"Hello, there. Welcome to Wal-Mart. Do you folks need a shopping cart?"

Spike stared down at the diminutive greeter. The woman was so impossibly elderly that he was quite sure he might've known her back in the days before he was changed. The woman, whose red, white and blue nametag read "Esther", smiled up at him with a sweet smile. With a tight smile of his own and a roll of the eyes, Spike took the cart that she was nudging towards him and muttered a quick "thank you".

"You could be a little nicer, you know."

Taking one hand off of the handle so Buffy could slip between him and the cart, Spike shrugged indifferently. Memories of the sweet-faced old lady faded away as Buffy wedged herself into his arms, her firm ass pressed right up against his crotch. He groaned as he began to harden in response.

"Bloody hell, Slayer! My dick's gonna fall off if you don't give it a rest," he snapped, trying to angle his hips away from her swaying rump. She just giggled and guided the cart towards the magazine and book section.

"Well, what use would you be then?" Buffy teased. "Do you think they sell vibrators at Wal-Mart?"

Spike snarled playfully, his good mood restored. He grabbed Buffy's hips and pushed her over the cart's handle, grinding his erection into her denim-clad bottom. With a muffled shriek, Buffy burst into giggles and repaid him by rubbing herself over the growing bulge in his black jeans. He thrust against her hard, making her lose her grip on the cart. It rolled away, slamming into a potato chip display, knocking several of the bags to the ground.

"Damnit, vampire, stop it! You're incorrigible!"

"You started it, Slayer, and you aren't buying a fucking dildo! The day I can't pleasure my woman is the day you need to put a stake in my heart," Spike growled, grabbing the cart and wheeling away from the trashed display.

Buffy stooped and picked up the bags, replacing them on the rack. "You better be careful what you wish for, Spikey. You sleep pretty deep during the day... " Buffy said, her green eyes sparkling with glee. "And, what is this 'my woman' shit? I don't belong to you."

Gazing at the tiny blonde Slayer, Spike wondered how she could manage to look so fucking sexy, dressed in oversized overalls and combat boots. Her beautiful face was scrubbed clean, her rosy cheeks and unadorned eyes making her look all of ten, and her hair was pulled up into a loose topknot, wispy tendrils brushing her soft skin. He had a sudden vision of their lovemaking from the night before. Buffy, illuminated by the soft glow from the silent television, riding him to her pleasure. Her head thrown back, her skin flushed pink and glistening with tiny beads of sweat that had tasted so salty when he had licked them from her body. Her eyes, glittering like jewels in the dim light, had softened and filled with unshed tears as he had poured himself into her, screaming her name. There wasn't a word yet coined for how beautiful she was when she was in the throes of orgasm.

"Spike? Come on back to me, blondie."

Buffy was tugging on the sleeve of his leather duster, a smile still hovering around her lips, but her eyes narrowing in concern.

"I'm okay, pet. Just had a vision of you coming last night, didn't know you could scream that loud."

Blushing a truly alarming shade of magenta, Buffy punched him on the arm. He staggered back, the force of the punch making his arm throb in pain. He grinned. "Baby likes it rough..."

With a jerk of her head, Buffy indicated the woman standing not two feet from them, obviously trying hard not to listen and failing miserably. Spike snorted, unimpressed. He swept Buffy into his arms, pushing her back against another display, this one loaded with little boxes of vitamins. Several boxes tumbled to the floor as Spike jerked Buffy into a rough kiss, his tongue shoving past her full lips.

Buffy burst into giggles, the sound garbled by Spike's kiss. He pulled away and grinned down at the girl. Raising a hand, he rubbed one thumb over her swollen bottom lip and was rewarded by the curl of Buffy's tongue as she sucked it into her mouth, biting lightly.

"Well, I never!" a peeved voice said.

Spike glanced over at the woman who had observed their brief little groping session. She glared at them with righteous indignation. "Yeah, I can see that. You're just jealous, luv."

"Spike, don't be rude!" Buffy smiled apologetically at the woman. "We're sorry, he doesn't get out much."

With a disgusted shake of her head, the woman walked off.

"Will you behave? I'd like to get some shopping done before we get kicked out of here for indecent activity or something," Buffy scolded.

"I don't care, pet. If I want to lay you down in the fucking middle of the floor and pound you into the tile, I will!" he blustered, the titillation factor of such an activity making him throb with lust.

"I don't think so, vampire. I don't perform for an audience."

Spike followed Buffy as she turned into the magazine aisle. "You mean, you've never imagined doing it in front of someone else? Like your Watcher, maybe, or your mum?"

"My mother? That's perverted!"

The delicate flush stealing over her features belied her exasperation. Spike wagged a finger under her nose as she picked up the latest issue of Vogue. "You have thought about it! I can tell by the look on your face."

Buffy tried to hide her grin as Spike preened in satisfaction. "Well, you know that guy at the truck stop off of Interstate 80? The good-looking trucker?"

Spike didn't need to be reminded of that wanker. The man had stared at Buffy with such blatant desire that Spike had been tempted to rip his throat out just for the fun of it. The attention had gotten his Slayer all hot and bothered and he had barely gotten her into the car before she had attacked him, a warm armful of lush, sweet-smelling Buffy. He had been sore for two days after the car incident.

"Yeah, that wanker. What about him?"

"When you went to the bathroom, he came up to the table."

"You didn't tell me that!"

Buffy tossed the magazine into the cart along with a Cosmopolitan. "You would've probably killed him. Anyway, he offered me money if I'd let him watch you fuck me up the ass."

Spike gripped the shopping cart as lust rocketed through him. "And? I take it you said no?"

Buffy tugged on the end of the cart as she walked off. "I called him a pervo, then threatened to fuck him up the ass with my salad fork. He called me bitch and left."

With a shake of his platinum-blond head, Spike chuckled. No wonder she had been so wired when he came back from the bathroom. Even verbal slaying got her all crazy.

"You're a nasty child."

"You wish," Buffy tossed over her shoulder as they pushed the cart towards the Health and Beauty department.

---

"What color do you like better?"

Spike looked at the two bottles of nail polish, one a silvery-pink, the other metallic gold. "I like 'em both."

With a happy grin, Buffy put them both into the cart, along with a bottle of polish remover and a packet of emery boards. "Goody, I was hoping you'd say that!"

Moving on to the makeup aisle, Spike watched with amusement as she compared colors of eyeshadows and lipsticks. Leaving her to debate the merits of Revlon over L'oreal, he walked over to a lipstick display. The picture on the advertisement showed a sultry supermodel, Spike thought it might be Cindy Crawford, wearing a deep crimson lipcolor, a shade as red as fresh blood. The kind right out of the heart; rich, almost black.

He wanted to see Buffy's full lips painted this wonderful color and those very lips wrapped around his cock. He picked up the tube and turned it over, reading the name on the bottom. He almost laughed out loud.

The name of the color was "Blood".

"How appropriate."

"What is?" Buffy asked as she walked back to the cart, her hands loaded with makeup. She looked at the tube in his hands. "What color is that?"

"Would you wear it for me?"

She smiled. "Depends."

Spike indicated Cindy. "What she's wearing."

"Wow! That's really red."

Taking the lipstick from him, she opened it and looked at the color. "You want to see me in this?"

Spike stared at her mouth. "Yeah."

Buffy popped the lid back on it and put in the cart. "We'll see. Hey, are you sure you don't mind me buying all this stuff? You've been pretty free with the purse strings."

"I don't mind, kitten. Money's meant to be spent."

Buffy linked her arm through his as they walked out of the makeup department. "I'm starting to feel kept."

"I like that idea. My very own concubine. With big, luscious red lips and a bare, ready-to-be fucked ass. Works for me."

Slapping at him in mock anger, Buffy turned down the shampoo aisle.

---

"What's that for?"

Buffy gave him the 'look', the one that let Spike know that he was treading on sensitive ground. "I know you've been around long enough to know what these are for."

Spike rolled his eyes. "I know what they're for, luv! It just seems like a waste of good blood."

"Oh, ewww!"

Grabbing the box out of her hands, Spike turned it over in his hands. "Let's see, 'gentle glide applicator... dependable protection for your most active days... super absorbent... ', you don't need to do this, pet. I'll take care of your little problem."

Snatching the box back from him, Buffy tossed it into the cart. "I'm not listening to this."

Wrapping his arms around her waist, Spike pulled her back against him. "You have no idea what it's like for a vampire. Menstrual blood is like a gourmet treat. A delicacy, you know." He nuzzled her fragrant neck, sniffing the intoxicating mixture of her own unique scent and the sweet smell of the vanilla perfume she had sprayed on earlier, before adding it to the cart.

Buffy trembled in his arms, her body melting with each tender kiss he placed on her neck. "It... it's nasty... "

"Only because women are taught to fear and feel shame for what their bodies can do. It's a miracle, Buffy, not something to hide and ridicule."

His hands had moved up to slip inside the bib of her overalls, his large, cool palms cupping her tee-shirt covered breasts, the thumbs rubbing lazy circles over her painfully-hard nipples. Blindly, she reached back to grasp his hips, grinding back into him with needy abandon.

Spike was the first to break the embrace. He snarled as Buffy whimpered in disappointment. It was going to be another night of car sex. At this rate, they'd be lucky if they made it through the check-out lane before he snapped.

---

"Did you have toys when you were little?"

Spike and Buffy were standing in the Barbie doll aisle, along with three little girls and their mother. After taking one look at Spike, with his bleached hair, black leather coat and heavy boots, the young mother had tugged her children out of the way, her eyes following Spike suspiciously.

"Nah, not really. Well, actually, I had a leather ball that the cobbler in the shop down the road from us had made me out of scraps. It was a great ball, really sturdy and just the right size."

Buffy gazed at him, trying to imagine a young Spike, or William as he had been known then. Knowing he had been a vampire for over two hundred years made it hard to picture him as anything but a night creature. Certainly not a little boy with tousled hair and scuffed knees.

"What happened to it?"

"A local bully. His name was Wilfred Tainsley. His father was a local merchant, wealthy and spoiled. He and his friends beat me bloody one night and threw it in the Thames."

Buffy tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow and lay her cheek against the cool leather of his coat. "I'm sorry."

"No matter, pet. Hey, would you look at that one! She's got a tattoo on her stomach. Since when did Barbie become such a rebel?" Spike said, picking up the pink box to get a better look at the doll inside.

"I think when she finally figured out Ken was gay."

Spike sought out the offending male counterpart and had to agree. The wanker was definitely too effeminate for the buxom doll smiling at him from behind her plastic prison. The doll, with long, honey-colored crimped hair, was dressed in a pink crocheted bra and denim shorts. With a shrug, he put the box in the cart.

Buffy grinned. "We're getting her?"

"Sure, why not? She can be our mascot. Why don't you pick her out an outfit? Something trashy."

Buffy was already sorting through the flat pink packages. "I don't think they make trashy Barbie clothes... oh, wait a minute... maybe they do. You like this one?" she asked, holding up a box with a shiny silver lame dress and black fishnet stockings.

"Looks like something that one friend of yours would wear. You know, the brunette with the big tits."

"Cordelia."

"Yeah, her. She really giving it up to that boy?"

Buffy smiled wistfully at the mention of her friends. "I don't think they had progressed to that phase in the relationship yet. For all her obvious charms, Cordelia's pretty responsible."

"That's a shame. With a body like that, she should be using it for the good of humanity."

Spike ducked the punch she tossed his direction and he started to attack her but a motion of Buffy's head towards the mother and children still in the aisle with them made him stop.

"Is it time to go yet, luv? I have a burning desire to eat you out until you scream your bloody head off," he said, loud enough to carry. With a shocked glare, the woman gathered her children and shooed them into the next aisle.

"Spike! God! You'd think you were deprived or something. Come on, I want to go look at the clothes."

"Oooh, lingerie!" he mocked.

As they left the toy department, Buffy gave him a sexy smile. "Maybe. If you're lucky."

---

"This is nice."

Buffy looked over at Spike, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "That is so beyond tacky."

Spike lifted the lace teddy on its little hanger and looked at the crotch. "Hey, it's got those tiny snaps. Makes it easy to get to the good stuff."

Reaching over, Buffy pulled the fuchsia garment out of his hands and put it back on the rack. "I'll give you easy to get out of. I wouldn't put it on to begin with. Hot pink isn't my color."

The vampire picked it back up, giving Buffy a sweet pout. "Come on, luv. Try it on for me."

Buffy had to admit that the skimpy pink teddy was much better than the last four items Spike had picked out. She took it over to the mirror and held it up to her body. It was sexy bordering on sleazy; a stretch lace bodice supported by tiny spaghetti straps flared into a tiny satin skirt.

Buffy smiled as she nonchalantly laid the item in the cart. Spike grinned. "Good choice, pet. I'm really going to enjoy ripping it off you."

"No ripping allowed, pet. Treated right, we could get days of enjoyment out of that little number," Buffy promised. "Come on, I need some real clothes. Well, what passes for real clothes at Wal-Mart. God, I miss the mall!"

Spike draped his arm over her shoulders as he steered the cart towards the Junior's department. "Just look at this way, pet. You can look back on this summer and call it your Summer of Really Hot Sex."

"Who am I going to tell? Giles? I can hear it now, 'Say, Giles, those months I ran away from home? I spent them with Spike, my supposed enemy, and had lots of really hot, nasty sex in a series of cheap motel rooms across the Southwest'. Yeah, he'd buy that one."

Spike had to agree. "He'd probably have you committed to the Council's Home for Wayward Slayers."

Buffy laughed and Spike raised a dark eyebrow. "You think I'm joking, pet?"

For an answer, Buffy pulled him into the relative seclusion of a dividing wall. Melting into his arms, she pulled his head down to his, her mouth slanting hungrily over his. Spike jerked her hard against his body, his hands roaming inside her overalls. Pushing her back into the wall, displacing several blouses, one plastic hanger cracking under the pressure of their bodies.

Spike crouched for a moment, hooking his hands under Buffy's knees and pulling them up to his waist. With a squeal, the Slayer clutched at the wall as her balance was compromised. Spike pushed himself into the cradle of her hips, his rock-hard erection pressed flush against Buffy's sex. Growling in frustration, he nipped at her full lips with his half-formed fangs.

She was trembling violently, her hands pushing inside his coat, then his shirt, her palms hot against his cool skin. Holding her in place with his body, Spike slipped one hand inside Buffy's tee-shirt, filling it with the weight of one breast, her skin so impossibly silky. His fingertips grazed her sensitive nipples, feeling the nubby texture of their aroused state. With thumb and forefinger, he lightly pinched her, hearing her hiss in his ear as he soothed the tiny hurt with the cold palm of his hand.

"Spike, damnit, stop it... come on... " she whispered, trying to squirm free.

"I'd like to come, baby, if you'd keep moving like that," Spike laughed as he nuzzled her neck, grazing her neck with his teeth as his fingers continued their assault on her nipple.

"Someone's gonna see us... "

Spike thrust hard against her, letting her feel every inch of his cock. "When we get back to the motel, I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk for a week."

Buffy lifted hazy green eyes, her expression passion-drugged as she licked her suddenly-dry lips. "Promise?"

Reluctantly, Spike let her slide to the floor, holding her as her knees crumpled. "Kitten, that's a fucking guarantee. On my honor as a demon from Hell."

"God, what is it about you?"

Spike grinned and patted himself on the chest. "It's just the natural magnetism of the demon. Admit it, luv, you enjoy the danger, as much as you enjoy the ride."

Buffy glanced in a nearby mirror, trying to pull herself back together. She tugged her tee-shirt back down and fluffed her golden hair. "The danger? You think I get off on that?"

"I know you do. It's the danger of not knowing if the demon's going to take over and kill you."

"That's perverted."

Spike shrugged and retrieved their cart. "It's your perversion, pet, not mine."

"I like the way you make me feel. You make me... forget."

She looked so little and young, standing there in her too-big overalls and ponytail. Only her lust-filled eyes and bruised lips gave her away as being anything other than a child. But, now, those eyes were filling with tears and her bottom lip trembled. Spike grabbed her and pulled her into a hug, drawing her head to his silent chest. "I'm sorry, luv. I'm a fucking rude pillock and I should be left out in the sunlight to fry. You aren't going to cry, are you now? I bloody hate it when you cry."

Her voice, muffled by his coat, sounded suspiciously close to a sob. "N-no."

"Yes, you are. Aw, baby, I'm sorry! Hush... Spike's a bad, terrible vampire... "

"N-no, you aren't... "

Spike lifted her chin with a finger and tenderly kissed away the two glittering tears streaking down her cheeks. "Don't cry now, baby. Okay? How about I buy you a puppy?"

That got the desired effect. Buffy smiled, a tremulous lifting of the corners of her lush mouth and a tentative giggle. "Spike, Wal-Mart doesn't sell puppies."

"What? They sell food for the bloody gits, why not the creature itself?"

Buffy laughed, a delighted sound that made Spike almost irrationally happy. He was still reeling from his newfound emotions where the Slayer was concerned and her every little word and gesture were like sunshine for him.

"I really don't know. Doesn't make much sense, does it?"

Spike pressed a kiss on her now-smiling lips. "No, baby, it doesn't. I'll still get you a puppy, some little fluffy, yappy thing you can carry in a purse."

"Like that lady in Scottsdale. The one at the gas station," Buffy said as she leaned into his embrace.

"Yeah, her. We'll name it Daisy or something." Spike glanced around at the clothing surrounding them. "Why don't you look for a bit? I'm gonna step out for a smoke."

Buffy nodded and took the cart. "I'll be right here. Don't kill anyone."

The vampire rolled his eyes. "I haven't killed anyone since we left Barstow."

Buffy gave him her best kick-ass look, which was considerably menacing. "And you'd better not start or I'll cut you off from the goodies."

Spike clapped a hand over his chest in mock distress. "Oh, not that! Never that! A vampire needs his goodies, you know."

"Just go, so we can finish up here and you can have all the goodies I have to offer." She turned away for a moment, then glanced at him over her shoulder. "Maybe, if you're a good vamp, I'll let you have something new tonight."

Spike didn't need to be told what that was. Buffy, although more sexually adventurous than he had ever imagined she would be, had still shied away from the idea of anal sex. Spike didn't push, preferring for Buffy to decide for herself just how far she wanted to take this strange little liaison they were sharing.

There were times when he had a hard time remembering she was just seventeen and other times when he imagined she was still a precocious child, playing at being an adult. She was an enigma to him, as changeable as the clouds in the sky. She was beautiful and warm and full of fevered emotion.

Spike was beginning to wonder if he was falling in love.

"Go on! It's already midnight! It'll be sunup before you know it. Time we could spend a lot more productively," Buffy scolded.

"Okay, okay, I'm going."

Buffy's lips curved upward in a secretive smile as she watched Spike stride towards the doors. Never in a million years would she have imagined that she would be a friend with the vampire Spike, not to mention his willing lover. More like his willing and insatiable lover. When she had run from Sunnydale that bright, beautiful morning in May, Buffy had left behind everything she knew, everything she held dear. Her mother, her friends, her Watcher.

Angel, her truest love, sent to Hell at the end of a sword wielded by her own hand.

Blinking back the tears that inevitably threatened at any thought of Angel, Buffy pushed the memory of his handsome, tortured face to the back of her mind and concentrated on spending Spike's money.

---

Spike leaned against the side of the building, legs crossed at the ankle and a cigarette smoldering between his lips. With a curiosity born of living for two centuries, he watched the variety of different people walking in and out of Wal-Mart. People so caught up in the mundane details of their short lives, oblivious to the proof of the supernatural standing not ten feet from them. Spike found it vastly amusing that the majority of the human race denied the existence of evil in their midst, when in fact they were surrounded by it every minute of every day. Only a select few, such as the Slayer, knew of the malignancy that dwelled beneath the sunny surface.

He was part of that evil, a vampire known for killing two Slayers and countless innocents. He wondered to himself every day what it was that kept him from making Buffy his third Slayer kill. But, from the first day he had laid eyes on the beautiful blonde teenager, dancing with her friends at the Bronze, he had been smitten.

He had acted on that passion by taunting her, fighting her, daring her to kill him. At first, she reacted to him as she did any vampire she faced, with cold emerald eyes and brutal fists. He had been surprised at just how strong she was. On more than one occasion, Spike had underestimated the little girl's power and nearly paid for it with his life.

When Buffy had finally consummated her relationship with Angel, loosing his demon upon the world once more, Spike had actually felt sorry for her. With perfect trust and love, she had let her vampire boyfriend have her virginity, giving herself to Angel in the heat of fear and passion. Overnight, the life had went out of her, the lively sparkle in her eyes had dimmed, turned hard with pain. Her fighting became mechanical and careless and Spike began to fear for her very existence.

It was that very concern for her, coupled with a desire to wrest Drusilla back from Angelus' clutches, that motivated Spike to propose a truce with Buffy. A truce guaranteed to end her pain and give her the means to carry on with her life.

Of course, nothing ever went right on the Hellmouth.

It was the end of July now and still Buffy refused to discuss that morning in the mansion and her final battle with Angelus. Spike had done his part, then took Drusilla out of there and away from Sunnydale. He had hoped that he would never lay eyes on the Slayer again.

And, barely three weeks later, Drusilla nothing more than a layer of ash on the floor of a gas station bathroom, Spike had found Buffy. The Slayer had been nearly unrecognizable; dirty and exhausted, with dead eyes and growling tummy. She would've been an easy kill; in fact, Spike doubted she would've even fought him, but something had stayed his hand. Tender compassion had driven him to buy her dinner and offer himself as traveling companion.

Wary and belligerent, she accepted.

Two days later, Buffy had come to his bed, fresh from another of her endless nightmares. She had sought comfort and he gave it, holding her shivering body in his arms. It had only been a matter of time before their mutual comfort turned erotic.

Stubbing out his cigarette, Spike walked back into the store. He hated being away from Buffy for any length of time, afraid every second with her would be his last. He was well aware that he was becoming obsessed with her, addicted to her dazzling smile and welcoming kisses. She was everything Drusilla had never been for him. Buffy was his heartbeat, his sunlight, his reason for living.

She was his Heaven.

Buffy had filled the cart to overflowing in his absence. Tiny slipdresses, miniskirts, tank tops, and shoes were joined by clothing for him. Tee-shirts, jeans, shirts and even underwear were piled in neat stacks.

Spike deposited the jar on top of his pile. Buffy looked up at him with a bemused smile. "Vaseline? What for?"

Pulling her into his arms for a lingering kiss, Spike chuckled. "Use your imagination, luv. What on earth could we possibly use a big jar of slippery stuff for?"

Buffy blushed deeply as she realized what he meant. "Oh!"

"The goodies, remember?"

The low-grade fever that always seemed to fill her body whenever she was around him flared into a full-fledged fire. Spike was smoothing his cool hands over the bare skin of her arms, leaving behind tiny goosebumps that she barely noticed. "Oh, yeah."

"Only if you want to, pet. You know I'd never force you to do anything you didn't like."

She smiled up at him, her green eyes luminous. "You won't let it hurt?"

He pressed a kiss on the tip of her nose. "Baby, when we get done you'll wonder why we didn't do it sooner."

Her blush deepened. "I s'pose."

"I won't let it hurt, kitten," Spike said, gathering her in his arms. Buffy pressed her face into the supple leather of his coat, letting his protective embrace soothe her fears. "I'll never let anything hurt you."

Lifting her head, Buffy smiled sweetly and was rewarded with a tender kiss. "I'm gonna need a suitcase."

Looking at the loaded cart, Spike agreed. "Me, too. At this rate, we're gonna need one of those hauling boxes."

"A what?"

"You know, pet, those orange things we've seen."

His meaning finally dawned on her. "A U-Haul."

"Yeah, one of those. We keep shopping like this, we're gonna need to set up house."

Buffy's brow furrowed at that as she couldn't repress a vision of she and Spike moving into a little house together, buying china and bath towels. "Interesting thought. Come on, let's go get that luggage and look at the music section."

Spike let her pull him towards the back of the store. "Then can we go, pet?"

She just gave him a quelling stare and dragged him along.

---

"They don't have anything good here."

"Sure they do. I'm finding stuff okay."

Spike looked at the stack of CD's she was collecting. "What? Sarah McLachlan? Sheryl Crow? The bloody Backstreet Boys?"

Buffy laid the plastic boxes in the cart. "You don't like the Backstreet Boys? They're cute."

"That ain't music, pet. Johnny Rotten, Sex Pistols, Nine Inch Nails... now that's music. And they don't have any of that here."

"Yes, they do! I saw Nine Inch Nails back there," Buffy argued as she sorted through the Jewel selections.

"It's the clean version, luv. Blasphemy."

Buffy smiled sympathetically. "Sorry."

Spike shrugged. "Ah, it's all right, baby. You go ahead and look, I'm gonna go check out the telly."

Fifteen televisions of varying size were arranged on a single wall and every one of them was playing Conan O'Brien. Spike watched about thirty seconds of the comedian's monologue before rolling his eyes in disgust and trying to change the channel. But, for some reason he couldn't fathom, all the other channels played nothing but static. He tried all of the machines that he could reach, but not a one would play anything other than Conan fucking O'Brien.

"Hey! You in the red smock. Yeah, you, d'ya see any other wankers in red smocks? Come here!"

A gawky boy about Buffy's age wandered over, looking over his shoulder as if expecting reinforcements to arrive to save him from the bleach-blonde man yelling at him. "Uh... can I help you?"

"Yes, you may. What in the bloody fuck is wrong with the telly?" Spike snapped, gesturing at the wall of Conan.

The boy stared at him for a moment, before looking back at the entrance of the Electronics department.

Damn. No reinforcements.

"It... uh... looks fine to me," he said.

Spike reached out and jabbed the channel button on one. Screen after screen of pure static played until it cycled back to Conan. "It looks fucked up to me."

"They're supposed to be like that."

"Why?"

The boy gave him a cocky look. "To keep people from messing with the channels."

Spike stared at him for a beat, his icy blue eyes boring into the boy's. Then, he took a single, menacing step towards the smart-assed kid. "What kind of stupid rule is that?"

"Hey, man, I don't make the rules, I just work here."

Spike smirked. "Work? I haven't seen you lift a single, bloody finger since I walked in here. You aren't doing your job too well, as far as I can see."

The boy had had about enough of the blond man's attitude. "Look, dude, as far as I can see, you've not done anything but stare at your trashy little girlfriend's ass since you came in here. Why don't you just take her home and fuck her and get the hell out of... "

His words died to a gurgle as Spike's fist shot out and wrapped around his throat, lifting him off the floor. "What did you say?" he growled. His eyes flashed yellow, but he managed to keep his gameface under control.

Barely.

"Spike! Let him go!" Buffy hissed, tugging on his arm. "What in the hell do you think you're doing?"

Spike lowered the gasping boy back to his feet and spun him to face Buffy. "You apologize to her right now or I'll rip your face off and feed it to you," he whispered.

Shaking in fear, the boy glared at Buffy. "I'm s-s-s-sorry."

Buffy nodded, barely hearing him. "It's okay. Come on, Spike, we're going now."

"Hey! You have to pay for... never mind," the clerk said as Buffy pulled Spike out of the Electronics department.

---

"What in the hell was that all about? I turn my back for a minute and you're shaking the salesclerks around by the neck!" Buffy snapped as she pushed the cart towards the front of the store.

Spike followed glumly, lugging the two large suitcases they had picked out. "Did you hear what he said about you, luv? He called you trashy. You are the farthest thing from trashy I've ever seen. I mean, if he only knew! You're an innocent, practically a virgin!"

Buffy spun on him so quickly he stumbled back. "Will you keep your voice down? I'd rather not announce to all of Wal-Mart my sexual status!"

"Sorry, luv, but that pillock pissed me off. Who's he think he is anyway? He should be so lucky as to have a sexy little girl like you pay him any attention at all." Spike scuffed his foot on the tile floor, looking for all the world like a sulky child. Buffy's anger melted and she took his hand, lacing her fingers in his.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell, I just get in Slayer mode sometimes and, well, you know how I get."

"I know, protective and all that rot."

Buffy linked her arm through his. "Then, how about we go home? I'm starting to get really... "

"Fucking tired of this place?"

"Well, I was thinking horny, but that too."

Spike squeezed her. "Horny works. Let's get the hell out of here."

"We have to pay first. Come on, let's get in line."

---

Spike was pretty sure that he was going to throttle the toddler in the cart in front of him. Desperately, he scanned the other checkout lanes, but only three were open and all three were full. Another piercing shriek from the curly-haired child made the vampire visibly cringe. Leaning towards Buffy, he tilted his head at the child. "How come the very minute we decide to pay, every other shopper in the store decides to do the same thing? I hate shopping and I hate CHILDREN!"

The child stopped screaming for a split second, watery blue eyes staring at him. Then, taking a deep, bracing breath, she began to wail. The harried-looking mother placing her purchases on the conveyor turned and gave the little girl an exasperated look. "Lorri, SHUT UP!"

Lorri ignored her mother and contented herself with screaming until she began to turn an interesting shade of purple. Spike grimaced as he watched the variety of fluids pour from the child's face.

"I suppose you want a houseful of those," he asked Buffy, who was doing an excellent job of ignoring the toddler.

Buffy looked up and smiled at the little girl. Reaching out a hand, she tickled a plump, bare foot. Her tears magically drying, Lorri grinned at the pretty blonde. "Oh, they aren't so bad. I think sometimes that I'd like to have a couple. Not just one, though. I was an only child and I would've always liked a brother or sister."

Lorri reached out her tiny arms and grunted, wanting Buffy to take her in her arms. With a wistful smile, Buffy ruffled the curly head. "I can't hold you, baby. Your mommy wouldn't like it."

As Spike put their purchases on the conveyor belt, he watched as Buffy teased the little girl, her face glowing with happiness. For the first time in over two hundred years, he cursed himself for what he was. A vampire, unable to give the mortal woman he loved the things that could make her happy. A normal life, sunlit picnics at the beach, children. All of the things that would make Buffy's life perfect.

For the first time, Spike truly understood why Angel had been so madly in love with Buffy and why that love had been so terribly bittersweet.

"Honey? Spike? Are you okay? Spike?"

Spike looked down to see Buffy tugging on his sleeve, her expression anxious. With a growl, Spike swept her up into his arms, burying his face into the fragrant heat of her neck. "Ahh, baby, I don't deserve you! I should be staked dead for presuming to touch your perfection."

Buffy wrapped her arms around his shoulders, not caring that they were getting some dirty looks and raised eyebrows. "Perfection? I don't know about that, I mean, have you even looked at me tonight?"

Before she could continue, the vampire captured her lips in a bruising, ravenous kiss, pushing her back into their cart. It rolled forward, smacking into Lorri's cart and sending the child into shrieks once more.

"Lorri, goddamnit... well, for God's sake, get a room!" Lorri's mother said as she turned to chastise her child and caught a glimpse of Spike and Buffy's rapidly heating ardor.

Spike tore his mouth from Buffy's long enough to grin at the woman, not aware that he was partially vamped-out. "Why bother with a room? We could just fuck right here." Before Buffy could protest, Spike lifted her up onto the conveyor and pulled her legs around his waist.

"Spike, stop it!" Buffy cried, trying hard not to laugh. The salesclerk snapped out of her boredom and started to protest.

"Hey! Hey! You can't do that!"

Spike rotated his hips against Buffy's sex, sending her once more into a fit of giggles. "Watch me."

"Spike, come on, let me down. Let's just pay and get the hell out of here," Buffy whispered, giving their small audience an apologetic smile. The mother huffed in disgust and wheeled her cart, filled with shopping bags and a screaming Lorri, towards the door. The salesclerk reached for the phone.

"If you don't stop it, I'm calling security!" she threatened.

Buffy pushed Spike off of her and hopped down from the conveyor. "No, please. He was just playing. We'll be good now, I promise."

Still filled with Buffy's intoxicating scent, Spike struggled to calm himself. He could smell the sweet aroma of her arousal, mixed with vanilla and tears. His cock ached so bad he thought it was just going to explode in his jeans. Buffy smiled back at him and slipped her tiny hand in his. Curling his fingers around hers, Spike pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

They had attracted a fair amount of attention. The salesclerk still shot an occasional suspicious glare their direction, as if expecting any minute for Spike to throw Buffy on the conveyor and have at it. Buffy's fingers were dancing on the inside of his hand, her head pillowed against his chest. He caressed his cheek against her silky hair, his mind filled with naughty visions of all the things he was going to do to the little Slayer as soon as they got back to the motel.

"Your total is $723.47."

Buffy's head shot up and she gaped at the clerk. "What? What on earth did we buy?"

The amount didn't even phase Spike. Removing his wallet, he peeled eight one hundred dollar bills from the thick stash. Handing them to the clerk, he smiled softly down at his lover. "That's nothing, pet. Anything for you."

Buffy wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed the small vee of pale skin exposed by the neck of his shirt. "You're so good to me."

"I don't deserve you," he said, repeating his earlier words.

"That's not so. You care about me and I care about you. What more do we need?"

Glancing at the multitude of bags being placed in their cart, he laughed. "Some donkeys to pack our purchases to the car?"

Buffy laughed, a bright, joyous sound. "Take me home and make love to me."

"With pleasure, kitten."

As they pushed the bag-laden cart to the door, Buffy leaned towards Spike.

"So, if we get all these bags in the trunk, can we do it in the car again?"

Spike grinned. "As long as you don't put me in a head-lock with your thighs like you did last time. I couldn't move my head for three days."

"Spike, my love, that was the whole point."

 

The End

 

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