Holiday on Helarth

Chapter Six ~ Cookies-Schmookies

"That was the strangest way to get dry, ever," Buffy said the minute they were in their room with the barrier up.

Spike didn't say it, but it was the best bath he'd ever had. Instead, he agreed that the blast of hot air had been disconcerting. He'd put his jeans on before he got under the air, and while his bare skin was dry in mere seconds, his jeans were still slightly damp.

"Wish it worked on clothes the way it did on skin."

With a cute frown, Buffy shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Tell me about it. I really wish I had a change of clothes. Heck, I'd settle for just a fresh pair of underwear."

Watching her go to the bedside table and open the drawer to add a stone to the water lamp, he had an internal debate.

He shouldn't do it. There was a chance he might end up with a broken nose for it, but the part of him that wanted to give her what she wanted at any cost won out. Spike didn't even have to search for it. His lighter and cigarettes ended up in various pockets, but that silky little slip of material never left the deep pocket over his heart.

"Er…you could wear these if you like."

Spike braced himself as she faced him. Confusion quickly turned into a screwed up face of understanding.

"God, Spike, are those mine?" Nodding, he held them out to her. She swiped them from him and tossed them in the drawer. "I can't believe you. I thought you'd gotten past the obsession stage."

He snorted at that. "I'll always be obsessed with you, love. But I've had those for a few years now." Spike couldn't help the satisfied smirk that spread across his face. "Nicked them right out from under soldier boy's nose, too."

Buffy smiled back at him for a second until a thought occurred to her. She opened the drawer and pulled them out to inspect them. "Please tell me you didn't get them from my hamper."

"Got them from a drawer."

Tentatively, she raised the material to her face and sniffed. "Smells like you."

"Hey! I promise you, I've never worn those."

She giggled, and even though his feathers had been ruffled, he was glad to see a sign of joy from her. "Sorry…but—" The giggles turned into full out laughter. "Oh, God. The picture in my head." Another fit of laughter hit her before she could speak again. "With you in n…n…nothing but this thong."

Still giggling, she sat on the edge of the bed and patted the spot beside her. Spike sat, drinking in her radiant face.

"It's nice to see you smile. Doesn't happen that often."

In mid-reach to touch his face, she halted and hissed in pain.

"Is it your wound?"

"Kind of," she said while lifting her shirt for him to see. "I've healed faster than normal—must be this place—but now the stitches are annoying. Every time I stretch, they pull."

"We'd better get those out then." He took out a pocketknife and wiped the blade on his jeans.

"You weren't kidding when you said you had a lot of stuff hidden away."

"Old habits die hard. The way Dru and me lived, we never knew when we'd have to leave in a hurry. Now sit still. I'll make this quick."

He felt her eyes on him as he snipped the stitches open and tugged on each suture until they slipped out of her skin.

"Do you ever miss her?"

"Who, Dru?"

"Yeah."

Absently, he rubbed her now smooth skin. She wouldn't even have a scar.

"Sometimes I get nostalgic when I think of all the places we've been together, but mostly, I'm relieved to be free of her." Buffy nodded in understanding, so he went on. "I mean, if I ran into her now, I'd beg her to leave, because there's no way I could dust her. And she'd go even more insane than she already is if she figured out I had my soul."

Buffy glanced down at her clasped hands. "I can't believe you would let her go on killing."

Agitated, Spike stood. "At least I don't make out with my exes just hours before starting something with someone else."

When she refused to look up and take the bait, Spike deflated. He sat back down and waited for her to say something. Anything.

"Have we ever started, Spike? 'Cause it seems like we've always just been."

"Uh—"

"I regret kissing Angel." She raised her head and boldly held his gaze for a few seconds. Mumbling as she shook her head, she added, "Cookies-schmookies."

"I'm not following you, Summers."

Not paying attention to him, she stared off in space. "Now that I've had time to think about it…"

Confused, Spike tilted his head. "About what? Schmookie-cookies?"

Buffy gave him a light slap on the thigh. "No, of course not." Her expression softened and her hand smoothed over his jean-clad leg. "I know you were willing to leave when you thought The First wasn't through with you yet. I asked you to stay and you did, but what if when you'd asked for the amulet, I'd told you to leave and go put together a second defense, just in case The First defeated me?"

"That's a stupid question."

With a squeeze to his thigh, she frowned at him. "I know the answer. I just wanna hear you say it."

"There's no way in heaven or hell," he said, covering her hand with his, "that I'd leave you to face the fight without me by your side. You're strong, and you don't need me to fight your battles for you, but I'd die before I'd see you lose."

Nodding firmly, she placed her other hand on top of his. "When Angel showed up with the amulet, he assumed it was meant for him. It took me all of two minutes to convince him to leave. To go be a second front, just in case. And this was before he knew you had a soul."

Spike cringed. "Why did you have to tell him?"

"Sorry, it just came up later in conversation, when he was complaining about being able to smell you all over me."

"Well, that's a bit of all right then," he said while raising a brow and gracing her with his trademark smirk.

"Anyways… Thinking about all of that, I came to a conclusion. Angel and I are not in love with each other. We were both in love with what we once had—for like, five minutes when I was in high school."

It was hard for him to see straight right then, he was so pleased with her. Spike got his hands free and cupped her face. Softly, not holding any of his emotions back, he whispered, "She's all grown up now."

"Now do you have faith in me?" She gripped his forearms, holding his hands to her cheeks, and fixed him with an unwavering stare. "Will you believe me when I say I love you?"

Words failed him. He swallowed hard and nodded. As long as he existed, he'd always remember this moment—the very second when he truly felt loved by a woman. And she was the most incredible woman in any dimension.

As she leaned forward to kiss him, he became consciously aware of the fact that Buffy was coming to him. Like a dehydrated man at a watering hole, Spike kissed her back with abandon. There was so much joy bursting out of his heart, such as he'd never experienced before. If he were Angel, his soul would be departing, only Spike could never hate her, never let the evil overtake him again. He'd loved Buffy without the soul, and he loved her just as deeply with it.

Soon, their joyful kissing turned urgent, intense and sexually charged. It didn't take them long to help each other out of their clothes. Even damp denim couldn't get in the way of their lovemaking. Buffy's hands were all over him and for the first time since he'd gotten his soul, Spike felt as if he had every right to touch her in return.

He caressed her everywhere, reveling in the precious sighs escaping her kiss-swollen lips.

The movement of the waterbed underneath them matched the tempest of emotions within them, the water rolling and slapping under the plastic cover. Spike entered her achingly slow and Buffy hugged him to her. The connection they had, the love shared between them, was so intense that it took them a few minutes to realize the bed wasn't cooperating with the rhythm they were trying to set.

Her tender smile as they paused to scoot down the bed so they could use the frame for traction warmed his heart, but her wriggling hips and gripping hands that pulled him back into her got him revved up again.

It took just minutes before they were fighting with the bed again. With a frustrated growl, Buffy pushed him off, and he stretched out on the bed as she stood and yanked the bed cover until she had it spread out on the ground.

He raised a brow at her. She bit her lip and tilted her head.

"It's not like we're unfamiliar with the ground," she finally said.

"True. We're old friends."

Spike stood and put his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. When she started kissing his neck, he went a little weak in the knees.

"I love when…hmm…when you do that."

"What? This?" Buffy sucked on the skin just below his ear and jaw line before getting her tongue involved. Every nerve in his body perked up, and her hands on his back and ass were causing goose bumps to rise over his flesh. He stumbled, and Buffy let out a soft laugh that tickled the wet skin on his neck. She reached up and caressed his cheek, saying, "I think you should lie down."

He hugged her for a second before letting go to study the blanket on the floor.

"How do you want me?"

"On your back."

Once he was on his back, he nearly lost control at the sight of her. Her glorious, toned body shone in the lamplight as she straddled his hips. Leaning forward, she placed her hands on either side of his head and continued to kiss his neck. Spike tried to grab her hips, to guide over his erection, but she teased him, moving languidly as she rubbed against him.

She brought her attention to his mouth, their tongues darting and circling until his arousal was so intense he thought he might go mad or combust. Buffy took her lips from his, sat up and gazed at him, her eyes shining brightly with both sexual tension and tenderness as she spoke.

"I need you—love you. I'm complete when I'm with you."

"Christ, Buffy. I love you so much…" He didn't want to choke on his words, didn't want to tear up.

He was beyond caring when she poised herself over him and sank onto his cock. The little moan she let out stoked his fire. He gripped her hips, and together they controlled the rhythm of their lovemaking. Closing his eyes, Spike concentrated on her hands as they moved over his chest before she fell forward to give him a kiss.

Buffy loved him. And after so long without a physical connection, he couldn't get enough of her. He felt the intense need to drop his fangs, to go into game face, and to mark her neck. He fought it even as he embraced the need, because he knew what he was and that she was okay with it. She was his. He didn't have to cajole, didn't have to manipulate or push his will on her.

Buffy changed tempo, speeding up her movements. He peered through half-closed eyes and marveled at her beauty. With closed eyes, she threw her head back and slammed down on him repeatedly.

"Yeah… Yeah, love. Just like that. Feels so good."

He was rewarded with another moan and the first muscle spasms. It was good to know that she still got off on a little dirty talk. His own pleasure intensified, but he tried to hold off for her. What little control he had flew out the door when she started making tiny guttural sounds in her throat. Gripping the back of her head, he pulled her down for a bruising kiss and moved with her, grinding his hips to match her speed. Just when he thought he was going to explode, she moaned and fell on him. Spike gripped her hips and slammed up into her a few more times, trying to stretch out her pleasure before he let go with a moan of his own.

The beautiful stillness that came after overwhelmed him. Her heart was still pounding erratically, but she stayed where she was, breathing heavily and holding onto him as she rested her cheek against his shoulder. She'd never stayed with him…after…before, so he was at a loss for what to do next. Tentatively, he lifted his arms and caressed her back, but when Buffy didn't protest or get off him, he kissed the top of her head and continued to love her with his hands.

"Do you wanna get in bed?" he asked, after a few minutes had passed and her breathing had gotten more even.

"Yeah."

Buffy stood, and he took her hand and let her pull him up. A shy smile graced her lips as she stretched out on the bed and watched him through half-closed eyes. There was no way to be graceful when he joined her, and he chuckled as his weight had her tipping toward him. Spike gripped her arm to hold them steady, but changed his mind and let her fall onto him so he could give her a tender kiss. They broke apart and he allowed himself to just gaze at her. He loved it when her hair was out of place and her cheeks were pink with color after a vigorous go.

She glanced down at their entwined hands and bit her lip.

"I'm going to need another bath."

Lying down, he gathered her to himself and covered them with his coat. "We know where it is now. Let's rest a bit and then head back there."

"Sounds like a plan."

Placing feather-soft kisses on his neck, she wrapped her arm around him and sighed. Spike sucked in a breath and pressed against her.

"Keep that up and you'll be getting even stickier before you can get to that bath."

She let out a soundless laugh, the burst of air hitting his neck and her stomach muscles clenching against him. "I sure hope so."

He gripped her tighter and pulled her up for a wet kiss. Already feeling the stirrings of arousal, he deepened the kiss as her hand went to his neck to pull him closer. If he had his way, it would be a long time before they headed toward the bathing room.