Author: Barb ~Once Bitten Spike~

Pairing: Buffy/Spike

Rating: PG (with major hintage) <g>

Summary: Spoilers for 6th season, through 'Wrecked'.

Disclaimer: Got damned tired of finding Joss' toys all over the yard and put them in *my* toy box. He's probably one of those kids who likes to play with the box, anyway, I mean, look how creative....never mind!

Dedication: To Raeann, with love, at Christmas. May all your dreams have Naked Spike in them. :)

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This story takes place the night of Dawn's injury, from the car crash, in Wrecked. Enjoy. :)

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~ A New Beginning ~

Buffy sat on her bed, her knees drawn up to her chin, her hands clasped around her legs.

She'd gone and done the deed.

Delicious little shivers went up and down her spine, as against her will, she remembered what she and Spike had done that night in the abandoned building.

Then, she realized that she was hungry as hell. What the fuck had brought that on?? Dawn was always saying that Buffy was hungry after monster slaying, but she hadn't realized that it included monster 'wrestling' as well.

She eyed the wooden cross in her hand, and suddenly felt very childish and stupid. Not to mention, hungrier than ever.

What kind of demons was she trying to keep out, anyway? More than likely, her own.

She had clearly enjoyed her time with the vampire, and he had admitted to her that she had given as good as she'd received in the debauchery category.

She smiled a little, remembering. Poor Spike. That admission had probably cost him some of his newly reclaimed 'rocks'.

And she wasn't so sure that she hadn't totally surprised him a time or two, before it was all over. Those blue eyes had widened more than once.

So she was a slut. Sluts get hungry in the middle of the night, especially when fending off guilt and imaginary suitors at the windows.

She swung her legs off the bed, and got to her feet, tossing the cross over her shoulder as did so, uncaring where it landed, and headed for the downstairs and the kitchen.

At the window, a peroxide blonde head ducked out of the way just in time to avoid a wooden missile. It bounced off the window sill and landed on the floor.

"Bloody Hell...."

Spike climbed in the window, grinning at the garlic that hung around the room, and gave the cross a kick that sent it sliding across the floor and under the Slayer's bed.

"Sorry God, that is, if you saw that, if not, no harm done, then."

His keen hearing caught the sound of cabinet doors slamming as Buffy appeased her need for a midnight snack, and he sat down on her bed, smoothing the rumpled surface with one hand.

He sighed. The one place he'd never been invited into, and might well never be.

Then he grinned. Possession is nine tenths of the law...

He lay back, his head nestled in the pillows, and waited for his prey, his blue eyes beginning to glaze a bit, and the lids to droop.

It had been awhile since he'd had a decent rest, what with Buffy coming to him for help, and the fact that he hadn't slept at all the previous day due to stewing over the things they'd said to each other after the big event.

And just thinking of that again, caused him to actually feel warm, and a lazy smile to come to his face, his eye lids opening and closing more slowly, the lashes brushing his cheeks.

In five minutes, he was sound asleep, unwittingly clutching Buffy's stuffed pig, Mr. Gordo, to his breast.

That's where Dawn found him when she stuck her head in the door, to see if Buffy was awake. Her arm was hurting, and she wanted some coddling, but what she got was a small shock when she beheld the figure that was curled up, a smile on his face, asleep on Buffy's bed.

"Oh my God..." She said softly...."Mr. *Gordo*??"

She ducked back out into the hallway, clapping a hand over her mouth as laughter threatened to spill out, forgetting all about her broken arm. The sight of Spike with a stuffed animal was worth that, and more.

Buffy climbed the stairs and found Dawn beside the door to her room, giggling softly. As she saw her sister, Dawn tried to keep a straight face, and failed miserably.

"Okay, the garlic was a bit much, but I fail to see what's so darned funny?" Buffy was carrying a plate piled high with pancakes that smelled of peanut butter and whatever else she'd added to spice them up.

Dawn looked puzzled. "Garlic?...You put garlic on my pancakes? And wait... didn't I toss those in the trash?"

"These are fresh ones...I tried out your recipe. Now what are you doing out of bed and hanging out in the hall?"

Dawn gave her sister a knowing smile. "So were you going to tell me that Spike was spending the night, or is it a big secret? I *knew* you two had been up to something, I could smell his cigarettes on you!"

Buffy, articulate to the last, said..."HUH?"

Dawn blew out her breath loudly and gave Buffy an 'oh come on now' look. She swung the bedroom door open and gestured at the sleeping vampire.

"Like, you didn't even know he was there, right?"

Buffy's mouth dropped open and the plate of pancakes fell from her hands, only saved at the last moment by Dawn's quick catch.

If a person didn't know better, they'd think that her peanut butter pancakes were never meant to be eaten at all.

"I'll just take these into my room where they'll be appreciated. You can make something else...I *am* hurt, you know. I need to food to heal."

Dawn walked off down the hallway, turning once to wink at Buffy, and grin, and then disappeared into her room.

Buffy stood there in the hall, her mouth opening and closing like a fish, and then, slowly, she entered her room and closed the door behind her.

She leaned against the closed door for a time, and just took in the sight of Spike, clad as usual in his black 'T' and jeans, lying on her bed. His leather duster was wrapped around him as he held her stuffed animal to him as if it....almost as if it was someone he loved....

He must be dead to the world, she thought, grimacing at her choice of terms, to not have heard she and Dawn in the hall.

Of course, he'd been sleeping pretty hard earlier that night when she'd gone to get his help...but it wasn't like he had anything to bother him and keep him awake.

Buffy tried to sniff disdainfully, but for some reason it didn't come out very well. But she reminded herself that he was only here to annoy her...after what he'd said early in the evening she couldn't believe he was even here.

Their last words to each other, after seeing to Dawn's comfort, had been something like, 'see you when I see you'....her mumbled 'not if I see you first', was of course, heard by the keen vampiric ears, and he'd sneered at her in true Spike fashion, and swept off into the night.

But now, as she crossed the short distance to the bed and stood looking down at him, there was none of the bluster, the facade, there was only his soft, relaxed features, and the...there was no other way to put it, 'cute' way that he held Mr. Gordo, just under his chin.

She smiled. His mouth was open slightly, and her thoughts went to a very warm place as she focused on his lips. She cursed herself for her weakness, as she slowly lowered herself to the floor and on her knees, and continued to look at him.

He seemed so sweet, lying there, and she could almost forget his biting comments, and his cocky attitude, the cockiness that she usually found amusing but had hated that morning.

Then his eyes were open and the blue orbs focused on her, and took in her kneeling position beside the bed.

"Y'know, Slayer...while you're down there...."

Ok, now this was the Spike she knew.

Buffy dragged her eyes away from Spike's pouting lower lip and grabbed a glass of water from the bedside table.

He tensed, and raised one eyebrow. "You wouldn't..."

"You know I would, you insulting..."

"Sorry for the comment, I just thought, what with you being wet already there was no purpose in dousing me as well."

"Wh...what do you mean, wet, I'm not...."

"I can smell you, Slayer."

His smirk, and the infuriating roll of his tongue against his teeth was the last straw.

She emptied the glass onto his head, taking care not to get Mr. Gordo wet, as she snatched her stuffed toy away from him and tossed it onto a chair.

Spike half sat up and wiped the water out of his eyes, still grinning. He reached out with one hand and encircled Buffy's waist, pulling her to him. In the back of his mind, surprise registered, that she hadn't moved away and was unresisting.

Buffy was experiencing the same wonder. Why the hell was she listening to his infuriating prattle? Why wasn't she kicking the hell out of him right now?

Dawn. Of course, she thought, as he pulled her even closer, and she found herself lying beside him on her bed.

They must not make a racket and disturb her sister. Yes, poor hurt little thing...she needed her rest. They must not do anything that might upset her, either, her innocent little sister.

The sister that was often outside her door and listening anyway, but still.

For a time they just lay beside each other, and held on, their arms around the other's waist. The light from the streetlamps outside was the only illumination, but it was enough to reveal things.

Things like certain barriers weakening....going down altogether.

And not just hers, but his as well. This thing was just as crazy for him, maybe more so, because he was fighting his very nature as a vampire to quell his instinct to feed off of her...her friends...her sister, with whom he'd become quite taken.

For Buffy, it was as if these things were written on his face as she closed the gap between them and softly kissed him.

Spike held back this time. Before, it had been a heated rush, literally, and there had been no time for romance. It might have happened that morning, but for his ill timed and stupid statement about killing slayers.

He kissed her back, his lips caressing hers with a tenderness that must have surprised her, for she drew back and stared at him for a moment.

Then she raised one leg and put it over his hip, bringing their lower regions even closer, and kissed him again.

Spike sucked in an unneeded breath and closed his eyes as he began to more than warm to the situation. His hands moved over her body, and then back up to hold her face to his.

Then, as one hand moved lower, to her waistband, Buffy stopped it with hers.

He paused, and looked at her, a question forming on his lips.

She gave him a quick kiss which effectively halted his speech. Better to stop him before he said anything that would infuriate her again, and ruin the moment. She pulled back a little, smiling at his dazed look.

"Spike...I like this."

He answered with a gentle pelvic thrust, and a smoldering glance.

"So do I, Slayer."

Buffy rolled her eyes. She should never have let up on the lip lock.

"No, Spike, I mean, *this*. Us...just holding each other in my bed, in my room...*that* this!"

He thought about it. Her meaning was slightly unclear to him, or maybe he wanted it to be. Less chance of getting hurt that way. Since when did the girl ever spout romantic speech in 'his' direction?

And he thought he knew what she meant, about the 'her room, her bed' part...because, really, how much action could this innocent little bed have seen?

His thoughts jumped, unbidden, to the probable gropings of Buffy and Angel on this bed, to the night that Dracula had come to visit, and the rompings with Captain Cardboard, to which he had been an unfortunate eavesdropper.

And that was just the stuff he knew about.

Ok, he thought, trying not to think about any of that anymore, especially the *Riley* part, or even worse, the great Poof, this little bed could tell some tales, and he was beginning to see what she meant.

Maybe. In a Spike sort of way.

Buffy wasn't used to this much Spike silence and began to tickle his ribcage lightly with one finger.

He blinked back to the now, and focused on her again.

"Slayer, I....you....we need to..."

She kissed him again before he could finish.

It was becoming a habit.

And not the worst way in the world to keep his mouth shut.

She broke the kiss and snuggled her head under his chin, against his breast.

"Please..." She breathed. "Just let us be...for now. Let me have this."

Suddenly overwhelmed by his emotions, he swallowed a naughty comment before it got out, and hugged her to him, reaching out with one hand to cover them with his duster.

For her, he'd do anything. She only had to ask him.

As his eyes grew heavy once again, he noticed, for the first time, despite the ridiculous garlic hanging there, that Buffy had hung new curtains. Heavy, dark, velvet curtains.

There could only be one reason for those. She was expecting a visitor who was not a morning person.

The lump in his throat about to choke him, he hugged her tighter, and hoped that the tear that had just fallen would go unnoticed. He couldn't bear her derision.

He was surprised when she returned the hug, almost fiercely, and began to cry softly herself.

For the first time, the vampire felt like there was a chance for him. A real chance. If only he didn't manage to muck it up.

Spike stopped all thought and concentrated on feeling.

Tonight all in this house would sleep. And rest. And heal.

Tomorrow morning, when Buffy could think about it all again, his ass would probably be in trouble, but for now, he was in bliss.

Smiling, his tears subsiding, he risked one more thought.

Xander Harris was going to be absolutely *livid*.

Buffy, feeling somewhat better, reached out and slapped his ass. Hard.

"Bloody hell, Slayer! What was *that* for????"

"For whatever devilment you were just thinking about. And Spike...." Buffy paused, and kissed the side of his neck, which caused him to squirm.

"Well?"

She looked up at him in the faint light.

"You might want to get up and draw those drapes, unless you want to be a crispy critter in the morning."

Good grief. How could he have forgotten that basic thing? Perhaps due to never giving a thought to getting as far a spending the night. He started to move her away so that he could get up, but her hold tightened.

"What now?"

She looked uncomfortable and all at once, shy.

"Please....don't call me Slayer anymore, 'kay?"

Well. Getting more intimate all the time, wasn't she?

"It's a deal. If you don't stake me, I won't call you 'Slayer'."

Buffy smiled into the pillow sham as he went to close the curtains. Then, abruptly, she got up, and pulled back the covers so that when he returned to the bed, there was no question about whether or not he was welcome in it.

He shed the duster, and his belt, enjoying her raised eyebrow as he did so.

"The thing pinches, Sl....Buffy. Wouldn't want me uncomfortable, would you now?"

He slid under the covers and pulled her to him again.

"Spike!"

"For the love of all things un Holy, what is it *now*??"

"The *boots*..."

"Oh...yeah."

Old habits died hard. And he had so many of them.

But he was about to form some new and exciting ones, hopefully, so maybe change could be a good thing.

But he was happy to find that Buffy, exhausted from days of stress, had fallen fast asleep.

She trusted him. That was of the good.

And he didn't have to take off his boots.

Bonus.

~ The End ~