Chapter Ten

Buffy and Willow walked into Giles's apartment, sipping on their Big Gulps and talking about the latest stupid assignment from their Chemistry class. It took several minutes for them to notice that Giles was wearing his "serious business" face and their voices trailed off slowly. Buffy gave a sigh and pulled out a chair, setting her drink on the table as she sat down.

"Okay. What's with the apocalypse face? It's too early in the year for one of those. It isn't even Tuesday, for crap's sake! There's no reason for that face." When Giles didn't answer right away, she changed to a pleading whine. "Please tell me there's no reason for that face, Giles."

"Why haven't either one of you told me about the lingering effects from Willow's disastrous spell?" He waited impatiently while both girls' faces went through various expressions and shades of red before settling into an approximation of innocence.

"Effects?"

"Spell?"

"You," he said, pointing at Buffy, "should have told me immediately that you were feeling an unnatural attraction to Spike. And you," he turned to Willow, "You are not to try to fix this by yourself. You could do irreparable damage."

Buffy spoke up first. "Oh yeah, that would have been a fun conversation - oh, Giles, by the way, I think I want to sleep with Spike now. You don't mind, do you?"

"So, am I to understand that you preferred that I hear about from Spike?"

Buffy's response was to leap to her feet, pulling a stake from her waistband. "No problem, Giles. He's about to become a pile of horny dust." She had her hand on the doorknob when Giles and Willow's combined voices slowed her down.

"An understandable response, perhaps," Giles said when she turned around and gave him her reluctant attention. "However, he has been somewhat helpful to you lately and it seems to me that removing whatever lingering spell effects are there would be a more charitable and useful solution."

"Is that watcher-speak for I can't stake him?" Buffy's pout was exaggerated, but she returned to the room and sat down again.

"Would you really do that?" Willow looked disappointed, causing Buffy to drop her head against the back of the chair.

"I don't know. I think I could, but..." She raised her eyes to stare at her watcher. "I don't think I want to. Obviously there is something wrong with me. I mean, this is Spike we're talking about. You know, evil, soulless, wants to drink from my brainstem or some such crap..."

"I am not suggesting that you and he become best friends, and certainly not implying that you should act on these... feelings... that you both seem to be harboring. However, it has occurred to me that Spike's chip may have provided him with an opportunity to atone for some of his activities as a vampire. Just as Angel's soul has put him on a path of redemption, and has perhaps made him a Champion in the eyes of the Powers that Be..."

"Spike is nothing like Angel!!!!" Buffy's indignation on Angel's behalf was a solid presence in the room.

"I'm quite sure he would be the first one to agree with you," Giles said dryly. "I am not implying that he would take the same path; however, the fact that he has so quickly learned to control his bloodthirsty urges - without the assistance of a soul - suggests that he is not the average vampire and that there may be room there for adding another powerful warrior to the fight against evil."

"He is a pretty good fighter," Willow pointed out helpfully. "And I think he—" She cut herself off.

"He what?"

Willow gulped, giving Buffy a tremulous smile. "I think he maybe, really likes you. A little bit."

Buffy couldn't help giggling. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure he was liking me last night..."

Willow giggled too, then both girls saw the thunderous expression on Giles' face.

"But that was a spell! And bad. Very bad." Buffy nodded vigorously, joined by a very serious Willow.

"Badly bad. No question."

Rolling his eyes and reaching for his glasses, Giles sighed.

"The point I am trying to make here, is that with Angel gone..." he waited for Buffy's automatic flinch at the mention of Angel's name, surprised when she just nodded, "you could do worse than to have someone with Spike's skills on your side."

"Giles, he's not going to be all that helpful if we're spending all our energy trying to resist getting naked."

"Indeed." Giles coughed. "Willow and I are going to go over the spell she used and consider some possibilities for a counter spell. In the meantime..."

"Already got the memo, Giles. We both did. No Spike and Buffy alone time until you and Willow have fixed everything." Buffy stood up and took her drink with her as she started for the door again. "So, I'm just going to go patrol for a while and then I'll just go to bed. My bed. By myself. No sexy vampires invited."

Waving her good-bye, she went out the door, pulling it closed behind her.

Willow and Giles looked at each other and simultaneously reached for books and pencils with which to take notes.

~~~~~~~~

Buffy strolled along for a while, sipping at her drink and thinking about what Giles had said. She had to admit that the Spike she'd been spending time with since the "engagement" was very different from the vampire she'd thought she knew all about.

"Who knew that William was such a gentleman, or that Spike still remembered how to be one."

She thought about what Giles had suggested about Spike's possible path to redemption as a warrior for good. Like a whatchamacalit... hidalgo? Like Don Quixote? An old-timey knight like they'd learned about in Spanish class. She giggled to herself at the image of Spike on Rocinante, tilting at windmills, trying to rescue barmaids in distress and singing "The Impossible Dream".

She was still giggling when she noticed that she was in Restfield and walking toward the area Spike had said was his intended home. She picked up speed when she saw a truck parked outside a crypt and a clearly non-human carrying a heavy piece of furniture through the door. She slowed when she got close enough to hear Spike's voice.

"Ta, mate. That chest was going to be a bit much even for me."

"No problem, Spike. I'm happy to have it gone. The missus was thinking of someplace different to move it every other day it seemed like. I'm just glad the new place is too small for it."

"Works good here," Spike said. "Lots of room in this old place. Must have belonged to some important buggers."

"Well, I'll leave you to the decorating. Need to get back and start rearranging my own furniture five or six times until my wife makes up her mind."

"Thanks again, Herb. Don't work too hard."
Herb walked to the door just as Buffy was entering.

"Gah!"

"Ahhhhh!" he said with an umanly shriek. "Slayer, Spike! Slayer!"

"It's alright. The Slayer doesn't slay things that aren't dangerous to humans...isn't that right, pet?"

Buffy stared at the very, very large demon who stared back at her dubiously.

"Buffy?" Spike's voice brought her attention back to him. "He's harmless, luv. Just here doing me a favor."

Still not speaking, Buffy just gave a curt nod and sidled past the large body and into the crowded crypt. With a wave, Spike's friend left quickly. Buffy and Spike stood silently until they could no longer hear the sound of his truck.

"So," Buffy said, gazing around. "Whatcha doing?"

Spike began moving pieces of furniture farther into the large stone room, filling her in on where they came from as he did so. She watched for a while, then became bored and asked, "Do you want some help?"

He stared at her in shock for a few seconds, then shrugged. "Sure. If you'll just help me with that big chest Herb brought in..."
Between the two of them, they were able to move the large piece of furniture fairly easily, taking it all the way to the back of the crypt and putting it against the wall. They stood back and surveyed it with critical eyes.

"What do you think, pet? Good spot for it?"

"I guess. It kinda looks like... I don't know. Bedroom furniture?"

"There's no way we're getting that thing down to the bedroom," Spike scoffed. "I'll use it for a weapons' closet or something."

"Bedroom? Down to the bedroom?" Buffy stared around. "What is this? A vampire condo?"

Spike snorted. "This is an old crypt, pet. Been others here before me. Seems like some of them liked their comforts... and their privacy. Here, let me show you."

He moved the rug he'd thrown over the plywood hiding the entrance to the lower level and grabbed a candle from a table.

"Let me go first, pet. Ladder needs a little work and it's dark down there."

"Ya think?" Buffy said, peering over the edge into the inky space where Spike had disappeared. There was a thump as he leaned a ladder against the side of the opening and then a soft yellow light filled the space.

"Okay, Slayer. It's safe enough now."

As Buffy climbed carefully down the shaky ladder, she muttered, "You do know that using 'Slayer' and 'safe' in the same sentence is probably jinxing us for the rest of the night, right?"
A rich chuckle was his only response as he stepped away from where he'd been holding the ladder and watching her descend. Buffy stared around with wide eyes, taking in the rugs piled against one wall and the pieces of wood stacked in one corner of what appeared to be a huge open area. She could see a mattress and box springs leaning against another wall, and a small chest of drawers near the rugs.

"Whoa! That demon guy gave you all this?"

"No. No, most of this I picked up at the dump, or in front of some house where there'd been an eviction or a...." His voice trailed off as he recalled what often was the reason for a house going vacant.

"Or where vampires killed a whole family," Buffy finished for him, her voice flat and toneless.

"Or that," he agreed softly. He sighed as he watched her expression go from happily curious about his new home to grim and uncomfortable. "Buffy—"

She shook her head and forced a smile. "I'm fine. Giles keeps telling me, I can only do what I can do. I can't save everyone. I know that."

He glided up to her and stood inches away, trying to get her to look at him with eyes that went everywhere else in the room except his worried face.

"Look at me, luv," he insisted, hands clenched at his sides so that he wouldn't give in to the urge to touch her. When she finally dragged her eyes to his, he sighed in relief. "The watcher's right. You are probably the best slayer ever. But no one can expect you to get to every vamp in Sunnydale before they can kill. It's not humanly possible. Not on a Hellmouth where you've got so much else to deal with."

"I know," she repeated. "But whole families... little kids... I should be able to stop that."

"Doesn't happen very often, Slayer," he said. "If everybody in Sunnydale was that dumb, the town would be empty by now. Anybody who lets a stranger into their house after dark... well, that's just Mother Nature thinning the gene pool."

Buffy shook her head and snorted, "Way to put things in perspective, Spike." But the corners of her mouth twitched and he risked touching her cheek.

"Tell you what, pet. Instead of moving furniture, why don't we go out and see how many potential family killers we can find to slay? I'll even let you get first crack at them."

"You sure know how to sweet talk a girl," she said, brightening up right away and leaning just the tiniest bit into the hand still resting on her cheek.

"Know what this one likes," he whispered, sliding the hand around to the back of her neck and pulled her head towards the mouth he was lowering to hers. "Know just what she likes..."

"I promised Giles we wouldn't be alone together until he and Willow fixed whatever's wrong with us," she whimpered as his lips brushed across hers.

"So did I," he replied, between the brief kisses with which he was peppering her face and neck. "Makes us both liars, I reckon."

"Shouldn't this be getting weaker?" Buffy gasped as she tilted her head to give him access to her neck. "It should be wearing off by now, not getting... oooooh!"

"Don't know. Don't know what kind of spell it was...is" he mumbled around the soft skin he was sucking on over her carotid artery. "Know it's not getting weaker, though."

"Not getting any weaker," she agreed breathlessly, her hands sliding under his shirt to caress the skin on his back.

Spike's hands moved from her shoulders down to the waistband of her low-rise jeans, stroking the smooth skin over her stomach and eliciting a series of moans that made his cock even harder than it had been before he started touching her. He dropped his mouth from her neck to her stomach, kissing his way across and down, tickling her navel before allowing his tongue to slide under the waistband and caress her lower abdomen. Buffy's knees buckled and she fell back against the ladder, holding herself up with one arm. Spike fell to his knees and continued to kiss her stomach while he fumbled with the snap on her jeans, finally opening it and yanking the zipper down.

His mouth immediately dropped to her lace-covered mound, increasing her gasps and moans as she unconsciously thrust her hips forward. She buried her free hand in his hair, holding his head in place while he worried at the elastic of her panties until he'd pushed it out of his way and could put his mouth and tongue where they both wanted them. Buffy's attempts to open her legs wider were hampered by the jeans around her thighs and she whimpered in frustration as Spike growled his own desire for more access.

With a snarl that she tried to tell herself she shouldn't respond to the way she did, he stood up and grabbed her around the hips, carrying her to the pile of rugs and throwing her down. He threw himself on top of her, taking minutes to indulge in long lingering kisses before sliding down again to pull her shoes and jeans off. Beginning with one sock-covered foot, he kissed his way up her leg until he was back where he wanted to be. Using only his human teeth, he snapped the elastic on her panties and let them fall away while he pushed her legs apart and buried his face, inhaling the scent that had been driving him crazy every day since the spell.

Buffy arched up towards his mouth, mentally cringing with embarrassment at the thought of how it must look - her half-naked, a fully clothed Spike with his face in her crotch. Since the only way she could think of to change anything would have involved making Spike stop what he was doing to her, she quickly disregarded her mental image and gave in to the wonderful sensations he was creating - sensations that built until she was shuddering against him and whispering his name.

Through the pleasure-induced fog in which she was lying, she heard the distant sound of a zipper and the rustle of fabric, just before Spike covered her with his body and dropped his hips between her thighs. Growling the entire time, he thrust his way into her, waiting only a few seconds for her to get used to it before his hips began moving and he began babbling in her ear.

"Slayer...Buffy...Buffy... Knew you would feel... ah, like that, luv. Squeeze me, love, make me hurt. Let me feel you... ah, like warm silk, you are. Want you so bad ... need you to... Ah, there! There, Buffy. Make me... oh bloody... No one ever... never want to leave you... "

His constant motion had quickly brought her to the cusp of another orgasm, this one all the more powerful for being almost simultaneous with his shouted release as he drove into her so hard her head hit the dirt wall behind them. For long minutes after, they just lay panting unable to do more than breathe and, in Buffy's case, stare at the dirt ceiling.

When Spike finally rolled off her body, nuzzling her neck before he did and whispering something she chose not to hear clearly, she flushed all over as she glanced down. She lay with her bare legs sprawled apart, socks still on her feet, her shirt rucked up to her bra and her hair touching a wall of dirt. Beside her, Spike lay taking deep unnecessary breaths, his jeans pushed down and his spent cock draped to one side of a pale, muscular thigh.

"Oh my God," she said, her voice shaking. "What have we done?"