Raising a curious brow, she turns and continues on her journey.

Her journey goes on for awhile with no further mishaps, however, that soon changes as Buffy comes to a stop in front of a… moving… wall?

She wasn’t sure what to make of it. The wall seemed to be a live, and moving at that. The living wall seemed to be made of tar, like the tar they show in those old cartoons with the brown highlights. The black thick liquid rippled as if something moved under it.

It reminded her of a dream she had had only weeks before making the decision to do this. As she stood there staring at the living wall of tar, the dream came back to her. She had been walking through a forest with someone… she still couldn’t remember who it was, but she knew he was the one… The one that she depend on and knew that he didn’t feel intimidated by her… abilities.

The dream had shifted suddenly when they had leaned in to share a passionate kiss. Before their lips had made contact, he had disappeared, and she stood looking down on a pool of black tar.

As she stood there staring at the living wall of tar, she suddenly realized that the dream had a connection with the wall. It was a leap of faith, just as the shaft had been.

She knew it was true, whether she couldn’t admit it to anyone or not, including herself.

Stepping forward, Buffy puts her hand to the wall and pushes. She tires to pull her hand back to see if the tar had stuck to her, but the wall keeps it grasp on her, and pulls her in. As she’s pulled into the wall of tar, she barely gets out a shriek and then she disappears into the wall.

On the other side, the wall goes into convulsions, as if something was trying to force its way through. It bulges out, then suddenly sinks back in, and goes through the cycle again. Something was trying to force its way through.

Buffy’s fist punches through, and then suddenly she’s pushed through the rest of the way by an unseen force. She lands on the rock floor, coughing, and gasping for air.

Finally, after getting her breath back, she lays still on the tunnel floor, trying to get her bearings straight. The world was spinning and her vision was blurry.

A good while later, her senses come back to her bit by bit as she lies there breathing calmly. She slowly climbs to her feet as she finally feels like she won’t fall back to the ground.

When her head comes up, Buffy’s eyes land on the living wall of tar… or more to point, where the wall had been just seconds before. She raises a curious brow but doesn’t question the strange goings on of the tunnel.

She turns around and starts back down the long tunnel, hoping she was going to get through this.

As silence weights down on her, she felt guilty all at once again. She knew in her heart of hearts that this wasn’t right or fair. However, she couldn’t think of a way around this without causing more problems than she already had. She’d deal with the consequences later.

If she had a later…

“Are you crazy?” An angry voice stops her both in her tracks and her thoughts. “He doesn’t even have a soul?” The voice was familiar.

“It doesn’t seem to matter. Besides, who are you to question me?” Buffy asks in a cold voice. She didn’t like her action to be questioned, especially by some one that she couldn’t even see. “If want to question me, either show yourself or leave me a lone.”

She starts walking again, almost thinking that the voice was going to leave her alone when suddenly it is speaking again.

“How can you even stand the sight of him?” The cool, angry voice said. “We are talking about the same vampire aren’t we? He tired killing your friends, you… even tried to kill… me.” As the voice said ‘me’, the thing that it belonged to steps out in front of her. Buffy raises an annoyed eyebrow.

“Do you actually think this is going to change my mind?” Buffy asks to no one. “It isn’t going to happen, why dwell on something that hurts?”

She looks back up.

“I mean, come on Buffy, at least I have a soul,” the figure says.

“That’s right Angel,” she says, “You do, but if I remember correctly, the last time we were together, you did nothing but talk about Cordelia. Now, step a side or I will stake, real or fake!”

“But he’s a vampire,” Angel wines… and that’s what it sounded like to her.

“Yes, again, you’re right, but… really not caring here,” Buffy says as she moves to go around him. She grabs him by the arm, and moves him some so she can get past.

She starts walking down the tunnel again, knowing that he was following her even though she couldn’t hear him.

“You should, he’s just using you,” Angel starts again.

Buffy ignores him.

“He doesn’t really love you…” He stops suddenly when Buffy turns on him.

“Now I know you’re not the real Angel because he doesn’t know that.” She states and then turns and starts on her way again. “Besides, he has no right to say anything to me. He told me that he wanted me to live a happy normal life… News flash… I don’t, and will not have a normal life. Therefore, that only leaves me with happy. I’m going to be happy for as long as I have.”

Suddenly he’s in front of her again and gripping her upper arms. Buffy stops as her head jerks back at the sudden sight of him. She frowns, really getting feed up this crap.

Angel starts to say something, however, his eyes go wide.

Buffy pulls free from his grasp and takes a step back, and raises an annoyed brow. She watches, almost disinterestedly as the want-to-be Angel crumbles into dust. She tilts her head to the side and then back again in a head shrug, and huffs.

As Angel’s ashes disappear, a room appears. It was golden-yellow with candles spread across the entire expanse of the room.

Buffy’s eyes widen, and her mouth falls open as she stares at the sight before her. It was like nothing she had ever seen before. Her awe is short lived as some muck type people come toward.

She blinks, as she knows immediately what they want of her.

Discarding her jacket, she steps into the center of the room, the candles suddenly encircling her. She looks around, not seeing any of the mucks that had been before her only seconds before.

She breathes in sharply when suddenly longing washes through her body like nothing she had ever felt before, it was like she couldn’t get enough breath, a deep longing, an unfulfilled need.

More instructions are suddenly knowledge to her, and immediately, an image of the one thing desired most came into mind. Long lines, strong corded muscle, and ice sapphire eyes. The image takes her breath away more then any of the pervious sensory experiences had.

One word, a whisper at first, starts to drift through her mind.

“Desire… Desire…”

She pulls up on her toes when her whole being is swamped with the sensation of those long lines, and hard corded muscles moving against her, with her, in her.

Her body burns as the sensations storm through her system, again and again, burning her to ashes… the vibrations become so intense, build so blindingly, that her lungs burn from the effort of trying to supple her body with enough oxygen.

Suddenly, to soon, she screams in release.

Buffy jumps, and lets out a small scream when something like cold water pours over her. Tears sting her eyes suddenly, after being so violently ripped from the thing that she wanted the most.

As she stood there, more knowledge was imparted to her, not in words or images, but something incomprehensible by human standards.

She looks at her surroundings all at once… She was in Spike’s cemetery.

Moving forward, she walks the few feet to his crypt, and silently steps in. She had left a note at home saying that she had gone out early, and that she wouldn’t be back until later that evening. She knew that her friends wouldn’t question her sudden disappearing act.

As she moves into Spike’s crypt, she was glad that he wasn’t in the upper level; it made things easier.

She moves across the crypt to the hatch, and soon finds herself looking down at him. He was sleeping his stomach, his arms stretched out over his head with the sheet only covering his rear. She enjoys the view.

She removes her jacket, the one she hadn’t replaced, and lets it drop to the floor. Her shoes and socks come off next.

Only in her shirt and underwear, Buffy sits on the edge of the bed, and stares down at him. She was gathering courage; gathering for something that she had wanted to do ever since he had almost gotten himself killed trying keep Dawn’s identity a secret.

Leaning over him, letting her hair brush over his back, she caresses his ear with her tongue and smiles. With her action, Spike had turned his head toward her, moaning.

“Spike,” she whispers, running her tongue over the shell of his ear again. He moans again, and this time an intangible mumble falls from his lips. She smiles again.

Leaning over, she picks up her jacket, retrieves a bottle from a pocket, and then lets the bottle drop to the ground again. Moving back towards Spike, she stretches put next to him, pressing close.

She delightedly surprised when Spike rolls to his side and wraps his arms around her, burying his head in her neck, and nuzzles the spot where his lips land.

Buffy giggles a little when she realizes that he was having a dream… about her. That fact being demonstrated by the fact that as she thinks about that, he moves closer, and with his mouth so close to her ear, she’s able to hear, “Buffy…”

Vaguely, she’s pleased that he hadn’t said slayer. Now that would like be like bringing your work to bed… though, if she thought about it, she was… She shakes her head.

Freely, easily, she moves into his embrace, and wraps her arms around his shoulders. Nuzzling her mouth up against his ear, she whispers, “Desire.”

Then, as the words leave her mouth, her mouth claims his, and forces him awake. She feels the surprise in his body as he comes fully a wake, and she knows the second that he knows it is her in his arms.

She feels herself break free of something as he drags her body under his, and presses her down into the mattress with his weight. She gasps into his mouth with shocking coolness of his skin, thoroughly enjoying the feel of him against her.

She moves, trying to slow things down, but realizes she was fighting a war already lost, and joins in. She doesn’t remember much of their first time, only that it was fast and hard; one second she had been half dressed and the next, they had been moving together.

Now, minutes, hours later, they intertwined in the sheets, both breathing heavily – obvious points dually noted – and bathing in the after math.

The feeling comes back to her hand when she notices that the black bottle was still in her hand. She lifts her arm and looks at the tiny bottle clutched in her small fist, and then down at Spike.

His head was resting on her breast, his hand absently stroking her side, almost like a cat needing after a bowl of milk.

Buffy pushes up, and rolls Spike over onto his back. She goes with him, and straddles his waist. She holds up the bottle before she meets his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“For what love?” He asks just as quietly.

“I’ll tell you later,” she whispers and then turns the bottle over, and pours the contents onto his chest; they both gasp as the thick liquid spills over him.

The bottle seems to disappear from her hands. The strange occurrence not even registering with her as she begins to run her hands over his chest, the liquid spreading clear, and feeling warm. As she looks down into his ice sapphire eyes, running her hands over his form, her body starts to move on his. A slow grinding motion that had both of them gasping for breath.

Her senses go haywire as Spike’s hands come up, and start to slide over her sides, up her ribcage and over her breasts. Where they stay, his hands caressing and massaging her, as she was him.

Buffy lifts up, and moves back on his body. Spike’s hands tighten on her breasts as she lowers herself onto him. She gasps at the feel of him moving into her; her fingers press down into his flesh at the feel.

Spike’s hands move to her sides, and still her when she would’ve started moving. She question him with her eyes, however, her wait isn’t long, he pulls her down to him, and stretches her out over him.

He takes her hands in his… her breathing speeds up… and moves them to the sides of his head. All the while, he holds eye contact. She gasps again, trying to regain her breath. His hands are moving again as they go to her shoulder blades and presses her down onto him.

They both moan as her breasts are flattened against his chest, and brings his hardened body deeper into her soft form. Spike lifts his head, and claims her lips in a slow burning kiss causing her to move, to moan.

He pushes up into her; they grind against each other, their moves moving over tongues, and lips, and whimper as they pleasure themselves with a torturous slow pace.

Spike breaks the kiss, letting Buffy gulp in lung full after lung full of air; he pulls her up, and brings her breast into his mouth…

The air that she had succeeded in getting, rushes right back out of her lungs as her breast is engulfed in his cool mouth. His strong pulls, like a child nursing, pull at that need deep inside, seemingly making it larger… better…

She mewls when he suddenly pushes up and holds. The sound almost turns into a whimper when she thinks that he had spent himself… then she feels his hands on her hips, making her pelvis grind down into him.

Buffy’s arms go around his head, holding him to her breast as they slowly, hardly grind against each other. The barely there motion was keeping both of them on the brink, burning them, and making their desire for more grow.

Needing more contact with him, she moves her breast from his mouth, and replaces it with her tongue. She enjoys the growl the vibrates from his chest at the sudden loss of her flesh, however, she thrills at the feel of his hands gripping her back, and his arms wrapping around after.

“Mmm… Spike.” The sounds fall from her lips…

“Buffy…”

At the sound of his voice, husky, and ragged, she’s pushed over the brink. With her release, she tenses, grasping him tightly with her whole body. She gives a few last, quick thrusts before she feels his cool semen washing over her heated womb.

Spike collapses back onto the mattress as Buffy falls onto him. Their arms still wrapped around each other, no words pass between them as Buffy fall asleep.

Staying a wake just long enough to pull the sheet up over their joined bodies, Spike turns to his side with Buffy still wrapped around, and drift off to sleep. A smile drifts across his lips.

*       *       *

Buffy wakes the next morning to find herself on her side with Spike at her back, moving inside of her, just coming into her. She gasps at the feel of him… They spend the whole day in bed, finding new ways of pleasuring each other, laughing, and talking quietly.

That evening, Buffy stands in the center of the upper level looking up at Spike. She knew she looked sad, she could tell by the way he was looking at her. The question was in his eyes again, he knew she felt bad for something, and he wanted to what for.

Leaning up into him, Buffy pulls his head to her, and gently brushes her lips against his. He doesn’t push the touch any further, except to pull her body against his, his arms settling around her waist.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she allows herself to settle into the embrace, loving the feel of his lips against hers, and the hard contours of his body shaping hers.

In just the few short hours that they had spent together, she had gone from enjoying the feel of him to loving it, almost needing it. If she stayed any longer, she knew it would escalate to that… and it would, beings that she could have him whenever she wanted…

And he won’t know that she had…

Her conscious was playing rue latté with her heart and mind. She pulls away from the embrace and lays her head on his bare shoulder, letting herself enjoy his presence for just a few more seconds.

She kisses him one last time and steps away from him, keeping her eyes locked with his. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.

He frowns, his eyes swirling in confusion. “What for love?” His voice was quiet… almost as if he already knew.

“For everything…” She says barely above a whisper. “Desire…”

Spike stands there for a second before a scowl mars his beautiful face. “What the bloody hell are you doing here Slayer?” His voice sounded harsh to her now.

“I just came by to see… if you…” She sighs. “I wanted to see if you wanted to go on a patrol, but if you’re going to be a jerk… never mind.” It was hard to fall back into the roll of the hating Slayer…

The Summer’s house is quiet, all except for the moans, and groans coming from the second landing in the stairwell. They were long, and deep, rolling over the senses as if someone tasted something delicious that reached all the way to their toes, curling low in the stomach, and making it dip.

A black army boot sat on a stair close to the top of first set of stairs… A white foot shoots out from the area of the hidden stairwell, and braces itself against the wall, using it to keep up a rocking motion.

Another leg comes from the same, knocking the boot over onto the next step in the process and wraps around the other…

The hard floor having no give to it, Buffy was able to feel Spike all the way through her, spearing her, and bringing her pleasure to the edge of pain. A smile spreads over her mouth at the feel of his teeth in her neck, a groan escaping his throat, and she knew he was right there with her.

He moved in her tirelessly, giving her anything she needed, and everything in return that she gave him. Pulling his head up, she fastens her mouth over his, and suckling his tongue as it came in contact with her lips.

Spike had come over to get his lighter that he had left here a time before, however, once she saw him, a previous fight with Glory being quiet stressful, the word had slipped from her mouth, and before she fully knew what he was doing, she was in his arms.

They hadn’t been able to make it to her room, having been halfway undressed by the time they reached where they lay, grinding their bodies together…

She gasps as Spike suddenly rips his mouth from hers, and stills within her. “Spike?” She asks.

“Shh, someone is coming up the front steps…” He says quietly.

“My room,” she says quietly.

They quickly gather their things from the landing, and Spike is barely hidden by the bend in the stairs when he turns to follow Buffy as a key hits the front lock.

As they move into Buffy’s room, they hear Dawn saying, “Thanks Tara, Willow, I had a really great time…”

Buffy and Spike were moving further into her room, and then into the master bath, their hands finding each others pleasure nerves as they moved, their lips finding each other.

Spike easily lifts Buffy up, and presses her against the bathroom wall. Their eyes lock as she encases him.

Buffy fastens her mouth over his when she knew he was going to moan, loud and long, and takes the sound into her body, loving the way it vibrates through her lungs.

She gasps as he pulls away, lowering his mouth to her breasts, laving them with his tongue and teeth… “Hurry,” she rasps.

One of his hands reach up and laces his fingers through hers. He pulls their linked hands up above their heads, the small change in position allowing him to drive further into her, harder…

She gasps as his teeth close on her nipple, and he pulls sharply. Her legs wrapped around his hips brings her clit into contact with him every time her body lowers onto his, causing jolts of pleasure to course through her veins.

A moan…

“Buffy…” Dawn’s voice comes from downstairs somewhere.

Urgency enters into Spike’s movements, his thrusts become blunt, and forceful…

Dawn’s footsteps could now be heard coming up the steps…

Spike adjusts his movement ever so slightly, and as he drives back into her, the new position drives Buffy over the edge. She convulsions over him, around him, and all the while holds his mouth to breast. Her release causing a chain reaction, and her release, his release rebounds between them.

Even before the last waves of bliss wash through them, both are moving, gathering clothes, and touching the other. They move to the window, and Buffy opens it, and then turns back to Spike.

Before she has the chance to say anything, Spike’s lips are on her again, claiming her mouth for everything that it’s worth.

“Buffy?” Her voice comes from the stairwell this time…

Breaking the kiss, Buffy says, “Go.”

He brings her mouth back again as he turns them so that his back is to the open window, the night breeze cooling them. His tongue slides wetly over her bottom lip…

Buffy, a very short, short time later, walks away from the open bedroom window with a robe covering her and walks to her bedroom door. Buffy opens the door to greet Dawn with her hand raised, poised to knock. “Dawn, I was just getting ready to take a shower… Need something?”

“I was just letting you know I was home…” She pauses, a slight frown marring her brow. “Are ok? You’re all flushed?”

Buffy pauses, but not so much that Dawn notices. “I was just woke up from a nap… I was too warm.”

“Oh, ok.” Dawn says as she turns and walks away. “Have a good shower. Maybe it will cool you down.”

“Yeah right,” Buffy says as she shuts the door behind her.

*       *       *

The bedroom door bursts into the room as Buffy and Spike come through, their hands and mouths flowing over each other in a desperate passion. Buffy vaguely hears the bedroom slam as she and Spike stumble back further into the room. Shoving his duster off his shoulders, her hands fly to the buttons holding his shirt, keeping her hands from exploring his wonderfully cool chest.

Unwilling, she raises her arms as Spike pulls her shirt up over head, also forcing them to break contact with their mouths. Buffy is barely able to get two gulps of air into her lungs before he fastens his mouth back to hers, pulling her closer. She almost sighs in relief when she finally gets his shirt undone, and shoves that over his shoulders as well.

He growls when his hands are forced off of her so that the shirt can slide to the floor. She moans when his hands come back to her, going to her breasts and cupping them, massaging, and caressing them through the material of her bra.

The wind is almost knocked from her lungs as they finally make it to her bed; they fall back, and as her back come in full contact with the mattress, she rolls them over, and frames Spike’s face in her hands as she ravages his mouth. Arousal soars through as she feels Spike’s reaction to her sudden sexual aggression, and presses her hips down him, grinding her lower clad self onto his clothed erection.

Her bra is removed from her chest, and she gasps into his mouth when his cool hands take the weight and support them in much the same way her bra had. Her desire for him rising tenfold, she reaches down and unhooks her wrap around skirt and drops it to the floor behind her.

Spike rolls them back over, pressing her down into the mattress with his weight, and moves his mouth to her neck. His teeth scrap over her sensitized skin, and another moan is elicited from her parted lips. Buffy delights in the feel of him covering her, the feel of his teeth grazing over her neck, and has no fear of him hurting her.

She looks up as Spike pulls, looking him in the eyes as he rocks against her, her breath coming in a gasp at the tormenting pleasure he was inflicting on her, on them.

Her arms tighten around his neck as he begins to pull up, moving away from her. “No,” she says.

A tender smile comes to his lips as he gently removes her restraining arms. “I’m not going anywhere love,” he assures her.

She watches as he moves to the door, his long fingers turned the lock. She loved his hands; they felt as if they spread to take in as much of her skin as possible, everywhere at once, and always where she needed them… and she needed them on her.

Her guilt over doing this to him had abated over the past couple of weeks, and being replaced with a clam, and a… growing affection for him. That was the closest she let herself get to the new feelings growing in her. They seemed to grow the more time she spent with him, under the spell or not.

He’s standing over her now, looking down at her, something new to her lighting his eyes as he watches her laid out before him. She lifts her arms and beckons him to her, “Come here.” Her voice was a whisper.

“Not yet,” he says, his voice just as quiet, quieter than hers had been.

He reaches down and picks up one of her legs, and then other, and slowly brings them to rest on his chest as he moves closer to her. Her mouth parts as she watches him, his long fingers running over her slender legs, and down the backs of them to cup her buttocks in his large hands. They linger, massaging, and just holding her as he looks into her eyes.

His hands, after a time, slide over her skin, her hips, hooking his thumbs under the elastic band, and begins to slide the material up her legs in a slow caress. The whole time, their eyes stay locked with the others…

A sigh escapes Buffy’s lips as she watches Spike remove her underwear. She giggles when he kisses the bottom of her feet. He smirks at her then lays her legs on the bed and steps back.

Buffy watches as he unzips his pants, and pulls the tight material from his body. As she watches him, she lets herself fall open in front of him. She feels her body burn with a blush as he just stands there and looks down on her. She can see the adoration in his eyes, even under the spell, his feeling shone through. The only thing the spell changes is his memory of what happens when they’re together.

With her body burning for his touch, she reaches her arms out to him, and says quietly, “Come here…”

He grants her wish and settles over her, a sigh slipping from his lips as his cool body settles over her warm one, his chilled cells socking up her warmth. Dipping his head, he presses his lips to hers, and drinks from her mouth as if he had been feed in months.

Buffy greets his mouth with the same passion, vigor, and feasts on his mouth with the appetite of someone who’d been starved.

Soon just the contact of their mouths isn’t enough, and he’s inside her, moving against her, with her. Mewls, and moans fall from Buffy’s mouth as she moves up into his downward thrust, enjoying the slam of his hips against hers.

Spike’s mouth works up from her throat, along her jaw line, and captures her mouth in a mind-numbing, breath taking kiss as he slows their pace.

With the change of rhythm, and the intense kiss, Buffy has to pull away from the kiss. Her eyes open sleepily and her gaze is captured by Spike’s sapphire one. His eyes are darker, almost black as he looks down into hers.

With the whole night ahead of them, they take each other slowly, so slowly that at times if feels more like pain than pleasure their bliss is so intense. Hands caress sweat-slicked skin, their bodies move, glide together; Buffy’s breasts pressed flat against Spike’s. Their hands are locked together, anchoring each other to the real world as much as possible.

Like stretching in the morning after a great nights sleep, their bodies move together…

They collapse together on the bed, and still in each other’s arms, they fall asleep. They wake several times during the night, and repeat the almost ritualistic love making that started the night off.

*       *       *

Buffy runs and kicks the punching bag… effectively sending it to hit Spike in the back of the head. As her feet touch the floor, the bag swings back allowing her to catch it. One of her hands raise to cover her mouth to hid the smile lighting her face.

Spike turns and looks at her over his shoulder. His scared brow was raised in question. He turns his body toward and takes a stance with his feet spread and his arms across his chest as he looks at her.

Removing her hand from her mouth, she full out laughs at him as he stares at in her indignation.

“You want to try that again love?” Spike asks.

“Sure,” she says, and pushes the punching bag at him again. This time, however, he catches it.

She squeals as he comes after her… Then they’re play sparing as they move around the workout room. They rang all over, jumping over objects and easily avoiding the others advances but neither willing to end the fight just yet, enjoying the release of pent up emotion and stress.

Not being able to stand it any longer, Buffy let’s that one word slip from her lips on the next exhale of breath. “Desire.”

She swings, aiming right for his nose. However, she’s caught off guard when Spike simply catches her hand and brings her into his embrace. “I really hate this,” he says before his mouth settles over hers.

She’s not sure what he meant by that but didn’t bother to analyze it as she settles into his kiss. They slink down to the floor, their bodies hidden by a stack of mats at the far end of the workout room.

His kiss is as cool as ever, more so because of her flesh being heated from the rough housing.

Buffy moans into the kiss as Spike’s body settles onto hers. Spike’s hands move into her hair, gripping firmly as he pulls down to bring her mouth more fully into his. His tongue seems to reach the back of her throat as he opens her to him.

The tight shirt he has on allows Buffy to feel his defined muscles and the sharp edges of his shoulder blades as he flexes. Her hands fist in his shirt as he draws her tongue into his mouth as much as he had invaded hers just seconds earlier.

Seconds later, he breaks the kiss and trails kisses down her neck to the base of her throat. There, in the hallow, he draws foreign marks in the little dip. The actions cause Buffy to inhale sharply as a lightning fast tingle angels down her body. She arches her neck more fully into his open mouth, willing to let him do anything to her.

Trying to keep her verbal reactions at bay, she purses her lips together; nonetheless, a moan comes from her throat. The vampire nibbling at her throat lets a purr rumble from his chest in agreement. As a smile spreads over her lips, a sigh comes from her lips. She loves it when he purrs. She can feel the vibration all through her body.

Forgetting that the gang is in the next room, that Glory could find her sister at any moment, that she is supposed to hate Spike, she losses herself in his embrace whole heartedly. Her hips raises up, and brush over Spike’s. She does it again… then again, and then holds up to him, pressing into his body.

Spike’s head comes up, his eyes closed, and his mouth open as he tries to regain control of breath he doesn’t need. His hips press down into her in reaction. After a few seconds, his glazed eyes open and he looks down at her. “Tease.”

“Oh yeah…” she says as she brings him back down to her. She fastens her mouth onto his and draws his lips, and tongue into battle.

As their tongues and mouths fight for the bottom lip, Buffy’s hand slides up Spike’s back, and over his shoulder, loving the sensation of his rolling muscles under her hands causes.

Her hand continues it’s journey over his hard, flexing chest to his rolling stomach that double times it as her hand passes over. Her hand moves to his….

“I think she’s in the training room with Spike, they may be taking a break. It’s been quiet in there for awhile.” Anya’s voice floats through their lust glazed minds, and brings Spike up onto his elbows.

They pull away from each other, practically running back over to the punching bag.

Spike reaches out and pulls Buffy to him as their arms tangle around each other. He bends his head, and brushes his mouth across hers. His tongue caresses her bottom lip….

“Hey Buff, you back here?” Xander’s voice echoes from the front of the shop.

Buffy’s mouth opens on breath, and Spike’s tongue brushes over her tongue….

“Is Spike bugging you again?” Xander’s voice sounds irritated. He’s closer than before, and coming close every second.

Spike’s head lifts, and they untangle their arms….

Xander’s footsteps can be heard now as he moves into the very short hall.

Spike moves behind the punching bag and holds it and looks at Buffy as she says that damned word…. “Desire.”

Buffy’s fist shots out and punches the bag just as Xander gets into the doorway.

“There you are Buff.” He says, as he walks into the work out room and over to the two of them.

“Hey Xander, what ya need?”

“Blood breath,” Xander acknowledges Spike, if one would call it that an acknowledgement.

“Whelp,” Spike says….

“Xander?” Buffy says, trying to break them out of their death stare contest.

He turns back to Buffy. “Right. We think we might have found some more information. You want to come look?”

“Sure.” Buffy says and starts to follow Xander out of the training room. “Is it any thing new?”

*       *       *

The sheets shift on the bed in the darkened room…. Long lean legs moves as a tapered foot slides down the back of one of those legs, over the buttocks, down the thigh, and comes to rest between the continuously moving legs, tangling with them.

“Spike…” a voice moans from the head of the bed….

Buffy raises her hips up and brushes her pelvis across Spike’s, once twice, and then again and presses herself into him.

Spike jerks into with the action, and thrust down into her. His back arches into her as he comes up onto his hands above her. A purr vibrates through the air…

He bends down and quickly fastens his mouth to Buffy’s, and they both let out a muffled moan as they find their release.

She sighs as she feels Spike collapse onto her. Her body soaks up the feel of his pressed into her, and enjoys the weight of his body on hers.

Spike rolls off her, much to her disappointment, and lies on his side next to her with his head prop up on his hand. Buffy turns on her side with her back to him, and press back into him as his arm wraps around her waist to hold her close.

She sighs contentedly, if not a little tiredly, and relaxes in his embrace.

She smiles lightly as she feels Spike’s lips graze over her ear and down her neck to her shoulder. There, she feels a little nip.

Spike breaks the silences, his chin resting on her shoulder, “Love?”

“Yes?” She says softly.

He doesn’t say anything. She turns onto her back to look up at him. “What is it Spike?”

He turns his head and lets his eyes meet with hers. “Why can’t I know?”

Buffy sighs, surprised that he hadn’t asked earlier. She reaches to her stomach and takes his hand in hers. Their fingers intertwine. “Because… it will kill you if something happens to me,” Buffy says in a whisper.

Spike bends down and captures her lips with his….

*       *       *

In the basement of the Magic Shop, they were supposed to be looking for the Dagon’s Sphere…

At the very back of the basement, in the dark corners that no human could possible see in, Buffy leans back against the wall with Spike pressed against her. Their mouths are melded together.

Spike’s hand snakes down her body, and into the waistband of her pants. Buffy’s mouth breaks away from his mouth as tapered fingers find her opening.

“Love?”

“Mmm?” Buffy moans, unable to find any other form of response.

“We should be trying to find that Dagon’s Sphere thing…” His words trail off when Buffy’s hand sinks into his pants, and grab a hold of his buttock and pulls him closer. A gasp is pushed past his lips.

“Later…” She says, bringing her hand to the front of his pants, she practically rips them open.

“But…” Spike begins.

“Now… This could be…” she’s cut off when Spike raises her, divests her of her underwear, and enters in her all in one swift move.

Only if they knew how true her words are…

“Don’t!” He says between clenched teeth.

They grind against each other, almost rubbing themselves raw with how desperate they are to keep the other close for as long as possible.

Spike bends down and captures her lips and starts to move within her. Her arms and legs come up and wrap tightly around him, pulling him close. A sobbing moan comes from her mouth when he breaks the kiss.

Upstairs…

Dawn looks up and around the Magic Shop. “Where’s Buffy?”

“She down in the basement with Spike trying to find the Dagon’s Sphere.” Anya says from behind the counter. “I hope they don’t break anything, because if they do…”

Dawn gets up and starts to head for the basement.

Willow looks up with wide eyes, something akin to panic crossing over her eyes. “Dawn, what do you need?”

Dawn turns and looks at Willow with a frown. “I was going to ask Buffy for help on my…”

Willow cuts her off, looking frantically between the basement door and Dawn. “I’ll help you. Let Buffy… finishing… trying to…”

“Ok…”

Basement…

With his lower body holding her to the wall, Spike’s hands move to Buffy’s blouse, and quickly undoes the buttons.  He pushes the edges apart, and growls when he sees that she’s not wearing a bra.

His hands grip her by the ribcage, his lower body still moving in and out of her, he looks up and meets her eyes.

Keeping eye contact, he lowers his head, and takes one of her breasts into his mouth. A long moan comes from Buffy, and with it, her hands reach down and thread through his hair. They loss eye contact as Spike angles his head over her chest, and draws her breast further into his mouth.

As his mouth begins to suckle at her breast, she arches into his mouth, and joins the motion of his hips.

One of Spike’s arms moves around her waist, and brings her closer to him. His other hand moves and takes her hand in his. Their fingers intertwine, and rise above her head.

With his mouth still at the same breast, her other starts to fill neglected. Her free hand moves from the back of Spike’s head, and she starts to caress herself. She smiles when she feels Spike growl against her.

Spike lets her breast slip from his mouth as he rises. Looking into Buffy’s eyes, he takes their joint hands and lowers them to their joint pelvises. Her eyes widen and her hand goes to his neck.

She could feel with her fingers him entering and leaving her….

Buffy suddenly bucks within his embrace, and in turn, stimulates Spike’s release. They both cry out…

As they clam, their clothes fully back in place, they gently kiss with their arms lightly woven around each other.

Dreaming It

Post-“The Gift”

They both sigh as their bodies come down from one of the most powerful of natural highs.

Minutes later, Spike comes up onto his knees, and pulls the pillow out from under Buffy’s hips, and tosses it aside. With that gone, he grips her hips in his hands, and pulls her up onto her hands and knees.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” Her only answer is the feel of his fully erect member sliding into her…

*       *       *

It’s somewhere between midnight and dawn. That’s the closest Spike can get to knowing what time it is. He’s lying on his back staring up at the ceiling of the crypt. His eyes are unfocused, as if he’s drawn in on himself.

The last week had been a blur, and what he can remember of it, he can hardly believe.

She’s back…

“She’s back…” He keeps trying the words out on his tongue and still, he can’t believe what his eyes and sense of touch are telling him. She’s back…

A week earlier…

Three months, six days, five hours, and seven minutes… she’s been gone that long. Ok, thirty-one… thirty-two seconds. Spike treads through the cemetery, barely noticing anything around. His thoughts are consuming him more and more lately, and he didn’t care.

The only time he came out his revives are when Dawn was around and that was because he had made a promise and he intended to keep as long as Dawn or he lived, which ever came first.

He was glad of thing this time out on the patrol. The whole happy family wasn’t tagging along with him, and botching the whole thing up. Giles, and that bullock fat fuck of a vampire.

Spike rolls his eyes as he thinks back to that night, which was yesterday.

His senses, no matter how immersed in his own thoughts, pick up on the cool air around him, and damp breeze that brushes over his senses. The night somehow could calm him down when nothing could at this point in his life.

Not since…

He clears his throat at that thought and quickens his pace. He didn’t want or need to think about that. It made his knees weak, his throat ache, and he felt as if he couldn’t breath when he thought about… her.

He frowns in concentration, trying to push the thoughts aside enough to… at least walk through the cemetery without a mishap.

To take his thought off of …her… his thoughts turn back to the other night with Giles, and the happy Family.

Somehow, that stupid bot had been brought along….

He hated that robot now. It wasn’t her, and it just brought that tight ache to his throat, and made it hard for him to think or speak.

The Buffybot was always trying to get at him, and he knew that Red had messed with it enough to get rid of the programming and the thing still seemed to claw after him.

His Buffy never would’ve let herself do that, especially with the fear of the Scooby’s finding out. That would be a hell in and of itself for her, and he couldn’t put her through that.

His thoughts are scattered when he hears sniffling off to his left.

He frowns as he moves forward, using his stealth to his advantage and staying as quiet as he possibly can. The noise was coming from the other side of her big tree. However, the area was concealed by a grove of bushes and low hanging branches.

Dawn… It wouldn’t be the first time he had found the poor girl out here late at night at her grave, crying her eyes out.

Making his way around the grove of bushes, he sadly shakes his head as Dawn’s huddled form comes into form. Her shoulders are shaking, and her sniffling cut through him as he listened.

Walking over to her, making sure to make some noise, he says, “Lil’ Bit…” Her wet eyes come up to meet his as he steps closer. “Come on, you need to be safe and warm in your bed.”

She reaches out him as he bends down. This was the fourth time in as many weeks. The same thing each time.

Spike bends down and scopes Dawn up in his arms. He takes her home, going into the house and tucking the small girl. At her request, he stays until she falls asleep, which is quickly.

She must have been there quite some time, the thought slips through Spike’s mind as he makes his way back to the cemetery. His eyes sting as he thinks about the Lil’ Bit.

As his thoughts crisscross through his mind with no real censorship, Spike’s feet leads him back to the grove. He finds himself having déjà vu as he stares at the back of the grove, and hears just beyond more sniffling.

This can’t be happening… She couldn’t have beaten him back here already, plus the fact that she was at home when had left. She couldn’t….

Maybe it is one of the other Scooby gang.

However, as he listens, he hears scuffling, and solid hits to flesh, as if someone was beating off someone else …or something else….

Shrugging his shoulders, he moves around the grove, and comes to a dead stand still in his tracks.

It’s the Buffybot…. She’s fighting with a demon, not just a demon, but the demon that Buffy had fought just before she had died. It was one of those demons that had served Glory.

As he stared at the image, his brain vaguely takes little details. The demon was a non-big player, just a fighter. The clothes that Buffy is wearing are the same ones that she had had on the night she had died.

The more demons came as she fought passed one then another, and then another.

The scene changes suddenly to when Buffy is up on the scaffolding.

The scene moves quickly, giving Spike little time to see what had happened when he had been knocked unconscious. Before his eyes, he watches Buffy run and jump off the end of the plank that Dawn had been tied to just seconds ago.

Spike’s hand comes out and he reaches for Buffy… but the image fades. One whispered, torn word rolls from his lips as one-scene rolls through his mind again. “Buffy...”

The look in her eyes as she looked out toward the sunrise as the knowledge of what she was about to do rolled through her mind. It hadn’t been fear or sadness, or anything else that mortals feel when confronted with death.

It had been peace, she had wanted to die, and she had.

He isn’t sure how long he had stood there, that one scene rolling through his mind with abject, horror filled vividness.

His head jerks to his left when he hears someone sob near by. He turns his head, and stills.

As he watches, the figure turns her golden head, and stares up at him with wet, luminous hazel-green eyes. Such familiar eyes, so familiar, Spike feels himself begin to shake as he watches in owe as the lips of her beautiful face move.

The words reach him, as if they were in a vacuum, seconds, minutes after the words had left her lips, they finally reach his ears. “Spike?”

“B…B…Buffy….” His words are broken as he takes a shaky step toward her and stops, not being able to take himself any farther.

He watches as what could only be a figment of his imagination gets shakily to her feet and stumbles toward him. Seconds, an eternity later, she’s standing in front of him and raising her hand to his face.

His eyes widen….

“They brought me back…. They brought me back after I saw my mom…. I only saw for such a short time….”

Her fingers touch his cheek and the illusion around her shatters and he knew that she’s really here.

“I’m so tired….” She whispers.

However, before he can through himself at her feet and cry his eyes out onto her stomach, Buffy’s eyes roll back in her head and she passes out. Before she her knees even buckle, Spike’s arms wrap around her waist and pull her close.

Spike burry’s his head in the creak of her neck and breathes in her scent. It’s fresh, and new; vanilla, and flowers. He’s not sure how long, doesn’t even want to guess how long he stood there and held Buffy to him as she slept in his arms.

The walk back to the Summers’ house is long. Spike gently cradles Buffy’s slit body to him, her forehead resting against his neck. Every few seconds he would bend his head down and run his cheek over the top of her head, in a loving caress.

The caress was to reassure her that she’s all right, but more to reassure himself that she’s actually in his arms.

Finally getting to the Summers’ house, Spike steps up onto the porch, and goes in after unlocking the door. Quietly closing the door behind them, he walks into the living room and sits down.

He stays there all night, holding her to him, as he stays awake, trying to comprehend what was going on. No matter how hard he tried, his thoughts kept going back to the slip of a girl in his arms.

When morning came, and bringing Willow, Tara, and Dawn with it, Spike’s mind goes numb and everything goes into a blur of images, broken words and sentences.

The only things, and person he remembers fully and vividly is Buffy, and then he finds himself back at his crypt, lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

His eyes are unfocused as if he’s drawn into himself, almost like after Buffy had died. His eyes cry as his thoughts covering the past three and a half months.

*       *       *

Hours after the sun has risen over the small town of Sunnydale, California, Spike slips into the first solid sleep he has had in months. And dreams of times past.

They had been moving together for hours, each time becoming more potent, more blissful – almost to the point of pain – than the time before. He couldn’t tell if it were, day or night didn’t care.

The sheets had been thrown to the floor long ago, no longer prohibiting their movements. Sweet coats their skin, enabling them slide along each other’s sensitized skin.

Spike leans over her, bringing himself further into her as he thrust forward. His chest brushes over her perked nipples, causing a moan to rip from her lips.

Her leg rides up onto his hip, pulling him closer still, then wraps her arms around his neck. She pulls his head down, and gently lays her lips on his.

Pressing his lips just as gently to hers, Spike slows his movements to mere stretching motions of his muscles. Buffy groans into his mouth this action, causing Spike to smile into the kiss.

“I know we’re smiling, “Buffy slurs, as if she’s drunk, when she breaks the kiss. “Stop it.”

“Stop this?” He asks evilly as he stills his hips and just holds himself inside her.

Her moan draws her next words out, “You are evil….”

Coming down onto his elbows, “I know… and you love it.”

As he slow starts their motion again, his only reply it a long, draw out moan of his name.

He smiles lavishly as he buries his head in her neck, and gently bits down on her neck. His pace quickens unconsciously when she arches her neck into his teethes embrace.

He growls slightly when he feels arms slip away from his shoulder. The growl fades into a purr of pleasure when he feels her arms sliding around his ribcage and she pulls him tightly against her.

He stops his movements again, and chuckles when he hears Buffy growl into his ear, if he didn’t know any better, he would think that she’s a vampire.

His eyes widen when he suddenly finds himself across the bed with Buffy astride him, riding him, grinding her down onto him.

He losses himself in their movement, just as she had, enjoying her closeness, and in more ways then just the obvious; however, he comes back to himself when he feels her start to move faster on him, almost at a frantic pace.

His hands come up and grip her hips in an unbreakable, but gentle hold. Her eyes snap open when he does this. He smirks at her, and starts to disentangle their bodies. He knew what was coming next.

Spike’s movement is suddenly stopped when Buffy clamps her legs at hips, and holding herself to him. Smiling evilly, Spike lets his hold on her go, letting her think that she had won.

She starts to move on him again, slowly at first. As she slides back into her blissful state, Spike lays back and waits for the right moment to strike.

Her lips part….

Her breathing starts coming in ragged pants again….

A moan rolls from her lips…. Almost there, he thinks, enjoying the little show, all the while, well aware of his body’s demands.

Her moan turns into his name….

His hands come up and he tickles her sides. His tickling her sides has a domino effect and soon they’re play fighting, fighting for dominancy.

Finally, Spike gets her on her stomach when he slides out of the way, as she goes to throw herself onto him. He quickly, before she could realize what he had done, Spike moves onto her back.

She growls again, and causes him to chuckle deeply into her ear. “You are an evil bastard.”

“And why’s that love?” Spike purrs.

She almost moans. “Because.”

“Oh, now that’s real original. You shouldn’t try rushing things love; let it wash over you, through…. It’ll be so much better.” Spike says as he reaches over their heads, and grabs one of the pillows.

Lifting her hips, Spike slides the pillow under her and lets her hips settle onto the padding. After which, he wraps his arms around her, and pulls her closer.

“You like torturing people, don’t you?” Buffy groans as he lets himself slide along the dip between her buttocks.

“Especially you love,” his purring voice turns ragged and distracted as he moves easily into her. He seats himself in her, and just holds himself where he is. “It’s my… release.”

“You evil….” Her words stop when he starts to take her slow with hard strokes.

They find their release at same time when Buffy arches into the curve of his hips as he presses down….

Spike wakes with a jerk, kicking the foot of the bed in the process.

He lays there, still for moments, the last scenes of the dream rolling through his mind….

He’s unable to sleep the rest of the day….

*       *       *

Buffy wakes with a jerk, kicking the foot of what use to be her mother’s bed.

Buffy lays still for quiet awhile, letting the memories of that night come back to her. It was strange. She had been dreaming about their time together every night since she had been back, each as vivid as if it were happening again.

This dream had been their second to last time together, the last time being in the basement of the Magic Box.

Throwing back the blankets, she gets up and walks over to the open window, and looks out onto the quiet backyard. It was the middle of the afternoon but she didn’t feel like seeing anyone.

She was glad that Dawn hadn’t wanted to sleep in here with her tonight. She was sure that she had been making noise tonight.

That night, they had spent all night in bed together. It had been the best out of experiences of the best lovemaking she had ever been involved in.

Her thoughts drift back to that night…

They had fallen asleep for a short time after the last time. They both had woke close to dawn. They had dressed in silence, staying close to each other the whole time.

When they got to his crypt, Buffy had tucked him into bed, however silly it had been, and sat at his side until he fell asleep. She had stroked his hair back from his face for a while after that.

She had bent down and gently pressed her lips to his sharp cheekbone, and whispered desire very reluctantly into his ear.

Buffy turns away from the window, and remorsefully crawls back into bed. Pulling the covers over her, she wished for something heavy, and something with a cool touch.