She was getting really good at ignoring her mom's pleading looks to continue circulating.

The art wasn't even interesting anymore. Okay, yeah, at first sight fertility art was cool, but how many mondo-sized penises could a girl see, even if she hadn't seen a real one in way too long to think about.

And those chunky little women figures...Pendulous breasts were a turn on?

Oh, right, this was art, not porn. Wasn't supposed to be a turn on. Yada, yada, yada. Buffy could still hear her mom's little speech about how she was eighteen now and since she wasn't quite innocent any longer--delicately put, mom--she could do the free labor thing during the more adult showings. It was primitive art, not tacky porno crap.

But that four foot dick really was making her feel weird...

Vaguely she heard her mom's voice rise in greeting someone new and Buffy glanced over, trying to see whom her mother was excited about, but the person must have already moved along.

Eager to see the porn...

Shifting from one foot to the other, she pasted on a fake smile as patrons stopped to get mini quiches and little crab puff thingies, for another fifteen minutes. Her tray empty, Buffy gave a sigh of relief and headed for the kitchenette, hoping to all the gods and goddesses out there that the caterer had run out of food so she could go Bronzing.

Passing a really ugly little wooden man with a dick bigger than her arm, Buffy nearly ran into the man looking at it.

"'Scuse me," she mumbled, then looked up. Her mouth dropped open and she stumbled backwards, trying desperately to think of a way to get the stake tucked into the top of her stocking without it looking like she was sticking her hand up her dress.

"Slayer," Spike said cheerfully. "Have an interest in primitive art?"

"What are you doing here?" Buffy hissed, wondering if the edge of the tray was sharp enough to cut off a head if she flung it like a frisbee.

"Your mum invited me." He grinned at her discomfort and slipped his hands into the pockets of the dark gray pants he wore.

Buffy gaped even more, but she wasn't sure if it was because of his statement or because he was wearing the most gorgeous suit she had ever seen with a crisp white shirt and a red silk tie. Damn he looked good.

"Why on Earth would my mother invite you, a vampire?" she somehow managed to ask without tripping over her tongue.

"She knows I like fertility pieces." His grin widened into a smirk and her eyes narrowed.

"Leave now," she hissed.

Ignoring her, Spike turned back to the piece he had been admiring. "What do you think of this one, luv?"

"Huh? Wh--what? Oh, it's ridiculous. They're all ridiculous." She felt heat rise in her cheeks as her eyes went from Spike to the piece of art and back.

"Not to the people who created them. Though I admit, a man has to be secure in his masculinity to like this stuff." The look he gave her conveyed the information that he was quite secure in his masculinity. "Where's the great poof? He always liked this stuff."

"Um...I haven't seen him...recently."

Spike cocked an eyebrow and watched her eyes sink to the floor. "Something wrong in paradise, pet?"

"There is no paradise," she answered him with a scowl. "Look, as long as you behave I guess you can stay, but I have to go serve food." As she turned to go, he caught her wrist, pulling her back around.

"Is it finally over between you two?" Spike asked softly.

"Well, you were right about one thing, Spike," Buffy said bitterly. "We couldn't be friends. Unfortunately, we can't do that shagging bit either, so lovers is out as well."

"Oh, yeah, we really don't want to set the prick free again, do we?"

Buffy turned bright red and pulled free of him. "Why do I talk to him?" she muttered to herself, as she stomped towards the back of the gallery. She knew he was following her, but chose to ignore him. Flustered, she walked into the first open room and was half way across the floor before she realized it wasn't the kitchenette. Stumbling in the dark room, Buffy ran into a crate and jammed her toes in the stupid shoes. "Fuck."

"Whatever you want, Slayer. I aim to please," Spike said cheerfully as he closed the door and turned on the over head light. Buffy dumped the tray on a stack of crates and sat down on another, taking off her shoe and rubbing her toes.

"This night just sucks."

"I can do that, too."

Snorting, Buffy lobbed the shoe at him, but he ducked. "Cut it out with the innuendo, idiot."

As he leaned against the door, Spike whined, "But, innuendo's so much fun, Slayer." He waggled his eyebrows at her and she suddenly found herself trying to hold in unwarranted giggles. "You're so lovely when you smile, pet."

The laughter died as she swallowed hard. His words had been too serious, too emotion-filled, too...something. "You're full of bull shit, Spike."

"I'm serious, Buffy."

His calling her by her real name gave her a serious case of the wiggins and she jumped to her feet. "Time to go," she stated firmly, hopping over to her shoe and jamming it back on her foot.

With a sigh, Spike stepped away from the door, gesturing for her to proceed him. Buffy grabbed the doorknob and...nothing. She felt for a lock and found...nothing. "Great!"

"Are we locked in?" Spike asked, his voice totally devoid of anything resembling remorse.

"FUCK."

Spike slipped out of his jacket, draping it over the back of a chair and reached for her. Somehow in a ten by ten room filled with only about a dozen packing crates and two chairs, Buffy was unable to avoid his hands...or maybe she just didn't try. She found herself very quickly pinned against his body.

She'd been in that position before, but never like this.

Their eyes met, his full of flashes of lightening, of a passion she had seen in the eyes of only one other man. Her mouth went dry and she stared, unsure of what was going on...and unsure of why she wasn't trying to stop it. "Have you ever thought about it, luv?" His voice was deep and smooth and sent shivers through her.

"What?" she choked out.

"Us, together. So wild, so hot, so magnificent. Fire and ice."

"Um, Spike. Me Slayer, you vampire, remember?"

His hands slid lower down her back, inducing tingles of unwanted pleasure. As they moved over her bottom, Buffy jumped and found herself even closer to him. Something hard was poking into her stomach. She turned bright red as her dulled brain finally figured out what it was.

"Not quite as big as those out there, but I've been told it knows what to do." The leering smile had returned to his face and Buffy flushed, squirming against him. Her mind seemed to have partially shut down and her body was acting all strange. She was as strong as he was. She could easily get away.

So, why wasn't she trying?

"Will you kill me if I kiss you?"

"Wh--what?"

His mouth covered hers and Buffy felt like all the air had been sucked out of her body. She fell into his embrace, her mouth opening for his tongue, as her body filled with red-hot desire. It had been so long. Not since she'd been kissed, but since she'd been kissed by a man who could take it further, who could fulfill the burning inside her.

Wrapping her arms around Spike's neck, she forgot everything and gave herself over to the passion, kissing him back with desperation.

Feeling the heat rising from her, smelling her heady arousal, Spike nearly swallowed his own tongue. His hands tightened on her ass and he lifted her, moving her backwards until she sat on a crate. Her legs found their way around his hips and she arched into him, her lips moving hungrily against his.

Her hands found his tie, quickly pulling it free and tossing it to the floor, then she began to fumble with the buttons on his shirt. As she worked them free, Spike found the zipper on the back of her dress and pulled it down.

At the touch of his cold hands on the hot flesh of her back, Buffy groaned and surged against him, her need spiraling out of control. Her hands touched hard flesh and she lowered her mouth, running hot kisses over his bare chest, licking and nipping at his nipples until he groaned and pulled back.

Slipping the shirt off, Spike reached for her dress and tugged it down her arms. He didn't even glance at her bra, before unhooking it and flinging it across the room. His gaze was caught by her passion-glazed eyes. They burned with intense need.

"Cor, luv. How long has it been?" he murmured as his eyes dropped to her flushed, heaving breasts. The dark pink nipples were engorged, her breasts heavy but firm. Cupping them gently, he leaned down and sucked one nipple into his mouth.

"Spike," she hissed, digging her fingers into his naked back, kneading his hard flesh as he made her gasp and moan in pleasure. She kicked her shoes off and rubbed her silk covered feet over the backs of his thighs.

Wrapping her in his arms again, Spike lowered Buffy onto her back on the long crate--it probably had held that four foot dick- -and leaned over her, his mouth moving lower to run kisses over her taut stomach. His hands found the hem of her dress and he smoothed it up, revealing a black lacy thong, soaked with her need.

His pelvis undulated against hers and she whimpered. Spike's eyes nearly crossed as her wet heat began to burn through the crotch of his trousers. With unsteady hands he unzipped them, letting them drop to his ankles.

Raising her head slightly, Buffy caught a glimpse of his hard, long cock and gasped in delight, her face reddening even more as a pulse began to throb deep inside her.

Spike stood between her legs, nearly whimpering as her stocking clad feet massaged his ass and legs, making his cock ache with need. Somehow he managed to get her thong off with her only missing one stroke with those strong feet. Her legs locked around him and her arms reached for him.

Their pelvises met and they both hissed as his cock hit her swollen clit. Sliding his hands under her, Spike lifted Buffy, arching her to him. She caught his arms, her fingernails digging in as little pants issued from between her lips and her head rolled heavily on the crate.

Lowering his head, he kissed her tenderly, then thrust his cock to the hilt. Spike caught her scream of pleasure in his mouth and the kiss deepened as their hips moved together, easily falling into a rapid pattern of thrusts and withdrawals. Buffy's feet and knees squeezed his hips, drawing him into her as he held her ass up, driving hard.

Squirming and whimpering, Buffy pressed her breasts against his chest, rubbing until her sensitive nipples ached. Her hands slid up, her fingers moving through his short hair, holding his mouth to hers. Their tongues clashed, thrusting against each other as their bodies slapped together, the pace speeding up as their mutual lust grew.

Pulling free of his mouth, Buffy flung her head back and gasped his name, her whole body arching up, driving her clit against the base of his cock as he pounded into her.

Gritting his teeth as his balls grew heavier, Spike dropped her onto the crate and pressed her down with his cock, plunging harder. His fingers slipped between them, over her sweaty flesh and between her wet curls. Finding her pulsing clit, he stroked it, watching the pleasure suffuse her flushed face.

"Come for me, luv. That's it," he coaxed, panting for unnecessary air, as he felt her inner muscles tense around his cock. Her heels drummed against his ass and she bucked upwards, desperately grinding her clit against him. As she stiffened, Spike clapped his free hand over her mouth, groaning as she bit into his flesh with her blunt teeth and let loose a muffled scream.

Buffy convulsed in orgasm, her pussy quaking around Spike's cock, her arms falling limply to her sides as her hips continued to churn with his.

As he watched her collapse, a smile of pleasure on her red face, Spike growled and let himself go, plunging deep as his orgasm hit, sending his cold semen into her hot depths.

Buffy felt him pumping into her, but all she could do was smile and watch the emotions cross his face, wonder and joy filling her satisfied body.

Pulling free from her tight passage, Spike slumped to his knees, shaking in pleasure and amazement.

Slowly, reality began to reassert itself and Buffy sat up, running a shaky hand over her sweaty hair. Suddenly self- conscious, she jerked the dress up, zipping it as best she could, trying not to moan as the stiff cotton rubbed her naked breasts. Tugging the hem down to cover herself, she reddened as she felt their combined secretions oozing out of her and wetting her inner thighs.

Spike rose to his feet, pulling up and fastening his pants, not looking at her, a tiny part of him wondering if the stake he had seen on her thigh would find its way into his heart in the next few seconds.

Rising from the crate and wincing at the pull on muscles unused to such activity, Buffy avoided looking at him, as she searched for her thong. Finding it, she managed to get it on without too much embarrassment, then took a deep breath and turned to face him.

Spike was buttoning his shirt, his fingers heavy and stiff. He was staring at his feet.

Apparently, neither knew what to say and the silence grew increasingly uncomfortable as they finished dressing, Buffy stuffing her bra into one of the crates rather than get half-way naked again to put it on.

"You going to stake me?" Spike asked, his voice sounding harsh in the closed room.

"Um...no?"

"Oh...well...good..." Spike sat down on one of the chairs, crossing one leg over the other, trying to ignore the fact that he now smelled like her...and that the aroma was sending nice tingles through him.

"Maybe it was all the fertility thingies. Overstimulated us or something," Buffy said weakly, trying to come up with a rational explanation for fucking her mortal enemy other than that she had been incredibly horny.

"Yeah, that'll work."

At the snide tone of his voice, her eyes snapped up to his, the color returning to her cheeks. "So, what's your excuse, mr. it's just primitive art."

"Slayer, I've wanted to fuck you since the first time I saw you dancing with your little friends," Spike answered her, his voice dripping with passion...and honesty.

Buffy flushed again, his words sending a thrill of delight through her. A part of her knew that his wanting her shouldn't be a good thing, but the hot dampness between her legs had another thing to say about it....and it was winning.

"Oh...okay." She turned to look at the door, focusing on something other than the renewal of her desire. "Maybe we should try to get out of here."

"Don't trust yourself?"

She scowled at his humor and stomped over to the door. Grabbing the knob, she put all her Slayer strength into it and broke the lock. "Well, fuck," she muttered. "Why didn't I try that before?"

Spike chuckled and rose to his feet, his attitude relaxed again. "I guess you just wanted to jump my bones too badly.

Buffy snarled and peeked out into the hallway, calculating the distance to the girl's room and trying to figure out if she could avoid everyone until she had a chance to freshen up. As it was, her mom was going to kill her for disappearing.

Suddenly, she was turned in Spike's strong arms, her mouth covered by his. Helplessly, she kissed him back, a tiny part of her wondering what the fuck was wrong with her, but the rest of her dazed with passion. Setting her free, he slipped past her. "This is only beginning, Buffy," he said softly, sincerely, before disappearing in that annoying way vampires did.

"Fuck," she muttered before dashing for the bathroom. She refused to think about this anymore. She had fucked Spike. She could live with that. She could!

And it wouldn't happen again.

It didn't matter if just the thought of that sent a fresh surge of lust through her. It really, really didn't...

Fuck...

The End

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