A/N: Hey, this is my second Buffy and Spike story, but my first time writing a pwp :P So I hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: All rights go to Joss Whedon and Co. However, I kidnapped Spike, and he's chained in my bathtub, so he's mine. … Yes he is. Don't look at me like that.

--

"No Spike, let me see," Buffy said as she reached up under the vampire's shirt. The vampire she was currently straddling after having tackled him to the ground. Honestly, she was worried about his ribs, she was, but the feel of the man, she was currently very intimately pressed against, and the sliver of skin her hand was exposing, was making her head think all sorts of crazy, wicked, and oh so delicious things.

But honestly, she was worried about his ribs. She was.

"Buffy, it's fine," Spike replied, removing her hand, as even the tiniest feel of her warm fingers was sending sparks down to his very underused package. And he really didn't need to start sporting a woody when she was sitting just like that on him. After all, soul or no soul, he was still a man, and she was still the hottest woman he had ever seen.

"Spike…," she tried to protest, but it came out more of a throaty whisper of plea, and she wasn't really protesting that he wouldn't let her check out his injuries, more that he wouldn't let her check him out.

"Now that's hot."

As one they both remembered they weren't alone in the graveyard, but instead were being very closely watched by a couple of horny, pubescent teenage girls who probably had sex dreams about Xander, Spike, and even Andrew every night, amongst all the nightmares, of course.

Buffy quickly jumped off Spike and straightened her skirt, trying to appear casual, but failing miserably as she looked over at Spike standing up and realized his stomach was still just barely showing. It wasn't really her fault that her tongue came out to lick her suddenly much too dry lips, and it wasn't really her fault that her hand automatically reached towards that bone just above his pelvis, was it? I mean, really, his parents ought to be blamed for producing such a marvellously stunning man, and Drusilla ought to be blamed for making him look as if from marble.

However, thoughts of Drusilla were not exactly making her leap for joy, so, instead, she turned on the girls and made them do work. Better for them to be occupied, and Spike too, than for them to be contemplating her nonexistent sex life with the sexy, bleached blonde vampire.

Her eyes followed him as he stalked the girls. She couldn't even see him half the time, he was so fully encased in darkness, but she knew. Even without relying on her enhanced Slayer skills she knew exactly where he was, what position he was in, and how he moved. She didn't have to see him to be able to tell you that he was standing 25 feet to her right and staring intently at Kennedy, judging the best method of attack. She just knew.

A lot of people tried to tell her that that sixth Spike sense was actually love. That she was in love with Spike. William the Bloody. Ha. She knew better than that too. She wasn't in love with him. That wasn't a strong enough word. She was completely, irrevocably attached and mated to the man, yet she couldn't admit that to him, and she most certainly couldn't admit that to her friends. Admitting it to herself took all of her willpower not to jump back into the No-Backbone-Scared-To-Death bubble she'd planted herself in long before Spike got on the Buffy track. No, Buffy knew. It all came back to Angel, and his soul vs. Spike's soul, and whether or not loving Spike meant losing her identity, her independence, and even more, her heart.

Buffy was right. Hiding in the dark, although lonely, was really the only way to go.

If only her vibrator was cutting it these days.

Sure, she managed to achieve an orgasm, every two out of five times she tried, but with Spike it was every fifteen out of ten times he tried. Hell, all he had to do was look at her and her panties were so wet she had mini orgasms just thinking about his huge cock and what that man could do with his tongue. Mmm, Spike tongue, tongue of Spike… Gah. It had to be easier than this.

Buffy was so lost in thought about Spike's extraordinary penis that she didn't even notice the flying stake until it hit her in the head. How's that for on your game?

"Owww! What the fuck?" She yelled, looking directly at Rona, who was so obviously the guilty party, what with being the only one with a stake and also the one that was laughing uncontrollably. Buffy thought to herself that if it had've been her accidentally hitting her boss in the head with a stake, she'd be running the other direction, not laughing it up.

"This funny to you? You could've put my eye out!" Buffy's eyes were caught by the vampire in the shadows doubled over in laughter, and she had to stop and think. Yes, Rona could've put her eye out, quite easily if it had've been any lower. But, Buffy was so distracted by thoughts of Spike that she just got hit in the head with a stake. … Who was she more angry at? Slowly, she rolled her eyes and started chuckling too. Quite quickly the other girls joined in until they were all laughing about how stupid it was.

"Alright," Buffy managed to get out between giggles, "that's enough. Get back to work. Vi, Molly, back to your turn."

*~*

4:07 am.

The red dial of the clock was taunting her with the time. It was 4:07 am and she still hadn't managed to fall asleep. She'd gotten out the vibrator twice, and managed to get an orgasm the second time, but that didn't calm her quite enough to sleep. She was too keyed up. And she knew exactly why. There was a vampire two floors below that could put her to sleep so easily she wondered if he was given some special talent by God himself. Ironic, huh?

Sighing, Buffy flung the covers back and sat up. No use even attempting to sleep when she had to be up for work in three hours anyway. And even then, if you wanted the bathroom, 4:30 was probably your best bet.

Buffy headed downstairs to get a glass of milk or something to eat before her shower. Trying to kill some hours, really. On her way into the kitchen, she peeked into the living room to check that all the girls were sound asleep on their makeshift beds. Everyone was, with a couple of the girls talking lowly in their sleep, and a few tossing and turning. Buffy wished she could take their nightmares away, but honestly, she couldn't make hers stop, so their's didn't really stand a Buffy-chance-in-hell.

Turning towards the kitchen, she headed straight to the fridge, but stopped short when she realized someone was already there. "Oh…morning, Spike."

Spike turned around from his perusal of the leftovers and grinned at Buffy. "What are you doing up this early? Couldn't sleep, love?"

"Nah. Too many … nightmares," she shrugged and reached around him for the yogurt, shivering a little from the tiny waves of electricity that raced along his skin into hers.

Spike raised his eyebrow at her very obvious shiver, but just passed it off as cold and went back to perusing. "Me neither. Bloody hell, don't they ever leave anything decent to eat late at night? They're like bleeding voltures." He snatched a bag of blood and turned to fix it in the microwave.

Buffy laughed, "I don't know if you've noticed this, what with the choice of blood for dinner and all, but you're still a vampire, dumbass."

"Yes, Buffy, I don't think I've forgotten my little aversion to the sun, but food tastes good. And last night they made that extra spicy chili, which I can taste especially well." Spike glared at her mockingly.

"You're so weird, Spike. Anyone ever tell you that?"

"Not on a daily basis or anything, right?" he responded sarcastically. "I'm just not as poofy as Angel. He's the weird one, most of us actually like the taste of human food."

Buffy just shrugged off his jab at Angel, but it did make her think of their souls again. Was Spike's more real because it was permanent? Or was their varying degrees of real? Is a soul a soul no matter what? Or was Angel's really just a curse and that's why it was so easy for him to change and to leave her?

"What are you staring at? Do I have some blood on my face?"

Buffy looked up to realize her head had tilted to the side, and she was staring intently at Spike. Shaking herself, she mumbled sorry and looked down at her yogurt.

Spike walked over to her and gently tilted her head back up to meet his gaze. "What is it, love? You looked… I don't know, curious about something."

Buffy's eyes widened, not really sure how to get out of this one, and her eyes darted around the room unseeingly. "Umm.. It was … nothing. Don't worry about it. I really should go take a shower before the voltures wake up. See yah later, Spike." She turned and abandoned her half-eaten container of yogurt and flew out of the kitchen.

Spike stared after her, wondering what the bloody hell was running through her mind lately.

*~*

Two nights later, and it was starting to become routine, just as surely as her eyes were starting to droop and Principal Wood was starting to watch her more closely, as she fell asleep on two students today. She just couldn't sleep! And the problem was… she couldn't figure out why! Yes, she was horny. Yes, she was in the middle of the apocalypse to end all. Yes, she kinda, sorta, well… really, missed the vampire living two floors below her. And Yes, she did currently have a gaggle of scared, horny, freckle faced Slayerettes in her charge, but honestly, was all that enough to keep her up at night?

Short Answer, Miss Summers, or would you like the smart-alecky one?

She groaned at her own betraying thoughts, which at 4:30 in the morning, after almost 96 hours straight without sleep, weren't exactly being nice to her. Rather, they were kind bitchy. Must be that horny issue.

With a rather putupon sigh, Buffy reached into the fridge and grabbed the Tab. Pouring herself a glass, she sat at the island, with her head in her hands, and her lower half throbbing with need. She was so close to her vampire she could practically smell him, and dear fuck, her nose was aching to be a whole hell of a lot closer. Her mouth was watering to taste him. Her fingers itched to caress his skin. And her pussy was just begging to let him caress hers.

Buffy banged her head on the countertop, once, twice, three times, before standing up and shooting back her drink of Tab. "Fuck this shit!" she whisper-screamed at the air in the kitchen before turning around and grabbing the doorknob to the basement.

Then she froze.

"What the hell?" she thought to her hand, which for some reason wasn't attached to her body and wouldn't let her turn the handle. "Oh, come on. Please?"

But it wasn't really that her hand was suddenly disconnected. It was just that her head and her heart and her body all wanted different things. And all three were warring inside her to be the dominant desire. She knew what she wanted, sex, her body definitely wanted sex. Her tired eyes wanted sex. Hell, her boss wanted her to have sex with the sexy British vampire if that put her to sleep at night. Not that he knew the real reason she was so tired.

Her brain on the other hand. Well, her brain was so goddamn logical, that it wanted to march down the stairs, wake the vampire up, and … god help her, talk! Buffy Summers didn't talk. It was simple really: want, take, have. Faith had taught her that, and it worked oh-so-well with her and Spike up until that point, right?

"Dammit."

Now her heart wanted to talk to. But it didn't want to hammer out all the issues that her and Spike had, all the nasty little words, all the cuts and bruises, all the near-misses, and sometimes-hits, that the two of them had stashed between them like millions of invisible elephant fairies, in tutus, with unicorn horns. Nope, her heart was on an entirely different warpath. It wanted to… well. She knew what it wanted to do, but her brain was still not cooperating enough to allow her to even think the three little words her heart was screaming at her to admit.

On the verge of giving up, and so tired she could barely stand, Buffy leaned on the door, her head to the frigid wood, and just barely breathed, "Spike…"

Not even two seconds later, she was being shoved backwards, almost losing her balance, but the island was mysteriously there for her to grip onto, as Spike surged upstairs.

Buffy's eyes went as big as saucers as she stared into his deep blue ones. "Umm… hi?" she managed to mumble, scared as hell, horny as anything, and desperately wanting to flee upstairs to a nice cold shower.

"Did you just say my name?" Spike asked, as if he didn't have advanced vampire hearing and had probably heard her as if she had whispered it next to his ear.

"Umm… could I even get away with saying no at this point?" She looked down, suddenly defeated. What were they fighting against anyway? Her mind did a mental double take and she actually felt it slap her upside the head. Not them, Miss Summers, you know better than that.

Yeah, she knew better than that. It wasn't them, it was her. Only her. Spike was all gung-ho Spike and Buffy land, whereas she wasn't. Obviously. But her friends, her sister, her calling… they all stood between her and Spike, and all of the millions of invisible elephant fairies too. She had no idea how to move them from where they had been, to where they stood, to where she wanted them to go. Focusing on the past was counter-productive, but wasn't ignoring it even worse?

Spike looked at her, his head tilted, and smiled softly. "No, you could get away with it. But I'd know you were lying, love."

She laughed. And it wasn't just her usual nervous giggling, or her let's-cover-up-the-worst-so-the-girls-don't-know-we're-actually-losing laugh. This was a high, tinkling sound, genuinely happy. Spike was the only person who had been able to make her laugh like that in an extremely long time.

Okay, Brain, here's the thing, heart and body exist too. And they're big. Maybe even bigger than you. So… you wanna back off a little and let me trust something else for a change? I wanna laugh again.

Buffy grabbed the Tab that was still sitting on the counter and nervously gulped right from the bottle. The drink was so big it filled her whole cheeks and she held it there a moment before swallowing, to buy herself time, because at this point Spike was just staring at her, very curious as to what she was thinking about. The problem was his vampire sense of smell and her currently over-active pussy/heart/brain battle inside of her.

"Do you want to have sex with me? Like right now?" She was facing away from him when she blurted it, but she whirled around when the only answer was a very loud silence, and she actually realized what she said. "I didn't… umm… well… Spike?"

Spike was currently doing his best what-the-fuck impersonation and was just staring at her with his head still tilted, and his eyes slightly cross-eyed. Slowly he raised his head to a straight position and looked her square in the eye. "Wanna run that one by me again, pet?" But even as he said it, Buffy's eyes drifted lower and noticed a twitching going on in his pants. He was definitely intrigued, if he had heard her right.

"I can't sleep." Buffy was trying to process thoughts and reasoning, and desires, and really, that was the main reason she wanted to, for sleep, so that she wouldn't get fired, and… it made sense didn't it?

"You… can't sleep?" Spike's went from partially horny to full on confused in 3.5 milliseconds. "What the bloody hell are you talking about, Buffy?"

"I'm so goddamn horny I can't sleep anymore, Spike!" There she had said it. That was her reasoning. So… her body won. Brain issues were set aside until daylight… so to speak, and heart reasonings couldn't be brought into it, cause that opened another door full of pain, anger, and heartbreak. Body it is.

"So you want me to have sex with you? So you can bloody well sleep?" Spike processed what she had said, popped his neck, and then glared at her. Twitching in pants, completely gone.

"So we're back to you then, huh? You want me to scratch your itch cause you're so goddamn horny that you can't sleep without some help from ol' punching bag, Spikey, huh?"

Buffy stammered, not really sure where this had come from, or what she had said wrong. "Umm… Yeah, well… no. Not just cause of that… Spike, I mean, if you don't want to. I wouldn't…well, the thing is, I mean, … Spike?"

Spike turned around, grabbed the door handle and spoke through his gritted teeth. "Last I checked you had two perfectly good vibrators upstairs, if that isn't working for you, prostitutes still exist in this country." With that he walked back down into the basement and left Buffy standing there, mouth gaped open, head spinning, trying to connect all the dots.

That's when it hit her, maybe she should've went with Brain after all.

*~*

Two hours later, Buffy was laying in bed thanking her lucky stars that it was Saturday today because she didn't have to work and the girls slept in.

However, she was also still very very horny.

Which sucked, because Spike was mad at her for being horny. Or for being horny, but not wanting all of him. Or really, for being Buffy and taking the easiest way out of everything that always ending in Spike getting hurt. She was an idiot.

Which was why, she had a plan!

It was a fairly spectacular plan, now that all three parts of her were working together to get her the man, have the love of her friends, and catch a couple hours of sleep. So that was why at quarter to seven in the morning, Buffy was asleep in her bed, with a notebook on her belly entitled, "How To Get Your Vampire And Still Maintain a Human Life in 5 Steps."

With a catchy title like that, how could it not work?

*~*

Step 1: Convince your friends that he's the man of your dreams.

Buffy figured that Xander would be the hardest target, and therefore the first one she should win over, so on Monday morning she walked over to the soon to be library with two matching paper bags of chicken sandwich, pop, and bits 'n' bites.

Walking onto the construction site, Buffy was fully engrossed in her task of finding Xander. So engrossed that she missed the half-naked, very sweaty guys currently working their every bone around her. Well… she almost missed them. Until she came to a guy a couple years younger than her, whose skin rippled as he struggled to lift the beam; a bead of sweat gliding down his tanned back. Buffy swallowed and her let her eyes roam his entire body, until a voice behind her cleared their throats, amusement very evident.

"See something you like, Buff?" Xander asked, and Buffy gaped cause he had accidentally quoted Spike while Spike was naked and wrapped in a bed sheet that time… what was she thinking about? Right, Xander, lunch. Spike. … Not sex. Definitely not sex. Stupid vibrators.

She grinned at Xander and held up the paper bag in her hand. "I brought sustenance?"

--

Xander and Buffy sat in silence on the steps of the library, eating their lunch and watching the people around them. Well, Xander was watching. Buffy was too busy attempting to try and find a way to tell Xander that she was interested in Spike romantically. She was opening her mouth, and every time she couldn't find the words to say it, she shoved her sandwich in there, and chewed unhappily.

After 5 or 6 times happening, Xander finally looked at her and said, "Enough already, Buffy! Just spit it out, whatever it is must be important if you're over here for lunch and you're fidgetting like Willow on a coffee high."

Buffy sighed, and then plunged on ahead. "Umm… how do you feel about me being in love with Spike?"

Then she stopped.

Sandwich midway to her mouth.

Pop in the other hand, ready to go.

Eyes wide, mouth hanging open.

And the biggest feeling of shock she'd ever experienced flashed across her skin.

Xander laughed at her expression. "Nice fish impersonation."

Scratch that, the second biggest feeling of shock she'd ever experienced.

"Umm…what!?!" she asked, looking at Xander as if he'd grown three heads.

Xander just shrugged, "People grow up, Buffy. And if anyone has grown up the most in the past year, it's me. Or maybe you, but I'm going with me for my speech, kay?" Buffy nodded, too shocked to even laugh at his lame jokes.

"Look… I realized a couple of things this year. When I left Anya at the alter, I made the biggest realization of my entire life: I'm an idiot. But I'm an idiot who is not my parents. I didn't know it at the time, and it was too late when I did. I don't want you to make that same mistake.

"I also realized that people, and demons, can change. When Anya killed those frat boys, but then asked to take it back, she didn't have a soul. I didn't know Anya when she was a demon, I only knew her as having a heartbeat, and a warm pulse. I conveniently chose to forget who she was, until I was faced with the reality very up close and personal. But then I grew up. Like I said, I'm an idiot."

He stopped and took a sip of his drink and then turned to fully face Buffy, "Look, I'm not his biggest fan. Even without him being a vampire, he's a douche. But he loves you. He got a soul for you, Buffy. You didn't even ask. Yes, he screwed up, but I don't know the dynamics of your relationship. I don't know what happened. Angel can never, ever say the same. Just think about it."

Buffy smiled, and wiped a tear out of the corner of her eye. "Thanks, Xand. You have no idea how much that means to me." So it was going to be easier than she thought. The hardest one, besides Giles who was somewhere following a lead on some Watcher that may or may not be alive, was done and taken care of. She finally started to feel like this was something she could do. She could be with Spike.

As she stood up and turned to go back to her office for the rest of the day, Xander stopped her. "Buffy… we're not always the nicest when it comes to you. I get it, and I'm sorry. But if he's what you really want, then please, don't let us stand in your way. It's time to fess up to Spike how you feel and to hell with the consequences."

Buffy smiled, "Xander? Maybe it's time you take your own advice."

*~*

When Buffy got home that evening, she went straight to her room, grabbed her journal, and crossed off everything on the list. Underneath, in all capitals, she wrote:

TELL SPIKE YOU LOVE HIM. IT'S THAT SIMPLE.

*~*

Except, it didn't turn out to be that simple. It wasn't that she didn't want to, she really did, but her and Spike were never alone for the next five days. Everytime she attempted to get him alone so they could talk, he made up some excuse and left quickly. Buffy was getting frustrated, because she had screwed up big time and he wasn't giving her the chance to apologize. So, it was all Spike's fault, really.

It was Saturday night again, and Buffy had made sure that all the girls could go out and have a night off. They were shocked to their very core when Buffy came bounding down the stairs, in sweatpants and a tank, rather than her usual patrolling gear, and told them to take it easy and dance the night away.

Honestly, it was a ploy to get them the hell out of her house.

Xander and Anya were having a 'date' night, or what Buffy secretly referred to as 'Xander getting off his ass and apologizing like hell to Anya til she took him back' night. Willow had offered to supervise the girls, but Buffy thought she was actually just looking to get to know Kennedy better. Even Andrew ended up tagging along, happy that Buffy let him be free for once without questions asked.

While they were gone, and before Spike got back from his 'Spike Time' whatever the hell that meant, Buffy ran upstairs and showered. She fluffed her hair, put on some mascara, blush, and the pinkest gloss she could find.

Then she discovered a problem.

What do you wear when you were confessing your love to a vampire slash attempting to seduce him into forgiving you for trying to bluntly seduce him?

Did Vicki's Secret even make underwear for that?

But she was the Slayer, and she had been making boys drool and kicking ass for seven years. She could handle it.

Standing in front of her closet, Buffy fingered every article of clothing she had and either maybe'd it, or discarded it completely. After three trips through her entire selection, she had it narrowed down to two outfits. One was a short denim skirt with a burgundy tank top that wasn't too revealing, but hugged her curves in a way that looked extremely sexy without being a slut.

The other one was what Buffy figured would be more Spike's style, but also was way more obvious. It was a pair of dark black jeans, low slung, with a red strapless top. Spike would adore it, those colors always did drive him wild, but it wasn't exactly saying 'I love you, please forgive me'. To her, it said, 'I may have messed up the other day, but I don't care and still want to fuck you hard', which wasn't the exact message she was trying to send across.

In the end she went with the first top, and the dark jeans, cause they made her ass look good. She chose the skimpiest black and red lace bra and panties she owned, because he couldn't see those right away and she wanted it to be a present. He did have a habit of, ahem, unwrapping her.

Just as she was shimmying into her jeans, the downstairs door opened and closed, and the heavy tread of Spike's Doc Martens could be heard across the hallway floor.

"Hello?" he called up the stairs, confusion evident in his voice. The house hadn't been this quiet since Buffy had been dead.

Buffy stuck her head out of her bedroom door and called down that she'd be there in a minute, but almost immediately she could feel his anger taking hold and his body stiffening. She could picture exactly what he was doing as if she was there in the room with him. Quickly, before he escaped into the basement, she checked her lip gloss, slipped into her heels, and gave a little oomph to her hair with her hands. Then she took a deep breath and gave a little prayer upwards, "Please, God, you owe me. Let this work."

With that, she walked out of her bedroom and down the stairs. She tried to make it look a little sultry, but she felt a little silly. And Spike was glaring in the opposite direction, anyway, so she huffed a little, and cleared her throat.

"Did you have a good time?" Buffy asked his cold back, not even sure where he was, but figured that a little small talk might help him to loosen up a little more.

"Yeah, bloody fucking riot. Where are the girls, love?" Spike's hands balled into fists when he said 'love', and she could hear a slight curse under his breath. Obviously he hadn't meant to call her that, but even so, she was quite pleased that his usual pet names for her hadn't disappeared because of his anger.

"Oh, I sent them out for a little girl's thing. Willow went with them," Buffy replied flippantly, leaning casually on the railing for the stairs. Spike had yet to turn around, but her skin was already electrified just being this close. His anger didn't ebb her lust for him any, Spike was always at his best when he was angry with her.

At this, Spike turned around, shocked, "You sent the girls out? With Willow for protection?" He looked at her like she had lost her mind, and for the first time she felt a little niggling that maybe her plan would somehow backfire on her again.

However, Buffy was not one to be meek and submissive in the face of his scarcasm or anger, so she raised her chin, and stared at him defiantly. "Well, yeah, they needed a night to unwind. This isn't exactly the easiest lifestyle, Spike. What's it to you?"

Spike's eyes hardened, and he shook his head. "Not my business, really. I'm just the crazy vampire muscle in the basement. You're the boss, love." But this time when he said 'love' he said it purposefully, the word dripping with venom. With that he turned on his heel and started skulking back towards the basement.

Buffy's widened and knew it was time for something drastic. "I'm sorry." Well, that was drastic, but not really what she was going for. Why wasn't her brain cooperating with her mouth, exactly?

Nevertheless, it was enough to get Spike to stop, but he didn't turn back around. "What are you going on about now, Buffy? I'm too tired for this bloody shit."

Buffy nodded, although he couldn't see, and took a big gulp of air. "I'm so sorry. For so many things." She slowly started walking towards him, but a small growl emanating from his chest stopped her in mid step. "Okay," she agreed. "Where do I begin?" she wondered aloud.

Spike sighed, "Just say it, Buffy. Or I'm leaving, for good this time." He turned back to look at her, "I can't be the whipping boy anymore. I can't deal with the whiplash your mood swings get me. And I will not be used as a personal sex toy when the electronic kind stop working."

Buffy shook her head vigorously, "No Spike! God, no. That's not what I want. That's not what I meant the other night. I just… I said it all wrong and you thought I meant going back to last year, but I don't want to go back. I want to go forward."

Spike was turned fully to her now, confusion etched into the lines on his face. "What do you mean, go forward?"

She took a deep breath, grateful that for now he seemed to be staying put. "Well… with you. I want to move forward with you. You know… take the next step?" She looked up at him hopefully through her lashes, praying he wouldn't walk away from her again.

"I'm listening. But Buffy, love, what is the next step? You refuse to tell your friends. You don't even love me! I can't bloody well take it if you hurt me again. If you do, you better be following it up with a stake to the heart." Spike's eyes were saddened, old, and on the verge of tears. Buffy knew that it killed him more than anything to open back up to her, because as far as they'd come, they just weren't best friends anymore and she was entirely to blame for that.

"I'm not lying to you, and I'd never hurt you again, Spike. What I did last year… God, I'll never be able to take it back." Buffy started walking towards him again, and this time he didn't growl. "But, Spike, my friends already know how I feel about you. They're okay with it. Xander told me to go ahead and live for once, because without you, I'm not living. I'm barely surviving. Don't you understand that you're my oxygen?"

Spike rolled his eyes at the irony, a tiny smile lighting up his features. But he was hesitant, and the thought of giving himself fully to her again was scaring the bejesus out of him. "Yeah, I hear you say it…"

She sighed, so disappointed in herself, that she had reduced such an amazingly caring, loyal, and cocky man into this scared little boy in front of her. "Spike… I love you." His head snapped up and his eyes locked on hers, searching their depths for the truth. She made sure that the only things they were saying was her love and her need for him. "I am so in love with you I can't think straight. I can't sleep at night, I can't breathe." At this point, she was right in front of him, and she reached up and layed her hand on his cheek. "I love you," she whispered again, this time right beside his lips. "Please tell me I'm not too late."

Without speaking a word, Spike leaned down and their lips met in their first kiss full of love. Buffy clung to his shirt, one arm thrown around his neck, and Spike held her waist to him so hard she was practically bent in half. Tongues darted out and danced around each other, meeting and sending shivers down each spine, the other feeling it as if it was their own body.

"God, Buffy, of course you're not too late. How can you even bloody well think that I'd stop loving you?" Spike pulled back enough to look into her eyes and raise one eyebrow.

She giggled, and attacked his lips once again. Spike started tugging on the bottom of her shirt and she stepped back long enough to yank it over her head and throw it into the darkness. Spike growled when the sight of her black and red lace covered breasts were revealed and Buffy smirked, slowly stepping forward and running her hands up his tee shirt clad chest, across his neck, and down his arms, taking his duster off in the process. Then her hands retraced their path and slipped up under his shirt. His arms rose into the air, his eyes never leaving hers as she pulled it over his head and threw it to join hers.

Spike grabbed her waist and yanked her back to his body, roughly, his head reaching down before she was even within kissing distance. When their lips met again, Spike pulled her down to the floor with him, his shoes being kicked off in the process.

His lips left hers to start a blazing trail down her throat, across her exposed chest, to settle on top of a lace clad breast. "God, I bloody well love this bra, pet. Never, ever take it off." Then he grinned up at her, pulled her into a sitting position, and took her bra off quickly, "except for right now."

She laughed, reaching for his belt buckle, but he swatted her hands away, "this is my game now, love. Be patient." She dramatically fell backwards onto the tile floor and sighed. Spike looked up at her, his mouth teasing her nipple, and his eyebrow flew into his hairline. Buffy glared at him and arched her chest up into his mouth to tell him to get moving. "Pushy, aren't we?"

Buffy wiggled as his tongue darted out to lick up the underside of her boob, then skipping over the nipple entirely, the peak just begging to be sucked. A breathy moan escaped her lips as his tongue went back down the other side, just barely grazing the side. "Please, Spike…" she whimpered, too keyed up to care about being the dominant one. "Lick me…"

As soon as the words escaped her lips, Spike's mouth covered her nipple, and sucked, a low, resonant growl coming from within him. The vibrations and the ministrations of his tongue caused Buffy to arch completely off the ground and a low hiss to escape her.

Spike's hands reached down and unbuttoned her jeans, pushing them as far as he could, then sitting up and yanking them off the rest of the way. He took a moment to gaze in lust at her matching panties then they were yanked out of the way. His eyes landed on her pink pussy, shaved and glistening with her want for him. He licked his lips and smirked at her before leaning down and licking from one end to the other, pressing against her clit for a second, before sitting back on his heels. His face was shiny with her juices and he grinned at her like a cat.

"Funny, now take your pants off, Spike." Buffy glared at him, her eyes attempting to look angry through the haze of lust controlling her body. Spike mock saluted her and stood up. His hands travelled agonizingly slowly down his chest until he reached the button for his jeans. He popped it and Buffy's eyes drew even darker, her tongue swiping out to lick her lips.

Spike groaned at the little pink tip and pulled the zipper down, the bulge in his pants aching from being pressed against the cool metal so long. When his cock sprang free, Buffy's eyes widened and she grinned like it was the best present anyone had ever given her. Spike's cock twitch a little at the look on her face and Spike felt extremely proud of himself that he was about to fuck the little minx stretched out on the hallway floor.

He kneeled down between her outstretched legs and then placed both hands on either side of his head, his mouth coming down to capture her lips in a passionate kiss. As soon as their lips touched, he pushed himself inside of her with one, long thrust and both broke apart to gasp at the feeling of being joined again.

"Oh jesus, Spike. Yeah, fuck me, baby." Buffy had never called him a pet name before, not even in sex, and he found it turned him on more than anything else she could say.

His thrusts were hard, short, and fast, with Buffy meeting him every time. Their hips made an audible smacking sound and both groaned at the contact.

"God, Buffy, love, feel so good, pet. Could stay buried in your heat, forever, fuck."

"Spike, yes, so big, so hard, god, missed you. Needed you so bad, god, right there, harder."

Neither stopped talking, each word passing their lips a little breathier with every thrust of Spike's hips. His hand snaked down between them when he felt her walls starting to flutter and he flicked her clit once, and then Buffy was falling. "Fuck, Spike! I love you," she screamed to the ceiling, the three little words sending Spike into his own release right away.

Spike collapsed on top of Buffy, not bothering to hold his weight up, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, breathing heavily, but needing the feel of his body pressed against hers. "I love you so much," she repeated into his hair, and Spike lifted his head enough to stare into her hazel eyes, a lazy smile on his face, and love in his eyes.

"I love you too, Buffy. I love you," he kissed one eyelid, "I love you," the other, "I love you," her nose, "I love you," her cheek, "I love you," her lips.

When breathing became an issue and Buffy pulled back, she finally looked around and then grinned up at Spike. "You know we're still in front of the door, right?"

Spike laughed, lifting himself off of her, and standing up, his erection not entirely gone away. "Yeah, want to move this party into the basement, love?"

Buffy shook her head in the negative, standing up as well, and searching for her clothes. When she had them all gathered, she looked up to find Spike's face crestfallen, and she grinned, "I want to make love to my boyfriend in our bedroom, upstairs."

He snapped his eyes to hers and a smile split his face, "Really?"

"Well…," Buffy said nervously, "if you want to be my boyfriend, that is."

Spike laughed, a full bellied laugh full of joy. "I'd want nothing more, Miss Summers." He grabbed his clothes and then the two of them walked upstairs into her bedroom, continuing where they left off.

*~*

After Willow brought the girls home that night and they were all tucked into their sleeping bags, Willow went through the house shutting off lights and locking doors. Her eyes alighted on the front hall lamp, where it looked like something was hanging off of it. Walking over, she grabbed it and then started laughing.

Holding up Buffy's bra she looked up the stairs and whispered, "It's about fucking time."

--

A/N Well there you have it folks. Took me a whole month to write, but it's up, and I really like it. So be nice to me, but please, leave reviews and tell me what you think!