It had been overcast all day but even so, the soaking rain caught
Buffy by surprise.  Standing in the recessed doorway of an old sealed-
up mausoleum, she shivered violently as the wind blew the icy rain in
on her.  She was torn between waiting for a break in the rain and
just sucking it up and making a run for home.  The only problem with
that plan was that she was wearing her favorite suede jacket.  It
would surely get ruined in the rain.

Spike stalked through the cemetery head down cursing the rain that
plastered his hair against his head and ran in rivulets into his
eyes.  He almost missed seeing the small form huddled in the doorway
of the Anderson crypt.  Stopping, he smirked as he watched a shiver
rack the Slayer's body. 

"Now there's a pathetic sight."

"Drop dead, Spike.  Oh wait, you already are dead."

"Yeah, which means the cold doesn't bother me.  Unlike some Slayers I
could name.  Night a bit dampish for you, pet?"

"Go away, Spike, before I decide to warm myself up by kicking your
ass."

Instead of walking away, Spike moved even closer.  "Looking a little
blue there, Slayer.  Maybe if I hang around long enough you'll freeze
to death.  Not as good as killing you myself, but watching you die
slowly has its merits."

Buffy just glared at him as another shiver tore through her body. 
Sighing inwardly she came to a conclusion.  The rain wasn't going to
let up anytime soon and neither was Spike.  Pushing away from the
door, she stepped out into the drenching downpour, pushed past Spike
and turned in the direction of her home.  When Spike fell in step
beside her, she glared at him and snapped, "What the hell do you
think you're doing now, Spike."

"Walking home, Slayer."

For the first time, Buffy realized that she was indeed in Spike's
cemetery.  "Well walk home some other way.  Just get away from me."

Her words may have had more bite if it weren't for the fact that her
mascara was running and she was blinking her eyes rapidly trying to
clear her vision.  Spike grinned at the picture she presented.  Long
blond hair hanging in sodden clumps around her face, eyes black from
running mascara, stylish boots covered in mud and grass clippings,
pant legs soaked through. 

But when she shivered again and her teeth chattered, Spike stopped
smiling.  "You need to get out of this rain, Slayer, before you catch
pneumonia."

"Brilliant observation, Spike.  That's why I going home."

"My place is closer," he said as nonchalantly as he could.

"What?"

"My place.  It's closer.  You could hole up there until the rain
stops."

"Yeah, like it's so much better to hang around in a damp musty crypt
instead of going to my nice warm house."

Spike shrugged.  "Up to you, but I do have blankets you could wrap up
in and at least it'd be out of the rain.  You'll be another twenty
minutes at least before you get home."

"Why are you offering me shelter and blankets?" Buffy asked
suspiciously.

"Look," Spike said casually, "I'm just trying to do you a favor.  You
want to get out of the rain at my place, fine.  You don't, that's
fine too.  No skin off my nose either way."

As fate would have it, the wind blew a little harder just at that
moment sending more of the freezing rain into Buffy's face and down
the back of her neck.  She gasped at the driving force of the
downpour as another fierce shiver coursed through her.  Making up her
mind, she headed towards Spike's crypt.  It was fortunate for Spike
that she didn't see the triumphant gleam in his eye.

***

Buffy stood in the middle of Spike's bedroom dripping and shivering
as he rummaged through a chest finally pulling out a thick, fluffy
blanket.  Throwing it towards her he said, "Here, get your clothes
off and wrap up in this.  I'll get you a towel."

"I'm not taking my clothes off, Spike," Buffy exclaimed.

"Look, you stupid bint, that blanket won't do a bloody bit of good as
long as you're in those sodden wet clothes.  Take 'em off so I can
hang 'em up to dry.  Your virtue's safe with me, Summers."

Buffy looked at him suspiciously but finally said, "Fine.  Get out of
here and don't come back till I call."

Nodding, Spike walked out of the chamber and headed towards the small
area he'd fixed up as a bathroom of sorts.  Removing his own wet
clothes, he grabbed a towel and began to dry off.  When he heard
Buffy call, he wrapped the damp towel around his waist, grabbed a
fresh towel and headed back to his bedchamber. 

She was still standing in the middle of the room, but now she was
wrapped in the blanket, small bare feet sticking out from the
bottom.  Spike swallowed when he saw her clothes draped over the
chest.  He was so busy trying not to stare at her that he didn't
notice that she was staring at him.

"Uh, I brought you a towel to dry your hair, Buffy," he said a little
huskily.

She made no move to take the towel.  Tilting his head to the left a
little he asked, "Don't you want to dry your hair?"

"Where are your clothes?" she asked in a husky whisper.

"Oh," he said looking down at himself.  "I was soaked through too. 
Thought I'd dry off."

Buffy admonished herself to take her eyes from his body, to turn her
head, to look away from him.  It didn't work.  She continued to stare.

God, he was beautiful.  She'd been aware on a subliminal level that
he was handsome and sexy, in an annoying sort of way.  But she told
herself on a regular basis that she felt nothing towards him but
disdain.  Certainly not desire.  She did not desire Spike.  And she
absolutely did not remember enjoying the kisses and caresses they'd
shared when under Willow's "My Will Be Done" spell.  She told herself
this time and again so she knew that it was true.  He was a vampire,
her mortal enemy.  And the fact that he was now standing before her
nearly naked revealing a body compact and muscular did not change the
fact that she positively did *not* want him.

Spike's breath caught in his throat when he scented her awakening
desire.  Walking towards her slowly so as not to startle her, he
draped the towel over her head and began to gently rub her hair.

"We need to get you all dried off, luv," he told her in a soft
voice.  "Don't want you catching cold now, do we?  Can't have
Sunnydale's guardian brought low by a germ."

Buffy closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of his fingers massaging
her scalp through the thickness of the towel.  His richly timbered
voice soothed her, the scent of his rain-washed body enticed her.
Without conscious thought, she leaned towards him.

When Buffy parted her lips and began to pant slightly, the towel
wrapped around Spike's waist tented.  Knowing that he would probably
end up getting staked for his temerity, he lowered his head and
brushed his lips across hers.

Buffy's eyes flew open.  Staring into his bright blue eyes she
gasped, "What do you think you're doing, Spike?"

"Givin' into temptation, pet."  Quirking a crooked smile he added,
"'I can resist everything except temptation.'"

"I thought you said my virtue was safe with you," she whispered.

"I lied," he growled as he brushed another kiss against her lips, his
eyes capturing and holding her gaze.

Buffy's inner voice was screaming at her to step back, slug him or
stake him, or... or something.  She shouldn't allow him to get away
with kissing her.  They weren't under a spell.  And she shouldn't
kiss him back.  It was wrong.  She needed to leave.  Now.

Instead her gaze drifted from his eyes to his lips.  Staring at them
she fully understood temptation.  The fullness of his lower lip
called for her to take it between her teeth and bite gently, to bring
it into her mouth and suck.  She wanted to circle his lips with her
tongue, to invade his mouth and claim it as her own.  She wasn't even
aware of leaning forward until their mouths joined together. 

Spike dropped the towel he'd been using to dry her hair and wrapped
his arms around her back, bringing her body flush up against his. 
They kissed ravenously until Buffy drew back suddenly.  Both gasping
for breath, they stared at each other. 

Spike groaned loudly when she opened the blanket and slid her hands
around his shoulders pressing her nearly nude body against Spike's,
wrapping them both in the blanket's warmth.  The kiss became wild as
they tried to devour each other.  Spike's erection pressed wantonly
against Buffy's tight flat belly.  His hands slid down her back to
her bottom, pressing her even more firmly into him.  When the kiss
broke, his mouth went to her neck.  Buffy immediately moved her head
aside to give him greater access.  The thought that he was a vampire
never even crossed her mind.  She thought only "want" and "need"
and "must have". 

Spike tasted the sweetness of her neck, smelled the blood flowing
beneath the thin layer of skin, felt the rapid pulse pounding under
his lips.  But he never thought "feed" or "bite" only "want" and
"need" and "must have".

Buffy moved her hands from his shoulders to his hair losing hold of
the blanket as she did so.  The blanket pooled around their feet and
Buffy shivered slightly as the cool air of the crypt hit her exposed
flesh.  Spike felt the tremor and pulling back he looked at her with
desire darkened eyes.  "We need to get you under the covers, luv."

"Yes, please, Spike," Buffy moaned, "under the covers."

Spike bent his knees slightly and scooped Buffy up in his arms. 
Walking quickly to his bed, he set her down long enough to pull back
the covers and then picked her up and placed her gently down in the
center of his bed.  Stopping only long enough to tear the towel from
his hips, he followed her into the bed and pulled the covers over
them both.  Pulling her into his arms, he half covered her with his
body as he joined his mouth to hers in another searing kiss.

Buffy pulled him tightly to her, one leg wrapping itself around his
legs as she pressed her hips tight against his erection.  She had
never felt this level of desire before, never this all-consuming need
to join with another.  She wanted him in her now. 

Spike had never felt anything like this before.  He was being
consumed by the heat of desire.  He wanted nothing more than to sink
into her body, to join with her.  He wanted to be inside her now.

Reaching behind Buffy's back, he unclasped the hooks of her bra. 
Pulling it off her arms, he flung it away even as he lowered his
mouth to take one small breast into his mouth.  Buffy cried out and
arched her back pushing herself even closer to him.  Spike sucked and
licked at the swelling nipple loving the whimpers and moans he was
eliciting from her.  As he nibbled and sucked at one breast, his
fingers pinched and teased at the nipple of the other.  Switching his
mouth to the other breast, he moved to cover her completely with his
body settling between her thighs, sliding his cock against the smooth
fabric of her panties.

Buffy wrapped both legs around his back, thrusting up to rub against
him.  The crotch of her panties was soaking wet now and she could no
longer stand to have them on.  Lowering her legs, she reached down
with one hand and began to shove at the waistband trying to push the
offending garment from her body. 

Spike realized what she was doing and raising his head from her
breast he panted, "Let me, Buffy."  Kissing his way down her body, he
hooked his fingers in the waistband and slowly drew the panties down
and off her legs.  They sailed across the room to join the bra.  Once
they were gone, Spike pressed Buffy's legs apart, opened the lips of
her sopping wet sex, lowered his head and licked. 

Buffy almost came right then and there.  Grabbing handfuls of his
hair, she pressed his face tightly to her while he eagerly rubbed his
stiffened tongue all over and around her clit.  When he began to
shove his sharply pointed tongue in and out of her opening, Buffy had
had enough teasing.  Yanking hard on his head, she pulled him up to
her.  "God, Spike, now.  Please, now."

She didn't have to ask twice.  Grabbing her head, he kissed her
fiercely and then lowering his hands, he grabbed her hips to position
her to receive him.  Unerringly finding her opening, he began to push
slowly into her fiery heat.  He'd known it'd be amazing.  He just
hadn't known how amazing the feel of her would be.  They gazed
wonderingly into each other eyes as he claimed her.  Her tightness
enveloped him.  His length and breadth filled her.  When he was fully
seated in her, he stopped, closing his eyes and lowering his forehead
to hers bringing himself under control.  He wanted this to last, but
the way he was now feeling he wouldn't last two strokes.

Buffy's hands were roaming up and down his back, her fingernails
scraping against the smooth skin.  Her legs were wrapped around his
waist and she was moving her hips, mindless in her need.  God, he
wasn't even moving yet and she was ready to climax.  She needed to
climax.  If she didn't get relief soon, she was afraid she would turn
into a howling insane beast. 

She gasped in surprise when Spike suddenly grabbed her legs and
placed them over his shoulders.  Rearing up on his arms, he began to
move within her.  Pulling out and then shoving in, at first the
strokes were slow, seeming to take forever to complete.  The position
he had Buffy in did not allow her to move so that he had complete
control over the pace.  However, Buffy was a Slayer and she was not
completely without resources.  She began to clench and then relax her
inner muscles.  Spike groaned with each contraction and started to
move faster within her. 

Letting her legs slip from his shoulders, he grabbed her head again
and began kissing her feverishly.  Buffy slid her fingers into his
hair as they kissed.  Her legs wrapped tightly around him as she
thrust in time with him.  Their bodies slammed together with a
bruising force.  The mattress squeaked in protest and the bed
literally bounced off the floor from the force of their mating.  And
when they came, their cries echoed throughout the crypt.

Spike collapsed bonelessly on top of Buffy.  Her legs slid weakly
from his back to lay limply on the backs of his calves.  Neither
moved nor spoke for several minutes as they recovered.  When at last
Spike could gather up the strength to move, he raised himself
slightly to look at Buffy.  He half feared what he'd see when he
looked into her eyes.  Shock?  Anger?  Disgust?  He was sure it
wouldn't be anything good.  Now that the passion was spent, she would
probably hate herself for succumbing to the desire that Spike had
long sensed was there.

What he saw surprised him.

Buffy gazed back at him with an almost feline look of contentment. 
"Well," was all she said.

Spike smiled at her.  "Well, indeed."  Leaning down, he brushed a
soft kiss across her lips.  "You all right, Buffy?"

Buffy laughed slightly and then caught her breath at the sensation it
caused from where they were still joined.  Spike could hardly believe
his eyes when he saw hers darken in renewed desire.  He hardened
immediately and began to slowly thrust.  Buffy closed her eyes and
arched into him.  Spike was amazed he was making love to her again so
soon.  Just minutes ago he'd been as spent as he'd ever been in his
life.  But one look from his Slayer and he found the strength to
begin again. 

It wasn't wild and fierce like the first time.  It was something
different and much, much scarier.  They never took their eyes off
each other as passion built and when they came this time, it wasn't
with a scream but a sigh.  And when Spike lowered his body to rest on
Buffy's, she held him closely to her as if afraid that he'd disappear.

Lifting his head from the crook of her neck, he said, "Buffy..."

Buffy placed a finger on his lips.  "Shhhh, please, Spike, don't say
anything.  Not yet."

"We're going to need to talk about this, pet."

Buffy shook her head, a half-smile on her lips.  "You are the
talkiest man I've ever met, Spike.  Can't we just be in the moment
for a little bit longer?"

Her eyes widened slightly as she felt him harden within her once
again.  "Oh, we can be in the moment for hours yet, luv," he growled
as he again claimed her lips as he moved within her once more.

This time, instead of wrapping her arms and legs around him, Buffy
twisted until Spike was on his back and Buffy was straddled over
him.  Leaning forward, she placed her hands on either side of his
chest and began to move in a slow sensuous manner, her face just
inches above his.  Spike marveled at the look of complete sexual
pleasure she had on her face as she labored over him.  It was his
turn to hold her closely when she collapsed on top of him after
bringing them both to yet another climax.  He'd never known such
contentment.

Spike hadn't cared much about the weather since being turned.  Hot or
cold, dry or wet, it really mattered little to him. But after
tonight, after what the rain had given him, he knew he'd wish it
would rain every night.

End