A Kick From Champagne

Part 4

Five minutes after she'd switched on the television, Buffy was ready to put her foot through it.

Hundred different channels...not one thing worth watching...

She didn't have a lot of time for watching these days, but it seemed as though television had become a vast and arid wasteland of stupid game shows that made a point of insulting the contestants, reality shows that had no basis in any reality she'd ever heard of, and sitcoms so painfully un-funny that even the canned laughter was weak.

"Networks," she grumbled. "Who's running 'em anyway? Demons trying to just bore us into uncon..un...to death and take over the world, I bet. Oughta go down an sssllaayyy every one of 'em."

The picture jumped from one station to the next as she applied kept her thumb on the channel select button.

"Not even a good movie on," she continued bitching. "Cable costs an arm and both legs...and they can't show one halfway decent...whoa! "

She stopped speed dialing channels when she came across a close up of a woman's face as her mouth traced a slow path down the front of a very nicely developed male chest.

"Here we go!" she said gleefully, settling deeper into the sofa cushions to see just how nasty this movie would turn out to be.

After a few minutes, it became clear that it was your plain old, everyday, soft core porn. The kind that had lots of naked women frolicking about, while the men were only shown naked from behind, or from the waist up.

Every time the action on screen got really intense, the camera zoomed in on faces contorted with either incredible pleasure or agonizing indigestion.

"This isn't fair," Buffy informed the television. "Hows come you only show the girly naughty parts? Didju forget about the other half of the poppy..popala..the REST of us?" she demanded. " S'crimination is what THAT is!"

She wasn't interested in looking at body parts she already owned.

Still, in spite of the lame dialogue, bad acting, and cheesy music, she was finding the movie more than a little...stimulating.

The sexual acrobatics were really impressive.

These people were getting into positions that looked highly uncomfortable and difficult to maintain, and they were doing it with an enthusiastic chorus of moaning and groaning, followed by outright squealing whenever one of them crossed their personal finish line.

"Hey, cute guy!" The man onscreen had short blond hair, a face that was very easy on the eyes and, if the expression on his partner's face was any indication, must be hung like a goddamn racehorse.

The women currently riding this stud had medium blondish hair hanging halfway to her waist, and was endowed to a degree that made Buffy feel completely inadequate.

This babe was so top heavy that she had to keep her hands cupped over her own breasts as she bounced up and down...no doubt to keep from blackening both her eyes.

As the scene went on, the actors changed positions so many times that Buffy lost track of who was doing what to who.

At one point, the man rolled over and assumed the position favored by missionaries all over the world. He kept his face hidden against the side of the woman's neck, and all Buffy could see of him was the back of his blonde head and his wildly copulating ass.

Watching the performance go through its paces, she began to notice that the man and woman onscreen had a familiar look about them.

The guy sort of looked like...well, if she squinted real hard...Spike. The woman, as long as she kept her back to the camera, could have passed for herself.

"Holy cow!" What a visual!

She couldn't get it out of her head.

The harder she tried to follow the action onscreen, the further her mind wandered, until she was off in deep left field, picking daisies.

Her imagination took off at full throttle, working hard to present her with her own private little movie, playing in her own dirty little mind.

Deciding that she couldn't give her undivided attention to both things at once, she abandoned the televised porn in favor of the porn in her head.

Closing her eyes, she saw herself and the vampire she was falling in love with, lying together in a monstrous four poster bed, the kind with all the trimmings, like a swooping canopy, and silk sheets, and soft feather...

"WHAT?!" Her eyes flew open as she shot up into a sitting position.

Falling in love with? FALLING IN LOVE WITH?!

Her head was spinning like a roulette wheel, forcing her to lie down again.

Oh, no...no you don't...there is no falling being done! I can't play the Vampire Dating Game again...it's too damn much work...

But no matter how hard she tried, how firmly she denied them access, how brutally she beat them up, the images in her brain wouldn't go away and leave her alone. They just kept creeping in when she was unprepared for them.

Sneaky images..

"Oh, geez," she groaned. "I don't need this. I swear to God, I do NOT need THIS."

She rubbed her eyes with her clenched fists.

"I've gotta find a regular guy. There must be some out there...I only need one."

Maybe, if she hung a sign in the window: Wanted...regular, normal, everyday sort of guy for fun and frequent sexual encounters. No supernatural beings need apply...especially vampires. Inquire within...

Who am I kidding? Regular guys don't work for me either...

She didn't have the time or the inclination to deal with all the emotional baggage that came along with a 'regular' guy, and the regular guys out there sure as hell couldn't handle her own set of luggage.

Spike's not regular...

"Yeah...no kidding."

Spike was a lot of things. Smart mouthed, brash, usually lacking in common sense, and hot tempered.

But, he was funny and insightful, with a depth of intelligence that he didn't often get credited for.

He was also as loyal as an old dog to the people he cared about, and Buffy knew that her name, and Dawn's, were at the top of that particular list.

And he was honest and upfront with his feelings and his opinions, whether you wanted him to be or not.

Like it or lump it, Spike didn't bullshit you or tell you what you wanted to hear. His philosophy was rooted in the "tell it like it really is, bloody well deal with it, and get on with your fucking life!" school of thought.

And, of course, he was amazingly good looking, very well built, and sexy down to the marrow of his bones. A big, BIG plus for any guy!

Yes, Spike was all these things and more, but he was in no way regular, common, ordinary, garden variety, or run of the mill.

"Oh, all RIGHT" she whined. "Think about him that way..drive yourself nuts. Juss don't come crying to me when you end up in the nuthouse!"

As though it had been peeking around the corner, waiting for the opportunity, that big, beautiful bed reappeared in her mind.

Only problem was....she seemed to be alone in it.

"What the hell?"

Off to one side of her mind picture, a door opened and her dream guy stepped into the scene.

"Thass more like it!"

Dream-Spike approached the bed like a big old jungle cat padding towards a trapped bunny rabbit. He reached out with one hand and whipped the satin comforter right off of Dream-Buffy.

Oooh...he's rough...that can be fun...

Dream-Buffy sat up and held out her arms. With a toe curling growl, Dream-Spike leapt onto the bed and reached for the hem of a white satin and lace nightgown that Dream-Buffy was conveniently wearing, even though RealBuffy didn't own anything even remotely like it.

The gown came up and off, and DreamSpike began to kiss and fondle and caress every inch of Dream-Buffy's naked, panting body, whispering in her ear, telling her all the things a girl liked to hear at a moment like this.

"You're so beautiful, luv...so soft and warm. I want you...I've wanted you from the second I saw you..forgot every other girl in the world but you."

Now, THIS is the way to make a sexy movie...pay attention Hollywood..

Dream-Spike rose to his knees, bringing Dream-Buffy along with him, and she began to help him shed clothing that came off with surprising ease. It seemed to melt away beneath her touch, with no buttons, snaps, zippers, laces, or velcro to fumble around with.

Dream-Buffy, who was a LOT more uninhibited than her real life counterpart, began to explore Dream-Spike's body, her fingers gliding over hard muscle and smooth skin.

Dream-Spike was no slouch either. He returned her touches enthusiastically, caressing and kissing the most private places of Dream-Buffy's body, his tongue lingering on her breasts and between her thighs.

God...he knows what I like. How the hell does he know that? I've certainly never told him what I like to do in..

"Oh, for God's sake! Who CARES how he knows?" Dream-Buffy said irritably. "He just KNOWS! Now shut up and quit distracting him!"

Sorry...

Dream-Spike moved to lie on top of DreamBuffy. He positions himself and begins to thrust. She takes him all the way inside her, deep and hard. In and out. Slowly...then faster...harder...then faster still.

Their voices vibrate with their pleasure as they moan and cry out for more. She digs her nails into his shoulders, begging him not to stop...not to EVER stop...because it feels so good...so perfect...the way their bodies fit together so wonderfully, as though they'd been specially fashioned for each other...and anybody who came before was nothing but a cheap imitation.

He pounds in harder, burying his face in her hair, telling her that her scent makes his head spin, makes him wild with the sort of desire you can only feel with a true soul mate. He promises to never stop loving her, wanting her, fucking her.

His head comes up and he orders her to arch her back, to raise her breast to his mouth so he can taste it...suckle it. He tells her how warm it is, how sweet it tastes, how much he loves the feel of her nipple hardening in his mouth, beneath the lash of his tongue.

Her fingers tangle in his hair, guiding his mouth to her other breast, hissing in his ear to suck it harder because she feels the pull in her loins every time he does and it's so good and she wants more and more.

Suddenly, he pulls away from her. She wants to scream in protest, but he gives her no chance as he turns her over and pulls back on her hips until she's on her hands and knees.

He reaches down and reestablishes their connection, then begins to thrust, driving her back up that steep incline she'd almost crested moments ago.

Draping himself over her back, he rests his palms flat on the bed, nuzzling the back of her neck, asking her if she likes this, likes what he's doing now. With a snarky grin, he places his lips against her ear and releases a playful bark.

She smiles and rears back, returning the pressure. Balancing on one hand, she reaches down to play with herself, but he pushes her hand away, telling her that it's his job to do that, to make her come, that no one else is allowed to touch when he's down there.

His own fingers come around front of her and take over, finding her clit and rubbing it hard, squeezing it gently as his shaft invades and retreats, over and over, until she's screaming for him to finish, to do it, to make her come hard, the way no other lover ever had or ever will.

His hips begin pistoning in harder and faster, and he releases soft grunts every time he goes in all the way, the muscles of his ass working as he pumps into her, his sack impacting lightly against her own little bottom.

Orgasm hits them simultaneously, making them scream until their throats must surely be raw.

Her knees give out when he collapses on top of her, his own strength completely drained away. He holds his weight off her as best he can, by resting on his forearms. He covers the back of her neck with kisses and whispers "I love you..."

Dream-Buffy smiles. "I love you too. So much..."

Oh, my God! That was just...WAIT! NO! I don't ...no love...I DON'T love!..

Dream-Buffy sighs. "Oh, yes you do."

I do not! I don't want to love!

"Yeah...right."

I mean it! It's too much work. I ain't interested

"Ah, don't be daft, luv," Dream-Spike said, turning to look at her as though she was standing beside the bed. "Everyone wants to love and be loved. People...slayers..." He grinned. "Even a few vampires. It's the natural order of things."

"Love makes the world go round," Dream-Buffy interjected.

Dream-Spike nodded. "All you need is love."

Stop that!

"Love is a many splendourous thing," he added.

"Splendored," Dream-Buffy corrected.

He shook his head. "No such word."

Knock it off!

"Really?"

"Check the Websters, babe."

"Later."

Stop talking to each other like I'm not here...

Dream-Spike looked at her again. "Look, luv, point is...at the end of the day, love's the only thing worth fightin' for. So, if you find it, you gotta grab on and hold tight to it, cause you might not ever find it again."

Dream-Buffy sighed. "That was beautiful."

He grinned. "Yeah. I read it in a Hallmark card at the grocery."

Okay, shut up! Both of you. I'm telling you I don't want to be in love!

"Then what DO you want, Pet?"

Sex. Meaningless, no strings attached, check your emotions at the door...sex.

Dream-Buffy snickered. "Liar."

"Please!" Dream-Spike added. "If THAT was true, I'd have been in your knickers a long time ago."

I BEG your pardon?

"Beg all you want, you know I'm right." He winked at her. "You been hot for me since day one, Slayer. Same way I've been for you."

Oh, no I...for me? Really?

"Uh-huh. The second I saw that cute little ass of yours bouncing around, I wanted my hands all over it."

But you tried to KILL me!

"Yeah, well...I'm a vampire. Doesn't mean I didn't want to nail your arse to the nearest available mattress."

"Okay, enough small talk," Dream-Buffy interrupted testily. "I want to get MY arse nailed to THIS mattress again." She pushed Dream-Spike over onto his back, then rolled on top of him, glancing at Buffy. "You can watch, if you want to."

Okay, YOU have been spending way too much time with Anya..

Part Five....

She opened her eyes and tried to stand,
but the champagne buzz was really kicking
in now, forcing her to surrender.

**All right, FINE! I'll stay here until the
room stops spinning, but THAT'S IT! **

She sprawled sloppily on the sofa.

**Probably be here for days...**

Turning her head , she spotted the empty
bottle on the coffee table.

"This is YOUR fault," she groused at
it. "And will you two give it a rest?"

The couple on the screen just moaned
louder.

The remote was on the table next to
the bottle, an innocent bystander.
Buffy punched the off button so
hard that the batteries popped out.

She closed her eyes tightly again, trying
to force herself to think about some-
thing...anything...except the irritatingly
arrogant, thoroughly sexy blood
sucking fiend who knew exactly how
to push every last one of her buttons.

Barging into her life, turning it ass
end up, making her rethink all her
preconceived notions about how
things were supposed to be.

**Think about something else. Some-
thing completely off topic...like
shopping! The blue dress in Macy's.
Dark blue with a glittery sparkle, the
color of the sky right before the sun
goes down, the color of his eyes. Deep
blue and they sparkle when he teases
me and he tries to make me blush...**

"Bad topic. No blue eyed vampires."

**Was that Karen Sutherland I saw at
the market? My alphabetical order
partner in school. I didn't like her. She
was one of the 'Cordelia' clones, a
member of her rat pack, and they were
all so mean to Willow. Picking on her,
making fun of her clothes and I wanted
to sucker punch every last one of them
dead in the face. Boom! Light's out. There
was Karen and Crystal and Harmony,
and I hated Harmony most of all. Stuck
up and stupid, my GOD was she stupid.
Even after she was turned, she was the
same nitwiit she'd always been. Grabbing
MY sister...shacking up with MY vam-
pire.**

"Shit!"

**Calculus, physics, biology, geography.
Stuff I have no use for at all. Food in the
cafeteria wasn't worth eating most of the
time. Drinking fountains never worked
right. You either had to french kiss the
thing to get a drink, or it shot a jet
spray right up your nose. Ugly paint
on the walls, ugly in the hallways. Every
shade from nile to bile, and we fought
in the hall right outside Beginning Spa-
nish. He scared me, almost took me
out of the game. Good fighter. Strong..the
best I'd ever been up against, and it
kind of turned me on**

Mentally throwing in the towel, Buffy
surrendered.

**Where's a white flag when you need one?**

She couldn't do it, couldn't NOT think
about Spike.

If someone was holding her at gun point
and ordering her not to think about him, she'd
be shot right between the eyes.

"Millions of men all over the world. Why am
I so hung up on this one?"

**Because, he's...he's just...oh, he really is..**

"He isn't the only game in town."

**Maybe, but he plays the game better than
any of them**

"Yeah...he's a player."

**Well, I want to play too! It's MY turn,
dammit. He likes to play...I want to
play...why shouldn't we play with each
other?**

The mystery giggle once again made it's
presence known.

"Oh, shut up!" she snapped, flinging
a throw pillow across the room. "I'm
trying to think!"

**I'm unattached...he's unattached..he'd
BETTER be unattached...I'm over
21...he's WAY over 21...I'm not bad
to look at...he's...**

"Too hot looking for his own damn good."

**Beautiful face. Muscles. Barely controlled
energy. A smile that could charm an angry
wolverine. Put 'em all together and they
spell....**

"Spike!" she said brightly.

"What?"

Part Six.....

Buffy felt her entire body turn bright red. Grab-
bing another pillow, she quickly covered her
face with it.

"Spike?" she squeaked, her voice muffled.

"That's right." He sounded amused.

"Uh...I...hello!"

"Buffy...are you all right?"

Hearing his approach, she clutched the
pillow tighter. "Uh-huh."

Spike knelt beside the sofa. "Buffy?"

"Hmm?"

"What are you doing?" He tugged at the
pillow, but she held on.

"Oh, you know...nothing much. Just
sitting around relaxing."

"With a pillow over your face?" He tugged
harder. "How relaxing can THAT be?"

"Well, it works for me. I'm...HEY!" Spike
finally wrestled the pillow out of her clutches,
tossing it across the room. "That was rude!"

"THAT was rude?" he responded in dis-
belief. "And is it perfect etiquette to keep
a pillow over your face when someone comes
to call, Miss Manners?"

Buffy watched in silence as his eyes found
the champagne bottle with the empty
glass next to it.

A smart ass grin slowly formed all over
his handsome face. "Well, well...what's
this then?" He picked up the bottle and
examined the label. "This is the good
stuff, luv," he informed her. "Did you enjoy
it?"

She sat up and snatched the bottle out of
his hand. "Yes. S'matter of fact, I did!" She
was surprised to hear the sloshing sound
of liquid. Not bothering with the glass, she
raised the bottle to her lips.

Her aim was slightly askew, and a few drops
of the champagne ran down her chin, making
her giggle. "Oops."

Spike just shook his head and smiled, making
an obvious effort to contain outright laughter.

Buffy wiped her face on the back of her
sleeve. "Wasso funny?"

He shrugged. "Nothing, really. You feel-
ing all right, honey?"

"Yup," she replied cheerily. "I feel great. Just
peachy." She tossed her hair back and gave
him her prettiest smile. "How's bout you?"

Spike cleared his throat. "Fine, thanks." He
pried the empty bottle out of her hand and
set it back down on the coffee table, then
stood up and removed his coat, tossing into
over the back of an armchair.

"So, where's Dawn tonight?" he asked, sit-
ting on the sofa next to Buffy.

"Where's Dawn tonight?" she echoed. "Dawn
is...well, she's..I think...Dawn?"

"Yes. Dawn." He waved one hand in front
of her eyes and she tilted back slightly,
trying to focus on it. "Your sister. Fifteen
years old...long brown hair...nice smile...ring
any bells?"

"Yeah, sure," Buffy nodded, almost cross-
eyed. She blinked hard and tried to look
serious. "Absolutely. You're right about that."

Spike waited for her to continue. After thirty
seconds of silence, he prompted, "Well...?"

Buffy frowned, trying to remember what he'd
said. "Well...what?"

He raised his voice. "Where is she?"

"Don't yell at me!" She drew her knees up under
her chin and glared at him.

Spike modified his tone. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean
to yell. Where's Dawn tonight?"

"She's..." Buffy concentrated, "...spending the
night will Willow and Tara. They're cramming."

"Doing WHAT?"

"Stud-dee-ing," she enunciated clearly. "There's
final ezams coming up, ya know. Verrry important."

"Final ezams, huh?"

"Yeah," she rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Tests.
Jeez, didn't you go to school back when you
weren't.." she hiccuped "...dead?"

"Yes," he said. "I went to school back when
I wasn't dead." He smiled at her, his eyes
soft with amusement. "God, this is adorable."

"What is?" she asked brightly. "Me?"

"Yes." Spike nodded. "You...like this."

"Like this?" Her brow furrowed. "Like what?"

"Baby," he leaned in close. "You are very
cute...and a little drunk."

"I am NOT!" Buffy pulled back, offended.
She shook her head in vigorous denial, then
held one hand over her eyes until the room
stopped spinning. "Ohh.."

"Buffy...sweetheart," Spike said patiently. "I've
been around for a long time now, and I've
seen enough drunks to know one when it
falls on the floor in front of me." She tried
to stand up and he grabbed her hand. "Which
is exactly what you're about to do...sit down."

"No," she replied fractiously. "I don't feel like
sitting down." She tried to pull her hand out
of his.

Spike shrugged. "Fine," he replied, releasing
his grip. "But don't expect me to pick you
up when you fall on your....

Buffy stood, swayed, and fell to the floor
in a graceless heap.

"...face." Contrary to his words, he gathered
her up and placed her back on the sofa. "Are
you all right?"

"I'm FINE" she said irritably. "Quit asking me
that. I just...just didn't eat much today so I'm
a teensy bit dizzy is all."

Spike frowned. "You mean you haven't had
any dinner?"

"Oh, of course I did," Buffy said, "when I
got home before...I did...really!"

He looked at her doubtfully, then went into
the kitchen to see for himself. He was back in
less than five seconds, holding her forgotten
sandwich in two fingers as though the bread
was ticking a countdown.

"THIS?" he demanded. "This is your idea
of dinner?"

"It's food," she said defensively. "Any food
you eat at dinnertime is...dinner!"

"Buffy..." he shook his head, not believing
what he was hearing. "You ate ONE bite.
One bite isn't dinner. It's not even an
appetizer."

He tossed the sandwich into the waste
basket, and sat back down beside her.

"No wonder this hit you like a freight
train." He brushed her hair out of her
eyes.

She enjoyed his touch so much that
she tilted a little to follow it, seemingly
unaware of what she was doing.

Spike caught her arm and straightened
her up. "Never drink to excess on an
empty tummy, sweetheart."

That sounded reasonable and he was so damn
cute that she nodded agreeably. "Gotcha." She
glanced at the window. "Hey, look! It stopped
raining."

His gaze followed her and he nodded. "For
the moment."

There was something she was supposed
to do...something she should already
have done, but she hadn't because of the
rain. "I should probably go out and..."

"Go out and what?" Spike asked. "Go out
and...patrol?" He stared at her in horror. "Is
THAT what you're trying to say?"

"That's it!" she said, snapping her fin-
gers. "Thank you."

She began to stand up, but he pushed
her back down.

"Are you suddenly INSANE, as well as
drunk?!" he shouted. "You can't stand up
straight. Hell, you can't even SIT up
straight." He shook his head. "You wouldn't
last five minutes out there. Forget it!"

Buffy felt all melty and sugary inside. He was
worried about her. How cute was THAT?

"You're so sweet to worry," she crooned,
patting his cheek. "But I'm really A-OK. A
little fresh air s'all I need, and I'll be fine."

She stood up slowly, trying to remain steady
on her feet.

Spike stood up as well. "No, you won't be
fine...you'll be DINNER!" He planted himself
in front of her, blocking her path. "You might as
well paint a bullseye on your chest while you're
at it!"

Buffy opened her mouth to reply to that silly
comment, but was cut off when Spike leaned
in close and glared into her eyes. "Sit...down!"
he grated through clenched teeth.

Buffy returned his steady gaze defiantly, at
first, then slowly lowered herself back down to
the sofa.

Seated once again, her nerve deserted her
entirely, and she dropped her eyes and grum-
bled, "This is stupid...I am perfly able to do my
job."

"Is that so?" Spike asked. Sitting beside her,
he placed one finger in the center of her chest
and gave her a nudge that wouldn't have unseated
a three hour old kitten.

"HEY!" Buffy squealed as she lost her ba-
lance. Pinwheeling her arms to try and steady
herself, she did a backwards somersault and
crashed to the floor. "Ow!"

"Still feeling 'perfly' able, luv?" Spike asked
casually.

"When I get back up there," she muttered,
rolling onto her hands and knees, "you're
gonna pay."

He watched her struggle to regain her feet
with a huge smile on his face.

"Yeah," he said. "I can see that. You gonna
give me a head start before you come after
me?"

"Oh, shuddup," Buffy said. "Think you're so
damn smart."

He chuckled. "Well, I'm not the one crawling
around on the floor," he said. "Although, I
must admit, you're very appealing in that
position."

Buffy's head jerked up and she stared at him,
wondering if she'd heard him properly. "Whatta
ya mean by that?"

"You know what I mean," Spike said, his voice
dropping into a lower register. "On your hands
and knees like that. Makes the mind reel with
possibilities and.." He winked at her. "..naughty
thoughts."

"Okay, wait a minute." It had been a while since
she'd had a suggestive remark aimed at her,
but she still recognized one when she heard it.

Climbing back up on the sofa, she crawled on
her hands and knees down to the other end
until she was nose to nose with him. "Are you
kidding me?"

He smiled tenderly, and tucked a lock of her
hair behind one ear. "Course not, baby."

She sat back on her heels, tilting her
head. "Are you flirting with me?" she asked
suspiciously. "How come?"

"Don't you know?"

"Would I ask, if I knew?"

Spike trailed one finger over the curve of her
cheek. "Maybe because you're so pretty?" he
suggested.

Buffy held her breath, waiting for him to con-
tinue. After thirty seconds, she couldn't hold
her tongue. "That's IT?"

"No!" he laughed. "That's not IT!" Taking hold
of her arms, he pulled her forward into his
lap. "You know I'm crazy about you, luv."

"You are?" she gulped. "Really?"

Spike nodded. "Really."

"Ohhh," Buffy sighed. "Thass so...no! Wait!" The
smile disappeared from her face. "If..if you're sooo
crazy 'bout me then...then why've you been
avoying me?"

"Why have I been doing WHAT?"

"You been avoy...a...not touching me! Ever
since that night when...when we..."

"I remember, baby," he assured. "God, do I
remember."

"Yeah! And...and ever since then...nothing! Not
a word or...or nothing! Zip!" She struggled
slightly in his hands. "I was starting to think
that I'm icky or something."

Spike took a firmer grip on her arms and
pulled her closer. "Don't you EVER think a
thing like that!" he said fiercely. "There's no-
thing wrong with you, baby. You're perfect from
top to bottom." One hand slid lightly down her
back and caressed her rear. "And your bottom is
especially cute."

"THAT'S what I said!" she pouted.

"No, no...don't do that." He groaned softly. "Not
with the face. You know I can't take it."

"I dunno WHAT you mean," she replied airily,
knowing exactly what he meant.

"Oh, don't you?"

"No, I...HEY!" she yelped when he turned
her in his arms, keeping her on his lap, but
facing away from him.

He pulled her back until she was reclining
against his chest. "You know damn well what
I mean, pouty," he whispered in her ear. "When-
ever you make that face at me, you're just beg-
ging for it."

Buffy didn't know what was making her more
light headed, the alcohol she'd consumed, or
the tone in Spike's voice, or the feel of his
mouth as he placed light kisses on the side of
her neck.

"God, baby...you smell so good," he said,
rubbing his cheek against her hair. "What is
that?"

Buffy's eyelids lost their mooring and drifted
shut. "What...does it smell like?"

He took another sniff. "Coconut?"

"Shampoo," she said, giggling when he
tickled her ear.

"And...lemons?"

She nodded. "Conditioner."

He moved further down, nuzzling her cheek.

"Peaches...no, apricots."

"Fash...fisha...the stuff I wash my face with."

"Is that what makes it so soft?" he asked. Lift-
ing her hand, he kissed the inside of her wrist.
"This one's easy...vanilla."

Buffy brought her free hand up to cup his
cheek. "D'ya like it?"

"Do I LIKE it?" he asked, charmed by her
flirty demeanor. "Baby...you're dessert."

She tilted her head back to look into his
eyes. "Are you hungry?"

Before he could answer, she heard the
laughter that had been plaguing her all
evening.

"Did you hear that?" she asked in a whisper,
not wanting to alert the giggler.

"Hear what, sweetheart?" he asked,
kissing the side of her face and her ear. "All
I hear is you."

"No, not me. Not me." She sat up and
looked around the room. "That laughing.
Someone laughed."

She placed one finger to her lips. "I
think we gots a.." She wasn't even going
to try and say poltergeist. "..ghost. A ghost
that laughs."

Turning on his lap to face him, she found
him looking at her as though she'd changed
colors. "What?"

"That was you."

Buffy looked confused. "Who was me?"

"The ghost that laughed," he said.

She stared at him for a moment, then smiled.

"Spike...don't tease me. S' not nice."

"I'm not teasing you, luv," he reported ser-
iously. "That was you laughing, and if you've
been hearing it all night and thinking it was
someone else.." He sighed. "Then you're
even drunker than I thought you were."

Buffy was losing interest in the discussion and
wanted to go back to the previous topic.

"Whatever," she shrugged. Turning around again,
she tilted her head and offered him access to
her throat. She sighed softly, snuggling back
into his arms. "You were saying?"

Spike hesitated, groping for some semblance
of self control. "I think it's time for bed."

"I think so too!" She sat up in his lap, smiling
brightly.

He helped her stand, then placed his hands
on her shoulders and looked her in the
eye. "Time for YOU to go to bed," he amended.

"Yeah!" she said eagerly. "I heard you the
first time."

He made no reply, but just looked at her.

Slowly divining his intent, she gasped out
loud. "You mean...you don't mean...by
myself?"

"By yourself." he confirmed.

"But...but thass a TERRIBLE idea," Buffy com-
plained loudly. "Thass the worst idea I ever
heard!"

"Maybe," Spike said, turning her and gently
urging her towards the stairs. "But it's a safer
one."

She dug in her heels. "Safer for who?" she
whined.

"Safer for me. I don't even want to think about
you might do after you sober up and remember
what happened."

Buffy smiled. She could fix this!

Turning to face him, she placed her arms
around his neck. "Oh, come on," she said,
rubbing against him kittenishly.

Spike grabbed her hips, holding her lower
body away from his. "Don't do that."

"Don't do what?" Buffy asked sweetly. "Don't
do this?" Thrusting herself forward, she made
intimate contact.

"Yes," he hissed through clenched teeth. "That
would be the thing to not do, luv."

"If you say so." Locking her arms more firmly
around his neck, she bent her knees a little,
the jumped straight up into the air. "Catch!"

As though the movements had been choreo-
graphed specially for them, Spike slipped
his hands under her bottom as she wrapped
her legs around his waist.

Before he could utter a sound, she lunged
forward and kissed him.

Unable to resist, his hands moved caressingly
up and down her back, molding her upper body
against his.

They kissed feverishly, exploring each others
mouth with their tongues, until Buffy was
forced to break away for oxygen

"Take me upstairs," she panted. "Take me...."

The sensation of her warm breath on his skin
nearly destroyed any resolve he had, but her
words pulled him out of the erotic miasma he
was drowning in.

"Buffy...baby, listen to me. You have to stop
now."

Setting her firmly on her feet, Spike untangled
himself from her embrace.

"Please don't misunderstand," he said earnestly,
looking into her expressive green eyes. "I want
you. You have no idea how badly I want you..how
long I've waited."

"The wait's over now," she said happily. "Just
take me upstairs."

"No."

Buffy shrugged. "Okay!" Her hands moved to
unbutton his shirt. "Right here is good, too."

Spike closed his eyes, shaking his head in
self disgust. "Christ," he muttered. "I don't
BELIEVE I'm saying this."

"Well join the club!" she said peevishly.

He opened his eyes and gazed down into
hers. They were wide, and dark with desire.
Her hair was mussed, her lips moist and
a little swollen from being kissed so
hard.

She almost looked like she'd already been
made love to, passionately and thoroughly.

"Oh, God help me," he groaned, picking
her up in his arms and carrying her up
the stairs.

Buffy's room was illuminated only by the
light of a moon that was just beginning to
emerge from behind a bank of storm clouds.

As Spike placed her on the bed, urging her
to lie back into the pillows, Buffy reached
for him.

Knowing that if she touched him he was
lost, he took hold of her seeking hands and
held them firmly.

"Spike," Buffy whispered, "I want you to make
love to me."

"And I WANT to make love to you," he said,
steeling himself. "But...not like this. I can't
take advantage of..."

"Yes, you can!" Buffy interjected impatient-
ly. "You can take as much advantage as you
want. Just help yourself. I got lots more. I'm
loaded with advantage!"

Spike rolled his eyes. "You're loaded all
right." She opened her mouth to reply,
but he clapped one hand over it. "I can't
take advantage of a helpless girl."

"Thince when?" Buffy glared at him, her
voice muffled by his hand.

"Since tonight, it seems." Smiling ruefully,
he took his hand off her mouth. "Can you
feature that? Turns out I still got a few ethics
left."

"Congratulations," Buffy grumbled with
a scowl. "I'm real happy for you, but you
picked a lousy time to discover them."

"I agree," he said, kissing each small
hand. "Listen, sweetheart...you get some
sleep. You're gonna need it. Champagne
has a hell of a kick, specially if you're
not used to it."

"Spike..."

He let go of her hands and reached for a
quilt at the foot of the bed, covering
her with it. "In the morning," he added,
tucking her in like a sleepy child, "Take
some aspirin and have some weak tea and
crackers if your tummy's upset. Try to eat
anything else and I promise you'll be sorry."

"But, I..."

"I'm gonna go now and kick my ass all the
way home," he said, avoiding her seeking
hands. "Be a good little girl, and I'll come
see you tomorrow night."

As he turned to leave, Buffy rolled over
in bed and wrapped her arms around her
pillow. "All right," she said, trying to pro-
ject a false sincerity. "I'll be good. I'll
stay right here."

She looked over her shoulder at him
with innocent eyes. "I promise. You can
go now. Bye-bye."

Smiling to herself, she faced the
opposite wall again. She counted to
fifteen, then looked back at him. "Why
are you still here?"

Spike narrowed his eyes slightly. "You won't
do anything stupid...like go out and play with
vampires...will you?"

"No!" she said, a litle too quickly. "You were
right. I shouldn't go out slaying when I've
been drinking. There's lots of really dangerous
things out there. They're allllll over the place.
Dangerous."

She rolled back over to face him. "Besides,"
added, giving him her sweetest smile, "You
know I always try and do what you tell me."

Spike studied her carefully, trying to gauge
her intent. "I think you're bluffing," he said.
"But, I can't take a chance on it....

Buffy's eyes sparkled as she reclined back
into the pillows, patting the empty place
beside her invitingly.

"....so I'll be downstairs."

"SPIKE!" She popped back up like a broken
jack in the box. "I swear to GOD, if you walk
out that door and leave me then you may as
well just keep going and start a new life some-
where else, because I'll NEVER let you back
in. I'll revoke your invitation so fast you
won't know what hit you!"

"Buffy..."

"I mean it, Spike!." She pointed one finger
at him threateningly. "I'll have Willow double
bar this house with a whammy so strong it'll
bounce you into the next time zone!"

He lifted his hands in surrender. "All right. I'll
stay here. Settle down."

Sitting down beside her, he pulled off his
boots and dropped them next to the bed.

He leaned back against the headboard, arms
folded across his chest. "Bossy little brat."

In spite of his words, his tone of voice was
amused and affectionate, and Buffy's de-
meanor did an immediate about face.

"Thank you," she said. "I'll be good."

Spike rolled his eyes. "I'm sure."

Buffy sighed. "I mean it. I won't touch any-
thing that you don't want me to touch."

"That's the problem, luv. There IS nothing I
don't want you to touch."

"Okay, then I won't touch unless you ask me
to," she promised, certain that in less than
five minutes she would have him begging her
to touch.

"That's good to know." Spike reached over
and switched off the lamp on her nightstand.
"Now go to sleep."

"No kiss goodnight?" Buffy pouted, sliding
down until she was stretched out on her back.

Spike leaned over. "You just LIVE to torture
me, don't you?" he asked, brushing her lips
with a brotherly kiss. "Goodnight."

Buffy caught him. Wrapping him in her
embrace, she parted her lips beneath his.

A soft moan came from deep in his throat
as he slipped his arms around her and
pulled her snugly against him.

She took this as a sign of surrender, and
returned the kiss with passionate intent.

As he rolled over on top of her, her head
began swimming once again, making her
dizzy.

Her lashes were suddenly too heavy to
keep open, and the last thing she was clearly
aware of was a voice husky with desire,
murmuring in her ear, over and over.

"I love you, Buffy...I love you...love
you...love...."