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Chapter 8

“You sure we’ll be safe here?” Buffy asked, toweling off her recently dyed locks. “We shouldn’t just make that flight to Italy tonight?”  

“Nah…even if they did manage to find where the call was comin’ from, there’s too many variables for them to be able to pinpoint our location.  They’ll prolly just wait you out, bein’ as you said you’d be there.”  

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, sitting down beside him on the bed where he lay sprawled on his back, his hands tucked behind his head. “It’s just…with Giles…and finding out about that Cruciamentum thing…I wasn’t thinking.”  

“Hey now, none of that.  We managed to escape just fine.  No worries, yeah?”  

Spike didn’t like to see the Slayer cry, and she seemed to be reeling from this latest blow dealt her by the Council of Wankers.  

“If it makes you any feel better, we can always go back to London afterwards, and I can eat them.”  He said it in jest, anything to get her to smile…or at least lose the distraught look upon her face.  Unfortunately, it seemed to have the opposite affect, and she broke down and started crying, throwing herself against him.  His hands frozen in mid air from where he’d removed them from behind his head, he glanced down warily to see her sobbing against his bare chest.  His arms lowered from their stationary position to fold her into a secure embrace, one hand running up and down her bare back in a soothing motion as she cried.  He wasn’t sure what it was that had set her off, and he waited until she’d spent her tears before asking her.  

Buffy had tried to be strong, to be brave and face this thing alone.  Not involving her watcher or her friends.  But, her absolute faith in Giles had crumbled with his silence, and if it weren’t for the fact that the Order wouldn’t just target him, but her mother and friends, she would have left him alone to deal with his fate.  Then, to have Spike offer to make things better for her…  

Even if she was sure he was just joking.   

Only, she knew if she’d but say the words he would do it.  Would kill any and all that had hurt her.  Just as she knew she’d do the same.  Had in fact done so in that hotel what seemed like forever ago.  

Such was just the nature of their evolving relationship.  

That thought seemed to comfort her, and she finally dried her tears on the back of her hand then hastily tried to wipe his chest clean.  

“I’m sorry,” she told him, gesturing to the mess she’d made.  

“’s just water.  You alright now?” he asked, loosening his grip so that she could sit up.  

“Yeah…and about that…um, if I ever say yes…to what you offered, know that I’m kidding, ok.  No matter how much I might want it to be otherwise.  It’s just…I don’t understand.”  

“Who…the Council of Wankers?”  

“No, them I can see doing something like that.  They’re all about control and this little test of theirs practically ensures that their Slayers never get too old, too mature to be dictated to.  I just thought Giles was different…but I guess I was wrong.  He knew!  Knew about it, and never told me.”  

“Maybe he wouldn’t’ have done it… An’ what is it exactly?” Spike asked, confused.  

“You mean you’ve never heard?”  

“Wouldn’t be askin’ if I did, pet.”  

“Yeah…sorry…just thought you being around and all.  Hell, you’d think the vamps would be lining up for a shot at a vulnerable Slayer…you especially.”  

“Me?”  He sounded deeply offended, as if the mere idea repulsed him.  “I’ll have you know, I fight my battles fair ‘n square.  Where’s the sport in pittin’ my skills against the Slayer if she can’t even properly participate?”  

Buffy arched a slim red brow at him, complements of her recent hair change.  

“Well, ‘s true.  Both Slayers knew I was gunnin’ for ‘em.  Hell, you did too.  So, I’ll be havin’ your apology.”  Disgruntled Spike was a sexy Spike.  And with that pouty lip of his…  

“’m waitin’, Slayer,” he grumbled.  

“You’re right.  I remember the first time I met you…in the alley behind the Bronze,” she told him.  Affecting a falsetto voice she spoke from memory, “‘You’ll find out on Saturday. What happens Saturday? I kill you.’”  

Spike growled and rolled over, effectively pinning the Slayer beneath him.  She giggled at his maneuver, in no way worried about him hurting her.  No, hurting her was the last thing on his mind…hers too, for that matter.  Explanations about the Cruciamentum slipped by the wayside as he lowered his mouth to her breast and latched on to one pert nipple.  

She arched into his mouth, groaning in delight when he sucked harder.  Her fingers sifted through his dark hair that was free from the gel that normally kept it slicked back against his skull.  With the new color, he’d taken to wearing it product-free, allowing the curls to stick up at will.  A drop dead sexy look, to be sure.  

His hand moved to give attention to her other breast, rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, coaxing the nub to an even harder point.  

Buffy couldn’t seem to get enough of him, writhing beneath him until she felt the tip of his cock nudge against her sex.  She shifted again, trying to draw him inside.  

“Fuck, Buffy,” he gasped, tearing his mouth away from her breast as his oversensitized prick brushed against her womanly curls.  “Can’t wait…gotta be inside you now.”  

“Yes…now…don’t wai—”  

“God, yes,” he hissed, sinking inside her moist heat.  

“Spiiiike,” she groaned, her inner walls stretching to accommodate his girth.  

Their dual gasps mingled at their joining, then they began moving in that age-old rhythm of lovers everywhere.  The synchronicity of their movements heightened both of their pleasure.  The slow pace, their whispered words – although both were careful to avoid using the “L” word – proved the growing affection between the once mortal enemies.  Soft caresses and tender looks shared without guile.   

It was as if only they existed.  Not the Order.  Or the Watchers.  No one.  

Just the two of them moving to music only they could hear.  

Buffy opened her eyes to see Spike looming above her.  His face a mask of ecstasy as he thrust slowly in and out of her body.  Just seeing him like that caused another wave of moisture to cover his cock while her body constricted reflexively around his length.  

“Yeah, baby, tha’s it.  Squeeze me tight.”  She could see the corded muscles in his neck as he surged up into her, and she lifted her head to trace its path with her tongue.  He seemed to like that, his measured movements becoming more forceful.  Her mouth continued to tease the line her tongue had made, alternately sucking and nibbling at his flesh.  

Buffy’s legs wrapped around his hips and his pace increased, the force of which causing the headboard to slam rather loudly against the wall.  She didn’t care, too mindless to the way he was making her feel. The fluttering within her womb signaled her impending orgasm, and she bit his neck to keep from yelling her pleasure – hard enough to leave teeth marks, yet not breaking the skin.  

It sent Spike right over the edge.  Roaring his release – he didn’t care who heard him – the vampire’s face shifted and he buried his fangs in her throat, hips on autopilot as he bucked against her while filling her with his seed.  

The Slayer gasped at the initial piercing of her flesh.  But the slight pain soon gave way, then he began to draw her blood into his mouth, shallow sips as his hips continued their slow movement.  Drawing her orgasm out until it was almost painful.  

He finally stilled, his body a boneless mass atop her, he continued to nuzzle at her neck, sucking and laving at the open marks.  Buffy held him close, unwilling to let him move off her.  And Spike didn’t seem inclined to move either.  

~*~*~*~*~  

“I like the red,” he murmured sometime later, his finger idly twirling a lock of her hair.  Snuggled in bed together, they’d come to a mutual decision and decided not to bother with research tonight – just in case they needed to make a fast getaway.  Instead the pair had romped in bed (it was a good excuse, right?) until exhausted, then had managed to haul their asses towards the shower to get cleaned up.  

That had led to more of the same, until finally, they’d washed each other off in the tepid water.  The two had flopped into bed, both of them lying there, waiting for sleep to overcome them.  

“Yeah?” she questioned sleepily.  

He growled, nibbling on her ear.  “Oh yeah.  Very sexy.  Although, the black was rather hot too.”  

From her position in front of him, Buffy smiled allowing her eyes to close.  She’d never been called sexy before and rather liked it.  

Spike felt her drift off, her body relaxing into his as sleep overtook her.  He held her close, the soft cadence of her heartbeat soothing.  It was still a little early for him to join her in slumber, but rather than get up, he just held her body close, delighting in the warmth of her skin against his…the softness.  

Towards dawn, he too, drifted off.  

~*~*~*~*~  

The trip to the airport was accomplished with relative ease.  There was one slight snafu when Buffy was selected for the practical strip search the airlines passed off as a security check.  She rolled her eyes at being typecast, although, looking down at her clothes, she wasn’t surprised.  Throw in the appearance of her boyfriend…  

‘Whoa?  Boyfriend, Buffy?’  

She looked over at her traveling companion.  His amusement at her expense, something she’d be taking up with him later.  The Slayer cocked her head to the side as she regarded him – the move reminiscent of Spike’s.  

‘Hell, even his mannerisms are rubbing off on me. But, boyfriend? Well, he’s a boy…man…and he’s my friend?’  

‘Gee, avoid much?’  

‘What do you want me to say?  That Spike is my boyfriend?  Like we’re dating or something?’  

‘You are sleeping with him…’  

‘So?’  

‘So…it’s not something you’d take lightly.  And him being your first…’ her inner conscience prodded.  

‘Shut up!  Get out of my head.  Go bug someone else already.’

‘Just sayin…’  

After that parting shot, the mocking voice drifted away, leaving her alone with her thoughts.  Finally cleared from any possible terrorist activities, Buffy joined back up with Spike, and together they made their way to their plane.  

~*~  

“Something wrong, pet?” Spike asked once they’d buckled themselves in their seat.  

“No…not really.  Just thinking, is all.”  And Buffy wins the prize for understatement of the year.  

Spike nodded, saying nothing.  He wasn’t going to pry.  Besides, he had a lot on his mind as well.  Like what he was going to do after they’d finished what they’d started.  If the Slayer planned to go back to Sunnydale.  And, whether or not she wanted him to stick around.  

Their individual thoughts made for a quiet trip to Italy.

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