"Hey Spike," Buffy said cheerfully as she entered the training room where Spike was. As usual, he had beaten her to the workout, if the lack of shirt and the sheen of sweat covering his body were any indication. "Mornin' love. Up for a bit of sparring?" Spike asked, cracking his neck as Buffy flung her jacked into the far corner of the training room, revealing a tight black tank top and yoga pants.
"Always," she responded before quickly dropping into fighting stance.
The pair circled each other, neither making a move. However, when it became clear that Buffy wasn't going to strike first Spike gave into his impatient nature and broke the deadlock with a punch aimed at Buffy's nose. The slayer deflected it and sent Spike flying backwards with a snap kick to his midsection. The fight went on for a bit. It wasn't particularly tiring, nor was it viscous. It was simply Spike gauging how much work the Slayer would need to fight whatever new evil was certain to arise, and Buffy enjoying a workout. As an unspoken agreement neither mentioned the kiss, both concentrated on the fight. It ended with Spike straddling a pouting slayer. He had to admit that she made quite the picture. Face flushed, tank top riding up and exposing a tanned stomach, lower lip jutting out in an adorable pout. She was a vision, no doubt about that. But if he didn't train her he would never again be able to look upon her. But, damn it was hard to concentrate with her lying beneath him!
"Spike….Spike you in there?" Buffy asked, arching an eyebrow at the vampire in concern.
"What?" Spike asked.
"You okay?" Buffy asked.
"Yeah, of course," Spike replied.
"So you're still lying on me because…." Buffy trailed off and when Spike registered her words he quickly rolled off the slayer and stumbled to his feet. Buffy shook her head, thoroughly confused at what had Spike so jittery, before standing up.
"So watcher man, what's on the training schedule for today?"
"Well, the sparring was good love but…well, it's just that…." Spike trailed off.
"What?" Buffy asked.
"I know I've probably said this before love, but fighting's like a dance. Every punch and block, every kick, roll and spin has a rhythm to it. That's easy enough. But the hard part of this dance; the part that makes it more than just counting. It's the beauty of it. You think on your feet and that's wonderful. But sometimes, right before you make your move you stop. The music stops flowing," Spike explained. Buffy looked at the vampire in confusion, "You understand love?"
"Not at all," The slayer replied honestly. Spike ran a hand through his hair, and bit his bottom lip in concentration. "You know the mailbox on the corner of Bergan and Paper Mill?" Spike asked. Buffy nodded. "Meet me there tonight at eight o'clock, and I'll show you what I mean."