AN: I just wanted to thank people for their patience with this story. I hope the few readers I've garnered are still with me, I'm actually close to the end and expect it to be done before the end of November. So thank you, and I hope you enjoy the latest installment…

Buffy screamed at the top of her lungs as Spike pushed the accelerator all the way to the floor, speeding along the dirt road to the beach, where all their friends were waiting. It was graduation day. They were finally free.

"Spike, slow down! Spike, we're getting close, you need to slow down! SPIKE!" She screeched along with the tires, and glared at him hatefully for a full two seconds before they both burst out laughing.

"You jerk!"

"You were having fun there, too, Summers."

She stuck her tongue out at him, and he cocked an eyebrow. "Hey now, no fair advertising if you're not gonna…"

She turned bright red and smacked his arm. "Pig."

He laughed again. "Hey, pet, you can't blame a guy. I have been celibate for six months, you know."

"Yeah, yeah," she grumbled. "Celibacy's a bitch, whatever." Opening the car door, she got out, promptly slammed it, and started towards the bonfire in the distance."

"Summers, I didn't mean it like that. I just…oh, bloody hell, woman."

"Well Spike, I'm sure your six months of not getting any really sucks. You wanna know why I'm so sure? Oh, that's right, I've gone eighteen freaking years without it."

"Buffy." He caught up to her, took one of her hands in his. "Look, you know I didn't mean anything by it. It just slipped. I know you're still hurting over this thing with Angel…"

"Oh, you mean the guy who dumped me because he didn't want to have sex with me? No, no, I'm fine." She yanked her hand from his grasp and continued on to the party.

Spike looked up to the sky and groaned. "What the bloody fuck does she want me to do about it?"

By the time he'd caught up with her, she'd already downed half a cup of beer and fortunately, was ready to forgive him. The party wouldn't be as fun, he thought as she smiled brightly up at him, without his girl-friday at his side.

"Spiiiiike," Buffy sing-songed into her now empty cup, "Spikey. You should get me some more beer.

Sighing, he took the cup from her. "I'm not your bleedin' slave, you know."

"Nope!" She giggled, "But your cup is empty, too."

"Drunk Buffy is less fun than Regular Buffy," he muttered as he made his way to the keg. He filled their cups with as expertly as any high-school senior, and when he looked up, he was face-to-face with Drusilla.

"Hello, Spike."

"Dru."

"You're looking well."

"And you're looking bug-shagging crazy."

"Now, now, Spike. Is that any way to speak to your lover?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Dru, what was I thinking—wait a sec—yeah, yeah, it is if that 'lover' dumped you and has been toying with your ripped-out heart ever since."

Dru titled her head as she studied him. He hated when she did that, it was so damn predatory. And to think it used to turn him on…

"Don't have your heart," an eerie giggle sounded from her throat. "You gave it to someone else."

"You're drunk. And loony. But you're right about the first part. You don't have my heart, not anymore. Have a nice life."

Spike turned on his heel and walked back over to where Buffy sat with Willow, Oz and the others. Dru pouted, a whimper escaping her lips. He didn't even notice.

The rest of the party passed in a blur. After his breakup with Dru, Spike had spent more and more time hanging out with Buffy's friends. They hadn't really understood Buffy's relationship with him before that, but he was accepted into the fold easily enough. A solid truce had even developed between him and Xander. On this night, Spike felt truly a part of the group, and it surprised him to realize just how much he had wanted that. He had only begun hanging around them because of Buffy; she'd made it her personal mission to drag him out of his depression. The entire gang had decided the week before that after the party wound down they'd all set up camp on the beach and sleep off whatever state they happened to be in. It made the parents happy to think that no one would be driving, and an entire night away from any supervision was just what the kids all needed after several weeks preparing for and taking finals.

Now as, he trudged back to his car, Spike spun around to look at Buffy as she followed gamely over the dunes to retrieve their sleeping bags. Dawn was beginning to pink the sky to the east, and in the light of the hazy morning he could see very clearly that her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. Her top clung to every curve, curves that he hadn't realized she'd had until now. In his eyes she'd still been the fourteen-year old with the blondish-brownish hair and plump cheeks. At some point, though, she'd grown up. Spike wondered if he had, too. And if so, did she see him any differently from the skinny boy he'd been? It threw him to find how desperately he hoped so.

As he swallowed the lump that had grown in his throat, Buffy looked up at him. They had reached the car, yet he just stood there dumbly with his keys in his hand. She wobbled over to his side, still a bit tipsy. They both were, she knew, but Spike was better at hiding it. "What's up?"

Spike narrowed his eyes before replying, "Nothing."

"Nuh-uh." Buffy shook her head. "That's not nothing-face, it's…"

He silenced her with a hard kiss on the mouth, drew her close so that she molded against him.

"…something-face," she finished dazedly, before she pulled him back in for another kiss, softer and slower and longer. Her fingers threaded in his hair and she marveled at the tang of his tongue, the way his teeth nipped ever so gently at her bottom lip. Kissing Angel hadn't been like this, she thought as his hands gripped her hips, grinding them against his. Spike kissed her like he wasn't afraid she'd break. He kissed her like she was really there. And it felt good. If she had known kissing her best friend would feel this good, she would have started doing it a long time ago. Mmmm. And never stopped. She fumbled for the door handle behind her, had difficulty with the latch while still pressed against the car, but still managed to swing it wide open and pull Spike into the backseat and on top of her.

He wound his arms around her, one hand in her mussed honey-blonde hair and the other at the small of her back, pulling her as tight to him as possible. She broke away and trailed a burning path of kisses down the side of his face and throat. It felt so right having him over her. Her hands ran up and down his back. She stroked the short, velvety hairs at the base of his neck. Spike groaned as she bit his ear, her hot breath sounding a sigh as his hand found its way under her shirt and bra. He kneaded her breast while his lips found hers again. God, she was perfect. Her lips sent an electric current through him, straight through every muscle, organ, sinew and bone. He rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and she moaned, her hands pulling frantically at the hem of his t-shirt. This was rapidly approaching the point where they were likely to regret something in the morning, but neither of them stopped to think about it. Spike shucked his shirt over his head and Buffy's hands flew to the buttons of her own shirt, fumbling at them for a few seconds before she popped one clean off. Spike moved to help her, his hands steadier, and together they made short work of the garment. Her bra, a lavender cotton number, clasped in the front, much to Spike's utter delight. Soon he was face to face with breasts he had only realized she possessed a quarter of an hour before, and they were perfect. She squealed as he attacked them with a growl, but he had her moaning shortly as his tongue and teeth mimicked the earlier actions of his hands.

In all the time she and Angel had spent together, visiting all the bases save one, it had never been like this. Everything with Angel was so serious. He had been her first for practically everything, after all, and it had all felt so momentous at the time. But here, now, with Spike, it was such fun. They fumbled and laughed and tickled their way out of their clothes. Before undoing the button on her cropped jeans, he even blew a raspberry on her stomach. He had her laughing so hard tears came, and then he licked them away, making her giggle more. They barely noticed the intimate state they were now in, both of them naked and obviously aroused as they continued to kiss and nip at each other playfully. When Buffy felt the tip of his erection slip between her folds, though, she broke away from his lips and looked up at him solemnly. They were both panting, and Spike rested his forehead against hers.

"So love, it seems like we're more than friends."

"Seems like."

"We can stop now, if you want." He averted his eyes, suddenly bashful. "It's not like I was expecting this, yeah? I don't have any protection, anyways." He went to pull away, but her arms encircled him tightly.

"Don't."

He looked at her, startled. Her green eyes shone with something he couldn't quite place. Then, she whispered the sexiest words he'd ever heard in his young life:

"It's ok. I'm on the pill."

"You sure, love? Don't you want…"

"I want you," she asserted, pulling him down for a kiss, "I'm here with you."

That was all the assurance he needed. He settled himself back between her thighs and reached a hand down between them. She was already soaking wet, but he wanted to make this as painless as possible for her, so he slipped a finger insider her, pumping gently before he added another and another. The pad of his thumb brushed her clit and she let out a low moan that sent a shiver up his spine. He built up the pressure and speed until she was shaking beneath him, then stopped, bringing his hand to his mouth to taste her. She whimpered, a pout forming on her lips.

"Shh, love. I'll take care of you," he purred as he crawled down her body and took his first long, slow taste of her pussy. She yelped and squirmed and he chuckled, closing his lips around her clit. The vibrations from his low laugh had her higher than his wonderful fingers had moments ago, and then he added his fingers back into the equation. She came with his name on her lips, and while she was still hazy and sated he moved over her again and replaced his fingers with the head of his penis. She bucked against him and he pushed slowly inside, then stopped all movement. Buffy's breath came in harsh pants as he rained kisses over her face, neck and chest.

She began to kiss him back and roll her hips beneath him. He hazarded a few shallow, experimental thrusts and was rewarded with another throaty moan. Emboldened, he built up to a steady rhythm. She felt wonderful around him, hot and tight and her hands wandered up and down his back, scratching and squeezing as they both neared release. Wanting her to come again, he slipped a hand between them and pressed a finger to her clit as his own thrusts became more erratic. She gasped and he groaned and then they were both spent.

He reached to the floor of the car and pulled up one of the sleeping bags, draping it over the both of them. She sighed in contentment as he nestled his head against her breasts. He couldn't resist palming one breast, and she giggled a little before turning her face to his for one more kiss.