It was midnight when they left the bar, arms wrapped around each other's waist. Spike had consumed three times as much alcohol as Buffy, but she was much more drunk. As he half carried her down the street, she giggled.
"Wooo, that shaquilla sure packs a wallop."
"Tequila."
"Thass what I said. Whoa, look at the stop light. Something really wrong there. All blurry."
"I think that's your vision, pet."
Buffy pulled away from him and staggered towards the light post. "Nope, still blurry."
Spike caught her before she stumbled into the street. Scooping her into his arms, he slung her over his shoulder, groaning. "For such a petite thing, you sure do weigh a lot."
She kicked him in the stomach and growled. "All the shaquilla."
Rolling his eyes, Spike continued down the street.
"I really liked that last song, Shpike. Wha was it again?"
"The Grand Illusion by Styx."
"Pick up sticks?"
"No, like the river."
"Gran' Illushion...Thass what life is, Shpike. One big ol' illushion...and a kinda blurry one." She giggled, then began to caress his ass. "You know what? You got a great ass. All hard and muscley an' tight, tight buns, buns o' steel."
"Slayer," Spike growled and jogged her on his shoulder.
Buffy moaned and clutched his ass tighter. "Gonna make me barf."
"Maybe I overdid it on the getting her drunk part of the evening," Spike muttered as he tried to walk carefully.
They made it into her trailer without further incident. As he hit the light switch, Spike set her on her feet and stepped back. Buffy turned green and bolted for the bathroom.
"Definitely overdid it." Flopping on the couch, Spike lit a cigarette and watched the smoke swirl up to the ceiling.
*****
Slowly dragging her trembling body up the counter from her slumped, kneeling position, Buffy stared into the space where the mirror used to be. Flushing the toilet, she winced at the noise, then scrabbled in the medicine cabinet for some tylenol.
As she tipped her head back to swallow the tablets, everything went swirly again and she bent over, panting. "Oh shit," she moaned, closing her eyes against the waves of dizziness.
After a few minutes, she carefully opened her eyes. The room didn't spin very quickly, which she took as a good sign. Finding her toothbrush, she got rid of the nasty taste in her mouth, then patted a damp cloth on her face.
Feeling slightly better, Buffy slowly, carefully returned to the living room.
"Feeling better, pet?" Spike asked.
"Peachy," she replied through gritted teeth. Carefully she sat down on the couch, trying not to make anything bounce, muttering, "Damn vampire, damn vampire ability to drink and not barf..."
Spike chuckled and put out his cigarette. "Have I ever mentioned how amusing you are?"
If looks could kill, he'd have been a crispy critter from the glare aimed his way.
"And lovely, quite lovely. The hint of green in your cheeks brings out the color of your eyes."
"Keep it up, Spike," she whispered hoarsely. "Keep on goading me, that's right."
He laughed some more and watched her turn from green to red. "I told you that four glasses were enough."
"You could have stopped pouring the damn stuff."
"You threatened to stake me right there in the bar."
Buffy squinted as she tried to remember. A vague memory flashed in front of her glazed eyes. "Oh...right...and you laughed at me."
"I haven't laughed like this in weeks...and I bet neither have you," he replied softly.
"Is that sweet talk?" she asked suspiciously.
Spike grinned. "Is it working?"
Buffy thought about it for a minute, then sighed and staggered to her feet. "If you want a goodbye fuck, you better come get it now before I pass out."
The room spun and she swayed, then stumbled towards the hall really hoping she wouldn't run into the wall that kept moving before her eyes.
Her bedroom was dark and quiet. Two more steps and she fell face first onto the bed, snoring.
Spike strolled into the bedroom and turned on the bedside lamp. Grinning at the sound of snoring, he began to pull off his clothes, tossing them negligently on the floor. Naked, he stretched. He wasn't really tired, but he'd fed earlier in the evening and he couldn't think of anything better to do then wait for the slayer to wake up.
Crouching at her feet, he slid her sandals off, tossing them over his shoulder, then ran his hands up her smooth calves and thighs, feeling the tight muscles. Rolling the limp girl onto her back, Spike pulled her shorts and panties off, then lifted her enough to wriggle her out of her tank top.
Laying down on the bed, he tugged Buffy into his arms, pillowing her head on his shoulder.
*****
Near dawn, Buffy woke with a groan. Her head hurt, though the pain was no longer blinding. As she blinked her eyes open, the room swam for a moment, then settled down.
Realizing she was laying half on top of something cold and hard, Buffy looked down and saw Spike's body. His naked body. Glancing up, she saw him looking at her.
"I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever wake up, Slayer."
Buffy's eyes narrowed as scattered memories of the previous night came back. "You got me drunk."
"You helped," he replied tolerantly.
"I barfed."
"Without my help."
"Did we...?" She blushed hotly as she realized she couldn't remember.
"I may be a demon, but I do have limits, luv. I prefer my bedmates to be non-corpse like."
"Uh huh. Is that why you were with Drusilla for over a hundred years?"
Spike grinned and ran his hand through her hair. "That's the bitchy slayer I love...well, in a 'love to fuck and fight with' way," he hastily qualified.
"Uh huh." Yawning and groaning, she struggled into a sitting position, then squirmed. "Um, I'll be back in a sec." Flushing, she hurried to the bathroom.
In complete admiration, Spike watched her ass jiggle.
When she returned, she quickly scrambled under the sheet.
"Buffy, I HAVE seen you naked, you know."
"I know," she mumbled, trying not to focus her eyes on his own nudity. "But...we haven't done it yet...tonight, I mean, and it's weird."
"Well, how about we remedy that?" Grabbing the sheet, Spike tugged it away from her breasts and urged her onto her back, leering over her. Leaning down, he covered her mouth with his, kissing her deeply.
Sighing in sudden pleasure, Buffy twined her arms around his neck and pulled him on top of her. Arching her back, she pressed her breasts against his chest, rubbing her nipples until they began to harden and send bolts of lust through her.
Kissing her deeply, Spike slid his under the sheet, shoving it down farther as he caressed the smooth skin of her stomach and hips. Rolling onto his side, he pulled her with him, his hands cupping her ass, kneading gently.
Gasping for breath, Buffy pulled her mouth free, then hungrily ran her lips over his cheeks and jaw, around to his ear. A hot, damp feeling swelled between her thighs and she licked the sensitive spot behind his ear, catching the lobe between her teeth, before moving on.
Groaning in pleasure as she sucked on his Adam's apple, Spike felt his cock stir to life and pulled her closer, his hands running over her, kneading and caressing. One of her legs wrapped around his waist and she rubbed against his erection, whimpering in growing desire.
Sliding farther down his body, placing nipping kisses on every bit of flesh she could reach, Buffy rolled Spike onto his back. As she tongued his navel, making him grunt lustily, her hand slid between his thighs to caress his staff.
"Buffy..."
"Shh." As she raised her head, another wave of dizziness hit her and Buffy smiled, still a little drunk. "I've never done this before," she mumbled as she lowered her lips over his penis, sucking it inside her hot mouth.
"Shit pet," Spike hissed, his hips bucking against her as she sucked him like a popsicle.
"Ummmm, cold," she murmured in delight before resuming her head bobbing.
"Are you sure you've never done this?" he gasped, his eyes nearly crossing at the sensations running through his hard flesh.
Lifting her head, Buffy grinned and straddled his thighs. Leaning forward, she pressed her mouth to his, her tongue searching for his. Grunting in lust, Spike caught her breasts as they swayed above his chest. His fingers twisted her pebbled nipples until she moaned against his lips and squirmed.
Bucking his hips against her, Spike groaned as he felt her wetness soaking into his straining erection. One hand remaining on her breast, the other headed south and delved between her trembling legs, brushing past the damp curls to find her hot, swollen flesh.
Buffy jerked, then pressed against his fingers. "Yes, please," she begged, then buried her mouth in his neck as her pelvis ground down on him.
Grabbing her hips, Spike lifted her and impaled her on his cock, grunting harshly.
Splaying her hands on his chest, Buffy whimpered in lust and began to move on him, slowly at first, then quicker as she picked up the instinctive rhythm. Spike's hands guided her for a few minutes, then reached up to fondle her swaying breasts.
Panting as her desire grew, Buffy threw her head back, then winced as the room spun. Digging her fingernails into Spike's chest, she closed her eyes and moved faster, grinding her clitoris against his hard pubic bone on each down stroke.
Suddenly, Spike rolled them, coming over her smoothly, thrusting hard and fast into her grasping channel. Groaning his name, Buffy arched up and wrapped her legs around his churning hips, as her hands clutched his arms.
Their lips met in ferocious need and they bit and sucked as their flesh slapped together and the bed banged against the wall.
Slamming her lithe body against his, Buffy keened and exploded into orgasm, her body shuddering as release flooded her.
Feeling her clenching around him, Spike hissed and let himself go, driving for his own climax as she whimpered beneath him, her heels drumming against his ass.
Growling, he came, thrusting hard and deep before collapsing on top of her, his head in the crook of her neck.
Buffy slowly relaxed, her legs falling away from him, her hands slipping from his arms, as her body calmed down and her breathing evened out. Her head still swam, but the warm glow deep inside her was worth the annoying dizziness.
Groaning in pleasure, Spike moved off her. As he flopped on his back, Buffy curled up against him, closing her eyes.
"That was nice," she mumbled sleepily.
"Very nice," he answered softly, looking down into her peaceful face. A bloody sight better than nice. Chuckling softly at his own thoughts, Spike reached down to pull the sheet over them and turned off the lamp.
Closing his eyes, he gently rubbed her shoulder and back as he listened to her drift to sleep. As the sun began to rise behind the thick, dark curtains, he pulled her closer and joined her in slumber.