Chapter Four - The Jig is Up

“Oh, for cryin’ out loud, Bobbie, we ‘ave to!” Spike exclaimed.

“Buffy,” she corrected for the umpteenth time. “And I’m not doing it,” she insisted, arms crossed in front of her chest defensively. “It’s wrong. He’s been like a father to me.”

“Right then,” he retorted sarcastically. “Where’ll we look then? The public library?” He adopted a high pitched twang. “ ‘Excuse me, Mister Librarian, I’m looking for a comprehensive guide to demon markings.’ ” He pinched his nose and went on in a nasal manner. “ ‘Of course, Miss. They’re in section right next to how to make your very own nuclear device at home.’ ”

“Knock it off,” Buffy sighed.

Unfortunately, his hyperbole was on a roll. “Ooh! An’ since we’re givin’ up the hunt and all, we might as well jus’ go back to my place an’…”

Buffy opened her mouth to object.

“…play a nice round o’ Rummy,” he finished, not noticing her reaction.

She snapped her mouth shut before he could notice. Dammit! she chided herself. Get your mind out of the gutter with the sexy vampire already…

“’Sides,” he added in a more serious tone, “’s not like I don’ rip off the Watcher twice a week anyway. ‘E’s easily the most oblivious bloke on the planet.”

“You’ve robbed Giles?!” Buffy exclaimed in horror. “You…bastard!”

“Oh, now that was jus’ brilliant,” he rolled his eyes. “I can see why you leave all the quippin’ to your precious Jonathan.”

“He’s not mine, and he’s most certainly not precious!” she hissed.

“Good for you,” he said with false enthusiasm. “Way to fight that spell. Go you.”

Buffy ground her teeth together. “You are such an…ass!” she finally exclaimed, too outraged to come up with much else. Instinctively, her hands grabbed hold of the lapels of his duster and she yanked him roughly toward her. “Just. Shut. Up. Spike,” she hissed in a threatening voice, her face only inches from his.

His eyes widened in surprise for a second, and then once again with that odd sense of familiarity.

Buffy was feeling it, too, and her brow furrowed. “Are you getting that strange déjà vu feeling again?” she asked curiously.

He nodded, eyes still wide, and slowly licked his suddenly dry lips.

Buffy’s gaze instantly fell to that luscious lower lip of his, and she calculated it to be only a few inches from her own. I bet it’s sooo sweet… She licked her own lips thoughtfully, debating just how bad the idea that had just popped into her head really was…

“Buffy!” she suddenly heard a cry.

She leapt back from Spike as if she had been burned.

“He been giving you trouble again?” Jonathan demanded, eyes narrowed and crossbow in hand.

Buffy quickly shook her head, purposefully not looking at Spike lest her face flush bright red at what she had been so nearly tempted to do. “He was just spouting off his usual empty threats,” she explained.

Jonathan gestured for Spike to leave, and he wisely did so, vanishing back into the shadows. Buffy tried to suppress the little pang of regret she felt when he left her.

“Why are you out here?” Jonathan demanded. “And all by yourself, too. Didn’t the guys tell you I’d handle patrol tonight?”

“Uh…yeah,” Buffy confessed sheepishly, “but I just thought…you know, since I’d caused so much trouble lately…that maybe a quick little cemetery run wouldn’t hurt…and then I ran into Spike, and he wouldn’t go away, and…” She trailed off.

Jonathan gave her a smile. “It’s OK,” he assured her. “You should just be more careful – especially about Spike. He’s still dangerous, even with the chip. I don’t think you’re ready to handle him on your own yet.”

I was handling him just fine, thank you very much, she thought inwardly, but she kept up the helpless little girl act that would get her out of this unscathed. “I know,” she said, with eyes wide. “Thank you so much for helping me out with him. I was way in over my head.” Not, one voice inside her added. So, another voice – one that was less than pleased with her attempt to kiss him – countered.

“No problem,” Jonathan shrugged it off. “It’s what I do. Do you want me to walk you home?”

She laughed nervously. “I think I can handle that one my own,” she quickly insisted.

“Watch your back,” Jonathan warned, concerned, as he headed off on his patrol.

“You, too,” Buffy attempted to sound cheerful. She waited until she was sure he was gone before she spoke again. “Spike?” she asked hopefully, looking around.

“Here, luv,” said a voice right behind her.

She let out a little screech of surprise and turned around to face him with an irritated expression on her face. “How many times do I have to tell you not to do that?” she demanded.

“Can tell me ‘s many times ‘s you want, pet,” he gave her a wry smirk. “Don’ take orders from you.”

“Yes, you do,” she insisted. “That’s the deal. You are supposed to do exactly as I say.”

“No,” he countered, “’m s’posed to help you fight Jonathan, which ‘s exactly what ‘m doin’. There’s no clause I saw that says you’re the boss o’ me now.”

She let out an exasperated sigh. “Let’s just go get this over with,” she finally decided, “before Jonathan catches us again.”

“Fair enough,” he agreed, indicating she should take the lead.

She rolled her eyes, and together they made their way to Giles’ apartment.

They were unaware of the figure that watched them from the shadows…

***

“What are you doing?” Buffy whispered.

“Reading a book,” he whispered back.

“Is that all you’re doing?” she demanded.

“’Course,” he insisted while slipping a bottle of Scotch into his jacket pocket.

She squinted in the darkness. “Well?” she finally said impatiently.

“’m lookin’,” he insisted. “Don’ get your knickers in a twist…”

Her knickers, unfortunately, felt exactly as if they were in a twist at the moment. Mostly it was from guilt at burglarizing Giles’ apartment in the middle of the night with a vampire. She had absolutely no idea what she could say in her defense if they got caught. And the scene in her dream in which Giles had caught her right before she grabbed the right book invaded her mind constantly, making her even more edgy than she had been while breaking into Jonathan’s place.

However, not even she could deny that some of it was due to the fact that her panties had been drenched through earlier and now had become distinctly sticky and uncomfortable. She shifted slightly, trying to alleviate some of the tension between her thighs and not think about how the perfect solution to that tension was less than ten feet away, searching through Giles’ bookshelves.

“This one looks promisin’,” he finally whispered, handing the book to her. “Let me try to find a couple more, though…”

Buffy heard a muffled voice and a creak upstairs and instantly lunged at Spike, tackling him to ground and hiding them behind the couch from anyone who might casually look in the living area.

Beneath her, Spike made a slight ‘oof’ing noise and this strange deflating sound.

Buffy attempted to slow her wild panting at being so tightly pressed up against him once more and waited for Giles to come downstairs. And waited. And waited.

“Christ, Slayer!” Spike hissed in annoyance, shoving her off of him and brushing himself off as he rose to his feet. “Overreact much?”

“B-But I heard…” Buffy insisted, trying not to moan out in protest when her body was separated from the wonderful feel of taut muscles beneath cool leather.

Spike rolled his eyes. “Watcher talks in ‘is sleep sometimes,” he practically growled, feeling cautiously at the bottle of Scotch he’d nicked and breathing a sigh of relief when it hadn’t broken in his pocket. A wicked leer crossed over his face. “I didn’t know better, I’d say you liked jumpin’ my bones every chance you can get…”

Buffy’s face turned bright red with embarrassment at being caught, and she hoped to god he couldn’t make the color out in the dark.

“As if!” she finally replied in an irritated whisper.

He chuckled and returned to his work, leafing through several books he’d pulled from the shelves.

Buffy scowled at the dark outline of his back as best she could to let him know just how much she hadn’t enjoyed being pressed up against him again.

Her mind, however, was doing a little happy dance. Did you get a feel of his abs? her right hand was saying excitedly. Nope, her left replied, but I got a quick grasp of ass… Very nice. Her panties were starting to feel sticky again.

Really, this schoolgirl crush on Spike had to end absolutely right now! Evil vampire, remember? the responsible part of her pointed out. Jonathan’s former archenemy? Killed two Slayers before?

But, oh, so beautiful…

“An’ these two should do it,” he finally said, handing her two more books.

She squinted in the dark, trying to make sure that he didn’t pilfer anything else of Giles’, while he put everything back the way he had found it.

Finally, he finished, and a cool hand pressed into the small of her back, indicating that they should leave. Buffy headed out just slowly enough that the glorious touch to her back never stopped, and he seemed content to leave his hand there as they escaped the apartment together.

“What now?” Buffy asked in her regular speaking voice now that the immediate danger was over.

He shrugged. “We got books. We look through them…an’ what happened to ‘oh, I’m in charge’,” he said in a squeaky little voice, “anyway?”

Her eyes narrowed at him. “I was just wondering if you thought we needed to do any more…” Her arms flailed around wildly as she tried to come up with an appropriate term.

“Thievin’?” he teased her. “Robbery? Burglary? Petty crime?”

“Stop it,” she scowled.

He flashed her a cocky grin. “Make me,” he challenged.

“Oh, I’ll make you…” Her hands clenched in fists. “I’ll make you…good.” She smacked her head at the lameness of that threat before he even got a chance to comment on it.

“I think hittin’ me was the idea there, Brady,” he taunted her, “not hittin’ yourself.”

“Buffy!”

He shrugged. “Whatever.”

“We need someplace where we won’t be disturbed to do research,” she said thoughtfully, ignoring their most recent exchange. “Let’s go back to your crypt.”

He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Well, since you’re the one askin’, Slayer…”

“Ugh!” her face contorted in disgust – more because she’d missed the secondary meaning of that statement than because the idea wasn’t appealing to her. “I meant to work.”

“That’s what you call it then,” he winked.

“Argh!” she exclaimed, clutching at her hair. “Is everything that comes out of your mouth a sexual innuendo?!” she demanded.

“No,” he said with a delighted smile, “it seems everythin’ that comes out of your mouth is a sexual innuendo.”

Buffy let out a sigh of exasperation. “Let’s just go search for tattoos…” she began and then ‘eep’ed when she realized she’d done it again. What had that lecture in Professor Walsh’s class on Freudian slips been about again? Mortified, she quickly walked ahead of him, practically running into the crypt.

He followed her with a satisfied smile and shut the door behind the two of them.

The figure in the shadows watched the crypt for a few minutes, seeing a few candles light up in the windows. Once it was clear that he two weren’t coming out any time soon, he finally stepped out into the open.

Riley’s eyes narrowed and his hands clenched into fists. When Jonathan had first told him to keep a close eye of Buffy, he’d thought his friend had just been overreacting. After all, Buffy had been under a lot of stress lately with her papers and the slaying…

But now he knew for certain that there was something dreadfully wrong with her. He’d watched nearly flabbergasted all night as she chatted and laughed and hung out and flirted with that…that…vampire! She’d actually helped him out on his usual criminal activities. And now she’d gone back to his place to spend the night!

Riley debated busting into the crypt right then and there and staking that pathetic loser before he could even get a chance to touch his Buffy. But that would be contrary to Jonathan’s orders from when they’d met up in the cemetery.

“Just keep an eye on them and don’t interfere,” he’d said. “And report everything to me in the morning.”

And if there was one thing Riley knew how to do perfectly, it was how to follow orders.

Nevertheless, he promised himself that when this was over and his Buffy was back to normal, he’d make that undead scum suffer before he finally sent him to hell…

***

Buffy sat on the stone sarcophagus beside Spike, trying unsuccessfully to find a comfortable position while searching through the symbols in her text. Spike, of course, didn’t seem to find the cold stone uncomfortable in the least. She gave him a dirty look that was completely lost since he was too busy searching through his own book.

She shifted again and finally couldn’t take it anymore. “How can you possibly be comfortable?” she finally exclaimed. “My spine’s going numb!”

He looked up at her as if surprised to find that he wasn’t alone. “’d offer you the chair,” he said with a slight scowl, “but it seems someone destroyed it… Who was that again?” he asked sarcastically. “Oh yeah, you.”

“Well, I can’t possibly read like this,” she insisted, crossing her arms in front of her.

“Are you always so whiny?” he demanded.

“Whiny?” she exclaimed in disgust. “Whiny?!”

He gave her a lascivious leer and ran one hand up and down his thigh enticingly. “If you’re lookin’ for an invite to sit in my lap, luv, why din’t you jus’ say so?” he teased.

Her face turned bright red at just how appealing that offer sounded, and she quickly turned back to her book. “In your dreams,” she grumbled under her breath, hopelessly embarrassed.

He shook his head and flipped the page in his book to find… “Oy, Slayer,” he called her over. “This it?”

She scootched over to him and looked at the page from over his shoulder. “Yes!” she exclaimed in pure, unadulterated delight.

Outside, Riley heard her cry and flinched.

“What does it mean?” Buffy asked Spike, their thighs brushing lightly as they sat side by side and read.

He frowned. “’S from a spell,” he reread the section carefully. “’pparently, ‘s an enhancin’ spell…”

“Enhancing spell,” Buffy scowled. “What does that mean?”

“Well, s’pose you wanted to make somethin’ better. Your car, or a spell, or a racehorse, or whatnot,” he explained. “This spell does it.”

Buffy nodded slowly. “So Jonathan enhanced…himself?”

“Looks like it,” Spike agreed. “The symbol appears on whatever’s been enhanced.”

“What about to monster then?” Buffy wondered.

“’S a side effect,” Spike pointed to the passage. “All the nastiness that got cut out o’ your good friend Jonathan went into the monster.”

“That’s why he’s trying to defend it,” Buffy nodded slowly. “He doesn’t want us to find out he cast the spell…”

“Not jus’ that,” Spike commented. “Destroyin’ the monster reverses the spell.”

She smiled. “Guess we know what our next move is then. Good work…partner.”

He gave her a shy smile as well. “Same time tomorrow?” he inquired.

She nodded. “You know, I never would’ve believed it,” she began, “but we make one helluva team…”

He shrugged and looked away, seeming slightly…embarrassed? of all things. His reaction filled Buffy’s stomach with the strange, warm feeling.

“Good night, Spike,” she said softly, rising to her feet.

He rose as well, and for an instant their bodies were only a few millimeters apart. “’Night, Betsy,” he agreed before stepping away.

Her body visibly slumped when he moved away. “That’s Buffy,” she said in exasperation before leaving his crypt.

Riley had long gone by then and didn’t see her leave.

Chapter Five - The Somewhat Mediocre Escape

Spike lay back on the stone sarcophagus in the center of his crypt, hands clasped behind his head, and let out a contented little sigh. It was a typical morning in the unlife of a vampire, spent alternately snoozing and lazing about in the cool darkness. But there was one thing about this morning that was far from typical…

He closed his eyes and once again played a few select scenes from the night before in his head. His lips curled into a smile at the thought of the Slayer grinding herself up against him in the closet and the way her lips had been so close to brushing against his…

Slayer wants me, he repeated to himself for the umpteenth time, the thought still bringing a smile to his face every time.

When he first realized it, it had shocked him to no end – that sweet, musky smell drifting up to him every time he came near, letting him know that her body was ready and waiting for him and him alone…

Of this last part, he was certain. She’d been dry as a bone on her date with Captain Cardboard until he’d shown up and gotten her juices flowing again…

“Pretty little Slayer,” he whispered in his half-asleep state, rolling over onto his side. One of his hands came to rest at the waistband of his jeans, and he reached down to give Spike Jr. a reassuring pat. The traitor between his legs had been acting up more than usual recently, especially in that closet… “Slayer,” he moaned softly, his hand unconsciously gripping himself tighter through the fabric of his jeans.

It was twisted, of course. Sick. That the Slayer, of all people, should want him…well, he’d always known he was a handsome devil. The poor thing probably just couldn’t help herself. But that he was starting to feel it as well… That was just wrong. She was the Slayer, for crying out loud! Perhaps the only woman in the world that he should want his fangs in but not his cock. Although, in all fairness, it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought of having a Slayer that way before. That feisty girl in New York…

His jeans were chaffing in a horribly uncomfortable way by now. With deft fingers, he pulled down his zipper and unfastened the button, allowing himself to spring free into his hand. He gripped his swollen cock tightly, molding his hand so that it rubbed against every pulsing nerve.

His eyes shut tighter as he pictured the fiery little blonde doing this – lying beside him, her pert little breasts bared and ripe for the tasting, and her tiny hand gripping him with every bit of strength she had, jerking him off… She would whispering dirty things into his ear as she did so: how she tried to be a good girl but it was so hard when evil was so tempting, and how only vampires could get her all tight and hot, and how she couldn’t come without an icy cock buried deep within her and fangs piercing her soft, supple flesh.

He groaned as the dream image beside him sensuously crawled down his body to take him into her mouth. She slurped at him as if she had been walking through the desert for hours and he was a pristine fountain, and she drank down all the cool nectar he squirted into her eager throat.

With a contented mumble he opened his eyes to see that he’d shot his load all over the lid of the sarcophagus. Not good. Very messy, in fact. He groaned and debated getting up to clean up the mess. But it wasn’t really all that necessary yet as long as he didn’t roll over onto the white puddle…

It was all the excuse he needed to keep up the fantasy. The savory little morsel was now pulling him on top of her, whimpering about how she would die if she didn’t get a good, hard fucking right now. He was more than happy to oblige, both in this dream world and in reality.

Unconsciously, he shifted over onto his stomach so that his once again firm erection ground down against the cold stone lid beneath him. Of course, in his mind’s eye, it was a raging inferno he plunged into. The Slayer’s body was hot and wet and firm and soft and tight…so very tight. She felt like a virgin, but the way she rubbed herself up against him and clawed and scratched…better than any pro he’d ever had.

It was the kind of dream he always wished would last forever, but in his half-asleep state, it was always over much too quickly. “Buffy…” he moaned raggedly and squirted out onto the stone slab once more…then swore when he realized that there was now nowhere to lie down until he cleaned the coffin lid up.

With a weary sigh, he propped himself up and made his way over to the bucket of water and rag he used for just this purpose. It was an unfortunate side effect to not having anything tender and female to come inside of.

He briefly considered picking up another vamp floozy like Harm just so he would have something to take a poke at when he felt like it. Sure, he was down and out with the demon crowd as of late, but several young females had still made it more than clear that they wouldn’t mind taking a vampire of his strength and experience into their beds. Unfortunately, meaningless sex quickly lost its charm with him. It really was a pity…

He wiped up the spill, still yawning and making that humiliating purring sound that he never seemed to be able to suppress after sex. When his makeshift bed had been cleaned once again to his satisfaction, he tossed the rag back over beside the bucket and moved to lie down once more…

He was interrupted by the sound of a crossbow bolt being slipped into place. His head jerked up in surprise.

“Oh, yeah, you’ve got class,” Riley said with a nasty frown, the deadly weapon in his hands aimed straight at Spike’s heart. “I can see why she likes you…”

“That sarcasm, mate?” Spike tried for cocky since…well, since cocky was the only mode he had to deal with a potentially life or death situation now that he had this damn chip in his head. “Hard to tell with you, given that the bland, white bread voice an’ the bland, white bread face never change.”

Riley’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know what you’ve done to her,” he threatened, “but I’m going to make you pay.”

“See now?” Spike raised one scarred eyebrow. “That s’posed to be anger? Menacin’? Impossible to tell. Maybe you should practice movin’ your facial muscles a bit in th’ mirror before tryin’ to talk to other people.”

Riley’s posture became more rigid, if that was possible. “Jonathan’s going to find out what you did,” he informed the vampire. “And then he’s going to make Buffy mine again. And then I get to kill you, and we go off together happily ever after.”

Spike couldn’t help it. He laughed. “Hate to break it to you, Major Bringdown, but that sweet l’il girl of yours? She’s got the hots for me all on her own. Din’t do a thing to her ‘cept offer somethin’ a bit less…” He looked Riley up and down, appraising him, and then shook his head when the Initiative agent came up short. “…vanilla.”

Riley re-cocked the crossbow, reminding Spike exactly who was in charge of this situation. “I should kill you right now,” he insisted. “You used some spell or something. You took advantage of her. You raped her.”

Spike gave him an incredulous look. “Oh, now, look who’s gotten too big for ‘is britches.” He cast an eye down to that region of Riley’s anatomy in a way that made all uptight, insecure men squirm – and Riley squirmed with the best of them. “Or not,” he added slyly, dropping his hand to the waist of his jeans where he still hung out of his jeans proudly.

Riley flinched and refused to look down. “Get dressed,” he ordered. “Jonathan’ll be here soon.”

“Ooh, a threesome,” Spike said with a delighted smile, “din’t know you were into that kinda thing…”

He tucked himself back into his pants and zipped up, point proven. If Riley had been able to challenge him in that department, he certainly would have since even a lummox like this wooden soldier knew how much size really mattered. It was nice to know that the feels the Slayer had been coping off of him had revealed a treat larger than any she’d ever had before…

Riley’s lips attempted to curl in disgust. They failed miserably, however, just like they had failed to convey sarcasm or anger. “Just shut up,” he hissed, his finger twitching on the trigger. “A filthy animal like you doesn’t get a chance to speak.”

Spike yawned nonchalantly and lay back down on the sarcophagus. “Jus’ wake me when Johnny gets here,” he said in as trivializing and condescending a tone as he could manage. “Hate to miss out on the real action…”

Riley ground his teeth together in blind fury, but managed to still his itchy trigger finger. Jonathan needed this worthless creature alive so that he could reverse the spell or thrall or whatever was on Buffy. Poised in a state of constant readiness, he watched as the vampire seemingly slept the next few minutes away, while Riley waited tense as all hell.

“Y’know what your problem is, White Bread?” Spike finally asked, rolling over to face Riley with a wicked gleam in his eye.

“Something tells me I’m about to find out,” Riley countered irately.

Spike rolled his eyes. “You’re so bleedin’ militaristic,” he retorted. “ ‘Yes, sir’, ‘yes, ma’am’, ‘would you like me to lick your boots, sir?’ Hell, you prob’ly had to read the soddin’ manual before you had a go with your l’il Slayer.”

“Go on.” Riley raised the crossbow. “I dare you.”

Spike scoffed. “You won’t do it,” he insisted. “That would be ‘gainst your orders, an’ heaven forbid you should ever think for yourself…”

“You are this close.” Riley lined up his shot.

“This close to what?” Spike demanded. “More empty threats? You gonna try to bully me around a bit more? Maybe knock me around a bit? That’ll make you feel all tough an’ manly again, ‘d wager – beatin’ up on someone who can’t hit back.”

“Shut—” Riley began just as the crypt door opened up.

Just as Spike had planned it, his enhanced hearing having alerted him long ago of the two voices approaching.

“But this is just Spike’s—” Buffy was in the process of saying.

Jonathan shut the door behind the two of them, gave Riley a quick nod of approval at how he had the Spike situation well in hand, and turned back to Buffy. “I lied,” he informed her matter-of-factly. “There is no new Master in town.”

“What…?” Buffy looked to Spike confusedly, then saw what Riley was doing. “Riley, put that down,” she said with sudden alarm.

“He did a real good job brainwashing you, didn’t he?” Riley retorted coldly. “It’s all right, though. We’ll break his thrall in no time.”

Buffy frowned. “What are you talking about?” she demanded, still confused.

“I had Riley follow you last night,” Jonathan began. “I was a bit worried about how you’ve been acting lately.”

Buffy’s stomach twisted into a knot. They knew… She and Spike had been trying to be so careful, but now Jonathan knew they were onto his little spell, and he was going to…what exactly?

“How could you, Buffy?” Riley demanded in a voice full of hurt. “I know he’s got you under a spell or something, but still…”

“You know about the spell?” Buffy said in disbelief, misconstruing his meaning entirely.

Riley nodded solemnly. “Don’t you worry,” he told her. “We’ll find a way to undo it, and then everything will be back to normal again.”

Buffy frowned. “That’s what we’ve been trying to do.” She looked to Spike, trying to figure out exactly what it was she was missing.

He gave her a warning look not to say any more, and – if anything – it made her more puzzled than before.

Riley was confused now, too. “Why would Spike try to remove a spell he cast?” he asked Jonathan.

This caused Buffy’s head to whip around to look at him. Aha! Her mind came to a revelation. Spell being discussed is not Jonathan’s enhancement spell. Which explains why Spike wants me to stop referring to said enhancement spell. Which doesn’t explain in the slightest what spell Riley’s talking about…

“What spell are you talking about, Riley?” Buffy decided to go for direct, as always.

“The one he,” Riley threw Spike a disgusted look, “cast on you to make you sleep with him.”

“What?!” The volume of her exclamation made Spike flinch. She gave him an apologetic look. “What?!” she repeated a bit quieter but still in complete and utter disbelief.

“I saw you,” Riley informed her. “Last night. He made you help him break into people’s houses, and then he made you…” He gulped. “I-I…heard the two of you…”

“Heard us what?” she retorted sarcastically. “Argue about how hard the sarcophagus is?”

Riley blanched and looked at the structure Spike was still seated on with newfound horror. “I don’t need to know the details,” he said, his voice shaking slightly.

“Details?!” Buffy was getting more and more pissed off by the second. “No-thing. Hap-pened,” she said in slow monotone.

“You did break into my house, though,” Jonathan took charge of the conversation again. “And into Giles’ as well.”

Buffy gave Spike a nervous glance. He shrugged, then looked down in an odd gesture that almost looked like it was supposed to be sheepish… Except she’d seen sheepish-Spike before, and he looked totally different.

Jonathan and Riley seemed to take the look at face value, at least. Buffy stuttered for a response to Jonathan’s accusation while her eyes found what Spike had been subtly indicating to her. He nodded slowly when her eyes alighted on the trapdoor and then back to him.

“Th-There’s a perfectly good explanation for that,” she began, distracting both Jonathan and Riley’s attention while Spike slowly inched off of the sarcophagus and snuck up on Riley. She had absolutely no idea what he planned to do with the chip in his head, but she bought him as much time as she could. “You see,” she flashed them a bright smile, “there was this spell that I wanted to do. But it was supposed to be this big surprise. So big that I couldn’t tell any of you about it. But I could tell Spike because he wasn’t any of you. So anyway, I needed to find the spell in a book. But I couldn’t tell any of you, so I had to look through your magic books while you weren’t there…”

She was dimly aware of the fact that her excuse made no sense as she babbled on and on. Fortunately, it had given Spike time to sneak up right beside Riley and reactivate the safety catch on the crossbow with the fluid grace of a skilled pickpocket.

He gave her a little nod, and through some form of psychic communication she instantly understood what his plan was exactly.

She began walking toward Jonathan, a pleading tone in her voice as she continued. “It wasn’t a bad spell, honest,” she implored him, “and I would tell you what it is, but it’s a really big secret and—”

Spike gave her the go ahead nod.

She shrieked and pointed over her shoulder at him.

Jonathan and Riley both spun around to face him, Riley’s finger pulling the trigger on the crossbow and discovering that it had been disabled.

In the meantime, while Jonathan’s back was turned, Buffy brought her heel down hard on his collarbone, sending him slumping to the floor, unconscious.

Riley spun back around to face her, this time his crossbow set to kill, but Spike’s foot caught his ankle, tripping him. He sprawled forward and landed right on top of Jonathan with a loud ‘oof’.

Buffy grabbed the crossbow from him and dashed over to where Spike had raised the trapdoor. Trusting him instinctively, she dove into the blackened opening, hearing the vampire follow her a few seconds later.

“Hold the door up,” Spike ordered her, listening to the sounds of Jonathan and Riley swearing as they untangled themselves. “’ll get somethin’ to prop it shut.”

Buffy did as he asked, poised on the ladder underneath the trapdoor and pushing upward as hard as she could in order to counteract the downwards pushes from above.

After a couple of minutes, it occurred to Buffy that if Spike was planning on setting her up, he’d just done an absolutely perfect job of it. She was pretty much trapped, with no way to escape without her pursuers getting in. Boy, you sure can pick ‘em, the disillusioned part of her mind spoke up. Boyfriend #4 ditches you to save himself while Boyfriend #3 breaks in the door to kill you…

Spike’s a boyfriend? Another nervous, vulnerable voice asked. That was a question that was much better explored later. Right now, she had to determine just how screwed she really was.

“Spike?” she asked anxiously into the darkness.

“Just a second, luv.” The familiar, rough British tones sounded like music to her ears. “’ve almost got it…there!”

Buffy saw something vaguely move beside her and squinted to see a large wooden beam being propped up against the trapdoor.

“That holdin’, pet?” Spike asked from where he’d anchored the other end between two boulders.

Buffy cautiously let go. Jonathan and Riley continued to bang on the trapdoor, but it didn’t budge. “It’s good,” she informed him, scampering down the ladder. “Now, please tell me there’s another way out of here…” she said wearily.

She felt cool fingers intertwine with hers, and she held on to him tightly, allowing him to guide her through what seemed like an endless maze of twisting corridors.

“Where are we going?” she finally asked breathlessly after all she’d known for quite some time were the blackness and the strong hand that led her.

“Far away from there ‘s we can get,” he responded.

“Can we stop for a second?” she requested.

He did as she asked so abruptly that she crashed right into his back. “Sorry,” she said, regretting the feel of well-worn leather beneath her cheek the instant she pulled away.

“Why’re we stoppin’ then?” he asked casually, sneaking a look at their locked hands and smiling only because he knew that she wouldn’t be able to see it.

“We need a plan,” Buffy explained, “and I need a bit of a rest.”

“All right then.” He gave her a gentle pull over to the wall and sat down against it.

She followed his example and sat beside him, her shoulders and hips lightly touching his. Although it was no longer necessary, their hands remained firmly linked, neither having any real desire to break contact.

Spike listened to her gasping breaths in the darkness and fought back the swelling desire within him at the feel of her burning flesh nestled right up against him. He could tell that the Slayer had absolutely no idea how she was effecting him, and it was driving him absolutely crazy…

Buffy’s breath slowed gradually, and the presence of the vampire so close beside her comforted her in all sorts of inappropriate ways she really didn’t want to think about at the moment. In fact, she was strangely calm considering the fact that Riley was probably thoroughly convinced both that she was sleeping with Spike and that she was now evil.

The second part was entirely Jonathan’s spell’s influence, and the first… Well, you’ve already covered heresy by thought and heresy by word, a very Faith-like voice spoke up. All you’ve got left is heresy by deed… And since you’ve already been found guilty no matter what you’ve actually done…have a little fun for once!

Buffy blushed and looked away from the vampire beside her.

“Slayer?” he asked softly.

“Mmm?” she turned back to face him.

“What do we do now?” he wondered.

Buffy sighed and felt very, very tired. For a second she contemplated resting her head on his shoulder and having herself a nice nap. Her pleasant dreams of the morning had been rudely interrupted when Jonathan had woken her up under the pretense of slaying. She discarded the idea, however. He hadn’t really given her any sign that he was up for anything much more than a quick fuck…and he hadn’t even given her many signs of that one.

Apparently, her conscious mind found the fact that his hand his held hers and his thumb was tracing patterns into her palm so soothing and comforting and natural that it was ignored just as her breathing and heartbeat were.

“We have to find somewhere to go,” she finally began. “Somewhere that’ll be safe until nightfall. Then, we have to find the monster and kill it. The universe will revert back to normal then, and maybe things won’t look so grim…”

She shivered. She jerked in surprise when his hand released hers and nearly complained before his arm ever-so-cautiously wrapped itself around her shoulders, drawing her close.

“Cold, luv?” he whispered right in her ear.

“Mmm-hmm,” she murmured contentedly, her head finally pillowed against his shoulder.

He managed to slip off his duster without disturbing her and wrapped it tightly around her shoulders. She gave him a grateful little smile, knowing that he would be able to see it even in the dark.

Without thinking, he brushed aside a lock of hair that had fallen into her face and stopped in mid-motion when he realized what he was doing.

Slayer’s just an ally to get back at Jonathan, remember mate? He chided himself. Maybe you take her for one quick ride just to test her out. You do not start getting that strange, warm feeling in your chest that makes you feel as if your heart’s beating again…

But that voice in his head seemed so faraway and distant, and the heat beneath his breast felt so warm and real. What had originally begun as an amused pass at her quickly transformed into something much different.

She was nestled back against his chest now, breathing in the intoxicating aroma that was Spike and enjoying the feeling of lazy contentment that settled over her.

“I’m sleepy,” she yawned.

“I know a place,” he said softly. “Close by. Harm used to live there, but then she ditched town, an’…’s open now.”

“Let’s go,” Buffy agreed, reluctantly pulling away from him and sitting up. “I think we could both use a little rest after this morning’s wake up call.”

He caught her about the waist and lifted her onto her feet. Bloody hell, she was hot! And oh-so-sexy in his black leather…

“Spike?” she whispered huskily, her lips only a few inches from his and her hands resting lightly on his chest.

“W-We should go,” he said, a slight tremor in his voice. His caught her hand in his once again. “C’mon.”

A bit disappointed, Buffy followed, still clinging tightly to his hand…

Chapter Six - Did A Stupid Thing...

“We have to find them!” Riley insisted. “Who knows what kind of danger Buffy is in?”

“I still can’t believe it,” Willow said, stunned. “Our Buffy…”

“She appears to be under some sort of thrall,” Jonathan quickly reassured her. “It isn’t Buffy that’s doing all this.”

“Funny,” Anya commented, turning over to the next page of the special ‘Jonathan Issue’ of Sport’s Illustrated.

“What was that?” Xander turned to her.

She shrugged and didn’t even bother to look up. “It’s just if Spike had a thrall all this time, why didn’t he use it before…?”

***

With a soft sigh, Buffy turned over and sleepily reached out to find nothing but an empty mattress beside her. She frowned and sat up, quickly scanning the subterranean cave. For a second, she couldn’t remember how she’d gotten here from her bedroom…and then the events of the night before came back to her.

That would be why she was alone in bed, as well. The real Spike was stretched out on an old couch across the room from her.

She blushed and smiled at the visions that had delighted her dreams. He had been so very, very beautiful… She only wished that one day she’d get to verify her suspicions. He didn’t even have the decency to remove his shirt when he went to bed…

She let out a stifled yawn and looked around the lair in a vain search for a clock. She mentally cursed herself for about the ten thousandth time for not wearing a watch. After a while, it occurred to her that she had no clue whether Spike wore a watch and…well, who was she kidding? She’d been looking for an excuse to go over to him anyway.

She froze for a minute, watching him sleep, and took a deep gulp of air. She had never seen him like this before, so calm and peaceful and innocent looking… A slight smile played upon the edges of his lips, and for once it didn’t look sarcastic or irritating. He just looked…happy. Buffy didn’t think she’d ever seen that expression on his face before, but – if anything – it made him seem more tempting than before…

He didn’t stir when she slowly pulled back the blanket that covered him. He had at least removed his duster, allowing her to examine the strong muscles of his forearms…and determine that he wasn’t wearing a watch on his right wrist. His left was trapped between his thigh and the back of the couch.

Tentatively, she reached out to touch his concealed arm gently. One nervous glance to his face told her that she hadn’t awakened him. He didn’t react in any way when she pulled her arm free. Damn, no watch on that wrist either! That was the deluded part of her brain that was still convinced she was doing this purely to find out what time it was. It was obviously another part that guided her hand, tracing the powerful lines of the curves of his muscles.

So absorbed was she in this task that she practically jumped out of her skin when he muttered in his sleep and rolled over onto his side…unconsciously grabbing hold of her hand in his and pulling her along with him.

Just great! Buffy’s mind chided her. Now look what you’ve gotten yourself into…

Cautiously, she tried to extricate herself. Not that she minded the handholding so much… But she was forced to prop herself up somewhat awkwardly with her free arm or else she would collapse onto his back. And that would certainly wake him up. And then she’d have to explain how her hand had gotten trapped between his chest and the couch back – not an easy thing to do.

Unfortunately, the grip on her wrist was pure iron. She couldn’t budge an inch.

Buffy sighed in frustration. Well, she did technically have an excuse for how she’d gotten stuck like this…

“Spike,” she said softly, nudging his shoulder. “C’mon, Spike, wake up.”

No response.

She frowned and shoved at his shoulder a little harder. “Spike!” she persisted.

Still nothing.

The frown became a scowl. No more Miss Nice Slayer. “Spike!” she repeated before blowing on his ear.

He giggled slightly in his sleep and rubbed his ear against his shoulder several times to remove the tickling sensation.

Encouraged, Buffy kept this new tactic up. She blew on the base of his neck this time, right into the short, silky hairs there.

A muttered curse, and his free hand swatted at the back of his neck.

“Spike, wake up,” she repeated, this time tickling him lightly under the arm.

He squirmed a bit in his sleep, trying to get away from her, before he finally flipped over onto his stomach…unfortunately, pulling her with him.

Buffy’s eyes widened when she suddenly found herself lying across his back, the firm power of the body beneath her all too apparent. Her hand was now hopelessly trapped beneath his chest, and she couldn’t move an inch.

Not that she wanted to.

She took in a deep breath and felt her body’s contours mold to his. He really was unmistakably gorgeous, and it seemed such a shame to move from this wonderful position on top of him… Except to the fact that her pinned arm was going quite numb under his weight.

“Spike!” She ran her fingers up and down his spine, tickling him mercilessly.

He giggled and squirmed again and then abruptly awoke with a start.

“Huh?” he blinked confusedly, disappointed to have been awakened from yet another dream…and then realizing that at least a part of his dream had been real. The Slayer really was spooned up against his back…and, wait a minute! Why was she…?

“Wake up, Spike!” she demanded irately. “I can’t feel my arm at all anymore!”

Arm? This was way too confusing for the first thing in the evening. Fortunately, she managed to move the arm in question enough for him to realize that it was trapped beneath him and raise himself up enough for her to pull it free.

She instantly crawled off of him, tripping as she went and landing on the dirt floor in a tangle of limbs.

Half-awake now, he rolled over to face her with a perplexed expression on his face. “Slayer, why was I lyin’ on your arm?” he asked with a wide, feline yawn, his eyelids still drooping drowsily.

“I was trying to look at your watch, and then you just grabbed hold of me and wouldn’t let go,” Buffy said defensively, sticking with her well-planned excuse.

“Oh.” He nodded sleepily and closed his eyes again. She could almost see them snap back open. “Don’ have a watch,” he pointed out.

“I noticed,” she said wryly, “but by then I was trapped.”

“’S nice.” Thankfully, he was still too asleep to question her rather lame explanation.

Buffy sat back, sighed, and tried to ignore the fact that the tingly feeling that had been running through her arm wasn’t entirely numbness.

“Spike?” she said at last.

“Mmm?” He cracked one eye open to look at her. Actually, he was having a bit of difficulty getting back to sleep now that the soft body that had been keeping his back nice and warm was gone.

“Are you awake?” she asked cautiously.

He sighed and sat up. “Yeah, kitten,” he decided he might as well get up since she was being so persistent.

“Good,” she smiled, “’cause we’ve got lots to do before sunset…whenever that is.”

“’bout two hours,” he provided.

She looked at him in disbelief. “H-How did you…?” she stuttered.

He scratched his stomach and couldn’t help but smile when she looked upon the skin exposed there like a woman starved. “Vamp sense,” he explained, letting his shirt fall back down into place. “Always know when the sun’s goin’.”

“Uh-huh, really,” Buffy nodded dumbly, taking in his sleep-rumpled attire and tousled platinum curls. She decided she could definitely get used to seeing Spike first thing in the morning…or evening as the case happened to be…

“So,” he said, swinging to his feet and heading over to a nearby dresser, “what’ve we got to do ‘xactly?” He pulled a jar of hair gel out of the drawer and went over to the nightstand – out of habit, Buffy assumed, because he couldn’t see his reflection in the mirror.

She shook her mind back from her pleasant daydreams and turned serious once again. “We need to reverse this spell – now more than ever.”

“No arguments from me, Binnie,” he watched her reflection.

“It’s Buffy and you know it,” she said in annoyance, moving to sit in the armchair beside him.

“Do I?” he replied with an enigmatic smile.

She rolled her eyes and went on. “The only way we know how to reverse the spell is to kill the monster, so I still say we should go after it.”

“If we can find it, that is…” He slicked the gel back into his hair, restoring it to its usual style.

Buffy sighed. “Actually, I was kind of hoping you had been lying to me and Jonathan before and you already knew where it was.” She picked up a comb from the table and began to tend to her own ruffled hair.

“Wasn’t lying,” he said apologetically, slipping into his duster. Then his brow furrowed. “Don’ know if this means somethin’…” he began.

“Anything is better than nothing,” she pointed out, setting the comb back down onto the nightstand.

“Right,” he nodded. “Well, there’s some vampires got kicked out of a cave in the hills behind Brookside park. Don’t know what did the kicking out, but it was prob’ly pretty big—”

“Our monster?” she inquired hopefully.

He shrugged. “Not sure. Couldn’t ‘urt to have a look-see, though.”

“No,” Buffy agreed with a small smile. “In fact, it’s a pretty good lead. Now we just have to not get caught checking it out… Do you know how to get there through the tunnels?”

Spike nodded. “Can get us pretty close, ‘t least.”

“Good, that takes care of problem number two…” She turned to him to see that he had a small smile on his face. “What?” she demanded.

He shrugged and looked down.

“What?!” she repeated.

“’S nothin’.”

She scowled at him. “It is something, and you will tell me right now,” she ordered.

He gave her a quick sheepish look and then found something very fascinating on his boot to watch. “’S just…” he began before trailing off. He gulped and began again at her sounds of impatience. “I jus’ never saw you like this before. You were always kinda in Jonathan’s shadow, an’ I guess… I never realized how strong you really are.”

“I’m not strong,” she quickly retorted bitterly. “If I was strong we wouldn’t be hiding out in an underground cave with all my friends after us.” A tear threatened to come into her eye, but she stopped it before he could see…at least, before she thought he could see.

The look on his face softened further, however. “That’s where you’re wrong, luv,” he informed her. “To keep on fightin’ even when everyone you love’s against you… Don’ know ‘f I could do that all by my lonesome.”

“I’m not alone,” she reminded him. “I have you.”

“Yeah,” he agreed softly, then laughed. “I jus’ can’t believe I never saw it before.” One hand reached forward to push an errant lock of hair behind her ear. “Can’t believe I never saw you before…”

She inhaled sharply and closed her eyes when his fingers gently caressed her cheek.

He watched her reaction with the most peaceful look on his face. Then he realized what he was doing, frowned, shook his head, and pulled back from her – both physically and emotionally.

Buffy opened her eyes to find that the kind, tender Spike was gone, and the bad ass mask was now firmly back in place. It took her a few seconds longer to compose herself, but when she did her voice was all business once again.

“We’ll need weapons…” she commented.

“Don’t fancy takin’ the beasty on bare handed?” he teased, already back into their old banter.

She gave him an annoyed look. “Do you want to?” she demanded.

“Always up for a bit of a challenge,” he retorted, licking his lips.

Buffy’s own lips parted, her mouth gone suddenly dry at the thought of how wonderful those moist, cool lips would feel against her own…

“Slayer!” he practically shouted. “You hear me?!”

“Huh?” she said confusedly, shaking herself out of the daze she’d been in. She flinched slightly when she realized that Spike had managed to get up, walk across the room, open a trunk, and remove an entire pile of weapons, all while she was absorbed in her little fantasy world.

“Think the crossbow’ll do any good?” he repeated, too busy tracing the edge of an axe, a glazed look of murderous ecstasy on his face, to notice her distraction.

She frowned. “My guess is that this is a decapitation situation,” she finally decided. “Leave the crossbow.”

He nodded, obviously too beguiled by the axe to really care.

Buffy walked over to him and began searching through the weapons there. “Ooh, pointy!” she said, removing a broadsword from the pile and testing its balance. “Pretty…” She gave it a few experimental swings.

Spike looked at her in surprise, and she gave him an embarrassed little smile.

“I like sharp objects,” she commented, blushing furiously.

“Me, too,” he agreed.

“So,” she said, sticking the tip of her weapon into the dirt and running her fingers up and down the hilt lovingly, “do we wait till sundown or—” She stopped with a quick gulp when she saw the way he was watching her.

Spike knew he’d been caught, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from the way her hands gently toyed with her sword’s hilt. And, somewhat tellingly, she didn’t stop when she noticed exactly what it was that had rendered him speechless. Rather, her fingers encircled the hilt, pumping up and down on it…

Or was that just his imagination?

He shook his head to find that she was still merely fingering it lightly.

Buffy’s eyes widened when she realized what the connotations of her hands’ actions were, and she abruptly stopped and just gripped the hilt. Or was that worse? He was practically panting now, and the bulge in his pants looked like it was about to burst through the tight denim.

He licked his lips once, twice, three times, before he could finally speak. “W-We sh-should go now, I think,” he gasped in a gravelly, desperate voice.

“Right,” Buffy agreed, nodding vigorously and swinging her sword over her shoulder.

He recovered from his stupor slightly now that the stimulus had been removed and handed her the lantern he’d removed from the chest. She held it with a shaky hand while he tried to light it with an even shakier one. Eventually, the flame shown brightly inside, however, and they both breathed a sigh of relief. Holding hands in the dark was…not exactly the best idea given either’s current state of mind.

“Let’s go then,” he said briskly, leading the way into the tunnels and setting a fast pace that wouldn’t allow her to start up any embarrassing conversations.

Buffy didn’t object in the slightest as she followed him through the winding corridors…

***

Buffy stood still for a minute, watching the opening of the cave.

“You OK?” Spike asked, standing right beside her and lending her his…well, not warmth…strength?

Whatever it was, it worked. She gripped the hilt of her sword more tightly and turned to him. “You realize how dangerous this could be if it’s in there…?”

“’ve always enjoyed a nice spot of danger in th’ evenin’,” he gave her that irascible smirk of his.

“OK,” she nodded, never tearing her eyes from him, “this is how it’s gonna work then. I’m going in first. I hug the left wall. You come in a few seconds behind me and stick to the right. Hopefully, nothing should be able to get past us then.”

“Sounds all right,” he agreed, dropping his cigarette and stamping it out with the toe of his boot. “That all then?”

Buffy gulped. “N-No,” she said in a suddenly shaky voice. “I don’t know if we’re going to make it, you know. I’m gonna do something really stupid…”

He shrugged. “’ve heard worse plans before,” he commented.

“That’s not the stupid thing,” she practically whispered.

He turned to look at her in confusion…and then surprise when she wrapped her arms around his neck and assaulted his lips with her own, pulling him down deeper into the kiss.

For a second he stood there too stunned to do anything, and then he found himself agreeing wholeheartedly with her ‘what the hell?’ attitude, and he returned her passion with everything he had, his eyelashes fluttering shut.

She moaned into his mouth when his arms slid around her, one hand slipping around her waist and the other holding the back of her head in order to increase the intensity of their kiss.

Lips parted simultaneously, tasting and biting soft lips. His tongue invaded her mouth first, exploring the warm, wet cavity before she joined it with her own.

As their mouths dueled, her hands roamed the expanse of muscle she’d been fantasizing about so often lately. One hand managed to sneak its way under the hem of his black T-shirt, reverently discovering that the strong muscles beneath felt even more marvelous than she’d ever imagined.

The tight grip about her waist pulled her body flush up against him, pressing soft curves up intimately against powerful steel. They reveled in each other’s strength, neither holding back their burning lust in the slightest.

Unfortunately, Buffy soon rediscovered the irritating need to breathe, and she pulled back almost as suddenly as she had jumped him.

They stood apart from each other for a minute, both panting heavily since Spike had apparently forgotten that he didn’t need to breathe, staring at each other in awe.

The same thought was flickering through both their minds at that moment: never, ever had they been burned so deeply to the core before. And if that was just from one kiss, what if…?

“See?” Buffy finally managed to speak between breaths. “That was very, very stupid.”

He nodded, still too stunned to speak.

“We…” she took a deep breath and centered herself at last, “we need to hunt this thing.”

“R-Right.”

“You OK?” she asked nervously.

A slow, seductive smile spread across his lips. “Oh, ‘m better’n OK, pet…” he purred.

She rolled her eyes. “Stop that,” she insisted. “I’m trying to do something serious here.”

And just like that, the familiar level of comfort between them returned.

“So ‘m I,” he teased.

She blushed. “There’s time for that later,” she promised softly. I can’t believe I just said that… “Right now we have to—”

“You first then,” he cut her off impatiently, gesturing to the cave.

She gave him a wry smile before taking the first step into the dark pit. Fortunately, it was light enough that she could see without the lantern, because she would have had a hard time carrying both it and her sword. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure Spike was following, impressed by how completely silently he moved.

Together, they slowly made their way deeper and deeper into the cavern. The steady dripping sound of several stalactites was the only thing disturbing the absolute quiet, and it grated on Buffy’s nerves, increasing the feeling of ominous portends.

Just ahead, the cavern widened, and Spike tapped her on the shoulder and gave her a questioning look.

She gestured that they should split up, and then gave him a solemn frown off of his quizzical look.

He finally nodded and shrugged and went in one direction while Buffy took the other. Only a little ways out, the cavern dropped off in an overhanging cliff. If it was here, one of them was bound to find it.

Buffy’s fingers turned white, she gripped the hilt of her sword so tightly. Any second now…

“Slayer! Help!”

Without thinking, Buffy turned back and ran toward the sound of Spike’s voice, moving at a blinding pace due to the adrenaline and fear. She got to the site of battle just after the first few blows had been exchanged.

The monster had Spike’s axe-head stuck firmly in its arm, but even so it didn’t seem slowed down in the slightest. It wrenched its arm back – axe and all – and swung at Spike with its other arm.

The vampire leapt back easily, but was forced to let go of the axe handle in the process.

A wide sweep of the creature’s arm, and the axe flew through the air, skittering to a halt across the cavern from them.

Before the monster had a chance to take another swipe and Spike, Buffy jabbed her sword right into its side.

It howled in pain and clawed the air wildly in her direction, but she just barely managed to avoid all of its blows.

Spike, meanwhile, tackled the creature from behind, fangs and glowing yellow eyes gleaming in the pale moonlight that filtered through the cave entrance.

The monster reared back, pulling itself free of Buffy’s sword and smashing Spike back against the cliff face in one motion.

The force was enough to stun Spike for just long enough for the creature to grab hold of him and fling him toward the cliff face.

Buffy had been prepared to strike the creature’s neck when she saw Spike go over.

“No!”

The cry pierced the eerie silence of the cavern, but Buffy was completely unaware of the fact. She dove over to the edge of the precipice, clutching at the air where Spike had just been wildly…

The monster took the opportunity to flee, unheeded by the two demon hunters.

All in all, it was a very strange experience. Buffy was quite certain her consciousness blacked out for a few seconds, mortal fear completely overcoming her.

And then, when she came back to herself, relief flooded her body at the feel of the cool hand caught firmly in hers.

“Little help here, pet?” Spike’s shaking voice echoed up from the chasm.

“I’ve got you,” Buffy insisted. “Just a second. It’s OK. I’ve got you.” She could feel their fingers slipping, and without hesitation she leaned further over the edge, reinforcing her grip with her other hand. “I’ve got you…” she repeated, whether for his benefit or her own not even she was sure.

“Can’t get a foothold anywhere,” Spike commented, a bit calmer now that he was no longer doomed to what would undoubtedly be the most painful fall of his unlife. “I think the cliff goes back right under the ledge.”

“It’s all right,” Buffy insisted, carefully pulling herself up to her knees. “I can…handle this…” She began to pull him up with all her strength.

Soon, his other hand had caught hold of the ledge, and with a triumphant little exclamation he pulled himself out of the chasm.

Buffy instantly cradled him in her arms and pulled him back against the safe wall of the cliff face, her body still trembling in terror.

Spike didn’t bother to hide the fact that he was shaking as well, and they slumped back into sitting positions against the sturdy wall behind them.

“S-Slayer?” he whispered, still captured tightly in her embrace.

“Spike?” she murmured into his hair, a little sigh of relief escaping her when his arms wrapped around her waist.

“Y-Y’know that really stupid thing you did earlier?” he reminded her.

“Yeah,” she smiled down at him fondly, and he turned his chin up to look at her, his eyes cold ebony in the blackness.

“Well, ‘m about to do something even stupider,” he said with a small smile. “Jus’ thought I should let you know…”

And with that, he was upon her.

She willingly slid back onto the cold stone floor of the cave, savoring the feel on his body on top of hers and his cool lips and tongue all over her face. She wound her fingers into his hair and pulled him down for another of those amazing, earth-shattering, time-stopping, why-on-earth-haven’t-we-ever-done-this-before kisses.

He moaned into her mouth and ground his hips down into hers.

She parted her legs in response, allowing him to slip in between, feeling his hardness pressed up roughly against her inner thigh.

His fingers were on the buttons of her blouse now, undoing them far, far too slowly. He tenderly caressed her heated flesh as it was exposed to his eyes, cupping a still-clothed breast with his other hand.

Buffy returned the favor, yanking his leather duster back off his shoulders. He pulled away for a second to toss it to the side, and she took the opportunity to run her hands up underneath his black tee, feeling the raw power beneath his smooth flesh pulse and tremble at her touch.

“Oh god, I want you…” she whimpered softly.

“Want you, too, luv,” he said, coming back in for another bruising kiss.

“Well, well, well,” a voice interrupted their feverish kisses. “Finally caught in the act…”

The both looked up in surprise to see Riley standing in the entranceway, the taser in his hands aimed straight at them. Behind him, Xander watched them with complete horror on his face, a crossbow dangling from one hand.

Riley’s eyes turned to ice as he watched the two of them still locked in their forbidden embrace. “I told you before, vampire,” he spit out the last word like it was a bad taste in his mouth, “you touch her, I was going to make you pay. Well, now seems just as good a time as any,” he hissed, his finger tightening on the trigger and firing…

CONTINUED...