A/N- For all the Spuffy lovers out there.

BPOV

No matter how hard I brushed, how much mouthwash I saturated my tongue with, I couldn't get the taste out.

Really the taste had been scrubbed away like, half a dozen rinses ago, but the memory of the taste refused to be purged from my brain. Smoky, yet cold and sweet like a frozen sugar ashtray, which probably wasn't even a thing, but if it was that's exactly what Spike would have tasted like. It was new and totally different from the handful of other boys I had kissed (I only included the boys; I absolutely refused to compare him to Angel. I was pretty sure just the act itself would violate some great cosmic balance or something and the universe would go ka-plooey). No, he was all man. Hard muscles, and uninhibited passion. Not to mention the skill- dear god that man could kiss.

Which is why he had to be immediately and thoroughly removed from my mouth. He was evil. My enemy. My arch enemy for that matter. Had been a friggen thorn in my side since the moment I met him- which by the way was when he tried to kill me and my mother! Get your head in the game Summers! Your stomach is not tightening at the memory of his tongue swirling in your mouth, or his teeth nipping at your lips. And you are most certainly regretting that kissing was as far as you got. No way.

Ugh. I sighed in defeat and reached for the floss again.

I was so going to kill Willow.

SPOV

Maybe this one would be it. Maybe this drink would finally wash out the taste of Slayer that still lingered treacherously in my mouth.

Of course, that's what I had thought two bottle of Jack Daniels and a pint of blood ago, and the bloody tartlet still remained in my mind fresh as ever.

I remembered with shocking clarity how she has made the tiniest of moans when I bit on her lip, how she squirmed in an effort to get our bodies closer together.

Kissing her felt like the pieced of the puzzle had finally fallen into place.

No. That had been the spell. Remember? The spell Red had cast to make you to get married?

Yeah, get married. That's all it had said. Never mentioned I had to love the bird.

Which of course I didn't. It was cabin fever, that was all. Too much time spent cooped in this bloody crypt, bound to make any man go a bit nutty. So now I know that for me going nutty means mixing up love and hate. Simple mix up really, could have happened to anyone.

But that hadn't accounted for the aching warmth I had felt whenever she smiled up at me, or how a wave of jealous the likes of which I had never felt coursed through my veins when she mentioned the great souled poof.

Which is why I would simply refuse to acknowledge them. Keep 'em bottled up long enough, their bound to die out.

Right?

Oh, Red was so going to get it...