Taste of Power


“Bloody hell! Angle one of those the wrong way and… fuck… I will haunt you!”

“Oh, shut up, you big baby. It’s not like I’m purposely breaking it in half to stake you,” Buffy replied, breaking off yet another arrow, seeing him grimace, his face twisted in pain.

“You could put a little more finesse into it,” he replied, gritting his teeth when she maneuvered another half of an arrow out of his chest. “I don’t see any wood sticking out of your body.”

Buffy sighed, walking over to the small trash can in the bathroom and throwing the pieces into it. “Apparently you weren’t looking close enough,” she said, grabbing a towel and running it under some cool water for a moment before turning back to Spike. “Shirt off.”

Spike raised an eyebrow as she looked at him expectantly. “Beg your pardon?”

“What, are you from the 1880s?”

“Well, yeah,” he replied with an amused smile.

“Oh… shut up,” she said in a frustrated tone. “I need to clean up those wounds. Now, we can either do this the easy way or… well, for all I care, they can get infected.”

“I’m dead, pet,” he said with a chuckle. “Infections aren’t something I lay awake at night worrying about.”

“Fine,” she replied, throwing the washcloth at him. “Clean yourself up.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, not sounding sorry at all as she reached for the doorknob. Tossing the cloth back to her when she turned around, he looked her up and down for a moment before raising a suggestive eyebrow. “Will you do my back?”

“How can you make that sound dirty?” she muttered, walking over to him and guiding him to turn around.

“Relax. Not like I asked you to get in the shower with me,” he said, wincing as the rough fabric swept over a puncture wound on his back. “Although, if given the choice – fucking hell, Slayer! Can you leave some skin attached back there?” he yelled, sending a withering gaze over his shoulder.

“No shower talk,” she said, holding up a hand in warning.

A slow smile spread on Spike’s lips. “What’s the matter, love? Scared of what you might do?”

“Get real,” Buffy scoffed, hoping that he didn’t notice the way her heartbeat sped up.

He did.

“Oooh, I think someone likes the idea,” Spike said, swinging his legs around the corner of the counter to face her.

Buffy sighed, rolling her eyes to cover up her body’s reaction to his. “Don’t get all excited,” she replied, throwing the washcloth into the hamper. “It’s never gonna happen.”

“But that doesn’t mean that you’re against the idea,” he added with a smirk.

Shaking her head, Buffy pretended to ignore him. “Time to get you tied up again,” she said, reaching for the doorknob, only to stop when she heard Spike’s voice.

“You know, I prefer the bondage act to be fulfilled on a bed. Think the Watcher will leave anytime soon, pet?” he asked, biting his bottom lip as he looked her up and down with a suggestive expression.

“Do you ever stop talking like that?” she asked in exasperation.

“Want to talk about something serious?” he replied, pulling his shirt on again before giving her a cold look, causing Buffy to shiver at the way he could openly change his appearance without vamping out. “When do I get fed?”

“I told you - we have some gravy out there for you,” Buffy began, gesturing to the door, her eyes widening in shock when Spike grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer to him.

“I think I know of something better,” he said in a low voice as his face shifted.

Buffy felt a rush of panic go through her as a million thoughts flashed through her brain in the span of one second. The one that practically had neon flashing lights was the same one that nearly had her kicking him in the gut and running from the room to better ground. He’d tricked her.

“Relax,” he said in a soothing voice, his eyes drawn to her arm. “Just wanted something a little stronger than that swill out there,” he said, gesturing to the other side of the door.

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” Buffy asked with a raised eyebrow, her eyes widening when she saw him looking at her arm. “No. Nuh uh. No way!” she said, shaking her head as she backed away. “You think I’m letting your fangs and taste buds near my blood? You’ve got another thing coming, pal.”

“Ah, come on,” he cried in frustration. “You can’t expect a half-starved vampire to drink gravy when there’s Slayer’s blood right in front of him, running free from the tap.”

“Okay, a little word of advice – calling me a ‘tap’… not endearing me to your request,” she said, suppressing a smile when he growled.

“Come on,” he repeated, his teeth gritting together in frustration. “Not like I can hurt you. Obviously.”

Buffy stared at him for a long moment before glancing at the door, obviously considering it.

Spike stood up a little straighter when he saw the uncertainty in her gaze, knowing that he’d almost won. “It’s Thanksgiving,” he reminded her, knowing that he was giving her a low blow by appealing to the humanity in her, but seeing her shoulders sag, he nearly shouted out his relief.

“I feel any penetration,” she began, holding up a hand in warning.

“And it’s over before it starts, got it,” he replied, his eyes on the blood that was still trickling slightly from her arm. “Although if you’re begging for penetration-”

“You finish that sentence and this blood mobile is walking out the door.”

Spike rolled his eyes before gently taking her arm in his hands, not wanting to say anything to cause her to run away. Looking into her eyes for a long moment, he made sure she saw every facet of his demon face, not wanting her to be surprised by anything. Slowly lifting her arm, he lowered his lips to the wound, bypassing the fabric of her shirt as his tongue gently swept over the cut.

A taste of her blood had his body reacting to hers almost instantly. Subtly wrapping his other arm around her waist, he lightly held her against his body, trying not to succumb to the natural aphrodisiac and push her against the wall, knowing that would only be a good way to get a stake through his heart.

The cut was practically disappearing as he continued to brush his tongue over her skin.

‘She said no penetration - she never said anything about scratching,’ he thought, letting his fangs graze over the wound, reopening it to his tongue. Hearing Buffy’s breathy gasp, he smiled against her skin, knowing that she got some form of enjoyment out of it.

Pushing him away a moment later, Buffy saw the disappointment in his eyes before she whipped her shirt over her head, unsure of what she was doing but knowing that she needed to feel more of him.

A split second passed before Spike was back on her, pushing her against the wall, his hands on her waist, feeling the warm skin beneath his fingertips, his lips crushing against hers, neither caring about the fangs that lightly scratched the inside of her mouth as she fervently kissed him.

Something inside of her seemed to snap, not thinking about anything but the feel of his body against hers, his hands sliding up her back, finding the clasp of her bra and letting it fall to the floor. Looking up at the ceiling, Buffy’s eyes closed as she panted for air, feeling his lips sliding along her neck before his tongue wrapped around her nipple, sucking it into his mouth. Buffy moaned, her hands threading through his hair as his arms tightened around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

Trembling when she felt his fangs cutting into her skin, Buffy gasped, moaning as the sucking sensations caused a throbbing between her thighs. “Spike, no,” she whispered, panting when she felt him rubbing her clit through the fabric of her pants.

Her climax seemed to overpower her, leaving her shaking violently as she struggled not to scream her release. Gasping for air, Buffy slowly became aware that he was pulling away from her. Seeing his face shift back to human form, she looked up at him through hooded eyes, seeing the uncertainty in his, knowing that he was wondering if his request for a taste of her blood had been taken too far.

Reaching toward him, Buffy grabbed the waistband of his jeans, pulling him toward her and meeting his lips in a tender kiss. She shivered when his hands wrapped around her waist as his tongue brushed against hers.

Hearing a knock at the door, Buffy moaned at the interruption, closing her eyes when Spike’s lips pulled away from hers, only to trail along her neck. “Yeah?” she called, running her hands through his hair as he lightly bit her skin.

“Everything alright?”

“It’s fine, Giles,” she answered breathlessly. “There were a few more… puncture wounds than we thought,” she called out, feeling Spike smile against her skin seconds before her mouth opened in a silent scream as Spike’s fangs extended, imbedding in her neck, sending another small climax racing through her body.

Pulling away, Spike licked the blood from her neck. “A few more now,” he whispered, smiling when she smacked him lightly against the chest.

“We’ll be right out.”

Spike wordlessly handed her clothes to her, watching as she redressed before cupping her chin in his hand, guiding her lips to his for a gentle kiss. Using his other hand to pull a section of her hair over her shoulder, he smiled as he pulled away, kissing the end of her nose. “Better watch that tonight,” he said quietly, seeing her smooth her hair into place.

* * * * *

“I feel lousy,” Willow said with a pout.

“Turkey came out rather splendidly,” Giles said, hoping to cover up Willow’s statement as he smiled at Buffy.

“Oh, it was yummy,” Willow said hurriedly. “It’s just… Did you see me? Two seconds of conflict with an indigenous person, and I turned into General Custer.”

“Violence does that,” Giles said with a slight shrug. “Instinct takes over.”

“Yeah, that's the fun,” Spike replied with growing resentment as he worked the ropes to the chair, knowing that he couldn’t free himself from the loose knots that Buffy had tied, not wanting her to get the third degree from her friends on why his ‘circulation’ hadn’t been cut off the way it had earlier.

“Nobody asked you,” Xander said.

Spike saw Buffy’s lips tighten at her friend’s self-righteous attitude, giving him an apologetic glance before looking at her plate.

“Oh, lay off,” Spike said, looking at the whelp. “You all had a fine meal. But me? An entire siege. You'd think one of you would bleed a little,” he finished, hiding the smirk, knowing that he was playing his part in not letting her friends discover anything.

Giles glanced at his Slayer, remembering that Buffy had bled a little. Twice. And the blood flow had obviously stopped. Shrugging it off, knowing that her Slayer healing had undoubtedly done its job, he smiled at the young woman. “Good work, Buffy… On both counts.”

“Thanks,” she replied, hiding her blush as Spike looked over at her with a knowing smirk.

* * * * *

“Buffy, is that you?”

“Yeah, Giles. Sorry, it’s so late,” she called up the stairs. “I figured I’d drop off some blood for Spike. I’ll be gone in a sec.”

“Alright, good night.”

Turning around, Buffy rolled her eyes when she saw Spike easily shake off the ropes and stand up to wrap her in his arms.

“I prefer a different type of blood,” he whispered into her hair, nuzzling the fading marks that he’d made earlier in the evening.

Buffy closed her eyes, breathing heavily at the gesture before pulling away and tossing him a blood bag. “Here. I know you’re starving,” she said, trying to get her reaction to him under control as she walked toward the refrigerator, depositing the rest of the blood bags inside.

Spike walked over to the couch, sitting down and sinking his teeth into the bag. Raising an eyebrow a moment later, he turned toward Buffy as she walked over and curled up next to him on the couch, facing him as she propped her head up on her hand. “What’s wrong?” she asked, seeing the look on his face. “Not good?”

“No,” Spike said, shaking his head as he drained the rest of the bag before looking at her again. “A little too good. Where’d you get the AB positive?”

“Oh my God, you can tell blood types?” she asked, wrinkling her nose as Spike chuckled.

“It’s an acquired taste,” he said with a smile.

Buffy moved a little closer to him on the couch, looking at him almost shyly. “I thought that’s what you’d say about me,” she said with a soft smile.

Glancing up at the loft, Spike listened carefully, hearing Giles’ breathing evening out, indicating that he was almost asleep before snaking an arm around Buffy’s waist and pulling her into his lap until she was straddling him.

Buffy didn’t bother to resist, not wanting to question her newfound feelings or worry about the consequences.

“You know you’re more than an acquired taste,” he said with a smile, cupping her face in his hands and brushing a kiss to her lips. “Now… where’d you get the blood, Goldilocks?” he asked, smiling as she fidgeted in his lap, knowing that she’d swiped it from the hospital.

“Well, don’t tell anyone,” she whispered conspiratorially as she leaned forward and lightly bit his ear. “But I’m a vampire.”

Spike raised an eyebrow.

Buffy giggled after a moment before sighing heavily, a smile still on her lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Didn’t buy that one, huh?”

“Not even a little bit.”

~The End~