Title-The Evil Inside

Author-jypzrose or Lisa @ : Jypzrose@aol.com

Disclaimer-I wish they belonged to me.

Summary- Think 'The Shining' meets 'Rose Red'. Spike and Buffy are trapped in a house. I know, been done. But not like this. R and R. Set outside of current BtVS storyline. Buffy didn't die in The Gift.

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PROLOGUE

In 1973, Robert Lowell bought a plot of land on the outskirts of a town named Sunnydale. He thought it would be a nice place to raise a family. He immediately set about building a house. The house was to be gift to his wife, and it was built to her whim.

The wife, whose name was Sara, was young and beautiful. She had cornflower blue eyes, and hair as black as night. Her skin was the color of fresh milk, her lips the shade of blood. Her small frame was lush, with full breasts and softly curved hips. Her face held the innocense of a child, and her heart. . .

Well, her heart was as black as her hair. You see, Sara was a child of the dark. Her greatest wish was to become one of the creatures that roamed the night.

When her husband had shown her the land he'd bought, her blue eyes had flashed with delight. Sara knew nothing of hellmouths, but she could feel the evil radiating from the very ground she stood on. Sense it's power in the air.

So Sara had cried out in happiness, flinging herself into her startled husband's arms. She begged him to start building immediately. Robert, who couldn't deny her anything, complied. And by the following weekend, the ground was broken, and building began.

~ ~ ~

Things did not go well from the beginning. Robert had a hard time finding a construction crew in town to do the work. He'd finally had to hire one from L. A. And before the house was finished, two crews had quit.

"This place is evil." The large, black, rather superstitious man in Robert's opinion, had said, before leaving with his men. Robert had shrugged off the comment, and immediately found another company to complete the job. By the time the house was done, a total of 10 crewmen from three separate company's had gone missing. They were never seen again.

~ ~ ~

The day the young couple moved into the house, Sara spent her time roaming through the rooms. She relished the power she felt pulsating from within the very walls surrounding her. She walked into the parlor, smiling at the deceptively normal decorations.

The hardwood floors gleamed in the sunlight, in this room and throughout the house. A large area rug in the colors of the sunset stretched across the floor, stopping at the edge of the brick fireplace that spanned the south wall. Pictures of her wedding day adorned the mantle. A large picture of a forest at night hung above the mantle. The walls were painted a soft yellow, and lace curtains adorned the bay window adjacent to the fireplace.

The furnishings were antique, painstakingly restored to their former glory. From the high back couch with it's cherrywood trim and floral patterned cushions, to the matching chairs. The couch table was the only new piece in the room, stretching across the back of the couch. A handmade lace table runner was draped over it, and a large milkglass vase filled with fresh wildflowers stood in it's center.

Sara wandered out of the parlor and crossed the foyer. The small three legged table next to the heavy door was also adorned with a vase full of colorful flowers. Lace curtains graced the window it stood in front of, and a long burgundy rug ran from the door, down the hall and to the kitchen. The walls here were painted a smooth cream color, to offset the color of the wood trim.

Sara paused in the dining room door, sweeping her eyes over the large cherry wood table and chairs with matching china armoire and buffet table. No rug was on the floor in here, and the walls were painted blue.

In the kitchen, the white appliances gleamed in the fading light. A large butcher block table dominated the center of the room.

Sara quickly left the kitchen, walking down the long hall back to the foyer. She soaked up the evil that permeated the house deep into her pores. She made her way outside, wanting to see the structure in the seconds before night fell.

Stepping into the yard, Sara turned and looked at her perfect home.

It was simple design. Basically box shaped with a front porch that ran across the entire front of the house. The porch was white, with two large and four small, sturdy support columns holding up the awning. The wood siding was stained a deep maroon.

With a large smile, Sara Lowell watched as the sun descended in the sky. As night surrounded the house, wonderful images of blood and death filled her head. She sighed contentedly as she walked back into her house.

It was time to go see her husband.

****

"Oh, dear." Giles gasped.

"What's the matter Giles?" Dawn asked, looking up from her laptop computer.

"The possible nest I sent Spike and Buffy to,. ." he paused to clean his glasses.

"Yeah?" Dawn prompted. She really needed to get her paper done for Psychology.

"What? Oh, ye. It would seem the house has a bloody history."

"This is Sunnydale. Land of the Hellmouth. All the history is bloody." Dawn reminded him, turning back to her computer.

"Er, yes. Apparently the young wife of the man who built the house killed her husband."

"Uh huh." Dawn murmured, fingers flying across the keyboard. "How?" she asked absently.

"It would seem she gutted him while having sexual relations with him."

"Eeeww." Dawn exclaimed, looking up at him. "Sometimes I wish you guys still thought I was too young to know about certain things." the 20 year old finished, grimacing. Giles smiled at her affectionately as she went back to her work.

"Sometimes I do too." He sighed, feeling incredibly old.

THE EVIL INSIDE

Chapter One

"Uh, Pet?"

"Yeah?"

"What're we doin' here again?"

"Vampire nest."

The two blondes, one vampire, one Slayer, were standing in the very overgrown lawn of a very dark and foreboding house. It reminded Spike of the main house in 'Psycho', and he half expected to see Anthony Perkins in a dress to come storming down the front steps, wielding a butcher knife.

"You sure?" Spike asked, staring up at it.

"That's what Giles said." Buffy replied, shrugging.

"Uh, huh." Spike twisted the ax he was carrying nervously in his hand.

"Well. I guess we better go in." Buffy started towards the house, pausing when she noticed Spike wasn't following. "Spike?"

"I'm not goin' in there." he said simply, his blue eyed gaze locked on the dark upper windows of the house. Buffy arched an eyebrow at him.

"Why not?" His eyes flicked to her briefly before returning to the house. The Slayer suddenly realized he was afraid. With shock filled eyes, she took in his rigid stance. He stood with his feet slightly apart, his left hand twisting his ax, his right hand clenching and unclenching into a fist. He looked ready to attack anything that came at them. Be it a demon or a racoon.

"It's watching us." Spike said uneasily. He glared at Buffy when she snorted.

"Awww. Is big bad Spikey afraid of the nasty house?" she taunted. His eyes narrowed into slits, but he didn't rise to the bait. He returned his gaze to the imposing structure before them. Spike had no clue where this was coming from. He was the Big Bad, not afraid of anything. But this house was, as Buffy would say, really giving him the wiggins.

"Come on, Spike. You're not going to earn redemption by standing around. Let's get this over with." Buffy said, starting to feel uneasy herself. Only minutes before, she had thought it was just a house. Granted, a creepy, dilapidated ,ugly house, with it's peeling paint and sagging front porch. But a house just the same. However, if Spike was hesitant about going in, maybe there was something to worry about.

Spike scowled at her words, knowing she was right. He glanced over at the woman who was the reason he was fighting the good fight. It had been five years since his fumbling confession of love. Five years since their defeat of Glorificus, or Glory the Hell Bitch, as Spike called her. When Doc had stabbed Spike and thrown him off the tower, Spike had managed to get a grip on the demon and pulled him along for the ride. When they had crash landed on the bottom, Doc was dead, and Spike was seriously injured, nearly staking himself on a piece of the broken crate he had landed on.

Buffy had kept Glory busy long enough for the time of the ceremony to have past. When Ben had reclaimed his body, Buffy rushed up the tower, freeing Dawn. She never saw Giles kneel next to Ben. Never saw her Watcher walk away from the now lifeless body of the intern.

But Spike had seen. And when Giles had come over to check on the blonde vampire's injuries, the two Englishmen shared a look of recognition- killer seeing killer.

Buffy had been checking on Spike, who was recovering in her basement, when Whistler showed up with some interesting news.

It seemed that the Powers That Be were impressed with all Spike had done to help with Glory. If Spike continued to fight on the side of the 'White Hats', he would earn his way into Heaven. He would not be turned human. Shanshu was promised to another vampire. But when Spike's time came, he would not go to Hell.

Spike only had to look at Buffy to make his decision.

So here he stood, outside of an old house that looked like it might take a bite out of them. All so he could go to Heaven. All because of the petite blonde that had captured his undead heart.

*Wanker* he called himself, before turning to Buffy.

"Right then. Let's get this show on the road." Spike hefted his ax and braced it on his shoulder. Flashing her a sexy grin, he sauntered towards the house, fighting the panic that grew with each step he took. Buffy fell into step beside him, casting concerned glances his way.

They climbed the porch steps carefully, eyeing the over hang with trepidation.

"Careful, luv. Don't want this thing to come down on us." Spike whispered. Buffy nodded, stepping carefully around the rotting boards.

A stake appeared in Buffy's hand as she reached for the doorknob with the other. She pulled her hand back when the door opened on it's own. The startled pair exchanged a look before Buffy cautiously stepped over the threshold. Spike followed close behind, immediately slipping into game face to see in the dark interior.

"Um, Spike?" Buffy started, edging closer to him.

"I know, Pet. Are you sure this is the place?" He asked again. Neither of them detected any other vampires in the house. The feeling of panic increased as Spike reached behind him and grabbed her wrist.

"That's what he said. I guess he was wrong." Buffy scanned the dim room, her own unease growing by the second. "Let's get outta here." she said, meeting his yellow eyes with her hazel ones.

"No arguments from me, luv." Spike turned towards the door, pulling her along with him. Just as he was about to step through to the porch, his hand fell away from her wrist. His ax landed with a loud clatter as Spike disappeared through the floor.

THE EVIL INSIDE

Chapter Two

"SPIKE!" Buffy screamed, landing on her knees to peer through the hole in the floor. Her heart was slamming against her chest, and fear clawed at her belly. "SPIKE!" she called again. God, please let him be alright.

"Slayer!" Relief flooded through her at the sound of his pain filled voice. If he could talk, he'd be fine.

"Are you alright?'

"Yeah. Except for this bloody piece of wood in my chest!" Fear slammed back into her.

"How close to your heart is it?"

"Close enough I'm afraid to move."

"Shit." she hissed.

"My sentiments exactly."

"Alright. I'm going to find my way down there. Try really hard not to move."

"Stupid, bint. Of course I'm not going to move." Spike muttered.

"I heard that, Fang boy." Buffy called down to him.

Spike rolled his yellow eyes, then began to assess his injuries. He was laying on the cold concrete floor, one leg resting on what looked like a trunk. His other leg and lower torso were piled under debris from the fall, something heavy resting dangerously close to his jewels.

Besides the piece of beam imbedded in his chest, Spike felt another piece buried in his shoulder. He had smacked his head on the floor, stunning him. Which was why it had taken him so long to answer Buffy when she'd called him.

Spike wondered if he'd imagined the fearful panic in her voice. *Just a pain induced fantasy* he thought to himself. After his first attempt at telling her how he felt, Spike had dropped the subject. He knew she'd never return his feelings, so he'd settled for the friendship that had begun to develop before they defeated Glory.

"Spike?" Buffy's voice called across the basement.

"Over here, Pet." He listened as Buffy stumbled her way across the room, not having the benefit of his night vision. He saw her poke her head around the large sheet covered object he laying next to.

"Hey there." she said, kneeling down next to him. She carefully started rifling through his pockets, searching for his lighter. Spike flinched against the sudden light when Buffy flicked the Zippo. She leaned closer to his chest, trying to see how close the wood was to his heart.

"Bad?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"No." she lied, a bright smile on her face. "Here, hold this." He slowly raised his hand so he could take the lighter from her. Buffy wiped her sweaty palms against her denim clad thighs. She then carefully gripped the wood, bracing a hand against his shoulder. "On three." He made an affirmative sound in his throat, bracing himself.

"One. . ." with one swift pull, it was out.

"Augh! Bloody hell." Spike cursed, his eyes rolling back in his head. Buffy ripped a strip off his red shirt, folded it, then pressed it against the wound.

"Let's get outta here." She said, taking the lighter from him and pressing his hand against the makeshift bandage. She turned and started removing the debris from his body. Spike reached up and pulled the sliver of wood out of his shoulder with a hiss. Then he helped Buffy kick off the rest of the plaster and wood.

Buffy helped him to his feet, then wrapped her arm around his waist. She held the Zippo in front of them so they could pick their way through the boxes and sheet covered furniture.

Buffy blinked back tears as she thought of how close she had come to losing him. In the last five years she had come to depend on him more than she thought was possible. When she had a problem, he was the first one she went to. He could make her laugh when she was upset. Let her beat on him when she was mad. Let her know when she was wrong, and told her things she didn't want to hear. She never had to pretend when she was with him. Spike had seen her at her worst, and he never judged her.

He was her partner in every way, save one. And for the last year or so, she had seriously been thinking about that one.

They made their way up the stairs and through the kitchen to the long hall that led to the foyer. They both forced themselves not to rush when the open door came into sight, not knowing if there were any more weak spots in the floor. They had just started to edge around the spot where Spike had fallen through, when the door swung shut with a resounding slam.

"What the. . ." Buffy whispered, leaving Spike's side to open the door.

"Careful, Slayer." Spike warned, scanning the room with his yellow eyes. He wanted out of this house, but he had a feeling that something wanted them to stay.

"I know." Buffy responded, sounding annoyed. Holding the light above her head, she carefully made her way around the hole to the door. She turned the knob and pulled. The door didn't budge. She tried twice more, using her full Slayer strength. Not even a creak occurred.

Then, Buffy lost her temper. With all the power in her deceptively small frame, Buffy began to rain a series of hits and kicks against the heavy wood. It didn't even leave a scuff mark.

"Pet." Punch. "Slayer." Kick. "BUFFY!" Buffy paused mid hit at the sound of her name.

"What?" She turned to Spike, who was smoking a cigarette he'd lit when Buffy had handed him the lighter, prior ro her onslaught on the door.

"It's not going to open." Buffy rolled her eyes.

"I figured that out about 5 punches ago. I was just venting frustration." When all he did was raise his scarred eyebrow, Buffy stuck her tongue out at him.

At the sight of her pink tongue, Spike started thinking thoughts he knew better than to be thinking. Tramping down hard on the desire that coursed through him, he finished smoking his cigarette.

"What're you doing, Pet?" he asked as she picked up his ax. Without answering him, she swung around in a wide arc, smashing the ax into the window to the right of the door. They both watched in shock as the metal of the blade shattered and fell, leaving the window unscathed.

"Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me." Buffy cried, throwing her hands up in the air.

"Language, Pet. What would Giles say?' Spike teased, trying to ease his fear.

"Whatever." Buffy said, rolling her eyes. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. "Do you have your cell?"

"Bugger." Spike sighed. He had totally forgotten about the blasted thing. He pulled it out, flipped it open and turned it on. Then began cursing violently when it told him there was no available signal.

"Language, Spike. What would Giles say?" Buffy repeated, taking the phone from him.

"That you're a bad influence on me." Spike countered. Buffy snorted in response. Sighing heavily, she closed the phone and slipped it back into his duster pocket.

"You were right. We shouldn't of come in here." She said, looking around the room. Now it was Spike's turn to snort.

"No shit."

"Yeah. That helps." There were two open doors on either side of them, and along hall that led to the kitchen. A long arched staircase rose to the second level on their right.

"Should we try to find another way out?" She asked, turning to face him. Spike had pulled the cloth way from his wound, checking to make sure it had stopped bleeding before tossing the piece of shirt away. Go, go vampire healing, Buffy thought.

"We need to find some candles or something before we use all the fluid up." Spike said, indicating his lighter. "Then we should set ourselves up in one of these rooms down here and wait for your mates to come looking for us." After 5 years, Spike still said 'your mates' when referring to the Scoobies, even though they accepted him.

"I guess it's as good an idea as any." Buffy agreed, walking to the door on her right. Spike followed her, leaning over her shoulder to scan the room when she paused in the doorway. It seemed to be some sort of parlor, the furniture sheet covered, and a huge fire place against the back wall.

Every nerve in Buffy's body tingled when Spike's chest brushed against her back. She sucked in a breath at the contact, praying that he didn't notice, Walking further into the room, Buffy felt Spike's eyes burning into her back.

*Oh, yeah. He noticed. Damn vampire hearing.* she cursed.

Spike watched the petite blonde cross the room. A slow smile spread across his face as he realized that he hadn't mistaken her reaction to his nearness. Her heartbeat had picked up when he'd brushed against her, and he'd heard her gasp. *Could she? Did she?* he wondered, feeling some of his unease at being trapped slip away.

"Bingo!" she said, walking back to him with a small candelabra. After lighting the candles, Spike flipped the lighter closed, then slipped the hot metal back into his pocket. Pulling out a cigarette, he lit it against a candle, then leaned on the doorframe. Spike blew out a plume of smoke as he looked down at Buffy. She was staring at him as if she had never seen him before.

"So, Pet." Spike's voice practically caressed her as he spoke. "What shall we do while we wait?"

Buffy blinked a couple of times, trying to break herself out of her stupor. The candle light played over the sharpness of his face, making him seem even more beautiful than usual. His voice sounded even more sensual, and Buffy's mind was screaming at her to do what she had been wanting to do for over a year.

Buffy's fear of rejection was what finally snapped her back to reality. Spike hadn't said the word 'love' to her since that night all those years ago. And she wasn't about to throw herself at somebody who didn't want her.

"I don't know. I guess sit down and relax. We haven't had any down time in a while." Buffy suggested, shrugging.

"Relax? In a house that's doing it's best to keep us here? Not bloody likely." Spike muttered, casually smoking his cigarette.

"Well, do you have a better idea?" Buffy snapped, stalking back into the room. Spike watched the way her ass moved under the snug denim of her jeans as she put the candles down on the couch table.

"One or two." he purred, as she pulled the dusty sheet off the high back couch. Buffy paused in her actions as his words sunk in. *Is Spike flirting with me?* she asked herself, turning her eyes to him. He was leaning against the door frame, relaxed, still smoking.

Spike felt her eyes come to rest on him, and he forced himself to stay still. He wouldn't make a move unless she responded.

Spike heard Buffy's heart pick up again as she continued to stare at him. A smile quirked his lips as he raised his cigarette for the final drag.

He almost choked on the smoke when the sound of her heartbeat pulsed through his brain. He could suddenly 'see' her blood rushing through her veins, and he knew that it would taste rich and sweet. A brief image of them naked, Spike draining her as he fucked her slammed into his head.

Spike stepped away from the frame, shaking his head to clear it.

"Spike? You okay?"

"Yeah." Spike crushed the cigarette under his boot, feeling shaken by the overpowering bloodlust that had just come over him.

"You sure?" Buffy walked over to him, surprised when he took a step away from her.

"Yeah. I'm fine." He gave her a tight smile, then stepped around her into the room. She watched as he walked over to one of the chairs, pulling the sheet off. He sank down into it, wearily rubbing his hand over his face.

Buffy stared at him in confusion for a moment, before moving back to the couch. She sat down, pulled her feet up next to her, then rested her chin in her hand. After a few minutes, Buffy felt herself drift off.

The Evil Inside-chapter 3

Spike watched her as she slept, his mind turning over what had happened. He hadn't felt bloodlust that powerful in years. Not since he first got the chip, and his demon had railed against the electronic leash. He had obsessed over what he had lost for over a year. Then he had woken up one day, and realized he was in love with the Slayer. Wrong on so many levels, but still the best thing that had ever happened to him. It had calmed the demon, eased the bloodlust. And ever since Whistler had appeared, promising redemption, Spike had found an inner calm and balance that he hadn't thought was possible for a demon.

But what had scared him the most about the episode, was the raging hard on he had gotten. And when she had innocently asked him if he was okay, he'd desperately fought against the urge to make the vision a reality. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to sink his aching cock and fangs into her warm body. Hear her screams of pleasure and pain. Watch as desire and fear warred for dominance in her eyes.

Just thinking about it was making his jeans uncomfortable.

*We need to get out of this house.* he thought. Spike didn't know how he knew, but it was the house that had caused his demon to wake up with a vengeance. Spike closed his eyes, leaning his head against the back of the chair. He'd stake himself before he hurt her.

"Spike." his name was a breathless moan on her lips. He opened his eyes at the sound. Buffy was now laying across the length of the couch, her head thrown to the side, facing him, and one knee bent and resting against the back of the couch. Spike's eyes widened as he watched her hips began to gyrate against the cushions, one hand sliding down to tease her breast, the other going to the apex of her thighs. She slid her hand across her mound through her jeans.

"Spike." she whimpered, as her movements became more frantic, desperately seeking her release.

Realization slammed into Spike as the sweet smell of her arousal reached him. With a moan, he quickly stood and went to her side. Kneeling beside her, he brought his left hand up to cover hers between her thighs.

Buffy's eyes flew open at the contact, coming to focus on him. Embarrassment filled her as she realized that she wasn't dreaming anymore. He touched a finger to her lips to keep her silent.

"Let me take care of that for you, luv." he whispered, lowering his head to capture her erect nipple in his mouth. Buffy arched her back with a whimper and his cool tongue teased her through her tank top.

"Spike, please." she gasped, her fingers twining in his soft hair. With his free hand, he pushed the shirt up, revealing her bare breasts. He immediately brought his mouth back to her, losing himself in the taste of her skin.

Buffy sucked in air, her fingers tightening in his hair, pushing him closer. She groaned in disappointment when his lips left her heated skin.

"Don't worry, Pet." He whispered as he began trailing cool kisses across the valley between her breasts.

"Oh, God." she breathed when his mouth fastened onto her other nipple, giving it the same attention he had given the first. She tried to move the hand Spike had anchored against her core, growling when he tightened his grip.

"No need to do the work when I'm right here, luv." he whispered huskily against her skin.

"Promise." she gasped. He raised his head from her breast, the heat in his blue eyes searing hers. He gave her a wolfish grin.

"Promise. But don't rush me. I've waited a long time for this." Buffy could see the emotions raging through his eyes and wondered how he'd been able to keep them pent up for so long.

"Kiss me." She demanded.

"With pleasure." He leaned forward and captured her lips in the first real kiss they'd shared since Willow's 'My Will Be Done' spell all those years before. Buffy tugged her hand from Spike's and buried both her hands in his soft hair. She parted her lips, sucking his tongue into her mouth to battle with hers. God, she wanted to devour him, and she pulled him closer. The roughness of his shirt scraped across her nipples, causing her to whimper helplessly.

Buffy's shaking fingers traveled away from his hair down to his shoulders. She began plucking at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin. Spike broke away from her long enough to shrug out of the red shirt, then pulled his t-shirt over his head. Buffy sat up and turned quickly. Spike stopped her before she could slip off the couch and into his lap.

Huffing in frustration, Buffy glared at him. Spike chuckled as he raised himself up on his knees and gently pushed her back against the cushions. Leaning forward, he blazed a trail of fire with his tongue, lips and teeth from her collar bone to the snap of her jeans. A fine sheen of sweat broke out across her skin when she felt his teeth graze her abdomen. Her nails raked across his shoulders as he used his mouth to open her jeans. He brought his hands up to the waist band and Buffy arched her hips so he could pull them away from her flushed body.

He stopped to pull off her shoes and socks, then pulled the denim and the scrap of lace she called underwear the rest of the way off.

Spike sat back on his heels for a moment. His eyes ran over every curve, memorizing the body he'd dreamed about for five years.

"Spike?" Buffy gasped, her tone pleading. Spike eyes burned into hers as he raised her leg up, brushing his lips against her ankle. With alternating licks and bites, Spike worked his way down her leg, eliciting a series of gasps and moans from her.

"God dammit, Spike." she growled when he bypassed her aching center to work his way up her other leg. "I'm dyin' here." she finished, her hands clenching and unclenching on the couch. Spike placed on final kiss on her leg, then placed her foot on the floor.

"Can't have that, now can we?" Then his hands were under her butt, raising her up to meet his demanding mouth. Buffy reared up as his tongue dove between her slick folds. He explored every inch of her with his tongue, sliding inside her to lap at the juices pooled there.

Buffy felt as if she was on the verge of shattering as he made love to her with his mouth. A years worth of fantasies didn't even come close to the reality. When she felt the tip of his tongue swipe across her throbbing clit, her fingers buried themselves in his hair, pushing him closer.

"Oh, God." she sobbed, as she felt him push two fingers in her and stroke her in a slow rhythm. "Ohgodohgodohgod." she chanted, her chest heaving in ragged pants, her hips bucking wildly beneath him. With a shriek of his name, her entire body tensed as her orgasm crashed through her. Spike sucked hard on her sensitive nubbin, drawing out her climax until she was a quivering mass of nerve endings.

Spike raised his head and looked into her dazed eyes. He gently tugged her arms, sliding her into his lap. Buffy immediately wrapped her arms around his neck, crushing her mouth to his. Spike pulled her tightly to him, moaning as she ground her heat against his denim covered erection. He didn't realize that his demon had surged forward until the taste of her blood filled his mouth. With a growl, he sucked hard on her tongue, causing her to whimper.

Bright, erotic images of Buffy lying back on the couch, blood pouring out of her neck as he pounded into her flashed behind his eyes. His now clawed hands raked down her back, causing her to cry out in pain. That sound, mixed with the smell of her blood broke through his haze. In one swift move, Spike shoved Buffy back onto the couch and back peddled away from her.

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