"You know what? I don’t think you want us to let you go. Maybe we made it a little too comfy for ya."

"Comfy?" Spike sounded incredulous. "I’m chained up in a bathtub drinking pig’s blood from a novelty mug. Doesn’t rate high in the Zagat’s guide."

Buffy leaned in toward him, putting her face right near his. "You want something nicer?" Then she took on a suggestive tone of voice and ran her fingers along her neck. "Look at my poor neck. All bare, and tender, and exposed. All that blood just pumping away…"

She could see Spike’s eyes widen as he came closer to her neck and, behind her, Giles rolled his eyes and left the room, going to talk to Willow.

"Giles, make her stop," Spike whined.

She swung her leg over the rim of the white tub and taunted, "Look at that." She stepped all the way into the bathtub, one leg on each side of Spike’s body, really getting in his face. She knelt down and put her neck right under his eyes. "Bet you want that, don’t you?"

He growled, knowing he couldn’t have it, and grabbed the back of the Slayer’s legs. She fell into his lap, straddling him. She looked into his eyes, about to get up and out of the tub, when he slowly brought his hands to her face. But the chains prevented him from going any further than her shoulders, so she leaned over and brought her face inches from his. They both wore confused looks as Spike’s hands slid along her cheek.

She leaned closer to him and her mouth found his. They locked in a soft kiss that slowly turned into a deep one. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She could feel the bulge in his pants press against her and when his tongue slipped into her mouth, she pulled back. She looked at him, shocked, then heard a voice coming from the living room.

"Bye, Buffy. I’ll see you at the house," Willow called to her friend.

Buffy jumped out of the bathtub, wiping her mouth. "Bye," she said as casually as she could. She grabbed the mug of blood and sat on the edge of the tub as Giles’s footsteps got closer to the bathroom. "This never happened," she warned Spike.

As he walked in, Buffy and Spike watched each other suspiciously, looks of shock and anger on their faces.

* * *

* * *

Buffy woke up on Giles’s couch, thoroughly wigged by her dream. Spike, she thought, touching me. And I liked it. Her dream had been so vivid, and she thought it might mean something more than her own wacky fantasies. Maybe it’s trying to tell me something.

She slowly stood up and walked past the kitchen, where Giles was making tea.

"Did you have a good rest?" he asked her.

She looked at him and tried to appear normal. "Oh, yeah. You know, very restful." She tried to sound cheery, but knew it came off weird. "I’m just gonna check to make sure Spike is still tied up properly." And not haunting my dreams, she added to herself.

She walked over to the doorway of the bathroom. Spike had his eyes closed and was resting his head against the edge of the tub. She turned to leave, satisfied, but a voice held her back.

"Slayer," Spike said, without even opening an eye.

"What?" Buffy asked casually.

Spike opened his eyes and looked at her. "What are you doing?"

"Just checking on you." She nervously shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Making sure you’re still tied up."

She turned to leave again, but he said, "You don’t have to go, pet. You can watch the telly with me if you want."

Buffy said nothing as closed the door behind her. She pulled up a chair and sat beside the bathtub, looking up at the screen. Finally, she spoke. "What’s on?"

"Passions," he replied simply.

On the screen, Timmy and Tabatha watched as Zombie Charity and Kay fought like, well, girls. But from the corner of her eye, Buffy saw Spike watching her. She struggled to keep her eyes fixed on the television, but she was getting nervous. Having had enough, she stood up and looked at Spike, hands on her hips. "What? What is it?"

When he didn’t answer, just kept staring at her, as if in awe, she said, "That’s it. I’m leaving."

But his hand shot out and grabbed the fabric of her pants, right near her knee.

"Wait," he said. "Shouldn’t we talk about what happened before, luv?"

"There’s nothing to talk about," Buffy harshly denied.

"Really? Then what was that whimper that escaped your lips when I…"

He faltered, searching for the right words. Buffy finished for him. "Stuck your tongue down my throat?"

"Yeah, that’s it." Spike smiled.

"That wasn’t a whimper!" Buffy said, trying to keep her voice down so that Giles wouldn’t hear. "That was an oh-my-god-get-off-me-this-is-creepy-and-disgusting sound of revulsion."

"Really?" he asked again. His fingers glided up the back of her thigh, and he pulled her into the tub. She sat on his lap with her feet dangling off the edge. She searched her pockets for the key to Spike’s chains and quickly removed them. His right hand grabbed the back of her head and pulled her into a ferocious kiss.

His left hand went between her legs. He squeezed her thigh and ran his fingers along her pussy and up to the zipper of her jeans. He unzipped her pants and slid his hand down her underwear, surprised to find that she was wet.

"You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?" he asked. She replied with a groan of pleasure as he began to massage her softly, then harder.

She moaned as his lips found her neck and he began to bombard her with kisses. He slipped two fingers into her and she yelped silently, wrapping her arms around him. His right hand grabbed a fistful of her hair and he kissed her hard. She did the same, running her fingers through his hair.

Weird, she thought. Spike’s hair is softer than it appears to be.

Their tongues intertwined and he thrust another finger into her wetness. She gasped with pleasure, and it didn’t even register when she heard footsteps in the hall.

"Buffy? Are you all right?" Giles asked from behind the door. "I thought I heard a noise."

She forced herself out of the trance-like state she was in and replied, "Yes. I’m fine."

"Okay," Giles answered. "Let me know if you need anything." He went back into the kitchen.

"What do you think?" Spike asked her, whispering into her ear. "Can you handle more?"

He removed one of his fingers and began to thrust the two remaining ones in and out of the Slayer’s pussy. They slid easily, and Buffy finally realized what was happening. She was wet. She was enjoying this.

"Spike…" she moaned.

She felt her body now, realizing that her nipples had grown stiff and noticing the bulge in Spike’s pants, which was hard and pressed against her hip. Spike’s hand ran up her shirt and under her bra, massaging her breast. Buffy took a deep breath and unzipped Spike’s pants, shoving her hand down his boxers. She felt his dick in her hand and ran her fingers along it, exploring his body. He removed the two fingers that had given her so much pleasure and looked at her.

She looked into his eyes and his gaze was filled with surprise and awe. Before she realized what she was doing, she took her hand away and pulled his jeans down to his ankles. Her own pants were thrown across the room and she straddled him.

He looked at her questioningly, and she nodded, breathing deeply. He thrust himself into her and she moaned, feeling every inch of her tingle with lust. His hands trailed down her back and they kissed savagely. She moved with grace, bobbing up and down, keeping her gaze locked on Spike’s big blue eyes.

God, Spike thought. Look at her. She’s so beautiful.

She finally broke the stare and her head fell to his shoulder—her forehead resting on his neck—as he kissed her ear. He pulled her shirt down to expose her shoulder, pushing her hair away. His tongue ran from her neck to her shoulder, and she gasped with the coldness of his touch.

Amazingly, she felt warm, despite being so close to his cold and lifeless body. She felt good.

"Oh, Spike…" But her words were cut short by the orgasm that hit her and she had to clamp a hand over her mouth to stop from screaming is name and alerting the whole neighborhood that she was having sex.

He grinned and pulled her closer to him, their forehead touching. She smiled too and moved even harder against him, wanting badly to push him over the edge. It happened quickly, quicker than she expected it would, and she realized that maybe her dream was meant to indicate something.

In her dream, he had told her he loved her. Maybe he really did. She gave him one more, soft kiss, letting him know that was it, and she stood up. They got dressed in silence. When she turned to face him, he stood beside the tub, just watching her. She looked down to the floor, embarrassed about what had just happened. Afraid of what would happen next.

He walked toward her. "I don’t know what to say, luv."

"Then don’t say anything," she replied. "Just forget this ever happened."

He looked disappointed. "So that’s it, then? We just forget and go back to being mortal enemies?" he asked. "It doesn’t work that way, Goldielocks. I’ve tasted you. You’ve tasted me."

"It tasted sour." Buffy didn’t ever want to hear about this again. She felt a twinge of pain when she saw the look on Spike’s face. Total deception. But she didn’t want to give him false hope. She knew she felt something deep down inside her, but she really liked Riley. She couldn’t do the dead boyfriend thing again. "I slipped. It was nothing. Don’t ever talk about it again."

She left the room, knowing what she felt but never admitting it.