One Perfect Night
by spikeslovebite

Part One

Buffy stomped through the tombstones, righteous in her anger and wallowing in her hurt feelings.

“It’s only the most important night in a girl’s life next to her wedding night. WHICH, by the way, HE already got!” She heaved a great, hiccupping sigh. “And of course THAT went over just fantabulously—NOT!”

So distracted was she by her tearful rant, she didn’t notice the black-clad figure sprawled atop one of the larger grave markers.

“I’ll show him. I will. I’ll find someone else to take me. If he thinks I’m going to just sit at home and cry yet another bucket of tears over him, he’s out of his freakin’ mind,” she muttered.

“Bloody hell, Slayer, would you please shut your gob? ‘M tryin’ to sleep it off over here.”

She leapt back with a startled yelp, her hand flying towards the hidden stake before she realized who it was.

“Oh God. Bad penny much, Spike?”

“Sod off,” he snarled. Showing a surprising disregard for his vulnerable position, he gave her his back, trying to squirm into a more comfortable position on the hard stone.

“What are you doing back here yet AGAIN?” she demanded. Why she didn’t just ignore the drunken menace and go her own way escaped her. Maybe deep down she felt that her day hadn’t been miserable enough and Spike could be the cherry that topped it off.

The unbidden image of said vampire covered in whipped cream and cherries brought a sudden burst of saliva to her mouth. Horrified by her traitorous thoughts, she had to struggle to remember why her day had been such a crap-fest in the first place.

Breaking up with soul-having vampire boyfriend in the sewers? Check. Discovering that majorly gross hellhounds were being trained to crave prom-shaped appetizers? Check. Running into your mortal enemy while at the lowest point of your existence? Check, check.

Could her life get any more pathetic?

Spike ignored her and started to yowl ‘My Way’ at the top of his lungs.

She had to ask…

“Hey, Frankie, can it before you wake the dead!” she snapped, covering her ears against the decidedly non-melodious assault.

He flopped onto his back and turned widened blue eyes in her direction. “Don’t tell me you know who Frank Sinatra is, Slayer?”

“You’ve met my mom.” Buffy couldn’t help the little deprecating smile that teased her lips.

“That I have. Right nice lady, too. Wasn’t singin’ ol’ Blue Eyes’ version though, little girl. Was singin’ Sid’s version.”

“Sid?” Her eyebrows scrunched as she tried to place the name.

Spike sighed. “She knows Frank Sinatra, but has no clue who Sid Vicious is,” he lamented. “What a fucked up world.”

She stepped forward and prodded his shoulder with an impatient finger. “You never answered my question, fang-face.”

Spike twitched his shoulder away from her and glared from one bleary eye. “Do what I bloody wanna do, you cheeky bint. Now, hands off the leather and lemme ‘lone.”

She folded her arms under her breasts and smirked knowingly. “Why does this whole thing strike me as yet another Drusilla-esque tragedy? Did the old ‘tie-up-and-torture’ not do it for her this time? Maybe you two should see a marriage counselor or something. Might put the zip back in your relationship,” she taunted, her voice just dripping with faux sympathy.

He was on his feet and nose to nose with her before she could blink. Whoa! Who knew a drunken vamp could still move so fast and why had she never noticed that his eyes were a mixture of every shade of blue ever known?

Spike must have sensed the sudden screeching derailment of her thought train, because instead of blistering her ears for daring to sully Dru’s not-so-pristine name, he smiled slyly and pressed himself deliberately against her.

“Why, Buffy. Sweet little Slayer of mine. One would think you were… jealous, perhaps?” The lilt his rough accent added to her name combined with the tiny nudge of his lower body into hers caused her mouth to fall open with a breathy gasp.

“You wish.” She made a great show of sniffing and then curling her nose in distaste before putting a little distance between them. “Jeez, Spike. What did you do, marinate yourself in tequila?”

The infuriating smirk was firmly back in place. He hadn’t missed the sudden hike in her pulse rate when he had so thoroughly invaded her space.

Interesting.

“Where’s your sweetie-bear tonight, pet? Thought the two of you would be joined at the hip, seein’ as how you can’t be joined at the…”

Her fist flew at his nose. In spite of all the alcohol he had consumed, his reflexes were still lightening fast. He caught and held it effortlessly. When the other fist met the same fate, she glared at him through narrowed eyes.

“What goes on between me and Angel is none of your business, Spike. Or didn’t I make that clear enough the last time you dragged your drunken carcass into town?”

“Well, luv, since there actually isn’t anything going on besides longing looks and much broodiness between you and my oh-so-sober grandsire, I’d say there really isn’t much business to barge in on, right?”

Buffy jerked her hands free of his and forced herself not to rub where his had touched.

“Like you really care. Are you going to regale me with your little ‘love is blood’ pity-ditty again?”

He shrugged. “Why waste the effort? It’s obvious that both of you are too bloody stupid to appreciate it since you’re still making with the Shakespearean tragedy of a romance.” Leaning one hip against a convenient grave marker, he busied himself with lighting a smoke, missing the flinch of pain his words caused.

Her eyes followed his hands as he lit the cigarette and then flipped the lighter closed, captivated by each unconsciously graceful movement. A quick shake of the head brought her back from the bad place where she was comparing Spike’s hands to Angel’s.

“I don’t have time for this tonight. Let’s just take a rain check on the whole ‘I stake your undead ass’, shall we? The way my luck has been lately, you wouldn’t dust; you’d just melt into a huge puddle of alcohol. I just want to go home.”

His crack of laughter rang out over the bone yard. “Just who woke up whom, Slayer? I was perfectly happy sleeping it off when you came thundering through with your whining and muttering and kicking fit. Come on, ‘fess up. Did you and your luvvie have a tiff?”

The scathing retort she had planned on died on her lips. The events of the day finally caught up with her and brought the sting of tears to her eyes. She turned her head away to hide the sudden flood of moisture from him. Wouldn’t he just have a field day with that?

Her weakness made her defensive. “As if I would give you any details. This unending rivalry between you and Angel is really demented and sad, you know that, right?”

Refusing to rise to the bait, he merely shrugged. “No secret that I hate the bastard with the fire of a thousand suns, pet.”

Sudden inspiration struck her and she stared at the platinum-haired menace intently. The beginnings of a plan were tickling at her. It was crazy, but it just might work. “Mm hmm. You’re right, it isn’t. And he feels the same way about you, doesn’t he?”

The gleam in her eye was making Spike nervous. “Well, yeah. Imagine so.”

She stepped towards a wary Spike and reached out slowly to rub her fingers over the lapel of his duster. She made her eyes go as wide and innocent as possible and gazed up at him with an adoring smile.

“Spike?” she said in the most sugary sweet voice she could manage.

He looked at her like she was a swaying cobra, completely fascinated by the softness in her expression. This was a side of the Slayer he’d seldom seen, and never, ever directed at him. “Wot?” he managed to get out.

“Will you go to the Prom with me?”

The stunned disbelief on his face was priceless. “You want me to take you to your soddin’ Prom?”

“Uh huh.” Pulling out all the stops, she fluttered her eyelashes with the deadly finesse of a seasoned southern belle. If this didn’t work she still had the patented Summers pout in her arsenal. It galled her that she had to put forth so much effort for Spike of all people, but his cooperation was imperative for her plan to work.

Spike folded his arms across his chest and glowered down at her. “You can drop the Disney damsel act, Slayer. ‘M not buyin’ it.” He tilted his head back and stared down his handsome nose. “And just so you know, I was cuttin’ through the sewers earlier. Overheard the whole sad and pathetic exchange between you and Peaches.”

Her demeanor changed in the blink of an eye, her vapidly happy expression changing to a ferocious frown. “Eavesdropping is very rude. That was clearly a private conversation, Spike.”

He snorted derisively. “Wasn’t a conversation at all, luv. That was your sainted Angel ripping out your little heart and stomping it into the muck.” An uneasy frown drifted over his features as he recalled all that had occurred the night his Dru had found him heart broken and soul bleeding in that ill-fated alley. Buffy was certainly handling it better than his former poncy self had, he thought bitterly.

“’Sides, ‘s not like I enjoyed it. Was bloody awful having to stand there and listen to the two if you spout such drivel. ‘M actually feeling a bit violated by it all,” he said, making a hideous face.

“Now who’s jealous?” Buffy couldn’t help but say snippily. “It must be frustrating to always come out second best.”

Narrowed blue eyes flickered yellow briefly. “You know, I’m usually more receptive to suggestion when I’m not being grossly insulted.”

If Buffy had learned anything about Spike, it was the fact that when he was extremely angry, all traces of his lower end accent disappeared and the posh, Giles-like accent came through.

“You must not need my help as badly as you thought,” he said, turning to walk away.

tbc

Part Two

She started to just let him walk away. She SHOULD let him walk away. Something told her that this strange and unusual attraction she was suddenly feeling towards the bleached-blond bane of her existence could only lead to trouble.

Desperation prevailed, however. Angel would never believe that she and Xander were dating and everyone else had already been asked. Even Jonathan had a date. Or so he kept insisting.

“I’m sorry!” she threw at his retreating figure. “Come on, Spike, I mean it. I’m really, really sorry. Please?”

He stopped. “I suppose you’ll want me all trussed up in one of those soddin’ penguin suits,” he said without turning around.

Buffy twisted her hands together in front of her, feeling certain that if she told him all that it entailed he would just keep walking.

“Well, you see… It’s a dance and the girls wear formal dresses and the guys…”

“I know what a bloody prom is, Slayer,” Spike interrupted. “D’you have any idea how many times I had to sit through ‘Pretty in Pink’ with Dru?” With a resigned sigh he turned and came back to stand in front of her.

“Oh? Well, good. I had to explain it to Angel. He wasn’t thrilled by the prospect.”

“Well, he wouldn’t be, what with that pesky soul. Proms are like a smorgasbord for our kind, luv. ‘Specially with all that virgin blood just pumping away.”

Her hazel eyes flashed indignantly. “There will be no ‘all-you-can-eat buffet’ at my Prom, Spike!” Her wicked smirk rivaled his for evilness. “Besides, it’s highly unlikely that there will be any virgins there. Female virgins, anyway.”

Against his will, his eyes flickered down to rest on her chest. “What about an all-you-can-eat ‘Buffy’?”

“Would that be blood you want to chow down on or something with a little more…flavor, maybe?” she asked with a saucy wink. Flirting just wasn’t fun when your partner was constantly on his guard against evil sexual innuendos. It was something she missed, and who would have thought that flirting with Spike could be so exhilarating?

He did that neat little trick with his tongue when he returned her smile. Where before it had irked her to no end, tonight her reaction was a sudden urge to rub her thighs together for a little friction.

“So, you’re wanting me to take you to this shindig to piss off your sweetie?” he said, guessing at her plans. At her slow nod of affirmation, he gave a nonchalant shrug. “I’m in. Anything that pisses Peaches off is a good thing in my book. Although…” He crowded close to her again. “Wouldn’t say no to just a little taste first. See if the flavor is to my liking. Never know, Slayer, I might like it enough to sample… other things.”

Air was suddenly an issue. The way he had tilted his head as he spoke and the dark midnight of his eyes completely stole her breath. There was also the fact that he wasn’t staring at her neck, but skating his eyes over her body in a way that made her stomach muscles clench deliciously.

Focus. Focus, Buffy. The mission was to make Angel seethe with jealousy, nothing else. And really, who better to accomplish this than Spike? No one pushed Angel’s buttons quite like his unruly grandchilde. It could work. All she had to do was ensure the unpredictable vampire’s cooperation.

“A little taste? I think not.” She shook her head and moved a fraction of an inch away. “I give you a taste now and you’ll try to weasel out of your end of the bargain. I’m not stupid, Spike. I know how perverse you can be. ”

“Not when it’s something that could benefit me,” he stated emphatically, taking back the space she had tried to put between them. “’M not talking about biting, Slayer. Yet.”

That ‘yet’ shouldn’t have affected her as much as it did. “Then what are you talking about?” she asked, fighting to keep the anticipatory tremor from her voice.

“A kiss.”

“A kiss?” She wouldn’t have been more surprised if he had sprouted yellow feathers and hopped around singing the theme from ‘Sesame Street’. “Oh sure. No Problem.” Shrugging, she placed her hands on his chest and leaned in to press a chaste kiss on his lips.

Spike’s harsh bark of laughter made her scowl. “You call that a kiss? Newsflash, princess, I ain’t the poof. Gonna take a little more effort on your part to earn my full cooperation.”

Without giving her time to pull away, his hard fingers closed around the back of her neck. Snaking his free arm around her waist, he hauled her close and covered her surprised mouth with his.

The one prevailing fact that raced through her mind was that Spike kissed nothing like Angel. Angel was careful and restrained, as if he were reluctant to surrender even a small piece of himself. But Spike…

Ohhh, Spike!

He kissed with everything that he had and used his whole body to do it. He licked and nibbled, sipped and plundered, his tongue slipping easily past the barrier of her lips to twist and suck lightly at hers. A slight tilt of the head from one side to the other changed the whole approach from voraciously devouring to seductively enthralling. Soft swipes of his tongue encouraged hers to come out and play and with a sigh she gave in.

The hand resting at the base of her spine clenched, his fingers digging lightly into her flesh as he pressed her urgently into his throbbing erection.

The other hand left her neck and traced over her collarbone before coming to rest on her chest, fingers splayed over the pounding cadence of her heart. The gesture was unconsciously tender and raised a shiver within her.

When he finally lifted his head, Buffy was completely shaken by the force of emotion his lips had evoked. If she were brutally honest with herself she would have to admit that Angel had never rocked her foundations with their one sexual experience, let alone a single kiss.

Spike was having more than a little difficulty regrouping. The incredible softness of her plush lips and the fiery warmth searing him through two layers of denim nearly had him spinning completely out of control. Not that he would ever let the Slayer know it. He pulled away from her reluctantly.

“So, pet, I assume you already have some kind of slinky dress picked out?” He prayed she wouldn’t notice the slight trace of unsteadiness in his voice as he ran his hands up her ribs to rest just under her breasts. Daringly, he allowed his thumbs to brush over and then circle the hard protrusions of her nipples as they pressed against her shirt.

Buffy nodded dazedly, still stunned that Spike—evil, soulless Spike—could have such an affect on her. She recovered enough to cast him a skeptical look.

“You’ll never convince me that you actually care what my dress looks like, Spike.”

He grinned, pressing a bit harder on her distended nipples and grinding his cock into her cleft. The fact that she hadn’t made the slightest move to back away from his attentions told him all he needed to know about her state of mind. He was determined to enjoy this as much as possible before she came to her senses and tried to drive a Redwood through his chest.

“Oh, alright, you got me there. Sod the dress; what kinda knickers are you gonna be wearing underneath it? I imagine it’s strapless, yeah?” When she nodded his eyes lit up. “Got one of them bustier thingies? And maybe a pair of those butt-floss knickers that are all the rage?”

She couldn’t help but laugh at his term for thong underwear. It was more than a little obvious how the subject of her lingerie was making him even harder as he rubbed against her. The continuous circling motions of his narrow hips were driving her to distraction; her entire lower region felt like it was on fire. Deciding to try and get a little of her own back, she smiled slyly up at him and ran a fingernail up his chest.

“Who said anything about ‘knickers’?” she teased.

The words inflamed him, causing him to lunge up into her with a rough moan. Buffy squeaked and dug her nails into his chest. “Spike!”

“Bloody well tryin’ to kill me, Slayer,” he rasped as he buried his face in her neck and gave her thrumming jugular a yearning lick.

She shuddered uncontrollably at the forbidden contact. “W-well don’t get too carried away, because you WILL be wearing a Tux.”

“Yeah, yeah. Won’t be the first time I’ve been forced into one. Just know that I WON’T be wearing any knickers.”

Slipping one hand behind her, he tried to be stealthy about sliding his fingers down the back of her low-slung jeans. “Speaking of butt-floss… You wearin’ that kind right now, Slayer?” Finding what he sought, he slipped his fingers beneath the flimsy strip of cloth that nestled between the lush globes of her arse and gave it a cheeky tug.

That finally got her to leap out of his hold. “Spike!” she shouted, blushing furiously. She tried to look threatening but failed miserably. Her previous melancholy mood had improved far too much just being near him to be able to hold on to her indignation.

Spike winked at her, tickled that he had managed to rattle her so badly.

“I’d let you return the favor, Slayer, but I never seem to remember to wear mine.”

The urge was irresistible. Of course her eyes dropped below his belt. And widened appreciatively as she took in how his erection pressed against the zip of his jeans.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” The words fell from her mouth before she could stop them and she inwardly cringed at how ignorant she sounded.

A slow, sexy grin crept across his face. No way was Spike letting that little gem pass without comment.

“Well, yeah. But if I let it out it’s a bitch to get the damned thing caged again.” He reached down and started undoing his belt. “I can show you if you like…”

“No!” she burst out. “I-I’ll just take your word for it.”

His devious laughter brought her blood to a slow simmer. “You just think if you start stripping and showing off your goodies that I will, don’t you?”

Spike pressed a hand to his chest. “Goodies? You wound me, luv. And besides, I don’t like to brag, but I wouldn’t even have to take off a stitch of your clothing to get you off.”

She tried her patented eyeroll of disbelief, but Spike knew she was intrigued—and aroused—by just the idea of it being possible.

“You can’t tell me that you and Angel don’t writhe around doing anything but the actual deed,” he insisted, unsettled by how much the thought of her doing the things he imagined with his grandsire riled his demon.

Hearing the name of her boyfriend—scratch that, Buff…ex-boyfriend—dampened the mood for her somewhat.

“We… We kiss, yes,” she said, painfully aware of how juvenile and pathetic that sounded even to her own ears.

“Standing up or lying down? Lots of rolling around and dry humping, I’ll wager. Does he nibble on your ears, or let you suck on his neck? Maybe a little recreational biting?” He started pacing in front of her, continuing relentlessly, using coarse language she had never heard before to paint a screamingly vivid picture.

“Does he worship those pretty little titties with his mouth? Or does he go down on you, Slayer? Use his mouth to suck up all those sweet Slayer juices that are practically running down your legs right this minute?”

Both of them were breathing hard by the time he forced himself to stop. Buffy’s mouth had dropped open and her eyes were impossibly wide. Her body went horribly tense and she crossed her arms in front of herself to try and contain the ache within that screamed for release. She stared at him in horrified fascination, because when he said those things, it wasn’t Angel that she pictured in her mind.

It was HIM.

Part Three 

Her mouth felt as dry as the desert and flapped soundlessly a few times before she was able to force anything past her lips.

“A-Angel doesn’t… That is…” She bit her lip savagely to try and stem the tears that threatened. “Kissing is all that he feels comfortable with,” she said miserably. “With th-the soul thing… It’s just not safe.”

“And you think that you can be content with that, Slayer? A sensual, passionate creature such as yourself?” His voice shook the slightest bit as he looked her up and down. In his opinion there would be no greater crime, but it was her delusion, her decision, and something told him if he pushed her she would continue to cling stubbornly to her sweet little dream of eternal happiness with tall, dark, and broody.

Still, he couldn’t resist giving her just the slightest nudge.

“Don’t you miss it, Buffy?” His use of her given name was deliberate, as was the seductive timbre of his voice. “Being that close to someone.” He moved until there was barely air between them, lashes falling to half-mast as he held her eyes prisoner. “The sexual tension building up between the two of you until you feel like you’re burning from within.”

She had the look of a frightened doe staring down a deadly cougar, but he refused to back away.

“Feeling their hands on you,” he went on, resting his hands on her waist, sliding them over her hipbones and around to knead her bottom. “And your hands on them, learning every inch of flesh through your fingertips.”

Mesmerized by the huskiness of his voice so close to her ear, Buffy obediently lifted her hands and ran them up the supple leather sleeves of his duster, wishing she was touching his cool, smooth skin instead.

Some instinct led him to acquiesce to her silent wish. With a few graceful shrugs the coat slid from his arms to puddle around their feet. A sibilant sigh escaped her as the pads of her fingers skimmed over then curled around the swells of his biceps.

“The flick of a tongue on your ear.” Spike traced the delicate shell of her ear, blowing a deliciously cool stream of air over the moisture he left behind. “And your neck.” He followed the line of her throbbing vein down to where her neck met her shoulder. The perfect spot. He bit down gently with blunt teeth, her breathless moan hardening his entire body.

“Biting,” he murmured. “’S foreplay for both demons and humans. Soft nibbles.” He demonstrated. “Or a little something more…” He allowed his fangs to drop a fraction without shifting fully, deliberately nicking her. Buffy jumped the slightest bit at the sting and scarlet beads welled up along the shallow cut. Spike laved the area with his tongue, both to soothe the tingle and to relish his first taste of Slayer’s blood in almost a hundred years.

His demon was clamoring for him to sink his fangs into that tender, succulent flesh and drain her, but Spike quashed it ruthlessly. He had bigger and better plans for this girl and sucking her dry had no part in them. Leaving the temptation of her fragrant neck, he lifted his head and claimed her mouth in a searing, almost brutal kiss.

Buffy didn’t even begin to think of denying him. Any residual guilt she might have felt because of Angel died beneath the onslaught of Spike’s lips on hers. She practically threw herself into him, her nails digging into his arms as she lifted one knee and rubbed it yearningly against his hip, a sigh drifting from her lips as his cock nestled into her crotch.

Her reactions to his efforts brought Spike a feeling of deep satisfaction. He was right. She did miss this. No way was this girl going to be content with chaste kisses for the rest of her life.

Wrapping a hand around her thigh, he snugged his erection tighter between her thighs and skillfully maneuvered her until her hips were resting on the stone slab he had been trying to nap on earlier. Determined to make good on his earlier boast of being able to make her climax without removing a single item of clothing, he launched an insidious attack on her highly aroused body.

“Damn good thing I don’t have a soul to lose, ‘cause if you were mine,” His raspy voice so close to her ear sent chills racing over every inch of her skin. “There’s no way I’d be able to keep my mouth, or my hands, or my dick away from you.”

A ragged moan was forced from her as his hands slid up to cover her breasts, shaping and massaging them before his talented fingers found the aching nubs. Every firm pinch and roll seemed to tug at her womb, intensifying the ache between her legs. She tried to arch up into him, tried to force him to thrust harder against her, but their current position hindered her movements.

Sensing her frustration, Spike pulled back and boosted her up to sit on the monument. “Scoot up and lie back,” he instructed, his voice rougher than normal.

She obeyed him without demur, eyes wide as she watched him climb up until his body covered hers. In spite of her nervousness, she willingly allowed her legs to fall apart when he nudged his way between them. His weight against her felt so different from Angel’s bulk, and instead of staring at a chest, her eyes were more or less level with the blue of Spike’s as he stared down at her.

Bracing himself on his forearms, he watched as she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. Tiny dots of blood marred the glistening pink flesh and he zeroed in on it, nostrils flaring as they caught the rich scent of her blood. Leaning down, he swiped at the abused lip with his tongue.

“Relax, Slayer,” he murmured. “No one has to know we’re doing this. Just let yourself feel.”

“I’m trying to, but I… Ohhhhh!”

The first push of his pelvis against hers caused the entire turgid length of him to glide right across her swollen clit. Even through the layers of their clothing, the sparks zinged outwards from the highly sensitized pearl of nerve endings.

Desperate for something to hold onto to keep herself from flying to pieces, Buffy’s hands flew up to grip his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin and drawing blood.

“Mmm,” Spike purred at the slight sting. “Like that, luv?” With slow deliberation he moved again, close to bursting himself from the moist heat that was penetrating the heavy denim that imprisoned his cock. He wanted nothing more than to rip the restraining garments from both of them and shag her cross-eyed and drooling, but his innate sense that there could be something more if he held back kept him from acting on his impulses.

The intensity of the sensations he was arousing in her robbed her of coherent speech. All she could do was nod helplessly and gasp each time he rocked against her at that maddeningly slow pace. She lifted her hips demandingly, trying to quicken his movements.

Laughing softly, Spike grabbed her chin and kissed her, nipping at her bottom lip and sliding his tongue inside to dance with hers.

She moaned into his mouth, her hands slipping up to wrap around his neck, fingers twisting into surprisingly soft white-gold hair. God, it felt so good. HE felt so good. Lifting her trembling legs, she wrapped them around his hips and met him thrust for thrust. Instinct told her that mind-blowing release was just beyond her reach and she needed him to show her the way.

“Oh, yeah. Just like that. Feels so good… God, Buffy! That's it baby, let Spike make you feel good.  Let me show you how good this is.”

It was his voice that did it. That husky scratchy accent that tickled its way through her insides till it burned hot in her belly and sent her screaming his name to the moonlit skies. She shuddered and twisted beneath him, fingers raking over the bunched muscles of his back and down to his ass, clutching at him in a mindless plea for more.

Spike nearly bit through the inside of his cheek to distract himself from spilling his load in his pants as he let her ride it out. As badly as his body was screaming for release, when she finally stilled, he rolled off to her side with a harsh groan.

“You didn’t…” Buffy only managed to get that much out as she tried to calm her breathing down to a normal level. She had never come so hard in her life, not by her own hand and certainly not her first and only time with Angel. The thought unsettled her, so she pushed it away to ponder when she was alone.

“Yeah. Well, you can owe me,” he rumbled, resting a forearm over his eyes as he willed his body to relax. “And you can bet your sweet ass I plan on collecting, Slayer.”

Threat or promise? Buffy couldn’t help the anticipatory chill that prickled over her damp skin at his words. What had started out as a bid to make Angel jealous had suddenly become something very different; something amazing and exhilarating, yet frightening at the same time.

Her body was still trembling, but she pulled herself up to sit on the edge. She ran her shaking hands through her hair and blew out a gusty sigh.

Spike watched with speculative eyes as she pulled herself together and slid down to the ground. He could sense her inner turmoil but refused to do or say anything to alleviate her distress. Girl had to make up her own mind and that was that.

Buffy turned to him, wide hazel eyes full of confusion as they met his. “I-I need to go,” she said, hating the little wobble in her voice. “Meet me at the school tomorrow night around eight, okay?”

There was a momentary flash of what looked like pain in the blue depths of his eyes and she correctly assumed the reason. “I know there’s supposed to be the whole limo and picking your date up at the door and stuff like that, but I kinda have some Hellhounds to take care of first or there won’t be a Prom.”

He rolled off the slab and stood in front of her, trying to mask his concern with a cocky grin. “Need a little help with that, Slayer? Wouldn’t mind tearin’ it up with a few devil dogs.”

She smiled at his enthusiasm. “No, you need to find a Tux, remember?”

“Oh, right.” Spike sighed in resignation and made the move he knew she wouldn’t make. Snagging an arm around her waist, he hauled her up against him and kissed her with passionate intensity. “A little something to tide me over,” he said with a smirk as he lifted his head.

Buffy rolled her eyes and tried to stop grinning like an idiot. “Goodnight, Spike,” she called over her shoulder as she walked away.

If she had turned for one last look, she would have been astounded by the soft expression on the blond vampires face as he watched her leave.

Part Four

The bad thing about Hellhounds was the fact that it took forever to wash the stink of them off of you.

Buffy made use of the locker room showers, scrubbing herself from head to toe in an effort to rid herself of their stench. Drying and dressing with lightning speed, she returned to the hallway and frowned at the seemingly vast and Spike-less emptiness.

“So help me, God, if he stands me up I’ll rip his head off and dance merrily in his dust,” she muttered as she paced angrily to and fro. “Stupid vampire…”

“Best be careful, luv. Your face will stick that way and it really doesn’t do that lovely gown justice.”
She whirled to face him, opening her mouth to deliver a stinging sermon on the virtues of being on time. The words never came. Her eyes flew open wide and her hands came up to cover her gaping mouth.

“S-Spike?” she breathed. “Oh…Wow…”

And he was. Very wow. Wow-worthy, in fact. Worthy of much of the wowness that was Spike in a tux.

Buffy stared, her eyes moving from the top of his artfully disarranged hair down to the shiny dress shoes that had replaced his treasured Docs, drooling helplessly over everything in between.

He didn’t bother to hide his amusement at her reaction. It was similar to his own when he had first glimpsed the perfection that was the Slayer in strapless lavender satin. He was glad now that he had stayed back in a shadowy doorway while she fumed over his tardiness. At least he had saved himself from looking a total prat by gawping at her like a pimple-faced youth.

She finally recovered her voice, wanting to tell him how truly yummy he looked but saying instead, “you’re late.”

“Sorry, luv. Had a devil of a time at the florist.”

“F-florist?” she stammered.

Spike stepped forward and opened up the small plastic box he held. Pulling out the wrist corsage fashioned of tiny pink sweetheart roses, he took her hand and slipped it around her arm. His blue eyes were wary as he glanced up to gauge her reaction.

Buffy was blinking back tears. He’d brought her flowers. Okay, so he’d probably stolen them, but still…Flowers. From Spike. It was such a sweetly unexpected gesture coming from one of the most viciously evil vampires in existence. That he would do such a thing for her—his sworn enemy—only added to her feelings of confusion.

Suddenly she realized how petty and childish her desire to incite jealousy in Angel was. She had been swimming in denial over their supposed relationship for so long now that it had become second nature to her, unaware that the only person that she was hurting was herself. Angel certainly didn’t care, or he would never think of leaving her for a life she could never have. Normal wasn’t issued with the Slayer package, but apparently a hefty attraction for vampires was. And her attraction to Spike had been cast into a whole new light in the past twenty-four hours. For once, Faith was right. Want. Take. Have. Such was a Slayer’s lot in life, because you never knew when you would bite the big one.

Tonight’s charade had started out being all about Angel, but if she had her way, it would finish with being all about Spike. It would be interesting to find out who the real Spike was. Well, that and getting some of that hot, sexual goodness he had promised in the cemetery. She would be lying to herself if she claimed not to want some more of that!

Gracing him with a brilliant smile, Buffy tucked her arm through his and squeezed. “Thank you, Spike. They’re so beautiful,” she admitted as she admired the delicate blooms adorning her wrist.

His smile matched hers for radiance and he covered the small hand resting on his arm with his. “Shall we?” he asked while leading her towards the doors. At her slight nod, he threw open the doors with a flourish and led her inside.

To say that her friends and both Watchers were stunned by the reality that was her date would have been a gross understatement. Gaping mouths and bugged-out eyes didn’t really go well with formal attire.

The mass onslaught of Scoobies bent on intervention was stopped by an imperious hand and a look that was pure Slayer.

“Not a freakin’ word. Angel is leaving, I got rid of the damage bound hounds, and in a few days time I’ll hopefully stop the Mayor from dragging the world kicking and screaming into Hell. I’ve done everything that’s been asked of me and it’s my turn to enjoy some Prom-y goodness. Now, if you’ll all excuse us, my date and I would like to dance.”

She had never released her hold on Spike’s arm and with a determined tug she led him towards the dance floor, ignoring the annoying smirk he tossed over his shoulder at her dumbfounded friends.

When they found a clear spot on the dance floor, Buffy turned and slipped easily into his arms, twining her own around his neck. She tilted her head back until her defiant hazel eyes met his.

“No spiking the punch and no snacking on the partygoer’s. You got me?”

Spike pretended to consider her warning’s and received a vicious pinch on his earlobe for his trouble. “Ow!” he yelped. “I bloody well got you, Slayer. We’ll dance every dance and schmooze with your pals. When the poofy haired pumpkin arrives at midnight, you can spit on his groveling arse. Then the two of you can suck face and make up before bouncing off into the moonlight. Everyone’s happy, yeah?” Except me, he thought bitterly to himself.

“I won’t be leaving with Angel.”

Let him make of that what he would, Buffy thought as she snuggled her cheek against his shoulder. The hands at her waist tightened almost painfully before he relaxed and rested his chin atop her silky hair.

In spite of the glaring disapproval on the faces around them, they found themselves honestly enjoying each others company. Of course he wasn’t the perfect gentleman. More than once she had to slap his wandering hands away from vulnerable areas, and once when Xander and his strangely behaved date were dancing nearby, Spike made sure the couple saw him tracing the shell of the Slayer’s ear with his pointed tongue. He got a kick out of seeing the impotent rage on the whelp’s face, not to mention his date’s thundering heartbeat as she melted further into his embrace.

Taking in the silly décor, the watered down punch, and the hormonal teens gyrating against each other, Spike wondered why he wasn’t bored to the point of thinning out the herd just for a spot of entertainment. The answer had slipped her arms around his waist and tucking her fingers beneath the waistband of his trousers, tickling just above the curve of his arse. Since he had discarded his jacket earlier, her actions could plainly be seen by her Watcher and his tweedy sidekick. Giles looked like he’d swallowed a frog.

Two could play that game, he thought with a grin. Resting both hands on her spine, he spread his fingers out over the curves of her delectable bottom, searching out the seams of whatever undergarments she might be wearing.

She didn’t even bother to lift her head from its resting place on his chest, so her threat lacked any sort of conviction to back it up. “Spike, I know what you’re doing, now get your hands off my ass.”

“But, Slayer,” he whined. When she looked up at him he let his bottom lip push out in a pout that even he knew was sexy. “’M just tryin’ to gauge your mood, luv. See exactly how tasty you’re gonna be for my after party refreshment.”

Resisting the urge to bite that oh-so-sexy lip, Buffy arched a disbelieving brow. “My mood isn’t on my ass, Spike. You were checking out my goodies.”

Spike caved. He was fast learning that keeping even the most insignificant details from her was becoming impossible when she leveled him with that look, a fact that was making him increasingly uncomfortable. “Oh, alright!” he said with a pained sigh. “A vamp can’t get a break with you, you know that, Slayer?”

“Now would that be any fun?” Buffy chided with mock seriousness. She had to smile as he threw back his head and laughed, bringing further censorious glares from her friends.

The night passed around them, obligatory traditions glossed over as they extended their acquaintance with deep longing looks and tuneless swaying to music only they could hear. They were so lost in each other that Willow had to call Buffy’s name twice to get her attention.

“Jonathan is talking about you,” the redhead hissed.

“Huh? Why?”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Try listening, pet,” he snarked. All he wanted to do was get this nonsense over with and have that little confrontation with Peaches so he and Buffy could move on to the important stuff.

Jonathan went through his little spiel and Buffy reluctantly left Spike’s side to accept the sparkly little umbrella.

She might have known it was all too good to be true. She was on her way back to Spike when Giles confronted her.

“Buffy, have you gone completely insane? Exactly what are you doing with Spike? I believe I have been more than patient, but now I want some answers!” he sputtered.

“Answers to what, Giles? I needed a date, Spike generously offered to be that date.” She had to bite the inside of her cheek over that little white lie. Spike would bust a gut laughing if he heard her.

“Spike? Generous?”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah, well, he found me crying in the cemetery after that ugly break-up with Angel. Seems he has a soft spot for tears and took pity on me. He’s not gonna eat anyone, if that’s what has you worried. He promised me.”

Giles gobbled incoherently before he managed to spit out, “And you believe him?”

Buffy blessed him with her most scornful look. “Duh, Giles. If he even attempts it, he’s dust, and he knows that.”

“Who knows what?”

Angel had approached without either of them sensing his presence. Buffy barely spared a glance at him over her shoulder before turning back to Giles.

“This conversation is finished. I told you I’m not dealing with any of this tonight, and I meant it. Now, please go.”

Clearly enraged by her attitude, the Watcher spun away and rejoined Wesley by the punch bowl where they muttered at each other while casting dark looks in her direction.

With a resigned sigh and a quick prayer for patience, she turned to confront Angel. “I never thought you’d come,” she said in a voice completely void of emotion.

Angel squirmed inside his hastily rented Tux and gave her what he hoped was a tender look. “It’s a big night. I didn’t want to miss it. It’s just tonight. It doesn’t mean that I…”

“So this is where you got off to, luv.”

His arms circled her from behind and he dropped a light kiss on her bare shoulder. Buffy sagged against him in relief. Her emotions had been in such a turmoil of anger and hurt over Angel’s little speech that she had been ready to scream at him in frustration, but Spike’s touch brought everything back into perspective for her.

Feeling her press closer to him told Spike everything he needed to know. She really wasn’t going to cave in to the kicked-puppy routine that Angelus had perfected over the centuries. She was going to leave here with him instead of the poof. He tightened his arms around her waist and gave Angel his most irritating smirk.

“’Lo Peaches. Nice Tux.”

“Spike?” The massive forehead furrowed in confusion as his eyes darted between Buffy and his grinning idiot of a grandchilde. “What the hell are you doing here?” he exploded.

Buffy raised her eyebrows at his vehement tone. “Don’t make a scene, Angel. I think it’s pretty clear what he’s doing here. Spike is my date.”

“Don’t make a scene? I went to all this effort to come here for you, only to find out you’re here with Spike. What’s wrong with this picture, Buffy?” He shook his head in disbelief. “You’d dump me for an 80’s rock star wannabe?”

“Oi! If I heard correctly, wasn’t her that did the dumping, was it now, wanker?”

Feeling the coiled tenseness of his body against hers, Buffy rested a calming hand on one of the arms that banded her waist. “Usually breaking it off with someone involves giving them the right to move on to someone else, Angel.”

“I broke it off with you so that you could have a normal life,” he insisted, his face turning an ugly shade of purple. “Spike is about as abnormal as you can get!”

“True, but apparently it’s what I need or I would never have been attracted to him from the first time I saw him,” Buffy admitted.

Spike hid his surprise at her revelation by giving her a squeeze and kissing her cheek. “Ain’t that the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard?” he taunted his grandsire. “I just want to eat her up when she says things like that.”

A fiery blush suffused her face at the mental imagery that his words evoked. Down, girl! she chided herself. It’s just an expression. Isn’t it? God, she hoped not! Spike had her so flustered that she stammered as bad as Willow on a caffeine rush.

“S-Spike was n-nice enough to c-comfort me w-when I was crying over you b-breaking up with me, a-and he looks really hot in a Tux and h-he…” she paused trying to get her babbling tongue under control and wondering how far she should push it. Deciding to go for it, she finished with, “he fulfils me.”

The expression on Angel’s face was truly priceless. It was just too good of an opportunity to pass up as far as Spike was concerned.

“Yeah,” he confirmed as he rubbed his ‘fulfilling’ appendage against her tight little ass. "I fill the girl all the way up. Feels pretty damn good, too. You should try it sometime.” He paused to glance deliberately below Angel’s cummerbund. “Oops, forgot. You can't. Bloody eunuch."

Buffy did nothing to refute what Spike said or even divert his pelvic action as she smiled dreamily without acknowledging the impotent rage on the once beloved face of her ex. “Can we leave now, Spike? I’ve had all the prom-y goodness I can stand.”

Nuzzling her ear, he gave it an appreciative lick. “Whatever my kitten wishes,” he whispered.

Seeming to suddenly remember his presence, Buffy looked at Angel and gave him a bitter smile. “Have a nice evening, Angel. Goodnight.”

Spike didn’t even spare him a glance. He was too intent on getting the Slayer out of here and away from the interfering influences of her chums and the poof. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her unresisting form after him. Detouring to their table, he snatched up her little consolation prize and handed it to her as they swept out the doors.

Part Five 

There were very few times in her life when Buffy found herself stunned speechless. This was one of those times. She stared, eyes wide and mouth agape.

It was long and white and glistened like marble in the moonlight. Buffy reached out with one trembling hand and ran her fingers over it.

“This is for me?” she asked with barely suppressed excitement.

“’Course it is. Only the best for you, Slayer,” Spike said with a grin. “Well, what are you waiting for?  Go on. You know you want to.”

Buffy flashed him a smile and slipped past the impassive driver holding open the door of the white stretch limousine. Her squeals of excitement floated from inside.

“Oh my God! Champagne! Spike, can we have some or do we have to pay for it?”

Spike rolled his eyes at the driver, who was fighting back a smile. “First time in a limo. Can’t imagine what she’s gonna do when she sees the hotel room.”

“You’re a lucky man, sir,” the driver quipped. “Straight to the hotel or shall I drive around for a bit?”

Spike slipped the man another fifty. “Take the scenic route, mate,” he said with a wink as he climbed inside.

Buffy was practically bouncing on the leather seat. In the time he had known her, Spike realized he had never seen her quite so ebullient. Granted, she’d been going through the torment of having her first love lose his soul and go damage bound on her nearest and dearest, and barring their truce to take Angelus down, he’d been determined to bag her as his third Slayer, but this time the incandescent smile and sparkling eyes were for him instead of that wretched little mob of hangers-on that she called friends.

She had the bottle of champagne in one hand while she played with the sunroof controls with the other. “Look, Spike! Isn’t this cool?”

“Very. Hand over that bottle ‘fore you bash me with it, pet. You can have one glass and that’s it. Got me?”

Buffy wrinkled her nose at him charmingly. “Party pooper!”

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “The ‘party’ is exactly why you’re only getting’ one glass. Not gonna deal with a pukin’ Slayer or have you stake me in the mornin’ claiming I took advantage of you.”

A becoming blush stained her cheeks and she lifted her chin defiantly. “Just pour me some champagne, fang-face, and no one gets hurt.”

“Mmm, bossy. You’re turning me on, Slayer.” Spike deftly opened the champagne and poured them both a glass.

Once she had her glass in hand, Buffy eagerly downed half of it. She promptly sneezed. “Whoa! Bubbles,” she giggled.

Spike busied himself with removing his cummerbund and tie, watching with an indulgent smile as she stood up and stuck her upper body through the opened sunroof. “Spike? What was the driver saying about a hotel?” she called down to him.

Tucking his shirt studs and cuff links into his pocket, he got up to join her. He didn’t give her time to even blink before he covered her lips with his in a scorching kiss. “Got us a room at a posh hotel for the night,” he murmured, lifting his head slightly to admire the bottomless hazel pools of her eyes.

“Oh, wow…” she breathed, completely amazed by his generosity. The slightest bit of suspicion narrowed her eyes. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

The wind whipped her hair around her face and she wrapped it around her hand to keep it from slapping in her face. Spike found her enchantingly beautiful and couldn’t help but steal another lusty kiss.

“Because you’re letting me,” he told her with a shrug. “Couldn’t take you back to that dump I’m staying in. ’Sides, all of this is part of the after prom package, innit?”

Still a little bemused from that last kiss, she could only nod. The nod turned to a frown of confusion when he handed her his glass of champagne.

“Hold this for a tic, will you, luv? Got somethin’ that needs doin’ down below,” he said with a perfectly straight face.

Buffy took his glass and drained her own while he dropped back down through the roof. She hoped he hurried with whatever he was doing down there. The night was to spectacularly beautiful to enjoy by herself. He…

“OH. MY. GOD,” she choked out.

The stems of both crystal flutes snapped off in her hands when she felt two palms skim up the outsides of her thighs, bunching her lavender skirts around her waist. Cool fingers flirted with the tops of her sheer stockings and up the straps of the miniscule garter belt she wore with them.

Her breath strangled in her throat when she felt his breath tickle across the neatly trimmed triangle of curls revealed by her lack of underwear.

“Mmm. No knickers. Naughty kitty, aren’t you?” he commented almost casually. “Ahh, this is nice. Next to nothing, but very, very nice.” His tongue traced the edge of her garter belt. “This can stay on for now. Like the way it frames that succulent little pussy for me. And these stockings… Gotta love a girl that knows Victoria’s Secret.”

The remains of the champagne flutes bounced off the roof of the car and disappeared into the night as she slapped her palms down on the slick metal, struggling for something to hold on to as his hands gripped her bare bottom and he buried his face in her suddenly drenched quim.

A very unladylike “Oh, FUCK!” was torn from her as his agile tongue parted her folds and swept her from bottom to top before dancing tauntingly around the hard little button of her clit. Buffy flung back her head with a guttural moan, unable to stop herself from thrusting her hips against his talented mouth and tongue.

Spike was as near to heaven as he had ever been, the lemony tang of her juices like the sweetest of nectars flowing over his tongue. The brief thought that he should be gentle with her was quickly discarded. He probably only had this one shot with her and he planned on making it a night she would never forget. This decided, he doubled his efforts, licking and sucking and biting at her pussy like a man possessed.

Buffy’s first orgasm ripped through her while he was sucking voraciously on her clit. The second climax occurred when he slid two fingers inside her, quickly finding and massaging some previously unknown spot on the front of her sopping channel that wrung a scream of pure, unadulterated bliss from her throat. By the time the stars witnessed her third, she was a limp and quivering mess, her upper body draped over the cool metal of the limousines roof.

Practically purring with satisfaction, Spike gripped her tiny waist and dragged her down into the car, settling her legs on either side of his hips so that she straddled him where he sat on the floor. She was a gorgeous mess, hair made wild by the wind, satin skirts tangled around her waist, her eyes closed and mouth slack as she panted against his neck. He grinned against the velvet skin of her shoulder as he laid down a series of wet, open-mouthed kisses, stopping when he reached the thrumming line of her jugular.

"That was... You...God..." she breathed incoherently, fighting to calm her rushing heartbeat.

"That," he told her, combing his fingers through her tangled hair. "Was merely a taste of what's to come for you."

She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. “Oh God.” Was it possible to die from too much pleasure? She wondered. She’d always sensed the latent sensuality that clung to Spike much like the conforming leather of his prized coat, but she was stunned by the force of having it unleashed on her nearly inexperienced body. She turned her head, blindly seeking his lips with her own, clinging to him like a lifeline.

The kiss changed from soft to demanding in seconds. Buffy shuddered against him, uncaring of the fact that she was allowing a master vampire to dominate her so completely. When he nipped at the tender flesh of her throat with blunt teeth her Slayer senses should have gone crazy, but she felt no fear whatsoever. Her instincts told her that he wasn’t going to take advantage of her vulnerability or hurt her in any way.

Feeling emboldened by this knowledge, she arched into the hands that gently squeezed her ribcage before sliding around her back. His fingers unerringly found the zip of her dress and dragged it down. He peeled the lavender satin from her breasts, midnight blue eyes reverent as he stared at the perfection that was revealed to him.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in a long time, luv,” he murmured as he began using one finger to rub back and forth over one pretty pink nipple.

Buffy shivered as her skin tightened and tingled deliciously. It was no wonder that he had an ego the size of Texas, she thought dazedly, if he could cause such havoc to her senses with just the tip of one finger.

“Like that, baby?” He smiled as she nodded eagerly. “Let’s see how you taste.”

A soft, breathy gasp escaped her as he dipped his head, his seeking tongue finding the taut little bud and circling with excruciating slowness before latching on and sucking, first softly then a bit harder.

It amazed her that someone so strong could be capable of such a delicate touch. Her eyes drifted shut as she raked her fingers through his hair and pulled him closer. He moved from one side to the other, the tugging of his mouth at her breasts causing an answering pull from deep in her womb.

With a tiny growl of frustration, Buffy shoved the white silk shirt down his arms, running her hands greedily over cool skin that felt smooth as marble under her palms. Coming to rest on his shoulders, she dug her nails in the slightest bit and pushed him down onto his back.

Releasing her breast from his mouth with and audible ‘pop’, Spike watched as she attacked the fastenings of his dress pants and shoved them down. “What are you…? Oh, Christ…” His eyes crossed and his head fell back as one hand closed around him and the other slid down to cup his balls. “Buffy…”

“My turn to taste,” she purred, batting his desperately grasping hands from her breasts. “Just lay back and relax.”

“How the hell am I supposed to relax when…? Ungghh!”

His hoarse shout as she slid her mouth over the tip of his cock was music to her ears. Buffy smiled at his reaction.

Spike was pretty sure this was another first for her, but what she lacked in technique she more than made up for in enthusiasm. Long, slow licks up and down his shaft and delicate flutters across the head before shaping her pretty pink lips around him and sliding him in and out. She took more of him in with each pass until he felt himself nudging the back of her throat. Spike was certain the top of his head was going to blow off when she gave a throaty moan and then swallowed around him.

He groaned when she stopped suddenly and lifted her head. Her hands never left him, stroking firmly up and down as she stared up at him contemplatively. The look in her eyes made his toes curl.

“There’s something I want to try, if it’s okay with you, I mean,” she said hesitantly. “I saw it in this soft porn movie once and it kinda… It umm…”

“Turned you on?” he suggested, unable to stop himself from sitting up and dragging her to him for another kiss. When she pulled back her fiery blush gave him his answer. He smiled at her discomfiture, brushing her hair back over her shoulders.

“Cutie, there’s nothing you need to be afraid of trying with me. Now, tell me what you want me to do.”

Urging him up on the seat and arranging him to her satisfaction, she stepped back and stripped off her dress, leaving her in nothing but the miniscule garter belt and her stockings and heels. When she knelt down in front of him in a submissive pose, he had to grab his dick and squeeze the base hard to keep from shooting his load in her face.

The sight of him, shirt hanging from his arms in disarray and sprawled against the black leather seat while he fondled himself brought a fresh rush of dampness between her legs. Trying not to be obvious about it, Buffy squirmed and tried to rub her thighs together for a little relief.

Bending over him, she took him in her mouth once more, getting him good and wet before she pulled back and placed his cock between her breasts, squeezing the plump mounds together around him. When she had him where she wanted him, she began to suck and nibble at the length that thrust up from her soft, imprisoning flesh.

“OH YEAH BABY!” His voice was a harsh growl as he began to thrust back and forth, the combined sensations of her hot skin and the even hotter wetness of her mouth taking up the slack soon reduced him to babbling a mindless litany of praise.

The constant flow of rough words and dirty phrases that poured from his mouth only made her wetter. The thigh rubbing wasn’t getting it done anymore. Moving carefully, Buffy lifted one leg over until she straddled his and began grinding her pussy against his shin.

Spike felt his balls tighten. Knowing his release was imminent, he tried to nudge her head back. “Buffy… Luv… Gonna cum, baby.”

She shrugged him off. “So cum,” she dared him, the look in her eyes pure sin as she held his gaze.

And with a roar he did, feeling like she was sucking his spine out through his dick. Some of it she managed to swallow, but the majority of it landed in pearly splashes on her chest and breasts.

Releasing him, Buffy gripped his knees and began to ride his leg in earnest, soft whimpers of frustration bursting from her lips.

When the fireworks cleared from his vision, Spike looked down at her, the hot little noises she was making causing his cock to swell once more.

“Oh, my poor little kitten,” he murmured, stroking her sweat-dampened hair. “You’re in a bad way, aren’t you, luv?”

Sliding down to kneel on the floor beside her, Spike lifted her until her bottom rested on his thighs. Turning until her back rested against the seat, his fingers sought and began to rub her tingling clit. She squirmed and thrashed on his lap.

“God, Spike, PLEASE!” she begged.

His free hand steadied her while he nudged at her opening. His harsh breathing mirrored hers as he gripped her hair and dragged her up for a bruising kiss.

“Gonna let me in, sweet Slayer?” he growled against her panting mouth. “Let me in, baby. Gonna make you feel sooo good.”

Her answering nod was jerky with desperation. “YES! Oh Spike pleasepleaseplease,” she babbled.

Pushing her upper body back onto the seat, he lifted himself to his knees and impaled her with one long, smooth stroke.

Buffy’s scream of delight was deafening, and Spike was sure the driver heard it because the limo swerved sharply to the right before he got it back under control. Hope you’re enjoyin’ yourself, mate. I know I am! He thought with a grin.

Setting a slow and steady pace, he began to move in and out of her. “Buffy. Luv?” Making sure he had her attention, he instructed her to lean up on her elbows and look down between them. “Look at us, luv. Beautiful, innit? Could fuck that pretty l’il quim day and night and still scream for more.”

Staring down at his thick cock glistening with her juices as he thrust into her was the most intensely arousing thing she had ever witnessed. Buffy tore her eyes away from the erotic sight and lifted them to meet the stormy blue of Spike’s.

“You know you’re mine now, right?” he demanded. His hands swept up the length of her arched torso, over her ribs and the diamond hard tips of her breasts where they lingered for a few heart stopping moments before continuing on over her chest to caress the elegant lines of her neck. The fact that she didn’t even flinch at having the preternaturally strong hands of a master vampire around her throat told him all he needed to know.

“Things can’t ever go back to the way they have been,” he continued, running his fingers across her moist lips, grinning when she caught his wrist and began to suck and nibble at his questing digits. His free hand returned to her breasts, tracing the bounty of pale gold flesh before rolling and pinching each nipple in turn.

"Tell me how it's going to change, Spike?  Make me believe it's possible," Buffy ground out through clenched teeth. She threw her head back, grunting with pleasure as he filled her over and over again, never relenting in his determined assault on her misgivings.

Slipping his hands under her arms and cupping her shoulders to pull her up until they were nose to nose, never ceasing the churning motion of his hips against her. Maybe fucking her senseless while trying to have a serious discussion was a little bit underhanded, but he refused to feel guilty. All was fair in love and...

That thought stopped him cold. Don’t go there, mate, he told himself firmly. Start spouting that drivel and she’ll bolt so fast your head will spin for a week.

“Biggest change, luv; I’m stayin’. Not goin’ anywhere. And just so we’re crystal clear, this vamp doesn’t share, so no more moonin’ about after the Poof. I catch him sniffin’ around what’s mine, I’ll stake him myself.” He emphasized his point with a forceful jab of his own very well molded stake. “Got me?”

Buffy nodded erratically, her loosened hair falling over her face as she bounced energetically on his lap. “Gotcha. No Angel. Dealt with. Moving on in a big…Ungh, God! BIG way.” Digging her fingers into his hair, she smashed his lips with hers, sucking and biting at them with unfettered passion.

Eyes flashing yellow at her aggressive actions, Spike wound his arms around her. “No more talk about doin’ each other in, either. Couldn’t hurt you now for the world.” His words were muffled beneath the onslaught of her insistent mouth.

She froze, lifting her head from the luscious feast of his lips to reveal eyes that were filled with horror at the thought of driving a stake thru his chest. Her hands flew up to frame his face, fingers anxiously caressing those incredible cheekbones.

“Never,” she breathed. Diving for his throat, she sucked ravenously, leaving tiny purple bruises in her wake as she moved inexorably towards the scar that marked his turning. When she reached it she traced it daintily with the tip of her tongue.

He lunged upwards with a rapturous moan as she laved her hot tongue over his cool skin. “Playin’ with fire there, pet.”

“Stop me, then,” she purred, knowing he wouldn’t even try.

Growling, he increased both his pace and the power of his thrusts, one hand tangling in the silk of her hair and the other digging into the small of her back as he guided her movements.

Buffy could feel everything inside her spiraling out of control, her muscles clenching around him in anticipation of the orgasm that was building to a crescendo with each stroke of that divinely thick cock.

“S-Spike!” she cried out. “I need… Need to…”

“Know what you need, baby. Need to cum, yeah?” He slipped a hand down and found her clit, starting slow and rubbing steadily faster, watching with adoring eyes as she began to come apart in his arms.

Buffy threw her head back, baring her throat to him in mute supplication.

Loosing his demon, Spike quickly moved to settle over the faded scar left on her golden skin by the Master. One good hard suck brought her blood close to the surface and he triumphantly sank his fangs home, completely eradicating the old bastard’s marks.

She screamed as the sting of his sharp teeth sent her crashing over the edge into orgasmic bliss. Bright lights flickered behind her closed eyes and her entire body trembled. A sudden mindless need swept over her and she buried her face in his neck, finding Dru’s mark and sinking her teeth in almost viciously.

Each draught of the intoxicating elixir of her blood brought him that much closer to cumming, but it was her teeth tearing into his neck that brought a release so intense that he nearly blacked out. Forcing her writhing body down hard on his cock, he felt his load shoot deep inside her.

They wilted down to the floor; mouths still fastened at each others throats. When he was finally able to summon the strength to lift his head and lick the wounds closed, Buffy wearily did the same.

Spike kissed her swollen mouth lingeringly, tasting his blood on her lips and tongue. Pulling away slightly, his eyes met hers and he whispered softly, “Mine.”

With a ragged sigh, Buffy rested her damp forehead against his and completed the ritual. “Yours,” she breathed.

Part Three

By the time the limousine stopped on the forecourt of the Sunnydale Regency, the two of them were neatly dressed in their prom finery once more.

When the driver opened the door, Spike got out first and reached for the hand that Buffy gracefully extended to help her alight. It was all he could do to keep from bursting out with laughter over the expression on the driver’s face. The poor man was a violent shade of magenta and sweat still rolled down his pudgy face. He struggled to keep his face expressionless when confronted with the vampire’s obvious mirth.

“Thanks for the ride, mate.” Spike couldn’t resist ribbing him.

The driver nodded stoically. “No thanks necessary, sir. The pleasure was all mine.”

Buffy waited patiently, rolling her eyes as she watched the display of testosterone. She had to smile when Spike left off teasing the driver and took her arm to lead her inside. He was practically bouncing with suppressed energy. He was in such a good mood that even the long wait to get to their room didn’t faze him. Card finally in hand, they headed towards the elevators.

“What’s gotten into you, mister? Not that I mind seeing this side of you; I’m just curious,” she said, curling her body around his in the crowded elevator.

“Several things, luv.” He turned until he faced her in the small space, elbowing the other couples out of the way and backing her up against the wall, bracing his hands above her head. “And if we were alone in this elevator I’d show you,” he said quietly, his intentions clear in his eyes and in the subtle nudge he gave her with the lower part of his body.

A soft moan escaped her as he covered her mouth with his in a kiss that was so carnal that every other occupant of the elevator felt the rise in temperature. By the time they reached their floor and he lifted his head, she was ready to slide down the wall and drag him with her. Barely managing to restrain themselves, they left the elevator and its dazed occupants to find their suite.

Buffy barely cleared the threshold before she found herself pushed up against the closed door by one extremely horny vamp. Spike wasted no time, desperate to be inside her exquisite heat once again. Stripping her dress from her and dropping his pants, he grabbed her thighs and lifted her legs to wrap around his hips as he drove into her.

She cried out, her hands ripping urgently at his shirt to get to his cool skin. Shoving the offending garment from his shoulders, she raked her nails down his back until they sank into his churning backside.

The sting of her nails brought a rumbling growl of encouragement from her lover and when he lifted his head from her shoulder she was confronted by ridges and fangs, the glowing yellow eyes of his demon blazing back at her. She met them without flinching, sensing that he had pulled his demon forth deliberately, intent on showing her both sides of the creature she was now mated to for life.

With trembling fingers, Buffy slowly traced over each bump and ridge, down the broad nose before sweeping out over one sharp cheekbone. Cupping his jaw, she pressed her face to his and rubbed it against his ridges like a needy kitten.

The first touch of her fingers caused him to go completely still within her. While he had been trying to prove a point, he’d never expected her to reciprocate so fully. He was awed by the amount of trust in him that she was showing, and that sweet little stunt she pulled—nuzzling her face against him so yearningly—nearly brought him to his knees.

A rasping groan slipped from him as he resumed his movements between her slim thighs at a slower, more sinuous pace than before. He felt her breath hitch at the sudden change in the tempo of his thrusts from hard and domineering to an ardent tenderness that was wholly unexpected. Pulling back, he shook away the demon, leaving him free to kiss her as fervently as he wished.

Buffy held his face, soft fingertips continuing to outline each pleasing feature that as a whole made up a devastatingly handsome man. She stared, enraptured by the shine of his eyes as he watched her with an expression of such worshipful awe that it brought the swift sting of tears to her own.

What did it all mean? How would it go when she brought him back to confront the reality of her friends? Should she tell them that she’d been so swept away by his skillful tongue that she’d allowed him to sink his fangs into her throat and whisper the words that would bind her to his side for eternity? That she’d aligned herself with an evil being having no clue if he would kill her or help her in her unending fight?

The confusion of thoughts was seriously impairing the mood for her and she forcibly pushed them aside, allowing the magic of his touch to take over once more and thrust her into submission. They would talk later. Much, much later, she thought as she surrendered herself to the delicious decadence that was lovemaking with her vampire.

Spike intuitively sensed her inner turmoil, but he was also aware of her willingness to wait for a more propitious moment. Taking a firm grip on the ripe curves of her bottom, he pivoted from the door and headed straight for the enticingly turned down bed. Tipping her onto the crisp, wine-colored sheets, he followed her down without missing a stroke.

Arching up to meet him with a breathy gasp, Buffy luxuriated in the feel on his cool, muscular weight pressing her down into the soft bedding. She wound her arms and legs around him, drawing him tighter against her and branding him with her heat. Threading her fingers through the thoroughly mussed curls at his nape, she tugged him down to crush her mouth to his in a lush, biting kiss that had him growling and slamming his length into her almost savagely.

He reared back, bracing himself above her by planting his hands on either side of her head. Baby wanted to play, but he knew rules to this particular game her innocent little mind had never dreamed of. He began to pump into her with lazy, deliberate strokes that soon had her writhing beneath him.

The soft, kittenish mewls that fell from her lips only added fuel to his ardor. Still holding himself over her, he used one hand to rub circles on her flat tummy, synchronizing his movements so that every time he thrust in, his hand pushed down on her pelvis. He knew that doing this would keep constant pressure on her g-spot, trapping it between his hand on the outside and his cock on the inside.

Buffy went wild, thrashing and crying out as she climaxed. It felt like lightning was flickering along every nerve ending, starting beneath his palm and arcing outward from that point. Her hands flew down to cover his, her nails cutting into him as she forced him to press down harder on her belly and rode it out.

Coasting back to sanity from the pinnacle of bliss he’d driven her to, Buffy had one single-minded purpose. To make him lose that iron control of his until he was a Spike-shaped puddle of goo on the bed. Meeting his gloating expression with one of sultry, sadistic intent, she dug her knees into his hips and flipped them neatly.

Spike found himself flat on his back with Buffy grinning above him, their bodies still intimately joined. For a moment she simply sat there staring down at him, impaled on his thick cock.

He was opening his mouth to ask if she was alright when he felt it. At first he thought it was residual tremors from her orgasm, but it gained in strength instead of subsiding. Her inner muscles rippled from the base of his dick to the tip, over and over, the undulating waves intensifying with each pass. Bearing down she circled her hips, slowly at first and then faster, never letting up with the internal muscular contractions.

“Holy FUCK!” His eyes crossed and he tilted his head back sharply, digging it into the bed as he bucked his hips and strained upwards.

She laughed breathlessly. “Like that?” she taunted as she rode him mercilessly. Her small hand splayed across the hard muscles of his stomach and she dug her nails in, leaving tiny red half-moons on his alabaster skin. The fingers of her other hand skipped up and over his flat abdomen and found the dusky buds of his flat nipples. She quickly found that he liked having his pinched and rolled as much as she did.

A constant low growl was vibrating through his chest and he kept shifting in and out of game face, midnight blue eyes flickering with threads of gold as he stared up at her.

Buffy was beyond ready to cum, surprised that she had lasted this long. Breathing raggedly, she ground her clit into the base of his cock. Once. Twice. And came hard, screaming his name as she clamped down on him like a vise on a steel bar.

Spike’s howl of orgasmic bliss drowned out her scream. His hands dug deeper bruises into her hips as he grabbed her and slammed her down hard, his cool spendings filling and overflowing her as those amazing muscles of hers wrung him dry.

Every part of her body screamed in protest as she dragged herself off of him and curled against his side, one arm flung limply over his stomach.

“Slayer?” His voice was rough and scratchy from all that growling.

She tried to lift her head but gave up after two attempts. A weak “Um hmm?” was all she could manage for now.

“I can’t feel my toes. Are they still there?”

“Dunno. Lift your leg so I can see.”

“Can’t feel those either. Nor my arms. I think you broke me, luv.”

“Your hands are fine. There’s one on my butt.”

He squeezed. “Oh right. Tha’s where the bugger ran off to, then.”

Buffy finally managed to lift her head enough to perch her chin on his chest. “Spike?”

“Luv?”

She hesitated, reluctant to spoil their afterglow with words that she knew could anger him. “We… ah… we need to talk about… stuff.”

An exaggerated and completely unnecessary sigh lifted his chest and pushed her chin up. “Right, then. This where you tell me in the nicest possible way to ‘fuck off’?”

Buffy pushed herself up and sat back on her haunches, not bothering to shield her nudity from him. When she spoke, she enunciated each word slowly and carefully. One tended to do that when they were conversing with a hard-headed idiot.

“No. This is the part where I ask you where we go from here, okay?” At his curt nod, she continued. “Now, I’m gonna ask you. Spike, where do we go from here?”

Spike rolled off the bed and scrubbed a hand over his thoroughly disheveled hair. “Don’t know really. All depends on you, I guess.” He searched out his fags and lit one, narrowing his eyes against the smoke as he stared at her.

Buffy met his gaze without flinching or making a move to cover herself. “So, in spite of this,” she motioned to the still raw-looking bite on her neck, “if I told you to leave, you would?”

“That I won’t do, pet.” In fact, just the thought of it had his demon all kinds of pissed off.

She didn’t miss the flash of amber over blue or the possessive tenor of his voice. A not-unpleasant tingle emanated from the bite marks and she knew he felt the same when he reached up and absently rubbed his fingers over where she had bitten him.

“I can’t let you kill, Spike.”

There. She had said it. Well, not so much said it as blurted it out, but it got the job done and threw out between them what she felt would be their biggest issue.

“I wanted you to claim me. Hell, I all but begged for it. But I can’t let you hunt and kill innocents.” Her voice trembled and she bit down firmly on her bottom lip.

“Now that you mention it, why did you let me? I know my reasons for doing it, but I’d like to hear yours,” he pressed. He expected her to shy away from his question, to become flustered and defensive in typical Buffy fashion, but she surprised him yet again.

“I’m tired of being alone,” she said simply.

He snorted his disbelief. “Slayer, when are you ever alone? You’ve always got one of those annoying little mate’s of yours taggin’ along, and let’s not forget Mr. Broodypants always skulkin’ ‘round in the shadows.”

“Even when I’m surrounded by my friends, I always feel alone. I felt the same when I was with Angel. Don’t get me wrong, they’re important, but in the end there’s just me.” She knelt there in the tumbled burgundy sheets, her hazel eyes never leaving him. “I know it’s crazy, with the whole mortal enemy thing we’ve had going on, but these last few nights with you, I didn’t feel alone. I felt…safe. It feels good- feels right- and I don’t want to lose it.”

Against his will, her words warmed his cold heart. The fact that she was saying them at all amazed him. He stubbed out his smoke and crossed to the bed to stand before her, arms akimbo and eyes glacially cool and expression indifferent.

“So you expect me to turn my back on everything I am? Be the Slayer’s pussy-whipped lap dog? Sounds a little one sided to me, pet. What’s in it for me, aside from the mind-blowing sex?”

A tiny smile quirked her lips. He really was adorable when he got all defensive and crude. Too bad for him that she had already figured out that the ‘Big Bad’ was really the ‘Big Softie’. At least where his women were concerned.

Buffy crawled to the edge of the bed and rose up on her knees in front of him. Her hand closed around his semi-engorged cock and used it as a leash to reel him in closer. Sliding her free hand around the back of his neck, she toyed with the feathery curls at his nape. Leaning against his stubbornly crossed arms, she kissed him.

While his mouth under hers was firmly unresponsive, his traitorous dick had other ideas. Spike cursed the offending organ while he fought the seductive pull of shiny pink Buffy lips nibbling sweetly and persistently at his.

A pouting vampire… who’d a thunk it? Buffy smothered a giggle at the picture he made; stark naked, arms crossed and standing so stiffly in her embrace. The only thing that stuck out further than his bottom lip was cradled in her palm, and it certainly didn’t seem to share his little tantrum.

Said bottom lip received a sharp nip of reprimand followed by a soothing swipe of her tongue. Her lightly clasping hand slid with excruciating slowness from the broad base of his erection to the weeping tip and back down again.

“What’s in it for you?” She breathed the question against his mouth as her tongue traced the entrancing bow of his upper lip. Pulling back the slightest bit, she met the swirling midnight vortex of his eyes. “Aside from me?” she asked with a kittenish smile.

The faintest of nods disturbed the proud tilt of his head. His body was practically vibrating with the need to give in to the alluring temptation of her touch. Hating that she held the power to decimate his world, he held himself in stiff anticipation of her next words.

Her hand left off it’s teasing ministrations below his waist and came up to curve around his rigid jaw. She held him gently, refusing to allow him the ease of avoidance as she forced him to meet the hazel serenity of her gaze.

“You don’t have to be alone anymore, either, Spike,” she vowed softly, shakily, the unmistakable sheen of tears glistening in her eyes.

Finally, he could relent. Her words, fraught with an emotion she had yet to reveal, one that clearly echoed the intensity of his own rush of feelings for her, freed him from his self-imposed denial of her charms.

With a shattered groan he swept her into his arms, tipping her back into the cool, rumpled sheets and covering her with his cooler body. His lips covered hers with bruising intensity, devouring their soft pink succulence like a man starved.

The softest of pained whimpers had him pulling back, whispered contrition breathed into the silk of her hair. Small hands clung to him in desperation, drawing him back to her with a vehement denial.

He rolled until she rested on top of him, her hair falling in a fragrant curtain around their faces. He wanted nothing more than to lose himself in her heat, to give in to the unfettered desire that raged within him from the slightest touch of her skin against his, but he knew she was right. Certain things had to be settled before they could move on. With one last lingering kiss, he released her and tilted his head back to look up at her flushed face.

“Not a lot I won’t give up to be with you, Slayer,” he said. “I won’t lie and say I haven’t fed, but I haven’t killed in a while now. Partly why Dru cut me loose; said I wasn’t demon enough for her.” His eyes flashed with remembered pain, but he went on.

“I don’t object to baggin’ it and I’ll fight every night at your side if that’s what’ll keep you alive and happy. Don’t mind savin’ the world, just don’t expect me to go all redemption-happy like Peaches or put up with any shit from your soddin’ Scoobies.”

Buffy’s smile lit up her whole face. “Just don’t eat them, okay?” she teased, knowing instinctively that he wouldn’t for the simple fact that it would hurt her.

No matter how optimistic she tried to be about it, he knew that the upcoming confrontation with her friends wasn’t going to be easy for her. They were going to raise quite a stink, as would his prancing arse of a grandsire, once the shock wore off. Not that he gave two shits what they thought of him, but he couldn’t allow them to hurt her. She was his mate and that gave him the right to protect her

Spike frowned. “Harris at least? He’ll never be missed,” he cajoled.

“Do you REALLY want to stick your fangs in Xander?”

He made an ‘ick’ face. “Good point, pet.”

She sat up, straddling his hips, one teasing finger trailing from his chest to his navel. “So we’re good?” she asked, her tongue peeking from between her teeth.

His hands slid up her body to frame her face and pull her down for another scorching kiss. “We’re good,” he agreed. The kiss had distracted her enough that he was able to get himself into the perfect position. “But we’re about to get better…”

With one smooth stroke he slid in to the hilt, a high-pitched gasp of surprise bursting from her as he filled her, stretching her almost to the point of pain.

The world spun as he rolled her beneath him once more. He rose up to kneel between her spread thighs and without breaking their intimate contact, pulled her up until her bottom rested on his thighs. His eyes never wavered from her face as he moved within her at a slow, almost languorous pace.

Buffy was drowning in the depths of emotion she found in his vivid blue eyes. A small part of her felt a twinge of embarrassment for blindly accepting the teachings of Giles and the Council, for believing that a Master vampire like Spike could be lumped in with the mindlessly feral creatures she spent her nights slaying. It saddened her that no one else could see in him what she now knew to be his true nature.

Spurred by a sudden surge of affection, she reached out to him. It wasn’t love- not yet- but she didn’t doubt that in a very short time it would be. Lacing her fingers with his, she pulled at him until he loomed over her, his hands still linked with hers and pressing them into the bedding beneath her shoulders. She smiled and ran her tongue invitingly over her bottom lip.

He returned her smile with one that could light up the heavens and leaned down to follow the path her tongue had taken, turning the playful gesture into a wet, penetrating kiss that effectively turned her brain to mush.

“Mmm,” she hummed happily, slipping her tongue between his lips to tangle with his. Freeing her hands, she reached up to stroke his hard chest and around to the flexing muscles in his back. Digging her nails into him, she mutely urged him to increase the rhythm of his thrusts.

Spike lifted his head, laughing softly at her fierce expression. Such a demanding little thing, he mused. He felt her tensing around him, felt the sensuous inner ripple that heralded her climax. Dropping from his hands to his elbows, he drove faster and deeper into her, barely clinging to his self-control. Just a bit longer…

Buffy thrashed beneath him, her soft cries gaining in volume as she tossed her head back and forth, nearly delirious with pleasure. She turned her head and bared her throat in silent invitation, clamping her own teeth on his right bicep when he didn’t give her his fangs fast enough.

“Jesus, Buffy!” With a throaty growl at her aggressiveness, Spike lunged and buried his sharp incisors in her neck.

An exultant scream burst from her as she came, the strangling grip of her pussy clenching around him dragging him ruthlessly along right behind her. His heavy weight blanketed her as he pitched forward, hips jerking with each spurt of his release inside her.

“I’m sorry I bit you but you were playing hard to get,” she said, her voice sounding muffled as it floated from beneath him.

He stifled a groan as he pulled out of her and rolled to his side, dragging her with him. “Don’t ever apologize for biting me, luv,” he replied with a tired grin.

Buffy giggled weakly and then tucked her head beneath his chin with a wide yawn. “Sleep now, mkay?” She was out before he could answer, her slight weight lying limp and trusting against his side, one slim arm wrapped around his waist.

Savoring the warmth of her breath puffing across his neck, Spike lightly stroked his hand up and down the curve of her spine as he contemplated the events of the past few days. He’d come back to Sunnyhell full of his grandiose plans for ridding himself of her once and for all and ended up mated to her. How was that for irony?

He was already halfway in love with her, had been since the first night he saw her, and while he wasn’t the most patient of creatures, for this he could wait an eternity if need be.

Pulling her tighter against him, Spike leaned over to nuzzle her neck and pressed a soft kiss to the raised scars of his mark. He made a silent vow to be there for her in all the ways that the others wouldn’t. Completely content, he drifted off to join his Slayer in sweet dreams, knowing they'd wake up together and when they were ready, take on the world.

~@~@~

Buffy turned from her contemplation of the smoldering ruins of what had once been Sunnydale High School, a slight frown marring her face as she peered through the acrid smoke and flashing lights. When she spotted him, her face assumed an expression of supreme indifference.

Standing beside a fire truck, Angel stared at her with that longing, puppy-dog look in his eyes. A surge of triumph swept through her when she realized that she was completely unmoved by it.

The few days since prom had been hectic, to say the least. A power hungry Mayor with demonic aspirations, a rogue Slayer, and trying to get through graduation without losing the entire graduating class.

Just another spring night on the Hellmouth.

As she watched, Faith stepped up beside him, the bite marks on her neck still red and raw. Her expression was subdued, dark eyes apprehensive as she returned Buffy’s stare.

Strong arms encircled her waist from behind and Spike rested his chin on her shoulder. “Is this the shoot-out at the O.K. Corral, luv?” he quipped, giving her an affectionate squeeze.

She laughed softly. It did indeed look as though they were facing off with the dark-haired couple. Covering his hands at her waist with one of hers, she reached back with the other to stroke his cheek, her challenging hazel eyes locked with those of her first love.

The message was clear and Angel lowered his eyes in defeat. Taking Faith’s hand in his, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the smoke.

Turning away without watching their final exit from her life, Buffy twined her arms around Spike’s neck and popped a playful kiss on his mouth.

“I think we’ve done all the damage we can do here for one night, don’t you?”

He looked around. “Chaos, disorder, and confusion. Yeah, I’d say our job here is done.”

“Let’s go home. You can show me that little thing you do with your tongue,” she suggested, her own tongue peeking between her teeth.

“Buffy?” His hands caught hers and pulled gently until she stopped.

She looked up at him, head tilted to one side in an unconscious imitation of his familiar gesture. “Yeah?”

Spike swallowed hard, his eyes fastened on the small hands he held tightly in his. Sucking in a deep, unnecessary breath, he tried again. “Buffy, I…” He lifted his head, blue eyes blazing as they finally met hers. “I love you.”

Buffy gave him a sweet, dazzling smile and threw herself into his arms.

“You’d better.”

Return to Bloodshedverse Home
 Use scroll bars to see reviews