Hello. This is my first Buffy FanFiction. I think this is how all we Spuffy-shippers wished Wrecked would begin.


Mm. That felt nice.

What felt nice?

She wasn't exactly sure. She just felt nice. Her whole body felt nice. She felt at peace. Her mind was relaxed and her senses were sluggishly awakening.

She realized she had been sleeping, and her body was begging for a stretch, so stretch she did. As she did so, it occurred to her that the area around her thighs was rather sore. It wasn't painful, though. It felt nice too.

At the same time, some part of her brain noticed the fact that she was naked. Oddly enough, it wasn't very high on her list of things that she cared about right then.

No, her list of things she cared about right then would probably go something like this.

1. Keeping the feeling of niceness.

2. Spike.

She stopped the list. Spike. Spike was number two? What did Spike have to do with anything?

She opened her eyes then, and as she found herself looking at a broken ceiling, her memories came rushing back, forcing their way into her head in random flashes.

"I'm in love with you!"

"You came back wrong!"

"What, are you afraid I'm gonna-"

And then she had kissed him.

She. Buffy. The Slayer. She had kissed him.

Him. Spike. The vampire.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer had kissed Spike the vampire.

Buffy had kissed Spike. They had proceeded to make out against a wall and then it was all a blur. Pleasure. Gasping. Screaming. Moaning. Calling out the other's name. Several times over. And over. And over.

So what did that have to do with the ceiling being broken, anyway?

She sat up then, surveying the damage of the room they were in. Beside her, Spike's equally naked form stirred out of sleep. How had she not been aware of his presence before?

"When did the building fall down?" She honestly didn't remember. She couldn't think how they had gotten into what appeared to be the basement- yes, those were stairs over there. They were in the basement. And the ceiling was broken and the walls had almost all collapsed. They were surrounded by rubble and - she flinched - wood. She decided it was a miracle Spike hadn't been staked accidentally during their activities last night. She hadn't even noticed all the wood until now. Maybe he had. That was good.

"Dunno." Spike's lazy tone cut through her inner monologue. Just the sound of his voice sent shivers up her spine all over again, bringing back memories of the night before. "Must have been some time between the first time, and the…" He paused. "Last time," he decided.

She stretched again, laying back down on the ground. Her leather coat was nearby, but she didn't feel the need to cover herself. It wasn't like he hadn't seen it all from at least ten different angles last night.

"My legs hurt," she declared.

"You're welcome," he said, stretching out next to her. "You did quite a number on me yourself."

"A number," she repeated. Then she giggled. It was something she hadn't done in a long time. "A very high number." She looked over at him to see his reaction.

He wasn't smirking, like she had expected. Rather, he was looking at her in awe.

"What?" she asked.

"You laughed," he stated fearfully, like she would try to deny it or punch him in the nose.

She sighed, and moved over to put her head on his chest. "I guess I did." His entire body tensed up in surprise, but he quickly relaxed. A few seconds later, she felt his long fingers stroking her hair.

"It's morning," he said.

She nodded against his bare skin. "Mm."

She heard him open his mouth to say something else, but hesitate. "Pet," he began, "how do you feel?"

She had to think about it. "I feel," she said finally. "I feel," she said again. Then she smiled. "I feel sore. Exhausted. Satisfied. Comfortable. Nice."

He sat up, forcing her to move. His gaze washed over her face, and he smiled too. "I guess I must have done something right," he said. "A smile, a laugh, and you feeling something all in one sitting."

She could only nod as she moved her hand forward to gently caress his face. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, and it struck her how vulnerable he was right then. If she said the wrong thing now- it could ruin their… something-ship. Frenemy-with-benefits-ship? She had no idea. But it didn't matter. What mattered is that she couldn't hurt him now without ruining it, possibly beyond repair. He would throw his walls up so high that she'd never be able to get past them again. And she would do the same to him.

The Slayer in her was insisting that that was how it was supposed to be. They weren't supposed to be frenemies with benefits. They were just supposed to be enemies. Mortal enemies. In fact, they shouldn't be anything, because he should be dust because his chip wasn't working on her. They shouldn't be worrying about walls or feelings. She should just hurt him now so this never happened again. She was the Slayer. She should not be sleeping with a vampire. No matter how hot he looks naked and with his hair all tousled like that.

However, the Buffy in her was stronger. At least right now. When she had first come back, she was living by the Slayer's rules and the Slayer's only, because that was the only way she could go on living. If she tried to bring her humanity into the mix she'd just end up in bitter tears and that wasn't helpful to anyone. But now the Buffy in her was happy, or at least happier than she'd ever been since she came back, so she could shove the Slayer aside and let her real personality take over once more.

"Shouldn't you be getting back?"

Spike's voice once again broke her thoughts. She looked at him. "Back where?"

"Home. To the Nibblet."

She frowned. She had forgotten about Dawn. There- Dawn was now number three on her list of things she cared about.

There was amusement in Spike's tone when he spoke next. "What are the first two, luv?"

"Did I say that out loud?" she asked. His answering smirk was enough for her. Oops. "Oh. Well… keeping the feel of niceness, and you."

"So you care about me now?" He wasn't taunting, or smug. He was sincerely wondering.

"I do." She didn't bother trying to explain how she had suspected that she had always cared for him, or in what ways she did and didn't care for him, and how exactly those ways worked and what they meant- she just cared.

"How so?" She had seen the words coming before they even left his mouth.

"Would you be upset if I told you I really had no idea?"

"It depends," he said. "Do you care about my sexual abilities, or about me?"

"Both?" she tried. "I mean, I care for you, obviously, but after last night, I can't help but appreciate your sexual abilities as well."

"Obviously?" He looked hopeful. Unnervingly hopeful. "You care for me obviously?"

"Spike…"

"I'm sorry, luv. I don't mean to push you. I just want to know what last night meant to you."

Buffy ran a hand through her hair. Doing so made her remember how many times she and Spike had done that to each other last night. "I'm not sure. It gave me whatever this nice feeling is, so that's good, right?"

He took her hands, and the Slayer in her flinched, sensing an emotional speech coming. "Buffy," he began, and she was grateful he wasn't calling her Slayer, because that would make the Slayer want to respond. "Buffy, last night was amazing. One of the best nights of my life. And not just because it's a whole new experience doing it with a willing human, a human with super powers and unexpected muscles at that, but because it was with you. It was with someone that actually means something to me. It wasn't just mindless sex. It was-"

"Spike." She knew what he was going to say.

"Making love."

She pulled her hands out of his. She couldn't help it. It was too much.

"Slayer-" he started, but she held her hand up.

"Don't call me that."

"Why the bloody hell not?" He was getting upset now.

"Because the Slayer isn't supposed to be sleeping with a vampire!" The words left her mouth before she could consider the effect she'd have on him.

She saw the look in his eyes crumble before hardening. He had something to say, but she was not going to let him go and make his stupid assumptions before knowing the whole truth.

"Listen to me, Spike. Please," she said. He gave her a jerky nod. "I care for you. I do. I don't know what that means yet, so I can't tell you until I figure it out for myself. But for me, last night was- phenomenal. I was able to forget that I'm a Slayer and you're a vampire. I could just be Buffy, and you could just be Spike. Two people making love- with a building falling down around them, but making love nonetheless."

He caught it. "Making love?"

"Making love," she said firmly. "Last night was more than mindless sex for me, too. I don't love you, but I care for you. More than a Slayer should. And enough that I'm willing to disregard Slayer rules."

"You've never followed Slayer rules by the book, pet." His tone was light, his eyes shining.

"Well, I'm making my own now. Rule number one," she said, "Don't kill vampires or demons if they can't actually hurt people or aren't and often help you patrol."

"Hey, I can hurt you," he said. He sounded offended. "You're a person."

She frowned. "Last night you were telling me I came back wrong."

He scoffed. "I was high on the fight. Nothing's bleedin' wrong with you, luv. You'll see. We'll go to Glinda to make sure of it."

She smiled. "Rule number two- oh, to hell with the rules."

Spike smirked at her. "I like that way of thinking." Then, finally, finally, they could no longer keep their hands off each other, and they were kissing and he was pulling her onto his lap - his very naked lap - and she couldn't believe how they had managed to go this long without touching each other, especially when they hadn't covered themselves in any way since waking up, and she guessed it must have been just because they had more important things to talk about, and it was good that they did, but oh, Spike was doing that thing with his tongue again, and all rational thought fled her mind.

Some thirty minutes later they were yet again lying side by side in the rubble, except this time she was wrapped in Spike's arms and making no move to get away.

"Luv?"

"Mm?"

"You think the Bit's okay?"

Crap. She had forgotten about Dawn. Again. "I don't know," she said. "Willow's been there, so-"

He cut her off, pushing her off of him and reaching for his jeans. "Get your clothes on. Let's go."

She frowned. "Huh?"

"Clothes, pet. Those pieces of fabric you put on your body to cover your skin- not that I'm complainin', but I don't think you'd fancy waltzing into your sister's sight in just your birthday suit-"

"Why the sudden rush?"

"I'm surprised you're not." He had buttoned his jeans and was now searching for his shirt. "You've been gone all night and left her with Red. Not the wisest plan."

"What's wrong with Willow?"

He tossed a pile of her clothes over to her. "Just feelin' uneasy," he said. "And even so, Nibblet needs you, not Red. You're her sister, and she's probably been feelin' neglected of late."

"Well, maybe she'll forgive me if you're with me," she decided, pulling on her clothes.

He froze in the midst of pulling on his duster, so it hung off of his shoulder. "What?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "She adores you. I think if we told her about last night- a very, very censored version of it - she'd be ecstatic."

Spike didn't look any less shocked. "You'd tell her?"

"Well, sure. I mean, I'd have to have some reason you were suddenly hanging around all the time. I might be able to fool Xander, but not Dawn."

"Hanging around-?"

Buffy stood up, now fully clothed, and walked over to Spike to pull on his duster the rest of the way before taking his face in her hands. "Spike, last night was the first thing since I got back to make me feel and remember what's it's like to live and be loved. If I'm going to be able to take care of Dawn and be able to get through life, I think I'm going to need your help. You made that clear last night."

He leaned in and kissed her quickly. "I love you."

"I know."

His jaw fell open. She knows--! he mouthed. She knew he was surprised, she had just accepted the fact that he loved her and wasn't just deluding himself.

"Let's go," she said, tugging on his arm. They made their way upstairs, but had to stop in the doorway of the house and frown, in Buffy's case, or curse, in Spike's.

"Oh, balls."

The sun was up.

END.


Review if you wish. I'm thinking of doing a couple more separate oneshots and then moving onto a full-length chapter story, so I'd appreciate it if you'd let me know if I'm any good. Thanks!