Author's Note: Mucho NC-17 here, folks. So all you kiddies skeedattle on home. And thanks so much to everybody who's managed to get me feedback on this story. This chapter is dedicated to those of you that e-mailed while the review system was down and kept me inspired!

Previously: The nerdy trio accidently sent 2nd season Spike forward in time to 6th season Sunnydale. He quickly discovers that things aren't quite the same in this time when Buffy and her Spike capture him an tie him up. He also gets to observe Buffy's kick-him-in-the-face-and-run-away-virtue-fluttering tendencies and agrees to help future Spike by giving Buffy an A-B comparrison if he unchains him... Oh, what could those crafty Spikes possibly be up to? ~_^

Buffy trudged her way up the stairs. Her first day at the Doublemeat Palace had been anything but fun… Hideous costume, bland customers, and filthy grease… The smell still clung to her, and she decided she couldn’t put up with it a second longer.

She stripped the instant she got into the bathroom, scattering her clothes about the floor, and eagerly stepped under the hot spray. The steamy water pounded over her stiff muscles, releasing the tension that had gathered there. She let out a contented sigh.

She scrubbed at her hair a good three times just to be sure she got all the doublemeat sludge out before soaping up a sponge and cleaning her entire body from head to toe. Tingles of life were returning to her limbs now, reminding her that there were things beyond her crappy new job.

She stood under the water for several long minutes, rinsing herself clean and…well, stalling.

Because the instant she got out of the shower, her slaying duties started, and then she had to worry about not one, but two, gorgeous oh-so-tempting vampires. She still couldn’t believe she’d almost kissed the evil Spike. Kissing the good one was bad enough, but…

But he had been so beautiful.

One hand gently rubbed over her breasts – just rinsing, she assured herself – before it lightly began to finger one nipple. It was too hot, she decided, and she turned the water down so that it was cool…just like his skin…

Her clit was practically aching by now. She figured one quick twist couldn’t hurt things. It didn’t. In fact, it felt sooo good. Her thumb flicked the hard nub of flesh back and forth while her other hand continued to massage her swollen breasts.

She leaned her forehead against the cold tile of the shower wall and closed her eyes. It was hard and slick with water, and she could imagine that it was a strong alabaster chest…that the water-cooled finger that was now tracing her opening was his…that it was him that was now inside of her…

She moaned and began to thrust up and down on two of her fingers. Soon a third joined it, stretching her and filling her…but not enough. It was never enough. Only one thing could truly satisfy her.

You have to go see him anyway, her sex drive insisted. You might as well kill two birds with one stone…

“Yes!” Buffy cried out as her hand finally succeeded in stimulating a small orgasm from her. “Have to see him anyway…” she repeated.

In record time, she’d re-washed the certain regions of her anatomy that needed it, dried her hair, and slipped into an appropriate slaying costume… OK, so maybe the skirt was a bit too short and tight for high kicks…and her leather boots had heels so high it would be practically impossible to run…and she was practically falling out of the front of her blouse… She was confident that a certain sexy blond vampire wouldn’t have any objections to her wardrobe, though.

She eagerly made her way down the stairs, already playing possible scenarios for the evening through her mind and wondering if it was at all possible to carry whipped cream with her while slaying without giving herself horribly away…

And ran straight into Dawn in the kitchen.

“Woah!” Dawn’s eyes widened at her sister’s outfit. “Hot date?” she inquired.

Buffy’s face turned beet red. “Oh, no,” she insisted. “Just slaying…”

“Then why are you…?” Dawn gesticulated at the outfit.

“Well, I’m…bait tonight!” Buffy sighed aloud in relief when she found a reasonable excuse. “Y’know, luring horny vamps out of the Bronze.”

“Uh-huh.” Dawn looked anything but convinced. However, she dropped the subject and turned back to her sundae.

Buffy eyed the chocolate-covered mass with suspicion. “That’s not your dinner, is it?” she demanded in a very maternal way.

Dawn rolled her eyes. “No,” she said in the world’s best example of The Sullen Teenager Voice, “this is dessert, duh…” At that moment she took a big spoonful of vanilla ice cream and hot fudge and swallowed it whole, some of the ice cream escaping the side of her mouth and trickling down her cheek.

“Ugh,” Buffy said, “what, were you raised in a barn? You never heard of a napkin?”

Dawn wiped away the ice cream with guilty pleasure. “You want some?” she asked.

“No thanks,” Buffy said. “Do you have any idea how bad that is for you?”

“But it tastes sooo good,” Dawn retorted. “You know what the best part is?”

“What?”

“The temperature,” Dawn sighed as she took another bite. “The way the hot and cold blend together on your tongue. You taste first one and then the other, and pretty soon they’ve both mixed together and it’s an entirely new flavor, better than either were separately, all smooth and creamy…”

Buffy was drooling. And her thoughts were on anything but ice cream.

“Sure you don’t want to get some?” Dawn asked.

“Yes, yes, I do,” Buffy said numbly and walked right out the door.

Dawn shook her head in confusion. “What’s up with her?” she wondered before returning to the innocent pastime of enjoying her ice cream.

“Aha!” Andrew exclaimed in delight.

“What?” Jonathan ran over. “Did you find the counterspell?”

“Nope,” Andrew said proudly, “but I did manage to download the entire Star Wars porn library for free!”

“You found a way in the back door?” Warren asked excitedly.

“Oh yeah,” Andrew said enthusiastically. “It was simple really. I just—”

“Guys!” Jonathan interrupted them. “Can we get back to more important matters?”

“Yeah,” Warren smacked Andrew upside the head. “Make with the nude Queen Amidala.”

“But I wanted to see Princess Leia first,” Andrew whined.

“Amidala now,” Warren ordered him. “Leia later.”

“Fine,” Andrew huffed.

“But, guys!” Jonathan protested. “What about…” the picture appeared on the screen “…nude Queen Amidala…”

“Gentlemen,” Warren said, their most important task clear, “to the printer!”

Buffy made her way quickly to Sunnydale Cemetery, her high-heeled boots clicking on the pavement behind her. There was absolutely no doubt in her mind what she wanted at that moment:

“…hot and cold blend together on your tongue.”

“…all smooth and creamy…”

If she had put on any panties, they would have been drenched.

“Slayer’s gotta get some,” she whispered to herself, making her way confidently over to the familiar crypt.

“Lookin’ for me, pet?” a voice suddenly broke the still of the cemetery.

Buffy spun about to see Spike lounging against a nearby tombstone, lit cigarette dangling from his lips.

Jump him! Now! Her mind screamed.

She walked over to him, placing one leather boot in front of the other, swaying her hips suggestively.

“All dressed up, I see,” Spike continued to smoke, perusing her leisurely. “My counterpart should appreciate it…”

“You’re—”

“The Big Bad Spike,” he gave her an evil leer. “Up for a good tussle, Slayer?”

Bad Spike, her rational mind said. Must overpower, capture, take back to lair, and tie up. Must not fuck into the ground with every bit of strength I have. Must fight, must not kiss, must not… Ach! What are you doing?!

Her saunter had stopped when he had announced his identity, but now it began anew. “ ‘Big Bad’, huh?” she asked as she came to a stop right in front of him. “Just how big,” one finger traced down the center of his chest, “and how bad?” She hiked up her skirt so that she could straddle his lap.

“Guess that’s a ‘yes’ to my question then?” he raised one scarred eyebrow at her curiously. “I must say, Slayer, you’ve got it pretty bad to—”

“God, don’t you know how to shut up?!” she cut him off. “Just keep your mouth shut and fuck me!”

With that, she caught his lips with hers, her fingers sliding around his neck and up into his hair. He responded in full, grinding her hips down onto his erection and plunging his tongue deep into her mouth.

“Cor,” he moaned, “you’re even hotter than he said…”

Buffy whimpered as he caught her by the waist and lifted her off of him. “Please…” she begged. “I need—”

The breath was abruptly knocked from her lungs when he spun her around and threw her into the gravestone he had been sitting on stomach first. Before she even had time to react, he’d caught her hands behind her and pinned them at the small of her back.

“Spike?” she asked warily from her position bent over the cold stone slab.

“It’s your turn to shut up now, Slayer,” he hissed.

For one second she was confident that he was going to kill her. Panic entered her for a second before she heard a sound that set her body ablaze all over again. It was the sweetest sound in the world at the moment: the sound of his zipper being undone.

She squirmed eagerly as he roughly tugged her skirt up to around her waist, and then… Oh wonderful relief! He thrust into her hard and deep, his eyelids squeezing shut as her slick passage molded to his contours.

“Oh Christ, Slayer!” he moaned aloud, pumping in and out of her as fast and hard as he could.

“Yes! Spike!” she cried out, grinding her own hips back to meet his. It was rather awkward from her position, but she managed just fine. “More! Deeper! Faster! Please!”

“So good! So hot! Can’t take much more! You’re— Oh god!” he shouted as her Slayer muscles clenched him for the first time.

Her clit was grinding against the stone with his every thrust now, sending her screaming over the edge. “Oh god, Spike!” she called out his name before the pleasure finally overcame her, and the world went black.

He let out a feral roar when her internal muscles milked him fast and furious, and he came harder than he had ever remembered.

“Oh god, luv,” he whimpered, collapsing on top of her and still seeing stars.

It seemed like hours later that he was finally able to lift himself off of her leather-clad body. He noticed with an amused and satisfied smirk that she was still passed out from her orgasm.

“’m startin’ to see what he sees in you, pet,” he informed her unconscious back before reluctantly pulling out of her. His cock was twitching slightly, in danger of springing back to life, and he tucked it back into his pants before he was tempted to have another go.

He debated leaving her like that, draped over the grave with her hot, wet hole open and available to anybody who happened to walk by and wanted to partake… But, no, his future self wanted to lay claim to her, and it would be counterproductive to interfere with his own future wishes. He didn’t take a taste of her neck for the same reason.

Instead, he lowered her skirt until it covered up the traces of their combined juices and caught her up in his arms. He marveled for an instant that such a tiny human could have such strength, such heat… He shook the thought from his head and settled her neatly down in front of the gravestone. She should awaken soon.

And with one parting kiss, he vanished into the night…

“See, I told you Carrie Fisher ruled supreme!” Andrew said triumphantly.

“I still say those were fake,” Jonathan insisted.

“They just stuck Pamela Lee’s body on Carrie Fisher’s head,” Warren agreed. “Natalie Portman is still the best.”

“I don’t believe this!” Andrew exclaimed. “Episode One was sacrilege!”

“True,” Warren agreed, “but that doesn’t detract from how hot Natalie Portman is.”

Andrew looked to Jonathan for support.

“Sorry, man, he’s right,” Jonathan shook his head at Andrew. “Natalie Portman is still the Star Wars goddess.”

“Fine!” Andrew sighed. “I’m sick of fighting about it. But we still keep the Leia pictures.”

“Of course!” Jonathan and Warren exclaimed simultaneously, horrified at the notion of losing any of their precious porn collection.

“So, now that that’s settled,” Warren rubbed his hands together, “it’s back to taking over the world.”

“So…um, what were we doing?” Andrew asked.

“Yeah,” Jonathan said, “I know it was something important…”

“But what?”

Buffy groaned and stretched as she finally came to. Every cell of her body felt warm and content at that moment. She sleepily opened her eyes and giggled at the name on the gravestone beside her.

Somehow she thought that Sister Monica DeVries would not approve of the activities that had taken place on her memorial tonight.

Oh god!

The giddiness left her in an instant. She had just fucked Spike. Not good, tender, loving Spike, but evil, homicidal, monster Spike. She clenched at the ground and gasped for breath, her mind reeling from the concept.

She hadn’t even put up a fight. She’d just lain down and enjoyed herself while her archenemy had his way with her.

What was she supposed to do now? There was no way he wouldn’t torment her past self with that fact, and she was pretty sure that she wouldn’t be able to take it back in his time.

That was something to worry about later. Now was the time to worry about her present self.

She’d just fucked a demon.

An evil, soulless, murderous demon.

He was probably out there killing someone right now.

And she’d enjoyed herself.

Every last second of it.

“Well?” 2002-Spike grimaced as his past self entered his crypt reeking of the Slayer’s juices.

“Everything went accordin’ to plan,” 1997-Spike said, taking his silver lighter from his duster pocket and lighting up his cigarette. He breathed out a long, steady stream of smoke.

“You didn’t have any difficulties?” 2002-Spike asked.

“None at all.”

“And she knew it was you?”

“’Course, she knew it me,” 1997-Spike said irritably. “Wouldn’t’ve worked if she didn’t now, would it?”

“I should’ve been the one to do it,” 2002-Spike said soberly. “Could’ve pretended I was you…”

“You couldn’t an’ you know it,” his past self explained for the umpteenth time. “What she needed was a good, hard rut. No love. Your eyes would’ve given you away in an instant.”

“S’pose so,” the present vampire laid back and sighed. “She’s all right, then?”

Past-Spike rolled his eyes. “She’ll be fine…once she figures it out.”

“Which won’t be till tomorrow at the earliest.”

“So, just sit back till then, mate,” 1997-Spike advised. “Watch some telly or somethin’.”

“Easy for you to say,” 2002-Spike scowled. “You got a piece o’ Slayer action tonight while I ‘ad to sit here listenin’.”

“Yeah, lucky me,” the vampire from the past sighed and collapsed in an armchair.

“You all right, mate?” his future self asked. “You look a bit knackered.”

His companion didn’t reply for a long time.

“I want to ask a favor of you,” he finally said after a great deal of thought.

“Oh?”

“I want another go at the Slayer,” he said soberly.

His future self let out a whoop of laughter.

1997-Spike gave him a curious look. This hadn’t exactly been the reaction he’d been expecting. Maybe a punch in the face or something…

“Can’t get ‘er out of your system, huh?” 2002-Spike’s laughter abruptly stopped.

“No,” the past vampire sulked. “You got any whiskey?”

“Lots.” He tossed the nearest bottle to his companion and grabbed another for himself.

“Think this’ll last till tomorrow night?”

“It’ll last you in any case,” 2002-Spike ran his hand lightly over the bulge at the front of his jeans and moaned.

“Hey, mate, want to test out a theory?” his past self eyed his actions speculatively.

“What’s that?”

“Angelus always did say we were the best cock-sucker in the world,” 1997-Spike shrugged. “’m willing to give it a go ‘f you are.”

His future self gave him an odd look and then shrugged as well. “Why not?” he agreed. “What else ‘ve I got to do? B’sides, you’re a right attractive bloke.”

“Pictures don’t do us justice,” his past counterpart agreed. “Hell, the Slayer should’ve fallen into your lap long ago…”

“Yeah, well, guess ‘ll just have to settle for you instead…”

Ha! Now every last one of you will have the same dirty thoughts in your head that I do whenever I eat sundaes! Bwahaha! And let's see you try not to blush when your grandmother, of all people, asks what it is that you're thinking about so intently. (True story. ~_^)

Also, those of you looking for Spike/Spike slash are going to be disappointed. This is about as intense as it gets because, basically, slash just isn't my thing. Not that I have anything against slash, mind you, it just doesn't get me off, so there's no point in me trying to plod through it and boring all you readers. Anybody that's tempted to write a juicy little S/S scene has all by blessings, though! ^_^

And now, on with the continuation...