It had taken him only a few moments to set up his surprises; he'd been so hyper. He'd picked the jasmine and roses in the garden first, sprinkling them all over the room and the stairs to show them the way. Thankfully, Angel had left the electric off, so most of the mansion was shrouded in darkness, save the candles he'd placed strategically. The sheets had been a lark, really, stolen from Angel's old apartment on the way here. He'd added the essentials from his own crypt of course, and then stripped, lying on the sheets and soaking in the feeling of peace that was washing over him.
One eyebrow rose lazily when he heard the door being opened downstairs. He sucked in a deep breath, holding it until the voices below started coming closer. He could sense his mate and his Sire, could feel their unease and excitement radiating from them. Spike reached over and grabbed his cigarettes, lighting one quickly, his mind focused on sending positive energy to the two beings climbing the stairs. He smiled softly as he heard Buffy comment on the smell of the jasmine, and Angel's response about Spike's soft side.
When the door creaked open, all he could see was two sets of yellow eyes scanning the room, finally lighting on the cherry of his cigarette. He heard Buffy gasp softly, and he slid his demon face down in order to see her face more clearly in the dim light. His eyes traveled to his Sire, whose face was unreadable, even to someone who'd known him for a century.
"Spike, this is… you've…," she faltered, her eyes still taking in the scene he'd created.
Angel cleared his throat, swallowed hard, and spoke. "Spike, what is all this?"
He rolled onto his side, pinching his cigarette out with his fingertips and tossing it away. The sheet fell down to his hips, revealing his lack of clothes, and Buffy's throat tightened. A flood of warmth ran through her body as she stared at her mate, wanting to heed his mental call. He looked up at Angel and said softly, "The cheerleader and the Witches found a spell. On the gypsy's old computer. You're little issue earlier? It made your soul permanent. As in, not losable, or so they say."
Angel stumbled forward, his face reflecting the shock he was feeling. Spike motioned for him to sit on the bed and he did so, staring numbly at the window. "H-How? Do we know for sure? And why are we here when…?"
Spike chuckled. "Eloquent as always, Peaches. The cheerleader took me aside and told me she knew what you wanted, what you needed. She gave us her blessing to do what we need to."
Buffy let out a squeak, her eyes going round as saucers, and she moved to the bed, sliding in next to Spike and wrapping her arms around him. She buried her face in his back, the images from his mind weaseling their way into hers. She let out a light moan, and Angel raised his head.
"Cordy? She gave us permission to…"
"Fuck. And yes, she did. She just wants you to come back to her. At some point. When you can walk again," he said, a slight grin crossing his face.
Angel looked at Buffy, her yellow eyes instinctively rising to meet his, and then back at his Childe, whom he'd missed more than he'd ever let anyone know. He felt the conflict in his Soul about doing this to Cordy, but he knew deep down, he'd be miserable if he didn't take this chance. His hands moved to his shirt of their own accord, and the buttons seemed to fly from their holes.
Buffy whispered, "She just wants him to come home. That's all?" Her eyes were trained on Angel's hands as they undid his shirt, and Spike chuckled again.
"She wants him to be cut in on the claim, luv. Something about taking my broody Sire to Disneyland."
Buffy laughed, the sound echoing off the walls in the quiet mansion. She felt a wave of shyness overcome her as she realized she was about to be with two creatures who'd been pleasuring each other since before her grandmother was even born. The feeling of inadequacy that Spike had rid her of came creeping back, and it made her curl up inside.
Spike noticed immediately, and rolled over, taking her into his arms. "Buffy, look at me. You are perfect. You are not bad in bed. I don't care what the poof's alter ego told you; you know better. Would I lie to you about this?"
When she refused to answer, he let out a primitive growl. She answered in kind, and he growled again. A rumbling growl startled them both, and Buffy's face slid back to human as she looked at Angel, who was naked and glaring at them both.
"Buffy," he said gently. "You know I'd never really think… Spike is right. You're not bad in bed. You can't be, because Spike walks around like he's Hugh Hefner. I've seen your thoughts, Buffy, and none of them can be classified as coming from someone who's too inexperienced for us."
"Thank you," she whispered, ducking her head.
Spike growled and pulled her chin up, forcing her to look at him. "I don't want passive, scared Buffy here today. I want my Buffy, my mate, in this bed with us. Got it?" He leaned down and ran his tongue over the marks on her neck, sucking on them.
Buffy growled at him, grabbing him by his ears and pulling his face to hers roughly, her tongue plunging into his mouth without warning. Her hands pulled him closer, and her nails ran down his chest, drawing blood. His eager snarls inflamed her, and she leaned down, licking at the droplets running down his chest. Angel's growl caused her to lift her head, staring at him through the demon's eyes.
Spike shook his head, holding Buffy back for a moment. "A precaution, luv. Don't always trust spells these days," he said, holding up a pair of ancient looking shackles that had been dangling behind the bed.
Angel simply smirked at him. "Boy, you know they aren't shackles enough in the world to hold me back if I intend to get out."
"These will. An old gypsy made them for me when Dru and I were traveling around Prague. Right before the mob got to Dru, in fact. And I've carried them ever since, using them mostly to contain Dru when her madness drove her to try and hurt herself or me. I dug them out last spring to use on B…to use again. They're magickally enhanced; no one can break through them, not even you, Peaches."
Buffy grinned. "Trust me, he's right. They felt like kryptonite when I was in them."
Angel gave Spike a dirty look and he shrugged. "Got to amuse myself somehow, don't I?"
"Spike, do you really think this will work?" he asked desperately.
"Yes, Sire," he said, his eyes shining with an emotion Angel hadn't seen for decades. He held up the shackles, and Angel slipped his hands into them, pulling the chains taut to test their reach. Turning to Buffy, Spike took her hands in his. "I have the cell phone in my pants. If there's a problem, Cordy said Willow had all the ingredients ready to give him his soul back. Okay?"
She nodded gravely, her hand trailing up Angel's thigh absently. The muffled groan he released made her smirk, and Spike grinned at her. Feeding off his encouragement, Buffy smoothed her palm over his thigh again, brushing her fingers over the springy hair near the top.
Spike moved behind her, nibbling on her neck as she kneeled before Angel, reacquainting her hands with the feel of his body. She urged Angel to turn on his side, and he complied willingly, pressing his large frame to her slight one. Spike followed suit, aligning his body with Buffy's and groaning as his cock met Angel's between her thighs. Buffy half moaned, half whimpered at the sensation, arching her hips first into Angel and then back into Spike.
Angel looked at his Childe pleadingly, and Spike quickly complied, his hands covering Buffy's as she explored Angel's skin. When their combined hands reached his cock, he gnashed his teeth, fighting the demon off, until he opened his eyes and saw Buffy and Spike, both in game face, staring back at him. He released his demon eagerly, pushing his hips into their hands roughly, twisting and pulling on the manacles that held him.
Buffy smiled kittenishly and looked at Spike, who nodded. Their hands lifted Angel's cock, positioning it so he could slide into her easily, and he moaned at the heat emanating from her core. She sank onto his erection slowly, savoring every bit of him as he moved inside her. A strangled cry of pleasure escaped her lips, and she squirmed impatiently.
Spike chuckled at the look on Angel's face. He doesn't know my girl very well. It's bloody hard to get her to go slow, he thought. He dipped into Buffy's mind cautiously, listening to her incoherent babble fondly. He didn't feel threatened in the slightest by Buffy's intimacy with his Sire. He scooted back slightly, allowing Buffy to roll herself and Angel so she could sit astride him. He's in for it now, Spike thought. The git's not had sex in four years, and Buffy'll ride him like a bronco. Can't wait to see his reaction to that.
Angel looked up at the girl he'd once know as she sat on his lap, her inner walls squeezing his cock like a vise. He couldn't bring himself to speak; he was so amazed. Was she always this passionate and I missed it? Or was Spike the one to unleash this side of her personality? he thought. Buffy smirked down at him, her expression a mirror of the one Spike was always making, and began to rock upon him. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he growled loudly, his body feeling things he'd hadn't dared to dream of for the last four years.
Buffy opened her eyes as she rode Angel, searching out her mate. "Get over here, Spike," she ground out, panting for breath. Her bronze body was starting to sweat, leaving a glistening sheen illuminated by the candles. "Now."
"Anything for you, luv," he said, kneeling beside Angel.
"Straddle him. Let him suck you off. And look at me. I want to see your eyes," she commanded, still pounding her pelvis onto Angel's.
Spike obeyed quickly, moving into position as she'd asked. When Angel's lips closed around his cock, he roared. It had been so very long since he'd had a seeing to by a man. In fact, it had been since Angel had been ensouled. He'd never let another man touch him the way his Sire had. Having his Sire's mouth around him was something he'd never expected to feel again, and he wasn't sure he could hold it for very long. He looked up at Buffy, asking her his question with his eyes.
She leaned down and kissed him deeply, twining her tongue with his, never losing the rhythm in her hips. "Soon, baby. Soon."
Spike groaned, the pull of her mouth and Angel's making his body move back and forth, straining for more of both. "Buffy," he warned.
She slammed her hips down onto Angel's, grinding her hips and working her inner muscles around his cock. Angel let out a strangled cry, and Spike followed, the vibration from Angel's cry causing his composure to slip completely. Angel spurted wildly inside Buffy and she kissed Spike hard as his seed flowed into Angel's mouth.
When they cries died down, Spike lifted himself off of his Sire, curling up near him. Buffy climbed off Angel's lap, settling between them happily. She looked from one vampire to the next, all three of them still in game face. "Sleep for a few?" she asked, a yawn escaping as she spoke.
Spike snorted and Angel grinned. "Tired already?" they asked in unison.
She rolled her eyes. "Still getting used to the vampire hours, here. Can't you big, bad men humor little old me just a little?" she pouted adorably, knowing neither of them could resist it.
Spike sighed. "Your wish is my command, baby."
Angel chuckled. "And you call me a poof."
"Eat me…oh yeah, too late," Spike retorted.
Buffy frowned. "Less talk, more sleep," she growled. She pulled the vampire on either side of her as close as possible and started to drift off.
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