Spuffy Twitter
Top 10
Contact Us



05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!


Author's Corner

[Reviews - 60]

Microsoft Word Chapter or Story

Printer Chapter or Story

ePub eBook Chapter or Story

- Text Size +
7527 - Reads

Authors Chapter Notes:
Okay, I think I'm at a point where I can start posting this. It's pretty different from "Lingering". Okay, very different. And I'll warn you that Buffy and Spike are not nice to each other at first. Also, there's a lot that gets introduced that won't get explained until later chapters. Be patient. It's all planned for. :)

Thanks to the lovely rowynnecrowley for her help in betaing for me. I hope Spuffy fans will give this one a try. Enjoy. :)

La Ratugabe was in the nice part of town, though the "nice" part of town would have been considered a slum back home. Spike went into vamp-face to deter a mugger. The small reptilian whatever-the-fuck-you-call-it scurried away, not wishing to go up against a vampire. For once, Spike wasn't in the mood for a fight. He'd spent a lot of money to get the powder to pop him halfway round the world for this, based on one tiny rumor he'd heard in some disreputable bar. He couldn't afford to let this chance go, though. He'd chase shadows if he bloody well had to.

This world was such a piece of shit. Even the glow agreed.

It looked nice for a whorehouse. Classy sign advertising the different demon-types that it was offering. The type of place a bloke wouldn't be too embarrassed to be seen at. Well, not for this world. As Spike entered, clomping his heavy boots on the interior floor and wiping mud on the tile, a small Garog demon ran up to him.

"Salutations, Mr. Vampire! Is it your first time here?" the Garog wrinkled its nose at the dirtied floor, but it held its tongue. A wise choice.

"Yeh," Spike said, looking around at the pictures on the wall. He didn't see her photo. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or not. He wanted to find her, true. But the glow. The glow hurt at the thought of her in this place.

"If you'd follow me, I'll show you what we have to offer," the Garog started to move into the next room. Spike could smell a variety of different female scents. He didn't smell hers, though. It'd been five years. Maybe it had changed. A lot had changed.

"Actually, I'm looking for something specific, mate. Heard a rumor around that you had a Slayer here," Spike met the Garog's eyes. Moment of truth time. If the Garog acted confused, then Spike would have to go home empty-handed. If not, then…

"How very appropriate," the Garog grinned, displaying tiny pointed teeth. "Yes, we do have the Vampire Slayer here."

Five bloody years. Been looking five goddamn years and she'd been in a brothel on the other side of the fucking world. The glow wanted to cry. Spike just felt like bashing in the Garog's furry head. He restrained both urges.

"Let me see her," he said.

The Garog led him down a carpeted hall. Spike's nose was filled. Smells of sex. Menstruation. Shit. Women. Men. Other demons that didn't fit in either category. But with every step, he began to notice a familiar fragrance. Faint. Barely recognizable. But it was there. The soft aroma of Slayer sweat. Plus, the tingles down his spine that told him that a Slayer was around.

The Garog pushed open the final door in the hallway and ushered Spike into an exotically decorated room. Sheer veils and curtains decorated the walls, and there was even a clear fountain at the back of the room. Plushy cushions in gold and red were littered about. Reclining on a large stack of cushions in the center of the room was her.

Her glistening bronze skin was hidden underneath a thin, see-through wrap skirt. Small breasts encased in small strips of golden fabric, too skimpy to be called a bikini or a bra. Her face was heavily made-up so she looked like an Arabian princess of some sort, while her long, blonde hair was tossled and cascaded down her back.

She looked up as Spike entered the room, meeting his eyes. There was barely a spark of recognition at his appearance, though her mouth curved upwards as she assessed Spike's body. Her gaze turned lustful in an instant.

"She's our premium girl," the Garog explained. "A strong, warrior woman, made to fight demons. And she's eager to give you any pleasure you ask for."

Spike stepped forward. "Slayer?" he said softly, hoping to get a different response other than the one that he was getting. He could smell her arousal from where he stood.

"Would you be interested in her services?" the Garog asked.

Buffy was still undressing him with her eyes. Spike turned back to the smaller demon. "Actually, mate, I want to buy her."

The Garog clucked, a trait they had when annoyed. "She's not for sale. She's a prostitute, not a slave."

"Well, then, I want to buy her exclusive services permanently."

"Absolutely not! She's our big draw!"

Spike rolled his eyes. The glow screamed at him as Spike wrapped a hand around the Garog's scrawny neck, pinning it back against the wall. He didn't go into vamp-face, but his human guise was very menacing at the moment.

"Not up for negotiation here. I'll give you 10,000 keras, and I'll leave you and the other girls alive when I leave with her. That's how this is gonna happen. Got it?"

Trembling, the Garog nodded its head. Spike released it, letting the demon fall onto the floor. He turned back to Buffy, who was frowning at him. Walking forward, he reached her in a few long strides and grabbed her arm.

"Come on, pet. We're going back to my place."

She resisted, pulling slightly back, but not putting all of her Slayer strength into it. "I don't wanna go."

"You're happy being a hooker?" He looked down at her, noticing her dilated pupils and wandering gaze. The girl was drugged on something.

"I have a cushion here," she said.

"I got cushions." Spike tugged her again, more roughly this time. She stumbled forward as Spike reached into his pocket, tossing the keras at the Garog. "Thanks for the girl, mate."

Spike reached into his other pocket, pulling out the powder. He sighed while tossing it up into the air, reciting the magic words to teleport him and Buffy back to his home.


Spike was more prepared for the landing this time round. The room spun only a few times before he managed to sort himself and turn his attention to Buffy, who was gripping the back of his sofa for stability. Her legs were shaking from the teleport.

Shit. He'd have to get food for her. He didn't have much beyond blood and liquor in his hideaway.

He'd gotten the place three years ago. Claimed it after ousting the Rontarot demon that was inhabiting it. Dank, stone walls, shuttered windows, off the beaten path. Perfect home for a vampire in the world. Locals weren't too fond of his type. Especially not of him. Not since the glow.

Have to go out though. Clothing. Food. She'd need girly things. Keep her comfortable until he could figure out the portal business. Knew he needed her. Her and the glow. And some book that he couldn't find. He would. Given time.

"Wait," Buffy said, looking around at his living room. "No. No, take me back!" She turned and started toward the front door.

Spike grabbed her arm roughly, yanking her back. "It's not out there, Slayer. Your brothel is clear across the world. That powder was just one round-trip. No return."

She shook her head, obviously upset about being dragged away from that place. Figures. Five years and the bloody bint had learned to enjoy being a whore.

"Listen," he said. "I bought you, so you're staying here with me, yeh?"

Her demeanor changed in an instant at that. She looked at him, feral gleam in her eye as she smiled. She closed the distance between them, hips swinging in an enticing fashion. Without preamble, she placed her hands on his chest, running them down to cup his crotch, giving him a squeeze.

"I see," she whispered in his ear. "What are you gonna do with me?"

He remembered Sunnydale. Before they got stuck here. Following after the Slayer like a lovesick puppy. Stealing sweaters and doing just about everything to get her attention. It all came back to him as her hand added pressure to his growing erection. What he wouldn't have given then for this. Her done up like some sexual goddess, ready to fulfill his every dirty desire and then some. She wanted him, her smell permeated the air. Oh, he would have loved this then. But this was now.

His baser self yelled at him and he shoved her away, pushing her into the back of the couch. She looked confused at his reaction.

"Not gonna do that, pet," he said. The glow nodded in approval. How he hated that damned thing.

"Then what am I here for?" she asked.

He squinted. She didn't understand yet? "We're gonna try to go home. Back through the portal. You remember home, right?"

Blank stare from her. No luck. He had no luck in this world. Since the moment he'd arrived here, everything had gone wrong. Why should this be a surprise?

"You're probably tired. The teleport'll do that to you. Get some sleep. We'll talk in the morning." Plus, Spike could get some clothes and food for her while she slept.

"I'm sleeping all by my lonesome?" she challenged.

"Down the hall. Second door on the left. And yeh. I got my own room." He stared her down. Wasn't gonna give in to her charms. She'd hate him for it when she found herself again. Bloody glow.

Buffy reluctantly left to go to her room.


He'd had the portal dream again. Same bloody dream for years now. They'd finally opened the portal back home, and Spike was going through it. But Buffy couldn't get through. She was stuck, crying on the demon side, and Spike was trying to go back when the portal closed, separating them.

He hated when his mind couldn't come up with another dream for him.

Near as he could figure, there was one main difference between this world and his world: the Slayer. This world didn't have one. Never did. Whoever had made the first Slayer hadn't done so here so vampires and other demons took over. What few humans there were had been enslaved or gone underground. Vampires were regarded as vermin due to their large population. A lot of vampires kept a human slave alive rather than killing them to feed off. Others, like Spike, resorted to animal blood.

He'd grown used to it back in Sunnydale anyway.

He was having his morning cup of glorious pig's blood when Buffy wandered out of her bedroom. She was dressed in the jeans and modest shirt that Spike had laid out for her. The jeans were a size too large. They'd have to go out again. Money was getting low, and the annual thing wasn't for another few weeks.

Buffy wiped her runny nose, sniffling. Her eyes were red and her hands were fidgeting. She looked confused as to where she was. A far cry from the prettied-up thing she'd been yesterday. Brothel must have had some glamour cast on her to make her more attractive.

"Sleep well?" he asked as she entered the kitchen.

She shook her head quickly, inspecting the room. "Didn't."

"Didn't what?"


Spike put his mug down. Shit. Girl was still on some high. "What you do all night?"

"Counted," she looked at him finally.

"Counted what?"

"Stones. Stones that make up the walls. There were 436 on the walls. I lost count on the floor. Stones kept moving. It's not right. They hide things in the walls. Things to spy on you," she was back to looking around the room.

"You hungry, pet?"

"No, no. Can't eat. Might be poison." She sat down cautiously on the edge of one of the seats, looking like she was about to bolt out of the room at any moment. "You're taking me back, right?"

He glanced at his notebook, full of all the information he'd gathered through the years about the portal. It was his instruction book in getting home. "Yeh. Take you back to your mum."

"No!" Buffy said loudly. She scooched her chair closer to Spike's. "I mean, back to Trevil. The Garog. My friend." She straddled one of Spike's legs, grinding herself down into his thigh and gripping his hair. "Take me back?"

Dammit. She was gonna have to stop doing this. Wasn't good for the glow. Wasn't good for his sanity. Her making bedroom eyes and rubbing against him, her knee teasing his groin.

"Or," she smiled, lowering her head to nibble on his earlobe. "Just take me."

Between her tongue dancing across his neck and his cock straining at his jeans, it took Spike a while to get himself sorted. Thinking with his higher brain, Spike grabbed Buffy by the waist and picked her up, setting her back down on the chair she'd just vacated.

His voice was probably a bit too gruff. "Now, now. None of that."

She sniffed.

Spike stood up to rinse out his mug. He could sense Buffy standing behind him.

"So, you don't play for girls anymore?" Buffy asked. "Prefer men now?"

He glared at her, not even dignifying that with a response.

"Or maybe it doesn't work anymore? Can't get it up?"

She damn well knew he could. Spike stepped toward her, grabbing her shoulders. "Enough of that. Just not gonna do that to you, pet."

She laughed. "Limp Dick Willy, you are! Can't really call you 'Spike' anymore, can we?"

He bit the inside of his cheek as he slapped her, barely conscious of the act. The glow disapproved. He didn't well care. Wanted her to shut up. Too much talking. He hadn't had this much noise in his place ever.

She flipped her hair out of her face and wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth, backing away from him with a gleam in her eye. She started laughing again. That damn cackle. Might have to gag her for some peace and quiet. That loud squawking was bound to give him a headache.

"You had a chip once," she said once her laughter had subsided.

He'd forgotten about that. He grinned. "Long gone." Easily removed in this world. Not that there was much point. Not many humans around for him to hurt.

She looked only slightly perturbed at the prospect that he could hurt her now. Spike remembered that he'd loved her. Hadn't he? Obsessed over her, surely. Been so long now, it was hard to remember what he'd seen in her while staring at the drug-addicted whore in front of him. She had been better then.

Buffy's eyes suddenly widened as if she were struck by an idea. "I'll walk back!" she said before turning to rush out of the kitchen.

She was making her way across the living room and to the front door when Spike caught her. "Walk where?"

"To Trevil."

Her pimp. "Luv, there's an ocean between here and there. You can't walk."

She shook out of his grasp. "I'm the Slayer. I'll swim. I need to get back."

Spike rolled his eyes as she turned around again to make another attempt to leave. He grabbed her, holding her against his chest to prevent her from moving any farther.

"You're gonna stay right here. Need you to get home," he said. She had started screaming and kicking, though, so it's not likely she heard him.

Wasn't using her full strength, which was a good thing. Though she turned in his arms, scratching at his face and kicking at his legs. He tried to catch her hands to calm her the fuck down but she just kept up with that awful shrieking.

Finally tiring of her tantrum, Spike grabbed her by the waist and lifted her, slinging her over his shoulder. She yelped, but quickly started pounding on his back to be let down, yelling various profanity in several different demon languages.

The glow didn't like any of this, but he didn't care. Damn thing could fuck off. Spike's sensitive ears were ringing from her screaming, and he didn't have time or patience to baby-sit her. He carried her swiftly back to her room and tossed her inside, leaving her sprawled on the floor.

Before she could scramble to her feet, he'd slammed the door and locked it. Door was designed to hold in an 8 foot demon. It would be able to withstand a tiny Slayer, no problem.

Of course, the pounding on the door started.

"Hey! Hey, let me out! I have to go! Please!" Bloody hell, she was crying. There was a shriek and what sounded like someone unsuccessfully kicking the door. "Please!"

He'd have to find something for the noise. A dampening spell or something to coat the room so he wouldn't have to listen to her. She'd calm down eventually.

The glow burned him as he walked back to the kitchen to fetch his notebook.


Spike lit his cigarette, inhaling slightly before marking down something in his notebook. The Slayer's screaming had died down hours ago, thank goodness. Nearly busted his ears. He had work to do. The portal.

Five years ago. Just after those Council wankers had left town, he and Buffy had been patrolling. Well, Buffy'd been patrolling. He'd been tagging along, trying to convince her to let him help. They'd come across some robed vampires doing some black magic in the cemetery. Course, a fight broke out, and then the portal opened. Spike couldn't remember who fell in first. Whoever did, took the other with them accidentally.

They didn't end up together, though. Portal spit them out in different places. Spike had spent the first year looking for her before giving up. He began to focus on getting back through the portal.

Was only when he realized he needed her to get back through to Sunnydale that he started looking again. Portal could only take them back to the same place and time that they'd left. To do that, though, it needed both of them. Spike couldn't go alone.

He'd been tempted to go alone once he saw Buffy's condition. He didn't have the patience to put up with her.

Problem was, he was trying to track down how to open the portal. Seemed he needed some mythic book or some such to get some chant. Fucking magic. He'd hated the stuff back in his own world. He hated it even more here. Always fucked things up.

His own stomach growling reminded him that Buffy would need to eat. He sighed, putting his work to the side and standing to let her out. Hopefully, she would be too exhausted to put up a fuss.

The Slayer was lying in the bed when he opened the door. She was awake, but her eyes were glazed over. She lifted her head slightly at his entrance.

"You hungry?" he asked.


"Get your ass out here, then." He turned and walked to the kitchen, relying on her to fix her own damn food. No way was he gonna play housemaid to her.

She entered the kitchen as he heated up his own blood. She moved slowly, dragging her feet along the stone floor, as she rummaged through cupboards to put together a simple meal.

Spike leaned back against the counter to watch her as she sat down to eat. She sniffed, wiping snot off onto her sleeve. Real attractive. Bet the mucous demons loved her.

"I need to go out," she mumbled between bites.

"Out where?"


"Looking to score some coke?" he asked.

She sniffed again at the mention of the stuff. Disgusting. Of all the drugs she had to pick.

"How you planning on paying for it?" he asked.

"I can get some," she said.

He snorted. "You mean you'll fuck for it."

She shrugged. "It'll work."

"You're not going out, and you're not going on that shit again. You're damn well staying here and you're staying clean. I don't wanna have to deal with some fucking cokehead bouncing around my place," he said. He rinsed his mug out. "Can't believe you'd screw around to score some drugs. Lost all semblance of self-respect, haven't you, Slayer? Disgrace to the calling, is what you are. Your drugs so precious to you?"

"At least somebody'd be fucking me," she looked up in an accusing glare. "Don't knock the life till you tried it."

"Yeah," he scoffed, looking her up and down. "You're a good poster girl for 'the life'."

He left the kitchen to get his notebook again while Buffy finished her meal.

"After you're done eating, take a shower!" he called as he settled back in his chair, flipping open his notebook.

He could sense Buffy moving around behind him, and he guessed she was going to the bathroom. She still reeked of that whorehouse.

Tomorrow he'd be meeting up with Jory, his contact. Spike didn't have the best of reputations, so he couldn't go out and hunt for information himself so he hired some menial demon to do it for him. He was looking for the Book of Langlar which, according to his notes, had information about opening a portal. Jory had been trying to up his price lately, the fucking bastard. Spike wouldn't let him get away with that. Bad enough he had to live as a fucking recluse.

He registered the sound of water, and then he heard wet, padding footsteps coming from behind him. He turned in his seat to see a wet Slayer wrapped in one of his towels.

She was skinny now. So skinny. Almost no tits that he could see beneath the towel. Her hair was a ragged wet mop on her head, and she had rising goosebumps all around her body.

"Water's cold," she said.

"I know. There's no hot water."

"I can't take a shower in cold water."

He raised an eyebrow. "Well, you sure as hell aren't stinking up my place anymore. Get your ass back in there and wash up."

She attempted a stare-down, but her heart must not have been into it. She turned and went back into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Spike sighed while staring at the puddle of water she'd left.

He hadn't had a woman in years.


He hadn't meant to dream about her. He hadn't in years. But he supposed the image of her wet, towel-clad body had sunk into his subconscious, and he had dreams of her lying naked on top of him, grinding herself on his erection. The Buffy of his dream wasn't the Buffy that was staying with him now, though. No, it was the Slayer from five years ago. Full-bodied, toned muscles, pert breasts bouncing up and down as she teased him with a stake, cruel tongue dancing across his nipples. He groaned, feeling himself close to cumming.

Something woke him up, though. It wasn't anything in particular. He just awoke before completion, and became fully aware of his throbbing erection under the sheets. Fuck. He'd have to take care of that.

First, though, he had to take care of his night visitor. He glanced to the side, noticing Buffy sitting beside him on the bed wearing only a tattered robe. Her hair was mussed from sleep and she had bags under her eyes. Not nearly the goddess from his dream.

"What you doing up?" He propped himself up on his elbows, annoyed at her entering his room. He hadn't thought to lock her in her room tonight. Instead, he'd just secured the front door so she couldn't get out of the house.

"You need help with that?" She ignored his question, eyes focused on the outline of his hard on.

He sighed. "Told you we're not doing that, pet."


Because the fucking glow wouldn't let him. "Be taking advantage - "

"Not if I'm asking you to do it," she said, scooching closer to him. The robe rode up further along her thigh, exposing more of her skin. Not as tanned as she used to be. The glow was still objecting, but his dick was screaming at him to ignore it. "How long's it been since you had a woman?" Buffy asked.

Fucking long enough.

Spike growled in response to the glow's protests and grabbed Buffy, flipping her onto her back and opening the robe. She grunted, reaching her hand down to grasp his dick. He had to bite down on her nipple to keep from groaning aloud. It had been so long.

He roughly worked his hand down her body, thrusting two fingers into her pussy. Already wet. Good. He didn't feel like foreplay.

Spike turned her onto her stomach, grabbing her by the hips and raising her ass into the air. Buffy responded eagerly by spreading her legs for him. His fingers dug tighter into her skin as Spike entered her in a single thrust. She moaned loudly.

He leaned forward to grab her by one shoulder, pumping into her hard and fast. His other arm wrapped around her stomach to raise her up a bit.

"Yeah," Buffy cooed. "That's it. Fuck me harder with your big dick."

Spike growled, grabbing her by the throat and pausing. "None of that. I'm not a bloody John of yours and I don't need the fucking fake porn talk." Her breath came fast, but she was silent. "Just be you." He pushed her back down onto her elbows.

She moaned when he started thrusting again, but she didn't start any of that damn dirty talk again. Didn't sound right coming from her. He didn't need her fake moaning. He could pleasure a woman without her faking anything.

Her hips were slamming back to meet him as he fucked her though. "Harder," she whispered between grunts.

Spike smiled, pressing her shoulders down onto the mattress to raise her ass up even higher. He held her down, bending one knee to change the angle of his thrusts. Buffy was getting louder and louder with her (very real) moans. Spike moved the hand that had been gripping her hip and cautiously circled it around her ass, pushing a finger inside.

Buffy screamed. Her body shuddered around him and then she froze for a few seconds as her inner muscles spasmed, constricting around his dick. He grunted, thrusting faster as he felt himself going over the edge with her. He came quickly, giving one more hard pump into her pussy before withdrawing.

He sat back on his knees while Buffy collapsed onto her side, gasping for air. Spike grinned, flipping the bird to the glow and laying down beside her. He wasn't out of breath, of course, but his body was still reeling from the experience. So long without another person. He felt like he'd touched heaven. Funny that heaven was a coke whore in this case.

She stared at him with a lazy, sated smile. That's about when the guilt hit him. Fucking glow.

Whether he was taking money from her or not, he'd still just used her for his own pleasure. Wasn't right. Hell, it could have been any bint in bed with him, and he would have done the same thing.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

He sighed, looking up at the ceiling. Life had been simpler in fucking Sunnydale. Oh, that was a laugh. "Shouldn't have done this," he replied.

She propped herself up on one elbow. "Since when did you become Mr. Morals?"

He glanced at her. She wasn't even bothering to try to cover herself. She had fading bruises on her body. He hadn't noticed in the heat of the moment. He wondered if he'd hurt her. He'd been rough.

She's the Slayer, you nit. She can kick your ass halfway round the world.

The glow still disapproved.

She'd asked him a question? Oh yeah.

"Probably about the same time you lost yours," he mumbled, trying not to look at her bruised flesh anymore.

"I didn't lose anything."

He grinned. "Yeah? So you would have given it up this easily back in Sunnydale?"

"It's just sex. Nothing wrong with it." She pulled the sheet up to cover herself, shivering slightly as the cold set in. "I don't kill people or anything."

"Yeah, neither do I."

"Why not?"

He raised an eyebrow, looking back at her. "Why what?"

She shrugged. "You don't have a chip anymore. Why don't you kill people?"

Cause it's wrong? Cause they don't deserve it? Cause he'd rather kill the buggering demons? Cause the fucking glow kept him from doing it? Cause the very thought of hurting a person sickened him at the same time it excited him?

Spike shrugged. "Dunno." She was still looking at him expectantly. "Can I sleep now or are you waiting for me to toss some money at you?"

She frowned before making an angry huffing noise and tossing the sheet off her. Without a word, she grabbed her robe and left his room.

Spike sighed, turning over to go to sleep. Something had been wrong with that. Well, besides the obvious. What it was, however, was somehow just on the edge of his mind.

Her bruises. Old, faded bruises from her time at La Ratugabe. She's the Slayer. Shouldn't those have healed by now?


Jory lived in the north part of town along with his fellow Grenarians. They were scavenger demons. They fed on leftovers and scraps, picking through others' trash to find things for their own use. They were able to move quickly and stealthily, and other demons didn't give them a second thought. They were part of the background.

Spike had met Jory in a bar years ago before he'd gotten the glow. He'd hired him on to be his eyes and ears into places that Spike had no access to. Jory was information.

He also lived in a shithole. Grenarians were pack demons; they lived together. Spike made his way through the abandoned building this pack called home. The stench of rotting carcasses made Spike almost queasy, but he could withstand it. Jory was standing in the corner, looking nervously back and forth as Spike approached.

The rest of Jory's pack would be out, hunting for whatever food they could find. They'd kick Jory out if they knew he was dealing with a vampire.

"Hiya, Spike," Jory said, jaw jittering. He was a reptilian demon. Hunched over with large claws that clacked together on occasion. Very unassuming. You could pass him by without a second glance.

"Whatcha got for me?" Spike asked.

Jory's claws clicked. "Nothing. Ain't heard nothing."

Spike raised an eyebrow. "Why you so nervous?"

Jory displayed his teeth in a display of humility. "You know what could happen if the others catch me meeting you."

"Uh-huh. And you found nothing?"


Spike started to extract the 500 keras from his pocket, wondering why he was bothering keeping this guy on retainer. Jory's claws clacked again as he held his hands out to accept the money. Spike paused. "You sure?"

"Course I'm sure. Why would I lie to you?"

Spike took a step closer. "You tell me."

More clicking. Jory was nervous as fuck, and Spike knew that he had to have found something.

"Listen," Jory said, eyes darting. "If he finds out I told you, he'll kill me and my family. I can't."


"I can't!"

Spike went into vamp-face, ramming a fist into Jory's gut and slamming him back against the wall. "If you don't tell me what you found out, then I'll kill you and your family. Right here. Right now. Got it?"

Jory nodded, eyes shut in panic. "Dehevret. I was in his area. He has the Book of Langlar in his vaults. He saw me. If he knows I told then -"

"Dehevret?" Spike repeated. Dehevret was a higher up in the demon world. Ruled quite a bit of the land and had a lot of the population under his imposing thumb. Jory was right to be scared of the guy. What the fuck was he doing with a book about portals?

Spike released Jory, who exhaled in relief. This meant things were gonna change soon. If Spike was having to get help from Dehevret, then he'd have to make some new arrangements and soon. For one, he'd have to get the money sooner than he'd planned.

He looked at Jory. "Thanks for the info, mate. You've been a help."

Before Jory could reply, Spike reached his hands out and twisted the other demon's head sharply, snapping the spine. He let the body fall to the floor.

Burning bridges. He wouldn't be coming back.


To say that Spike was surprised at finding another vampire in his home was an understatement. He had his place thoroughly locked down, inside and out, in order to keep intruders away and to keep Buffy in. Walking in to see a youngish vampire pulling on his shirt while walking out of Buffy's room was beyond irritating. It pissed the hell out of him.

"Who the fuck are you?" Spike was across the room in an instant, backing the other vamp into a corner to intimidate him into talking.

The vamp just smiled, unperturbed. "Name's Stef. I work for Ugvan."

Ah. Ugvan. The bloke that Spike had gotten the glow from. Spike still owed him several payments on that.

"How'd you get in here?" Spike asked. He glanced aside, noticing Buffy emerge from her room wearing only a short t-shirt. She leaned against the wall, covered in the smell of sex.

Stef shrugged. "Ugvan has ways of making doors open. Especially when there're debts to be collected." He looked over at Buffy. "I was just enjoying your hospitality while I waited."

"What debt?" Buffy asked, wiping her nose.

Spike was just about to open his mouth to tell her to shut up, but Stef interrupted him. "Spike owes for a little procedure Ugvan did years ago. He's late on his payment."

"Procedure?" Buffy looked at Spike. "The chip?"

"Chip?" Stef replied. "What chip?"

"I haven't got the money," Spike interrupted before that conversation went any farther. He didn't need Buffy knowing about the glow.

Stef's attention was back on him. "Ugvar won't like that."

Well, it was the truth. He'd spent most of his money on the magic dust to get Buffy. And now he'd have to save everything he had left for when he visited Dehevret.

"Sorry, mate." Spike shrugged. "Plus, I don't really care much for you fucking my houseguest."

Stef frowned right before Spike stabbed a wooden stake through his heart. The vampire dusted. Always handy to have a wooden stake around.

Now it would mean that Ugvar would be after him about the fucking debt, but Spike couldn't be bothered about that. He'd be leaving anyhow. Best wishes to Ugvar in finding him.

When he looked at Buffy, she was still leaning against the wall, unmoved by the dusting.

"Did you have to fuck him?" Spike asked. He wasn't sure why that bothered him. It shouldn't have. But it did.

"I needed a fix," she said.

"What, he promise you one?"

She shrugged. "Please, can I go out and get some stuff?"

He shook his head. "We're going, but not to get drugs for you. Got some work to do to get home."

"I don't wanna go home," she said.

"Well, I do. And I need you to do it, so you're coming with me."

She wasn't looking at him. Her gaze was on the floor. "Please, Spike. I just need a fix."

He stepped toward her, grabbing her chin and forcing her to make eye contact with him. "No, you don't. You're strong." He released her chin and walked past her. "Get your stuff together. We're leaving tomorrow night to get some money. We won't be back."


Chapter End Notes:
The next chapter will give some insight as to what's going on with Buffy. I hope you enjoyed. Thanks for reading. :)

Enter the security code shown below:
Note: You may submit either a rating or a review or both.