Thank you Debz, my lovely beta woman!!!

Basically, any scenes of a particular nature are written by 'anonymous' because I couldn't write 'em! So, this fic is pretty much co-authored by 'Anonymous'!! Thank you babe! You are an amazing writer!!!!

Ok, here we go!!

After her late night chat with Spike, Buffy couldn't help but flush at the sight of him. Something seemed to have ignited in her very veins and every curl of his lip was salivated over in her head. Venomous glances were often thrown to Anya, who Buffy had now, quite unfairly,  labelled 'slut'.

The way he frowned mid-discussion was strangely endearing, as was his cocky grin. She managed to bite it down though, there was no use getting so worked up about him, Anya clearly had dibs. Plus there was no way she'd let that cocky, arrogant dick know she was hot for him.

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"So, what did ya think of good ol' England?"

"Funnily enough, they didn't annoy me with 100 000 versions of your shitty voice."

"Weren't in the right part 'o town. I'll take you sometime."

Rolling her eyes, Buffy moved forward to talk to Carla. She and Spike had had another argument that very morning. It had simply been over how much area each suitcase deserved around it for surplus material. In actual fact, Buffy was pissed that Spike's stuff was scattered everywhere, and Spike was pissed that Buffy called him a prude when she couldn't even handle some boxers carelessly thrown near her suitcase.

England had been relatively rushed, but the atmosphere had reminded Buffy of New York bustle, with a tang of indifference and a huge splodge of upper crust society. Greece had proved to be amazing and Buffy had already decided that it would be one of her options. They travelled from Crete to Athens to Corfu, and enjoyed every minute of it. The arguments between Buffy and Spike had become somewhat of a running joke, so when they were given a free night to spend how they wanted, Buffy wasted no time in donning her best clubbing outfit and hitting the night-life.

A few hours and an infinity of drinks later, Buffy was found attempting the 100th party trick she had tried to learn that night. This one involved bending over backward and gripping the rim of a glass between her teeth before quickly straightening up, effectively, drinking the glass. There seemed to have been more spilt than drunk but Buffy still managed to lose complete control over herself.

Dancing and screaming, Buffy was loving the atmosphere and danced with several people, flirting outrageously and kissing a few here and there. Blaming the alcohol, Buffy was surprised at how totally blown away she was by the sudden sight in front of her.  Sebbie and Spike were dancing. Together. Very close to each other. Grinding against each other. Locking hips with each other. Undulating their torsos against each other. Sebbie seemed to be whispering something in Spike's ear and Buffy all but melted when the dark-haired man began nipping and sucking on Spike's ear. Unable to move, the blonde was entranced by the sight before her. Feeling like a stalker, she watched as Sebbie danced Spike flush against a wall and began grinding himself into the moaning man's body. Buffy hadn't seen anything quite as erotic in all her years and doubted she ever would. About to turn away and return to the rooms to…help herself out, the historian was shocked to see the two men's lips meet in a fiery, demanding kiss that indicated a complete abandon that would no doubt lead them to bed that night.

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Sobering up a bit on the walk home, Buffy made her way to the room that was currently home. Anya was obviously still out judging from the silence that greeted her.....and Spike?

"Hello, pet."

Screaming, Buffy spun around and fell back onto the bed.

"Didn't have to make it that easy, luv."

Awkward, the blond quickly stood up and tried to compose herself. What was he doing there? He was meant to be having sex with Sebbie! Damn him!

"Uhm."  *real smooth*

Invading her personal space, Spike pulled her to his chest and forced her into a gentle, swaying dance to the roaring music still pouring through the streets.

All Buffy could think about was the heat of him. His skin burned from dancing the night through and he smelt of musty cologne and various perfumes. Lulled by his hands on her back, Buffy lay her head against his shoulder and they danced for a long time, only stopping when the sun's rays hit their bodies and sleep took them into a tight hold that even the beginnings of an infatuation can't hold off.

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"I did not lose your passport!"

Buffy screeched at Spike as they stood at the departure gate. It had been almost two weeks now and the group had done Europe and a little of South America. They were now headed to Asia - hoping to drop in on India, Hong Kong, Japan and the islands of the Indian Ocean for the remaining Tour.

"Buffy, where the hell is your head, girl? I gave it to you to put in your bloody purse back at the loos."

"I don't remember that at all!"

"Yes you fucking do!"

"Don't be such a - look, I found it!"

"In your purse!"

"You musta put it in there yourself you idiot!"

"If you'da just checked in the first place, we could have avoided all of this."

"If you hadn't illegally opened my purse and put it in without telling me - let alone asking me, I would have."

"Bitch."

"Whore."

"I'm a man."

"Man-whore."

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Two weeks slipped by in a blur of rickshaws and shark's fin. Foods and Arts and Music, whole cultures were opened to the group and Buffy knew that she'd be back for more. There were only a few days of the tour left and then, while the rest of the group went back to the US, Buffy would fly off to her first destination.

She had decided to spend three months in Rome followed by 4 months in Mexico and then 4 months in India. The excitement had built up to a critical point and her last few days in Australia seemed to drag on in front of her.

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Ever since that night in Greece, she'd wanted him. Badly. She'd seen him flirt more with Sebbie, and like the stalker she was, had watched them in various bars and clubs. Always hot and desperate she'd either get help or help herself. She'd only slept with two people, one in Italy - a hot waiter that brushed his fingers against her cheek every time he passed, and the other in Buenos Aires, a random club man who she'd danced with for hours and hours and finally fucked against the wall, in front of everyone who was either too piss-drunk to realise, or too involved in doing it themselves to watch.

The two men didn't seem to be going anywhere and Sebbie had confessed- 'We just have some hot fun when we want. There's nothing to it, but I get a little teasing and Spike gets to sate that ickle bisexual tendency he has.'

Buffy didn't give a damn. He was hot and they'd flirt unbearably. When he was in the room, her whole body was wired up and he'd do things, little things, to draw attention to his crotch, just to tease her. They both wanted each other and they both knew it. But it was a test, a game, to see who was stronger, who could give in last.

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