“I love you, Buffy…”

Buffy sat up straight in her bed, clutching Mr. Gordo to her chest in horror. “Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god. Just a dream… just a dream…”
She slipped silently from bed, padding down the stairs to the kitchen to make herself a cup of hot chocolate and clear her mind of the dre – nightmare!

Walking silently into the kitchen, she stopped dead at the sight of a shirtless Spike boiling
something on the stove. As she stood silently and watched him, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, she felt a warm flush spread through her, something unrelated to lust. A surge of affection filled Buffy, affection for the evil soulless vampire.

…The vampire that was turning around at that exact moment, taking the pan off the no-longer-on stove. Upon seeing Buffy, he jumped back. “Slayer!”

Buffy nodded at the pan, ignoring her blushing cheeks. “Whatcha makin’?”

Spike shrugged, still looking tense. “Hot chocolate.”

Buffy smiled nervously. “C-cool. I’ll have some too, okay?”

She moved past him to pull down the mugs and mini marshmallows. Turning around, she felt his eyes on her and began to babble nervously.
“Here. Two mugs, and a bag of marshmallows. I don’t know why they’re mini. Mom keeps on buying the mini ones, even though both she and I like the big ones better. I don’t know why. But here they are…”

She held out the marshmallows, which Spike took. He answered her, voice soft. “I love mini marshmallows.”

Buffy’s startled eyes shot to his. “Oh.”

Spike set the marshmallows down and took a small step closer to her. “We need to talk, Slayer.”

Buffy backed up until she hit the counter. “W-why?”

Spike prowled closer, eyes unreadable. “Why?” he asked quietly, tilting his head. “Let me think…”

Buffy’s hands twitched and she tried to pry her eyes away from his lips as he walked closer, his hands landing on the counter on either side of her and trapping her. “Maybe,” he continued, “Because – ”

Buffy suddenly reached up and snatched Spike’s head, pulling him close for a kiss. The moment his lips touched hers, she whimpered and pulled him even closer. Surprised, Spike didn’t respond for a moment, then he began to kiss back, his mouth opening to accept her questing tongue.

Buffy’s eyes fell closed and she let out a happy little sigh, her hands sliding into Spike’s hair. Spike fought to keep his eyes open even as he took the final step to press them close together and his hands left the countertop to hold her tight to him.

In between kisses, he spoke. “Because… we keep… mm… doing… this…”

Buffy murmured something against his mouth, which sounded like, “So?”

Spike’s lips quirked up at the corners and he kissed her harder, a hand fisting in her hair and tilting her head back a little more. “So… we really… shouldn’t. … It’s… hum… not…”

He trailed off, not finishing his sentence as he nibbled at her lips. Buffy moaned and a hand at his back pulled him closer. She pulled back a little, beginning to press kisses along his jawline.

“It’s not… what?” she asked, making her way to his neck and swirling her tongue around the scars where Drusilla had bit him to turn him.
Spike groaned, not answering. Buffy continued to kiss his neck, finally biting it lightly. At that, Spike jumped a little and pulled back only to plant an earth-shaking, life-changing, utterly needy kiss to her lips.

Buffy shivered, the kitchen around her disappearing, the world melting away. All that existed, all that needed to exist, was Spike. Spike’s naked chest pressed to hers, his muscles clenched and hard. Spike’s back underneath her fingers, smooth skin hiding steel strength. Spike’s hair, soft and silky, wrapped through the fingers of her other hand. His arms banded around her back, holding her safe in his embrace. His belt buckle digging into her stomach as he strained ever closer. And his lips.

God, his lips, moving smoothly against hers, custom-made to fit perfectly, to never leave her needy mouth. His tongue in her mouth, moving like no tongue should be able to move, evoking the sort of pleasure that belonged in trashy romance novel sex scenes, not in a kiss, almost fully clothed, in the kitchen. His mouth was perfect, his kiss pure sin, so sweet and bad that it was a wonder anyone did good.

Time spun into oblivion, the need for air gone; Buffy would gladly suffocate as long as he continued to kiss her like this.

Suddenly, his lips were torn away and reality began to rush back in. Buffy whimpered and opened her eyes, reaching for him, but he pulled away.

“It’s not right.” Spike stated, staring at Buffy.

She stared at him for a moment, lips tingling and head spinning, then nodded seriously. “I know.”

Then she was back on him, and their mouths were moving across each-other, hands frantically roaming to find bare skin. Spike pressed Buffy up against the counter and she hopped up to wrap her legs around his waist.

Spike groaned, stumbling out of the kitchen to fall onto the living room couch, pinning Buffy down. She moaned, “Spike…”

He groaned again, lifting his head away from her lips for a single moment to whisper her own name, “Buffy.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Buffy was alert the moment she woke up, fully aware of where she was and what had happened the night before. And, much to her surprise, she was okay with it.

Apparently, her bedmate was anything but.

Spike woke with a jerk, and upon seeing her face, he fell back with a cry, stumbling to his feet away from the couch, eyes wide.

He took in the sight of a blushing Buffy covering herself with a blanket, then glanced down at his own naked form. “Oh no.”

It was all he seemed capable of saying, even as he danced away from Buffy, quickly shoving himself into his pants. “Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no…”

Buffy blinked hard several times, feeling tears pricking her eyes. Apparently the run-from-Buffy-after-sex charm was still working. Well, at least Spike couldn’t turn more evil than he already was, and he hadn’t tricked her into anything. No, thought Buffy, if anyone had done any tricking in this situation, it was she. She’d been thinking about something like this since the will-be-done spell (and even then, she’d been the one to keep trying to kiss him as he pulled away), and when they’d suddenly started kissing, hadn’t it been Spike who wanted to talk about it, figure it out?

Yes, it had. Buffy had been the one who didn’t want to; in fact, she’d been the one to initiate that final kiss. Yes, he’d kissed back – but she’d grabbed him, when he was actively trying to figure out what was going on. Hell, he’d kept trying to talk to her, even through the kiss, and she’d asked him, ‘So?’ And he’d even said it outright. He had said, ‘This is wrong’, and Buffy had acknowledged that, and kissed him again anyway.

So, god, wasn’t it her fault? Buffy remembered him trying to figure things out, and her distracting him with the kisses that he apparently couldn’t resist despite what he wanted – and for a moment she felt a horrible temptation to actively try to distract him that way again; to just walk up to him and kiss him, and simply not let him get dressed and get away…

Spike had finally quieted, now he was finally dressed in his jeans and t-shirt, though he still had bare feet and tousled hair that clearly said he’d just gotten up. Now he was just staring at her. Buffy realized that he was probably in shock.

She stood, careful to keep her blanket covering her, and approached Spike. His eyes widened, and he backed up until he was actually hitting the wall – but he didn’t say a word.

Buffy didn’t have a plan of any kind. She was winging it, with no idea what was going on. The whole situation was crazy to begin with. How could either of them attempt to make sense of it?

But, as she looked at Spike again, confused, breathing hard, pressed against the wall like a cornered animal, and utterly gorgeous, she decided she didn’t want to. What she wanted to do right now was kiss him again, and god damn it, she was going to do just that, because this Slayer was overdue for some pleasure!

So she took a deep breath, licked her lips, and slowly, deliberately, pressed her body against his.

She could feel him trembling.

Spike didn’t move away from her, but he didn’t move any closer either, and when her lips brushed against his, a violent shudder wracked through his entire body. “What are you doing?” he whispered, his voice hoarse and disbelieving – but even so, the sound of it nearly made Buffy’s toes curl with longing.

She continued to lean forward, and slowly, his head moved back as hers moved forward, until it was pressed against the wall and Buffy stood on tiptoes; but their lips were still barely touching.

Buffy was still wrapped in the blanket alone, and she shifted slightly to hold it closed with only one hand, placing the other on Spike’s shoulder. At the touch, he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Both his hands were pressed to the wall behind him.

Buffy looked straight in his deep blue eyes and spoke. “I’m kissing you.”

At the words, his eyes squeezed tight shut, and she heard him take in a sudden, gasping breath, felt it against her lips…

Then her hand on his shoulder was gripping through the t-shirt that she really didn’t like right now, and her eyes were fluttering closed too, and she was kissing him…

Yes. Buffy had definitely made the right decision just now.