Disclaimer: I don't own anything!!!! All characters belong to their creators which is most certainly not me. ::sniff sniff::
Author's Note: Enjoy!! And merry Christmas!
Buffy paid little heed to the odd looks she was receiving from the neighbors, she completely ignored the chilly wind and freezing temperature, and when the dark skinned woman standing on the porch hollered to ask if everything was fine, she just absently waved her hand. She was a little too busy at that moment to pay much attention to any one else or anything else outside of the man standing in front of her.
From the corner of her eye, Buffy caught the amused expression of her friend as Missouri stood on the porch looking down at the bickering pair, and her lips drew into a thin line at the smile on the other woman’s face. Missouri would find this funny.
Missouri always seemed to know more than she’d let on and when Buffy had been talking to the woman earlier as they shared past Christmas’ experiences it had only made the Slayer long for her family even more than she was already. And it was the longing which had led to the current argument.
“Well, in that case, I’m going out,” Missouri said, closing the door behind her. She paused between the pair and smiled, hugging Buffy briefly. “Have fun and make sure to lock up.” With that, the older woman patted the man’s shoulder and hugged Buffy once more before climbing into her car and driving off.
The pair watched the car until it’s tail lights disappeared around a corner and both sets of eyes swung back, jaw lines set.
Buffy resisted the urge to wipe that expression off of his face. She’d show him a fragile little girl, right after she broke his jaw.
He’d actually had the gall to think she was just going to stay at the house and wait for him to return.
One week till Christmas and he was actually planning on leaving her behind for some hunt!
He wasn’t acknowledging the fact that she had saved his ass the first time they had met.
Apparently he also forgot she was the one who’d sent the damned yellowed-eyed demon on a one-way trip back to hell and that had been months before she’d met him! Plus, the fact that she’d been fighting right beside him for the last seven months apparently didn’t count, not now, not when he was trying to be all cave man about her safety. She knew she should have waited to tell him. Darn it.
Here they were, one little itsy-bitsy-teensy condition, and he was trying to smoother her.
Hell with that!
She had her own plans and they sure a heck didn’t include being separated from either her husband or her family. Whether he liked it or not it wasn’t a one man show anymore, damn-it and she wasn’t letting him even try to slip out on her.
“I am not staying here!” Buffy gritted out.
“Yes, you are,” he towered over her, dwarfing her smaller frame, using every inch of his height as leverage.
“It’s Christmas--” She began, trying to reason with him only to find her sentence cut off as he interrupted her.
“Not for another week, darlin’, and I’ll be back by then,” John said, his tone patient. Buffy thought it was just a tad bit condescending.
“It’s Christmas,” she began again and when he opened his mouth to speak, she drove the heel of her booted foot down onto his instep; the heel of her three-inch heeled boot. She watched as his face darkened and heard him grinding his teeth. It would leave a nice little bruise, one he so deserved, “don’t interrupt me. It’s Christmas and we are going to spend it with our family.”
“There’s a spir--” He tried again and Buffy waved her hand.
“Is it hurting any one?” She asked.
“Hah!” She crowed. She knew it, he was just trying to avoid meeting…okay, everyone. Still, he‘d been putting it off for more than seven months now, and while she‘d been okay with it in the beginning since there had actually been some serious demons and spirits that needed to be attended too, that wasn’t the case right at the moment. It had been almost a year and she wanted to go home. With him. She wanted her family to meet the man she‘d married. “There’s always something. It‘s Christmas and we are spending it together. With our family. You‘ve spent the last twenty years after one thing or another. When was the last time you actually just had a normal Christmas?” Buffy glared at the man before her, waiting for an answer that didn‘t come. “Pull. Your. Damned. Head. Out. Of. Your. Ass.” She said, poking him in the chest with every word. “We are leaving. Together.”
“No,” he said firmly and Buffy continued to glare at the man standing before her, her hands firmly planted on her hips. Despite her pissed off expression, he still shook his head, and repeated himself, “no.”
“Why?” Buffy whined; later, she would fully admit to the whining to her sister when the story unfolded. But right then, in that moment, the Slayer would never admit to it. She didn‘t whine at her husband. Nope, not ever…well, not unless the man in question wasn‘t doing what she wanted him to do and then all bets were off.
All was fair in love an war and until she had met the man who had become her husband the Slayer had never realized how true that was.
Eleven months. Eleven frickin' months spent constantly on the move because of one stupid little blood test on Dawn. Stupid modern science and its stupid accuracy. She wasn’t in the mood to admit at the moment that she wouldn’t have traded anything for the past eleven months, even if she’d had to stay in some truly crappy places, because right then she was too busy hating the man in front of her for being a stubborn ass.
“Because your” John said, the patient tone starting to sound more than a little frustrated, “family is located over three thousand miles away and you are in no condition to travel.”
Buffy wrinkled her nose as the reminder, she was willing to admit he had a point. A point she would have been willing to concede to had it not been a week till Christmas. She’d been on the road for most of the last eleven months, the last seven months of the last year had been with him, quite a bit of it spent arguing, some of it spent…definitely not arguing.
“The doctor said I couldn’t fly, he didn’t say anything about driving,” Buffy put special emphasis on the last word.
“No. You are marching back up those stairs…” he paused for a moment, the brown eyes regarding her silently, and the corners of his lips quirked upwards. Buffy’s eyes grew slightly wary as he leaned forwards, his head dropping slightly as he brought his mouth to her ear, his breath stirring the small hairs of her neck, his hands coming up to grab her shoulders softly, and began to trail down her arms, the heat leaking through the thick material of her sweater, “or, I could carry you back in, up those stairs…” He led off, the implications clear.
Missouri was out, a nice empty house, not some thin walled motel, and there was no one to hear….
Buffy shivered, leaning into him as his hands continued to travel, a burst of chilled wind hit the flesh of her waist as his hands crept beneath her sweater.
One hand slid around her middle, the calloused fingers stroking at the smooth skin, pausing only briefly to caress the swell of her stomach as it made it‘s way to the small of her back. The other hand crept upwards and Buffy’s head dropped back as the lips began to travel down the curve of her neck and back up along her jaw line.
He pushed her backwards, her back hit the side of the large black truck, and Buffy felt the coldness of the black metal seeping through the jacket as her arms began to creep up, snaking around his neck as his mouth found hers, his teeth nipping at her lower lip. Her fingers tangled in his hair.
She loved the silkiness of his hair, the way it began to curl when he let it grow too long, the feel of it as she ran her hands through the soft strands.
His breathing became heavy, she could feel his heart begin to beat faster echoing her own. He began to draw back, taking his warmth away, and Buffy let out a huff of air full of frustration from the loss of contact.
His lips hovered over hers, their breaths mingling, just staring into each other’s eyes. Buffy tried to bring her lips to his and he moved his head back, a smirk curling his lips.
Damned smirk, she swore that the men of the family had to have perfected that stupid look. Evil. The blonde’s hazel eyes became almost green in her ire, and then she smiled. It wasn’t a very large smile, just enough to make her husband a little worried.
One of her arms unwound from his neck, the fingers slipping from their place tangled in his hair, and slid down his chest feeling the muscles in his chest and stomach contract through the thin fabric of his shirt. Her hand drifted lower, still lower, till it had reached it’s destination. Her fingers splayed out, caressing him through his jeans, and Buffy went on her tip toes, biting his lip. He stilled at the sensations her touch provoked and she moved her hand back up only marginally, the sound of the button of his jeans being undone breaking him from his immobility.
The blonde found his body pressed against hers, one of his legs gently nudging between hers, the hand that had been resting at the small of her back moved downwards, tracing the lines of her waist, the swell of her ass, and then he was pulling her upwards, bringing her weight to rest fully on him, capturing her mouth with his. The hand that had been stroking at the bottom of her breast through her bra drew down, sneaking beneath the lacy creation, and up again to tease a nipple.
He broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers.
“Upstairs?” He whispered softly, the thumbs of his hands still running circles against her flesh.
Buffy nodded, bringing her lips back to his, and she felt, for the briefest of moments, as his lips smiled against her mouth.
Her eyes flew open.
Of all the sneaky things....
Buffy pushed him back, sliding back to the ground, and poked him in the chest; hard.
"So, I guess that's a no?" He asked, amusement dancing deeply with in the brown eyes that were nearly black from desire.
Buffy straightened up, pulling her sweater back down, and glared.
The man in front of her crossed his arms, matching her glare for glare, and shook his head. The stalemate lasted all three seconds until the corners of her mouth turned downwards as she began to pout.
A large hand ran through the shaggy brown hair, a mournful twist of his lips replacing the stubborn line they had set into moments before, and his eyes fixed on some point over her shoulder very studiously avoiding the small woman standing before him.
Internally she smiled, already knowing she had won the argument. He could face demons, he could face vampires, he would even face hell itself, however, he couldn’t handle her pout; the way her full lips would protrude only marginally, the way her hazel eyes would widen. Just for good measure, she placed a hand one his chest, just over his heart, and his eyes darted back to her face, only briefly glancing the pixie-like face and he cursed.
Buffy’s lower lip trembled slightly, ever so slightly, and the broad shoulders slumped beneath the thick material of his jacket.
“When did you want to leave?” The words were forced through clenched teeth, and Buffy grabbed the lapels of his jacket, pulling him back towards her.
He still glared down at her and she nuzzled his neck, smiling when she felt a shudder pass through him. She placed soft kisses along his jaw, and pressed her lips to his, repressing a smile when he refused to kiss her back.
Two could play that game.
Her tongue darted out, lightly running along his lower lip, and one hand broke away from it’s grip on his jacket to cup his jaw, stroking the stubble covered flesh before her fingers continued on, the fingernails scraping softly against his jaw, his neck, his collarbone….
He drew in a ragged breath and Buffy took advantage, her tongue slipping into his mouth, his arms dropping as he stooped slightly, both hands cupping her ass as he pulled her up as he brought her body flush against his.
This time, Buffy broke the kiss. She smiled sweetly and placed a soft kiss on his jaw.
A growl rumbled low in his throat; she wriggled her hips against his, enjoying the way his eyes darkened with desire as she rubbed against him, and giggled in pure delight.
That should teach him to try and leave her behind.
“I already have the bags packed, you just need to bring them down,” she told him, her legs swinging through the air since her feet were still dangling off of the ground. Her smile transformed into a grin as she watched a muscle start to twitch in one of John’s cheek at the movement. The swinging caused her body to shift in a certain rhythm against him, a very constant, steady rhythm. She loved when she made him do that muscle tick, it was almost as funny as when she made the muscle above his right eye twitch. He hadn’t put her down yet and she wasn’t about to complain at the additional contact, she could use it to tease him…just a little until he finally put her down.
“You already had the bags packed?” Resignation filled his voice and Buffy nodded.
“Mmm-hmm,” she wrapped her arms around his neck again, and nuzzled his neck, softly this time, barely even touching him, and was rewarded with a deep chuckle.
“You sure you can handle the trip?” He asked, trying to delay the inevitable.
“And I am agreeing to this why?”
The Slayer pulled back, one hand pulling away from his neck, and a finger tapped thoughtfully at her chin. “Because you love me?”
“Hmmm….” John rumbled, his head dipping as his mouth sought out her neck, his hips beginning to move against hers, deepening the friction between their bodies that was being caused by her swinging legs.
“Because you want to spend time with your family?” Buffy asked, the question uttered breathlessly.
“Mmmm….” He drew he closer to him, biting the tender flesh, and Buffy’s legs faltered in their swinging.
“Because you want to spend time with your twenty-year-old daughter that you have never meet before?” Desperation fueled that last question, if they didn’t leave soon, there was no way they could get there on time, and she really did want them all to spend this Christmas together, plus, she still hadn’t told Dawn she was married.
His head snapped back and the brown eyes glared at her.
Buffy grinned cheekily at him. Dawn. When in utter trouble, use the trump card. She knew he was worried about meeting Dawn and she would have cut him slack normally. Yep, she sure would have, if she hadn’t received the news nearly a year earlier that the young woman who she had thought to be her sister was actually her daughter and the man who was Dawn’s father was wanted for fraud as well for questioning in several bizarre murders. Uh-huh. Stupid science, stupid DNA tests. God, she loved it all.
“You love to do that don’t you?” The question sounded more like a statement to Buffy’s ears and she widened her eyes, trying to look innocent.
“What? Remind you that you knocked me up with out even meeting me? That you have a daughter that is only four years younger than Sam with a woman only one year older than Dean? Yep, sure do.” Buffy smirked. “Have to say, this time…way more fun.” She laughed as a blush spread across his cheeks.
John’s expression became pained. “What exactly did I do to deserve this?” Buffy fluttered her eyelashes at him and he laughed. Buffy’s heart gave a little hiccup at the sound, it was rare that he laughed and she loved the sound of it. “I say we just go back in…” he started and Buffy shook her head.
“Uh-uh.” Buffy squirmed, weaseling her way out of his arms, skipping back out of his reach when he tried to grab her again.
Before he could get a word out she turned and opened the door, forcing him to step back if he didn’t want to be hit by it. Clambering up into the cab, she looked back at him and shut the door behind her, making shooing motions at him to get the bags.
The tall man turned away, shaking his head at his wife, and cursing softly under his breath.
Buffy rolled down the window, poking her head out of the truck.
“And tell the boys! I want everyone there!” John shook head in amazement at his wife of four months, he’d already drawn the cell phone from his pocket and begun to send the message to his sons when Buffy called out again. “And don’t just text them coordinates. I mean call them!”
Buffy watched as her husband stopped and looked at her, glaring at her briefly before he turned and stomped into the house. A smirk spread across her face and she turned on the truck. Settling happily into her seat, she flipped through radio stations, and finally finding one she liked, she began humming softly to the song on the radio.
The air from the heater began to warm her chilled skin and she blinked drowsily. It had been a long day and she turned her thoughts towards her much expanded family. Family, hmmm….
Her eyes fluttered closed and her breathing evened out as sleep stole over her.
John emerged from the house a few minutes later, his son’s teasing words still echoing in his ears.
They were already waiting for them, they'd arrived at the house two days ago, and John and Buffy would be the last to arrive. Seemed like every one had known he would cave to Buffy. Great. He was losing his touch.
The cold wind tore at him, draining away the warmth from Missouri’s house.
He struggled under the weight of Buffy’s weapon bag and mumbled under his breath, favoring his left foot slightly which had suffered the weapon bag being dropped upon it. Tossing the bags into the back of the truck, he trudged to driver’s side of the truck, and opening the door, he stopped, arrested by the vision before him.
Buffy slept, the long lashes resting against her cheek, her hair falling around her face, the curls tumbling down her chest which rose and fell with her breathing, the pink lips were parted slightly, and she snored softly.
His wife always denied she snored. Buffy had told him she was sure some one would have mentioned if she did and John really didn’t want details on just who would have informed her and what relationship they would have had with her, even though she’d offered to share. He was pretty certain that she'd been joking and hadn't wanted to test the theory, since he was already wanted for questioning in several 'strange' murder investigations he really didn't want to become a prime suspect in new ones.
He stared at her, the frozen air whipping around him, stinging his cheeks and neck, his face contemplative as he thought back on the last year.
When he’d received a call all those months ago from his sons, both telling him that the demon that torn his family apart so many years ago was finally gone, he hadn’t believed them. He continued his search, evading his sons again and again until they finally caught up with him.
He’d been more that a little surprised when they’d busted in on one of hunts. He’d been under the foot, quite literally, or a rather large demon when a small body had come hurdling over his, the sword in her slim hands snapping out to lop the creatures head off in one clean move.
She’d looked so incredible. Her hazel eyes nearly green with anger when she'd yanked him off of the floor, and she'd then proceeded to call him every conceivable name she could.
He’d tried to break in more than once and each time she’d pushed his chest, causing him to stumble back, her strength surprising him, finally he’d fallen, and Dean had stepped in, pulling her away from his father, whispering to her in quiet tones.
It had taken him several minutes to recover just from the shock of the little spit fire before he’d finally demanded to know why Dean had brought along his girlfriend.
He still remembered the look of utter horror on Buffy’s face and the choking sounds that had come from Dean at the question. How had he supposed to have known…anything at that point?
He’d just assumed and Buffy had been more than happy to correct him on just why that was a twisted picture she didn’t ever want to have in her head and that just him mentioning it gave her the, what had the word she’d used been, ah, yes, it gave her the wiggins.
That had been an…interesting time.
He’d thought she was a curse for the first couple of months, every time he tried to slip out and away she found him, carping at him at every turn. Finally, Dean and Sam had abandoned the two, telling them to call them when they’d resolved their issues, and then told Buffy that they‘d already called Dawn and she agreed with the two hightailing it out of Dodge.
There was another surprise he’d never even dreamt of. He’d had a sixteen year old daughter with a nineteen year old woman that, at that point, he‘d never even meet or heard of. Dawn was now twenty and the prospect of meeting her was frightening. He still maintained that finding out had added more gray hairs to his already graying hair.
Shaking his head, he climbed in, he shut the door quietly after him and begun driving, his eyes glancing at his wife every few minutes, smiling at the way her arms crossed protectively around her stomach.
A song began to play on the radio and he sang softly along with it.
His voice faltered as a thought struck him. Missouri had told them to lock up. A smile spread across his face and he opened the window, waving briefly as his truck passed by a very familiar sedan.
Looking in the rear-view mirror he watched as an arm stuck out of the inside of a parked car and waved back, Missouri's smiling face looking at him through the tinted glass.
John closed the window and began to sing again.
His life was filled with them.
**That's it. I had the idea for an entire story about the whole thing and decided to just do the one-shot. LOL
Hope you enjoyed!!