When Buffy Summers had finally taken the decision to traverse the Atlantic Ocean and move to the United Kingdom, she had really thought everyone was joking about the British weather.



However, eight months later, and struggling to keep her car on the road in one of the worst storms she had ever encountered, she could see that it was far from funny.



When her stepdad, Rupert Giles, had persuaded her to relocate to the bustling city of London from the sleepy town of Sunnydale, California, where she had spent most of her teenage years, she had initially been reluctant.



However, when she walked in on her boyfriend of five years pumping away between another woman’s legs in their bed in the apartment they shared, she had thrown a few of her belongings into a suitcase and eagerly jumped onto the next flight out of there.



Both Rupert and her mother had been overjoyed to find that she was on her way to England, and immediately Giles had found her a position at his surveillance company.



Buffy hadn’t been convinced in the beginning whether she should take the job or not. After the trauma she was going through due to her now ex-boyfriend’s infidelity, she didn’t exactly feel connected to the world, and the first few weeks at the firm she spent aloof and detached.



However, before long she found herself fitting in much better, and aside from one or two people who she really didn’t get along with, most people were exceptionally friendly and accepting of the ‘new girl’.



Although the firm itself was located in London, Giles had gone to the trouble of finding her a beautiful cottage in a little hamlet about an hour away from the office. Many of his employees lived in the little town and he’d believed that it would help ease her transition from small town life in America to the bustle of England’s capital city.



However, now that the year had entered the icy heart of winter, meaning that she had to negotiate driving, on the wrong side of the road nonetheless, on winding country roads full of holes and bumps, she wasn’t sure that a nice minimalist apartment in the City wouldn’t have been better.



Buffy gripped the wheel with white knuckles as she endeavored to keep the vehicle steady in the driving rain and hail that was battering it with the force of a firing squad.



She actually began to wonder if this was the start of some kind of apocalypse. Mentally she tried to weigh up her good deeds against her naughtier sins to calculate if she would be heading up or down when the Rapture struck.



A bolt of lightning slashed the sky like a knife and Buffy shivered from the cold and the fear. She turned the car heater to full blast and pressed down on the gas pedal to try and get home a little faster.



However, she didn’t anticipate the tree that suddenly fell toward her car with an unhealthy crack and she was forced to violently swerve out of the way to miss it. Unfortunately her responses weren’t fast enough and she clipped the fallen tree with the front of her car, hearing a nasty crunch before the engine fizzled to a stop.



“Damn it!” Buffy sighed, rubbing her elbow where she had bumped it against the door on impact.



She really didn’t know what to do now. Her cell phone didn’t work out on these country roads, so she couldn’t call for help and she was still too far away from her house to walk the rest of the way home, especially in these conditions. However, she couldn’t sit here forever either. Without the warmth of the heater, wearing only a thin sweater, Buffy knew that she would quickly freeze to death.



With a sigh she clambered out of the tiny car, screwing her eyes shut as the rain started to beat at her skin, and meandered along the road.



Then everything happened so fast.



Because of the noise of the rain, she wasn’t able to hear the approaching car, and it was only at the last minute that she spotted the bright beam of its lights and managed to jump out of the way.



However, when the driver had seen a figure standing in the road, he’d been convinced that he was going to hit it, and veered sharply off the road, coming to a stop as he careered into an embankment.



Buffy shrieked, a pang of guilt and concern rushing through her, and hurried over to the car in time to see the door swinging open and a black-clad form stumbling out. She breathed a profound sigh of relief that the person was okay.



When the figure whirled around, however, her breath caught in her throat and her heart sank.



“Spike!” She hissed through gritted teeth, wiping the rain from her eyes.



“Well, if it isn’t the little Princess.” Spike yelled angrily in response, straining to be heard through the din of the storm. “Are you bloody barmy? What the hell did you think you were doing running about the roads in the middle of a storm? Don’t they teach common sense in America?”



She glared at him, although the liquid hitting her face made it look more like a squint or nervous tic.



“A tree hit my car.” She announced haughtily.



“Sure you didn’t hit the tree, Princess? I wouldn’t be surprised if it was minding its own bloody business until you murdered it.” He sneered, before sighing, his posture slumping slightly. “Well we can’t take my car back to the village because someone made me run into a bloody embankment and now it’s dead. And mobiles don’t work around here. Seems like we’re stuck.”



“So what do you suggest we do, oh great one?” She asked her voice thick with irritated sarcasm.



“Can’t say that I really care what you bloody well do, but I’m going to find some shelter until this buggering storm passes.” He said smugly, before striding away.



Ugh, he was such a pain in the ass.



Setting off at a jog she followed him as fast as her little legs could carry her, not prepared to be left alone all night in the middle of a thunderstorm.



Since the first day she met Spike Pratt he’d been a thorn in her side. Not only was he her colleague at Giles’ surveillance company, but he was also her neighbor.



She wasn’t sure which annoyed her more.



It wasn’t even as if he’d been an amicable sort of colleague or neighbor.



He’d tried multiple times to get her fired from the job, claiming to Giles that nepotism wasn’t fair on the hard-working people who were employed by the company.



Only the fact that Giles had faith in his stepdaughter’s competency ensured that she was able to keep her position.



If that wasn’t bad enough, she couldn’t count the times that he’d kept her up all night playing cacophonous 1970’s punk rock that drove the blonde woman to distraction.



Buffy had complained to Giles and even to her mother but they both lectured her on how learning to deal with people you find difficult is part of becoming an adult.



Well she was twenty-six years old. She felt like she had the adult part down. It was just the pain-in-ass-removal that she still had to master.



Trailing a few feet behind Spike, she noticed the barn just off the side of the road only a few seconds after he did, and they ran toward it with a strange kind of excitement.



He heaved the old door open and stepped inside. Surprisingly he didn’t shut it in her face, but ushered her inside also before closing it.



At her unspoken question he shrugged.



“Can’t let you freeze to death out there.” He said almost shyly before reverting back to the arrogant demeanor she had come to know and loathe. “Giles would have my perfectly shaped arse on a platter if I did.”



“It stinks like animals in here.” She whined as the unwelcome stench invaded her nostrils and wrinkled her button nose in disgust.



Spike just shot a deathly glare at her that stunned her into silence and she knew it would be unwise to comment further, however tempting it was to provoke him.



Buffy rolled her eyes and slumped down onto a pile of hay, closing her eyes briefly. She felt so tired and being in the company of a man who had delighted in making her life hell for almost eight months didn’t exactly improve the situation.



When Spike piped up, Buffy did a double take.



“What?” She asked, not sure if she had just heard him correctly.



He looked irritated and hissed out a breath from between his teeth.



“I said that you need to strip.”



Buffy’s eyes widened and her gait stiffened.



Oh god…was he some kind of perverse sex fiend who drove down deserted roads during storms to pick up girls and use them for his own depraved ends?



When she saw him peel his own wet shirt off of his chiseled chest, revealing the sculpted abs that lay beneath she wondered if that would actually be so bad.



Sensing her discomfort, Spike threw his shirt down on the ground and sighed again.



“Your clothes are soaked through and it’s bloody freezing in this barn.” Spike clarified. “If you stay dressed then you’ll get pneumonia and probably die. But if your modesty is more important to you than the unimportant fact of staying alive, then be my bloody guest, Princess.” He said condescendingly.



Buffy scowled at the use of the mean nickname he had for her and considered her options. It was only when Spike had pointed it out that she realized just how soaked through she was. There was water dripping from every surface on her body and soaking into the hay bale under her butt. She really didn’t want to die of pneumonia and with a resigned huff she started to pull off her sweater.



She had just hooked her thumbs under the hem when she noticed that Spike was staring at her with a sleazy leer.



“Wanna turn around?” She asked him in a way that could only be taken as rhetorical.



He laughed richly but didn’t reply. Instead he spun around and began to wring the water out of his own shirt.



Blushing like a virginal schoolgirl, Buffy slowly peeled off her moist top and pants leaving her standing in just her flimsy blood-red bra and crimson lace panties.



Buffy shivered in the cool air of the barn, feeling goose bumps break out all over her chilly skin, and she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to suppress the shivers.



She felt more exposed than she ever had before and the sensation was exacerbated by the fact that Spike was still half dressed in his suit pants.



“Is this just a ploy to get me half naked?” She asked with an edge to her voice. Spike spun around, taking a moment to check out the nearly-nude young woman in front of him before tearing his eyes from her body.



“What are you on about now, woman?” He scratched the back of his neck in frustration.



“You! You: being all half-dressy and me: being pretty much with the naked.” She exclaimed.



He chuckled and approached her with slow predatory steps.



“Anxious to get a look at my goodies?” He asked, low and husky as he stopped only inches from her.



Buffy couldn’t help the blush that colored her cheeks but sneered with disgust to cover it.



Buffy looked him dead in the eyes. “Ugh, no! You wish! You’re disgusting, Spike! You’re the most…repulsive…sickening…abhorrent…repulsive…”



“You already said ‘repulsive’, pet.” He interjected, but she continued as if she hadn’t heard him.



“…objectionable…hateful…pervert that I’ve ever met in my life!”



“You’re off your bird.” Spike said with a hint of humor. “The reason I’m keeping my trousers on is that I don’t wear anything underneath. So unless you would prefer that I stand here stark bloody naked, then you might want to shut your gob.”



Buffy looked as if she was about to say something but instead she snapped her jaw closed and plopped back down on the bale of hay.



“I hate you.” She finally said petulantly.



He chuckled. “Feeling’s more than mutual, Princess.”



She grunted with irritation and stamped her foot down. “Why do you call me that?” She asked, annoyed.



“It’s what you are.” He responded as if it was more than obvious.



“I’m not a princess, Spike.” Buffy said, squeezing the water from her long blonde hair. “I really don’t get why you would even think that.”



He barked out a bitter laugh and whirled on her.



“The reason I think that you’re a princess is because you get everything handed to you on a bloody golden platter, love.” He could feel the fury boiling in his veins. Buffy Summers thought she was too good for the likes of him, and she’d made it clear since day one as far as he was concerned. So Spike believed he had a right to a little bit of resentment. “Some of us have to work for what we have, but you just swoop in because your mummy married the boss and act like you own the place.”



Buffy’s mouth gaped open as Spike continued his tirade, and she was about to interject with a disagreement, but the peroxide blond man was nowhere near finished.



“You just come in and take job without proving you’re halfway bloody competent.” He yelled pacing back and forth, shooting an angry glance in her direction. “And every day it’s the same. Here’s Buffy with her nose stuck up in the air, waltzing around in her tight pants and low cut tops and little skirts, with her stupid hair and annoying voice. Is your mission in life to drive me around the sodding bend?”



“You really are full of it, Spike. Not to mention totally and absolutely insane.” She snarked. “What makes you think you even figure into my life, period?”



“I don’t think I do, pet. In fact I don’t think anyone else figures into Buffy-World except for Buffy Summers and no one but Buffy Summers.” Spike didn’t even truly believe the torrent of words that was flowing from his mouth, but somehow he was powerless to stop it now.



“I’d rather be selfish than an arrogant asshole who gets his kicks from bullying girls. Is that why you’re thirty-four and single, Spike? Because no sane woman can stand to be around you? Oh, that’s right, office rumors tell me you did have a woman but she was ninety percent nuts and ten percent dumb.” Unleashing her own anger felt good and Buffy clenched her fists at her side, forgetting her state of undress as she argued with this insufferable man.



At Buffy’s mention of Spike’s less than sane ex-girlfriend, Spike felt the final threads of his control snap and growled menacingly, stalking closer to the girl, who, to her credit, didn’t flinch in the least.



“You can say what you want about me, bitch, but you’re a selfish bint who’s been lucky to have privileges in life. But in all honesty the only talent you have in your whole entire body is batting your eyelashes and wiggling your arse to manipulate people. Apparently even your…physical talents aren’t enough to keep your man satisfied though, are they, love?”



She turned away from him as she felt tears start to prickle at her eyes as the nerve was struck, recalling her ex-lover in the throes of passion with another female. But when Spike Pratt really got going then it was like an avalanche.



“Yeah, everyone at the office knows the truth about just what drove you away from the sunny shores of California, pet. I heard about the reason that you came here in the first place, and I’ve never laughed so bloody hard before. Apparently you’re not a keeper even when you spread those dimpled knees.”



In truth when Spike had heard the story about Buffy’s cheating ex-boyfriend, he had felt an irrational rush of fury at the man he had never even met. He told himself that it was because he had fallen victim to a cheating lover more than once, but somewhere in the depths of his soul, that excuse didn’t ring true.



“You couldn’t even keep a man happy, Princess, so you come running to mummy and daddy to take care of you.” Spike finished with a scoff.



Breathing hard, he stopped yelling and hearing soft sobs breaking through the quiet, he realized that Buffy was actually crying, although she had turned away from him to hide it. However, she couldn’t conceal the hearty shudders that rocked through her slender shoulders.



Feeling guilt hit him like a Mack Truck now that the haze of anger and resentment started to clear he approached her cautiously and laid a hand on her bare shoulder in the way of an apology.



Unfortunately that just served to incite her more and she violently shrugged off his hand, stumbling away from him. Before he even realized what she was doing, Buffy pulled on her damp pants and sweater and headed toward the barn door.



“What in the sodding hell do you think you’re doing, you loony chit?” He asked in disbelief as he watched her struggle with the heavy door.



She glanced back at him with her face contorted into a mask of anger.



“I’m leaving.” She said coldly.



“Off for a stroll in the brilliant weather, are you?”



“Listen, buster.” Buffy wiped her dusty palms on the front of her jeans and spun found to face him fully. “I’d rather get struck by lightning than spend another moment in your toxic company.”



Not waiting for him to reply, she turned away and strode over to the door, heaving it open with a show of extreme anger-fueled strength.



The second she passed the doorway, she was hit by a huge gale and struggled to stay upright. The rain pounded her in the face and she choked as she swallowed some of the rainwater. The gnawingly bitter cold was already eating through to her bones and she had only been out here for a few minutes.



However, she wasn’t about to go back in there with that asshole so she pressed forward, not even sure where she was actually going. Buffy jumped as the sky was illuminated with a sinister bolt of lightning.



She startled again as she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist, and in terror she lashed out, wriggling free of her attacker’s grip and stamping her foot down onto his. Buffy heard a muffled roar and stumbled forward into the dirty mud, gripping her arm as she landed heavily on it.



Panting hard she saw the attacker looming over her and it was only at the last moment that she registered that it was actually Spike.



He’d followed her out here into the storm?



She couldn’t understand why when he clearly despised her so much.



“Come back inside the bloody barn.” He shouted, spitting out a mouthful of rainwater and grabbing at her, pulling her back to her feet.



“I’m not going anywhere with you, assface.” She shrieked huffily, trying to free herself from the grip he had on her arms. “Just let me go!”



“I’m not going to let you wander about out here on a suicide mission, love.” He told her, water cascading down his anxious face and bare torso.



“You want me to come back in so you can get all insulty again.” She said defiantly.



“No!” He countered. “I won’t. I didn’t bloody well mean any of it anyway. You push my buttons harder than anyone else has ever done, love. I was being a sodding wanker and…I’m sorry.”



The last part was said in a near whisper and her eyes snapped up to his, searching them for the truth. When she saw no guile lurking in his baby blues, but only honesty and openness she was more than a little shocked. But the expression on his face seemed to contain something else, another emotion that she couldn’t identify.



This wasn’t the first time that she had seen Spike regarding her with this peculiar expression, but usually when she noticed it his face would morph into a sneer.



But now that look that could almost be mistaken for adoration was back and it really unnerved her.



Cautiously he tugged her a little closer, the rain hammering down on them, and gazed into her eyes. She felt the anger and annoyance at his mean comments start to fizzle and be replaced with a heat rising in her belly.



Buffy was paralyzed with shock as Spike ran a tender hand through her wet hair and almost against her will she found herself caught up in his beautiful cerulean gaze.



Like two polar magnets being pulled together with natural attraction they started to move toward each other. Spike craned his neck and lowered his mouth to her cherry lips, pausing when he was just a hair’s breadth away.



Just as their mouths opened to each other a loud crash of thunder split the heavens and they jumped away from each other, startled out of their trance.



Wordlessly they ran back in the direction of the barn, avoiding each other’s eyes as they entered their safe haven once again.



Buffy stripped off her clothes without any prompting from Spike this time, and he didn’t need to be told to turn away as she undressed.



However, both knew that outside, something had shifted between them. Buffy was baffled by the fact that Spike had almost kissed her and what puzzled her more was that she had almost let him.



Sure, he was hot in a dated punk kind of way, but he was also a first class bastard. Saying that, he did seem to express his worst aggression to her. To everyone else he was just grumpy and often objectionable but still bearable.



But there was no way on earth she actually wanted to kiss Spike Pratt…probably.



“You’re bleeding.” He said softly, cutting through her thoughts.



“Huh?”



“Your arm is bleeding.” He marched over and took her arm in a soft grip, caressing the skin around a nasty looking graze.



She realized she must have injured it when she fell outside. At least it didn’t look deep, and the torrents of rain had washed away any dirt from it.



Realizing that she no longer really felt much anger over his earlier comments to her, she actually wondered if maybe the rain had cleansed her of that too. Maybe, just maybe, there could be a clean slate on which they could start a new, better tale.



Buffy glanced up and was thrown once again by the look of worry on his face.



“It’s fine.” She reassured him, pulling it from his hand, suddenly aware that she was clothed only in underwear and he wore only a pair of thin pants.



His eyes caressed her gently, drinking in every gently curve of her petite frame. They lingered on the small swell of her breasts encased in a lace bra, her firm tan tummy, and her shapely thighs that framed a treasure he would love to taste.



For her part, Buffy couldn’t tear her gaze from the sensual muscles that bulged under the skin of his stomach and the swell of his biceps. He was not an overly large man, but his attitude had always made him seem even more imposing. Suddenly the self-confident smirk didn’t seem quite so irritating, but more alluring, and she bit her lip in an attempt to drive such thoughts from her head.



She had heard many times that couples could often be brought together due to the high tension of a traumatic situation like this, and obviously this insane pseudo-attraction to the annoying blond was merely as a result of stress.



Yes, it was just a side-effect of the trauma.



And that moisture in her panties was obviously just rainwater.



And she would keep reminding herself of that.



Forcing herself to sever her gaze, she made to turn away from him. However, before she could turn, he grasped her shoulder and pulled her to him, making her cry out in surprise.



Spike knew in that moment that this was his chance. All the months he’d denied himself, making the pair of them miserable had led to this moment. Before he could talk himself out of it, he leaned down and crushed his lips to hers, banding his muscular arms around her waist.



Buffy squeaked in shock as she felt his lips touch hers. She momentarily resisted, pushing at his chest, but it was like a spark of electricity passed between them as their skin came together and all rational thoughts, alongside her resistance, died a sudden death in her mind.



His large, strong hands came down to cup her panty-clad ass and he picked her up effortlessly, wordlessly urging her to wrap her legs around his slender waist.



He pushed her back against a wooden post and she grasped behind her to find purchase on the pole. The sound of Spike’s zipper being drawn down echoed loudly in the peace of the barn and Buffy gasped as his erection bounced free from the confines of his pants.



Spike flashed her a cocky smile as he saw the hunger on the girl’s face, running his fingers under the hem of the crotch of her soaked panties, drawing a moan from her.



It seemed as if arguments and adventure got this woman as hot as it did him when he ran his fingertips gently down her slit and found it sopping wet.



Spreading her legs a little wider, he positioned the weeping, purple tip of his engorged cock at her entrance, thrusting into her in one rough motion. He stilled for a moment, and rested his forehead against hers, feeling her warm wet breath coming out in little pants on his cheek.



Grabbing her ass more firmly he pulled back and began to thrust forward and backward experimentally, increasing the tempo as he felt the pressure start to build inside his belly.



In his chest his heart began to pound in time with hers, and both of them felt droplets of sweat running down their bodies in little rivulets.



Spike leaned forward and licked tiny droplets of sweat off Buffy’s neck, savoring the salty-sweet taste of her skin. He moved his teeth up to her ear lobe and grazed it softly feeling her inner muscles contract in pleasure at his ministrations.



Buffy could barely contain herself as Spike played her body like a well-tuned fiddle. She scraped her nails down his back, clutching at the firm swell of his ass, urging him to pump into her faster and harder. She threw her head back and howled her appreciation heavenward.



Spike whispered a garbled barrage of appreciative sweet-nothings into her ear, telling her how perfect and beautiful she was.



“You have the juiciest, most delectable pussy I’ve even known.” He gasped, nipping at the juncture of her neck and shoulder.



When she felt the torrent of pleasure swelling inside her, like a dam about to burst, an ear-splitting moan escaped her mouth, and she reached down to rub herself climbing higher and higher skyward.



They toppled over the edge together. It was like a blinding light and a deafening sound hit them at the same time, dulling all their senses except for the pleasure they could feel. They were one being with a heart that beat only for bliss. Only the sound of the thunder crashing in the sky outside partially covered their own thunderous cries of pleasure.



Spike felt his knees give out and their orgasms were still rolling over them as they tumbled to the ground, writhing together to milk the last droplets of pleasure from each other.



“Bloody hell, love! That’s the best shag I think I’ve ever had.” Spike exclaimed happily, still buried inside of her. “Up for another round, pet?”



Despite his vulgar language, Buffy couldn’t help but be flattered at his compliment and blushed. She giggled and nodded.



He wasn’t the only one who considered it the best sex of their life.



At Spike’s suggestion the duo crawled up into the hayloft, where the chill from the doorway didn’t reach them, and resumed kissing and fondling.



The first time had blunted the sharp edge of their desperation, although it had done nothing to dull their attraction.



Nevertheless, this time they were able to explore each other’s bodies more thoroughly.



Finally they tasted each other, savoring the sweetly unique flavor of their respective juices. With their eyes and hands and mouths they mapped each other’s bodies, memorizing the swells and falls of every single inch.



When they came together in a frenzy of passion once again, there was a new tenderness that formed between them. As they reached orgasm after orgasm together, their eyes locked and something intangible passed between them.



Eventually the pair were finally spent and collapsed together in exhaustion against the soft hay coating the floor of the hay loft, Buffy laying her head in the crook of Spike’s shoulder.



Buffy snuggled up to Spike’s side, devoid of the awkwardness she thought might have been present after fucking someone she hated. Running a hand through his peroxide locks, she couldn’t help but notice how cute they looked now that they had dried in a mass of curls.



“Why did you run outside after me earlier?” She suddenly asked, piercing the warm silence that had enveloped the barn like a comfortable cashmere sweater. She hadn’t really considered asking the question until now, but in the fuzzy peace of the aftermath of wonderful sex, it spilled from her lips.



“Dunno. Probably because I thought that if I let you get killed in a thunderstorm then Giles would sack me and I like that job.” He said before sighing with resignation. “Or I guess, maybe I like you enough that I didn’t want to see you sodding well die out there.”



He liked her?



Okay, he’d just spent the last several hours inside her, so maybe that was a stupid question.



But Buffy knew that you didn’t have to actually like someone to have sex with them.



“If you…like me, then I don’t understand why you’ve acted the way you have. Why did you torment me with your music even when I asked you to turn it down? Why did you try and convince Giles to fire me? Why have you acted like I was the black freaking plague since I arrived in England?” Buffy inquired with genuine confusion.



Spike looked down and sighed. He propped himself up on his elbow and caressed her cheek with an uncustomary tenderness, eliciting a smile from the girl as she subconsciously leaned in to his touch. For several long minutes he was silent, simply studying her, before he finally spoke.



“Because you always hurt the ones you love, pet.” His admission was so quiet that she wasn’t totally sure she had heard his words correctly.



Spike felt his own face flush crimson. Since the first day he’d met Buffy Summers, he’d felt an unearthly draw toward her, but she’d come across so stuck-up and detached that her behavior had immediately raised his hackles.



Pushing down the immediate physical reaction he’d felt to her, he’d set about systematically tormenting her over the past few months in an attempt to dampen his burgeoning feelings for her and prove to himself that there was nothing more in his heart than wild lust.



Of course that had led to an increase in her bitchiness and hostility toward him, but for some perverse reason that only made him hotter and harder in addition to exacerbating his anger and resentment toward the young blonde.



But tonight the tensions between them had finally reached boiling point and they bubbled over in a crazy frenzy of arguing followed by love-making. For him it had been a revelation and he knew now that the sentiments in his heart for this fiery woman went far beyond mere lust.



The admittance he had whispered to her only moments earlier was about as far as he was ready to go in declaring those feelings to Buffy right now.



She was about to probe further when he leaned down and caressed her lips with his, essentially stifling any further questions. Somehow, she suspected that was exactly his intention.



To be honest, she didn’t exactly mind him being evasive about his feelings right now. She wasn’t sure that she was ready to confront such a minefield.



As the night melted into day they continued to make passionate love, taking each other to unimaginable heights of ecstasy.



It was only when the rain finally ceased that they stopped their love-making and reluctantly dressed, both hesitant to leave this secluded little barn and the dream-world that it encapsulated.



However, all good things come to an end.



As they made their way out of the barn, they flashed each other a smile, the kind of smile that said everything you wanted to convey without using words.



The walk back took almost two hours but they made it in comfortable silence as the cool winter sun beamed down on them. Their newly formed connection transcended the need for the constant babble of conversation.



When they finally parted and Buffy walked toward her house, she briefly glanced over her shoulder and saw Spike watching her, the hunger still evident in his eyes.



She felt her insides flip-flop with the reminder of the passion that they had shared and wondered whether it was just a one-off or if it could really be more.



Spike was a rude, mean, arrogant, obnoxious and crude man.



But after last night, he had proved that he was her rude, mean, arrogant, obnoxious and crude man.



Not to mention he was the best lover she ever had.



Should she ask him in?



In that moment, she made a decision.



That night, for the first time since she moved into her cottage, Buffy wasn’t disturbed by the pounding racket of punk rock music.



However, the noise that Buffy and Spike made together in her cozy double bed might just have disturbed every other resident in the sleepy little village.



As dawn approached, they both fell asleep with contented smiles on their faces while the patter of rain resumed outside their window, lulling them both into peaceful slumbers.



Sometimes rainy days do have their advantages.