It was soggy – stinky and all over her face and upper body.  

“God, Slayer.  That is rank.” Spike stepped back from the sodden mess that was the light of his unlife and tried to keep his duster clear from the goo that dripped off her. As much as he loved her, there were limits and he had just resurrected the duster.   

Buffy glared at him.  She was forced to keep her mouth firmly shut as the beige slime tasted kind of funky when she had inhaled. A big gob of slime dripped off the end of her nose and plopped down her cleavage. Despite the squishy mess that was his Slayer, Spike’s eyes couldn’t resist watching the last drip of demon snot’s passage between her breasts and his eyes slightly glazed over. He might have a soul but he wasn’t blind, deaf or stupid.  

“Mmph,” was all she dared to say. Buffy glanced around the cemetery, searching for something to clean herself off with.   

Spike rocked back on his heels, managing only just to suppress the smirk that was aching to burst out of him. “Never saw a Dieargoth demon with a cold before.  Wonder where all that snot was stored? His hooter wasn’t that big.”   

Spike eyed the cooling corpse at their feet. “Wonder if he stored that snot in his pouches,” he ruminated aloud, squatting down and poking at the aforementioned jowl and throat pouches with his stake. A wheezing sound emanated from the demon as the last of the beige goo poured through the thin slits. Coating the stake, Spike grimaced at it and then tossed it away. “At least a vamp is neat and tidy. Dust and then nothing.”  

“Mmmm…” Buffy waved her soaked hands frantically in front of her face and body, trying to get Spike’s attention. She swayed slightly on her feet, starting to feel a bit woozy—her eyes were slightly red from the slime and she staggered slightly, tripping over a stone. Buffy brought a slimy hand up to her forehead. She wasn’t feeling too great.  Deciding to risk inhaling more icky stuff, she cracked open the side of her mouth, “Sp…ike.” She clamped her mouth shut before anything oozed in.   

“Slayer?” Spike straightened and tilted his head. “You okay?”   

Buffy glared at him and gestured dramatically at the state of her clothes and face.   

“Right…stupid question, come ‘ere.” Spike stepped back to avoid her and pointed in the direction of the gates to the cemetery.  

Buffy squinted at him and then began to walk towards the tall metal gates.  She sighed, internally thanking her lucky stars that there were no Potentials with them. ‘So not the cool Slayer image I wanted to project,’ she thought grumpily. Then her eyes crossed and the ground began to spin.  Unable to stop herself, she giggled.  

“Slayer?” Spike hazarded a quick glance over at the now giggling Buffy.  Ever since the soul he had barely been able to look upon her incandescent face. But then after she had kicked his arse into gear and forced him out of the self-imposed depression and insanity that he had been mired in for so long-- it felt like a second skin-- he had begun to look again. Just to heal his fractured soul, a brief glimpse of her face was more than enough to sustain him for days. He ducked his head and sighed, scuffing the ground. He would never be good enough for her -- she was his Helen. He loved her even more with his soul, but his soul also reminded him that she was unattainable, so far beyond his bloodstained grasp that his heart broke nightly.    

Herding the light of his soul in the direction of the hosepipe hooked to the wall near the gates, Spike frowned. She was weaving around and giggling under her breath. “Pet? You okay?”   

His question was answered with a massive hiccup and then a snort of laughter. “Yup,” Buffy shook her slimy hands at him and then began to wipe off her face.   

Spike eyed her warily.  Something about her behaviour tickled at the corners of his memory. If he didn’t know better, he would say she was drunk. Memories of their drinking session the year before assailed him and he clenched his fists. Her drinking face was still one of the cutest things he’d ever seen. Spike sighed and looked down at his scuffed boots.   

“Oopsie…” Buffy giggled as she staggered and then collapsed on the cool grass. She held her head in her hands, trying to stop it from spinning off her shoulders. “Spike, I feel weird,” she muttered.   

Spike reached for the hose, realising that the slime had to come off as soon as possible. He tried not to smile at the image she presented, legs splayed out, coated from head to toe in goop and swaying drunkenly from side to side. “Not good, not good…Watcher told me last time if I ever brought her home pissed out of her slayer mind he’d stake me. Luv, listen. I’ve got to wash this crap off you, water’ll be a might chilly …Big tough Slayer like you can take it, yeah?”   

“Pish…Spikey doesn’t love me anymore.  He’s all hidden away under his shiny new soul, so stop calling me love! I miss my Spike, all grr and argh.  He loved me sooo much—I miss him, love him…” Buffy sighed dramatically and then a small giggle erupted from her pouting lips as she squinted through the slime on her lashes, her hands raised and fingers crooked as she grred at him then snorted with laughter and finished with a loud burp. “Oh dear, pard’n me.” She slapped a filthy hand over her mouth and tried to look ladylike.   

Spike winced at the sad longing tones in her voice, gritting his teeth and remembering what Dylan Thomas had said in his cups years ago in a seedy little pub in the middle of Wales . Truth will out when you’re three sheets to the wind. His heart and soul had just leapt into his throat at her admission of love, but the inner William also raised his head and muttered doubts about her declaration. So instead he kept quiet and reached for the tap and spun it on.   

“Right lo…Slayer, brace yourself.”   

“Conshider me brasched,” Buffy nodded determinedly and scrunched her eyes shut, an impish smile tickling at the corners of her mouth as she deliberately slurred her words at him. Spike couldn’t help but grin at the image she presented.  

Spike sighed at the sight of her pout, she really was trying to kill him with cuteness. “Sorry, pet,” he muttered and then turned the hose onto her and began to blast her with icy doses of water, slowly and methodically cleaning off the worst of the muck the demon had sneezed onto her. He ignored her squeals of dismay and kept at his task for several long minutes.   

“Gahh…freez…freezing c...cc...cc…cold.” Buffy’s teeth chattered almost painfully as she winced again at the jets of ice-cold water that were soaking her from head to toe. Despite the water chilling her to the core, her demonic induced inebriation was in full force. “Yaaahhh!” she exclaimed and staggered to her feet. “Enough…m’clean, all shiney and new now.  Ahh…” she yelped and spun, trying to protect herself from the freezing water by presenting her back to Spike. The hypnotised vamp stood stock still with his jaw on the ground. He maybe trying to be good, but her puckered perky nipples were pressing against her tight and now transparent cotton shirt and his brain had gone south for the night.   

“Oh… lookat them…all perky now.” Buffy peeled her wet shirt off her torso with a giggle and then looked coyly over her shoulder at the pole-axed vampire still holding the hose. “Spikey? You still in there?” She waved a cleanish hand in front of his eyes, trying to pull him out of the fugue state he was in. “Oh man, I broke him.  Come on, Spikey.  Let go of the hose.” Buffy pointed to the hosepipe, which he dropped immediately and gulped loudly at the vixenish smile she directed at him.  

“No! Slayer, give a bloke a break.  Let’s get you home and tucked up in bed, yeah?” Spike shrugged off his duster and closing his eyes, stepped forward and wrapped the leather coat around her shivering form. He inhaled deeply and then mentally slapped himself. ‘Not good, smells like bloody sunshine and salvation.’  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

“Right. Here we are, got you home safe and sound,” Spike whispered into her hair. Buffy was snuggled up under his chin and had been unconscious for most of the trip home. But she stirred at the sound of his voice. Yawning and stretching in his arms, Buffy woke and then wrapped her arms around his neck, sighing contentedly in his ear. The soft puff of warm air sent shivers down his neck straight to his groin and he suppressed a very umanly whimper. “Stop it, love. ‘M trying to be good here, don’t tease me,” he begged.   

“Me?” Buffy tipped her head back and gave him the widest-eyed look she could manage without them crossing, and batted her lashes at him for good measure. “I am very very good, I’ll have you know!” she exclaimed and then spoiled the dramatic announcement by burping again. “Oh dearie me, so naughty and unladylike, Spike,” she pouted up at him. “You might just have to spank me hard.”   

Spike nearly dropped the minx in his arms.  His cock leapt to attention and tried to make its way out of his jeans by sheer force of will. It lengthened and hardened even more, nudging against the zipper that caged it. He gritted his teeth and hefted her lax body higher, not wanting her to get too closely associated with Spike Jr.  

“Put her down immediately.” Giles’s voice rang out from the front door, irritation colouring his crisp tones and almost startling Spike into nearly dropping his precious burden. Buffy squeaked and wrapped her arms tighter around his neck and twisted her body to face his so as wrap her legs around his waist. She clung to him like a monkey. Spike immediately let go of her and held his arms at right angles to his body.   

“Hey, Giles-- no fair.  You made Spike stop with the carrying and stuff…you’re a poopy head.” Buffy pouted over her shoulder at the stunned older man and then wriggled her groin against Spike’s cock. Pressing her lips against his ear, she whispered something that made him groan.   

“Oh dear lord.” Giles’s jaw dropped at the odd antics of his former charge. He really was at very much a loss.  Ever since his return to the Hellmouth, there had been a distancing between them, and what was even worse was her rekindled interest in the monster that she was clinging to. “I think I may be sick,” he muttered to himself.   

“Oooh, what have you got in here?” Buffy whispered and snuck a naughty hand in-between them and petted Spike’s erection.   

“Hey, why is Buffy dry humping Spike in the front yard? I thought that they didn’t do that anymore.”   

“Oh dear lord.” Giles leapt a foot in the air at the sound of Anya’s voice. “Really, Anya, please try to remember I am not as young as I used to be,” he admonished, clutching his hand to his erratically beating heart. Shock at the sight of his slayer rubbing up against Spike like a cat in heat and the fright Anya had given him, was driving him closer to the heart attack he was anticipating any day now.  

“Oh please, you know you are still as fit and virile as you were ten years ago.” Anya slipped past Giles and clambered down the stairs, her focus on the blond couple. She missed the flush of embarrassment on the older man’s cheeks and his stammering denial.  

“Buffy, pet you need to let go of me.  Look, here’s Anya, she’s come to help you upstairs and into the bath.” Spike gestured at the rapidly approaching ex-demon.  Hope coloured his face; finally the ultimate temptation that was wrapped up in the diminutive woman currently clinging onto him would be removed and he could scurry off to his basement and broo…think.  

“Nu uh, ‘m staying here.  Don’t need a bath, am all yummy and squishy cos of you.  Why would I wanna wash you away?” Buffy tipped her head back and grinned at Spike.  

“Buffy, let go of Spike.  You are making him very uncomfortable, his eyes are sticking out of his head in a very unattractive way.” Anya reached over and grabbed hold of Buffy’s waist and tugged hard. “Really, this is not the way a Slayer behaves. Spike’s eyes are going to pop out of his head and that is a very messy thing to have to clean up. Trust me, I have had to do it so many times. Eyeballs are sneaky lil’suckers, always rolling away and getting squished.” Anya let go and wiped her hands on the seat of her pants. “Eww, that’s disgusting.  Where on earth did all this slime come from?” She waved her hands around trying to dry them off, unaware of the look of panic on Spike’s face.   

“Bollocks. Watcher, get down here now.” Spike prised clingy Slayer arms from his neck and shook her off. Helping Buffy stand, he glanced over at Anya. “You still with us, pet?”  

“Yes, but why are you spinning? And Spike, when did you clone yourself? Which is a very good idea-- twice as much to look at and appreciate. Did you know you are really quite pretty for a male?” Anya swayed slightly, her newly mortal body unable to fight off the slime-induced intoxication in the same way that Spike’s had and Buffy’s body had managed to for a few minutes before succumbing.  

Giles appeared at Anya’s elbow, but was stopped by a firm cool hand from helping her stand upright. “Watcher, they’ve both been infected with Dieargoth slime.  You need to get the mini-Slayers and the rest of them out of the house and somewhere safe. Last thing we need is a bunch of pissed proto-slayers running around Sunnyhell. The First would have a field day.” He shrugged off Buffy’s hands that were exploring places that should not be explored in front of her surrogate dad.   

“Are you certain it was a Dieargoth?” Giles stepped away from Anya as if she were a plague carrier.  

“Wot do you think?” Spike gestured to both women who were now giggling at each other. Their arms were now entwined and they were resting their blonde heads on each other’s shoulders and whispering to each other. He tried to ignore the whispering.  The last thing he needed to hear was how much demon-girl appreciated the cut of the Watcher’s trousers and how nicely his backside filled the tweed. That was the stuff of nightmares and cold sweats. To this day he had never recovered from the trauma of having to watch the ponce shower.  Spike wondered if the purer than pure Scoobies knew about the interesting piercing the Watcher concealed in his boxers. ‘Bollocks. I thought about it! Need a sodding drink now and a nice girlie mag to get my mind off it….’  

“Right, umm…you stay here…oh good lord, Buffy, don’t do that to Anya.  You know that you will really regret that in the morning!” Giles squeaked as he whipped off his specs and scurried off to empty the house. Spike whipped round to find out what had frightened the glasses off the staid Watcher, his eyes narrowed at the two girls who were eyeing him innocently.  

“What did you do, Slayer?”   

Buffy shook her head and mimed zipping her lips shut.   

“Demon girl?” Spike relied on Anya’s frankness-- coupled with her demonic inebriation-- to loosen her tongue, and it did.   

“Well, first we snuggled. Buffy has a very nice body to snuggle against, soft in places and firm in others.  Her lips are very nice – despite the slime they tasted of vanilla.  Much better than Xander’s ever tasted… they usually tasted of beer or pizza. Hmmm, lovely lips all wet and pliant. I liked kissing her.  I can see why you want her so much, she smells so good and her breasts are just the perfect handful…Spike, are you still in there?”   

Spike’s eyes had glazed over and his entire body was responding to her words.  His cock was now raging to be released and his hands were fisting at his side as he leant forward and stared at his Slayer. She was pouting up at him, one arm around Anya’s waist and the other – oh god, the other. With the sight of her sucking her fingers and sliding them in and out of her mouth in a way that he remembered only too well, Spike gave in and whimpered out loud.   

“Right, Xander has taken all the girls--including Dawn and Willow —with him to his flat and… oh dear lord…” Giles trailed off at the sight of Anya and Buffy snuggled up against each other. Spike was frozen mid-step and the Watcher was positive he heard a whimper emanate from the vampire.  

“Pull yourself together, man.” Giles smacked Spike on the back of the head. Spike shook himself all over, much like a large dog, and then cracked his neck.  

“All gone?” he asked the other Brit, his voice faint and wavery.  

“Yes, but I am at a loss as to what to do with Anya.  We cannot risk anyone else being exposed to this contagion.” Giles sighed and rubbed his temples with shaking hands. “This really is most inconvenient.  We have enough on our plates without this foolishness. This is all your fault, Spike.  You should’ve recognised the demon and not allowed Buffy to get contaminated.”   

“Oh right, blame me again, as if I can stop her slaying!” Spike growled and gestured at Buffy.  

“Yeah, Giles.  As if.” Buffy gave her erstwhile Watcher an evil look. “And leave Spike outta this. I know why you’re a meany to him – you’re jealous cos we get on and also, he never left me.” She crossed her arms and stuck her lower lip out in a tremendous pout.  

“Well really…Buffy…” Giles stared in shock at his Slayer and winced at her unerringly accurate observations.  

“Out of the mouths of drunken babes.” Anya shook her head and swayed dramatically.  Lacking Buffy’s tenuous support, she stumbled backwards slightly.  

Giles ignored both women’s comments and instead focused on the situation at hand. He did not want to examine too closely the feelings that had been incurred as a result of Buffy’s words – that way lead to a path of introspection and revelations that he feared he would not come out of smelling of roses. “Right, but what on earth do I do with Anya? I can’t risk exposing the others to her and, well, I cannot exactly leave her here, can I?”   

“No,” Spike interrupted, his voice offering no compromise. He tried to ignore the cheeky hand that was exploring his backside and Buffy’s muttering in his ear about how firm it was and how she wanted to sink her teeth into it, as he tried to have a coherent conversation with the Watcher. Buffy had snuck up behind him and tucked her hand into the back of his waistband the other rubbing soothingly between his shoulder blades. Her actions caused his arousal to return with a vengeance and the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end.  

“I can look after myself. I am not a foolish child. I have managed quite well on my own without Xander.” Anya turned to face Giles, her eyes slightly unfocused, as she seemed to search for his proper positioning.  “Did you know he left me at the alter in my wedding dress?” she asked earnestly.   

Unconsciously, Giles reached over and patted Anya on the hand, wanting to offer her comfort and sympathy. “Yes I know, dear, and he was an utter fool.” Giles smiled at the teary eyed woman who was swaying from side to side. Then realisation dawned.  He peered at his hand and then exchanged a worried glance with Spike. “Oh dear lord…”    

“Right you are, Watcher.  Best get yourselves somewhere safe and stock up on aspirin for the hangovers.” Spike then grabbed hold of the light of his unlife and disappeared into the now empty house, ignoring totally the splutters of complaint from the Watcher and the pathetic pleas of not being left alone.  

~~~~~~~~~~~  

“I’m stinky, I need a shower…squeaky clean Buffy is sooo needed.” Buffy reeled slightly and then reached over and grabbed Spike by the collar, anchoring herself. “Jeez, who put Buffy’s world on the spin cycle? That’s much better, you’re m’rock, y’know? Always have been, the only one who never hides anything from me and always has m’back in a fight.” She squinted up through her tousled hair, which was hanging matted over her face. Spike stared down into her unfocused hazel eyes, aching to reply and promise her he would be there for her for all eternity.  He knew she wouldn’t remember a thing that was said and done this evening, and his heart broke.  For once her guard was down and he was seeing the cute Buffy that she hid behind layers of grief, pain and Slayerness.  

“Hey, where did Anya go?” Buffy looked around Spike and giggled. “I kissed her and she kissed me!”  Her face took on a speculative expression and she nibbled delicately on her lower lip, “Weird kissing a girl. I always wondered why Willow did it, but I get it now, girls have nice lips– she used to like boys, y’know,” Buffy added with a conspiratorial tone to her voice. Buffy huffed loudly, trying to get Spike to focus on her.  His eyes had glazed over and he had gone to that happy place in his mind. “Spike, I kissed a girl, does that mean I’m gay now?” She blinked up at him, worry in her eye. “Cos you know I’m not gay…no way, no how…nuuh!”  

Spike grunted and tried not to break down in tears at the thought of the two women kissing. He had a soul now and there would be no frenzied imaginings of the Scoobie women snogging their faces off. That way leads to hell and tiny demon’s puncturing his balls with burning hot pitchforks. ‘There we go…that worked a charm.’ Spike sighed in relief as his cock wilted at the thought of his balls being pierced.  

“Oh hey, where did my kissing buddy go anyway? One minute she’s here and the next, poof.” One minute Buffy was gesturing in wild abandon her version of an average poof, and the her eyes were narrowed in suspicion. “Was Anya a vampire? Is that why she went poof? Did I stake her?” Buffy swayed from side to side, the demonically induced drunkenness kicking up another notch.  

“Your Watcher’s taking care of Anya, don’t fret your head over it.” He tried to disentangle himself from the Slayer shaped limpet clinging to him and then headed for the stairs, his entire focus on getting her washed up and then locked in her bedroom. Good luck with that, Spike! He was seriously considering chaining her to the bed for good measure and for the safety of his not so pristine virtue.   

“Eww…ick…gross and blergh.” Buffy leapt away from Spike and scrunched her nose up at him. “Giles and Anya sexage?  Sooo not of the good.” She shuddered delicately and stuck her tongue out.  

Spike took advantage of her movements and shrugged off his duster, and while Buffy was busy making gagging noises he swept, her into his arms and pounded up the stairs. Buffy squeaked at the sudden movement and then sighed happily and snuggled up against him.  

Just exactly where she wanted to be.   

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

Spike stumbled to a halt and stared at the bathroom door. He had been in there since that night, but never with Buffy. His hands tightened convulsively and his mouth dried as fear began to make itself known in his heart and soul. Memories of her body struggling under him and her voice pleading for him to stop echoed around in his head and his newly won soul shrivelled under the assault.  Guilt assailed him from all angles and he dropped Buffy and staggered backwards, his hands clawing at his chest and throat.   

“Ow!  Hey Spike that was soooo not of the good.” Buffy pulled herself up using the doorframe. She rubbed her bruised backside and pouted up at him. She stared at him, confusion colouring her features as he slid down the wall, banging his head against it repeatedly and staring blindly ahead. She could hear him muttering over and over ‘hurt the girl’ and despite her intoxication, she understood.   

“Bleach boy, come here.”  She reached down and pulled Spike up. He stared fixedly at his feet, unable to look her in the eyes. She sighed deeply and kicked the bathroom door open. “Ooohhhh look at this a big bad bathtub, Spike.  Grrr beware, it might have mould on the shower curtain, cos you know Dawnie never ever does her chores properly.” She ignored the whimper as she staggered backwards into the white tiled room, pulling the reluctant vampire along with her. “Spike, look at me,” she ordered. There was a long pause and then eventually Spike’s azure eyes made the reluctant trip up to hers. “It’s okay, everything is okay now.”  

Spike’s jaw tightened, sending his cheekbones into high relief and he stared at her, his pale blue eyes piercing through the fuzzy veil of her drunkenness, straight to her heart and something clicked in her head. “It’s okay, Spike.” She reached over and pulled his rigid body into her arms and hugged him tight.  

“No, it’ll never be okay.” Spike pulled away briefly but Slayer muscles won the battle of wills and Buffy cradled his head against his shoulder.  

“Hey, no more angstorama.  You promised to get me squeaky clean.” Buffy giggled, trying to distract him from a full-blown meltdown. Then to Spike’s shock, she pushed him away gently and began to clumsily try to pull her boots off. Hopping from one foot to the other, before giving up and holding one foot up. “Help me, please,” she asked imperiously. And he did, pulling off the soaked books and her baby pink socks, he tried not to groan at the sight of her bright red toenails and finely arched feet. Clutching the boots to his chest, he started for the door and the freedom of the hallway when he heard her little feet pattering on the tile floor.   

“Spike, where yah going?” she sing songed at his tense back.  His spine had fused ramrod straight.  

Spike sighed, defeat causing his shoulders to slump and his head to drop forward. “Nowhere, it appears.  Luv, please let me go.  I can’t… not with you naked, water on your skin, steam from the shower and your frou frou smelling shower gel.  For the love of god and all things unholy, give a poor vamp a break, please.” His voice broke as he begged her for respite and he barely managed to refrain from dropping to his knees and begging her to dust him. To put him out of his misery.  The memories of what he had done were still too fresh on his traumatised soul and then, compounded with her forgiveness and gentleness, he was lost. Part of him also wondered if it was the intoxication talking and that in reality she hated his guts and wanted to rip out his spleen through his nose, which he wouldn’t really blame her for wanting to do. Utterly adrift in the maelstrom of his emotions, he needed time to regroup, drink himself into a nice stupor and then to hide in a corner under his duster until it was all over -- but she wasn’t cutting him a break.  

Then the situation got worse, something soft dropped over his head. It smelt of her and well also the snot, but his finely honed sense of smell picked out the scent of his Slayer. ‘Bugger, it’s her shirt,’ was all he could think until her still damp jeans dropped into his hands and then the sound of the shower cut across his meandering thoughts.  It was the final straw – the one that broke the camel’s back.  He bolted out of the room, tossing her clothes behind him as the Big Bad, one of the most feared vampires in the demon world, ran like a pansy away from one small naked tipsy woman.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

He got as far as the kitchen and began to rummage through the cabinets, searching for the bottles he knew the Watcher had hidden in them. There was no way the old git would’ve not brought in a little something to help him through the nightmare that was the Potentials.  That Kennedy was worth at least a bottle of the good stuff on her own – what the hell Red sees in her I have no idea, unless it’s the tongue piercing. God, where have you hidden them, Ripper? Spike knelt down and rummaged under the sink and with a muted shout of triumph pulled out two bottles of Glenfiddich.  Cradling them to his chest, Spike sent up a prayer of thanks to the Green Fairy. He held them up with shaking hands; one was full and the other had about three shots missing.   

“Never thought I’d say this, Rupes, but bless you.” Spike crawled to the basement door and leant against it. One ear tuned into the room above him and the Slayer singing loudly in the shower.  He really loved her but she couldn’t carry a tune to save her life – and her choice of songs was the thing of nightmares, cold sweats and fond memories   

It must have been cold there in my shadow,

to never have sunlight on your face.

You were content to let me shine, that's your way,

you always walked a step behind.

 

Spike grimaced and took a long pull from the bottle, sighing in relief when the finely aged whiskey hit his taste buds and numbed the guilt, pain and confusion within him. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the door behind him, his body craving the darkness and security of the basement. But he stayed where he was, listening to her warbling away in the shower; wanting to make sure she was safe.  He knew the Watcher would stake him if he let her knock herself out and drown in the shower. Rather an ignominious way for one of the finest Slayers to go, an irreverent part of him thought. He took another drink and sighed. He really was cursed.  

So I was the one with all the glory,

while you were the one with all the strength.

A beautiful face without a name -- for so long,

a beautiful smile to hide the painnnnnnnnnn.

 

Buffy yodelled the final word of the lyrics – hoping that Spike might actually be listening to the lyrics and pick up on what she was saying. She had started to sober up slightly the instant that Spike had freaked out, but she had no idea how to help him, so instead had carried on being drunk Buffy to make everything easier for him, but it had failed miserably, so now she was reduced to singing ‘Wind Beneath My Wings’ badly at the top of her lungs.   

Did you ever know that you're my hero,

and ev'rything I would like to be?

I can fly higher than an eaaaaaaaaagle,

'cause you are the wind beneath my wings.

 

Buffy grimaced and braced herself on the tile, her knees wobbling slightly as the demon toxins beginning to re-emerge and pump through her system. Also, she was kinda humiliated about the badness that was her voice.  She was sure that when Sweet had been around she had sung better than this – maybe it was the demon goo?  She gritted her teeth and scrubbed her hair and rinsed off the shampoo.  Slathering on conditioner, she sighed. Tipping her head forward under the warm water, Buffy sluiced off the conditioner and the remaining shower gel. Pouting slightly, she wished Spike was in the shower with her, helping her reach her back and holding her up. His hard body would be firm against hers and rubbing her in all the right places…  

It might have appeared to go unnoticed,

but I've got it all here in my heart.

I want you to know I know the truth, of course I know it,

I would be nothing with out yoooooooouuuuu.

 

Spike drained the dregs of the first bottle, grimacing at the words of the song that was being yodelled at him. He knew she was three sheets to the wind and had no idea what she was singing, but why did she have to pick that song? With those lyrics and with the memories attached to it?!  

Buffy stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her body. Reaching down for the clothes Spike had tossed over his head in a blind panic as he made his escape, she picked them up and threw them in the laundry basket.  

“Oh crap…” was all she managed to say. Buffy stared down at the beige goo that she transferred from her clothes onto her hands. “Spike, help!”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

“Your pretty eyes are so sad. I bet I can make them all happy again.” Buffy stumbled over her feet as Spike gently guided her into her bedroom. Her head was spinning like crazy, but she also felt warm and prickly all over. But her vampire’s sad blue eyes were really getting to her and she wanted to make him smile just once tonight.  

“Slayer, don’t,” Spike muttered gruffly. He had hit his Slayer-induced pain threshold and was rapidly approaching utter meltdown. He wanted to dump her in bed, find a bottle and crawl into it for the rest of the night.  

“Scaredy vamp.” She stuck her lower lip out and a mischievous gleam appeared in her slightly unfocused eyes. She deliberately went lax in his arms. Spike fumbled with the noodle-like Slayer that was undulating against his body.  He stifled a groan and bent down and scooped her towel-clad body up into his arms.   

“Sooo much better,” she drawled, wrapping her damp arms around his neck and tucked her head under his chin with a gentle nuzzle.  

Spike gritted his teeth and consciously stopped breathing as he gently kicked her door open. He hovered on the threshold of her inner sanctum. It was a first for him; he had never been welcome in previous years into her old room. But here he stood, just outside her mother’s old room and he was filled with nerves.  He eyed the distance from the door to the bed and figured he could just about manage it.  

“Hey! Spiiiike…” Buffy squealed as she sailed through the air and landed with a bounce on her bed. “Gah,” she squeaked as she bounced off the bed and disappeared onto the floor. “Ow!”  

“Best laid plans and all that rot.” Spike sighed and took a step onto the carpet. There, now he was in, and not a bolt of lightening had struck him down. He sniffed tentatively, trying to spot if she was hurt and instead swayed under the impact of scents.  

It was pure and unadulterated sin for a vamp; he could smell her all over the room.  From her freshly laundered clothes hanging in the wardrobe, to her sheets that were drenched with her arousal-- only hers.  So now he knew she had been alone in the dark, busy little fingers hurrying to satisfying herself. The delirious and enticing image of her sprawled across the king sized bed with her hand plunged between her sweet thighs, her fingers industriously working at satisfying that itch in her, made his cock lurch.  He turned his head and inhaled deeply, hoping that the open window would offer him some relief, but it didn’t. He groaned and then whimpered at the scent of her laundry basket, clothes saturated in her perfume-- sweat, blood and her arousal.   

A vein began to twitch in his temple as his brain decided it was time for a holiday and shut down. It made his unlife easier.  

“Spike, you tossed me on the bed.  No fair.” Buffy’s tousled head popped up and she stuck out her lower lip in the biggest pout ever. “Come over here and help a girl up,” she ordered and stuck both arms up in the air. She shifted her hips to make sure her towel dropped to her waist and cleared her throat loudly.   

Spike looked around and gulped.   

“Come on, Spike.” Buffy wriggled her fingers at the pole-axed vampire and managed to suppress the wicked smile that was aching to manifest itself.  She took a deep breath and held it, arching her back slightly so that her breasts surged upwards smiling at the way his eyes followed her nipples’ upward movements. They tightened under his riveted gaze.  The way his eyes darkened with desire and his jaw clenched was enough to send a flood of arousal from her womb to between her legs. She shifted slightly and rubbed her thighs together, trying to ease the ache that had erupted between them. A shaft of moonlight lit her sun-kissed skin in a pale silvery hue, concealing more than it revealed.   

His mouth watered and he took a reluctant step towards her.  

‘Yes…here vampy vampy…come to me.’ She did a mental snoopy dance as he walked towards her, his pale blue eyes never wavering from her slender form.  

Mechanically his hands took hers and with his eyes riveted to her, Spike pulled her to her feet. Letting the towel drop from her waist. Buffy raised her chin slightly and stood proudly before him. Her nude body was a mouth-wateringly familiar sight for him, but he resisted looking down. Instead, with his soul in his eyes, Spike looked into her sweet face and sighed.  

“Why are you doing this, Buffy?” His voice was whisper soft as he gazed steadily at her. His nostrils flared as she shifted slightly and the delicate perfume of her arousal anointed the air around them. He wanted to cry in frustration and scream with delight all at the same time. Spike had been positive that he had forfeited any right to see her unclad form ever again and yet she stood there before him. His Galatea…his Diana…his darling Slayer, pure perfection in his eyes.   

“Slayer, what are you doing?” He grimaced at the sound of his voice cracking under the strain.  

“Spike, I think it’s pretty obvious.” She took a step towards him.  

“Don’t… The goop that bugger snotted you with has made you tiddly. In the morning you’ll—” He choked at the thought of her crying rape again. Pulling his hands away from her grasp he stumbled backwards; the back of his knees hit the bed and he swayed slightly, his vampiric poise and grace vanishing into the ether. For a brief moment he wondered if it was his soul that gave him the two left feet syndrome.  

She gave him an enigmatic smile, refraining from mentioning that she had sobered up the moment he had tossed her onto the bed. Instea,d she pushed him back onto her bed and pounced.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~  

“Good lord, Anya, are you sure you want me to put it in there?”   

“Hush up, Mr Stuffy Pants, and just get on with it. How long does a poor girl have to wait?” Anya giggled at the sight of her former boss standing with his jeans around his ankles and his shirt covering up his not so floppy bits.  

“But are you sure?” Giles wished she hadn’t grabbed his glasses and thrown them over her shoulder. He really needed something to do with his hands; he knew it was the effects of the slime, but she was a magnificent woman and he had never forgotten that kiss.  

“Pansy arsed Watcher, just do it!” Anya ran her hands over her breasts and cupped them together. She stopped and cocked her head to one side. “Are you sure you’ve had sex before?”   

“But really, how can my putting it in there and rubbing it up and down give you any enjoyment at all? It’d all be a bit one si...si…sided.” Giles wrung his hands together anxiously. His inebriation as well as arousal was causing him to stumble over his words.  The mental image of his cock nestled between her breasts made his erection jump and his foreskin to peel back slightly from the head.   

Anya giggled and swayed slightly as she walked over and dropped to her knees, cheekily peaking under his shirt. “Oh my…what a treasure indeed…Oh my god, is that an Albert?” she squeaked and tore open his shirt to reveal Giles’s hidden surprise. “Oh hello handsome!” Anya squealed excitedly. “I haven’t seen one of these in decades. I tried to get Xander into piercings but he was scared of the needles…pretty much scared of everything actually, especially commitment. But you—” She looked up at Giles as she toyed with the glittering piercing. “I have a feeling that commitment is not a problem with you, is it?” Anya tugged the loop gently and watched avidly as his entire body tightened in pleasure.  

“Well…” Giles gasped as Anya’s teeth gently tugged at his Albert, followed by her experienced tongue curling in and around the area.  

“Oh yummy, and really much larger than Xander’s -- even after we spent so much time using that extender pump…I had to get my money back on that thing. Oh look, it’s twinkling at me.” Anya dipped her head forward and in a smooth motion deep throated the now gasping Watcher. “Hmmm,” she hummed happily around his erection. The vibrations made his knees buckle as her warm mouth and throat held him secure in her tight embrace. She helped him out by sticking her index finger knuckle deep in his arse, causing him to stand ramrod straight with a strangled gasp. “There we go, all nice and straight.”  

~~~~~~~~~~~  

“Bu—Slayer, please don’t.” Spike tried to wrestle the armful of amorous blonde he had managed to catch hold of as she had pounced, and failed miserably.   

Buffy ignored him and wrestled his shirt off his body, giving his hair an extra ruffle for good measure. He was cuteness personified with the curls and the confused baby blues. She had settled on seducing him into submission as no amount of talking seemed to work. She had to thank the stinky snot demon for lowering her inhibitions, otherwise they may never have gotten to this position again. And she had to say, a quivering Spike shaped lump beneath her was of the good.  

“Why not,” she whispered huskily as she arched a fine brow at him and busied herself with his belt buckle.  She pulled if off with a flourish and threw it over her shoulder. “There, that must feel a bit better?” She undid a couple of buttons and then gave him an impish smile, her busy fingers toying with the dark curls peaking out of his jeans.   

“I…don’t know what to do…” Spike cursed himself for stumbling over the words that begged to be said. His gaze was riveted on the nymph of his nightmares and dreams who was straddling him and touching the dusting of curls that peeked out of his jeans. Her finger trailed up and began to trace a lazy pattern up his muscled abdomen. His ripped muscles seemed to be calling to her fingers; Buffy’s tongue peeked out of the corner of her mouth as she traced her index finger around his belly button. The softness of his skin belied the strength of his body and she smiled as she felt him exhale shakily, his entire body quivering as her finger dipped in.  

She knew if she assaulted his senses some more then the sensualist she remembered and loved would appear. Buffy’s entire being froze – know and love? Oh my god, I love him, I love Spike. Since when?  

Since forever, that often ignored voiced piped up in her head. The same one that sounded suspiciously like her mom’s. Buffy frowned slightly, a small wrinkle appearing between her brows, and stared down at Spike as if seeing him for the first time. Any lingering inebriation from the slime faded entirely with her realisation.   

‘Christ, she’s frowning…She’s realised who she’s rubbing up against like a cat in heat…Oh god, I hurt the girl.’  Spike hands reached up and grasped her nude form.  He lifted her gingerly off him and set her down on the mattress before moving to get up. Only to be stopped by a touch. Spike glanced down at his shoulder and there it was. Her hand, the same one that dealt death to his kind nightly, had dealt him pain and bruises all last year and was now caressing his skin as if it had found something precious.   

“Spike, don’t leave,” she whispered against the nape of his neck as her legs glided alongside his and her arms slipped around his torso, anchoring his back against her body. His eyes flashed citrine for a moment at the sensation of her warm body pressing into his and the diamond hard tips of her breasts were trying to burn holes into his back. In a dreamlike trance, he looked down and watched his hand cover hers and squeeze her thin fingers tenderly.   

“Buff—Slayer, I have to go.”   

“Spike, I just realised something. Something I’ve known for a long while but never let myself accept.”  

“Yeah?”  

“I love you.”  

Spike jolted away from her embrace and tried to get off the bed, only to have a Slayer clinging onto his back, wrapping her legs around his waist and squeezing hard. “Love, that’s the demon slime speaking.  You’ll regret saying that and everything you’ve done in the morning and I can’t go through that agai…” He stopped as her teeth bit down hard on the juncture of his neck. Right over his turning mark. His cock re-hardened and forced its way out of his jeans and he growled, his demon wresting aside the soul and making itself known. “You’re playing with fire, Slayer.”  

“I know. It’s the only way to get rid of angsty Spike. Now listen. Somehow…somewhere the crumbs all pressed together and became cookie dough, and now the dough is all baked and ready for you. Spike, I love you and I know you still love me. I see the looks you give me when you think I’m not looking. I can sense your every mood and feeling. Don’t ask me how or why, I just do, and if you think I’m gonna let your soul stop us from being happy then you really are a dumb blond.”   

‘She said it.’  Spike pulled her unresisting form around him and settled her in his lap. Arranging her legs on either side of him and running a shakey finger up her cleavage, he wrapped his hand around her neck. “Look at me, love, and say it again,” he whispered.  

Buffy realised that he thought she was playing with his mind and emotions. Reaching up with a shaking hand, she traced the outline of his lips and smiled at him. Spike stared solemnly at her, his heart in his mouth and his eyes pleading with her not to break him again.   

Then she smiled at her vampire. The same pestiferous one that had fought firmly by her side for much longer than the other -- who had her back longer than the other.  Who had loved her family, unlike the other. The same one who had got a soul for her; unlike the other, he had to be cursed with his. The same one who wanted to live with her daily and put up with her quirks and human frailties, unlike the other – who would rather have her standing on that pedestal that he was so fond of. She wanted Spike, who was also prepared to die by her side, unlike the other. Who loved her with his entire being, before and after his soul, unlike the other. He was light to the other’s dark and she loved him with every ounce of her being.   

Spike returned her beatific smile with a tentative one that barely reached his eyes, and watched her full pouting lips move in the words he had craved to hear for so long. His body was taut with anticipation and he leant forward slightly. He was disbelieving that the moment he had craved, dreamt about in his crypt and wondered if he would ever hear, was finally here. And even now he was waiting for her to crush him with a cruel laugh and a stake to the heart.  

But it never came.  

Instead his ears were filled with her soft, sweet words.  

“I love you, Spike.”   

~~~~~~~~~~~  

Buffy opened her mouth wide, inviting his tongue to take possession, curling hers around his and engaging in the age-old duel of lovers. He searched her mouth, slanting his head and pressing his cool chest against her erect nipples. He rubbed them with his soft skin and snuck his hands up for an occasional squeeze of each aching nubbin. Buffy pulled away with a gasp and watched as his dextrous fingers tugged and twisted her nipples, the pressure he applied turning them almost white. The pain sent jolts of arousal through her entire nervous system; she ground her clit down on his cock, rocking against it with small grunts escaping her partially opened mouth.  

Spike groaned at the loss of her lips and tongue and leant over and traced the corners of her mouth with the tip of his tongue. He teased and lured her tongue back into his mouth. His hands slid down her arms to caress her undulating backside, savouring the soft skin. Breaking off the kiss, he gasped into her mouth his love and adoration. She inhaled his words and moaned as his mouth and tongue teased at her throat, searching out all her favourite zones. With each sweep of his tongue and nip of his blunt teeth, her core clenched and released another flood of juices, saturating his jeans. The scent would be embedded in the fabric for all time; she whimpered and ground down against his erection again, trying to ease her arousal.        

“Spike, I need…Oh…” She shook as Spike brushed her lips with his and massaged her lower back. One hand cupping her soft backside and holding her nude form close, unwilling to let her move away from him for a second. Not now that he had her in his arms.  Part of him still believed he was dreaming and it was only through constant contact with her lithe body that Spike could reassure himself she was there and wanted him. Loved him.  

“Say it again,” he whispered against her lips.  

“Love you…love you.” Then she pulled away with a frown. Spike’s eyes were shut as he licked his lips, savouring her taste.   

“Ow, woman your nails are sharp!” He wriggled away from her.  Twisting his head from side to side, checking the bright red scratches on his flanks, his balls twitched at the sight of them against his pale skin.  

“You haven’t said it,” she pouted.  

His eyes darkened to a deep indigo and with a lithe twist of his hips, he shifted their positions and Buffy lay on her back beneath him, her thighs cradling him. She stared up expectantly, wanting to hear the words that she had denied so many times fall from his lips.  

“Love you, Slayer.” Spike leaned forward and kissed the pout off her lips.  “With all my heart and soul.  Darling sweet girl, you are the only reason I am still here in this godforsaken world.”  

“I love you, Buffy.” He slid further down and kissed the hollow of her throat. His hands were busy running up and down her sides, teasing the soft sides of her breasts on each stroke.  “Love all of you-- even the grumpy bits.” He grinned and nipped at her pouty lips.  

“Ohh…” Buffy wrapped her arms around his head, cradling him to her throat as he whispered the words over and over against her satin smooth skin. She wriggled against his crotch and frowned at the jeans that were still covering him. With a surge of her hips, Spike was on his back and lying submissively under her. “You’re wearing waaaayy too much.” With that she turned and straddled his chest. Offering him a view that men would die for, her dew slicked cleft was within inches of his mouth. The scent of her arousal painted the air, and his hands were unable to resist reached for her hips and pulling her back onto his waiting mouth.  

Buffy’s eyes crossed at the first swipe of his oh so talented tongue.  She swore the whole curling against the back of his teeth thing was just to get the muscles nice and firm so he could do -- guh.  

“Spiiiiike!” Her fingers dug into his stomach-- giving him a frisson of pain to add to his arousal-- and her toes curled into the sheets at the first pass of his tongue. It danced along the edges of her cleft, sampling the slick juices of her excitement. Spike purred, finally at peace with himself.   

She fumbled with the rest of his buttons and managed to free his raging cock from its denim confinement; it unerringly leapt into her sweat soaked hands. Dazedly she watched as Spike kicked off his boots.  Reluctantly, she let go of his erection and slid his jeans down his lean hips, her warm mouth pressing kisses along the sides of his hips as the pale skin was revealed.    

His cock painted her breasts and cleavage with precum, anointing her with his desire as she moved down to nibble at the soft flesh of his inner thighs. Her movements drew her from his mouth. Spike licked his dew soaked lips and watched as her inner thighs became slick with even more of her arousal. Her puffy inner lips were swelling with her excitement and calling to him.  

He reached up, grasped her slender waist and yanked her firmly onto his face and returned to his task of driving her completely insane. His lips caressed the skin on the inside of her thighs, collecting the musky sweet liquid that oozed from her opening and slid down her skin.  He growled happily, nipping gently with his teeth then laving the mark with his oh-so-talented tongue. Buffy squealed and her feet kicked as her arousal grew, but Spike held her down. Delicately, Spike moved his tongue closer to her centre. Languidly, he licked along the full length of one of her nether lips, and then repeated the action on the other.  

"Please, please, please!" Buffy sobbed, then yelped as Spike touched her clit with the tip of his tongue and swirled around the small nubbin; it twitched and flexed under his tender ministrations. Then he took a deep breath and his tongue teased her entrance before finally wrapping his lips around the bundle of sensitive nerves and sucking hard.  He licked at her secretions as they poured from her core. Slowly and ravenously, Spike's mouth built her towards orgasm. Buffy panted, her hot breath teasing the tip of his cock as she gasped against it.     

With a feather-light touch, Spike's fingers danced over her labia until she squirmed and whimpered. She had to have more of the bliss he could evoke with a single touch of his fingers – no. Wanted more. His teasing was keeping her on the white hot knife’s edge of pure ecstasy and she needed him to send her over the edge.    

“Please god—Spike, need you too,” she whispered against his thigh, her fiery hot cheek burning him. Her eyelids fluttered open and she move over slightly, laving the base of his cock, hoping he would stop teasing her. Her torso was plastered to his stomach, her breasts mashed against his body and the sweat pouring off her anointed him. Her hands were grasping at him. 

“Spike, your fingers, I need them.” She panted and then reached over with one hand and cupped his balls, squeezing them gently, tempted to pull them off if he didn’t, LOL! ‘oh god, there…’  

Two fingers entered her slick and straining passage and pumped into her willing body. His mouth swooped down and attacked her swollen lips, suckling them and pulling them with his teeth. A shriek erupted from her as a result of the invasion and she slammed her hips down to maximize the contact with Spike's mouth and fingers.  Her legs slid further apart. Buffy curled her feet under his shoulders and slumped loosely on his body, leaving herself open to him. To do whatever he wished.  

“Spike, thank you. Oh god,” she gasped. “Love you,” she whimpered as his dextrous fingers curled into her sheath and began to pump slowly in and out. His mouth busy on her clit, teeth nibbling it delicately and then sucking it into the coolness of his mouth as he drank her down. There was a wet sucking noise as his fingers churned in and out of her welcoming depths. Buffy moaned against his cock and then began to lick and suck at it, determined to bring him over the edge with her.   

Dispensing with any teasing, she exhaled deeply and took him in to the root in a swift move, just like he had taught her. It had taken a long night with the two of them working to achieve this and as she relaxed her gag reflex and felt him slip further down her throat, Buffy smirked as best she could around his cock. She swallowed rapidly and relaxing her throat muscles.  

Spike tore his mouth away from her pink nub and groaned. “Christ woman, warn a man,” he gasped against her before returning to feast on her warm and slick flesh. His eyes rolled back behind closed lids as she swallowed his cock, the heat of her mouth and throat scalding him. Buffy’s lips curved into a smile around him as she hummed and moaned, the vibrations tipping him over the edge and into a frenzy of bliss.  

It had been too long for both of them and within moments of each other, they fell into the blissful abyss that they craved. The scent of their combined lust and completion painted the air with erotic appeal. It effectively re-engergised the supernatural lovers as they lay together panting and kissing whatever flesh was near to their mouths.  Buffy laved the tip of his wrung out member delicately, trying to capture the last of his spendings and savour them.  

Spike sighed and hauled Buffy’s lax form around and cradled her against his side. He pressed a soft kiss against her temple. “Missed you,” he sighed and then rolled her on top of him for a deep toe curling kiss, the ones that he had loved giving her before it had gone wrong last year. She often wondered if he were trying to devour her with his lips. She moaned into his mouth, tasting herself on his tongue and wondered if he could taste himself on hers.  

“Let me in, I need to be inside…” Spike panted against her lips. His hands moved restlessly on her slickened back. Buffy pressed tiny kisses over his straining face and widened her legs, letting his now erect cock slide between her slippery lips, the tip of it nudging insistently against her clit. She raised herself slightly on her hands, her hair dropping around their faces, cocooning them as she stared down at their groins. She could see the tip of his erection nestled against her soaked cleft. Buffy moaned at the sight of the pearly drop that seeped out of the tip and dropped onto his flexing stomach muscles. Fascinated she sat up and slid back slightly and stared down at Spike.  

“Love, what are you doing?” Spike leaned on his elbows and stared curiously at his girl as she stared at where they met wondering what she was so intrigued by.  

“Hm?” she ignored him and slid back further, revealing more of his erection to her entranced eyes. Unable to resist, she reached down and traced her thumb over the tip capturing the liquid and brought it to her mouth. Spike tried not to whimper as her pink tongue darted out and tasted him.  She gave him a sphinx-like smile and then raised her hips off his. Freeing his cock, it snaked upwards and towards her moist heat, unerringly searching for its home.  

Spike’s lust hazed eyes ran over her slender body as it hovered over his. Her stomach muscles were rippling in anticipation of the pleasure his cock would give her; her sweet breasts were swollen with arousal, a soft pink blush covering them as her nipples engorged with blood and darkened slightly. But most important was the look of love she was directing at him. So entranced was he that he missed her viper fast hand as it struck, grabbing him and then positioning him.  

Both their heads dropped back and they moaned in unison as she sank down on his erection. Buffy twitched her hips slightly, trying to get his girth into her.  It had been too long and her muscles were tight against him.  

“Slowly, love.  Don’t wanna…oh… Christ, hurt you,” Spike panted. Part of his brain was screaming with delirious joy to be back inside her while the other part was worried about hurting her.  

Buffy bit her lower lip and rested her hands on his stomach, bracing herself as she gently eased him in. Her sheath strained and rippled against the intrusion and slowly the copious juices her body had released helped aid their mutual goal. His earlier ministrations had loosened her slightly and she slid down the final two inches easily, taking him into her body. Time seemed to stand still for them.  She wriggled slightly to get comfortable, their coarse curls mingling and joining together.  

She had missed this. The slow burn of her muscles as they accommodated his girth, the curve in his cock that tickled her inside in just the right place. But most importantly, she had missed that awestruck look in his eyes, so reminiscent of their first union. She returned his gaze with one of her own and then leant over and kissed him. Squeaking as her movements forced his cock upwards and the increased the pressure of his pubic bone on her over sensitised clit.  

“Love you, love you, love you…”she whispered against his mouth and sighed as he whispered back his love for her. Slowly his hands began to move, encouraging her hips to move on his. Their gaze never wavered, blue locked with hazel as she began to move in the age-old rhythm of all lovers. Her slender hips moving slowly around in small circles, but gradually sped up to a frantic rhythm. The speed of her gyrations left them both panting. Spike’s fingers dug into her hips so hard she began to bruise. He planted his feet flat on the mattress to give him leverage and pushed upwards, sending her into spasms as his cock slid in and out of her grasping channel. The only sounds in the room were their pants and gasps of pleasure as they relearned each other’s bodies with their hands and mouths.  

Arching her back bow taut and shifting her pelvis as she rose and fell, Buffy ran her hands up her body and gripped her breasts, her fingers digging in as pleasure spun through her system. Her sweat soaked hair clung lightly to her back and shoulders as her mouth opened in a silent scream of bliss. Spike stared at the siren writhing around on his cock, his hands gripping her thighs, anchoring her to him. He slipped his right hand inwards and towards where they were joined and watched fascinated as his cock moved in and out of her.  Her inner lips clung wetly to his column as it appeared and disappeared.  His fingers slipped in and spread her swollen and straining lower lips so his eyes could devour the singular sight of their lovemaking. He circled her clit, teasing it with the smooth rhythmic motions, edging her closer and closer to fulfilment.  

Her distended clit called too him, it was engorged with her excitement and the constant rubbing against his body. His index finger dropped down and he pressed it hard.  

“Oh…Spike,” Buffy whimpered as a mini orgasm rippled through her body and she dropped her head forward and suckled on his corded throat. Her core throbbed around his erection, massaging him internally with the same muscles that Faith had taunted him with all those years ago.  

“Sit up, love. I want to see you,” he hissed.  

Her rosy nipples were spiked and hard from his attention and her want of him. She could feel the wetness flood between her legs as she felt him looking at her with hot eyes. Spike moved both hands upwards, his calloused fingers trailing over her soft stomach, pausing to dip in and tickle her flanks, his eyes devouring her body as she giggled and wriggled on him. His mouth watered at the sight of her pink nubs tightening and hardening into peaks, ready for his watering mouth. His finger skittered over her ribs and recommitted to his memory the softness of the undersides of her plump breasts. He stared deeply into her lust hazed eyes as he reached up to grasp her breasts, rubbing and stroking them, rolling her nipples between his fingers. Buffy’s mouth opened in a guttural gasp of pleasure as her darling vampire twisted and pulled at her nipples, sending jolts of desire to her womb.  

Buffy’s eyes fluttered open and shut as her rhythmic bouncing and the spasms of her inner muscles on Spike's cock increased. Her hands ran over his shoulders and downwards, retracing long forgotten paths across his shivering skin. Her fingers settled on his nipples and she scratched her index fingernails over the tight nubs. Dipping her head down, her hips never hesitating as she rode him hard, Buffy nibbled on the pale pink nubs, her tongue curling around the pert nipple as she alternated between them both. Not wanting to leave either out of the fun and games, Spike’s hand tangled in her hair and tugged her tormenting mouth away from his hypersensitive skin. He pulled her head to the side and stared mesmerised at the pulse point fluttering under her golden skin. His mouth watered and fangs ached, wanting to plunge into the virgin territory of her unmarked skin – but his soul pulled his demon back, instead he laved the pulse with his tongue and purred quietly.  

Buffy pulled away, not wanting to miss a single expression on his face. She cupped his cheeks in her hands, her thumbs rubbing up and down over his angular cheekbones. His expression could only be described as ravenous.   

Her intense gaze was too much for him and Spike lowered blunt teeth to Buffy's shoulder and bit gently and then soothed the reddened spot with his tongue. The flavour of her sweat-slicked skin hummed through his being as his balls tightened against him. His hands cradled her slender form against his torso, her diamond hard pink nipples tracing small circles as her hips churned against his.  

His cock was working its usual magic inside her. Long forgotten muscles were straining and aching under his vigorous yet loving onslaught.  Buffy whimpered as she shifted on his cock, her inner walls fluttering and rippling around his velvet hardness.  

Spike grunted, but couldn't form words.  All higher brain functions had shut down as soon as she had taken him inside her.  He smiled as he guided her hips in slow, steady movements. Spike's fingers closed around Buffy's swollen nipples and teased them gently until she shrieked and arched against his hands.  She opened her eyes and pulled his head down for a kiss. His tongue pushed into her mouth and she began to suckle on it greedily, all the while arching her body further into the experienced hands that were teasing and plucking at her nipples. Spike cupped her breasts, cradling them reverently as he watched his vixen of a Slayer riding him into oblivion. His eager eyes focused on the drop of sweat that was clinging tenuously to her lower lip and he shifted upwards, cradling her against his body and licked it off.  

‘She tastes sweeter than wine’.  

He tumbled her onto her back and, without losing a beat, his hips surged into her hers with a gentle ferocity. Amber flickered in his eyes as the emotional impact of where he was began to seep into his consciousness. His slayer was under him: wet, willing and moaning like a hellcat as he ploughed into her. Spike growled slightly as the feelings of utter joy and bliss flooded him and he swooped down for a feral kiss. Lips and tongues clashed as their hips pumped against each other. Buffy’s legs dropped open and Spike hooked his forearms under her knees and pulled them up and apart, opening her to his cock even more.  

“Spike!” Buffy’s eyes widened in bliss as her hips shifted her body welcoming his churning cock deeper. Her heels slithered on the rumpled sheets as her arms wrapped around his neck; she tried to anchor herself under the sexual storm he was evoking in her.  

“Love you…can’t last much longer,” he panted, just as she screamed through her orgasm. He ground down as hard as he could, holding himself still as she rode out the crest of her climax. Her skin turned pink and her body tightened and relaxed as her nerve endings began to tingle even more. Spike gritted his teeth.  Not wanting to spend himself in her yet, he pressed his cock in hard and rocked his pubic bone on her now over sensitised clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her again and again.  

Buffy tossed her head from side to side, her mouth moving soundlessly as she gave another pretty shudder. Her sheath was massaging his cock over and over in a series rippling waves and hiccupped around him. Spike’s face shifted into his game face and then melted away into his mortal visage with each shudder. She was sending him over the edge and he wanted more. She felt like molten steal under him, her body undulating in a loose-limbed way, causing his fangs to drop and his mouth and being crave the salty sweet taste of her skin and blood.    

“Spike, please.” Her voice was husky and it cracked slightly as she shifted under him. She licked her lips and ran her hands along her pinned thighs and up his arms over and over. Her breath was quickening with each jolt of pleasure that he gave her.  Unable to resist, she plunged her hand between them and captured her swollen nub between her index finger and thumb, giving it a definite twist.  It sent another series of mini orgasms through her already humming system. “I need more, sweetheart…”  

Spike looked down and watched her busy fingers as they rubbed and twisted her distended red clit and massaged around the base of his cock as it rested in her, twitching occasionally in response to her spasms. She gave him a naughty smile, one that usually preceded one of her more outrageous tricks, and then he blinked.  

“Taste me,” Buffy cooed as she slathered her nipples with her juices. He was her willing slave; he could do nothing but obey. Spike dipped his head and laved both of her breasts, tasting her arousal which fuelled his own. ‘Dirty minx, love you for it, you randy bint.’ He tipped his head back and gritted his teeth, his face set in lines of concentration, determined not to come.  

Buffy tugged on his curls and pulled him down for another kiss -- she couldn’t get enough of him. It had been so long and finally he was with her and surrounding her with his essence. She felt complete, safe and whole. Buffy sighed happily and then tilted her hips upwards as another fluttering orgasm hit her and she groaned against his closed lips.   

“Open you mouth, Spike,” she hissed, desperate to kiss him again. “Let me in, please. I need to taste you”. He leant down and devoured her sweet lips.  His fangs inadvertently nicked her and a bead of blood welled up. Spike caught her lower lip and suckled the crimson sweetness away, and then his demon shoved the soul aside with a purring snarly growl.  

Buffy managed a meep of excitement before all her energy was focussed on surviving the sensual assault on her body as Spike vamped out with a hearty growl; his hips began to resume the punishing rhythm he had stopped. With each thrust, her breath was knocked out of her with a loud grunt. She tossed her head from side to side on the crushed pillow and hung on as best she could. Spike snarled, all sense of the soul and gentleness gone. Her cheeks and neck were flushed a crimson red, the blood rushing under her skin calling to his demon.  

His rough tongue traced circles over her pulse point and scraped over the much-hated scars left by his family. He wanted to bite and tear them off her golden skin, but the barest trace of his soul clung on and stopped him. Instead, Spike contended himself with teasing them with his fangs, heightening her arousal. He would never bite her over these marks, not unless she begged him and even then, he was unsure as to whether or not he could. It would mean hurting her more than he wanted to.  

He pounded into her core over and over, determined to take her further than he had ever managed before. The headboard slammed into the wall rhythmically as he drove into her molten wetness. Buffy screamed at the top of her lungs and clung onto Spike, trying to hold him to her. But his rapid lunges knocked her arms loose, she threw them above her head and clutched onto the pillows. Her action arched her body and breasts upwards, towards her lover’s mouth.  

She shifted slightly as burning hot bursts of pain erupted from her tightening core, heightening her pleasure. Spike shifted his arms slightly, bending her legs back to her shoulders and changing the angle of penetration. He could feel the muscles in her powerful legs flexing and releasing as she pointed her toes and curled them over and over in time to his thrusts. The scent of her body, the sweat, blood and arousal swarmed his senses and he began to purr at her.  

Buffy tried to arch her back a bit to accommodate her new position, and failed. He had her firmly pinned under his weight. Spike was lost in the passion evoked between them and was unaware that her face was reddening from lack of oxygen and not pleasure. She twisted her hips and tried to wriggle free, the combination of her arousal and breathlessness were causing black spots to appear before her lust hazed eyes. Despite the danger of suffocation from his feral lovemaking, it also heightened her arousal and her excitement doubled. She grunted once and then began to kick her legs.  The new position was forcing the remaining air from her lungs and she couldn’t breath.  

Instantly he realised that his girl was not happy and Spike let her legs drop. Apologies bubbled from his lips, as the fear that he had hurt the girl filled him again. She stilled his panicked apologise with her index finger and smiled up at him. Buffy took a deep breath and sighed in relief. Her legs were splayed loosely apart, the muscles unwilling to move and she stared avidly into the amber eyes of her love as he moved lithely between them. Arching her back she languidly cradled the back of his head in one hand and pushed him down to the needy peak of her breast. She needed to make sure he didn’t disappear into the mindset of crazy basement Spike and she offered the only thing she could think of.  

“Spike, please…” she chanted as her mind began to fill with white-hot pleasure. She could feel the tension building up in her loins from his cock pounding into her, filling her with an aching need.  A dreamlike longing filled her as the soreness from between her legs changed to endless desire.  

Spike’s fangs teased the tight peak she had offered him as he licked her. Then he froze at her grunted words.  

“Bite me please, Spike…there… now. Please.”  

He tried to pull his head free of her demanding and strong fingers but she had a firm hold of his curls and clung on with a death grip. Pulling him slowly back down to her nipple. His neck muscles were tense under her fingers and she watched as his tongue curled around an incisor, his gaze riveted to the feast she was offering him. Then, with a snarl, he struck.  

It was pure heaven, or as near as he could ever dream to be. She tasted of sugar and spice and everything nice. Her blood was a pure nirvana and as he drank his cock erupted into her. The combination of her blood and divine quim strangling his cock was too much and he roared against her skin as his spine stiffened.  

Buffy screamed at the sting of his fangs sliding into her willing flesh.  The pain was tempered with the feel of his erection surging into her over and over. Her fingers knotted in his hair, holding him in place. With each strong pull of his mouth her core tightened against his cock, milking him of everything he had to give. Doubly penetrated by his cock and his fangs, she was adrift in a cloud of bliss, one that she wished she had experienced before with him.  All she could feel was him, her silken sheath filled with his cool spendings, rapidly becoming warmed by her scalding heat.  

Retracting his fangs from the bite around her aureola, Spike lapped at the seeping wounds and kissed the marks gently. Unable to resist tasting her again, his fangs teased around her nipple, scratching it and adding more pleasure to her already overwrought body. He delicately pierced the peak and then suckled at her breast like a new born.  She offered a whimper to him as the fang slid through the tiny peak and tugged at her. She looked down fascinated at the sight of him suckling from her breast, the sheer eroticism of his ministration sending her into bliss again. She gasped soundlessly, unsure how many more orgasms her exhausted body could take.  

The reunited lovers slumped against each other, lost in a haze of pleasure and completion.  

“Love me, Spike, for good, don’t ever leave. Promise me?” she whispered tiredly against his throat. “No matter what they say or what comes, stay with me. Please,” she begged.  

Spike gently cradled her and rolled them onto their sides. His cock slithered reluctantly from her; whimpering at the loss, Buffy undulated her body against his and looped her leg over his hip, pressing their groins together. Her breasts flattened against his heaving chest, smearing against him specks of blood. Spike pressed fevered kisses to her face as his demonic visage slipped away.  

“Never leave you. My Slayer, my Buffy, my love and heart.” His bright blue eyes burned with a fervent passion. “M’yours till the end of time.” 

 

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