Chapter 6 – Back to the Mother Land

Giles' red BMW sped down the highway, racing towards the Los Angeles Airport. Watching all rays of the sun on the horizon fade completely away, Buffy was reminded how closely they had timed their departure with sunset so that they could use the dark as wisely as possible, or Spike would be crispy critter. No fun with dust in bed instead of a cool, hard, male body. Without realizing it, Buffy licked her lips.

The watcher did his watcherly duty - worrying. "Buffy, I'm not at all sure that this trip is the best course of action in this circumstance. I am still not convinced that the monsters were actually who they appeared to be or that a Dr. Frankenstein even existed...er...exits."

Unexpectedly, Spike leaned forward from the rear seat and slapped the back of Giles' head. "Think less. Drive more. And Rups, what about the letter we found in the motel that the doc left behind? It let us know that the prig behind all of this mailed it from London. So London bound we are, Watcher. You can survive without your slayer for a few days." He, however, didn't think he could go a few days without her in his bed. Uh...er...well, he could go a few days if he had to, the vampire corrected himself. He just didn't want to.

While Giles huffed and puffed over the abuse of his head, he settled his glasses back on his nose, stalling for an answer.

Buffy pulled the much discussed envelope from her back pack. Sliding the letter out, she carefully unfolded it. "This," she waved the piece of paper in Giles' face, which he batted at, "gives a 'Do My Will' spell that puzzled even Willow in its simplicity, and also included instructions to go after me. And for the peeping Toms in the crowd, here is my picture taken in the Simpson Cemetery."

"Tsk, tsk, pet, they should have taken it from the other side. Maybe different lighting would have helped," Spike joked from the back seat. He had sat behind Giles on purpose. At first, he had told himself he had done it for no particular reason, but later he just had to admit to himself that he had done it to watch the Slayer's profile and catch glimpses of her face when she turned her head. He would have thought he was cracked until he rationalized that she was his mistress, a beautiful mistress, and he was allowed to look his fill, that is as long as she didn't catch him. Didn't want her getting the wrong idea that he was infatuated or something, did he?

Buffy shot him a glare and a retort, making him jump. "Shut up, Spike."

"Keep wishing on that same old star, Goldilocks," Spike leaned across and whispered in her ear. Then he smirked at the back of her head, wishing the slayer would turn around again so that he could see her face. Spike kicked himself. All this wanting to dally with his hated enemy was starting to make his head spin.

Buffy growled at the irritating vampire. But, irritating though Spike was, half of her growl was caused by the fact that his whisper had too much of an effect on her. Highly embarrassed, she felt the goose bumps she had up her arms. "Giles, even if you don't believe that this doc guy is Frankenstein, you have to admit that somebody is trying to have me killed..."

"More power to him, I say." Spike threw in, still uncomfortable with his thoughts regarding the Slayer and her beauty.

"Shut. Up. Spike. Again, to have me killed, and according to this," she waved the envelope, "that someone is in England."

"Granted..." Giles begrudgingly nodded his head.

"Ergo Buffy goes to England." Buffy smiled, proud of her own logic that she had nicely laid out for Giles.

Now the watcher could understand the need to go to England, but the need to have her companion along for the ride was still highly questionable. "And the necessity of Spike?"

Buffy looked into the back seat and had to secretly smile at how cute his attempt to sprawl like a big bad in a small backseat looked. Stop it Buffy, he is so not cute. Well, just a little. "We have a truce, don't we, oh chip boy. And, Giles, he'll help get me around and help fight. "

"But I could show you around London..." Giles glanced over at Buffy and wondered why she was still looking at Spike. In the very dim recesses of his mind, small bells rang, but he chose to ignore them, considering all the other goings on.

Her watcher's valid suggestion brought her back to the subject at hand, but that didn't make her like the suggestion. "Yes, but you...uh...Giles, Spike's going. Deal." Ok, so she had copped out. "Anyway, you need to stay here at the Hellmouth and command the troops." What was she suppose to tell the man who was her father for all intents and purposes? She wanted the obnoxious blood sucker hottie with her because they were having a hot and heavy affair that she didn't want to leave behind? Hell, she could barely admit that to herself without her cheeks flaming with embarrassment. But the scary part was that the admission was getting easier. At least now, she did admit it – just not to the blood sucker. That brought on another smile.

Said vampire broke into her thoughts. "Besides, Watcher, those two monsters tried to kill yours truly, too. Gotta grudge to settle, and it's not likely I could do that from Sunnyhell." Leaning up, Spike's voice changed to low and sinful. His eyes stared holes into the back of Buffy's head, willing her to turn around and look at him. "And the Slayer and I need to explore our truce further."

Buffy's cheeks set on fire, and she turned and reached into the backseat to smack Spike on the leg. Then it was time to change the subject. "Oh, oh, Giles, there's the airport exit."

Spike just laughed. At least she had looked back at him, and bonus, she had touched him. Nothing wrong with a little spank, he thought as he licked his lips.

*****

After they were settled in their seats and the plane took off, Buffy looked over at the book Spike had pulled out of his bag and read the cover. "'Conversations with Ted Bundy'? You sicko!"

Spike gave her a sly grin and a wink that she found adorable. "Ain't it grand. Besides, it's an amusing game of ferreting out the lies. And you think I'm evil. Just think, Slayer. He did all those murders with a soul."

Cute? Spike? He's a vampire, Buffy. Sharp teeth. Grh. Remember that.

She was also uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking, so she pulled out a magazine from the pocket of the seat in front of her and began leafing through it. But her mind stayed its course. She hated to admit it, but Spike was right. Serial killers such as Bundy, Dahmer, and Gasey had committed horrible crimes with souls. She guessed the soul hadn't mattered one bit. How can that be? On the other side, Spike was no longer killing and didn't have a soul, but he had a chip, which was like a forcibly implanted soul of sorts. The bigger question was whether he keep from killing without a soul? No way. When Angel lost his soul, he was mega evil. So soul good. No soul evil. That was it. She would just ignore the whole Ted Bundy with a soul scenario.

Buffy's world returned to normal. But that was the problem. She wasn't normal. Hadn't she seen enough in her career as a slayer to come to the conclusion that there weren't any hard and fast rules? No, no, it just couldn't be, she told herself without much conviction. But, to be honest, there probably were some grey areas. Areas that she hoped to avoid.

Soon her eyes were beginning to droop. Spike watched as the hand she used to thumb through the pages of her magazine slowly came to a stop and her head began to loll over to the side. His side. He froze for a moment as her head settled against his t-shirt clad shoulder. He should shove her head to the other side. The demon in him knew that, wanted that. Why should he help his enemy get all comfy cozy? He should push her away...but he didn't. Instead he let the twit squirm to the get more comfortable.

Then she elbowed him as she moved. Now that was the last straw. Using his hand, he pushed her head off of his shoulder, and was promptly surprised when Buffy slapped his hand back down. "You're my fanged travel pillow for the duration, so sit still." Spike growled until the lady in the seat in front of him looked around. He gave her a dazzling smile. Sugar instead of vinegar for the old bat.

Cutting into his thoughts, Buffy pleaded in a little girl's voice, "Read to me."

"Shut your gob, you cheeky bint." He couldn't just hear but felt her chuckle. As she settled back for her nap, Spike settled in for the duration. After awhile, Spike found himself listening to her breathe, a steady rhythm for a time; then from time to time, it would catch for a moment, no doubt a reflection of something happening in her current dream. Once she held her breath for thirty seconds, and he sincerely hoped she was dreaming that he had finally killed her. Well, maybe just beat her to a pulp.

How things change over time, he pondered. He had come to Sunnyhell to help Dru and to kill the Slayer, then to just fight not kill the Slayer because he didn't want to lose such an adversary. Next, he had relied on her help and they were allies of sorts, and now he was shagging her. Wonder if the Powers That Be would answer one question: What the bloody fucking hell was going on? Oh, bugger it. He looked down at her golden head and smiled despite himself. Maybe he was never meant to kill her at all. To paraphrase a line that he had once read that made him think of this slayer, "The world is a more interesting place with you in it."

Buffy found his shoulder comfortable. Ok, only somewhat comfortable, not as comfy as her bed with a good pillow, but she had no desire to move. She couldn't help it. She felt drawn to him, drawn to touch him somehow, like hold his hand. Wait a minute. Holding Spike's hand was so far outside the realm of possibility that she couldn't believe she had thought of it. How could she have even thought of such a gesture? It was something she would do with a boyfriend. Boyfriend?! Where did that come from? Ok, time to sleep. Shutting brain down now.

The problem was that he just followed her in her dreams. There were candles every where, a four poster bed, and black satin sheets. No, that wasn't right. Candlelight still bathed the room, but the bed had only a headboard and the sheets were floral. Spike was in her, in her bed, in her room, and it felt so right. She didn't even fear her mother walking in. All she cared about was the man making love to her. Love? No...yes, it sounded right, at least in her dreams.

When she finally woke up, Buffy excused herself and walked up the aisle to the bathroom. Spike noticed that a bloke across the aisle was openly admiring at her sexy ass. When she was returning, the guy's admiration turned into a leer. Spike saw red but then caught himself. Buffy wasn't his to get jealous over. He had no say or hold over her. He wasn't her protector. However, when Buffy sat down and the git's leer got ugly, Spike had enough. He leaned forward and flashed a little fang. The ponce responded with shock and a good dose of fear. He didn't look their way again for the last four hours of the flight. Spike sat back satisfied. Yes, he did have, as it may be, a tenuous hold on Buffy. She was his mistress, his beautiful mistress, and only his for the time being. He didn't share, even if she was a slayer. And no way was he sharing Buffy. Spike chose to ignore his overly possessive feelings towards his lovely travel mate and decided to catch some shut eye.

*****

Buffy looked at the ceiling of her room in the inn and ran the last few hours through her mind. They had landed at Gatwick Airport barely before dawn and just made the half hour express train to London. When they arrived at Victoria's Station, they quickly hailed a cab and swept them into the traffic.

Buffy could tell, could feel that Spike was growing increasingly nervous. He was more than concerned when the sun was just breaking the horizon. But luck was with them. They arrived at the Ferret and Firkin in Chelsea Harbour before the deadly rays could bathe the street, and Spike raced inside while Buffy fumbled with paying the cabbie. In the lobby, to their left was a check in desk and a small restaurant and to the right was a pub. Buffy immediately loved the old, homey atmosphere and furnishings.

Their suite wasn't large but was comfortable and had a nice view of the street below. The one draw back was in such an old establishment, the retro fitted plumbing was sparse. Thus there was only one bathroom for their two bedroom suite. But neither paid it a thought when they headed for their respective bedrooms. All either of them cared about were their separate beds and sleep.

After waking up late in the afternoon, Buffy decided it was time for a shower to try to wash away her jet lag. She gathered up the needed supplies and a clean change of clothes, and when she walked out into the hall, she practically ran over Spike, who was also carrying supplies for the bathroom.

"Like minds." Recovering, Buffy gave him a hesitant smile. The image of Spike naked and wet was swimming around in her mind. Ah, what a luscious sight.

"You go first, missy." He was glad that he had slicked his curls back after his sleep before running into her; looking good for her now might pay off for him later. Spike turned to walk back to his room and then halted. What an opportunity he was missing!. Hadn't he just been dreaming about the minx and woken up with a vicious hard on? He turned back around and walked to the bathroom. Luck was with him. The door didn't lock properly. All it had was a latch that he was able to lift up. He walked in and shut the door. The room was starting to steam up from the hot, running water.

Buffy spun around. She put her hands on her hips, trying to look formidable in her bra to vampire who was obviously horny, judging by the bulge in his pants. Not that she was looking, of course. "What the hell are you doing in here?"

First off, Spike noticed that she didn't try to cover up. That alone turned him on. Spike's grin was closer to a leer than a smile. "I was thinking..."

"That is never good." Trying to look impatient, she tapped her foot on the floor. In actuality, she wanted to grab hold of him and eat him up.

Rolling his eyes in a way that Buffy would be proud of, he plunged on. "I was thinking. We have an arrangement, right?"

"Yes, we have a truce." Buffy felt like scratching her head. He interrupted her shower to discuss their lack of fighting? Color her embarrassed by her dirty assumption. Well, if he didn't leave, she was going to kick his ass.

"No, not the truce." He shifted his weight, looking unusually uncomfortable. Was she so naive that she really couldn't figure out why he was here? Or maybe she wanted to end the set-up and this was her way of doing it, William whispered in his head. "We are having a fling, right?"

Now she was starting to catch on. "Right." Oh, she wanted to catch on. Wasn't he hot in that t-shirt and jeans? Maybe he should take some clothes off, she thought. Even his bare feet were appealing. Why did an enemy have to be so sexy?

With a wink, he stepped forward and whispered into her ear. "Then let's fling." He leaned around her and checked the temperature of the water that she had already started running, intentionally brushing the side of her breast. "Do you like your showers... hot?" He drew the last word out and brushed her breast again while leaning back up.

Buffy took a breath, trying to steady herself. Her nipples had already begun to tingle. "Yeah." She nodded quickly, her eagerness almost comical.

Nonchalantly, Spike grasped her shoulders and turned her around so that her back was to him and undid her bra before turning her back to face him. With great restraint on his part, Spike slowly unfastened her pants and helped her out of them. He inhaled the heady scent of her arousal. He held it in for a moment, savoring it, before blowing it out. Next came the panties. When they were off, with a wicked smile, he rubbed them between his fingers and against his face before discarding them over his shoulder. Buffy thought to say how gross he was acting, but she realized that it wasn't. The forbidden, bad boy action just aroused her even more.

Pointing her towards the bath tub and holding the curtain back, Spike gave her a slap on the ass, making her jump. "Get your pretty little tush in that tub." After shooting a dirty look back at him, Buffy stepped into the tub.

TBC

 

Chapter 7 – Suds Play

As he swiftly shucked his own clothes, Spike smirked at Buffy's backside, looking at his red hand print on the right cheek of her ass. Just think, he, a vampire, had just spanked the tush of the Slayer and wasn't dust. That was something to brag about. If he kissed and told, that is, which he didn't.

Buffy stepped into the shower, which was actually an old claw footed tub with a shower head that was an obvious later addition to the original tub. She stood facing a frosted glass window at the back end of the tub. The water coursed over her smooth skin.

When Spike stepped into the front end of the tub, she turned and faced him warily. "What, pet? Scared now after all that we have done?" He stepped closer and placed his hands on her arms. "Remember. You're the one that came to me. You came to me to explore your sexuality. Well, if you want me to do my job, you have to follow my lead."

Without giving her time to reply, he turned her around so that she was facing the window, her back to him. At first, he just rubbed her arms, and then she felt his front against her back, their bodies touching in as many places as possible. She could feel his erection against her back. When he began rubbing up and down against her by bending his knees, her head lolled forward. She was standing straight up with her legs slightly parted and sparks flew off of her as his shaft traveled down her ass to her legs and then back up the crack, brushing her sensitive other hole. As the water rained down on them, his movements were slow and deliberate, causing pleasure with every inch his member traveled. A truly delicious tease. "So, pet," he purred in her ear, "how do you like these...experiments of ours?"

Buffy's mind was in a fog. "Ah...huh?..bad..."

"Now, be honest, slayer," Spike admonished as his arm snaked around and cupped her breast, squeezing firmly.

Despite the pleasure he was causing her, she slowly shook her head. "No, I can't like..."

"But you can and do." Spike pitched his voice like black velvet as he rolled her nipple between his finger and thumb. "Now, luv, tell it to me straight. How's the darkness coat fitting you so far?"

She turned her head around so she could see him. "I'm still...Darkness is still fuzzy around the edges. I get that the biting is dark. Mega dark. But the rest...a big huh?!"

Taking her head in his hands, he turned it so she was facing the window again and began to work on the tight muscles at the nape of her neck. "Ok, pet, let's see what you do know so far. Give me five adjectives."

"What's this?" She glanced back at him again. "I came all the way here for an English pop quiz in the shower?"

"Yes, and I am your teacher, missy." As he turned her to face him again, Spike listened to her mumble under her breath about hating school. He placed his hands on either side of her face and tipped her head up so that she looked into his eyes. "Now start answering." He knew he shouldn't, but he really wanted to know how she felt. He knew all of this was new to her and he realized that it was important to him that she was enjoying herself. Bloody hell, he knew he was.

Those blue eyes...Buffy was immediately lost. She could see the beauty and the darkness in his eyes. She realized that what she saw there was not all evil, but still nowhere near innocent. Surprisingly, the words came. "Need, lust, craving...raw desire," Buffy thought about when she was blowing him, "power, control, giving in, and I hate to say that the bonus word is...satisfying."

"Why? Why hate it? Satisfying is good, what you need." This was the root of the problem, Spike thought. She had been denying herself, not letting her dark side shine. But who could she have done those acts with? The only possibilities were the Big Brood, and he was sure Mr. Soul, Angel, would have only been prim and proper in bed even if he hadn't lost his soul over the deed, and Captain Cardboard...please! "Listen, luv. There is darkness in you. It's a part of you, the Slayer and the Woman. Why not satisfy that part of you? It's only natural, Slayer. Darkness doesn't have to be bad or evil. Dark is just that – dark. Kinky, if you want to call it that, fine, but you draw strength from it. The biting in bed adds spice, hot spice, but there are other things." He leaned in and gave her lower lip a quick nip. "Now, time for another lesson."

He wrapped her hands around the window sill. "You've better hang on for this, Buffy." Emphasizing their intimacy, he drew her name out using that velvety voice again. "But first, let's make with the cleanliness, and then we'll tune back to the darkness network." While Buffy was practically drooling in anticipation of the sexual sensations about to come her way, Spike grabbed a bar of soap and worked up lather between his hands. He began soaping up her arms, massaging as he went. This was so suddenly tame that Buffy didn't know what to think, and she was startled her into her right mind. Now that she noticed, every one of her slayer instincts told her that it was wrong, wrong, wrong to let Spike get behind her and to beware the vampire at her back. But no, he was right. She had come to him and, so far, he hadn't let her down. On the contrary, he had blown her mind. But she just wasn't sure about this circumstance. The other two times with him, she had still felt like she retained some control. But in this position, she felt like the control was all his. "I don't know about this..."

He ran the flat of his hand across her skin, starting at her neck all the way down to her ass, slightly in the crack. "Don't think." The sensations had begun. Using some of her shampoo, he quickly lathered up her hair and rinsed.

All soap gone, he massaged the nape of her neck and her shoulders with his thumbs, rubbing away any left-over jet lag she felt. Next, his hands ran all over her body, massaging and rubbing as they went. He moved on to her lower back. She noticed that he stayed focused on her back and waited to pay any attention to her breasts. Saving the best for last? Oh, yes. He slipped his hands around and started on her breasts, squeezing and kneading. He circled her areolas with his fingertips and drew his fingernail across her nipples. Each time his nail scraped across, tingles ran throughout her body, and she whimpered. Such a simple thing that felt so good. Would it have killed Riley to do that? Probably. Ah, a twist of her nipple. Even better. Then Spike's hands trailed down, again kneading her muscles as they made their way down her body. Why the hell was she thinking about Riley when she had this man? Vampire, Buffy, Spike's a vamp. Remember that. Why was that so hard lately? Because he is acting like he was a man and not a demon, a little voice whispered inside her head. Shhh.

Looking at her small, lithe body and the beautiful globes of her ass that begged to be squeezed, Spike wanted to drive into her heat right then and there. None of this preamble rubbish. This little girl needed to be fucked and fucked often. He could do that, he thought with a smirk on his face. She was turning out to be a good lay, inexperienced but good. She was definitely worth keeping around for awhile. At those thoughts, his inner William rebelled. She wasn't a piece of meat. She wasn't a slut or whore. She was a beautiful woman that deserved better treatment. Spike couldn't get mad since he really did ...well, he agreed. To tell the truth, he was enjoying this foreplay as much as she was. She felt exquisite under his hands.

Buffy tensed with anticipation. His hands were on her hips and soon would be level with her sex. And yes, she fairly quivered when his fingers passed through her course hair. Once down to her thighs, his hands nudged her legs apart; she was happy to oblige them. Then the strokes, the long, slow strokes, began over and over. He rubbed over her lips, her entrance and her other hole. Buffy's moans traveled around the bathroom, wrapping around them. But then he stopped too soon. Buffy jerked around and looked at him. "Hey..."

Spike raised his scarred eyebrow. "Relax, Sl...Buffy. You're," he held up his wet hands, "in good hands." He took one of those hands and turned her back around before reaching for the shower head that was on a long hose.

The water flowing over her felt good. She was sure he had something erotic in mind concerning the water. And he did. Surprising her, he changed the shower head setting to massage and angled the shower head so that it was pulsing on her clitoris. Buffy jumped at first...but then got very still. The sensation was incredible. It was like the hard, pounding sex with Spike. Bam, bam, bam in rapid fire, and she couldn't get enough. Oh, how good.

Abruptly the water was gone. Buffy's eyes shot open and flew down to Spike's upturned face. She found an evil grin on his face. That's it. No pulsing water equaled evil man. Her brain briefly flashed. Man? Again she was thinking of Spike as a man instead of a vampire. Maybe he could be both. He certainly wasn't an ordinary vamp.

Spike thoroughly enjoyed watching the expressions crossing over her face. When the water blast hit her sensitive nub, her eyes first slowly rolled up then closed in ecstasy. When the water was taken away, her eyes opened wide and turned on him.

When he made no move to continue, Buffy rotated her hips, her body crying out for the new sensation. Her gaze beseeched him to return her pleasure, but he made no move. He looked like he was expecting something...Wait. That's it. "Please." She watched him tilt his head and raise his scarred eyebrow, and his look conveyed his terms. Giving in was surprisingly easy. "Please, Spike."

Acknowledging her success at saying just the right thing, Spike brought his instrument of pleasure back to Buffy's tender regions. Her eyes closed again, and her breath caught. It gave her goose bumps even though it was warm water flowing over her.

Her climax built fast, faster than she would have imagined possible, and she could tell that it was going to be a big one. Gripping the window sill, her nails no doubt leaving half moon indentations in the paint, she yelled out when she flew over the water fall.

Reaching around Buffy as she rode out the waves of her orgasm, he hung the shower head back up. As part of the same fluid motion, he grabbed hold of Buffy's hips, bent her body forward, placed his member at her opening and drove into her from behind. She was hot and so tight, fitting him to perfection. As he surged forward, he pulled her back, having no doubt that he would leave bruises on her hips that would show the next day. She'd have war wounds to be proud of. At least he thought she should be.

Feeling Spike's shaft stretching her, sliding in and out at a quick pace caused Buffy to recover fast and smile as she listened to Spike groan. He felt so good inside of her. Hell, she felt so good. She had always thought that doggie style was degrading to the woman. Just the name sounded...yuk. How naïve she was. She accepted it, reveled in it. His hands on her hips, his tight painful grip, how hard he could make them collide together, even to the slapping of his sac on her clit. What was there not to love? The only down side was that she couldn't kiss him. She missed tasting him, feeling the cool intrusion of his tongue in her mouth.

Despite the grueling pace, he was able to hold his orgasm back and enjoy the woman who he was intimately connected with. Once the pace was set, he savored her joining in with the motion. As always with them, her force matched his own. They were perfectly in time with each other as in sex and fighting. Finally, he found his orgasm wouldn't be held back any longer. "Yessss." Wanting to bring her to her release at the same time, he reached around and stroked her clit. When he sank his fangs into her shoulder and drank, she came, lights sparkling before her eyes. A couple of more strokes, and he was shooting his seed into her tight channel. When he withdrew his fangs and started carefully licking, she saw the blood swirling the tub. But instead of being grossed out, as she should be at the sight of her own blood flowing down the drain, she found that she was ok with it; it was just a reminder of the pleasure just had.

Surprising him, she straightened up, quickly spun around, and latched her lips onto his. After a moment of tasting each other,
Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck and put her head on his chest. Both still had slight tremors from their encounter and were practically holding each other up.

"I couldn't kiss you in that position." She looked up at him and realized that she had just admitted missing something about him, missing some part of him. And...she was fine with it. "Don't get me wrong. I liked it, but I wanted to kiss you."

He watched as she blushed with her admission, but she had admitted it, and he found himself flattered. He had missed kissing her, too. Missed those warm, moist lips.

While drying off, the intimacy began to fade, and they both began to pull back inside of themselves, taking on their usual roles for the protection of their emotions. Before he left the bathroom, Spike noticed Buffy's punctures still oozed blood, and he leaned over and gently licked it until it stopped. Buffy was surprised but let him finish. Having helped close the wounds, Spike pulled back and saw the question evident on Buffy's face. "Your bite hadn't closed yet. It is now."

He hadn't fully understood why she was surprised. She was surprised not just by his touching her softly, gently, but by his compassion of sorts. In fact, it made her insides melt. "Thanks." Buffy looked at her pruned toes and then back at him. "I didn't know that position could be so..."

Spike's scared eyebrow slowly rose. "Bloody wonderful?" The words came out of his mouth in a rush, belying his aloof attitude he was trying to project.

Giving a little snort of laughter, she forced herself to look him eye to eye. "Thanks for showing me."

"Anytime, pet." Stepping closer to her, Spike ran his thumb across her cheek. "Anytime."

Still somewhat embarrassed by the subject matter, she gave a nervous laugh and turned to go to her room. "See you in twenty minutes?"

"Meet you in the sitting room, luv." As she walked away, Spike licked his lips. Just thinking of when he would have her in that position again made him hard. However, he would definitely make sure they would take it at a more leisurely pace the next time.

*****

 

Chapter 8 – Frankie's Place

Spike checked his clothes one more time and then kicked himself for caring so much. It was just the cheeky Slayer, not some hot date. But he rationalized his excessive care on his appearance on the fact that he would be seeing other people tonight. Maybe a beauty. "Like the beauty that will be next to you", the William inside of him whispered in his head. Sod it all! So off he went to meet her in the sitting room. "Come on, Slayer, makeup isn't going to help that mug," he bellowed, hoping to annoy her. Actually, thinking back to her in the shower earlier, she had looked just fine with no make-up at all.

Buffy jerked her door open. How the hell had he known that she had been worrying over her make-up? And for what? An overbearing, smart mouthed vampire. But geez, she hoped her hair looked good. She knew his would look perfect. It just wasn't fair that he was so gorgeous with such ease. And yes, she had just admitted to herself that he was good looking. The slayer in her be damned.

Her hair looked beautiful, Spike thought. It was strange. For the first time he noticed that he was no longer looking at her with the eyes of an enemy looking through a veil of hatred anymore. Instead, he was starting to look at her with the eyes of a lover, and right now his lover was beautiful in a lavender, long sleeved top and worn blue jeans that looked to be a second skin. Her hair was down, framing her face. When he realized the direction of his thoughts and his penis, he mentally shook himself. This was his foe, his adversary with whom he had a temporary truce. That's all. "Come on, Slayer, let's get at it."

Buffy grabbed a jacket and raced to catch up with Spike, which she didn't do until he was already half way to the Sloane Square Underground Station. She wasn't sure but his body language looked angry for some unknown reason. "Bleach Brain, what's up? You look all pissy."

"Pissy? Pissy? No, I'm just ducky." She thought he was annoyed, did she? Ha. He was just randy against his will. He had even had trouble walking at first, his hard-on was so big.

As they headed down into the subway station, Buffy's eyes were wide and round. "What is this place?"

"It's the Underground, London's subway. Hop on and enjoy." On the train, he kept his head forward, but his eyes kept darting to the side, admiring the enamored look on Buffy's face. From the looks of it, the subway must be the equivalent to Disney World for her. She was all but jumping up and down with glee. Bloody hell, how was he supposed to hate someone so...cute. She was adorable in her enthusiasm.

Before they even departed the train, she started badgering him. "After we wipe the ground with Frankenstein, can we ride the train some more? Could we see some other stations?"

Spike finally let his face crack into a smile. "Look, luv, we will ride it enough over the next few days." You've got to be kidding me, Spike groaned. She had the nerve to give him puppy dog eyes. "Ok, we'll do it. Shut you gob already, Slayer. We have work to do."

Spike looked again at the envelope they found in Sunnydale. 312 Crescent Street. Spike ushered Buffy off the train, or rather pulled her off the train, and out of the station. Then they walked three blocks into an old, seedy warehouse district tucked under the Wandsworth Bridge in Jew's Way.

"Here we are. Crescent. Yuk, and I do mean yuk." Buffy turned her nose up at a few warehouses up ahead over looking the Thames River. But Buffy was still pumped from the Underground. She started reading off the addresses. "242, 244..." They walked across an intersection, "302, 304..."

"I realize you know your numbers. Nummy treat for you later. But would you assume I do, too, and shut your gob?"

"A, B, C, D..." Buffy happily sung as she skipped along. "E, F, G..."

Spike tried to sound gruff, but she probably saw right through him. "Don't temp me, wench. I'll just throw you down that man hole. If I don't mean to hurt you, just throw you, I don't think the chip would fire." He only got a head tilt while she kept singing the alphabet. God, she was delightful.

"Here we are. Frankie's place." She stood facing a dark red brick building that looked like it hadn't been taken care of in the last century. Buffy walked up to the door and jerked open the handle, breaking the lock. Snap. The door opened, and she stepped inside while looking back over her shoulder. "Coming?"

They explored the large, open interior. The ceilings in the brick structure had to be at least thirty feet tall. The windows were set twenty feet up the walls, which let in some moonlight and made it possible for them to see. Scaffolding was erected in various places as though someone had started to repair the facility but gave up.

Spike lit a cigarette and slowly blew out a stream of smoke. "Got to say it's roomy."

Buffy was actually watching him instead of the surroundings. How did he make nasty smoking look so sexy? Maybe it was because it focused her eyes on his lips, those lips that did such wonderful things to her body. Back to slayer-mode Buffy. "Spacious in a grimy sort of way."

"Not like a mad doctor's lab jumping out at me here." Standing in the middle of the warehouse, Spike turned three hundred sixty degrees, shaking his head. His coat flared out around him. "There must be something here. Nothing up, but what about down? Sometimes these buildings have storage below."

"Right. Going down." Buffy started searching for some type of way below, a stairway of some sort.

"Here we go, pet." Buffy turned to spy Spike standing next to a post. As she walked closer, she could see that the post had two large red buttons on it. One with an arrow pointing up and the other had an arrow pointing down. As she stepped up to him, her boot heels clanged on a metal surface. She realized that Spike was standing on a large metal square; the post was attached to a corner of the square.

"Can I give you a lift, chickie?" Spike waggled his eyebrows at her

"Pathetic jokes much?" Buffy tapped her heel a few times, studying the minimalist lift. "It's only the 'el' of an elevator."

The vampire took another drag off of his cigarette to hide his mirth. "'S not a people elevator, but a freight elevator. Want a ride, pet?"

"Sure." Buffy braced her feet and hoped for the best.

As soon as the elevator broke from the level of the floor, light came out around the piece of metal they were riding. "Looks like we've found the cache." The lower they went, the more medical and electrical equipment was revealed.

"Found his lair, but no Frankie." Buffy was amazed by all the equipment.

Only two steps into the room, Spike froze, and Buffy watched him sniff the area. "It's not me. I put on deodorant before we left."

"No, luv, I smell," he inhaled deeply again, "fear. Someone reeks of fear and that most certainly would not be you, Slayer." He glanced at her and caught her gaze. "I don't want to smell fear on you, firebrand." Spike didn't know where that had come from, but he meant it. He now felt his all time rival, who he had once tried to bring her to her knees in fear, was above being scared. She was better than that. Uncomfortable with his thoughts, he pushed away any more self realizations. He wasn't prepared to examine his feelings for her any further just yet. It scared him just knowing he had any feelings for her besides hate. He was a vampire, and vampires hate slayers. That simple.

Buffy took his comment as a compliment and smiled. It felt good, even special to receive a compliment from Spike where there was usually only sarcasm. Who would have thought it would feel so good? She was even more shocked to realize that his opinion meant something to her. She was above fear. That's what he said. That was a high compliment coming from someone who used to revel in trying to cause her fear.

Spike started to prowl, steadily heading for the far corner of the basement. "Fe, Fi, Fo, Fum, I smell the smell of a science chum." Spike walked a few more yards into the large room, stopped and took another deep whiff.

As Buffy watched from the elevator, Spike turned to stone. Not literaly of course, but every muscle in his body froze before her eyes. Involuntarily, she held her breath and instinctually stood still. Finally, he moved his hand just enough to point to a corner of the lab, then bringing his fingers and thumb together again and again, signaling for her to start talking and keep talking. She could do that. "I don't know, Spike. I don't think anyone is here." She watched as he stalked his prey. "After all that bleach, I think you have a brain like Spongebob, all full of holes." That earned her a black glare over his shoulder. She just winked. That got a double take from the vampire, and she smiled. He really looked adorable when he was all perplexed. She would have to remember...what was she thinking? This was evil Spike. What she needed to remember was that he was evil. She may be having sex with him, but that doesn't mean she has to...has to...well, flirt with him – even it was fun. "Besides I don't think this Frankenstein guy has such a complex. I mean, look at all these big machines. He must be making up for a small..."

Spike pounced. Reaching behind a large generator, he pulled out a man in an old fashion, royal blue suit and black, lace up shoes. He looked to be under five feet six inches tall with salt and pepper hair. "Please, please, don't hurt me." His voice held a faint German accent along with obvious fear.

"Hold your water, ponsy prat." What Spike failed to see was that when he jerked Frankenstein out, the doctor pulled a cable along with him.

Buffy had relaxed. That little guy was no danger, especially with Spike breathing down his neck. Then hell broke loose in the form of the electrical cable the doctor grasped. As she looked on, Frankenstein brought up the end and shocked Spike in the side. Buffy stood transfixed, watching Spike writhe for about five seconds. When he let go of Frankenstein, that's when Buffy moved toward them. However, she couldn't make it there before Frankenstein shocked Spike again before running to the other side of the lab. Intercepting him, Buffy clothes lined him and put her foot on his chest to hold him down. She looked up to see Spike staring down at his chest. "Spike...Spike?"

The fog lifted, and Spike came out of his daze. "Oh...right." Well, just barely alright.

Picking the good doctor up, Buffy held Frankenstein so that his feet were dangling. "You're not going anywhere." She then punched him in the nose. "And that's for shocking Spike." Buffy was surprised just how angry she was over Spike's pain. She shouldn't be but was mad that a doctor shocked a vampire. That should be a good thing, but instead she saw red. She shook Frankenstein again just for good measure.

Spike chuckled. The Slayer was beautiful when she was irate. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he started the interrogation. "So, Doc, been hunting the Slayer, have you?"

Frankenstein's eyes darted between Spike and Buffy. "I was told to. It...It was like I was compelled. I had to do it."

Throwing him to the ground in disgust, Buffy stood over him. "So why aren't you still hunting me?"

The doctor was quick to answer. "Actually, we were on the same plane here, and I was regrouping to try again."

Spike looked around the lab and then at the corpse on one of the long, porcelain tables. "Making yourself a new helper, were you? Well, what we want to know is about who is pulling your strings."

"I don't know who it is..." Buffy kicked him. "I really don't know anything. A few days ago, I was suddenly in the lab. I found a letter and followed the instructions. I'm telling you that I had to."

"We found your instructions in your hotel room. But all that was left of the envelope was this address and only London from the return address. What was the rest?" Spike walked over to Frankenstein and Buffy.

"I don't kn..."

"Wrong answer." Buffy jerked him back up on his feet.

"Uh...uh...SW. The address is in the SW. That's it. That's all I remember." Frankenstein was visibly shaking. Buffy was thankful that he hadn't wet himself while she was holding him up. She looked over at Spike. "Do you think that's all he knows?"

Spike sniffed the air again. "I only smell fear, no deception. Probably a safe bet that the ponce is tapped out."

"So what do we do with Mr. Zap?" Standing the doctor up, she reached over and poked his rather rotund belly. "He's human, isn't he?"

"Good guess as any, pet. Smells like it. Let's see to make sure." Spike didn't waste a punch on the pansy. Instead he kicked him in the seat of his royal blue suit. "No zap. He's demon. So that means I can..." He grabbed Frankenstein on each side of his head. Snap, the neck was broken, and as had the two monsters in Sunnydale, he faded away.

"Way weird everytime that happens." No matter that she had seen it before, her eyes were still saucers. "I mean way weird."

"This may really be a wild guess, but maybe since he was just a literary character, I'm guessing he might be going back to his book." The vampire shrugged his shoulders. "Won't the conjurer get pissed. Nothing like spoiling someone's day to make your own."

Buffy turned to face him with her hands on her hips but wanted to smile looking at his cocky grin. "And you could teach lessons on that."

His smirk told her he wasn't talking about their usual fights. "I've caused you to yell lately."

Trying to unsuccessfully brush his comment off, Buffy rolled her eyes and flipped her hair. "I yelled just for your benefit."

"Oh, no, you didn't, luv. Those yells were all done in pleasure." Now he leered at her, running his tongue across his upper teeth.

Unexpectedly changing stream, Spike crossed the room and picked up the electrical cable that Frankenstein had shocked him with. Before Buffy could make it across the room to stop him, he touched the cable to his skin and shocked himself.

Buffy was horrified. He may be her enemy, he may be evil, but it made her sick to her stomach watching him hurt himself so severely. When she made it to him, she couldn't believe that he was looking at his chest and grinning. She smacked him in the side of the head. "Masochist much? You shocked yourself."

Spike looked up at her with wonder in his eyes. This time when he shocked himself, Buffy was able to jerk the cable away. "What are you, Sponge Bob again?"

"No," his voice was hushed, full of reverence, "my heart was beating."

"Huh? With an accent on huh??" Now Buffy knew for sure that Spike's marbles were short a few.

"The shock causes my heart to beat." He looked at her with a look of awe.

Buffy was astounded and wasn't sure what to say. "Wow...I mean...wow."

"It feels so strange, a fascinating strange. Here." He reached for the cable again. "Listen." Intense blue eyes looked into hazel ones. "I want you to hear it." He wanted to share the experience, needed to share it. Maybe he would have shared it with anyone, but he had to be honest about this for some reason. She was the one he would have chosen over anyone, even Dru. His dark princess only appreciated death. Buffy would understand the awe of a long dead heart in a demon coming to life even for a few seconds.

He shocked himself again, and when he moved the cable away, he quickly pressed the back of her head so that her ear was against his chest.

Thump, thump...thump, thump. Buffy looked up at Spike in marvel. His blue eyes sparkled down at her. It was a special moment that he was sharing with her. "That's amazing." But not a shock,. Buffy realized. Spike so often acted like he had a heart that it wasn't surprising when his heart actually did beat.

Spike was riding a massive high and all he could see was her face, her lips. Tossing the cable a safe distance away, keeping his hand on the back of her head to immobilize her, his lips captured hers in a crushing kiss. His tongue immediately gained entrance, and he tasted her, this delicious slayer taste, that spoke of slayers but was still unique to Buffy. He sought out her tongue as his free hand explored her back, kneading and rubbing. He quickly slipped his hand under her shirt and undid the clasp of her bra, giving him free roam of her back, her skin warm to the touch. Yes, his heart had beaten, and he was going to show her how much.

Surprisingly, Buffy pulled back. "I...I want you." Her cheeks flamed bright red with embarrassment, but there was lust burning in her eyes.

*****

TBC
 

Chapter 9 – Is There A Doctor In The House?

"Nothing wrong with admitting that, pet." He cupped her face in his hand and brushed his thumb across her cheek. "I want you, too. Bad."

But there it was --- something wrong. She was a slayer, and he was a vampire, she thought, and she wanted him so much that it hurt. But forget what was right or wrong. She wanted this. Spike's enthusiasm and energy was contagious and, just like for him, the energy went straight to her sex drive. That must be her dark side again, which was fine. Laying her head on his chest, listening to a long dead heart beat, had made her hot. When wasn't this vampire sparking a fire within her?

As these thoughts crossed her mind, she happened to glance at the spot next to them. Staring back at her was the cadaver, making her jump. "We're next to a dead body."

Spike wasn't going to let something like a dead body kill his buzz. "So?" His smile was wicked. "And it may have laid right here." He patted the table that was behind Buffy. Before she could completely turn to look, Spike swung her up into his arms and stood her up on the table. When Buffy started to protest, Spike put his finger to his lips in the universal symbol to be quiet. "Remember, Slayer. You came to me to explore the darker side of you. Well, pet, this lab fits the bill nicely."

After taking another quick look around the lab, especially at the dead body, Buffy looked down at the vampire who was making fast work of the button and zipper of her pants. While he pulled them down and quickly kissed the triangle of hair at the apex of her legs, she made up her mind to indulge her dark side. But she still was a little surprised by how delicious the kinkiness of the place was. In fact, she laughed out loud when he gallantly spread out his coat over the table, picked her up again and sat her on the edge. He pulled her shoes and pants the rest of the way off, sending them both flying across the room, and then pulled both her shirt and jacket over her head. She was becoming as jazzed as he was by the time he laid her naked down on the table. Then the fun really began.

Spike was in danger of busting out of his zipper, he was so hard. He was happy to see that Buffy had no shyness in her gaze when she looked at him. "Luv, you are stunning." And he meant it. She was a golden goddess. He had seen other slayers, other women, but Buffy...she surpassed them all. She wasn't dark like Drusilla had been, but light, which he didn't deserve, to tell the truth. But why let such a silly thing like right or wrong stop him now? But it wasn't just her looks that he admired. What he admired about her lay under her gorgeous skin and showed itself in all sorts of ways. Her strength, her heart, loyalty to her friends, her ability to fight, and even her smart mouth. Wasn't often he found someone that could trade quips with him as well as she did. Overall, he realized that he appreciated the woman that was Buffy Summers. At that thought, the demon in him rebelled. This was the Slayer. Fuck her, kill her or get the bloody hell away from her. Spike opted for using her sexy body that his hands were itching to touch. And he did. He placed his hand flat at the top of Buffy's chest and drew it down slowly, feeling her skin with his open hand, crossed over her mound and then down her leg. Licking his lips, he repeated the process.

"Dr. William, I'm having this pain." Spike started to protest her use of his given name, but she sounded so coquettish saying it that he let it slide. Ok, a playful, little slayer wanting to play at the kink could use his real name. Honestly, the way she was calling him William made this play-acting naughty in a more intimate way.

Nonetheless, surprised down to the tips of his Doc Martens, Spike cocked his scarred eyebrow. Role playing certainly wasn't a sexual taste he thought Buffy had acquired. "Dear patient, where are you hurting?"

She laughed at the upper crust accent he affected, not knowing that it was his true one, and her eyes were wide and innocent. "I'm not sure." She couldn't believe she was doing this, playing doctor with a vampire in a lab. Too crazy, but she was, and from the desire she could see in his eyes, she was playing the game correctly.

"Not sure?" Now this could be even more interesting. "Well, missy, I will just have to examine your...body." He moved up even with her head. "How about here?" He leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. Her mouth was already open, waiting and willing;, her tongue shot forward and met his while it was still in his mouth. He smiled against her lips. The kiss turned wild, hard, and demanding. The tide turned and his tongue searched hers, skimmed the inside of her cheeks and ran across first the inside then the outside of her teeth. Goose bumps raised on Buffy's skin.

When Spike let up on Buffy so she could breathe, he purred into her ear. "Is that where it hurts?"

Buffy's voice was breathy but still undeniably inviting. "No, not there."

"Let's try lower." Spike's hand drifted past her shoulder to cup her breast, immediately kneading, caressing, and restless on her flesh. "Anything, Miss Summers?"

"I'm...ah...not sure." Buffy wasn't sure of anything anymore.

Spike rolled her nipple between his fingers and thumb, and enjoyed the sound of her moans. Encouraged, he pinched and pulled her hard nub. When he pulled up and the nipple popped from his grasp, a sharp, delicious shooting pain ran across her chest, and Buffy cried out in pleasure. "Oh, yeah."

"Well, Ms. Summers?" His hand continued to massage her breast and roll her nipples.

Spike's hand on her breast made it hard to talk. Buffy's thoughts mixed with her strong sensations, jumbling her words. "I'm...ah...not sure..."

With an evil smile, Spike wasn't ready to give up his quest. He fondled her breast then tweaked her nipple, harder this time.

Buffy's voice now sounded choked. "Please Spike...I hurt so bad...Need you so bad."

'Please?' She was begging him.! She was admitting out loud that she needed him. The Slayer was begging a vampire to have sex with her. His desire for her shot through the roof and was rewarded when she arched her back into his hand and gave a "yes" when he pulled her nub. "Ms. Summers?"

"Ah...so good but," she panted, "not there...ah..." Beads of sweat popped up all over her forehead.

"Lower?" Spike trailed his fingers down to her course curls.

"Yes...Oh, God, yes." She couldn't believe what was going on. She was in England, in a basement, next to a corpse, playing doctor with a vampire. That corpse part was definitely of the dark...and she loved Spike's every move, his every touch on her body. All the rest was adding wicked spice to the experience. "More...Dr. William, search more."

No problem there, Spike thought. He couldn't stop touching her burning body if he tried. Her body drew him in, called to him. "Ms. Summers, I promise I will keep searching until I find what ails you."

'What ails me?' Buffy groaned. What ailed her were the excruciatingly slow movements Spike was making on her body. If she wasn't enjoying "playing doctor" so much, she would have stripped and mounted Spike in thirty seconds flat. "Dr..." Buffy's voice sounded pained.

Spike smiled a sinful smile. "Playing doctor" was impromptu, and he was shocked she would initiate such a game. He seriously doubted that her past experiences included such sex games. But he had her now, had her nubile, sizzling body laid out in front of him, served up on a white, porcelain platter. The doctor was definitely in the house and about to be in her.

With such a treat in front of him, he was having a hard time going slow, but he would draw this waking wet dream out for a....A dream? Since when did having sex with the slayer become a dream for him? Since now, he realized. This gorgeous, responsive creature under his hands was a dream come true and that didn't sit well with him. Spike decided to not think about the line between impersonal sex and some kind of attachment with the act. He was going to stay on the far, back side of the non-feelings part of the court. Instead, he focused all his attention back on Buffy's body. How could he not? He was a male, Spike thought, and his male member was pointing the way. "Ah, naughty girl," Spike ran his hand into her public hair, "you shave your bikini line." Using his nails, Spike scratched the roots of her hair, almost tickling her.

Buffy giggled like the young girl as he had teasingly called her. Who would have thought something so simple as a soft scratch would be so erotic? She nearly jumped, though, when his hand cupped her mound with his middle finger lying down through her sex. She arched into his hand as his finger slid back and forth, causing a light friction.

Spike was mesmerized by the changing and shifting expressions across her face. He could see pleasure, delight, ecstasy, and wonder. What a shame that wonder was one of those expressions. She should have known this simple enjoyment and known it often before now. Because she was inexperienced, he was taking things slow. He meant to take it slow until she was more confident in their sex, but tonight she was acting pretty confident.

She looked up with pleading eyes, and his hand immediately responded by sliding down, and his finger entered her. He watched as her eyes squeezed shut, and she sucked in her breath.

His smile was wicked. "Ah, Ms. Summers, it looks like I have found the spot."

She shifted her hips, enjoying the feel of his cool digit in her hot channel. "Yes, Dr..." Buffy's voice came out choked. "A little more...aaahhh..."

Spike slid two fingers into her heat, effectively stopping her speech. He teased her clit with his thumb and ran his fingers inside her, enjoying her enthusiastic response. Her back arched up off the table. just
before she suddenly reached out and grabbed hold of his package, squeezing his shaft and balls. Her grip was to the point of painful, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. He let out a heart felt moan.

What Spike was doing to her body was as electrifying as if he had shocked her instead of himself, and her system needed more jolts. Holding onto his rock hard erection, pulling him closer, she knew what she needed. "Now, Doctor, that you have the right place," Buffy panted for a moment, "I need the cure." Buffy looked up at him, never blinking. "And as good as your fingers feel inside of me...Spike, I need you now. NOW!"

He wanted to tease the slayer longer, continue drawing this experience out for both of them, but her hand and pleading eyes decided it. "I've got the cure that you need, luv." She had called him Spike instead of doctor. She wanted him, not a make believe man. He was thrilled, but he didn't want to think about how much that meant to him. Spike undid his belt and lowered his pants enough to set himself free. He stepped to the end of the table and pulled her towards him so that her ass was at the very end of the table. He stepped up between her legs. To cover his uneasiness with her intimate use of his name, Spike kept up the play. "Sorry, Ms. Summers, there are no stirrups available." He moved her legs to rest on his shoulders.

Buffy loved their little game and easily fell back into it. "But, Doctor, I need the cure only you can give me," Buffy purred. "Give it to me."

Grasping himself, Spike rubbed the head of his member against her opening. "Ahhh, is it here?" That was when Buffy leaned up, grabbed Spike by his black t-shirt, and yanked him forward, driving him into her. Her smile was evil when he made a noise somewhere between a bark of laughter and a moan. She had what she so desperately wanted, his cool length buried deeply inside of her. She lay back on the table and prepared for the onslaught of pleasure that she had come to expect from Spike.

Holding onto her hips, Spike began to move. There was no slow going now. His need for this little slayer was too great after such foreplay. Buffy's back arched every time he slid inside of her. His gaze fixated on her neck. As much as he wanted to sink his fangs into her jugular, he settled for biting her the insides of her calves with blunt teeth.

Spike was almost embarrassed how quickly his orgasm was building, but judging on the constriction of her channel, she was in the same shape. "Now for the cure, Ms. Summers." He reached under her arched back and brought her up towards him. Buffy felt a delicious tingle down her spine when his face shifted into his demon visage. The possible danger only turned her on more. Holding her up by one hand on her back, he bent his head down and, with the other hand, he lifted her breast, biting her where his fangs sank in around her nipple. The first pull of her blood sent her simultaneously over the edge. Then he was slamming into her, spilling his seed deep inside of her. She could feel his shaft pulse, emptying itself in time with his swallows of her blood, causing her to peak again with him.

Still buried in her but retracting his fangs, Spike licked her wounds before he looked back up and rested his forehead on hers. Without breaking this contact, Buffy gave him a light kiss on the lips. "Thanks for the cure, doc."

The tenderness in her voice warmed his insides. "Your welcome, Miss Summers."

Buffy wasn't sure about this tender moment. The first two times they had sex, she had left immediately. The time in the shower she left and went to her room. But this time seemed different. Neither of them seemed inclined to move away any time soon. So she decided to take advantage of the situation and give him another kiss, open mouthed this time, warm on cool lips, warm breath and tongue meeting cool. She realized that she was growing to love the temperature difference. It made it so that she could feel him more acutely.

She finally pulled back and looked into his azure eyes. "That was good."

"Good?!" He was comically horrified.

Buffy thought he was adorable when he did that head tilt thing. God, he really was cute. "The doc, the in me, the bitey, and the kissage. All of the good."

"'...Of the good.'" Spike nodded with a smile, but he still thought it was better than good. It had been bloody fantastic. Oh, what this girl did to him.

"I'll have to invite you down to my basement when we get back to Sunnydale." Oh my gosh, Buffy couldn't believe what she had just said. She had practically invited him into her home to have sex, and she had implied a future for them. That second one was the most disturbing. Or was it? As she laid there with his cock still inside her, a future didn't sound all that unimaginable.

Spike hadn't missed her suggestion. The Slayer, in her own basement, under the Scoobies' noses sounded like a delightful, forbidden pleasure. But no, something wasn't right; he knew what it was and just didn't want to admit it. He didn't want to have to sneak around with this beautiful woman. The both deserved better, but he wasn't about to let their deal slip between his fingers. Not now. He had no idea when he would ever have enough to want to stop.

******
TBC
 

Chapter 10 – Just A Little Drink

As they exited the warehouse, Buffy walked with a spring in her step. Her body was humming after the fantastic hanky panky with Spike, and they were on their way to the speedy subway. Zoom. Double bonus round. And having this sexy platinum blonde by her side made it a triple win. Whoa. Wait a second. When did it become a plus to walk anywhere with Spike, an annoying, arrogant vampire she should be staking instead of marveling at how he had made her feel below the waist. No, she had to keep reminding herself this wasn't some friend, some pal with her out for a stroll. This was William the Bloody, after all.

Spike was walking with his usual arrogant attitude but thinking much the same as Buffy was. He was reminding himself that this wasn't a mate. This was a slayer who was born to kill his kind. But, oh, did she feel good and taste good. Every time he slipped his cock into her heat, his mind wanted to melt. Spike had to keep reminding himself to stay detached. He didn't care for the girl by his side. No, no way. She was...collapsed on the ground at his feet. He looked down at her and then up at three punks, one of which was holding a piece of pipe.

The one in the green jacket looked down at her with wide open eyes. His words came out slightly slurred. False courage through tipping up a few, Spike surmised. "Hey, did you kill her?"

The guy with the pipe ignored his mate and got to the point. "Look, blondie, give us your blunt?" He waved his pipe in what he thought was a menacing manner. "Pass it over, or...or she gets another one."

The third punk, holding a chain, laughed a laugh that crawled up Spike's spine. "Why don't we knock him out and play with her instead?"

His spine was right. Mr. Chain was a rapist. That did it. They may be human, but he didn't care about the impending pain. He would try to avoid it, but these thugs were not going to put a hand on this woman lying at his feet. He let instinct kick into high gear. His demon rushed forward, all wrinkled forehead, fangs, and yellow eyes looking back at the trio.

"Look at that, Chris. His face...What are you, man? You freak!" The green jacket guy's words were now clear as a bell. Fright could be such a buzz kill, Spike smirked around his fangs.

"No, boy, I'm the nightmare within your nightmares." Spike flashed fangs again, but the trio were obviously still too stupid to run away. Then they made a fatal error, they took a swing at Spike with a thick chain. As Spike dodged the blow, his mind was racing. He couldn't hit them, and they weren't afraid of his game face. They must be flying high on PCP or something if they were not turning tail and running away. Now he tried physical proximity. Nope, doesn't work at all, and bam, the one with the chain hit him. With the chain wrapped around his torso, Spike went down on his knees. The other boy hit him with a pipe, laying Spike out. Then he took a few more blows that nearly knocked him out cold.

The punk with the chain dropped his weapon and spit on Spike. "Come on, he's toast. Grab the girl, and we'll go on down the alley. We'll wear her hot, little twat out."

Spike shook his head trying to clear it. He wasn't sure which one made the mistake of saying that about Buffy, but it didn't matter. They would all pay. By the time he struggled to his feet, they were half way down the alley, dragging Buffy behind them. At the sight, his adrenaline pumped over time. He started at a walk but soon picked up speed until he was racing. He took the first one out, slamming into the thug and in turn the guy slammed into a wall. A well placed spin kick took out the second. The third, who had dragged Buffy, tried to run. Spike tripped him, causing him to fall on his face. Spike kicked him with just shy of enough force to break his ribs.

The vampire continued to rain down blows. "You pitiful piece of shit..." Kick. "Picking on women..." Punch. "Have to knock them out..." Kick. Punch. "To have a poke." Spike backhanded to the guy against the wall just for good measure. Finally he picked each punk up and gave them one last well placed punch and so it was nighty-night for them all. Then the infuriated vampire threw them away in a trash bin like the rubbish they were.

When he turned to go to Buffy, it hit him. He had just taken out three humans – that's humans – and no zap to the noggin. The revelation weakened his knees, and he had to lean against a wall for support. He was free of the chip, the bane of his existence. A footloose and fancy free creature of the night again. No more taking shit off of humans like Xander, the bleedin' whelp. Oh, how he looked forward to punching that git hard on the jaw. But in the last few moments, he had learned another advantage of his chip no longer working. He could protect a human. He wouldn't in a million years have thought that such a benefit would be a positive for him, and it worked.

But right now Buffy was more important. His gaze focused on the alley again. Moving to her, he sat down with his back against the wall and pulled her into his lap. As he gently cradled her, he was struck by all the ramifications of his chip no long functioning. Looking down and stroking her beautiful face, he knew the Slayer would surely stake him now he had his fangs back. She had said so, and he had no doubt that she had meant it. Running his hand through her hair, he thought about how this small girl actually had the ability to stake him, a master vampire. Or she could at least try. Chuckling, with his finger tip, he traced her eyebrows, down her nose and along her lips. Those lips, kissing her made him sizzle all over, made him warm for the first time since he was human. He realized that he didn't want to lose her heat. As a sexual partner, she matched him as if they had been intimate for years.

Then his stomach rumbled, reminding him of how glad unlife would be when he got back to the inn and his blood supply... wait. He was holding a blood bank. Delicious, potent, warm blood. He unconsciously licked his lips. His eyes focused on her neck. He could hear her blood coursing through her veins. Smell the couple of drops of blood that had escaped her wound. But...But...Not now. He could do it anytime now that the chip didn't work any longer, couldn't he? Didn't matter if he hurt her or not. He could fuck her, use her, and when he got bored, he could eat her up during one of their sessions. Yeah, that was it. He brushed her hair off her forehead, his actions belying his thoughts. He would wait and bide his time. But why didn't killing a slayer sound as good as it use to? He knew. He had to admit it. The kill didn't sound so good since he had gotten so close to this slayer. Oh, God, no. It was horrible. Now she was Buffy, a warm, attractive lover, not a cold blooded slayer. Bloody hell, he should toss her across the alley and rush out into the night to hunt, head for someplace that she wasn't. As her eye lids began to flutter, he knew he wasn't leaving her. At least no time soon.

Spike brushed at her bangs again. "Hello, cutie." He helped her sit up, but also making sure she stayed in his lap.

Buffy rubbed at one of her open eyes. "You said that when you came to me about a truce against Angelus."

Spike was surprisingly flattered that she had remembered the small line from over two years previous. "So how's the noggin, pet? London seems to be more dangerous for you than Sunnydale."

"The spinning is slowing down." Buffy realized where she sat – on a very comfy, vampire lap. Ooohh, a little too close here. She slowly climbed off and sat with her back to the wall and instantly missed his lap. Tenderly, she rubbed a spot above her ear and found a long lump.

Spike playfully brushed her hand away and parted her hair for a look see. "Luv, no brains leaked out...ompf." Spike laughed at the elbow she gave him in the ribs. "No, I'd say you are going to be a little off your game for tonight." Why was he even concerned about her lump? She got hit. She passed out. She woke up. All done. Let's move on. But the problem was that somewhere in his dead heart he was, as disgusting as it was, developing a soft spot for the bint. In one word, BUGGER, but true. The Slayer was getting to the Big Bad, creeping into his heart.

"But I will be back on first string tomorrow." She made to stand up, but her head started pounding again, making it mandatory for her to use Spike's offered help. "By the way, what happened? I barely saw three guys before boom, pretty stars, and I was Miss Unconscious Girl. Were they human?" When he steadied her, she smiled in thanks and looked at him with a warm gaze, as if he were a beloved friend, not her enemy.

This was it. Time to decide what to tell her. Did he tell her about the chip? She had always said that she would stake him if the chip was out, and he certainly didn't want to spend this trip to the homeland dusty. Even with the warm gaze she had given him, he didn't dream that the Slayer was developing a soft spot for him as he was for her. Ha. She would rather care about an obese rshaak slime demon. So what should he do? What he did so well - bend the truth. "Yeah, they were human, but the Big Bad sent them running with a show of fangs. Not a problem."

"I know - happy meals to you but save your bites for me..." Buffy slapped her hand over her mouth. "I didn't just say that."

Spike's leer was instantaneous. "Yes, you did, Slayer. Your dark side is showing." He leaned down close to her ear. "Want to hear where I'm going to nip you next, missy?"

Buffy elbowed him again but couldn't hide a smile. His bites were deliciously erotic. Definitely a plus in the sex department, and the orgasms they caused were like a triple fudge cake, sinfully good. She walked fast ahead so that he couldn't see her bright red face.

Spike couldn't believe what had just come out of the Slayer's mouth. He knew she was enjoying the bites, or she wouldn't let him keep doing it. But to admit it...bloody hell, she had actually admitted it that she enjoyed them. Well, he would have to be sure he was fangy again soon, and he would choose a delectable spot. But not the neck, at least not for awhile. That was just too close to a dusting, but there were more spots for the choosing. Yes, the lass had real potential.

Arriving at the inn, they walked into the pub below their rooms. It was one in the morning, and the patrons were full of liquor and boisterous. "Patient Summers," he said with a wink and a laugh at her blush, "I am prescribing you a pint of Guinness."

As Spike smiled at her, Buffy didn't think she would ever see a doctor in the same light again. It made her all warm and tingly just thinking about lying on that table in Frankenstein's basement under Dr. William's care. "Doctor, I warn you that beer doesn't affect me well. Buffy and beer are not mixy."

He luckily found some space at the bar and seated Buffy. Buffy noted that his manners seemed gentlemanly, not Spike- like at all, and she wondered what was behind the change. After he ordered for them, she also noticed how close he stood behind her while they waited for their drinks, and how he leaned down to make his comments in her ear instead of yelling at her over the crowd. His low, sexy voice made her melt inside. At times like these, she didn't think she knew Spike at all. He acted more like...like an attentive boyfriend, and a kissable one at that. Bite your tongue, Buffy. What are you thinking? Kissing is only for the bedroom with her sex partner, certainly not in public and especially not as a show of affection.

Buffy looked at the near black, foamy liquid that was set in front of her. "This isn't beer."

Spike appeared affronted. "This is Guinness."

Soon after, he found out that Buffy hadn't been kidding. The Slayer was already drunk and giggling. "Psst, Spikey."

He thought she was lovely. "Yes, luv." He leaned down so that his cheek just gently brushed her own.

Enjoying the touch but pulling back and spinning around on her stool to look at him, she tried her best to look him steadily in the eyes. "What was with your wacko Morticia?"

Startled, Spike jerked upright. It had been such a curve ball that the question left him blinking, trying to get his bearings. "Is that your valley girl way of asking about Dru?" he asked to clarify and buy a little time.

"Yep." Buffy rocked her head from side to side. "Ding, dong, ding, dong."

There was a time that he would have killed Buffy where she sat for talking about Dru that way. And now he could do it, too, since the chip had stopped functioning. But, no, the rush of feelings he expected didn't come. He would always love Drusilla, he could feel that, but instead of being a vibrant love, it felt faded. Not gone, just in the back of his heart. He had a good idea that he would regret this, but he would go for it anyway. "So, pet, what would you like to know about Dru?"

Buffy bit her lip for a minute, giving a tell tale sign that she was nervous. "Had she cheated on you before that Chaos Demon in South America?" Preparing to duck, she thanked the Initiative for Spike's chip so he didn't hit her for that question.

Spike looked for the pain, but like the love, it had receded into the land of the past. The present was sitting before him with gorgeous hazel eyes trained on him. A thought that truly scared him to death. Instead of the ridicule he expected from her, he could see sympathy in them, and he didn't know what to make of that. He chose to keep his answer simple. "Yes."

Over the rim of her glass, Buffy continued her quest for knowledge. "And you took her back every time?"

"Every time." He tried to picture Dru, conjure up her image, but all he continued to see was the blonde seated in front of him. He tried to picture making love to Dru, but instead saw Buffy riding him. He quickly shook off that last vision. "Why the inquisition, nosey nit?"

Buffy stared sightlessly over his shoulder, trying to comprehend his feelings and her own. "I'm...I'm just envious." She looked him back in his eyes. "To have someone love you for a hundred years without wavering is wow." Without realizing it, she had cupped his cheek, brushing her thumb on the sharp contours of his cheekbones. "You loved her so much that you always took her back. I would have punched the other man into tomorrow and sent Drusilla packing. You just had such devotion."

Or stupidity, Spike thought. Regardless, the answer was simple for him. "Because I loved her."

Buffy searched his face, trying to understand. "I'm just envious that you loved her so much that you were always there for her." Tilting her head to the side, Buffy wondered out loud. "Why did you leave for good this last time? It is permanent, isn't it?"

Before these last few days with Buffy, he would have answered that he didn't know. But things were different now. It shook him to the core realizing how Buffy had affected his unlife. "Yes, this time I imagine that it's permanent."

That answer made Buffy's spirits rise. But why? She shouldn't care. They were just having sex. No strings or emotions attached. Or so she could keep telling herself that, staying in la la land. He was a hottie and fabulous lover. Those were two factors she could admit and gladly stick to.

What was Spike going to tell her about why this time the split with Dru would be permanent? 'Dru told me that she could see you all around me and that I now taste like ashes to her?' And he was shocked to realize that Dru had been right. The Slayer had become a part of his life. But as for taste, he didn't taste of ashes. He now tasted of Buffy, and she was quite tasty, which was surprisingly not as bad as he thought it would have been.

Luck was on his side, though. Buffy's alcohol soaked brain was already onto the next subject. Pulling him by his shirt closer than he already was, Buffy drew him down to whisper in his ear. "Half the women in here are staring at you."

Amused, Spike whispered back in her ear. "And the men are doing the same to you, pet."

"Oh." Buffy thought about it for a minute. Her blossoming smile was mischievous. "Maybe they are looking at your helmet hair." She barely got the sentence out through her laughter.

To Spike's surprise, Buffy ran a hand through his hair, loosening up the grip of his gel. To top that gesture off, he caught her hand and kissed the palm. Neither noticed the intimacy implied in such an action. "No, they just know a good looking bloke when they see one."

Blushing from his romantic act, Buffy giggled. Who would have thought she was giggle girl. "I've been dying for years to ask you this. So what's with the Billy Idol look anyway?"

"Dru fancied turning the bloke. A bit too visible, see. So I bleached my hair, wore black, and she was happy. Then I got to fancy it. 'Sides, always was changing my hair color. When that Nazi shrimp was running amuck in Europe, I wore my hair jet black."

Fascinated, Buffy ran her fingertip along his dark, scarred eyebrow. "I was going to ask about your real hair color, but your eyebrow tells all. Ya know, I can see you with black hair." She continued to stroke his brow.

Spike was enchanted by this side of the Slayer. She was glorious when she fought, but this enemy of his was adorable when she giggled. He wanted to pull her flush against him and brush his fingers through her hair. But no way was that happening. Their fling was private, not allowing for public shows of affection. Such demonstrations sounded more like a girlfriend and a boyfriend that have sex out of soft feelings for each other versus a slayer and a vampire that are fucking each other senseless just because they can. That's right. No feelings attached. He had to keep telling himself that, but bloody hell, it was getting more difficult to stick to the plan. Their relationship with each other was evolving, and he had no idea how it would end.

Buffy's voice broke through his thoughts. She was waving her hand gesturing at the people in the room. "...all those ho's that are drooling over you need to remember one thing and that..." Buffy took another drink and looked around, totally oblivious to the fact that she had stopped in mid-sentence.

"Pet, you were saying..." He couldn't let her stop there. No telling what she was going to say, but he had to know.

She looked at him wide eyed. "I was?"

He smiled at her innocent expression. This evening, he discovered that he enjoyed her with her proverbial hair down and just being a beautiful woman with a handsome man. A tipsy woman, but a plain, everyday woman. "You were saying something about ho's staring at me..."

"Oh, yeah. What I was going to say was what those skanks don't have is you in their bed, and I do." Oblivious to her proprietary tone, Buffy bit her lip as she looked Spike face closely. "And they are really missing out."

He watched the hunger build in her eyes and got turned on in return just from her look. Spike didn't miss her tone and had to grudgingly admit that that was how he felt about her in his bed. And that bed was his bed. No other. As a result of these thoughts, he had to squirm around to get his hard-on in a more comfortable position. When she put her hand low on his hip, he knew that there was no comfortable position except in a bed upstairs with her. 'Good idea, you randy bastard.'

"And you are good in the shower, also." She giggled, only enchanting him again.

"Do you want to...I mean do you feel like..." He wasn't some shy, stuttering inexperienced school boy, not by a long shot, but since she was still somewhat innocent, he wasn't sure how to phrase it so as not offend her and piss her off so much that she wouldn't want to. But Buffy answered before he had a chance to finish.

"Yes!" She smiled at him, using her blossoming, feminine wiles. "Upstairs. Your bed or mine?" Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed his hand and started to drag Spike towards the stairs. He had to laugh at her exuberance, and he was right there with her.

******

TBC
 

Chapter 11 - Mixed Feelings

As they mounted the stairs, Buffy started to babble. "...And the way you kiss...It's like you're consuming me. And endurance...you go way longer than..."

Spike slapped his hand over her mouth, keeping her from saying any other man's name. He knew that was a possessive move. He reminded himself for the hundredth time that night that he shouldn't be possessive, but he was. Alright already.

But then he remembered about her injury. When they reached the top of the stairs, he pulled her to a stop. "Listen, pet, how's your noggin feeling?"

"A little owie." Buffy shrugged it off and turned back to the suite's door.

Spike couldn't believe he was going to be so bloody considerate and think of her welfare. "Oh, balls," he said under his breath. "Maybe we shouldn't..."

Buffy began tugging at his hand again, and the giggling was back. "Maybe we should."

Enough said, Spike thought with a smirk. Buffy jerked him into her room, slammed the door shut, and spun on him. Her hands shot up, grasped the duster's collar, and pulled his head down for a crushing kiss. Their mouths were immediately opened in unison. Then she took the lead and explored all that she possibly could --- the cool inside of his cheeks, along his teeth, and his tongue. In her inebriated state, she couldn't get enough of the taste of Spike. His coolness and flavor were a delicious elixir.

Spike was surprised when she suddenly broke the kiss and pulled back, but he soon found out why. With slayer speed, she set about stripping him. The duster hit the floor and was soon joined by his shirt and jeans. The only thing he helped with was his boots. Spike was chuckling by the time she shoved him on the bed and then took off her own clothes. If this was what the Slayer was like when she drank, he would make sure that she had a pint in hand every night. But then, of course, he hadn't had a problem with her willingness so far.

When she finished undressing, Buffy looked at the bed, and her mouth watered. His skin was almost white in the moonlight, and the light and shadows just helped to define his buff muscles. She had seen Angel without his shirt many times, but he had been different. He had been more rounded, not like the sharp lines on Spike, especially the blonde vampire's sexy cheek bones. Why did it have to be her enemy that made her feel so hot between her thighs? Actually, hot all over. Enough thought and more feel. Buffy leaped on the bed and onto his body. They picked up their kiss where they had left off.

As much as he was enjoying himself, he was guessing that with all she had drunk, she wasn't long for consciousness and he wanted to bring her again into the darkness she craved before the liquor hit her. He shifted her so that she was lying on top of him, positioning her so that his shaft rubbed the wet lips of her sex. When he slid across for the first time, she pulled back, moaning loudly. For an inexperience chit, she was wonderfully responsive.

If he wanted to take it fast this time, that was fine with Buffy. Tonight, she couldn't seem to get enough of him fast enough. Bringing her legs up so that she was in a sitting position, she rose up and lowered herself down on his member in one fluid motion. She laughed at Spike's round, startled eyes. She raked her fingernails over his nipples and smiled when he hissed from the pleasure and pain. She dug her fingers into his shoulders and began riding. She started out slow but quickly moved on from there, and she could tell that her climax was coming fast. Must have been the same for Spike because she could feel him shift down into the mattress every time she lifted up and then met her half way hard. Buffy threw her head back and cried out.

When she looked down again, Spike, who was now in game face, slit his finger with one of his fangs. Buffy watched in fascination as his finger began to bleed. Then he was moving his dripping finger towards her mouth, and it felt like the most natural thing to open her mouth and close it around his bleeding digit. At first she didn't do anything, just let the blood slowly flow over her tongue. The taste was metallic and unique, but she wasn't repelled as she expected to be. Instead, it was like the blood was feeding her orgasm, giving her the strength and the ability to ride him harder. Buffy's climax slammed into her after her first couple of sips.

Spike couldn't believe how she had taken his finger into her mouth without guidance or encouragement. He had been planning to try to get her to taste some blood, but this had been on the spur of the moment. And she had done it. Actually, with her very first suck, he was lost in a sea of sexual pleasure. He felt like he was heading for a tumble off a bridge. When he felt her muscles contract, he went flying over the edge.

Buffy collapsed next to him on the bed. "I can't believe that."

He had a pretty good idea what she was talking about, but he would let her explain. She was awfully talkative with a pint under her belt. "What's that, luv?"

"That whole blood thingie." She leaned on her elbow so that she could look down on him. "I hate to say it, really hate to say it, but I enjoyed, ya know, the blood. Dracula's was gross, but yours is different somehow. So wow, I really do have a dark side." Her expression shifted to harder, more serious, and she squinted her eyes. There was no way Giles and the gang would ever understand. "If you tell anybody about that, I'll stake you."

Laughing, Spike pulled her back down so that her head was on his shoulder. "Who am I going to tell, pet? Soldier boy? The whelp? Your watcher? The witches? No, I think I will keep quiet and stay away from any pointy wood." He ran his hand along her arm. "What you just did with me is the darkness in you craving life's blood, craving the power that comes from and with a powerful vampire." Catching himself caressing of her arm, Spike let his arm fall to the mattress. The caress was too close to cuddling, to affection. Bah! He had no tender feelings for his nemesis.

Not sure what to say and needing time to think about this new revelation, Buffy changed the subject. "When your heart was beating earlier, did it make you want to be human again?"

If he had still been doing it, he would have stopped stroking her after that question. "I don't know."

Buffy waited long minutes as she gave Spike time to think, and then instantly regretted her question when he got up to leave. What had she done wrong?

"No, I didn't." Spike couldn't believe this. Not only was he cuddling her after fucking her, but they were having a post sex conversation, the kind couples have when they are sated. Them a couple? NO.

Buffy was talking to his back as he dressed. "Why not?"

He turned back to her and for some strange reason felt compelled to answer truthfully. "If you tell this to any of your chums, I'll tell about the blood."

"Deal." Buffy sat up with a bounce. Secrets could be such fun.

Spike's body was tense. "I hated who I was when I was human."

Well, she hadn't expected that. Her head tilt showed her confusion. "Who were you?"

"Nobody. No, that's not true. I was worse than nobody."

Confused, Buffy shook her head. "How can you be worse than nobody?"

Spike started to not answer but did. "Put it this way, luv. Want to know why I am called Spike?"

Huh? She knew this one. "Because you used railroad spikes on your victims."

"True, but what's not in those dusty books of the watcher's is that I was a would-be, worthless poet and that I drove spikes through the heart of everyone that had called me a bloody awful poet. That's why Peaches always liked to refer to me as William the Bloody so I wouldn't forget the humiliation." With that, he left with a bang of the door. He had no desire to watch her laugh, and he didn't know how he was going to face her the next day.

On her part, Buffy didn't know what to think. First, when he had mentioned the spikes, she had been reminded that she was going to bed with a vicious and highly successful serial killer. She thanked the Powers That Be for the chip that was in his head. And second, a poet? Hadn't he been evil when he was human? Angel was before he was turned by Darla. But Spike was a poet and the first word that came to mind was "sensitive." Then, she remembered that he had a softer side if you bothered to notice. With this deal about the sex, she had expected Spike to be a total ass, constantly ribbing her. But he hadn't. Instead, he had been a most considerate lover and, just now, she had enjoyed cuddling with him before she had scared him off. She knew that she shouldn't have enjoyed the affection but, to be truthful, she had. Of course, she had also seen a sweeter side of Spike on other occasions. She had seen how he was with Drusilla and then later with her when Willow had cast the "my will be done" spell. He had been the perfect fiancé. Now with what she had seen and thought about, she didn't think that his behavior then was all caused by the spell. She just had to admit it. Spike was no longer just Spike the vampire to her, but also a man. Why did she keep thinking of him as a man instead of a vamp? Why was it so hard? Because he was acting like a man, a lover to be exact. Spike had many sides, some of which she enjoyed, and it wasn't just the sex. Ok, maybe she shouldn't admit that. Denial Buffy back for duty.

When Spike got back to his room, he leaned against his shut door. He should run out right now and buy some duct tape to forcibly shut his mouth. He had told Buffy that he had once been a poet, a pansy poet at that. He flopped face-first and spread-eagled onto the bed. Well, at least she hadn't laughed in his face, and he couldn't hear her laughing through the walls. He thought back to when he was human and when he was first turned. Well, he wasn't William the Bloody Awful Poet anymore. No. He was Spike, the Slayer of Slayers. And he knew that he could go into the nearby room and kill his third if he wanted. In fact, he could have done it while they had been having sex a few minutes ago. He could, but he would wait, he told himself. That's it. He'd wait. But what he could do now is hunt. Chip not working equaled the ability to kill again. He had had a temporary lapse of judgment in the alley earlier not killing those three punks, but he was still a master vampire and had killed hundreds. Now he could kill again. He couldn't put the rest of his clothes on and get out of his room fast enough. The night was his again.

*****

Lying in bed, staring out of the window, Buffy was relieved to hear Spike return to his room. Earlier his door banging had woken her up out of her drunken sleep and let her know he was gone. She had been worrying whether or not he was coming back at all. It wasn't like anything was keeping him here in order to help her. He didn't have to keep having sex with her. There was nothing, no binding factor. Why did that make her feel so desolate? But he was back, and her spirit lifted.

Now she could hear him mumbling as he walked thought the suite's main area. "Just didn't want to, that's all...I could have...They were too easy...Bloody hell, I could have done a dozen...just wasn't in the mood...Next time I'll..." Buffy missed the rest when he shut his door behind him. He had sounded drunk. Very drunk. And what could he have done? A dozen? The first thing that came to mind was that he was talking about women. Buffy started to get angry, jealous actually if she wanted to honestly recognize the feeling. But then she thought if he was talking about other women, it sounded like he hadn't been with anyone else. "Could have done a dozen..." Good. So what else could it be? Since he was so drunk, maybe he had been talking about shots or some drinks. Maybe he was thinking about when he had stopped drinking to come back to his room. Who knew? Oh, well. Satisfied he was back, she drifted off to sleep, unaware that she had been thinking more like a girlfriend than an enemy. No wonder she dreamed of white blonde hair and blue eyes that she could get lost in.

*****

TBC
 

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