A Trunk Full of Trouble

by Madrog

  Review me please!!!

Note: This story was inspired by the movie, Excess Baggage, a humorous romance. Problem was that the movie left me wondering what was he thinking, what was she thinking, what happened when the camera pulled away, AND most especially, what else could have happened. Ooohh, that's the fun part. (Wink, wink)

Summary: A car thief that doesn't believe in love is about to get stuck with a trunk full. This story is very AU, a world still with vampires and slayers, but does NOT follow BTVS canon. Buffy is a rebellious SIT, and Spike is his own man/vampire, not love's bitch, but love is coming. ;)
 

Chapter 1 - The Trunk

"What the hell is going on?" Another bounce and another blow to her head. The day before, disguising her voice through an electronic filter, Buffy had called the Watcher's Council, which was based in Sunnydale just north of Los Angeles, and had informed them in a male voice that Buffy Summers, had been kidnapped. She would be returned in exchange for $500,000. Because that sounded so much more impressive, she wanted to ask for a cool million, but she didn't think one of numerous slayers-in-training would be considered worth that amount. But that was the problem. She was just one of the many other slayers-in-training. She had started receiving her powers later than usual slayers, and yes, her powers were still developing but slowly. As it was, she was just a below average trainee, but she had heart. Lots of it. And what she wanted most was for the head of the council, Rupert Giles, to notice her. She wanted to stand out and be noticed, which called for drastic actions. So she had made the call the day before, and today she called again to let them know where to find Buffy Summers after dropping off the money in a shopping mall next to a Victoria's Secret store. That store should get Rupert's attention if the money didn't.

And then the plan took off on a life of its own. She made the last call, swiftly duct taped her feet and mouth and handcuffed her hands. That done, she got into the trunk of a red convertible BMW stolen from Giles and shut the lid. So far, a stupid plan but not a difficulty until she felt someone get into the car, start it up and drive off.

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"Spot on perfect. Today's your day, mate. The exact type red BMW called for. The convertible part will just be a bit of tasty, chocolate icing on the cake. Precisely what was ordered from the buyer." The man of average height with a lean, muscular build, light brown hair was dressed in a well cut charcoal suit, black driving gloves, and extremely dark sun glasses, a look designed to blend in but still look like he should be driving such an expensive car. He congratulated himself on his good luck. With the help of a electronic toys he had bought from a black-market electronics wizard, the car thief was in the car and starting the engine in under thirty seconds and another thirty seconds to drive around and around and then out of the parking garage. Free and clear.

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The driver headed for the old, run down, water front warehouse district. When he came to the building he was looking for, the front, a miserable excuse for a façade, slid out of the way to allow the BMW to enter and then slid closed again when he pushed his remote control. As he drove through a short, dark tunnel and came out into a garage, there were cars parked on either side, at least twelve cars total.

After parking in the middle of the open isle, he calmly climbed out of the car. Before two steps, he had pulled off his gloves revealing black nail polish, and by the third step he attacked his tie and yanked it off. Next, he reached up and pulled off the brown wig he was wearing to reveal short hair dyed a platinum blonde. Not a fool, he always wore a wig on a job since his normal hair was so memorable to any possible witness to the heist. Upon taking off the wig, he went from the run of the mill business man to Spike. The name explained a good deal of his real look. Many said it was a Billy Idol look, but he preferred the updated term goth since moving on from 1980s music to alternative rock. He walked through the office to a back room that he had converted into a bedroom and bath, rooms to change his clothes.

Besides his extreme look and being a professional car thief, Spike actually had another peculiar attribute. Not a disease really, more of a serious condition. He was a vampire, and if he had a choice, which he hadn't, he wouldn't be one of the fanged ones. In fact, to make his situation worse, he was kind of an outcast from his kind because he was a hybrid vamp.

In other words, he just wasn't an ordinary vampire. Not even from the very first night. First off, his sire, Drusilla, had some serious bats in her belfry. Those bats were not only flying around the bell but were ringing it. Ding dong. Ding dong. The only reason she wasn't in the loony bin was she would just eat all the other inmates. Spike had always believed that was why he was never a good and proper vampire. After the turning in 1880, Drusilla took him to a hotel and introduced him to his new family, a group of six vampires that traveled together all over Europe. The alpha vampire, that right bastard, taught him to hunt, taught him to kill, taught him to feed, and other blah, blah, blah vampire things. And William, Spike's real name, stayed true to his human nature and wanted to please and be accepted by the group. They expected him to be vicious with blood rush ringing in his ears. One night on the hunt, a railroad spike was handy so he used it during the kill. He used it again and again and again. As a result, he became Spike. Not soft, polite, sensitive William, but hard, raucous, and viscous Spike. The first few years as a fledgling, Spike ran amok, always looking for a good fight.

It was eight years into his life as a vampire that Spike noticed that he preferred the fight to the feeding. In fact, he left more and more fights without biting and drinking away some person's life. The farther he got from his turning, the more William's personality started to blend with Spike's. Gradually, Spike no longer even wanted to feed from humans at all. As an alternative, he would pick up a pint or two from a butcher and fulfill his thrust. All he could figure out was that when Drusilla had turned him, she had botched the job royally, leaving William still inside along with the demon. The pair of them, human and demon, eventually learned to exist together seamlessly so that now, not even Spike himself could tell them apart except on very rare occasions. Consequently, he was a vampire with a human soul. That simple, but...not really.

The other vampires could tell something was wrong and shunned him, making him feel like the dozy prat in a school yard that no one wanted to play with. He knew that this new unlife style of his would never be accepted by his family. No kidding. So he took off on his own, never traveling with vampires again. Since he was looking for a new unlife, he decided travel to the new world. So he found a boat sailing for America and stowed away. For the most part, he lived in the human world and around demons that don't kill humans.

That's where his little story eventually rambled through the years to grand theft auto, which had been his business for the last two decades. Now vampires may avoid him, but demons that were merchants were happy to deal with him, and he had a very important demon client, Hectoriz, that Spike had an order from for a specific five cars due tomorrow, and the car he just parked in the garage was number five. Fini.

After taking a quick shower, he started to dress to go out for a little fun. He was meeting a couple of friends to hear a new retro-rock band playing at a mixed demon and human club. In fact, he may even indulge in a bottle of champagne to celebrate. His money man was due any minute and then he was going to see what beautiful ladies wanted to dance tonight. He never brought them home; he just didn't, not wanting the complications, but he could certainly have fun for awhile.

He pulled on a skin tight black t-shirt, and then added a rich purple, silk button down which he buttoned up so that only a inch or two of his t-shirt was showing. Next he slid into soft, black leather pants and well worn boots. He didn't have a mirror for the obvious reason, but he would wager that his outfit would do the trick with the sweat bits at the bar. Last was a faint amount of eye liner to set his eyes off, a throw back from the eighties, which did make him wish he could see in the mirror to make sure he got it right.

Throwing his black, leather duster over his arm, he headed back into the office area to wait. Wasting time, he went through the red, leather back pack that had been in the front seat of the car. The driver's license read Buffy Summers and had a picture of a young blonde, who Spike figured would probably be pretty if she didn't have such a frown and too much makeup. She looked like a raccoon. Oh bullocks, now he really did want a mirror to check his own liner as compared to the said animal.

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Since Spike had a radio always playing in the office, the first bang he heard was so faint it barely registered with him. But the series of three bangs definitely grabbed his attention and gave it a good shake. He hurried to the window overlooking the cars in the warehouse, even going so far as pressing his hands and even the tip of his nose against the pane, Spike waited to hear another sound. He didn't have long to wait. The banging started up again and continued long enough for him to zero in on the BMW he had just snagged. In fact, the car was shifting and bouncing. "What the bleeding hell was is going on down there?"

Startled would be a King Kong sized understatement. Grabbing a tire iron on his way to the now rocking piece of German engineering, Spike cautiously walked around the car. Was it a demon or human or what? 'Right, the trunk it is, mate. How bad could he or she be if they got stuck in a trunk.' Taking a unneeded breath to prepare himself, he carefully, staying as far back as possible, sharply jerked the trunk open. What he saw in the trunk shocked him so much that he shut the trunk and flew backwards all under two seconds. In fact, he landed on his leather clad ass.

Standing back up and shaking himself like a wet poodle out of his shock, Spike ran through what he had just seen. Blonde girl. Check. Feet taped together. Check. Mouth taped. Check. Hands cuffed. Check.

Since the banging had not occurred again, he tried to convince himself that he hadn't seen a girl in that car at all. He was just seeing things, hearing things. He cautiously stepped back up to the car, assumed a defensive stance just in case but more relaxed than before, and opened the trunk again.

Nope. Not his imagination. One car, one girl. Oh, balls.

Spike just stared down at the girl, recognizing her as the owner of the purse he had been looking through. She was squirming around, obviously and vainly trying to get free, and he didn't need to hear her words to know that she was pleading with him for help.

'Ding, ding, ding. Dinner is served.' Spike mentally slapped his inner demon for the offensive thought as he slammed the lid back down.. Granted, he was hungry, but dinner wasn't going to be her. It was just a bad joke by a cheeky demon.

After taking a deep unneeded breath, Spike took a moment to access the situation. Didn't help. "Why me?" Spike mumbled. Not sure what to do, he left the girl in the trunk for the time being. After shrugging into his duster, Spike locked up the garage good and tight and headed across the street to the clean dinner that screamed low rent.

Before the door had even closed, the red-headed waitress with the 38D sized chest behind the counter called to him. "Hi, Spike. What can I get for you?"

"Hey, Glenda. Cup of coffee." Spike answered by long time habit as he headed over to the pay phone on the wall. He had never had a land line phone installed into the garage because they were so easily traced. Hellooo. Stolen goods here. And call him old fashioned, well he was old, he had never bought a cell phone. He didn't really want one because he liked his privacy and the only people that he wanted to call could be found at the bar where his friends met, The Welcome Mat, which was the same place he had been headed tonight. He walked up close to the man already on the phone to get his attention. "Hey, man, how long are you going to be on there?"

The phone hog held up three fingers. "Three minutes. Just three more minutes."

Spike wanted to jerk the handset out of the git's hand and shove him through the wall, but instead he walked over to the counter and sat down where Glenda had set his cup. Every time he could catch the caller's eye he would tape on his watch, mouthed words at him like "please" or "get off," or putting his hand up to his ear shaped like a phone and pantomimed handing up. As creative as his guestures were, none worked. Finally Spike called over, "Sir, sir? Look, I really love my wife, and she is in the hospital..." The quiver in his voice and the words he said was all it took. The prat told his friend that he had to go and relinquished to phone to Spike.

Spike didn't even let the person who answered the phone say hello. "Xander. It's Spike... Where the hell are you. You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago. Yeah, I got it, but...Xander...Xander!...Shut your gob, would you already. We have a problem...Yeah, a big problem. Get you arse in gear and get over here now!" Spike hung up the phone. "Glenda, luv, I need that coffee to go."

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Chapter 2 – The Trouble

"What the fucking hell is going on?" Buffy gritted out, wishing that she had a cigarette and a flashlight, in that order. Actually, Buffy's priority number one was to get out of the damn trunk so the flashlight would have to come first. If she had one, that is. She changed tactics. First she had been kicking on the roof of the trunk. Now she started kicking the lock keeping her in the trunk.

Ever since she found out that she was supposed to be some slayer girl thingie, her life has been a mess. Well, more of a mess than it had already been. Giles, the head watcher guy, showed up one day at her foster home and took her with the barest of explanation to the Watchers' Council to train with the other slayers-in-training. Vampires and demons? What's up with that? Bam. One day she was the bane of her foster mother's existence, and the next, she was playing kung fu with other girls. Ok, she could do that. Also, she now had good food and shelter, and everyone was nice to her. Great. But, and there was always one of those damn buts and it wasn't even attached to a good looking male, she had been there a year, and her slayer powers were not developing. To be exact, her strength was only slightly above normal and hadn't changed.

As a result, since she was the one that was at the academy the longest, it was easy for people to overlook her. She just blended into the scenery. Needing attention? Voila, a kidnapping. She had never known her dad, and she was taken away from her crack head mom when she was five years old, so she was starved for attention. For her scheme, she had fixated on the head of the Watchers' Council, Rupert Giles. Father figure much?

It should have been so easy. Make a couple of calls giving them directions, tape herself up, get in the trunk, and wait for the rescue. She just hadn't known that she was waiting for the car to be stolen. Of all the bad fucking luck? Buffy continued kicking at the lock with what slayer strength she did have.

One moment she was in the dark, and the next she was looking at the ceiling of the garage. Well, score one for Buffy. She scrambled out of the trunk the best she could while being bound. First she went for the tape around her mouth. When it was finally off, she took numerous deep breaths before attacking the tape on her legs. Last, she reached into her right boot and pulled out the key to the handcuffs. And using that little jewel, she freed up her right hand, but not bothering to unlock the left. After all, the handcuffs could come in handy as a weapon.

There were expensive cars everywhere, and normally she would take the time to drool on each one, but not this time. Ignoring them all, she walked around checking every door. All she found were locked. Rushing back to her car, she found her cell phone where it had slid under her seat when the car was in the process of being stolen.

"Hello, Watchers' Council."

The person that answered the phone was so calm that Buffy wanted to reach through the line and snatch her bald, as her no good mother use to say. "This is Buffy Summers. I need to talk to Giles. Fast. Like last week."

When Giles came on the line, he was just as calm. Maybe she should snatch him bald, too. "Buffy?"

"Giles. I need help. I've been kidnapped."

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he sighed. He had suspected that she was faking the kidnapping, but now things were different. "That I know since the car wasn't where it was supposed we were told it would be. Where are you?"

"I don't know where I am. All I know is that I'm in this huge warehouse with all these cars."

"Have you tried to leave?" He talked as if Buffy were a child.

Yep, she should snatch him bald when she saw him next. "Duh! Of course I tried, but every door is locked. Giles, I'm scared. You have to help...Wait, he's back." Buffy slammed the phone closed, threw it in the car and ran to the far side of the garage, hiding behind a yellow Ferrari.

Spike walked in and relocked the door and immediately headed for the red BMW. Bloody hell, the trunk was open, and when he looked inside, it was empty. Bloody fucking hell.

"Can I have my car?" A female voice called from his right.

Spike ducked behind the car and peeked around until he could catch a glimpse of her. Feeling like a grade A ponce, he hid because if she saw his face, she could identify him. She had caught a glimpse when he had opened the trunk, but that was only a glimpse. Of course his hair stood out, but he could always dye it. He just wanted her gone and her car left behind.

"Hey, can I have my car back so I can leave? I won't tell anyone about this place. Promise." Instead of sounding scared as Spike would have expected, her voice now sounded impatient.

"Look, ducks, I'm sorry. You don't know how sorry I am that you are here." He was trying to hide his British accent but was doing a lousy job, especially after just calling her "ducks."

Buffy started creeping to her right, towards the tunnel he had come in through. "Then give me my car back, and I will leave."

Now this he knew the answer to. "You're going to have to leave. You got that part right, but you are leaving without your car."

Normally, Spike wasn't particularly thrilled with being a vampire, but this time he was thankful for the speed that came with his demon. He caught up with her at the door to the outside and turned her around by the shoulders. Hiding his face be-damned. "Look, I don't..."

Slaammm! Buffy brought her boney little knee up into the man's leather covered crotch as hard as she could and judging from his reaction, it had been pretty hard. She snickered as he hopped around as she turned back to the door, the unfortunately locked door.

When he could finally stand easier, he held up a hand, palm towards her, and told her, "I don't want to fight with you." Lot of sodding good that did him when she attacked again. They tussled until he could throw her off. Granted he was way stronger than she was, but he just didn't want to hurt her. "Hey, Lenox Lewis' sis, I don't want to fight with you. Why don't we come back into the garage and chat this out."

The next attack was worse, sending them rolling down the tunnel. Mostly defending himself from her stronger than expected blows, they rolled towards the cars. That's were he finally got the upper hand, and opened his mouth to give her a blistering...

"I've got to pee." Buffy's eyes implored Spike to help her with the delicate problem.

That definitely wasn't anywhere near on this planet what he was expecting the blonde to say. Her look was on the harsh side, but her voice sounded like a little girl. Oh, man, he wanted to refuse her request just out of perversity, but the Victorian inside him couldn't deny the lady, even a lady that had just knocked his stones up to his waist. "Now, I told you that I don't want to fight, so if you do anything between here and the loo, I am going to tie you back up like you were in the car. Got it?"

"Got it."

It was a small restroom. He showed her where everything was located, and when she wasn't paying attention, he took the handcuff still dangling from her left wrist and locked her to an exposed pipe near the toilet.

Buffy jerked frantically on the pipe. "Hey, no fair."

"Frankly right now, chicky, I don't care what is fair or not. Bugger Marquis of Queensbury, it's my rules now." Before he could berate her anymore, he could hear Xander calling for him in the garage. Spike turned back to the girl and pointed his finger one inch from her nose. "Don't touch anything. Don't say anything. Don't ...just don't." He shut the door before she lashed out with her leg, but he could hear her yells, "Hey, pathetic much? Don't you want to play anymore?"

Spike rushed over to the entry way to meet Xander, who was sauntering in, cockily strutting with every step. Spike's bag man was a human, and his good sense of humor eased his way through the black market demon world. He held up a bag for Spike to see. "I know we were going to meet tomorrow, but since I was coming over, I brought it. Got it right here. Two hundred thousand, your half of this job. They will be here to pick up the cars early tomorrow morning."

"Xander, we have a big problem." Spike didn't even need to breathe, but he was hyperventilating. "Mucho grande problem."

Straight off, Xander spotted the red BMW and was drawn towards it. "Oh, sweeeet. The convertible was such a nice extra touch."

"XANDER!" At the frantic tone in his friend's voice, Xander finally focused on Spike. "We have a problem."

His brunette friend rolled his eyes. "You've told me that already, ditto man."

Xander took a step towards the car again, but Spike blocked him. "No." Spike grabbed hold of Xander's ears and pulled them open wide. "The owner of the car came with the car."

Xander just stared. "Whaa..."

"I stole the bloody car, right? And then when I got here, I heard banging. I opened the trunk, and wham, there's the owner all tied up pretty as you please." Spike attempted to calm down. Yeah, right.

"We are so screwed. The owner's in the trunk?"

"Nooo!" Spike slapped Xander against the side of his head for not paying attention, which was beside the point that Spike hadn't even told that part of the story yet. But here goes. "When I went over to the diner to call you, she got out."

"OUT?" Xander yelped and started to look around the garage.

"No, I caught and handcuffed her to the pipe in the bathroom."

"So let me get this straight for us science fiction fans. You have the owner of this BMW handcuffed in your bathroom."

"Yes." Relieved that Xander finally understood, Spike vigorously nodded.

Xander collapsed on a ragged sofa against a nearby wall. "We are soooo screwed."

Spike joined him. "Don't I know it. Bugger it all to hell."

"You've got to get rid her."

"Gee, Xan, did you think that one up all on your own?"

They heard a crash and then glass breaking. "There went the medicine cabinet." Spike rolled his eyes. "She's got to go before she breaks the toilet."

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"Get in the trunk." Spike pushed Buffy toward the back end of the 1967 black corvette with red leather interior, class on wheels.

Buffy was now wearing her red leather jacket retrieved from the back seat of her car and had her back pack from Spike's office. She also had on bell bottom black pants, and a black shirt that said, "I bite," which Spike thought could mean many things and all be true. Her outfit wouldn't be complete without the handcuffs. To tell the truth, he would have shackled her feet if he had some.

Buffy balked. "I'm not getting in there."

"Yes, you are."

"Oh, no, I'm not."

"You've already been in one, and it was on purpose, I might add, missy. Do it for old time sake." Spike grabbed the back of her head and tried to shove her in.

Buffy ducked to the side out of his grasp. "Read my lips – NO!"

Buffy got in a good shot with her elbow to his ribs, and while he was distracted, she snatched his cigarette and took a couple of drags. "Here," she picked up a black, stocking cap off a work table. "I can wear this pulled down over my face.

Spike stood for a moment and debated. Finally, he shoved her and the knit cap into the passenger seat of the corvette. He didn't notice her toss his cigarette over her shoulder because he was thinking of all the places he would like to drop her off, all of which she would hate.

He got in and started the car up. "Ok, you annoying bint, here are the rules. The cap stays down over your eyes so you can't see where this place is located. Second," he shoved her head between her legs, "you stay down like this. Cap on. Head down."

"As if." She shot back up straight in her seat.

"Oh, yes if." He shoved her back down.

He fought with her to keep her down until they were about five miles before he let her up.

"Geez. Paranoid much." She took off the cap and threw it at him. "So tell me, did you get off stealing my car?" She waited for him to answer but waited for nothing. "Oh, I get it. You are the strong, silent type. Oh wait, sorry, that would be the weak, peroxide type." Buffy reached out and opened the glove compartment, but he immediately slammed it shut before it was completely open. "Ooooh, watcha got in there? How to pick up chick books?"

Spike glared over at her but kept his silence.

"What is it? What do you need this old...?"

"Antique."

"Old car for? Does it make you feel young, grandpa. All those cars in that garage, and you pick this to drive?" There was no way she was going to admit just how hot she thought the car was. Or how hot he was. That would be a cut-out-her-tongue offense, but man, he must be a chick magnet. No book or car needed.

Spike was trying not to laugh. 'Grandpa.' She had no idea how old he was. She would have to try a different insult to get him to bite.

Damn, the topic of his car hadn't worked. Buffy went for simple. "So what's your name?"

With no expression on his face, Spike looked at her and then back at the road. "John Doe."

"Funny." Bored, bored, bored. She was bored, and she wanted to take it out on him. "This is all your fault anyway. You screwed up my kidnapping plan."

That finally provoked Spike's attention. His head snapped around to look at her like she had two heads, which god forbid because then she would have two mouths to talk with. "You put yourself in that bloody trunk, you daft bint?"

"Damn straight. I had just called them with a disguised voice telling them the location of the car when you stole the car, Mr. Grand Theft Auto."

After waiting for a reply for a few minutes, Buffy realized that she wasn't going to get one. Rolling her eyes, she tried to think of something else to provoke him. "What happened to your hair? Someone dip you in white paint?"

Wide miss on her part, Spike thought. He didn't give a rat's ass what anyone thought of his hair, and believe him, tons had made comments. But he did give her an A for effort so far during the drive to provoke him.

"Are you trying to pick up girls with that look...or maybe its guys. All that black leather, they must take one look at your ass and nearly swoon." Buffy could have slapped herself. She had practically admitted that she had ogled his ass, which she really had, but she didn't want him to know that.

Oh, he hadn't missed the slip and found it very interesting, but had had enough of her needling for a while. "One time I stole this car that had a Pomeranian in it. It yapped less than you." That was all he said for the next twenty minutes.

For the last fifteen of those twenty minutes, they had been driving in a very densely wooded area, and he turned off on what ended up to be a dead end road. Perfect. As soon he was in park, he reached over and undid her cuffs.

"Oh, God, I am SO glad to get those off. My wrists are killing me."

Spike got out of the car and went around to her door. When he opened the door, Buffy started catching on. "Oh no. You can't leave me out here. Did you leave the Pomeranian out here? How long did it last?"

Spike pulled her kicking and screaming about twenty feet from the car and left her by a tree. "Nothing personal, goldilocks. I just don't want to be associated with kidnapping, even if it is a fake kidnapping. "

Buffy pleaded. "But you can't leave me here. There are bears, wolves, and who knows what."

"You can no doubt talk them out of eating you." Spike got back into his car and started the engine. And BAM, Buffy hurled herself onto the hood of the car, gripping where the wind shield wipers were located.

Well, that got a reaction from Spike. Spike shot out of the car and raced around to her side. "What the bloody fucking hell do you think you are doing?" Grasping her by the collar of her leather coat, he pulled her off and heard her slide along, a sound like fingernails on a chalk board to his ears. He kept his grip on her but stared down at the hood. "Look what you did, you empty headed chit." He pushed her down until her nose was four inches from the paint. "See those? Those scratches are blasphemy. This is a 1967 Corvette, not some 1980 Honda Civic." He pulled her back up and looked at her.

"Sorry?" He had her so high off the ground that the toes of her boots hardly touched the ground.

Radiating anger, he just looked at her. But that turned out to be a mistake. He should have just thrown her to the side and gone on. But there was just something about her that made him want to help her instead of ditch her, and damn it all to hell, he hated that feeling, especially after her scratching his car. There was just something about her that spoke in whispers to something deep inside of him. Spike let go of her and walked back to the driver's side while Buffy took advantage of the moment and hopped back into the car. Ok, Spike thought, he needed to go to Plan B, that is think of a Plan B.

Plan B ended up driving her back to the main road and kicking her out of the car two miles from a gas station. Thankfully, she was pissed but realized this was a better situation and didn't complain much. All he had to do was throw her back pack that she had forgotten at her as he drove off.

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Yeah, to tell the honest truth, which he was only going to do to himself in the privacy of his car, he felt bad about dumping that girl on the side of the road. But it wasn't as if she was exactly weaponless. Her mouth could stop any nasty driving by that might mistakenly think she looked yummy. He was so agitated that he smoked his last couple of fags in the couple of minutes it took to get to the nearby gas station. Well, put fags on top of his shopping list. When he did go inside, even with the addition to his list, the list was short. Two packs of cigarettes, some snacks, and most importantly, a bottle of Jack Daniels. If he ever needed a good buzz, it was tonight.

As the cashier rang him up, Spike glanced at the television over to the side of the counter, the typical country mini-mart center piece for the boring times during the days and nights with no customers. He watched with a tad of interest as an industrial building burned back in Los Angeles, which was of little interest until he recognized the building as the garage in which he stored his cars. And then, as if he wasn't in enough shock, a picture of the girl he had just dropped off on the side of the road was flashed up on the screen. Spike listened to the newsreader in horror. "...Her name is Buffy Summers, and she is assumed to have been kidnapped. The car she had been driving was found in this burning building that appears to be storage for car thieves, leading the police to believe that she was kidnapped by the same car thief that used this garage to store his pilfered cars..."

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Chapter 3 – The Key

Spike didn't want to look too conspicuous by running, so he tried to break the speed walking record getting to his car and pulling back onto the road. He found Buffy about a mile from the gas station. Making a u-turn on the two lane highway, he tried to get her attention. His problem was that he did get her attention as he turned around, but she was livid. He could almost see her slam, a refusal to have anything to do with him now.

"Buffy, Buffy, come here. I need your help." 'Things just can't go easy when it came to this hellion,' Spike thought as he watched her turn around and walk the other way. As a result he had to back up down the shoulder of the road. "Buffy, you don't understand..."

"And I don't want to, John Doe." She briefly glared at him.

Again she turned her direction, and Spike had to play catch up. Frustrated, he put the car in park and hopped out, running after her. "Buffy..." She just wouldn't stop. He grabbed her elbow -which she jerked out of his grasped - but she did stop. "Look, remember the warehouse where all my cars were located?"

Buffy stood with her back to the road and her hands on her hips. "Yeh, but just not how to get there. Happy?"

"Well, that's the rub." Spike faced her, trying to get her to understand. "It doesn't matter where the bloody warehouse was located because it burned down. It was all over the television at the gas station."

"So?"

"Your damn car was in there, and now they are going to assume that I was the wanker that kidnapped you."

The ramifications of this new turn of events started sinking in for Buffy. "Double damn, Giles is going to kill me for getting his car destroyed."

"Hey, hello, you dippy bint. Your harebrained scheme to act like you were kidnapped has now set people after me. But an even worse problem is that the buyer that gave me the two hundred thousand dollars for the cars that I have in my trunk is going to be very angry to say the least, pet."

As they are arguing on the side of the road, a semi truck came around the curve in the highway, and its headlights fell directly on Buffy. It never registered on Buffy, but it did with Spike. He reached out sharply, grabbed both of her arms jerked her into the ditch beside the road. She landed hard and even harder when Spike landed on top of her. Both were a bit disoriented for a moment, not worried about what they were just arguing about or how they were situated. Out of male instinct, Spike was thinking how soft she was, and female instinct, she was thinking about the hard muscles she felt. Spike was also thinking about similar lines of "hard" when he could feel himself beginning to harden. Needless to say, Spike was back up on his feet and off of the crazy bint in record time.

To cover up her confusing reaction to him, Buffy resorted to a "pissed off" offensive attitude. "What the hell do you think you are doing?"

"Saving your arse." Spike fired back. "I should be hearing a thank you from you. Now get in the sodding car already."

Buffy wiped the dirt off her clothes. "So why should I go with you?"

"To help me with the police."

"Naaahhh."

"So I won't be a fugitive."

Oh, this was fun watching him beg. "No, I don't think so."

Spike was still some what distracted from his pleasant contact with her body, so he was having a hard time bargaining with the shrew. The next thing he said popped into his mind and what a stupid mind it was. "I've got ding dongs?" He waved his arm at the car. He watched, fascinated as she pushed her lower lip out while considering his offer, a lip begging to be nibbled.

"Ok." 'Well, at least I don't have to walk,' Buffy told herself.

Spike just blinked at her four or five times before following her. Now granted Spike considered ding dongs a gift from the gods, but he couldn't believe they convinced the tart, who he was having extremely unwelcome lewd thoughts about.

Once on the road, Buffy looked over at the platinum blonde. "Pervert."

Maybe he should smash that ding dong she was eating in her face. "Pervert? I pull you out of the way of the truck, and I'm the pervert?"

"Let me think about it. You on me." Buffy took an infinitesimal pause. "Yep, pervert."

Spike oh so wanted to bang his head on the steering wheel. By the time they were pulling into the gas station, Spike was seriously considering flashing her some fangs.

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Opening the diner's door, Angel, a two hundred plus year old vampire with a soul, stepped through a fifty-year time warp. The coffee shop was all beige, beige walls, beige floors, beige countertops. If it wasn't beige, it was brown. The highlights were the chrome stools around a U shaped counter and a few booths in the back. In the very back, through a slit of a window, Angel could see a short order cook busily flipping hamburger patties. Definitely low rent, but cleaner than some high dollar restaurants he had patronized.

Twenty-four hours ago, he had been in Turkey. Now he was in a little used part of the waterfront district of Los Angeles in a coffee shop all because Giles had called him to find a missing slayer-in-training. Nothing demon or vampire related. No, she had been kidnapped, and the ransom was five hundred thousand. And the slayer-in-training in question? Why wasn't he surprised? Just say that it was a good thing that for some strange reason, he had a soft spot for Buffy. Nothing sexual, but a fatherly or older brotherly type feeling, and this baby sis could be a pain in his ass.

The trail so far had been strange to say the very least. To begin with, Giles' car and Buffy had gone missing. At first, everyone assumed that Buffy had just been going for a joy ride, but then the first call came in letting them know it was a kidnapping, which still left Giles and Angel with some suspicions. The caller asked for $500,000 and said he would call back with instructions. Last night, they were told to put the money on a specific bridge, which had been done. And what they didn't know was that they were right about the kidnapping being a sham by Buffy. The last phone call told them that they could find Buffy in the trunk of Giles' car in the parking garage at the Old Californian office building. Surprisingly, neither Buffy nor the car were where they were suppose to be. Strange. Then Buffy's phone call later made them believers that she had really been kidnapped by some car thief. Now Angel was hunting them down.

As he walked through the door a curvaceous red-headed woman, whose name tag read "Glenda," called out a warm welcome.

Nodding in acknowledgement, Angel sat down at the counter close to her. "Can I get a cup of coffee, please?"

"Sure thing, cutie." With the ease of a long repeated action, she put a cup in front of him and started pouring. "You don't look familiar, and I think I would have remembered you. Do you live or work around here?"

Listening to the pitches and tones of her voice, Angel wondered how this southern belle had made it out of the South all the way up to this part of Los Angeles. "No, but I am looking for someone that told me he worked in this area, but I can't seem to find him. I was hoping you knew him."

With another flashy smile, she set the coffee back on the warmer. "Well, since most everyone in this area passes through here at one time or the other, and since I am so friendly by nature, I know most everyone in this area."

'Pay dirt,' Angel thought. "I was watching the news, and I'm afraid that his building was the building that burned."

"Oh, I do know him. Is Spike who you're looking for? I'm not one hundred percent sure which warehouse was his, but I haven't seen Spike since before the fire so that could very well have been his place."

"Spike...Right, that's him." Watching her as he nodded, he knew for sure he had hit pay dirt. "Where else do you think I could find him?"

"I don't know...wait...He sent me a postcard once from where he said he goes to get away. A little out -of -town hide away, he said." She went back and pulled the item from its place behind the cash register and handed it to him.

Angel took another sip of coffee, which was strong but surprisingly good. As he turned over the postcard, bingo, the return address was written in the top left corner. He made idle chit chat with Glenda for a few more moments while he memorized the address of his next destination.

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Buffy got out of the car and approached the pay phone while working on one of the bargained for ding dongs. "I don't have any change." She poked another piece of the tasty, chocolate snack into her mouth.

Spike was mumbling under his breath before asking. "Worthless...What's your number?" He quickly dialed the number he was given. "Yeah, hi, I need to make a collect call from Buffy Summers to a Rupert Giles." He handed her the phone, and whispered close to her ear, "Remember. Tell them I did NOT kidnap you." Under his breath, he added, "and who would want to?"

Buffy almost choked on her next bite. Despite what he said, his whisper so close in her ear that was...she, well...his breath on her neck caused a tingle down her spine. But then hearing Giles' voice in her other ear was like a cold bucket of water poured over her head. Back to business. "Giles? This guy who kidnapped me is a vampire...no, he hasn't bitten me. Yet. But he's molesting me. He made me put my hand on his...on his penis." She was definitely not sure why she had said that. All she knew was that she just wasn't done playing with the blonde Brit. There was so much more teasing she could do as opposed to going back to the academy and training. Back to being ignored.

Spike reached around her and slammed the lever down to disconnect the call. "You. Crazy. Bitch." He walked off a few feet and then came back. "How exactly did you know I was a vampire?"

Along with a small shrug of her left shoulder, she rolled her eyes. "Because you were laying on me in that ditch back there, too-low-temperature boy, and because I'm a SIT." What she didn't want to admit was that she should have sensed that he was a vampire but her slayer powers were still so under developed that she had needed to touch him to tell. And after figuring out what he was, she just didn't feel that he was a threat. Call it woman's intuition instead of slayer's.

At first, all he could do was sputter around two words. "A SIT?"

"Slayer-in-Training."

"Bloody fucking wonderful. A slayer-in-training? A hey-I'd-like-to-stake-you slayer? Could this get any more buggered up?" While pacing around the car, Spike ran his hands through his hair. "Ok, yeah. I'm a vampire, but I didn't kidnap you, and I certainly didn't molest or bite you. Bloody hell, I haven't even made so much as a pass at you." He walked off again and then back to the front of his car. "I didn't kidnap or molest you. I want to hear you say it."

Buffy just shifted her balance from one foot to the other and gave him a small smile. And...she said nothing.

Which wasn't good enough for Spike. He went nose to nose with her. "Say it...SAY IT. SAY IT. SAY IT."

"Alright already, you big blonde baby. You didn't kidnap me, molest me or try to bite you."

"Huh...What a right, fucking cock up. Now, stay away from my car, she-devil straight from bleeding hell." Flipping her off with a two fingered salute, Spike headed for the driver's door, keeping up a continuous tirade. "Bugger it all to hell, they know that I'm a vamp and will be sharpening stakes with my name on them. Birch, oak, pine. Drift wood. Whatever is handy."

'Wait. He's leaving. Okay, Buffy, think fast.' As quickly as she could, Buffy darted into the passenger side of the car, handcuffed herself to a handle on the door and popped the key in her mouth.

He froze. One big, bad vampire. One petite girl, albeit a slayer in training, but from what he could tell, she didn't have any special powers. Maybe just a tad stronger than the average human. So again, one vamp and one girl, and he froze when she wiggled the hand cuffed to the door and stuck out her tongue upon which rested the key. "Aaeerrgh."

She looked down at the hand he had extended and shook her head.

Spike raised his hand to beneath her mouth. "Spit it out. Now."

When she just raised her eyebrows, expressing her defiance, Spike circled and then shook his hands on each side of her neck as if he was enjoying the pleasure of wringing her neck. However, it was when she smiled at him triumphantly, he snapped. "You, little girl, are going to give that sodding key to me." With his fingers, he started digging in her mouth, searching for the key. "Where is it?" He even went as far as prying her jaws apart and tried to see in.

She pulled back coughing and gagging. "You made me swallow it."

"No way. My luck can't be that bloody bad." He grabbed her head again, preparing for another look when he saw one of the employees come out and head towards the trash dumpster parked behind his corvette, which would have him passing right in front of the windshield. Nice little peep show. Thinking fast, or if truth be told, not really thinking well at all, he pressed his lips to hers. Fortunately, he was holding her head so instead of looking like she was struggling, which she was, she looked like she was enjoying a kiss with her presumed boyfriend, which she wasn't.

That just wasn't what she expected from John Doe. Pissed – yes. Yelling – yes. Kissing – no. When he had been forcibly searching her mouth, she had been batting at his hands with her free hand until her brain registered that his cool lips were without warning on her warm ones. That temperature difference was hard to miss. Ew...ugh...uh...hm?...mmm.

Spike released her when the boy, who had enjoyed spying on them, finally traipsed back inside the store. However, the little voyeur was back out again with more trash bags in a matter of seconds. Luckily Spike hadn't released her head so it was easy pulling her back into another kiss.

The second time, Spike didn't initially notice that he was using his tongue, and judging from her first surprised but then agreeable moans, she wasn't objecting. Yet when their tongues entwined, she had his full attention. Of course, he justified the intimate intrusion into her mouth as still trying to find the key, and that it was just an unexpected byproduct that the kiss was...not unpleasant. Uh...no, no way. No more than that. Just pleasant. But the clerk was now gone, and he pulled back sharply. Still not admitting defeat, Spike put his index finder in her mouth and felt around, trying to convince both of them that this had all been about the key. No key. As it happened, Spike didn't pull his finger out fast enough, and Buffy's mouth closed around him.

With malevolent intent, Buffy shut her mouth fully intending to bite his obtrusive finger, but her teeth just ended up resting on his skin. The moisture from her lips wet his finger as he slowly withdrew it.

She hadn't done it on purpose. Just happened. Completely innocent. Yeh, completely. Of that, both were sure and both wanted to be unmoved by the accident. Hah...neither were. Buffy wondered if he could see how flaming red she was blushing from a mixture of embarrassment and instant desire.

While Buffy worried about her complexion, Spike was worrying about the part of him that would be a much more tell tale sign. With every millimeter he had withdrawn his finger, his shaft had grown. Now he just plain hurt with a craving for the brat. He looked into her eyes, trying to see if she understood what just happened better than he did, but instead, he saw his own mirrored confusion. Without a word, Spike pulled away from her, started the engine, and after a brief pause, pulled out onto the narrow highway.

Buffy was glad he hadn't spoken because she wasn't sure what she could say. Driving in a bit of silence was definitely of the good, giving her time to try to think about what exactly had happened in the last few minutes. She had eaten his ding-dongs. That had been tasty. She called Giles for him, and then lied, causing John Doe to go ballistic. That had been wicked fun. She had cuffed herself to John Doe's precious car and stuck the key in her mouth. That had been massively cool. What she hadn't counted on was the guy getting so physical with her. Sure, he had touched her before, shoving her in the car, pulling her out of the car, but those didn't count; they really weren't touching her.

But concerning the key in her mouth, he went over the edge. Only her dentist should stick his hands in her mouth like that, and she didn't even like the dentist doing it. But his fingers in her mouth were in a league of their own. Why was something that should be so high on the eeeww scale, so erotic when it was his finger? Then he was kissing her on the lips, holding her head tight so she couldn't pull away. From the corner of her eye, she had seen the gas station clerk watching them and then understood why John Doe had her in a lip lock. Instead of tasting, she felt his every move on her sensitive tongue.

Ok, she could deal, but then came kiss number two. Since when did searching for a key consist of a French kiss? And sucking his finger? The goose bumps on her arms were telling her thoughts to not even go there. But who was she kidding? She might not know the guys name, but he was a first class, blue ribbon kisser, she admitted to herself as she picked up the key she had surreptitiously spit out onto the floor board at the beginning of the struggle. Checking that he had his eyes peeled to the road, she tucked it into her boot for safekeeping.

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Chapter 4 – The Kiss

The ringing of a phone broke the silence. Spike grabbed her hand as she started to reach under her seat. "All this time you could have called someone to come get you, and my torment would have been over?"

Buffy gave him a 'what's-your-problem' look. "Geez, would you chill?"

"Let me think about it...NO!" Spike was gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were white. He would let go but he had to hold on to keep from strangling her.

"Besides, I don't give it out so it's probably a wrong number." Buffy smiled as she pushed the send button. Something about making him upset made her smile. "Hello?"

"Buffy?"

"Angel?" The squeaking of her voice gave away her surprise and apprehension.

"Enjoying yourself?" At first his voice was playful but quickly turned to all business, and Buffy was currently business. "This prank has gone far enough."

After recovering from her surprise, Buffy matched his seriousness with every consonant and vowel. "This is NOT a prank."

"Really now." Angel had always done sarcasm well.

"And, Angel, this doesn't have anything to do with you."

"Ok then, how about Spike, the vampire who is with you?" Angel still couldn't believe it. "A vampire, Buffy. Not a kitten you found running around lost. A vampire."

"Spike? Spike who? Besides what kind of name is Spike? I don't think anyone would name their cat Spike." Buffy stuck her tongue out at the blonde next to her.

"Your kidnapper. Remember him? And potentially your murderer." Buffy could hear his disgusted sigh. Angel may be a vampire, but he was the only one of his kind that he found acceptable. And Buffy suspected that he didn't even like himself at times. "Buffy, where are you? Tell me, and I'll come get you."

"No, just butt out, Angel." She hung up before Angel could say another word, and turned off the power to the phone. She turned in her seat to look at the driver. "Spike? Your name is Spike?"

"Shut your gob."

"What's a gob?" She just had to smile at him again because he looked so frustrated.

"Grrrhh...just shut up." Spike's thoughts were flying. There had to be other satisfying ways to kill her besides strangling her.

Shut up equaled silence, but Buffy was only able to keep quiet for a few seconds. "You're hair isn't even spiked."

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They were thirteen miles down the road when they finally found a small, old-fashioned motel, the type straight out of the fifties. Spike went to check in, and even though he took a detour to the liquor store next door before returning to the car, he wasn't happy when he came back. There had only been one room available. He was going to have to share a room with the gigantically mouthed strumpet.

At the car, he sat two six packs on the concrete to go with the bottle of Jack Daniels he already had up front, opened his trunk and grabbed the crow bar. Walking up to the passenger side of the car, he opened the door. He dreaded damaging his car and cringed in resignation.

For once silent, Buffy watched him position the crowbar, and she actually felt guilty. Even she would never admit it to him, the car was gorgeous, to die for. She had no doubt why he had stolen it.

Before making the first attempt to detach her from his precious corvette, Spike looked in her face and noticed she was starting to squirm. "Buffy...do you have the sodding key to the cuffs?"

A cute, impish smile grew on her face. "Always look in the boots."

No matter how cute she looked at that moment, he fought thinking anything nice about her. Spike just rolled his eyes when what he really wanted to do was hit her against the side of her head. "Get the bloody hell out of my car, and get your arse to room number five."

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Buffy looked around the room and then back at him in question.

"Bad news, goldilocks. They only had one room vacant." Spike put his satchel of money on the bed closest to the door. "Look, this is the deal. I paid for the room for two nights. The sun is rising in about twenty minutes so I can't take the chance driving somewhere else. So, I will be in the room during today but will leave as soon as night falls. Then you have the rest of the night and the next day. Stay as long as you want. That's the deal, chicky."

Turning in a circle, looking at the room, Buffy asked, "But how can I trust you to not kill me in my sleep?"

Spike quirked an eyebrow at her. "How do I know you won't stake me?"

"Well, I'm not any good as a slayer." Buffy chewed her lower lip.

"Hellion, I haven't even made a pass at you let alone tried to bite you." Spike picked up one of the two six packs of beer and handed it to her. He picked up a bottle of whiskey for himself, opened it and his first taste was a gulp. He looked at her again and gave a smirk that she hated to admit was adorable. "Well, wannabe slayer, we are just going to have to trust each other. Here, we'll shake on it." When they touched, they felt something, like touching each other came easy. A touch so natural that they held hands longer than they should have.

While still holding hands with her, Spike asked the question he felt compelled to ask. "Why did you stage your kidnapping?"

Buffy quirked an eyebrow. "Why are you called Spike?"

He dropped her hand and sat back down on the bed. For some reason, he didn't want this girl to know that part of his past. She was a slayer-in-training. They must know what vampires do, but for some reason, he just didn't want her associating the carnage in his first years as a vampire to who he was now. Subject change was called for. He spotted the beer and asked, "How old are you?" "Eleven."

Spike let out a long, suffering sigh. "Whatever."

Buffy started to tell him that she was eighteen, but stopped. She didn't think he gave a damn that she was underage for drinking, but if he wouldn't at least tell her his real name, why should she tell him her age. He might even treat her like a baby or something. That she couldn't and wouldn't stand for.

Both still unnerved by the touch they had shared as well as the questions asked, they both lay on their respective beds, drinking beer and watching a basketball game, one of the only choices they found on TV.

With four beers under her belt, Buffy grew bold, and unfortunately playful. Unfortunately playful with a vampire in the room. Watching her slowly get drunk, Spike actually found her babbling brook of narration of the basketball game humorous and surprisingly interesting. Wait a soddin' minute, maybe he was the drunk one instead of her if he was enjoying her company.

With one of her empty bottles, she grabbed his arm and pulled him off of his bed and into an open area. "Ok, let's have some fun." She pushed him down so that he was sitting crossed legged on the floor and then sat opposite of him. Next she put the bottle on its side between them. "Do vampires play spin the bottle?"

"Play what?" He had no idea what she was talking about. What good was an empty beer bottle, anyway? It was...well, it was empty.

"Spin the bottle. You spin the bottle and then you have to kiss whoever it is pointing to when it stops. I can't believe you've never played. I mean, you're like ancient, aren't you?"

"Yes, luv, I'm old but raised in the Victorian times, which was the epitome of the sexually repressed."

"Epita what?" Just the word made her head spin. "Never mind. Do you want to try it?"

Oh, no, Spike, ole boy. Now you're playing with fire tonight. Slayer fire, no less. But his brain must have already soaked up too much whiskey and beer because he thought he heard someone say, "Sure, let's give it a go." Oh, balls, it was him.

Buffy eagerly put the bottle in motion. It wasn't until then with the bottle spinning around and around that the two drunks realized that there was only the two of them and that meant that the person spinning had two outcome options. If the bottle pointed at the spinner, the spinner has to kiss himself, on the arm or something. The other option was the bottle pointing at the person opposite from the spinner. So the chance of Buffy and Spike kissing was fifty/fifty. Pretty good odds, but noooo, neither cared about the risk of the intimate contact. Not one fig.

When the bottle came to rest, pointing straight at Spike, Buffy's brain tried to think. Finally she went with a very conservative approach. Leaning over the bottle, she gave him a peck on the cheek. Her lips tingled after just touching his cool skin, causing her to giggle.

Spike's cheek was warm where she had kissed him, and her giggle made him smile. To Spike's disappointment, the heat was already leaving. He spun the bottle, and it pointed at him. Spike felt like giggling himself due to the alcohol and the absurdity of the situation. "Where shall I kiss myself, madam game master?"

Buffy clearly pretended to consider the question. "I think you should kiss the pinky finger on your right hand." As she spoke, she was laughing so hard she barely got out, "right hand."

On Buffy's turn again, she spun the bottle, and again it pointed at Spike. "Well, even though you were searching my mouth at the time, we have kissed before, haven't we?" She nervously laughed as she leaned in and gave Spike a chaste kiss on his lips. When she pulled back, she again giggled to cover her reaction to touching him. How could a simple kiss caused tingling all over her body.

On Spike's part, he was beginning to enjoy this 'spin the bottle' lark. The little chit really packed a punch in such simple kisses. What would a more serious kiss be like? He shouldn't, but he wanted to know what other thrills lay in kisses from her. Accordingly, he anticipated his turn at spinning the bottle and sincerely hoped the bloody piece of glass pointed at Buffy.

"Looks like it's my turn on the spin, pet." And he spun, and it came to rest indicating Buffy. Anxious for the intimate contact, Spike reached across and hooked his finger under her chin to pull her lightly towards him. Their lips met. The kiss was still relatively chaste, but the contact was longer, he had his hand touching her, and...and he could feel the tips of her fingers on his cheek. He barely stifled a groan at her touch exploring his face. He broke the kiss before he tried to take it any farther. He pulled back and saw his desire reflected in her eyes.

All giggles were gone. All words were gone. Buffy looked down and quickly spun it before looking back into his blue eyes darkened with desire. She didn't need to look down to see where the bottle ended up. She could tell by Spike's smile; it was like a cat about to lick some sweet cream, and right now, she certainly wanted to be that cream.

Spike took the initiative and reached across, wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and then slowly drew her towards him, giving her time to back out if she wanted to. But he could tell; she didn't want to.

Buffy could feel the cool skin of his hand on her neck and goosebumps raised on her arms, not because of the coolness, but because it was his touch. Their lips met, cold and fire. He had already wasted time with the three previous kisses. Spike didn't waste any time on this one. He parted his lips and ran the tip of his tongue along her top lip and then across her bottom one. Then he followed the crack between her two lips, enticing her to open her mouth for him. He ran his tongue back again, pressing harder this time.

Buffy would have been more than happy to open her mouth for him if she hadn't been so frozen. When the tip of his tongue touched her lip the first time, she lost all ability to think or move. All she could do was feel, feel him touching her. Finally, her brain told her lips, 'Hey, ready for more here.' She came out of her stupor, opening her lips so fast that it startled Spike. She quickly sent her tongue to meet his and sighed with pleasure.

Spike was taken aback. He had never had a woman sigh into his mouth at just the first touch of their tongues. Usually by the time their tongues met, clothes were beginning to fly across the room. Things usually moved fast with him and women, but not with this girl. Taking his time paid off ten fold. With his hand he urged her to tilt her head so that he could deepen the kiss, but still keeping it under control.

Buffy suddenly pulled back and just looked at him until he started to squirm under her scrutiny. Again her brain had to tell her mouth what to do. 'Coma girl, say something.' "That was...that was great." Her voice came out husky, adding sincerity to her words.

Spike smiled, which she returned. Quickly taking his turn, Spike spun the bottle. Before it ever stopped, Buffy grabbed it and pointed it at herself. Smiling a sly smile, she crossed the space between them to kiss him.

One second he was spinning a beer bottle, and the next Buffy was in his lap, kissing him. He wasted no time. This kiss was very different from the others. The others were chaste and gentle. This kiss blew the others away. Buffy was devouring him with her tongue, delving far into his mouth, and he soon followed her lead. As natural as breathing, at least for her, their arms came up and wrapped around each other, holding each other tightly.

When she finally did have to take a breath, she sat there and panted, smiling at how he was needlessly panting also. Then reality reared its ugly head. She realized that she was sitting in a vampire's lap, specifically sitting on his very large erection. She gracelessly, almost falling on her face, jumped up off him and moved to her side of the room. "I'm...er...I'm sorry about that. I don't know what got into me." Yes, she did. He was a gorgeous hunk of male that really knew how to kiss and push all her right buttons. It just wasn't fair that the hunk was a vampire. "I'm just going to lie down and try to go to sleep now."

Spike's first reaction was to jerk Buffy back down into his lap, but then he started thinking rationally again. This was a slayer-in-training. He had been making out with a girl that one day would be trying to kill him. But to tell the truth, he didn't regret any of those kisses. Not for one second. But he was thankful that she had gotten up because he had already been thinking about taking her right there on the floor. Even if he ever had sex with her, which wasn't going to happen, she didn't deserve the carpet of a shabby motel. He wanted to kick her in the arse at times, but she still didn't deserve a floor. So when she called it quits, he put up no complaints, but he did practically limp over to his bed due to his painful hard on. "I need another drink."

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Actually, Spike was the one who fell asleep first. Or rather, that is as soon as the pain below his waist subsided. He hadn't even dared look at her. Buffy was close to slumber, but when she noticed he was asleep on his side, facing her, she took advantage of the opportunity. For some reason, in general Spike reminded her of Angel, and not just the vampire part. Well, duh to that. No, Spike actually saw her, Buffy, not just another slayer-in-training, not just another girl.

She looked her fill. She already knew he had stunning cobalt eyes, and that she would have never imagined a man so sexy in white blond hair. That only took her first look in his garage to know. His cheek bones were show stoppers, but it was his lips. His lips were sinfully delicious. The man should be a model, not a car thief, and she would have to be blind to not notice. Buffy fell asleep picturing just how he would look on film, or better yet, look in bed. Oh, bad Buffy.

Spike's whole body was an alarm clock at dusk. Wakey, wakey. He could tell by his splitting headache that he had a good and proper hangover. So he opened one eye slowly to see his surroundings since one never knew where one would wake up after a good binge. Then he saw her. The golden beauty with the vicious and delicious mouth. With both eyes open, he could look at her without her mouth getting in the way. Her eyes that he knew to be hazel, her pert nose, and her lips...lips that had sent his world reeling. When he stood up, he stepped over to her bed and leaned down. He wasn't quite sure what he was going to do until he reached down and twirled a strand of her blonde hair around his finger. It was hard letting the silky strands go. But he did. She was a huge complication with a capital "C," he reminded himself. A complication he couldn't afford. Literally and figuratively.

Afford. With that thought in mind, he left a couple of hundreds out of the bag of money so she had money to eat and get back to the academy. He walked over to where her backpack was lying and laid the bills next to it. The backpack was open, and surprising himself, he took a souvenir. Her perfume would remind him of the spit fire that made his world spin. After looking at her one last time, he threw his duster over his arm, picked up the bag with the money, and left.

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Chapter 5 - The Angel

"Spike...Spike!"

Spike could hear someone calling him, but much needed sleep muffled his hearing even more.

"Spike!"

Ok, the slapping against the side of his head was hard to ignore. Slapping? Hey, now!! Spike cracked his eyes open to look into the face of a large, brunette man dressed in all black hovering over him.

"Hello." The voice was deep and well modulated. "I presume you are Spike."

All Spike could muster was a grunt in agreement. Review. He knew that at dusk, he had reluctantly left the Starlight Motel and driven to his house nearby. He knew that once there, he had called Xander and arranged a rendezvous later that night at the Lost Pines Lodge, and he knew that he had set an alarm clock for midnight and went to sleep for a bit. God, he hated that alarm clock, but this new bugger of a visitor was a far site worse.

The man ?no, Spike thought, this was a vampire? moved around the sofa to make himself at home in one of Spike's chairs. "You might be wondering who I am."

"Might?" Spike swung his legs and sat up on the sofa he had been sleeping on. "That would be the bleeding understatement of the century, mate."

"I'm Angel." He moved around, testing the feel of the chair, and finally spoke again after he had given the chair his approval. "Think of me as Buffy's guardian angel."

"I'll think of you as a sodding bastard who broke into my house. Besides I didn't know angels frowned so much." Angel. He had heard a little about this vampire that helped slayers from Buffy, and he added that information to a lot of rumors in the demon world to know that he was fucked. "Oh, bullocks. Let's just get this straight. I didn't kidnap Buffy or molest her." But he couldn't deny the wet dream about Buffy that this Angel just interrupted, but no way he'd cop to that wrap. That would just be between him and his pecker.

Angel slowly shook his head. "Now that's something I don't know but will find out."

"Just ask her, and feel free to not say hello from me." Well, wasn't that eloquent, Lord Byron!

"You can count on me asking Buffy many things about your time together when I finally see her." The brunette vampire stared at him for a moment, not blinking, before abruptly standing up, picking up Spike's bag of money along with him.

Now Spike was truly nervous. "Look, mate, I will make it easy for you. I'll tell you where she is, and you can go collect her. She spent last night at the Starlight Motel about twenty miles east of here, and she was going to spend the day there, also." Spike brushed his hands against each other. "Glad we got that settled. Now, leave my bag and bugger off."

"No, you are going to come with me to find her." He walked over to the front door and put his hand on the knob. "The bag comes as insurance of your cooperation."

If he had to admit it, one half of Spike ?the top half- had been happy to be done with the whole kidnapping fiasco. The other half where his privates resided looked forward to seeing the blonde beauty again. Accordingly, he refused to acknowledge the feelings he was having above his waist in anticipation of seeing the girl. Must be why they are called nuts because the person must be nuts to want to see that girl called 'trouble' again.

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Spike was sitting in Angel's car, fuming. The car should be filling up with smoke considering how much was coming out of his ears. The only saving grace was that that the motel was close to his house. Spike thanked the heavens for that, but then turned around and cursed them because of the wanker sitting next to him. It was like he was made of dark granite. Angel asked the directions and then turned to stone with his arms and hands the only moving parts, which were of course used to drive. And Angel talked even less. To be exact, he didn't talk at all. For a person as vocal as Spike, this guy was giving him the creeps, leaving Spike seriously considering talking to the ash tray or head rest soon.

With his hand resting on the door, he thumped his thumb until he couldn't stand the silence or the sound he was making anymore. "Look, I've cooperated. I told you where Buffy is. Just give me my bag out of the trunk, and I can go my merry ole way. I'll even happily walk back to my house."

Angel quickly glanced at Spike. "I like my plan better. You get your bag of money just before Buffy drives off with me."

"What if she won't go?" Spike thought about that she-devil and laughed at the thought of Angel trying to get her to do something she didn't want to do.

Angel was smug. He knew Buffy could be a handful, but he was the authority figure here, and she would do as he said. "Oh, she'll go."

Spike smirked. Ok, this was getting better and better. "This is Buffy we are talking about, ya know, don't ya? A petite blonde, impulsive, very unpredictable, and strong willed?"

The granite cracked just enough to allow a hint of a smile on Angel's face. "That was a fair assessment of her. However, this time, she has caused a great deal of trouble. The ransom was retrieved, but the police are now involved since they think you kidnapped her. That's a problem, a messy problem considering we try to keep the slayers academy off the radar. Thus enter me and my job, bringing her back and cleaning up any mess her stunt caused."

"Hey, there's her motel. Turn in here." Giddy with relief, Spike pointed out the direction. At the moment, he didn't care if Buffy's mess was toxic waste; he wanted his money back.

The first place they checked was the room, but Buffy had surprisingly checked out. Then they walked over to the diner next door and found her sitting in a booth looking out a large window. When Angel sat down opposite her, Spike didn't follow suit. Unable to contain his nervous energy, he stayed standing by the counter, content to watch for the moment.

To tell the truth, Angel was more than a little relieved to see her safe, but didn't want to show it under the circumstances.

"Buffy."

"Angel." She never took her eyes off the scene outside the window.
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Spike couldn't hear what they were saying due to the noise in the diner, but he could tell that Buffy was doing what she did best, being obstinate. And judging by the tick in the muscles of his jaw, Angel was doing a good job of being aggravated. Well, wasn't like he didn't warn the brooding ponce. Now looking at the pair together made Spike wonder. They made a striking couple, making him wonder if there wasn't something more than slayer/vampire between them. That little bit of jealousy that he just felt got kicked to the curb. What the hell was he thinking? He had to get away from Buffy before he was spouting sonnets or some such rubbish.

"Look mate," Spike gained Angel's attention. "I don't want to interrupt, but I fulfilled my end of the bloody bargain. If you will give me my bag, I will get out of your hair." 'That stands on end.' Spike added to himself.

"No. I won't open the trunk to get your bag until she is in the passenger seat. Now go back over to the counter and wait." Dismissing Spike out of hand, Angel turned back to Buffy. "Buffy, you must come back now."

"Must? MUST? I don't 'must' do anything. In fact, I don't even have to be a slayer. Hell, I don't even have the skills anyway."

Angel counted to five before continuing. "Regardless of your faulty logic, you will eventually be a slayer, and you must come back now. We have a mess to clean up with the police."

"Really." Buffy's voice dripped sarcasm. "I just saw a newscast about it."

"So you can see why. We will need blondie over there to provide us a scapegoat."

That got the biggest reaction out of Buffy so far. "Oh no, you don't! He didn't kidnap me."

"Not the point." Angel shrugged a shoulder. "Which is...that he will help cover up the slayers academy."

"But...but he would dust in their custody."

"That's the police's little mystery to solve after we give him over. When he burns to a crisp in the sunlight, the officers in charge will just be accused of taking PCP that day. Who cares what is said as long as we are through with the police?"

"You can't. No way...you can't do that." Buffy floundered for more reasons to save Spike. Why, she didn't know, but she did know that she had to save him.

"I can, and I will."

Buffy thought for a minute, and in typical rash fashion, she took the knife and fork, made a cross and held it against Angel's skin, burning it into Angle's hand. "Look," she yelled so that the whole diner would hear her, "he's a vampire. Help me."

Angel was taken so off guard at the pain and mad at Buffy that he accidentally slipped into his demon visage. As a result, he had a whole restaurant focused on him. And they started catching on.

"A vampire. We need a stake."

"Here, I'm eating a stake." A guy in the back yelled.

"No, stupid. A wooden stake."

Smash. Someone broke their chair and voila, four stakes.

Buffy turned, grabbed hold of Spike, and tried to run for the door.

Spike immediately balked. They didn't know he was a vamp, and he had to have that bag. "Hey, there, I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Yes, you are." Buffy kept pulling, and contrary to his words, she was glad he was complying, reluctantly, but he was.

"You can bet your sweet arse that I'm not. Your mate over there has my money, and I bloody well want it back."

She jerked him so hard that he fell, and she dragged him a few yards on the smooth floor of the diner until he could get to his feet again. Pulling hard, he freed himself from her grasp. "Okay, I'll go to his car but...I. Am. Not. Going. Anywhere. With. You."

"You have to..."

"I don't have to do anything but get my bleeding money back from your overgrown boyfriend in there."

Buffy was horrified that he would say that. For some reason, she couldn't stand the thought Spike being confused that way. "He's not my boyfriend. I don't have..."

They could here glass shatter behind them, and could see Angel come flying out of a window. After brushing himself off, he started walking towards them.

"You've got to come with me..." Buffy started tugging on Spike's hand again.

"Are you deaf, you dozy chit? No!!"

"Look, density boy, he is going to make you the scapegoat of all of this." She started pulling him again.

Now she had his full attention. "A scapegoat?!"

Keeping her eye on Angel, Buffy kept tugging. "Yes, already. Come on."

Spike had been headed for Angel's trunk where his bag was sitting when his dilemma was fully illuminated, but then he grabbed her hand and started pulling her along at a run. Luckily, Angel was overconfident and doing his granite imitation again and was only walking.

At first, Angel didn't believe that Buffy would run away from him, but when her actions proved that his belief was ill-founded, he gave more serious chase. He found himself facing a railroad track with a train in the distance. His stone facade crumbled.

"Damnit, Buffy..." Angel didn't need his sense of smell to track them any further. The train must have been a timely getaway for Buffy and Spike, and they were now traveling away at a good pace. The pair were together and on the loose again. Absolutely not a good combination.

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Angel's conclusion was spot on. They had spotted the train and picked up the pace. Being a vampire had come in handy, enabling Spike to get to the back of the train and jump on. When the end of the train passed Buffy, Spike pulled her up. While still airborne, he brought Buffy forward so that she latched onto a metal ladder with Spike behind her. Instead of moving to give her room, Spike wrapped his body around hers protectively, and that was how they rode. Neither complaining, but neither willing to admit how much comfort they derived from the other.

Knowing that Angel would follow the train, the fugitive pair quickly jumped back off the train while it was still moving near a twenty-four hour operational manufacturing plant. Spike took her with him in the jump and absorbed the brunt of the fall for her. Buffy smiled to herself. His gentlemanly gesture didn't go unnoticed.

Next they lost themselves in the employee parking lot. Convenient place for a car thief. Spike and Buffy crouched down beside a royal blue, Ford truck. "Ok, pet, I'm going to jump start that green Taurus over there. Knock on the side of this truck if you see anyone coming."

Once Spike was in the Taurus, Buffy got bored waiting. No shock there. She looked around and then in the truck. Idiot owner, but she was looking at a gift from above. She ran over to the Taurus.

"Spike..." She cringed when his head flew up from where he was lying and smashed into the steering wheel. "Ow, sorry for scaring you. I bet hitting your head like that hurt." Buffy tried to hide her grin under Spike's glare. "The keys of the truck we were standing next to are in it. I'll go get it. Jump in when I drive by."

"Amateur one, car thief zero." Spike said to himself as he jumped into the truck.

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"Watch the road!" Spike's eyes were wide watching the head lights approaching them, coming straight on.

"I am."

With teeth gritted, the vampire tried not to throw her out of the window. At least it was different than strangling, which was still an option. "If you were, the people coming our way would not be swerving away, would they, pet?"

"I bet the police stop us." Buffy looked back over her shoulder.

Spike shrugged a shoulder. "Just drive like you own the car."

She rolled her eyes. "But I don't. Geez."

"Grrrrrhhh." Spike watched her instead of the road for a minute. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"What?" That, Buffy wasn't expecting.

Spike looked her up and down again, and liked what he saw. "You heard me."

"No."

"Why not? I mean, a pretty girl like you, or is it because you will be a slayer?"

Buffy's head snapped around to look at him, trying to assess his expression. "You think I'm pretty?"

"Watch the road!" Now he was approaching the throw-her-out-the-window idea again. "Yeah, you're pretty, especially without all that make-up you had on before. Haven't you looked in the mirror?"

"Back at you on the make-up comment, bud." Buffy cherished the compliment for a moment; someone thought she was pretty au natural. "Yes, we can have boyfriends, but it is frowned on since we can't tell them about the slayer stuff. Besides, I just never found anyone it would be worth the major league hassle. How about you?" She had thought about asking before so this opportunity was too good to be true.

"Nope. I'm not into blokes."

"Ha, ha, ha. You know I meant girls. Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No." His voice put a large period at the end of the simple word.

Buffy was looking at this hottie and couldn't believe her ears. "Why not?"

His answer was simple. "There is always such potential for failure."

"Failure...potential...what?" Again...hottie...lots of girls...must have relationships, one or two successful, surely.

Spike thought about it for a minute with a far away look in his eyes. There had been attempts over the last century, but all ended the same. "I hate failure."

"Pathetic Much?" Buffy flashed him a bright smile in the dark truck. "So Mr. Mathematician, what is the percentage of failure?"

He couldn't completely cover up his own smile now. "Exactly ninety-eight point eight percent failure."

"Then, professor, there is one point two percent success." Theatrically pensive for a moment, she finally told him, "It would be worth it."

Shocked by her ability to put a better shine on a normally depressing topic, he couldn't look at her when he answered, so he looked out of the window. "Yes, it would."

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Chapter 6 – The Questions

Buffy parked the truck at the back of the parking lot of the Lost Pines Lodge. Spike couldn't have been happier. Not because she parked so far back to make them as inconspicuous as possible, but because she had finally stopped driving? which had turned out to be out and out scary. The bint may be beautiful, but she couldn't drive worth a farthing.

Once inside, they headed toward the lounge which was connected to a louder bar. Both areas were rather busy this time of night.

Xander was already talking before Buffy and Spike could sit down at his table. "I thought you were getting rid of her."

Holding his hands wide with palms up, Spike tried to appease his friend. "Well, mate, the story is kinda funny..."

Xander started jabbing a finger in Buffy's direction. "I thought you were getting rid of her."

"I know but..." Not comfortable with Xander's hostility towards Buffy, Spike pushed Xander's finger away from her.

Before Xander could speak the same sentence yet again, a waitress interrupted. "Can I get you two anything to drink?" She indicated Spike and Buffy since Xander already had one. Actually, he needed a double.

With no hesitation, Buffy answered. "I'll take a Jack and coke."

"Can I see your ID, please?" The waitress smiled, trying to cover up her embarrassment in having to ask the question, but the girl did look underage.

'You and me both,' Spike said under his breath. "I'll take the Jack Daniels, and she'll have the coke." He told the perky girl.

When the waitress walked away, Spike turned the tables and stuck his finger in Xander's face before he could utter a word. "Don't say it! She's still with me, mate. Deal."

"Ok, ok." Xander agreed but wanted to say the observation again so bad. "But did you check out the news?"

"Yeah..." Frustrated with his friend's doom and gloom, Spike looked down at the table and shook his head. It wasn't like he didn't already know that their circumstances were a cocked up mess. He had hoped Xander would talk about solutions instead of bitching. Silly him for being so optimistic, Spike thought.

"See the water front garage burning down?"

"Yes, Xander, I saw it."

"And?"

"And what?" He didn't know why he asked. He knew Xander was going to tell him anyway.

And Xander promptly did. "They think we stole their money."

Buffy had thought the whole conversation up until the last sentence had been a throw away, but now she was interested since it sounded more ominous for Spike. "Who is 'they,' and why would they think that?"

"Well, luv, 'they' are the blokes that were buying the cars that are now crispy critters, and they gave the money to Xander up front, who gave it to me. And being paranoid as criminals tend to be, they now think we concocted a scheme to make off with their blunt, which is beyond idiotic because there was more value in the cars in the garage that burned than the two hundred thousands dollars. Daft wankers the lot of them."

Buffy barely heard anything after 'luv' because he hadn't called her that since the motel. Luv! It certainly wasn't the first time he had called her 'luv', but for some reason, when he had said it just now, it made her brain check out. Her thoughts returned to the kisses they had shared at the Starlight Motel, especially the last one, the dangerous one. That one had made her tingle all over and want to do nasty things to and with him. But regardless of her lusty, romantic thoughts, she did hear Xander.

Xander could barely stay in his seat. "In a little squirrel's nutshell, give me the money so I can return it."

"I don't have it." Spike fessed up and was now waiting for the explosion. Not surprisingly, Xander was so good at those.

"What?" Buffy had to admire the shade of red that Xander's face was turning.

"Her...er...uncle has the money, but she is going to help get it back."

"WHAT!!!" Oh, pretty, now Xander was purple.

After just a few more repeated 'what's' and no more new different shades of colors, Buffy was bored and that meant she was antsy. That's when she spotted the dance floor and several people line dancing. That had possibilities.

The waitress sat the two drinks in front of Buffy and Spike while Xander sarcastically thanked the waitress. "Thank you. Thank you sooo much." He dropped a credit card on the table to pay the tab.

As she was standing up, Buffy snatched up Spike's whiskey and downed it in one go. When she set the glass back down on the table, Buffy put her hand on Spike's shoulder. "Relax, Xander. I'll get you your money. Now, boys, while you work the details out, I'm going to play a little."

Spike wanted to grab her hand and hold it on his shoulder, letting the warm and pleasant tingle from her heat spread through his whole body. He also wanted to just plain hold onto her, keeping her in sight, making sure she would be there instead of leaving in the truck. When had he become insecure about something? Anything? He knew. Since Angel showed up to take her away. It had been different for him, easier to leave her at the motel. His subconscious had known that he could have gone back to the motel, and she would have still been there. Whether that was true or not, he liked to believe it. But seeing her again had shifted something, knocked something loose in his world-weary feelings. It wasn't love. No. At least he wasn't admitting that yet. It was just something warm. Nevertheless, he let her hand go and hoped for the best. He was somewhat comforted when she patted his shoulder before leaving. 'Oh, yeah, you're not whipped,' Spike thought sarcastically while rolling his eyes before looking at his friend. Xander's mouth was still moving.

"Well, let's get rid of her now. Let's get out of here. We can take my car."

"No!" Spike didn't even want to let her out of arms reach, let alone leave her. No way he could do that now. He realized that there was no way he was walking away from this girl.

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Slyly looking through her lashes while she was dancing, Buffy knew she had Spike's attention. Every once in awhile he would look at Xander, but mostly his eyes were on her. She wasn't sure what to do about him. Actually that was somewhat incorrect. She knew what she wanted to do, but wasn't sure she could have it. She wanted to be with Spike. On the carnal side of that thought, she wanted to drag him out on the dance floor with her and grind up against him for an hour or two. On the more philosophical side, she wanted to "be with him" in the long run. Problem...No, problems were that she was a slayer and he was a vampire, he didn't do commitments, and to tell the truth, neither did she. And last, he just plain might not be interested in her that way. Well, she doubted that last one considering the erection she was sitting on last night when they were kissing, and she was in his lap.

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The details for how to get out of their present mess, never happened. Xander kept trying, but except for every tenth word, Spike wasn't listening. The other nine words, Spike's attention was on the golden light, the beacon, on the dance floor. What was he thinking even considering holding such a woman like that in his arms? Kissing her, feeling her, being with her and more? She was a glorious slayer (well, not 'a glorious' one yet, but he had no doubt that she would be) and the only part of her slayer life for a vampire was as prey.

Another minor issue, to put a fine point on it, was that he was dead. Dead as a door nail, stiff as a board, pushing up the bloody daisies, and six feet under her feet. She was of the living. As he watched her on the dance floor, she was so full of life. Maybe she had life enough for the both of them, but was there enough life to animate his body and make him worthy of her? As much as he would like to forget, he still had years of killing and blood on his hands. But then he looked at her again and their massive differences shared a couple double scotchs and forgot their great divide. They sang their own composition of 'they are meant to be together'. And 'together' was coming, Spike thought as he watched Buffy finish another song, laughing and smiling as she stepped off the dance floor, heading back to their table.

As she finished up dancing, Buffy could see a man approaching her. She knew his purpose without being told. They talked for a moment, long enough to see Spike stand up and take a step towards them, and then she politely refused his offer to dance. She wanted to thank the guy for getting such a positive response out of the vampire she was now trying to attract. When she started back for the table, she smiled an 'I thought so' smile, and as she passed Spike, she rose up and kissed him on the mouth.

Spike had stood up when the wanker stopped Buffy from returning to the table. All that was holding him back was wondering what Buffy would do if he threw the bugger across the dance floor like he was a bowling ball, knocking human and demon pins over as the tosser went on his way. But then she was moving towards him and all was right with the world again. Next she unexpectedly kissed him. He ever so briefly felt the tip of her tongue touch where his two lips met, enough to let him know that the intent of the kiss was not platonic, but intimate. After shaking his shock off, he reached for her hand to drag her back, but she was still on the move.

Stopping at the table, Buffy drank Spike's new drink and snatched up Xander's credit card. "I'm going to go get some toothpaste to freshen up and see about a room. Then make a phone call to Giles to get your money back." Buffy left Xander squawking.

Once up at the desk, Buffy didn't use Xander's credit card. She just liked pulling his seemingly short chain, which appeared to be awfully easy to do. Instead she paid for one of the larger rooms for two nights with the money Spike had left her in the motel, no doubt from the notorious bag. Who would miss that small amount versus two hundred thousand dollars anyway?

Once done, she dropped one of the two room key cards into Spike's shirt pocket, her hand enjoying the journey in and then out, and after that Buffy tossed Xander's credit card in his general direction.

"I'm off to make that call." Taking her back pack that had the remains of the Jack Daniels in it, she went up to the room. She started to mix herself a drink for courage but decided against it. Instead, she took out her cell phone and called Giles.

"Buffy, my dear, enough is enough. Come home."

"It's not home. It's a dorm. Homes are somewhere you want to be."

"I don't understand. We provide for your every need." To his credit, Giles genuinely didn't comprehend what she meant.

"No, I don't think you understand." Buffy wiped away a tear that had escaped down her cheek.

Buffy couldn't believe that fate chose that moment for Spike to come into the room. She swiped at the rest of her tears.

"Just forget it. Anyway, Angel has a bag of money that belongs to my friend....Yes, my vampire friend." Spike turned to face her and was astonished that he and Buffy shared a smile over his nature of being. "He didn't kidnap me, he hasn't bitten me, and he hasn't molested me in anyway."

"Buffy, he is a vampire and that sounds hard to believe..."

"It doesn't matter how it sounds. It's simple. Give him his money back, and I will come back." What Giles didn't notice was that she hadn't promised to go back to the academy. She was an adult now. She could go wherever she wanted after she made an appearance for Giles, and it just might not be the slayer academy.

"Buffy, that sounds like an acceptable deal."

"Ok. Meet us at...uh...the Hollywood sign tomorrow night at midnight....I'll be there...Bye." After disconnecting, Buffy turned to look at Spike who she knew had been watching her, and she gave him a tentative smile before walking around the room aimlessly. "Can I get a drink?"

"Jack and coke again alright?"

"Sure." She paused and watched him out of the corner of her eye. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Depends." Spike was immediately suspicious. With women, this usually foretold a 'do you like/love me' question. Good thing was they hadn't known each other long enough and most of that time was bickering. They didn't even like each other...did they? Wasn't it just lust? Who was he kidding?

She squinted her eyes as if to access him better. "What's your real name?"

"Not going to happen, luv. Pick another question." Spike dismissed the question by turning his back and taking off his red, button-down shirt.

A skin tight, black t-shirt. Buffy had a hard time thinking while looking at him in that t-shirt. She wondered what his abs looked like without the cloth covering them. "Uh...er...ok, what do you want out of your life, or I guess I should say unlife."

"Now, kitten, that was a good question, but I've got to tell a little story first." Spike looked at his glass with interest, especially since it was empty. "Look in the mini-fridge and see if we have any scotch." When she threw one his way, he began at the beginning. He told her about his turning, about how he was different, how he went his own way, and how he became a car thief. The only thing he didn't tell her was about being a bloody awful poet before his turning and how he got his nickname. "Don't get me wrong. I know that stealing cars is wrong. I know. But I am just saving up the money to start a used car dealership. Have something and somewhere permanent for once in my unlife."

Buffy fell out laughing. "Used cars. As in hot used cars? And how is a vampire going to sell cars during the day anyway?"

"Ha, ha, missy. No, I mean used cars that I buy and then resale. Expensive cars for resale. And as for the daylight, I would locate the business in Las Vegas. That town is twenty-four hours. Xander can do day, and I'll do night. See, that money I lost in Angel's trunk was my stake in the dealership." Damn, his glass was empty again. "Hand me another scotch."

"You drank all those already. How about Vodka?"

"Vodka it is then, pet."

She sat up on the double sized bed next to his where he sat. "Ok, so tomorrow I get your money back, give it to you, you give it to Xander, and then it finally goes to the paranoid block heads?"

"Sounds like a plan, luv." Enjoying her enthusiasm, Spike smiled at her across the gap between the two beds.

"What are we going to do next? Are we going to steal more cars..."

"We? What we?" Spike looked at her with wide, blue eyes. Where had that come from?

Buffy wanted to crawl into a hole. "Well, I meant...we... in a general sort of way...not that you would want me...as a we..."

Spike swiftly moved over to sit on her bed. Not close enough to make it sexual, but close enough to be taken with sincerity. "I'm telling you, pet, 'we' is fine. I like the 'we.' I am not making a pass at you or anything. I am telling you flat out that if you want to come with me, help build the money up again and then go to Vegas, you are welcome to." Her bright smile was making him melt that he had to move fast to not become a puddle on the bed. He used the excuse of refreshing the ice in his drink to walk away without offending her feelings with a huge erection. "So little girl, what do you want? Peace, win the lottery...Or to be more specific, why were you in the trunk of that BMW? Why the prank?

"Ok, the 'short, to the point' version. Dad disappeared when I was nine. My mom was a crack head, got arrested, and I went through some foster homes. Then Giles came and got me and said that I'm a slayer. I asked him 'What's a slayer?' So to find out, I go to the camp and train. But, and it's a whopper of a 'but,' my slayer gifts have barely developed. They tell me they will, but it makes me the odd man out. What I need is a place to belong. Not like the academy, but somewhere that I want to be that wants me." Buffy thought for a moment. "Or someone."

The last two words she spoke were spoken in the lowest of whispers and Spike had to use his vampire senses to hear her. Her words were very revealing and so were the tracks of tears down her face that he didn't think she realized were falling. "And the tears?"

"I guess I faked the kidnapping to see if I was wanted." Buffy could feel his piercing blue eyes looking into her soul. "What I found out was that I need a home. The place and the people type home."

Watching her closely, Spike could tell that she was almost at her breaking point and that he didn't want to see. Besides, he was too close to offering to be that someone and providing her that place. And he wasn't ready for that possible heartache when it turned out that she couldn't be with him. Not to mention that he had real trouble with that kind of commitment. It was scary enough that he was even considering it. "Well, enough of share time, more drink time. Do you want gin or tequila?"

After new drinks, Buffy was ready to talk some more. The more they talked, the more that she was drawn to Spike. His movements, his voice, his beauty. "Tell me some stories."

Spike was pleased by her change of subject to one a little less personal. He told her Drusilla stories. His crazy sire provided many good tales, but he chose the least gory ones. There was the time she used vanishing lotion for freckles thinking that she could put it on, become invisible, and then go out in the sun safely. "That was a crazy night trying to keep her from killing herself the next morning. Wasn't like we could make her look in a mirror and show her that she hadn't vanished when she had no reflection to start with. Now my personal favorite was when she tried to turn a frog. She drained it. Slit her finger and dropped blood down its throat. Then she walked around holding the frog for three days, kissing it. Why? She wanted the frog to turn into a prince."

In between laughs, Buffy was able to get out, an "are you kidding?"

"No. I finally had to steal the frog away while she was sleeping to put an end to it." Spike too laughed at the memory. It was one of the only memories he could laugh at from back in that time.

Tilting her head to the side, Buffy looked at him closely and saw a gorgeous man that she couldn't imagine Drusilla ever being stupid enough to let go. "Did you love her?"

That question out of nowhere caught Spike off guard. "I...I did." He could see Drusilla as if she were standing in front of him, standing next to Buffy. Dark next to the light. Both beautiful in their own way. But Spike had left dark behind. Was he now headed towards this light looking at him now? He hoped so, but wouldn't bank on it.

Buffy could read his face, tell his mind was with this past love. And she was surprised at how jealous she was. She had to remind herself of how much she hated commitment; so, she had no right to be jealous. "And?"

"And I couldn't live that life anymore, and the disgust I felt for those vampires around me slowly spread to her. But she will always have a soft spot in my heart." Enough of that subject. "I've got a question for you, Goldie."

Preparing herself for the question, Buffy wiggled around on the bed to find the perfect spot before sitting with her legs crossed. "Shoot."

Standing across the room leaning against the counter of the bar, his intense gaze held hers. "That kiss downstairs. What was that? A thank you? A tease? A what?"

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A/N; Sorry this is so slow is coming. I have been sick for the last week. Anyway, enjoy the spuffy.

Chapter 7 – The Taste

Now that was a great topic, and she took it as a good sign that he was asking about kisses. “No, it was a taste.” Buffy licked her upper lip.

“A taste?” That certainly was not what he expected her to say, he thought as his eyes followed the tip of her tongue. Involuntarily, he mirrored her action while he stepped closer to her on her bed.

She nodded slowly, deliberately. “Yes, Spike, a taste…a taste of you.”

He thought he could recognize a seduction when it was directed at him, but with this special girl, he was trying to avoid keeping his hopes too high. “Well, how did I taste?” Couldn’t hurt to ask, could it?

“Like I want more.” Buffy’s eyes glittered. Oh, how she needed this gorgeous man.

He closed the space between them. Now, Spike knew for sure. Now he could relax and enjoy her advances. “Like you want more?”

Still on the bed, Buffy lifted up on her knees in order to be able to reach his lips and whispered. “More. Definitely more.”

Reaching up, she wrapped her hand around the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss. Her tongue immediately sought his out.

When he pulled back so that she could get some air, her voice was husky. “Now do you want to taste me?”

Spike flashed his fangs for just a second. “Don’t you know, little girl, that it’s not safe to ask a vampire to taste you?” He had to make sure she knew what she was getting into.

She laughed and gave him the brightest of bright smiles. “I think I’ll live in danger.”

Ah, this girl was going to make him or break him. “Kitten, I would like to sample your lips.” Sticking out his tongue, he ran it across her lower lip and along the crack in between. Pulling back to look into her eyes, he knew she felt the coolness of his tongue against the heat of her lips, knew she was reminded that he was a demon instead of human. What he didn’t see was any second guessing about being with him.

She parted her lips in invitation, and he didn’t hesitate. He swooped in with his tongue immediately to hers, savoring.

When he pulled back, he licked his lips. “Uhmmm, you taste like the sweetest of candies.”

“Shut up and sample me again.”

But when they came up for air, he just couldn’t let go of her acceptance of their differences and ramifications yet. With a serious expression, he held her at arm’s length. “Let’s just get this straight, luv. I’m a demon.”

Buffy knew what he was doing. He was making sure that her mind was made up about getting involved with him. She was sure. Without a doubt sure. “I’m a human.”

“I’m a vampire”

“I’m a vampire slayer.”

Spike tilted his head thoughtfully and looked deep into her beautiful, hazel eyes. “Do you care?”

“Not one stake or fang.” Her smile shined in her eyes for him to easily see.

He didn’t know what foolish maggot got into his brain, but he gave her one more out. He shifted into his demon visage. She never batted so much as an eyelash. Instead she reached up to explore and ran her index finger across one of his canines. Having no idea how sharp his fangs were, she nicked her finger, causing a droplet of blood to form. She looked at her finger totally expressionless, and then she looked at him before doing the strangest thing. She began opening her mouth, which his mouth mirrored of its own volition. Then she put her finger in his mouth and swiped the blood across his tongue. She could read his eyes. The only emotion he felt was surprise. Not the desire to make her dinner, just surprise.

“Spike, do you trust me?”

All he could do was nod.

“I trust you. Now kiss me. And more, more, more.” Spike in his human facade smiled as he threaded his finger through her hair and pulled her to him. Their mouths met open with tongue seeking out each other. Spike’s knees threatened to give out from just the kisses.

She broke the kiss only long enough to slip his t-shirt over his head. Then her hands were free to play. They danced and chased across his rippling muscles. She wanted to look her fill but wouldn’t give up his lips. Finally her hands ventured to the waist of his jeans. Making quick work of the belt, those hands unbuttoned his fly and unzipped them, pushing his pants to the floor so that he could step out.

Once naked, Spike changed positions with her. He moved her so that he was sitting on the bed, and she was between his legs. As she had, he made short work of her clothes. With all clothes out of the way, Spike pulled her along with him so that they were both lying on the bed, her on top of him.

She could feel his erection pressing into her thigh, and it fascinated her. She shifted so that he was still on his back, but she was now lying on her side next to him. Never breaking their kiss, Buffy grasped his hard shaft. She stroked once up and down, enjoying the sound of his moan into her mouth, and she found the silky smooth skin beneath her hand captivating. She brushed her thumb once, twice, three times across the head of his shaft, spreading the pre-cum. She listened to him groan in gratification again and again, but this time she watched as he broke their kiss and threw his head back in ecstasy. She stroked again, and she watched the muscles in his jaw work, his pleasure causing her to smile.

Finally taking pity on him, she slid down the bed to sit so that her face was even with his crotch. Her voice was husky. “Just a taste.” Still stroking him with her hand, Buffy flicked her tongue across the head several times, and smiled when the moans were starting to sound painful.

Spike was thankful that he was not still standing up, or he knew that his knees would have buckled for sure when she took the cool head of his member into her mouth and sucked lightly. The rest was a blur of a warm mouth and hands grasping his shaft and cupping his balls. He felt his orgasm build much faster than he would have liked, much sooner than what was “manly,” but what she was doing to him just felt too wonderful. His shaft going in and out of her mouth was heaven.

Buffy smiled the best she could with him in her mouth when she felt his hands fist in her hair? not controlling her, just holding on. There was something just so primal and satisfying about that action. She knew he was about to come, but then felt his hands pull back on her head, giving her the choice of how to finish. With her free hand underneath his buttocks, she pushed him back into her mouth as he exploded.

Watching Spike coming down from his high, Buffy chuckled as his eyes finally focused on her. But then she was very aware of her nakedness and what she had just done. If pressed, she would have to admit that she had very little experience with sex. A one night stand with a jerk named Parker and a relationship with do-it-by-the-book Riley. And oral sex was just a footnote. So to say that she had little experience with oral sex or any sex would be a colossal understatement. On top of that, this was the only time she had really wanted to be as intimate with someone as bringing him to orgasm with her mouth.

Not knowing any of this, Spike opened his mouth and inserted his foot, including his combat boot. “Your mouth should be made a bloody national monument.”

Buffy just blinked a few times as she sat up at the end of the bed. It took a moment for Spike’s words to sink in, but when it did? as her blush flamed? she swiftly turned her back to him. Not knowing what to do, she reached down to the floor and jerked up the first piece of clothing she touched? his black t-shirt? and held it up in front of her for some modesty.

At first, the brutish idiot that he was had no idea why she was covering up. But then when it was clear that she meant to move away, he had a much-needed moment of clarity. A national monument?! Spike wanted to stake himself. Twice. “No…please…” He quickly sat up but kept his distance. “Oh, god, I’m so sorry. My sodding tongue should be cut out. Here, I’ll even get a stake for you with my name on it.” After he could see a few of her muscles relax, he scooted closer. “I’m sorry. I’m not use to girls as… inexperienced as you…” He scooted closer still until about eighteen inches left between them. “…unhardened but tender as you. And that is a compliment, my fair love.” He reached out, halted, then moved again until his fingertips rested on her shoulder blade. He drew a straight line down her back to her waist, and he was thankful that she let him. “Don’t let my bleeding jaded words ruin this for you, for us.” This time he traced his line from her other shoulder blade down, and smiled when he felt her shiver.

This time he ran his hands, feeling her with his palms, up her back. “What you just did was a gift…” His hands traveled down her arms to her bent elbows where she was holding up his shirt. “…of which I so foolishly defamed…” He slid his hands under her forearms to finally cup her hands. “All I can do is ask for your forgiveness.” Holding her hands and ignoring the shirt, he wrapped her arms with his on top just below her breasts. “If I’ve gotten under your skin as much as you’ve gotten under mine, you’ll stay with this stupid vampire tonight.” He nuzzled her neck before whispering in her ear. “Please, luv, say you’ll stay.”

When she nodded, he blew out an unneeded breath. Letting go of her hand and scooting back, he started with one shoulder reigning kisses across her shoulders and neck. “Thank you…thank you…thank you…”

After a moment’s hesitation, Buffy had nodded her head, agreeing to stay. After all, she believed him. He did say that he was from the Victorian era which was…well, long ago. Over those many years, he had to have been with many women. So she forgave him, but with a determination that he had better make it up to her. And judging from what his hands and lips were doing to her body at the moment, she would come out a winner.

Ah, it felt so good wrapped in his arms. His hands rubbed up and down her arms occasionally, but a simple gesture that was…was quite a Band-Aid for her injured feelings, but also who would have thought that a gesture so simple as a stroke down her back could be so erotic. He just held her while his lips and teeth kissed and nibbled along her shoulders, sending little tendrils of lightening throughout her body. Everything he did made Buffy want to purr like a kitten.

With both of them still sitting up, Spike scooted back so that he could trace her spine with the tip of his tongue, ending in her hairline where he nibbled. He knew that he was getting to her by the goose bumps that appeared on her skin. He was behind her on the bed, straddling her, and he slowly moved until he was too close to stroke down her back anymore but switched to her arms. But he was close enough to kiss from the farthest point of her shoulder to the joint where the shoulder and neck come together, and then up to her ear. As he reached around and cupped her breast, he moved forward, closing the gap between them.

She gave a little jump when his hand moved up and cupped her breast, taking her nipple between his index finger and thumb. When her head lolled back and over to the side, providing him with better access to her neck, he was pleased because he was pleasuring her, and she was trusting him to do so. He massaged her breast, rolling and pinching her hard nub, while he bit with blunt teeth on her neck. He was surprised how much his demon desired to bite her tender neck, draw on her succulent blood, but no. He had bit sexual partners before, but this wasn’t such a time. This wouldn’t be casual, so he kept himself under control.

Since Buffy was so wrapped up in what Spike was doing to her breast and neck, she didn’t notice at first the other hand moved down until she felt his fingers playing with her course, pubic hair. She felt his hand slide between her legs, first nudging them farther apart which she gladly complied. Then she felt his middle finger slide across her clit and the entrance to her sex. He rubbed back and forth several times until on one pass, his finger slipped inside of her. Her moan echoed throughout the room. His finger stayed, moving in and out with the heal of his hand rubbing her clit. Soon a second finger joined the first. In and out. In her daze, Buffy finally noticed that Spike was moving in time with his hand, rubbing his hard member on the crack of her ass and lower back. Even outside of her, the sensation felt wonderful. He had turned her whole back into an erogenous zone. She let herself go, feeling his fingers and his shaft moving against and fingers in her. But after a moment, Buffy tried to reign herself in when she felt her orgasm approaching. She had other plans. She pushed back on Spike and wiggled against his hard shaft. He took the hint. After removing his hand from her sex, he grabbed hold of her hips, lifted her and sat her back down so that he was inside of her to the hilt. They froze for a moment, enjoying the first joining of their bodies. She began to move on him, and he moved with her. Then he stopped, stilling her with his hands on her hips.

Buffy was scared. Had she done something wrong? When he lifted her up and off, she knew she had done something wrong. But then he turned around so that they were facing each other. “Luv, I need to see your face our first time.” Buffy’s smile blossomed. She had done nothing wrong and more importantly, he had said ‘our first time,’ implying that there will be others, a second, a third, a fiftieth maybe?

Feeling like a light was shining down on him from her smile, Spike moved her around so that she was lying on the bed. Spike also smiled, but it was the feral smile of a cat that was moving up her body with feline intent to gracefully pounce. He moved up until their lips met and melded. The kiss was deep and long, only stopping for Buffy to come up for air, and then the kiss began again.

When Buffy felt Spike’s shaft nudge her entrance, she lifted up her hips in invitation, and he slid in until their bodies were melded just as their mouths were. Their motion was perfectly matched, slow and leisurely, each savoring every second, every feeling. The kissing only stopped when, with their heads thrown back in ecstasy, they came hard simultaneously. As the pleasure finally ebbed, Spike stayed where he was, still inside of her. With her legs she held him there, content feeling the weight of his body pushing down on her own. Regardless of her hold on him, Spike had no desire to move off of her? move out of her.

Spike was blown away. To be a part of her was to be a part of heaven. Lying there, still inside, he knew with certainty that she was now his. She didn’t know it, but she was. He had been so afraid of commitment over the decades, and now he was scared she wouldn’t accept him on a long term basis. His demon inside was screaming to claim her for all time. That Spike wouldn’t do, but he would do whatever it took to keep her.

With him inside of her, Buffy felt like she had truly come home. Here she had been looking for it in different places, in different people, and all she had to do was have the car where she was hiding in the trunk, stolen. Simple, Buffy thought with a laugh. Not simple at all, but when she had really taken a look at him, felt him, she had seen home. She still didn’t think she could admit it to him yet, but she could to herself. She belonged to him.

And that was the way they fell asleep, both physically and mentally apart of each other.

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A Trunk Full of Trouble

by MadRog

Chapter 8 – The Loving

All Spike wanted to do was look at her. Well, actually, there were a few other things he wanted to do to her, but they were currently in the lodge’s restaurant for a late lunch.

From cloud nine, Buffy was nibbling at her salad. She thought that she needed Giles’ attention, but that wasn’t so. All she needed was Spike’s. The feeling was wonderful, but he didn’t have to know how wonderful yet. “What? You’re making me nervous, staring at me like that.”

After a pause, Spike tilted his head. “Remember when I told you that I had given up on women because I always saw the worst?”

Teasingly, Buffy quoted for him. “’Ninety-eight point eight percent chance of failure.’ Yes, I remember. So give it to me. What is the worst now?”

“In your eyes…” Spike tried to see all the way to her soul. “…in your eyes, I see the future.”

Suddenly, pulling in breath through the fear of his rejection was extremely difficult. ‘Had to ask, didn’t you?’ Buffy chastised herself. She was terrified. Had he already seen failure for them in the future after only one night? “Well? The future. Is it the worst?”

“No, that’s just it. I see the future in your eyes, and it is the best.” He became dizzy gazing at her, and Spike felt bewildered. “Maybe I’m dreaming.”

“Do you want to be dreaming?” Did she want the answer to that question?

“No.” Shaking his head, Spike continued to stare at her. The future. If she was his future, she was a beautiful future for both of them.

To Buffy, cloud nine was feeling pretty good again. He saw the future in her eyes. A future with both of them. Just what she wanted. Someone that wanted her on a permanent basis. To be precise, that was half of the home she dreamed of. The other half was a place to be with that someone, but that could wait. Spike alone made her happy, made her feel wanted.

Noticing that they had both been silent for several moments, Buffy decided to lighten things up. “Do you like my tummy?”

Surprised by her question, Spike gave a snort of laughter. His answer was pseudo-serious. “It’s nice.”

Buffy tilted her head. “Do you like my laugh?”

“Yeah, kitten, I like it when you smile.” Spike was beginning to enjoy her questioning.

“I know you like my car.”

“Well, we’re not mates. We’ve hadn’t really gotten to know each other.”

Buffy tried to hide her laugh, but then she became a little more serious. “Do you like the way I make you feel?”

Spike was having a hard time answering that question because of all it would reveal. He loved how she made him feel, but that was too close to admitting that he loved her. But he would tell the truth. No way would he tell her anything other than the truth. He just hoped she didn’t ask certain other questions. “Yes.”

“Does that mean that you like me?”

He just stared some more. There was one of those questions he wasn’t ready for yet. That question just hit too close to what he suspected to be the truth. He was scared that he already loved this little imp. Spike put a twenty on the table, and with a soft smile on his sculpted lips, he offered Buffy his hand. When she took it, without a word, he silently led her back to the room. He couldn’t tell her his feelings in words, but he could show her. He could make love to her.

Buffy didn’t know what to think. She had asked him if he liked her, and he hadn’t replied other than taking her back to the room. She had been hoping for some type of declaration. But wait, she had gotten one. He had said that he saw the future in her eyes. As long as they were both in it together, the future was a big type of declaration.

Other than that, his thoughts were a mystery to Buffy. To hide her nervousness, she pulled two bottles of water out of the mini-frig and walked to him where he was sitting on one of the two beds. When she offered him one, he grabbed her whole hand instead of just the bottle, which effectively kept her from moving away. He didn’t meet much resistance.

His face was still unreadable, which made her only more nervous.

“Kiss me?” His voice was deep and sexy with a hint of playfulness.

Relieved that he wasn’t upset with her, Buffy smiled. “You didn’t have to ask.” She stepped between his legs, leaving only enough room between their bodies to lower her lips to his. Dropping the bottle, she wrapped her free arm around his neck. The first kiss was soft and short. She pulled back up so that she could look into his eyes. “So you might like me? I might like you.” She teased.

That was all it took. For some reason unknown to her, her words ignited the fire that had been smoldering within him since the discussion of “like” had come up. He put his hand behind her head and pulled her back down. This kiss was nothing like the first. Caution was thrown to the wind. The moment her lips parted, Spike’s tongue moved inside to duel with her own. Buffy moaned as he took over.

Spike let go of the hand he had still been holding, but neither heard the water bottle hit the carpet. With that arm now free, he slid his hand underneath her shirt to explore. Pinching the clasp, her bra opened, and Spike ran his hand up and down, enjoying the freedom? but it wasn’t enough. He slid her shirt up over her head. She followed his motion by slipping his t-shirt off. Their groans mixed when the skin of chest and breast rubbed against each other. Their kiss became more intense. With each hand, he stroked the sides of her breasts, allowing his thumbs to brush against her nipples.

Moving to straddle his lap, she could feel his large erection rubbing against her heat. Or she should admit that she was rubbing and grinding against his hard on. Oh God, she needed him inside of her. With their lips lingering against each other, Buffy stood up, panting. She stood back up again, drawing him with her. She made quick work of getting out of her jeans, as he removed his own. Once they were both naked, she pushed him back down on the edge of the bed and climbed into his lap. She could feel the coolness of his shaft between her legs. After moving around to the best position, she was riding his shaft on the outside of her channel, between the folds of her sex. Now there was some exquisite foreplay, she thought.

Spike was enjoying her ingenuity and was almost coming unglued at the feel of her moist pussy lips gliding up and down, grinding against his cock. Finally, ingenuity be damned. He had to get into her.

They were in unspoken agreement. She had intended to wait? to draw this superb foreplay out longer? but she needed to have him inside her. She wrapped her arms around him and lifted up. She moved, shifted and ground her heat against his erection until she felt the head of his shaft at the opening of her sex. He pulled back so that he could look at her face when he became one with her. To his pleasant surprise, she looked him in the eyes as his cool shaft slid into her. She could feel him stretching and filling her as they melded together, hot to cold. He watched her face as her lips parted in ecstasy. She rode the tides of intense feelings. She rode him, coming down on him again and again so hard that the meeting of their bodies could be heard throughout the room. “Oh, god, yes,” came from the back of Buffy’s throat. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Regretting that he would have to leave her for a moment, growling Spike lifted her up and laid her on her back in the bed. “Oh, luv, your lap dance was driving me wild, but I want, no, I need to make love to you.”

She melted in his arms. ‘Make love.’ She knew it was just an expression, but it still contained the word, “love.” She looked into his eyes and echoed his words. “Make love to me.”

Just the mention of love sent Spike over, reeling. He wanted to be gentle, but his possessive instincts kicked in. His demon’s instincts kicked in. He wanted her hard and fast. He wanted to keep her. His demon wanted to claim her. He found her entrance and shoved himself in to the hilt and was rewarded when he felt her arch her back before forcibly lifting her hips to drive him further home. The pace they set was fast. Their mouths were frantic for each other, dueling, devouring. Their bodies slammed together over and over, each trying to get closer with each drive.

But when Spike felt Buffy’s fingernails claw his back, his demon came forward. He pulled out of the kiss just in time to save her from his fangs. Horrified, he tried to pull his shaft out of her, but she wouldn’t let him. If anything else, she set the pace faster. As their orgasms were approaching, she turned her head to the side, purposefully drawing his attention to her neck. Just the offering of her neck almost made him come. “No, luv, don’t tempt me. I won’t mark you for all the other slayers and watchers to see.”

“Then mark me where they won’t see…my breast.” Buffy could easily read his mind at that moment. He wanted to claim her, make her his, and that was what she wanted also. But he was afraid for her, that the academy would be furious, and afraid that he didn’t have the right. Well, she had the right to give him what they both wanted, and she had the need to give it. Buffy raised her hips up to meet his and when his pelvis clashed with her clit, her fingernails clawed down his back again. And again, she offered herself. “Please, Spike. I trust you. I want this.”

Her fingernails drawing blood this time ensured that the demon was staying in the forefront. He had to have her as his own. When his fangs entered the beginning of the rise of her breast, Buffy came with a shriek, her body bucking over and over. As the warm blood of the woman flowed over his tongue, Spike came also, pumping his seed into as her body was contracting around his shaft.

He quickly withdrew his fangs, and in the aftermath of their joining, he lathed the punctures clean. Buffy continued to hold on tight with both her arms and her legs. She had never felt anything like it before. When his fangs had entered her skin, it was like thousands of fireworks went off all over her body, wishing that they never had to stop. When he had withdrawn his fangs, she had given a little whimper before relaxing and enjoying his ministrations to the wound, feeling one with him.

Spike couldn’t believe what had just happened. He had fed from her, the woman he loved? a bonding. He could admit his love for her to himself now, but still had a problem saying it. But yes, he did love her. Now, it was a matter of finding a way of keeping her. He didn’t doubt that he would. It was just a matter of how. One way was to claim her, and she claim him, making the bond permanent, but it was much too soon for that. He didn’t even know if she loved him, at least not yet.

After switching positions so that she was lying on top, Buffy laid her head over where his heart should be beating. She didn’t want to set herself up for failure, but she had to know. She was sleeping with a vampire so it was important that she know. “So…do you like me?”

She could hear Spike chuckle in his chest. “Yes, kitten, I like you and some.”

“Good.” She kissed his chest. “I like you, too.” Like him, that was all she could admit, but that little bit meant the world to her right now.

Knock, knock, knock. “Room service.”

Spike looked at Buffy, and when she shook her head, he called towards the door, “We didn’t order anything, so bugger off.”

Knock, knock, knock.

Spike slipped into his jeans and padded over to the door barefoot. Jerking the door open, he was growling. “Look, mate…” Pow. The next thing he knew was that he was sitting on the floor, holding an aching jaw. He looked up at one pfkin, a short demon with purple hair, and one salla, a tall, muscular grey demon. “Hey…ah…Pfk and Sal, nice of you to pay a call.”

Since Pfk was the brains and Sal was the brawn, Pfk did the talking. “Hello, ‘mate,’ fancy meeting you here.” He looked over at Buffy who was holding up a blanket for modesty and trying to put on her clothes at the same time. “Who’s the bird?”

“None of your bleeding business…ugh.” Spike flinched from the kick to his stomach he had received from Sal. “Buffy, luv, these are the gentleman, and I say that loosely, whose money Angel has.”

*****

Chapter 9 – The Trade

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Spike was shoved into the back seat of a Lincoln Town Car. In the front seat, a beaten up Xander was driving and Sal got in next to him and trained a crossbow on Spike. Pfk got in the back next to Spike and held a gun on Xander. A deadly criss cross. Buffy was noticeably absent.

Spike was furious. "You didn't have to put her in the trunk."

Pfk snorted. "No, we didn't have to, but we did."

"Well, get her the bloody hell out of there." Spike wanted to strangle the little pip squeak so bleeding bad he could taste it.

Said pip squeak smirked, knowing he had the upper card. "Think of her as security."

"I told you to get rid of her, that she..." Xander threw over his shoulder.

Spike growled. "Shut up, Xander."

"...that she was bad news.."

"Shut the fuck up, Xander." Spike smacked Xander on the back of the head gaining a somewhat satisfying yelp.

Pfk yelled over them. "Shut up, both of you."

Spike glare at Pfk. "Look, Pfk, I was going to get your sodding money..."

"Didn't look like you were getting any money a few minutes ago. Looked like you were getting a piece of ass." Pfk leered and licked his lips.

In less than a second, Spike punched him in the nose. Blood started dripping out immediately.

Using his shirt tail, Pfk delicately dabbed at his nose. "Alright, that's it. I want interest on the principal. I saw her on TV, and the girl was worth five hundred thousand. Now I want double that, plus the original two hundred thousand."

Spike's eyes widened in shock. He felt like he had been punched again. "Bullocks. You've got to be kidding me. There's no bloody way. You don't know that they have one million to pay at your whim."

"That's your problem, not mine." Pfk held out his bloody shirt tail. "It's simple. Get the money, or she dies."

Spike and Xander were dropped off at the diner near the burned out warehouse. After saying an absent minded hello to the waitress, Glenda, Spike borrowed some change to use the pay phone, but before he could make the call, Xander insisted on his attention.

"I told you to get rid of her."

Even though he wanted to smack him to his knees for repeating that same old tune so many times, Spike chose to just growl. After putting the coins in, he picked up the hand set in the phone.

Xander finally got smart and tried a different tack. "Ok, ok, let's just go. Blow this town off. We could get new id's, new names and start again. Go to Dallas or Pittsburg or somewhere that is not here. Let's just get out of town."

Spike slumped a tad and blew out an unneeded breath. "Not bloody well going to happen, mate. Fucking deal with it already."

Xander pulled on his shoulder to turn him so they could look eye to eye. "Look, man, you've only known this girl for two days."

Spike looked down and shook his head. "I know." What could he tell Xander? He couldn't believe he had fallen for Buffy in only two days either. But he had, and he had to get her back.

"Is she worth getting dusted over?" Shaking him, Xander looked at his friend like he had just turned chartreuse.

Spike's eyes flew back up to meet Xander's. "Yes. Yes, she's worth it and more."

Xander let out a long sigh while he let go of Spike. "Well, I'm out of here."

Nodding his understanding, Spike started searching for the Watchers Council's number. He suspected it wasn't in the phone book under W, so it would take a bit of using contacts and networking.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

What a trip the last two days had been, Spike reflected. Now he, a vampire, was standing waiting to be introduced by another vampire? who kills vampires? to the head of the Watchers Council. The man who trained slayers to kill vampires. A rattle snakes' nest if there ever was one. Just the thought made Spike's head spin. What the bloody hell was he doing here? Buffy. It was for Buffy.

The granite poof, Angel, spoke first. "Spike, this is Rupert Giles.

Before Spike could speak, Giles surprised him. "William the Bloody, but your prefer Spike."

Now on high alert, Spike looked the watcher up and down. "You've done your homework."

"Of course." Giles slowly nodded his head. "You have a reputation..."

Oh, balls, was there a stake coming from somewhere that he should be ducking. "Actually, I don't kill..."

"...a reputation for not killing humans." Now Giles' expression showed interest.

Spike let out the unnecessary breath that he had been holding. "No, I haven't killed since I left my family decades ago."

Giles held out his hand to shake. "When all this is over, I would like to discuss your remarkable decision with you, if you don't mind."

Spike certainly hadn't expected such an affable reception. "I...well...you...Right. I guess we could do that." Spike shrugged and glanced over at Angel for a little help, but Angel was stoic as ever. But back to business. "Do you have the money?"

Angel answered. "I have your bag of two hundred thousand." He set the infamous bag at Spike's feet.

"And the million?" Spike was starting to get a sick feeling in his stomach.

Giles finished cleaning his glasses. "Originally, the ransom that was requested was for half a million. After much manipulation of our finances, we were able to scrounge up that amount in cash."

Now his stomach was doing flip flops. "And...?"

With he glasses now perched on his nose again, Giles answered Spike's question. "And that is all we have now."

"What?!" Spike was practically hopping in place. "You only have five hundred thousand? Then what about the other half a million?"

"That is the rub, so to speak. There is and will not be more than half a million. You will just have to convince them to take what we give them. See if we can barter somehow."

"Barter? Barter?! You don't understand. These creeps won't take anything less than a mil - cash. They will..."

"They will have to take what we have to give. Now, if you will excuse me, I have another issue to attend to. The Hellmouth and all that." Giles started walking away, Angel with him.

Spike took a step after them. "Why don't you use your slayers?"

"Absolutely not." Spike could hear anger in Giles' voice. "Buffy is there of her own doing. We will give the original money, but we will not send the girls in danger over her prank."

Furious, Spike yelled after them. "You fucking wankers. I care more about her than you do."

Angel briefly looked back, but kept walking.

Disgusted, Spike turned and headed to the pool parlor to meet Pfk. No wonder Buffy didn't feel wanted or at home with Giles and the Slayers Academy. That Giles was a cold fish. A big, fat tuna. However, Spike would give Angel his due, he thought. The granite vampire did show a little compassion for Buffy when he had come after her. Spike had heard the affection when Angel had spoken of her, but still, Angel had just walked away all the same.

Picking up the bag of the seven hundred thousand dollars, Spike headed out. Well, he cared about Buffy; he loved her and no matter what was in the bag, he was going to somehow get her back.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

With great mistrust, Spike walked into the Eight Ball Pool Hall and found Pfk playing against Sal in the back. With the bag slung snugly over his shoulder for safe keeping, Spike spoke first. "Pfk. Let's do some business."

The demon nodded, put away his pool cue, and led the way into a deserted room in the back. "First I see the money, and second you see the girl."

Spike shook his head. "No. Not gonna happen that way. I see the bird now, then the money."

Pfk was trying hard for an air of superiority over Spike, but he was finding it hard. Good thing Sal was with him. "You don't understand how these things work..."

"What things work? What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Spike paced a few steps in frustration.

"Business. How things work in this business. I get the...who are you?" Pfk's manner changed drastically when Angel suddenly appeared behind the demon. Sal started across the room to help his employer.

Angel talked low in Pfk's ear. "First off, tell the moose to settle down." Pfk did. "Second, I'm the one holding the very large knife at your back. They call it a Bowie knife. It is a torturer's wet dream, believe me, I would know. And I would hate to gut you and then kill your partner so fast you wouldn't even get a chance to bleed on the floor."

Pfk looked over at Spike. "Who is this guy?"

Angel didn't let Pfk dismiss him by talking to Spike, so he answered. "I'm a friend of Spike's. That's all you need to know."

Spike was thankful. He wanted to do a jig like some mamby-pamby girl. His luck had finally changed. "Now that we made the introductions, show us the girl." He poked a finger into Pfk's face. "And you had better start praying that nothing has happened to her."

Pfk drove and Sal sat next to him with Angel and Spike in the back seat, holding knives on the pair in the front of them.

Spike spared a quick glance at Angel. "I wasn't expecting you."

Ever composed, Angel didn't bother looking over. "Everyone can use some back up." After a few moments, Angel asked, "When we get her back, what do you think she is going to do?"

What an odd question coming from someone who works so close with slayers, Spike thought. Why ask him? "She is going to do whatever she wants to."

Angel nodded. "I have a soft spot for Buffy. There is a great amount of responsibility and heartache to care about that girl. Sla..." Angel glanced up at Pfk before continuing. "...girls in her profession don't live long."

Spike felt like he had been hit by a freight train. He had never thought about the lifespan of a slayer, but when he did, he understood why they would die early. He could see her lying on the ground with her throat ripped out. "Yes, she would."

Angel looked at him in question.

Spike kept his eyes on Sal, but his voice was firm. "I would make sure. I would be watching her back."

"You would need to learn how to fight."

"You have to be a good fighter to be a vampire that won't feed. Every punk demon wants to kill me for the bragging rights. But I would find someone to teach me to fight better and fight with a partner." Confidence rang clear as he spoke.

"And if she doesn't want you helping her when she is finished training?" Angel's tone was polite.

Now the light shined brightly on the matter. Angel wanted to see what Spike would do if Buffy decided that there wasn't a place for him in her life as a slayer. "Then she will be who she wants. I won't try to stand in her way." As he watched Angel nod, Spike wondered what Angel would have done if he pushed himself off on Buffy. Can you say, "Dust!" Yes, Spike could, but if Buffy wanted him, he wouldn't let Angel come between them.

As the car traveled farther down the road, Spike idly wondered if Angel would be so polite if he knew that Spike had left a little love bite on his slayer-in-training.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

After the original two demons, Pfk and Sal as Spike called them, dropped her off in a huge warehouse and locked her in an office three floors up, Buffy paced and sat around bored. She had tried to pick the lock but was hindered by the fact that she had no idea how to make like a thief. So she sat in a swivel chair and spun in circles, trying to think of a way out. The ceiling. She looked up at the ceiling, which was most importantly made up of tiles instead of some solid material. Pay dirt. She started stacking a chair and a box to climb on.

Wait. She heard deep voices and the two sets of footsteps on the stairs up to the office that she was in. Buffy scrambled to get the chair and box off the desk before whomever it was entered, hide the evidence of her escape for use later.

She was spinning in the swivel chair as two of the grey thug-like salla demons entered. The first one through the door had a lecherous grin on his face while the second guard leaned his back on the closed door.

Buffy's eyes widened. This was so definitely of the bad. "Uh...hi, fancy meeting you guys here." No answer. Not good. "See, this is my problem. The door has been locked and I couldn't leave...?"

The demon took a couple of steps forward. "Just our luck. Sweet, little you being locked up here."

Not the answer that she wanted to hear. "...But problem solved. The door is unlocked now, and I can leave."

"No, that's still your problem, little girl." He reached down and unbuttoned his pants. "You're not going to leave here alive whether they pay the ransom or not."

"Not alive?"

"No."

"No breathing?"

"No. And in the meanwhile, since you are handy, Stan and I want to play a little." He sized her up with a look. "We may be a little big for you, but you'll do."

"What game do you want to play? Monopoly, yhatzee, go fish??" She was terrified of what was about to come out of his mouth.

"Rape."

No, no, no. "Ra...ra...rape...?" One of a slayer's worst nightmares was coming true. Yes, dying was the top one, but being raped by a demon had to be number two. Ok, she couldn't beat them up, so she had to start thinking fast. "Wouldn't you rather I participated willingly?"

The demon at the door spoke up for the first time. "No, I like them screaming."

He should have stayed quiet. Desperate now, Buffy kicked the closest demon in the stomach, and he went sailing fifteen feet into the opposite wall. What was up with that? She had hoped for a foot or two, but fifteen?? She didn't have anymore time to think when the demon that was at the door came at her. When he reached out for her, she grabbed his arm before he could and flipped him in the air. Before either had the time to make another attack, they heard voices downstairs.

The first demon pointed a claw in her face. "Not a word about this, girlie."

With that, both demons hurried downstairs, leaving Buffy to think about what had just occurred. Looking out of one of the only very small places in the frosted glass windows that were translucent, Buffy could see Spike and Angel with three crossbows trained on them, held by the three salla demons. Somehow she had to help.

Thinking back to the incident she had just had with the two demons, she was stunned over what had happened. She had used her fighting training from the academy, and it had worked better than she had expected. No, it had worked like a dream. When she had kicked the demon, he shouldn't have traveled so far. When she twisted the other demon's arm, he shouldn't have flipped so easily. What was going on? She asked that but also suspected that she knew the answer. She had finally received all of her slayer strength, and none too soon. She would celebrate later, but right now, she needed to help Spike and Angel.

Buffy went back to her original plan of escaping through a ceiling tile. She looked down at her feet and then back at the ceiling. Could she do it? She could if she really had her slayer strength. But there was only one way to find out. She lined up under the target tile, crouch down and jump. She came through the tile with more force than she had expected, but she did plan on where she was going to land. Actually, there was a lattice work of thin metal and beams. She was lucky enough to jump so that she could grab one of the beams and then pull herself up. Thinking of her new abilities, she grinned wide. 'Buffy, the Vampire Slayer.' She had finally come into her own.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
"Nice set up, Pfk." The warehouse was just like Spike's now burnt-out one, but with "the works" in improvements? super sized. Ultra expensive cars were everywhere. "Let's see what you would think if someone took a match to it." Pfk threw Spike a hateful look over his shoulder

Angel pushed on Pfk with the tip of his knife. "This is all nice and cozy like, but keep to why we are here. Let's see the girl."

"How about no?!" Pfk was unexpectedly smug. "See, two of my boys are behind you with crossbows. Put your knives down." Spike and Angel swung around to see two more salla demons on the stairs leading up to the office with crossbows trained on their chests. "Ah, I love the sound of metal hitting concrete. I guess a crossbow trumps a knife tonight." He motioned for Sal to pick up the knives and search both Spike and Angel. He found one more knife on Angel.

Unbeknownst to all the demons on the floor of the garage, Buffy was above them, moving in the rafters. She watched as Spike and Angel were made to drop some wicked looking knives. Seeing the pair of them was all she needed to boost her courage enough to act decisively against her captors. She, along with the two vampires, could win out the night. But first, she had to get down to the best possible spot, and then find a way to help without getting Angel and Spike killed. Not to mention the icing -- wait until they saw the new strength enhancing her fighting skills.

Regardless of the change of power due to his lack of weapon, Spike repeated Angel's demand. "We have to see the girl."

Pfk puffed up with self importance. "Ha. Funny. No, you don't get to demand anything. But since it is my men with the crossbows, I get to demand. And I demand to see the money."

Glancing over at Angel, Spike handed the bag over. Grabbing the handle, Pfk held the bag in the air, weighing it. "This isn't a million two. There's no way. This weighs considerably below." He set the bag on the trunk of a car and opened up the bag. After rifling around, he glared at Spike. "What are you trying to pull?"

Spike tried to step forward but got poked in the back by an arrow. "The two hundred thousand I owe you is in there. The half a million for her original ransom is in there. That is what was owed. You've been paid in full."

"No, no, no, no, no." Pfk's sing song voice was annoying. "I said an additional half a million. You're ripping me off." Pfk was practically hopping up and down with fury.

Spike didn't care anymore. He was pissed and was getting desperate to see Buffy and make sure she was alright. "I don't bloody think so, now let us make sure the girl is alright. Seven hundred thousand should at least buy a peep."

Furious, Pfk pulled a gun and stuck it in Spike's face. "No, I do think so, and I'm going..."

Angel knew a pending train wreck when he saw one. "Gentlemen, let's talk this through."

"I'm...listening." And that was just barely, considering all the snorting and cursing Pfk was doing.

Spreading his hands palms up, Angel tried to diffuse the situation. "I represent the people that put up the half a million for Buffy."

That at least stopped the furious, small demon from shooting Spike as he turned towards Angel. "Good, show me the other half a mil."

Angel dropped the bomb. "And I can assure you that there will not be any more money forthcoming, but I am sure we can..."

"Now that wasn't what I wanted to hear." Pfk tried his best to get up into Angel's face, which was hard considering the nine inch difference. "Not going to work for me."

Ah, how Spike wanted to verbally tear into this guy, but he kept reminding himself that Buffy was at risk. "Pfk...PFK! I'm sure that we could work something out."

"Actually, I think we can work out which one of you I will shoot first and then keep the girl for myself. After all this, there must be something valuable about her."

Chuckling, Spike shook his head. "Not anything you want, Pfk. I promise you. Not anything you want."

And Spike was still shaking his head when a forklift came out of the back and crashed into a Jaguar two cars down from where Spike and the others were standing. Using the spectacular distraction to his advantage, Spike kicked the crossbow out of the hand of the salla demon trained on him. Before his foot hit the ground, Spike hand punched Pfk out cold so that he could concentrate on finishing off the salla. The other two sallas were on Angel; Spike would help out there when he could. At the moment, the salla he had was enough for him.

Finally, Spike was able to get in a good blow to the salla's wind pipe, make a successful grab for Pfk's crossbow and shot the salla. He turned around into time to see Angel brutally snap the neck of another of the sallas. Taking a step forward, Spike looked for the third salla and froze. He blinked his eyes several times but still saw the same thing. He looked over at Angel, and the expression that he saw on the brunette vampire's face told Spike that he saw the same thing, and was just as shocked. Buffy was fighting, holding her own with the last salla demon. Spike shared a quick look with Angel, trying to decide whether help her or not, and with a nod of agreement, they held back. Their decision paid off. They watched as Buffy fan kicked the demon, sending him sideways. She reached down for the crossbow and shot him through the eye socket.

Angel smiled. Buffy had bagged her first demon, and she did it with style.

Spike couldn't have been more proud of her. He started towards her, but then the door of the warehouse opened and in walked Giles and two petite brunette girls that Spike assumed to be other slayers-in-training.

At the door shutting, Buffy looked up and the two girls joined her, all laughing and carrying on about Buffy's success.

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TBC

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