The RV bumped, dipped, and swayed for the billion and first time, and it was all Spike could take.
He pushed to his feet and addressed the group gathered around the bench table. "I'm going to find
out our destination before Harris here," he gestured towards the extremely motion sick young man,
"shows us what he's made of."
"Find out how's she's doing, too," Willow pleaded quietly, her green eyes filled with concern.
Spike nodded in affirmation, lightly squeezed Dawn's shoulder, and went to the sliding door
separating the RV's bedroom from the main area. He knocked and opened the door. "Buffy," he
ventured tentatively as he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.
Buffy was hunched over a map spread across the musty-smelling bed, a fierce frown marring her
features. "What do you want?" she said.
"Just came to see if a pit-stop was in our flight plan," Spike replied, crouching beside her. "The
natives are getting seasick."
"No. I don't want to stop unless we absolutely have to, until we get to where we're going," Buffy
"Very well." Spike glanced at the map of southern California. "Where are we going?"
"Don't know yet."
"Are you thinking populated or ghost town?" Spike asked, settling cross-legged on the floor. "It's
easy to disappear into a crowd but, knowing you, you'd be worried about Glory hurtin' innocents."
He rubbed his lower lip, brows furrowed as he thought. "No, we should stay away from the cities.
It's hard enough on you as it is, worrying just about your chums on top of little sis."
The RV hit another pothole. Spike grumbled and shifted on the hard floor. "Damn it, Watcher. Do
your job and 'watch' where you're driving."
"Have I thanked you yet?" Buffy asked out of nowhere.
Spike looked quizzically at her. "'Bout what?"
"For anything," Buffy replied, studying him with a peculiar expression on her face. "For everything
you've done to help me."
"Not necessary." Spike dropped his gaze in embarrassment.
"Yes, it is." Buffy moved from the bed, knelt before him, and lightly grasped his chin. Spike met
her eyes at her prompting. "Yes, it is," she repeated.
Spike was frozen in place when Buffy brushed her lips against his, a brief touch of warmth against
his cool mouth. "Thank you," she breathed a hairbreadth from his tingling lips.
She released him suddenly, stood, and clicked the lock on the sliding door. Then, she held out her hand and pulled him to his feet. Spike blinked at her in confusion when she didn't let go of his hand.
"I can't love you, Spike," she said quietly, looking up at him with a tenderness that he'd never
thought he'd see directed at him. "But I can make love with you."
Spike didn't move -- couldn't move. He could only stare owlishly at her, his mouth hanging open
in stunned disbelief. She hadn't... she couldn't have... she didn't mean...
But she did.
His duster fell heedlessly to the floor. His boots were unlaced and his belt buckle undone before he
fully comprehended what was happening. What was going to happen. But then Buffy's shirt floated
to the worn carpeting and she shimmied out of her tight trousers, and he lost all coherent thought
Buffy smiled with amusement, wearing nothing but sensible white cotton undergarments. She ran
her fingers along the high waistband of the French-cut underwear. "Bet your robot didn't wear
anything like this."
The marbles rattled in Spike's head when he shook it.
Buffy laughed, a light tinkling sound that filled the small cabin and twisted Spike's insides. She
turned and swept the map from the bed, then looked over her shoulder at the unmoving vampire.
"Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to strip and screw me silly?"
She laughed again when Spike practically fell over in his sudden haste to get undressed. His boots
thunked on the floor. He yanked his black shirt over his head, making his hair stand on end. His
jeans were shoved down and off, and he tumbled her softly to the bed.
Another laugh, this one smothered by his mouth covering hers and ending with a content sigh. Any
hesitation on Spike's part was swept away by the passion returned in the kiss. Buffy opened beneath
his sensual assault, her tongue tangling with his. She was not passive; she gave as good as she got,
and Spike couldn't distinguish between her moans of pleasure and his own.
He cupped her cotton-covered breast, thumbing the stiffened peak of her nipple. She arched into his
touch, making soft noises in the back of her throat. But then she pushed his hand away, and he
broke the kiss to look questioningly at her. "D'you want to stop?" he asked in a roughened voice.
Buffy smiled, shook her head, and unhooked the front clasp of her bra. She pushed the plain white
material aside, baring herself to his view, then took his hand and pressed it to her naked flesh.
Spike ducked his head and captured her mouth again in order to hide his sudden tears of wonder and
joy. He gently squeezed and caressed her small breast, tugging lightly at her puckered nipple. She
shifted under him, rubbing her lower body against his in reaction to his ministrations.
"Spike, I want you," she murmured against his lips. "I want you in me."
Spike shuddered hard, and it caused Buffy to pull away and open her eyes. "Spike?" she questioned
"You don't... I..." Spike met her gaze and said thickly, "I want you, too."
Buffy slid her fingers into his ruffled hair. "Then... let's dance."
Spike blinked, then smiled and laughed. "Yes, let's."
Buffy's underwear was removed with little fanfare, and Spike pressed a kiss on her abdomen as he
moved over her. His fingers dipped into her womanly folds and found her very ready for him.
His eyes never left her face as he entered her. The RV stopped its volatile rocking, the background
travel noises faded away as he sheathed himself in her silken heat for the first time.
The Buffy robot had truly been a cold hunk of metal compared to the real thing.
"Gods, you're beautiful," Spike said huskily, memorizing the way she looked spread beneath him.
She shifted, bringing her legs around his waist, accepting him more fully into the cradle of her
thighs. He hissed slowly as he penetrated her deeper. "Buffy..."
"Love me, Spike," Buffy whispered, pulling his mouth to hers.
"Already do," Spike said against her lips before their mouths fused in a tender kiss.
The kiss, however, did not stay tender for long. Hunger and passion ignited as Spike began to move
in her. Buffy rocked her hips, meeting his thrusts, her breathy sounds of pleasure mingling with his.
Spike wanted the moment to last an eternity but, of course, his body had other ideas. Buffy was too
hot, too soft, too silken, too perfect. And his love for her intensified everything he felt.
He pulled away, rising up on one arm as his fingers delved between them. He found her distended
nub and tugged it in rhythm with his thrusts. Buffy gasped, squeezed her eyes shut and threw her
head back as she came, exposing the delicate length of her neck. But Spike felt no bloodlust, only
satisfaction that he gave her release.
Spike felt her inner walls flutter, then clamp hard around him, and that was the end. His pace sped
up uncontrollably until he was tossed unceremoniously over the edge of completion. He pushed
fully into her, as deeply as possible, and climaxed with a silent cry of her name.
Slowly, the unsteady rocking motion of the RV and the choking sound of its engine invaded their
private world. Spike didn't want to leave his idyllic paradise, but responsibility and worry -- two
feelings he'd thought he'd never have for a group of humans -- made him kiss Buffy on her bare
shoulder and move to retrieve their clothing.
They dressed without speaking, the scent of intercourse heavy in the small room. Spike sat on the
edge of the bed to tie his boots, watching Buffy from the corner of his eye. She looked tired, a bit
scared, a tad angry, and most obviously well-loved.
"Thank you, Buffy." Although Spike said it in barely a whisper, Buffy jumped and whirled to face
"You're thanking me?" Buffy said incredulously.
Spike nodded and dropped his eyes as he put on his duster. "You turned my dreams into reality.
Hokey as it sounds, it's the truth, and not many chaps can say their dreams came true. So... thanks."
Buffy studied him for a moment, then crossed to him and kissed him on the cheek. "It was my
pleasure," she said softly. "Now, get out. I have to open the window because it smells like sex."
Spike gave her a happy smile, rose, and moved to the door. He paused and glanced back at her.
"I've been in here long enough to plan the Iditeron, pet. They're going to want to know where we're
"Uh..." Buffy looked helplessly at the map strewn on the floor. "...Mexico?"
Spike rolled his eyes. "I'll make something up."
He unlatched the door and started to open it when Buffy called to him. "Spike..."
The vampire looked at her with a questioning lift of his brow. "Yeah, luv?"
She gave him a sincere smile. "Thank you."
All the 'what fors' were left unspoken, but Spike knew exactly what she was saying. His heart
melted. "Anytime, Slayer," he said. "Anytime."