The Birthday Cake

by Saber ShadowKitten




Spike couldn't believe he was doing this. Well, he could, considering he was squatting in this tiny little area. But he didn't know why he was doing it. Okay, okay, so it was his idea. That didn't mean he wanted to be the one to do it!

"Bloody Slayer and her bloody friends," Spike muttered to himself. "How I let them twist me around like-"

"...Happy Birthday, Buffy!" he heard Willow exclaim. He brought his hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"It's...a big cake." That was Buffy. His reason for being stuffed inside the bleedin- "A really big cake. With frosting and candles and really, really big."

"Oh for bloody's sake, we heard you the first time," Spike grumbled quietly. "Of course it's a big cake, I'm in the soddin thing. Did you think they could stuff me in a donut hole or something?"

"Well, yeah, it's big." Willow again. "Cause we wanted to make up for all your other birthday cakes...which...we didn't have, because your birthdays kind of..."

"Sucked the big wet titty?"

"Buffy!"

"Well, well, well, Slayer's got a mouth on her." Spike grinned. "I wonder what else she says when I'm not around."

"Not sucking the big wet titty?" Buffy's voice rang loud and clear through the partially-false cake. "How about blowing the Spike-"

"Eh?" Spike's ears perked up.

"-Sized-"

"Buffy!"

"Cor, don't cut her off, Witch," Spike growled.

"-Ego."

"Damn."

"We're not sucking or-or-or blowing anything...here...now...," Willow stammered. "Oh! Except for the candles. You can blow out the candles. And make your wish- no wait!"

"Wait? But I thought you wanted me to blow out-"

"You have to make your wish first," Willow said. "And-and I can't be here for that. Because you're suppose to say it out loud. Yeah. So, I'm just gonna go and take this stake here and, uh, leave."

Spike heard the dorm room door close and he slumped in relief. Now all he had to do was wait...

"Willow, you far surpass strangeness at times," he heard Buffy mutter to herself. "But you are sweet. Okay, what to wish for, what to wish for? A normal life? A new pair of boots? Angel to come crawling back to me on his hands and knees and me telling him to go sit on it and rotate, and god do I have to stop watching Happy Days reruns."

Spike rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at his mouth. He really liked the last possible one.

"I don't even know why I'm doing this. It's not like my wishes come true anyway," Buffy said. "After all, it is my birthday. The uber-yuckiest day of the year." Spike heard her sigh. "You know what, screw it. I not going to make a wish. That way I won't be disappointed."

"Not-" Spike started to stand up without thinking, about to berate her, forgetting that he was suppose to be hiding, and he hit his head on the top of the false-cake. It made a lovely, hollow thump. The wood, not his head.

Squatting back and rubbing his head, he listened to see if the Slayer had noticed. It was dead silent outside of the big cake. She noticed.

"Oh bloody hell," he mumbled and instant before the top came off the cake. He blinked at the sudden light and saw Buffy glaring down at him from the opening. "Er, hello, Slayer."

"What are you doing in my cake?" Buffy asked, her face stony.

Spike leered at her. "I'm your stripper."

A sculpted brow rose over one eye.

"I'm your paint stripper?"

"That's better," Buffy said. "Out of the cake, Spike."

"You know," Spike said, rising to his feet within the wheeled-cake. "Willow is going to be really mad you found me."

"And that's because...?"

"Nope, can't tell you that," Spike said. He put his hands on either side of the lip of the opening, frosting centimeters from his fingertips.

"And why not?" Buffy asked, her arms folded in front of her, as she stood beside the cake.

"Because I'm not going to," Spike replied. The cake moved as he hoisted himself up.

"Oh, I think you will," she said in her he-was-going-to-be-in-extreme-pain voice.

But he always liked playing the odds. "Oh, I think I won't," Spike sang. He swung his feet up over the edge of the cake. It moved more.

Buffy took a step closer to him. "Tell me or I find out how well you fit inside of a donut hole."

Spike looked at her in surprise, precariously perched on the cake where the top rested when it fully was assembled. "You know, I was just thinking the same...exact...thing. Um, ut-oh."

"Ut-oh?" Buffy asked.

And then they were both on the floor, Spike on top of Buffy, the fallen cake on top of him.

Spike raised his head and looked down at the frosting-spattered Slayer. "You okay, Slayer?"

"Other than the fact that I'm lying on the floor under a vampire with cake frosting in my hair and on my new dress, I'm just peachy," Buffy replied sarcastically. "Now, do you mind getting off?"

A lazy smile spread across Spike's lips. "No," he said. "I don't mind at all."

Buffy froze in her attempts to free her arms from under him, her eyes locking with his ice blue ones. She meant to tell him off for the cliched comment, she really did, but for some reason she couldn't find her voice. All she could do was look into his eyes, his face inches from his own.

"You have frosting on your face, luv," Spike said, his voice dropping to a husky level. "What say I clean that off for you?"

Spike waited for half-an-instant for her protest, and when she didn't, he lowered his head and slowly licked the small dab of frosting off her cheekbone. He raised his head again and met her eyes for a moment, before murmuring, "There's a little more up here," he kissed her forehead, "and here," her temple, "here," a small nip of her earlobe, "along here," he traced his tongue along her jawline towards her chin, then raised his head again.

Buffy felt as though she'd run a marathon as she met the darkened blue orbs for the third time. She found her speaking voice, but what came out of her mouth wasn't what she meant to say. "Is there any more?" And she definitely did not mean to sound so breathy.

"Right here," Spike whispered, then he captured her mouth with his own.

Buffy inhaled sharply at the contact of his cool lips against hers. He brushed them lightly with his own, barely touching her, then gently increasing the pressure. She barely registered the fact that his lips were so soft. And then his tongue ran along her lower lip, and all thoughts disintegrated into nothing but feelings.

Her arms, which she had been trying to free, stilled and she used her hands to grab some of the material of his jeans on near his hips. She could feel something quite hard pressing into her abdomen, and she rolled her hips forward with a feminine, unconscious movement. She felt rather than heard the low groan deep within Spike's chest, which was pressed against hers.

Spike swept his tongue inside her mouth, entangling with hers and sending bolts of want directly to his groin. He groaned when he felt her rub up against he already aching shaft, and he wanted her to do that action without clothing between them. His tongue brushed the roof of her mouth behind her teeth and she whimpered, fueling his arousal.

He didn't want to pull away from her, however if he didn't, they'd be making love amidst the wooden splinters from the false cake falling over. With what little resemblance to coherent thought he had left, he broke away from her and raised his head once more. Her eyes were stormy, grey and blue swirling together, when she opened them to meet his own desire-laden gaze.

"I'm going to stand up, help you up, then take you over to that bed and stay there until we're both too sated to move unless you tell me to get lost right now," Spike whispered to her.

"I like your plan," Buffy whispered back.

Spike found Buffy's mouth again and dragged her into a fierce, passionate kiss. They were both panting when he broke away and stood. Clothing came off ungracefully as they worked their way from the toppled, broken cake to the bed, their mouths and hands caressing every bit of skin that became exposed.

The blond vampire lavished Buffy's breasts with attention, sucking the pebbled peaks into his mouth, rolling the tight nipples with his tongue, tugging on them with his teeth. The Slayer arched into him, her hands pushing through his hair to hold him to her. Her hips wiggled under him as the bolts of electricity danced down her body from her breasts to her womanhood.

She could feel his hard shaft pressed against her inner thigh as he moved from one breast to the other. Her imagination went into overdrive, her vaginal muscles clenching at the thought of him filling her with his steely length. She mewled in the back of her throat, a soft whimpering sound of want and need.

Spike dragged his mouth away from her rosy nipple to scrape his blunt teeth down her taut abdomen. The closer he got to her sex, the stronger her scent of arousal became, which served to inflame him more. His cock brushed along the comforter on her bed as he moved between her tanned thighs, reminding him that he was quite naked and soon he would be buried deep within her.

He glanced up to see her flushed face, her eyes heavy-lidded and full of anticipation. Her hair was tousled, and her breasts rose and fell at a quick pace with each breath she took. He'd never seen anything sexier.

Buffy let her head fall back to the pillow when his fingers gently brushed her dark nest of curls. She could feel his eyes burning into her most private part and it made her feel wanton and naughty and a little embarrassed. She was about to close her legs when his tongue ran up her slit in one long, slow lick, making her moan.

He bathed her sex with his tongue, licking up each light pink fold, encircling her extended nubbin, dipping into her hot entry. Then he sucked the darker pearl into his mouth and she gasped loudly, her body jumping at the sensations that ran through her body. A slow burning feeling started beneath his mouth as he teased her clit, which continued to grow until she burst into the flames of orgasm.

Spike held her hips as she bucked against his face, her sounds of her climax going right to his groin. Her thighs closed around his head, her fingernails digging into his scalp, as he continued to torture her by sucking on her now-oversensitive nub. Finally giving into the demands his aching cock was making, he dipped his tongue into her wet core, the tangy taste of her like ambrosia.

Buffy's thighs fell open as she came down from her orgasm. Spike moved up her body, his mouth brushing soft kisses on the feminine swell of her abdomen, over her heart, at the hollow of her throat, then on her lips. His hand dipped between their bodies to position himself at her slick entry, their mouths never parting.

Then he broke away and inhaled sharply as he thrust inside of her. His eyes were wide and startled when they met her heavy, desire-laden ones. He didn't move for several moments, unable to because of the heat engulfing his member. It burned hotter than the sun, but the pain her heat caused was only the pain of ecstasy.

She was the first to move, sliding her hips back down into the bed and then arching them forward, her ankles hooked over his legs. His eyes fell shut with a low moan, and he pulled his own hips back, his hard length sliding out of her slowly before he thrust back in. A second moan was torn from deep within him, and he opened his eyes into slits just long enough to see the pleasure-filled expression on her face before he captured her mouth again.

Buffy felt completely filled, completely desired, completed. Her tongue mated with his as their bodies did the same, their fingers linking on both hands. He slid her arms high above her head, his hard, whipcord body pressed flush against hers. His strokes were long and slow, stretching out the sensations that were centered in her core.

Hours or minutes, neither knew how long they moved together in the rhythm inborn in all creatures great and small. Their bodies sang with rapture, each of them taking every precious second and storing it within their memories. And when they eventually sailed over the precipice, it was with gasps of amazement at the sensations that coursed through their bodies.

Afterwards, Spike rained kisses all over her face until Buffy giggled softly at his actions. Their eyes met and held once again, and their gentle smiles echoed one another's.

"So," Buffy said quietly. "What were you doing in the cake?"

"Uh-uh, Slayer," Spike said, his eyes crinkling in the corners with amusement. "I'm not telling."

"Please?" she said, batting her lashes at him. "With Buffy on top?"

Spike abruptly rolled over, taking her with him, until she was settled on top of him. "There, you're on top. But I'm still not going to tell you."

She swatted him lightly on the shoulder. "You're no fun."

He chuckled and held her, her breath warm against the side of his neck. After several minutes of sated silence, he said, "You never did make your wish, pet."

"But at least I blew out the candles, or else the dorm probably would have burned down by now," Buffy said.

"True," he said. "So, what's your wish?"

"Um." Buffy thought for a minute. "Okay, if birthday wishes did come true, aside from having great hot monkey sex with you, I'd wish that I could have a nice, quiet, disaster-free dinner with my friends. Maybe afterwards we can all play a game or watch a movie together or something. You know, normal stuff."

Spike kissed the top of her head. "Sounds like a nice wish, Slayer."

"Yeah," Buffy sighed. "It does, doesn't it."

The phone rang and both bottle-blonds groaned. "Don't answer it," Spike pleaded.

"Got to," Buffy replied, getting off of Spike to reach the phone. "I'm expecting a call from both Mom and Dad."

As she picked up the receiver and said hello, Spike rolled out of bed to put his clothes on. When she frowned at him while talking to her father, he gave her a small smile. "I'll be back, luv," he whispered. "I'm just going to get something to clean up the mess on the floor."

Buffy nodded and pulled the comforter up in front of her so he could leave. Spike brushed a strand of hair away from her face, then left the dorm room, pulling the door firmly shut behind him.

He jumped in surprise when Willow popped up out of nowhere in front of him. "Cor, Witch, you about gave me a bloody coronary."

"If that happened, would you turn to dust?" Willow pondered. She shook her head. "Never mind. What's her wish? And why did it take so long to find out? And why do you smell like...like..." She blushed and smacked him on the arm. "You has sex with Buffy!"

"Not so loud, Willow," Spike said, his eyes darting around the crowded hallway. "I think she'd want to keep that private."

"But you weren't suppose to have sex with Buffy," Willow hissed at him. "You're a vampire!"

Spike clamped his hand over her mouth. "And thank you for letting everyone know that, too."

Willow pushed his hand away. "If you did anything to hurt her, I will make you wish I would stake you, understand?"

"Do you want to hear her wish or not?" Spike asked with exasperation.

"Go ahead, I'm listening," Willow said, folding her arms across her chest.

"She wants to have a dinner with all her chums. Specifically a disaster-free dinner. With a game or a video afterwards," Spike told her. "So go work your magick, ducks. I need to get some stuff to clean up the cake mess and get back to Buffy."

Spike walked around Willow and up the hallway. The redhead stared after him, then sighed. "Another vampire. Giles is going to flip."

*****

"...I don't know why, Slayer," Spike answered Buffy as they arrived at Giles' door. "He just said to come right away. Probably another demon bent on mucking up my sex-life."

They had been at Spike's place a few nights after they'd discovered they enjoyed fighting more in bed than out of it, heavily involved in post-coital snuggling, when Giles had called. Both of them grumbling at the never-ending work of a Slayer, they'd gotten redressed after quick, hands-off showers, and headed over to the former Watcher's flat.

Buffy knocked and a moment later the door opened. "Hey, Willow," the Slayer greeted. "World savage time again?"

Willow stepped back and allowed Spike and Buffy to enter. "Nope," the redhead answered. "Dinner time."

Buffy stopped and frowned at the people seated at the dining table, which was piled with food. "Okay, what's going on here?"

"Food, friends and fun," Xander replied. "Fully fear-free."

"Er, what I-I think Xander is saying is we are going to have a nice, quiet dinner," Giles said. He gestured to everyone. "The six of us. For once. A-And possibly charades."

"Charades?" Anya said. "Isn't that the mime thing? I don't like mimes. They are truly evil beings."

"We can do pictionary," Xander suggested.

"Everything you draw looks like a cow, Xander," Willow said, moving to the table.

"There's trivial pursuit," Giles said.

"Only if I get partnered with Willow," Xander said. "With her brains, I'd win."

"What about my brains?" Anya asked, glaring at Xander.

"If the game asked questions like 'what are the hundred and one ways to make a man cry'..."

Spike pulled Buffy's coat off of her and dropped a kiss on her bare shoulder. "I think your wish is about to come true, luv," he whispered in her ear.

And it did.

As did the great hot monkey sex on Spike's living room floor later that night.



End



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