Written for Nekid_Spike. My prompt was Fred, a basket…and of course, nekid Spike.  Obviously meant to be an Easter fic, but I missed having it ready by a couple of days.  I blame my family who expected a big dinner that afternoon…


Title: Here comes Peter Cottontail…

Author: Slaymesoftly

Word count: 1000 (+ or -)

Rating: R or NC17

Disclaimer: not my characters, but they’re having more fun…

Summary/AN:  Set in an AU season V of AtS in which Illyria has yet to show up.

Just go with it, ‘k?



Here Comes Peter Cottontail


“So, we can’t talk about Good Friday because Angel’s a vampire and has an aversion to crosses?”


“Right.” Wesley’s answer was short and to the point.


“And we can’t color hard-boiled eggs because…?”


“Because we’re a little busy with the feud between the G’lashik clan and the G’lumpke clan.  Nobody has the time to sit around making chicken eggs pretty colors.”


“With designs on them! Don’t forget the designs.”  She appealed to Gunn, “Didn’t you used to put designs on them when you were a boy?”


Gunn just stared at her, his normal Ivy-league lawyer gaze replaced with a much older, streetwise glare.


“Oh. Right. Sorry.”  Fred smiled sheepishly and he immediately forgave her.


“It’s okay.  It’s just…Easter isn’t a big thing for anybody around here, you know? Wolfram and Hart isn’t in to religious holidays.”


“But, we could just stick with the Rites of Spring aspect of it.  And we could use demon eggs instead of chickens…” Her voice trailed off as one of their customers slithered past the open door to Gunn’s office.  “Okay, maybe not.  But, bunnies!  There could be bunnies!   Soft, cuddly…all those things our customers don’t like.”  She heaved a big sigh.  “Fine. No Easter stuff.  You guys are just no fun at all.”


Muttering to herself about Wolfram and Hart and their lack of interest in anything remotely enjoyable or wholesome, she stomped back to her lab and put away the eggs she’d already hardboiled.  As she slid them into the small refrigerator, next to a jar of Spike’s hidden stash of otter blood, she sighed again.  She was giving the egg carton an apologetic pat when she heard the door open.


She turned to see two big men wrestling a large, white, wicker laundry hamper into the room.  Attached to the top was a pink bow with a card stapled to it.


“What’s this?”


“We don’t know, and we don’t care,” one of the deliverymen growled. “All I know is it’s dammed heavy for a basket.”


“Oh, well, thanks, guys. I appreciate it. Really I do.  Ya’ll have a Happy Easter, now.”


Ignoring their rolled eyes as they left the lab, Fred walked over to the basket and walked around it several times before picking up the card attached to the bow.


“From the Easter Bunny to You”, she read aloud.  “Well, shoot. Somebody around here knows it’s a holiday.” 


With a smile, she untied the bow and lifted the lid of the large basket.


“Happy Easter, luv.”




“Um, yeah. Can you give me a hand here? Been folded up in here so long, I think I’m a bit stuck.”


“You…are those rabbit ears on your head?”


The ears flopped back and forth as he nodded.  He pushed one arm up and waved his hand around.


“Little help?”


“Oh. Sorry!  Here you go.”


Fred grabbed his hand and pulled, succeeding only in pulling the basket over onto its side.




“What happened?”  She knelt down and peered into the dark interior.  All she could see were the bobbing ears on Spike’s blond head and his bare, broad shoulders – which appeared to be wedged tightly.


“Bloody wicker is sticking me in the bum, is what happened,” he grumbled.  “Here, try again. Should be easier now.”


Fred obediently took his hand again, and, bracing her feet against the sides of the basket, she pulled with all her strength, happy to feel some effect this time.  As she pushed the basket away with her feet and Spike’s bare arm became visible, she said, “That must be really strong wicker to be able to poke you through your jeans.”


As she finished speaking, Spike suddenly burst from the basket, flying forward and knocking her flat.


“Not wearing jeans,” he said, making no attempt to get off her.  “Just the ears.”


“No jeans?  Just ears?”  Fred’s voice was a breathy squeak as she felt for herself that the body pinning her to the floor was naked.


“Nope. Celebratin’ Easter just the way I came into the world…naked.”


“Naked.  You’re naked. And on top of me…naked.”


Fred’s eyes unfocused as she allowed herself to appreciate the lean muscular body pressing her into the floor.  Without thinking, she moved against him, giggling as she felt the instant response against her leg.


“Want me to get off?” he asked, trailing his lips down her neck and nuzzling her collarbone.




“I’ll take that as a ‘no’, pet,” he said, smiling against her flesh and settling himself between her legs. Legs which had somehow opened of their own accord to allow his slim hips to slide between her thighs.


“You…you’re naked,” she repeated for lack of more sparkling conversation.


“Uh huh,” he mumbled.  “I prefer to make love that way. It’s more…” He wriggled against her, earning another “Guh!” and a responsive  wriggle back.


“More…?” Fred’s gasped question was accompanied by an involuntary moan as she ground against him.




“But I’m not naked.” she complained, struggling to hold up her end of the conversation while wrapping her legs around his hips and clutching his ass with both hands.


“Noticed that,” he agreed, dropping his head and using his teeth to begin ripping the buttons off her blouse.  “Gonna fix it, though.”


“I’m not sure this is what I had in mind when I said I wanted to do something for Easter…”


As Spike pushed her shirt open and nuzzled until his nose was under her skimpy bra, he mumbled around the nipple in his mouth, “It wasn’t?  Are you sure?”


Arching into his mouth, Fred forgot what she’d been talking about as he sucked on her nipple almost, but not quite, to the point of pain.


“Am I sure about what?”  She mewed as one of his hands dropped to her waist and unsnapped her jeans.   His mouth followed his hand down her torso, leaving wet open-mouthed kisses as he slid down her legs, pulling her jeans with him.  When he had pulled them completely off, he kissed his way back up her legs, alternating sides until he reached the apex of her thighs. Giving her slit a few good licks that had her whimpering and spreading her legs wider, he smiled to himself.


“Nothing, love,” he crooned. “Not a bloody thing.”


He slid up her body until the tip of his cock was nudging its way into her.  While Fred arched her hips up in an attempt to take him in, Spike continued to tease her by pulling out and brushing against her clit.  Exasperated with his chuckling as he kept her waiting, Fred grabbed his ass with both hands and pulled him to where she wanted him.


She ran her hands around his muscular buttocks, flinching when she encountered something soft and puffy.  “What…?”


“ ‘s just my tail, pet,” he assured her. 


“You have a tail?”


“Wouldn’t be much of an Easter bunny without my ears and tail, now would I?  I’d just be some naked bloke what got himself wedged in a big basket.”


He thrust into her, smothering her surprised gasp with his lips and kissing her until she began moving under him.  He broke the kiss long enough for her to murmur, “My own Easter Bunny.”


“An’ don’t you forget it,” he growled, before resuming the kiss and showing her a whole new meaning to the words “going at it like rabbits”.


The End