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How Can Something So Cold, Make Me So Hot? by slaymesoftly
How Can Something So Cool Make Me So Hot?
by Slaymesoftly (6/1/06)
Rating: NC17
Word count 5415
Disclaimer: Just making Joss’s characters do naughty things a little sooner than he did.
A (by request) pwp get well fic for Chelle (Burning Eden) Buffy falls asleep in the sun and gets a bad burn. Can a vampire help?

How Can Something So Cool Make Me So Hot?

“Ow, owie, ow!” Buffy’s voice echoed through the house as she stomped into the kitchen and headed directly for the refrigerator. Grabbing an ice tray from the freezer, she quickly banged out the frosty cubes and began stuffing them into a zip-lock bag.

“Buffy?” Dawn’s voice was puzzled and confused. “What’s wrong? Why do you need an ice bag while it’s still daylight? You haven’t been out slaying already, have you?”

“No, I haven’t been slaying; I feel asleep in the yard while I was sunbathing and I’m all burned on my back and face. See?”

She turned around and Dawn gasped as she saw the deep red color on one side of Buffy’s face and her bikini-clad back and legs. Every part of her body that had been exposed while she napped on her stomach was bright red and radiating heat. Dawn’s response was not as sympathetic as Buffy might have hoped.

“Well, that was really stupid,” she chirped. “What did you think would happen if you stayed out there so long?”

“I was asleep,” her sister answered through clenched teeth. “I didn’t do this on purpose!”

“Still seems dumb to me,” Dawn muttered. “What are you doing with the ice cubes?”

“The cold feels good on my skin,” Buffy answered, rubbing an ice cube over her flaming cheek. “I just wish I could reach my back with them.”

After taking a cool shower, dressing in the smallest amount of clothing in which she could legally be seen in public, and getting a fresh bag of ice cubes, the Slayer ventured out into the cooler evening air, hoping she wouldn’t find much to slay and could return early to soak in a tub of cold water. One hour and the dusting of a single fledgling later, she was turning toward her home -- cutting through Restfield cemetery -- when she felt a familiar tingle on the warm nape of her neck.

“Come out, Spike,” she sighed. “I know you’re there; stop hiding.”

“Wasn’t hiding,” he muttered, stepping out of the shadows. “I was lurking. Completely different thing, Slayer.”

“Hiding, lurking, skulking, stalking…whatever,” she grumbled. “I’m not in the mood for it tonight.”

“What are you in the mood for then?” he asked, raising one eyebrow suggestively. “An’ what’s with the bag of drink accessories?”

As he got closer, he could feel the heat radiating from one side of her face and his enhanced night vision allowed him to see the heightened color on her cheek.

“What did you do, Slayer?”

He unconsciously reached out with one hand and touched her cheek, gasping as he felt the heat there. Buffy gave a matching gasp as his cool fingers calmed the burn for a few seconds. As Spike drew his hand back, she surprised them both by grabbing his wrist and pressing his palm to her cheek.

“Oh! That feels good!”

He was struck temporarily silent as the bane of his existence kept his hand pressed against her cheek while she sighed with relief. Easing closer to her, he ran his eyes over her barely-clad body and asked softly, “Were you on your way to the beach, luv?”

“What? No! Had all the sun I want for one day, thank you very much! Why would you ask me that?”

“Well, ‘cause you aren’t wearing much more than a few scraps of cloth, and even in this decadent era that’s usually beach attire, not slaying wear.”

“Oh,” Buffy blushed lightly, glancing at her short, low-cut shorts and halter top. “I just didn’t want anything more touching my sunburn than I had to, and the cool night air feels good against my skin.”

Dropping his hand from her cheek, he slowly circled the suspicious slayer, noting the heat radiating off her back and legs and the backs of her arms. While the skin on the front of her body was a distinct pink color, that on her back was a deep and painful-looking red.

“So, it’s not just your face that needs coolin’ down,” he murmured, running one hand lightly over her bare shoulder and smiling when she shivered.

“No,” she said tightly, clutching her bag of ice cubes and trying not to think about how good his cool fingers felt stroking her skin. “Hence the bag of ice cubes.”

“But how do you get ice cubes…here…?” He touched the bare skin between her shoulder blades, allowing his hand to linger just long enough to feel the skin cool off.

“There are a couple of places I can’t reach,” she admitted with a gasp as his hand remained pressed against the middle of her back. “But only a few.”

“I could reach them for you,” he ventured, dipping his free hand into the bag of ice and removing one chilly block. “Like this.” He ran the ice cube from the hairline on the nape of her neck down her spine all the way to where the top of her low-rise shorts barely covered the crack in her ass.

Buffy’s involuntary moan of pleasure sent a bolt of pure lust straight to his cock and he bit back his own groan. Taking courage from the lack of objection on her part, he bent his knees and ran the ice cube down the back of one silky thigh, lingering on the sensitive skin behind her knee before continuing down to her ankle. He was just reaching for another ice cube when they heard the sound of laughter behind them and whirled to see two fledglings, still covered with dirt.

Neither of the newly-risen vamps had any idea that they were looking at a Slayer and a master vampire; they simple thought they had found their first meals. Stepping closer, the taller one snarled, “I don’t know what you two freaks are doing, but I hope you enjoyed it. It’ll be the last thing you---“

He never finished his remarks as Spike, infuriated at having his rare opportunity to touch the Slayer’s body interrupted, threw a stake with unerring accuracy. Not even bothering to watch the vamp dust, he turned back to the glowing skin he’d been stroking only to find Buffy attacking the other fledgling.

“Ow, owie, ow, ow!” Her kicks were punctuated by whimpers of pain as the burned skin complained about being moved and stretched so vigorously. When the vampire took advantage of her reluctance to continue fighting him and punched her hard enough to send her to the ground, she surprised Spike by lying still on the damp grass, sighing with pleasure and paying no attention to the demon stalking towards her, salivating as he approached the apparently helpless meal.

With a roar, Spike grabbed the bloodlust-addled fledgling and broke his neck, tossing the immobile body aside to be staked later. He stood over Buffy and frowned at the blissful expression on her face.

“What are you doing, you stupid bint? He was about to make you his first meal!”

“Piffle!” She waved one hand airily, then hissed and dropped it back onto the grass. “I knew you’d stop him. You would not believe how good this feels, Spike. I could stay here all night.”

“You bloody well cannot!” he growled. “I‘m not going to stand here all night guarding your worthless body while you loll around in the grass. Anyway,” he added when she showed no signs of moving, “the grass is full of bugs – you know, chiggers, ticks, fleas…all those little things that want to drink your blood almost as much as that moron did.” He gestured towards the inert fledgling, laughing when Buffy shot up off the ground with an “ewwww!” of disgust.

With a glare at the still-laughing vampire, she stomped over to the terrified fledgling and put him out of his misery. She turned to Spike and her lower lip came out in a pout as she whined, “But, it felt so good…all cool and damp and I could do my whole body at one time instead of just little bits like I can with the ice cubes.”

His eyes on her succulent lower lip, Spike moved closer to her and whispered, “I can think of another way to cool off your whole body at one time, Slayer.”

“What?” She smothered her suspicion and looked at him eagerly. “What else is cool and could cover my whole body at once?”

In response, he laid his cool hands against the skin of her back, smiling when she shivered and leaned back against them.

“Okay, point made. But your hands can’t cover my whole—“ She stopped and swallowed hard as she realized how he could cool her whole back side at once.

“My crypt is right over here, luv,” he coaxed, pointing towards his door. “You could lie on your tummy on the cool stone of my bed and I could cover you with my cool, smooth skin. Could even run the ice cubes over it first, if you’d like,” he added as an incentive.

As he spoke, they were walking slowly towards his crypt and Buffy kept telling herself she was only entering the dark building because she was in pain. It had nothing to do with the way the thought of having Spike’s naked body on top of hers was sending tingles and heat to places that hadn’t been touched by the sun.

He quickly lit a few candles and showed her the smooth stone sarcophagus upon which he often slept. Spike took her hand and placed in on the stone saying softly, “You see, luv? Nice and cool and smooth for your burned tummy, and then I can cover your back with cold, smooth vampire skin. Chilled, just the way you like it.”

Mesmerized by his rich voice, as well as by the cool breath ghosting past her burning cheek, Buffy nodded dumbly and began to climb up upon the large stone slab. She lay down on her stomach, sighing as the cool surface touched the less painful, but still burned skin on her front. Stripping quickly before she could change her mind, Spike ran a handful of ice all over his arms, legs and torso before carefully lowering himself onto the small but curvaceous body below him.

Buffy’s gasp of pleasure almost smothered his groan as her heated flesh pressed against him and he felt the strong but feminine body beneath his. Slipping a hand in between them, he pulled out the knot in her halter top, allowing it to fall open and let his smooth ivory chest completely cover the heated skin on her back. He carefully stretched out his legs, putting them against the hottest parts of her thighs and calves. His arms reached around hers and pressed against the equally warm flesh on the backs of her arms.

Buffy’s face was turned to the side, one cheek against the cool stone of the sarcophagus; gingerly, he lowered his head until his own cheek was resting against hers. When he could feel that he was no longer cooling the skin on her cheek, as the heat had quickly warmed his own, he pulled his head back to whisper in her ear, “Does that feel good, pet?”

His cool breath sent another shiver through her and she vibrated under him as she struggled for an answer that wouldn’t include any mention of the hard muscles pressed against her curves and the sensations he was causing that had nothing to do with cooling her flesh. The closest she could manage to a coherent answer was “Guh” and a small nod.

Which suited the vampire fine as he was struggling with his own verbal issues. In spite of his outward appearance and casual demeanor, the feeling of a nearly nude slayer squirming beneath his own naked body was robbing him of any ability to speak or think clearly. In an effort to resist running his lips along the nape of her neck the way he wanted to, he settled for licking the area and blowing on it gently once it was wet.

“Ummmm,” she murmured. “Feels almost as good as an ice cube.”

“Only almost, Slayer?” he growled. “What about this? Or this?” Matching actions to words, he began to use his lips and tongue to worry the sides of her neck, dipping his head to drop kisses along the top of her shoulders, then raising it slightly to run his tongue around the shell of her ear and to tickle the opening there.

“Okay, soooo not cooling me off,” she grumbled with a blush that sent more warm blood flooding her upper body. As she spoke, she realized that the body lying on hers was completely naked and she gave a small “eek” of distress as she felt his hard length pressing against her butt cheeks. “Spike! Why didn’t you keep your underwear on?”

“Don’t wear underwear, luv,” he murmured, moving his hips just enough to drop his burgeoning erection between her thighs. He groaned when Buffy unconsciously clenched her thighs together -- squeezing his cock and giving him a taste of what it would feel like to be buried in her heat. He pressed himself against her, burying his face in her hair and inhaling the scent of sunshine and herbal shampoo. “You know, I could cover more skin if you took off those teeny little knickers you’re wearing. I know what kind of bathing suits you wear and I know there’s got to be more burned skin that I’m not reaching.

“But…but you feel as warm as I do now,” she gasped, reluctant to move from under the muscular vampire. “It won’t help.”

“I have more ice,” he whispered in her ear, causing another shiver that made them both groan. “While you take them off, I could be cooling off again.”

“Oh. Okay, that sounds like a good plan. You’ll cool of again, and I will just…and then we’ll be back just like this, right?”

“If that’s what you want, luv. I’m yours to command.”

“I command you to get more ice,” she said imperiously.

“As you wish, luv,” he whispered, seizing her earlobe between his blunt teeth gently before letting go and lifting himself off of her. He smothered the whimper that wanted to escape his lips when his cock slid from between her silky thighs and only the way she moaned when it did kept him from throwing himself back down upon her. That small sign that she might welcome him back when the scrap of cloth she was wearing was gone was enough to make him grit his teeth and force himself away from her body.

While he hastened to his refrigerator for more ice, Buffy quickly removed the small shorts she had pulled on before going out. She bit her lip briefly, then with a quick glance at the vampire whose head was still buried in the refrigerator, she also stripped off her thong, dropping it to the floor with her shorts. She quickly jumped back onto the sarcophagus and stretched out again, sighing with pleasure when she found that the stone had cooled off while she was up. When Spike returned with a bucket of ice cubes, his unneeded breath caught in his throat as he took in Buffy’s nudity.

With a dry mouth and shaking hands, he removed two ice cubes and ran them down her spine, pausing when he got to her ass, then splitting his hands to run one over each rounded globe before continuing down her legs. He ran the cubes of frozen water up and down both legs, coming closer and closer to her inner thighs. As the ice melted, his hands began to touch her skin with light, soothing strokes. Each time they slid up her thighs, his thumbs came closer to her barely-hidden neatly trimmed curls and he could hear a small hitch in her breathing every time they brushed against her lips.

He climbed back onto the sarcophagus, still running his wet hands up and down the backs of her thighs. He took a quick glance at Buffy’s face and saw that her eyes were closed and her lips parted. Her breath was coming in short, hard pants and he was encouraged enough to lean forward and run his lips and tongue across the bright red swatch of skin that had been hidden under the waistband of her shorts. He licked the area, then blew on it until he saw goose bumps appear. Moving his lips lower, he gently kissed first one, then the other firm mound of flesh in front of his face.

The way the muscles under his lips tensed and bunched had him backing off and he quickly grabbed more ice and ran it over his upper body before moving to hover over the Slayer’s still burning back. He could feel the heat coming off her body from inches away as he slowly lowered himself until he was just barely touching her. Melted ice dripped from his chest onto her back and she shuddered briefly before he closed the gap and was once again resting against her body.

“I’m sorry, luv,” he whispered huskily. “Didn’t mean to take advantage of you like that. I’m a rude, weak man and when I saw that luscious arse right in front of me…”

“It…it’s okay,” she gasped, stretching out under him and smothering a moan. “You just surprised me, that’s all. I’m not…mad…about…it…” Her voice trailed off as he settled himself on top of her, once again seeking to cover every square inch of skin with his own. Just when his cock, which was resting against her tightly clenched thighs, was beginning to ache with the need for more contact she relaxed her legs allowing it to once again slide between them.

“Bloody hell, Slayer,” he groaned, unable to prevent his hips from moving against her firm ass as it snuggled into him. “You’re killing me here, luv.”

“You want to stop?” The disappointment in her voice was unmistakable. “Do you want to get off?”

She shifted slightly under him as though trying to move away and without thinking he blurted, “Christ, no! Never want to stop. I could stay like this forever as long as I’m not getting too heavy for you.”

“May…maybe I could get on top?” she ventured shyly, “Then you wouldn’t have to worry about smushing me.”

Before she finished speaking, Spike had rolled over, pulling her with him so that she was lying face up with a fully aroused vampire underneath her naked body. Buffy gulped as she realized that she was now lying naked in Spike’s crypt, fully exposed to anyone who might walk in.

His arms moved from their former position against hers to gently encircle her body, holding her lightly in place against his chest. He tentatively ran one hand down her body, feeling the lesser heat from the minor sunburn covering her skin from chin to toes. With the exception of her breasts and a small triangle of flesh at the tops of her thighs, her skin glowed with a pink tint that gave off its own small amount of heat.

Spike picked up an ice cube and without warning ran it from her chin down between her breasts until it just barely touched her curls. He moved it around her torso, leaving cool wet trails over her flat stomach and ribs. Running it up between her breasts again, he began to stroke it across her chest; with each pass, the cube became smaller and his hand dipped closer to the hardened nipples sitting up and begging for attention. When the ice had become nothing but cool water on his hand, he allowed his fingers to brush lightly across the needy buds that pushed up into his palm.

One large hand splayed across Buffy’s stomach, holding her firmly in place, while the other kneaded and played with her breasts, causing them both to begin breathing harder and moving together. Buffy pressed her ass into his hips, clenching her thighs around the thick column of flesh protruding through them. With each movement, Spike’s cock slid past her clit, bringing whimpers from them both.

When he took another ice cube and slipped it all the way down her body and into her folds, she arched up with a small shriek as he ran it over her clit. Her hands reached behind her to grab his hair as she writhed against him while he teased her, running the rapidly dwindling ice cube around her folds and avoiding the small, rosy nub for which Buffy was trying to find some friction. Just as the last of the cube began to melt against her flesh, he pressed in against her clit and began to rub it in small circles. She couldn’t have said when the ice was gone and Spike’s cool fingers became the source of the sensations overtaking her, but it was soon clear that the vampire’s talented fingers were the only things standing between her and complete frustration. When her whimpers began to sound more like growls, he took the hint and with a few hard strokes sent her back arching as she bowed up and shrieked her release.

Her boneless collapse back onto his chest gave him the time he needed to position the head of his cock at her entrance and begin to nudge his way in. By the time Buffy was sufficiently recovered to realize what was going on, she was half-filled by a cool thick object that twitched occasionally as it worked its way into her willing body.

With gentle hands, mindful of her still-painful skin, the vampire urged her to a sitting position, allowing his aching cock to slide all the way into the warmth of her body. With a gasp, Buffy leaned forward, resting her hands on his knees as she got used to the feeling. She wanted to turn around and ask him what he expected to be able to do in that position, but before she could do it she felt him shifting beneath her as he reached for the ice again.

With long, soothing strokes, he rubbed the cooling blocks of frozen water over her back and shoulders, rubbing the nape of her neck and then dropping down to tease her lower back and trickle cold water between their joined bodies. When the ice was gone, he put his cooled hands on her hips and began to gentle rock against her. As he bumped the head of his cock against the spongy bundle of nerves behind her womb, she gasped and clenched her muscular walls around him, evoking in her turn, a growled “Like that, luv. Ah! Do that again, Buffy,” from the startled vampire.

While Spike was moving against her ass, faster and faster as his urgency built, Buffy was crying with the need for more of the sensations he was creating. Her vision blurred as he moved within her, stimulating an area she hadn’t even know she had, but providing no friction against her once-again throbbing clit. When her gasps turned to frustrated whimpers, he slid a hand off her hip and around to her needy nubbin. Once again he used his fingers to bring her to a sudden release. Giving a smothered scream, she clenched around him as though she could use the force of her orgasm to hold herself in place. With her walls clutching him as she shuddered against his hand, he exploded into her with a shouted “Buffy!”, his hips pushing up off the stone slab and his hands pulling her body down onto him.

He continued small pumping motions long after he had spent himself; the slayer had fallen forward onto his thighs, her flexibility allowing her to bend in half as she struggled to get her strength and breath back. Spike’s cool hands continued to stroke her bare back as he waited to see what her reaction would be. It was one thing for him to provide pleasure for her, under the guise of soothing her pain; it was something else for him to take her from behind and spend himself in her welcoming depths without so much as a kiss being exchanged.

When, after long minutes, she made no attempt to get off, instead keeping her head buried against his knees, he took a chance and gently pulled her back against his chest, allowing his softened cock to slide out of her warmth as he did so. He held her tightly against him for a while, waiting for her breathing and heart rate to return to normal. While he waited, he gently stroked her arms, providing soothing and cool, calming sensations to her over-stimulated body.

When he felt her relax against him with a sigh, he gathered his courage enough to speak softly into her ear. Kissing it gently first, he whispered, “If I get up for a few minutes, will you promise to still be here when I get back?”

Buffy gave a dumb nod, not trusting her voice just yet, and unsure what she would say to him if she could. She avoided his eyes as he gently eased her off his body and back onto the sarcophagus on her stomach. With another gentle kiss to her bare shoulder, he moved away, casting anxiously glances back frequently to be sure she was still there.

With a final look to assure himself that she wasn’t moving, he dropped through the door into his bed room and ran for his make-shift shower. Quickly, he soaked a sheet in cold water and dashed back up the ladder to find, with relief, that the slayer was lying where he had left he. She still wouldn’t look at him as he folded the wet sheet in half length-wise and put it down next to her on the sarcophagus.

“Sit up for moment for me, will you, love?” he asked timidly. Her refusal to look at him was causing his stomach to clench with fear; only the fact that she was still there and still naked gave him any hope that she wasn’t going to stake him before she left. When she had sat up, still not meeting his eyes, and feebly trying to cover herself with her hands, he quickly put the folded sheet down on the hard stone, moving the still mute Slayer so that he could cover the whole bed with the cool, wet cloth.

When Buffy went to lie down on her stomach again, he stopped her with a tentative hand on her shoulder saying, “Try this, sweetheart,” and pushing her down gently onto her back. She gave a quick gasp when her back touched the wet sheet, then smiled slightly as the coolness spread across her back and down her legs. Her slayer healing had already kicked in and the sunburn was well on its way to being a painful memory, but she saw no reason to tell that to the attentive vampire who was working so hard to keep her comfortable.

Finally looking at him, she said lightly, “You could have done this in the first place, you know.”

“Ah,” he ventured with a small smirk. “But that wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun, now would it, Slayer?” His smile began to fade when she didn’t respond, and he stood up, wondering if he had finally gone too far. He breathed a sigh of relief when she gave him a twisted grin and agreed wryly, “No, I don’t suppose it would have.”

His confidence restored by her smile and the lack of threats to stake him, he climbed back onto the sarcophagus and began to crawl towards her, casting admiring looks down at her body and enjoying her blushes. Soon, he was over her on all fours, his face just inches away from hers. He dropped his head and rested his cheek against her burned one, noting that the heat coming from it now was more similar to the normal warmth that he felt when close to her. He ran his lips over it lightly, murmuring, “You seem to be much better now, luv. Not doin’ that furnace imitation anymore.”

“Go slayer healing,” she said weakly as he ran his mouth softly around her chin and down her neck, pausing to suck gently on the skin over her pulse.

When Spike felt her heartbeat speed up at having his teeth so close to her throat, he chided her gently. “Didn’t spend all this time making you feel better jus’ to kill you, Slayer. ‘M not planning to hurt you.”

“As if you could,” she breathed, turning her head to give him more access to the smooth column of her neck.

“As if I could,” he agreed softly, moving his mouth back up to her jaw line and kissing his way across until all he had to do to reach her lips was move his head just a fraction. “As if I would,” he whispered, brushing his lips across hers and swiping her lower lip with his tongue. “As if I would.”

As he finished speaking, he fastened his lips on her waiting mouth and finally indulged in the kiss he had been waiting for since he first saw her lower lip move out into a pout. His lips were soft and gentle, not demanding, but the hunger behind them was unmistakable and Buffy responded to it without thinking. Her tongue came out to slowly trace around his lips, retreating when he immediately sent his own tongue out to meet it, then moving back with more confidence until the kiss took on a life of its own. Gentleness gave way to passion and need, strong emotions that the Slayer met with her own demands for longer, deeper kisses until her legs, seemingly of their own volition, came up around his waist and he once more slipped into her waiting depths.

Moans turned to murmurs, turned to gasps and pants as her hips rose to meet him thrust for thrust and they began the pleasure/pain climb toward another mutual orgasm. When the Slayer’s powerful arms and legs pulled him into her body while she clenched around him, the vampire pushed into her so hard he was sure they were both going to have bruises. His face shifted when he felt Buffy shuddering around him and with a roar he emptied himself into her, his hips jerking until he collapsed against her, gasping for unneeded air.

Buffy’s arms and legs relaxed their tight hold on his body and slid off to lie against the tangled sheet. With a final lingering kiss to her unresponsive lips, Spike rolled to the side, one arm resting possessively against her stomach. He felt her begin to stir and unconsciously tightened his grip before realizing that she was trying to move his hand so that she could get up.

Once again, she refused to meet his eyes as she fumbled around in the faint light from the lone guttering candle. She pulled on her shorts and top without turning to look at him, only pausing when she had tied her sneakers and found her stakes.


“Don’t,” she warned, every line of her body screaming with regret at having so easily surrendered to his less-than-subtle seduction.

“Goddammit, Slayer, I –“

“I mean it, Spike!” She raised a stake threateningly. “Don’t ever mention this. Not to me, not to anyone. Do you hear me?”

“Don’t mention what?” he asked flatly, staring at her with hard eyes that held just a trace of something she refused to identify as pain.


She whirled and ran to the door, almost ripping it off its hinges in her haste to get out and away from the naked vampire sitting on his bed and staring after her wistfully.

“Never happened, never happened, never happened,” she chanted as she ran toward her home and the safety of her own bed. She ran into the house and up to her room, diving into her bed and under the covers without even undressing. She pulled the pillow over her head and let sleep overtake her, still murmuring to herself, “It never happened. It was just a dream. It never happened.”

the end