The New Threat
By Askita

 

Background: In my Buffy Verse, There are some things that never happened.

1. Revelations, Episode 7, never happened. The Council never sent another Watcher for Faith, they decided that Giles was capable of training both Slayers. Also, Buffy was still caught by Xander with Angel. And he was still reintroduced to the gang. Faith never had the seed of unrest planted in her head, by the fake Watcher.

2. Lovers Walk, Episode 8, never happened. It was Willie who gave Buffy and Angel the talk about them never being able to be friends, while they were looking for information one night. And since Spike never came back Xander and Willow never got caught kissing, Cordelia never got hurt, Xander and Willow managed to calm their hormones and get their heads on straight.

3. Hence, no wish made to a vengeance Demon, and no Anya.

4. Everything else goes as normal, Except the mayor never has these plans for an Ascension, is a normal human being and all that. All respective couples are in order, I can’t give away too much more, or my story will suffer.

5. Wesley was never sent either, and school basically went on as a senior year normally would.

Rating: NC-17

Timeline: Just after Graduation… before college.

Disclaimer: I take my inspiration where I can get it. The writers from the movie Blade II either hacked into my laptop when I was in Iraq, or we think too much alike for it to be any good. But, I have since had to change my plot. I own nothing in the Jossverse, I only take my writers license and bend them to my twisting and unyielding will…hee hee hee… ummm wait. Shall we begin??

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Buffy lay on her bed, eyes focused on the ceiling. Her thoughts rang out clearly in her mind. I can’t believe I wasn’t accepted at the UC Sunnydale. I am such a moron! Guess my reputation of being a troublemaker rang out further than I thought. She rolled over, staring at the wall, her vision blurring as she realized that her dreams had come to an end. Hell, I can’t even be with my friends anymore. No college, no money, her reputation had spread too far, and she wasn’t going to try anymore. She would just have to live with being the Slayer, there wasn’t too much to it. Faith could always use a hand. She survived on dead end jobs, saving the innocent, and killing the bad guys. Buffy could do it too. All her thoughts were spinning like a whirlwind in her head. One of them managing to come to the forefront. What if I wasn’t the Slayer anymore? What if- I quit? What if I quit and-

Her thoughts were interrupted by a light rapping on her window. Sensing Angel, she glanced at the clock on her nightstand. 2:15 am, she groaned to herself, She had only gotten into bed an hour before, what could he possibly want? She crawled out of bed and made her way to the window. Her silken pajamas molded to her skin by the cold wind as she opened the window to allow him entrance. Her nipples hardened, completely noticeable through the thin material. Buffy noticed the lust in his eyes as she reached to turn on her desk lamp, slowly, tentatively, she inched backwards.

“Angel, you know we can’t,” the words came out a whisper, not deterring him from his goal and his lips captured hers in a searing kiss. Her hands flew to his chest, pushing at him. Any other time, any other day, he would have stepped back, he would have relented to her will, he would have let her go. This time he didn’t. Buffy’s hazel eyes turned a shade greener as fear settled over her. She applied her Slayer strength to pushing him off her, he didn’t budge. Now she was really scared.

She tore her mouth from his, “Angel!” the word came out in a harsh whisper, it was as if he wasn’t himself, as if he didn’t care. He claimed her mouth again, one hand snaking between them. His fingers fumbled with the buttons of her men’s pajama top, and Buffy’s struggles didn’t help the one handed situation His anger and impatience got the better of him and he tore the buttons clean off, exposing her breasts and stomach to his devouring eyes. Somehow Buffy managed to escape his hold, she tried reasoning with him.

“Angel we ca-,” her voice came to a stuttering halt as her eyes focused on his face, his demon was in control. Not the Angel she knew and had once loved. And he was here for her, that wasn’t good. Before she could stop him, he was once again kissing her. Fondling her with one hand down her pajama pants, but gone were the gentle caresses from their one night of ecstasy, he was brutal, as if taking back what he had been denied. And it was true. They couldn’t be together, but oh how she had missed him. Maybe that was what made her give in, maybe she relished the chance to be with him once more, maybe it was his fingers dancing magic on her clitoris, maybe it was the way it didn’t seem like she had a choice in the matter. Whichever one it was, it didn’t matter now. She had tried like hell to avoid it, but the combination of his determination, her depression and his slight proficiency in strength, caused Angel and Buffy to have one more magical night.

Or that was what Buffy thought it would be, and to an extent it was. The magical moment came, and she was pushed over the edge, only faintly aware of Angel sinking his teeth into her neck. As hen waves of her orgasm gave way to delicate shivers, she realized Angel was still feeding. She struggled against him, but her exhaustion from her orgasm, and the lack of blood in her body made her attempts only a little stronger than a foal taking its first step. Angel pulled away for a split second, whispering to her as he licked her neck.

“I will have you forever!” it was an intense promise in a fierce whisper , and it made her heart cry. The last thing she saw before the blackness claimed her was Angel lifting his wrist to his mouth.

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Buffy awoke in a house, as thirsty as she had ever been in her life. The thought made her sick, but she wanted blood all the same. It was all that ran through her mind. Somehow she climbed out of bed in her pajamas from the night before, all buttons still in place, and ran down the steps into the main hall. Her yellow eyes flew to the door and she veered toward it, her hand nearly on the handle before she heard him.

“Don’t,” One simple word, stopping her dead in her tracks, her demonic features changing slightly with anger. She whirled, seeing Angel’s beautiful face, but not really seeing him. She growled, low in her throat and went to the kitchen door. Once again the simple word.

“Don’t,” It enraged her. She snarled at him, and fought for control. She didn’t know what was happening, all she knew was that she needed blood, and she needed it now. The Blood Lust took over, her mind no longer forming any coherent thought. Unless you count the constant chant for blood. She raced through the house, searching for an exit she might use, but found none. She ended up back in the kitchen, Angel standing at the counter where she had left him. She could barely contain herself as he stood there watching her. She was about to retrace her steps through the house to search for a door again, but another simple command escaped his lips.

“Stop,” For some reason she did, she just stood there watching him, the chant for blood still racing through her mind the word echoing in her head like a constant scream. She barely contained herself, wanting to take off and find release from the growing need. Her eyes followed his smooth movements as he walked across the hard wood toward her. The dark look in his eyes never wavering, his actions purposeful. He took her hand in his, the warmth that had been there countless times before, gone. But she still seemed so full of vitality and life. He tugged slightly and led her up back through the main hall and up the curving steps. The carpet under her feet like a like a river of blood flowing down the stairs, cutting a path through the hall stopping to pool in the living room. They passed three doors two on the left, one on the right, Buffy’s yellow eyes darting into each, only to find nothing. They stopped at the end of the hall, one door on her left, another on her right. Then Angel let go of her hand, and reached for the handle, slipping a key into the lock. The metallic click echoed through her Buffy’s mind, Angel turned the doorknob, then looked to her.

“In here you will clench your thirst, in here you will make your first kill.”

His whispered words filled Buffy’s mind, their meaning settling in, bringing the demon back full force. He swung the door open, and Buffy’s gaze flew to the young man standing at the far end of the room. His eyes were blue: his hair was brown, cut short barely brushing his ears. He wore faded blue jeans and a green T-shirt. But none of this registered in Buffy’s mind as she advanced on him, easily overpowering him. She could hear his heartbeat, hear the blood coursing through his veins as she nuzzled his neck, licking the skin over the jugular vein. Then she sunk her teeth into him, drinking all she could. At first he struggled, only for a few seconds before he began to weaken,. His arms stopped flailing, he stopped fighting, then his body went limp in her arms. She licked her lips, reveling in the taste of him. The warmth of his body filling hers.

She stared down at the boy in her arms, at the lifeless blue eyes that had lost their sparkle. What she had done struck her. She had taken a life, snuffed it out as if it weren’t of any consequence. And she’d enjoyed it. She then turned to Angel, her human mask falling into place, she moved to the bed in the room, setting the boy’s body upon it, carefully arranging him with his arms at his sides, and closing his eyes. She headed out into the hallway, brushing past Angel on her way. The fact that she had taken a life didn’t bother her as much as why. As much as what , or whom, had made her what she now was. She walked back down the hall, into the room where she had awakened. She moved to the dresser, opening the drawers finding underwear and clothes; she crossed the room to the cabinet, where she found her Shampoo and Conditioner, along with other necessities for bathing. She left the room,, bumping dead into Angel just outside her door.

“What are you doing?” he asked her, his voice velvet to her ears as she reigned in her anger.

“To me it looks like I am going to take a shower. I can’t talk to you right now Angel, do you understand? Leave me alone until nightfall.” With that she brushed past him, heading down the hall to the bathroom.

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Buffy turned on the water, getting annoyed when she couldn’t adjust the temperature right, then remembered that temperatures don’t effect Vampires the same as humans. That will take some getting used too. She turned the water as high as it would go, needing to feel the hot stream to wash off Angel attentions. Now that she could think straight again, she realized how much she truly hated Angel. He had done it, and the words fitted through her fogged brain. He’s made my worst nightmare come true, and I love it. Every minute of it. Mechanically she went through the motions if washing her hair and body.

She turned off the water, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her mass of blonde hair grabbing another towel to dry off her body. Using the flat of her hand, she wiped a circle in the mirror where her face would be. She stared unblinkingly, as nothing appeared where she was. Nothing. Not the towel in her hair, not the one wrapped around her body. She picked up her toothbrush, saw it float across the room, and watched as an invisible person brushed their invisible teeth. The whole realization of what was happening sank in. She went about getting dressed watching the bra disappear in the mirror as she clasped it and let go, her panties, jeans and top followed in the same suit. Luckily for her she never needed too much make-up, she always thought her natural look was much better. She picked up her hairbrush and ran it through her hair.

"This is definitely going to take some getting used to." She said to her non-existent reflection. She gathered all her things and went back to her room. Well, the place where all her stuff was. She sat down on the queen size bed, flopping backward, hazel eyes focusing on the canopy over head. The red and black velvet trailing down the four posters, white sheer curtains ready to be drawn together. She crawled further into the downy softness, stripping off her jeans and top, laying them across the foot of the bed. She rolled over onto her back, snuggled into her pillows, and promptly fell asleep.

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Angel paced down the hallway, stopping outside the door were Buffy slept peacefully, and reached for the handle. He paused, his hand around the cold doorknob, and thought for a moment. Should I risk it? Deciding yes, he opened the door and peered inside. Buffy lay in the middle of the four-poster bed, her head and shoulders propped up on two black satin pillows, breasts barely contained in a white lace bra. Her hips were slanted toward the door, the blonde tuft of hair between her legs barley visible though the matching panties. Right hand resting on her hip, left hand curled over her head, her angelic face toward him. A picture of lethal beauty and concealed prowess. He took a step into the room, watching her sleeping form. He wanted her, he loved her, now he could have her. The words echoed in his head. Now you’re mine. He stood there, watching her, just watching and waiting, waiting for her to awaken, waiting for her to open her arms to him. He knew that wouldn’t happen for a long time.

He had seen the look in her eyes when she had carried the dead boy’s body to the bed, he had seen it and had been warned. Her words rang in his ears “…I can’t talk to you right now Angel, do you understand? Leave me alone until nightfall.” And he would do that. He needed to stay on her good side; after all she had no soul. He needed to keep her happy, he needed to keep her in love. And giving in to his lust before she fully understood what was happening was not a good idea. She needed to learn to control the Blood Lust first. She needed to learn how to not crave human blood. But he had batched her feed, he had seen the look in her eyes, he had seen the finesse, grace, and pleasure in her face as she drank deeply. But after, when she had laid him down, he had seen the emotions warring within her, the sadness for the one she had been forced to kill, the pleasure still evident in her eyes, and then there was the way she looked at him. As if he were responsible for the boy’s death, as if he had sank his teeth into the boy’s neck and drank his fill. No, she did. She did it. She killed him and enjoyed it. His thoughts screamed. Now it’s up to me to make sure she doesn’t sink any further into it.

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Buffy crawled out of bed and made her way to the window, carefully she pulled aside the heavy drapes to peer outside. Half an hour ‘til sunset. Buffy made her way back to the bed, retrieving her jeans from the foot. She slid them over her muscled legs, and pulled the lavender top over her head. Reaching under the bed, she found her favorite pair of black boots, and headed to the bathroom. She washed her hands and face, and retrieved her brush, turning to the mirror to run the brush through her long locks. “Crap!” the word echoed through the bathroom, bouncing off the walls for a few seconds before Buffy turned from the mirror in disgust. She brushed her hair quickly and left the assured room. She went back to her room, and sat on the bed, her thoughts were wandering to her next move. She came out of her thoughts at the instinct that the sun was gone. She headed to the living room.

She found Angel there, sitting peacefully on the couch. She crossed the room to stand in front of him. Her mind was made up. There was no if, and, or buts about it. She was leaving.

Background: In L.A. Buffy has left the Scoobies and Giles.
WARNING: This contains graphic language and gratuitous scenes, lots of leather and naked pale skin. I warned you!!
Timeline: Six months after Loss of Control.
Disclaimer: I own nothing in the Jossverse, I only take my writers license and bend them to my twisting and unyielding will…hee hee hee… ummm wait. Shall we begin??
Songs: Nine Inch nails are very talented people, and they have written a great song.
Feedback: Yes please, it is nourishment for a good writers soul…
Beta: Thank You Amanda, you are a great beta, and I don’t know what I would do without you to catch the little typo’s and brain farts that Word does not catch. *grins*
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Buffy walked down the neon lit street, the signs above proclaiming in what part of LA she now lived and worked. It had been six months since she had left Sunnydale; her friends, her mother, her life, it was all there. She still talked to Willow every now and then, just to keep up on how her mother was, and what the gang was doing. In fact, Willow was the only one that she ever talked to. Through their discussions, and the red head’s conversations with Giles, they determined that Buffy had not lost her soul, well, not all of it anyways. The best way Buffy could explain it to herself, she wasn’t controlled by the demon completely, but it did have a say in how she led her life. She still fed, but not on innocent bystanders, only on those whom she caught in acts of crime, and only once every other day.

As she walked through the front door of Stiletto’s, her mind flew back months ago. To what Willow said Angel told them, or hadn’t told them. Willow’s words still floated around in the back of her head. “What do you mean HE turned you? He told us that you just came to him one night and told him you were leaving…” The conversation continued along in that direction, Buffy revealing many things about that fateful day.

“Hello Buffy, here a little early tonight, eh?” The burly bouncer greeted as she walked through the second door. He smiled at her, enjoying the role of big brother to her and the others. She reached out and straightened his slightly askew bow tie. He looked rather odd in the three-piece suit, his thick arms barely contained in the cut sleeves, his shaved head reflecting the red light of the exit sign above the door.

“Not really Charlie, I traded shifts with JoAnn tonight. Wanted to get home early, these just before sun-down nights are nearly killing me.” She smiled at herself, enjoying her little pun, but it was lost on Charlie as she headed towards the bar. She ordered a Diet Coke and settled back into a stool, surveying the crowd. She glanced at the clock on the wall to the left of the center stage. Fifteen minuets ‘til ten o’clock. There weren’t too many people there yet, mostly older men, and the regulars. She saw a few younger men, but they seemed to be very young, just barely eighteen young. Most of the college boys haven’t come out yet. Then of course, there will be the women. Only a few of them, girls dragged out by their guy friends for a lap dance so they could watch their fill. Buffy made a face at that thought, she always got a thrill when she was the one to perform those lap dances. It was exhilarating, and the cash was good too.

“You okay Buffy?” the aging bartender asked, seeing her expression.

She smiled and told him she was, grabbing her drink and heading toward the back of the establishment. She slipped past another burly man in a lack suit before ducking through the door. The light inside the room was a stark opposite of the area where the bar and tables rested. There were about eight girls in the brightly lit locker room, all scrambling to apply make-up and put on the perfect outfit. Buffy went to the furthest back, as always, far from the mirrors. Meredith came up behind Buffy, tapping her on the shoulder as she dug into her locker. Buffy turned and smiled at the other woman, whom had taken her under her wing when she’d joined the family at Stiletto’s, teaching her different ways to get the best tips. She was also one of the few girls there who didn’t attempt to get Buffy to change her pitch. Buffy thought it was only fitting to play the role of a dark, mysterious, dangerous female. Her usual wardrobe was a lot of black, and a lot of leather, or vinyl, whichever she preferred that night. With a smattering of pale pink on girly nights.

“Hello you, how was your day off?” Buffy said, her voice light and airy.

“Not bad, I spent it with my daughter. One of the first in a long line of happy Friday’s.” The brunette replied. She was older, about twenty-seven. The end of her last relationship had been hard, her ex getting custody of their daughter because of the line of work Meredith was in. “Billy has been really good about the whole situation, as much as everyone thinks what I do here will effect her, he knows that I wouldn’t do anything to put her in danger. I would never let her see me here.”

“At least he understands,” Buffy said, “It is great that even though he has full custody he gives you those days.” She smiled at the woman and continued digging in her locker, pulling out a pair of thigh high black leather boots and setting them on the floor. She rummaged for a little more, gathering the rest of her outfit. She began changing and froze, Meredith noticed and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, I was just hoping I turned the coffee pot off when I left the house.” Coffee, she thought. The one thing that she had retained throughout the entire six months, even through vampires didn’t need to eat or drink anything, the caffeine helped her calm her nerves whenever she was stressed. Soda, she just liked.

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Spike sauntered into Stiletto’s, having been to the strip club only once before, he wondered what it had to offer in the way of prey. He produced an ID to the out of place three-piece suit at the front door. When the bouncer asked him for his twenty dollars, he handed it over. After going through to doors, his senses were assaulted by the smoke that hung thickly in the air. “Bloody hell,” he said, waving a hand in front of his face, “and I don’t even have to breathe.” His eyes flickered to a shiny silver watch dangling from his wrist, 2 am. As his eyes quickly adjusted to the light, a soft “Cor,” escaped his lips, there were seven women, seven beautiful, scantily clad women, walking from table to table. His brows quickly drew together as he felt the familiar buzz in his head that accompanied another vampire presence. This particular buzz rang of Angelus’ blood line. Another wayward childe perhaps?

He crossed to the bar, ordering a double shot of Jack from the bartender. When he received it, he turned scanning the crowd. Not finding anyone he knew, he found a seat at a small table off to the right of center stage. Good enough to give him a great view of the skinny bleach blonde on stage, and still be hidden from view. He listened to the song, and watched the girl move, his mind wandering to what he would do to a girl like that, but all to quickly her face morphed to the petite Slayer who had all too often found her way into his thoughts.

Another song began to play and Spike turned his attention back to the center stage glad for something to get his mind off the Slayer for once. A brunette appeared, long wavy locks, pale skin, high cheekbones, and diamond bright eyes. The image assaulted him with renewed grief. Drusilla. His beloved Dru. A Chaos Demon! All gross and slimy, pretending he didn’t know she was involved. It was all evident that night. Ever since he had helped the Slayer get rid of Angelus. Ashes, she said I tasted like ashes, she said the Slayer was all over me. As the thoughts ran through his mind, the anger and sadness came over him once again and he stood abruptly, heading to the bar. He ordered another double shot and downed it. Looney bint, shows what she knows. He had left that night, left and gotten drunk as hell. Left, gotten drunk as hell and brooded so badly he made his grand sire look like a bleedin’ Master Vampire once again. He continued facing the bar, he couldn’t look at the girl. It brought back too much grief and pain, the vision of her walking away again. He calmed himself, waiting for the song to die out.

Suddenly he was brought aware by all the lights in the place going out. Then he started nodding his head to the beat of the familiar song, the drums resonating through his brain. His attention was once again directed to center stage by an anonymous announcer, and he turned to see a few backlights illuminating the profile of the girl on stage. She was a husky mixture of leather and skin in her high thigh black boots, the matching halter and skirt so short you see her thong underneath. The ensemble only accentuating her lush curves and petite form. She spun on the first down beat before the song, her blonde hair whipping around her face as her lush lips formed the words. Hips, breasts, and body moving with the song.

You let me violate you
You let me desecrate you
You let me penetrate you
You let me complicate you

Spike’s gaze tore from her undulating body, he focused on her face. His senses tingling as his mouth dropped open. The vixen dominating the stage with her body was not the Slayer he knew little under a year ago.

Help me,
I’ve broke apart my insides
Help me,
I’ve got no soul to sell
Help me,
The only thing that works for me
Help me get away from myself

Spike inched forward, moving into her direct view, all the while lust filled blue eyes never leaving her writhing form. He locked eyes with her then, his nether regions growing rock hard at the simple contact. In that instant he knew he had to have her. All the lust he had ever felt, every ounce from that very first meeting, needed sated, and it needed sated now. He watched her as she moved against the pole, her arms and hips all the while in constant movement. Calling to him, teasing him, torturing him. Her breasts begged to be touched, God he wanted to bite those nipples. Her mouth needed kissed, his tongue wished to dominate hers. He ran a frustrated hand through his short peroxide blonde hair and held eye contact the entire time. Her lips continuously reciting the lyrics.

I wanna fuck you like an animal
I wanna feel you from the inside
I wanna fuck you like an animal
My whole existence is flawed
You get me closer to God

You can have my isolation
You can have the hate that it brings
You can have my absence of faith
You can have my everything

Every word she had said was meant for him, every syllable. He fought to control himself, fought not to grab her as she crawled off the stage toward him, all the while singing the next lines in the song. She crawled up his body, her hips and arms pulling him into a dark mating dance. Her breasts brushed his chest, her pelvis grinding in nearly unbearable pleasure. She kissed along his neck, licked his ear. Pushed him away and pulled him to her all within the same breath.

Help me,
You tear down my reason
Help me,
It’s your sex I can smell
Help me,
You make me perfect
Help me think I’m somebody else

I wanna fuck you like an animal
I wanna feel you from the inside
I wanna fuck you like an animal
My whole existence is flawed
You get me closer to God

These last words had her grabbing the lapels of his duster and pushing him away, hazel eyes locked with his as she moved to show favor to the men around them. His blue eyes sparked with jealously as he saw other men reach out to grab her breasts, only to have her move just out of reach, the same when they managed to trail fingers up her inner thigh. His emotions were in high gear when the lead singer of Nine Inch Nails ground out his last addition to the song.

Through every forest, above the trees
Within my stomach scraped off my knees
I drink the honey inside your hive
You are the reason I stay alive

She was there, beside him again as the mumbling became clearer, She wrapped herself around him, her lips moving to his ears. Her whispered words doing more than he cared to acknowledge.

“I get off work in fifteen minuets, meet me out back.” With that said she slithered away from him, returning to the stage to finish the last bit of the song, all manner of bills tucked into her leather. You’ve learned much since you’ve been turned, Slayer. His eyes followed her afterward as she descended the stairs and made her way to the back of the club. She moved past another burly bouncer and disappeared into a corridor of bright light. He turned then, the fire in his pants nearly too much to bear, and headed toward the exit. The bouncer nodding to him as he passed, Spike turned and made a sharp left down a dark alley. The sound of the club grew faint and the chattering of women penetrated the brick wall, he stopped then, leaning against the opposite wall, waiting for the petite Slayer to appear.

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Buffy shivered slightly as she entered the dressing room, all of her nerve endings on edge. She knew Spike was standing right outside, she could sense him, her entire body alight with her arousal. Quickly she changed, gathered her things, and headed to where her manager was standing talking to one of the new girls. She was young, straight of the streets. All red curls, green eyes, and long, long legs. Her thoughts were pushed from her mind as Spike whispered her name outside the back door, sending another shiver through her. Slayer. She still wasn’t fully use to her heightened senses, nor her ability to read others minds. Although she had quickly discovered the ability to sense other vampires.

“Joe, I’m heading out for the night.” She said to him, casually interrupting his conversation with the girl. “I’ll be back tomorrow night.” She made to turn, only to have a hand on her arm detain her. So quick was her reaction that she was barely able to keep the demon in check.

“Buffy,” Joe said, his breath chaos to her keen sense of smell. She contained her urge to pull back to face him.

“Yeah?”

“This is Melissa, she’s new. She needs a ride home, take her, will ya?”

Buffy stared at him incredulously, then turned and smiled at the girl. “Alright, I am heading out now, got all your stuff?” The girl nodded, red curls bouncing, and followed Buffy as she moved toward the door. She stopped just before she opened it, and asked her where she lived. She waited for the girls answer then opened the door, she felt Spike before she saw him. Melissa stepped out behind her and the heavy door clicked shut. Not a split second afterward Spike was there, his lips on hers, hands roaming, his tongue teasing hers into and illicit dance until Buffy broke away from him. Her hands, which had wound themselves around his neck, moved to flatten against his chest. Dizzy and confused she went on tip toe to whisper in his ear.

“Spike, I need to take Melissa home, then we go to my place,” Without even waiting for his reply, she turned to Melissa, her head still reeling from his kiss. “Melissa, this is Spike. Spike, meet Melissa.” Jealousy kicked in as Melissa stared hungrily at Spike, the clouds shifting to put his features into full view. Buffy dipped into Melissa’s mind, invading her thoughts as easily as she was reading a book. What she found there made her furious.

Damn, he’s hot. Wish he was my boyfriend. And Spike, what a name. So dangerous. I wonder what he looks like without a shirt? Those sharp planes and prominent cheekbones. Look at those lips. To taste his kiss must be heaven, and in bed he must be great. Strong arms, and a pianists hands. He must know how to use his fingers. Hasn’t he ever heard the old saying “Fire on the head, Wild in bed,”? Everyone knows red-heads are great in the sack. And a blonde, come on, couldn’t he get original? Didn’t he know she dyed it? Wow, look at that platinum color glisten in the moonlight, and his eyes, I wonder what color they are. Oh well, I’ll find out soon enough, when he screams my name as he comes. I’ll know what color his eyes are then. Buffy? That’s like a name out of a cheap 70’s porno movie, she’ll lose him easily enough. Oh, she’ll be mad, but I won’t care. He’ll be mine.

As that last thought crossed the red-heads mind, Buffy leaned backwards against Spike, and moved against his crotch, feeling the need to stake her claim on him. He tensed, his hands went to her hips, a small groan escaping from his lips. Soft enough for Buffy’s ears and Buffy’s ears alone. She leaned her head back, tilting her mouth toward his. He captured her lips in another mind melting kiss. His right hand moving up her flat stomach to brush the underside of her breast. This time he broke the kiss.

“Well then, lets get you home.” he said to the girl, Buffy knew exactly why he wanted to get the red-head home so fast, as did Melissa, and the other girl was seeing red. They climbed into Spike’s black DeSoto and Buffy curled up next to him in the front seat, Melissa climbing after her, sitting next to the door. On the short ride there, Buffy decided not to think about why she got jealous, and on what she was about to do with Spike, and what would happen tomorrow. All she knew was that she was letting pent up emotions concerning the other vampire free, and she had long lasting craving that needed satisfying. In a matter of minuets Spike was peeling away from Melissa's apartment building and pulling up in front of Buffy's. She led him up the front stairs and punched in the code for the front door, inviting Spike in as she moved to the elevator. She felt his hands on her waist as she pushed the button for the fifth floor. The rickety old elevator taking its time on the climb. When Buffy excited the elevator Spike's skilled fingers and mouth had her so eager to get in her apartment that she dropped the key while trying to insert it into her lock. Spike took over then, easily sliding the key into place and opening the door for her. A husky, "Come in" his only reward of thanks.

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Spike entered the former slayer's studio apartment. She's got guts, he said to himself as he eyed the large windows that lined the entire place, the heavy black velvet curtains shutting out the hated sunlight. His gaze shot from the kitchen bar, to the large sofa, then to the steps in the middle of the room that spiraled upwards to the loft, its insides hidden from view. His blue eyes bounced back to where she stood, he studied the simple top and jeans, hiding the treasures he knew lay beneath. His hands itched to touch her, his fingers aching to trail up and down her soft skin. Giving in to his lust he moved toward her, lips finding hers in seconds. His arms snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against him. His hips brushing hers, her lush breasts pressing against his chest. His mouth devoured hers, his tongue parting her lips, invading her mouth to explore the sweet depths, she allowed him to pick her up, carry her to the nearby couch, and lay her down.

Quickly he stripped her down to her black satin underwear, and gazed at her pale flesh, his fingertips touching every inch of it. With a flick of his fingers, the front clasp of her bra came undone, freeing her breasts, they puckered at his touch, each nipple coming to a little crest, weeping to be taken into his mouth. I can do that... he thought, leaning over and dipping his head to kiss and lick one nipple before taking it into his mouth. Spike heard her moan as she arched into him. He teased her then, biting and nipping at her, his mouth moved to her other breast, his free hand quickly taking court over the abandoned tip. The sensations rippling through Buffy and leaving her in a pool of need as he withdrew his expert mouth, his left hand idly toying with her nipple as he studied her body. He moved his right hand to her neck, drifting lower, between her breasts, skimming over her ribs, dipping into her belly button, then further. His long pale fingers stole under the black satin, finding her slick in her arousal. His fingertips traced her folds, parting them as he slipped one slim finger into her moist passage, then a second. He stroked her, deftly moving in and out until she bucked her hips into his hand, a soft moan escaping from her lips.

Spike stared at her pouting lips and leaned down for another kiss, this one demanding, pushing, urging her to give herself to him. Spike stopped his ministrations and moved away for a moment, she heard the rustling of clothing, then he was removing her panties and settling on the couch beside her, his skin running delicately along hers. He returned his hand to her thighs, sliding his fingers along the soft flesh, touching everywhere except where he knew she wanted him.

“Spike, please…” her soft words only heightening his own arousal. She reached down tentatively and ran her fingers along his cock, her touch urging its head out of hiding. In a matter of moments he was positioned between her creamy thighs. The head of his penis brushing her wetness.

“Buffy, look at me…” she turned to him, hazel met blue as he sank into her.

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Buffy stared into his eyes as she felt him penetrate her, her inner muscles clenching and working as she moved with his slow diligent thrusts. They danced, moving to the beat shared in their minds, Buffy kissed and bit into his shoulder with her blunt teeth, working her way up his throat to his mouth. Their tongues touching and teasing, as their hands traveled across each other’s bodies, carefully mapping a route to pleasure. Spike drive into her over and over again, the pace quickening. Buffy knew the world was crashing in around them, knew that this was a sealing of fate, and didn’t care. Spike pushed her over the edge of her orgasm his name sounding on her lips as he quickly followed her. He promptly fell across her, drifting into a light sleep.

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Spike awoke, immediately aware of the body atop his, all soft curves and pale skin. His memories came flooding back as he absentmindedly curled a blonde lock of her hair around his index finger. Stiletto’s, Buffy dancing, taking the red-headed chit home, the elevator, and finally the studio apartment where he was now holed up for the day. His blue eyes caressed Buffy’s small form, as she lay sprawled over him. He briefly remembered switching their positions so as to not crush her in sleep, as his eyes traveled over her relaxed face. To think that we were once mortal enemies. He reached over the top of the couch, grasping the light blanket that lay there and settling it overtop her sleeping form.

His eyes darted over the room, what little of it he could see from his vantage point, and found a clock on the opposite wall. 2 pm, he had the rest of the day and Buffy was beginning to stir. He felt her sigh against his chest, felt her finger begin to trace light patterns across his flat nipple… He closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her dainty fingers, with their satiny softness. Buffy stretched and yawned, above him, reminding him of a languid cat after a dish of warm milk.

Hazel eyes stared up at him, clashing with his blue ones and a smile crossed her face. So beautiful…

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Spike didn’t know that Buffy was dipping into his mind. In all truth she hadn’t meant to, she was just wondering what he was thinking when the thought brought itself into her sleep addled mind. It flittered through her head as if he had whispered it to her himself, trailing off into nothing as he smiled back at her. His unspoken words had made her tingly all over. She felt as if her heart had skipped a beat, no doubt a reaction triggered by the back of her brain, as her heart no longer beat. She lay her head back on his chest, her thoughts drifting back to the previous night, one thing stuck out in her mind, in the height of her arousal she hadn’t noticed it. But he had called her Buffy. Not pet, luv, or ducks- Buffy. No endearments. Just Buffy. She snuggled deeper into him, one leg curling tighter around his bare thighs. Her face nuzzling his neck. She continued to trace muscled over his chest, marveling at the muscles underneath.

He kissed the top of her head and shifted her, lifting her into the air, and moving to the stairs. At the movement Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck, stabilizing herself as he ascended into the loft. He stopped and settled her into the feather soft bed, her hair a perfect match to the golden silk sheets beneath her comforter. Once more his thoughts crossed her mind, unbidden, So sweet and all mine… Quickly he spoke them, a husky low bedroom voice. Those words made her shiver, she embraced the emotions that stirred in her undead heart. Letting herself fall in love once again, she pleaded to the powers-that-be that it last.

She reached above her, hands gripping his shoulders lightly as she pulled him toward her. His lips caressed hers, soft and light. A feather touch before his lips trailed over her cheek bone, and down her throat, over the hollow at the base of her neck, down her collar bone to her breast. He worshiped every part of her, little shocks of pleasure coursing through Buffy and shooting down to pool in her lower stomach. Buffy could bear no more of this exquisite torture, but Spike was relentless in his attentions. He disappeared out of her sight, she felt his tongue on her thigh.

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When Buffy’s orgasm settled into ripples around her, he pulled her closer, tucking her safely into his side. Her face nuzzled into his neck as he tightened his arm around her, drifting into sleep her hand resting against his bare hip.

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Willow rapped don’t he door again, hearing the stumbling down the stairs. She bit her lower lip, hoping that this was the right apartment, She had only been there twice before, and hadn’t driven either time. She heard more rustling in the apartment, then steps closer to the door. Oh Goddess, please let this be the right apartment. Willow begged, as she heard the chain lock fall against the wood. The handle turned and her mouth dropped open as the occupant came into view.

It took her brain a second to register who was standing at the door, tousled white blonde hair, devastating blue eyes, fine cheekbones, sharply planed face, lean muscled chest, washboard abs, loose black jeans that hung low on his hips, pale toes sticking out from under the hem. When did Spike get hot? He looks like he’s spent the night.

“I’d tell you to take a picture Red, but it wouldn’t come out right.” Willow closed her mouth with an audible snap at the very familiar, very sexy Cockney accent.

“Where’s Buffy?” Willow demanded of the smug vampire leaning against the door jam.

He moved to the side, reaching his arm toward the couch as he spoke. “She’s upstairs asleep, ducks, have a seat on the couch an’ I’ll go tell her you’re ‘ere.”

Willow mechanically moved into the living room, sitting on the large cream colored sofa. Her mind still having trouble registering the slim peroxide blonde climbing the stairs. She tucked a strand of her cropped red hair behind her ear. Why would Spike be in Buffy’s apartment barefoot in only a pair of jeans… Oh- they were- oh… Willow’s face turned a delicate shade of pink and was still that way when a groggy Buffy came down the stairs, Spike close behind her. As she neared, Willow stood and embraced her long time friend.

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Chapter Two: Issues

Timeline: Directly After Chapter One.

Disclaimer: I own nothing in the Jossverse, I only take my writers license and bend them to my twisting and unyielding will…hee hee hee… ummm wait. Shall we begin??

Feedback: Pretty please!! With sugar on top… It makes the Spuffy scenes better, I promise…

Beta: Thank You Amanda, you are a great beta, and I don’t know what I would do without you to catch the little typo’s and brain farts that Word does not catch. *grins*

Soundboard: I want to thank Magan for being there whenever I need her to shoot down my bad ideas and give me new ones! *grins* Oh, and don’t beg her for hints on my Big Bad… She’s not telling!! *grins*

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Spike watched as the red-head turned a darker shade of pink as he and Buffy settled into the loveseat opposite her. His attention was quickly pulled from the girl when Buffy slid her hand into his, interlocking their fingers. Instinctively he squeezed, not realizing until now the extent of his newfound feelings for this girl. He pushed the thoughts aside, ready and willing to just be with her, enjoy her company, and feel her love… Her love…?

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Buffy was too happy to see Willow to be intruding into Spike’s thoughts, although she did enjoy the feeling of her hand in his. Willow is here for a reason Buffy, listen to what she has to say. Buffy forced herself to concentrate on Willow. “Willow, it is great to see you, how has everything been?”

Willow worried her lower lip between her teeth for a few seconds before she spoke. “Buffy, I wish I could say this is an everyday ‘let’s-go-visit-Vampire-Buffy’ day, but I can’t. Her green eyes darted to Spike and then back to Buffy. “There’s trouble in Sunnydale. And why does that sound like it came out of a movie?” Willow continued quickly not giving Buffy the chance to speak. “Buffy, I know you came here for a couple of reasons, and I know you don’t want to be bothered with trivial stuff, but Buffy, this isn’t trivial.”

“Willow, what is happening?” Buffy involuntarily clenched Spike’s hand, needing comfort.

“Wot’s goin’ on Red?” This, from Spike.

“I’m not sure of the details, there’s a lot we don’t know. But Giles was going through his books when I left. He doesn’t have anything yet, just told me to get you here as soon as possible.”

“Why?” Buffy asked, slightly confused, they still had Faith…

“Buffy, this vamp… Faith couldn’t keep up. It was like when you first started slaying, but she has been training, she’s in the best shape of her life. You remember, that time she came here with me, and you guys tussled? She almost died, if Angel hadn’t come along, she would have. She said that was what it was like, like she was fighting you, like he was an uber-vamp. Buffy if we haven’t ever needed you before, we need you now. Are you coming?”

Buffy chewed on her lip for a moment before looking at Spike. “Will you come?”

His blue eyes softened as he looked at her, seeing her willingness to help her friends, but her wariness at seeing them again. He leaned down, kissing her lightly on her forehead. “Of course love.”

She turned back to Willow then, her tone startlingly confident. “Only if Spike can come if not, then you will just have to do it without me.” Willow smiled and nodded at her long time friend.

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Spike stared at Buffy as she made her bed, struggling with the words to speak his mind. Ultimately he settled on bluntness. “Buffy, you can’t deny what happened last night, today, and just now. There is something between us, something… and I won’t let you push me away, I won’t.”

He saw her stiffen at his softly spoken words and waited as she composed herself a bit. He knew that he might have come on strong, but after Dru, he wasn’t wiling to let anyone go again. She turned, her hazel eyes burning into his, emotion plain in them. She knew she was an open book to him, she always had been. He watched as she struggled to put her feelings into words, listened as she spoke.

“I don’t want to push you away.” Those words were his undoing. He was there is a flash, arms around her, pulling her close. She laid her head on his chest, and he traced small patterns on her back as she continued. “Spike, I don’t know what I feel right now, I don’t know anything but that I don’t want you to go away. I’m not gonna call it love, but I’m not gonna call it lust either.”

He leaned her back a bit, cupping her face in his hands. His eyes locked with hers. “Then why don’t we just let things go where they will. No discussions about it, no concerns, let’s just feel.”

“I like that. I like that a lot. I just hope Angel doesn’t do any-”

Spike tensed at the name, his grip on her turning possessive as he slipped his arms around her waist again, holding her tight. He leaned down, nuzzling her neck, stamping down the fear at losing her to him. “Angel won’t matter.” he’d surprised himself by saying it, not even realizing his need to comfort her, comfort himself. He felt her small hand cup his cheek.

“Spike,” she waited until his eyes met hers, then continued. “Angel will not be anything to me. He won’t. Not a friend, an enemy, nothing. You have nothing to fear, I am yours as you are mine.” her words startled him, she sounded… angry. He said nothing as she continued. “The only thing I was worried about was the ruckus he will cause trying to make me his, trying to conform me to his ways. But with you there that won’t happen.” she paused then, a flash lighting her eyes. She quickly changed the subject. “Although we might have to drink a little animal blood while we’re there. But you’ll pull through.” She said teasingly, sliding her hands up his arms and down his chest.

He grinned and playfully swatted her on the behind. “You might want to get that tempting body out of here and into the tub luv, that is, if you don’t want Willow waiting for another few hours. After all, I still need to get to my own flat and get some of my own clothes for the stay in Sunnyhell.” Buffy wiggled her ass at him as she escaped into the bathroom.

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Not two seconds after the front door clicked shut, Willow was bounding up the steps to the loft, and flinging open the bathroom door. “Buffy Anne Summers!” the sound bounced off the blue and pearl colored tiles, causing Buffy to stick her head out of the shower.

“What?” Came the muffled reply as Buffy ducked back into the stream of water.

“What is Spike doing here, barefoot, in only a pair of jeans, during the daylight?” she asked, the shrillness gone from her voice as she calmed herself down. “What’s going on between you two?” Buffy was quiet as she turned off the water and toweled herself dry. She spoke only when she was decently dressed in a pair of jeans and a dark blue tank top.

“Well, what do you think? We’re a couple Wills, only recently, but we are. And I’ll not have you berating me in my choice of boyfriends. Just beca-”

Willow cut her off with a soft, “Buffy. I don’t care who you date as long as you are happy. I just kinda thought you two were mortal enemies and stuff.” Buffy grinned sheepishly at her, eyes cast downward.

“Things change Willow, and I’m a different person now. Plus, I like Spike….” She let the rest of her sentence trail off, unspoken as she moved to pull a travel bag from beneath the large bed. Willow moved with her to the dresser, watching her pull a few various outfits out and place them into her bag.

Willow watched the scene in the full length mirror slightly dazed as items floated across room. “Buffy?” she waited for the soft “Hmmm?” before she continued. “Where are you working? And why wouldn’t you tell me before?” Suddenly the pair of black boots Buffy was donning stopped moving. Willow turned to face her, green eyes expectant.

“I-” Buffy paused, trying to find the right words. “I work in a club. I’m a dancer Wills.”

“You’re a stripper?”

“No not really. I mean, yes I dance and yes it’s provocative, and yes it’s on stage, but I don’t strip. I wear skimpy clothes, but I don’t allow a lot of touching, and most importantly I keep on all my clothes.” She said, hoping Willow wouldn’t think of her badly. In truth, she allowed a small amount of touching, because that kept the money coming and as for skimpy clothes, she would leave that one alone.

“Why? Why did you refuse to tell me when I asked the first time?”

“Willow, you know you are my best friend. I didn’t want you think badly of me. I didn-”

Willow cut her off, “Buffy, I would never think badly of you. I realize that you don’t have many choices of jobs that let you work at night, and don’t expect to see you during the day. But I have one more question,” she said with a mischievous grin. “Is it fun?” Buffy collapsed into giggles against her best friend, her eyes tearing up with the thought of how much she missed her.

“Yes,” she said through her laughter, “terribly so. To know that those guys all want you, but can’t have you, it is very exhilarating.”

“Okay, now it’s your turn. How are things in the reliable ‘ole Hellmouth?”

“Same old, same old, fighting demons, killing vampires. Well, the bad ones. I take it you want all the good stuff. Well, Oz and I are still together and, believe it or not, Cordelia and Xander broke up. But things in that department have taken a different turn. Xander started dating Faith and Cordy is single. And Angel, he’s actually becoming a regular Scooby. Running around with us, going on patrol, he even does a good amount of demon killing. I don’t know how he will take you and Spike together, he still…” Willow let her words trail off as she noticed the look in Buffy’s eyes at the mention of his name. “You really don’t like him, do you?”

“Let’s not talk about the one person in my life who was supposed to love me unconditionally, only to make my worst nightmare come true, okay?” She ended the sentence in character, all happy pretending the bitterness wasn’t there. Willow gladly took the subject change and they steered the conversation to more happy things, just finishing up when the doorbell rang. “That’s Spike, are you ready to go?” Buffy asked.

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Minutes later, Buffy and Spike were walking toward the parking lot. “This is definitely not the way to my car.” Spike said. “You do remember where I parked, pet?”

“No, silly. We are not taking that pray painted hunk of black metal into Sunnydale.” Buffy relied. Willow giggled.

“Oi pet, not so harsh, that car is my baby, the love of my unlife.”

“The love of your unlife, huh?” Buffy replied, casting a quick glance over her shoulder. He stumbled over himself catching up to her. He leaned in close, his lips and breathe caressing her ear as he spoke.

“Second only to you, sweets.” The bedroom voice he used sent shivers down her spine and a grin spread over her face.

“Speaking of cars..." she said, as she strode up to a shiny black 1967 Shelby GT, trailing her fingers over the fender and along the chrome strip accenting the body. Her right hand retrieved the key from her pocket as her left fondled the door handle. A quick turn of said key had the door easily opening. With a sweep of her hand she invited Spike to inspect the interior of the car.

“You had enough money to restore the whole ting, pet?” he queried, blue eyes connecting with hers over his shoulder.

She concentrated on answering him in a feeble attempt to keep her knees from buckling... those damn eyes... “Yes. Charlie, the front door bouncer, he's half demon you know. Not sure what,” she said tilting her head to the side in thought. “He looks human though, and he knows better than to try to screw me over. I make decent money, thanks you.”

Spike just grinned at her, his lips curling seductively. She inhaled, short and quick. Those damn lips... She just stood there for a moment, dazed. Thinking of his lips, his tongue, his mouth. Her thoughts wandered to earlier that day and just what those particular body arts of his had done to her. Before she realized it, Spike was taking the keys from her and moving to open the trunk, he placed their bags inside. She felt his hands on her hips as he went to guide her to the passenger door.

She snapped out of her very arousing memories.

“I can't even drive my own car?” she asked, heel digging into the ground so she wouldn't be moved any farther.

Another one of those damned grins. “Relax, I just wanna see how she rides.”

Buffy was powerless against those lips. “Ok, but, we safely and slowly follow Willow, or I drive.”

Spike relented, eager to drive the Mustang, minuets later, they were traveling down the highway toward Sunnydale, Willow's small green neon leading the way.

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Spike slowed to a stop behind Willow as they pulled into the parking lot near Giles’ apartment. A light glowed from the window within view, and Buffy tensed as the curtains were pulled aside, but she knew it was too dark for human eyes to see the black Shelby parked in the shadows. Willow explained that Giles had moved to a bigger apartment when he had been assigned as Faith’s watcher, since she now lived with the older man. She led the way up the stairs, Buffy following with Spike tailing close behind, a hand resting possessively on her hip. He heard Buffy’s breath catch out of habit as Willow reached for the door handle.

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Angel’s senses were going haywire. He could only hear one heartbeat, so he knew Willow was about to enter, after all, Xander had dutifully announced the appearance of her car. He said he hadn’t seen anyone else, but Angel knew a vampire was with her. His sense of intimate knowledge of the vampire, combined with the sheer newness of it led him to believe Buffy was also there. He could see the whole room from where he was leaning against the corner of the fireplace in the back of the room, half covered in shadows. His brown eyes passed over each person before him. Faith, the new Slayer, sitting on the arm of the couch; Xander having moved from the windowsill to sit beside her; Oz leaning casually against the back of a tall chair, Cordelia perched on an ottoman, he could taste the anxiousness coursing through the room, feel their impatient wait for the door to open. At the sound of someone on the porch, Giles abruptly quit his pacing and moved to the door. Angel watched as the redhead breezed through the door, but couldn’t see the individual that hung back, waiting for an invitation. Giles froze for a moment, his _expression one of shock for but a moment before it softened.

“Do come in, please.” Giles crooned. He hung back for a second, casting a nervous glance around the room before his eyes settled on Buffy. Angel’s eyes flew to her immediately. He scanned her from top to bottom, honey blonde hair longer than he remembered, she wore no make-up, a result of not being able to see her reflection. His gaze touched over her hazel eyes, though they were trained on Giles, not him, he continued his perusal, remembering the feel of her firm breasts, the delicacy of her collar bone, visible in the navy blue tank top. Past her trim waist, the curve of her hip and the hand resting possessively there, down to take in her muscled legs inside the black flare leg jeans…

Angel’s eyes shot back to her waist and the hand that rested there. A name escaped his lips as the black fingernail polish triggered in his brain. He followed the hand upward, took quick note of the black trench coat, to the arm, across the chest. He took in the bleach blonde hair and the loose black jeans, the red button up shirt, black t-shirt, and all too familiar Doc Martens gracing Spike’s feet. Without thought Angel slipped into game face, the demon taking over at Spike’s obvious possession of Buffy. He leapt across the room, throwing a surprised Buffy to the side, and tackling an unknowing Spike to the floor, trapping his arms beneath him.

Angel, blinded by his fury, reached back throwing a deadly punch to Spike’s face, but before it was landed, he felt himself being tossed across the room, landing hard behind the couch. Not a piece of furniture broken, smashed or cracked. Angel rose, looking back to where Spike was struggling up from before, Buffy beside him, whispering softly into his ear. Her yellow gaze flew to him, and in that instant Angel knew. He knew everything. He knew the passion that her and Spike had shared, the feelings that had developed, he knew that if he wanted her back, he would have to work hard. He knew that he had to get Spike out of the picture. Buffy’s voice cut him off from his own thoughts.

By now she had let her human mask fall into place, her voice, though soft, was meaning all on its own. “Angel, if you dare do anything remotely like that again, I will loose all respect for what we once had and kill you where you stand, I am not longer yours. I am Spike’s now, just as he is mine. There is no place for you. Do not try to make one.” her eyes bore into him but a second more before she turned to the rest of the gang. Angel watched, shocked as she happily greeted them.

He moved back to his spot at the fireplace, and watched the scene play out in front of him. Buffy moved first to Giles, pausing tentatively in front of him, her movements unsure. Without a second thought he embraced her, and Angel watched as all the tension melted from her small form at the display of emotion and acceptance. Next, with a little more courage this time, she turned to Faith and Xander.

“Hey B, long time, no see… Who’s the hottie?” Angel’s mood only darkened when the brunette spoke. For the life, or unlife, of him, he couldn’t figure out what women found so attractive about Spike. He watched Buffy as she grinned and then slipped her arm around Spike’s waist sufficiently staking her claim for Faith’s benefit. He turned his gaze to Spike then, waiting for her reply and his reaction.

“This is Spike, he’s my boyfriend Faith. That means hands off.” Buffy replied, smiling sweetly and tightening her arm around waist. Her what??

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I don’t hate Angel, really… I just use him for lots of angst…

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