Title: The F.G.U.
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None
of the BtVS characters belong to me.
Feedback: Oh, pleeeeze!
Summary: Just a little whimsy. I was feeling kind of silly when I wrote it.
Don't want to reveal too much.
Part 1 * Part
2 * Part 3 * Part 4 * Part 5 * Part 6
~~~~~
"Suddenly...suddenly it happens
And your dream comes
true..."
~~~~~
"Excuse me, dear? I really must have a word with you. Do wake up now,
please. I AM on a schedule, you know?"
Buffy's eyes flew open wide, and she sat up so abruptly that the woman standing
next to her bed was startled into taking a step back. "Who the hell are
you?" she demanded. "And why the hell are you in my room?"
"I know," the
woman replied with a shrug. "I'm terribly late, but I've just been swamped
lately. " She sighed deeply. I'm quite exhausted."
Buffy watched as the intruder sank back into a chair that she'd never seen
before in her life, let alone in her room. Wondering where on earth it had come from, she studied the woman
carefully, in case she had to provide a description for Giles.
Her "guest" was on the short and plump side. There was a pair of
half-spectacles hanging on a chain around her
neck. Her floor length dress was white, with tiny specks of silver glitter in
the weave. It had long sleeves, buttoned at the wrists and a lacy collar.
The woman's cheeks had a rosy glow that accented her bright blue eyes, and her
white hair was pinned up into a neat bun.
She looked like someone's grandmother, and despite the violent awakening she'd
just had, Buffy couldn't sense any 'evil aura' permeating the room.
"Relax, dear," the woman urged, smiling slightly. "I left my
evil aura at home tonight."
Buffy's jaw sagged. "How did you...?"
"It's part of my job. Now...let's get down to business, shall we? I don't
have a great deal of time."
Buffy didn't respond to the words. Her eyes were riveted on something in the
old lady's lap.
It was a rod, about fifteen inches long. Made of glass, she could see tiny gold
and silver stars glittering inside of it.
"Is...is that a...?" she stammered. "That's not a..."
"A magic wand? Yes. Sort of a tool of my trade," the woman said
matter-of-factly. "Quite emblematic, I can assure you," she added.
"I don't need it, but people seem to expect it of me and they're always so
disappointed when I don't produce one."
"Is that a fact?" Buffy asked.
"Indeed," the old lady confirmed. "I always feel so perfectly
horrible, as though I've trampled all over their childhood fantasies, the poor
dears."
With an amused shrug, she reached down and picked up a large tapestry
bag....something else that Buffy was certain had not been there a moment ago.
Curious, she watched in expectant silence as the woman rummaged around in the
bag, then produced a clipboard with a piece of paper on it.
The woman squinted at the paper for a moment, muttered, "Oh, bother"
under her breath, then put on her spectacles.
"Much better," she said briskly. "Now...you are Buffy Summers?"
Buffy nodded. "Uh-huh."
The woman stared at her for a moment, shaking her head. "Uh-huh?" she
repeated. "Apparently, they're no longer teaching proper grammar in
school."
The comment made Buffy feel like a tenth grader failing English.
"Yes," she amended. "I'm Buffy Summers."
"Much better," the old lady beamed. Using a pen that was chained to
the clipboard, she began writing something down, speaking under her breath.
"Yes.. yes...oh, definitely..."
It looked to Buffy as though items were being checked off on a list.
"Yes...yes...certainly NOT...yes...well, we'll fudge a little on this
one..."
Buffy couldn't stand it. "What are you doing?"
"Hmmm?" The woman looked up. "You mean this?" she asked,
indicating the clipboard. "It's tiresome, I know, but I'm required to fill
out all the paperwork or things will be tied up forever in bureaucratic red
tape. It's not like the old days, when all you had to do was check in for your
assignment. Now, there are forms and everything is computerized, and I know
nothing about those wretched machines except that using them always throws me
off schedule."
"You sound like a friend of mine," Buffy said, unable to suppress a
smile. "Giles...."
"Doesn't think much of computers either, I know." Pulling a lace
handkerchief from her sleeve, the old woman dabbed her forehead with it.
"So...here I am, dashing about the world all willy-nilly, and trying to
keep up. It's difficult for a woman my
age."
Releasing a heartfelt sigh, she reached back into her bag and brought out a
plate, offering it to Buffy.
"Have a cookie, dear?" she urged. "I made them myself."
It was at that precise moment that Buffy felt the last shred of suspicion slide
away. Whoever or what- ever she might be, this jolly looking old lady wasn't a
demon. What kind of demon bakes cookies for it's intended victim?
Besides, they smelled fantastic.
With a huge smile, she selected a cookie, and her eyes widened in surprise.
"They're warm!" she said delightedly. "Like they just came out
of the..."
The woman's eyes twinkled in a manner that could only be described as
"merrily".
Taking a bite of the cookie, Buffy's eyes rolled in ecstasy. "Peanut
butter with chocolate chips! This is my..."
"Favorite cookie. I know."
Buffy's brow furrowed. "How," she asked around a mouthful of cookie,
"did you know?"
"My dear, it's what I DO," the woman replied. "I know all of
your favorites. Just because it took me a while to get here doesn't mean that I
haven't been keeping my eye on you."
Buffy swallowed and reached for another cookie.
The moment she had her hand on one, the woman said, "All right, then...but
we shall keep the rest of them for another time. Eating this late isn't at all good
for you."
Staring at the woman in dismay, Buffy immediately picked up three of the
cookies instead of one. "Okay," she said, holding them as though they
might be snatched back. "Go ahead and put them away."
"Really, Buffy," the lady scolded, replacing the cookie in her bag.
"But, I'm hungry," Buffy said in defense of her gluttony. "I
didn't eat much dinner tonight."
There was a pause, then the woman shook her head. "Oh, fine...go ahead.
But do NOT forget to brush your teeth again before you go back to sleep.
Cavities are quite opportunistic."
~~~~~
"Wonderfully, beautifully it happens
And your world is new..."
~~~~~
Rummaging around in her bag, she handed Buffy a small package containing a
toothbrush and a box of dental floss.
"Oh, I already have a..."
"It's time for a new one, dear heart."
Buffy examined the package, surprised to see that there was no indication as to
which company had produced it. It was a plain white box, with only one line of
small print at the bottom; Toothbrush/Floss inspected by #12.
"Um...thank you," she said, still chewing. "Listen, you never
told me how it is that you know all my favorite foods."
"Oh, I know a great deal more than that," the woman replied. She saw
a skeptical look on Buffy's face. "Do you require proof?"
Buffy shrugged. "Well..."
There was another deeply put upon sigh. "Very well, then...here are a few
of your favorite things, and no, I do not intend to sing them to you; The
cookies you are currently stuffing yourself with, pizza, nearly anything made
with chocolate, hamburgers, tacos, ice cream sundaes, string cheese, sour cream
and onion flavored potato chips, some dreadful concoction known as 'Kool-Aid'..."
Buffy opened her mouth to speak.
"Cherry," the woman said, answering the question Buffy hadn't asked.
"Now, if I may continue...where was I?"
"Kool-aid," Buffy ventured, finishing the last bit of cookie.
"Cherry."
"Oh, yes," the old lady agreed. "Well, suffice it to say that
your tastes in food are decidedly...eclectic, to be precise."
"What's that..."
"Do look it up, dear. It's what dictionaries were invented for."
Buffy was about to reply when a light switched on in the hallway outside her room.
"That's my sister."
"Yes, I do believe it is," the woman replied.
Typically, Dawn walked in without knocking. With not so much as a raised
eyebrow, she looked around the room. "I thought I heard you talking to
someone."
Buffy was surprised, and it showed on her face.
"Well, yeah," she said, gesturing at her late night visitor, but it
was quite clear that Dawn saw nothing out of the ordinary. "I was...sleep
talking?"
Dawn nodded slowly. "Uh-huh."
"There, you see," the old woman scolded. "Your atrocious grammar
is influencing your sister."
Buffy hesitated, watching Dawn's face for a reaction to the words.
"She cannot hear or see me, dear. Unless, of course, I wish her to."
"So, are you okay?" Dawn asked, yawning.
"Yeah...YES!" Buffy said quickly. "I'm fine. You go back to
bed."
"Mm-kay...g'night."
"Good night," Buffy pronounced clearly. When the door closed behind
Dawn, she flopped back onto the bed. "This is the weirdest thing that's
ever happened to me."
"I highly doubt that, dear," the woman said dryly.
********************
~~~~~
"Magically, you're holding the
golden prize..."
~~~~~
Buffy sat back up. "Do you have a name?"
The old woman's eyes widened comically, and her mouth formed a perfect O.
"Goodness! How dreadfully rude of me not to introduce myself. I simply
don't know where my mind gets to at times." She extended one hand.
"Abigail Potter.
Mrs. Potter, if you please. So very happy to finally meet you, my dear."
Buffy returned the handclasp, pleasantly surprised at the warmth and softness
of the small hand. "I'm pleased to meet you, too," she replied,
calling up the manners her mother had worked so hard to drill into her head.
"Can I...MAY I ask you another question?"
"Why certainly," Mrs. Potter smiled sweetly.
"What...I mean who...are you?"
Mrs. Potter gave her an appraising look. "Don't you know, dear? You're a
fairly perceptive and intelligent young lady...when you want to be...and I've
dropped more than one hint tonight."
Buffy shook her head, not prepared to say it herself. "Please just tell
me."
The old lady sighed. "Oh, dear. I was afraid of this."
"Afraid of what?" Buffy frowned.
Mrs. Potter studied Buffy's face for a moment, silently.
"My dear child," she finally said. "You have a lamentable tendency
to not see the obvious when it is as plain as the nose on your sweet face.
Which, considering your occupation, is an odd character trait. You demand to have
things spelled out to you in excruciating detail, when you are perfectly well
aware of what you are seeing and hearing. " She sighed again. "And
even when they ARE spelled out for you...you ignore, and you deny, and you argue
yourself into a state of positive inertia."
Standing up suddenly, she picked up her wand and waved it in a circle.
Buffy gasped at the sparkling and multi-hued rainbow thay was now arching
across her bedroom from corner to corner. "Oh!"
Mrs. Potter snapped her fingers, and a shower of fragrant wildflowers cascaded
down from the rainbow and
landed on the bed. A flick of her hand produced a diamond tiara on the slayer's
honey colored hair.
"Hold out your hand and close your eyes," she instructed.
Buffy obeyed without thinking twice, and felt a light touch on her palm. When
she was told to open her eyes, she saw a tiny crystal horse and an all too familiarly
shaped carriage...something she'd seen in countless childhood story
books...perched in the middle of her hand.
"Now," Mrs. Potter said. "Are you ready to see, and to
accept?"
Buffy smiled, her eyes shining like a brand new star. "You're
a...a.."
"I am," the old lady nodded. "Now...say it."
The slayer took a deep breath. "A fairy godmother?"
With another wave of Mrs. Potter's hand, the room returned to it's original
condition. Everything disappeared
except for the crystal horse and coach. "For you to keep," she said
with a smile.
The thing was so beautiful that Buffy's eyes nearly filled with tears.
"Thank you," she said softly, placing it on her night stand.
"You're very welcome, dear," Mrs. Potter said. "Now," she
continued, "any further questions?"
"Well...since you asked." **Only about a million....**
Mrs. Potter gave her an expectant look.
"Well, um...why were you assigned to me? I mean, was it one of those
'reach into a hat and choose a piece of
paper with someone's name on it' kinda thingys?"
The woman sighed. "She never learns," she mumbled. "Why do I
even bother?" Leaning back in the chair, she closed
her eyes and massaged her temples. "Care to ask that question again,
dear?"
Buffy's cheeks turned red. "Which question? The 'why were you assigned to
me' one...or the 'kinda thingys' ?"
Mrs. Potter shook her head. "Never mind," she said wearily.
"I'll save you the trouble." Sitting upright, she opened her eyes and
pinned her gaze on Buffy's. "Make no mistake, my dear. I was NOT assigned
to you. I requested you."
"How come? I mean, why?"
"Oh, I've been monitoring your case for quite some time now, and please
allow me to say how very interesting it's been. Interesting AND entertaining as
well. Such cliffhangers you have. Very exciting, dear. Very exciting, indeed."
"Glad I could help," Buffy muttered, picking at a loose thread on her
blanket.
"My goodness, yes. Even I wondered what was going to happen next...and I
already KNEW what was going to
happen next."
Buffy stared at the woman. "Well, you might have mentioned it now and
then," she said huffily. "Do you have any
idea how many times I nearly died? That I DID die once? I drowned in a pool of
dirty water. The world has almost
ended so many times that you need a program to keep the apocalypses in
order..."
Mrs. Potter listened calmly to Buffy's rant. "And yet, you're alive...and
the world is still standing."
"Well...yeah," Buffy stammered. "That's true. But,
still..."
"Still nothing, my dear." Mrs. Potter waved one hand impatiently.
"If you don't know by now that you've been kept a close watch on...then
you are quite beyond hope and I'm obviously wasting my time with you."
She gathered her bag up and began to rise to her feet.
Buffy felt awful, as though she'd been insufferably rude to a beloved
grandmother...an impudent, mouthy child
who needed to be set back a peg."
"Or two," Mrs. Potter murmured, straightening her sleeves.
Again, Buffy's cheeks flamed bright red. "I'm sorry. I really....I shouldn't
have..."
Mrs. Potter cut her off with a sharply raised hand, then smiled sweetly.
"I accept your apology, dear." Resettling
herself in her chair, she said, "After all, you haven't had an ordinary
row to hoe. Things have been difficult for you...as
they were for all the ones who came before you. And you must know that there's
only so much outside influence
available to help you along your particular path. You're quite fortunate in
that you already have a great deal of help right here alongside you."
Buffy nodded. That was true. No other slayer in the history of the profession
had ever been able to rely on
so many others, friends and family both.
"I know I'm lucky," she admitted. "My friends, and Giles, and....."
"Yes," Mrs. Potter said. "And HIM, as well. What a surprise THAT
was, let me tell you."
"Oh, come on," Buffy grinned. "You didn't have a little bit to
do with it? Being my fairy godmother and all?"
~~~~~
"Mystically, your castles begin to rise..."
~~~~~
"Well," Mrs. Potter said modestly, "not at first. Oh, after I was
able to zero in on a few unexpressed feelings I picked
up on, I may have given a slight nudge here and there, but the majority of the
credit really goes to your beau."
Buffy looked surprised. "What about me?"
"You?" The old
lady was nearly laughing out loud. "My dear child, I've never seen anyone
so stubbornly determined
to deny herself the very thing she wanted and needed most of all."
"Which was...?"
"Unconditional love, my heart. Complete, and total, and unquestioning...from
someone who knows you to the very
marrow of your bones. Someone who can deal with you on your own terms. Someone
willing to put your needs
first...which as you and I both know, no one has done before."
Buffy folded her arms across her chest and leaned back against the headboard of
her bed. "Someone who happens
to be a vampire?"
Mrs. Potter shrugged. "Well, nobody's perfect. Besides, as soon as I began
to realize which way the wind was blowing,
I took care of that little problem...as best I could."
"Excuse me?" Buffy asked. "You...took care of..."
"I admit, I couldn't undo what had been done. That's simply not within my
realm of power. So I...arranged for him to be
in the right place, at the right time, and that nasty little band of cub scouts
did the rest."
"Hoo, boy," Buffy muttered, shaking her head. "If he only knew."
"If he only knew...what?" Mrs. Potter demanded. "Let me tell you
something, young lady. If he knew, he would thank
me. He's extremely happy to be with you, and it's a trade he would make again
willingly. You may depend upon that!"
Buffy knew the woman spoke the truth. Spike had said much the same thing many
times.
"He most certainly has!" said Mrs. Potter, as though Buffy had spoken
her thoughts out loud. "So, all's well that ends well. It was a bit of
work for everyone involved, but that's always the way it is...because despite
what they write in those stories for children, lasting love and happiness is
never achieved by a mere snap of ones fingers."
She actually snapped her fingers for emphasis, and a Shetland pony with a large
red bow around his neck
appeared at the foot of the bed.
"Oh, dear," Mrs. Potter exclaimed. "I do beg your pardon." An
additional finger snap made the pony disappear. "That
wish was left over from your sixth birthday," she said. "I really
must remember to update my files."
Buffy laughed. "So, it's YOUR fault I never got that pony."
"Yes. I'm afraid that, like most wishes, it was wonderful in theory but
hardly practical in application." Sitting back in
her chair, Mrs. Potter gave Buffy an appraising look. "However...your
latest heart felt wish is every bit as wonderful in
both theory and reality. In fact, it's so delightful that I had to come and
deal with it personally."
Buffy's brow furrowed. Her latest heart felt wish? What could that be?
**What...stay alive a little longer? Hit all six numbers on the lottery? Not
have to be the slayer anymore?**
No, it wasn't that. She'd come to terms with that long ago, and she hadn't
wished that she was someone else
in ages.
But, no matter how hard she concentrated, she couldn't remember consciously
making any wishes lately, heart felt
or otherwise.
"That's true, you haven't," Mrs. Potter said. "You've been very
good about that. But I've been tiptoeing around in your SUB-conscious, and I
found what I was looking for in a place so deeply buried inside of you that you
have absolutely no awareness of it's existence."
~~~~~
"Suddenly, dizzily you're spinning
with the thrill of life..."
~~~~~
There was a long pause.
"Are you gonna tell me what it is?" Buffy finally asked. "Or are
we gonna play twenty questions?"
Mrs. Potter winced. "No, I am not GOING to tell you," she said.
"Although it would serve you right if I told you it was a wish for better
grammatical skills." She wagged a scolding finger. "Fortunately for
you, the FGU has an ethics code, and we cannot..."
"The who?"
"The Fairy Godparent's Union," Mrs. Potter said. "We have a
mandate that we all strictly adhere to, and the first item on that mandate is
'No tampering with wishes'."
She frowned briefly. "Or is it 'No personal business on company time' ?
No, no...perhaps it's..."
"You were saying?" Buffy interjected, trying to ward off what sounded
like a laundry list of rules and regulations.
"Oh, yes...quite. As I was saying...we cannot tamper with a wish, one
expressed or kept secret...just to please ourselves. I mean, if we allowed that
sort of behavior, then we'd never get anything done. Do you see my
meaning?"
Buffy nodded. "Makes sense."
"Mind you, I can choose not to grant a wish," Mrs. Potter added.
"But I cannot alter it."
"Okay,okay." Buffy was becoming impatient. "But what about MY
wish? This one I have that I don't know about?"
"Oh, you know about it, dear. You're just hiding it so well that you
cannot find it."
"Can you give me a hint?"
Her fairy godmother gave her a tender smile. "A hint? Well, I suppose I
can. And I shall....soon."
Buffy's face formed the pout that usually got her anything she wanted from the
man who loved her, but the expression was cutting zero ice with the lady seated
before her. "When?"
"You'll know it when you see it," Mrs. Potter assured her, then
sighed and rose to her feet, bag in hand. "I need to be running along now,
dear."
"Oh, no!" Buffy protested. She glanced at her clock, surprised to see
that it was still showing 1:00 A.M. "Hey!"
"I've been holding time," Mrs. Potter explained. "But it always
takes so much out of me."
Buffy got up on her knees and reached for the old lady's hand. "Can't you
stay just a little longer? There's so much I want to ask you."
Mrs. Potter shook her head kindly. "There will be time for all that later,
dear heart," she said, squeezing Buffy's hand.
"But, unless I'm mistaken...and I never am...someone will be here to see
you very soon, and I certainly wouldn't want
to interfere in the course of true love." She gave Buffy a wink and a
smile that almost made her look girlish. "Not tonight, at any rate,"
she added pertly.
~~~~~
"Suddenly, thirstily you're drinking
in your fill of life..."
~~~~~
Mrs. Potter stopped Buffy's protest by pulling her slightly forward.
"Goodbye, dear," she said, placing a grandmotherly kiss on the
slayer's forehead. "And try not to worry too much.Things always have a way of working out, don't they?"
**Not always...**
"Always," Mrs. Potter said firmly, "You are going to have a long
and happy life...and I shall be close beside you through it all. You may depend
upon that."
Buffy nearly burst into tears at this gentle declaration. A long and happy
life? Could it possibly be true...for her?
She had long ago resigned herself to the fact that it just wasn't in the cards
she'd been dealt. Slayers didn't die of old age, or from wasting diseases. They
died in pain...and in blood...and in battle. It was a fact. Not a pleasant one,
but it was still a fact. A slayer died young, and a new one was called at the
moment of her death.
There was even a fancy, five dollar word for the concept; fungible. Being of
such a nature that one part or quantity may be replaced by another equal part
or quantity.
Replacable. Interchangeable. That's what she was. What all of them were.
But as much as she knew this to be an inescapeable fact, she looked up into
Mrs. Potter's kindly eyes right now...and she believed.
Buffy squeezed the old lady's hand a little tighter. "But...I WILL see you
again...won't I?"
"Oh, much sooner than you might expect," Mrs. Potter said
cryptically. "And if you need me before that day comes, just hold the
crystal in your hand and wish for it." She indicated the tiny horse and carriage.
"Go ahead and try it out."
Buffy released her hand and reached for the crystal. Holding it carefully in
her cupped hand, she thought for a moment. She closed her eyes, for no other
reason than it was always the way she'd seen it done in movies, and made a
silent wish.
There was an electronic chirp, and she opened her eyes and saw that Mrs. Potter
was holding a pager, peering at the message it carried.
"Oh, for heaven's sake," she grumbled. Dropping the pager into her
bag, she searched around inside it and brought out an apple. Deep crimson and shiny,
it looked every bit as tempting as the one Snow White had accepted from another
strange old woman. "THIS is what you wished for?"
Buffy shrugged. "Not exactly. I wished for chocolate cake," she
admitted, returning the crystal to her night stand.
"Really?" Mrs. Potter said. "Well, as a great many people
currently wandering through this mortal coil might say...fat chance."
"It was worth a try," Buffy replied, smiling. "But I thought you
said that you can't alter wishes."
"I altered nothing. Had you been paying attention earlier, you would
recall me telling you that I can choose not to grant a particular wish, which I
did. The apple was MY idea." She placed the fruit on the night stand
alongside the crystal horse and it's pumpkin shaped coach. "I refuse to
aid and abet your poor eating habits," she said sternly. "Cake in the
middle of the night? Why, the very IDEA of such a thing is ludicrous. How can
you even suggest it?"
"I was hungry?" Buffy ventured.
"Oh, I see." Mrs. Potter leveled a deadly serious gaze on the slayer.
"A word of advice, dear; in the future, kindly do NOT summon me because
you're hungry! You might not like the result."
Suitably chastened, Buffy mumbled an agreement.
The fairy godmother's cheery smile beamed forth once again, it's sweetness
enveloping Buffy in a down quilt of warmth and love. "Go to sleep."
Like a marionette with it's strings suddenly severed, Buffy flopped back down
on her bed in a deep and dreamless sleep.
Mrs. Potter tilted her head to one side when she heard the front door of the
house open and close quietly.
"Right on time, dear boy," she murmured.
With one final look at her favorite godchild, she was gone.
~~~~~
"But secretly, you just can't believe
it's true..."
~~~~~
Spike closed the bedroom door behind him, grinning at the view he was presented
with.
Buffy was stretched out in the middle of her bed, arms and legs splayed like a
capital X.
It was a sight that never failed to tickle him. He'd never in his life slept
with such a bed hog. She spread herself out all over the mattress as though she
was claiming it in the name of Spain.
He stripped his clothes off and climbed under the blankets. Propping himself on
one arm, he looked down at her.
**Beautiful...she's so beautiful...and she's mine...my girl...**
She looked so happy, so utterly peaceful, that he hated to wake her up.
But he had to. On his way here, a sudden and strong need to make love to her
had come over him. The closer he'd gotten to the house, the more urgent that
need had become, until it was a raging inferno inside of him.
After a brief debate with himself as to the best way to wake her, he leaned
down and began kissing and nuzzling her throat.
Buffy's eyes fluttered open, and she smiled when she saw him.
"Mmmm," she said sleepily. "Where've you been all my life?"
"Waiting for you, kitten," he whispered.
She slipped one hand behind his neck, urging him down to kiss her. He accepted
the invitation, loving the way she lifted herself to meet him, as though she
was too eager to wait.
"I was having the funniest dream," she said when he pulled back.
"It was...."
Her words trailed off when she glanced at her night stand.
Spike followed her gaze. "Pretty," he said, gesturing at the crystal
horse and coach. "Is it new?"
She said nothing, still staring at the crystal and the apple beside it.
"Buffy? Sweetheart?." He gave her a gentle shake.
"Hmmm?" She turned to look at him. "What? Oh! Sorry," she laughed
a little. "It was...a gift from my godmother. It came today."
Technically, this was all true.
The feel of Buffy's warm body was causing Spike to rapidly lose interest in any
other subject.
"It's nice," he said briefly, pulling and tugging at her until she
was lying halfway beneath him. Catching her face in one hand, he held her still
and began kissing her again, his mouth moving from her lips and down her
throat, lingering at the soft curve of her breast.
"God, you smell good," he said, returning to her lips. "And you
taste good, too." He licked his lips. "Is that...peanut butter?"
"Cookies," Buffy said succinctly.
Spike chuckled softly.
"Lemme taste." Bringing his mouth to hers, he paused to enjoy the
sensation of her warm, scented breath, then captured her mouth in a deep,
drugging kiss.
She abandoned herself, as all her nerve endings began dancing just below the
surface of her skin. He always did this to her, elicited this reaction. His lightest
touch in just the right place, was enough to make her melt and ache with need.
His fingers moved over her, mapping familiar territory, lingering to play in
her most sensitive hills and valleys.
Buffy's own hands were by no means idle. They trailed over him in a caress that
alternated between light, delicate touching with the tips of her fingers, and
firm squeezing as her nails dug in, leaving their mark on his skin.
Desperate for air, she broke the kiss. "I love you, baby," she
whispered, staring up into deep blue eyes made glassy with passion. "I love
you so much."
Spike needed to hear those words frequently, more so than most other men did.
He'd waited so long for her to say them, and he thrived on the sound.
He never tired of hearing them, and Buffy never stinted on giving them to him.
Pulling back suddenly, he rolled onto his back, bringing her along with him.
"Love you, too, kitten."
Buffy moved down, rising to her knees. "What do you want?" she asked,
attempting to sound coy.
He stared up at her, heat lightning in his eyes.
"Take it off," he said, gesturing at her nightgown.
Slowly...teasingly...she gathered the material in her hands, pulling it up and
over her head. "Now what?"
He swallowed hard, his eyes roaming her naked body with lustful intent.
"Make love to me."