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Spike was beyond scratching his head by the time they made it to the park. Buffy handed him her Styrofoam cup and set about spreading out his duster on the grass, though she still kept them under the shade of a tree. She took her cup back and nudged him toward their makeshift blanket with an encouraging shoulder. When he was sprawled out all comfy in a way she could only imagine Spike would be, she plopped down beside him and had a good look. An appraising look. A hot hungry look that ended at his chest, too scared and embarrassed to venture any further just yet.

“Hey, I have a swell idea. Why don’t you ditch the tee and see if you do freckle? It could be like an experiment.”

Spike jumped back from her, eyes narrowing as she pouted at him in disappointment.

“Let me get this straight. You want me to take off my shirt?” His muscles bulged as her eyes watched every minute movement, body tensing as she swept over him and left him burning from something other than the sun.

She nodded her head enthusiastically, her smile once again almost blinding.

“Right. Off it bloody well goes then.” He said the last under his breath as he dragged it over his head. Confused why he was giving in, beyond mystified why he was even being civil with his enemy let alone sharing his duster with her as well as a cup of coffee.

Shirt off, he flexed his muscles experimentally, then leaned back on his elbows. He could almost hear the drool as it dropped from Buffy’s lip. Spike’s first genuine smirk broke out on his lips as he watched her fascinated response to his chiseled chest and arms.

“Slayer, this is the weirdest bloody experience I’ve ever had, you know that, right?”

She giggled, a high-pitched overly girly sound that should have had him cringing against it even as he lunged for her throat. Instead, he raised his cup and sipped at the coffee; watched her as her eyes were peeled to the ripple of his muscles as he moved.

“So, have you ever thought of not eating people?”

His mouthful of coffee went spewing across his duster and speckled Buffy’s face and floaty lavender top.

“What the bleeding hell are you about, Slayer?”

“Spike! You ruined my shirt. And you made me all sticky.”

“Sorry, pet. You took me a bit—“ He stopped in his tracks and went over the words he’d just been about to say and the ones that the Slayer had already hit him with. He ended up sputtering. “Now hold on a bleeding minute. What the hell is your game?”

Her smile was really beginning to creep him out.

“No games. I just got to thinking after we met up at the party the other night that we really never got the chance to talk in the past. All our problems would probably be completely resolved if we just sat down and had a bit of a conversation.”

“Didn’t we try that? You know, with the whole saving the world and all?” An inquisitive little twitch settled in the skin between his brows.

Buffy screwed up her nose as she concentrated on her memories of that night. “I really don’t remember the conversation part of that whole ordeal. Was that the bit where you were telling me about your philosophy on humans as happy meals on legs? Or when you were promising to take your ho of a girlfriend out of the country?”

“Ah,” he said, waggling a finger at her as he smirked knowingly. “There’s the snarky Slayer we all know and lo…love to hate.” He didn’t even seem to pick up on the insult to Drusilla, focusing more on the return of the normal Slayer routine, and his very odd almost slip of the tongue.

Buffy caught the slip and the power of her smile could have lit the city. She shuffled a little closer, picked up his discarded tee and wiped the coffee residue from her face as best she could, took a sip from her own coffee, then looked up and for the first time noticed the clean, clear sparkle of his gorgeous blue eyes.

“Yummm…” Buffy mumbled, completely becoming lost in the Spike-specific images of her uber long dream.

Spike spluttered over his coffee again. “What?”

“Yummy coffee,” Buffy told him as she held up her cup. “All with the caffeiny goodness.”

He began to relax in the sun when she wiggled even closer, her bent knees now lightly nudging his hip.

“Not that the company isn’t totally droolworthy,” was the only warning he got before her lips were on his, driving several nails into his belief that she’d fallen out of a tree onto her head. Then all thought disappeared as the heat of her tongue and saliva met with his and he was completely mesmerised.

She opened her mouth to him while winding an arm around his neck, her body shifting so that she was almost draped over him. “Mmmmmm,” she moaned as her lips swept over his, her eyes closed as she thoroughly gave herself over to the power of his mouth. She had almost climbed fully in his lap when he twisted and had her beneath him, his hand at her waist as his lips nibbled and sucked at hers.

She squirmed beneath him until he used his pelvis to hold her flat on the ground, another moan filtering into his mouth as she sucked in her belly, preparing and encouraging his hand to move over her skin. He ducked under the fabric and his cool fingers found scorching skin. Instead of springing him back to his senses, it almost fused their skin together. Her head rested in the crook of his arm, her hair tickling his forearm. His touch stoked a fire up the trail to her ribs and she suddenly arched desperately against him, her hand holding his head hard to her mouth as the other stroked the bare skin of his back.

“Holy Moley, Batman. What in the land of freak are you doing, Buff?”

The pair flew apart, Spike jumping to his feet and swiping his duster out from beneath the Slayer, the speed of its removal causing her to spin a little as she rolled onto the grass. She jumped gracefully to her feet and pounced, bringing Spike to the ground in a mess of limbs and duster. She jerked him over, looked deep in his eyes and hoped he got the remorse behind her actions.

“Be safe,” she whispered against his lips, kissing him again briefly even as she slid the ring from his finger. Even under the shade of the tree he started to smoke and she pushed him to the nearest sewer access tunnel as he wrestled with his duster to cover as much of his body as he could—infuriated curses thrown over his shoulder as he sprinted.

He jumped down in a flap of leather and an aggravated growl, but not before seeing the strange expression of longing the Slayer bestowed on him.

Buffy had a mixed smile on her lips when she turned back to her friend. She couldn’t decide between feeling sadness that her discovery time had been interrupted or happy that she’d gotten to try out Spike’s lips and find out that for sure her mammoth dream had been steeped rather deeply in reality.

As she took in the horrified gaping and gasping for breath as Xander struggled for words, Buffy felt like skipping. It was real. For some reason the Powers or someone had given her an intense peek at her life so she could alter, fix her mistakes and change her reactions and/or behaviours. She could save lives, save relationships, save herself and God, she could consume herself with enormous potential love.

Buffy grinned as she took on the responsibility, grasped the understanding and decided on action. She was destined to be with Spike, and she knew he came to her. True, it took some major metalwork in his head, but things would be A-OK in the long run. And it would be best if she began laying the groundwork right now. From what she saw, Xander and Giles were her biggest detractors in her future. Her mom liked Spike, Dawn liked Spike…Buffy stopped and frowned before pushing that little nugget of information aside for another time.

“Hey Xan, whatcha up to?”

“Not making with the sexy vampire lovin’ under the bright shiny sun, that’s for sure.”

Buffy melted with the visual, unable to dim her euphoric smile even though she knew Spike was going to be furious with her for stealing his ring. Oops, hope he doesn’t go and torture Angel thinking I’d send it to him, Buffy nervously thought as her fingers caressed the cool surface of the ring.

“Really sorry to hear that, Xan. Was quite an experience.” Buffy picked up the discarded coffee containers and took them to the nearby trashcan.

“Hey, what’s going on? You have that freaky dream that lasts half a week and now you’re macking on the undead. What gives?”

Bufy contemplated the quiet fury in her friend’s blackened eyes and sighed.

“Look, I’ll explain it all at Giles’ later okay? I have to go to my final class then I’ll come by.”

Without giving him a chance to nod or protest she was striding off, plans and organizing going on at a rapid pace in her brain. She had a vampire to tame.




A/N...I am so grateful for all my wonderful reviewers. I'm on holiday with my family right now so can't write you thanks individually, but I hope you all enjoy this chapter too.





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