Disclaimer: Don't own 'em.

Author's Note: Naked Spiky goodness...drool...

Previously: So, yeah, Buffy's been brainwashed into being a sex-slave by this demon named Rhitias. Spike's watching over her until she's auctioned off. (Sound far-fetched? Well, don't all my stories? ^_^) Spike and Dawn are stuck waiting for this auction to occur so they can buy Buffy, get her key, and kick some demon ass. Unfortunately, Buffy's being very persistent in trying to seduce Spike, and he just barely fought temptation last night before he got her to compromise and just lie beside him for the night. And, oh yeah, they're both butt-naked...always a good combo. ~_^

Spike was in heaven. There was simply no other explanation for it.

He didn't think he'd ever woken up feeling so warm and comfortable and...surrounded.

The still-sleeping woman beside him had her arms wrapped firmly around his chest, her head pillowed against the hollow of his throat, her hot, wet breaths tickling the sensitive skin there. Her bare thigh was wrapped around his waist, pulling his hips into her tight embrace as well.

Spike closed his eyes for a minute and memorized this moment. The shallow rise and fall of her chest, her blood thumping in time with her heart just beneath that glorious golden skin, the smell of vanilla and jasmine and arousal and him that surrounded her...

And then she stirred beside him and slowly awoke.

"Would you like me to tend to your needs, Master?" she asked with wide, inquiring eyes when she noticed that his erection had returned with a vengeance.

And there went that lovely illusion.

"No thanks, luv," Spike insisted, freeing him from her soft, warm grasp before he lost control of himself and took her up on her offer. "Let's get dressed..."

He quickly found his jeans and pulled them on, the sound of his zipper closing an immense relief. Yeah, it was more than a little tight right now, but he felt more comfortable now that there was a physically barrier between him and Slave-Buffy.

She bit her lip. "I did give you pleasure, though...?" she asked hesitantly, nervously.

He spared her a small smile. "Feel real good, pet," he assured her, stretching and yawning. "Y'did great."

She beamed up at him. "All I want is to make you happy," she informed him in that overly precise diction that let him know that the real Buffy wasn't driving.

"Yeah, well, you can get dressed then," he requested, looking up from where he was tying his boots and licking his lips unconsciously at the sight of her naked glory...and in his bed, no less!

She nodded, got up, and began to walk up the stairs, all entirely naked.

"Wait a minute!" Spike caught her before she could open the basement door. "Where're you goin'?"

"To get my clothes," she explained, confused. "They're upstairs. You did want me to get dressed?"

Spike groaned. "You can't walk 'round the house like that," he informed her, leading her back downstairs and sitting her on the edge of the mattress. "Here," he thrust his T-shirt in her direction.

She eagerly slipped into it. Many men enjoyed watching women wear their clothes, after all.

Spike breathed a sigh of relief when the pair of perfect, perky little breasts was hidden beneath the black shirt. Unfortunately, she looked really damn sexy with her hair all tousled from sleep and wearing his shirt...

He turned away from her and headed upstairs, buttoning up his violet overshirt as he went. "'ll get you some proper clothes, luv," he assured her. "You jus' wait down 'ere till I get back..."

He reached forward for the knob...just as it turned and opened before his hand.

He managed several ungraceful waves of his arms before he successfully regained his balance and did not fall down the stairs.

"Klutzy much?" Dawn asked distractedly before cutting right to the point. "Spike, we've got a problem! Buffy's not in her room, and—" She glanced over Spike's shoulder and quickly found the misplaced Slayer. "—and she's in your bed," Dawn was now giving him the Evil, Accusing Stare Of Death, "wearing your shirt, and...is she naked under that?!" Demanding green eyes bored into him.

"Nibblet," he instantly went for the most soothing tone he could manage.

She wasn't buying it. She crossed her arms in front of her. "Spike?" she demanded.

"Look, kitten," he pleaded with her, "I swear it's not what it looks like!"

"I pleasured Spike last night," Buffy added helpfully from the mattress.

"Ow!" Spike complained when Dawn's slap caught him squarely on the cheek. He barely managed to grab the railing in time to avoid falling down the stairs again.

"How could you?!" Dawn raged, her cheeks flushed an angry crimson. "I thought you were different – better – than this!"

"Bit, 's not—"

"Don't call me that!" she screamed.

"Please, I—"

"No!" Dawn shrieked. "She was helpless and vulnerable, a-and you took advantage of her, and what if it'd been me?!"

Spike eyes flashed yellow. "Never," he hissed so vehemently that Dawn couldn't help to cede that one point.

"I hate you!" she screamed, though, knowing full well how painful it was to his sensitive ears. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I—"

"Buffy," Spike turned to his only hope of defense, "tell her. Tell 'er how you pleasured me last night."

"You think I want to hear—?" Dawn began, outraged.

Buffy cut her off before she could continue, however. "I came down to offer Spike orgasms, but he informed me that he didn't want any. I was worried that I wasn't pleasing him, but then he explained how just holding me gave him pleasure, so I gave him pleasure that way all night," she summarized succinctly.

Dawn blinked, turned to look at Spike, back to Buffy... "You didn't...?" she began hesitantly, her eyes pleading Spike's.

"No, Bit," he insisted.

"You didn't have sex?" Dawn demanded of Buffy, knowing that in her current state she was pretty much unable to lie.

Buffy just sat there silently.

"Answer her question," Spike ordered, once he realized what the problem was.

"We did not have sex," Buffy answered.

Dawn's shoulders sagged in relief...and then with a sob.

"Nibblet...?" Spike began in concern, but she fled from his touch, running up the stairs and crying all the way. He flinched slightly when he heard her door slam.

"She doesn't seem like a very obedient mistress," Buffy commented from the bed.

Spike let out a sigh of exasperation. "You stay 'ere," he ordered. "Don' move. 'll be back with clothes soon."

With that, he climbed upstairs, pausing only briefly to listen to the sobs coming from Dawn's room. He shook his head slightly and proceeded to Buffy's. He found a full, clean set of clothing with the speed and efficiently of someone who for several months spent way too much time digging through her underwear drawers.

When he passed Dawn's room on the way back, he could hear that she was still crying.

He quickly brought Buffy her clothes. "Get dressed in these," he said. "Leave my shirt on the bed. After that, go to the kitchen an' make yourself a bowl of cereal. You remember 'ow ta do that?"

She nodded eagerly, happy to have clear instructions to follow for once.

"Good girl," he grimaced slightly. "Eat the cereal. When you're done, wash the bowl in the sink. If 'm still not back down when you're done with that, sit down in the livin' room an' wait for me. Good it?"

"Yes, Master," she agreed.

"Good," he tossed her the clothes, "now get to it."

By the time he'd returned to Dawn's room, only soft whimpers could be heard through the door. He tried the knob; it was locked. He jangled it a few times to let her know that he wanted in – no response.

The sobs picked up volume on the other side of the door again.

"Dawn, sweetie," Spike said, leaning against the door, "let me in."

The crying continued.

"C'mon, princess," he cooed. "'S all right. Nothin' happened. There's no need to cry..."

A fresh round of bawling at the other end.

"Let me in, pet," he continued. "'ll make it all better, I promise..."

Still nothing.

He tried for stern. "Dawn!" he exclaimed. "Open this door right now, or so 'elp me 'll rip it straight off 's hinges!"

The sounds ceased on the other side.

"'ll rip your still beatin' heart out an' shove it down your throat!" he continued.

A muffled little laugh.

"An' then when Buffy gets back to normal, 'll say 's your fault I 'ad to destroy the door, an' she should see you about the bill..."

That did it. The latch clicked, and the door peeked open.

"Jeez," she sniffed, trying to roll her eyes but failing because they were so bloodshot, "overreact much?"

"Look who's talkin'," he countered, pushing past her and settling himself down on her desk chair, his legs straddling it backwards and his arms resting on the backrest. "Sit down," he gestured to the bed.

"You can't order me around," Dawn pouted, but she did as he asked anyway.

"Now," he said softly, "wha's wrong, Platelet?"

She sniffed and rubbed at her nose with a Kleenex. "I-I th-thought..." she began weakly.

"'S OK, though," he assured her. "We din't."

"Yeah," she gulped, "but I still yelled at you, and you hadn't done anything, a-and I'm a bad, awful friend," she finally finished, bursting out into tears all over again.

"Oh, Dawn," he said softly, at her side in a minute and helping to brush away her tears. "I don' blame you, Sweetness. 'Was the most obvious conclusion an' all..."

"I-I should've trusted you," she whispered softly.

"Oi, now, I don't care, so it doesn't matter," he assured her, sitting up beside her and letting her rest her head against his shoulder.

"R-Really?" Her voice sounded so weak and desperate...

"Really," he insisted. "You're all freaked out 'cause 'f what happened to you an' Sis, so 's only natural that you'll be jumpy for a bit..."

"I totally freaked out," Dawn shivered slightly.

He wrapped his arms around her in response – after all, now was one of the few times he had borrowed warmth to give. "'S OK," he insisted, "you don' 'ave to be strong all the time. 'm here for you, my Tasty Li'l Morsel..."

Dawn buried her face in his shoulder and couldn't help but giggle at the nickname. "Love you, Spike," she whispered softly against him.

"Love you, too, Dawn," he said, a bit uncomfortable with the level of emotion in the room.

She caught his cue and decided to lighten things up. "And I am so going to tell that you threatened to rip my heart out and feed it to me," she teased.

"An' how're you gonna do that with your heart shoved down your throat?" he mock-threatened her, pulling back a bit to look into her smiling eyes.

"You won't do it," she said confidently. "You're too much of a cuddly, huggy vamp."

He mock-scowled. "Don' mock me li'l girl," he growled, vamping out.

Dawn giggled in delight and proceeded to give him a quick peck on the tip of his nose, right amidst all his bumpies.

He flashed her a sheepish little fanged smile, and she impulsively hugged him again, all the while thinking how ironic it was that she felt safer with this vampire's fangs only inches away from her throat than anywhere else.

Spike pulled away first like he always did when he thought he was acting too much like a poof, and his forehead was smooth again by the time Dawn opened her eyes to look at him again.

"A-All forgiven?" she still felt the need to ask.

"All forgiven," he assured her, brushing one long, silky lock of her hair back behind her ear. "Now, let's go make sure that Big Sis 'asn't managed to destroy the house while we've been away."

Dawn laughed and caught his hand, practically dragging him down the stairs. It was always fun to be overly hyperactive around vamps in the morning.

Buffy, miraculously, had not managed to misconstrue the meaning of any of Spike's instructions in the slightest. She gave him a proud smile from her seat on the couch, and he felt compelled to give her one little quick kiss on the forehead to let her know how appreciative he was of her good job.

Dawn rolled her eyes and grabbed several granola bars from the cupboard. She tossed one to Spike, and he forced himself to eat it just so he wouldn't hurt his Bit's feelings. Frankly, it tasted rather like artificially sweetened cardboard to him.

The three of them sat down at the kitchen table together, Buffy's hand lightly brushing against his thigh, and Dawn back to teasing him already. And, for just one second, it all seemed wonderfully, perfectly normal to him, and he wished that things could be like this forever...

Of course, he should have remembered that that violated the unspoken, eleventh commandment: 'Spike shall not ever be happy for long.' He really should have remembered that.

But the afternoon had been so pleasant.

After a brief call to Anya to make sure that everything they needed for their plan to work was in place, they'd settled down to a game of Monopoly (because they really had nothing better to do, and Spike had been getting increasingly more edgy as the hours had slipped by – so Dawn had chosen the longest game she could think of).

Of course, his Nibblet had slaughtered them both. Buffy had been too busy making sure that Spike had every advantage over her while simultaneously distracting him with enticing little caresses. Needless to say, neither had been in top form.

And Dawn could kick their collective asses even when they were.

Anya's package had arrived that evening less than five minutes after the pizza – again.

Spike was quite confident Buffy was going to dust him on principle the second she got back to her normal self since he'd let Dawn eat greasy cheese for dinner two nights in a row – and made her eat it, as well.

He planned his defense strategy in his head as he got ready for bed. He figured he could probably use the fact that the pizza place seemed to be the only store open to his advantage. Apparently, the clueless and oblivious Pizza Hut folks hadn't noticed that the entire female population of Sunnydale had gone all crazy-horny. It was actually possible since pizza delivery people by necessity were the most clueless in town – there was no more surefire way of becoming vampire take-out.

Spike slipped into the pair of baggy old boxers he'd found in Buffy's room. He'd made sure they didn't belong to any of her exes first – he really didn't fancy wearing hand-me-downs from Angelus, or worse, Captain Cardboard – and had been immensely satisfied to learn that they were part of her own sleepwear.

Normally, he went without such things, but tonight...

There was no way he was going to get caught butt-naked with the Slayer again. She persisted in being aloud to pleasure him by sleeping at his side, and he humored her because it wasn't worth the effort to try to fiddle with whatever brainwashing she'd been given...and, all right, because he enjoyed feeling her beside him as well.

But he wasn't a masochist. He would ensure the proper barriers first.

Buffy had pulled on his own black tee the instant he'd discarded it, and he was a bit relieved. She wasn't wearing anything else. Again.

He prepared a mental checklist in his head to make sure that the previous morning's disaster wouldn't occur again. I'm dressed, check; Buffy's dressed, check; Dawn knows she's staying with me tonight, check...

He settled back down onto the mattress and purred in contentment when Buffy curled up beside him, her hardened nipples poking him through the thin fabric of his shirt.

"Would you like me to touch you?" she asked, as eager to please as ever.

He shook his head. "Jus' go to sleep, luv," he insisted.

She nodded and snuggled against him a bit more before her breathing turned slow and regular, indicating that she had drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

Spike dared to brush his lips softly against hers as she slept and sighed at the memory of their two, all-too-brief mutually consensual kisses. Her lips really were so round and warm and soft and...

Wanker!

He turned his line of thought in another direction. Tonight would be the last night they slept together like this. Midnight tomorrow night, the auction would take place, and he'd buy her and get the key, and then he'd have the woman he loved back to hating his very existence against.

He sighed and wrapped his arms around her a little tighter. It wasn't fair, dammit! This stupid spell had come so close to giving him everything he ever wanted, and now he had to give it all back. Rhitias was in for a bloody, gruesome demise, that was for sure.

But it was all worth it because this time tomorrow his beautiful, powerful, infuriating, irate Buffy would be back.

Unless something went wrong.

But it was such a simple plan. Nothing could go wrong.

Right?

Oh, what can go wrong? You'll just have to review to find out. ~_^ And to get more Spikey nudity, of course...