CoF - Laure Alexander - TEAOW&S

Summary: I know I said it would be a long while before I wrote in this series again, but I got inspired. It's set about eleven months after The End; Willow and Spike are married; she and Buffy have moved into the mansion. Life is going on.

AUTHOR: Laure Alexander
EMAIL: lara@sunflower.com
RATING: NC-17
PAIRINGS: Willow/Spike
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or any of the characters on the show. Joss Whedon and the WB Network own them (for now). No copyright infringement intended, so please don't sue.
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At the surprised tone in her husband's voice, Willow glanced up from her journal and found him staring out the window into the darkness of an early evening in January. "Again? Is it going to do this every winter?"

"It was seventy degrees today. I had this picnic dinner planned. We'd light a fire on the patio and cuddle on the swing..." Annoyed, Spike stomped away from the window.

"We can still eat the food, right? That's the most important thing these days," she replied, patting the small mound of her stomach.

Spike dropped to his knees beside her and wrapped his arms around her waist, then burrowed his face in her tummy, making her laugh.

"Kind of like the Slayer," he muttered, lifting his head to look up at his wife.

Willow smiled sadly. "She didn't mean it, Spike. The miscarriage last week," she stumbled over the word, not wanting to think about that constant fear, "it threw her for a loop, threw all of us for loops. Naturally she responded with violence. She's sorry she attacked you last night on patrol. She didn't realize it was you. Her Slayer senses are all screwy with hormones."

"I know. She apologized." He rested his head back on her stomach, his hands tightening around her.

"It's not going to happen to me, Will," she soothed, her fingers running gently through his hair. Slowly he looked up at her again, and she read the fear in his expressive eyes, then leaned down to his upturned mouth. "Why don't you go get dinner and bring it up here. We'll have an indoor picnic and then..." Willow grinned wickedly and kissed him again.

With a nod, Spike bounded to his feet and headed out of their sitting room. Over the past summer they'd done some remodeling on the second floor of the mansion, putting in connecting doors and making separate apartments for the two couples, each one including a nursery.

Two days ago, Spike had helped Angel disassemble the crib and other accouterments in the nursery in the elder's suite.

As he trotted down the stairs, Spike couldn't help but feel sorry for his sire and Buffy, and fearfully happy at his own good fortune. Just into her fifth month, Willow was healthy as a horse and the baby was developing normally.

Passing the Library, Spike heard his sire's voice raised in anger, and he instinctively stopped to listen at the slightly open door.

"I'm the Slayer," Buffy protested, her voice full of shocked hurt. "It's my sacred duty."

"As is keeping the Hellmouth sealed," Angel barked in frustration. "You should never have continued patrolling."

Spike's heart nearly broke at the sorrow, shock and shame in the Slayer's voice. His sire was an idiot.

The door burst open and Buffy ran past him, sobbing. Before he could stop himself, Spike was striding into the Library to confront Angel.

"Miscarriages happen. It's not Buffy's fault. She barely knew she was pregnant."

Angel's hand around his throat choked off any further comments. "For six months we tried to get her pregnant. She should have stopped patrolling at the first attempt," he hissed in fury. "I should have chained her to the fucking bed." He flung Spike aside and slammed his fist down on his desk, scattering papers and knocking aside a glass of blood.

Massaging his throat, Spike realized his sire was hurting as much as the Slayer, and compassion flooded him. "Angel...she has to be what she is. You know that."

There were tears in his eyes. "I...I didn't want a baby. She has to have one, but it wasn't going to be mine, and... I'm a fucking vampire. I don't want a squalling brat clinging to my mate. I..."

Taking a step forward, Spike wrapped his arms around Angel's waist and pressed their bodies as close together as possible. Slowly the older male's trembling arms encircled his childe and his head dropped to Spike's shoulder.

As Willow set candles on the mantle and draped a shawl over the long, narrow coffee table, she heard the door across the hall slam hard enough to make the wall shake. Frowning, she padded to the door and peeked out, then crossed the hallway. Closing her eyes, she reached out with her senses to the bond. The nearest presence was Buffy, and she was in pain.

Willow opened the door and hurried through the sitting room into the bedroom. Her best friend lay on her stomach on the bed, sobbing into a pillow, her whole body shuddering. Awkwardly Willow climbed onto the bed and began to stroke Buffy's shoulders.

Knowing who was touching her, Buffy scooted around until her head was in Willow's lap, her arms around her expanding waist.

After several minutes, the tiny blonde finally stopped crying and lifted her head. Delicately Willow brushed the tangled hair away from the tear-streaked cheeks and leaned down to kiss her forehead.

Sniffling, Buffy pushed herself up onto her knees and began to brush the tears from her eyes. "He...he..." Unable to recount the horrible words her lover had said, she shook her head and tightly hugged herself.

Willow tried not to scowl. Her relationship with Angel was no longer full of intense, seething hatred, but they weren't friends. They tolerated each other, much as Drusilla and Buffy did, all to balance the bond.

"Whatever he did, you know he probably didn't mean it," the red head finally said, wincing at the pathetic sound to her statement.

Shocked, Willow paled, then reddened in anger, and slid from the bed to stomp towards the door. Her progress was impeded by the Master of Sunnydale, who barely stopped to lift her off her feet and swing her aside before he was diving onto the bed, squirming his head onto Buffy's knees, and begging forgiveness.

Forcing down the instinctive giggle, Willow waddled from the room and hurried back to her own. She lit the candles and dimmed the lights, then headed into the bedroom to change.

Spike smiled as he listened to Willow humming to herself in the bedroom. Pouring grape juice for her and opening a bottle of beer for himself, he sank down onto the couch, knowing that the wait would be worth it.

Concentrating on Willow he was able to drown out the sounds from across the hall. Apparently his sire was begging forgiveness with his head between the Slayer's legs. Spike chuckled nastily and took a sip of his beer.

The door to the inner room opened and he turned his head in that direction, then nearly spilled his beer on his lap.

Willow stood in the doorway, backlit by the light in the bedroom, which made the thin silk of her emerald green peignoir almost sheer. He could see her enlarged and darkened nipples pressed against the low-cut bodice, and her rounded belly riding high above her curl-shrouded mound. When she moved, her long, slender legs were revealed through hip high slits.

Willow grinned and posed, delighting in the knowledge that even five months pregnant she could arouse him. "You like?"

Nodding, Spike panted unevenly and took a deep drink of beer. He hadn't actually been avoiding her, but they hadn't made love in over two weeks.

Sinking down next to him on the couch, Willow reached for her juice and took a sip, then looked over the array of food spread across the coffee table. "Is that a hot pastrami sandwich?" Stomach rumbling, she grabbed up her current craving and demolished it in five bites.

Bemused and pleased by her hearty appetite, Spike watched his wife eat. Done with the sandwich, Willow crunched on a dill pickle before reaching for a pint of potato salad and a spoon. After she devoured half of it, she guiltily looked up at Spike.

Laughing, he shook his head. "It's more fun watching you eat." Willow licked the spoon and Spike's eyes darkened. "Much more of a turn-on, too." As he spoke, he took the container from her and tossed it onto the table where it overturned and spilled potato salad across the rest of the pickles.

"You're making a mess," Willow murmured, a shiver of desire going through her at the hungry look in his eyes.

"Don't care." Rising to his feet he quickly shucked off his clothing, then pulled her up to join him. The open robe slipped to the floor, but when she made a move to pull down the straps of the gown, he shook his head, then pulled her into his arms to kiss her.

Clutching his shoulders, Willow responded eagerly, her body quickly aflame with desire. As their lips twisted together, their tongues tangling and their teeth clashing, Spike used one foot to shove most of the food off the coffee table. Spinning Willow around, he carefully lowered her until her hands were braced on the table, her legs spread for balance.

"Shhhhh..." Dropping to his knees behind her, he lifted the silk skirt up and over her curvy bottom. "No knickers. Very naughty." Smiling broadly, he breathed in the heady scent of her arousal, then began to place nipping kisses across her bottom and upper thighs.

Pleasure pulsed through her, centering on her unattended clit, and Willow moaned loudly. Spike took one quivering thigh in each hand, then nuzzled his nose into her hot, wet cleft.

"Patience," he chided, then flicked out his tongue to lave her dripping entrance.

Willow shuddered, and she dropped her head to look between her legs. In a heated daze, she watched his tongue lap up and down her inner thighs, never quite touching her where she wanted.

Spike snickered and buzzed her anus, making her gasp and squirm in embarrassed desire, then he ran his tongue down her crevice and wriggled it into her overflowing quim.

Feeling her sway in his hands, Spike quickly pulled back and jumped to his feet, pulling her up with him.

"Sorry, luv." He peppered her hot face with kisses. "I'll make it up to you." Sitting on the end of the table, he lay back, his head just staying on the other end, and braced his feet on the floor on either side. One foot landed in a pile of fruit salad, and he cursed.

Willow giggled, then crawled over him. There was just enough room on either side of his hips for her knees. Looking down, she grinned as his cock waved back at her. "We could go to the bedroom, you know."

"Don't think I can wait that long," Spike replied, grimacing as her fingers stroked lightly over his swollen shaft.

Arching one eyebrow at him in delight, Willow pulled the gown up around her waist and scooted forward. With a groan of pleasure, Spike guided her down onto his cock.

"You...you tell me if I hurt..." he managed to get out before his eyes crossed as her inner muscles began to flutter around him.

As far away from hurt as she could possibly be, Willow began to rock her hips, driving his cock along her sensitive, swollen passage. One of Spike's hands rose to cup a breast, and then he hesitated.

Still, he fondled her large breast gently through the silk, his thumb brushing back and forth across her hardened peak.

Leaning down, Willow ran her hands up and down his pale chest, her fingers tweaking his nipples, as she increased the speed of her movements.

Spike let her take the lead, laying shuddering beneath her as she began to bounce harder, slapping their pelvises together. With his free hand, he caught her nightgown and pulled it aside, lifting his head to watch their bodies join beneath the mound of their child. Suddenly helpless against the lust burning through him, he thrust convulsively upwards, driving their bodies together.

With a loud grunt, he climaxed, spilling his semen in hard spasms into her hot depths.

As Spike collapsed beneath her, gasping her name, Willow continued to rock slowly for a minute, desire still shimmering through her, then lifted herself off him. Her legs trembled, but she managed to get turned around, then lowered herself over his mouth. Spike caught her hips, guiding her down, as she draped herself down his body and began to lick their essences from his half-hard cock.

With a groan, Spike buried his mouth in her, licking and sucking her labia and clit until her orgasm crashed over them both.

Much later, the lovers reclined in a tub of warm water. Part of the remodeling project had been new bathrooms with two- person Jacuzzi tubs and separate orgy sized shower stalls. They wouldn't use the jets during Willow's pregnancy, but she enjoyed cuddling in Spike's arms as warm water washed over them.

As Willow lay drowsing, Spike, energized and horny again, bounced a rubber duck up and down her tummy.

The image of him bathing their child in this tub, playing with rubber ducks and little boats, filled him with such pleasure, he nearly choked on the emotion. Instead, he closed his eyes against the tears and wrapped his arms around his wife and child.

Still later, once Willow was sound asleep in their warm bed, Spike slipped from the room wearing only a pair of low-slung sweat pants that did nothing to conceal his rampant erection, and ran straight into his sire, in a similar condition.

The two males grinned wolfishly at each other and loped down the hall to the nearest, empty bed.

An answer to a challenge: Spike/Willow, R or NC17; some angst, some smut, some drama, some romance; a rubber ducky, candles, a ruined meal, a green outfit, and snow.

These authors spend lots of time to write these stories. If you took the time to read this PLEASE take the time to give them some feedback. Happy writers write more ;-)

Laure Alexander - lara@sunflower.com

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