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Buffy sighed, passing the same gravestone for the fourth time in a row. She was supposed to report to Giles more than an hour ago, but couldn't help dragging her feet when she realized she wouldn't be able to avoid Spike. The thought of any kind of interaction with the chipped bleach blond after their magick-fueled engagement last night had her running in any direction but her Watcher's. However, upon noticing how late it was getting, the Slayer decided to bite the bullet and go to Giles' flat even if she didn't have much to report.

Giles' lifted his head as his Slayer entered his home. “Buffy,” he said, “I'd gotten worried. Was anything amiss tonight?”

“No,” Buffy admitted, biting the inside of her cheek. “Should there be?” She busied herself with getting a glass of water.

Her Watcher shook his head. Buffy's head shot up when a heavy set of footsteps thundered down the staircase. Spike stopped on the last step, tense as he realized who had graced them with her presence.

The Slayer swung her head to glare at Giles. “And you're asking me if anything's amiss. Why isn't he chained up?”

Spike smirked, making his way over to the couch. “Why, Slayer. I'm beginnin' to think you like me in that condition.” He laid down, sprawled out, reaching for the remote.

Giles at least had the decency to look sheepish. “My attempt at being humane after the ordeal he faced last night.” He whipped off his glasses and glared in the general direction of the bleach blond. “Please do not make me regret it.”

Spike gave him an unconcerned look as he put his feet up on the coffee table and began to dig into the box of Triscuits sitting on it.

Buffy blanched. “You consider an engagement to me a big enough ordeal to--” She clammed up, her jaw tightening as she disappeared into the kitchen.

“Buffy, you know that's not what I meant,” Giles admonished gently, following her.

She merely bit down on her trembling lip, feeling foolish and hurt. She took a cookie from where a plateful of them sat on the stovetop while her Watcher sighed and poured himself a couple fingers of scotch.

Equipped with their pick-me-ups, the two walked out into the living room, Giles sinking heavily into the chair by his desk and Buffy dropping into the loveseat at the far end of the room. The three of them stared pointedly at the television set, the sound of Passions' theme song coming through the speakers. Taking one last bite of her cookie, Buffy found herself blushing when she realized this was the seat she and Spike had occupied mere hours before, cuddling and sharing kisses...

After Spike stopped the tape, Giles placed his empty tumbler in the sink and announced he was going to bed. Buffy tensed, the last thing she wanted right now was to be in the bleach blond's company all by lonesome.

“Thanks for tapin' Passions, Rupes,” Spike called out to the retiring Watcher.

“I'm gonna go patrol,” she grumbled, shooting up from her seat.

Spike raised an eyebrow, licking his thumb and pointer finger and putting the empty box of Triscuits aside. “Din' you just come from the cemetery, luv?”

Buffy couldn't help but follow his fingertips' passage in between puckered, pouty lips. “Missed a spot,” she blurted, nearly reeling back in horror when she realized she'd been addressing Spike and the crumb hanging off his plump bottom lip.

More eager than ever to put as much distance between she and the soulless vampire, she ran out of Giles' flat, all the while failing to realize that she had not returned him to the bathtub.

Spike smirked and followed her out, trailing after her at a leisurely pace. He watched her enter The Bronze before stepping inside himself. She was alert as she melted into the crowd, scanning the dance floor for predators. The blond vampire stopped directly behind her, aware of her heart racing as she slowly turned around.

Buffy swallowed hard. His smile was suddenly disarming as he traced random shapes up and down her arms, mesmerized by the way she shivered. His lips parted as he stepped forward right into her personal space, his hands settling heavily on her hips.

Spike tugged her closer, cautiously circling his arms around her. He sighed as she burrowed into his chest, her nails digging into his shirt. Her eyes fell closed as she rested her cheek against his still chest, inhaling the comforting scent of leather and tobacco on him. He was shocked by the way she suddenly relaxed against him, the feel of her flush against his chest warming him in ways he hadn't felt for a very long time. He swallowed, resting his chin atop her head.

Buffy's eyes watered behind her closed eyelids. She couldn't help the rush of emotion that bubbled inside of her at the feel of him once again taking her into his arms. When they'd been engaged, she remembered feeling peace and acceptance and security like she'd never known.

All of a sudden she yawned, and Spike chuckled at the feel of her warm, parted lips against his cotton-clad chest.

“Tired, luv?” He chuckled when she wordlessly nodded.

He walked her home, watching from behind as she took out her key and unlocked the door. He took a step back, his leather duster swirling around his legs.

Buffy chewed on her bottom lip. “Don't go,” she pleaded softly.

Spike frowned. “Luv?”

She blushed. “C-Can you stay until I fall asleep?”

Spike said nothing, following her into the house.

“I'm just gonna get dressed,” she said, hurrying up the stairs.

The vampire gently closed the door behind him. He glanced up the staircase when Buffy appeared on the top step, wearing a white camisole and her yummy sushi pajama bottoms.

“I'm ready,” she said shyly, clasping her hands behind her back. She tried hard to contain a grin, and her excitement.

It was a surreal feeling, Spike taking the stairs to meet her. He was silent as she turned around and headed for her bedroom, and his head swam when the scent of her seemed to clobber his senses. He removed his duster and then tugged off his boots as she got into bed, watching her as she shifted to make room for him as he followed after her.

Buffy sighed, moving her head to lean it on his shoulder. He took her hand, threading his fingers through hers as he watched her eyelids flutter closed.

Spike shook himself awake when he felt the dawn draw near, surprised that he had even slept at all. He opened his eyes to the sight of Buffy facing him, his knee wedged in between her thighs, their hands still loosely clasped together. He regretted having to move, but they hadn't adjusted her curtains and she would have a pile of ashes for a bedmate once the sun decided to peek its way through.

Buffy whimpered when he slid out of her arms. Her hand tightened around his and her eyes fluttered open. “Spike?”

He smiled at her gently. “Go on back to sleep, luv.”

“Are you leaving?” she asked, anxious.

The vampire nodded toward the window. “Gotta fix the blinds else I fry,” he replied teasingly.

“Oh!” Buffy gasped, her face flushed. She stood up also, tugging at the blinds on the two windows on her side of the room.

The two blondes turned toward each other simultaneously, the bed standing in between them.

“Are...Are you coming back to bed?” she asked shyly.

Spike smiled so wide it hurt, playfully rolling his eyes. “No, I was jus' fixin' the blinds for nothin'.” He chuckled when she pouted, getting on the bed and tugging her in beside him.

“Spike...” she whispered, biting her lip when he moved his face closer to hers.

“Luv,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

Her breath hitched as he laid her down on her back. He pulled back when he smelled her tears, searching her face as if the answers would be written there. Her face crumpled as she began to sob, and he wasted no time in circling his arms around her and pulling her flush against him.

“Talk to me, pet,” Spike urged softly.

Buffy turned around in his arms so that she was spooned against his front. She closed her eyes as he kissed the slope of her shoulder, tightening his embrace. He merely held her when she cried even harder, his cheek pressed against the middle of her back.

“Look at me,” Spike murmured.

She slowly turned around in his arms, shaking when he kissed her again. She threw her arms around his neck, gasping against his mouth. He cupped her cheeks in his hands, brushing away her tears with the pads of his thumbs.

They hurriedly removed their clothing, Spike hissing as her warm body met his. He nudged his erection between her thighs, both of them panting heavily as she raised her legs over his shoulders and whimpered when he began to corkscrew his hips.

“Spike...” she mewled.

He gasped as he slid all the way home, caressing her hipbones as she trembled beneath him.

“Spike!” she pleaded, wriggling against him.

The vampire groaned, slowly withdrawing from her warmth only to slam back in. She pitched her hips up to meet him, writhing as he did it again.

“Please! Please, please, please...”

“Shh,” he murmured, kissing her gently, “I've got you, luv.”

“Unh,” she moaned, throwing her head back and licking her lips.

Spike rocked against her in earnest, filling her to the hilt on every inward stroke. She arched her body against his, lowering her legs to circle them around his waist. He kissed her to swallow her cries, letting out a hiss as she tightened around him.

Suddenly he was on his back, and Buffy was riding him at a gallop. She moaned and squealed as she squeezed his cock, and he couldn't help but sit up to catch a bouncing breast in his mouth.

Buffy gasped, her pussy squeezing around him as she came suddenly. He followed after her with a roar, lifting his hips to submerge himself completely inside her. They gyrated against one another, riding out the orgasm.

The vampire cupped her face in his hands and kissed her sweetly. “Not that I don' appreciate a little bump and grind, Slayer, but I know there was somethin' botherin' you,” he murmured, leaning his forehead against hers.

She scowled, but it lacked intensity.

Spike lowered her onto her back once again, hiding his face in the crook of her neck and inhaling deeply. He could feel the muscles in her throat move as she gave a nervous swallow. He pulled away to glance at her face when he could smell her tears again.

“The spell...” she whispered, her voice cracking.

“Gave you false memories, din't it?” he encouraged her.

Buffy tried to swallow a sob, nodding. He nodded back, kissing her forehead.

“Saw you,” Spike murmured, tortured, “saw what it would've been like if I was actually allowed to love you. Goin' on dates, fightin' by your side, dealin' with things life threw at us...together.”

The Slayer nodded, tears escaping her eyes.

“Felt like we'd been together forever,” he went on, giving her a squeeze. “The implication of us jus' climbin' into bed, bein' able to hold you as we are now felt like a continuation of where we'd left off in those false memories.” Their eyes met. “Know it played out for you the same way, too, if the way you were lookin' at me at The Bronze was any indication.”

Buffy's mouth was dry. “But...it isn't real.”

“Suppose not,” Spike replied bitterly. “But it felt...feels real, doesn' it?”

The girl in his arms suddenly pouted. “You certainly know how to ruin a good afterglow.”

Spike laughed wickedly. “What can I say, luv? M'evil.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Could give you another one.”

“Spike!” she gasped when she felt his newly acquired erection inside her. She bit her lip. “Maybe it'd be better if we just...forget.” Tears collected in her eyes again at the look of anger that flashed across his face.

“You just try to forget this,” he growled, thrusting deeply, bending to swallow her in a kiss. He manipulated her right leg so that it was thrown over his shoulder, slamming his cock inside her repeatedly.

“Unh! Unnnnnhh!” Buffy shrieked, her hands traveling to his shoulders in an effort to push him off her.

Spike took her wrists into his hands, pinning them above her head. He sat up on his knees, pulling Buffy down onto her side, her leg still thrown over his shoulder. He gripped her waist, bruising her golden skin as he pistoned his cock inside her punishingly.

“Oh god oh god oh god oh god!” Buffy cried out. She couldn't help but meet his amber gaze, both a little bit terrified and aroused by the possessive glint in them. The bed frame groaned with the force of his thrusts, and somewhere below they heard a spring in the mattress pop.

He smothered her vocalizations with his mouth, reveling in the dying whimper that escaped her throat as he slid his tongue against hers. Lowering her leg, he pressed himself flush against her body, rocking his hips in controlled circles so that the weight of his pelvis ground unceasingly against her clit. Buffy shouted and trembled, coming over and over again.

“Yeah?” he murmured sotto voce. “How's that feel, Buffy? Feel like somethin' you'd be able to forget?” He continued to swirl his hips, relentless as he moved between her thighs.

“Spike!” Buffy sobbed. “Spike!”

“Yeah,” he growled, rearing his hips to pull his dick out with a wet pop. “Is this mine? Is this pussy mine, Slayer?”

She felt delirious, wanting nothing more than for Spike to invade her once again. She arched into him, her wet heat seeking his member.

Spike softened, his eyes heavy-lidded as he took her hand and kissed the inside of her palm. She trembled against his touch, sighing when he entered her again, his girth stretching her in such a way that she felt...complete.

“Might as well enjoy it while it lasts, yeh?” he said with no inflection, yet his eyes flickered with passion, and the feel of his lips against her palm was electrifying. “Seein' as it'll jus' be a passin' dream tomorrow.”

He continued to dip his dick into her hot heat, moving backward slightly so both of them had a view of where they were connected. Buffy gasped, watching him disappear inside of her, her nails biting into his chest.

“Please,” Spike murmured, beseeching her with his eyes, “be my Buffy.”

Buffy closed her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she surged her hips against his, then cupped his face in her hands and lifted her head to kiss him sweetly.

Spike groaned, kissing back with equal intensity. He slid his arms around her, sliding his cock inside her at a leisurely pace.

“Baby...” she cooed when his lips slid down to her neck.

“God, I love you,” he breathed, pressing his mouth to hers.

Buffy whimpered, sucking on his tongue.

He groaned again, surging against her harder, faster.

“God, Spike!” she cried, grasping at his hips and spreading her legs wider to welcome him.

He cradled her to him, gasping when she nipped at his shoulder. “Say it,” he said desperately. “Tell me...”

“Love you,” she sobbed, wrapping her arms and legs around him tightly. “Love you, Spike.”

The bleach blond trembled above her. She ushered him onto his back, rising up on her knees to cradle the head of his cock at her slick opening before sinking slowly back down. He pitched his hips to meet her until they found a rhythm they could dance to, their bodies undulating against each other as they continued to make love.

Spike sat up, closing his eyes and sighing at the feel of her pebbled nipples dragging along his chest, their abdomens flush against each other as they moved sinuously together.

Buffy melted against him, resting her head on his shoulder. The vampire stopped all movement except to slide his hands up and down her arms. He moved her onto her back, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

“Wanna come inside you one more time,” he pleaded, kissing the tops of her breasts.

She nodded. “Please.”

“You love it when I fill you up, don' you?” he murmured, moving against her.

Buffy nodded again, this time a little more urgent. “Spike, please...”

“Don' have to beg, luv. You know I'm gonna give it to you,” he said, kissing her gently. “Love you.”

“Oh god, Spike, love you, love you...” she sobbed, pitching her hips, squeezing her pussy around him.

Spike grunted, thrusting upwards against her gspot as she was clutched around him. She screamed, squeezing him harder, sending them barreling toward another powerful orgasm.

He withdrew from her slowly only to press his palm against her slickness.

“Love the feel of you an' me right here,” he murmured, sliding a finger into their sticky spendings.

“Oh—god--” Buffy whimpered as he trailed their wetness over her hipbones, coated her nipples with it.

He suckled on her breast, then smeared it all over her mouth.

When she darted out her tongue to taste it, they started all over again.

~~

Buffy awoke to the incessant ringing of the doorbell downstairs. “God, don't they know what time it is?” she groaned, her voice hoarse from the evening's activities. She threw her arm over her eyes, attempting to yank the blanket over her head and making a sound of dismay when it appeared to be tethered in place.

“Actually, luv, it's almost four o'clock,” Spike spoke up, chuckling from his spot on top of said blanket.

She shot up. “What?!” she shrieked. She glared at him. “Why didn't you wake me?”

The bleach blond shrugged. “S'my usual sleepin' pattern.”

Buffy stood up, looking for her pajamas. Once she was dressed she went for the door, coming to a hard stop when she peered at herself in the mirror. “You were going to have me go downstairs like this, weren't you?” she deadpanned, remarking on the way her hair looked like a bird's nest.

He gave a wide smirk. “Thought about it.”

Buffy felt butterflies. She giggled and slid into his lap, pressing a teasing kiss to his lips.

Spike looked shocked, but recovered quickly. They jumped when the doorbell rang again. The vampire tackled her onto her back, seizing the opportunity to steal another kiss.

“Um, it could be important--” Buffy said, her voice muffled by his lips.

“What if it's Red?” he asked quietly, sounding morose. He absentmindedly smoothed her hair.

The phone started to ring. Buffy worried her lower lip.

“Do we... Should we ask her to do a forgetting spell?” she squeaked, wringing her hands.

“Oh—bloody--” Spike snarled, grabbing the phone and shoving it at her.

“Hello?” Buffy asked into the receiver shakily.

“Hey, Buff,” Willow said on the other end. “Is everything okay? I've been trying to call you since ten, and I'm outside your door and I was just worried--”

The Slayer seemed to deflate on the spot. “Yeah. Yeah, everything's okay. I, uh, got to bed really late last night. I'm coming down right now. Is Giles wigging?”

“Um, a little. He said you seemed upset last night.”

Buffy glanced at Spike, who was looking at anything but her. “I'm coming down now, Wills. Give me a sec.” She hung up the phone. “Um, so I guess we should both go down there together.”

Spike's eyebrows could have left the planet, they'd risen up so high. “What?” he sputtered.

She blushed at his strong reaction. “I-I just figured there was no use in lying if we planned on forgetting about it anyway...remember?” Her voice broke at the end, and her green eyes begged him to comply. “Sp-Spike?” she stammered when he didn't answer straight away.

“Right,” he sighed, rising to his feet. “Off we go, then.”

The Slayer felt numb as she led the way downstairs, and found herself depersonalizing everything even as the loud sound of their footsteps clambering down the staircase overwhelmed the strained silence between them. Spike sat on the couch, crossing his foot on top of his knee, jiggling it impatiently as he waited for Buffy to let the offending witch in.

“Hi, Buffy,” Willow greeted her, then raised her eyebrows when she realized her best friend was still in her pajamas.

“Hi,” Buffy said stiffly, closing the door behind her. “Um, listen, I wanted to ask you a favor...”

She looked immediately guilty. “The forgetting spell, right? I'm so sorry, Buffy. But if we do the spell we're gonna have to get Spike here. I know that's really awkward, but...”

The Slayer shook her head just as Spike emerged from the living room.

“Oh, uh, hey...” Willow said weakly.

Spike nodded once. “Here an' accounted for.”

The redhead's mouth went dry. “What... What's...” Her eyes alternated between Buffy's nightclothes and the vampire's bare feet. “Oh god. This is my fault.”

“A little bit, yeah,” the bleach blond snarled, crossing his arms to his chest and tapping his foot against the wooden floor impatiently.

Willow worried her bottom lip. “The sun's still up. Uh, I can get everything I need from the Magic Box and come back here. Unless you want to wait. Do you want to wait? We can wait. I can wait here with you! Unless... waiting isn't of the good.”

Buffy and Spike glanced at each other hesitantly.

“Luv?” Spike prompted.

“Um, we'll wait... here?” Buffy said, wincing.

Willow was more than relieved to leave the house.

Spike returned to the couch. Buffy felt sick. She couldn't look at him, yet the only thing she wanted to do was launch herself in his arms. She settled for pacing instead.

“Buffy,” Spike murmured.

Her head shot up as she glanced at him quickly.

“C'mere,” he told her, holding out his hand.

Buffy hated herself for whimpering, for wasting no time in rushing to his side, for meeting him in desperation and intensity when he grabbed her face and kissed her. “I don't want to forget,” she sniffled. “I don't want to...”

Spike kissed her again, traced her tears. They sat in silence, clinging to each other's hands. A little under an hour later the door swung open again and Willow walked into the living room, her resolve face firmly in place.

“Alright,” Willow breathed, her gaze lingering on their joined hands, “let's do this.”

The two blondes stood by as Willow casted her circle, in the middle of which was a bowl, two sprigs of a dried plant, a translucent crystal, and matches.

“For Buffy, Spike, these I char.
Let Lethe's Bramble do its chore.
Purge their minds of memories grim,
of pains from recent sights and sins.
When the fire goes out,
the crystal turns black,
the spell will be cast.
Tabula Rasa, Tabula Rasa, Tabula Rasa.”


Buffy and Spike watched tremulously as Willow lit the dry sprigs on fire. The crystal in the middle of the circle indeed turned black, and the plant seemed to absorb the flame. She closed the circle before stepping out of it and handing each one to Buffy and Spike respectively.

The vampire stared at the charred branchlet. “So?”

“When you sleep tonight, or uh, tomorrow morning, put those under your pillow. It will purge everything having to do with the spell,” Willow instructed, pursing her lips in a tight, thin line.

Spike snarled. “What? It's not instantaneous?”

Beside him, Buffy looked bereft.

“I-I'm sorry, that's just how the spell works!” the Wiccan insisted. She faced the Slayer, looking all shades of apologetic. “Buffy, Giles wanted to see you at the shop. D-Do you... want to walk there together?”

The blonde was still staring at the sprig in her palm. “I think I'm gonna take a nap.”

“An' what the hell am I gonna do?” Spike exploded.

“I don't know!” Buffy screeched, flailing. “Take one on the couch!”

Spike and Willow watched helplessly as she stomped up the stairs.

“Did... Did you guys have sex?” Willow asked plaintively, wringing her hands.

He scowled, turning toward the living room. “You sure've got a lot of nerve.”

Upstairs, Buffy paced at the foot of her bed, the Lethe's Bramble held delicately in the palm of her hand. She breathed out a sigh before shoving it underneath her pillow, climbing into bed only for her knee to hit a damp spot on the mattress. Her eyes watered as she realized that her sheets still smelled faintly of cigarettes.

“Please fall asleep, please fall asleep,” she mumbled to herself as her head hit the pillow, tears escaping her closed eyelids.

She was asleep before she even realized.

Buffy awoke an hour later, feeling refreshed. She yawned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes before stepping into the bathroom. Her stomach protested just as she sat on the toilet to do her business. She'd forgotten that she hadn't eaten since last night.

She made her way downstairs after washing her hands and brushing her hair, stepping into the kitchen to make herself a peanut butter and honey sandwich. Just as she was biting into the soft bread, a streak of unnatural blonde hair caught her eye somewhere in the living room.

She brought the plate and the sandwich with her, realization dawning on her that she still remembered everything from last night. In addition to the peanut butter making the roof of her mouth sticky, her throat was now dry. She rushed into the kitchen in a panic, keeping an eye on Spike in her peripheral vision. He'd yet to wake up. She wondered if the spell had been a failure for him as well.

Buffy drained a glass of milk, gasping. She decided that she'd pretend that the spell had worked. Besides, it wouldn't do to fuck with his head even further if it indeed had.

She saw Spike stir on the couch. She shoved the rest of the sandwich into her mouth, giving herself a reason not to go over to him and find out if his memory had been wiped. Had she not slept long enough? Was there a certain duration she had to remain unconscious before the spell could work its magic?

Buffy scowled, pouring herself some more milk. Magic sucked.

On the couch, Spike slowly opened his eyes. He saw the beginning colors of dusk in the sky out the window, feeling rested and renewed and really bloody hungry. The bleach blond sat up, freezing when he saw Buffy standing in the kitchen, her back to him.

Fuck! The spell hadn't worked. At least not for him, and he knew it'd rip his heart right out of his chest if he tried to actively find out if it had worked for her.

The sun was almost down. He decided that he'd do something he never did before...

...he would fake it til he made it.

“Slayer, how'd I end up on your couch?” he grimaced. He didn't even need to pretend to be irritated. He was starving as all fuck.

She whipped around, surprise all over her face. “Um,” she replied unintelligibly.

When she didn't reply, he scowled. “Lost your mind then, did you? Is that why I'm here? Babysittin' the half-witted Slayer?” He flinched when she flinched.

Buffy had no idea how to conduct herself. She shrugged. “Um, I honestly have no clue,” she replied wearily, not even making an effort to snark at him.

Spike was quiet for a long moment, watching her. “You got any blood in the freezer? Feels like I haven't fed all night.”

Thankful for a distraction, Buffy rushed to the refrigerator. She tossed him a bag of blood, and he crossed the room to throw it in the microwave. The phone rang, and the Slayer rushed to answer it.

“Did it work?” Willow asked on the other line, sounding breathless.

Buffy had half a mind to process what she should say. “Did what work?”

“Oh, um, y-you asked me earlier about a... um... research website?”

The blonde rolled her eyes. Had the spell affected Willow instead? The last thing she'd inquire the redhead about was a research website of all things. “Uh, um, yeah. Got everything all outlined... and stuff.” She winced.

“Great!” Willow cried. “Uh, are you on your way here? Giles is looking for you.”

“Yeah, give me a minute to freshen up. I just woke up from a nap,” Buffy said distractedly, watching in her peripheral vision as Spike opened the microwave to turn the bag over.

“Blood is bloody hard to thaw out equally,” he grumbled, poking at the bag and scowling at the incongruent red icebergs floating in their prison.

Behind him, Buffy giggled. His eyes widened as he swung around, catching her deer-in-the-headlights look. Giggling...the normal Buffy wouldn't giggle at him. He narrowed his eyes.

“What's so funny, Slayer?”

She managed to catch herself. “Your schadenfreude, obviously,” she replied, rolling her eyes.

“Din't know you knew words longer than your last name,” he sneered, stepping closer to her. His eyes grew narrower still when her heart rate jumped.

She crossed her arms to her chest. “You're a dick,” she retorted.

Spike gave a cruel chortle. “An' you'd know, right, pet? Gettin' to be a real connoisseur of 'em after Angelus kicked you to the curb.” He fought the urge to run and sweep her up in his arms at the naked hurt on her face.

Buffy sniffed sharply, merely turning away and stomping up the stairs. “You better be gone by the time I come back down here or else you'll be small enough to fit into an ashtray!” she gritted out.

He smelled her tears. He had to dig his nails into his thigh to hold himself back from chasing after her. “Sing me another song, luv!” he hollered.

“If you throw the blood in boiling water you'll be out of my hair a lot faster!” Buffy yelled matter-of-factly from upstairs.

Spike paused, then grabbed a medium sized pot from a cabinet on the bottom of the kitchen island. He heard the shower turn on just as he finished filling it halfway with water and sitting it on one of the front burners. Once the blood bag thawed completely, he drained it before tossing the pot in the sink and going for the back door.

He turned his head and looked at the sink again. It'd be thoughtful of him to wash the pan off and return it to its proper place, no?

He shrugged. Nah. He was supposed to be evil, after all.

He cocked his head, listening to the shower. His pants tightened instantly at the thought of her golden, glistening skin under the spray. Fuck. Why hadn't the spell worked?

He stopped and turned to approach the staircase. Something was off, he decided. He knew the Slayer, and he was certain that she didn't usually trust him to behave with her personal property all available to him while she was upstairs indulging in a shower.

He climbed the stairs, then leaned against the bathroom door. He knocked twice with his knuckle. “Sweetheart?” he chanced.

Spike pushed the door open when he heard something fall.

Behind the shower curtain, Buffy sniffled. He watched the lithe, blurry outline of her body crouch down to pick up whatever she had dropped. Unable to temper his patience anymore, he grabbed at the plain white curtain, ripping it open.

“Why are you pretending it worked?” he demanded, taking in her petite, nude body.

Standing in front of him, Buffy burst into tears. Spike tugged her into his arms, ignoring how soaked his shirt was getting as the Slayer buried her face in his chest.

“Didn't wanna know,” she sniffled. “Didn't wanna know if it worked for you or not,” she admitted, gripping his biceps.

Spike sighed, kissing her softly. “M'sorry I said those things, pet.”

She only nodded. “You were pretty convincing,” she remarked, sounding hollow.

“I din' mean it,” he enthused.

She nodded again. “I know... I know that now.” She took a deep breath. “We have to figure out why it didn't work.” She looked at him. “H-How did you know?”

Spike smirked. “You don' usually leave me to my devices while you toddle off to take a shower. Or give me tips on how to heat up my blood.”

Buffy blushed. “Oh.”

“Still soapy,” he uttered seductively. He put her down, then made quick work of taking off his clothes. “Let's get you cleaned up, hey?”

“Still dirty,” she teased, looking pointedly at his hair sticking up all over the place.

He waggled his eyebrows. “Never stopped bein' dirty, luv.” He ushered her into the tub and pressed her against the tile. “Think we'll start with a little deep cleanin',” he purred, sliding a finger in her pussy.

“Unh,” Buffy whimpered.

“Little tender, are we?” he asked softly, moving the digit gently.

“I don't think tender's the word,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

“Go gentle on you,” he murmured, adding another finger.

“Please...”

“Love you,” Spike said, sliding inside her.

“Ohhhh!”

Mindful of her soreness, he merely circled his hips against hers, making no sudden movements to pull out or thrust. “I do, Buffy. Love you,” he admitted, playing with her clit.

She nodded in agreement. “Love you,” she echoed weakly.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, moving against her as she crested again and again. He allowed himself to come after her fourth orgasm, then graced her with a smile when she rubbed shampoo into his hair.

“I'm curious. What memories were you given?” Buffy asked, having him duck under the spray to rinse the soap out of his hair.

“They were bloody weird,” he remarked, sounding incredulous. “Think I lived in a spaceship.”

She bit the inside of her cheek. “Think I got pregnant,” she said quietly, then shook her head.

“And I got a--” “And then you--”

Buffy grinned. “You got a soul. Right?” She barked out a laugh, snorting. “Like you'd ever!”

Spike shook his head, guffawing right alongside her. “Maybe that's why the forgetting spell didn't work,” he said, clutching his sides. “They were all unbelievable in the firs' place.”




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