Part Three

Wesley threw his bags to the floor and raced up the stairs. He paused in front of Buffy's door, but, hearing nothing, continued to Spike's room.

Hovering in front of the door, he heard soft music playing on the radio, and the faint scent of incense invaded his nostrils. Suddenly, an articulated groan of pleasure, obviously Buffy's, pierced the near silence, followed by Spike's low chuckle. Bracing himself-covering his eyes with one hand, and squaring his opposite shoulder, he burst into the room, shouting, "For the love of all things good, stop!"

Both Slayers burst out laughing, and a dull thud was heard as one of them fell off the bed. Wesley uncovered his eyes. Buffy was lying on her stomach. The only article of clothing missing was her tank top. She buried her head in her arms to keep from choking with laughter. Spike was fully clothed in dark blue jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt, lying on the floor, rolling with laughter and clutching his sides.

"What do you think you're doing, Wesley! You just interrupted the best backrub I've ever had in my life!" Her words were muffled by the bedding, and her shoulders shook with unrestrained laughter.

Spike gasped and clutched his abdomen, then stood in one fluid movement. "What was that for? 'For the love of all things good, stop!'" he mimicked in a high-pitched proper English accent. "Is there something you're not telling us?"

"There is a… a prophecy…" he mumbled, his head lowered slightly in intimidation.

"That says what exactly?" Buffy demanded, having put on her tank top by this point. She placed her hands on her hips and looked expectantly at her former Watcher.

Wesley cleared his throat. "You two… if you… ahem… copulate… before the next full moon… would produce a great evil. Perhaps the cause of the next apocalypse. However… if by some chance you do not copulate by the end of the week, the evil will have been diverted and you would live as normal lives as you possibly could, considering your… unusual… circumstances."

"Spike, I think he is implying that I am a slut. What do you think?" Buffy winked at the blond man standing next to her.

Spike winked back. "You know, luv, I think you may be right. Remind me, what happened to the last person who implied that?"

"I honestly couldn't tell you, Spike." Buffy was having trouble concealing her smirk. "Because I don't think anyone has ever wanted their testicles removed through their nose before."

Spike and Wesley both winced visibly at this remark. "So, Wesley, are you implying that I am a slut?"

"Of course not. I would never do such a thing… I must be going now… enjoy your backrub…" He scurried from the room, closing the door tightly behind him. He paused momentarily, shaking his head. "A backrub."

Buffy flopped back onto the bed and stacked her hands, placing her head atop them. Suddenly something black, soft, and warm landed on her face. She reached up and plucked it off as the bed gave slightly, indicating that Spike had joined her. The item on her face was his shirt.

"Luv?" he called from his position further up the bed. "I think you owe me a backrub." She sat up and looked at him. And nearly drooled. He was bare-chested, his platinum hair slightly tousled. His chest rose and fell slightly with each breath. Her eyes trailed down his taut abdomen to his navel, where a thin line of dark brown hair began. It disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans. He had undone the top button. They had been intimate, yes, but she had never had the chance to sit back and look at him before. What she could see is that he was a very beautiful man. Buffy blinked and shook her head, trying to regain some control over her hormones.

"Okay, Spikey… roll over." He situated himself on his stomach, a pillow beneath his head. "With or without lotion?"

"Never had a massage with lotion before. Does it make a difference?" he asked her.

She smiled. For a 128-year-old, he had a lot of learning to do. "You betcha."

"With, please."

Buffy slathered her hands with lotion, warming it up to body temperature before spreading it liberally on his muscular back. She then straddled his hips, which earned her a look of surprise from Spike, and promptly lost herself in the feel of his skin, and the rippling muscles beneath it. She was enjoying massaging his warm skin so much that she murmured softly, "I think that these next two days are going to be the longest of my life." This elicited a tortured groan from Spike, and she promptly apologized. "But it's only two days. And then we do some good in the name of clear skin, and decide what to do with ourselves."

Spike chuckled, murmuring "I think my decision has already been made."

A sharp rapping at the door startled them both, and Buffy hurriedly answered it. Xander stood behind the door, with an excited look on his face. "Guys? The pyrotechnics are about to start. If you get downstairs now, you can get front-row seats to the action." He scurried back down the stairs.

Spike rolled off the bed and grabbed his shirt from the edge. He pulled it over his head as he and Buffy walked out of the room. "Bout time the Order of Aurelius had a family reunion."

When the two Slayers reached the lobby, they noticed two things: first, there was a large pentagram in the middle of the floor. And second, Willow and Wesley had locked themselves into the office, and were chanting in a trance-like state. They did their separate spells-Willow cursing Darla and Drusilla with souls, and Wesley curing Drusilla's dementia. Buffy and Spike leaned against a wall. Angel tossed everyone in the lobby a pair of sunglasses for the final spell. They all slipped them on, and watched the center of the room as a glowing orb the size of a pea… no, a basketball… a small car… formed. It was a mass of swirling colors-bright, blinding, and suddenly two figures fell from it. The glow disappeared as quickly as it had formed. And the two figures stood. Drusilla spoke first.

"Where… where am I? The voices have stopped." She sighed with relief. "I thought they'd never stop." She looked around, and recognized the people in the room.

"Angel? Spike? Spike, what are you doing with the Slayer?" She walked over to him and touched his cheek, then drew her hand back sharply when she realized that it was warm.

"I was… broken, I guess is the best word. The only way to cure me was to make me human. Buffy just added a bonus by donating some of her blood during the healing spell, and so now I'm a male Slayer." He looked into her eyes, seeing the warring emotions behind them.

"Are-are you happy?"

"Yeah." Because I finally have the one thing I've wanted since we first came to Sunnydale.

Darla awoke, having been knocked unconscious due to the fall from the portal. She approached Angel directly. "Angelus. Care to explain why, exactly, I'm in this hellhole again?"

"I knew it. Even with a soul, she's still a complete bitch." Buffy whispered to Spike under her breath.

"I heard that, Slayer." Darla hissed. "Now explain."

"There's a clan of Tybar demons after the entire Order of Aurelius. I figured it would be better to go in together than to get slaughtered one by one. It sounded good at the time." He was incredibly sarcastic by this point.

"Tybars… aren't those the walking pimples?" Darla wrinkled her nose. "And why does Spike have a heartbeat? I can hear it from here."

"Spike isn't Deadboy Jr. anymore, sweet cheeks." Xander replied, smirking.

"He's human-or if you want the details, he's a male version of Buffy." Cordelia snickered.

Willow and Wesley emerged from the office. Willow weakly spoke. "Hey Cordy? I don't suppose you have about a gallon of coffee lying around anywhere, do you?" She and the Watcher collapsed onto the couch, exhausted. Cordelia ran to the kitchen to brew some of her special guaranteed-to-melt-your-spoon coffee.

"Angelus, I want answers, and I want them now," Darla demanded. "I am after all still your sire."

Angel rolled his eyes and sighed. "Darla, sit down." When she refused, he grabbed her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. "I said sit down, Darla."

"Yes, Master Angelus." Darla quickly took a seat in one of the easy chairs fairly close to Angel.

Spike clapped his hands, grinning. "Neat trick. If I were still a vamp, I'd want to learn it."

The dark man shrugged. "One of the perks of being the Master, I guess."

"That means… if you die, then I become the Master? Or would that be Mistress?" Drusilla shook her head. "That's frightening. I don't want it."

"You always have the option of passing it on to your most favored childe, Dru." Angel said calmly. "But since Spike is technically not exactly Master material anymore, and Darla's a bitch, I guess when this is all over you're going to have to find someone else to sire."

Cordelia reappeared with two enormous mugs of steaming coffee. She handed them to the near sleeping witch and Watcher, who took them thankfully, drinking it down at such a speed that everyone in the room would've thought their mouths would start emitting large plumes of steam.

Buffy looked at her watch, saw that it was close to one in the morning, and asked Angel, "Should we show them to their rooms? It's getting pretty late, and we humans have an early day tomorrow. Lots of research."

Spike leaned down close to her and purred, "and necking, luv."

"Darla, Drusilla, you must be tired. Two rooms were decorated for you today, exactly how Angel and Spike remembered you'd like them." Buffy motioned politely to the two newly-souled vampiresses, and the four of them stepped into the elevator, taking it up to the third floor.

They showed Drusilla to her new room first. It was decorated in white and lavender, with a canopy bed that had a lush down comforter spread across it. Vases of fresh flowers were placed about the room. She opened the closet to find a few dresses in pastel shades. Her eyes were wide, and they shone with gratitude. She noticed the absence of mirrors and windows, and nodded approvingly. "Thank you. I haven't had somewhere this nice to stay in a very long time."

Buffy pointed to a naturally varnished door on one wall of the room. "The bathroom's in there. There should be everything you need. I ordered the makeup and toiletries this morning. They arrived a few hours ago. If you have any problems with your room, I'll be in the lobby at around 9:30 tomorrow morning. Don't worry, though, the entire hotel is sun proofed during the day."

Darla rolled her eyes. "Where's my room?" she asked impatiently.

"Have a nice rest, Drusilla," Buffy said kindly, somewhat shocked to realize she said it sincerely. The three blondes left the room, allowing Drusilla to continue to admire her temporary home.

Spike and Buffy led Darla down the hall to her own suite. When they opened the door, it revealed a lush bedroom decorated in sea tones. Instead of flowers, framed fine-art prints were hung on the walls. As with Drusilla's bedroom, there were no mirrors, however, thick, deep blue curtains covered French doors that opened onto a small balcony. The closet held a few brightly-colored skirts and monotone tank-tops, as well as a small leather jacket. There were also several pairs of shoes that would coordinate with whatever outfits she planned on wearing. A pair of leather pants, one of those Buffy had purchased at the mall for herself, lay folded on the shelf, tags still hanging from it. The bathroom was decorated to match the rest of the suite, with a sponge design of clamshells stenciled as a border across the top of the wall.

"The same things I said to Drusilla go for you as well. Sleep well, Darla."

Buffy breezed out of the room, with Spike trailing after her. They stepped back into the elevator, and exited when it reached the second floor.

Both Slayers hovered outside Buffy's bedroom door. She reached up and smoothed a stray lock of platinum hair out of his face. The air was tense with sexual energy. Spike leaned in and kissed her softly. It felt as though the tiniest bird had brushed its wing against her lips. She opened the door from behind her and stepped backwards into her room. Shutting the door slowly, she looked at her ex-mortal enemy with a look of complete tenderness in her eyes. When the door clicked shut, she sighed. She showered quickly, then dried her hair and put on a tank top and loose cotton pants. Later, she wouldn't have been able to say what had compelled her to leave her room and walk quickly down the hall to Spike's.

She knocked softly and waited for a few moments for him to answer. When he did, she had much difficulty keeping her jaw from dropping comically. He stood before her wearing nothing but a pair of black silk boxer shorts, his hair damp and honey-gold from the shower. She did, however, manage to keep her train of thought from completely derailing. "Hi."

He smiled. "Hi."

"I just realized, there's all this lust between us, but I don't know anything about you." She bit her lip. "And I'd like to. Know who you are, that is."

"Come in." He swept his arms wide and stepped aside, allowing her entrance. He then climbed into his bed and motioned for her to join him. Her eyes widened, but he quickly reassured her. "Trust me, Buffy. Whatever evil it is that we'd unleash if we did make love, I'm not partial to meeting it. You're completely safe from me."

But am I safe from myself? she wondered. She climbed under the covers and lay stiffly on her back, at least a foot separating them. Spike soon remedied that. He pulled her to him, tucking her in the crook of his shoulder so that her head rested on his chest. She soon warmed to this position, allowing her free hand to fall across his abdomen. For the next few hours they lay like that, Spike telling the story of his life, Buffy listening avidly. After about three and a half hours, Spike noticed that Buffy was breathing evenly, and snoring softly. It was difficult for him to fall asleep, but exhaustion finally claimed him.

When Willow went upstairs at 10 am, she knocked on Buffy's door, and when nobody answered, she let herself in. The bed had not been slept in. So she crept down the hall to Spike's room, and silently opened his door. Both Slayers were fast asleep. The covers had fallen to just below their waists, revealing the waistband of Spike's boxers. Buffy was curled into her former enemy, his bare chest her pillow, and he held her to him protectively with one strong arm, the fabric of her tank top bunching where his hand rested. The scene was so beautifully innocent that she dared not wake them, so she exited the room as noiselessly as she had entered.

The click of the latch resonated through the room and Buffy stirred. She noticed two things. She was snuggled up to a warm, well-built, male body, and she was fully clothed. Opening her eyes, she lifted her head to see who said warm, well-built body belonged to. And looked into the sleeping face of Spike. She was preparing to be shocked, when she remembered the previous night's occurrences. He had told her the story of his life, and she had simply drifted off.

She stroked his cheek softly, and he mumbled something, his eyelids fluttering. Sighing, she decided to use other methods to awaken him. She moved gracefully up his body, careful not to move him, and kissed him gently. Even in half-sleep, he responded.

After a few minutes of long, tender kisses, she drew back, kissing him on the cheek. "Good morning."

He was fully awake now, and his blue eyes looked deeply into hers. "'Morning, luv. That was the best alarm clock ever invented." His eyes got a wicked twinkle in them as he continued. "Well, almost the best alarm clock ever invented. I promise you, after this bloody waiting period, I'll show you the best alarm clock."

"Only if you promise to wake me with it every morning." She grinned, kissing his lips softly again. She then glanced at the clock and shot out of the bed. "Oh, shoot!"

Spike rolled off the bed and stood next to her, asking softly, "What is it, luv?"

She sighed. "I told everyone that I'd be downstairs for breakfast an hour ago. I have to go." She quickly exited the room, and headed for her own bedroom, where she pulled on a pair of black, tight-fitting pants and a black tank-top, then pulled on her boots and tied back her hair. She applied a small amount of makeup, put on some deodorant, and raced down the stairs. She ran into Angel, who apparently had just been on his way to rouse her, because he followed her back downstairs.

"Good morning, everybody," she greeted. "How was breakfast? Sorry I'm late, I guess I was sleepier than I thought." She poured herself a glass of juice before sitting at one end of the long table.

Willow smiled slightly. "We were just talking about how to wipe these demons out. Xander wants to know if he can use a real gun."

"Can you fire a real gun, Xand?" Buffy teased. "What kind of gun are we talking here? No rocket launchers, please."

Xander pouted jokingly. "Aww, but Buff, I wanted to bring my bazooka collection!"

"As long as you know what you're doing…" Buffy consented.

Xander stood. "If you'll excuse me, I need to special-order some rounds." He walked out of the room and into the office, where he closed the door, then picked up the phone and dialed the number of the privately-owned artillery factory that he'd made connections with.

Meanwhile, Spike decided finally to dress. He chose a pair of fairly snug, dark-colored jeans and a medium blue tee-shirt with a darker blue Hawaiian floral pattern silk-screened across the chest in a thin line. Pausing in the bathroom at the mirror and slathering his hair with gel, he drew his comb up as if to slick it back, as usual, but then shook his head and ran his fingers through it a few times, giving it a tousled, slightly windblown look. This done, he shaved the stubble from his face with a dry razor, pulled on his Doc Martens, and left the room.

When he got downstairs, everyone was busy doing their own thing. He walked up to Wesley. "Morning, Wesley. What do I need to do?"

The Watcher looked at him scrutinously. "Do you have swim trunks and sandals?"

"What?"

"Here. Take this money…" he pressed a wad of cash into Spike's hand, "… and get yourself a pair of swim trunks and sandals. Buffy suggested that anyone who doesn't have an aversion to sunlight go to the beach today. Apparently it is a destresser. Oh, and get yourself some strong sunscreen, as well. We don't want you burning."

He pushed Spike out the door, handing him a pair of silver-framed Oakley sunglasses as he did so. "Wear these. I don't think your eyes will be ready for sunlight."

Spike sighed, bewildered, but walked out into the day. He walked for a short time before he heard the thudding of footsteps coming up behind him. Small, strong arms encircled his waist from behind. He lifted one arm to see who had tackled him, and Buffy's head poked out from beneath it. "Hiya, Spike. I decided to come with and make sure you didn't buy the cheapest pair of trunks in the store. You're alive, and you live in California, so you'll be using them a lot."

"Hmm." He pulled her up so that they were walking side-by-side, then draped an arm about her shoulders. "Don't let me buy gaudy ones, though, luv."

They walked to the nearest surf store, where Buffy led Spike to the board shorts section. He held up a fluorescent orange pair. Buffy wrinkled her nose in disgust.

This pair was followed by black, yellow, red, magenta, and neon green. All of which she declined. She went to the rack and pulled off a pair of mottled dark blue and black shorts, and nodded approvingly.

"What, you mean you didn't like the pink ones?" he asked in mock surprise. He took the shorts from her and she punched him softly in the arm… at least, softly enough so he didn't feel any bones snap or go flying across the room. He winced, and allowed her to lead him over to the sandals. Five minutes later, they had paid, and walked back to the Hyperion. Spike had bought his own pair of Oakleys at the shop, and handed Wesley his back when they entered the building.

Everyone who was going to the beach had begun to pack their things. Willow and Cordelia were busy making a picnic lunch.

Buffy went upstairs to put her swimsuit on beneath her clothes. Drusilla was waiting outside her door for her. She was wearing one of her new dresses, and had left her hair flowing in ringlets. It made her seem a complete innocent. "Slayer…" she began.

"Oh, for the time being, call me Buffy. When the soul wears off, you can go back to referring to me by my job." Buffy smiled. "What can I do for you?"

Drusilla spoke softly. "We are going to be fighting demons, correct?"

The blond woman nodded.

"Oh, dear, I don't mean to sound ungrateful, all these clothes that you've bought for me are so lovely, it's just I…" she trailed off, slightly flustered.

"You don't think they're very good fighting clothes?" Buffy opened her door. "I might have something that would fit you." She walked into the room, Drusilla following her. Buffy opened her closet doors and rummaged through her things. "Nope, I don't think leather would be right for you, it's an acquired taste. Hmm. These are too short. Ah. Here we go." She pulled a pair of nearly black jeans out of the closet. "Try these on. I'll see if I can find you a shirt." She pulled shirt after shirt out of her closet before she settled on a dark red, long-sleeved v-neck. "These colors are best for fighting. They hide stains." She quickly grabbed a pair of black leather ankle boots out of the back of the closet and handed them to the vampiress.

After pulling on the boots, Drusilla spun around, asking "How do I look?"

"To die for. Oops, sorry about the pun there. You can keep the outfit. That way, the next time you want to kill me, you'll remember that I gave you these kick-ass ass-kicking clothes." Buffy gathered Dru's other clothing up and handed it to her, saying "Everyone that can is going to the beach today. We'll be back before nightfall."

"Have fun, Sl-Buffy. And thank you again." The brunette vampiress exited the room breezily.

The blond quickly changed into her black one-piece. A bikini, she decided, would be too much for Spike to handle considering their situation. Not to mention, she couldn't very well fight a sea monster in a two-piece, if such problems arose. She pulled a pair of cutoff shorts and a thin tanktop over the swimsuit, then slipped on her flip flops. She had tossed her sunscreen, sunglasses, towel, and other items into a cloth bag earlier, and she now picked it up and walked out of the room. She closed the door, then walked to the stairs, where she slid down the banister, then hopped off before she hit the pillar.

Xander cocked an eyebrow. "Good mood?" He had changed into a blue and red Hawaiian print shirt and khaki shorts. Cordelia and Willow stood beside him, the brunette having decided to go for the 'nearly invisible' look and the redhead covered in a thin wraparound skirt and black tank top.

She nodded vigorously. "I haven't been to the beach in such a long time…" Glancing around the room, she spotted Angel. Setting her bag down, she walked over to him and said like a small child, "Angel, I like Drusilla with a soul. Can we keep her?"

The tall man chuckled. "I think you may want to talk to her about that."

Spike walked down the stairs, clad in swim trunks and black flip-flops, with a white beater barely covering his chest. He pulled out his wallet and looked at Angel. Angel slipped him something colorful and plastic. He stuck it quickly in the front of the weathered wallet, then put the wallet itself back into his pocket. Buffy cocked an eyebrow but said nothing.

Wesley entered the room, zinc oxide already on his nose. He wore a muscle shirt that fit him loosely and a pair of green athletic shorts, along with a pair of Birkenstocks. Noticing the funny looks he was receiving, he asked plainly, "What?" and was answered by a chorus of laughter.

Finally, five minutes later, Gunn walked in. He was wearing his usual dark hooded sweatshirt, oversize jeans, and work boots. He nodded at everyone, ignoring the looks of confusion, and went straight into the coatroom. When he exited less than a minute later, he had changed into a pair of rust-orange swim trunks, and a short-sleeved white button-down shirt, the buttons however neglected. He received a round of applause for the fastest clothing change ever recorded, and as he took his bows, he slipped his Adidas sandals, which he had been holding in his hands, onto his feet.

Cordelia spoke. "Now I know why you always wear such baggy clothes. You could wear anything under there."

Angel tossed the keys to his convertible at Spike, who caught them and asked, "Okay, kiddies, everyone ready to go to the beach?"

Part Four

The trip to the coast was relatively short, aided by Spike's habit of criminal speeding. Once they arrived and found a parking spot fairly close to the sand, the seven beachgoers climbed out of the convertible, and Spike activated the alarm. They loped down the beach until they found a relatively empty spot, where they set up their blankets and umbrellas. All six younger people immediately pulled off their excess clothing and set to work on sunscreen. Xander immediately started to massage lotion into Cordelia's back, and Spike was working on Buffy, which left Willow with Gunn. She shyly walked up to him in her emerald tankini and asked him to apply it to her back. He agreed, and had soon not only applied enough sunscreen to her back, but had loosened the tense muscles in her shoulders as well.

After the women were thoroughly protected, they insisted on applying sunscreen to the men as well. Buffy found the strongest sunscreen available and applied it to Spike's back and neck, then his face.

"Spike! Turn your skin off! You're blinding me!" Xander said in mock pain, receiving a handful of sand in the face from Buffy as he said it.

They all sat up and applied sunscreen to the reachable places on their bodies. The women decided to lie back and work on their tans, so the men went off, whispering conspiratorially. About five minutes into their sunbathing, the men returned. They tried to be nonchalant, though they were snickering slightly. Spike lay down beside Buffy and traced the line of her collarbone for a few seconds, then pulled back the neckline of her bathing suit and thrust a fistful of ice down the front. She screeched, along with Willow and Cordelia, who had obviously received equal treatment from Xander and Gunn. The men were off like a flash, each in a different direction, and the women soon gave chase.

Each woman had a slight advantage. With Buffy it was her more diminutive stature and lack of sandals that allowed her to catch up to Spike and tackle him. Cordelia merely screeched, "Alexander LaVelle Harris! Get back here!" and Xander immediately slowed down. And Willow used her magick to force Gunn to run in place, rather than going somewhere.

After she had pounced on him, Buffy proceeded to tickle Spike until he begged forgiveness. He was rolling around helplessly on the sand, clutching his sides and groaning, so she finally forgave him and allowed him to stand. They walked hand in hand back to their spot on the sand, to a spattering of applause. One little boy approached them and asked if they were in the Olympics. They said no, then walked on with confused looks on their faces until Buffy realized that they had used full Slayer speed in broad daylight.

She turned to her partner in crime and said, "Um, Spike? We just broke the first Slaying commandment."

"What's that, luv?"

"Don't use your Slayer speed or strength in public. That's why the kid wanted to know if we were Olympic athletes."

Spike shrugged. "Oops."

"Nice Job, PGFKADB, Junior," Xander said sarcastically. When everyone raised their eyebrows in complete confusion, he elaborated. "Pale Guy Formerly Known as Dead Boy, Junior?" When he got no response, he threw up his hands. "Oh, come on, people!" Disgruntled, he opened the picnic cooler that had been sent with them and pulled out a Coke. "Want anything, Cordy?" he asked, holding up an orange Fanta, which he remembered she had liked when they were dating.

Gunn rifled through the cooler and came up with a balogna and cheese sandwich, the crusts expertly cut off. He turned to offer Willow half, but saw that she had conjured up her own meal. Shrugging, he devoured the sandwich quickly.

Buffy found a plastic box of strawberries in the bottom of the cooler. She pulled these and two bottles of water out, handing one of the bottles to Spike. She set the box of strawberries on the blanket between them and opened it. Reaching in, she plucked one of the red fruits from its confines and lifted it to her mouth. She closed her eyes as she bit into the berry with white teeth, licking a drop of its juice from her lower lip as she drew the fruit away from her mouth. Upon opening her eyes once more, she noticed that Spike was staring at her intently. Self consciously, she looked away, but he caught her chin and picked another of the berries from the box, bringing it slowly to her lips. His eyes on hers, he fed her the berry. She then picked up another strawberry and fed it to him. They continued until the entire box of strawberries was empty, their eyes never leaving one anothers.

A startled scream brought them out of their reverie. The two slayers looked up and out onto the water to see a large, blue-green tentacle wrap itself around a surfboard and snap it in two. Spike and Buffy immediately leapt to their feet, as did Willow. She began murmuring a spell under her breath as the two blondes ran for the water. They dove in and swam furiously toward the area where the creature had surfaced. Willow had meanwhile conjured them scuba tanks and flippers to aid in their swim. Both Slayers were, however, caught off guard when a man in red swim trunks was sent flying up in the air as if a gueyser had erupted directly below him. They dived below the surface of the water, back to back, and began scanning the depths for any off-seeming activities. Suddenly, a tentacle wrapped around Buffy's leg and began to drag her deep below the water. Her eyes screamed to Spike. He swam after her and soon reached the creature. He reached the ocean floor before it did, and found a sunken fishing boat resting in the sand nearby. Rushing over, he broke off a large, jagged piece of wood and swam in the direction that the monster had taken Buffy.

Willow, on shore, was chanting furiously under her breath. Xander, Cordelia, and Gunn stood with fingers crossed.

Underwater, Spike attacked the creature with all his strenghth. He ripped at tentacles, and beat at its leathery skin, but to no avail. Suddenly he noticed a shadow forming above him in the water. Looking up, he saw at least fifteen sharks circling. The thrashing had attracted them from miles away.

Willow noticed the dark, triangular fins and murmured again under her breath.

The sharks began to morph. Soon they were not sharks looking for an easy meal, but dolphins. The dolphins began to swim swiftly down toward the two slayers and the sea monster. Dolphins attacked the creature on all sides, butting it with their noses and slapping it with their strong tails. The creature became confused--it no longer knew what to attack. As it looked away, Spike drove the jagged chunk of wood he had been holding deep into one of its eyes. A huge cloud of black blood erupted from its damaged eye and Spike immediately ripped its tentacle from Buffy, dragging her up toward the surface of the water with him. When it became apparent that she was unconscious, he tried to swim that much harder, but he was weary from the battle with the creature. He suddenly felt a gentle nudge from below him. His eyes widened in fear, thinking that the creature had returned, but when he looked down he saw that the dolphins where below and around him and his partner. They must have understood his need to reach the surface, because one of them swam right in front of him, their dorsal fin at an angle where he could reach it, and began pulling him to the surface. Another dolphin swam below Buffy, so that she rested on its back.

The people on the surface were scanning the water anxiously, when they saw two blond heads crest the water. Willow chanted again softly, and the flippers and scuba gear disappeared from their backs.

Spike allowed the dolphins to tow him and Buffy into shore, depositing them in an area where the water was shallow enough for him to touch the bottom. He lifted his blond goddess into his arms and carried her to shore, where he lay her down on the blanket and examined her wounds. She was breathing, good, but she had an enormous gash in her right calf. It was bleeding profusely. Willow focused her energy on her friends injury and lay a gentle hand on the wound. Within seconds it had closed, completely healed. Buffy moaned from the pain of the healing wound and her eyelids fluttered.

"Buffy, luv, come back to us..." Spike pleaded gently. He took one of her small hands in his large one and rubbed it, calling her name softly.

She coughed once and opened her eyes. "Spike?" Her eyes were confused. "I... what happened?"

"Sea monster got you, luv. We kicked it's ass good though." His eyes were shining with unshed tears.

"What's wrong, Spike?" Buffy was genuinely concerned.

"You almost died, luv. I…" he took in a sharp, shuddering breath. "You almost died and I almost never got the chance to tell you…" suddenly his feet were very, very interesting as he trailed off.

"You never got to tell me what, Spike?" Buffy gently turned his head toward her and looked into his eyes.

"Oh, bloody hell. I never got to tell you I love you, Buffy." His lips dropped a kiss onto hers, before he turned away, embarrassed that he had let that slip.

His love pounced on him, her lips settling atop his for a much more passionate kiss. They rolled about in the sand, their mouths never separating. A sharp "a-hem" caused them to draw apart slowly. Their breathing was ragged, their foreheads touching. Before they turned toward their interrupter, Buffy pulled Spike's head down and whispered in his ear, softly enough so only he could hear, "I love you too, Spike."

The two slayers looked up at Cordelia, with blurred eyes. The seer was standing, hands on hips. "Guys, next time warn us before the giant PDA, 'kay?" She motioned to their things. "We need to be heading back. The sun'll be down soon and we have some demons to get killing."

Buffy pouted, then began packing her things together. Soon the large group was headed back to the Hyperion, to pick up chemicals and enchanted swords, as well as souled creatures of the night. Upon arrival, Buffy ran up the front steps of the mansion and flung open the doors. She heard a melodramatic piano tune coming from upstairs, and immediately thought of her former love.

She and Spike walked up the stairs and found Angel sitting at an upright piano, his fingers dancing over the keys as Drusilla and Darla listened on. Buffy shuffled her feet a bit to let them know she was there.

"Didn't know you played piano, Angel," she said softly, looping her arm around the waist of the newly tan man standing next to her. "It sounded beautiful."

Spike smirked before saying, "Hate to break up this lovely party, Peaches, but the sun's down and we have some demon ass to kick." He looked down at Buffy before continuing, "Not that we haven't already kicked some today…"

Angel immediately looked alarmed, his vamp face threatening to come forward. He hated the thought of his Buffy and his boy in danger, even though technically neither of them were his anymore. "What happened?"

"Yes, Buffy, do tell. We're all thrilled to hear about yet another of your awesome adventures," Darla said with a yawn.

Drusilla made a face. "Darla, I've been wanting to say this for a very long time now. Do shut up. Please continue, Sl-- I mean, Buffy."

"Thank you, Dru. We… well, mostly Spike… killed a sea monster today at the beach." She sighed. "I swear, even on my time off I have to work. But that's over and done with. Are you guys ready to do some justice in the name of clear skin?"

Dru immediately nodded, Angel grunted his consent, and Darla… seemed hesitant. "Let me put it to you this way, pumpkin," the blonde Slayer said to the vampiress. "You can either kick some ass yourself or you can get dusted. Take your pick. I don't really care at this point. The only thing that matters is that Dawn gets out of this alive."

The slayers turned and walked out of the room.

Part Five

"Well, well, well. It seems that tonight, little girl, will be your last. I have seen no sign of the Order of Aurelius, and your dear sister isn't here to protect you this time. What a tasty morsel you'll be." The hideous black demon ran one boil-covered finger down the Key's face.

Ashrok's head jerked up at the sound of a minion's head hitting the floor next to him. "Her sister may not be here, but I am," came a decidedly feminine voice from the shadows.

The lord of the Tybar demons was confused for a second, before asking, "And who, pray tell are you?"

The figure in black leather stepped out of the shadows, running one hand through her brown curls. Her shiny, rouged lips curled up in a smile, flashing white teeth, before she replied. "I'm Faith, the vampire slayer."

"Two slayers? How is that possible?" The black demon was thoroughly confused at this point, when another, male voice, with a cocky, North London accent, answered his question.

"Actually, mate, there are three." Two blondes stepped out of the shadows behind the brunette. "Nice to see you again, Faith. Although the last time I saw you, I believe you were in a different body."

"You remembered? How sweet. I got let out a few weeks ago for good behavior," she said, smashing her fist into a Tybar that had crept up upon her from behind. "B, behind you!"

Buffy looked behind her suddenly, then slashed a Tybar in half. The screams of the dying demons attracted more from their clan, until the three slayers were outnumbered, fifty to one. A feral roar from up above drew Ashrok's attention, as Angel swung down into the fray, enchanted sword in hand. Willow stood in the doorway, chanting softly.

When she was sure that the white hats were thoroughly protected against the sulfuric acid, she gave Gunn, Wesley, Drusilla, and Darla the signal to release the gallons of acid that she had "borrowed" from the UC Sunnydale chemistry department.

Things were looking up for the side of good. Ashrok gave a frustrated roar and said to himself, "If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself." He drew a crossbow from behind a machine and fired into the rafters. "Darla! Watch out!" Buffy shouted to the blond vampiress up above her, but it was too late. The bolt lodged itself into her heart, and her ashes filtered down upon the group.

Angel stood, his mouth agape, eyes wide with shock. Faith ran to him and punched him, bringing him, at least temporarily, back to his senses. "Fight now, Soulboy, brood later." She ran her enchanted sword through the gut of a Tybar that had approached Angel with intent to attack.

Cordelia ran into the room, clasping Willow's shoulder. "Do something! The Tybar is going to kill Angel!"

"Not if I have anything to do with it." The calm voice came from above. There stood Xander, dressed in military fatigues, holding a rocket launcher.

Buffy was surrounded. All the remaining Tybars apparently wanted a piece of her. Ashrok's voice boomed through the factory. "Kill all you want, but the blond slayer is mine!"

"That's a lovely sentiment, mate, but you're going to have to go through me." The cold, British voice came from directly behind him.

"And me." An equally cold voice, which he knew as that of Angelus, came from up above.

"Ah, Angelus. Just the bastard I've been meaning to kill." He shot an arrow up into the rafters, but missed the dark-haired vampire as he leapt to the floor.

"Don't forget… me." Ashrok looked up to see a dark-haired man with an apparent Rambo complex standing on an overhang, a rocket launcher held comfortably in his hands. "Angel, Spike, get Dawn out of the way! Now!"

The dark vampire raced over to the Key and tore off her restraints, hoisted her over his shoulder, and ran. Spike dove away from the area where the black demon was standing just as Xander fired. The blond, former vampire rolled to his feet and ran to his love's side, where she was battling seven Tybars… and tiring quickly.

He entered the fray with a roar that was lost over the sound of Ashrok exploding. "Nobody," he said, slicing one of the demons' heads off, "messes," he stabbed another through the ribs, then ripped his sword viciously out of its body, "with my," eviscerating one of the few remaining Tybars, "GIRLFRIEND!" He screamed this last word as he jammed his sword into the stomach of a Tybar.

"Bleach boy! Behind you!" Faith's voice carried over the din. Spike turned and found himself face to face with by far the largest Tybar left among the group. It wielded a nasty-looking axe, which it swung dangerously close to the former vampire's head. Spike deflected the blow with his sword, then came back with a counterattack. Drusilla shrieked as she fell from the rafters, an arrow embedded in her stomach. Buffy caught her and, as gently as she could, tossed her into a corner. Angel, having locked Dawn in his car, re-entered the room.

Spike howled in pain, falling to the ground and clutching his arm as the Tybar's axe slashed his bicep. He struggled to hold onto his sword, his hand shaking violently. The Tybar brought its axe down and narrowly missed Spike, who rolled out of its way. Angel heard his boy's cry of agony and vamped, pouncing on the large demon. He pummeled it until it was nearly unrecognizable. It took the strength of Faith and Buffy combined to pull its vicious attacker from the demon. Faith ran her sword through its heart, putting it out of its misery. Buffy scanned the area to check for any remaining demons. Satisfied that there were none left alive, or well enough to fight, she rushed over to Spike's side.

Spike was moaning in pain as he clutched his arm. The tiny blond girl crouched by his side and gently pulled his hand away from his arm, then gasped at the cut. It was deep, nearly to the bone. "Angel! Hurry, we need to get Spike to the hospital. He's losing blood… fast."

Faith stood. "I'll stay here and clean up. Do we want this vamp over here alive?" The brunette slayer motioned to Drusilla.

Angel looked over at Willow, asking the wiccan, "How much time do we have before Dru's soul runs out?"

Willow looked up. "It won't. All I did with the spell was to change the names around. So, barring any moments of true happiness…" she shrugged again.

"Fine. Faith, get her back to my hotel. I'm taking Buffy and Spike to the hospital. Have everyone who can, get back to the Hyperion ASAP."

"What do you want me to do about the bodies?" She surveyed the carnage.

Xander spoke up. "I say we torch the place."

Angel scooped Spike up in his arms and ran out of the factory, Buffy close behind. He lay his former grandchilde in the backseat of his convertible, and motioned for his love to sit by him, handing her his shredded, button-down shirt to press to the wound in Spike's biceps.

They made it to the hospital in record time. The entire ride, Buffy had held the shirt tightly to Spike's arm, stroking his hair and whispering softly to him. The trio entered the hospital quickly, Buffy shouting, "We need help!" while Angel carried his unconscious former childe.

A crowd of EMTs quickly surrounded them, and Spike was rolled into a trauma room on a stretcher. Buffy stood in the waiting room with tear-filled eyes, staring at the doors he had gone through. "He's going to be alright, you know that." Angel's voice came from her left. She turned to him and buried her face in his dark blue wife beater and allowed herself to be held. After a few minutes, Angel somewhat reluctantly extracted himself from her embrace. "I… I have to go. Sun's almost up. I need to get back to check on Dru."

"I understand." She smiled tearfully, her red-rimmed eyes looking up at him.

"Spike's real name is William Bradford. That's what he'll be listed under here. It's what's on his driver's license." Angel murmured it to her and turned, leaving her standing alone in the hospital.

She walked to the receptionist's desk, and asked the spectacled woman sitting at the computer, "Could you tell me where William Bradford's room is?"

"I'm sorry, but it says family only."

Buffy's eyes widened momentarily before she thought of something. "He's my fiance."

The woman looked up at her scrutinously for a moment before replying. "Room 314."

"Thank you." Buffy smiled genuinely at her before walking swiftly toward the elevators. As she arrived in his ward, she glanced at each room number, before walking directly into a nurse.

"Can I help you?" The nurse smiled slightly at her.

A bit flustered, Buffy replied, "I'm looking for room 314. William Bradford."

"Oh, you must be Buffy. William has been asking for you. Follow me." The nurse motioned for her to walk with her as she turned in the opposite direction. She stopped at one of the rooms, then knocked softly before entering. "William? There's someone here to see you."

Spike lay in the hospital bed, a large bandage covering his upper arm. An I.V. needle was imbedded in the skin of his hand and he scratched at it absently. Looking up, he saw his golden goddess staring at him with genuine concern on her face. He grinned broadly as she approached.

"You're okay?" she asked tentatively.

"The docs say two weeks and I can get the stitches out." He winced as he moved his arm slightly.

"Three days." She moved closer to his bed and sat down in a chair next to him. Reaching over and rubbing his uninjured arm, she smiled. "Slayer healing, remember? You'll be up and fighting baddies within a week."

A look of realization, then shock crossed Spike's face as he realized that what had happened tonight was a regular occurrence in his Slayer's life. He reached up with his uninjured arm and stroked his thumb across her jaw gently. "This is what you do every day," he mumbled. "This is what you do every day, and it hasn't broken you yet."

"You get used to it. Fighting the good fight, night after night… it takes something out of you. But you get used to it. It's hard to remember life before being the Slayer." She smiled forcedly. "Before I was called… I was Cordelia, pre-graduation. Only ten times worse. I had a klepto problem… just little things, lipstick, rhinestone earrings… but that all went out the window when I met Merrick."

Spike frowned, raising an eyebrow. He opened his mouth to speak, but Buffy continued. "Giles wasn't my first Watcher. Merrick… he was killed. I burned down the gym at Hemery, moved to Sunnydale, and the rest is history."

"You've gone through so much. And I was the cause of--" she shushed him with her fingers.

"Spike, if you had never shown up in Sunnydale, a major part of my life would be missing. Sure, I hated you at first, but I think even in the alley behind the Bronze on that first night when I met you, I was attracted to you." She grinned.

"Same here, pet."

"Meow."

He chuckled, raising his scarred eyebrow. "If you don't want me to call you pet, Slayer, then what should I call you?"

"Well, don't call me Slayer, for starters. It's my job, not who I am, and now it's your job and it's Faith's job again too… things could get very, very confusing." She leaned over and dropped a soft kiss on his lips. "How about Buffy?"

"Hmm… nah. I think I'll stick with luv. Because it's true." He grinned. "Now do you think you can get the nurses to spring me?"

An hour later Buffy and Spike were in a taxi on their way back to the Hyperion. They couldn't keep their eyes off each other. Each marveled at being able to admire the other in full sunlight. It was going to take a lot of getting used to. Already Spike's sallow, pale complexion was darkening to a slight gold hue. The stark white bandage stood out against his light tan.

The cab stopped in front of the hotel and Buffy paid the fare, then they got out and linked their fingers together. They walked in, smiling broadly at the cacophony that greeted them. All the beings in the building, alive and undead, were chattering amicably. Angel stood, speaking to a green demon wearing a red suit. He turned and his red eyes stood out.

"Oh, honey, look at you. You must be Buffy. I've heard so much about you," he said as he rushed over to her. "Angel here came to me the other night with a little problem. Sounds to me like it turned out just like I saw."

The blond slayer was a little lost. "Uhh…"

"Oh, I'm sorry honey. Must've slipped my mind to introduce myself. I'm Lorne." He stuck a very green hand out to her in greeting. She shook it timidly. "I run Caritas. It's a demon karaoke bar a few blocks from here." Lorne turned to Spike. "And William the not-so-Bloody-anymore. So nice to see you again. When are you going to come sing for us again honey? You had the crowd on their feet last time."

"Yeah, probably running for their exit," Angel mumbled under his breath.

Lorne turned to Angel. "Well, now, that's not very nice. Apologize. Or I'll pull out the recordings."

"Sorry," he murmured. Buffy could've sworn she saw a tinge of red come to the vampire's cheeks.

The Host turned back to Buffy. "And when are we going to hear you, little lady?"

It was Buffy's turn to blush. "Umm… I don't sing…"

Angel looked up. "Yes you do. I could hear you singing the first night you came here."

"…in public," she finished.

Lorne humphed. "Maybe some other time, huh sweetie? Listen, it's been fun, but I have to be getting back. Gotta open up for the day."

With a flourish, the green-tinted demon left the building.

Meanwhile Cordelia was speaking with Faith and Drusilla in the office. "…so it would be great if the two of you would stick around. Now that you're better, Faith, it would help us out a lot to have a slayer on our team, and Dru, since you're all soul-having…"

Spike took Buffy's hand again and led her up the stairs. "I need you to check my arm." They entered his room and shut the door most of the way. He pulled his tee-shirt up over his head, hissing softly as it grazed the bandages on his biceps. Buffy gingerly pulled the tape away from his arm before lifting the thick gauze away from his skin. She looked beneath it and was shocked to discover that there was little more than a tiny scratch left on his skin. The wound had healed over nearly completely.

"Umm… Spike? I don't think you need a bandage for this anymore. It's a little bruised, but that's about it. You must've kept your vamp healing and gotten my slayer healing powers at the same time. Lucky." He glanced down and looked rather surprised. Then grinned evilly and yanked her into his lap. His mouth was on hers before she could react to his sudden movement, his tongue stroking hers into a seductive dance.

Buffy pulled away reluctantly. "Spike… not to kill the mood, but I REALLY need to take a shower. Being covered in demon guts doesn't really help me feel sexy."

"Luv, you could be covered in dog shit and you'd still be the sexiest woman in the world to me." He pushed her gently to her feet before standing with her and leading her into his bathroom. There, he peppered kisses up and down her neck as he rolled her shirt up her stomach, his lips leaving her flesh only to return after he tossed her shirt into a corner of the room to be retrieved later.

Her bra soon followed, and ended up being tossed on top of her shirt. As Spike gathered her close to him, pressing into her as he kissed her, he reached behind him and turned on the taps in his shower, adjusting them one-handedly so the water was at a perfect temperature. He reached between them and undid the fly on her pants, pushing them down her hips and letting them pool at their feet. He then allowed her to remove her panties, while he quickly stepped out of his own pants.

They stepped into the shower, kissing and caressing, the warm water washing over them and cleaning the remnants of the battle from their tired bodies. They washed each others' bodies slowly, trailing washcloths over water-slickened flesh. Long after the water ran cold, they finally stepped out of the shower and dried each other gently with soft towels. They then collapsed onto the large bed in Spike's room, naked, warm, and exhausted, their bodies curled around one another's.

Part Six

Spike was the first to awaken. At first he thought he was dreaming. Only in his dreams did he ever wake up with his love snuggled in his arms. He gazed at her face adoringly. She looked so serene in sleep, her long eyelashes curling slightly and her lips in a tiny pout. Spike didn't want to leave her, but at the same time he had to find out how the others were doing. He gently disengaged himself from Buffy's embrace, nearly groaning out loud at the loss of contact, then walked over to his dresser and as quickly as possible pulled on a tank top and shorts.

He opened and shut the door practically silently, then walked down the stairs to where he heard loud conversations occurring. He scanned the room for the Nibblet, who immediately launched herself at him, squealing.

Upstairs, the tiny blonde slayer awoke when she turned over and realized that her newly found love was missing. She was flustered for a moment as she realized that she was naked, and in a room that was decidedly not hers. Instead of the pale yellow of her walls, she was greeted with dark reds and shades of gray. She suddenly remembered the occurrences of the previous night and smiled. Then she wrapped herself in a towel and walked back to her own room in the hotel, where she rummaged through her closet until she found a suitable outfit, pulled it on, brushed and styled her hair, and then ran down the stairs.

Spike and Angel, who were both immersed in conversation, immediately jerked their heads up to gaze at the vision descending the stairs. The short, spaghetti-strapped dress clung to their love in all the right places. Spike shook his head, and with a grin, walked over to her and buried his face in her neck, whispering "You look beautiful, luv." He rubbed her waist with his large hands.

Buffy blushed. "Thanks. And you…" she pulled back to examine his outfit of a tight tank and khaki shorts, "look deliciously alive." He kissed the tip of her nose, then released her.

"Get something to eat, luv. I want to spend the day with you."

The tiny blonde grinned slowly before replying. "And I wanna spend the night…" she pecked his lips, "…with you."

"Um, guys?" came a voice from beside them. "I think we should be getting back to Sunnydale at some point today."

"Xander, do we have to?" Buffy pouted, looking at him.

"Hellmouth can't run itself you know."

A collective sigh came from the group, as they answered in unison, "Oh, all right."

Buffy turned back to Spike. "Looks like our plans have changed, baby." Then she winked. "Doesn't mean we can't spend the night with one another, though…"

Spike grinned lecherously. "I don't think the night will be enough."

"And the night after that, and the night after that…"

~*~*~

That night, after a fairly uneventful patrol, Sunnydale's two slayers were walking hand-in hand back toward Revello drive. Suddenly Spike paused, fishing a cell phone out of his duster pocket. He dialed a number, before having a brief conversation with Willow.

"Hello, Red? Could you spend the night with Dawn? Buffy and I have a lead on a new baddie, and it'll take awhile for the two of us to take down. No, no, we have everything under control. Thanks. We'll see you in the morning."

Buffy raised one perfectly-shaped eyebrow. "New baddie, huh?"

"Just follow me." He took her hand in his once again and led her to the wealthiest residential area in the town, where they entered an apartment building. They rode the elevator up to the top floor, where they got out and Spike pulled a key from his pocket. The door swung open to reveal a beautifully furnished penthouse. Buffy stepped in and gaped at how expensive she knew the place was, wondering how Spike could have possibly paid for it.

"You live for one and a half centuries, you tend to collect some money. Made some good decisions in the stock market a few decades back, with IBM and Microsoft, and now I'm worth almost ten million." He grinned. "But money talk is so very un-sexy, luv. Come with me."

Buffy was led up the stairs into the second floor of the penthouse, where a large bedroom was located, as well as an entertainment center and an enormous bathroom. She paused and asked where the stairs that kept going up led, and he replied, "Roof. Got me a hot tub."

His mouth was on hers in an instant, his tongue coaxing hers to play. He backed her into the bedroom, picking her up and laying her on the king-sized bed that was located there. Hands stroked, tongues danced, and clothing fell away.

Spike's lips traveled lower, to her breasts. He sucked one hard nipple between his lips, circling his tongue around it, before leaving a moist trail of kisses across her chest to the other, perfect nipple. He trailed his mouth and fingertips down her body, pausing to delve his tongue into her navel, before continuing on down. His mouth trailed wet kisses along her inner thigh as his fingers explored. He spread her flesh gently before bringing his mouth to her and laving her with his tongue. He sucked on her sensitive nubbin as he thrust first one, then two, and finally three fingers inside her.

"Spi-ike…" she keened, thrashing from his ministrations. "I need you inside me, baby, please…"

Spike crawled up her body slowly, his mouth and chin glistening from her juices. He locked eyes with her as he lowered his mouth to hers and rubbed the head of his erection against her hot, wet flesh. Buffy thrust her hips up against him, and he sank into her tight, welcoming warmth. His eyes nearly crossed at the feel of her.

He stayed still for a few moments, allowing them to get accustomed to each other, then slowly pulled back, his mouth moving up and down her neck as she clutched the back of his head. He pulled out all the way, bumping his hardness up against her clit, then entered her again. This he did several times, until she couldn't take it anymore and wrapped her legs around his waist tightly, preventing him from exiting her completely. Her hands massaged the muscles of his lower back as he thrust into her slowly, with long, deep strokes, his eyes never leaving hers.

Her first orgasm came without warning, and her juices virtually gushed from her as she clamped down on his hard length. Her muscles fluttered around him as she arched off the bed. The second came a few moments later when he reached down and rubbed her clit with two fingers. She was gasping for breath, milking his cock with her inner muscles, as she raked her fingernails down his back. She cried out. Spike was so overtaken with pleasure from watching his love climax that he reared back and began spurting his hot seed into her welcoming body. He groaned her name as he pumped into her, then collapsed atop her, completely spent.

When he could move again, he rolled them to their sides, allowing her to use his arm as a pillow. Still nestled inside her, he allowed himself to drift off to sleep, and she followed minutes later.

A few hours later, Buffy awoke, feeling a fullness between her legs. She looked at her lover, tentatively lifting her head to see that their bodies were still joined. A millimeter at a time, she lifted off his soft penis, then sat up, for the first time allowing her gaze to explore his beautiful body. He was perfect. She inched away from Spike, then lifted a fingertip and drew it across his well-defined pectoral muscles, before allowing it to travel downward over his abdomen, whose muscles clenched slightly at her touch. Glancing upward to ensure that her lover still slumbered, she trailed her fingers down the fine line of dark hair that began at his navel to his groin, where she combed her fingers through the thick, crinkly hair that grew there.

Her eyes shot back to his face. He still breathed evenly and his eyes remained closed. She lifted her finger and drew the soft pad across his flaccid length. It twitched at the contact, and this encouraged her. She encircled it with her hand, rubbing it up and down as it hardened quickly. A pearly droplet of pre-cum formed and she examined it for a few moments before lowering her head, darting her tongue out to catch it. The taste was tangy, rather salty, but not bad. She lowered her mouth a bit more daringly, licking daintily at the swollen head of his shaft. Spike's breathing went a bit ragged, and she glanced up worriedly. His eyes remained closed.

Buffy took the entire head of his shaft into her mouth, sucking at it and running her tongue around it. One hand came up to massage the heavy testicles that hung below his large cock. She set to work taking as much of his hardness into her mouth as she could, her mouth raising and lowering slightly. This time when she looked up at him, his eyes were open, hot, molten blue boring into her own hazel orbs. She waggled the fingers of her free hand at him before trailing this hand down below the hand that was working his balls. She scratched lightly at the sensitive area just beneath his sac.

Spike's hands clenched at the sheets of the bed as his head lolled around, his eyes rolled back in ecstasy. His testicles tightened and raised, and Buffy sucked down harder on his penis, awaiting his climax. Guttural moans escaped his lips, rumbling in his chest. He shouted loudly as he came in her mouth, thrashing and moaning her name over and over. She sucked down his cum greedily, her eyes locked on his face. When he collapsed, limp, she crawled back up his body and snuggled on his chest.

His breathing was ragged for a few minutes, and several times he opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Finally, he was able to gasp, "You have fifty years to quit doing that, luv."

Buffy licked his earlobe before asking, "Only fifty? I thought forever sounded better, personally."

She kissed his lips softly, and fell into a deep slumber.

Epilogue

She looked at the small white wand again. This was the fifth one that she had used. But there was no denying it. She was pregnant with Spike's child. Straightening her shoulders, she walked out of the bathroom, then entered her closet and pulled out a short, black dress for her dinner date with her love.

Her doorbell rang fifteen minutes later, and she opened it to reveal Spike dressed in a tuxedo, carrying a fistful of cream-colored roses. He kissed her in greeting, and she retrieved a vase from her dining room, filling it with water and taking the roses from him. She set them in the water, pulled her sheer black shawl around her shoulders, and took the arm Spike offered her.

Outside her house, a long, white limousine was parked. The chauffer opened the door for the obviously smitten couple, then got into the driver's seat and they were on their way.

Spike was fidgeting nervously, and his hand kept trailing to his pocket. Buffy became aware of his nervous movements, and asked softly "What's wrong, baby?"

He looked at her, saw the genuine concern on her face. Love poured from his cerulean eyes. "Buffy, do you love me?"

"Of course I do. I've never felt this way about anyone, ever." She smiled. "What's up?"

"You know that I feel the same way, baby. You know that you're the best thing that ever happened to me." He gave a half smile before reaching for his pocket again. "How would you like to make it legal?"

Buffy's mouth dropped open in shock. Tears immediately clouded her vision as Spike got down on one knee and pulled a small, dark blue jewelry box out of his pocket. Upon opening it, Buffy saw the most perfect, white gold and sapphire ring with diamonds framing the blue stone. "Buffy Anne Summers, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

"I…" A tear rolled down her cheek. "I don't know what to say."

He grinned. "Come on now, luv. We've done this before." He cleared his throat, grinning. "Just say yes, and make me the happiest man on Earth."

She flung her arms around his neck, covering his face with kisses. "Oh, Spike, of course I'll marry you!" She pulled back and held out one hand daintily. "Put it on me?"

Spike gently took her hand in his and slipped the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly.

Buffy sat up suddenly. "Spike, while we're in surprise mode… I have something to tell you."

He sat back onto the seat, his head cocked warily. "What is it, luv?"

"Spike… I'm pregnant. We're going to have a baby." She smiled through her tears.

It was Spike's turn to have his mouth drop open in shock. He grinned. "Cor," he whispered, placing one hand on her belly. "A baby. I don't know what I did to deserve this life, luv, but I'm so glad I got it." His face immediately straightened with resolve. "If it's a boy we're naming him William Andrew. If it's a girl, we're naming her Molly."

Buffy laughed. "I understand the William, but Molly?"

"My little sister, luv. Her name was Molly. Molly Elizabeth Bradford. She… died of typhus when I was fifteen." A sad, faraway look passed over his features.

"What if it's twins?" she suddenly asked. "I've always wanted a Jason or a Leah."

Spike grinned. "I love you. You're the most amazing woman I have ever met. I'm so bloody thankful that I have you."

"So when are we getting married?"

"That's a secret."

~*~*~

An hour later, Spike and Buffy exited the small wedding chapel as Mr. and Mrs. William Andrew Bradford. The bride wept. The groom grinned like an idiot during the entire ceremony. Life was good.