Glow

I wrote this fic for the birthday of Sandy S. It fills her request for the Spuffy Kinkathon (since the person assigned to write for her didn't follow her request!)

Here's her original request:

Your Kink: sunlight
Three other requests for your fic: post-NFA, Oz having a role in the fic somehow, some of the old way Buffy and Spike used to interact (without the abuse) balanced with the gentleness between them
Up to two restrictions for your fic (anything you don't want to see): don't make it all fluff, not too angsty
Rating preference (a range is helpful here): PG-R

So, this fic comes on the heels of two other short ficlets I wrote earlier this year. You don't have to read them to understand. They explain how Spike arrives in Rome to find Buffy after the big fight in NFA. If you are curious, the first one is here and the sort of sequel is here. Again, all you really need to know is that Spike survived the battle in NFA and showed up in Rome shortly thereafter to find Buffy. And I guess that's enough of a summary!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three months since the day Spike arrived bruised and bloody on her doorstep. Three months of reminding herself why she missed him, why she mourned him - and why she loves him.

Buffy smiles at Spike’s back as he stands at the stove and studies the muscles in his bare back shifting as he stirs. Her eyes drop lower, mouth frowning at the fact that he put jeans on when they fell out of bed this morning. “Remember, I like my eggs runny.”

He doesn’t turn to answer her. “And your bacon burnt. Yes, love, I know.”

She can hear the grin in his voice. Her whole body feels at once relaxed with the ease of it all and coiled tight with emotion. She never would have expected to find this place with Spike. They have a routine now. They wake up together. He cooks her breakfast. It’s normal and maybe to some, it’s boring, but for Buffy, it’s the world. Because he knows. He knows things like how she likes her bacon as well as things like the effect of kissing her just behind her ear. And she knows the same kind of things about him. He prefers his blood a little warmer than body temperature and likes it - a lot - when she wakes him up with a kiss. She can’t help smiling at him, even when he can’t see her. It’s downright sappy and occasionally nauseating to those around them. Dawn’s repeated sounds of retching when they curl up on the couch testify to that part.

“What time will Oz get here?” Spike turns slightly, tipping her eggs onto a plate next to three pieces of extremely crispy bacon.

Buffy snaps herself out of her thoughts to answer. “Oh, about ten, I think.”

Spike brings the plate over and sets it in front of Buffy, who is sipping her coffee, wearing only one of his t-shirts. “Just about enough time then.” He turns the nearest chair around backwards and sits down straddling it.

Grabbing a piece of bacon and crunching down happily, Buffy looks at him questioningly. “Time for what? It’s only about half past eight now.”

He leans forward, chin resting on his crossed arms atop the chair back. “Then, I suggest you eat a bit faster, pet.” He lifts his eyebrows suggestively and Buffy nearly chokes on her bacon.

“You’re unbelievable.” Buffy rolls her eyes, nibbles on the bacon. She licks her lips, looking at Spike the whole time.

“I know, love. That’s why I can’t understand while you’re still eating.” Spike darts his tongue out, catching it between his teeth as he grins at her.

She takes another bite, finishing the strip before she answers him, her voice low and soft, eyes locked on his. “You’re also irritating. And demanding. And, and...pushy. Aaand...well, half-naked. Which is really becoming an issue for me.”

“Want I should take the jeans off then?” He smirks. “And really, love, demanding and pushy are nearly the same thing.”

Buffy takes a few more bites of her eggs, avoiding eye contact with Spike and not answering him. She finally stands up, dabbing her mouth with her napkin. “You know what else you are, Spikey?”

“Incredibly handsome? Good with my hands?” The smirk is stuck on his face.

Buffy moves closer, puts her hands on both his shoulders, pushing him back from the chair slightly. She slides one leg up and across his lap and sits down, straddling his hips. The t-shirt rides up, revealing her white cotton panties to Spike’s wandering eyes. Pinned between his bare chest and the back of the chair, she moves both hands from his shoulders to his jaw. Buffy leans in, lips brushing his lightly, once. “You’re mine.”

Spike grabs her to him and proceeds to kiss her fiercely, possessively. His tongue pushes into her mouth, seeking hers to tangle with. Buffy wraps her legs tightly around his waist. Spike’s left hand tightens on her butt, squeezing. She squeaks in surprise, which only causes their kiss to deepen. Spike’s other hand moves up under the shirt, fingertips gliding up her side. Suddenly, he stands up, untangling from the chair and kicking it to the side. He drops Buffy on the table with a thump and she separates from the kiss with a gasp. “Right here?”

“Right bloody here, Slayer.” He pushes down on top of her, dragging her up the table. Buffy just misses putting her hand in her partially eaten eggs when she feels him rub his jean-clad erection against her thin cotton underwear. She arches into him with a little moan as he kisses down her neck .

“Buffy, have you seen my - oh for crying out - I have to eat on that table! My eyes!” Dawn’s voice pierces the fog around the two blonds on the table, whose heads both turn to meet the shocked gaze of her sister. Since walking in on the two of them in compromising positions all over the apartment has become very common, Dawn has started to think only the kitchen and her own room are safe. So much for the kitchen.

“You know, last time, it was the bathroom counter. Which again, I have to use, people. My toothbrush is right there! Show some restraint.” Dawn storms over, snatching up Buffy’s plate of eggs and the fork next to them. Flinging her long hair over her shoulder, she leaves again, the kitchen door swinging wildly in her wake.

“She took my eggs.”

“Yes, she did.”

“So, I guess breakfast is over.”

“Looks that way.”

“I think I’m lying on a spoon.” Buffy wriggles slightly, making Spike bite his lip.

“Should we move this to the bedroom?”

Buffy sighs, glances from the door and back to Spike, whose blue eyes are twinkling with mischief. “Yeah. Not sure Dawn should see her sister in such a position. Um, again. At least, not again today. I’ve got a surprise for you in there, anyway.”

Spike stands up, pulling Buffy to a seated position on the table. “Sounds good, love. Does it involve any kind of leather?”

“No. Well, I guess it could. Have to catch me to find out.” Buffy rolls off the table in a flash and is through the kitchen door before Spike can move.

“Damn, she’s quick.” Spike bolts after her, tackling her against her door in the hallway.

“I saw that, people! I’m RIGHT HERE.” Dawn’s voice carries from the living room.

Buffy twists the doorknob with her hand and they tumble into her room, almost hitting the floor. Spike kicks the door shut behind him. Buffy pulls away and heads toward the drawn curtains. With a wink over her shoulder, she flings them wide open, revealing the glass doors which lead to her small balcony.

Spike jumps back, though the light doesn’t quite reach him. “Christ, love. You could warn a vampire.”

Buffy grins, leaning back against the doors. Winking at Spike, she grabs the edge of his black t-shirt and slowly pulls it over her head. It catches her blond hair, which then falls in soft curls around her shoulders when she gets the shirt off. Smiling wickedly, she slings the shirt to the floor and stretches her arms up in the air. Her naked breasts lift temptingly and Spike groans. Morning light pours in, making her golden skin glow.

Done stretching, she crooks her index finger at Spike. “Come here.”

“Um, sorry, love. Tempting as it is, I’m still slightly flammable. Why don’t you come here?”

Buffy shakes her head. “Do you trust me, Spike?”

“Yeah, ‘course. What’s that got to do with it?”

“If you do, just come here. It’s a surprise.” Buffy runs her hands over her bare breasts slowly, letting her fingers meet as they slide down her torso. She hooks the tips of her fingers in her panties, pushing slightly.

“If the surprise is that I turn into a roman candle, I’m going to cease trusting you as soon as I put out the flames, pet.”

Buffy stomps her bare foot, her face sliding from seductive to petulant. “Spike! DO IT!”

He puts his hands up in surrender and takes a few steps closer to the huge rectangle of sunlight on the floor. At the edge of it, he looks at Buffy, who nods. Closing his eyes and flinching, he takes another step and waits for the whoosh sound of fire erupting from his skin.

And waits.

Nothing.

Spike opens one eye and looks at his hand. The hand that is currently lit by the morning sun and not on fire. He looks up at Buffy, who claps her hands with glee.

“It worked!”

“What worked? And wait, you didn’t know it would work? And what worked?” Spike takes another step and still no fire.

“Well, I guess I didn’t absolutely positively know, but I was sure. Willow is almost never wrong. She did go all evil once, but that was like a year and a half ago. And still, she was smart then. Just evil.”

Spike holds up his hand to stop her talking. “Buffy. Love. Why am I not on fire?”

“She fixed the glass.” Buffy taps her knuckles against the panes. “Did that necco-, necro-something to it.” Spike frowns. “Like at Wolfram & Hart.” His face lights up with understanding.

“How did she - ?”

“Don’t know the details. But I told her about it after you mentioned it one night and she went right to work figuring out how. Pretty nifty, huh? She’ll be back next week to do the rest of the apartment.” Buffy pauses, ducking her head and looking at Spike through her lashes. “I told her to start here.”

“You did, did you? Any particular reason? Not complaining, mind you. I love the view.” Spike moves within a foot of Buffy, feeling the unusual sensation of sunlight on his bare skin.

“Wanted to see you.” She smiles, suddenly shy. “Like this.” Buffy lifts her hand, lets it coast across his face lightly. The sun makes the blue in his eyes paler and the cut of his cheekbones sharper. Her hand drags down his muscular chest, each line drawn in relief. She studies him with wonder in her eyes. The warmth of his skin makes her pause. “You’re warm.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah.” Her voice is soft, breath warm on his face. Buffy pulls him to her, lips pressing against his softly, then more firmly. She pushes her body against him and Spike meets her, pushing her back against the glass. Buffy’s fingers dive down to his jeans, fumbling with the button as their kiss grows in intensity. Finally, she manages to undo them and pushes. Spike takes over, tugging his jeans down and off as he breaks away and drags kisses down her torso. He kneels down in front of her, pressing his mouth to the skin just above her panties. Sitting back to look up at her, Spike’s face is lit with adoration. Light courses over both of them in the warm gold of Rome dawning. Buffy’s breath is taken away by the way his body is washed in it.

“You’re glowing, pet. It’s a good look on you.” He winks at her as his fingers slowly work her panties down her legs. Buffy moans as his mouth drops lower, planting fluttering kisses on her lower abdomen, then her inner thigh. When he reaches his goal, she gasps and dives her fingers into his hair, now lit platinum in the sun.

* * *

A knock on the door distracts Dawn from her attempts to follow the morning news. Standing up, she peeks through the peephole and smiles.

Unlocking and flinging the door open, she grins at the young man on the doorstep, who stands a good five inches shorter than her.

“Oz, come in!” When they met again a few months ago, Dawn’s memories of Oz letting her watch his band practice when she was in middle school still made her giddy. The fact that it never happened didn’t hurt their bonding. As far as they were both concerned, he was the other, less talkative, big brother she never had. And one she missed when he and Willow broke up.

He even lets her hug him. Oz smiles and steps in the apartment.

“Hey, Dawn. What’s up?”

“Nothing much. How’s life? It’s been weeks since I’ve seen you. Where’ve you been?”

“It’s good. I’ve been around. Went to Florence for a bit. And you? Been practicing?”

“Si, signore.”

“Good, good. Nice accent.” Oz glances around. “So, where are the other two?”

“Going at it like bunnies back there. Believe me, it’s safer out here.” A loud thump, followed by what sounds like Spike growling reaches the living room. Buffy’s voice squeals in response.

“Sounds like.”

“Yep.” Dawn turns up the TV.

“So, things are good with those two?”

“If by good you mean they are always making kissy faces at each other and nearly having sex on every available flat surface in the apartment, including the kitchen table not ten minutes ago, then yeah, they’re good.”

“So, that’s good then.”

“Oh geez. I’m so rude. Are you hungry? We’ve got eggs and - ”

Oz glances at the kitchen and back at Dawn as Buffy cries out again.

“Not so much.”

“Right.”