“What do *you* think I’m gonna say, love?” the blonde, blind vampire drawled seductively, leaving no doubt as to what his answer would be.

Buffy was very glad at that moment that Spike’s eyes were covered; the brilliant smile that he gave her, the one that always sent a warm, pleasant little shiver down her spine, even when she tried to ignore it -- the low note of desire in his voice, awakening something in her that she reminded herself, with a bit less conviction, that she would never allow to be fulfilled again after this night -- were enough to make her have second thoughts about this little plan of hers and consider making this just another night for them – though at this point it could not help but turn out to be a very interesting one, either way.

Could she *really* give this up? *Forever*?

Yes, she was very grateful for the blindfold.

The lust she could only imagine in those crystal blue eyes would have certainly been the undoing of her resolve.

*No,* she told herself firmly. *You’ve taken it this far. Follow through, Buffy! You have to end this, once and for all!*

Besides – she knew that if she did what she was about to do, *without* ending this inevitably disastrous affair, she would be crossing a line that she knew she was not willing to cross. She was about to make this more personal than she had ever before allowed it to become.

She was about to bring Spike into her home – into her very room.

Spike had been in her house many times before, and had a standing invitation that had been open since the night they had faced Glory, when she had subconsciously known, she thought, what was going to happen – and had wordlessly granted her forgiveness for past sins.

He had earned it, with his own blood.

He knew the house well, having stayed there many nights with Dawn while she had been gone. And she knew – if the word of a lying, cheating, vampire-whore-visiting creep like Riley could be trusted at all -- that he had even been in her bedroom once or twice when she had not been home.

But it had been a very long time since Buffy had allowed Spike to be in her house. Since she had initiated this pseudo-relationship that they were engaged in, her treatment of Spike in front of her friends had become worse than it had ever been, she admitted. The friendship that they had barely begun had been cast aside in the interest of her image in the eyes of her friends.

She realized that she was over-compensating, treating him with contempt and hostility, because she was afraid that her friends might guess the truth – and she knew that it was not fair to him.

He had looked after and comforted her little sister in her absence – and now she herself could hardly look at the girl, let alone give her the love she needed.

He had endured unspeakable torture for her and Dawn – and now she tortured his heart every night to punish him for it.

“You’re beneath me,” she had told him – yet she knew that he deserved better than the meager affection that she had left to give.

*I’m doing this for his own good,* she reminded herself defensively as she led him toward her front door. *He’ll be happier without me constantly using him, jerking his heart back and forth all the time – he can find someone else – some vampire girl who will love him like he is – because *I* sure can’t!*

*I’m not sure I can love at all anymore…*

*I am so unbelievably screwed up.”

“Just checkin’,” Buffy said in a light, teasing voice. “Cause if you’re gonna back out – now’s the time.”

“Not backin’ out, love – lead the way.”

Buffy’s troublesome thoughts continued to circle through her very confused mind, but her demeanor remained unchanged as she led Spike up the porch steps, guiding him carefully so that he would not fall, her arm draped low around his hips in a comfortable yet provocative way.

The vampire was almost unbearably aroused by this point, she knew – and she was glad, because although he was incredibly perceptive, the almost painful-looking erection he was currently sporting should be enough of a distraction to keep him from noticing if anything was amiss.

“All right, love – what’s wrong?”

Damn.

“Nothing’s wrong, Spike,” she purred, turning to face him as they reached the doorway, sidling in closer to him and edging her hand lower to press him against her harder. “Nothing we can’t fix *real* fast!”

She could tell she was accomplishing her goal – quite literally driving him to distraction – by the soft gasp that left his lips as she slowly swiveled her hips once, keeping her body pressed close against him.

He could hardly form a coherent thought, with the way she was touching him, driving him slowly to a greater intensity of need – but he knew that something wasn’t right. There was something – hovering on the edges of his consciousness – some detail he was missing…

*There’s a lot you’re missing, mate, you’re bloody blindfolded!* he reminded himself, sarcastically mocking his own thoughts – as well as his foolishness to allow himself to be placed in this situation.

What was wrong? What was she thinking about, that had her upset? Because he knew that she was.

“Buffy,” his voice came out in a low moan, though he was struggling to regain some measure of control. “Love – wait…something’s…”

“Come on, Baby,” she pouted slightly. “Just let it go, everything’s find. Let’s just go inside.”

*Baby.*

That was it. She never called him that – or any other sweet little endearment, for that matter. She always called him by his name, if she called him anything at all – and she was never this soft and affectionate in the way that she touched him. She usually seemed to resent the fact that she was coming to him at all, and often seemed to be trying to punish him for it with her caustic words and rough affections.

So why the sudden, affectionate words – the gentle, considerate behavior that she *never* showed him?

Someone was trying too hard.

But to do *what*, exactly?

“Unless you’ve changed your mind,” Buffy went on, her voice sly and slightly mocking.

It was annoyingly clear that she still expected him to back out at any moment.

“Not at all, pet,” he assured her with a calm confidence that he knew would drive her insane, his mind racing as he tried to figure out her game. “Don’t you have to…invite me in…like you said?” There was a slightly taunting sound to his even, pointed words, as he added, “Unless of course I already have an invitation.”

Buffy might have thought she was being all secretive and mysterious, not telling him where they were going – but he had known the moment they had reached the porch exactly where they were – had suspected it before that – and that knowledge actually strengthened his confidence regarding whatever was about to happen between them.

Buffy might have thought that holding this little test on her home ground, so to speak, would give her an edge, throw him off his game – but she had no idea how much like home this house had come to feel for Spike during the long months of her absence.

She was quiet for a long moment, and he could picture the dry little expression of irritation she was surely wearing, as she glared at him, surprised and annoyed that he had figured it out.

“You do,” she admitted, confirming what he already knew. “But when I do this spell – you’ll need an invite to come in, and you’ll need an invite, so to speak, to leave, too. It’s a barrier spell for any creature of supernatural origin. Who doesn’t…already…happen to live here,” she added as an afterthought, and he saw in his mind that adorable little frown as she realized that technically, she fell into the “supernatural” category herself.

“Well, go right ahead, love. I’m not afraid.”

He clearly heard the stifled sigh that passed the Slayer’s lips as she turned away from him slightly to face the door, and spoke a few Latin words in an offhand, casual sort of way.

He felt her arm slowly removed from around him, as she opened the door and stepped through. Automatically he moved to follow her – and sure enough, was stopped by the barrier she had described.

She laughed softly at the petulant little frown that came over Spike’s face.

“ ‘S not funny, love,” he said, sounding slightly offended. “Let me in.” He had not expected the sudden sense of hurt and insecurity that came over him at finding himself once again “locked out” of Buffy’s house – even if it *was* only for a few moments.

Buffy felt a slight pang of guilt and sympathy, remembering the look on his face that night, almost two years ago, when she had left him behind on her porch after his catastrophic attempt to profess his love for her – that look of hurt and betrayal and disbelief at being irrevocably, permanently shut out of her home.

Except – it had not turned out to be so permanent, after all. She *had* revoked the removal of his invitation.

But the look on his face now, even without the pain she knew would be in his eyes, said that at the moment, he felt as if she never had.

“Okay,” she said in a teasingly warning tone, concealing the fact that she had seen the painful feelings the barrier had refreshed in him. “but this is your last chance to back out of this.” She took a deep breath before speaking slowly and deliberately. “Come in, Spike – if you dare.” The last was spoken with over-dramatic amusement.

Just as deliberately, he immediately stepped over the now barrier-free threshold and into the foyer beside her – breathing out a sigh of relief, his expression lightening the moment he realized that she was not going to keep him out.

He could feel her heat beside him, could hear the pounding of her heart that belied her calm, cool demeanor. She was either nervous, or upset – or wanting him every bit as desperately as he wanted her.

He reached out for her blindly, yet accurately reaching toward her – and she ducked quickly out of reach, giggling mischievously. When he moved toward the source of the sound, she was gone again, before he could touch her.

“Hey, now,” he chided her, taking another step or two in the general direction she had been, his lower lip jutting out in a pout that he happened to know she found irresistible. “No fair, love…don’t you know it’s not nice to make fun of disabled vam..”

His words were cut off as he was suddenly grabbed from behind, spun around and pushed forward against the wall. He braced himself for the impact, trying to regain his bearings – but again, was surprised when the Slayer was careful not to hurt him, one arm around his shoulders holding him back slightly so that he did not hit too hard against the wall.

He opened his mouth to call her on it, to ask her again about her unsettlingly strange behavior – but rational thought was driven from his mind as Buffy’s small, warm hand closed over his covered erection, squeezing slightly and making him groan at the pleasure bordering on pain of her strong touch.

“Now you’ve done it,” she whispered in his ear, in a tone of playfully dangerous seduction, as her hand stroked slowly but firmly down the length of his aching, swollen member through the restricting barrier of his jeans. “You’ve walked right into the Slayer’s trap, you big, bad vampire! And now you’re *all mine*!”

Spike let out a gasp as she increased the pressure of her hand slightly, before releasing her hold long enough to turn him around to face her – though it didn’t do him any good, as he still could not see her, and only gave her better access to his body, already begging for her touch.

“Good,” he managed to get the word out in a breathless whisper, his full lips turning up in a wicked smile of satisfaction as he added teasingly, “then my evil scheme worked!”

There was a moment’s startled silence – before the surprising sound of the Slayer’s laughter. Buffy’s laugh was almost musical when it was so genuine, like this, he thought – the moment before thought was once again stolen away, this time by a breathtakingly tender, affectionate kiss.

“Buffy,” he whispered when she finally broke the kiss. “What…?”

Her soft fingertips stilled his lips, as she leaned in to whisper softly, “Shhh,” before brushing her lips across his one more time, as her hands found his and clasped them tightly, pulling them up to rest against the wall on either side of his head as she drew back from the light kiss.

She leaned in close again to whisper in his ear, her words slow and hushed and enticing.

“My sister is staying with Tara tonight. I know you can’t see it – but the curtains are drawn – the lights are turned down – there might be candles…” She smiled, so near to him that he could feel the smile against his skin. “…the barrier spell’s in place – so neither one of us is going anywhere for a while…Looks like I’ve got this night…this house…and *you*…all to myself.”

“Killer combination,” he remarked in a husky whisper, his voice slightly strained with his by now desperate, but as yet unfulfilled desire, that she was driving higher with every well-timed, well-chosen word.

“Hmm,” she mused thoughtfully, drawing back just a little, releasing one of his hands, lowering hers to trace a lazy, torturously slow circle over the spot where the tip of his erection was under his jeans – smiling when her efforts were rewarded with a low groan that bordered on a throaty whimper, and served to intensify her own arousal.

“I guess that depends on what I do with it.”