“Spike--is there something wrong with the soup? You’ve hardly touched it.”

He’d agreed to chicken soup, but now he just sat there dejectedly, stirring the spoon around.

*And I thought vampires just played with food on two legs*

The vampire took a breath. “It’s just that, well... I feel like a great big ponce, sitting here eating chicken soup with the Slayer. I mean, I used to be the scourge of Europe, or at least a part of it, and now I’m all domesticated. It’s really hard on the bleedin’ ego.”

He looked up from his bowl and stared at Buffy. “It’s because of this bloody chip that I keep finding myself in these stupid situations where the only possible outcome is either staking myself or becoming an unwilling lapdog for the good guys.”

Despite herself, Buffy felt a twinge of sympathy for him.

“Look, I can’t tell you that I know what you’re talking about, or that everything’s going to get better. But I do know that someone doesn’t survive for 120 years without being able to adapt. This chip is probably--ok, definitely--the worst thing that’s ever happened to you, but you’ll learn to live with it, just like you learned to live with everything else. Remember when you were paralysed? You didn’t stake yourself when that happened; you concentrated on getting better. Now concentrate on that chicken soup and don’t feel sorry for yourself.”

She wanted desperately to add: You’ve got me, now. I’ll help you get through this--but chickened out.

Spike’s glare softened a little. “Thanks, Slayer.” He turned his attention back to the soup that was laid out before him.

When it was clear that her guest was done eating, Buffy cleared the table and put the dishes away in the dishwasher. Spike stayed seated at the table, his head resting in his hands. He hadn’t eaten much, but she was happy to see him ingesting something other than blood. She knew he wouldn’t make a habit of it, but it made her feel better while it lasted. Right now, though, he was starting to look like hell.

“Spike? I think you should take a bath, and then go to bed. You look beat.”

He answered her, but didn’t move. “How come I feel bad again? I was feeling fine this morning, and then after I dozed off. Now I’m back to feeling like hell. I don’t know how you humans put up with this on a regular basis--I’d end up killing myself.”

She sat down on the chair beside him. “You feel bad because you’re starting to wind down for the day. It always feels worse in the evening because your body wants you to rest so it can take care of itself.”

She put her hand on his arm. “Now let’s go upstairs and I’ll run you a bath. You can even sleep in Dawn’s bed if you promise not to puke in it. She’d never let me live that one down.”

She stood back up, and held her hand out for him to take.

Spike took her hand, and got up. His mind was racing as Buffy led him up the stairs, his hand in hers. He imagined that she was taking him up to her bedroom, and felt himself get hard at the thought, *Yeah, like that’s gonna ever happen*.

She led him to the bathroom, and sat him on the toilet “Now stay here--I’ll go see if I can find you some other clothing. I think Xander might have left some slouchy pants here at some point.”

As she rummaged through her closet, she could hear Spike whine, “Bugger that! I’m not wearing the whelp’s pants; I’ve had a bad experience with his clothes!”

His protest stopped short when she presented him with a plain black pair of flannel pants.

“They’ve got an elastic waistband, so you don’t have to worry about the fit, and I have some crazy notion that you won’t mind the colour. So shut up and take them.” She also handed him a towel and a facecloth.

She went to the bathtub and turned the water on--she fiddled with the temperature until she was content that it was just right. As she turned back to the vampire, she saw that he had begun to undress. He had removed his t-shirt, and was working on the buttons on his fly.

She could see that he didn’t wear any underwear; this led to naughty thoughts she wasn’t able to push away. *You know, you also need to take a bath; I’m sure he wouldn’t object to sharing the tub. Just imagine his strong hands, all soaped up, sliding down your stomach, his lips on the back of your neck...* She came back to her senses, and noticed that she was panting and staring right at him. *Great- now he’ll think you’re insane. Good going, Buffy*

Spike looked at the Slayer, intrigued. What was going on in that mind of hers? He had watched her as she sat on the side of the tub to turn the water on. Now she turned to stare in his direction, but she wasn’t really looking at him; she seemed to be staring through him. He turned around and looked on the wall, thinking that maybe there was a spider or something on the wall; for some reason, creepy-crawlies always hid in the bathroom. *No, nothing there...what is it then?*

He faced Buffy once again, and did a double-take. She was staring at him, one hand sliding down her stomach, and she was breathing heavily through parted lips. He cocked his head and said her name as if in prayer, “Buffy?”

He held his arm out and put his hand over hers, as it lay on her stomach. He heard her take in a sharp breath and watched her close her eyes. Fully aroused, the vampire’s senses were now at their sharpest. He could sense a charge flowing between their bodies.

He took one step closer and was hit by the smell of her arousal. *That’s for you, mate. The Slayer’s hot for you, and you’re too bloody sick to do anything about it.* He pulled her in an embrace and held her tightly, craving the physical contact like he craved blood.

Buffy expected Spike to taunt her, to sneer, to mock her; that or perhaps thrust himself onto her, in full throes of passion. What she didn’t expect was a hug. Without thinking, she returned the hug with affection. She could feel his lips caress her neck, and sighed. She ran her hands down his back, and felt his muscles tense. She could feel the strength hidden beneath his pale skin. He pulled back, and gazed into her eyes.

She had no idea what he was thinking, but she could see adoration in his blue eyes. *Do something! He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing on earth that matters to him.* Buffy held his cheek in hand, pulled herself closer to him, and brushed her lips against his.

The kiss was feather light, almost chaste. She pulled back and rested her head on his chest, noting the lack of a heartbeat. It no longer bothered her that she felt something for Spike; this coming-to-terms was strange, but welcome, to her. She felt him tighten his grip on her; somehow, she now knew what he was thinking.

“Spike?” He brought his eyes to hers. “Things have changed--I... I want you to know that. I don’t hate you anymore; I don’t think I have for a while now. We have our fights, and I think that that’ll always be part of who we are, but I don’t wish you any harm anymore. I don’t know if this makes sense to you, but I feel like I have to tell you.”

Spike’s heart sang at Buffy’s words. She’d read his emotions, and laid bare her heart to him. It wasn’t an admission of love, but it was close enough for him. Anything other than ‘I hate you Spike and I hope you die’ was a good start.

“Yeah, pet, it makes complete sense.”

He grasped her shoulders, and kissed the top of her head. They stood there, his chin resting on her head, not knowing what to say next.

It was Buffy who finally broke their silence, “Uh, you might want to get in the tub before the water cools down completely.”

He gave her a leer. “Care to join me?”

*I wonder how he’d react if I said ‘sure, why not’?* The little voice lost out, as level-headed Buffy took over.

“No--I think you need to wash up and head for bed. You’ve had a long day and you’re not feeling great yet--I can see that you’re still under the weather.”

She pulled out of his embrace and left the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

She leaned against it, and closed her eyes. *Buffy, what are you doing? Can you handle falling for another vampire? What’s Giles going to say about this? And the Scoobies!*

Her little voice interrupted the Slayer’s thoughts, * Xander will be horrified, Anya will be excited, and Willow and Tara will sympathise with your need to be with someone. They might not understand, but they’ll be supportive--they always are. At least this one doesn’t have a soul to lose. That and you don’t have to worry about whether or not he’ll be faithful--his last relationship lasted 120 years. And last but not least, he’s dead sexy- you’ve got to find out what he’s like between the sheets!*

“Ok, that’s enough of that!” Buffy pushed herself away from the door and walked to her bedroom--she needed to get herself ready for patrol.

Dressed in leather pants and a deep red tank top, she grabbed Mr. Pointy and a small vial of holy water from her weapons chest. She laid them on her bed, ready for when she would be heading out.

She heard the water draining from the tub. The bathroom door opened, and Spike walked out, wearing Xander’s flannel pants. He looked slightly better rested, but still in need of at least one good night’s sleep.

“Ok, let’s get you to bed, shall we?” She walked ahead of him, biting her lower lip. *God! How can he look so sexy when he’s not even trying? He’s sick and tired, and you can’t think of anything else but what it must feel like to have him lavish you with kisses. What’ll happen when he’s feeling better, and he goes back to acting like a Casanova?*

They made their way to Dawn’s bedroom. Buffy turned the lamp on, pulled the comforter back on the bed and looked around.

She laughed quietly. “Hopefully the boy-band posters won’t give you any nightmares. Remember--if you don’t feel well, I’ve put a bag in the garbage. Try to reach for it if you think you’re going to be sick. I’m not kidding when I say that she’ll kill me if you puke on her bedspread.”

Spike sat down on the edge of the bed. He felt out of place--here he was, wearing someone else’s clothes (someone he hated, at that) and preparing to sleep in a teenage girl’s bed. This was definitely going on his ‘weirder life experiences’ list (well, the post-chip one, anyway). He pulled his legs up on to the bed, and leaned back against the pillows.

Buffy draped the blankets over him and sat down beside him.

“I can get you something to help you sleep more soundly. There’s this stuff called Neo-Citran- you just mix it with water, kind of like tea, and it makes you sleep better. Do you want to try some?”

Spike gave her a shy smile. “Do you think you could mix it with a mug of your finest?”

Buffy wrinkled her nose. “Neo-Citran in blood? Ugh, I guess I can. It’s lemon flavour, though. Don’t know what that’ll taste like, but I can make it for you...”

Spike looked at her in earnest. “Slay... Buffy--I want you to know that I appreciate all this, what you’re doing for me. I know I called your ‘nurse’ bluff, but you never really had to go ahead with it.”

Buffy brought her hand up to his hair and pushed some stray locks back into place.

“Actually, this isn’t what I originally was planning on doing; I was going to wait for you to conk out at the Magic Box and I was going to sneak you back to your crypt.” She offered a sheepish grin. “Giles helped me realize that that wasn’t the ‘responsible thing’ to do. Thing is, I made a promise and I have to keep my end of it. I was annoyed at first, but it’s turning out to be better than I could have imagined.”

She pulled his head closer to her, and kissed his forehead.

“I’ll go get you that concoction so you can get a good night’s sleep.” She paused, and smiled. “Strange saying that to a vampire...”

Spike watched her leave the room and leaned back into the pillow. All of a sudden, he was almost afraid of getting better--he didn’t want this to end. He’d never been one for introspection, but he found that being sick led to a lot of that. He tried to remember exactly when it was that he developed feelings of any kind for Buffy. He startled himself when he couldn’t recall not having feelings for her--right from the start she had turned him on. The fighting, the banter, the tight little outfits; he realized that he’d always had it for her.

He closed his eyes and took a few unnecessary breaths. Breathing always calmed him down--he didn’t exactly know why, but he suspected that his body was comforted by the memory of its humanity. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Buffy making her way into the bedroom.

“Here you go--Neo-Bloody-Citran, just like you asked.” She put the mug down on the bedside table.

“Now it’s time for me to go take a late-night stroll through Sunnydale’s finest cemetaries. You make sure that you drink that all up--I’ll come by to pick the mug up when I’m back, and I don’t want to see anything left in there.” Then her face fell. “Oh, I’m sounding like a mother, aren’t I?”

Spike gave her the most charming smile he could. “Yeah--it looks good on you. You’re a natural, you know that?” He picked up the mug and took a sip. The smile disappeared. “Ugh! This is awful--you expect me to drink all of this?”

She attempted a ‘don’t argue with me’ look that must have been more convincing than she imagined, because the vampire frowned and took another sip.

“Good--now get some sleep and I’m sure you’ll feel better tomorrow morning. Maybe then I can get you out of my hair so I can have that relaxing holiday I was looking forward to....” She gave him a smirk and left the room.

Two hours later, Buffy found herself back home bruised and in need of a nice relaxing hot bath.

She hadn’t had such a tough patrol in a long time: a nest of fledgelings, a lizard monster, a mugger (who would no doubt rethink his next attack on diminutive blondes) and, of course, a fungus demon.

If only she had paid attention to what Giles was trying to teach her last night, she would have known to aim for the eyes before getting completely smeared in fungus.

She laboured up the stairs. *Since when do we have so many stairs? Oh, yeah--they multiply every time I have a tough night. Ugh*, and went to her bedroom to grab her PJs. She made her way to the bathroom and ran herself a steaming bath.

Closing her eyes she slid into the tub and pushed all thoughts from her mind; no Giles, no mom or Dawn, no patrols or fungus demons, not even a certain peroxide vampire. No thoughts penetrated the Slayer’s mind as she let the day’s stress float away with the steam from her bath.

Well rested and more than ready for a nice long sleep, Buffy slipped out of the tub and into her pyjamas.

On her way to bed, she peered into Dawn’s bedroom and saw that Spike was sleeping soundly. She crept towards the bed to pull his blankets back up, as they’d slid down to his waist; as she did this, the resting vampire started to purr again.

Buffy smiled as that little voice from deep within spoke up, *Why don’t you just slip into the bed with him? No one’s around to judge, and you know you want to! You remember what it’s like to wake up in the arms of someone you care for--and who cares for you; I know you miss that feeling. Anyway, he’s purring again--don’t you wonder what that feels like, to have him purring and pressed up against you... Bet you wouldn’t have any trouble falling asleep.*

Buffy felt her Slayer object, but she quashed it.

Yes, it had been way too long since she’d felt the comfort of sharing a bed. Now that she finally admitted to herself that she felt something for Spike, this didn’t seem so wrong.

She walked to the other side of the bed, pulled the covers back and laid down. Cupping herself behind Spike’s sleeping form, she lay her arm over him, holding him close to her. Instinctively, the vampire pressed back into her, took her hand and threaded his fingers in hers. Asleep in each other’s arms, both vampire and Slayer profited from a deep, undisturbed rest.

As he slowly drifted into consciousness, Spike took a mental assessment of his well-being: his head was no longer pounding, his muscles didn’t feel all achy, and he didn’t feel a need to empty his stomach; in short, he felt better.

*Well, whatever the Slayer mixed in your blood last night must’ve done the job, mate. You’re feeling like a new vampire. Gonna have to thank her for that when you see her.*

It was then that Spike noticed that there was something pressing onto his chest. *What the...*

He opened his eyes, and found that Buffy was sleeping in the same bed as him; not only that, but her arm was draped across him and her head was resting on his chest. He was afraid to move, in case she woke up.

He didn’t know why she was in bed with him, but he would bet a pretty penny that it wasn’t on purpose. If she opened her eyes and saw where she was, she’d no doubt stake him for trying to do something perverted. Not that those kinds of thoughts were far from his mind, but right now he was simply enjoying the feel and the sight of her in his arms. This experience was definitely something he would be filing away for future fantasies. He closed his eyes and unconsciously traced circles on the Slayer’s shoulder.

For a moment he missed Dru; mainly because he’d been with someone for so long and was now alone. He may have been the Big Bad (in his mind, at least), but it was no fun if you were on your own. Deep in thought, he never noticed that the young woman in his arms was now awake and watching him.

Buffy woke up to a tickling sensation on her shoulder. In a rare bout of morning clarity, she remembered crawling into Spike’s bed last night. Now there she lay, comfortably nestled against him. She looked up and saw that his eyes were closed and his brow knit in concentration.

*What on earth is going on in that mind of his?* Her Slayer voice suggested, *He’s trying to figure out a way of draining you! Come back to your senses, and get away from him!* But her other voice countered, *He’s probably just trying to figure out what the heck you’re doing in bed with him, without Mr. Pointy. Betcha he thinks this is a dream and that if he opens his eyes, you’ll be gone...* Yes, this was most likely the case. He could have easily killed her while she was sleeping--she had been openly without defence. Buffy decided to ease his worries.

She raised her head, looked up at him and smiled “Good morning.”

Spike opened his eyes, and looked at her. Any apprehension he’d felt at her reaction to waking up in his arms disappeared; he’d expected her to be angry or disgusted, but she looked genuinely content draped across him.

“‘Morning.”

“So, how are you feeling this morning? Did you sleep well?”

“I don’t know, but that stuff you put in my blood last night gave me the best sleep in a long, long time. I’m feeling about as great as a hundred-and-twenty-year-old vampire ever did. Looks like you kept your part of the bargain, Slayer.” He paused and added, “Guess you’ll be wantin’ me out of your hair now.” *Please say no, please say you want me to stay. I don’t think I’d be able to leave you just now*

Buffy no longer yearned for her weekend of solitude. What she wanted, more than anything at that moment, was the blonde vampire. She was sick of pushing aside what she wanted so that she could do what was ‘right’. This was her weekend to unwind and she’d do as she damn well pleased. Which meant, in this case, making sure that Spike wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon.

“No, Spike, I want you to stay. Mom and Dawn won’t be back from LA ‘till tomorrow, so...” She pulled herself up until they were face to face, and kissed him.

It took Spike about half a second to register that Buffy (his Buffy, now) was kissing him. He put his arms around her, pulled her up even closer, and deepened their embrace. When he felt her tongue pressing against his mouth, seeking permission to enter, he parted his lips and darted his own tongue against hers.

Buffy’s breathing became erratic as she pressed her body against his; she began to run her fingers down the vampire’s chest, tracing his abs and finally cradling his erection through his pants. *One kiss. That’s all it took for him to get this hard... was Angel this big?*

Her musings were interrupted by a low growl. “God, Buffy.”

Spike felt like an excited schoolboy; he was afraid of losing control at the Slayer’s passionate ministrations. *Can’t have that happen, can we? Time to take control of this situation.*

He flipped them over, never breaking their contact. Hearing Buffy gasp, he pressed his erection against her. He broke their kiss, and began to place butterfly kisses along her jaw, murmuring incoherently as he made his way down to her neck.

“So hot... Like a dream come true, love... Make me go mad...” Pausing, he slowly traced circles with his tongue over the pulse point at her jugular. Spike could feel the blood flowing, the life force of the Slayer; its power made him dizzy, as his demon recalled the rush its taste would give. Only this time he wasn’t in for the kill. He wanted to hear her moan, not from pain but from pleasure.

Just to gauge her reaction, he bit down with his blunt teeth; Buffy let out an undisguised mewl of excitement.

“Like that do you, pet?” he asked in a husky voice.

He felt her nod shyly. It made sense, in an ironic way, that the Slayer would have a thing for neck biting; it was after all what her existence revolved around.

She should have known. Here she was, Buffy Summers, a near-virgin putting the moves on a 120-year-old vampire. It hadn’t taken much time for the tables to turn and for him to take control. She didn’t mind, though. It was bound to be much, much better with him in charge.

Everything he was doing to her provoked the most intense sensations; his cool lips against her throat, the touch of his fingers along the edge of her shorts, and the feel of his arousal against her thigh. He hadn’t even touched her below the waist yet, and she was dripping with excitement.

She felt him tug at the hem of her top. A gasp escaped her lips when she felt his cold hand cup her breast. *That’s it, Buffy. He’s going to kill you through sex. Here he is, just reaching your breasts, and he has you so worked up that you can’t think straight. He’s deliberately making you go insane.*

Spike wanted to make this last forever. All the fantasies, all the dreams he’d had came up short to the real thing. Never had he imagined that the heat radiating off a living, breathing, person could be so intoxicating. He’d never had sex with a human before. The heartbeat, the blood pulsing through veins, the sweat and the smell--he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to go back; not after this...

Lust dulled his mind; he was reduced to simple thoughts. *Too much clothing; must remove clothing...* Tugging at Buffy’s top, he was glad when she understood what he wanted. The offending article tossed out of the way, he took a moment to look at her.

He sat up, and looked down at his Slayer. “So beautiful. Cor, Buffy, you don’t know what you do to me.”

Reaching down, he took one of her breasts in his hand; he kneaded it, rolling the nipple between his thumb and index finger. Buffy gasped, and bucked up into his touch. Eager to please, the vampire brought his mouth down to her other breast, and dragged his tongue over the hardened nipple, eliciting yet another moan from the young woman.

As much as she enjoyed being doted on, Buffy felt that she should be giving as well. Her lover, *Yes, your lover. There’s no other word for what he’s doing to you. This isn’t just sex--he’s making love to you*, had moved down so low that she could no longer reach his erection.

She grabbed his free hand and brought it up to her face; one by one, she took each finger in her mouth, sucking on them, and wrapping her tongue around them. She felt his mouth leave her breast and move south, down her taut stomach.

“Oh God, Spike. You’re driving me insane; everything you’re doing...”

Spike paused, looked up at her through heavy-lidded eyes, and whispered, “Oh, but I haven’t started yet, luv. I’m going to love you like you deserve.”

His tongue darted into her navel, then followed a path down to her remaining clothing. The vampire curled a finger under the waistband of her shorts and looked up, as if seeking permission.

Buffy understood that this was the point of no return. *Yeah, as if there was a point of return before this. That tongue and those fingers working their magic; those blue eyes, almost black from desire, gazing through you; there’s no way you could stop now.*

She lifted her bottom off the bed, and allowed him to remove her shorts and underwear all at once. Her nakedness made her feel vulnerable. Feeling shy, she blushed and looked anywhere but at the demon between her legs.

Spike was incredulous. Was the Slayer actually self-conscious? Here he was, standing over the most stunning woman he’d ever seen, and she was blushing!

“Buffy, look at me!”

The Slayer turned her gaze towards him.

“You are beautiful, do you understand? Your neck, your breasts, your stomach...” His eyes never broke contact with hers and as he spoke he traced his fingers the length of her body, until they reached her nest of curls.

“So beautiful...” One finger drifted down into her folds, which were soaked with her arousal; hearing her whimper, he pulled it back out, and brought it to his mouth.

Buffy had never seen anything so erotic as when he brought that finger to his lips. She’d only been with a man once and when she and Angel had consummated their relationship, it had been frenzied and over too quickly. Now she was with Spike--soulless, arrogant, her supposed number one enemy--and he was lavishing attention on her like she was the only woman he had ever had eyes for.

*Is this how he’d been with Drusilla? If so, she was a fool to let him go.* If it had been left up to her, she would have pulled him on top of her and it would have been over in ten minutes. Things were much different with Spike in charge. *Guess you learn a lot in 120 years...*

All lucid thought escaped her as she felt his cold tongue press up against her hot centre.

“Ahhh... please, Spike...” Now it was her turn to mumble incoherently.

“Please what, luv? Do you mean this--” He slid his tongue the length of her folds, teasing her clit, “--or this?” He pushed his tongue inside her, then back out, repeating the motion a few times.

“Huh? Uh... both! Whatever! Just don’t stop; please don’t stop. So good...”

If she thought this was driving her crazy, she could never imagine what it was doing to the blonde vampire. He’d never been so hard in his unlife. Pressed into the edge of the bed with his head between the Slayer’s legs, he was convinced he’d never make it; every time he moved, his cock would rub against the comforter.

He had to change his positioning or he’d end up messing himself. Cupping his hands under Buffy’s rear, he pulled her closer to the bed’s edge; now he could move back a bit, and go back to showing his Slayer what she meant to him. He dragged his teeth against her clit and heard her breathing speed up. *Must be close*, he thought, smiling to himself. As he continued to focus his attentions on her sensitive area, he pushed two fingers up into her.

Buffy could feel that she was close. It wasn’t enough that his mouth was ravaging her, but he had to go add his fingers to the fray. Her body felt like a surge of electricity was flowing through it. Her fingers and toes felt all tingly, and her legs went weak.

She continued her mantra. “Oh, please don’t stop... please don’t stop... so close...” Then she felt him bite down gently on her clit, and that did it. She screamed as the most mind-blowing of all sensations ripped through her body.

When she came back down from her high, she looked down her body, and saw Spike sitting back on his haunch, licking her juices from his fingers. His eyes were darkened with lust--obviously he had been extremely aroused by her climax.

She sat up, reached for him, and pulled him on top of her. Looking up at him, she lost herself in his eyes. “Spike, I need to feel you inside me.”

Spike couldn’t believe it. She was asking him, almost begging him, to make love to her. He touched his lips to hers and kissed her softly. Reaching down between them, he positioned himself at her entrance.

With one slow move, he buried himself deep inside her and nearly died--again.

“Cor, Buffy... You’re so hot; you’re gonna burn me.”

She was so tight, he tried to remember if she’d mentioned anything about being a virgin; he didn’t smell any blood, so he guessed that she was just not very experienced.

Then he remembered Angel. She’d lost her virginity to that ponce, and he hadn’t even taken the time to do it properly. It was obvious that she’d never had oral sex before, and maybe not even been brought to orgasm. He felt his demon rise at the thought of his grandsire laying his hands on his Slayer. He growled, and increased the pace of his thrusts.

*He’s vamped out! Oh God, you’re in trouble now--what did I tell you? This was all a ploy just to kill you!* Buffy’s Slayer came to the forefront in one animated plea; the other voice, however, wasn’t as frightened. *Calm down--it’s just the sex. He’s really aroused and probably hasn’t even noticed it. If you really want to pay him back for his oral... skills, let him drink from you. Remember with Angel? That was the most intense physical rush you had ever felt, and it wasn’t even supposed to be sexual!*

Buffy looked up at the vampire; instead of the blue eyes of a human, she was staring into the amber eyes of a killer. Only they didn’t really seem that threatening at that moment; they were softer and she could still see the love he felt for her in them.

She reached up, ran her fingers along the ridges on his forehead, and pulled him into an embrace. His cold lips met hers, and her tongue made its way into his mouth. She heard him growl as her tongue nicked itself on one of his fangs and the metallic taste of her blood surged their mouths.

Her second climax was close, so she made up her mind and whispered three words in Spike’s ear: “Drink from me.”

This had to be a dream. He must be hearing voices, because no way on earth was the Slayer inviting him to drink from her. Spike pulled back, and looked down at the young woman beneath him. Her eyes were closed, and she had tilted her head to the right, to give him better access to her neck.

“Are you sure, luv? Buffy?” He felt her begin to tremble, and felt her inner muscles begin to twitch.

“Yes. Please, Spike!”

*Bloody Hell! She’s getting off on the thought of you biting her. What the hell are you waiting for?* He lowered his head and sank his teeth into Buffy’s neck, just as she came for the second time that morning.

The taste of Slayer blood was enough to push Spike over the edge; this blood, that she was giving him willingly, tasted better than anything he’d ever had. He pulled his fangs out and roared as he experienced his most powerful orgasm ever. His face shifting back to human guise, he collapsed on top of Buffy, exhausted, and licked at the drops of blood trickling from the fresh bite marks.

Buffy wrapped her arms around him, and held him tightly. “Wow. That was... wow.”

Spike chuckled and gave her a kiss on the cheek before rolling onto his back. “Wow indeed, luv. I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard before.”

Buffy turned to him, resting her chin in her hand. “Really?”

“Yeah ‘really’,” he trailed a finger down Buffy’s side, smiling when she squirmed from the tickling.

“Never had sex with a human before; it’s just so... different. There’s the warmth from your body, your heartbeat, and your blood...” He said the last bit so quietly that she hardly heard him.

“When you asked me to drink from you I thought I was dreaming, but then I looked down at you and knew it was for real. Buffy, love, had I been staked after that, I would have died happy.” He raised his head and looked her in the eyes “Why did you do it--why did you ask?”

The Slayer drew her gaze away from his and focussed on a spot on the comforter. “I don’t know why. It just seemed right; like I needed to give myself to you completely.”

“I... I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He brought his finger to the bite mark, which by now had stopped bleeding.

“No, you didn’t.” Buffy blushed, as she admitted, “It’s, uh, nice. It... enhances the experience.”

Spike cocked an eyebrow. “Are you telling me that getting bitten turns you on?”

“No! It’s not like that; it’s... Ok, yeah, it’s a definite turn-on.” She gave him a stern look. “But only in the heat of the moment. And not all the time. And don’t you dare tell anyone about this, the biting thingy, or you are so very dead. Well, more dead, anyway.”

“Don’t worry, pet. If telling your little dirty secret means I’ll never get to do that again, your secret’s safe with me.” The vampire let out a little snicker.

They lay there in each other’s arms for a short while, until Spike made a move to get out of bed. Buffy whimpered, “Don’t get up, stay here for a while longer.”

The blonde vampire gave her a sheepish look. “Sorry, pet, but this body is having perfectly human reactions to all the food you’ve been pampering me with. If I don’t get to the washroom soon, you’ll have more than puke to worry about in Nibblet’s room...”

He gave her a wink, as he pulled his jeans up. “Anyway, I think it’s about time that I repay you your kindness--what do you say to breakfast in bed, eh, ducks?”

The young woman tucked herself into the comforter, and grinned “Mmm--that sounds nice. Just as long as it isn’t that bubble and squawk or whatever you used to eat...”

“It’s bubble and squeak, and I haven’t the faintest idea how to make it. I’ll figure something out.” With that, Spike left the object of his affections to her own company and thoughts.

Buffy sighed, and began to think of what had transpired between her and her former enemy. They had shared the most intimate of relations, and had both been sober and spell-free. She had no doubts that he had feelings for her, and she could admit to herself that she liked the bleached vampire more than she should. Heck, she had *begged* him to drink from her; the kicker was that he had hesitated to do so until he was sure that she really meant it.

But Spike had no soul. What did that really mean, anyway?

For Angel, a soul meant a possible eternity of torment. With the soul, he could never attain true happiness; this meant that he could co-exist with people, ‘do the right thing’, but never fall in love. Without the soul he became Angelus, and that was bad for everyone else. Goodness is thrust upon him- it’s not by choice.

Spike, on the other hand, has the chip. This piece of micro-technology embedded in his brain prevents him from physically harming humans. It does not, however, lead him to do good. Granted, if he’d never had the chip in the first place, he probably wouldn’t have been helping Buffy and the Scoobies out. But (there’s always a but) he may have eventually helped out anyway. The good he does (helping her patrol, being a good friend to Dawn...) are acts of his own volition. Chances are that if he lost his chip, he could still be on his way to becoming a better ‘man’.

The breakfast tray thatappeared before her shook her out of her musings.

“Hope it’s edible, love. Haven’t exactly cooked much of anything before.” Spike sat down beside her, with a mug of O-Negative in hand.

Buffy looked down at her breakfast: eggs, toast and orange juice. Not the breakfast of kings, but all things considered, it was just right. “It’s perfect, Spike. I couldn’t have asked for anything better.” She gave him an odd look. “Are you sure you’ve never done this before? I didn’t hear the smoke alarm, or any breakage of bowls...”

The vampire frowned. “Well, I’m not clueless you know. Like you said--I didn’t live 120 years without learning to adapt.”

He looked at her plate, which had been nearly licked clean. “By the look of things, I guess I did a good job.” He put his empty mug on the tray, and put everything on the floor, beside the bed.

“Yeah, guess I was really hungry. Patrolling took a lot out of me last night; I usually have a snack afterwards, but I was kind of distracted by someone.” She smiled at him, and placed her head on his shoulder. There was a question she wanted to ask him, but she wasn’t sure how to go about it.

“Spike?”

“Yeah, luv?”

“Uh, nothing.” *Chicken*

“Buffy, if you have a question, please ask it. No need to start hiding things from each other. Not after this morning, anyway.” He put his arm around her, and played with her hair. *Closest I’ll ever get to sunshine again.*

“Well, it’s actually about this morning.” She bit her lip, and looked at him. “Why did you vamp out? Was it just the sex, or was it because your demon was fighting to come out, or...” She broke off, and went back to staring at that spot on the comforter. “Not that I minded, the biting being gentle, but I was just wondering why?”

“I thought about how Angel was your first, and it made me angry to think that he hadn’t done it properly--that he hadn’t treated you as you deserved.”

Buffy was beyond blushing. “How do you know about that--that he was my first?”

Spike offered her an apologetic smile. “Angelus has a big mouth, and a love for showing off. Bedding the Slayer, and being her first, wasn’t something the ponce was going to keep to himself. I’m sure it comes to little consolation, pet, but I think that Dru and I were the only ones he told.”

“You’re right--it isn’t much consolation, but there’s nothing I can do about it now. That was a long time ago. I’m just happy I didn’t know about it back then.” She leaned back against her pillow, and gasped. “Oh my God, Spike!! I... we... just had sex in Dawn’s bed!! I have to clean the sheets; I have to light some candles...”

Her rant was cut short by a passionate embrace. Spike pulled away, and whispered in her ear, “Well, if we’re going to clean up after ourselves, might as well make it worth the effort, shouldn’t we?”

The young woman gave him a heated look. “That sounds like a good idea. First things first though--you’re way overdressed for the occasion. I think we’ll have to get rid of this extra clothing...” She straddled his thighs and began to unbutton his jeans.

Spike lay back and let her continue her exploration. It was nice to be the passive one, every now and then. Anyway, he was curious to see what she was going to do.

As she lowered her lover’s zipper, Buffy noticed that he wasn’t moving. At all. *Huh? Am I doing something wrong?* She looked up to see that he was gazing at her, a lazy smile on his face. *Oh. Oh! He’s letting me take control. What do I do now?! I’ll probably just embarrass myself...*

Her hesitation and uncertainty were obvious. “Just do what comes natural, luv. There isn’t a right or wrong--follow your instincts.”

“That obvious, huh?” Buffy smiled and stretched across the vampire’s length to give him a hungry kiss. She then returned to her previous position and began to pull his pants off. He must have washed up, as she couldn’t smell herself on him anymore. *Wonder if he had ulterior motives?*

*Good thing I remembered to wash up a bit. Maybe it’ll pay off...* His mind went completely blank as he felt her take him in her mouth. His hips lifted off the bed before he could regain control of his body. He took an unnecessary breath and tried to remain calm. He could feel her drag her tongue up the underside, until she hit that tiny sensitive spot, just below the head.

“Please, luv. Yeah--right there...”

Buffy was nervous as hell, as she’d never done this before. Sure, she’d talked about it with the girls, pretending to be an old pro at it, but truth was she’d never been this close to a penis--ever. She’d always imagined oral sex as something degrading, where the woman was in a submissive position. However, as her ministrations rendered Spike incoherent, she realized that the power was with the woman, not with the man. She relaxed her throat muscles and took him in completely. When she heard him beg her not to stop, she smiled to herself. *Wow, I could get him to do anything if I keep this up. Maybe I’ll ask him to mow the lawn...*

When he was completely sheathed in her mouth, Spike didn’t think that unlife could get any better. That was until she began rubbing the base of her tongue against his cock. *Danger! Warning, Will Robinson! Pull out before it’s too late!*

Buffy felt him pull out of her mouth with a sudden jerk. “Is there something wrong? I didn’t bite you, did I?”

Spike pulled her up to him, and gave her a slow, sensual kiss that left her wanting for breath. “No, pet. You were doing everything just right. If you kept that tongue thing up, I wouldn’t have been able to hold back. I don’t believe you’re ready for that quite yet.”

Relieved, she placed a chaste kiss on his neck. “Thanks--I don’t think I’m quite ready for that yet, either. I know what I am ready for, though.” At that, she scooted down to his erection, and eased herself onto him.

Both blondes moaned at the intimate contact. This second coupling would last longer than their first time. Buffy bent forward, and took one of his nipples in her mouth, twisting her tongue around it, never breaking rhythm. She pulled away from it, and left a trail of wet kisses up his chest to his neck, where she playfully nipped at his jugular. Encouraged by his growling, she centred her attention on that particular spot, until she had ‘marked’ him with a very dark hickey.

Spike felt her work on the hickey; if it was possible, the idea of her marking him made him even hornier. There was going to be no way to hide it; it’s not like he went around wearing turtlenecks. It was as if she wanted to show the world that he was hers.

Buffy felt her orgasm approaching, like a wave far from the coast. The wave starts small, but grows as it approaches the shore. This one was going to be a tidal wave, from the feel of it. She increased her pace, and felt her pulse race. A bead of sweat hung from her nose, threatening to drip onto her lover. He anticipated this, and reached up to lick it away.

Holding his demon at bay, the blonde vampire knew his release was close. He also knew that the Slayer was close as well. Her breathing was laboured, her eyes unfocused, and she had changed the angle of penetration so that her clit rubbed against him on every thrust. She was using him to get off, and this turned him on. He began to push up harder, trying to increase her pleasure.

Buffy took her weight off her arms and dropped to kiss Spike as she felt her orgasm rock through her. She felt his muscles tighten as he also reached his peak.

Kissing, grasping, clutching at each other, they felt wave after wave of intense emotion rolling over them as they experienced simultaneous orgasms.

Exhausted, Buffy collapsed on top of Spike. “Oh, man, I think I reached nirvana or something. I’m still seeing flashes...”

The blonde vampire was, for the first time in his life, at a loss for words. The best he could come up with, in response, was a grunt.

“Ooh--the chatterbox has been reduced to caveman speak!”

The Slayer immediately regretted her taunting, as two strong arms flew up and to her sides, tickling her. “Uncle!... Uncle! I’m sorry--please stop!” She didn’t have the energy to fight him off--submitting was so much easier.

Spike stopped the assault, and pulled her down to him in an embrace. They lay there, catching their breath (although he was just going through the motions), for a long time. Eventually, Buffy sat up, and turned to look at her guest.

“I’ll go get some clean sheets and candles. Something tells me it probably doesn’t smell too good in here.”

The vamp took a deep breath, as he pulled his jeans up. “Smells good to me.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “I doubt Dawn would agree with you. Can you start taking the sheets off the bed?”

As he gave in to her request, Spike felt odd at the domesticity of this scene. He makes love to the Slayer, holds her afterwards, and then proceeds to help her change the sheets. He would be the laughing stock of Sunnydale’s entire vampire population if this got out. Now, why didn’t this bother him? Why wasn’t he telling her to sod off, to change the sheets herself, as he bloody well should be doing? That’s when it hit him--he had developed feelings for the Slayer; there it was, in big neon letters, taunting his demon: Spike loves Buffy... He sat on the corner of the bare bed, head held in his hands.

When did his unlife get so complicated?

Buffy walked into the bedroom, and found the blonde vampire holding his head. “Spike? Are you feeling sick again?”

Spike snapped out of his trance and looked up. “Huh? No, no, I’m fine pet. Just doin’ a bit of thinking, that’s all.” He grabbed a corner of the sheet and helped her make the bed. “Thinking about this, about us. Don’t quite know what to make of it, to be honest.”

The young woman pulled up her side of the comforter, and looked at the vampire. “Honestly? I don’t know what to make of us either. Do you even want there to be an us? I mean, if this gets out, that you’re shagging the Slayer, as you’d put it, you won’t be able to show your face in the demon community.”

“First of all, ‘yes’, I would like there to be an us, if you’re willing. And I mean more than the shagging, as nice as that is.” Spike smiled at his slayer. “This weekend, you showed me your true nature--compassionate, loving, strong... That’s the Buffy I want to spend time with. As for the demon community, bugger them. Like they don’t know I already patrol with you--they probably already think we’re going at it. But what about your friends, the Scoobies? What about the Watcher? What will they think? I figure they’ll send you in for psychiatric testing and hunt me down to stake me.”

Buffy reached out and took his hand into hers. “There’ll be no staking. I’ll make sure of that. I don’t know how I’ll bring it up. Maybe we should just try to let them know one by one, starting with--God forbid--Giles. He has the right to know first. He’ll say something like ’Bloody Hell’ and wipe a hole through the lenses of his glasses.” She snickered a little, at this image. Her face scrunched at a thought. “Does this make us boyfriend and girlfriend? ’Cause, that sounds way wrong...”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Ugh, no. I prefer... lovers.”

“Sorry, Spike. I am not introducing you to anyone as my lover. That won’t cut it with Mom, or anyone else for that matter.”

“How about ’significant other’?”

“No! That’s too politically correct. Look, we’ll just figure it out when the time comes. For now, we’ll just... we’ll just be happy together, and not put a title to it. Now, I have to light these candles. Can you bring the tray to the kitchen, and I’ll meet you down there?”

The vampire stood and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Sure, luv. I might be out on the porch when you come down. Lots of shade there, and I’m dying for a fag.”

Buffy groaned at his attempt to joke, and pushed him towards the door.

The shrill ring of the phone startled her as she rinsed off the breakfast dishes. Pulling the receiver off the wall, Buffy uttered a quick: “Hello?”

“Buffy? Thank God, you’re alright!” An obviously worried Giles let out a sigh of relief.

“Of course I’m OK, Giles. Is something the matter? Why shouldn’t I be OK?”

The Slayer was getting nervous; her watcher wasn’t one to flip out over any small issue. She tried to imagine what kind of beastie had reared its ugly head this time, to make him nervous enough to call her in the middle of the day. “Please don’t tell me there’s another apocalypse.”

“No, there’s no apocalypse. Not that I know of, anyway. I was just worried because you didn’t call yesterday and, well, with Spike at your house...” He didn’t need to finish his sentence--Buffy knew where her Watcher’s thoughts led.

Buffy snickered to herself, knowing full well how little danger she was in. “Giles, I’m sorry I didn’t call. You did say that I should call if I had a problem, which I didn’t. Anyway, between doing my chores and taking care of a whiny vampire, I simply didn’t think of it.”

“How is Spike, anyway? Is he still ill?”

Buffy knew that Giles’ interest in the whole situation was piqued. The next time they met, he would pull out his journal and play twenty questions with both her and Spike. She looked out the window and watched the vampire lean against the porch railing. “He’s fine. I gave him some Neo-Citran last night and he woke up 100% okay this morning. Yesterday morning, though--he was in horrible shape: throwing up, sweating. It was really gross.”

“Neo-Citran? And it really worked? Intriguing. I’ll have to ask you about that...”

She could hear the gears working in the Watcher’s brain. “Yes, I’m sure you’ll have lots of questions to ask on Tuesday. Don’t worry, I’ll spill the beans. You’ll be able to show that stupid Council up; betcha they don’t have any detailed records of sick vampires. Anyway, Giles--thanks for the call, but I really have to go. I’m in the middle of doing the dishes right now *I’ve got to go and talk to my vampire lover* so I can’t stay on the phone.”

“Alright, Buffy. Do be careful, though. Don’t let your guard down--Spike may seem harmless when he’s sick, but he has tried to kill you in the past. He’s still a formidable opponent...”

“Don’t worry, Giles. I’m keeping an eye on him. I’ll see you at the meeting, then.”

“Good-bye, Buffy.”

“Bye-bye.” Click.

Buffy rested her forehead against the phone. She had no idea how she was going to break her new relationship to Giles. He wouldn’t understand her feelings for the vampire, and would clearly doubt Spike’s affections for her. She couldn’t hide this from him at all; not after what had happened with Angel. He would take any secrecy about a new relationship as a personal affront. No, she had to be forthright and honest for there to be any positive outcome. Guess this fit into the ‘responsible’ Buffy category as well...

The young blonde walked out onto the porch and turned to see Spike sitting on the swing, cigarette in hand. He seemed to be deep in thought. She looked at the sky and noticed that the clouds were menacing.

“Looks like we’re going to be getting that rain they were mentioning,” she offered, as she sat down beside him.

The vampire jumped a little, not having noticed her company. He still held his gaze out ahead of him. “Yeah, I can feel it.”

The young woman looked at him with a wry smile on her face. “You can feel it?”

He shifted. “The demon can, pet. Kind of like when animals go all wonky before storms. Hasn’t your watcher taught you anything ’bout us vamps?”

“He tries, but I guess I wasn’t paying attention. Does that mean that you’ll start running around the house like my old cat Mittens used to do?”

Spike turned to her, eyebrows raised. “You’re not serious, are you?” When he saw the laughter in her eyes, he laughed out loud. “Had me goin’ there for a second, luv. Thought you were going blonde on me.” He exhaled, sat back, and started playing with a stray lock of her hair. “Sunshine--that’s what your hair is like, you know that? All soft, and golden...”

Buffy sighed. “Giles called. He wanted to make sure that I was still alive--asked how you were doing, too.” She paused, and Spike snickered at the Watcher‘s misplaced concern. “It made me think about us again. I’ve given it some more thought.”

The vamp cringed inwardly. *Here it comes: “It’s been nice and all, but it won’t work out. Now bugger off.” I can’t believe I had any hope.*

“Spike?”

“I’m listening, love.”

“Just checking--looked like I lost you there, for a sec. I’ve decided that I’m ready to face the gang and tell them about us.”

Spike’s jaw slackened. “You’d do that for me? For us?”

She leaned back against him, staring at that same spot in the distance on which he had been fixated when she joined him. “I’m tired of doing what others tell me I should do, and acting how they think I should act. You know, I think I’d enjoy my life a whole lot more if I made my own choices. If that includes being with you, then... so be it. Giles will have a conniption, Xander will go into denial, but the others will be happy for me... for us, I mean.” She put her hand on his lap.

The vampire covered her hand with his own, and looked at her. “Buffy, if you’re comfortable with a more public ’us’, than so am I. Hell, I’ll scream it in the streets if you want me to. If any demon or vamp has a problem with my woman they can discuss it with my fist.”

The Slayer laughed at his declaration. “You know, Spike, I like you because behind all the attitude and the bleach, you’re still old-fashioned.”

“Romance is timeless, love.” He got up and stretched. “’Bout time I made my way back to the crypt. It’s dark enough that I can make my way to the sewers without goin’ all Fourth of July.” He held his hand out to her and helped her out of the swing.

They walked into the house and Buffy got the duster out of the hall closet. Spike shrugged it on and leaned in to give his Slayer a chaste kiss on the lips. As he made his way down the porch steps, Buffy called out to him.

“Spike! Uh, we’re having a Scooby meeting on Tuesday night. Maybe you want to join us...”

He didn’t turn around, but offered her a “Maybe, Slayer.” Which she knew was as close to a yes as she’d get from him.

Buffy closed the front door and made her way up the stairs. She had to remove all those candles out of Dawn’s room before she came back home....

As he made his way to the tunnels, Spike couldn’t believe how quickly he’d let himself fall for the Slayer. *Bloody hell--now you’re joining the Scooby kids on your own. Bad enough when you were tied to the Watcher’s tub...*

She heard the car pull up in the driveway just as she was making her way down the stairs. *Wow, good timing there, Buffy* She put her sandals on and walked out to help her mom and sister with their bags.

“Hey, guys! Did you have a good time?” Her attention was diverted to the mounds of shopping bags that Dawn and Joyce were pulling out of the taxi. “Holy good God, guys. You should have left something for the other shoppers.”

Joyce approached her oldest daughter and gave her a big hug. “Oh, honey. You missed a wonderful trip. So much shopping, so little time. You really would’ve had a good time.”

“Yeah, Buffy. We had an absolute blast.” Dawn jumped up and gave her sister a hug. “Did you have a good time here? Betcha you were bored out of your mind; alone in the house with only your movies to keep you company. Oh well, that’s what you wanted.” She paused, then let out a piercing shriek that only a teenaged girl can produce. “Oh! You have to see the skirt Mom bought me!! I can’t believe she actually let me have it--it’s like those pants where the waist is so low you can see the person’s bellybutton, but it’s a skirt! It’s soo cool! And there‘s this shirt that goes with it, and it‘s blue with stripes down the arms...”

Buffy wondered how long her sister could go without breathing. Had she ever been that bad? *I’m sure Mom would say ‘yes’ to that one...* “That’s great, Dawnie. Let’s get this stuff inside before it starts to rain; then you guys can show me what I missed.”

Joyce paid the driver and picked up the two bags that were left. As the three Summers women made their way into the house, Joyce whispered to Buffy. “Wait until you see what we found for you.” She smiled, and hurried ahead, leaving the blonde dumbstruck.

“Really? You guys bought stuff for me?” Buffy’s voice reached nearly the same pitch as her sister’s. She squealed and ran inside, eager to see what awaited her.

Two hours later, all three women sat in the living room, each surrounded by a mound of empty shopping bags and piles of clothing. “Wow, Mom.” A very exhausted Buffy exclaimed. “Did you, like, win the lottery or something?”

Joyce snickered. “No, no lottery for this. You can thank the gallery for this shopping spree. My boss gave me a very nice bonus for getting my hands on those Polynesian masks.”

Buffy wiggled in her seat. “Yay Polynesia. Anything that leads to new clothes is way cool in my books.”

Dawn got up, grabbed her clothing and made her way towards the stairs. “I’m going to go call Janice and tell her about all this new clothes. She’ll be, like, sooo jealous.” She proceeded to climb the stairs, two steps at a time. Her stomping paused briefly, and she came back to the edge of the landing.

“Uh, Buffy--why does my room reek of vanilla candles?”