I never cared for being called a hobgoblin.  Real hobglobins are ugly, brute-like creatures.  I, however, am a sprite of good class and breeding.  Otherwise, my master, Oberon would find me quite a boring jester.  If you do not have a sense of dignity, what fun is foolery?

            Now, mortals, bigger fools you'll never find, but there is great fun to be had with them, if you know just the way to...jest with them.

            Take those two there, the two blonds bickering in a cemetery, of all places.  Seemingly odd in most cities, but I find myself in Sunnydale, California, where the last Hell Mouth resides.  

            Emotions and people are all affected by its energy.  Great fun is to be had in such places as this.  Even a time when magic is waning, unbelievers, most mortals are, and even I feel a little zap of power now and then.  Ah...it reminds me of my younger days...but I wander.

            Now take those two blonds, please...sorry, bad joke, I have been known to make them time to time, forgive me.  Those two are the greatest of enemies, but adverse circumstances throw them together.

            He, with a 'sodding chip' in his head, keeping him from doing what he does best.  Namely, killing, and now forced to work for his mortal enemy just to partake in a 'spot of violence.'

            I remember William well from his 'gory' days back in England.  Quite a name he made for himself, I have been interested in him from time to time.  And once again, he draws thine eye.

            And the girl, ah...the girl...no good jest is done without a girl!  Born with the powers of the black ones, (A regular vampire, she is, just without the slight aversion to daylight and other vampire weaknesses...but I suppose the grand old Council she used to work for never divulged that dirty little secret.)  

            She is beautiful, powerful, a warrior...born to fight and die, but she is different then most Slayers, I can already tell.  I have seen many of them in my lifetime, and none are more magnificent then she.  A rebel, going against everything that the Council holds dear...a gem in my eye.  Allowed to love, have friends...and taken a vampire to bed, I am told.  Quite a little hellion, this Buffy Summers.

            As I watch them fight and clash with each other, a good jest forms in my mind.  

            Invisible, I sweep towards them, and touch the back of my William's head.  

            What a grand time he will have when he discovers the chip does not work...

            "Bloody 'ell, Slayer!  I had him!"  

            "He had you, you mean," Buffy retorted, glaring at her unwanted co-worker, "If I didn't step in, he would have killed you..."

            "Oh...and I'm sure you'd have wept over my ashes," Spike snapped, growing aggravated with the pretty Slayer, "It's not like you fucking respect me."

            "You're right...I don't," Buffy replied offhandedly, "You're only helping because you got nothing else to do!  The minute that chip was out of your head, you'd be back to trying to kill me!"

            "Damn straight," Spike grumbled, "And do you have to keep fucking pointing out I'm bloody neutered?  I'm bloody embarrassed enough being seen in public with Barbie!"

            "Barbie?"  Buffy snorted, "All right, Billy...you're one to talk.  The Seventies are dead!  Deal with it!"

            The two blondes stared each other down, and finally, Spike growled, turning away.  Unless he was bucking for one hell of a headache, he'd have to get away from Buffy.  

            Although, according to his theory, he could probably snap her neck before the chip activated...

            He shook his head at that thought.  Even the mere fantasy of killing Buffy caused him pain, so he shoved that from his mind, and focused instead on the area surrounding them.

            "There's no more vamps, Slayer...and I doubt anymore will be rising tonight," he mumbled, and Buffy rolled her eyes, glancing at her watch.

       "You better be right.  I'm missing the frat party because of this crap.  Why Giles won't let me patrol alone is beyond me."

            Probably cause I told him it would be safer for you, Spike thought, then said out loud, "Duh...he thinks you're as incompetent as I do."

            Buffy glared at him again, grabbing her patrol bag, "Whatever, Spike...I kicked your ass plenty of times to not be bothered by that statement."

            "Luck, Slayer!  Just plain, old luck!"  He called to her retreating back, then chuckled as she flipped him off, not answering.  

            As she disappeared, he snarled, kicking over a headstone.  She could have at least asked him if he wanted to come.  He growled at the thought, wondering why in the hell he would care about that.  

            He looked in the direction Buffy had disappeared, and growled again, grabbing his own weapons' bag as he started off towards Giles to report in before heading back to his crypt for a nice bottle of vodka, and then the pleasing, accompanying blackness that followed.

            Shit...and then the Slayer will be on me about drinking myself into a stupor...Spike shook his head with a sigh, deciding he needed his head checked if he was actually caring about what the Slayer thought, and stalked down the graveyard.     

            Interesting, to say the least.  My old friend appears a little enamored of that little Slayer.

            Oh...I just love when a jest gets better and better.  Hmm...I wonder what the Slayer's reaction will be to the next part...

            Buffy groaned as she dropped her bag on the floor of Giles' house, "Seven vamps, six dusted," she announced to her Watcher, and Giles frowned, "Six out of seven?"

            "Spike," Buffy rolled her eyes, "And he almost didn't make it."

            "Ah..." Giles shook his head as he marked something down in his journal, "Still you two cannot get along?"

            "He's Spike, Giles...the single most infuriating male on the planet...and lucky me, I'm stuck with him."

            Giles sighed, wanting to point out the fact that with Spike helping her patrol, it'd be safer, for the both of them, but he held his tongue as said vampire swept into the room, and Giles flinched as the door slammed shut, the sound irritating his already pounding headache.

            Spike's eyes narrowed as he sighted Buffy, then looked towards Giles, "Scotch.  Now."

            Giles sighed again, wondering if this was going to end in another fun-filled fight in his living room as he gestured towards the kitchen, "In the same place it always is, Spike."

            "Oh...right...get drunk," Buffy said sarcastically, "That'll make the chip disappear."

            "Bite me, Slayer."

            "You bite me!  Oh, right...you can't...you're impotent."

            "Buffy..." Giles tried to shush her, but Spike had already whirled around, bottle clenched in hand,  "Fuck. You." he ground out angrily, trying to resist the urge to slap the infuriating smile on her face.  

            "You wish," She said flippantly, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she placed her hands on her hips, "And you can curse and swear all you like, but it won't change the fact that you're a piss-poor excuse for a vampire."

            Spike snarled, flinging the bottle at her, and flinched immediately, waiting for the accompanying pain.

            Buffy gasped as it struck her right in the middle of the forehead, and staggered back, tripping over Giles' couch in the process.

            Spike gaped at her, "Oh...shit!"

            Buffy leapt back to her feet, a stake magically appearing in her hand, and Spike dimly wondered where she kept that one hidden in the small dress she was wearing.

            "Buffy!  Spike!  Stop this right no...!"  Giles was cut off by a light blur as Buffy launched herself at Spike, punching him in the face, "You bastard!  You threw a bottle at my head!"

            Spike grabbed the next punch she threw, trying to block her without activating the chip, and Giles flinched as she kneed him in the groin, eliciting a pained howl from the vampire.

            "That was bad form," he muttered, backing away.  When Buffy and Spike got like this, it was better to be far away, preferably across the Atlantic, where Giles was desperately wishing he was at the moment.

            Spike backhanded her, and Buffy whirled on her toes, kicking him upside the head, and Spike snarled, grabbing her around the throat and flinging her against the wall, squeezing.

            Buffy let out a choked gasp, wondering why in the hell the chip wasn't shocking him, and Spike's eyes widened, wondering the same.  

            He dropped her in shock, staring at her warily, as if wondering if she was some kind of demon made to look like Buffy.  He couldn't hit humans, and that was a fact.

            Unless...

            He whirled on Giles, and before the Watcher could react, Spike punched him in the stomach, doubling him over in amazement as no pain lanced through his brain.

            "Hey!  It's not working!"  He practically crowed as Giles sputtered for breath and Buffy retrieved her dropped stake. He turned towards her, a wide grin on his face that disappeared as soon as he saw the piece of wood angled towards his chest.  "Shit!" He barely avoided being staked as he threw the attacking Buffy aside and raced out the door.

            Buffy watched him go before slumping against the wall, dropping her stake on the floor as Giles straightened, a little red in the face, but otherwise unharmed.

            "He's back," she muttered weakly, and Giles nodded in concern.

            "It...uh...appears that way."

            She finally pulled herself together, her eyes going a bit cold, "I have to kill him."

       Oops...I didn't foresee this...oh...well...maybe I should just switch sides...just a teensy bit...

            I smile as I touch the back of Buffy's head, then retreat to watch the fun play out.

            Oops...the Watcher's found another bottle of scotch...he's in for a disappointment.  I seem to have that...flattening effect on booze...

            Well, his problem, not mine...althrough, that is a fine brand.  What a shame.

            Spike grinned as he hunted for the first time in months.  

            He didn't know what had changed, but he was glad.  The batteries had apparently run out in his chip, and he was once again free to do his own brand of carnage.

            His grin widened as he jumped up on a lamp post, "Born Free!  Free as the wind blows!"  He bellowed out, swinging around like a crazed monkey.  

            He silenced suddenly as a girl came out a store, and he jumped down, following her closely. When she was far enough away from the store, Spike glanced around, then pounced, dragging her into an alley, silencing her stunned scream with a hand over her mouth.

            He grinned as he vamped out, twisting her neck to the side, then sank his fangs into the tender flesh, reveling in the sharp smell of fear and coppery taste of blood, fresh, warm and from the source.

            Suddenly, he pulled away, his lips smeared with blood as he was assaulted with a sudden image.

            Buffy's eyes wide, staring at him in fear as he pinned her against the wall.  

            He dropped the girl, and she moaned softly, staring at his demon visage fearfully.

            "Get the fuck out of here," he growled at her, and she nearly screamed as she bolted out the alley, clutching her bleeding neck.

            Spike snarled as he drove his fist into the side of the alley wall, brick dust staining his pale knuckles as cracks spider-webbed from the fury of his blows.  

            "Fucking Bloody A!"  

            Buffy rubbed her arms absently as Willow finished the dis-invite on her house, shaking her head, "I so can't believe this crap.  Who knew this thing had a warranty?"

            "Well...it's not exactly like they gave us an instruction booklet or anything," Willow pointed out, "But it would have been really helpful."

            "Yeah...right.  Next time a bunch of army guys take over the town, I'll be sure to ask them if they could please provide us with top secret information on vampire chips."

            Tara looked at her, mildly worried, "Uh...how worried should I be?"

            "Very...you've never seen Spike when...he's all homicidal," Willow said, and Xander snorted, rolling his eyes.

           "Understatement.  He kidnapped us...tried to eat Buffy...a lot..."

            "And then there was the kissing..." Everyone stared at Willow, and she blushed, "I meant that spell...you know...when you were two minutes from eloping with him?"

            "Oh...great.  Remind me of that!"  Buffy shuddered, "I don't know what's worse...Spike trying to bite me..."

            "Or suck your tongue into the back of his throat," Xander said with his own shudder, and Buffy grimaced. "Visual very nice, Xand, thanks a lot."

            "Sorry."

            "Well...we could...always...you know...give him his soul..."

            "What?  No!"  Buffy looked horrified for a moment, then forced herself to calm down, "No...no soul...he'll get really, really pissed..."

            "And we care why?"

            "We have no idea what he was like when he was alive...what if he was worse or something...and the soul just brings that all back...?"

            "Angel wasn't exactly a peach of a guy when he was alive," Xander reminded him, "Falling down drunk, wasn't it...?"

            "No soul," Buffy said firmly, shaking her head.  "It's not really fair to him."

            Xander shrugged, "Well, that leaves staking, and I feel a big 'YEA' coming on."

            Buffy sighed, and Willow and Tara exchanged a knowing look as the Slayer grabbed her weapons.  "Well...time to face the bullet..."

            "Isn't that bite the bullet?"  Willow said with a frown, and Buffy rolled her eyes, "No reminders of biting...that's bad, remember?"

            "Right...no biting...lots of staking," Xander gave her a thumbs up, "Should we help?"

            "Nah...with Spike...the less bystanders, the better," Buffy said, "I can handle Spike...he's out of practice, so I gotta do this before he realizes that."

            Ah...I do love graveyards at night...well, actually I don't...they're full of dead people, and you really can't have fun with them...but the undead are great fun.

            For instance, see the group lounging in front of their lair?  A quick whisper of a certain someone's proximity, and they leap up to help with the grand jest.

            Spike was halfway back to his crypt, his knuckles torn and bloody from the beating he had given the wall in frustration.

            Six times...in one night!  

            Six times he had attempted to feed, but each time he bit into flesh, the Slayer's image flashed in front of him, and he snarled in anger.  

            What the hell is wrong with me?  

            He didn't think his night could get any worse.

            "Hey...look...it's the Slayer's pussy-whipped vampire."

            Spike shuddered with ill-repressed rage, slowly turning, "Oh...that was a bit below the belt, mate." His eyes widened slightly when he saw a group of twenty vampires standing behind him, paling as much as a vampire can pale.  "Or incredibly astute...I'll let your blokes debate it while I..." he abruptly turned and sprinted away.  

            Buffy sighed deeply as she made her way towards Spike's crypt, her eyes on her feet.

            She wasn't looking forward to having to fight and kill her former Slaying partner, but she didn't have much of a choice.

            Spike was dangerous, deadly without a chip to keep him in line.  No matter what her feelings...wait...no feelings!  Absolutly no feelings!  She hastily thought to herself.

            "INCOMING!"

            Buffy's head shot up and was immediately slammed to the ground by a hastily retreating Spike.  

            He scrambled to his feet, then jerked her to hers, "Better run, Slayer!"

            "What?  Why...?"  But he was already disappearing inside his crypt, and Buffy frowned, then whirled as she felt the presence of vampires, her eyes widening as the group rounded the side of a mausoleum, sighting her.

            "The Slayer!  Get her!"  

            She yelped, scrambling for her stake and threw a punch at the first vampire that came towards her.

            She suddenly screamed, gripping her head and collapsing to her knees as searing, white hot pain shot through her skull, leaving her gasping for breath.

            The vampires immediately descended on her, and every time she tried to fight back, the pain hit her, making her weaker and weaker.

            She was starting to black out as fists and feet connected with her body, when suddenly a vampire screamed, clutching his melting face.

            She looked up, her vision blurred with tears and blood that dripped from a gash on her forehead, and saw Spike cradling several glass bottles of holy water in his arms.

            He let another one fly, sending a vampire who had been punching her in the side scrambling back with a shriek, clawing bloody tracks down his face.

            "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY SLAYER!"  He bellowed, letting the others bottles loose on the vampires, then leapt forward into the ensuing fray and chaos, snapping the neck of one before whirling and driving a stake into another's chest.

            The others fell swiftly under the blond's fury, and the ones he didn't kill quickly retreated, vowing to come back and take Spike out once and for all.

            Spike glared after them before turning towards Buffy, concern crossing his face, "Slayer?  You all right?"

            His face wavered in her vision and she groaned before the sweet, deep darkness swept over her, taking her away from her pain.

            Oh, dear...the game has become a little out of hand...but I trust in my dear William...

            Buffy groaned softly, feeling pain in places she didn't know could ache.

            She tried to open her eyes and sit up, but a cool hand touched her forehead, pushing her back down, "Angel...?" she muttered blearily, then forced her eyes open when she heard a sharp intake of breath.

            They felt like they were gummed close, but with a lot of effort she managed to open them, and was immediately regretting it as light assaulting the sensitive orbs.

            "Sit still, Slayer," came the curt order, and Buffy inwardly flinched, recognizing Spike, "Not a problem," she replied weakly, allowing her eyes to fall shut again.  

            Spike stared down at her, his jaw clenching in anger before he sighed and sat on the bed beside her, shaking his head, "What the bloody hell were you doing?  I told you to run."

            "Excuse me for trying to do my job," she snapped back at him, then winced, "Ow..."

            Spike sighed again, picking up his first-aid kit and lifting up her shirt, flinching at the bruises on her skin, and mopped at the blood covering a few gashes, "What the hell happened?  You didn't even take down one of the fuckers."

            What happened?  Buffy forced her muddled brain to catch up with her, trying to remember what exactly had happened.  Pain...

            "I...got shocked...when I tried to hit them," she finally replied, opening her eyes again.  She glanced ferend, trying to think about where the bright light had come from before realizing it was probably one of the many candles lit around the crypt.  "It was like...I had your chip...except I wasn't able to hurt vampires..."

            Spike frowned as he turned his attention to the still bleeding cut on her forehead, pressing a bandage over it till it stopped, "Are you saying you got chipped by those lab rats?"

            "No," Buffy shook her head, then groaned when the effort resulted in a fresh bout of pain, "Not between the time I kicked your ass last, and coming here."

            Spike's lips pressed together, and she recognized the familiar gesture, knowing he was thinking deeply.  She almost smiled, but then remembered the reason she was coming here in the first place.

            "You didn't kill me...?"

            "No," Spike replied shortly, standing up and dropping the bloody rags in a corner, and grabbed one of his T-shirts and tossed it too her.

            She eyed it as if it would bite her, and Spike rolled his eyes, stiffly coming towards her, and growled when she flinched.  

            He gripped the edge of her shirt and managed to get it over her head without too much pain, and kept his eyes on a point past her head as he helped her pull his shirt over her.  

            She saw him peek, and blushed, looking down at her hands a bit sheepishly, "Why didn't you kill me?"

            "I can't kill, pet," he replied bitterly, and she looked up at him in surprise, "But I thought the chip..."

            "I can't kill, pet," he emphasized, and she frowned, "You can't...or won't?"

            "Can't...or little of both," he looked absolutely miserable, and Buffy was confused.

       "Why?  I mean...you...wanted to kill me...and basically everyone on the planet..." Spike shot her a sharp look, and she shrugged, "It's true."

            "Yeah...right..." Spike shook his head, "Can't explain it, pet...one minute I'm feeding..."

            "What?!"  Buffy glared at him, and he glared right back, "Relax...couldn't get a few drops before I saw you..."

            She quieted down, her pain and current brain predicament forgotten for the moment, "You...saw...me...?"

            Spike nodded slowly, turning his attention to the wall, then sighed dramatically, flopping down gracefully on the bed beside her, and she giggled, "Tell you what, kitten...you're the worse person in the world for a bloke to have fluffy feelings for."

            "What?  Why?"  She glared at him, and he grinned, "Dangerous for me, luv, what with all those stakes you keep hidden on your body...which, by the way, I'm fully intending to find out how in the hell you manage that in the clothes you wear!"

            "There's nothing wrong with the clothes I wear!  And you should talk!"

            Spike raised an eyebrow, and her mouth suddenly dropped open, "Go back...fluffy feelings?'

            Spike wrinkled his nose cutely, "Turned me into a poof, luv...do you do that to all the vamps or just the ones in my family?"

            Buffy shook her head, "But you can't...you know...cause you don't have a soul!  You can't...like me!"

            "Not like, far from that."

            Buffy sighed in relief.

            "I love you, Slayer."

            She jumped to her feet, ignoring the renewed throbbing in her body, staring at him, "You can't!"

            "I can!"  He protested, frowning, "I loved Dru and now I love you!"

            "But you can't love!  You don't have a soul..." the doubt was in her voice even as she said it.  She remembered the Sunset Club, when Spike had her where he wanted her, trapped, at his mercy, and she had held a stake at Drusilla's heart.  A look of panic had crossed his face, pain and the agony of losing a loved one tearing at his demon...forcing it aside.

            Buffy forced herself to meet his eyes, and shuddered at the intense, burning look in them.  No one...except maybe Angel had looked at her like that.

            "But your chip..."

            "Is gone, still don't want to kill you, pet," he assured her, slowly rising to his feet, cocking his head as he inspected her, watching her conflciting emotions flit across her face.

            Buffy watched him doubtfully, then cast her eyes down, "I don't think I can...kill you."

            Spike raised his scarred eyebrow, "Well...gee, thanks, luv...pour my undead heart out to you, and you say something like that?"

            He was only being half-sarcastic, and she sighed, "That's not what I meant...Spike...I like...this...us, I mean..."

            Spike grinned, stepping in front of her, "Good..."

            "No!  I mean...us...just like this..." she faltered, distracted as he wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzling at her neck, "And...uh...friends!  Friends...are good..."

            "Hmmm..." Spike nodded slightly as he blazed a trail of kisses down her throat and across her collar bone, careful to avoid any still remaining bruises.

            "And...that's really...ahh...that...TICKLES!"  She jumped in surprise as he ran his tongue along her skin, arching against him purely by reflex.

            He chuckled, hearing her heartbeat speed up, and the telltale smell of her arousal flooding the air, and took advantage of her sudden motion towards him, pulling her closer against him.  He was amused when she still kept talking, babbling nervously.

            "And...uh...you know...me and vampires...bad!  Since...I slay and you...uh...oh God...don't stop...wait...stop...and...um...vampires, bad, sex...oh...that's feels...crap...um...Spike...could you please..."

            She finally rolled her eyes, "Oh...fuck this!"  She exclaimed in frustration and grabbed Spike by the head, smashing her lips against his.

            He flailed against her as she sucked his tongue into her mouth, nibbling on it.  He finally recovered himself, and lifted her up against him.  

            She automatically wrapped her legs around his waist as she broke the kiss, and Spike stared at her wide-eyed for a few seconds, before finally choking out, "Cor...pet...that was..."

            "I know," She smiled knowingly, wriggling against him and he groaned, shaking his head, "Damn, woman...are you trying to kill me?"

            She grinned wickedly, leaning forward to whisper in his ear, "But what a way to go," she then gave his earlobe a quick lick, and Spike nearly dropped her in surprise, his erection straining against his tight jeans.  

            "Fuck..." he shook his head, trying to adjust himself without letting go of the woman clinging to him, "Remind me to buy some pants with some give," he muttered, and Buffy giggled.

            "Does that mean you'll change your wardrobe?"

            "Damn it!  I knew it!  You're already trying to change me..."

            She shut him up with another lip bruising kiss, and when she let go of him, he had a goofy grin on his face, "Right then...uh...what were we talking about?"

            "Hmm..." Buffy looked thoughtful for a second, "Seeing as  you have a very, very horny Slayer clinging to you," Spike moaned, "And seeing that the bed is covered in blood and icky stuff...and there's a nice clean wall about ten feet to the left..."

            "Never make it, pet," he shook his head in mock dismay, "If I move I'm going to make the very embarrassing mistake of cumming in my pants...and I don't think either of us want that..."

            Buffy sighed, "What to do...what to do?"

            Spike glanced towards the wall, then back at the Slayer, then at the wall again.  

            Buffy squealed, gripping his neck tightly as she suddenly came into contact with cold stone against her back.  Spike grinned lewdly, "Made it."

            Buffy shook her head, raising an eyebrow, "Bet you're wishing you didn't give me another shirt to wear."

            Spike eyed his shirt warily, "Why?"

            She let go of him, and threateningly tugged on it, and his eyes widened, "You wouldn't dare...!"

            The sound of ripping fabric refuted him, however, but his anger as losing his clothes was quickly forgotten at the sight of Buffy's breasts, and he turned his eyes up to the ceiling, counting slowly to ten.

            When he was sure he wasn't going to lose it, he turned his eyes back to Buffy, who was watching him, her head cocked to the side, "Are you all right?"

            "Fine," he said, then looked down at the bruises still dotting her skin, "What about you?"

            "I heal fast," she reminded him, then gave him a slightly frustrated look, "And wondering why you're still in those pants."

            "You're a strange one, Slayer..."

            Buffy glared at him, dropping her legs, and he stared at her in suprise, "What are you doing?"

            "If you love me so much, why can't you say my name?"

            "Buffy...Buffy Buffy Buffy...happy?"  He said a little snidely as he grappled with his belt, and Buffy went to punch him in the arm, then yelled as the pain hit her again, slumping to her knees.

            Spike dropped beside her, reconizing the motions, hoping that the pain was less then what he had suffered for the last couple of months, "Buffy?  Luv?  Are you all right?"

            "I'm surprised you didn't rip it out of your head," she gasped out painfully, and Spike brushed some hair from her eyes, "Sorry, baby," he said sincerely, "I'll make sure those bastards take it out..."

            She shook her head, "They didn't put it there!  That's the problem!  It's like it...jumped bodies or something!"

            Spike sighed, leaning his head against hers, "We'll fix it, luv...promise."

            Buffy glanced at him, smiling, "Thanks...that's...kind of sweet."

            "Kind of?"  Spike offered her a light glare, "Nothing kinda about me, pet."

            Buffy rolled her eyes, "Ego much?"

            Spike shrugged, "Don't got much to be modest about...and you know I love to brag..."

            Buffy tried to keep a straight face, but she still burst out laughing, and Spike glared at her, "Laugh it up, Slayer..."

            "Oh, I am..." She said between giggles, and Spike grinned evilly before dropping his head and she gasped as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, giving it a small nip.  "OH!"

            That shut her up, he thought to himself proudly as he suckled at her.  She groaned when he lifted his head and he helped her to her feet, "Wall's still waiting," he reminded her, and swung her up in the air, catching her and urging her legs back around his waist.

            She easily melted into his embrace, smiling a little as she ran her fingers through his hair as he kissed down her neck again.  She fitted so well with him, as if they almost came from the same mold.

            She tightened her grip on his lean, hard body, her eyes roving over the ivory expanse of his shirtless chest before running her hands over it, and he hissed as she tugged experimentally at his flat nipples.

            "Slayer..."

            She smirked at him as he pressed her harder against the wall, catching her lips.  

            He explored the inside of her mouth with his tongue as his hands wandered down her body, barely brushing against the sides of her breasts, and she moaned, arching towards his touch, and he grinned against her mouth.

            He could feel her wet heat against his jean-covered erection, and he kissed her even harder.

            She jerked her head back as he slipped his hand down into her skirt, pressing against her mound through her panties, panting slightly.

            He grinned, "Ready and willing, luv?"  

            "Spike," she hissed warningly, her eyes widening as his finger slipped inside her, his thumb circling her already swollen nubbin.  "Oh...God..."

            Spike watched her face, flushed with need, her eyes burning with lust, barely biting back another moan.  

            He inserted another finger inside her, and began to stroke her even harder, and her breathing shortened, her eyes glistening as he brought her near orgasm.  

            When she was about to go over the edge, his hand left her and she groaned in protest, "Spike...!"

            He grinned, kissing her as he lifted her skirt over her hips and none too gently tearing her panties away, "Don't worry, luv, I'm coming back."

            She writhed impatiently as he freed his hard member, and he gave it a quick stroke, enjoying her frustration as she tried to rub herself against him, craving friction.

            He finally took mercy on her, guiding himself towards her dripping entrance.

            Buffy screamed as he thrust into her roughly stretching and filling her, instantly orgasming.

            Spike grinned as she lay against him, panting, her entire body shuddering, "Oh...wow..." she managed to gasp out, and Spike chuckled, "It gets better, baby..."

            She smiled up at him languidly as he set a slow pace, his eyes closed, amazed by the way her inner walls clutched at him tightly, almost refusing to let him go each time he slid deep inside her.

            Soon, Buffy felt the pleasant fire start to build back up in her womb, and her fingernails scraped lightly against Spike's hard back, feeling his tremouring muscles just beneath the skin as she tightened her leg grip.

            "Christ, luv," he muttered in her ear, nuzzling her neck, feeling like he was being burned from the outside in by the incredible heat she was putting out, his terminally cold skin beginning to warm for the first time in centuries.  "You're...so fucking tight...and hot..."

            She moaned at his breathy whisper, "Spike...shut up and make love to me!"

            He chuckled against her throat, and she shuddered at the sensation of his mouth vibrating against her skin, pulling him close even as she tried to take him deeper inside of herself, as if trying to make him melt into her, make them one being, make them feel complete.

            Spike sucked at the soft skin at the base of her throat, tasting the salt of her skin as she gripped his head, her fingers tangling in his short hair.

            Spike looked up, meeting her almost glazed, desire-filled eyes and smiled, brushing his lips against her forehead as he reached between them, and stroked her clit.

            She bucked, yelling his name as she was thrown roughly over the edge, and Spike growled, gripping her by the hips as he began to furiously pound into her, driving her up the wall, while he tugged her back down on his churning cock at the same time.  

            Soon, her name flew from his lips as he thrust twice more, burying himself to the hilt in her tight heat, his demon emerging as he plunged his fangs into her neck.

            Buffy gasped, her eyes widening when she realized he had bit her, and she half-sobbed in shock.

            He removed his fangs immediately, not drinking from her as he licked at the wound he left, and she relaxed a bit as he began to purr against her throat, still sheathed deep inside.

            Spike lifted his head, and Buffy met his demon visage, and she flinched slightly.  But she forced herself to meet his yellow eyes, and she saw worry and fear in them, even as his human mask melted back into place, cheekbones replacing forehead ridges.  

            She smiled at him, then he was kissing her tenderly, his tongue tangling with hers as they stumbled together towards the bed, each clinging lovingly to the other.

            Then he said the three little words that meant the world to her.

            "I won't leave."

            Whistler glared at his cousin, grumbling as he forked over a fifty, "That's cheating."

            Puck shrugged, adjusting his suit, smiling widely, "Cheating or not, I did what you couldn't."

            Whistler shook his head, looking at the two blonds curled together spoon-style.  

            Spike had his head buried in the base of Buffy's neck, and her hands were resting over his where they were clinging to her abdomen, a content smile on her face as her lover purred in his sleep.

            "Well...at least he's back on our side," Whistler sighed, deciding it was worth the money for the balance the vampire provided.

            "My greatest jest yet, once more turned to love," Puck shook his head as the pair turned to leave Slayer and vampire alone.  "But it was a great play while it lasted."

If we shadows have offended,

Think but this, and all is mended,

That you have but slumber'd here

While these visions did appear.

And this weak and idle theme,

No more yielding but a dream,

Gentles, do not reprehend:

if you pardon, we will mend:

And, as I am an honest Puck,

If we have unearned luck

Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue,

We will make amends ere long;

Else the Puck a liar call;

So, good night unto you all.

Give me your hands, if we be friends,

And Robin shall restore amends.

-William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream-

-The End-

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