Author's note: Thank you for all the lovely reviews on the last chapter! *hugs*

Beta'd by brilliant dawnofme and Mabel Marsters.


Chapter 8


Buffy shifted, slowly stirring awake and groaned. Her head was pounding and felt entirely too big to belong to her. Unless she’d turned into some big-headed demon during the night. Her hand flew up to her hair and she sighed in relief.


'As normal as ever.'


Except she felt kind of… naked. A sheet brushed against her bare thighs, reaching to her lower back. Also, there was a very nice muscular chest beneath her cheek. The owner wriggled beneath her and Buffy glanced into Spike’s amused eyes.


“Seeing any frogs yet?”


“Huh?”


Buffy scrunched up her nose and rested her head against his chest once more. She wasn’t too shy to admit that her hand followed suit. He also seemed to have changed into his usual all black ensemble.


“How’s your back?”


Now that Spike mentioned it, she did feel a slight twinge of discomfort when she moved.


“What happened? The last ting I remember was…” The blurry images of the night before flooded her brain. How she’d woken up in her bed and nothing made sense except when she gazed into Spike’s eyes. Something about fairies and hearing Mr. Gordo talk--which admittedly wigged her out. Who would have thought her stuffed animal knew such coarse language? And calling Spike a ‘hot stud’? So not cool.


'Oh my God--the stuff I said! And I molested Spike! He’s never going to let me live it down. And why did he refuse my very willing self? Doesn’t he think I’m pretty?'


She sat up. Spike was staring up at her with a leer, and her eyes widened as she realized it wasn’t her face his eyes were fixed on.


“Spike!” Her hands flew up to cover her bare breasts as she glared at him.


“What? I’m a man, you know. Flash me your tits and I’m gonna look.”


“Well… there’s nothing to see, so if you would just hand me a t-shirt…”


Spike stretched out on the bed, folding his arms beneath his head as he ogled her. “And why would I do that? I’m not your lap dog, Slayer. I’m comfy here. Not feeling like moving right now. Plus, I’d say there’s plenty to see.”


“Ugh--you’re insufferable.” She pouted. “Come on… please?”


She couldn’t exactly rummage through her drawers without flashing him even more than she already had, and nor could she get to her dresser without Spike coming with her, thanks to the spell. He rolled his eyes and sat up. She suppressed a satisfied grin. Men were just too easy to manipulate. Undead or not.


“Eh… is there any chance you’re willing to forget what happened?” she asked.


“What, you mean how you thought I was a big piece of chocolate you wanted to take a nibble out of?” Spike grinned.


“Yup, that would be the one.”


Buffy followed Spike to her dresser, where he yanked open the drawer he knew her t-shirts and tops were in, then stopped. Glancing over his shoulder at Buffy’s too innocent expression told him he had just been played by her feminine wiles.


'Minx. I’ll show her.'


“Dunno. I think you’ll have to do more than that if you want me to keep mum about it…or to get dressed,” he said with a smirk.


“What? Do you want to get beaten?”


“I want… a kiss.”


“A kiss?” she asked dubiously, looking at him as if he’d suddenly spouted horns. “You know… I can just knock you out and take it. Problem solved.”


“You could, except… I kind of might have taken a photo of you in my arms, all snuggled up, comfy and very naked. What do you think Peaches would say about that?”


He didn’t really take a picture, but she didn’t need to know that, did she?


“Uhh… you are so dead, Spike!”


“So… about that kiss--”


“Clothes first.”


He handed her a top and turned his back so she could get dressed. Buffy glanced at the green top and slipped it on, sighing as the silk caressed her heated skin, and tied the strings at the back of her neck. Her back was bare and she wondered if Spike chose it so the fabric wouldn’t chafe her already closed cuts.


Convincing him she had to go to bathroom, Buffy now found herself side by side with Spike, both of them brushing their teeth and fighting over the sink. Her life couldn’t be stranger if she tried.


Buffy walked out of the bathroom, Spike in tow. She turned to face him, grasped his cheeks in her hands and pressed a swift barely there kiss onto Spike’s lips before he could say ‘bloody hell’. Even if it was brief, she could feel her lips tingle from the contact.


“That was not a kiss, pet. Has nobody taught you how to snog properly?”


“You didn’t say--”


The look in his eyes shut her up. The way Spike gazed at her from beneath his thick dark lashes made her back away unconsciously. He looked like he wanted to devour her.


Her back hit the wall, her heart pounded hard in her chest.


'Oh God, oh God.'


She couldn’t do anything but stand there, leaning against the wall, as Spike stepped so close his chest brushed hers. Did he have a thrall? His scent overwhelmed her senses as he circled her waist with his strong arms and nuzzled her cheek. It turned out the chocolate smell mixed with essence of pure masculinity wasn’t just a hallucination.


“Slayer,” he whispered into her ear. She should have come back to her senses and push him away. But the way he said it, the word slipping from his mouth like a prayer of devotion, was sultry and intimate. Like it was something to be treasured. Desired.


Her hands caressed their way up Spike’s chest and snaked around his neck. The small hairs at the nape tickled her fingertips.


Her eyes fell shut at the feel of his breath against her cheek. The concept of right and wrong flew right out of the window as Spike dragged his soft lips across hers. Tentatively at first, every slight brush stoking the fire in her veins, making her yearn for more. For him.


Then he sucked her lip into his mouth, lightly nibbling and sucking. Buffy lost every coherent thought. Her hold around his neck tightened as she returned his ministrations. The gasp Spike let out as she slid her tongue along the seam of his lips made her shiver. Tilting his head, Spike parted his mouth to let her in and deepen the kiss. She pressed the tip of her tongue against the roof of his mouth, his own darting out to slide against hers in a burst of ecstasy.


Spike’s left hand slipped from her lower back to her thigh, lifting her leg to wrap around his hips as he pressed the length of his body achingly close against hers. Buffy sharply inhaled as the fingers of his right hand stroked the bare skin of her back while the left one squeezed her buttock. The minty taste of him was fogging her mind. She’d never been kissed like this. Like she was his reason for existing, his every molecule and thought focused on the feel of her lips and tongue and teeth. It would be so easy to become an addict.


Just as they reluctantly parted, a bell rang somewhere in the distance, barely penetrating the harsh breaths echoing off their parted lips.


“I should get that,” she whispered and Spike groaned.


“We could pretend nobody’s home.”


She actually hesitated, but Spike had already dropped her leg. Not before having a last grope though.


The interruption might have been a good thing. At least Spike didn’t have the time to say something offensive and start a huge fight that would leave awkward silence and heavy tension in its wake. He did have the incredible ability to put his foot in his mouth. And what a mouth that was…


“Buffy? We going or not?”


“Huh? Oh… yeah.” She blushed at his smirk and they walked down the stairs.


Buffy opened the door and barely restrained herself from closing it shut again.


“Buffster. We come bearing sugary goodness.” Xander shook a box of doughnuts in demonstration as he and Anya entered the house. “What’s Spike doing here?” he asked as he finally noticed the vampire standing next to Buffy where he’d been obscured by the door.


“Oh… he’s… umm--”


“Did you two just have sex?” Anya asked as she peered at them. “You look very flushed, Buffy.”


“What? No! No sex… We’re both very sexless here—right, Spike?”


“Yeah, sexless. As the Slayer says.”


Xander ignored the conversation as he sat on the couch in the living room and munched on a doughnut. “So, how’s the summer going? Have you heard from Willow yet?”


“Actually yeah… remember that spell she cast? The repelling one?”


Anya arched her eyebrow at the way Spike fleetingly rested his hand at Buffy’s back as they sat down on the couch. Anya sat in the opposite armchair and watched the scene unfold. Something fishy was going on with those two.


“Oh no… did she screw it up again?” Xander asked. “I so don’t want to be a demon magnet again.”


“The bint glued us together,” Spike said.


“What?”


“Well obviously, she must have mispronounced a word and bound them together instead of repelling the demons from Giles’ bachelor apartment. Not that I’m surprised,” Anya stated.


“We have to break this spell. I don’t trust Junior here to keep his hands to himself. If he hadn’t been tied up back at my place, who knows what would have happened?” Xander stuffed his mouth full of another sugary treat as he glared at Spike.


“No way, you git. Wouldn’t bite you if I could. I don’t fancy getting diabetes.”


Anya nodded. “He does eat lot of unhealthy food, doesn’t he? I keep telling him it’s going to affect his stamina. He’s been huffing a lot when he’s the one on top lately. Getting all flushed but not in the good way, you know?”


“Yeah… humans.” Spike scoffed.


“About the spell… We called Willow, but she said she’d call back when she found someone able to teleport her here.” Buffy reached into the box and bit into a jelly-filled doughnut with a blissful sigh.


“Do you know when it might be?” Xander asked.


“Nope. Not a clue.”


“Maybe Anya and I could stay here-keep an eye on things.”


“It’s not really necessary. It’s not like Spike could hurt me.”


“Hey! I’m still evil.”


“Really not helping my point, Spike.”


Anya thought about telling them she could probably do the reversal spell herself, or at least find someone who could. Then again, it would take time and effort that she could spend on something else. It wasn’t like they’d pay her any money for her help. Or listen to her for that matter. Besides, Anya had the feeling it wouldn’t hurt them to have some time alone. A blind man could see the sparks flying between the two. Except Xander. As nicely shaped as he was, he had the uncanny ability to turn a blind eye to things.


“We should go. Leave you to your togetherness and unresolved sexual tension, even though I doubt that will last too long.” Anya stood up and glanced expectantly at Xander who was looking at Buffy and Spike with panic on his face. “Ahn! Please, don’t say things like that.”


“Anyway, I have an appointment for a Brazilian wax. I’m expecting many orgasms for my trouble today.”


Xander stood up with an eager grin on his face. “Brazilian? Really? Right… see you later, Buff.”


Buffy watched with amusement as the door slammed shut and then squirmed under Spike’s intense gaze.


“What about you, luv? Can I see your Brazilian wax?”


She gulped.


TBC

Author's note: What ever shall she do?? Will I let you find out? ;) Just teasing, you know I will.