Spike took a swig from his beer as he glanced around the Bronze. The club was relatively packed that evening and the music pounding from the stereo system was good enough to have a majority of the patrons out on the dance floor. Normally, he would be enjoying the sight of all the young flesh writhing out on the floor, listening to their blood racing in their veins, the scents of sweat and arousal filling the air, drawing him and every other vampire in the vicinity into the hunt.

Tonight, however, it was only depressing him. It was reminding him that, no matter how much he wanted to be part of the hunt, he couldn't participate.

Soddin' chip, he thought, taking another long swig of his beer. As soon as he could get it removed, each and every mortal in the Bronze was going to be shagged or eaten or both.

"And bugger whatever the Slayer says," Spike muttered to himself, scratching at the label on the bottle with his thumbnail. "She'll be munched right along with the others, especially that bloody soldier schmuck."

Buffy had told Spike the night before that she was planning on patrolling then going to see Riley, leaving him alone for the night. Why she insisted on still dating that nonce was beyond his grasp. Spike wished that Adam -- the bad guy of the week -- had skewered the boy just a little bit higher. But no, Cornboy was alive and kicking, and Buffy had appointed herself a Candy Striper.

Spike was okay with her casual dating of other mortals. It wasn't as if he was in love with her or anything. If she wanted to find hearts and flowers, more the reason to keep his gob shut over whom she dates. He was only interested in shagging her and fighting by her side.

He pursed his lips as he thought back to a couple of weeks ago when he'd painfully learned his extracurricular activities weren't earning him any points in the demon community. In his book, violence was violence. If he was killing something, he was happy, even if he ended up being on the white hats team. The other demons didn't have the same views, as he'd found out when the fists started flying.

That was another reason he was at the Bronze having a beer. He was no longer welcome at any of the vampire or demon establishments. He knew he could hold his own against several opponents, as long as he wasn't sucker-punched again, but it wasn't worth the hassle. Beer and blood were available other places, and he could always score points with his fuckmate if he helped protect the yokels.

Spike started across the club, aiming for the couches set up in a small alcove. He hadn't seen any of the Slayer's flunkies as of yet, but they usually ended up at the Bronze. He knew he could count on them for a bit of distraction, especially the witch. The redhead was so fun to goad.

"Whoop."

Someone bumped into Spike and, as he went to growl at the person, he was shocked to find himself facing the Slayer. The scent radiating from her was hot and heavy, from her own arousal and that of several males -- none of which was the unmistakable scent of the nonce from Iowa. Had Buffy lied to him?

"Oh, you," he said, his feelings churning in anger, confusion... and jealousy?

"And you," Buffy said, almost carelessly.

Spike went on the offensive, like he always did, to hide the tumultuous emotions swirling inside of him. "What, are you keeping tabs on me? You're gonna give me a hard time now?"

Buffy frowned slightly at him. "Um, do I usually give you a hard time?"

"Very funny," Spike said wryly. "Well, you don't have to worry about me drinking," he lifted his bottle of beer and gave her a sardonic smile, "unless you're here to protect innocent beers."

"You're a vampire," Buffy said.

Spike narrowed his eyes at her. What was her game? "Was," he corrected, and was immediately disgusted by the bitterness in his voice. Anger at his situation colored his speech as he continued. "And as soon as I get this chip out of my head, I'll be a vampire again. But until then, I'm just as helpless as a kitten up a tree. So why don't you sod off?"

Buffy shrugged. "Ok," she said, then turned to walk away from him.

The anger Spike was feeling spiked with her attitude. He'd thought she actually had some compassion for him. "Oh, fine! Throw it in my face! Spike's not a threat anymore. I'll turn my back. He can't hurt me."

"Spike?" Buffy turned around and looked at him for a moment, then a smile crossed her face. "Spike. William the Bloody with a chip in his head. I kind of love this town."

Spike glared angrily at her. "You know why I really hate you, Summers?"

"'Cause I'm a stuck-up tight-ass with no sense of fun?"

Spike blinked in surprise in how she answered, knocking him out of the black tornado of anger he'd been feeling. "Well, yeah, that covers a lot of it."

Buffy started walking towards him, her hips swaying back and forth in a way guaranteed to make him look. "Cause I could do anything I want, and instead, I choose to pout and whine and feel the burden of slayerness?" she continued. "I mean, I could be rich, I could be famous, I could have anything. Anyone."

She put her hand on his chest, her fingers caressing him through the black tee. "Even you, Spike," she said, her voice dipping down to a wicked level, causing his eyes to focus on her lips. "I could ride you at a gallop until your legs buckled and your eyes rolled up. I've got muscles you've never even dreamed of. I could squeeze you until you popped like warm champagne, and you'd beg me to hurt you just a little bit more."

Spike couldn't believe she was talking so explicitly dirty to him. He couldn't take his eyes off her her mouth. He cock swelled so much he could hear his zipper breaking from the pressure. He wanted to push her hard against the metal column and fuck her right there, sod the others in the Bronze.

"And you know why I don't?" Buffy asked him. She licked her lips, raised up slightly on her toes and looked at him straight in the eyes. "Because it's wrong."

Spike was slammed out of his arousal with brute force and it wasn't from her words. He stared after her as she walked away from him with something akin to horror.

That hadn't been his Slayer looking at him through her hazel eyes. That had been someone else.

The blond vampire practically flew all the way to Giles's house, he was running so fast. He burst into the ex-Watcher's home without knocking. "Giles! We have a bloody huge problem!"

Giles turned to Spike, exposing a dark-haired girl he'd been speaking with. Her large, brown eyes met Spike's and, for the second time in less than twenty minutes, the vampire was shocked. He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut and crossed to the girl in four rapid steps.

Spike pulled her into an abrupt, fierce hug, then released her only enough to look down at the unfamiliar face. "Soddin' hell, Slayer, what's going on? There's some chit at the Bronze wearing your skin and you're wearing someone else's!"

"You know it's me?" Buffy said in a trembling, amazed voice.

"You know that's Buffy?" Giles asked at the same time.

Spike released the taller girl completely and turned so he could speak with both of them. "Yes, I know it's Buffy. What I don't know is why the bloody hell she's suddenly taller, more built and a non-dyed brunette."

Buffy stared at Spike, stunned at the fact that he knew immediately it was her. Giles couldn't tell without playing Twenty Questions, even though she'd been able to tell who he was by looking into his eyes when Ethan had turned him into a demon. She had thought her mentor would have been able to do the same with her, but he hadn't -- Spike had.

"It-it seems that Faith switched bodies with Buffy," Giles explained to Spike.

"And why would she do that?" Spike asked.

"Revenge," Buffy replied, snapping out of her amazement. She'd think about the odd feelings bubbling inside of her because of Spike later, after she dealt with her body-swapping problem.

Spike looked at the brunette and frowned. "For what? That body you're in smells human."

"Faith is human," Giles said. "Psychotic, but human."

"Do you remember hearing anything about a Slayer batting for the other team, Spike?" Buffy asked the vampire. "It was around this time last year? She played daughter to Mayor Wilkins the Ascension-happy moron who got his ass kicked by moi?"

Spike nodded. "I heard about that, but I also heard she was in a coma or something."

"She was. I put her in one," Buffy said. "But she's awake now."

"You put her in one?" Spike arched his brow at her. "Another human?"

"There are exceptions for evil Slayers who poison your lover," Buffy said bluntly.

"You mean, the poof..." Spike trailed off at her unblinking stare. Brown eyes or hazel, there was no way the girl in front of him was anyone but his Buffy. "Right."

"Well, I guess we'd best start," Giles said, breaking into the heavy silence that descended. "From what you've told me, er, B-Buffy, Faith used some sort of device to trigger the soul transference?"

"Yeah," Buffy replied. "She put it on her hand, then grabbed mine. No flashy lights or anything, just poof -- I'm looking at myself."

Giles nodded and moved to his bookshelf. "We'll start with the 'non-flashy lights' researching first, then move on from there."

"Now I know I'm in trouble," Buffy said to Spike. "Giles made a joke."

Spike gave her a half-smile. "Someone warn the masses."

She laughed and Spike relaxed. If Buffy could laugh and make witty commentary, she would be fine. That's one of the things he found fascinating about her -- her unflagging spirit in the face of some bloody weird shit.

Two hours later, the blond vampire sighed and hung up the phone. "She's still not there, Giles," he told the ex-Watcher.

"Well, we'll just have to continue to make do," Giles said, not looking up from the book he was paging through. "Willow will return eventually."

Spike had always thought that the little witch and friends had some sort of evil radar that went off when things went to pot. They seemed to gather with unerring accuracy without being summoned from what he'd seen.

The blond vampire glanced down the hallway, a frown appearing between his brows. Buffy had been a long time in the WC, he thought.

Spike's feet were carrying him down the hall and around the corner before he was even aware of moving. The bathroom door was shut and he raised his hand to knock.

He was halted by the muffled sounds of crying.

Spike's frown deepened and he knocked softly. "Slayer, you okay?"

"I'm fine," came the quick answer through the door.

"Liar," Spike said to himself before he turned the doorknob.

"Spike, what are you doing?!" Buffy exclaimed, scrubbing her wet cheeks with her hands as the blond vampire entered the bathroom.

"I came to reminisce about my fun-loving times chained in the tub," he replied wryly, shutting the door behind him.

"Well, go away," she told him.

Spike shook his head. "Not until you tell me why you're hiding in the closet, crying, instead of helping to get you back into your regular trappings."

"But what if we can't find a way?" Buffy said, turning to look at herself in the mirror again. Faith's face looked back at her. "What if I'm stuck in Faith's body forever?"

"She's still a Slayer, right?" Spike said. Buffy nodded. "Then you keep on doing what you always do -- fight evil and shag me rotten."

Buffy's horrified gaze shot to his. "You want to have sex with me when I look like this?"

Spike raked his eyes over Faith's more lush curves, a purely male smile curling his lips. "You look pretty fuckable in that body, pet."

"You... you... you jerk!"

Spike raised his head and found himself looking at a furious Slayer. "What?" he asked in confusion.

"'What'?! 'What'?!" Buffy said incredulously. "It's bad enough that I'm screwing a vampire on a regular basis, but at least it's monogamous sex. I should have known that you'd stick it in anyone you can."

"What the hell are you blabberin' about, Slayer?" Spike said in total puzzlement.

"You want to have sex with me!" Buffy hissed.

"Er, yeah," Spike agreed warily. "That was the general plan."

"You.... you... pig-dog! I can't believe you want to screw Faith!" Buffy exclaimed. "She's skanky and... and slutty! And she probably has a million diseases-"

Spike stepped over to her and put his hands on her shoulders, dropping his head slightly to look straight into her eyes. "Slayer, what does Faith have to do with anything?"

"Duh," Buffy said. "Who do I look like?"

Realization as to what Buffy was going on about hit Spike. He shook his head, a smile tugging up his lips. "Pet, I don't want to shag Faith, I want to shag you."

"Not seeing much difference right now," Buffy grumbled.

"Oh, there's a huge difference, luv," Spike told her. He began to slowly slide a hand down her arm. "It doesn't matter if you're tall or short, plump or bird-like, more busty...," he cupped her breast, "...or have a perfect handful, if you're a brunette...," he gave her a wicked smile, "...or a brunette."

"Spike." Buffy blushed.

"Slayer, it's you I've been lusting after twenty-four-seven, ever since Willow's cocked up spell, not your looks," Spike said in a low, silky voice. "It's your goodness and sarcastic wit and passion and youthfulness and inner strength that I crave to touch."

He leaned closer to her, caressing her breast through the material of her shirt. "Let me touch you, sweetheart."

"Yes," Buffy breathed.

Spike captured her mouth immediately, drawing her into a deep kiss. He continued to fondle her breast, lightly pinching her nipple, eliciting a soft moan from her. Her hands slid around his waist and she untucked his shirt in the back. When her warm hands touched his bare skin in a familiar way, he hardened fully beneath his trousers.

"Ah, luv," he murmured after he dragged his lips from hers. He pushed her back against the tiled wall and began to kiss and nibble along her jaw. "Why do I want you so much?"

"Don't know, don't care, touch me," Buffy ordered, rubbing her hips forward against him.

Spike chuckled. "Bossy chit," he said, nipping at her earlobe.

"Yes, I am. Now touch me before I stake yo-ooooh," she groaned as he bent and sucked her pebbled nipple into his mouth through her shirt. "That's nice."

Spike raised the hem of her shirt up and deftly unhooked the front clasp of the black satin bra she wore. Two, full, creamy breasts greeted his vision, each graced with a dark rose areola the size of a half-dollar and tipped with the hard buds of her nipples. He leaned forward, dragged his tongue over one and was rewarded with a throaty moan of his name.

Different body, same reactions, he thought. He grabbed the stiff peak of her nipple with his blunt teeth and tugged lightly. Buffy whimpered just like he knew she would.

As Spike continued to suckle and tease her breasts, he worked on baring more of her new body. Buffy felt the cooler air on skin as the pants and panties she was wearing were pulled down to her knees. She felt herself become wet in anticipation and excitement, and when his strong fingers slid into her channel, she shuddered at the exquisite feelings he evoked.

Spike straightened and captured her mouth again, his fingers still dancing along her damp cleft, stroking her intimately. Buffy pressed her bare breasts against his shirt-covered chest, rubbing her sensitive nipples back and forth over the material. She whimpered in distress when he suddenly pulled completely away from her.

Buffy whimpered for an entirely different reason when he turned her around so she was facing the tiled wall. She heard the rasp of a zipper and the muscles in her much different body coiled with sexual tension. She felt the top of his shaft slide down between her buttocks and lower still until he was at her moist entry. Then, he buried himself inside of her with one, sure thrust, and they both inhaled sharply at the familiar pleasure that coursed through them.

Spike put his hands possessively on Buffy's more curvaceous hips and slowly began to move. He watched with a hungry passion as his turgid member appeared and vanished beneath her creamy behind, its length glistening in the harsh bathroom light from her vaginal juices. Her inner walls fluttered then grasped at him, and his eyelids fell shut because of the erotic sensation.

His pace increased until he was steadily driving into her, bringing them both closer and closer to the edge of completion. Buffy gasped with each hit of his pelvis against her backside and, when his hand slid around her body and his fingers found the aching knob of flesh between her netherlips, she let out a muffled cry as an orgasm ripped through her.

Spike's eyes rolled under his closed lids as Buffy squeezed his cock as she came. Faith had been wrong -- he knew exactly what muscles a Slayer's body had and what they could do to him. After a few more hard thrusts, a hoarse curse was torn from his throat as he dropped headlong into his own climax.

He held Buffy pressed tight against him for several long minutes as he gathered himself back together after his orgasm. He could hear Buffy panting softly and the tangy scent of sex drifted from her body to his nose. He finally slipped free from her and tucked himself away.

Buffy turned around, pulling down her shirt at the same time. She opened her mouth to say something, but Spike cut her off with a deep kiss.

"I'll let you get cleaned up, luv," Spike said quietly after he broke the kiss. He lifted his hand a brushed a dark lock of hair away from her unfamiliar face with the oh-so-familiar look in her eyes. He gave her a half-smile, then left the bathroom.

Buffy slumped back against the tiled wall when the door clicked shut behind him, her pants still around her knees. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught her reflection and turned her head. Faith's flushed face looked out of the mirror at her, but the brown eyes reflected a sparkle Buffy had never seen when Faith was in possession of her own body.

The Slayer wrinkled her nose, stuck out her tongue, then smiled. There were worse bodies she could have found herself in, Buffy thought. She lifted up her shirt again and arched both her brows in appreciation at the reflection of her new breasts in the mirror.

Buffy caught her own gaze again and laughed loudly when she realized how ridiculous she was behaving. With a shake of her dark head, she began to get cleaned up.

Spike grinned to himself when he heard the husky laughter float down the hallway to the kitchen, where he was drying his hands after having washed them in the sink. He caught the ex-Watcher's questioning look over the bar-counter in the kitchen wall and he lifted one shoulder in a shrug.

"Don't look at me, Giles," he said. "She spent the last fifteen minutes using me as a personal punching bag all because I asked her if I could have a little snack."

"You asked her if you could drink her blood?" Giles said with aplomb.

"It's not like that's her real body," Spike countered. "And Slayer's blood is the creme-de-la-creme of blood."

"Right. Well, er, at least she sounds more cheerful," Giles said. "I'd imagine it must be horrifying for her to be trapped in-in someone else's body."

"Guys, check this out," Faith's voice drifted to the two men before the dark-haired Slayer came into view. "Faith's double-jointed. This is so cool."

Spike snorted at Giles's stunned expression as Buffy stopped in front of the bar-counter and wiggled her thumbs for them. The blond vampire gave her a secretive smile when she turned her eyes to him.

"I think he's suitably impressed, ducks," Spike said. "More impressed than by my asking you to bleed a little for me before you decided I could use a good arse-kicking."

Buffy frowned in confusion at him for a second before she caught on. "Hey, this Slayer doesn't bleed for just any vampire," she told him loftily.

Giles's front door opened and Willow and Tara came rushing in. "Giles!"

"Will!" Buffy exclaimed.

"Oh, my god," Willow said, staring at Buffy.

"Willow, wait. You don't understand-"

"You're Buffy," Willow interrupted. "You and Faith switched bodies, probably through a Draconian Katra spell."

"She understands it better than I do," Giles muttered disheartedly.

"How did you know?" Buffy asked Willow.

"Tara," Willow replied. She gestured to the blond beside her. "Tara, this is Buffy, only really this time."

"Hi," Tara said shyly.

"Tara's a really powerful witch," Willow said.

"Not really," Tara said.

"No, really," Willow said emphatically. "She knew right away that you weren't you. So we connected with the nether realms to find out what happened. And we conjured this."

Willow held out a small ringbox.

"What is--" Buffy began to say, but was interrupted again.

"It's a Katra," Willow explained. "Or the home-conjured version. It-it should switch you back, if you can get a hold of Faith."

"Oh, thank god," Buffy sighed in relief. Then, she looked over at Spike and a corner of her mouth turned up before she added, "Even though, no matter what body I'm stuck in, I'm still me."

Spike winked at her and, as the phone began to ring and the conversation turned to planning on how to capture Faith, he leaned casually on the counter and watched as his Slayer shined through another girl's eyes.

Buffy was in the middle of riding Spike into his third orgasm that day when she suddenly stopped and said, "Food."

Spike's eyes flew open and he stared up at the tiny goddess atop of him. "What?" he asked, his voice extremely rough.

"Food," Buffy repeated, a thoughtful look on her face. "Every time we've done...," she gestured between their naked bodies, "...whatever it is we do, food is involved."

"And you decided to have this epiphany now?" Spike couldn't believe it. She was thinking while they were shagging? That shouldn't have been able to happen.

Buffy shrugged. "My mind was drifting over our past... indiscretions... and I realized that somehow, in each situation, food was involved."

She was thinking about something while they were shagging! Spike was dumbfounded and quite miffed. He was lucky if he could recite football statistics to stop himself from orgasming thirty seconds after he buried himself in her heat.

Oh hell, was he losing his touch?

"You see, either we're at a restaurant, or going through the drive-thru, or you're covering me in chocolate syrup and licking me clean-"

Spike groaned and thrust his hips forward as the memory flashed through his mind.

"-or you make a reference to eating me, or having me as a snack," Buffy continued. "See the food connection?"

Spike flipped them over so he was on top and began to move within her again. "There's no food now," he mumbled as he nuzzled her neck.

"Yes, there is," Buffy said. "We're talking about food right this minute."

"Slayer, shut up and let me fuck you," Spike growled at her.

Buffy huffed and shoved at him. "If you're going to act like that, no!"

The vampire lifted his head and gave her an incredulous look. "You're not serious."

"I sure am!" Buffy forcefully rolled him off of her and climbed out of bed. She flounced across the dorm room to her closet, grabbed her robe and put it on. "I'm going to take a shower. Be gone when I get back."

"Like hell you're leaving me like this!" Spike snapped. He stood and stalked over to her, his turgid erection jutting from his body. "You have two seconds to get back on that bed."

"Or else what?" Buffy asked sweetly. "Is the big bad naked vampire going to pout?"

Spike grabbed her roughly then hissed when the pain lanced through his head. "Damn it!"

Buffy laughed. "Serves you right, gelded-fang."

"You wouldn't be this cocky if I could still hurt you," Spike growled.

"You wouldn't be that...," Buffy glanced down at his hard-on then back at his face with an evil grin, "...cocky... if you weren't such a jerk."

"I'm a jerk?! You were the one whose brain had taken a walk while we were shagging! Talk about insulting!"

"I'm sorry, Spike, maybe you just aren't good enough to keep my attention for long," Buffy mocked.

"I'll show you good enough," Spike snarled. He moved to throw her down to the floor and make her howl in pleasure... only to let out a choked-off cry of pain as the thing in his head went off again.

Spike sank to his knees and pressed his hands to his eyes. The physical pain receded quickly, but the mental pain he was feeling refused to go away. He'd never hated the thing in his head more than he did at that moment.

"Spike?" Buffy said with concern, dropping to her knees in front of him. She reached out and touched the back of his hand, only to have him jerk away. Her lips compressed into a thin line of annoyance. "Stop being such a baby."

"Sod off, Slayer," Spike snapped. He glared at her, his blue eyes blazing with pain and anger.

"Sod off yourself!" Buffy snapped back. "You know, I don't have to put up with this. Get out."

"Fine," Spike spat. "It's not like I wanted you anyway."

"Ha!" Buffy exclaimed. "Then why were you in my bed?"

Spike sneered at her. "Because you're a sure thing, luv."

"I'm a what?" Buffy frowned at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Spike snickered cruelly. "It means I only come around because I know you'll spread your legs for me."

The slap sounded like a crack of a whip. Spike's head snapped to one side because of the power behind the blow. He moved his jaw to be certain it hadn't come unhinged as he returned his gaze to a furious Buffy.

"Get out," Buffy hissed. "If I ever see you again, I'll stake you on sight."

"Redundant much?" Spike winced. "Fuck, you've corrupted my bloody speech!"

"And you're an asshole!" Buffy spat. She stood and stomped across the room to the shaded window. With a quick flick of her wrist, the shade flew upwards and sunlight exploded in the room.

Spike yelled when the sunlight hit him and he dove into the open closet. Shoes and weapons were thrown out as Buffy's shouted at him, "Spike, stop throwing my shoes, and get the hell out of my closet!"

The Slayer's head appeared at the same time he threw one of her spiked heels and it hit her in the face. Both of them froze.

Then, with a screech, Buffy attacked Spike.

Spike smacked the back of his head against the wall as Buffy jumped on him. The clothing overhead swung wildly in a mimic of Buffy's punches. He tried to fend her off, but each time he went to hit her back the chip went off.

"Damn it, Slayer, cut it out!" Spike snarled at her after a vicious scratch from her tore the skin on his cheek. He grabbed both of her wrists and forced her to stop hitting him. It was almost impossible to ignore the pain shooting through his head, but he managed until she stopped struggling.

"I hate you." Buffy's voice was tight when she spoke. "I hate you so much."

Tears were streaming down Buffy's reddened face. Her blond hair was sticking up in a disarray from the clothes having brushed against it while she was fighting with Spike. Her pink robe gaped open, the sash completely undone, and her breasts rose and fell with her rapid breathing.

Spike was aroused by how she looked; angry, tear-streaked, and hateful. Her pain sang to him. He released her wrists, grabbed her hips and lifted her just enough to slip back inside of her heat. She gasped as he thrust up into her, impaling her on his hard cock, but she didn't fight him. He wished she would, because it would make taking her all the more sweeter.

"I miss you, Slayer," Spike said suddenly, rocking his hips up into the cradle of hers. "I miss fighting with you with my fists and feeling your tender body bruising under my punches."

"You're sick, you know that?" Buffy said, covering his hands with hers at her waist.

"I'm a vampire, sweets," Spike said with a small shrug of his shoulders. "Or have I become so bloody pathetic that you've forgotten that fact?"

Buffy was silent, slowly moving her body in rhythm with his as she looked down at his scratched and bleeding face. She felt a stirring of smug pride at the marks she'd left on him. It was quickly followed by horror when she realized she was aroused by hurting him, just as he was by hurting her.

Her mind flitted back through the encounters she'd had with the blond vampire over the years. It was true. With each physical fight she'd had with him, she remembered being excited to the point of barely stopping herself from throwing him to the ground and taking him. If she hadn't have had a boyfriend and a guilty conscience, she probably would have done it.

She was the one who was sick. She didn't have the excuse of being a soulless demon. She was a human being who got off on others' pain.

A frown settled between her brows. It wasn't just anyone's pain, she realized. She couldn't remember being aroused when she fought with anyone other than Spike. Not even fighting with Angelus, the vampire who wore the face of her love, could excite her. It was just Spike.

And now, with the chip in Spike's head, they were fucking instead of fighting. The sex was beyond great, but Buffy suddenly knew that if they had gotten to this point after a few rounds of beating on each other, the sex would have been astronomical.

If they would have gotten to that point. If one of them didn't kill the other first. If they would have been able to put aside their hatred for one another long enough to hump like bunnies.

"I miss it, too," she whispered finally, avoiding his piercing blue eyes. "You were the only one who was ever truly my equal."

"Someone's full of herself," Spike said, watching her curiously. The expressions flitting across her features were impossible for him to read.

Buffy's lips tilted slightly in a mock-smile. "What can I say? I'm the best."

"That you are, pet," Spike agreed. He reached up and cupped her cheek. When her eyes focused on him, he gave her a small smile. "Would you hate me if I told you that you're beautiful when you're all tear-streaked and in pain?"

"No," Buffy brushed her fingers over his pale lips, "because you're a vampire and you like that sort of thing."

Spike tugged gently at her until she was pressed against him. His mouth found hers and the two engaged in a silent conversation using their lips and tongues. He pushed her robe from her shoulders and let it pool on his thighs as he ran his hands down her bare back to cup her buttocks.

Buffy moved against him, loving the feel of his hard length filling her core. His cool body felt wonderful pressed to her heated one. She knew she was forever ruined because of him. She doubted she'd be able to stand the heat and sweatiness of human males after this affair had ended.

The thought of Spike and her strange relationship ending made her stiffen in his arms and stop rocking against him. Spike broke the kiss and opened his eyes, a small frown marring his brow.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I don't want this to end," Buffy confessed quietly.

Spike could have played her statement off as a joke, but he found he didn't want to. An uncomfortable knot settled in the center of his chest. "Who said it's going to end?"

"It will," Buffy said. "Either you'll get the chip out and one of us will die, or one of us will find someone else."

Spike abruptly snarled loudly and flipped them so he was looming over her. His ridges stood out starkly against his features and his gold eyes glowed with passion.

"Listen to me, Buffy," he growled. "The Initiative was destroyed and I refused Adam when he tried to bribe me, so the chip's probably never going to come out." The vampire surged against her, making her gasp. "And there is no way in hell I'm giving this up. You're the only reason I'm still unliving rather than lining someone's flowerbed."

"Oh," Buffy said in a tiny voice.

"Yeah, oh," Spike allowed his features to smooth out, and he met her wide-eyed gaze squarely. "I'm not going to love you, Buffy. I will point out your shortcomings, tell you when you're wrong, revel in your pain, and laugh at your misfortunes."

He bent and brushed a light kiss on her lips. "But I will always be honest with you. I'll watch your back and keep your chums safe. I won't bring up your ex and I'll keep mum about anything you tell me. Most importantly, I'll shag you until you beg me to stop and then I'll shag you some more."

Spike gave her a half-smile. "And if you go and fall in love with some tosser, I'll make sure he's good enough for you, then I'll ride off into the night like a bloody white hat and you'll never see me again."

Buffy felt her insides turn to mush and tears filled her eyes once more. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a searing kiss.

Spike started to move again. His thrusts were long and hard, his pelvis hitting her with solid, repetitive smacks. Buffy's legs locked around his waist and she raised herself up to meet him. He groaned as her vaginal walls quivered around his cock.

Spike tore his mouth from hers and kissed down her jawline to her ear. He gently bit her earlobe and Buffy whimpered softly in pleasure. Her fingernails dug into the back of his neck as his hard thrusts drove her closer to orgasm.

"Sweet Slayer," Spike murmured, sliding his lips down the side of her neck. "My Slayer."

A surge of possessiveness swept over Buffy as Spike sucked lightly on the skin over her jugular. She tightened her arms and legs around him, and Spike gasped when she firmly clenched his shaft with her inner muscles. "My vampire," she growled by his ear.

Her words unleashed Spike's control and, with a loud roar of pleasure, he crushed his mouth down upon Buffy's. The blond vampire began pounding into her, the rug burning his knees as he thrust. His tongue dueled viciously with the Slayer's, and neither of them gave an inch until they both screamed out with their climaxes.

Spike collapsed on top of Buffy, shaken by the intensity of his orgasm. He listened to her rapid breathing and thundering heartbeat as she slowly came down from her own orgasm. He loved the feel of her hands as they ran along his back and brushed through his hair while he panted uncontrollably against her neck.

Perfect, he thought. Nothing could be more perfect than how things were right then. With a content sigh, Spike moved next to Buffy and allowed himself to drift off into post-orgasmic sleep.

Buffy smiled in the semi-dark closet as the man beside her became silent and still. She reached behind her and pulled out the boot that was digging into her back. With a small chuckle, she tossed it out the open closet door, then turned and snuggled against her vampire lover. Soon, she joined him in sleep.