"Giles has been reading that paper and muttering for the last hour. I don't know what's so fascinating...reading about people you don't know doing things you don't care about."

"Must be something Watchery."  Buffy stood in front of Giles and bent the paper down.  "Don't tell me.  Somehow dire portents have now found their way into the Sunnydale Times.  Evil has found mass media.  What will be next?" she asked in a mock frightened voice

He snapped the paper back into place.  "There has been a series of incidents."

"Uh-oh.  Incidents."

He admonished her with a look over the top of the newspaper.  "There seems to be a marked increase in the number of robberies, murders, and lewd acts, all within the last few days."

"Lewd acts?" They all turned as Xander's voice came from the direction of the door.  "What kind of lewd acts and why aren't I ever around when those are going on? Hey, Buff, Giles."  He rounded the counter to give Anya a more personal greeting.

"Hi, Xander."

"Xander."  Giles consulted a notebook near his elbow.  "I've found in total three murders, fifteen reported burglaries, twelve fights, six instances of sexual acts performed in a public place, and the entire clientele of one bar arrested for nudity."

"Name please." Xander looked from one censoring face to another.  "So I can avoid that place, of course."

"That does not include the rash of, shall we say, "questionable" acts I've noticed," Giles continued.

"Questionable, how?" Buffy asked.

"People bursting into song in the middle of the street.  The newspaper section dedicated to engagement announcements has gone from half a page to three pages.  One business had to close down for the day because so many of the employees did not report for work.  Injuries and deaths that can be attributed to reckless acts such as car racing, bungee jumping, etc, have increased immeasurably. It's all much too coincidental."

"So, what, you think someone's doling out the band candy again?"

"Or someone has cast a spell.  Or perhaps there's some sort of demon involvement."

Anya nodded.  "Sounds like a Chaos demon."

Giles's eyes widened.  "Yes.  Of course.  There must be one loose in Sunnydale."

Buffy straightened.  "A demon.  I'm up.  So, where do I find it, what does it look like, and how do I kill it?" 

"Oh, killing a Chaos demon is very easy," Anya said.  "They're actually very passive, for a demon.  You just have to avoid the slime."

"Slime?"  Buffy wrinkled her nose and looked down at her red leather pants.  "Okay, change of plans.  I'm so not getting slime on these."

Anya opened her mouth, but Giles spoke first. "You must not get it anywhere on you at all, Buffy. It's coming into contact with the slime that makes people lose all their inhibitions.  The effects only last a few hours, but quite a lot of damage can be done in that time."

They followed Buffy into the workout room to grab some weapons.

"So, people cut loose some.  What's the big with that?" Xander asked as he grabbed a bag and began filling it with smaller knives and hatchets.

"This isn't simply a case of people becoming inebriated and acting somewhat moronic.  The slime of a Chaos demon is easily spread and leaves a person prey to his basest desires.  A - a person sees something he wants, he takes it.  He desires a woman, he takes her.  It tears away all the rules of society.  With no rules, there is only - well...chaos.  "

"So, slime bad.  Got it."  Buffy hefted a long-handled, wicked-looking axe.  "This oughta keep him at arm's length.  Xander, you with me?"

Xander grabbed a crossbow.  "Right behind you. So, where would this bad boy be hiding?"

"Chaos demons are quite sociable creatures, really.  You might try any of the more popular demon bars, especially the ones humans also frequent."

Xander turned to smile broadly at Anya. "Honey, I'm going bar-hopping. Don't wait up."

She stood on tiptoe to kiss him good-bye. "Be careful.  Watch out for his antlers."

Buffy looked in surprise at Giles. "Antlers? This thing has antlers?" 

"Yes, and you'll find he's quite adept at fighting with them. And the slime is secreted from the antlers."

"Great. Slimy and pointy.  Come on, Xander."

                                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~

Willy grunted as Buffy slammed him against a wall.  "Slayer.  Long time no see.  How's it going?"

"Chaos demon.  Have you seen him?"

"Chaos demon?  They usually avoid towns with Slayers in them."

"This one isn't." She applied more pressure, making him wince as his face was ground against the wall. "Do we have to do this every time?  Do you like pain or something?  Just tell me what you know."

"Potter Street.  Bar named The Blue Goat.  Try that."

                                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A couple, both in their mid-thirties and dressed in business suits, skipped by Buffy and Xander, giggling and holding hands.  Two men rolled on the ground, fighting over the grinning woman who stood nearby.  An alarm sounded, and seconds later a teenager ran by carrying a TV.

Xander turned to watch the fleeing thief.   "I'd say we're heading in the right direction.  Oh! Oh! Lewd act, two o'clock!"

Buffy turned to see a woman standing against a wall with a man kneeling in front of her, his head buried under her skirt.  Buffy grabbed Xander's arm and forcibly pulled him around. 

"Come on.  I see the bar."

Xander and Buffy stood outside of The Blue Goat, their faces reflecting the same expression of disgust. 

Xander sighed. "Now that's exactly the kind of place my mama warned me about."  He brightened.  "Let's go in."

"Remember, don't get slimed."

"Is it really necessary to remind me of that?"

"I'm just saying.  I don't know if the world is ready for Uninhibited Xander," she said with a cheeky grin.

"Oh, and a wild and free Slayer is always good for a laugh.  Remember how much fun it was having Faith around."

"Xander, my deepest desire is to go and buy those $125 shoes I saw the other day.  The only thing in danger is my bank account."

"You are quite the hedonist, aren't you?"

"What can I say? Doesn't take much to please me."  She turned businesslike.  "Let's go."

She threw the door open and stood in the entrance, axe held in front of her at the ready.  Several demons took one look at the armed Slayer and headed for the back entrance.  Buffy swept her eyes around the dark bar, settling on a figure seated at a booth in the back.  The few other customers who remained between her and it scrambled to get out of the line of fire.  The demon looked towards the door at the commotion and his eyes widened.

"Slayer!  Hello.  Isn't this exciting?  I've never met a Slayer before."

"You shouldn't have come to my town," she said.

"Now, let's be reasonable.  I thought you were dead.  I only found out you weren't when I got here."

"It turns out I'm kind of hard to kill.  Bet we can't say the same about you."  She began to cross across the room. "A wise demon would have turned right around and left."

He rose to his feet, holding his cloven hands up in front of him. "I was going to, but I had some friends to catch up on, you know.  It would have been rude to leave without so much as a hello."

"Sucks for you."

Without warning, she swung the axe in a broad arc, aiming for his neck.  He lowered his head, caught the handle in his antlers and yanked the axe out of her hands, flinging it against the wall behind him with a jerk of his head.  Eyes wide, Buffy jumped back as droplets of slime flew off his antlers.  The demon smiled and began a slow advance, head lowered slightly, slime oozing and dripping. 

Buffy backed away and gestured behind her.  "Xander, plan B."

Xander stepped to the side to get a clean shot, raised the crossbow and leveled it at the approaching demon, who drew to a halt about four feet away from Buffy.

"Let's not be hasty.  I'll just finish my beer and leave the Hellmouth, okay?"

Buffy shook her head.  "Sorry, but if I let one demon come, spread chaos and just leave, I'd have to let them all do that, now wouldn't I? And this place would be all chaosy and my job just gets harder. Xander."

Xander pressed the release, and the bolt flew across the room, embedding itself in the demon's shoulder.  The demon howled, clutching the shaft of the blot. He screwed his face up in rage and strained his entire body and a sudden spray of slime shot from his antlers, pelting Buffy with shining droplets.  She stood still for one horrified moment before swiping one hand across her face and flicking the stuff from her fingers.

"Okay.  Ewww."  She looked down at her matted clothes then up at the demon with an irritated frown.  "You really shouldn't have done that."

She rushed the demon, pounding him with a swarm of hard punches, and he went down under the onslaught.  She straddled him, held him down with one hand at his throat and held the other in the air. She twisted to look at Xander and he tossed a deadly looking dagger into her waiting hand.  Bringing her hands together around the dagger, she plunged it into the demon's heart.  She rose to her feet and stood looking at the demon in distaste.

"I think that's one dagger I don't need back."  She pulled her sticky shirt away from her body, and a sudden thought made her turn to Xander.  "Did you get any slime on you?"

He looked down at himself, shaking his head.  "I don't think so."  He looked back at her, eyes wide.  "But you.  You're covered in it.  Eww...and that's a word I never thought I'd use in connection with you."

"I need to get home and take a shower.  And burn these clothes.  I knew I should have changed."

"I'll go with you."  At her skeptical look, he spread his hands defensively.  "Purely in a preventative capacity.  As soon as we get to your house, I'll call Willow and have her come over."

"Look, I don't feel any different.  Maybe it doesn't affect Slayers like it does other people."

"Still, we should keep an eye on you, just in case you start getting...happy."

"Cause who wants a happy Slayer, right?" she grumbled.

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah.  Fine.  Whatever.  Just as long as nobody gets between me and a shower."

                                                 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy threw her slimed clothes into the hall for Xander to dispose of, and jumped gratefully into the shower, where it took her three rounds of shampoo to get all the slime out of her hair.  She knew she would never complain about vampire dust again.  After slime, a little dust didn't seem quite so icky anymore. 

Somehow, thinking of vampires just naturally led to thinking of Spike.  As she let the water run over her body, she realized that she hadn't seen the vampire in several days.  Since she had come back from the dead, he had kept his distance, always there when she needed a little hand with the slayage, but never intruding on her personal life.  She knew Dawn still snuck out to see him, but she never said anything because she also knew her sister was completely safe with him.  It was a great burden off her mind to know that there was someone else who would fight to the death for Dawn.

She had to admit, if only to herself, that Spike was turning into the next best thing to a decent human being.  He was relatively dependable, especially when it came to being there for the violence and demon killing.  He had lost some of his caustic attitude, but not so much that he became boring.  She had on many occasions had to hide a smile at one of his gibes at Xander or Giles, and having the three of them together never failed to make for a lively evening, all slaying aside.

And, though he never actively hid his feelings for her, he also never pressured her for more.  But she knew his love was just there, waiting for her should she choose to take it.

Which...she wouldn't.  Because -  well, because... Hello, vampire boyfriend.  Been there, turned that evil. 

Besides, she hated Spike.  He was vicious and cruel and... so not like that lately. He was protective and caring of Dawn, even now, and though much of that seemed to be guilt-induced for what he perceived as his failure, she could tell he felt a genuine affection for her sister.  Willow seemed to have a little soft spot for Spike. Even Xander had grown to have a grudging liking for him, and though they would never in a million years give up their verbal sparring, the taunts were much less pointed than they had been. 

He was one of them now. 

As horrified as he would be to be called a Scooby, he had become an integral part of the gang.  It went without saying that he was strong, but he was also cunning and insightful, having an uncanny ability to get to the heart of matters.  She had come to rely on him, to trust his advice. 

To trust him.

With a start, she realized she was just standing there under the water, so she grabbed the soap and briskly began to wash, sternly telling herself to change the mental subject.

She ran a soapy hand up her arms, compiling a shopping list in her head, next making a list of housework she needed to complete, then deciding responsibility stuff was depressing, she let her mind wander. It just naturally drifted back to Spike, and she thought of the last time she'd seen him.  They had battled a Kreiken demon, and its claws had ripped through Spike's shirt, baring most of his chest.  For some reason, she couldn't remember how the fight had ended, but she had no problem visualizing exactly what his sleek, hard chest had looked like, with one small masculine nipple peeking through the torn black cloth.

She sighed dreamily.

The sound brought her back to the present, and she realized she was running her fingers in concentric circles around her own nipples, which had hardened into small, tight peaks.  She quickly turned into the water and rinsed, rushing through the rest of her shower.  She turned off the water and toweled off briskly, finding that she had to force herself to do it quickly and not linger on certain spots.

She wrapped the towel around her still-damp body and dried her hair, taking extra care, wanting to look as nice as possible for him  no, not for him, never for him, for - for people, because she would be seeing people and it was important that she look nice.  For people.  All people.  People of the world.

She finished with her hair  - the people should like it like that - and wandered into her bedroom.  Standing before her open closet, she glared at the clothes hanging there.  Nothing fit her mood tonight.  It seemed her wardrobe had become nothing but leather pants, and she wanted something...skirty.  She dug through the hangers until she came to something shoved in the farthest reaches of the closet.  She pulled it out to find the short sundress her mom had bought her before she died, telling her there might come a summer day when she was in the mood to be something other than a Slayer. 

"Thank you, Mom."

She let the towel drop and held the dress against her, deciding that it was perfect.  Perfect for what, she didn't let herself think about.  She put it on the bed and searched through her drawers until she found the skimpiest pair of silk panties she owned. She slipped them on and crossed to her vanity to find the perfume Willow had mixed up especially for her, using oils she'd learned about in her magic training.

"Guaranteed to turn a man on, " Willow had stated with a proud smile.  The smile had slipped.  "Not that I've tested it, because, you know, don't go there anymore, but everything I've read said it's the next best thing to an aphrodisiac."

To date, she had never used it.  Now was definitely the time.  She dabbed the stopper behind her ears and dipped it into the valley between her breasts, pausing to inhale the warm, musky fragrance.  She reached for her dress and pulled it over her head, adjusting the spaghetti straps as she turned to face the mirror.  She moved this way and that, enjoying the slight flutter of the skirt against her thighs.  She smiled in satisfaction, slipped into a pair of sandals, and headed for the door.

She was just reaching for the doorknob when she remembered Dawn.  She couldn't leave her to come home to an empty house.  She found the school's number and asked to speak to her sister, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited.

"Hey, Buffy.  What's up?" Dawn's chipper voice asked.

"I've got some Slayer stuff to do.  Can you spend the night with one of your friends?"

"Buffy, I'm almost fifteen years old.  I think I can spend one night by myself."

"I'd feel better if you stayed somewhere else."

"But - "

"Dawn," she said in her best "I'm the big sister and you have to do what I tell you" voice.

"Okay, okay, I'll ask Cindy.  Shouldn't be a big deal."

"Thanks.  Have fun."

"Yeah, you too."

She hung up the phone and walked into the hallway, halting when she saw Xander walk from the dining room to the kitchen, phone in hand.  Without thinking or questioning why she felt the need to avoid Xander, she stepped backwards into her room, tiptoed to her window, carefully raised it and crawled through.

                                        ~~~~~~~~~~

"Giles?  It's me."

"Xander, where are you?"

"We're at Buffy's house.  She got slimed."

"What? I expressly told you two to avoid the slime."

"Yeah, well, you left out the spraying antlers part."

"Xander  - "

"Anyway...she took a shower and Willow's on her way over.  If Buffy starts getting all party girlish, I think Willow's the only one who could control her.  And maybe Spike, but so not going there."

"And you?  Did you get any slime on you?"

"Clean as a whistle." 

Xander caught a movement out the window out of the corner of his eye.  He turned just in time to see Buffy drop from the roof and sprint away from the house. 

"Oh, no."

"Xander?"

"Oh.  Happy Slayer on the loose...gotta run.  She's heading west."

"What the bloody hell - "  His shout ended abruptly when he saw Buffy closing the door behind her, and he frowned in concern. "Buffy.  What's wrong?  Is Dawn all right?"

She stepped down into the crypt.  "Dawn's fine.  I just haven't seen you in a while, and that's when I start getting nervous, wondering what evil things you're up to."

"I was sleeping.  Last I heard, that wasn't a crime, but I'm sure you can find some way of..." 

His voice trailed off as he took in the way she was dressed and the slow, measured way she walked towards him.  He saw her eyes sweep down his body and back up, and as she drew nearer, her scent hit him.  She was wearing something sexy and sinful, something meant to lure the senses, but there was more. He could practically feel the pounding of her pulse, and he could smell her, underneath the fragrance, the hot, sweet, intoxicating smell of a highly aroused woman.

He was instantly hard.

"Buffy?"

She halted a few inches in front of him, and he could tell she was breathing heavier than normal. She raised one hand and he flinched, not sure what she was planning.  She ran one fingertip down the scar in his eyebrow.

"Has anyone ever told you that's very sexy?"

He stepped back, a puzzled frown on his face.  "Here now, what's going on?"

She moved closer. "Does something have to be going on?"

"Well...yeah!"  He backed away again, coming up against the sarcophagus.  "Is this some sort of test?"

She followed until there was nothing but a thin sliver of air between them. "A test for what, Spike?  To see if you want me?  I already know you do."

He leaned back, frowning down at her and trying to ignore the fact that he could tell she had no bra on under her dress. "Then what's the deal here?  Will been getting into the love spells again?"

She shook her head, and pressed into him, and he nearly groaned at the feel of her young, warm body against his.  "I haven't even seen Willow."

"So, let's talk to the little witch and see if she's been up to anything."

Buffy sighed, and Spike felt himself harden even more as her breath fanned across his neck.

"Does it even matter?  You want me, now you can have me." 

She shimmied slightly, and he felt the hard tips of her breasts move back and forth across his chest.  Strangling a gasp, he put both hands on her shoulders and held her away from him.

"Buffy, you're not yourself."

She jerked away from his restraining hands, her eyes narrowing slightly.  "Yes, I am.  I'm completely myself.  I'm sick of holding back, of denying what I feel.  I died, Spike, and now I want to live. I want to feel alive.  I want this.  I want you."

She put both hands up to his face and held him there as she brought her mouth to his, kissing him hungrily, opening her mouth to him. With a moan, he closed his eyes and returned the kiss, slipping his hands around her back to pull her closer to him, one hand sliding into her hair to hold her head firmly in place so that he could take her mouth, greedily consuming her, tasting her warmth. She whimpered and pressed herself even closer to him, and a low growl sounded in his throat. He wrenched his mouth from hers and pulled his head back, holding her away from him by her hair when she tried to kiss him again.

"Are you sure about this?  If you're going to turn away, do it now, Buffy."

She stared up at him, her breath coming short and quick.

"You want me to leave?" she asked, a challenge in her voice.

"No, but if this is not what you really want, I'd just as soon know now.  And if you do want this, I want you to remember it was your choice."

Her hands dropped to his shoulders and she pushed against him.  He resisted for the briefest of moments, but he clenched his jaw and allowed her to move away, a stark pain filling his eyes.  He turned away, resting his hands on the tomb behind him, his head dropping forward as he fought to resist the nearly overwhelming urge to just grab her and take her, consequences be damned.

Buffy stepped back, lifted her hand and slipped one strap of her dress off her shoulder, then did the same with the other strap.  A slight shake of her body, and the dress slid to the floor.  She kicked it aside, toeing off her sandals as well. She squared her shoulders.

"I'm sure."

"What?"  He whirled around to face her, and his eyes widened to see her standing there all but naked.  "Bloody hell, woman!"

A puzzled look came to her face.  "You know, I kind of thought this would be much easier."

His eyes ran the length of her body in a slow heated perusal, and his voice became a husky drawl.  "Oh, I'm easy, luv."  He licked his lips and his eyes returned to hers.  "I just don't want to be seeing the business end of a stake when all's said and done and you get to regretting what you're doing here."

"I won't regret it."

"You just remember you said that."

She raised her eyebrows.  "You want me to sign an affidavit?"  She opened her eyes innocently wide.  "I'm beginning to think you don't want to do this."

He advanced towards her, stopping within inches of her, close enough that he could feel the heat of her.  He smiled, a lazily wicked smile, and she gasped as his hands shot out, grasping her by the hips and pulling her snug against him, pressing her against the clear evidence of just how much he wanted to do this. 

"Think again," he said in a deep voice that tingled along her nerve endings. 

He lowered his head and trailed light kisses across her shoulder and to her neck, nibbling on the sensitive flesh there.

She closed her eyes, tilting her head to the side, baring her throat to him.  "I was afraid I'd have to resort to beating up on you to get you excited."

He raised his head and smiled with a flick of his eyebrows.  "Next time, luv."

She bit her lip to keep from laughing and dropped her forehead against his shoulder, shaking her head and groaning,  "Oh, God."

He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that made his chest vibrate against hers.  Without thinking, she turned her head, opened her mouth, and sank her teeth into his neck, a quick, hard bite. 

He hissed and stiffened, and lowering his head, he muttered into her ear, "Oh, it's biting now, are we?"

He opened his mouth against her neck and let his fangs descend, raking them lightly along the vein that pulsed there.  She placed both hands against his chest and with one great heave, she slammed him against a stone pillar and held him there stiff-armed. His fangs retracted as he grinned at her.

"Ah, now this is the Slayer I'm used to dealing with."  His eyes dropped to her bare breasts.  "Though I must say I approve of the new dress code."

She exerted a warning pressure.  "Just keep the pointy teeth to yourself, Spike."

He shrugged. "Sauce for the goose and all that."

In a sudden move, Spike knocked her arm away from him and grabbed her, lifting her and swinging her around the side of the pillar, shoving her high up against the hard stone.  Panting, she stared down at him, but his eyes were trained on the breasts heaving in front of him, and with a small sigh, his head came forward and he latched onto one pink nipple.  He sucked her into his mouth, drawing hard and deep, and she gasped in a mixture of surprise and pleasure.  But when she felt his teeth scrape against the sensitive flesh, she put her hands on his shoulders and thrust him away from her. 

As he stumbled back, she dropped to the floor and followed him, barreling into him and shoving him to the floor.  She stood over him, hands on her hips.

"I said no teeth."

Unrepentant, he laughed up at her. "It was just a nibble, luv."

He kicked one leg out, sweeping her feet out from under her, and she fell to the floor, the air rushing from her lungs with the impact. Before she could move, he was on her, pinning her down.  He gave her a chiding look.

"And I wasn't quite done with my nibble."

He swooped down and caught her nipple between his teeth, gently working his teeth back and forth in a way that had nothing of pain and everything of pleasure in it, making her take a sharp breath, but she wasn't prepared to let him have the upper hand yet. She worked one arm free and, curling her fingers into his hair, she yanked his head back and rolled them both over so that she ended up sitting on his stomach. He put his hands behind his head and smiled up at her like a big predatory cat who had some poor quivering mouse within his hungry grasp.

"So, you like to be on top, do you?  All right, that's fine by me, pet."

Deciding she didn't care for being the mouse in this scenario, Buffy made a motion to rise and he dropped the smile.  His hand flew out and gripped her behind the neck and with one firm tug, he jerked her down to him and fused their mouths together.  After one brief moment of resistance, she was kissing him back, running her hands over his chest and up to his face, holding him there while her tongue met and played with his.  Desperate to feel his flesh against hers, she frantically grabbed at his shirt, pulling it out of his jeans and pushing it up, and he let go of her to help, separating his mouth from hers only long enough to pass the shirt over his head and throw it aside.  Her mouth still clinging to his, she rubbed her chest against his, the unnatural coolness of him being replaced by the warmth of her, the heat of them.  She felt his hands settle on her hips, and he urged her lower, powerfully holding her against his pelvis, and she rocked against him there, rhythmically pushing herself into him.  She heard him moan, felt him lift his hips into hers, and she did it again, feeling powerful in a way that had nothing to do with Slayer strength.

All too soon, however, she realized that the power was not all hers.  The soft, whimpering sounds she heard were coming from her.  She was the one who broke his belt buckle in her haste to get it undone.  This blind, aching need she had for him, someone who until a few months ago had been her mortal enemy...suddenly it was too much. Too strong. Too intense.  With a sound that was almost a sob, she tore herself away from him, evading his clutching hands and scrambling to her feet. She backed away, leaving him momentarily stunned on the floor.  But one look at her shaking hands, her flushed cheeks and the almost frightened look in her eyes and he understood, the way he always knew how she felt -  even when she didn't.

He sat up without a word and began removing his boots, slowly, carefully, not looking at her.  That done, he rose to his feet and reached for the button on his jeans, watching his hands unfasten it, and pulled the zipper tab downward.  He did look at her then, gauging her reaction as he eased his jeans off his hips and pushed them down.  He noted that, though the anxious look didn't completely leave, she also didn't look like she was about to flee at any moment.  And her eyes seemed to be fascinated by the movements of his hands, widening as his erection was revealed, and he saw her take a long, deep breath. 

He stepped out of the jeans and walked towards her, feeling himself grow harder and fuller under her gaze. She backed away as he neared, and he made no sudden moves, just a steady, relentless pursuit of her until she came up against a wall and halted.  He put one hand on the wall to either side of her and, leaning down, placed a soft kiss on her cheek, and another, closer to her mouth.  Her hands came up and curled around his forearms, and she tilted her head to the side, closing her eyes and rubbing her cheek against him.  He nuzzled the corner of her mouth with his, and with a moaning sigh, she turned her head and kissed him fully, opening her mouth, inviting him in.  He pressed his lower body against her, letting her feel him, and then hummed with satisfaction as she pressed back, moving her body against him. She put her hands on his chest, this time not to push him away, but to touch him, feel him, learn him. 

He took one hand from the wall and slid it downward, from her shoulder to her breast with its tight little nipple, across the smooth skin of her belly and right into her panties.  Still wildly kissing him, she spread her legs for him, arching into his hand, and as he went past the curls covering her mound, he found her hot and wet and ready for him.  He massaged her with the heel of his hand and she ripped her mouth from his, gasping in a sharp breath of air. 

She gave a whimpering cry of protest when he removed his hand, but then she realized he was lowering her panties, and she moved her body, desperately trying to help him.  She lifted one leg to step out of the opening of one side of the panties, bringing her thigh up to rest on his hip, and they forgot about the panties all together as the tip of his erection brushed against her damp curls.  Spike lifted her other thigh to his hip and then reached between them, positioning himself at her opening, and with a slow, steady push, inch by inch, he slid into her until he couldn't go any further.

They both moaned.

He tried to wait, tried to give her time to adjust to the size of him, but the need to move grew too great and he pulled back, almost all the way out, until only the tip of his erection remained within her.  He sank deep again, letting out a groaning sigh as she clamped tight around him.  He put his face into the crook of her neck, sucking lightly on the taut muscle there.

"Oh, God, Buffy, you feel so good."

He tensed as she moved her hips in a circular motion then moved forward, grinding her hips against him.  He trembled when she squeezed him tight with her inner muscles.  But when he heard the pleasure-filled sigh fall from her lips, he lost what little control he had left and unleashed the longing he'd had for her for so long.  Bracing his hands against the wall, his hips began to plunge within hers, long, hard strokes that she met with equal fervor, crying out each time their bodies slammed together.  He felt her nails digging into his back, the slight pain only serving to make him move faster, harder, deeper until, with a soft wail, she suddenly stiffened, sharps gasps coming from her throat as she arched into him, squeezing her powerful legs around him in a bone-crushing grip.  He kept moving, faster and faster, drawing it out as long as he could until the strong spasms of pleasure within her sent him over the edge as well.

She went limp against him and his arms dropped swiftly around her to support her.  She rested her head against him, taking huge, gulping breaths of air, and he rained little kisses on her neck and shoulder, enjoying the little tremors running through her body, feeling her continue to pulse around him. She moved her hips experimentally against him and he heard the breath catch in her throat the moment she realized that he was still hard within her.

"Spike?"

"Yes?"  He smiled against her neck and licked the vein pulsing there.

"You're still..."

He flexed himself within her, grinning when she gasped.  "Yes, I am."

"But you...I mean, I felt you..."

"Come?"  She nodded and he moved slowly within her again.  "Oh, I did, luv.  But I'm just getting started."

"Oh, God," she said faintly. 

He lifted his head to look at her and laughed at the mixture of trepidation and intrigue on her face. 

"This was so not in any of the Slayer training manuals."

"Well, it's not something we spread around.  Fellows find out about this, they all want to be turned and what's the fun in that?"  He grinned when she rolled her eyes at him. "Hold tight, now."

Still nestled snugly within her, he gathered her close and started to carry her across the crypt to the tomb he slept on, but every step he took drove him deep within her, and she felt the hunger growing again. After only a few steps, she was clinging to him and rubbing her breasts against his chest, and when she began a rhythmic sucking on his neck, he took a detour and collapsed on a stone bench. 

Buffy leaned back and immediately took full advantage of her new position, getting her legs under her to slowly rise above him, drawing herself along his length, sighing at the exquisite feel of him.  Spike placed his hands on her hips, needing to touch her but letting her control the pace.  She leisurely sank back down, smiling as a swirl of her hips made him moan and arch up into her.  She lifted herself again, gripping him tightly in a hot, wet glide of soft flesh on hard.

"Buffy.  Oh, God, Buffy."

Pressing his back against the wall behind him, he strained up into her, his fingers digging into her hips.  She grabbed his hands and slid them up her body to her breasts, cupping his fingers around her, then closed her eyes and arched herself into his hands.  He massaged her breasts then took the nipples between his fingers and plucked, doing it again when he felt her clench around him. He leaned forward and took one nipple in his mouth, a satisfied hum reverberating in his chest when the move made her surge against him.  She began to move to the rhythm of his mouth, faster and faster, until with one hard push into him, she was crying out her pleasure, and with a groan, Spike followed her. 

Spike released her breast and pulled the suddenly boneless Slayer against his chest, running his hands in soothing strokes up and down her back while she tried to catch her breath, turning her cheek into his shoulder like some trusting child.  In a sudden move, she pushed away from him, scrambling off his lap to stand wide-eyed in front of him.  He spread his arms along the ledge behind him and grinned cockily at her, following her eyes to the erection that still stood hard and strong before them.

"Damn," she breathed.  "That thing never goes away."

"Why don't we see what can be done about it?"  He rose and took her hand, leading her towards his bed, and she followed in a docile daze.

"You're going to kill me.  That's it.  You always wanted to and now you're going to do it.  It's an evil plot."

"You came to me, remember?"

"Even eviler. Really evil because your chip won't even activate as you slowly kill me."

"I highly doubt you can die from an excess of pleasure."  He halted next to the tomb and turned to flash her a brilliant smile.  "But we can give it a go if you'd like."

As she groaned at the possibility, he swept her off her feet and deposited her on her back on the sarcophagus, and she propped herself on her elbows to see what he would do next. Her head followed him as he circled the tomb in an unhurried saunter, his eyes roving her, memorizing the look of her lying in his bed.  He came to the conclusion that she looked right at home there and that he was going to do his damnedest to make sure it became a regular event.  He climbed onto the tomb near her feet and made his way up in a slow, sensual crawl, and she let herself fall back against the pillow as he loomed above her.  He lowered himself to rest against her, nudging his way between her legs, and she allowed them to fall apart, closing her eyes as a pleasant lethargy began to take hold of her.

Spike rubbed himself between the Slayer's legs, sliding his erection along her wet, swollen flesh, hearing her sigh beneath him.  He dropped his head, kissing his way from her neck to her breasts, nuzzling her, playing with one nipple with his tongue, and he drew her into his mouth.  He sucked in tandem with the movements of his hips, slow, almost lazy.

Buffy yawned.

Spike released her nipple with an audible popping sound and raised his head to stare at her.  "Am I boring you?"

She shook her head.  "No, no, not boring.  Go on." 

He lowered his head, his hips beginning to move again, when the unmistakable sound of someone stifling a yawn filled the crypt.  With a disbelieving grunt, he jerked away from her.  She clapped a hand over her mouth and her eyes stared apologetically over it at him.

"I'm sorry.  I'm just suddenly so..."  She yawned again. "...sleepy."

With a defeated sigh, he slumped against her and rolled to the side, carrying her with him so she rested against him.  She snuggled up to him and he wrapped his arms around her.

"It's all right, go to sleep."  His pursed his lips.  "I'm sure it's been hard, tiring work resisting me all this time."

He waited, expecting to receive the normal rolling-eyed dismissal of that claim, but all he got was another sigh and snuggle, and looking down, he saw that she was already asleep.  He sighed himself, part of him glad that she finally trusted him enough to fall asleep with him, the other part - a part that grew smaller and smaller every day - horrified that the Big Bad had been reduced to little more than a pillow for the Slayer.

"This gets out, I'm never living it down."

With another great sigh, he closed his eyes, drew Buffy close, and went to sleep himself.