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Her moans and sighs of pleasure pressed upon the still air of her room, her window closed against any interference outside. Legs became caught, entangled in dampened sheets as she writhed to the tune of his passion. She couldn’t help but whimper at his touch, the cool stroke of fingers against the skin of her ass making her arch off the mattress, hands grasping frantically for something to hold.

Lost in sensorial bliss, she suddenly stilled as fingers sought her centre. Burning heat and liquid smoothed and spread over her sensitive button, fingers inserting inside her slick but scorching hole. Motion began again as she felt the nearing of something explosive, something monumental, and just as his fingers massaged her to the edge, she sat up gasping, squealing his name.

“Spike!”

Oh God! She itched and wriggled while sitting up in her bed, almost sobbing with frustration. When through will alone she popped, her satisfaction gushing down her legs, she was suddenly grateful for whatever impulse had told her to go to bed pantyless that night.

It wasn’t until she sank back against the pillows that she recognised the name she had called the vampire she had been lusting after had not been Angel. For long moments she felt no guilt. Felt nothing but the immense happiness that she had felt something so mindblowingly stunning.

Something so adult.

Something so incredibly naughty and exciting.

It was almost ten minutes later that she finally realised that Angel had never inspired such a dream, such a reaction from her.

And then she did feel guilty. She felt her words come back to smack her up the side of the face, the denial to Spike that Angel was her boyfriend. It was just lust, pure and simple. Lust making her do the wacky, making her want the bad soulless vampire. And that was undeniable. She so did want the soulless vampire. Preferably on his knees.

Beyond the words, were her actions. Thinking of Angel had never made her tear up her bed in dreamlike passion, had never made her squirm against his make-believe cold tongue. Which just emphasised again how twisted and wrong it all was. She loved Angel. Didn’t she? Feeling a little with the not so much, what with her body still vibrating from the heated tingles of Spike dreams. Again, this thing with Spike? Lust. Nothing more, nothing less. And what was wrong with her for lusting after the evil creatures?

Feeling a circular bout of reproach about to springboard her morning, Buffy raised her determined body and made quick time to the bathroom. A nice hot shower would put it all out of her head. Of course, hot…hmmm, Spike was hot, his eyes, his body, his moves, his touch. Lusty wantage, bad Buffy!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Buffy wasted no time in getting ready for school, now that guilt was settling over her like an oppressive apocalyptic shroud. It was always with the bad, whatever happened to her, whatever she felt. She was so beyond being patient while waiting for the good. Angel was good. Buffy just had to cling to that. A big beautiful soul made Angel number one good in her book, and as sexy as Spike might be, and as dangerously gorgeous his lips wereespecially when they were sucking the life out of her from her own lips he was off limits.

OFF LIMITS. She would just have to internally shout it to herself for the entire day. Maybe then it would sink in. Might be good if she didn’t seek him out either.

Which was how she found herself backtracking to the factory where she had seen him with the black widow nutbag. Back to the same grimy window she had spied through the previous night. Now she just felt like a little, well, spy. She was patient for all of two minutes, tapping the wall with her fingers ready to storm in and have a few words with the mysterious yet hot vampire, and try to work out his vile evil plan. Buffy had been a Slayer now for long enough to know that there was always an evil plan.

All thoughts of slayerly spyage on the nasty vampire fled as a shirtless Spike wandered into her line of vision. Almost gasping for breath, Buffy slapped a hand over her mouth and allowed her eyes to continue hanging outside her head.

“Whoa Mamma,” she felt like screaming as her greedy eyes sucked up the sculpted goodness that was Spike’s torso. She licked her lips like she’d just survived a week in the dessert with no water, and felt herself losing control as her fingers itched to touch. Lines and hard curves dipped and swayed over his abdomen, and she redefined the word ‘cut’.

Working up the courage to discard her earlier suspicions for the feel of soulless goodness the likes of which Angel could never satisfy, she was about to jump from her hiding spot when the familiar brunette in question came strolling through the room.

“You’re early,” she heard Spike say just as she ducked back against the wall. Her heart began to thud with an out of control fear of being caught ogling the sexy vamp that was not him. He may have had suspicions last night while she had been riveted to the sights and events through the dirty window, but she didn’t think he would be so much with the understanding at her new bout of dreamy watching, particularly as there was school skippage involved.

The continuation of the conversation between her two vamps dragged her back to the moment and she got as close to the window as she could without being seen. No eyes or noses twitched in her direction, so she was taking that as a good sign of how far away she was to avoid vamp senses.

“I thought it would be better for me to show up now and catch you out in whatever evil plan you have for Buffy.” The brunette vampire stated his reason for visiting with such a cold, detached voice that Buffy nearly shuddered.

“Told you, mate. I have no evil plan for Buffy. I’m gonna help her, and if you think you’re puttin’ me through the third bloody degree about it again, I’ll stake your arse.”

Buffy felt a little puffed up at the confident way Spike confirmed his help, and then her eyes shot wide at the very real sound of a zipper lowering.

“Can’t you wait till I’ve gone, William?”

“Nope,” she heard along with the unmistakable thump of jeans hitting the cement floor. Or at least it sounded like jeans hitting the floor, and as she quickly gathered her nerve and peeked round the corner of the window, the perfect nude physique standing proud confirmed her ears. Which were now flaming red. Right along with the rest of her face and the tongue that was hanging out of her mouth.

“Oh God,” she lusted quietly to herself, just knowing that tonight’s set of dreams were going to be even hotter now that she was fired by a vision of the real thing.

“You want to barge in while I’m preparing for bed, Angelus, then you’re lucky enough to score a looksie. Bugger off to Dru, then. Just tell the minions I sent you.” Spike turned away, gathering together a blanket as he curled up on a single bed propped up against a wall, already ticking off his mental checklist as he dismissed his grandsire. Dust minions, find a new place to call home, see Buffy, find the Gem…

“Oh, and Peaches? You’d better have something set up for her tonight, cause I’ll be movin’ out. An’ like I warned you, she’s not comin’ with me.”

The bleached vamp flung himself backward on the mattress with renewed enthusiasm and quickly gave the elder vampire his equally sculpted back, which Buffy wasted no time ogling and memorising. Angel promptly marched from the room following an annoyed glare at Spike’s back.

With his body turned away from the window and the room otherwise empty, Buffy risked a little more proximity, and she leaned forward, eyes glazing over at the sight of his perfectly muscular and smooth back. The roundness of the ball of his shoulder made her mouth water, the sleek line of his neck exposed pale milky skin, extremely lickable, and yet emphasised by the gently curling platinum strands. Her panties were feeling rather sodden but she just couldn’t tear herself away, couldn’t let go of the hope that she might catch a glimpse of something else while she was being a nasty little voyeur.

Her breath hitched in her throat as Spike rolled, his eyes remained closed and that was the only thing that kept her from bolting. The blanket he’d draped over his nude frame had slipped, barely brushing over a hip as one leg fell over the side of the small bed.

Buffy could feel the heat spreading through her, could feel the intense need not just in her fingers to touch and trace all the magnificent lines revealed on his body, but also deep in places that were yet innocent of the things she couldn’t help but think about now. She wanted so much to give in and crawl through the window, climb into that bed and let the blond peel off all her clothes. Caught up in that fantasy she almost missed the guttural grown that passed the supposedly sleeping vamp’s lips as his hand sunk below the edge of the blanket. The new tenting of the blanket, and movement from underneath had Buffy scrabbling down fast and racing away from the building.

School was a welcome destination for the first time never and she walked faster just to get away from where she’d been. Her face was flaming, but Buffy considered that even a dressing down from Snyder would be welcome right now if it took her mind from what Spike’s hand just might have been about to do under that blanket.

Buffy gulped. Then she smiled and felt herself get all gushy and warm. For a few wicked minutes, she pondered the sensation and Spike’s reaction if she could replace his wandering hand with her more than enthusiastic tongue.

Buffy blushed hard again as she tried desperately to stop herself thinking of things she had no right to be. No reason to be. ‘No desire to be’, she lied to herself.

Images of her angelic-looking boyfriend fled on a wave of lust that nearly brought her trembling to her knees. And overtaking her sweet schoolgirl crush on him was his grandchilde, one gorgeous package of male flesh that made her die with wanting.

Buffy stopped dead in the corridor, suddenly being lost in a swarm of bodies as the bell rang and the student body exploded en masse from the various classrooms. Lost in a daze of sexual longing, Buffy made her way to the library, successfully making it through nothing more than pure instinct.

She was jolted from her sensual contemplation of manly soft lips, a pointed but wicked tongue and a kiss that could stop time, by the strident welcome of her best male friend. Feeling a little spooked and on the spot, Buffy was uncomfortably aware that all of her body heat now suddenly resided in her feet.

“And it’s a late good morning to the Buffster. Did you have residual vampires to slay?”

Buffy flushed, thinking of how thoroughly she was slaying Spike last night and couldn’t help but grin.

“Definitely a heavy night with the slayage,” she answered cheekily, secure in knowing that she was the only one who knew what she meant. Doing a quick sweep of the room, her eyes fell on Willow and Cordelia, the brunette looking a little worse for the wear but masking it well with the wonders of Maybelline. But then, maybe she was just born with the ability to look fresh despite painting over extremely heavy bags under the eyes.

Thank God for Willow. Buffy made her way to her friend, rather desperate for a personal conference and unloading of the lusty moments she’d had with the new big bad vampire.

“Wills and Cordy were late today, too,” Xander informed her dutifully. “Seems they weren’t sure that they were safe from the vamps roaming the school till the sun came up. Stayed here all night, in the janitors closet.” Xander sat fully serious, until a little tittering from Buffy sparked a deep-seated need for merriment. Within seconds he had collapsed on the floor, laughing heartily at the two girls who favoured him with irritated glares.

“Yes,” began Giles as he cleared his throat of his discomfort. “We should all be rather ashamed that we forgot to find Willow and make sure she was alright.”

“Hey,” shouted Cordelia, poised for flight in her indignation. “I was there, too. My life was threatened as much as geeky Willow’s was. Really feeling the love in this room,” she called back as she stomped from the room, the door swinging closed behind her.

“I’m sorry, Willow. It was rather a bizarre night, but I should have found you. Mom herded me to the car, though…and I guess, well, I forgot.” Buffy finished on a note of shame. And another dose of the ready guilt being served up on rather large platters today.

“That’s okay,” smiled Willow, before she settled resolve face on her features. “Just don’t leave me like that with Cordelia again. It was a very traumatic experience.”

Buffy giggled as she imagined Willow and bitchy Cordelia stuck in a closet for hours.

“What did you do?” she asked, awe giving her new respect for the tolerance of her best friend.

“Prayed,” Willow deadpanned and they both broke into a rush of giggles. “So, how did your night go really? I guess the bad vamp got away?”

Buffy couldn’t move. Everything that had happened between Spike and herself felt like it had been going on for days, pulling and twisting with her natural reaction to things in what felt like forever. But in one sentence, Willow reminded her that all the vamp lovin’ had been taken over just one night. That just blew her mind.

“Ah, things kind of ended up undusty with the vamp.” Buffy quickly snagged Willow by the arm, threading her arm through and linking them, she gently nudging the redhead out of the library.

“Willow and I are gonna go get some lunch,” she called to Giles over her shoulder and, not waiting for a response, tugged Willow out of the building.

When they finally stopped and sat beneath a shady tree, Buffy found Willow to be watching her with a stern expression on her face.

“Okay, give.”

Buffy looked at her friend and felt her words do the ramba in her mouth and tangoed right out of sight. Her mouth remained open but inactive.

“Buffy, you’re beginning to scare me. What happened? Couldn’t you kill him? Was that Spike vampire too strong?”

“Pffft! Too strong? No way,” Buffy denied, her voice carrying an inflection of righteousness. She was so repressing the fact that he could have killed her easily when they sparred the night before, what with the mysterious trombones and vampire temper tantrums. “Actually, we kinda didn’t get to the fighty part.” Well, not officially, she fudged mentally. Her voice definitely lost volume the longer she spoke, and Willow was straining to catch everything Buffy said.

Willow fixed Buffy with a confused raised eyebrow, and Buffy looked at the interesting grass and squirmed.

“But when he jumped through the window, he was all…” Willow posed her fists in the air and feinted gentle punches. “Pow.”

Buffy giggled. “Pow?”

“And Kazam. Don’t forget that part. So, what happened?” Willow sat on her patch of ground and waited patiently for the story.

“Well, he kind of made with the hugging, and then the kissing, and then there was a little…touching…” Buffy blushed hotly.

Willow gasped, but before she could recover from the surprise of that, Buffy rushed on to tell of her later meeting with the vamp. Finally she stopped, breathless as though her romp with the vampire last night had only just concluded.

“Wow,” was the redhead’s initial response. “And just, wow, and then Angel? Wow. I don’t envy you,” she muttered as she took a bite of her sandwich. And then her eyes shot wide as a thought seemed to take her over.

“So is he a better kisser than Angel?” Willow grinned as she saw the blissful expression spread over Buffy’s face. After waiting a few minutes for her friend to come out of the trance that the sparked memory of Spike kisses seemed to put her in, Willow gave Buffy a none to gentle shove and giggled as Buffy ended up sprawled on the grass.

“Oh yeah,” she replied with a knowledgeable smirk. “Those kisses could make a girl forget her own name.”

Willow’s face suddenly clouded as her concerns returned. “Buffy, he isn’t trying to seduce you so he can kill you, is he?”

A cold shiver raced through the Slayer’s body as she contemplated the thought, and found that her heart started beating hard and painfully at the possibility that Spike might still want to hurt her.

“He doesn’t have a soul, Will. How can I know? I…” she paused, fighting against tears that suddenly wanted to push their way through her tough resolve. “He made me feel so alive, while we were fighting. He says he wants to help me patrol and stuff, and I know Angel does that. But he’s so with the mysterious, and the evasive, and…”

“And Spike gets you hot?”

Buffy sat in quiet contemplation, almost afraid to admit any more of her feelings. “Angel makes me feel all schoolgirlish. He’s cute, and strong and protective. I mean, a vampire with a soul? Can it be any more romanitc? But Spike? He makes me feel like a woman; he makes my eyes glass over and my body flush and my heart pound. Yeah, Wills,” she admitted quietly. “He gets me hot, but I think it’s more than that. But he could be just trying to get under my defences. It could be a big scary plan to make me vamp steak.”

Willow felt chilled at the sadness that suddenly surrounded her friend.

“I’m just so confused. I mean, I finally got it together with the whole ‘Master making me dead’ thing, and Angel and I were starting to get somewhere pretty nice…and then along comes this sexy blond vamp threatening to kill me, who practically kissed me to death. And I want to be with him, get to know him. But I don’t know if I can trust him.”

Willow remained speechless, playing with her shoelaces thoughtfully.

“Miss Calendar does magic. Maybe she knows of a spell or something to tell if he’s lying to you?” she finally offered and was glad when Buffy’s gentle smile reappeared. With an enthusiastic nod, Willow’s hand was seized and she was hauled to her feet and they went running back to the library.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Ah, Jenny. Just the woman I wanted to see.”

“Why Rupert, you can see me any time you wish,” the brunette offered with a saucy wink as she sashayed through the swinging library doors, sending Giles into a shy fit of glass cleaning.

“Yes, that would be…um…right…I had a visitor last night. He…ah…made some comments that, well, it brought a few things to light that I’m afraid to say I’m rather embarrassed to admit I hadn’t thought to investigate. He suggested that you might be the perfect person to ask, in fact.”

Jenny Calendar suddenly felt ill at ease, and watched Giles carefully.

“Who was your visitor,” she asked first, thinking it might give her the clue of how dangerous this discussion could become.

“It was Spike. Er, William the Bloody.”

“Spike came to see you last night?” Buffy interrupted as she and Willow walked through the library door.

“Yes, he came to talk.” Giles stopped his concentrated polishing and became introspective. “Actually, I’m not entirely sure what the purpose of his visit was, but we covered a number of things. Mainly that he had destroyed the Anointed One and is determined to keep Buffy alive. He seemed quite sincere. I did invite him into my flat,” he paused again and suddenly became quite pale. “Which in retrospect might have been rather foolish of me. Perhaps with Angel and his soul I have become rather more tolerant of vampires that offer their help.”

“What was it he thought I could help you with, Rupert?”

“Ah yes, he mentioned the fact that Angel’s soul was a curse given to him by Gypsies…”

“But we already know that, Giles. Angel, soul, equals we trust. New page, please.” Buffy waited, her body feeling springy and suddenly desperate for some kind of physical release.

“He reminded me as I hadn’t given it much thought, and that there are usually ways of breaking a curse. I believe that Angel himself might not try to relieve himself intentionally of his soul, but many others might see the advantages of restoring Angelus to his former glory. Particularly as he is probably the heir to the Master’s line now that he is, ah…”

“In many, tiny, itty bitty pieces,” offered Xander with his hand in the air.

Buffy continued looking at Giles, no change in her stance of consideration.

“Not a prob with the references, Giles. Get to the point, please.”

“Yes, well, Spike suggested to me that Jenny…” he turned to his potential romantic interest. “He thought that as you may have gypsy heritage yourself, you may be able to research the curse.” His smile was warm, but faded almost immediately at the frightened look on her face.

“Jenny, is something wrong?”

“How, how did he know I’m a gypsy? And, and to ask…about Angel?”

“I…” Giles paused to think back on the conversation with the vampire but found nothing strange or overly coincidental about the exchange. “He simply saw things that should probably have been obvious to me.”

“But, I…I’ve never even seen him. So, how does he know about me?”

“I’m not sure,” said Giles as he tipped his head to the side, glasses in his hand. “What is it exactly that is bothering you, Jenny?”

“I…” she closed her eyes a moment, knowing that she was about to break the code of her Clan but seeing the wisdom of their knowing about the curse.”

“Perhaps Spike is up to something, trying to mislead us by having us divert our attention to the less important issue of Angel’s soul?”

“No,” she corrected him suddenly. “I don’t think…” she paused, taking a deep breath, before raising haunted eyes to her crowd of listeners. “He’s right. I do know something. I belong to the gypsy clan that cursed Angel. There is a way he can lose it. I was sent here to make sure that that didn’t happen.”

A hush greeted her words before Buffy pushed her way forward and stood directly in front of the technopagan.

“What do you mean? Angel could lose his soul?” Buffy felt something niggling, something a little uncomfortable about the prospect of Angel not being Angel. But she quickly shrugged it off as not too serious. If Spike was the example these days of a soulless demon then she’d…Buffy couldn’t finish the thought, not wanting to lead to questions about the validity of her calling. These two vampires were simply different, probably from being of the same family.

“It’s a possibility.” The teacher’s voice broke through Buffy’s reverie.

“But it’s unlikely, though. Right?”

“It isn’t something that should be easy to achieve, and I don’t think we need to worry about random demons being able to cause it.”

Two hard stares confronted her and the teacher gulped hard, taking a measured step backwards.

“Angelus is not a demon to be underestimated. Tell us what you know.” Giles voice held a core of steel, something hard and bitter underlying the tone.

“If he should have a moment of perfect happiness…” The teacher and librarian shared a look of worried adult understanding as Buffy continued to think about what had been said.

“Well, that could be anything. Cryptic much? It could be…cookie dough ice-cream, or an extra fresh baggie of blood, or…”

“Or getting his hair gel to set just right?” Xander offered, with an answering chuckle from Willow.

Buffy glared at the two.

“I rather think it would be something more…meaningful to him, Buffy.” Giles’s voice cut through to her again and she answered with, “What could be more happy making than cookie dough ice-cream?”

Giles sent a pleading look to the newly outted gypsy as he resorted to polishing his glasses again in discomfort.

“I think Rupert means the happy you get through making love.” The matter-of-fact way the woman delivered the viewpoint was almost comical in its lack of discomposure, and the entire room stood solid in shock.

All eyes suddenly turned to Buffy and she squirmed in humiliation.

“Ewww. Not with the happiness giving, thanks.” Buffy shuddered. Thoughts of Angel helping her shed her clothes before a night of shared loving--a thought that had featured regularly in her dreams before the blond evil menace had invaded them--made her heart suddenly ache with the futility. It was a risk she couldn’t take. And the slayer stomped across the room and flopped down into a chair at the table, idly flicking through a book on vampires and gasping when she found a picture of Angel.

“I was looking up the Order of Aurelius this morning,” Giles explained at her questioning eyes. “I thought after my chat with Spike that I should re-familiarise myself with Angelus and even William the Bloody. I…I’m still not sure I can trust him. But Jenny,” he said as he turned back to the gypsy lady he was interested in getting to know better. “It is important that we know these things. Angelus is not a vampire that we really want to have to confront.”

Buffy read a few paragraphs quietly, her heart rising in her throat as she encountered tales of gore and murder and sweeping evil through continents. When the next paragraph began to describe forms of torture he preferred, she shut the book closed with a loud snap.

“It’s no big, though, right? I mean, if he loses his soul, then we can just curse him again. Right?” Her voice began to rise in panic, not entirely sure from what but knowing instinctively that she didn’t want to have to fight Angel to the death, even if he was evil again.

“It’s not exactly as easy as that,” Miss Calendar told her quietly. “The curse was lost from my family years ago.”

Buffy looked like she had been slapped and succumbed to a terrible sense of foreboding.

“Then, I guess we make sure the happiness having isn’t.”

Giles raised a brow in amusement at her.

“Oh no. You put that eyebrow away, Mister. This conversation topic is now closed. And I’m going to class.” Buffy pivoted on her heel and strode fast from the library, a surprised Xander and Willow following her, tossing a quick, “bye” over their shoulders.

It left the adults alone in the room together.

“Y-you planned on keeping this a secret from us, didn’t you?” He looked at her quickly, lowering his eyes once again as he struggled with his desire to get to know her better and anger that something horrific could have been sprung on them without any forewarning.

“I’m sorry, Rupert. My clan didn’t want it known why I was here.”

“Why now? Why have you been sent to watch him now?”

She bowed her head, feeling bone weary, before taking the seat that Buffy had just vacated.

“He hasn’t really been close to happiness since he originally was cursed. Only since he has desired to help Buffy has he changed and tried to minimise the pain he feels from his guilt. I was sent here to make sure he didn’t veer any further from the purpose of the curse. He is meant to be in pain, Rupert. My people need for him to writhe in agony for what he did.” Her voice had transformed with the hard edge of vengeance and anger and Giles watched her, completely captivated. His eyes betrayed to her how beautiful he found her in the moment, and, suddenly embarrassed, he coughed and cleared his throat before changing the subject.

“I suppose then that Spike has already helped us with more than eliminating the Anointed One.” He picked up the book Buffy had discarded in distaste earlier and flicked through the pages to the entry under William the Bloody. “He has cut his own way through his share of devastation. How can we trust him? He has no soul.”

“What did you feel when he was talking with you?”

Giles pondered the query, and only felt more confused.

“I didn’t feel that he would turn on us. I felt like he genuinely cared about keeping Buffy alive. He made no move towards attacking me.”

Together they sat at the table, surprised yet hopeful in this new ally to their fight against evil.

Computer images of a curse not translated began to make more rapid journeys through her head, the niggling feeling that it might be needed making her skin crawl in anticipated anger and flaming current hatred.

As they continued their quiet contemplation, Jenny began to decipher mentally, the urgency not ignored as something essentially gypsy forced her to acknowledge her own power.

A/N...you know what to do...and I am overwhelmed so far by the response to this fic...if you are reading, please take the time to let me know...make it that new thing you try today!





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