Something New

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike directed Buffy into the utility room and left her there to deal with her clothes while he went to order her food. She found a pair of rubber gloves and stood at the sink scrubbing at her dress, trying to get the worst of the mess out, but mostly she feared she was just spreading it around, and apparently, rayon was no match for demon drool. But, she tossed the dress and her panties into the washer anyway and hoped for the best.

She closed the lid and leaned against the washer, her head bowed.

What the hell am I doing?

She lifted her head, taking a deep breath. She was a grown woman. If she wanted to sleep with every vamp from here to Timbuktu, she would. It was her business. Besides, once this chaos slime wore off, she'd be back to normal and could go back to treating Spike like the soulless vampire he was.

The only thing was...she was feeling guilty about leading the soulless vampire on.

How crazy was that?

He loved her. She didn't doubt that. Something about him made it possible to love, and he would die for her. Or Dawn. She wouldn't be surprised if he'd do the same for the rest of the Scoobies, Xander included.

But that didn't change what he was.

Or what she was.

She should just leave, before things got any more complicated than they already were.

"But, no clothes," she said aloud. "You're clothesless. You could go out there and have to fight some horrible demon and...embarrassing and why are you talking to yourself, Buffy?"

"Good question."

Her eyes flew to the doorway to see an amused Spike leaning there.

"I - I - " she sputtered.

He waved off her attempted explanation. "No need. I do it all the time. But then, I do so love to hear myself talk."

"Yeah, big newsflash there," she murmured.

His eyebrows rose slightly, but he let that one pass. "I ordered Chinese food. They won't come in the cemetery at night, so I need to go wait by the entrance."

His eyes dropped, admiring the way she looked standing there dressed only in his shirt, and Buffy's eyes followed his hand as he sensuously rubbed his naked belly, the tips of his fingers almost touching his fly where the button was still unfastened.

"But, I have a few minutes to spare..."

Wrenching her eyes away, she tugged on the bottom of the shirt, acutely aware of her lack of underwear. "You don't want to keep the delivery guy waiting. That - that demon could come back."

He strolled forward until he was standing within inches of her. "Can't have that, can we?"

She stepped back.

He followed.

She backed into the washer. Unable to retreat any further, she smacked one hand in the center of his chest to hold him back, and had to consciously force her hand to be still and not wander over those smooth, hard muscles.

"Spike. Delivery guy."

"Plenty of time, luv."

He leaned forward, lowering his head to nuzzle her neck. The hand against his chest relaxed, and he moved forward another couple of inches, resting his hands on the washer behind her. He brushed his cheek against hers, and goose bumps rose on her skin. As his mouth traveled closer to hers, her eyes drifted shut, anticipating the feel of his mouth against hers, forgetting all about food or clothes or leaving. His mouth hovered a fraction of an inch away from hers, and he felt a slight puff of air as her lips parted on a sigh.

He waited.

A small crinkle appeared between her eyes when the expected kiss didn't come. She leaned back, opening puzzled eyes. He swept one searing gaze down her body and up, taking in the rapid pulse throbbing in her neck, her quickened breathing, and the hardened nipples making little points in his shirt. He smiled, a deliberate, slightly mischievous smile, and stepped back.

"Don't want your food to get cold."

Her mouth dropped open even further as she watched him turn and saunter away. As he left the utility room, she closed her mouth with a snap and slumped against the washer, wondering how it was possible that a little bit of slime had turned her into such a ho-bag. A great, big, horny, gotta-have-it-right-now ho-bag.

And it didn't bear thinking about why the "it" she had to have was Spike.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oh!" Buffy gasped.

"No, that's good, luv, just like that."

"Like that?"

"Yeah, yeah, nice and easy like."

"Oh -oh - oh!"

"Keep going, luv, keep going."

"Oh...damn!"

Buffy frowned fiercely when the chicken she was trying to eat slid out of her chopsticks and plopped back into its little white box. She poked at her food, trying to pick something - anything - up, but everything she managed to grab slipped through the ends of the sticks. She finally speared a piece of meat with one of the chopsticks and held it up triumphantly.

Spike laughed. "It's chicken, luv, not a nasty vampire."

Leaning forward with her mouth open, she tried to bite it, but it fell back into the plate an inch before it reached her mouth. She groaned in frustration. "I can't help it. Little wooden sticks are meant for stabbing, not grabbing."

"Here." He reached over, expertly scooped up a piece of chicken with his chopsticks and held it in front of her mouth. "Open up."

She opened her mouth and he slid the tender, succulent piece of chicken in. She closed her eyes in rapture, chewing slowly, savoring the wonderful flavor. She moaned with delight and opened her eyes in search of more, finding that Spike already had a broccoli floret waiting for her. He continued to feed her, taking a bite or two himself in between. He had gotten an assortment of dishes, not really sure what she liked, and Buffy had practically pounced on the fragrant food when he came in, dragging him to the breakfast bar in the kitchen and diving into the food.

Her hunger momentarily sated, Buffy stared curiously at Spike as he sampled the different meats and vegetables before him.

"Why do you eat?" He looked at her, puzzled by the question. "I mean, you don't have to. You don't need it to live."

"Well, I don't need sex to live either, but I didn't give that up when I died, did I?" he said with a pointed grin.

"Seriously."

"I am serious. Eating is a very sensual experience." He held up a piece of carrot. "Look at that. Visually, it's bright, vibrant." He held it to his nose. "The scents, spices, flavorings." He put it in his mouth and chewed slowly, closing his eyes as he swallowed. "And then there's taste, the crunch, the way your mouth comes alive, flooding your senses with the essence of the food, the tang of its juices on your tongue, the - "

"Okay! Got it. You like to eat." Get a grip, Buffy. He was talking about food, for God's sake.

"Yes, I do." His eyes sparkled and his voice lowered. "Always on the lookout for something new to...taste."

Okay, it wasn't just her, because he was so not talking about food this time. He popped a mushroom in her mouth when it fell open and grinned impishly at her. Deciding he needed a distraction, she wracked her brain for something else to talk about. Her eyes fell on the fortune cookies he'd set aside.

"Okay, let me see my fortune. Maybe I'm destined to be rich and famous."

He reached over with his chopsticks, picked up one cookie and with a flick of his wrist, lobbed it right into her hand. Deciding if he could do it, so could she, Buffy dropped the cookie, picked up her sticks and tried to lift the cookie, only to wrinkle her nose in dismay when it crumbled into bits under the pressure she used.

"Give me a fork and spoon any day."

"It takes a light touch, pet. You'll find chopsticks are really quite versatile once you learn to use them."

He used his sticks to pick up the other cookie, holding it up and turning it this way and that. With a swish, he tossed the cookie into the air and caught it on its way down, and not so much as a crumb fell off. With a quick snap, he neatly cut it in two and extracted the fortune, all without ever touching it with his fingers.

Amazed, Buffy shook her head. "You have way too much time on your hands."

He shrugged. "You live 120 years, you get bored every now and then."

He let the fortune flutter to the table, picked up a piece of the cookie with the chopsticks and carried it to her mouth. Swiveling on his stool to face her, he trailed the tips of the sticks lightly down her chin and neck, teasing the hollow of her throat.

"You find an everyday item and you experiment, seeing what new ways you can play with that item."

The sticks ran lazily across her collarbone, and she found herself mesmerized by the deep timber of his voice as she slowly chewed the cookie.

"You ask yourself, I wonder what this would feel like here?"

He ran the ends in soft circles around her breast, rubbing the T-shirt against her suddenly painfully erect nipple. She swallowed, hard.

"You tell yourself, I bet this would feel good."

She inhaled sharply when he tweaked her nipple with the blunt chopsticks.

"And, then you think, well, if that felt so good, then this would feel even better."

She watched wide-eyed as the sticks slid down her stomach and to her thighs, tracing a path to her tightly closed knees. He wiggled the sticks and she allowed her legs to fall open just enough to let them in, and he moved them forward, reaching the bottom of his shirt. He slipped the tips under the shirt and slowly inched it upwards. The curls at the juncture of her thighs were just starting to peek out when a loud buzzer sounded from the utility room.

They both jumped.

"Bloody hell!"

Buffy hopped off the stool and backed away. "I - I should go put my dress in to dry."

She turned and escaped into the utility room, closing the door behind her and leaning against it, trying to slow her ragged breathing.

Chopsticks...I'm getting turned on by chopsticks.

And scarily enough, part of her - a part she was mentally slapping upside the head - was dying to find out what he would have done with those chopsticks.

~~~~~~~~~~

Twirling the chopsticks idly in his nimble fingers, Spike waited for Buffy to return from the utility room. He smiled when he thought of her scampering away like a frightened rabbit.

If truth be told, he had never used chopsticks for any sort of erotic play, but everything seemed to take on a sensual appeal when he was with the Slayer. And he had every intention of thoroughly exploring the infinite possibilities with her.

If she'd ever come out of the bleeding laundry room.

After five minutes had passed, he frowned, dumped the sticks onto the bar, and rose. He opened the door and leaned against the doorjamb. She stood, staring at her dress, which she had spread over the top of the washer, and he immediately sensed a quiet sadness coming from her.

"Buffy?"

She smoothed the dress with the flat of her hand. "It's ruined."

"You can't mend it?"

She shook her head and held the dress up, and he could see that in addition to the tear where the demon's claws had ripped through the side, there were several large holes where the fabric appeared to have been melted away. It was unwearable, but he sensed there was more going on here than just the loss of a pretty bit of clothing.

"Better the dress than you."

"My mom gave me this dress," she said quietly. "It was one of the last things...before..."

"Ah."

She traced one of the holes in the dress with her finger. "All she wanted was for me to have a normal life."

"All she wanted was for you to be happy." In an effort to lighten the moment, he added, "I'm sure she's somewhere smiling right now, seeing you've finally gotten the sense to come be with me. She liked me, you know."

"Somehow, I don't see her sticking you in the 'normal' category."

"But I'd wager you've had some very happy moments in the last few hours."

Seeing his cocky smile out of the corner of her eye, she nodded, pursing her lips as she took her panties out of the washing machine. "Yeah, you're right."

Surprised, he arched his brows, and his smile grew bolder. She turned to give him a wide-eyed look.

"Eating Chinese food always gives me a happy."

He laughed and stepped to the side, sweeping an arm towards the kitchen.

"Well, then, your happy awaits."

Suppressing a grin, she tossed the panties into the drier, switched it on and sailed past him with her nose in the air. She hopped onto her stool, picked up her chopsticks and carefully tried to lift a bite to her mouth.

"Eat up, luv."

He came to stand behind her and lowered his head to speak softly into her ear.

"And then I'll see about giving you some non-food related happies. Although..." He fluttered his lips against her neck. "Eating may be involved."

Buffy's fingers clenched, and with a sharp crack, the chopsticks snapped in two, the piece of meat they'd been holding skittering across the bar. Spike sat on his own stool with a satisfied smile.

"You're not eating, pet," he chided.

She gave herself a little shake, desperately hoping he wouldn't notice the flush creeping up her neck. Yeah, a vampire not noticing blood surging, that might happen.

"Sooo..." Her eyes lit on the crumpled fortunes. She snatched hers up. " 'Your wisdom has kept you far from danger.' Ha! Slayer issues aside, do they realize everyone here is living on a Hellmouth? What does yours say?"

Spike looked up from reading his. "They're obviously meaningless." He tossed it on the table. "Are you finished yet?"

"No." She gave him a curious look and picked up his fortune. " 'Do not mistake temptation for opportunity.' " Her lips twitched. "Now that's sound advice."

"Rubbish." He handed her his chopsticks. "Food. Eat."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Xander entered the Magic Box and met the worried eyes of his friends. "No luck?"

Willow shook her head. "Nothing. She called Dawn earlier, but no one's heard a thing since then."

"I went by Spike's, but he wasn't there either." A strange look crossed Xander's face. "You don't think..." He shook his head and waved that ridiculous idea off. "No, not happening, so not thinking that."

Tara and Willow exchanged a look, but neither spoke. Xander looked from one to the other.

"What?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They finished eating and Buffy insisted they clean up their mess. She retrieved her panties from the drier, slipped them on under the T-shirt, and looked down at her bare legs.

"Not exactly an abundance of clothes happening here."

He grabbed his duster and held it out to her. "You can wear this."

She took it, looking doubtfully at him wearing just his jeans. "What about you?"

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter."

"Here, you can put this back on."

She started to take his shirt off, saw the pleased smile that crossed his face and turned her back to draw the tee over her head. Spike's grinned and enjoyed the view from this angle until she shrugged into the leather coat and handed him his shirt.

He slipped it over his head, still grinning. "Afraid you won't be able to keep your hands off of me, are you?"

"No, the moon's out tonight. I'm afraid I'll be blinded by all that white skin."

"Ah, then it's your eyes you won't be able to keep off of me."

She let out an exasperated huff of breath. "Conceited, much?"

"Is it conceited to speak the truth?"

"Oh, God." She grabbed the remains of her dress and headed for the door. "Come on, Truth Boy."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It turned out it was Spike who couldn't keep his hands off Buffy as they walked back to the crypt. He started out just taking her hand again, sliding the sleeve of his coat up to find it, but soon he was trying to get a look under his coat, the knowledge that she wore nothing but a little scrap of silk and lace driving him nuts.

Buffy slapped at the hand trying to open the coat. "Stop it."

"Come on, luv." He ran one finger along the neckline of the coat. "It's not like I haven't seen it all already."

She swatted the finger and grasped the neckline in her hand, holding it closed even more. "Then you don't need to see it now, in the middle of a public cemetery."

He looked around. "Don't see a lot of people hanging about, pet."

He swung her around, pulling her against him with one arm around her waist. He covered her mouth with his to stop the protest he knew was coming, kissing her until he felt her body relax in his arms. He slowly separated his lips from hers.

"Just a little peek now," he whispered.

Her eyes, only half-open, watched him as he parted the sides of the coat, baring her to the cool night and his hot eyes. Her nipples tightened, whether from the temperature or from the look in his eyes, she couldn't have said. Spike, looking at her warm flesh, moaned and lowered his head to get a taste.

"Well, lookee here, boys."

Spike's head lifted. He jerked the coat closed and gave a long-suffering sigh before turning to face the three large vampires standing behind him. He judged the leader to be the one who was the largest, not to mention the smelliest.

"Evening, fellows. Just passing through?"

Smelly grinned. "No, sir. We're thinking we'll stay."

Buffy stepped around Spike. "I'm thinking that was the wrong answer."

"Oh, look, boys, a Vampire Slayer. Though it looks like she's more of a Vampire Layer." Smelly nudged the other two with his elbows and laughed heartily at his own lame joke. "I've never fucked a Slayer before. I bet she's one hot piece of ass."

Before Buffy could get her mouth open to verbally slay the idiot, Spike was at the vamp's throat. "Watch your mouth. And apologize to the lady."

"That's no lady, that's - " Smelly's voice choked off as Spike's grip tightened. The other two vamps, obviously a tad wiser than their leader, stayed clear. "What's the deal, man? You're a vampire, too."

"Yes, very astute of you. And I'm becoming a very impatient one at that. Apologize."

"I'm not apologizing to no bitch Slayer slut - " His eyes widened in surprise right before he disintegrated into dust.

Spike frowned in irritation at Buffy, who was standing holding a stake that he recognized as being one of the ones he carried in his coat.

"What the bloody hell did you do that for? The bastard never apologized!"

"Yeah, and I'm going to lie awake nights worried about it too."

She whirled and slammed the stake into the heart of the vamp who was stupid enough to try to creep up on her. Without pausing, she withdrew the stake and hurled it towards the other vamp who had a bit of brain and was trying to escape, wiping her hands in satisfaction when he ended as a pile of dust as well. She looked at Spike, who was staring grumpily at Smelly's dust pile. She tugged on his arm.

"Come on."

Buffy stole looks at his annoyed face as they walked until finally she chuckled and shook her head. Spike frowned at her.

"What's so bleeding funny?"

"You are. Do you realize you've said things to me that are a hell of a lot nastier than that vamp ever thought of saying?"

He winced. "That was before."

"I'm just saying, it's funny to see you being all 'Watch your mouth'," she said, the last part in a bad imitation of his accent.

He arched a brow at her. "Funny, is it?"

She nodded. She frowned ferociously and deepened her voice. " 'Apologize to the lady.' " The accent was even worse this time as she tried to talk around a giggle.

"I do not and have not ever sounded like that."

She laughed even more at the indignant tone in his voice. Warned by the look in his eyes, she danced to the right as he lunged at her, and she took off running. She ran as fast as she could, a huge smile plastered on her face, feeling a light-heartedness she hadn't felt sincewell, probably since she had found out she was the Slayer. It felt so good, and free, and suddenly some mischievous imp took over her. She stopped running at the door of the crypt and turned to face Spike, who was not far behind. She grasped the edges of his coat in her hands and threw her arms wide, posing in the doorway, framed by black leather in the soft moonlight.

Arrested by the sight, Spike stopped running and drank in the view. "My God, you're beautiful."

Her laughter faded at the intensity of his gaze, but she kept the coat open, letting him look his fill, feeling a tingling warmth spread throughout her body.

He walked slowly forward and when he reached her, he slid his hands around her waist. He pulled her body against his, so tightly that any other woman would have been crushed, but Buffy just made a small sound in her throat and tried to get closer, letting the coat go to put her arms around his neck. He slid one arm lower, lifting her up, and Buffy, burying her face in his neck, wrapped her legs around his hips as he carried her inside the crypt. He set her on the edge of the tomb and stood between her legs, turning his head to search for her mouth, finding it and taking it with his in a fierce kiss.

He slid the coat off of her and his hands roamed her naked back, and he reveled in the freedom he had to hold and touch this woman he had wanted for so long. One hand slid around to the front and slowly came up to cup her breast, and Buffy gasped against his mouth at the contact. Spike pulled back, and together they watched as his hand gently squeezed her breast and his black-nailed thumb rasped softly over the nipple. Smiling when he saw it harden, he dipped his head and kissed the upper curve of her breast. He trailed a series of kisses across the soft skin, one after another, spiraling closer and closer, slowly nearing the center, and only when he felt her nails begin to dig into his shoulders did he finally brush a feather-light kiss across the taut tip.

Buffy's breath caught in her throat, and through heavy-lidded eyes, she watched as his lips pursed slightly and he pressed a whisper of a kiss against the nipple. She held her breath as his mouth opened, his tongue emerged, and with the very tip, he delicately flicked the rigid peak. The air escaped her lungs in a rush, and she rested one hand behind her and arched her back, needing more, silently urging him to take her in his mouth, but he just played with her there, licking her with soft taps of his tongue, circling around, switching to the other breast to tease it into a hard point as well until finally she couldn't take any more. She grabbed his head, forcing him closer, and with a low, wicked chuckle, he closed his mouth around one tight, aching nipple and suckled her.

"Oh, God."

Gulping for air, Buffy clutched his head, keeping him tight against her, every pull of his mouth creating an answering pulse between her legs. When his teeth scraped against her tender flesh in a light nibble, a small cry escaped her, and she bit her lower lip to keep from making any more sounds. But she almost groaned aloud when Spike suddenly stopped and raised his head. He put his hand up and nudged her lip free with his thumb.

"Don't do that. Don't hide. I want to hear you." He met her eyes. "I want to know what pleases you."

"Well, what you were doing? That was good. But the stopping?" She shook her head. "Not good, not good at all."

"Sorry, luv, " he murmured as he lowered his head. He nuzzled her breast. "Is this better?"

She closed her eyes and answered him with a soft hum of pleasure at feeling his mouth on her again. But her eyes opened when his mouth left her breast and they flew wide when she felt him kissing his way down her stomach.

"Spike?"

"Hmm?"

His lips grazed a path along the top edge of her panties.

"I - "

Whatever she planned to say died on a strangled gasp when he pressed his lips against her right through her panties. He hooked his fingers in the sides of the bit of silk.

"Lift up."

She automatically obeyed the quiet command, raising her hips for him, and he pulled the panties down and off, tossing them aside. He straightened, tilting his head to the side to look down and admire the picture she made, sitting on his bed, nude, aroused, open for him, waiting for him. Realizing that she wore not a stitch while he was still fully dressed, a belated sense of modesty came over her and she tried to press her legs together, but he put his hands on her thighs and kept them apart, gently urging them open even more.

He knelt between her splayed thighs, sliding his hands down the backs of her legs until he reached her sandals and slipped them off. He turned his head and gently kissed her next to her knee, slowing gliding his lips up the inside of her thigh. He paused on the soft, sensitive flesh of her inner thigh and his mouth opened against her, lightly sucking. Buffy's breathing grew ragged and she licked her lips in anticipation of what he would do next. He moved again, passing over the part where she wanted his mouth the most, and kissing her other thigh. She moaned softly and moved her hips restlessly, and Spike smiled against her thigh.

"In a hurry, luv? This is not the kind of thing I like to rush." He pulled back slightly, inhaling the aroused scent of her, training his eyes on the wet, pink flesh before him. "And this is one sweet little pussy I plan to enjoy thoroughly."

"Oh, God." She closed her eyes, half embarrassed, half even more aroused by his words. "What happened to "Watch your mouth'?"

"You can watch my mouth."

With that, he leaned forward and kissed her, and embarrassment fled to be replaced with pure pleasure. He opened his mouth against her, and his tongue came out to pass in one long, slow sweep between her legs. He moaned with his own pleasure, savoring the taste of her, and licked her again. He lapped at her, drinking her in, and Buffy groaned and closed her eyes, pressing her pelvis forward. She lay back onto the tomb as she felt his hands slide under her hips, cupping her ass and lifting her to his voracious mouth. He slid his tongue inside her and out, then plunged it back in when she moaned. Buffy clutched the sides of the top of the tomb as he swirled his tongue around and out, licking his way up. She jumped and gasped when he found the hard ridge of her clitoris and rolled his tongue slowly around it.

Spike flicked her with the tip of his tongue, quick teasing jabs, making her whimper with need. He flattened his tongue and licked her, lightly, softly, enjoying the way her hips bucked against his face. Only when she moaned "please" did he finally open his mouth and gently suck. Buffy's hands gripped the tomb so tightly that stone crumbled in her hands, and she let go and clutched Spike's head instead, burying her fingers in his hair and holding him against her. He sucked her again, hearing her cry out, feeling her legs clench around him, and he continued, sucking, licking, nibbling, feasting on her until with a sharp cry, her entire body stiffened and pulsed with the waves of her orgasm.

Spike continued to kiss and lick her softly, slowly, soothing her sensitized flesh, hearing her ragged breathing gradually slow. He felt the fluttering aftershocks of her orgasm on his tongue as he gently slid his tongue inside her. Her hands fell away from his head and he sensed her body relaxing, and she took a deep breath.

"Oh, God, " she said.

"Mmm-hmm," he responded, the sound vibrating through her.

"Spike, what are you - " He applied a light suction and she lifted her head to stare down at him. "Oh, God, what are you doing?"

He slid one finger inside her and grinned devilishly up at her. "Making up for lost time?"

The next hours passed in a haze of pleasure, and Buffy lost track of how many times or how many ways they made love. Sometimes slow, sometimes fast, at times rough, but more often gentle, Spike led her through a wonderland of sensuality that her previous relationships had only hinted at. He gave her no time to think, no time to reason, he only let her feel. And touch. And enjoy.

Once, after a particularly intense session on a pallet of blankets on the floor, Buffy crawled away from him and onto the stone seat under a window, vaguely wondering what all the vamps and other demons were up to. She leaned over and tried to peer through the panes of frosted glass, and though it seemed to be nearing morning, she was unable to see much of anything.

She started when cool lips brushed against the small of her back and then traveled upwards. She shivered and closed her eyes.

"No. No more. I can't."

"Yes. You can."

He pressed his length against her back, and his hands slid from her hips around to her breasts, cupping them, gently squeezing, and amazingly, she felt a tingle of desire run through her tired body. He slid inside her, pulling back out slowly, then back in. He began a gentle back and forth, building her pleasure, a slow steady climb, and soon she was moving with him, her hips meeting his. She gripped him deep inside with her climax, a slow, hard burst of pleasure that wracked her body, and with a hoarse groan, he came too, grasping her hips and pouring himself into her.

Exhausted, Buffy collapsed against the cool stone, breathing hard. Spike bent over her and kissed the center of her back.

"Spike, if you touch me again, I swear I'll stake you."

The impact of the threat was somewhat lessened by the fact that the Slayer never opened her eyes and in fact pressed her hips back against him again. Spike chuckled and gathered her into his arms.

"I'm all a-tremble, luv."

He carried her to the pallet and set her down, covering her with a blanket and lying down next to her. She snuggled against him and they both fell into the deep sleep of the fully satiated.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 5 - Something Right

For the second time, Spike drifted up from sleep with warm, soft Slayer in his arms. He decided right then and there that it had to be the sweetest thing he had ever felt, and he was sure that if he did it every day for the next century, it would still feel as sweet. God knew he’d like to find out.

He tried to ease himself away from her, but her arms held on to him and she murmured a wordless sound of protest. His throat tightened to think that she wanted him near even in sleep.

"I’ll be back, luv," he whispered.

She frowned in her sleep, but her arms loosened and he managed to slip away, carefully covering her with the blanket as he did. Judging by the light coming through the frosted glass windows, it must be getting close to afternoon, which meant it had been over twenty-four hours since he had fed. And he had expended quite a lot of energy in that time. The thought of how he’d expended that energy added a little swagger to his step as he crossed to his refrigerator and got a pint of blood. He drank it down, for once not even noticing the lack of warmth. The blood was a necessity to keep him among the undead…he was anxious to get back to what was making him feel alive.

He swirled a swig of wine in his mouth to wash down the blood and returned to Buffy. She had turned on her side, and he carefully crawled in next to her, lifting the blanket to spoon his naked front against her naked back. She sighed and leaned back against him. Propping his head on his hand and sliding the other arm across her waist, he brushed kisses across her shoulder.

"I’m telling you right now, there’s no way I’m moving," Buffy said on a small yawn. He nibbled on the curve of her neck and pressed his pelvis against her. "Ever," she added firmly.

"That’s all right, luv. I’ll do all the moving."

His hand found her breast, and he smiled against her neck when he found the nipple already tightening. He fondled her, swirling the tip of his finger around the hard peak, teasing her until he heard the little catch in her throat and felt her arch slightly into his hand. He took her nipple into his fingers and plucked, and she responded with a small, soft moan. Sucking on her neck, he let his hand slide down her stomach, and she tilted her head to bare her neck to him. The trust implicit in that gesture slammed into him and he rained soft, pleased kisses along the vein pulsing there. His hand slid between her legs, and he groaned at finding her already hot and wet for him. He lifted her leg, pulling it over his hip so that she was open to him, positioning himself at her opening. With one long, slow push, he entered her, sliding in as deep as he could go and resting there, snug within her.

Almost identical sighs drifted from their mouths.

Spike trailed kisses along her cheek and his hand slid in a slow caress across her body, swirling over her stomach and up to her breasts to lightly cup her. She brought one hand up to the back of his neck, turning her face to him and pulling his mouth to hers. They kissed, a soft caress of their mouths against each other, once, twice, and he pulled back to smile at her, though she never opened her eyes.

"Mmmm." She shifted slightly, clenching him tightly within her as she did, and he groaned. "Didn’t you say something about moving?"

"That I did."

He rocked gently inside her, holding her close with the hand cupping her breast, kneading the soft flesh in his hand. He felt her hand open and close in his hair with the same rhythm with which she grasped him inside, so he continued the soft rocking, feeling her clasp him tighter and tighter with each inward move. Her breathing grew stronger, soft pants escaping her, interspersed with an occasional sharp inhalation when he moved a certain way. Her hand left his head, seeking and finding his hand, threading her fingers through his and gripping tightly. He curled his fingers around hers and cradled her close, never stopping the steady rocking of his hips, slowly taking her higher and higher. He felt her orgasm start and he kept moving, leaning his head back to watch her, delighting in the pleasure he could see on her face, pleasure he was giving her.

Buffy’s fingers clenched around his when she hit the peak, the leg over his hips tightening around him, and she held her breath as she forgot her intention not to move and ground her hips against his, riding wave after wave of intense pleasure. It seemed to go on forever, and when she finally drifted down, she let her breath out in a long exhalation, her body still quivering from her climax.

God, this beats the hell out of an alarm clock, she thought, though she wouldn’t have admitted that to Spike to save her life. She opened her eyes, closing them immediately when she found him still watching her. She realized it was kind of silly to be shy after all the things he had done to her the night before. Not to mention the things she had done to him.

He brushed his lips along her chin. "Good morning, Slayer, " he said softly. "Or, good afternoon, I should say."

Her eyes opened. "What time is it?"

"Almost one. Passions is coming on soon." He nibbled on her earlobe. "But we still have time for one more go."

"One more - ah!" Her eyes slid shut as he moved within her. "Yeah, one more."

She experienced an unaccustomed sense of loss as he slipped out of her, but it only lasted long enough for him to turn her on her back and settle back between her legs. One more time turned into two more, both times slow and soft and mind-numbingly pleasurable. Spike rolled to the side, carried Buffy with him and cuddling her close to his side, one hand moving soothingly up and down her naked back. She raised one leg to drape over his and her thigh brushed his groin. She raised her head and looked down, seeing him still hard and ready.

"My God, that thing is a monster."

He grinned. "Sorry, luv, no time now."

He got up and turned the TV on, then walked back and reached down to pick her up, carrying her blanket and all to the one chair he had. He sat, setting her in his lap and wrapping his arms around her. She opened her mouth, but Spike, intently watching the television, spoke first.

"Timmy was kidnapped last week and they had him hanging over a roaring fire. I missed it yesterday…" He paused to give her a salacious grin at the thought of why he had missed it. "…and I want to find out if Timmy’s been saved."

Buffy stared at TV. "You mean, the doll? That doll’s been kidnapped?"

"Oh, he’s not just a doll anymore. He’s been brought to life by Tabitha."

"Don’t tell me, she wiggled her nose with her finger or something?"

He gave her a scornful look. "Different Tabitha."

She opened her mouth again and he shushed her as they saw Timmy being lowered towards the fire. For the next hour, they watched the show, and Spike filled her in on the different characters and the goings-on of Harmony, Massachusetts. Once Timmy was saved, though, Spike’s attention seemed to waiver and during commercials, he kept shooting Buffy contented smiles until finally she burst out, "Will you stop that? You’re freaking me out."

"Stop what?"

"Stop being all smiley and …and all big smiley."

"Sorry, luv, I forgot you were used to the broody kind of vamp." And he made a face that perfectly captured Angel at his most morose.

She couldn’t help it, she laughed. It was only a short, soft laugh, but it ended in the first genuine smile Spike could ever remember her directing his way. He drank in the sight and raised one hand to cup her cheek, meeting her eyes, and for the first time in months, he let everything he felt for her shine through.

"Buffy," he whispered.

The smile stayed on her lips, but she closed her eyes, not quite prepared to deal with the intensity of the emotions he was showing her. She slid her hands up his arms to his neck, pulling his head to her. His lips met hers in a soft, tender kiss, slowing moving, tasting her, savoring her. She shifted around until she was straddling him, keeping the blanket wrapped around them in a warm cocoon, pressing her body as close to his as possible. She could feel him harden, lengthening between their bodies, and she pulled back, moving them to position him to enter her, sinking down with a sighing moan. She closed her eyes and moved her hips slowly, taking him in as far as she could.

Spike’s hands slipped up her shoulders to plunge into her hair, pulling her mouth back to his for a long, deep kiss. He pulled his head back and watched her face as he pressed his hips up to meet hers.

"Buffy."

She sighed a "hmm".

"Open your eyes."

She forced her eyelids up, revealing unfocussed eyes.

"Look at me, luv."

She met his gaze, this time not hiding from the love she saw blazing there. She held his eyes and a small, simple smile came to her lips. If possible, his eyes lit even more, and a soft, sweet smile crossed his face. She stopped moving, still holding him deep inside, and lifted one hand, trailing a finger across his smiling lips and then cupping his cheek in her hand. He leaned his face against her hand, delighting in the first affectionate touch he had ever gotten from her. She leaned forward, replacing her hand with her lips, dappling his cheek with soft kisses.

Without warning, the door of the crypt banged open, and an agitated Willow came flying through, her eyes immediately finding Spike in his chair.

"Spike, Buffy’s missing and - Oh!" Her eyes flew wide when she realized that someone was with Spike and immediately she squeezed them shut again when she saw flashes of bare flesh and it hit her the someone was female and she realized exactly what they were doing.

"Oh, bloody hell! Can’t you people ever knock?"

Buffy first buried her head against him then slid off his lap onto the floor, desperately wishing she had been slimed by a demon who turned a person invisible.

"I’m sorry, but Buffy’s missing and we thought, you know, you being the tunnel guy and all, maybe she was down there and you could find her and I’m sooo sorry and I never realized you…entertained in here. Not that you couldn’t, just I didn’t know you had any friends. Uh, other friends. I mean, you know what kind of friend Anya would call them…" She could practically feel the annoyance radiating from Spike. "Buffy’s missing!"

Spike looked down at Buffy, crouching by his feet, not at all surprised that she would not want her friends to know, but still surprised that it hurt so much. His mouth twisted at the anxious look she gave him and he cocked one sardonic brow at her but didn’t give her away. With a resigned roll of her eyes, she rose and draped the blanket around herself before speaking.

"I’m here, Will."

Willow’s eyes flew wide. "Buffy?"

She rushed over and hugged her friend, relief plain on her face. Buffy got one arm free of the blanket and hugged her back until Willow suddenly jerked back.

"Wait a minute."

Her eyes dropped, taking in Buffy’s lack of clothes.

"You’ve been here?"

She looked over her shoulder at Spike lounging fully naked in the chair. He fluttered his fingers at her in a mocking little wave. Her eyes widened even further at seeing the erection he made no attempt to hide. She looked back at a wincing Buffy.

"You’ve been here - with him - the whole time?"

"It’s not what it looks like," Buffy said.

Spike sent Buffy a reproving look from behind Willow.

"It looks like you’ve been here having sex with Spike."

"Okay, then it is what it looks like, but - "

"Bloody right."

Buffy looked daggers at Spike. "But, I can explain."

"Yeah, explain how you threw yourself at me."

Willow shook her head and began inching towards the door. "No, no need to explain."

"It was the slime," Buffy said in a small voice.

Willow nodded vigorously. "Yeah, the demon. It caused all sorts of havocky stuff and, you know, you were… um…under the influence."

"Demon? What demon?" Spike looked from Buffy to Willow and back.

"And you can’t help it if it made you a little…um…"

"Crazy!" Buffy supplied. "Temporarily crazy and now it’s over."

"Would someone like to tell me what the bloody hell you’re talking about?"

Willow looked at him, then clapped a hand over her eyes. "Buffy got slimed by a Chaos demon and I so have to go now."

"A Chaos demon?" A disgusted look crossed his face.

"Yeah, but, hey, everything’s okay and I’m going now." She dropped her hand and hurried out of the crypt

"Willow, wait for me!" Buffy looked around frantically for something to wear. "I have to go."

"Buffy -"

"No, I shouldn't be here."

He rose and stood before her, willing her to look at him. "Why not?"

She avoided his eyes, stepping around him and grabbing her panties off the floor, quickly sliding them on. "Because ...because I just shouldn't. This was all a big mistake. Huge mistake. King of all mistakes in Mistakeland."

"And that's all it was?"

Her eyes lit on his coat and, without responding to his question, she lunged for it, throwing it on and rushing through the open door.

"Buffy!"

Spike, heedless of his naked state, tried to follow her, howling in pain and falling back into the crypt when the harsh afternoon sunlight seared him.

He got to his feet and shoved the door closed. He stood swaying in the middle of the crypt, feeling an emotional pain that far outweighed any physical pain caused by the sun. He looked heavenward.

"A Chaos demon! What the bloody hell is with my women and Chaos demons?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy winced when she heard Spike's cry of pain, but after one quick glance to see that he wasn’t in the sun bursting into flames, she knew he would be okay and kept running, hoping to catch up to Willow and explain...though how she could explain something she didn't understand herself, she had no idea.

She spied Willow leaving the cemetery at a brisk stride and she increased her pace.

"Willow! Wait up!"

Willow stopped walking and waited for her to approach, gingerly turning around to face her.

"Will, I was...I wasn't thinking straight. I mean, obviously, considering who I was with, warped thinking was at hand."

Willow looked at her. "Buffy, you don’t have to explain anything to me. Remember, I'm a lesbian whose last relationship was with a Werewolf? So not into the judgments."

"Relationship? Who said anything about a relationship? There's no relationship here, just...just..."

"Lots of sex?" Willow said with a small smile. Curiosity got the better of her and she asked, "What was it like?"

"It was..." A dreamy expression crossed Buffy's face for just a second until she gave herself a hard shake and muttered, "That stupid slime still hasn't worn off."

"It hasn't?" Willow considered that idea. "Buffy, did you sleep at all since you got here?"

"Yeah, for a few hours. Why?"

"It's just...from the research Giles did, the effects of the slime only last a few hours and then the person goes to sleep and poof! All gone, back to normal."

"Well, then, it affects Slayers differently than other people or - or maybe I got slimed with a higher dose of the stuff and it's taking longer to wear off. Or maybe this was a super Chaos Demon and his slime is stronger than others."

"Maybe," Willow agreed, but Buffy's eyes narrowed at the hint of doubt in her voice.

"Maybe? There's no other explanation. None. At all."

Buffy sliced the air with one stiff hand and marched away from Willow. Willow's eyebrows rose as she noticed that Buffy was wearing Spike's duster. She rushed to catch up with Buffy, peeking around her front to check whether or not Buffy had anything on under the coat.

"Buffy, where are your clothes?" Willow's eyes widened over a suddenly eager grin. "Ooh! Did he rip your clothes off in a fit of uncontrollable passion?"

"No." Buffy frowned fiercely at Willow and kept walking.

"I've always wanted someone to rip my clothes off in a fit of uncontrollable passion. The closest I ever got was one time with Oz a button fell off, but I think it was loose already."

"He did not rip my clothes off! We saved a girl from a demon last night and the demon wasn't very happy about it. My dress paid the price."

"Your dress? You wore a dress for him?"

"I didn’t wear it for him! I just felt like wearing a dress and ... and my mom gave me that dress and it deserved to be worn. And will you please stop making this into more than it is?"

Buffy stomped ahead until she realized that Willow wasn’t beside her. She turned back to see Willow looking decidedly uneasy.

"What?"

"Buffy, what are you going to tell the gang?"

*~*~*~*~*~*