Chapter Seventeen

“You win, luv.”

“Oh goodie,” she sighed contently. “So, what I get…?”

“Well,” her Spike whispered into her ear, “there’s a wide choice of prizes…”

“Hmmm,” she nuzzled his throat lightly and smiled at the soft purr that sent his whole body vibrating. “Do I get to see my choices?” She gestured to the silk scarf that was still tied around her eyes.

It fell away immediately, and she took it from past Spike, wrapping the fabric around her fingers and admiring the smooth, coolness of it…not that she didn’t have other smooth, cool things to admire at the moment…

“What do you want, pet?” past Spike asked, grinding his erection against her from behind.

“It seems such a shame,” Buffy was still fingering the cloth in her hands, “that all this time no one’s managed to get tied up yet…”

“You want us to tie you up, Slayer?” past Spike whispered.

“Or do you want to tie us up?” her Spike finished.

Her brow furrowed for a minute at the difficult decision. Then a look of enlightenment passed across her face. “We’ve got plenty of time still,” she said wisely. “Why not do both?”

“I knew there was a reason I loved you so much,” her Spike flashed her a wide grin.

She actually managed to smile back. This light-hearted love was still a little bit strange to her. After all, most of her romantic experiences had consisted of pure pain and angst. But she kind of liked what Spike was offering her now. It wasn’t too serious or overwhelming…it just was. And it was fun…

“Go get the chains,” she instructed him with mock-sternness.

“Yes, ma’am.” He flashed her a little salute and leaned over the bed to begin searching around under it.

“You keep chains under the bed?” Buffy asked in disbelief.

“Where else would you need them?” past Spike defended his future counterpart.

“Good point,” Buffy conceded.

“Aha!” Her Spike returned triumphantly with several sets of handcuffs. “So, pet,” he said in a husky whisper, “who goes first?”

Buffy took one of the pairs of handcuffs from him and turned the metal over in her hands thoughtfully. “I think…” she began slowly, “…that I should lock up the troublemakers first…”

With lightning-quick reflexes she snapped one cuff over past Spike’s wrist where his hand was cleverly sneaking its way between her thighs.

“Naughty, naughty,” she chided teasingly, pulling both his arms up over his head and cuffing them securely against the headboard.

Beneath her he growled in anticipation, the vibrations of his chest sending twinges of desire right to her clit.

“There’re those Slayer reflexes we’ve been hearin’ so much about,” her Spike commented, sliding up beside her and gently running his fingers through her short, blond hair.

Buffy gave him a coy little smile…and then pounced with a predator’s ferocity. Before he knew what had hit him, her Spike was chained up right alongside his past counterpart.

“Now,” Buffy said smugly, allowing her eyes to travel up and down the two naked bodies before her with undisguised delight, “is this the part where I threaten to feed you to each other unless you declare your undying love?”

Past Spike raised his eyebrow curiously.

Her Spike sulked. “That was a mistake,” he muttered under his breath.

Past Spike gave him an odd look.

“What?!” present Spike exclaimed defensively. “She was bein’ downright impossible ‘bout the whole thing…”

“Mmm-hmm,” Buffy giggled slightly. “I really was. And there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it now while I take my…revenge…” She leaned down and gave the tip of her Spike’s member a delicate lick - just enough to make his hard-on painful but not enough to give him any release.

“Please, Buffy…” he whimpered.

“Oh, I like that,” she gave him a catlike smile. “Keep it up.”

She blew lightly over his erection before backing away and crawling over to past Spike.

“No penalties for crimes not yet committed,” she winked before lowering herself slowly onto his full length.

The two of them moaned in unison, and then Buffy began to ride him hard and fast. Her inner muscles stretched to fit around him like a glove, and with each violent thrust of her hips, Buffy plunged him deeper and deeper within her slick channel.

“Oh, yesssss…” she hissed when his cock began banging against the entrance to her womb, hitting her most sensitive spot over and over and over again…

Her back arched with pleasure, and she splayed her hands across his bare chest, causing her breasts to stick out and bounce roughly with her rhythm.

It was agony for past Spike not to be able to touch the milky white mounds. It was even worse agony for her Spike not to be able to touch her at all and only to watch on as she climbed higher and higher to her peak…

“Spike!” she screamed, her nails clawing at his chest when the world finally exploded around her. The furrows were deep enough to draw blood.

The pain, and the smell, and the feel of her powerful muscles… It was too much for past Spike to bear. He came hard and fast, whimpering her name softly in his pleasure.

Buffy noticed with a satisfied little smile that he was now calling her ‘Buffy’ in their moments of passion together. It was nice to know that she had the power to so easily strip through all of past Spike’s anger and hatred. A little shiver went up her spine, and it wasn’t because of the chilled seed once again inside her…

“Buffy-luv…” her Spike’s moans finally pierced her lust-addled mind. “Please, baby… I need you so bad…”

His voice sounded truly wretched now, and he was breathing unnecessarily in sporadic little pants.

Buffy gave him her best evil smile. She wasn’t exactly good at the whole looking-evil thing, but her message reached Spike loud and clear. He let out a little whimper and shut his eyes tight, his brow furrowing with effort.

“Aw, there, there,” Buffy crawled up beside him and gave him a little pat on the head.

He managed a growl before the whimpers of need returned.

“Are you sorry, ‘pet’?” she teased him lightly.

“Very sorry,” he insisted. “Never been so sorry in my soddin’ life…”

“What a nice apology,” she commented, her fingers lightly caressing the smooth muscles of his abdomen. “And apologizing always brings nice rewards…”

Her hand finally slipped around his throbbing member, just holding it firmly for a few seconds while a deep sigh escaped his throat.

“That better, baby?” she whispered softly into his ear before taking his earlobe into her mouth.

“Much,” he nodded vigorously, his eyes still shut tight.

Her hand began to pump him up and down lazily. His hips rocked with her motion, encouraging her to pick up speed. She decided he’d have enough torture for now and complied, stroking him from base to tip, her fingers squeezing him just enough to bring him closer and closer to the edge…

“Look at me,” she said softly when she felt he was about to cum.

Stormy blue eyes fluttered open to stare right into hers. Another deep moan, and he was squirting into her hand, his face twisted with unbearable pleasure. Her free hand strayed to his cheek and cupped it as his came, making sure those beautiful eyes of his never left her face for a second.

When his orgasm had finally passed and he began falling into the blissful languid state, she slowly leaned forward to kiss him. His lips lazily responded to hers, and she kissed him deep and tenderly, her tongue re-discovering every inch of that irreverent mouth of his. It seemed speechless for once when she pulled away, though.

“I love the look on your face when you cum,” she told him softly. “I think it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Your eyes… It’s like I can see the love in them…” She bent down to kiss him again.

Foggily, Spike responded, his mind clinging desperately to one fact: she’d used the word ‘love’. True, it wasn’t an admission, but it was a good start…and more than he’d ever expected to hear.

“So,” Buffy commented, the light-hearted seductress once again, “now it’s your turn…”

She unlocked both sets of cuffs, and blinded by lust once again, the two vampires quickly tackled her to the bed.

“Got her!” past Spike commented gleefully, snapping the cuffs about her wrists.

Buffy gave them a few experimental tugs. She could probably break them if she really tried, but she really, really didn’t want to escape right now…

“What do you think?” her Spike said, giving her a little tongue waggle while he cleaned his stomach off with a cloth.

“I’ll take the high road…” past Spike began.

“An’ I’ve got the low,” her Spike agreed.

Buffy quickly lost track of him, however, because soon a sweet, juicy vampire cock was right there in front of her, just ripe for the tasting. She eagerly took past Spike into her mouth all the way. The soft tip of him tickled the back of her throat, but she didn’t mind in the slightest.

He was slightly warmed up now from having been inside her heat, and remnants of their combined juices coated him still. It all made him taste just like a melting popsicle. She licked and sucked, her tongue tracing over every vein it could find.

He moaned and clutched his fingers in her hair but didn’t thrust down into her. She felt as if she could scream. Her hands wanted so badly to just clutch at that firm ass of his and pump him in an out of her mouth with blinding speed…

All thoughts abruptly cleared from her mind and her eyes opened wide when her Spike finally made his presence known again.

A light gentle lick teased her sensitive clit. The pleasure center had long since felt like it had been rubbed raw, but Spike’s tongue was soothing, so cool and tender…

She managed to moan around past Spike’s cock and began licking at him with newfound intensity. He took her signal and began fucking her mouth slowly. She let her teeth lightly scrape him from tip to hilt with each of his out strokes, and he let out a roar of satisfaction and began pounding into her without mercy.

Meanwhile, her Spike’s tongue was exploring her folds with excruciating attention to detail. He gave her a long, slow lick from clit to ass before parting her outer layers. He traced her outline slowly and meticulously, giving extra special attention to any place that caused her an extra shiver of anticipation.

Frantically, she bucked her hips upwards at him, but he held her firmly in place, never picking up his pace.

He was circling her inner folds now, coming ever closer and closer to her quivering channel. Every nerve he struck seemed as though it were on fire, and Buffy dazedly realized that she was about to cum even though he hadn’t even entered her yet.

At that moment, she felt past Spike’s balls clench against her chin, and he came hard in her mouth, once again screaming her name.

It was at that moment that her Spike finally plunged his tongue deep into her hole. Her scream of ecstasy was muffled by past Spike’s chilled seed, but her body still trembled about the other vampire’s tongue, allowing him to lick up her inner juices.

“Oh, god!” past Spike cried out raggedly, rolling off of her and collapsing to the side. “So bloody good…”

Buffy smiled at him in a feline way and licked her lips to clean up any remaining semen that she hadn’t managed to swallow down. One drop of the milky liquid escaped her, and past Spike leaned over and almost tenderly licked it up.

He curled up beside her with a contented purr and released her wrists from the handcuffs.

She massaged her wrists a bit, surprised that they weren’t at all damaged by her violent thrashings.

That taken care of, she turned her attention to her Spike, who was lazily resting his head on her stomach, looking up at her with the most satisfied cat-who-ate-the-canary look she’d ever seen.

“Come up here,” she said, tangling his fingers with hers and pulling him up beside her.

He came gladly, tucking her head against his shoulder and wrapping one arm around her waist possessively.

“You make me feel so good,” she whispered softly, stroking identically mussed peroxide locks with each hand. “Both of you…”

“’S a gift,” past Spike sighed, his hand playing with one of her hardened nipples.

“Takes lots of practice, luv,” her Spike agreed, his finger drawing random patterns on her stomach.

“Hmph!” She stuck out her lower lip, not at all liking the idea of him ‘practicing’ on other women for some reason…

“’S all about you now, kitten,” her Spike said soothingly, holding her tighter against him. “You know you’re the only one for me…”

“I know,” she looked up at him with languorous bedroom eyes. “Teach me something new,” she requested, her hand moving down to stroke his fine, alabaster chest.

“No problem,” her Spike closed his eyes at the wonderful sensations her hand was eliciting from his skin. “What do you think?” he asked past Spike. “169?”

“169,” past Spike nodded, sitting up.

“What’s 169?” Buffy asked curiously, watching the past vampire roll over so that he was now lying on the bed upside-down.

“You’ve heard of 69?” past Spike queried, holding out one hand to her.

“More than heard of it…” She gave her Spike a sly little smile at the memory.

“Take the lead then, luv,” past Spike guided her on top of him.

She spread her legs wide and allowed her inner folds to rest directly above his mouth. Slowly, his tongue began to probe her with that extraordinary skill that only he - or they, to be more specific - had ever used on her.

She let out a few contented sighs before she leaned forward to give his length a good, long lick. A drop of precum had formed at the tip of him, and she flicked it right up, rolling the taste around her mouth.

“Mmm…” she murmured, “69. So what’s with the one?”

“What do you think, pet?” her Spike crawled over to them and raised himself up so that he could lie on her back.

“Gotcha,” she said with a little smile. “169.” Then she returned to the ever-important task of pleasuring past Spike.

Her body tensed in anticipation and her mouth slowed its motions when she felt her Spike beginning to gently stretch her ass hole out again. Luckily, her muscles back there were getting pretty limber, and she didn’t have long to wait before he slowly slid inside her, filling her inch by agonizing inch.

“You got me, pet?” he asked, his voice deep and ragged when he finally plunged the entire way inside of her.

She nodded vigorously, causing her mouth to bob up and down on past Spike’s cock and making him moan deep inside her. The feel of his breath against her innermost folds sent electric jolts all throughout her core.

Slowly, the three of them began to move in time together. Soft grunts and moans echoed throughout the lower level of the crypt.

Buffy’s body was ablaze, the feel of Spikes impaling her in every way imaginable dizzying in its intensity. She was always astonished at just how good he tasted. If her blood was nectar to vampires, then she’d accidentally just discovered what the Slayer’s nectar was…

Apparently, past Spike agreed with her because his tongue was finding new and inventive ways to curl deep inside her, searching out all her pleasure points and then teasing them all to the brink of orgasm.

And then there was her Spike…

His strokes were fast and deep now, causing her entire body to rock with the intensity of them. His mouth had found the back of her shoulder, and he was licking and nibbling at the bite mark he’d left there earlier…the first she’d ever let him give her…

Buffy suddenly realized that there was just one more thing she needed to be complete. She already had both cocks inside, but just one mouth…

“Do it,” she whispered out her outstroke of past Spike. “Make me yours again…”

A gentle lick over the mark he’d made there, and then she felt his features shift against her back. The moment sharp fangs pierced her shoulder deep and hard, she came. She felt the two vampires falling with her over a precipice. The exhilaration was thousands of times better than any roller coaster fall, because it just kept going and going and going…

With an exhausted sigh, Buffy finally collapsed. She felt her Spike land on top of her, his fangs and cock finally slipping out of her. He moaned slightly and then rolled to the side, pulling her with him.

And once again, Buffy felt into a deep, contented sleep, nestled between two Buffy-warmed vampire bodies. Nope, life definitely didn’t get any better than this…

* * *

“What do you mean, they escaped?!” Xander began panicking.

“I mean,” Anya said calmly and matter-of-factly, “that they seem to have walked out the back way. And they took the pommel horse with them.” She frowned slightly. “If the Council didn’t reimburse us for training equipment expenses, I’d be very concerned right about now…”

“We have to go get Buffy!” Xander insisted. “Who knows what those three are up to?”

“Buffy’s still at Spike’s,” Dawn commented off-handedly, looking up from her weekend’s homework. “She stayed there last night…”

Xander’s eyes widened, and he put his hands over his ears.

Dawn and Anya shared identical eye rolls and head shakes.

“So,” Xander said, recovering from that horrible place his mind had just been, “we absolutely, positively have to not go get Buffy and wait till she comes here!”

Double Spiked (continued)

Chapter Eighteen

Buffy awoke to the feel of a long, cool cock slipping inside her. She let out a little murmur of appreciation and wrapped her leg back around past Spike’s thigh. Neither of them was in a hurry, still drowsy from their naps, and they rocked together slowly, allowing the pleasure to creep up upon them.

Buffy sighed when he hand reached around her to cup her breast. He lightly teased her tender mounds, sending her rocking over the edge.

“Spike…” His name was a mere whisper on her lips as a soul-satisfying climax surged through her.

Behind her, past Spike gasped at the way she squeezed him rhythmically, and his seed squirted deep within her in short, even bursts.

“Mmm…” he purred into the back of her shoulder, his eyes still tightly closed.

“Evenin’, luv.”

Buffy opened her eyes to see that her Spike was also stirring in front of her. She leaned forward to give him a quick wake up kiss.

“What time is it?” he asked, running his fingers through his disheveled platinum hair.

“Almost five-thirty,” she informed him, looking over his shoulder at the clock. “I guess that means we have to go soon…” She gave him a disappointed little pout.

“Scooby meeting awaits,” he agreed. “Oi, mate,” he turned his attention to past Spike, “you might want to take a shower. The smell an’ all…”

“Right,” past Spike got up, stretching like a great cat as he did so. “Which way?”

Her Spike pointed down a little nook in the wall, and past Spike padded off in search of the shower. It wasn’t long before they heard water running.

“You have a shower?!” Buffy exclaimed in disbelief.

“Nothin’ fancy,” he shrugged. “Jus’ a pipe in the wall, really…”

“I don’t suppose I could borrow it afterwards…?” she asked, feeling the stickiness between her legs. There was way too much vampire cum there for comfortable walking.

“Sure thing, luv,” he whispered, pulling her closer to him. “How’re you feelin’ this mornin’?”

“A little sore,” she winced slightly when she moved into his arms, “and a little chaffed…”

He gave her a shy little smile. “Feelin’ a bit achy myself, pet…but in a good way.”

“A very good way,” she returned his smile and pushed a few of his wild curls back into place.

She flinched a bit at the twinging in her shoulder.

“Here, let me help,” he said instantly.

She gratefully let him push her down onto her stomach and sighed in relief when his skilled hands began to knead away all the tension in her muscles.

“You make me feel so good…” she sighed softly.

He bent forward and gave the bite mark on her shoulder a light kiss. She shivered at his touch, but he didn’t pursue her arousal, instead continuing to give her the most delightful massage she’d ever had.

By the time he flipped her onto her back, her entire body had turned to jelly at his touch. She half expected him to crawl on top of her and ravish her - and half hoped as well - but he continued on in a purely professional manner, working on her inner thighs and helping to relieve some of the pain there.

“Better?” he finally asked.

“Mmm-hmm,” she agreed, lying back luxuriously against the pillows.

In the background, they heard the water turn off.

“Think I got the Slayer smell off…” past Spike commented, walking in on their relaxation time. He cocked his head curiously at the self-satisfied smile on present Spike’s face and the look of lazy contentment on Buffy’s.

“C’mon, luv. Shower’s open.”

Buffy reluctantly let her Spike pull her up to her feet. She didn’t even think to protest when he entered the small nook with her and turned on the water.

She squealed at the chill of the water, but soon grew accustomed to it.

In the meantime, Spike had lathered up her body with a bar of soap that was obviously stolen from a motel room. She rested her hands lightly on his shoulders, holding herself up, as he carefully cleaned up all the remnants on her thighs. His hands found their way to her rough curls but kept to their task, rubbing the white foam into her skin.

She whimpered at the touch of his hands and clutched him tighter. However, he merely moved on to wash himself off, much more quickly and roughly than he’d been with her.

She rinsed her body clean, and he soon joined her under the spray.

“No fair,” she finally whimpered when he began to rub shampoo - also stolen from a motel - into her hair.

“What’s no fair, pet?” he asked, his fingers gently massaging her scalp and getting out all the grime that had accumulated over the past day.

“You get to feel me up, but I don’t get to touch you,” she pouted.

“You wanna touch me,” he gave her his trademark smirk, “there’s nothin’ stoppin’ you, ducks.”

For perhaps the first time ever, that smirk didn’t make her just want to slap him silly. In fact, she found herself blushing terribly while laughing slightly in amusement at the same time.

Her hands took the opportunity given them and strayed all over his chest while he religiously followed one of the most sacred laws of civilized society: lather, rinse, repeat.

She finally backed off and threw her head back, allowing the cool water to wash out the last of the soap and slick her hair back at the same time. By the time she came up for air, he was pouring another dab of shampoo into his hand.

“Can I?” she asked, suddenly feeling oddly shy.

He looked up at her in surprise and then handed her the shampoo. “Sure, luv,” he agreed.

She eagerly scrubbed the suds into his silvery-white locks. He purred deep in his throat when her nails raked through his hair, cleaning out all the sweat and gel.

“I love your hair,” Buffy commented absentmindedly when he rinsed for the final time. “It’s so white and silky…”

He ducked his head sheepishly and muttered something poncy and Williamish, he was sure. In all truth, he conscious mind was otherwise occupied by the fact that she’d just said the l-word to him for the second time. This was remarkable progress…

“Mmm…” Buffy pulled him into a gentle embrace and stroked his clean hair rhythmically. “I don’t want to get out…”

He sighed and let his head rest against her shoulder for a minute, enjoying the feel of her pressed against him so intimately…

“I know, luv,” he finally said and backed away from her, shutting off the water, “but we’ve got important things to do.”

They made their way back to the main bedroom to find past Spike half-dressed and rubbing a towel roughly through his still damp peroxide locks.

“Here,” her Spike wrapped a fluffy white towel of the sort she’d never have expected him to have around her shoulders. She wondered whether it was also stolen from a motel room. “We’d best dry off an’ get dressed now,” he gave her a reluctant smile before he covered up that wonderful, slick body on his up with another towel.

* * *

“I keep telling you,” Anya said in exasperation, “they’re held up by the hot, sweaty sex. They’re not going to be here anytime soon.”

“Ack!” Xander exclaimed, clapping his hands over his ears. “I’m not listening. La la la la la…”

Dawn rolled her eyes. “And they treat me like the kid,” she mumbled under her breath before snatching up another slice of pizza.

“Maybe I could do a tracking spell or-” Willow paused in mid-sentence and gave Tara a sheepish look. “No spells,” she reminded herself for the umpteenth time.

Tara gave her a reassuring little smile. “I’m sure they’ll be here,” she addressed the group. “Sunset was just half an hour ago. They’re probably just not in a hurry ‘cause they don’t know-”

“Don’t know what?” Buffy asked, walking in the door right at that second. “Oh, pizza!” she squealed in delight and practically dove into the food.

“Jeez, pig much?” Dawn watched her sister wolf down an entire slice of pepperoni in three seconds flat.

“Yeah, she already downed about a month’s supply of Wheetabix,” Spike agreed from the doorway, taking out a cigarette and rolling it between his lips.

“And that stuff is nasty,” Buffy retorted through a mouth-full of cheese. “How can you eat that crap?”

“Tastes good with blood,” the other Spike commented, sitting on the counter beside his duplicate.

“Uh…” Xander looked nervously back and forth between the two to them. “Which is the one that can rip my throat out?” he asked worriedly.

“Forget about that,” Willow cut him off. “Buffy, we have a problem.”

“Oh?” Buffy was on her third slice by now. Who knew that entertaining two Spikes would take so much energy?

“We’ve had a nerd break-out,” Willow nodded seriously.

“And they stole the pommel horse,” Anya added, irritated. “The Watchers’ Council will reimburse you for that, right?” she continued anxiously. “And they’ll pay to have the scuff marks it left behind polished up, and-”

“Ahn,” Xander cut her off before she began drawing up more damage reports and stuffing them in Buffy’s face.

“What do you mean, they broke out?” Buffy asked in disbelief.

“They snuck out the back way some time between the post-lunch dash and closing time,” Anya clarified perkily enough. “Is it OK if I ask about your orgasms now?”

“No!” everyone exclaimed in perfect unison.

“Fine,” Anya sulked under her breath. “Just trying to discuss things we’ve got in common, is all. See if I care that I never make any friends…”

“Do we know where they went?” Buffy wearily asked Willow.

The redhead shook her head. “Sorry, Buffy. We could try to track them down…” The open-ended statement made it perfectly clear that doing so would be extremely difficult.

Buffy shook her head. “We have more important matters to worry about right now. Besides, I doubt they’re up to anything so soon anyway…”

* * *

“Ow!” Andrew exclaimed. “You did that on purpose, you penis!”

“Did not!” Jonathan retorted maturely. “You’d be fine if you just quit squirming.”

“Ow!” Warren suddenly exclaimed. “That’s it. Give me that.”

“No,” Jonathan tried to pull away from him. “You’re going to hit my thumb again.”

“Am not!” Warren countered. “Ha! Got it!” he exclaimed in delight when he managed to pry the hammer out of Jonathan’s fingers. “Now, I’ll show you how it’s done…”

“Ow!” Andrew cried out again when the backlash of the hammer hit him in the elbow. “That hurts!”

“Give it back to me,” Jonathan insisted.

“No,” Warren wiggled about on the floor so that the hammer was far from Jonathan’s grasp.

“Hey, guys,” Andrew commented.

“Gimme!” Jonathan repeated.

“No!” Warren stuck out his tongue.

“Guys…” Andrew persisted in trying to get their attention.

“Gimme!”

“No!”

“Gimme!”

“No!”

“Guys!” Andrew finally had to shout to be heard.

“Yeah?” Warren and Jonathan looked at him curiously.

“Well,” he began nervously, “I don’t think that hammer is ever going to break these chains…”

“Sure, it will,” Warren insisted.

“No, it won’t,” Andrew rolled his eyes. “And even if it does, wouldn’t using the welding torch be faster?”

Warren and Jonathan blinked.

“All right, where did I leave the torch?” Warren asked, scanning their basement lair and discovering nothing but junk.

“I think it might be under the couch,” Jonathan commented.

“No, it’s on top of the fridge,” Andrew said.

“I bet it’s under the plans on the desk,” Warren put in his own two cents.

“So,” Jonathan said, “let’s get it.”

They all dove for their respective guesses as to the mystery location at the same time. After about one foot, they’d reached the limits of the chains and were all sent flying back to the center.

“Ow!” Andrew said again when his head collided with the pommel horse. “What are we going to do with this thing anyway?”

“Forget about it,” Warren said. “We need to find that torch. Desk first this time, people.”

“Right.”

* * *

“So you can send past Spike back to where he came from?” Buffy tried to summarize the excessive magical gibberish that had just been thrown at her by the two overly-enthusiastic Wiccas.

“Definitely,” Tara nodded eagerly. “But…”

“There’s a ‘but’?” Buffy winced slightly in anticipation.

“Not a magical ‘but’,” Willow hastily amended. “More like a ‘oh no, we messed up the universe’ ‘but’.”

“Do I even want to know?” Buffy asked sarcastically, nibbling at the last slice of pizza.

“The problem is that past Spike remembers everything from this time,” Anya decided to stop all the dramatic pauses and omens of doom before they damped her mood. “If he goes back, he’ll know everything that happens in the future, and it will completely ruin the timeline so that this might never exist. In fact…” she began warming to her subject, “maybe it will change things so that I never lose my powers.” A little smile brightened up her face before it fell. “But then I would never have met Xander, and I would miss out on many, many pleasing orgasms…”

“Such a tragedy that would be,” present Spike mumbled under his breath.

“You’re right,” Anya agreed with him solemnly, completely missing the sarcasm in his tone. “We just have to do the other spell, too, then.”

“ ‘Other spell’?” Buffy raised an eyebrow.

“Er…yeah…” Willow’s face turned a bit red. “You remember that Tabula Rasa spell I did?”

“The one that nearly got us killed because we couldn’t remember how to kill vampires?” Buffy was not liking this idea one bit.

“We think we need to cast it on past Spike before we send him back,” Tara said apologetically. “I-I’ll be very careful, b-but we need to erase all his memories of this.”

“Hold on there a minute!” past Spike suddenly leapt up from his position on the counter. “’m not havin’ any Witches messin’ around with my head.”

“’S my head, too,” present Spike agreed, his eyes narrowing. “Goin’ through that once was bad enough…”

“I won’t cast it if you don’t agree to it,” Tara hastily amended.

“Well, I don’t,” past Spike crossed his arms in front of himself defensively.

“But then we can’t send him back,” Willow said in dismay. “We have no idea what kinds of problems this could cause…”

“I’m not doing it without permission,” Tara repeated.

“I-I know,” Willow gulped slightly at the accusing looks she was getting, “and you’re absolutely right in doing that, but…”

Buffy sighed when she realized they’d reached an impasse. “Can I talk to you?” she gestured to past Spike and the training room.

Past Spike quirked an eyebrow her way.

So did her Spike.

“Alone,” Buffy clarified, giving her lover an apologetic smile.

Past Spike shrugged and trudged over the training room, eyeing the two Wiccas warily.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Buffy said softly before turning to follow, “but I’d recommend trying to come up with a back-up plan…”

Chapter Nineteen

Past Spike watched Buffy pace up and down the training room curiously. Every time she spun to face him she would open her mouth to speak, then close it and start pacing again. Three or four repetitions of this pattern and he finally lost whatever it was in him that sometimes tried to imitate patience.

“Wha’s the problem, Slayer?” he asked, an eyebrow raised in inquiry.

Buffy let out a long sigh. “I don’t even know where to begin.” She put one hand to her temple. “Do you still want to go back?” she finally asked.

“’Course.” He lit up a cigarette and took a deep drag.

“And you want to go back still remembering everything that’s happened here?” she persisted.

His brow furrowed for a second at this difficulty before he shrugged. “’m not havin’ your Witch friends playin’ with my head.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Buffy gave him a scrutinizing stare.

“Oh?”

“No,” she shook her head. “Look at it this way: suppose Willow and Tara come up with some other way to block out your memories of this time, a serum or something non-magical, would you be willing to have your memories erased before you went back?”

He took several deep drags on his cigarette, obviously thinking deeply about her question. “I don’t particularly want to forget all this,” he finally said, gesturing to the room around them with his cigarette.

Buffy groaned. “We have a problem then,” she explained. “We have to send you back in time: you want to go back, and I think you should go back, and the universe could get seriously messed up if you don’t…”

“Not arguin’ with this part, pet,” past Spike interrupted her.

“Good,” Buffy said. “So let’s accept it as fact that you’re going back.”

“All right.” Spike seemed more than a little bit amused at her logical reasoning process and leaned back against the wall, a slight smirk on his lips.

“So now,” Buffy went on, “one of two things happens: you still have all your memories or you don’t.”

“I-”

“I know what you think,” she cut him off. “We’re just looking at this from an abstract point of view.”

He nodded for her to continue.

“For now, let’s assume you go back the way you are now, with all your memories intact. Where do you go back to? Are you out on a hunt or in the warehouse with Dru or-?”

“Last one. Warehouse with Dru,” he provided.

“OK,” Buffy went on, “so you’re suddenly transported back into the warehouse with Drusilla. You’re going to see her again and…what? Lie? Pretend none of this happened?”

“Well…” His brow furrowed.

“Do you really think she’ll buy that?” Buffy demanded. “She is psychic, after all. And - to tell the truth - you’re really not that great of a liar.” She stopped him with a gesture before he could speak. “Or maybe you do tell her the truth. You love her after all.”

“Damn right, I do,” he grumbled under his breath.

“So, either you’re doing a really poor job at keeping this secret or Drusilla finds out about it. What happens then?” she demanded.

“Nothin’ good,” Spike agreed.

“Right. You fight or you have a falling out or something weird happens that never happened in this universe. You change things,” she concluded.

“What do I care?” he shrugged.

“Well, Drusilla’s probably going to break up with you on the spot,” Buffy said. “Take my word on it: when it comes to matters involving you and me, she’s even less level-headed than usual - and that’s saying something. So now things are all wrong. If you’re not there, Drusilla’s probably never going to get her cure. Your life will be permanently changed.”

“I could still cure her,” Spike insisted, “find a way to work things out between us…”

“Kill me if you have to?” Buffy demanded.

He did some high-quality hemming and hawing.

“Suppose you do,” Buffy shrugged. “Suppose I’m dead, and Drusilla’s saved, and she forgives you, and the two of you run off happily ever after. Sound good?”

“Better’n anything ‘ve heard in a long time…”

“But it’s not,” Buffy insisted. “Not really. That’s not how it’s supposed to happen.”

“Who cares ‘bout what’s s’posed to happen?” he countered.

“You should, for one,” she pointed out. “In the next four years you will be pivotally involved in averting two Apocalypses. If you change, what’s to say that the world won’t end?”

He had a sullen scowl on his face now.

“Is this world that bad?” Buffy pressed gently.

He sighed. “It has it’s…benefits…” A rakish leer accompanied the last word, and he looked her up and down hungrily.

“ ‘Benefits’ worthwhile enough to save it?” Buffy took a step closer to him.

“Maybe,” he conceded, his nostrils flaring to pick up the lingering scent of her arousal.

“Then you really don’t want to do anything to mess up this timeline,” she concluded.

A weary sigh. “S’pose I don’t?” he finally admitted.

“Well, then we’re going to have to do whatever we can to prevent this incident from having any impact,” she informed him.

“Couldn’t you jus’ tell what ‘m going to do?” he asked.

Buffy considered this thoughtfully. “Maybe…” she finally said slowly. “The Spike in this time could try to give you a run-through of everything important he’s done in the past few years. That might be enough to prevent things from being altered too much… But we really don’t know. It could turn out that some person he killed in a drunken stupor two years ago would have become the next Hitler and destroyed the planet in a nuclear holocaust.”

“Or he could have not killed your future Hitler because o’ the events that happened in this timeline, an’ if I go back different I might change things by random luck,” he retorted.

“You’re right,” she agreed. “We don’t know what the consequences of our actions will be for certain, no matter what we do. But I can pretty much guarantee you that the world will be OK for at least four years if things happen the way they did.”

“So ‘ll do what he tells me,” past Spike insisted. “I’ll keep things ‘s close to the same as I can.”

“You’ll try,” Buffy assured him. “But it will be hard…impossible, really. I won’t lie. Some really bad things are going to happen to you over the next few years. Do you really think you could willingly and knowingly let the Initiative capture you and run experiments on you?”

He let out a deep sigh. “No,” he finally agreed.

“No Initiative means no chip, which means no second alliance, which means no friendship, no fighting Glory, no…sex,” she blushed a bit. “Everything’s already different.”

“So ‘ll suck it up an’ do it then,” he clung desperately to his plan. “I can keep things the same…”

“The same,” Buffy said seriously. “I hate to break it to you, but the Spike in this time doesn’t remember this ever happening. Just remembering these events is not the same.”

“You’re asking to slice out a section of my life…er, unlife!” he protested. “You want to sacrifice me to fix your precious world. Well, ‘m not lettin’ you steal a part of me!”

“I know what I’m asking,” Buffy smiled apologetically, “but we wouldn’t have to destroy everything that’s happened here, wipe it out completely. We’d just be…borrowing a part of you for a few years. Eventually you could get it all back, if you wanted to.”

“What do you mean?” he looked at her curiously.

“I’m willing to bet that Will and Tara will be able to find a way to return all these memories to my Spike once this is all over,” she said confidently. “You could get your memories back then.”

He closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger in a way that was strangely reminiscent of Giles.

“Think about what he would want,” Buffy advised him. “What makes him happy will eventually make you happy…”

“He’d be willing to this, wouldn’t he?” past Spike finally decided.

Buffy nodded. “You can ask him yourself if you want, but I know that he would.”

“So nice to know…” he said sarcastically.

“Hey, there,” Buffy stepped right up to him and toyed with the lapels of his leather duster. “This is hard, I know. You’re going to go through a lot of pain if you make this choice. And I can’t really promise that everything will turn out all right even if you do, but…”

“But?” His hand reached up, seemingly of its own volition, and brushed aside a golden lock of her hair.

“But I can try to make him happy…I can try to make you happy…” she finally concluded, her face bright red now.

“Buffy?”

Her name still sounded strange coming from his lips.

“Hmm?” She tilted her head to look up at him.

“How do you really feel about me?” he demanded. “About him?”

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “Or, I do, but I’m not ready to discuss it yet…even with you or him. But…he makes me happy. And I think I’m finally ready to give it my best shot.”

“You’re an amazing woman, you know that, luv?” He cupped her chin with his palm. “Strong, intelligent, brave, beautiful… It’s no wonder that he loves you.”

She leaned in a bit closer to him, sliding her arms around his waist. “You’re all those things, too,” she whispered, “if you’re willing to let yourself be…”

The kiss was softer than any she’d shared with the past vampire before. In that instant, when their tongues made tender love to each other, she was so sure that this was really her Spike and not the other.

He pulled away all too soon, leaving her breathless and panting heavily against his chest.

“You really think I should do it?” he asked, his words tickling her hair.

“I do,” she agreed. “The world needs you to, and I need you to, and maybe you don’t realize it yet but you need you to, too…and, woah, did that turn into one hell of a tongue twister! Try saying that five times fast.”

“You need you to, too; you need tyou tyou tyou… OK, I give up,” he joked lightly.

“We all need you to make this sacrifice, Spike,” she added seriously. “Only you can do this.”

“What makes you think I’m such a hero, Slayer?” he asked curiously.

“I just know,” she replied softly before their lips met again…

* * *

“I still think we should just stake them both and be done with it,” Xander sulked, scowling at Spike when he stole a handful of Doritos out of his bag.

“Brilliant grasp o’ the issues here, Harris,” Spike gave him a dirty look.

“I still say it’s a thrall,” Xander crossed his arms in front of himself.

“And I still say you’re jus’ a jealous wanker,” Spike mirrored his position.

“Evil Undead.”

“Whelp.”

“Captain Peroxide.”

“Oh, Useless One.”

“Crazy Stalker Guy.”

“Fairy Ponce.”

“I am not gay!” Xander finally exclaimed. “Where do you keep getting this bizarre idea that I’m gay?”

“Who was tying who up next to the bed again, mate?” Spike flashed him a suggestive smirk.

“I’m not the one who paints his nails,” Xander insisted.

“Hey!” Willow objected. “Oz painted his nails, too. And what’s with all the gay-bashing all of a sudden, anyway?"”

“Not gay-bashing!” Xander quickly began backtracking like crazy. “Just…asserting my heterosexual manliness.”

“What little of it there is,” Spike grumbled just loudly enough for Xander to hear.

“Excuse me-!” Xander began.

“This is boring,” Anya cut him off before he could continue. “I mean, I enjoy sexy displays of testosterone as much as the next girl, but this is just dull. Shouldn’t you two be wrestling or something?” Her eyes lit up. “Oh, in mud! And while naked, too! If they were naked, then we could compare penis sizes and determine for ourselves,” she informed Tara conspiratorially.

The shy Witch turned beet red and looked to Willow for help.

“Uh…Anya…” Willow desperately tried to end the current conversation.

“Sorry, I forgot,” Anya laughed and patted Tara’s shoulder apologetically. “You’re lesbians. You don’t care about penis size. Do you want to discuss breast size?”

“Huh?” Both Xander and Spike suddenly snapped to attention at the mention of the two words every male fantasizes about hearing women discuss: ‘breast size’.

Willow and Tara were both slowly inching away from Anya now in horror. Dawn’s jaw had practically dropped to the floor.

“Nibblet, why don’t you go see if there’s any blood in the fridge downstairs?” Spike suggested none-too-subtly.

Dawn took the opportunity to flee from the room.

“You don’t want to discuss breast size?” Anya asked, forlorn.

“Very much…” Xander managed to gasp out.

“Will you be doing any A-B comparisons?” Spike asked hopefully.

“Men!” Willow and Tara rolled their eyes in perfect unison and then began giggling.

Anya smiled brightly at the fact that she’d finally managed to start a conversation that so many people wanted to participate in.

“So, Spike,” she asked curiously, “do think that pert breasts are vital for a happy orgasm?”

He gave her a conspiratorial smile and signaled for her to come closer. She leaned forward curiously, and her eyes widened at what he whispered in her ear.

“What?!” Buffy had managed to enter the room just in time to hear that line out of context…not that it would have been much better in context. “Spike, what are you telling Anya?” she demanded.

The two of them leapt apart, trying desperately to hide that any conversation had occurred.

“Nothing!” he insisted, holding his hands up in front of himself defensively.

“Not since you interrupted…” Anya mumbled under her breath.

“And where do you get off talking dirty to my fiancée?!” Xander demanded of Spike, enraged.

“It was just a helpful suggestion,” Anya informed him.

“Yeah, right.” Xander gave Spike the Evil Eye Of Doom.

“Here.”

Much to Buffy’s horror, Anya repeated whatever Spike had said into Xander’s ear. A look of horror passed over Xander’s features at the source of the thought…and then in eager anticipation of how it could be adapted to their own situation…

“What?” Buffy demanded, glaring back and forth between the now-cuddling Xander and Anya, a satisfied-looking Spike, and Willow and Tara trying to vanish into the woodwork. She decided to put the brunt of her anger where it belonged: on Spike. “You were not just discussing the details of our sex life in front of my friends!” she exclaimed, outraged.

“’Course not!” Spike protested.

“Then what did you tell Anya?” Buffy demanded.

“Can’t tell you, luv,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Why not?” Buffy’s tone turned petulant. “You told her.”

“That was ‘Demon Talk’, pet,” he informed her. “Every bit as sacred as ‘Girl Talk’. Can’t reveal a thing…”

He was looking entirely too smug. Buffy yanked him up to his feet by the collar. If anything, that made him look more smug.

“Y-You arrogant, self-absorbed, stubborn pig!” she exclaimed.

“Can’t tell you now,” he purred in a sultry voice, “but I could always show you later…” He gave her a little tongue waggle.

“You wish!” Buffy snorted in disgust, gripping his lapels tighter and pulling him up so that his face was mere inches from hers.

“Xander, can we go have sex now?” Anya yanked at Xander’s sleeve, trying to lead him to the now-empty training room.

“Not now,” Xander waved her off, watching the pair in front of him intently. “They’re fighting!” He said this last part with complete and utter glee.

“Sorry if I got your hopes up, Xander,” Buffy released Spike sheepishly, “but this is a ‘we’re arguing but we’re really flirting’ fight, not a ‘we’re about to break up’ fight.”

Xander’s shoulders slumped. And then he turned to Anya. “All right, let’s go then…” he agreed, “er…and…do inventory,” he desperately tried to cover.

Everyone did their best not to notice when Xander and Anya practically ran into the back room.

“Is it safe to come out now?” a nervous voice asked from the basement.

Tara gave Spike and Buffy a critical eye. They were both sitting innocently beside each other on the couch. It looked like the coast was clear.

“It’s all right now,” the brunette Wiccan called to Dawn.

Dawn opened to door to the stairs a few seconds later with two warmed mugs of blood in her hands. She put one on the table in front of Spike and offered the other to past Spike.

“I thought you might want one, too,” she gave him her best puppy-dog eyes.

“Er…thanks.” He took the mug from her, ducking his head with embarrassment.

“You can lay off, Dawnie,” Buffy informed her. “He’s already agreed to undergo the spell.”

“R-Really?” Tara looked over at him in surprise.

“Sure,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “Jus’ watch that you don’t mess anythin’ up.”

“I’ll be careful,” Tara assured him.

“Well then,” Buffy said, ignoring the demanding looks her Spike was flashing at her, “it looks like it’s spell time…”

Chapter Twenty

“OK then,” Tara took a deep breath. “We’re going to have to do this very carefully.” She turned her attention to past Spike. “I’m going to cast two spells on you, OK?”

“Yeah?” he raised a scarred eyebrow.

She nodded. “First I’m going to do the Tabula Rasa. I’ll do the incantation, and then we have to wait a while until the crystal turns black. That’s when your memories will vanish. You with me so far?”

He nodded slightly, obviously more than a little nervous at the prospect.

“I’m going to try to time the Tempus Restitue spell so that it coincides exactly with the turning of the crystal,” she continued. “That way, you won’t have any lingering memories of the time between the two spells. If everything works out right, you should reappear from the exact time and place you were taken from with no memories of this time.”

“What about Dru?” past Spike asked curiously. “She was standin’ right by me when I got plucked away.”

“She shouldn’t be able to see that anything happened,” Tara said hesitantly. “Maybe just a bright flash or something…”

“Can you handle this all by yourself?” Buffy asked, concerned.

“Anya and I are going to link our energies together for this,” Tara explained. “Together, we should be able to pull together enough magic to make this work.”

“Which mean that Magicless Me gets to handle all the boring, logistical stuff for the spell,” Willow said, obviously somewhat disappointed that she couldn’t be included. She held up several papers in front on her. “Take one and gather the supplies on the list, people,” she said cheerfully. “It’ll be like a scavenger hunt! Only…with no prizes, and you’ll all know where everything is ‘cause you’ve all worked in the shop before…”

Dawn flashed her The Teenager Look and took the top sheet, heading back down into the basement to acquire the first item on her list. Buffy snatched another and practically ran for the incense section before her Spike could catch her.

He looked like he was about to go after when Willow pulled him aside. “I need to talk to you,” she informed him. “Both of you.”

The two Spikes raised identical scarred eyebrows at each other, shrugged simultaneously, and both plopped down in the vacated chairs at the table with perfect synchronicity.

“Woah, spooky,” Willow’s eyes widened before she shook it off. “Our job,” she began in that voice she had used back when she was teaching, “is to make sure that there’s nothing glaringly wrong about past Spike when we send him back.”

The two vampires exchanged amused glances at her manner.

“How do you mean, Red?” Present Spike pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

“Well, if something’s really obviously different about him when he goes back, it could trigger a memory and shatter the Tabula Rasa spell,” she explained. “Very bad.”

“So what do I do?” past Spike inquired.

“I’ve made a list,” Willow said cheerfully, holding up another sheet of paper. “First off: are those the clothes you were wearing when you first came here?”

“Yup,” past Spike replied.

“Check.” Willow drew a little check mark by item number one on her list. “Two: have you picked up any bruises or other injuries since you’ve been here?”

“Er…” Past Spike turned to present Spike for help.

“He has,” present Spike quickly said, “but ‘e’d just gotten out of a fight. Any new bruises could be explained by that.”

“Good enough,” Willow said to past Spike’s vigorous nod. “Three: do you have anything different with you now? Anything at all you might have picked up since coming here…”

Willow and present Spike watched past Spike search his pockets.

“Nope,” he finally said.

“Have you lost anything then?” Willow added.

“Nope,” he insisted.

“Five: have you eaten here more recently than you had in the past?”

The two Spikes exchanged nervous glances. It wasn’t so much when he’d eaten as what he’d eaten.

“We have to consult,” present Spike informed her, and the two briefly stepped outside to discuss the matter.

“Extra Slayer’s blood,” past Spike sighed. “Problem?”

“How much did you get?” present Spike asked.

“Not too much, but enough to make me stronger’n I should be…”

Present Spike looked thoughtful for a minute. “You did just almost defeat a Slayer,” he finally commented.

“Yeah,” past Spike shrugged.

“You won’t fight her in direct hand-to-hand for another couple o’ months… We’ve jus’ got to hope you don’t notice the sudden change,” he finally concluded.

“Smell?” past Spike inquired.

“Normal enough,” his future counterpart assured him. “It mixes in pretty well with the general ‘I’ve fed off Slayers’ smell.”

“We’re good then?”

“We’re good.”

Willow was waiting for them patiently inside.

“We’re hopin’ it’s close enough that he won’t notice,” present Spike confessed. “There’s nothin’ more we can do.”

“That’ll have to be good enough,” Willow agreed. “OK, last item, and I’m really proud of this one,” she said excitedly. “Do you have the same number of cigarettes now that you did when you came?”

“Oh crap,” past Spike pulled out his box of cigarettes, “not even close…”

“You’ll have to lend him some,” Willow informed present Spike.

The current vampire grumbled a bit and pulled out his own pack. “How many?” he demanded, annoyed.

“Six,” past Spike informed him.

Present Spike raised an eyebrow. “I know ‘ve seen you smoke more’n six,” he accused, eyes narrowed.

“So I ‘borrowed’ the pack by the bedside table,” past Spike defended himself. “Technically, they were mine anyway since ‘m you.”

Willow watched on mildly amused as much arguing and cursing ensued, during which they exchanged cigarettes.

“That it?” past Spike finally huffed, satisfied that he had the same amount he’d come in with.

“Not quite,” Willow said. “The thing is, there’s a bit of problem with the memory spell-”

“Problem?!” both Spikes gulped in unison.

“Not bad problem,” Willow hastily amended, “just something we have to do.”

They didn’t look at all reassured.

“Normally, when you do the spell, you just say the person’s name,” Willow continued, “but that’s kind of a problem since there’s two of you…”

“You are not givin’ me amnesia again!” present Spike objected.

“We’re not planning to,” Willow tried to calm him down. “What we need to do is find some object for the spell to focus on instead.”

“Object?” past Spike looked at her curiously.

“It has to be something that past Spike has that present Spike doesn’t,” she clarified, “a way for the spell to distinguish the two of you. And the more personal the item, the better.”

This led to an interesting process whereby the two Spikes began comparing everything on their persons, trying to find a significant difference. Willow gathered the items Buffy, Dawn, Tara…and a newly returned Xander and Anya were collecting while the two vampires worked it out.

“Ha!” past Spike finally handed her a bottle of black polish triumphantly.

“That’s good,” Willow said excitedly.

“Come, help me set up the candles,” Tara pulled her away from the two vampires.

“Wow, that’s a lot of candles.” Buffy watched the two of them set everything up. “Very…black, too.”

“It’s always about the black candles,” Anya complained. “And they all smell terrible, too. I mean, ugh! Opium? Who wants to smell that?”

“I like the smell of opium,” Dawn volunteered.

Several pairs of horrified eyes stared in her direction.

She rolled her eyes. “I meant the candles,” she sighed in exasperation. “Jeez, people! No, I’m not on drugs.”

Everyone began helping to put the circle together, fearful of catching the gaze of the now-annoyed teenager.

“Are we ready then?” Tara finally looked up from where Anya was drawing a chalk pentagram on the floor.

Willow nodded. “Everything’s a go.”

“You ready?” Buffy asked an increasingly nervous past Spike.

He nodded.

“Let’s begin then,” Tara extended her hand to him.

He took it and allowed himself to be led into the center of the pentagram.

“Sit,” Tara instructed, “and close your eyes.”

He looked to Buffy, and she gave him a little nod before he did so.

Willow lit the candles around the circle before Anya and Tara joined hands around Spike and sealed off the circle. An eerie wind passed through the room, causing the candles to flicker and everyone outside the circle to shiver.

Buffy felt her Spike wrap his coat around her shoulders and smiled up at him shyly when his hands lingered on her arms a bit longer than was absolutely necessary. She’d found - much to her surprise - that he didn’t seem too big on public displays of affection now that their secret was out. If anything, he touched her less around her friends now. She’d kind of nervously half-expected that he’d be shouting out to the world ‘lookee I bedded the Slayer!’, and it was nice to see that she had been wrong.

Tara and Anya had just cycled through a low Latin chant several times now. It was clear that Anya was deep in a magical trance, and Buffy could almost see the magical energy channeling into the young Witch.

It was at this point that Tara let go of one of Anya’s hands. The former vengeance demon seemed not to even notice. Tara picked up the bottle of nail polish and held it above the flame before her.

“I cast this spell for Spike, the owner of this talisman,” she said in a slow, hypnotizing drawl. “May the memories of this alien time be cast from his mind.” She slipped the nail polish into one of his pockets and picked up a clear crystal. “When the crystal turns black, the spell will be cast.” She waved it over the candle three times before taking up the bundle of herbs Willow had prepared for her and setting it ablaze.

“Tabula Rasa, Tabula Rasa, Tabula Rasa,” she intoned.

A magical eddy swirled around them and then dissipated.

“It is done,” a still half-entranced Tara informed past Spike. “I’m just waiting for the crystal to turn now…”

He watched intently along with everyone else as the clear stone slowly darkened. One nervous look was spared for Buffy, and she gave him an encouraging little smile, intertwining her fingers with her Spike’s.

“Close your eyes again,” Tara said when the crystal was reaching its deepest black.

He complied, and Tara gathered the energy once again, fueled by the still-entranced Anya.

“Janus, I beseech you,” Tara chanted once again, “restore what has been set awry.” She poured a liquid mixture over one of the candles beside her, quenching the flame. “Take that which has come to the end…” The candle on the other side of her got the same treatment “…And return it to the beginning.” She caught Anya’s free hand with hers, completing the circle around past Spike.

“Tempus Restitue!” she cried aloud, both her and Anya’s eyes opening wide in unison and flashing with power.

There was a blinding white light that caused everyone to blink. And when they opened their eyes again, past Spike was gone…

* * *

Sunnydale, 1997…

“Good-bye, my Spike. Have a pleasant trip, and come back to mommy soon,” Drusilla giggled.

“What are you talking about?” Spike turned to her, a slight frown marring his usually smooth brow.

He blinked suddenly when a white light overcame him for a second and wobbled a bit on his feet.

“I knew you’d come back to me, my Spike,” his mate cooed, slipping her arms around his waist and holding his head to her shoulder.

“What jus’ happened there, pet?” he asked, confused. “I felt all dizzy…”

“Shh,” she put one long, red nail to his lips. “It’s nothing for you to worry about,” she assured him. “What was will be, but now it is as it was…”

“’ave you been feedin’ off pot-heads again?” Spike demanded good-naturedly.

She let out a delighted peel of laughter and slid on hand up under his T-shirt. “Come to bed?” she asked with unusual shyness. “Let me make you mine once again…if only for a little while.”

“’m always yours,” he purred into her ear. “Always have been, always will be.”

“My poor, sweet Spike,” she smiled at him fondly, leading him to their bedroom, “if only it were so…”

* * *

“It is done.”

The magic in the room dissipated at Tara’s words, and she let go of Anya’s hands. The former vengeance demon blinked blearily a few times before accepting Xander’s hand and stepping out of the circle.

“Very cool,” Willow gave Tara a little congratulatory hug. “You did a great job controlling that. This is one very impressed Willow.”

Tara blushed and smiled, and their hug lingered for a few extra seconds.

“So it worked all right then?” Buffy asked anxiously. “He’s back home and safe?”

“Why don’t you ask him?” Tara joked lightly, gesturing to the vampire beside Buffy.

She turned to look at him, one hand on hip.

“Kind of a surreal night,” he shrugged, “but I still don’t remember anythin’ about bein’ flung into the future.”

“It worked out all right then,” Dawn said happily, “and now everything can go back to normal, right?” She fixed a pointed glare on her sister.

“I said I’d think about it,” Buffy informed her.

Dawn rolled her eyes and muttered about the hopelessness that was Buffy.

“S-Spike?” Tara caught the vampire’s attention. “Here.” She handed him the blackened crystal. “If you ever want your memories back, just break it,” she informed him. “You’ll get them back at the time when it’s broken, so it works out OK with the temporal spell and everything.”

“Thanks, Glinda.” He pocketed the crystal.

Everyone seemed not to know what to say for a while.

“We’re done now, right?” Anya demanded. “That means everyone should go. I have to be ready to open tomorrow morning. Xander, make everyone go away.”

Xander flashed everyone a sheepish smile. “Have to…um…clean up and…” he struggled for less brusque words.

“We’ll get out of your way, Xander, don’t worry,” Buffy smiled a bit at his nervousness. “C’mon,” she said, tugging at the sleeve of Spike’s duster and pulling him towards the door, “I haven’t patrolled in a couple of nights now. The vamps are probably painting the town red…literally.”

She frowned at the thought, and Spike held the door open for her as they stepped out.

“I guess we better be getting home, too, hey Dawnie?” Willow headed for the door.

“Bye, guys!” Dawn smiled and waved before heading home.

“You’re sure you don’t want me to stay and help?” Tara volunteered.

Anya waved her away. “We can take care of it,” she assured the Wicca. “Besides, I can’t discuss the things I want to discuss with Xander while you’re here…or so he tells me.”

Xander let out a nervous little laugh.

Tara gave him a knowing smile. “Bye, then,” she said, stepping out into the cool night.

“I’ll put away the candles,” Anya declared. “You clean up the chalk.”

Xander took the oft used cleaner and rag and washed up yet another magical circle.

“It’s going to hard for them,” Anya commented, placing the leftover herbs behind the counter.

“Huh? Who?” Xander finished his work.

“Buffy and Spike,” she clarified. “Now that the past Spike’s gone, they’re going to have to adjust all over again. Buffy will be used to getting twice as many orgasms, and Spike’ll have to pick up the slack.”

“W-What are you talking about?” Xander exclaimed in horror.

“I’m talking about Buffy having sex with both Spikes at the same time,” Anya clarified patiently.

Xander’s face reflected pure, unadulterated fear for an instant. And then it vanished with a good-natured grin. “Nah,” he said dismissively, “Buffy would never do that.” He hummed a bit as he put the rag away. Denial was indeed a lovely place this time of year…

Chapter Twenty-One

“Oh, what was that?” Buffy asked, pointing to a bush behind Spike.

The bush in question stubbornly refused to do anything suspicious. Buffy’s eyes narrowed. That was a sure sign that this was an evil bush; a good bush would have helped her out in this situation by starting to rustle and giving her a distraction.

Spike rolled his eyes and caught her by the shoulders. “You can’t stall forever, pet,” he informed her. “Sooner or later you’re going to have to answer my question.”

“But…it’s an evil bush!” Buffy insisted.

“Slayer…”

Uh-oh, he had that annoyed tone he used to get right before he would try to rip her throat out.

Buffy sighed in resignation. “Couldn’t you just shatter the crystal and find out for yourself?” she pleaded.

Spike pulled the black stone from his duster pocket and rolled it about in the palm of his hand. “Haven’t decided what to do ‘bout this yet, luv,” he finally shrugged, returning the object to his pocket. “’s a big decision; don’t want to make it hastily…”

“He was pretty adamant about having his memories restored,” Buffy pressed.

“Ah, so you’re finally willin’ to acknowledge that the infamous ‘training room conversation’ occurred?” Spike’s eyes met hers intently, attempting to peer into her soul.

Buffy took a deep breath to organize her thoughts. “I just told him about everything that was riding on his decision,” she finally began. “How this world would never come about if he didn’t do it.”

“An’ he really agreed to it?” Spike looked at her skeptically.

“Not at first,” she admitted, “but there were things he wanted to save: Drusilla, the world even, and…what you and I have now.” She said this last part softly.

“That all?” he demanded. “You didn’t…?”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “We kissed twice,” she informed him matter-of-factly. “There was no hanky-panky in the training room.”

“You didn’t ‘ave to bribe him at all then?” he pressed.

She sighed. “Maybe just a little,” she conceded.

His expression darkened.

“I-I just told him that he could be happy in this world…and I’d do my best to make it happen,” she practically whispered, stepping up to him and resting her hands lightly on his hips.

She saw his pupils dilate with arousal and smiled slyly, leaning in for a quick, chaste kiss.

“He did the right thing for the right reasons,” she whispered against his lips. “You did the right thing…”

“’m still evil,” he grumbled under his breath.

Buffy couldn’t help herself; she threw her head back and laughed.

“’s not funny,” Spike pouted, crossing his arms in front of himself defiantly.

“Sorry.” Buffy wiped the tears of mirth away from her eyes and pulled at his arms. They gave way and came to rest on her waist.

“I am evil, you know,” Spike insisted.

“Sure,” she nodded, biting her lip to keep from bursting out into laughter again.

“C’mon, Slayer,” he pleaded, “let me have this one little delusion…”

“You’re evil,” she agreed teasingly. “You’re the evilest, baby. And while you’re off in the land of denial, can you say ‘hi’ to Xander for me?”

“Humph.” His lips turned down into a sulk, but his eyes were dancing with mirth.

“However,” Buffy fought the temptation to suck on that delicious lower lip of his and tried to steer the conversation back on track, “if you were to get much eviler anytime soon, we might have a bit of a problem… Let’s talk chip.”

Spike threw his head back in exasperation. “This is revenge for my makin’ you tell me ‘bout the trainin’ room, innit luv?” he accused.

“Turnabout’s fair play, Spikey,” she agreed brightly.

“What do you want?” he sighed, resting his forehead against hers.

“Scenario,” Buffy whispered, “you wake up tomorrow evening and the chip doesn’t work: what do you do?”

He shut his eyes and was silent for a while.

“Spike, I’m serious!” she persisted when it didn’t seem like he was going to respond.

“An’ ‘m tryin’ to come up with a serious answer,” he finally said. “I could already go after you, if I wanted to,” he began slowly. “I don’t. I also don’t really have any particular desire to see your little Scooby Gang snuff it. As for everyone else…”

“The ‘Happy Meals with legs’,” Buffy reminded him.

“Yeah,” he smiled at the memory with a fondness that made Buffy debate whether she should give his foot a good stomp. His expression turned grave again before he continued, though. “Somethin’ ever seems up with the chip,” he promised her, “’ll come straight to you, luv. No side trips for fast food…”

“And what am I supposed to do with you then?” she gave him a sultry smile.

“Remind me that the side of good has better…benefits than the alternative,” he whispered huskily.

She allowed him to give her a quick kiss before she reluctantly pulled away. “And if things don’t turn out?” she demanded. “Suppose something happens. You stop loving me, or-”

“Not going to happen,” he insisted firmly.

“Or something along those lines,” she amended. “What then?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I wish I could promise you that no matter what ‘ll be a good little boy till the end of eternity…but it would be a lie. I don’t know what to tell you…” He trailed off, a forlorn note in his voice.

Their foreheads rested together for a minute while they thought.

“How about this,” Buffy finally began. “If we’re still in each other’s lives - or proximity - when and if the chip goes, you don’t do anything stake-worthy. You come right to me, no matter what things are like between us. I promise not to stake you. We’ll talk it out and come to some sort of agreement that doesn’t involve us having to kill each other. Because I really don’t think I could dust you after what we’ve had together, baby…”

She placed several feather light kisses across his face, holding his chin with one palm and allowing her thumb to toy with the razor edge of one cheekbone.

“I can do that,” he agreed.

“Good,” she gave him a happy smile.

“On one condition.”

“Oh?” she gave him a curious look.

“You have to do the same,” he declared.

“Uh, Spike, I never got a chip. We already established that pretty clearly,” she pointed out.

He shook his head. “Not the part ‘bout the chip. The part where you actually agree to come an’ talk with me if somethin’s up.”

“What do you mean?” she put her hands on her hips.

“I mean that you start treatin’ me right,” he frowned. “No more jus’ beatin’ me up ‘cause you feel like it. No more tryin’ to shut me out like ‘m something to be ashamed of.” A hint of anger entered his voice at this.

“Spike, I already told them-”

“An’ that was good,” he cut her off. “That was a start. But ‘m givin’ up a lot for you here. You know that, right?”

She nodded weakly.

“So maybe we both need to give a little somethin’ up for this to work,” he concluded. “’m part of your life now, pet.”

“And I want you in my life,” she assured him, running her hands up and down the lapels of his coat.

“Then you’ll ‘ave to let me in a little,” he said. “I can’t keep goin’ the way we’ve been…” He trailed off and apparently found something very engrossing to watch on his boot.

“You’re right,” she agreed softly, tilting his head up to look at her.

“I am?” he asked nervously.

“Of course you are,” she frowned slightly at his reaction.

“Then you’re not goin’ to leave me for sayin’ that?” A slight glimmer of relief was in his voice now.

She fought back the tears in her eyes. “No,” she sniffed slightly.

“What’s this?” he said, concerned, wiping away one tear as it fell down her cheek. “Don’t cry, luv…”

“I’m so sorry!” she finally bawled out. “The way I’ve treated you…” Sniff. “I d-don’t know why…” She trailed off helplessly.

“Hey now,” he gave her a reassuring smile. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Buffy. Tell you what: from this point on, we’re startin’ all over again. ‘ve already forgotten everything you did.”

“Really?” she pleaded.

“Really.”

She once again found his lips just inches from hers.

“So, is this our first kiss then?” she joked lightly.

“Don’t know,” he teased back.

She gave an intense look. “What do you mean?” she finally demanded.

“Well, ‘s the first time,” he shrugged. “Don’t really quite know yet if you’ll let me kiss you.”

She laughed. “I guess you’ll just have to try and find out…” she whispered seductively.

“Guess so,” he agreed.

He leaned in slowly, and she let her eyes flutter shut, savoring the faint smell of leather and cigarette smoke, the sound of the low purr in his chest, the feel of his hands on her hips, and the coolness of his unnecessary breath upon her lips.

Oh, those lips! They were so soft at first that she wouldn’t have even known they were there if it weren’t for that tingly extra ‘Spike sense’ she had. Then they pressed against hers lightly, molding perfectly against her own. Instinctively, they both opened their mouths at the same time, tongues lazily coming to the forefront and teasing and caressing each other gently, knowing they had all the time in the world…

Buffy’s hands clasped behind his neck, pulling him down to her harder. She was suddenly finding the distance between them to be unbearable. Her body pressed up against his, rubbing in all the right places and making him moan. Languidly, she slid one leg up his lean thigh before wrapping it around his waist, allowing them to grind together in perfect alignment…

She whimpered when he finally pulled back, annoyed with herself for needing something stupid like air.

He was also breathing heavily for no real reason. “A bit intense for a first kiss, ‘ey luv?” he joked.

She gave him a playful bat on the shoulder. “Screw the first kiss,” she said. “I want you…”

Soon they were wrapped around each other once again, Buffy’s back up flush against a convenient tree. Hands wandered into all sorts of naughty, inappropriate places, and Buffy let out a deep sigh of relief when one of his knees pressed its way in between hers, rising against the tree trunk until it was situated right at the apex of her thighs. She ground down against him, crying out at the shocks that went through her clit at this new and delightful friction.

They were quickly reaching the point of no return, they hazily realized together. And then, by some subconscious mutual signal, they stopped.

“Woah,” Buffy said breathlessly. “That was…woah.”

“Woah,” Spike nodded, holding himself up against the tree with one arm. “Woah,” he repeated after he finally remembered he didn’t have to pant for breath.

“OK,” Buffy said once she could finally speak again, “we’re both mature adults here.” She gave Spike a wry look. “Well, we’re both adults at least,” she amended teasingly.

“’ey!” he protested, smiling slightly.

“So here’s the first consequence of being in my life,” Buffy said solemnly. “I have to go home, check up on Will and Dawnie and such. I haven’t been home for almost two days now.”

“OK,” Spike nodded, “I can see that. Can I come with you?” he asked almost bashfully.

She slapped herself in the forehead to fight back the practically instinctive objections that popped into her mind. She gave him a sheepish smile when she saw that he was looking at her like she was crazy.

“Yeah,” she said, “you can come with me. But you can’t stay the night. Willow still has problems sleeping sometimes because of the after effects of the withdrawal, and I do not want my sister to ever hear us…”

“Gotcha,” he said cheerfully, walking alongside her. “Stop in for a bit of a chat with the Nibblet, maybe a hot cup of cocoa, no sweepin’ you up off your feet an’ carryin’ you up to bed…”

Buffy’s eyes got a glazed look in them at the idea. “We’ll have to arrange that,” she gave him a catlike smile. “Get Will and Dawn out of the way some evening, have the place all to ourselves…”

“Finally break in that bed o’ yours,” he winked at her. “Been wantin’ to do that for a long time…”

“And I’ve been thinking lately that my room really needs a naked vampire to complete it,” she teased. “I don’t suppose you could help me with that?”

“In the name of interior decoratin’ only,” he joked back. “’s quite a sacrifice, after all…”

She laughed and hesitantly slid her arm around his waist as they walked. He looked a bit startled at first, but then gave in to her demands, flinging one arm casually across her back and letting her rest her head on his shoulder for the rest of the walk to her house.

“And we really have to get back in gear with the slaying,” she sighed. “Warren and Jonathan and…er… What’s his name?”

Spike shrugged. “I refuse to fight those wankers,” he frowned slightly. “’s bleedin’ humilatin’. Can’t you come up with some nasty demon or something actually worth fighting to be your arch-nemesis?”

“Would if I could,” she agreed wistfully. “Where’s a good, challenging enemy when you need one?”

He gave her a sly smirk. “I could always be your arch-nemesis again if you want, kitten,” he teased.

“Mmm,” she murmured, amused, “I’d have to tie you up then, keep you from doing terrible, horrible things to me…”

“Sounding better all the time, ‘ey luv?”

She laughed. “At least you could give me a run for my money,” she agreed. “Those losers are probably off doing something completely inept even as we speak…”

* * *

Warren’s eyes narrowed at the image of Buffy on the screen before him. He nervously wiped the sweat from his brow as his finger tightened on the trigger. Slowly, he snuck forward, keeping his aim directly on his target.

Fifteen feet until he was in range…ten…five…

She turned around just as he came in range.

Too late!

He pulled the trigger frantically, emptying the clip of his handgun into her chest.

“Yes!” he exclaimed, raising one hand in the air.

The words ‘GAME OVER. YOU WIN!’ flashed across the screen.

“Adding Buffy’s likeness to ‘First Person Shooter’ was a brilliant idea,” Jonathan commented, watching the end credits of the game roll by.

“So are you done now?” Andrew whined in the background. “’Cause I’d really like to get this off sometime soon.” He held up one half of a set of handcuffs that was still latched to his wrist. “It chafes,” he complained.

“Yeah,” Jonathan said. “It’s my turn to play anyway. I want to kill Cordelia and Harmony.”

“Just one more game,” Warren clutched the controller to his chest like the precious treasure it was.

“No fair!” Andrew and Jonathan complained in unison. “Give it up!”

“Oh, yeah?” He stuck his tongue out at them. “Then make me.”

He squealed like a little girl and ducked when various crunchy and sugary snacks in colors never seen in nature were pelted at his head.

* * *

“Also, I have to spend some time with Dawnie this weekend,” Buffy went on regretfully. “I can’t keep running away to your crypt at all hours of the day.”

“’s OK,” Spike said, trying to hide his disappointment.

“I only have a half-shift at the Doublemeat Palace on Tuesday, though,” she informed him. “I could stop by your place afterwards, if you want, maybe spend the afternoon…”

“I definitely want,” he agreed.

“Good.” Buffy puffed up and felt proud of how responsible and grown up they were being about this now.

“Hey, Buffy,” Dawn said cheerfully when she saw her walk in the kitchen door. “Hey, Spike!” Dawn squealed and ran up to give him a hug when she saw he was there, too. “You’re here!” she said excitedly. “This is so cool!”

“Hey, watch it,” Buffy laughed slightly. “I might get jealous…and I’m not sure of which one of you.”

Dawn let the extremely embarrassed vampire go. “So?” she demanded. “So?!” She looked back and forth between Spike and Buffy expectantly.

Buffy rolled her eyes at her sister’s antics and gave Spike a little ‘see what I have to put up with?’ smile. “Dawn - and I - want to know if you’ll come over for dinner this Friday,” Buffy finally caved in to her sister’s anxious little squeals.

Spike raised an eyebrow at Buffy’s bemused expression and the pleading puppy-dog eyes Dawn was now using on him with full force. Hell, he’d always been a sucker for those big, liquid pools. “Sure.” He managed to maintain a very cool tone to his response. He was particularly proud of it.

“This is so, sooo cool!” Dawn bounced and clapped her hands together, a wide grin on her face.

“It should be illegal to have that much energy without coffee,” Buffy teased.

Dawn stuck her tongue out at her sister.

Buffy rolled her eyes and said “hi” to Willow when she walked to check out what all the fuss was about.

“Oh!” The former Witch’s eyes widened. “Er…hi Buffy, hi Spike…” she laughed nervously.

“Spike was just, um…walking me home,” Buffy said apologetically to Willow. She elbowed him in the side.

“Oh…right!” His eyes widened with sudden realization. “I was just…droppin’ Buffy off so that I could be on my way to…some place that’s not here,” he attempted to back her up lamely.

Willow looked back and forth at the two anxious faces and concealed an evil little grin. “Actually,” she said, trying to hide the mirth in her voice, “I was going to teach Dawn how to read rune stones tonight. No magic, just book knowledge, I assure you,” she hastily added. “But,” the sly smile now made it to her lips, “it would be much easier for us to concentrate if Buffy wasn’t around making her usual racket…” She blinked innocently at Spike. “I don’t suppose you could…take her with you?”

Buffy and Spike looked at her, then looked at each other, looked to Dawn who was nodding at Willow’s statements with false gravity, then back to each other… Identical idiotic grins appeared on their faces at the same time.

“Well, if that’s what’s best for you and Dawn…” Buffy tried to sound reluctant and failed miserably.

“’s quite a sacrifice, but I s’pose she could stay with me for a while longer…” Spike nodded enthusiastically.

“But I’ll definitely be back by midnight,” Buffy said sternly. “After all, I’m a responsible adult and parent. I need to be around tomorrow so we can hang out and go to the mall.”

“Cool,” Dawn agreed. “But the responsible thing to do would definitely be to let Will take care of me this evening…”

“Done!” Buffy and Spike both exclaimed with much enthusiasm.

“We’ll just be then…” Buffy backed towards the door, casting a longing look in Spike’s direction.

“Yeah, get out of your way an’ all…” Spike met her at the door.

“Bye, you crazy kids,” Willow joked when they practically fled out the door.

She and Dawn shared a conspiratorial little smile.

“You so have to make Buffy give us the details tomorrow,” Dawn laughed slightly at the antics of her sister and the vampire she’d come to love like a brother.

Willow put on a mock angry expression. “ ‘Buffy, how could you keep this from me? We’re best friends’,” she practiced her plan of attack for tomorrow. “ ‘You owe me the entire story right now!’”

“Ah, the guilt trip,” Dawn sighed nostalgically. “That one always works on her…”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Buffy was very, very proud of them; they’d managed to keep their hands off of each other the entire way back to Spike’s crypt. Their resolve broke the instant the door shut behind them, though.

Neither of them could have said how they ended up with Spike pressing Buffy into the wall, her legs wrapped firmly around his waist. And they didn’t bother to ponder the matter, either. Their lips fought savagely and their hands roughly demanded access to the other’s sensitized flesh, blocking out all coherent thought.

Buffy shoved the leather duster off his shoulders roughly, causing it to pool on the floor around his feet. Her fingers clutched frantically and the button-up he wore - that same royal purple one that seemed to have become a symbol of their wild passion.

Spike ground his rock-hard erection hard against her, eliciting a moan and a little wince. He quickly pulled out of their embrace.

“You all right, luv?” he asked, concerned. “’Cause if you’re still banged up from last night, we don’t have to…” He gestured emphatically, pointing back and forth between them. “We could do somethin’ else, I mean. Talk or…”

“Spike,” she quieted him with a finger to the lips, “I want to…” She repeated his earlier hand motions. “I want to very much.” She took another step towards him and winced once again when she pulled a muscle in the wrong way. “But, maybe we should go a bit easy this time,” she conceded.

“I can do easy,” he agreed, walking over to her.

She squealed in delight when he whisked her off her feet. She allowed her arms to wrap around his neck, and he lowered his head to give her a quick kiss on the lips.

“Where are you taking me?” she giggled, swinging her feet in the air when he began to walk her across the crypt.

“ ‘Easy’ involves a nice, soft bed,” he informed her, “not cold, stone surfaces.”

“No biting either,” she insisted firmly. “I was starting to feel a little woozy after…”

“…We bit you about a dozen times?” he finished, a hint of laughter in his eyes. “Guess we got a bit carried away.”

“No, it’s OK,” Buffy reassured him. “It’s just…I think I need to start taking iron supplements before I go through that again. Although I was surprised how little it effected me…”

“Love bites,” he explained. “Not meant to drain blood…just give pleasure.”

“Mmm, they did at that…” She reached up to kiss the hollow of his throat as he carefully carried her down the ladder. Having reached the lower level of the crypt, he set her on the edge of the bed with great ceremony.

“Now what, pet?” he teased.

“How about a little game?” she smiled at him coyly. “We pretend it’s the first time…”

“Destroyin’ an entire building doesn’t exactly qualify as ‘easy’,” he teased, “’t least not in my book. Plus, ‘m a bit less eager to tear down my home than some abandoned house…”

“Not that first time,” she whispered in his ear with a sultry voice, “my first time… Pretend I’ve never had…” She trailed off with a blush.

An evil grin lit up his face. “You want the Big Bad to deflower you?” he purred against her throat.

“Mmm-hmm,” Buffy agreed lazily, twining her fingers in his hair.

“What my Slayer wants, my Slayer gets,” he gave her a quick kiss on the nose before diving in.

To Buffy’s surprise, rather than tackle her back onto the mattress, he lowered himself to his knees in front of her, situating himself between her legs which still dangled over the edge of the mattress. He placed one hand on the bed on either side of her hips and leaned in to kiss her with agonizing slowness.

Buffy clasped her hands at the back of his neck, pressing her lips against his with ferocious intensity. He returned her passion, but the motions of his tongue within her mouth remained languid, setting a slow pace for their lovemaking.

His hands were so light on her back at first that she almost didn’t feel them. They skimmed up and down her spine with increasing familiarity, causing her nerves to tingle with anticipation wherever he touched her.

“Mmm, Spike…” she murmured when his lips finally left hers, kissing a lazy trail up to her temple and then back down her throat.

“Buffy,” he whispered against the hollow of her throat, his breath cool and giving her goosebumps, “my Buffy…”

“Yours,” she agreed, her own hands slowly exploring his back and shoulders, rubbing against the smooth fabric of his shirt. She nuzzled his hair gently and took in a deep breath. “Spike scent…” she sighed happily.

“Buffy scent,” he agreed, his nostrils flaring against the valley between her breasts.

One of his hands caught hers as it traveled over the firm muscles of his upper arm. He brought it to his lips, kissing each fingertip in turn before planting an open-mouthed kiss on her palm. She let out a little squeak of delight when his lips moved slowly up the back of her arm, tasting her from her wrist all the way up to her shoulder.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against the fabric of her blouse. “So very beautiful…”

He caught her other wrist and gave that arm the same treatment as its predecessor. She practically melted, only his strong arm around her waist keeping her from falling back on the bedspread.

“What do you want?” he whispered into her ear, gently biting the lobe with blunt teeth.

She gasped. “You,” she finally said breathlessly, sliding her arms around his waist.

“You’ve already got me, pet,” he purred, his tongue licking her Adam’s apple before following a meandering path down to the low neck of her blouse. “’m right here…” He kissed a path down her sternum to her stomach, still above the fabric that hid her from his eyes.

“I want more…” She hissed when his lips found her navel, and his tongue prodded it through the blouse. “I need to feel you skin on mine…” She arched her back when his teeth lightly gripped the hem of her shirt and pulled it up. She would have fallen backwards once again, but he still held her in place.

He tentatively kissed the flat of her bare stomach. “That better, kitten?” he teased lightly.

“Oh god, yes!” she cried aloud.

He tongue proceeded to trace every scar he could find, drawing intricate symbols up her stomach to her chest…

He had pulled her blouse off so slowly she had barely realized it. The amazing things he was doing with his mouth distracted her when he slipped her arms back out of the sleeves. It was only when he pulled it over her head and tossed it carelessly aside that she finally noticed.

“So beautiful…” He gently rubbed his forehead against the silk of her bra.

“Please, Spike,” she whispered raggedly.

One of his hands glided up her back, quickly locating the clasp. Deft fingers figured out the locking mechanism instantly, and he gently slid the straps down her arms, rubbing the satiny material against her skin as he did so.

His tongue slowly flicked out and swirled around on her right nipple. Buffy’s nails dug into his scalp, and she forced his mouth onto her with her full strength. He complied, licking and biting and twisting, doing things so incredibly wonderful that she couldn’t even begin to describe them.

The ache between her thighs was now most certainly not pain but need. Her hands fumbled against him for a bit before catching hold of his zipper.

However, he caught her wrists before she could release him. “Ah, ah, ah,” he tsked. “You’re a fluttering virgin, remember?” he reminded her.

“Screw that,” Buffy struggled half-heartedly against him.

“Oh, I very much intend to,” he gave her a lascivious smirk, “but first ‘ve got to work you up to it. Virgins tend to be a bit flighty, you know, but the payoff’s more than worth the effort.” He winked.

Buffy’s eyes widened, and she calmed in his arms. “Right…” she said dreamily. “Right,” she agreed more firmly. Her hands came to rest on his waist again.

“’Bout time you went for the buttons, though,” he said, pouting slightly.

She looked at him askance.

“What? You’re suddenly surprised by my impatience?” he teased.

She leaned in to kiss him in response, taking his advice and slowly undoing his buttons. Her fingers explored the open expanse of his chest, her nails scratching him just lightly enough to make the taut muscles beneath her hands quiver in anticipation.

His mouth returned to her throat, and he pressed his chest firmly against hers, flattening her breasts and rubbing them against his cooler flesh in delicious ways. She caught his chin and pulled him in for another passionate kiss. They murmured into each other’s mouths, their tongues stroking each other slowly.

Buffy sighed contentedly against his lips when one of his hands began massaging little circles into her shoulders, relaxing her once again and turning her body to Jell-O.

“Christ, Buffy,” he finally gasped out, resting his forehead against hers, “you make me want to start composin’ terrible poetry.”

She giggled slightly. “Go on,” she teased him. “I promise to laugh hysterically the entire time.”

He chuckled wryly. “Not a good idea, luv,” he informed her. “’m so terrible I could probably drown out the fire between us…”

She kissed him quickly on the lips. “I like you anyway, though,” she smiled.

And then moaned aloud. He had taken advantage of their little conversation to sneak one hand down the front of her pants. It had been done with such exceptional skill that she hadn’t even felt him until he thumbed her clit.

“Oh, Spike!” she gasped, her eyes widening when he slowly flicked her back and forth.

“That good for you, pet?” he breathed into her ear. “Can you felt it? The fire burning deep within you…”

She nodded frantically.

“I can make it feel so good…” His voice dropped an octave into a husky whisper, and his eyes were with black with desire. “Let me show you, my love.”

She looked deep into those stormy eyes and found herself completely entranced. She barely registered the fact that he’d lifted her up to slip off her jeans. Her boots, socks, and pant legs all came off while she was still mesmerized by his gaze. Her panties had - of course - been destroyed by their earlier activities; she didn’t really process this thought, though. She was so completely caught up in the fantasy. He was to be her first, and he was so, so beautiful…

His lips met hers yet again, and her arms wrapped around his bare shoulders, loving the way his flesh had now warmed to her touch. She whimpered and moaned when his hand reached between them again to twist and tease her clit, setting her entire body ablaze with desire.

One of his fingers was tracing the entrance to her innermost depths now, brushing against all the sensitive spots in her moist folds and causing them to part eagerly when he drove deeper. His finger entered her so slowly she couldn’t really say when the exact moment of penetration had occurred. All she was aware of was the fever that swept through her body, demanding more and more.

“I can bring you pleasure you’ve never even dreamed of,” he purred into her ear. “I can make every inch of your body hum with delight. I can make you feel like…” he paused for a second and then his eyes lit up when he remembered one of their previous conversations, “…like Heaven was nothing. You haven’t even begun to experience ecstasy yet, baby…”

A second finger slipped inside her, gently stretching her inner walls. Buffy ground her hips down against his hand, needing more, needing him…all of him…

“That’s my Slayer,” he whispered soothingly, adding a third finger to the mix.

She shut her eyes tightly at the strain on her sore muscles, but soon the pleasure overcame the pain.

He watched her face relax and allowed himself a smug smile. “I can give you everything,” he pressed lightly, his fingers still pumping in and out of her slowly. “All you have to do is ask me…”

“S-Spike?” she finally managed to whimper.

“That’s it, luv,” he purred. “I can show you…”

“Show me how much you love me,” she finally pleaded.

His eyes widened in amazement. Buffy watched the expression on his face, fascinated. It was that same look he’d gotten when she’d first impaled herself upon him…only ten times so. A strange combination of awe and disbelief and love…so much love…

His lips were upon hers once again now, bruising in their intensity. She clung to him desperately, whimpering softly when he twisted their positions around, sitting on the edge of the bed and cradling her in his lap. Her knees squeezed his thighs slightly, and she realized that he’d somehow managed to pull down his jeans in the midst of that clever little maneuver. Now there was nothing separating her and…

Oh god!

His velvety soft head brushed up against her outer folds, making her body scream aloud for him. Her hips wriggled about frantically, trying to lower herself onto him. However, he held her buttocks firmly, stilling her desperate motions.

“Shh, luv,” he hushed her softly. “Jus’ breathe and let it happen…”

She felt herself calming at his words and did as he said, gasping for breath.

“That’s it, kitten,” he continued in that same hypnotic tone, “jus’ breathe. In an’ out, in an’ out, in an’ out…”

She managed to slow herself down, matching the steady rhythm he’d set.

“There now,” he gave her a little smile, “innit that better?”

She nodded and brushed back the locks of honeyed hair that had fallen in front of her eyes so that she could see him better. “I want you,” she whispered softly, stroking his cheek with her thumb. “I want you so much, Spike…”

“Shh, just breathe…”

She continued to draw the outlines of his face and did as he asked. And soon it became very apparent what he was doing. With each breath she let out, he lowered her slightly, causing his stiff member to poke deeper into her folds each time her body sagged on her intake of breath.

“In, out,” he repeated. “Slow an’ deep, in an’ out…”

One millimeter at a time, he was slowly penetrating her, allowing her natural rhythms to set the pace.

“Out,” he sighed, leaning his forehead against hers and lowering her a bit so that his position within her remained the same. “In.” Her breath pushed her down a little bit farther, and his words took on another meaning as she took in both the air and more of him.

“Spike…” she moaned softly as she breathed out, savoring every inch of him as he gradually filled her up.

“Buffy…” he murmured, breaking his steady mantra for one beat.

In the back of her mind, she wondered at this new act of union. They were both so anxious and tempestuous and fiery, yet oddly neither was in the slightest hurry to rush this. It felt so perfect, taking the time to feel every moment as he leisurely pushed into her core.

She felt the muscles in his jaw twitch beneath her right hand. Under the other, his chest rose and fell in the same steady rhythm that hers did. For a second, she could have sworn he felt his heart beating; then, she realized it was her own pounding pulse, travelling through the tips of her fingers into him.

Their foreheads still rested together, his nodding forward slightly with every breath in order to accommodate her lower position on his body. She could feel the beads of sweat pressed between them, making his skin slick and sticky and creating a powerful suction that held the two of them locked in that position.

He cupped her ass lightly, holding her just strongly enough to keep her in place. His hands were just the perfect size to hold her, she realized dazedly. It still seemed so odd to her that a vampire’s body could be so exquisitely well matched to a Slayer’s. She would have thought the Powers That Be would have made damn sure two such fierce enemies could never fit together this well. Unless, of course, this was meant to be…

And, oh, did it feel like it was meant to be!

With one final slow sigh, she lowered herself onto him completely. His hands released their hold on her butt cheeks and began lazily stroking up and down her back. She returned the favor, her hands lingering over his body, intent on discovering every inch.

Their hips continued to rock together gently, keeping him deep within her. She marveled at the fact that he’d managed to push all the way inside her without straining the over-sensitized skin and muscles within her. The way he was holding her, touching her, exploring her inner depths…it was truly a work of art.

She made soft little mewling noises with his every in stroke, keeping precise counterpoint to the slight hisses that were escaping his lips.

“I love you, Buffy,” he whispered into her hair softly. “I love you so much…”

She caught his chin and lifted his head so that she was looking directly into his eyes. For once those cerulean depths held no secrets for her. He was giving himself completely and wholly to her. He was so fragile in that moment, so vulnerable…

“I know,” she replied before peppering his face with kisses as light as butterfly wings. “I can see it in your eyes,” she informed him. “How much you love me…” She pulled back so that their eyes met one again and rocked down against him a bit harder, causing him to moan. “Look into my eyes,” she instructed him. “Tell me what you see.”

Her irises were brilliant emerald at her arousal. He felt as though he were drowning in those twin pools. They kept sucking him in deeper and deeper…

“The woman I love,” he finally said, his voice taking on an oddly upper-class accent in the height of his passion.

Buffy was willing to bet that this was his real accent…soft, smooth, cultured… She continued to look directly into his eyes and increased her pace, feeling the pleasure building between them now. Everything she was thinking and feeling she tried to pour into her eyes, to show him…

He gasped in amazement at the emotion he saw reflected back at him for just a second. He let out a soft whimper and collapsed against her shoulder as he came slowly within her.

Buffy clutched his head to her chest as her own ecstasy broke through her. This was a peak she’d never experienced before, gradual and everlasting. It felt as though her orgasm had been occurring throughout their entire union, and only just now was she realizing it.

Their bodies clung desperately together, unable to bear the slightest sliver of candlelight to slip between them.

Her inner muscles clenched and unclenched around him in the steady rhythm of their union, milking him slowly and evenly for everything he had.

At that final moment, when the one last burst of extreme pleasure washed over them, he finally fell backwards onto the mattress, pulling her with him.

“Oh, Spike…” she murmured raggedly against him.

“I-I love you, Buffy,” he repeated hesitantly, shyly.

She rolled to the side, and he rolled with her, resting his head between her breasts, looking so delicate and unguarded and almost childlike…

“I…” Buffy stuttered slightly, unable to force out words to describe the strange, new feelings that were building within her at that moment and causing her stomach to twist up in that delectable way she’d only experienced once before. “I-I can’t, baby,” she finally finished sadly. “Not yet. I’m so sorry…”

“’S OK,” he smiled against her solar plexus. “’m not a patient man, you know,” he said thoughtfully, watching his fingers glide up and down her arm, “but I can wait for this…for you. You’re worth the wait.”

“You’re beautiful, you know,” she smiled as well, brushing the damp platinum curls back off of his forehead. “In every way. So beautiful…”

They lay there like that for while, her lying back against the snowy white sheets and him resting against her chest and purring softly.

It gave her plenty of time to imagine scenarios where she would finally say those three words to him. She wanted it to be just like this. She’d get him to make love to her the way he just had, and then she’d… Woah, her mind slowed her down, not there yet, remember? Her fantasy world stubbornly refused to listen to this reasonable objection. Hmmm, should I tell him here or at my place? she wondered. After all, the event in question was almost inevitable…

“Buffy,” he finally broke the silence curiously, “am I still enough for you?”

She looked down at him in disbelief. “Of course!” she insisted vehemently. “In fact,” she said with a sly smile on her face, “not that the last couple of nights weren’t wonderful, but I’m kind of glad to have you all alone to myself again.”

“Technically, you always did,” he joked lightly.

She laughed. “You know what I mean,” she batted his arm lightly. “It’s nice to have some…one-on-one time.”

“Mmm-hmm,” he agreed, snuggling deeper into her chest. “Actually, I was a bit surprised at how willin’ you were to…er…” He trailed off with uncharacteristic embarrassment.

She found it strangely charming. “You want to know a big secret?” she whispered in a low voice.

“Hmm?” he raised an eyebrow in her direction speculatively.

“I wanted you,” she confided in him, “even back then…”

He looked up at her in surprise.

“Nasty little inappropriate Slayer thoughts,” she giggled slightly at the shock on his face. “But if I’d known you were this…spectacular, I would have jumped your sexy, undead bones years ago.”

He chuckled slightly and slid up her body until their eyes were level with each other. “We’ve got lots of lost years to make up for then, luv.” He bent his neck and kissed her gently on the lips.

“Mmm,” she sighed when he pulled away, “Spike taste…” She rolled over onto her side so that she was facing him and smiled. “I wonder about him, you know,” she sighed. “What he’s doing right now-”

“He’s in bed with you,” he teased.

She gave him a good-natured scowl. “Stop with the confusing time-travel talk,” she pouted. “It’s giving me a headache.”

“Sorry,” he kissed her temple.

“Oh, good idea!” she said. “Kiss it and make it all better.”

“Love to, pet,” he agreed, kissing her other temple as well.

“I worry a bit,” she frowned slightly.

“Oh?” his lips murmured against her forehead.

“The Tabula Rasa,” she sighed. “It’s doesn’t exactly erase everything…”

He gave her a curious look.

She blushed slightly. “All I know is that Joan found Randy devilishly attractive…even if he wore the lamest clothes on the planet and whined the entire time.”

“Really?” he gave her an evil little smirk. “An’ I s’pose Randy thought Joan was the most gorgeous woman alive, despite the fact that she was a bossy, stuck-up little chit.” His grin widened. “Or maybe because of it…”

She decided to flaunt her newfound sense of maturity and stuck her tongue out at him. She should have known that would be a bad idea. His own tongue was upon it was voracious intensity, and soon they were locked in another passionate kiss.

It was quite a while before she could breathe to speak again. “I just can’t help wondering,” she picked up her earlier train of thought. “Just when did you start falling for me, anyway?”

His brow furrowed for a second. Then he shook his head. “Can’t really recall,” he shrugged. “Wasn’t aware of it for the longest time.”

“I wonder…” she sighed.

* * *

Sunnydale, 1997…

“What will you do now, my Spike?” Drusilla asked, gliding her crimson nails up and down his bare thigh.

He sighed and closed his eyes, nuzzling his head into her shoulder tenderly. “’d better come up with a new plan,” he finally conceded. “Get some of the minions to watch the chit more closely, learn her moves…”

“It will all work out in the end, my love,” Drusilla nodded. “Or in the beginning.” She giggled to herself as if this was some kind of clever joke.

Spike laughed slightly as well. After all, he was used to her existing on a plane that he couldn’t really reach.

“One thing’s for sure,” he insisted, a hard glint in his eyes, “next time, things’ll be very different for Bu-” He paused in mid-syllable, and his eyes softened for a second before he shook the strange feeling of familiarity off. “…for the Slayer,” he finally finished.

* * *

“So?” Buffy prodded lightly.

“Dunno,” Spike shrugged. “I mean, it changes everythin’…”

“Not so much,” she shrugged. “You were with him most of the time.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t experiencing it,” he insisted. “I kinda like the memories of our first time together the way they are…”

She nodded in understanding. “Well, it’s not a decision you have to make anytime soon,” she agreed.

She let one foot slide seductively up and down his calf and gave him a sly smile. “We’re still got a couple of hours before I have to go,” she whispered into his ear before taking the lobe between her teeth and twisting. He moaned and caught her roving foot between his feet.

“Eek!” she squealed. “Your feet are freezing!”

“Then warm ‘em up for me, luv,” he muttered in a deep growl.

She gave him a coy smile and then pushed him onto his back. He squirmed a bit beneath her, trying to gain the upper hand, but finally gave up and settled back contentedly, his arms clasped behind his neck.

Buffy ran her fingers gently up and down his sides, carefully testing his reactions. It was about time she learned exactly what pleased him the most. Like a science experiment, only much more fun… Kiss on the stomach, negative. Stroke along the inner thigh, positive. Bite to the throat, positive. Caress of the solar plexus, definite positive… She continued to catalogue his every little response, practicing so that one day she’d be able to play his body like a finely tuned harp.

“Buffy,” he moaned softly and reached up to her.

She caught his hands before he could touch her and forced them back behind his head. “Relax and enjoy,” she instructed him.

“But what ‘about you?” he asked.

“This has been all about me for too long already,” she informed him. “It’s about time it was all about you.”

“But-”

“Shh,” she cut off his final protest with a finger to his lips. “Just lay back and let me make love to you…” And then she was upon him again, her hands and mouth finally taking the time and energy needed to memorize every inch of his body…