If you had asked me ten years ago what my life was going to be like at twenty-five, it would have gone something like this: Married to a wall street whiz, or possibly Brad Pitt. Two kids lovingly tended to by a nanny. A mansion in Santa Barbara, a summer house in the Hamptons, and a BMW to drive.

But that was before Buffy, before Angel, before everything.

Even a year ago, if you had told me that I was going to be here, watching a vampire, albeit one with a soul, drink my blood, I would have said no way. At least not this vampire.

And the scary thing is, right now, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Nothing, and I mean nothing could ever feel this...

I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me rewind a bit.

The first post-Angel vision hit while I was on my book tour.

What? Layers, people.

I'll have you know that the Vampyre PI series is quite popular. It was even mentioned on an episode of Law & Order. (Which in my opinion has gone downhill since they replaced Angie Harmon with that blonde.) Not to mention that my books are a hell of a lot more accurate than anything that Anne Rice chick could dream up. People know authenticity when they see it. I mean, please, I could not make this shit up.

And again, I'm off topic. Future generations are gonna read this and say, 'yeah Grandma Cordy was a bad ass, but jeez what an air-head.'

So I'm gonna just go with a fragmented narrative at this point, future generations.

I strolled into the bar like I owned the place. I strolled into pretty much everywhere like I owned the place, it was just my style.

There he sat. Wearing a leather duster that was just plain ridiculous since it was July. Weird thing? No one was staring at him. I mean first of all, leather jacket. Number two: no tan. And C: bleach blonde, and I mean seriously bleach blonde hair.

And can we say hot? I've always thought so, even when I was aiming a crossbow at his heart.

Angel had the tall dark and handsome thing going for him.

But Spike? The guy just oozed sex appeal. Even falling down drunk he was completely jump-able. Not that I'd be stupid enough to say, 'hey, here's another vampire with a soul who still loves Buffy. Why don't I sacrifice all of my dreams and completely devote myself to him?'

Please. I do have some semblance of a brain in this strikingly beautiful head of mine.

So I said, coolly, "Well, if it isn't William the Bloody."

He turned to look at me. He practically sang, "Cordelia. What brings you to Cabo?"

"You." I slid onto the bar stool next to his. The bartender approached to offer me a drink. I waved him off. "I had a vision," I told Spike. "There's a group of...somethings...they're gonna kill a bunch of innocent people."

Spike stared straight into his nearly empty glass. "And you think I care?"

Okay, I was thrown for a minute. With Angel, it would've been 'to the Batpoles, Robin!' But this was Spike.

Spike was apathetic. No problem. Nothing I couldn't handle.

"I know you care."

"Wrong, love. I make it a point to care about nothing and no one."

Man, did Buffy turn him into a messed up example of non-humanity.

"I need your help, Spike."

He got up to leave. "Afraid you came a long way for nothing."

Well, he was certainly surly. But then, as I understand it, newly souled Angel wasn't exactly a barrel of laughs either.

I called out, "I'll just go it alone then."

I saw his shoulders twitch. I would've done a victory dance, but that would've been tacky.

I simply don't do tacky.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He showed up at my hotel room. Really, there was no doubt that he would.

I pretended to be pleasantly surprised as I opened the door to my suite. "You found me....come in."

He sauntered through the door at my invitation. His hands were jammed into his pockets. He shrugged his shoulders, "Followed your scent."

I could not have been more offended. I spent a hell of a lot of money for the express purpose of completely eradicating my scent. "Excuse me? I do not have a scent!"

"Your perfume."

Oh. Now see that was different. "Specially blended for me. Like it?"

"Nice."

"What kind of demons exactly?" he asked.

Straight to the point. I like that.

"I thought you didn't care."

"I don't."

He handed me a slip of paper and explained, "My address. Meet me tomorrow. Dawn."

"You're gonna help me?"

He shrugged again. "Against my better judgment, yeah. You're going to have to work hard. Keep up. Won't have you getting killed."

He turned to leave. I felt compelled to call out, "You won't regret this."

He mumbled, "I already do."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was pretty sure that my visions would let me know then whens and whys of the impending Rumble in the Jungle. All I knew so far was that I was supposed to find Spike.

Done.

I felt pretty confident that I could take on the demon dudes in my vision.

Spike was less confident.

He made me train.

All day.

Every day.

For two months straight.

This wasn't your calming, centering type training that I was used to, either. No Tai Chi, no swordplay. Just straight out street fighting requiring lots of close physical contact.

For ninety nine percent of our training sessions, Spike went shirtless.

Out in public? Leather jacket.

Alone with me? Clothing optional.

Makes sense? Not even a little. But I'm telling you, it did some crazy-ass things to my libido.

I mean, how was I supposed to concentrate on anything with all the rippling going on?

~~~~~~~~

"You gonna tell me?" he asked once after a particularly sweaty training session.

"Bout what?"

I sucked down some of my Evian. I pretended not to know what he wanted to know about. (Note to self: have book editor go over that sentence.)

"The poof. What went down with you two?"

I did the shrugging thing. "Oh, you know the story." In my best Angel voice, I mimicked, "Sorry Cor, still in love with Buffy. Always have been. But hey, thanks for the complete lack of laughs."

Strange how my best impersonation of Angel sounded a lot like Pee Wee Herman.

Spike scoffed, "Don't understand the big deal with Angel. His manly man parts don't even work."

"They worked. He just couldn't use them."

Spike rolled his eyes.

I couldn't resist delving into one of Xander's favorite wild rumors. "Oh please. Like you and he didn't..."

"My God no!"

He looked so cute with the whole indignant thing going for him. I had to press. "Right. Sure. I know all about the whole homoerotic vampire-sire thing."

"No. No way." He puffed himself up a little (to look more man-stud-like). "I had Drusilla."

My turn to scoff, "Yeah. Good choice on that one."

"Well at least I never kissed Xander." Amazing how a centuries old vampire can still sound like an adolescent. Men. They just never ever grow up.

"That was totally your fault," I reminded him.

"How do you figure?"

"Order of Taraka? Ring a bell? That nasty bug assassin you sent after Buffy came after me and Xander instead. It was all very sexy with the trapped together and the..." He was smirking at me. "And the Harmony thing was totally your fault too!"

"Harmony thing?"

"She totally came on to me after you dumped her."

Spike looked very interested. "Really?"

Okay. I have a problem with lying. You'd think that would be a good thing. For some reason brutally-honest-Cordy? Not so popular.

"Well, no. She mostly just wanted to eat me."

Spike's eyebrows shot up. I knew a smart ass comment was forthcoming.

"Oh grow up!" I scolded. "Vampire? Blood sucky? Get it? Jeez, give a guy a lesbian-y mental picture and he goes all glassy-eyed."

"Can't help it," he smiled, "We're just animals after all."

"This is why I've decided to become a hairy-legged feminist."

Spike laughed out loud. It made his stomach muscles do the rippling thing. God help me. Another vampire with a soul. Sing a new song Cordy.

"Seriously," I asserted. "I'm gonna burn my bra and stop wearing deodorant!"

He laughed harder.

"I've placed a moratorium on penises. Don't need them or anyone that has them. Except you...and that's totally the Powers That Be at fault. Come to think of it, the Powers are probably men too."

He wiped a tear of laughter from his eye and, in jest, commented, "Angel really did a number on you."

A little less jest-y I asked, "And Buffy didn't do one on you?"

He shrugged. "I'm doing all right."

"Puh-lease," I scoffed, "If it wasn't for me you'd still be slurping down tequila at Senor Steve's Bar and Taco Shop."

"Well," he looked at me all serious-like, "I'm doing better now. Got something to believe in. Don't I, love?"

Did he mean me? I feel like I'm drowning in this guy and the only flotation devices handy are Pamela Anderson's implants.

"What about you, Cordelia? What do you believe in?"

"I don't know." I thought for a second. "I used to believe in the value of honesty, that true love would conquer all, and the importance of a really good pair of Manolo Blahniks."

"And now?"

"Pretty much just the shoes."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After two months of training, Spike felt I was ready for a patrol.

Still no big vision from the Powers that Be a Pain in My Ass about the forthcoming Battle Royale. But hey, I was in no rush to die a horrible death in some upcoming apocalypse.

Normally, the whole end of the world party would be the Slayer's job. But she's busy playing house with tall, dark, and newly human.

But I digress.

Yes, I know what that means.

Jeez.

And, no I'm not bitter. Buffy's cast off, he may be, but Spike is a catch of George Cloonian proportions. You know, if George Clooney was a slightly morose vampire burdened with a soul and a lower-class British accent.

And I'm off target again.

Anyway, one night on patrol we got attacked by seven very nasty vamps. So I dusted them.

Okay, so Spike killed five nasty vamps and I killed two fat and slow ones. But they came at us at once. All seven. It was not a small deal.

We stood there, panting. I think Spike was doing it just to make me feel better.

"Is that all of 'em?" I asked, still holding onto my stake for dear life.

"Yeah. Think so."

He was standing across from me, staring deep into my eyes. And did I mention the panting?

Can you say, 'sexual tension'? I have never wanted anything in my life as much as I wanted Spike right then. I figured, 'what the hell?'

You can only guess how frustrated I was when Spike put his hands on my shoulders and held me away from him. Effectively keeping me, Queen C the kissing bandit, from my goal.

"Cordy, we shouldn't."

Why the hell not?

"Why the hell not?"

What? I say what I'm thinking. There are much worse character faults, believe me. Like, oh, I don't know, a self-righteous martyr complex maybe?

Spike was walking away. Away from me. That kind of ticked me off. So I yelled,

"Hey! Don't walk away when I'm talking to you! I didn't want to kiss you anyway....jerk!"

His damned duster was doing the swinging creature of the night hero thing. What is it with vampires and their oh so dramatic exits anyway?

"Oh and," I called out, "we're in Mexico. In July. Ditch the duster Bleach Boy."

Ah, immaturity. Sometimes its the greatest thing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next night's patrol was tense, to say the least.

"Spike can we...?"

"No."

"...talk about it?"

"Let it go, Cordelia."

"You don't know me at all, do you?" I challenged. "I don't let things go. I harp on them until you want to tear out your hair and your ears bleed." I gave him my best beaming smile, "Its part of my charm."

He snarled at me. Not literally. Just a human-faced 'I'm exasperated with Cordelia' snarl.

I reasoned, "It was just one attempted kiss. What could have possibly happened?"

"Think a bit about the last ensouled vampire that got horizontal with the woman he loved."

Visions of Angelus danced through my head. Perfect happiness and poof goes the soul. "Great. I'm partnered with another stinking eunuch."

"I'm not a eunuch!" he declared with obvious disdain. He puffed himself up. "And my soul is permanent!"

"So again?" I asked, "What's the big?"

"The big is, we're partners." He turned toward me with the most sincere look on his face. In a earnest tone he said, "I don't want to muck with that."

In the companionable silence that followed, my brain caught up with the conversation. "Wait a minute. Did you say you loved me?"

"What?"

"You said, 'the last vampire that did the wild thing with the woman he loved...' You said love."

"I was talking about Buffy."

"Oh." I tried really hard not to look devastated. I'm sure I did an amazing job.

Spike tried to cover with, "I meant that Angel loved Buffy."

"And you? Do you still love Buffy?"

Spike narrowed his eyes and asked, "Do you still love Angel?"

"I asked you first."

"Cordelia..." he warned.

"No! I asked first so you answer first. Fair's fair."

"Bloody hell woman, there's a..."

"Oh my God, cut it out with the bloody hells already!" I interrupted, "Its always bloody hell this and bloody hell that. Find a new expression!"

"Demon," he cautioned.

Unfortunately for me I had no Spider Senses when it came to vamps and demons. So I stood there like a dope. "Huh?"

"There's a demon behind you."

I spun around and sure enough...

"Okay, see that's rude," I told the big ugly demon. "We were talking."

"You got this Cordy?" Spike asked with an amused lilt.

"Oh yeah, someone's gonna learn a lesson."

Spike chuckled and leaned against a gravestone to watch.

I did well at first. Really. My demon-y bits are quite an advantage in this sort of thing. Distressingly, Big and Ugly had friends, and soon, I was in a less quippy mood.

I heard Spike prodding me into action, "They're getting your shoes dirty, Cordelia. You gonna let that slide?"

Then something strange happened.

I kicked ass.

Something inside me went off and suddenly I was a force. All of my anger and frustration over the last ten years poured out of me in a rain of fists and fury.

It was passion. And it wasn't because of my shoes.

I lost track of time. I looked down and they were dead and Spike was at my side.

"Cordelia?"

I looked up at him and barely registered that he was there. I mumbled something like, "I'm fine," and walked away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Training became a surreal exercise.

Rote by rote we practiced, my muscles memorized every move and I passionlessly executed each action.

I never noticed the look of concern in Spike's eyes.

I didn't know what had happened to me.

It wasn't anything mystical or supernatural.

It just was.

I crept out of bed every night. I hunted, trying to recapture that feeling.

Sometimes I did.

But, Spider Senses what they were, I never noticed my partner shadowing my every move.

It went on for weeks like this.

Then one night, I was outclassed by a dirty vamp.

When I say dirty, I mean smelly.

My eyes were watering as he held me pinned beneath him. I was seriously overpowered. This was it. This was how I was going to die. And to top it off, I was going to smell bad. I closed my eyes and waited for Sir-Smells-A-Lot to sink his fangs into my neck. Instead he licked the blood that was oozing from my split lip. I cringed in disgust.

Suddenly, the vamp's weight flew off of me and I desperately sucked in the fresh air.

My rescuer attacked like a wild animal. In effect, that's what he was.

As I staggered to my feet, Spike dispatched the vamp by yanking his head from his neck. The cloud of dust settled around him.

Spike's amber eyes stared fixedly at the blood on my lip as he stalked slowly toward me.

I was flooded with waves of fear and desire.

With every step he took my heart thudded in my chest. I wondered if it was as loud to him as it was to me. I closed my eyes and tried to slow my heartbeat, listening to the rush of blood in my ears.

When I opened my eyes he was standing in front of me, still wearing the face of a demon and still behaving like a feral creature whose territory had been infringed upon.

Suddenly, Spike crushed me to him with a possessive snarl. His fingers dug into my bruised arms. And for the second time that night, a vampire tasted my blood.

He sucked my bottom lip into his mouth and licked the wound with his darting tongue. Parting my lips, I invited him in. I snaked my own tongue to explore his mouth.

A canine scraped my tongue, leaving more of the salty taste of my own blood in my mouth.

The shock of the painful sensation sent me staggering back. My hand flew up to my mouth and I touched my still bleeding lip. In his eyes I could see only one thing: pure animal lust.

I brought my finger up to his lips and invited him to have another taste.

With his demon at the surface it was more than he could possibly resist. He opened his mouth to accept his treat but I pulled my finger away. I slid my bloodied fingertip across my collarbone and down the valley between my breasts.

He roared and attacked. We toppled together to the ground. My clothes were shredded as he ripped them from my body.

The cool night air fondled my bare skin tenderly in sharp contrast to Spike's hungry hands and mouth. He was relentless. His hands and lips were everywhere at once.

I heard myself whimper in frustration as my hands searched for the feel of flesh but all they found were leather and cotton and denim.

The world came to a shuddering halt when his mouth found my center. My hands abandoned their quest for flesh and wound themselves into his hair.

I cried out when a sharp fang scraped my tender clit, drawing blood. Spike clamped down on it, relentlessly sucking down the mixture of blood and my syrupy juices.

I was half-aware that I was trying to writhe away from my torturer who had drawn my to the point of pleasure and beyond.

"Son of a...Spike ...I can't...please...fuck...oh God...its too much...oh God..."

Dimly, I realized that the string of expletives had poured out of my mouth.

Over and over I crashed, like a wave in a storm. I vaguely remember someone screaming. I think it must have been me.

Unable to come down, I drifted into unconsciousness.

~~~~

I awoke to find myself resting on something other than grass and wrapped in something besides the night air.

Spike's jacket. The supple leather caressed my body. Spike's cool fingers were doing the same to my face.

"Cordelia? Baby wake up. C'mon, pet."

My eyes fluttered open and were met with his concerned gaze. His demon was safely tucked away but the animal in me was still craving satisfaction. I guess desire is its own demon.

I reached up and forced his lips to meet mine. Our tongues danced while Spike settled onto me, still wearing those damned clothes.

I made quick work of the T-shirt, pulling it over his head, but I couldn't tug off his jeans without depriving myself of the weight of his body.

It was only when he climbed off of me to remove them himself that I realized where we were. Spike must have carried me home from the cemetery to his bed. What a sight we must have been, a vampire carrying a naked girl through the streets of Cabo.

Finally he was back where he felt so good: in my arms and between my legs. When his erection brushed my sore nub I hissed and pressed against his chest, holding him away. My poor clit had been abused that night and as delicious as the sensation was, I didn't want to pass out again.

Spike understood. He gently turned me over. I pushed myself up onto my knees but, since I was still pretty shaky, I left my cheek pressed against the lining of his duster.

Gently he eased himself into me. My vaginal walls were still slick from our graveyard activities and he was met with no resistance as he filled me. With each thrust, Spike drew my hips back to meet him. It was torturously slow. Frustrated, I slammed my fist into the mattress and my hips back into Spike. "More," I pleaded, "more."

Without breaking our connection, Spike leaned down and wrapped an arm around my ribcage. He pulled me back up against him, changing the angle of penetration. With the hand that wasn't holding me tight he tipped my face back to claim my lips.

I felt a burning in my belly that I had never felt before. As if he knew what I wanted, he sped up his rhythm, rubbing against the magic spot that I had only read about. Deeper and deeper he plunged and I succumbed to the flames of pleasure that consumed me.

He came with a shudder and down we fell, together into the sweat soaked sheets.

~~~~~~

I woke up all cozy and comfy in Spike's bed.

My eyes hazily opened to see him sitting on the edge of the mattress.

"Morning," I flashed him a lover's smile when he turned to look at me.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

I stretched languidly, "Peachy."

He looked completely forlorn. "I hurt you."

I sat up and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "No you didn't."

"Cordelia, you passed out from the pain."

"Actually, I passed out from the pleasure. Its the kind of thing every Cosmo girl dreams of."

He stood and paced the room. "We can't do this. I can't do this."

I knew exactly why. "You still love her."

He actually thought about it before he answered. "No. I'm just not ready to love someone else. I'm sorry."

I tried really hard not to let his words sting. And if I was honest with myself, I probably wasn't ready either.

"I understand."

"Cordy," he sat back down beside me. "I don't want to ruin things between us. And I may have done just that last night."

I shook my head that he hadn't.

"God, I don't know what I'm doing." He looked at me intensely. "I'm just fumbling along here, love."

"Me too."

"Well then, we'll just keep fumbling on together and see what happens. Are we good?"

"We're good, Spike." After a pause I added, "Just friends, huh?"

"For the time being anyway. I can always use a good friend, pet."

"Just one request."

"Whassat, love?"

"You have got to start wearing a T-shirt when we train. My raging hormones can only take so much rippling."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things weren't as tense as I thought they'd be after the big sex-fest, which I'll admit wasn't the best and most brilliant of ideas. We went back to our usual banter complete with sexual tension, still training for an apocalypse that we knew nothing about.

"You ever think that maybe we could use a Watcher?" I asked while working out with Spike.

"I've been around over a century, ducks. I know a little something about demonology."

"And yet, we still know nothing about the demons we have to kill." I ducked a punch by Spike.

He kicked my feet out from under me and replied, "I'm not in charge of your vision thingy. You want to know more, have one."

I hopped back on my feet. "I can't just command them to happen, Spike." I threw a punch, that he easily deflected.

"You're forecasting your punches again." I threw another one and he scolded, "Dammit Cordelia, you act like you've never fought before."

"You're a dick."

He dropped his stance and did a little hand puppet gesture. I took the opportunity to knock him to the floor. I straddled his prone body, stake in hand and taunted, "An immature, arrogant prick of a dick."

He shot back, "And you're a spoiled little rich girl who can't throw a punch."

I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Don't stick that out unless you intend to use it."

I thwacked him upside the head and climbed off. "Just friends, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember."

He propped himself up on his elbows and regarded me strangely as I sucked down some Evian. "Cordelia, you're glowing."

"Nah, I'm just flushed," I teased, "the glowing comes after."

He climbed to his feet and approached me with worry. "No, you're literally glowing."

The vision came at me in a flood of disjointed images. I closed my eyes to concentrate. As the pictures faded away, I opened them to see Spike looking at me with a mix of curiosity and concern.

"Its time to go," I told him.

"Apocalypse? Life? Death?"

I finished, "Big drama? Pretty much."

He sighed, "Figures."

"You up for it?"

Spike smirked. "I'm always up for it."

Big fun with double entendres. That's my Spike.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay. Here's where I screwed up.

Having money again momentarily blinded me to the realities of traveling with a vampire.

I figured; Why travel on a dingy cargo vessel when we could travel in style?

Rats. That's why. Cargo vessels have them. Cruise ships generally don't.

What was Spike was planning on for sustenance? Rats. The midnight buffet was so not fulfilling his dietary requirements. But did he say anything? Nooooo. So the chompy bitey thing was not really my fault.

And at first, I'll admit, I was clueless. But after a week, I noticed that Spike wasn't his usual self.

~~~~~~~~~~~

I tucked my towel around my waist and examined myself in the bathroom mirror, preparing for another lazy day beside the pool. "I hope I don't run into Mrs. Whitehead from the next cabin again," I told Spike, who was lounging in one of the two twin beds. "She's making me nuts." I imitated her whiny drawl, "Cordelia, Betsy and Angelo are going to live happily ever after, right? Cordelia, I think you should do another book about Cora's ghost. Cordelia, are you gonna write another book about Angelo?"

I heard Spike mumble, "God, I hope not."

"I was actually thinking of introducing a new character," I told him as I emerged from the bath, "Slade, the vampire with a heart of gold."

He scoffed, "Whatever makes your readers happy, love."

"My public loves me." I smiled widely for him. "Unfortunately, Mrs. Whitehead's dog doesn't. The little shithead bit me. Look."

I held out my finger for Spike to examine. His eyes went kind of glassy and I pulled my hand back. I quickly changed the subject, "Do you think its odd that no one has commented on the fact that you haven't been on deck in the daytime?"

"Cordelia, you are talking about people who were convinced to get on this tub by Kathie Lee Gifford singing showtunes."

His smart ass comment lacked its sting and his eyes drifted closed as he scolded me, "I can't believe you're going sunbathing again."

"Jealous much, pale face?" Then I noticed him. Really noticed. "You know it may be my Hawaiian Tropic tan, but you look deader than usual."

"Sun's rays are getting to your brain, love," he said. He didn't open his eyes. I was beginning to worry.

He convinced me to go ahead and spend my day on deck. It was two days later when he admitted that he had long since run out of any pests to hunt on the ship. He hadn't found any rats, just a few mice, and they weren't much. He teased that he was thinking about snacking on the Chihuahua in the next suite. This was nothing to tease about. This was serious, and it was my fault. So I decided to take action.

He was in no condition to stop me.

Now, for the record, I was scared shitless. Oh sure, I looked all confident and self assured walking over to his bed, holding a knife in my hand, but I was totally acting. So my time in LA had been worth something after all. Go figure.

I cradled him in my arms. My breasts were smashed against his back as he leaned heavily into my embrace. I held the knife in my hand and cut an angry gash into my other wrist.

His eyes flickered open and he murmured, "No."

But like I said, he was in no condition to stop me. With my uncut hand, I held him closer to me. I commanded, "Drink up," and I pressed the tender flesh of my bleeding wrist to his dry and chapped lips.

He didn't fight the first few drops. Then the taste woke him up and he pushed away the precious nourishment.

"Cordelia...no."

"Oh, shut up and stop being so difficult. You need blood. I've got blood. Drink. " I offered a suggestion, "Pretend its some of Senor Steve's tequila."

In the state he was in, he couldn't fight the demon inside. Still, he was tender, he never bit down, thank God. I mean how was I possibly going to explain bite marks on my wrist? No, he just nursed on his mother's milk like a demonic little baby.

Now this is where it gets a little porn-like by way of the X-files.

I was getting wet watching him. I know. Weird. But it was very erotic in a twisted way.

We began to move together with every sip and swallow. I started grinding against him even as the world around me started to blur away. I don't know what came over me but I did...come I mean. Hard. So hard I wondered if I had ever really had before because nothing really compared to this. With a cry, I passed out, once again, because of a Spike-induced orgasm.

~~~~~~

Waking up with Spike hovering above me was starting to become a familiar tableau.

"Cordelia? Thank God," he uttered when I opened my eyes. Abruptly, his voice changed to that of an irate parent, "I could kill you!"

"You're welcome," I replied, clutching my aching head while I sat up.

He switched back into concerned guy and handed me a cup of juice," Here. Drink this." He watched while I dutifully drank. "Do you have any idea how stupid that was?"

I wiped away the little bit of juice that had dribbled onto my chin and asked, "Have you thought about getting professional help for that bipolar problem of yours?"

At my wry witticism he noted, "You're feeling better."

"My head's killing me," I admitted and laid back down.

"To be expected. I think I took too much." He looked wounded. "Promise me you'll never do anything like that again."

"I can't promise..."

He interrupted forcefully, "You will never do anything like that again!"

Now, I couldn't promise that unless he made the same promise. Boarding a ship that had nothing for him to eat was pretty stupid. Not telling me was even more stupid. So my stupid thing was way low on the stupidity meter. I began to argue my point, "But it was..."

Again, he interrupted, "I don't care how much you enjoyed it! You are not letting me feed from you again."

"Enjoyed? I..." Crap. He knew. Of course he knew. He had that super vampire smeller. "Oh God..." I covered my face and muttered, "I'm so embarrassed."

Spike shrugged, "Don't be. Its a natural reaction."

I glanced at him through my fingers, "He says as he smirks."

"Happened to me too. The first time. When Dru..."

My turn to interrupt, "Too much information!"

We shared embarrassed smiles and let a comfortable silence envelop the cabin. After a bit, Spike sat down on the edge of my bed. He carefully reminded me, "I could have killed you."

"But you didn't. I trusted you."

Flustered, Spike rose from my bedside. "Right then. Lets get some food in you." He reached for the phone. Before he lifted the receiver, he said, "Cordelia? Thank you."

"You're welcome, Spike." I smiled easily and honestly told him, "I'm really not hungry."

"But you need..."

"Rest," I insisted, "I need rest."

"Right." Spike moved toward the door. "I'll just..."

"Stay. You'll stay. And you'll sleep too. You won't hover. You won't worry. And, you won't make that face." His melancholy expression melted away and he gave me a half-smile. "You'll just sleep. Comprende?"

"Yeah. I got it." He curled up against my back and held me to him.

Even though I couldn't see his face I guessed that he might still be fretting about recent events so I reminded him, "No brooding."

"I'm not."

"I can feel you brooding. Cut it out."

"Anyone told you lately that you are a bloody lunatic?"

"I may be," I admitted, "but I'm going to be your personal ray of goddamn sunshine if it kills me."

He cuddled me closer and we settled in for a nice nap. Eventually, I found myself in that surreal place where you aren't quite asleep and not quite awake. I heard myself ask, "Spike? We're not just friends...are we?"

"No Cordy, we aren't just friends."

~~~~~~~

Spike struck quite a figure standing on the deck, watching the endless ocean sail by. I wanted to stand and watch him. I could have for hours but he sensed me or smelled me or something because he turned and smiled. "You're up."

"I would've been up here sooner but Mrs. Whitehead cornered me. She wanted to talk about Betsy and Angelo." I rolled my eyes. "Made me want to slice open the other wrist."

"Not funny," Spike scolded but at the same time he held out his arms and invited me into them. I sighed with contentment as I nestled my head into the pleasant place where his neck and shoulder meet. I felt his voice rumble in his chest when he asked, "Be docking soon. Ready for the big fight, love?"

"Mmm hmm." For some unknown reason, I felt unsure of myself. For me, this was a strange and unusual sensation. It was like some strange alter ego felt compelled to remind him, "I'll never be like Buffy."

"No." Spike cupped my chin in his hand and looked deep into my eyes. "You're more. There are two kinds of heroes, love. One that is chosen to fight the good fight, and one that chooses to do it. You chose. That makes you stronger. That makes you more." He added with a bit of a sly smile, "I don't like seeing you insecure. Its not in your nature."

I smiled just a little bit. "Do you think maybe we could un-choose and go to Jamaica instead?"

We both smiled at this. Spike even swallowed a chuckle. "So," I asked, "Are we...?"

"After we save the world, then we'll talk."

"Nope. We talk or no big apocalypse for you, mister," I demanded.

"Cordelia..."

"Its just three little words, Spike."

He looked so funny, faking annoyance with me.

"Repeat after me, Bleach Boy: I looove you Cordy."

"Cordy..." he growled.

"Oh Cordelia.... I wuv you."

"Cordelia shut up."

Now, I ask you, is there anything better than a great pre-apocalyptic kiss from a love-struck ensouled vampire? Maybe a really good pair of broken-in Jimmy Choos. But even that's debatable. His lips were still brushing mine when he told me, "Cordelia Chase, you are the biggest pain in the arse I have ever met."

"And you love me," I reminded him.

"And I love you."

And that, future generations is the end of this narrative. That's pretty much all of the important stuff anyway. Except for maybe the apocalyptic battle against hordes of unnamed demons.

And meeting up with Angel and Buffy again.

And Drusilla trying to steal Spike's soul.

But if you want to read about all of that I suggest you pick up a copy of Vampyre PI: Cora & Slade's Immortal Love. Available for $29.95 at a bookstore near you.

The End.