What A Girl Wants

The battle raged around them, but they were the only two people in the world, as far as either of them were concerned.

Buffy looked at the bright light emanating from the jewel around Spike’s neck, fear electrifying her body. She only had one night, damn it. Only one night, in the thousands of nights she’d had with him, to show him how she felt about him, show him how she needed him. To let him know by touch and taste that she loved him, he was her all, and there would never be another for her. She didn’t say the words exactly; she really hadn’t even imagined that the two of them wouldn’t make it out alive. Now, with the sun shining down on him and the light pouring out of his chest, she wondered if that was wishful thinking.

She reached for him, and he put his hand out to keep her from touching him. He couldn’t…wouldn’t hope, not now, not ever. Hope was something that he couldn’t afford, not if he was going to save the world. Instead, she clasped his hand in her own, and flames engulfed their joined palms, rising incandescent from their fingers, lighting her face.

He’d always loved her face in candlelight, and now was no exception. Her eyes sparkled, and he looked at her, really looked, for the first time since their doomed relationship came to an end, there in the bathroom.

She tried to show him her love. It vibrated through every cell in her body, twisted every fiber of her being into knots of painful desire—not only to love him, but to save him. Save him from this—from himself—from the rejection she’d dished and dished, until rejection exploded in their faces.

Tears welled in her eyes, and she tried to keep them from spilling down her cheeks. She gripped his hand tightly, aware of the flames joining them, but feeling no heat from them. “I love you. I always have.”

He looked at her, sadness etched in his features. “No, you don’t. But thanks for sayin’ it.”

Rejection now. When she finally opened her heart and soul to him, finally let him inside her deepest, secret feelings, and he threw them back in her face. “I do love you, Spike. I do.”

He just looked at her sadly. “Go. Go now. I want to see how this ends.”

She closed her eyes, and refused to let go of his hand. He made her decision for her. He let go first, dropping her hand, and she reached to touch him again, to feel him again. Oh, for the chance to kiss him one more time….

“God, I wish that I could go back and change this—make you understand that I love you. I wish….”

She heard Faith calling her name from a great distance, and then there was a flash of golden light. She watched Spike burn, dissolve into dust, and then the blackness overtook her, and she saw no more.


She was the first to awaken in a darkened room, the streetlights outside the only light to penetrate the gloom. She looked around, and a memory struck her. A memory of this very room, this very place, and these people….

And Buffy knew. The Powers That Be had heard her, and granted her the wish. She knew the ending of the story as it was written. They had given her the power to change it—change everything, if she wanted. And she did. She wanted to change the end of the tale, never wanted to see Spike burn to ashes before her eyes. She moaned at the memory, and her moan seemed to rouse the others in the room.

Willow’s spell. Her mindwipe spell, the one that had affected them all. She needed to play along, and pretend she didn’t know who she was. Okay. Not hard.

She watched her friends and family going through the motions. She searched the room, found Spike lying on top of the counter, and could barely suppress a giggle when he rolled off the counter and onto the floor. Her eyes drank the sight of him hungrily as he jumped up and straightened his clothes. They dealt with Xander’s paranoia; they found their names, all except her.

“I think I’ll call myself Joan.”

Spike was searching for some identification, and looked inside the tweed jacket he was wearing. “If you’re my da, what did you bleeding name me. Randy? Randy Giles? Why didn’t you just call me Horny Giles, or desperate-for-a-shag Giles? I knew there was a reason I hated you!”

Buffy smiled, and a familiar sensation clenched deep in her gut. “You don’t have to be desperate for a shag. I’d shag you.”

The entire ensemble turned to stare at her. “What? Like you all know me. Randy might be my…boyfriend.”

Rupert stepped forward, concern furrowing his brow. “Do you remember something?”

Buffy started, remembering she wasn’t supposed to remember. “No. Nothing. I just…know that I…feel something…when Randy talked. No remembering.”

“I see. Perhaps you are Randy’s girlfriend, that’s why you’re here in the shop.”

Buffy listened to the by-play around her, and wondered how she would be able to get Spike alone.


It was only after the vampire attack that Buffy realized the perfect way to get Spike off by himself.

“They seem to be wanting to get their hands on Randy. We’ll run out the front of the shop and distract them, while you all escape through the tunnel in the back room.”

“Gotcha.” Xander led the girls to the basement, Giles and Anya prepared for the attack on the Magic Box, and Joan and Randy ran out the front door and through the kiss of vampires that had gathered in front of the shop.

She had to remember to be frightened when she saw his game face for the first time. She had to remind herself to run. Run away from him. It tore her heart to do it, but she had to. She couldn’t change things very much, she knew that. But this second chance—it was exactly what she needed.

She ran until she felt her heart would explode from the exertion. She could hear him right behind her, calling for her. When she finally had to stop to catch her breath, he was right there with her, on top of her, before she knew what had happened. She threw him onto the ground, and straddled him, forcing him to be still.

“You’re a vampire. Check the lumpies. And the teeth.”

She watched as realization dawned on him, and tried hard not to grind her pelvis into his. “Randy…shake it off.”

He shook his head, and his game face magically disappeared. “Now, let’s fight these vampires, and then maybe we can….”

She let the sentence hang between them, and he couldn’t help but smell the arousal perfuming the air. “I’m a vampire, and you still want to shag me?”

“I told you back in the shop. I remember…feelings for you. Maybe I don’t care that you’re a vampire. Maybe…it isn’t that big a deal.”

“Maybe I’m a noble vampire, helping the helpless, fighting for the weak.”

She tried not to scoff. “Yeah, and maybe I’m really Joan of Arc. Come on.” She climbed off of him, and extended her hand to help him up. Pulling a stake from her back pocket, another from her jacket, she tossed one to Spike. “Don’t mess with them. Just kill them. We’ll figure out the rest of it later.”

The vampires were on them then, and there was no more time for talking. They whirled and spun in a feral ballet, dust flying, and when all the vampires were gone, Joan stepped closer to the shark that had been calling them orders during the fight.

“You need to leave Randy alone now. Whatever debts he has with you, he’ll pay them. I suggest you scoot, before we find out what a stake does to a loanshark.”

As the shark moved quickly away, she grabbed Randy by the hand, knowing the end of the spell was nigh. “Come on. I want to be alone with you. Now.”

She ran like the wind through the streets, dodging cars and people alike, until they arrived at Restfield Cemetery. Instinct alone drove her to the crypt, his crypt, and they were inside, winded, panting for breath.

The door barely closed behind him when she was in his arms. She grabbed him, pulled him to her, and pressed her lips to his, feeling the magic of his kiss again.

He was trying so hard to be a gentleman, she knew. He tried not to allow her to strip him out of the strange looking suit, unsuccessfully so. He tried to talk sense to her, without succeeding. He stopped trying when she fell to her knees before him, unzipped his trousers, and took his cock in her mouth.

He was so cool, so hard, so familiar. She tried not to feel, and failed miserably. Her hand wrapped around him, her tongue laving his shaft from bottom to top in long swipes, and she watched his face until he threw his head back, groaning, and buried his fingers in her hair.

She opened her mouth wide, and took him all in, relaxing her throat and timing her breathing to her downstrokes. Her hand cupped his balls, rolling them gently in her soft palm, then stroking his inner thigh with her nails; she sensed the tension building in him, in his gut.

The magic pulled tight at them, and then broke, snapping him back to himself. Buffy relished the look that crossed his face, the utter shock and surprise at his cock buried in the Slayer’s face, her throat massaging its length as she cupped his ass in her hands to keep him from pulling out of her.

Buffy waited until he relaxed, then gripped him with one hand as she drew back to talk to him. “Is this what you really wanted, Spike? Is this your dream? To have the Slayer on her knees before you, sucking you, tasting you? Didn’t you tell me…” /was it just last night?/ “to suss out what I wanted, and stop tormenting you?” She smiled, and he squirmed. “Maybe I sussed out what I wanted. Maybe…I want this. Maybe you need to make me want this.”

She didn’t give him the chance to reply. She ran her tongue down a prominent vein, then back up to swirl around the spongy, velvety head. “Watch me, Spike. Watch the Slayer drive you complete bonkers while I suck your dick.”

She filled her mouth with saliva, then wetted his cock down from the top. Covering his head with her lips, she slid them slowly down his shaft, breathing shallowly as her nose nestled in his pubic hair. She swallowed, knowing her own strength, and he gasped aloud, eyes and mouth wide open.

Her hands—her hands were busy of themselves. She filled them with his asscheeks, firm and sculpted like all the rest of him. She teased his balls with her fingertips, scratching them lightly as they drew tight against the underside of his cock. She explored the loose skin behind his balls, knowing that she would have to taste it later. He moaned, arching his hips and clenching his cheeks.

She wrapped both hands around his cock, and it popped out of her mouth with a juicy sucking sound. Leaning down, she ran her tongue over his balls, sucking the loose skin into her mouth, then nipped at the loose skin behind them with blunt teeth. Her hands stroked him lightly as she crawled between his legs to draw his testicle into her mouth, sucking gently while she barely grazed the skin with her teeth. She repeated her actions on the other, and his knees buckled. She propped him up with her hand as she kneeled before him again, looking up into his face, slack with overstimulation.

“Spike,” she said, as she rolled her palm over the head of his cock. “What do you want to do now?”

He yanked her to her feet, and she found herself pressed hard against a very confused vampire.

“Buffy, what--?”

She put her finger over his lips, hushing him. “No, Spike, not now. Just go with me, baby. Go with me.” She replaced her finger with her mouth, and the passion ignited between them. She allowed it to flow through her this time, gave it permission to inflame her senses with the magic that was him and her and them together.

Her lips parted, and she waited impatiently for him to take the hint, then teased his mouth with her tongue. He finally noticed, and swept his tongue over her teeth, searching deep inside her mouth. She sucked his tongue like she’d sucked his cock, deep inside her mouth, massaging its length against her palate. He began purring, a deep rumble in his chest that tickled her nipples, and she had the overwhelming urge to feel him naked against her, cool and hard against her heated flesh.

She pushed him away, and saw pain flash through his expressive eyes, then understanding on its heels as she yanked her shirt over her head, tossing it to one side. She yanked her boots off, then her socks, and finally tore her pants down over her hips, breaking the side of her thong herself. She stood in front of him, naked and glorious in the dimly lighted crypt, and waited, tapping her foot.

He pulled off the poncy shirt, the tweed trousers that were barely hanging on his hips, toed off the shoes and socks, until he was as naked as she. A thrill rippled through her at the sight of him, sculpted alabaster and ivory, his cock proudly jutting in front of him, pearlescent dew on its very tip…her pussy contracted painfully, and she wanted to feel him, wanted him inside her now.

Reaching out, she traced her hand over his skin. Muscles knotted beneath flesh and her breath caught in her throat at his beauty. She couldn’t keep her hands off him, couldn’t stop touching him, and then she was kissing him again, all thought emptying from her mind.

“Spike, I want you.”

She knew he could smell her arousal—hell, she could smell her arousal. She advanced on him and he backed away, suspicion in his eyes.

“The Slayer doesn’t want me. She just wants to stake me.”

“Right now, buddy, the Slayer wants you to stake her.” Frustration furrowed her brow, and she backed him up to the other wall of the crypt. “Spike….”

“Yeah?”

“Didn’t you just tell me yesterday that you were my willing slave?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Didn’t you just basically tell me to make up my mind about you, so you could either be with me or without me?”

“Yeah.” He dropped his head, staring at the floor. “Yeah, I did.”

“Didn’t you kiss me last night, like I was your last hope? Your lifeline? Your lover?”

“Yeah. And then you told me that a kiss didn’t mean anything. That’s what I don’t get. Why are you here now?”

Closing the distance between them, she pressed herself against him, peppering his face with kisses. “I’m here to tell you—I sussed it out—I want you—I want to know you—I want to make love with you—I love you, Spike. I love you.”

He made a choked sound, and she drew back far enough to see tears welling in his eyes. “No teasing, Buffy. I can’t stand it. I can’t.”

Her heart hurt inside her chest, seeing the utter torment she put him through. “I’m not teasing, Spike. Touch me. See if I’m teasing you.”

Of it’s own volition, his hand reached for her, grazing the upper slope of her breast, and she groaned, leaning into his caress. He grabbed a handful of hair, and pulled her back to look deep into her eyes, then crushed her mouth with his, plundering its depths with his tongue.

She gave over all control then, and he pushed her shoulders against the wall and pinned her there with his body, his hands skimming her bare skin and setting flames of desire through her. She grabbed a cornice to support herself, and he stood poised between her thighs, his cock brushing her sodden flesh.

She reached one hand between them to position him, then wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him forward with pressure from her heels. He slid into her, their bodies interlocking perfectly, her walls stretching to welcome every inch of him.

When he was in her fully, nudging the end of her passage, he stopped to allow her time to accommodate him. Pressing their foreheads together, he looked deep into her hazel eyes, then closed his eyes.

“Oh, Slayer, if you only knew what I really wanted, you would stake me on the spot.”

“First, I want you to call me Buffy. Or pet. Or love. Not Slayer. Second, I do know what you want. You want to be my mate. You want this to be permanent. You want my love. Don’t you?” His eyes flew open, and she found the courage to continue. “I told you—I love you, Spike. I. Love. You. Maybe I should have told you before now, but I didn’t. Love you, Spike.”

She ran her hands over his face, memorizing each curve, each plane. She touched his arms that held her tightly, supporting her weight, reveling in their strength. Then he began to move slowly, and she marveled at his control, when she felt she had none. There was a wondrous look in his eyes, like he couldn’t believe this was happening, and she held that look close, locked it in her heart for future times.

He moved slowly, almost gentle with her. She wanted more, and spurred him in the ass with her heels. His eyes widened, and he began to thrust more aggressively, bending his head to tease her nipple as it swayed seductively before him. She threw her head back, dragging air into her lungs, and he picked up the pace, grinding against her clit with every push into her and rubbing against her sweet spot with every withdraw from her. Her nerves knotted into corded ribbons of flame, and she started clenching her inner muscles around him, grasping him tightly and making it harder for him to move.

His mouth was on her neck, skimming over her flesh, and she knew without doubt what he needed. In the past, she had always denied him. She would never deny him again.

She whispered in his ear. “Spike—Spike—lover, I want you to fuck me hard. Make me yours. Ruin me for anyone else, because I don’t want anyone else to ever make me feel like you do. Fuck me, Spike, and when I start to come? I’m going to ask you to do something. Don’t question it. Just do it, okay? Just do it for me, baby. Please.”

He growled against her neck, “Anything Sl—Buffy. Anything for you.”

He slammed his hips against her now, pelvises crashing together, bruising flesh. She was close, so close, and she knew exactly what would send her over the top. She held his head where he’d been kissing her neck and the pulse beating wildly beneath her skin, and gritted, “Bite me, Spike. Fill me with fang and make me come, baby!”

She had a familiar tingle in her gut, and knew that he was in game face now. His fangs slipped into her as easily as his cock had, and she threw herself over the edge. She was suspended in time, her climax rippling from one end of her body to the other, and she lost herself in sensation. She could hear herself speaking, but lost all the meaning of the words as she came, over and over.

Without warning him, she reached her head down and gripped his scar between her teeth, tearing into him with her Slayer strength. Blood flowed freely into her mouth and down his chest, and she cringed at the ruin she’d made of his neck, but she still drew back to look him in the eye as she said, “Mine. My vampire. For now and always.”

That was when he dropped her. Her blood still on his mouth, he staggered back, clutching his chest. “Buffy!”

“Mine. You’re mine, Spike, until I loose you.” She looked at him, suddenly sad. “Don’t you want to be mine, Spike?”

He realized he had her blood on his tongue, and stepped forward, the Big Bad coming to the fore. His demon growled, “Mine.” Spike shook off his demon visage, and sat on the floor in the dirt, sobbing.

She rushed to him, kneeling at his side, and drew his head to her chest. “Spike, baby, don’t. Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.”

“You don’t understand, love. Nobody ever loved me enough to claim me. Dru didn’t love me enough to claim me.” He lifted his face to her, unashamed at the tears staining his cheeks. “You really do love me, don’t you?”

“Silly vampire, of course I do. Didn’t I tell you enough?”

“I’m yours, Buffy.”

“And I’m yours, Spike. As long as you want me.”




Is this the end of the story for our blonde duo? Will there be more? More love? More hot sex? More romance? Review today, and tell me—should I continue this saga? I’m waiting….

What A Girl Wants

Chapter 2—In Dreams

Buffy drifted home on a cloud. She could have never imagined things would be so easy to change. A little attitude adjustment here, a simple action there, and maybe she could avert the disaster her life had become in such a short amount of time.

Still, she knew in her heart that the greatest task was still ahead of her—convincing Giles and the Scoobies that this was the right path. She was aware of their mistrust and disgust for Spike, but the summer without her should have changed all that, shouldn’t it? Somehow, she never delved into what happened while she was gone. She had been too wrapped up in her own misery to care what had happened to anyone else.

She was shocked at the revelations that came with her 20/20 hindsight. She was, in a word, a bleeding bitch. Using Spike the way she did. Ignoring Willow and her problems. Severely fucking up the whole investigation of the Evil Trio. Tara—maybe in this time, this place, she could prevent all that. All the pain they had to go through. Dawn’s pain, Willow’s pain, Spike’s pain. So much pain and so little attention to it from her end, just because of her self-centered egocentric view on the world. Her pain was the only thing that mattered. Her pain. Her numbness, more like it.

By the time she got to Revello Drive, she was fired up and ready for action. Ready to take on whatever she had to, to make things better for everyone.

And she arrived just in time to see Tara leaving, boxes of her belongings scattered on the front porch. Dawn was upstairs in her room, crying over the dissolution of the family she knew; Willow sat in the bathroom, resentment and disillusionment full on her face, shining brightly through the tears that seeped from her eyes.

Buffy ran back down the stairs to stop Tara before she put the last box in the taxicab. “Tara—wait!”

Tara turned to her, cheeks flushed and tears running freely over them, leaving silvery trails in the moonlight. “I can’t stay, Buffy. I can’t. She messed with my mind, again. I can’t….”

Buffy pulled the girl into the circle of her arms, and held her close while she stifled her own sobs. “I will take care of this, Tara. I promise you. Willow needs training. I’ll see that Giles gets her some help, of some kind, before things—turn out badly.”

Tara pulled away from Buffy, then turned her magickal eyes on her. “You aren’t our Buffy. Our Buffy didn’t care, or didn’t notice. You—you’re fixing things, aren’t you?”

Buffy looked like a deer in headlights. “Why do you say that?”

“Your aura. It’s different. There’s no—it’s different, changed from the one you had yesterday. I-I can’t explain.”

“Neither can I, Tara. Call it a gift from the Powers That Be. But I will tell you, you’re right. Dead on. Just, don’t let anyone else know, okay? And please, don’t be a stranger. Willow is stronger with you than she is without you, and she’ll need that strength.”

Tara nodded, then got into the cab. She looked out of the window at Buffy, and said, “You know, for some reason, I trust you. Make things right, okay?”

“I will, Tara.” I’ll make it right for everyone, she thought.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next morning, after a good night of blessedly dreamless sleep, Buffy got up, prepared for her greatest challenge.

She called Giles as soon as she woke up, asking him to have all the Scoobies, including Tara, at the Magic Box for a meeting. She dressed carefully, walked with Dawn to school, then headed to the Magic Box, preparing to do battle.

Giles was as good as his word. He had all the gang there, donuts and coffee waiting, as well as his ever-present tea. She looked at the familiar faces around the table, knowing what was to come for each of them and prayed to whoever was listening for strength to avert the disasters.

She stood at the edge of the table, not wanting to sit, and pinned Giles with her eyes. “Okay, Giles. This is important. Really important. And if it means the shop stays closed today, it has to. I had a Slayer dream last night. And I was terrified.”

“A Slayer dream? Buffy, are you certain?” Giles reached to remove his glasses, and Buffy flapped her hand in his direction.

“No need to clean them, Giles, they aren’t dirty. Leave them alone. Yes, I know it was a Slayer dream. I saw…well, I would just rather not say what I saw. But I know—I know that if we don’t change some things, and I mean like right now, there will be more heartache and more death than we can handle. I know that I have been all selfish girl lately, but this dream—it showed me where all this self-pity and self-loathing will lead me. And the rest of you. So, here’s some things we’re gonna do….”

She leaned forward, and looked deep into Willow’s eyes. “Willow, I love you. You are my best friend in the world. You know more about me than anyone does and vice versa. But Will, you need help. You need to learn to control your magic and yourself, before someone gets hurt. What you did last night was inexcusable. I know you want to help me, but forgetting where I was is not the way. I want you to go to England with Giles, and I’m certain that he knows someone from his Ripper days to assist you in training.”

Willow’s eyes filled with tears, but to her credit, none fell. “I know that I did a very bad thing yesterday, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to turn out like that.”

“I know, Will. Don’t you see? You need control. You need training. You went from no magick to tons of it, in a very short time. I don’t want to see it take you over.” She rounded the table, and pulled the redhead into a hug. “It isn’t easy, Will, to accept help. I know that better than everyone here. Please. Do it for me. Do this for Dawn. Most important, do it for Tara.”

The tears finally ran, and soaked the shoulder of Buffy’s shirt. “I will. I will, I promise.”

“Giles?”

“I know of a coven outside Bath. I’m sure they can…er…assist Willow with her control and balance issues.”

“Good. Now, I want to tell you all about Spike.”

Xander finally decided to participate in the conversation, since the donuts were gone. “The Evil Undead? What about him? You gonna stake him? Can I watch?”

Buffy rounded on him, and he saw the anger shimmering in the depths of her eyes. Her words were controlled when she spoke, belying her feelings. “Spike is important to me. Very important. He will be a key player in the future, and a key player for me. So there will be no stakeage of Spike, and no name calling anymore, Xander. He is a Scooby. He will stay an important member of this team.”

Xander stood, bristling. “Buffy, you can’t expect us to—“

“I am not expecting anything, I am demanding it. He has done more for me, for the Scoobies, for my sister, than all of you can imagine. How many times did he save your sorry ass, Xander, while I was dead? How many nights did he patrol with you? How many times did he stay with Dawn? Don’t worry about answering. I already know. If anything, I can get the truth from my sister.”

She paced around the table, all eyes on her. She could feel their stares boring into her, and she accepted that there would be resistance. Especially with what came next.

“I am taking him as my mate. Claiming him.”

The room exploded with voices. Giles was uncharacteristically silent.

She raised her hands, then her voice, when they kept talking. “Okay, enough! I saw this—and I’m not opposed to it. Why are you?”

Giles removed his glasses this time, cleaning them vigorously with his handkerchief. “Buffy, I think that this needs some thought before you take such a step.”

“Nope, no thought. Slayer dream, Giles. I was there. I saw it. Spike will be a key player, and I need him.”

“What the hell do you need a peroxide blond vampire for, Buffy? He’s only tried to kill you since—well, forever. Don’t you remember that?”

She rounded on Xander, tired of his comments and his snarky behavior. “And you make such good relationship choices, huh? Let’s look at your dating history, Alexander Harris. Preying mantis teacher. Dead Inca mummy girl. Ex-demon. Cordelia. Not exactly the normal hit parade, is it? I don’t get to choose who you date. I don’t even stick my nose in it, do I? Don’t I deserve the same consideration? If I make a mistake, it’s mine to make, not yours. I will live with the consequences, not you. And if it comes to it, I will gladly listen to you saying I-told-you-so. But that is so not the way this will go. He loves me. Loves me. With all my flaws, all my shortcomings, all my baggage, he loves me. I have a limited time and a short expiration date on my life. I deserve to be loved. So does he. In short, if you don’t like my choices—sod off, as Spike would say.”

“Buffy, what if--?” Willow started to say.

“What if nothing, Will. What if the world ended tomorrow? You would have had time with Tara. Xander with Anya. Me? What do I have to look back on? Angel? Oh, yeah, sleep with him once, and he loses his stinking soul—that’s a great memory. How about Parker? The ultimate user loser? Riley? Insecurity and a little dick. Sorry, Giles. My point is, I need some happiness. You four, in your own little minds, decided to bring me back, and stole happiness right out from under me. If Spike makes me happy, then I deserve it. And I’m reaching out to grab it. Like it or not.”

“Buffy’s right.”

The group turned as one to look at the shy blond witch. “S-she’s right. We did do s-some pretty bad things to her. Then expected her to pick up right where she left off. We need to quit meddling in her life.”

“I think so too.” Anya nodded vigorously. “Buffy deserves multiple orgasms, and vampires are famous for their stamina. She needs someone who can match her in Slayer strength, and Spike would be perfect for her. Plus, they are already attracted to each other, so there will be lots of happy sex, and very little angst between them.”

“Thank you, Tara, and…Anya. Tara, I want you to move back into the house after Will leaves for England. Dawn needs you.”

“O-okay.”

“I’m also asking Spike to move in.” She waited for Xander to finish spluttering, and said, “I just wanted to warn you all ahead of time. Dawn needs guidance. She respects Spike. She loves Tara. She needs all three of us. If I don’t get a handle on things soon, Social Services will be on my doorstep and turning her over to foster care or my deadbeat dad, and that just will not happen.”

She picked up her light jacket, and draped it over her arm. “I am going job hunting. You,” she said, indicating all of them, “have some decisions to make.”

Chapter 3—Do You Wanna Touch Me There?

Although she said she was going job hunting, the only job she had at this moment was healing a very emotionally scarred vampire.

She turned her path to Restfield, and thought of approaches she could use. He would believe the Slayer dream story, but she really wanted to tell him the truth. Well, most of the truth. At the least, about loving him.

She tried to think of when it became love. So many confrontations over the years. Was it when he was chained to the bathtub, when flirting and teasing him became her special torture for him? She smiled at the memory of him writhing in his chains while she closed the shower curtain and changed. She could hear them clanking against the tub while he twisted, trying to glimpse her skin, because, vampire, evil.

Was it Willow’s ‘Will Be Done’ spell, when they were engaged? She could still taste those kisses on her mouth, and unconsciously lifted her hand to touch it. She couldn’t keep her hands off of him, nor could he keep his off her. She regretted not sneaking off and shagging him, as he pointedly suggested several times in her ear. Maybe they could have saved themselves a lot of wasted time.

It couldn’t have been when he chained her in the basement. That was just, eww, although Buffy could think of some interesting uses for those chains now. Although, that was pretty much on the edge of the bad, as far as she was concerned. Right now, at least.

So many times. So many wasted chances. She shook her head at the waste of it all. At least she had this chance, and there was no way she was screwing this up.

She entered the crypt and looked around. “Spike! Where are you?”

No answer. None. Complete silence.

She walked over to the trapdoor and looked down. No light.

She went down the ladder anyway.

The cavern was dark. Pitch black. Her eyes adjusted, and she saw the red flare of the cigarette moments before she smelled the smoke. “Hello, baby. How are you today?”

“What the hell are you playing at, Slayer?”

She was shaken at the venom oozing through the darkness. “Spike, what is it?”

“What did you do to me? What the bloody hell do you want?”

She moved forward cautiously, feeling her way blindly with her feet. “I want you, Spike. I thought I made that clear to you last night.” She toed her way further into the cavern, almost tripping over an invisible object. “I love you.”

“Bollix. You don’t have it in you to love. Especially not me. I’m beneath you, remember?”

And my words come back to bite me in the ass, she thought. “That was ages ago, Spike. I know you now. I trust you now. Do you think that I would claim someone I don’t truly love? I’m the Slayer. I know what a claim is, and what it does. Do you think that I would tie myself forever to someone I don’t see as my partner and my equal? You know me better than that, Spike. What’s more, you love me. I know you do. You’ve told me often enough. You’ve showed me even more. Will you light a candle or something, so I can kiss you?”

His lighter flickered, and she saw enough of the room to be at his side before the candle fully caught. His face was enough to make her gasp.

His face was a bruised and bloody pulp. Bruises bloomed violently across his ribs and down his abs. She grabbed his hand, and looked at the split knuckles and swollen digits. “What happened?”

“I still know where to go for a little of the fists and fangs, love. Needed to last night. After you—left me…needed some violence. Went to find it.”

“Just curious, but why?”

His eyes were evasive. “Had some issues that needed working out. About love. Claims. Sires. All right, pet? Do I need to give you all the dirties, about how Spike was such a loser, always a loser? Don’t think that you could handle the truth about what you’ve taken on, pet.”

She gripped his head in her hands, and brought his eyes to hers. He fell hard into the thrall of the claim, and she tapped his jaw with her finger to snap him back to reality. “Spike. I need you to listen. Hear my truth. You are not a loser. You have never been a loser. You are the only vampire that I was ever truly afraid of, but moreso, you are probably the bravest man I know. You would do anything to protect me. I will do everything to protect you.” She pulled his head to her shoulder, wrapping her arms around him. “God, how I love you. Please, don’t throw this away.”

“You called me a man.”

“Aren’t you?”

“‘M a monster.”

She pulled back to look at him. “You’re my man. And my monster.” She pulled away from him, and started to pace around him. “Spike, don’t you get it? I’m not afraid anymore. I don’t care what anyone thinks. There are no roadblocks for a Buffy/Spike romance. Except Buffy and Spike. The Scoobies know. Giles knows. Dawn doesn’t know yet, but she will as soon as school is out. I came over here to ask you to move in the house with us. We need you. I need you.”

Astonishment held his body rigid. “You want me to what?”

She curled her body next to his, careful not to hurt him any further. “Move in. My room. With me. Sleep next to me every day. Patrol with me every night. Be by my side, with me always. Isn’t that what we’ve done?”

“’Spose.”

She reached up to kiss him lightly on his mangled lips. “We need to get you healed up. How could you do this to yourself? How can we honeymoon with you all beaten to hell?”

He almost chuckled. “Vampire healing, pet. Be as good as new in no time.”

She looked around at his cozy nest that he’d built, and looked up at him. “Are you moving in the house?”

“Yes, pet, I will move in with you and Dawnie and the wiccalovers.”

“Only one wiccalover. Willow is going to England with Giles.”

He looked at her, surprised. “Your idea?”

“Yes. She’s a loose cannon, Spike. We have to help her harness her power, not let it harness her.”

“I agree, pet, but I never thought you noticed.”

“Oh, I see a lot, my dear Spike. Do you want to take any of this with you?”

He looked around the crypt, and shrugged. “There’s a couple of things. My albums and tapes. A box. A suitcase. I think I’ll have Clem move in here. Couldn’t hurt to have an ally close by, and they’ll be no vamps nesting here.”

“Good idea. You have a bed? A real bed.”

“Yeah, your point?”

She ran over to it, and jumped in the center of the mattress. “Is it sturdy?”

A gleam shimmered in the depths of incredibly blue eyes. “Pretty much. Why?”

She started shucking her clothes, and he watched her in a stupor. She patted the bed, and smiled evilly at him, then purred, “Aren’t you going to see how sturdy it is? I mean, the sun is still up, and Dawn will be at school for a few more hours yet….”

She stretched, her breasts bobbing with the effort, and lay back onto the sheets. She sighed and closed her eyes, turning her head to bare his claim on her throat, and he was on her seconds later, demon at the fore and fangs glistening.

She wasn’t afraid. “There’s my guy. Hello lover.”

“Buffy—“

“I’m not afraid, Spike. Fucking a Slayer is much better than killing one, isn’t it?”

His game face slid into his skin, and she shivered. He was so beautiful! She pulled him down to her, and their mouths locked into a deep and impassioned kiss.

He opened a crack in his metaphysical shell, and was blinded by the brilliance of her. She was fully open to him, gifting him with all of her. William, the poncy bastard, wanted to cry, a reaction that Spike and his demon nixed and reined in. The demon wanted to taste her, and Spike shoved that impulse to the very back closet in his mind. Spike wanted to love her, and he won out at the end.

She watched him, his inner battles clear to her with him open, and she touched his face, her finger trailing over his scarred eyebrow. “They are all three acceptable reactions, lover. I am yours.”

He cradled her in his arms, awe and wonder in his eyes, thanking the Powers That Be who brought him this beautiful woman. She basked in the adoration, stretching and purring. He brushed strands of her hair back out of her face, and gazed into the pools of her eyes, more green than hazel glinting in them now. His fingers traced her face, each feature more dear and precious to him, and she melted under his touch.

“Spike, you’re hurt—“

“Never too hurt for this. Touching you. Watching you. This is my heaven.”

He skimmed his fingers across her nipple, and watched her writhe. “This is what I dream of, pet. Watching you get so turned on, so wet for me. Do you want me to keep going?”

“Please.” She meant it to come out controlled, but it came out between gasping breaths.

“Tell me you like this.”

“God, Spike, I love your hands on me. I love your mouth on me. I love you. Please.”

“Tell me you want more.”

“I want you to touch me and taste me and drink from me. More, please….”

He lowered his head, and caught her nipple between his teeth, lightly pressing. He flicked his tongue across the tip, and was rewarded by a throaty moan above his head. “Like that, huh?”

She dragged her hand through his hair, messing it into loose curls. “Yes, baby, yes.”

He reached for the other nipple with his free hand as he teased the one in his mouth to a diamond-hard peak. Giving it a final rake with his blunt teeth, he moved to the other side, to lavish it with the same attention. He was about to stop when he heard her breathy voice above him, begging for more. He could sense she was closing in on her orgasm, and he intensified his efforts, stretching nipples taut with mouth and hand, alternating his touches with tastes and nips of her succulent flesh.

He heard her demands to be bitten, and he slipped a fang into the nipple he had in his mouth. Her shout echoed in the cavern as he suckled her, drawing her sweet coppery tang into his mouth as she spasmed beneath him. He could smell her from where he was, and knew that she was slick, hot, and ready for him to plunge into her, but he drew back instead to watch her face as the sensations he was evoking made her lax, her eyes glazed with satiety.

He raised himself to kiss that sweet, lax mouth, and she twined shaking fingers behind his neck. “Spike, please…more….”

He smiled down at her, and smoothed her tousled hair. “Tonight, love. I—I think I cracked some ribs last night. I’ll heal myself up for you, I promise.”

She touched his side, concern furrowing her brow. “Why didn’t you say something? Before—“

“Not a chance, pet. And cock up my chances of witnessing a marvel such as that? I’d rather dust.”

“You can do that anytime you want. Within reason,” she added hastily, noticing the gleam in his eyes. “I won’t deny you anything, Spike.”

What A Girl Wants

Chapter 4—Heaven Can Wait

Buffy walked over to the school, just in time to walk with Dawn toward home. They walked in silence for a while, and then Buffy turned to Dawn, her nerves tightly wound, ready to hear the worst from her sister.

“There’s, uh, some things I want to talk to you about, Dawnie,” she began, and her sister didn’t even pause.

“What’s up now? Figure out a way to get rid of me yet?”

Buffy was horrified at what her sister had said. Did she really feel so unwanted? Unloved? She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, and after continuing on for a few steps, Dawn finally stopped and turned to her.

“Are you coming or not? I have things to do, you know.”

She put her hands on her sister’s shoulders, and looked deep into her eyes. “I am not figuring out a way to get rid of you. That’s the first thing I need to say. I love you, Dawnie. I really do.”

“Yeah, and that’s why you took a swan dive off a tower into a swirling pit of energy. Because you love me.”

“Yes! I didn’t want to lose you. I didn’t want…oh, hell, it doesn’t matter now. What does matter is you are my sister. I am going to take care of you and make a home for you. But there are going to be some major changes in our home, and I thought I needed to tell you about them. Willow is going to England, to learn control over her magic. Tara is moving in with us. So is Spike.”

“Spike!” Dawn’s shriek nearly burst her eardrums. “Spike’s moving in with us? What about--?”

“What about what, Dawn. I love him. I do. And I want him to live with me. With us.” She looked at her feet, and scuffed her shoe on the sidewalk. “I can’t make any promises to anyone, Dawn. But I don’t want anything to happen to any of us, and that includes you. I want to do the best for all of us. I want us to be happy.”

Dawn lunged, and caught Buffy by surprise. “I will, I will, I promise, I’ll be good, you and Spike, I’m so happy, Buffy, I love you, you’re the best sister….”

“God, Dawnie, take a breath. I take it you’re okay with it then.”

Dawn danced backward, blue eyes electric with excitement. “Oh, yeah, I’m the okayest. I’m Okay Girl. Oh, Buffy, I’m so happy for you!”

“For what?”

“You and Spike, finally. Wow.” The girls started walking again, and Dawn turned to Buffy. “So, tell me everything….” At her sister’s disgusted look, Dawn blushed. “Tell me the PG-13 stuff.”

“I love him Dawn. I don’t know when it started, but I realized that if I don’t actually do something about it, then I’ll lose it. I can’t lose it, Dawnie. I may not get another chance—” Tears welled, but were quickly controlled. “I—don’t know about tomorrow, not anymore. Not since my swan dive, as you called it.”

She sneaked a quick look at the brunette, and was somewhat satisfied to see her flush. “I can’t keep thinking about living as something I’ll get to later, after the slaying is done. I have to live and slay and be grown-up. I’m trying to think of the best ways to do all of them, and this seemed to be one way to do it. Having Spike move in is part of it. The personal relationship part. Having you is the family part. Having Tara is the mother/friend part. Having Giles and Xander and even Anya is the friends part. But Spike’s also part of the slaying, and part of the growing up thing, and part of the living thing. He’s part and parcel of my whole life now, and I just have to combine all the parts to make the whole. My life.”

She turned to look at Dawn, and her heart swelled. From a mystical key to a human teenager to closest to her heart. How did she manage to ignore what was happening with Dawn until it was too little too late? She grabbed Dawn’s hand, and swung them between their walking forms like she remembered /implanted memory/ doing when they were little. She didn’t care about the monks’ invasion anymore. They had given her a precious gift.

“You know, I don’t talk about being in heaven because I don’t want to upset anyone, but for some reason, there’s stuff I want to tell you. Is it all right?”

“Y-yeah, I guess. Like what?”

“I watched. A lot. We had the choice, to watch or not, and I did. I watched you a lot.”

Buffy didn’t miss her sister lowering her head, shame on her face, trying to hide behind her hair. “The stealing has to stop, Dawn. Right now. Before things get out of hand. Some of the stuff we can take back. Some of it we’ll have to pay for. But it stops now. Before it gets out of control.”

“How—?”

“I told you, I watched a lot. And do you really think that there is any stunt you could pull that I haven’t already gotten away with? I saw some of the stuff, and I know where the money sitch is, and knew you didn’t have access to cash. Two and two usually equal four, Dawnie.”

“Okay, it stops. But I want to spend more time with you. I want to patrol with you.”

“Dawn—okay. You’ll train with me and Spike. You’ll patrol only with me and Spike. All right?”

Dawn was jumping up and down before Buffy was done, then turned to her, suspicion written all over her face. “Okay, who are you and what have you done with my sister?”

Buffy started, then shoved her sister lightly. “Smartass.”

“Dumb blonde.”

Linking their arms, they walked together to the house on Revello.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Buffy was hogging the bathroom again. For patrol, of all things.

Dawn was glad that her sister had been able to overcome all the stress and heartache of being ripped from heaven, but the bathroom hogging thing was just a little much. And if she kept it up, Dawn would have to be late for her sleepover with Janice.

She tapped on Willow’s door, and heard a garbled noise from inside. She opened the door to find Willow burying her nose in some of Tara’s clothes, and she crossed the room to pull the redhead into a hug. “Don’t worry, Willow. You’ll be able to put it all back together.”

“I hope so, Dawnie, because I don’t know what I’m gonna do…now….”

Dawn heard the bathroom door finally open, and Buffy waltzed out, looking more like she was dressed for a date than patrol. “Finally,” she breathed. “Buffy, in here.”

Buffy’s heart sank at the sight of Willow in crisis, but remembered that she was part of the cause. Her ignoring the whole Willow/Tara by-play didn’t help any of the situation much.

“Willow. Packing?” Buffy cringed at the tone of her voice, but she knew that Will would need prodding. Help was not something big on the girl’s list.

“Yeah, starting to. Then I found some of Tara’s clothes, and I just stopped.”

“I know.” Buffy stepped closed, and took the clothes out of numb hands. “This is going to help, Will. It’ll help all of us, in the end.”

“I know. I just don’t want to leave with it all up in the air.”

“Then talk to her. Go to her now. Dawn’s going to Janice’s house, you won’t be leaving her here alone. I’m patrolling. Go talk to Tara, tell her your fears. I think I know her answer, but you’ll have to hear it yourself.”

Chapter 5—Never Met A Girl Like You Before

Buffy and Willow left the house at the same time. At the end of the sidewalk, they started to turn in opposite directions, and paused, Buffy wrapping Will in a huge hug.

“Just tell her you’re afraid. Tell her how much you love her. And tell her she’s more important to you than the magic.”

“She is, Buffy, she is. I just hope that she sees that….”

“She will, Willow. You just have to let her see it.”

They parted then, neither one of them looking back.

There was a definite bounce to her step as she walked to Restfield. Tonight they would be moving him in, and tonight she would sleep with him in her arms. Well, maybe sleep after a little while, she thought with a smile. She bounded effortlessly up to the crypt, and opened the door.

His stuff was piled next to the door. A couple of boxes. A suitcase. His duster. He stood across the room, looking at something. She couldn’t tell what it was from here.

Doubtful she would find out, either, since he quickly shoved it away into a small metal box. He brought it over to the pile, shoved it in the top of one of the boxes, and reached for her.

“Hello, kitten. How are you today?”

She smiled, and his heart rolled lazily in his chest. “Wonderful. After I left here, I walked home with Dawnie, and told her about the new living arrangements. She was thrilled. Let out one of those shrieks that makes your ears bleed, jumping up and down.”

She raised her face to his for a kiss, and he was more than happy to oblige. He was hesitant at first, and grew bolder as the moments ticked by, finally deepening the kiss to the passionate busses she had come to expect from him.

When he finally let her go, she was breathless. Desire raged through her, and she raked shaking fingers through her hair, so carefully styled only an hour before, now in a state of disarray. “God, Spike, the things you do….”

He grinned down at her, that cocky grin that always made her throb. “Just doing my duty as official boyfriend, sweetings.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet.” She grinned back at him, and said, “Spike, I told Dawn that we would train her, sometimes let her patrol with us. Is that all right?”

“Why not, pet? Nibblet needs training, it would keep her out of trouble, and if she can dust a vamp and kill a demon, then surely she can protect herself from all the nasties that roam Sunnyhell at night, right? I think it’s a right fine idea.”

“Good. I told her that you would help.”

He looked down at her, skepticism dulling his eyes. “Why me?”

“She trusts you. She respects you, more than she does me. Plus, big factor. You’ve already been training her, haven’t you?”

He looked at the floor, a sheepish expression on his face. “Didn’t want her roaming the streets without a little self-defense training under her belt. And you know she’ll get out, you always did.”

“I know. Anyway, Will’s packing and crying, and I haven’t heard anything from the rest of the gang yet. I probably will, though. Giles and Willow are leaving in two days.”

“We need to throw them a party, love. Send them off to the motherland in the right way.”

“A party! That’s perfect. A cookout in the back yard.” She saw his look, and smiled, adding, “well, late in the afternoon, and at sunset. To accommodate the sunlight challenged.”

“Hey! I could take offense at that.”

“I know, baby, but you won’t.” She picked up the suitcase and one of the boxes. “Can you get the rest?”

“Could have gotten all of it, Buffy. No need….”

“Right, no need. Let’s get this stuff to my house, then go kill something.”

They chatted as they walked, comfortable with each other for once. There was a lull in the conversation, and she took that moment to bring up a very sore subject.

“Spike, sweetheart, you do realize that I will have to make a trip to LA in the next couple of days.”

He was silent, but the vibes that radiated from him wasn’t anger or pain. “Knew that was coming. You have to go talk to the Poof, don’t you?”

She breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that he understood. “Yeah. I don’t want him coming back here and thinking that I’m still sitting around waiting for him. I’m not the girl that fell in love with him, and—well, you saw what he was like when I was dating Riley.”

“That wanker. Yeah, Peaches came and threw a his weight around, didn’t he?”

“He tried. He failed. I told him then, but this time, I think I need to make it a clean break. We both have gone on with our lives without the other. He can’t keep running back here to keep tabs on me. Besides, I don’t want him to. If I wanted that, I would have Daddy check on me and Dawnie.”

“Have you heard anything from your da?”

“No, thank God. I’ve been trying to keep from dealing with all that. When mom died, he was in Spain with his latest fling. So, no daddy stuff for me.”

“He still needs to do his duty as a father. You shouldn’t let him off so easy, pet.”

“I know. But not having him in my life is working out better than having him there. I used to wish that things could have worked out, and he would be a real dad. The last time I went to LA to stay with him, he was gone and I was shopping almost the whole time.”

They turned toward the house, and Spike raised his eyes to the front windows. “Who’s the girl?”

Buffy looked up, and saw the girl he was looking at. “Don’t know. Come on, let’s get in there and go find out.”

They carried the boxes up the stairs and put them in Buffy’s room, then Buffy tapped on the door to Will’s room. “Willow?” She opened the door slowly, and saw Amy sitting in the middle of the bed, a frightened look on her face. “Amy, hi. How have you been?”

“Rat, you?”

“Dead. Willow, what happened?”

“I-I was packing, and I didn’t want to leave Amy here. I started to clean her cage, and while I had her out on the bed, I thought I would check and see if I could metamorph her back. And I did Buffy! I could do it.” Buffy could see how nervous Willow was, and did the only thing she could.

“Spike!”

He poked his head around the doorframe, and Buffy sent him a silent apology with her eyes. “Can you take Amy downstairs and help her find something to eat?”

“Oh, yes, that sounds great. Something to eat. Anything that isn’t cheese flavored.”

Their voices drifted back to them as they left. Buffy closed the door behind them, and said, “Willow Rosenberg, no more magic. Not in this house. Understand?”

Willow looked like she was going to cry. “I’m sorry, Buffy—I know I shouldn’t have. I just…couldn’t help myself.” She buried her face in her hands, and started to cry.

Buffy was resolved that the Willow pity party would not last long this time. “How did your meeting with Tara go?”

Willow brushed her tears away, and her voice shook imperceptibly when she finally was able to answer. “She still loves me. She said she would wait. She just wants me to get better.”

“We all do, Will. Now, you need to pack. I’ll go down and see how Spike and Amy are doing.”

She quickly left the room, and made her way downstairs. Amy and Spike were at the island in the kitchen, and Amy was telling some story about being a rat for so long. She heard Spike say, “Never met anyone who was a rat. Some bloke turned Giles into a Fyarl demon once, now that was a sight, but I thought with transmogrification spells, the mass of the object stayed the same.”

“You know magic? Are you a warlock?”

“No, he’s a vampire.” They both looked at Buffy, who had noticed Amy touching her lover’s hand. “And he’s mine,” she growled.

Amy drew her hand back quickly, and looked nervously at the man across the counter from her. “Vampire, huh?”

“I prefer the phrase sunlight challenged.”

Buffy couldn’t suppress a giggle. “PC terms for the creatures of the night. How—interesting. You ready for patrol, baby?”

“Certainly, pet. Amy, until later?”

She looked nervous again. “Uh, I think that I need to go home. Haven’t been there in—has it really been three years?”

“Yeah. It’s been three years. You know, in all fairness to Will, she tried several times to get you back. She just didn’t have the power to do it. Until recently.”

“Yeah, she told me. She also said she was heading to England?”

“To learn control and balance. Some of the stuff she tries—Amy, it’s almost scary.”

“’S what she said. Well, I’ll see you guys later, then.” Her belly full, Amy headed back upstairs to talk to Willow. Buffy watched her leave, a worried look on her face. “I don’t like this, Spike. We need to keep an eye on those two until Willow finally gets gone.”

“I agree, love. Did you see her face when you talked about Red’s power? Too interested.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist. “God, I love this. Come on. Let’s go slay.”

 What A Girl Wants

Chapter 6—Can’t Fight The Moonlight

Maybe it was a good thing patrol was a bust tonight. Buffy couldn’t concentrate on anything but the way the moon reflected off Spike’s alabaster skin. How the shadows on his face just accentuated his mouth, his cheekbones, his eyes, drawing her to face him, breaking her concentration.

She tossed her stake to the ground in a huff. “I can’t concentrate. All I can think about is you.”

She heard him chuckle. “’S a side effect of the claim, sweetheart. Part and parcel of the package.”

She couldn’t help it, she felt whiny and needy for a minute. “But I wanted to kill something.”

“I know. The lower classes of Sunny D just aren’t cooperating with you tonight.” He ran his finger up her arm, and set her trembling. “Can think of other things to do, if the demons won’t cooperate.”

She caught the look in his eye, and it took her breath away. She didn’t answer, just caught his hand in hers and headed back to the house.

Nobody was home when they got there. Willow and Amy had disappeared somewhere, and Dawn was still out with Tara. Giggling, they pounded up the stairs.

Breathless, they fell into Buffy’s room. They reached for each other, the want closing on frenzy, and their mouths crashing together in a kiss. She cupped his face in her hands, twining her legs in his as she moved them toward the bed.

They tumbled and fell, and she rode him to the floor, her crotch firmly pressed against his. She caught herself on her knees, mindful of his injuries the night before, and he jerked her roughly to him, pressing her against him, needing the pressure of her body for it to be real. Leaning up, she looked at his face. His eyes were tightly shut, bliss effusing him with a glow she’d never seen before.

“Spike, you’re glowing.” She reached out, touched his cheek, and he pressed his face against her palm, a deep rumble vibrating against her belly and lower. His chest pressed against her as he inhaled her scent, and bathed in her presence.

“Love you, pet. Love you so much,” he whispered against her palm.

“I love you, Spike. With all my heart.”

Her hair curtained them in a world of their own, blocking out all sights but the other’s face. She leaned down to press her cheek against his, mouthing silent thanks, then pressed a chaste kiss to his mouth.

“Spike, make love to me. All of you. Spike, William, demon. I need you tonight.”

“My pleasure.” Soft lips caressed her skin, across her cheek to her ear, then down the side of her throat. He paused at the hollow in her collarbone, both to lavish it with soft kisses and push her shirt off her shoulder. Her arms trembled as he worked the buttons open on her shirt, thoroughly exploring every newly bared inch. He cupped her breast through her shirt, nipples hardening eagerly under his palms. He spread the sides of her shirt open, his hands hovering over her ribs as he memorized her beauty. She took a deep breath, and his hands cupped her sides, sending ripples of gooseflesh across her body from head to toe and back again.

That made him smile, and changed his entire face. He looked almost boyish in his pleasure, and her heart filliped in her chest at the years that a soul and relationship with her could add to him. She had to make this good, make it work, just to see more smiles like that on that beautiful man’s face.

Thought and coherency deserted her when his mouth encircled one erect nipple. Delicious coolness surrounded her, and she arched her back to press herself into his mouth. He traced complex patterns on her skin, acquainting himself with all of her this time. He undid her pants, skinning them off of her body, and exposing her ass to the moonlight and the cool night air. She threw her head back, gasping, as he gripped globes that were perfectly fitted for his hands, and looked back down at him as he grabbed her hips and ground their crotches together. Heat rose off of her in waves, and he wanted inside her to burn, burn like nothing ever before.

Without warning, there was urgency in his movements as he somehow got them both on the bed. He removed her clothes, what she hadn’t stripped off when he lifted her in his arms, and yanked his shirt over his head and jeans down as he stared at her, determined and unblinking. She leaned up on her elbows and watched him, loving his impatience, feeling his need, wanting him to hurry and close the distance.

Spike crawled up the bed and over her body, muscles rippling. She thought how much he resembled a panther, all sinew and muscle, nostrils flaring as he caught her scent, her arousal perfuming the air. If anything he moved slower.

He scented over her belly, pausing above silky light brown curls, then on up, to her chest, her neck, and finally her mouth. Motionless, he breathed in her sweet breath and lush, intoxicating scent. She reached up with her mouth, and gently pressed her lips to his. He growled deep in his chest, and she saw something elusive flash through his eyes.

“It’s the demon, pet. Recognizing you as mate. Memorizing your scent. So I don’t hurt the girl. Never hurt the girl.”

She wound her arms around his neck, and pulled him down to her. “You won’t hurt the girl, Spike. You love the girl.”

“Love the girl. Love you Buffy. Always have loved you.”

“I know, baby. I know. I love you. Enough talk. More kissage.”

She barely moved her mouth to find his. Lips parted, she tasted the tangy combination of flavors that was him. Tobacco, leather, copper, and whiskey added whispers of mystery to his scent, and she breathed deeply to capture it in her mind. His tongue prodded gently into her mouth, skimming across her teeth as he sought surcease deeper inside of her.

She groaned and wound her hands in his hair, raking it loose until it fell in ringlets all over his head. Then he nipped the peak he’d sipped from earlier, and she fisted her hands at the side of his head, holding him in place. He lavished his complete attention on her breasts, mouth and teeth and tongue and hands, as she twitched with every brush of his mouth or fingers. He pried her hands out of his hair and held them straight out to the sides. Raising his head, he swept his tongue across her mouth, her lips parting as she whispered his name.

“Spike, I need you inside me. I’m burning up, lover. Burning up.”

He kneed her legs apart, and seated himself into the apex of her thighs, his erection pressed against her, coating himself in her juices. Her slick passage called to him with a siren song of heartbeats and bloodsong as he rested above her. He wanted every moment with her tonight to implant itself in his memory; something to take out and reminisce over when they were together in future times.

Leaning up on his elbows and knees, he encircled his cock with his hand, teasing her folds slippery with silky juices and heated with passion. Her gasps turned into long, low moans that vibrated them both. He fitted himself into the opening to her body, then entered her slowly, slipping inside inch by inch with her every intake of breath. When he was completely inside her, filling her, she looked at him with wide green eyes.

“So—much….”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, pet.” He smiled down into her face, and watched as his chuckle sent more gooseflesh dancing patterns over her skin. “So tight, Buffy. So beautiful. I have waited a lifetime and an unlifetime to feel this with you.”

“Yours, please—just touch me. Just love me.” She sighed gratefully as he began moving slowly inside her. She began moving against him, craving friction, and he swiveled his hips, arching into her to provide that which she craved. She loved the sensation of his chilled flesh against her heated skin, loved the way he felt inside her as he moved.

He began building her slowly to her peak, the slightest movement throwing her closer and closer. Her head drifted weakly on the mattress, side to side, denying herself the chance to relax. Her muscles grew taut, straining for release, and she burned, so hot, so hot—she gritted her teeth, trying not to let go, wanting to wait for him, but her body was too hypersensitive and the explosions came anyway, her orgasm rolling her over like a wave. It stole her breath with its intensity.

Her body bowed under the force of her climax, her mouth a rictus of pleasure. Her pussy spasmed wildly around him muscles rippling across his cock, holding him within her and impeding his movements for long stretches.

She wrapped her legs around the back of his calves, her arms around his neck. “More.” Then she threw them, and they rolled and stopped with her on top. She sat up on her knees, his cock firmly ensconced inside her slickness, and she rotated her hips, moving against him slowly, her hips undulating even as her muscled walls gripped him inside her.

She was magnificent above him, golden skin and golden hair silvering in the moonlight. She raked her nails over his flat nipples, then pinched them lightly between her satiny fingertips until they were hardened like hers. She loved touching him, watching his face while she twisted her body on top of him, every emotion plainly etched on his features. He didn’t disappoint her. She watched him pass from awe to wonder to love, through a kaleidoscope of the myriad of feelings in between.

She became selfish, wanting all of him, and she reached behind her to grasp his balls in her palm, gently rolling them in her hand while she pulled tight the looser skin behind. He growled, and gripped her hips hard enough to bruise, but didn’t stop her explorations as she rocked over him. His legs fell open, and she slipped her hand beneath him to run her fingers between the contours of his buttocks to more tender places. He tensed slightly, she paused; he relaxed, and she continued, careful to use a gentle touch until he was comfortable again.

Rocking back, she pulled him to a sitting position, then clasped her legs around his waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and brought him face to face with her. She smiled, touched by the look of utter adoration in his eyes. She moved again, Slayer muscles working furiously inside her. She ground her mouth against his, her tongue working between his lips, hand still behind her on his scrotum.

She kissed across his cheek to his ear, and traced the bell with her pointy tongue, then started whispering dirties to him. Her scent surrounding him, her body surrounding him as well, now her voice, sultry and suggestive, sending shivers down his spine—he was close to a stimulus overload, and he knew she was aware of what she was doing to him. Making memories to last, taking mental pictures of each other in every way possible.

She was close too, so close to another explosion. She whispered, he changed, growing yet again inside her until she worried her tender regions would split from pressure. Then she felt his teeth nipping at her neck, barely scraping over the skin, and she raised his head again to stare his demon in the eye. Golden and green eyes locked together, understanding of the other in both, and she closed her eyes and kissed him, swirling her tongue around and over each elongated incisor, lightly touching the tips. He showed amazing restraint over his demon for which she was grateful and proud.

She led him back to her neck and increased the pressure on his cock. Concentration wrinkling her nose, thighs trembling, she used full Slayer strength and control to flutter her muscles rapidly, rippling the length of him repeatedly. He could smell the musk of arousal and sex, her impending orgasm, her essence, her blood, and when she whispered again, he was more than happy to comply.

Golden skin, satiny silk under his lips, split willingly under his teeth, and the ambrosia of her spilled across his tongue, exploding in his brain and triggering his release. She writhed her hips and went over the edge with him, each pull on her neck looping back to her pulsating clit and throbbing pussy, tightening her grip around him and bringing him with her again.

When his third orgasm hit him, he threw his head back, game face slipping away in the tumultuous wave of emotions that overtook his entire being. She glowed with her love for him, her eyes tender on him as she watched his pleasure through her own haze. He clutched her to him, burying his face in the soft skin between her breasts, trembling.

“Oh, I love you so, Buffy.”

“I love you, my Spike…my William.” She stopped moving and smiled as he panted unnecessarily to catch his breath. It’s the little things, she thought, and ran her hand across his forehead and down his cheekbone. “You are so beautiful.”

“Not beautiful.”

“Yes. Beautiful. Sexy. Wonderful. Mine.”

She moved off of him, and he flopped back onto the mattress, his limbs paralyzed. She curled up next to him, her head pillowed on his shoulder, and she closed her eyes, listening to the burr deep in his chest. “You’re purring.”

“Mmm?”

“Purring. Like a cat. When did you start purring?”

“Dunno, pet. Why?”

“I’ve just never heard you purr is all.”

His body rose and fell under her head as he chuckled. She raised her head and looked him in the eye. “I like it when you laugh. I love it when you smile. I hope you do more of it.”

He looked down at her tenderly. “Love you, Buffy. Can’t help but be happy to be here, in your arms. It’s a bleeding dream come true. Never thought—“

He stopped himself, and smiled down at her. “You make me smile, kitten. Always a surprise with you. What was that, a minute ago?”

“Practice. And you know what they say. Practice makes perfect.”

“Guess that means we’ll have to practice some more.”

She grinned. “I was hoping you would say that.”

What A Girl Wants

Chapter 7—Carefully Spoken Words

Dawn and Tara arrived at the house around midnight. Buffy’s door was closed; Willow’s door was open, her bed empty. When they tried Buffy’s door, it was locked, and for a second they thought they heard whispers inside, but a closer listen revealed nothing. The girls decided to go downstairs to grab a snack and watch a movie.

The occupants of the room breathed a sigh of relief. Spike had her on her knees and elbows, reaming slowly in and out of her heat. Each thrust grazed her nipples against the sheets, short pants huffing out of her mouth as she tried to be quiet. He angled down into her, and his cockhead rubbed anew on the bundles of nerve endings deep inside her, and Buffy bunched the sheets in her fists and shoved them in her mouth to stifle the screams threatening to erupt from her lungs.

She kept thinking that at some point she would start to feel sore or tired, but each orgasm seemingly rejuvenated them, rekindling their passions anew as they touched. She wondered what Spike would think if he knew he had made her come more times tonight than Riley did the entire time he’d slept with her. She justly decided that was not a topic, because, who cared about Captain Cardboard anyway. He was the past, this was her happy future, and she couldn’t wait to live it.

He reached beneath her and found her clit with his fingers, and she twisted beneath him, wave after wave of sensation rolling over her as she crashed into the edge again. His cool spendings quenched her fires somewhat as he drove deep into her, close behind her, and he shuddered and laid his head on her back, the beating of her heart lulling him, making him quiescent.

She looked over her shoulder at him, and grinned. “So, should we go downstairs?”

“Could reload—with fluids, I mean. Getting kind of parched.”

“Me too. And I have other body functions that need attended to. So, do we boldly go downstairs, or do we climb out the window and come in through the door.”

“Discretion, pet. Through the front door. Don’t want them to think they disturbed us, or interrupted anything. I mean, we are talking teenage hormone bomb and shy little loverwicca, right?”

“Yeah. Okay.” She pulled her clothes on, grabbed her shoes, and groaned at the sight of her hair. “And it was so cute earlier.”

“Still beautiful, pet.” She looked over, and he was fully dressed, hips cocked forward in the usual stance where he stood by the window. She shook herself out of her dazed musings, and went to join him, then ran back and quietly clicked the lock open on her door.

“Gotta be able to get in later, right?” She said, then climbed out the window and down the tree. He was right behind her, and together they climbed the porch stairs. They were laughing when they came through the door, and felt the eyes of the girls on the couch boring through them.

“Hey Dawnie, Tara. How was the movie?”

“Good. Funny. How was patrol?” Dawn replied around a mouthful of popcorn.

“Boring.” Buffy flopped down into the chair, and Spike settled himself on the floor at her knee. She played with his curls absentmindedly, drawing Dawn’s attention to his hair.

“Love the ‘do, Spike. Trying something new? Planning on keeping it?”

If he could have, he would have blushed. “Uh, your sister likes it.”

“O-oh, I do to. It makes you look younger,” Tara said, nodding.

“That’s exactly what I thought, Tara.” Buffy tousled the curls affectionately, and he grimaced.

“Oi, vampire. Evil, and forever young. I’ll have you know that I was turned at the prime of my life, for that era.”

“How old?”

Spike looked at Dawn, her question not registering. “Beg pardon?”

“How old were you when you were turned?”

“Er—twenty-eight.”

“That’s the prime?” Dawn laughed, and Buffy joined her when she realized her sister was teasing him. Spike growled, then laughed good-naturedly when he realized the joke was on him. Still, he felt the need to defend his honor.

“I’ll have you know, I’m one of the youngest vampires to go from fledgling to master. I was only twenty years undead when I did it.”

“The one in China?” Buffy asked.

“The same. It took Angelus years before he ever was more than a fledge. Same for Dru, but only because of her insanity. Angelus wouldn’t allow her far enough away from him for her to really grow in power, till the visions and the thrall.” He looked around at the rapt faces, and said, “I don’t want to bore you.”

“You’re not boring us, Spike. You’re bringing it to life for us. I mean, all the things you’ve done, the places you’ve been—that alone is fantastic.” Buffy tilted her head, and Tara thought how much it looked like one of Spike’s gestures. “Giles would be fascinated by this. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, and someday I might share it with him. Depends on how long he leaves me undusted.”

Tara shook her head. “Oh, I don’t think he’ll be dusting you. Um, Buffy made it pretty clear to everyone at the shop this morning. I was proud of her for standing up for herself finally.”

Buffy smiled warmly at Tara. “I think that we’ve both done a lot of growing up lately. All of us.”

There was a knock at the door, and all heads turned that way. Buffy got up to answer it, and found Xander and Anya standing on the porch.

“Can we come in?”

Buffy backed up, and let the couple in the door. They waited for her, and she led them into the living room. They sat on the couch with Dawn and Tara, with Buffy and Spike across from them.

Xander looked nervous. Moreso, he looked upset. They waited patiently, until the dam finally burst.

“Buffy, Spike—Anya and I have spent the day talking about, uh, what you talked about earlier at the Magic Box. She’s, uh, showed me the way I’ve been thinking and behaving, and….” He trailed off, then focused on Spike.

“Man, you’ve always been handy for me to blame for anything. Even just my own daily irritations I took out on you. Buffy’s my best friend, okay, one of them, and she means so much to me on so many levels, man. I just don’t want to see her hurt, and you’re still a vampire without a soul. But you have helped me, saved my ass quite a few times last summer, and I still treated you like something I would wipe off my shoe. But you never stopped. Even though Buffy wasn’t here to impress, you never stopped. You took the abuse, you took Dawn in hand, you kept patrolling with us, and you kept coming back for more.”

Xander looked at the floor, and then looked back up at Spike. “I was wrong. I was wrong about you, and I owe you, more than you know. There’s no way in hell I can make it up to you, ever. Buffy loves you, and to have her in my life, I have to have you too. And I can get used to that. Hell, I’m already used to it, despite the comments. Truce?”

Spike knew how much it took for Xander to say those words in front of this crowd. He’d lived with the bloke, after all, and sometimes things discussed in darkness never saw the light of day. The gesture touched him, and there was no hesitation in his voice. “Truce, Xander. Friends?”

Spike got to his knees to extend his hand, and a very surprised Xander accepted his handshake. The girls sniffed, and even Anya looked a little misty. “Too happy to hold a grudge, Xander. I love Buffy, Buffy loves me and all’s right with the world.”

“That was, like, so cool of the two of you. Years of burning hatred and animosity, shaken away with your handshake—“

“That’s more than enough, Bit.”

“Don’t push it, Dawnie. It’ll take some getting used to, but hey, we can still bash Angel, right?”

“Angel.” Buffy looked at her friends, and looked pointedly at Spike. “I’m gonna have to go down to LA in a couple of days. Volunteers for Dawn Duty?”

“I’ll stay here with the Bit. After the barbecue?”

“Yeah.”

“Glinda will likely need help moving back in.”

“Yeah. Tara, will my room be okay? I thought, since Spike was the only guy….”

“Bathroom arrangements. Yes, Buffy, that’s fine with me.”

“Yeah, I don’t want to run into Spike naked, that’s for sure. Scar me for life.”

Spike flopped his hand at Xander. “Tickle the bit for me, mate, I’m too tired to get up and take out after her. Easy on the screeches, though—they make my ears bleed.”

They laughed at Xander’s attempts at tickling Dawn, then Buffy looked at the clock. “I wonder where Will is? It’s after one in the morning.”

“She could be at the Bronze with Amy.”

“A-amy? Amy the rat?” Tara blanched, and Spike cursed his loose tongue.

“Don’t worry, Glinda.”

“It was one of the loose ends that Will wanted to tie up before she left. The last one. I told her, no more magic in this house. That doesn’t apply to you, Tara.”

“What about me?”

“You have too much homework to study magic too. And train with me and Spike. And other stuff.”

Buffy didn’t need to remind her what the other stuff was. The stolen stuff. “Okay.”

“M-maybe I could teach her some simple stuff. A glamour. A find-your-way spell. Stuff that could be useful to her, if she needs it.”

Buffy looked at the hope in her sister’s eyes, and decided not to quash her potential. “Okay. Simple stuff.” A yawn caught her by surprise, and she stretched her arms over her head, then wrapped them around Spike’s neck. “Time for bed for Slayers and slayees. Come on, love, let’s go nighty-night.”

She stood, pulling Spike to his feet, and they headed up to their room. Dawn’s voice, then eager footsteps followed them up the stairs. “Buffy, your room was locked, how you….” She watched, amazed, as Buffy turned the knob and the door opened, then shot a grin over Spike’s shoulder at her little sister.

“How did you—? Oh, I so need a room with roof and tree access!” Dawn flew down the stairs, oblivious to the giggles from behind the door.

What A Girl Wants

Chapter 8—Touch Me In The Morning

She couldn’t remember ever having such an erotic dream. She was in her bed, in her room, and Spike was there. He was touching her gently, worshipping her body with his eyes, mouth, and hands, and she was powerless to resist his sinister attraction. She felt so alive, so loved and wanted, and she bloomed under his touch, folding open and laying wanton and lax beneath him. He was everywhere, surrounding her; every breath carried his scent to her brain.

She tried to move, and the blankets were too heavy. Kicking out, she was still unable to dislodge herself from captivity, and she opened one eye to find out why. She looked down, and saw herself sprawled beneath him, her legs pinned open by his arms, his face inches from her pussy as he studied it intently.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking. Smelling. Tasting. All good, baby, let me tell you.” He looked down at the multihued petals of her sex, and she flushed. “Cor, Buffy, you’re beautiful. Everywhere, pet.”

His tongue swiped roughly across the outer lips framing her inner secrets, and she groaned aloud, her hips pumping upward of their own accord. She glanced at the clock, and had to look twice before she pushed on his forehead. “It’s ten…Dawn…school….”

“Nibblet’s already at school, love, with a hearty breakfast and strict admonitions. You needed the sleep.” He swiped at her again, gratified by her responsive reaction. “Now, I think you need this.”

She groaned again, and he touched her reverently, his eyes drinking the sight of her juices as they began to ooze from her opening. A single deep breath and he was completely lost, drowning in her.

He nuzzled her open to him, and gently sucked on the inner lips, delicately taking each one in his mouth as he gauged her reaction. She opened even further, urging him silently to taste of the bounty before him.

He did so with alacrity, touching his tongue’s tip to the hard nub at the top of her folds, then moving downward to lick the juices that now poured from her. His tongue reached inside her to lap the juices from within, then moved outside again to bury his face, his nose bumping against her clit as he laved her from bottom to top. She spasmed against his mouth, her thighs shaking, and although he knew that she couldn’t be close to her peak yet, he backed off, wanting this moment, this morning together to last.

His exploration was thorough, and she threw her head back with a shuddering gasp as he swirled his tongue around her little nubbin of nerves. Tremors rippled her body as he alternated between quick flicks of his tongue and long, slow draws on her clit. Her arousal coated his face—it amazed him how wet she could get, how much lubrication she produced. He’d never seen anything like it before.

Her soft mewls of delight filled his head as he sucked her tender flesh into his mouth, massaging the shaft of her clit with the flat of his tongue as he raked it against his palate. She made a haphazard grab at his head, and he took her wrists on either side and tucked them under her ass. “You’ll be keeping those there, kitten.” She moaned, and he renewed his assault on her sex, flicking his tongue rapidly.

When she started hunching her hips to meet his eager mouth, he decided to change the tune they were dancing to, and slipped two fingers inside her heated tunnel. Her body arched and she threw her head back, a wordless shriek discharging from her open mouth. He caressed her golden skin with his free hand, reaching up to twist her nipples gently, then harder as her juices flowed more copiously with every stimulus. He found the bundle of nerves inside her and raked them with his knuckles, and her heels drummed violently on the bed on either side of him.

She was close; he knew from her responses and years of experience how close she was. It radiated from her, the tension in her body pulling so tight he thought she would snap under the pressure. An evil thought entered his mind, and he withdrew the fingers buried inside her, then inserted a single digit into her tight sphincter, raising his eyes in time to see her bowed double on the bed. Gasping shrieks of rapture dragged themselves effortlessly from her vocal cords, and her orgasm thundered through her. He was shocked when her juices began jetting out of her, much like a man’s come, and placed his lips over her entrance to catch as much of them as possible in his mouth.

She reached down, and dragged him up and on top of her, her mouth seeking his. His cool kisses were like water after a drought, and she drank him down, tasting her own essence and not at all perturbed. He released her long enough for her to catch her breath, smiling down at the hunger in her eyes.

“How—what—oh, my God, Spike, where did you learn to do that?”

A quiet laugh rumbled deep in his chest. “I’ve had some years to practice, princess. How do you think I learned?”

“But, the knuckle—and the finger in my—what?” She looked at him watching her, amusement on his face. She trembled in his arms, mini-shocks still reverberating through her, when his next comment made her still.

“Never told me you were a rainmaker, pet.”

She turned confused eyes up to his face. “What’s a rainmaker?”

She could tell he was flustered. He avoided her gaze, and mumbled something under his breath.

“I didn’t hear you.”

“Comes—spurts juices out of their, uh, vagina.”

She blushed from head to toe. “I’m, uh, one of those? How do you know?”

“Trust me, pet, I know. Seen it before one other time, in Mexico. Woman could jet three feet in the air. And what she could do with a stack of pesos would blow your mind.”

“Huh?”

“Nevermind, pet. Let’s just say that rainmakers are pretty rare. Everything about you is rare and special. You’re unique, Buffy. Unique, and all mine.”

She curled up in his arms, and raised her face to his. “Yours, all right. Especially if I get woke up like that all the time—yum.” She raised her mouth for his kiss, a demand he eagerly gratified. “So, what to do today, lover?”

He smiled tenderly into her face, loving the new sense of warmth and belonging he was feeling. “Well, love, the way I see it, we need to look at food for the barbecue, soundproofing whichever room we end up in, and linens.”

“Linens?”

“You know, sheets and pillowcases. I am not sleeping on sheets with little rainbows on them. Evil, remember?”

She giggled. “Like you would ever let me forget. How can we soundproof a room?”

“I think that Xander would be the one to ask, don’t you? In the building biz, anyway, he’s got to have some connections.”

She flopped back onto the bed. “I need to go out and get a job.”

He leaned up on his elbow, and looked down at her. “No, actually you don’t, baby. I have money.”

“What?”

“I have money. Quite a bit of it, anyway. My family…wasn’t well off, but we had some assets. When my mum died, well, I was already dead, but our family retainers continued to build the family fortunes. Investment capital and all. When I finally did look into it, there was a nice little nest egg. I’ve continued investing through the years, and now…if you don’t want a job, then you really don’t have to get one. Anyway, isn’t slaying your job?”

“I think—I can do without a job. But I’m willing to work.”

He picked up her hand, and kissed the palm. “I understand, pet. I don’t want you to work. You’re mine. Your only job is slaying, and making me the happiest vampire on the planet.”

She snuggled against him, smiling. “I think that I could do that. Really, I don’t have to go to work?”

“Just stay home with me and the Bit.”

“What about the necessities? House payments. Bills. Food and blood. We have to pay for all those things.”

“Baby, I paid off the house the summer after you died.”

She looked at him over her shoulder.

“I’ve also set up accounts for you and Dawn. Although, I don’t think the Bit needs to know that yet.”

“Probably not, unless you want to take her shopping.”

“So, we have all the necessities. Food, shelter, love, and each other. Is that enough?”

She brushed his mouth with a kiss. “More than enough. More than I could have ever dreamed.”
What A Girl Wants

Chapter 9—Hazy Shade Of Criminal

Buffy had one thing left she felt she had to set right, before it all blew up in their faces.

She trembled under the thrall of the memories. She didn’t want Tara, lovely Tara, to die. If she didn’t stop the Evil Trio, no matter what happened between now and whenever wouldn’t matter. Tara would be dead, and she would feel responsible again. She knew that to change this, she would have to be menacing and convincing, and she was hoping that it would work.

She walked boldly up to the door, and banged on it loudly. Shrill screams came from the basement windows of the house, loud bangs following it, and she knew she was in the right place.

“Warren! Jonathan! Andrew! Get your bony asses out here, right now.”

Jonathan came out first, closely followed by Andrew. “Uh, Buffy—haven’t seen you since the senior prom. And that bad spell.”

“Yeah, Jonathan. That bad spell. You’ve been doing other bad spells, haven’t you? And Andrew—calling up demons to do your dirty work. Where is that jerk Warren?”

“Behind you, Slayer.” He actually tried to put his hands on her, but a couple of well-placed kicks and an elbow to the nose put him on the ground instead.

“Okay, boys, now that we’re all together. I have something I want you to watch.”

She held a glowing ball in her hand, and it shot three beams of light to the trio’s foreheads. To them, this would be real. She stood, and watched the horror on their faces, the fear in their eyes, and finally the dawning realization that their plans failed. Miserably.

When the time loop finished, they stood there panting. Andrew had a huge wet spot on his jeans. Jonathan was still sniffing.

“So, you see what path you have created for yourself? Warren, you die. Horribly. Your skin stripped from you. Jonathan, you die, sacrificed to open a dimensional portal that should remain closed forever. Andrew, you don’t die—you just become my hostage.”

“But the invisible ray—” Jonathan started.

“Is a bust. It disintegrates everything it makes invisible, a complete molecular degeneration. Guys, there is no easy way to do this. If you don’t stop on your own, I will have to. And when the time comes, I will help Willow hunt you down and make you her own little black magic toys. Got it?” She moved closer to them, and said, “You really don’t think that I would show you this and let you continue? You destroyed other lives beside your own. Productive happy lives. Your families. Your friends. Everyone around you. In the end, Sunnydale itself is destroyed. Because you messed with the wrong things.”

She could feel Warren tensing, and pivoted smartly, avoiding his grabby hands. “I wouldn’t. Not if you know what’s good for you.”

“You’re just a girl,” Warren sneered.

“No, I wish I was just a girl. I’m the Slayer. I will be the Slayer until I die. You will be dust, long before I’m even close.” She turned to Jonathan and Andrew. “Boys, as for you, I have an idea….”

Later, when she returned to the house on Revello, she met Spike and Willow in the living room, discussing the trip. Spike was giving Willow tips on places to visit in London, and she was jotting notes in one of her multitude of notebooks.

“Hey. I have two more passengers for the trip to England.”

Spike quirked an eyebrow at her expectantly.

“Jonathan needs to be properly trained in magic, before it blows up in his face. Andrew is going with Giles to the Watcher Council for training to be a Watcher.”

“Who are they, pet?”

“Just the little nerds that have been making my life, and everyone else’s miserable. Warren—he won’t follow any of my suggestions. I expect he’ll be leaving town, though.”

“Warren? The robot guy?”

“Yeah.” She shot a dirty look at Spike. “He’s gone beyond robots though. I suggested he get a government job, in research, but he snarled at me and told me to get fucked. So here I am, ready for it.” She turned to Spike, and smiled, her face sunny once again. “So, how are the plans for the barbecue going?”

“Food will be delivered tomorrow morning. Liquor tomorrow afternoon. We’ll decorate the yard tonight, and then it will all be done and ready for the festivities.”

Willow looked at Spike, a strange look in her eyes. “Spike, uh, can I ask you something?”

“Anything, Red. No secrets here.”

“Is your accent changing? Because, I could swear that you’re sounding more like Giles every day.”

He ducked his head, avoiding the scrutiny of the two, but finally decided to be forthright and give them what they needed to hear. “’M not the Big Bad anymore, don’t need the accent.”

“Well, you’re right about not needing the accent, but you’ll always be my Big Bad, Spike.” Buffy grinned widely. “You can always slip into it, when we’re, uh….”

Willow slipped her fingers in her ears, not wanting the details.

What A Girl Wants

Chapter 10—Dancing With Danger

The back yard was gorgeous by the time they finished with it. Fairy lights wound through the branches of the trees and bushes, torches lined the path to the main barbecue area, and there were streamers wound through the fences, dangling from the trees, and draped anywhere that Buffy could find to drape them.

She looked at Spike, who was climbing down from one of the taller trees. “Do you think we need more?”

“More what, love? There’s no room to fit any more in.”

“More lights, Spike. There’s the back porch….”

“Love, enough for tonight. I’m gonna have a hell of a time getting tree sap out of my clothes.”

“I’ll take care of it.” She wrapped her arms around him, and snuggled close to him. “Come on, we both need a shower.”

He quirked his eyebrow at the seductive sway of her hips as she moved toward the house, then looked over her shoulder to see if he was watching her.

He took off at a dead run, eager to catch up.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The day dawned bright and beautiful, and promised to stay that way.

Buffy stretched then snuggled next to the naked vampire sleeping next to her. She wondered what he would say if she told him that he actually snored sometimes, then shook her head, amused.

She mentally went over the tasks for the day, and came up with the conclusion that she could sleep for a couple more hours. Xander was already there; she could hear him humming in the yard, setting up the barbecue pit. He could take the food delivery, maybe even the liquor delivery, if she was still asleep.

There was a gnawing dread in her stomach. She knew that she shouldn’t ignore it, but things were turning out so well, she didn’t want to spoil the day. Or the party tonight.

Curling herself against him, she rooted closer to Spike, and let her mind drift, falling back to sleep in minutes.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Spike! William! Will you get up?”

“Been up for an hour, watching you primp. Very nice undies, baby.”

She looked over her shoulder at the lazy vampire. “You can take them off me later. Go, get in the shower. And leave your hair curly tonight, you know I like it like that.”

Grumbling, he dragged himself from her bed, leaving her heavenly essences behind, and stepped out into the hallway. And came face to face with Willow and Tara. They let out a shriek and covered their eyes, and he jumped back into Buffy’s room, slamming the door behind them.

“That’s what you get for not using your robe. Come on, now, get going. Our guests will be here in an hour.”

“Not guests. As much as they’re here, they ought to pay rent.”

He snatched the robe from the back of the door, belted it in place, and opened the door, where Willow and Tara still stood. “Sorry, birds. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

They gawked at him, silent. Spike, apologizing?

As soon as the bathroom door closed behind him, they jumped on Buffy, giggling. “We saw Spike’s spike,” Willow giggled.

“That was…impressive.”

Buffy turned to them, grinning. “I know. And the things he can do with it….”

“TMI—TMI!” Both girls covered their ears, although Buffy wasn’t going to share any more info. If they wanted to know, let them get their own vampire.

“Go get ready. Do I have to police everyone around here today?”

The girls left, and Dawn popped her head in. “The liquor’s here. They need someone of drinking age to sign for it. That wouldn’t be me.”

“’Kay. Be right down.” Buffy slipped her robe on, and headed down the stairs. She signed for the alcohol, then looked to see how much alcohol there actually was.

Cases. Cases of tequila, cases of whiskey, cases of beer—who was partying here, all of the hair bands from the eighties? No, Spike. She pressed her lips together. Spike ordered all this. She poked around, even finding vodka, rum, and a couple of cases of mixers. In an open-topped box were a variety of liqueurs and cordials.

She walked through the new liquor storeroom in the dining room to the kitchen. Wrapped packages of meat lay on the counter. Enough vegetables to start their own restaurant or roadside stand were on the island. She opened the refrigerator door, and all she saw was mountains and mountains of food.

Buffy climbed the stairs, shaking her head. She had seen bars that weren’t as well stocked as her house. Oh, well, she thought. It’s a little thing. Not a biggie. No fighting unless it’s a biggie. Anyway, he would probably drink all that garbage. Drinking and Buffy were un-mixy things. She talked too much, got too uninhibited, and threw up too much afterward.

Spike was in the bedroom, toweling off, when she reentered. “Overboard much, baby?”

“What?” he said, looking over his shoulder. She paused to admire the taper of his shoulders to his tight, muscular ass, and said, “The alcohol is here. So is the food. So, what army are we feeding and getting drunk?”

He had the grace to look embarrassed. “My girls deserve the best, and they’re gonna get it. Don’t want you worrying anymore is all.”

She walked over to him, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You don’t know how much I love you, do you? I love you, so very much.”

They were locked in a deep, soul-searching kiss when Dawn opened the door. “My eyes! My eyes!” she said from the doorway.

Buffy turned. “If you would learn to knock. And I was standing in front of him anyway. You couldn’t have seen anything.”

“I didn’t. It’s just a game that me and Spike play.” Dawn grinned, and Buffy gave her a pointed look. “Oh, I wanted to tell you that some of the guests have arrived.”

“Okay, Bit. We’ll be down in a minute.”

They both heard her muttering through the doorway. “Not if you’re gonna do it. Takes you guys all night, and then nobody gets any sleep.”

Buffy turned back to Spike. “Okay, you talk to Xander tonight about soundproofing, and I’ll ask Tara for a sound-dampening spell. Let’s get dressed.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They actually made it downstairs in record time, and went into the back yard.

Xander was standing over the barbecue pit, cursing and spluttering. The iceman must have come, because there were tubs of ice everywhere, with soft drinks and beer cooling in them. An assortment of liquor was lined up with sodas and a variety of mixers, over on one of the long tables, and Willow and Tara were there, mixing themselves a drink. Dawn was trying to convince them to let her have one too, but Buffy could tell by the stern look on the witches’ faces that she wouldn’t have to intervene there.

She heard a noise behind her, and Giles was there, with two of the invited guests in tow, holding them by the scruff of their necks.

“I found these two outside, arguing. Do you know them, Buffy?”

“Actually, yeah, Giles. Jonathan, from Sunnydale High, and Andrew, Tucker’s brother. They’re both going with you to England tomorrow.”

“Are they? Pray tell, when were you going to inform me of this?”

“I am informing you. Now. Jonathan needs training, just like Willow does. He actually does have quite a bit of power, just needs some positive focus. Andrew—Giles, I want you to take him to the Watcher’s Council. Pull a few strings, get him some Watcher training.”

“Buffy! It takes years…”

“Not for me. Already spoke to Quentin. He’s expected.”

“I see.” Giles let the two boys go, then turned to Spike. “Good afternoon, Spike.”

“Hello, Rupert. Get you a Guinness?”

“That would be marvelous.” The two men walked away together, in the shady spots of the yard.

Buffy turned to two of the Evil Trio. “You know, I fully expect Warren will be here at some point. Stay on your toes.”

Jonathan started, “Oh, I don’t think….”

“Yes, he will. Trust me, guys. He’s not the nice guy you think. Now, go grab some snacks and drinks, and make nice with the others. I’ve got something I have to do.”

She went into the house, and picked up the phone. “Sunnydale Police?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The party was in full swing. Xander had managed to burn half of the meat, and leave the other half-raw, but other than that little tick, everyone was having a great time.

Except Buffy. She was waiting for the other shoe to drop. She didn’t wait much longer.

Warren appeared around the edge of the fence, taking in the sight of his nerdy friends having a good time with the Slayer and her bunch of freaks. Why were they there, anyway? He’d expected them to leave town, after they packed up their stuff and moved out of the basement yesterday. And what were they doing here, of all places? He was way cooler than they were, and they were here, with him on the outside again.

Rage fuelled his actions, and the moment Buffy was waiting for finally happened. He raised the gun, pointing it at her, insanity tingeing his voice with desperation. “You think that you could do that to me, and I would let you? You busted up my gang, ruined my life, and you think that you can do that, because you’re the Slayer?”

“No, Warren, I think I can do that because what you did, and what you were going to do—it’s wrong. Your friends knew that it was wrong. Lying, cheating, stealing, manipulating people—all wrong, Warren.”

“You—you bitch! I’ll show you—” He cocked the gun, his hand shaking. The crowd of people was frozen, and to her horror, Buffy saw that Tara was directly in the line of fire, as was Dawn and Willow.

Willow looked at the gun, where it was pointed, and at whom, and decided to make a move. “Immobile!” She shouted, extending her hand, and Warren froze, unable to move. The police officers came around the side of the house, and Buffy motioned to the statue at the edge of her back yard.

“There he is, officers. You’ll find everything you need at his house. Willow, you can let him go now.”

They all watched Warren as he was cuffed and escorted out of the yard. When it was all over, Buffy slumped into the chair behind her, and the tears finally fell.

Spike stepped over to her, and picked her up, hauling her into the house and up the stairs to their room. He looked at her closely, and finding no trauma, sat down to wait for the fallout.

When she finally stopped crying, Spike was still there, holding her securely in his lap, smoothing her hair.

She stayed there, secure in his arms, and he looked down at her pale face.

“So, you want to tell me who you are now, and what’s going on?” he asked.


 

Challenge Rules
Name: redwulf50
Email: redwulf50@hotmail.com
Seasons: season 6
Challenge: 160
Post "Chosen," possibly even Post "NFA," Buffy somehow, (you decide how) is sent back in time to the episode "Tabula Rasa" in her younger body. She gets there just as Spike is doing the "Randy Giles" rant about why not just name me 'Desperate for shag’ Giles. Without thinking Future Buffy replies, "You don't have to be desperate, I'll shag you anytime." then go from there. PWP. ^_^