Xander met the others in the Magic Box, and judging by their expressions, he figured their search had been just as fruitless as his. He slumped onto one of the stools.

"Well, she wasn’t at the mall, she wasn’t at the Bronze, the only place I didn’t look was the library, but somehow I doubt that one."

Willow looked to Giles. "So, how long does the slimy last?"

Frowning, Giles glanced up from a Watcher’s journal. "I’m not entirely certain. The effects on a normal human only last a few hours at most, usually followed by a period of a deep, almost comatose sleep, but I have yet to find any cases of a Slayer’s having been …ah…slimed. This may be a first. Or, I may yet find something useful in here."

Willow hopped up. "Okay, while Giles looks in the journals, the rest of us need to keep looking for her. I’ll take the campus, maybe she’s gotten a hankerin’ for her old stomping grounds. Xander, Anya, start checking out the bars and clubs around town. Tara, can you go make sure Dawn is okay? I don’t want her to worry."

Tara nodded, and Xander rose to his feet with a sigh.

"You know, if we’re lucky, she’s just somewhere sleeping this off."

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

She was sleeping.

Still sleeping.

Spike had woken up quite a while ago, opening his eyes to a dark crypt, but immediately distracted by the unaccustomed feel of a living body draped across him. He had savored the sensation, basking in the heat, listening to her deep, even breathing, inhaling the warm smell of her. After a while, he had carefully removed himself, tenderly covered her with a blanket, and moved about the crypt lighting the candles, wanting to be able to see her as well as feel her, content for the moment just having her there. A little voice in his head wondered why she had come to him, afraid that this was not real, that when she awoke she would somehow take it all back, but he told that pesky, questioning voice to sod off and continued to enjoy having the woman he loved here with him.

For a while.

Eventually, he began to make "accidental" noises, knocking a book off a table, moving a chair, adjusting the lid of the next tomb with a huge grinding sound, but she slept through it all.

"Bloody hell, woman," he grumbled. "What kind of Slayer sleeps so deeply? An army of demons could have just marched through the door."

Deciding direct action was in order, he climbed back onto the tomb with her and stretched out next to her, one hand propping his head up, and slowly trailed the other hand down her side. She twitched and buried her head deeper into his pillow.

Spike smiled and put his lips near her ear. "Buffy. Rise and shine, luv."

He dropped light, lingering kisses along her neck, moving the blanket aside to get to her soft, sleep-warm skin. He pushed gently against her shoulder and she rolled to her back, and suddenly pert, young breasts were staring up at him. An eager growl sounded in his throat and he dipped his head and took one sweet nipple in his mouth.

Buffy slowly drifted awake from the best sleep she had had since she returned. She had been dreaming that she was lying in a bright, sunny field of flowers. She had felt alive and free, laughing as beautiful, multi-colored butterflies fluttered around her. One had come in close, flapping its silken wings against her ear, her neck, her shoulder. But then the butterfly had made a growling sound and settled on her breast, creating sensations no butterfly should be able to create.

She opened her eyes, and for the briefest moment, she had no idea where she was. But there was no mistaking the candle-lit crypt or the beached blonde head currently at her breast, or the lips that were doing such incredible things to her. Suddenly, the memory of all they had done came flooding back to her, along with the memory of the demon and the slime.

She closed her eyes with an internal sigh of relief, while a real, pleasure-induced sigh fell from her lips.

Spike raised his head, smiling a soft, sweet smile to see her awake. "Hello there. Sleep well?"

She nodded, shifting a bit on the hard stone. "Actually, for the first time sleeping on a tomb, I slept pretty well." Seeing one interested brow arch, she hastened to add, "Not that this is a first time, you know, like there’s going to be a second time or – or a third. So not the habit forming here."

His smile turned serious, and he lifted one hand to brush the hair back from her face. "Oh, this is one habit I wouldn’t mind forming at all," he murmured, his voice soft and deep.

Her eyes met his, and she opened her mouth but found that she absolutely could not think of a thing to say, so she snapped it shut. It opened again on a whisper of air when she felt his lips feather across her cheek and tease the corner of her mouth. She turned her head to meet his lips, and, God, it had been way too long since anyone other than Dawn had kissed her, way too long since she had felt the touch of someone who loved her and wanted her. This kiss was a gentle caress, and as Spike’s hand tenderly cradled her cheek, she forgot all her attempts at rationalizing her presence there and gave herself to the exquisite feel of him.

Spike’s mouth left hers, drifting across her cheek and down to her neck, his hand moving to curve around her upper arm. He slid one leg between hers, his foot rubbing against the back of her calf, and she wrapped her leg around his and arched against him, and Spike could feel the heat growing in her and the faint scent of her arousal came to him. With a low moan, he rolled on top of her, his hips sliding between her legs, and Buffy wrapped her arms around his shoulders to pull him close. He rocked his pelvis against hers, and suddenly she was feeling more than just how excited he was. She put her hands flat against his shoulders and pushed.

"I have to go."

His head jerked up, disbelief plain on his face. "What?"

"I have to go."

"Now?" He looked towards the darkened windows. "It’s late. Can’t you wait until morning?"

She shook her head. "No, really can’t wait."

"Not even for a tiny bit longer?" His eyes met hers, silently pleading, and then he leaned forward to press a coaxing kiss against her lips. "Please?"

"Can’t."

He tilted his head to the side, puzzled by her sudden change, but seeing the resolute expression on her face, he sighed and nodded.

"Right then. Time to go."

He rolled off of her and hopped off the tomb, sprawling into his chair with as nonchalant an air as he could manage with his gut twisting inside him.

Buffy sat up, clutching the blanket against her chest.

"Spike…"

"No need for platitudes, pet. Figured you’d be leaving right quick once you woke up."

She sighed. "Spike, remember back when you were a living person? A functioning living person?

He stared blankly at her.

She waved her hand in a meaningful circle. "With certain bodily functions?"

Comprehension dawned, along with an overwhelming relief. "Oh, that."

"Yes, that. And last I heard, crypts don’t come equipped with bathrooms, hence, me, having to go."

"Well, then, that’s not a problem. We can go to the cemetery manager’s house."

"I am so not barging into someone’s house just to pee."

He grinned at the horror on her face. "He won’t be there. The man is too frightened to stay there overnight."

She threw him a pointed look and he widened his eyes, all innocence.

"We have an arrangement. He lets me use his shower and his laundry facilities and I don’t eat him. Everybody’s happy." When she continued to stare skeptically at him, he shrugged and admitted. "He doesn’t know I can’t hurt him. You’d be amazed at what flashing a fang or two will get you."

"I’ll bet." She slid off the tomb, wrapping the blanket around herself. "Okay, let’s go."

They dressed and headed for the cemetery manager’s house, which was situated near the west entrance. Walking side by side, Buffy could feel Spike sneaking sidelong looks at her, and finally he reached down and took her hand in his, lacing his fingers through hers. She looked down at their joined hands, finding the sensation not at all unpleasant and somehow familiar. It wasn’t the memory of holding hands with Riley, because his hand had been big and warm. Angel’s had been cool …no, not going there.

It tickled at her brain until it finally clicked. Last year, when Willow had cast the spell on them and they had been in lo – um, wanting to get married, everywhere they went, he had held her hand.

He was a hand-holder.

The Big Bad Evil Vampire likes to hold hands.

God, that was…cute. And sweet. And so not how she was used to thinking of Spike. He was brash, and violent and… and obnoxious. Sweet and Spike did not a good couple make. Nope, that Chaos slime was making her all loopy and crazy and she would never think of him as - as -

Spike had been watching the play of expressions over her face. "What?"

She started. "What? Oh. Nothing. Just thinking. Thoughts. Nothing thoughts. Thoughts that mean nothing."

His mouth opened, but before he could speak, they heard a shrill scream coming from outside the cemetery. Buffy looked longingly in the direction the cemetery manager’s house then sighed in resignation.

"Duty calls."

Another terrified shriek sounded and they started running. Deciding to take the quickest route, Buffy ran straight for the wall lining this side of the cemetery. She halted next to the wall and without being told, Spike cupped his hands to give her a boost. She put one foot in his hands and he tossed her upwards. She flew up, flipped over the wall, and landed in front of a crouching, terrified girl. Hearing a growl behind her, Buffy motioned to the girl.

"Go. Now."

The girl gave a sobbing cry of relief and ran in the opposite direction. Buffy swirled to face a large, nasty-looking demon who was not pleased to see his evening meal escaping. He snarled angrily, and saliva flew from his snout.

Buffy grimaced in distaste. "You know, I’m not exactly thrilled to see you either. And, kinda in a hurry here, so can we get this over with?"

As she advanced, she saw Spike drop to the ground behind the demon, and when the vampire grabbed him by the arms to hold him, she let loose with a flurry of punches to the head. With a roar of pain and rage, the demon twisted his body with a strong jerk, flipping Spike off of him, and the vampire rolled several feet, slamming into the wall with a grunt.

The demon launched himself at Buffy, snarling and oozing, and they both went down. He growled above her, snapping at her with a multitude of large, blunt teeth, rivulets of slime dripping onto her dress. Buffy struggled beneath him, trying to get a good enough grip on him to throw him off, turning her head aside to avoid his teeth. She flinched when some of the demon’s drool dribbled onto her neck.

"Okay, " she ground out through gritted teeth. "When did this become Slime Buffy Day?"

She finally managed to get one hand up to the beast’s throat when it was abruptly plucked off of her, one claw ripping a long tear through the side of her dress, and Buffy watched as Spike smashed the demon into the wall headfirst. It lay on the ground, momentarily stunned, but with a shake of its head and one last growl for them, it went limping away. Buffy scrambled to her feet, prepared to follow it and finish it off, but Spike stopped her with one hand on her arm.

"Wait."

"Spike, I have to kill it."

"Some other time. Right now, we have to get that monster’s spittle washed off of you."

She pulled away. "It can wait. I’ve had worse." She wrinkled her nose. "Believe me, I’ve had worse."

"It can’t wait, Buffy. That particular demon likes its food…soft. Its saliva is made to digest the food before it eats it."

"And a great big eww for that."

"Where did it get you?"

She looked down mournfully. "He ruined my dress."

"Forget the bloody dress. Is any on your skin?"

"There’s some on my neck. My hands. A little on my legs. And, ugh, I think it’s dripping down my back."

Spike grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the cemetery. "Come on. Wherever it touched you will start to burn soon."

"Have I mentioned how much I’m not liking slime demons?"

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

Spike led her to the two-story house, retrieving a key from a loose brick in the wall to unlock the door. He showed her to a small half-bath, leaving her there while he went upstairs to the master bath to find her a cloth and towel to clean with. Buffy, realizing exactly how long it had been since she had used the bathroom, finished quickly and with great relief. Since Spike hadn’t returned when she came out, she went up the stairs, following the sound of running water through a large bedroom and into the bathroom, her eyes immediately zooming in on the pile of black clothes on the floor.

"Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing?"

"I thought it would be better for you to take a shower, make sure you’ve gotten it all off."

"Okay. And why are you in the shower?"

He poked a wet head around the edge of the shower curtain. "I thought you might need a bit of help, to scrub your back or…other parts." He flicked his eyebrows for emphasis, as though she didn’t know exactly which parts he might scrub.

"You know, I’ve been taking showers all by myself for years now."

"And that’s a very sad thing, too. But, can’t change the past, luv." He grinned as she shook her head and rolled her eyes, but all humor fled when he saw her rub her neck. He jerked his head towards the shower. "Come on. Get in." And he disappeared back into the shower.

Feeling the skin of her neck start to irritate, Buffy quickly shed her clothes and stepped into the shower. Though she half expected Spike to make some comment or leer at her nudity, she was surprised and oddly touched to find him all business. He already had a cloth soaped up, and he pulled her under the water, concentrating on washing the spots that were starting to turn pink, rinsing and repeating the procedure to make sure the saliva was all gone. He lightly touched the reddest blotch on her neck, concerned.

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No, not really. It just feels sort of sunburned."

"Poor baby." He lowered his head to brush a kiss across the mark. "Better?"

Nodding, Buffy closed her eyes, and Spike proceeded to kiss every red spot, moving behind her to get to the ones on her back. Buffy, standing within the hot spray of water, shivered as his lips moved across her back. He took the soap and rubbed it within his hands then slowly slid his hands in circles on her back until a rich, thick lather covered her. He swept his hands down her arms and back up before kneeling behind her to get to her legs, taking great care to make sure no part of her skin went untouched. He leaned in and plopped a kiss on each cheek of her ass before soaping it up too. He rose and reached above her to adjust the shower nozzle so it ran down her back, washing the suds away.

He soaped his hands again and slid them under her arms to her front, cupping her breasts in his slippery fingers. He rubbed the soap around, and Buffy allowed her head fall back against his shoulder, content to let him play while the water beat down on the two of them. He moved closer to her, and she could feel his erection pressing into her back.

His hands slid down her stomach in random swirls, and one crept down to spread soap bubbles between her legs. She widened her stance, spreading her legs to give him complete access, and smiled without opening her eyes.

"Spike, I really don’t think any of made it down there."

He nibbled lightly on her shoulder, his hand continuing to rub gently. "Just being thorough, pet."

"Uh-huh."

"Can’t be too careful."

He let some water in, rinsing away most of the lather, finding that the way was still smooth and slick, only now it was from her, not the soap. He heard the pace of her breathing increase, and her hips began to move with his hand, pushing into it. He sucked gently on the curve of her shoulder just as his middle finger slowly slid inside her. Her breath hitched in her throat, and he pulled back out, tracing the opening of her body before gliding back in. Back out, and he added another finger, in and out, sucking on her neck in time to the movements of his fingers, growling softly at the incredible hot, wet feel of her.

Buffy took several shaky, shuddery breaths, amazed that she had become this aroused, this quickly. That Chaos slime really put the whammy on me was the last semi-rational thought she had before he changed the angle of his hand so that the knuckle of his thumb pressed against her clitoris with each inward thrust of his fingers and all thought just floated away.

Spike heard her suck in a sharp gasp, and he took her weight as her legs went weak, never stopping the in and out of his fingers, gradually moving faster and faster. He could feel the blood rushing hot and hard through her body, could sense the tension as she wound tighter and tighter, reaching for the ultimate pleasure. He moved his lips up to her ear and spoke in a deep, gruff voice.

"Buffy. Come for me, luv."

With a sudden cry, she did, clamping tight around his fingers, her body shaking with the strength of her release. Spike maintained the movements of his fingers and the pressure until he felt her go limp against him. He eased his fingers out of her but continued to stroke the area gently, kissing her neck and shoulder as he waited for her to catch her breath. She released a long breath and made a move to step away from him.

He clutched her close. "Don’t go."

She turned her head to look back at him. "I’m getting all wrinkly and – "

Her words cut off when he claimed her mouth with his in a long, drugging kiss. She raised one of her arms and gripped the back of his head, holding him close, and he used the hand on her stomach to press her back against him, rubbing her against his erection. Still kissing him, her tongue dancing with his, she reached behind her back, moving her hand between them until she found him. Spike groaned deep in his throat as her hand closed firmly around him. She squeezed him once and let go, and Spike pulled his mouth from hers with a sound that approached a whimper.

"No, God, please don’t stop."

"I’m not."

She turned to face him, solemnly meeting his anxious eyes as she reached for the soap, swirled it around in her hand a couple of times, and put it back. She pulled him back to kiss her and took him in her now soapy hand, sliding slowly up and down his erection, feeling it surge in her palm. She ran her thumb up the sensitive underside and around the tip, gauging his pleasure by the sounds he made in his throat. She slid her hand back down and squeezed the base, and Spike moaned and broke the kiss, leaning back against the shower wall for support.

Buffy brought her hand up, and down, watching his face, seeing him grimace with pleasure, experiencing an odd little thrill at the effect she was having on him, making someone who didn’t have to breathe pant with need. She increased the speed of her hand, adding a little twist of her wrist, doing it again when he gasped and pushed his hips into her hand. She leaned forward, planting kisses along his neck and across his chest, moving down to find his nipple, giving it a tiny lick when she did. He jerked.

"Oh, God, " he rasped.

Never stopping her hand, she licked him again, and this time the sound he made was definitely a whimper, and she felt his hands come up and dive into her wet hair, holding her head against his chest. She opened her mouth around his nipple and sucked, and sucked again when she felt him twitch in her hand. With every pull of her mouth, she pulled with her hand, faster and faster, until with a hoarse groan, Spike stiffened and bucked with his release.

He relaxed against the wall, letting his head fall back and closing his eyes while he recovered, his arms dropping to hold her loosely against him. Buffy leaned against him, languorously rubbing his chest with one hand and nuzzling her face into his neck. She snuck a little peek downward and smiled in satisfaction to see that she’d finally managed to make Little Spike take a break.

The water began to run a bit cooler and she shivered. "I think we’re running out of hot water here."

He reluctantly let her go, and they stepped out of the shower. He handed her a towel, wrapping one around his hips. She bent over slightly and ruffled the towel over her hair, trying to get the majority of the water out. She straightened quickly when she felt Spike step behind her and press himself against her back, and she ruefully noticed that Little Spike had apparently gained his second wind.

"My God, don’t you ever get enough?"

"Of you? Not bloody likely."

He grasped her by her hips and twirled her around to face him, pulling her towards him and kissing her hungrily. She was just wrapping her arms around his neck, all objections drained away, when a loud, rumbling gurgle filled the room. Spike moved back, looking at her with raised eyebrows. She shrugged rather sheepishly.

"I haven’t eaten all day."

"Well, can’t have that. Let’s get you something to eat." Eyes sparkling beneath flickering brows, he curled his tongue behind his teeth to suppress a grin. "Have to keep your strength up."

Giving him an exasperated look, she looked around for her dress, bending to gingerly pick it up. She held it between her thumb and forefinger, disgust wrinkling her nose.

"I can’t wear this."

"We can throw it in the wash if you’d like. Maybe order us up some food while we wait."

"Sounds good, especially the food part."

She wrapped her towel around her body and rolled her dress and panties in another one, being careful not to touch the sticky parts.

She looked up to find Spike watching her.

"What?"

His only response was a slow, suggestive smile and his eyes made a journey down her body that was so intense she could almost feel it.

"Food," she said sternly.

"It’s going to take a while to get here."

"Well, then, actually ordering it would be a good thing." He made a face and turned to follow her orders. "And put some clothes on."

He flashed a wicked smile her way. "Distracting you, am I?"

"Go." She pointed towards the door. "Wait."

He halted, looking hopefully over his shoulder.

"Is there a robe or something I can wear?"

"No need to bother on my account."

She stared at him, raising her brows. He grinned and sighed dramatically.

"Didn’t think so." He juggled the boots and clothes and handed her his T-shirt. "Here, you can wear this. "

"Thank you."

She took the shirt and pulled it over her head, not sure how she felt about wearing it. Somehow, wearing his clothes, something he had just been wearing, that smelled like him…it just felt too intimate, too personal. Which was really strange after the things they’d done, but there it was.

She realized he was still standing in the doorway and she looked up to see him smiling at her, not the lascivious smiles of before, but a warm, happy smile. She had seen similar, more brotherly looks directed Dawn’s way, but he’d been very careful not to show too much affection with Buffy. Before now. Before she gave him reason to think he could.

She looked back down without returning the smile, fiddling with the bundle in her hands, and she missed how his expression changed, the happiness fading, fleetingly replaced by pain and a stark loneliness before Spike carefully schooled his expression to a bland friendliness.

"Right then. Food. Any preference as to what kind?"

"Anything, as long as it’s edible and it gets here quick."

Spike directed Buffy into the utility room and left her there to deal with her clothes while he went to order her food. She found a pair of rubber gloves and stood at the sink scrubbing at her dress, trying to get the worst of the mess out, but mostly she feared she was just spreading it around, and apparently, rayon was no match for demon drool. But, she tossed the dress and her panties into the washer anyway and hoped for the best.

She closed the lid and leaned against the washer, her head bowed.

She lifted her head, taking a deep breath. She was a grown woman. If she wanted to sleep with every vamp from here to Timbuktu, she would. It was her business. Besides, once this chaos slime wore off, she’d be back to normal and could go back to treating Spike like the soulless vampire he was.

The only thing was…she was feeling guilty about leading the soulless vampire on.

How crazy was that?

He loved her. She didn’t doubt that. Something about him made it possible to love, and he would die for her. Or Dawn. She wouldn’t be surprised if he’d do the same for the rest of the Scoobies, Xander included.

But that didn’t change what he was.

Or what she was.

She should just leave, before things got any more complicated than they already were.

"But, no clothes," she said aloud. "You’re clothesless. You could go out there and have to fight some horrible demon and … embarrassing and… why are you talking to yourself, Buffy?"

"Good question."

Her eyes flew to the doorway to see an amused Spike leaning there.

"I – I – " she sputtered.

He waved off her attempted explanation. "No need. I do it all the time. But then, I do so love to hear myself talk."

"Yeah, big newsflash there," she murmured.

His eyebrows rose slightly, but he let that one pass. "I ordered Chinese food. They won’t come in the cemetery at night, so I need to go wait by the entrance."

His eyes dropped, admiring the way she looked standing there dressed only in his shirt, and Buffy’s eyes followed his hand as he sensuously rubbed his naked belly, the tips of his fingers almost touching his fly where the button was still unfastened.

"But, I have a few minutes to spare…"

Wrenching her eyes away, she tugged on the bottom of the shirt, acutely aware of her lack of underwear. "You don’t want to keep the delivery guy waiting. That – that demon could come back."

He strolled forward until he was standing within inches of her. "Can’t have that, can we?"

She stepped back.

He followed.

She backed into the washer. Unable to retreat any further, she smacked one hand in the center of his chest to hold him back, and had to consciously force her hand to be still and not wander over those smooth, hard muscles.

"Spike. Delivery guy."

"Plenty of time, luv."

He leaned forward, lowering his head to nuzzle her neck. The hand against his chest relaxed, and he moved forward another couple of inches, resting his hands on the washer behind her. He brushed his cheek against hers, and goose bumps rose on her skin. As his mouth traveled closer to hers, her eyes drifted shut, anticipating the feel of his mouth against hers, forgetting all about food or clothes or leaving. His mouth hovered a fraction of an inch away from hers, and he felt a slight puff of air as her lips parted on a sigh.

He waited.

A small crinkle appeared between her eyes when the expected kiss didn’t come. She leaned back, opening puzzled eyes. He swept one searing gaze down her body and up, taking in the rapid pulse throbbing in her neck, her quickened breathing, and the hardened nipples making little points in his shirt. He smiled, a deliberate, slightly mischievous smile, and stepped back.

"Don’t want your food to get cold."

Her mouth dropped open even further as she watched him turn and saunter away. As he left the utility room, she closed her mouth with a snap and slumped against the washer, wondering how it was possible that a little bit of slime had turned her into such a ho-bag. A great, big, horny, gotta-have-it-right-now ho-bag.

And it didn’t bear thinking about why the "it" she had to have was Spike.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oh!" Buffy gasped.

"No, that’s good, luv, just like that."

"Like that?"

"Yeah, yeah, nice and easy like."

"Oh…oh…oh!"

"Keep going, luv, keep going."

"Oh…damn!"

Buffy frowned fiercely when the chicken she was trying to eat slid out of her chopsticks and plopped back into its little white box. She poked at her food, trying to pick something – anything - up, but everything she managed to grab slipped through the ends of the sticks. She finally speared a piece of meat with one of the chopsticks and held it up triumphantly.

Spike laughed. "It’s chicken, luv, not a nasty vampire."

Leaning forward with her mouth open, she tried to bite it, but it fell back into the plate an inch before it reached her mouth. She groaned in frustration. "I can’t help it. Little wooden sticks are meant for stabbing, not grabbing."

"Here." He reached over, expertly scooped up a piece of chicken with his chopsticks and held it in front of her mouth. "Open up."

She opened her mouth and he slid the tender, succulent piece of chicken in. She closed her eyes in rapture, chewing slowly, savoring the wonderful flavor. She moaned with delight and opened her eyes in search of more, finding that Spike already had a broccoli floret waiting for her. He continued to feed her, taking a bite or two himself in between. He had gotten an assortment of dishes, not really sure what she liked, and Buffy had practically pounced on the fragrant food when he came in, dragging him to the breakfast bar in the kitchen and diving into the food.

Her hunger momentarily sated, Buffy stared curiously at Spike as he sampled the different meats and vegetables before him.

"Why do you eat?" He looked at her, puzzled by the question. "I mean, you don’t have to. You don’t need it to live."

"Well, I don’t need sex to live either, but I didn’t give that up when I died, did I?" he said with a pointed grin.

"Seriously."

"I am serious. Eating is a very sensual experience." He held up a piece of carrot. "Look at that. Visually, it’s bright, vibrant." He held it to his nose. "The scents, spices, flavorings." He put it in his mouth and chewed slowly, closing his eyes as he swallowed. "And then there’s taste, the crunch, the way your mouth comes alive, flooding your senses with the essence of the food, the tang of its juices on your tongue, the…"

"Okay! Got it. You like to eat." Get a grip, Buffy. He was talking about food, for God’s sake.

"Yes, I do." His eyes sparkled and his voice lowered. "Always on the lookout for something new to…taste."

Okay, it wasn’t just her, because he was so not talking about food this time. He popped a mushroom in her mouth when it fell open and grinned impishly at her. Deciding he needed a distraction, she wracked her brain for something else to talk about. Her eyes fell on the fortune cookies he’d set aside.

"Okay, let me see my fortune. Maybe I’m destined to be rich and famous."

He reached over with his chopsticks, picked up one cookie and with a flick of his wrist, lobbed it right into her hand. Deciding if he could do it, so could she, Buffy dropped the cookie, picked up her sticks and tried to lift the cookie, only to wrinkle her nose in dismay when it crumbled into bits under the pressure she used.

"Give me a fork and spoon any day."

"It takes a light touch, pet. You’ll find chopsticks are really quite versatile once you learn to use them."

He used his sticks to pick up the other cookie, holding it up and turning it this way and that. With a swish, he tossed the cookie into the air and caught it on its way down, and not so much as a crumb fell off. With a quick snap, he neatly cut it in two and extracted the fortune, all without ever touching it with his fingers.

Amazed, Buffy shook her head. "You have way too much time on your hands."

He shrugged. "You live 120 years, you get bored every now and then."

He let the fortune flutter to the table, picked up a piece of the cookie with the chopsticks and carried it to her mouth. Swiveling on his stool to face her, he trailed the tips of the sticks lightly down her chin and neck, teasing the hollow of her throat.

"You find an everyday item and you experiment, seeing what new ways you can play with that item."

The sticks ran lazily across her collarbone, and she found herself mesmerized by the deep timber of his voice as she slowly chewed the cookie.

"You ask yourself, I wonder what this would feel like here?"

He ran the ends in soft circles around her breast, rubbing the T-shirt against her suddenly painfully erect nipple. She swallowed, hard.

"You tell yourself, I bet this would feel good."

She inhaled sharply when he tweaked her nipple with the blunt chopsticks.

"And, then you think, well, if that felt so good, then this would feel even better."

She watched wide-eyed as the sticks slid down her stomach and to her thighs, tracing a path to her tightly closed knees. He wiggled the sticks and she allowed her legs to fall open just enough to let them in, and he moved them forward, reaching the bottom of his shirt. He slipped the tips under the shirt and slowly inched it upwards. The curls at the juncture of her thighs were just starting to peek out when a loud buzzer sounded from the utility room.

They both jumped.

"Bloody hell!"

Buffy hopped off the stool and backed away. "I …I should go put my dress in to dry."

She turned and escaped into the utility room, closing the door behind her and leaning against it, trying to slow her ragged breathing.

And scarily enough, part of her – a part she was mentally slapping upside the head - was dying to find out what he would have done with those chopsticks.

~~~~~~~~~~

Twirling the chopsticks idly in his nimble fingers, Spike waited for Buffy to return from the utility room. He smiled when he thought of her scampering away like a frightened rabbit.

If truth be told, he had never used chopsticks for any sort of erotic play, but everything seemed to take on a sensual appeal when he was with the Slayer. And he had every intention of thoroughly exploring the infinite possibilities with her.

If she’d ever come out of the bleeding laundry room.

After five minutes had passed, he frowned, dumped the sticks onto the bar, and rose. He opened the door and leaned against the doorjamb. She stood, staring at her dress, which she had spread over the top of the washer, and he immediately sensed a quiet sadness coming from her.

"Buffy?"

She smoothed the dress with the flat of her hand. "It's ruined."

"You can't mend it?"

She shook her head and held the dress up, and he could see that in addition to the tear where the demon's claws had ripped through the side, there were several large holes where the fabric appeared to have been melted away. It was unwearable, but he sensed there was more going on here than just the loss of a pretty bit of clothing.

"Better the dress than you."

"My mom gave me this dress," she said quietly. "It was one of the last things...before..."

"Ah."

She traced one of the holes in the dress with her finger. "All she wanted was for me to have a normal life."

"All she wanted was for you to be happy." In an effort to lighten the moment, he added, "I'm sure she's somewhere smiling right now, seeing you've finally gotten the sense to come be with me. She liked me, you know."

"Somehow, I don't see her sticking you in the 'normal' category."

"But I'd wager you've had some very happy moments in the last few hours."

Seeing his cocky smile out of the corner of her eye, she nodded, pursing her lips as she took her panties out of the washing machine. "Yeah, you’re right."

Surprised, he arched his brows, and his smile grew bolder. She turned to give him a wide-eyed look.

"Eating Chinese food always gives me a happy."

He laughed and stepped to the side, sweeping an arm towards the kitchen.

"Well, then, your happy awaits."

Suppressing a grin, she tossed the panties into the drier, switched it on and sailed past him with her nose in the air. She hopped onto her stool, picked up her chopsticks and carefully tried to lift a bite to her mouth.

"Eat up, luv."

He came to stand behind her and lowered his head to speak softly into her ear.

"And then I'll see about giving you some non-food related happies. Although…" He fluttered his lips against her neck. "Eating may be involved."

Buffy’s fingers clenched, and with a sharp crack, the chopsticks snapped in two, the piece of meat they’d been holding skittering across the bar. Spike sat on his own stool with a satisfied smile.

"You’re not eating, pet," he chided.

She gave herself a little shake, desperately hoping he wouldn’t notice the flush creeping up her neck. Yeah, a vampire not noticing blood surging, that might happen.

"Sooo…" Her eyes lit on the crumpled fortunes. She snatched hers up. " ‘Your wisdom has kept you far from danger.’ Ha! Slayer issues aside, do they realize everyone here is living on a Hellmouth? What does yours say?"

Spike looked up from reading his. "They're obviously meaningless." He tossed it on the table. "Are you finished yet?"

"No." She gave him a curious look and picked up his fortune. " ‘Do not mistake temptation for opportunity.’ " Her lips twitched. "Now that's sound advice."

"Rubbish." He handed her his chopsticks. "Food. Eat."

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

Xander entered the Magic Box and met the worried eyes of his friends. "No luck?"

Willow shook her head. "Nothing. She called Dawn earlier, but no one's heard a thing since then."

"I went by Spike's, but he wasn't there either." A strange look crossed Xander's face. "You don't think..." He shook his head and waved that ridiculous idea off. "No, not happening, so not thinking that."

Tara and Willow exchanged a look, but neither spoke. Xander looked from one to the other.

"What?"

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

They finished eating and Buffy insisted they clean up their mess. She retrieved her panties from the drier, slipped them on under the T-shirt, and looked down at her bare legs.

"Not exactly an abundance of clothes happening here."

He grabbed his duster and held it out to her. "You can wear this."

She took it, looking doubtfully at him wearing just his jeans. "What about you?"

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter."

"Here, you can put this back on."

She started to take his shirt off, saw the pleased smile that crossed his face and turned her back to draw the tee over her head. Spike’s grinned and enjoyed the view from this angle until she shrugged into the leather coat and handed him his shirt.

He slipped it over his head, still grinning. "Afraid you won't be able to keep your hands off of me, are you?"

"No, the moon's out tonight. I'm afraid I'll be blinded by all that white skin."

"Ah, then it's your eyes you won't be able to keep off of me."

She let out an exasperated huff of breath. "Conceited, much?"

"Is it conceited to speak the truth?"

"Oh, God." She grabbed the remains of her dress and headed for the door. "Come on, Truth Boy."

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

It turned out it was Spike who couldn’t keep his hands off Buffy as they walked back to the crypt. He started out just taking her hand again, sliding the sleeve of his coat up to find it, but soon he was trying to get a look under his coat, the knowledge that she wore nothing but a little scrap of silk and lace driving him nuts.

Buffy slapped at the hand trying to open the coat. "Stop it."

"Come on, luv." He ran one finger along the neckline of the coat. "It’s not like I haven’t seen it all already."

She swatted the finger and grasped the neckline in her hand, holding it closed even more. "Then you don’t need to see it now, in the middle of a public cemetery."

He looked around. "Don’t see a lot of people hanging about, pet."

He swung her around, pulling her against him with one arm around her waist. He covered her mouth with his to stop the protest he knew was coming, kissing her until he felt her body relax in his arms. He slowly separated his lips from hers.

"Just a little peek now," he whispered.

Her eyes, only half-open, watched him as he parted the sides of the coat, baring her to the cool night and his hot eyes. Her nipples tightened, whether from the temperature or from the look in his eyes, she couldn’t have said. Spike, looking at her warm flesh, moaned and lowered his head to get a taste.

"Well, lookee here, boys."

Spike’s head lifted. He jerked the coat closed and gave a long-suffering sigh before turning to face the three large vampires standing behind him. He judged the leader to be the one who was the largest, not to mention the smelliest.

"Evening, fellows. Just passing through?"

Smelly grinned. "No, sir. We’re thinking we’ll stay."

Buffy stepped around Spike. "I’m thinking that was the wrong answer."

"Oh, look, boys, a Vampire Slayer. Though it looks like she’s more of a Vampire Layer." Smelly nudged the other two with his elbows and laughed heartily at his own lame joke. "I’ve never fucked a Slayer before. I bet she’s one hot piece of ass."

Before Buffy could get her mouth open to verbally slay the idiot, Spike was at the vamp’s throat. "Watch your mouth. And apologize to the lady."

"That’s no lady, that’s – " Smelly’s voice choked off as Spike’s grip tightened. The other two vamps, obviously a tad wiser than their leader, stayed clear. "What’s the deal, man? You’re a vampire, too."

"Yes, very astute of you. And I’m becoming a very impatient one at that. Apologize."

"I’m not apologizing to no bitch Slayer slut – " His eyes widened in surprise right before he disintegrated into dust.

Spike frowned in irritation at Buffy, who was standing holding a stake that he recognized as being one of the ones he carried in his coat.

"What the bloody hell did you do that for? The bastard never apologized!"

"Yeah, and I’m going to lie awake nights worried about it too."

She whirled and slammed the stake into the heart of the vamp who was stupid enough to try to creep up on her. Without pausing, she withdrew the stake and hurled it towards the other vamp who had a bit of brain and was trying to escape, wiping her hands in satisfaction when he ended as a pile of dust as well. She looked at Spike, who was staring grumpily at Smelly’s dust pile. She tugged on his arm.

"Come on."

Buffy stole looks at his annoyed face as they walked until finally she chuckled and shook her head. Spike frowned at her.

"What’s so bleeding funny?"

"You are. Do you realize you’ve said things to me that are a hell of a lot nastier than that vamp ever thought of saying?"

He winced. "That was before."

"I’m just saying, it’s funny to see you being all ‘Watch your mouth’," she said, the last part in a bad imitation of his accent.

He arched a brow at her. "Funny, is it?"

She nodded. She frowned ferociously and deepened her voice. " ‘Apologize to the lady.’ " The accent was even worse this time as she tried to talk around a giggle.

"I do not and have not ever sounded like that."

She laughed even more at the indignant tone in his voice. Warned by the look in his eyes, she danced to the right as he lunged at her, and she took off running. She ran as fast as she could, a huge smile plastered on her face, feeling a light-heartedness she hadn’t felt since…well, probably since she had found out she was the Slayer. It felt so good, and free, and suddenly some mischievous imp took over her. She stopped running at the door of the crypt and turned to face Spike, who was not far behind. She grasped the edges of his coat in her hands and threw her arms wide, posing in the doorway, framed by black leather in the soft moonlight.

Arrested by the sight, Spike stopped running and drank in the view. "My God, you’re beautiful."

Her laughter faded at the intensity of his gaze, but she kept the coat open, letting him look his fill, feeling a tingling warmth spread throughout her body.

He walked slowly forward and when he reached her, he slid his hands around her waist. He pulled her body against his, so tightly that any other woman would have been crushed, but Buffy just made a small sound in her throat and tried to get closer, letting the coat go to put her arms around his neck. He slid one arm lower, lifting her up, and Buffy, burying her face in his neck, wrapped her legs around his hips as he carried her inside the crypt. He set her on the edge of the tomb and stood between her legs, turning his head to search for her mouth, finding it and taking it with his in a fierce kiss.

He slid the coat off of her and his hands roamed her naked back, and he reveled in the freedom he had to hold and touch this woman he had wanted for so long. One hand slid around to the front and slowly came up to cup her breast, and Buffy gasped against his mouth at the contact. Spike pulled back, and together they watched as his hand gently squeezed her breast and his black-nailed thumb rasped softly over the nipple. Smiling when he saw it harden, he dipped his head and kissed the upper curve of her breast. He trailed a series of kisses across the soft skin, one after another, spiraling closer and closer, slowly nearing the center, and only when he felt her nails begin to dig into his shoulders did he finally brush a feather-light kiss across the taut tip.

Buffy’s breath caught in her throat, and through heavy-lidded eyes, she watched as his lips pursed slightly and he pressed a whisper of a kiss against the nipple. She held her breath as his mouth opened, his tongue emerged, and with the very tip, he delicately flicked the rigid peak. The air escaped her lungs in a rush, and she rested one hand behind her and arched her back, needing more, silently urging him to take her in his mouth, but he just played with her there, licking her with soft taps of his tongue, circling around, switching to the other breast to tease it into a hard point as well until finally she couldn’t take any more. She grabbed his head, forcing him closer, and with a low, wicked chuckle, he closed his mouth around one tight, aching nipple and suckled her.

"Oh, God."

Gulping for air, Buffy clutched his head, keeping him tight against her, every pull of his mouth creating an answering pulse between her legs. When his teeth scraped against her tender flesh in a light nibble, a small cry escaped her, and she bit her lower lip to keep from making any more sounds. But she almost groaned aloud when Spike suddenly stopped and raised his head. He put his hand up and nudged her lip free with his thumb.

"Don’t do that. Don’t hide. I want to hear you." He met her eyes. "I want to know what pleases you."

"Well, what you were doing? That was good. But the stopping?" She shook her head. "Not good, not good at all."

"Sorry, luv, " he murmured as he lowered his head. He nuzzled her breast. "Is this better?"

She closed her eyes and answered him with a soft hum of pleasure at feeling his mouth on her again. But her eyes opened when his mouth left her breast and they flew wide when she felt him kissing his way down her stomach.

"Spike?"

"Hmm?"

His lips grazed a path along the top edge of her panties.

"I – "

Whatever she planned to say died on a strangled gasp when he pressed his lips against her right through her panties. He hooked his fingers in the sides of the bit of silk.

"Lift up."

She automatically obeyed the quiet command, raising her hips for him, and he pulled the panties down and off, tossing them aside. He straightened, tilting his head to the side to look down and admire the picture she made, sitting on his bed, nude, aroused, open for him, waiting for him. Realizing that she wore not a stitch while he was still fully dressed, a belated sense of modesty came over her and she tried to press her legs together, but he put his hands on her thighs and kept them apart, gently urging them open even more.

He knelt between her splayed thighs, sliding his hands down the backs of her legs until he reached her sandals and slipped them off. He turned his head and gently kissed her next to her knee, slowing gliding his lips up the inside of her thigh. He paused on the soft, sensitive flesh of her inner thigh and his mouth opened against her, lightly sucking. Buffy’s breathing grew ragged and she licked her lips in anticipation of what he would do next. He moved again, passing over the part where she wanted his mouth the most, and kissing her other thigh. She moaned softly and moved her hips restlessly, and Spike smiled against her thigh.

"In a hurry, luv? This is not the kind of thing I like to rush." He pulled back slightly, inhaling the aroused scent of her, training his eyes on the wet, pink flesh before him. "And this is one sweet little pussy I plan to enjoy thoroughly."

"Oh, God." She closed her eyes, half embarrassed, half even more aroused by his words. "What happened to "Watch your mouth’?"

"You can watch my mouth."

With that, he leaned forward and kissed her, and embarrassment fled to be replaced with pure pleasure. He opened his mouth against her, and his tongue came out to pass in one long, slow sweep between her legs. He moaned with his own pleasure, savoring the taste of her, and licked her again. He lapped at her, drinking her in, and Buffy groaned and closed her eyes, pressing her pelvis forward. She lay back onto the tomb as she felt his hands slide under her hips, cupping her ass and lifting her to his voracious mouth. He slid his tongue inside her and out, then plunged it back in when she moaned. Buffy clutched the sides of the top of the tomb as he swirled his tongue around and out, licking his way up. She jumped and gasped when he found the hard ridge of her clitoris and rolled his tongue slowly around it.

Spike flicked her with the tip of his tongue, quick teasing jabs, making her whimper with need. He flattened his tongue and licked her, lightly, softly, enjoying the way her hips bucked against his face. Only when she moaned "please" did he finally open his mouth and gently suck. Buffy’s hands gripped the tomb so tightly that stone crumbled in her hands, and she let go and clutched Spike’s head instead, burying her fingers in his hair and holding him against her. He sucked her again, hearing her cry out, feeling her legs clench around him, and he continued, sucking, licking, nibbling, feasting on her until with a sharp cry, her entire body stiffened and pulsed with the waves of her orgasm.

Spike continued to kiss and lick her softly, slowly, soothing her sensitized flesh, hearing her ragged breathing gradually slow. He felt the fluttering aftershocks of her orgasm on his tongue as he gently slid his tongue inside her. Her hands fell away from his head and he sensed her body relaxing, and she took a deep breath.

"Oh, God, " she said.

"Mmm-hmm," he responded, the sound vibrating through her.

"Spike, what are you…" He applied a light suction and she lifted her head to stare down at him. "Oh, God, what are you doing?"

He slid one finger inside her and grinned devilishly up at her. "Making up for lost time?"

The next hours passed in a haze of pleasure, and Buffy lost track of how many times or how many ways they made love. Sometimes slow, sometimes fast, at times rough, but more often gentle, Spike led her through a wonderland of sensuality that her previous relationships had only hinted at. He gave her no time to think, no time to reason, he only let her feel. And touch. And enjoy.

Once, after a particularly intense session on a pallet of blankets on the floor, Buffy crawled away from him and onto the stone seat under a window, vaguely wondering what all the vamps and other demons were up to. She leaned over and tried to peer through the panes of frosted glass, and though it seemed to be nearing morning, she was unable to see much of anything.

She started when cool lips brushed against the small of her back and then traveled upwards. She shivered and closed her eyes.

"No. No more. I can’t."

"Yes. You can."

He pressed his length against her back, and his hands slid from her hips around to her breasts, cupping them, gently squeezing, and amazingly, she felt a tingle of desire run through her tired body. He slid inside her, pulling back out slowly, then back in. He began a gentle back and forth, building her pleasure, a slow steady climb, and soon she was moving with him, her hips meeting his. She gripped him deep inside with her climax, a slow, hard burst of pleasure that wracked her body, and with a hoarse groan, he came too, grasping her hips and pouring himself into her.

Exhausted, Buffy collapsed against the cool stone, breathing hard. Spike bent over her and kissed the center of her back.

"Spike, if you touch me again, I swear I’ll stake you."

The impact of the threat was somewhat lessened by the fact that the Slayer never opened her eyes and in fact pressed her hips back against him again. Spike chuckled and gathered her into his arms.

"I’m all a-tremble, luv."

He carried her to the pallet and set her down, covering her with a blanket and lying down next to her. She snuggled against him and they both fell into the deep sleep of the fully satiated.