~~~~~

"In the cool of the evening, when every thing is getting kind of groovy,
I call you up and ask you if you want to go and meet and see a movie.
First you say "no", you've got some plans for the night,
And then you stop...and say "all right"
Love is kinda crazy with a spooky little girl like you..." ~~~~~

"You've been here long enough, you know. Sooner or later, you'll have a decision to make."

Spike stretched out on the warm sand, his body soaking in all the glorious warmth of the sun that it had been denied for so many decades.

Sighing deeply, he turned and faced his guide.

"Look, pet...I've told you nine ways from bloody Sunday...I'm not going back. Why should I? I like it here just fine."

He gestured with one hand, encompassing all the beautiful scenery around him. The ocean in front of him, the forest behind him, and the pristine white sand underneath him.

"D'ya have any idea how long it's been since I've sat on a beach during the day? Well, I'll tell you...never. I've never sat on a beach during the day. Not once in my entire bloody existence."

Tucking his hands behind his head, he closed his eyes again. "Now, be a good little spirit helper and shove off. I'm trying to get a tan."

Melisande stood up and glared at him, hands on her hips. "And THAT'S another thing...you have GOT to put some clothes on! There have been complaints."

Spike chuckled. "Liar."

"I BEG your pardon!" The guide drew herself up to her full height of 4ft 5 in, and looked at him, insulted to her very core. "I have never told a lie in my life! YOU on the other hand...."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You already went over all my bad habits when I got here. Give it a rest, will ya, luv?"

She was silent for exactly thirty seconds.

"I'm supposed to talk to you about it again."

"ARRGGH !" Spike jumped to his feet and headed for the water line. "I already told you...I'm NOT going back! Why can't you lot take go-to-hell for an answer?"

Melisande clapped her hands over her ears. "I have told you repeatedly...do NOT use the "H" around here! It's a very touchy subject!"

Bending over, Spike dug up a handful of sand and watched the little crabs that lived in it scurry around in his palm. "Sorry," he muttered.

"What?"

He rolled his eyes and pulled the guide's hands away from her ears. "I said...sorry."

"Oh...well, good." Only slightly mollified, she wiped wet sand off her ears. "Now...to get back on subject. If you remember correctly, I told you when you first arrived that your case was under review."

"Mm-hmm." He stared out over the calm sea, watch- ing in delight as a school of dolphins frolicked off shore. "And?"

"And...I thought you'd be pleased to know that, due to your acting over and above the call of duty, they have offered you a get out of limbo free card. You can go back and try to do things right this time."

Spike shrugged, staring at his feet as he kicked a seashell out into the water. "Got no reason to go back."

Melisande grinned, her silver eyes dancing with glee. "What about her?"

"Her? Her who?" Spike asked, squishing the sand between his toes.

"You know perfectly well "her who?"...the slayer."

He released a harsh laugh. "Oh, yeah...the slayer. Good reason to go back, that one is."

"Well, why not?"

Why not? There were a million reasons why not, but only one that really cut any ice with him.

"She doesn't love me." He shook his head. "I can't go through it all again, pet."

Melisande sighed along with him. "You don't have to go back to HER you know. The world's a big place. Easy to get lost in."

Spike laughed again. "No...I'd never be able to stay away. Tried it already...couldn't do it. Long as she's there, I'd go looking for her sooner or later." He knelt in the wet sand and began to scoop out a hole. "The slayer...I'm like a fucking homing pigeon where she's concerned."

The guide plopped down next to him. "Look, William... Spike...whatever name you're going by these days, you really didn't give her much of chance at the end you know. She finally tells you that she loves you, and you..."

Spike cut her off with a sharp gesture of his hand.

"You don't get it, do you Tinkerbell..."

"Don't call me Tinkerbell. I'm not a..."

"...point is...underneath that slightly frosty and sometimes downright bitch queen exterior...Buffy HAS got a heart." He frowned as he kept digging. "She was just...trying to make me feel better about what was gonna happen."

"Well?" Melisande spread out her hands. "She cares."

"I never said she doesn't care," Spike replied, striving for a little of William's patience. "I know that she cares. It's not enough."

"I'm not the worldliest spirit guide on the astral plane, but even I think you're wrong. I've been watching, you know. For years now." She stood up and brushed the sand off her skirt. "The girl loves you, you thick-headed ox, and if you throw that sand at me, I'll see to it that you spend your next life as a house cat," she warned him when she saw him making a ball out of wet sand.

Spike glared at her. "You wouldn't."

"Try me!"

"You couldn't."

"I can and I will!" Melisande smoothed her hair and turned around. "I'm going back inside now..."

"Good!"

"...but before I do, I have one more thing to ask you."

Spike glanced at her suspiciously. "And that is...."

The petite guide smiled at him. "Are you a gambling man?"

He hesitated. Where the hell had THAT come from?

"I've been known to place a bet or two," he admitted. When the stakes are right. Why?"

Folding her arms across her chest, Melisande's smile grew wider. "I'll bet you that she really does love you.. just exactly the way you want her to love you. If I'm right..."

"You're not even in the neighborhood of right."

"IF I'M RIGHT" she repeated more forcefully. "You pack your bags and get out of my hair for the next fifty or 60 years."

Spike rolled his eyes. "And if you're WRONG, Miss Cheeky?"

There was a short pause. "I'm not sure yet," she finally said. "I don't know exactly how much leeway I have in making these deals. But, it'll be something good...trust me."

He narrowed his eyes. "Something good, huh?"

"Well, of course, something good," she huffed. "I'm not in the business of doling out something bad, you lunkhead!"

She turned and flounced off, with Spike on her heels, stumbling to get his pants on without falling on his ass in the soft sand.

"Oi! How's about you knock off the name calling, pixie brain? That'd be good!"

"Moron!"

"Shrew!"

"Pigheaded clod!"

"Flying monkey!"

She whipped around, her silvery eyes sparking with anger. "I AM NOT A FLYING MONKEY!" she yelled at him.

Spike turned on one heel and ran off down the beach with Melisande in hot pursuit.

"JUST BECAUSE I HAVE WINGS, THAT DOESN'T MAKE ME A FLYING MONKEY! YOU COME BACK HERE, YOU COWARD!!"

She chased him down the beach, letting him know in no uncertain terms what would happen when she caught up with him.

Spike stayed twenty feet ahead of her, laughing in the warm afternoon sun.

~~~~~

"You always keep me guessing and I never seem to know what you are thinking, And if a fella looks at you, for sure you're little eye will be a winking,

I get confused, cause I don't where I stand And then you smile...and hold my hand

Love is kinda crazy with a spooky little girl like you..."

~~~~~

The table in the dining hall normally seated forty- two people, but this evening, there were only two. Melisande's lip curled as she watched her charge scrape the sides of the dish he was holding. His chair was tilted back on two legs, and his feet were propped on the snowy linen table cloth, legs crossed.

"You know, there's more food in the kitchen" she observed. "You don't need to scrape the dish in that annoying manner." She flinched when the spoon screeched on the glass.

"Never waste hot fudge," Spike announced, licking up a drop of it from his finger. "It's one of God's greatest gifts."

Melisande glared at him. "God had nothing to do with hot fudge," she said. "He provided fruit and vegetables, and grain, and the beasts of the field. You won't find any hot fudge trees growing down there, you know."

He placed the dish on the table. "Whatever." Ig- noring another glare aimed at his feet, he smiled. "So, about this bet you mentioned..."

"I have a good mind just to cancel the whole thing," she said. "That'd teach you a lesson."

He winked at her. "No, it wouldn't."

Taking a deep breath, Melisande prayed briefly for strength and wisdom. "Okay...the deal is, you go back down there and hang around a bit. You're gonna hear what you want to hear, and you won't be able to claim that she's only saying it to be nice to someone who's about to...whatever that was you did."

Spike gave her a "you gotta be joking" look. "Now how do you know that?"

"Because," she said, with an "I've got you now" smile," she won't be talking to you. She won't even know you're there."

Now, the thought was beginning to sound a lot more intriguing. He'd be able to see Buffy...to hear her voice...without actually having to reveal himself to her.

This was going to be fun. The good old fashioned kind that he hadn't had in ages.

"When you're ready to admit defeat," his diminutive companion continued. "Just give me the word and I'll start the paperwork."

"Then what happens?"

"You'll be back on Terra Firma before you know what hit you. After that," she shrugged, "it's up to you."

"Right then." He jumped to his feet. "Let's get this show on the road, Fairy face."

The guide threw her hands in the air. "Oh, NOW you're in a big hurry." She stood up and dug a key out of the pocket of her robe. "Come on," she said.

Spike snagged his coat and followed her across the room to a massive oak door. He watched as she inserted the key and turned it.

When the lock clicked and the door swung open, he made to walk past her, but she grabbed his arm.

"Hang on a minute, hot shot," she said, wearing her sternest _expression. "Are you gonna be a good boy and make me proud, or will you continue being a jack- ass with no hope of improvement?"

He paused. "Is there a third choice, luv? Something in between?"

"Okay, THAT does it...you're out of here."

Without another word of warning, she placed her hands in the middle of Spike's back and shoved him out the door.

Slamming it behind him, she leaned back against it and tried to calm her nerves.

"HEY!" came from the other side of the door. "A little help here...where do I go?"

"You'll figure it out," she yelled back.

There was a pause. "Thanks a pantload, darling," Spike said sarcastically.

Melisande waited until she was sure that Spike was on his way before she folded her hands together and closed her eyes.

"Heavenly father...creator of the lightness and the dark...provider of life and blessings on all mankind... I'm begging you...I need a break...please kick that girl in the rear and make sure she uses her heart this time, and not her head...Because, between you and me, Sir..her head is just as hard as his...Amen."


***** ***** ***** *****


Spike stood in front of Buffy's house, taking in everything about it. The trees, the lawn, the rose bushes.

Everything he saw was wonderfully familiar and strangely foreign all at the same time. It looked so similar to the little house in Sunnydale, a town that no longer existed. But this house was in Northern California, just a little bit south of Monterey.

As he stood there, drinking it all in, he saw her pass by the living room window and sit down on the sofa.

"Buffy," he whispered. "I've missed you, honey."

His eyes were starved for the sight of her, and without another thought, he walked through the closed front door and into the living room of the little cottage.

"Hi, baby," he said softly, sitting down in an arm- chair across from the sofa. "How's my 'little bad' doing without me, huh?"

He took a closer look. "You look tired, luv. You been getting enough sack time?"

Tired or not, she was all in the world he cared to look at. He hadn't realized until this moment, just how badly he had missed her.

"Hey, guess what?" he said, propping his feet up on the coffee table. "Remember when I died? I didn't go to hell! Can you feature that? All the crap I pulled over the years, and I ended up in...sort of Heaven. Actually, it was a place between here and there."

Buffy tugged her shoes off and dropped them on the floor.

"They...uh, they said I can come back if I want. But, I figured I've pretty much seen all there is to see down here. I just wanted to...you know...check up on you and the bit before I moved on again."

The slayer rubbed her feet. The sight made him ache to touch her.

He used to do that for her. When she'd had a long day at work slinging greasy hamburgers, she'd come to him and he would take off her socks and shoes, and massage her feet until all the soreness was gone, listening to her describe her day, laughing when she imitated surly cus- tomers.

"So...I've got this thing called a Spirit Guide. They're the ones taking you from one plane to another, and no, not the kind you find at the airport, smarty." He laughed a little. "Her name's Melisande, and she's a right pain in the arse sometimes...kinda like you."

He sighed as she stretched out on the sofa and stared at the ceiling. "Not too bright, though," he went on. "She's got some crazy bollixed up ideas in HER head, I can tell you that. Thinks you love me. I mean...how's that for a laugh?"

Spike stared at his hands for a moment. It wasn't much of a laugh, really. It was a painful little dig at his vitals, a discordant twang of heart strings being twisted and turned in too many directions at once.

"You know," he said. "I'd give just about anything if it was true. If I thought that little silver eyed fiend knew what she was yammering on about...but I...."

He was startled into silence when the front door opened, and Willow walked in. "Oh, wonderful," he muttered. "What did you do, luv? Drag the whole motley crew along with you?"

"Hey, how was work?" Buffy asked, sitting up and waiting for Willow to drop her packages.

"Work was...way too much work today. The bookstore is having an autograph signing today and tomorrow. Five million screaming squirrels trying to grab five thousand books." Willow sat at the opposite end of the sofa from Buffy and tucked her feet underneath her. "So, what did you do today?"

Buffy shrugged. "A little work out with the S.I.T.s, went to the market, solved world hunger...you know, no big."

The redhead grinned. "A typical day NOT on the Hellmouth."

Buffy laughed. "True. That makes up for a lot...being away from there. Away from all the...memories."

Spike was more than a little surprised to hear a catch in Buffy's voice, and when he looked at her, he could swear her eyes held tears in them.

"Buffy," Willow said quietly. "You've got to let him go. For your own good."

His ears perked up. "Let who go...let WHO go?"

Buffy looked at her friend as the tears began to pool in her light green eyes. "I...I don't think I can."

Willow reached for the slayer's hand and patted it kindly. "He wouldn't want you to keep grieving like this."

"I know...I know that," Buffy said, one tear slipping down her cheek. "But I don't know how to make it stop."

Willow shrugged. "By getting back up to where you were before. You gotta go on living, Buffy. He told you that himself."

"WAIT A SECOND!" Spike shouted, standing up and holding up his hand. "Just....wait!" He turned to face Buffy. "Who are you grieving for, slayer?"

"I know." Buffy said to Willow. "It's just hard to do when all I can think about is how badly I screwed everything up."

"Oh, Buffy...please don't cry," Willow begged.

Spike instantly knelt beside the sofa. "No, she's right, baby. Don't cry. Not over me. I'm not worth one of your tears."

Buffy wiped her cheeks. "Sometimes," she said, "the worst part is that everyone thinks I don't want to talk about him. Like...if we don't discuss him, then we'll all just forget him, as though he was never a part of our lives." She sighed deeply. "He tried so hard, Willow. He really did. And we came so close...all that last year, we came so close to fixing things..to making them right."

"Oh, baby..." Spike said, longing to be able to touch her, comfort her a little. "We can still fix it, luv. It's not too late."

Willow dug a tissue out of her purse and handed it to Buffy, her hand passing right through Spike's.

"Buffy...we don't bring up the subject because we know it's still painful for you. But...if you want to talk about him, I'm here to listen. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes," Buffy nodded, drying her eyes. "I know."

Sitting back in her chair, Willow smiled encouragingly.

"I wonder if he'd like it here," she asked. "In Pacific Grove. Did he like the ocean?"

"I don't know," Buffy replied after a short pause. "He liked big cities. All the noise and the music, the lights.."

"The people," Willow teased. "The happy meals."

Buffy giggled."Yeah, I suppose."

"I DO like the ocean love. I've been living right next door to one since I left you. And I've been right out in the sun, too. Little perk they gave me." Spike smiled when Buffy did. "There's that beautiful smile," he said.

"Buffy..." Willow paused. "You loved him, didn't you? And not just at the end...you loved him before."

Spike held his metaphorical breath, waiting for her to reply.

The slayer didn't hesitate for a moment. "I loved him," she nodded. "More than anyone before...even more than Angel. HE ran out on me when things got tough. Spike just...he stuck to me even tighter."

"OH, BLOODY HELL, GIRL," He flung his hands up in frustration. "Why the hell didn't you open your mouth before it was too late? You...you stubborn, infuriating, irritating...WOMAN!"

"I miss everything about him," Buffy said. "The way he talked, the dirty jokes he used to make me listen to, the way he would look at me after we'd made love, his eyes...were so...so tender. Like I was the most wonderful thing he'd ever seen. God....I want him back."

Spike jumped to his feet. "All right!" he yelled at the ceiling. "You win...Yo!...Sandy!...Come on and get me and let's talk terms, luv! I'm ready to come back so let's get...."

"I really miss the sex," Buffy said.

"....hang on a minute." Spike looked at Buffy. "I told you you'd miss it when the well ran dry, didn't I? Didn't I?"

"It was THAT good, huh?" Willow asked.

"Oh, God." Buffy leaned back and smiled. "Good can't begin to describe it. It was absolutely the best, Wil. He did things to me that I still can't believe. It was incredible. The thought of never feeling that way again..."

Spike's brain kicked into overdrive. His poor little slayer. Almost a year, with nothing to quiet that hot blood that raged in her...

"Well, I'll fix that up proper, honey," he promised her. "You just sit tight and soon your Spike will be making you scream the house down again."

Tearing his eyes away from her, he walked out- side, wondering what the hell was taking the little pest so damn long.

"SANDY!!" he shouted. "You win the damn bet, all right? Now, come on and let's get going on this. My girl needs me, dammit!"

There was no response.

"Look....I promise I'll never call you a flying monkey again, okay? Sandy?"

He shouted until he felt hoarse, but got no answer.

Sitting on the curb, he ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "Fucking hell...son of a fucking bitch in fucking hell...stupid bitch is never fucking around when I fucking need her...."

"Profanity will get you nothing but a smack across the face."

It was Melisande's voice, but she didn't appear to be attached to it.

"Where are you?" he demanded. "Can't you fucking hear me? You won the bet. You were right."

"Oh, I heard you," she replied. "And I knew I'd win the bet, so it's not exactly a big surprise."

"Fine," Spike said, leaping to his feet. "Then let's go take care of this and get me out of your hair, okay?"

There was a long pause.

"Sandy? Where the hell are you?" he asked.

"I'm still here at the house. We're having a little trouble with the paging system, and the portal is sort of...stuck."

'Wha...stuck? Well...unstick it! Come on. I gotta get back there so I can get back here. Soon!"

"Sorry, chum, no can do. I'm not in maintenance."

Spike was ready to start tearing heads off. "Then find someone who is!"

"I just told you...the paging system's down. We're working on it, though. Everybody's out looking for Peter, and as soon as we find him, we'll get that portal unstuck and get you on your way."

"Ohhh...FUCK!" he bellowed, frustrated beyond the telling of it.

"Hey! I'm no happier about this than you are," she snapped. "I've already got your room cleaned out. The last thing I need is for you to come back and start tracking sand in again."

Spike drew back one leg and unleashed a vicious kick at a nearby trash can. His foot went right through it and he landed on his ass.

"Although," she added. "I will admit that I'll miss the entertainment value."

He stared up at the sky, trying to reclaim whatever slight amount of dignity he still could call his own.

"When..do you...think...it might...be...fixed?" he said precisely.

"Verr-rry soooon," the guide answered. "Just keep your shorts on."

Rolling over, he rose slowly to his feet. "You don't understand. Buffy needs me. She needs me now."

"What for? What's so important that it can't wait a little while?"

Spike brushed the dirt off his clothing. "She misses me, dammit!" he bit out. "Do you KNOW what that means to me?"

There was a long pause, and he began to wonder if Melisande had signed off.

"Ohhh..." she said. "She MISSES you. You mean in a carnal way. Gotcha."

"Sandy," he implored. "Help me out, luv. For old times sake. Please, sweetie...I need your help."

A few seconds later, he heard a sigh and the leaves in the tree he was standing under stirred.

"Why can't I ever say no to you?" she mused out loud.

Spike shrugged and smirked. "Cause you're crazy about me."

"I'm crazy, all right," she muttered. "Okay...I'll tell you a secret. But if you blab, the deals off!" she warned him. "I'll drag you back here so fast, you won't have time to blink."

"I won't blab. Cross my heart and hope to you know what," he vowed.

There was another pause and then she spoke again, her voice hushed somewhat. "Even though you don't have corporeal form there yet, there are...things...that you can do for her."

"What?" Spike looked puzzled. "What things?"

"If you think I'm delving into the sordid details, you're mad as a hatter," she informed her charge. "You would know better than I what "things" she likes."

"Ohhh..." he said. "Things. I gotcha, luv."

"Comes the dawn," she muttered sarcastically.

"But..wait a second, babe. I can't touch anything here. How can I do these things she likes." He snickered. "Believe you me, the things she likes require a lot of touching. One time, she and I..."

"WHOA!" she squealed. "Spare me the play by play, IF you don't mind."

Spike could almost see her standing with her hands on her hips, scolding him for all she was worth.

"Sorry, luv. Forgot your tender sensibilities."

"That's better. Now, you've been there long enough that some of your mortal capabilities have started to regen- erate. Pretty soon, you'll be able to do some actual touching, and she'll start to feel your presence. Uncon- sciously at first. Once that gets underway, she'll start to hear you, but she won't be entirely sure about what's happening."

"Okay," he nodded. "Got it."

"Just experiment a little, see what happens. But don't get carried away, Casanova, or you'll scare the living daylights out of her."

Spike straightened his clothes, forgetting that Buffy wasn't going to be able to see him.

"I'll keep an eye around here, and as soon as we're up and running again, I'll make sure we get you back fast."

Heading for the front door, he stopped and scanned the sky. "Hey...Sandy?"

"What now?"

"Thanks, luv."

The night was completely still for a moment, then he heard a soft laugh. "Go get her, Romeo."

Spike walked back through the door.

Melisande sighed with relief. Soon, this tangled ball of wrong would finally be ironed out for good. Her charge would be back where he belonged, and if that girl broke his surprisingly tender heart again...she'd be answering to a slightly higher authority this time.

"Good luck, William," she whispered, then went looking for their missing handy man.

~~~~~

"If you decide someday, to stop this little game that you are playing,
I'm gonna tell you everything my heart has been a dying to be saying,

Just like a ghost, you've been haunting my dreams
So, I'll propose...on Halloween
Love is kind of crazy with a spooky little girl like you....."

~~~~~


Spike sat on the sofa, close to Buffy. He waited while she and Willow talked a while more, every so often testing his tactile ability.

When the sofa cushion he was poking began to show the tiniest crease, he decided it was time to let Buffy in on the fact that he was going to be with her again soon.

Sidling up closer, he leaned over and whispered softly in her ear, "Aren't you getting tired, sweetheart? You've had such a long day. Time for bed."

To his immense satisfaction, she yawned and stretched and announced that she was off to bed.

Willow stood up when she did, and gave her a hug. "If you need anything, you know where I am," she said. "Sleep well."

"You, too," Buffy smiled. "G'night."

Rubbing his hands together in anticipation, Spike trailed his slayer up the stairs and into her bedroom. He stood by the door and watched as she rummaged in her drawers for a nightgown, then go into her bathroom and start the water running in the shower.

Deciding that it wasn't what he wanted, he followed her into the bathroom. Perched on the counter, he watched as she undressed.

"God, baby...you're still the most beautiful thing I've ever laid eyes on. Did you know that? Did I remember to tell how beautiful you are? You're so small and delicate, you look like a stiff breeze would carry you off to Oz." He smiled as she brushed her teeth. "Still a bear for the oral hygiene, I see. Well, I don't blame you. I would be too if I'd had to pay Dawn's dental bills."

She pinned her hair up, and pulled clean towels out of the cabinet beneath the sink.

"Your hair's longer again, luv. Did you let it grow for me...cause you know how much I love it that way?"

Buffy pulled the shower curtain back.

"No, baby," Spike said. "Take a bath. You need to soak in a hot tub. Relax all over. Come on...turn off the shower and put the stopper in." He leaned closer, until he was almost touching her ear. "Take a bath, sweetheart."

Delighted, he watched an indecisive look pass over her pretty features, then she shrugged and did as he'd requested.

"Christ...if I'd known how well this would work, I'd have died again YEARS ago," he said.

Buffy reached into the cabinet again and brought out a bottle of foaming bath oil.

"Lavender," he said approvingly. "My favorite. You remembered."

The scent filled the small steamy room, making him light headed. Another sign, perhaps, that he was progressing towards his moment of reanimation.

"Careful," he said, as she stepped into the tub. They had taken a bath together once, and when she'd stepped into the tub, the slick bath oil caused her to slip and land hard on her bottom, displacing at least three gallons of water all over the bathroom floor.

Then, they had made a little love...and displaced a lot more of it.

Buffy placed a bath cushion behind her neck and leaned back, closing her eyes and sinking into the water. "Hmmmm," she moaned.

That sound went straight to his dick!

Kneeling beside the tub, he balanced one arm on it and touched the tip of his finger to the water. A tiny ripple fanned out, almost indiscernable to someone, unless they were looking for it.

"Remember it, Buffy? That night we took a bath together. Dawn was somewhere with her friends and the witches were off dancing in the woods somewhere with their coven. We had the house all to ourselves."

Buffy sighed and licked her lips.

"I poured the soap on that pink sponge you liked. Worked up a ton of lather and spread it all over you, made you all slick and slippery. My hands glided over you like you were made of satin."

She murmured something he couldn't understand.

"I spent a lot of time on your breasts...remember? I tried to move after a bit, but you kept taking my hand and putting it back there. You would slide down a little into the water, then when you came back up, you'd feel the cool air make your nipples hard. Then I made them harder. You were twisting around and whimpering like a kitten."

Buffy sat up and reached for the bath sponge...a blue one now.

"I cupped my hands under them...and pushed them together. I kept playing with your nipples, pinching them a bit...tugging on them. I wanted them in my mouth so badly," he whispered hotly. "You loved it when I did that...when I licked and sucked your breasts. Remember, baby?"

A glob of bath gel was squirted onto the sponge. She started at the back of her neck, and slowly made her way down.

"Now...slide it down over your breasts. Lots of lather now. Make them hard. I want to see you make them hard."

He was sporting an erection that felt like an iron bar, and he had to reach down and adjust his jeans.

"That's how hot I am for you, babe. I'm fucking dead...and you're still turning me on like no other girl ever did . Just you. My dream girl. The best dreams of my life were the one's you were in. And I don't just mean fucking, either. I used to dream about us being real people, Buffy."

He sat on his rear, leaning his back against the tub.

"You were just an ordinary girl." He chuckled. "Well..not ordinary. You could never be ordinary, luv. But you weren't a slayer, and I wasn't a vampire. I was just a man who loved you. A man who went off to a job every day, and then came home to you at night." He turned to look at her again. "And we were happy."

The sponge was on the move.

"That's it," he said. "Pretend...pretend it's me, Buffy. I'm holding that sponge...running it over your breasts. Your belly. Down between your legs, where you're such a pretty shade of pink."

He leaned closer. "Put your hand between your legs," he directed her, willing her to do it. "Touch yourself...rub your fingers against your pussy...inside of it. Slide one in."

She was doing everything he said, like they had some sort of internal transmission system between them. A football coach and his star quarterback.

"Put down the sponge, Buffy."

It plopped into the water.

"Now, put your other hand down there...and find your clit. You can...oh!" He smiled when she caught her breath. "Found it, did you?"

Buffy exhaled deeply, tilting her head back. "Spike," she groaned, almost inaudibly. "...ohh, yes. More."

Oh, bloody hell! She was doing it! She was thinking of him!

"I'm here, Buffy. You're not alone, luv. Soon..I'LL be the one touching you. I'll make it all up to you, baby. Every minute you had to get through on your own. Every tear you cried. Every time you needed me." He swallowed hard. "And I wasn't there."

He shook his head suddenly, sloughing off the melancholy mood.

"Faster, baby...move your finger in and out...come on, do it. That's my girl," he nodded. "My passionate slayer, with her wild heart. Made for me."

"Spike," she sobbed, on a ragged breath. "Mine..."

"Yes," he said urgently. "Yours. All yours, baby. Al- ways will be."

She kept her eyes shut tight, concentrating on what she was doing.

Spike leaned even closer. "Do it, baby. Come for me. Pretend that's my cock sliding in and out of you. Ram- ming in...pounding in...hard and fast. Do you feel it? Feel my cock inside you, Buffy. So hard...for you. Only for you. Going in deep, isn't it? All the way in. Filling your little pussy up. Make it tighter, luv. Let me know you want it in there, don't want to let it go. Tighter."

Buffy arched her back as her fingers moved faster. Touching and teasing herself, rubbing hard against that stiff little knot of flesh he had licked so many times, tonguing her to orgasm after orgasm.

Even now, he could taste her on his tongue. Tangy and juicy, like some ripe tropical fruit that grew wild in the jungles of the South Pacific. He would lash it with his tongue, over and over again, and when he sensed her climax rushing towards her, would close his mouth around it and suck hard while pushing his middle finger up into her drenched passage, then pumping it roughly in and out.

And she would scream...

Scream so loud, his ears would ring.

He hadn't heard that sound in so long. And he needed to hear it again. Hear it with the fresh point of view he could not use before.

He wanted to hear that scream, and know that she loved him. To know that she was screaming her pleasure AND her love, unarticulated as it was in her calm moments.

But he couldn't fulfill that need now. No with someone else in the house who would come on the run if Buffy screamed.

No, that would have to wait.

Buffy's entire body was straining for completion, her hips bucking up into the relief she was taking from her own hand.

"...oh...oh...oh...yes..." Tiny sounds were wrenched from her throat.

"Yes, baby," he encouraged her. "That's what you need. Give in to it...take it..."

When he saw that she was on the verge of the bliss she sought, he spoke directly into her ear.

"Think about ME, Buffy," he hissed. "See ME."

It was the catalyst that pushed her over the edge.

Biting her lip, she gave herself over to the temporary madness.

Spike watched in utter fascination, as her body settled back into the water.

"Buffy," he murmured. "I was right. You ARE amazing."

She sat up suddenly, opening her eyes and looking around the room.

Spike wondered, as she seemed to stare right at him, if something inside of her could truly see him, could somehow know he was there.

But the feeling only lasted a moment. She shook her head to clear it, then drained the water from the tub and climbed out.

Wrapping her towel around her, she switched off the bathroom light and went back into her bedroom.

Spike smiled. Time for round two.



Continued...