Buffy and Spike crept into their room in the large, and empty, Bed and Breakfast. The sign on the front door had said, in all of its crocheted glory, “Out For The Weekend, Please Call Again!” They tried to be quiet, regardless of the unoccupied area. Spike stared at Buffy as she plopped down on the bed and kicked off her shoes. He cautiously sat down next to her and placed his dirt-encrusted boots neatly next to her stiletto “bootlets.”

“Buffy, pet, we’ll find a way back. I know we will.”

“But, what if we don’t want to?”

“Well, I….”

“No. Really. Think, Spike, would that really be so bad? You get to be human again, and I can have a regular life…have a baby….”

“Yeah, but someone already did the ‘fun part’ of that for you, love.”

“Right…but, still…I can have everything I always wanted…sans vampires, sans Angel, sans everything…everything but you.”

Buffy crawled closer to Spike on the bed. He cleared his throat nervously.

“Yeah, but if we stay here, you can’t go through on your threats to stake me. Y’know, pet, there’ll be hell to pay if you kill me here; all blood and no dust, yeah?”

She rolled her eyes and straddled Spike on the bed, her breasts barely touching his chest. Opening his warm, soft lips with hers, Buffy moaned softly. Spike pulled away after a moment’s bliss in the kiss, his eyes questioning her.

“Slayer, what do you think you’re doing?”

“You know what I realized, Spike? You’re the only constant in my life. No matter what you promised, you followed through…except, you know, the whole ‘I’ll kill you and dance in your blood’ thing.”

Spike smirked.

“I still might, Slayer. Still the ‘Big Bad,’ you know,” he said as he trailed his finger from her shoulder to her elbow, flicking her bra strap so it hung loosely on her arm.

“Spike…I….”

Buffy’s voice silenced as Spike pressed his lips onto hers; his tongue slipped into her hot mouth, and its unnatural warmth struck Buffy. Still straddling him, Buffy grinded into his hardening lap. A remainder of Spike’s animalistic vampire tendencies washed over him, and with a growl, he flipped Buffy over onto the bed. After quickly pulling off his pants, Spike began to remove his duster, but Buffy grabbed his arm.

“No, leave it on.”

Spike smiled as he removed his duster, stripped off his shirt, and put his duster back on. Buffy wriggled free of her tight red tank top and jeans on the bed, leaving herself in only a pair of lacy black boyshorts and a black bra. Spike sighed as he eyed her up and down.

“You’re immaculate, Slayer.”

Buffy’s eyes widened as she stared at his long, pulsing member and rock-hard stomach.

“Wow…so are you.”

Spike grinned as he climbed on top of her. Showering her with quick kisses on her breasts, chest, and face, Spike opened up her wet sex with his nimble fingers. Buffy moaned as he stroked inside of her and her own hands traveled down to her clit. After a moment a small burst of warm fluids covered Spike’s fingers and she bit down on her lip in ecstasy. His primal instincts now too throbbingly apparent to ignore, Spike thrust his cock into Buffy’s sopping folds. She moaned as he widened her, and came again with a short gasp. Spike’s own orgasm came shortly after Buffy’s, and he fell to her side, exhausted.

“Well, pet, I guess there are severe disadvantages to being human.”

Buffy cocked her head to the side.

“What do you mean? I’ve never…it was the most intense…uh…it was good! Great, even. The best I’ve ever….”

“It’d be better, Slayer. I’m not used to being all…warm-blooded.”

“I like you both ways,” she said, snuggling up to him and closing her eyes. “Does that mean I’m bi-bloodual?”

Spike chuckled softly before planting a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

“G’night, pet.”

“Goodnight, Spike.”

“Buffy?”

“Yeah?”

“You like me.”

“Shut up or I’ll stake you.”

“Not a vampire anymore, love.”

“I’ll bet it still smarts, though.”

Spike contemplated the image for a moment before closing his eyes and nestling close to Buffy.

“Right. G’night, Slayer.”

--

Theresa cowered in the corner of Giles’ living room, Ethan standing above her, his face distorted in a vampiric mask.

“Theresa, what’s wrong?”

“Get away! You’re not Ethan! You’re horrible!”

Giles ran into the living room, half-asleep, roused from his sleep by “Buffy’s” petulant screams.

“Spike? How did you get out?”

He moved to grab at Ethan, who backed up and yelled.

“Hey! Get away from me you weirdo!”

“Weirdo? Spike, are you feeling quite well?”

“Who the hell is Spike? I’m Ethan Crane…or, I was,” Ethan said staring at Theresa, “until I found out that my mother is a whore and Sam Bennet is my real father.”

As his sadness became apparent, Ethan’s face slipped out of his vampiric mask. Theresa stared at him for a moment before standing up and walking over to him.

“Ethan, is that really you? What happened?”

Giles shook his head and took his glasses off with a dramatic flair.

“Oh, good Lord. Who are you?”

Theresa frowned at Giles.

“I think we’ll be asking the questions, here, pal. First off, why did you have Ethan chained up in your bathtub? And why does my reflection look like a little blonde girl?”

“And why don’t I have a reflection,” Ethan asked with a slight hitch in his breath.

“Oh, dear. You aren’t Spike or Buffy, are you?”

“No!”

“Right. I think I need to call Willow.”

“A tree? What kind of place is this,” Theresa said, rolling her eyes.

“No…she’s a witch, and she’s probably behind this whole debacle.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow.

“A witch? There’s no such thing as witches, buddy, I hate to break it to you.”

“Oh, just shut up, Spike…or Elvis, or whoever the devil you are. Go eat something…keep yourselves occupied. But don’t go outside,” Giles said, pointing at Ethan.

“And why not? You can’t keep us here,” Ethan said.

“Because Spike, whose body you seem to have invaded, is a vampire…and if you go out in the sun, you’ll burst into flames and Spike will be no more. On second thought, please, go outside.”

Ethan and Theresa frowned at Giles before walking into the kitchen. Ethan grabbed a box of Weetabix, enthused.

“Oooh! Weetabix! They’re my…hey, guy, we’re out of Weetabix!”

“We are out of Weetabix because you...because Spike ate it all. Again,” Giles called from the living room. “Now, please be quiet while I’m on the phone…bloody Americans.”

--