"Becoming a Man For Her"

Author: Laure Alexander
Email: laurealexander@hotmail.com
Notes: See end of story for note on my LJ "love" poll and why I went the way I did. One more story and then an epilogue.
Dedication: To Mary Ann, see the note at the end. :)

"What about this one? Two bedroom, one bath, basement apartment with fireplace." Buffy started to circle the advertisement, but then saw the look on her boyfriend's face."What?"

"Not squatting in a basement."

"How's that different than a musty crypt?"

"It's above ground."

Buffy snorted and circled the listing in the newspaper with her red pen any way. "Well, what are you looking for? A penthouse with a skylight?"

"Sarcastic mouths get smacked."

She snorted again and went back to perusing the ads. They were sitting at the bar in her mom's kitchen, eating leftover pizza and getting nowhere on the apartment search. The only thing all of them had in common was they were cheap for California. Otherwise Spike found fault with every one.

Spike sipped his mug of blood and tried not to smirk at the scowl on her face. Buffy was so adorable when she was pissy and pouty. Made him want to kiss her and spank her all at the same time.

That thought made him shift uncomfortably on the stool as his cock hardened. They hadn't played spanking games yet. He wondered if she'd be into it.

"Earth to bleached moron, come in moron."

"Huh?"

Rolling her eyes, Buffy tapped the newspaper with her pen. "This is the last listing. If you don't want to see this one, I'm getting you that one in the basement of the doll shop."

"God no."

"This one's in a good neighborhood, not that that's saying much around here, two bedroom, one and a half bath, first floor with covered patio, lots of internal light and unique features. Geez, it sounds like it was made for a vampire."

"No self-respecting vampire rents an apartment."

"Uh huh." She picked up the phone and dialed before he could protest, and Spike sat back to watch her get all animated talking to the realtor. He wondered if they had time for a quick shag before Joyce got home....

"We're in luck," Buffy said, hanging up the phone. "The realtor is headed over there to change some light bulbs and we can meet her there."

Spike sighed heavily, pretending to be massively put-upon, then finished his blood. "Fine. I won't like it, though. There was that lovely crypt over in Restfield..."

"No crypts."

"It's always been my dream to see you draped over a stone sarcophagus, legs open, dew dripping down your thighs, mouth open begging me..."

"I don't beg," she protested, flushing prettily. It had been a few days since they'd been together, and his voice could turn so seductive when he tried. "Come on, Spike. The sooner you find an apartment, the sooner we can go buy a really big bed for it."

"Not the same as a sarcophagus," he muttered, but hopped off the stool and willed his erection away.

Spike stood in the middle of the living room looking out through the glass doors to the awning covered patio. The curtains were heavy and dark, and there were lots of lights--sconces, track lighting, spots. The bedrooms each had one window, also heavily curtained, and the fireplace was gas so no chance of flambeed vampire. He had to admit that it was a nice place-- dark wood floors, pale cream walls, up-to-date appliances in the kitchen, an overlarge Jacuzzi tub in the bathroom over which Buffy was currently squealing. The bedrooms had soft carpets in a deep navy and dark wood trim. It was a very masculine space.

But, he could picture Buffy lounging nude and glistening in the tub, pressed nude and perspiring against the stainless steel refrigerator, sprawled nude and needy on a rug before the fireplace.

Getting hard again, he groaned to himself and followed the sounds of Buffy and the realtor going over various details of the place. Might as well get it over with.

Finding Buffy plopped down in the middle of the tub, smiling happily, he forced down an answering smile and turned to the overeager realtor. "So, where do I sign?"

"You're going to take it?" Buffy asked excitedly, jumping to her feet and scrambling out of the tub. "Really?"

He shrugged. "One place is as good as the next."

"I saw the perfect dinette set..." She shut up when he pushed a finger against her lips.

"You two are so perfect together." The realtor beamed. Buffy beamed.

Spike groaned beneath his breath and took the application the realtor handed him.

"I'll need to run a credit check, call your references, and I'll need a deposit and first month's rent, but I expect everything will go smoothly and you can move in on the first."

"That's a week from now."

"We don't pro-rate. It's easier this way and our lawyer doesn't fuss."

"You can stay with me until then," Buffy offered. "It'll give us plenty of time to go shopping."

"I have stuff in storage."

"Huh?"

"Stuff, y'know, inherited antique stuff. Furniture, rugs, paintings, that kind of stuff."

"This space is really designed to highlight antiques," the realtor added assuredly. She led them back into the main room where Spike leaned against the bar and started filling out the application. "We'd be happy to add any lighting you desire to show off your artwork."

"Ta," Spike mumbled as he tried to remember his middle name.

Leaving the apartment with a semi-shell shocked Spike, Buffy wrapped her arm through his and cuddled close to him. "See? Not so bad."

"Nine hundred dollars a month? That would feed, house and clothe a family of ten in my day for a year."

"You're muttering, honey."

"I should make Angel pay for it, be his kept boy."

Buffy snickered. "We could get you a collar."

"Oh, you're so funny."

"Yes, I know I am."

At the sound of the front door opening, Joyce looked up from the newspaper and reached for the remote to turn off a boring reality show. She smiled at the sight of Buffy and Spike holding hands as they entered the living room.

"So, where have you two been?"

"Hell."

"Apartment hunting," Buffy corrected, punching Spike in the arm.

"Ow!"

"Baby."

"It was hell, Joyce. There was a perky realtor and everything. In the good old days I would have eaten her in a heartbeat."

Choosing to ignore all that, Joyce asked, "Why are you apartment hunting?"

Spike's shoulders stiffened and his chin rose. "Decided to try to live like a normal bloke."

"Angel kicked him out of his club."

"Clan, get it right, slayer, and he did no such thing."

Buffy snorted and plopped down on the couch next to her mom. "Whatever. I heard it from the horse's..."

"Rear end?" Spike supplied eagerly.

"You two are so cute. Like Hepburn and Tracy."

"Who?"

Spike rolled his eyes and sank into the rocking chair. "You did a piss poor job at raising this girl with any culture, Joyce."

Joyce sighed in agreement. "I know. But now that she's with you I expect her knowledge of art and music will increase dramatically."

"From mister punk rock?"

"Punk rock has deep societal context."

"Before this digresses any further, did you find an apartment, Spike?" Joyce interceded.

"I agreed to see one place. Luckily it fit my needs, though I still say a crypt..." He broke off at the look Buffy shot him. "Have to pass muster first. I put you down as a reference, hope that's okay."

"Sure. Are you going by William Addington again?"

Spike shrugged. "Figured no one else has in two hundred years."

Buffy stared at her mom. "You know his real name?"

"Of course. So, where is this place?"

"Off Bleeker and Oak, looks like a remodeled turn of the century place. High ceilings, wood floors, but with all the modern touches."

"The big white house?"

Spike nodded. "Got those huge old oak trees in the front yard shading everything."

"I went to an open house in one of those apartments. Your rosewood dining set will look really good in there."

"I have those navy brocade matching sofas, too, that are still in really good condition. Might need a bit of touch up."

"I know just the person."

"HEY," Buffy yelled. "How come my mom knows so much more about my boyfriend than I do?"

Spike grinned. "Look at that pout."

"Maybe you should talk to him more often," Joyce said succinctly, an eyebrow arched at her daughter.

"Er...yeah..." Buffy flushed. "Along that line sort of, he can't move in for a week and Angel kicked him out..." At Spike's growl, she rolled her eyes. "Okay, he moved out of the clan place so can he stay in the basement?"

"And where will you be staying?"

"In my room."

"And I became an idiot when?" Joyce asked pointedly.

"We gave you our word we wouldn't fool around beneath your roof, luv. Don't worry."

Joyce sighed softly and rubbed her temple. "I've said it before, a mother should never know that her teenage daughter is having sex. I mean, how can I prevent it? I can't, right? So, isn't it better to know that it's going on in a comfortable bed rather than in the backseat of my car--you haven't done anything in my car, have you?" At Buffy's quick shake of her head, she continued with another sigh, "So, I should just be a cool mom and say it's okay for the two of you...here...in my house...I wonder if I still have those earplugs from my last overseas flight..."

Grinning, Buffy wrapped her arms around Joyce and hugged her tightly. "You're the coolest mom ever."

"I dunno, seems wrong to not have to sneak around." Spike's stupid pondering was cut off by a cushion thrown at his head.

Buffy sat on the edge of the cot, one leg swinging over the other, hands braced on either side of her as she watched Spike putter around the basement organizing his change of clothes, cartons of cigarettes and other bits of minutia. "Mom said we could do it in my bed."

Spike shook his head. "That would feel too weird."

"But down here is okay?" she asked skeptically.

He shrugged. "A couple of floors apart works for me."

Laughing, Buffy kicked off her shoes. "You are so odd sometimes."

"Yeah, I'm dating the Slayer, can't get odder than that." Running a hand through his hair, he looked at her sitting there smiling at him and felt warmth rush through him. Odd but...right. Walking over to her, he dropped easily to a crouch and lightly placed his hands on her thighs. She wore only a thin skirt and he could feel the heat of her warming his palms. He heard her breath catch in her throat and looked up into her glittering eyes. "It's been a while," he murmured.

Buffy's brow furrowed in confusion. "Just a couple nights..."

A shake of his head cut her off. "That doesn't count. That wasn't making love." The hitch in his voice surprised them both, and he looked away in embarrassment. The touch of her fingers on his cheek drew his gaze back to hers.

She was smiling. "We've been making love?"

"Hasn't been just sex in a long time, Buffy."

"I know." Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes and she blinked futility before leaning down and kissing him.

"No crying, luv. It kills me." His voice was tight with emotion as he brushed his thumbs over her damp cheeks.

"Happy tears."

"Are you? Happy?"

Her smile widened. "Yeah, bozo, I am. You gave up so much for me, went against your very nature. That means more than I can say." Kissing him again, she wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers sliding into his hair to massage his scalp until he purred against her lips. His hands wandered down her back, then beneath her shirt to play along her spine, sending shivers through her. Together they removed her shirt leaving her in a skimpy peach lace bra.

"This is pretty." Spike traced one finger down the strap and along the lacy upper curve of the cup. "I can see your hard little nipples, though."

"Decoration," Buffy breathed, "Not really meant to cover anything." She gasped as his thumb brushed across one of her sensitive nipples, rubbing the soft lace against her skin.

"I think we'll leave it on. Lean back and watch what I do to you."

Intrigued, Buffy did so, dragging a pillow behind her as she reclined against the wall. Sitting back on his heels, Spike parted her thighs and inched her skirt up. As he did so, he bent his head and licked at the skin he uncovered. The scent of her arousal filled him and he groaned and scraped his bottom teeth along a patch of thigh.

Breathing harder with each lick and nip, Buffy watched the bleached blond head between her legs as it drew closer to where her legs joined. The skirt slid as far as it would go, and Spike lifted her hips to pull the cloth to her waist, revealing a pair of matching peach lace panties. Dipping his head, he nuzzled at the wet crotch, finally pressing his tongue down over her clit.

Buffy moaned loudly and squirmed as pleasure flooded her. Her legs began to shake and she raised them, resting her bare heels on the edge of the cot, her knees falling flat to the mattress. Spike cupped her hips in his hands and lifted her enough to tug her panties down to her ankles. He gazed down at her spread open for him--her labia wet and swollen, the dark curls barely shrouding her clit that rose high and flushed with blood--and softly growled.

Lowering his head, he sucked that button between his lips and worried it with his tongue.

"Oh...fuck..." Buffy felt the orgasm rip through her without any warning, leaving her mewling and writhing against his mouth. As she slumped back, panting, she felt his tongue lapping up and down her cleft, bathing her of her juices and arousing her all over again. When it slipped inside her and fluttered, she groaned and dug her fingers into the bedding.

His cock throbbing trapped behind the zipper of his jeans, Spike drank down her secretions, for the moment ignoring his own need, as he ruthlessly built Buffy's desire again. Thrusting his tongue into her, he rubbed his nose over her clit, stimulating two of her most sensitive spots. His hands squeezed her bottom, guiding her to his lips and tongue, moving her just the way he wanted.

Her gasps grew in intensity and he heard the rustle of hands on lace, knew without looking that she was kneading her breasts. Dragging his tongue slowly up her cleft, he flicked it across her clit a final time, before pushing himself to his feet. Looking down at her, watching her caress herself, seeing her eyes dazed and hungry, he felt his cock throb again, pushing painfully against its denim prison. With a groan, he stripped off his shirt, kicked off his boots, then tugged down his jeans, hissing in relief as his cock popped free. It was dripping and aching and if he wasn't inside her in ten seconds he was going to explode.

Grabbing Buffy's ankles, Spike flipped her over, then grabbed her waist and pulled her up onto her hands, her feet finding purchase on the floor on either side of his. Somehow he managed to free her of her skirt while keeping her panties around her ankles, and he tossed it across the room. One arm around her waist, he used the fingers of his other hand to open her for him, and with a grunt and a hard thrust was inside her. Another thrust and he was buried to the hilt, feeling her wet, hot inner flesh squeezing his cock. Legs trembling, he pulled back again and thrust again, smacking his pelvis sharply against her upturned bottom.

"Harder," Buffy panted, all the blood rushing to her face except for the bit pooled deep inside her and making her clit ache. When he drove into her deeper and faster, nearly sending her off her feet, she cried out. When his fingers pinched her clit, she bit her lip and came again, shuddering and whimpering.

Feeling her orgasm around his cock, Spike growled and spilled into her in hard, short bursts, his whole body shaking with release. As he pulled free of her and forced himself upright, he watched her topple onto her side and draw her legs up onto the cot. Her pretty panties were still twisted around her ankles, and he reached down to draw them up to just behind her knees.

Buffy rolled onto her back and stretched her arms over her head, a shiver of languid pleasure going through her.

"Decadent," Spike murmured, his eyes drifting down her body. "Sybaritic." As she shifted, lifting one leg and placing her foot down on the mattress, drawing the lace and silk tight between her knees, Spike licked his suddenly dry lips and felt his cock twitch. "Golden girl."

"You're babbling, honey," she teased, smiling up at him, her eyes firmly resting on his cock which began to rise again under her gaze. "Umm...ready for more?"

He didn't answer her, but turned to look around the room. Finding what he was looking for on a work bench, he went to fetch it, then returned to her, dropping down at her feet.

"Scissors?"

"Hope these didn't cost too much." As he spoke, he caught the crotch of her panties in one hand and began to snip out a hole in them.

"I can tell that a lot of your non-existent income is going to go towards replacing my panties. I think you're going to have to get a job."

Glowering at her, Spike tossed the scissors under the bed, then wriggled the panties back up her legs and hips. The hole was conveniently placed. "Hope it's big enough."

Buffy snickered and reached for him, drawing him down to her for a hungry kiss. "Kinky," she moaned, nipping his lower lip as he settled over her.

Braced on one hand, Spike slipped his cock through the hole in her underwear then into her. As he thrust, the lace rubbed against his shaft then caught his balls, pressing them high and cradling them. Her inner flesh, still hot and swollen from before, suckled at him as he pressed as deeply as he could.

Lowering his head, he kissed her softly, sucking her tongue into his mouth to play with it as his hips began to rock, driving his cock into her, pressing the lace against her hard clit. As Buffy moaned into the kiss, he caught her hands in his and entwined their fingers over her head. Her legs found their way around his hips and she began to rise up to meet his thrusts, rubbing their bodies together, the torn lace stimulating them both.

"Spike," she breathed, arching her head back into the pillow as her body bowed off the bed. He was moving slowly, maddeningly, building her desire to a burning point. Her breasts slid over his chest, the nipples so sensitive she hissed at the touch of his cool flesh to those hard nubbins. Her legs shook, tightened around him, and she lifted her head for another kiss.

Spike responded hungrily, his lips twisting over hers, even as he kept control over his cock, keeping the pace slow and deliberate. As she clenched around him, he broke the kiss to pant harshly against her heated cheek, and felt her teeth catch his ear, bite hard enough to send a shudder of lust pounding through him.

Gritting his teeth, he pulled his hips back until he nearly slipped out of her, then took a deep breath before slamming into her. Buffy yelled and bucked beneath him, her fingernails digging into the backs of his hands, her heels kicking his hips. As another orgasm exploded through her and she clamped every muscle she could around him, Spike groaned and shuddered and babbled, "Oh fuck, luv, so good, so perfect," and joined her in release.

Slumped over her, panting airlessly against her neck, their bodies still joined, he smiled sappily as he listened to her whimpering softly beneath him. Slowly he lifted his head and looked down at her flushed face and glistening eyes. "Happy, baby?"

"I think I'm dead," she moaned, grinning back at him. When he started to move off of her, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held him still. "Don't. I like you here."

"I'm crushing you."

"Slayer, remember?" She pressed her lips to his shoulder, then nipped him, making him groan. "We fit just right together."

"Yeah. Weird as it may be." He propped himself up on his elbows, feeling his cock gradually hardening again inside her fluttering passage.

Buffy smiled as she let her hands wander down his back, feeling the play of muscles and bone beneath her touch, knowing that the cool dry feel of his skin was all she'd ever want. When her hands gripped his ass she felt his cock shift inside her and a spark of desire was lit. "I think it's a good thing I'm a Slayer and you're a vampire or we'd probably be dead from exhaustion by morning."

"Slain by my cock?" He wriggled his hips and slid deeper inside her.

Laughing, Buffy arched her hips to his. "Ass."

"You're the one holding it."

Kissing and laughing, they began the loving all over again.

They lay on the sides, Spike spooned behind Buffy, a blanket over them so that if Joyce wandered down she wouldn't find Spike's hand cupping her daughter's breast, his leg nestled between hers, and their bodies slippery and glistening from several orgasms.

"I never thought we'd end up like this," he murmured.

"Me neither. I couldn't believe how quickly I came to crave you after that encounter in the store room at mom's gallery. I hated that desire for a long time, but I couldn't stay away from you. Still, a real relationship wasn't anything I gave much thought to."

Spike nibbled on her ear lobe and nodded. "Me neither, though sometimes I think I was just in denial. I remember the first time I saw you. Couldn't decide if I wanted to kill you or fuck you."

"You went with the killing you option," she replied dryly.

"Don't remind me. I have a permanent bump on my head from your mum's axe. But, seriously, I never could seem to kill you or even go after you with any real intent."

"And I never seemed to be able to stake you. Guess that's all a good thing considering."

Smiling, Spike slipped his hand over to other breast to play languidly with it as he thought about all the things that had led them to this point.

"Umm, I like it when you hold me like this," Buffy moaned softly, too tired for any more sex, but enjoying his gentle caresses.

Spike snickered. "I have an ulterior motive. I figure if I keep you on edge until you fall asleep, when you wake up in the morning I won't have to do more than spread your legs..."

Buffy reached back and smacked him in the head as she laughed. "Again, I proclaim you ass." Turning in his arms to face him, she snuggled against his chest. "My ass."

"I've been called worse."

Yawning and blinking her sleepy eyes, Buffy changed the subject. "Tomorrow we have to face the inquisition. I have to tell Giles."

Spike groaned. "He's going to want my balls."

"Yeah, probably."

"He's never going to believe I've changed, that I want to be with you, that I'm willing to turn away from my nature and play nice with the humans."

"He'll have to give you a chance. I won't take no for an answer from him. And you'll just have to prove to him that you really are a good guy."

He scowled at her. "Bite your tongue."

"I'm serious," she said softly and the scowl vanished from his face. "You're amazing. You, a vampire, one of the most deadly and destructive, have come to care for a Slayer, enough to leave behind your own kind and make a life with her. I think you'll fight beside me, too." Before he could protest or agree, she pressed her fingers to his lips. "No, don't say it now. I'm not going to push you. I'm not rushing anything. I've done that before with disastrous results. We're going to date and we're going to make love and it's up to you what else you want to do. But you've already changed so much."

"Can't help it. There's something about you that, while annoying, makes me want to be a good man. Dunno if it's possible."

"We'll see, day by day." They kissed tenderly, a kiss of potential, finally parting with soft sighs. As she looked up into his dark blue eyes, her lips twisted slightly as another thought hit her. "Oh, and Spike? Giles is going to want to know what you're up to with this Feast of Devonnia thingie. You better have a good answer for him."

The deer in the headlights look from him made her snicker.

 

The End

Note: Next part soon.  I know just what's going to happen and just where Dru is.

Thanks to those who participated in my LJ poll re: who says 'I love you' first.  Originally I'd written that Spike said it first and then Buffy, which went against the poll, though it was close (13- 9 for Buffy first).  I had good reasons, too, all listed here, then Mary Ann voted for neither which threw me for a loop!  A loop, I say. *g*

But, seriously, it made me realize it was just too soon.  They're barely past the nearly non-con sex and break-up, and have only been really dating for about a month.  So, I rewrote the end totally and I like it a lot more and Mary Ann is always right. :)