Buffy sighed in pleased exhaustion as she fell back onto the comfort of Spike’s throw rug. She moaned and rolled over to stare into his azure eyes.

A girl could really get used to this. No…no. Bad Buffy. Spike and Buffy do not equal lovey, schmoopy goodness. Bad Buffy. God…Spike looks so hot all naked and sweaty and…NO! Bad Buffy get out of my head!

“Argh,” Buffy groaned, putting her hands over her face.

Spike raised an eyebrow and looked at her in confusion.

“What’s the matter, pet?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just…meh…we missed the bed again.”

Spike chuckled.

“That we did, pet.”

A momentary silence passed before Spike cleared his throat.

“Right then. Shouldn’t you be off now, virtue all aflutter?”

Buffy balked at his remark.

“Why? Got an important meeting in the morning?”

“Actually, yes. Really need some rest, love…if that’s alright by you, I mean.”

Pouting, Buffy stared at Spike.

“Why can’t I stay? I’ll sleep. I’m the Queen of Sleepovers.”

Spike laughed, shaking his head.

“Pet, if you stay over there’ll be no sleep for old Spike. You’re the Queen of Shag-Overs is what you are. Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

“Oh, of course not,” she said firmly, her resolved pout plastered on her face.

Pecking her lightly on the forehead, Spike stood up, dragging her to her feet with him.

“Now, Buffy Anne Summers, what have you been told about overstaying your welcome?

“Hey! If anyone overstays his welcome it’s you, buster!”

“Oi! Now you watch that lip, Slayer. Get your frilly things then, and off you go. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“Oh like hell you will! If you think….”

“Now don’t try my patience, Slayer. One more negative word and I’ll toss your naked arse out for all the demon folk to ogle.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

She scoffed and bent over to collect her clothes; fully aware of the image she was showing Spike.

“You don’t have the stones, Spike. You love me too much to…HEY!!!”

Quicker than Buffy could react, Spike scooped her up and tossed her unceremoniously in a heap outside of his crypt, before turning around and barring the door behind him. After shouting for a moment, and then ducking behind a bush to avoid a passing vampire, Buffy gently knocked on the crypt’s door and whispered to Spike.

“Spike? Can I please have my clothes back now?”

“Nope,” he yelled through the door, “not until you apologize for being a daft bint and promise that you’ll come back for a right nasty shag tomorrow night.”

Buffy started to protest, but then sighed in defeat.

“Fine.”

“Fine, what?”

“I’m sorry I was a ‘daft bint’.”

“And…?”

“I’m not saying it.”

“Getting awful cold out there, in’t, Slayer?”

Buffy emitted a low growl and rolled her eyes.

“FINE! I’ll come over tomorrow night.”

“For what, pet?”

“Sex.”

“For what now?”

“For a ‘right nasty shag?’”

“Right. And who’s going to give it to you?”

“You are.”

“Who is?”

“Spike, please.”

He chuckled inside the crypt an unbarred the door.

“Alright, pet, c’mon in for your sodding clothes.”

Buffy rolled her eyes as she opened the door. Spike pulled her in and thrust his rock hard erection into her before she realized what was happening. She moaned in ecstasy as he barraged her mouth with salty kisses.

“I thought…guh! Thought you had to get to sleep…early…oh Spike! Uh! Early morning?”

“All that talk of shagging you…oh Gods, Buffy, right there! I couldn’t…couldn’t help m’self, pet.”

An hour later, a fully clothed and fully satiated Buffy made her way home from the Restfield cemetery. Spike watched her walk away with a lustful stare, and then turned his attention to the sarcophagus in the center of the crypt. Pushing the top off of it, he took out a barrage of hi-tech gadgets, all bearing the Microsoft logo. He picked up a miniscule cell phone and punched in a series of numbers. After a single ring, a soft, feminine voice answered.

“Yes sir?”

“Julie, hi,” Spike said, his accent dropping in an instant, and being replaced by an Americanized and slightly nerdy one, “Just wondering if we’re all set for my pickup in an hour?”

“Yes, sir, the helicopter is on its way right now. It should be at your location within the hour.”

“Fabulous. And Julie, did you get everything that I asked for on that helicopter?”

“Yes, of course, sir, the briefing on the new accounts and products are filed in alphabetical order and are waiting for you. Oh, the case of “M&M’s” and the blood bag are also waiting for you in the helicopter. Sir, if you don’t mind my asking, why do you need the blood?”

“Transfusion, dear. I’ve found that when I get a little under the weather, a quick blood transfusion really perks up my day. You should really try it. I’ve gotten about half of the board members to pick it up…really helps out the system, you know. Know what, Julie? I’ll have Phil fax over my study on the benefits of transfusions to you…maybe you can join the sensation?”

A thrillingly melodic laugh echoed through the phone in Spike’s crypt.

“I’ll try it, sir, though I can’t say that my boyfriend will approve.”

“And why’s that, dear? Religious thing?”

“No, no…squeamish thing. I can handle the sight of blood, but Gerry? Oy…he faints when he sees tomato soup.”

“Sounds like a real manly man you’ve got there, Julie.”

Julie laughed again in Spike’s ear, forcing a smile from his lips.

“Mr. Gates, you really are too much!”

“And don’t I know it, dear. At any rate, I’ll see you at the meeting?”

“Yes, sir. Have a good flight.”

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