Temptation

(ooc: Characters are not ours, they're Joss')


Dawn tried a new strategy over the next week, barely speaking to Spike except when forced to by circumstances, in Victorian Literature or during Watcher Training. She found it incredibly frustrating, but she did take a perverse pleasure in taunting him physically while ignoring him verbally. She never passed up an opportunity to flash the upper slopes of her breasts at him, or to cross her legs a la Sharon Stone, while in her short school-girl skirt; she never missed a chance to rub up against him tantalizingly during sparring. But that was all she did.

That, and take many, many cold showers. Also, if the myth about hairy palms had been true? She’d be giving werewolves a run for their money. None of it was enough, though, to sate or even really blunt her desire for Spike.

Luckily, there were other projects that she had going, most importantly the one involving revenge on the tennis team. Several hours of extremely embarrassing footage had been narrowed down to a thirty-minute ‘best of’ reel, and Dawn was getting ready to insinuate copies of it into every VCR in the school, to possibly upload it to the internet, and to make sure each girl got her very own copy. She thought it might not hurt to leave a copy in the boys’ lounge, too.

Make her cry, would they? Call her a whore? Well, payback was a bitch, and so was Dawn. Not one of those jealous girls would be able to hold her head up after this. She even had the vicious notes for them all planned out, for insertion during (of course) Chemistry class, into their lab books. She thought, What, don’t you like being a movie-star? had a nice ring to it.

*

Spike sat on a sofa in the faculty lounge, staring at the newspaper. He neither tasted the coffee he was sipping on, or took note of news developments. Instead, his mind was where is shouldn't be - on Dawn. Where was she now? Who was she with. What was going through that teen's diabolical mind now? She'd already found a thousand ways to torture him, to make him question his resolve. There were times when he'd been so close to breaking that one word from her would have been enough to take him over the edge enough to give them both what they craved.

"Spike, old man, you're looking rather tired."

Spike looked over at Danby and grunted. "Am, a bit."

"Well, who wouldn't be with all that dallying. Your teaching carreer is about to go down the tubes."

"What?" Spike had the inexplicable urge to wipe that malicious smile off Danby's face with a bruiser. He flexed his hand but kept his grip on the mug. "Have no idea what your'e on about. Had a bit of rum with your coffee this morning, did you?"

"Dawn Summers is what I'm going on about... as is everyone else in this room"

Spike looked around and found all eyes were on him... on them. He scowled. "You'd do well not to listen to malicious rumours. She's having a bit of a problem fitting in and some of her classmates are spreading unhealthy stories."

"Unhealthy," Danby guffawed. "I'll say, a man your age... with a school girl. You're history, my friend."

Spike winced at the direct accusation - it found its mark only too well. "There's nothing to the story. Leave it alone, Danby."

"You can fool some of the people some of the time... but mark my words... the rest of us are on to you. Do you suppose they have better food in prison?" Danby rose just as a prunish woman joined him. She gave Spike an open look of disapproval, and walked away with Danby.

There was nothing but hostility and accusation in every pair of eyes on him. He set his mug down and left his paper on the sofa. Did these fools not realize how hard he was fighting to do the right thing?

It wasn't as if he'd awakened one day and said he wanted this ... this attraction... these... these feelings that sometimes overwhelmed him. At first he'd thought it was only physical, but now... he knew he cared, and not because of second hand knowledge of his history with her, these feeling were new, and they were real, and they hurt. Separation hurt. If only she'd come to England later, when... funny how a few years made such a difference.

"Child molesting bastard," someone hissed as he walked down the hall. Maybe not so funny, then.

*

Dawn swung into Watcher Training with renewed determination to get revenge on the girls, and in shorter shorts and a more uplifting sports bra than previously, having shucked her baggy sweats in the locker room. Easy enough to claim she was "too hot." But, she vowed to herself, still no personal conversation. Nothing verbal. All physical temptation.

Because of the school's Halloween party, apparently the brainchild of one of the students from across the pond, training sessions were going to be cut short. Spike was proposing the paces they ought to put the trainees through and stopped mid-sentence when she walked in. Her shorts were hitched so high, you didn't have to have an imagination to know what every part of her looked like. She was going to do it again, run him through the mill.

"You were saying?"

Dragging his gaze away from Dawn, he strung a few intelligent words together and clapped his hands. The sooner they started, the sooner they'd be out of here.

Dawn bounced to her usual warm-up position, front and center, but said nothing to Spike, and didn't even look his way. But his mere presence was like sunlight along her skin, even in the perpetual fog of the English October.

After only a short period of time, he blew his whistle and called her over. Then he kicked himself for cutting her warm up short just because he couldn't deal with her motions.

Dawn chewed her lip. This was new. She decided to obey, wondering what was going on. “Yes, Mr. Spike?”

He nodded toward the back of the work out room and turned on his heels when she followed him there. "Enough. You're to stop this... all of this, immediately. I'm serious, Dawn... no more touching me, no more taunting... no more of the..." he waved his hand down the length of her body. "No more games. You are too young for me... it's how it is, and we have to bloody well live with it. I'm not your friend, I'm not your lov... I'm not your anything. Not now."

She put one hand on her hip, and looked at him levelly. “Yes you are. Were, are, will be. It’s not like a spell, Spike; you can’t change reality just by wanting to. And you don’t. I haven’t said two words to you that aren’t school related in a week. And I walk in here and you go all Mr. Proper now? I don’t think so. I’m not buying what you’re selling.” She paused and bit her lower lip, the only sign of uncertainty in her stance and voice. “But I’ll give you anything you want. Except me giving up on you, so don’t ask.”

He scrubbed his face with his hand. "That's bloody well what I will ask... I do ask." He met her gaze and held it. "It is the only thing I'll ever ask. Do it... for me." So I can do it for you.

Dawn paled and shut her eyes in pain. A moment later, she opened them, the sunlit blue much more steely in hue. "You want me to stop. To find someone else. To leave you in peace. Is that right?"

"Yes...no... yes..." he looked down, unable to stand the anguish in her face. "I don't want it... I need it. I need for you to do... that." He couldn't even say the words.

"Date boys," she went on relentlessly. "Learn from them. Experiment. Kiss. Fondle. Caress." She crossed her arms. "Better be sure that you want it, Spike. I know I damned well don't."

Go ahead rake a man's heart over hot coals. He took a breath and met her eyes. "Do it," he snapped, his head jerking back as he spoke.

Turning on his heels, he walked away, waving another trainer off. "Not feeling right."

"What about patrol?" The watcher called out... "Huh? Are you.... bah," he waved another watcher over to where Dawn was to take over training.

Dawn stared after Spike with what appeared to be stony indifference, when all she wanted was to weep. He was telling her to whore herself out for experience, and screw affection or love or honest desire. It was a horrible realization.

* * *

Spike had taken a good long shower, letting the hot water run over his head and shoulders as he thought about one of the worst days of his life. And now that he'd gotten the commitment he'd wanted from her, it was STILL one of the worst days of his life.

But he was a lot calmer... even resolved... as he stood in the hall that had been decorated for Halloween - American Style. As students filed by him, holding hands, exchanging looks, and looking absolutely like anything but real vampires and witches, he wondered what they'd think of the real thing.

Dawn dressed for the dance as though arming herself for war. So Spike wanted her to date boring boys her own age when she felt so strongly for him, wanted him so much, could feel her own pulse pounding harder just at the thought of being near him? Fat. Fucking. Chance. And she'd show him just how stupid the idea was, if she had to. Maybe some in-his-face empirical evidence would do the trick.

But that wasn't the only battle she intended to fight tonight. No, indeed. The DVD with up close footage of Giselle and the other tennis players in embarrassing positions was burned and ready to go. She'd slip it in among the dance video DVDs that were providing both music and entertainment for the Halloween dance that evening. Dawn was damned sure they'd be entertained. Fair payback for the ways they'd harassed her.

She drew on the sheer harem-girl pants, and fastened the jangling gold bodice above her fragile sheer shirt. No room for a bra in one of these! Gold slippers on her feet, and bangles in her hair and on her arms, and she was ready. Carefully, she slipped the DVD into her costume at the small of her back, making sure it was hidden. She might have to walk a bit more interestingly, but it would stay concealed until she could slip it into the pile. Good enough.

As she made her way to the redecorated dining hall, she caught sight of Spike at the doors. Of course, he would have to chaperone. Her eyes turned steely again, and Dawn reached out an arm to the hulking rugby player walking beside her. "Alain," she said, "I really love your costume," and hooked her arm through his for a moment.

"Thanks... you look..."

Spike didn't have to hear the rest of the jock's words to know how she looked to him. You'd think the boy had stuffed a pirate flag down his pants. Gritting his teeth, he nodded at them. "Evening. You know the rules..."

"Have fun, go wild, but not too wild... like my outfit, Mr. Spike?" The jock gave a sloppy smile.

"Pirate... how very original."

"Pirate with an earring that's ... someplace other than his ear, and with booty," he patted Dawn's backside. "Spoils of war... come on, let me show you that gold ring..."

She giggled up at Alain, but kept her eyes on Spike. "Don't worry, Mr. Spike. I won't be breaking any rules. You made them very clear to me earlier today. So don't worry about a thing."

Spike struggled to maintain his cool exterior as he met her gaze. He struggled even harder not to notice her young curves, or the sound the little gold trinkets made, punctuating her every movement, or her scent. "Good... that's nice." The sound of a gasp from another chaperone alerted him to the fact his glaze had slid down to her breasts as he spoke.

Dawn smiled demurely up at Spike, and let Alain pull her into the dance, making sure to put a little extra sway in her stride, long legs shimmering through the sheer pants as she walked away from the door.

Fine... she ought to see boys her age, but did it have to be THAT one? As he headed for the other side of the room, turned, and leaned against the wall, he craved a drink. A strong one. It was going to be a long, long night.

Dawn allowed Alain to drag her onto the dance floor, and let go of his arm, gritting her teeth as he snatched at her ass again. "I'm like, soo not slow dancing to a fast song," she chided him, aware of Spike moving far from the pair of them. Damn him! Putting space between them, she began to dance, twisting to the music in a way that emphasized her flaring hips and tiny waist, and made the dangling medallions about her sway and chime in time with the music. Evading his hands became more like a joke between them, and less like her having to dodge gropage, which was good. It made it so she could be more taunting, less evasive. It made it look real.

Try as he might, Spike couldn't concentrate on anything but Dawn. He had to be a masochist, because the more he stared, the more he watched her hips shake, the more her chest rocked back and forth... the more he craved her, wanted her, wanted to touch her. He knew, if he were the one dancing with her, his hands would slide up and down her body, he'd pull her up against him, feel her move against him, hear her gasp at the feel of his arousal….

His gaze narrowed as a pair of clumsy hands reached for her again, touched her exposed waist as if by mistake. There... again... Alain touching her, Alain's face getting redder by the moment... his movements more strained.…

And she was moving closer to him... close enough to scrape her hips against the boy's cock... and he bloody fucking liked it. Spike squeezed the empty paper cup in his hand and tried to deal with the emotions raging within him.

Alain gripped Dawn's hand and turned her around, in the process raising his other hand, and feeling her breasts brush all the way across his palms up to his inner arm. She was fucking hot... she was getting him so so hot. "What's this made of?" he asked, running a finger along the bottom of her vest, his heart beating harder by the minute.

"Six polyesters died to make this top," she quipped. "Hey, I'm going to go make a music request, okay? Be right back—" and she slid away from him, heading for the VJ table. Once there, she leaned forward, using her harem girl top to distract the boy 'spinning' discs as she slid her naughty little home video DVD into the pile, second from the top. It was amazingly easy. Smiling at him, and offering a quick "thank you," over her shoulder, she returned to the dance floor, but not to Alain. He was big and strong, but he was human. And if he pushed too hard, she'd probably react like he was a vamp.

Oh, shit! Their first patrol was tonight, too. She sure hoped that DVD would get played before she had to leave! Dawn blended into the dancing teens, and soon had another Brit, another boy whose name she didn't even know, dancing into her personal space.

She'd lost fool number one, only to gain another. This one wasn't quite as clumsy. Like a hawk, he watched the pair, biting his lip as the strobe lights made their dance seem that much more like groping than dancing. Bloody Fucking Hell... shouldn't the rules forbid this?

Dawn was having a little more trouble staying clear of this unknown boy –he had some moves that were pretty hard to predict, and was smoother than Alain had been. Tossing her hair, she rested a hand on his chest, saying, "It's getting pretty hot. Would you get me something to drink?"

"Would love to," he answered slipping his hand behind her back so that she walked close to him as they headed toward the exit to the hallway, picking up a few drinks on the way. "Tell me, why haven't I seen you before?" he asked, "I'm sure I would have noticed."

"Oh, we all look alike in those uniforms," she replied, a bit absentmindedly. She stopped just outside the door, leaned against the wall nonchalantly, and sipped at her drink. "I'm not surprised you missed me in the horde around here." Where had Spike gotten to? At least this one didn't have bad breath, but she still didn't really want to have to take the scenario much further than some dancing! And, not missing the DVD was important

"Not missing you now," he grinned. "Come on, no one's around... let's get to know each other a bit better." He lurched forward and found her mouth with his. She was so damned fuckable...

Unable to stand the images in his mind, Spike walked outside to prove himself wrong. Only he wasn't wrong. "Stop that, you gi... hands off her. You know better."

"Alright... hands are off, see. No need to write us up and send us on our way," he gave Dawn a squeeze, "back inside with the chaperones?"

"Sure, I'll be right behind you," she replied, staring at Spike and shooing the boy inside. He didn’t want to go at first, so she blew him a kiss and said, “I’ll be right there.” Once he was gone, she turned her eyes back to Spike, furious. "Hypocrite much? You wanted this."

Heat entered Spike's eyes, cooling only slightly as the boy went inside. "Wanted..." he shook his head. "Go inside... go inside Dawn, before I..." his hands flexed.

From inside the dining hall, decorated and filled with dancing students, the music changed. It only took seconds before shrieks of laughter and screams of horror filled the room. Dawn was pretty sure she knew who was screaming, and a wicked glint of satisfaction appeared in her eyes. "Score one for me," she murmured, smiling.

Her head turned back to Spike. "Before you what," she inquired courteously. "Unless I miss my guess, they're kinda distracted in there right about now, so share."

His gaze swept over her... so much smooth skin... so little material... so much touching of the wrong men. He didn't know how he'd stood it. How he'd watched as they groped her. They didn't know her ... not like him. They didn't care. They didn't want her, quite like him.

He took a step toward her, bringing his mouth down over hers at the same time he swept a hand behind her back and dragged her close. His kiss was hard... jealous... possessive, as he molded her to him, so close that he knew every imprint of her body.

Dawn parted her lips eagerly for Spike, welcoming his hard, drugging kiss with lips and tongue, her passion flaring immediately into a fierce burning for him, his hands, his mouth, everything about him. And his everything was just as eager, she realized with a tiny portion of her mind that was ecstatic.

Wrong place. Wrong time. Always wrong, wrong, wrong. But she felt right in his arms, she tasted right, tasted like she was his. Not theirs... He wanted to wipe those boys from her memory and his, wanted her to remember his hands on her... not theirs. He skimmed his palm over her warm belly, felt her quiver.... felt desire flooding his system. It was madness. Any moment now, someone would come out to investigate.

Breaking the kiss, he rubbed his thumb over her mouth. "Don't ever do that to me again. Not ever."

She pulled his thumb into her mouth, sucking gently on it, her lips puckering around the digit. The tip of her tongue caressed the ball of his thumb, and then she let it slip from her mouth, wet and shining. Valiantly, she refrained from anything resembling an 'I told you so,' and just smiled up at him, more from her eyes than her lips.

He groaned. "Clearly, re-negotiations are in order. I'll tell you the terms later... when I can think. Go inside, I'll follow," he said, trying to catch his breath.

Dawn nodded, but said, "Come in now. You don't want to miss this." At his confused look, she simply added, "payback," and strolled back inside the darkened room to see Giselle, larger than life and far more naked, involved in a passionate clutch with another tennis player. It had been Dawn's favorite scene, when she'd previewed the spycam footage.

Spike walked a few feet behind her, but was riveted by the events unfolding on the screen. He wondered why the feed was being allowed to proceed when he saw there was a bit of a fight developing near the VJ... some students stopping others and the teachers from taking the DVD out. Of course he could get it from them in an instant... but the glee in Dawn's face had him standing stock still. He did refrain from laughing though, knowing he was still under scrutiny.

Dawn let her glance work its way through the crowd, and pasted a horrified expression over her very real, very strong feelings of vindication. Bitches got what they deserved, and then some, she thought with satisfaction. Never mess with a Summers woman. You'll just get beaten down.

Yes, the whole team was there. And looking very upset... except for the girl who'd been with Giselle in the footage. She looked every bit as vindicated as Dawn felt. Well, at least something good would come out of this mess. And out of the closet, unless Dawn missed her guess.

She glanced down at the tiny bodice watch pinned to her short belly-dancer top. Eleven. Patrol at midnight. She should probably go and change. Even as she thought it, the teachers managed to push the students back, and get a hold of the DVD player, stopping the offending disc cold. Dawn sighed inwardly. All good things must come to an end. She gave herself a virtual pat on the back for having spirited all of her equipment back into Watcher custody two days since, along with numerous time-lapse videos of 'ghosts' in the school hallways.

* * *

Dawn slid smoothly around the corner of old bricks, her black turtleneck and jeans making her feel like a vampire-slaying Ninja. The image made her almost giggle, though she managed to suppress it. Looking back, she motioned the other two in her team to come up, and when they had, she proceeded forward into the alley. She had point because she had actual experience with vampires. It was quite the change to be the knowledgeable one, as compared to the Scoobies!

Three watchers in training... three seasoned watchers following closely behind, trading money as "their trainee" dusted yet another vampire. It was a serious matter this, the counting of bodies dropping, it counted toward the experience points of the trainees.

Spike had moved ahead and now stood on a fire escape, smirking as Dawn lead the others as surely as if she were a full fledged watcher. She could drive him up the wall, but when it came to this... she was all business.

This part of London made the best training ground. The vampires were as thick as thieves around here, and it was difficult to give them a miss.

Dawn leaned close to her companions. "This alley runs behind some clubs," she whispered. "Prime hunting territory for vamps... and for us. They'll try to tempt someone out for some 'snogging' or whatever, then grab dinner to go. And? They're pissy when they're hungry. Also likely to be overconfident," she added. "Come on."

Straightening up and tucking her stake at the small of her back, instead of ready in her hand, she strolled into the alleyway, the other two junior Watchers behind her a bit.

Trust her to take them right into the mouth of the action. Spike motioned the other watchers, then started down the ladder. He didn't want to be caught up there if the teens were hit with a bigger bad than they expected.

Dawn sauntered along the alleyway, every nerve on edge. She wasn't altogether sure that Alec and Georges were as reliable as she could hope for in facing off more than one vamp at a time, but she knew Spike had her back. Somewhere, he'd be close, and watching over her. It was a wonderful feeling, as warming –in a different way— as the searing passion they felt for one another. And no more damned nonsense about dating boys her own age, either? She smiled. It was a gooood night!

Until she rounded a trash bin to find not one, not two, but three bumpy headed predators sucking the life out of a skinny little Goth girl. She didn't bother with warning them, but whipped the stake out and lunged immediately. Unfortunately, vamp senses had her target turning just as she attacked, and the stake meant for his heart smacked into a lung instead. "Shit," she gasped, and danced backward, grabbing for another stake.

"Oi! Look, mates! We got delivery now!" He grinned at her, rotting blood in the creases between his teeth. "'Allo, lovey."

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Okay, you guys are just as cheesy here as you are in the USA. Losers."

At one time, he'd been like that. She'd seen him like that. How she could still like him was beyond Spike. And now she was playing with the vamps. He wanted to shout 'stop talking, start slaying,' but didn't want to alert the vampires.

Making herself the center of attention had accomplished two good things, and one bad thing. They'd dropped the girl, who hopefully was still breathing. And they'd put their backs to her backup, also excellent. But the three vamps also had Dawn backing up, and the alley just wasn't all that wide. Just as her shoulders scraped the bricks, and she felt like getting a serious fear on, Alec and Georges stepped up to bat, each one neatly dusting a vamp. Cool! But Dawn let the scream rip anyway, so that fang-face number three would clutch at his oversensitive ears and she could dust him, making it a hat trick.

Worked like a charm, too, and she grinned as she spat out dust. "Fledges. No sense of self-preservation," she deadpanned in a Clancy Brown-Kurgen imitation. Nobody laughed. Dawn pouted. Xander would so have gotten the Highlander reference!

"Next time... warn us to bring ear plugs," Spike said, clapping her on the back. Maybe his hand lingered a bit longer than it should, but no one noticed.

She leaned back into his touch, subtly, and felt just a bit colder when his hand was gone. "I'll do that," she said. "But I think they only buy it when it's a girl doing the screaming. Sexist little vamps," she smirked. "So, time for the debriefing? Group critique or solo?" Man, she was just humming with excitement! Stalking, killing vamps... no wonder Buffy got off on it! Dawn slanted a glance at Spike. No wonder, indeed.

"I want food," one of the other trainees announced. "Debrief at Wolfies."

"No food for us, I've got an early morn. I'll debrief Steve on the way back," another watcher announced, as he and his trainee walked off.

"Up to you," Spike said, neither wanting to be with her in a room full of noise nor wanting to be completely alone with her.

Dawn looked at Spike, eyes narrowing. "Let's walk it off," she suggested. "I soo couldn't eat right now, and sitting down is out of the question. I'm ready to burst, I'm so pumped!"

"There you have it, mates." Shoving his hands into his pockets, Spike started to stroll away with her. "You don't look enough to your left. It's your weakness," he announced.

Dawn fell into step beside him, and to the right. “Okay,” she said, looking left at him, and admiring the way the tight black clothes that were de rigeur for hunting vampires in this nest of Watchers emphasized every lean and powerful muscle of his body. “I can look left more.”

Fully aware of her scrutiny, he forced himself to look straight ahead. Away from temptation. "Didn't check to make sure your mates understood your signals." If his words were clipped, his voice strained, it had nothing to do with how she'd led the team... she'd done well.

"At least you've got company in something," she muttered, a bit exasperated. "I'll work on that," she said, more clearly, synching her steps to his and 'accidentally' walking closely enough to feel the heat from his body. God, her nerves were humming... and they weren't the only things! Did brushing close to death –and if staking vamps didn’t qualify, nothing did!—get everyone so damned horny, or was she just a freak?

He glanced at her then. Big mistake. Big, big mistake. His body instantly reacted to her closeness, to the way her dark clothes clung to every curve of her body. "Oh, I think you're getting my signals loud and clear."

"Even the ones you don't want to be sending," she retorted, nimbly stepping in front of him and looking up into those gorgeous laser-bright eyes. "Spike—" she started, unsure of how exactly to say it, but willing to try anyhow. "Don't... please don't push me away again. Waiting is going to make us both crazy! We can, I don't know, find somewhere away from school, away from the Watchers. But I can't pretend to be interested in those stupid ham-handed boys when I know you want me as much as I want you!"

"Even the ones I don't want to be sending," he agreed, almost groaning when she put into words exactly what he wanted.

Want you. Her whispered words echoed off the walls of the alley... made his gut clench hard.

He broke then... or the dams holding back his deepest desires broke. He took two steps, walking her backwards toward the wall, his body nudging her back. He didn't even hide how aroused he was, or mask the desire in his eyes. He needed her; she needed him. It should be simple.

"This isn't the place," he apologized, even as slid his knee between her legs, and pressed her up against the wall. "Or the time..."

His blood pulsed to his temples... to his groin. She ignited a heat in him that he was sure he'd never felt... would never feel with someone else. "You make me forget..." he rasped, aching, wanting.

"Oh, God," Dawn groaned, flashing into writhing need at his touch and the desperation in his voice. She threaded her fingers into his hair and fisted them. "Finally," she whimpered, and fastened her mouth to his with all the passionate greed he made her feel, every minute they were together.

He kissed her back, hot, hard, wet... demanding everything she could give him. It was a kiss of desperation, of defeat... he knew he was lost, but yet refused to give any quarter. Their breaths mingled, their panting grew louder. He wanted her, he wanted her so bad, it burned all other thoughts from his mind.

He drew her up hard against him, lifted her up. "Put your legs around me," he said, flinching as his arousal collided against her core.

More than willing, Dawn wrapped her long legs around his lean hips, letting Spike take all of her weight. The brush of his erection against her made her moan, and she could feel heat coiling low in her belly even as the muscles there jerked in sympathy with his flinch. Her body strained to be nearer, and slippery wetness soaked her panties. "Spike," she gasped, and dug her fingers into his solid back.

"Right here, pet, right here," he ground his hips into her. She was so hot... so inviting, he wanted to fuck her... he wanted to get rid of everything that separated them. Hand trembling, he swept it between them and freed himself. "Feel me... feel how I want you," he rasped, thrusting against her, rubbing the full thickness of his cock where she needed him. Oh God... he could feel her spasm against him. Grinding his teeth, he fought for his sanity.

"Yesss," she hissed on a strained whisper, curling her hips deeper into him, feeling her body soften and heat in a hungry welcome to the increased pressure, the grinding hunger they both felt. She bit his shoulder, starving for the taste of his skin, nipping and licking through the tight black tee-shirt he wore. "Let me—" she started, breathlessly tugging at the fastening of her pants with one clumsy hand, only to have it captured by his and pinned to the bricks above her.

He took a few calming breaths. "No... we're re-negotiating, not ... fuck..." he could barely think straight. He kissed her again, then broke the kiss. "You're not seeing any pimply school boys. There's a you and a me... but... we're going slow. Not going beyond what we've done, not until you're... it's only two years." He bit his lip as he thrust against her again, groaning as her firm legs clamped tighter around his waist, milking him for all he had.

Whimpering in sheer wanton lust, Dawn struggled to understand what Spike was saying, but what he was doing... Oh, God! It felt so amazing! "Wh-what? Wait?" She locked her ankles behind him, grinding desperately against his hot hard body. "No, please..." she begged, hardly aware of what she was saying.

"This is good enough... it has to be," he groaned, now fucking her hard. Clothes, or no clothes, they were going to find release together... and that was what mattered.

The pressure built. "Come on pet, come with me, come on," he pumped harder, faster, he squeezed her breast even as he felt her teeth dig into his shoulder. He was no stranger to the fact a bit of pain added intensity, but how had she known?

Dawn cried out and arched her back, thrusting her breast into his touch, her hips into his, the bricks scraping her even through her sweater. It did't even hurt. "Oh, God, yes," she panted out, every muscle tightening as he thrust harder, slamming her into the wall, his cock against her with an intoxicating violence. A delectable trembling began deep inside her, crashing along her body as it grew more fierce, more desperate and needy. "God, Spike, please—. Spike... I— I—"

The hunger in her voice was all that he needed to hear. "I'm here luv... I've got what you need." He slammed against her, ground his hips, then slammed again, each time getting closer to the white hot light. "That's it... fuck me," he whispered harshly against her ear as they came hard. "That's it..." he stroked her hair and helped her ride him until the last remnants of her orgasm faded away.

Dawn drew breath after deep shuddering breath until she could speak, then pressed her lips to his, wordless message of love. "That was... something else," she sighed, replete and smiling. "But I vote for naked next time."

"I vote for a spanking the next time," he shot back. He wished... he wished they could shower together. That they could be together. Soon... one day.

Dawn's eyebrows shot up. "Spanking huh," she mused. "Guess that means the short skirts were doing their job after all." She smirked at him, feeling wonderful.

"What have I got myself into?" He helped her with her clothes, as best he could. "Let's get you home."

She paused in readjusting her sweater. "This is soo not going to work," she said, and pulled it off before putting it back on inside out, better hiding the undeniable evidence of what they'd been doing. Her nipples pebbled in the October air. "Kinda cold out here," she giggled unrepentantly. "And home is good, if by ‘home’ you mean a hotel room with a big bed with you in it. Naked." she stated again, firmly.

"It's a date. In two years. Don't be late." He swept her into his arms and gave her a hug. "And don't be difficult, eh? Maybe have a few dreams about me... keep you warm."

Dawn glared even as she wrapped her arms around him and held on tight. "Two years ‘til we're official," she argued. "But there's not a chance in any of the hell dimensions that I'm actually waiting that long. We're smart. We'll figure out something," she finished spiritedly.

"Tell you what," he dragged her along. "You can have the hotel room... and one of us can be naked. You choose which," he grinned in triumph.

She licked her lips. "You. Definitely... you."


(A/N: Yay - I'm back. So, watcha think of the new installment? Please let us know!)