by Pattyanne

"Angel?" Xander stopped in his tracks and stared into the murky shadow of a large mausoleum. "Is that you?" "Yeah, it's me...hi." Stepping out from behind the marble wall, the vampire came out into the dim glow of a streetlight. "Hi," Xander replied. "How've you been?" Angel shrugged. "So-so. Business is good. Lot's of bad guys in L.A." "So I've heard." Xander glanced around the dark cemetery nervously. "How come you're here?" 'Um..well, I was actually on my way back from Mexico, so I...just thought I'd pass through." He averted his eyes and tried to sound mildly inter- ested. "How's....everybody?" Xander had to force himself to keep a straight face. "How's everybody? Everybody is fine. In fact, Every- body is completely recovered from their trip to the other side and back." He jammed his hands into the pockets of his trousers and began walking slowly along the concrete path that cut through the middle of the graveyard, hoping that Angel would not linger behind. "Everybody," he added, "hasn't gone back to school yet, but Everybody isn't sure that's what they want to do. Everybody was having financial problems for a while, but that's all fixed up now that Everybody is getting a regular paycheck from the Watchers Council. Oh, and Everybody...." "All right, all right," Angel cut him off. "I understand what you're saying." He shook his head and smiled a bit sadly. "Guess I'm pretty obvious." It was Xander's turn to shrug. "Only in the way that an elephant doing the tango in your living room is obvious." They walked along in silence for a moment, then Angel turned to face Xander. "So...she's really okay? She's happy?" Xander nodded. "Yeah, she's really okay. And she's happier than she's been in a long time." He took a deep breath, wondering if he should be the one to tell Angel the reason behind Buffy's newfound hap- piness. Granted, he'd never liked Angel one damn bit, and he wouldn't have hesitated at one time to deliver the news with a side of relish, but things had changed so much over the past year or so. Basically, they had all been forced to grow up almost overnight, and he found that he really had no taste for childish "nyah- nyah" games anymore. "Look," he began, "I think you should know...." He stopped in mid-sentence, hearing a sound that was very familiar to them both...punches being thrown and landed. They looked at each other for a moment, then both turned and walked around the back of the maintenance shed, looking for the source of the fight. On the other side of the small building, they stopped short. In a small clearing a few dozen yards away, the slayer was doing battle with a vampire, one they both recognized. "You're getting slow in your old age, luv," Spike taunted. "Time to think about retiring." "Don't count on it, fang-face," Buffy sneered. "On your BEST day, you couldn't take me on my WORST." She punctuated her remark with a spinning back kick into her opponents abdomen. Angel muttered something and started to go the slayer's aid, but Xander caught his arm. "No. It's not what you think." The vampire jerked his arm away. "Let go of me," he snapped. "I have to help..." "HEY!!" Buffy's voice rose up the scale, and they turned to see her literally flying through the air, then land in a graceless heap up against a headstone. Spike followed at a casual pace, grinning as she struggled to stand. "Now THAT looked like it hurt!" Buffy straightened up and shook her hair out of her eyes. "Only in a good way." She was breathing hard and staring him down as he slowly approached her. Xander felt Angel tensing, and took a firmer grip on his arm. "Look," he hissed. 'You're gonna have to trust me on this. It's NOT what it looks like." Angel shook his head angrily. "I thought he couldn't do this anymore. Couldn't hurt people. What the hell happened?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the two combatants. Xander sighed. "He can't. It's hard to explain, but when she..died..and came back, she was different. Spike was the first one to figure it out." "But...I was told he was helping her...working with you guys." "He does." Xander dragged Angel a little further back into the shadows. "Look...they're not really fighting. Not like they used to." Angel craned his neck, trying to keep Buffy in sight. "I've been around for a few hundred years," he said curtly. "I know what fighting looks like." "You do, huh?" Xander spun him around suddenly. "Does it look anything like THAT?" Angel completely lost the power of speech when he saw what Buffy and Spike were now doing. The slayers arms were wrapped tightly around the vampire's neck, and his were locked around her waist as he lifted her a few inches off the ground. Their mouths were seemingly glued together. "She...they...how...?" Angel turned back to Xander, looking horrified and confused. Xander rolled his eyes. "I don't know...it's like some kind of weird foreplay for them. Every once in a while they beat the crap out of each other and then...do THAT," he said, pointing at the couple. They were talking too quietly for Xander to hear them, but Angel's superior hearing picked up every word. "Not a bad workout, gorgeous," Spike said, nuzzling Buffy's hair. "Didn't wear you out, did I?" Buffy giggled. "Not yet...but if you want to go home, I'll give you another chance." He maneuvered her up against a tree. "I don't know if I can wait that long." She tugged him down for another kiss. "Well...it's been a while since we made love outside, hasn't it?" "Mm-hmm...and you smell so good, kitten," Spike murmured. "Like strawberries and cream. I want to have you for dinner." He was kissing and nipping at her neck, and Angel watched in horror as she tilted her head to one side, completely exposing her vulnerable throat. Buffy squealed and started laughing. "That tickles... don't! God...you're such an animal...I love it!" Angel turned away. "This is unbelievable." "Tell me about it," Xander said. "Sometimes, they're absolutely sickening." Leaning against the maintenance building, Angel's head dropped back with a thump and he smiled bitterly. "You know...I left so that she would have a chance at a normal life with a normal guy. Some- one with a pulse." Xander stared at the ground, kicking a rock around with his shoe. "She tried that," he said. "It didn't take. She doesn't seem to want a normal guy. It's just not in her nature." He shook his head. "I don't know..maybe she needs more of a challenge." "Yeah...but why HIM?" Angel asked. "I guess," Xander said slowly. "it's because he gives her what she needs. They can have a complete rela- tionship without worrying about him...." "Doing what I did," Angel finished. Xander nodded. "Yeah, doing what you did." Looking up, he met Angel's eyes. "Look..it took me a while to accept it, too. I was absolutely sure that he'd find a way around that chip and turn on her." "How do you know that he...." Angel's voice trailed off when Xander shook his head. "He won't," Xander said firmly. "He loves her. I mean really, truly loves her. And he takes good care of her. She never goes out alone anymore. He goes with her every night." "When did things change?" Angel asked, rubbing his temples as though he had a colossal migraine. "She always hated him." "Yeah, well...he was the first one to change," Xander said. "He loved her first, I mean." He smiled. "He told me once that he went to sleep one night hating her guts and woke up in love with her." "Just like that?" Xander nodded. "Just like that. Of course, she still hated him. Didn't want anything to do with him, but my GOD, is he tenacious! You know, he once offered to stake Drusilla to prove that he loved Buffy." "Are..are you serious?" Angel asked in disbelief. "Dru- silla...well, she was..." "Yeah. Was." Xander chuckled. "Anyway...he kept after Buffy, started helping her. To make a long..WEIRD..story short, he threw in with her completely during that mess with Glory. Oh, and you'll love this...Glory thought that Spike was her key. Actually," he amended. "her little bridge trolls thought he was, so they grabbed him and they took him to her. She tortured him for hours to get him to tell her who it really was." "Dawn." "Yeah. God, I've never seen ANYBODY so totally beaten up, and I went to high school with some real professional bullies. It almost hurt just to look at him." Xander took a deep breath. "Soooo..we all figured that he'd give Dawn up in a heartbeat." "But he didn't." "Didn't say a word. Got beaten half to death, but he wouldn't talk. When he got away, Buffy sort of tested him by pretending to be the Buffybot..." "The WHAT??" "Don't ask. Anyway...he passed the test and signed on to play for our team." Xander swallowed hard at a painful memory. "When she died..he was just about out of his mind. For a while, I thought he was gonna die right along with her. Stake himself or just...die of grief." Angel looked away. "I know how he felt," he said quietly. "So, she came back," Xander continued. "And...well, you saw it for yourself." "I wish I hadn't." Xander hesitated a moment. "Don't worry about her, Angel. She'll be fine. Spike would kill himself before he would hurt her. He's proved it." "I hope you're right," Angel said. "I just..." He was interrupted by a soft scream from Buffy, and turned automatically, wanting to go to her. Xander grabbed his coat. "You don't want to see it. Trust me." Angel stopped. "You're right. I don't." He turned back to Xander. "I'm gonna go now, before my head explodes." "Good plan." They left the cemetery together in silence, pausing when they were outside the front gate. "Hey," Angel said. "Will you call me if...?" "I guess so," Xander smiled ruefully. "But it's not gonna happen." Angel hesitated, doubt still in his eyes. "I hope it doesn't...for her sake." "And maybe for YOUR sake, too," Xander said under his breath as Angel walked off. He stood and watched until Angel disappeared around the corner, then turned and headed for home. ~~~~~ Back in the middle of the cemetery, the vampire and slayer were still kissing feverishly. Spike moved Buffy closer to a mausoleum, and pushed her up against the cold marble, never losing contact with the soft lips parted beneath his. Buffy moaned as she felt him trail moist kisses across her face and down her throat, tonguing the shallow hollow at it's base. She cupped his face in her hands and guided his mouth back to hers. "I love you," she whispered, watching his face as he closed his eyes, savoring the words he'd once despaired of every hearing. "I love you, too," he said in her ear. "So much." Tang- ling his fingers in her hair, he gazed into her eyes. "You're my world, you know. All wrapped up in one tiny little package." Tilting her face up, he covered it with teasing kisses. "Know what?" she said, pulling back. "Let's go home. I want us to be in bed so that we can take our time." "Best offer I've had all day," he replied, grinning lech- erously. Her eyes sparkled devilishly. "Race ya," she said. Back- ing a few feet away, she turned on one heel and took off. "Watch where you're going!" he shouted, running after her, following the music of her laughter.

Buffy went upstairs, while Spike locked up and turned off the lights. From force of habit, she peeked into Dawn's room before she remem- bered that she was at a sleepover party with nine of her school mates. "She's fine," Spike said, slipping his arms around her waist and kissing the side of her neck. "I know." Even though her showdown with Glory had been over months ago, Buffy still fretted whenever Dawnie was away from home, and she had to make a conscious effort not to smother her with too much over protection. Turning in Spike's arms, she smiled at him. "We have the whole house to ourselves, so we can be as noisy as we want." "WE?" He laughed. "You're the one who screams bloody murder when you..." "Oh, look who's talking," she interrupted. "The guy who was shouting, "Baby...I'm gonna come...take it, baby...take it!" so loud that the neighbors threatened to call the cops. That WAS you, wasn't it?" "It BETTER have been me, love, or we have a serious problem." He bent down and swept her up in his arms, carrying her down the hall and into their bedroom. Setting her on her feet, he gave her a quick kiss, then pulled away. "Don't run off." "Where are you going?" "Just down to the kitchen. I'll be back sooner than trouble." "Why? What's in the kitchen?" "Don't be so nosy, little girl," he scolded. Buffy sighed as he left the room, then kicked off her shoes and dropped her jacket over the back of the rocking chair. She sat on the bed and waited, looking around the recently redecorated room and smiling with satisfaction. After Willow and Tara had moved into their own home, she and Dawn had decided to ask Spike to come and live with them. Her sister had been happy to move into Buffy's old room, which was bigger than hers, and then they had redone the master bedroom. They repainted it and hung new curtains. Buffy had kept her mothers oak armoire and chest of drawers, and the antique rocking chair. She had added a couple of small over stuffed arm chairs by the window, and had then gone shopping for a new bed. She found a king size, with a beautful brass head and foot board, then bought three new sets of sheets, and a white eyelet lace cover, with a matching dust ruffle. The bed was decidedly feminine looking, and she had worried that perhaps Spike wouldn't feel comfortable in it. But, he had assured her that as long as she was in the bed with him, he didn't much care what it looked like. She was glad now that she had decided not to sell the house. Her mother's mortgage insurance had paid it off, but she had been afraid that the memories would be too painful for her and Dawn. They had spent a long time talking it over before deciding that the good memories outweighed the bad ones. Willow and Tara had moved out, and Spike had moved in, first into Dawn's old room, then into the main bedroom with Buffy. Their father was sending a generous check every month, and between that, their mom's life insurance and social security payments for Dawn, and the money she was being paid by the council, they were managing very well. With that particular problem off her mind, Buffy was able to concentrate on her slaying duties, and had thrown herself into them with a renewed passion, determined to never let another demon get the upper hand with her again. She went out nearly every night, sometimes with her friends, but always with Spike beside her, and the word spread quickly through the demon grapevine that the slayer was back and was better than ever. "You're not falling asleep on me, are you?" Spike's voice interrupted her thoughts, and she smiled when he walked through the room carrying a bottle of champagne and two glasses. "Oh yummy...my favorite," Buffy said, clapping her hands with delight. "Yeah, well...take it easy, lightweight." He pulled the cork and poured two glasses, then set the bottle on the night stand. Stretching out beside her on the bed, he leaned back against the pillows. "Meaning?" she asked, polishing off the wine in three swallows and holding her glass out to be refilled. "Meaning that the last time we did this," he replied while pouring her another glass, "you got drunk as a very cute little skunk and passed out before I could take ad- vantage of you." Buffy grinned. "Then you'd better get started with the advantage taking." She drained her glass and set it down beside the bottle. Setting his glass next to hers, he said, "Anything my girl wants, she gets." He leaned over to kiss her, but she scooted away and off the bed. "Hey!" he complained, reach- ing for her. "Hey nothing," she replied, heading into the bathroom. "You know how I am when I drink. Either I go now, or I go when we're in the middle of something fun. Take your pick." "Go now," he said, shaking his head in amusement. He tugged off his boots and went to the window to close the curtains. As he looked out on the empty street, his eye was caught by movement in the shadows as a figure stepped behind a tree. A car came down the street, it's headlights brief- lighting up the yard. Spike stared more intently, feeling for a moment that he'd seen a familiar face staring up at their bedroom win- dow. "Whatcha looking at, handsome?" Buffy asked, sliding her arms around Spike's waist from behind. He frowned slightly. "Nothing. I thought I..." He shook his head and turned to face her. "Just shadows, I guess. Nothing important." "Well, look at me, then," she said. "I'm important, aren't I?" "You," he informed her, leading her across the room, "are all that's important in the world right now. You're all there is." Buffy smiled. "Oh, I like the sound of that." Sliding her hands up his chest, she began to unbutton his shirt. He stopped her. "No, I'll do that. I want something else tonight." He took to the middle of the room, then glanced through a stack of CDs and selected one. Placing it in the CD player, he adjusted the volume to a low setting, then settled back on the bed. Buffy looked at him with a question in her eyes as soft music began to play, a low alto sax with a seductive rhythm. She watched as he reached over and turned the lamp- light down to a mellow glow, then leaned back against the pillows. He smiled at her. "Take off your clothes." She returned his smile, then began to sway with the beat of the music. Her hips swung suggestively as she began to unbutton her shirt. When every button was unfastened, she let the blouse slip down over one shoulder as she turned around, glancing back at him through half closed eyes. Instead of letting the blouse slide off, she reached up and pulled the clips out of her hair, letting it tumble down her back, nearly to her waist. "Beautiful," he murmured. Buffy blew him a kiss. She knew how much he loved her hair. Months ago, when their love affair had really begun, he had lain beside her in bed, stroking her hair, and had begged her not to cut it. He touched it constantly, running his fingers through it when they made love, playing with it absentmindedly when they stretched out on the sofa to- gether reading or watching television, and burying his face in it when they went to sleep. Sometimes, he would come up behind her when she was brushing it and take the brush away from her. He would make her sit on the end of their bed and would run the brush through her hair himself, working out the tangles carefully and gently. Now, she ran her hands up under it, piling it on top of her head and holding it there while she danced for him, then released it, shaking her head to make it bounce and shimmer in the light. "Beautiful," he said again as she turned to face him and began easing her blouse down her arms, letting it slide off. She made another kiss at him, then reached behind her and unzipped her skirt, kicking it away when it puddled around her feet. Turning her back, she ran her hands down her arms, then her sides, in a slow self caress. "Yeah," she heard him whisper. Still facing away from him, Buffy looked over her shoulder and smiled as she lifted her hands and twisted open the front closure of her white lace bra. She pulled the cups apart, stretching the lace out from her body, then letting it slide down her arms. Instead of dropping it, she tossed it over her shoulder at him, knowing he would catch it. "Come on, baby," he growled. "Let me see." Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and turned around. Still moving her hips, she shook her hair forward until it covered her breasts, then slowly dropped her arms. He chuckled softly. "Tease," he called her, his eyes devouring her as she stood before him clad in nothing but a scrap of white lace underpants. "That's right," she said in a breathy voice. "I'm a tease." She widened her eyes innocently. "Want to see?" she asked, glancing down at her covered breasts. "Yeah," he said, his voice low. Buffy watched as he slid his hand over the snug crotch of his jeans, pulling at them as they suddenly became very tight. She could see how uncomfortable he looked. "Maybe you should unzip them," she suggested in the same innocent tone. He swallowed hard and unbuckled his belt, then care- fully unzipped his fly. "Look at what you do to me." "Oh," she cooed sweetly. "I'm a bad girl, aren't I?" She moved her shoulders to the music, making her breasts sway. "You're a VERY bad girl." He was using that ultra deep, sexy voice that she loved, as he moved his hand into the open- ing of his jeans. "Shall I stop?" she asked, running her tongue over her upper lip. "No, baby." He shook his head. "Don't every stop being my bad girl." Buffy moved her hands to cover her breasts, then shook her hair back over her shoulders. Spreading her legs in a wider stance, she waited for a crescendo in the music, then flung her arms straight up, like she was reaching for a star. She held the pose until the music started again. When she looked at him, she was surprised to see that he had crawled down to the end of the bed. One arm shot out and grabbed her hand, and she gasped as she was hauled roughly down onto the bed. Spike shoved her onto her back, then rolled over on top of her and tangled one hand in her hair. His mouth came down on hers with no gentleness or finesse, driven by raw lust. Before she could get her arms around him, he pulled away from her and rose to his knees. "Not yet,' he said. Buffy was losing control over her own arousal. "But why?" she panted. He reached for her and brought her up beside him. Taking both of her hands in his, he placed them over her breasts. "Touch yourself," he whispered hoarsely. "I want to watch." She felt a bolt of pure sexual excitement rush through her. This was new, and she loved doing new things with him. The tricks he had taught her since they'd begun sleeping together never failed to drive her wild. It was Spike who had taught her about the pleasure to be found while making love in water. She had come home from the market, and after putting the groceries away, had gone upstairs to change into her workout clothes. When she'd walked into the bathroom, she'd found it illuminated entirely by candlelight, and the tub filled with steamy, scented water. There was a mound of ice cubes in the sink, with a champagne bottle wedged into them. The door had closed behind her, and she had turned around to see her lover standing in front of it wearing a pair of black silk pajama pants and holding out a long stemmed red rose. Before she knew what had happened, he had her stripped naked and in the tub, and was running a sponge heavy with fragrant lather all over her body. Spike's capacity for romance never failed to amaze her. By the time they'd finished, there was an inch of standing water on the floor, and the champagne had ended up in places she'd never expected it to. Water play wasn't limited to the tub with him. He made a point of regularly interrupting her in the middle of a shower. He would push her up against the tile and lick drops of water off her skin, then drop to his knees and go down on her while the hot water pelted them both. After bringing her to climax, he would place his hands under her bottom and lift her, then slide her up and down his cock until he came. Kissing her sweetly, he would leave the shower. All this would be done with- out a word spoken between them. He was endlessly inventive with sex, teaching her how to play games, showing her new techniques and positions, and instructing her in the art of using food and drink in erotic play. Spike was a devoted teacher, and Buffy was an eager student as he initiated her into a whole new world of sensuality. Her previous sexual experience had been so limited that she was constantly surprised by him. She'd only had one night with Angel, and she'd been so young and naive that he hadn't wanted to frighten her or seem too demanding. He had been gentle with her untried body, so desperately afraid that he would hurt her that he'd held himself back and never really released his full passion. Of course, he had thought that there would be all the time in the world for him to teach her the wonderful possibilities of intimacy. Her second lover, if you could call him that, had been one of the biggest mistakes of her life. She had been so eager to explore the budding sexuality that Angel had roused in her, that she had allowed Parker to seduce her with charm, good looks, and a phony air of sensi- tivity, without ever really getting to know him. It was tawdry behavior on her part, and the next morn- ing she had gotten exactly what she'd deserved...hurt and humiliation. She had learned from that mistake, and when Riley came into her life, she had taken things slowly. When their relationship had taken it's natural course, Buffy had been certain that she'd finally found a man who could show her all the pleasures of sex that she'd been yearning for. But, Riley had little imagination or the stamina needed to please her. Many times he had left her unsatisfied, forcing her to resort to self stimulation to quiet her un- fulfilled need. Buffy had never been able to bring herself to tell him what she needed him to do, which made her think that perhaps the fault lay with her. This would make her feel guilty, and she would end up trying too hard to find her own release. The worst part of the problem was the fact that Riley never thought anything was wrong, had never noticed that he was not satisfying her. By the time he'd left, she had begun to wonder if this was going to be the pattern of her life, and if she had expected too much from the sex act. Perhaps life was not a romance novel containing wild- ly fantastic, utterly mind blowing, totally pleasurable sex every ten pages. She knew better now. Her life had BECOME one of those romance novels, different only in the fact that her novel had the fantastic sex every two pages. With Spike, she had finally found the man who could please her AND go on and on, never tiring, never losing control. He had never, not even once, left her unsatisfied and aching. In fact, he had been the lover that introduced her to the concept of multiple orgasms. Spike had proven his strength and stamina on the first night they had made love. It had started with a fight. Back then, everything they did seemed to start with a fight. She had only been back amongst the living for a few weeks, and she'd found that Spike was more firmly entrenched in her world than ever. But it hadn't bothered her. He had proven his loyalty to her and Dawn, and Buffy knew that if he could have died in her place, he would have. The night she came back, when everything had been so confusing and frightening, the quiet sound of his voice had comforted her. He had come to the house looking for Dawn, frantic at her sudden disappearance, and his shouting had startled Buffy at first. Once she'd realized who was downstairs, she'd had an urge to run to him, to tell him that she was alive. She'd seen the wonder in his eyes when he'd realized that it was not the robot standing before him. He had been as tender as she'd ever known him to be, kind and almost sweetly uncertain of his place with her. She hadn't wanted him to leave, but the others had all rushed in with frightened, worried faces, and he had gone before she could rouse herself to stop him. She had almost sent Dawn after him, but by the time everyone had gone home or to bed, she had been so unbearably tired that she fell asleep on the sofa. Life had slowly resumed it's natural course. She did her job at night and took care of her home and her sister during the day. She had also resumed her denial of wanting anything to do with Spike, but he'd been too persistent, dismantling her walls one at a time with casual flirtation and unexpected, passion- ate kisses. When the final brick in her defenses was removed, Spike had acted before she could slap it back in and seal it with the mortar of her insecurity and fear. When she'd finally caved in, they had beaten the mutual crap out of each other, as they'd done many times before. But it was different this time. There was an undercurrent of sexual arousal just barely beneath the surface of their anger. When she couldn't stand it anymore, she'd shoved him up against a crumbling plaster wall inside a broken down house, kissing him so hard that her lips felt bruised. He had been surprised, but he'd recovered quickly and had made violent love to her, standing up and holding her completely off the ground. The entire act had taken place in silence, save for their harsh panting and groaning, and the metallic sound of Spike's belt buckle and zipper. It had been hot and raw and fast, pure sex in it's most basic form, with no gentle touches and no fore- play. She had simply yanked her skirt up and moved her underpants to one side. Only a matter of moments passed before they had reached a powerful climax, grinding themselves into each other as their bodies exploded in the bliss of simultaneous orgasm. She'd lost count of how many times and ways they'd had each other during that long night, before their bodies said "ENOUGH, ALREADY!" and had put them to sleep. The next morning, Buffy had awakened to find that the building had almost come down around their ears without them noticing it. Asking him if he knew what had happened, she'd gotten a smart ass comment about it being sometime between their first encounter and their fourth....or maybe their twenty-fourth, who knew? She had muttered something under her breath about shoddy carpentry and how no one seemed to take pride in their work anymore, then had crawled back into the shelter of his arms. After another go-round, he had confessed to her that he'd always known the only thing more exciting than fighting with her, would be making love to her, a comment that had made her even more pliable in his arms. Once the initial barrier had been breached, there had been no holding them back. Their bodies, both long deprived of sexual release, had begun to rule their common sense, making them take ridiculous chances of being caught in the act. The closest they'd come to discovery had been in the basement of the Magic Box. Thinking about it still made her cheeks redden. She had been in the basement taking inventory, so completely bored that her teeth fell asleep. There were four or five customers upstairs, plus Xander, Willow and Anya. When she'd heard soft footsteps on the stairs, her skin had begun to tingle, telling her who was approach- ing. She hadn't turned around, or acknowledged his presence in any way, until she felt his arms wrapping around her waist. One hand had moved up the front of her body, taking the clipboard away from her and tossing it to one side. Her eyes had drifted shut when he'd whispered, "I want you now," as he'd lifted her skirt. When she'd felt him slip his fingers into the elastic of her underpants, her eyes had flown open and she'd cast a sidelong glance at the basement door. Trying to maintain a little control, she had whispered to him that they couldn't do it there, that someone might come. He had laughed softly, assuring her that someone WOULD come, there was no "might" about it. He'd then pushed his hand deeper between her legs. Buffy had grabbed his arm and tried to dislodge his hand, until he found the place that always made her scream, and massaged it firmly. The moment he'd touched her there, her head had dropped back against his chest, and she'd taken his other hand and placed it over her breast. As he'd fondled and squeezed her, she had reached behind her with one hand and caressed the hard bulge between his thighs. He had groaned softly, pushing her panties down and unzipping his fly to release his steel hard erection. Placing her hands flat on the wall to brace her, he'd pushed her legs farther apart, then positioned himself and penetrated her with agonizing slowness. Holding onto her hips, he had begun to thrust, slowly at first, then with increasing speed and depth. With his lips against her ear, he'd whispered to her about how tight and hot she was, how he wanted to pound into her until they were both senseless with pleasure, urging her to let herself go...to come...to do it for him. Fear of discovery had added an even fiercer urgency to the act, which only intensified the pleasure. Feeling the onset of her orgasm, he had clapped one hand over her mouth, then buried his face against the side of her neck, his teeth biting down gently. His free hand had moved back down between her legs to play with her clit, making her come at the same instant that he exploded inside of her. Moments later, as she stood panting with her cheek pressed against the wall, he had carefully withdrawn from her and adjusted his clothing. Leaning close, he had murmured, "Thank you, baby," then went back upstairs. She had finished the inventory with a idiotic smile on her face that no one understood.

Watching the heat build in her lover's eyes, Buffy smiled and fondled her breasts. Wetting her fingers in her mouth, she rolled and pinched the tight nipples between them. Spike stared at her, stroking his erection. "Put your hands under them," he ordered. "Lift them a little." She did as he asked, then pressed her breasts together, creating a deeper cleavage. "God, I love it when you do that," he said. "Makes me want to lay my dick between them and fuck them." Buffy felt a gush of wetness seep out of her at his words. "Yeah? Where else do you want to put it?" "Everywhere," he replied, licking his lips. "Your mouth, your pussy, all over your beautiful body." He grinned at her. "Put your hands between your legs." She complied. "And...?" "Play with your pussy...yeah, that's it...put your fingers in it...fuck, yes." His voice sounded almost reverent. Buffy parted her knees a little farther, moaning softly. "Are you very wet?" he asked. "Uh-huh...want to feel it?" "I will," he said. "But, not yet. Right now...I want you lie down and spread your legs." "But I'll have to move my hand," she complained teasingly. "Don't worry, you'll get it back. Come on, now." Without another word, she stretched out next to him and opened her legs. Spike moved down in the bed, until he was kneeling in the open V of her legs. Pushing his jeans down around his knees, he quickly yanked his shirt off and tossed it away. "Keep doing it." She moved her hands back down to play with her- self, while watching him pump his hand up and down his cock. The sight of what he was doing was beyond erotic, and it was making her pant like a kitten in the heat. "Faster," he ordered her. "Fuck yourself." She plunged her fingers in and out, rubbing her clit with her thumb. Keeping her gaze locked on his hand as he masturbated, she matched his rhythm. "Come on, baby," he encouraged. "Do it...come for me." "But...but what about you?" she asked dazedly. "Don't you worry about me," he said. "I've got other plans for me." Without breaking her rhythm, she said, "I hope they include me, baby." "Always." Keeping her one hand moving at a steady pace, Buffy raised the other to her breasts and continued caressing them, pretending it was his hand on her body. "That's my girl," he grunted, rubbing himself a little harder. "You know what you like, don't you?" "Mm-hmm." "God...you're so wet. I can see it running down the inside of your thighs...so fucking juicy." "Spike..." she panted. "So wet and hot...are your fingers all sticky?" "....yes...oh, yes...." "You want to come?" "Yes...I..." "Harder then...faster. Pretend it's my cock inside you...sliding in and out...can you feel it?" She nodded. "I...I feel...you..." "Good girl...my sweet little girl...keep playing with your tits...don't stop now." The world around her suddenly shattered, and her body lunged up from the bed as a violent orgasm thundered through her. Spike watched avidly. He enjoyed nothing better than the look on her face when she came, and the content that dropped over her features when it had played itself out. But his own situation was becoming almost painful. His erection felt like a steel bar, and if he didn't get some relief soon, he'd surely die. Buffy could see it, and she held out her arms to him. "Now, YOU fuck me," she said, inviting him into her body. Spike fell forward into her embrace. Without even trying, he aligned himself at the exact place he needed to be and slammed his hips down and his cock in. Buffy sucked in a ragged breath. No matter how many times they made love, in whatever position or location they chose, there was something very special about the feeling of his body lying on top of hers, in the bed they shared every night. She felt complete as a woman at those times, taking and being taken, giving and receiving...and loving more than she'd ever dreamed possible. His hips rose and fell as he worked over her. With his face buried against the side of her neck, all she could hear were the soft grunts and groans of pleasure coming from him. It made her heart swell to know that she was the woman who could bring him to this state. The beau- tiful, other worldly creature in her arms belonged only to her, and there was nothing she wouldn't do for him. He was thrusting fast and deep, whispering words of love and lust directly into her ear. "Baby, baby, baby," he moaned. "Feels so good...so bloody wonderful...make it tighter...oh, fuck yes... more...a little more...mmmm...you're mine, Buffy... you're all mine...." Planting her feet flat on the mattress, she raised her hips and met each thrust, releasing a soft cry every time he rammed himself inside of her. When he changed his rhythm and moved his pelvis from side to side, she nearly screamed at the renewed sensations as he touched places inside of her that no other man ever had. "Ahh...ahh, God...fucking hell...I'm...I'm gonna come, baby...you're making me come...so hard..." "Do it," she implored. "Please, baby...do it to me..." "Buffy...." "Yes...." "I'm...I'm so close..." "Come on...I want you to..." "Baby..." "Now?" "Yes...yes...now...now...NOW...NOW...AHHH!!" "Spike...." She dug her nails into his rear, making him stay completely still as he emptied every drop of his semen into her willing body. She could feel it spewing into her, his cock spasming as it ejaculated. "Oh...oh...bloody hell...that was...that was just...." "Amazing?" she asked, hugging him fiercely. "Beyond amazing, love. Phenomenal, I'd say." "I love you." "Love you, too, kitten. Love you, too...." ~~~~~ Leaning against a tree on the opposite side of the street, Angel watched as the light was turned out in the upstairs bedroom of Buffy's house. As he stood there, he couldn't help wondering why his life had gone so wrong, and Spike's was going so right. He was so deeply immersed in his brooding thoughts that he nearly missed the sound of a door opening and closing. Looking up, he saw his demon spawn crossing the street and heading straight for him. "What the fuck are YOU doing here, Angel?"

For a moment, Angel didn't know what to say. He couldn't ever remember seeing Spike so pissed off, and he'd seen Spike pissed off plenty in their past. "You want to answer the bloody question, soul man?" Spike went on. "Why the fuck are you hanging around outside my house in the fucking middle of the night?" "I didn't..." Angel began, but Spike cut him off. "Why the hell are you even in town?" he demanded. "You've got no business here anymore." Without even being aware that he did it, Angel cast a longing glance across the street at Buffy's darkened house. Spike intercepted the look. "Oh, you can't be serious," he said. "Tell me you're not standing out here mooning over the slayer." Stung, Angel glared at his offspring. "I'm not mooning over anyone, Spike. I just happened to be in the area..." "And you thought you'd drop in and look up an old friend?" Spike finished the sentence. "How bloody nice." Angel was starting to feel his own anger begin to rise. "Look, I didn't even..." "Except...you DIDN'T drop in, did you?" Spike asked sarcast- ically. "You hung around outside spying on us." "I wasn't spying!" Angel yelled. "And since when is this YOUR house?" he asked, pointing across the street. "Last I heard, this is Buffy's house." Spike grinned. This was gonna feel so good. "Well, you've been out of the loop for a while, peaches. Fact is...I live here WITH Buffy. Slayer belongs to ME now, Angel. YOU'RE yesterday's news!" "BELONGS to you?" Angel challenged. "I'm sure she'd love to hear you say that. You make her sound like a used car." "Fuck you!" Spike snapped. "She belongs to me and I belong to her! That's how it is when you love someone, when you love them proper. It's not all hearts and flowers, you stupid git. It's heat and desire, and it's possession and jealousy and passion!" "I KNOW what love is!" Angel countered. "I loved her before you even knew she existed." Spike laughed. "You call what you felt for her LOVE? That washed out, 'pure and chaste from afar' crap? Couldn't love her right, couldn't kiss her, couldn't even get too close to her, could you? Didn't love her enough to control your own fucking demon, did you?" Angel clenched his fists. The things Spike was saying were all the more galling because they were true. "And I'll you something else about real love," Spike added. "It's not giving up and running away. It's staying and fighting, and NEVER...fucking...quitting! You," he sneered. "You're not the long haul guy and you never will be. But, I am. I'll be standing next to her until the day she dies, and when THAT day comes, I'll sit beside her grave and wait for the sun to come up!" "Spike...stop shouting." Both men turned, surprised to see Buffy standing less than ten feet away from them. Wrapping her sweater tighter around her, she joined them by the tree. "Angel. Hi," she said briefly, then turned to Spike. "I want to talk to him, okay? I'll be in soon." Spike glared at Angel, then looked down at Buffy and nodded. "I WILL be home in a few minutes," she repeated, wanting to reassure him. "I know you will," he said simply, not in the least bit uncertain, completely secure in her love. Dropping a light kiss on her lips, he walked off without another word to Angel. When the front door of the house closed behind him, Buffy sighed, then turned to confront her first love.

Buffy sat down on the curb, patting the space beside her. When Angel joined her, she looked at him and tried to gather her thoughts. "Before we get started," she said, "I want to say that if you lead off with the "Spike doesn't have a soul so how can he love you?" lecture...I'm gonna let you have it." "Buffy..." "I mean it, Angel," she insisted. "That whole concept is so old it has mildew growing on it...and it isn't true." He stared at the ground between his feet. When he didn't speak, Buffy broke the silence herself. "Why are you here? I don't mean why are you here at my house...but why are you in Sunnydale?" Angel shrugged. "I was nearby, so I thought I'd stop in and see how you're doing." The excuse sounded lame, even to his own ears. "Then why didn't you knock on the door?" she asked. "That's the preferred method for stopping by to see how someone's doing." He turned and looked at her. "Yeah, well...I was still debating it, but...then I saw you and Spike, and I decided not to." "Saw us?" Buffy asked sharply. "Where did you see us? You didn't climb that tree...did you?" She gestured towards the tree outside her bedroom window. "Of course not," Angel said, shaking his head. "I saw you at the cemetery...earlier." "You saw us fighting?" "Yeah, and..." "Kissing?" He didn't reply, but the look on his face said everything. Buffy was briefly glad that she and Spike hadn't given in to the temptation of making love in the cemetery. Just the IDEA of someone witnessing anything so personal felt like a violation. "I'm sorry that you had to find out that way." "So am I," he said. "Why didn't you tell me?" She leveled a direct gaze on him. "Because it's none of your business." The comment obviously pained him, but Buffy refused to coddle him. Angel had facts to face, and the sooner he faced them, the better off he'd be. "This is MY place in the world. Los Angeles is yours. You told me that once...remember?" "I know," he said. "I...I thought it was true." Buffy sighed. "It IS true. It's just as true now as it was the day you said it. Maybe even more so." Angel was silent for a long moment, then looked away. "You said once...that you'd always be my girl." "I know I did." "But...you're not, are you? You're...you're his now." His voice was low and had a touch of bitterness in it's tone. Buffy nodded. "I AM his now. But, I'm not a girl anymore, Angel. I'm a woman, and I've been through things that changed me more than just getting older did. Spike stood right beside me for every second of it. He held me up when I couldn't do it myself." He seemed about to cut and run...his standard form of emotional defense...so she placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him where he was. This was GOING to be said, and she would make him listen. "Angel...we weren't meant to be. If we had been, everything wouldn't have been so impossible for us." "So, you're telling me that you and Spike are 'meant to be' ?" he asked, with a disbelieving laugh. "Yeah," Buffy said firmly. "That's what I'm telling you. And you have to accept it." "I don't know if I can." "I'm not giving you a choice, Angel." She took a deep breath. "You need to go back to Los Angeles...and stay there. Don't come back." He turned stunned eyes on her. "Don't come back?" he echoed. "Buffy...even if we're nothing else...we're still friends, aren't we?" "In a way." "Then don't tell me not to come back...or not to call you some- time. You don't let HIM decide who you can and can't be friends with...do you?" "No," she said slowly. "He'd never even try and decide something like that for me. He loves me, and he trusts me." "Then why..." "Because," she cut him off. "It hurts him. Somewhere deep down inside of him, in a place he'd never admit...it hurts him. And I won't do that to him. I've hurt him enough in the past, I will NOT do it anymore. Certainly not for you." He sat and stared at her, internalizing her words and the feelings behind them. "God, Buffy," he finally said. "How did we get here?" She shrugged. "Life brought us here. Fate, design...whatever you want to call it. But, I like where I am...and I'm not changing it. This town...that house," she pointed to it, "and that man...are my life." Buffy stood up and brushed off the seat of her pants. "And now...I have to get back to it. To my life. And so do you." Angel rose to his feet, and moved close to her. He was shocked when she immediately moved back. "This is goodbye?" She nodded. "This is goodbye," she said. "If...if you really need my help for something...you can call. But...make sure you need it...I'm talking 'world in peril' stuff...and WE will be there. Other- wise," she added. "Deal with it yourself." Buffy could tell, just by looking at him, that he'd be brooding over this for days, possibly weeks, and she was fiercely glad that it was no longer her problem to figure out what was bothering him and try to fix it. She allowed him a brief hug, but when he tried to kiss her good- bye, she stepped away. "Don't," she said quietly. She didn't refuse the kiss because she was afraid that Spike might see and react badly, but because she simply didn't want Angel to kiss her. Ever again. Watching as he walked a few hundred yards down the street, and climbed into his car, she felt a sense of relief and urgency to get home. Turning on one heel, she ran across the street and up the path to her front door...and to her future, who was waiting for her in their bed. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "All done, then, luv?" "Very much all done." "Good." "Spike?" "Hmmm?" "I love you." "I know." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~The End~