The dark haired woman smiled warmly at Angel.

“Angel? You alright?”

“No, Fred,” Angel moaned, “I’m seeing things that I really shouldn’t.”

“What do you mean?”

Spike scoffed.

“Someone’s afraid of a little hanky-panky it seems, Slayer. Was he this prude when the two of you…?”

Buffy laughed and rolled her eyes at her fellow specter.

“I really don’t remember.”

“Ah…fucked him out of your brains, did I, pet?”

“Yep…I guess so,” she said, trailing her finger down his chest to his hip.

Moaning again, Angel shut his eyes to the non-corporeal display of affection besmudging his “clean” office. Fred stared, wide eyed at him, calculating what could possibly be wrong.

“So…who are you talking to, Angel?”

“Spike,” he spat out, “and Buffy…God, Buffy, please! At least wait until I’m out of the room!”

Angel shut his eyes again and began to hum “Habanera.” Apparently, although they still couldn’t touch anything else, they were still fully capable of touching, fondling, and licking each other. Throwing his hand over his eyes, Angel slowly, blindly, found his way out of the office and into the hallway, followed by a nervous Fred. Harmony’s pert voice greeted him.

“Hi boss!”

Angel groaned in response and curled up in the fetal position behind Harmony’s desk. She raised an eyebrow at Angel’s limp form, and then looked at Fred, who shrugged. Harmony sighed, but said nothing, busying herself, instead, with the twirling of her hair.


--


A floating pen caused a terrified uproar within the office when Willow denied being behind the phenomenon. Angel awoke with a start as a group of pinstriped Melenge demons thundered past him. He sighed after ascertaining who was the cause of the uproar. Buffy sat on Harmony’s desk, taken over completely in hysterics as Spike meandered around the office foyer, wiggling a pen and making half-hearted ghostly noises.

“Oooh! Run from the phantom pen you bloody wankers! Oooh! It’s bluuuue!”

Angel frowned and climbed to his feet.

“Cut it out, Spike! Wait…how are you holding that? And,” he said, turning to Buffy, “how are you sitting on the desk?”

Buffy shrugged.

“I dunno. After we had sex, Spike sat on your desk and actually sat.”

“Yeah…sorry about the mess, Peaches.”

“But no one can see you yet.”

“Obviously, Poofter, hence the scary floating pen gag.”

“Hey,” Buffy mused, “Maybe having sex is the key!”

“I thought the Bit was the Key,” Spike said with a laugh.

“No, really…we started to get more form after we….”

“So you’re saying if we….”

“Yeah.”

“And then we’ll be….”

“Yeah.”

“So you want to….”

Buffy smirked.

“Yeah.”

“Right now?”

“Yeah.”

“Naughty Slayer!”

“Horny vampire,” she said, eyeing the bulge in his pants.

“Grossed out vampire,” Angel sighed. “Can’t you guys please go somewhere else if you’re going to do that?”

“Sure, Poofter,” Spike said with a grin, “Back into your office then?”

“No…third floor,” he said, handing Spike a small room key, “That should unlock room 314. It was prepared for a guest I’m expecting today, but I’ll just put her somewhere else.”

Angel sighed when he noticed that the increasingly corporeal visages had left, probably as soon as he told them the room number. He walked, or, rather, trudged, back into his office and grimaced at his desk. When words failed him, he sighed and hung his head in distress.


--


Buffy hovered briefly above Spike before impaling herself on his rigid member. Riding him at a comfortable cantor, Buffy caught his gaze and held it for the entirety of their coupling, dropping it only to blink. As Spike thrust up into her wetness, she rode him into oblivion, finding her own end simultaneously with him. A mutual cry of ecstasy echoed down the empty hallway, the staff still avoiding the building after their encounter with the phantom pen. Buffy rolled off of Spike’s lap, and lay, sprawled out comfortably next to him. He chuckled at her.

“You know, pet, for someone so small, you take up quite a bit of room.”

She scowled.

“You aren’t calling me fat, are you?”

“Of course not, you silly bint.”

“What does that mean?”

“What does what mean?”

“Bint.”

“Bint?”

“Bint.”

“Well…it’s…it’s hard to explain.”

“Why?”

“Because you aren’t British.”

“Oh so first I’m fat and now I’m stupid because I’m not British?”

“No!”

“Giles is British and he never called me a bint.”

“I should hope not. It’s a term of endearment.”

“Sounds more like another ‘b’ word I know.”

“Well, I suppose that’s inevitable…Buffy…bint..bitc…”

“If you value your unlife, you’ll stop right there,” she growled, grabbing his hair.

He chukled.

“Bitch.”

“That’s it!”

Doing quite the opposite of what he expected, Buffy grabbed Spike’s ready member and covered it with her mouth. As she lapped and sucked at his cock, Spike felt himself rising to his end. Just as he was about to find his release into Buffy’s mouth, she stopped, and crawled beside him, closing her eyes and feigning sleep.

“Night!”

Spike growled menacingly at her.

“Oi! Slayer! You’re not gonna finish the job?”

A fake snore rolled through Buffy’s throat, and she stifled a smile. Even as exasperated as he was, Spike caught the slight movements at the corners of her mouth and rolled his tongue behind his teeth, lecherously. Still slick from their last tryst, Spike thrust easily into Buffy, and in moments, achieved orgasm. A greedy hand against her clit drew another series of spasms from Buffy, who pouted a few minutes later.

“Not fair.”

“What do you mean, Slayer?”

“I was asleep…and snoring! You can’t…how did you know I was awake?”

Spike grinned.

“You snore much louder than that normally.”

“Jerk.”

“Hussy.”

“Lifeless vampire.”

“Vampire fucker.”

“Slayer fucker.”

“Bint.”

Buffy smiled and cuddled up against him, appreciating that he hadn’t called her the one word she thought he would use instantly.

“I love you.”

“I love you too…bitch.”


--


A loud crash and the thumping of the bed a floor above her room finally caused Dawn’s anger to boil over.

“Round three? Oh, now that’s it.”

She marched up a floor, enraged and fully intent on giving the unknown offending couple a piece of her mind. She banged loudly on the door, behind which groans and giggles could be heard.

--