Title: Ever Aftering 3/3
Author: Gail Christison
Rating: NC-17 for romantic and erotic sexual situations. English spelling.
Aussies do, y'know
Summary: Sequel to Recognition. Buffy and Giles continue their romance, and
love and silliness ensues...and sometimes it just gets a little hot ;-)
Spoilers: Not really
Disclaimer: All belongs to Mutant Enemy and Joss. I'm just borrowing for a
little while :-)
Feedback: I'd love to know what you think. chriscln@ozemail.com.au
Distribution: All those who have permission. And my site,
http://www.wickedsky.com/oncemore within the next couple of days.
Author's notes: This is a combination sequel of Recognition for those who asked
for one, and a birthday fic for the wonderful and talented Gileswench, which
had to include certain challenges, naughty and otherwise, which I'm sure you'll
spot when you're reading the story :-)
Big thank yous to Liz, Cindy and Wench, for their encouragement and a special
wave to Karen for her beta at short notice.
Happy Early Birthday Wenchy!!!
Soon their vocalisations grew more urgent, speeding up as their coupling became more and more frenzied...until they both cried out, rattling the rafters with their shouts as their bodies exploded, writhing together as waves and waves of ecstasy broke over them, seemingly not willing to end.
When they finally grew quiet, Giles withdrew. When she slid down, he lifted her silently into his arms, carrying her to their bed and quietly cleaning them both before sliding under the covers to take her in his arms.
They held each other for a long time before Buffy turned in his arms and raised herself enough to look at him, her eyes searching his...and found his just as unsure, just as concerned.
She reached out and traced his jaw, followed by his sexy mouth...and then bent down and kissed him very tenderly.
"I love you so much," she whispered.
The green eyes widened, then grew very bright as he slid his fingers into her hair, his palm cupping her cheek.
"It doesn't frighten you?" he whispered, surprising her.
"You...Ripper? Not for a long time," she replied softly, shaking her head in his hand. "Does it frighten you...what I am?"
He caressed her hair and shook his own head. "You were magnificent...breathtaking, just as you were the last time..."
She smiled a little more confidently. "It's a little scary, even for me...that part of me. So much past badness...but when you're all Ripper," she added, her eyes lighting up, "I just want to...well, you know..."
Giles nodded, watching the delightful flush of pink in her cheeks. "I know."
Buffy answered the nod, having heard the unspoken words, the tension leaving her as she bent to meet his lips in a tender, loving kiss that continued for some time.
"Dessert," Buffy announced apropos of nothing, when they finally lifted their heads.
Giles laughed involuntarily. "What...?"
She grinned. "We didn't have dessert. Is there anything sweet in the place? I so need some sugar."
He slapped her rump just loudly enough to make a noise. "You need a lot more than sugar...you've wasted away to a shadow."
"Hey, there's been no wasting. I'm perfectly fine for my little bones," she pouted.
He snorted. "Little bones. Next you'll be telling me it's normal for a woman to have the waist measurement of a man's head."
Buffy started to look genuinely concerned. "You don't like the way I look?"
Giles suppressed a smile. "You are beautiful, and you know it, but I don't have to be happy with you starving yourself to conform to some artificial value system in the name of fashion. You used to have the most wonderful curves..."
Buffy didn't know whether to be happy about the beautiful comment, or bereft because he didn't like what she'd done to her body, since his tone told her that he was equally sincere about both.
"Curves are made of fat," she muttered. "And Slayers have fast metabolisms."
"Curves are what make you a woman, Buffy. They have done since the beginning of time and no wealthy, effete fashion mogul or greedy, manipulative advertising executive should be dictating the health and well being of thousands and thousands of women. Do you know how much long term damage you're doing to yourself with this wasting?"
"I'm not wasting," she objected strenuously. "I just...don't eat very much."
He gave her 'the look' again. "When your calorific intake is vastly below what is required for your energy needs and for the good health of your body, the term is 'wasting'," he growled.
"Are we fighting?" she asked carefully.
He blinked. "We're having a discussion," he said brusquely.
Buffy considered that one for a moment then grinned. "As long as we're not fighting. Cos' I'd much rather jump your bones again than spoil our day."
He gave a shout of laughter. "I'm good, but not that good," he growled and changed the subject back to food. If he could get her to eat more, so much the better... "The only sweet things I have in the place are what little I laid in for future visits by Xander and Dawn. And we've eaten the donuts."
"I saw chocolate fudge sauce," she said suddenly. "I know I saw it, with a packet of peanuts, little marshmallows and an unopened package of glacé cherries."
"Well at least your observation training seems to still be in tact," he drawled.
Buffy made a face. "So when were the banana splits supposed to happen?"
He tilted his head endearingly. "Dawn is particularly fond of creating them. And I rather expected to be babysitting quite regularly."
"Good point," she agreed. "So...you want?"
It seemed absurd to be contemplating dessert when all he really wanted to do was to go back to sleep with his love in his arms.
"Yes, all right," he conceded in spite of himself. "Not too much, mind..."
Buffy surveyed her treasure, spread out as it was on the breakfast counter. Chocolate fudge sauce, peanuts, marshmallows, glacé cherries, a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream obviously meant for Dawn, whose favourite it was, and a can of whipped cream, found wedged, lying down, behind the imported beer, with the bottle of capers and the package of cracked pepper pate.
Giles was dozing when Buffy returned with her tray. She slid it on the side table and crawled into the bed, swimming in the Harry Potter T-shirt, and kissed him first on the lips, then the nose.
"I'm back."
"Apparently," he rumbled without opening his eyes. "Was your hunt for sweetness a success?"
"Sorta. You forgot to buy fruit of any kind, so it's kinda splits without the bananas."
"Wonderful...in that case can I just stay asleep?"
"No," she objected and kissed him again. "I made it. Now you have to eat it with me."
He felt her get off the bed again, heard spoons tinkling against glass and then felt Buffy climbing back into the bed. Reluctantly, he opened one eye, then the other.
"Good Lord!"
Buffy looked at him then at her creation then scowled at him. "I think it's pretty."
She had used a cut glass salad bowl, filling it with a mountainous concoction of ice cream scoops, great whorls of whipped cream, crushed nuts, cherries, marshmallows, and rivers of chocolate sauce. He groaned.
"I thought you didn't eat much?" he complained gruffly.
"I thought you wanted me to eat more? Remember that Slayer metabolism I was telling you about...now do you believe me?"
He pulled himself to a sitting position and shoved a pillow or two into the small of his back.
"Do I have a choice?"
Buffy handed him the bowl. "Share," she commanded and wriggled up to sit beside him, leaning against his shoulder.
Giles took the long handled spoon, but instead of trying the nightmarish confection himself, dipped the spoon into it and brought it to Buffy's lips.
"Don't think I don't know what you're up to, Mister," she growled, then opened her mouth and slipped the glob of ice cream, cream, chocolate and nuts off the cold spoon. When the bowl was about half-empty they took a break and Buffy commandeered the spoon. "I know I'm not the sharpest sword in your collection, but I did happen to notice that I was getting three or four spoonfuls to your one, Rupert sweetie," she pointed out in a voice dripping with sarcasm.
He kissed the top of her head. "You may be able to deal with blood that's eighty-five percent sugar, love. I'm having enough trouble with your dessert mixing with the peas and all the other rubbish we've eaten. Lord alone knows what my digestion is going to make of the avalanche of sugar on top of them, and the greasy..." He suddenly realised that his tact meter was bottoming out. "...But delicious...bacon and eggs."
"You forgot the donuts," Buffy pointed out grumpily.
Giles started to feel queasy. "I'd like to," he grumbled and closed his eyes when Buffy started on the second half of her dessert, more to make him feel worse than because she really wanted it.
"Wimp," she jeered around a mouthful of ice cream.
He opened his eyes again, stuck his fingers in a small reservoir of chocolate sauce pooling on the quarried-out side of the bowl and painted her surprised face and nose with them.
"I rather thought I'd already provided my decidedly non wimpy credentials today," he pointed out while she was still blinking in surprise.
Buffy roused and dove her fingers into the now half-melted confection.
"Multiple orgasms makes you a stud...a *wimpy* stud," she retorted and took hold of something with her cold, sticky hand that made Giles shriek like a girl. "See," she giggled, then dived out of the way, but not before his latest handful of dessert hit her in the face, leaving whipped cream and ice cream in her hair, and chocolate sauce tricking decoratively down her forehead and over her nose.
"You...you...librarian!!!" she wailed, using his good sheet to unsuccessfully wipe the mess away.
He made a disapproving face. "Oh, good show. Now we've got to change the bed."
Buffy opened her mouth to tell him what he could do with his bed and found it stuffed full of more dessert. Her eyes got very round and her cheeks very bright, then caught the self-satisfied look on his face and started to laugh, or at least to try not to choke on the food as she swallowed and giggled at the same time. By the time the giggling had won out there was cream, chocolate sauce and bits of cherry and nuts everywhere on her and on the bed. She grabbed a handful of cream and threw it at him just because. Then both of them dove for the bowl at the same time and in fits of laughter each strove to be the one who did the best job of body painting on the other.
They were on their way across the living room, hair and face plastered with Buffy's dessert, carrying all of the spoiled bedclothes to the laundry and taking their almost unrecognisable, chocolate and cream streaked, naked selves to the shower, when the front door rattled open.
Too late to run, both of them froze on the spot, making futile attempts to hide behind their armfuls of sheets, blankets and pillowcases.
"Um...Hi Xander..."
The End.