Stupid guys. Stupid guys and their stupid libidos. It was their fault. She was the Slayer. She was supposed to be strong and independent and all those other things Giles wanted her to be. Why did she keep letting those poopheads get to her? Why did she have to like poopheads? Because that's what Parker was – a poophead – in Willow's words. In her words, he was an asshole. A horny asshole who would leave after he'd had a taste of you.

Seemed like any other teenage guy. Or any vampire cursed with a soul.

For once, she wanted a guy who would be there in the morning after they'd slept together. A guy who wouldn't turn evil after she'd given him everything.

In this world, once may be too much to ask.

Buffy wrapped her arms around herself as she walked across campus. The leaves of the bushes to her left rustled, and she cast a sideways glance it. “Great,” she grumbled. A demon was going to come out from hiding behind the bushes and attack her. She sighed, wondering when her slayer duties would ever end.

And as she expected, Spike jumped out of the bushes with a growl, hands imitating claws and face in vampire visage. He shifted back into his human features, grimacing when he saw the Slayer staring at him with a deadpan expression on her face. “Oh. It's just you.”

“What are you still doing here?” she asked. If glares could kill, Spike would have already been dust. But it wasn't like it was terrible seeing Spike. She couldn't say she hated seeing him because boy, was he easy on the eyes. Aside from him possibly being the most irritating creature ever made, her rudeness to him was mostly because of the whole vampire-slayer rule.

Oh, and there was also the fact that he'd tried to kill her and her friends more than once.

“Free country, isn't it?” Spike sneered, hooked his thumbs on his pants' belt loops and rocked on his heels, pondering what was going on in that cute noggin of hers. “You're not the Queen of Sunnydale, are you?” he added, and Buffy growled in annoyance. “Thought I'd have a snack before I left.”

Buffy raised a skeptical eyebrow. “And you chose to do it here. At my school. Near my dorm.”

“Didn't think you'd be here. I was hoping to find some cute little bird. Maybe a sorority girl. It's been a while since I've had one of those.” Spike let out a dreamy sigh.

Buffy's eyes widened when the first thing she thought of was Spike going at it with some blond sorority girl. She scrunched up her nose in disgust at the images that formed in her mind. Spike helped them once and it was because he hated Angel and wanted Drusilla back. It didn't mean he and Buffy could bond and talk about his past conquests, especially ones involving sexual activities of any kind. “You're a pig, Spike.”

With a teasing smirk he said, “I was talking about blood.”

“Right,” she said, stood up straight and lifted her chin up. “I-I knew that!”

He gave her a disbelieving look. “Besides, God knows what disease... And I'll have you know, I've never––”

“Ugh!” Buffy let out an exasperated sigh. Though she could ogle Spike and his ridiculously blue eyes all day, she'd had enough of his non-stop yammering. “You're telling me, the Slayer, that you're here to feed? Do you have a freakin' death wish?”

Spike ducked his head. “Already dead.”

Buffy frowned. Spike looked like he was about to start talking about how awful his life was. She hoped he wouldn't.

“Maybe I do have one.” He shrugged his shoulders and if Buffy didn't know better, she would have thought he pouted.

Buffy couldn’t care less about what problems Spike had. She doubted he even had any. He was a soulless creature, one who was doing his best to get on her last nerve at the moment, and he couldn't possibly have feelings. Oh, and she remembered – she didn't have to be here! “I don't know why I'm still talking to you,” she muttered, shaking her head as she walked past him.

And of course, her night wouldn't be complete without Spike being all insightful. “Because you're lonely,” Spike said, breaking Buffy's stride. “Because that wanker, what's his face, hurt you.”

She turned to him with a deadly glare. She was angry that the huskiness of his voice gave her chills when it shouldn't have. Stupid creamy sex voice! He did that on purpose, to make her weak, to confuse her with feelings she shouldn't feel, but she remained impervious to it. Yes, siree! His tactics did not amuse her. “Stay. Away. From me, Spike.”

Instead of spending the night alone, walking in solitude and brooding as she had planned, she got Spike. Now, all she wanted was to go to bed and wallow. Wallowing was of the good. Spike? Not so much.

But Spike wouldn't be Spike if he gave up easily. He showed no sign of relenting. It had been a while since he'd actually talked to someone not as dumb as a post like Harmony. The Slayer wasn't exactly the most interesting person to talk to, but she was certainly better than a unicorn-loving bint.

He also wanted to find out how long Buffy would endure talking to him. She could have left or staked him before he'd spoken one word to her, but she had not done either one. It made him wonder if she secretly had some kind of feelings for him aside from hatred and disgust.

“Made me curious,” he said, trailing behind her as she walked away from him. Buffy ignored him and pretended not to hear him, but he went on. “What you did that the git couldn't handle.” He smirked, remembering when said curiosity made him imagine the Slayer in ways he'd never imagined her before.

But she didn't need to know that.

Buffy stopped walking, spun around and socked Spike in the face. She was enraged that all his comments hit home. How did he know which nerve to strike every time? It was what she'd thought all along, that she did things the wrong way. No one could blame her for her doubts. Her ex-boyfriend was a vampire whom she'd sent to hell. Those types of relationships were traumatic.

“That was a compliment!” Spike shouted and brought his hand to the bridge of his nose while grimacing in pain. Clenching his jaw, he retaliated with a punch to her nose.

Buffy groaned and put a hand to her nose. She shot daggers at the vampire, dropping her hand to her side before saying, “If you're looking for the ring of Amara, I don't have it any more. You're only wasting your time.”

Spike's eyebrow shot up in interest. “Gave it to your sweetheart, did you?”

“No. We destroyed it,” she said, grinning smugly.

“What?” he asked incredulously, his voice higher pitched than usual. “You stupid bint!”

Buffy rolled her eyes and was about to walk away when something bit her on her arm. “Ow!” She soothingly rubbed her arm. “What the hell was that?” she asked, scanning the area for the culprit.

Spike raised his hands and took a step back. “I didn't do anything to you.” But bloody hell, did he want to, though this wasn't the time or place. He'd have that one good day, but it wasn't today. He wanted things fair and square and the Slayer was too depressed to put up a good fight. If he wanted, it could all be over in a few minutes. Where would be the fun in that? He enjoyed their dance; it aroused him in every sense of the word.

“Something bit me!” Buffy mentally groaned. Her night couldn't get any worse.

Lips pursed and frowning, Spike said, “And I care, why?”

Buffy let out a sigh of exasperation. “Get out of my town, Spike, before...” The anger and disgust all turned into pure lust when she started to take notice of Spike's piercing blue eyes and his sharp cheekbones. She slowly tilted her head to the side, a goofy grin on her face as she gazed at him in admiration, having melted into a puddle of lusty, horny goo.

Confused, and just a tad bit curious, his brows knitted together as Buffy gave him a mouth-watering stare. “What?” he asked.

Buffy righted herself, fidgeting with the hem of her blue top. “N-nothing,” she said nervously, feeling like a schoolgirl with a major crush. She had to pull herself together if she'd have any chance with Spike. Although judging by his choice in women, she wouldn't have a problem getting him at all. A flirtatious smile crept over her face and she bit her lip.

Spike stepped back, eyes narrowed at her, as she twirled her hair around her finger. “Right. I'm going,” he said, pointing a thumb behind him.

“W-wait.” Buffy put a hand up to stop him. This wouldn't be as easy as she thought.

An insect flew near Spike and he swatted it away as he waited for what the Slayer had to say. The insect was determined to bite him, as it kept fluttering around him. Despite all his flailing, the bug managed to land long enough to bite him on the forehead.

“Bloody hell!” Spike said. He covered his forehead with his hand. His arm slowly dropped to his side as he stared, awe-filled at Buffy who was sashaying towards him. She did have that beautiful golden hair, that cute little nose, those pouty lips, those perky little breasts...

Buffy strutted towards the blond vampire one step at a time, keeping her eyes steadily trained on him, as he watched her through deep, dark, hooded eyes, head cocked and lips parted slightly. The smell of her arousal intoxicated him, and his cock hardened instantly. In a flash, they were sharing a torrid kiss. Soft moans were stifled with harsh, needy lips as hands gripped the other desperately.

Buffy's dainty but strong hands traveled over his muscled arms to his face. Spike's hands brushed aside her coat, cupping her breasts before pushing it off her shoulders, letting it fall to the pathway. He pulled her behind a tree and pulled away from their kiss. Buffy gazed at him quizzically before he pushed her to the ground, soon covering her body with his.

**********

Buffy woke up with a start when she heard someone scream beside her. The sunlight streaming in between the leaves of the tree they were under had lit patches of Spike's skin on fire. He hurriedly grabbed his coat and his clothes and covered himself as much as he could with them. Putting out most of the flames with his coat and hands, he ran to the nearest building.

Once inside, Spike headed for the closest bathroom, clutching his coat closed but not caring if anybody saw his dick. All he cared about was not bursting into flames and getting some relief for his burns.

Unfortunately for him, the first he came to was the women's bathroom. He crashed through the door, startling the girls re-touching their make-up, washing their hands, and fixing their hair by the sinks. They all turned around, screamed and ran out of the bathroom when Spike shouted, “What are you looking at?” He charged to the nearest sink, turned the faucet on and quickly splashed water all over his body. The water's coolness soothed his painful burns. He exhaled deeply.

Buffy propped herself up on her elbows, realizing she was outside, during broad daylight, and naked. “Oh my God!” Her cheeks burned red with humiliation, and she reached around the ground for her clothes. With a whimper, she stared at her spaghetti-strap top which now looked like a rag. She quickly pulled her pants up and put her cardigan on, having no time to find her underwear. Besides, if she found it, she knew it wouldn't be wearable anymore. She then ran as fast as her legs could take her to her dorm room.

She burst into the room and hurriedly closed the door behind her, leaning against it. Breathing heavily and trying to catch her breath, she shut her eyes and swallowed hard. Her cheeks were still flushed and would probably stay like that for a while.

“Buffy, where were you? You didn't come home last night.” Willow had been slipping some books and a notebook into her bag when Buffy came in. She stood by her bed, looking worriedly at Buffy.

Great, Buffy thought to herself as she slowly opened her eyes. She crossed her arms across her chest to cover herself over her buttoned up cardigan. “I-I had some things to take care of.” It was unconvincing, but it was better than not answering. She walked to the space between her and Willow's bed, glancing at her best friend who was following her with her eyes.

“Are you okay?” Willow asked when she saw the dried leaves tangled in Buffy's hair.

“Uh-huh.” Buffy nodded and chuckled nervously. She spun around to face Willow and stood uneasily, smiling widely.

Willow approached Buffy, took her by the hand and pulled her to sit on the edge of her bed. They needed to have a talk. “Look, Buffy, I know what Parker did to you was...”

Willow continued to talk but Buffy didn't hear her. All Buffy saw was Spike sitting beside her, waggling his eyebrows at her and showing off that obnoxiously adorable smirk of his. “You want me, love, don't you?” she heard him say. He leaned into her ear and whispered, “Tell me you want me.”

Buffy took Willow's hands, which she thought were Spike's hands, and said in a sultry voice, “I want you.”

Willow quickly got up, waving her hands frantically and shaking her head vigorously. “Oh, no, no, no. I like penises! M-mostly just Oz' penis, b-but I like the penis in general. I mean who wouldn't like...”

At the penis penis penis she heard, Buffy snapped back to reality. She blinked at Willow, utterly confused. “What?”

“B-but it's not that you aren't pretty. I mean, y-you're gorgeous! If I liked boobies then I'd definitely want yours.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I don't know.” Willow frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Buffy stared at the floor, fidgeting her hands, which were clasped between her knees. “I don't know either.”

A beat.

“I'm late for class,” Willow stammered before grabbing her bag from her bed, casting a suspicious sideways glance at Buffy. She waved at Buffy, a slightly horrified and baffled look on her face, opened the door and left.

Buffy plopped back on her bed and mumbled, “Well, that was awkward.”

TBC...

Spike felt invigorated. He swaggered out of the ladies' room, fully clothed, with his head held high and a big smile on his face. Almost turning into dust had given him new perspective on things, specifically, on the Slayer.

It didn't matter that his burns still felt like they were on fire. It didn't matter that they used to be mortal enemies. It didn't matter that she had destroyed the ring of Amara, the one thing he thought he came back to Sunnydale for.

He knew better now. He came back to Sunnydale for her. Because he wanted her.

It all seemed to have started last night, too. What with them having shagged and all. Everything was becoming clear. The reason why Drusilla left him and why he had never been able to defeat the Slayer was because he never wanted the Slayer to die. Maybe a little, but not because he hated her. It was the order of things: vampire versus slayer. Survival of the fittest.

Though it absolutely made no sense whatsoever he felt that attraction, that connection. He'd never lusted over anyone as much as he was lusting over the Slayer.

Last night, the sexual tension between them was so thick that they could have cut through it with a knife. There might have also been a spark – the emotional kind – and they were hiding it with the banter. Why else was he down in the sewers, headed to Buffy's dorm room, if he didn't feel anything for her?

As Spike stood outside the door of Buffy's dorm room, Spike could already hear her moans and smell her arousal. He leaned against the door and closed his eyes. He listened intently to what she was doing, running his hand over the wooden door, stroking it as he imagined it was her soft skin.

When he heard giggling and murmurs, he forced his eyes open and looked over his shoulder. Students were staring at him, hands over their mouths as they laughed.

He remained in his position until the passersby were gone and opened the door slowly. His eyes immediately fixed on her on the bed, where she lay with her eyes tightly closed, back arched, and tongue peeking out between her lips as she continued her rub her clit. She was too lost in her fantasy to hear the door click closed.

Tongue tucked behind his front teeth, Spike drew near her, taking one step at a time. Each step felt as if it took forever; he couldn't wait to feel her again.

He watched her run her hands over her breasts, slightly pinching her nipples while continuing to massage her clit with her fingers.

When he was at the foot of her bed, he stopped and smirked. Buffy's breathing hitched and she moaned louder. She was close. Without wasting any more time, he crawled over her.

Buffy dazedly opened her eyes, and startled, stopped what she was doing. “Spike,” she whispered huskily as he replaced her hand with his own.

“I'm here, Slayer.” He placed a soft kiss on her lips. “I'm here.”

**********

Spike heard the door swing open as Willow entered the dark room warily. But he continued to thrust into Buffy, hard. He wouldn't care if Willow turned the light on and saw them. The audio-visual presentation would save him and the Slayer the energy of explaining to her what was going on between the two of them.

The soft clinking of the keys as Willow set them down on the desk by the door joined the muffled grunts and gasps in the room. “Buffy? Are you in here?” An uh-huh was all she got as a reply, but she sighed in relief. She closed the door and walked farther into the room. “Why is it so dark in here?” she asked, more to herself. “I didn't see you in class today. Where were you?”

Spike nibbled on the sensitive part of her neck, and Buffy had to stifle a moan. “Here,” she said breathlessly.

“All day?” Willow turned her lamp on and immediately saw Spike nuzzled up Buffy's neck. Her jaw dropped and her heart skipped a beat.

Spike lifted his head to meet Willow's shock-stricken gaze. “Red,” he said and smirked at her. “Want to join in?”

Willow gasped and hit Spike with her bag. “Get,” hit, “off,” thump, “her!” She repeatedly struck him with the bag, failing to notice that he was completely naked. All she could focus on was the idea that Spike had finally killed Buffy.

“Hey!” Spike shielded himself from Willow's bag-turned-weapon with his arm. “Stop that!”

“Willow!” Buffy pushed Spike off her with Willow still whacking away, and covered herself with a blanket. “Will, I'm okay,” she said, tearing Willow's bag from her hands. Spike got up from the bed, rubbing his arm and glowering at Willow.

“Y-you're not... He w-wasn't... Oh.” Willow's gaze drifted down to Spike's naked body. “Oh!” When she realized what she had walked in on, her eyes widened. “Oh my God, my eyes!” She covered her eyes for effect, peeking through her fingers to see Spike's package. After getting a good hard look at Spike's penis, she turned to Buffy, trying hard not to smile widely. “Have you completely lost your mind? This is Spike, Buffy. Spike! A vampire! An evil blood sucking––”

“I'm right here,” Spike said with a grunt.

“He fell on top of me!” Buffy pouted when Willow gave her a doubtful glare. “Naked,” she said almost inaudibly, embarrassed by her lame excuse, and frowned.

“You must be under some kind of spell. That's the only logical explanation to this,” Willow said. “To you...” Unable to say the words aloud, she waved her hand at Buffy's bed. “Doing that.”

“I most certainly am not under a bloody spell!” Spike said while pulling his pants on.

“Yeah.” Buffy nodded indignantly. There were tons of reasons why she would want Spike, and her being under a spell would be last on that list. “You should see him naked!” she said, smiling from ear to ear. Now that reason would be number one on the list of reasons to have ridiculously amazing sex with Spike. And that smirk of his? It should be illegal.

“I have,” Willow muttered, admiring the arousing sight of Spike's chiseled abs and the prominent hipbone jutting out above the waistband of his jeans. When Spike caught her ogling him, he snickered and snapped her out of her reverie.

Willow shook her head, shaking the thoughts of Spike away with it. “Get dressed,” she said firmly, averting her eyes from anywhere near the blond vampire. “We're going to Giles'. I'll call Xander to tell him to meet us there.” She quickly picked up the phone and dialed.

**********

Xander sat on Giles' couch, eyes wide and hands clasped in anticipation. Giles paced back and forth, holding a glass of scotch in his hands. Both men steeled themselves for what Willow had warned them about.

When the three arrived, Giles quickly opened the door, instantly turning his back on the three.

“Spike needs an invite,” Buffy said as she and Willow came in.

Giles leaned on his table, unable to look at Buffy or Spike. “I'd be perfectly fine with him waiting outside.”

“Giles!” Buffy said.

With a look of contempt, Giles said, “All right. Come in, Spike.”

The minute Xander saw Spike, he laughed. Not knowing what he found utterly hilarious, everyone looked at him questioningly.

Spike shot Xander a glare. “What?”

Xander gasped for breath, holding his stomach. “You have an 'L' on your forehead,” he managed to blurt out, before starting to laugh hysterically again.

After avoiding looking at Spike during their whole walk to Giles', Willow faced Spike and saw the huge tattoo-like old-texty letter L on his forehead. “Oh, yeah,” Willow said, grinning. “Didn't notice that before, what with you being all...” She trailed off when she remembered that her attention had been on other parts of Spike’s body. “Never mind.”

“Now, you're officially a loser.” Xander sneered smugly.

Spike huffed, touching his forehead and wanting to be able to see his reflection in a mirror after more than one hundred-twenty years of getting by without it. “This is just... dandy,” he mumbled in distaste.

“I still think you're yummy,” Buffy said, twirling her finger on Spike's chest.

“Oh, you do, do you?” A tongue and teeth smirk tugged at Spike's lips. He snaked her arms around her waist, pulling her tight against his rock hard erection. The pressure of her firm stomach against his cock gave some relief to his hard-on, but he craved more. He cursed the Scoobies under his breath for dragging them here. Willow hadn’t left them alone since she interrupted them, and now all he wanted was to get Buffy alone so they could pick up where they’d left off.

The second Buffy and Spike's lips touched, Giles took his glasses off. “Good grief.” He polished his glasses with his tan shirt, and he was going to polish it until the lenses shone, or until Spike and Buffy stopped making out, whichever came first.

“Man, you really weren't joking, were you, Will?” Xander stared, lips curled in disgust.

Willow pointed at the two. “See what I've had to put up with? They won't stop!” She moved to the couch and slumped on it with a humph. Xander sat beside her, having had enough of the yuck-fest.

Giles lurched towards Buffy and Spike. “Stop that, you two!” he scolded them and pulled them apart. Buffy tried to appear chastised, all the while stealing lustful glances at the blond vampire. “Let me see that mark.”

While Giles inspected the L on Spike's forehead, Spike's eyes couldn't help but wander over Buffy's body. The sight of her, whether she was naked or not, made him aroused. His hands slowly traveled to the growing bulge in his pants.

A slap jarred Spike out of his lusty thoughts. “For God's sake, man, control yourself,” Giles said, pointing a finger at him.

Spike quickly jerked his hand from his crotch. “I wasn't doing anything!”

Glowering at Spike, Giles went back to studying the mark. After a few more moments of what Spike deemed to be an uncomfortable invasion of personal space, Giles spoke up. “I'm certain I've seen this before.” Facing Buffy and pointing a finger up in the air, he said, “You must have one too.”

“I don't know.” Buffy shrugged. She hated that they were insisting that this was some kind of demon voodoo, when she knew in her heart that it wasn't.

Rolling his eyes at Buffy's dismissal, Giles walked towards his bookshelf and scanned through the books until he found what he was searching for. He pulled it out, flipped it open and skimmed over it.

The sounds of pages turning, lips smacking, and Xander's occasional murmurs about nightmares filled the otherwise quiet room.

A triumphant “Aha!” made everyone, with the exception of Spike and Buffy who were too busy with the kissing, turn to look at Giles.

“Here it is.” Giles brought the book to the coffee table and laid it out for Xander and Willow to see. He pointed at one of the images; it was an illustration of a small, insect-like creature that was theoretically the demon behind all this. “I knew it seemed familiar. It is the mark of Luxuria.”

“Luxuria?” Willow's eyebrow rose in interest.

“Yes.” Giles nodded. “The lust demon.”

Xander leaned back on the couch, not daring to turn his head in the direction of where Spike and Buffy were. “Well, that explains all the grossness.”

The smile on Giles' face slowly morphed into a frown when he came across a passage he didn't particularly like.

Willow sat forward, concerned. “Something wrong?”

Giles chortled nervously and adjusted his glasses. “No, no. Everything is all right.” He wished he were a better liar than he was. “There's no need to worry. The effect of Luxuria's bite lasts for a short, specific period of time.”

“So it will just... wear off?” Xander asked eagerly.

Giles nodded. “Yes. We shall just have to keep an eye on them and keep them in separate rooms for the time being.” The group glanced over their shoulders to the two. “If we can pry them apart, that is.” He grimaced at the two as they kissed and groped, all but undressing each other.

The ticking was going to drive her insane. Buffy tore her eyes away from the ceiling and glanced at the old wooden clock piece responsible for the annoying sound that echoed in the room. It was a little past nine.

It had not been longer than an hour since Willow and Giles locked her up in the guest bedroom, but it already felt like an eternity. With each passing second, her sexual longing for Spike grew and she didn't know if she could take it much longer.

Groaning, she got up from the bed. She needed to see him. She needed to feel him. She needed that gratifying pain she would feel with Spike's cock sheathed deep within her core. She needed it. Badly. And nothing, not even her best friend guarding the door to Giles' guest room or the confines of these four walls, was going to stop her.

“This is silly,” she’d said to Willow as she and Xander shoved her into the room. She had cursed herself for being too tired and sore from all the sex-having with Spike to fight back.

“This is for your own good,” Willow had told her, waggling a finger at her like she were some insolent child.

Like hell it was for her own good. She was lusty-Buffy and she needed some Spike-penis relief, dammit!

And when she tried to convince Xander to let her go by jutting her bottom lip out as far as possible, and looking at him with her puppy dog eyes all while batting her eyelashes, he told her, “Trust me, Buffy. You'll thank us later.”

Oh, she thought not.

Fortunately, her friends didn't think things through and had forgotten about the window in the room. She'd went along with what they wanted, thinking they'd realize it wasn't a spell soon enough. But she was dying here! She was tired of playing Miss Nice Gal, waiting for her friends to see reason. She'd wasted so much possible Spike-having time as it was. She had no other choice but to sneak out through the window.

She hurriedly moved towards it. “Hah!” She pushed the window open as if she were a prisoner who hadn't seen the outside world for years. She stealthily climbed out of the window and ran around to the front of the apartment.

Carefully turning the knob so that it didn't make much noise, she opened the front door. The television set in the living area was on, murmuring softly. Giles had fallen asleep on watch with a paperback book resting on his chest. Spike was snoring on the couch, probably having been bored to sleep by Giles.

Buffy tiptoed to the back of the couch and poked Spike's thigh until he roused.

“What?” Spike murmured groggily, slapping her hand away, and she had to cover his mouth, glancing down the hall to see if Willow had heard them. When Spike opened his eyes and saw it was Buffy, he abruptly stood up. He gave her a questioning gaze, and she answered with a seductive smile.

Smirking, Spike moved towards Buffy. She took him by the hand and led him out into the courtyard.

The two immediately grabbed each other, lips crashing together in a heated kiss, like two lovers who had been separated for months.

“I missed you so bloody much,” Spike said in between kisses, hands roaming her body.

“Me too,” Buffy said when she pulled away for a breath. Without wasting any more time, she jumped on Spike. She wrapped her legs around his waist, kissing him with a fervor she'd never felt before.

Spike staggered backwards and slammed against the side of the courtyard stairs. He spun them around, pinning Buffy between the cold, hard concrete and his tight body. One hand sought out every inch of flesh it could reach beneath her top, while the other settled on her ass, holding her to him.

Before he could lift her blouse off, both of them froze when magical energy ripped out of their bodies. Buffy stopped grinding against Spike and, eyebrows furrowed, asked him, “Did you feel that?”

“Yeah, I did,” Spike said, his face the same mask of bafflement as Buffy.

Loosening her grip around his neck and moving her hands to his chest, she pulled away slightly. “The mark on your forehead's gone.”

Spike touched his forehead. “Does this mean...”

Buffy gulped, fully aware of the position she was in and what they were about to do. “I-I think so.”

“Oh.” Disappointment was clear in Spike's voice. “Right.” He hesitantly removed the hand cupping Buffy's butt although he didn't want to. God, he didn't. Because contrary to what he had imagined a million times over, Buffy's butt wasn't too skinny or bony. It was firm, perfectly muscled. He'd never been an ass man, but Buffy's ass was too damn delectable. “I suppose you should get off me now, shouldn't you?”

“Yes,” Buffy said, quite reluctant and unsure. “That would be the logical thing to do.” Logic was the last thing on her mind, but she let him lower her legs anyway. It didn't matter what she wanted. It had never mattered.

Spike adjusted his crotch as Buffy righted her top, covering the patch of sun-kissed skin he'd never be able to touch again. He gazed at her and realized it was all he could ever do from now on. “And I should probably be off, then.” By the tone of his voice, it was clearly more of a question.

Buffy fixed her gaze to the ground. Every inch of her said no, but she said, “Yeah. You probably should,” as if it were a reflex, as if she were wired to always do what other people would want her to.

Spike made no move to leave for a few more moments, waiting for Buffy to take back what she'd said and beg him to stay. When a good minute had passed, Spike grimaced. He didn't need any more humiliation and rejection on top of Drusilla leaving him for a Chaos demon. With a frustrated sigh, Spike fled the apartment complex without saying a single word.

She lifted her eyes when she heard him sigh, just in time to see him disappear from view. She didn't want to admit to herself that it hurt her to see him leave. She wished it didn't, because it was wrong on so many levels. Inhaling deeply, she went back inside the apartment.

Giles woke up with a start at the sound of the door closing and saw Buffy emerge from the front door. “Buffy, how did you––”

“That's not important,” Buffy said, waving a hand in dismissal. “I'm sane Buffy again.” She sighed. “You don't have to worry about me having sexcapades with Spike any more.”

Giles winced at the word sexcapades and, adjusting his glasses and setting the book down on the coffee table, stood up. “I beg your pardon?”

“It's over,” Buffy said, plopping down on the couch with a huff. “Spike's gone.”

“He is, is he?”

“Hopefully, for good.” Buffy tried to sound indifferent, but the frown on her face betrayed her words. “Why does he come back here anyway when we clearly don't want him here and he clearly doesn't want to be here?” She paused, staring blankly at the coffee table, and then chuckled disdainfully. “He's an idiot, that's why.”

Seeing the obvious confusion in Buffy's expression, Giles pondered if he should tell her the one important detail he intentionally left out. Sitting beside her, he took a deep breath. It was best that he didn't say anything that would complicate things more. He put his hand over hers and asked, “Are you okay?”

“What?” Buffy said, forcing her voice to be incredulous. “Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?”

Giles moved his hand to his lap. “No, no reason at all.”

“I'm okay. In fact, I'm better than okay.” She was so unconvincing that she couldn't even convince herself. But she was okay. There was no reason for her not to be okay. Right?

**********

Four days had passed since Spike left town. Everything had gone back to normal, as normal as the life of the chosen one could be. She tried not to think about Spike or the one day they'd shared, but it was harder than she thought it would be.

It was one day she would never forget.

He would cross her mind occasionally, and she would wonder where he was or if he had gotten back together with Harmony or Drusilla. She did her best to hide how she felt, although she wasn't exactly doing a great job.

They'd catch her staring off into nothing, day dreaming, not listening to anything they said but they didn't care.

“I better go,” Buffy said as she stood up. The news Giles had told her about a demon killing innocent people didn't distract her enough, and it certainly didn't help. But it was good that she had a job to do to take her mind off Spike. “I'll find this thing before it does any more damage than it already has.” Violence. Violence helped.

Giles frowned. Buffy was troubled and he felt guilty for withholding information he knew would help her. He sighed, knowing he had to tell her what he knew. “Buffy, can I talk to you for just a moment?” he asked as she was halfway out the door.

Buffy turned around and walked back into the living area. “Sure. What's up?”

“Please, have a seat.” Giles gestured at the couch.

“I need to sit down for this?” she asked with an anxious chuckle as she sat down at the couch. Giles forced a smile. She frowned; that had never been a good sign. “Giles, you're making me nervous.”

“There's something I need to tell you.”

“What about?” she asked warily.

“There's one very minor,” he adjusted his glasses, “detail I failed to mention to you about Luxuria.”

Buffy quirked a brow and leaned forward in interest. “Okay,” she said slowly.

“It's, uh... Luxuria's victims aren't random,” Giles said, and Buffy sat up. “It has been said that it chooses specific targets. It chooses two people. A pair.”

“Makes sense since it bit Spike and I at about the same time.”

“Yes, yes... But, uhm... The book states that Luxuria chooses those who already have an attraction, feelings for the other.”

Buffy squinted at him thoughtfully, mouth slightly parted, as she processed the new information. “Well... Duh,” she said and scoffed after a few seconds of silence. “Of course I have feelings for him. I-I mean, I hate him. Those are feelings, right? Not feelings like how you're making it sound to be, but still. Feelings. Very strong feelings. Very strong hateful feelings.”

“Buffy, I wouldn't think any less of you if it were true, and it certainly won't make you any less of the Slayer you are. Spike is a rather handsome... uhm... creature.”

“Giles!” Buffy shifted in her seat.

“And though he may be evil, i-it doesn't mean you can't be attracted to him.”

“But I'm not,” she said, almost whining. Giles gave her a doubtful look and her shoulders slumped. “Okay, I am. But it's only physical and I'll get over it.”

Giles nodded and when she looked away, he grimaced. He hoped she was right.

“So, can I go kill some demons now?”

“Yes.” Giles forced a smile.

“Great,” Buffy said and stood up, leaving Giles' apartment.

She went on to patrol and find the demon Giles had told her about. She marched around the cemetery, eager for some violence. Hearing footsteps behind her, she whirled around with her double bladed battle-ax raised. She jumped back in surprise and gasped when she saw who it was. “Spike! W-what are you still doing here?”

He stepped forward with his trademark smirk. “Well, I... I... Forgot something.”

Buffy rolled her eyes, ignoring the thumping of her heart. “I don't have time for this, Spike,” she said, and walked away. “If you're not going to do anything evil, just leave me alone.” Though she was purposely swaying her hips flirtatiously, she was not playing hard to get. She was... walking away because she hated him.

She glanced behind her, hoping that he would follow.

He did. “Hunting for some big bad?” he asked, gesturing at the battle-ax in her hand.

She cast a sideways glance at him when he caught up. “Yes.”

“I'll help you,” he said with a shrug.

Buffy stopped and folded her arms over her chest. “And why would you want to do that?”

“Come on, Slayer. What have you got to lose?”

Buffy forced herself not to swoon when he raised that sexy scarred eyebrow of his. She pretended to think about it – as if she actually had to think about being around Spike – while tapping her foot and eyeing him.

“Fine,” she said, dropping her arms at her sides. “Just stay out of my way.” She pointed the ax at him, and it was his turn to roll his blue eyes at her.

They strolled around the cemetery mostly in silence except every few seconds when Spike would give a heavy sigh. Buffy clenched her fists to try and keep her cool. If he was bored, why didn't he just go away?

At his tenth sigh, Buffy faced him, strangling an imaginary neck in her hand. “If you sigh one more time, I swear to God––”

“Look. Something's there.” He pointed at the barely lit part of the cemetery.

“Oh, thank God!” She rushed to the other side of the cemetery with Spike following closely behind her. Once they were close enough, they saw a big flesh-colored blob of a creature sucking a young man's insides out with one of its long tentacles.

“Hey you!” she shouted at the demon. It detached its long limb-slash-mouth from the man's body to face Buffy. She grimaced when she saw goo dripping from the teeth in its tentacles. They charged at each other.

The demon lashed a tentacle at her and she blocked it with the ax, chopping a part of it off. Buffy frowned when it grew back and took the ax from her hand. “Uh-oh,” she said as the demon coiled its tentacle around her waist. She struggled to release herself from its grip, punching and hitting the limb. The demon flung her across the cemetery and she hit a tombstone with a thump.

“Buffy!” Spike shouted and rushed towards her. One of the demon's tentacles caught him and threw him to the ground on his back.

Spike calling her by her name for what she recalled as the first time forced her out of her daze. Shaking her head and rubbing at the back of her neck to soothe it, she stood up.

Her eyes widened when she saw that Spike was about to be shish kebobed by the tip of the creature's spear-like limb. “Spike, look out!” She sprinted for him, tackled him and they fell to the ground with a dull thud. She quickly reached over to the ax only a few inches above Spike's head and hacked a tentacle off before hurling the ax at the demon's head. She breathed a sigh of relief as she watched the demon wail in pain and drop dead.

Spike propped himself up on his elbows. Buffy glanced down at him and their eyes met. They stared at each other for what seemed like forever. Buffy was fully aware that she was still straddling him, but she was too lost in his eyes to care.

Moments later, Spike broke the silence. “Uhm... Thanks,” he said and sat up.

Her cheeks turned crimson. “Yeah. Yeah... No problem,” she said and started to stand up. Spike's firm hand on her wrist pulled her back down on him, and she looked at him with expectancy. He waited for her to move away, to punch him on the nose, to slap him.

She didn't.

He clasped his hand behind her neck and pulled her to him, kissing her. She returned his hungry kiss with as much passion and desire.

When she finally gathered the strength to pull away, she said, “W-wait.” She raised a hand between them. “What does this mean?”

“I don't know.” He sighed. “But I do know that I want you,” he said, cupping her cheek in his hand. “I want you, Buffy. And I know you want me too. I can feel it.”

She swallowed, hard. “Okay.” She placed her hand over his, still looking into his blue eyes. “Okay,” she said and kissed the palm of his hand.

THE END