~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part One...

The slayer walked into the Bronze and scanned the room. Spotting her friends at a table close to the dance floor, she made her way towards them.

"Hi!" Willow smiled and nudged out an empty chair. "Look at you!"

Buffy knew she looked good tonight. She'd worked to make herself that way.

Her new dress fell to just a little above her her knees, and swished against her legs when she walked. The silky material flared out when she spun in front of her mirror. The bodice of the dress was form fitting, and had a collar of lace that embraced her creamy throat. There were no straps and her back was completely bare to the waist.

The dress was held in place by nothing but the lace collar, and she loved it. Every part of it, the fabric, the design...all of it was so completely feminine.

But she loved the color best of all, a rich, deep, ruby red that complimented her light summer
tan.

She had spent a lot of time on her make-up, as well, going for a more dramatic look than
usual. She'd applied a dark copper shadow on her eyelids, then underlined her eyes with a deep
brown liner. Several sweeps of her mascara brush lengthened her lashes, making them a lush, dark frame for her green eyes.

On her face she had used just a touch of rose blush, but her lips were painted a deep crimson, with a little gloss on them to make them moist and sensual.

She'd curled her hair, and it tumbled down over her shoulders and around her face in shining
waves. Her mother had given her a set of antique side combs set with garnets for her 18th
birthday, and she had slid them into her hairon either side, pulling it back to expose her ruby
teardrop earrings.

Her legs were sheathed in sheer stockings, held in place by a red garter belt. She had
found a pair of high heeled sandals the same color of her dress, that gave her a little added
height, and she'd finished up with a coat of crimson polish on her nails.

The admiration in the eyes of the men she passed by in the club told her that her efforts
tonight were well appreciated.

"So, why all fancy tonight?" Willow asked. "Who are you out to impress?"

"Nobody at all," Buffy replied, smiling. "I just felt like being a girly-girl tonight."

"Well, you succeeded," Xander put in. "You are the girliest girl here," he added, wiggling
his eyebrows playfully.

"You really do look beautiful, Buffy." Tara usually sat so quietly beside Willow that she was sometimes overlooked by the others, so when she did speak up, it was always a bit of a surprise.

"Thank you," Buffy said. "So do you...and you," she said, looking at Willow.

Xander cleared his throat, and Buffy looked him up and down. "Anya's still out of town isn't she?"

"Is that some sort of comment regarding my wardrobe?" he asked.

Buffy laughed. "Well, how long has it been since you've worn that shirt? You must be scraping the bottom of your dresser drawers for clean clothes."

"I think I'm insulted," he huffed.

"Why don't you just take some things down to the laundry room?" Willow asked. "It's not that hard to do."

"We have a laundry room?" Xander asked.

"Oh, for.." Buffy rolled her eyes. "Xander, do your self a huge favor and don't ever let Anya get away. You'll never survive on your own."

The four of them sat making small talk about school and jobs, until Xander looked
across the room. "Spike's here," he reported.

Buffy sighed. "God, he never gives up, does he?"

"Actually, I thought he had," Willow said. "I mean, he hasn't come by your house in ages, has he? I know that I haven't seen him around." She took a sip of her drink, then looked at Buffy. "Have you run into him while you're patrolling?"

Buffy paused. "Now that you mention it..no."

"See," Willow shrugged. "I think he's over you."

Buffy frowned. "Yeah..I guess so. Well...that's good," she added. "About time."

"A guy can only take so much rejection," Xander said. "And speaking of rejection..."

"Hello, children." Spike's voice was smooth and friendly...and distant. "Having fun?"

"Oh, sure...lot's of fun," Willow said. "Can't remember when we've had so much fun. Right?"
She glanced at Buffy for confirmation.

"Right," Buffy agreed. "Fun."

"That's good." He smiled and turned to leave.

"What are YOU doing tonight?" Buffy asked.

Everyone at the table stared at her.

Spike stopped and turned. "I'm sorry..were you speaking to me?"

"Just..just making conversation."

"I see. Well..I'm waiting for someone."

"Wow, Spike's got a date," Xander put in. "Alive or dead?"

"Very funny," Spike replied, in the tone that adults use when speaking to a marginally amusing child.

There was a brief silence, then Willow asked, "Spike, what do you think of Buffy's new dress?"

Buffy stared at her friend, mouth slightly open. "Willow...I don't think..."

"A new dress, hmm?" Spike interrupted, looking her up and down in a way that made Buffy blush. "You look very..nice, Slayer."

Buffy, who had been bracing herself for a suggestive remark, found instead that she was a little disappointed by his lukewarm reaction.

**Nice? That's the best you can do...nice?**

"Gee, thanks," she murmured.

"You're welcome," he replied, glancing distractedly around the room, as though he hadn't
really been paying attention. "Have fun, children." He acknowledged them with a slight nod
of his head and moved off into the crowd.

Buffy watched as he found an empty table and flirted briefly with a waitress, who looked
awfully interested in continuing their encounter.

She glanced at a few tables close to his and noted the reaction of the girls sitting at them...and one or two of the boys as well.

Then, he stood up and shed his coat, tossing it over the back of another chair...and Buffy was
literally tongue-tied.

He was minus the usual black t-shirt tonight, wearing instead a gorgeous black silk dress shirt, tucked into a pair of snug leather pants.

The shirt was open collared, with laces in the front that he hadn't bothered to tie. The sleeves were a little full, with french cuffs held together by a pair of onyx and gold cufflinks.

Buffy thought he looked almost piratical, and on another man it would have looked strange. On
Spike...it looked ...

"Damn sexy." She saw the others staring at her and realized she must have spoken out loud.
Her cheeks turned scarlet as she stared down at the table.

After an awkward silence, Xander stood up.

"Ladies," he said, glancing at each girl in turn. "Who feels like dancing?"

"Me, me!" Willow piped up. "I feel."

He took her hand and pulled her to her feet, then extended his other hand to Tara. "You, too," he said. "I want all the guys to see me dancing with the two loveliest ladies in the room...unless you'll make it three," he added, looking at Buffy.

Buffy shook her head, and promised him a rain check. She sat and watched them dance, smiling at Xander's less than graceful style on the floor. He flailed his arms a little too much, and never really picked up the beat of the music.

**They're having fun. Does it matter how you look as long as you're having fun?"**

"Someone should tell that boy not to dance."

Buffy was briefly startled to find Spike standing beside her chair.

"He's gonna hurt himself," Spike continued, then looked down at Buffy. "Why aren't you out there with them, Slayer? If I remember correctly, you dance quite well."

"I just don't feel like it right now," she said curtly. "I'll get around to it later."

The others returned to the table, breathing hard. "That's a work out," Willow said, dropping into her chair.

"Interesting dance technique," Spike said to Xander. "You must take lessons to achieve THAT level of skill."

"I don't notice YOU out there," Xander grumbled. "But then again, they were probably
dancing the minuet back when you learned to dance."

Spike shrugged, his hands in his pockets. "Oh, I've picked up a little here and there over the past century or so."

"You think you're better than me?"

Spike shrugged. "I could hardly be worse."

He looked down at Buffy with an intent gaze that forced her to meet his eyes. They stared
silently at each other for a few seconds, then, without a word, he extended his hand to her,
palm up.

With absolutely no idea why she was doing it, Buffy placed her hand in his and rose to her
feet.

Walking backwards, Spike led her to the dance floor just as the tempo of the music became slow and sultry, strummed on a spanish sounding guitar. A song from a movie she vaguely remembered.


"To really love a woman,
To understand her
You got to know her deep inside
Hear every thought
See every dream
And give her wings when she wants
to fly..."



He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, then placed her arm around his neck, never breaking eye contact.


"Then when you find yourself lying
helpless in her arms,
You know you really love a woman.."



He moved her to the slow beat of the music, moving his hips against hers in an intimate way. Buffy's eyes widened with surprise, but she couldn't look away from the intent blue gaze he leveled on her.


"When you love a woman, you tell her
that she's really wanted..
When you love a woman, you tell her
that she's the one..
She needs somebody to tell her that
it's going to last forever..
So, tell me have you ever really,
really, really ever loved a woman..?"



Tightening his arm around her waist, he suddenly tilted her upper body backwards. The only contact they had was from the waist down. Buffy let her head drop back and her eyes drift shut.


"To really love a woman
Let her hold you
Till you know how she needs to be
touched
You've got to breathe her
Really taste her
Till you can feel her in your blood"



He pulled her back up, and pressed his body full length against hers, placing his hands on her sides, and slowly moving them up and down in an erotic caress she felt from top to bottom.



"And when you can see your unborn
children in her eyes
You know you really love a woman
When you love a woman, you tell her
that she's really wanted..
When you love a woman, you tell her
that she's the one..
Cos, she needs somebody to tell her
that you'll always be together
So, tell me have you ever really,
really, really loved a woman..?"



Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she realized that the dance floor had emptied as the other couples moved off to the sides to watch them.

Spike took her hand, and spun her away from him, then pulled her back quickly, making her skirt flare out.

He wrapped one arm tightly around her waist, and bent her back over it so far that her hair nearly touched the floor.


"You got to give her some faith
Hold her tight
A little tenderness
Got to treat her right
She will be there for you
Taking good care of you
You really got to love your woman.."



He held her in the dip for several moments, the pulled her back up rapidly and molded himself against her. One hand moved down her side and slid beneath her thigh, lifting it and allowing him to step more firmly between her legs.

Staring into her eyes, he jerked her even closer to him, lightly grinding his pelvis against hers.



"Then when you find yourself lying
helpless in her arms
You know you really love a woman"



He moved one hand up her back and under
her hair, lifting it and then releasing it to
fall down her shoulders again. Leaning forward,
he brushed his cheek against her temple,
inhaling her scent.

When he pulled back, he did it slowly, letting his cheek press against hers.


"When you love a woman, you tell
her that she's really wanted..
When you love a woman, you tell
her that she's the one..
She needs somebody to tell her
that it's going to last forever..
So, tell me have you ever really,
really, really ever loved a woman..?"



Turning her, he kept her close to him with his arm around her waist, then dropped his head and nuzzled the soft skin of her shoulder.

It was just as well he knew what he was doing, because she was helpless in his embrace.

His hands moved down her arms to find hers, then raised them until she placed her arms around his neck. His fingers glided back down her arms to lay on either side of her waist.



"Just tell me have you ever really,
really, really, ever loved a woman.."



They ended the dance gazing into each others eyes, until Buffy became aware that the song had ended.

The band, who had been watching them as intently as evryone else, paused for a moment, then began a new song, a faster one.

Spike let his hands leave her waist. Taking her hand, he led her back to the table.

He seated her gracefully, then glanced at Xander.

"THAT..is what 120 years of experience can do." He recaptured Buffy's hand and raised
it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on it. "Thank you for the dance, luv."

He returned to his table, leaving everyone staring with open mouths and glazed eyes as he walked away.

Buffy sat immobile, half hypnotized by the wholly erotic experience she'd just had.

When she worked up the nerve to look in Spike's direction, she was vaguely annoyed to see two girls approach his table and begin a conversation with him.

"I haven't seen anything like that since...well, I've NEVER seen anything like that," Willow
said, turning to Buffy with amazed eyes. "Wow."

**Yeah....wow!**

"Buffy?" Xander waved his hand in front of her eyes, snapping his fingers. "You okay in there?"

"What?" She turned to him, irritated. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be...fine?"

"No reason..no reason at all for any unfineness," he said. "Don't get hostile. Please."

"Sorry," she muttered. "I'm all right...really. Is it hot in here?" she asked, looking at Willow.

Willow hesitated. "Uh...well, a little...I guess. I mean...you WERE dancing...and all."

Buffy stood up and grabbed her purse. "I'm going to the ladies room. Will you order me
something cold to drink?"

"Sure."

Buffy crossed the room, neatly avoiding the waitresses darting in and out of the crowd.

She had to walk by the table where Spike was sitting, and she frowned when she saw
that the girls she'd noticed before were seated at the table with him, giggling and flirting.

**Nice way to behave in public.**

Telling herself that she couldn't possibly give less of a damn WHO he was talking and laughing with, she kept her eyes on the door to the ladies room.

Staring at herself in the mirror for a moment, she brushed her hair and refreshed her lipstick.

The hand towel dispenser was empty, so she went into one of the stalls and pulled off a length of toilet paper, using it to dab at the light sheen of perspiration at her hairline.

The restroom door opened, and Buffy glanced at the mirror, seeing the girls Spike had been talking to.

They stationed themselves at the mirror, and Buffy pushed the stall door closed to listen to them talk.

"Oh, my GOD!" one of them said. "That man is sex on wheels!"

"Tell me something I don't know," the other replied. "Have you EVER seen eyes like that? Outside of your fantasies, that is?"

"You know..normally I wouldn't give the time of day to a guy in leather pants, but that one
shouldn't wear anything BUT leather...tight leather."

"And that accent...we are talking major hottie."

"Oh, yeah. And I want him so bad it hurts."

Buffy rolled her eyes.

"So, what d'ya think about that girl he was dancing with? You think there's a "thing" there?"

The slayer's ears perked up.

"Oh, PLEASE...little Miss Red Dress?"

Buffy clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms.

"I don't know. They looked pretty...intense."

"Mmmm...well, if there WAS a thing...I'll take care of it..and her. Does my hair look all right?"

"Yeah, its great. Hurry, before he leaves."

Buffy stayed in the stall until she heard the door swing closed. When she came out, she caught
a glimpse of herself in the mirror, and wasn't surprised at the look on her face, since it confirmed exactly what she was feeling.

She wanted to punch something. Or someone. Really hard.

**Little Miss Red Dress? YOU'RE gonna take care of ME are you? You don't know who you're dealing with. You so much as even LOOK like you're gonna cross me and you're gonna wake up with a crowd around you!**

She pulled out her brush again and brushed her hair from beneath to make it fuller, and slightly wild looking.

Her make-up was fine, but she wanted something extra, so she fished around in her purse
until she found the tiny bottle of perfume that she'd impulsively tossed in before she'd left home.

Placing a drop behind each ear, and on her pulse points, she smiled at herself, pleased with the
results. "You want to take on the slayer? Then take your best shot. I guarantee you, it won't be good enough."

She pushed open the restroom door and scanned the room, surprised and a little disappointed to see that neither Spike nor his admirers were at their table.

**What did he do...take them both home with him?**

Buffy jerked slightly, when she felt an arm slide around her waist from behind, and a familiar voice speak softly in her ear.

"I lied before. When I told you that you look nice tonight."

She swallowed hard. "You did?"

"Mm-hmm. You don't look nice. You look breathtaking."

"Thank you," she said, turning to look up at him.

"Red is my favorite color," Spike added, smiling at her. "The color of..."

"Blood?" she asked tartly.

He chuckled softly. "Well, yes...there IS that. But, I was about to say it's the color of passion, the color of love." He lifted one hand and smoothed a lock of her hair. "It's definitely YOUR best color, sweetheart. Especially," he placed one finger beneath her chin and tilted her face up, "on your lips."

Spike lowered his head, until their lips nearly touched. Buffy could feel her eyes beginning to close, and wondered why she was behaving this way.

A burst of laughter from a few feet away startled her out of her erotic daze. Shaking her head, she pulled away. "I..I should go."

Spike pulled her back, turning her and urging her down the short corrider and into a darkened
corner.

"No," he said firmly. Shaking his head and pushing her gently against the wall, he placed his
hands on it, palms down, one on each of her head.

Buffy stared, wide eyed. "Spike..."

"We've had this date for a long time, luv," he whispered, leaning closer and pressing his
lips against her hair. "God, you smell wonderful."

She was trying desperately to maintain some kind of control of herself, but her head was
spinning and she felt a little dizzy...and a little reckless.

Lifting her hands, she placed them on his shoulders. "What about your...girlfriends?"

"I don't have girlfriends, luv. I'm strictly a one woman man." He bent his head until their
mouths once again almost made contact. "You're SO beautiful," he murmured.

Buffy made a soft noise in her throat, her hands sliding down his outstretched arms.

"You don't really think those stupid girls could ever BEGIN to compare to you...do you?"

She dug her nails into his biceps. "Please.."

"Please what, sweetheart?" His lips traveled across her cheek and lingered close to her ear. "Do you want me to stop?"

"Yes..no..oh, I don't know." She was breathing hard as she tilted her head to one side.

"Maybe," he whispered. "I can help you make up your mind."

He took his hands off the wall and moved them down her arms until he found hers, then lifted them back to their position on the wall, lacing his fingers with hers.

He looked into her eyes. "Can I kiss you?"

Buffy's heart was racing like a runaway pony. "If you want to." She closed her eyes and moistened her lips, waiting.

"Christ," he almost groaned. "Buffy...sweetheart...open your mouth."

Her lips parted, and she gasped as he covered her mouth with his. He didn't start slowly, but
went at her with a fierce passion.

Spike untangled his fingers from hers, and placed her hands on his shoulders again. Sliding one hand behind her neck, he held her firmly in place as his mouth moved against hers.

Buffy broke away from the kiss. "No..no, this is wrong."

"No, it isn't This has been coming from the very beginning..from the moment I saw you, right
here in this club. You were dancing with your friends...and I thought that you were the sexiest
thing I'd ever seen. I wanted to dance with you."

She shook her head. "We shouldn't do this."

"But, we're going to," he said. Pulling her roughly away from the wall she'd been depending on to prop her up, Spike wrapped his arms around her and kissed her again.

Buffy surrendered without firing a shot. She pressed her body more firmly against his and began
to return his kiss with a passion of her own.

She felt trapped, and set free, both at the same time.

Spike tore his mouth away. "Buffy..let's leave. I want to be alone with you."

"We can't," she said, trying to clear her fuzzy head. "The others are..."

"Say, yes," he demanded.

"They're waiting for me."

"Say...yes."

"But.." She broke off with a soft cry as he pressed his hips against hers.

"Yes, Buffy...say it! Say, yes, and I'll show you things you never dreamed of."

"Spike..."

"Say YES, damn it! Say..."

"Yes," she nearly screamed it. Grabbing the back of his head, she yanked him forward and ground her mouth against his.

Moments passed as they kissed feverishly, hands exploring each other with urgent need.

Spike suddenly broke the kiss and stared at her from eyes hot with desire. "My motorcycle is outside," he said hoarsely, taking her hand and tugging her towards the exit.

"Yes...no...wait! I have to tell them I'm leaving."

"We'll call them from your place. Buffy..."

She eluded his grasp. 'I'll meet you outside," she said, turning away.

She hadn't gotten more than two feet when Spike grabbed her arm and stopped her, swinging her around to face him.

"Listen to me," he said, locking her gaze with his. "If you don't come...I WILL come in and get you," he warned her. "If I have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you out, kicking and screaming."

"I'll come," she promised. "I will."

He kissed her hard on the mouth. "Hurry."

Buffy watched him walk out, then went to tell her friends that she was going home.

Taking a deep breath, she manufactured a weary smile. "Listen, guys...I think I'm gonna head on home."

"How come?" Willow asked. "It's still early."

"I know, but..I'm a little tired. All that dancing just wore me out."

"ONE dance wore you out?" Xander frowned doubtfully.

Buffy stared him down. "Yes," she said defiantly. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Before any of them could say goodbye, she turned and walked out the door, wondering just what in the hell she thought she was doing.

Spike stood next to his Harley, his eyes on the door..waiting.

Buffy summoned up every scrap of nerve at her command, and walked over to him.

"Told you so," she said.

"I'm sorry I doubted you, luv." He swung one leg over the saddle of the motorcycle, turned the key, and kickstarted the engine.

"You ready?" he asked, extending one hand.

"I'm ready." Buffy gave him her hand and climbed on back of the Harley, tucking the skirt of her dress beneath her legs.

"Hold on, luv."

She slipped her arms around his waist as Spike wheeled the bike around, then roared out of the parking lot.

Buffy had never been on a motorcycle, and before they were even a mile down the road, she knew that she liked it.

The speed and the freedom excited her. Spike handled the machine so expertly that she wasn't the slightest bit afraid.

He stopped at a red light, and turned to look at her. "Having fun?"

"Uh-huh," Buffy nodded. "Go faster."

"Anything my lady wants." The light turned green, and Spike gunned the engine, making the tires squeal as they shot out into the warm summer night.

TBC.....

~Have You Ever Really Loved A Woman~

Written by Bryan Adams, M Kamen,
and RJ Lange for the Motion Picture
'Don Juan de Marco'

*************************************

Part Two....


Ten minutes later, Spike pulled into the driveway of Buffy's house. He shut off the engine and climbed off the motorcycle, then placed his hands on Buffy's waist and lifted her off, as well.

She was smiling hugely. "THAT was fun."

He smiled at her childlike enthusiasm. "Be a good girl and I'll take you for a nice long ride some fine evening."

Still exhilarated by the ride, Buffy was feeling flirtatious. "I'm always a good girl," she said, tossing her hair out of her eyes.

Spike's own eyes sparkled with appreciation of her sassy demeanor. "Do tell," he murmured, following her as she backed away.

Buffy unlocked the door and stepped inside, then turned to see him still standing on the porch, waiting.

"Oh, dear," she said teasingly. "Did you want to come in, too?"

Spike narrowed his eyes, prepared to let her play, but only just as long as he was amused by it.

"I want to come IN, all right," he said. "Now, say the magic words, darling."

"Ummm...abracadabra?" she offered, innocently as she kicked off her sandals.

"No. Try again." Spike placed his hands on either side of the door frame.

"Gee...how about...open sesame!" Her handbag landed on the sofa.

"Wrong again, luv."

"Well, I'm running out of magic phrases," she admitted, reaching under her skirt to unclip her stockings.

When he saw what she was doing, he shook his head. "Don't you dare."

"What?" she asked.

He gestured at her legs. "I want to do that, take your stockings off."

Buffy felt her heart skip at least three beats. How could such a simple sentence sound so...deliciously sexy?

Spike could hear her pulse quicken, and easily picked up the scent of feminine arousal. "Play time's over, darling," he said firmly. "Let me in."

She licked her lips, and tilted her head a little to one side. "Would you like to come in....Spike?"

Without a word, he crossed the threshold and reached for her.

She came into his arms with an eagerness that pleased him. He kissed her long and hard on the mouth, then cupped her face in his hands and covered it with brief kisses.

Buffy moaned softly, tipping her head back as his mouth trailed wetly down her heated skin, dampening the lace collar of her dress.

The sounds she was making were driving him wild. "Buffy," he whispered against her throat. "God, baby...you're so soft. So sweet."

"More," she panted. "Don't stop."

"I won't. I'll never stop. I'm gonna make it so good for you, baby. All for you..."

He picked her up and carried her upstairs, almost stumbling at the feel of her warm breath against his ear.

Spike paused at the door to her bedroom. "Dawn?" he asked, realizing that this was a fine time to be thinking about that. Even if she was home, nothing was going to stop him.

But Buffy shook her head. "She's spending the weekend with a friend. They're all going camping..somewhere."

"ALL weekend?" he asked, stepping into her room.

"Mm-hmm. She'll be back...Sunday night," Buffy replied, laying the palm of her hand on his cheek and turning his face to kiss him.

Spike set her on her feet, without losing contact with her mouth. When he did finally pull back, he turned her until her back was to him.

Tugging the combs out of her hair, he laid them on the vanity, then gathered the length of it up and draped it over one shoulder.

After laying a gentle kiss on the nape of her neck, he began to undo the three tiny red buttons that fastened the collar of her dress.

Buffy closed her eyes when she felt his mouth on her bare skin. Her knees trembled, and he urged her back until she was leaning against him.

Slowly, Spike peeled the red silk away from her hyper-sensitized skin. His own knees almost failed him when she reached for his hands and moved them up her body, until they were cradling her breasts.

He squeezed the heavy mounds, then swept his thumbs back and forth over their hard
nipples, loving the way her breathing escalated at his touch.

"Do you like that?" he whispered in her ear.

"Yes," she panted. "God...yes."

"You want more?"

"Yes, please," she begged, sounding like a little girl asking politely for ice cream.

"You're sweet," he said, turning her to face him. "I have to taste you."

Cupping his hand beneath one breast, he lifted it and lowered his head to lick the tight peak.

Buffy hissed with pleasure, placing one hand on the back of his head.

"Here, too," she whispered, urging him to her other breast.

He spread moist kisses on her flesh, rubbing his cheek against it.

"Spike...please."

He felt a rush of possessive pride at the sound of his name on her lips. Smiling, he took her into his mouth, sucking hard.

Buffy dug her fingers into his hair as Spike began to move her backwards until she was up against the bed. He lowered her slowly onto her back, never taking his mouth from her breast.

Her upper body was prone on the bed, and her legs hung over the side. Spike sank to his knees and lifted the skirt of her dress.

The sight of the red garter belt holding up her stockings drove him wild with lust. He unclipped them carefully, then drew them down her legs and off, dropping them on the floor.

The garter belt itself came off next, leaving her in nothing more than a lacy pair of red underpants. He hooked his fingers in the sides of the material and pulled on them.

Buffy watched as he removed her panties, hypnotized, as he raised the delicate fabric to his cheek and rubbed it against his skin.

Spike looked down at her with hot, knowing eyes. "They're wet," he murmured.

She held out her arms. "Come here."

Tossing her panties aside, he fell into her outstretched arms.

"Buffy...baby. I love you, my baby...love you so much." he babbled, covering her face with kisses as he spoke the words he had waited so long to say.

Somewhere in the lake of passion she was currently drowning in, Buffy heard him. As his mouth moved down her throat, she tried to clear her head.

**No, wait...something's wrong...he's not supposed to love me...it's wrong, it's so wrong...but...but it feels so good..**

She knew it was good now, for them both. But, how long would it last? How could it, being what they both were?

Spike sensed the change in her immediately. Her body tensed slightly, was no longer so completely welcoming.

He knew what he had done wrong, and he could have bitten off his tongue.

Trying to smooth over his mistake, he held her face between his hands and kissed her.

She allowed him to do it, but his heart sank when he felt her hands splayed over his chest, knowing that she was about to push him away.

He moved back, staring down into her eyes, hating the uncertainty he saw.

It was as effective as a bucket of ice water.

"Buffy...please don't be upset. I..I didn't mean..."

"You didn't mean what you said?" she asked. "Or you didn't mean to say it?"

Spike sat up and moved off the bed. Placing both hands on the wall, he closed his eyes and tried to calm both his raging emotions and his frustrated body.

"Which is it?" Buffy sat up and refastened her dress. "Tell me."

He knew it was finished. He had over played his hand, and she was about to shut him out permanently.

Steeling himself, he turned to face her. If he was going to go down, he was damned if he would do it with a lie.

"I didn't mean to say it..yet." He straightened his shoulders. "But I do love you, Buffy, and I'm not gonna pretend that I don't."

Buffy curled up her legs beneath her, and huddled against the headboard."I thought that...I knew that you..."

"Wanted you?"

"I...I figured it was...you know.."

"Physical attraction?" He shrugged. "My taste for forbidden fruit?"

Buffy was silent, staring at her hands.

"Well, I can't deny it, luv. I AM physically attracted. And you...you're the most forbidden fruit there is. Ripe and juicy...and sweet."

"Spike.."

"Let me finish." He crossed the room and sat down next to her on the bed. He didn't try to touch her, but she still inched away.

"Buffy..don't be afraid of me. You have to know that I won't hurt you."

She wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Buffy...you DO know that, don't you? That I would never hurt you? I'd sooner cut off my hands than hurt you."

"I know," she finally said. "I know you won't hurt me...physically."

"But, you're afraid I'll hurt you in other ways if you let me love you. Let yourself love me."

"I won't..."

He cut her off. "You can't control my love for you, Buffy. You might be master of your own
heart...but not mine."

Buffy shook her head. "I don't want you to love me."

Spike felt as though he'd been slapped.

"You don't have a choice," he said harshly. "It's not something you can drive a stake through and have it explode into dust particles. It's a living...breathing...thing, and it's always gonna be part of me."

Buffy rolled off the bed and headed for the door. Turning the door knob, she had it open a few inches when Spike's hand came down on it, slamming it with a bang that rattled the windows.

"Oh, no you don't" he bit out. "You can spend the rest of your life running away from this, but you ARE going to listen to me now."

He turned her around to face him, pinning her to the wall with his body.

"There's no turning back from this, Buffy. I won't go back to whatever we were before. Not now that I've touched you..tasted you..."

Buffy turned her head away, biting her lower lip.

"...felt you beneath me. Your nails digging into my back. Your legs parting to let me lie between them..."

"Stop it." She shoved him away. "Stop saying those things!"

"Why?" Spike asked bitterly. "Because you don't want to hear them...or because you do?"

"I mean it.."

"You were ready for it when you thought it was just lust. You were begging me for it." His voice became suggestive as he trailed one finger down her throat. "Come on," he said. "I'll pretend if you will."

Buffy slapped his hand away. "And here it comes. The real you. The nasty, mean one, who doesn't care what he says." Tears shimmered in her eyes. "I should have known it wouldn't be far behind."

These words, combined with the tears in her eyes, stopped him cold. Stepping back from her, he sat on the bed and stared at the floor.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, looking up when he heard her open the door. "Buffy...Buffy, wait!" he called, jumping to his feet and running after her.

He caught up with her at the top of the stairs. Taking hold of her arm, he he swung her around to face him, then pulled her close when he saw her tears.

"Don't cry...please, please don't cry," he begged in her ear as he stroked her hair. "It's all right...it's all over now, sweetheart. I'll go...I will, just..just don't cry anymore."

Her tears soaked his shirt front, and he cursed himself, hating the thing inside him that had made her so unhappy.

At that moment, he would have been willing to walk out into the noonday sun to be sure that he would never make her cry again.

Bending over, he picked her up and carried her downstairs, then sat on the sofa with her in his lap, cuddling her like a frightened child.

If Buffy had been thinking clearly, she might have seen the pain in his eyes, the hurt he was inflicting on himself rather than her.

And if she had seen it, it might have given her pause, made her wonder at the obvious change from what he used to be, someone who couldn't have cared less whether she was happy or sad, well or in pain.

But she was too confused to deal with this sort of knowledge at the moment. Too overwhelmed by her own convoluted feelings to try and sort out his.

"Buffy...listen to me. You don't have to look at me, but..just hear me. I love you. I'll never stop loving you. I'm not made that way. I'm sorry, but I just can't help it."

Feeling her shudder, he tightened his arms around her. "I didn't mean to frighten you...or make you angry. And I sure as hell didn't want to make you cry."

His voice was quiet and soothing. "I know you don't love me. I...I hoped you might care about me...someday. I didn't mean for things to go this far tonight. But...when I saw you in your pretty new dress..saw how beautiful you looked...and how you responded to me when we danced...I couldn't stop myself, luv."

Spike had to force out the words that came next. "I meant it, though, when I said that I can't go back to how things were. I can't be near you...and not have you. If I thought there was just the smallest chance that you would...well, I'd wait forever...but the one thing I don't want to do...is cause you any more pain than I already have. If it'll make things easier for you...then I'll go. I swear it. I'll leave Sunnydale and I'll never come back."

He waited, hoping she would speak, tell him not to go, ask him to give her time.

But she said nothing, and he felt his heart...the one she'd accused him once of not having,
begin to break.

Oh, God...this was gonna hurt. He'd once thought that losing Drusilla had been painful, but that was nothing compared to what was coming his way now.

Spike swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the ache in his throat, allowing himself to hold her for just a few more seconds, knowing it would be for the last time.

"All right, luv," he finally said, moving her off his lap. "I'll go now." He held her tear stained face in his hands, drinking in the sight and feel and scent of her, then pressed a kiss
on each wet cheek and one on her forehead.

"Goodbye, Buffy."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He stood on the porch for a moment, rubbing his forehead.

Staring out into the darkness of the front yard, he wondered just where the hell he was going to go...IF he could really force himself to leave Sunnydale..to leave Buffy.

He would think about it later. Right now, it was time to go home and get thoroughly drunk, drunk enough to pass out and put off the pain for just a little while longer.

Climbing onto the motorcycle, he started the engine and took off with a scream of the tires; a scream loud enough to drown out the one that came from him.






(They're not through dancing...in more
ways than one)

Part Three....

Buffy stayed on the couch until the sound of the motorcycle faded to nothing.

She'd had to consciously restrain herself from running after him and begging him to come back inside. Only the knowledge that she'd be opening a Pandora's Box stuffed to the brim with problems kept her in the house.

How could it be anything else? Physical attraction and desire were wonderful things, but they couldn't sustain a relationship forever.

She needed something she could count on. Needed to have some small bit of control in at least one part of her life.

Everything else was always so up in the air for her. Even life itself was a crap-shoot. Everytime she strapped on her slayer shoes and stakes, and stepped into any one of a dozen local graveyards, she rolled those particular dice.

She had been lucky so far, but sooner or later, she would crap out and roll a big fat snake eyes.

It was inevitable. Slayers don't die of old age, or lingering illnesses. Slayers go out young, usually in a spectacular amount of pain and blood.

This was her destiny. She had fought against...railed against it...tried to run away from it for so long, but had finally come to terms with it.

Family and friends, vine covered cottages with rose gardens growing in the sunshine...those things were not for her.

It was a small consolation that at least she wouldn't have to hang around and watch as everyone she knew played the game of Life without her, hitting all the traditional milestones...love, weddings, new jobs, first homes....babies.

Buffy had always wanted to have a child someday. She'd made light of it when she'd talked with Angel about such things, but that was mostly to make him feel better about it.

Playing house had been her favorite thing to do with her little friends as she grew from toddlerhood into childhood, and she had always played the part of Mommy.

She'd loved taking care of her babies; dressing them, feeding them, singing them to sleep. When she had been very small, and ignorant of the realities of such things, she'd told her parents that she was going to have at least 10 babies of her own.

They had laughed indulgently, and told her that she would certainly be a very busy Mommy if that happened.

Her planted memories of Dawn as a baby were as strong as they'd ever been. She had a clear and firm recollection of going to visit Mommy in the hospital, and seeing her baby sister in the nursery with all the other newborns.

She remembered the flowers she and her father had chosen from the gift shop; pink roses...her mother's favorite, and buying the Teddy Bear that played a scratchy version of Brahmms Lullaby.

After bringing the baby home, she had followed her mother around morning, noon, and night, wanting to help feed her and change her and give her a bath, pretending that she was the
mommy.

As she'd grown up a little, she had scaled back her family plans to two children, with an option on a third one. It had seemed reasonable.

Only after she had embarked on what was to be her only career choice, had she mentally scuttled those plans, facing the fact that she would never be a mother to even one child let alone three.

Between falling in love with vampires, and a dangerous occupation that could make her child half an orphan, she hadn't....

Buffy shot straight up on the sofa, her thoughts suddenly scattered apart like thrown jacks until they narrowed in on one particular item.

**Falling in love with vampires? As in plural. As in....more than one...**

"Oh, no," she muttered under her breath. "No, I didn't...I CAN'T..."

** Can I..?**

She shook her head. "I am NOT in love with Spike. I'm not!"

Sure, she'd wanted him. What breathing female with an ounce of common sense wouldn't?

Spike was good looking, and sexy, and dangerous...all the things she wanted in a man.

But tonight, he'd proved himself to be something more. He had actually subjugated his feelings in order to defer to hers.

She had led him on...hadn't MEANT to, but the results were the same, and he had still stopped when she'd needed him to. It had been a tremendous effort for him, she'd seen the strain on his face and the tension in his body language.

But he had done it. She had dragged him to the heart stopping brink of sexual passion, and then made him break off.

He'd not only done it, but he'd apologized to HER. As though he'd been the one slamming the door, instead of having it slammed on him.

"Okay...maybe he's a better man than I've given him credit for being...but that doesn't mean I love him...."

**Then why are you still crying now that he's gone?**

Her hands flew to her face. Fresh tears were trembling on her cheeks and her eyes were burning with more.

Buffy got to her feet and went into the bathroom. Flicking on the overhead light, she got a look at herself in the mirror and almost screamed.

Her carefully applied make-up was a melting fright mask. Black smudges of mascara around red, swollen eyes made her look like a panda bear after a three day drunk.

Her hair was a snarly jungle, with all the curl gone from it.

She was a mess.

**Who cries that hard over a guy they don't....care about?**

She yanked off a length of toilet paper and wiped her eyes, then grabbed another one to blow her nose.

Leaving the bathroom, she went into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of iced tea. She sat down at the kitchen counter to drink it, and was almost finished when her eye was caught by the newspaper on the other side of the table.

Dawn had opened it up that morning to read the comics while she ate breakfast.

Buffy grabbed the paper and looked them over, wondering why Dawn found them so amusing.

At the bottom of the page was the word jumble. Dawn was so good at those that she always did them in ink, unscrambling the letters to reveal the hidden message in less than two minutes.

As Buffy read the message Dawn had decoded that morning, her heart turned over in her chest.


"If you're going to walk on thin ice, you might as well dance."


Her fingers touched her lips, as she began to smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy was re-doing her make up when she finally remembered where she'd heard the song she and Spike had danced to.

In the living room, she dug out a plastic box with CDs that had belonged to her mother, kept around for sentimental reasons.

It didn't take her long to find the soundtrack she was hunting for.

Putting it to one side, she ran upstairs and grabbed Dawn's CD player out of her room. She put fresh batteries in it and went back downstairs to make sure the CD was playable.

The song she wanted was the first track on the disc, and she listened to it carefully, the words having even more meaning now than they'd had before.

The sound was perfect. She should have known, her mom had always been careful with her CDs, far more than she and Dawn had ever been.

Setting the volume control where she wanted it, she placed the CD player by the door and finished fixing her face and hair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Her nerve nearly deserted her at the door to his crypt.

What if it was too late? What if he'd decided that she was just too high maintenance for him? What if he'd kept his promise and was already gone?

**What if the earth spins out of orbit and loses it's gravitional pull, and we all float out into space? Stop being such a chickenshit and move your ass, Summers!**

She opened the door as quietly as she could, which wasn't as easy as she'd thought it would be. She'd come through this door like a cyclone in the past, and now she knew part of the reason why.

The damn thing weighed a ton. You had to put a little muscle into it to get it open.

Closing it was just as bad.

**I have got to get him out of this stupid crypt.**

Placing the CD player on top of the tomb, she saw faint lamplight coming from the lower level, and heard someone stirring around.

Hoping like hell that it was the RIGHT someone, she smoothed her hair and dress, then pushed PLAY.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Spike poured another glass of scotch, and practically threw the alcohol down his throat.

He was four glasses into his intended 'drinking to forget' plan, and he wasn't even slightly buzzed. Damn vampire tolerance levels screwed him over every time.

With a heartfelt sigh, he rummaged around beneath the bed, looking for the duffle bag he'd shoved under it when he'd first come to live here.

He wouldn't be taking much with him when he left. His clothes, a few personal effects, some jewelry that had belonged to his mother, most of which he hadn't looked at in years, but still held on to.

A few pictures...

He found the box in the bottom of the armoire. Hesitating, bracing himself for another shot of heartache, he opened it.

There were three pictures in the box. One of Dawn and two of Buffy, they were pictures he'd sweet talked Dawn out of one night, payment for keeping his mouth shut about Dawn climbing out of her bedroom window when she'd been grounded by Warden Buffy for something that he couldn't even remember now.

His finger traced the features of Buffy's smiling face as he remembered the feel of her skin beneath his touch. The warmth, and softness and....

No. He couldn't take these with him. If he did...he'd never be able to stay away, and he had promised her that he would go and not come back.

Replacing the lid of the box, he shoved it back into the drawer.

He sat there, his resolve fading as he contemplated the thought of never seeing her again...even a photograph of her.

His hand reached to open the drawer again..his fingers were almost touching it...when he heard a sound from the upper level.

Music? Where the hell was that coming from. He didn't have a....

His expression became murderous.

THAT song. The one they had danced to. Who was so fucking cruel that they thought this was funny?

All his pent up emotions came roaring to the surface. They needed an outlet, and if he couldn't have the one he really wanted, he would take this one.

Ready to break someone's neck, he climbed the ladder.

When he saw who was waiting for him, his non beating heart nearly burst.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"To really love a woman, to understand her
You got to know her deep inside
Hear every thought,
See every dream
And give her wings when she wants to fly..."


More nervous than she could ever remember being before, Buffy held out one hand, praying that he wouldn't just turn his back on her.

"Dance with me?" she asked softly.


"Then when you find yourself lying
helpless in her arms
You know you really love a woman.."


Without a word, not questioning why anything had changed, he crossed the room in three long strides and placed his hands around her waist, then lifted her completely off her feet and up into the air.

Smiling with a happiness he'd never expected to feel again, he spun her around and around, until she was laughing and holding on to his shoulders.


"When you love a woman, you tell her
that she's really wanted.
When you love a woman, you tell her
that she's the one...
She needs somebody to tell her that
it's gonna last forever.
So tell me have you ever really,
really really ever loved a woman?"


Setting her back down on her feet, he stepped back a little and reached for her right hand. Bringing it to his lips, he left a soft kiss on the back, then turned it over and pressed a longer, more tender one into her palm.

Buffy's eyes felt misty at the loving gesture, wondering where he had been hiding all this back when they'd first met.

Before she could say anything, he took her other hand as well, and placed her arms around his neck, his eyes widening briefly when her fingers began to play with the hair at the nape.


"To really love a woman
Let her hold you
Till you know how she needs
to be touched
You've got to breathe her
Really taste her
Till you can feel her in your blood.."


Keeping his own hands on her waist, he began to move her to the rhythm of the song. They danced, just the way they had done before...as though they'd been doing it for a lifetime.

Buffy's eyes drifted closed, and Spike slipped one hand up her back and into her honey colored mass of hair.

Twining his fingers in it, he gently pulled, tilting her head back.

"Open your eyes," he whispered, the first words he had spoken since he'd left her before.

Her lashes lifted slowly, revealing the feelings she couldn't hide, or wish away.

Spike met her gaze seriously. "Are you frightened?"

"A little," she admitted.

He swallowed hard. "Of me?"

She shook her head. "Of losing you."

If he'd had breath, those words would have stopped it. "That'll never happen, sweetness," he vowed passionately. "I swear it. Never."

Her smile was tremulous. "Unless I chase you off."

"Not even then," he said, pressing his lips against her forehead. "Buffy...there's no power on earth that can make leave you...if you want me to stay."

Sliding her hands up his arms, she pressed them to his cheeks and looked up into his eyes. "Stay," she said firmly.

Sliding one arm around her waist, he leaned her back over it, then lowered his head and pressed his lips against the lace that hid the soft hollow at the base of her throat.


"You got to give her some faith
Hold her tight
A little tenderness
Got to treat her right
She will be there for you
Taking good care of you.."


"Spike..?"

"What, baby?" He nuzzled her ear.

"Let's go downstairs."



"You really got to love your woman..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He led her down the ladder to the lower level, then scooped her up and carried her over to the bed.

She let out a small squeak of surprise when her feet left the ground.

Spike placed one knee on the bed, and placed her carefully on the mattress, as though she were a fine and delicate piece of crystal, fashioned by a master craftsman.

Before he could move away, she slipped her arms around his neck and tugged him down until his lips found hers in a slow, hot, open-mouthed kiss.

Their tongues played lazily in each others mouths, touching and tasting.

Spike pulled back first, and rolled her over onto her stomach to unfasten the buttons of her dress once again.

She giggled as he tickled the back of her neck, then nipped playfully with his teeth.

Stretching out her arms beside her, she turned her head and lay on his pillow, enjoying the attentions he was paying her.

His hands moved up her legs and under the skirt of her dress.

She promptly rolled back over and smiled at him. "Don't bother looking," she said, "I was in too much of a hurry to put a garter belt and stockings back on."

He grinned. "Why, Miss Summers," he said, his voice suitably scandalized. "Do you mean to tell me that you've been running around town without your knickers on?"

She giggled and nodded her head. "Fraid so."

"You're a very naughty girl," he said, growling a little for her. "I love it."

Pulling her sandals off, he tossed them across the room, then worked her out of her dress.

When he had her completely naked, his mouth took a slow, leisurely trip down her throat, stopping to pay proper attention to her breasts.

Licking her damp skin, he nuzzled his face in the hollow between her breasts, then moved his mouth up the undercurve of one to it's hard nipple.

Buffy gasped at the feel of his tongue as it drew wet circles around the tip of her breast. She arched her back, aching for a deeper touch.

"Please," she begged. "Take it in your mouth...oh...oh, yes...harder. Feels so good..."

She clenched her fingers in his silky hair, pressing him even closer as he suckled her, first gently, then harder..as she had requested.

"Now...now the other.." she said, guiding his face to her opposite nipple.

He took it in immediately, drawing on it so strongly that she felt it in her womb.

At the same time, he used his fingers on the one he had been sucking, tugging it and pinching it gently, rubbing the moisture of his saliva into her skin.

Rolling her over again, he lay beneath her as she propped herself on her forearms, freeing his hands to cup and fondle and squeeze both her breasts.

"God, you're so beautiful," he said, molding her soft flesh like a sculptor, pushing the mounds together and swiping his tongue back and forth from one nipple to the other, pausing only to suck at them. "I could spend a lifetime here and never get enough."

She moved back a little, teasing him by removing her breast from the reach of his mouth, then giving him just a small taste before moving back again.

He growled in his throat, a sound that caused an instant rush of hot fluid to seep from between her legs.

Spike caught the scent of it, and felt it dampening the front of his pants.

Afraid that something else was going to dampen them even more, he turned her over again and sat up between her splayed thighs.

He wanted to taste her so badly that he couldn't bear it, but he had to release the pressure of his trousers before it became painful.

Climbing off the bed, he stood next to it and tugged his shirt off, sending it who knew where.

As he did this, Buffy moved to unbuckle his belt and tug down the zipper of those confining leather pants he had on.

Considering how tight they were, they slipped down with surprising ease.

Her eyes became as wide as tea saucers when she saw the impressive erection jutting out from his thighs.

Unable to resist, she reached out one hand and wrapped her fingers around his cock, sliding them up and down.

"Ohh....FUCK...yes, baby...a little tighter..that's my girl...yes..."

She pumped her hand up and down the rigid shaft, lifting the drops of moisture that formed at the tip and rubbing them back into his skin.

"Does that feel good?" she asked, knowing the answer perfectly well.

"Oh, fuck...yes. Yes....don't stop...yeah..squeeeze it...little more...more...I...no, stop...honey, stop now."

"Why?" she inquired teasingly.

"Because...if you don't," he explained just as teasingly, "you're gonna have a big mess on your hands."

She released him then, ignoring the small whimper of protest he couldn't help uttering.

Moving back into the center of the bed, she beckoned him with one finger, watching as he gripped his shaft firmly to control hold off ejaculating.

"Is that for me," she asked, "or are you gonna play with yourself all night?"

He grinned at her as he toed off his boots and kicked his pants away. "It's all for you, little girl. Every...last...inch."

Reclining on the pillows, she held out her arms. "Come here, baby," she said sweetly.

Forcing away the memory of what had happened the last time he'd done this, Spike again fell into her open arms.

This time, though, she parted her legs for him and lifted her hips, rubbing her wet crotch against him.

Capturing his face in her hands, she gave him several lingering kisses, sliding her tongue into his mouth and licking the slick enamel of his teeth.

He moaned deep in his throat, then pulled back and blazed a trail down her body, leaving her skin moist and yearning.

Pushing her thighs apart, he paused for a moment to take in her scent...a fragrance that made his head spin...and lowered himself between them.

Buffy's entire body jerked taut as a drawn wire at the feel of his tongue on her. He slid it up and down the outer fold of her sex, then plunged it in as deeply as he could, then found her clit and sucked it, drinking her in like vintage wine.

Her head thrashed on the pillow as she moaned and sobbed and panted. The pleasure he was inflicting on her was almost unbearable, and could easily border on pain had he been less
experienced.

Not needing to breathe was a big bonus too...

He raised his head and looked at her, loving the fact that he was the one who had brought her to such a state.

And he knew exactly how to push her a little bit higher.

"God, baby...you taste so sweet. Your little pussy is like cream..I could eat it all night." He slid one finger inside her. "So wet...and hot. You must like this." He smiled evilly. "Do you, baby? Do you like it when I lick you between your legs?"

"Uh-huh," Buffy panted.

"And when I suck your juicy little clit? Does it feel good when I do that?"

"Yes," she gulped. "Very...very good."

Pumping his finger in and out, he rubbed her sweet spot with his thumb. "What about when I tongue fuck you? When I slide my tongue in as deeply as I can..move it in and out..harder and faster..."

"Oh, GOD!!!" Buffy screamed the words, and dug her nails into the mattress, her hips convulsing as her body touched the stars.

Without another word, Spike moved up in the bed and positioned himself. Rubbing the head of his cock against her labia, he slid it in a little, then pulled back. His thrusts were shallow and slow, as he entered her a bit at a time.

Buffy was moaning and keening in his ear, ratcheting his lust even higher.

When he was completely sheathed in her warm, tight center, he began to thrust rhythmically, using his hips to nudge her thighs even farther apart.

She raised her legs suddenly, winding them around his back, which allowed him even deeper penetration.

Neither of them were quiet about it, and could probably be heard by most of the local residents
of his particular neighborhood.

Fortunately, the dead don't mind the noise.

Pounding into her harder and faster, he grunted every time his pelvis slammed into hers.

Sometimes he would stop and move his hips from side to side, striking whole new pleasure points inside her.

"Ohhh...ohhh...Spike...yes," she whined and whimpered. "More...more...harder...baby, harder...come on...do it...do it now...I'm so close...baby, I'm so close....."

He redoubled his efforts, giving her everything he had to give.

"You're so good," she crooned in his ear, stoking the fires of his ego at the same time she did his body. "It's never been like this...never...you, baby...it's you...you're my man...my beautiful wild boy..."

"Buffy...Buffy...are you...mine? My...girl? Say.. say you are...uhh...uhh...say it...please...."

Placing her lips to his ear, she whispered with heated breath..."I'm all yours..all of me..all for you...just you...oh, faster...go faster...I'm so...make me come," she pleaded shamelessly. "Make me come...Spike...ahhh..."

"I'll make you come," he choked out. "Make you see stars...come so hard...do it for me, babe...do it for your man..."

Five more ramming thrusts were all they needed. They came together, screaming in the perfect
bliss of mutual orgasm.

Buffy lifted her hips and clamped her internal muscles around his shaft, milking it for all the juice he had to give her. She could feel it spewing into her, his cock jerking as it emptied every drop of semen.

Spike pushed his pelvis down hard, grinding it against hers in the delicious friction that made his lover's body vibrate and hum. He felt the wetness gushing from her, making everything slick and hot.

When it was over, when it began to ease away from them, they looked into each others eyes....and both found just exactly what they'd wanted so much to see.

It was love...and it was good...and it would last forever.


"Then when you find yourself lying helpless
in her arms
You know you really love a woman..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Spike?"

"Hmm?"

"Remember when you came into the Bronze earlier?"

"Yeah..."

"You said you were waiting for someone." Buffy frowned, not pleased with the idea at all. "Just who were you waiting for?"

He propped his head on one hand and looked down at her cross little face.

"Oh, Buffy," he said tenderly. "Don't you know...I was waiting for you, baby."

Leaning down then, he kissed her until she smiled.....



The End.