Buffy was being baked alive.

...At least it felt that way.

On what happened to be the hottest night in Sunnydale's history, a rolling black-out was in effect. Which roughly translated to No a/c, no electric fan, no relief.

Fitting luck for a town built over a Hellmouth.

Her throat constricting in the thick, ovenish air, she languidly pictured the next day's headline: "Slayer, Victorious Over Evil Hell-God, Dies In Sweltering Heat."

She closed her eyes and wished for sleep. Or death. Whichever came first.

"Buffy?" A male voice.

Eyes fluttered open. "Riley?"

"No, it's me, love." A face materialized from the shadows. Spike.

Oh right, she remembered. He was staying over again tonight, helping Dawn recover from The Ordeal while big sis got some much-needed rest.

She was grateful. But now he was in her room, and that was never good.

He approached the bed.

Now was a good time to tell him to leave, but she found herself unable to form words.

"Buffy," he said softly. "Dawn's asleep. Just wanted to check that you're alright." He reached down to caress her shoulder.

"Cold!" Her hand captured his, guiding it to her face -- his vampiric chill a welcome relief from the stifling heat.

"Apparently... not," Spike surmised in answer to his query. After all, Buffy was nuzzling against him, her once mortal enemy. He chuckled. "The heat's makin' you delirious, pet."

Mindlessly, she led his hand down her neck, under the thin, sweat-soaked cotton sheet and along her chest, over her belly and across her thighs. "Not that I mind," he added, suddenly short of breath.

"Please," Buffy whimpered. It was so hot where he wasn't. So hot.

Mercifully, Spike knew what she needed. "Don't worry baby, Daddy's got your cure."

He began to undress.

Buffy's logic screamed that this was not okay, but all too soon he was naked, and Logic was suddenly at a loss for words.

Relief was immediate as his cool body covered hers. More childish urgings escaped from her lips unchecked: "Mmmm... So cold! So mmmm... Spike, don't go away, 'kay?"

"I won't ever leave you, baby," Spike reassured her. "I'll stay here forever if I have to." His hands slid over her body, across her burning limbs. "My hot little fireball."

My living ice pack, she thought dizzily. She wrapped her arms around him and tangled her fingers in his hair. "Mmmm..."

Spike growled low in his throat, directly into Buffy's ear. White-hot shivers shot down her body, lingering at her sex.

Wait... Some far away voice told her this was not a good reaction.

Softly, he began to kiss her -- first her neck, then her cheek, her forehead, her neck again, her chin.

Buffy gave in to the sensations. When she opened her eyes, they were level with his.

"Spike." The urgency in her voice surprised them both.

And suddenly, their mouths were fused in the hottest, iciest kiss she'd ever tasted. I was a kid with Angel, her mind pictures told her. I'm a woman now.

Aching with longing, she yanked away the sheet that separated them. "Kiss me all over."

He gazed at her body for a beat, and quickly obliged. Kissing the swell of her breasts first, he teased a hardening nipple until she squealed, licked down her belly, and stopped at her thighs. Kneeling on the floor, Spike waited, unsure of how far he was allowed to go.

Buffy hooked her leg over his shoulder and pulled him slightly forward. There was no mistaking the invitation. Clearly, the cooling action wasn't all she needed from Spike.

He hesitated for a moment, then began to tickle her inner thighs with his soft icy lips, moving slowly closer to her swollen center.

She groaned, attempting to grab his head and force his tongue on her clit.

"Ah ah ah..." he said, continuing his maddening teasing.

The bastard's waiting for me to beg for it! she thought with a brief return of her trademark indignance. Who the hell does he think he...

"Spike! Please!" She bucked forward. She could see her own slick wetness glistening in the moonlight. Can't he see that I'm dying?

She saw his face break into a wide, self-satisfied smile.

Bastard.

Before she had to beg again, he'd dipped his head and was feasting on her hungrily. That's more like ...yes...

She felt his fangs elongate. Spike jerked his head up, trying to reel the monster back in. Buffy snorted in amusement.

"Sorry, love," he said, looking slightly shamed.

She shrugged and pushed his head back down.

"Knew I loved you for a reason," he said before he continued, careful not to bite.

When she felt a powerful orgasm coming on, she grabbed him by the hair and tugged him upwards.
She wanted all of him.

As he mounted her, Buffy pulled him close for a kiss, tasting her lemony juices on his lips. His human face was back. She consciously noted for the first time how much she liked it.

As they locked eyes, something strange; something other than lust came over her. But before she could figure out what it was, Spike thrust into her, burying his cock to the hilt. Buffy cried out in surprise.

Looks of shock and pleasure dueled on his face. "So hot..."

"Cold," she whispered with a smile.

"So... bloody... tight..."

She breathlessly repeated one word -- "Yes" -- as they moved in rhythm, each thrust harder and faster than the one before it.

She felt a sting on her lip and tasted blood: he'd started to vamp out again. "Slayer, oh Hell," Spike exalted. "Bloody... Hell!" His eyes tinged yellow. Human snarls were replaced by a pantheric growl.

Buffy gasped for air as she watched him change. Losing the last bastion of control, she bared her neck and yanked him down. "Just stop when I tell you," she managed to sputter.

He bit down into her soft, buttery flesh and drank.

In her mind, door after door after door swung open, corridors and doors into space, into nothingness, into oblivion.

Overcome by intense, undulating torrents of release, she wailed his name.

* * *

Buffy awoke, naked and sweating, her fingernails digging into her neck, sheets bunched between her thighs and her own come pooling beneath her.

The first thing she noticed was the chill in the room -- of course, the power had gone back on, and the central air had kicked in. And that's why she'd --

She sat up, the dream before her in all its Technicolor detail. A sex dream.

A dream of sex.

Starring her ...and Spike.

She felt her inner muscles clench and release.

"Oh," she said shakily, riding out the last exquisite wave of her very first multiple orgasm.

Suddenly, the door to her room flew open. Spike, fully dressed, stood there panting. "What's wrong?"

She stared at him aghast, paralyzed with... embarrassment? Or was it lust? Her voice cracked a hoarse "Huh?"

He looked around the room, bewildered. "You yelled my name not two seconds ago. Sounded panicked. I was downstairs, and..." He focused on her moonlit form and his body language loosened. "You're naked."

She looked down at her bare breasts and jerked the sheet up. Her mind tried to work frantically. "I had a dream."

He moved towards her, sensing something... interesting. "What kind of dream, exactly?"

"No kind!" she cried. "No kind of dream. A bad, bad--"

He came closer.

"Just-- Don't..." She held up her hand, Supremes-style. "Go!"

His nostrils flared. There was a fascinating blend of fluids on that hand. "Go? ...Or don't go?"

Buffy took a deep breath, gathering her wits and her resolve. "Go. Please go."

The room was heavy with her arousal. The last thing he wanted to do was leave. "You sure?"

"Spike!" Her voice cracked again.

He chuckled softly. "Alright, Slayer. But you better tell me all about this dream in the morning."

Lifting a brow, he added, "Smells like fun."

She gasped as his lascivious meaning hit her.

Grabbing the closest stuffed animal, she chucked it at his retreating form. "Damn vampires!"

He laughed heartily out the door.

Buffy blinked, surprised at herself. Spike knew exactly what kind of dream she'd had and had the nerve to say so. She should have been mortified, or at least angry. But all she really felt was a strange, womanly satisfaction.

Maybe it was the multiple orgasm.

Buffy smiled. A new headline flashed in her mind: "Slayer, Victorious Over Evil Hell-God, Lets Soulless Vampire Fuck Her to Death."

With feline contentment, she curled up and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.




More to come... and come...

"Sleep well, Slayer?"

She'd managed to avoid him all day. Now, surrounded by her friends in the magic shop, Buffy had nowhere to run. She should have known that as soon as Spike sauntered in he'd taunt her with an infuriating grin and a question so seemingly benign.

She glared at the vampire, ground out a "Fine," and dared him with her eyes.

"Good, 'cause I know I did."

"I couldn't sleep at all last night," said Anya. "It was uncomfortably hot."

"Vampires don't sleep at night," Tara said. "A-and come to think of it, they don't even get hot. Right, Spike?"

Buffy's face burned as she remembered the dream.

"Oh, we get hot." His eyes wouldn't leave the blushing slayer.

"Oh. I thought--"

"Had a great dream," Spike declared with a big smirk, sitting back and resting his heels on the table. "How 'bout you, Buffy? Have any good dreams lately?"

"No, just a great, big nightmare."

Giles took the pause as an opportunity. "Now that we've clarified whether Buffy had a pleasant repose, could we please move on?"

* * *

"God! Would you stop looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" Spike laughed as he fielded a swift left hook.

"Like a big--" right jab "peroxided--" roundhouse kick "pervert!"

"Pervert?" He'd caught her foot in mid-air. "I'm not the one who had the wet dream about me." With a nasty smile, he used her shock to throw her off balance.

She shot back up, kicking him in earnest. He hit the mat with a smack.

Her voice dropped to a venomous whisper. "Don't you ever say that out loud again."

"What?" Spike asked, then bellowed from his place on the floor, "That you had a hot, wet--"

Buffy jumped on him and tried to cover his mouth.

"--somehow bloody--" He attempted to pull the choker off her neck.

She had to hold his hands down. There was no way she was going to let him see the nail-inflicted crescents she was hiding.

"--obviously mind-blowing--" She tried his mouth again. He licked her hand. "--dream about snogging me into the bl--"

"That's it!" she popped him in the nose.

"Ow!"

She hissed, "Shut up before I really kill you."

"It's alright to want me, pet. Why are you resisting?"

"I don't want you!" She jumped off of him and walked away. "That's not what it meant. It was a dream. It was symbolic."

He propped himself up. "And I symbolized... what? A terrific lay?"

"No... an arrogant vampire who can't keep his mouth shut." She folded her arms and said, sarcastic, "Oh wait, that's literal."

"All right, tell me." He stood and tried a more gentle approach. "What's it mean then?"

She turned away from him again. "I haven't figured that out yet. Can we not have this conversation?"

"Why don't you give me a blow--" she whipped around to face him and he threw his arms up in defense, "--by blow. Tell me what happened in the dream, I'll tell you if it's symbolic or not."

"Oh goodie, more fuel for the make-Buffy-miserable fire!"

"I'm not trying to make you--"

"Look, don't think you're special, okay? I was hot," she found herself saying, regretting it instantly. "And you happened to be the only vampire in the house."

He didn't get it immediately. "What?"

She grabbed his hand and brought it to her face. "Me hot." Then to his chest. "You cold. End of story."

Spike marveled at the beauty of it. So simple, yet so rife with implication. "You--"

"End of story, Spike."

His eyes lowered and lingered at her neck. "And the blood?"

Buffy exhaled heavily. He obviously wouldn't leave it alone until he heard the truth. Barely audible, she answered, "At the end, I let you drink from me."

Spike was speechless. She couldn't have uttered a more perfect sentence.

"I was delirious from the heat." Realizing that her hand was still resting on his chest, she quickly pulled away. "And I still must be, 'cause I'm standing here telling you this."

"Er, Buffy?" Giles' voice at the door.

"Nothing!" Buffy sputtered defensively, jumping halfway across the room.

Giles looked confused. "Er, yes. Well unfortunately, there is something."

"What is it?"

"I'm afraid there may be some significance to this heat wave after all."

"I shoulda known," Buffy sighed in resignation, following Giles out of the training room. "No rest for the wicked."

Spike just stood there, dumbstruck.

Slowly, a smile spread across his features.

"You said it, sweet bit."

* * *

"It appears that the heat wave is restricted solely to Sunnydale," Giles announced, newspaper in hand. "What's more, there's an unwarranted amount of humidity, unrelated to smog."

"And that means...?" Buffy asked.

"Demons," Anya said nonchalantly, tallying up the day's sales.

"Heat wave demons?"

"Do they look anything like Gladys Knight and the Pips?" Xander's joke was greeted by blank stares. "You know," he said, and half-sang, "'Heat wave... burnin' in my...?'" He trailed off.

Spike sauntered into the room and perched on the ladder, his eyes fixed squarely on his Slayer.

"I believe you're thinking of Martha and the Vandellas, Xander, and, no." Giles cleared his throat. "But there are several varieties of demons with the power to change the weather; some are quite harmless. Some are... not. And until they present themselves as any sort of threat, we should all just keep an eye out."

"Tara and I can do a demonic activity spell," Willow offered, giving her girlfriend's hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Is that the one where you teach 'em to fingerpaint?" Xander said, bouncing right back. "'Cause gosh darnit, there just aren't enough fingerpainting demons in the world."

"Activity as in evil energy," Willow explained with a smile. "Anyway, it might tell us what kind of heatwavey demons we're dealin' with."

"Yes, that'll be quite helpful. And suffice it to say, Buffy--"

"Got it. Off to patrol." She got up to gather her things. "Dawn? Will you be okay here for a while?"

"Sure, I'll hang with the gang. Do some researchy stuff."

"Good." Buffy noticed a certain vampire following her. "Spike, what are you doing?"

"What's it look like? I'm going with you."

Buffy thought to argue, then saw everyone watching. She sighed. "Come on."

As soon as he closed the jingling door behind them, she turned to face him.

"Look. I think you should just go home."

"Why?"

"I just... do."

"Just do? Good one. That'll keep me away."

She sighed in exasperation. "I can't just go slaying with you after we've..." her voice lowered to a whisper, "talked about what we talked about."

He smiled, charmed by her bashfulness, but unable to resist the alternative. "You mean you don't trust yourself to be alone with me. Afraid you'll jump my hide and make me drink from you."

"No," she said through grit teeth, "I'm more afraid you'll say something like that again and I'll have to kill you."

"I'm--"

"An ass?"

"Buffy," he laughed, "I'm sorry. Won't mention it again, I promise."

"Why don't we just split up. See what we can find out."

"I said I--"

"Spike! We'll get more accomplished that way." She looked at him pleadingly. "Please?"

He gave in with a sigh and plucked the Marlboro Menthol from his ear. "Alright then. S'pose I'll go check with Willy, see what's doing in the demon arena."

"Great. Thanks."

"Sure thing, kitten." As he inhaled the minty smoke, he watched her hips switch away from him.

Fighting the urge to follow her into the woods, Spike took off towards the seedy side of town.

* * *

It was getting late and the heat was getting to Buffy.

So far, it appeared the demons had no interest in cemeteries, woods or parking lots. Only two vamps had surfaced, with no information to share and even less fighting skill.

She wondered whether Spike had discovered anything yet. With that idle thought came other more interesting Spike-related musings...

Bad, bad thoughts, Buffy, she scolded herself. Work to do. Monsters to slay.

She rounded the corner to the Sunnydale elementary school playground, casting a glance over the perimeter.

Something seemed off.

Suddenly, the air around her was tangibly thicker and harder to see through. She felt close to suffocating, until for some inexplicable reason she felt... fully aroused.

"Whoa," she reeled as slippery fluid saturated her underwear.

Her body tingled with lust. Her clothing felt too tight, too restrictive. She wanted to peel it all off. What the hell is going on?

She sat down on the nearest swing to regain her composure.

There's a word for this kind of heat, it occurred to her. Sultry.

And suddenly, the ugliest demon she'd ever seen appeared. It towered at over seven feet tall and was covered in horns and slimy pustules.

"And you must be one of the Pips," she said, standing, trying to push away the lusty feelings that definitely shouldn't be felt around a revolting hellspawn. "Or Martha or whatever."

She couldn't tell, but it seemed to smile. It also spoke, but not a language or even a sound pattern that she could understand. The only way it could be described was... gurgly.

"Well, now that we've been introduced--" She went for him. A punch to the stomach that... made no impression at all. He still stood there.

And she could tell it was a he, because suddenly something was growing. Something from his midsection. A huge, grotesque, horn-shaped phallus that was aiming right at her.

"I see," she said, backing up, "You're not just a horny demon... you're a horny demon."

She marveled at her still-aroused state. Am I completely sick? she asked herself. Then it hit her. The fog. The heat. It was getting her... ready. For him. For it. Eww!!!

"What is it about me?" she wondered aloud. "Do I have 'Demon Whore' stamped on my forehead?"

Buffy turned to run, but the demon caught up with her and slapped her down against the old merry-go-round. He was strong. And the lust-heat was weakening her.

He was coming ever closer with that godawful thing pointing at her, and she didn't know if she could fend him off because her body was reacting in all the wrong ways.

"Need help, or should I leave you two alone?"

Buffy had never been so happy to hear that voice. "Spike!"

The demon turned to eyeball Spike.

"That's no way to treat a lady," Spike gruffed, and descended a razor-sharp axe across the thing's phallus, slicing it clear off.

The demon gurgled and fell to the ground, its midsection spewing green goop.

Buffy rolled away to avoid the spray. "Ugh!"

Spike took her hand and pulled until she was pressed snugly against him.

"Thanks," she said breathlessly. "And also... gross choice of dismemberment."

He smiled. "That's the only way to kill it."

"Oh. You know what he is?" She was fidgeting, her hands dancing on his chest.

"No, but I heard about a demon girl got attacked -- raped -- by one of those buggers. Nearly tore her apart. Her boyfriend tried chopping off its head, but it just kept goin'. Only way was..." he motioned a slice with his free hand, the one that wasn't snaked around Buffy's waist.

"Yuck. All around yuck." She continued to shift from one leg to the other, her hands getting more intimate.

"You... You alright?" he asked, noticing the glazed look in her eye and the finger brushing over his nipple.

"Mmhmm. Just... weird, I guess. And..."

"And?"

"Well, there's this thing. I think the heat is um, getting to me."

"Getting to you... how?" He also noticed her pelvis gyrating against his.

"The heat -- has some kind of aphrodisiac in it, I think." She was gazing at his mouth.

"I see..." No wonder he could smell her from a mile away this time.

She touched a finger to his bottom lip.

Spike made up his mind. "Okay, Slayer, we're gonna get you home," he said, removing her hand.

"What? Home? Why?"

"Not gonna take advantage of you like this, though believe me, I'd love to."

"Advantage? What advantage? I'm the Slayer--"

"Yeah, you are. And tomorrow morning you'll shove a pointy piece of wood into my chest like a slayer's sposed to. So, come on. Let's get you to bed."

"To bed?" She smiled coquettishly.

"To sleep," he stressed.

"I don't wanna go to sleep," she whimpered. "I'm all hot and... wet. You wanna feel?" She grabbed his hand.

Spike inhaled sharply. "Yes..." Then he pulled away. "But I'm not going to."

She stomped her foot like an angry child. "When did you suddenly grow a conscience?"

"When I fell in love with you," he answered without thinking twice.

Her anger melted. She had nothing to say.

"Come on, Slayer," he said, scooping her into his arms. "Let's get you home."

She surrendered to him and nuzzled into his chest.

"Spike?"

"Yeah, pet?"

"I like it when you're nice."

"Yeah," he said, trying not to focus on the yielding, aromatic body in his arms. "I know."

Spike let out a feral growl. Nice, she said.

Bloody conscience.





More to come...

"Bloody, buggery conscience!" Spike kicked the tub, then hopped around from the pain.

He sighed and looked in the mirror, seeing the framed painting that hung behind him. Not supposed to have one of those.

"There's a writhing, hot little slayer in the next room, and what are you doin', mate?" he asked himself, bracing his hands on the sink. "Wankin' off in the bloody bathroom."

He fastened his belt buckle and walked out into the hallway. "Dawn! Christ, you scared me."

She smiled, hand on hip. "Isn't it supposed to be the other way around?"

"Used to be." He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. "When did you get in?"

"Just now. Giles dropped me off. I heard you yelling, so I figured you guys were here."

You guys. The phrase made him smile. "We are."

"Buffy's in her room?"

"Yeah." She started in that direction. "But, uh -- wouldn't go in there."

"Why?"

"We had a run-in with a nasty demon. He got her with some sort of... mist. Makin' her act all daft. Might be contagious; don't want you to get anything."

"Is she okay?"

"Spi-ike? Where are you?" They heard from the bedroom. "I need you!"

"Coming, Buffy." Spike shifted uncomfortably. "Looks like she needs something."

"Uh-huh," Dawn said, arching an eyebrow.

"Go on and turn on the telly, I'll be down in a bit."

"Okay."

He watched her go down the stairs.

Spike took a deep breath and opened the bedroom door.

Buffy was still naked, sprawled across her comforter. "Spike!"

"Buffy," he sighed, locking the door behind him.

"C'mere."

"No."

"C'mon."

"No, Slayer. I won't." He flipped the desk chair around and sat down.

"'Slayer,'" she repeated with disdain. "You don't call me that anymore unlessssss... you're mad at me. Are you mad at me?"

"Far from it."

"Don't you love me?"

"Yes."

"So, what's the problem?" She grabbed a pillow and held it between her legs, turning on the bed. Exposing that marvelous peach of an ass. "Mmmm..."

He inhaled sharply as he watched her hump the pillow. "Where do I begin."

She shot up and faced him. "Spike, I've gotta come. I'm serious. You have to help me."

He smiled. Maybe he could just... Another sigh. Gotta be strong. "Help yourself."

She pouted. "If you're not gonna help me--" She made for the window.

"Slayer!" He got up and threw her back on the bed. "Do I have to tie you up?"

She smiled and moved like a cat, her ass in the air. "Betchya wanna."

God, he loved this girl. He shook his head. "That's not the point."

She rolled onto her back and held her hands between her legs. "Spike, help me."

His hard-on was raging yet again, thanks to the new spread-eagle view he was being treated to. He swallowed and asked softly, "Do you have anything?"

"Anything?"

"You know... a vibrator... something like that?"

"Ew!"

"Not ew... a lot of women use 'em. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

She sighed petulantly. "Under the bed."

He smiled and ducked under the bed.

"I never use it though."

"Uh-huh." He found a shoe box.

"Serious! Cordelia made me buy it a long time ago."

There it was, a shiny silver bullet of a thing. He twisted the bottom column. Fresh batteries. Never use it, huh? "Here." He pulled back the covers. "Get under. Have fun. I'll be over here."

"You're not gonna do it for me?"

"No."

"I really hate you." She got under the covers.

"I know."

"Well, if you want me to do this you'll have to leave me alone."

"Don't get dainty on me now, Slayer. Can't chance you escaping and taking this out on some poor unsuspecting. I'm staying 'til you're done."

He heard a low buzz. His dick strained against his jeans and he silently cursed the demon that was doing this to them.

"Say something."

He looked up. "What?"

"Talk to me."

He was at a loss. She wanted him to talk dirty? Was that the same as taking advantage of her? Damn these gray areas... "What do you want me to say?"

"Tell me about... the first time you saw me."

His breath caught. She-devil, you are. "Alright," he said cautiously, then began the story, "First time I saw you... I wanted to kill you."

"Go on."

But not before fucking you into oblivion, he added to himself. "My first time at the Bronze. I went there looking for you. They'd given me a description -- blonde, hot, 'bout seventeen. There were a lot of girls in there that fit the bill, but only one that moved like a slayer."

"Mm hmmh..."

"Found you dancing with your little friends. You were breathtaking. So alive, like a fiery ray of--"

He heard the thing shut off. "Cut the poetry, Spike."

Bossy bitch. "Just to make sure it was you, I sent a minion out for something to eat," he remembered, as he heard the buzz come back. "I got up close to you and shouted there was some big guy outside tryin' to bite someone. You went running, I knew it was you."

She was moving under the covers. How he wished he could be under there, truly invited.

He continued. "I followed you out there. Watched from the shadows to get an idea of how you fought. Quick on your feet and a wit to match -- I was impressed." He smiled. "Poor guy, thought he was gonna be the next big bad in town. You took him down in a heartbeat."

"Do you remember what happened next? I clapped, and you saw me for the first time. You were still hot from the fight, yeah, you were ready to take me on. You asked me who I was. I said something like, 'You'll find out on Saturday'. All balls and swagger. God, I miss the old me." He stopped to reflect fondly, then went on. "You said, What happens then? I said, 'I kill --"

"Unhhhhaaah!"

Spike smiled, one eyebrow arching. "...you.'"

"Okay. Okay," he heard her say, gasping under the comforter. "Okay. Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"Get out."

That was the Buffy he knew. "Got it."

He stood up and exited, heading straight for the bathroom.

* * *

"What was up with you last night?" Dawn asked.

Good question, Buffy thought. She didn't quite know how to answer her sister.

Earlier that morning Buffy had padded downstairs only to be faced with a shirtless Spike asleep on the living room couch. Careful not to rouse him, she'd tiptoed past, then hid when she heard a snort. When she'd ventured a peep again, he was luckily still unconscious -- except that his thumb was hooked into his belt buckle, and his fingers were cupping the bulge in his pants.

"Even when you're asleep you know I'm around," she'd murmured with a half-smile.

Buffy cracked an egg into the pan. "What do you mean?"

"Spike wouldn't let me in to see you. Said you got hit by some demon smog or something and that you might be contagious."

"Oh... that."

"You were like, moaning for him," Dawn said, moving into histrionics, "All, 'Spike, I need you!'"

"Moaning? No. I was just... under some kind of mojo thing."

"Well, it was weird. For a second I thought something was going on between you two."

Buffy laughed, a little too loud. "That's funny."

"I know. That'd never happen." Dawn looked at her sister with an unspoken question mark.

"You rented 'Bring It On' again?" Buffy exclaimed, picking up the Blockbuster box on the counter.

"No, we haven't returned it yet. Spike likes it too much."

"Then Spike is paying the extra fee." She slung the box back to its place and congratulated herself on a successful subject change.

"I was surprised. Last night he actually fell asleep before his favorite part."

"His favorite part?" Buffy asked, trying to sound disinterested as she pushed the eggs around with a spatula.

"You know, when that brunette chick puts on the cheerleading outfit."

"The brunette? She's a total slag!"

"He told me he has a thing for tough girls in frilly outfits."

Buffy chuckled. "No argument there."

"I'll return it later today."

"Okay, but Dawn? I don't want you going out there alone."

Dawn sighed in frustration. "Why? I'm not a kid, and I'm not even a key anymore!"

"Those demons last night were really nasty," Buffy said, turning off the eggs and sitting down to face her sister. "I think they're looking for mates, and if they think I've got potential... I just want to make sure they stay away from you."

"But you can kick their asses, right?"

"Not really." Buffy rose to slide the eggs onto plates. "That smog thing Spike told you about? It made me... pretty much helpless."

"Helpless? You? How?" She took a plate.

Buffy resolved that her sister could take the truth. "It was some kind of aphrodisiac."

"Is that why you sounded all hornbaggy last night?"

"Dawn! Hornbaggy?"

"Well, you did."

Buffy sighed. "Yes, that would be why."

"Huh," Dawn said as she buttered her toast.

"What do you mean 'huh'?"

"You were like that, and Spike didn't try anything?"

"No," Buffy insisted, looking off into the living room's direction. "Actually... he was a perfect gentleman."




More to come...

"What I don't understand is why they'd go after Buffy."

"Because, Giles, demons dig me. It's this whole weird slayer thing."

Spike scoffed, feeling somehow implicated.

"Mating demons generally go after their own kind." Giles replaced his glasses.

"Yeah," Spike said defiantly to Buffy, who was turning the pages of a big, dusty book, much like the one he had. They hadn't made eye contact all day. "Generally."

"Unless," Giles said, with 'onto something' face. "Unless there's not enough of their kind here."

"What, and I resemble their kind?" Buffy said. "I don't think so."

Dawn, head resting on a stack of books, snorted loudly in her sleep.

Giles continued, "Well, so far we know they've chosen you and two other demon females. No one else has been harmed that we know of."

"Maybe it's because you're strong," Anya told her. "They think you can take it."

"Oh, I don't think anyone could have taken--" Buffy stopped herself, everyone waiting. "It."

"Pretty gross, huh?" Willow asked.

"Ugh. It was... something I'd never like to describe," she said, glad for once that her little sister could sleep through anything.

Spike volunteered, "Right ugly bastard."

"Perhaps their women have been dying. And perhaps they're attracted to the Hellmouth because of the large selection of demon women."

"Hello?" Buffy raised her hand. "Not a demon!"

"Of course not, Buffy. I only meant that they must be attracted to this spot for a reason."

She closed the book, a big puff of dust rising. "None of these check out, Will."

"Not here either." Spike said.

"Well, at least we've got a heads up on all the other demons in town," Willow said, referring to her spell with Tara earlier that day.

"Yes, well done, Willow," Giles said. "Now, Buffy, I'm curious about the connection to the heat. You say it follows them, like a kind of mist?"

"Yeah. Kinda," was all she could bring herself to say.

"And you were rendered somehow helpless by this mist? The heat was too strong for you?"

"Uh-huh," she squeaked.

"I'll say," Spike said with a roguish grin. He just couldn't help himself.

"I wonder what properties it could have in order to do that...?"

"Slayer Kryptonite?" Xander pondered.

Buffy sighed. "Spike, tell them."

"Which part, love?"

"About what properties it had," she ground out without looking at the insolent vampire.

"Oh. Uh, some kind of pheromone. You know, to get the girl, uh... prepared."

Buffy covered her eyes.

"Oh... uh." Giles reddened. "I see."

Xander raised his eyebrows. "The heat makes you horny?"

Buffy groaned in embarrassment.

"Thank you, Xander, that's the exact thing no one needed spelled out," Giles said.

"A pheromone mist?" said Anya. "That sounds like a Zuxugna demon to me. But they're from the Xugnoic dimension. That's at least 700 gateways from here."

"Shug-no-wick? Is that the one without shrimp?" Tara asked.

"No. It's the one without pleasant-smelling air."

"Of course!" Everyone turned to Giles. "These... Zooshugnas--?" He grabbed a pen to write with.

"Yes -- but spelled with an X, not an SH," Anya said, looking over his shoulder.

"These Zuxugnas could have escaped from one of the portals that opened the instant before we defeated Glory," Giles announced.

"And somehow, only males escaped," offered Buffy.

"Which is why these... Meshuggenahs need women," Xander concluded. "I think I saw this movie!"

"'Attack of the 50 Foot Meshuggenah'?" Willow ventured.

"It's Zuxugna," Anya corrected. "And they don't have fifty feet, just two."

"Do they mate very often?" Giles asked the ex-demon.

"Actually, I think their mating season is once every hundred seventy years or so."

"Great, they're ugly and old." Buffy said.

"Then its not a wonder they're desperate, cast out of their own dimension," Giles surmised. "They're forced to mate with any female they feel can handle their... insemination."

"And that's why the rest of us are impervious to the heat," Willow chimed in. "Aside from it being, you know, hot."

"'Cept that even the demon girls can't take it," Spike said. "They're both in terrible shape."

"Well, Buffy, it seems you should stay out of its way."

"No, I shouldn't."

Giles frowned in question.

"I'm the perfect bait," she explained. "And they're easy to kill if you know how. If Spike comes with me, he can hang back if one attacks me, then get it while its... hot."

Spike was touched. She didn't hate him after all.

Anya happily supplied, "The only way to kill it is to chop off its--"

"Right," Giles said.

"Ouch," Xander said.

"Impossible when it's not mating season," she added.

Suddenly, Buffy felt a familiar twinge.

Spike's nostrils flared.

"It's close," they said in unison.

"How can you tell?" Willow asked.

Buffy gave her a look.

"Oh. You mean..." Willow got it.

"Wait, how did Spike know it was close?" Xander asked.

"Did, uh, did I say it was close? I meant--"

"Spike!" Buffy got up and hurried into the training room. He followed her obediently.

Anya whispered to Xander, "Vampire. You know." She discreetly pointed at her nose.

"Oh, now that's just creepy."

"Yeah," agreed Tara. "That really is."

Remembering Oz, Willow opted to keep her thoughts to herself.

* * *

"Spike?" Buffy turned to face him for the first time since the previous night.

"Love?" He stood back to see if he was going to be chastised.

"What you did... last night," she began. "It was really..." She started over. "As humiliated as I am about everything I did, you were really... decent."

He smiled.

"The thing is..." Another wave hit her. "You're gonna have to help me again."

"I know, love," he said as she wobbled into his arms. "I got you."

"I don't want to do this to you. I know how you feel about me, and--"

"Not another word, pet."

The back door of the training room blasted open and a thick, hot fog filled the room. A Zuxugna advanced toward Buffy. Spike let go of her and plucked a labrys off the wall.

Buffy backed up and glanced at Spike. If he could just make me come right now I could kick its ass...

The demon gurgled as its phallus grew.

"Oi! Shugna daddy!" Spike called to get its attention, then swiftly brought the labrys down.

As he watched it drop to the ground, he mused, "Not very smart, are they?"

"Mm mm," Buffy answered, squeezing her legs together.

Oh, right. Here we go again. "Come on, Slayer."

The fog dissipated, and the Scooby Gang were visible in the doorway.

"That was... ookie," Willow said, shoulders spasming.

"That was a Zuxugna," Anya confirmed.

"Well, it appears they are rather easy to kill," Giles said, stepping over the mess of dead demon. "Though not easy to look at. We're sure it's dead?"

"Yeah, mate. He'll dissolve in a minute or two." Spike was holding Buffy up. She had managed to worm her way inside his jacket, pressing herself against him intimately, a look of restrained ecstasy on her face.

Xander eyed them suspiciously. "Is that the Buffybot?"

"Xander!" Buffy realized what she was doing. "Oh." She pulled away from Spike, and almost fell forward.

"Don't mind her. It's the mist. It'll... wear off. Slayer!" Spike peeled her off of Xander.

"You need to get her out of here," Anya said, nose wrinkling. "Far away from Xander."

"Mmm..." Buffy's arm was draped over Willow's shoulder, forehead touching her cheek. She nuzzled into her friend's neck.

Tara spoke up. "Um... I vote against the wild orgy?"

"Second that," Spike said, gathering her in his arms. "C'mon, Slayer. Gonna get you home now."

Giles spat at Spike, "What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm taking the lady home."

"Like hell you are!" He removed his glasses in one swift motion.

"What's the alternative, mate? You watch her writhe around like a bitch in heat 'til it's over?"

Giles looked vaguely shamed but held his ground. "I hardly think you should be in charge of this."

"Yeah," Xander agreed. "Shouldn't we just tie her up and leave her alone for a while?"

"You just try it," Buffy challenged.

"There is no way you are taking her--"

"Giles!" Buffy shouted, grasping Spike's leather sleeve. "Spike is taking me home. He knows what to do."

* * *

"Spike, you've gotta come over here. Just sit next to me? I promise I won't do anything bad."

"Only if you promise, pet."

As soon as he sat down on the bed, Buffy whipped off the comforter, revealing the silver vibrator inside of her. She went back to pumping it with one hand and massaging her clit with the other.

It was more than he could take. "Don't stop what you're doing. Be right back."

"Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"I know what you're gonna do in there. Why don't you do it here?"

"Buffy--"

"You're watching me do it. It's only fair."

He couldn't refuse a lady, could he? Masturbation play -- that's innocent enough, right?

With a lustful gaze, he began to unbuckle his belt. When he freed himself, Buffy's eyes widened.

"S'wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing. Bigger than I thought."

He smiled proudly, and took hold of his thick cock. Out of habit, he spit on his hand for lubrication.

Buffy pulled out her vibrator, leaving a trail of wet sticky liquid. "Gimme your hand."

He obeyed. With the vibrator and her hand, she slathered her come all over his palm, smiling coquettishly all the while.

"I've got enough for both of us," she said.

He could have shot his load right then. But dammit, he was going to make this moment last.

When she smeared the last of it on his mouth, he caught her finger between his teeth and sucked it in. His eyes rolled up and his inner poet rejoiced.

"Ambrosia," he declared.

"Come up here," she said, smiling sweetly.

Spike knelt beside her on the bed and tentatively began to stroke.

As Buffy watched him intently, touching herself, he took on a more steady pace.

He couldn't hold it much longer. With jagged breath, he said, "Buff-- Where--"

Understanding completely, Buffy flicked her fingers over her nipples and said, "Here."

"Gahh!" Spike shouted as he shot cold semen onto Buffy's nubile breasts.

Buffy rubbed it over herself, down her stomach, to her pussy and came, hard, squeezing her eyes shut.

Spike came down slowly, savoring the sensation.

Buffy opened her eyes as her breathing evened out. "Okay," she said with determination.

"Right," he said, getting up to buckle and close his jeans. "I'm gone."

"Wait," she said, grasping his arm. "Can you, um, maybe get me a towel? And some water?"

She wasn't asking him to leave? She wasn't too embarrassed to look at him?

"Sure thing, pet."



More to come...

"You got this for me?"

"Yeah." Buffy shrugged, leaning against the porch railing. "Only 'cause I'm sick of fishing cigarette butts out of the potted plants."

Spike thumbed the porcelain ashtray that featured a high relief of a cartoonish devil girl. "I'm touched, Summers." He looked back up at her. I got to come all over you last night and you're gettin' *me* presents?

"Don't be." Buffy shrugged again, averting her gaze.

He put the ashtray down and extinguished his cigarette, exhaling through his nose.

"Ready to fight evil?" Buffy casually flung an axe his way.

"As I'll ever be," he said as he caught it deftly and followed her down the porch steps.

* * *

"Looks like a bust."

They'd traveled around Sunnydale twice and evil had yet to rear its horny head.

"Well, at least I get a night off from being crazy demon slut," Buffy said.

"Thank God." Spike said. "Hate you like that."

She threw him a look. "Shyeah."

"Where to now, pet?"

"I'm thinkin' home," she said, wiping sweat from her forehead. "Possibly dinner. Definitely a cold shower."

He cocked a brow at her.

"Alone," she stressed. "And just because of the heat, Mister... Gutter-mind Man."

"I didn't say anything."

"But you thought it."

"I did. I admit it," he sighed, smiling. He spotted Blockbuster Video in the distance. "Up for a movie?"

"Sure. Anything but 'Bring It On'."

"What's wrong with 'Bring It On'?" He ground a cigarette under his boot. "Bloody brilliant picture."

"Sure, if you like skanky brunettes in cheerleading outfits."

"I'd hardly call her skanky. Just... misunderstood is all."

"Oh, quelle surprise," she said sarcastically. "Spike is thinking with his dick again."

He stopped walking, gasped loudly and pointed at her. "You're jealous!"

Buffy scoffed. "Am not!"

"Are so!"

She gaped, hands resting on her hips. "Can you possibly get over yourself for one millisecond?"

"Admit it, love. You're seething with jealousy 'cause Spike's got a yen for a bird on the telly."

"I am not jealous! I could never be jealous of... someone who calls girls 'birds' or TVs 'tellys'," she huffed. "And 'yen'? Who says that anymore?"

"So I can't fancy anyone but you, 'ey? Can't ever have you, but I can't want anyone else either."

"You are so far off base right now." Her fists clenched. "And completely out of line."

"Oh, am I now?" Spike scoffed. "You know what your problem is, Summers?"

"Please, enlighten me. I'd love--"

Suddenly, Spike fell to the ground, knocked unconscious.

"Spike!"

A huge Zuxugna demon stood behind him.

Buffy couldn't understand why she hadn't felt it coming this time.

Maybe because fighting with Spike always turned her on.

The demon gurgled at her and advanced.

"Crap." Spike wasn't moving. "Spike! Wake up you stupid pig!"

She faced the demon and smiled weakly.

"You know," she began as she maneuvered toward the axe. "I really don't think that, that thing of yours will even fit inside me. So let's go find you someone more your species, whattaya think? At least..." she added with a smaller voice, "more your size?"

She managed to reach the axe, but the Zuxugna kicked it far from her reach.

The haze made it hard to see Spike. Her only option was to try to quell her rising sexual appetite, fight off the demon and get to the axe. Okay, strategy, Buffy. Think. ...Not about sex.

Buffy lay before the Zuxugna and cried out, "I give in! I'm helpless against your... slimy manhood!"

When he got close enough, she swiftly kicked his legs out from under him. He toppled onto his back. Though her body pulsed with need, she was able to make a run for the axe. However, when she stood up again, there were three erect demons surrounding her.

"Yay," she said, not very happy at all. "My first gang bang."

She felt a wave of paralyzing pleasure and dropped the axe. Two of them grabbed her arms as Zuxugna #1 whapped a claw across her chest, slicing her tanktop open along with some skin. Blood trickled down her front.

"Okay... now... I'm upset," she said, her wavering voice not quite matching her anger. The more demons there were, the more pheromones apparently filled the air. She was able to fight one this time. But three? Against three she was pretty much screwed.

She groaned. That would be literally.

When the Zuxugna's hideous phallus got close enough, she tried kicking it with all of her diminished power. It spurted a little, then sprang right back to life. "Eugh!"

He readied another claw, this time aiming lower. She realized it was trying to figure out how to get her clothing off. Good thing I don't wear skirts on patrol anymore, she thought, trying to strategize her next move.

Suddenly, an axe came down from nowhere. The Zuxugna gurgled one last time and fell. Spike materialized in the mist.

The two remaining demons went after Spike. "Yeah, come on, you ugly bastards!"

Buffy backed up, her legs giving way, her whole body buzzing with desire.

Not for the demons.

For Spike.

She heard the axe again. Two down. The third came lumbering towards Buffy. Spike stopped him in his tracks.

This time some green, murky spew hit him. "Oh, bloody... hell!"

Buffy giggled.

He stood before her, extending a hand, using the other to wipe gunk off of his cheek. "Miss me?"

"Uh-huh." Take me, take me. Take me now.

He pulled her up to him, inspecting her front. "You're hurt, love."

"S'okay."

"Let's get you fixed up."

"'Kay." She coiled around him.

"Ow! Damn!"

Concern etched her features. "What is it, baby?"

"Bloody demon scum burns!" As he tried to rub away the sting with his t-shirt, it occurred to Spike that Buffy the Vampire Slayer™ had just called him 'baby.' He wrapped his free arm around her tenderly.

Fondling his exposed chest, she cooed, "Oh, poor sweet baby! We gotta wash it off."

Her terms of endearment were turning him on but the stinging pain was ruining his fun. "Bloody hell!"

"Town pool!" Buffy pointed down the street.

"Right, let's go."

* * *

"Drained?" Buffy said, staring at the empty pool. "It's practically the middle of summer!"

Spike pointed at a sign that said POOL CLOSED SUMMER 2001 FOR RENOVATIONS.

"Damn."

"Do these showers work?" Spike asked, opening one of the stall doors. He turned a rusted faucet and cold water streamed out. "Come on. Gotta wash out your cuts." He peeled his t-shirt off and stepped in.

Though it was dark in the stall, Spike's preternatural eyesight allowed him to see everything. He spotted a half-empty shampoo bottle and rubbed the soap onto his face and chest and rinsed. Luckily, the pain soon abated.

Buffy was behind him. In a sheer baby blue underwear set. She hissed as the bra hook snagged on her cut.

Spike turned his attention to fixing her up.

She recoiled as he rubbed the shampoo into her wound. "Ow!"

"I've gotta make sure none of it got into you," he explained.

As he ran the water over her cuts, Buffy tugged on his jeans.

"Buffy--"

She somehow got his belt off and pants open before he could protest. She lathed shampoo over his stomach, then onto his hardening cock. "Gotta make sure."

He could see her minxy little smile as her tiny hands stroked him. She pushed him under the stream of water.

Her mouth met his ear. "Baby, I'm bleeding."

"I know." Blood. Sex. Buffy. Oh God help me.

"Kiss and make better?"

Spike's demon emerged.

Which meant he couldn't be held accountable for what he said next:

"Yeah."

Slamming her against the shower wall, Spike lifted her up and licked her wound. He shook with lust as fresh slayer blood warmed his body.

"Spike. Please, I need you," she begged.

That was all the coaxing he needed. He tore off her drenched blue thong and hiked her legs around his waist, suspending her in mid-air.

She gazed into his yellow eyes as she slowly descended, her slick pussy lips kissing his sensitive tip.

No more takin' this slow.

He rammed skyward and roared in lightning-bright ecstasy.

Buffy was wetter than he could imagine, tighter than he thought possible, and hotter than hell. He thought he would die right then and there.

Buffy cried out in delight.

Spike filled every inch of her, hard and cold as marble. She thought she would die right there and then.

It wouldn't be a bad way to go, they thought.

As she slid down, taking him in completely, she whispered, "Perfect fit."

Hungrily, he kissed her, and his face morphed back to its human visage. She stopped to look at him. Her mind flashed back to the dream she'd had. What was it she was reminded of?

Buffy grunted in pleasure when he slammed her against the wall again. So you can inflict pain as long as I'm game.

"Gotta love that chip loophole," she found herself saying out loud.

"God bless the Initiative," Spike agreed.

Initiative. Riley. No, no. Not gonna go there. Buffy pushed away all feelings other than the intense joy that coincided with each thrust of Spike's hips.

"Spike's got you," he said sotto voce, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. "Spike's got you now."

You and your mindreading, Buffy thought with an unbidden thrill. Always know what I'm thinking, even when you pretend you don't...

"Got you," he repeated.

"Yes," she gasped.

"Buffy, Buffy, Buffy," he babbled as he bore into her slick, inviting center.

The door he fucked her against gave and they toppled, naked, to the hard cement that surrounded the pool.

They shared a laugh. "Ow," she said, patting her head.

"You alright, pet?"

Buffy grasped the nape of his neck. "Don't stop."

"Never," he said earnestly, searching her eyes.

She pulled him in for a torrid kiss and wrapped her legs tightly around his.

As he drove into her, harder and faster, he pushed a single repeated sound out of her mouth and into his: "Unh! Unh! Unh!"

"Gonna come," she said, and directed him to the crimson gash over her right breast.

Fucking dream come fucking true was the last coherent thought Spike had before vamping out, sucking her blood hungrily and shooting his load into Buffy's hot core.

Buffy climaxed with a scream, thinking, Never, Never, Never so good...

* * *

Spike slowly became aware of his surroundings. A warm female body underneath him. The smell of coagulated blood. Of... Buffy's coagulated blood.

He extended his forearms to get a better look.

Naked, with a bite mark above her nipple punctuating the slash she'd suffered from the demon, Buffy slept soundly.

The night came crashing back to him. Damn. Damn damn damn...

A bird chirped. A bird? He bolted upright.

It was then that he noticed that it was nearly sunrise. And he was blocks away from shelter.

"Bloody hell!" He hopped to his feet, yanking up the still-damp black jeans that never made it all the way off his legs. "Shirt! Bloody shirt!"

He found it flung across the top of a shower stall. His jacket was lying a few feet away.

His instinct to flee was diverted when he looked at her again. So sweet. So trusting. So... deadly. He sighed. Gonna kill me when she wakes up and sees what I've done to her.

He debated leaving her there. No, she'll kill me either way. May as well get her home first.

If he could just do it without waking her...

Her clothes were piled outside the stall. He quickly tugged her slacks up her legs and pulled the tattered tanktop over her head. "S'not a school day!" she sleep-whined. He chuckled and carefully scooped her up.

As expected, no one paid any mind to the wet vampire running through Sunnydale carrying an unconscious, blood-smeared damsel in his arms.

The sun neared the horizon, giving Spike a horrible chill.

Thank god. Revello Drive.

He ran up the front walk of Buffy's home and kicked the door in.

He thanked the heavens that Dawn was sleeping over at Willow's as he carefully tread up the stairs and into Buffy's room.

Depositing her on the bed, he tucked her in and kissed her forehead. Afraid it would be the last time, he stopped to caress her face.

She moaned and grasped his hand.

Wresting free, he whispered, "Sorry, love," and went for the door.




More to come...

"What the hell was that?"

Spike hadn't been sleeping. He'd been waiting for her to storm into his crypt like this, angry as hell and ready to stake him good and proper this time.

He held his breath. There was nothing he could say.

"Tell me, Spike." She stalked over to him. "Tell me why I woke up this morning alone."

"Buffy." He paused, and looked at her for the first time since she'd arrived. "What?"

"I mean, I can't figure it out. It's not like you had a soul to lose. And I know I'm not a bad lover."

A bad lover? She thinks... "What?"

"If you think you're gonna pull that now-that-I've-banged-you, don't-call-me riff, you've got another fucking think coming."

"Buffy!" He stood up and grasped her shoulders. "That's not why I left!"

"So why did you?" She looked ready to cry.

"Because I failed you!"

She knit her brow. "Huh?"

"You were... vulnerable and, I, I was weak. You were counting on me to take care of you. But then there was blood, and I couldn't stop myself. And now..." He sat down on the bare sarcophagus. Now I'm nothing but a monster to you.

Buffy's tone softened. "You did take care of me." She tried to make eye contact. "It takes two, you know. I wanted it."

He bristled. "Yeah, it. Not me."

"What are you talking about?"

"Buffy. In that state you would've pounced on the nearest vaguely human-shaped body." He shrugged. "I just happened to be that body."

"So that's what this is about? Your ego is bruised?"

Spike sighed.

"You know," Buffy said, "for one of the most annoyingly perceptive people I've ever met, you sure are an idiot."

He looked at her.

She sighed in exasperation. "Think for a minute, Spike. Why did I dream about you that first night? I mean, for all intents and purposes I could've dreamed about anyone. And what the hell does an aphrodisiac demon have to do with letting you suck my blood?"

Spike was quieted.

"Why do you think I wanted you and you alone, the one and only Spike, William the Great and Bloody, to take care of me these past few nights?"

Though unable to answer, he smiled a little at the extension of his moniker.

"I'll give you a hint. It's not just because you're almost as strong as me."

"Why, then?" He eyed her suspiciously, noticing that she was wearing a cruelly irresistible little pink wraparound dress.

"Because I like you!" she cried, arms outspread. "Because I have a thing for you. And because," she sighed and lowered her voice, "you're the only one who can make me come."

Was this a trick? Had she sent in the Buffybot to toy with his emotions?

She approached him slowly, confidently. "You know that moment," she said as she straddled his lap, "when you're so close..." her arms around his neck, fingers brushing over the nape, "and you just need something to think about; that one thing that flashes in your mind to..." her eyelashes swept down and up, "push you right over the edge?"

Spike nodded, entranced. He knew that moment all too well: the one where anything goes. Where she'd taken up residence for years before he admitted his attraction.

"It's always been you," she whispered.

Spike was astonished. He whispered, "Me?"

She nodded with a womanly smile.

"Always?"

"Always."

Their lips touched. He fingered the soft fabric of the wrap dress he was about to unwrap. "What's this, anyway?"

Buffy smiled. "It was the frilliest thing I had. Not a cheerleading uniform, I know--"

"You wore it for me?"

"Like it?"

He answered with a deep, searing kiss.

* * *

"Always me, 'ey?" Spike said, grabbing the lighter from his jacket pocket.

"I can see I never should have told you this." Buffy rested on his bare chest, exhausted from another earth-shattering orgasm.

"All the years I've known you, all the tossers you've shared a bed with, all the times you've pleasured yourself." He beamed with male pride. "You thought of me."

"Only for like, a second. And, just for the record, there haven't been that many... tossers. It shouldn't merit an 'all'."

"Your dirty little secret." He shook his head and lit the cigarette that jutted from his mouth. "Spike, all along."

"You're never gonna let this go, are you?"

Spike exhaled. "Not until I know exactly how, when, where, etcetera etcetera."

"I am not telling you anything."

"Ashamed you've always wanted to shag me, are you?"

"Hey, sexual fantasies can have nothing to do with what you want in real life."

"I believe that's usually followed by, 'as long as you don't act on them'."

She giggled. "Oh, yeah."

"Looks like you're past the point of no return, love." He ran his thumb along her rapidly healing bite marks.

"Looks like." Buffy twined her fingers in his. "You said it yourself, I've got 'bleedin' tragic taste in men'."

Spike gasped in mock surprise. "'Sthat how you think I talk?"

"It is how you talk. Bleedin', bloody, bollocky, blah blah blah."

"Hate to tell you this, love, but you've got the worst English accent I've ever heard."

"Oh yeah? Tell me you're a 'friend of Xanderrrrrzzz.'"

"Alright. Fine. I won't fake yours if you don't fake mine."

"Deal." Buffy moved on top of him and snatched the cigarette out of his mouth, flinging it across the crypt.

"Don't tell me you're gonna make me quit now."

"No. I just need your mouth."

"Oh. Better."

* * *

"Hey, guys."

"Buffy. Spike. It's been... a few days," Giles said.

"Yeah, major demon-slayage," Buffy said casually. "Did you need me?"

"Well, actually, yes. We've discovered something quite unsettling about these, er, Zuxugnas."

"More unsettling than them wanting to mate with me?"

"I suppose not. But there have been a great deal more attacks. It appears an entire army of Zuxugna males escaped from the portal."

"Those crazy demons. They just keep a-comin'," Xander said.

"Xander!" Buffy wrinkled her nose at him and turned back to Giles. "How many make an army?"

"Possibly hundreds."

"Oh. Great. Looks like the fun's just started." Buffy took a seat at the table.

Spike knew enough not to sit next to her. Instead, he stood where he could see her.

"I like your dress," Anya said.

"Thanks, Anya," Buffy said, surprised at the compliment.

Spike smiled. After all, he'd had a hand in picking it out.

"Buffy, I think it may be wise for all of us to work together on this. You can't fight an army alone. Or, rather, Spike can't."

"Hey!" Spike said.

"W-what do you mean, work together?" Buffy stammered.

"We should all be on patrol with you. If they're as easy to kill as you say..."

"Willow, can't we just find a way to send them back to their own dimension? Like the troll guy?"

"I'm on it already. It'd be tough though, with so many. They'd all have to be in the same place at once. And sending something back to its exact dimension is tricky."

"Who cares as long as its not this one?"

"It could be a land of-of fluffy bunnies," Tara offered. "That could be a real disaster."

"Bunnies?" Anya cried. "Bunnies?!" She looked to Xander, who put an arm around his panicking fiancée.

"S-sorry," Tara apologized. "It was just an example."

"In any case," Giles began, "until we learn how to banish them, it would be best if we all came with you, just in case you're outnumbered."

Buffy sighed and looked at Spike. Almost imperceptibly, he nodded. "Okay," she said. "But you guys should keep your distance 'til they show. They won't come after anyone but me unless they think you're in the way."

* * *

"Spike, I've got an idea," Buffy whispered, feeling her temperature rise.

"Yeah?"

"You guys?" she called out to her friends who trailed behind. "They're close! Stay back for a minute!"

Five silhouettes stopped at the top of a hill behind them.

"C'mere." Buffy grabbed Spike and pushed him into the nearest crypt, ushering him into a dark corner. She lifted the hem of her new dress.

He grinned. "Love, this is hardly the--"

"Don't argue. Fuck me."

Shrugging, he spun her around to face the crypt wall and unbuttoned his jeans, then pushed her panties aside.

"Keep quiet," he said.

* * *

"It's okay, they're still up there." Buffy tried to discreetly wipe away the mingled ejaculates that trailed down her bare inner thigh.

"No demons yet," Spike said.

"Good timing, baby."

He looked at her. "I think I'd like to hear you call me that when you're not under the influence."

"What are you talking about? I'm not."

Spike was visibly perplexed.

"Duh! Why do you think we just... did what we did?" she asked, aware of her slowly advancing friends.

"'Cause you're horny?" he whispered.

"Well, yeah. But also 'cause it neutralizes their power over me."

"So you're one hundred percent now."

"One hundred percent."

"And you just called me 'baby'."

"Shhh."

"Buffy! Behind you!" Giles' voice.

She back-snap-kicked the demon and sent it flying.

"Sorry, the Buffay's not open today," she punned with a smile. Then, grabbing the axe from Spike's hand, she chopped cleanly across the offending object.

The gang came running.

"Buffy, that was splendid," Giles said, catching his breath. "I thought you were powerless against them."

Buffy shrugged. "I'm learning to overcome."



More to come, over and over again...

Beep. Beep. Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!

Buffy popped the microwave open and scanned the countertops for the meat thermometer. She checked the silverware drawer, then the junk drawer. Nothing. She bent down to look in the cupboard under the sink.

A cool hand cupped her ass. "Mmmm... Don't mind if I do."

"Spike!" She sprang up.

He caressed her from behind, wrapped his arms around her and gave her breasts a possessive squeeze.

Buffy almost buckled from the rumbling he was doing in her ear. Then she remembered why she wanted him to stop. "Spike. Stop. Dawn."

"Actually, it's dusk, love, but--"

"No, my sister, Dawn."

"What's she got to do with this?" He whispered, squeezing harder.

"She's here."

He pulled away. "You brought her back with you?" He looked behind him and lowered his voice. "I thought we'd be alone tonight."

"I know. I just... she wanted to be home, and -- I can't keep asking my friends to take her in. They're gonna suspect something."

"But -- nasty demons. Grrr," he added for emphasis.

"We already know they won't hurt her."

"What about patrolling?"

"Not tonight. She wanted some QT. I can't refuse her that."

"And if the Zuxugnas come here and break down the door?"

"Then we kill them."

Spike sighed. "Alright."

"You'll be good?"

He put his hands in his back pockets. "I'll be good. But I'll be better after she's asleep." He wiggled his eyebrows.

"Spike," she warned with a smile.

Suddenly, he sniffed the air and asked, "Are you--?"

Buffy bristled. "I was making -- in the microwave."

He walked over to it. "Thought I smelled something," he sniffed the cup with a skeptical look, "human..."

She looked a little guilty. "It fell off a truck?"

"You stole human blood for me?"

"Shhhh!" she whispered. "Sort of. Don't get all excited."

"Hey Spike," Dawn said casually as she walked in the room.

"Nibblet," Spike greeted, still staring at Buffy.

* * *

"I don't get it," Dawn said from her spot on the floor. "If she liked him all along, why didn't she just say so in the beginning?"

Buffy and Spike shared a meaningful glance.

"Then there wouldn't be a movie," Buffy answered.

"More fun that way," Spike added.

A little buzzed from the blood, he took the Slayer's bare foot in his lap. She unsuccessfully tried to kick him away.

Upon brushing his fingers softly across a delicate arch, he became aware of a familiar scent.

He stood at the ready. "Shut it off."

Dawn quickly hit a button on the remote control. "What is it?"

"Spike?" Buffy said.

He waved her away, trying to hear.

"Spike," Buffy said again, louder.

"Grab an axe."

"Spike!" Buffy yelled. "Sit down."

He turned to look at her.

She looked vaguely embarrassed. "There are no demons."

"What do you mean? I can sm--"

"No demons, Spike," she asserted.

"You can smell the demons?" Dawn asked, nose wrinkling.

Spike frowned at Buffy, until realization hit.

He grinned.

She smiled shyly.

"Thought I heard something," he told Dawn, and sidled up to his former enemy who could now become fully aroused at his slightest touch.

"Geez," Dawn said, turning the TV back on. "Paranoid much?"

"Much," Spike said, unable to tear his eyes away.

God, he wanted her.

* * *

WARNING: The following segment involves menstrual blood and the vampiric enjoyment of. Squicked? Don't read it.

* * *

Dawn yawned and stretched. "I'm beat. I think I'm gonna go to bed."

"But it's still early," Buffy said. The living room clock pointed at 9:30.

"Giles had me cataloging today. I think it fried my brain."

"Working for him again tomorrow?"

"Yup. Every day but Sunday and Monday, all summer. Big bucks."

"Yay big bucks," Buffy said.

"Big yay. Night guys."

"Night, Bit," he said.

"Night, Dawn," she said.

The girl disappeared up the stairs.

Spike waited.

Then pounced.

"Spike!" Buffy whispered harshly. "Stop! She'll hear!"

He grabbed the remote and turned the volume up.

"Baby's got a treat for Daddy," he said, tongue wiggling out, wicked smile on his face.

Buffy looked horrified. "No!"

Holding her hips, he nuzzled his head between her legs and inhaled heartily. "Oh yes you do."

"Spike! You're disgusting! Leave me alone!"

"Not disgusting! Natural! Beautiful!"

"Oh whatever!" She kicked him off. "This is not a treat for you."

"What were you gonna do? Donate blood, steal it, present it in a fancy mug once a month and just hope I can't pick up the scent?"

She frowned, hating that he was so smart. "That was the plan."

"It's got a completely different scent, you know--"

"I thought you'd at least be distracted--"

"Not that I don't appreciate the gesture."

"Well, it's null and void now," she huffed.

"Why don't you let me have a taste then?"

"From my neck, yes. From there -- no. No no no no no no NO."

"Why?"

"Because it's gross!"

"Come on. I'm a vampire! It's what I do."

"Exactly! Gross."

"How can it be gross? It's the beauty of human femininity! It means you can make life."

"What's gross is making it your after-dinner drink."

"Buffy, people do it all the time. There's nothing wrong with it."

"Oh yeah? What do they do exactly?"

"Have a good time when the girl's got her monthlies," he sing-songed.

"I'll go down on you," she bargained.

"Before or after I go down on you?"

She sighed. "You're impossible."

"Come on, off with you," he said to her capri jeans.

"First of all, the pants can't hear you." She swatted his impish hand away. "Second, this is a brand new couch--"

"I won't spill," he said with a smile.

"--and my sister could walk down at any minute--"

"I'll take you in the bedroom," he offered.

"No," she said.

"The shower?"

"No!"

"Buffy..." He climbed her body slowly, his demeanor changing as he got to her ear. "I know there's a tiny part of you that wants to give your Spike a little taste."

She shivered underneath him. "Nuh-uh."

"Oh yes... I can feel it," he said as he clasped her hands over her head.

"I hate you," she said, her resolve crumbling.

"No, you don't," he said. "Open up for Daddy. Just for a minute. I'll stop if you don't like it."

"You will not."

"I will!" He kissed her. "Cross my heart."

She rolled her eyes and exhaled heavily. "Okay."

He jumped up and began to unbutton her pants.

"Hey!" She gestured at the stairs.

"I can hear her snoring," Spike said. "She's asleep."

"But... the couch!"

"On the floor then." He rolled them onto the floor.

She struggled as he pulled her pants off. "At least let me go to the bathroom first--"

He yanked down her black cotton panties.

"--to take out the--"

He stopped and stared at it. "What's this?"

She tried to close her legs, but he wouldn't let her. "It's called a tampon, Spike."

He tugged on the string.

Before she could protest, he'd tugged it all the way out. "Spike!"

It dangled in front of his face. He was fascinated.

"Spike! Put it--" She tried to grab a napkin from the coffee table, then saw what he was about to do. "If you dare put that in your mouth I'm never having sex with you ever again."

He shrugged. "One man's tampon," he said, dropping it into his mug of blood, "another man's teabag."

"You're the grossest most disgusting man alive."

"Undead," he corrected.

"Whatever. Get that out of here now."

"Here," he said and stuffed a napkin into the mug to cover it up.

"Spike--"

Done with talking, he descended and licked her from bottom to top.

Buffy forgot the points of her argument. All that mattered was his mouth and how it made her feel.

Spike reveled in the taste of her blood. It was delicious; aromatic and sweet. If her come is the food of the gods, he thought, this is the nectar of the Devil Herself.

Spike couldn't stop himself from morphing into the demon he was.

Buffy spasmed helplessly beneath him as he tongued her deeply and rubbed her clitoris. After a few moments, she grabbed hold of his ears, and a blood and come cocktail flowed copiously into his mouth.

Dazed, he dragged Buffy's limp body towards him and thrust into her, grunting in release.

He held onto her tightly as his body calmed.

"Bloody hell."

"Got the bloody part right," she said with a giggle.

"Bloody heaven," he said.

They giggled together.

He moved to kiss her but she pushed him away.

"Whoa, Willy," Buffy said. "Now we shower."





More to come...

"Where the hell are you?" Buffy grumbled to the vacant spot beside her head. Normally, Spike crept into her room some fifteen seconds after her sister's first audible snore.

The snore that happened... she checked her bedside clock and shook it, as if that would force it to tell a different, earlier time, ...an HOUR ago?

"If he's watching some stupid movie..." Buffy sat up in bed and grabbed her pajama top. If he wasn't coming up, she was going down.

Definitely going down, she thought, a warm sensation washing over her. She loved that helpless look on his face when she...

Anyway, she was mad at him.

Not bothering to look for any underwear, she tiptoed out the door and made her way downstairs to the couch he'd made his home.

There he lay, bathed in the television's glow. Shirtless, hugging the remote control, out cold. Literally. Vampire and all.

She smiled to herself. It had been a rough night. Lots of demon-hunting, no demons -- many vampires. And a very close call.

Happening upon a lair in an abandoned monastery by the highway, they'd shrugged, thinking, what the hell? After busting in, however, it was apparent that there were a few more than they'd bargained for.

At once, a kind of telepathy took over, surging between them as they downed one after the other. Buffy was thrilled, and more than a little turned on.

They'd fucked right afterward, there on the floor, Buffy's shoulders scraping against dusty vampire remains.

She soon discovered, however, that her extrasensory tinglies weren't working overtime just for her lover -- one last vamp had been hiding in the rafters and took this unguarded moment as an opportunity to strike.

Buffy saved Spike just in time, flinging him over her head as a stake narrowly missed his back. Okay, so she threw him neck-first into a stone statue, but at least he was alive. By the time the coast was clear, he was too unsexily injured and she was too freaked out to get back in the mood.

Point is, he owed her an orgasm.

She pulled the remote out of his grasp and whispered, "Spike?"

Nothing.

It always sort of creeped her a little, that he looked so dead when he was asleep. No breathing. Not even a heartbeat. Just... pretty much dead.

This was unacceptable. She wanted him awake and pretending like he was alive again.

Just in case Dawn decided to venture downstairs mid-fun, Buffy clicked off the TV. The room went dark.

She dropped the remote, straddled his hips and nipped on his neck. "Spike?"

Trailing down his chest, circling her tongue around one nipple while squeezing the other with her fingertips, she felt him harden beneath her and make a tiny sound. This was an improvement.

She unbuckled his belt and pulled his jeans open, then wrapped her lips around the tip of his cock. It jumped and pulsed in her mouth as she relaxed her throat and descended. She sucked hard as she rolled back up.

A hand moved into her hair. "Dru..."

Dru?! Buffy whipped her head up and let his cock flop onto his belly with a thwack.

Spike was smiling down at her and chuckling, one arm behind his head.

She narrowed her eyes and sprung back on top of him. "Funny."

"I thought so."

"Just for that, no blowjob." She held his cock tightly, poising herself over it.

"Pity," he said, eyes fixed on what she was about to do. He lifted her pajama top to get a better view.

Buffy took him into her, reveling in the little shivers that ran up her spine and lingered at her neck.

His eyes glazed over and he gripped her waist as she pumped up and down, quickening the pace, her breathing heavy and rhythmic.

It was one of his favorite sounds, that breathing, second only to the big orgasmic scream. He snuck his hands under her pajama top to her soft, bouncing breasts. Taken by the sound and sight and feel of her, he choked, "Buffy!"

Head falling back, she moaned, "Mmm... Angel!"

Spike froze, and pushed her off of him, then shot up to kneel over her. "What the hell was--?"

She giggled.

"Oh, you're a hoot." Roughly spinning her around, his voice dropped to a sinister snarl. "Too bad Angel can't do this." He drove into her fiercely, knocking the wind out of her. "Or this." He ripped her pajama top and sunk sharp fangs into her shoulder.

Buffy cried out in surprise ...and pain.

He cupped a hand over her mouth and proceeded to drink and fuck her convulsively, bruising her inside and out. Snarling all the while.

Note to self, Buffy thought dimly. Don't bring up Angel ever again.

She could stop him. She should stop him... but she'd never encountered his demon in such force before, and this crazed possessiveness was kind of turning her on.

Or maybe I should bring him up more often...

She started to sweat and feel a little dizzy then, and it was suddenly obvious that this could take a very wrong turn.

"Spi-ike," she managed to sputter through his fingers.

Spike foggily realized what he was doing. He was drinking way too much and fucking her way too hard, and this time she wasn't under any demon mojo.

His fangs immediately receded, and he licked and kissed her wound.

Buffy couldn't help but be impressed at how quickly he snapped himself out of it. And he says he has no soul.

He hooked his chin over her shoulder. "Sorry, love. It's just..."

"I know, baby." She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and petted him, adding, "There is a way you can make it up to me, though."

He pulled her up. "Is there?"

"Uh-huh." She turned to face him, wiping the blood from her shoulder and smearing it on his mouth.

He paused for a second, then licked it off. "And that is...?"

She unceremoniously shoved his head down until his nose touched her soft curls.

He laughed and dipped his tongue in, making her spasm and clamp her thighs around his ears.

Spike loved the taste of her: lemon and peach. And the scent... He took a deep inhale, and was instantly hard again.

He peeked upwards as he began to lash at her mercilessly. Head whipping back and forth on the couch pillow, mouth open in a silent wail. Magnificent.

Spike held her down and tightened his lips around her clit, sucking gently. Her body shook as she let slip a strangled cry.

He made a slight adjustment in his mind. That was his second favorite sound.

As her legs tremored in aftershock, Spike zealously consumed her remaining juices.

In time with his lapping, she groaned, "How... how... how did you get so good at this?"

He looked up with a grin, mouth shiny. "Years of practice."

"I don't wanna know about your practice!" she chided with a light slap to his head.

He folded his arms over her taut belly and rested his chin there. "I love it when you're jealous."

"Well, I don't love it when you are."

"Sure you do." He bent down and enunciated between licks, "That's... why... you're so... wet."

"Shhh...!" She yanked him up by his ear and pulled his face to hers, whispering defiantly, "Am not. Was wet before. All that waiting..."

He chuckled. "Maybe so, but I can feel it, Slayer -- when you get extra tingly. Knowin' how angry I was... roughing you up..." He gazed at her glistening mouth.

"Don't like it rough," she pouted.

"Do so. Pouty," he teased, and tugged at her lip with his teeth.

She pushed his chest upwards, her eyes gleaming. "So?"

"What?"

"So get with the roughing up already." He still needed to come, after all.

"Nah," he said. "I'm thinkin' sweet and tender."

She smiled. "Really."

"Yeah." He pressed himself against her and murmured, "I can do tender too, you know."

"You. Tender." She snorted in disbelief.

He didn't say another word. Just brushed her hair back and kissed her, softly, sweetly. Gazing into her eyes, he rested the tip of his length at her opening, slowly rotating his hips and easing into her, inch by painstaking inch.

Buffy reached down and cupped his ass, attempting to push him in. Spike shooed her hand away. "Let it happen."

It took several more steady, leisurely strokes before he was buried to the hilt.

Arching and moaning into him, she admitted she was wrong. He definitely knew tender.

The sight of his muscled chest enveloping her, the feel of his mouth so close to hers... This wasn't bad. Not at all.

As he neared his climax, one image replayed in Spike's mind: Buffy touches shoulder, brings blood to his lips. Doesn't give it a second thought. Doesn't realize what it means.

He bit back a growl as he spilled his seed into her.

She caressed his face as he came down.

Spike looked into her eyes. He wanted to tell her he loved her, but everything was different now that they were together. He knew she'd feel pressured if he said it. And he didn't want to hear her reaction. No, it was better to leave it unsaid.

"Like tender," Buffy said, nodding. "Tender good."

He kissed her soundly. "Good. Now can I spank you?"

"You're evil."

"So I've been told." He growled as he caught her lips again.

After more langorous kisses, she stopped him with a regretful sigh. "I'd better go back to bed."

Spike kissed her eyelids. "Don't go."

"Oh, sure. 'Dawn, it's not what you think. Spike just got very tired and fell asleep inside of me.'"

"Right," he said, reluctantly allowing her to sit up.

"And by the way? You owe me new jammies."

"What?"

"Pajamas?" She tugged on her ripped top.

"Why? You never wear 'em."

She rolled her eyes as she got up. "Evil."

"You love it," he said, caressing her bare bottom.

She bent down to kiss him. "Goodnight, Spike."

He wrapped his arms around her and deepened the kiss.

She swatted his hands away and wagged a finger at him. "Don't start, you..." Her eyes darted to something behind him. "Oh my god, I can't believe you!" She pushed past him and adjusted the curtain that had been opened just a sliver. "Are you trying to get fried? You really need to be more careful."

He tried not to swell with adoration -- really he did.

Luckily, she didn't notice. "Sheesh," she said, absentmindedly pressing her lips against his forehead. "Sleep tight, okay?"

It was a little hard for him to speak, but he managed, "Yeah. You too."

Spike let her hand go and watched her graceful climb up the staircase.

When he could move again, he laid back and stretched his legs on the couch.

Well... she'd done it. She'd come down to find him.

It was his little experiment for the night: He wouldn't go to her. He'd wait. See if she wanted him as much as he always wanted her, especially without those ridiculous Zuxugna demons lumbering about.

Not only had she passed his little test, but she'd also shown him that their relationship wasn't all about sex. In fact, he could swear she'd just treated him like... a boyfriend?

Spike folded his arms behind his head and beamed. "Well, I'll be damned."



More to come...

Buffy was on her back, listening to the sounds of battle.

It killed her that she couldn't fight. Her friends were out there, hacking away at demon parts and casting spells while she lay helpless on the ground. If anything happened to any one of them -- she didn't want to think about it. She couldn't.

This was the most they'd seen so far: close to thirty Zuxugna demons had attacked the gang when they'd happened upon a mating ritual dance on the outskirts of town. There was no time to fuck Spike before hand, and the high concentration of pheromones in the air incapacitated her immediately and completely.

She was drenched. Sweat pooled under her body and her panties were completely soaked.

Spike, Spike, Spike, she thought.

"Raaaaaarrrrrrrgh!" Spike. Killing one near her. "Close your legs, Slayer," she heard him say. "You're givin' us an eyeful."

She couldn't move at all. This sucked.

"Can you move at all?" He was sitting next to her.

"Unh," was all that came out of her mouth.

He carefully closed her legs. "Don't worry, baby," he said sotto voce, "I'll fix you later."

His touch made her absolutely insane. "Sp..."

"Shh, baby. We've almost got them."

Then he was gone.

* * *

"Is she okay?" Willow's voice.

"Slayer's fine. Just gotta get her out of here, away from the mist."

"Has it ever been this bad?"

"No. She can't move or talk." Spike took her up over his shoulder and considerately straightened her skirt.

"Mm," Buffy said, and promptly passed out.

* * *

"Spike?"

Buffy was in the dark. Naked. In her bed?

The heat was unbearable. And she needed Spike.

"Right here, love," he said, fire illuminating his face as he lit a candle and placed it on the bedside table.

"Hot," she said.

"Blackout," he said.

"Need you."

He pulled off his shirt and lay down beside her. "I know, pet."

He slid two fingers into her, pressed her clit with his thumb, and nibbled on her ear.

In seconds, she climaxed.

Buffy waited to snap out of it, but found herself still paralyzed with lust. "More."

Spike searched her face with hooded eyes. "More?"

She nodded.

He kissed her, then kissed all the way down to her pussy. He licked, sucked and teased just the way she liked. She quickly came in his mouth.

"Oh God," she said. "More."

He flipped her over. Watching her ass tremble in front of him, he couldn't help but give it a good slap.

She whimpered, but then said, and he was pretty sure he heard this right: "Yes."

He raised an eyebrow, and ventured another slap.

"Yes!" She pushed into it this time.

Spike smiled rakishly. He backhanded her.

Buffy loved it.

His smile turned sinister. "You don't know what you just got yourself into, love."

He yanked out his belt buckle and snapped it down.

Buffy cried out. The stinging pain brought her more pleasure than she'd ever imagined it could.

He whipped it across her thrice more, making sure to hit between the legs on the last strike. A line of come oozed out of her as she shivered from the sting.

That was it. He had to get inside of her. He unfastened his jeans, looped the belt across her mouth and rammed into her with a shout.

She grunted and bit into the leather.

"That's right," he gruffed. "You're mine." He spanked her again, leaving a pink palm print across her ass.

At that, she came fiercely, her vaginal muscles strangling his cock.

Just as he was about to follow her into oblivion, she struck him with a backwards headbut. He reeled and fell out of her.

She spun around and jumped on him, taking the belt from his grasp, then she quickly looped it around his neck and pulled.

"No," she whispered, challenging him with her eyes. "You're mine."

He had to agree. When it all came down to it, he was irrefutably Buffy's bitch.

She kissed her way down his chest, stopping at his swollen cock. She licked from his balls to the tip and back down again, then took him in slowly, as far as she could go. She knew exactly what made him crazy: opening her throat as she went down, lapping at the base, sucking extra hard as she moved up, suckling the tip. Slow, faster, faster, faster, faster...

Spike silently thanked his lucky stars. Not only did he have Buffy, but he also had the best little cocksucker on God's green earth.

He tried to grasp at the bed, at her head, anything. She still had a pretty tight grip around his neck
-- if he'd needed to breathe he'd have been dead by now.

Of course she knew that only turned him on more.

A few days earlier they'd had an argument about swallowing. She'd never done it for anyone. She thought it was degrading, and besides Riley never wanted her to. Spike reasoned that A) Riley's a pansy; B) how come it's not degrading the other way 'round; and C) she's so good at it already, it'd be that much better if she'd only stay there until the end.

Tonight, she was swallowing. Every spurt, every drop -- every last bit of it into her sweet hot mouth and down her throat and into her belly.

Spike was more in love than ever.

* * *

"Gotta hand it to those demons," Buffy said. "At least they're considerate."

"Hm?" Spike asked as he puffed a stream of hot smoke.

They strolled down Main Street, her arm linked through his. "You know. My demon-sponsored horniness? Doesn't stop 'til I -- y'know... stop."

"Works for me," he said.

"Seriously. Why do you think that is?"

"Dunno. Prob'ly fertilizes the egg or something."

"Ugh! I take it back. Not considerate. Demons bad."

He shrugged. "I like 'em just fine. Got me you, didn't they?"

She unhooked her arm as they approached the Magic Box. "Ready to act natural?"

He shook his head as he dropped his cigarette and stubbed it out. "Against my nature."

"Spike."

"Got it. Natural. Wait, hold on." He shoved her up against a brick wall and kissed her passionately.

"Mmph -- Spike!" She pushed him off.

"Sorry. Had to get that out of the way." He held up a finger beside her head and wiggled it. "What's this?" he whispered with a shocked expression.

The second she looked, he attacked her neck with a sensual growl.

"Why do I fall for that every time?" she asked herself.

"Dunno," he murmured giddily into her neck. His light sucking turned hard and his fingers began to creep up her skirt.

Buffy giggled. "Spike. Off! Off!" She looked in his eyes. "Natural."

"Right." He took a deep breath and made the face of an actor looking for his motivation. "I'm Spike. Buffy hates me, and I've never known the bliss of being between her hot, heavenly thighs."

"Spike! Shush!"

He opened the door for her.

Buffy greeted the gang. "Hi guys!"

"Hey! Look who made it out of Demon Danceteria alive," Xander said, arms outstretched.

"Love the atmosphere," Buffy said, playing along. "Great DJ. But I think someone slipped me a rufie."

"Or seven."

"I know," Buffy grimaced at Xander. "Not a pretty sight, huh?"

"Not the exact phrase I'd choose--"

"Xander!" Anya said, and
Spike narrowed his eyes at the boy as he sat down.

"How are you feeling?" Giles asked Buffy.

"Physically? Completely better," she said, taking a seat next to Spike. "Otherwise? Completely embarrassed."

"It's not your fault you were... like that," Willow said. "We're just glad you're okay."

"I know. You guys did a great job, by the way. Spike told me all about it."

Spike's hand inched over Buffy's naked thigh.

"We kicked horny demon butt," Willow said with a proud smile.

"Willow's almost figured out how to get them home," Tara volunteered.

"Well, I'm workin' on it."

"Fabulous," said Buffy, discreetly pushing Spike's hand away. "How's Dawn?"

"She's--" Dawn walked in from the back room. "--right here," Giles finished.

"Hey guys," Dawn said. "I didn't hear you come in."

"Hey! How's my little worker bee?"

"Buzzing away," she said.

"You can stop buzzing now," Giles said. "It's six o'clock."

"Cool." She put some books down. "What's doing tonight?"

"I don't know," Buffy said. "Giles?"

"Well, I think we should refrain from patrolling for the demons until we've worked out the transference spell."

"Could I possibly be hearing you right?" Buffy asked. "I'm off tonight?"

"Er, yes, you heard right."

Buffy jumped up. "Puh-lay time!"

Spike watched her ass wiggle in his face, and wondered whether she'd get mad if he took a bite out of it.

"But I do expect you back here for training Monday."

"Oh, totally."

"We should all do something," Willow said. "You know, not demon-related."

"Bronze?"

"I... also think you should refrain from being out at night," Giles said to Buffy.

"Boo!" Buffy sat back down.

"He's right, pet," Spike said. "If you don't want to give another exhibition like last night, it's probably best we stay in."

She turned to him with a deer-caught-in-headlights look.

"You stay in," he corrected himself, pointing at her. "'We' as in all of us."

"Yeah," Willow said. "Hey, we can all stay in somewhere together."

"Our place," Xander said, wrapping an arm around Anya. "We're workin' that new technology the kids call DVD. I'm thinkin' maybe some light Jet Li fare followed by a little 'Bring It On'."

Anya and Buffy simultaneously rolled their eyes and groaned. Dawn snickered.

"I haven't seen it," said Tara. "Is it any good?"

"Brilliant picture," Spike volunteered.

Buffy cheered in an unenthusiastic monotone, "Rah, freakin' rah."



More to come...

"Who quieros cheeps y salsa?" Xander asked in a bad Mexican accent, carrying a platter into the living room.

"I do, I do!" Willow raised her hand.

"...Y muchos unidentifiable grayish stuff..." Xander added behind a shielding hand.

"It's called guacamole," Anya corrected, then added proudly to her guests, "I made it myself."

"Well, sometimes gray can be..." Tara looked at the platter, face falling. "...um, I'll have some later. Thanks."

Willow dipped a chip in salsa, avoiding Anya's questionable concoction.

"Give it here," Buffy said, arms outstretched. "It looks yummy, Anya."

"Thank you, Buffy!"

"Mm! And it is! Try this, Spike." She dug a chip into the guacamole and brought it to his waiting mouth, then paused to inspect it. "Is there any garlic in it?"

Buffy waited for an answer, failing to notice how much this unprecedented show of concern had bewildered her friends.

Spike, who did notice, had to restrain himself from tackling Buffy and kissing her breathless.

"No," Anya finally answered, "No garlic. The recipe on the box was all wrong, so I fixed it. I mean, lime juice? Who has that lying around?"

Spike crunched noisily and proclaimed, "Delicioso."

"Lemme try," Dawn said, sitting up from the floor to grab a bite. "Weird, but good."

Anya nudged Xander. "See? They like it."

"I take it all back, honey. You're the goddess of guac." Anya brightened and Xander rubbed his hands together. "So. Shall we begin?"

"What's first?" Willow asked.

"'Romeo Must Die'," he answered excitedly. "Kicks ass! You're gonna love it, Buff."

"Why," mumbled Spike, "'cuz all her Romeos run off and might as well die?"

Mouth full of Tostito, Buffy scoffed. "You're one to talk."

"Sorry, can't hear you with your mouth full." Spike casually motioned for the h'ors deurves tray on the coffee table.

Handing it to him, she said, "I'll give you a mouthful." Remembering that they weren't alone, she covered quickly with, "...of stake."

Xander was incredulous. "Is this the same Buffy I've known since high school? Because if it was, Spike would be a leeettle pile of dust right now."

Buffy gulped audibly. Caught. "Well... that would be messy. And, your couch..."

Xander scrutinized her suspiciously.

"I'm not a robot, Xander. I'm Buffy! The very same Buffy," she thought quickly, "who will love this movie because why?"

Xander's passion for the film got the better of him. "Because of the Matrix-worthy fight scenes, that's why!" He popped the DVD into place. "Behold. A true cinematic gem."

"Is it very violent?" Buffy queried, propelling the subject even further along. "Because Dawn--"

"I think I can handle it, Buffy." Dawn rolled her eyes from her spot on the floor.

"I'll decide whether you can handle it."

"So you're saying I can get sliced and diced by a Hellgod but I can't watch a pretend fight scene?"

Buffy blinked at Dawn.

"She's got a point there," Spike said.

Xander spoke up. "Nothing worse than your everyday slayage, Buffy."

"All right," Buffy allowed and relaxed next to Spike. Maternal mode: off. Secret Lovebunny mode: on. Her shoulder brushed against his. Okay, less bunny, more secret. She quickly put a little space between them on the couch.

Spike didn't look at her, but she saw a smile shoot across his face.

"Everybody comfy?" Xander asked.

"Snug as bugs," Willow confirmed, scooched a ways down on the same long couch, her head resting on Tara's chest. She looked up at her girlfriend. "Do you think bugs can actually be snug?"

"Only when they're in that rug," Tara quipped with a warm smile.

Xander took his place beside Anya on the facing couch and touched a button on the remote. "Now, watch and learn, children."

* * *

"This! This is the part! Watch this!"

The protagonist kicked his opponent in the head, and a special effect followed the internal course of each breaking bone down the spinal cord.

Xander gesticulated wildly at the screen. "Maximum pain!"

The opponent fell to the ground in a lifeless heap.

"'Cor, that was beautiful," Spike said, eyes misting.

Buffy scowled. "You think it's beautiful? Breaking bones are beautiful to you."

"Well, yeah." He used his hands to illustrate. "I've only ever heard it, you know, the crunching. Be nice to see it like that -- all close and personal, like."

"I know," Buffy suggested in a sweet voice, "how 'bout I take you to an X-Ray machine and kick your ass?" She leaned in and added saucily, "All close and personal, like."

He smirked at her. "Now that wouldn't do. I wouldn't get to see it. But if you take Xander here..."

"Hey! How 'bout I kick both your asses if you don't shut up?"

Vampire and Slayer turned to him, brows raised.

Xander stuttered, "Not you, Buff. Just him."

"Why me? She bloody started--"

Buffy covered Spike's mouth and whispered, "Sorry Xan. We'll be quiet now."

Xander sheepishly turned his attention back to the screen.

Buffy sat back and crossed her legs. Spike coughed as her skirt tumbled back slightly, revealing a smooth, golden thigh.

He bit his lip, controlling his immediate urge to touch her, to roll his fingers slowly upwards, to explore her hot, supple skin.

Bathroom, maybe? he thought quickly, considering the options. Balcony? All would be too obvious. Unless--

Buffy caught his gaze, startling him out of his wanton thoughts.

Oh hell, you're in trouble now, he told himself with a sigh.

A tiny smile curled her lips.

Or not... He cocked an eyebrow.

She looked him in the eye, and shivered. "I'm freezing," she announced loudly, and plucked the woolen throw off the back of the couch.

"I could turn down the A/C," Xander offered.

"No, this is fine," she said quickly, covering her lap and purposely flopping the throw over Spike's closest arm.

Why you little vixen. Spike was thoroughly impressed.

She flashed him another quick smile.

He surveyed the room and found everyone deeply engrossed in the climax of the film.

Spike grinned. It was time for a little climax of their own.

Slowly, he inched his hand towards her leg. As he swept upwards, Buffy's head made tiny indiscernable nods. She was shaking with anticipation. Bonus.

When he was sure that no one was looking, he dove lightning-quick inside the elastic of her panties.

Dipping his finger into her once, he found her swollen nerve center and administered one good tap. She bolted upright.

At that motion, Willow glanced at Buffy, who immediately gave the impression of someone absorbed in a cinematic experience.

Careful not to move his hand too much under the blanket, Spike gently circled her clit, listening and waiting. When she finally held her breath, he rubbed just a touch harder.

As the credits began to roll, Buffy let out an, "OH!"

Everyone looked at her.

"Yeah." She exhaled deeply. "Good movie."

"What'd I say?" Xander prodded.

"Very gemmy," Buffy confirmed, attempting to sound normal.

Intoxicated by the knowledge that he'd just made Buffy come in front of all her little friends, Spike smugly sat back, pulled his hand away and grabbed a Tostito, smothering it with both sauces. After his bite, he sucked on his finger and said to Buffy, "Mmm, good combo."

"I'm the guacamole goddess," Anya said.

Xander rubbed his fiancée's shoulder affectionately. "That's my girl."

That's MY girl, Spike thought proudly as he watched Buffy come down, eyes a little glazed, cheeks just a little flushed.

"Aaliyah is SO cool," Dawn said, perusing the DVD jacket.

"She really is," Willow agreed.

"Is that so?" Tara teased, nudging her girlfriend.

"Well, no, I mean, as an actress."

"Uh-huh," Tara said. "She's a master thespian."

"A master what-now?" Willow asked, and they both fell into giggles.

"I'm the master lesbian," Tara joked. "She's the thespian."

They doubled over in hysterics.

"Oh good," Anya said briskly. "Lesbian humor."

"You know," Tara explained, body quaking. "Lesbian? Thesp--"

"No, I get it," Anya spoke over her, nodding, stonefaced. "It rhymes. Xander? The next movie?"

"I'm on it," Xander said, rummaging through his selection. "Let's see... rugged Romans or romping cheerleaders?"

"Romping cheerleaders," Willow and Tara voted enthusiastically.

Spike agreed, "I'm with them."

"Bring it!" Dawn whooped.

"Anya? Buffy?"

"Whatever," they grudgingly answered in unison, then glanced at one another.

"'Bring It On' it is."

* * *

"Wow," Willow said, pointing at the new character who appeared on the screen. "She looks sorta like Faith!"

"No, she looks exactly like Faith," Anya established.

Spike was hit by sudden comprehension. "Oh-ho!"

"What?" Xander asked him.

"Nothing," Spike answered, eyes fixed on Buffy, who sat with her arms crossed and face blank.

"I just don't see it," Xander said, squinting at the TV.

"How can you not see it?" Willow said. "She's like, the spitting image! Right, Buffy?"

"I guess so," Buffy replied with great disinterest.

"And where's this Faith bird now?" Spike pressed, trying to get a reaction from his seatmate.

"In jail," Willow grumbled. "Where she belongs."

"Ooh, a bad girl." Spike saw Buffy's knee jerk, and continued. "I like bad girls."

Xander laughed. "You two? Made for each other. Match made in Hell."

"You think?" Spike asked, speculatively rubbing his chin.

"Oh yeah," Xander replied. "She's psychotic, you're psychotic... It's perfect, really."

Willow laughed.

Spike noticed Buffy's knee jerking in steady rhythm. "Maybe I'll arrange a conjugal visit sometime."

"Believe me," Xander confided, "So not worth it. But then again, you'd probably go for..." His eyes darted to an increasingly miffed Anya. "Milkshakes."

Spike chuckled. "Milkshakes? Really?"

Suddenly, Buffy stood and walked out to the balcony, sliding the door behind her with a loud bang.

"What's up with her?" Anya asked.

"I don't know," Willow said with concern, hazarding a glance at Spike.

"I'll go see," Spike volunteered with an overburdened sigh. "Time for a smoke break anyway."

Buffy was standing by the far railing, her back to him.

"Hey," Spike said softly. "I was only messin' around in there."

"Whatever, Spike."

He took a step closer and reached out to touch her hair. "Baby--"

She jerked away, refusing to look at him.

Spike couldn't help but laugh at her fierce jealousy. "Buffy, I was just kidding! You're the only one I--"

"God, can you be any louder?" she hissed angrily.

He lowered his voice. "Baby, listen to me."

"Why?" She spun to face him. "So you can make more funny jokes about fucking my archrival? Because so not laughing here."

"That's not--" He growled in frustration. How could she be so dense as to think he wanted anyone but her? "Look. If I knew it would bother you this much--"

"It doesn't bother me, okay?" she said emotionlessly. "Just forget it." With that, she turned and left him there, alone on the balcony.

"Pfff," Spike exhaled through his teeth, shaking his head. "Good going, mate."

He decided to have that cigarette after all. And maybe a few more after that.

* * *

Buffy heard Spike at her bedroom door, trying to turn the knob. Ha. Locked out. She heard his footsteps retreating and settled against her pillow. So there.

She tried to sleep, but the image of Spike passionately intertwined with Faith was emblazoned on her brain. She hated this. First Angel, then Riley... and now she had to worry about Spike.

But this was real worry, based on fact: Spike had a thing for slayers. And bad girls. Faith was a slayer gone bad who would eventually get out of jail, and most likely return to Sunnydale. And knowing Faith, she'd be all over the prospect of taking Buffy's man.

Xander's words rang loud and clear: "Then again, you'd probably go for..." Yup, he probably would. Buffy had to face it: Spike liked to be freaky in bed, and Faith was naturally freaky -- without the aid of horny demons. AND he thinks she's pretty. Bastard.

The sound of metal slicing across metal roused her from her thoughts. He was back at the door again. In a second, he'd unlocked it, and stood there wielding a butter knife.

So much for security.

"Spike!" she stage-whispered. "What part of 'locked' don't you understand?"

"None of it, I'm afraid," he said with a rakish smile, dropping the knife on her dresser.

How dare he break in here, with his shirt off and his hair all messy and... "Get out."

"No." He moved closer.

"Leave me alone."

"Won't get rid of me that easy," he said, crawling up the bed.

"I mean it," she insisted.

He was pulling her sheet down, slowly, exposing her nude form. "Then why are you so naked?"

"Because this is how I sleep."

"If you really didn't want me here," he drawled, hand sliding down her inner thigh, "You wouldn't let me do this."

It wasn't fair. Her double crossing body was much too receptive to his touch.

Caressing her slick labia, he said, "So swollen. Must be expecting a visitor."

She clamped her legs shut and willed her body to stop. "Visiting hours are over."

He chuckled and slipped a finger in. "Then why is the door still open?"

She slapped his hand away and rolled onto her side, back to him. "I mean it. I don't even wanna look at you."

"Buffy. Baby. Don't be this way."

"I am this way. Deal with it."

"Why?" he asked earnestly, touching her hair.

She sighed. "Because Faith is..."

"No one to me," he finished.

"You don't understand. It's like Xander said. You and her... perfect match. You're the same."

"Buffy, we're the same." He shook her shoulder. "You and me."

"Now you're being delusional."

"No, I'm bein' honest. And you'd do well to admit it sometime."

"What are you talking about? You're just trying to change the subject."

"This is the subject. We're the perfect mates -- you and me."

"Spike, we're polar opposites. We have nothing in common."

He sighed and rolled onto his back. "If you say so."

"If you met her..."

"Buffy. I have met her. I didn't like her."

"What?" Buffy turned to face him. "You said you never saw her before."

"I didn't. See her. I met her when she was prancin' about in your body."

Buffy's brow furrowed. "How'd you know it wasn't me?"

"Word does get out, love. Anyway, it all made sense, in hindsight."

"What'd she say?"

"Well..." he hedged, sorry he'd brought it up. "That's not important, is it?"

"Since you put it that way, I'd say YES."

He sighed. "She came on to me."

Buffy's voice rose in anger. "She did what?"

"Nothing happened. The bint teased me mercilessly, then left me high and dry -- just when I was thinkin' you'd go for me, too."

"You must've hated that," she said sarcastically. "This really isn't helping..."

"Buffy, in the three minutes I got to know to her, I learned that Faith tortures people for fun, doesn't care about anyone but herself, and underneath her Badass bluff there's a miserable, confused mess just beggin' for intensive therapy." He topped it off with, "Not my type of girl."

"I thought that was just your type," she teased.

"Who are we talking about here?" he teased back, curling a lock of her hair around his fingertips.

Buffy searched his eyes in the dim light. "You really didn't like her?"

"Not one little bit."

"But you didn't like me either--"

"You I hated with a passion. That's different."

She smiled. "Promise?"

He nodded, and moved in to plant a feathery kiss on her lips. "Promise."

She remembered something she'd said when they were under a spell, something about fighting to cover up how they really felt. And now she felt... what, exactly?

"Spike," she whispered.

"Shhh." He captured her mouth with his. "Don't say any more."

She gave in. Make-up sex now, thinking later.

* * *

"Buffy, Buffy, Buffy, Buffy," he said her name with each blinding thrust.

Hazily, she noticed the sound of the headboard banging against her wall. "Spike..."

"Buffy..."

"Spike, the pillow..."

Without breaking his rhythm, he looked down at her and realized she was saying something relevant. "Wha'?"

"We forgot... the pillow..."

"Right. Pillow." He grabbed one from behind her head and stuffed it behind the headboard. He tested it to be sure the sound was muffled. "Better?"

"Better," she said, smiling up at him.

God, she looked beautiful when she smiled. Especially when he was the source of it. He loved the sight of her in exquisite agony, but he adored the sight of her grinning from ear to ear. She truly enjoyed sex. And he was the lucky bloke who got to enjoy it with her.

He watched a vein bulge in her neck, and bent down to catch it, to feel it pulse in his mouth.

As she felt his blunt teeth on her skin, something occurred to Buffy. She knew she had to try it.

Keeping him inside of her, she reversed their positions and went for his neck, biting hard enough to draw blood.

In shock, Spike flailed beneath her. Buffy was biting him? Buffy was biting HIM!

He grasped her bare hips and surged. "Fuckk -- Buff--"

His enthusiastic reaction was worth the unsavory taste of blood. It was worth anything.

Suddenly, he convulsed wildly and a bellowing roar pierced the air.

Buffy's head popped up. She covered his mouth, but it was too late. The damage had been done.

As she stared at him with an expression of pure fear, the consequences of his indiscretion hit him. Dawn. Shit.

They stayed completely still for several seconds. When she finally let go of his mouth she admonished, "Spike!"

He gave her his most innocent look. "What do you expect?! You BIT me!"

Buffy covered her own mouth, horrified. She'd bit him, and made him yell loud enough to wake the dead. So much about that was bad. And funny. She started to twitch with laughter, snorting through her fingers.

It was infectious. Spike began to laugh too. She toppled forward and giggled into the pillow beside him.

He felt her still wet, still throbbing walls quaking around him.

"C'mere, you," he said, and rolled them around. "I'm not finished with you yet."

"Oh, good," Buffy said with a silly grin.

He slid down her body.

"Very... very... good..."



More to come...

A/N: Yeah, I totally called the whole Billy Idol-stole-Spike's-look thing. *flex* Also: This scene was written long before 'As You Were'. I like my version better. ;)



"Do ya love me babe
What do ya say?"

The first thing Buffy saw were the CDs scattered all over her bed. Then she saw him, facing her stereo, indirect sunlight shining in his hair.

"Do ya love me babe
What can I say?"

He was singing along. Badly.

She couldn't help but smile. "Spike?"

He whipped around, dropping an empty tape container and a pen.

Sweet little girl
I wanna be your boyfr--

He cut off the music. "You're back early."

"I came to pick up a book for Giles. Whatcha doin'?"

"I was... makin' a tape." He looked at the floor and back to her. "For you."

"Trying to get me to like your lame music now?"

"No. Tellin' you how I feel through song, all that sort of rot."

"Ah." She approached the bed and read names like Sex Pistols, The Clash, Buzzcocks. "Romantic Punk. My favorite genre," she said glibly.

"Punk can be romantic," he said. "If you listen to it the right way."

"Oh yeah?" she said, secretly touched by the gesture. No one had ever made her a mix tape before. "So put that one back on."

"Uh... weren't supposed to hear that one 'til the end," he said shyly.

He has it in some kind of order? Spike never stopped surprising her. "So play it from the beginning." She flung the bag off her shoulder.

"Alright." He flipped the tape over and rewound.

She sat on the bed and picked up a CD. "This guy kinda looks like you."

"Knew him back in the day. Soddin' git robbed my look then made a play for Dru."

Buffy frowned. "He's human. Why didn't you eat him?"

He answered as if it should have been obvious, "I liked the boy's music."

The tape stopped.

He introduced the first song by saying simply, "First time we fought."

Buffy locked eyes with Spike and listened as a quiet guitar arpeggio began the song. A driving drumbeat followed. Surprisingly, she didn't hate it.

I never thought too hard on dying before
I never sucked on the dying
I never licked the side of dying before
And now I'm feeling the dying

She smiled and stood. Moving closer, she teased his mouth with hers as she listened.

You've got your hands over your ears
You've got your mouth running on
You've got your eyes looking for something
That will never be found -- like a reason
And I don't need a reason

The heat between them was nearly palpable.

"What I tell you," he rasped. "Romantic."

Give me the shot
Give me the pill
Give me the cure
Now what you've done to my world

She pushed him onto the bed.

* * *

"Buffy?" Dawn called. "Buffy are you here? Giles needs his book!"

As she closed the front door behind her, she heard loud music coming from the second floor.

I am a patient boy
I wait I wait I wait I wait

Must be Spike, she thought. Buffy'd never listen to that crap.

She followed the sound up to Buffy's closed door. "Spike?"

As her hand wrapped around the knob, she heard something over the music. Two separate voices, making the same harsh, guttural moans. And the bed squeaking.

She recoiled. "Oh. Yuck."

Feeling slightly nauseous, Dawn made her way back down the stairs. Somehow she had to figure out what to tell Giles. Or maybe they were almost done, and she could wait outside until the music stopped. Either way, she had to get out of the house.

She opened the front door, and gasped.

"Riley!"

* * *

"Did you hear a noise?" Spike cocked his head.

Buffy stopped for a second. Everyone was at the Magic Box -- who could it possibly be? "No."

Spike shrugged, then flipped Buffy onto her back.

* * *

"Riley! Oh my God! You're back!" Dawn jumped forward and hugged him, steering him away from the door.

"Dawn, hi," he said, smiling. "I didn't think you'd be this happy to see me."

"I am!" She began to close the door behind her. "But I was just leaving! I'm looking for Buffy, she's not here. Wanna come with?"

"Okay, but, first -- I wanted to say how sorry I am about..."

Dawn softened. "Mom. Yeah. It was--. Yeah. When did you find out?"

"Just now. I ran into Xander outside the magic shop. I would've come back sooner if I'd known. We were completely cut off down there."

"That's okay."

"How's Buffy? She's... doing okay?"

"She's dealing." She grabbed his arm. "Let's go."

"Don't you want to turn off the music first?" Riley pointed upwards.

"The what?"

"Isn't that coming from upstairs?"

"Oh, that! That's my music. I'm really into... that stuff."

He looked at her expectantly.

"Oh, I'm leaving it on. I'm making a tape, and--"

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Riley listened. That wasn't music.

Neither was the noise that followed: a long, high-pitched, euphoric release.

Riley paled visibly. He knew that voice. He'd heard that voice make that sound before. He'd just... never heard it so loud. "Buffy?"

He looked at the mortified girl before him, then recklessly pushed past her.

"Riley! No!" Dawn yelled.

Riley rushed up the stairs, two steps at a time.

The music got louder. He recognized the song.

What set you free
And brought you to me, babe

He stopped at Buffy's closed door.

What set you free?
I need you here by me

The lyric made him shake with rage.

She cried more, more, more

With an unsteady hand, he twisted the brass doorknob.

With a rebel yell
She cried more, more, more

Some part of him knew he shouldn't open the door. But something stronger propelled him. He had to see it.

He had to see them together.

Clenching his teeth, Riley pushed the door open.

I'd give you all
And have none, babe
Justa, justa, justa, justa
To have you here by me

Spike knelt on the bed, hands hooked under Buffy's knees. She was bowed backwards, her fingers limply grazing the floor.

Spike drove into her possessively, growling with each thrust. Buffy's eyes were tightly shut as she bucked and shuddered beneath him.

Beneath Spike.

With a rebel yell
She cried more, more, more

Riley could have left then. They hadn't so much as sensed another presence in the room. But his anger paralyzed him.

Spike's growls reached a crescendo.

Buffy quickly flipped up and tossed Spike onto his back without breaking the penetration. Her mouth found Spike's neck. Spike roared animalistically, digging his fingers into Buffy's waist.

Riley waited.

Oh yeah, little baby
She want more

Spike was the first to notice him. Instantly he morphed, demon features emerging, a territorial rumble escaping from his throat. Buffy turned.

Oh yeah, little angel
She want more

"R--" was all she could sound out, before he turned and walked out.

More, more, more, more, more!

Buffy stared at the door.

"Oh god," she whispered as she felt her stomach sink.

She looked down at Spike, still in vamp face.

She tried to get up, but he held her. "No!" she snapped. "Off, let me off!"

She jumped up.

His human mask slowly returned as he watched her warily.

"Oh god. Oh god!" Buffy whimpered, pulling her hair back and holding her neck nervously.

Spike propped himself up against the headboard and wished for a smoke.

She looked at him and yelled, "Why the hell are you so calm?"

"Not my ex, pet."

"Oh, that's nice." A song vaguely familiar to Buffy had started.

Darling you got to let me know
Should I stay or should I go

"Will you turn that shit off?"

If you say that you are mine
I'll be here 'til the end of--

Spike reached over and hit the stop button.

"Buffy. Calm down."

"Calm down? You want me to calm down? Were you even here a minute ago?"

He shrugged. "Caught him in a compromising position before."

"That's different -- this is different."

"Why? 'Cause it's you this time?"

"No! Because it's us!" She pointed between them. "Because it's you."

He looked at her questioningly.

She paced around the room. "God, what am I doing? This whole fucking thing is crazy!"

Spike reeled as if he'd been slapped.

"I can't do this anymore," she told herself. "I just can't."

Anger rose in his body like hot liquid filling an ice-cold glass.

"Oh, I get it," he said, standing. "It's alright for me to stay the dirty little secret in your head. For us to be slinkin' around in the dark."

"Shut up, Spike. You don't know what you're talking--"

"Soon as we creep into the light of day, it just proves the truth." He cradled his balls for emphasis. "You're depraved."

"Spike, don't," Buffy warned.

"That's right!" he hollered. "You're a monster lover! Admit it!" He met her face to face and lowered his voice. "You can't come unless you're bein' bitten or bruised."

She slapped him. "Fuck you."

He narrowed his eyes. "Just did."

"Get out of my house," Buffy spat and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

Spike stared at the door for a minute. "Bitch!" he roared, hitting the stereo with his fist. Music suddenly blared out of it.

If I go there will be trouble
If I stay there will be double

"Right." He grabbed his pants, shirt and the embroidered quilt off her bed. "I'm gone."






More, more, more, more, more...

"Fuck."

Buffy stood under a stream of hot water, banging her head against the cold tile with each expletive. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."

What the hell is Riley doing back now? How could I ever explain this to him?

She exhaled and said out loud, "What's to explain. It's pretty obvious."

I'm a monster lover.

Frustrated, she hit the wall with an open palm.

Who do you think you are, a goddamn psychic? Always think you know everything about me -- you don't know me! I know me!

...Most of the time.

She sighed.

"He's right," she said. "As usual."

Whatever. I'm so not apologizing first.

Buffy stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself on her way back to her room.

As she stared at her disheveled bed, she was surprised by her sister's voice.

"Buffy?"

"Dawn? When did you get home?"

"Uh, I've kinda been here a while. Since... Riley."

"Oh." Buffy nodded and looked away. "Yeah. Riley."

"I'm so sorry, I really tried to stop him."

"It's, it's okay." She rummaged through a drawer, not knowing what she was looking for. "It's not your fault."

"I wouldn't have even been here if Giles didn't need that stupid book so badly."

"Oh, god. I totally forgot about Giles!"

"It's okay, he came by to pick it up."

Buffy's eyes widened.

"While you were in the shower," Dawn clarified. "I told him that Riley came back and you were a little freaked. He understood."

She smiled. "Thanks."

"Are you... okay?"

Buffy answered honestly. "Not really."

"Are you gonna go after him?"

"He's... not gonna be in the mood to talk for a long while," she said, referring to Riley with a bitter smile. "That I know for a fact."

"Are you kidding?" Dawn asked, amazed that her sister had no idea just how whipped Spike really was. "He'll be back tonight with flowers or candy or something."

"It's a little more complicated than that. The reason Riley ran out of here was... complicated." She steeled herself. "There's... something you should know."

"What's to know?" Dawn said with a shrug. "You and Spike are doing it."

Buffy looked horrified. "Did you see something?"

Dawn rolled her eyes. "I didn't have to."

"You heard something?"

"Buffy," she said. "I've known for like, weeks now. It doesn't take a genius. Spike's been weirdly giddy and you... Well, you're always making up some lame excuse to be with him. Plus there's the whole, 'stay over at Willow's', 'stay over at Xander's' thing."

"That wasn't to get you out of the house -- I was really concerned about those demons!" Buffy caved at her sister's expression. "At first."

Dawn folded her arms and smirked.

"So you're... okay with this?"

"For some weird reason, yeah." Feeling compelled to work in a little sibling rivalry, Dawn added with a tilt of her chin, "Even though I liked him first."

Buffy pursed her lips and lifted an eyebrow.

"So over it, by the way. He's way too old for me."

Buffy snorted.

"Plus it'd never work with him all ga-ga over my sister."

"He is kinda ga-ga isn't he?"

"Kinda? It's sickening how ga-ga he is. He's all," faking a British cockney accent, Dawn quoted, "'Only if big sis thinks its alroight!' 'Whot does big sis loike fah breakfast?'" She added a little jig for accompaniment. "'Patrollin' with big sis tonoite!' Ugh! Hurl-worthy."

"Him or your accent?" Buffy teased.

Dawn smiled and asked, "So... What are you gonna do?"

"I don't know. I screwed up. I told him to leave." Buffy sighed and sat on her bed. "And I'm guessing he left?"

"A few minutes after Riley."

"God!" Buffy threw her hands in the air. "Who does he think he is, leaving when I tell him to? And walking out in daylight, no less!" She stomped to her dresser and grabbed some clothing. "Doesn't he realize he's a vampire?"

* * *

Spike's crypt was empty.

"Where else would you be?" Buffy asked the dank air.

She felt a bolt of fear. What if he lost the blanket and...

No, she told herself. He's not stupid. He can take care of himself. That's why I like him.

A crazy thought crossed her mind: But what if I hurt him so much he didn't want to live anymore?

Spike did have a flair for the melodrama. And he was outrageously stubborn. But it had to take more than a slap and a couple of harsh words to drive him to suicide... Right?

Now if I can just find him I'll kick his ass for making me worry.

* * *

"Oh no, not you again."

Buffy scanned the bar. "This isn't business, Willy."

"Oh? You want a drink? I'd have to see some I.D. though--"

"Has Spike been here today?"

"Spike? Vampire Spike?"

Buffy nodded.

"Nah. Demons don't like him hangin' around here. He came a few weeks ago, askin' questions--"

Buffy turned to leave.

"Same thing I told your soldier; I don't know why you people never believe me."

She paused. "My soldier? Riley was here?"

"Yeah, uh, yey tall, brown hair, baby face? He left here about a, a half hour ago."

Buffy walked out. "Thanks."

* * *

"I've never seen you here before," the girl in Spike's lap cooed.

"Play your cards right, you might see me again."

"Mmm... I like your accent," she said, gyrating harder.

"And I like your... hips," he said, moving to caress them.

"Hey! Buddy! No touching!" the big burly guy standing three feet away said. "Fish Tank policy."

"I could let you touch me," she whispered in his ear. "If you come downstairs with me."

"I bet that'll cost me," he said.

"A little. But it'll be fun." She ran her fingers through his tousled hair. "Anything goes."

"Maybe later, sweet bit," he murmured seductively into her neck.

"Ooh. That accent!"

"Time's up," the big burly guy said.

The girl kissed his cheek. "I'll be back for you, sexy."

He winked at her before she walked away, and took a swig of his eighth or ninth beer.

When he opened his eyes again, Riley was standing in front of him, trembling. Every muscle in his body seemed to be tightly wound.

Oh, hell.

"So this is how you treat her?"

"Relax, boy. Have a seat. Talk about old ti--"

In a flash, Riley dove down to grab Spike's shirt collar. Nose to nose, his sweat dripped onto the vampire's face. "I am not your boy."

At Spike's amused expression, Riley picked him up and threw him against the stage. A half-naked girl hopped backwards.

"Alright, you two, take it outside!"

"There's an idea," Riley growled to Spike. "Why don't we take it outside."

It was still light out.

"Hey," Spike said to the bouncer, arms up. "I got no trouble here. I'm a payin' customer. On my way downstairs."

"Alright. You. Out," the bouncer said to Riley.

Spike smiled, victorious.

"She doesn't love you," Riley said before he turned and left.

The victorious smile slowly faded.

Once, while escaping from a sinking ship, Spike encountered a school of Portuguese man-of-war jellyfish. Their constricting tentacles injected enough poison into his body to kill ten men, and he was certain that he'd felt the most painful sting of his life.

He was wrong.

Swinging around, Spike stopped a girl with a tray. "Oi. Jack, straight up."



More to come...

Buffy was officially worried.

She'd scoured every one of Spike's haunts and kept coming up empty. No one had seen or heard from him all day. "You know he's a vampire, right?" one bar owner had asked. "They can't travel around in sunlight."

"Spike can," Buffy had said.

At her wit's end, she figured she'd check in at the magic shop. Ask about Spike, apologize for flaking. Kill two birds.

Pushing past a few customers, Buffy sidled up to the cash register.

Anya looked uncomfortable. "Hello, Buffy. If you're buying something you'll have to go to the end of the line."

"I'm not. Buying anything. Just -- Did Spike come by here today?"

"No. But we ran into your ex-boyfriend, Riley. He's alive," she announced. "We told him to stop by your house."

"Yeah. Thanks for that," she said, confident that Anya wouldn't catch the sarcasm.

"You're welcome." She grinned. "You should leave now. There are paying customers on line."

"Where's Giles?"

"In the back."

She walked into the training room and saw Giles poring excitedly over that book. Evil book.

"Hi."

"Oh, hello, Buffy." He removed his glasses. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. Sorry about the book."

"It's quite alright. I'm more concerned about you. I spoke to Dawn--"

"Yeah." She sat down next to him. "Riley. Momentary freakout. No concern necessary."

"Are you sure? I must say you seem a little out of sorts."

"Yeah. My sorts are... out. A little. But I'll be okay."

"It must have been very hard to see him again. After all that's passed."

Buffy sighed. "Understatement." She got up. "But let's not talk about that. Find anything in the book?"

"Yes, actually, I've just discovered--"

"Did Spike come by here?"

"What?"

"Today. You didn't see Spike, did you?"

"N-no."

"Okay. Just wondering. Go on. New discovery."

"Y-yes." He looked at her and replaced his glasses. "Ah, Willow. Perfect timing."

"What'd you find?" Willow said. "Hey, Buffy."

"Hey, Will."

"I believe I've found a way to get our Zuxugnas home."

"Great!" said Willow.

"Finally," Buffy said, biting a nail. "I'm sick of being their bitch."

The two looked at her. Buffy cowed and said, "Go on."

"We'll start with the location spell..."

Buffy missed several important demon-banishing details as Giles filled them in.

Her mind was on someone else.

* * *

"Buffy," Willow said once they were alone. "I heard about Riley."

"What did you hear?"

"That he's back," she answered innocently. "And that he went over to your house, and, and you freaked a little."

Good. The PG version. "Yes. Freak-o-rama."

"What happened?"

"Oh, god. Just... everything." Buffy's eyes welled up. Talking to her old friend and confidante made her want to spill completely.

"What? You can tell me."

"Um," she wiped a tear away. "It's not -- This isn't just about Riley. I mean, not really."

Willow searched her friend's expression.

"When Riley came to see me," she ventured, "Spike was there?"

Understanding flooded Willow's features. "Oh..."

"And... and we were... we were..."

"In the middle of something?"

Buffy nodded, unable to look at Willow's reaction. "And I was just so freaked I said all this stuff I didn't mean. I told him to get out of my house. In daylight..."

"And he left?"

"Uh-huh." She peered at Willow through her hands.

"We're talking about Spike, now, right?"

"Yeah." Willow didn't look the least bit surprised. "I guess you knew, too?"

"I kinda figured it out."

"How?" Buffy dabbed at her eyes.

"Well," Willow started cautiously, "there's the whole horny demon thing and, how you'd only patrol with Spike to kill them. That was kinda an indication. The jibes, too? Not so jibey lately. More... jokey than jibey. Oh, and your wardrobe has pretty much gotten Spike-friendly--"

"Okay. I get it." Buffy pouted. "I thought we were being so sneaky."

"Not really." Then she added helpfully, "But sneaky is fun, even if you just think you are."

"Guess the fun's over." Buffy suddenly looked frightened. "Does everybody know?"

"Well, Giles can't group you two in the same sentence anymore without... wincing."

Buffy blanched. "Great. And Xander?"

"Well, he's pretty much clueless unless you put on a three-act play in front of him."

"No, he just pretends he is. Oh!" she moaned. "I keep falling in love with vampires! You must think I'm totally sick."

"No, Buffy!... You're just following your heart." Willow leaned in to her friend and touched her arm. "It's not like it was a while ago when it wouldn't have made any sense for you two to have something. So much has changed in such a short time."

"You can say that again."

"Me and Tara were talking about this a few days ago. We were saying that, in a way, Spike's a lot like Anya. They sometimes wish they could get their powers back, but... I don't think either of them would trade it for what they have now."

Buffy smiled.

"Granted, Spike's still got a monster somewhere in him, but, I don't know -- who doesn't?"

"But what if," she leaned in close. "What if I like the monster?"

"Wh-what do you mean?"

Buffy looked around to make sure they were alone. "What if I like it when he's all... vampy? And... bitey. In... bed."

Willow knit her brow. "Is that what you're worried about?"

"No?" Buffy lied.

"Buffy. Don't ever feel guilty about what... turns you on. It's all, you know," Willow did a little raise-the-roof dance in her seat for emphasis, "for a good cause."

Buffy laughed.

"Plus, if you love him? No shame in that game." She flicked her wrist. "Go team."

"Love?" Buffy asked defensively. "Who said anything about love?"

"You did. Just a, a minute ago."

"I did?" Buffy moaned and dropped her head in her hands.

"Buffy, it's okay to love him," Willow said. "He's been... good for you. I never thought I'd hear myself say this, but Spike seems to really... make you happy."

"Then why do I feel so miserable right now?"

"Because you miss him?"

Buffy mock-scowled at her friend's insight. "Stop being so smart."

"Sorry."

"Willow, I can't find him anywhere."

"Bars?"

"Practically the first place I looked." She rolled her eyes. "I know -- my boyfriend's an alcoholic."

"Only when he's got the love problems," Willow smiled.

"What do I do now?"

"I'm sure he'll turn up, Buffy. We all know he can't stay away from you for long. He might just need some alone time. You know, to reflect on the terrible yet truthful things I'm sure he said."

"Got that right."

"Anyway, it was just a fight. You'll be kissing and making up and playin' 'Bite the Buffy' in no time. E-except without him biting too much and you biting back. That could be bad."

Buffy laughed. "Thanks, Will." She hugged her best friend. "You're the best."

"Remember, when all else fails, grovel."

"Puttin' on my grovelin' shoes."

* * *

"Bitch wants me to grovel? Wants me to come back begging?"

"That's not right," said the naked woman who was riding Spike's clothed, prone body.

Spike watched red lights bounce off a mirror ball onto the four walls surrounding them. "Yeah. A bloody demon whore, she is!" He closed his eyes to stop the spinning.

The girl laughed. "That's a new one."

"She is!" He looked at the girl on top of him. "I'm a vampire, you know."

"Really?" she asked with mock interest.

"Yeah, I'll show you." He tried to change his face, but nothing happened. He was totally stewed. "Oh, bugger me backwards."

"What am I gonna see?" she said, expertly containing her laughter.

"Nothing. You'd get all scared anyway. You'd run, 'AAAA!'"

"I would, huh?"

He smiled wistfully. "She doesn't run. Doesn't get scared."

"Who?"

"Buffy! She's a slayer, for god's sake!" Spike slurred.

"Your girlfriend's name is Buffy."

"Not my girlfriend. Not my bloody girlfriend. She'll never be that."

"I'm sorry," she said with little emotion.

"Likes monsters but she won't admit it. Why won't she just bloody admit it?"

"I don't know, baby," she said, leading his hands to her breasts. "Good girls always go for the bad boys."

"That's what I'm sayin'!" he agreed, kneading at her thick brown nipples. "Just 'cause I'm a vampire and she's the bloody Slayer, just 'cause I never got cursed with a bloody soul like the bloody poofter--"

"I don't know what you're talking about but I still like the sound of your voice."

"Must be new in town," he surmised.

"Just moved here six months ago."

"You'll be someone's lunch soon enough," he sighed.

"Someone's lunch?"

"Yeah. But," he looked at her and touched her hair, a sentimental wave crashing over him, "I like you. I don't think you should get eaten."

"Well, me neither."

"Listen to me, pet. Don't come down here with anyone," he took her hand to his face, "with skin cold as mine."

She frowned at him, bemused.

"I'm serious. Take that bit of advice and you won't get killed."

She nodded. "Thanks, I think."

"See what she's done to me?" Spike said with a laugh. "She's given me a bloody soul."

* * *

"Spike?"

"Not Spike."

"Riley?" Buffy approached him cautiously. "What are you doing in Spike's crypt?"

"I'm waiting for him."

"Why?"

"So I can kill him."

"You're not killing anyone."

"He and I had an understanding," he said shakily.

She rolled her eyes. "Riley. This is not between you and him. This is between you and me."

"We have nothing to talk about."

"We have a lot--"

"I don't want to hear it."

"Oh, you don't?" She continued angrily, fists clenched, "Well, hear this. My world has done a one-eighty since you left. My mom died, all of my friends almost died, and some bitch-god cut up my sister to open a portal to every hellish dimension in existence." She took a breath. "But guess who's been at my side through all of this, willing to fight to the death."

Riley swallowed.

"Yeah. Spike." She glared at him. "So don't come back here, expecting to take up shop in my life again, busting in on me in my private moments and deciding to kill the one person I need more than anyone because it'll make you feel better."

"Buffy--"

"No. You know what? You're right. We have nothing to talk about."

She walked out and slammed the door.


More to come...

A jewel case cracked under Buffy's shoe.

She picked it up, and the first thing that caught her eye was the song title EVER FALLEN IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE (YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE FALLEN IN LOVE WITH)?

"Uh, yeah?" she answered in her empty room.

She found the insert of the tape Spike was making. Sure enough, one of the songs he'd written in his crazy punkrock vampire handwriting was EvEr faLLen?? BUzzCocKS. It was the second to last song, right before something indecipherable by the Ramones. Curious about the lyrics, she popped the CD in and listened closely.

You spurn my natural emotions
You make me feel like dirt... and I'm hurt
And if I start a commotion
I run the risk of losing you... and that's worse

The singer repeated:

Ever fallen in love with someone, ever fallen in love
In love with someone, ever fallen in love
In love with someone you shouldn't've fallen in love with

"So what are you trying to say?" she asked with a smirk.

I can't see much of a future
Unless we find out what's to blame... what a shame
And we won't be together much longer
Unless we realize that we are the same

"Yeah," she said glumly to the stereo. "I know." She hurried downstairs and out of her house, headed for her last hope.

* * *

"Buffy." Riley cut her off at the front gate.

Perfect. Just what I don't need right now. "Riley, I so don't--"

"Buffy, look. I'm, I'm sorry." He held his hands out in surrender. "Can we just talk for a minute?"

She sighed. "Sure." They started to walk.

"I acted crazy today."

Buffy agreed silently.

"I plead temporary insanity. I just didn't know how to react after..." he couldn't continue.

"Look." She exhaled heavily. "I know this thing with Spike seems--"

"You don't have to explain."

"I don't?"

"There was a part of me that knew you'd be with him," he admitted. "The same part of me that always suspected I never had a chance as long as he was gunning for you."

"'Gunning' for me? Riley, I didn't always feel this way about him--"

"You told me yourself once. When you met him, you met your match."

"I was talking about fighting skill!"

"But it's not just fighting skill, is it? It's everything. I mean, the sparks that've always flown between you two? It's all, 'stand back!'" He stood back to illustrate. "No," he continued, "I can't compete with fate."

"Riley--"

"But that's not what I came here to say."

"It's not?"

He inhaled and exhaled. "I'm so sorry about everything you've been through. Your Mom... I can't imagine how awful that must've been for you."

"Yeah," she said, eyes downcast.

"But down in the Amazon, I went through a lot too. A hundred men, some of them close friends of mine," he swallowed before he continued, "were ripped to shreds. Eaten alive. I was the last man standing -- and not standing very well."

Buffy noticed his limp for the first time. "Oh. God, I'm so sorry."

"I don't want you to be sorry. I just want you to know that I understand. And I can take it. I've been through my own kind of hell and I can accept the fact that you've moved on." He reconsidered. "Well, now that I've gotten the wanting to kill him part out of the way."

She chuckled. "Right."

"I'm going back to Iowa tomorrow. I had to make things right before I left."

Buffy smiled at him. "I'm glad."

"I just hope that he makes you happy."

"He does," she answered honestly, then muttered, "Moreso when I know where he is."

"You're not planning on using that on him, are you?" He pointed to the axe in her hand.

"Oh. No. This is for any Meshuggenah that dares cross my path."

"Meshuggenah?"

"Yeah. Long story."

* * *

The smell of decaying fish was particularly strong down this dock.

The harbor was always one of Buffy's least favorite patrol spots. Smell not withstanding, there was always the unsavory possibility of being thrown headlong into the ocean. Not fun.

But she wasn't patrolling. She was looking for Spike, and no stone would be unturned.

The one bar she hadn't tried was down here. A converted warehouse chock full of drunk fishermen and topless dancers. She'd never had the pleasure of entering, and she wasn't too excited about the prospect tonight.

She didn't expect him to have come all the way down here in daylight, but it was worth a try.

The first thing she saw was the painted sign scrawled with THE FISH TANK illuminated by a single halogen lamp. Guess you don't need much curb appeal if you're offering up naked chicks, Buffy reasoned.

The second thing she saw was her quilt.

Pink and blue embroidery on a white background, haphazardly piled on the concrete right near the entrance.

"Motherfucker," she said in disbelief.

She marched up to the door, intent on pulling Spike out of there by his ear.

"Can I help you?" the large bouncer asked, intercepting her.

"I'm looking for someone," Buffy said. She noticed a very tan girl in a tiny yellow latex dress sitting beside the bouncer, cigarette in hand.

"Sorry. You can't go in there," the bouncer said.

"You don't understand. I'm not asking," she said, ready to push past him.

"This has got to be Buffy," the girl in latex announced with a husky laugh.

Buffy raised an eyebrow.

"You're looking for the hot Billy Idol-type with the English accent, right? The one who thinks he's a 'vampire'?" she asked, adding air quotes and a guffaw.

"Unfortunately," the Slayer grumbled.

"He left about an hour ago. Said something about catching the sunrise at the beach. I tried to tell him it rises in the East, but--"

Buffy was already sprinting toward the beach.

"Hope you find him before the sun comes up," the girl called after her. She laughed and looked at the bouncer. "Vampire -- get it?"

* * *

"AAAAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"

A hearty Tarzan yell came blaring from the beach.

Spike. Buffy's search was over. But her night, apparently, was not.

She made out the silhouette of a tall lifeguard chair and a man hanging from the side of it, beating his chest ape-style while holding a bottle of what had to be whiskey or some equally potent drink.

"Pshew! Pshew! Pshew!" Spike was making shooting sound effects and swatting at imaginary flying objects. "Stay away! She's mine!"

Buffy approached slowly, amused by the display.

Another round of noisy shots were fired. "AAH!"

Spike began his death dance, and then slipped in earnest, plummeting to the sand below with a hard pop.

"It wasn't aeroplanes," he pronounced like a drunken newsreel announcer. "It was beauty killed the beast!" He held up his bottle in emphasis, then dropped it beside his discarded leather coat.

"Okay, King Spike--"

"Thass right!" he announced to no one, not realizing she was there. "Buffy killed the Spike!"

"No," she corrected. "You never gave me the chance."

He stopped. "Whassat?"

"It's your girlfriend. Buffy. The one who should kill you after all you put me through today."

He was still on his back on the sand. "I don't have a girlfriend."

"Well, what the heck am I then?" She began to pick him up. He resisted.

"Buffy. Slayer. Spicy Buffalo wings. Chili sauce. Onion dip..."

She ignored his prattling. "Translation," she said. "Tasty American girlfriend."

"Tasty... yeah..." Then he blinked at her. "How'd you find me?"

"A little birdie with enormous tits told me you might be here."

He laughed. "Thas funny. Never saw a little birdie wif..." He realized what she meant. "Right."

"And later I'll be kicking your ass for that," she said, then tried pulling him up again.

"What're you -- leave me 'lone." He flattened himself in the sand.

"Spike, this is no time to revisit your terrible twos."

"When's time?"

"Well, preferably never. But mostly when the sun's not gonna come up and burn you to death!"

"Fuck the bloody sun!"

"Spike, get the hell up!"

"Why do you care what happens to me?"

"Because I'm in love with you, you dumbass!"

He stopped, lifted his head, and squinted at her. "You're not real." His head flopped down again.

"Spike." She straddled him. "I'm real. I'm the tasty girlfriend who loves you."

"If this is another bloody dream--" He reached out and pinched her.

"Ow! You're not supposed to pinch me, you idiot!" She pinched his nipple.

"Ow!"

"See? Not a dream," she said.

He eyed her suspiciously. "Did the sajuggernauts get you?"

"No."

"Wha happened to soldierblob?"

"He's going back to Iowa tomorrow."

Spike stopped to reflect. "He said you don't love me."

"He was wrong."

"How can you love me? I'm evil."

Buffy sighed. "Ever fall in love with someone you shouldn't've fallen in love with?"

He smiled. "Think I know that one."

"It's not a bad song. As far as lame punk music goes."

"C'mere," he said, and pulled her down for a kiss. Just as she got close enough to his mouth, she whimpered and fainted on top of him.

Something gurgled behind them.

Spike looked over Buffy's head. One Zuxugna demon stood there. Behind him, an army of hundreds.

"Uh oh."



More to come...

"Buffy! Stay down!"

Not a problem, Spike thought. And who the fuck was that, anyway?

He looked up. Willow. And the entire goodie good entourage.

Some part of him knew this couldn't look good to them. "She's out cold," Spike explained.

"Get her into the water!" Giles said. "They won't follow you there!"

That would work... if only he could move. His head was starting to spin.

Suddenly, a hand appeared before him. He noticed too late that the owner of the hand was Riley.

But something told Spike the boy wasn't there to fight -- that there were more important matters to attend to. Riley wordlessly helped him up, and they each took an arm of Buffy's and walked her into the surf.

Spike took a quick look back at the action. Willow and Tara had joined hands and were shooting some kind of electrical force out of their fingertips. Giles was chanting from a book. Xander and Anya waited with axes. The demons were panicking and squawking as they appeared to be magically enclosed in some huge invisible container.

Buffy fell into the shallow water, dragging Spike down with her.

"If you can get her to that boat over there," Riley pointed out toward the ocean, "that might be your safest bet."

Spike looked. It wasn't far. As long as he could stay alert enough, he could do it. He kicked himself for having that first bottle of JD that always gave way to several more. "Right. Will do."

Riley ran back towards the group.

"Alright ducks, we're goin' for a swim."

Spike wrapped an arm around her and sidestroked it to the empty schooner, focused only on keeping her head above water.

Reaching the deck, he climbed its ladder and pulled her unconscious body out of the water.

"That's a good duckie," he said, then flung her over his shoulder to get her below.

There was a tiny room in there, with a cushioned seat big enough to lie on. He unclasped her wet dress, unhooked her bra, and lay her down. He liked to save the removal of the panties for the heat of the moment.

As he pulled off his own clothes, he gazed adoringly at his Buffy, nude in repose. If I combusted in the sun, he realized, I wouldn't have had the chance to gaze upon this beautiful sight ever again.

He stumbled over to her, cursing the fact that he'd let himself get this drunk.

"Buffy," he said.

Nothing.

"Buffy."

Nothing.

He had to wake her up. It was no fun when she was unconscious.

He slapped her. Again. Again. "Buffy! Rise and shine!"

He punched her. She stirred. "There you are."

Her eyes fluttered open. "Ow."

"Sorry, love."

"Where are we?"

"Boat. Demon army's on the beach."

"Quick," she urged.

"I can do quick," he said, a finger in the air. "Suspecially in this state."

He grabbed her ankles and hooked them up over his shoulders, then tore off her panties with a satisfying rip.

As he pressed the tip of his cock against her opening, Spike marveled at how wet she was. Encountering no resistance, he slid in easily, then pulled out to re-enter.

This time, it was so tight only his head made it in. Buffy gasped, wide-eyed.

He looked down. Oh, fuck. Wrong hole. He looked into her eyes apologetically. He'd been saving that particular place for a special occasion -- the day she'd actually let him.

But Buffy wasn't angry. Instead, she wrapped her hands around his ass and slowly drew him in.

All the way in.

Spike's eyes teared. Bloody inferno.

They began to move. Buffy's pain was replaced by intense pleasure.

Eyes glazed under heavy lids, she smiled at her lover. She moaned and purred as she directed his movements with her hands.

Their pace steadily increased.

Spike gazed at her neck. There was only one thing that would make this exquisite feeling complete. "Buffy," he said with uneven breath.

"Do it," she said.

He descended, and bit into her jugular, drinking deep.

As one, they came furiously, wave after wave threatening to drown them both.

* * *

"What do you mean they're all out there?" Buffy was peering out of a porthole while tying the ripped chiffon hem of her dress around her neck. "And you brought me here?"

"Love, you were bloody incapacitated," Spike explained, almost fully sober from the potent slayer lifeforce infusion. "Little help it would do to keep you there. 'Sides, it wasn't my idea. Soldier's orders."

"Riley's out there? Why?"

"How the bloody hell should I know?" he said, propping himself up on his elbows as he yanked his jeans up.

"Well, we have to get back."

Though he would have preferred to sleep for a hundred years, Spike followed her out of the cabin.

* * *

"Buffy! Spike! Don't move!" Xander called.

Buffy and Spike shared a look. They were knee-deep in ocean, minnows zipping past their feet.

The rest of the gang were now just watching as Willow held the entire Zuxugna population of Sunnydale in thrall.

She punctuated her chant with the word "RETURN". There was a wrinkle in the stars, and a hole opened up in the world.

Every last Zuxugna demon was sucked into it.

"CLOSE," Willow commanded.

The hole zippered up into a point of light and disappeared.

Save for the pounding of the surf, the beach was quiet again. Buffy and Spike trudged up to their friends.

"Now if we could just do that with the rest of 'em," Xander said.

Anya groused, "Hey!"

"The bad ones. Just the bad, current demons," Xander corrected.

"Hey guys," Willow waved at Buffy and Spike.

"Good show, Red," Spike said.

"You were so commandy," said Buffy.

"They can terrorize their own women now," Willow said proudly.

"Lucky ladies," Buffy said. "Well, I'm sorry we missed most of it."

"Oh, please--" Willow noticed Buffy looking behind her. Riley was hanging back by the parking lot. "Yeah. Riley. I hope you don't mind. He ran into us on the way and really wanted to help."

Buffy turned to Spike.

"Go on," he said, looking down at the sand he was kicking. "I'll wait here."

She smiled, and jogged over to Riley.

"I'm not trying to get in your way," Riley said. "I was just here to lend a hand--"

"I know. It's okay. And appreciated."

He smiled. "Well. It's been -- strange."

Buffy nodded. "To say the least."

"Buffy," he said, a little choked up. "I wish you all the luck in the world."

"You too, Riley." She hugged him, and noticed how much her feelings for him had changed. "Good luck in Iowa. Take care of yourself."

"I always do," he said, letting go.

She watched her ex-boyfriend get into a car and drive away. Then she walked back to the group, where her new love stood.

"Who's got a car?" she asked, interrupting Spike and Xander's rivalrous wordplay.

"Mine's here," Giles said. "Xander's as well."

"We've gotta get Spike home. The sun's rising soon."

"Right then. To the graveyard we go."

"I meant home as in my home," Buffy said, and took her boyfriend's hand.

The gang fell silent. Even the surf seemed to pause.

Spike smiled proudly.

"W-well, yes. Right," Giles said. "Of course."

* * *

"Giles. I know what you're thinking."

The slayer and her watcher stood outside her front door as the sun peeked over the horizon.

"I'm not sure you do."

"You're thinking, 'Good lord, she's gotten herself involved with another vampire and this time he hasn't even got a soul.'"

"Perhaps not quite with that accent, but... well, of course that's one of my concerns."

Buffy took a deep breath. She wasn't sure she was ready for this lecture.

"But when it comes to matters of the heart," Giles continued, "I trust you implicitly."

"You do?"

He smiled. "If you've discovered that he's worthy of your love, then he must be."

A tear sprang to her eye as she searched his earnest face. "Thank you," she whispered.

He gave her shoulder a paternal squeeze. "Now, I expect you to get some rest. That is until I ring you with news of the next impending apocalypse."

"I'll be waiting nowhere near the phone," Buffy said with a smirk.



More to come...

"Buffy, squeak me. Pwease squeak me," Spike said, giving a high, trilly voice to the rubber ducky he waved in her face. "I'm so wonewy."

"You're such a freak," Buffy laughed, swiping it from his hand.

"But dat's why you wuv me."

"Yeah," she agreed with a sigh. "Buffy the Fweak Wuvver. That's me."

"Know why I love you?" he asked in his normal voice.

"Why?"

"Because. You feel bad for the ducky."

She realized she was petting the plastic toy and scoffed. "Well, it was lonely!" She squeaked it and sent it to coast over a bubbly landscape.

He squeezed a sponge over her shoulder. Her back against his chest, she relaxed into him and craned her neck to kiss him softly. As he rumbled into her mouth, she felt him harden against her.

He dropped the sponge and started to maneuver her hips.

"Spike. Honey? Mmph. No, not here."

"Why not?"

"Too splashy," she said. "You know, there's this thing they call a bed. We should try it."

"Beds are overrated." He pulled at her again.

"Spike! This is supposed to be a relaxing hot bath. Emphasis on relax."

"I'll relax you," he urged. "Promise."

"The last time I relaxed around you I got penetrated in a very naughty place."

"You loved it." He traced a finger along her neck. "Naughty girl."

"So did you, as I recall."

"Yeah." His breath caught and his eyes began to glaze over.

Buffy sensed the danger in this. "Alright, Mr. Freaky," she said, pushing him backwards, "there will be no naughty penetration tonight. And no penetration of any kind unless we're in a snug, dry bed."

"Right. Come on then. Bedtime for Buffy." He propelled her up and stood.

"Hold on, gotta shower off first."

"You can't shower in front of me and expect me not to ravage you."

"Get out, then," she shrugged as she drained the tub.

He sighed, stepped out and grabbed a towel. "I'll be waiting for you."

"Don't start without me," she said with a wink.

He opened the bathroom door and strutted out into the hall. "Wouldn't be any fun without you, pet," he said lustily, getting a last eyeful before closing the door.

Draping the towel loosely in front of him as he dried his front, Spike turned.

"Dawn!" he yelped, jumping backwards and frantically fastening the towel behind him.

"Spike," the younger Summers said with a smirk.

"Didn't know you were here." He shot a nervous glance at the bathroom door.

"Obviously." She put a hand on her hip and asked casually, "Buffy in there?"

"Wh -- No!" he said, the very picture of astonishment.

She looked at him askance. "Then... who were you talking to?"

"Uh. Meself." He lifted his chin.

"Do you usually call yourself 'pet'?"

The water shut off and the stall shower door slid on its hinges.

Spike was at a loss. "It's uh, it's not what you think--"

"It's not," she repeated in disbelief.

The door opened and Buffy walked out in a towel. "Dawn!"

"Slayer! I was, I was just tellin' Dawn here, how this isn't what it looks like." He turned to Dawn. "It's, uh -- it's a funny story, really."

Both sisters, amused, folded their arms in wait.

"You see, not knowin' big sis was here, I stepped in to take a shower -- and uh, there she was."

"So," Dawn raised her brow, "you decided to take one together?"

"Uh... no--" he looked to Buffy for help.

"Spike." Buffy couldn't prolong his agony any further. "It's okay. She knows."

"She knows?"

"I know," Dawn confirmed, nodding. "But hey, good cover-up."

Spike exhaled and smiled disdainfully at the girl. "Thanks."

Dawn strolled into her room. "And cute butt," she said before she closed the door.

"Hey!" Spike said. He looked at Buffy and pointed at her sister's room.

Buffy chuckled. "She's not wrong," she gently patted his behind, "It is pretty cute. But try to keep it away from my sister?"

"Well she--! I didn't--!" Spike gave up and sighed as Buffy took his hand and led him away.

Foiled by the Summers clan yet again, he thought, then brightened as the eldest dropped her towel on her bed.

Wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

"Five! Four! Three! Two! One--"

The entire crowd joined in. "BLACK OUT!"

As if on cue, every light in the Bronze went out. Candles, torches and lighters illuminated the club and hand-held flashlights lit the stage.

"Another Bronze blackout night!" the bandleader shouted over the whoops and hollers. "Courtesy of our good friends over at Pacific Gas and Electric."

Some guy yelled out, "FUCK PG&E!!"

"Well, tonight," the bandleader continued, "I've got good news... and I've got bad news. The good news is: that murky, shitty heat wave has officially moved out of Sunnydale!"

The crowd cheered, and the Scoobies shared a conspiratorial glance.

"The bad news?" He paused, then shouted, "We're still fuckin' here!"

Everyone roared together as the drummer counted in and the band broke out in a festive, uptempo tune. An upright bassist plucked away, three horn players accented the downbeat, and the leader strummed madly at an acoustic guitar. The whole band then sang at the top of their lungs:

Whenever I'm with you
Something inside
Starts to burning
And I'm filled with desire

Could it be a devil in me
Or is this the way love's supposed to be?
It's like a heat wave
Burnin' in my heart

"Hey!" Xander yelled to the gang as he avoided a flying mosher. "What'd I say? Martha and the Vendettas!"

Giles complained, "Bloody awful rendition. They're tearing the song apart."

"Giles. It's stuffy enough in here already," Buffy said, patting his arm.

"Sorry," he said, and made an effort to loosen up. He didn't much care for the original anyway.

Tara looked around at the commotion. "I can't believe we've been missing this!"

"Guess it was all that pesky evil we were fighting!" Willow shouted happily.

Spike returned from the bar and handed out bottles. "Alright, Coronas for you two, Buds for you, Guinness, and a root beer for you, little bit." Dawn happily accepted her drink.

"Aren't you drinking anything?" Buffy asked him.

"I got you to attend to," he said, wrapping his arms around her from behind. "Gotta stay on my toes."

Some of the gang looked away awkwardly.

Buffy understood that their relationship was still too new to fully accept, and she really wanted to give them time. But she also really wanted to make out with Spike.

Buffy turned to her lover, said, "Let's dance," and led him into the dark crowd.

Has hot love pressure got a hold on me
Or is this the way love's supposed to be?
It's like a heat wave
Burnin' in my heart

"I never figured this for a slow song," Spike said to the girl who was pressed against him.

"Romantic Motown-turned-Ska?" she ventured as her lips grazed his.

"Yeah," he said, his undead heart racing. "I see what you mean."

Their mouths fused.

Can't explain it
Don't understand it
Never felt like this before
This funny feeling has me amazed
Don't know what to do
My head's in a haze
It's like a heat wave

"Is it hot in here?" Buffy asked, eyelashes coyly sweeping upwards.

Spike shook his head slowly. "It's just you."

He turned her so her back was flush against him. His hand creeped up her bare midriff as he spoke seductively into her ear. "Remember? Me cold... You," he wormed his way under her halter top, "hot."

Buffy closed her eyes and arched into him. "Maybe I will miss that heat wave after all."

"I know I will," Spike said as he kissed her neck. "Those demons got you all hot and horny for me."

"How many times do I have to tell you, baby," she led his hand inside her panties, "it wasn't the demons?"

His eyes widened along with his grin.

She spun around to face him and looked into his eyes as she touched a finger to his lower lip. "Spike?"

"Love?"

"It's way dark in here, isn't it?" she said with a wicked smile.

"I can see just fine."

"But nobody else can..."

"No," he said, looking about. "Not unless they're vampires."

She breathed in deeply. "Need you."

Temptress. She knew what those two words did to him.

"Now," she said.

Shivering with desire, he said, "I got you."

"Find us a place to sit," she whispered. "Where no one can see."

Spike spotted an empty stool in a dark corner. Good enough.

Buffy snaked her arms around his neck and kissed him. He picked her up by her thighs, pushed through the crowd, and sat with her in his lap.

Still kissing him passionately, she yanked open his belt buckle, freed him and pulled her panties aside. He pulled his coat around her in case some schoolboy dared turn his flashlight her way.

Looking into his dark eyes, she sunk down.

Buffy felt her skin prickle with goosebumps.

A young man grazed past them.

"Mine," Spike growled instinctively, features changing.

Her eyes rolled back in ecstasy. "Uh-huh."

He grinned. Victory.

Then she tightened her muscles around his cock, arched her back and proclaimed, "Mine."

I feel it
burning
right here
in my heart

"Yeah," Spike agreed.

It's like a heat wave...

Defeat never tasted so sweet.




THE END


(Except for the epilogue and bonus chapter!)

"Stop whining. It'll heal."

"I think you broke it," he whined, nursing his injury.

"Well, don't be so wide open next time."

"Why do you always go for the nose?"

"'Cause it makes you so angry," Buffy answered, her eyes flashing.

Spike grabbed her. "It does."

"Ow, rib! Rib!"

He let go of her. "Sorry, pet."

"Something better happen soon, or we'll end up killing each other." They rounded the corner of Revello Drive.

"Be careful what you wish for, love."

"What? The something happening or killing each other?"

He laughed. "Something happening."

"So suddenly you don't want to fight anyone but me?"

"When did I ever?"

She smiled at him. "Still. I'm itching for some real evil to fight."

"Now, that hurts."

"Oh, I'm sorry, honey." She gave his nose a peck and said in a baby voice, "You're the evillest."

"Real convincing. Thanks."

"Hey, whenever you need a stroke to the old ego, don't hesitate to ask--"

Suddenly, the street lamps blinked out.

"--someone... else..."

The town went black.

"Thought these bleedin' energy zaps were over."

"Honey, we only rid the world of heatwave demons," she said. "Sadly, the depletion of our natural resources continues."

"Stupid bloody black outs."

"What are you complaining about? You can still see."

"All my blood goes bad," he pouted. "Can't even nuke it."

She pulled him by their joined hands until his chest was pressed against hers. "I might know where you can get some fresh."

His pout disappeared. "You don't say."

"Uh huh. Slayer blood. Some call it a delicacy."

"The finest there is," he rasped.

"I don't share it with just anyone, you know. Only very special vampires."

"Really."

"Really. In fact, there may be a sample waiting..." She grazed his lips with hers.

Trembling, he asked, "Yeah? Where?"

"Very possibly in our bed..."

"I'll race you." He took off.

"No fair! I can't see!"

"Turn on your slayer senses pet!" he called behind him.

Running after him, she yelled, "Night vision... is not... one of -- Ow."

He ran back to her. "You alright?"

"I'm fine. My pride won't heal for a while, but..."

He laughed. "That was a picture. Best slayer in history, runnin' right smack into a tree."

"Ha ha. You know, to the rest of us, it's completely pitch black out here."

"Yeah." He looked at the sky. "No moon."

"Lots of stars though. Birdies too." She swirled a finger in front of her eyes.

"Better take my hand, Snow White."

"Wait. Are you one of the seven dwarves or the evil stepmom? 'Cause I won't eat that apple."

"I'm the comely Prince."

"That's for sure," she snorted. "No more running, okay?"

"No more running." He led her inside the gates and up the front steps.

As her eyes adjusted to the low light, Buffy noticed the absence of mechanical sounds and how serene it made the night. It was as if they were the only two people in the world.

She inhaled and whispered, "Nice."

"What's that, pet?"

"Shhh," she said, and tugged on his coat, detouring him to the porch. "C'mere, Comely."

"But... upstairs... the sample..."

"You'll get your protein drink soon enough." She sat up on the railing and pulled him close, touching his face.

"Lookit you. All romantic and fluffy."

"Come on -- the quiet, the dark? You don't think it's sexy?"

"I think anything that involves you is sexy." He slipped his hands up her skirt and tasted her neck, adding, "My ripe... succulent... peach..."

Buffy whimpered and rested her fingers on his belt, this particular combination of caress, kiss and sweet talk affecting her motor skills.

He unfastened his pants and ran her hand over his rigid length. "This what you want?"

"Uh-huh..."

"How much?"

"So, so much."

"Good." He ripped her panties away.

Buffy suddenly got her bearings back to scold, "Spike! Do you know how many pairs of underwear you've ru--"

He plunged into her, effectively quieting that train of thought.

She relaxed her thighs, giving him further access. To stifle a moan, she grabbed him by the neck and locked her lips over his.

He teased her tongue as he accelerated his fevered thrusts.

He slipped his arms under Buffy's thighs to grab a firmer hold of her ass. "Say it."

"Unh..."

He panted, "Say it, Buffy..."

She searched her lust-ridden mind for the words he wanted to hear. "Uh... you're the... Big Bad?"

He chuckled softly into her skin. "Not that -- 'preciate it though. The other thing."

"Oh," she smiled and whispered into his ear, "I need you."

He quivered and tightened his grip, moving faster.

Suddenly, the front door creaked.

They froze.

The screen door slammed open, and Dawn emerged. Spike could see her clearly, looking out into the night with a cell phone at her ear.

"Buffy?" she asked into the dark, unable to see past her own face.

Spike felt Buffy's heartbeat racing, and covered her mouth. Buffy rolled her eyes. Like she would say something.

"Spike?" Dawn queried again.

Silence.

"Huh. I coulda sworn I heard them giggling out here." She turned back into the house. "Anyway, I'll have her call you as soon as she gets in..."

When she shut the door, they exhaled together.

"Well that dampened the mood a little."

"Be careful what I wish for, right?" Buffy sighed, "Armageddon #7 calling." She added in a tiny voice, "Please hold."

He smoothed a strand of hair out of her eye. "Nothing you can't handle, pet."

She pulled him closer and touched his chin. "Nothing we can't handle."

He paused for a moment, searching her eyes.

"I need you," she repeated plainly, and suddenly it meant so much more.

He stiffened within her and began to move again. "Buffy..."

She wrapped her legs around him and arched backwards over the railing as he surged into her.

When she felt herself nearing release, she gasped achingly, "I love you so much."

"Buff -- Hell--" He dropped his head back and roared. "GRRRAHHH!"

They held onto each other until the last blissful shudder.

"EEEWWW!" They heard through the open window. "If you're gonna pretend you're not here, you could at least TRY to keep it down!"

Buffy's eyes widened. Spike laughed.

"Um. Sorry, Dawn," Buffy said meekly.

"Whatever," she said. "Call Giles."

"'Kay." Buffy slapped his chest. "Why'd you have to yell so loud?"

"Why'd you have to make me?"

"Didn't."

"Did."

"Get upstairs."

"What?"

She moved in on his ear. "Upstairs. Clothes off. I'll be up in a minute."

"What am I, your bleedin' concubine?"

"I'm the one who'll be bleeding," she smiled, trailing a finger down his shirt. "Remember?"

He stuttered for a minute and finally said, "Right. I'll see you upstairs."

They opened the door and he spotted Dawn on the couch, surrounded by candles. "'Night, Lil' Prowler."

"'Night, Big Growler," she answered casually, handing Buffy the phone.

He hopped up the steps.

"Growler?" Buffy asked with a smirk.

"Call 'em like I hear 'em," Dawn replied.

"Sorry about that. I didn't know the window was open."

"Buffy, the whole neighborhood heard that. Possibly the whole world."

Smiling, Buffy shrugged. "He's an animal, what can I do?"

"Get him a muzzle."

Spike's voice boomed from the upstairs bedroom, "I heard that!"

The girls giggled together.

"Yeah, yeah. Very funny!"

Buffy dialed a number. "Hey Giles, it's me. Huh? No, just, Dawn said something funny. Okay... yeah... No, I haven't... What makes you think... Oh. Okay. We'll be there tomorrow, bright and early. ...I don't know, I'll get him a big parasol or something. You get with the booky parts and we'll see you tomorrow. 'Kay. You too. Bye." She flung the phone back on the couch and looked at Dawn.

"Is it bad?"

"Nothing we can't handle," Buffy assured her.

They smiled at one another.

"A parasol?!" They heard from upstairs. "That'll be the bloody day!"




THE (ALMOST) END

Spike was wide awake.

He traced the soft curves of the girl who slumbered peacefully beside him and smiled. It wasn't any wonder that she was knocked out; she'd just let him drink from her -- and in new and uncharted territory to boot. Nevertheless, slayer blood always made him high, and he had to do something.

First things first, a smoke.

Quietly, he slipped out of bed and pulled on his jeans and t-shirt. Fetching his jacket from the floor, he crept past the snoring Dawn's room, downstairs and out to the front porch.

Well, the streetlights were back on. That was a relief.

He opened his pack of Marlboros and cursed. Empty.

Crumpling it up and tossing it aside, Spike made his way out into the night.

All-night drugstore. Not far.

* * *

Buffy was having a great dream.

She was on the waterslide, naked, and Spike was behind her, under her, kissing her. No, he was licking her... He was licking her from front to back... especially back...

Her eyes fluttered open. She was on her stomach in her bed. That last part? Not a dream.

Every centimeter of skin between her thighs was thoroughly drenched. How much of it was care of Spike's talented mouth or her own overactive juices, she couldn't tell. All she knew was that it felt very, very good.

"Spike?"

One hand on each swell of her buttocks, Spike hummed languidly, "Mmm?"

"What are you doing...?"

"Mm." He lifted his head. "Nothing. Go back to sleep."

She giggled. "That might be a little impossible."

"Alright then," he said, climbing up her back. "Guess you'll have to witness the debauchery."

"What kinda debauchery are we talkin' here?" she asked with a slow-spreading smile.

He said into her ear, "The worst kind," and started to unbuckle his belt.

"Mm," she approved, then wondered, "Why are you dressed?"

"Had to get cigs. And this." Before her face, he waved one of the tubes he'd nicked from the drug store.

Buffy focused. "Astroglide?"

"Yep." He squeezed a small amount into his hand.

"Um, honey? I don't think I need--"

He pushed a finger into her tightest entryway.

"Oh." She tensed around his hand. "The naughty place."

"Yeah," he said. "Now unclench."

"I don't know if I can."

"Shhhhh," he murmured into her ear, "you knew I'd do this again sooner or later. Just relax. Trust me. It won't hurt."

"Says you," she said snidely, but relaxed anyway.

He slipped another finger in. "You can't pretend you didn't love this."

"I really don't remember... mmmuch..."

Another finger. "It neutralized the power of a hundred-plus pheromone demons, didn't it?"

"Yeah-huh..."

"Meaning," he interpreted, "it was the best bloody fuck of your life. Now let me reprise so you remember it." Keeping his fingers inside her, he sheathed his cock with lubricant.

It was all happening so fast. "You'll stop if I tell you?"

"Sure," he lied, confident that she'd tell him no such thing. He carefully pulled his fingers out and nestled himself in the cleft between her buttocks.

"Spike--"

"We'll go slow. Just the tip for now, I swear it."

She exhaled, "Okay."

As he finessed his way in, she inhaled sharply, distracted by a stab of pain. If that was just the tip...

He pulled her up by her stomach and whispered, "Listen to me, Buffy. You have to get it past this point."

"Me?"

"It's like a barrier. Push back, love. Nice and slow. I got you."

Buffy obeyed, slowly bending her knees and swiveling her hips to accommodate him. "You said it wasn't gonnaOhhhhh...!"

And it was in. All the way. Scorching hot, elastic tight. He sneered, growling, "Bloody..."

"Fuuuck!" she drew out, equal parts incredulous and ecstatic.

His sneer spread into a proud, wicked grin. "Told you."

"Oh... god, Spike!" she swore into her pillow, balling her fists. "So good, don't stop."

Like he'd ever want to. Spike initiated a rhythm, pulling ever so slightly out, pushing all the way in. The lube made it easy, made his movements fluid.

He was warming up inside her, matching her body heat... and taking his sweet time, too.

Signaling a desire to pick up the pace, Buffy reared back hard, forcing him in. "Unh!"

Encouraged, he grabbed hold of her slippery thighs, lifted her up and pumped harder, faster.

She mewed and gasped into her pillow, legs quaking at each stomach-deep stroke.

He plowed in, clenched his teeth and gruffed, "That's right Slayer, take it, such a good girl..."

She reached down to her swollen pussy and rubbed, her hand a blur of urgency.

Feeling his balls tightening, another Olympian orgasm approaching, he coaxed softly, "Come on. Come with me now."

"Not yet! Don't stop!"

"I can start over, Buffy--"

"Please," she begged. "I need more. Please hold it?"

Spike chuckled, dropped her legs and bent over her. "Gonna be the death of me." He grabbed a pillow and stuffed it under her belly, slowing his movements so he could keep himself under control. "Only because you said 'please.'"

She moaned and cooed beneath him. "Love you..."

He closed his eyes in ecstasy and screeched to a halt. "Say that again and it's all over."

"Um... hate you?" she offered, eager to get him to continue.

He shook his head. "That too."

She emitted a hoarse chuckle. "What can I say?"

"Nothing!" he hushed, hips sliding to and fro again. "You should know by now... just about anything you say... gonna set me off."

Bottom lip pouting, she ventured innocently, "You mean like 'fuck me with your big thick cock, Spike?'"

"Ooh..." He sat up and angled her towards him to slap her ass. "Now you're just askin' for it."

With a giggle, she teased just loud enough for him to hear, "Fuck me hard, you bad evil man."

"Oh I will, Slayer," he promised. "I! Will!" He bucked into her recklessly, replacing any further conversation with scattered shouts and grunts.

* * *

Five orgasms, three tubes of Astroglide and one ruined bedspread later, the duo finally crumpled in exhaustion.

The second their faces hit the pillow, the phone rang.

"Oh god," Buffy groaned into the hand that had flown up to cover her mouth for the big bang finale. "Make it stop."

"Jus' ignore it," Spike slurred, lips mashed against her shoulder blade.

"But it could be--"

"Ignore it."

The ringing continued.

"I'm serious. Why would anyone call at..." Buffy uncovered the bedside clock, letting Spike's t-shirt fall to the floor. "Ten forty-five! Oh my god! It's ten forty-five!" Unable to pry her boyfriend off of her back, she managed to pull the phone by its cord. "Hello?"

"Buffy?" Giles asked on the other end of the line. "Are you sleeping?"

"No. No!" Buffy muffled a yawn. "Why would I be doing that?"

"Please, I need you here as soon as possible."

"Ten minutes," she said soberly, and hung up the phone.

"What's up?" Spike asked her neck.

"Apocalypse," grumbled Buffy.

"Oh, right." He kissed her shoulder.

She smiled. "He needs me to come as soon as possible."

"Not a problem." With a determined expression, Spike volunteered for the difficult task. "I'm on top of it." He moved a fraction, and positioned himself properly.

"What do you think you're doing?" she said with a chuckle. "Stop that!"

"Hey look, Watcher's orders, right? Who am I to argue?"

"You know, talking about my Watcher will not get me anywhere near coming."

"Well, that's a relief. Always sort of worried about you two."

Buffy gaped, horrified. "Eew!"

"I know you got a thing for older men..."

"Hey. Giles is way too young for me."

He hooked his chin over her shoulder and murmured, "Then it's settled. One more go before you leave."

"I leave? We leave, you mean."

"We? But--"

"No buts."

Spike laughed. "You sure?"

"Oh god, I can't believe I just said that." Buffy's face hit the pillow in embarrassment. She lifted it again to say, "No more buts of any kind today."

He whined, "But this is the very best kind of butt... Buffy butt."

Buffy gasped. "That was a three-but violation!"

"C'mon," Spike prodded. "One more for the apocalypse. Just might be our last opportunity before the world ends."

"Hm," considered the Slayer. "Good thinking."

Permission granted, he slowly nudged his way back in.

Between grunts and moans, Buffy justified gamely, "Gotta... make every second... mmm..."



THE END


(for real.)