destructo-girl.com

"How much longer do we have left?" Buffy asked, thumping her head down on an open book.

"A month," Willow answered, not looking up from the computer.

"That's a month too long," Xander stated while attempting to balance a pencil on his nose.

"Understatement," Buffy replied. "I don't know how much more of Carruthers I can take before I stake him where the sun don't shine."

"Doesn't sound comfortable," Oz said.

The four friends were gathered in the 'new' Slayer Central, a small section in the stacks of the University of Sunnydale's library they'd claimed as their own. Since starting school, Giles had obtained a position within the library as reference assistant for the mythology sections. The former Watcher's office, located in a far obscure corner of the library, was large enough to house most of the books pertinent to the Slayer's opponents.

Many a night had been spent sleeping on the various hard surfaces in that small section of the twenty-four hour library, as they researched whatever nasty that plagued Sunnydale that week. And with the number of different and scary creatures they'd fought against, each of them thought that nothing could come as a surprise anymore.

They were wrong.

"Hey Oz, when's the next Dingo's gig?" Xander asked, pencil balanced.

"Tonight at the Bronze," Oz replied. "We've been getting a lot of play there lately. Don't understand why."

"Maybe it's because you guys play for peanuts," Buffy suggested.

"We've moved up from peanuts to cashews last week," Oz corrected. "Next stop -- almonds."

"Um, guys?" Willow said. "Do we want to know about the glowing green corpses found at the flower shop?"

"No," Buffy and Xander simultaneously replied.

"Oh, ok," Willow said. "Looks like we have another candidate for slay-" Someone came around the corner and she changed course mid-sentence. "-rides. But, there's no snow, so it will be hard."

But no one was listening to her. They were to busy staring at the newcomer.

"Um, hello," he said, ducking his head shyly. "I was told I could get, uh, books. For class. Here."

They continued to stare at him.

"This is the library, correct?" he asked, eyes going from person to person before looking back down at his shoes. "Mythology section?"

"Buffy, do you suppose that-" Giles began as he exited his office, book in hand. "-if Angel were to-" He looked up and saw the newcomer. "-to-to-to...good heavens."

The newcomer's black t-shirt and jeans, long leather duster, peroxide blond hair and familiar facial features, including the bright blue eyes hidden behind a pair of wire rimmed glasses, shocked each and every one of those in the room to silence. Standing in front of them, in the middle of the day, was Spike.

"I can come back," he said, turning to go.

"No!" Buffy and Giles said loudly at once.

The Slayer quickly crossed the room and grabbed him by the shirt, pushing him up against a table. His hands flailed out and smacked down behind him on the table when he hit it. "Spike, I don't know what your game is, but it's not going to work," she practically growled.

"S-Spike?" the blond asked, confusion and fear written all over his face. "M-My name is-is Will. Will-William Sullivan. I've only transferred this semester and-and...bloody hell." He swallowed nervously, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"Right, and I'm Kermit and this is the rest of the Muppet cast," Buffy scoffed.

"Buffy, look," Willow said in an amazed voice from behind the table. Buffy looked past the blond and at Willow was pointing at. Under the tips of his black nailpolished left hand was a large, wooden crucifix that someone had left out.

And it was doing nothing to him.

Buffy released him and stepped back. "O-k," she drew out. "We all agree that we see Spike, right?"

"I do," Xander said.

"But he didn't...ssssss," Willow said, making a sizzling noise and gesturing to the cross.

"Um, I-I think I'm going to go now," Will said, straightening and inching towards the way he came.

"Wait," Buffy said, putting her arm on his. He flinched and the Slayer made a apologetic face. "I'm sorry. It's just that you look exactly like this guy we know..."

"Spike," Will said. "So I bloody gathered."

"This is too wiggy," Xander said. "He even sounds like the bleached-wonder."

"Buffy, you a-and Willow have been the closest to-to Spike. Is there any difference what-so-ever?" Giles asked.

Will leaned back as Buffy leaned closer, her hand still clamped on his arm. He pushed up his glasses and stared at her, wide-eyed. Turning his head, he saw the redhead behind the table studying him, as well. "I'm not this-this Spike person. Honest."

"How old are you?" Willow asked, not seeing any differences.

"Eighteen," Will answered. "I'll be nineteen next month. Can I go now?"

"Y-Yes, of course," Giles said, gesturing to Buffy to release him. "Oh, did you say you needed texts?"

"I'll get them another time," Will said. He looked from person to person, then practically fled from that area of the library.

"I can't tell, Giles," Buffy said, staring after Will with a frown on her face.

"I pulled up his file," Willow said, moving the mouse with practiced ease. "William Bradley Sullivan, freshman. Born 5/3/82. Transfer from Warrington in England. Ooh, he's a brain. GPA: 4.0 on a 4.0 scale."

"Does it have any details that can confirm he's not Spike?" Buffy asked. "Like human stuff?"

"I'll check," Willow said. She clicked several times on the mouse. "Here's his medical record. He's had all his immunizations, the measles in 1985, is allergic to bee stings. Looks human to me."

"Either that, or he went to a lot of work to look human," Oz said.

"That's a pretty elaborate trick," Xander said. "Spike'd be risking a permanent reduction in size if he used a spell to protect him from the sun. Is there a spell like that, Wills?"

"Not that I know of," Willow replied.

"Nor I," Giles added. "Perhaps a little research is-is in order."

The bell rang. "Sorry, Giles, class," Buffy said with a relieved smile. She picked up her bag and quickly left.

"Sorry, G-man, gotta fly," Xander said, grabbing his books and following behind Buffy.

"Bye, Giles," Willow said, walking around the counter. Oz put his arm around her shoulder and they left as well.

"I guess I shall be doing research on my own," Giles said to himself.

"Good morning, Mr. Giles," Wesley said, stepping out of the stacks.

"I would rather be doing research on my own," Giles muttered.

"So, what do you think it could be?" Willow asked Buffy in their class. Will was in the elective class, as well, and he kept darting glances back at the two girls. "Do you think that this guy just really looks like Spike? Or are they the same person...er, vampire?"

"I don't know, Wills," Buffy replied. "This is the Hellmouth. Coincidences don't exists here."

"Maybe a spell, like Xander suggested?" Willow said.

"I think Angel was the magick user of their little 'family'," Buffy said. "Drusilla got the visions and Spike was...well, I don't know what he was. Entertainment?"

Willow giggled. "Yeah, he played the kazoo."

"And had those little knee cymbals," Buffy added with a grin. "Oh hey, I know. We can ask him if he knows Drusilla. If he flinches or ticks or twitches or whatever people do when they lie, we'll know it's Spike."

"And if it isn't?" Willow asked.

"If it isn't, I think Giles was on the right track with the research," Buffy said. "Joy."

Xander approached Cordelia, who had returned to Sunnydale a month before, with a Polaroid camera around his neck. "Cordelia, hold up," he said.

"And here I thought I'd have a Xander-free day," Cordelia said with a sigh. "What do you want?"

"I'm on a mission from God," Xander quipped. She rolled her eyes and started to walk away. He fell into step with her. "No, really. Well, it's Giles, but that's close enough in my book."

"Xander, the point. Get to it," she said.

"I need to get a picture of the new kid," Xander said. "But we already freaked him out once today, so if I just come up to him and say 'hey, I'm going to take your picture now', I think he'd report us to the mental health committee and they'd lock us in those little padded rooms."

"And why would I want to prevent that?" Cordelia asked.

"Funny," he said. "Anyway, I need a decoy."

"Do I look like a duck?" she said, glaring at him.

"Please, Cord. Once you see this guy, you'll know why we need the pics," Xander said. "I'll make it worth your while."

"How?" she asked.

"I won't talk to you for an entire day," he answered, giving her his boyish grin. "So, what do you say?" He held up the camera. "Cheese?"

"Fine. But only because I look really good today."

"Great," Xander said. "Willow pulled up his schedule. He's got AP Physics at eleven."

"You want me to pose with a male Willow?" Cordelia said. "Ugh, the things I do for you losers."

"Fresh from the photo lab," Xander said, entering the back corner of the library with Cordelia. He waved several Polaroids in the air. "You'll have to ignore the blemish on them. I couldn't airbrush Cordy out."

"Can your day start now?" Cordelia said.

"M-Miss Chase," Wesley greeted, a bit uncomfortably. "I...Did you have a, er, pleasant day?"

"It was fine until someone-," she glared at Xander, "-made me pose with Spike."

"You think he looks like Spike, too?" Willow said, behind the computer once again.

"I nearly died when I saw him," Cordelia replied. "It was very traumatic."

"Well, thank you, Cordelia, for your suffering in order to get the photos," Giles said wryly, taking the picture from Xander. "It is most appreciative."

"Ooh! I found something," Willow said excitedly. "I've been tracing William's genealogy through the available Internet resources, and I got as far back as 1806. Get this, there are ten matching dates of death for that year."

"1806, you say?" Giles said. "That would be about the correct year for Spike to-to have been, er, turned."

"That's what I thought," Willow said. "So I looked up past newspaper articles for the area during that year and this is what I found. 'A gruesome scene greeted officers on the night of 25 March at number 12 Parker Street. Ten members of the Sullivan family were found butchered in their home.' I won't read the details, but at then end it says: 'Two sons of Bradley Sullivan, William Bradley, aged 24, and John Thomas, aged 21, were not found in the home. Any information regarding either one is to be brought to the attention of Chief Inspector Hadley, Warrington.'"

"Didn't you say that William was Spike's name back when he wanted to kill us all on St. Vigeous, but he showed up on Parent-Teacher night because he has a severe impulse-control problem?" Cordelia asked, looking at Giles.

"Yes," Giles replied with slight amazement. "William the Bloody. Remarkable memory, Cordelia."

"I got locked in a closet with Willow," Cordelia said. "That's a trauma I'll never forget."

Willow rolled her eyes, then continued. "John Thomas married Elsie Montgomery in 1813. They had two children, Matthew and Louisa. The Sullivan line continues right to William Bradley Sullivan, current student at University of Sunnydale."

"That means this guy isn't Spike," Xander said. "He's Spike's great-great-great-great, um, throw another couple greats in there, nephew."

"So it would appear," Giles said. "However, the fact that this young man is identical in resemblance to Spike is, er, highly unusual."

"I concur," Wesley said. "Marriage to different linages would bring in differing DNA, causing each generation to loose resemblance to the prior one."

"Back to the theory that William and Spike are one in the same?" Willow asked Giles.

"For the time being," Giles replied. "I have sent Buffy to Willy's to see if she may ascertain Spike's whereabouts."

"Mexico," Willy said.

"I thought he was going back to Brazil?" Buffy said, leaning against the counter at the Alibi Room.

"Hey, my sources peg him in Mexico," Willy replied. "In some town called Tampico."

"Thanks," Buffy told him, turning to leave.

"If I can ask, Slayer," Willy said. "Why are you interested anyway? I thought you and Angel kissed and made up."

"None of your business, Willy," Buffy replied.

"Sure, Slayer. Whatever you say," Willy said to her retreating back. When she was gone, the unconventional bartender whistled. "I guess the skinny on her being over Angel was right."

"According to Willy, Spike's in Mexico," Buffy said a short while later back at the library.

"I thought you said he was going back to Brazil?" Willow said.

Buffy shrugged. "Maybe he got sidetracked."

"Do you trust this Willy's character?" Wesley asked. "He could very well be lying to you."

"Not to the Buffster," Xander said. "Not if Willy doesn't want to wear his eyeballs inside out."

"Xander, eew," Cordelia said. "That's disgusting."

"You should see what Buff can do with someone's small intestines," Xander said maliciously to the brunette.

"Before all of us lose our lunch," Buffy said, glaring at Xander. "What do you think we should do?"

"Road trip!" Willow answered excitedly. "It's Spring Break next week. We could go down to Mexico and see if Spike's Spike." She grinned at Oz, who'd joined the group just before Buffy returned. "Spike's Spike. Hee."

"Full moon for me," Oz said, shaking his head. "I couldn't go."

"Oh, then I wouldn't go, either," she said. Then added, before Oz could contradict, "Someone needs to be here for you and I doubt my parents would let me go anyway."

"Don't look at me," Cordelia said. "I'm not going anywhere with or for you losers. Even if it is Mexico. It's probably a hole-in-the-wall town with no descent mirrors for miles."

"I can go," Xander said. "If someone else provided the fundage."

"The Council cannot condone unnecessary expenditures for non-Slayer-type activities," Wesley stated. "However, I do agree that this matter warrants further investigation."

"Let me guess," Buffy said. "You want to go to Mexico."

"Not I," Wesley said. "You alone."

"Me?" Buffy frowned. "Why me? Not that I wouldn't mind a trip to Mexico..."

"You are the Slayer," Wesley explained. "Funds can be provided for a week long holiday to Central America in conjunction with your sacred duties."

"But what about patrol?" Buffy asked.

"I am sure we can handle it," Giles said, agreeing with Wesley, for once. He lowered his voice so only she could hear. "Plus, I'd wager you wouldn't mind a holiday away from the Hellmouth. You can think of it as a belated birthday gift."

"Boy, if you guys are serious, you don't have to ask me twice," Buffy said. Both Giles and Wesley nodded. Buffy grinned. "Cool. I'm going to Mexico."

"With the express purpose of finding, er, this Spike and ascertaining if he and William Sullivan are one in the same," Wesley said. "If they are not, it is your duty to slay the vampire."

"That I can do," Buffy said, standing. "However, convincing my mom to let me go to another country is going to be a laugh a minute. Especially alone. Wait, why am I going alone? And why did I just ask that?"

"Mr. Giles is no longer your Watcher and I feel that you can accomplish this assignment without supervision," Wesley told her.

"You know, I'm liking you more and more, Wesley." Buffy grinned. "Looks like I'm going to Mexico."

Buffy stretched, working the kinks out of her body from the cramped flight. Tampico, Mexico was located on the Gulf of Mexico, and during this part of the year, was a tourist town. Beaches were packed with Spring Break students during the day, and at night, they frequented the many dance clubs within the small city. It was a perfect place for a vampire.

Grabbing her large duffle, the Slayer headed out of the airport to the bus depot. She'd been given pesos and centavos before leaving Sunnydale, as well as a long-winded speech about the costs in Mexico. The bus ride would cost only twenty centavos, no matter how far she rode it.

The motel she was staying at was located along the beach, courtesy of Giles. She saw many college students, so she didn't feel as out of place as she did on the bus ride over. Her room, located on the third floor, was small and simple, with a double bed, television bolted to the wall, two night stands and a bathroom. The walls were done in white stucco, and she had a sliding glass door that led out onto a balcony overlooking the ocean. It also had a safe, and she'd been given the key upon check-in.

"So, Buffy, what to do first," Buffy said to herself as she unpacked her bag. "Beach or Spike? Hmm, tough choice."

Twenty minutes later, the Slayer's opponent was a killer tan.

Armed with the Polaroids of William Sullivan, a few strategically hidden stakes, and her dancing shoes, Buffy hunted for Spike. The clubs along the strip were packed and jumping, and she was in constant danger of getting pulled out for a dance. Not that she tried very hard to prevent it.

Her strategy was simple, show the bartenders the pictures and ask if they'd seen him. By mid-week of her free vacation, she'd been to over fifty clubs, learned how to dance the salsa and the samba, and been propositioned with every line in the book, but still no Spike.

She moved from the strip into the small city on her search, leaving the highly populated student crowds for more local ones. Her dark tan helped her blend in better, but her blond hair and hazel eyes were a dead giveaway that she was not from Tampico. Luckily, with her Slayer strength, she was not afraid of the danger that would normally represent. A few tight squeezes on arms or hands until bones snapped normally deterred would-be problems.

Entering yet another nondescript Latin club, Buffy surveyed the early crowd with a casual eye. Most of the clubs didn't really start doing business until after ten, so she saved the more popular ones for that hour. But she did not want to neglect her duty by not going to each and every one.

This particular club was set up like an old Spanish hacienda, with walls of dark adobe brick, stone stairs and a hard, stone floor. A band was playing on a platform against the left wall, and a dance floor spread in front of it, lit by low, white lighting. The bar itself was small, running along the back wall, with a dark wood counter and stools in front of it. A hallway led off behind it and she recognized the Spanish word for restrooms.

The rest of the club had small tables and chairs set up a few steps from the dance floor. The furnishings were all black, with flickering candle centerpieces. Around the room were streamers and paper chains in decoration, along with a few pi�atas. The whole setup reminded Buffy of the outdoor dance area in the movie The Mask of Zorro with Antonio Banderas. So much, in fact, that she expected the actor, dressed in period garb, to come out with Catherine Zeta-Jones and begin dancing.

Making her way to the bar, she slid onto a stool, adjusting her mid-thigh, light-blue sundress as she sat, and got the bartender's attention.

"S�, se�orita?" he asked.

"Coca-Cola de una botella," Buffy told him using one of the handy Spanish phrases she'd learned. "Por favor."

The bartender moved away and returned shortly with a Coke in a 16-ounce bottle. He pulled off the cap in front of her, then set it down on the counter. "Gracias," she said, pulling the pictures out of her hidden pocket, along with a peso. She set the pink bill on the counter and smiled at the man.

"Perd�n," she began, holding up the photos. "El muchacho. Su lo...um..., see...er, seea. What's that word?"

"Vea"

Buffy looked to her right and saw a perfect stereotype of a Mexican se�orita sitting on another stool. Her dark hair was pulled up in a simple twist, her dark eyes observed Buffy curiously. She was dressed in a white peasant blouse, which showed off perfect mocha skin and ample cleavage, and a dark-blue loose skirt that went down to mid-calf, and she wore black, strappy heels. "Do you speak English?"

"S�," the woman replied.

"Oh good," Buffy sighed in relief. She'd had more trouble remembering the correct phrase and usually had to do with gestures and absurd charades. "Can you ask him if he's seen this person?"

Buffy handed her the photos and the woman's dark brow arched at the same time an amused smile crossed her lips. "And why are you looking for him, ni�a?"

*Child?* Buffy thought, her eyes narrowing in anger. "None of your business."

The woman shrugged. "I was only asking," she said, then began speaking rapid Spanish to the bartender. "I am sorry, he has not seen your friend."

"I never said Spike was my friend," Buffy said, taking the pictures back.

"Then why do you seek him?" the woman asked.

"His, er, brother asked me to, um, look him up since I was going to be here," Buffy lied.

"I see."

"El diablo rubio estar� aqui en una hora," the bartender said, gesturing to the photos.

"Juan, callate," the woman snapped.

"Here in an hour?" Buffy translated, then glared at the woman. "I thought you said the bartender hadn't seen him."

"Ni�a, el diablo rubio is not interested in you," she said. She smiled cruelly. "The blond devil needs a real woman to warm his bed, not an infant."

Buffy's eyes narrowed, but she refrained herself from wiping the woman's smug smile off of her face. Instead, she smiled at the bartender. "Gracias, se�or. Una hora." He nodded and smiled back at her. Then, shooting a scathing glare at the woman, she left the bar with her soda.

The patronage at the club picked up as ten o'clock rolled around. Buffy had finished her Coke long before while sitting at a corner table, people watching. Every so often, she would glare daggers at the Latin senorita at the bar until the woman got up to dance. Then she glared daggers at the woman on the floor, but they were ones of jealousy. The woman could really dance.

The live Mexican band played everything from current top-forty Latin hits to traditional. Buffy watched as people sambaed, tangoed, salsaed, rhumbaed and cha-cha'd as the music changed. The fast songs were very catching, and the Slayer wanted to dance, but she forced herself to wait for Spike's appearance. She told several young hombres "luego" and gave them promising smiles.

Eleven o'clock crept closer and still no sign of the blond vampire. She was debating whether or not to give up and try another club, or take up the dance offers, when she saw him. Her jaw hit the floor and her eyes grew round as circles at his appearance. *Oh. My. God. Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot. Wow,* she thought, as he moved through the crowd with graceful ease.

Spike's white-blond hair was slightly longer and it shone in sharp contrast to the predominately dark-haired patrons of the club. His pale, marblesque skin was in equal disparity with the Latin crowd. His clothing, however, was what caught her attention. Gone were the black jeans, matching t-shirt and leather duster. In their place was a loose, dark green shirt tucked into a pair of black chinos that outlined his leg muscles with each step he took.

To her fertile imagination, he looked like a rogue or a pirate or one very sexy man. *Bad Buffy, don't think of Spike as sexy,* she thought as she watched him walk towards the dance floor. *Sexy is bad. Sexy is very bad. Sexy does not equal Spike, so stop drooling.*

Buffy watched as women flocked around him like he was an idol, and she felt a bolt of jealousy shoot through her. Cursing them under her breath, she shifted in her seat to be able to see him better. She saw the woman from earlier make a beeline for him and she invented new obscenities to describe her.

Then she saw him smile at the woman and pull her up against him, and her cursing turned into a low growl before she managed to stop herself. *Get a grip, Buffy. This is Spike. Who cares if that Latina Barbie is plastered up against him like paint to a wall. Jeez, could you maybe let him breathe a little, lady?* She realized the stupidity of her last thought and groaned.

The band effortlessly slid from the song it had been playing to a new one. She recognized it immediately, having heard the Ricky Martin hit on the radio over and over again back home. She looked around for the Latin superstar, wondering if the band was just doing a cover or if he was actually at the club.

Instead of finding the performer, she found the patrons on the dance floor clearing a spot, just like in the movies, with Spike and the woman in the middle. Buffy stood up and moved to the edge of the seating area as the lyrics of the song began in Spanish. Her eyes widened again when she saw them begin to dance. *Spike can dance?!*

La reina de la noche La diosa del vud� Yo no podr� salvarme Podr�s salvarte t�? La tela de la ara�a La u�a del drag�n Te lleva a los infiernos Ella es tu adicci�n Te besa y te desnuda con su baile demencial T� cierras los ojitos y te dejas arrastrar, T� te dejas arrastrar...

*Ho-boy, can Spike dance,* Buffy thought, watching them on the dance floor. The two of them flowed together to the quick salsa, their movements smooth and graceful, and at the same time quick and exciting. They used the entire area that had been cleared away, and the Slayer wondered briefly if this was a nightly occurrence.

Ella que ser� She's livin' la vida loca Y te doler� Si de verdad te toca Ella es tu final, Vive la vida loca Ella te dir� Vive la vida loca Vive la vida loca She's livin' la vida loca.

Buffy was getting hot from just watching them. She imagined what it would be like to dance with Spike like that, and she flushed as desire rushed through her system. She wanted his hand to be up on her thigh like it was that woman's, to have him pressed up behind her, his hands running down her upraised arms to barely miss brushing over her breasts before traveling to her waist.

Se fue a New York City A la torre de un hotel Te ha robado la cartera Se ha llevado hasta tu piel. Por eso no beb�a, De tu copa de licor Por eso te besaba Con nanrc�tico sabor, Es el beso de calor...

*Oh god, I want Spike!* she thought with horror. *I can't want Spike. He's...he's...Spike!* But as he twirled the woman away from him and brought her flush up against his body, so they were pressed intimately together, she felt her vaginal muscles clench and the flood of wetness that she hadn't felt in a long time. She really wanted Spike. She was in deep, deep trouble.

Suddenly, her mind flashed to the one part of the video, where Ricky Martin and the girl were on a settee, and she was very much sans clothing. The images of herself and Spike superimposed over the two in the video, and she grabbed the low railing before her knees went out from under her. She shook the image away, but it was replaced by Spike provocatively dancing with her instead of the woman.

Te besa y te desnuda con su baile demencial, T� cierras los ojitos y te dejas arrastrar, T� te dejas arrastrar... Ella que ser� She's livin' la vida loca, Y te doler� Si de verdad te toca Ella es tu final Vive la vida loca Ella te dir'a Vive la vida loca

*I don't think I can take much more,* Buffy thought as she watched them. Spike held the woman and slowly dipped her back until her head was almost touching the ground, her body pressed between his strong legs. His tongue shot out and licked the hollow of her throat and a shock ran through the Slayer. She could almost feel him doing the same to her and she made a small sound of sexual want.

Vive la vida loca, beb�, Livin', livin', livin' la vi!

The song ended and the band started a new one immediately to a smattering of applause. Dancers returned to the floor, making Spike disappear in the sea of people. Standing on her toes, Buffy searched for that shock of peroxide-blond hair and finally found him heading towards the bar. Rushing over to the bar herself, she managed to claim a stool and put on an air of disinterest before he approached. Her heart, however, was pounding and she felt like a live wire, her skin tingling.

"Juan, la aqua diablo, por favor," she heard Spike say to the bartender, the Spanish words rolling off his lips with ease. The British accent sent shivers down her spine. *Stop. Wanting. Spike!* she told herself firmly. *He is evil. Bad. Rude. Sexy. Wants to kill you. Wait, I heard that sexy slip in.*

She was so into convincing herself not to want Spike, she almost missed when he spotted her. Catching herself from making a complete fool of herself by calling him sexy to his face, Buffy put on her best 'I'm here to make you into a pile of ashes' smile and said, "Hello, Spike. Fancy meeting you here."

*Holy shit, the Slayer!* Spike thought, his eyes widening in surprise. Buffy was someone he never ever thought he'd see again, especially not in Mexico wearing a tight blue sundress that set off her dark tan and made him want to find out if she had tan lines. *Bloody hell!*

Buying himself some time to regroup, he grabbed the shot Juan set on the bar and tossed it back. The 'devil water', as Juan's specialty drink was called, burned its way down to his stomach. He'd normally have a second one before finding a willing woman for the night, like the one he'd been dancing with, but the appearance of the blond beauty sitting on the stool near him dashed all thoughts of bedding one of them. Not when his fantasy was right there.

"Slayer," Spike finally greeted in return. He set the shot glass on the bar and shook his head no when Juan went to refill it. He concentrated on sounding as disinterested as possible and speaking in English. He'd been in Mexico long enough to have slipped into speaking the dialect without thinking first, such was his aptitude for languages, except Latin, but that wasn't a common language to know. He also rarely met anyone who spoke English unless he went down to the strip, which wasn't too often. "What brings you all the way from Sunnyhell?"

"I heard that you were doing the Fred Astaire thing, so I thought I'd come down and see for myself," Buffy replied, a smirk on her face. She slowly looked him over from head to toe, blatantly pausing at the tightness over his crotch, before returning her eyes to his face. It only caused her to become more aroused, but she wanted to at least try to look like she didn't care. "Nice outfit."

He shrugged. "It's only clothing."

"This coming from a man who hasn't changed his in decades," she said. Crossing her legs, she felt a tingle of pleasure course through her when his eyes darted to them. *Spike, remember? No more vampires,* she told herself. Then she uncrossed her legs and re-crossed them the other direction on purpose, just to see him look at them again. He didn't disappoint her.

*Cor, does the little chit know what's she's doing?* Spike thought, his eyes tracing the vast expanse of thigh that was showing as she re-crossed her legs. Turning his body to face the bar so she wouldn't see the effect she was having on his libido, he asked, "How's the great poofwad?"

Buffy frowned. She didn't want to think of Angel. She wanted to find a nice, solid table and screw Spike on it. *Woah! Down girl. Sleeping with the enemy is a name to a movie, not something to do in real life,* she told herself. "Angel is fine."

He arched a brow at the tightness of her words. "Trouble on Lover's Lane?"

"Spike, drop dead," she growled.

A slow smile crossed his face. "Too late."

"Now I know why I wanted you to leave a year and a half ago," she muttered, turning on the stool to face the bar, trying not to let his sexy smile excite her further. She didn't notice that her action caused her dress to ride up even higher, almost baring her hip.

Spike noticed, and growled low and deep in his chest. She looked over at him with a frown and he clenched his teeth together and forced his gaze away from the tan length of her leg. He was literally aching to find out if she had tan lines. "Slayer, why are you here?" he ground out.

"Why am I here?" Buffy repeated, then blushed. *Good going, Buffy. Sound like a complete moron, why don't you.* She pulled the pictures from her pocket and looked at them. It was funny now that she was less than two feet from Spike, she knew that he and William were not one in the same. "Actually, I came looking for you."

He blinked at her in surprise. "Qu�?"

She put the pictures on the bar and slid them towards him. "I got to come to Mexico for the week to find you. All expenses paid, courtesy of the Watcher's Council. Cool, huh?"

"Er, right," Spike replied, taking the pictures. He frowned when he saw them. "Where'd you get pictures of me?"

"That's not you," Buffy said. He turned his frown on her. "His name is William Bradley Sullivan. He's a transfer freshman at USunnydale."

Spike jerked his gaze back to the pictures in shock. "Pero ese es mi nombre!" he blurted before he could stop himself. *Good going, wanker.*

"I know it's your name," she replied smugly. "William Bradley Sullivan, born April 16, 1782 to Bradley Joseph and Mary Eloise Sullivan. You had six siblings; two brothers and two sisters, a brother-in-law, a sister-in-law, one niece and two nephews. You killed everyone but your brother, John, on March 25, 1806. He got married in 1813 and you're looking at your great-great-great-great-great-great nephew. Well, I think that's enough greats."

"Bugger," Spike said, leaning heavily against the bar. "I thought John Thomas died from the influenza while he was in the military."

"Don't sound too excited about still having family, Spike," Buffy said, taking the pictures away from him. She looked at them once more, then tucked them in her hidden pocket. William really didn't look anything like Spike, and she wondered why she didn't realize it sooner.

Spike wasn't paying attention to her words, however, he was too busy turning over the fact that he hadn't killed his brother in his mind. When he'd been turned by Angelus, the first thing they'd done was to go to his home and murder his family. Back then, it had been a thrill and a powerful rush, now that he looked back on it, it was more of a blemish on his mind rather than something to be proud of. What kind of tosser killed their own family?

"Hey, birthday boy," Buffy said, waving her hand in front of his face. "You home in there?"

Spike turned and scowled at her. "It's not my birthday."

"It is on Saturday," she replied. "Let's see that would make you..."

She leaned forward on her elbows on the bar and Spike had a clear view down the front of her dress. *Cor, I don't see any bloody tan lines!* His lessening libido sprang right back up to attention at the thought.

"...Really, really old," she finished.

"Two-eighteen," he supplied in a forceful outrush of unneeded breath.

"I should bake you a big stake," Buffy said with a large grin. "Oops, my bad. I mean cake."

"Funny," he said.

Elena, the woman he'd been dancing with, approached him from the opposite side and slid her arm around his waist. "Diablo rubio, d�nde as estado?"

"Aqu�, Elena," Spike answered. He glanced at Buffy and saw that she was glaring daggers at the woman. *Is the Slayer jealous?* He reached down to Elena's other arm, which was resting on the bar in front of them, and stroked her dark skin. Buffy's eyes narrowed even further and her fists clenched. A purely male smile crossed his face. *She's jealous!*

"Qui�n es la ni�a?" Elena asked.

"Elena, esta es la pantera rubia," Spike said. "Slayer, this is Elena."

"We've met," Buffy said through clenched teeth.

*This could be good,* Spike thought. "La pantera rubia es una conocida en Norte Americ�."

"Y en t� cama?" Elena asked, looking at Buffy with contempt.

"Ilusiones," Spike muttered to himself. *Having the Slayer in my bed is definitely wishful thinking.*

"Well, Spike, it sucked talking to you," Buffy said, standing. If she didn't get away from Lola Brigida, she'd give the woman a black eye. Plus, they kept speaking in Spanish and she hated that she didn't understand. "Adios."

"Pantera, espera!" Spike said quickly. When Buffy didn't stop, he cursed.

"Es una ni�a," Elena said, running her hands up Spike's back and lightly tugging on his blond hair. "Una beb�."

"She's more woman than you'll ever be," Spike growled and shook her off. Then he went after the Slayer.

Spike saw her get on the bus outside of the club and he cursed again. With a quick dash, he hopped up through the doors just as they were closing. Dropping his twenty centavos in the box, he made his way down the aisle and sat down next to Buffy. "I asked you to wait a minute, Slayer," he said.

Buffy glared at him. "Where's your ho? I'm surprised you were able to get away from her spread legs."

"Ouch, Slayer," he said. "You're getting waspish in your old age."

"I thought I was a child," she said, emphasizing the word Elena kept using.

He chuckled. "You're anything but a ni�a, Slayer."

Buffy frowned at him. *Did he just compliment me?* She shifted on the hard, plastic seat.

Spike's eyes darted down to her legs again and one side of her mouth curled up. *Somebody likes a great pair of legs.*

Spike cleared his throat and dropped his hands from the seat in front of him to his lap to cover the telltale bulge that signified he was thinking about her legs being wrapped around him as he pounded into her. It was one of many fantasies he's had about the Slayer since he'd left Sunnydale the second time. "Er, pantera. D�nde esta tu motel?"

"Speak English, Spike," Buffy said, glaring at him. "Better yet, don't speak at all."

"Someone's a little edgy," he said, mentally adjusting his language before speaking. "What's wrong, Slayer? Your knickers in a twist over something?"

*More like they want to be off,* she thought. *How can he be so...grr, and so sexy at the same time?* She shifted in her seat again when his lips curled up in a smile that made her think of a cat who's captured the canary. "Spike, what do you want?"

He shrugged. "I thought we'd catch up on old times. You can fill me in on As The Hellmouth Turns. I forgot to set my VCR for it."

"Since when do you have conversations with Slayers?"

*Since I want to find out if you're as hot as I think you are,* he thought. "Unless you want to go dancing, pantera, there's not much else to do in Tampico."

*Dancing. Me and him. Pressed to those muscles. Ho-boy,* Buffy thought as she flushed slightly. "Um, talking is good. Talking is just fine. I excel at talking."

Spike wondered what brought the delectable flush to her skin so he could do it again. "Are you sure, Slayer? It's still early and the clubs are bloody fun places to get wicked on la pista de baile," he said. *Bingo.*

Buffy couldn't stop picturing herself dancing with Spike, or feeling his phantom hands as he caressed her body as they moved to the heady Latin music. Her breathing was becoming shallow and she prayed that he couldn't tell how aroused she'd become again. "No. I have to...slay," she said. "You know, sacred duty and all, even in Mexico. Gotta hunt those vamps."

"You found him," Spike said.

"What?"

"I'm the only one. Tampico es m�o."

"You're telling me that, in a city this size, you're the only bloodsucker?"

"S�," he replied simply, a smug smile on his face.

"I don't believe you," Buffy said.

He shrugged. "It's the truth, Slayer."

"What about minions? You never were without them," Buffy said.

"No me gusta compartir," Spike answered, eyeing her hungrily, and not for her blood. *I definitely don't like to share*

"English, Spike. Use it," she said, feeling a rush of excitement by the way he was looking at her. *Or don't talk at all. There's other things you can do with your mouth.*

"Perdoname, pantera," Spike said, then gave her a lopsided grin. "Sorry. I'm used to speaking espa�ol."

"Did you just apologize to me?" Buffy asked in amazement.

"Did I?' he replied. "Bloody hell, why would I do that?"

She scowled at his teasing tone, then looked out the window. Noticing her stop was coming up, she stood. "Out of the way, Fred."

Spike stood and moved into the aisle, but positioned himself so she would have to brush against him. When she did, he had to swallow his groan as the scent of coconuts and vanilla hit him.

"Well, Spike, it hasn't been fun," Buffy told him as the bus slowed. "Stake you later."

Moving quickly, she was out the door of the bus the second it stopped. She rapidly walked towards her motel, unsure of whether she wanted him to follow her or not. Halfway there, she dared to look behind her and was disappointed to find he was not. *Wait a minute, Buffy. You can't be disappointed that Spike's not following you. This is Spike. Bloodsucking fiend ring any bells? You don't want him.*

However, she still needed to take a cold shower when she got back to her room.

Buffy frowned when she heard the knock at her door the next night. She had just finished getting dressed to go out dancing with some other college kids she'd met at the beach that afternoon. Wondering if they forgot she was going to meet them at the club, she opened the door as she said, "I thought we were going to- Spike!"

"Hola, mi pantera rubia," Spike practically purred as he let his eyes travel over her. She was wearing another short, low-cut sundress -- pink this time - with matching shoes. Her sun-bleached blond hair was pulled up and a few tendrils hung around her face.

"What are you doing here?" Buffy asked somewhat breathlessly. Spike had exchanged the green shirt for a black one, and if anything, he looked even sexier. She felt the telltale rush of arousal flood her system and cursed mentally at herself.

"I came to annoy you," he answered with a smile.

"In that case, you've succeeded wonderfully," she said. "Now get lost."

"No."

"What do you mean, no?" Buffy said. Spike grinned and shrugged in reply. She glared at him. "Go away, Spike, or you're dust."

"Very well," he sighed. "I guess I'll go see if Elena me baila." He turned and walked away, calling over his shoulder, "Buenas noches, pantera."

Buffy growled and slammed the door shut, jealousy coloring her thoughts. *Go ahead, Spike. Go dance with that slut. She's probably spread her Latin legs for every se�or in Mexico."

Grabbing her money and hiding it in the inner pocket of her dress, along with her motel keycard, she double-checked her small stake, then left her room. She was going to put the sexy blond vampire out of her mind no matter what.

Of course, it would help if the vampire in question cooperated. Buffy had gone to the club she'd agree to meet the others at, and had finally relaxed when Spike showed up -- with Elena. They immediately were all over each other on the dance floor and the Slayer's mood darkened.

*I'll show him!* she thought, setting down her drink. She stood and made her way to the edge of the dance floor. As predicted, a handsome Latino asked her to dance and she smiled seductively at him as she accepted.

*Get your bloody paws off my Slayer,* Spike thought when he saw Buffy and her dance partner. A low growl rumbled from his chest as he witnessed the man run his hand up her bare thigh and slightly under her skirt.

"Excusame, Elena," Spike said, releasing Elena. He ignored her protest and stormed across the floor. He tapped the shoulder of Buffy's dance partner, and when the man looked at him, his demon flashed to the surface. "Pierdete"

The Latin man nodded and practically bolted away from Buffy. Before she could say a word, Spike grabbed her around the waist and pulled her flush against him.

Buffy lost all capability of speech as his blue eyes burned into her. The music changed to a sultry beat, and he began to move to it. She fell into step with him, her body responding to the nearness of his.

One hand brushed down lower on her back to rest above the swell of her buttocks, the other caressed her hip before lowering down her thigh. He slid it behind the back of her leg and lifted it, holding her tight against him.

Buffy took a shaky breath when his hand traveled up the outside of her raised leg. She pressed her inner knee into his thigh as it slipped under the hem of her dress to caress her lower hip. Unconsciously, she licked her lips and his gaze shot to them. She could see hunger in his eyes, and she purposely ran her tongue over her lower lip again. She heard a growl emanate from him in response.

Spike slowly released her leg and she slid it down the outside of his. The hand that had brushed along her bare thigh ran up the side of her body, then around her back to rest between her shoulder blades. His other hand, at the curve of her lower back, pressed her even closer to him. She could feel the evidence of his desire for her beneath his pants and she grew wet in response.

She rocked her hips forward into him and his nostrils flared. The growl grew slightly louder and his eyes flashed with fire. Her heart pounded and her whole body tensed with want. She wasn't going to fight it any longer. She was going to have Spike, vampire or not. "Let's go," she told him in a breathy voice.

Spike's eyes flashed yellow as the words inflamed him further. He kept one arm around her as he turned and led them out of the club. The short walk back to her motel room was made in silence, the crackle of sexual electricity between them almost visible.

The door to her room was barely open when Spike grabbed her and smashed his mouth against hers. They practically fell through the doorway, the vampire not needing to be invited into the motel room. He managed to kick the door closed behind them, and walked her backwards to the bed, his tongue plundering her mouth.

Buffy's knees hit the back of the bed and she allowed herself to be pushed down upon it, her nails lightly scratching the nape of his neck. Spike broke away from her mouth and kissed straight down the column of her throat, stopping to swirl his tongue in the hollow, then continuing his way down to the valley between her breasts that peeked over the top of her sundress. One forearm braced his weight to the side, while a hand ran over her body, cupping her fullness through the material, as he kissed and the swell of her breast above it.

He massaged her breast for a moment, then let his hand run down the side of her body as his mouth moved onto the other curve exposed above her dress. He reached the bare skin of her thigh, then traveled back up under her hem, stopping when he felt a strange strap. Lifting his head, his desire-filled eyes looked at her questioningly as he tugged at the strap. It came undone with a small snap and her lips quirked up when he held up the thigh sheath for a stake.

Spike captured those lips again, tossing the stake and sheath over his shoulder, as he pushed past her teeth to do battle with her tongue. His hand returned to its exploration under her dress, and skimmed up her thigh until he felt the strap of her panties. He ran a finger under the strap to the back and cupped her buttocks, lifting her slightly into him. She moaned throatily as his erection pressed into her sensitive womanhood.

Her hands made their way between them and began working at the buttons on his black shirt. She got partway down, then pushed the material aside to touch his bare chest. His muscles tensed under her exploring fingers and he pulled away from her in order to remove his shirt completely, as well as toeing his shoes off. He took her hand and helped her to her feet, then turned her away from him.

He took hold of the zipper on the sundress and slowly brought it down, growling in appreciation when he didn't find a bra underneath. He pushed the material off of her shoulders and it fell to the floor to pool around her feet. She was wearing a thong, and the dark color set against her tan skin made him swell even harder. Gently, he urged her forward on the bed so she was laying on her stomach across it. He removed her shoes, then began to slowly kiss his way up one leg, over the curve of her buttocks, only to stop and repeat his action on the other one.

When he reached her lower back again, he kissed each vertebra as he made his way up her body. Reaching her neck, he bit gently with his blunt teeth her nape, then kissed her shoulder and whispered, "Turn over."

Buffy complied, her body thrumming from his ministrations. She watched his eyes darken and heard his sharp intake of unneeded breath, as he took in her almost nude form. "No tan lines," he hissed, his eyes sweeping over the vast expanse of continuously tan skin to the dark panties.

Half over her on the bed, he captured her mouth again, kissing her masterfully. Buffy ran her hands along his arms, feeling the strong muscles of his forearms and biceps, and up over his powerful shoulders. She continued skimming along his bare skin, down over his shoulder blades and his back until she reached his lean waist. She ran her fingertips around the waistband of his pants, daringly moving underneath to scratch the swell of his taut buttocks.

Spike moaned and thrust against her leg, then broke away from her mouth to move down her body and tease a pebble-like nipple with his teeth and tongue. Her fingernails scratched up his back as he went down, causing him to shiver. She whimpered in pleasure as he worried her nipple, and he purred lightly in response. Moving to her other breast, he repeated his ministrations, suckling her until she moved her hips, seeking more.

Granting her body's request, he kissed and licked his way down her stomach, stopping to dip his tongue in her navel, then nip the soft swell of her abdomen. He hooked his fingers under the straps of her panties and dragged them down her legs, moving off the bed at the same time. He growled when he saw no tan lines marring the area surrounding her brown curls, and the sound filled the room.

Buffy felt a tingling under her skin at his deep growl, her legs falling open slightly in invitation as his eyes drank her in. He dropped to the edge of the bed and accepted, moving up between her legs to the apex of her thighs. He kissed one side of her inner leg, then the other before turning his attention on her sex.

She hissed when his mouth found her most sensitive spot. His tongue bathed her silken lips and vaginal opening, then flicked her extended nubbin. Her hands clenched around the top cover on the bed, bunching the material, as he latched onto her clit and began to suck it. Her whimpers turned to moans and cries of pleasure until she arched into his face as she climaxed.

Spike pressed his hand on her abdomen, holding her down as he drew out her orgasm. When she shuddered and fell limp, he thrust his tongue inside of her, lapping up her sweet juices.

He stood and removed his pants under her half-lidded gaze, and she licked her lips in appreciation when she saw his hard length jutting from his body. Moving above her, he captured her mouth again, forcing her to taste herself, as he drew her tongue into an erotic dance. Her hand dipped between their bodies to wrap around his shaft, stroking him until he groaned deep in his throat.

She positioned him at her opening, arching her hips in acceptance, and he thrust home with a snarl of pleasure. She wrapped her legs over his and pulled him down flush against her, and they fell into perfect rhythm together. A low rumbling started deep within Spike's chest, causing her vaginal muscles to clench around his manhood, and she shook from the sensation.

Spike tore his mouth away from hers and raised his head to stare down at her flushed and pleasure-filled face. His fantasy was coming true and he wanted to watch her go over the edge, hear her cry out his name as he drove her there. He shifted to move a hand between their bodies and fingered her clit and her eyes opened to meet his. "Venga para me, mi pantera rubia," he whispered. "Come for me, my blond panther."

With his words, Buffy flew over the edge into another orgasm, gasping out his name as she exploded, "Spike!" Her eyes squeezed shut and color burst behind her lids. Her body quaked, her inner muscles clenching and unclenching around his hard shaft. She heard him growl and thrust into her to the hilt, spilling himself deep within her as he joined her in paradise.

After they both calmed, Spike moved out of her and pulled her into the crook of his shoulder, holding her close against him. He lightly kissed her forehead and sighed, "Mi fantas�a se a verto rialida." *My greatest fantasy, most bloody assuredly, come true.*

"Hmm?" Buffy asked languidly, snuggling against his bare chest.

"Nada, mi pantera," he replied. "Never mind."

"Tell me," she said, the second word coming at the beginning of a yawn. "Jeez, I'm tired. You wore me out."

Spike grinned. "It was my pleasure, Slayer."

"No, it was mine," Buffy said, then she let her eyes drift shut and fell into a peaceful sleep.

Buffy awoke the next morning alone, the sun streaming through the sliding glass doors. She stretched luxuriously, her body aching in a way that only came after sex. She and Spike had coupled twice more before she had fallen into a deep sleep from exhaustion due to dancing and the talented lovemaking of the blond vampire.

She rolled over to see a piece of paper propped up against the clock on the night stand. The script was all harsh lines and sharp angles, but there was hidden sensuality within the words, mimicking the man who wrote them.

Buffy smiled and got out of bed. After a quick shower, she filled her beach bag with her bikini and some clothing. If she played her cards right, she wouldn't return to her motel room that night.

A forty-minute long bus ride later, she walked down the winding avenue in awe. The houses set back from the road were huge, with landscaped properties and ornate ironwork gates. When she finally arrived at 1315, she had decided she could get used to Mexico if she could live in one of these estates.

The address that Spike had given her led to a single story hacienda of tan adobe and worn, dark-wooden shutters, all closed. Black furniture lined the porch where wooden beams came out from the roof on the overhang. A beautiful garden ran along both sides of the path to the steps and around the corners of the house.

Buffy climbed the stone steps and pulled the chain to an old fashioned doorbell, examining the highly decorative wooden door. So into her examination, she was startled when the door opened to reveal a Latin man, with shoulder length black hair and a bright, white smile. "Bienvenida!" he greeted, stepping back and gesturing for her to enter.

"Um, hola," Buffy said, walking into the large home. "Is Spike here?"

"S�, s�," the man said. "El diablo rubio la esta espera."

"I'm sorry, I don't speak Spanish," she said. "Er, no hablo espa�ol?"

"D.R. is waiting," the man translated, still smiling at her. "I am Jorge. And you are la pantera rubia, no?"

"Maybe," Buffy said. "If that means Spike's fr-, er, Buffy."

Jorge nodded. "Come. I shall take you to him."

The Latin man led the way through a huge, tiled foyer towards the back of the house. Oil paintings and tapestries hung on the walls, and she saw several rooms that were done up in rich, earthy tones with beautiful furnishings. She noticed that all the windows were shuttered tight, allowing no sun to pass through them, and the house was lit by soft, electric candlelight.

Jorge stopped in front of a door and knocked. "D.R., t� se�orita esta aqui."

The door opened and Buffy wanted to melt into a puddle on the floor. Spike was dressed in a pair of loose, tan, cotton pants and a dark blue t-shirt. His hair was damp and it curled around his ears in a boyish manner. But his smile was 100 percent, pure adult male. "Hola, mi pantera," he said in a low voice that made her shiver.

"Hi," Buffy replied with a smile. "I like your house."

"Gracias," Spike said. He looked at Jorge, who was looking back and forth between Buffy and him with a grin on his face, and gestured with his head for the man to get lost. "Jorge, vete."

"Este es la se�orita que a captura t� coraz�n, eh? Ella es muy bello." Jorge said, winking at Buffy.

"S�, lo es. Ahora fuera, perro," Spike said. Jorge laughed, bowed slightly to Buffy, then walked away.

"What did he say?" Buffy asked. "What did you say? Why can't everyone speak English like normal people?"

Spike chuckled. "Because we're in Mexico, Slayer. Jorge didn't say anything important."

"Oh yeah?" she challenged. "Then why did your ears turn red when he asked whatever that had to do with me, hearts and being pretty and then you calling him a dog." She smiled smugly. "I know some Spanish."

He decided it would be wise to change the subject before he told her that Jorge had asked if Buffy was the woman who had captured his heart. "Would you like a tour of mi casa?"

*Changing the subject, eh? I'm going to have to look those words up later or ask Jorge to translate,* she thought before answering, "Sure."

Spike nodded and entered the hallway after taking her bag and setting it in the room. He led her back to the main foyer and started the tour. Buffy's favorite rooms ended up being the game room, with billiards table, an arcade game with matching plastic guns and a Dukes of Hazzard pinball machine; and the indoor pool room, completely sun-proofed, which included a whirlpool. She was glad she remembered to bring her suit.

"So, did you pay for all this or did you let your fangs do the negotiations?" Buffy asked as he led the way back to the room he'd emerged from earlier.

"Ha ha, Slayer," Spike replied. "It's only half-mine. Jorge was looking for a compa�ero de habitati�n when I first arrived in Tampico and I took him up on the offer." He grinned. "After explaining my sun allergy, that is."

"And you can live with someone and not eat them?" she said. "I'm impressed."

"It's a matter of control, Slayer," he said. "And I have a bloody abundance of that now."

"I'll say," she murmured, thinking of the night before. She flushed and ducked her head as they entered the last room.

"This is mi dormitorio," Spike said. "Perdon...er, sorry it's a bit on the messy side. I was picking up when you got here."

Buffy raised her head and gasped in astonishment at the size of the bedroom. She realized immediately that it was the master bedroom, but it still was huge, with beige carpeting and white-washed walls. A queen-sized, four-poster bed sat against one wall, covered with a dark, patterned bedspread. Two cherry colored night stands were on either side of it, with matching small, white lamps. An alarm clock and a pile of books were stacked on one of them, and a telephone rested on the other.

A chest of drawers was against the back wall of the room next to a door that led into a walk-in closet. Next to that was the door to the master bathroom, which was done in dark green tile and had a separate shower stall and raised Jacuzzi tub. Another low dresser lined the wall across from the bed, with a cherry, roll-top desk beside it. Both of these were covered with books, some lined nicely, others piled up haphazardly.

In the corner along the wall with the door to the bedroom was a recliner, free-standing lamp and a small, round, glass-topped table. The table held several books, as well, with one open flat on the top of the pile. A pair of half-glasses was balanced precariously atop everything. A hand-quilted blanket was tossed casually onto the seat of the chair, worn from age and constant usage.

There was a child-sized easy chair next to the recliner, and Kermit the Frog sat in it, wearing a pair of coffee-colored, round sunglasses. The Muppet was holding open a copy of Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus with its 'hands.' Next to him on the chair was a stuffed Taco Bell Chihuahua holding a miniature Mexican flag in its mouth.

She wandered over to the table to see what Spike was reading as the vampire hastily scooped up a pile of clothing from the opposite side of the bed and headed for the closet. She picked up the half-glasses, which looked like the pair Homer Simpson had, and slid them on. Then she picked up the open book and looked at the cover. "Groom on the Run," she read, then giggled. *A paperback romance, who'd a thunk.*

She set the book on the arm of the chair, then went through the other ones, her smile growing larger and larger. *They're all paperback romances. And well-read ones, too,* she thought, seeing the worn covers and dog-eared pages. Still wearing the reading glasses, she moved over to the dresser and the other books. He had an entire collection of 'More Than Men' Harlequin American Romance series; the 'Wings in the Night' series, by Maggie Shayne; the 'Heart of the Wolf' trilogy, by Rebecca Flanders; and 'The Donovan Legacy' trilogy, by Nora Roberts. All were in English and all of them looked like they'd been read over and over again.

"Spike,"Buffy said, looking over the top of the glasses towards the vampire coming out of the closet. "What's with all the romance novels?"

"I like to read," he answered with a shrug, not embarrassed by his reading tastes. If he was, he would never have let her into his bedroom.

"Are you sure you're a master vampire?" she asked. "You don't act like the impulsive, brash, violent vampire I knew in Sunnydale."

"Esto es Mexico," Spike said. "The pace is much slower here, more relajante than Norte Am�rica." She arched her brow in question at his wording. "More relaxed. You asked before about my control. Living here the past a�o plus, I've learned a lot about that."

"You sound like you read a self-help book," she said.

Spike grinned sheepishly. "Something like that," he replied. "But if you tell anyone about my reading tastes, I'll have to rip your tongue out and feed it to Rocky."

Buffy rolled her eyes at the threat, then frowned. "Who's Rocky?" He gestured towards a shoebox at the end of the dresser. Buffy went over to it and looked inside, then groaned. "You have a pet rock?"

"Everything else is too bloody annoying," he confessed. "I had un perro, but I think I ate her."

"Gross much?" she said, taking off the glasses and setting them on the dresser. She turned around and leaned against it. "What now?"

Spike walked toward her like a predator stalking his prey. He stopped directly in front of her and tilted her chin up. "We could swim," he said in a silky voice. He brushed her lower lip with the pad of his thumb. "Or we could shag like savajes, and then go swim."

"Why don't you pick," Buffy said. Her tongue darted out and flicked his thumb. He groaned and brought his hand around to cup the back of her head as his mouth descended upon hers.

They went swimming much, much later.

Spike sat with his legs dangling in the indoor pool, waiting for Buffy, or rather, waiting to see Buffy's swimsuit. He knew first hand that she had no tan lines, and wondered how she accomplished that. Since he couldn't very well go out to the beach during the day, he had no clue as to what the current beachwear was or what people did in the sun.

His thoughts turned to their earlier conversation when she'd asked which one of the romance series was his favorite. He wasn't lying to Buffy when he had told her he'd changed. He wouldn't consider himself 'soft', as Drusilla had called him before he'd left her with his heart broken. There were no other vampires in Tampico because he killed any of them that dared entered his territory, and he hunted, but because of the superstitious nature of the people, he left his victims alive. He also preferred a night of dancing and sex as opposed to violence and death.

Over the year and a half he'd been in Tampico, he allowed himself to let the culture of the city seep into him. Lazy days were spent indoors reading or lounging in the pool, taking late afternoon siestas even though he'd slept the morning away. The nights were filled with relaxed conversation and lots of dancing. Mexico, like most Latin American countries, prided itself on its dancing, and once he'd learned how, Spike found it to be almost better than sex. Almost, but not quite, because to him, there was nothing more exquisite than being buried deep inside a soft, hot woman.

That thought brought him full circle to Buffy, his fantasy for the past year. He'd never thought that particular one would come true, especially considering it was her duty to put a stake through his heart. Plus, she'd been in Sunnydale and he had been 1,400 miles away from that town, which did not give him the opportunity to try and seduce her.

But she was in Tampico now, his town, and she'd been looking specifically for him. Seeing her had been a surprise, dancing with her an even better one. However, being able to caress her, taste her, make love to her had surpassed everything and, as cheesy as it sounded, made his dreams come true.

"So, do you lure women into your home with this pool?" Buffy asked from behind him.

Spike turned and instantly grew hard as a rock when he saw her. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, brushing the thin strands to her light green bikini top that barely held her full breasts. His eyes traveled down the vast expanse of bare, bronze skin of her abdomen to the tiny scrap of material covering her sex. Then she turned around to put the coverup she'd been wearing over a lounge chair and he almost swallowed his tongue. He now knew exactly why she didn't have any tan lines.

Buffy looked over her shoulder with a knowing feminine smile on her lips. Spike was all but salivating as he stared at her. Walking over to him, she couldn't help but do a little drooling of her own. He looked delicious in the black trunks, the strong lines of his muscles playing on his pale skin made him all the more yummy, and the erection she could see tenting the suit made her clench her vaginal muscles in anticipation. She knew exactly how perfect that part of his anatomy was and how perfectly it fit inside of her.

Feeling heat rushing under her skin, she sat down next to him on the tile pool deck and stuck her legs in the water. It was pleasantly warm and crystal clear and inviting. But she could care less, for all of her attention was on the man next to her. "Well, do you?" she asked in a breathy voice.

"Do I what?" Spike asked, trying to keep his eyes away from the cleavage created by the suit and on her face. He licked his lips and could almost taste the saltiness of her skin. His cock was throbbing under his trunks, begging for him to bury it deep inside her hot core.

"Bring other women here," she replied, not knowing why she was talking when she could be using her tongue to trace the ridges of his muscles along his abdomen. But some part of her wanted to know how many other women he'd seduced in the privacy and intimacy of his home.

"No," he answered, turning slightly in order to slide his hand around her back to rest between her shoulder blades. "Solo t�, mi pantera rubia." He leaned over and brushed his lips lightly over hers. "Only you."

Spike slowly kissed her, gently coaxing her lips apart before inviting her tongue into tender play. He felt a shudder run through his body as the kiss deepened, testifying to the fact that there was more involved than just hormones. He broke away from her mouth and leaned back to look into eyes, his own reflecting the burning need he had to show her the truth to what Jorge had said when she'd arrived -- that Buffy had captured his heart in just two nights.

Rising to his feet, he held out his hand and helped Buffy to hers, then scooped her up in his arms. A beautiful smile exploded across her face, lighting up her eyes, and she giggled slightly. He carried her past the lounge furniture to a hidden doorway that led to a guest cabana. The room had a small, twin bed against one wall, and he gently laid her down upon it.

Gazing upon her caused her skin to flush and Spike could no longer hold his desire for her back. He slid his hands behind her back, releasing the ties that held her top on. Still standing beside the bed, he moved up to the tie around her neck, then pulled the material away from her, his eyes drinking her in. He set the bikini top on the small table beside the bed and repeated his actions with the bottom half, baring her completely.

Buffy's heart pounded beneath her breast at the intensity behind his blue eyes. He removed his trunks and joined her on the bed, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss. Her body sang under his touch as his hands caressed her skin, followed by his lips and tongue. She arched up when he traced a meandering path down the center of her body, mewling in pleasure as his fingers danced upon her core while his mouth suckled both her nipples.

Spike entered her slowly and set an unhurried pace, thrusting in and out of her heat with long, sure strokes. He caught her mouth again, their tongues mating like their bodies. They climbed higher and higher together, neither of them wanting to fall over the edge until the last possible moment.

He left her mouth to trail kisses along her jawline to her ear and he began to purr, sending shivers along her spine. Her legs wrapped around his lean waist and she held him tight as he nipped at the skin over her jugular, the sound emanating from him reverberating through her body. An orgasm ripped through her suddenly and without warning, eliciting a cry of passion and she shook violently from its intensity.

Spike's purr turned into a growl as she clenched around his shaft, sending him plunging into a climax that burned him to the core. His face changed as he came and he buried his fangs in her neck. Her sweet, hot blood flowed over his tongue, causing him to explode again immediately into a second orgasm.

Abruptly he turned them, so she was on top. He held her close as her body continued to tremble from her orgasm and he removed his fangs from her neck. Lapping at the twin puncture wounds, he closed his eyes and reveled in the feelings that were coursing through him. "Mi pantera rubia," he whispered against her neck. "M�a."

"Yours," Buffy agreed quietly, her mouth by his ear. "Soy tuya."

He loosened his hold on her and she raised her head to meet his blue eyes. He brought one hand up to caress her cheek, then slid it back to entangle in her hair and pull her down for a kiss. Their mouths melded together, changing what started simply as a man and a woman desiring one another to something much more.

Eventually they did go swimming and cavorted like children in the pool until the sun set. Then Spike left Buffy to get cleaned up to go out for the evening while he went out to hunt. The Slayer had a pang of conscience when he left, not knowing that he did not kill his victims when he fed. However, she pushed the thought away, convincing herself that she was going home on Sunday and then it wouldn't be her concern.

After she finished dressing, she made her way out of Spike's bedroom towards the game room. Not knowing how long he was going to be gone, she went over to the shooting arcade game and found the power switch. *Might as well kill something while I'm in Mexico,* she thought, picking up one of the plastic guns.

"Player one," the game announced when she shot at the 'choose number of players' section. The instructions flashed on the screen and she quickly read that she was suppose to shoot the bad guys and not hit innocent bystanders. Raising her 'gun', she began to play.

"Hola, se�orita," Jorge said, coming into the room.

"Hi, Jorge," Buffy greeted, not turning her attention from the game. She'd reached level ten already, and the figures on the screen were finally getting fast enough for her to really enjoy herself.

"You are very good," he told her, looking over her shoulder at the score. "Better than D.R."

"D.R.?" she asked, picking off another group of electronic 'bad guys.'

"S�, D.R. El diablo rubio," Jorge replied. "Su comapa�ero."

"You mean Spike?" Buffy said. He nodded. "What's el diablo rubio?"

"The blond devil," he answered.

"Figures," she commented. "And I'm the blond panther, right?"

"S�," Jorge said. "It is a fitting descripci�n."

"I guess," she said. "Oh, I wanted to ask you what you asked Spike earlier. With the heart?"

Jorge chuckled. "I do not think I should be telling you that, se�orita."

"Why not?"

"Matters involving el coraz�n should be between usted y D.R.," he replied.

*Oh well, guess I'll have to look it up later,* Buffy thought, moving onto the next level of the game. Eyes flicking over the targets, she wondered if she could convince someone to buy this game for a birthday or Christmas gift. "Oh, birthday!"

"Qu�?" Jorge asked.

"Spike's birthday is tomorrow," she explained. "I should bake a cake."

"S�? I did not know it was his cumplea�os," he said. A large smile flashed white against his dark face. "I have a much better idea, se�orita. We shall have a fiesta."

Buffy left the party planning to Jorge and went out dancing with Spike that night. They went back to the club she'd first seen him in, and she learned that he was definitely a regular there. It was also quickly established that Elena was yesterday's news, and the Slayer made sure the Latina knew it.

They literally danced the night away, coming through the front door to Spike's house less than fifteen minutes before the sun crested the horizon. Laughing like children, they tumbling into bed together and made playful love until they both fell to sleep curled in each other's arms.

Buffy was first to wake early Saturday evening, and she took the time to study the sleeping man beside her. His lashes were dark against his pale face, his expression relaxed and his peroxide-blond hair fell over his forehead in a boyish manner. She didn't want to admit to the feelings she had developed in the short amount of time she'd been with him, but she knew they were there.

*Didn't I learn my lesson with the last vampire?* she thought, reaching up with her hand to brush his hair back from his face. *Slayer and vampire and never the twain shall meet, remember?*

Spike opened his eyes at the moment and met hers, and her breath caught at the emotions she saw reflected in his blue gaze. Her own emotions were tumultuous, all jumbled together inside of her, and she was forced to look away from him before she said something she couldn't take back. She gave him a fake smile, without meeting his eyes again, and rolled out of the bed, heading for the master bathroom.

A few minutes of staring at herself in the mirror later, she heard a knock on the door. "Pantera, esta bien?" Spike's concerned voice questioned. "Are you ok?"

Buffy went over to the door and opened it. Both of them were still sans clothing, but neither seemed to notice. "I'm fine," she said with false cheer. "I just remembered that I need to go back to the motel to change clothes before we go out tonight." Then she thought, *Or rather, for the surprise birthday party Jorge scheduled to start at ten.*

"Why don't you check out early?" he suggested, ducking his head in actual shyness.

*Oh wow, he's blushing!* Buffy thought in amazement. A real smile crossed her face. "Only if you come with me to pack."

Spike's return smile lit up his whole face. "I think I can arrange that," he said. He then let his eyes trail down her body. "I suppose we ought to get dressed first."

Buffy reached out and traced on finger over his stomach. "But I like you this way."

An hour later, the two finally got dressed, said goodbye to Jorge, and left for the motel. Once there, she changed into a pair of white slacks and a colorful blouse while Spike made sure everything was taken care of at the front desk. She was in the midst of packing her things when the phone rang.

"Hola, no hablo espa�ol," Buffy said upon answering.

"For someone who doesn't speak Spanish, you do a great job," Willow said on the other end of the line.

"Hi, Willow!" Buffy greeted enthusiastically. "What's up?"

"I volunteered to call and find out if you found Spike or not," Willow answered. "Wesley broke out in hives at your not calling yesterday."

"Oops," Buffy said, making a face. "Sorry. I was gone all day...and night...and today...and its already night again..."

Spike entered the room and she held up her hand so he wouldn't speak. He nodded and laid across the bed, propping his head up with his hand. Buffy missed what Willow said because she was too busy staring at the desirable picture he made. He reminded her of the cover of one of the romance novels he had in his bedroom, with his faded, brown leather pants and white, loose shirt that was unbuttoned partway. "What was that, Willow?"

"I only asked if you were having a little Spring Break fling," Willow said.

The Slayer blushed bright red and Spike quirked his brow. *I wonder what the little witch said,* he thought.

"Maybe," Buffy replied to Willow.

The redhead squealed over the line. "Buffy! What's his name? Is he cute? Did you...you know?"

"His name is el diablo rubio, he's wickedly sexy and uh-huh. Many, many, many times," she said, winking at Spike.

"Soy provocativo?" Spike said, crawling towards her across the bed like a big cat. He rose up in front of her and slid his arms around her waist. "No, no, t� eres muy provacative, pantera. Y bella. Y exquisita. Y magnifica. Y te quero devolar."

Each of his words was a throaty growl at her other ear. Buffy felt herself melting and found herself only being supported by his strong arms around her waist. "Wh-what?"

"...asked if someone was there..."

"I said you were very sexy," Spike purred, punctuating each of his next words by kissing and nipping at her neck. "And beautiful." Kiss. "And exquisite." Nip. "And magnificent." Kiss. "And I want to ravish you."

Buffy's heart was pounding and she was having trouble breathing. "Willow, I-I have to go," she said faintly.

"But what about Spi-"

Willow's words were cut off when Buffy took the phone away from her ear and reached blindly towards the night stand to hang it up. She'd never known that Spanish was such an erotic language. The phone clattered to the floor when she released the receiver, and it was enough to break out of Spike's seductive spell.

"Spike, stop," she said, even though in her mind she was screaming *Take me now!*

"Por que?" he growled, tugging her earlobe with his teeth.

"Because...because..." She groaned, brought her hands up and pushed him away. "Check out."

Spike gave her a disappointed look and sighed. "Very well. Check out, then mi casa. The I am going to shag you until you can no longer walk."

Buffy had started around the bed when he spoke, and her knees went weak at his words, causing her to stumble. His laughter dispelled the charged atmosphere of the room.

Neither of them noticed that the phone was still off the receiver, nor heard a certain redhead say, "Oh goddess, she's found Spike...and uh-huh'd him many, many, many times!"

Buffy would always remember the look of shock on Spike's face when Jorge and all the other guests yelled, "Surprise!" The house had been dark, of course, when they'd returned and the vampire had pushed her up against the door as soon as it had closed behind them to carry on what he started back at the motel. Then the lights suddenly blazed, Spike had spun and dropped into a fighting stance with a growl and a bulge beneath his leather pants. His eyes had grown round as he took in the decorations, the number of people in his house, and finally, her laughter-filled face.

"Happy two-hundred eighteenth birthday, Spike," Buffy said quietly, giving him a wink.

Band music could be heard coming from the back of the house and the guests moved out into the large backyard, leaving Spike, Buffy and Jorge alone. The Latino approached the duo, a large smile on his face. "D.R. feliz cumplea�os," he said, holding out his hand.

Spike shook it and was pulled into a brief hug with lots of back-clapping. Shaking himself out of his shock, he replied, "Gracias, Jorge."

"Por nada," Jorge said.

"Thanks, Jorge," Buffy said, smiling at the man. "I think we managed to surprise him."

"S�," Jorge replied, returning her smile. "Save me a dance?"

"Of course," she said. Jorge nodded and went to join the fiesta.

The second they were alone, Spike grabbed Buffy into a fierce hug. "Esto es..." He tried to come up with an appropriate label for what he was feeling, but couldn't. So instead, he simply said, "Thank you."

"Well, I doubt Angel was big on throwing birthday parties," Buffy said with a grin.

"Er, no," he replied. He turned, sliding his arm around her shoulder, then they walked towards the back of the house.

Outside was decorated even more than the inside. Pi�atas, streamers, paper-chains, lanterns and other Mexican decorations were strung between tall posts set into the lush, green grass. Tables and chairs had been set out in the grass in order to utilize the entire cement patio as a dance floor. The Latin band was the same one that had played at the club at which Buffy had first seen Spike, and they were set up at the far edge of the patio in the large backyard.

Everyone wished Spike a happy birthday as they passed by the couple at some point during the night. Buffy had thought that the guests were friends of Jorge's, but she soon learned how wrong she was. Every person knew Spike by name, or rather as 'D.R.' or 'diablo rubio', which was the name he went by in Tampico. She watched with an amused smile on her face when Spike would launch into a quick-speaking Spanish conversation with someone, gesturing animatedly with one hand. The other never left its place on her shoulder.

The cake came out a few minutes to midnight, and Spike was forced to blow out twenty-five candles, the number Buffy had chosen at random, which led to the Slayer giggling like a maniac when he had to do it several times. After all, he had to purposely take a breath to blow them out. Once he'd cut the first piece, he took some frosting and smeared it across Buffy's mouth and chin, then proceeded to lick it off to a cheering and wolf-whistling crowd.

"Pantera, baila con migo?" Spike asked, nodding towards the dance floor. "Dance with me?"

"I'd love to," Buffy replied.

Spike led her towards the middle of the dancers, then he faced her, lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles, his eyes never leaving hers. As if on cue, the music changed and slowed, and he pulled her against him, one hand around her waist, the other still holding hers.

Ella di� Un paso atr�s Un adi�s Y no queda m�s A pleno sol, En pleno mar

The song was the Spanish version of Ricky Martin's She's All I Ever Had. Buffy recognized it right off the bat and found it fitting that she had met up with Spike and was leaving him while listening to one of the Puerto Rican's songs.

Bella, bella al amanecer Solo para m� Bella, belleza de mujer

Ella todo me lo di� Desde alma hasta la piel, Fue mi verso a mi papel Fue me amiga y fue mi amor

Conoc�a mi interior Como bola de cristal Me alej� de todo mal, Me di� lo mejor

He held her close, swaying to the music, his cheek pressed to her hair as her head lay against his chest. Both of them had their eyes closed, allowing the night to sweep them away to a place where only they existed.

M�rame Por favor Aqu� estoy Con mi dolor

Si las ves Alguna vez Dile que yo La sigo amando

They realized at the same time that this was Buffy's last night in Mexico. She raised her head and met his eyes, not knowing how to convey that she didn't want to go, that she was uncertain of her feelings for him, that she would never forget him.

Bella, bella al amanecer Aqu� estoy tan mal, tan solo Bella, belleza de mujer

Ella todo me lo di� Desde alma hasta la piel, Fue mi verso a mi papel Fue mi amiga y fue mi amor

Conoc�a mi interior Como bola de cristal Me alej� de todo mal, Me di� lo mejor

Spike lowered his head and met her lips, kissing her tenderly. He didn't want her to leave Mexico, didn't want her to leave his house, didn't want her to leave his arms. He didn't want her leave him. Breaking the kiss, he pulled her back against him and sang quietly along with the music.

Bella, bella al amanecer Quiero que vuelva a m� Bella, belleza de mujer

"She's beautiful, beautiful as the dawn, I want her to turn to me," he sang softly, translating the words to English. "My beautiful, beauty of a woman." He kissed the top of her head. "Tu eres mi pantera rubia."

Buffy smiled and whispered, "And you're mi diablo rubio."

Ella todo me lo di� Desde alma hasta la piel, Fue mi verso a mi papel Fue mi amiga y fue mi amor

Conoc�a mi interior Como bola de cristal Me alej� de todo mal, Me di� lo mejor

"Have you got everything?" Spike asked, standing with Buffy by the front door. They had left the party soon after they danced together and made slow, tender love until Buffy had to get prepared to leave. Neither one had spoken about the feelings that ran between them.

"I think so," Buffy replied, adjusting her purse strap on her shoulder. "Jorge has my suitcase in the jeep, plane ticket is in my purse, super tan on my body..."

He smiled, dispelling some of the sadness that surrounded them. He reached forward and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Have a good flight home, pantera," he said, then placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

Buffy gave him a trembling smile afterwards, then opened the front door. She hurried to where Jorge was waiting with the jeep to take her to the airport. Spike watched her from the protection of the shadows in the doorway, a weight depressing down upon his heart. "Goodbye, mi pantera rubia," he whispered as the vehicle pulled down the driveway and drove out of sight.

In the jeep, Buffy had kept her eyes on Spike, looking over her shoulder until he was no longer visible. Then she turned and stared out the side window, watching the scenery flash by with little interest.

"D.R. will miss you," Jorge told her. "He has never had a woman at la casa. You are very especial to him."

"Right," she sighed. "And next you'll say that, only after three days, he thinks he's in love with me and that I decided to fall in love with him."

"With love," Jorge said. "You do not get to choose, you just fall."

*You just fall,* Buffy repeated in her mind, looking out the window as the plane began its descent. She had just awoken from a vivid dream of her and Spike making love in the guest cabana, and her entire body was tingling with the memory. *You just fall.*

Buffy had fallen hard.

She had fallen in love with a vampire who wore half-glasses, read romance novels and had a pet rock. One whose dancing was erotic and passionate, that left her breathless and weak in the knees. A virile male, whose body was like an ancient Greek sculpture carved out of the flawless marble. A man who made love like she was a goddess, and he was her humble servant, whose only task was to pleasure her.

And she had left him in Tampico, Mexico. It was unlikely she'd ever see him again.

The plane touched down and soon she found herself being hugged by her mother, who had driven to Los Angeles to pick her up. She involved herself in conversation about everything she did, including spending time with Spike, but minus her feelings about him and their being intimate with each other. Her mom had been glad to hear that he was doing fine and that he was no longer with Drusilla, which made her smile. She could never understand her mother.

By the time they reached Sunnydale, the sun was setting and she was exhausted and jet-lagged. All she wanted to do was fall into bed in her dorm room, but she knew she'd never get away with doing that, not with several people waiting for her to report her findings. On her way to the library, she tried to come up with a way to tell them what they wanted to know in the shortest amount of time possible.

"Hey guys," Buffy said, as she came out of the stacks to where her friends and Wesley were waiting.

"Buffy, you're back!" Willow exclaimed.

"I'm back," she said, giving the redhead a tired smile.

"Hello, Buffy," Giles said, giving her a fond smile.

"Hey Buffy," Xander greeted.

"Nice tan," Cordelia said.

"Thanks," Buffy replied, sitting. She slumped down into it and closed her eyes. "William isn't Spike."

"So Miss Rosenberg has told us," Wesley said, nodding his head in greeting.

Buffy opened one eye and looked at Willow. "I told you?"

"Er...yup. You did. Saturday, remember?" Willow said. "We were talking on the phone and you suddenly had to go..."

"Oh," Buffy said, closing her eye. Then they both popped open when she realized she hadn't told Willow she'd found Spike. She looked at Willow and the redhead nodded. *Oh god, Willow knows that I...ho-boy.*

"So Buff, tell us about Mexico," Xander said, butchering the Spanish pronunciation of the country's name. "Was there nude sunbathing?"

"Xander, you're perverted," Cordelia said. She turned to Buffy. "Did you find any good shoes?"

"No, no shoes," Buffy replied. "And there was plenty of half-naked women for you to drool over, Xander. In fact, I met this girl named Elena who was very easy on the eye." She added silently, *Very easy, period.*

"Although I have no doubt you could regale us with stories of post-pubescent revelry," Wesley said. "I must ask if you have slain the vampire known as Spike?"

*Let's see, I danced with him, kissed him, had sex with him, fell in love with him...nope, no slaying,* she thought. But she couldn't say that, or everyone would majorly wig, so she told a half-truth. "He won't be a problem anymore." Which was true, considering he was in Tampico and probably would never leave.

"Very good," Wesley said. "I shall make a notation of it."

She figured she had better leave before she let slip with something. "Well guys, I'm really tired. I'll see you tomorrow, ok?"

"Wait, Buffy, I'll go with you," Willow said. "I need to change before I meet Oz anyway."

*Oh joy,* Buffy thought sarcastically.

The two girls said goodbye and made their way out of the library. Before they had even gone two steps outside, Willow pounced. "You didn't stake Spike, you got staked by him!"

"Loud enough, Wills?" Buffy said, leading the way to their dorm.

"Buffy, this is serious. Spike is a vampire," Willow said.

"I know he's a vampire," she replied. "I also know that we don't have to worry about him. He's there, we're here..."

"But you had sex with him!"

"And I fell in love with him, too," Buffy stated. Willow stopped walking and her mouth dropped open in shock. "Wills, the fish look is so not you."

"You...Spike...you," Willow stammered. "You can't love Spike."

"'You don't get to choose, you just fall,'" Buffy quoted. "And I fell in love, big time, with mi diablo rubio."

"The blond devil?" the redhead translated. "Well, it fits. But this is still Spike we're talking about here. Sucks blood. Wanted to shove a bottle in my face. Wanted to kill us dead."

"It'd be kinda hard to kill us back alive," Buffy joked. Willow scowled at her. "Listen, Willow. I love Spike, but I doubt he loves me and he's not here anyway, so it doesn't matter."

"But it does matter," Willow said. Buffy started to glare at her, but she added, "I don't want you to get hurt because you love someone who won't be with you."

"Like Angel," she said quietly.

"Like Angel," Willow confirmed.

"Well, I got over Angel," Buffy said. "Maybe one day I'll get over Spike, too."

"You'll always have Mexico," Willow said comfortingly.

"Yeah," Buffy said. "I'll always have Mexico."

"It's open!" Buffy called out when someone knocked on her and Willow's door. She had been back from Mexico for three weeks and finals had come upon the students at USunnydale. She was laying on her stomach on the small rug in the room, books spread around her while Latin music played on her stereo. She may have left Mexico, but the country had not left her yet.

She heard the door open. "If you're looking for Willow, she's at the library," she said, writing in the notebook in front of her. There had been people coming to the door at all hours for the past week looking for the redhead in order to get some last minute tutoring.

"Eres tu aquien busco," a deep voice said from the doorway.

Buffy froze, her heart skipping a beat. Slowly, in case she was dreaming, she turned her head and looked over her shoulder. "Spike?"

Spike was leaning casually against the doorframe, dressed in black chinos and his loose, white shirt, holding a rose in his hand. The smile that crossed his lips was one of pure sensuality. "Hola, mi pantera rubia," he said, his words almost coming out as a purr. "Baila con migo?"

The smile that slowly grew on Buffy's face was full of joy. Quickly rolling to her feet, she was in his arms in two steps. "I'd love to dance with you."

Spike leaned back sightly and brushed the rose from her forehead, down her nose and over her lips. He replaced the flower with his own mouth, brushing over her lips softly, then with more passion.

They broke apart when the applause started. Grinning sheepishly at her floor mates, she yanked Spike int her room and shut the door. Leaning against it, she crossed her arms over her chest and tried to put on a serious face. "What are you doing here?"

"Cayendo me," Spike answered, twirling the rose stem.

"English, Spike," she scowled. "Speak it."

He reached out and ran the flower under her chin. "I'm falling."

"You've been talking to Jorge, haven't you?" Buffy said, her eyes alighting with happiness.

"Perhaps," he replied, a small smile on his face.

"I have to tell you something, though," she said. She leaned closer to him and whispered, "I already fell."

Spike's reaction was instantaneous. He dropped the rose, picked up Buffy and spun her in a circle, narrowly missing stepping on her books. She laughed delightedly until he crushed her mouth with his, plundering it with his tongue.

Somehow, they made it over to her bed without breaking apart and the two of them sunk down upon it. Buffy ran her fingers through his soft hair, holding him to her. He shifted on the bed so he was laying on his side next to her, his back to the wall, his feet towards the door.

He ran one hand up under her t-shirt, growling in pleasure when all he found was bare skin. Cupping her breast, he caressed its fullness, brushing his thumb over the taut nipple.

"Oh, oops. Sorry Buffy and guy she's kissing."

Willow's voice broke the couple apart. Buffy blushed bright red, causing Spike to chuckle. He lowered his hand away from her breast and looked over at the redhead in the open doorway. "Hola, rojo. Com� esta?"

Willow's eyes grew huge and she began sputtering, "Sp-Spike!"

Spike laughed at her reaction and Buffy couldn't help but join in. Willow stared at them as if they'd both taken too many blows to the head. "What's so funny? And why's Spike here? I thought he was in Mexico. And why are you two laughing like Xander in his hyena phase?"

Buffy choked down her laughter to get out one sentence, then the two busted up even harder. "We've fallen and we can't get up!"

Willow decided it was better if she just left, so she turned around and walked out the door, closing it firmly behind her. She couldn't believe that Buffy had fallen in love with Spike, and it looked like Spike loved Buffy, too.

Then again, with love, you don't get to choose, you just fall.

The End