DISCLAIMERS: There’s this guy, see? His name’s Joss. He tells me he owns all rights to BTVS. He also tells me to stop calling, writing and standing outside his house. Well, actually, his lawyers said that. What’s that all about??
THANKYOU: I can’t tell you how-and I know I keep saying this, lol-how great it is to read your reviews. I give you all big kisses!
MEANWHILE, BACK AT THE RANCH: J.R. is in the den, a glass of scotch in his hand, smiling evilly...oh, wait, wrong show. Buffy left Spike in the Bronze. She also left Riley in the Bronze, but hey, wouldn’t you? We pick up right where we left off, actually.
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The first person Spike bumped into as he left the washroom happened to be Riley Finn. Literally bumped into, as in smacked heads as they rounded the corner of the hallway, staggering slightly from the impact. Spike held his head and groaned, giving Riley a nasty look. The chip had gone off slightly, giving him a jolt. Enough to be taken as a warning. The only gratification was in the fact that Riley was also holding his head like a big wanker. Well, that and he’d just messed around with the loser’s girl.
Riley quickly recovered from the collision and grabbed Spike roughly by the upper arm, frowning.
Where‘s Buffy?” he demanded. Spike narrowed his eyes at him and yanked his arm out of Riley’s grip.
“Hey! Leave off mate.” He gave Riley a slight smirk. “Buffy left.”
“She left? What happened?” Riley demanded. “If you hurt her-”
“Not even close, soldier boy,” Spike said, feeling victorious. He looked at the overblown field hand in front of him. Pictured himself shoving his Buffy-scented fingers under his nose, smirking at him. Smell that sweetcheeks? That’s something I got from Buffy tonight. She gave it up so easily too. Barely put up a fight. Thought about how furious he would be as he realized that Spike had gotten a piece of his girlfriend, and right under his nose too. Oh, this was going to be sweet.
“Buffy met up with a vamp. Went out the back way to battle it.” Spike couldn’t believe he was saying this malarkey. He was covering for the Slayer! Bollocks.
“And you left her on her own?” Riley shook his head. “She needs backup. She went after it with no weapons, no tracking device, no cover team. What was she thinking?”
“Slayer’s a big girl. She can handle herself in a fight.” He started to walk away but Riley stepped in front of him, stopping him from leaving. Spike paused and looked up at him menacingly.
“How long ago did she leave?” Riley snapped.
“Bugger off, prat.” Spike stepped closer. Riley gave him his best steely-eyed glare.
“I’ll be watching you. I know you’re up to something, and when I find out...” Riley trailed off meaningfully. Spike stared back at him, not breaking eye contact, and in the back of his mind he considered smashing the commando right in his lumpy face with the nearest chair. It would be worth the week-long migraine.
Neither one moved for a few more seconds till Spike grew tired of the game. He gave Riley a smug grin and started walking away. “See you around, Private Joker.”
“It’s Lieutenant,” Riley said coldly. Spike, still backing up, gave him an enthusiastic salute that turned into the finger. Riley didn’t move, just silently watched him walk away. Wasn’t he wearing a coat earlier?
What does Buffy see in that milk-fed farmboy? Spike shook his head as he walked, trying to imagine what the guy had to offer her. Holding hands by the fire? Walks in the park? A passel of brats? Please. All those things weren’t Buffy. The girl wasn’t made for PTA meeting and carpools. She was made for killing and fighting. She was made for fucking.
She was made for me. The revelation startled him. He stopped dead in his tracks, horrified by his thoughts. What the hell was he thinking? There was no way he was gonna get pussywhipped into mooning over The Slayer of all people. Spike started walking again, angry. He’d gotten what he wanted from her and it was time to move on. Do a good round of evil. He could go down to main Street and rip out the wiring on the traffic lights, sit back, and enjoy the show. Maybe someone would be thrown from their car and he could get a few drinks in before they kicked off. At the very least it would be funny.
Spike grinned and reached for his cigarettes. Which were in his duster. Which the Slayer had. Dammit. He pictured her walking back to her dorm, the leather flowing around her bare legs, all that sweet skin underneath, that smooth, delicious skin of hers. God, she’d been amazing. So soft, and hard all at once. And her heat. It had made him crazy, made him beg. He licked his lips, thinking how Buffy had moaned when he was inside her, how she’d clutched at him as the waves ripped through her. That was all done now. He was through with the Slayer and the Scoobies for good. He had his own place now, a cozy little crypt all to himself. No Watcher giving him frowning looks, no Harris and his stupid basement and little sex-demon girlfriend. No Witch with her sending him sorry-for-you-and -your-chip-problem glances. He was through with the lot of ‘em. His footsteps slowed and he looked up, finding himself standing at the tree in front of her house.
The Summer’s home was dark, but there was one light on. Spike leaned against the tree and watched, waiting. He finally saw her as she walked past her window. Just a brief glimpse, but it made his breath quicken nonetheless. The Slayer must of come home instead of going to the dorm. Didn’t want to risk being seen in her current state of undress by the little Wicca. He grabbed the lowest branch and pulled himself up to her bedroom.
Buffy heard the slight noise he made and whirled around to find Spike at her window. “Spike! What the hell are you doing?”
“Just what it looks like Slayer,” he answered, flashing his usual grin at her. “Coming in.”
“Well, you can just turn around and go right back out again.” She crossed her arms and frowned, trying to look menacing in her ‘Yummy Sushi’ pajamas. “I really need to de-invite you.”
“A little late for that, don’t you think, luv?” Spike said, pleased with himself. “You’ve invited me in already tonight.”
Buffy’s eyes narrowed at him. “Shut it, Spike. Don‘t remind me. It‘s already been forgotten,” she said, trying to play like the evening hadn‘t affected her, but her blush betrayed her.
Spike looked at her damp hair and freshly scrubbed face. She smelled good, fresh, like rain and flowers. “You showered.” He walked over to her bed, ignoring the appalled look she sent him and laid down on his back, arms behind his head. He smiled sensually, stretching slowly. “Fancy another go, pet?” Buffy grabbed the front of his black t-shirt and yanked him up. “Hey! Watch it! I don’t have anything to cover my clothes if they get torn...” His duster was thrown in his face, cutting him off.
“Get out,” she hissed, eyes flitting over to her bedroom door. Spike noticed.
“Scared we’ll be too loud, sweetheart?” He came over to her and leaned close. “We could be very, very quiet. I could make love to you nice and slow this time. I could lay with you right here on your bed, just rocking together slowly, kissing and-”
“I can’t,” Buffy said, her voice low and husky. “I-”
He cut her off with a kiss. Not the searing, blinding kisses he’d given her at The Bronze, but a soft, gentle one. His lips traveled over to her ear, making her shiver as he licked her lightly. His mouth was cool but Buffy felt rather hot from the contact.
“Stop it!” Buffy pulled back and walked away, standing on the opposite side of the room. He didn’t say anything, just stood there, holding his coat and watching her. “Spike, you have to go. I can’t do this right now, ok? Riley is on his way over and-”
“Riley?” Spike stilled dangerously.
“Yes, Riley,” Buffy said. “He’s-”
“Oh no, no need to explain to me,” Spike interrupted her snidely. “If your loverboy is on his way for his turn at the Slayer then who am I to argue? Although you may have trouble explaining that to him.” He pointed to the purple lovebite he’d left on her neck, right on her pulse. “Maybe you can tell him all about how that horrid Hickey Demon attacked you in the ladies washroom.”
Buffy’s lip trembled a bit and she bit down on it, hard. He didn’t notice, too blinded by his jealousy. “Spike-”
“I’m off.” He yanked on his duster and stormed to her window, but then paused, one leg out. “Oh, by the way, Johnny Beefcake was looking for you when I came out of the bath. We had a little talk, the two of us.”
Buffy’s face fell. “What did you say?” she whispered, so low that he could barely hear her.
I told him how I fucked you hard and you loved every moment of it.
“I told him you went off to fight a nasty,” he said, hating himself for being so soft. She looked at him, eyes wide and he made a frustrated sound, pulling himself all the way off the sill, falling smoothly to the grass below. He brushed off his coat and turned to see Buffy at her window, leaning out.
“Thank you,” she said. “You didn’t have to do that for me. I-” Buffy stumbled a bit on the words, “I appreciate it.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, well, don’t mention it Slayer.” He turned away again, but had barely taken three steps when he heard her follow him out the window, dropping down lightly. Spike turned, surprised.
“Spike...” Buffy paused, uncertain. She stood in the damp grass, barefoot. “I-I need time.”
He sighed. “Time? What for? So you can play with your bloody Mr. Right? Pretend you don’t want me?” He shook his head. “Do what you want, Slayer. It makes no difference to me.”
“Is that true?” she asked when he went to move away from her. “You don’t care?”
“No,” Spike answered, too quickly. “No, I don’t care.”
“Fine.” Buffy turned away from him.
“Fine.” Spike crossed his arms in defiance.
“I suppose I’ll go back upstairs.” Buffy resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him.
“Yes, don’t let me keep you from loverboy. Off you go then, back to your room.”
“Oh, I will,” Buffy said crossly.
“Good. Carry on. Hope you have fun with Army Man.”
Buffy‘s shoulders slumped. “It’s never easy breaking up with someone.”
Spike scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself, Slayer. We’re not together, remember? So you’re not breaking up with me. There is no us.” He stormed off, incensed. Buffy’s mouth dropped open as she watched him make the Big Exit.
“I wasn’t talking about you, you complete moron.”
DISCLAIMERS: So, I’m all, ‘Hey, Joss, I really like those BTVS characters. Gonna write a little story about them.’ And he’s all, ‘Oh? Yeah? Well, too bad you won’t get anything, cause ME and I own it all!’ And I’m all, ‘Good for you. Like I care.’ And he’s all, ‘Uh huh. That’s right beeyatch.’ And I’m all, ‘Did you just say beeyatch? You are SO white!’
ONCE MORE: Thanks for reading! *pinches your rosy cheek* Ooooh! You are so cute!
THE WACKINESS CONTINUES: Last time on BTVS...Spike and Riley had words. Riley threatened Spike. Spike flipped him off. Buffy and Spike talked. Spike is a moron. Awww! Poor Spike! Now, it is a few days later. Buffy is patrolling, but really, she’s looking for Spike, who she hasn’t been able to find for days. This chapter takes place, loosely, in the ep ‘Goodbye Iowa’. Only, I have changed things as I want, cause, you know, I’m that way. There is no Prof. Walsh or Adam, just for the record.
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The backdoor of ‘Willy’s Place’ burst open as Spike was thrown out. He fell hard, bleeding from the fight, exhausted. Three large demons peered over him, disgusted expressions on their faces.
“That’s what you get for making war on the demon world!” A knobby-skinned demon spat at him.
“I can’t believe you would be so stupid as to show your face in here after what you’ve done!” the second demon added, his fly-eyes gleaming with hatred. “What did you expect? A welcome party?”
The third one, a small, wiry demon, stepped up. He had obviously joined in the fray after the fact, being too little to really damage Spike. Pulling his foot back, he kicked him sharply in the shin. “Ha! Take that!” Spike gave him a growl and he fled with a small squeak behind the other two.
“Word’s out, Spike. We don’t appreciate you killing our kind. Come back here again, and we just might forget Willy’s no-kill rule.” They turned their backs on him in contempt and left him laying in the alley. Spike rolled over, grunting.
“Oh bollocks, they got demon snot on my leather.” He slowly pulled himself up, catching his breath as his broken ribs jabbed him painfully in the side. “Bloody demons. All self-righteous and full of themselves. ‘Oh, we don’t like you anymore, Spike,’” he mimicked them sarcastically. “’You aren’t our friend anymore.’ Well, bugger them.” The effort of standing was too much, and he sank back down to the dirty pavement with a groan.
The front door of ‘Willy’s’ opened and the Buffy stormed in, to the collective dismay of most everyone sober enough to notice. She ignored the crowd and nodded to Willy, who stopped wiping up the Jurnis demon drool left on the bar from the previous brawl and came over reluctantly.
“You’re killing me, Slayer,” Willy whined, looking around the room. “This is very bad for business. You can’t keep coming in here. Drives away the cliental.”
“Oooh, geeze, and I’m supposed to care why?” Buffy asked, sarcasm evident.
“Look? What can I get you? You want some chicken wings? Here, I have a fresh plate right here for you from the guy who was just here. “ He pushed the spicy wings over to her, making Buffy pull back in revulsion.
“Eeew! No, I don’t want your left-over food, you freak!” She shook her head and grabbed him, pulling him close. “I’m looking for a vamp.”
“A vamp? Listen, Slayer, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I’m not a snitch anymore, ok? So you’ll just have to be on your merry way.” Willy’s eyes darted around wildly. Buffy pulled her hand back and punched him sharply in the nose. “Aargh! Ow! Oooh, that’s hurts! Why’d you have to do it so hard?” Willy shoved the filthy cloth he’d been holding against his now-bleeding nose. “Look, just tell me what you need and go, alright?”
“Fine. I need info on a vamp named Spike.”
“Spike?” Willy said in surprise.
“Yes, Spike. He disappeared four days ago. He knows I’ve been tracking him. I need to know where he is, and you‘re gonna tell me.” Buffy shook Willy slightly, making him whimper a little. She sighed. “Okay, you don’t have to cry about it. It’s just a nosebleed for heavens sake.”
Willy sniffed. “Yeah, easy for the girl with the Superman strength to say.” He wiped at his nose gingerly and looked at the blood on the rag. “Spike was here.” “He was? When?” Buffy demanded.
“Like, five minutes ago. He came in, ordered some food, got beat up. I guess he left after that.”
“He was beat up?” Buffy looked concerned. “Why?” Willy shrugged.
“The locals heard about how he kills demons now and didn’t take kindly to the news.” He put his hand out pleadingly. “Now go, please? Eight demons and four vamps have already left since you’ve been here. And the imp bachelor party looks like they are going to bolt at any minute.”
Buffy looked at the congealed spicy wings on the wood beside her. “Don’t blame me. Maybe you should talk to the cook. I mean, look at the deep fried grossness on this plate.” She made a face. “Now, where did he go?”
“Who? The cook?” Willy asked.
“The cook? No, you idiot. Spike,” Buffy snapped.
“He was thrown out the back way.” Willy pointed.
“I know where your backdoor is,” Buffy said. “I’ve tossed you through it a few times.”
Willy nodded. “Ah, the memories,” he said, all smarty-pants. She gave him a look and took off to the back alley. “And don’t come back!” he yelled after her, making sure it wasn’t loud enough for her to hear. A Chaos demon looked at him, it’s antlers dripping slime all over the place. Willy sighed.
Buffy opened the door, nose wrinkling. It smelled back here. Spike heard the door and turned his head to see the Slayer come out.
“Oh, just bloody fantastic. Just what I need to make my life even worse,” he said, annoyed.
“Spike!” Buffy came over to him, taking in the blood and bruises covering his face. “Wow, you're in even worse shape than I expected.”
Spike laughed a bit, wincing. “Don’t make me laugh Slayer, it hurts.” Buffy knelt down and touched his torn lip gently. “Ow.”
“Don’t ow me. Where have you been hiding all this time?” Buffy pulled the bandana off her hair and dabbed at him. “You are tough to track when you don’t want to be found.”
“I wasn’t hiding,” Spike said, offended. “Cowards hide. Big Bads don’t hide.” He watched her tie the little cloth around a nasty cut on his hand that he’d gotten from a swipe with a broken beer bottle. Avoiding the Slayer had been tough. He tried to think of something plausible. “I was...uh...shopping.”
“Shopping?” Buffy sat back and laughed. “For what?”
“For...stuff. What’s with the third degree here anyways? Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Spike struggled to stand up and Buffy hitched her shoulder under his arm, helping. “Isn’t Mr. Wonderful waiting for you?” He pulled away, swaying slightly.
Buffy looked down, avoiding his eyes. “Riley and I-” Something moved in the corner of her eye and she turned. It was twenty commandos, all holding tazer guns, all dressed in combat gear, and they all looked pissed. “Spike! Look out!”
Spike managed about half a step and collapsed, too beat up to fight. A dozen men surrounded him, guns ready. “Shock him,” the leader ordered, and Spike twitched with the impact of the blast.
“Spike!” Buffy cried, kicking the nearest one. He went down, clutching at his thigh in pain. Another swung his weapon at her but she ducked and punched him in the belly. He wheezed. She was already onto another, throwing him into the rest of the crowd, knocking a few more down, coming face to face with the one who had ordered the blast to Spike.
“Riley.”
“Buffy,” he answered, coldly. “I see you’ve met Hostile 17. We’ve been tracking him for a while now.”
Buffy shook her head. “What are you talking about? You’ve seen him at least three times in the past week.” The guy standing next to Riley frowned at him. Riley shook his head and made a ‘no, no, she’s crazy’ face.
“Stand down, Buffy. We’re taking him back.” Riley motioned and Spike was hauled up. He hung between two soldiers, limp as a wet noodle, out cold. Buffy stepped towards him but was stopped by five guns pointed her way. “I said stand down.”
Buffy stood, furious as they started dragging Spike away. “You’re doing this because we broke up, aren’t you?” she hissed at Riley’s back. He turned and came over to her.
“I’m doing this because it’s my mission,” he said slowly. “The fact that this is the thing you seem to be friends with is just a coincidence. I’d never purposely hurt you Buffy, you know that.” He gave her a sad look. “You know, my dad always said, ‘You should never treat a lady-’”
“Uh, yeah,” Buffy interrupted quickly, before she had to hear another one of those quotes. “Your dad was quite a guy and all, but I need you to not finish this mission. Think for yourself. You don’t have to follow orders.” Riley shook his head.
“I’m sorry Buffy.” He turned away and made a quick hand motion. “File out boys.”
Buffy watched them leave the alley, frustrated beyond belief. “This sucks.”
DISCLAIMER: Once upon a time these was a boy named Joss. He loved to torture people with angst. So he made a company called ME, and created a show to drive people nuts. He liked the show so much he decided he wasn’t gonna share any of the $$$ with the rest of us. Damn him!
THANKS: I never expected this little tale to go beyond a single chapter. I just wrote it for kicks. All your encouragement has gotten me this far. I hope to deliver.
HOLY COW: What the heck is going on! Spike was bitter and laid low for a while. Heh, I said ‘laid‘. Buffy couldn’t find him . Spike was beaten rather badly at Willy’s. Buffy went to Willy’s and punched him in the nose. Hee, love the nose punch. If I was a Slayer I’d be punching noses till the cows came home. Willy tried to give her Spike’s hot wings, but she doesn’t keep her trim figure that way, now does she? Anyways, Buffy finds Spike, almost spills the beans about Riley and her, but gets interrupted by those nutty Initiative guys. Oh, the wackiness! Poor Spike, getting all zapped and such. Riley is the one in charge and drags off our most beloved vamp. Buffy’s pissed. As in mad. Not drunk. And so we continue...
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“Tell me again why we are doing this crazy thing?” Xander adjusted the knapsack in his arms and looked around the dorm nervously. “This is insane. This is suicide. We are insane, suicidal people to be doing this!”
Buffy stopped in front of the large mirror on the wall and turned to her friends. “We have to get him out of there. They are going to cut him, do experiments on him.”
“And this matters because...?” Xander asked.
“Xander, they can’t just lock demons up and chip them and then torture them. It’s wrong. It’s like when those pharmaceutical companies spray perfume in little bunnies eyes to see if it’ll make them go blind.” Willow gave a sad look at the thought. Anya’s eyes lit up.
“Do you think that would work? Spraying bunnies with my Chanel #5?” she asked excitedly.
Giles stepped forward, interrupting her before she could keep going. “In the event that we do get in Buffy, it may be impossible to find him. Nevermind all of us getting out again.” He looked at her, concerned. “Will Riley not help us?”
“Um, Riley is one of the guys that took him.” Buffy looked at the group dressed in their own black fatigues. She sighed. “Listen. You don’t have to do this. I don’t want any of you risking your life for, well, for Spike. We all know that they are doing something wrong down there, beyond Spike. Something for um, war, or-or...mass destruction. Weapons and...and...stuff.” She paused. “I don’t know what, but I know it’s bad. And I’m going in, with or without backup.” She turned and kicked the glass on the wall, shattering it, exposing the elevator shaft behind.
“Cool!” Xander peered down. “And, dark!” He put the bag down and rifled though it, pulling out a large coil of rope and some metal fasteners. “I’m in.”
“Willow, I need the security systems down. Give me fifteen minutes in there.” Buffy pulled on the harness, fastening it around her waist. “Can you do it?” Willow looked nervous but nodded.
“If I can’t break in the old fashioned way,“ she pointed to her laptop, “I’ll do the confusion spell I found in the Book of Osiris.”
“Let’s go then,” Buffy said, and climbed over the edge of the elevator shaft. “See you at the bottom! Last one in’s a rotten egg!”
Xander threw the bag over his shoulder and followed her in. He gave the others a smile. “Watch out, this first steps a doozy!” And he was gone, repelling down the wall. Anya looked at the entrance and turned to Giles.
“Am I supposed to make a funny remark when I go down too?”
“Please don’t,” Giles muttered. Anya shrugged and followed the others down, giving Willow and Giles an enthusiastic thumbs up as she descended.
Willow, having wired her way to the control panel on the wall, typed madly on her computer. “There!” she said, pleased. “We have our fifteen minutes.” Packing it up in her bag, she stood up and peeked down the hole. “Um, it’s kinda far. And kinda not safe-looking.” She climbed over the edge and slowly lowered herself in, eyes wide, followed immediately by Giles. It was pitch black and the sounds echoed hollowly as they went down.
“Ignitus,” Willow said softly, making a soft blue glow appear, lighting the way.
“Oh, much better,” Giles said from above her. “Now I can see all the rat droppings I am stepping on.”
“Sorry Giles,” Willow said sheepishly. “Maybe you could pretend they are tiny raisins?” Giles made a snorty sound and she hushed.
The others were waiting for them at the bottom. “You alright?” Buffy asked, helping them get unfastened.
“Oh, just wonderful,” Giles said dryly, “Here we are, sneaking into a highly secret military base to rescue a vampire who has tried to kill us one more than one occasion, armed with only some stakes and a few battleaxes. Everything is quite normal.”
Anya waved the heavy axe in her hands happily. “Yes, look, I get to carry one of them!”
“Systems are down?” Buffy asked. Willow nodded.
“Fourteen minutes and counting.”
“Let’s go then.” Buffy and the Scoobies started walking through the maze of corridors, pausing whenever they heard a noise, doubling back when someone approached them from around a corner. The place was enormous, and it was difficult to move around without coming into the large open spaces and being spotted by the doctors and commandos milling about. Faintly, the sound of shrieking could be heard.
“Which way should we go?” Xander whispered when Buffy paused for a moment.
“I’d say in the direction all the yelling is,” Buffy said, leading them towards it.
The shouting led them to a more enclosed area of the compound, with clear cells filled full of dangerous-looking demons. Most were roaring in anger at the confinement, pacing angrily and beating at the glass doors locking them in. Some looked resigned, sitting dejectedly on the floor. Buffy looked at the low row of cubicles and frowned, wondering how she was ever going to find Spike.
“I see him,” Willow hissed, excited. She pointed to the far end of the line, where Spike could be seen laying on the floor, motionless.
They ran down to the front of his cell. The door seamed to have no handle or lock in it, and it slid securely right into the wall. Buffy gave it an experimental kick. It didn’t even ripple. She looked at the small code box on the right.
“Will, can you...uh, jimmy this door open with your laptop?” she asked. Willow looked skeptical.
“I can try,” she said. “Xander, pop this panel open for me.”
“Ooh, I get to do something manly.” Xander took out a small screwdriver and wedged it in, twisting.
“I can think of many manly things you do,” Anya said helpfully, making Xander look up in fear and the others wince. “Like that time you dug...and you were all sweaty and digging...”
Giles stepped forward, a pained look on his face “Yes, we all remember that. Now, can we just not talk about it? Ever. Again.” Anya gave him a frown.
“Fine,” she said. “But I don’t see why you all don’t think of Xander like I do-” She was cut off by a groan from the cell.
“Spike!” Buffy whispered, putting her hands on the glass. “Can you hear us?” She looked on as Spike rolled over slowly, fixing a bleary-eyed look on her.
“Slayer,” he mumbled, sitting up slightly. He was still weak from the beating and the shocks he’d gotten from Team Riley.
“Willow, open the door,” Buffy said impatiently. Willow frowned, concentrating.
“Hold on...I’ve almost got it-HA!” she said triumphantly as a loud ‘click’ was heard. All the doors to the cells opened with a gentle swooshing noise. “Ooops.”
Demons and vampires burst from all directions at once, snarling and fighting with each other. Most of them were too panicked to do anything but run around madly. The noise was deafening.
“Come on!” Buffy ran in and grabbed Spike, dragging him out of the bare room. “Can you stand?”
“Mmmm...Slayer...hot...” Spike’s hand reached up to her hair and she pulled away, shooting a glance at the rest of the group.
“Hot?” Xander frowned. “He’s got a fever?”
Giles sighed. “He's a vampire Xander. It's impossible for him to be hot.”
Buffy hoisted Spike up over her shoulder and looked at the fray outside the room. The vampire mumbled something softly against her back, still out of it. “We’ve got to get out of here before the lockdown happens. So much for our fifteen minutes of sneakery.”
Willow made a face. “Sorry guys,” she said, waving her hands at the scene around them.
Xander hacked at a demon as they backed out carefully. “No, Will, this is good. See, it’s a diversionary tactic. Very stealthy. Well, not as much stealthy as violent, but a good way to cover our tracks.” He ducked and Buffy staked a vamp, dust flying all over them. A group of army men raced by, armed to the teeth, not even noticing the odd group carrying weapons and an unconscious vampire. Xander pointed. “See?”
They quickly made their way to the elevator, mostly ignored by the commandos running around trying to gather all their prisoners. “Well, that wasn’t so hard,” Anya said, shrugging.
“Halt.” A deep voice ordered. They turned as one to see the four men standing around them, weapons ready. “Drop the weapons and stand down.”
Buffy let Spike go and he slid to the floor bonelessly with a thump. The others just stared at the officers. “I said, stand down!”
“Riley?” Buffy said. “Riley, you have to let us go.” The commando shook his head, removing his mask.
“Denied. Buffy, you shouldn’t have come in here. Civilians can be tried under marshal law. You are violating orders by rescuing an HST.” He looked at Spike crumpled at her feet. “This thing isn’t worth your time.”
Spike stirred slightly. “Bugger...mrrrnngh...” he muttered, trying to focus.
Anya frowned. “Why don’t you just let her go? “ she demanded to Riley. “You aren’t a very good boyfriend.”
Riley coughed, looking embarrassed. Buffy suddenly found the wall fascinating and stared at it, hard. “You are her boyfriend still, right?” Anya said. Riley motioned towards Buffy with his gun. All eyes, including the commandos, swiveled towards her.
“Umm....” Buffy gave them a sheepish look. “We kinda...broke up?”
“Broke up?” Giles said, looking shocked.
“Broke up?” Willow said, mouth open that her best friend hadn’t confided in her.
“Broke up?” Xander said, relieved.
“Guurrrrrrhh...’ Spike mumbled, still rather out of it.
The commandos murmured sympathetically at Riley in a manly fashion.
Anya looked bored. “I knew it.”
“Hello?” Buffy raised her hand, getting everyone's attention again. “Can we focus here? I am not giving you this one back, and I suggest that you...look out!” She shoved the nearest commando down, sending him sprawling, and punched the demon that had leapt out from behind. There was a scramble and the officers panicked a bit as a group of rather angry looking vampires descended on them.
“Riley! Move!” Buffy swung at the vampire holding onto his neck hungrily and tore him away. Riley stumbled and went down hard, pulling Buffy with him. “You need to get your men out of here. Are you hearing me? You need to-uh-what‘s that army word....? Oh, yeah, abort. Abort this mission!”
Riley grabbed his taser and rolled away from her, zapping a demon before it could get to the Scoobies, who were frantically putting their harnesses on. Buffy got up and ran to join them. “Buffy, wait!” She stopped and looked back at him standing among all the fighting and screaming. He stepped closer, a sweet look in his eyes.
“I will always lo-” He was felled by a swift punch in the face. Spike stood, looking extremely incensed, if not a good bit wobbly.
“Shock me will ya? That’ll show-AAAAAAAAARRRRRGH!!” He fell, clutching his head in agony.
“What made him all owie?” Willow looked at him writhing on the ground. Buffy shrugged.
“Delayed chip reaction.”
DISCLAIMERS: Joss who? Whedon? Wheaton? Weedon? He what? He made a company called ME? And his show is Buffy the Vampire Slayer? Nice show. Only dorks watch that. Oh, wait, I watch it. And I’m, like, old. Is Joss gonna let me make money off my stealing his characters? No? Goddammit. So he owns all rights? What a prick. What? He’s a god? Ok, I admit I think so too. When I called him a prick, it was very lovingly.
THANK YOU: You have been so nice, and I have been so mean, keeping the smut from you! I will relent, and, in the famous words of Spike, ‘give it me good, Buffy.’
WHAT THE?: Buffy and the gang snuck into the Initiative. Snuck? Sneaked? Snacked? Willow helped out with some handy-dandy computer hacking. Xander helped with his handy-dandy screwdriver. Giles sighed a lot. Anya didn’t help, but she did get Buffy to confess to the breakup. Har, Anya is a gem. Whoopsie! Willow let all the HSTs out. (hostile sub terrestrials) Inside, Spike was kinda groggy, but he still managed to give a good one to Riley. No, you crazy S/R slash readers, by ‘give a good one’ I don’t mean sex. I mean a good old boot to the head. With his fist. And then was served a nasty migraine. Now, a few days later, Spike is healing up nicely at Buffy’s house. Couldn’t take him to the crypt with the army dudes looking for him. Except the Initiative is no more, all closed down and files sealed and all that top secret stuff. Riley caught a one-way ticket back to Iowa. Bye now! And so we continue....
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“What the hell is going on?” Buffy looked at the scene before her, mouth open in fear. It was the worst thing she could imagine. It was worse than the worse thing. It was worstest. “What are you doing?”
Spike gave her an innocent look and raised his glass to her. “Just what it looks like. Having dinner.”
Buffy put down her bag with a thump. Coming home from class to find Spike actually awake was one thing. Finding him awake, mostly healed, and sitting in the dining room with the table set for three was another.
Joyce walked in, carrying a large roast, cooked rare. “Oh Buffy, there you are. I was afraid you’d be late.” She placed the roast before Spike and smiled at her daughter.
“Yes Buffy, we were worried you’d miss the lovely feast your mum was good enough to make,” Spike said, sugar dripping from his lips. Buffy gave him a look and he raised an eyebrow at her. “How was school?”
“What?” Buffy twitched. “Shut up Spike.” Spike sent her a mock-hurt look, which Joyce noticed.
“Buffy. Can I see you in the kitchen for a moment?” she said firmly. Buffy sighed and followed her, ignoring the grin Spike shot her way as she passed by him.
“Why are you being so mean to him?” Joyce asked, dishing out a large amount of mashed potatoes into a bowl. “You’ve fussed over him for three days now and the moment he’s feeling better you attack.”
“That was when he was unconscious,” Buffy muttered. “And he is so full of sh-” She trailed off at Joyce’s look. “Um, shingles. He..uh...he had shingles, so I was afraid he’d give them to you.” She finished lamely.
“Shingles? Only old people get those. And it’s not contagious so I am fine Buffy.” She passed her the mashers. “Here, make yourself useful.”
“I am useful. I don’t see anyone else around here saving the world and rescuing smartass vamps from an army storage facility...” Buffy muttered under her breath, plopping the bowl right in front of Spike. “Here. Eat. And don’t pour your blood over it like some kind of gravy or I’ll puke.”
Spike stood up when Joyce came in, pulling her chair out for her, eyes on Buffy the whole time. “Thank you Spike,” Joyce said, sending a smile to Buffy. One that clearly said, ‘Isn’t he a gentleman?’ Buffy thought she was going to be ill. Spike widened his eyes at her behind Joyce’s back, smirking. “That was very kind of you, but I would hate to see you strain yourself. I mean, you were so badly hurt when Buffy brought you here.” Joyce watched Spike reach across the table and pause, wincing elaborately, holding a hand to his side. “Buffy, please pass Spike the bread.”
“What? The bread?” Buffy glared, but passed away. “Why are you even eating? You drink blood. Drink that.”
“I like many things that other vamps hate,” Spike said, putting just the right amount of innuendo into the words. “I have a real zest for...life.” He picked up his knife and began to cut a piece of roast, feigning great difficulty. Dropping the knife with a loud clatter he smiled apologetically to Joyce. “Hands aren’t quite healed yet. No worries. I’m sure your roast is delicious.” Joyce looked heartbroken by his admission.
“Oh! How awful. Buffy, help him, won’t you?” Buffy looked up, mortified.
“You mean, cut his meat?”
Spike looked a little worried at her choice of words.
“Yes Buffy, honestly, stop acting like such a child and help your guest.” Joyce shook her head.
“He’s not my guest,” Buffy said, but stopped from saying anything further by the challenging look in Spike’s eyes. Stomping over, she leaned in and attacked the beef like it was a nasty demon. “Big faker,” she hissed.
Spike smiled a thank-you to Buffy as she sat back down with a huff and took a sip of his blood, making a slight face, quickly hiding it, but making sure he didn’t hide it fast enough for Joyce to notice. Eyes down meekly he nibbled on a piece of bread. Joyce put her fork on her plate, concerned.
“Is your blood cold, Spike?” she asked. Spike looked up quickly and Buffy could have sworn he managed to blush.
“Blimey Joyce, I love your dinner, it’s fantastic.” He gave her his most charming of smiles, then made a sad face. “It’s just that...well...after the injuries...” He snuck a glance at Buffy, who narrowed her eyes at him, “I just can’t heal properly unless my blood is warmed up to exactly ninety-eight point six degrees.” Spike sighed elaborately and fiddled with the mug’s handle.
“Let me-” Joyce began, but Buffy jumped up.
“No, Mom,” she took the mug away from Spike, smiling so wide it looked like her mouth might crack, “By all means, let me.”
Spike gave her a slight nod. The Queen couldn’t have been more regal. “Why, thank you Buffy.”
“Oh, my pleasure.” She took off into the kitchen. The sound of the microwave was heard, followed by many bangs, and slammings of drawers. Spike listened nervously.
“...feeling Spike?”
Spike looked at Joyce. “What? I’m sorry...what?”
Joyce studied Spike, troubled. “Are you sure you’re feeling better?”
“He’s fine, aren’t you Spike?” Buffy came in and gently placed the mug before him. “There you are. Ninety-eight degrees, plus point-six.” She sat back down, eyes never leaving Spike’s. He swallowed nervously.
“Aren’t you going to drink it Spike?” Buffy asked, looking close to tears. “You need your strength.”
“Yes, drink up Spike,” Joyce said encouragingly.
Spike shot a nasty glance over to Buffy but obligingly brought it to his lips. “Anything for you Joyce,” he said, toasting her and taking a healthy swallow. His eyes bugged.
“Everything alright?” Buffy asked, thinking of the half-bottle of Tabasco she‘d dumped in. “Maybe it’s still too cold.”
Spike wheezed. “It's fine.” He grabbed the milk and poured some into his blood, making Buffy blanch.
“Ew!” she said, looking sick as he chugged it down.
“All better,” he gasped, putting the empty mug on the table. Buffy looked disappointed that he was still alive.
“So Buffy, what are you up to tonight?” Joyce smiled and took a sip of her wine.
Buffy pushed her veggies around her plate. “I think we're Bronzing it tonight.” Seeing Spike perk up at her words she warmed to her topic. “Yeah, the whole gang is going. We’ll probably dance and laugh, make it real night of it.” She turned to Spike, now frowning in his chair. “Too bad you’re so weak right now. You should stay home. Rest. Get your strength back.”
Spike was scowling now. “Sounds like a right awful time. I’ll be here, watching the telly. There’s a special on sharks on PBS.”
“Sharks?” Joyce asked. “You have an interest in them?” Spike sat up.
“Well, they are bloody nasty creatures, with the jaws and the blood and such. The perfect killer. All that deadly, purposeful swimming.” He leaned forward, warming to his subject. “I heard that once they opened one up, a bloody big bugger too, and it had an entire bowling ball in it’s belly! Now that’s something to fear.”
Buffy scoffed. “Well, that’s one thing I’d fear. A shark would never have it’s killer instincts tamed.” She gave Spike an ingenuous look. He scowled at her more.
Their scowling was interrupted by the phone ringing. “Oh, now who could that be, calling at dinnertime.” Joyce got up to answer it, leaving the two of them shooting daggers at each other across the table.
“What're you playing at Spike?” Buffy whispered, eyes narrow.
“Aren’t you glad to see me up and about Slayer?” Spike popped a piece of very rare meat in his mouth and chewed voraciously. “Mmmmm, great dinner. Thanks for the help with the knife.”
“I’ll show you what I can do with a knife.” She seethed, picking hers up and brandishing it menacingly. Footsteps grew closer and she quickly dropped it, picking up her milk and pretending to drink it.
Joyce came in, carrying her purse and looking upset. “Mom, what’s wrong?” Buffy asked, concerned.
“Oh, it’s the gallery. A shipment came in, just now of all things, and they need me there to supervise the unpacking. We can’t have anything become damaged.”
Buffy almost did a spit-take. “You mean, you’re leaving? Now?” She looked over at Spike, who almost oozed delight. “No! You can’t.”
“I’m sorry Buffy. You’ll have to finish dinner by yourself. But at least you’ll have Spike to keep you company.” Joyce pulled out her keys. “I’ll be late.” She said, giving Buffy a kiss on the head. “Bye Spike.”
“Night Joyce.” Spike said smiling like the teacher’s pet he was.
The moment the door slammed he was up and pulling Buffy out of her chair. “Hey!” Buffy squirmed against his strong grip. “I knew there wasn’t anything wrong with your hands!”
Spike leaned her against the table, grinning wickedly. “There’s nothing wrong with anything of mine, pet.” He thrust against her in example, making her gasp. “Shall I prove it to you?” He thrust some more, pleased by the little pants he was getting Buffy to make. “That’s right Slayer, I’m back now.”
“You slept for three days,” Buffy whispered, leaning her head into his neck. He paused, surprised.
“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you cared.” He pulled back from her, his sarcastic expression wavering a touch. Buffy stared at him. And didn’t say a word, just leaned in and kissed him. He froze for a moment, the sweet gesture surprising him. Then he kissed her back hotly, wanting nothing more than to be inside her. Now.
“Spike, yes...” Buffy moaned, thrusting her hands underneath his shirt, desperate to feel his skin, his smooth chest. It wasn’t enough and she impatiently ripped, the black t-shirt tearing like paper under her hands. “Oh god.” She breathed, looking at the skin before her, the hard muscles, his perfect body. She’d never seen him shirtless before. “You are beautiful.” She whispered.
Spike’s eyes stared into hers, burning. “Buffy,” he whispered. She answered him with another kiss, this one full of fire, thrusting her tongue into his mouth. He growled, picking her up and sitting her in the table forcefully. A sweep of his arm and plates went flying, mashed potatoes everywhere. He pushed her onto her back, climbing on top of her, mouth fused to hers.
She reached down, desperately trying to tug off her skirt, but Spike was too impatient for that and pushed it up, ripping her panties off and flinging them wildly. They landed in the bowl of gravy with a plop. Neither one of them noticed. Or cared. A marching band could have traipsed through the dining room and they wouldn’t have stopped.
Buffy fumbled at Spikes waist, trying to unzip him. Giving up, she tore, making Spike chuckle. “So greedy luv,” he panted, pulling his pants off. Taking himself in his hand he rubbed at her entrance slowly, teasingly. “I have what you want.”
Buffy almost died from the incredible feeling of him pressing up against her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled once. One strong pull and he was deep in her. She moaned and took a ragged breath, her hips meeting his in perfect rhythm. He kissed her again, his lips burning, the words he muttered lost against her mouth.
She scratched his back sharply, making him gasp in pleasure.
“So that’s how it is.” Spike smiled evilly. “Kitty has claws.” He pulled back, making her moan in wordless protest as he slid from her. Stepping back, he yanked her up and turned her onto her stomach, then slid into her again, driving into her forcefully, propelling her forward. Buffy’s hands knocked over more plates, milk spilling over the edge of the table with every thrust, silverware rattling.
Buffy curled her hands, fingers tangled in the tablecloth. It shredded beneath her as she bucked against Spike, sweat covering her body. He pulled at her top, tearing it off, skirt bunched around her waist as his hands stroked up and down her bare back over and over again until she was shivering with desire. “Please...please...” she whimpered, gasping for air as he grabbed at her hips, hard enough to leave bruises. “Spike, please.”
Spike flipped her over again, somehow managing to stay inside her. She had no idea how he did it, she only knew that suddenly she was on her back, legs over his shoulders, getting pounded for all she was worth. The feeling was incredible, and she clenched hard, her climax thundering down on her, deafening her with it’s waves. She didn’t even know she screamed as she clutched at him, scratching him so hard this time that trickles of blood ran down his arms. She only knew the blinding pleasure that Spike was giving her.
The smell of blood, and Buffy’s reaction as she peaked was enough for Spike. “You’re mine!” he snarled, leaning against her neck, echoing the sweet gesture that Buffy had done earlier. His teeth grazed her neck, never breaking the surface, never hurting her. He shuddered. “Mine.”
Buffy slowly calmed, sighing softly against Spike’s cheek. He was silent, his fingers trailing little paths up and down her arm as he rested against her chest. Pulling back a bit he smiled into her eyes.
“Thank you,” he whispered. Buffy blushed furiously, making him chuckle. “No, not for that, although I have to say, a thousand thank-yous wouldn’t be enough after that little display. I mean, thank you for coming back for me.” He looked down, his lashes hiding his eyes. Buffy stared at him, thinking how she’d never noticed his lashes before. He looked almost...shy.
“You’re welcome,” she answered softly. Spike sighed and looked back up at her.
“You went into that place against your...” His lips pressed together like he’d just eaten something bad, “Boyfriend.”
Buffy frowned. “Spike, Riley-” He pulled away from her, a harsh expression on her face.
“No! Don’t.” He turned from her, pulling his pants back up. They hung there, zipper broken. “I can’t. Do you think I want this? That I want these stolen moments with you, until your precious Rescue Ranger comes back? That I have to pretend when I see you, like I don’t want to touch you, to taste you?” He paced madly among the broken dishes.
Buffy shook her head. “Um, hello? Riley and I broke up the night you and I..uh...in the Bronze...” Spike froze.
“What?” Spike said, dumbfounded, foot in the bowl of mashed potatoes.
DISCLAIMER: I’m all minding my own business one day and Joss comes up to me and says, ‘Hey, guess what? I’ve got this company called Mutant Enemy.’ ‘What kind of name is that?’ I ask him, puzzled and a little frightened by his hair. He frowns and says, ‘Oh, it’s a better name that Mr. Monkeybottoms, I’ll have you know! And, just for that, you don’t get any of the profits, no matter how many stories you write about BTVS.’ I scoff, ‘Yeah, like I’m gonna write a story about that. What, am I some kind of loser?’
THANKS: I believe this is the last chapter of this little ditty. I appreciate the reviews and comments and advice. Thank you to Bub, she helped me so much in the final chapters! And thank you to everyone who read this. You know, I never really got around to getting Tara into this story, which is funny, cause I adore Tara. So, we’ll just pretend that Tara hasn’t come around yet. No Tara everyone. Next time I’ll Tara it up. Wow, I just said ‘Tara’ a lot. Not as much said it as typed it.
DEEDLE-BONG!: Whoa! Buffy and Spike and Joyce had dinner. Spike, although quite recovered from his ordeals with Riley and Co., pretended to be hurt so Buffy would go crazy from being annoyed with him. Joyce made Buffy cut Spike’s meat...then left, and Spike returned the favor...with his meat...heh heh...I made a little funny there, get it? Meat? ok, not so funny. Man, what a mess Spike and Buffy made in the dining room. Spike stepped in the mashed potatoes when he finally got clued in about Riley. Bye-bye Riley! The Scooby gang is relaxing at the Bronze, having a little wind-down party. And so we pick up from there...
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“What time did Buffy say she was coming?” Xander looked at his ‘Scooby-Doo’ watch and frowned. “I think she’s late. The big hand is on the Scooby Snacks and the little is on Shaggy’s shoulder.”
Willow grinned at him. “And that would mean it’s- ‘I would have been on time if it weren’t for you meddling kids’-o’clock.”
“Heh, good one Will.” Xander grinned back. Anya frowned.
“Is this a reference to that children’s show with the creepy talking dog and the man with the spinal deficiency?” She shuddered. “And don’t even get me started on the red-head’s bad fashion sense.”
“What about Velma?” Xander asked. “She wore a giant sweater.”
Willow made a face. “Hey, I liked Velma. She was smart and cute, even if her glasses were all Buddy Holly.” She smoothed her giant sweater placidly.
“Was it just me, or did Fred-” Xander started, but was cut off by a loud groan from the vampire sitting next to him.
“Oh, for god’s sake,” Spike said, annoyed as all hell. “Would you shut up about that show already?” He took a slug of his beer and sighed. “It all went downhill after Scrappy-Doo anyway.”
Xander shrugged, saddened. “Yeah.”
They were quiet for a moment.
“But Fred really had this gay thing going, with the scarf and the pants...” Xander trailed off at Spike’s look. “Anyone want a drink?”
“Now you’re speaking my language Harris.” Spike shook his empty in his face.
“Um, not you. I’m not buying a drink for you.” Xander pointed at him. “Forget it.”
Spike sat back in the couch. ”Why not? Out of money are you? Hmmph, typical. I should have expected it.” He pursed his lips. “Why don’t you get a job, whelp?”
Xander jumped up and gasped. “I have a job! As you well know, seeing as how I supported your sorry undead self while you squatted at my house.”
“Squatted is the right word all right,” Spike mocked. “I’ve seen trolls with better furniture.”
“I don’t see you with a job,” Xander said, arms crossed. Spike sat up straight, offended.
“A job? Oh, I have a job. EVIL“ His eyes narrowed menacingly. “Being evil is a full-time job I’ll have you know. You don’t see me in some absurdly-patterned getup flouncing door to door delivering deep-fried products to families too lazy to get up and get them themselves.” He relaxed again and crossed one leg on the other, looking up at Xander insolently, pleased with himself.
“But you’re not evil anymore,” Anya pointed out, sipping at her frilly drink. Her straw slurped, and one of the five umbrellas decorating it fell out. “Xander, I'm empty. Get me another drink.” Xander tilted his head, waiting expectantly, and she studied him, thinking. “OH! Right.” She gave him a charming smile. “Please Xander.”
Spike snorted. “Please Xander. Oh, it makes me want to go sick all over your shoes, making an ex-demon learn her manners.” He turned to Anya, who looked surprised. “And, for the record, I-am-bleeding-so still evil!” He went into game face and snarled aggressively. No one even flinched. “Oh, bugger this.” He got up and stalked off, face smoothing itself out as he went.
“I thought you were scary!” Willow called after him.
Anya scowled at Xander. “I think I'm just fine the way I am,” she said, huffily. “If you don’t like me then...well...you can play ‘Horny Gynecologist’ by yourself!” She stormed away, disappearing into the crowd. Xander watched, mouth open.
“I don’t even want to go there.” Willow stood up, mortified. “I mean, a person can only hear so much, and then the ears, well, they start to un-hear, and that’s never a good sign.” She left the table.
Xander groaned and made his way to the bar. The bartender nodded to him. “What’ll it be?”
“One Bellini.” Xander glanced over beside him and saw Spike watching, looking broody. “And a draft for the pale has-been over there.” Spike’s eyebrows raised slowly and he titled his head.
“Chalk one up for the delivery boy,” he said, taking a drink as soon as the glass was placed before him. “Ugh, this is like water.” He eyed the fruity drink in Xander’s hand. “And what, may I ask, is that supposed to be?”
“It’s champagne, peach schnapps, and rum blended with ice like a margarita, with a touch of sangria on top.” He took a healthy sip and clutched his head in pain. “Owww....” Seeing Spike’s expression he sighed. “Brain freeze. Drank too fast.”
Spike made a face. “If it weren’t for the twenty-four hour shag-a-thon going on with demon-girl I’d swear you were light in the loafers Harris.”
“And if it weren’t for Buffy I’d have staked you long ago,” Xander replied, but it lacked the certain venom he’d always said it with before. Spike’s breath hissed through his teeth.
“She’s here,” he said. Xander craned his head around, looking through the people.
“I don’t see her. Where is she?”
“She’s near the entrance.” Spike stood up, nervously smoothing his duster, looking for all the world like he was grooming himself before a big date. “How do I look?”
“What?” Xander said, completely confused. “Look?”
Spike paused. “Er, yeah, do I look evil? Still striking terror into the hearts of the innocent?” He stuck a pose, looking hopeful.
“Oh. Yeah, you look totally evil. I’m petrified,” Xander said, trying to sound convincing. Spike glared at him.
“You don’t have to pretend.” He straightened his shoulders, seeing Buffy approaching. “I don’t have to be mollycoddled like some sort of infant.”
“Buffy!” Xander waved. “Thank god you’re here, I’ve been reduced to hanging around with Spike.”
Buffy looked at them, Xander and his blended girly drink, and Spike, nursing a half-glass of beer, his eyes already betraying them. If he kept looking at her like that the secret two of them wasn’t going to be secret much longer.
“Where’s Willow and Anya?”
Xander shuffled his feet and looked down. Spike smiled.
Buffy sighed. “I’ll go find them.”
“I’ll go with you.” Spike was at her side in an instant.
Xander watched them walk away. “I’ll stay here,” he said to no one in particular.
Buffy started to walk towards the tables, but was sidetracked by Spike grabbing her elbow and pulling her into a dark corner. She put her hands up to his chest, ready to push him off, but instead found herself not so much as shoving as she was caressing. Spike leaned in closer and put his lips to her ear.
“I missed you luv,” he whispered. His tongue darted at her earlobe and she shivered.
“Spike, cut it out. We could be seen.” Buffy took a deep breath and slid out under his arms. “Xander would dust you faster than you could say 'sarcophagus’.” She paused. “Well, I guess you can’t really say ‘sarcophagus’ all that fast...”
“Bugger him. I’m not afraid of the whelp. Besides, he’s too busy nursing his over-grown Slurpee and mooning over the demon-girl to notice us.” Spike grinned and took her hand, pulling her close again. “Care to visit our little ‘special’ cubicle again?”
Buffy smiled at him, despite herself. “No! Willow and Anya are both here...I mean...NO! You pig!”
She went to smack him, but instead found herself kissing him lazily. He drew her flush against his body and her arms went around his back of their own accord, stroking slowly. “Spike?”
“What is it, pet?” he murmured against her mouth, eyes closed.
“I want you-”
Spike groaned. “God, I want you too.” He started to drag her off to the washrooms again, but she dug in her heels, making him stop. He looked over his shoulder at her, puzzled. “You’d prefer the balcony?”
“Oh yeah, I’d-” Buffy shook her head. “Wait. That’s not what I was talking about. I didn’t finish what I was saying there. What I meant to say was, I want you to join the Scoobies. Fight the good fight. No more bad stuff, you know?” She shrugged, “It’s not like you can actually hurt people anyways, so-”
“Bloody hell!” Spike let go of her hand, stepping back from her in shock. “How many times do I have to say it? I’m EVIL! BAD! I kill and I destroy, and I take the utmost pleasure in it. I’m the Big Bad, and I always will be!!” He marched back and forth in front of her madly. “I’m a killer!”
“How many people have you killed in the last forever?” Buffy pointed out calmly. Spike spun around and looked at her.
“What? The chip? You think I can’t be bad because of this bloody chip? Oh, I can do bad! I can do lots of...bad!” He stood in front of her, arms cross defiantly. “I could start fires.” Buffy didn’t look impressed. “I could! If I wanted to...” He finished off lamely.
“Look, do you want in or not?” Buffy asked, annoyed. Spike sighed, shoulders slumping.
“Do I have to be nice to Harris?” he muttered.
“What?”
“Nothing. Listen, I can’t just make a decision like this at the bleedin’ drop of a hat. I can’t change what I am.” He did his best to look dangerous and bent forward, whispering, “I’m baaaaad.”
Buffy didn’t even blink.
“Arrgh!” He vamped out, lunging at her. She rolled her eyes.
“Oh, bloody...fine.” He turned away from her, completely pissed off. “I’m in your stupid club...but I refuse to be nice to any of the others.”
Buffy smiled.