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Disgusting pig!, Buffy thought to herself as she watched Spike on the dance floor of the Bronze with what was probably the fifth girl this week. And it was Wednesday. If any other vamp had been captured by the government and rendered incapable of harming humans, they would be devastated, possibly even dead through starvation, but not Spike. Nope. For Spike, when one door closed, a window opened, and that window had apparently opened into a room full of skanky hoes who couldn’t seem to get enough of him. Buffy hadn’t seen him without a girl for a single day of the three months he‘d been back, and she'd watched him diligently, every night that she could, waiting for him to make a mistake. She'd looked on in disgust as girl after girl threw themselves at him like he was some kind of a movie star instead of a cold-blooded killer. Any of you bitches ever heard of a little thing called self-restraint? Obviously not.
Said bitches seemed to come in almost every variety. Buffy had always assumed that when Spike moved on to another girl, he'd end up with some scrawny, black-haired, heroine-chic Dru wannabe, but nowadays it seemed the only criteria required from Spike was that they be female. Tall, short, thin, plump, Spike had nearly run the gamut. The only gals who hadn't yet made the cut had been her fellow blondes, and Buffy refused to acknowledge that it made her feel vaguely insulted. Shaken from her inner musings as the song ended, Buffy glared at the object of her ire as he managed to peel away his skank du jour in order to make his way to the bar where he walked right past where the slayer was standing, pointedly ignoring her while he ordered his slut and himself a drink.
Per their usual tete a tete, Buffy took advantage of their close proximity to needle him a bit. “Ya know what you could do? You could buy those lame packs of underwear with the days of the week on them, and then you could give one out to each of the hopeless morons you plan on screwing that week. It would be kinda like your very own sleazy itinerary. Right up your alley", she added with a humorless grin.
Deigning only to give her the most passing of glances, Spike raised an annoyed eyebrow. “Huh, well seeing as how it was your idea, Slayer, what exactly does that say about you?”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Spike. I was just trying to help you out. I’d hate to see you lose any appendages by getting caught in the middle of some crazy bitch fight when you accidentally overbook.”
Spike barely disguised his chuckle as his lips tilted in a wicked grin. “Ta, Slayer. Didn’t realize you cared so much about my appendages. Tell me, which one is your favorite? Bet I can guess.”
Buffy's fist practically burned to beat the pervy look off his face. “Pffft! Don’t flatter yourself! There’s no telling where any of your appendages have been. Hell, the places I know about are enough to turn my stomach all on their own! And aside from that, I wouldn’t be caught dead with you in that outfit. I mean, seriously, who wears a snakeskin jacket? Where the hell did you even get that hideous thing?”
“Oi! Insult me all you like, Slayer, but leave the jacket out of it. I’ll have you know, this jacket once belonged to Mick Jagger. He gave it to me on the night I met him at Studio 54 .Told him I really liked it, an’ he told me to keep it.”
It was all she could do not to giggle out loud at the mental picture of Spike in a shiny polyester suit, shaking his sexy ass to the BeeGees, just before silently scolding herself. Do NOT even THINK of ANY part of him being sexy! Out loud, she continued, mockingly, “Riiigght. Why the hell would Mick Jagger give you anything?”
The vampire gave a wistful smile as his whole demeanor drifted into flashback mode. “Had us a grand old night. Me, him, some ginger bird. Can’t rightly recall her name, but come to think of it, your friend Red reminds me of her a bit. She look anything like her Mum? Love to give HER a ring, let me tell you.”
Okay! I officially couldn't find him more repulsive! “You know, they really should invent a new phrase to describe you, because ‘disgusting....DEVIANT... pervert’ couldn't even BEGIN cover it!”
Spike chuckled lightly, tucking his tongue behind his teeth in that totally NOT sexy way that irked the hell out of the Slayer. “Right, so it’s strictly missionary for you an’ Captain Cardboard then? Duly noted. Can‘t say I blame him. I wouldn‘t want to share you either. ”
Her cheeks reddened at his promising leer, and Buffy found herself fervently wishing for burning laser vision. “You know what? I wouldn’t worry too much about what I’m sharing with who, if I were you. I think you’ve got enough to juggle with all of the sharing you’ve been doing lately!”
Spike clenched his jaw, his own eyes ready to burn right through her. “Tell me, your royal prudeness, why is it that you give a bloody damn anyway? We both know I can’t harm a hair on any of their pretty little heads. I ‘m not hurtin’ anyone. Just tryin’ to get some of my own back. Can’t kill em, might as well f…”
“DO NOT finish that sentence! I REALLY don’t want to hear about it!” Buffy slung her hair off her shoulder in irritation.”
Spike regarded her silently for a moment, his eyes narrowing in some newly discovered wisdom as a small but genuine grin formed on his lips. “Ya know, Slayer, I’m beginnin’ to think you do. I see you watchin’ me night after night, even though you bloody well know I’m not a threat to anyone. So what is it, really?" He paused to look her up and down for a moment, considering. "You know what I think? I think, perhaps, you’re just a little brassed off that I never asked YOU to fill a slot. If it means so much to you, I s’pose I could pencil you…”
His words were cut off by a mighty right hook to the nose. “PIG!”
His date, who had been monitoring the conversation between the two blondes closely, came running up and poked Buffy in the chest. “Hey, girlie! You keep your hands off him, or I’ll…”
Buffy fixed her with an icy glare. “Or you’ll what?”
The girl, a tall, big-breasted Amazon, whom Buffy didn’t recognize, just stared at her blankly for a moment, and then widened her eyes and laughed, incredulous. “Huh, ya know, in high school, people always said you were a crazy bitch. Guess they were right!” Turning to Spike, the girl cupped his cheek, simultaneously worshipping and appraising. “You okay, baby?”
Spike smiled a little, never taking his eyes off Buffy. “Yeah, luv. Don’t worry ‘bout old Spike. Me an’ Goldilocks here go way back. This is just what we do. It’s a thing. Besides, can’t say I didn’t have it comin’.” His eyes softened into something that looked almost apologetic as he addressed the bane of his existence. “You an’ I will just have to dance another day, Slayer.”
It was then that Buffy realized that a crowd had gathered to watch the drama unfold, and her stomach clenched in embarrassment. The bartender, who’d made his way over in case he had to break up a fight, clapped Spike soundly on the shoulder in obvious camaraderie. “You okay, man?”
Spike, looking uncharacteristically sheepish, grunted, “Yeah, mate. I’ve had worse.” The bartender laughed, loudly, without even a trace of fear at the bleached menace. “Glad to hear it. Now I get to say I told you so, AND you totally owe me fifty bucks.” Clearly, Buffy hadn't been the only one to notice Spike and his endless parade of floozies. Slapping the vampire good naturedly on the back, the burly man made his way back to the opposite end of the bar, laughing uproariously as he took several reluctantly surrendered twenties from a few surrounding patrons.
Completely humiliated, Buffy turned and began to elbow her way through the gawking crowd towards the table where her friends had been sitting, only to find Xander and Willow making their way to her. They met halfway, Xander throwing an arm around her shoulders. “You okay, Buffster?" When she shrugged halfheartedly, he just squeezed her a little tighter, adding, "You know, just say the word, and I’ll drag Deadboy Jr.’s ass out into the alley right now.”
Buffy shook her head, frowning. “Thanks, but I think I’ve caused enough of a scene tonight. I mean, it’s bad enough that the entire bar thinks I was fighting over HIM.” She looked at her friends, pleading. “Please, tell me that whole scene did NOT look exactly like that other girl and I were having a cat fight over Spike.”
Xander gave a sheepish grin and shrugged apologetically. “I wish I could say no, Buff, but even I was half expecting to see some hair pulling and torn blouses and…”
Willow hissed, “XANDER! Not helping!”
“Sorry.” Xander’s puppy dog eyes were sympathetic.
Buffy just shook her head. “It’s my fault. I should’ve known better than to hit him in here. He just makes me SO mad, what with the innuendos about Willow’s mom and stuff. I just…lose it every time I see his stupid face.”
Willow’s eyebrows creased in confusion. “How does he know my Mom?”
Buffy gave an exasperated sigh. “He doesn’t, Will. He just….You know what, never mind. You don’t wanna know. Trust me.” There’s no way I’ll EVER be explaining that one. "Look, guys, I think I’ve had enough fun for one night. And by fun, I mean utter humiliation. I’m just gonna do a quick patrol and call it a night.”
“Ya want us to come with?” The red-haired witch's offer was genuine, but the slayer couldn’t help but note Willow’s slight turn towards the table where Tara stared at Anya in apparent shock as the former demon regaled her with some most likely perverse and/or violent anecdote.
“Thanks Wills, but I‘ll go this one alone. What with Riley tagging along lately, it’s been a few weeks since I went out by myself, and since he's off doing the soldier thing tonight, I'm choosing to take that as a sign that this is the night to catch up on some good old me time, ya know?”
Willow nodded, understanding, and Xander promised to ‘keep an eye on Captain Peroxide’ for her. Buffy smiled gratefully and said her goodbyes as she made her way to the exit, completely unaware that the vamp in question had been watching her the whole time.
+++++++++++
The soldiers attacked just as she entered Restfield cemetery. Ordinarily, they’d have never stood a chance, not even with the ten of them there, but it had never actually occurred to Buffy that Riley Finn, the guy she called her boyfriend, would ever be capable of such an underhanded thing. So then, by default, it also never occurred to her that he and his men would attempt to capture her in order to make her one of Maggie Walsh’s “experiments.” The thought never entered her mind, that Riley, who’d taken her out on a romantic picnic and promised to take her for a drive past the vineyards, who’d met her mother, who she’d had sex with, would place more importance on following orders than protecting a girlfriend, not even one that he claimed to have strong feelings for, because Buffy, in spite of all of the horrible things she’d seen in her short life, still believed in the inherent goodness of humanity. Therefore, when she saw Riley and a couple of his Initiative pals walking towards her, she only felt mildly annoyed that her “me” time was being interrupted once again. She never even heard the others sneaking up behind her with Tasers.
She didn’t even get a chance to ask Riley what they were doing there before Forrest had her on the ground. As she went down, Riley felt a twinge of guilt, which must have shown on his face. Forrest clasped his friend‘s shoulder reassuringly. “Look Ri, you said yourself, she’s way too strong to be human.”
“I know. It’s just, especially out like that, she just looks so…”
Forrest moved to meet his eyes directly. “Riley man, you know as well as I do that some of these things look human. Hell, she’s not even the first good lookin’ hostile we’ve had to take down! Remember all that training we went through? They told us that this would happen eventually, that we would come across some who looked and acted human, that didn’t seem evil? But they are, man, and the second you let yourself forget that, your career, hell, maybe even your life is over! Do you really want that?”
As always, Forrest made perfect sense. “You’re right. I KNOW you’re right.” Riley slapped him on the back. “Thanks, buddy.”
Forrest gave a small nod as he crouched to the ground to put some standard-issue demon strength restraints on his friend‘s soon to be ex. “Any time, bro. We’re all here for each other, right?”
Just as he bent down, a black and white blur came out of nowhere, knocking him twenty feet across the cemetery. It was over as almost as quickly as it began, and ten men were on the ground, bleeding, some of them knocked out with their own Tasers, but, much to the chagrin of their assailant, all very much alive. Riley, who just happened to be sprawled nearest to their attacker, just before he blacked out, heard a deep, vaguely familiar, British-sounding voice grumble, “ If it wouldn’t mean brassin’ off the Slayer, I’d crack every bloody one of your skulls open. Bloody wankers, gangin’ up on a slip of a girl, even if she is stronger’n you. Dirty pool.”
The slayer in question, who had only just regained consciousness, was snapped to immediate, yet slightly foggy-due-to-electrocution awareness by a voice that was almost as familiar as her own; a voice which belonged to a certain bleached blonde pain in the ass vampire who‘d thankfully been rendered impotent, so there was NO way. It couldn’t be… “SPIKE?!”
Buffy leaped to her feet to confront him only to fall into his arms as her body reacted negatively to the sudden movement. For a few seconds, as her equilibrium gradually returned, she clutched his biceps for support as he stared down at her with what appeared to be concern. She stared back up at him, allowing her brain to play catch up, and when it did, she pushed herself away from him in shock and fury. “You- your chip! It stopped working!” Buffy’s gut clenched, and a pained expression ghosted over her eyes. “When did this happen?”
Spike gestured around emphatically around at the fallen men, and made a shushing gesture with his finger, while indicating with a twitch of his head that she should follow him. They walked on through the cemetery in silence until Spike was reasonably sure they couldn’t be overheard, and then turned to Buffy, his hands up in a placating gesture. “Now, Slayer, I want you to hear me out, an’ do bear in mind that I haven’t harmed not one single soul since I got back to town. Not even the whelp, an’ he’s bloody well deserved it more’n a time or two. Just want your promise that you’ll at least let me have my say before you try to stake me.”
Buffy stared daggers at him as her rage at his deception began to build. She pushed aside the feeling of betrayal, flatly refusing to acknowledge it. Spike, however, could read her emotions as plain as day, and he had to suppress his irritation at her. After all, he was technically in the wrong in this situation. He should’ve known he wouldn’t be able to keep this a secret for long, not with these amped up G.I. Joes millin’ about, but there was nothing for it now. Walking backwards as Buffy began stalking towards him, Spike held up his hands in surrender. “First of all, Slayer, I see the look you’re givin’ me, an’ it’s NOT like that. Wasn’t plottin’ against you or anything of the sort. Always assuming the worst, you are. Not that a bloke could blame you, but it wasn’t like that. I just couldn’t…I didn’t….I didn’t know how to explain myself.”
“Hmmm, lemme see if I can help you out with that one! You could begin with the beginning part where you’re a total lying liar, and go from there!”
Spike sighed heavily at the expected quip. “Fine, but first, take your hand off your stake. I don’t wanna fight you. Just got done savin’ your hide.” Buffy raised her eyebrows at him in warning, but remained silent, crossing her arms as she impatiently waited for him to begin. He didn’t quite decide to just blurt it out, but that’s what happened. “Ineverhadachip!”
It took a moment for his garbled words to make sense, but when she finally processed them, Buffy’s eyes went as wide as saucers. “You…what?”
Spike sighed again and braced himself for the pounding he was certainly about to receive. "I…never…had…a…chip. I just heard the story from some poor sod who’d been captured right before he went for a walk in the sunshine, and it seemed like a plausible cover story, so I used it. There. Said it. Now, I’d best be on my way. Later, Slayer…”
He moved as if to walk away and Buffy grabbed his arm. “Nah-uh. Back up. What the hell do you mean, you NEVER had a chip? Why the hell would you pretend that you’d been rendered helpless?” Buffy’s blood ran cold as she remembered the night she’d found out about his chip, and she tried to suppress the memory of how he’d allowed her to beat on him for nearly ten minutes before she realized he wasn’t fighting back, of how he‘d laughed, even as he winced in pain, when it dawned on her that she was beating the hell out of someone who was basically defenseless. Now to find out that he could have, but didn’t… “I mean, that’s…it doesn’t…” Her eyes widened and she glared at him, accusing, “Unless… You WERE plotting against me, or …” Realization seemed to dawn. “Oh, God. You’ve been DRINKING from all those girls! They’re like, bloodletting fetish freaks, aren’t they?”
Spike huffed as if the notion of him biting anyone was farfetched and utterly ridiculous. “Please, Slayer. Like I haven’t noticed you checkin’ ‘em for bite marks, an’ don’t think I don’t know about you strikin’ up a little casual conversation with more than a few of ‘em about how you like bein’ bitten an’ wonderin’ if they were into it too. Gotta say, you nearly made one of the poor little chits cry. She’d never heard of such a thing, and thought you were a deranged psychopath. At any rate, you an’ I both know that’s not what’s happenin‘, but I couldn’t tell you the real reason, could I?”
Buffy glared at him. “Fine. You’re right. I DO know that you’re not biting the vamp hoes, but you shouldn’t have lied to me, and you ARE gonna tell me the real reason, or I’m gonna beat it out of you. So start talking, fang face.”
Spike raised an eyebrow and held his left hand up, revealing a big, ugly, old looking ring with a green gemstone that seemed to glow in the moonlight. “This, love, is the gem of Amara. Dug it up a few months ago when I first came back. It’s like the Holy Grail for vamps, so I went lookin’ for it , cos it was supposed to hold this enormous power, and long story short, found it, and it does, only not exactly the way it was depicted.”
Now Buffy really was listening as she felt her stomach clench in apprehension. “What does it do, EXACTLY?”
Spike pursed his lips, crossed his arms, and stared down at his feet for a moment, as if contemplating what to say next, and then he looked up, his face in a rarely set visage of total seriousness. “Well, for one thing, it renders the wearer virtually invincible."
“What does that mean, ‘virtually’? Buffy took a step back from the blonde vampire in alarm, who then gave her an exasperated look.
“Don’t have to do that, Slayer. Let me remind you, again, that I saved your luscious little arse not five minutes ago. What it means is, as long as it’s attached to my person, I can’t be killed or harmed by anyone or anything…that I know of. So far, I’ve been able to walk in the sun, hold crosses, drink holy water…basically all of your traditional methods of killing my kind have been rendered useless in regards to yours truly. And then there’s the side effect…” He trailed off, noting the shocked disbelief in the Slayer's expression.
Buffy was dumbfounded. She honestly didn’t know whether to believe him or not. How could he just be calmly standing there telling her that she was essentially powerless against him, and if it were true, why hadn’t he killed her yet? He COULDN’T be telling the truth about any of it. He just…couldn’t.
As always, Spike was right there with her, reading her like a book. “Don’t believe me? Wanna give ol’ Spike a little poke an’ see what happens? She raised an eyebrow in irritation at him, and was about to retort when he held up a hand. “With the stake, of course…you dirty girl.”
Buffy glared at him and huffed in anger, “You know what? I kinda do.” She took her stake out of the back of her skirt and stomped towards him, determined to rid the world of that irritating smirk once and for all.
The ferocity of her eyes sent the vampire back a few paces. “Hold on, now! Gotta take my jacket off. Don’t want to get a hole in it.”
Buffy crossed her arms, stake in hand, tapping her foot irritably as she waited for him to remove his jacket, which he draped delicately over a nearby headstone. Then, as if it were an afterthought, he quickly snagged his black t-shirt over his head and tossed it beside the jacket. Once that task was complete, he turned to her and said, “Ok, now.” And then, with a smirk, he held his arms up to the sides, exposing his bare chest and exclaimed with monotone faux theatrics, “Just do it. Take me out of a world that has you in it.”
Instead of attacking him as she normally would, she walked forward hesitantly. She stood there for a second, scowling at him, as he stood there calmly, arms out, smirking as he waited for her to make her move. Then, finally, she pouted and asked, “Aren’t you even gonna try to defend yourself?"
He shook his head, clearly amused. “No, Slayer. Free shot. Go on, take it.”
This made her scowl deepen even more as she glared at his bare, well-muscled chest, the sight of which sparked her ire for reasons she didn’t want to consider. Forcing her eyes up to his, she asked in an exasperated tone, “What, you’re just gonna stand there?”
Spike’s smile widened as he replied, “Uh, ya.”
Her ire only grew with his grin, and she held her stake up menacingly. “I’m gonna do it, Spike. I’m gonna stab you right in the heart." She reared her arm back, fully intent on putting the piece of wood through his chest, but her traitorous arm simply refused to cooperate.
After a few seconds, Spike finally asked, “Are ya just gonna stand there staring like an imbecile all night, Slayer, or are you gonna do the deed?”
Buffy’s eyes widened and she huffed incredulously, “ME? YOU’RE the one begging me to stake you! If anybody’s the imbecile, it’s YOU! I’m just waiting for you to make a move or something, at least TRY to stop me....Besides", she paused, looking around as if an excuse would somehow miraculously appear from thin air, " it’s no fun trying to kill you of you’re not even gonna fight back!”
Spike snorted and rolled his eyes, and then exclaimed, “Fine! Have it your way!” Then, in the blink of an eye, he wrapped his hands around her upraised fist and drove the stake right into his own heart. Buffy let out a little squeak of shock that also held the barest hint of dismay, as Spike simultaneously let out a little groan of pain. They just stood there for a moment, locked in their deadly little embrace, as Buffy's hands refused to let go of the stake embedded in the vampire's chest. All she could do was stand there, gripping the piece of wood with all her might as she stared at it and tried not to think of Angel with a sword through his chest, or why the two incidents bore any comparison.
Shocked by the distress he sensed from her, Spike was also frozen for a moment. He'd teased her about secretly fancying him, but he'd never dreamed it might actually be true. However, as he looked down at her horrified expression, the foolish little voice in his head couldn't help but whisper, perhaps. Then, realizing he was being a bloody wanker, he shook himself mentally and broke their little spell of silence by pasting on a crooked grin and saying, “Don't worry, love. It tickles, in a fun way."
Buffy leaped back immediately at his words, angered by the unanticipated fear his action had caused. "WORRIED”, she huffed with contrived incredulity," I was SO...NOT worried. And, anyway, that doesn't prove anything. Maybe you just missed! Maybe you're just as crappy at trying to kill yourself as you are at trying to kill me!"
Feigning nonchalance, Spike shrugged as casually as anyone possibly could with a stake protruding from his chest. "Fine. Don't believe me? Don't care, but be a love and pull it out, would you?"
Wrinkling her nose, Buffy gave her head a little shake. "No way! I've decided to take the rest of the night off. Besides, why should I get all bloody when YOU'RE the idiot who stabbed yourself?! You pull it out!"
Sighing heavily, Spike replied, "I would, if I could lift my bloody arm! I think I severed a tendon or something, an' it won't mend til the stake's out."
"Hello! Use your other arm, dummy!"
"C'mon, Slayer. If I pull it out with my opposite arm, then it'll come out at an odd angle that'll hurt even more'n just pullin' it straight out." Giving her a pleading look, he grumbled, "Just saved your bloody life. Seems like the very least you could do."
Frowning deeply at him, Buffy replied, "See, I KNEW there was a catch. You're gonna hold that over my head forever, aren't you?" Then, before he could reply, she cut him off. "Ya know what, fine, but if you bleed on this blouse, you're buying me a new one!"
She stomped over to him, mumbling, "big baby", under her breath, and went to grab for the stake, but Spike jumped back. "Hold on now! Carefully! Don't just go snatchin' it out!"
Buffy rolled her eyes. "I thought you were supposed to be almost invincible!"
"I am!" he shouted back. "Doesn't mean it don't hurt like bloody hell if you try rippin' it out like some ham fisted buffoon!"
Buffy closed her eyes and counted to ten, stamping down her outrage as she painted on a placating grin and held her hands up in a peaceful gesture. As calmly as possible, she assured in a nearly angelic voice, "Ok Spike. Calm down. I'll be careful...I promise."
Spike eyed her suspiciously, but put his hands down as she walked towards him again. With as innocent an expression as she could muster, she reached out as if to grab the stake gently. Then, before he had time to react, she gave it a sharp twist and snatched it out as hard as she could, causing him to howl in agony. "Bloody Christ, woman! Always knew you were a fuckin' sadist!"
It was right on the tip of Buffy's tongue to tell him how truly pathetic he was when her words were cut short with an astonished gasp. Right before her eyes, the wound in Spike's chest began to rapidly mend itself, and within seconds had disappeared completely, without a trace.
All she could do was stare open mouthed at the unblemished spot on his chest as the irritating vampire’s eyes twinkled merrily, his mouth twisted in a knowing smirk. “Ready to believe me now, pet?” Buffy didn’t reply, just walked up to him and poked the spot on his chest with her finger disbelievingly. She poked it a few times more just to be sure, and then looked up into his laughing eyes. “Done proddin’ me now? Care to examine me anywhere else?” he added suggestively, before tucking his tongue behind his teeth.
Buffy scowled at him, and then jabbed him hard in the same spot with her knuckle, causing him to wince lightly. Not giving him time to start whining, again, Buffy said, “You know I have to tell the gang about this, right?”
Spike scowled back. “An’ why would you HAVE to do that?”
Turning back to the grave where Spike had left his jacket and shirt, she picked them up, throwing them haphazardly in his direction, ignoring his “Oi!” of protest, as she replied, “ Because if you’re gonna start helping us, then they deserve full disclosure, that’s why.”
Irritated by his precious jacket nearly touching the ground, Spike frowned at her. “An’ what makes you think I will?”
Instead of answering him directly, Buffy asked, “Spike, why did you save me tonight? I mean, after all the times you’ve tried to kill me, and after all the times I’ve kicked your ass, pretty spectacularly if I do say so myself, why didn’t you just let Riley and his boys haul me off and do....whatever.....? ”, she literally shuddered to think of it.
Spike didn’t hesitate with his answer. “ Because you’re a warrior, an’ you deserve to go out fightin’, not trapped in a cage and experimented on like some lab rat, ‘specially not by the likes of THOSE bloody cowards, who didn’t even have the stones to take you on like real men, sneakin’ up on you like that. You don’t know how much I wanted to kill every one of those bastards. Could practically taste the blood runnin’ down my throat!”
Making a mildly disgusted face at that last part, Buffy let it pass and went on, “Right, and how many men do you think they’ll use to sneak up on me next time?”
Spike made a pained face at that as his entire demeanor shifted, and in that moment, the reality of the situation truly struck home. Buffy didn’t know why or how, but somewhere along the way, Spike had switched teams. It didn’t make sense, and shouldn’t have been possible. Up until an hour before, she would’ve sworn that it COULDN’T have been possible, but if actions spoke louder than words, then tonight, Spike’s actions had narrated volumes about the kind of man that he really was. Riley’s had as well, leaving Buffy certain of only one thing, that she’d horribly misjudged them both, and that lack of judgment had nearly cost her everything- would have if Spike hadn‘t intervened. The moment she allowed herself to realize that, she vowed then and there not to make the same mistake twice.
Buffy gave a deep, resigned sigh and began, “Look, Spike, I know I can’t make you help, but as much as I hate to admit it, I could really use you in this. I think if tonight’s proven anything, it’s that I need someone strong to watch my back, and, it’s pretty obvious at this point that not only have you done your homework on these guys, but that you know a hell of a lot more than I do. I mean...I thought....I didn’t....” Her words trailed off as she became choked by her own unshed tears. She turned her back to Spike, not wanting him to see.
"Don't shed a tear for that bastard, love. You're worth a thousand of him. Just have wretched taste in men, is all. Never thought I'd un- live to see the day you could possibly do worse than Peaches, but you've proved another theory wrong yet again."
Turning to glare at him, Buffy snapped, "Ya know, comforting words from you? Not so much!"
Spike raised an eyebrow, and with a sly grin, replied, "Perhaps, but you don't feel like cryin' any more, do ya?"
Buffy's eyes shone brightly with agitation as she fairly growled, "I violently dislike you."
Spike bit his lip in an ill-concealed attempt to hide his smirk. "Yeah, yeah. Heard it all before, luv. For someone who spends so much time blathering about how much she hates me, you seemed awfully concerned a moment ago when you thought I'd gone all suicidal."
Buffy's eyes were on fire. "I. WAS. NOT!"
Spike inched a little closer, and in a sing-song voice, replied, "Yeah ya were..." He held up his snakeskin jacket. "In fact, I'd be willin' to bet this one of a kind piece of rock n' roll history that you woulda wept like a baby if I'd actually dusted. C'mon. You love me. Just admit it."
"First of all...,” Buffy accentuated her point with a sharp jab to his chest, " I think we've established that I will NEVER, EVER want that jacket. Like ever. Secondly...mmmph!" Her second point was forever lost to Spike Lips, capturing her own in a kiss that completely derailed her train of thought as the vampire dropped rock and roll history to the ground in favor of gently cupping her face. His feather light caresses on her cheeks sent a wave of pure rapture through her that turned her knees to jello, forcing Buffy to grab Spike's forearms to steady herself as her tongue danced with his. By the time Buffy ran out of air, they were completely wrapped around one another, Buffy's arms around Spike's neck, his around her waist, their foreheads touching as they both gasped for breath.
Spike was the first to recover, and began kissing Buffy's jaw line as he made his way to her neck. When he reached the curve into her shoulder, he whispered gruffly, "Want you."
Running her hands lightly back and forth along his muscular, still bare back, Buffy shuddered as he lightly licked her neck. "Spike", she said in a breathy moan, "Don't. This can only end badly."
Spike continued kissing back up her neck until they were face to face. Touching his forehead back to hers, he began lightly stroking her spine with the back of his fingers, causing her to shudder again. Buffy stroked the soft hair at the base of his neck. "Aren't you even a little worried about this? It's going to be impossible. They won't let us have this."
"They who", he whispered softly into her neck.
"Everyone. My friends, the universe, whichever sick bastard writes the story of my life who's obviously decided that I can't have anything remotely of the good. I mean, hello? My boyfriend just let his buddy Taser me. Buffy and relationships are unmixy things."
Spike gave her a sad smile. "Well, you know what they say. Nothin' worth havin' is easy, an' all that. 'Sides, there's nothin' like a little invincibility to boost a man's sense of daring." He paused for a few moments, just staring into her eyes as he seemed to be listening to something she couldn't hear, then added, " No sense dwellin' in the what-if's, yeah? If anything, knowin' it could literally all go to hell tomorrow's all the more reason to get the most out of tonight. Come home with me."
Buffy knew a line when she heard it, but that didn't make it any less true. "Okay."
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
There was a moment of hesitation when Buffy took in the whole seduction scene that Spike had going on in his bedroom. Rumpled black satin sheets and candles on every surface were the main focal points, and Buffy began backtracking as she thought of every girl who'd been in this room, on that bed. But, per usual, psychic Spike was tuned in. "Never brought anyone here but you, love." He gathered her in his arms, cupping her cheek so that she would look into his eyes. "I swear. You're the first. The only.
" "The only? As in ever?"
"And ever."
"Oh." A reasonable kind of girl would've been at least a little suspicious of such a declaration coming from anyone as promiscuous as him, let alone a vampire, but reason and Buffy had parted ways earlier that night in the middle of a cemetery. Then he was kissing her again, their clothes being pulled away without Buffy noticing, until they were falling onto the bed and her bare back made contact with cool satin.
Spike's lovemaking was like the rest of him, playful, challenging, oddly verbose. Angel and Riley never talked during sex. Parker had, but in retrospect, had come across as obviously rehearsed. But Spike seemed unaware, completely lost in the moment, uttering words of nearly worshipful praise as his lips tenderly worshiped every part of her. "So lovely. Wanted you for so long. Since the first time I saw you, wanted to taste every golden inch of you.", and he did, each cool, damp dot on her flesh making her shiver.
He was silent when his eyes met her bare mound, and Buffy couldn't tear her eyes away as he placed his face directly over it, his thumbs spreading her lips out, giving him full access. However, instead of diving right in as Buffy had anticipated, he paused, looking down at her with a small wistful grin as he lightly rubbed a thumb tip along her clit, causing her to moan as her hips bucked in anticipation. Spike didn't look up, but gave the usual wry smirk that never failed to irritate as his fingers continued their teasing trail. Flushing from a combination of frustration, arousal and embarrassment at such intimate scrutiny, Buffy huffed, " Ya know, it's not gonna, like, do a trick or anything so....Oh!" She forgot the rest of her quip as she became wholly focused on the strong, cool tongue pressing flat against her clit and then stroking upward into a languorous lap that caused her to tense all over in rapture.
Without giving her a chance to relax, Spike splayed his strong hands across her buttocks and lifted her roughly against his mouth, forcing her to throw her arms out across the bed for support. Relentlessly, he alternately lapped and twirled around her swollen nub. When she began to quake helplessly, he rammed two fingers inside her, curling upward to press on the sensitive spot hidden there. Buffy screamed in ecstasy as the cum that his clever tongue failed to capture flooded over his possibly even more clever fingers. "That's it, beautiful girl. Give it to me", he growled against her, causing her to shiver in response. He then resumed his lapping, though at a lighter and more languid pace. But even that was almost too much for her engorged, overly sensitized clit, and her entire body tensed in torturous ecstasy with every light touch of his tongue.
Without warning, he was moving, up and over, their bodies lightly touching as he gracefully slid into position. Buffy moaned into his mouth as his tongue plunged in to meet hers while his cock simultaneously found it's way home. Buffy wrapped her legs around his waist, forcing her hips to relax to accommodate his thick, long cock, which filled her up almost painfully, the tip touching all the way to the entrance of her womb. Buffy pulled away from his mouth to look at him, and his penetrating blue gaze met hers. A pulse seemed to be enveloping them, keeping time with his slow thrusts, and her hips moved of their own volition, rising to match his movements. It wasn't long until their movements became faster, and their bodies, lightly coated with sweat, began gyrating in a shared frantic rhythm. Her second orgasm of the night caught her by surprise and she clenched tightly at the exquisite intrusion, causing him to groan, but not to slow down in the least.
"That's it, kitten. Squeeze me with that lovely cunt." He pounded her even harder, and yet another orgasm ripped through her, right on the tail of the other one, and still Spike continued, whispering filthy little encouraging words, pistoning in and out of her at a punishing pace, causing her whole body to shake. Buffy reached above her, grabbing at a steel spindle on the headboard for some kind of support, only to feel it crack and buckle slightly. Spike only grinned devilishly at the sound of his headboard splitting. “Gonna need somethin' sturdier, I wager", he managed to gasp, as he continued hammering into the hot little heaven of his slayer's quim. "Burn me up, baby. Wanna feel you come again."
Buffy moaned, tears of frustration slipping from the corners of her closed eyes, her whole body taut with pending release. "Spike! I need...I can't...."
Her eyes opened and burned into his once again. "Come with me." With a growl, Spike reared back to rest on his knees, dragging her along without breaking either contact or his pace. Grabbing her hips, he pounded into her impossibly harder as his gaze held hers. Something rippled between them and Spike was dumbstruck when Buffy reached up to stroke his cheek as she softly whispered his name. In moments, they were both wailing, their bodies caught together in an arc of simultaneous release. Spike collapsed on top of her with a moan, burying his face in her neck. Buffy's arms were the only thing that seemed to still work, and she wrapped them around him, twining her fingers into the damp curls at the base of his neck. They lay like that for several minutes, neither of them willing to break the feeling of satiated bliss enveloping them. Buffy turned her head slightly, hugging Spike to her in a death grip. With a slight shudder, she managed to whisper in a trembling sigh, "perfect", before drifting off into an exhausted slumber.
Hours later, Buffy awoke with a horrified gasp. She looked frantically to her right, only to give a shuddering sigh of relief to see Spike beside her, sleeping peacefully on his stomach, facing her. Only a dream, she admonished herself. Spike's not Angel. Buffy stared at the beautiful man beside her, taking in his mussed curls, deceptively innocent countenance and well-muscled torso. She found herself smiling at the sight of two perfect dimples at the top of his ass, wanting to bend down and lick them, but not wanting to wake the sleeping vampire. He was gonna have a busy day, that would most likely end with the two of them being yelled at by well-meaning friends, not to mention a mother who wasn't too keen on boyfriends of the non-pulse having variety.
She just watched him sleep for a couple of minutes, unmoving, until her bladder was practically screaming at her. As she moved to get out of bed, she brushed up against a plastic package, obviously placed for her to find. With a thoughtful pout, she pulled the package open to find seven pairs of bikini briefs in her size, perfectly white, save for a word artfully scrawled in black felt tip marker across the backside of each pair in swirling, old-fashioned script. Picking up the pair on top, she read, Monday. Each pair underneath was scribed with each day of the week. With a confused smile, she picked up the accompanying note and read:
Pet,
Bet you’re wondering what this is all about. You’ve probably entirely forgotten our conversation from earlier last evening, but it was your idea, in a manner of speaking. I probably could’ve found the real thing, if I’d gone out looking, but I was unwilling to leave you for even a moment, and so had to rely on the all-night grocer to deliver what is hopefully an acceptable substitute. You’ll probably think me a fool, but with my brains turned inside out from our absolutely epic love-making, it was the only way I could think to express what’s in my heart, which is, I want you, only you, to have all of my days. It's always been you, from the moment I saw you. Possibly even before, and, if I have any say in the matter, both of our days will be many more.
Yours, Spike
Buffy read the note again, a soft smile on her mouth. Turning to look at the sleeping vampire with a small grin, her eyes alight with happiness and something else she wasn’t quite ready to admit out loud, she shook her head softly and whispered, “Idiot”. The slayer huffed a little laugh as she made her way to the bathroom, taking Thursday with her. She never saw small smile form on the supposedly sleeping vampire’s face.