All About Spike - Plain Version
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Chapter: 1 2 3 4 5
All Over It
Summary: Pre-Lover's Walk, Buffy's gotta stop an apocalypse. Luckily, Spike's back in town and has just the stuff she needs.
Timeline: Early Season 3, post-Revelations, pre-Lover's Walk (which doesn't happen, exactly).
Disclaimer: Buffy, Spike and Sunnydale, et al, are property of Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox Film Corporation. I merely use them as pawns in my perverse fantasies, and sometimes for chores.
Author's Note: After playing several rounds of the Buffy XBox game (which takes place in S3 and has oodles of ooh-baby S/B subtext), Lovebytez came up with this smutty little plot bunny and the title "Intercourse with a Vampire". I ran with it, and as is often the case, went off on a crazy tangent. This fic is dedicated to her.
Distribution: Please ask first - email@example.com.
Feedback: I'm all over it.
Series Started/Completed: February 2003. Wha? How? I don't know.
sake, she headed to the restrooms. Heels clicking down the empty hallway,
she ruminated over what she could possibly say to him. Sorry about
the seizures. Hey, saw what it was like to be you for an hour. Even so,
I still need to kill you because it's my job. Oh and by the way? Loved
the sex. Better than Angel!
Yeah. Best she never, ever see him again.
And wouldn't you know it--just as she finished making that resolution, who should strut down the steps and into her path.
For a few seconds, they froze, staring at each other.
He was the same Spike again. Muscley, alert, and well, gorgeous. Could he tell that her body thrummed with the knowledge of his proximity?
Spike couldn't figure out what was going on in Buffy's head. She wasn't angry...wasn't jumping for joy either... Not that he cared either way... But god, she looked incredible.
He spoke up. "Don't bother with the song and dance, Slayer. I'm leavin' town tonight."
"You have blood on your mouth." It was more observation than accusation.
"Well, yeah," he licked it from his lips, "Vampire, love. Or had you forgotten?"
No, I remember. Give you three guesses why... "I'll never forget that."
He frowned slightly, searching her eyes.
She inhaled and exhaled.
Talk, you pillock. "How'd the big world-saving go?"
"Still here, isn't it?"
He nodded. "Why I helped."
"Right," she said, crossing her arms. "So you could eat people again."
"That was your big selling point, wasn't it? We all do what we have to do." His eyes narrowed. "No matter who we have to suck the life out of in the process."
"Spike... I had no idea that would happen to you."
"Conscience all shiny and clear now? Good for you." He brushed past her.
Acting on instinct, she gripped his leather sleeve and shoved him against the wall. She couldn't let him go. Not yet. For some reason.
He laughed. "Hate to break it to you, pet, but you're not calling the shots tonight." He spun her around and pinned both her wrists to the wall.
Mutual expressions of panic, fear, anger, lust... and with an intake of breath, their mouths met for the very first time.
Moaning desperately, they melted into one another.
She grabbed his coat lapels, hungrily probing his mouth with her tongue. A tinge of metallic in the taste... the taste of someone else's blood... but she couldn't think about that right now.
Knew it'd be like this, he rejoiced inwardly. God, Buffy... His arms slid down, circled around to caress her ass, her back, her hair.
Making out as if it were the end of the world, she thrust her hips forward; he lifted her legs and ground against her. Feeling for the nearest door, he broke the lock and punched it open.
Dark utility closet--perfect. They stumbled in and the door swung closed behind them.
"Buffy," he whispered between kisses.
"Oh, god," she whispered, hating herself, hating him...loving this.
He knocked a row of toilet paper rolls off a shelf, hoisted her on top of it and closed her legs to divest her of her panties, ultimately stuffing them into his jacket pocket.
She allowed him to stand between her legs again, let him hike up her skirt, kiss her neck...
"No little crosses this time, pet."
"Lots of wood in here."
Chuckling, he placed her hand over his hard-on. "Got that right."
She squeezed with one hand, tugged at his belt with the other, gave up and unzipped. Took hold of his cock and brought it out.
He hissed. She arched backward, maneuvering her bottom towards him, guiding him in...
With a groan, he rammed in, up, all the way home.
She cried out.
He licked and sucked at her forbidden neck.
"Oh, god, Spike..."
As their bodies writhed, their tongues mingled, teased. This was turning romantic.
Not right, he told himself. This isn't the way she should be. I got my place. She's got hers.
He pounded into her, making her moan, making the shelf rattle against the wall. "That's right, Buffy, take it, take all of me, like you did that night..."
"Spike, I told you--"
"I don't care," he growled. "And neither should you."
"Say it. Say you don't care," he commanded, shaking her roughly.
He rammed into her, several times, waiting.
She shut her eyes and ground out, "I...don't...care!"
"That a girl," he whispered, and pumped slower, pulling almost fully out, plunging back in.
With an urgent grunt, she grabbed his ass to keep him close, to keep him angled a certain way, to keep his abs rubbing against her swollen clit as she quickly bucked forward.
He knew what she needed. A few more hurried, rhythmic thrusts, and she'd be pushed over the edge.
"Yes, yes, yes!" she encouraged hoarsely, drawing out the last repetition with abandon, letting herself yell for once.
Gonna miss this most of all... With or without that sodding amulet, the Slayer clearly knew how to wrench the Hell out of a bloke.
"Oh, hell, BU--!" Quaking, he collapsed into her, whispering the rest of her name, shooting the last of his dead-but-not-cold semen into her warm depths.
Catching her breath, she tenderly touched his hair.
He moved to her ear. "You're making a mistake."
She whispered, "I don't care."
"I'm leaving tonight."
She took a breath. "I don't care."
He grabbed a fistful of hair at the base of her skull and kissed her.
After several minutes, they grudgingly broke apart.
Spike pulled out, readjusted, and zipped up his pants.
Buffy tried to fix her hair. It had been up in a loose bun, which was now... looser. She could feel the wrinkles in her dress. The bright red flush on her face. She'd really have to stop in the bathroom now.
Spike pulled a chain and the light went on. He looked at her, and down at his feet. "Well. This is it, Slayer."
"Yeah." She cleared her throat and hopped off the shelf. "Where we get off."
He arched a brow, smiling.
With a brief chuckle, she rolled her eyes. "Why didn't I go with 'end of the road'?"
Spike nodded, looked around the tiny room. She was right about the wood--all manner of mops, brooms, two by fours. "So...I get points for saving the world, right? A little non-staking for good behavior?"
She held up a hand. "Just...don't."
"Right." He breathed in, knowing what he had to do--this was a dead end, plain and simple. Emphasis on 'dead'. Even if she was being strangely forgiving now, he knew it wouldn't last. More than anything, though, he wanted to toss her over his shoulder, throw her in his car and take her with him. "Well. Until the next apocalypse, then."
She sighed. "Hope not."
He smirked, said, "Yeah. Hope I never have to see you again," and made for the door.
"Oh, pfft," he waved his hand. "Tore on your heel. Completely ruined. You got no use for 'em."
"And you do?" She smiled and shook her head. "Fine. As long as you don't wear them."
"Maybe just on my head then. Y'know, for a moment of quiet reflection. Not--down the promenade or anything."
"Right," she said with a chuckle.
He stilled, smiled genuinely. Drinking her in. "Take care, Buffy."
"Yeah. You too, Spike."
At that, he walked out of her life.
Buffy found Willow and Xander near the stage. "Hey, guys."
"Buffy! You disappeared! Where'd you go?"
"You guys were worried about me?"
"Well, it was a toss-up between you ditched us, or the toilet monster swallowed you up."
Buffy smiled. "Toilet monster doesn't swallow. Just nibbles a little."
"Aha," he grinned. "Do we get to see the bite marks?"
"I would, but Cordy might get the wrong idea."
"So what really happened?"
She shrugged as if it were nothing. "Ran into a vamp. Turned into this big wrestling match, yadda yadda; see above re: every Tuesday."
"Was it a girl and was there mud? Just let me picture it for a second before you answer."
He snapped his fingers in disappointment. "Oh! Too soon!"
Excitedly, Willow blurted, "Ohh! We also ruled you out as the skank having sex in the utility closet."
A smile froze on Buffy's face. "What?"
"Yeah, you missed it," Xander said. "Someone got lucky tonight. Or, you know, just very drunk and impressionable."
Buffy hoped she wasn't blushing. "Really? How could you tell?"
"Well, noises and things. You know." Willow lowered her voice and leaned in. "Sex noises. I had to forcibly pull Xander away from the door."
"Yep. So it was toilet monster, ditch, or skank. Or, you know," Xander feigned boredom by slumping his shoulders and rolling his eyes, "Killing a vampire and protecting the world."
Buffy shrugged a shoulder. "Sorry to disappoint." Actually it's B and C, plus E, 'Biggest Liar on Earth'...add to that F, 'Worst Slayer Ever' and you've pretty much got me pegged!
"Well, it's good you're back--Dingoes are going on in a few minutes. Uh-oh, Angel alert."
Buffy's eyes widened. She didn't turn. "Where?"
"Just walked in the front. Are you still avoidy?"
"Yeah, I--I can't see him right now." Shower, must shower, right away... "If he asks, can you tell him I felt sick and went home?"
"Thanks. Tell Oz I'm sorry I missed," she apologized, and motored out the back door.
Spike got into his car, shoved the liquor bottles out of the way and patted his chest pockets for his keys. Digging a hand in his hip pocket, he lifted out a pair of lacy panties. Brought it to his nose, breathed in. Shook his head with a smile.
"Til next time, gorgeous."
Finding the keys, he gunned the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, tires screeching. Cruising down the main street, he saw a man walking and slowed to see if he might have a few bucks he could steal... Not likely. It was Angel.
Grinning widely, Spike dangled Buffy's panties out the window and drove off with a whooping holler.
Angel looked up at the speeding car and frowned. Is that...? A scent caught his nose. Is *that*...?
He shook his head. No. No way in hell.
"Buffy." After crashing a Scooby meeting, Angel had cornered her in the library stacks. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Tell you--tell you what?" Remember, innocent until proven slutty...
"About Grosh? I could've helped."
Oh, thank god. "That's okay. He's dead now. Cold and heartless, just like I like 'em."
"Yeah. The witch power thing. Glad that did the trick." He lowered his voice. "But if you'd come to me I could've told you about the legend."
"Legend? Wh--there's a legend?"
"There was a way I could've transferred the source of my power to you."
"Huh?" Have you completely lost your mind?
"I won't get into the details now, but the transfer would've been temporary, only 'til you killed him. And my soul would've cancelled out all the negative consequences for you. I'm surprised Giles didn't know about this."
Stunned, Buffy stared at him. "I could've..."
"Buffy?" Giles called.
She pointed towards her Watcher's voice. "I need to--I'm gonna..."
"Yeah. It doesn't matter anyway. You killed him. That's the important thing," he said, staring at her longingly.
With a nod, Buffy walked numbly out to the main area, Angel following.
"Yes, Buffy, I need you to--"
Suddenly, the library doors swung open, and everyone turned.
Heart racing, Buffy braced herself... until Faith casually ambled in.
"So. What'd I miss?"
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