Large PrintHandheldAudioRating
using
 paypal
Twisting The Hellmouth Crossing Over Awards - Results
Site Updated: .com -> .org

The Grace of Fate

*Story**Reviews**Statistics**Related Stories**Tracking*
Story

Summary: Mitchell has some rehabilitation to deal with and gets a visit from the longest living Slayer.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Stargate > Buffy-Centered > Pairing: Other(Moderator)AvaFR181023,9954024146,63531 Jan 067 Jun 08No

NOTE: This chapter is rated FR21 which is above your chosen filter level. You can set your preferred maximum rating using the drop-down list in the top right corner of every page.

Scroll down if you still wish to read it.

Beneath Such Dreamy Weather

Note :: This chapter’s rating is FR21.


Beneath Such Dreamy Weather

The pungent and nearly spicy scent of garlic filled the small kitchen as Faith peeled the cloves Buffy had placed in front of her. Dark brows rose as she glanced up and watched her sister in arms pour oil into a thick bottomed pot and flick the burner to a medium setting before turning back to the chuck roast and liberally sprinkling it with salt and pepper and a brown powder concoction that Faith hadn’t a clue what it was but it smelled like onions.

With a shrug she freed the last clove and pushed the slightly damp herb to the side before smearing her wine glass with the residue as she lifted it to her lips. The heavy taste of Merlot filled her mouth and Faith swallowed the red wine, lips thinning slightly with the acidic after taste before she put the glass down and shook her head. “Damn B, you’re pulling out all the stops.”

The blonde glanced over her shoulder, ponytail bobbing as she tossed Faith a grin and stated, “Oh yeah,” before turning the roast over and covering the other side with the same meticulous precision.

Faith pushed herself away from the small island that sat in the center of the kitchen and snatched up the three cloves of garlic and her glass before making her way to the stove. Dropping off her tiny project she braced her hip against the counter and watched Buffy, silent a moment, before inclining her head. “So Robin will be here around four and you’re picking Cam up when?”

“Five-ish.” Buffy glanced at her, brows raised. “Why?”

She took another sip of wine. “Just makin’ sure I won’t be alone with the dinner at any point,” she smirked, “Safer that way.”

“Very nearly true.”

Faith snorted and shifted, glancing down at the counter’s contents. “Need me to chop or dice anything?”

Buffy glanced at the pot and nodded at the small bubbles that were beginning to slip up through the oil before she turned to Faith. “The onions need chopped and the carrots need diced.”

Her brow quirked. “Meaning?”

“Onions in big pieces and carrots in small ones.” She lifted the roast and lowered it gently into the oil, careful to avoid the edges of the high pot. “Oh and I got those little red potatoes you like so those can just go in whole.”

“Nice.” Faith snatched an onion and moved back toward the island and the set of very sharp, very well cared for knives that lived there. Her voice was conversational as she stated, “Ya know Robin claims you’ve domesticated me.”

There was a snort from behind her and Faith’s lips spread as Buffy shot back. “Domesticated? You? And in what alternate reality does Robin live in?”

“The one where I help cook, drink red wine and have a live in boyfriend.”

“I think that’s called growing up.”

She nodded, even though Buffy couldn’t see, and set down her wine beside the wooden chopping block and her onion on it. “Exactly, yo.”

She opened the narrow drawer nestled in the center of the island and smiled down at the neat row of shiny silver. Pulling out a thin blade with a slightly serrated edge she stepped forward, nudging the drawer closed with her hip. Lifting the onion Faith cut it down the center and then began to peel both sides. “Though I have to admit to liking things now that I would have laughed at back in the day.”

Pushing the crumbling outer layer from the board she caught a half before reaching for the knife and then sliced off the top. Pushing the knotted portion to the side she then made parallel cuts through the body keeping her fingers turned away from the blade. “I mean I’d have laughed or possibly punched someone for implying that you and me would have worked out our issues.”

“We did punch each other, repeatedly, before we got the whole friendship thing right.”

Faith’s nose wrinkled as the scent of the onion began to burn and she turned her face away, breathing through her mouth as she watched Buffy brown the roast. “You still have a wicked right hook.”

Buffy paused and turned to flash her a quick grin. “And your spin kick still breaks ribs.”

“Damn we use to wail on each other.” Shaking her head, Faith turned back to the opinion and finished the first half before using the blade’s edge to push her slices aside and then started in on the other.

“That we did.” Buffy laughed and turned back to the roast and used tongs and a sturdy fork to turn it so that the other side had a chance to brown. “We were such bitchy teenagers.”

Faith gave a surprised snort of laughter and paused just long enough in her chopping to snag another sip of wine. Putting the glass down she sent the back of Buffy’s head a considering look before asking, “So when do you want me and Robin to see ourselves to the door tonight?”

The shoulders under her perusal stiffened before Buffy shifted, hips quirking as she spun to face Faith with her eyebrows raised. “What’s that suppose to mean?”

“Come on B! This is the first chance you and your colonel will have had any alone time. So unless you wanna make this a kinky foursome I think Robin and I should duck out at an aforementioned time.”

One brow slopped downward as the other rose higher. “Aforementioned?”

“That word a day calendar you got me.” A quick shrug accompanied her explanation and she went back to chopping. “So when would you like your alone time?”

“I,” her lips dipped, “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“That’s why you got me.” She tossed the blonde a wink. “I think ahead.”

“Pfft! Since when?”

“Since there’s a low down tingle involved.”

Buffy laughed and turned back to the stove, lifting the roast free and called over her shoulder. “I need that onion pronto.” Faith finished with one last deft movement of the blade and put the knife beside her wine before lifting the board and moving toward the stove. She pushed the onions into the pot and Buffy nodded. “The garlic too.” Stepping back and around the blonde she gathered the peeled cloves and tossed them in.

The roast was eased back into the pot and Buffy turned, snatching the bottle of wine from the island and eyed out half a cup before turning the bottle around and taking a sip for herself. Thin fingers caught one of the knobs on the stove and turned the heat up just a bit to bring the pot’s contents to a simmer before she’d lower the heat and cover it. Nodding she stepped back and offered the bottle back to Faith who promptly took it and added more to her glass.

Dark brows rose. “So what’s for dessert?”

“So you’ll be sticking around for dessert?”

“Depends on what it is.”

“Have I ever let you down?” A smirk twisted Faith’s lips and Buffy rolled her eyes. “Oh shut up.”

~~~@~~~@~~~

The nervous energy that had filled Buffy during her last visit had melted away to a casual warmth that had become the subtle undertone for the dinner she had prepared and the small group now shared. The conversation had never been lacking and Cam found himself becoming more and more enamored with the larger than life personality Faith possessed and the vibrancy she brought out in Buffy.

The odd pair was constantly attempting to one up each other with stories and jokes, filling the small loft with laughter at any given moment. Cam found himself more relaxed than he had been in weeks and as the women rose from the heads of the table to gather the dishes he found Robin meeting his gaze and rising as well. “Why don’t I give you a tour of the gym downstairs and give these ladies—”

“A chance to do your dishes?”

Faith’s throaty interruption had Robin grinning as he corrected. “I was actually going to finish with get dessert ready but since you offered so nicely…”

He trailed off and raised his brows to which the brunette laughed, shaking her head. “Get outta here. ‘Fore I change my mind and become undomesticated.”

Buffy’s snicker drew Cam’s attention back to the table and she caught his eye and winked before beginning to stack the dishes. His lips dipped and he pushed at the spokes of his wheels, urging himself back from the table and stated, “You cooked. We can at least clear and clean.”

“Nah, get while the getting’s good.” Faith’s hand caught the curved side of Robin’s ass making a somewhat uncomfortable sounding crack that had the other man rising on his toes for a brief moment. “B and I got this covered.”

With an incline of his head and after another nod from his girlfriend Cam shrugged and caught the right wheel of his chair. He compressed the left so it stayed immobile and continued to pull on the other, turning himself around—thankful of the fact that Buffy had wooden floors in her living room and kitchen and throughout what little he had seen of the gym. A few deft pushes of his arms brought him toward the small elevator tucked next to the stairs and he leaned forward, promising himself one day soon he take those narrow steps, and pushed the down button as Robin made his way to him.

“The cobbler only needs fifteen more minutes.”

“So make sure your asses are up here in time!”

The two men shared a look with the conflicting statements and then Cam laughed outright when Buffy smartly added, “What she said!”

Pushing himself forward he entered the slim, closet like space and hit the button for the ground floor as Robin pulled the gate closed. Absently wondering what the third floor was but unwilling to break the companionable silence between them he stayed quiet until they reached their destination and Robin freed them. Cam found the ground floor just as he remembered it but the sun was setting, spilling the last of its soft amber and lavender light across the pine floors and bringing forth a kaleidoscope of colors through the panoramic windows that opened to the street.

“Now that’s a hell of a view.”

Robin came to his side, hands pushed deep into the pockets of his khaki slacks as he stared out at the street where the shadows were steadily growing. The silence stretched between them for several long minutes before Robin stated, his voice quiet, “It’s not easy.”

Cam’s brows pulled together with his words but he played ignorant. “The view?”

His sad attempt at humor was ignored. “Them. Being with them.”

“How’s that?”

“They’re Slayers.”

Cam shifted, turned his wheelchair so that he faced the other man and Robin stepped back so that the colonel didn’t have to crane his neck to meet his gaze. “I get what they are but I don’t get what you mean.”

“Buffy and Faith…” Robin trailed off, his lips thinning for a moment before he refocused. “They’re fighting a war most of the world knows nothing about and they’re our generals. Our leaders.” He shook his head. “They’re different from you and I. Cut off in ways we can’t even imagine.”

Cam’s chin lifted and he prompted, “But?”

“But,” Robin’s mouth curved upward, “To have them love you and I mean really love you is like nothing I’ve ever experienced.”

“So you’re sayin’ it’s tough but worth it?”

The simplistic statement had Robin nodding. “Almost always.”

“Always would get boring.”

“It would.” Robin conceded with a slight quirking of his brows.

The companionable moment continued until Cam asked, his voice curious. “What kind of cobbler is it?”

“Peach, I think.”

“Nice.”

The silence resumed.

~~~@~~~@~~~

The overstuffed cushions did little to support his lower back and Cam shifted, rearranging the cylinder shaped pillow Buffy had provided. The firmness of it told him better than the neatly pressed covering that she had bought it just for him to use and Cam smiled, slipping it further upward until the pressure building on either side of his spine eased. A petite form settled beside him and he glanced at Buffy, watched her fold her legs up beneath her and turn the remote towards the television mounted neatly on the wall.

It clicked on, the screen coming alive with far more brilliance than the small monitor provided by the hospital and Cam’s smile widened as he felt Buffy’s weight settle more fully against his body.

“Comfy?”

Her question pulled his focus away from the blue screen dancing with the DVD player’s manufacturer’s logo and he caught sight of her upturned face and nodded. “Oh yeah.”

Her smile became beaming. “Good.”

“Okay kiddies.” Their heads turned with Faith’s statement, both glancing over the back of the couch as the brunette strolled up behind it with a leather bundle tucked over arm. “Robin and I’ll see our way out.” She dropped her jacket onto the couch and caught either side of Buffy’s face between her hands and dipped the blonde’s head back as she leaned forward and over.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” was stated with a smirk before Faith’s mouth settled over Buffy’s with a loud ‘smack’ and she pulled back, giving Cam a knowing smirk. “Take real good care of my girl here.” Her hand settled on his shoulder and gave a light squeeze before she straightened and snagged her coat, slipping it on with a spinning flourish and the words, “We’ll lock up downstairs,” before she made her way to those stairs and down.

Robin’s brows rose as he met Cam’s gaze and he offered a simple, “Goodnight.”

“Night!”

Cam shook his head at Buffy’s cheerful shout and he watched Robin do the same before following his girlfriend. He shifted, narrowly avoiding dislodging the pillow supporting the lumbar curve of his spine and raised his brows at his girlfriend as he asked, “Was Faith your roommate in college?”

Her brows slopped downward, lips followed suit before understanding dawned and her mouth dropped open. “Cameron Mitchell!”

“Inquiring minds want to know.”

Perverted minds want to know and no, Faith was not my roommate in college.”

Buffy’s brow arched with the flash of disappointment that made its way across his features before he grinned. “Can’t blame a guy for dreamin’.”

“Keep on dreaming.”

He laughed and nodded. “Though I suppose it’s a good thing, having to compete with Faith would have played hell on my ego.”

“It does.”

The certainty in her voice gave him pause and Cam’s focus narrowed as Buffy turned toward the television and brought the DVD’s menu up on the screen. His mouth dipped as the unease that had been nagging him for the last few day’s finally surfaced and he shifted, lifting his arm so that it draped across the back of the sofa and Buffy’s weight shifted even closer to him.

She glanced over out of the corner of her eye. “What? No fake yawn?”

“Nah, too overplayed.”

A snicker accompanied the shake of her head as she selected play and the previews began. Cam pushed back thoughts of Lorne and his ability to see inside his mind—for the moment—and instead enjoyed the warmth of Buffy curled into his side and another horror movie she thought he’d enjoy.

“So what are we watching?”

“28 Days Later.”

He inclined his head, voice filling with confusion as he questioned, “The Sandra Bullock movie?”

Her surprised laughter was infectious as she corrected. “No! That is an entirely different type of scary movie.” She lifted her head, presented him with her smiling face and stated. “This movie has zombies, not addicts.”

“Both are dangerous.”

“But only one will eat your brains.”

His brows rose. “Seriously?”

“No, but there was this one time my senior year of high school…”

~~~@~~~@~~~

The strange combination of real life accounts from Buffy and a thoroughly satisfying love story in a zombie movie had Cam’s mouth stretched wide and his laughter was infectious as Buffy fell into giggles beside him as the movie ended to oddly cheerful music and the credits began to roll. At some point during the film Buffy had slipped comfortably against his side, her full weight pressed into him and his arm had slipped from the back of the sofa to settle over her thin shoulders. She turned to him, face lifted towards him as she offered him an almost unsettling smile as she asked, “Pet Cemetery?”

His brows rose. “Doesn’t that have a dead cat in it? Like the one that was in your house?”

Her smile widened. “Oh yeah.”

“How ‘bout we watch that tomorrow.”

Some of the laughter faded as her eyes locked with his and her heart lurched, missing a beat before speeding up to makeup for lost time. Her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip and she didn’t miss the dipping of Cam’s gaze as he watched that brief flash of pink flesh. Clearing her throat, Buffy’s chin rose as she asked, “You’re staying the night?”

The corners of his eyes gathered. “It was a thought.” Her eyes widened and his hand rose to cup her jaw, thumb lightly stroking her cheek as he leaned forward and brushed his mouth over hers before drawing back. “’Course you could just take me back and swing by the hospital tomorrow.”

She shifted, tucking her calves beneath her as she turned to face Cam fully and his arm slipped free of her shoulders as she stated, “Also a valid option.” Buffy pushed herself up higher so that she and Cam were eye to eye as she added, almost offhandedly. “Though I like what’s behind door number one better.”

His mouth quirked. “Is that so?”

She nodded and leaned closer, her head angling as she replied, “Yep,” and popped the ‘p’ so that her breath was a burst of warmth against his mouth.

Callused hands slipped around her neck, thumbs nestled in the small groves behind her ears as Cam held her immobile. Kept them that hairsbreadth apart and their breaths mingled and her heart gave that same uneven tug as her eyes hooded and she made a pained sound. The hands holding her stiffened, fingers tensing against the back of her neck but he didn’t pull her forward, didn’t close that last bit of space between them until Buffy’s hands found their way to the back of his neck and she dragged him closer.

Their mouths met, lips parting and her tongue swept in, gave chase to his own as she relearned the contours of his mouth and memorized them once more as his head dipped. Lips parting further, giving her greater access and she pulled back slightly, drew her tongue against the roof of his mouth and the hands cupping her neck tightened, his tongue coming forward to push against hers. Drawing her away from his mouth and back into her own before he pulled away and pushed his mouth against hers, softly, wetly several more times.

She swallowed, tongue slipping out to trace her lips, catch the last bit of him before Buffy opened her eyes and met his gaze. The dark light she saw there tightened her stomach and she leaned forward but Cam pulled back, his hands slipping from her neck to her shoulders and he tugged her, guided Buffy to straddle his lap as he offered her a sheepish smile.

“This is more comfortable.”

Her eyes widened and before she could question him, ask Cam if he was okay his hands found there way beneath her shirt and he began to trace lazy circles over her warm back. Fingers skimming the lacy edge of the back of her bra before he pulled her forward and caught her mouth once more. He pushed at it, his upper lip catching her bottom before he shifted his head and took full advantage of the small opening as his tongue slipped easily inside and his fingers continued their casual study of her back.

The tightness of her shirt hindered his movement and he pushed it higher as her mouth spread wider over his own and Buffy’s hands caught his shoulders. Nail beds paling as she pressed her fingers into the slopped muscles before she pulled away, breath coming in harsh pants as she locked her gaze with his and Cam simply watched her. His gaze felt heavy on her skin as Buffy pushed her weight onto her calves where they straddled his thighs and caught the edge of her shirt.

She swallowed once before tugging the thin layer of cotton up and over her head and she ignored the startled sound that came from Cam as she tossed the shirt away. Suddenly unsure Buffy kept her gaze downcast as Cam’s hands stilled against her back and without warning he gave a low chuckle. “Halleluiah!”

A startled, nervous laugh escaped Buffy and she glanced up, saw that Cam’s gaze was currently studying her face and not her assets. He winked, she smiled and his hands once again resumed tracing her bra and she saw the unasked question his gaze. She worked over her lower lip a moment before giving an abrupt nod and with one deft movement of his left hand Cam had freed the back clasps and Buffy’s brows rose.

“You’re good.” Cam’s smile spread as his hands eased up her now fully bare back, fingers working the tight muscles between her shoulders and her back curved, shoulders hunching to offer him more of those tired muscles and Buffy’s eyes opened wide as she felt her bra straps slip easily down her arms, leaving her upper half completely bare. Her gaze rose to meet his and she shook her head before stating. “I reiterate my previous statement and add a damn. You’re damn good.”

His fingers stiffened and he pushed them into the supple skin, drew them down along the curve of her shoulder blades until her back arched and she ignored the urge to cover herself as she caught Cam’s shoulders and used them to steady her suddenly much too loose upper body.

“Definitely better than I imagined.”

Her eyes opened, chin falling forward as she inhaled slowly and tried to think past the urge to simply kiss him, claim him—Buffy shook her head and caught his gaze. “You’ve imagined this?”

“On many an occasion.” His brows rose. “You haven’t?”

Cam’s eyes narrowed as he watched the blush work its way up her bare chest and his hands slipped forward, cupping her ribcage as he drew his thumbs along the undersides of her breasts. Her nipples tightened with the simple contact and her breathing became shallow as his hands rose higher, palms moving in slow circles up her body until they were parallel with her breasts and he drew them under, lifted the light weight while steadily avoiding the distended tips as his thumbs stroked her sternum.

She caught her lower lip, drew it into her mouth as she resisted the urge push her hips down, against his. Ever mindful of his injury but the torturous movements of his clever hands as they pulled away, only to come back and lift her breasts, cup them, cage them but never stroking the one spot that would bring his name from her drying mouth. His fingers worked their way along the outer edge of her breasts, a perfect mirror of one another as they skimmed over her flesh and circled her nipples only to glide away.

Her fingers wound around his wrists and she met his gaze as her mouth opened to hiss a warning but his thumbnails flicked her nipples simultaneously and her jaw clenched as she rose up, resisted the urge to wither against him, seek the easy friction and instead claimed his mouth. Filled it with her tongue and panting breathes as she released his wrists and caught his face, held him to her as he palmed either breasts before slipping his hands around her back and pulling her flush against him.

The quick movement elevated her and Buffy dipped her chin, hunched her shoulders so that their mouths still pushed at one another and his hands dropped to her hips and she felt him urging her off. She pulled back, stared down at him with wide eyes but before a spark of fear could form with thought that she had hurt him Cam smirked up at her and stated, “I need you to lay across me.”

She blinked in confusions but followed his gentle urgings so that she sat partially in his lap, with the arm of the sofa supporting her back and shoulders as he rearranged the cylinder shaped pillow supporting his own back. Buffy swallowed and closed her eyes, taking a moment to catch her breath which soon hiccupped as she felt the button of her jeans release. She turned her head towards him and opened her eyes as one hand settled over the warm skin of her stomach and his right rose to cup her jaw, thumb underlining the bottom edge of her lip.

His legs spread and she felt his erection press lightly into her hip and she shifted closer, gently bumping it and the hand on her stomach lifted to dance over the flap of material covering the zipper on her jeans. She rocked her hips again before his hand covered her mound, stilled her movements and he caught her gaze, held it.

“Tell me to stop.” She blinked, startled by the deepening of his accent and wordlessly shook her head. His hands slipped from her cheek to cup her throat as the other folded the flap of material away and caught the zipper’s clasp, pulled it down. Her hips jerked with that subtle tugging motion and her own hands rose, feet digging into the cushions of the couch so that she held herself aloft as she pushed her jeans over the swell of her hips and past the curve of her ass—suddenly grateful she’d taken Faith’s advice and ‘tidied up’ before going to get Cam.

Her jeans caught at her thighs and Cam’s hand settled over stomach again, pushed her back down and she released the rough material and caught his left hand, brought it to her mouth so that she could lay a warm, open mouth kiss against the palm and the hand cupping her throat slipped up her jaw as he freed his left. He burshed the fingertips of his free hand against her mouth and she allowed him to take back his left before guiding the index finger of his right into her mouth. Her tongue folded around it and her cheeks concaved as she sucked the digit further inside before rolling her tongue beneath it as Cam’s left hands slipped beneath the silk covering her mound and ran his hand over the narrow patch of hair.

She freed his index finger and he pulled his hand back, pushed it along her throat until it cupped the back of her neck and his other hand curved, conforming to the shape of her body and slipped a finger between the folds of her sex before drawing back and pressing the dampened digit against the hood of her clit. Her jaw clenched and she felt the hand cupping the back of her neck tighten as he shifted his finger up and pushed in, rotating gently before giving a decisive nudge every so often.

Her hips mimicked the movement of his hand and Buffy’s back arched as his rhythm increased and she cupped her breasts, caught the nipples Cam had neglected between her thumb and forefinger and treated each to a sharp twist that withered her form and dipped Cam’s hand back into the folds of her sex. He pushed past them, slipping his middle finger inside and curled it. Reaching for that small patch of slightly rougher textured skin and pressed his callused fingertip into it, pushed against it in a rapid ‘come hither’ motion that had her breath coming in harsh pants and her hips rocking against his erection.

Cam turned away from the rapid rise and fall of her abdomen to watch her face, her eyes were closed, brow pulled together and he swallowed as he caught sight of her hands working over her breasts in his peripheral vision. He turned his head and watched her body begin to coil. Muscles pulling tight and one of her hands released her breast and cupped the hand that was between her thighs, urged on the rocking of his and Cam complied.

Her breath caught, a hiccupped sound before she cried out and her body tensed, thighs clamping around their joined hands and Cam kept his tempo, watched her face go slack as she collapsed back against the arm of the couch and turned her head towards him as he finally slowed his ministrations. Pulled his hand from between her legs and used the hand cupping the back of her neck to urge her closer to him. She sat up under his gentle coaxing, eyes dark and lids at half-mast as he leaned forward, ignored the sudden burst of pain with the movement and pressed his lips against hers.

“So very damn good,” was whispered against his mouth and he laughed.

“It’s all good to me.”

The heaviness in her eyes lifted and she focused as her content smile widened to just the side of wicked and she brushed her mouth against his before she pulled back and stood. Her inner thighs gave a delicious shudder of protest as she pushed her jeans free from her body and stepped out of them. She stood before Cam in nothing more than a pair of cream colored panties that were little help in hiding the dampness of her arousal. With a shake of her head she fell to her knees in front of him and settled her hands atop his thighs.

“I’m not sure…”

Her chin lifted and the look in her eyes stalled his protests as she leaned forward and slipped the leather strap of his belt free of the buckle and he caught the cylinder pillow, pushed it higher and lifted his hips as she tugged his khakis down, fingers catching the edge of his boxers before freeing his erection. His brows slopped with the odd sensation of settling his bare ass against the couch but her hand wrapped around the base of his cock and all thoughts outside the feel of Buffy simply vanished.

Her mouth settled over the tip of him and Cam’s stomach tightened, eyes widening. “Wait, Buffy…” all other words of protest were stalled by the sensation of her mouth concaving around his cock the same way it had his finger as her tongue flattened against the underside.

His hands caught her shoulders, fingers playing over the muscles as her head began to bob and her hand tightened into a fist. Cam groaned out her name, whispered it through clenched teeth as the pain in his lower back melted away to be replaced with burning heat that was quickly spreading forward to fill his stomach as she twisted that fist in time with her mouth’s movement.

“Good. So damn good.” His muttered words rewarded him with another sweet concaving of her mouth and the burning became a tightness all too quickly. Cam caught the back of her neck, attempted to urge her away. “Buffy I’m…” He trailed off, sucking in a sharp breath as Buffy’s fist suddenly preformed a rolling sensation with her fingers and his orgasm struck, hard and fast. His hips jerked, thigh muscles cording as a spasm tightened his back. Pulling him forward and his eyes closed tight, mouth dipping into a grimace of pain even as the numbing pleasure slipped over his body.

Inch by inch his back relaxed, releasing the toxins that had built up in his muscles and his body loosened as if Stephanie had just taken him through an extensive stretch routine. He knew his smile was lazy and sated but he couldn’t seem to bring himself to care much until he felt Buffy stand, step back from him.

His brows pulled together as his mouth dipped and he slowly opened his eyes before asking, “And where’re you going?” He watched her smile and knew it had to do with the thickening of his accent but she was still inching away from him and he pushed himself up a little higher, adjusting the pillow at his back. “What is it?”

She worked at her lower lip and gave a small shrug. “I thought I should brush my teeth.”

He blinked. “Why?”

Her brow pulled together as she struggled to find the right way to explain that her only human boyfriend had preferred that she brush her teeth after oral sex. She offered simply, “Because I want to kiss you.”

“So kiss me.”

“You don’t mind?” She motioned to her mouth.

Cam shook his head. “Come’re.”

Buffy settled herself beside him and laid a chaste kiss on his mouth. His brow arched as he shook his head. “That’s not a kiss.”

Her lips quirked and she pressed her mouth against his once more, lingering as Cam’s hands found their way into her hair and tugged at the plastic tie that held her curled hair up and back. It cascaded around her shoulders, canopying their faces as his mouth pushed at hers before easing his tongue in to give hers chase. They parted after a few heat filled moments and Buffy pressed her fingertips against her mouth and fought the blush filling her cheeks as she watched him smile at her.

Cam asked simply, his words still heavy with his southern accent. “Do you snore?”

She laughed.

“No, really.”

The End?

You have reached the end of "The Grace of Fate" - so far. This story is incomplete and the last chapter was posted on 7 Jun 08.

*Story**Reviews**Statistics**Related Stories**Tracking*