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~*~



”Oh God—Spike—pleeeeease….” Buffy moaned, gripping his thighs. “Just—a little—more—“

Spike grinned fiercely, his hands on her back, bringing her down upon his cock again and again. “Can’t take it all, little girl?”

She shot him a wicked look at that, one made even more naughty by the fact that her red bra was still on and her mini skirt was pushed up around her waist. “Oh, I can take it all,” she said, deliberately squeezing her already tight muscles around his shaft and fiddling with the straps of her bra. It fell open to reveal two small, ripe breasts, plump nipples begging to be touched, a task she immediately began working at. “Can you?”

He didn’t bother answering; he doubted he could have. Seeing her rolling her nipples in her little fingers, feeling her muscles fluttering around him, hearing her voice thickened by lust—it was all enough to undo him.

“Shit—Buffy—oh shiiiiiiit….”

He let go of everything, all vestiges of sense that told him the angel sitting on his dick shouldn’t be there, and came inside her, panting her name over and over again as she screamed above him. When she slumped onto his chest and he wrapped his arms around her, he could feel both their hearts thumping—and knew that he’d never done anything in his life quite this right.

Spike woke gasping, covered in sweat. Beneath him he could feel the cool stickiness that told him he’d just spilled it all over the motel sheets.

He sat up with a groan, his dream coming back to him. Wanker, wanker, wanker… He’d had dreams like this before, ‘f course, but tomorrow he was gonna have to show up at that party and give his girl some spiel about how he was just her friend. XXX-rated dreams were gonna make that a little harder…

He looked at his clock; it was 4 AM. Somehow, he didn’t think he’d be able to get back to sleep after this.

Grumbling under his breath, he went to take a cold shower.

~*~

She couldn’t do things the easy way, could she? She couldn’t have just given him some phony line about how they could just be friends. No, instead she had to give him an ultimatum that had seemed like a good idea at the time, before she realized that she’d have to wait a full day before she knew what was going to happen.

Now, the morning after she’d given him her ultimatum, she was sitting on the stairs, fielding questions from Doyle about Spike and her mother’s Nazi-like decorating orders.

“C’mon, would it really kill ye to give me a few details? You disappeared into a small room with a sexy older guy for ten minutes!” Doyle exclaimed.

Buffy raised an eyebrow at him. “Sexy? I was under the impression you were straight.”

“I am, but I also have eyes” he shot back. “Confess, Blondie. What happened?”

Blondie. Spike had called her that…to her shame, Buffy felt her eyes fill with tears.

“Buffy? Buffy, what’d I do? C’mon, snap out of it!”

“Sorry,” she whimpered, wiping her nose. “I just—“

“What?”

From anyone else it would have seemed abrasive, but Buffy knew that he was just trying to let her know that he was concerned. “Spike—my best friend?”

“The one you were in a small room with for a ten minutes.”

Why did she have to blush now? “Um, yeah,” she mumbled, “That one. Well, he used to call me Blondie, and we’re kinda…on the outs…right now.”

Doyle sighed. “And why do I get the feeling you’re really not telling me the whole story here?”

“Because I’m not,” she said honestly. “But Doyle, the whole story is between me and Spike.”

“Because he could get arrested if I knew? Jesus, Buffy.” He shook his head.

“Doyle! It’s not like that!”

“Then can you tell me what it is like?” he said a bit more quietly. “Buffy, I’m not gonna judge ye and I’m not gonna get mad, I just want to know what the hell is going on.”

She smiled at him. “You sound really silly when you get all accent-ey,” she informed him.

“Come on, Buffy. You know you can trust me.”

“Said the untrustworthy Irish uncle,” Buffy said with a halfhearted grin.

“Hey! Don’t go insulting the Irish. We don’t take too kindly to it.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Do you want the whole story or not?”

“Do you honestly think I’d have been over here buggin’ you for so long if I didn’t want to hear the whole thing?”

Buffy figured rolling her eyes again wouldn’t accomplish anything, so instead she just caved and told him the whole thing—from her friendship with Spike, which he already knew a bit about, to the kiss they’d shared. The only thing she left out was her porn-tastic dream about him…Doyle may have been her two-years-older uncle, but she really wasn’t ready to let him know about the inner workings of her (incredibly twisted) mind.

When she finally finished she just sat still, waiting for him to talk. After he was silent for a few minutes she said, “Well?”

Doyle sighed. “Honestly? I don’t see what the big deal is. You both are being drama queens.”

“What? Doyle, he’s my best friend! And he’s ten years older than me!”

“Say it a little louder, I don’t think people in China heard,” Doyle shot back. “Really, though, it’s not the soap opera you’re makin’ it out to be. He’s your best friend. Why are you freakin’ out about this?”

“Reasons that could fill an entire encyclopedia,” she hissed. “If we ever got serious, he could be jailbait!”

“Not if you hold off for a year and a few days,” Doyle pointed out. “If you love him as much as you say you do, it shouldn’t be hard.”

Love him? “Doyle, I never said I was in love with Spike.” I just thought it and wanted to tell him and cried because I was, that’s all.

“Oh, please.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m not that dumb, Buffy. You don’t have to scream it from the rooftops for me to know.”

“But—“ She couldn’t explain it. Somehow, up until now, some small part of her had been denying everything that had happened over the past few days. Having her uncle (who for all his immature jokeyness was way wiser than her) toss the word in her face suddenly changed things.

Okay. So, things had been changing at a truly scary pace for awhile now. But love was, in a way, bigger than wet dreams, bigger than clandestine kisses—bigger, even, than Spike saying that he loved her.

When she realized Doyle was still looking at her expectantly, she glanced down at her lap and mumbled, “I don’t love him.”

“Right,” Doyle said sarcastically. “And next you’ll be tellin’ me that the moon is made of cheese. You never were that great a liar, Buffy.”

Well, okay, he had a point. “Fine. I—I love him.”

Doyle crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Say ‘I love Spike’. Or, better yet, ‘I’m in love with Spike’.”

She glared at him. “What are you, my shrink?”

“It’s not like anyone else will be. Say it.”

“Asshole.”

“I’ll tell Joyce.”

“Oh, fine,” she relented, secretly trying to think up ways to kill Doyle very, very dead. “I’m—I’m—“ Wow, this was hard. “I’minlovewithSpike.”

“If I was your shrink I’d make you say it again,” Doyle said cheerfully.

Buffy barely heard him. Her entire attention was focused on what she’d just said. I’m in love with Spike. As in, head over heels, want him like I want to breathe, could easily see myself getting married to him in love.Holy shit!

She’d never been more scared in her life.

Apparently Doyle was a little more perceptive than she gave him credit for, because he looked closely at her and said, “Hey, if you want to go for a walk or whatever, I can cover for you.”

“Really?” In her hyper-emotional state she felt incredibly grateful, jumping up and hugging him. “Thanks, Doyle. You’re the best.”

“No problem,” he said, and watched her fly out the door, shaking his head.

“Some people are just insane,” he remarked to himself as he climbed the stairs to his original destination—his room. His girlfriend was waiting for him to call—and if there’s one girl in the world who lacks any amount of patience, it’s Cordy.

~*~

A/N: Thanks so, so much for the reviews...I'm a day late, I know...you guys probably don't care, but I just started a job and got put in an AP class where I have to make up two months of work, which basically means I'm really, really busy....so last chapter's reviews really made me feel a ton better =) Now...*puts on Review Whore hat* Think I could get more? Please?





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