Title: Place Your Bets
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS
characters belong to me.
Feedback: I need it. It's like air and water to me.
Summary: Alternate season 6. Buffy and Spike are trying to win a bet they've made with each other.

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(This started out as a 'drabble', then, like Topsy, it "just growed".
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Part one: Prefatory Matters



"You leaving already?"

"Sorry. Got stuff to do."

"Fine. I understand. Had your itch scratched and now you can go on about your business until you need it again."

"Keep talking like THAT and you won't get yours scratched for a REAL long time."

"Right, Slayer. Like you could do without your thrice weekly service call."

"Look who's talking."

"Hey, I got along fine without you, luv. I'm just doing you a favor here."

"Spike...you are so full of shit. You couldn't go without sex if someone offered you all the blood from a Red Cross health fair. I could go way longer than you."

"Want to bet?"




And THAT was how the whole thing started.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever learn to keep my big mouth shut when I'm ahead.

And I WAS ahead, too. I could have done the classy thing and sailed out of the crypt on a cloud of icy silence after that "I'm doing you a favor" crack.

What I SHOULD have said was, "Save your favors for someone who needs them!" Or, "I think you have our roles reversed."

But, no. Instead...I issue him a challenge. I should have known he'd pounce on it like a starving man at an all-you-can-eat restaurant.

I never think before I speak. It's a real problem.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Well, I could have backed out of it. Just laughed it off and headed for the door, knowing he can't follow me.

But, he must have seen it coming, because HE suddenly backed down, making it sound as though he knew I'd never win and was willing to cut me a break due to me allowing my mouth to once again overload my brain.

That damn vampire knows me too well. If I wasn't so crazy about him, I'd stake his arrogant ass. Tack him up like a bug on a pin, then not bother to vacuum up the residue.

Yeah, yeah...I'm admitting it. I'm mad about the boy. Deal with it, and move on.

It's my guilty little secret. Except that I only feel guilty for keeping the secret, not for it's content. I got tired of feeling guilty for THAT long ago.

Grown woman, here. Slayer. Saved the world more than once. Gonna be with who I want. Anyone who doesn't like it can just pack up their toys and go play in someone else's yard.

Even Spike doesn't really know my secret...although I suspect he suspects. I'm not terribly good at hiding things from him and he's caught me more than once with a dopey grin on my face as I thought about him in a certain way.

This is why I never play poker. I can't bluff worth a damn.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first thing we did was decide on the (you should pardon the expression) stakes of the bet.

It took longer than I'd thought it would. You wouldn't BELIEVE what he wanted from me should he end up the winner!

Not that he's going to. I have faith in my self control. I mean, sure...sex with Spike is (to put it mildly) out of this world...but I've garnered a fair amount of savoire faire over the years, (I have! Really!) and I'm pretty confident in my ability to resist.

And besides...I can always take care of certain matters myself...should it become necessary. Actually, I HAD to learn how to do that when I was involved with Riley.

Got to be quite good at it, too...the selfish bastard.





TBC.....

Next: Part two...The Stakes of the Game

Part two: The Stakes of the Game



The doorbell rang just as I was finishing up my "Buffy Beauty Regime". Which is nothing more
than a fancy way of saying that I'd showered off the graveyard muck I'd collected from a run in with a couple of new born vamps on my way home.

One of the little shits had actually managed to land a punch that split my lip. I'll have to remember to ask Giles how come these losers pop up out of the ground with such handy-dandy fighting skills. I mean, I can understand it if they'd been around for a while, but these clowns were still brushing off the dirt and picking mum petals out of their hair.

To make a long story short, the sight and smell of my blood distracted them and I put the finishing touches to them right then and there, getting it over with quickly.

I didn't have time to play tonight. Not when my vampire lover was coming to call, and me with a bet to be won.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


I gave my hair a quick brushing, leaving it to spread out around my shoulders. Spike likes my hair down.

He's actually kind of obsessed with it. Whenever we're alone, he makes a point of pulling out any clips, barrettes, or elastics that I may have used, and refuses to give them back until he's ready to leave.

Personally, I think it's kind of sexy that he feels that way. I like the way he plays with it and touches it, and when he buries his face in it and inhales the scent of my shampoo...well, to be honest, it makes me weak in the knees.

I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror at the foot of the stairs, and was fairly pleased with the view.

After thinking it over, I had decided to dress as provocatively as I could. When I was in the shower, all I could think about was how Spike's hands felt on my skin and, to say the least, it made me incredibly horny. Then I remembered that I wouldn't be getting any of that good action tonight, and I went from horny to depressed in 2.0 seconds.

So I figured I'd better go into this with guns blazing, because to tell the truth, I'm not at all sure how long I can really hold out.

Sure, I talk a good game and all, but over the past few months, I've been treated to a fulfilling and regular sex life. For the first time EVER! It's going to be harder than hell (yes, I know about
Freudian Slips) having to do without. Vibrators are great in an emergency, but when you're hungry it's hard to settle for a hamburger after you've been dining on Fillet Mignon.

So I wriggled into my tightest jeans and a nearly transparent light green top, skipping the bra that I usually wear beneath it.

My make up was light, but my summer tan was still lingering a bit so I just dusted on a bit of blush and a trace of mascara, and left it at that.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I answered the door with the nicest smile I had available, which only got bigger when I saw him
standing there.

He looked so damn good. No matter what anyone says about Spike, there's one thing you can't deny or take away from him....he's fucking gorgeous.

Every part of him. His face, which looks like it's been chiseled out of marble; his body, lean and strong, with just the right amount of muscle and not an ounce of fat; even his hair, so surprisingly silky when I run my busy little fingers through it.

He's dressed in black...big surprise. The jeans are tight, and the t-shirt looks as though it may have shrunk a bit during the laundering process. It stretches across his chest in the most appealing way.

Oh, and he's got on that dark blue shirt he was wearing the night I finally broke down and admitted that I wanted him as much as he wanted me.

God, I love that shirt on him. Not just because of the pleasant memories it calls up, but because the color darkens the already lovely blue of his eyes.

He smiled at me, and I heard the little devil that popped up on my shoulder lean over and whisper in my ear. "You're going to deprive yourself of THAT? What, are you...nuts?"

I must be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What happened to your face?" Spike closed the door and cupped my chin in his hand.

I had to force myself not to jump into his arms and plant a long, hard kiss on him. Believe me, it
wasn't easy.

His eyes zeroed in on the small cut, and I was happy to see that they glazed over just a little when he saw the spot of dried blood.

Spike has a major yen for my most vital fluid.

I'll admit, I've been a bad little slayer at times by giving him a taste here and there. I haven't let him bite me...although I suspect THAT day isn't too far off. A vampire's bite is a very erotic experience, and if it wasn't for their tendency to drain people dry, I'd highly recommend it.

But even though there's been no biting, I've let him taste me.

One night, we were out on patrol...alone...and the usual mayhem ensued. The vampire I was fighting had sharp nails and he left two long cuts on my upper arm before I dusted him.

When Spike was done playing, he finished his opponent off and came back to me. A good fight always gets his motor humming, and between that and the sight of the O positive trickling down my arm...well, he was primed.

That was a night to remember. He just went wild on me, shoving me up against the cold marble wall of some poor schlub's mausoleum and practically tearing my underpants off.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and he plunged into me all the way. Even though he has an impressive cut of beef between his legs, he's always considerate and careful not to hurt me.

When it's fully erect, Spike's cock is ten inches long. Talk about dying and going to heaven! Long and big around as well, and does he know how to use it? Drives me up the freaking wall and back down again.

So I was there, up against that icy marble, and he had his hands under my ass to hold me up as he pounded into me over and over again. He always makes me come first before he lets himself go, and after he went off inside me, he began licking the blood off my cuts.

And I thought it had been good BEFORE!

In no time at all, he was big and hard and ready...again. He fucked me four times in fifteen minutes!

Like I said....a night to remember.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


From the way he was staring at my lip, I couldn't help but feel that this contest was in the bag. No way he'd be able to go without.

"Oh, I had my nightly spot of violence on the way home," I explained. Turning to lead him into the living room, I swung my hips a little more than I normally do.

I don't know what I was hoping for. Maybe that he would throw me over his shoulder and carry me upstairs, admitting that I had won the bet without firing a single shot; or maybe that he would slip his arms around me and pull me down on the sofa, then kiss my 'ouchie' all better.

Whatever it was, I didn't get it. His hands stayed shoved in the front pockets of his jeans.

"So, have a seat." I pointed at the armchair across from the sofa.

He did as I asked, leaning back and folding his arms across his chest. "You ready to talk terms?"

"I'm ready if you are." I think....

He gave me one of those little half smiles of his. "Right, then. Here's the wager. I say that I can go longer without sex than you can..."

"Fat chance," I interrupted, snickering.

"Shut up and let me finish. You seem to be under the misguided notion that you can outlast me. I'm gonna prove you wrong."

I tingled all over when his eyes were once again drawn to my puffy lower lip, and I ran my tongue over it.

"Loser is whoever begs first," he said distractedly.

"Deal!" I held out my hand to shake on it. "So...WHEN I win this bet...what do I get?"

"Hmm?" He shook his head and took my hand. Didn't shake it, just held it, rubbing his thumb caressingly over the back. "Oh. What do you want?"

What do I want? What a loaded question!

I can't answer it honestly, or the game will be over before it gets rolling. Mulling it over briefly, all I can come up with is the hackneyed cliche of....

"Breakfast in bed. For a whole week."

Spike rolled his eyes. "Are you serious? You honestly want me to come over here before the bloody sun comes up...and feed you?"

It's sounding better and better.

"You heard me, blondie. I want your undead ass over here every morning for seven straight days. You cook...you serve it to me in bed...and you clean up."

After staring at me for a minute, he smiled suggestively. "Well, there's nothing I like better
than servicing you in bed...."

Settle down, heart! Keep breathing, lungs!

"...so, all right."

Maybe I can get him to serve it to me naked. Oh, I have GOT to win this bet!

"Not that you have a snowball's chance in hell, but what do you want if you win?"

I had to ask!



TBC....

Next...Part three: The First Card Dealt

Part three: The First Card Dealt




Unfortunately, no matter what delightful little games two people may decide to play with each other, real life occasionally drops in to visit.

Spike and I had no sooner shook hands and sealed our bet, then the front door flew open with a bang and my one teenager wrecking crew came pelting in as though the hounds of hell were hot on her tail.

This being Sunnydale, that wasn't entirely impossible.

But, as it turned out, it was just Dawn being Dawn.

The minute she saw Spike, she planted herself down on the sofa and refused to budge. Baby sister is still lugging a serious torch around for him, no matter how much she denies it.

And, now that she's getting older, she's figuring out that she's pretty damn cute when she wants to be. Not that Spike has any interest in her that way. Dawn is as much a little sister to him as she is to me.

She knows he's a captive audience, though, and she totally monopolizes him when he visits. She begs for help with her homework, asks him to watch movies with her, coaxes him into telling her stories that our mother would be horrified to hear, and spoils him rotten by indulging him in his second biggest weakness...chocolate.

Cookies, candy, cocoa...all of it at once sometimes. It's enough to put an innocent bystander into a diabetic coma. I swear, sometimes she gets him so hopped up on sugar that I actually think I can hear his heart start up.

By the time I bullied the little rat into her pajamas and sent her to bed, Spike couldn't even sit still anymore.

As I waved goodbye, I couldn't help feeling a little sorry for any vampires that crossed his path tonight. His energy level would keep him beating on them for hours.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Real life continued to fuck me over the next day.

For some bizarre reason, I felt the need to do some house cleaning. That happens every once in a while. I'll just be sitting around like a lump, and an urge to start scrubbing floors will hit me.

Not very often...thank God.

So, I cleaned the kitchen, dusted the living room, and watered all my dying plants. Then, I hauled out the vacuum cleaner, a heavy beast that's been around since the dawn of time. I don't know where my mother got that monster, but it's a bear to push around.

I was halfway through the living room when I heard it.

Clackity-clank-thunk-shizzz-urrrrr-wheeeeze....


And the beast died at my feet.

I scooped the wretched machine up and laid it out on the kitchen table. Something inside of me told me I should wait until Xander could take a look at it for me, but then my "I'm perfectly capable of handling this myself" grown up alter ego accidentally took over.

I lugged the tool kit up from the basement and began to unscrew, unfasten, unbolt, and just generally fuck up mother's beloved Hoover.

It didn't take long for me to realize that I didn't know what the hell I was doing, and when I finally admitted it, I threw my screwdriver down on the floor and growled, rather impressively.

"I just love hearing your dulcet tones when I walk into a room, darling." Spike stepped into the kitchen, avoiding a booby trap of dropped screws and bolts.

"Do I need this?" I whined.

"Need what? Me? Well, I like to think that you...."

"This!" I yelped, pointing at the dead machinery cluttering up the kitchen table.

"Do you need a vacuum cleaner?" He pulled out a chair and sat down, tilting it back on two legs. "Yeah, you're kind of a slob so you probably do."

I nearly slugged him. "It's broken. It's nothing but...parts!"

"How did it become parts?" he asked.

"I took it apart. To fix it."

"Uh-huh. And when did you learn the fine art of vacuum cleaner repair?"

Pushing my hair out of my eyes, I glared at him.

"Obviously, I didn't, or it wouldn't be in eighty-six pieces."

He leaned forward and picked up something that was totally unrecognizable, and as I watched him turn it over in his hands, I suddenly remembered the bet.

And that we were all alone in the house.

Switching gears, I smoothed my hair down and licked my lips. "What's that?"

He looked at me and grinned. "What are you asking ME for?"

Fuck! He is so damn cute when he smiles like that!

"You're a man, aren't you?" I asked, trying to sound girlyish.

His blue eyes just danced with amusement. "Oh, I am, am I? Funny, you saying it right at this particular moment. And, by the way, what does that have to do with anything?"

Lowering my fanny into the chair next to him, I shrugged and smiled. "Men are supposed to fix things, aren't they? Like cars...and toasters...and vacuum cleaners."

He glanced at me, kind of warily. "What's wrong with it?"

"I don't know. It was working all right a little while ago, but now..no matter how much I play around with it, I can't make it suck."

His chair came down with a bang. Woo-hoo! Score one for me! This was going to be as easy as pie.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Okay, it's not gonna be as easy as actual pie.

He didn't respond to my play on words, unless you count him shoving the mess away from him and telling me it was time to go and play in the local graveyards a response.

I decided to worry about the mess tomorrow. I had way better things to do tonight.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My jeans were so tight they were almost cutting off my circulation. But I don't care, cause they look so great on me. Faded and soft, they hugged every single curve of my legs and ass, making me look wildly sexy and totally....

"You look like you're about to split the seat of those pants, Slayer."

Whistle, crash, boom! Come on back down to earth, Buffy.

"Thanks a lot," I snipped at him. "But you couldn't be more wrong." Seeing an opportunity, I took it. "See!" I said. Bending at the waist and touching my toes, I said a silent prayer that the denim wouldn't betray me as I presented him with a nice long look at my ass.

Which I happen to know he finds very attractive.

I bounced back up and gave him a cheeky grin as I covertly studied his response.

Eyes a little glassy? Check! Lips slightly parted? Check! Breathing....well, skip that one.

Poor baby. He turned away, but I'm pretty sure I saw him reach down and make "an adjustment".

Feeling that everything was going my way, I decided to press my advantage.

"I'm hungry," I informed him. "Let's walk through the orchard."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The orchard isn't really an actual orchard. It's more like the garden behind Mrs. Galbraith's house.

She lives on the far side of Restfield, in a big old stone house that was built sometime around the turn of the century. WHICH century, I do not know.

Mrs. Galbraith is 84 years old, and she still grows and cans her own fruits and vegetables. She's an absolute sweetie pie, with no children of her own, and all the kids in town just adore her because she's so generous with the goodies she makes.

The funniest thing is, what with her living next door to a cemetery, she knows all about our little 'vampire infestation' in Sunnydale. The things she's seen, as she puts it, would curl a dead man's toes.

I put in a little extra effort at keeping her end of Restfield as much of a vamp-free zone as I can. In return, she allows me to filch anything I want from her garden.

I avoid the carrots, turnips, and snap beans, but help myself to the corn, tomatoes, and summer squash.

The fruit trees are where I really score big. She grows lemons, oranges, apples, plums, peaches, cherries, and pears. On the ground, we have strawberries, blackberries, and watermelon.

Between all that, and the beautiful flower gardens that surround her house, it's the freaking garden of eden.

Just the right spot for a little temptation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"There's a good one. Right there."

"Slayer...there's nothing wrong with these."

Well, I know there's nothing wrong with them. They just don't suit my purpose.

"I want THAT one," I said eagerly, pointing to a particularly plump and juicy looking peach. "Boost me up."

My hero starts to bend over to grab the bottom of my boot. No, no, no....that won't do at all.

"My shoes are muddy," I told him, sounding as innocent as I could manage. "Just lift me up like this."

I turned my back to him and placed his hands on my waist. "Go ahead."

Those strong hands and arms lift me into the air as though I weigh nothing more than a child. I grabbed the peach I wanted, then loosened myself in his grasp and slithered down his body like a slippery little snake.

AH-HA!

I felt...'it'. Making it's presence known by rubbing against my rear end. And I definitely heard a little gaspy sort of sound come out of him.

I'm gonna win! I'm gonna win!

I'd BETTER win.

Because if HE wins....oh, boy....I don't even want to think about it.




TBC...

Part four: The Second Card Played



Spike let go of me like I'd been dipped in garlic sauce.

He actually PUSHED me away from him. I stumbled and nearly landed on my ass.

"What's the matter?" I asked, turning the biggest, most innocent eyes I could on him.

"Nothing," he muttered, gathering his coat around his legs. Like I didn't know what was going on between them!

Still...I have to make it look good.

"You want some fruit?" My voice was sickeningly chirpy as I held out the peach to him. He gave me a wary look, definitely trying to figure out what I was up to.

God, it's so obvious.

This bet we have going is just one more example of our competitiveness. We're always trying to outdo each other. When we go out patrolling, we keep track of how many vamps each of us slays. Kind of like a score card. Whoever loses buys the ice cream, and so far, we've been pretty even.

This "Anything YOU can do, I can do better" attitude goes back a long way with us, probably back to the beginning, but it really got rolling good on the first night we slept together.

Well...we didn't SLEEP. Not much, anyway.

No, we really spent most of the night trying to fuck each other into unconsciousness. By the time morning came, we were both bruised, battered, and exhausted.

It was the best night of sex I've ever had! Bar none!

I think we did everything it's possible for two people to do that night. Him on top, me on top, him behind me, up against the wall...he actually stood up and flipped me upside down at one point! We performed mutual oral on each other, but we had to stop because all the blood was rushing to my head and I couldn't concentrate.

That was the only time I gave ground. With everything else we did, I stayed right with him.

Hey, I'm the slayer! It's a matter of pride.

That's why I'm gonna work double hard on this bet. Because it's not enough for me to win.

I have to make him lose.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


We walked home the long way, sharing the peach I'd plucked from Mrs. Galbraith's tree.

It was sweet and juicy, and I made the most of the opportunity by eating it as noisily as I could. I threw in a few added tricks, like licking the juice off my fingers, but he had all his defense mechanisms in place, and managed to ignore me.

Apparently, he's figured out what I'm up to.

Guess I'll have to be more subtle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"I've been thinking about getting a job."

He looked at me, definitely surprised. "Really?"

No, not really. The council pays me a nice fat salary these days, and they throw in medical and dental coverage for me and Dawn.

"Uh-huh. Problem is...I can't really DO anything marketable." I stuck out my lower lip and pouted, something that usually turns him on. "I'm useless."

He gave me a surprised look and shook his head. "That's not true. You're the slayer. You protect the innocent from things like me."

Well, I need a better line than that!

"Really?" I asked, trying to look all uncertain and in need of a good pep talk.

"Absolutely!" he replied. "You provide a very important and valuable service in this town."

Much better!

"Maybe," I sighed. "But I can't expect people to pay me to service them."

Naughty talk and sexy innuendo. Two things Spike does very well. I'm learning from the best.

He jumped about two feet, and muttered something to himself that I couldn't quite hear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


By now, we were on Sunnydale's main street. It's a long stretch of road named, big surprise, Main Street. The middle section is full of nice shops and restaurants. But the two outer edges consist mainly of lower class bars, run down pool halls, cheap no-tell motels, and a few sleazy strip joints. Also, an adult movie theater, and a couple of tattoo parlors.

You can guess where most of the action is.

I stopped in front of a charming little establishment known as, I kid you not, 'Club 4-Play'. There's originality for you!

Beneath the neon signs flashing "GIRLS...GIRLS...GIRLS!!" are posters advertising what's going on inside.

And, if you STILL couldn't figure it out, there's a guy out in front explaining it.

"Come on in, boys. I can promise you the hottest show outside of the Vegas strip. You want girls? Have we got girls! Beautiful girls, with beautiful bodies! If you like it, we've got it in here, that's a plain fact. Blondes, redheads, and brunettes. They're gorgeous, they're hot, and they
want to dance for you. You like lap dances? Our girls are experts. Big tits? Big asses? We've got 'em in here. Just come on in and take a look."

As we're walking by, the barker tries to shove a flyer into Spike's hand. He ignored it....so I took it for him!

"Hmm," I said, examining the flyer, looking very serious. "I wonder if they're hiring."

He stared at me as though I'd completely lost every single one of my marbles AND the bag they came in.

"What? I can dance."

Unfortunately, flyer-boy overheard me and came over to stick his two cents worth in. "Hey, babe. We're always looking for new talent." He gestured over his shoulder towards the entrance. "It's amateur night. Why don't you come on in and show us what you can do?"

The little pervert was LEERING at me!

Spike grabbed my arm. "Trust me. You really DON'T want to know what she can do."

"Look, friend," flyer-boy said, unknowingly taking his life in his hands by stepping a little closer to me. "If the lady wants to dance..."

"Number one," Spike snapped, turning on him. "I'm not your friend. Number two...the lady only dances for me. And number three," he tacked on, placing his hand on the guy's chest and shoving him back three feet, "fuck off!"

I love it when he's possessive!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Spike dragged me home...literally!

He kept a firm grip on my hand and hauled me away from Club 4 Play at double time march. He looked all frowny and glowering, and...I've gotta admit...sexier than all get out!

I'm starting to regret ever accepting this bet. Right now, there's nothing on earth I want more than for him to take me upstairs and make my bedsprings squeak.

"What are you so pissed off about?" I ask him, trying to catch my breath as he yanks me along. "I told you I was thinking about getting a job."

He stopped and I ran right into him. Turning on me, his eyes are blazing and snapping with blue flame. Sexy! Oh, God...I want him now!

"A job? In there?" he demanded. "Taking your clothes off for every horny bastard in Sunnydale? What the hell is the matter with you?"

Good question...

He pushed me up against the tree in my front yard. The one he used to stand under while staring up at my bedroom window on the nights Riley was visiting. Geez...if I'd known THEN what I know NOW, I'd have thrown Riley out the window head first and invited Spike in.

Moving a little closer, I can feel his body pressing against me. "Besides," he added, "that's strictly a night-time job...and you have plenty to do at night already."

He put a little emphasis on "do" and I know what he's up to. The same thing I am, dammit!

Well, he's not gonna get away with it.

"That's true." I gave him my sexiest smile. "With the slaying and all, I'd never get any...sleep." My hips rub lightly against his. "Is it 'hard'...being 'up' all night?"

His voice dropped down into that deep tone that sends shivers up and down my spine. "It's VERY hard."

Okay, he definitely knows what I'm doing and is trying to beat me at my own game...standing there in the moonlight...looking like chocolate dipped sin.

God, I want to just give in. I want to tell him that I don't care about the stupid bet, that I'll do anything he wants if he'll just take me into the house and make love to me until I can't walk straight.

He leaned down a bit closer. I can almost feel his lips on mine, and I want it so badly that I could scream. No one kisses like he does. He can practically give me a bone rattling orgasm just by sliding his tongue in and out of my mouth.

"G'night, luv," he said, pinching my cheek, leaving me standing there with damp panties and an empty ache between my legs the size of the Grand Canyon.

I hope the batteries in my vibrator are still good.




TBC....

Part Five: Bluffing


Whoever said that "good things come to those who wait" didn't know what the hell they were
talking about. Either that, or they weren't waiting to have sex with Spike.

I've been waiting for three days now, and to be honest, I'm sick and tired of it. To win this bet
and get back to where we once belonged, I'm finding myself in need of an edge.

Last night...I got one. And it's a doozy!

I woke up this morning and discovered that my period had started during the night.

My cycle is usually pretty regular, but for some reason, I don't know why, it came early this time. I can only assume that someone up there likes me, because opportunity is not only knocking on my door, it's also leaning on the bell and sticking it's fingers through the mail slot.

My vampy lover boy will crumble like a house of cards the minute he gets close enough to sniff me.

Another advantage of having sexual liaisons with a vampire is that he's not squeamish when a girl is on the rag. I found that out when I had my first period after we became lovers.

Of course, there ARE lots of other advantages, too. Things like stamina, an almost nonexistent recovery time, and the generous size of their equipment...although I'm not sure if that's a 'vamp' thing, per se, or a 'Spike' thing.

In other words, he's not called 'the BIG bad' for nothing.

Apparently, a slayer's menstrual blood is like catnip for a vamp. Drives them bug-fucking nuts. I remember a scooby meeting we had not long after our Glory days were over. There was something important going down, but Spike wasn't paying a bit of attention to what was being discussed.

He kept staring at me, then he'd look away real quick whenever I caught him. I didn't know what the hell was bugging him. He drove everyone crazy drumming his fingers on the table, fiddling with a stack of reference books, and drawing pictures on some thousand year old scroll with Willow's Hi-liter marking pens.

So, then he jumps to his feet and starts wandering around the Magic shop, humming to himself, snapping his fingers, and just generally irritating everyone.

Xander told him to settle down, but Spike just gave him the finger. We all tried not to pay attention to his antics after that, but then he started rearranging the merchandise, picking things up and putting them down someplace else. Giles hates that sort of thing, being the type of person who has the contents of his medicine cabinet arranged in alphabetical order.

Since I wanted to avoid a fight, I got up and headed across the room to lay a little 'slayer' discipline on my biggest problem child. He saw me coming and backed away fast, knocking over a display table and breaking a bunch of glass bottles that contained ingredients for different spells; bottles with labels on them that read 'Skunk Root Elixir' and 'Canine Saliva' and the ever popular 'Badger Urine'. It took us three days to air the place out and make it fit for customers.

Giles was furious and Anya started to cry. It turned out that those stinky spell ingredients were some of the best selling items in the store, not to mention the priciest.

I decided to get Spike out of staking range, and marched him out of the store by the scruff of his neck. I nagged him all the way back to his place, trying to get him to tell me what the hell was the matter with him, but it wasn't until I wrestled him to the ground and sat on him that he finally fessed up.

Imagine my surprise when he informed me that the whole sorry mess was MY fault! That if I hadn't been "sashaying around, flaunting my human female bodily functions right under his nose", it never would have happened. I didn't know a person could sashay while sitting in a chair.

That was when I first found out about the effects a slayer's menstrual blood can have on a vampire.

I never dreamed that the knowledge would come in so handy!


******************************

After I packed Dawn off to spend the night with Willow and Tara, I took a quick shower and put on a halter top and a pair of my shortest shorts. I fixed my hair and make up, then went downstairs and waited for the doorbell to ring.

When Spike walked in, he took one look at me and knew we weren't going anywhere.

"You feel all right, love?" he asked, looking at me all concerned. God, can he be sweet when he wants to be!

"Yeah, I'm okay," I answered, sounding as listless as I could. "Just don't feel like going out tonight is all."

He took off his coat and tossed it over the back of a chair. My tongue nearly hit the floor, he looked so damn good in his black button down shirt and tightest pair of jeans.

"Right, then," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets and tilting his head to one side a bit, and oh, God...I love it when he does that!

"Umm...I rented a movie," I said, controlling my urge to tackle him and tear his clothes off. "And I made some popcorn."

This is a sure fire form of distraction. Spike loves movies. He drags me to see every new one that hits the local cineplex. No matter how crappy it is, he makes me sit through it, bribing me with treats from the candy counter.

Actually, I really don't mind, because during the real stinkers...the movies that rate a raised middle finger instead of a thumb...we usually sit in the back row and start making out like a couple of horny teenagers.

That's the kind of thing I didn't have much of a chance to do when I was a kid. I was only sixteen when I was "called to meet my destiny", as Giles puts it, so I didn't really have much of an opportunity to date, being busy with the slaying and all.

Even after I met Angel, I didn't get to date much. He took me out for coffee once, and then to a movie two years later. That was pretty much it. And there was no fooling around either time.

But Spike is making up for it.

******************************


"What are we watching?" Spike planted himself at the far end of the sofa and propped his feet up on the coffee table.

"You've got your choice," I said, showing him what I'd rented. "Interview With The Vampire."

He snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Okay...how about From Dusk Til Dawn?"

"What else?" he asks.

"Finding Nemo?"

He smiled at me. Bingo!

Spike is such a little kid sometimes. Between his fondness for candy and his enjoyment of animated films, you'd swear he was only nine years old.

So cute!


******************************

I went into the kitchen and came back out with the popcorn, a huge bowl of M&Ms, and two bottles of Orange Crush. It's disgustingly sweet, and he's the only other person I've ever met that likes it as much as I do.

He's got the movie ready to go, and punches the play button as I settle down next to him on the couch, sitting real close so that we can share the popcorn.

The first day of my period is usually pretty heavy, so I wear a sanitary pad because those super absorbent tampons scare me. When you've literally come back from the dead, you don't take any unnecessary chances with health and mortality. At least I don't...well, beyond the ones that I'm forced to take due to my occupation, I mean.

After a couple of minutes, I feel a rush of fluid exiting my body. Like Pavlov's dog, Spike sits straight up on the couch, then turns and glares at me.

"You're diabolical," he says, inching away.

"How so?" My innocent act needs work. I can't look at him and keep a straight face, so I start tossing M&Ms into the air and catching them in my mouth.

He reaches over and snatches one out of the air, popping it into his own mouth. "It's not going to work, Slayer. I've got a bit more self control than you give me credit for."

Up until tonight, I didn't give him credit for ANY self control. Spike's always been Mr. If-I-want-it-it's-mine-so-hand-it-over-right-NOW! Especially when it comes to me and him...and sex.

Would a guy with self control follow me into the bathroom, pull down my pants, and nail me to the wall during my birthday party? I think not.

I've got to stop thinking about those things, or I'll never win this bet. Then I'll be seriously up shit creek without a paddle anywhere in sight.

However, I'm starting to find out that it's easier said than done, 'specially when a girl's not getting any of what she's become so divinely accustomed to.

That birthday party...wow, what a night that was!

I've often had dreams...fantasies, I guess...of being locked in a house overnight with Spike. The things we do in those fantasies would make the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire look like an Easter egg hunt.

But my fantasy did NOT include all the other people who were there. No friends...no tantrum throwing little sisters...no demons, friendly or otherwise...and definitely no blind date set ups arranged by those whose hearts were in the right place, but who are blissfully ignorant of the fact that my body is permanently spoken for...yeah, and my heart, too.

Absolutely, my heart!



TBC....

Part Six: Bluffing (2)



So, self-control boy thinks he can resist me, huh?

Well...maybe he can. But I'm not gonna make it easy for him. Leaning back against the couch, I drape one of my legs over his, which are still stretched out and on my coffee table.

Spike tensed up and nudged me away a little with his shoulder.

"What's the matter?" I asked him, trying hard not to giggle. "Am I a little too close for your famous self control to handle?"

He gave me a look, then laughed. "You think an awful lot of yourself, don't you, little girl?"

Do I? I hope not. I don't want to be one of those 'Cordharmony' types that figures the sun only rises and sets because they happen to be standing there.

"Stop pouting," he added, watching the little orange and white clown fish bounce off the walls of an aquarium.

"I'm not pouting," I replied, crossing my arms over my chest and glaring straight ahead. "I'm thinking."

"Good God...that's gotta hurt." Sighing, Spike placed the popcorn and candy bowls on the table and turned to face me. He placed one hand on the back of the couch and leaned so close that I could feel his breath on my skin...hypothetically speaking. "Whatcha thinking about, kitten?"

Him. Sex. Stupid bets. How good sex was with him. Stupid, STUPID bets...that I'm probably going to lose...how good he smells...the way his hands feel when they touch my...dammit!

With nothing else popping into my head, I fell back on the age-old excuse. "I have to go the bathroom," I announced, leaping to my feet and diving towards the stairs like a startled bunny rabbit with his tail on fire.

In the bathroom, I took care of business quickly. As I was standing at the sink washing my hands, I glanced in the mirror at the shower curtain.

******************************

About three months ago, I'd replaced the curtain that had been hanging there since the day Mom and I moved into this house. I had to...since I sort of tore it right off it's rings on my 21st birthday.

Of course...Spike was partially responsible for that. I say partially, because even though it was technically my hand that tore it, he's the one who followed me into the bathroom and did the things to me that made me tear it.

Still...a girl only turns 21 once. It should be memorable.

We were about an hour into the party, and all the guests had arrived, including Spike, who had brought his friend Clem along for the ride. I didn't mind. I like Clem, and I knew Spike needed a friend there...someone besides me.

Our physical relationship...just saying those words give me that low down tingle...was still brand new, and we spent the first part of the evening playing the old "We've got a secret" game; the one you play when you and your significant other are the only ones in on it, and you exchange knowing looks and steal fast, hot kisses whenever you can get away with it.

Xander and Anya blindsided me, and invited some guy they thought would be good boyfriend material. Like I can just hook up with Joe Normal, even if that's what I wanted in a man!

Richard was nice enough, and definitely a cutie, but let's be totally honest....he's not even in the neighborhood of the same ballpark where Spike is.

My guy was so jealous. He'll never admit it, but I know a jealous vamp when I see one.

At one point, Richard waylaid me in the hall. He tried to make some witty conversation, and even offered to bring me something to drink. Right about the time I was turning the offer down, Spike appeared in the hallway behind the boy and listened to his awkward advances.

Of course, true to form, he had to be sarcastic and funny, covering up his insecurities I suppose.

"Oohhh, Buffy," he said, sidling down the hall towards me. "Can I get you a soda pop? I think I'm in love."

How cute is THAT?!!

He reached for me, and I pulled away, still nervous of someone seeing us. But Spike, being Spike, just followed me, and actually put one arm on the wall so that I couldn't get away.

Taking my hand, he started to guide it where we both wanted it to go. Unfortunately, Tara stumbled in on us and took all the fun right out of it.

I escaped, and trotted upstairs to use the bathroom, listening to his lame explanation as to what had really been going down in the hallway. A muscle cramp? In his pants? I really think he could have done better than that!

As I stood in the bathroom, realizing that I didn't really need to go, the door opened and in walked my demon lover. I opened my mouth to tell him to get out...that's just rude, I could have been doing anything!...when he took all the wind out of my, admittedly, flagging sails.

Without a word, he grabbed me and hauled me close to him. I started to melt immediately. Well, who wouldn't?

Kicking the door shut, he reached over with one hand and locked it. "Is that what you want?" he asked gruffly. "Some stupid little boy to tell you how pretty you are? To hold your hand and look at you with big cow eyes filled with tender devotion? Is it?"

He was really pissed!

I didn't know what to say, and I really couldn't concentrate on speaking. He had shoved me up against the wall, and his lower body was grinding into mine. Who can think at a time like that?

"I don't think so." He answered his own question, leaning down and whispering it in my ear. "I think you want a man, Slayer. One who knows all the right places to touch you. That's what you need...isn't it?"

True. So true.

"I can say sweet things, too, you know," he hissed, licking my ear lobe. "I'll tell you how lovely you are...how soft and warm you feel. And then," he added, his mouth traveling over my cheek, "I'll tell you how hot and sexy...and deliciously fuckable you are. How I get hard every time I see you."

This was all very, very good.

"Leave the little boy alone, Buffy," he growled. "He could never do right by you...not like I can."

While my brain was trying to process all this, my body was going haywire. He slipped his hands up under my blouse and shoved my bra up, squeezing my breasts and pinching my nipples.

My next move was the result of pure instinct.

I slid my own hand down the front of his body and cupped it over the crotch of his jeans. He was incredibly hard and swollen, and I knew I was going to do him right then and there.

His mouth...that wonderful and talented mouth...came crashing down on mine. We kissed for what seemed like hours, tongues dueling for control. I could feel myself getting wetter and wetter as his hands manipulated my body.

I unbuckled and unzipped him, then reached into his pants and took hold of his cock. It was already wet, and I whimpered in my throat at the feel of it.

Spike started thrusting into my hand, ramming his hips forward. I played with his dick, fondling it in all the ways I knew he liked best, making it even harder.

Then, he'd surprised me. Pulling out of our kiss, he'd hid his face against the side of my neck. "God, I love you," he'd said fiercely.

I almost said it back. Actually wanted to say it back.

I still don't know why I didn't.

Spike had just laughed, shoving his jeans down further. "You don't have to say anything, luv. I know."

That remark had confused me for about a second and a half. Then, he'd dropped to his knees and pulled my pants and underwear down, and I forgot about anything else.

He'd pushed his head between my thighs, nuzzling and kissing me DOWN THERE. I could feel the juice just pouring out of me, and he lapped it up like melted ice cream.

My hearing was a little fuzzy, but I think he'd moaned a bit and said, "Mmm...my girl tastes so sweet. She has the.." licking, licking, licking ..."yummiest little pussy in.." more licking.. "the whole world."

His fingers had crept up the back of my legs, squeezing my fanny and then pushing my thighs open further. My clit was throbbing for some serious attention, and he was so very obliging.

He'd licked it over and over, until my knees were in danger of giving out. Then, he'd fastened his mouth around it and began applying suction.

My head dropped back, cracking against the wall. Needless to say, I'd felt no pain.

Spike gives the absolute best oral sex that has ever been given, I guarantee it. Maybe it's because he doesn't need to stop and breathe. And he can go at it for hours, too.

Oh, man. Heaven was never like this!

My hands had groped around for something to hold onto, and they'd finally landed on his shoulders. Nails digging in, I'd pushed my pelvis forward, wanting him to eat me until I screamed.

It's a good thing that he was still somewhat self aware. He'd stood up and spun me around, bending me over the sink.

"Quiet, baby," he'd murmured in my ear. "Don't want your new boyfriend to hear you being so fantastically fucked."

Modesty, thy name is NOT Spike.

I shook my pants off from around one ankle, and widened my stance. Bracing my hands on the sink, I'd turned my head to look at him...and I had to smile. I knew at that point that I am one lucky girl.

His blue eyes had been almost black with passion, and his lips were slightly parted. But what I really loved seeing was that he was panting for me. I don't know why, since he doesn't have to, but he was doing it...and it was wildly sexy.

"What are you waiting for?" I'd asked him, moving my rear back and rubbing it against him.

He grinned devilishly. "Tell me what you want."

"I want you, baby," I said. It was the simple truth.

Spike loves hearing that sort of thing. He finds it...inspirational.

He had his hands on my hips, holding them in a tight grip as he'd positioned himself and then shoved his erection in me all the way, no stopping, no pausing, no waiting...just all the way in.

To this day, I don't know how we kept it so quiet.

He'd begun to thrust, developing a steady rhythm. It was a perfect one, not too fast, not too slow. I could feel every hard inch of his cock slide in and out of me...could feel his heavy balls swinging against my rump.

My eyes had drifted closed, but he must have been watching my face in the mirror.

"Is that good, baby?" he'd asked, sounding a little too pleased with himself. "Do you like it?"

Did I LIKE it? Well, duh!

"Oh, I love it," I'd moaned, feeding his ego with a spoon. "Feels so good...harder...do it harder."

I heard him laugh, but who cared?

Leaning forward, he'd pushed me down until I was laying flat on the sink, then lowered himself down on me.

And he did it harder...and faster...then slower...then faster again...then even faster...and harder...

"Come on, luv," he'd muttered in my ear. "Do it for me. Come for me. Want to feel it on my cock. Feel that tight little pussy clamp down on it...ah, yeah."

Master of verbal erotica...that's my boy.

By that time, I was whimpering and whining, punctuating with an occasional grunt whenever he really pounded it in hard.

I swiveled my hips in counterpoint, wanting his cock in as deeply as it could possibly go.

It only took a few more thrusts to send us both over the edge. He'd increased his pace, then sent one hand down and around and rubbed my clit firmly.

"Do it now!" he'd ground out. "Come...now...with...me!"

Okay....

There were bright lights flashing in my eyes, even though they were still shut tight, and I could swear that I was hearing the ocean in my throbbing ear drums. The heat radiated from my center as I came, slithering out to all the other vital parts of my anatomy.

Still, somewhere in my addled brain, I knew I needed something to stifle the scream that was building in my throat. I threw one hand out, groping for the towel hanging on the shower rod.

Of course, I missed by a mile, and grabbed the curtain instead.

When I'd felt his semen gushing into me, I'd tightened my fist in the plastic curtain and yanked on it. It tore, and the whole thing...curtain rod and all...came crashing to the ground.

I'd lost my balance and crashed down with it. Spike, shockingly, managed to stay in me as we headed for the floor together.

My fuzzy brain had finally cleared, just in time to hear a soft little tap-tap-tapping on the door.

"Um...is everything all right in there?" Richard's voice was soft and concerned.

Spike had lifted his head and glared, and I knew he was about to yell something like, "Fuck off, Richie!" so I'd clapped one hand over his mouth and answered the question myself, assuring him that everything was as right as the rain, and that I'd be out in a moment.

We'd spent a little time enjoying the afterglow, then straightened up the mess we had made and headed back downstairs to join the people who were utterly clueless as to what was happening right above their heads.

Getting back to the business of the party, I'd opened the gifts brought for me, still tinglingly aware of Spike's proximity.

Willow was so pleased with the massage gadget she'd chosen for me...although how she expected me to carry it around on patrols I do not know...that she'd prattled on something about "instant gratification".

Unable to stop myself, I'd glanced at Spike. We knew something about instant gratification.

When his eyes had met mine, he'd arched one brow in a suggestive manner that made me want to boot everyone else out of the house and gratify myself a little bit more.


******************************

I knew I couldn't very well hang out in the bathroom for the rest of the night, so I flicked off the light and trudged back downstairs.

Spike was waiting for me, and when I plopped down beside him, he un-paused the movie.

We sat in silence for a while, making a dent in the bowl of candy. When poor little Nemo got flushed down the john, Spike turned to look at me.

"You weren't cheating up there, were you, luv?"

I knew what he meant, and my face turned bright red, making me look guilty even though I wasn't.

Swallowing my embarrassment, I looked him right in the eye. "No, I wasn't cheating. I don't need to. Doing just fine, thanks all the same. No problems at all. Not a one. Uh-uh. No, sir."

Talk about overkill!

Spike chuckled and returned his attention to the movie. "You can't bluff for shit, Buffy."

I know. Believe me, I know.




TBC...

Part seven: Another Card Drawn


Since my strategy for using it as bait backfired, my period is just the same old bloody nuisance it's always been...so to speak.

Willpower boy...also known as Spike, the most aggravating vampire ever to suck a neck...is slowly but surely winning this bet. I haven't begged yet, but I have a strong suspicion that it won't be long. And when THAT day comes....

Oh, well. I suppose there's always the consolation prize. Once it's done, we can go back to doing the things we do best together.

I really don't understand why this is happening.

I know I started it, but it wasn't supposed to go the way it's going. Spike is...as he once put it...my willing slave, ready to do anything I ask short of sunbathing on the beaches of Waikiki.

So, what's the deal? Did abolition come along without my noticing it? Has someone cloned Lincoln, and if they did, who said he could free MY slave?

Well, if it's war he wants, it's war he's gonna get!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I opened the door and gave him my most dazzling Pepsodent smile. He returned it as he walked in, then he raised his head and got a good whiff of the air.

"You cooking something?"

Ha! Wouldn't HE like to know?

"Yeah, I felt like baking cookies," I said. "Peanut butter chocolate chip."

His eyes lit up!

"My favorite."

I know.

He followed me into the kitchen and stood next to me watching as I measured and stirred, giving him an occasional crack across the knuckles with a wooden spoon when he stole chocolate chips out of the bag.

I took every opportunity to brush up against him 'accidentally on purpose'. Handing him the spoon, I instructed him to stir while I added more chips.

There was another bag of them on his right, and I had to reach past him to get my hot little hands on it. I extended my arm...giggling madly in my own fevered brain...pressing my breasts against him.

The Rock of Gibraltar just kept stirring.

For my next trick, I opened the bag of chips...with my teeth!

This time, I got a small reaction. His eyes looked into mine, then dropped to watch me tear the top off the bag. His lips parted slightly.

I SAID it was a small reaction, didn't I?

He glanced down at the bowl, pronouncing the dough as fully mixed.

"Okay, now we add the chips!" I said perkily, a junior Julia Child. "Hold the bowl and keep stirring."

As I dumped the chips in, I made my next move.

"You know what the best part is, don't you?"

"Best part of what?" he wanted to know.

Duh! "Of baking cookies. The best part is eating bites of the dough."

"Is that a fact?"

I nodded. "When I was a kid, I ate more cookie dough than my mom ever baked."

Dipping my forefinger into the bowl, I scooped up a glob of dough, then stuck my finger in my mouth and sucked it off.

I could almost hear the 'gulp' as he swallowed.

"Want a taste?" I inquired, the very essence of casual. My finger went back in the bowl and came out adorned with sticky goodness that I offered to him.

I thought I had him for a moment. His head dipped just a tiny bit...

And THEN...that miserable, irritating, low down, scurvy, rotten to the core, lousy, STUPID vampire...scooped the dough off my finger and onto his. He then transferred it to his mouth without so much as a nibble of me!

"Hey, you're right," he said agreeably. "It's tasty this way...unbaked and all."

Sometimes I really...really...hate him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cookie sheets are in the bottom cabinet.

They haven't ALWAYS been in the bottom cabinet. I put them there before Spike showed up.

Instead of kneeling, I bent from the waist so's he could take a look at my faded denim covered ass. Then...when I straightened up...I did it in a way that would give him the opportunity to look down the front of my blouse.

When I was vertical once again, I came close to whacking him across the head with the cookie sheet.

The idiot wasn't even looking in my direction! He was leaning on the counter, paging through Fannie Farmer's Guide to Better Baking!!

The word ARRGGHHH reverberated in my brain.

"Something wrong, luv?"

Oh, hell no. What could POSSIBLY be wrong with this picture?

Essence! Casual! Help!

"No, everything's peachy. Side of keen."

"Right, then." His voice was all brisk and helpful. "What do you want me to do?"

**You know goddamn well what I want you to do! I want you to throw in your towel...scream "I can't take it anymore!" Clear off the counter with one sweep of your hand and lift me up on it...rip my clothes off...kiss me and touch me all over...lay me down...unzip your pants and take out that great, big....**

"Drop teaspoons of dough onto the pan and stick it right in the...oven."


TBC...

Next: Ante Up

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