All About Spike - Plain Version
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Chapter: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14
Spike Lips! Lips of Spike!
By mr. monkeybottoms
HEY! DISCLAIMERS! ALL RIGHT!!: yeah, as usual, Joss W. is a hog-he took his ball home and won't let us play with it...well, ha! I got my own ball! Maybe it's not the original ball, and maybe I get no money or rights from this ball...okay, I'm rambling. I own nothing. ME and Joss own it all. Bah
SUMMARY: Spike still seems to have those lustful feelings for Buffy. She, of course, kisses and runs. He's annoyed. What wackiness happens next?? Oooh! Actually, this is Xander/Spike bonding...as much as those two possibly could anyways.
AGAIN: Thanks for the reviews. I haven't even told any of my friends that I have written a story and posted it here...so to read such positive comments does the heart good. It is so exciting to read them. I agreed with Supergirl about my last line in chapter 2...I wasn't totally satisfied with it either. I changed it slightly, but may change it again when I think of a better ender. I am hooked on this writing stuff now, and last night stayed up till 4 am...yes, I am a Fanfic junkie. Laundry? Dishes? Supper? Hello? Wish I had a maid. No, I take that back...I wish I had a Spike, in his duster..."Hey Spike, do you have dinner on yet?" Instead of making food he raises his eyebrows at me and carries me off to the bedroom to teach me a lesson or two about trying to make him cook...lol
"Mr. Harris, I'm here to give you your sponge bath." Anya put down the metal basin filled with warm soapy water and bent low over her 'patient', exposing a large amount of breast. "Oh! My! You really are dirty! I must take care of this right away!"
Xander grinned and ripped his shirt off for Anya's ministrations, then grabbed her roughly and pulled her close. "Oh, I'm dirty all
right," he whispered huskily in her ear, making her squeal with delight. "And I'm gonna show you just how dirty right away." He yanked at her skimpy excuse for a nurses uniform, making what little top she had covering her breasts pop open. His breathing quickened as he saw the sexy lacey bra she wore underneath. "Mmmm...very nice Nurse Anya."
Anya pulled back and swiftly removed the rest of her clothes, standing before him in a classic white outfit:frilly push-up, sheer garters and silky panties. A small white nurse's cap was atop her head. Not to mention the very high heels. "Shall I 'wash' you now sir?"
she asked coyly, reaching for the sponge.
"I'll give you something to wash." Xander pulled off his pants and motioned her closer. He was very hard and loving every moment of it. "And not with the sponge either." He pulled himself out of his underwear and stroked slowly.
Anya gave a small gasp. "Sir! What are you doing!" But she obediently knelt down in front of the
bed. "You need a trained professional for this sort of job!"
Xander's breathing grew heavy as she bent forward, about to take his throbbing hard-on into her mouth. Why was he so lucky? Anya was the best girlfriend in the world. What other guy was blessed enough to have a beautiful, hot woman who loved sex and every kinky game he could think of? Life couldn't get better...
"OH! Bloody...take it outside will you? I'm trying to watch the telly."
Xander almost fell off the bed. "Spike! What the hell are you doing here?" He whipped a sheet over his waist and tossed Anya the top blanket. She wrapped it around her sullenly, not happy to see the vampire had returned home early.
"I live here, remember?" Spike flopped down on the couch, a box of Triscits in his hands.
"No, you freeload here. I live here. And I'm trying to have a moment of privacy with my girlfriend so get lost." He stood up and gave his best annoyed look. Spike looked at him, then his eyes dropped pointedly to the poking front of his sheet. Xander sat down again and bunched the sheet some more.
"I thought you were patrolling with Buffy," he said, rummaging for his pants.
Spike shrugged and flipped the channels. "She killed a Turalk demon and called it a night. Ran back to Melonhead I wager."
Anya, now dressed, flopped own beside Spike and grabbed a Triscit, still wearing her little hat. "You need a place of your own so I can have sex with Xander. You interrupted Xander's favorite game, 'The Naughty Nurse.'"
Spike looked at Anya. "Oh, really? I never noticed. Why don't you tell me all about it." He offered her another of Xander's salty woven biscuits.
"Well, he's a bad, dirty patient and I come to give him a sponge bath-" Anya began eagerly, but was interrupted by Xander pulling her off the couch.
"An, he doesn't need to know the details. Why don't you go home, and I'll call you tomorrow, ok?" She pouted and he gave her a deep kiss. "I'll make it up to you, I swear."
"You'd better. I expect at least four orgasms next time...and we get to play MY favorite
game," she said as she pulled on her coat.
"And what's that then?" Spike called after her. She paused on the stairs and turned around.
"The Dominatrix and the Slave."
Spike gave a snort and turned back to the TV while Xander hustled his girlfriend out before she could say another word. He didn't need the entire undead world to know his sexual fantasies. When he came back down he found Spike snapping his fingers at him.
"Hey, slaveboy, warm me up a cuppa blood will ya? I seem to have injured myself, but never fear, I don't need a sponge bath." He smirked a bit. "Unless that darling little
demon girl of yours volunteers. That's a hot little sprocket you have there."
"Why are you still here?" Xander grabbed the Triscits away from the vamp. "And stop eating all my food. Go warm up your own blood, mooch."
"Stop eating my
foo-ood," Spike mimicked in a high falsetto. "Pick up after yourself. Suck it, Nurse Anya."
Xander saw red and grabbed Spike, who yelped a bit in protest as he was pulled off the dank, worn couch. Triscits went flying everywhere. "You little weasel, I am gonna pound you so hard-"
"Ugh Xander, more sex talk? Really, save it for your honey, she seems the jealous type." He made kissy-kissy noises in Xander's face.
"That's it, chip or no chip, you're going down." Xander punched him hard in the stomach, making Spike bend over, clutching his belly. Grabbing him by the scruff of the neck he sent him flying into the coffee table. It was made of cheap particleboard and shattered into a thousand pieces. Spike rolled over painfully and gave a short, wheezing laugh.
"Oh, sure, hit a man while he's chipped and injured." He rose slowly to his feet, holding his shoulder. Xander frowned, noticing for the first time his badly burnt skin and the scabby cut on his cheek.
"What happened? Is Buffy okay?" he asked, worried now.
"The Slayer is just fine," Spike answered, a touch bitterly. "I was on the receiving end of the hurting. Damn Turalk and his bloody no-touch defenses."
"Here." Xander got his first-aid kit down from the shelf above the dryer and sat down beside him. "Take off your shirt. And if you make one-just ONE-homo erotic comment I will throw you out with a stake firmly implanted in your chest. At sunrise."
"Wouldn't dream of it." Spike took of the remains of his shirt and tossed it into a corner. Xander sent him a frustrated look. "What?"
"Feel free to just throw your things wherever. Why are you such a slob?" He squeezed some aloe-vera onto the angry red patch of skin on his shoulder. It was covered in pus-filled bubbles. "Ugh, you do
not want these to burst. Or do you? Maybe you need to get them lanced."
"Too bad the 'nurse' left already, we coulda asked her," Spike said, craning his head around to peer at the mess on his shoulder. "Nah. Just patch it and be done with it. By morning it'll be mostly healed." He sat obediently still while Xander cut and taped some gauze over it. His palm itched and he turned his hand over, looking at the mark from Buffy's necklace.
"What happened there? Turalk carried a cross too?" Xander handed Spike the ointment. He looked at it for a moment and put it aside, tracing the burn with his index finger.
"No," he said simply.
Continued in Chapter four
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