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Title: Meant To Be
Author: Natalia Vronsky
Part: 1/18
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Set at the beginning of "Lie to Me". Buffy sees Angel with Drusilla, and so does Spike. What should have been a night of comfort serves to release desires and sets Spike and Buffy on the road to true love. S/B A/D W/O X/C G/J
Author Notes: I've always thought Angels' curse never made any sense... the whole losing it if he got one moments pure happiness bit, ya know? What was the point of doing the curse in the first place if he could lose it? That's not exactly revenge now is it? It's more like a temporary slap on the wrist for being a bad dog. So... in my world, he can't lose it by getting a happy, 'kay?
Thanks: To Daisy for being a super beta by taking the 81 pages(parts 1 - 16) that I had finished and offering to beta 'em so my revisions would be easier to do. Also, uber-thanks to everyone who has read and/or reviewed or will read this. Thank you so much. :)
Disclaimer: It all belongs to the evil Joss Whedon. The idea belongs to me, though I make nothing off of it.
Archive: "Want. Take. Have." Just lemme know, 'kay? An' not at some "worst fan-fiction ever" page, 'kay?"
Feedback: pretty please with whipped cream covered Spike on top... er... but not... 'cause he's mine.

Angel and the brunette beauty were leaning closer to each other. It took everything in Buffy's power to not cry out as their lips met in a gentle kiss.

A fire seemed to ignite as they kissed. Like a fire long ago put out, but, the ashes were still smoldering , just waiting for that one, tiny spark.

"Bloody Hell." She heard muttered. She turned to see the latest pain in her ass, Spike, standing a bit away from her, watching the scene below as well. He didn't seem to notice that she was there.

"Spike?" She whispered, not wanting to get the attention of the two pawing at each other.

He whipped around to face her. Hurt and anger were written on his face. "Slayer." He growled fiercely. His eyes drifted over her body to make sure she wasn't armed.

She held up her empty hands. "Truce, for now." She said. Her eyes fell back on Angel and the beautiful mystery girl. "Do you know her?"

"She's my sire." He said absentmindedly.

"I thought Angel was your sire?"

"He sired her. Drusilla." He murmured the name like a prayer. "She sired me... but she was only a little more 'n a fledgling herself. He stepped in to teach and guide me. Once he got his soul, it was just me and Dru. It was perfect. Then she got attacked by a blasted mob in Prague. Came here 'cause I figured there was no better place for her to heal than at the Hellmouth. I should of left soon as I heard the Poofter was here. I knew she always belonged to him. I was just sec..." He stopped when he realized just who it was he was spilling his guts to. He steeled himself for her laughter or insults.

"I'm sorry." Was all she said. The only emotion on her face was a deep sadness. She walked away from the edge of the roof and Spike followed suit. Angel had lowered Drusilla into the sandbox and was pounding into her.

"Over a hundred years of love and devotion all meant sod to her." A shaky hand pulled a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his duster. He lit one quickly, taking a deep drag.

"I'm sure it did. Mean something, I mean." Buffy tried to be reassuring.

"Oh, what the Hell do you know about it? I bet you'd prance about and whore after him just like her if he bat those soulful eyes of his at you." He laughed bitterly.

"Not anymore." She started walking to the ladder so she could climb down. Besides, Spike couldn't see her cry if she had her back to him. She turned to face him after a second. "Spike? Wanna go fight?"

He stared at her for a moment before shrugging, "Sure, Goldielocks." He followed her down below without a spare glance at the two people who'd made him what he was.

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

The two blondes sat down on a crate breathlessly... well... the vampire would of been breathless if he'd needed to breathe. They'd fought for well over three hours.

To anyone passing by at the ungodly and dangerous time of night, their fight would have looked like a well choreographed dance.

They were leaning against each others back heavily. "That was fun." Buffy said after a while.

"That it was." Spike smiled inwardly as Buffy snuggled deeper into his coat. He'd given it to her mid-fight when she said she wanted to see how it looked on her. "Slayer?"

"Yeah?"

"Wanna snog?" Spike wasn't sure what had spurred that question, but it did seem like a marvelous idea. He was evil, not blind. The Slayer was a very attractive girl.

"What's that?" Buffy tilted her head to look at him.

"This." He pulled her head to his, smashing his lips against hers.

Buffy was beyond shocked by his actions. It took her a moment to recover and respond. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, returning his fervent kiss.

Spike yanked her onto his lap so that she straddled him. "Christ, you're so warm." He muttered against her lips. He bravely ventured downwards, kissing her chin and licking along her jaw-line. His tongue flicked gently over the scar left by the Master. He felt her shiver above him before he continued downwards. One hand yanked on her shirt and bra until the material slid down her stomach, exposing her soft, rounded breasts.

"Spike..." She whimpered, holding his head to her with her hands. She wiggled her hips lightly, feeling a very hard something between their bodies; even through all the layers they both wore.

"Sweet Slayer." He groaned, one arm was around her waist. His other hand had disappeared between their bodies as he continued to lavish her breasts attentive licks and nips.

She kicked her shoes off and lifted her rear from his lap when he tugged at the zipper of her pants. He pulled them, along with her panties, off and tossed them aside. His coat hid her almost completely nude body from view. She was safe should anyone venture down the alleyway.

His fingers stroked her folds lightly before lowering his own zipper. Despite Buffy's wonder at what the male anatomy looked like, she didn't get a chance to really see. Spike lifted her hips abruptly, letting her slide down onto him.

Buffy cringed in pain and yelped escaped her as she he broke through and filled her.

Spike's eyes widened when he'd realized that she'd been a virgin. "You were... why didn't you tell me?" Tears streaked her face and she let out a pitiful hiccup. "I'm so sorry, Baby." He kissed her cheek, trying to soothe her.

Spike was dying. She was so hot and tight... and he could most definitely smell blood. Sweet, intoxicating Slayer's blood. He would go crazy if he didn't get to pound senselessly into her soon.

"It only hurts a little." She whispered, blinking back tears. Most of the pain had subsided, leaving a dull throbbing... and a sense of fullness. She could feel him inside her, hard and pulsing. That alone was mind-blowing.

It did hurt, though. The pain was so different than any other pain she'd ever felt. And she'd been dealt a lot of physical pain in her life. So, she couldn't help crying just a bit or digging her nails into his shoulders as she adjusted to the feeling of him stretching her most sensitive area.

"If I'd of known..." He pulled her head to rest at the curve where his shoulder and neck met, gently stroking her soft hair.

"I wanted to." She moved her hands from his shoulders and kissed the wounds there. Her hands moved down his chest and under the tight black tee-shirt, scraping them down his pecks and abs.

"I would of been more gentle, at least." He was shaking. He needed to move so badly, he felt as though he'd self combust if he didn't. He'd never had a virgin before. Aside from Dru, the other women he'd had sex with had been far from virginal.

There was nothing like the tiny Slayer in his arms. Soft. Tight. Hot. And so very wet.

Dozens of lyrical and descriptive words flew through his mind. He knew he'd have a lot of poems to write about her once he returned back home. All the forming limericks, sonnets and badly rhyming words of her soon fled, along with every other thought in his head as she squirmed against him.

Buffy blinked back tears as Spike's gaze focused on her. Before his eyes had been glazed over and he seemed to be staring straight through her. His intense blue orbs burned into her... causing her to whimper with desire.

She was so embarrassed... she had no idea what they were supposed to do next. Or if that was all. She was about to work up the courage to ask him, when he stood, holding her to him with his hands on her rear. She looked back when she felt herself pressed against something. The wall.

Spike still held her tightly. "I know it hurts, Pet. But it won't for much longer." He murmured. Whether she knew it or not, she was still crying and it made him ache. He should of been glad he was taking a Slayer the way he was, and making her cry to boot... but he wasn't. "Sweet Slayer, I promise this'll feel so good."

"Buffy..." She gasped as he pulled out of her just the teeniest bit. "Please don't call me 'Slayer'."

"Buffy... Buffy... Buffy..." He moaned, as he pushed back into her. She let out a strangled cry, arching her lower body towards his, her head rolling against the wall.

After a few thrusts, Buffy caught on to the rhythm he'd set, and moved her body in time with his. It was just like their fight earlier... seemingly choreographed. Synchronized groans, moans and thrusts.

She buried her face in Spike's shoulder as he thrust faster and a little rougher. She was surprised her body was keeping up, especially while the wheels in her mind were churning a mile a minute, trying to categorize the thousands of different sensations she was feeling. The most dominant sensation was the humming she felt go through her whole body each time Spike pulled out and pushed back into her.

She felt herself lose control of her body when Spike reached down between them and rubbed her roughly right above where they joined. Her entire being shook with pleasure. "Oh... god... Spike..." She cried against the soft skin of his neck.

"That's it, Buffy... cum for me..." He growled seductively. He could tell she was close... by the heavy scent of her juices and the way her inner muscles were fluttering around him. He was surprised he hadn't cum the second he sheathed himself into her. "Just let go, Sweetheart."

He nipped at her neck with his human teeth and continued to rub her clit. When he felt her peak, he thrust once more, cumming hard. In the midst of groaning her name, he looked at her, her head was tossed back... pain-filled ecstasy on her face as she cried out his name. She looked so beautiful.

All his former poetic thoughts returned once he'd completely spent himself inside her. Part of him wanted to strangle her for making him want to be the poet he'd lead to suicide. The other part wanted to beat that part up and write the damn poems.

When Buffy came down from her euphoria she looked at everywhere but at Spike. She wasn't sure what was going to happen next and it terrified her. She didn't like the fact that she felt like she would die if he walked away from her after this.

She let her feet slide down from his waist to the ground, involuntarily whimpering when she felt him pull out from her.

Spike zipped up his jeans as he watched her shakily gather her clothes. "Still hurt, Pet?"

She looked up at him with her huge hazel eyes. Her face was red with embarrassment. "Huh?"

"Does it still hurt? You know..." He looked down her body. She yanked his coat shut, blocking his view.

"Uh... only a little." She looked at the clothes in her hands, trying to sort out what was what with little success. She wasn't even really looking at them.

He leaned towards her and took them from her. He set them on the crate they'd began on. "Let the Big Bad kiss it and make it all better." He sank down onto his knees. Buffy's eyes rolled back into her head as his face disappear between her tanned thighs.

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

Buffy giggled as Spike finally set her on her feet. He'd carried her over his shoulder all the way to her house. "I don't even wanna know how you know where I live." She shuddered as she unlocked the door.

Spike shrugged off her comment. "You sure your mum isn't home? Don't fancy being smacked with another ax." He rubbed his head where he'd been hit by Buffy's mother when they'd first fought.

"Positive. She's in Chicago on a buying trip and she won't be back until the day after tomorrow." Buffy walked into the house, heading for the steps.

"Uh... Luv?"

Buffy turned back to see Spike standing at the threshold, hand pressed against the invisible barrier. She walked over and pressed her hand against his. "Silly me. Come in." Their fingers laced as Spike walked in. Buffy shut and locked the door before pulling him up to her bedroom.

Spike looked around the deceptively innocent looking room. He knew she must have tons of weapons stored all over. On her dresser were five rather large, wooden crosses. "Don't suppose you'd like to put your Slayer toys away, would you?" He sat down on her bed.

"Oops. Sorry." She smiled sheepishly before tossing the crosses in a drawer. She then leaned over him and pulled out a stake and cross from underneath her pillow. She tossed those in the drawer as well. "Better?"

"Much." He yanked her down onto the bed with him. He caressed her cheek, brushing a few stands of hair from her face. "It should've been here."

"What should've been here?"

"My defiling of you."

She tugged the tight black tee-shirt he wore over his head. She placed her hands on his chest and looked up at him innocently, "Well, you could always defile me s'more, couldn't you?"

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

The sun had just set, leaving a faint, pinkish glow over the city. Spike was already putting his clothes on. Buffy knew in a few minutes, the best night and day of her life would soon be nothing more than a warming memory. They'd have to go back to what they were before once he was out that door, wouldn't they?

The question remained at the forefront of both their minds, though neither actually dared to ask the question aloud.

Out of the corner of his eye, Spike watched Buffy climb off her bed to put on a robe and slippers from her closet before sitting at the edge of the bed. Her tanned skin covered in bruises and bite marks. Spike knew he must be sporting similar ones, along with the scrape marks over his chest and back he'd gotten from her nails.

For a virgin, she'd sure been a spirited little thing... and a helluva quick learner.

Spike faced her once he finished dressing. She looked so small and sweet sitting there, wrapped in her fluffy blue robe and matching slippers. "Well, I... uh... best be goin'."

"Right." Was her response, her eyes focused on a small thread on the ground.

"Walk me out?" He offered his hand to her. His cold, black heart broke at the sight of her fighting back tears when she finally met his gaze.

He wanted to shake her and say, "Oh, come on now, Slayer. We were both lonely and down after seein' the people we loved together. This was all in fun, but it's over now." But, he couldn't bring himself to. It'd be hurtful not only to her, but to himself as well. It'd been more than comfort or fun. It had been passionate and sweet, and more perfect than anything Spike had experienced in his entire existence.

Once out on the porch, Buffy slid her hand from his. "Bye."

"Bye, Slayer." He flashed her a rakish grin before bounding down the steps and onto the walkway.

Buffy held onto the doorframe for support, fearing she'd run after him if she didn't. Her whole world had been flipped upside down the night before, and now it felt as if everything was falling down on top of her. She swiped at some unbidden tears before turning to go back inside.

Spike kept turning back to look at Buffy as he walked away from her. The further he got, the heavier his feet and heart felt. But, no matter how much he wanted to return to her, he didn't. He couldn't. Because that would show that he cared, and that... that would just complicate things. Her tears, however, did him in. He froze, watching as she wiped her tears away before he rushed back to her.

He shoved the door, which she was shutting, open and yanked her into his arms, kissing her passionately. Buffy dug her fingers into his platinum locks as she kissed him back.

Buffy marveled, as she had all night and day long, at how perfect and right it felt to be in Spike's arms.

He reluctantly broke the kiss so that she could catch her breath. He held her to him for a while before he pulled away from her and placed a chaste kiss to her lips. "See you 'round, Buffy."

"Bye, Spike." She called as he made his way back down the steps. She watched him until he rounded a corner and she could no longer see him.

Touching a finger to her bruised lips, she smiled. She could still taste him on her fingers and lips. With a small satisfied sigh she shut the door, leaning against it. She'd decided she'd go back to bed to catch up on the sleep she'd missed when she noticed Spike's black leather duster hanging on the coat rack.

Her smile widened. "Yeah, see you around, Spike."




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