Wild Things

"You ass!"

"Oh, d'you like it?"

Spike turned around, lifted his duster out of the way, and pointed his backside at the Slayer. "I have had compliments before, y'know?"

Buffy rolled her eyes so hard she thought they might fall out of her head.

"Oh, my god! Do you ever get over yourself?" she exclaimed, holding up a hand to halt his answer when his face became a wolfish grin. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"It's a party," he answered, making a 'look around' gesture.

Buffy's hands went to her hips. "It's a party at a house above the Initiative, lived in by several Initiative soldiers!" She could have sworn she saw him become even more pale than usual.

Swallowing, he accused her of winding him up, even as he looked around himself, nervous.

"Nu-uh!" said Buffy. "I'm totally serious."

Spike sighed, setting his half-empty beer bottle down. "Damn. Can't ever have any bloody fun."

"Yeah, right," she shot back, resisting the urge to comfort him. Where did that even come from? Sure, he sounded kinda pity-worthy, but he'd been driving her more nuts than usual, lately. Ever since… Buffy shook herself, refusing to think about it. Where was I? Oh. "I'm sure you have plenty of fun, having Harmony enable your evilness."

For a brief second, Spike swept in close, making her gasp a little. "Is that what you tell yourself, Slayer? Does the thought of her make you jealous?"

Buffy shoved him away. There was no way he could ever know just how close to the mark he hit. I mean, Harmony? If it had to be anyone, why the hell did it have to be Harmony?!

"Get bent!"

"A little late for that," said Spike, laughing at her. Actually laughing at her! I should so stake his ass! Annoyingly, she now had a fantastic mental image of how it looked in his tight, black jeans. As she thought about it for a moment, he got serious again, stepping forward, but not as close as before.

"If you really believed I was sippin' on humans even with this chip in my head, I wouldn't still be walkin' around," he pointed out.

"Whatever," said Buffy, trying not to get drawn into his gaze.

"Is that the best you got?"

"Don't tempt me, Spike!"

"Oh," he closed the full distance between them once more, "But it's so fun."

The way he said it made Buffy shiver in a way that had a lot more to do with being heated than chilled. Cheeks flushed, she made her excuses and headed upstairs, forsanctuary away from all too tempting vampires, to Riley's bedroom.

Buffy paced the room, full of energy and lacking an outlet for it. Sure, she could break a lamp and pretend it was an accident, but that was kinda lame, and not exactly the kind of release she was after.

After quickly peeking back out into the hall to make sure the coast was clear, she closed it again, locked it, and then slid under the covers – peeling off her clothes once there, suddenly finding them way too restricting.

Spike watched from the shadows of the stairs as the Slayer's little blonde head popped out of Riley's room, searched around for him, and then hid away again. She'd been doing this a lot, lately. Getting herself all worked up and then hiding away, depriving them both of what they both so clearly wanted. She could deny it all she wanted; pretend she hadn't gotten carried away same as him, ever since Red's little engagement spell. Damn, it'd been torture in the days afterward. Spike hadn't drunk anything for a full thirty-eight hours, not wanting to lose her taste from his mouth. So, it was gratefully received, the knowledge that she too was so deeply affected from their brief tryst, spell induced or not.

Lost in his thoughts as he was, it wasn't until the unmistakable sound of moans reached his advanced hearing that his reverie broke. The house seemed to shake with it, and- hang on. Is that shaking real?

Somewhere, on the very dullest edges of her awareness, Buffy could hear glass breaking; could feel a swaying. More important than that, she could sense Spike's presence. He was close, maybe even on the other side of the door.

That knowledge should make her stop, but she ignored the part of her brain that told her that, instead focusing on the bit that told her to carry on and give him something really worth hearing.

Spike cursed as a crowd of screaming frat boys ran away from the master bathroom and on past him down the stairs. He could have been flattened for how much care they'd shown, and if that had happened he'd have missed out on the next wonderful development: thorned vines coming out of the walls and blocking the exit.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" he yelled, batting one away with his arm.

"Spike?"

"Huh? Oh." Spike looked over the banister, seeing Xander and the rest of the Slayer's merry band. The Slayer who he could still hear moaning, not too far away, though louder than before. Trying to pretend it wasn't affecting him, Spike tried to focus on what he was being asked. "What's that?"

"Buffy. Is she up there?"

"Uh, yeah. Little, um… indisposed."

Riley pushed his way to the front of the group, demanding that Spike release her and stop whatever plan he had worked on the house.

Rolling his eyes, the Vampire muttered about everything always being his fault, then set about trying to bust into the great Boy Scout's bedroom. He got the door down – being hit by a wave of Slayer sex smell, and the visual to go along with – but was able to go no further, having no invite from the room's owner.

It took all Spike's strength not to whip his pants down and give himself a good stroke at the sight. The Scooby gang were yelling at him again, anyway.

"Alright, alright," he groused, going back and looking down at them again. "Here's the thing: Slayer's trapped. I'm gonna need an invite to go get her."

"Trapped?" Riley questioned. "In my room? Oh no, there's no way you're going in there!"

Mind fogged, Spike was in no mood to stand and chat it out. "Two options, Cardboard," he said, cutting to the point, "Either you fight your way up here and you do the saving, or get over yourself and let me in."

He didn't stand around for the inevitable debate, or the even more inevitable realization that Riley just didn't have what it takes, his feet drawing him back to where he could watch Buffy writhing on the bed. She seemed to be aware of him, her eyes heavily hooded but pointed in his direction. If that didn't seal it, the next bit did.

"Spike? Oh, Spike!"

"Bloody hell!" he nearly came just hearing his name on her lips in those heady, silken tones.

"Hang on, pet," he told her, his voice thick with need as he took the reluctant steps back to the top of the staircase.

"Finn!" he yelled, sounding feral even to his own ears. "Say I can go into that room right this second or I swear to god I'll find a way to kill you, chip or no!"

On the floor below, Riley gulped. "What's happening?" he asked, his voice quivering.

"Don't rightly know, and don't have time to find out. All I can tell is that I need in that room if the Slayer's ever got a hope of getting out of here."

Riley looked around the group, clearly torn, but eventually gave into their demands that he let Spike help.

"Fine, Spike," he ground out, "You have my permission to-"

Spike was already halfway in the room, undoing his belt, before Riley even finished his sentence.

"Oh, Buffy, how you look!" he crooned, practically drooling.

"Spike? Come here, Spike."

"Yes, luv," he agreed, toeing off his boots.

Sliding onto the bed beside her – the covers long gone – he reached for her only for her to pull back, a little.

"Wait," she said, all the while still touching herself.

Spike looked at her genuinely concerned. "You do want this, right?"

"Riley?" she asked, shooting hurt and anger into his veins.

"No," he spat, "He's downstairs."

Buffy gave a gentle nod, accompanied by another moan. "Harmony?"

"What?" It took a minute, but what she was really asking finally sank in. Somewhat soothed, he exclaimed "Well, well, well, is that what it is? You just wanna know the status of the current squeezes."

Buffy didn't answer - wasn't able to answer – but Spike was pretty sure he'd figured it right.

"Don't need to worry about them," he assured, reaching for her once more, "I binned Harm off weeks back, and Finn can't come knockin'."

"Good," Buffy breathed, devouring his mouth in a kiss the next moment.

Xander, Riley, Willow, and Anya stood looking at each other. It had been ages since Spike had last called down to them, but at least the house had stopped shuddering. The vines seemed to have stopped growing and lashing out, too, but it seemed like another few hours before they actually began to recede.

Riley ran for the stairs when they did, only to be stopped in his tracks by Buffy and Spike appearing at the top of the case, beginning their descent. It looked like he might stake the Vampire once his eyes landed on where their hands were joined, but that was the same moment Giles burst in through the front door, talking animatedly about spirits all over town, originating from the house.

His eyes catching sight of the new couple, he stopped stock-still, along with the rest of the Slayer's friends.

"It's okay, Giles," she told him. "I think we satisfied them."