After spending the night watching Spike cheat at kitten poker when he was supposed to be getting information about whatever baddie had decided to try his hand at killing her, probably through boredom if the never-ending hour at the Magic Shop was any indication, Buffy was fed up when she stumbled outside after her ‘fix me’ speech to Spike. She was frustrated and though she had accused Spike, she knew that she was the drunker half of the couple. The black van across the street stopped her in her tracks. She recognized it and was trying to place it as Spike came rushing up behind her.

“That van”

“You want to steal a van I’m with you luv, be have got the motorcycle”

“I’ve seen it before. At the construction site.”

Suddenly an ugly, red, winged demon appeared.

“Aaarg. You have discovered me, but do not try and defeat me for I have been testing you and I know your weaknesses… hahahaha”

With an unbalanced kick which sent her sprawling onto the ground, which would never happen normally, but with a bottle of whisky in her, you really couldn’t blame a girl for a bit of uncoordinated fighting could you? And what kind of demon sounded like a cartoon bad guy anyways? After Spike helped her up and the red demon disappeared in a white cloud of smoke, she was more confused than ever. It had been a little too easy, she recognized even in her inebriated state.

“He blew up did you see that?” Buffy exclaimed.

“Yeah, I saw. He’s gone.” Spike muttered in reply.

“I love it you know. Makes you feel all powerful you know. Strong. And sick,” Buffy stumbled toward the drain in the alley and let her insides make their way outside. As she retched, Spike moved up behind her and started rubbing her back in soothing circles.

“Had a bit too much fun, eh pet?” Spike asked softly when she appeared to be finished.

“Shut up Spike,” Buffy muttered weakly, running the denim sleeve of her jacket over her mouth. “Why’d you cheat at poker anyways? I thought you were good.”

Spike smiled at her unexpected praise, “yeah, but they all cheat. ‘S part of the fun. Seeing what you can get away with.” Buffy straightened herself, regretfully moving away from Spike’s soothing ministrations.

“What do you say we go back to my crypt and you can get yourself cleaned up before you head home? You may not want to make a grand entrance like that.” Spike pointed to the vomit which adorned her shirt and shoes.

“Not that it isn’t a fetching look mind you,” he added with a smirk.

“Eww, gross Spike! I guess it’s a good idea though,” Buffy admitted looking at herself. And if she was being completely honest with herself, she didn’t feel like going home yet. Aside from her detour to spill her stomach contents in the gutter and the non-fight with the winged red demon, she was actually enjoying her time with Spike.

“Alright let’s go Spike. Where’s that helmet you have for no apparent reason?” Buffy stalked over to where the black motorcycle sat in the alley.

“No reason? I have it for you, pet. Wouldn’t want that pretty little noggin bashed up would ya?” Spike stuck the keys into the ignition and the motorcycle responded in a low rumble.

“Whatever.” Buffy slipped on the helmet and climbed on behind Spike, resting her helmeted head on his shoulder. The nausea still hadn’t worn off and she figured the best way to keep from a repeat of her earlier state was to keep her head down and think about anything but food or feeling ill. She focused in on the scents filling the night air and couldn’t help but notice that the smell of Spike’s leather duster mixed in with tobacco and his own personal spice was incredibly soothing.

Spike decided it was best not to comment on the Slayer’s head on his shoulder as he rode through the dark and nearly empty streets of Sunnydale toward Restfield. He enjoyed the weight of her head and the steady heat that flowed into his body from where her back was pressed up against him. He could feel her heartbeat through his back and relished in being this close to her, if only on the back of his bike.

Spike stashed his bike at the caretakers place, next to the DeSoto, and they walked in companionable silence toward his crypt. Once inside Buffy removed her black boots and scrunched her nose at the remains of her dinner left on them.

“Gross! Where can I get cleaned up?” she looked down at her shirt and even though it was black she still felt grungy dressed in a vomit splattered shirt. “And, uh, can I borrow a shirt?”

Spike smiled at that, “Can’t wait to get into my clothes then pet?”

Buffy made a face and replied, “Yeah that’s it,” voice dripping in sarcasm. “Unless you prefer me stinky and dirty, I think I’d better borrow something.”

“I’d take you stinky and dirty any time Slayer,” Spike said, tongue rolled behind his teeth, before quickly dodging out of the way of a punch aimed at his nose.

“Oi! No punching! I’ll get you a soddin’ shirt and there’s a gardener’s tap out back if you want to rinse your shoes.” He jumped into the lower level contemplating what shirt to give her that would be the best to show off her tight little body. He sighed as he realized that she probably wouldn’t agree to anything but a t-shirt, but grabbed one of his red silk button-down shirts instead.

When he emerged from the lower level of his crypt, Spike tossed her the red shirt and walked over to the corner searching for another bottle of JD. Watching her out of the corner of his eye, he saw Buffy eye him suspiciously, then shrug before turning around and changing into his shirt. Spike didn’t miss the brief glimpse of black lace which adorned her back before it was covered again in red silk. The colour suited her, her blond hair looked even more like sunshine and spun gold than usual against the deep blood red.

Spike shook himself out of his contemplations and grabbed the lost JD bottle and shot glasses before hopping onto the sarcophagus.

“Care to join me luv? The best remedy for illness,” he smirked holding up the bottle.

Buffy scrunched up her nose at the thought of how bad it tasted, but her nice buzz was wearing off she shook of her distaste and figured why not. She seated herself cross-legged opposite Spike and took the shot he held toward her.

“Blech!” Buffy voiced her distaste over the fiery liquid. “So, will you teach me how to play poker?”

“You wanna learn do ya?” Spike smiled at her adorable whiskey face before producing a pack of cards from one of his duster pockets. “Why should I teach you?”

“Why should you teach me?” Buffy asked confused. At Spike’s nod she searched her mind for a plausible reason. “Because.”

“Because? You’ve got to do better than that Slayer. Why do you want to learn all of a sudden?”

“I don’t know. Just seems like fun. Besides, it’s the ‘in’ thing to do right now isn’t it? With all the celebrity poker thingies on TV.”

Spike smiled. “Yeah, guess it is. Right, not that that isn’t a grand reason Slayer, I’m sure that’s not why you have a certain inspiration to learn poker from a vamp who you accused of cheating at kitten poker, but I’ll teach ya. It’s not that hard.”

Spike started mixing the cards and Buffy found herself watching his hands as he mixed the deck. She had never noticed how beautiful his hands were before. He had relatively large hands for his height. Long white fingers with well kept nails with the exception of the chipped black polish. Buffy briefly reminisced about how those hands felt on her body, memories she rarely indulged in since Willow’s ‘my will be done’ spell. She was so wrapped up that she missed most of the rules.

“So that leaves a Royal Flush. Ace through ten, all one suit. That’s the winning hand you always dream of. Got it?” Spike nimbly dealt out five cards each and placed the deck beside his five before picking them up and arranging them. Buffy picked up her cards and stared at them not knowing what to do since she hadn’t been listening.

“So how many do you want?” Spike looked at her, taking in her wide-eyed and confused expression. “Were you even listening earlier?”

“Um, yeah.” Buffy responded flushing slightly. “Ok, so no I wasn’t. What do I do again?”

Spike sighed and laid his cards down face-up on the table. “Ok so we’ll do this open hand the first time, just pay attention this time,” he said with a sigh while surveying her cards.

“Now you want to keep these,” indicating the Ace and king of Spades, “but not these three.” He took the remaining three cards and put them in a pile in the centre.

“Now you get three new cards see?” He placed the next three face-up in front of her: ironically the queen, jack, and ten of Spades.

“Fuck, of course you’d get yourself a Royal Flush without so much as battin’ an eyelash.” He proceeded to exchange two of his own cards leaving him with two tens and three fours.

“Right so you’ve got a Royal Flush. That’s the last one I told you about yeah? It’s the Big Bad of the poker world, beats anythin’. And I’ve got a full house. So you win this round.” He popped the top off the bottle of JD and handed her a new shot which she took with her usual whiskey face and mutter of disdain.

“So I win!” Buffy smiled. After downing another shot of JD she said in a perky voice, “I don’t know why this is so hard, seems easy to me.”

“’S that so luv?” Spike raised his scarred eyebrow at her, “care to add some incentive then?”

Though she knew the look on his face could only lead to trouble, the alcohol had alleviated much of her inhibition and raised his eyebrow quirk with a Slayer smirk.

“Well since I always win any time we compete, I’m game. What do you propose?” She stared into the very blue eyes that were watching her intently.

Spike smiled broadly at her. “Well you’ve agreed so there’s no turnin’ back missy! I say we make it a game of strip poker.” Spike couldn’t help it if his smile was just a little bit evil as he watched her cheeks redden. After all, he was still the Big Bad.

Strip poker. Of course it would be, Buffy thought to herself. With her best impression of Willow’s resolve face she looked Spike straight into his smug eyes.

“Fine, I figured you’d come up with something like this! But NO cheating. I mean it mister. If you cheat you’ll be dead meat! Well, dead-er anyway.”

Spike looked at the grim resolve that marred Buffy’s features and said, “Alright luv, no cheatin’. You know the rules yeah? So for every hand you lose, you take off one piece of kit.”

“You mean that for every hand you loose, you take off a piece of your kit,” Buffy mocked back at him.

Spike smiled, “Yeah whatever you say Slayer.”

Dealing out a fresh hand of cards to each of them, Spike placed the rest of the deck on the lid of the sarcophagus. He mused over his own hand, debating his next move and wondering if he should go easy on her the first round. Give her some confidence so she would play worse later. If there was one thing he figured himself good at, it was poker. After choosing which of his five cards he would exchange, he tossed them into a waste pile and looked up at Buffy. Her nose was scrunched up in concentration, her pink tongue stuck between her teeth. She looked adorable.

“Right, how many cards then pet?” he asked, grabbing the deck and shaking himself out of his thoughts.

Buffy couldn’t remember which was better, a full house or a straight. Maybe she should have played a few more hands before she made that stupid remark. Looking at the two Aces in her hands she decided to just go with it and see what happened. She was wearing more clothes than him after all, hopefully that would be an advantage.

“Three,” Buffy discarded her old cards into the same pile that Spike had earlier. Spike dealt her three from the top and she resumed her pondering. “So do we bet or something now? Is that how it works? Or do I just show you my cards and then win?” She smiled brilliantly at him, full of liquid courage.

Spike perused the two new cards he dealt himself and arranged them in his hand. Looking up at her he said, “well either or Slayer. If we bet you stand to loose more than if we show our hands right away. May be best to just show me what you’ve got.”

“Okay,” Buffy placed her cards face-up on the table. “Three Aces! Beat that vampire!” She exclaimed.

Spike huffed and put his hand containing a pair of kings down. He still wasn’t sure this was going according to plan.

“Ha!” Buffy smiled triumphantly. “I win this one. That’s one piece off for you!” She watched as Spike glared at her and pulled off one of his big black boots which hit the floor of the crypt with a resonant thump.

“I’m soooo gonna beat you!” Buffy couldn’t help giggling as Spike resumed the game by dealing new sets of cards to each of them.

“Don’t be too confident Slayer,” Spike grumbled in his low voice. “We’ve only jus’ started.”

The next hand was dealt and played with Spike winning the second hand with a full house. Buffy’s eyes shot daggers as she shrugged out of her denim jacket, some of her earlier bravado evaporating. Maybe she shouldn’t have counted her chickens already. She poured herself more whiskey and steeled herself for both the taste and the next round. With grim determination she played the next hands on edge, winning one and loosing another.

“Not so confident anymore are we pet?” Spike smiled, leaning towards Buffy who was down a jacket and a stylish boot. The loss of his own boots was taken as a necessary set back. He knew he’d get her naked in the end, his cockiness and self-confidence heightening with each of Buffy’s losses.

“Shut up Spike,” came Buffy’s irate reply.

“Oh how very original Blondie. Think of that one all by yourself?” Spike’s smirk grew as he stared in the green eyes before him glittering in anger.

“Surprisingly enough, yeah I did, Fang Face. Gotta stick with the classics,” Buffy organized her next hand during the bantering, hoping that the new cards would give her something she could use or she’d loose a second hand in a row.

“Alright, time to spread em’!” he couldn’t resist the innuendo as it caused Buffy to flush in a delightful fashion. He felt safe with his own version of a flush, all Spades, ready to win the next hand.

Buffy threw her useless cards on the table and without a word stripped off one of her socks, aiming it straight into Spike’s self-satisfied smirk.

“Oh, Slayer’s lost two in a row. Better alert ol’ Rupes. Wouldn’t want a vamp of my repute compromising his darlin’ Slayer,” Spike had easily caught the soft missile and was laughing at Buffy’s rage contorted face. She would loose this game. He would see to it.

After recovering her composure and sticking her tongue out at Spike as a retort Buffy asked, “So what do I get when I win? Besides your utter humiliation at being naked AND beaten by me, again.”

“Suppose we shoulda figured that out at the beginnin’,” Spike drawled. Curling his tongue behind his teeth, with a trademark smirk he asked, “what do you want besides seein’ my hot lil’ body on display that is?’

Buffy flushed scarlet from head to toe. She wouldn’t admit that the way Spike looked, all cockiness and sex appeal, had any effect on her whatsoever, and instead concentrated on a fitting prize for the win. Suddenly a thought occurred to her, and it was Buffy’s turn to smirk evilly.

“Your coat. I win and it’s mine.”

Spike couldn’t wipe the stunned expression off his face after hearing what she wanted as a prize.

“No bleedin’ way Slayer. It’s mine! I won it fair n’ square before you were even a fleetin’ thought in your mum’s brain!” he clutched the duster protectively around him, glaring at her, eyes flashing yellow for a brief instant. “Pick somethin’ else. You’re not getting’ m’ coat.”

“Oh Spikey, I think it’s an excellent idea,” Buffy continued on, knowing she picked the one thing that meant something to him. “There’s nothing else of yours I want. Besides, anything else I would ask for you’d steal to get so this way I know you won’t do something illegal. And, bonus, you wouldn’t cheat to keep it cuz it’s all sentimental and stuff,” her green eyes twinkling in delight at his horrified expression.

Spike was angry. How dare she ask for the duster, his hard earned battle prize? Well he’d show her who was the better warrior, regardless of their current form of weapon and battleground.

“Fine Slayer,” he growled menacingly, “you win, you get the coat. And if I win…” He purposefully trailed off, apparently in deep thought.

Buffy wasn’t sure that it had been such a hot idea to demand the coat as her prize when she looked at the determination and red hot angry glare Spike bestowed on her. His blue eyes were flecked with gold and were almost mesmerizing in their cold intensity. She could hardly find her voice to ask him what he intended to win from her.

“A kiss,” the cold intensity in Spike’s eyes darkened slightly with his proclamation. “If I win I get to kiss you, Slayer”

“W-what?” Buffy stammered, “A kiss? All you want is a kiss.”

“Yeah, pet, all I want is a kiss,” Spike looked deeply into her green eyes where her emotions formed a turbulent storm. He saw her indecision, fear, and perhaps a hint of intrigue flash through them before giving way to her usual steely determination.

“Fine. ONE kiss. IF you win,” Buffy said with finality, then smiled, her competitive side once again ruling her mind, “which you won’t of course. Let’s play!”

Buffy was panicking. Officially panicky girl here, she thought to herself. Why had she ever agreed to this stupid card game? It was supposed to be so easy. Spike always lost against her. Always. She’d figured the type of fight wouldn’t have mattered. And now here she was, cold and topless save her lacy black bra, sitting across from a comfortably clothed Spike, playing strip poker.

Stupid, stupid Buffy! She thought to herself. Stupid vampire pretending to bad at this game at the beginning, and not even cheating! He was supposed to cheat so she’d win by default. But no, all of a sudden mister I’m-the-big-bad-kitten-poker-cheater played fair. She’d been watching him as he dealt the cards, even taking over dealer duty after she’d lost one too many articles of pointless clothing and jewellery to think he was playing fair. And still she lost! Stupid, stupid Buffy! I’m going to be naked soon. Naked with Spike. Naked kissing Spike! So not of the good.

Spike sat across from Buffy watching the various shades of panic erupt over her features. She had started getting the deer-in-headlights look when she was down to her top and jeans with only some delectable skivvies separating Spike from winning. Sure, he’d felt bad for her earlier so he’d allowed her arguments that each earring was a piece of her outfit and therefore usable in betting, but knew that she was soon out of luck. He leaned back on one elbow, naked foot up on the sarcophagus and made a show of leering at her now exposed golden skin. He didn’t want Buffy to see just how ‘happy’ he was to have her down to the last three hands.

“So what’s it gonna be now luv,” Spike licked his lips when she raised her gaze to look at him, causing another hike in her already fast heart rate.

“You know I hate you right? I mean I really, really HATE you,” Buffy said while throwing down the two cards Spike had requested in front of him. She gave herself three and almost sagged in relief when she saw that she could use them. Apparently the Powers were giving her a break.

“Full house,” Spike said, laying each card out in turn on the surface in front of him. “What have you got up your sleeve? Or should I say skin?”

Throwing her four tens down in a flourish on top of Spike’s cards she quickly used her now free hands to cover as much of her exposed skin as possible. Upon seeing her hand, Spike merely shrugged and pulled off his black button down shirt over his head, carelessly adding it to the pile that contained his duster and boots.

Buffy found herself shaking, but not from the cold air in the crypt which had given her skin a nice gooseflesh covering. She was so irritated and angry at Spike. She had won, but he made it look like he’d made the choice to take off the shirt. And she would not look at how the muscles in his arms rippled like those described in romance novels, as he raised the shirt over his head, now left in only a black wifebeater. And she would definitely not notice how smooth and white his skin was in the moonlight, almost like those marble statues you found in Greece. No, she was going to remain angry. But it’s not like it hurts to look at him, she thought, I can appreciate a hot man – uh – vampire when I see one. After all, he’d been ogling her since she’d lost her top.

Spike watched as Buffy again pondered her cards with furrowed brow. She looked so cute when she was concentrating. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders as she had insisted that her hair elastic should count seeing as the hair style was just as essential to an outfit as the clothing. He was a bloody idiot for allowing it, seeing as if he hadn’t, she wouldn’t be wearing that scrap of lace which somehow passed as a bra. Not that he was complaining. The fleeting glimpse of her hardened nipples through the thin fabric was still worth it. He wondered how it would feel to tweak those nipples as he caressed her breasts or how sweet they would taste if he sucked on them. Would Buffy moan or scream as he devoted hours to the pert mounds in front of him? He’d get lost before he ever let his hands wander further down her supple shape.

“Stop staring at my boobs you perv!” Buffy’s voice cut through his musings as her fanned cards effectively blocked the objects of his musings.

“How many?” Buffy asked. Spike hadn’t even looked at his cards and pulled the two lowest denominations from the five in his hand barely noticing the suit. The two new cards did nothing to help him, and he realized he had nothing to work with at all. His loss was rewarded with a shriek of pleasure and giggles from a still tipsy Buffy.

“Two in a row! Take that you stupid vampire! I know I’ll win now. Off with that tank mister ‘The Bloody’, cuz if you can check out my chest, I should be able to see yours!” Buffy’s eyes glittered in mirth, already more relaxed than she had been minutes before. She didn’t even notice her slip of tongue.

“You can do more than just see my chest pet. If you so desire that is…” Spike said with a devilish grin, not about to let such a golden opportunity go. Instead of the expected comeback, Buffy burst into uncharacteristic giggles while reaching for the nearly empty bottle of JD, pouring two full shot glasses. She lifted it toward her lips, psyching herself up for the awful taste when Spike started stripping off his top.

Spike’s slender fingers pulled the hem from the waistband of his black jeans. The alabaster planes of his well sculpted abs were revealed slowly. He noted Buffy’s sudden rapt attention and he took time to flex each muscle group in his torso and arms as he pulled the tank slowly above his bleached locks.

Buffy stared straight into the crystal clear azure depths of Spike’s eyes when they were revealed to her again. His lips stretched into a seductive smile. Licking her lips, Buffy felt her pulse quicken as she remembered how soft those lips were against her own last year. He was a very good kisser. His tongue could do amazing things… To feel that gain may be worth losing.

“So, like what you see Slayer?” Spike again noticed the increase in her heart rate, along with the faint smell of her arousal in the air. He quickly tossed back the shot she had poured for him, giving Buffy another tantalizing view of his muscles at work.

“What?” Buffy had no idea what those beautiful lips had uttered, but followed suit with Spike and downing her shot to clear her mind. “Blech!”

Okay, so mind is not so clear, she thought to herself. Pull yourself together Summers, you could still win this one.


“I’ll take that as a yes then kitten.”

“Sure, whatever you said,” Buffy attempted to shuffle the cards like Spike had earlier, long fingers curled around two piles of cards falling together as if by magic. It looked so easy, but at her own attempt the deck exploded sending cards around the top of the sarcophagus, the two players, and the floor around them.

“Oops,” she said with a coy little smile, noting that a few of the cards had landed on the bulge in his jeans. Spike laughed at her shock and embarrassment, taking the extent to which the cards had dispersed.

“Not quite how you do that pet,” a smirk spreading across his face. “But seein’ as you’re the one who created this mess, you have to pick ‘em all up.”

“What? No way! That’s so not fair!”

“Oh? I’m not the one who decided to throw ‘em around the place? Stallin’ for a little time Slayer?”

“No, but you could be a gentleman and at least help me pick them up!”

“Nah, not a gentleman anymore Slayer. But I’ll count the cards you bring back to me for ya so we know you’ve got ‘em all. After all, I’m not far away from seein’ you in all your golden glory, am I?”

Buffy shot him an indignant glare and shoved a pile of cards into his hands before gathering the ones spread around her. She planned on politely ignoring the ones in his lap.

“You could at least pick up the ones around you!”

“An’ miss you crawling all over me in just your bra? No Slayer, me thinks not.”

“You’re such a pig Spike.”

“Oink oink baby. You’ve found 39 sweetheart, 15 to go.”

Grumbling, Buffy hopped down to the floor of the crypt searching for any strays. It was cold and she shivered slightly as she crawled around collecting the cards. Spike watched her as she stretched to reach a card around the corner of the sarcophagus, noting the light shiver which shook her body. He was surprised to find himself feeling bad about causing her discomfort, but shook it off to enjoy the view before him.

She rose off the floor after having collected nine more cards which had fallen around their makeshift table. While her feet were on the ground she decided to walk around Spike’s body so she could avoid having to crawl over his body to get the cards. She retrieved three cards from behind him, leaving the three that had settled themselves in his lap. She glanced up at him, a self indulgent grin spread across his face, and deftly reached toward the cards.

Two can play at this game, she thought to herself. Not bothering to question her reasons for teasing the vampire, she reached out plucking one card at a time, lightly brushing her fingers over the growing bulge with each card. She turned her fiery green glance to his darkening one as she reached for the last card. She pulled it slowly away trailing her fingers after the card. She didn’t miss the shallow intake of unneeded breath which Spike took at the contact with her fingers.

The chit is trying to kill me, Spike glowered at the Slayer who was obviously fully aware of the effect she was having on him. The faux innocent look in her eyes and the little smirk which toyed at her lips gave her away.

“Alright Slayer, that makes an even 52. Let’s go. I can’t wait to get you naked,” he said in a low drawl, licking his lips for added emphasis. He made a show of watching her as she crawled back up onto the lid and settled cross-legged in front of him again.

“Alright Spikey, if you’re ready to concentrate,” Buffy picked up her cards and smirked at him. Shit, she thought after seeing that she’d been left with nothing to go on. She made an all out effort by replacing all five cards throwing her hand to Chance.

And apparently loosing, Buffy grimaced at her cards before tossing them into a worthless heap on the ground. She sulked even more when Spike proudly displayed a pair of sevens.

She was down to two choices, she could strip off her jeans and be left in her lacy black underwear ensemble, or she could just get rid of her bra while still covering her lower half against the elements. She knew that her night’s choice in underwear would leave little to the imagination, and the cool night air certainly made her lean toward just ridding herself of her bra. She could still cover herself with her hands right?

When Spike won the hand he expected her to toss off her jeans without a second thought, leaving all her sensitive bits still covered, though less so. He didn’t however, expect to see her reach behind her back, unclasp her bra and replace the black lace with her little hands in less than a second. He now had her topless, and obviously flustered by his attention. He curled his tongue behind his upper teeth and smiled at her show of bravado.

“A bold move pet. I thought for sure I’d have your pants off by now.”

“In your dreams fang face,” Buffy said with more courage than she felt. “Just deal me some cards. I’m still gonna win this you know,” she added glaring at him.

“Sure you are pet,” Spike smiled and dealt the next hand. Another winner, he thought to himself as he picked up his cards. And judging by the crestfallen expression Buffy wore, she’d certainly lost this latest hand as well. She had split the cards between her hands, opting to use her cards to cover her nipples rather than risk something popping out behind an arm. All her carefully placed cards did however, was show off the soft swell of her breasts as they were pressed against her chest. He took time to really look at her beautiful body as she considered her next move. The taught lines of her stomach, the golden hue of her skin and the gentle curve of her hips which fell into the hem of her jeans.

Buffy sat up straighter and cocked her head to the side, urgently doing all she could to keep her breasts covered from Spike’s too intent gaze. She realized that she’d lost again. The hand she currently was using to cover herself was a certain loser. How could she ever agree to this? Well I certainly didn’t consider the possibility of loosing did I? Buffy fumed in her mind. She glared at Spike who sat there smugly.

“What have you got?” she asked him.

“Three Aces. Show me yours,” he replied in his most seductive tone, fully intending the phrase to be dripping in innuendo.

“Nothing. Nothing at all, jerk,” Buffy knew she’d lost, and was nearly completely finished.

“Like I have anything to do with your lack of skill at cards pet. ‘M just reapin’ the benefits!”

Deciding not to delay the inevitable, Buffy turned quickly and hopped down behind the sarcophagus leaving her jeans in a heap on the floor. She made use of her Slayer agility and strength and jumped back up on top, allowing her to keep her arms crossed over her chest. Sitting back down, knees to her chest, she resigned herself to what may be her last hand.

Spike dealt the next hand, noting the look of grim determination Buffy wore with a hint of sadness. She knew she was going to loose. He smiled inwardly, but at the same time felt a twinge of something he couldn’t afford to explore. This night was supposed to be about cheering her up. He hoped that regardless of the result of the game, she’d still be happy in the end. He sure as hell wasn’t about to give up his duster just to see her happy. Was he?

The next hand was dealt and won by a still sullen Buffy. Spike made a show of slipping his belt through each of the loops, causing the ghost of a smile to grace the Slayer’s lips. But the final hand was dealt and played, with Buffy as the clear loser.

She couldn’t believe that she’d lost. Buffy the Vampire Slayer lost to a lowly vampire. Ok, maybe not so lowly, he keeps insisting he’s a master vampire at least, Buffy thought. But still, it’s Spike! His plans never work!

With one arm strategically placed over her chest and crawling down behind the sarcophagus for the second time that evening, she glared at Spike. She managed, somewhat shakily to divest herself of the lacy black thong she was wearing and threw it right into his widely smirking face.

“Fine. You win. Happy now? I’m naked,” she spat at him; still covering her chest with one hand and now her other went down to cover her exposed sex. She was not about to let Spike see her choice in bikini waxes if she had anything to say about it. Buffy shivered and couldn’t keep her teeth from starting to chatter in the cool air. Winter may not be cold in Sunnydale, but it certainly wasn’t birthday suit friendly.

“I think you look quite fetching Slayer,” tongue curled behind his teeth Spike admired the beautiful golden goddess now standing in all her naked glory in front of him. Ok, hiding behind the sarcophagus, but still. He’d caught her flying underwear and managed to tuck them into the back pocket of his jeans without causing too much notice from the irate Slayer. He was trying to decide how to best kiss her while naked, so he could feel her hot little body pressed up against him; but he couldn’t get past the terrified expression reflected in her green eyes, or the way her body shook in the cold air.

“Alright pet, put your kit back on. I’ve won fair ‘n square, but there’s no need to have you shivering that tight lil’ ass of yours off.”

Shocked didn’t begin to describe Buffy’s reaction to Spike’s statement. He doesn’t want to kiss me when I’m naked? Is there something he doesn’t like, she found herself thinking. No, not wrong. Thoughts wrong. Get dressed, no need to wonder why the evil vampire doesn’t take advantage of a naked girl…

Buffy was still staring in shock as Spike turned around to gather up her clothes from the floor. She quickly bent and slipped on her jeans and turned her back to him as she slipped on her bra again. Still wondering over Spike’s seemingly gentlemanly side, she didn’t sense him come up close behind her.

“Here ya go pet,” Spike’s voice right behind her startled her. She turned around to face him seeing the red silk shirt in his hands.

“I thought you’d be jumping for joy to kiss me when I was naked. I didn’t take you for being a gentleman,” she stated with more than a hint of wonder in her voice.

“Yeah well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me Slayer. Now put this on. I know you’ll probably burn it when you get home, but your tops still ruined,” he glanced away from her penetrating gaze. Buffy quickly slipped the cool silk onto her body and revelled in the soft material against her skin.

“Thanks,” Buffy’s soft spoken word brought Spike’s eyes back to hers. She was stunning standing there in his red shirt, still unbuttoned, staring up at him with those green emeralds.

Buffy stared into his blue gaze and shivered under the intensity she saw in the depths of his eyes. Her shiver seemed to break the spell between them, and Spike quickly moved back to his pile of clothes, picking up his treasured duster and was back before her in hardly the blink of an eye. He wrapped the heavy leather around her shoulders, taking her loose locks and pulling them out of the collar to hang freely around her shoulders. Spike raised his hand to briefly run his hand through her hair a second time, hoping he wouldn’t be rewarded with a punch in the face for his forwardness.

“That better luv?” he asked softly.

“Much,” Buffy found herself saying relishing in the warmth the heavy leather afforded her. It smelled like Spike: tobacco, whiskey, and that musk that was all his own. She smiled shyly up at him.

“Now about my prize,” Spike said returning the smile before bending toward her slowly. Buffy couldn’t move. Speechless and still, she watched as he hesitantly moved his face towards her, watching for any hint of indecision from Buffy. She made the slightest move toward him, leaning closer to his expectant lips.

Spike barely brushed her lips in a soft kiss. She felt his soft cool lips on her own and sighed as he added gentle pressure. Before she knew what she was doing, Buffy slid her palms up the cool skin of his arms, effectively pulling him closer. Spike took her invitation for what it was, and pulled her flush against his body, his hands spanning over her warm waist. Buffy’s fingers came up to tangle in the curls at the nape of his neck. Spike felt her soft breasts pressed against his chest through the thin layers of lace and silk, her nipples hard points which burned into the skin on his chest. His hands roamed across the soft skin of her bare back, having slipped them under his own shirt to feel her warmth flesh to flesh.

Buffy felt like her body was on fire as Spike’s cool hands skimmed over her back. Her stomach was pressed flush against his own and she found herself dizzy from the contact of skin against skin. Buffy felt like her knees were going to give way, but safe in the knowledge that Spike’s strong arms would be there to hold her if she did fall; she gave over control of the kiss to him. His cool tongue had slipped past her lips and was as talented as she remembered, maybe even more so. She felt the evidence of his arousal pressing against her stomach.

Spike reluctantly pulled away and ended the kiss, with a soft peck on the tip of her nose. They were both breathing ragged, deep breaths, and he rested his forehead against hers, trying to gain some semblance of control. He wasn’t going to push her tonight, she wasn’t ready. He knew he couldn’t take advantage of her anymore, not after knowing the soft laughs they had shared this night. He wanted more from her than a few stolen nights of passion that she’d regret in the morning.

Buffy felt dizzy and high. Her forehead rested against Spike’s, her arms around his neck and his arms holding her securely against his own body. She peeked up at him through her lashes, gasping at the intensity in the deep blue depths. He wanted her badly, that was certain.

“Thanks kitten. I’ll play you again anytime,” Spike murmured softly and cocked his head to the side after reluctantly giving up its contact with Buffy’s. “Now you go on home, tuck yourself safely away in your bed, away from all the Big Bads out there.”

Buffy couldn’t speak. He was sending her away just like that after the kiss? He didn’t want more. What was wrong with this picture? Buffy found herself wondering why he was being such a normal man again. Better even, he was being a perfect gentleman, taking no advantage of her tipsy and emotionally shaky state. He lit a fire within her that she didn’t know she had before.

“Yeah, ok,” she found herself saying to him. But she found that she couldn’t move out of his embrace. Every rational thought in her mind was screaming at her to go home, to run away, that this was wrong. But plain Buffy, the romantic girl within, was just swept off her feet by a very charming and very sexy man. The sexy man who was right now buttoning up the shirt he’d loaned to her, not ripping it off of her.

Definitely not the Spike I know…

When she took a shaky step away from him, she nearly tripped over the uneven floor of the crypt.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be walkin’ home by yourself in this state. Come on, I’ll escort ya back to your castle princess,” Buffy watched as he grabbed his wifebeater and shirt off the floor, quickly slipping them on. She regretted the action as it left him fully clothed again. Spike slipped on his boots, and walked back to where Buffy was standing watching him. He held out his arm in invitation, pulling her small hand through to rest on his bicep.

They walked in comfortable silence back to Revello Drive, each lost in their own thoughts. Buffy was slowly admitting to herself that maybe Spike wasn’t as bad as she thought he was. Her arm still rested on his, and she stole a look at his handsome face. He really is a major hottie, she thought, smiling to herself.

Spike walked along beside Buffy, relishing every second her warm body remained in contact with his. Maybe good ol’ William’s romantic notions could really woo the ladies after all? He loved her so deeply and tonight’s kiss would have set his soul on fire if he had one.

I’m a bloody ponce, he thought and looked over at the petite blonde next to him. He caught her staring and gave her a soft smile.

They stopped in the backyard outside her window, neither wanting the night to end. Without saying a word, Spike drew her into his arms and kissed her gently.

“Goodnight Buffy. Sleep well kitten.” Buffy couldn’t find any words to say when she looked into his eyes. They were deep blue wells of love and affection, warming her very soul. Instead she shrugged out of his duster, giving him a soft smile.

“Thanks for tonight,” she said not elaborating, but making it clear that she meant the entire night, kiss and all.

“No problem pet. Anytime.”

Buffy stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him softly on the lips before climbing up to her bedroom window. She saw Spike leaning against the big tree in her yard as she reached to close her window. After a shy wave she made her way to her bathroom to quickly wash up before bed. She slipped out of her clothes, leaving them all in the laundry basket save Spike’s shirt. She slipped it back on over her naked body and snuggled in under her covers, wrapped in soft silk. She smiled to herself before falling asleep, relishing in the warm scents of tobacco, leather and musk.

Spike stayed outside her window until he heard her heart rate slow and her breathing even out in sleep. He turned and started making his way back to his crypt, sensing dawn soon approaching. Grinning to himself he relived the evening and nourished a hope that maybe he’d finally gotten the Slayer to realize the potential they had. Tonight definitely went better than he planned.

THE END


A/N: Hope you all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it and as always please review :)