The Rules of Mistletoe

For: amoonchilde:
Rating: R
Request: Buffy and Spike have too much eggnog and agree to kiss each other under the mistletoe, whereever the mistletoe may be...like on Spike's holiday boxer shorts. Hee! Maybe Buffy has some surprises of her own. *wink*

Response: Set around Christmas, Season 5. Not long after Into the Woods, when Riley leaves. Spike comes to pick Buffy up for patrol...and mistletoe becomes an issue.




“Alright, alright. Enough with the knocking. Geez.” Buffy flings the front door open, nearly spilling her drink. “What are you doing here?”

“Good evening to you too, milady.” Spike gives her a mock bow.

Buffy leans against the edge of the door and giggles. Spike stands up straight, eyes wide. Buffy never laughs when he’s around. Unless she’s making fun of him. He squints at her slightly.

“I said, what are you doing here, Spike?” Her voice lacks the sharp edge it usually has, making Spike more uncomfortable.

“Uh, patrol? Y’know, fulfil your namesake, Slayer?”

“Fulfil my huh? What did you say?”

Spike makes a stabbing motion. “Um, slay vampires? That thing you do? With me?”

Buffy snorts. “’m not gonna slay YOU, Spike. You’re like a little vamp puppy or something. Harmless.”

Spike stands up straight, frowning. “I am NOT harm - ...” He stops mid-word, looking more closely at the Slayer, looking from her flushed cheeks to her dilated eyes to her nearly empty glass of something distinctly alcoholic. “You’re drunk!”

“Pfffft. Am not.” She waves her hand at him dismissively.

“Are too.”

“Not.” She leans her head against the front door and laughs some more. “Okay.” Buffy holds her index finger and thumb about an inch apart. “Little bit.” She grins at Spike, which absolutely confirms she has been drinking.

“Can I come in, pet?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure. Come on in!” Buffy swings her free arm widely, gesturing Spike into the house.

Spike looks around as he walks in, expecting to see some of the Scoobies. He doesn’t hear or see anyone else. “You here by yourself then, Slayer?” He frowns a little. Something’s not quite right.

“Yep. Completely alone. That’s me.” Buffy wanders off into the living room and Spike grits his teeth as he realizes what this is. She’s upset about the soldier boy leaving.

“Well, not anymore, love. I’m here now.”

Buffy snorts again in a most unladylike way before flopping down on the couch. She leaves the drink on the table in front of her.

Spike stays in the entrance to the living room, leaning against the doorframe. He looks at the pouting Slayer in front of him. “Better off without him, pet.”

She makes a small , choked sound, nearly a laugh. “You think so?” Buffy keeps her eyes locked on a faraway spot across the room.

“Know so. Just think, Slayer. No more meat and potatoes dinners. No more hearing ‘gee whiz’ or ‘golly’ when he stubs his toe. No more bleedin’ stories about Iowa or Idaho or whatever bloody place he grew up.” He pauses. “And you might actually get a tan without him blocking the sun with his inappropriately wide shoulders.”

Buffy’s shoulders start to shake a little and Spike thinks he has maybe gone too far. She’s a bit unstable. Then, she throws her head back on the couch and he breathes a sigh of relief. Laughter. She is laughing. Buffy turns her head to look at him, still giggling. He meets her eyes and the giggles slowly die. Spike gulps. The Slayer hasn’t looked at him quite that way in a long time. Not since that spell last year. A spell he now wishes could have lasted a bit longer.

“Yeah. That’s true. I’m looking a bit pale. Like you.”

“Pale is in, love.”

“And bursting into flame is SO last year, right?”

Spike chuckles, still unnerved by the look in her eyes as she teases him.

“Mistletoe.”

Spike frowns. Of all the things he thought she was going to say next, ‘mistletoe’ was not one of them. “Huh?”

“You are standing under...” Buffy stands up, takes a few slow steps closer to him. “...the mistletoe.”

Spike glances up and sees that she is right. A bunch of mistletoe is hanging above him in the opening to the living room. When he looks back, Buffy is standing directly in front of him. Looking at him.

“There are rules about mistletoe, Spike.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Enlighten me, pet.” Spike stalls, strangely nervous with this newly playful and friendly Slayer.

She puts one hand up, hesitates in mid-air as she locks eyes again. Her cheeks are flushed pink and he sees her hand shake just a bit. Buffy bites her bottom lip as she moves the hand forward, resting it palm flat on Spike’s chest. In the few seconds it takes him to comprehend that she is touching him, she stands on her tiptoes and brushes her lips against his. The soft warmth stuns Spike, making his whole body react. Buffy stays on her tiptoes, hand pressing harder against him.

“Have to kiss.”

Spike swallows, trying to stay calm with Buffy’s face mere inches from his. “Just the one time or...?”

She smiles, leaning into him again. When he relaxes, she pushes hard with her hand, rotating him quickly and hard against the wall. Spike gasps. “Yep. Mistletoe rules says one kiss is required.”

“Oh.” Spike sags a little.

“But I have a rule of my own.”

“Oh?” Buffy pushes closer, pinning Spike between the wall and her body.

“People who make me laugh get another one.” And she pushes her lips against his, harder this time. Spike’s hands slide up to grasp her upper arms. She stops to speak again.

“And annoying blond vampires who point out that my regular all-American farmboy is actually cheating on me with vamp whores?”

“Yeah?” Spike, feeling braver and less likely to be staked, runs his hands down to her hips, pulling her a little tighter to him. Buffy grabs the back of his head and pulls him down for a hard kiss, mouth moving on his. Her tongue gains entrance, tangling with his furiously. Their bodies move against each other as the kiss deepens and lengthens. Finally, the kiss ends with a gasp. Foreheads pressed together, they stand there, eyes closed, bodies on fire.

“They get my thanks.” She smiles a little bit. Quickly, it widens into a wicked grin. “And at least one more kiss.”

Spike smiles back as she delivers on her promise. And then some.