Half-asleep and stumbling, Willow opened the door to her dorm room and blinked blearily inside. In the light from the hallway she could make out the lump in the other bed and long blonde hair sticking out from under the blankets. Sighing in relief, she closed the door behind herself, debated for about half a second on waking Buffy and giving her a piece of her mind, kicked off her shoes and collapsed face down on her bed.

As she drifted quickly to sleep, she thanked the goddess for bringing Buffy safely home, and put aside all misgivings that she should stay awake and make sure the slayer was all right.

*****

A few hours before dawn Buffy awoke and blinked her eyes open. The room was dark, the blinds pulled and only the light from the hallway shining under the door allowed her to see the body in bed with her. Her memories returned and she blinked a few more times, then sighed softly.

Shoving the thoughts of 'enemy' from her head, she snuggled closer, burrowing beneath the blankets he'd at some point pulled over them. Even though his body was cool to the touch, he felt wonderful.

Fully awake, she began to trace patterns on his chest and smiled as she felt a nipple harden beneath her cheek.

"What are you doing down there, pet?" Spike rumbled softly.

"Playing." Her hand slid lower, the fingers circling his navel before dancing through the upper edge of his pubic hair.

"With fire, luv." He caught her hand and lowered it to his stiffening cock. "Play with this."

Grinning, Buffy dove beneath the covers, her hand pumping him to erection. Her mouth covered the tip and she sucked noisily, like a child with a popsicle. Spike groaned and arched his hips helplessly, thrusting into her mouth and hand. Giggling, the blanket still over her head, Buffy straddled him, then squirmed her damp cleft against his erection.

"Minx," Spike growled, grabbing her wriggling hips. She took hold of his cock again and guided it to her entrance, then sank down with a sigh. Leaning down, the blanket covering them both except for the top of Spike's head, she kissed him passionately as her hips bounced and rocked against his pelvis. Spike thrust hard and fast, making the bed springs squeak and the headboard bump the wall. Pulling back from the kiss, he growled, "'We're going to kill each other."

"Yeah, probably." She grinned in the dark and slammed herself down, her vaginal muscles clamping around his throbbing flesh. "But, no one would ever have guessed it would be like this," she panted as her climax rapidly approached.

He growled again, this time unable to get a coherent word out, as his balls tightened and his cock thrust uncontrollably. Buffy ground herself down on him, her whole body sore but aching for more, and whimpered before claiming his mouth again and driving her tongue in to tangle with his.

The bed banged loudly against the wall, but they both ignored it as they strove towards orgasm.

"Wh--wha'? Mom, I'm up," Willow mumbled, awakened by the noise. Blearily she peered into the gloom of the room, then heard a whimper from the bed next to her. Her memories flooded back--Buffy, bad beer, cave people, Buffy escaping, fruitlessly searching for hours. Maybe Buffy was having a bad dream?

A louder moan echoed through the room and Willow's brow furrowed. That had sounded like...

Blushing, she quickly looked away from the lump in the bed next to her. Cave Buffy didn't seem to have the social refinements of normal Buffy, so she...A horny Buffy was not something Willow wanted to see.

Wrapping herself in a blanket, she buried her head under a pillow, hoping to tune out further evidence of self- pleasuring.

A masculine grunt sounded and Willow's head popped back up.

Buffy had brought a guy home and...

Her brain froze and she swallowed convulsively several times.

Please don't let it be Parker, please don't let it be Parker, she silently prayed, then got an even more horrible thought. Xander! Buffy had been sniffing Xander. What if he'd found her and brought her home then succumbed to her cave woman horniness?

Mortified beyond belief, Willow decided that getting out of bed as quietly as possible and spending the rest of the night in the lounge was a good idea. As she started to slip from the bed, the mattress springs next to her squeaked loudly and persistently, and she blushed even more.

She'd never realized just how noisy sex could be.

On her feet, Willow began to tiptoe to the door, striving not to look at the moving lump, when the man spoke.

Growled actually.

Growled the word 'slayer' in a very sexy, very familiar English voice.

"Spike?" Willow yelped, smashing herself backwards against the door.

Cooing softly as Spike growled her name--or title--Buffy rocked harder against him, her orgasm nearly upon her as every muscle in her body tightened until...

"Willow?" she squealed, trying to scramble off of Spike. Trapped beneath the covers, they squirmed, their lower bodies still churning together, until finally Buffy kicked free and fell on the floor.

"Slayer!" Spike was clearly pissed off. His cock throbbed incessantly, almost locked in rigor mortis as he had been only a few seconds from coming. He reached for the slayer cowering on the floor, and with his preternatural eyesight spied the red head pressed against the door, mouth and eyes gaping.

"Fuck..." Flopping back on the bed, arm over his eyes, he sighed loudly in frustration.

"Shut up," Buffy hissed, trying to straighten her dirty, kind of smelly night gown which had somehow gotten twisted around backwards. One arm was out the neck hole along with her head.

"Buffy?" Willow finally whispered. "I'm gonna go...now..." Opening the door, she fled from the room.

"Good, she's gone. Get your ass back up here," Spike growled, flinging the blankets to his feet.

Nightgown back on correctly, Buffy jumped to her feet and headed for the door.

Watching her in amazement, Spike finally sprang from the bed and grabbed her, just as she reached for the door knob. Flinging her over his shoulder he carried her back to the bed and dumped her on her stomach. Before she could even try to scramble away, he was on her, between her legs, thrusting his cock into her.

Buffy yelped, then moaned. Her fingers dug into the bedding and she slammed her hips upwards to meet his furious thrusts. Growling low in his throat, Spike clamped his blunt teeth on one golden shoulder and thrust wildly, coming in deep, jerky strokes. With a sigh of relief, he rolled off her, flopping onto his back.

Her whole body trembling on the edge of release, Buffy stared down at him in shock.

Spike looked up at her, his lips twisting, his eyes dark. "I don't care if the bloody queen of England wants an audience, you don't leave my bed till I say so."

"Bastard," she whispered, her voice choked with lust.

He gave her a hard look, then shifted his way up the bed to collapse on the pillows, making himself comfortable.

Realizing he was going to leave her unfulfilled, Buffy rose to a crouch and glared at him, her eyes filling with unshed tears. She swallowed hard, then started to slip from the bed. Her stomach cramped from intense need and she gasped for breath. Finally, shoulders shaking, lower lip trembling, she slid one hand between her legs.

Spike watched her, then sighed at himself and grabbed her hand. Yanking her up next to him, he shoved her onto her back and parted her thighs. His fingers found her clit and he rubbed it gently, the touches light on her sore flesh. She whimpered, a long drawn out moan, then bucked into his hand, crying out as her orgasm shuddered through her.

As Buffy fell into an instantly deep sleep, Spike watched her for a moment, then rose to his feet. Going to the window he peeked out of the blinds and saw just a hint of pale sky in the East. Grabbing his clothes off the floor, he quickly dressed, then picked up his duster from the other bed. The scent of old leather was mingled with both vanilla and some kind of spice--the red head must have slept on it.

Smirking slightly, he pulled it on, then headed for the door. As his hand closed around the knob, he felt a sudden need to take one last look and turned.

"Leaving?" Buffy whispered, propped up on her elbows, one knee bent.

Spike swallowed hard and forced himself to nod. "It's nearly dawn and...we both know that nothing can come of this, Slayer. Nothing good, at least."

Slowly she nodded, tears sparkling in her eyes. "We were destined to be mortal enemies."

"And mortal enemies we have to stay. I'm not going to go all poofy and stop killing, and you're not going to put up with me acting like the demon I am, so..."

"Stalemate."

"It's been...nice, Slayer. Really nice."

"Yeah." She smiled through her tears, and said with mock ferocity, "Leave town, Spike. If I catch you killing, I'll have to stake you."

"You and what army," he replied lightly, a slight grin on his face. Opening the door, he disappeared through it.

"So long, Spike," Buffy whispered, then lay back on her pillow, her smile growing wider as the tears slid down her cheeks.