"Stupid bint! I wasn't even feedin'! Not a bloody lick!" Spike raged as he paced in his crypt, taking hearty gulps from the bottle he was waving around. "Bitch can't even be bloody decent about it! Disgusting! She calls me disgusting!"

Here he had been trying to help her fight the Troll that Red and the ex-demon bint had summoned, and she didn't have the decency to be the least bit appreciative of his restraint around so much blood. Spike gulped down the rest of his scotch, then looked at it, as if surprised it was empty. "Bloody Bitch!" He yelled, throwing the bottle against the far wall with a smash. He stood for a moment, then grabbed his duster. "Time for a spot of violence."

---

Buffy sat up long after Giles had left and her mother had gone to bed. The fact that the Council didn't know anything about Glory had only added to her stress. Riley, Dawn, her mother. She had so many people to care for, so many to look after. God, the troll. If they weren't needing protection from outside forces, the Scoobies worked real hard to create new, and exciting threats all by themselves.

"And Spike! Thinks I should be impressed he wasn't feeding off of disaster victims!" she muttered, vocalizing her internal ranting. "That's so, so gross! And, he copped a feel when the troll threw me on him! Disgusting pig!" She shivered, remembering his hands. "Disgusting!" she said insistently. Suddenly, sore as she was, Buffy felt the need to go do some major slayage.

Grabbing her coat, she headed out for the nearest cemetery. As she walked, her mind turned yet again to Riley. Seeing him in that house, that strung out looking vamp-whore sucking on him. What the hell had her sire done, turned a crack whore? That was a whole new level of creepy. The wrecked, disgusting house, vamps and humans strewn about like the refuse that covered the house. She couldn't understand why anyone would want to be bitten by a vamp. She had been bitten, and she hadn't enjoyed it, certainly not from the Master. And Angel had been feral when he had bitten her, driven mad from poison. Neither one had been particularly pleasant.

Then there was Dracula. His bite had been different, very different. And Riley had said it was like he getting was revenge for letting Angel and Dracula bite her. "I was under his thrall!" Buffy told herself firmly. "I didn't enjoy that! There's no way I'd want to be bitten by a disgusting, eurotrash," her voice faltered a bit, "with a nice body, deep blue eyes..." Somehow, though, the blue eyes she imagined weren't Dracula's. She shook her head. "Ew! What am I saying?!"

Obviously, there had been no reason for Riley to go to that damn vamp. At least Dracula had hypnotized her. "Stupid Jerk," she muttered.

Buffy pushed onwards, itching for a fight when she heard voices from amongst the tombstones ahead. As she came closer, she recognized Spike's voice. She ducked behind a tree, not wanting to deal with that particular menace.

Buffy watched from her hiding spot as Spike thrashed the two vamps. She couldn't help but be a little impressed by Spike's fighting. It was brutal, but then Spike usually was. As he ducked and dodged in the moonlight, she edged closer to hear what he was saying.

---

"Bleedin'! Stupid! Bitch!" Spike growled, punctuating each word with a punch to the face of a very unfortunate fledgling. "All that blood, all around me!" He threw the fledge headfirst into a tombstone, where it slumped into unconsciousness. "I could have just taken it, it was just going to waste anyways!"

Whirling, he turned to face his other opponent. "I didn't even take a taste! Not one!" A vicious kick to the midsection doubled over the vamp, and Spike grabbed his collar. Pulling the vamp up face to face, he snarled "Tell me you could have done that! Tell me you could have resisted all the blood flowing freely!"

"No, man, no!" The fledge was waving his arms frantically. "I would have drank all the blood I could! Sounds like a feast, if you ask me!" Spike smiled wistfully, dropping the vamp.

"Oh, it should have been. It should have been a grand feast." He said, standing over the badly beaten vampire. "But I didn't. Not even a drop. Because of her." Finally the stake came down, and the vamp was dust.

"And it wasn't good enough for her." Spike finished quietly as he rose, dusting off his hands. Turning to look at the other, still unconscious vamp, he threw his stake, dusting it. "It's never going to be good enough for her."

Buffy stood frozen in place, Spike's last words stunning her. "It's never going to be good enough for her." What the hell did that mean?! She stood transfixed, watching him.

"Good enough for what?" She asked herself under her breath. Spike's head rose, and she ducked further into the shadows. He was looking right toward the tree she crouched behind. She panicked, praying that he wouldn't sense her presence. She had kept a decent distance from him, at least 100 feet. 'Please don't find me, please don't find me' she repeated in her head, over and over.

Gathering her courage, she peeked around the tree again just in time to see Spike walking away in the other direction. Letting out a sigh of relief, she started in the opposite direction. She finally found a few vamps to dust, but they were so pathetic that the quick fight had done nothing to calm her nerves. Reluctantly, she turned back toward home, trying not to think about what Spike had said, failing miserably.

---

"Here endeth the lesson." Spike began to turn away, then stopped. "I just wonder if you'll like it as much as she did," he said, giving her an appraising glance.

Buffy felt her skin flush red at that. She was still reeling from Spike's lessons about how he had killed two Slayers before her. His narrative brought forth memories from her Slayer self, deeply buried somewhere within her. She felt his hands on her neck, felt the adrenaline of the dance pumping through her veins. She had looked up into his dark gaze in the split second before he twisted her neck and killed the previous Slayer. Did she want death?

She looked at him, met that same dark gaze. "Get out of my sight, Spike." Her voice was rough with primal emotions, lust and fear, fighting and death. "Now." She had to make him leave, had to get far away from him. Something deep within her wanted to dance with him again, and she knew she wanted to feel his hands upon her again. How was he so right? How did he know what was within her? Never before had she felt this raw desire for death and bloodshed.

He leaned toward her. "Oh, did I scare ya?" He taunted her, his voice low and husky. "You're the Slayer, do something about it and hit me." She trembled under his intense gaze, her fist itching. "Come on, one good swing, you know you want to." His bit of cocky swagger made her flush hot, and she struck, her blow sending him flying onto his back. She was straddling him in a flash, stake poised over his heart.

"So is this it, then? Is this the death I need in my diet, Spike?" She breathed heavily, realizing that she was directly on top of his rather large, obvious erection.

He leered at her, rubbing himself against her hot center. "I think a little death is just what you need, luv."

Buffy gasped, unable to stop herself as he pushed against her, her eyes closing in pleasure. Lightning fast, Spike grabbed her wrists, and flipped them over. She struggled in that second against him, but he held her tight, pinning her arms above her head. He was hard between her thighs, and she moaned, feeling another wave of heat at their intimate contact.

"I think you want more lessons." In game face, he lowered his mouth to her ear, his cool lips barely brushing it. "Naughty Slayer," he whispered softly in her ear. "Do you want to learn about death, dear girl? Do you want to learn what I can teach you?"

She shivered at his dark words, and nodded, too hot to think.

He rubbed harder against her, tightening his grip on her wrists. "Say it, Slayer. Ask me to teach you."

"Teach me, Spike. Teach me about death," she asked softly, her voice dripping with desire.

He searched her eyes for a minute longer, then lowered his mouth to her neck. She felt his lips brush her neck, then his cool tongue caressed her pulse point. Then his fangs sliced into her, and all she felt was pleasure.

"Buffy! BUFFY!" She awoke to yelling and banging on her bedroom door. Groggily, the slayer rose and opened her door.

"What is it, Dawn?" She groaned, half awake. "What do you want?"

"Well, you were yelling," stammered Dawn. "I thought you were in pain or something. I guess you're okay. Did you have a bad dream?"

The dream came back to the elder Summers sister in an instant, and she had to duck her head to hide her blush. "Yeah, Dawnie, it was a bad dream. Sorry to scare you like that."

"Oh, okay then" Dawn said, and headed down the stairs.

Buffy closed the door, then leaned against it. "What the hell was that?" she asked herself. That certainly wasn't how that little encounter had gone between her and Spike. She had left him on his ass in the alley, told him he was beneath her. She certainly hadn't been against his hard, cool body, nor had she felt the exquisite pleasure of his fangs in her-- "Exquisite pleasure?" She asked out loud. "Where the hell did that come from?" And why, she thought to herself, did I like it so much?

"Oh god!" She said with an anguished groan. "No, no, no! This is so not happening!"

"Buffy, what's up with you?" Willow asked. All day her best friend had been completely zoned out. During classes, and even now, while they were supposed to be enjoying some nice, frothy mocha goodness, she seemed out of it. "Buffy?"

"Huh?" Buffy came out of her reverie, looking across the table at the redhead. No matter how she had tried to focus, her mind kept returning unbidden to Spike's words the night before, and then the utterly sinful dream.

"Buffy, all day you've been off in la-la land. Talk to me, lady. Tell what's on your mind." Willow gave the blonde an appraising glance. Her eyes narrowed. "Is it Riley?"

"Riley?" Buffy seemed almost confused by the question. "Oh, no, it's not Riley." She sighed, looking around. The Espresso Pump was decently crowded this afternoon. "Let's go for a walk, I don't want to talk about it here," she said, motioning to the other customers.

Willow raised her eyebrow, then agreed. Whatever was bugging Buffy was serious if the cozy coffee house made her uncomfortable.

---

Spike awoke late in the afternoon, his head still reeling from yet another erotic Buffy dream. Harmony slept like a rock as he got out of bed, nude. Looking down at his erection, he sighed. "You and I are going to have to have a bit of a wank, eh?" It bobbed at him a bit, and he went to the upper portion of his crypt, seeking privacy.

This dream had been different. Usually he dreamed about shagging the slayer silly, in every way he could. This time, it had been about the bite. Not to kill or drain her, just to taste. It was his hottest dream to date. He could still almost taste the spiciness, the delicious flavor of her blood as he had dreamed it. Settling himself into his "comfy chair," he remembered the night before, when he had felt her hot little body in his hands. Closing his eyes, he gripped his cock firmly, and began to stroke it, imagining that the slayer was in his lap, riding him.

---

"So, in your dream, he bit you? And you liked it?!?" Willow couldn't believe her ears.

"Yeah Will, I liked it." Buffy blushed. "Like really, really liked it," she said. Her hair fell over her face as she looked down, unwilling to meet the witch's eyes. "And he wasn't killing me. It was just..just.." She faltered, trying to think of the right word. "Just a taste," Dracula's words came back to her. "He was so hot, Will. Like, Brad Pitt on the scale of hotness." Idly she reached up, touching the spot where, in her dream, Spike's fangs had penetrated her. The girls sat on the park bench, sipping their coffees as they pondered the weirdness of Buffy's dream.

"I just don't get it, Buffy. It's Spike. Spike, kidnappy, fangy, annoying, evil Spike! It's just so weird!" Willow said, shaking her head. "Not that I mean you're weird, of course. I mean you're just fine, of course you are. And Spike's not a bad looking vampire, if you're, you know, into that sort of thing, which, of course you're not. I mean.." babbled the redhead.

"God, I know that it's weird. And I am so not looking for another vampire boyfriend. One was so enough for me. And it's Spike." Buffy sighed. "I saw him last night, you know. After Giles came by I went for a quick patrol, and found him fighting a few vamps. He didn't see me, and he was going on about what happened at the Bronze."

"What happened at the Bronze, Buffy? The fight with the Troll?" Willow was a bit confused.

"No, afterward. I found him putting a jacket under a wounded woman's head, propping her up. He expected me to be impressed that he wasn't feeding from her, or any of the other wounded people. Like that's anything to be proud of. Besides, ew! That's what he was talking about, as he destroyed those vamps. That he hadn't had any of the blood, because of me." Buffy fell silent as the implication of that sank in. "And he called me a bitch!" She added, trying to cover the pregnant pause.

Willow looked thoughtful. "Well, Buffy, not to play devil's advocate, or vamp's advocate in this case, but he was able to control himself among all that blood last night. Maybe he does deserve a bit of credit. I mean a little, tiny, minuscule amount credit."

"Maybe," came Buffy's response. She pondered that as she finished her mocha. Maybe he does deserve a bit of credit, she mused to herself. Just a little bit.

"Well, I'd better head over to the Magic Box. I promised Giles I'd come train. Want to come?" asked Buffy, changing the subject.

"Sure," agreed her best friend. Getting up, Willow decided to leave the whole Spike subject until later. "So, what did the Giles find out from the Council?"

---

Buffy sighed. All throughout training, and then at home for dinner with her family, she had been dreading this. The sun had set, and she finally had no more excuses. Her homework was done, she had helped Dawnie with hers. Buffy had even done all the dishes from dinner, insisting her mother relax. As long as she kept herself busy at home, she put off having to patrol that evening. She just didn't know what to do if she ran into Spike. Just thinking about the dream last night made her temperature rise. That, and his words. 'Never be good enough for her.' Buffy found herself wondering if it could be good enough; if he could be good enough. Maybe Willow was right, maybe he did deserve some credit for his restraint.

"Wait!" She said aloud. "What am I thinking?! This is Spike! No more thinking about Spike like that! I'm just on the rebound from Riley," she insisted, trying, unsuccessfully to convince herself. "It's nothing."

She pushed thoughts of Spike away, and turned her attention to tonight's patrol. I'll change my clothes, she thought, put on something more patrolly. She stopped halfway up the stairs. "Since when do I care about what I wear to patrol?" She asked herself under her breath. "I'll just put on something less flirty," she decided, looking down at her frilly blouse, coupled with a short skirt.

She quickly changed, putting on black leather pants and a tight knit red sweater. She surveyed herself in the mirror. "Yeah, that's covered enough. All covered up, nothing to see here, move along!" She declared, making a serious face in the mirror. Grabbing her black leather coat, she took off.

Buffy decided that the best way to avoid Spike would be to go downtown, rather than through the graveyards. Lost in her thoughts, she was startled when a scream rang out from an alley down the block.

Sure enough, it was a typical vamp, about to chomp on some poor co-ed. Still, it gave the Slayer a welcome distraction, and she jumped at the opportunity.

"Come on, baby," growled the vamp as he pushed the terrified girl up against the brick wall. "I'm going to give it to you good!"

"Ooh, baby!" Came the girly voice from behind him. Whirling, he saw one petite blonde behind him.

"Can I go first? I want you to give it to me good!" cooed Buffy, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Dropping his dinner the vamp leaped at Buffy, roaring "Slayer!"

Buffy easily dodged the clumsy attack. "See, I thought you were going to give it to me good!" Her foot shot out, and the vamp went sprawling on his face. She staked him through the back before he could even get up.

"Well, that was unsatisfying," she stated, turning to see the girl already running out of the alley. "You're welcome!" called Buffy irritably behind her, and then she continued her patrol, her thoughts automatically returning to her dream. Catching her reflecting in a shop window, she gasped as if seeing herself for the first time. Running her hands down the front of the black leather coat, noticing the way the sweater clung to her breasts just right, the Slayer realized what she had done. Black and Red. "Oh no!" she groaned, "I'm total Spike bait!"

---

Spike walked into Willie's just after sundown. He was itching for a brawl, and fledglings in the cemetery weren't going to do it tonight. Willie set down a rocks glass and the usual bottle in front of the vampire. "So, Spike," began Willie hesitantly. "D-do you think you can fight outside, tonight? I can't afford to replace any more chairs this month."

Spike scowled at Willie, then nodded. "Just cause you've got such a nice classy place here, Willie, I'll do it for you." Picking up the bottle and the glass the bartender had put next to it, he made his way over to a booth that had a few fledges in it. A bit of a growl, coupled with his reputation was enough to send them scampering away. Settling in to wait for his brawl, he poured himself a drink.

As he drank, his mind turned back to the Slayer. That damned bitch! He slammed the glass down on the table, and filled it up again. Dru had been right, she was all around him. In his thoughts, in his blood. He defied his very nature for her, and she called him disgusting for it. "Stupid Bitch!" He growled, attracting more than a few glances. With a withering gaze for the onlookers, he continued to slam back the shots. As he finished his first bottle of whiskey, a gang of four fyarl demons came in. Spike grinned. He had found his brawl.

Starting the fight proved to be easy. All it took was Spike deliberately bumping into one of the burly demons, coupled with a few imaginative insults, and they readily took his invitation to finish the fight outside. Now, bobbing and weaving as he traded blows and insults with the enraged demons, Spike grinned like a madman.

---

Lost in her thoughts, Buffy was surprised to find herself near Willie's bar. She was not, however, surprised by the fight outside. As she came closer, she counted four, no five combatants. Four big burly demons, and one.. "Spike!?" Buffy called out. She cringed as he took a heavy punch from a fyarl when he turned to look at her.

"Stupid. Annoying. Cocky. Vampire!" She practically growled the words as she crashed into the fight, throwing one fyarl to the ground, then slamming her foot into the side of another.

Spike jumped to his feet, and began trading blows with the two demons that weren't occupied already with Buffy. "What the bloody hell are you doing here, Slayer?" He asked as he struck, not missing a beat. The two fought back to back, each holding their own.

"Helping you for some strange reason," she answered. As if choreographed, they each landed a hard right cross to their opponents, knocking them out.

"Didn't exactly ask for your help, luv. In fact, I'd prefer you didn't." He tried to sound annoyed, but secretly, he was thrilled she was there. He loved fighting by her side. They danced so beautifully together, he thought to himself as they easily dispatched the remaining two demons.

Turning to look at her, noticing for the first time what she was wearing. Bloody hell! She looked amazing, the black leather hugging her curves just so. She was panting and flushed from the hard fight. He inhaled deeply, to enjoy the scent of her sweat, her adrenaline from the fight and her... arousal? Arousal!? Spike casually shifted his stance so his duster covered his growing hardness. "So, got anything silver, Slayer? Can't kill a fyarl with anything else."

Buffy shook her head. "So what was this all about, anyways? Why were they after you?" She tried to sound cool, disinterested. I hope I don't sound too worried, she thought to herself.

"Oh, this?" He motioned around at the fallen demons. "Just didn't like the way they looked at me, I guess," He said, lighting a smoke. At her blank expression, he smirked. "What can I say, pet. A man needs a bit of the rough and tumble now and again." He raised a scarred eyebrow at her.

"This was a bar fight?!" Buffy nearly shrieked. "I was helping you in a bar fight? Here I thought you were being ambushed, thought you needed help. But of course I should have realized you started the fight in the first place!"

Spike felt his anger boiling up again, remembering that she was the reason he had sought out a fight in the first place. "And why would you help me? Huh, Slayer? So you can keep your whipping boy safe?" Buffy opened her mouth to speak, but he kept going. "You here to tell me how disgusting I am again? Or are you just here to get in a few cheap shots? Well, not tonight. Sod off, Slayer!" With that he turned, his duster swirling behind him as he took off down the street, leaving a stunned Slayer in his wake.

"Blondie Bear!" Harmony squealed as a weary Spike entered the crypt. "You're home!" The ditzy vampiress flounced up to him, throwing her arms around his neck. Spike rolled his eyes and pushed her off.

"Not now, Harm." Spike said tiredly.

Noticing for the first time the bruises on Spike's face, Harmony bristled. "Oh, Spikey, what happened? Did the nasty Slayer beat you up again?" Not waiting for an answer, she went on. "That's it. I've had it with that bitch!" Harmony grabbed one of Spike's axes from the corner. "I'll show her not to lay a hand on my boyfriend!"

Roaring, Spike grabbed her arm. "Don't you dare! Don't you dare go near her, you daft bint! You bloody well better not lay a hand on her!" growled Spike, his eyes flashing amber.

"Spi-ike!" whined Harmony, squirming in his grasp.

Pulling her close to his face, Spike's low voice was filled with rage. "You need to leave, Harm. You need to leave town, now. If you don't, or if you try anything against the Slayer I will stake you myself." Flinging her to the ground, he turned and walked away. Grabbing a bottle of whiskey off a shelf, he drank deeply.

"But, but Spikey," whimpered Harmony, "you're my Blondie Bear, my sweet Boo Boo!"

"I am nothing of the bleedin' sort," replied Spike angrily. "I was only shaggin' you because there was fuck-all else to do! Now, I suggest you get your things and BUGGER OFF!"

Spike descended the ladder to the lower part of the crypt, bottle in hand, leaving a weeping Harmony to pack her bags.

---

"So then, I found him, in front of Willie's, fighting these four huge Fyarl Demons. I thought I'd be nice Buffy and you know, help out. And do you believe he had the nerve to get mad at me? I mean really! Stupid Vampire! Said I only helped him to, quote, 'keep my whipping boy safe!' What the hell does that mean?"

Willow and Tara shared a look as Buffy ranted. The witches had been listening patiently to their Slayer friend's tirade about the peroxided vampire as they walked from the UC Sunnydale campus to the Magic Box.

"Well, you do kinda beat him up a lot, Buffy," observed Willow when her friend stopped to take a breath.

"Yeah, well, he deserves it! He's evil!" snapped Buffy. "You know, he just went off on me, then left me there! He told me 'sod off, Slayer!' then walked away! How dare he? How dare he walk away from me after I saved his bleached butt?!"

"M-maybe you shouldn't be so mean to him," piped up Tara. "I mean, Willow's right. You do beat him up a lot."

"But he's evil," the Slayer whined. "How else am I supposed to keep him in line?"

"Oh, come on, Buffy. You know he can't hurt anyone with that chip in his head. How else does he need to be kept in line?" reasoned Willow. "What actual evil has he been up to recently?"

"Lots!" insisted Buffy. "He steals! All the time! And, and..." she trailed off, trying to think of something else.

"So what, are you going to start beating up every thief in Sunnydale to keep them in line? Really, Buffy, I don't think Spike's as bad as he used to be," said the redhead. "In fact," she continued, "he's been kinda helpful of late. And with Glory around, I hate to say it but you may need his help against her."

"I will *never* need his help!" pouted the blonde as the three girls approached the door to the shop.

Turning, Willow gave Tara a telling look, then said "Hon, we'll meet you inside, okay?"

After fondly watching the blonde witch enter the shop, Willow turned back to her friend. "Buffy, I thought you were going to give Spike a little more credit. You know, vampire brownie points or something. Are you sure you're not overreacting a teensy bit? I mean, yesterday you were all with the sexy Spike dream and today you're hating him pretty righteously."

"I am not overreacting!" grumbled Buffy.

Willow raised an eyebrow. "Best friend, here, Buff. I'm telling you, you are. In fact, I think he's getting under your skin because you're," the redhead lowered her voice to a whisper, "starting to like him."

"Willow!" Buffy cried. "Ew! I so do NOT like him."

"Oh come on. You're having sexy dreams about him, and the way you two bicker you might as well be married." Willow pointed out.

"No way, Will. You're wrong. I don't like him, not at all. He's evil!" insisted the Slayer petulantly.

Rolling her eyes, the witch turned to open the door to the Magic Box. "Okay, if you don't like him, why did you save him last night?" With that, Willow went in, leaving Buffy standing on the sidewalk, speechless.

---

Try as she might, Buffy couldn't answer that question. So, she took out her frustration on the punching bag in the back room of the shop. So intent on pounding some sense into her situation, she didn't notice Giles standing in the corner, watching her.

"Is something wrong, Buffy?" inquired the watcher with concerned tone, startling her.

"What? Oh, hey Giles." Grabbing a towel, she turned to face him. "What's up?"

"How are you doing, Buffy?" Giles tried again.

Buffy shrugged. "I'm okay, I guess. Why?"

"You just seem to be bothered. Or, terribly angry with the punching bag, one of the two." Giles gave her a knowing look. "What's on your mind?"

Buffy wiped her face with the towel, using the second to decide what to say. She couldn't tell her watcher about Spike, no, couldn't do that. "Just, just Glory and stuff," she finally answered. "Not knowing what she is, or why she wants Dawn. Waiting for the Council to call us back with info. I guess it's just getting to me is all." She looked up at Giles, hoping he bought it. It wasn't a lie, per say, just a slight omission.

"Yes, I can see how that would be getting to you, I daresay it's starting to get to me too. I hope the Council gets back to us soon. In the meanwhile, though, there's something I wanted to talk to you about." Giles took off his glasses, and began the dreaded polishing.

"Come on, Giles. Spill," prodded Buffy.

"Well, I've been thinking about how to best protect Dawn from Glory. You, unfortunately, cannot always be with her. Between your duties as the Slayer, and your commitments to university, she's left unprotected quite a bit."

"Yeah," agreed Buffy quietly. "But I don't see what we can do about that, Giles. There's only one of me. I can't be everywhere at once, you know."

"Yes, Buffy, I'm aware of that. What we need is someone who can help you with your duties, and help keep Dawn safe when you're not with her."

"Sure, well, Dawnie could stay with Xander and Anya, or Willow and Tara when I'm not around, or you, even. I don't see what the big problem with that is," the blonde replied.

Giles cleared his throat. "The problem is that none of us are capable of protecting Dawn, not like you are. We don't have the strength to stand up to Glory, even for a second." He paused, hoping that his next words wouldn't send his Slayer into a rage.

"I think we should ask Spike for his help, Buffy."

"I think we should ask Spike for his help, Buffy."

Giles had shocked the living hell out of her when he said that. Her first reaction was to laugh, but the look on the Watcher's face told her he wasn't kidding. Then came the inevitable argument, which she lost. Badly. Of course he was right; there simply wasn't anyone else strong enough. She had finally relented, and agreed to approach the vampire.

And thus it was that the Slayer found herself in front of Spike's crypt, preparing for her most difficult trial since she had been called 5 years prior. She was going to have to be nice to Spike. Not just be nice, but ask for his help, which also meant apologizing for her treatment of him, if his outburst the previous night was any indication.

She lifted her foot to kick in the door, then stopped herself. Can't kick his door in if I'm making nice, she reminded herself. Instead, she did something she had never done before. She knocked on Spike's door. When she didn't get an answer, she tried again. After waiting for a while, she opened the door carefully, and entered the crypt.

"Spike?" She called softly. "Spike? Are you here?" There was no response.

'He could still be sleeping,' she reasoned. The sun hadn't yet set, and he was, after all, a creature of the night. So she headed down the ladder to the lower level.

---

He watched as Buffy panted, trying to catch her breath as the dust of the last vamp settled to the ground.

"Well done, Slayer," he said, emerging from the shadows of the alley behind the Bronze.

The Slayer's eyes narrowed. "Spike," she spat his name out like an epithet.

"Nice to see you too," he drawled, leering at her. The glaze of sweat from the fight made her flirty red dress cling to her like a second skin. He didn't have much time to appreciate the view before she lunged at him, stake in hand. And thus their dance began.

He could feel himself harden to a painful degree as they traded blows. Equally matched, the fight went on and on, neither seemingly able to gain the advantage. Then, in what could only be described as luck, Spike flung her into the wall, face first, and followed closely, using his body to pin hers to the wall. He grabbed her by the wrists, holding them over her head against the brick. Grinding his cock into her ass, he lowered his fangs to her throat, ready to take the life of his third Slayer when the unmistakable aroma of her arousal hit him.

"Spike," his name escaped her lips in a breathy moan as she pushed back against him.

The vampire knew that he should kill her, knew he should take her life. But in the instant she moaned his name, something shifted within him. Using one hand to keep her wrists above her head, he reached down and freed his aching erection from his jeans. He pulled her dress up, exposing her pert buttocks. He ripped the lacy thong from her body, and, gripping his cock, he aligned himself with her soaking entrance.

"Please..." Her voice left no question in his mind, and with one smooth stroke he plunged into her molten core. He roared as her searing heat gripped him, and began thrusting at a frantic, bruising pace. Her incoherent cries echoed all around him, spurring him on. Using his free hand he gripped her hair, pulling her head to one side roughly, and plunged his fangs into her neck.

The second her hot blood filled his mouth, he felt his sac begin to tighten. Pulling away from her neck, he drove himself into her with a force that would have shattered the bones of a normal girl, and erupted violently within her, moaning her name as the Slayer's own climax overtook her.

---

The sight that awaited her took her breath away. Spike was lying on his side, his back to her. Nude. Without a blanket. The few candles scattered about cast just enough light for her to see him. She licked her lips as she took in his muscular shoulders, and let her eyes continue their journey down his back to his... oh my God! Spike ass! Ass of Spike! She gulped. It was perfect. Buffy wondered how she had never noticed how hot he was. No, stupid, her inner voice chided. You have noticed, you just haven't admitted it!

She stood gaping for who knows how long when he stirred. She turned away to hide, but he just rolled onto his back, still sleeping. Letting out the breath she was holding she looked again. And gasped, audibly. While his perfect chest and chiseled abs were droolworthy, what had caught her attention was his erection, standing proud at attention. It was big. Bigger than Riley, and Parker too. She felt herself flood with moisture, transfixed by the sight.

"Buffy."

She choked. He had said her name! Spike was dreaming about her! That meant... that meant that his hard on was for her. The idea aroused her. A lot.

Spike awoke slowly to the sound of a fast pounding heartbeat. Then the scent of arousal hit him. Buffy's arousal. He opened his eyes a crack, and could see her leaning against the ladder, staring at him, or, more accurately, at his cock.

"Like what you see, luv?" he asked casually.

She was completely, utterly, and totally busted. Feeling herself flush with complete embarrassment at the knowing smirk on his face, she opened her mouth to speak, but only a strangled moan came out. She tried again to speak, but couldn't. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she started up the ladder, and ran away as fast as she possibly could.