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No such thing as coincidences	By : All4Spike Category: AtS/BtVS Crossovers > Threesomes/Moresomes > Angel(us)/Buffy/Spike(William) > Angel(us)/Buffy/Spike(William) Views: 6097 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter Five.

Giles yelled for Angel to come and open his weapons cabinet. Spike just stood there, waiting, unable to form a coherent thought. Everything was just becoming too spooky for words. Everyone poured out of the office to see what the new commotion was about, and Angel threaded his way through to the front. “What’s he done now Giles?”

Unable to speak, Giles just handed him the drawing, and pointed to the weapons cabinet. Angel stepped forward, opened the glass door, and took out the broadsword with the three large round green gems in the hilt. Spike gestured him towards Buffy, and in silence Angel passed it over.

Buffy received the sword with a huge smile, but after a few moments the smile faded and was transformed into a frown. “It’s telling me it’s not mine, it’s like you said about the bracelet Spike, I know it’s connected to me, but it isn’t mine.” She laid it across her two hands and held it out to Spike, whose eyebrows rose in surprise.

Slowly, oh so slowly, Spike reached out and took the sword from her. He wrapped both hands around the hilt and looked at Buffy in wonder, “Oh……” he breathed, “Oh God!” He closed his eyes and stood motionless for a few seconds, face twisted in concentration, then a wide grin of sheer delight spread across his face as he opened his eyes and explained, “It’s as if someone wanted to create the most wonderful weapon I could ever have thought of, make it perfect, just for me, and then they did something to make it even better. I feel as if I could conquer the world with this… the power!”

Buffy stepped up to him, and raised her right hand to cup his cheek, looking deep into his eyes. “Spike? Can you tell me what colour your eyes are?”

Uncertain, Spike replied, “blue?… they’re blue aren’t they?”

“Well… yes, usually. They can be so many different shades of blue, they change, but right now? They’re a really deep emerald green.”

Spike thought for a second, then smirked and raised his scarred eyebrow quizzically, “So I’m a regular green eyed monster, eh?”

Buffy thumped him not-so-gently on the chest, “I’m serious Spike! Your eyes have changed colour!”

Giles moved to examine Spike’s face, “She’s right you know, I wonder if it’s an effect of holding the power in the sword? Give it to me, let’s see if they change back.” Spike handed the sword over, and both Giles and Buffy exclaimed as his eyes swiftly reverted to their usual stormy blue. “Well… that’s fascinating!” Giles declared.

Spike turned to Angel, “I hope you don’t mind if I nick your sword Granddad, it hasn’t given me much choice! We’d better keep it secure though until we find the third artefact, have you got a safe in this hotel? One big enough to take it?”

“There’s a safe, Spike, but not big enough for that,” he pointed to the sword.

“Ah… never mind, it’ll just have to hide in plain sight. Giles… it can go back in the cabinet. Niblet? You’d better give Angel your bracelet to put in his safe for now, it’ll remove the temptation to wear it before we’re ready for a trial run… and don’t tell me you’re not tempted, because I know you are. That sword is calling to me now I’ve held it, so I know the bracelet is doing the same thing to you!”

While the sword and bracelet were both being tucked away safely, Spike returned to his chest and picked it up again, continuing towards the stairs. At the top of the first flight, he looked over the balcony and called down, “Angel? You’d better finish that last drawing quickly so we know what we’ve got to find for the Slayer, the way our luck is going it’ll be around here somewhere, just waiting for her. And Slayer? Are you serious about going into training with me?”

“Yes I am. I need to get as strong as I can as soon as I can.”

“Are you prepared to follow my orders about training and diet?”

“Yes!”

“Right then, you’ve been drinking both cola and coffee today. I told you this morning just to drink water for a week, I meant it. Don’t forget, I’ll always be able to tell if you’ve cheated again and make no mistake, there will be consequences. Don’t stay up too late, you need your rest.” He turned his attention to Xander, “As for you Harris, if you want to survive the training schedule I’m going to set for you, you’d better cut out the snacking.” His gaze swept the whole group. “Now I’m going to try to sleep off the bloody migraine I’ve been given as payment for using thrall, so you can all go back to discussing the ‘Spike problem’ behind my back. Let me know when you come to any conclusions, but just remember, as far as I’m concerned, the Slayer’s decision is final.”
Spike returned to his room, dumped his chest, stripped off and climbed back into bed. He was asleep within minutes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This time he was woken by knuckles rapping sharply on his skull. It was still dark outside, and he could sense that dawn was still hours off. “What’s the problem Slayer?”
“I need to get out of here for a while, I need to go and patrol. Angel’s still busy with that parchment and everyone else is asleep. Angel won’t let me out unless you come with me.”

Now his sleepy eyes had adjusted to the dim light, Spike could see that Buffy was flushed and trembling. “You’ve had it again then? I can see why you’d want to get out into the fresh air. I’ll be down in a few minutes, but I’m going to need something to put on my feet. Popping around to the deli without my boots wasn’t a problem, but charging about LA chasing vamps and demons will be a bit harder on the feet.”

She asked defensively, “What do you mean I’ve had it again?”

“The nightmare love, the ‘I’m trapped in a box and it’s dark and I can’t see and I can’t move and I can’t breathe and I’ve got to break my way out and my hands hurt and I’m digging as fast as I can but the soil is suffocating me and why did they bury me alive?’ nightmare. I’ve had it myself a few times, I recognise the signs.”

Tears began to flow down Buffy’s cheeks and she slumped down to sit on the bed, “How much longer am I going to get them? I can’t take much more.”

“Well, mine tailed off after about twenty years. I haven’t had one for a long time now.”

“Twenty years? Oh God!”

“It’s different for everyone love, no telling how long yours might last, you’re going to have to find a way to cope with them and get past the terrors. Come on, let’s go and kick a little demon arse, that’ll make you feel better.” Spike threw off the covers and reached for his jeans, which prompted Buffy to leap up and turn away. “Oh of course, I’m sorry, I forgot. You mustn’t be faced with naked vampire flesh must you? Unless you’re the one ripping the clothes off it, that is.” Spike accused bitterly. “Go on, pick us out a couple of good weapons and ask Angel where he’s hidden my boots, I’ll be right down.”

When Spike reached the lobby wearing his customary all black outfit (minus boots), with his leather duster over his T shirt and a half-fastened black button-up shirt, he found that Buffy had laid out a sword and a long knife in a leather sheath for him. Angel was standing behind the reception desk poring over a map of the city, but the Slayer was nowhere to be seen. Angel looked up, “Buffy’s very twitchy tonight, do you know what’s upset her?”

“She’s had one of her ‘I woke up buried in my coffin’ nightmares. If we can find something for her to kill that’ll put up a bit of a fight, it would be good. She needs to work off some anger and pain. Giving me my bloody boots back would help make that easier.”

Angel reached under the desk and handed over Spike’s beat-up old biker boots, complete with new soles. “How do you feel about tackling a demon nest we’ve just heard of? Accounts are sketchy, so we don’t know what kind of demons they are, but they aren’t playing nice with the locals, so they need to be dealt with.” He flipped the map around and indicated the location. “As far as we know there is just a family group, from three to six of them in this empty warehouse, will that be too many for the pair of you?”

Doing up his boots, Spike nodded, “Sounds about perfect. Where’s the Slayer?”

“She’s gone out to your car with her weapons, I said I’d send you right out.”

“My car’s a right tip, I was living in it drunk for a week or more, you’d better give me a trash bag, she’ll have started chucking stuff out, and I’m going to have to clear it up. I’ll also need some cash for gas, I was running on fumes when I got here.”

Angel rummaged about and then handed over a big black plastic sack and a bundle of notes. “You make sure you take good care of her. Are you certain I shouldn’t come along too?”

“I always take good care of her, that’s what I do. If you come along you’ll cramp her style, if these demons don’t give her enough of a workout she’ll need to find another way to let off steam. That’s what I do too,” Spike shrugged, “it’s a thing.”

“So I heard,” Angel frowned. “You’re one well trained puppy, aren’t you boy? You’re pathetic.”

“Love’s bitch that’s me, you know it, I admit it. How are you doing with that drawing, do you know what we’ve got to look for?”

“Not yet, but whatever it is it’s very fancy, there’s lots of curlicues and squiggles, it just isn’t falling into place yet. I’ll keep working on it. By the way, I didn’t appreciate your rant earlier; there was no need to rub her face in the whole ‘Angel’s still a demon just like me’ thing.”

“That’s just where you’re wrong Peaches, she needed to hear a few home truths. Since she came back everyone is walking on eggshells around her and not being open and straight with her. They’re ignoring what happened to her and expecting her to pick up where she left off and be exactly the same as she was before. It’s freaking her out because she isn’t the same and never will be. She needs honesty and consistency above anything, that’s what I’m giving her. Now I’d better get out there, or she’s liable to go off hunting on her own, and I’d have to waste time tracking her. Keep your ears open for Dawnie. If she has another nightmare Tara will tend to her, but she may need to be woken, that business with Red will have worn her out.”

When Spike reached the car, it was to find a mound of empty bottles and other rubbish on the ground, and a waiting Slayer sitting in the front passenger seat impatiently tapping her fingers. He quickly gathered all the garbage into the bag, tied the neck and flung it into a pile with others waiting for collection, then he tossed his sword and knife into the back and slipped into the driving seat. “We just need to fill the tank first, Pet, then it’ll take about fifteen minutes to get to where Angel reckons there’s a lovely demon nest just waiting to be taken out.”

Neither spoke until after Spike had stopped and filled the Desoto’s tank and they’d moved off again. Spike knew he would have to wait until Buffy spoke to him. When she did he was astonished by her chosen topic.

“I like your hair a bit longer and curly, it looks really soft. Why do you always have to keep it so short and slick it down? The goop you usually use makes it all hard and crunchy.”

“That’s ‘cos I’ve always hated the curls pet, they make me look all soft and poncey. To be the Big Bad I need to look hard and dangerous.”

“Spike, let me be the first to break the news. You’re not the Big Bad any more, you’re more the Big NotVeryBadAtAll.”

“What? Take that back! I am so the Big Bad!”

“Nope, not bad.”

“Am so!”

Buffy giggled, “Really not.”

Spike was so delighted to hear the little giggle, he decided to let Buffy win the argument. That didn’t prevent him from muttering under his breath for a while though. He decided that if his hair was longer than usual the dark roots must also be showing, which meant as soon as they got back to Sunnydale it would be time for a visit to his friendly neighbourhood demon barber. He might no longer be the Big Bad as far as she was concerned, but he needed the Sunnydale demons and vampires to continue thinking of him that way. Now he was fighting on the Slayer’s team his reputation as a vicious fighter was the only thing keeping him undead.

There was another silence. Out of the corner of his eye Spike could see Buffy open and close her mouth a few times, and he realised she was trying to work up to saying something she was finding difficult to put into words.

Eventually she took a deep breath and asked, “Spike, if you wanted something to guide you, to use in place of your lost soul to show you how to live right, why on Earth would you choose me?”

Surprised, he replied, “I would have thought that was obvious love, I couldn’t find a better choice. You are the Chosen One, you fight demons, resist the forces of evil. It’s the demon in me I’m trying to fight, its force of evil that I’m trying to resist. Whenever I make a choice I try to remember to ask myself, ‘what would Buffy do?’ Of course sometimes my demon wins and I forget to ask, and sometimes I get the answer wrong, but I’m doing my best.”

“But I keep getting everything wrong. You were right, I did come back wrong, I must have. Nothing has been right since then.” Spike could hear the tears in her voice.

“You didn’t come back wrong Buffy, I’m so sorry I told you that, I was teasing you, having a cruel joke. I didn’t mean to scare you so much. I spoke with Tara, she told me she’d made sure you aren’t wrong, there’s no demon in you. You’re a little lost, that’s all Pet, you just need to find your purpose again. You’re angry with your friends for bringing you back when you thought you could rest. You hate the fact that you aren’t grateful, that you can’t give them what they need. They had no idea you were happy and safe, they thought you were suffering in a Hell dimension, they thought they were rescuing you. You’ve just got to remember they love you and you love them. Give life a second chance, all of it, the pleasure as well as the pain, you’ll find it’s worth the risk. Then you’ll be able to forgive them, and then you must forgive yourself. You had every right to be angry, but you can let it go now, it’s hurting you. Try to turn all that anger and pain into the strength you need to be the Slayer.”

“Love… give… forgive.” Buffy whispered, “I’ll only lose love if I reject it… Risk the pain… forge strength from the pain….”

“I couldn’t put it better myself love, I know it’s been bad, but you can get better, I know you can, you’re the strongest person I’ve ever known.”

“Have you been chatting with my Spirit Guide, Spike? You’re saying the same things she did.”

Spike’s eyebrow went up, “Spirit Guide? I didn’t know you had one love, but she sounds like a good person to know.”

The rest of the drive proceeded in silence, Buffy staring blindly out into the darkness.
Once they reached the empty warehouse Spike and Buffy armed themselves, and approached the door. “Don’t forget Slayer, use your instincts.” Buffy nodded.

There were no windows, so they couldn’t see what to expect inside. Spike tried the small access door set into the large sliding loading doors. It was locked. He indicated Buffy should go ahead, and her single sharp kick smashed the lock, allowing them to enter. All was darkness except for the strip of moonlight from the doorway running across the floor. After a few seconds Spike’s eyes adjusted to the dimness, and he motioned that Buffy should follow him as he stalked silently into the vast empty building. She had no trouble keeping his shining hair in sight as she swept the blackness, straining to see and hear anything that might appear.

Spike heard a slight noise, and held up his hand as a signal for Buffy to stop. Cocking his head he concentrated for a moment, trying to locate the source of the sound. Nodding to himself he indicated they should move off to the right, and he led Buffy over to a large wooden trap-door set into the concrete floor. Without discussion, they moved to the corners opposite the hinges, each tucking the fingers of their spare hand into the crack, and on a nod from Spike they both heaved.

The trap lifted silently on well-oiled hinges, the catch only making a single crack as it snapped in two. They quietly lowered the huge slab of wood to the floor, and peered down into the vaulted cavern below. A rough set of steps had been cut into the rock wall; they curved away to one side towards the source of a dim orange light and the muffled chittering noise Spike had heard. Buffy cautiously led the way, axe raised ready for action. The steps were narrow so Spike had no choice but to remain behind her, and had to stop abruptly when she paused to peek around a sharp bend. He took the opportunity to check there was nothing approaching from behind, but to his dismay when he turned back, Buffy was gone.

Swearing under his breath he rounded the bend, only to see the figure of his Slayer below as she dashed down the last few steps and ran out into a large open space where no less than a dozen animated figures awaited her, crowded next to a huge deep pit in the centre of the floor encircled by a ring of flaming torches attached to tall pillars. “Women!” he muttered in frustration, and was immediately after her at top speed. By the time he reached floor level Buffy was in the middle of a wild fight, completely surrounded by demons. They were mostly between five and six feet tall, very skinny, and covered with shiny grey reptilian scales with long sinuous tails poking out from beneath flowing orange robes. They didn’t appear to be carrying weapons, but as Spike approached he realised they didn’t really need any. Three inch long curved claws tipped their bony fingers and their long snouts boasted fangs even more impressive than his own.

“Bloody woman, how am I supposed to watch her back when she goes off half cocked and gets herself surrounded?” Lifting his sword high, he Vamped out and charged. He let out a full throated roar, startling even himself with the effect it made in the domed space. The sound echoed around making the demons look in all directions trying to locate the source. By the time he was spotted he had already decapitated two of them, and was aiming for a third. “Slayer!” he growled, and swept on towards where he could make out a swirling in the action centred upon a space where he assumed Buffy was fighting, he briefly caught sight of a blonde head bobbing up above some robed shoulders, raised axe blade glinting in the torchlight, and corrected his course towards her.

As he reached her side he felt a sudden sting in his flank, and realised that one of their opponents had caught him with a claw. He spun to retaliate, swinging his sword round at waist height. It dug deep into the demon’s side, but when he tried to turn back towards Buffy he realised the collapsing body had folded over the blade, trapping it so that he couldn’t withdraw it.

He immediately released his grip and drew the long knife from its sheath strapped to the small of his back. Checking behind him he saw that his Slayer had received a torn shirt and a couple of nasty scratches down her right flank, but otherwise appeared unhurt. “Got your back you stupid bint,” he grunted as he dodged to avoid another set of claws, striking out with the knife and making contact with the offending arm, leaving a deep gash.

“What took you so long?” Buffy demanded, as she swung the axe again, neatly separating yet another demon from it head. They fell automatically into the natural rhythm of fighters who knew each others moves so well they didn’t need to think. As one stepped forward to attack, the other fell back to protect them, as one dodged to the right, the other covered their left flank. Buffy took a moment to realise Spike had lost his sword, drew her knife and tossed it backwards over her head. “Catch!” she cried. Without hesitation Spike transferred his own weapon quickly to his right hand, and reached up with his left to grab it out of the air. Neither had turned to check the position of the other, it wasn’t necessary, their senses guided them unerringly.

Now he had a knife in each hand Spike felt a lot happier, or at least he would if only the herd of demons would only begin to thin out. He felt as if they must have killed at least twenty between them, and although there had only been a dozen or so to begin with they were still surrounded and still fighting furiously. Reinforcements must have arrived while they were busy.

Buffy grunted in pain, and he noticed her movements becoming slightly jerky. “Problem?” he gasped as he tripped a demon with a flailing foot and followed through with a stab into the back of its neck, severing its spine.

“Ankle,” she panted, as she punched a fang-filled jaw, “boots.”

Spike grinned as he high kicked one demon’s chin snapping its head back, while slicing another’s face open to the bone, “told you so.”

They continued fighting in silence for several minutes, saving their energy. “Watch out!” Buffy cried, just in time to stop Spike leaping to his left where he had sensed an open space. They had been herded to the edge of the pit. Now standing side by side instead of back to back they were able to assess their situation. It didn’t look too bad. They were surrounded by the heaped remains of what looked like dozens of demons, and only eight more remained hemming them in against the pit. Although they were both tiring slightly neither had been seriously injured.

Spike risked a glance down into the pit. “Fancy jumping pet?” he asked, “lots of eggs in there, all waiting to be squished.” As one, the demons took a step back, disengaging from the fight. “Ah, understand me do you…? What do you reckon Slayer? Fight or jump?”

“I’ll jump, you fight. Swap!” She tossed him her axe as he passed her one of the knives in exchange, then she took one step backwards and casually dropped into the pit.

Spike advanced to meet the injured figure opposite him, and swung the axe. The remaining demons didn’t take long to finish off, they seemed to be fighting very half heartedly, and Spike realised they had been protecting their nest. With their eggs being systematically destroyed by the Slayer they clearly felt they had no good reason to go on living.

The last demon fell in a heap. Spike dropped his weapons, reverted to his human face and took a moment to stretch his aching muscles and assess his wounds. He’d received a few deep claw punctures, several in his left flank and one in his left arm, a six inch long four claw score down his left thigh, and several minor cuts to his head and shoulders. He was mostly covered with demon blood rather than his own. Not too bad considering, but his precious old duster had received yet more damage, and as it didn’t heal the way his hide did, when he got home he’d have to get out the leather repair kit again. Not only that, he needed to find yet more replacement jeans and shirts. Fighting on the Slayer’s team was beginning to become expensive since he no longer stole his clothes.

Walking over to the edge of the pit he looked down to check his Slayer’s progress. Favouring her left leg she was wading in the spilled contents of hundreds of broken eggs, laying about her with the knife slashing at the soft shells that remained intact. As she moved the smell wafted upwards to reach Spike’s sensitive nostrils. “Gah! I’m glad you offered to do that Pet, the smell is bad enough from up here!”

Buffy stopped what she was doing and glared up at him, “Get down here and help.”

“Er… no?” He smirked, “one of us getting all slimy and stinky is enough thank you, it’s going to be bad enough sitting in the car with you. I expect I’ll have to drive with my head stuck out of the window as it is.”

Buffy continued her limping progress from side to side of the pit, methodically checking for unbroken eggs in the debris. She muttered angrily, “Bloody fastidious vampire and his bloody sensitive nose, needs to get his precious boots dirty, needs to have his clothes full of the stink, needs to get his perfect hair all slimy, needs to… aaaaargh!” She lost her footing on the slippery floor of the pit and landed flat on her back in a foot of raw scrambled demon eggs. She took three attempts at standing before she was able to remain upright. Two paces further on she went over again, this time flat on her face. She emerged scraping demon egg from her eyes, and spitting, and using words young ladies should not know.

Spike had collapsed, helpless with laughter, and was settled on the edge of the pit with his feet dangling over the edge, enjoying a cigarette as he watched the show.

Finally deciding she’d destroyed all the eggs, Buffy began to look for a way out of the pit. The sides were fifteen feet high, and almost sheer. With a hurt ankle she could neither jump nor climb up. “Get me out of here!” she demanded.

Clutching his aching sides Spike got up and began stripping robes off demon corpses. He tore the fabric into wide strips and knotted them together to form a rope, then tied a loop in one end. Draping the end around his shoulders he dropped the loop over the edge. “You can either sit in the loop or stand in it, hang on and I’ll pull you up.”
As she clambered out at floor level and stood up, Spike started giggling again. His Slayer had green and yellow slimy demon egg covering every square inch of her. Her hair was plastered to her skull and face, her clothes were stuck to her skin, and she was dripping. “Oh… I’d sell my soul for a camera…” he gasped through the giggles.

“It’s just as well you don’t have one then isn’t it?” Buffy retorted, then a wicked grin crossed her face and she slowly limped towards the vampire. He was so occupied with his aching ribs he didn’t notice in time to dodge the slippery little hand grasping him by the back of his neck, pulling his face down to meet hers. His mouth was covered by soft yet insistent lips… flavoured with stinky demon egg. Her other hand tore his shirts away from his chest, and her body pressed tightly against his, her burning heat sinking into his cool flesh… through her slimy shirt. His arms went around her of their own accord, holding her to him as his tongue explored her mouth... finding a disgusting glob of raw egg in the process.

“Oh yuck!” he tore his mouth from hers and spat over her shoulder, trying to release her stranglehold on him. “I may be your sex slave pet, but even I have my limits! If you want this it’ll have to wait until we’ve had a good shower. This smell is really turning my stomach, and sex in a demon’s lair full of blood and gore and corpses and stinky eggs is just too gross, even for me, particularly when there’s this big old hotel full of comfy beds just sitting there waiting for us.”

“Spoilsport,” she pouted, sticking her bottom lip out in a manner calculated to make him surrender.

Damn her, she knew exactly how it would affect him since the time of the engagement spell, “Oh, pouty! Look at that lip... gonna get it... gonna get it...” He hardened his resolve, took her chin in his hand, ran his thumb over her bottom lip and gave her a qick kiss then leered, “Patience love, anticipation is half the pleasure. Let me just count the bodies… a family group of three to six indeed… Angel’s informant needs glasses!”

He wandered around the cavern counting heads, quite a few of which were not attached to anything else. As he went he gathered up their weapons, wrestling his sword out of the stubborn ribcage of the demon it had got hung up in, and wiped the blood and gore off with its robe. As he had no idea what species of demon they had encountered, he stripped an intact robe off one, and wrapped it around a head and a loose clawed hand to take with them for identification.

When he got back to where he’d left Buffy he found her sitting examining her sprained ankle, her boot lying at her side. “That was foolish love, now you’ve taken your boot off, your ankle will have swollen and you’ll never get it back on again. You should have left it until we got back.”

“Oh, I didn’t think of that… never mind I’ll manage.” She struggled to her feet clutching her boot, but instantly overbalanced when she tried to hobble on one bare foot and one four inch heeled boot. “Ah… Spike? This isn’t going to work.”

“Take the other one off too,” he suggested.

“You expect me to wander around a bloody battlefield, and then the streets of LA, barefoot?” She looked up at him and batted her eyelashes comically, “Help needed here!”

Spike groaned dramatically, “I don’t know… putty in her hands… pathetic…” He gathered the weapons, bound them with part of the robe containing the demon samples, and held the neat bundle out to her. “Get rid of those useless boots, you’re never going to wear them again, they’re lethal. Here hold this.” She sat to remove her other boot, then stood again and took the bundle. He bent and grabbed her behind in both hands, and lifted her onto his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Jiggling her slippery form about until she was securely positioned he headed towards the exit, one hand holding her by the small of her back to prevent her sliding off, the other playing with the slime covered firm rounded flesh beside his face.

Buffy moaned and squirmed, retaliating by using her free hand to play with his rear end in return. Spike found this rather distracting, and thoroughly enjoyable. When they got to the car he slid Buffy gently to the ground, making sure to stroke all the flesh he could find on the way, he really couldn’t get any more slime on himself if he tried. Once they’d shared another deep egg flavoured kiss the weapons and demon remains went into the newly empty trunk, he didn’t want to get the back seat as messy as the front seats were about to become.

Getting back to the hotel was a struggle in concentration. Hot little hands, warm lips and blunt teeth kept diverting his attention from the driving. It seemed as if Buffy wanted to know just how soft his ungelled hair was, and nibbling his ear, stroking his bared chest and testing to see how tight his jeans were was an essential part of the process. In return he tried to tell if she had injuries apart from the scratches in her flank and her sprained ankle, discovering that her breasts belly and thighs seemed to be intact, and very warm.

With about an hour left to go before sunrise the Desoto was parked once more (rather crookedly) outside the hotel. Spike took a few minutes to pry himself away from Buffy. It seemed that drying demon egg acted very much like superglue. Superglue on their hands and lips. It had also caused his jeans to shrink very uncomfortably in the front. Very interesting. He retrieved the smelly bundle from the trunk and went around to the passenger side to help Buffy. She managed to struggle to her feet, but her ankle had now swollen so much she couldn’t stand any weight on it at all, so once more she grabbed the bundle and Spike hoisted her onto his shoulder.

Faced again by the same rounded flesh, Spike decided to have a little nibble on the way to the entrance, causing Buffy to squeal and squirm. She hadn’t got a firm hold on the bundle this time so couldn’t repay the favour with a spare hand. As he pushed through the doors Spike gave a last sharp nip and stroked the sensitive area on the inner curve of Buffy’s thigh. She yelped and cried, “Spike, you pig!”

He calmly replied, “yes love, so you never get tired of telling me.”

Furious that he hadn’t entered into their usual enjoyable argument, as Spike went down the steps into the foyer she dropped the bundle and viciously pinched both cheeks of his behind.

“OW!” He yelled, tipping her off his shoulder onto the floor, rubbing his bruised pride with both hands. “You bitch! That bloody hurt!”

“Good!” She retorted, then in a very provocative tone added, “come here and I’ll do it again!”

“Just you wait….” He threatened in a low growl, stalking back towards her.

“Sitting waiting here,” she taunted, suggestively, “do your worst!”

“You’re not going to get my worst, you’re going to get my very best!” He purred, gathering the giggling Slayer up over his shoulder once more, and headed towards the stairs.

“Ahem.” The quiet voice from the office doorway drew their immediate attention. “Demons all dealt with?”

“Oh… ah… yes… right… demons.” Stuttered Spike, “Your family group of three to six Angel, turned out to be a sodding clan gathering of nearly fifty, all duly dealt with. A huge pit full of hundreds of big stinky demon eggs, all smashed. No idea what species, samples for identification in one of their robes over there with your weapons, all present and correct. Only minor injuries sustained, mainly claw marks and bruises, and one sprained ankle due to bloody stupid high heeled boots. Slayer’s boots that is, not my boots. Clothing trashed due to aforementioned smashing of stinky demon eggs, replacements will be required in the morning... or rather later today. Urgent need for showers, and subsequent Do Not Disturbage.” He winked wickedly, turned and resumed his former course up the stairs.

One hand braced on Spike’s bruised behind to lever her head up, Buffy looked down at her former lover and blushing madly waved slightly, saying “Oh... er… hi Angel… er... see you later Angel…” Then as they passed out of sight she collapsed against Spike’s back, grasping the back of his coat, and started chanting “Oh God oh God oh God Oh God…”

Reaching the bathroom, Spike closed the door after them, and gently allowed the now quiet Buffy to slide to the floor. He sat her on the closed lid of the toilet, and slipped his coat off, hanging it on the back of the door. Next he pulled the shower curtain back so he could turn the taps, testing the water as he adjusted the mix. He switched the flow from the tap to the shower, then turned back to his silent Slayer. “Let’s get you out of those smelly things pet, they’re ruined.” He knelt beside her and began sliding the sticky leggings down from her waist, pausing for her to lift her hips so he could slip them free of her bottom. The legs had stuck to her, and needed to be peeled off, leaving them inside out.

The torn shirt came next, the tiny pearl buttons clogged with dried demon egg. “You might want to save these pretty buttons love, they could be sewn onto something else.” All that was left were the white lacy bra and matching tiny panties. The bra was gone in a second, he’d become expert in undoing those tricky little hooks, then he gently lifted her into a standing position, hooked his thumbs in the elastic and drew the sticky wisp of lace down her legs. As his face travelled downwards so close to her, his soft lips traced her breastbone, his tongue paused to explore her navel, and his nose inhaled the hypnotising scent from her warm moist centre, sending a shiver of desire through his entire body. Steadying herself by burying her fingers in his hair she hopped out of the panties, then he was lifting her into the tub, placing her under the stream of water.

His Slayer found her tongue. ”Spike! This water’s freezing! What do you think you’re doing?” She spluttered and threatened to jump out again, hampered by her painful ankle.

Spike took seconds to remove his boots, and quickly added the remains of his tattered clothes to the little pile of Buffy’s things. “It’s raw egg we’re washing off love, if we start with hot water we’ll end up covered with cooked scrambled egg that would take weeks to pick off. We’ve got to get rid of the egg first, then we can have the hot water to enjoy.” He joined her in the tub, standing close behind her to steady her. The cool water had no effect on him, he was being warmed by the heat being radiated from his Slayer

“Why so quiet love?” he asked softly, tipping a generous blob of shampoo into one hand and rubbing it gently into Buffy’s hair, ”Tip your head back a bit pet, we don’t want shampoo to get into your lovely eyes.” The eggy suds flowed down her back and his chest, tickling him, and he smiled, repeating the process.

“Angel”. She said quietly. She didn’t really need to say anything else.

“Feeling guilty, Buffy? Ashamed? He knows what’s happening here, he knows you don’t love me, that I’m just giving you something you need, something he can’t give you himself as much as he wishes he could, something you can’t find anywhere else. He understands.”

“I know that, we talked about it. He said he understood, but I think the thing that’s getting to him is the fact that it’s you Spike, you’re the one I’ve turned to. I think it’s eating him up inside.”

“Is it eating you up inside too? Is thinking of him going to stop you?” Spike’s whole body tensed in desperate fear and he stepped back slightly, losing contact between their wet slippery bodies except for his hands resting on her waist to balance her. “Are you going to reject the chance to enjoy this pleasure because you can’t be with him?” He was thinking “Are you going to reject my love? Are you going to reject me?” If he needed to breathe, he’d be holding his breath.

She took the longest time to answer. Slowly she turned in his hands, and then he was lost in those eyes, those eyes that couldn’t decide whether they were green or hazel, those eyes he was drowning in. “You make me feel alive, you are the only thing in my new life that isn’t grey and dead.” Spike winced at the irony. “It’s only when I’m with you that I feel fire rather than ice. I don’t love you, but I need you. Is that enough?”

“Honesty. Thank you, I appreciate that Buffy. It’s enough for me. Just being with you is enough for me. It lets me hope for more, without any promises for the future that you don’t know if you’ll be able to keep.” He leant and touched her lips with his in a gentle kiss, sighed deeply as every muscle in his body relaxed in intense relief, and reached for the shampoo bottle again. “I’m going to be honest with you now. I’m going to show you exactly how I feel about you. There’ll be no pain or fighting, no bruises, no biting… well... probably no biting…” he leered. “I’m going to give you what you deserve. Pure pleasure.”

Buffy smiled and held out her hand for some shampoo, reaching up to massage it into Spike’s scalp as he worked the lather into her hair for a third time, rinsing out the last of the egg. There was only one sponge, so they took turns working the foaming shower gel over each other’s bodies, sometimes having trouble feeling where his cool white flesh ended and her warm golden skin began. Spike had never before considered the possibility of using a sponge as a sex toy, he gave a low chuckle as he realised he was still learning, after all these years.

At last the egg was all gone, and Spike bent over to adjust the mix, heating the water up slowly. He jumped and squeaked when Buffy giggled and took the opportunity to pinch his behind again, gently teasing this time. He straightened up wearing a mock frown, and growled low in his throat, wrapping his arms around her, lifting her slightly to hold her close. Taking possession of her sweet mouth with his he let the steaming water flow over their joined heads, down her chilled back and both their faces and flanks to warm them. She raised her legs and clamped them around his hips, trapping his hardness between them, causing him to moan with pleasure.

When he couldn’t wait any longer he pushed the shower curtain aside and stepped out of the tub, carrying his delicious burden with him. “Just a moment sweetie, let’s get comfy.” He took one hand from supporting her back and prised her legs off him, lowering her to stand on the floor. Grabbing a large towel he rubbed her hair for a moment to stop it from dripping, then wrapped her tightly in it, trapping her arms at her sides. After turning the taps off, he took a smaller one and wrapped it firmly around his waist.

Lifting the towelling bundle to his shoulder he carried her to his room, closed the door behind them, threw back the covers and deposited her gently on the bed. “I’m sorry I missed your birthday love, but now I’m going to give you your present.” Whipping the towel from around his waist, he sank onto the bed by her feet and began to dry her toes. Buffy twitched and squealed, “Don’t tell me the superhero Slayer has ticklish tootsies?” Spike chuckled in glee. “All that time I was looking for a weakness! If only I’d known all I needed to do was get hold of your feet!”

Slowly working up her legs, unwrapping the towelling parcel as he went, he dried her with towel, lips and tongue, taking care not to hurt her ankle which he could tell was already beginning to lose its puffiness as it healed. As he reached her thighs, Buffy began to gasp and squirm. When she couldn’t free her arms her strong legs tried to grasp him and pull him closer. Spike rested his head on one hand propped up on his elbow, and with the other stroked her legs and pressed them back down onto the bed. “Patience love, we’ve got all the time in the world, relax and enjoy yourself.” At last he reached her centre… which he completely ignored, much to Buffy’s dismay. Towel and mouth travelled over her belly and hips, with only one light kiss being deposited on the neatly trimmed mound in passing.

“Spike pleeease!” Buffy groaned, but she only received a low rumbling growl in response, a growl that vibrated through her belly and chest as the teasing mouth reached the undersides of her breasts. At last her arms were released from their towelling bonds and her hands flew to grasp the mop of damp curls resting on her chest, pulling his head up towards hers. “Come up here!” she ordered, forcing her mouth onto his.

“Gently, love,” he protested, disengaging her hands and withdrawing his lips. “I’m not finished here yet.” His head lowered once more to her breasts, taking one nipple in his mouth he sucked tenderly, rolling his tongue around the hardening flesh. His hand went to the other, rubbing and tweaking until Buffy cried out in desperation, “Spike, now please!” Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, stroking his back, trying to draw his resisting form closer to her.

He chuckled wickedly, raised his head to kiss her lightly on her mouth and nibble briefly in the hollow of her neck. Slowly he withdrew downwards again, stroking her silky skin and tracing her ribs with kisses, blowing in her navel, and finally coming to rest between her thighs, his body curled across the bottom of the bed. He inhaled the heavenly scent of her, parted her lips, and licked once, slowly tracing the hot moist crease from bottom to top, leaving his tongue resting lightly on the tiny sensitive button, and then he gave it a little flick. Buffy’s abdominal muscles clenched and she sat up suddenly, “Oh… Oh!… OH!... Her fingers twined in his hair and she pressed herself against his face as rippling waves of pleasure flowed through her.

“One.” Spike counted, grinning as Buffy relaxed back against the pillows, gasping for breath. He then went to work with fingers, tongue, lips and nibbling blunt teeth, demonstrating to his Slayer the benefits of having a vampire lover. He didn’t need to pause to breathe. Before long, “Two!” he crowed proudly as once more Buffy writhed against him as she cried out in ecstasy, fingers frantically grasping at the towel under her. Suddenly the fresh rush of hot blood pumping through the throbbing flesh next to his mouth got too much for his demon and he felt his face change, the bones in his forehead and jaw shifting as his demon visage emerged. Quickly he pulled back, turning away to hide his shame from his lady.

As he desperately tried to force his demon down, Buffy raised herself on her elbows and hesitantly asked, “Spike? Where did you go? Is there something wrong?”

“Just a moment pet,” he mumbled, furiously willing his face to change back. As he struggled, Buffy crawled down the bed, her fingers tracing lightly along his flanks and back as she cuddled up against him.

“I missed you, come and kiss me.” She pleaded, arms encircling him, hands stroking his chest and belly, caressing tantalisingly downwards as she lifted her head over his, searching for his mouth. “Oh!” she giggled as she realised what the problem was, “don’t be silly, come here.” She shifted backwards slightly, then using her full Slayer strength she rolled her resisting lover over towards her, trapping his legs with hers to prevent him from rolling back. He tried to hide his appearance from her with his hands, but she pushed them away and carefully traced the ridges and curves with her fingers. “Don’t be ashamed of your demon, he is your strength, your life. It’s your demon that makes you such a good warrior and it’s why you’re so valuable to my mission.”

“Oh Buffy,” he moaned, “I don’t deserve you, you shouldn’t be with a monster like me.”

“I know.” She agreed cheerfully, startling him out of his misery, “but as you kept telling me, you’re all I’ve got! You’ll do though…” She chuckled wickedly, “in fact you’ll do very well! Come on, I know you haven’t given me all my present yet… I’m still waiting here…” One strong, hot little hand began doing some very interesting things to one of his nipples, while the other caressed his face, tracing the route her lips were taking with fluttering kisses over his bulging forehead.

Her welcome and very unexpected acceptance allowed Spike to relax and his face to revert to his human appearance. He took advantage of their new position to draw her body in to his along their entire length as he trapped her mouth with his and passionately returned her kisses. Grabbing the damp towel Buffy had been lying on and tossing it off the bed he rolled them back to the centre of the mattress, coming to a rest across the width of the bed lying half over her, one leg between hers, his painfully hard erection pressed into her hip, and their mouths still locked together.

As if their movements were choreographed each stroked one hand downwards, his hand travelling over breast, waist and hip towards her throbbing centre, hers moving over finely muscled chest and abdomen towards his. As each hand made contact and began to caress its chosen target they moaned in unison into each others mouths, pressing their bodies more tightly together, then both giggled as they realised how well they were matched.

“Now?” she asked.

“Now.” He agreed, and moved over her as she guided him straight in, one long slow thrust and he was fully enclosed. Spike was lost to sensation, suddenly he couldn’t move, she was gripping him so tightly, her heat burning him as she once more pulsed in pleasure, her powerful spasms almost carrying him with her. In delight he watched her beautiful face, her mouth wide in joy as she grunted rhythmically, her half-closed eyes smiling straight back into his. “Three,” he croaked when he could think rationally again.

“Your turn,” she insisted once she got her breath back. Her hands suddenly felt as if they were everywhere at once, stroking his back, grasping his hips as he moved within her, fondling his face as she pulled it down to kiss him, caressing his arms and shoulders as the muscles shifted, supporting his weight over her.

All at once he felt the earth moving. Oh no, it was his Slayer, rolling them over so she could take charge and ride him home. He grinned up at her, and gave himself up to her ministrations. His hands cupped her small breasts, his thumbs rubbing over the sensitive nipples, then they travelled to her waist where he could feel her muscles rippling under the skin as she moved. She leant forward and brushed herself against his chest, nibbling at his bottom lip as she continued to slide slowly up and down his shaft, gripping him with superb control.

His resistance began to wear thin, and his hands went to grip her hips, helping her to rise and fall, crushing her down onto him as he raised his own hips to meet her every thrust. “Oh Buffy… Oh my love… My queen… my flower… love you so much… my precious darling … You’re my sun… my moon… you make me feel so alive…” suddenly he couldn’t keep his mouth shut, he was babbling all the poetic nonsense he knew she hated, but couldn’t stop himself. She solved that problem by covering his mouth with hers, making his tongue too busy to form words.

Then she was sitting up, head thrown back as she once more climbed towards a peak of delight. His hands grasped hers, fingers interlocking, as with two more thrusts he roared and she screamed, eyes locked as they came together, pulsing in counterpoint. “Four!” She declared, triumphantly, then she collapsed in a heap on his chest, gasping for breath, legs stretched out over his, keeping him held tightly in place.

He nuzzled her neck licking the salty moisture from her skin, swept her hair out of her eyes and kissed them, stroked her back down to cup her lovely bottom. He took the rare opportunity to revel in her sweaty grace, the silk velvet flesh over those sprung steel muscles. How long did he have before she would jump up and return to her own room? It didn’t matter, he’d proved to her that she could enjoy the pleasure without the pain, that their lovemaking didn’t have to be brutal and violent for her to achieve satisfaction. Whatever happened between them in the future he would have this memory to replay over and over in his mind. His one perfect night. A victorious battle with his lady fighting at his side, followed by the most wonderfully satisfying sexual experience of his unlife.

After a few minutes he realised with joyous disbelief that his Slayer had relaxed totally on him, that she was breathing deeply and regularly. She had gone to sleep on him! He very carefully gathered the comforter from where it had fallen on the floor beside the bed and flipped as much of it as he could over her back, before relaxing and settling down to watch her sleep. So young, so beautiful, and for the moment at least, all his.
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No such thing as coincidences