Chapter Four

“Let’s see what we’ve got here.”  Spike said as he pushed the tape into the VCR/tv combo he’d found in the office.  Buffy was curled up in one of the sleeping bags, the sound of her breathing letting him know she was asleep.  He spent a few precious moments watching her, reliving the kiss that they had shared earlier.  He’d called himself every kind of fool for not taking what she was offering.  But Spike couldn’t stand to be used again.  He’d told her once, that day she had shown up at his crypt invisible, if he couldn’t have all of her, then he didn’t want any of her.  He just wished he’d been able to stick to it back then.  Things might’ve turned out differently for them.

Leaning back against the wall, Spike smoked his cigarette as the events unfolded on the screen.  He had a meeting the next night, and he wanted to have all the information he could.

The brunette Slayer stepped into a circular, steel cage.  The cage was surrounded by a well dressed crowd of people that were screaming for blood.  Faith flashed them a wide smile.  Turning in a circle, her arms extended out, she flipped them off.  Her lush, curvy body was encased in a white tank top, and a pair of dark leather pants.  Her wild mane of dark hair fell free around her shoulders.  Dropping her arms, she leaned against the side of the cage, waiting for her opponent to enter.

When the demon stepped through the gate opposite her, her expression of boredom never changed.  Spike didn’t recognize the breed it was.  It towered over the small woman. *Why were Slayers always so small?* Spike wondered.  It’s body was covered in heavy, armored plates, and spines about six inches long lined its back.  Two huge eyes dominated its skull like head.  An almost nonexistent nasal passage sat under those and atop two rubbery lips.  When it opened its mouth to roar, Spike got a good look at its two rows of razor like teeth.

Faith tapped a hand against her open mouth, feigning a yawn while the thing roared at her.  Apparently it didn’t like to be mocked, because it swung one massive hand at her.  Faith ducked effortlessly, and kicked out with her foot, smashing it into its knee.

“Slow bastard.”  Spike mumbled, as he watched it lumber around the cage.  Faith’s size and enhanced Slayer speed gave her a good advantage.  She dodged the demon easily, pounding it with her fists and feet.  She was careful to avoid the spines on its back.

Spike found himself enjoying watching her fight.  Almost as much as he liked to watch Buffy.  But whereas Buffy always felt her calling was a burden, Faith fought with a gleeful ferocity that rivaled most demons, including Spike.

“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Buffy asked, settling down next to him.  Spike had been so caught up in watching Faith cut down the demon, that he hadn’t heard her move.

“What’re you doing awake, Pet?’

“Dreams.” was all she said, as Faith dealt the death blow to her opponent.  Flipping off the crowd again, she tossed her hair and stalked out of the cage.  “She really loved slaying.  Got off on it.  I never really understood where she was coming from.”

“That’s because you always kept a tight reign on yourself.  Treated it like a job, instead of part of who you were.” Spike told her, dropping his burnt out cigarette into an empty soda can.

“I could never accept the dark.” She mumbled, watching the screen as Faith took out her second opponent.  It was a master vampire, that looked like a Nordic Prince.

“Seems I remember sayin’ something similar to you, luv.”  Buffy nodded, her eyes meeting his for a second before returning to the tv.  The Nordic vamp hadn’t been much trouble.  A couple of high kicks and a punch to the face stunned him enough for Faith to twist his head from his shoulders.  Faith dusted her hands off as the vampire debris floated around her.

“You were right.  But I was so afraid of getting lost.  Like Faith.  She had such a knack for this.  But she was so troubled.  I guess I didn’t make it any easier.  I guess none of us did.  She was so jealous of me.  My mom, my watcher, my friends.  Angel.” Tears misted Buffy’s eyes as she watched the next demon take an ax in its back.  Three matches down, seven more til Faith’s death.

“I wouldn’t have let you get lost, Buffy.” his voice was quiet, and he reached up to stroke a hand over her long, dark hair.

“I know that now.  It took me a long time to realize that.  I’m sorry.”  A tear slipped down her cheek as she looked at him.  His blue eyes searched her face before he let go of his tightly bound emotions and drew her into his arms.  He held her tight as she let the flood gates open and cried out all the pain she’d held bottled up since Willow tore her out of Heaven.

~ ~ ~

Buffy awoke several hours later, stiff from her curled up position against the wall.  The last thing she remembered, was being cradled in Spike’s arms as she cried.  She smiled slightly at the memory, then glanced around the room.  The tv was gone, and Spike was not around.  Glancing at her watch, she realized it was past four p.m.

“Spike?” she called, her voice rough from tears and sleep.

“Right here, Pet.”  Pushing the sleeping bag off, Buffy rose to her feet and walked towards the kitchenette.  Rubbing her eyes, she stepped into the room, and couldn’t suppress the chuckle that bubbled from her lips.

Spike was standing in front of the counter, a cup of blood in his left hand, the other braced against the counter.   He was barefoot and shirtless, his white hair trailing across his pale shoulders.  A beautiful sight to see, save for the menacing glare he was directing at the coffee pot.

The offending device was sputtering and hissing as if this pot of coffee was its last gift to the world.

At her chuckles, Spike turned his glare on her, then back to the pot.

“Why do these thing take so bloody long?” he grumbled, taking a drink from his mug.

“It’s a conspiracy?” she offered.  Stepping next to him in the small space, the machine gave one last sputtering hiss before falling silent.  “See, it’s done.”

“Finally.”  Spike reached into a cabinet and handed Buffy a mug, before pulling out another for himself.  Draining the blood in three long gulps, he rinsed out the cup while she poured them both coffee.  Buffy put sugar and cream in hers, while Spike pulled out a frozen breakfast for her.

“I’m not hungry.” she said, taking a sip of the hot brew.  He just raised his scarred eyebrow at her and pushed the time on the microwave.  Then he picked up his own coffee and started to drink.

“I have to go out for a while.” he told her.  Her eyes shot up to his, her brows drawn together in confusion.

“Why?”  Her heart started to thud in her chest as irrational fear slammed into her.

“Nothing like that.  I will be back.  I just have to take care of something I couldn’t get done last night.” He said, hearing her heart start to slow as she calmed.  Dropping her eyes, sheepishly, she nodded as the microwave dinged behind him.  He pulled out the meal, and set it on the table.

“Sit.  Eat.” was all he said, before pouring himself another cuppa and stalking out of the kitchen.  Buffy stuck her tongue out at his retreating back, but sat down and started to eat.

~ ~ ~

“Alright, luv.  Let’s see where you are physically.  Then we can figure out where to go from there.”  Spike said, settling into a fighting stance in front of her.  He had just returned from whatever mysterious errand he had to run, and was revved to get started.  Buffy nodded, mimicking his posture.  She was still wearing her sports bra and capri pants from the night before, but had taken the time to twist her hair into a thick braid.

Waving a hand, Spike indicated that he wanted her to attack first. He then proceeded to just block, not throwing any punches of his own.  She still had her Slayer strength.  Could feel it humming behind every punch and kick she threw at him.  But she was holding back.

“Come on, Slayer.  I’m not Captain Cardboard.  Let go.”  Breathing heavy, Buffy came at him again.  She still wasn’t putting everything behind her punches.

“What a pity.” he started, ducking under a kick.  “A washed up Slayer.  Suppose I ought to kill you now, and save those blokes at the tournament the trouble.  Wouldn’t be much of a challenge for them, anyway.  A waste of their time, really.”  That did it.  Buffy felt anger surge through her like only Spike could invoke.  As he went to block another punch, Buffy anticipated, feinted left and smashed her tiny fist into his nose.

Spike landed on the mats, one hand cupped over his bleeding nose. *Bloody hell!  Why is it always the fucking nose?*

Buffy was on him in a space of a heartbeat, straddling his waist, her fist pulled back.  Just as she was about to let it fly, a memory surged forward.  It was of another time she was in this position, in a dark, dirty alley.  Her fist flying in his face over and over, saying through clenched teeth “I’ll never be your girl.”

A cry ripped from her throat as she thought of how she’d left him, broken and bloody on the cold asphalt.

Buffy dropped her fist and crawled away from him.  Spike rolled up to a standing position, absently wiping the blood away with the back of his hand.

“Slayer?” He watched as she pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs and started to rock.  “Buffy?” He crouched in front of her, resting his forearms on his knees.  Her wide, hazel eyes met his questioning blue ones.

“I’m so sorry.” she whispered.

“For what?” he asked, confused.  She’d only been doing what he’d told her to do.  What did she have to be sorry for?

“For what I did in that alley.  For everything I said.”  Realization rushed through Spike as the memory of that night flooded back.

“Buffy.  I forgave you for that a long time ago.”  He told her quietly.  Buffy’s expression grew incredulous at his words.

“Why?”

“You know why.”

Buffy nodded slowly, because she did indeed know why.  “I’m not going to use you again.” she said, her words taking on several different meanings.

“I’m not going to let you.” he returned.  Holding a hand out to her, Spike stood, pulling her with him.  “Now, you still have your strength, and your form is still good.  But you need to stop pulling your punches.  I won’t break, and I won’t let you hurt me.  So let go of that, alright, Pet?”

“Okay.”

“Good.  Now, shall we dance, luv?” a slow, wicked smile spread across his features.  Buffy returned his smile, preparing to attack again.

“Absolutely.”

Chapter Five

Thing went smoothly over the next couple of weeks.  Spike was glad to see that she was just out of practice, and it didn’t take her long to get back into the swing of it.  Under his watchful eye, she gained ten pounds.  Not enough in his opinion, but enough to fill out the gauntness that had settled on her small frame.

They had slipped into their old banter, but now the barbs were exchanged without heat.  When they sparred, it held an edge of excitement that only came when the opponents were well matched.  Life started to spark back into her eyes, replacing the haunted look that has shadowed them.

Unfortunately, the dreams still came.  More often than not, Spike would be pulled out sleep to the sound of Buffy’s grief filled screams, her body thrashing wildly on the floor.  He would gather her trembling body up into his arms and whisper softly to her until she calmed, finally settling into a restful sleep.  Then he would lay down next to her, not touching, just near enough to reach out if needed.  Usually, when he awoke the next evening, she would be nestled close to him, a contented smile on her face.  It was a position he’d dreamed about, but she had never allowed.

He’d briefly considered just laying down next to her when they got ready to sleep, but he figured she wouldn’t go for it.  He always got up before she did, and they never talked about it.  He assumed she remembered nothing about the way she instinctively drew comfort from his presence while she slept.  So, as usual, he just took what he could get.

*What a Ponce I am.* Spike thought to himself, as he looked down at the sleeping Slayer.  Kneeling next to her, he put the coffee he was holding down so he could nudge her.

“Pet.” her eyes fluttered open, almost immediately.  Smiling at him, Buffy stretched, causing the material of her t-shirt to stretch taut against her breasts.  Spike’s mouth went dry at the sight of her erect nipples poking through the cotton.  Stifling a groan, he picked up the mug and held it out to her as she pushed herself on her elbow.

“Evenin’.” she mumbled, taking the mug from him and inhaling the rich scent of the coffee.

“Evening, Pet.  Hurry up and get it together.  This is our last night.”  Grimacing. Buffy sipped her coffee before sitting up.  Spike stood and went back into the kitchen to get her breakfast.

*Tomorrow.* she thought, sighing.  Tomorrow was when they would go to the boat, and hopefully be on step closer to saving Dawn.  Buffy hadn’t allowed herself to dwell on her fear for her sister, knowing that she was safe until the moment Buffy didn’t show up for the transport.  And since that wasn’t going to happen, there were no worries for the moment.  It was AFTER they got on the island, that things would get dicey.

Buffy stood, stretching again, then kicked her sleeping bag towards the wall next to Spike’s.  She smiled a little, asking herself who he thought he was fooling.  She was well aware of where he slept.  For the first time in years, Buffy wasn’t afraid to go to sleep.  She knew, that as soon as she closed her eyes, Willow’s accusing face would pop into her head.  She would see the shock in the red head’s eyes as Buffy let the killing blow fly.  But, she also knew, that when she woke up screaming, Spike would be there to make it fade away.  Like he would have been seven years ago if she hadn’t been so stupid.

Sighing heavily, she raised her mug to her lips.  It wasn’t that she wanted to forget her friends.  Far from it.  She just wished she could forgive herself, and be able to remember the happy times, without them being clouded by despair.  A small part of her realized that it was irrational for her to take the full blame for everything that had happened.  That first year after she had been brought back had been fraught with problems for all of them.

Her friends had brought her back to protect them and the world.  She had resented them so much for it.  And Spike.  All Spike had wanted to do was help her ease her pain. And she had used him.  Turned their tenuous friendship into something sick and twisted.  All because he wasn’t Angel.  Or Riley, even.

The thought of her one and only attempt at a ‘normal’ relationship, caused nausea to roll through her.  She’d found out later that Spike was telling the truth.  He had been doing a favor for a friend.  All to get money so she wouldn’t have to work at the DMP.  Buffy should have known that Spike didn’t really know how dangerous those eggs were.  His self preservation streak was strong, and he never would have left something so potentially harmful to his own well being in his bedroom, had he known.

And she had let Riley, with is clever words and sincere tone, make her feel even worse than she already did over what was happening with Spike.  She’d then gone and broken it off.  Making it all about her, and trying to ignore the pain in his eyes that seemed to have a direct connection to her heart.  Then she had walked out into the day, thinking that the bright sunshine had never looked so bleak.

Spike watched her form the door of the small kitchen.  She was deep in thought, not noticing his presence right away.  He was still amazed by the level of trust that she had for him now that was chipless again, than before, when he wasn’t.  Her general manner towards him had changed.  Gone were the scathing remarks about his undead status.  She hadn’t called him disgusting or evil once.  And if he had to lay his hands on her, she turned towards his touch instead of away from it.  Spike fought himself, daily, to keep from pulling her into his arms and showing her how much he still loved her.

“Pet?” he called, breaking into her revelry.

“Yeah?”

“Breakfast.” Buffy started towards him, her dark hair swinging behind her.  She’d left it down after her shower the night before, instead of twisting it into te braid that she usually wore.  Spike liked it this way better, tousled waves framing er face like she had just spent a night filled with pleasure.

She smiled shyly at him, pausing in front of him.  He looked down at her, his blue eyes questioning.  Raising up on her toes, Buffy brushed a kiss across his mouth, then she walked to the table and sat down.  Spike pressed his lips together, his eyes drifting closed.

*Bugger.* he thought, as he felt his body respond to the lingering tingle her warm lips had caused.  Running a shaky hand through his unbound, platinum hair, Spike turned and went to sit with her.

“Spike?”

“Yeah, luv.”  Spike leaned back in the chair and pulled out a cigarette.

“What have you been doing?  You know, since you left Sunnydale?”  Buffy asked quietly, pushing her food around on her plate.

“Eat, Buffy.” he ordered. As he contemplated his answer.  Tell her the truth, she probably wouldn’t believe him.  Lie, she’d see right through him.  Taking a deep breath, he decided to go for it.  Buffy ate obediently, waiting for his answer.  She got nervous the longer he hesitated.

“If you don’t want to tell me.  I’ll understand.” she shoved a fork full of food into her mouth, to cover the strangled sound of her voice.

“No, it’s not that. It’s kind of incredible, really.”  He looked at her face, her eyes interested.  “First couple a years I just kinda drifted around.  Took a bouncing job here and there to keep me in beers and smokes.  And blood.”  Her eye widened, but she didn’t interrupt.  She’d been sure that he would resume hunting once the chip was removed.  She’d come to terms with it years ago, knowing that if he had ever returned to her, she would welcome him back.  “Then, I showed up at Angel’s for a bit. And I do mean ‘bit’.  Ponce has gotten even more broody over the years.  Wasn’t there much more than a week.”  He blew out smoke, scowling at the end of his cigarette.

“Did you see Cordelia.” she asked, an edge to her voice.

“Don’t recall her being there.  Why?”  Buffy just shook her head.

“Angel didn’t try to stake you?”  A slow smile spread a cross his face.

“Nah.  He was actually kinda glad to see me.  Seems the wanker needed to work off some sexual tension.”  He didn’t tell her the rest, didn’t want to see the disbelief that her precious Angel could something so vile to him.

“Eeww.”  Buffy exclaimed, the fork stilled in the air as she stared at him.

“What?” he chuckled at her expression.  For a Slayer, she certainly was naive to vampire mating habits.  Then he turned serious.  “Don’t think yours was the first heart he broke.”  He said bitterly, dragging on his cigarette.

“Is that why you were so angry when you saw him in Sunnydale, that first time?” He nodded once, not really sure why he was admitting this to her, when he hadn’t really admitted it to himself.

“I’m sorry.”  Her voice was soft, a tear slipping down her cheek.  “Angel seems to be an expert at leaving.”  Spike looked surprised at her quiet comment.  “So.  What about after that?”

“Oh.  Well, one night, I’m sittin’ in this bar, gettin’ right pissed, and I meet this fella.  Rather unassuming type.  Tall, dark hair, kinda slight build.  Studious lookin’ with these wire rimmed glasses perched on his nose.”  Spike paused to crush out his cigarette.  “Don’t really know why, but we got to talkin’ about this and that.  Nothin’ serious, considering the state of my inebriation.  Then, out of nowhere, this bloke turns all serious like and asks if I’m a vampire.  Well, I wound up spitting my drink out all over the bartender, which you can guess got that wanker right ticked.”  He flashed her a smile when she chuckled.  “So’s he tells me to sod off.  I oblige, not really wantin’ to talk the other guy anymore.  But the tosser’s right behind me.  Well, I vamped out and jacked him against the wall, askin’ him if he was going to die happy now that he’d had his question answered.” He glanced at her then, to gage her reaction.  He saw curiosity and even amusement.  He wondered again about the changes in her.

“Anyway, I was sure he would pass out from fright, but he didn’t.  Oh yeah, he was tremblin’, but he keeps looking me in the eye and says he has a proposition for me.  I admit it, I was curious.  So I drop him back to his feet, but I stay vamped, just to keep him nervous.  He says he’s a writer, yada, yada, and he wants to interview me.  Well, right off I think this chaps’ been readin’ too many Anne Rice books.  So’s I tell him he’s no Christian Slater, and I’m no Brad Pitt, and I start to walk away.  But he just keeps talkin’.  Says he wants to take my stories and turn them into fiction.  Wants to be the next Stephen King, or some such nonsense.”

“You’re kidding?” Buffy had finished her meal, and had gotten her and Spike more coffee.

“Nope.  So, I figure ‘Why the hell not?’  I kinda liked the idea of my unlife goin’ down in writing.”

“It is in the Watcher’s journals.”  She reminded him.  Spike scowled at that.

“But those are just cold facts.  No emotion behind them.  I was just another vampire to them.  Still am, I guess.  Although, that one chit wrote her thesis on me.”  Spike smiled at the memory.  Buffy just rolled her eyes.  “Dawn had told me once, after I scared her right proper with one of my stories, I should write them down and make a fortune.  And here was my opportunity to do just that.  I don’t have the patience to do it myself.  And this guy seemed alright.  So, I agreed.  Had contracts drawn up and everything.  I have fake papers.” he said to her unasked question of how they could be legal when he didn’t actually exist.  “So, his face goes on the book jacket, and he gets stuck goin’ on the book tours.  And I get a nice, fat royalty check deposited into an offshore account.” he finished with a smile.

“What’s his name?’

“Well, the name on the books is a combination of mine and his.  William Stacey.”  Buffy’s eyes bugged comically.  Dawn had all of his books, and had been trying to get her to read one for years.  But Buffy had always said she’d lived it all, why should she read about it.

“Oh, wow.  That is incredible.”  Then, a thought struck her.  “Dawn knew, didn’t she?” her voice was slightly hurt.

Spike looked at her, then away, before nodding.

“You’ve contacted her.” it was a statement, accusatory.

“No.  She contacted me, through the publisher.  All I did was sign a book for her.  But she kept sendin’ me letters.”  Buffy didn’t know what to think.  She’d thought Dawn told her everything.  And she had been writing to Spike.  Knew how to contact him, and didn’t say a thing.  If they didn’t die during the tournament, Buffy was going to kill Dawn herself.

“What did she say?” Buffy asked, staring down at the table.

“Mostly about school.  Whoever she was dating.” he lit another cigarette.  “She’d tell me a little about you.”

“Like what?”

“Just that you’d gotten out of fast food hell and were training to be a paralegal.  And she might have mentioned that you don’t date.” he mumbled. *Of course she would*, Buffy thought. *She was trying to get you to come back!* Men could be so thick.  Alive or undead, not much changed in that area.

“Did you?  Date, that is?”  Buffy didn’t know why she’d asked.  She’d known the answer before the words had left her mouth.  Of course he had.  Spike wouldn’t stay alone for long.

“Some.” he admitted reluctantly, his mind drifting momentarily to Vanessa.

“Anyone special?” *That’s it Buffy, torture yourself REAL good.  As if seeing him with Anya in their own version of Sex, Lies and Videotape hadn’t been bad enough.

“No.” was all he said, raising the cigarette to his lips.  Relief flooded through her at his simple answer. *Pathetic, much?* she asked herself.

“So.  Why don’t you date?”

“Buffy and love aren’t mixy.” They always leave, she added silently.  And the only one she hadn’t blamed had been the blonde vampire sitting in front of her.  His fathomless blue eyes met her hazel ones, and they stared at each other for a long heated moment.  Spike looked away first, running a hand through his hair, then offered her a tight smile.

“Well, Pet.  I think we’ve had enough of total share mode.  Why don’t we get to work?”

“Yeah.”  Buffy gathered up her dishes and put them in the sink, then went to go change her clothes.

Spike stood, sighing as he watched her retreating back.  If he kept this up, he’d take the ‘Ultimate Brooder’ award away from Peaches in no time.

*What a Nancy boy you’ve become, Spikey.* he scoffed at himself.  He was just supposed to be helping her get Dawn back.  Not losing himself in her again.

Turning on his heel, Spike went to go take out his frustration on the punching bag.

Chapter Six

Buffy stepped through the door of the dojo in the final minutes before dawn.  Their earlier training session had been so wrought full of tension, that she’d felt the need to escape for awhile.  Luckily, Spike had apparently needed a break to, because he didn’t argue or insist on going with.

She walked over to the trash can and dropped her empty soda cup into it before shrugging out of her jacket.  Throwing it over the pommel horse, her mind was drawn back to the thoughts that had been plaguing her since she left.

Over the last few weeks, they had been drawing closer to each other.  Really getting to know each other in ways that they hadn’t before.  Is this how things could have been if she hadn’t freaked after that first kiss?  Every day, she learned more about him that made her love him more.  She knew he wasn’t unaffected by her, had caught him looking at her with that trace of longing in his face.  But did he still love her?  And would he, once she told him what happened in Sunnydale?  He knew that they were dead, but the only two people that knew the whole truth about what happened were her and Angel.  And Angel hated her now.  What if the same happened with Spike?

Buffy sighed and scrubbed her hands over her eyes.  So many questions with no answers.  The only thing she knew for a certainty was what she felt for the blonde vampire.  She knew that there was a real possibility that she would die during the tournament.   And this time it would be forever.  No more ‘get out of death free cards’ for her.  She would finally be done with this earth.  But did she want to waste whatever time she had left letting Spike hold her at arms length?  She’d wasted so much time with him already.  Could she waste the possible final few weeks of her life, not letting him know how much she loved him?. How much she had always loved him?  She knew she didn’t deserve his love in return, but didn’t she owe him, at least that much?

Buffy shook her aching head, moaning.  It seemed that one question just spurred another one into forming.   She needed to make a decision, and she needed to do it now.  Before any more time slipped away.

“Carpe diem.”  She whispered to herself, as she turned towards the sound of running water.  Walking slowly over to the bathroom door, she placed her hand flat against it, her heart thudding in her chest.  It wasn’t closed all the way, and thin wisps of steam escaped through the gap.  Bolstering her courage, Buffy pushed the door open and stepped inside.  Biting her lip to keep from moaning, she let her hungry eyes roam over the naked perfection in front of her.

Spike was standing under the spray furthest away from the door.  The hot water cascaded through his platinum hair, and down the sleek lines of his back.  Buffy watched it’s progression down his muscular frame, her eyes lingering on the firm shape of his buttocks, then further down to his corded thighs and calves.

Sweat had broken out on her skin, and she knew that it was more because of the man in front of her, than the hot moisture in the air.  Her breathing picked up and her heart triple timed in her chest, her mind willing him to turn around.

As if hearing her silent plea, he did just that.  His eyes were closed as he faced her, and his bottom lip was captured between his teeth, a look of pleasure twisting his features.  Her eyes roamed eagerly over the rigid muscle of his chest and abdomen, a gasp escaping her throat as she saw what he was doing.

Spike’s eyes snapped open at the sound, but he didn’t stop. Buffy watched with fascination as he stroked himself.  She felt her body respond to the sight of his long fingered hand, working over the thick shaft, the heat starting in her center and spreading rapidly through her body.  Her panties became soaked and her core throbbed in time to each pass his hand made over his pulsating cock.

Buffy’s mouth became as dry as dust when his stokes became faster.  With a growl, Spike threw his head back, his whole body tense as he came, thick streams of white falling to the blue tiled floor.

Her eyes found his as his hand fell away from his quickly softening shaft.  His eyes were unreadable as he looked at her.  Reaching behind him, he turned the water off with a snap, then grabbed a towel.  Wrapping it around his waist, he ran a hand through his hair, and started towards her.

“Enjoy the show, pet.” he asked his jaw clenched, His voice was harsh, his accent thick.  Swallowing heavily, Buffy nodded.   His eyes burned her as they raked over her body.  Her skin was flushed, tendrils of chocolate colored hair curling around her face from the steam in the room.  Her blood was rushing through her veins, her breathing coming in short pants.  Spike felt himself harden again at the hungry look in her eyes.  Groaning, he reached out and fisted a hand into the material of her shirt.  Hauling her against him, he cursed for never being able to keep a promise to himself when it came to her.  Telling the voice in his head to sod off, Spike crushed his mouth against the Slayer’s, his tongue sweeping past her parted lips and into the sweetness of her mouth.

Her fingers streaked up the slick flesh of his arms to bury themselves into his wet hair.  His arms snaked around her waist, pulling her tighter against him.  Her legs immediately wrapped around his waist, pushing herself closer.  Spike began to walk, tearing his mouth away from hers so he wouldn’t fall.  Buffy peppered kisses along his throat and jaw until her teeth captured the lobe of his ear, making him hiss.

Once they were back in the training room, he pried her away from him and pulled one of the sleeping bags out and spread it open on the floor.  He turned in time to catch the now naked Slayer in his arms.  Her mouth slid hungrily over his as he turned them and laid her down on the makeshift bed.  His towel was whisked away and they both moaned at the familiar feel of each other.

Spike pushed a knee between hers and settled between her spread thighs.  Soft mewling sounds emitted from her throat and her hips began to gyrate, begging him silently to take her.

He broke the kiss to raise himself up.  Staring into her eyes, he pushed his length deep into her throbbing core.

“Oh, god. Spike.”  She practically sobbed, as his cock stretched and filled her.  He growled, deep in his chest as her inner muscles clenched around him.  His demonic face rippled forward as he struggled for control.  Nobody had this much of an effect over him.

“Fuck.” he gasped as he began to thrust.  Her hips rose to meet his with wild abandon.  A tidal wave was building inside of Buffy with each surge of his hips.  Her nails scraped restlessly across his flesh, causing him to growl.

Spike felt his own orgasm fast approaching and he buried his face in her throat, his strokes becoming harder and faster.  Grazing a fang across her throat, he lapped at the blood he’d raised.  Her head fell to the side, exposing the flesh to him, a silent entreaty for him to take what he wanted.  His growl filled the air as he sank his fangs into her.  Buffy came with a shriek of his name, her hand fisting in his hair, holding him to her.

Spike pushed up on his toes, burying himself as deep as he could, his cold seed shooting into her womb.  Her warm, sweet blood flowed over his tongue, making him tremble with the impact of her gift.  Closing his eyes, he retracted his fangs and raised his head to meet her eyes.  Purposefully keeping his true face forward, his gold orbs searched her for any sign of disgust.  A smile spread across her face as she stared up onto his demonic visage.  Her blood stained his lips, but instead of sickness, Buffy felt a pleasant tingle at being taken so completely by him.

She traced her fingertips across his ridges gently, and leaned up to kiss him, tasting her blood as she did so.  When she pulled back, she looked into his startled blue eyes.

“Buffy. . .” she shut him up with another kiss, her tongue gliding over his.  She felt him harden again within her, and she slowly started to rock her hips.  Spike broke the kiss and pulled out of her at the same time, chuckling at her cry of dismay.  “I think we can take a little longer, this time, luv.”  His husky voice sent shivers down her spine, and she ran her tongue over her bottom lip in anticipation.

Spike’s eyes stayed locked with hers, his left hand lightly skimming up her side.  She hissed in pleasure when his cool fingers traced around the soft globe of her breast.  Her eyes drifted shut when his thumb flicked over her hardened nipple.

“Look at me, Buffy.” he commanded.  Her eyes snapped open, her back arching into his touch.

“Please, Spike.” Buffy moaned.  Shockwaves coursed though her as his thumb and forefinger pinched a teased the nubbin.

“What, Pet?  Please, what?”

“Your mouth.  I. . .need. . .your mouth.” she begged, her nails biting into the palms of her hands.

“Where?” he continued the torture on her breast, relishing the desire glazed look in her eyes.

“Everywhere.” she whispered, bringing her hands up to bury her fingers into his still damp hair. He flashed her a wolfish grin before replacing his clever fingers with his mouth.  Buffy let out a long moan of pleasure as his cool tongue laved her nipple.  The fingers teased her other hard nub, sending twin bolts of electricity straight to her core.  The smell of her arousal wafted around him, causing him to moan against her flesh.  Buffy writhed against him, gasping when she felt a fang graze the soft flesh of her breast.  Lapping the precious fluid, Spike savored the rich sweetness that was making him dizzy with need.  Swiping his tongue on last time over the gash, he then blazed a trail of cold fire across her skin to mimic his actions on her other breast.

His hand danced down her body, brushing against the soft curls at the apex of her thighs.  Her hips surged forward, begging him to touch.  His chuckle vibrated against her skin, causing another wave of arousal to crash through her.  She huffed softly in disappointment when his lips left her breast, only to hiss when his tongue slid slowly across her stomach, his teeth nipping lightly at her abdomen.

Spike laid on his stomach between her splayed thighs, breathing deep the aroma of their mixed scents.  Buffy arched off the floor as he slipped one, then two long fingers into her.  He thrust his fingers in and out, getting them slick with their combined juices as she trembled under his ministrations.

She threw her head back in ecstasy, her eyes squeezed shut.  Spike paused, and his low, guttural voice demanded she look at him.  He waited until her eyes locked with his before continuing his sweet torture.  He thrust a few more times, angling his fingers to press against her sensitive inner spot.  Then he slipped one out of her.  Her eyes grew wide when she felt that same finger start to push into her other tight hole.  Her body tensed in surprise.

“Relax, baby.” he whispered, his blunt teeth grazing her inner thigh.  He pushed the rest of the way in, then began to finger fuck her, his strokes slow.  A strangled moan escaped her as the sensations of being filled in two places caused all rational thought to take a hike.  Her hips bucked into his hand, wanting him to thrust harder.  Her hands had traveled up to her breasts, her fingers pinching and rolling her nipples.

“Oh God.  Spike, oh god, oh god.”  The pressure was building at an incredible rate, and when she felt his cool tongue slide over her clit, she screamed as her climax crashed through her.  Her juices coated his hand, as he continued to pump his fingers into her ass and cunt.  He buried his tongue into her folds, lapping hungrily at the nectar pooled there.  When she tried to pull away because the feelings were too intense, he yanked her back against his demanding mouth, quickly and ruthlessly bringing her to another orgasm.  He dragged it out until she collapsed into a quivering mass of nerve endings.

Spike pulled his hand away from her and crawled up her sweat slicked body.  He crashed his mouth against hers, as he sank his aching cock into her still fluttering heat.  Buffy greedily sucked at his tongue, tasting herself.

He slammed viciously against her, his pelvis hitting her already ravaged clit again and again.  She met him thrust for thrust, her nails scratching gouges in his back.  His game face slid forward at the pain induced pleasure, and he sank his fangs and cock deep within her flesh.  Tears fell from her eyes as she toppled over the edge for the third time, his hard length pulsing his cold seed into the depths of her heat.  They lay, shaking in each others’ arms for what seemed like hours, Spike retracting his fangs and running his tongue through the blood on her neck.

Sleep called to Buffy as she snuggled into his strong embrace, her fingers stroking through his long hair.  Nuzzling her cheek against his, she whispered softly.

“I love you, Spike.”  And then she drifted into slumber .  Spike’s eyes snapped open at her soft confession, and he studied her sleeping face with a mixture of elation and anger.  What game was she playing?  Did she actually mean it, or was this some odd form of gratitude?

Slipping out of her warmth, he laid on his side next to her, his mind a torrent of anguish and confusion.  He didn’t want to think that what had just happened was nothing more that a thank you on her part.  Even with her declaration of love, he was having a hard time believing it was anything more than that.  Staring intently at her satisfied features, he made a vow to himself to find out, once and for all.