Willow sighed, rubbing the wet washcloth over her face. "It's too damn hot here," she said to no one. She was sitting alone, outside on the balcony to her old bedroom in her parent's house.

"Red?"

Willow frowned, leaning over the guardrail. "Spike?" She smiled.

Spike grinned up at the woman. She was obviously hot: sweat was running down her face and her hair was matted to her skin. She was flushed. "Pet, are you shagging someone on the balcony?"

Willow blushed furiously. "No!" she exclaimed. "Xander and Buffy are inside. We're playing Truth or Dare. Xander dared me to sit outside for half an hour. I've been out here. . ." she looked at her watch and moaned, rubbing her hand across her forehead, "seven minutes."

Spike hiked himself up the trellis, swinging his legs over the guardrail. "You are going to dehydrate or something, Pet." He growled angrily. "Don't your friends bloody care?"

"Spike, it's the hottest weather anyone in Sunnydale has seen in a long while. This isn't normal. It's not like Xander purposely said, 'It's hotter than hell outside. Let's send Willow out there and make her sick.' It's just a game." She crossed her arms, studying him. He had on his normal outfit: tight black jeans, black tee shirt, red unbuttoned shirt, and black leather duster. "Spike, it's almost 105 degrees out here. How can you wear the duster?"

Spike laughed. "My body is roughly 65 degrees, luv. I can wear the coat without getting hot."

"65 degrees?" Willow crossed the balcony to him and stroked his cheek. "Almost cold," she murmured. Her face lit up with an idea. "Take off your clothes."

"What?" Spike asked, cocking an eyebrow in surprise.

Willow pulled off her shirt, her breasts perky under her green lacy bra. "Spike," she whined, "I'm dying from the heat. But if I press my body against yours, your coldness will cool me off." She grinned at him, happy with her brilliant logic.

"Are you serious?"

In answer Willow wiggled out of her jeans. They were difficult to pull off because of all the sweat on her skin. She threw them aside and stretched out on the lawn chair. "Well?" she asked.

"You really are serious."

"We've been through this, Spike," Willow said, waving her hand at him. "I only have twenty minutes left. All you have to do is take off your clothes and let me wrap my body around yours."

Spike started pulling his duster off. "I thought you were the self-conscious one, pet."

"Spike," she said, sitting up, "it's too hot to be self-conscious. Feel my skin." She grabbed his hand and pulled it to her cheek.

"Pet, you are burning up!"

"It's hot everywhere," she said softly, looking up at him, running his fingers down her neck. He traced her collarbone gently, then ran the pad of his thumb over the hollow of her throat. He stood up.

"Well, I'll be glad to help, pet..." he said kicking off his boots, "but you owe me."

She laughed. "Right, Spike. I'll remember that the next time you need my help with something."

Spike took off both of his shirts, throwing them to the side. He unbuttoned the first button on his pants. "Red, I have to tell you something."

"What?" Willow asked, running the washcloth over her chest.

Spike couldn't take his eyes off the green square of cotton, wishing it were him rubbing over her. He shook his head to clear it. < No, no Red thoughts, > he thought. < She is human. > "Huh?" he asked.

"You have to tell me something?"

"Oh, right. I. . .I go Commando."

"Commando?" Willow frowned, not understanding.

Spike dropped his pants.

"Oh!" Willow said, blushing furiously, as she just stared. As she was sitting down and he was standing up his semi hard cock was right at eyelevel. "Uh, yea," Willow said, not looking away from the thick member. "That's ok. I can ignore it if you can."

Spike smirked, stepping out of his pants. He snapped his fingers in front of her face. "I'm up here, pet," he said.

She looked up, her face red with embarrassment. "Right," she said. "Yep, up there. Hey." She lay back, closing her eyes. She waited.

< This would be so easy. Damn the chip, > Spike thought. He lay next to her, wrapping her in his arms.

"Oh, goddess," she whispered, shivering at his touch. "You feel good against my skin." She put her head on his chest, closing her eyes. "I don't even need an air conditioner with you here." She ran her fingertips along his side absentmindedly.

Spike closed his eyes and tried not to think about the warm human body in his arms. She was beautiful. He was amazed at how well she fit against his body. "Bloody amazing," he murmured.

"What?" she whispered.

"I never thought that anyone would fit against me as good as Dru did."

She looked up at him and smiled. "You think we fit well together?"

"Perhaps," he said. He ran his fingers down her cheek. "You are cooling off."

"You're helping a lot," she said softly. "It's weird, I guess I've never touched you before."

"No, pet, you haven't. Why? Am I different than anyone else?"

"You are cool," she said. "But not too cold. I guess I thought with the whole dead body thing that you would be ice cold."

"Nope. Of course, I'm warmer after I feed, but I'm pretty much always this temperature. It doesn't bother you?"

"No," she said, pressing her chest into his. He groaned softly, feeling her rock hard nipples. "My body seems to be. . .responding to it." She smiled wantonly at him.

Spike ran his fingers along her side and lowered his face to her neck. He ran his tongue along her skin, tasting the salty sweat. "Pet, you taste wonderful," he growled.

She giggled, the feel of his rough tongue teasing her skin. He blew softly on the skin, making goose bumps and causing her to moan softly. "Everyone needs their own vamp to keep them cool on hot nights."

"No, not everyone," he murmured against her skin. "Only you."