Back to the Movies


Buffy was sitting at the table in the Magic Box, not thinking about evil, sexy vampires while Giles was telling her about a new book he'd finally gotten a hold of and how promising it looked.

In no way was she thinking about anything remotely resembling strong, sure fingers or cool lips. At least that was what she was trying to tell herself. She fidgeted while trying to look interested in Giles' monologue.

Her anxiety was not going unnoticed however. Giles interrupted himself and turned to her. "Are you quite alright, Buffy?"

"Huh?" She felt a bit disoriented. What had he been talking about again?

"You seem to be a million miles away."

"Oh, no, I'm just, just thinking about vampires. I mean, I was thinking about killing vampires. Yeah, to go on patrol."

"Buffy, it's at least an hour until sundown." Giles sighed and took of his glasses. Holding them, he pinched the bridge of his nose. "But since your mind is clearly more at the cemetery than here with me, I guess you'd better head out anyway."

She sprang to her feet, gave him a brief smile and rushed out the door.

A quick stop at home for a cold shower and then... Oh, no. Hold that thought. She didn't need any more cold showers. She'd had two already today. This was just silly. No reason at all for any cold showers. Just a stop at home for some supplies. Maybe a change of clothes… A short skirt perhaps, and some high heels...

"Aargh!!" Buffy stomped her foot, angry with herself. Why would she change into high heels? It wasn't as if she wanted to look good for anyone, was there?

Finally, in her bedroom, the jeans were exchanged for a skirt. There was no need to not look stylish. After all, she might encounter other people, not vampires. Hopefully no evil vampires at all. Wait a second, it was vampires she wanted to see so she could kill them. Just not one particular evil vampire.

Buffy glared at the high-heeled shoes that had somehow made it out of the closet to her bedside while she had tried on a couple of skirts. She would not be changing her footwear! The line had to be drawn somewhere.

Dusk had fallen just as she reached the cemetery. She walked slowly, her path winding between the headstones. A light breeze was starting to grow a little stronger, and the leaves on the ground whirled around her sensibly-shoed feet.

"Here, vampires. Heeere, vampires," she called softly, under her breath. "Come out, come out, wherever you are."

After two hours of no vampires, sexy or otherwise, she felt extremely irritated and decided to take the patrol into town. Maybe the vamps were hiding in some dank alley instead of the dead cemetery.

Not really thinking about where she went, mind occupied with trying not to ponder about anything at all, her path took her towards one alley in particular. She blinked and frowned as she realized that in front of her was the damn 'art theatre'.

The movie had changed. The new sign showed a man clothed in a white sheet-like thing with several naked women surrounding him, most of them kneeling at his feet. The big letters spelled out 'Cunnigula – every woman loved him'.

She felt the hair at the back of her neck rise. A vampire was near. And counting on her damned luck, it would obviously not be any vampire. Oh, no, she could be certain that it would be the one vampire she didn't want to catch her staring at a porno picture like some big pervert. She closed her eyes and swore silently but emphatically.

"Catching a movie, Slayer?"

The words were breathed in her ear, much closer than she'd expected him to be, the low timbre of his voice making her shiver. She opened her eyes and sighed.

"Not really. Just thinking that this would be a good place to find some vampires to kill. They should be drawn to a place like this." She turned and glared at him. "Oh, look, I was right. Here's a vampire."

He just smirked at her. "And here I thought you were looking to release some tension."

She snorted. "As if. Besides, that must be a really bad movie. They can't even spell the name right."

He gave her a questioning look.

"Cunnigula? Hello? Even I have heard of Caligula."

He stared at her. Then suddenly he burst into laughter, making her bristle in anger.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you laughing?" she asked angrily.

He looked up at the poster and then back at her, smiling. "The title is a play of words. It refers to Caligula sure enough, but also to cunnilingus. " When she just looked at him with furrowed brow, he leaned closer, lowering his voice to a seductive whisper. "Cunnilingus? The Latin word for going down on a woman."

For a second the words were meaningless to her. She looked blankly at him.

"You know. Eating pussy... Kissing the cunt, licking the labia, caressing the clit..."

At the crudeness of his words, she felt her face grow hot in a mix of embarrassment and arousal and a tingle between her thighs made her want to squirm.

"Oh." She didn't know what else to say and wouldn't have trusted her voice at that moment even if she'd had a retort.

He studied her for a moment, considering his options. She was damn cute when flustered. Longing for another chance to touch her he wanted to try and make a repeat of the other night. That experience had made some of his fantasies pale in comparison and he wondered what else he might be allowed to do – in the right setting.

Continuing in a more up-beat tempo he said cheerfully. "So, to sum it up, this is a movie taking place in ancient Rome with plenty of oral action... Wanna see it?"

She stared at him and burst out without thinking. "Are you crazy? A whole movie about... that! How interesting can it be?"

He smiled slowly, the tip of his tongue darting out briefly to lick his lips. She felt the tingle between her thighs increase and had trouble breathing normally.

"Oh, there's many a ways to doing... that, as you say. Many ways and many combinations. Don't tell me you haven't experienced it?"

She felt embarrassed and naive. Apart from that fateful night on her birthday, Angel had never really done anything more creative than heavy kissing and light touching – always keeping his hands outside the clothes.

Riley didn't like going down on her, but had once made an effort. She had sensed his reluctance and had, therefore, never really relaxed at the time. She would die before telling Spike that, though.

"Of course I have!"

"So?"

"So what?"

"Wanna see it?"

As she was a loss for words, she simply stood uncertainly, eyes looking everywhere but at him. He took her silence for acceptance and, grasping her elbow lightly, he walked them to the booth, bought two tickets and gently led her into the theatre.

She walked as in a trance, her mind telling her all the ways this was wrong. Her body did not listen.

Spike was elated. This had gone much easier than he'd expected. When they came in, he made a quick survey of the theatre. There were several seats occupied, but mostly in the front. He steered her to the back row, where the darkness was thickest, which meant the most privacy.

Buffy looked at the screen as she sat down, her breath catching in her throat.

The movie had apparently already started and the screen was currently showing the man from the poster who was kneeling in front of a sofa, busy licking at the wide open pussy in front of him. He used his tongue very fast on the top of the slit, and then made slower, longer licking strokes that went from the bottom to the top. The woman that was laying spread on the sofa was moaning all the while.

Buffy felt her whole body tightening and her panties getting wet. She hardly noticed Spike sitting down next to her, focusing only on the screen.

The Roman was now using a finger to slowly thrust in and out of the woman, the tip of his tongue going to the clit. The woman's moans had turned into rhythmic groans and Buffy felt close to moaning herself.

Spike was sitting next to her, half turned towards the screen, half towards her, though most of his attention was on Buffy. She seemed to be engrossed in the movie. Her breathing that had sped up as he talked dirty outside had deepened. He could sense her quick heartbeat and smell her arousal. Her mouth was half-open and now and then she would wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. The display was more than enough to make his lower parts stand up at attention.

As the woman on the screen came to a loud climax, he leaned close to her and whispered in her ear, "Unfortunately, this actor isn't all that good. There are some things I could teach him about the fine art, you know."

She shivered but didn't answer.

His erection pressed against the zipper of his pants. He decided it was time to make a play. Still leaning close to her, he put his right hand on her left thigh and whispered, "It's not just about the speed of the tongue, there's the amount of pressure to consider as well."

She didn't make a move to stop him, so he continued.

"For maximum pleasure, I've noticed it's often best to vary the pressure between feather-light small licks with the tip –" He gently moved his hand up and down her thigh, making her short skirt gradually ride up in the process. "-- And harder, firmer licks with the flat of the tongue." His hand went from the top of her thigh to the inside. Was it his imagination, or had she opened up her legs a little? Her eyes were half-closed, still looking at the movie, but not concentrating fully on it.

"When using the hands as well, it's important to be receptive of what the woman likes. Some enjoy a light finger on the clit and a tongue that thrusts deeply." His hand moved in circles on the inside of her thigh… she was definitely spreading them now. "While others prefer fingers that reach deeper inside and lips kissing or even lightly sucking on the clit." His fingertips reached the edge of the panties.

"Then there are those that go wild when teeth are used. Nipping, biting…" Her breathing was loud, and when he brushed the moist spot at her crotch, she gave a strangled gasp. "But for driving a woman over the edge completely, fingers are often more versatile than the tongue inside."

His fingertips were now rubbing her through the fabric with a steady rhythm. She was moving in time with his movements, her ass coming closer to the edge of the seat, the skirt all the way up by her hips.

"After having teased with one finger, you can insert two, then three, eventually maybe even four... A hard suckling on the clit usually does the trick of making her scream by then."

Spike used the tip of his tongue to trace the edge of her ear as he stilled the rhythm and firmly pressed down with his fingers. Buffy moved her hips upward in response as a low moan escaped her. His cock throbbed.

He decided to throw caution to the wind and see if she would admit the need he could feel in her. "Do you want me to show you?"

His voice was raspy and it vibrated inside her. Buffy felt as if she'd burst if she didn't say yes. Still, the annoying voice in her mind was screaming at her that this was so very wrong, on every level. Spike was absolutely still, his fingers still pressing down firmly on her sex, his lips barely brushing her ear, waiting.

On the screen, a woman who looked Asian had entered the scene. The first woman, a blonde, Buffy distantly noted, had decided to return the favor bestowed upon her and was admiring the Roman's erection as she prepared to suck him off. The Asian woman hadn't wasted any time to dispose of her clothes and was, at the moment, situating herself on top of the man's face.

In the dark, Buffy felt as if she was floating, disconnected from the real world. The air was charged with sex and she didn’t want to be left out. Considering how good his fingers had felt, how high could she fly if he put that sinfully wicked tongue in the equation? She didn’t want to care about right or wrong anymore, she only wanted to feel.

"Yes." Her voice was breathless, barely audible, but his keen senses picked it up. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to rein in his impulses, which were to rip the panties off her, open his trousers and lift her to his lap for a hard ride on his painfully erect cock.

Silently, in a flowing movement, and unmindful of the rather sticky condition of the floor, Spike kneeled between Buffy's legs. His right hand was joined with his left and together they gently tugged at her panties. Her hips lifted slightly and the small piece of clothing went down her legs and off her completely. He was looking straight at her wet center and thought ironically that he had gone to heaven without needing to die a final death. He wet his lips and put both hands on her smooth thighs, pressing them further apart.

He looked up at her face as her legs parted. She stared down at him wide-eyed. A slight wave of panic crossed her face and she quickly looked up at the screen as if trying to pretend she didn't know he was between her legs.

His hands roamed up her thighs to her hips. Taking them in a firm grip he pulled her a few inches forward so her ass was on the very edge of the seat, giving him full access to her wet center. He started by inhaling her musky aroma and nearly came right there.

He clamped down firmly on his control, and to the movie's sounds of "Lick me harder! Faster!" and general moans, he closed in on his own private Heaven.

Very lightly he kissed her full on the nether lips. She shivered.

Spike began to lick the opening of her pussy in gentle, soft strokes. Ah, the wonderful taste! That tangy, musky and erotic taste of an aroused Buffy. Ever since the last time in this very theater he’d been imagining how she would taste and he was delighted to find that he hadn't exaggerated how scrumptious he found this to be. He'd have to hold hard on his self-control so this wouldn't be over before it started.

His hands at her hips, his licks went from the bottom up to the top, but stopping just millimeters from touching the clit. Buffy's breaths were loud and in synch with his licks.

His thumbs began making a spiraling trail at the juncture of her pelvis. They came to the edge of her sex and stilled. His licks sped up a bit, in both tempo and pressure. Every now and then he paused and ghosted her clit teasingly for a few seconds before continuing feasting on her weeping opening as a cat with a full bowl of mild. Then, without warning, he stiffened his tongue and thrust it inside. Buffy's hips jerked upwards in response and she moaned softly.

Withdrawing for a moment, Spike looked up at the Slayer, the one girl chosen to slay his kind. Half-laying in her seat, flushed and wide open, she was breathtaking.

At the loss of contact she opened her eyes that had fallen shut during his ministrations and looked at him with confusion. He searched the pockets of his duster and found a handkerchief. Giving it to her with a smile, he whispered, "You might want to have something to bite into, to muffle your screams in a little while." A look of outrage flitted across her face, but before she had the chance to think of a suitable response, he thrust a finger inside her and all thought was gone. "Watch the movie, luv," he said, laughter near the surface.

Still thrusting in and out with the single finger, Spike lowered his head once more and gently blew on her swollen clit. Buffy whimpered, then opened her eyes wide and gave a yelp as he gave it one firm lick. She quickly stuffed the handkerchief in her mouth, casting a worried glance around the dark room to see if anyone had noticed. The few people in the audience seemed engrossed in the movie or each other and Buffy looked back up at the screen.

The black-haired woman on the screen was keening loudly as she rode the man's face. Her fingers were pinching her nipples and the man's hands were grasping her buttocks hard, marking her in the flesh. The blonde was alternating deep-throating him and licking him like a popsicle.

A fresh wave of moisture flowed at the sight, and she heard a low growl from the vampire between her legs. He began lapping firmly at her clit as the single finger became two that thrust in and out in a steady pace.

Buffy felt her insides tremble, the excitement winding tighter and tighter, the release so close. Suddenly the thrusting stilled with his fingers still deep inside her. She felt his lips barely lying against her clit and tried to buck up for some friction, but a strong hand pressed down on her hip, stilling her movement. After a couple of seconds that felt like days, the two fingers were drawn out, then quickly replaced with three. At the same time, his lips latched on to her clit and sucked hard - and she exploded.

Even with the handkerchief in her mouth, a distinct orgasmic groan was heard in the theatre. The sounds of rutting from the screen drowned out some of it, but a couple of people closest to them turned around in their seats. Buffy distantly noted this but couldn’t find the energy to care. Not seeing any details because it was too dark, they soon turned back to the movie and she closed her eyes and let herself slowly calm down.

Spike pulled out his fingers, licked up her juices, then gently pulled down her skirt and sat up in his seat beside her, wincing at the chafing to his erection.

Buffy lay still in her seat for several minutes, eyes firmly closed, breathing heavily. Then she opened her eyes and took out the fabric from her mouth. She sat up straighter, turning her head and looked at him with an unreadable look on her face. Spike looked back, trying to look calm and collected even though his arousal was killing him.

She nodded towards the exit and he got up, making sure the coat was covering his lower parts. They exited and walked silently, side by side, down the alley towards the larger road a few blocks away.

Just before stepping out on the somewhat brighter sidewalk, Buffy paused. Spike stopped and looked back at her, wondering if she would threaten him once again. She looked down at the ground, seemingly debating something with herself. Then she looked up into his eyes.

"Thanks."

The softly spoken word made his head spin.

"My pleasure." He wasn't sure if he should try more innuendo, but decided against it. She'd probably had all the innuendo, not to mention blunt crudeness, she would take this night.

She hesitated, nodded briefly, and then walked briskly past him, out to the street, heading home.

As he fingered her soaked panties in his coat pocket, trying to figure out the fastest way home so he could relieve himself, he suddenly smiled widely. She had kept the handkerchief!

The End

After the Movies

The moon shone down on the cemetery.

Mist was curling its tendrils around the gravestones and the air was crisp but not particularly cold.

A perfect night for a horror movie, the blonde thought as she walked among the tombs, a piece of wood spinning like a cheerleading baton in her right hand.

Horror movie... Movie theatre...

Buffy felt her body begin to warm as her thoughts wandered. An image of wicked blue eyes flashed in her mind and a sudden surge of heat from between her legs stopped her short.

"Oh my God! I'm day-dreaming about him again! Or night-dreaming, or... Whatever! Why, oh why did I let him do it? Why did he have to whisper those horrible, awful, wonderful things that made me weak in the knees and lose my head?"

But even while muttering under her breath she knew the truth: the truth that even after the first time in that dingy hole with the bad smell, she had been aching for it. Aching for him. For Spike.

And after the second orgasm two nights ago she couldn't deny it any longer.

While vehemently denying that she'd liked what he'd done the first time – what she had *wanted* him to do – she'd gone back to the very same place and let him do – wanted him to do – even more things.

Oral sex.

Wasn't that irony at its finest? Her best experience at oral sex had been with an evil, undead vampire in a porn theatre.

And she had loved. Every. Single. Second.

When she'd gone home that night she had felt more relaxed and happy than she had in a very long time. Afterwards the guilt had crashed over her, of course. She had cheated on her boyfriend! Not that she and Riley had been very serious these last few weeks. Truth be known, she'd had a feeling for some time now that they didn't have a future. But she still felt guilty and a little sad when she broke it off with him the next day. It had been a small relief that he hadn't seemed heartbroken: Merely sad and resigned, as if he'd seen it coming.

Of course, that now left her free to ponder the sexual experiences she had had with an evil vampire. The experiences she couldn't get off her mind. The experiences she was yearning to expand on.

Yes, it was way past pretending that she didn't want it, that she didn't want *him*.

But at the same time she had a hard time figuring out exactly what it was she wanted to pursue with him. She was drawn to him, without a doubt. He was good-looking. He was even damn sexy, no arguing about that.

But he was a vampire. Buffy’s thoughts circled back to the nagging point once again.

True, Angel was a vampire, but he had a soul. Spike didn't have a soul, just a leash in his head. A leash that had admittedly made it possible for her to get to know the man behind the monster – a very annoying man who seemed to think that his unlife's mission was to make her head spin. And he made her feel... Angry, frustrated, sexy, embarrassed, excited, and a whole range of other emotions she couldn't even describe.

He made her feel so alive.

And she wanted more.

And Spike very obviously wanted her. That had been some hard-on he'd sported that first time. It had surprised her, but secretly made her proud when she'd felt him grinding his erection against her ass; it had made her feel like a desirable woman.

She put her hand in the pocket of her jacket. There it was. The handkerchief that he'd given her the second time. The one she'd put in her mouth at his recommendation and bit into to muffle her scream as she'd come. Violently.

She flushed with remembered heat.

And felt a tingle from her Slayer senses.

She remained frozen and listened, then turned her head slightly to the left and looked at the tree a few yards away.

"I know you're there."

"Of course you know." He appeared from behind the tree right next to the one she’d expected and Buffy felt strangely annoyed that she'd missed exactly which tree he was hiding behind.

He prowled up to her like the predator of the night that he was, but with that neutral expression on his face he looked almost guarded.

She looked at him as he stopped in front of her, absorbing the sight of him in that ever present black coat, combat boots sticking out beneath it. She was trying not to look him directly in the eye, since she was fairly certain she would blush at the naughty thoughts that had been and were still going through her mind.

The silence stretched uncomfortably.

"Umm, so, are you – stalking me?" she said, trying to sound threatening but mostly finding herself working on holding her voice steady.

"Yeah, sort of." He half-smiled. "Actually, I just got your back, is all."

Where were the wicked barbs? She wondered why he looked so... hesitant. Was he worried or something? He did want her, she'd gotten used to that weird piece of information. Could it be that she actually had the upper hand right now?

Maybe it was time to do something about what she wanted.

She started walking, body half-turning towards him on the first steps to indicate that she wanted him to follow. He complied and they walked in silence for a couple of minutes.

"I guess you saw I dusted a couple of fledglings earlier, if you've been following me?"

He chuckled, the sound sending a fresh wave of excitement up her spine.

"Yeah, didn't follow you just to help with those easy targets. Took care of a lizard demon just after sunset myself, so I merely wanted to check if any more of them hung around."

'Yeah, right! As if!' she thought. Well, it was time for her to end this slay-ride. It was decision time for indecisive Buffy. Stomach fluttering nervously, she took a breath and jumped right into the scary pool of taking-the-first- step.

"So, you have a TV in that hole in the ground you call a home?"

He almost stumbled, but recovered quickly, giving her a wary look from the corner of his eyes. "You know I do; watch Passions on it, don' I?"

"Got a DVD-player to go with it?"

This time he stopped. Full-out stopped and just looked at her. She turned around with her heart beating hard. He had his head tilted a bit and looked at her with narrowed eyes. She felt a blush crashing over her like a tidal wave and had to lower her eyes. But, in for a penny...

"I just wondered if you wanted to watch a movie with me."

She heard him suck in his breath, hard. She held hers. Waited. Glanced up and watched his soft mouth as one side of it curled at the corner.

"I've got the equipment, sure enough."

Oh, *there* was that innuendo she'd expected. She was almost relieved that he behaved in a manner more normal for him, even though it made her bite her tongue not to say something angry in response.

His eyes glided down her body slowly and then up again.

Buffy shivered as goose-bumps broke out on her arms.

"You got a movie on you or should we go rent one?"

She swallowed against a suddenly dry throat.

Wow, she'd tried the most inviting thing she could imagine and he'd not only taken it in stride (well, mostly), he'd even one-upped on her and called her – well, not bluff exactly; she hadn't intended to bluff, she wanted to be clear without spelling it out. Now she had to go along with the concept of movies or he'd think she was just playing with him.

She took a deep breath, mind swirling. Step up now, Buffy, or walk away.

"I don't have anything on me. You don't have anything at your place?"

Suddenly he was in her face and she hadn't even noticed him moving. It took all her Slayer reflexes to keep from flinching.

"What are you playing at, luv?" His voice was slow and dark like liquid chocolate. Her blush had to be a constant by now.

"No playing," she whispered and forced herself to look him in the eye, seeing herself reflected in the deep blue pools. His expression changed from suspicion to an open, softer one. It was difficult to read, but something in it made her lower her eyes again.

"Doesn't your soldier boy have any movies?"

She jerked as if slapped, then forced herself to calm down. It was actually a valid question. "We're not together anymore."

His exhale was loud and she didn't dare to look at him, but after a moment she felt his hand take hers in a loose hold and he gently turned her around, walking silently towards his crypt.

Buffy could feel her heartbeat all the way up in her throat as they arrived, and suddenly they were through the door. She stopped and looked at the lone couch in front of the small TV.

He let go of her hand, continued to move inwards and opened up the stone slab in the floor, indicating the downstairs.

When she made a hesitant move with her hand towards the TV he shook his head.

"That one's not hooked to a player. 've got another one below." He disappeared down the hole.

She was left standing, knowing this was her last chance to back down. She thought about the last few years and all the changes Spike had gone through. The first time she met him, he’d been just another vicious monster. His devotion to Drusilla had been somewhat startling, giving him a more nuanced appearance than a cold-blooded killer, and then somewhere during the whole Angelus affair he had turned from dangerous enemy to a dangerous ally.

When he got himself chipped he had come around, desperate and seemingly helpless. She’d thought him pathetic until they discovered he still could be dangerous in less direct ways if he wanted to.

But lately she was coming to realize that he often opted not to do the damage. Without fully acknowledging it, she'd watched him slowly turning towards the side of good, even if at first it had been because they were the ones supplying blood and money and because the demon population had turned its back on him. Lately, he seemed to actually enjoy his life. Well, un-life. Parts of it anyway.

And finally, these last few days – when she'd realized she was strangely comfortable with his presence. She even counted on it, as if it was as natural as having Willow and Xander and Giles nearby. As if he was becoming a friend, no matter how strange that seemed.

Then they'd had their first encounter in the theatre, after which she hadn't been able to stop thinking about him. Finally the second encounter, that had made her long for his touch. So now here she was, with eyes wide open intending to have sex with a soulless evil vampire. ...Who had a chip instead of a soul, and who had done more good the past year than many people with souls, who hadn't drunk human blood in a year, and who actually seemed to care about her...

She nodded silently to herself and climbed down the ladder.

He had already lit some candles. Just enough too see by but not enough to call the place well-lit. She appreciated it.

He had taken off his coat and stood there in his tight jeans, heavy boots and T-shirt, with his back to the ladder. As Buffy came closer she saw that the big cupboard in front of him turned out to have a TV and a DVD player behind the doors and she silently marvelled at his ability to adapt a bare crypt into something resembling an actual home.

He glanced over his shoulder. A black canvas book with inserted DVD-discs was open in his hands.

"What do you want to see?"

A perfectly normal and ordinary question.

So why was his voice caressing her in that way? And where had her own voice been taken? She mentally shook herself and cleared her throat.

"I have no idea; you choose."

Instead of choosing a disc he put down the canvas holder, took her by the elbow and steered her to the bed.

Her heart beat loudly in her ears as she sank down on the coverlet.

Spike sat down next to her, almost but not quite touching. Cocking his head to one side, he looked at her carefully. "Can't rightly choose for you if I don't know what it is you're after. Is there anything in particular you want me to show you, or teach you?"

She turned wide eyes towards him. Glancing back at the blank screen of the TV she saw a distorted image of herself sitting alone on the big bed and something cold suddenly clenched her stomach.

Did he think she was here only to learn things? Shame filled her.

"I– I didn't mean it like that... I just want to... That is... I just... Want... More..." She murmured but he heard her.

He made a small sound and she looked up at him. His blue eyes were almost grey now, but she couldn't tell if they had darkened in anger or in some other emotion. His voice was soft, his inflexion bland, not hinting at his thoughts.

"You want more... of what I did to you?"

She nodded, hanging her head a bit, feeling very embarrassed.

"Or do you want more... of me?"

Buffy's head snapped up and she stared at him. Yes, that was the crucial point, wasn't it?

She swallowed and at last managed to make her voice work. "...You."

A tremor seemed to go through him and tension that hadn't been apparent earlier bled away from his frame. He raised a hand and pulled a lock of hair behind her ear.

"In that case, how about we dispense with the movie and concentrate on us and this bed instead, shall we?"

She nodded, relieved and terrified at the same time.

"In a situation like this, I imagine a kiss would be appropriate to start with..." His voice lowered into that sensual tone again, the one that made her insides melt, and his face slowly moved towards her, giving her ample opportunity to draw away. She turned her face upwards instead and welcomed his lips as he leaned into her.

They were gentle, soft, and felt like cool silk. Buffy had imagined his kisses being hard and almost brutal, but this kiss started out slow, almost delicate at first. His tongue caressed her lips, not quite slipping inside her mouth, tantalizingly playing at the edge. Just as she began to feel frustrated and decided to take her own tongue into the equation he pulled back.

They looked into each others eyes. Buffy had taken hold of his upper arms during the kiss but Spike hadn't touched her apart from with his lips yet. She became uncertain and her hands fell away. Spike sat up and she felt a twinge of disappointment that turned to anticipation when she saw him taking off his black shirt.

She put her hands back on his arms before giving it any thought. They were muscled but lean, the pale skin soft to the touch, and she slowly let her hands glide up towards his broad shoulders, fascinated by the feel of his hard muscles trembling slightly under his smooth cool skin. She stopped for a moment at his broad shoulders before hesitantly letting them glide down the chest, where her hands explored the lines and the planes down towards his stomach. Unsurprisingly, it was not simply flat, but muscled; like every other part of his body, she'd imagine.

Spike was still as a statue during this, and when she came to the lining of his jeans she looked up to see if there was something wrong. Her breath caught in her throat. His mouth was half-open, his eyes almost black from the enormous way his pupils had expanded, and the expression of his face was one of pure lust. She licked her lips nervously as she let her hands fall away, only to have him make a move towards her that was immediately checked.

"Can I touch you?" His normally so smooth voice was hoarse and her nervousness lessened as she realized that he was apprehensive as well.

The vampire with more than a hundred years experience was nervous in front of her, a girl still in her teens! She smiled a little, confidence returning. "Yes. Please!"

Spike smiled in return and his whole bearing relaxed once more. His hands began to unbutton her blouse. She sat still and watched him looking at her as the garment fell open; he draw a soft breath in appreciation at the sight. She shook her shoulders to let it fall off her completely and he looked up at her face, the small grin on his lips slowly turning towards that predatory smile he so often had when he acted as a 'pig' as she called it.

Leaning in, he kissed her again, this time more forcefully and his hands now touched her waist. He made them sink back on the bed, him above, but not pressing against her, instead holding himself slightly above so they didn't touch apart from hands and lips.

She felt him explore her sides and stomach as they continued to kiss. Emboldened after the appreciative looks she'd gotten, she resumed skirting the waistband of his jeans, only to have it disappear from her grasp as he moved downwards from her lips to her neck and shoulders. Buffy didn't feel even a twinge of fright from the feel of his teeth as his breath cooled her hot skin.

Long, slow kisses mapped the skin of her collarbone. She fingered his neck in return and relished the feel of his soft hair at the nape.

Finally Spike's lips and tongue found her breasts and he covered every inch of them methodically.

Buffy enjoyed it all immensely, but she had a feeling he was drawing out on it for some reason. Aroused and excited, but starting to feel a bit frustrated, she whispered, "Please, I want more."

Spike's head came up, and with a grin he replied, "Oh, you'll get more, you'll get it all. If you want. And if you can be patient."

Still looking her in the eye, his hands came to the top of her pants and he opened them and gently drew them down her legs.

Now only in her panties, Buffy suddenly felt exposed, and a slight tremor of excitement and nervousness suffused her body as his hands returned to her hips, fingers catching the edge of the small slip of still remaining fabric and gently drawing it down the same path as the pants.

He felt her body shiver and kissed her knees as her final garment went past them. As soon as they were on the floor, he wrapped both hands around one foot and gently let them slide up along the leg, as if committing the shape of her to his memory by touch alone. Once he reached mid-thigh, he stopped and stood up.

He was looking down at her lying displayed in all her naked glory and Buffy expected a lascivious smile, but was instead met with an expression that was almost reverent.

"Gorgeous." His whispered word made her whole body tingle.

She kept wide eyes on him as he started on his own pants. As they came off she swallowed. She'd felt his erection a couple of times, often in passing as they fought, more intimately recently. Still, seeing the length up close, standing hard and ready, was something to make a note of. It was just thick enough to make her mouth water with anticipation and just long enough that she thought it would surely make her scream.

All of his muscled body was like a work of art. An ancient Greek would have been proud of his masterpiece had he been able to capture the lines displayed in front of her.

She smiled and said softly, "Right back at ya."

His surprised little chuckle and a very cute little downtuck of his head that looked almost shy made her more daring than ever and she held out her arms for him.

Spike joined her on the bed, kissing her again, this time with more force, and she could feel the mounting passion in his still restrained movements. He continued working at her lips until she needed to draw away to catch her breath

"Please, Spike, touch me?" She heard her voice as if from afar and felt surprised at the needy tone in it. He didn't hesitate, but drew his hand down her side until he met her hips, then continued on his journey to her inner thighs. She eagerly let her legs fall open and heard him murmur something unintelligible against her cheek. When his fingers met her wetness he hissed and backed up a little so he could see her.

He took two fingertips and gently traced her opening. She moved her hips, trying to make his fingers glide inside her, and he looked at her in obvious wonder and joy, mouth half-open. "Still want more, Buffy?"

She nodded and let out her breath in a moan as his fingers slid inside, pumping softly and making his thumb barely graze her nub each time they were all the way in.

Buffy was panting harshly by now, and trying desperately to focus. She wanted to touch him, to reciprocate, but discovered some coordination problems. In her mind, she laughed. A Slayer having difficulties with coordination; how appropriate that it was a vampire who was the cause.

Her arms had been hugging loosely around Spike's back, and now she let them roam down his spine, all the way to his buttocks. He gave a surprised jerk as she grabbed them and squeezed lightly.

"More!" she gasped and tried to find his erection with suddenly desperate hands, to see if she could guide him with motion, instead of trying to explain in words that failed her.

He got her message clear enough when her hand finally landed on him and she spread her legs even wider. He took out his fingers and took a moment to lick them clean with a look of delight on his face. Then he lowered himself between her legs and gently probed her opening with the head of his cock. Buffy wrapped her legs around his hips and ardently helped push him inside.

They both moaned and Spike set up a steady rhythm. "I won't last long, luv." His voice was hoarse and needy. "You're so warm and so wet and so wonderful. Oh, god, how wonderful you feel. You’re burning me, luv, burning me all up."

She tried to explain to him that it didn't matter, she wasn't far from the edge herself, but all she got out were breathless little gasps of, "Ok. Ok."

He seemed to get her meaning anyway and increased the pace a bit, kissing her deeply, holding himself from crushing her with one hand on the mattress and trying to find her clit with the other. His hands shook and she marvelled over the impact she seemed to have on him just as her climax overtook her in a couple of long, deep waves.

He reared up with his upper body and watched her as she came. As soon as she was finished he let himself loose and shook against her. "Oh, god!" he moaned and she looked, entranced, at the vision above her.

Afterwards they lay spent, still entwined when she murmured, "Thank you, Spike."

He glided out of her and lay down on his side, watching her with a look of wonder, one hand firmly on her stomach as if to make sure she was really there and not some vivid dream about to melt away. "My pleasure, Buffy."

She smiled at him. "Mine too, actually."

He grinned a bit manically and said, "I think I got that," and waggled his eyebrows.

She hit him playfully on the shoulder. "Pig!"

"You know it, baby." His playful attitude melted away and his demeanour turned serious. "This was wonderful, and I know I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, but... Why?"

She glanced sideways at him. She could always play dumb and pretend she didn't understand. But she really didn't want to. This was too good to give up and she was tired of pretending.

"Because you make me feel."

He frowned in confusion. "Feel what?"

"Everything. " She leaned in and kissed him, then looked him over.

"I feel all kinds of emotions with you. I don't like all of it, but the things I do like," – she smiled at him – "I like a lot."

His hand caressed her cheek. "So, you might want to do this again, sometime?"

Her eyes twinkled, "Definitely, Spike. Can we start right now?"

He laughed in amazement and pushed all other questions aside as the Slayer leaned over to kiss him. Buffy was here and she wasn't regretting anything for the moment. That was all that mattered right now.

The End