CHAPTER 4

Midnight Rendezvous

Avoiding her for a week had been harder than he'd expected. She kept seeking him out. For what? That was obvious.

It was his turn now. He couldn't believe he'd been reduced to something as juvenile as flinging pebbles up at her window. He felt like a bloody teenager.

She stuck her head out, blonde tresses mussed from sleep but eyes bright and wide. "Spike," she murmured, so softly that only a vampire could hear it from that distance.

"We have to talk, Slayer," he called softly.

She nodded, and pulled her head back inside. Within minutes she was standing in front of him wearing a tank top and a pair of Dawn's boxers.

"Finally done with avoiding me, William?" she aksed, cocking an eyebrow at him. "I told you I'd be seeing you."

He gritted his teeth. "Of course you bloody would be seeing me, Slayer. We established long ago that I'm a part of your life now."

"Of course," she said brightly, "but that was before I went six feet under and before I clawed my way back up."

He stared at her. "Christ, Slayer ... Buffy. This isn't you."

"No," she said, moving towards him, "it isn't me." Her bare feet sank into the damp and springy grass with every step. "That me is dead, remember?"

He couldn't move. Bloody hell, not again.

She put a hand on his chest, rolled her head back sensually. "I can feel the empty space, Spike. Where your heart should be. Empty space, like you -- and empty shell of a killer. Emtpy like me."

He started to speak but quick as lightning she reached up and bit his ear, stopping him from uttering any sound resembling words. She took his hand and placed it on the curve of her breast. "Want this again, Spike?" she asked throatily. "It's still yours." She moved closer and gyrated herself lightly against him.

The rage swelled up in him again. He was tired of this girl making a fool out of him. He grabbed both her arms and slammed her against the side of the house. "Mine, are you?" he growled. "Shall I take what's mine, then? You want me to take you right here under your sister's window?"

"Maybe," she laughed. "It doesn't matter anyway."

"What the hell does that mean?" he snapped, voice angry but body more than eager ...

... A fact that she quickly noticed. "Means you'd take me anyway," she whispered. "Anywhere." She laughed. "You havn't been able to get me out of your mind one bit since last week."

He clenched his teeth together, hollowing his cheekbones even more as he stepped closer to her, his erection nudging her stomach, making her squirm. "Know what, Slayer?" he said. "You're right. I haven't been able to get you out of my mind. I think about you every -- bleeding -- second." With each word he pressed closer to her, eliciting tiny moans. "And you know what?" he asked.

She opened her eyes and looked into his. He licked his lips. "I think," he said, leaning close to her ear, "you feel the exact same way." He nipped at her earlobe.

She didn't bother to deny or confirm, just attacked his mouth with a bruising kiss, ripping open his jeans.

He fucked her hard against the side of the house, while Dawn lay half-awake above, wondering drowsily what kind of animals were making those weird thumping noises.