"I could have anything. Anyone. Even you, Spike."

Spike watched, hypnotized, as Buffy moved so close he could smell the blood pumping through her veins.

"I could ride you at a gallop 'til your legs buckled and your eyes rolled up," Faith breathed from Buffy's shiny mouth. "I've got muscles you've never even dreamed of. I could squeeze you 'til you popped like warm champagne and you'd beg me to hurt you just a little bit more -- and you know why I don't?"

Her hot palms burned into his chest and every dead nerve ending in Spike's body hummed with desire. Why? he pleaded silently, Why not?

Her lashes swept down and up as she scanned him from his shitkicker boots to his Billy Idol hair. Smiling seductively, she settled on an answer. "Hell if I know."

Suddenly, she was upon him, her soft tongue making contact with his.

Spike bristled, wondering if this was the product of another one of Red's spells. Then again, did it really matter? He took hold of her head roughly, all thoughts replaced by a repetitive exclamation: Buffy!

Now this was fun. Why B'd never taken advantage of this golden opportunity, Faith couldn't figure. But she could rectify that right now, couldn't she? "Out," she said between fevered kisses, "back..."

And that was a fantastic idea. Spike took Buffy's leather-clad legs in his arms as they stumbled past dancing bodies, through the back door and into the dark alley behind the Bronze.

He spied a crate and deposited her on top of it, facing him. She tugged at his buckle and opened his jeans.

Spike was delighted with Buffy's newfound brazenness. "Whatever spell you're under or whatever you're on, pet, I love Ohh...!"

Buffy's hot little mouth had enveloped his cock. Her tantalizingly glossy red lips slid up and down his shaft, while the golden skin of her hands that pumped below glazed over with spit and secretions.

It wasn't long before he was pulling her hair and roaring like a beast and "OH, HELL!"

The Slayer swallowed. Every little jet.

Faith wiped her mouth and started to peel off her shirt. "I hear vamps can keep it up forever."

Dazed, Spike nodded, Buffy naked being his predominant thought.

"That's mighty convenient." She noticed him ogling, and pinched Buffy's pink nipples. "You want this body?"

"Yes," Spike said, breathless.

"Bet you never thought I'd let you touch me like this." She cupped her breasts and wrapped them around his length.

His engorged head bobbed up and touched Buffy's chin, rendering him speechless.

"You've always wanted to fuck me," she said, reading his lust-ridden features, "haven't you?"

"From the very first second I saw you," he confessed raggedly, his cock close to exploding again from being agitated between Buffy's baby-soft breasts.

"Should've just taken me," she said offhandedly.

His eyes rolled up. "Oh god!"

"Whoa, Billy," she said, standing. "I think that's better spent somewhere else, don't you?"

"Slayer," was all he could muster.

Aw, the neutered vampire was trying to look menacing! Faith flung him back-first on the cold asphalt. "Like it rough?"

His eyes flashed in response as he watched her yank off her leather pants. No knickers underneath.

"Me too," she said, straddling him. "Too bad you can't do anything about that."

Buffy didn't just want sex, she wanted rough sex! Spike cursed the chip for the millionth time that day, this time really meaning it.

Faith smiled as she sank down on his rigid cock and guided his hands to her breasts.

"Oh bloody hell, Slayer..." He squoze as hard as he could without the chip going off.

"Feel good?"

He could only sputter. Good didn't even begin to describe it.

She rose and fell, milking him with each muscle contraction. "What I tell you, baby?"

Through his blinding euphoria, Spike heard something from the back door of the Bronze. Assuming Buffy would care, he reluctantly pointed out, "Someone coming."

"The only one who's comin', Spike, is you." Her hair spilled over his face. "And me if you do your job right."

Well, that worked for him. Grabbing her by the hips, he ignored the people who emerged, stopped, and walked away giggling.

"What kinda kinks do you like, huh, Spike?" she asked, pulling his belt buckle out of his open jeans. "You bein' a vampire and all."

"Don't need..."

"You don't need?" She snapped the belt up and ripped his shirt open. "Oh I think you need."

She whipped the belt across his chest, leaving a nasty red mark on his alabaster skin, and Spike cried out, shocked that Buffy was capable of any such thing. Has to be a spell, he resolved once and for all. Good spell.

She hit him again. "Christ!"

"Ooh, the Lord's name in vain!" She laughed throatily. "You're baaaaad. Can't you do any better than that?"

Spike, having had enough of Buffy's taunting, quickly spun her around, her naked bottom hitting the cold ground.

"Yeah, I can," he said, and thrust deep into her slick depths.

"That's more like it!" She mussed his hair with her fingertips and wrapped her legs around him, digging her heels into his ass. "Unh, yeah!"

"Slayer," he rasped. "So... bloody... hot."

"Mmm. I am a cute little nugget, aren't I?"

"Yeah," he said through a chuckle, and buried his face in her neck. God, she smelled good. "Drives me crazy."

"Always wanted to bite me, huh?"

Was that a trick question? "...Yes."

"Want to now?" she asked breathlessly as she lifted her pelvis to meet his every push.

Bloodlust burned in the back of his throat. "Yeah."

"But you can't, huh?"

He shut his eyes tightly. "No."

"That blows." Biting Buffy's lip, Faith thought she'd play another little game. "I've always wanted you to."

He opened his eyes. "Yeah?"

She rolled him onto his back, and straddled him again. "I've always thought about it," she said in her best Coy Little Buffy impression.

"You..." Wait. Was this part of the spell?

"I've always wanted you, Spike."

Bloody. Hell. "I'll get it out, I promise you... give you whatever you want..."

"I dare you to get it out. I dare you to come after me." She watched his face contort as she continued to ride him. Oh, I know what'll throw you over the edge, she thought wickedly. Descending, she bit into his neck.

Spike thought in rapturous bursts: Animal like me... Perfect... Everything... Buffy!

And as he came into her hot, welcoming core, his last thought escaped from his mouth. "I fucking love you!"

Suddenly, Faith arched and ground into him, and Spike felt her shudder and tighten around his cock, signaling her climax.

She gasped headily as she came down from the high, then laughed.

Spike reached up to caress her glowing, gorgeous face. "Buffy, I love you."

Dammit B, everybody loves *you.* Faith wrinkled Buffy's brow, cast Buffy's hand back, and slapped him. Hard.

"What was that for?"

"Fuck you." Shaking, she jumped up and hurriedly grabbed her clothes.

"Buffy--"

"Don't fucking call me that!"

As she ran off, leaving him there alone, Spike looked down at his now flaccid penis, shining with the juices of... Buffy. The Slayer. His mortal enemy. The girl he... loves? What? No.

He shook his head and sat up to fasten his jeans, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

Was that fear he heard in Buffy's voice? Sadness? Plain old rage?

Hell.

He'd said it.

Well of course she'd run off like that. What was he thinking?

"Aaarrgh!" he roared, hopping up and kicking a trash can. "BLOODY SPELLS!"

Two days.

Almost forty-eight hours had passed, and Spike had yet to find the courage to leave his crypt. He was consumed with both the elation of possessing a slayer and the blind terror of having said those three incriminating words.

Which had been forced into his head and out of his mouth by a meddling carrot-topped co-ed, no doubt.

He'd figured it this way: Red cast some sort of mutual good will spell to make up for her previous debacle, only it took a tragic sexual turn thanks to Buffy's raging hormones, pent up frustration and painfully obvious attraction to him.

It must have worn off the moment that Buffy looked at him with all that fear, revulsion and internal torment, right after he said it. She had to know he'd been a puppet too -- or was she thick enough to believe he actually meant it?

He wanted to find Willow and rip her heart out.

Except that he kind of liked Willow, and besides, the first part wasn't all bad. From a purely objective standpoint he'd confirmed some long-suspected abilities totally unique to slayers -- or this slayer anyway. And the thing was, she had these incredible eyes...

This had to stop.

"Buck up, mate," he said to himself. "Find her and just... take it back."

Couldn't be that hard, right?

"Right."

He grabbed his coat and headed out.

* * *

How dare she come back to the Bronze, Spike thought bitterly, and just stand there chatting happily with her little friends like nothing ever happened?

Time to remind her. No, time to take it back -- that's it.

He took a deep breath and approached her.

"Buffy."

"Wha--?" Buffy turned around. "Spike," she said, expertly giving him her patented Buffy-to-Spike reaction, the one that said he was just a pesterly gnat she had no time for. "What do you want?"

"Buffy, can I speak to you alone for a second?"

"Why? And what's with the Buffy all of a sudden?"

He grit his teeth. "Slayer."

"Okay, okay." Buffy threw Willow a shrug, and followed Spike to a darkened spot under a staircase.

"Right." Spike began to pace.

Buffy looked around as if she was on Candid Camera. "Are you actually going to talk? I don't really have time--"

"About the other night. About what I said."

"The other night?"

"Yeah."

She looked at him blankly. "What'd you say?"

"When I said I loved you, that was the spell talking, all right? You can thank bloody Velma for that." He gestured at Willow.

"You mean a couple of months ago, when we were... betrothed." Buffy was trying to forget that embarrassing little episode. Why was he bringing this up now? Had he joined some kind of vampire twelve step program?

"No, the other night. When we..." he jerked his head to the side.

Again with the blank stare. "When we...?"

"Oh, come on! Don't play dumb with me! When we had it off!"

"Had what off?"

"Oh, for bloody--" He looked around him and leaned in. "When you rutted me like a wild cheetah in heat."

Buffy's features froze. When I whatted like a what huh in who?

"It was the spell."

Suddenly, she felt ill. "This is a joke, right? Please tell me this is a sick and misguided joke."

"Don't pretend you don't remember, woman. Because I was under it too," he came close to her ear and continued in a low murmur, "and I damn well remember every bleedin' second. Every sigh, every wriggle, every birthmark..."

"Oh... oh god." Faith, that conniving little whore! With Spike? "I'm gonna be sick."

He pulled away, shocked and disgusted. "Bloody nitwit! I should've known better than to think--"

She turned on him. "You asshole!"

"What?"

"You, oh god, you just went for it?"

"What? Are you daft? You seduced me! You practically attacked me!"

"That wasn't me." Buffy forced back angry tears.

"I know -- it was the spell."

"Spike, there was no spell."

"What d'you mean there was no--"

"It was Faith."

"What was faith?"

"Faith. The other slayer. She was in my body. She was..." Another wave of revulsion. "She was the one who... Oh I'm really gonna kill her now."

"She was in your body." Spike found this all very hard to believe.

"She had this ancient magical doo-dad that switched our bodies -- I was in hers, she was in mine. Get it? She was planning to take over my life. I guess she thought it'd be funny to sleep with you," she said bitterly.

"Wh--..." He stopped to absorb this new information. It sort of made sense: the slayer gone bad, back with a vengeance. Well, that was a funny one. Until the other shoe dropped, and it was his turn to feel ill. "I wasn't under a spell?"

"No spell," Buffy said, then his meaning hit her. "Wait."

"Sorry, gotta go." His duster flared out behind him.

"Spike?"

Reluctantly, he turned to face her, then quickly trained his gaze on the floor.

"You hate me." Vampires without souls can't love anyway. ...Right?

"Deeply."

"Why did you...?"

He scoffed. "Well, that's a stupid question. You were all over me. I am a man, after all."

"No -- first of all, let's get one thing straight. I wasn't all over you. Faith was all over you."

"Sure as hell looked like you," he said, adding to himself, Felt like you, smelled and tasted like you...

"I meant, why... about the other thing."

"Right. Heat of the moment and all that. Forgot who you were."

"Um. Yeah. Okay." I'll go with that, she thought as she tried to shake off the uneasy feeling curling around her. "Listen. You have to promise me you won't tell a soul--"

He backed off, head held up high. "Wha', think I'm proud of it?"

"No, I just mean--" She took a deep breath.

"I know what you mean. Look, I'd be offed if anyone heard about this. Bad enough I'm already defanged." Her eyes searched his, pleading and afraid, and he sighed. "Your blockhead boyfriends will never know."

"Thank you. Now, excuse me while I search out and destroy Faith."

"Oh, right, Faith. Think she's still in town?" he asked with a wicked grin and an eyebrow wiggle.

"Not if she knows what's good for her. And don't get any ideas. Believe me, you were just a toy to her."

"Oh, I don't know, Slayer. She came like mad when I said it."

"When you... ugh. Okay, this is too weird. Let's not--"

"And, she slapped me and ran off when I said your name."

"--talk about this anymore."

"Guess she likes me, then."

"I thought you forgot who I was."

"Huh?" Bloody big mouth.

Buffy shook her head. "Forget it. This discussion is ove-r--Riley!" Suddenly, a tall, fair-haired boy stood before her.

"Buffy," Riley looked cautiously at Spike. "What are you doing talking to Hostile 17?"

"I'm not."

"You're not."

"Nope," she managed cheerfully.

"Okay..."

"Shall we?" Buffy led her boyfriend away from the darkened stairway.

In their wake, a confused vampire stood cursing in the shadows.

"Oh God, not you."

"Sorry, but I happen to live in the neighborhood." Spike pointed at his crypt door a few yards away.

"Well, can't you move somewhere else? I'm working here."

"And you might notice I just helped you work. The slightest bit of gratitude wouldn't be--"

"I don't need your 'help', Spike," Buffy said, complete with air-quotes.

"What was--" he aped the air-quotes and looked astonished, "what was that?"

"It means your help is never really help."

"My help is bloody well good help!"

"Well, would you stop helping? It's weird."

"Fine." He stormed off to his crypt, then thought better of it. "You know what's the matter with you?"

Buffy sighed, eyes closed. "What, Spike."

"That!" He pointed at her. "You close your eyes to everything, wishing it'll go away. But it won't." He moved closer. "I won't go away, no matter how much you want me to. I'll most likely outlive you, Slayer."

She twirled a stake between her fingers. "Not if I kill you right now."

"Yeah. But you won't." He turned towards his crypt again.

Buffy suddenly asked, "Why don't you go away?"

"What?"

"Why don't you leave? There's nothing here for you. I mean, yeah, Hellmouth, mystical monster magnet, but it's not like you can even be evil anymore--"

"I can too be evil!"

"--and we're not helping you get your blood anymore, you don't need us... And no one's gonna de-chip you any time soon. So why don't you just leave?"

"W--" he flustered. "Well, because!"

She waited patiently.

"Because you drive me bloody insane, that's why!"

"Who, me?"

"'Who me.' Yeah, you! With your aggravatin' little questions and your aggravating little facial expressions, and your aggravating little outfits, and...!"

She folded her arms, stake tapping against her shoulder. A tiny smile curled her lips.

He melted. "...And your pretty little smile."

Buffy stiffened. "Spike."

"I know." He tightened his fists, and turned around.

"Spike."

He spun to face her again.

"It wasn't me."

His jaw clenched. "I know that."

"It kills me that she did that."

"Don't know why you're tellin' me this, already heard your song and dance. It wasn't you, it was her, you're repulsed by me, the thought of sex with me makes you quiver with digust--"

"Spike, that's not it. Not all of it."

"What, there's more?"

"When you told me," Buffy said, "I was upset, and furious, and sickened that someone used my body without my knowledge for... that. It's like being raped, you know."

Spike looked around. He hadn't thought about it that way. "Buffy, I'd never..."

"I don't blame you, Spike. I blame Faith," Buffy said. "She has a history of boyfriend-stealing with me, and--"

Spike's eyebrow arched.

Buffy caught herself. "Not that you're my, not that you're even mine in any way -- but, well actually, you're my enemy, not hers to just, you know, have her way with."

He smiled, thoroughly charmed by her babbling.

"I mean, I shouldn't be surprised that you'd like Faith..."

Spike looked quizzically at her.

"But so much she'd make you say something like that?"

"Buffy. It wasn't her."

"No. It was."

"I wasn't bloody talking to her! It wasn't about the sex."

Buffy closed her eyes.

"It was about you. How I feel about you."

Her eyes flew open. Did she just hear what she thought she heard?

Spike yelled, "Now I'm not going to say any more because I know where this is going and this is ridiculous and I'm leaving!"

He quickly turned and stomped into his crypt.

Buffy watched him slam the door. "Yeah, okay, I should be going now too."

She turned and started her long trek back to campus.

"Buffy? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Riley. I'm sorry." She willed herself to relax in his arms.

He sat up. "This is about Faith again, isn't it."

Buffy hated keeping secrets from her boyfriend, but their relationship depended on this secret never getting out. "What makes you think that?"

"You're not letting me touch you. I thought we'd gotten past this."

"I'm sorry." She sat up in his bed, eyes fixed on his basketball poster. "It's just that Faith used my body for all sorts of thrills. It's unsettling."

"All sorts?" he teased, touching her cheek. "I thought I was the only thrill."

"Of course you were!" Buffy said, evading his hand. "I meant you. And, drinking and stuff."

Something about her reaction made him ask again. "You... sure I was the only thrill?"

Buffy growled in exasperation as she stood up. "God Spike will you just leave it alone!"

Riley blinked.

Buffy blinked.

Riley said shakily, "What did you just call me?"

Buffy's stomach began to burn. Her hands trembled. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry. "What?"

"You just called me..." He stood up, then spun her around to face him.

She kept her gaze on the floor.

"Look at me, Buffy," he said, growing increasingly angry.

"No?"

"Spike," he spat, disgusted. "The other thrill."

"Riley, it -- it wasn't me," she reasoned.

"Somehow I don't think he knew that." He was buttoning his jeans.

"Where are you going?"

He nodded compulsively as he answered, "I'm going to go kill him."

Buffy was outraged. "It wasn't his fault!"

"Wasn't his fault? What, now you're protecting him? Again?"

"No, I'm just... It's not like he's got a conscience, Riley--"

"Yeah, exactly. I thought that was the point!" He threw his hands in the air. "I don't know what to think. You hide him from the Initiative, you tell me you're getting married--"

"That was a spell!"

"Yeah, but why him? What is it with you and him, Buffy?"

"There is no 'me and him'," she said. "I am not the one who did this. Faith is the one who's responsible for this. For all of this." She pointed between them. "If you're gonna kill anyone, kill her. Please."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but she's human, and Spike's a demon."

"He's a demon with a chip in his head."

"Chip or no chip, he's a demon that should be put down."

"Hey! He gets put down when I say he gets put down."

"So you're the only one who gets to kill him?"

"Well, yeah, I'm the Slayer."

"Know what, Buffy? I'm not buying this." Riley put his shirt on. "I don't think it's just that he's harmless. I think he's got some sick little fixation on you... and you like it."

"How dare you," Buffy said indignantly. "How dare you judge me!"

"Why don't you prove I'm wrong after he's dust."

* * *

"Good ole' Hostile 17," Forrest said. "Thirty yards southwest."

"Let's move," Riley said.

"Oh, wait. Civilian." Forrest focused his lens. "That is if your girlfriend counts as a civilian."

"What? Give me that." He swiped the night goggles out of Forrest's hand.

* * *

"What do you want, Slayer?"

"I want you to get out of town."

"I told you I'm not leaving--"

"The Initiative. Is after you... specifically."

"What, you didn't go and tell your big burlap sack of a boyfriend, did you?"

She didn't answer.

"I was joking, love."

"Uh. It sort of... slipped out."

Spike stared at her, mouth agape. "What the hell is wrong with you? I was keeping it a secret just fine! What on earth could you have said--"

"I called him Spike."

He paused to register the information, then was consumed by uproarious laughter. "Oh, that's rich! I love it."

Buffy's eyes widened. "Not during sex or anything -- Ew!"

"Oh. That's too bad." He wiped a tear from his cheek. "When, then?"

She smirked. "When I was telling him to shut up."

"Ooh, kinky."

"Anyway, he's seriously trying to kill you now, so you have to get out of here--"

"And you don't want me to die?"

"Well, no, not unless it's by my hand."

Spike said, awestruck, "That's exactly the way I feel about you."

"Touching as this moment is, Spike, my boyfriend is not so much."

"Right then. Where do you propose I go, Oh Great Taskmaster?"

At that moment, an arrow flew into Spike's chest.

"Spike!" Buffy jumped on him, toppling them both to the ground and hiding them in the tall grass.

* * *

"Uh-huh," Forrest said speculatively. "Looks like she doesn't just slay vampires."

Graham chuckled.

Riley lunged and grabbed Forrest by the collar. "If you ever say anything like that again -- think anything like that again--"

"Sorry, man. I'm just sayin'--"

"You're not saying anything. Your orders are to seek and destroy. That's all."

"Orders? You pullin' rank on me on unofficial business now?"

Graham got between them. "He's right, man, it's pretty obvious this is personal. This HST isn't Initiative priority anymore, and if the Slayer's protecting him -- we can't fight her."

"I'm not asking you to fight her--"

At once, their beepers went off. "Damn," Riley said.

"We gotta take this, Finn," Graham said.

Forrest added, "Your jealous rampage will have to wait."

* * *

"Bloody... hell!" Spike plucked the arrow out and counted the inches from his heart. Three.

From her position astraddle Spike, Buffy scanned the woods.

He couldn't help but remember the last time he'd seen her like that. Perfect little breasts jiggling as she rode him to a climax...

The pain in his chest miraculously disappeared.

"They're up there, but I can't tell how far," she whispered. "Can you tell?"

"Yeah," he said, cocking his head and placing his hands on her hips. "Don't move."

After a minute, she said, "Well?"

"Well, you can move a little," he chuckled, and tightened his hold.

"Oh! Spike!" She rolled off of him, disgusted. "You're such a pig!"

"I'm sorry love, I couldn't resist."

"This is a life or death situation! Do you have to be so horny all the time?"

"Well, yeah. It's the only fun I get to have anymore."

"Well, stop having it with me."

Spike picked up the faint yet unmistakable scent of Buffy's arousal. Unfortunately, this wasn't the time or place to pursue it. "If you insist."

"Will you make yourself useful and tell me where they are?"

He peered into the shadows, listening. "I think they're gone, love."

"That's weird. Why would they leave?"

"Maybe they thought they got me."

"Whatever, let's get out of here." Buffy grabbed his hand and pulled him up.

"Where are we going?"

Walking ahead of him, she threw over her shoulder, "L.A."

Spike stopped in his tracks. "What?"

"Are you mad? You're sending me to Angel's?"

"That's the plan," Buffy said, peeling a stray thread from Spike's chair as he paced around his crypt.

"If you'll recall, I got Angel tortured and very nearly dead not five months ago!"

"What can I say? He's very forgiving."

His eyes narrowed. "What did you tell him?"

"Nothing."

"You told him something."

"I... told him you have this chip now," she said quietly, "and that you're trying to be good."

"Trying to be good?" Spike flailed his arms around. "I am NOT good! I am EVIL! And there's no way I'll ever join his goody-good little nancyboy brigade! EVER!"

"I know. But can you just pretend for a little while?"

He looked at Buffy. "Why do you care?"

"I told you--"

"No," he cradled her chin, forcing her to face him. "Tell me why you care."

She shrugged him off. "I don't know."

Spike sighed. "Join the bloody club."

* * *

"Grandpa-pa!"

"Just shut up and get in," Angel said from the driver's side of the black convertible.

Spike jumped over the door and made himself comfortable, angling mirrors and tuning radio knobs. "Sure you don't want to come, pet? Road trip." He gave her a devilish brow twitch. "Could be fun."

"Got all the fun I can handle right here, thanks," Buffy said, hand resting on the driver's side door. "Hellmouth. It's a non-stop party."

Angel said, "I'll keep the calls emergency only."

Spike read between the lines in a deep baritone, "Like if Junior here gets a chipectomy and eats the citizens I've worked so valiantly to protect."

Buffy sent him a withering glare.

Angel sighed. "See ya, Buffy."

The car slowly pulled away, and Spike pursed his lips to send her a kiss. "So long, kitten." He winked. "Don't forget to write."

"Already forgotten." She called after them worriedly, "Try not to kill each other on the way, 'kay?"

Vamping out, Spike bent over Angel, poised to attack.

Angel responded with a swift backhand, and Spike reluctantly returned to his seat. "You're no fun anymore."

Buffy muttered under her breath, "No, my life isn't weird."

She noticed her stomach was doing backflips, and tried to pinpoint the source.

Angel. Seeing Angel again.

And now she had to go talk to Riley.

But it wasn't just them. It was also... Spike.

"Oh God. Kill me now."

* * *

"You're breaking up with me?"

"I can't do this anymore," Riley said.

"You're breaking up with me," Buffy tried to process. "Why?"

"I won't play second fiddle to a vampire."

"You're not! You're... first fiddle!" she cried. "He's not even a fiddle!"

"How do you expect me to believe that when you constantly put him before me? When you lie to me for weeks about what happened, and you go rushing to his defense!"

"I didn't lie, I... omitted."

"And now, thanks to you, I'm the laughingstock of my unit!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Last night, my... subordinates assumed you were screwing around with Hostile 17."

"Well, maybe if you weren't spying on me..."

"On you? We were looking for him!"

"Well, I'm sorry but in my line of work we sometimes cross paths!"

"This morning, I had to punch out a cadet for asking me how 'Boffy the Vampire Layer' was doing!"

"Don't do me any favors."

"Don't worry. From now on, I won't."

"Riley!" Buffy watched her door slam, and dazedly sat down on her bed. "Crap."

* * *

"What's he doing here?" Cordelia asked.

"Didn't you tell her, Wes?"

"I didn't have a chance."

"Hey, old chums," Spike said, putting an arm around each of them. "Miss me?" He scrutinized Wesley. "Who the hell are you?"

Cordelia was unmoved. "Are you going to stake him, or should I?"

"Cordy," Angel said. "Spike's gonna be hiding out here for a few days. You have nothing to worry about, he's got a chip that stops him from hurting any living thing."

"And I should believe that why?"

"Buffy said so."

"Oh, Buffy said it. It must be true."

"Want I should make a demonstration?" Spike volunteered.

"No, thanks. Really." Cordelia removed his arm from her neck and accosted Angel. "Now, if he can't hurt a living thing, does that mean he can hurt you?"

"Technically, yeah," Angel said.

"Okay, thanks for coming by," Cordelia said, ushering him out the door. "You're not invited back."

"I won't let him hurt me, Cordy."

Wesley stepped up. "I'm inclined to agree with Cordelia on this one, Angel. From everything I know about him, he's... volatile to say the least."

"Do I know you, mate?"

Angel said to Wesley, "I wasn't very reliable either... before. Buffy wants me to give him a chance, so I'm giving him one. The second he does something to prove otherwise, he's out of here, you have my word."

God, they were boring. Spike took a seat on the couch. "Comfy."

"Glad you like it," Angel said. "That's your bed."

"What, no telly? How will I watch my stories?"

Cordelia rolled her eyes and walked away. "Oh, he's fun."

"Spike, we need to talk."

Spike had been at Angel's for three nights, taking full advantage of all of the amenities. At the moment, he was perusing Wesley's Herald Tribune and sipping a cup of Angel's best blood. "'Bout what, Peaches?"

"Will you not call me that?"

"Granddad?"

"William?"

Spike sighed, put the paper away, and sat up on the couch. "Alright, talk."

"Buffy told me this chip is changing you."

Spike looked at his feet.

"I don't believe that for a second."

He eyed Angel suspiciously. "You don't."

"Science can't change you. Only you can."

"Oh, bugger this." He got up and walked away.

"This chip won't give you a soul, Spike, but it's giving you a choice. Either you spend the rest of your days whining about it, or you give in and fight the good fight."

"Yeah? And why on earth would I want to do that?"

Angel looked him in the eye. "I think we both know the answer to that."

He played it safe. "Sorry, but you'll have to be more specific..."

"Um? Help?" Cordelia's voice.

Spike sighed in relief. Saved by the... wild-eyed brunette holding a large knife to Cordelia's throat?

"Give me the knife," Angel said, moving with extreme caution, "Faith."

"Faith?"

She recognized Spike as he craned to get a look. "Oh, hey, Billy-boy. What're you doin' here?"

"Workin' on my tan," Spike returned flirtatiously. She was cute. No wonder Buffy hated her so much.

Angel looked from Spike to Faith. "You know each other?"

"Oh yeah," Faith said. "We go way back. A whole two weeks. How's it hangin?"

Spike adjusted his pants. "None the worse for wear."

"You two..." Angel trailed off and shook his head.

"Okay, as gross as this little chat is," Cordelia said, "Can she let me go now?"

"Give me the knife," Angel said again.

"Hm... let's see. No."

"Love, we're all friends here." Spike approached her confidently. "Well, at least you and me are. Set the bint free and let's go have ourselves some real fun."

Faith studied his expression. "I thought you were Buffy-trained now."

He mashed his lip. "You thought wrong."

"Good." She cast Cordelia aside. "'Cause I hate vamps like that."

"Preaching to the choir."

She took his outstretched hand.

"Uh, gramps, we're gonna go paint the town red," Spike said with a wink. "Don't wait up."

Expressionless, Angel watched them leave.

Cordelia asked as she rubbed her throat, "What the heck?"

Angel said, "Spike just saved you."

* * *

As soon as they got outside, Faith shoved Spike against a wall. "What's your game, Blondie? Tryin' to get me on your side?"

"My side?" he croaked through a blocked windpipe. "I thought you were already there."

"I mean the Buffy-Angel crew."

"You think I'm with them? Please!"

"Well I know you got that chip. And I know you're in love with one of 'em."

"Yeah. But Angel and I would never work out."

With a cackle, Faith loosened her grip. "You'd make a wicked hot couple, though. Wouldn't mind bein' the meat in that sandwich."

"Let's not go there," Spike said with a cryptic smile, then followed her as she walked. Fishing a pack of Marlboros out of his jacket pocket, he asked, "So what's this about? Comin' here and terrorizing the commonfolk?"

"I don't know. Bored, I guess." She shook her head when he offered her a smoke.

"Good a reason as any," he shrugged.

"Plus I hate them. Fuckers ruined my life."

"Yeah," he lit his cigarette, "Me too."

"So, Angel doesn't have you set up for some kinda demon rehab?"

"Well, I think that's his plan. But I'm just here for the perks." He pulled two items out of his pocket: Angel's car keys and Wesley's wallet.

"Nice!" She laughed raucously. "Any cash?"

"Not a nickel." Cig in his mouth, he dealt her five credit cards and held Wesley's I.D. beside his face. "Thirsty?"

* * *

"Body shot," Faith said, sprinkling salt on Spike's neck.

He shivered as her hot tongue lathed his cool skin.

After sucking on her lime, she said, "Missed a spot."

"Faith, what are you doing?" he drawled, when he knew very well that she was sticking her tongue in his ear.

"Think I came all the way out here not to get my freak on?" she murmured into him. "I haven't had a good lay in... two weeks."

"I remember." He smiled and gently pushed her off. "But I don't think this is a good idea."

"You 'don't think this is a good idea'? Is that William the Fierce and Bloody talking, or Spike the Chip-whipped?"

"Hey, I'm still bad," his ego gruffed. "Chip or no chip."

"Y'know, I've had somethin' like a chip in my head all my life. Never stopped me."

He chuckled. "You really think you're all big and bad now, don't you?"

"Oh, I am," Faith said, pulling something wooden and deadly out of her jeans. "I may not be your precious Buff, but I can still stake you in a heartbeat."

"You threatening me?"

"I don't know. I'm unstable. I never know what I'm gonna do next."

Spike mulled it over. Faith was beautiful. And hot as hell. And he was being threatened. And it wasn't like they hadn't done it before... sort of.

Plus, Buffy wasn't his. Probably never would be his. And why was he so worried about Buffy finding out anyway?

"Right. Let's get out of here."

* * *

"I still think the two of them together?" Cordelia said to Wesley as she put the phone to her ear. "Bad idea. Angel Investigations, we help the help--"

"The two of who together?"

"Hello? ...Buffy? Is that y--"

"Yeah. Cordelia, hi. The two of who together?"

"Oh," Cordelia said, sitting down at her desk. "Spike and Faith, birds of a feather, hanging out together or whatever, I mean, churning waves of nausea aside, in what universe could that be a good thi... Hello?"

On the other end of the line, Buffy was packing a bag.

* * *

"Yeah, you got it baby," Faith said to the head between her thighs. "Right there."

He licked dutifully until she clamped her legs around his ears and arched into his mouth.

"Yeah," she cried out hoarsely as he swallowed a rush of her come.

Spike knew he should be ecstatic. He'd bedded two willing slayers, more or less, in the span of two weeks, and it wasn't even his birthday. But something kept nagging at him.

He sized up this dark slayer. She was sturdy, more voluptuous... than the other one.

Nag, thy name is Buffy.

"Whatchya waitin' for, cowboy?" Faith said, gasping. "Hop on."

Shaking his head to extract Buffy's image from his skull, he climbed up Faith's body and moved to kiss her.

She pushed him away with a sour look. "No more kissing. Just do me, alright?"

Spike obliged. At least, he tried to oblige.

He looked down.

Faith followed his gaze. "Oh, you gotta be fuckin' kidding me!" She shoved him to the floor.

"Love, I--"

"I can't believe this shit!"

"This never--"

"Oh, spare me! You're a fuckin' vampire, you'll fuck anything that moves -- and you can't get it up for me?"

"It's not you--"

"No, it's not me. It's Buffy. It's always fucking Buffy!"

Spike hung his head in shame.

"Get the fuck out of here." She threw his clothes at him. "NOW!"

"Honey, I'm home," Spike said with little enthusiasm.

In mid-pushup, Angel turned his head. "Where's Faith?"

"Where's my dinner, snookums?"

He said it slower this time: "Where is Faith?"

Spike turned his attention to his black polished fingernails. "We had a little, uh... disagreement."

Angel stood up. "What did you do?"

"What do you want from me? Got her out of here, didn't I? Stopped her from slicing up the help."

"Spike, Faith is a loose cannon. Any wrong moves and--"

"And what? Is the big bad Angelus afraid of the little lost lamb?"

Angel swiftly grabbed him by the neck. "Don't call me that."

"Let. Go of me," he spat.

Angel cast him aside.

"You know," Spike said as he fingered his twice-bruised neck, "I can still kill you, you righteous ponce."

Angel mentally counted to five. "Just tell me what happened."

"Mm." He casually lit a cigarette. "You'll never beat that out of me."

"The short version."

"She kicked me out of a hotel room," he said simply.

"Where?"

"Somewhere in Hollywood."

"The name of the hotel, Spike."

"Can't say I was paying much attention," he ground out.

"When did you leave her?"

"Couple hours ago."

Angel ran a hand through his hair, mulling over action plans.

"If it's any help, I don't think she'll be back here tonight," Spike reluctantly volunteered.

"Good."

Spike turned toward the stairs. "I'm gonna go get myself a little blo -- ffy!" His tone switched from boredom to pleasant surprise.

"Bluffy?" Angel repeated, and saw her standing in the stairway.

"Where is she?" Buffy demanded.

"Who?" the two vampires replied in unison.

"You know who."

"You mean Faith?" Angel said. "How did you--"

"Well, this is obviously between you two--"

She flung him backwards. "You're not going anywhere, Spike."

"Buffy, why are you--"

"Angel, I asked a simple question. Where is she?"

"She's not here," Angel said. "Why are you?"

Spike smirked. "Yeah. Why?"

"I heard that they... hooked up." She pointed at Spike.

"Wherever did you hear that, love?"

"Oh, cut the crap, Spike," she said.

"Buffy. I've got this under control," Angel said. "You should go back home."

"No, I shouldn't! Faith is my problem, not yours."

"My turf, my problem. I'm handling this, Buffy."

"Oh yeah? You're handling this so well you don't know where she is?"

"Much as I love a good lover's quarrel, I'll be--"

"Stay!" She held a palm to Spike's chest. He stayed.

"Buffy," Angel said. "This isn't about you."

"It is so about me!" She realized where her hand still rested and recoiled. "She's out to destroy me, Angel! She steals my body, attacks my mother, sleeps with my boyfriends, ruins my life, my reputation..."

"Your boyfriends?"

Buffy bristled. Did she use the plural? "When she stole my body, she... slept with Riley."

Angel looked from Buffy to Spike. "Riley?"

"Nice-lookin' bloke," Spike piped up, "if you like the pastyfaced bohunk type."

"He's not pastyfaced," she said, then turned to Angel. "But, yeah, he was my boyfriend."

"Oh," Angel processed. "But Faith never slept with me."

"Was?" Spike asked Buffy. "Trouble in paradise, pet?"

"Yes, thanks to--" Buffy caught herself. "Faith."

Angel narrowed his eyes at Buffy, then Spike. "Faith never slept with me."

Spike employed his most innocent expression. "What you lookin' at me for, mate?"

"Angel, you know what I mean!" Buffy intercepted his line of vision. "Slept with, fooled around with, whatever!"

"She fooled around with him too? The chit really got around that night."

"Not that night," Buffy said, glaring at Spike.

"She was in your body longer?" Spike asked.

"No... Oh, forget it! Why am I talking to you?"

"That's what I wanna know!" Spike said.

"No," Angel said. "That's what I want to know."

"Okay," Buffy said nervously. "Obviously this was a big mistake."

"Obviously," Spike agreed.

"What happened that night?"

"What night?" both Buffy and Spike asked.

"Two weeks ago."

"I don't know," Buffy said. "I wasn't there."

"Were you?" Angel asked Spike.

"What? What are you implying, exactly?"

"I'm not an idiot," Angel said. "I remember what Faith said today."

"What did Faith say today?" Buffy's eyes darted from boy to boy.

Angel confronted Buffy. "Why did you come here tonight?"

"What?"

"Why did you come here? For Faith? Or for him?" He didn't bother to point.

"What?"

"Why did you send Spike to me?"

"Wh... what?"

"Look," Spike said. "You can stop gettin' your knickers in a twist, mate. Nothing happened between me and the Slayer, if that's what you're gettin' at. Not this slayer, at least."

Buffy stifled the unbidden bolt of jealousy that shot through her.

"Why don't I believe you?" Angel asked.

"Will you tell him that I'm telling the truth, Buffy?" Spike pleaded.

"He is... telling the truth," Buffy said. "Sort of."

Spike turned to her, threw his hands up and bellowed, "Oh, great! The merits of having a bloody conscience, proved yet again! Wish I had one of those!"

"Spike, I can't lie to Angel."

"What makes him so special? You lied to your bloody soldiertoy, didn't you?"

"Angel," Buffy explained, "Faith had sex with Spike when she was in my body. I had nothing to do with it."

Angel sneered and went for Spike.

"Great, thanks, love!"

Buffy jumped between them. "It wasn't his fault either, Angel! Faith threw herself at him! God! Why am I the only one who blames Faith?"

Angel clenched his jaw, and his fists. "Get out."

Buffy and Spike looked at him.

"Both of you. Get. Out."

"Angel?"

"Get out! NOW!"

"Second time I heard that tonight," Spike said, turning on his heel.

Stunned, Buffy searched Angel's expression. "Angel--"

"You heard me." Afraid of what he might do, he braced his hands on the dining table.

"But I--"

"I'm not gonna say it again," Angel said evenly.

"It's not what you--"

"Buffy!" Staring at the table, he said, "I can't even look at you right now."

Her face fell.

"Goodbye, Angel."

She walked out, feeling numb all over.

Spike was waiting outside.

"Nice work, love," he said, exhaling a stream of smoke. "Now I'm starved and I'm homeless."

"Fuck off, Spike," Buffy said softly, walking past him.

"Ooh, learning dirty words from your evil twin?" He followed her.

She turned to him. "Can you tell me what just happened in there?"

"Yeah. You went and ran your gob and now we're both in trouble with Daddy."

A tear slid down Buffy's cheek. "I hate you."

"Hey, don't blame me for botching up your bloody Harlequin Everlasting novel--"

"What did you do with Faith tonight?"

That, he didn't expect. "Is that all you came here for? You could've called and asked me just the same."

"Shut up! What did you do?"

"Nothing!"

"Don't lie to me."

When he saw her eyes filling with fresh tears, he buckled. "Well, almost nothing." He added quickly, "I did my bloody best to be good -- for you! To whisk that nutter away from here, stop her from eviscerating your chums!"

"And?"

"And in the process we may have... done a thing or two."

She waited for elaboration.

"Oh, come on, Buffy, don't make me say it."

"You had sex with her." And that was officially that. "Whatever. I get it."

"No! Look, if you must know, I kept hearing your annoying little..." He breathed in, started over. "I couldn't do it."

She frowned in confusion as she wiped her tears with her sleeve.

"Oh, what, you want me to spell it out? Fine! You've made me bloody impotent for anyone other than you! Happy now?"

After a moment, Buffy began to shake... with laughter.

"Guess you are," Spike surmised as her husky guffaw echoed through the empty street. "I'll never get to shag anyone again, and you're laughing."

"Oh," she said, recovering. "No. I'm sorry. How did she handle that?"

"Threw me out straight away. Much like your buggery ex just did."

Buffy stopped laughing.

"Not so funny anymore, is it?"

"Spike," she said with a sigh, "why'd you have to come into my life and screw everything up?"

"Strike that," he said. "Reverse it."

They walked down the sidewalk past a row of parked cars on the otherwise deserted street. "I guess cabs don't frequent the monster district. We better figure out how to get home."

"To Sunnyhell? What about the boys in green?"

"Fuck 'em."

Yeah, he wasn't afraid of them either.

"I took the last bus of the night... We'll have to camp out at the station."

"I got a better idea." He hopped into a classic convertible and gunned the engine. "Get in, kitten."

Hands on her hips, she said, "Spike, where did you get those keys?"

"It's a secret," he said with mischievous glee.

"We are not stealing Angel's car!" She snatched the keys and tossed them under the seat, then opened the driver's side door. "Out."

"Party pooper," he groused, emerging from the car. "Should have stuck with the other one."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing."

"Oh, that was definitely not noth--"

"Well, lookie here," a gruff voice said behind them. "Fresh blood."

The two turned.

A gang of vampires.

Buffy and Spike shared a look.

"What are you smiling at, pendejo?" the leader said, puffing out his chest. "You're about to die."

"If that's what you think," Spike said, strolling up to him, "you're in for the shock of your unlife."

"Boy howdy," Buffy concurred.

Keeping Spike in his sights, the leader asided to his cronies, "Grab the girl. Save her for me."

"Well said." The sprog couldn't have been more than a few years old and here he was, posturing like some kind of... him.

"No, please don't hurt me!" Buffy overacted as two lackeys nabbed her from either side. "I'm just a weak, defenseless co-ed from the suburbs!"

"Adorable, isn't she?" Spike said to the leader. "Sometimes I could just eat her up."

The vamp grabbed him by the collar, clearly not getting the hint. "I'm gonna suck you dry."

"But we've only just met," Spike replied lasciviously.

"You're a little hottie," one of Buffy's captors told her, holding her face toward him. "Hope he changes you."

"Hope he changes your diapers first," she said, nose awrinkle. "You reek."

The vamps looked at each other, astonished. "What the fuck did you just say to me, bitch?"

"Even dead people can maintain good hygiene. Look at Spike!"

"Spike?" they said in unison.

"Grrrghgh!"

The gangleader was on his knees, held in a death-grip by William the Bloody, demon face on.

"What kind of vampire," Spike said conversationally, "can't even spot his own kind?"

"But you--" the leader croaked fearfully. "But she's not--"

"And what kind of vampire," Spike said as he held him up to face Buffy, "can't tell a slayer when he sees one?"

"A... a slayer?"

Spike pulled a stake out of his pocket and jammed it through the leader's back. Reciting a silent prayer, he exploded into dust.

"Hey!" Buffy shot her feet upward, hitting both captors in the face, then staked them in succession. By the time they disintegrated, the others had scurried away.

She turned to Spike. "Dumbass."

"Now what's your problem?"

She pointed to the dust at his feet. "He was mine. I was saving him for last!"

"Oh sorry, love, guess I couldn't hear your instructions over all the not communicating you were doing!" He squinted at her. "I know what this is. You're jealous that I got the big slay. Did little Buffy never learn to share?"

"There's a method. Everyone knows there's a method--"

"Or maybe it's just that you're an enormous control freak."

"--little bads first, big bads last!"

"That's the stupidest method I ever heard! He could've gotten away -- or worse, killed you!"

"You think I'm an amateur, Spike? I'm the Slayer!"

"Yeah, no kidding." He got in her face. "You're the reason I got this soddin' chip in my head!"

"No, you're the reason you got that chip in your head!" She stepped closer. "If you had just left me alone like any normal, slayer-fearing vampire would--"

He breathed in. "That's it."

Having reached his limit, Spike took her by the shoulders, rammed her against the nearest vertical surface, and smashed his lips to hers.

She cried out in protest... at first. But when it became clear that he wasn't going to stop, her cries turned into yearning little mewls that made him rock hard.

Then she wrapped her fingers around his head and slipped her tongue into his mouth.

"Spike," she gasped, when he moved to kiss her neck.

"Buffy."

"Oh god," she said.

"Oh Buffy," he said, tasting every bit of salty skin he had access to, running his hands over every curve he could reach.

"I want you," she found herself saying.

Spike growled into her skin in response.

Pinned against the wall, she wrapped her legs around him as he ground into her.

"Need you," Spike said as her moist heat burned him through two sets of jeans. Before he could think, he'd unbuttoned her fly and pushed his hand inside.

He couldn't believe how wet she was for him.

She moaned into his mouth, and went for his buckle. Soon her warm little hand was pumping his rigid cock.

"Naughty," he whispered. "Gonna make me come like that."

He moved her hand and tried his best to maneuver into her.

"Not the best place," she managed.

Spike remembered where he was.

"Right." He picked her up, took a few steps and sat her on the trunk end of the nearest car.

"I was thinking hotel..."

Spike shook his head. "Can't wait."

Seeing that her jeans would prevent the face-to-face position, Spike spun her around and pulled her ass toward him.

After a lusty caress, he yanked her jeans and panties down, took hold of his cock, and brushed the tip against her slick opening.

She pushed back, and was filled completely.

Spike fell forward onto her back, elated, amazed. The real Buffy. The one he truly wanted. At last.

Buffy shut her eyes, held onto the car's tailfins and stopped thinking about how very wrong this all was. It was that possessive hand on her hip, the one giving her chills, that made her forget.

Her shirt rode up as his free hand roamed beneath it. Buffy moaned and shivered. She marveled that everything he was doing was exactly what turned her on the most. Could he read what she liked, or were they just made for each other? And did she just think that?

Spike grunted and growled in her ear.

The vampire and the slayer undulated in rhythm, gaining pace and friction, groaning each time their bodies smacked together.

It was too much, too hot, too good for him to stand.

"Buffy," he cried, and came into her.

With that last claiming thrust, something sharp cut into her areola. She hissed in pain.

After he'd shuddered for the last time, she pushed him out and turned, sitting on the trunk.

"But love, what about..." he saw what she was tending to, "you."

She inspected the little slice on her breast. When she touched it, fresh blood surfaced.

"You're bleeding."

"It's just a scratch. I'll be okay."

Spike shook away his emerging demon. Down boy, he told himself. Fuck now, eat later.

A few strands of blonde hair fell sensually over Buffy's face. "I'm not done with you yet," she said, and drew his mouth to hers.

"Hope not," he said, and climbed up the car.

Buffy took his hand and guided it into her soft folds. He slid one finger in, then two, and gently rubbed her clit with his thumb.

She clamped her legs shut around his arm and sighed.

"So wet," he said between kisses. "So bloody perfect."

He kissed down her neck, to one nipple, to the... other...

A searing metallic flavor hit his tongue.

Blood.

He licked it again. And again. As his hands continued to pump inside her, as she bucked and wriggled and moaned at his touch, he began to suck.

Buffy's blood.

Her fingers curled around the nape of his neck.

"Spike," she said hoarsely.

He hoped she wouldn't tell him to stop... because he couldn't.

She didn't. On the contrary, she pushed his head down, signaling to suck harder. Then he felt her muscles tighten around his fingers as she cried out into the quiet night.

Buffy whimpered as she recovered for a moment. Then she looked down at him, still sucking hungrily at her breast.

"Hey. Spike." He didn't respond, so she said, "Ow."

Suddenly, he shouted in pain and jumped off of her, holding his head.

She giggled.

"Hey! S'not funny!"

"C'mon, Chip Boy. Let's get out of here."

Buffy stood up and rearranged her clothes, then realized upon whose car she had just fucked and fed her mortal enemy.

"Oh my God!" she yelped, jumping as far away from Angel's Plymouth as she could.

"What?"

"Spike! You couldn't have picked another car?"

"After you, love."

Buffy looked at Spike askance. "How long 'til the weird chivalry wears off?"

"After what you let me do tonight," he said as he followed her into the motel room, "I'm thinking never. So get used to it, pet."

"I'm gonna take a shower."

He touched her hips and sniffed her neck. "Want some company?"

"Somehow I don't think cleanliness would occur that way," she said with a wan smile. "I'll be out in a minute."

"Alright then. I'll see what's on the telly." He shed his coat and jumped on the bed, then found the remote.

"Ooh," he said. "Next Gen."

* * *

"Love, come out here! Scotty just went into the old Enterprise bridge! It's bloody brilliant!"

He muted the television.

"Buffy?"

Then he heard a sob.

He jumped up and opened the bathroom door. "Love?"

Buffy was sitting on the closed toilet seat, crying into her knees.

He approached cautiously and sighed. "That bad, 'ey?"

A giggle shot through her tears. "No. You were great," she said, still surprised at how very good the sex was.

"Then what is it?"

"Oh, nothing," she sniffed. "Just my entire life."

Spike knelt in front of Buffy and moved the wet hair from her eyes.

"My deranged doppelganger is on the loose, some cyborg Frankenstein is terrorizing Sunnydale, I lost any chance of having a normal relationship with a fairly normal guy, I'm sleeping with the enemy..."

"Sounds like your average day at the office. Anything else?"

"Angel hates me," she said, muffling a sob.

"Angel loves you," he corrected, as much as it annoyed him to speak that truth.

"He'll never look at me the same way again."

"Why should he? You've changed. And for the better, I might add."

"Why, because I'm with you now?"

He squinted at her. "You're with me now?"

"No! Yes. Well... whatever this is."

He shook his head. "You're growing up, love. Living and learning. They're called growing pains for a reason."

"Says the vampire who'll be thirty forever."

"Hey! Twenty-eight! I was twenty-eight! Do I look thirty?"

"Spike, please, you're gorgeous and you'll never get any older and I will... if I live long enough. That's not the point."

"I know, but--" He squinted at her again. "You think I'm gorgeous?"

"Spike, I can't fall in love with you!"

"Wh--" Spike sputtered. She was falling for him! ...As well she should! "Why not?"

"Because you're a demon."

"Stranger things have happened, Buffy! You're a slayer! It's a bleedin' occupational hazard! Ask your Council of Wankers, they'll tell you the same -- prob'ly have some disability plan for it."

"You see what I mean? You're insane. This is insane."

He took her hands in his. "So, let's be insane together."

"Spike, I can't."

He moved to kiss a tear on her cheek.

"I don't think we should--"

Spike whispered in her ear, "Don't think."

Their mouths fused in desperate passion.

He took her in his arms and carried her to the bedroom.

* * *

As Buffy watched Spike doze off, face mashed against the pillow, she reached out to smooth the tousled white-blonde hair above his ear.

He caught her hand and said sleepily, "Demon lover."

Buffy smiled and shook her head. "You're such an ass."

"Mm," he said. "Ass." He turned her around to spoon against her naked back, murmured "Love you," and fell asleep, lulled by the ambrosial scent of her neck.

Suddenly, a low purr emanated from his throat and his body vibrated against hers.

Buffy chuckled softly. Learn something new about vampires every day. Petting the arm wrapped around her waist, she whispered, "Nice kitty."

She relaxed into him and let her heavy eyelids close.

I'm just not meant to have a normal life, it occured to her. After years of struggling against her nature, Buffy finally decided to give in.

To her surprise, it felt good.

So good that a strange feeling she couldn't identify had made itself at home in her gut, warming her to the bone.

Buffy was happy.









THE END