Author's Note: I'm sorry this chapter took so long to get out. There were personal issues that kept me from writing. Said personal issues mean that I'll be flying out to California tomorrow (the day after 9/11 no less...), so the next chapter won't be up until next Monday at the very earliest. Thank you for your patience.

Previously: Remember the episode 'Superstar'? It's that, except Buffy's gone to Spike for help defeating Jonathan 'cause no one else would listen to her. They broke into a bunch of people's houses looking for books to help them track down the monster. They finally found them at Giles'. All Jonathan had were a bunch of nerdy sci-fi novels in a secret closet. But Buffy and Spike had a nice time being locked in said closet since they got to feel each other up in the confined space. But they didn't have sex. Now, they've discovered that killing the monster reverses the spell Jonathan's cast. But they still didn't have sex. Riley thinks they did, though, 'cause he's stupid like that. He's pissed, and he's going to go tell Jonathan...

Spike lay back on the stone sarcophagus in the center of his crypt, hands clasped behind his head, and let out a contented little sigh. It was a typical morning in the unlife of a vampire, spent alternately snoozing and lazing about in the cool darkness. But there was one thing about this morning that was far from typical…

He closed his eyes and once again played a few select scenes from the night before in his head. His lips curled into a smile at the thought of the Slayer grinding herself up against him in the closet and the way her lips had been so close to brushing against his…

Slayer wants me, he repeated to himself for the umpteenth time, the thought still bringing a smile to his face every time.

When he first realized it, it had shocked him to no end – that sweet, musky smell drifting up to him every time he came near, letting him know that her body was ready and waiting for him and him alone…

Of this last part, he was certain. She’d been dry as a bone on her date with Captain Cardboard until he’d shown up and gotten her juices flowing again…

“Pretty little Slayer,” he whispered in his half-asleep state, rolling over onto his side. One of his hands came to rest at the waistband of his jeans, and he reached down to give Spike Jr. a reassuring pat. The traitor between his legs had been acting up more than usual recently, especially in that closet… “Slayer,” he moaned softly, his hand unconsciously gripping himself tighter through the fabric of his jeans.

It was twisted, of course. Sick. That the Slayer, of all people, should want him…well, he’d always known he was a handsome devil. The poor thing probably just couldn’t help herself. But that he was starting to feel it as well… That was just wrong. She was the Slayer, for crying out loud! Perhaps the only woman in the world that he should want his fangs in but not his cock. Although, in all fairness, it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought of having a Slayer that way before. That feisty girl in New York…

His jeans were chaffing in a horribly uncomfortable way by now. With deft fingers, he pulled down his zipper and unfastened the button, allowing himself to spring free into his hand. He gripped his swollen cock tightly, molding his hand so that it rubbed against every pulsing nerve.

His eyes shut tighter as he pictured the fiery little blonde doing this – lying beside him, her pert little breasts bared and ripe for the tasting, and her tiny hand gripping him with every bit of strength she had, jerking him off… She would whispering dirty things into his ear as she did so: how she tried to be a good girl but it was so hard when evil was so tempting, and how only vampires could get her all tight and hot, and how she couldn’t come without an icy cock buried deep within her and fangs piercing her soft, supple flesh.

He groaned as the dream image beside him sensuously crawled down his body to take him into her mouth. She slurped at him as if she had been walking through the desert for hours and he was a pristine fountain, and she drank down all the cool nectar he squirted into her eager throat.

With a contented mumble he opened his eyes to see that he’d shot his load all over the lid of the sarcophagus. Not good. Very messy, in fact. He groaned and debated getting up to clean up the mess. But it wasn’t really all that necessary yet as long as he didn’t roll over onto the white puddle…

It was all the excuse he needed to keep up the fantasy. The savory little morsel was now pulling him on top of her, whimpering about how she would die if she didn’t get a good, hard fucking right now. He was more than happy to oblige, both in this dream world and in reality.

Unconsciously, he shifted over onto his stomach so that his once again firm erection ground down against the cold stone lid beneath him. Of course, in his mind’s eye, it was a raging inferno he plunged into. The Slayer’s body was hot and wet and firm and soft and tight…so very tight. She felt like a virgin, but the way she rubbed herself up against him and clawed and scratched…better than any pro he’d ever had.

It was the kind of dream he always wished would last forever, but in his half-asleep state, it was always over much too quickly. “Buffy…” he moaned raggedly and squirted out onto the stone slab once more…then swore when he realized that there was now nowhere to lie down until he cleaned the coffin lid up.

With a weary sigh, he propped himself up and made his way over to the bucket of water and rag he used for just this purpose. It was an unfortunate side effect to not having anything tender and female to come inside of.

He briefly considered picking up another vamp floozy like Harm just so he would have something to take a poke at when he felt like it. Sure, he was down and out with the demon crowd as of late, but several young females had still made it more than clear that they wouldn’t mind taking a vampire of his strength and experience into their beds. Unfortunately, meaningless sex quickly lost its charm with him. It really was a pity…

He wiped up the spill, still yawning and making that humiliating purring sound that he never seemed to be able to suppress after sex. When his makeshift bed had been cleaned once again to his satisfaction, he tossed the rag back over beside the bucket and moved to lie down once more…

He was interrupted by the sound of a crossbow bolt being slipped into place. His head jerked up in surprise.

“Oh, yeah, you’ve got class,” Riley said with a nasty frown, the deadly weapon in his hands aimed straight at Spike’s heart. “I can see why she likes you…”

“That sarcasm, mate?” Spike tried for cocky since…well, since cocky was the only mode he had to deal with a potentially life or death situation now that he had this damn chip in his head. “Hard to tell with you, given that the bland, white bread voice an’ the bland, white bread face never change.”

Riley’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know what you’ve done to her,” he threatened, “but I’m going to make you pay.”

“See now?” Spike raised one scarred eyebrow. “That s’posed to be anger? Menacin’? Impossible to tell. Maybe you should practice movin’ your facial muscles a bit in th’ mirror before tryin’ to talk to other people.”

Riley’s posture became more rigid, if that was possible. “Jonathan’s going to find out what you did,” he informed the vampire. “And then he’s going to make Buffy mine again. And then I get to kill you, and we go off together happily ever after.”

Spike couldn’t help it. He laughed. “Hate to break it to you, Major Bringdown, but that sweet l’il girl of yours? She’s got the hots for me all on her own. Din’t do a thing to her ‘cept offer somethin’ a bit less…” He looked Riley up and down, appraising him, and then shook his head when the Initiative agent came up short. “…vanilla.”

Riley re-cocked the crossbow, reminding Spike exactly who was in charge of this situation. “I should kill you right now,” he insisted. “You used some spell or something. You took advantage of her. You raped her.”

Spike gave him an incredulous look. “Oh, now, look who’s gotten too big for ‘is britches.” He cast an eye down to that region of Riley’s anatomy in a way that made all uptight, insecure men squirm – and Riley squirmed with the best of them. “Or not,” he added slyly, dropping his hand to the waist of his jeans where he still hung out of his jeans proudly.

Riley flinched and refused to look down. “Get dressed,” he ordered. “Jonathan’ll be here soon.”

“Ooh, a threesome,” Spike said with a delighted smile, “din’t know you were into that kinda thing…”

He tucked himself back into his pants and zipped up, point proven. If Riley had been able to challenge him in that department, he certainly would have since even a lummox like this wooden soldier knew how much size really mattered. It was nice to know that the feels the Slayer had been coping off of him had revealed a treat larger than any she’d ever had before…

Riley’s lips attempted to curl in disgust. They failed miserably, however, just like they had failed to convey sarcasm or anger. “Just shut up,” he hissed, his finger twitching on the trigger. “A filthy animal like you doesn’t get a chance to speak.”

Spike yawned nonchalantly and lay back down on the sarcophagus. “Jus’ wake me when Johnny gets here,” he said in as trivializing and condescending a tone as he could manage. “Hate to miss out on the real action…”

Riley ground his teeth together in blind fury, but managed to still his itchy trigger finger. Jonathan needed this worthless creature alive so that he could reverse the spell or thrall or whatever was on Buffy. Poised in a state of constant readiness, he watched as the vampire seemingly slept the next few minutes away, while Riley waited tense as all hell.

“Y’know what your problem is, White Bread?” Spike finally asked, rolling over to face Riley with a wicked gleam in his eye.

“Something tells me I’m about to find out,” Riley countered irately.

Spike rolled his eyes. “You’re so bleedin’ militaristic,” he retorted. “ ‘Yes, sir’, ‘yes, ma’am’, ‘would you like me to lick your boots, sir?’ Hell, you prob’ly had to read the soddin’ manual before you had a go with your l’il Slayer.”

“Go on.” Riley raised the crossbow. “I dare you.”

Spike scoffed. “You won’t do it,” he insisted. “That would be ‘gainst your orders, an’ heaven forbid you should ever think for yourself…”

“You are this close.” Riley lined up his shot.

“This close to what?” Spike demanded. “More empty threats? You gonna try to bully me around a bit more? Maybe knock me around a bit? That’ll make you feel all tough an’ manly again, ‘d wager – beatin’ up on someone who can’t hit back.”

“Shut—” Riley began just as the crypt door opened up.

Just as Spike had planned it, his enhanced hearing having alerted him long ago of the two voices approaching.

“But this is just Spike’s—” Buffy was in the process of saying.

Jonathan shut the door behind the two of them, gave Riley a quick nod of approval at how he had the Spike situation well in hand, and turned back to Buffy. “I lied,” he informed her matter-of-factly. “There is no new Master in town.”

“What…?” Buffy looked to Spike confusedly, then saw what Riley was doing. “Riley, put that down,” she said with sudden alarm.

“He did a real good job brainwashing you, didn’t he?” Riley retorted coldly. “It’s all right, though. We’ll break his thrall in no time.”

Buffy frowned. “What are you talking about?” she demanded, still confused.

“I had Riley follow you last night,” Jonathan began. “I was a bit worried about how you’ve been acting lately.”

Buffy’s stomach twisted into a knot. They knew… She and Spike had been trying to be so careful, but now Jonathan knew they were onto his little spell, and he was going to…what exactly?

“How could you, Buffy?” Riley demanded in a voice full of hurt. “I know he’s got you under a spell or something, but still…”

“You know about the spell?” Buffy said in disbelief, misconstruing his meaning entirely.

Riley nodded solemnly. “Don’t you worry,” he told her. “We’ll find a way to undo it, and then everything will be back to normal again.”

Buffy frowned. “That’s what we’ve been trying to do.” She looked to Spike, trying to figure out exactly what it was she was missing.

He gave her a warning look not to say any more, and – if anything – it made her more puzzled than before.

Riley was confused now, too. “Why would Spike try to remove a spell he cast?” he asked Jonathan.

This caused Buffy’s head to whip around to look at him. Aha! Her mind came to a revelation. Spell being discussed is not Jonathan’s enhancement spell. Which explains why Spike wants me to stop referring to said enhancement spell. Which doesn’t explain in the slightest what spell Riley’s talking about…

“What spell are you talking about, Riley?” Buffy decided to go for direct, as always.

“The one he,” Riley threw Spike a disgusted look, “cast on you to make you sleep with him.”

“What?!” The volume of her exclamation made Spike flinch. She gave him an apologetic look. “What?!” she repeated a bit quieter but still in complete and utter disbelief.

“I saw you,” Riley informed her. “Last night. He made you help him break into people’s houses, and then he made you…” He gulped. “I-I…heard the two of you…”

“Heard us what?” she retorted sarcastically. “Argue about how hard the sarcophagus is?”

Riley blanched and looked at the structure Spike was still seated on with newfound horror. “I don’t need to know the details,” he said, his voice shaking slightly.

“Details?!” Buffy was getting more and more pissed off by the second. “No-thing. Hap-pened,” she said in slow monotone.

“You did break into my house, though,” Jonathan took charge of the conversation again. “And into Giles’ as well.”

Buffy gave Spike a nervous glance. He shrugged, then looked down in an odd gesture that almost looked like it was supposed to be sheepish… Except she’d seen sheepish-Spike before, and he looked totally different.

Jonathan and Riley seemed to take the look at face value, at least. Buffy stuttered for a response to Jonathan’s accusation while her eyes found what Spike had been subtly indicating to her. He nodded slowly when her eyes alighted on the trapdoor and then back to him.

“Th-There’s a perfectly good explanation for that,” she began, distracting both Jonathan and Riley’s attention while Spike slowly inched off of the sarcophagus and snuck up on Riley. She had absolutely no idea what he planned to do with the chip in his head, but she bought him as much time as she could. “You see,” she flashed them a bright smile, “there was this spell that I wanted to do. But it was supposed to be this big surprise. So big that I couldn’t tell any of you about it. But I could tell Spike because he wasn’t any of you. So anyway, I needed to find the spell in a book. But I couldn’t tell any of you, so I had to look through your magic books while you weren’t there…”

She was dimly aware of the fact that her excuse made no sense as she babbled on and on. Fortunately, it had given Spike time to sneak up right beside Riley and reactivate the safety catch on the crossbow with the fluid grace of a skilled pickpocket.

He gave her a little nod, and through some form of psychic communication she instantly understood what his plan was exactly.

She began walking toward Jonathan, a pleading tone in her voice as she continued. “It wasn’t a bad spell, honest,” she implored him, “and I would tell you what it is, but it’s a really big secret and—”

Spike gave her the go ahead nod.

She shrieked and pointed over her shoulder at him.

Jonathan and Riley both spun around to face him, Riley’s finger pulling the trigger on the crossbow and discovering that it had been disabled.

In the meantime, while Jonathan’s back was turned, Buffy brought her heel down hard on his collarbone, sending him slumping to the floor, unconscious.

Riley spun back around to face her, this time his crossbow set to kill, but Spike’s foot caught his ankle, tripping him. He sprawled forward and landed right on top of Jonathan with a loud ‘oof’.

Buffy grabbed the crossbow from him and dashed over to where Spike had raised the trapdoor. Trusting him instinctively, she dove into the blackened opening, hearing the vampire follow her a few seconds later.

“Hold the door up,” Spike ordered her, listening to the sounds of Jonathan and Riley swearing as they untangled themselves. “’ll get somethin’ to prop it shut.”

Buffy did as he asked, poised on the ladder underneath the trapdoor and pushing upward as hard as she could in order to counteract the downwards pushes from above.

After a couple of minutes, it occurred to Buffy that if Spike was planning on setting her up, he’d just done an absolutely perfect job of it. She was pretty much trapped, with no way to escape without her pursuers getting in. Boy, you sure can pick ‘em, the disillusioned part of her mind spoke up. Boyfriend #4 ditches you to save himself while Boyfriend #3 breaks in the door to kill you…

Spike’s a boyfriend? Another nervous, vulnerable voice asked. That was a question that was much better explored later. Right now, she had to determine just how screwed she really was.

“Spike?” she asked anxiously into the darkness.

“Just a second, luv.” The familiar, rough British tones sounded like music to her ears. “’ve almost got it…there!”

Buffy saw something vaguely move beside her and squinted to see a large wooden beam being propped up against the trapdoor.

“That holdin’, pet?” Spike asked from where he’d anchored the other end between two boulders.

Buffy cautiously let go. Jonathan and Riley continued to bang on the trapdoor, but it didn’t budge. “It’s good,” she informed him, scampering down the ladder. “Now, please tell me there’s another way out of here…” she said wearily.

She felt cool fingers intertwine with hers, and she held on to him tightly, allowing him to guide her through what seemed like an endless maze of twisting corridors.

“Where are we going?” she finally asked breathlessly after all she’d known for quite some time were the blackness and the strong hand that led her.

“Far away from there ‘s we can get,” he responded.

“Can we stop for a second?” she requested.

He did as she asked so abruptly that she crashed right into his back. “Sorry,” she said, regretting the feel of well-worn leather beneath her cheek the instant she pulled away.

“Why’re we stoppin’ then?” he asked casually, sneaking a look at their locked hands and smiling only because he knew that she wouldn’t be able to see it.

“We need a plan,” Buffy explained, “and I need a bit of a rest.”

“All right then.” He gave her a gentle pull over to the wall and sat down against it.

She followed his example and sat beside him, her shoulders and hips lightly touching his. Although it was no longer necessary, their hands remained firmly linked, neither having any real desire to break contact.

Spike listened to her gasping breaths in the darkness and fought back the swelling desire within him at the feel of her burning flesh nestled right up against him. He could tell that the Slayer had absolutely no idea how she was effecting him, and it was driving him absolutely crazy…

Buffy’s breath slowed gradually, and the presence of the vampire so close beside her comforted her in all sorts of inappropriate ways she really didn’t want to think about at the moment. In fact, she was strangely calm considering the fact that Riley was probably thoroughly convinced both that she was sleeping with Spike and that she was now evil.

The second part was entirely Jonathan’s spell’s influence, and the first… Well, you’ve already covered heresy by thought and heresy by word, a very Faith-like voice spoke up. All you’ve got left is heresy by deed… And since you’ve already been found guilty no matter what you’ve actually done…have a little fun for once!

Buffy blushed and looked away from the vampire beside her.

“Slayer?” he asked softly.

“Mmm?” she turned back to face him.

“What do we do now?” he wondered.

Buffy sighed and felt very, very tired. For a second she contemplated resting her head on his shoulder and having herself a nice nap. Her pleasant dreams of the morning had been rudely interrupted when Jonathan had woken her up under the pretense of slaying. She discarded the idea, however. He hadn’t really given her any sign that he was up for anything much more than a quick fuck…and he hadn’t even given her many signs of that one.

Apparently, her conscious mind found the fact that his hand his held hers and his thumb was tracing patterns into her palm so soothing and comforting and natural that it was ignored just as her breathing and heartbeat were.

“We have to find somewhere to go,” she finally began. “Somewhere that’ll be safe until nightfall. Then, we have to find the monster and kill it. The universe will revert back to normal then, and maybe things won’t look so grim…”

She shivered. She jerked in surprise when his hand released hers and nearly complained before his arm ever-so-cautiously wrapped itself around her shoulders, drawing her close.

“Cold, luv?” he whispered right in her ear.

“Mmm-hmm,” she murmured contentedly, her head finally pillowed against his shoulder.

He managed to slip off his duster without disturbing her and wrapped it tightly around her shoulders. She gave him a grateful little smile, knowing that he would be able to see it even in the dark.

Without thinking, he brushed aside a lock of hair that had fallen into her face and stopped in mid-motion when he realized what he was doing.

Slayer’s just an ally to get back at Jonathan, remember mate? He chided himself. Maybe you take her for one quick ride just to test her out. You do not start getting that strange, warm feeling in your chest that makes you feel as if your heart’s beating again…

But that voice in his head seemed so faraway and distant, and the heat beneath his breast felt so warm and real. What had originally begun as an amused pass at her quickly transformed into something much different.

She was nestled back against his chest now, breathing in the intoxicating aroma that was Spike and enjoying the feeling of lazy contentment that settled over her.

“I’m sleepy,” she yawned.

“I know a place,” he said softly. “Close by. Harm used to live there, but then she ditched town, an’…’s open now.”

“Let’s go,” Buffy agreed, reluctantly pulling away from him and sitting up. “I think we could both use a little rest after this morning’s wake up call.”

He caught her about the waist and lifted her onto her feet. Bloody hell, she was hot! And oh-so-sexy in his black leather…

“Spike?” she whispered huskily, her lips only a few inches from his and her hands resting lightly on his chest.

“W-We should go,” he said, a slight tremor in his voice. His caught her hand in his once again. “C’mon.”

A bit disappointed, Buffy followed, still clinging tightly to his hand…