SUMMER NIGHTS

CHAPTER ONE




Buffy kissed her mom goodbye and slid into the passenger seat of her dad's car. Shiny, red – typical mid-life crisis transport. For the first time that she could remember, she was reluctant to spend time with her father. It would take her far away from Sunnydale and her friends and right now she needed to cling to the familiar. Nothing would ever be the same again.

She'd accepted that Angel would be leaving after the fight. She'd even managed to wish him well when they were planning the Mayor's demise. But deep inside she had an ache that just kept growing. Deep down she'd expected him to stay.




But he hadn't. He'd gazed at her with soulful eyes through the smoke that accompanied the destruction of the High School – then turned on his heel and disappeared. Her heart contracted, but somehow she managed to smile for her friends and nod and comment as if everything was fine. Would it ever be fine again?




“Buffy? Are you alright, Princess?”




"Huh?"




"Are you with me? I've been talking to you for the last five minutes – and nothing. You feeling alright?"




Buffy forced a smile on her face. Her dad wasn't the most intuitive of men, so the fact that he could see there was something wrong must mean that she was being completely deranged. Usually by this time into the trip she'd chattered on at him and gotten him to agree to take her to every mall within a fifty mile radius, her dad turning up the radio to drown out her voice.




"I'm fine, dad. Just tired. Been a bit busy. You know, graduation and all that."




Her dad shifted guiltily in his seat. "Yeah. Erm...Buffy, about that. I'm sorry I couldn't make it. I'm sure your mom took lots of photos."




Buffy stared at him as if she didn't know him. Her own father didn't have any idea of the momentous happenings that she'd just lived through...barely. Why was she here, again?




"Yeah, dad. I'm sure she'll share." Obviously, her dad didn't catch the sarcasm because he just smiled and carried on talking.




"Great. Oh! I have a surprise. We're only going to my apartment for a few days then we're going on vacation. I rented a condo on the beach, just you and me, the sea, the sand and lots of time to catch up on what my girl's been doing. How does that sound?"




Hellish , Buffy thought.




"Great dad, that's...great."




The next four weeks were going to drag. Buffy hunkered lower in her seat and closed her eyes, falling back on the age old ruse of 'pretending to be asleep'.




+ + + +




The condo looked very roomy in the brochure, and Buffy was pleased to see that it appeared to match the photograph as they pulled alongside it. It had a bedroom at either end of the house separated by a living room and kitchen area, so at least she would have some measure of privacy. She'd only spent four days with her dad and already she was bored witless and seriously considering inventing a mom emergency so that she could go home. Somewhere in between last summer and this one, she'd stopped being daddy's little girl and started questioning his actions. Like how come she was always last on his list? How come everything else was always more important? And then he always tried to make it up with one huge splurge of spend, spend, spend during the summer.




It was quite sad, really. Another part of her childhood slipping away, the part where every little problem would just melt away with a hug from daddy.




"What do you think, Buffy? Nice, isn't it? Cost a pretty penny, but it's worth it to see my favourite girl smiling."




Erm...this is a grimace, not a smile. "Yeah, it's lovely. Roomy."




"Well, let's get settled in. I'll go open up, you have a walk down to the seafront if you like and I'll unload the suitcases."




Buffy eagerly did as she was told, loving the feel of the warm sand between her bare toes, snatching her hair up and twisting it to keep it off her neck. The beach was almost deserted, Buffy wandering a little way up towards the water before turning to look at the beachfront of the condo. Very pretty, she had to admit. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad after all.




"Buffy! You want to come see?"




Buffy turned to seek out her dad, who had now opened up the double doors that led to a deck, the edge gently sloping to meet the sand. She made her way back, the shoes she'd taken off swinging as she walked.




The cool interior was welcome, the tiled floor soothing her hot feet. Her dad had already deposited her bags in one of the bedrooms so Buffy started to unpack, tidying everything away behind the closet doors. The bed was made up in cool, white linen, gossamer drapes blowing gently at the open window. It even had it's own tiny bathroom off to the side, with a small sink and its own toilet. It was very chic.




Buffy wandered out to the living area, casting her eye over the plain yet clearly expensive furniture and the state of the art entertainment system. Her dad had certainly not spared any expense. It was amazing what absent-dad guilt cost to assuage these days. She mentally scolded herself. He was trying, he always did. It just seemed that he'd rather try to buy her affection than actually work for it. The shoe-buying sprees they usually went on were testament to that. Looking at him working on opening a bottle of juice, his brow furrowed in concentration, however - Buffy melted a little. He was still her dad after all, and she did believe that despite everything, he did love her.




"It's lovely, dad. Thank you." Buffy placed a kiss on her dad's cheek, coming to stand beside him at the small kitchen island. She took the drink he offered her and sipped on it, the sweet juice delicious on her tongue.




"What do you want to do today, kitten? Chill, just camp out here? Or do you want to do something manic; I think they hire out those jetskis just up the cove a little way."




"Chilling is fine by me, dad. I just want to lay out and catch some rays, read a trashy novel, eat tons of food and drink gallons of fruity nectar."




Hank Summers chuckled. He'd been worried about Buffy after a few long talks with Joyce. His ex-wife had made him think that Buffy was virtually ready for a nervous breakdown, crying and hollow-eyed but trying to hide it. But she seemed to be just the same little girl he knew and loved. Bigger, obviously, more assured. Hell, she'd be going to college in a few months. All grown up.




Hank frowned when the pager he carried on his belt buzzed insistently. He glanced at the screen and sighed. Work. Must be an emergency because he'd made it plain that he wasn't to be disturbed unless there was a real problem.




"Buffy, honey. I just have to make a phone call. Just take a look around, settle yourself in. I won't be a moment."




Buffy nodded that she would, not at all surprised that her father had yet again allowed work to intrude on their time. Because it would be work, it always was. She strolled out the open doors to the deck and sat on the steps, basking in the sun. It wasn't long before her father returned; one look at his face and she knew that she'd been too hasty in unpacking her bags.




"What is it?"




"Buffy, I'm really sorry, but I have to fly to Paris. I wouldn't do it if I didn't have to but there's a situation that only I can resolve. I'll call your mom, tell her to arrange to pick you up. I don't know how long I'll be gone, it's not fair to have you hanging around. But we'll do this again, honey. I'm so sorry."




Now that they'd got there, Buffy found that she was very much looking forward to spending time alone with her dad. And now it was being snatched away. Yeah, definitely must be her life, because it sucked beyond telling.




"It's okay dad, I understand. It's kind of a shame, this lovely place and all." Buffy suddenly had an idea. "Maybe...dad, would it be alright if I asked mom to come and join me? Instead of taking me home, maybe she could come here?"




Hank considered. He'd paid up front for the house for four weeks, somebody should get the use of it. "Sure honey, that'd be great. Could she get the time off?"




"I don't know. Erm...can I use your phone?"




Buffy dialled her mom's number at the gallery, feeling a little pang of homesickness when she heard her mother's voice answering.




"Hey mom, it's only me."




"Hello, darling. Having a good time?"




Buffy explained the situation, but by the silence at the end of the phone, it didn't seem as if her mom was keen on the idea.




"Mom?"




"Sorry, Buffy. I was just...we're really busy right now. I could maybe get away, let me see...today is Wednesday...I could get there probably Monday night? I couldn't stay long though, maybe through Thursday?"




"But dad has to leave right now, mom. Are you okay with me being here on my own until then?"




"You're a sensible girl, Buffy. And it's not like you can't take care of yourself, is it? If you're real good, I may even leave you there when I come back, pick you up later. How does that sound?"




It sounded too good to be true. Her mom finally accepting that she was an adult.




"That's great, mom. So, I can tell dad you'll be here on Monday. Oh, okay." Buffy took the phone away from her ear and handed it to her dad. "Mom says she wants a word with you."




Hank took the phone from her and walked inside, his voice echoing in the tiled living room. From the tone of her dad's voice, her mom was not pleased. Still, the deal seemed to be done because Hank walked out to sit beside her on the step, giving her a quick hug.




"Your mom said she'd call you later. I'm leaving you this phone so any problems you call me, okay?"




Buffy assured him that she would, taking the cellphone and cradling it in the hands that dangled in front of her where she sat.




"When do you have to go?"




Hank looked at his watch. "Right now, really. Got to catch my flight. You sure you'll be okay? I am sorry."




"I'll be fine. I'll just overeat and sleep until mom gets here and then it'll be lots of girly stuff. It'll be nice."




"Okay. Then I'd better run. Remember, anything – you ring my office and they'll put you in touch with me. And Buffy?"




She looked up at him, squinting at the sun. "Yeah?"




"I love you."




Buffy managed a tremulous smile. "Love you too, dad."




+ + +




She'd skipped through all of the channels that the tv had to offer, sampled every bit of food that the housekeeper had stocked up for them and even taken a sip of wine to remind herself that she really didn't like it. The sun was dipping low, casting an orange glow to the calmly rolling sea that lay in front of her viewpoint from the deck. There was a hammock slung between two uprights and Buffy lay in it and swung gently as she tried to relax. Thing was, every time she felt as though she could become boneless and empty her mind, Angel popped in to haunt her, telling her over and over that he didn't want to be with her any more. It was driving her crazy; she had to go do something.




It suddenly occurred to her that it wasn't only in Sunnydale that there was a demon problem. Maybe she'd find some well-needed relaxation from slaying the local demon population. And it would be her good deed for the day too. Singing quietly to herself, she jumped up to grab some more appropriate slaying clothes than the bikini she sported, and grabbing a few of her ever-present stakes, wandered out into the early evening throng.




No demons appeared to want to play with the Slayer despite her best attempts at looking innocent and naive, so she sat down at a cafe and ordered a frappacino and a muffin. She was about to take a less than ladylike bite of the sticky concoction when she felt a familiar tingle down her spine: a vampire, and nearby too. She eagerly scanned the crowd passing the pavement dining area, but nobody fulfilled her criteria at being an eager-to-be-deader dead demon and the tingles soon subsided.




Now she was pissed. Getting her all worked up and ready to slay then leaving a girl hanging? It just wasn't polite. Buffy drained her drink, sucking noisily on the straw, and decided to go hunt herself a vampire. Wasn't as if she had anything better to do now that her dad had ditched her. All in all, Buffy the vampire slayer was desperate to lay some stake action on the first vamp that happened her way.




Or a demon. She wasn't fussy. Anything supernatural that fell into the evildoer column would do. Multiples of both if she was honest. A chase, a hunt and a kill tonight just may get her chilled out enough to sleep without her usual nightmares intruding. Working on instinct, Buffy headed towards the shadowed area that turned out to house a long established cemetery.




She was daydreaming as she walked, her mind full of dusty vampires and melting demons falling beneath her stake as she merrily quipped and tripped away to stake another. So the huge horned demon that stood in her path went unnoticed until she collided with it and ended up in a heap at its feet. The creature opened its mouth and let out what should have been an ear-piercing shriek; instead, the noise had Buffy rolling her eyes back in her head and losing consciousness.




+ + +




Spike couldn't believe his eyes. Here he was, once again tracking Dru after one of her visions had her hightailing it away from him, and wasn't it just his luck to bump into the Slayer? Was the bird stalking him? A vamp could get paranoid about something like that, what with the Slayer turning up and Dru babbling on at him about destiny and sunshine and so forth. Made him shiver.




He'd been about to turn into the little cafe and grab himself someone to eat, maybe a perky teen with blood sweetened by chocolate milk, when he'd pulled up short, his Slaydar on full alert. Whoa. Very close, he'd almost walked right into her. Buffy Summers, large as life and about to tuck into a muffin big enough for two. He'd managed to duck back out of sight just as she'd obviously sensed him, her head shooting up and turning from side to side.




Thanking his lucky stars that he'd not swallowed down the whole bottle of bourbon he had in the Desoto and therefore his reactions weren't slowed, he turned round and headed back to the shaded area around the cemetery where he'd parked his car. He bumped into a tasty treat on the way, satisfying his rumbling belly before kicking the remains into the undergrowth. Served the silly little girl right; if she wanted to wander alone into the dark unknown she was bound to get a bite taken out of her.




He patted his stomach and smacked his lips, nodding a greeting to a Gretch demon who lumbered past him in the opposite direction. Big bugger - Spike thought as he turned to watch it. Sodding hell! There she was again. The bloody Slayer. He was convinced now that she was after him and despite the fact that neither of them had managed to see off the other in their previous meetings, he'd had enough. Tonight would see an end to the bloody thorn in his bloody side.




Spike growled, vamping out, and started off after the demon, intent on ripping out the Slayer's throat. He quickened his pace as he saw Buffy walk slap bang into the hulking demon and end up on the floor. The beast wasn't going to get to off the Slayer in his place, no, that was definitely his due. He reached the demon just as it opened its mouth and Buffy went still on the floor.




"Hey, mate! That's my Slayer you're messin' with. Now, piss off!"




The Gretch towered over Spike, his green teeth slimy with undigested food, his maw stinking of decay. Spike punched him in the chest, clutching his fist instantly as the solid demon barely moved but Spike's knuckles crunched.




"Bad move, Spike" he muttered to himself, moving away to spin-kick – but with the same result. An aching foot and no effect on the demon. Spike backed away and tried a two-footed kick to the chest and at least the creature bounced back a little this time, but the only thing that did was seem to make it enraged. It roared its displeasure and stumbled towards Spike, narrowly missing stomping the Slayer in the process.




"Hey! Watch your big feet – I told you; the Slayer is mine! "




Spike set in to punching and kicking, biting and scratching, but it was only a matter of time before the beast would crush him. He could barely see, blood running into his eyes from a cut on his forehead – and suddenly he was punching at fresh air. Where the hell had it gone?




"Are you alright? You're bleeding. You're safe now."




Spike looked up through amber eyes, convinced he was knocked out cold and hallucinating. The Slayer thought she was rescuing him?




"Yeah, love. But you're not."




Buffy gasped. A vampire! She'd just battled a pig ugly demon to save a vampire. And not just any vampire.




"Spike."




"Missed me?"







TBC

SUMMER NIGHTS




CHAPTER TWO




“Missed you?” Buffy snorted. “Only with my stake. What are you doing here?”




“Oh, no need to thank me, Slayer. You know, for stopping Mr Clumsy from stomping on your head.”




“What? I just pulled him off you and broke his neck! You'd be dust if it wasn't for me – and don't think I'm not regretting that.”




Both of them were stiff with anger, neither giving ground as they faced off, foreheads almost touching. Spike was still vamped out, no way the demon was letting go in face of the Slayer's threat. Blood was running down his face but the cut was healing fast.




A rumble sounded in the background, the ground shaking beneath their feet. Buffy tilted her head to listen. “You hear that?”




“Uh huh. Not a fucking clue what it is, but I hear it.”




The ground shook even more, both of them turning towards the origin of the ever louder rumble. Buffy blanched; it was huge! An extremely large demon heading straight for them, almost double the size of the one she'd killed. And it looked pissed...




“Erm...Spike...”




“Yeah, Slayer. I see it. Must be this one's mum or something. Don't think we should be hanging about. Come on – my car's just by the trees.” He took off at a sprint, the demon melting away, not looking behind to see if she was following. It was her look out.




Buffy slid into the passenger seat just as Spike floored the pedal and the Desoto shot forward. "Thanks for waiting," Buffy snarled.




"No skin off my nose, Slayer. Thought you were supposed to have supernatural speed and such. Didn't see much evidence of it then."




"Gah! Just shut up. You can drop me at my dad's condo. It's not far; turn left here."




Spike drove, following her instructions, finally pulling up at the beach. He parked the car and switched off the engine. Buffy turned to open the door, shooting him a quick 'thanks' – her hand stilling on the door-catch as she realised what she was doing.




"Spike! Get out – get out now. You so need to get dusty. I mean, what is this? You really think I'm just going to get out of the car and let you go? You shouldn't have come here." A beat. "Why are you here?"




"Back off, Slayer. I didn't know you'd be lurking about. I'm looking for Dru, if you must know. Last bint I expected to see was little Miss Ice-in-my-Knickers. Hey!"




Buffy had slapped him hard, Spike growling at the contact. "Stop that! Look, we both know we're equally matched. Let's just forget we ran into each other and call it quits. I'm bruised and bloody and you've got a shiner coming on your right eye; that demon must've clocked you one during the tussle."




"What? What is that? A shiny what?"




"Shiner, love. Black eye? Purpling up nicely."




"No! Lemme look."




Buffy shuffled across the bench seat so that she could grab the rearview mirror to peer at her face. Her butt was half-perched on Spike's lap, the heat from her radiating to his groin. He looked in wonder at the bulge pressing at the fly of his jeans; what the fuck was happening? Warm Slayer ass had him hard and horny? He shuddered at the thought.




"Okay, Slayer. You're home. Be on your merry way and we'll say no more about it. Go. Get out. Summers, I mean it. Get out of my car."




Buffy's eyes were fixed on the mirror, round and staring.




"Uh oh."




"Uh oh? Uh oh, what?"




"Erm...you know that demon. The one that was very, very large and very, very angry?"




"Yeah..."




"It's about twenty feet away."




Spike turned in his seat, shifting Buffy sideways to headbutt the door.




"What? The fuck ugly one? Okay, I'm outta here! Buckle up."




Spike spun the wheels of the Desoto as he stuck it in reverse. The demon was getting larger in the mirror and Spike grabbed the handbrake and screeched it around, grabbing the steering wheel to drag the car around the lumbering figure of the biggest creature he'd ever seen.




Making an enemy of it was not good.




But that was what they'd done. Him and the Slayer. They'd fucked up good and proper. As he toed the accelerator to the floor, he mused on what it would take to see an end to the monster. More than it's offspring, obviously. And he'd hardly made a dent on it. Buffy had snapped its neck, but it had been distracted at the time. There was no way they'd be able to do the same to the mum.




Buffy struggled upright, smoothing down her hair and righting her clothes. "Where are we going?"




"Huh? Oh, away. Just away. Gotta hand it to you Slayer, you know how to get a demon interested."




"What? Oh...well." She frowned when she realised what he'd said, punching him in the arm. "Hey! I saved your hide! And look where it's gotten me. In a stinky car with no suspension, a deranged vampire in charge of the driving and a monocle of a monster on my tail."




"Monolith."




"Oh, that's right. Correct my speech. Don't worry about the fact that we're both dead meat."




"Both of us? I didn't kill it! Seem to recall you doing the neck-snapping, Slayer. I'm just an innocent bystander caught up in the mayhem."




"Right...'cause vampires as a whole are entirely innocent. D'ya think the mommy will see it like that?"




Spike huffed, but he didn't really have an answer. She was probably right. Bitch. Still, all he had to do was dump her out the car and head away into the sunrise, paying due notice to available shade, obviously.




Wouldn't find Dru that way, though, would he?




He pulled the car to a screeching halt. "Look, Summers – I think we've both got the same problem. We can either team up and get rid of it or we can snark away and piss each other off until the she-devil catches up with us."




Buffy hunkered up against the door with her arms crossed. "So; what do you suggest?"




"Well, don't know about you, love, but I need to get me some kip. It'll be light soon and my aching bones need some recovery time if we're to go up against the beast. Or we could just hightail it out of here..." He prayed she would stay and fight; he didn't want to admit he needed her help, but he couldn't do this alone and if the demon wasn't history, he'd have to leave Dru to her own devices.




"I can't go. That thing knows where I live – temporarily. My mom's coming into town on Monday – I can't leave it to get to her."




Spike sagged with relief. "Up to you, Slayer. I'm easy." He raised his eyebrow and shot her a full on head tilt with curled tongue to punctuate his double entendre. A vamp had a reputation to keep.




"You're a pig, Spike."




"Yeah, love. You'd better believe it."




+ + + +




The motel they'd found was basic. Very basic. A bedroom, a bathroom, a toilet. TV that worked if you thumped the set and fed it quarters. And just the one bed.




"You've got to be kidding me. You'll have to get another room."




"What? No way – I'm not shelling out hard cash just so you can keep your sorry virtue intact, Slayer. Course, I could just eat the desk clerk..."




"NO! No, that's alright...you take the floor and I'll..."




"Not on your life. It's my money that's paying for this palace; the bed's big enough for two even with your puppy fat. 's up to you, Slayer. I'm bedding down on this end. The floor or the bed; I don't care. But don't wake me up if you decide you want to share. And no stealing the covers."




Spike turned away from where she stood hugging herself while she thought things through. The floor was sticky with unknown substances, and the only cover that she could find was a threadbare towel. The bed, while not exactly a la mode, was sturdy enough it seemed, given the creaking springs that accompanied Spike getting comfy beneath the covers. And it was quite wide; she could probably shimmy beneath the covers on the other side without getting anywhere near his vampire body.




Oh hell; it had been a long day and she was dog-tired. She toed off her shoes and padded to the other side of the bed, drawing back the bedspread a little and sliding in, careful to ensure that there was ample space between her and the vampire. She looked over her shoulder at his apparently sleeping features; the angular planes of his face had softened as he'd snuggled into the pillow. He looked...edible.




/Oh god! I’m going straight to hell. Edible? Spike was...edible?/




Muttering under her breath, Buffy hunkered over onto her side, her back towards the front of the sleeping vampire, hands gripping the sheet close about her.




Spike opened his eyes and glanced at the Slayer's stiff form. Oh yeah; he was the big bad, just check out the freaked out slayer...




Both drifted off to sleep just as dawn hit the horizon.




+ + + +




A thumping at the door awoke them, Buffy blinking her eyes in the light that peeped through the ugly drapes.




"You wanna stay longer, you gotta pay for another night. Shoulda been outa here an hour ago."




Buffy struggled to form words, her body aching from sleeping in an unfamiliar bed. Her legs felt heavy and she was having difficulty moving her arms.




"Yeah, yeah – alright, mate. We'll pay the dosh. Just bugger off!"




Buffy smiled and snuggled back down. She didn't have to get up yet. Delicious langour crept over her limbs as she backed up into the cool embrace of her bedmate and sighed with happiness. She felt so comfortable and relaxed, so at home where she was. Before the urgent thought that was pecking at her brain could fully form, she dozed off again, the smile fixed on her face.




Spike, however, was wide awake and terrified. Somehow in the night either he or the Slayer had tangled themselves up with the other and he now had his arm wrapped tight about her middle without an inch to spare between his front and her back, and their legs were interlocked. His cheek lay on her fragrant hair and her fingers were interlaced with his where his other arm was thrown across her.




He was in big trouble.




He couldn't move because it would wake her; but if he didn't move she'd kill him.




And to cap it all, he had the mother of all morning erections.




Buffy mumbled in her sleep and pushed her butt back into his groin, Spike whimpering as the added pressure had him swelling even more. He groaned into her hair, his grip on her waist tightening.




"Mmmm," Buffy muttered. Spike thought that this must be what hell was like. He was damned, even more than usual.




But hell sure felt good.




He tried to think of something that would take his mind off the warm and luscious woman held in his arms; but it didn't work. He couldn't get the smell of her, the feel of her, out of his head. Every meeting they'd ever had played out in full vibrant colour before his tightly closed eyes. Somehow, with her here asleep and vulnerable in his embrace, all the taunting they'd done, the barbed comments and the fights seemed like dancing. It was all leading to this moment.




Bugger. The sodding poet was trying to break through, and all because of some shared danger and an enforced night sharing a bed. The demon didn't like it, was urging him to rip out her throat and drain her dry. He gave in, moving to her neck – but instead of biting, he kissed her gently, moving strands of hair away so that he could kiss from below her ear along to her collarbone.




Buffy turned in his arms, her eyes still shut but her lids fluttering. Still deep in sleep, she threw her arms around his neck and slinked closer to him, her breasts squashing against his chest. Spike nudged her legs apart and gripped her hips, pulling her tight against him. As her groin slammed into his, Buffy's eyes shot open.




"Spike! What the hell are you doing?"




"Shhhh, Slayer. Kinda busy here...just let yourself feel. I can make it good, just let me show you."




Buffy was shoving on his shoulders, wriggling to get away: but she stopped. Truth be told, the cool lips on her neck that had woken her had felt good, had felt absolutely wonderful in fact. She was so close to giving in, but her mind screamed vampire!




Said vampire took advantage of her momentary lack of struggle to capture her lips, featherlight kisses that tingled across her nerve endings. Vampire kisses. Spike kisses. Oh so arousing kisses. She caved. Her tongue slid in between his lips, wrapping around his and taking him by surprise. The kisses were more urgent now, their hands moving over each other's body gripping and stroking, tearing at clothes. The buttons on Buffy's shirt popped off, the seams ripping with the force of Spike's eager attentions. She arched her back so that he could remove the remnants of the garment, Spike taking advantage of the postition to unclasp her bra.




Buffy's hands were also busy, tugging at the hem of Spike's tee and untucking it from his jeans. He helped her to drag it off over his head, both of them now naked from the waist up. Hardened nipples clashed as they renewed their efforts to be the dominant partner.




Still Buffy's mind screamed at her to stop, but her body was firmly in the driver’s seat and was heading straight for the highway. First stop, orgasm central. Just the taste of Spike's mouth, the feel of his firm hands moving her to where he wanted her, were enough to have her teetering on the edge, all her senses on overload. The only thing that would stop this would be a nuclear warhead, and even that would need to be a megaton one.




She sprung back from him, one hand flat on his chest, her fingers rubbing over his nipple, the other still gripping the curls at the nape of his neck. She was panting for breath, eyes wide and luminous as she stared at his face in shock. Was she really doing this? Spike lowered his eyelids, his coal-black lashes sweeping his cheeks as he pursed his lips. When he looked back up at her his eyes glinted with amusement – and something deliciously dark and exciting – his bottom lip now caught between white teeth. Buffy gasped as she felt cool fingers sweep across her bare abdomen and tug at the fastenings of her jeans, dipping below the waistband and tangling in her moist curls.




Definitely no going back now. This highway was one way only, no stopping.




Spike was pleasantly surprised to find Buffy shifting against the fingers he'd managed to get down the front of her knickers, arching towards him, seeking some stimulus to ease her obvious frustration. Who would've guessed that the Slayer was a hot bitch in the sack?




He would, that's who. Ever since the first night he'd seen her, he'd known he could dance all night with her. He'd just kept that little admission hidden, even from himself.




As she writhed, Buffy felt the heat of orgasm start to build; she was so turned on it was a wonder she wasn't on fire, and he hadn't even really touched her yet. His fingers stopped just short of her aching clit denying her the release she craved.




And then he parted her folds and slid two fingers along her slit and inside her. Instantaneous fireworks, explosions of pleasure, vocal appreciation – Buffy did the whole Hollywood scene and screamed Spike's name, sobbing as an encore. Spike gritted his teeth; man, she was tight. His fingers were squeezed in the vice-like grip of her pussy as she rode out her orgasm.




He had to get his cock inside her.




Impatiently, he rolled Buffy to her back, kneeling up and grabbing at her jeans and panties to drag them off. Buffy complied with his unspoken instructions, lifting her butt to help him get her naked. As he hovered above her she grabbed at his fly, tugging at the button and zipper in eager anticipation.




"Spike...?"




"You want something, Summers? You just gotta ask..."




Buffy blushed, looking almost virginal in her embarassment despite her state of undress and kiss-marked lips. Her eyes were fixed on his crotch where the zipper was slowly making its own way down as the pressure of his erection proved too much for mere metal to encage. She licked her lips unconsciously, the zipper now rolling all the way down to show him in all his glory. Her eyes widened...was that size even possible?




"Like what you see, Slayer?"




Buffy nodded, her brain kicking in to control her head before the shame circuits could ignite. Oh yes, she liked. She liked a whole lot. Powerless to stop herself, she watched as her hand snaked out and slowly encircled his girth. He felt like velvet wrapped steel; she moved her hand up and down slowly, grinning to herself as he moaned deep and low in his throat. She had done that, made him keen like an animal. The sexual power was intoxicating.




Spike wriggled his way out of the jeans, sliding down the bed to do so, finding himself laying with his head between the Slayer's legs. And damn – the scent of her was making him drool. Warm and spicy, that unique Slayer musk that always told a vampire when one was near. He'd smelled it twice before; once in China and once in New York – but never like this. Buffy Summers was unique. He was in danger of becoming addicted to her.




Of course, once they'd slaughtered the mummy demon and he'd hooked back up with Dru he'd kill his craving once and for all by offing his third Slayer. Maybe offer her up to Dru as a reunion gift. That'd be fitting, make up for the fact that right now he was going to lick the Slayer senseless then fuck her half to death.




When Buffy murmured his name in a husky whisper, somehow he didn't think it would be quite that simple.




TBC

SUMMER NIGHTS

CHAPTER THREE

Just wanted to thank everybody for reading. This was just a little ficlet - and this is the last chapter. Hope you like it!



Buffy thought she'd never feel anything as wonderful as when Spike thrust his fingers inside her; she was wrong. His tongue lapping at her juices, swirling around her clit , was pure molten heaven. His firm hands were burning fingerprints into the flesh on her hips; she would be marked for days.




Maybe for a lifetime.




Buffy's hips were bucking off the bed, her body taking over and seeking what it needed to ease the building pressure. Spike chuckled even as he nibbled on her clit and she went stiff as another orgasm rocketed through her. She'd read about 'seeing stars' but hadn't actually thought it was literally meant. She'd seen not only stars, but huge flaring comets.




Maybe it was because he was evil? Or maybe it was because he was so damn sexy.




She gave up trying to figure it out and just gave herself over to absolute pleasure. Spike was moving up her body now, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand. It was disgusting and at the same time highly erotic. Buffy sat up to grab hold of his head and drag his face down to meet her. The taste of herself on his tongue sent her fluttering off into happy land again, so naughty and nasty and totally wicked. She'd never have guessed she had this wild slut inside her, but she was sure going to go with it now that she had.




Spike's knees nudged her legs wider, his cock sliding along her slick cleft. It was taking immense self-control not to just force his way in, but this side of the Slayer was intriguing him. Little Miss Prissy was a hellcat in bed and he was having too good a time to end it all too soon. When Buffy bit down on his lip and sucked the wounded flesh inside her mouth though, he gave up with the self-imposed restraint and thrust inside her to the hilt. Buffy bit down harder, Spike tasting his own blood mingled with her saliva and it was driving him crazy.




He could feel the change to vamp face coming on, and with his energies focused on other things – hot, wet, tight things – he couldn't stop it. A descending fang skewered Buffy's lip, her gasp of pain releasing his lip from between her teeth. Their mingled blood slid down each other's throats, one of them more appreciative of the bitter, coppery taste than the other, but both of them eager for more contact. Spike moved his hips in a slow, rolling rhythm, Buffy arching her back to meet him with her legs wrapped firmly around him, pulling him closer. Her nails scored tracks down his back, beads of blood joining others to run across his pale skin. He was overdosing on sensation; in all his years, all his conquests, the dark demands of Drusilla – he'd never felt anything like this.




It was like they were made from the same piece of flesh, they fit together so well. And the way she moved...




Maybe it was because she was the Slayer? Or maybe it was because she was so damn sexy.




Whatever it was, he wanted it in spades. Buffy was running her tongue across his teeth, lingering over his fangs. He was at boiling point, desperately trying to stave off ejaculation until she'd screamed his name. But that little thing she was doing with her hands on his butt was making it harder and harder and harder...




“Oh my god! Spike...oh god...don't stop...”




Buffy's legs around his back locked him in place, her grasp merciless, her fingernails digging into his ass cheeks. She ground her pussy against him, internal muscles gripping and releasing him as she came. In her ecstasy, she arched fully, her head thrown back revealing her soft, white throat with the pulse racing just beneath the skin. His name was a breathy moan falling from her lips.




Spike roared his pleasure as he orgasmed , the roar ending when his fangs buried in her throat and he drank great gulps of Slayer blood. Every nerve ending was tingling with life as the precious fluid flooded his system.




Buffy was writhing beneath him again, and it took him a while to notice that she was beating at his shoulders with both her hands. It brought him back to himself; he moved away, licking at the puncture holes and wondering how long he had until she dusted him.




She'd okayed the sex, even if only by her actions, but there was no way the Slayer would be letting him off for the biting.




One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Up to seven and he was still in possession of a non-dusty body. The vamp face slid away; wouldn't do to remind her of the fact that he was the one in possession of the sharp teeth.




Spike swallowed hard, before cursing himself for being a sorry prick and lifted his head up to look at the Slayer.




“You bit me!”




“Yeah, what of it. Vampire, remember?”




“But...you bit me!”




“Jeez , Slayer. Get over it. It's kinda linked for my kind, the biting and the sex. It's no big, don't go on so. You're not hurt are you?”




Buffy considered. She'd been all trembly and orgasm-girl when she'd felt the sting of his fangs pushing into her flesh; she couldn't lie – the first sweep of his tongue as he pulled her blood into his throat had her coming again, but as she'd settled back to earth she'd realised what was going on and panicked. She was the Slayer, and a vampire was feasting on her throat.




God, it had felt so good.




No, she wasn't hurt, but she sure as hell was damned forever. She shoved herself backwards until her back hit the headboard, gripping the sheets about her in pointless modesty. Her eyes, of their own volition, swept over Spike as he lounged naked on the bed, resting on one arm, his other tugging at his ungelled curls. Sex-tousled hair and come-to-bed eyes coupled with sculpted abs had her pulse racing again and she couldn't help the tiny gasp that escaped her lips.




Spike smirked; he noted where her eyes were going and shifted one leg so that she got the full effect of his burgeoning erection, the smirk turning to a grin when she licked her lips unconsciously. He no longer felt in danger of being dusted, but he sure as hell might combust from the heat of her caress. Moving soundlessly, he prowled up the bed like a panther, his weight dipping the mattress and dragging the light cover out of Buffy's suddenly limp hands.




Her breasts were uncovered as the sheet fell softly against her midriff, her nipples stiffening in the knowledge that his talented mouth was drawing near. With a speed that had her jumping back, Spike ripped the sheet away totally leaving her open to his gaze.




“Beautiful...” he murmured, his eyes roaming over her from head to toe and calling forth a blush. “Hey, now. Don't be shy. I know what kind of girl you really are.”




Buffy opened her mouth to snark at him. But he was right, he did. She was a sex-crazed slut, desperate for his touch. She was definitely going to burn in hell. And she didn't care.




She whimpered, biting down on her tongue to stop herself from begging him to touch her. She still had her pride, but it was disappearing fast. He was nuzzling at her neck, his tongue snaking out every now and then to lick along her skin and flick at her earlobe. Buffy's whole body was in sensual overload, every inch of it electrified by his touch. He nipped at her neck with blunt teeth and she moaned, even though she tried to stem the sound by biting her own hand.




“Slayer...” Kiss. “Tell me...” Nip. “...you don't love...” Lick. “...my teeth...” Suck. “ ...at your...” Bite. “...throat.”




Buffy struggled to speak, but found herself answering him. “I...I...ohhh , please...”




Spike bit down hard, gratified by the way she arched her body against him. “Please stop?” he whispered against her ear.




“Noooo ! Don't stop! Please...”




“Promise me I won't wake up dusty, and I'll give you what you crave, Slayer.”




“Anything! I promise...I won't dust you. Just...please... ”




Buffy heard herself reply, but was powerless to stop the words. Her slut!self had hijacked her brain, it appeared, and she was Spike's to do with what he would. She recalled that she wanted to kill him; at the very least she wanted to maim him. Wound him then; insult him? Oh god, she just wanted to kiss him until the world ended...god help her.




Spike vamped out and struck, his fangs sinking once more into the pliant flesh of the Slayer's throat, the blood popping through the taut skin and bursting on his tongue. The sound of her heartbeat thrummed loud in his ears in perfect time to the pulsing of her blood in his mouth. It was intoxicating and stimulating and he struggled to keep control and stop himself from draining her. He wrenched his fangs from her neck, ripping the flesh slightly in his efforts, his features shifting to human as he looked down on her. Her eyes were closed but fluttering and he worried he'd taken too much.




When Buffy's arm shot out and grabbed him, dragging his lips to hers he let himself relax. She was all good. Well, part bad. And lucky for him.




+ + + +




It was late afternoon when they came to, the sheets wrapped around their legs. Buffy's head was cushioned on Spike's chest, his hand tangled in her hair. She nuzzled him sleepily, blinking to clear her head. She blinked again. No, he was still there. The afternoon's lovemaking came back to her, the blush creeping up her chest and throat and settling on her cheeks. When she opened her eyes, Spike was staring at her.




“Mornin'.”




Buffy dipped her lashes again, suddenly shy. But then she figured after what they'd been up to, shy was next to useless, so she lifted her head and brazened it out.




“Afternoon, or evening. What time is it?”




“Not sure, but from the feeling in my bones I'd figure it for about two hours from sundown.”




“Right, then we'd better move.”




“You got a plan? Cause I've got nothing. Except a sexy smile and tight little body.”




Full on Spike smirk almost had her reaching for him again, but she stopped herself. This short interlude – well, long interlude – was over. They had to focus. She wasn't sure she'd cope with Spike at close quarters for any length of time.




“The plan would involve clothing to start off with.” She was covering her breasts with her hands, raising her eyebrow when Spike failed to turn around.




“Wha'? Think I'm gonna miss the show? And what for? I've seen it all, Slayer. Hell, I've licked most of it.”




Buffy blushed even more, remembering with icy shivers the feel of his tongue rasping against her skin. Damn him! He had to stop doing that...




“Okay, look all you like. You're not gonna touch it ever again anyway. Whatever this was – and I'm going with temporary insanity – it's over. Get dressed.”




“Oooh, bossy little bint aren't you? I like it, the dominatrix tone suits you.”




“Spike! Please...there's a gigantic demon jonesing for our hides. D'you think we could come up with a way to get to it before it gets to us?”




Spike rolled over, flashing Buffy an enticing view of his butt and muscled back that had her drooling and muttering under her breath. Spike grinned as he pulled on his jeans; he'd heard every word. So, he'd 'be the death' of her, would he? Hell yeah, wasn't that the truth. As soon as they'd vanquished their common enemy. No reason why he couldn't kill her then, was there?




+ + + +




They'd waited until sundown then grabbed some snackfoods – human – and some blood – pig – and turned the Desoto round to head back to the cemetery where they'd encountered the demon the night before. Spike was none too happy at his enforced animal diet, but bearing in mind Buffy had refused to even sit in the car if he 'took care of it' himself, he'd caved, figuring that the sooner they got this over and done with the sooner he could fill himself up on Slayer blood. Or at least, in theory...




Buffy cringed as he swigged back the dark red gloop, forcibly wiping the image from her mind. That 's what a vampire was, a bloodsucker – not some sex-god you could go all night with. Well, yeah, you could, but you should never forget their true nature.




“Sorry to offend your sensitive gut, Slayer. Vamp's gotta eat, and I need to keep my strength up after our little – well, big – shagfest.”




“Gah! You make me crazy. Let's just get this over with.”




Spike floored the accelerator, laughing with delight at baiting the Slayer. It was joyful! He'd not had such fun in forever. The girl got to him, somehow, and despite his best efforts and the reminders to himself that she was the Slayer and therefore needed to die a horrible death, he found himself less and less looking forward to being responsible for her cooling body. Gruffly, he asked her about the plan one more time.




“So, your entire carefully thought out strategy consists of 'get it'? Kinda light on plot, don't you think?”




“I'm going with your strengths, Spike. Not big in the brain department are you, so I thought I'd keep it simple.”




Spike growled at her. Arrogant bitch; if she only knew just how educated he really was. “Yeah, what makes you think just going in blind will do the job, Slayer? Didn't see either me or you making much of a dent on the kid, how's it gonna work on the mummy?”




“We didn't go get it together, did we? I was knocked out and you were just tickling it with your weak-ass kicks and punches. I figure if we fight as a team, both at once, we can take it down. I haven't met a demon yet that doesn't fall over on its back for Buffy Summers.”




“So I'd heard...”




“Pig.”




“Yeah, you got it right, Slayer.” Spike drove the car aggressively, whistling tunelessly and setting Buffy's teeth on edge. Just as she drew breath to tell him to stop, the Desoto swerved and Spike screeched “There! Look at the bugger go.”




The enormous beast was lumbering towards the beach area, roaring and drooling from its maw. Screaming tourists were darting left and right out of its path and Buffy barely waited for the car to stop before she was out and off after it. Spike cranked the parking brake and raced after her, catching her up in a few strides. They looked at each other, grinning as the adrenaline of the chase flooded through them, both of them creatures of the hunt. Without speaking, Buffy broke left and Spike right, skidding to a halt in front of the monster.




It stopped, scenting the air, then howled, its arms raised as it recognised its prey. Suddenly Buffy regretted the simplicity of the plan. Maybe a rocket launcher would have been better...




“Slayer!” Spike snarled at her just as he launched himself at the gargantuan demon, pummeling it in its stomach. It hardly moved, just lowered its head to focus on the gnat daring to sting it. Buffy punched it hard on the opposite side of its body, ducking the swinging arm that it brought round in slow motion. As she was going down she continued to dip, kicking between its legs as she lay on the floor. It growled and spat drool that hissed on contact with the floor.




“Corrosive – mind out!” Spike yelled at her, Buffy ducking behind the demon and jumping up to spin kick it on its spine. It yelped, Buffy kicking it again in the same spot. The creature turned its head and snarled right at Buffy, the saliva dripping in strings from its mouth.




“Yeah, ugly! That hurt didn't it? Want some more?”




Spike punched from the front as Buffy concentrated on the tender spot she'd found, swapping when the creature spun this way and that, not slowing much but looking confused at the dual attack.




“Slayer! Looks like the beast's big on body low on brain, kinda like a chicken. How about we cut its head off?”




“With?”gasped Buffy as she continued her kicking and punching.




“I dunno, do I! It's your plan.”




“Okay, you keep it interested – I'll be back in a sec.”




“Oh no, you keep it interested. I'm not playing chew-toy while you skedaddle.”




“Spike – shut up and just do what I say for once.”




Before he could respond, he had to duck a meaty arm and dodge some flying spittle, and by the time he was upright Buffy had hightailed it off into the night. He started dancing round the beast to confuse it, kicking it and punching it in turn, always making sure he got a direct hit on the one weak spot they'd managed to find. One weak spot...right; why bother with the head when its Achilles heel was already looking sore and inflamed. Spike mistimed a hit and found himself skidding along the floor on his back, the creature tottering towards him. Before it got to him, Spike vaulted up and ducked its talons to run behind it and kick it again.




The sound of running feet was music to his ears; he only hoped it was the Slayer running back towards him. It was. She'd managed to find a saw from somewhere, rusty but with wicked teeth, and in her other hand she held an iron railing. That would be his. A spike. He grabbed it from her, weighing it in his hand and grinning like a maniac. Ah, it took him back to his first slaughter in London right after he was turned. Nothing like skewering a victim. Happy times.




Buffy was round the front and him at the back, and Spike barked out orders at the Slayer, expecting her to obey. His tone brooked no disobedience; they were fighting for their lives. “Slayer, you go for the neck, I'll stick it to her in the back; maybe we'll get lucky. On three...one, two...THREE!”




They struck as one, Buffy's saw biting into the neck but lodging in bone after a few strokes; it had the creature off balance though and when Spike forced the railing into the spine and through the stomach, it staggered then dropped to its knees on the floor, clawing behind it to remove the railing. It couldn't reach. Buffy took the opportunity to dislodge the saw and brought it round again to bite into the neck on the other side. Blood was spurting from the wound, yellow as pus. Spike took a running jump and kicked out with both feet to lay the demon flat. It gave out an inhuman squeal, one side of its neck opening up where the saw had bitten in, still clawing at its back. Buffy twisted the railing viciously, the creature howling...and then it was still.




Buffy dropped to her knees panting, noticing the singed sleeves of her shirt where the saliva had spotted her. Yet another item of clothing going to the great laundry basket in the sky. She really should be given a clothing allowance...or a wage, either would do.




Spike stood tall, revelling in the slaughter, eyeing the kill with satisfied eyes. He smirked as he turned to face Buffy, offering his hand to help her up. She took it gratefully, before realising what she'd done. It was too late though, they were touching. Her heat radiated through his fingers and without conscious thought he wrapped her in his arms, looking down on her with stormy eyes. Buffy couldn't look away; her heart beat faster and faster as his lips descended on hers, her fingers finding their way to the soft curls at the nape of his neck as she devoured his mouth.




Buffy pushed him away eventually so that she could drag in a breath, her eyes luminous in the moonlight. Spike stroked her hair away from her face, cupping her chin in one hand while retaining hold of her around her waist.




“Buffy...” his voice was whisper soft and filled with wonder. What the hell was going on? He had to get away from her or he was going to be hers to command; the inner poet knew it and was urging him on. The demon had other ideas of what he wanted for the Slayer. Either way, if he got involved with the Slayer he'd be no better than his sorry excuse for a grandsire. No; it was high time he left and found Dru, got drunk in her dark mystery and bathed in the blood of innocents.




But it was so hard to leave Buffy Summers when she looked so...edible. He toyed with his original plan of eating her...but that wasn't what the demon wanted. The demon wanted to possess her, claim her. He had to get away, what with the poet and the demon both urging him on to the unnatural act.




Spike gazed deep into the Slayer's eyes; Buffy gazed back. She had no idea what was going on right now, but she knew if she stayed there a second longer she'd promise him anything just for one more kiss. And the way he was looking at her, hungrily, longingly...




Abruptly, Spike broke off the connection, dropping her hand and turning away. His voice was gruff when he spoke.




“Gotta go, Slayer, Dru's probably miles away by now. And now that our little truce is over, I'm not anxious to meet the business end of your stake. So, I'll say goodbye. Next time we meet...”




“Yeah, I know – I'll kill you. Same here. But thanks...you know for...” Buffy gestured to the inert body of the demon behind them.




“My pleasure.” He smirked at the pun, but his heart wasn't in it. What had started off as a quick shag just because he could, had ended up with him questioning everything that had happened and just what he would do next time he met the Slayer. He shook his head and stalked off to the Desoto, risking a glance back over his shoulder to where Buffy stood, silhouetted in moonlight, not moving.




“Goddammit, Slayer. Just go...” he muttered under his breath, cursing. When he looked back again, she'd gone, slipped away into the night. He felt the loss like a fluttering in his long dead heart.




Buffy watched from the shadows as the Desoto's brakelights flickered off and on with Spike's erratic driving, the car finally disappearing in a cloud of dust. She doubted she'd ever feel the same again, already missing the sound of his voice and the touch of his skin. And his kisses...Spike lips, lips of Spike. Was there anything more delicious in the whole, wide world?




“Gah! What is wrong with me! Get a grip, Buffy. You were scared, he's a pig – it happened. It won't happen again. Get over it.”




Her voice broke as she spoke out loud. It hadn't been very convincing, and she walked back to the condo with a tear in her eye. God help her, she may very possibly be falling in love with Spike.




She was doomed.




Spike turned on the radio as he sped away, gritting his teeth in an effort to stop thinking about the bloody Slayer. He couldn't get her out of his head, or his heart. Wily little minx had gotten past his defences and was taking over his whole life. He banged his head on the steering wheel in frustration when the next song came on; maybe somebody was trying to tell him something.




“...bu-ut...ohhhhh, those Su-ummer....Niiiii-ghhhhttts”




Oh, yes...those summer nights. He screeched the Desoto to a stop and turned it around. He was damned already, but maybe he could be damned and happy.




THE END