Buffy tossed and turned, images from the last two years flashing behind closed eyelids. Angel, her savior, fighting the Three. Kissing her that first time, when she discovered who and what he really was. Words and phrases drifted in and out, the images coming faster and faster.

"You think I want anything to happen to you? Do you think I could stand it?"

"When you kiss me, I want to die."

"Do you love me?" *Angel's eyes are so dark* "Do you?" *I'm drowning in his eyes*

"You shouldn't have to touch me when I'm like this..."

"I love you, I try not to, but I can't stop..." Her heart pounding- "M-me too, I can't either..."

"Just kiss me..." His bare skin on hers- *He feels so good, so incredibly good, I never knew...*

"Dream on, schoolgirl-" *Angel?*

"Your boyfriend's dead."

"Some part of you must remember..."

"Dream on...your boyfriend's dead..." The words echoed, Angel's face becoming Angelus- hating her, wanting her, wanting to rip her to pieces. She saw the holy water destroying his face, the look in his eyes before he exploded into dust..."ANGEL!"

The scream reverberated in the bedroom as her body lurched upward, coming out of the nightmare. Buffy's heart pounded in her chest and she brought her hands up to feel to feel it thudding beneath her skin as she tried to calm her breathing. *Damn it!* The tears trickled down her face. There seemed to be a neverending supply of them lately.

She desperately tried to stop the tremors racking her body. *Think of something else, anything else...* Spike. He hadn't shown last night- was that the reason for the nightmare? It was beyond twisted, using a demon to keep the bogeyman away. But she hadn't dreamt the two nights before, the nights spent with him. *Wonder where he was?* It didn't matter, she didn't care; they weren't dating, they weren't even a couple. Buffy didn't know what they were. They just...were.

A glance at the clock told her that it was time to get up for school. School, what a joke. She didn't know how she was going to pass, Snyder was always on her case, and now she'd have to look at Xander in all his joyful glory. *He must be on cloud nine, knowing that Angel's dead.*

Calmer now, Buffy forced herself out of bed and got ready for school. Her mother had already left for the gallery, needing to unpack the stuff that she had collected on her trip. Sometimes it bothered Buffy when her mother wasn't around, but this morning she was grateful that she didn't have to face her. Last night had been bad enough, trying to act as if everything was hunky-dory. Buffy choked down her breakfast and headed to the library, the nightmare still resonating inside her head.

The morning passed slowly. Training before school with Giles in the library, then the dreaded French class, followed by Algebra. She dozed off in Social Studies- earning her a reprimand, then headed to the cafeteria to meet the gang for lunch. Xander and Cordy were bickering as usual, and Willow and Oz were dopily staring into each other's eyes. *Fifth wheel, once again.*

"Hey guys, what's up?" She tried to look nonchalant and had the feeling that she failed miserably.

"Buffster! How ya doin'? Cordy hates me today, I criticized her driving again." Xander always babbled when he was nervous. He was trying to avoid looking too satisfied about Angel.

"Xander, you said I drove like I was on monkey crack. What the hell is monkey crack? Besides, you got here in one piece, didn't you?"

"Barely, thank you very much. And I'm sure that old man you almost ran down is grateful, too. Who needs Kevorkian with you on the road?"

Buffy just tuned them out. She didn't have the strength to deal with them today.

"Hey Buffy, are you feeling better today?" Willow and Oz looked at her expectantly. They didn't really want bad vibes ruining their rainbow glow, but it was Buffy and they worried about her.

"Yeah, Will, a little bit. I'm still not sleeping well, but I guess it'll just take some time. Thanks for yesterday, I really needed to talk." Buffy didn't know what else to say. She still felt disoriented from the dream and Spike's not showing was bothering her more than she wanted to admit.

Willow just smiled her sweet, dreamy smile and turned back to Oz, lacing her fingers with his. "Wanna go to the Bronze tonight? It might take your mind off of things." Oz was twining a strand of her hair around his finger, oblivious to everything else.

"Uh-uh, not tonight. Maybe later this week, after I catch up on some schoolwork. Mom's back, so I'd better buckle down and study."

A voice broke into their little group, causing everyone to jump. "Summers! I hear you're taking naps in class again. My office, ten minutes." Snyder turned and marched off in search of other people to harass.

"Oh great, just what I need. Listen, I'll see you guys in the library after school. If I'm not suspended first." She jumped up and ran out of the cafeteria, needing a few minutes alone before facing the Nazi.

********

Giles stood in the library, looking over his cache of weapons. Buffy would be arriving soon and he wanted to try something different. She needed to train harder, take advantage of Angel being gone to hone her skills. You never knew what you were going to face at any given time. Older, more powerful vampires could decide to take up residence in Sunnydale. More powerful like Spike.

It galled Giles that he hadn't thought of Spike before. In all of the confusion of Angel and Drusilla's demise, Giles had completely forgotten that Spike still wandered the streets. He could be out for revenge, looking to make Buffy suffer for taking his Sire and his woman away from him. Who knew what kind of trouble he would stir up? The Parent/Teacher Night debacle, the Order of Taraka, and the Judge had all been bad enough, and Spike hadn't needed a motive on those occasions.

Giles reached down and pulled out the tonfas. As he ran his hand along the wood, Ripper appeared behind his eyes, smirking as Giles remembered a run-in with some bobbies twenty years ago. They had tried to beat him with their batons and had ended up on the receiving end themselves. He had no idea how he had stayed out of prison for 'that' little stunt. His father had almost killed him and the Watcher's Council had nearly had a collective heart attack. Giles breathed a sigh of relief that those days were behind him.

His thoughts turned to Buffy and a worried frown creased his forehead. She'd hardly spoken to him since Saturday and this morning her mind had obviously been elsewhere. There were dark circles under her eyes and she had been petulant one minute and near tears the next. Angel's death was more disturbing to her than she wanted to admit; he couldn't imagine what kind of dreams she was having. He wished more than anything that she'd never met Angel, never had to suffer as she was now.

He knew what she was going through; he couldn't close his eyes without seeing Jenny as he'd found her- neck broken, staring sightlessly at his bedroom ceiling. He sighed in frustration, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he heard the doors open behind him.

"Yo, G-Man! What's up?" Xander called as he bounded into the library, hopped up on God-only-knew-how-many candy bars and twinkies.

"Xander, I've asked you not to call me that." Giles wasn't in the mood for Xander's foolishness. The boy constantly put his teeth on edge.

"Sorry, man. Isn't Buffy here yet? She got called into Snyder's office again. You think he's on the up and up, or is he really a perv who likes to dominate nubile young girls?"

"Xander, don't you have somewhere that you need to be? Isn't Cordelia looking for you?"

Now Giles was worried about Buffy being in Snyder's office. That pompous little troll wouldn't need much of an excuse to expel her. Giles couldn't fathom why Snyder disliked Buffy so much, but he was determined to find out before the man caused them any more trouble.

"Nope, I'm totally free and at your disposal. Watcha got there?" Xander picked up one of the tonfas. "Hel-lo, police brutality. You should sharpen the ends, then they could be multi-purpose batons. Whack 'em over the head and stake 'em, wham, bam, thank you, ma'am!"

Giles' head began to pound from the onslaught that was Xander. Suddenly serious, Xander turned toward him, something dark and unnameable gleaming in his eyes.

"So Giles, before Buffy gets here, tell me...how jazzed are you that she finally wasted that asshole?" A cruel and predatory look crossed Xander's face, a look that hadn't been seen since he was possessed by the hyena.

For a brief moment, Giles was reminded of himself as Ripper at that age. He was saved from answering by the entrance of Buffy and Willow, who were closely followed by Cordelia and Oz. *Ah, finally. Now I can try to get to the bottom of Buffy's melancholia.* He smiled warmly at the group, relieved to have a buffer between him and Xander.

"Hey Giles, what kind of fun do you have planned for today? I'm in the mood for some violence."

*Ah yes, the cranky Slayer is back. She always wants to hit something when she's upset.* Giles suppressed the urge to shove Xander in front of Buffy in order to give her something to pummel. *Christ, Ripper, you're supposed to be the mature one around here!*

"Buffy, I wanted to talk to you about something. I can't believe I didn't think of it before."

She looked at him expectantly, wondering what doom and gloom he had for her this time.

"Spike."

Her eyes widened, and her heart began to pound. *He can't possibly know. There's no way that anyone knows about us.* "Spike? What do you mean? What about him?" *Stay calm, Summers, let him finish.*

Giles didn't notice her discomfort; he was busy glaring at Xander, who was waving a sword around yelling, "You killed my father, prepare to die!" Giles turned back to her and tried to return to the subject at hand.

"Where was I? Oh yes, Spike. You killed his Sire 'and' his lover, Buffy. He's got to be considered more dangerous than ever before. He'll be looking for you, wanting revenge. We should take precautions, start reading up on him. He's known to be quite vicious and you've seen what kind of fighter he is." Giles was in full worry mode, pacing and running his fingers through his hair.

Buffy closed her eyes and let out the breath that she'd been holding. She quickly tried to think of something to calm Giles regarding Spike, something that wouldn't arouse his suspicion. Struggling to sound unconcerned, she told Giles the first thing that came to mind. "I don't think we have to worry about Spike, Giles."

He spun around and looked at her, his eyes searching her face for some indication of what she was thinking. "What do you mean? Is there something you haven't told me?" He wondered if she had killed Spike also, but couldn't think of a reason why she wouldn't have told him.

"NO! No, of course not. It's just that I don't think that Spike is as broken up about Angel and Drusilla as you think he is." She looked away, twirling her hair, trying not to feel ashamed for lying again.

"I don't understand. Vampires are supposed to be loyal to their Sire. And Drusilla and Spike 'were' together for a very long time."

Buffy sighed at his denseness and filled him in. "Spike and Drusilla 'were' together, yes. And then Angelus came back. Two men, one woman...geez Giles, you do the math. I told you what Angel said, about him and Drusilla. Maybe Spike is glad that they're gone. Maybe he was tired of being humiliated." She walked over and picked up one of the tonfas, spinning it around with lightning speed.

Giles was stunned. He'd never thought about the possibility that Angel had driven Spike and Drusilla apart. That would definitely work in their favor, if it were really true. Still, he supposed that one couldn't be too careful. He decided to research Spike, try to find everything ever recorded about him.

Giles glanced over at Buffy, sensing her withdrawal. She was practicing with one of the batons, immersing herself in the freedom of movement, her face a complete mask. He shook his head and went to find some of the Watcher diaries, determined to look into Spike's past.

******

Buffy walked through the streets of Sunnydale, patrolling again. Normally, she liked the walking, because it gave her time to think. Not tonight, though.

Tonight she wanted to shut everything out, slay something automatically, like a well-oiled machine. She didn't want to think about Angel or Spike or Giles or Xander or any other stupid, fucking thing. *Great, now Spike's colorful speech is starting to rub off on me.* Buffy wandered down an alley near the hospital, her mind suddenly filled with images of her demon lover.

Spike. No sign of him again tonight. She tried to tell herself that it didn't matter, that it was only sex and nothing more. He'd never said that he'd see her last night or tonight. He could have skipped town for all she knew. The thought of never seeing him again sent a stabbing pain through her heart. *No! I'm not falling for another vampire...I just used him, used him to forget about Angel!* The voice in her head was shrill, almost hysterical with denial. *We never even talked much, we only screwed each other. It was incredible sex, that's all. Not a relationship, for God's sake. He was probably out draining half of the population last night. Maybe he's already found a vampire girlfriend to take Drusilla's place.*

Buffy angrily swiped at the tear rolling down her cheek. She was so furious with herself for even thinking about him. And Giles! How much longer was she going to be able to act normal around him? She wasn't doing such a bang-up job as it was. If Spike had left town, it would certainly make her life easier. Easier was good. A Slayer didn't get very many breaks in her life. She should be grateful.

*Ha! The only thing you'd be grateful for is if Spike came along right now and fucked you 'til sunup.* She shook her head at her own foolishness. *A distracted Slayer is a dead Slayer, Summers. Get your mind back on your work.*

A sound behind her caught her off guard. She whirled around to see a vampire grinning evilly as he came toward her. Buffy grabbed hold of her stake and went into her ready stance. Her whole body went perfectly still, a calm settling over her as she prepared to take him on. She was itching for a fight and she planned to hurt him before she finally turned him into dust.

The vampire rushed at her, his claws reaching for her throat. She easily stepped aside and spun around, catching him in the face with a well timed kick. Buffy threw several backhand punches, not giving him a chance to recover. Somehow, he managed to take hold of her shirt and throw her to the ground.

As he was leaning over her, she kicked him in the head and rolled away, grabbing a broken shovel that was laying on the ground. In one fluid motion, she sprang up and swung the shovel with all of her strength, striking the vampire in the back. He crumpled to his knees and Buffy began beating him over the head, crushing his skull.

As she brought the heavy tool down on the unfortunate creature, all of her anger rushed to the surface, creating a red haze that blinded her. Angel, Spike, Xander, Giles- they all ran through her mind as she rained blow after blow on the body beneath her. The guilt, the fear, the rage- everything that had happened in the last few days- all bubbled over into a mindless act of violence. Incoherent sounds came from her throat as the sweat poured down the sides of her body.

As suddenly as it had come upon her, the haze lifted and the shovel slipped from her numb fingers. She stared in horror at the mess on the ground, unable to believe that she had done something like that. The vampire's head was gone, reduced to pulp, and his arms lay in odd angles from the rest of the body.

She dropped to her knees as the sobs burst forth from deep in her chest, her slender frame racked by uncontrollable tremors. It was like a dam bursting, all of the pent up emotion flooding out into the alley around her. She stayed like that for what seemed like hours, until she was completely spent.

Forcing herself to her feet, she retrieved her stake and turned back to her victim. The body had started twitching, trying to regenerate itself. Her face completely blank, Buffy slammed the stake into its chest, putting it out of its misery.

Physically drained and emotionally depleted, she headed for home as a cold chill began to creep down her spine. For the first time in her life, she was more afraid of the monster within- that dark part of herself- than of any demon the Hellmouth could throw at her. She wondered if anything would ever be the same again.

Spike squealed into the mansion driveway, yanked his keys out of the ignition and stormed into the house. He grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels from the bar in the dining room and went upstairs without saying a word.

Slamming the door to his room, he unscrewed the cap and took a huge swallow, enjoying the burning sensation as the alcohol slid down his throat. He planned on staying in tonight and getting good and pissed. *Angel wasn't the only one who knew how to fucking brood, I can brood with the best of them.*

Spike chugged half the bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Maybe if he got drunk enough, he wouldn't have to think about last night, with Lara. *What a fucking waste! So beautiful, so strong, so fucking perfect! Too fucking perfect.*

It had never bothered him to kill anyone before, why was it bothering him now? He'd had to do it, had no choice. *Admit it, you killed Lara to keep her from mucking things up with the Slayer. You knew she'd be a complication.* He drank some more, trying to drown that fucking annoying voice in the back of his head. The past twenty-four hours continued to flash through his mind, making him wish that he had a whole case of booze on hand.

He'd woken up a few hours ago feeling shitty- bloated from overindulgence, head pounding from the drugs. The figure beside him lay motionless and for a brief moment he'd thought that she would open her eyes, until he remembered that he'd taken that option away from her. Spike had stumbled into her bathroom to wash off her blood and juices, then dressed and left the apartment as quickly as he could.

Taking another swallow, he began pacing agitatedly, trying to forget about Lara and her maternal warmth. There'd never been anyone to take care of him in the past, it had always been him taking care of his drunken mother, him taking care of Drusilla. Not that either one of them had ever appreciated it. He could have lost himself in Lara and that spooked him. He didn't like for anyone to have that much control over him.

When he'd finally gotten to the club, Darius had mouthed off about being abandoned the night before, earning a backhand across the face for his trouble. They'd all been mercifully silent after that, not wanting to piss him off any further. A thought occurred to him and he yanked open his door.

"M-A-R-K!" His voice echoed off the stone walls, carrying to the first floor. He heard footsteps pounding up the stairs *That's it, pissant, you'd better fucking run when I call.*

Mark appeared at his door, looking a bit anxious. "Yeah Spike, what is it?"

"Go out and get me something to eat- nothing under the age of thirteen. And bring me more to drink while you're at it." Spike had never liked killing children... no sport in it. Angel and Drusilla had actually preferred the blood of the innocent, the younger the better. To him it seemed sick, somehow; it was probably the one thing he didn't have the stomach for. Mark ran back down the stairs, relieved at the simple request.

Spike drained the rest of the bottle and tossed it into the corner, stalking around the room like a caged animal. He wasn't drunk yet, nowhere near the oblivion he wished for. Things just kept getting worse, instead of better.

He'd tried to put some distance between him and the Slayer and look where it got him. Brooding like Saint Angel just because he killed someone. Big fucking deal! He was a vampire, people died, that's just the way it was. The way it had always been for nearly two hundred years. And the Slayer still plagued his thoughts, distance had only made...well not the heart, certainly, but definitely his cock grow fonder. Or harder, rather. *Things are definitely fucked up around here, shagging the Slayer instead of trying to kill her...what kind of moron am I?*

A knock at the door snapped him out of his reverie. He opened it to find Mark standing there, a bottle of J.D. in one hand and a body slung over his shoulder. Spike motioned him inside, snatching the bottle out of his hand as he passed by.

"I'll call you when I'm done eating. Tell the others I don't want to be disturbed."

Mark dumped the body and fled back downstairs, leaving Spike alone with his dinner, an unconcious sixteen year old boy. He opened the second bottle of Jack, and sat down to wait for his meal to wake up, thinking that at least there'd be a struggle this time.

*******

Buffy was in a foul mood, stomping her way around school like a woman possessed. The Slayerettes had already gotten a taste of just how pissed off at the world she was when Buffy had proclaimed to everyone within hearing distance that Xander's hostility toward Angel was due, not to jealousy over her, but to latent homosexual feelings for the vampire. Xander had turned white and then red, finally running off like the coward that Cordelia professed him to be. The rest of the Scooby Gang had proceeded to make themselves scarce, having decided that they would rather not be next on her shit list. She felt only a brief pang of remorse for her treatment of Xander. It was soon replaced by a huge feeling of satisfaction for putting him in his place, once and for all.

Her victims continued to pile up as the day wore on. Poor Jonathan accidently bumped into her in the cafeteria and ended up wearing his lunch, making her a hero in the eyes of his usual group of tormentors. Later on, as Buffy was passing by the boy's locker room after gym, Larry chose to accost her, making snide comments about getting into her pants. She had whirled around, catching his throat in her hand and slamming him up against the lockers.

"Not the day to mess with me, Larry. Do you want the football team to know just how tough you really are?"

He'd shaken his head, eyes wide with shock and fear. She then released her grip and walked away without another word, wondering if she would have any friends left at the end of the day. *I'm becoming psychotic- last night with that vampire, and now today with Xander and Larry and Jonathan. Giles is going to have me committed.*

She had gone home last night to find her mother waiting, wanting to have one of her little 'talks'. Buffy had suffered through it, not even remembering what was said, before stumbling upstairs and collapsing on the bed in a heap. Her dreams had been filled with images of the headless vampire stalking her; of Spike, laughing about her to his cronies; of Angel, blaming her for Angelus, calling her a whore. She figured she had gotten about five minutes worth of sleep, hence the totally evil attitude today.

Not hearing from Spike for the second night in a row hadn't helped matters. She couldn't understand it; she had gone a lot longer than two days without seeing Angel in the past and she had never been this upset. Was she turning into some kind of nympho? Was she totally demented? Did having sex with Angel and Spike automatically make you a member of Drusilla's Club for Raving Lunatics? *Tune in tomorrow for the answers to these questions and more on the Buffy Summers Psycho Show...* She headed for the library, determined to forget about Spike, Angel and the rest of her problems.

Giles was ready for training, all padded up and weapon happy. He pompously told Buffy that he could take whatever she dished out, then spent the next ten minutes trying to take back his foolishly spoken words. Buffy hammered him with her staff until his padding hung in tatters around his middle aged body. In desperation, he called a halt to training and sent her home, telling her to take the night off and get some rest.

As she left the library, Giles called himself every kind of idiot for goading her into almost killing him. Something had to be done about her; she was becoming a loose cannon, with all of this pent up anger. Perhaps a good night's sleep would make some difference. *That's right Rupert, delude yourself until she snaps completely.* Rubbing his sore muscles, he headed for the phone, needing to talk to an old friend and gain some much needed perspective on the whole situation.

*********

Buffy went home, tired from whipping Giles' ass, still feeling completely off kilter. She blew her mother off, claiming that she was coming down with something and headed straight for the bathroom to take a shower.

The bathroom filled with steam as she set the water as hot as her skin could stand. The tension drained from her body as the hot water pounded against tender flesh, turning it bright pink. It was the closest to self-flagellation that she could get; punishment for her behavior last night and today at school, for her complete wantonness with Spike...for missing him after only two days. Buffy turned off the water just in time, before her skin had a chance to blister. *It'll heal in a few hours anyway.* Wrapping a towel around herself, she went to her room, intending to stay there until morning.

Once in her room, she rummaged through her cds, finally settling on Jann Arden. Popping the disc into the stereo, she pushed play and began getting ready for bed. As she slipped her chemise over her head, she realized it was the same one she had been wearing when Spike had come to her room, asking for help. *Less than two weeks since this whole thing started. God it feels like a lifetime ago.* The song on the stereo penetrated her thoughts, the words almost taunting her.

There's dirt in my mouth
from kissing who I should not dare
There's mud coming out
with every rip and every tear
This thing beneath my ribs
will beat me to the ground

Whenever she was in Giles' presence, she had the feeling that he could tell what she had been up to. As if Spike had left handprints all over her body, for the whole world to see. It was ridiculous, she knew, but it made her feel dirty, like she was betraying Giles by sleeping with the vampire. Buffy scooped up Mr. Gordo and curled up in a ball on the bed.

My guilty skin like gasoline
is burning out a hole in me
My guilty heart
lies here in ruin, in ruin
Nobody knows me,
no one will ever see
The distance between
what is and what will never be

She felt isolated by the deception. Where once she would have told Willow everything- giggling together over Angel kissage- she was now denied the chance to reveal any aspect of her relationship with Spike. She wished that she could share with Willow how he made her feel, talk to someone about her confusion. She had no idea how to deal with her feelings, no idea if she even 'should' be having these feelings. *Face it, Summers- Spike isn't exactly picket fence material. I mean, where is this thing going to go, anyway?*

Was there even a thing to be worrying about? He could have split for good, left Sunnydale far behind. There was nothing to hold him here. Drusilla was gone and he had told her his opinion of the other vampires in town. Why would he stay when there was a whole world out there?

Buffy slid between her sheets and pulled the covers over her head, trying to ignore the ache in her chest, trying not to wish for a pair of strong arms to hold her. She closed her eyes and prayed for sleep...endless, dreamless sleep.

A bird will break his wings
Like a heart will cut her strings
And there isn't anything to comfort me

********

Spike sauntered up Revello Drive, each step bringing him closer to the Slayer, closer to some sort of absolution. He'd known when he had woken up that he couldn't stay away any longer. She was the only one who could make him forget Lara, forget Drusilla, forget the whole fucking mess. His hangover had faded to a dull roar and he was positive that she could banish it completely with her warm body and soft kisses.

He walked across her front lawn and saw that her mother's Cherokee was parked in the driveway. *Fuck it, I'm going in. If she's not home then I'll just wait until she gets here.*

Spike climbed up the tree and slipped inside the room, his night vision easily picking out the sleeping figure in the bed. The moonlight spilling through the window glinted on her golden hair splayed across the pillow. He smiled and crossed the room to lock the door, pulling off his clothes at the same

Spike froze as a whimper sounded from the bed. Buffy rolled over and called out his name, still asleep. He went to her, sliding under the covers, fitting himself spoon fashion against her back. "I'm here, baby."

Still in the throes of some dream, she continued to speak, almost sobbing. "Why, Spike? Why does it have to be you?"

Spike put his arms around her and held her tight. "Shh, baby, it's all right." He was good at this, had done it a million times with Drusilla, when her visions had scared her.

Buffy gradually became aware of the body behind her, the strong arms holding her. She recognized his scent and the tension drained away, making her relax against him. He felt so good, made her feel safe again. She was struck by the irony of it, that the source of her greatest turmoil was also her greatest comfort. *It doesn't matter...he's here, he didn't leave.*

Spike kissed the back of her neck, slipping the strap of her nightgown off her shoulder. A feather-light caress trailed down her arm to her hip, his hand sliding her nightgown to her waist before coming up to cup her breast. Buffy arched her back as she felt his thumb rubbing her nipple, a sigh of pleasure escaping her lips. He continued kissing her neck and shoulder, swirling his tongue in intricate patterns. His touch was light, gentle- like a blind person reading braille. He'd never touched her like this before, with such tenderness.

Spike loved the feel of her- her body warm from sleep, skin so soft, softer than anything he'd ever felt in two hundred years of existence. He buried his face in her hair, catching the faint scent of raspberries as his hand drifted down toward her moist center. His hand slid into her panties, thrusting one finger deep inside her as Buffy moaned and shifted slightly, to allow him better access.

His hard cock rubbed against the silk covered globes of her ass, teasing him unmercifully. Spike added another finger to the one thrusting in and out of her cunt. She was already so wet; it amazed him how she always seemed ready, always welcomed him so eagerly. His thumb rubbed against her clitoris, slowly, tortuously, as her hips rocked back and forth.

"Spike?" She was whimpering with pleasure this time, twisting the sheets in her hands and almost ripping them.

"Please, Spike...I want you inside me, I need you..."

She helped him slide her panties off and parted her legs, feeling him enter her slowly, inch by inch. Buffy gasped as he filled her. *Oh God, so cold, he feels so good...* She arched back, her head against his shoulder, taking him deep inside her.

"Christ!" Spike gritted his teeth, willing himself not to come as her walls tightened around him. He began moving slowly, sliding his hand down again to caress her swollen clit. A low hum sounded from deep in Buffy's throat as she moved with him...gently, lazily, both wanting to prolong the intense pleasure building within them. Buffy reached down and laced her fingers with his, pressing his hand against her aching flesh.

Spike fastened his lips to the nape of her neck, licking and sucking as he began to move faster, her soft round buttocks pushing against his hard stomach muscles. The friction was incredible- so tight, her heat surrounding him, bringing a growling purr from deep inside his chest. He couldn't tell where he ended and she began; they were one single entity, melting into each other with every blinding thrust.

"Oh God, Spike!" She was trying to be quiet but he made it so difficult, his gloriously hard cock plunging in and out of her with ever increasing speed. His other hand slipped around her, finding her nipple and tugging, sending a jolt straight to her womb. She started coming, softly calling his name and bucking against him as wave after wave crashed over her.

Spike moved his hand up to her mouth to muffle her cries and she bit him hard, drawing blood. As he felt her teeth break the skin, his cock surged inside her, sending jets of cold semen into her depths. It seemed to go on and on, the both of them shaking and gasping, their bodies slick with sweat.

*God, that was fucking incredible...* The unspoken thought echoed in both of their heads as they lay there in stunned silence, waiting for the aftershocks to cease. Spike let his hand move lazily over Buffy's skin, feeling pride at the tremors running through her body. A ragged breath escaped him as he brushed his lips against the base of her throat, feeling at peace for the first time since coming to Sunnydale.

He couldn't kid himself any longer- this wasn't just meaningless sex, not by a long shot. He'd just made love to the Slayer, held nothing back. *Stake me right now, because I am bloody well fucked. Fucked right into the abyss.* Spike could feel himself falling, and nothing was going to be able to save him.

Buffy felt his arms tighten around her, their hands still clasped together. She leaned her head back against his shoulder as he softly kissed her neck, too overcome by emotion to speak. She knew that they'd just crossed some invisible line, tumbled into forbidden territory. The blinders were off and she could finally admit that her feelings for him were more than physical. He had a firm grasp on her heart and it scared her to death.

"Did you miss me, luv?" She heard the catch in his voice, knew what he was really asking.

"No," she answered, pressing herself against him to hold him inside her, not wanting to let go.

Spike chuckled and rubbed his head against hers, closing his eyes as he breathed in the scent of her skin, her sweat, her desire. "I didn't miss you either."

Their demons momentarily banished, they drifted off to sleep, still tightly joined together, wishing that the dawn would never come.

Buffy awoke at 2 am to find Spike's head between her thighs, licking away the remains of their lovemaking.

"Spike? Wha-aaaahhhh!" She grabbed the pillow and held it over her face, trying to muffle the squeals that were flying from her lips.

Spike raised his head, a wicked grin lighting up his face. "Sorry luv, couldn't sleep."

She pulled the pillow away and stared at him with raised eyebrows. Still holding her gaze, he ran his tongue around her folds and over her clitoris, flicking it back and forth in a maddeningly slow tease.

"Ooh, don't...let..me-eee!...get in...the way...of...of your...insomni-aaahh!" Buffy slammed the pillow back over her face as he fastened his mouth over her clit and sucked hard.

Spike slid two fingers into her tight channel, hitting her G-spot as he alternated licking and sucking the tender nub. Her hips bucked wildly off the bed, thrusting into his face, drenching him with her juices. *So good, oh my god, he's so fucking good!* Her whole body shook as she careened toward her orgasm, biting the pillow in desperation.

Spike's other hand held her down, his cock growing increasingly harder as he listened to the muffled shrieks coming from underneath the pillow. Her strong thighs locked around his head, trapping him, making him grateful that he didn't need to breathe. Licking eagerly at the wetness flowing over his hand, Spike rubbed himself against the sheets in rhythmic movements, anxious to be back inside her again. He didn't know which was better- the taste of her blood, or the taste of her cunt. *I wasn't lying...bloody Christ, she tastes so fucking sweet...could stay here forever...*

Buffy's muscles tightened as she exploded in ecstasy, clamping down on his fingers in pulsing spasms. He heard a tearing sound as her teeth ripped through the pillowcase, then nothing at all as her thighs closed on his ears. She shuddered several times then relaxed, tossing the damaged pillow to the floor.

Spike looked up at her red, sweaty face, her heaving chest, and smiled. Giving her dripping pussy one more tortuous lick, he crept up her body until they were face to face, his hardness pressed between them. Buffy smiled up at him, a little dazed, running her hands over his arms and down his back, tracing the corded muscles with her fingertips.

"That was definitely better than my alarm clock."

Spike leaned down and kissed her deeply- thoroughly, rubbing his tongue against hers, letting her taste the fluid clinging to his lips. Her hands came up to slide through his hair, holding his head to hers as she licked her own juices from his mouth. Spike groaned, unable to control himself any longer, and entered her with one swift thrust, driving his cock as far as it would go.

Buffy's eyes flew open and a low moan sounded in her throat as she felt him slam against her still sensitive clit, the friction almost painful. He felt bigger somehow, stretching her...filling her to completion, making her whole again.

Eyes the color of storm clouds stared back at her, burning with intensity...and something else that she was afraid to indentify. Bracing himself on his arms, Spike began to move in long even strokes, his gaze never leaving her face. Feeling totally exposed and vulnerable, Buffy tried desperately to look away, to close her eyes before he saw too much.

"NO!" he hissed, "I want you looking at me when I'm fucking you, I want you to see ME, not him!"

The pain in his face and voice startled her. She hadn't realized that he felt that way, that he thought she was using him as a substitute for Angel. Angel didn't even cross her mind when Spike touched her. She lifted a hand to his face, tracing the scar and the sharp cheekbones, rubbing her thumb across his beautiful lips.

"I never think of Angel when I'm with you Spike. You're the only one I see, the only one I feel..."

As her soft spoken words registered, he began thrusting frantically and a sharp cry of pleasure echoed from her lips. He covered her mouth with his to muffle the sound, letting her swallow his own growls of lust as he drove into her wildly, almost out of control.

Her senses reeling, Buffy clung to him desperately; fingernails digging into his back, heels locked behind his thighs as she arched up to meet him, urging him to fuck her harder, faster. She couldn't believe that he was going to make her come again so soon, couldn't believe how easily he did this to her. The bed shook as Spike pounded into her unmercifully, setting her whole body on fire with every stroke of his huge cock. She said a silent prayer of thanks that the mattress and frame were new; no creaking bedsprings to alert her mother.

Spike was out of his mind with the need for release, totally consumed by her, scorched by her heat. It was like trying to catch a glimpse of the sun- pain and pleasure combined in a single perfect moment. He looked down at her flushed face, her swollen lips, her eyes that were glowing with uncontrolled passion and a feral grin crossed his face as a voice whispered "MINE, all mine," in the back of his head.

As their gaze locked, they felt an electric current charging the air, dancing over their skin, building the pressure inside them. Buffy bared her throat to him, offering them both release. Grinding his pelvis down hard on her clit, Spike sank his fangs into her neck, moaning as her blood flowed over his tongue.

They both came together in a blinding explosion- fire and ice, heaven and hell- bodies slamming together in violent shudders, every muscle straining with effort. Buffy whimpered as his tongue licked and sucked, making her orgasm seem like a neverending assault on her senses.

"S-o-o good, Spike...aahh, you're so, so good," she sighed, contentedly, as her hands came up to grip his hair.

Spike forced himself to stop drinking, licking the wound to heal it faster. Her skin was vibrating against his as tremors shook their breathless, sweat-soaked bodies. Brushing her hair back from her face, Spike gazed down at Buffy in wonderment and fear. *What the fuck have I done? I just signed my own death warrant.*

He kissed her again, feeling her respond with the same desperation, trying drive away reality, forget that they were vampire and Slayer. Spike broke off the kiss and rolled onto his back, bringing her with him, tucked under his arm.

Buffy curled up next to him, her head on his chest, listening to the temporary heartbeat thudding beneath the skin. Her hand drifted across his stomach, playing with the downy hair that reached from his navel to his groin, as mixed emotions warred within her. *What's going to happen to us? How long can we keep this up? I don't know what I'll do if Giles finds out.* She didn't want to think about it now, she just wanted to feel his cool skin pressed against her fevered flesh and pretend that nothing else mattered.

Spike combed his fingers through her silky hair, feeling her blood rush through his veins, her hand on his stomach sending shivers down his spine. His own emotions were a jumbled mess- confusion, satisfaction and a growing trepidation in competition with the most dangerous of all, lo- no, he couldn't say it, not even to himself. He'd only loved one person in two hundred years, and she'd betrayed him, thrown it back in his face. This was the Slayer, he couldn't love her, it was impossible. *Bloody hell, this is my worst fuck up yet.*

His arms tightened possessively around her, shoving everything from his tortured mind except the memory of their lovemaking- the most incredible sex he'd ever had. He'd never come so violently before, had never fucked anyone that hard. A thought occurred to him and he cleared his throat. "Um, pet?"

"Hmmm?"

"Just how fucking oblivious 'is' your mum, anyway? I mean, we probably woke the dead, just now."

Buffy sighed, not really wanting to think about her mother at the moment. "Her room is at the far end of the hall and she always sleeps like she's comatose, especially after a few drinks."

Spike blinked in surprise, memories of his own mother surfacing. "Yours too? Not much fun to deal with, is it luv? I guess that explains how you're able to sneak out all the time."

Buffy shrugged, then looked up as what he said penetrated. "Your mother drank? A lot?" She was a little thrown by the connection between them, and by the fact that he'd volunteered something from his human past.

"Yes, 'a lot'. Looks like we're not so different after all, are we pet?" He continued stroking her hair, for the first time realizing just how alone she really was. She had her Watcher and her friends, but they weren't family, they weren't the ones you came home to every night. How stupid could her mother be, to not know about the slaying? He mentally shook his head at the sheer idiocy of the woman.

"You should get some sleep, luv. You have school in a little while. And I should leave soon." The regret in his voice was plain, but it didn't soothe her. She didn't want him to go, didn't want to have to go to school and face everyone.

"Spike? What are we going to do?" Her voice was muffled against his chest.

He sighed and brushed his lips against her hair, trying to prepare himself to go back to the mansion. "I don't know, Slayer. There isn't a whole lot we 'can' do anyway, now...is there? Our only choices are to stay away from each other...or keep on doing what we're doing."

"I don't want to stay away. I don't think I can."

The whisper was so soft, he might not have heard it if he'd been human. It killed her to admit it, but she knew deep down that he felt the same way. She pressed closer to him, eyes closing against her will as exhaustion took over.

Spike listened to her even breathing, thinking that he was either very fortunate or the most doomed vampire in existence. He closed his eyes and waited for the dawn.

Spike slipped from the Slayer's bed an hour before sunrise, not wanting to leave, but having no choice. He threw on his clothes haphazardly, searching frantically for his underwear before remembering that he hadn't been wearing any. Walking over to the bed, he looked down at his sleeping beauty, sprawled across the bed in all her naked glory. He pulled the covers up over Buffy, trailing kisses up her back and over her shoulder.

She stirred and blinked up at him. "Spike?"

"I have to go luv; it's almost dawn."

"Nooo," she protested sleepily, her small hand reaching out for him. Buffy tugged him down next to her, placing his hand on her breast before slipping hers up his t-shirt to glide across his stomach.

"You're not playing fair, luv," Spike growled as he brought his mouth down on hers, kissing her roughly, thumb teasing her nipple. He couldn't stop touching her, couldn't stop wanting her. He wondered how long it would be before the whole thing killed him. Or her.

Buffy's hand tangled in his hair as she deepened the kiss, pouring everything she was feeling into it, everything she couldn't say. *I need you, don't leave, stay here and love me...* The words were better left unsaid; it was too dangerous to go there. *Don't think, just feel...*

With a groan of frustration, Spike pulled away, running a shaky hand through his hair. He really had to get going. If they started up again, he'd never leave, and he didn't fancy spending all day in the house with her mum around. *Just say goodbye already, mate!*

"I'll see you later, all right?" He gave her a quick kiss and disappeared, leaving a chill in the air with his absence.

Buffy rolled over, burrowing deep into the covers, thinking how strange it was that she missed him already and wondering how she was ever going to come to terms with their relationship.

*******

Spike jumped to the ground, landing with catlike grace before loping off down the street toward home. He felt powerful- able to take on an entire death squad of vampires, and a couple of demon bounty hunters, as well. All of his senses were zinging, heightened by the Slayer's blood and the phenomenal sex. He could hear people stirring in their beds, smell their blood and sweat...almost see their dreams, even. *Her blood is such powerful stuff...I could bloody well get addicted.* He laughed out loud. *Fuck me, I'm already Betty Ford bound as it is. Hooked on Slayer pussy...wouldn't that be a good topic for group therapy?* Spike shook his head. *Vampires and their addictions...on the next Jerry Springer.*

Approaching the cemetery, he quickened his pace, recalling how the Slayer had bared her neck for him. He still couldn't believe she had done it- the trust that she'd shown him, or that he'd had the willpower to keep from killing her.

The taste of her blood, combined with the taste of her juices in his mouth, had made him come with an intensity he'd never experienced before. Just thinking about it gave him an erection and a burst of energy that couldn't be contained. He gave in to it; sprinting through the cemetery, jumping on and over gravestones, singing AC/DC, loudly and offkey.

"SHE WAS A FAST MA-CHINE, SHE KEPT HER MO-TOR CLEAN..." Grabbing a light pole, he swung around like a drunken Gene Kelly, still slightly wasted from the feeding. He loved to sing, but he rarely got the chance, what with having to be tough and in control all the time. AC/DC had always been one of his favorites; they had a song for every occasion.

"TA-KING MORE THAN HER SHARE, HAD ME FIGHTING FOR AIR..." The cemetery whirled around him as he banged his head like Angus Young in a continuous motion, hard enough to cause brain damage in anyone not already dead.

"SHE TOLD ME TO COME, BUT I WAS AL-READY THERE!" In the back of his mind, he wondered what the others would say if they saw him now. Fuck them, he didn't care, he had some time before sunrise and he was having fun, something that had been in short supply, lately.

"CAUSE THE WALLS START SHA-KING, THE EARTH WAS QUA-KING..." He hopped up on a gravestone, one-footed, arms flailing as he tried to balance himself.

"MY MIND WAS A-CHING, AND WE WERE MA-KING IT..." His singing trailed off as he looked down at the fresh grave below him. It was covered with flowers, roses of every color that had just been placed there that very day. An idea formed and he glanced at the sky, figuring he just had time for one more stop before the sun came up.

Hopping down, he picked through the flowers until he found one that was a deep magenta- perfectly formed, with a delicate, almost fruity fragrance. He grinned, pleased with his find, then turned and ran off in the opposite direction from the mansion, his scratchy voice echoing in the deserted graveyard.

"YEAH YOOUU, SHOOK ME AAALLL NIIIGHT LOOOONG...."

*****

Buffy was stripping the sheets off the bed, intending to throw them in the wash before she left for school. School. It didn't seem so daunting this morning. She felt rested and ready to face the day, which was odd, considering how little sleep she'd actually gotten. For the first time in weeks, she could honestly admit to being in a positive frame of mind.

Scooping up the sheets, she buried her face in them for a moment, letting their mingled scent wash over her, warming her body as a flush crept across her skin.

Spike had been...different, last night. She wouldn't have thought him capable of such tenderness, such passion. But he had been. He'd actually made love to her, instead of the wild fucking that they'd engaged in before. The feeling of him pressed against her back like a second skin, strong arms wrapped around her tight...she'd wanted to keep him inside her and never let go.

And the way that he'd woken her- so delicious, making her come so hard that she forgot to breathe, almost suffocating beneath the pillow. Buffy closed her eyes, seeing his face...that fierce, possessive look as he moved deep within her, his gaze burning right through to her soul. It had both terrified and thrilled her...that sense of drowning, of tumbling so far that she'd never find her way back.

They'd come together so violently, leaving marks where fingers had dug into flesh, where skin had slammed against skin. It occurred to her that perhaps no human male would ever be strong enough for her, that she would never have what others considered a "normal relationship". Never have what other girls took for granted.

Well, she wasn't like other girls, wasn't that what everyone was always telling her? No matter how hard she tried, she'd always be different- always be on the outside, looking in. Maybe it was time to face that fact and deal with her life the way it was. Stop worrying about what might never be and enjoy what was right in front of her. Of course, she couldn't enjoy it openly, couldn't afford for anyone to know about Spike and how she felt about him.

*And just how exactly DO you feel about Spike? What is it that you have with him?* Great sex, certainly. A shared bond because of their part in the destruction of Angel and Drusilla, with each of them losing the only person that they had ever loved. Both of them plagued by restlessness and a need for action that sometimes replaced common sense. Was that enough? Enough for a relationship? Enough for anything at all? It had to be; they couldn't turn back now, even if they wanted to.

Buffy deliberately avoided thinking the L word, preferring to believe that what they had was only physical. She had been in love with Angel, and look where it had gotten her. No, she wasn't going to go that route again. In the light of day, it was easier to pretend that she didn't need Spike, easier to forget that she ached from wanting him, more than she ever had with Angel.

A glance at the clock told her to get moving, so she tossed the sheets to the floor and began searching her closet for something to wear. Spying a skirt and top that she hadn't worn in a while, she quickly threw them on and checked out her appearance in the mirror, smiling as she did so. *Welcome back to the land of the living!*

She grabbed her brush off of the dresser and turned around, flinging her hair back from her shoulders. The hand holding the brush halted in midair as she froze, staring fixedly at her neck, reflected in the mirror. *Oh my god, how could I have forgotten?* There, right in plain sight, were two puncture wounds, surrounded by slightly red, mottled skin. The memory of how she'd offered her throat to him came flooding back, making her feel ashamed and slightly nauseous.

The other times that he'd bitten her had been different; impulsive, in the heat of the moment. Her thigh, her breast- they hadn't seemed as dangerous, or as fatal. This time she'd bared her neck, submitted like captured prey. *I'm the Slayer, how could I have done such an incredibly stupid thing?*

A sneaky voice in the back of her head whispered, *Because you knew what it would do to him, how good it would feel. You wanted to belong to him, body and soul* A low moan sounded in her throat as she stared at the marks like a deer caught in the headlights. *Oh god, Giles!*

Spurred into action, she ran to the closet, flinging clothing everywhere until she found a scarf that went with her outfit. Almost sobbing with relief, she wound it around her neck, draping the ends down her back. Arranging it to cover the bite, she stepped back and surveyed herself with a critical eye.

*Not bad, it looks like a fashion statement, no one will question it. No one except Cordelia, anyway and she hates everything I wear, so it won't matter.* She'd have to beg off from training, but after yesterday, she didn't think that Giles would be in any hurry to be a punching bag again.

Now that the marks on her neck were covered, Buffy felt calmer, less distraught. Her hand reached up to touch her throat through the scarf briefly, fingertips grazing the spot where his teeth had pierced her flesh. She felt his mark, throbbing beneath her touch. His brand- almost burning, reminding her that even though she denied it, part of her belonged to him. She and Spike were linked together by her blood flowing in his veins, not once, but three times now.

It didn't bother her as much as it should have. Every fiber of her being should have been crying out in protest, but now that she was over her initial shock, she felt oddly pleased in a way that she didn't fully understand.

To know that Spike could control himself, keep from draining her even in the throes of passion, meant that he felt something more than lust, more than hunger. And Buffy knew that no matter how much she denied it, whatever lies she told herself, she wanted him, needed him- 'cared' for him, more than she was willing to admit. She was sure after last night that Spike knew it, too. Damn him.

Buffy turned from the mirror and scooped up the sheets, trying to ignore the pounding of her heart as she headed downstairs. In spite of everything, in spite of the turmoil swirling around inside her, last night had left her with a feeling of something close to contentment. She had experienced a kind of pleasure that she hadn't known existed; had felt him seeping into every pore, melting into her as if they were one being. Spike felt it too, she was certain of it.

No one could take that away from them, however wrong their relationship might seem. Buffy wasn't about to give up on him now, not without a fight. She didn't know if she could survive losing someone else that she...cared about. Letting her thoughts turn toward school and the day ahead, she threw the sheets into the washing machine, spun the dial and ran for the door, determined to be on time for a change.

********

Buffy decided not to stop in the library before classes, wanting to take a few minutes to gather her thoughts without being subjected to Giles' scrutiny. She headed for her locker, smiling at several familiar faces while keeping an eye out for the rest of the gang. Jonathan and Larry both gave her a wide berth, so she made a mental note to catch up with them later and apologize. Or maybe she'd let Larry stay frightened of her awhile longer; she kind of liked him better that way.

Stopping at her locker, Buffy shifted her books to one arm and quickly unlocked the door. Tossing the books inside, she glanced up at the top shelf, expecting to find a pen. Instead, there sat a single red rose, its color so deep that it was almost purple.

Buffy just stared for a moment, before reaching up to pluck the flower from the shelf. A piece of paper came drifting out of the locker and fluttered to the floor. Buffy bent down to retrieve it, smiling as she held the flower under her nose to sniff its fragrance. There was only one line, written in an unfamiliar hand- all angles and sharp edges:

Treehouse, tonight- 11 o'clock.
~S

Her smile widened and a blush stole over her cheeks as she remembered their last time together in the treehouse. *Wonder what he has in mind?* She closed her eyes and let the soft petals caress her cheek, imagining Spike's fingers stroking her in its place. Just the thought of him started a tingling in her lower abdomen, making her yearn for his touch all over again.

Buffy pictured him sneaking into the school- breaking into her locker, risking the sun's fiery rays- all for the sake of one simple, romantic gesture. *I can't believe he did this; I can't believe he even THOUGHT of doing this!*

Spike kept surprising her with his complexities. Each time he did, he broke down one more barrier, dug his way into her heart a little deeper. She wondered if he was having the same doubts and fears that she'd been struggling with, or if he was sleeping peacefully, unaware of what he was doing to her.

"Buffy! There you are!"

Startled, she flung the rose and the paper into her locker, grabbed the first book she touched and slammed the door shut, trying not to look flustered as she turned around to greet Xander and Willow.

"Hey guys, what's up? I'm feeling so much better today, I can't BEGIN to tell you how much!" *Stop babbling Summers, you'll only make them suspicious.*

Xander eyed her warily, taking in her well-groomed appearance and bright smile. She seemed like her old self, but he knew from experience that she could turn on him at any given moment.

Buffy reached out and touched his arm, giving him an apologetic look. "Xander, I'm really sorry about yesterday. I don't know what came over me. Can we chalk it up to some big, bad, Hellmouth thingy and forget it ever happened?"

She looked up at him with those eyes. *Oh god* He never could resist her when she looked at him like that. He'd long ago given up trying to fight what she did to him; it was easier to just cave and try to suppress the hard-on that he knew was inevitable. Xander rolled his eyes at her and grinned.

"I SUP-POSE I forgive you, you'd probably kick my ass if I didn't. You know, living on the Hellmouth puts a whole new spin on the concept of PMS. Remind me to thank my parents for deciding that Sunnydale was the ideal place to settle and raise children."

Buffy smiled up at him, relieved that he wasn't angry with her. Her relief was short-lived, however, as she spotted Cordelia over his shoulder. She braced herself for the fashion commentary that she knew would be coming her way.

Cordelia slid her arm around Xander's waist possessively and flashed her Miss America smile in Buffy and Willow's general direction. Her eyes raked over Buffy's attire, taking inventory before coming to rest on the scarf. Pleased to have something to criticize, Cordelia's smile widened; nothing brightened her day like a fashion victim.

"Buffy! Interesting look, that scarf is so...what's the word I'm looking for...five minutes ago?"

Buffy laughed, one hand coming up involuntarily to finger the silk at her neck. "Actually Cordelia, that's three words. And I consider my look "retro". Maybe I'll start a trend."

Cordelia sputtered in disbelief. "YOU! People like you don't start trends, people like ME start trends..."

Xander decided to cut off her tirade before she got up to full steam. "Cordy, honey! Did I tell you how great you look today? Is that a new outfit?"

Buffy threw him a grateful look as the bell rang. "I'd better run, guys! I'll catch you later, at lunch!"

She hurried off to first period, a definite bounce in her step as the other three stared after her with puzzled expressions. Xander was the first to break the silence.

"Okay, not that I'm not happy to have the old Buff back, but what the HELL is going on? Yesterday she gives me a public flogging and today she's all sweet and bubbly, begging my forgiveness. Not that I'm complaining, mind you, but dammit, I'm confused!"

Cordelia gave him a comforting pat. "Xander, you're always confused, but that's not the point. Buffy tried to tell ME what's in style! THAT outfit "retro"? Give me a break!"

Willow shook her head and gave them both an exasperated look. "Something's definitely up with Buffy; she looks so happy, acting almost as if...no, that's ridiculous, it's gotta be something else."

"What, Will? What's gotta be something else?" Xander was looking at her with interest, eager to be clued in to what might be causing Buffy's erratic behavior.

"She just seems a little too cheerful today, that's all. And it's only been a few days since Angel...you know, since she..."

"Yeah well, maybe she finally decided that offing Deadboy was a "good" thing and it's giving her a major happy." The thought of Angel's death never failed to give Xander a deep down satisfied feeling.

"Maybe. She just looked so flustered when we walked up, and she's sort of, oh I don't know, glowing, I guess." She shook her head and shrugged. "Don't mind me, too many thoughts, as usual. We'd better get to class."

They headed down the hall, Xander and Cordelia both oblivious to the nagging suspicion swirling around in Willow's brain. She knew that Giles was worried about Buffy's unpredictable behavior; he had that 'look', and he'd been rubbing his forehead a lot. He'd be relieved when he saw how happy Buffy seemed today.

Willow's eyebrow furrowed in consternation. She couldn't help but think that Buffy looked like someone in love, all flushed and starry-eyed. *But that's impossible. Angel's dead, and we would have noticed if Buffy was interested in one of the boys here at school, or even at the Bronze.*

Just then, Oz came around the corner smiling his sweet smile, and Willow forgot all about Buffy as she ran to meet him.

*****

Morning smiles, like the face of a newborn child,
Innocent, unknowing
Winter's end, promises of a long lost friend
Speaks to me of comfort

Giles glanced at his watch, then back at the phone for the tenth time in fifteen minutes. *Eight hours, give or take.* She'd always been home in the afternoons, but things might have changed in the three years since he'd last spoken with her. *Three years! Has it been that long?*

He felt a pang of guilt for neglecting to keep in touch. She'd always been there for him; the least he could have done was let her know that he'd settled in Sunnydale. *No, Rupert, you only call when you need something, never to inquire about HER life.*

But I fear, I have nothing to give
I have so much to lose here in this lonely place

Making up his mind, he picked up the phone and dialed the number that was permanently etched in his brain. As he listened to the call make its way overseas, he thought about the last time he'd actually laid eyes on her- ten years earlier.

He could still see her, the sunlight glinting off of her red hair, green eyes dancing with mischief as she laughed at his hiking skills. Meredith. Willow's resemblance to her was uncanny sometimes, causing him no small amount of discomfort. He was startled out of his reverie by a male voice on the other end of the line.

"Hello?" Did he dial correctly?

"Um, yes. Hello, may I speak to Meredith Waldman, please?"

"Whom shall I say is calling?"

"R-Rupert Giles."

"Hold a moment, please."

Giles could hear him calling to someone in the distance. "Darling? Phone for you, a Rupert Giles."

He wanted desperately to hang up and forget he ever called. Then, HER voice, sparkling and cool- like a mountain brook, flowed over him across the wire.

"Hello, Rupert is that really you?"

"Y-yes, Meredith, it's me. I'm sorry it's been so long, how are you?"

"I'm wonderful, and...I'm married. For two months now."

Giles closed his eyes for a moment, wondering at the feeling of loss. *You have no right, no right at all to be jealous. You gave up any claim to her years ago.*

He tried to muster some sort of enthusiasm in order to congratulate her. "That 'is' marvelous news, I'm very happy for you." There, that sounded normal.

"Thank you, Rupert. That means a lot, coming from you. Now, enough about me- where are you, HOW are you? Tell me everything."

"Well, I...I live in Sunnydale, California and I'm a school librarian, of all things." He could hear her delighted laugh, and knew that she was picturing him surrounded by miniature Rippers. She knew everything about him, good and bad. The only person besides Ethan who understood him completely.

"They've gone and given me an active Slayer. Can you imagine? Someone must have known what they were doing, she's downright impossible at times. Exactly what I deserve, at least in the Council's eyes." He chuckled ruefully. "Her name is Buffy and truthfully- in spite of being somewhat difficult, she's the most resourceful Slayer I've ever come across. Her strength astounds me." He could feel his eyes water as he thought of Buffy and how much she meant to him.

"I can tell by your voice how proud you are of her. And I always knew that you'd make a fine Watcher; there was never any doubt in my mind."

"Meredith...the reason I called- Buffy is going through a difficult time and I-I'm not sure how to help her. I didn't know who else to turn to. I know I don't have any right to ask, but you helped me when I needed it most..." His voice trailed off as he felt guilt plague him once again for using her this way.

"Of course you have the right, that's what friends are for. I'll always be here, I thought you understood that."

"I'm a sodding idiot, I don't know why you put up with me." He felt better already, just hearing her voice.

"Yes, you do. I have too many years invested in our friendship, too many memories. Now, tell me about Buffy and what's troubling the both of you."

Giles proceeded to fill her in on the past two years, telling her everything about Angel, Buffy, Jenny, Spike's various evildoings. He left nothing out, unburdening himself to her just like he had when he was 25, teetering back from the brink of destruction.

Meredith cried when he talked about Jenny, of love lost before it had a chance to blossom. Talking about Jenny offered catharsis, something he'd been in desperate need of. He couldn't talk to Buffy; she would only feel more guilt and he refused to inflict that upon her.

Finally, after describing Buffy's ordeal with Angel and her recent behavior, Giles was finished- emotionally drained, but feeling better than he had in days.

"So, that's everything, then. Life on the Hellmouth, and all that it entails." He waited breathlessly for her say something, anything.

"Rupert, I-I had no idea- the things that you have to face, day after day, good lord! I can almost understand why you wanted to escape all those years ago. Poor Buffy, so young to have all of that weight on her shoulders. I can't imagine what it must be like, for either one of you."

That was the problem, no one could imagine it, not unless they experienced it first hand.

"It's Buffy I'm worried about. Killing Angel may have been too much for her to bear, I'm afraid. I don't know that she was ever able to separate Angel from Angelus; to look at him and see the monster beneath the face of the man she loved. She's been having terrible nightmares, but she won't talk about them, won't tell me much of anything."

"You're a man, she's a young girl. It's awkward, I know. Have you told her anything about your past? Perhaps that would help, if you confided in her."

He sighed, running his hand through his hair in frustration. "She knows about Eyghon, of course. And a little about Ethan, but nowhere near the whole truth. I've never told anyone, except you. She's so young and my past is...something I don't even like to think about. If she is unable to trust me, I'll have failed as her Watcher, and I don't think I could survive that."

"I understand, Rupert. I'm afraid I haven't been much help, have I?" She sounded distressed, giving him another pang of guilt.

"Meredith- I, just talking to you has helped, more than you know. You've always been able to do that, make everything seem better, somehow." A thought occurred to him. "I'll bet you were a beautiful bride. Would you send me a picture?" He heard the sharp intake of breath on the other end.

"Are you sure? I'd be glad to, if you really want it."

He smiled then, truly happy for her, even though it meant closing a door on that part of his life. "I do want it. I've missed you, Meredith. I was a fool to let so much time go by. I won't do it again. Now, I've taken up enough of your time, I should go."

"All right, Rupert. I'm so glad you called. I've missed you, as well."

He gave her his address and said goodbye, his voice tinged with regret and sadness- for what he'd walked away from all those years ago, and would never have a chance at again.

Giles stared at the phone for a long time after hanging up, unable to stop visions of a younger, happier time from flickering through his mind. He rubbed his face with his hands, feeling old and tired, but at peace for the first time in months.

"Giles?"

He looked up into another pair of green eyes, so much like Meredith's that for a moment, past and present intertwined, leaving him disoriented and flustered.

Tangled up in your embrace
There's nothing I'd like better than to fall

"Willow!" He fumbled with his glasses, regaining his composure when they were safely back on his face. "Why aren't you in class?"

Giles stood up and began shelving books, trying to ignore the effect that she had on him. Willow followed him, grabbing a stack of books on her way. She set them down on the cart in front of the shelf, turning to look at him with concern.

"Mrs. Miller sent me down here for some history books." She reached out, laying a hand on his arm, her touch sending a jolt through him. "Giles, are you okay? You seemed...far away, just now."

He gave her a quick, nervous smile and moved away, pretending to be engrossed in his work.

Wind in time, rapes the flower
trembling on the vine and
Nothing yields to shelter it from above

"I'm fine, Willow, just...worried about Buffy, I suppose. These last few days have been rough on her." Focusing on Buffy gave him a chance to calm down. *She's a child, for god's sake. Less than half your age. Get hold of yourself, you're turning into a Nabokov character.*

"I saw Buffy this morning. She looked better, more like her old self. Maybe she's finally starting to deal with Angel's death."

"Perhaps." He glanced at her, this child-woman, so unaware of how desirable she was, of how much she tempted his inner demon. *You're staying buried, Ripper, where you belong. I won't allow you to fuck up my life again.*

They say temptation will destroy our love
The never ending hunger

"Shouldn't you be getting back to class? Do you need any help with those books?"

Willow shook her head and hurried to the stacks, pulling several books off of the shelves. She returned after a few minutes and stood in front of him, looking as though she wanted to say something, but unsure of how to go about it.

"Giles, Buffy will be okay. She's tough, you know? And she has you to help her get through this, which means that she'll be just fine."

Her trust in him, her confidence that he could make it all better, only served to make him feel worse about his reaction to her.

"Thank you, Willow. That's very kind of you. You'd better run along now, before Mrs. Miller wonders where you are."

She nodded and murmured a quick "See you later," hurrying out the door.

Giles stared after her, afraid that his call to Meredith had dredged up too many memories. Memories that only intensified his attraction to Willow, making him feel like a damned fool. *Christ! How can I help Buffy when my own life is a such a disaster?* He turned back to the books, immersing himself in the mundane task, emptying his mind of everything except the job at hand. Trying to forget that he lusted after a girl he'd sworn to help protect, a girl young enough to be his daughter.

But I fear, I have nothing to give
I have so much to lose here in this lonely place
Tangled up in our embrace
There's nothing I'd like better than to fall

Buffy stared at the clock, cursing its slowness and praying for the school day to come to an end. She hadn't been able to think of anything but Spike and the treehouse all day; hurrying to her locker between classes in order to touch and smell the rose, as if she needed to convince herself that she hadn't imagined finding it that morning. She'd only half listened to the conversations at lunch, oblivious to the strange looks that Willow threw her way as she sat there, a secret smile lighting her face. Buffy felt like screaming as she drummed her pencil on the desk; eleven o'clock was so far away! She didn't know how she would keep from going insane until then.

Finally, the bell rang and Buffy leaped from her seat as if shot from a cannon. Grabbing her books, she bolted for the door, heading straight for the library. *Meet with Giles, blow off training, and then what? Spend the next eight hours pulling my hair out by the roots?* She burst through the library doors, startling Giles, who was just coming out of his office.

"Buffy! Good lord, you almost gave me a heart attack!" Pausing to catch his breath, he looked at her, taking in the flushed cheeks, sparkling eyes and playful smile. *Willow was right, she does look better today.*

Relief flooded him; he'd been so afraid that she wouldn't be able to pull herself together, afraid that he'd have to delve into his own past in order to try to help her. Giles cursed his wretched cowardice, wishing that he was as brave as the young woman standing before him.

"Sorry, Giles." She smirked up at him impudently, letting him know that she was anything but. "Listen, about training today...I really have a ton of homework-"

Giles held up his hand, cutting her off in mid-sentence. "It's fine, Buffy. We can skip training today. My bruises need a chance to heal, at any rate."

"Great! So, anything Hellmouthy to report? Prophecies of doom? I can hang for a little while, as long as I spend some time studying." She threw her books on the table and hopped up next to them, swinging her feet in the air as she waited for the rest of the gang to show up.

"Um yes, well, actually things are quiet for the time being. What about your patrols? Any sign of Spike, or any indications that he's planning something?"

Luckily for her, Giles had his back turned and missed the blush that spread across her face. "Nope, just normal vamp activity, nothing out of the ordinary."

"Good. Perhaps your evaluation of him is correct, and he won't seek any retribution."

Buffy twirled a piece of her hair and tried to look unconcerned. "Don't worry. Whatever happens, I've got it covered. I can handle Spike...and anything he dreams up."

She was saved from further conversation by Willow, Xander, Oz and Cordelia. The five of them spent an hour talking about normal high school activities before Buffy stood up and announced that she was leaving. Telling Giles that she'd be sure to patrol for a couple of hours after sundown, she practically skipped her way out the door, stopping at her locker to retrieve the rose.

******

Spike paced back and forth, willing the sun to go down, anxious to be out of the mansion and away from prying eyes. Darius was snooping around- Spike just knew he was looking for any excuse to undermine his role as Master.

He hated all of the fucking politics that went with being in charge, always having to be on guard. If he didn't hate the thought of answering to someone else more, he'd step down; let some other poor sod watch over the idiots. *Yeah, right! No fucking way am I giving up control of Sunnyhell. It was bad enough having to deal with Angelus.*

Tomorrow...tomorrow for sure he'd have to tell the minions about Angel and Dru. All hell was going to break loose. *They'll be clamoring for the Slayer's head.*

It was going to be interesting- continuing his relationship with the Slayer while keeping up the pretense of trying to kill her. Part of him was looking forward to the challenge; at least it would keep him on his toes. The other part wanted to take the Slayer and run far from all of this Hellmouth madness- find some dark corner of the world where they could be together without worrying about her Watcher, or her idiot mum, or a bunch of vampires jockeying for power. Just the two of them, shagging until their parts fell off. *Yeah, well, it's a nice thought, anyway.*

The sun slipped below the horizon, signalling his freedom. He figured on grabbing something to eat before meeting the Slayer, maybe find a way to steer the minions away from the playground for tonight. It wouldn't do for one of them to catch him with her, not this soon, anyway. *I'll check the newspaper for a sporting event. Lots of food milling about, the fledglings will go for that. Easy pickings.*

As he headed downstairs, Spike wondered if the Slayer had liked the rose. He'd always been good at that sort of thing...when he put his mind to it. He was sure that she'd been surprised, figuring that a demon was incapable of romantic gestures...of showing feelings. Well, she'd realize soon enough that he was different from that fucking bastard, Angelus.

He'd always been capable of caring; the demon hadn't taken that away from him. He would never have stayed with Drusilla all those years if the demon had wiped out every last bit of his humanity. That was the kicker, why did he seem to have more of a heart than Angelus? Why was he able to love, when Angelus couldn't? And he HAD loved Drusilla- worshiped her, in fact. The only thing Angel had seemed to love was causing pain and destruction.

Before meeting Darla, Angelus had been given every advantage in life, born of well to do parents- unlike Spike, who'd been saddled with a drunken whore for a mother and who, from the tender age of seven, had had to rely on only his wits to survive. So why had Angelus turned out to be psychotic, while he, on the other hand, was merely somewhat rambunctious? Well, all right, maybe a sight more than rambunctious, but nowhere near the evil prick that Angelus had been.

So, what did it mean? Hell if he knew, and what the fuck did it matter, anyway? *Bloody hell!* Ever since he'd started up with the Slayer, he'd been plagued with too many introspective thoughts. *She's driving me out of my bloody mind! I never cared about this shit before. Probably because I was too busy taking care of Dru. Bloody full time job, that was.*

Spike grabbed the newspaper off of the table, eager to have something else to occupy his mind. He scanned the headlines, catching a small blurb on page 5, about a woman in LA found dead in her apartment, drained of blood. *Lara.* He felt the tiniest twinge of regret before turning to the sports page, hoping to find something to attract the boys' attention. *Aha! There it is!* Just outside of town, a minor league baseball game, filled with thousands of unsuspecting blood bags.

Spike casually mentioned the game to Jason- who used to play high school ball- knowing full well that Jason would rope everyone into going with him. His privacy problem solved, Spike went out in search of his own dinner, his spirits lifting as soon as he was free of the mansion's oppressive air.

It was time to go meet Spike- finally, after a seemingly endless day. Buffy had been practically jumping out of her skin all evening, stalking around the house like a caged animal, waiting for sundown so that she could go patrol and work off some of her pent up energy.

To her disappointment, she'd only found one newly risen fledgling, hardly a challenge. *Newly risen, now who could've...?* She doubted that it was Spike; he'd complained enough times about Angel populating the earth with his 'children'. That meant that someone else was trying to build a 'family'. *Or an army. I'd better warn Spike to watch his back.* A Slayer looking out for the welfare of a Master vampire, could her life possibly go more askew than this? She seriously doubted it, but this WAS Sunnydale, after all.

Buffy finished buttoning her dress- a light, cotton, sleeveless thing that she figured wouldn't be on her body for very long. *Why do I even bother getting dressed?* The scarf went back around her neck, just in case she happened to meet anyone on her way to the park. Sweeping her hair up, she pinned it loosely so that a few tendrils escaped, framing her face.

With one last look in the mirror, she grabbed a pair of sandals and snuck out of the house, her heart pounding so loudly that she thought her mother would hear her. *It feels almost like a real date, except for the sneaking around part. Thank god Mom's already in bed; she won't even notice that I'm gone.* Nothing short of Armageddon was going to keep her from meeting Spike. Nothing at all.

**********

I'll bite the hand that feeds the pain
I'll lay my life down for love
I lost the truth, I lost my way
But I am looking for it

The streets were empty as she hurried to the park; no sign of anyone, alive or undead. Buffy walked steadily toward the treehouse, suddenly nervous about seeing Spike again. After last night, their relationship seemed changed, somehow, and she wasn't sure how to deal with it. *What if I imagined it? What if he doesn't feel the same way?* She stopped in front of the door and it suddenly opened, revealing a different Spike than the one she was used to seeing.

Oh I am looking for it now
I am looking for it
Oh I am looking for myself

He stood there in the doorway- just looking at her- barefoot, in faded jeans and a midnight blue shirt that darkened the color of his eyes. His face younger, more relaxed. Her heart seemed to stop for a moment as she stared back at him, caught up in those eyes- deep, penetrating, always seeing more than she wanted him to. She slipped off her sandals as he reached for her hand and helped her inside, holding her gaze, still not saying a word.

As the door closed behind her, Buffy looked at her surroundings, taking in the blankets and pillows covering the floor, the flickering candles that filled the shelf on the wall. Slow, sensuous music sounded from the portable cd player in the corner. He'd even tacked blankets up on the windows, for privacy. Tears sprang to her eyes as she looked back at him in wonder, surprised that he'd gone to the trouble of making the treehouse comfortable- cozy, even.

"Spike, it's-" She didn't know what to say; it was all too much. He wasn't supposed to be like this, make her feel this way. *He wasn't supposed to make me fall in love with him.* The tears slipped down her cheeks as she finally admitted to herself what she'd been denying all along.

Spike took her face in his hands and gently kissed away her tears, their saltiness clinging to his lips. He reached up and loosened the pins from her hair, running his fingers through the silky strands while his eyes roamed over every inch of her. *So beautiful, golden fire...like seeing the sun again.*

After a hundred years of Drusilla's darkness, he welcomed the light- craved its warmth, not caring if he got burned. *Angelus was a bloody fool. How could he have wanted to destroy something so perfect?*

Even when Spike was trying to kill the Slayer, a part of him held back, knowing that he'd never again find another who challenged him like she did. He'd always credited himself with having more brains than Angel and here was the proof. The Slayer belonged to 'him' now, and Angel was dust, just as he should have been a fucking long time ago.

A savior sent to save the world
An angel has no armor
Now torn and bent, no wings unfurl
We are looking for it
Oh we are looking for it now

Spike unwrapped the scarf from her neck, running his fingertips across the bite, feeling her tremble at his touch. The healing process had already started, but he could still make out the tiny holes where his fangs had pierced her skin, leaving his mark. Pulling her close, he brushed his lips over the wound, fighting the urge to drink from her again. He wondered if there was something in her blood, some addictive chemical that would account for his obsessive need to be with her, to feel her body beneath his, to taste her sweetness.

Sliding his hands around her waist, he kissed his way up her neck, stopping at her ear to whisper, "I want to make love to you, Slayer. It's all I've thought about since this morning."

Reaching up to wind her arms around his neck, Buffy pressed closer to Spike, wanting to feel his hard body pressed against hers, her heart already beating faster as his soft words registered. She buried her face in the hollow of his throat, trailing kisses over his cool skin as his hands moved across her back, holding her tighter. Her fingers flew to the buttons on his shirt, unfastening them one by one, her mouth covering every part of his exposed chest.

"You taste so good," she murmured, pushing the shirt off of his shoulders and down his arms.

Spike gripped her arms, pulling her back against him and capturing her mouth in a kiss that left her breathless. His tongue slid past her lips to stroke hers, the sensation causing a tingle that traveled all the way to her womb. As the kiss grew deeper, they both moaned at the same time, their hands roving over each other's skin, forgetting everything except the feeling of their bodies pressed tightly together.

We are looking for it
We need to find but one thing good

He slowly unbuttoned her dress, letting it slip to the floor until she stood there before him, clad only in white lace panties. The panties followed the dress and his eyes darkened with lust as he gently lowered her to the makeshift bed. From behind a pillow, he produced another rose, similar to the one that he'd left in her locker. Holding it over her head, he brought it down slowly, lightly caressing her brow, drifting over her nose, across her lips. Buffy sighed with pleasure as the soft petals moved over her skin, touching her lower and lower. Spike took his time, watching her face as he swirled the rose around one pink nipple, then the other, smiling as she whimpered and arched upward.

And under every star (I'm finding heaven)

She gave herself up to the exquisite torture that he was inflicting upon her. Teasingly, the flower eased its way down over her stomach, dipping into her navel, kissing the hollow between hip and thigh. Her breath caught in her throat, waiting to see where it would go next. Spike didn't disappoint, easing her legs apart and lightly brushing the rose back and forth across her clitoris and her labia, just barely touching the sensitive flesh. It was almost too much; she didn't know whether she wanted it to stop...or never end.

In every breath of air (I'm finding heaven)

Spike couldn't wait any longer to taste her. He replaced the flower with his mouth, licking every fold, sucking her clit while his hands smoothed over her hips, lifting them in order to drink deeply from the wetness flowing over his tongue. This was home to him, this sweet warmth between her thighs. The only thing that eased his restlessness, gave him any kind of peace. His cock throbbed painfully, still trapped inside his jeans. He slid a finger inside of her, rubbing, listening the hoarse cries coming from her throat.

In everything I have (I'm finding heaven)

Buffy grabbed Spike's hair and pulled, wanting to feel him on top of her- inside her. He raised his head and looked into her eyes, seeing the urgency in them. Quickly undoing his jeans, he yanked them off, freeing his swollen member. Moving between her legs he stared down at her face, brushing his thumb across her cheek.

Buffy ran her hands over the muscles in his arms, gazing up at him with luminous eyes, letting him see what she'd tried so hard to hide.

"Love me, Spike, please..."

With a groan, Spike buried his face in her neck and found himself answering her, almost against his will. "I will, pet." *I do...God-or-Satan-or-whoever fucking help me.* He'd cut out his tongue before he said the words out loud; it was enough that they'd popped into his head.

Spike eased into her slowly, holding her face in his hands so that he could watch her eyes. She gasped as he filled her, wrapping her legs around him and thrusting upward until he was fully sheathed in her warmth. Buried deep, he stayed still, fighting for control as he felt her tighten around him. Both of them were thinking the same thing...that nothing on earth had ever felt this good, this right.

In everything I am...

Their moans filled the air as they began moving together in perfect rhythm, already in tune with each other's bodies. Her fingernails dug into his back as she arched against him, taking him deeper, feeling his cock grow harder with each thrust. She opened herself wholly to him, completely filled with his cold, hard length.

Buffy pulled his face down to hers, kissing him, her hands winding through his hair. Moving from her mouth to her ear, Spike traced the curve with his tongue, nipping and sucking at the lobe.

"Spike...aaahhh, that feels..." Her voice trailed off as he sped up, rocking his groin against her clit, making speech impossible as she felt her climax draw near.

"You're so hot and wet, love, so tight," he breathed against her neck, knowing she was close by the high pitched sounds coming from her throat. Clutching her hips, Spike drove into her harder, his face buried in her hair, surrounded by her scent.

"Come for me, Slayer, I want to hear you scream..." He felt her body shake, could hear her heart pounding as she forced out the words.

"Say...my...name..." She needed to hear him say it, even if it was only once.

Spike growled low in his throat, so close to his own orgasm that he didn't think he could hold out much longer. He put his lips to her ear, feeling his control snap as he said her name for the first time. "Buffy...I-aahh, Christ!"

The sound of her name on his lips sent Buffy over the edge, her body going rigid. "Now, Spike, please, please, please..." She screamed as she exploded, coming in wave after wave of intense pleasure.

Spike quickly followed, letting out a roar as he felt her tighten around him, releasing his seed in long spurts that seemed to go on and on. The force of it left him shaken and his head dropped to her shoulder, pressing against her damp skin.

The world is big, the world is bad
But I will find the beauty
I see a vision in my head
I am looking for it

Tears leaked from Buffy's eyes as she lay there, trembling, her hand stroking his sweat soaked hair. *I love you.I love you.I love you...*

As if he could hear her thoughts, Spike raised his head and looked at her, one of his fingers coming up to touch her cheek. *Christ, Slayer...what the fuck have you done to me?* He closed his eyes, rubbing his head against hers as the tremors subsided. *No way out, not now, not ever...* Completely lost, sucked into the vortex...and he didn't even care, not one fucking bit.

Oh I am looking for it now
Oh I am looking for myself

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