A/N: The song in this chapter is Moments in the Woods from "Into the Woods." This is my first attempt to change the lyrics to suit the fic, so if they're corny, I'm sorry.

Thank you to GoldenBuffy for the beta.

*****

Chapter 3: In You Now

“Oh my God.”

Spike rolled over lazily and looked at Buffy. “You keep sayin’ that.”

She sat up in bed, clutching the red sheet to her chest. “Well, first it was an ‘oh my God, what am I thinking?’ kind of thing. Then you started doing that thing with your tongue and it was an ‘oh my God, that feels so…’ – ohhhhhh.” She broke off into a moan as Spike’s fingers slid up her inner thigh, sticky with last night’s spendings. “Stop that.”

In response, Spike started nuzzling her side, licking the skin at her hip. “I mean it, stop that. Now we’re back to ‘what am I thinking?’ territory and… oh God…”

She felt him grinning against her flesh as his slender finger slipped inside her. “Mmmm… I beg to differ, pet.”

Buffy slid back down the bed, her legs falling open to grant Spike better access. “Ohhh, yes… no, wait!” she protested, wriggling away from him. “Spell!”

Spike looked at her with a mixture of impatience and bemusement. “This has to be the spell. I don’t even really like you!” she insisted, starting to crawl out of bed, pulling the sheet with her.

Spike pulled back, reeling in both sheet and Buffy until he could wrap his arms around her again. “’S not what you were saying last night. Pretty sure there were at least a few parts of me you were professing love for.” A wicked grin crept across his face and his eyes went glassy at the memory.

“This was a mistake, Spike. I can’t believe I let myself –” She whipped around and grabbed him by the throat. “My friends never hear about this, you understand?”

He took a rasping breath, more from surprise than anything else, and released her from his grasp, hoping she’d do the same. “Yeah, pet.” All signs of affection vanished from his expression, closing off his emotions as he resigned himself to the resumption of their usual roles.

She let go and attempted to once again leave the bed, this time managing to make it to the pile of clothes on the floor. Spike reached one arm toward the bedside table, patting around for a pack of cigarettes but coming up empty-handed. Which was too bad, because he could really use a cigarette. Or two. Packs.

As he watched Buffy dress, Spike mourned the loss of their brief but incredible union. Already it seemed like nothing more than a dream, a foolish fantasy that could never withstand the harsh light of day. Had she really been here, giving him soft caresses and fierce, hungry kisses, drowning him with the scent, the feel, the taste of her? Had they really – dare he say it? – made love in his bed, rising to new heights of passion with every extraordinary touch?

He knew it all to be true, and yet, watching her now, that night which meant everything to him seemed a million miles away.

But bloody fucking hell, it had been worth it.

“I have to go,” she said, adjusting her shirt, attempting to scrounge some decency from the rumpled mess. “It must be almost sunrise.”

“Way past, I’d say.”

“Great,” Buffy muttered. She pulled on her shoes and stood up, fully dressed. “I’m going now. I just – ugh.”

She shook off her disgust at what they’d done and turned to leave, but Spike was out of bed like a shot, blocking her path. He wrapped his arms around her neck and she tried not to be distracted by the fact that he was still naked. He was a vampire, and vampire still equaled bad, even if his body was so smooth and sculpted, and his arms were like bolts of solid steel encasing her, and his cock was shiny with her juices and half-erect, bobbing around as though demanding her attention.

“Slayer,” he whispered in her ear, in a tone of voice that melted her insides so that she wondered how she wasn’t a Buffy-puddle on the floor. “Don’t think you can get away so easy. You want me. You play the virtuous part, but you’ve gotten a taste. I’m in you now. You’ll be back.” Spike ran his tongue along her collarbone, trailing upwards, paying the same attention to her neck and that spot just behind her ear, causing her to emit a little gasp of pleasure.

Clinging to his faith in his own prowess, and to the sweet aroma that filled his nostrils – not the lingering scent of their lovemaking, but the fresh arousal that even now was dampening the Slayer’s thighs – Spike told himself he had a chance. He had driven her to ecstasy once – well, more like several times, actually, he was quite proud of that – and he could do it again. She wanted him as much as he wanted her, even if she wouldn’t admit it.

He would make her want him.

He let his fingers tickle the back of her neck, sending shivers down her spine, while his lips hovered millimeters from her skin, teasing mercilessly. He felt the twin points of her nipples brushing his chest through her shirt, and he pressed his erection against her, feeling through her jeans the warmth of a renewed rush of liquid heat. A mewling whimper escaped Buffy’s lips as her hands slipped around his waist, caressing his skin, but Spike quickly pulled away before she could do anything to relieve the growing ache of her unsatisfied stimulation.

“Go,” Spike said, with a smirk that told her he didn’t expect her to be gone for long.

Pausing outside the crypt, in the blazing sunlight, Buffy looked back and wondered aloud, “What was that?

“Was that me?
Was that him?
Did Spike really kiss me?
And kiss me?
And kiss me?”

She ran her fingertips over the spot on her neck where he’d licked her.

“And did I kiss him back?
Was it wrong?
Am I mad?
Is that all?
Does he miss me?
Was he suddenly
Getting bored with me?”

She shook her head as if to clear the crazy thoughts from her mind and began to march purposefully through the cemetery.

“Wake up! Stop dreaming
Stop prancing about the graves
It's not beseeming
What is it about this spell?

"Back to life, back to sense
Back to Dawn, back to Scoobies
He will never be good
There are vows, there are ties
There are needs, there are standards
There are shouldn'ts and shoulds”

She slowed down to a meandering pace, tilting her head to one side in thought.

“Why not both instead?
There's the answer, if you're clever
Have a sister for warmth
And a Watcher for aid
And a vampire for… whatever…”

A small satisfied smile crept across her face as she remembered how her limbs had dissolved into the quaking, writhing bliss of orgasm under his skilled mouth and hands and body, before her eyes widened in horror as she came back to her senses and redoubled her speed, trying to put as much distance between herself and Spike as possible.

“Never!
It's these spells

“Face the facts, find the cause
Join the group, stop the demon
Just get out of his crypt
Was that him? Yes, it was
Was that me? No, it wasn't
Just a spell-induced trick

“Just a moment
One peculiar passing moment...
Must it all be either less or more?
Either good or bad?
Is it always ‘or’?
Is it never ‘and’?
That's what spells are for
For those moments in the crypt…”

Somehow, ever since her resurrection, the world hadn’t seemed so black and white. Good and bad became less distinct, less disparate. She’d come back to a world where her friends caused her pain and Spike brought her… what? Happiness? Well… pleasure, that was for sure. She paused, leaning against a tombstone in a contemplative, dreamy daze, twirling a strand of her long blonde hair around one finger.

“Oh, if life were made of moments
Even now and then a bad one
But if life were only moments
Then you'd never know you had one”

She rolled her eyes and started walking again.

“First the vamps, then a sister,
Then my death, then a moment
Who can live in this town?
And to get what you wish
Only just for a moment
These are dangerous spells”

She climbed the cemetery gates, jumping to the ground on the other side. Before she left, she gazed in the direction of Spike’s crypt, running her fingers gently along the gate’s iron bars.

“Let the moment go…
Don't forget it for a moment, though
Just remembering you've had an ‘and’
When you're back to ‘or’
Makes the ‘or’ mean more
Than it did before”

She turned away from the gate triumphantly.

“Now I understand
And it's time to leave the crypt!”

When she made it back to her house, it was empty. A glance at the clock told her it was almost ten. Just a quick shower, then she’d have to be off to the Magic Box to figure out why the hell she was still singing.