***Part Three***

"So," Buffy finally spoke up, breaking the silence between them. They had walked in virtual silence from Giles' house to the cemetery. "Drusilla really wanted to turn a child?"

"Yeah," Spike admitted wryly. "I think she wanted someone in our family to be more childlike than she was. Sadly, though, I think a child would have been more mature than she was eventually. Physically no, but mentally as the years went by it would have been. And good lord, what age do you decide you want your child to be for eternity?"

"You wanted to help her though. I admired that. Not the killing things way you wanted to go about doing it."

"Nah, I wanted to help myself more than anything. God, she was tiring toward the end there. Needy, weak, sometimes she couldn't even finish turning someone or finishing them off. I'd have to go in and clean up her messes. Like I said I never wanted a child, but at times being with her was like having one. And once Angelus was gone, well, Darla went off with the Master, as you know and I was stuck with Angelus' problem."

"Stuck with? You seemed pretty cozy to me."

"Well, sure, I loved her in my own way don't get me wrong, one hundred twenty years with someone will do that. She was twisted like I was, but after Angel became Angelus again a while back," he shrugged, finding his hands very interesting just then. "Everything changed after that. We left town as you know and nothing was right after that."

"So it was Angel's fault?"

"I didn't say that."

"Do you know where she is?"

"No clue and no desire to know either. I'm better off without her. Especially now. Hell, do you think she would lift a finger to help me right now? No, she would leave me to fend for myself."

"I'm helping you. What does that say about me?"

"You're not insane, Buffy," he said but was stopped from saying more by two vamps coming onto the scene.

Patrolling was her gig and Spike waited for her to signal which vamp she wanted. Sure, somewhere inside of him the gentleman who had been taught that women were the weaker sex and therefore needed protection still existed. That part of him wanted to go after the biggest, baddest vampire and let her take the lesser one, but Buffy rarely let him do that. She was the Slayer and he was a chipped vampire who got his jollies off killing his own kind.

He would think about his pathetic situation later. Buffy had chosen her vamp, Spike took a stake out of his duster's pocket and went after his. Vamps did not particularly care for their own kind hunting them. As a result, Spike's run-ins with his vamps leaned toward the unnecessarily violent. Some when coming up against Buffy while giving their best knew they were about to be bested by the Slayer. No vamp wanted to be bested by another vampire. Spike assumed this was, whether she knew it or not, part of the reason Buffy always left him with the weaker vamps, to protect him. Instinct kicked in over feelings sometimes.

His vamp taken care of without much ado, a few bruises here and there and some rib damage was all, Spike turned to find the vamp on Buffy having gotten the upper hand. She was up against the stone wall of a crypt and the vamp was not paying much attention to Spike or his vampire friend. Good. Using the vamp's inattention and his own quickness to his advantage, Spike was on the vamp, a stake driven through his heart from the back.

The vampire turned to dust, leaving Spike standing flush against the Slayer. It had not been the worst either of them had ever seen, but the vamps had gotten some good licks in on both of them. One hand on the stone wall of the crypt near her ear, his other hand slowly dropped his stake into his duster pocket. She was not shouting at him to get away from her and Spike was in no hurry to draw away.

They were not far from his crypt so he would be able to go home to some more blood and rest in no time. Buffy had to walk back to campus. She was short of breath, he was too, though he did not need to breathe to survive. She did on the other hand. His eyes dropped to her neck and the pounding pulse point there. He could smell her excitement and her nervousness at almost having been bested and perhaps because Spike was looming large over her. The scent of blood was in the air as well, hers. He licked his lips slowly debating about testing whether the chip would let him feed on a willing donor, but decided against it.

"Are you all right, Slayer?"

"Yeah, I don't know what happened there. Got distracted I guess."

"Don't mention it, Goldilocks." Still he made no effort to move away from her, she made none to push him away.

He was close enough he could feel the beating of her heart against his duster. Perhaps it was because he was in tune from being so focused on it. He could almost hear it pounding in his own ears, part of that was because he was so familiar with her now. He sniffed lightly, trying to pick up on what she was feeling but found it difficult to detect anything beyond apprehension which was understandable.

Before the moment and opportunity was gone he leaned forward and kissed her. The only part of him touching her was his mouth, he was careful to avoid touching any more of her than he had to. Less seemed to be the key with Buffy. Where that thought came from he was not sure, he did not make a habit out of worrying what the key to Buffy was.

He was gentle as he kissed her, hesitant only because he expected his cheek to be met with the palm of her hand at any moment. She made no effort to strike him, her hands remained pressed against the crypt's wall but she returned the kiss. He was aware of the fact the kiss had moved beyond friendly as they prolonged it, thoughts of ending it were pushed aside when he felt her hands in his hair. She was not just kissing him back but encouraging him to deepen it.

Instinctively, his body moved closer, pressing against hers, her curves fitting perfectly against him. He would love to use his hands and feel those curves, the warmth of her skin against his cool hands but he was letting her set the pace. If this was that bloody force still at work there would be hell to pay.

"I see you're real torn up over our argument. To think I came here looking for you to apologize for running off like that," Riley said, his voice laced with bitterness and hurt. Spike could smell the anger on him as he pulled away from Buffy. He did not look at the other man; his eyes were focused entirely on Buffy.

"Bloody perfect timing," he muttered under his breath, loud enough for the just in front of him Buffy to hear. The look that she gave him would have given his heart wings if he had one to take flight. She looked sorry and displeased. And those emotions were not directed at him.

"Riley," she said as Spike stepped out of the way.

"No wonder you haven't wanted me to patrol with you lately. I guess I'd interfere with you kissing your vampire husband."

"Riley, it's not what it looks like."

"I have eyes, Buffy. I should have known. I should have put two and two together when I learned Spike's name and it was the same as the guy you said you were going to marry."

"But we're not. I mean, he's Spike. He's gross."

"It didn't look to me like you were too grossed out a minute ago. If you were pulling him any closer you wouldn't have needed two bodies."

Spike was purposely silent during their exchange. He had walked to the rear of the crypt and leaned against it, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were hidden from view by the fact he stood in the shadows. This was not his argument. There were things he could say, but they would not help his case. Silence was golden was a phrase he did not adhere to often, but now seemed like a good time to do it.

"You walked out on me. Need I remind you of that? I don't recall there ever being the title of boyfriend or girlfriend to our relationship. I told you I needed time to figure myself out. Kissing Spike. Okay, that is not a part of the Buffy figuring out plan." She sighed, Spike could tell she was frustrated.

"How can you kiss him? He drinks blood for crying out loud."

"Well, meat is a part of an animal. Blood is, too. All part of the same thing. We eat meat."

"Now you're making excuses for him."

"I am not. I'm not responsible for what he is either. I was not there in the eighteen hundreds to turn him."

"But your ex-boyfriend was. He was Spike's sire or grandsire, wasn't he?"

"So?"

"And you don't find that a little sick?"

"Jesus, Riley, I kissed him. He saved my life. The vampire went puff and there he was. We kissed. No big."

"Maybe to you it's not, Buffy, but I don't just kiss anyone."

"I don't normally either. It just happened. Get over it already."

"We have sex and you run off into another man's arms and I'm supposed to just get over it?"

She poked his chest with a finger and pushed against him. She was pissed now and Spike looked forward to the tongue lashing he was going to witness without being on the receiving end of. "We did not have sex. A force used us to gain power. If it weren't for Spike it sounds like we wouldn't have been able to be used. I did not go to that party as your girlfriend or to have sex with you. I'm sorry if you can't understand that. Tonight does not change anything."

"How can you say that?"

"Not a conscious decision. Hello? I'm going to change my mind because some mystical powers put us in a bed together?"

"Well, no, but I didn't expect to see you making out with a vampire a few hours later."

"Wasn't intentional, but I'll take responsibility for it before I will what happened between us earlier."

"I don't understand you. We're on the same side, aren't we? You slay demons and I capture them."

"Well, let's see. Your boss tried to kill me. You are toying with nature, altering beings without knowing what it's going to do to them. I don't think you take me seriously. You think because you've got the big guns and the backing of the US government that you're somehow better than me. Or your way is right and mine is wrong. And I don't think you like it very much that I can take you."

Spike watched as Riley ran a hand through his hair and mentally chided the moron for staying as long as he had. Soldier Boy needed to get on home and leave Buffy alone so she and Spike could finish what they started. They were not going to resolve anything tonight. He pushed himself from the wall and walked purposely to Buffy's side.

"It sounds to me, Soldier Boy, like she's giving you the heave ho for now. Take the hint and head for the hills. We still have patrolling to do."

Riley grabbed a hold of Spike's shirtfront, his hand balled into a fist and he pulled Spike toward him. Spike tried not to be frightened, but hell this bloke could kill him. He would do it, too, and without batting an eyelash about it. "You stay out of this, Hostile 17. Perhaps I should take you back like I should have weeks ago."

"Riley," Buffy interjected and stepped between them. It did not take much exertion on her part to get Riley's fist dislodged from Spike's shirtfront and Spike brushed his hand over the wrinkled patch straightening it out some. "Just go home. Preying on a defenseless person isn't going to win you any points. I need time. You need time. As far as you and I goes, tonight did not happen. It cannot play a part in our decision."

"He's not a person, Buffy. I think you need to remember that." He looked from Buffy to Spike and back again. "You'd stop me from bringing him back into custody?"

"Damn straight. I know what Spike's capable of without that chip. I'm glad he's not out there sucking blood out of people and killing them. But I'm not going to let you use him like a guinea pig. I may not want to be his wife. But he's not a bad guy. He's saved my ass the past few weeks more times than I can count. And he understands me, understands the Slayer part of me."

"You don't give me the chance."

Buffy stepped back and gestured to herself with her hand. "This is me. Buffy. Slayer. Same person. You want me to be two different people and I can't. I am the Slayer and I am Buffy. They co-exist."

"I know that."

"I don't think you do," she said, placing a hand at her forehead. Spike could almost feel her headache coming on. "Just please go home, Riley, and let us finish patrolling so I can get some sleep tonight."

"You're going to go home with him, aren't you?"

"What? No. Ew. We patrol, he goes one way and I go the other."

"Yeah, but you like vampires, Buffy. You do. You loved one and," he said, inclining his thumb at Spike, "you like this one. Sometimes you treat him better than you treat me."

Spike's head snapped to attention at that. He had noticed it, but he was not so sure Buffy had. Over the past couple of months Buffy had come to treat him better, to treat him like a man rather than monster. The whole marriage thing withstanding, he had felt a sort of kinship with the Slayer. Neither of them really belonged anywhere, he in the vampire world she in the human world. Riley might have ruined it. Bloody bastard. Now that it had been pointed out to her, she might go out of her way to treat him like crap again. He would prefer it not come to that.

If Riley had noticed, it must have been more obvious than Spike realized. Perhaps that was why their arguments the past few weeks had been so intense. Had the others noticed it? Spike was almost sure they had not, Giles would have said something if he noticed. Spike was more aware of his feelings for the Slayer than he ordinarily would have been because of the arguments he had with Drusilla about Buffy Summers.

Spike had contented himself with living with his feelings, whatever they were. Never would he have imagined the Slayer returning them on any level. He was not Angel, Angel had a soul where Spike had none. He had a bloody chip in his neck that prevented him from feeding, killing, and fighting. That was all that kept him from being the monster she was so quick to categorize him as.

"You know, Riley, if you really cared about me, about us, you would have left me alone. Or at least left a while ago like I asked. But you haven't, you just stand here arguing on my time. If I were interrupting you on one of your patrolling shifts you or one of your men would ride me about distracting you. I have to work. Buffy's not very happy right now. A cranky Buffy makes a sloppy Slayer. Sloppy Slayer's end up dead. So please go. Shoo."

"Fine," he said.

Spike offered him a wicked smile with a wink. "Night, Soldier Boy."

"You keep your hands off of her."

"You scare me."

"I should."

"Slayer here would stop you, even if I can't. You heard her, she likes having me on her team."

"She's not going to be around you every second of every day."

"Riley. If he comes up missing I will start with you. You don't want to piss me off. Not when it comes to my friends."

"He'd stab you in the back the first opportunity he had."

"Maybe. A year ago, six months ago, hell three months ago I would have agreed with you. But now," Buffy shrugged. "He's saved my life more than once. And he doesn't get in my way when we're patrolling."

"I do?"

"I wasn't saying that. He's more like a partner. Like Angel was. I like it," she admitted. "I like knowing the person with me is strong and fast and I don't have to worry about them getting killed."

"Sounds like you two should be married. A match made in heaven. I'm out of here," he said before turning to walk away from them.

"Did you mean all that," Spike asked once Riley was out of earshot.

"Yeah," Buffy said softly. She looked up, meeting his gaze. Her eyes registered surprise. "Yeah, I did. It's one of the things I miss about Angel. I don't need the help, you know that. I'm the only Slayer in history who has anyone but my Watcher helping me. But it helps. It helps keep the nights from being so lonely. It helps keep the blood from getting to me. Tainting me. I can't explain that to Giles. Sometimes I wake up and I see it. I see the blood and the dust from all of my kills and it's frightening."

"Slayer, I doubt you're the only one, whether it be Slayer, soldier, or what have you. It gets to you after a while. If it didn't," he shrugged. "Well, if it didn't you wouldn't be human. You'd be like me."

"Like you used to be you mean."

"I still am, Slayer. Don't let this chip fool you. You and I and your little band of do gooders might have come to a truce, but this chip comes out and the Big Bad is back to being the Big Bad of all."

"I don't believe you'd go back to being just like you were."

"Slayer, you and your band of merry men excluded, I would. I hunt, I feed, I kill, sometimes I kill just for the fun of it. That's what I do. I have my good moments, sure. We all do."

"No, Spike, you all don't," she said simply. Spike regarded her for a moment, realizing she was talking about his race. "I haven't liked any vampires other than Angel. And all right, you. Angel's curse made him a good person because he felt remorse. He really wasn't a very good human though his first go around. You. I don't know what it is. It's not just the chip. You're actually sort of humany underneath it all."

"Great," he said. "I'm not sure what I like better. The Slayer wanting me slayed because I'm the Big Bad or the Slayer wanting me saved because I'm redeemable."

"You could have gone off on your own once you figured out you could kill demons, but yet you still hang out with us. And even when you aren't patrolling with me I know you're around. I feel you. I had that connection with Angel, too. I always know when the two of you are around."

It wasn't the rest of the ‘us' he chose to hang out with, it was merely the leader of the ‘us' he for whatever sadistic reason wanted to be around. He could do without the comparisons to Angel, but if it endeared her to him for whatever reason he was not going to argue that he was not Angel. "Yeah, well, you amuse me. What can I say?"

"Amuse?"

"Something like that, yeah."

"Lie much?"

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Yeah," he said cautiously. He was saved from having to say more by the appearance of a vamp, only one so Spike let her handle it. He would step in to lend a helping hand, or stake as it were, if she was struggling. He was glad for the distraction, anything so he would not have to talk about feelings. He had thought until tonight he could control them. But picturing her with Riley had awakened something in him that had been gone for over a century.

If he were human or had a soul as Angel did she might not mind being with him in every sense of the word. He wanted her, it was as simple as that, in whatever way he could have her. At first his not granting her an annulment was just as he said, a life insurance policy, but as the weeks passed he kept thinking that maybe, just maybe. It was stupid to think that, they would never be anything but adversaries on somewhat friendly or neutral terms at best. At least he had not believed so until tonight when they kissed.

She had kissed him back, she had pulled him to her, she had pressed herself against him, and she had stood up to her boyfriend about him. That had to say something, right? Perhaps if he were to put a little bit of effort into winning her affections, showing her he was not all bad she would see things differently.

She had not needed his help so he had been left standing there with his thoughts running through his head, infecting him like some sort of disease. The idea of Buffy loving him was ridiculous, nearly as ridiculous as a vampire being in love with the Slayer. The vamp she took on earlier had hurt her worse than Spike realized and as soon as this vamp was dusted she crumpled to the ground gripping her side. He had forgotten with Captain Boy Scout coming onto the scene that she was hurt bad enough to bleed, bad enough that he smelled her blood. This latest vamp was not careless and attacked her where she was wounded. As if her scent was not permeating within him already now he had to deal with the strong scent of her blood mixed in with the rest of her.

He fell to his knees beside her on the ground, a hand moving to push her hair away from her face. He kept his fingers there, in her hair. "Buffy. Slayer. Let's get you back to your room so Willow can doctor you up."

She opened her eyes and looked right into his eyes and he could not help but smile slightly. She made him nervous lying so still. "I don't think she's there. She hasn't been coming home all the time."

"Oh really," Spike said a little impressed. His hand seemed to have a mind of its own and continued stroking her hair. She did nothing to stop him. "A new man?"

She shook her head a little. "I don't know. I don't think so. If it is I haven't met him. She's been hanging out with this witch a lot, Tara. I think they do spells and stuff and she crashes there some nights."

"All right. Well, you need to have that gash looked at."

"It's not that bad."

"Don't lie to me. I can smell it, Slayer. And I haven't known you to lie on the ground for this long when you're not hurt. I know you've got Slayer healing powers, but you still have to bandage it up."

"All right. Promise not to be a pig?"

"When you ask like that how can I resist?"

"If you promise I'll let you do it. Even if Willow is home she'll be sleeping. I'm not going to wake her up."

"I'll get you back to your dorm then and patch you up there."

"You don't have to do that."

He stood slowly and shrugged. Why did she have to be so difficult about taking him up on his offer of help? "I didn't say I had to. I could leave you here bleeding on the ground until you got up and walked away, but I don't want to do that."

She took his offered hand and stood, Spike noticed her hesitancy and the side she favored. She regarded him curiously and he wondered what she was looking for. She frowned and he thought he was done for, in trouble for something he was not even aware of having done. It always worked like that, he tried to be nice to her, tried to help her and she turned it around, twisted it into something perverse or evil. "Are we getting along," she queried.

Spike was caught off guard by the question and paused. He nodded then finally. "I guess we are at that, Slayer," he shrugged. "Now, let's get back to your room and then you can go to bed. I can do one last go round on my way back to the crypt."

"Sounds good."

"All right then," he said, starting them walking in the direction of campus. "So are you going to try and make up with the Boy Scout?"

"I don't know. How can we go back to what we were before after tonight? Not just, uh, him seeing me kissing you either. Force or not, we had sex."

"Yes, you did," Spike said distastefully.

"Jealous much," she said, glancing sideways at him. Gratefully, they were walking through a darker section of the cemetery with no lighting so she could not see his reaction to her words. He still felt caught and very exposed.

"I've been spending a good bit of time with you is all. Without this chip I could take care of him for you."

"Like I can't take care of him myself?"

"Right. Of course you can. Not what I meant. Girls like that I thought. A guy rushing to her defense and everything."

"Well sure. If you were a normal guy and I was a normal girl. But you're not and I'm not. Slayers don't need vampires coming to their defense."

"Need I point out what happened earlier tonight?"

"True, it does come in handy from time to time." Spike could tell by her tone she was smiling and gave her one in return. As much as he enjoyed the battles of wits he and the Slayer engaged in, he rather enjoyed holding a conversation with her. Before the chip he would never have thought of talking to the girl no matter what Dru insisted his feelings for her were. Now he had time on his hands and he found he was curious to know who this chosen girl was. She at least treated him decently at times, which was more than he could say for a lot of humans who knew what he was.

The walk back to her dorm did not take as long as Spike might have liked. They actually talked without arguing along the way, the subject of Riley was avoided as was any topic that might spur an argument. It was a new experience for Spike, talking to the Slayer without the intent to bother, harass or hurt her.

"She's not here then, eh," he said unnecessarily as they entered the dark and empty dorm room.

"No," Buffy said. "I guess she's staying at Tara's," she said after reading the note Willow had left her saying she would see Buffy in the morning.

"So I guess it's me doctoring you up. Where are your supplies?"

"Supplies?"

"Antiseptic, bandages, you know supplies."

"Oh yeah. Right." She opened her closet and pulled out her supplies chest.

"You keep your first aid supplies with your slayer stuff?"

"Sure. People might wonder why I need all this stuff. Especially as often as I do. Not to mention the Slayer healing powers. It's best people not know."

"Good point," he said as she brought the box of supplies from the chest to the bed. "I'll bet you keep Johnson & Johnson from going under."

"Mr. Eighteen hundreds making a joke about the stock market, I'm impressed."

"Just making an observation. You do get hurt a lot." He sat on the edge of the bed near the supplies box and rummaged through it. "What will we need? I haven't seen how badly you're hurt, but I can smell that you are still bleeding."

"Big ick factor there, Spike. It's best not to talk about that."

"What?"

"It's creepy."

"I'm just concerned is all. Now, let's get this done."

"In a hurry? Have plans tonight? A date?"

"Hardly."

"Then what's the hurry?"

"Slayer. We've gotten along for about an hour now consecutively. I'm not ready to sign a peace treaty or anything."

"Oh," she said and Spike thought he saw disappointment there.

"If you don't want me to leave right away, you could just say so. But let's get you bandaged up before you pass out from loss of blood."

"It's not that bad."

"I know it's not but still. Come on, stand in front of me and move the shirt out of the way."

"No touching."

"Slayer, I have to touch you if I'm going to do this."

"No touching beyond that."

"Pet, it sounds to me like you don't trust yourself. Doesn't Soldier Boy kiss you like I did earlier?"

"We hadn't really gotten to that part."

"Not anymore."

"Well, sure, but I don't count tonight," she said, lifting her shirt out of the way so he could tend to the gash below her ribs.

"He must not have been very good or you'd not just count it but jump up and down about it, wanting more of it without the force."

"You think too much about my sex life."

"Someone has to. You haven't made very good decisions in the past." He glanced at her mindful of the position they were in. With her standing in front of him while he sat on the bed he had quite a view.

"Angel was a decision, Riley was not. I don't know what you were. A spell induced decision?"

"And the other bloke? The party boy who changes girlfriends rather," he paused, trying to be somewhat tactful, "frequently."

"Yeah, well, everyone's allowed one mistake."

"Oh, I don't think the doing part was your mistake. The mooning after him was. He didn't deserve you, even if he had wanted you."

She took a sharp intake of breath as he started to clean the wound. "Thanks. I felt like an idiot afterward. I had no idea. I still wonder if I did something wrong."

"It happens to the best of us. One night stands are nothing to be embarrassed about."

"I should have known after Angel."

"Known what?"

"That slaying is all I'm good at. Boys and love and beds I'm bad at."

He grimaced slightly as he struggled with the bandage. He had to use a gauze pad and medical tape because of the odd shape of the gash. Thankfully he did not need to be as gentle with her as he would a normal human. His hands pressing near the gash were not sending her into a fainting fit.

"Well, speaking as a man who has kissed you, quite a bit one night in particular if you'll recall, I think you are too hard on yourself. You make it sound like the problem is with you."

"Well, what else could it be? I mean Angel and then Parker."

"Angel losing his soul was not your fault, Buffy."

"No," she said abruptly.

Spike knew there was more and waited, but she said nothing further. She obviously had a complex about sex, Angel had done something to make her believe she had done something wrong. He would love the opportunity to prove to her that the problem did not lie with her. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

"You don't count."

He tried not to let her see that her comment bothered him. He was unaccustomed to feeling human things like hurt. Until recently if someone said something to piss him off he just took care of them. He could no longer do that, though. "Well, I am a man and we shared a bed and I haven't gone off on a rampage trying to kill you and your friends. And I kissed you tonight."

"Mm hmm," she said softly.

Spike was pleasantly surprised when her hands rested on his shoulders. She was tired and had experienced some blood loss tonight, so she was probably just a little weak and needed the support. Right and he no longer needed blood to survive.

"So that obviously means I wasn't dissatisfied with the first go round." He was done seeing to the gash on her abdomen, but his hands remained there. A thumb grazed the tape against her skin. He grew curious if her skin would redden when she removed it in a day or so once the gash had healed. "Slayer," he whispered. Her skin under his hands was soft and warm, pale but in a creamy white, delicate way that was very human. The idea of it being red from the adhesive was abhorrent to him. "Buffy," he corrected.

"Spike."

He closed his eyes at the sound of his name, her voice resembling that of one in need. He would like to believe she needed him, wanted him. He called himself a man a moment ago, but they both knew who and what he was - and what he was not. He set his cheek against her stomach, feeling her body's heat, hearing her heart beat, taking in her scent.

Her hands at his shoulders reached inside his shirt. One hand found the nape of his neck, her fingertips working into his hair. Her other hand drew his face away from her, took hold of his chin and kissed him full on the mouth. Her lips muted his sound of surprise. She was kissing him. Unsure of just what brought this on he was skeptical. If Willow had been working her magick again, Spike would have a word or two with her. Later. For now, he pushed thoughts of anything but the Slayer and her killer body out of his mind.

His hands skimmed along her abdomen until they rested at either hip, drawing her to him. She took the hint and straddled him. As if he was not already turned on, now he had her sitting on him and rubbing against him. She had just gotten some earlier that evening, but it apparently had not satisfied her because she wanted more. He would probably regret this tomorrow, but tomorrow was not tonight.

He slid a hand from her hip to her abdomen, unfastening her jeans and parting the front of them. His hand slid inside the waistband, fingertips grazing the tops of her panties and stopped. He expected an argument but he got instead her shifting on his lap, allowing his hand to reach better. His hand inside of her panties, he heard a groan and could not be sure if it came from her or him.

She moved against him, against his hand but he was not ready to get her off just yet. He slid his hand lower still, letting her rub her sensitive core against the palm of his hand while he entered her. She was hot and wet around his finger, gripping his finger like a vice. His mouth fell to her neck where he sucked and bit, pleased that the chip allowed him to do that much.

The sounds she made inspired him. Words he had never imagined saying to her were whispered in her ear as his fingers worked at bringing her a release. Her hand around his neck tightened, her nails digging into his skin at the side of his neck as she rubbed against him with wild abandon. He encouraged her, verbally and without words, and was rewarded with a genuine release on her part. She had not held back, had not been afraid to let herself go and had not been afraid to move to bring about the best ending for herself. And to top it off, a whispered "Spike" had accompanied her climax. Not Angel, not Riley, no one's name but his.

Breathlessly, she pressed against him, her face buried against his neck almost as if she was trying to hide. His hand had stilled but remained where it had been, he was no where near done touching her, loving her. There was time yet before the sun rose and he planned on using it well. If she wanted to hide he would let her, for a little while.

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