Spike was wide awake.

He traced the soft curves of the girl who slumbered peacefully beside him and smiled. It wasn't any wonder that she was knocked out; she'd just let him drink from her -- and in new and uncharted territory to boot. Nevertheless, slayer blood always made him high, and he had to do something.

First things first, a smoke.

Quietly, he slipped out of bed and pulled on his jeans and t-shirt. Fetching his jacket from the floor, he crept past the snoring Dawn's room, downstairs and out to the front porch.

Well, the streetlights were back on. That was a relief.

He opened his pack of Marlboros and cursed. Empty.

Crumpling it up and tossing it aside, Spike made his way out into the night.

All-night drugstore. Not far.

* * *

Buffy was having a great dream.

She was on the waterslide, naked, and Spike was behind her, under her, kissing her. No, he was licking her... He was licking her from front to back... especially back...

Her eyes fluttered open. She was on her stomach in her bed. That last part? Not a dream.

Every centimeter of skin between her thighs was thoroughly drenched. How much of it was care of Spike's talented mouth or her own overactive juices, she couldn't tell. All she knew was that it felt very, very good.

"Spike?"

One hand on each swell of her buttocks, Spike hummed languidly, "Mmm?"

"What are you doing...?"

"Mm." He lifted his head. "Nothing. Go back to sleep."

She giggled. "That might be a little impossible."

"Alright then," he said, climbing up her back. "Guess you'll have to witness the debauchery."

"What kinda debauchery are we talkin' here?" she asked with a slow-spreading smile.

He said into her ear, "The worst kind," and started to unbuckle his belt.

"Mm," she approved, then wondered, "Why are you dressed?"

"Had to get cigs. And this." Before her face, he waved one of the tubes he'd nicked from the drug store.

Buffy focused. "Astroglide?"

"Yep." He squeezed a small amount into his hand.

"Um, honey? I don't think I need--"

He pushed a finger into her tightest entryway.

"Oh." She tensed around his hand. "The naughty place."

"Yeah," he said. "Now unclench."

"I don't know if I can."

"Shhhhh," he murmured into her ear, "you knew I'd do this again sooner or later. Just relax. Trust me. It won't hurt."

"Says you," she said snidely, but relaxed anyway.

He slipped another finger in. "You can't pretend you didn't love this."

"I really don't remember... mmmuch..."

Another finger. "It neutralized the power of a hundred-plus pheromone demons, didn't it?"

"Yeah-huh..."

"Meaning," he interpreted, "it was the best bloody fuck of your life. Now let me reprise so you remember it." Keeping his fingers inside her, he sheathed his cock with lubricant.

It was all happening so fast. "You'll stop if I tell you?"

"Sure," he lied, confident that she'd tell him no such thing. He carefully pulled his fingers out and nestled himself in the cleft between her buttocks.

"Spike--"

"We'll go slow. Just the tip for now, I swear it."

She exhaled, "Okay."

As he finessed his way in, she inhaled sharply, distracted by a stab of pain. If that was just the tip...

He pulled her up by her stomach and whispered, "Listen to me, Buffy. You have to get it past this point."

"Me?"

"It's like a barrier. Push back, love. Nice and slow. I got you."

Buffy obeyed, slowly bending her knees and swiveling her hips to accommodate him. "You said it wasn't gonnaOhhhhh...!"

And it was in. All the way. Scorching hot, elastic tight. He sneered, growling, "Bloody..."

"Fuuuck!" she drew out, equal parts incredulous and ecstatic.

His sneer spread into a proud, wicked grin. "Told you."

"Oh... god, Spike!" she swore into her pillow, balling her fists. "So good, don't stop."

Like he'd ever want to. Spike initiated a rhythm, pulling ever so slightly out, pushing all the way in. The lube made it easy, made his movements fluid.

He was warming up inside her, matching her body heat... and taking his sweet time, too.

Signaling a desire to pick up the pace, Buffy reared back hard, forcing him in. "Unh!"

Encouraged, he grabbed hold of her slippery thighs, lifted her up and pumped harder, faster.

She mewed and gasped into her pillow, legs quaking at each stomach-deep stroke.

He plowed in, clenched his teeth and gruffed, "That's right Slayer, take it, such a good girl..."

She reached down to her swollen pussy and rubbed, her hand a blur of urgency.

Feeling his balls tightening, another Olympian orgasm approaching, he coaxed softly, "Come on. Come with me now."

"Not yet! Don't stop!"

"I can start over, Buffy--"

"Please," she begged. "I need more. Please hold it?"

Spike chuckled, dropped her legs and bent over her. "Gonna be the death of me." He grabbed a pillow and stuffed it under her belly, slowing his movements so he could keep himself under control. "Only because you said 'please.'"

She moaned and cooed beneath him. "Love you..."

He closed his eyes in ecstasy and screeched to a halt. "Say that again and it's all over."

"Um... hate you?" she offered, eager to get him to continue.

He shook his head. "That too."

She emitted a hoarse chuckle. "What can I say?"

"Nothing!" he hushed, hips sliding to and fro again. "You should know by now... just about anything you say... gonna set me off."

Bottom lip pouting, she ventured innocently, "You mean like 'fuck me with your big thick cock, Spike?'"

"Ooh..." He sat up and angled her towards him to slap her ass. "Now you're just askin' for it."

With a giggle, she teased just loud enough for him to hear, "Fuck me hard, you bad evil man."

"Oh I will, Slayer," he promised. "I! Will!" He bucked into her recklessly, replacing any further conversation with scattered shouts and grunts.

* * *

Five orgasms, three tubes of Astroglide and one ruined bedspread later, the duo finally crumpled in exhaustion.

The second their faces hit the pillow, the phone rang.

"Oh god," Buffy groaned into the hand that had flown up to cover her mouth for the big bang finale. "Make it stop."

"Jus' ignore it," Spike slurred, lips mashed against her shoulder blade.

"But it could be--"

"Ignore it."

The ringing continued.

"I'm serious. Why would anyone call at..." Buffy uncovered the bedside clock, letting Spike's t-shirt fall to the floor. "Ten forty-five! Oh my god! It's ten forty-five!" Unable to pry her boyfriend off of her back, she managed to pull the phone by its cord. "Hello?"

"Buffy?" Giles asked on the other end of the line. "Are you sleeping?"

"No. No!" Buffy muffled a yawn. "Why would I be doing that?"

"Please, I need you here as soon as possible."

"Ten minutes," she said soberly, and hung up the phone.

"What's up?" Spike asked her neck.

"Apocalypse," grumbled Buffy.

"Oh, right." He kissed her shoulder.

She smiled. "He needs me to come as soon as possible."

"Not a problem." With a determined expression, Spike volunteered for the difficult task. "I'm on top of it." He moved a fraction, and positioned himself properly.

"What do you think you're doing?" she said with a chuckle. "Stop that!"

"Hey look, Watcher's orders, right? Who am I to argue?"

"You know, talking about my Watcher will not get me anywhere near coming."

"Well, that's a relief. Always sort of worried about you two."

Buffy gaped, horrified. "Eew!"

"I know you got a thing for older men..."

"Hey. Giles is way too young for me."

He hooked his chin over her shoulder and murmured, "Then it's settled. One more go before you leave."

"I leave? We leave, you mean."

"We? But--"

"No buts."

Spike laughed. "You sure?"

"Oh god, I can't believe I just said that." Buffy's face hit the pillow in embarrassment. She lifted it again to say, "No more buts of any kind today."

He whined, "But this is the very best kind of butt... Buffy butt."

Buffy gasped. "That was a three-but violation!"

"C'mon," Spike prodded. "One more for the apocalypse. Just might be our last opportunity before the world ends."

"Hm," considered the Slayer. "Good thinking."

Permission granted, he slowly nudged his way back in.

Between grunts and moans, Buffy justified gamely, "Gotta... make every second... mmm..."

THE END