowed himself a mild response.
“Things are going to get crazy, Spike, because they always do but we don’t need to get crazy. Not anymore.”
“We don’t.”
“Because we’ve got this.” Buffy rubbed the tip of her nose against his.
“We do.”
“And it’s not going away. I won’t let it. Not again.”
“Okay.” Despite the obvious physiological hubbub clamoring within Spike, he remained remarkably calm.
“I need you. I need to be with you and I’ll work on the bitchy parts, I promise.”
“Don’t go making promises, love. I like you the way you are. Always did.”
“Well, I like you too. Can we stop talking now?”
“Fine by me.”
“Oh, one more thing. The jeans have got to go.”
“I’ll get right on that.” Spike’s hands sprang into action.
“Not quick enough!” Buffy sassed and disappeared under the covers.
*
Later that morning, Buffy awoke to find a naked vampire wrapped firmly around her, his face buried deep in the pillow at the crook of her neck. Buffy looked down the tangle of limbs and twisted sheets. She needed to move and stretch. Spike’s bed was too narrow and too lumpy and his sleeping position was beginning to inhibit proper respiration but she couldn’t find the strength to move just yet. Tied up in a Spike knot was exactly what she needed. A shower wouldn’t hurt either because Spike knots were mostly of the sticky and sweaty variety.
She shifted a little, hoping to slide out from under Spike and not disturb him. Her movements prompted Spike’s own unconscious readjustment. After that it was too late for subtleties.
“Elbow! Elbow!” Buffy winced at the unexpected stab. “Ow! That’s my boob.”
“Buffy?” Spike roused from groggy sleep as she slipped from the bed.
“I’m going to take a shower and make myself all irresistible for you. Go back to sleep.”
“Mmm…” Already more relaxed than he’d been in months, Spike easily slipped back into his dream. Angel was in stocks and Buffy was throwing cream pies at him with unerring accuracy.
A short time later Buffy sat on the edge of the bed and drew her fingers through Spike’s hair. “Are you still sleeping?”
“Mmhh,” Spike mumbled a throaty reply. “You have a way of tuckering me out.”
“Um, Don’t take this the wrong way, but I need to go out. I’ve got some stuff to do today.”
“Stuff? What stuff?” Spike sharpened his attention.
“This does qualify as an actual day off, you know,” she replied plainly. “And it’s been a while since I’ve had one of those. Who knows, I may get all giddy and start doing cartwheels down Rodeo Drive. What’s on your plate?”
Spike’s lips quirked to the side. “Besides you in whipped cream with cherries on top?”
“Cherries give me hives. Besides that.”
“I was going to meet Charlie later but those plans are entirely flexible.”
“Meet at Wolfram and Hart?”
“Yeah.”
“I could meet you there later. We could do lunch. I’m thinking they probably have an evil cafeteria or something. Don’t the forces of darkness need three square meals a day?”
“It’s a regular cafeteria,” Spike explained. They made passing spicy wings. “Only, don’t order the chowder. It qualifies as evil.” He paused for a thought. “You understand there’s a good chance we’ll run into Angel. He tends to pop up all over the building for no good reason.”
“Not a problem for me. You?”
“Not a one.”
“Sounds good. So…is 1:00 too early?”
*
“…gorgeous day in the city. We’ve got Pink on deck for another uninterrupted six-pack and at the top of the hour another lucky listener will bob for big bucks! So let’s get this party st–” Harmony reached over and clicked off her radio.
The one thing that surprised Harmony about working for Wolfram and Hart was how easy it was to transition into being a morning person. It was something that she hadn’t expected ever happening as a vampire. Even back in high school despite her impeccable appearance and life altering rebukes, Harmony didn’t really wake up until half way through second period. Mornings weren’t her thing. The Wolfram and Hart experience changed all that. She was a self-starter now, motivated toward achieving the greater corporate good or evil or whatever Angel pulled out of his hat at any given moment. It was all about being the best facilitator possible.
She rolled over and met the whiskered nose of Mr. Pussy Galore snuggled on her pillow.
“Good Morning!” Harmony smiled at her tiny friend.
She sprang out of the bed followed closely by her adoring companion. Harmony set about her morning routine of showering and drying her hair. Mr. Pussy sat primly on the pink terry toilet seat cover and watched as the object of his affection applied a frightening amount of product and worked it through her long hair. The whir of the hair dryer filled the tiny bathroom as Harmony brushed, smoothed and styled until she was satisfied with the effort. After a bout of fang brushing, flossing and gargling, Harmony applied her make-up expertly and unerringly.
In no time she was prepared for the day in a fitted satin shirt and pink fringed mini skirt with a chain belt. She chose a pair of dangerously high heeled sandals with rhinestone studded straps to complete the outfit.
“There,” she pronounced, posing before her attentive admirer. “All dressed up and ready to rumble.” Harmony bent down, scooped up her furry friend and walked to the refrigerator to pick up her My Little Pony thermos of liquid otter.
“Can’t forget you now, can I? What will it be?” Harmony opened the cupboard. “Moist slivers of tender tuna or crunchy, teeth whitening blobs of liver and bacon?” She observed the flickering whiskers on the kitten’s face and considered the tiny cans. “How about a little bit of both?” In no time the tiny feline was chewing contentedly on a hearty meal while Harmony knelt close by watching.
“Today’s the day, Mr. Pussy. I’m going to prove to Angel that I am indispensable. I’m exactly what this company needs. Not some sour puss CEO who acts like the corporate world is a big pile of evil cooties.” Harmony stroked down the spine of her companion with a polished fingertip. “‘Cause it’s not, you know. Angel doesn’t know half the stuff I do anyway. Research, recon, receivables…I mean, who does he think got that stupid seat from that stinky old hockey arena? The eBay fairy?”
Mr. Pussy Galore looked up into Harmony’s eyes and licked the satisfying crumbs from his mouth. A meow of thanks initiated a rumbling purr of contentment. He was grateful for the shelter, companionship and attentions of such a sparkly and effervescent creature. He wanted nothing more than to grant his benefactor the life altering gift she had given him: to be loved and valued in the world. The tip of the small feline’s tail began to twitch as the decision was made. Her deepest desire would be granted.
“I could do a way better job in the big chair than Angel,” Harmony muttered and picked up her pal to give him a final cuddle before leaving for work. There was no way around it; this was the day she’d most likely become just another faceless temp from the steno pool. Harmony held the kitten nose to nose as she said her good-byes for the day.
“See ya later, little dude.”
Once back down on its feet, the kitten began to rub itself against Harmony’s ankles in a continuous show of appreciation while an odd yowl gurgled in its throat. Unaware of the mewlings of an incantation at her feet, Harmony busied herself with her jacket. She failed to notice the strange, mystical light that shone from the kitten’s eyes, engulfing the room in a powerful transforming wave. Her cramped apartment suddenly became a sleek and spacious ultra modern penthouse. The battered My Little Pony thermos transformed into a stylish leather briefcase with a few tastefully positioned unicorn stickers.
Harmony paused in front of the elevator, caught in a brief disorienting haze. There was something she was forgetting, but what was it? The familiar meow at her feet caught her attention.
“Silly me!” she suddenly remembered. “We can’t shoot the new promotional photos without our mighty mascot, now, can we?” Harmony scooped up the kitten once more and pressed the button for the elevator.
The luxurious doors whisked open immediately to welcome Harmony Kendall, CEO of Wolfram and Hart.