POINTLESS

Written by: Jori

Summary: Set after Doublemeat Palace, Spike pays Buffy a visit.
Disclaimer: The show Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all of it's characters belong to Joss, Mutant Enemy, & Fox Prod.
Feedback: Joris1021@aol.com




Her fingers worked the buttons of her uniform. Chicken. Cow. Chicken. Cow. What happened to the girl who wore cute clothes, she had to ask herself. How did she end up wearing clothes with livestock on it?

Buffy looked in the mirror and sighed. You die and your friends bring you back and you end up with not only bad pipes, but clothes with stupid buttons and a hat with a tail. Plus, there's the thing with the early morning shift. *Very* early morning. Just one more thing for her to be mad at them about. She spent the night patrolling and now had to be there in time to help open the doors.

Her eyes searched over her makeup, looking for the lipstick that closely matched her collar. She might smell like week old grease now, but at least she could still try . . . whatever she was trying. To still look young? She was still young. Why did she feel so old? Probably that dead thing again. Being dead often made a person feel old.

Buffy painted her lips cherry red and smacked them together, staring at herself in the mirror. She smoothed her uniform down with her hands, trying to get the wrinkles out. She didn't even have time to wash it last night and now it was not only greasy but wrinkly from being wadded up in a ball on the floor of her room. Come to think of it, most the people there in the morning showed up looking like this. Now she knew why.

She ran her hands through her short hair and sighed. The sun wasn't even up yet. She was always working in the dark but at least now she was getting paid for it. Not much, but it was money and she needed money. Bad.

"'Morning, luv."

Fuck. She felt the tears come to her eyes. She didn't need this now. Didn't need his eyes looking at the farm animals down the front of her shirt. Didn't need him wrinkling up his nose at the smell of grease and meat process.

"What do you want?" she asked, not turning around to see him. "And how did you get in?"

"Came through the back door, I did. Shouldn't be leavin' it open like that. You never know who . . . or what is out there," he said. She could feel him walk further into her room but she still didn't turn around.

"I didn't leave it open . . . Dawn," Buffy said with a sigh. "I thought she was here when I got home but that could have been Willow I heard. Dawn must have snuck in after me."

"That girl needs a full time sitter," Spike said. He was right behind her now. She could smell his stale cigarette and old leather scent, even over the greasy odor of her uniform.

"Are you offering because . . . no."

"It'd be hard for me to follow her 'round during the day, but I could keep an eye on her at night. When you're working and all," he said.

"No," she said again, staring in the mirror at only her reflection. She could feel his hand on her shoulder but if she just kept staring in the mirror she could pretend she was the only person in the room.

"Whatever you want," he said, his voice low and so close to her ear. Too close to her ear. "I'll do it for you."

That was enough. She turned around and gave him a little push, sending him back towards her bed. That isn't what she intended to do. She didn't want him anywhere near her bed. That would make this real and that was too much for her to take. Alleys and condemned buildings were good enough for them. Good enough for him.

"Is this what you want, luv?" he asked, sitting down on the edge of her bed and bouncing a little. She cringed and thought about dragging him out of her room and tossing him out the door. The sun would be up soon and if she sent his ass up into flames, she'd be free of this mess.

And she'd be even more alone.

"What I want is to get to work on time so I don't get fired. Again. What I want is for you to not just come barging into my life whenever you want to. What I want . . ." she started. She knew she couldn't stop the tears now. He cocked his head to the side and stared at her with far too much concern. He shouldn't care. He should walk into her house and try to kill her now that he can. He shouldn't be sitting there on the edge of her bed looking at her with that expression.

"What do you want?"

"I want it to be like it was. I want it to be like before," she said with a heavy sigh.

"Before what?" he asked and that made her stop and think. She didn't know the exact time it all went wrong. Her mom dying? Her dying? Her friends dragging her back? Or did it go wrong when she let him in?

"Before I had to go out and work for minimum wage," she lied, looking down at herself.

"I told you I'll get you money. Whatever you need," he said and she stared at him, her expression giving nothing away. She didn't even want to know where he'd get the money from nor did she want it. She'd rather call Giles before she took his money. Maybe she'd call Angel. Even that was better than taking money from Spike.

"No."

"You're better than this and you bloody well know it. You're the Slayer. You shouldn't be working at some grill," he said and she closed her eyes.

"I'm Buffy and I have a house to take care of and a sister to feed. I have responsibilities that have nothing to so with being 'the Slayer.' I just didn't know that I'd live . . ." she opened her eyes and stared at him again.

"That you'd live this long? Well, you are alive and I'm not going to make it different. You had your chance for that and you kept wigglin' away and all. There was a time I would have gladly sent you to an early grave but now I have you," he said and she could feel the expression on her face change from one of frozen indifference to something else.

"You don't have me."

"I can have you whenever I want you, pet, and you like it that way," he said, smirking at her in a way that made her want to stake him right there on her bed. She didn't care what kind of mess it made. The vacuum cleaner still worked.

"Get out. Now," she said. She was going to be late to work because of him and his stupid smirk. She was going to be late because she was going to have to clean his dusty remains up and how would she ever explain that?

"Make me," he said and she made her move, rushing towards him. She knew it was a mistake as soon as she did it because he got hold of her arms and in an instant, she was pinned under him on the bed. "You really need to give up your day job and do some more training. You're getting slow, Slayer. What would your Watcher say?"

"I don't have a Watcher. And if I did, he would say I should impale you with something big and sharp and woody." She knew it was a mistake as soon as she said it. He pushed his hips against hers and from somewhere, a tiny moan escaped her throat.

"Maybe I should impale you . . ." Before he could mock her, she pulled his head down into a kiss. Something in her brain shouted out for her to stop but its vote got shut down by the other parts of her body.

Damn him for doing this to her. Damn her body for betraying her like this. The only time she didn't want to be dead was when he was around, his cold fingers moving over her. The only time she could imagine she was in heaven again was when she closed her eyes and felt her body rock against his. Maybe she could get this feeling with anyone. Maybe she should test that theory to see. There were some guys at the restaurant who would surely be willing participants in her study. If they could just get their breaks at the same time, she could find out. Then she scoffed at the idea. She couldn't do that. They didn't . . . love her.

It might be sick and twisted and all very wrong but at least she had that. The love of a soulless, dead man who would still be out there killing if someone hadn't clipped his wings. Lucky girl.

His fingers ran over the buttons of her shirt and she could see him smile just a little. Cows and chickens. Stupid, stupid buttons that belonged on the clothes of a four year old. He broke the kiss and she gasped for air. The lipstick she had just applied was now all over his face, bright red against his pale skin. For a second, the sight made her stomach turn but he raised his arm up and wiped it off with the back of his hand. "Red used to be my color, pet, but now it doesn't quite go with me new shirt," he said and she just stared up at him. "Looks good on you, though. Matches right nice with this thing they make you wear."

"Shut up," she said, pulling him in for another kiss. This time, his tongue snaked into her mouth and she forgot about work. What were they going to do? Pay her less? Take away one of her breaks? She closed her mind off to the rest of the world. She didn't care that there were other people in the house. They were fast asleep. She didn't care about much of anything except getting off. She didn't the other night and now she wanted to make up for it. He knew it, and she was sure that was one of the reasons he came back here. Didn't want to hurt his reputation.

He ignored the buttons on her shirt since there was no time for that anyway. Even if she didn't care about work, she was sure he cared about the sunrise. Instead, he slipped down her body, pulled her shoes off and then worked her pants down. She watched him as he edged off the bed and knelt between her thighs. He pulled down her thong, tossed it aside and gave her a lascivious smile that she ignored. Instead, she turned and looked at the clock. He had fifteen minutes before she really had to go. Fifteen minutes to send her back to heaven.


***********


He didn't waste any time as he hiked her legs up over her shoulders and settled in. He lapped his tongue over each of her thighs, tasting her. Tasting the differences since she started this job. She smelled less sweet and more of sweat and hard work. He certainly didn't care when she was baring herself to him. She was opening up and he was bloody well going to take advantage of it.

Looking up at her one final time before he reached his proper destination, he caught her staring in fascination. He didn't know why it fascinated her so, this one act, but it did. Maybe because she knew he could just take a bite out of her right now and have it done with. Maybe that's the best thing he could do for her, the poor lost soul that she was.

But Spike wasn't ready to do that yet. He could live with whatever he was to her as long as she let him set his tongue *right* there. He would gladly be her rock hard dildo with fangs as long as she let him climb into her like this.

She let out a soft moan, so soft, so low that not even he was sure he heard it. He was quite certain he felt it go through her body, though, and he starting lapping at her with even more fervor. Her hands reached down and put her head right where she wanted him and he was more than happy to oblige.

He could feel that time was running out but she was going to come if it was the last thing he ever did. With her and her moods, it could be the last thing he ever did but oh what a way to go. The last thing he'd ever know was the taste of the Slayer on his tongue.

"Yes," she said quietly as to not wake the others and he slid his hand between her legs, his fingers working at her wet opening as his tongue kept moving against her clit. "Yes . . . please . . ."

Spike wanted her to say his name, to recognize that it was him doing this to her, but she didn't. He caught a quick look at her and could make out that her eyes were slammed shut. Pressing into just the right spot, he felt her start to unravel around him as her hips bucked up off the bed. He didn't let up until she finally pushed him away, her hands quick and insistent.

He figured that was all they had time for as he stayed there, nestled between her thighs. He couldn't decide whether he wanted to stare at her face, a look of delight still moving across it, or at her quim, all wet and rosy and waiting for more.

She didn't give him much time to think about it. Before he could even make up his mind, his Slayer had him on his back on the floor, straddling him. Something flashed in her eyes and he knew took it to mean she wanted more. It was never enough with her, always wanting to get off again. Didn't matter to him. He still owed her from the other night.

"Feel good, did it now?" he asked, knowing she would never answer with words. Buffy didn't need to. He could see it written across her face no matter how hard she tried to hide it.

"More. Time. Out of time," she managed to say between breaths and he tried to see her clock but couldn't from the angle she had him pinned down at.

"So, a quickie then?" he asked, moving her enough to get his hand to his zipper. He could do fast. He could do slow. Didn't much matter to him. Shagging her was good either way.

Without a word, she pushed his hand away and unfastened his zipper herself, setting him free of the denim. Then she was on him, guiding his cock into her with ease. They fit, they did, and he knew that had to do her in. Maybe if the fucking was bad, she'd have been able to throw him out by now but even when it wasn't that great, it was better than anything she'd ever had before.

She sank down on his shaft, letting him in all the way before rising up again so slowly he thought he was going to scream. Her fingers gripped onto the leather of his coat, digging into his flesh underneath. She was always holding on to him as if she were drowning and he was the only thing in this world that would keep her afloat. Her eyes might have been screaming 'I don't need you' at him, but her fingers were always holding on so tight.

He know his eyes, on the other hand, always gave him away. Even back when he was that bloody wanker William he couldn't help it. Heart on his sodding sleeve all the time. With her, he was even worse. He might be evil but he was also in love.

Her mouth fell open as she continued to move and he nearly lost it when her soft tongue danced across the bit of red still hanging tight to her lips. He closed his eyes for a second, willing that image to go away while trying to save it for later when he was left alone to toss off in his crypt.

"Can you? Can you come for me again? Make up for the other night?" he asked and she began to rock harder against him. He slipped his fingers between them, letting her clit brush up against the tips with each move she made. He wasn't going to move from this room until she came again and he didn't care what those buggers at the meat shack said.

Thrusting up to meet her, she finally gave in again, her tight walls gripping on to him. That and the look on her face was enough to make him come, too, and he filled her up good.

They both stilled, him completely while she worked on catching her breath. "I have to go to work. I have to go be a valuable and contributing member of society," Buffy said, staring down at him. She finally let go of her death grip on his jacket and allowed him to slip out of her.

"Don't go," he said but he knew it was too late. She was already reaching for her discarded panties and her uniform bottom.

"I'm going to be late. I'm should be clocking in in ten minutes. Damn it. If I get fired, I'm going to kill you," she said and he couldn't help but stare at her as she got dressed. She jumped around a bit, trying to get her clothes back on and it made him smile. "You better go, too. Sun's coming up soon,"

"Sun's already up, luv," he said and she gave him a puzzled look as she sought out her other shoe. He grinned a bit, lying there on her floor with his cock still hanging out of his pants, watching her move about. Dru, for a long time in his unlife, had been his stars and moon, but Buffy, she was nothing but his sunshine. He wanted to kick himself for turning into a bleedin' poetic nancy-boy just from looking at her.

"I mean it, Spike. When I get home tonight, you better be gone," she said, now looking at herself in the mirror, trying to fix her lipstick but not having much luck.

"I will be, pet," he said, rearranging himself back into his jeans and sitting up.

"And don't come into where I work. I don't want to have to explain . . . you."

"What's there to explain, luv? Just tell them I'm your boyfriend and if they don't like it, they can sod off," he said, standing up and trapping her in his arms before she could escape the room.

"You are so not my boyfriend," she said, stiffening up under his touch.

"Tell them what you want to tell them. I don't bloody care. But make sure you tell them you need to save up your breaks for in the evening after the sun's gone down because I'm going to be there," he said to her exasperated face.

Before she could get one word of protest out if her pretty little mouth, he was the one out of her room and down the stairs, rushing to beat the clock.

 


The End


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