A/N I actually don't really spend much time rewriting Damaged, because I have to do it all from memory (since those evil people at Fox keep us waiting several months between DVD releases) and what I'm really interested in is what comes after.

Warning: Though not the focus of this story, there are a couple chapters that contain sexual violence.

Disclaimer: all of the characters belong to Joss

Chapter 1: What? How?

The elevator door opened, and the two vampires, Angel and Spike strode out, heading toward the conference room.

"A psycho slayer!" Spike exclaimed.

Angel rolled his eyes. "Will you stop saying that?"

"Sorry mate, just trying to get my head around the idea. A psycho slayer."

As they walked past the secretary's desk, which seemed to be empty, a blond head peaked up from under the desk.

"Umm boss? There's something y-"

"Harmony I don't even want to know what you're doing down there, get back to work." Angel sighed. For the hundredth time he wondered what Wesley had been thinking when he had appointed the poster child for dumb blonds to be his secretary.

"But boss."

"Back to work." Angel snapped.

Neither he nor Spike even bothered to look at her, as she reluctantly took her seat and whispered under her breath. "Sure, fine, whatever, not like you'd want to know that Slutty the Vampire Slayer's here."

But the male vampires were ignoring her completely. Side by side, they each reached for one of the double doors to the conference room. At almost they same moment they each opened a door, and at the same moment they both froze.

The usual gang was there, Wesley, Gunn, Fred, and Lorne. All looking business like each in their own way. But sitting on the table was a young blond women in a white cotton blouse and blue jeans, her black leather boots resting on one of the chairs. Her back was facing them, but Angel knew her instantly. They was she sat, they way she held everyone's attention, they way she smelled. Buffy.

She turned to look as she heard the doors open.

"Hey Ang- SPIKE?!"

It took everything in Angel not to growl at her. She's just surprised, he tried to tell himself, and it was evident on her face that she really was.

She hopped down off the table. She stood facing them in a wide stance, balanced, as if she might be expecting an attack. But her arms were crossed in front of her chest, protectively, and Angel knew her well enough to know that this meant she was nervous.

She was the most beautiful thing Angel had ever seen. And every time he saw her in person, he was filled with the same need. He wanted to grab her, kiss her, beg her to take him back. To be his, and only his. It tore him apart. But he knew he needed to stay strong. He knew if he asked her, she would say yes, but he couldn't. She deserved better than him. She deserved sunlight, and children, and laughter. Things he couldn't give her.

"What -? How -?" she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, to calm herself. Angel was glad she closed her eyes, because he knew they were focused not on him, but on Spike.

When she opened them again Angel's heart leapt. She was still looking only at Spike, but her eyes were flashing, angry.

"Hello Slayer." Angel could hear the younger vampire shuffle his feet uncomfortably next to him, as he used his best, I haven't done anything wrong if I don't admit to it, voice.

"Yah, whatever. Look, do you guys know where Dana is or not?" Buffy asked, looking away from Spike and back toward Wesley and Gunn.

"I'm still confused," Gunn broke in, "I thought there was only supposed to be one Slayer, the Chosen One and all that. Well except for Faith of course. She didn't die did she?"

"What?! No," Buffy sighed, "Okay here's the deal, way back in the dawn of time, a bunch of shamans took a young girl and filled her with the powers of a demon so that she could fight the forces of darkness. But since they didn't expect her to live long, they set up this whole deal, that when she died her powers would pass to another girl. The Chosen One, right.

"So anyway, no one ever bothered to question why there should just be one girl saving the whole human race, until last spring that is. The First evil was raising an army of uber-vampires and was killing off potential slayers, trying to end the whole Slayer line. Long story short, Willow, you guys met Willow right? Anyway, Willow pulled some major mojo, and made every potential slayer into a Slayer. But not just the potential Slayers in Sunnydale, all of them. Everywhere. Including this Dana girl.

"Look she's strong, she scared, and it sounds like she's not all there. Slayers have these wild technicolor dreams about the battles of previous Slayers. If she wasn't in touch with reality to begin with, they could have easily pushed her all the way over the edge. Trust me, they're not fun. We need to find her before she hurts herself or someone else."

Buffy looked around the room, waiting for someone to answer her, give her the information she needed. Then she scrunched up her eyebrows in confusion.

"Where'd Spike go?"
 

Chapter 2: Confrontations

A/N This chapter takes place near the end of Damaged, after Dana has been captured, and as they are wheeling Spike off in an Ambulance.

"You know this is you fault, don't you?"

Angel looked at her in confusion.

"Huh?"

"You know, back when you guys were evil. You were the big alpha male vampire, big daddy undead. Wasn't it your job to teach him to stay away from Slayers?"

It was unfair Buffy knew, and she was really only teasing Angel. She knew she sounded angry. And she was, though mostly at Spike. What had he been thinking? A vampire trying to kill a Slayer was one thing. Especially an untrained one like Dana. If he'd been trying to kill her, Spike would have had a better than even chance she figured. After all, before tonight he'd fought three Slayers, and killed two of them fairly easily.

But trying to incapacitate a Slayer all by himself was another thing entirely. He was lucky he hadn't been killed. He nearly had been. Did he have some kind of death wish. No one had bothered to explain to her yet how he'd come back in the first place. Was he going through something like she had when she had returned from the dead. She didn't know, and that made her angry. No one had told her he was back, and that made her really angry.

The fact was she was trying to work up her anger. As long as she was angry, she couldn't be sick. And she was very queasy. She'd seen a lot of awful things since she became the Slayer, including Spike horribly tortured on more than one occasion. Once looked so awful that Xander had even felt sorry for him. But this was different. Seeing him down in that basement, chained, and armless. . . It was wrong. It didn't fit somehow. It couldn't be real and yet was, horribly so.

She focused back on Angel.

"I'm just kidding you know. Major case of the wiggins you know?" she did her best to smile at him.

"Yeah, I understand. Well, okay it's Spike, so I don't really understand but . . . Don't worry, we can put Humpty-Dumpty back together again."

"Good. Well, any way I'll just take Dana and. . . "

"What? Buffy wait. We'll take care of her don't worry."

"Angel, she's a Slayer, it's. . ."

"No Buffy, really. We can handle her."

"-my responsibility. Angel. I did this to her. I made her this. Besides, I'm not all that comfortable leaving a crazy slayer in the hands of an evil law firm." Angel started to protest but this time Buffy cut him off. "An evil law-firm that's been known to hire rouge slayers and use them as assassins I might add."

"Buffy, we won't do that, we can help her."

"Yeah, look maybe you can, but she belongs with us. You know, the good guys."

The look on Angel's face was like he'd been slapped. She almost regretted saying it. She could feel it coming. The same argument they'd had post-Sunnydale, when she found out that he'd decided to take over Wolfram & Hart. She wanted desperately to believe that Angel was better than this place, that he could do good, but she couldn't take that chance. And he'd never given her a very good explanation of why he would join up with his old archenemies. She knew he was hiding something from her, probably to protect her. She almost wanted to laugh. She had once told Spike that she couldn't love him because she could never trust him, but the fact was, Angel was the big love of her life, and she didn't trust him. Wasn't sure she could ever trust him again.

"Buffy, it's not like you have a choice here." He was angry, she could hear it in his voice, see it in the way he stood up a little straighter.

"No Angel, it's you that doesn't have a choice. LADIES." She could hear behind her the van, as twelve other girls appeared. "Thirteen slayers. I'm not thinking that's your lucky number Angel."

As her girls loaded Dana's stretcher in their van, Buffy wanted to apologize to Angel. To try and make it better somehow. But she knew she couldn't. There was no way she could leave Dana with him, and she suspected that anything she might say would only make it worse.
 

Chapter 3 Catching Up

Spike wished Angel would just go away. It was humiliating. Lying there, barely able to move in that awful hospital gown while Angel stood over him. Spike couldn't help remembering the time he'd spent in a wheelchair. When Angelus had come and taken away everything Spike had worked for. How weak and powerless he'd felt.

Spike wasn't one to expect life to be fair, but still, just once couldn't Angel be the one to be maimed and incapacitated.

There was a quiet knock at the door. Then without warning she was there. Buffy, peaked in.

"Hey, how are you? Hey Angel. Do you mind if I. . ." she didn't seem to know what to say.

"Come in pet," he said hurriedly, afraid she'd go away. Suddenly all the pain was gone, or at least not important. Buffy was here, and she wasn't mad at him.

At the same time he was embarrassed all over again. He'd imagined a hundred different ways it could go when she found out that he was alive, from the good to the bad. But nothing he'd thought of had been as bad as this. Weak, helpless. And yet she was here, and that had to be good.

She started to enter and close the door behind her, when Angel crossed the room to her, blocking Spike's view.

"I thought we were the enemy."

Fuck, Spike thought. She was here to see him, she cared, at least a little, how he was doing, and tall, dark, and brooding was going to bollox the whole thing up.

"Yeah, I don't get that part, since no one's told me anything. Is Spike working for you?"

"NO!" the two vampire's said in unison.

"See, not an evil lawyer, not the enemy."

"So you think you can just waltz in here after you're little, everyone's evil speech?"

"Angel . . ." she opened the door to the room again, and pulled Angel through, shutting the door on Spike.

Damn! She wasn't going to stay. He wasn't going to see her. He wasn't even strong enough to stand up and get her. Not to mention the fact that he didn't think he could turn a door knob right now. Luckily, it didn't seem to occur to either Angel or Buffy that it was his hands that got cut off, not his ears, and with his vampire hearing he could hear every word they were saying just as if they'd stayed in the room.

"Look," Buffy was saying, "I know you're mad at me and we could argue more about this whole Wolfram & Hart thing, but honestly, I don't care about that. Spike's hurt and-"

"And what? You know, I didn't have to do this. I'm paying for this whole thing. I could have just left him there like that. Do you have any idea how expensive it is to have two arms reattached?"

Bastard. No one asked you for your bloody help.

"No. I don't. And thank you. You're right, you didn't have to. It's not that I think you're evil Angel. God, I love you, you know that."

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. He wanted to scream, he wanted to kick things, throw them and smash them. How could she say that right in front of him. He knew it was true, but hearing her say to Angel the thing she would never say to him. It felt like a knife had been stuck in his stomach and was ripping him open from navel to neck. He bit his lip to keep from making any noise. He was sure now that Angel must know that he could hear. He was probably grinning ear to ear. Lapping it up. Angel probably had Buffy against the wall his tongue down her throat, rubbing against her.

Tears rolled down his cheeks, but he couldn't move his hands to wipe them away. He had stopped paying attention to the conversation outside, but now he could hear that Buffy was still speaking.

"He's my friend."

There was a silence and then, "Fine whatever," and Spike could hear Angel's heavy steps as he left.

The door opened, and there she was again.

"Sorry about that. Oh God, you're in pain. Let me get a doct-"

"Wait. I'm okay pet. Really."

"No, I'll get someone, it'll only don't take a minute."

"Please don't go." Fuck, could he sound anymore pathetic.

She smiled. She smiled at him. The pain was still there. The hurt from the words that he wasn't supposed to have heard. And yet somehow it didn't matter. She was smiling at him.

She came and sat gently next to him on the bed. Her leg was only centimeters from his hand, and he couldn't touch her. He wouldn't have. He knew he wasn't allowed, but it drove him nuts knowing that he wasn't physically capable of doing it. It seemed more than he could bear. Then suddenly she leaned forward, and her hands were on his face. Hot soft fingers wiping away his tears, and it didn't seem to matter as much that he couldn't touch her, as long as she didn't stop touching him.

"Are you sure you're okay? You don't have to prove anything you know. I know how tough you are. There's no point in you being in pain."

He wanted to laugh, it was almost too much to bear. He was pretty well drugged, he could tell, and the pain in his hands was almost nothing. But there was nothing they could give him for the pain of her. Then again, with all the shamans running around, maybe there was.

"Really pet, I'm okay. They gave me lots of nice drugs."

She looked at him as if she didn't really believe him, but was going to let it slide. She looked down at his left hand, and gently began to run her fingers across it. He could see her do it, but thanks to those self same "nice" drugs, he couldn't really feel her touch. He wanted to curse, to get her to go back to touching his face, but he just watched her, accepting the intention of her caresses, even if couldn't properly enjoy them.

"I talked to the doctor's, or shaman's or whatever, before I came in. They say you're going to be all right. Good as new in fact. Not right away, but you know, soon. Which is good, cause I like your hands. I like what they-" she broke off blushing.

For the first time he smiled. Fuck Angel. She might love him, but he bet Angel had never really touched her the ways he had. The ways he might still again, but that Angel couldn't allow himself to.

"I'm kind of attached to them myself. And I intend to stay attached this time."

She looked up. He expected her to tease him about the bad joke, but instead there were tears in her eyes.

"Oh, god Spike, I'm so sorry. I never meant. . . This is all my fault." she broke down sobbing.

"Shh there, there." The need to scream and break things hit him again full force. He wanted to put his arms around, her, to comfort her. But he was too drugged. He couldn't move. "Don't know what you're talking about. None of this is your fault. I'm the stupid git who bit off more than he could chew."

Sniff "But it is my fault. I did this to her. I made her a Slayer. I made her a killer. Those people she killed, I gave her the power to kill them, to hurt you."

"Hey. This isn't your fault. Those people would have died months ago if you hadn't made the potentials into Slayers. Along with all the rest of us I might add. You saved the world. You did what you had to do. None of this is your fault."

"Yeah, I saved the world," her eyes were still teary, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "I saved the world by killing you."

"All right that's enough pet. You didn't kill me. I made my own decisions. And I wouldn't change a thing, not even if it meant that I stayed dead. Now stop this."

Suddenly she sat up and wiped away her tears. "God look at me. Here you are in the hospital, in pain, and I'm crying all over you. Expecting you to take care of me. Self absorbed much?"

"Buffy, it's okay luv. I don't mind. Cry if you need to. I wouldn't have, shouldn't have snapped at you. I'm just frustrated since I can't hold you. Comfort you all proper like. You know, just when I was getting used to touching things again."

"Huh?"

"Oh right, guess no one told you about my Casper days?" she just stared at him confused. "When I came back, I was ghost. Or something like a ghost anyway. That's how I ended up here in L.A. The amulet belonged to Wolfram & Hart, and just sort of found it's way back.

"Thing was, I was stuck to it, or Wolfram & Hart. They owned the amulet, and it owned me. So for several months there I had nothing to do but haunt Angel. But I couldn't touch anything, at least not without all sorts of concentration. Anyway, didn't get all corporeal again until about a month ago." he shrugged, and was rather proud of himself, it was the most significant movement he'd made yet.

"A whole month huh. And that whole time you couldn't find a phone?"

"And call what number. Not like I could check with the Sunnydale post office for a forwarding address and find out, say what country you were in."

"Please Angel knew how to. . . Okay, so I admit Angel probably wasn't going to give you my number. But still, I find it hard to believe that you couldn't find a way to contact me. I mean you're Spike. You could find all the pieces of the Judge, that ring of vampire invulnerability, not to mention your soul, and you couldn't find my phone number or forwarding address. It's just, it hurt you know. Seeing you, knowing that you were back, and you didn't tell me. It hurt."

"I'm sorry luv. You know I'd never hu. . . never MEAN to hurt you."

"I know." she reached over and ran her fingers through his hair. "So being a ghost not the fun it's cracked up to be?"

"Please. Not much fun to be had when you pass through everything. Not sure this is really that much better. When I was a ghost I couldn't touch anything, but then again there was nothing to touch."

"Huh? Just because your body wasn't solid doesn't mean everyth. . .Oh," she blushed as comprehension dawned on her. "Well, don't go thinking I'm going to be doing you any favors. I don't feel that guilty," she tossed her hair back over her shoulder.

He couldn't help but give her his cocky grin. Between the hair, the blushing, and the way her eyes had momentarily traveled down his body, he knew she wasn't as opposed to the idea as she was trying to seem.

"Why pet, I would never imply you do anything of the sort. . ." he waited till she gave him the look that said that she didn't believe him for a second, "here. Look in the corner behind the tele."

She looked and spotted the security camera.

"I guess you do have reason to be camera shy."

"It's not that. I hadn't even thought about THAT. It's just, where do you think Angel went when he left here. I'd be willing to be bet you almost anything that he went to security. No, I have no intention in letting him get off watching you suck my cock."

"Please, Spike. YOU might do something like that, but Angel wouldn't. Not to mention I'm pretty sure that me giving you a blow job is not high on his list of turn ons."

Spike laughed.

"I'm not saying it wouldn't piss him the hell off, but trust me, he wouldn't be able to look away. He'd be able to block out most of it. All he'd see is you mouth around a cock, and he could imagine it was his. Besides, he likes to watch. He used to watch me and Dru all the-"

"Ewww, okay that's enough. We are not having this conversation anymore. It's ridiculous. How do you even come up with this stuff?"

"Suit yourself pet, but if you don't believe me, go to security. Fourth floor, left out of the lift. You can't miss it. They keep a log at their front desk. Angel's the boss so they won't have made him sign in, but they'll have written his name in."

"And you know all this how?"

"Hello, ghost, here, three months. Not like I had much to do, especially with the forced celibacy," then his voice dropped, now he was serious, "He's got no clue you know. What goes on here. He says 'jump' and they say 'how high?' but only the ones he sees. He thinks he runs things here, but there are a dozen division heads, and the only ones he knows are Wes, and Gunn, and Fred. This place works without him. Goes on about it's business. He's got no clue what goes on here."

"Miss Summers?" one of the nurses stuck her head in, "Mr. Spike really needs his rest. You can come back later."

She nodded, and kissed him on the forehead. "I'll be back later, I promise, rest okay? Get better."

Chapter 4 Home Sweet Home

"Get off. You know I can walk just fine, there's nothing wrong with my bloody legs." Spike shrugged off Buffy's help and purposely stormed down the stairs, until he was forced to stop at the closed door.

"Forget about the keys?" Buffy jingled them, pretending for his sake that the only reason he couldn't go into his own apartment was that she was holding them, and that it had nothing to do with the fact that he couldn't turn a door knob.

She unlocked the door, and he brushed pass her, ignoring her.

"Buffy?" came the soft voice behind her, "Are you sure this is such a good idea? I know you two go way back, but he's kind of . . ."

"Rude, obnoxious, cranky, an asshole?" she laughed, "It's okay Fred. he's just being Spike. I've seen him much worse than this."

"Yeah, but maybe, we could find someplace else for him to recover, I mean it's such a small apartment, not really much room for you to get away from him if he starts to, you know, drive you bonkers."

"Please, less than a year ago I was living with twenty other girls in a house with only two bathrooms. Not to mention a certain slightly crazy, under the control of an ancient evil vampire. This'll be a cake walk."

"I guess. But you know we could get you a cot, and a screen if you needed some privacy. I mean if you needed privacy, cause you know, maybe you don't, it's really none of my business."

Buffy laughed, it really wasn't, but she had a feeling Angel was behind Fred's attempts to talk her out of taking care of Spike. Only the other day Fred had said how nice it would be if they could get Spike out of the hospital and somewhere he'd be more comfortable.

"I'll be fine sleeping on the sofa, and I can change and stuff in the bathroom. Plenty of privacy."

Normally she would have agreed that it was none of Fred's business, but if Angel asked the Texan, she hoped that would satisfy him. The last thing she wanted was Angel checking in on them. Not that she thought Angel would really spy on them, but after she had left Spike's room that first night, she'd pushed the button for the fourth floor in spite of herself. And when the elevator door had opened Angel had been standing right there.

It didn't prove anything. She'd never gone to security, she wasn't even sure security was on the fourth floor. Instead she'd made an excuse about the building being so big, and getting turned around, and she'd left. And so what if he had been watching them? It was just him worrying about her. The stuff Spike had said about him being turned on by voyeurism was ridiculous. Sure maybe that was true about Angelus, but not Angel. Spike didn't know what he was talking about.

"Ahhh"

Buffy spun around to see Spike collapse on the couch. He'd tried to sit down, and without thinking had used his hands, which wouldn't support his weight. She ran to him, to make sure he was all right.

"Get off. I'm fine ya' bloody bint," He tried to pull himself away from her, drawing his arms close to his body, like a young child that didn't want to be picked up. But she ignored his protests, and simply moved his body about, till he was settled.

"The blood's in the fridge, I assume that's all right ma'am."

Buffy glared at the goon. He wasn't really a goon, he was part of the nursing staff, but in Buffy's book anyone who worked for the forces of evil was either a minion or a goon.

"Remember, it may look like a lot of blood, but it's only a day's supply. We'll send over more tomorrow when the doctor comes. He needs lots of blood, so that his body knits those arms on good and strong. Oh, and here's the sheet with the instructions for his exercises. The doctor will probably alter them a bit tomorrow when he sees how he's doing, but it's important. You need to rebuild you're strength and dexterity. Okay Spike?"

"Yeah Fred, I got it. I'll be real good pet. I promise." he smiled at the brunette.

Buffy wanted to smack him. Fred was okay, but Spike seemed to flirt constantly with her, and Fred always seemed to smile and glow a little when he did. She obviously enjoyed the attention. It made Buffy want to sit the scrawny girl down and tell her point by point why it would never work between her and Spike. Not that she thought Fred was really interested in Spike, but that made it worse. Leading the poor guy on like that. Someone should really have a talk with her.

"Well, okay, by then. Good luck guys."

Fred left closing the door behind her. For a moment the two of them just sat there.

"Look Buffy, I appreciate this, but I don't need you to take care of me."

"Uh huh. Spike turn on the TV." she held out the remote. He glared at her for a moment, but refused to back down. He reached out and put his fingers around the remote but they wouldn't curl all the way around it. He tried to lift it out of her hand, but he couldn't close his fingers tightly enough around it, and it clattered to the floor. "See, you might miss Passions."

She put her cheek against his shoulder, and let him put his arm around her. "Seriously Spike. I don't mind. I volunteered for this remember. So just sit back and enjoy it. After all, how many vampires get to have a Slayer take care of their needs?" She regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth.

"Well pet, since you put it like that. . ."

"Spike."

He gave her his best innocent look. "I'm just asking you to take care of the needs I can't attend to myself right now, and a good hand job would really help me relax."

She got up from the couch making a disgusted noise.

"Hey wait. Look Buffy, there is one thing. Please sit back down, it's not about sex, I promise."

She looked at him warily, but he sounded sincere, so she sat back down.

"It's about the blood. It's human you know?"

"No. I thought Angel had a strict pigs blood only policy."

"He does. But it's not like I work there, he may not even know. I asked the doctor's about it back at the clinic, they said it was so I would heal faster. But Buffy. . . the thing is I don't want it. I can't. . ."

"Spike, it really is better for you. And besides, it's from a hospital. I mean, if you were human and lost your arms, they'd give you lots of blood. It's the same thing really."

"Maybe, I don't know. But pet, it's not like it is from a REAL hospital. It's from Wolfram & Hart. How can I know that the people who gave it, really GAVE it. That it wasn't taken. I just, I can't."

"Shh, it's okay. You don't have to." She put her arms around him, and held him. "I'll go to a butchers for you, but Spike, if you're drinking pigs blood, you'll need to drink more okay?"

"Yeah I will. Promise. Thanks pet." His words were muffled as he buried his face against her neck pulling her deeper into the hug.

Buffy snuggled in closer to him. It felt so good, holding him, and being held like this. And there was nothing wrong with it, she told herself, it was just a nice friendly hug. She felt Spike's arms tighten and shift around her, and suddenly he was pulling her onto his lap.

"Now about that other thing," we whispered in her ear as he tried to grind her ass against his erection.

Easily she pulled herself out of his grasp and stood up, hands on her hips glaring down at him. He just looked up at her with puppy dog eyes.

"Butchers. Where is it?" she demanded.

"Come on pet I was only kidding." it wasn't very convincing with the growing bulge in his jeans.

"Spike if you don't want to drink the blood in the fridge I have to go get you some more. So where is the nearest butchers?"

He grumbled but finally he gave in and gave her directions. As soon as she had them, she went straight out the door.

For a moment as the door closed behind her, she felt bad. She was supposed to be taking care of him, and she hadn't even offered to turn the TV on. She'd just left him there on the couch with a hard on, and nothing to do. She imagined that right now he was helplessly plucking at his belt, trying to undo his pants, or maybe he was just trying to rub himself as best he could with his limp hands.

She thought about how desperately he must want her, how deep his need must be, and how he couldn't do anything about it, but sit there with his cock pressing against his jeans and fantasize about her. It must be driving him crazy, she thought. How much he must need her right now.

And then she smiled. Serves him right. It would teach him a lesson. There was no way she could take care of him, if he expected her to get him off when ever he felt the need. It was best if he learn that he couldn't have her. That he could want her and want her, the need could build more and more, until he felt like he was going to burst, but she wasn't going to give in.

Instead she looked at the ring of keys in her hand. They were Spike's, and he'd said something about having a car. She headed to the buildings garage, and hit the button on the key ring until the lights flashed on one of the cars.

It was a black sports car of some sort. She wondered where Spike had gotten it. It didn't really matter, she knew there was no way she could drive the thing, but she wasn't interested in driving it. Instead she got in, and sat in the drivers seat. She ran her hand around the stick shift, and thought, there was defiantly no way she could drive this. Then she unzipped her jeans, and while her right hand moved up and down on the shift, she began to rub herself with her left hand, while she thought about Spike, and how hard he was, and how he couldn't do a thing about it.

Chapter 5 Buffy's Shower

Buffy yawned and stretched. Spike's couch was really not that bad a place to sleep, although she was a little stiff. It was she decided, one of the advantages of being short, she was able to lay almost fully stretched out on the couch.

She lifted herself up, and peaked over the back of couch to check on Spike. When she saw him, she almost wished she hadn't. The night before, she had agreed to undress Spike completely. She knew that he liked to sleep naked, so it wasn't as if he had anything else to sleep in anyway. It seemed too cruel to make him sleep in his jeans.

So she had undressed him, letting his cock free for the first time all day. Of course he'd made all sorts of remarks through the whole process, begging and pleading with her to get him off. Telling her that she could do anything to him she wanted, use him any way she wanted. She had been tempted, there had been a moment, right after she pulled his jeans off his ankles, when he was there on the bed, completely naked, completely hard, when she had thought about just pushing him down and ridding his cock for all he was worth.

But she didn't. She tucked him in under the sheet and went into the bathroom to change into her pajamas and go to sleep herself.

She looked at him laying there, the sheet around his waist, so that she could see his perfect chest. And the place where the sheet was tented. He still had his erection, or maybe it was a new one. Maybe he'd managed to rub against the mattress and get off. She secretly hoped not, she hoped it was the same erection. That he really couldn't get off without her help.

She looked at him, and thought about going over there and gently pulling the sheet off of him. Of taking his dick in her mouth, and sucking it gently, licking it up and down. She wondered how long she could go before he woke up. Could she get him to cum without waking up?

Suddenly she realized that her hand was inside the waistband of her pajamas and that she was touching herself. She stopped. There was no way she was going to let Spike know how horny she was. He would never stop trying to get her to touch him, if he knew.

Quickly, quietly she got up and went over to her suitcase. She sat down and opened it, so that her back was to Spike. If he woke up she wouldn't be able to see any thing in it. She fished out some clothes, plus her body wash. As she was feeling around for some socks, her hand brushed against something smooth and plastic. Her vibrator. Without thinking she wrapped her hand around it, running her thumb across the head of the fake penis, while she looked at the sleeping figure.

This wouldn't do, there was no way she could use the vibrator, even in the bathroom. She suspected Spike's vampire hearing would hear the sound of the motor. Sighing she found her socks, and headed into the bathroom.

She stripped and turned on the shower, waiting for the hot water. She stepped in the shower, and let the water cascade down her face and her hair. She ran her hands down her body stopping to cup her own breasts and squeeze her nipples which were already hard.

She smiled. Maybe she couldn't use her vibrator, but she could still get her self off here. Poor Spike she thought, unable to do this, unable to relieve himself. The doctors had said it would be a week before he could take care of himself. They meant things like being able to get dressed on his own and feed himself, but she imagined him a week from now. With the same erection. A whole week hard and aroused, unable to do anything. She imagined him then, once he was better, standing against the door, so she couldn't leave, while he pulled out his cock and started rubbing himself in front of her.

She stopped touching herself with her fingers, and instead inserted one finger into her core, while her thumb began to rub her clit. In her mind Spike stopped stroking himself, and instead grabbed her and threw her onto the bed. He held her down and kissed her. Forcing his tongue into her mouth, rough and hard and demanding. He looked at her, and he was angry, he held her down and his fingers, strong large healthy fingers pushed inside of her (Buffy moved a second finger inside herself and began to rub herself more vigorously). He was yelling at her, telling her he was going to use her, the way she refused to use him. He was going to keep her. Tie her down, never let her up. Never let her leave. Just fuck her, love her forever. And then his cock was inside of her (three fingers now) stretching her, hurting her. Hard and demanding, and needy. Then he looked in her eyes, and his deep blue eyes changed to gold, before she knew it he bit her, his teeth penetrating her as deeply as his cock.

"Oh God!" Had she said that allowed? She was still catching her breath from her orgasm. Crap, the whole point of the shower had been so he wouldn't hear. Then she laughed. Of course he hadn't heard her. She could have yelled at the top of her lungs and he wouldn't have woken up. Spike seemed to go completely deaf when he went to sleep. She'd never known a noise to wake him.

Although he did have an uncanny sense for movement. Whenever they had fallen asleep together, she had always woken up first, and when she would try and move away from him, no matter how careful she was, he would always wake up. Only that one night in Sunnydale, when he'd held her, had she been able to get away without waking him.

Thinking about that night made her sad. Why couldn't things be like they had been then. Those last few days in Sunnydale had been perfect. Well aside from the impending doom. She'd give anything to be able to sleep with him again. To have him just hold her, like that night. To sit and cuddle and talk about nothing in particular. To feel safe and loved the way he'd made her feel right before the end.

They'd been close to it last night. For a little bit. She'd found an action movie on TV. The kind of dumb violent stuff that Spike liked. It had been fun. Spike didn't mind her criticism of the fight scenes. In fact he joined in. They started talking about what each of them would have done in place of the hero, and argued over the best battle tactics. They were laughing and having a great time, but then came the obligatory sex scene, and Spike went back to trying to get her to give him a blow job.

Buffy sighed, and got out of the shower.

Chapter 6 Spike's Shower

It was her scent that woke him. The hot tangy scent of her arousal, the scent that went straight to his dick. He was already hard though. Idly he wondered if her scent had gradually aroused him, before it woke him, or whether he'd been having a good dream that he couldn't remember anymore.

It was probably the same bloody erection he'd gone to bed with. He'd tried rubbing himself against the mattress, but it wasn't very effective, and knowing that just a few feet away was the bitch who kept teasing him, who could so easily make him cum with her hands, her lips, her breasts, her cunt. No, it hadn't worked, just made him angry. Luckily he was still feeling weak enough, that he fell asleep easily.

Now he lay there. Unwilling to let her know he was awake. So he listened, he focused on the sound of her heartbeat, her breathing. He could hear her bare feet walking across the floor, then she stopped. She was moving something around. After a minute he realized it must be her suitcase. He'd tried to get her to unpack, but she had insisted on leaving her stuff in the suitcase. Afraid he'd go through her things he supposed. Which was absurd, he thought, as he wondered what exactly she had in there.

She stopped her rummaging, and suddenly the scent of her arousal came even stronger. He could hear her heart beating faster, her breathing speeding up. But there was no other sound. What was she doing? Fuck was she touching herself? The thought of watching Buffy masturbate almost got him to open his eyes, but he had that prickly feeling you got when someone was watching you. Of course she was watching him. What else would she be looking at and getting all hot and bothered about.

As much as she'd tried to hide it, he knew how much she'd liked looking at him when she had undressed him the night before. No, she was defiantly looking at him, and if he moved, if he opened his eyes, she'd stop whatever she was doing, and probably start yelling at him. So he lay there, imagining what she might be doing to herself.

It only lasted a moment though. She finished with her suitcase. He heard her zip it back up, and put it back against the wall. He wondered what she'd found in there that had set her off. Black lace panties maybe? No that was what would set him off. Fuck, there was an idea. When she went out for blood, he'd try her suitcase, steal a pair of panties, hopefully the set she was creaming right now. Hide it under his pillow, then tonight when she slept he could breath in the scent, wrap them around his dick.

He heard the bathroom door close, then a few minutes later the shower came on. Quickly he sat up. As long as she was in the shower, he could move about as much as he pleased. He figured he'd have plenty of time while she was drying off to get back in bed, and force her to wake him up. That could be fun in fact.

He went to the bathroom door and stood next to it trying to hear her under the sounds of the water. He couldn't pick up her heartbeat, but he didn't need to. She was panting, and the steamy air from the shower easily carried her scent around the door and to him. There was no doubt in his mind she was masturbating.

That's right baby, can't look at me without needing to get off can you? He tried to imagine what he was doing in her head. Bending her over the couch maybe. Pounding into her. No that was his fantasy again. She'd loved it the one time he'd fucked her up the ass, but that wouldn't be her fantasy. Buffy's fantasies would be sweet, romantic, not rough and violent like his. Yeah, sweet romantic. He could do that. He could do her anyway she wanted, she just had to tell him.

Maybe he was pouring cold champagne down her front. Licking the tiny bubbles off of her nipples. Sucking them, fondling them, gently biting them. Then farther down. Pouring it on her stomach. Licking it out of her belly button. Looking up at her as he gently nipped her, and she looked down on him with those green eyes, adoring him.

Farther down. Licking the inside of her thighs. Running his hands over her smooth skin. Kissing, licking, biting. Moving closer to her pussy, then backing away. Making her beg for it. Beg for him. Not the other way around. And when she begged him, when she made him know how much she needed him to touch her, his fingers would be inside her as his tongue found her clit.

He was pressing his dick against the cool door of the bathroom, listening to her. Wondering how many fingers she had inside herself, wishing that they were, that they could be, his fingers. Her breath was more ragged. It came in short gasps. Cut off. She was trying to be quiet. Trying not to make noise.

And then it came, a low moan "Oh, god," and she came. He was sure of it. He wanted her. His hand reached for the door knob. If he went in now he was sure she'd give in. Let him have her. Push her against the tile and fuck her senseless. But when he tried to grab the door knob, he found he couldn't. His fingers wouldn't quite close around it. He didn't have the strength in them to turn it.

He nearly banged himself against the door. His fingers might be weak, but the rest of his body was okay. He could bash the door down. But he knew that wouldn't get him what he wanted, so instead he crawled back into bed.

He tried to pull the sheets back over himself, but it was frustrating work. He couldn't seem to get his fingers to close around the thin cloth. Finally he gave up lying back. Closing his eyes, he tried not to cry. This was worse than being in that wheelchair, worse than being a ghost. At least as a ghost he hadn't needed anything.

But he was a ghost again. Haunting her. He wasn't real to her. If he was real, she'd talk to him. She used to talk to him. But now, every time he asked her about herself, she changed the subject. She insisted that nothing had happened to her since Sunnydale. All he knew was that she was living in Rome with Dawn, and helping to train Slayers. He tried to ask questions, to draw stuff out of her. But she wouldn't answer. No she didn't have a boyfriend, she insisted, she wasn't seeing any one. But that was it. Nothing beyond that.

Her life in Rome, it was just that, her life, and he was not allowed in. She was just leaving flowers at his grave so that she wouldn't feel guilty about his death. So every time she shut him out, he would start up about how he needed her to jerk him off, or blow him or whatever. He knew it pushed her farther away, but it was better to be rejected because he was being a crude jerk, than because she didn't want to let him in.

It had been different in Sunnydale. It used to be she talked to him. Even when he was evil she had talked to him more. Let him in more. And those last few days. God those last few days, when he knew that he was the closest person in the world to her. When she told him everything. When she cried in his arms. When she let him comfort her, and let him make her laugh. He would give anything to go back to that. Even if it meant he couldn't touch her.

But Buffy would never believe that. She still thought it was all about 'doing a Slayer'. He didn't care about that. Or at least not much. He wasn't even her friend anymore. What she'd said to Angel at the hospital wasn't true. They weren't friends. Not anymore. He was nothing to her. Nothing at all.

"Spike, are you okay?"

She was there, suddenly. Next to him. Sitting on the edge of his bed. Smelling clean and fresh, like vanilla. She reached over and brushed away his tears.

"Spike what is it? Do you need something? Are you in pain?"

"I'm fine pet, just feeling a little useless and imp. . ."

"Impotent?" she smiled at him, "Well, if it makes you feel any better, you're looking very potent this morning," she actually looked directly and obviously at his dick, which he hadn't managed to cover back up with the sheets.

"Oh really?" he tried to move close to her, to pull her on top of him, but she was too quick and got off the bed, readjusting the towel on top of her head.

"Do you want a shower?"

"With you, of course pet."

"By yourself. I'll start the water for you. I just hope I didn't use to much hot water."

He sighed. "It doesn't matter. Vampire, remember. Temperature doesn't bother me much." Except for how cold you are bitch, he thought.

"Too bad, looks like you could really use a cold shower. Come on."

She took him to the bathroom, and turned on the water, and helped him in. She even closed the shower curtain for him. As she left the room she told him to call her when he was done, then she shut the door.

He stood there under the water, dead, empty. He leaned his arms and his head against the wall of the shower. That was the second time she'd seen him crying in almost as many days. He'd tried to tease her. To make it seem like it was no big deal. Tried to make her angry, but she wouldn't get angry. She was just gentle and caring.

He sank down to his knees and began to sob. Hard uncontrollable sobs. He hated her for seeing him like this. For seeing him crying like a child. He tried to be quiet, afraid she would hear. He was terrified, any moment she would come through the door. But she didn't, and after a while he didn't care anymore. He just curled up and cried, letting the water wash away his tears.

Chapter 7: Drying Off

Buffy hummed to herself as she poured some cereal, and warmed some blood up for Spike. She was worried about him. She wished he'd tell her why he was crying. She was fairly sure that she heard him crying again in the bathroom, after she'd closed the door, but she left him alone. He'd tell her if he wanted to.

Besides, it was probably better that he was crying, not trying to hold it all in and be macho. His arms were cut off. That had to be traumatic, and he couldn't like her taking care of him.

That wasn't what really worried Buffy however. Spike was strong, he'd get over all of that. No, it was his apartment that worried her. It was so empty. It didn't look like anyone lived here. Like it was waiting for it's very first tenant.

The bed for instance. She couldn't imagine Spike picking a place to live with a bed that small. He loved to sprawl out as he slept, and that bed was barely the size of the cot in her old basement in Sunnydale.

She just couldn't see how Spike could end up living in a place like this. Nothing in the one room apartment suggested Spike at all. When she'd come here to drop off groceries for herself, before they'd brought Spike back from the hospital, she'd looked through his stuff. What stuff there was anyway.

A couple pairs of black jeans and t-shirts. He didn't even have any of those button down shirts that he sometimes wore. Although maybe he was just tired of sowing the buttons back on. Buffy was fairly certain that she had ripped the buttons off the same midnight blue shirt at least three times.

She knew something was wrong when in the top drawer of the bed-stand she'd found a copy of Playboy, and that was it, the only dirty magazine he had was a Playboy. She'd once stumbled across Spikes stash of porn back in his old crypt and there hadn't been a single Playboy, or Penthouse, or anything she had heard of. No Spike's old collection had made Playboy seem like good wholesome fun for the whole family.

He'd caught her back then. Looking through his stuff. He hadn't been mad, just amused. He asked her what she thought of the picture in the magazine she had opened she had said, "I can't understand what kind of woman let's her self be painted blue, and have fake breasts glued on to her. I mean what's the point of this stuff. It's not like it's real."

He'd turned his head away from her, and she thought maybe he was embarrassed, until she realized he was laughing at her. "Buffy. Pet. She's not painted, those aren't glued on. She's a Kro'kta demon."

"Ewww."

Then he'd convinced her to watch one of his porno movies with him. She hadn't wanted to, but he promised everyone in them was human and suggested that it might turn her on. It didn't turn her on at all. In fact she didn't even believe that people could really do the things in the movie, until Spike showed her that she bent in ways she didn't know anyone could bend. She flushed at the memory. Porno movies were not for her, but the effect they had on Spike had defiantly made up for her lack of interest.

But he didn't have any here in L.A. Other than the Playboy, the only things in the drawer had been a bottle of lubricant, a pair of handcuffs, and of all things, some condoms. That really worried her. What could Spike need condoms for? Was he trying to be more human? Too human perhaps. He might have a soul, but Buffy wasn't sure it was a good idea for him to suppress all the aspects of his vampire nature. If he tried to repress his other lusts, his blood lust might break free.

She realized that Spike had been in the shower for quiet some time now. His blood had gotten cold again, so she put it back in the microwave, and then knocked on the bathroom door.

"Spike are you okay. You haven't turned into a prune have you?"

She could hear some bumping then, "Yeah, I'm all done pet."

She went in, opened the shower curtain, turned off the water, and then got a towel while he got out of the tub.

She noticed right away that he wasn't hard anymore. Maybe he hadn't been crying after all, maybe she'd heard him jerking off. Which was good for him she told herself. After all a minute ago she'd been worried that he was too sexual repressed. But there was something about the look in his eyes, something sad, that told her he wasn't okay. He had been crying.

She started to dry him off. She was so very glad he didn't say anything. All too quickly she had the front of him dry above the waist. She didn't know what to do so she moved around to his back. It wasn't that she was embarrassed, she just didn't know how to dry off certain parts of him without groping. And she really wanted to grope him. She wanted to take his limp dick in her hands, and feel it grow hard.

When she came to his butt, she had some hope. She was able to dry it without 'grabbing' it. Though as she knelt down to dry off the his legs from the back, it was right there in front of her, clean, smooth, cool. She wanted nothing more than to bite it. To mark it as hers, and leave little red ovals all over it's pale surface.

She came back around to his front, and found that she wouldn't have to worry about making him hard, he already was. Again. He still hadn't said anything, but now he was smiling. The light flashed mischievously in his eyes as he waited to see what she would do.

She knelt down in front of him this time, and she saw him lick his lips in anticipation. She smirked at him, and without loosing eye contact she took the towel in her hand, and in one swift gesture she wrapped it around his cock, and gave it one good stroke with the towel, leaving it dry. He moaned softly, "Please?" she smiled are reached between his legs with the towel, and quickly dried off his balls. Then she got up, put the towel on the towel rack and said, "Time to get some clothes on you."

Pouting he followed her back into main room, and sat down on the bed. Getting him dressed was fairly easy, until she lifted up his jeans. He was still hard, and she wasn't sure how to go about zipping him up without hurting him.

"You know, it would be easier if you'd just suck on it."

She glared at him and pressed flat of her palm against the top of his penis, hoping to be able to push it down and into his pants, but he started rubbing against her hand.

She stopped touching him and stood up her hands on her hips.

"Spike." she said firmly, hands on her hips.

"Wha-"

She didn't let him finish, but swept his feet out from under him so that he fell backwards onto the bed. Before he knew it, she was sitting on him, straddling his stomach with her back to him, holding him down with her body so that he couldn't move. Once again she used her palm to push his erection down, and with her other hand, she managed to carefully zip him up.

"There" she said, feeling proud of herself, and getting off of Spike before he got too many ideas.

He sat up and put and arm around her.

"Pet why won't you? It doesn't have to be about me you know. You could use me anyway you like. I'm completely helpless you know. You could do anything to me, and I couldn't do a thing about it," he said suggestively.

"I know. But I can't. Maybe I want to. But I can't."

"Why not, luv. It's me, I don't mind."

She smiled sadly at him and put her hand on his chest, over his heart.

"That's exactly why. Because it's you. You love me Spike, and I couldn't stand to break you're heart, even if it doesn't beat." She got up and moved to the couch. "Do you want to watch some TV?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

Chapter 8: Spider-man, Does Whatever a Spider Can

"Stupid movie," Buffy exclaimed.

"What's wrong pet, I thought you were enjoying it?" Spike was tempted to turn and look at her, but he was too comfortable. Actually Spike was in heaven, or very close to it. He'd been good the rest of the day, and this was his reward, lying down with his head in Buffy's lap as she ran her fingers through his hair as they watched the movie.

"I just think. . . I mean kids watch this stuff. Is that really how we want America's youth to grow up?"

Spike was puzzled. "What? You object to, 'With great power comes great responsibility.' I thought that was on page one of the Slayer's Handbook?"

"Please page one of 'The Slayer's Handbook' is all about how this world used to be just another hell dimension, and all about the Old Ones and stuff. They don't even mention Slayers until Chapter 3."

Spike rolled over onto his back to look up at her. "There's no such thing."

Buffy giggled, "There is really, I swear. Come on, you don't believe that the Watcher's Council has a book for everything?"

"All right, you got me there. So what exactly is your gripe with Peter Parker?"

"I don't have a gripe, I just don't think. . . I mean he's just a bad role model is all. I mean, would you do things the way he did?"

"Well, I don't stick to walls, but can't see much wrong with him, other than the fact that he didn't shag that Mary-Jane into oblivion. I bet she's a real tiger in the sack. Think she's a real red-head?"

"Oh, for God's sake, is that all you think about?" he just smirked up at her. "You know, a relationship is more than just sex."

"Well, yeah, but it's one of the benefits. Look, there in love right? So why shouldn't they shag each other silly?"

"He left her. Remember?"

"So he's young and dumb. Granted. Actually you're right, he's bloody idiot. No man with an ounce of sense walks away from a girl like that."

"A girl like what?" her voice was suddenly quite, shy.

"A girl who loves you. A girl you love."

"What world do you live in Spike. Guys leave girls like that all the time."

He sat up and put one arm around her shoulder. "You obviously didn't get the Girlfriend's Handbook did you?" she looked at him, startled, and hurt. He lifted his other hand, and clumsily tried to brush her hair back away from her face, "You know what it say's on page one?" he smiled, "Men are bloody idiots."

She laughed and leaned in to him, hugging him and resting her head on his shoulder. "So how'd you get a copy?"

"Nicked it."

"So what else does it say?"

"Well, it says that vanilla is a very sexy smell, but not as sexy as a strong independent woman, and that green eyes are the most beautiful in the world. . . oh, and gentlemen prefer blonds, and you deserve beautiful things, diamonds and flowers and silk sheets, and all the happiness in the world. That you should wake up every morning, looking into the eyes of the man you love. Oh, and most importantly, it says that it's not your fault. . . I'm so sorry Buffy."

She looked up at him, resting her hand on his chest. "For what?"

"For Riley. I should never taken you there that night. I did everything I could to get rid of him. If I'd really loved you back then, I would have just wanted you to be happy, even if it was with the tin solider."

"Hey, it was good you showed me. Even if you did it for selfish reasons. I needed to know. He could have gotten hurt, and that wouldn't have been good. No, it was my fault. I never let him know how much he meant to me."

"Yeah, well, then, I know how that goes. . . You know . . . she, she never said it. Not once, in over a hundred years. I mean she would say 'I love it when you hurt me,' or 'I love it when you make them scream.' or even 'I love the way the blo-'" Buffy covered his mouth with her hand.

"I get the idea."

"Yeah, well, she never said she loved me. Never once. So maybe you liked him. Maybe you liked being with him. But maybe, if you never said you loved him, you never really did."

"You're wrong. I told him I loved him. I told him all time, just like I told Angel, my father, Giles. Well maybe not all the time with Giles. Anyway it's not just guys you know. I mean, how many times have I had to convince Dawn that I loved her. That she was the most important thing in the world to me. No it's me Spike. It is my fault. No one ever believes me." Her eyes were starting to tear up. Then she pulled away from him. "Even you. You didn't believe me. No one ever believes me."

He froze for a second. All this time she'd been unwilling to talk about anything Sunnydale related, and now there it was. That wonderful terrible moment when she'd told him that she loved him.

"That was different love. That was the end of the world, and fire and death. You want me to believe you. Then say it. Say it now. Look in my eyes and tell me you love me." He raised his hand to her face, and cupped her cheek, so that she was looking him straight in the eye.

She looked away.

"Say it Buffy. What are you afraid of? You know I love you. You tell me, here and now, and I'll believe it."

Why was he pushing. He knew it was a stupid thing to do. He knew she wouldn't say it because she didn't love him. It was silly to force the issue. All this was going to do was get him hurt, but he couldn't help it. There was the masochist in him. That stupid part of him that wouldn't give up on her no matter what. That said it didn't matter how many times she trampled all over his heart. That just the slightest chance that she might love him, no matter how slim it was had to be pursued, because if she did it was worth any amount of pain along the way.

"Spike," her voice was pleading sorry. He could hear it coming, the 'I just don't feel that way,' or worse yet 'I love you as a friend.' Then her hand came up and covered his hand on her cheek. She finally looked up at him, and for a moment they just sat there, looking deep into each other eyes searching for something.

"Spike. . . I . . .I--"

RING!

Both their eyes looked toward the kitchen area, the spell broken.

RING!

The phone on the wall was ringing.

"Bloody . . . Who the hell?"

"I should get that." Buffy quickly got up and picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

Spike sank back into the couch. Pissed off. Who the hell could be calling him? And why did they have to call now? Not that she had really been going to say it. But for a moment there, he thought. Just a second when he thought she might.

Maybe it was better this way. He didn't really need her to tell him that she didn't love him again.

The credits had finished, and now the annoying menu music was playing on the DVD. He stared in consternation, wondering how he could stop it. Then he noticed the small green light on the front of the Playstation2. Fred had told him that if held that button down until the light went red it would turn it off. She had brought it over that afternoon when the doctor came by. It was supposed to be part of his therapy. Though right now Spike found it too painful to try and curl his fingers around the controller.

Instead he sank down on his knees, and tried to turn it off, but the stupid little button was flat against the front of the machine. He managed to push it a little, but all that did was restart the thing, flashing the FBI warning in front of him. He tried again and again, but he couldn't manage to keep the button held down. Over and over the screen flashed FBI, FBI, FBI. Just when he was about to try throwing the thing across the room, Buffy came back and knelt down beside him and easily turned it off.

He hated her. Hated her for doing that easily.

"Um, that was, that was Angel."

Figures, he thought. It never failed, the moment he had a chance, the moment things were going good for him, Angel inevitably came along and bolloxed the whole thing up.

"He's um, he's coming by to pick me up. He wants to talk about some stuff. So, um, do you want me to put another movie in for you?"

He had no idea what to say to her. He was stunned. This was too much even from her. One moment they were talking, really talking like they hadn't in so long, and now she was running off to Angel. All he had to do was call, and Buffy came running like a little lap dog, eager to lick his hand, and probably other parts as well.

"Wouldn't want to inconvenience you. Don't you have to get ready and all. Big date, shouldn't you be doing your hair?"

"Spike it's not a date, it's just. . . Look if you need me to stay."

He got up and walked away from her.

"Just go. Angel's waiting, right. Just get out of here. I don't need you."

"Spike. . ."

"I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT!"

"Fine, I'll be back."

When he heard the door close behind her, Spike sank down and started crying. Stupid bitch. She wasn't supposed to go. Didn't she know that.

**********

Angel closed the laptop, cutting off the sound of Spike's sobbing along with the video feed.

"Harmony!"

"Yeah boss?" the perky blond peaked her head in the office door.

"Harmony, I need you to go to Spike's, and get him to sign these papers, it's for his treatment."

"Uh boss. I would, you know I would, it's just the Slayer's there, and there was this thing with her sister, and. . ."

"It's okay Harmony. She won't be there. I'm taking her out for a few drinks. I'll give you a ride over there, you can stay out of sight till we leave, and she'll never now you were there."

Chapter 9: Tough Love

"Knock knock," an all to perky voice said. Spike watched in dim horror as the door to his apartment opened, and Harmony stepped through. She had an awful pink dress on with a matching scarf and jacket. Her knee high pink leather boots completed the Water Cooler Slut Barbie image.

"Harm, what on earth are you doing here?"

"Can't a girl worry about her blondie bear?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, and gave her his best, go away you crazy bint look.

"Actually, it's a work thing. You need to sign this. It's about your treatment." She sat next to him on the couch and held out a several page contract and a pen.

"Harm, I can't sign it."

To illustrate his point he tried to take the pen from her, but he couldn't close his fingers tightly enough around it and it fell to the floor.

"Oh god, you poor thing. You're really helpless aren't you?" she started to stroke his cheek sympathetically.

"Stop that, I'm not a bloody kitten." He tried to shrug her hand away.

"I was only trying to help. I want to help. I'm worried about you. All alone with the Slayer. I mean, what were they thinking? She could do anything to you, and you'd be helpless to stop her."

"Harm," his voice was exasperated.

"Anyone could," she said the words slowly, like she did when something occurred to her. Her eyes travelled up and down his body, and suddenly she was smiling.

"You shouldn't be here Harm," he was nervous, "She could come back any minute. And you know how she is. That temper. She's still mad about that that time with her sister." Her hand was on his leg. This couldn't be happening. It was Harmony for god's sake. The worst excuse for an evil fiend that there had ever been.

"Look Harm, baby, I couldn't take it if anything happened to you. You need to leave." She was straddling him. Her hands running up and down his chest. Despite himself, he could feel his dick harden as she squeezed her legs and started to rub up against him.

For a moment he thought about it. After all he was desperate for some release, any kind of release, and Buffy had left to be with Angel. But he knew Buffy would never forgive him. And he'd been so close. No he had to get rid of Harmony.

"Harmony go."

Her hand went between them, and she was unzipping his jeans. Then she began to stroke him. She leaned in close to whisper in his ear. "I don't think so baby." her hand moved off of him, to hitch up her skirt, then she grabbed him again and pulled herself down around his dick. She moaned as he entered her, then she leaned back, so he could see her face once again. Her golden eyes looked into his as she said, "It's time to play."

**********

So far her conversation with Angel was going nowhere. They were just going over the same old ground. He claimed he could use the resources of Wolfram & Hart to do good, and she thought they were just using him as part of some scheme. That that place would end up corrupting him.

"Look, Angel, I appreciate you're trying to work things out, but we obviously can't agree on this, and shouting at each other isn't doing any good. I need to get back."

"To Spike."

"Yeah, he needs me."

"No, he doesn't. Look I have people who can take care of him. You don't have to do this."

"No, I want to. He's my friend, and I'm partly responsible for what happened to him."

"You're not responsible. Spike always leaps before he looks. Be honest Buffy, you're just using him to make me jealous."

"What?! Angel my relationship with Spike has nothing to do with you."

"Relationship? So it's a relationship now?"

"What it is is none of your business. But yeah, Spike and I have a relationship. That's what happens when people stick around. When they don't run off. Relationships develop."

"Please Buffy, how can you call it a relationship when you can't even tell the guy you love him?"

"What was that?"

"Nothing, I'm just saying is it really a relationship, or are you just trying to replace me. You know, one vampire with a soul is just like any other. Is that it?"

"How do you know what I have or haven't said to Spike?"

"I don't KNOW. But I can gu-"

"Oh my god. Angel have you been spying on us? What did you bug Spike's apartment?"

"Buffy that's ridiculous. How would I even do that."

"Hello, evil law-firm, with evil scientists. God, you really did it, didn't you? You're unbelievable."

"Buffy wait. Look I-"

"No I don't want to hear it. I can't hear this. Just leave me alone."

He didn't try to follow her as she ran off, he just sipped his drink. It was too bad Buffy was mad at him. He really did want to come to an understanding with her, there was just no way he could explain why he was at Wolfram & Hart. Even if he told her, she wouldn't believe him, there was no way he could ever prove there had been such a person as Conner.

Still he hadn't meant to let it slip about spying on her. She might never forgive him for that. But that was okay. He knew, they had no future. He'd accepted that a long time ago. However much he might want her, might love her, he knew she deserved better. She deserved the normal life she had always wanted, a life without vampires. Especially Spike.

It didn't matter that she was mad at him. She would get back to Spike only to find him and Harmony going at it. She'd hurt Spike by coming to see him, and Angel was sure that the younger vampire would take the first opportunity to strike back at Buffy.

He went back to his car. He should be able to get back to his office in time to watch the show.

**********

When her cold pussy surrounded him, he gave in. He knew he shouldn't be doing this, but it felt so good. Next it occurred to him that the best way to get rid of Harmony would be to come as quickly as possible and before her. But pride wouldn't let him. It was bad enough that she'd called him helpless, he wasn't going to let her think he couldn't hold his own sexually any more.

But then she pulled back, adjusting herself, so he could go deeper in her, and so she could look at him.

"It's time to play."

And he saw her demon. That's when he knew there was no way this could end well for him. Even if it was Harmony.

He raised his arms up between them, and pushed her back. She wasn't in a very stable position, and he had timed it as she'd been rising up off of him, so she fell back to the floor. He scrambled to his feet, knowing that with his hands useless, they were his best weapon.

"That wasn't very nice. I was just starting to enjoy myself."

He thought of telling her to leave, but he knew what those yellow eyes meant. The more he told her to leave, the more she would insist on staying. Suddenly he wondered if giving in to her might not have been better. That might have bored the demon. No one knew better than him that what the demon loved most of all was to be fought. To feel the victim struggle.

She got to her feet and moved in on him. He tried to kick her, but she got out of the way and before he knew it she had thrown him back onto the bed. His head hit the cross-pipe on the headboard.

She was on top of him. Before his head was quite clear, he could feel her holding his arms above his head as she tied that awful pink scarf around his hands and the railing of the headboard.

"You know baby, this could have been good for both of us. But no. You were always so selfish. Whenever you wanted sex it was 'Harmony get you ass over here' but what about my needs? What about when I needed to be touched? Did you ever even think about that?"

"Harm-"

"No, I'm talking here Spike." She straddled his face bringing her quim directly over his mouth. "Alright, so maybe you did take care of my needs. Sometimes." She stroked his face, and ran her fingers through his hair. "Come on baby. Devour me. The way only you can."

He laughed at her. "You fucking bitch, you think I'm going to go down on you? I always knew you were stupid Harm, but this, this takes the bloody cake." He bent his legs, he was either about to make a fool of himself, or show her just who was the fighter here.

He pushed off from the bed with his lower body, swinging his legs up and around, grabbing Harmony by the throat with his calves. In a quick motion he pulled, flipping her over and off of him. Then, while she was picking herself up off the floor he pulled his legs up to his chest, and rolled, so that he was kneeling, facing the wall.

He knew there was no way his fingers could untie the scarf, but he thought maybe if he pulled hard enough it might break. He pulled and horrible pain spread up and down his arms. A sick feeling rushed through his stomach. The damn scarf was holding and he realized that his arms were more likely to give than the scarf. One good hard yank and he's be free, leaving his hands still tied to the bed.

He looked over his shoulder at Harmony. She'd gotten up and taken off all her cloths except for the pink boots and the pink lace bra she was now removing.

"You never change. I mean I gave you the best years of my life. I loved you, I would have done anything for you. But no. First chance you get, what do you do? Stake me." She pulled a knife off the kitchen counter. Suddenly loosing his hands again didn't seem so bad to Spike as he remembered that only a few hours ago Buffy had used that same knife to slice cucumber for a salad.

"I mean, I didn't care about the ring. It was tacky anyway. I would have given it to you if you'd just asked." He pulled hard against the scarf. The pain was horrible this time. He saw his skin tear around the stitches, but he didn't come free. Instead he almost passed out from the pain.

Harmony was behind him, her breasts pressed against his back. She put the knife to his throat while her other hand grabbed his dick and started stroking him.

"What's wrong baby, is the Big Bad scared?" Her fangs bit into his throat and she began sucking in time to her stroking his dick. He cried out. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd been bitten. The last time another vampire had overcome him, had made him submit. The man, the warrior, were humiliated, but the demon was aroused and he came.

"You see. Selfish." She flipped him back over, forcing him to lie back down on the bed. She put the knife under the hem of his shirt and cut it open. Then she ripped his jeans off of him.

She lay on top of him her lips and teeth red from his blood. Then she kissed him. He tasted his own blood on her lips and her tongue, and the taste made him hard all over again.

"That's a good boy," she mounted him, "Oh Spike baby, see it doesn't have to hurt," she began moving up and down on him, "Much," she ran the knife down his chest, cutting him, but not deeply. She then began to lick the wound, until she was near his throat.

A new fear filled Spike. Harmony didn't know anything about being a vampire, except what he had taught her. She'd been an accident, or maybe her sire had simply been killed before she awoke from her turning. In either case Harmony didn't know the ramifications of what she was doing. If she bit him just right while they were having sex, if their blood mixed, then they would be mated. As it was by forcing him to have sex she'd already dominated him. Had he still been a master vampire she would now be the new master.

"Harm baby, is that good? Do you like it?"

"You taste sweet, and tangy, and strong."

"That's right baby, you go on cutting me. You go on drinking. I'll do anything you want, you know that baby?" It was all right if she drank his blood, as long as she didn't bite him. There was no way he could stand being mated to Harmony.

"Well, yeah," she rose back up, concentrating more on riding him than drinking him.

He started to move under her. No longer fighting her, but trying to get her off. Hoping to distract her that way. Hoping Buffy would come back soon, hopefully with a stake.
 

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