Title: A little less complicated
Part: 1
Author: Roxane
Email Roxane at: roxsedai@nycap.rr.com
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon is responsible for everything that is Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Summary: My addition to all the Christmas fic.
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: up through Wrecked
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy juggled the bags of groceries in her arms and somehow managed to get the door to her house open. She practically fell onto the island in the center and dropped the bags there.
“Dawn!” she called.
Dawn wandered in from the living room. “You bellowed?”
“Yeah, can you help me get the rest of the bags out of the car?”
Dawn’s eyebrows rose. “You drove? I thought that was, like, against all the laws of nature.”
Buffy wrinkled her nose at her. “It is, but it was the only way to get all this stuff here.” She hooked a thumb towards the door. “Bags. Get.”
While Dawn retrieved the remainder of the groceries, Buffy began to unpack what she had brought in. Soon, the makings of a full course ham dinner lay spread across the island. Dawn half-heartedly offered to help, but a smiling Buffy waved her off. Only after her sister was safely out of the room did Buffy’s smile fade, replaced by a weary determination.
“Festive” would have been the last word to describe Buffy’s emotions, but she had resolved to give Dawn the best Christmas possible. She knew she could never hope to match the memories of Christmases past with their mother, but with the help of the Scoobies, she could at least give her a nice new memory to add to the others. The only line she had drawn was when Dawn had asked to invite Spike to dinner. She loved her sister, but there was no way she was spending an entire evening with him, not after…that night she never ever thought of.
Because she never ever thought of him. Her sleepless nights had nothing to do with him at all. Out of sight, out of mind. It took more than seeing bleach blonde hair or a leather coat or hearing a British accent or a million other little things to break through Slayer concentration and make her think of him.
Because she didn’t.
She couldn’t.
So, she set her mind to caring for Dawn. And Willow. And doing her duty. Being the Slayer. Being a sister. Being a friend.
Nothing else mattered.
Nothing else.
And these feelings she didn’t have would go away.
Soon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Her cheeks ached.
She had been smiling non-stop since the gang had arrived. Big “I’m okay and glad to be here” smiles. Huge “I love Christmas” smiles. Small “Anya’s not really getting on my nerves” smiles. She laughed at the right moments. She served the right food. She oohed at the gifts as they were unwrapped.
She couldn’t wait for them to leave.
She jumped to her feet. Everyone looked inquiringly at her, and after a frantic spate of thinking, she came up with, “Who’s up for some eggnog?”
She took a count and headed for the kitchen, sighing with relief to give her poor cheeks a break. The doorbell rang, and she called for Dawn to answer it. She carried the tray of eggnog into the living room just as her sister closed the front door.
“Who was it, Dawn?”
“No one was there. Just this.” Dawn held out a small package rapped in red foil Christmas paper., and a small smile played on her lips. “It’s from Spike.”
Buffy froze. “From Spike?” For what seemed the first time in weeks, she could feel her heart beating again.
Dawn shrugged and flicked the gift tag. “Well, it says “Merry Christmas, Little Bit’ and no one else calls me that except Spike.”
“Oh.”
Not for me. God, that shouldn’t hurt. She had told him to stay out of her life.
Since when had he ever listened to her?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Jump!” Every year, Spike urged George Bailey to take the leap into the river and end it all, but , no, he had his wonderful life to lead. Wanker.
He exhaled a heavy sigh and took a drink of whisky.
He closed his eyes, fighting the almost irresistible urge to go to her. To make her face her fears, her desires…herself. Every night, the pull had grown stronger, harder to fight, but he told himself she had to be the one to come to him. He knew she felt something, and he clung to the thought that she hadn’t been able to deny it, even if it wasn’t yet love.
He had peeked through the window when he dropped off Dawn’s gift, had seen Buffy smiling and laughing with what remained of her family. He had also seen the smiles dim when she thought no one was looking. It almost - almost, but not quite - made him regret their night in the broken house. Before that, before the couple of kisses they had shared, he had been a regular part of her life, the one she could talk to, the one she didn’t have to pretend around.
But all she had to do was come to him and she could have that again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy smiled her biggest smile yet and waved cheerily to Xander and Anya as they left.
“Good night, guys. Thanks for coming!”
Her eyebrows rose as Dawn followed the couple out the door. “Where are you going?”
“I promised Lisa I would come by. Don’t worry. Xander’s going to give me a ride.”
“What about coming home?”
“Someone’ll give me a ride. They’re waiting, gotta run.” Dawn leaned in a gave Buffy a quick peck on the cheek and skipped down to the car.
“Call us if you can’t get a ride!”
Closing the door, Buffy turned and surveyed the party mess left behind. With a soft sigh, she gathered a stack of cups and dishes to cart to the kitchen. Willow began to help her and they cleared the living and dining rooms in silence. As they began to wash the dishes, Buffy noticed with great relief that Willow was stifling a yawn.
“You look tired. Why don’t you let me finish this up?”
Willow shook her head. “I can’t leave all this mess with you.”
“Hey, no big. It shouldn’t take me long.”
“Are you sure?” Gratitude washed over Willow’s face when Buffy nodded. “Well, then, okay. It’s just…I can barely keep my eyes open. “
“Go get some sleep. ” “Good night, Buffy. And thanks.”
“Good night.“ Willow was almost out of the room when Buffy spoke again. “Hey, Will?”
Willow stopped and turned. “Yeah?” Buffy soaped up a dish, appearing to pay special attention to one spot. “Are you going to be here later? When Dawn comes home, I mean? I thought I should go patrolling later.”
“I’ll be here. No place else for a Jewish witch to be on Christmas.”
Buffy flashed a smile over her shoulder. “Okay. Thanks.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Spike surged to his feet as the door to his crypt flew open, and he immediately took a defensive stance as he faced the entryway. He relaxed when he saw who his visitor was, and after enjoying a brief swirl of joy , he grinned wickedly.
“Well, if it isn’t my own little Christmas elf.” He swept a glance from her head to her toes and back up. “I think Santa already knows I’ve been very naughty this year.”
“Don’t.”
His eyes met hers, his grin fading at the play of emotions he saw on her face. “Buffy? What’s wrong?”
v She shook her head as she advanced. “Please, just…don’t talk.”
“But - “
“Don’t.” Her voice this time was harsh, but a slight shake betrayed her struggle for control.
She stepped within inches of him and without stopping, reached up and tugged his head down to hers, pressing her mouth to his in a way that was desperate and hungry and scared all at once. After one surprised instant, Spike moaned low in his throat and clutched her hips, pulling her tight against him, his need as urgent as hers. He felt her fingers against his back, frantically pulling his shirt up, and he allowed their mouths to part only long enough for her to shove the shirt past his head and off, groaning as her hands moved on his cool flesh, warming him, heating him.
He pushed her jacket off her shoulders, and she lowered her arms to let it fall to the floor, keeping her mouth sealed to his. He went to work on the tiny buttons of her shirt, but after the first two took too long, Buffy reached between them and ripped her shirt open, elicitng an approving growl from Spike. The sound shifted to a groan as she unsnapped the front clasp of her bra and pressed her bare breasts to his chest, scraping the hard points of her nipples against him.
His hands grabbed at her skirt, sliding it up her thighs, and Buffy shook her head against him, pressing her hands against his shoulders to push him away.
“No, not - “ she gasped.
He head dropped back, and he closed his eyes, panting for control. “God, Buffy, please.”
“Here.” His eyes popped open. “Not here.” She gave a tiny nod towards the hole in the floor, and hooking one finger into his jeans, she pulled him towards the lower level of his crypt.
With a relieved smile, he swooped forward, taking her mouth in a voracious kiss, and the two of them stumbled down the steps, never letting their mouths part. Spike managed to slip her panties down on the way, and she stepped out of them as they neared the bed.
She backed him against one side of the bed and shoved him backwards. She crawled onto the bed, hurriedly unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans, pulling his straining erection out and positioning him at the opening of her body. Bracing one hand on his chest, she sank down onto him, taking him as deep as he could go into the slick, wet heat of her. She threw her head back, closing her eyes and releasing a sighing cry of pleasure at the exquisite feel of him filling her. She heard a corresponding groan from him and she opened her eyes to watch him as she slowly slid back up.
God, there it was. That look of wonder in his eyes. That look that said he was touching heaven. Love, joy, lust - all mixed together and plain for her to see, hers whenever she wanted it.
Now, she wanted it.
Now, she needed it.
Still holding his gaze, she slid down and up, then down again, feeling his hips rise to meet her. His hands cupped her bottom, adding to the pressure, adding to the pleasure. She increased the pace of her hips, and in a short time - too short - she was gasping for breath as her climax hit her and she clenched around him, feeling him buck up into her, pulsing as he came as well.
She collapsed on his chest, boneless with her release, her breath coming in shallow pants. She felt Spike rest his cheek against the top of her head, and his hands made lazy, soothing circles across her back. But as her pulse slowed, it all came back, every feeling she had been suppressing all day.
“I miss my mom,” she whispered.
His hands paused for the briefest moment before continuing their light, random swirls on her back. “I know, luv.”
“And Giles. And…“ She moved her head restlessly against his chest and turned it into his neck, muffling her next words.
Spike’s hands stilled completely on her back, and his entire body stiffened. “What was that?”
Her brow crinkled against him as she mumbled, “I’ve missed you.”
A satisfied smile broke out on his face before he curled his tongue between his teeth and drawled, “I don’t think I quite caught that, luv. Could you repeat it for me?”
“I missed you!” She sat upright and glared down into his smug, twinkling eyes. “You spend a few years with someone in your life annoying the hell out of you, you get used to it and you miss it when it’s gone.“
He admired the way she looked above him, all mussed and indignant, torn shirt and open bra dangling to the sides of her breasts. He quirked an eyebrow at her. “And?”
“And…and I miss having someone I can talk to. Since I came back, everything’s been different. I don’t even know who Willow is anymore. Tara’s gone. Giles is gone. Xander and Anya …are Xander and Anya. I have to be all grown-up and responsible with Dawn. And you…” The flood of words came to a halt and, dropping her eyes, she shrugged one shoulder. “I didn‘t have to act with you or be something I wasn‘t.”
“And?”
Her eyes returned to his. “And what?”
“And this…” He shifted under her, newly aroused again. “You missed this too.” It wasn’t a question.
“I - “ His hands slid up her waist to her breasts, and she gasped.
“Didn‘t you?”
The tips of his fingers fluttered around her nipples, making them tighten to hard points and she arched her back, pushing herself into his hands.
“Say it, Buffy.”
She groaned in frustration and swiped his hands away from her. “God, why do you do that?”
He raised his arms, clasping his hands behind his head. “Do what, luv?”
“Why do you always ruin everything? Why can’t you just - just…”
“Let you come here, take your pleasure in silence then run off , telling yourself once again that it’s because you miss your mom, or Giles or because it’s Christmas? Awfully inconvenient of me, isn‘t it?”
She made a move to climb off of him and he sat up, grabbing her shoulders and jerking her into a hard kiss. When she began to cling to him, hungrily opening her mouth to him, he pulled back, just far enough to demand, “Is it so much to ask that you admit you want me?”
“It’s more complicated than that. Don’t you see that?”
“It doesn’t have to be so complicated. You want me, I want you. End of the bloody story.”
“I can’t just think about what I want. There’s Dawn and - “
“So, we both look out for her. Next objection.”
“There’s my Slaying.”
“Again, not seeing a problem. I can help you with that.”
“Just being who you are undermines that.”
“Any undermining that was done was done with Angel. Move on.”
“I - well, there’s Willow. She needs me now.”
“I bloody need you!” Her breath caught in her throat at the intensity in his voice. He took a deep breath, softening his tone, if not the force of his words. “I need you. And you need me. In your life as well as in your bed.”
She stared at him, unable to deny what he was saying, but still unwilling to accept it. So she shut him up the best way she knew, taking his mouth with hers, wrapping her legs around his hips and pressing her body as close to his as possible. She felt his erection surge between them and she pressed her pelvis closer, letting him feel how wet she was, how ready for him.
Spike groaned and suddenly flipped her over onto her back, following her down. She instinctively spread her legs, making room for him, wanting to feel him inside again, but he had other ideas . He trailed kisses across her chest, pausing briefly to nibble and lick at her breasts before continuing down. Anticipation thrummed in her veins as he neared the junction of her thighs, pulling her skirt off and casting it aside as he did, and he dropped teasing kisses around the opening of her body, one on each thigh, one in the crease where her thigh met her hip, one in the patch of curls above...all around, never quite going where she wanted him to.
Closing her eyes, she moved her hips, and he chuckled as he placed a feather-light kiss right on the heart of her. Unable to help herself, she whimpered and moved her hips again, and this time she was rewarded with a slight opening of his mouth, the tiniest bit of suction as he kissed her. He opened his mouth wider, and a long, pleasure-filled sigh drifted from her lips at the first touch of his tongue on her sensitive flesh. Like a cat, he lapped delicately, tiny, fluttering flicks of his tongue as he drank her.
“Oh, God, Spike.”
Encouraged by her breathless voice, he flattened his tongue and swept it upwards, passing gently over her clitoris. Hearing her sharp intake of air, he did it again, this time swirling his tongue around the hard nub. She was now making soft, mewling noises as Spike began to alternate gentle licks with soft jabs of the tip of his tongue. When he heard her breaths start to come in short, gasping pants, he closed his mouth around her clitoris and suckled, growling his own pleasure when she screamed with hers.
He released her clitoris, but continued to lick her as she came down, slow sweeps of his tongue, gently soothing her. He sat up, looking at her sprawled before him, cheeks flushed, still breathing in soft pants. He stood, kicked off his boots and removed his jeans, and Buffy’s eyes widened as he crawled languidly back onto the bed. He held her eyes as he settled between her splayed thighs, and with one long, slow push, he entered her, groaning at the incredible hot, wet feel of her closing around his cool flesh.
Buffy felt the lethargy induced by her orgasm melt away, replaced by a growing tension, the pleasure building as he moved within her. He lowered his head, and she met his mouth with hers, opening to him, meeting his tongue, tasting herself on him. He moved faster, thrusting hard and deep within her, and she met every plunge of his hips eagerly, until with one strong drive forward, his body stiffened over hers and he moaned into her mouth. He threw his head back, pleasure straining every inch of him, and as the end of his climax took him, his head came forward and he stared right into her eyes.
“I love you, Buffy, “ he whispered, his voice soft and rough all at once.
With an almost surprised cry, she clenched around him, clutching his shoulders, a soft wail escaping her as she came. She pulled him down to rest against her, and he rained soft kissing along her neck and cheek.
After a while, once they had both calmed, he rolled to his back, carrying her with him to snuggle against his side. Her breathing slowed and he felt her start to relax against him.
“I should go,” she said with a sleepy yawn.
“Is anyone home with Dawn?”
“Willow said - “ She paused for another yawn. “ - she would be there.”
“Then you can stay.”
“No..shouldn’t.” She burrowed closer to him and draped one arm across his stomach.
He smiled and pulled a sheet over her sleeping body.
“Merry Christmas, Buffy.”
The End