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Chapter 6
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Buffy may have initiated the kiss, but Spike knew just what to do with such an invitation. They were so close it felt as though their bodies were melting into one and clothing was suddenly far too inhibiting. Spike deepened the kiss as he realized Buffy was not preparing to stake him good and proper. In fact, he was giving serious thought to how he’d like to stake Buffy.

This had to be a dream, except he had never imagined anything tasting as sweet as his Slayer’s lips. He remembered the kisses they had shared while under Willow’s spell soon after he had been chipped, but this kiss was so much more than he had even stored in his memories of that time. He had relived those hours many times, even before he realized he loved Buffy. This…this was so much more.

Her soft lips parted under his as he let his tongue glide over her bottom lip and slip inside her honeyed mouth. Her tongue met his and caressed it in welcome. She drew his tongue further into her mouth and began sucking on it gently, mimicking an act he had never dared even dream of experiencing with his Slayer--not and living to tell of it anyway. His already impossibly hard cock swelled further, putting the sewing skills of Mr. Levi Strauss to the test.
The zipper held, much to the sadness of his non-thinking smaller head.

Buffy pulled back, but not to break the embrace, merely to draw in a needed breath.

"God, Buffy, love, what you do to me," Spike whispered into her neck as he drew in ragged breaths himself. "We really, really need to either move this somewhere else or stop now or else the demon population’s gonna get quite a show." A large part of Spike’s brain was busy giving the rest of him hell for even suggesting an end to this lovely interlude. His inner William, however, congratulated him for putting Buffy’s feelings ahead of his own desires.

Buffy was still panting as if she had run a marathon. Her eyes were glazed over with lust. The only thoughts she had were ‘more Spike.’ His words began to filter into her running mantra of desire, breaking the spell.

"You okay, pet? Didn’t mean to maul you. You know how I feel bout you. It was just…well…havin’ you in my arms like that was just too much." Spike was taking full responsibility for the kiss and grope fest. "I’d say I’m only human, but I guess I can’t use that line, eh?"

"Huh?" Buffy was still on the road to Happy Land and unable to process what Spike was saying. "Wait a minute! Are you saying you’re sorry for kissing me? You jerk!" Buffy threw out a fist and felt Spike’s nose break when it connected.

"OW, you miserable bitch! Here I am tryin’ to take all the responsibility and you go and break my nose. What’s the matter with you anyway, Slayer? First you smell like my best wet dream, make me so hard I can’t even walk, let alone think straight, then you fall into my arms and start snoggin’ me like the world’s coming to an end then you finish it all off by trying to rearrange my face! Have you gone barmy?" Spike was holding the bridge of his bleeding nose trying to stem the flow.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow!" He complained loudly while trying to straighten his poor abused nose so it would heal up straight. "Why is it always my nose with you? I’m
gonna wind up lookin’ like bloody Mike Tyson if I keep chasin’ after you."

"God, Spike, I’m sorry! I really didn’t mean to break your nose. I overreacted. It’s just that we were all… you know … and then you were … well … you seemed like you were wishing we hadn’t kissed and I just lost it." Buffy stammered out an attempt at an apology.

"Why would I be wishing we hadn’t kissed? Are you daft? I love you, remember? Chains, speeches, offers to stake my sire … any of that craziness ring a bell for you? I had to move out of the best place I’ve ever lived because I couldn’t sleep for wanting you. I wake up thinking about you, spend my waking hours thinking about you, go to sleep thinking about you and then dream about you all night. You’ve ruined me, Buffy. I’m not good for anything but loving you anymore. To think for one minute that I would wish we hadn’t kissed is the silliest thing I’ve ever heard in my very long life."

Buffy stared at Spike as he ranted such sweet words at her. She had to admit she loved hearing he still felt that way about her. It was even nicer not being chained up while he said them. Maybe one day he wouldn’t be shouting them when he did.

"Then maybe we could try that again with a bit more time-outs for oxygen and a little less violence and yelling?" Buffy smiled at Spike’s shocked look.

~~~

The large, muscular demon in leather and chains gave a deep and ominous laugh in response to the reports he was hearing from Sunnydale. A group of vampires there were claiming that the Slayer was really a robot, a toy.

"What in the name of all evil makes you tell such crap?" Mag demanded. "This Slayer may fight harder than any before her, but she’s no machine. I’ve seen her bleed."

"No really! It’s true! Last spring Wally here saw her fighting this hellgod called Glory and her head got knocked off. There were sparks and wires and everything. Hell, even the goddess asked if anyone else had figured out the Slayer was a machine," the small, acne-covered vampire insisted.

"So why are you just now spreading the word, vampire?" Mag’s lieutenant, Razor, asked the terrified undead.

"Wally and me just ran. I mean all kinds of weird shit was happening and some terminator Slayer was one weird thing too many, ya know what I mean?"

"Well, looks like something’s worth checking out at the Hellmouth, boys. I say we ride!" Mag ordered the actual hell’s angels to their hogs and let out a war cry. "Gonna be a new sheriff in town by tonight."

"Yeah, boss, and I’ll be your deputy," offered Razor.

"If I hear any of you rejects singing a chorus of ‘I Shot the Sheriff’, I’ll rip out your vocal chords. Move out!" Mag always wanted to trash and rule a Hellmouth. With a fake Slayer in charge of protecting the innocents, his time had finally come.