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So If You're Lonely

by Sophia Jirafe

[Story Headers]

"You want to do this?" Buffy asked, stalking into the bedroom. "Let's do this."

Spike and Angel exchanged a glance, jaws dropping in tandem.

"Uhhh..." said Angel.

"We didn't -- I didn't mean -- " said Spike.

"Bullshit," said Buffy from the bedroom door. "Bollocks, even. You did not follow me to Rome to save me from Mr. Special Superhero Guy."

"Mr. Special Superhero Guy?" asked Angel.

"Whatever his name is." She looked between the two vampires. "Oh, come on, do you really think I'm that stupid? It was an act. He was trying to steal some kind of fancy mystical whatchit. Thing. So I dated him so I could stop him. I can do that kind of thing. I'm cute, right?"

Spike looked at Angel. Angel looked pointedly at the floor.

"Guys, if you can't chime in with the appropriate girly ego-reassurance here, I'm going to have to resort to asking if this dress makes me look fat."

Angel looked at Spike. Spike looked pointedly at Buffy's chest, spilling out of a tight black cocktail dress.

Buffy sighed, sending a puff of air into her layered, sideswept bangs.

"OK. All together now. Buffy, you are cute. Buffy, that dress does not make you look fat. Buffy, we apologize for not getting undressed quickly and joining you in the bedroom. Ready?"

"Buffy -- " Angel started to say.

"Hey, now, if there's going to be undressing, that's all right," Spike said. "Just, y'know, in turns. There are going to be turns, right?"

Buffy crossed her arms over her chest, effectively obscuring all views. Spike sighed in regret.

"There will not be turns. I mean, yes, there will, because otherwise it doesn't make any sense, but not the kind of turn-taking you mean, and -- hey! That was a distraction! You guys are distracting me! To avoid having sex with me!"

Angel and Spike exchanged a terrified glance.

Buffy left off leaning against the door frame and crossed the room. She hesitated for a moment between the two of them, then turned to Spike.

"Spike," she said patiently. "I am offering sex. You like sex. The end."

Spike opened his mouth briefly, then shut it with a helpless shrug of agreement.

She turned to Angel, grasping him by the lapels of his coat.

"Angel, I am offering you sex, and not the kind where you go all fangy and homicidal. I mean, you can't ever be perfectly happy as long as Spike's in your line of sight, right? Or, um, in the same zip code?"

Angel sighed.

"Buffy," he tried again, but she cut him off with a kiss, warm and lingering. Behind her Spike made an impatient sort of whimper.

"That was..." Angel said, as Buffy pulled away.

"Exciting? Sexy? Enough to get you through the bedroom door?"

"Pathetic," he said, looking over her shoulder. "Spike, make that noise again and I'll throw you out the window."

"Like to see you try," Spike muttered, reaching for Buffy's hips. He spun her round and kissed her hard and thoroughly, leaning her back until her head touched Angel's chest. He opened his eyes and met Angel's glowering ones with a challenging look.

"Less pathetic," said Buffy, a little breathless as she stood upright again. "I think you guys are getting the hang of this."


Fifteen sweaty minutes later, all three were naked on the king-sized bed in Buffy's room. She lay stretched across deep blue sheets, her skin rather less golden and more pale than in days gone by, as Angel and Spike slid hands and kisses across her body, studiously careful not to touch each other in the process. Buffy opened her eyes, looked at Angel's hand on one breast and Spike's hand on the other, and noticed the three-inch gap.

"You guys aren't touching each other," she said, sitting up on her elbows.

The hands on her breasts stilled, and each vampire looked in a different corner of the room.

Angel cleared his throat. "Uh, we don't. Touch."

"Well, not since -- " Spike said.

"That one -- "

"That one time. With the thing. And the -- yeah."

"No touching," Angel said firmly to Buffy, meeting her eyes. "It's a rule. Besides, why should we when there's someone so much more interesting to touch?" He dipped his head to her breast, and she closed her eyes, leaning her head back.

"Ohhh -- no," she said, jerking her head up again a moment later. "The rule here is lots of touching, and everyone touches. Or everyone leaves."

There was a pause.

"What kind of -- touching?" Spike asked.

"Anything I do, you do," she said. "So if I do this -- " she squeezed something that made him gasp " -- then I expect to see you do it too."

There was a longer pause.

"To -- him?" Spike managed at last. "With my hand?"

"Or whatever body part you prefer," she told him. "I'm partial to -- "

"Don't I get a say in this?" Angel broke in. "As the touchee here, I think I get a say in what body part touches -- um, which body part -- and if there's any touching at all."

"You both touch or you can both go. Your choice."

Spike and Angel began to speak at once.

"You know, springtime in Rome is absolutely terrible -- "

"I'd totally forgot, I've got to meet some wanker down at some club -- "

"And the weather in LA is -- well, you know, it's always, um, the same -- "

"And he's got this bloke he wants me to meet, who's got this bird who knows a chap -- "

"And so we really should catch our flight. I meant our private jet. The one that's standing by at the private airfield. With the private pilot who sleeps on board. He'll be wanting to leave any moment now. He's a touchy kind of guy."

Buffy sat up entirely, crossing her arms over her naked chest. Spike sighed with longing.

"I cannot believe you guys are going to walk out on a crazy Italian threesome just because it might involve a little guy on guy action," she huffed, glaring between the two of them. "I mean, come on, I know you've done kinky stuff before, back when you were all evil-like. And I know you guys have oodles of sexual tension, with all that pretend-hate and glaring."

"Hey!" said Spike.

"I happen to actually hate him," said Angel. "With good reason."

"Poncey reasons," muttered Spike.

"What did you say?" Angel demanded.

"Big sodding poofter reasons," Spike shot back.

"Hey, bringing in poofters? Not helping our argument," Angel said.

"Oh -- your mom," snarled Spike.

"Yours," snapped Angel.

"See?" said Buffy. "Sexual tension."

They glared at her.

"Okay, one kiss," she said, holding up her hands. "One. And no pecks. If you hate it, fine."

"We can get back to it, then?" Spike asked hopefully.

"No, you can take your private plane back to springtime in LA."

They looked at each other. Spike twisted his mouth up horribly. Angel frowned.

"Bastard."

"Jerk."

"Bloody arse."

"Christ, Spike, could you have come up with anything less appropriate to the moment?"

They each reached for the other's shoulders. Spike put his arms over Angel's, who quickly switched to put his hands on top.

"I'm taller."

"Like hell you are."

"He is," Buffy told Spike.

"Bloody hell."

They began to incline their heads towards each other, first both tipped left, then both tipped right.

"Will you make up your bleeding mind?"

"I thought you wanted to be the dom."

"Oh, shut your gob."

Buffy sighed, loudly. They both looked at her, identical pleas in their eyes as they stared at her naked body.

"Buffy, for god's sake, can't we just skip this? It's not like we're enjoying it."

"Yeah, right barrel of laughs this is, kissing some poncey bugger who's probably secretly enjoying himself."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are -- "

Spike was silenced by a crushing kiss from Angel, who tightened his grip on Spike's white shoulders as he moved in. Buffy heard Spike's sudden, sharp intake of breath and held her own, waiting.

After a moment or two Spike began to kiss back, moving his hands up to dig his fingers into Angel's hair. Things which had been looking down for a while began to look up again, and Buffy smiled.

When they pulled apart at last, Angel's hands were cupping Spike's jaw, and Spike was doing that unnecessary panting he always did when he was turned on.

"If you say 'I told you so,'" Angel said, still looking at Spike. "I will personally throw you out the window."

"Bloody hell," said Spike.

"Isn't it more fun this way?" Buffy asked, crawling towards them.


"There is no way in the seven sodding hells that I am letting him do that to me."

"C'mon," said Buffy, settling herself down on top of Spike. "After all that time I spent getting you ready."

"There was -- ah -- an ulterior motive to that?"

"There was a single motive," said Buffy, beginning to rock her hips. "And he's not complaining."

"I haven't closed my mouth yet," said Angel. "Then I'll start complaining."

"Spike," she said, purring just a little.

"Mm? Sorry, distracted by -- ah! -- by the moving. And the -- the -- oh hell, Buffy, yes -- "

"Stop that," said Buffy sternly, stilling her hips. "The moving is conditional. The condition is that you let Angel have some fun too."

"Can't we just -- take turns?"

"No," Buffy said, looking back at Angel with concern. "Unless you have a spare Thessalan Orb and a powerful Wicca handy, Angel can't enjoy this as much as you do."

Spike stopped trying to grab at Buffy's elusive hips and looked up at Angel, eyebrow cocked.

"That so?" he smirked. "Then by all means, plunge away."

Buffy reached back, perfectly in time to catch each of Angel's wrists as he lunged forward.

"Enjoy what you can," she whispered, tipping her head back. "This is for you."

Angel sighed, sliding his hands down Buffy's sides, over her hips, then up to cup her breasts. Spike's eyes widened, and he thrust up, ever so slightly.

"Well, and me," she amended. "And Spike too, I guess, though I really can't help whether he enjoys it or not. I am cute."

"Yeah," said Angel, uncapping the bottle of lube Buffy had tossed him.

"Very cute," Spike agreed.


"I can't breathe," said Spike.

"You don't need to breathe," said Angel.

"I can't move," said Buffy.

"Sorry," said Spike.

"Did you -- ?" asked Angel.

"Not yet," said Buffy.

"I already -- " said Spike.

"We know," said Angel.

"If I just do this -- " said Buffy.

"Let me," said Spike.

"Hey, it's my turn," said Angel.

"No, it's better if I do it," said Buffy.

"Ponce," said Spike.

"Jerk," said Angel.


They lay naked on the bed again, sticky for various reasons. Buffy rested her head in the crook of Angel's shoulder, her legs flung over Spike, who tickled her toes absently with his left hand. His right hand was twined, very casually, with Angel's left.

"So, that private pilot..." Buffy said lazily.

"He won't mind sleeping another night on the plane," Angel said.

"And springtime?"

"Oh, I guess it's nice enough in Rome," said Angel.

"Bloody amazing, I'd say."

"That too."

"You guys have it pretty nice in LA now, huh?" Buffy asked, after a pause.

"Not doing so bad yourself, with your fancy flat and your cocktail frocks," said Spike, tracing her pedicured toenails. "Not to mention your fancy boyfriends."

"It's nice," Angel said, hesitantly. "But it comes at a price."

Spike and Buffy looked each other, then burst out snickering.

"Does it come with rice?" asked Spike.

"What?" said Angel.

"Does it come twice?" asked Buffy.

"You did," said Spike.

"What the hell are you guys talking about?" Angel demanded.

"Nothing," said Spike.

"It's very nice," said Buffy.

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Fandom:  Angel
Title:  So If You're Lonely
Author:  Sophia Jirafe   [email]   [website]
Details:  Standalone  |  R  |  het *slash*  |  11k  |  12/22/04
Characters:  Buffy, Angel, Spike
Pairings:  Buffy/Angel/Spike
Summary:  Buffy gets her way, Angel kisses, and Spike learns to be happy with what he's got. It's very nice.
Notes:  Wanders away from the S5 episode "The Girl in Question"

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