Chapter Nine

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Oh God, there was something wrong with her. There had to be, right? What Slayer in her right mind would be obsessing about a couple of silly kisses with a vampire? Mistaken kisses as well. Kisses that really should not be repeated...no matter how much she couldn’t get them out of her head. Maybe this was Spike’s master plan: drive her to distraction with kisses. Not that he had really initiated them, she remembered with a frown. She - stupidly, drunkenly - had been the one to tell him about the dreams. She couldn’t quite remember, but she was pretty sure she had kissed him. She seemed to vaguely remember doing it...but maybe somewhere along the line her dreams had got blurred with reality.


She sighed and turned back to the pile of documents waiting to be filed in front of her. She really needed to be out, slaying, trying to release some of this pent-up tension, but it was still a few hours until she finished work. Not that she had been in the best frame of mind for work today. She had been avoiding Spike and his crypt and his whole cemetery for the last two days but knew she would have to face him at some point. And she was dreading it. Because he would know – just as well as she did deep down – that she wanted to kiss him again. Now she thought about it, she really couldn’t see what was so very wrong in some harmless kissing.

He hasn’t got a soul, a voice suspiciously like Giles reminded her.

Soul, schmoul, another voice replied, He kisses damn well.

She buried her head in her hands with a groan. This was how she was going to go: death by obsession over vampire kiss leading to insanity.


She was glad to get out into the fresh air later, to be walking, driving away confusing thoughts with the pleasant simplicity of movement. It was a cool evening, dark clouds dotted through the darkening sky. It looked like rain but as so often happened, it would likely pass, leaving the Hellmouth untouched. Like Spike had said, it rarely rained in this place. Spike...again. Her thoughts just seemed to keep going in wider and wider circles, trying to get away from the core of her problem – only to go sauntering around a corner and slamming into it.


She let out a shaky breath and twirled her stake in her hands. A demon or two - or six - would have been a nice distraction about now. The demon that did appear in her eye line just a moment later was not, however, what she had been hoping for. She came to a dead halt, falling back on her perfected method of defence - barbs and crossed arms - as she faced the bleach-blonde vampire.

“You better not be following me,” she snapped out.

“You’re the one in my cemetery,” he answered with a smile, discarding his cigarette.

“Patrolling. You know, that thing I do where I hurt creatures of the night,” she said, glaring at him pointedly.

“Oh, I bet you’d hurt me real nice, Slayer,” he purred.

She covered the instinctive guttural moan caused by his sin-coated voice with a cough and glared at him, wishing her Slayer powers included laser vision at that point.

“You really need to get a life,” she commented, spinning on her heel and moving away to the right – knowing without a doubt that he would follow her.

“Wanna help?” he murmured, falling into step beside her.

She rolled her eyes and sped up her steps, even though he kept up easily. Luckily, distraction soon presented itself in the sudden downpour that burst upon them. She let out an admittedly girly shriek as the cold water drenched her in a matter of seconds, soaking through her jeans and flimsy top.

“Inside,” Spike growled, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her over to his crypt.



They burst into the crypt and he shut the door behind them as she moaned lowly, fingering her wet clothes. She was soaked through - not exactly having dressed for the weather – and her clothes were sticking to her in all sorts of unpleasant ways. She frowned and raised her gaze to find Spike staring at her – or more specifically at her now see-through top.

“Perve,” she accused and his eyes whipped up to hers.

He paused for a moment and then smiled.

“Can’t blame a guy.”

“Guess not,” she murmured, her eyes running down his own water-soaked front, taking in the planes of his chest where his T-shirt clung to him. Their gazes clashed and she saw his eyes darken with desire, probably reflecting her own. He gave his head a little shake though and moved around, dropping his coat and going to a chest, from which he retrieved a towel. He came to her and draped it around her shoulders, his eyes avoiding hers. She could feel her body reacting to his nearness and groaned lowly, causing him to turn towards her.


The next thing she knew, she was kissing him, hard, her arms around his neck as his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her up against him. The towel lay forgotten on the floor as she moaned at his touch, pressing herself to him. His cool mouth moved over hers, setting her alight as she clutched at his shoulders. They parted breathlessly and she raised wide, shocked eyes to his. Somewhat awkwardly, she stepped back and he dropped his hands as she cleared her throat nervously.

“Erm...so what are we going to do now?” she asked, looking at everything in the crypt but him.

“Could watch some TV if you want. ‘Til the rain stops.”

“Right, yeah. TV sounds good.”



They sat next to each other on the battered sofa, eyes fixed on the grainy picture of the television. Her eyes may have been on the television, but her attention was completely focussed on the vampire next to her. Her body was still buzzing from his kiss and she let out a shaky breath as she tried to calm herself. It was useless though: he was so close still, so that when he shifted to make himself more comfortable, his arm brushed hers. She let out a sigh and breathed his name.

“Spike.”

He turned to her with a questioning look and she leant towards him, pressing her lips to his once more. He let out a groan and his hand rose to her face, tugging her gently closer as he kissed her, his lips sliding across hers sensuously. She strained closer to him, mouth parting eagerly as his tongue slid over her bottom lip before delving into her mouth and drawing a choked moan from her. She was light-headed from his kiss and sagged against him, her fingers twisting in his damp top as she pressed herself against him. He grabbed her around the waist, turned her and dragged her onto his lap – all without breaking the kiss – and she tightened her arms around his neck, letting out helpless little sighs as he plundered her mouth with his.



He pulled away from her and his mouth dropped to her neck, causing her to gasp.

“So sweet and hot...” he murmured, his tongue tracing over her skin, before he drew her skin into his mouth and suckled on it lightly. She moaned loudly and twisted her fingers in his hair, fidgeting on his lap as she tried to subdue the tingling between her legs. He moaned at her movement and sucked on her skin harder.

“So beautiful...Jesus, Buffy...taste so good...”

“God, Spike...do you ever shut up?” she gasped out, guiding his mouth back to hers and kissing him hungrily as she wriggled impatiently on his lap. Suddenly he pulled away from her though, one arm clamping down across her legs as his burning gaze met hers.

“You gotta stop doing that or I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

Her head clearing without his mouth on hers, she bit her lip coyly and shifted ever so slightly against him, smiling as his eyes fell closed and he let out a moan. His eyes snapped quickly open again though and fixed on her, dark with hunger.

“Playing with fire, Slayer,” he all but growled out and she felt a little frisson go through her.

She smiled coyly and traced her finger over his jaw.

“Well, I do need warming up,” she whispered, leaning close and scraping her teeth over his ear.

He groaned lowly and she smiled to herself, amazed inwardly at just how sensitive he was to the slightest touch. It would almost be cruel to continue to tease him.



With a wicked smile, she wriggled against him again, her teeth scraping his neck as she pressed her chest against his.

“Slayer,” he growled, his arm almost painfully tight around her.

“Hmm?” she asked innocently, trailing her lips over his neck and biting down lightly on his collar bone.

“Oh God,” he moaned, bucking against her.

Strong hands reached up and caught her face, guiding her away from his neck as his mouth collided with hers roughly. She gasped and wrapped her arms around, needing even more contact – and hissing with pleasure when he granted it, his hand slipping under her top and resting on her back. God, how long had they been avoiding this? All that tension that had been bubbling under the surface since god knows when had exploded and she was heady with her desire. She just wanted to keep kissing him but breathing became an issue and she pushed him away gently, her head ducked as she took in long, shaky breaths.

“Jesus,” she got out shakily.

“Been called many things in my time...”

She rolled her eyes and raised her gaze to his with an unimpressed look. He smirked and just like that, the old tension was back.

“How about pig? Perve? Sick weirdo?”

“Hear it all the time,” he countered, his fingers tracing a maddening pattern on her skin that she desperately tried to ignore, “Funny thing is though, the girl who usually calls me them is currently writhing and panting in my lap so guess I can’t take her too seriously.”

“I am not writhing!” she protested, stilling her body’s helpless movements against him.

He just smirked and she narrowed her eyes.

“Less talking, more kissing. You’re much less annoying when-“



She was unable to finish her sentence as he tugged her against him, his lips finding hers again – this time softer, but no less passionate. She got the feeling he was really tasting her this time and took the opportunity to do the same, relaxing her grip on him as she succumbed to his gentler kiss. Her body was still tingling and she could feel the evidence of his desire against the back of her thigh, but for now, the frantic hunger of just seconds ago was gone. She relaxed in his embrace, sinking against him bonelessly as he kissed her, one hand cupping her cheek as he held her close. This time when his mouth dropped to her neck, she gave a contented sigh, her eyes closing as he pressed butterfly kisses along her neck.

“You’re still a perve,” she muttered under her breath.

“Don’t see you complaining, Slayer.”

“No,” she sighed, arching against him as blunt teeth scraped across her pulse point, sending her heartbeat racing, “Not complaining.”

He pulled away though and she let out a helpless whimper, opening her eyes with some effort and focussing on him.

“We should stop,” he got out, breathing just as heavily as her.

“Huh?” she answered inelegantly.

His eyes met hers, softer now, and he smiled slightly, raising a hand to brush a hair from her face.

“Not saying I’m not enjoying this...but I think we need to slow down, don't you?”

“Wow, I must be hallucinating. Spike trying to be a gentleman?!”

He gave her a withering look and she smiled sweetly, but acknowledging his point, slid off of his lap and onto the sofa. They were silent for a long moment and she sighed, sinking back into the sofa.

“Well, now what are we going to do?”