All About Spike - Print Version
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There's an idea... He closed his eyes, kept them shut.

Gradually, he felt her ever so slightly begin to move beneath him, with him. That's it, baby, that's it...

Did she know he could go all night if he wanted to? And did she really want this over with right away? How much time did they have, anyway?

When she pinched his nipples, he ceased to care. He quickened the pace, arched and bowed, dipping just three inches of his cock in and out of her welling, suctioning entry, again and again...

She let her knees touch his hips, brought one foot down the back of his pantleg. "Mm..."

"Slayer," he whispered, opening his eyes to see her roll her head back on the pillow, sliding her tongue over her lips. "So fucking beautiful..."

Panting, eyes wide, she pulled him down by the nape of his neck and surged against him, taking him all the way in.

He gasped. She gasped louder.

Their eyes locked.

"Buffy?" Giles called from the living room.

"Fine, Giles!" her voice cracked.

Spike reared back slightly and buried his cock to the hilt. Light burst behind his eyes. Nothing slicker, tighter...better in all the world. No one better suited for his bed either, because suddenly she was present, right there with him, undulating against him, craving him as he craved her.

"Slayer," he said possessively.

"Buffy," she corrected.

"Buffy, fuck," he whispered, and yanked her dress up to her breasts, tearing the fabric on the way. She tried pulling it further but it wouldn't budge--so he ripped it in two, finally free to clasp his mouth over her nipple.

Moaning as quietly as she could, she wrapped her legs around his back, running her feet up and down his legs, sliding his jeans off with each downward motion. All the while, she pitched up to meet his pelvis, listening to the sound of their flesh meeting, the bed squeaking; feeling his tongue lash at her nipple, his cock filling her, his body enveloping hers, letting him take her, have her, right there, who cared...

He lifted his head to press his cheek against hers. "Buffy, Buffy, Buffy," he chanted, driving into her wildly, cupping a hand under her ass.

She stretched her arms up above her head, fingers touching the headboard. "Yes!"

He bent to lick and pinch and suck her other nipple.

"Oh, god, Spike!" So amazing... Amazingly amazing... The most... incredible... "Mm...mm, mm," she hummed as she... she was gonna...ohgod...

He felt her inner walls constrict, felt her nails dig into his back, her body tense up...

Don't scream, whatever you do don't scream... To muffle any errant sound she might make, she sank her teeth into his shoulder.

A groan caught in his throat. She's biting me, and oh, fuck, her quim...

Emitting short, tethered moans of release, her body shook to its climax, her pussy wringing and strangling his cock, each expansion bringing with it more sweet come...

Even after she was spent, Spike could feel her exquisite little aftershocks.

My turn now... He wrapped his arms around her back, lifted her up off the bed and proceeded to fuck the hell out of her.

"Hunh! Hunh! Hunh!"

God, that sound, that body...this girl. He whispered feverishly, "Buffy! Buffy! Buffy! Fuck!" Finally, he jerked her close, holding her hips tightly as he let loose a primal roar.

Through her post-orgasmic haze, Buffy saw a bright light. She looked down her stomach at Spike... It was emanating from the amulet.

Was it bad that she'd forgotten all about this part?

But wait...something was wrong. Spike had begun to contort, twist and scream--not in ecstasy. In agony.

"Spike!" she gasped, trying to break free, make it stop. It was no use--they were stuck until the spell decided to unstick them.

A brilliant amber glow spiraled up her torso, lighting her from the inside out.

"You tricked me!" he wailed, falling out of her and off the bed.

That's when a searing pain grabbed her by the skull--and all she could do was scream.

***

"Buffy!" Giles shook her awake.

She opened her eyes.

"Good lord," he said.

"What?"

"Your eyes...they're, they're glowing."

"It worked?" she asked, holding the sheet Giles must have draped over her.

"Uh...it appears to have worked, yes."

Spike.

She sat up and saw him on the floor, seizuring. Flinging the sheet aside, she ran to him to find that his eyes were sunken in, staring blankly, his body bluish-white and waif-thin. "Spike? Spike! Are you..."

"I don't think he can hear you, Buffy."

"Oh god," she stood up, quivering, hand over her mouth. Why do terrible things happen to every man I have sex with? "You didn't tell me this would happen! Why didn't you tell me this would happen?"

"I--I didn't know. Honestly. But I suppose one must always assume that when there's a transfer of power, the donor is enervated--"

"Into this?"

"Well, I--"

She grabbed him by his collar. "But it reverses, right? Tell me it reverses when I kill that Monolith motherfucker."

"Buffy, I fail to see the--"

"Dammit!" she stamped her foot. "Will it go away when I kill Grosh?"

"I'm not...quite sure." He looked frightened.

Stupid idiot. She wanted to wring his neck.

"Are you all right, Buffy?"

"All right? Oh, I'm great. This was the best idea ever." She released her hold on him.

"Buffy," he fingered his neck, "We need to get you to Grosh immediately. I don't like what this is doing to you."

"Because glowy eyes equals demon, right?"

"Well, that; your temper...and the fact that you've stomped a hole in my floor."

She looked down, and stumbled back. There was a depression in the rug where her foot had impacted.

"Holy..."

He was right. Something was happening to her, changing in her. She wanted to destroy things. And not just the floor. "Giles? Let's go. Now."

***

"Ya big loser," Buffy eulogized, watching Grosh collapse into a dead heap.

As she wiped the remains of his heart from her hands, her body shook, her legs gave way, and she fell to the floor.

"Buffy!" Giles came running, watching amber light fly out of her body and up through the altar ceiling.

"I'm okay," she said. "Little nauseous."

He helped her up. "Well, you're green again."

"What?" she touched her face.

"Your eyes."

"Oh," she nodded. "I don't think glowy's really my color. I'm sorry, Giles, about the--"

He shook his head. "I'm proud of you, Buffy. You managed to avert yet another apocalypse, this time without succumbing to the darkness that blasted spell obviously wrought."

"What was that, anyway?"

"I believe you were infused with the lifeforce of the demon. Not only Spike's demon, but its entire power source."

"Nifty. Book didn't mention that either, huh?"

He shook his head and smiled. "Ancients do enjoy being vague."

"Stupid ancients." She looked at him. "Giles? Please don't get the wrong idea, but I...I need to go back and--"

"See if Spike is all right."

"Yeah."

***

Buffy ran up the steps and into Giles' bedroom. "Spike?"

No Spike. No clothes of Spike. Nothing but that obnoxious amulet on the bed.

He was gone.

For authenticity's sake, she headed to the restrooms. Heels clicking down the empty hallway, she ruminated over what she could possibly say to him. Sorry about the seizures. Hey, saw what it was like to be you for an hour. Even so, I still need to kill you because it's my job. Oh and by the way? Loved the sex. Better than Angel!

Yeah. Best she never, ever see him again.

And wouldn't you know it--just as she finished making that resolution, who should strut down the steps and into her path.

For a few seconds, they froze, staring at each other.

He was the same Spike again. Muscley, alert, and well, gorgeous. Could he tell that her body thrummed with the knowledge of his proximity?

Spike couldn't figure out what was going on in Buffy's head. She wasn't angry...wasn't jumping for joy either... Not that he cared either way... But god, she looked incredible.

He spoke up. "Don't bother with the song and dance, Slayer. I'm leavin' town tonight."

"You have blood on your mouth." It was more observation than accusation.

"Well, yeah," he licked it from his lips, "Vampire, love. Or had you forgotten?"

No, I remember. Give you three guesses why... "I'll never forget that."

He frowned slightly, searching her eyes.

She inhaled and exhaled.

Talk, you pillock. "How'd the big world-saving go?"

"Still here, isn't it?"

He nodded. "Why I helped."

"Right," she said, crossing her arms. "So you could eat people again."

"That was your big selling point, wasn't it? We all do what we have to do." His eyes narrowed. "No matter who we have to suck the life out of in the process."

"Spike... I had no idea that would happen to you."

"Conscience all shiny and clear now? Good for you." He brushed past her.

Acting on instinct, she gripped his leather sleeve and shoved him against the wall. She couldn't let him go. Not yet. For some reason.

He laughed. "Hate to break it to you, pet, but you're not calling the shots tonight." He spun her around and pinned both her wrists to the wall.

Mutual expressions of panic, fear, anger, lust... and with an intake of breath, their mouths met for the very first time.

Moaning desperately, they melted into one another.

She grabbed his coat lapels, hungrily probing his mouth with her tongue. A tinge of metallic in the taste... the taste of someone else's blood... but she couldn't think about that right now.

Knew it'd be like this, he rejoiced inwardly. God, Buffy... His arms slid down, circled around to caress her ass, her back, her hair.

Making out as if it were the end of the world, she thrust her hips forward; he lifted her legs and ground against her. Feeling for the nearest door, he broke the lock and punched it open.

Dark utility closet--perfect. They stumbled in and the door swung closed behind them.

"Buffy," he whispered between kisses.

"Oh, god," she whispered, hating herself, hating him...loving this.

He knocked a row of toilet paper rolls off a shelf, hoisted her on top of it and closed her legs to divest her of her panties, ultimately stuffing them into his jacket pocket.

She allowed him to stand between her legs again, let him hike up her skirt, kiss her neck...

"No little crosses this time, pet."

"Lots of wood in here."

Chuckling, he placed her hand over his hard-on. "Got that right."

She squeezed with one hand, tugged at his belt with the other, gave up and unzipped. Took hold of his cock and brought it out.

He hissed. She arched backward, maneuvering her bottom towards him, guiding him in...

With a groan, he rammed in, up, all the way home.

She cried out.

He licked and sucked at her forbidden neck.

"Oh, god, Spike..."

As their bodies writhed, their tongues mingled, teased. This was turning romantic.

Not right, he told himself. This isn't the way she should be. I got my place. She's got hers.

He pounded into her, making her moan, making the shelf rattle against the wall. "That's right, Buffy, take it, take all of me, like you did that night..."

"Spike, I told you--"

"I don't care," he growled. "And neither should you."

"No, I--"

"Say it. Say you don't care," he commanded, shaking her roughly.

He rammed into her, several times, waiting.

"Say it!"

She shut her eyes and ground out, "I...don't...care!"

"That a girl," he whispered, and pumped slower, pulling almost fully out, plunging back in.

With an urgent grunt, she grabbed his ass to keep him close, to keep him angled a certain way, to keep his abs rubbing against her swollen clit as she quickly bucked forward.

He knew what she needed. A few more hurried, rhythmic thrusts, and she'd be pushed over the edge.

"Yes, yes, yes!" she encouraged hoarsely, drawing out the last repetition with abandon, letting herself yell for once.

Gonna miss this most of all... With or without that sodding amulet, the Slayer clearly knew how to wrench the Hell out of a bloke.

"Oh, hell, BU--!" Quaking, he collapsed into her, whispering the rest of her name, shooting the last of his dead-but-not-cold semen into her warm depths.

Catching her breath, she tenderly touched his hair.

He moved to her ear. "You're making a mistake."

She whispered, "I don't care."

"I'm leaving tonight."

She took a breath. "I don't care."

He grabbed a fistful of hair at the base of her skull and kissed her.

After several minutes, they grudgingly broke apart.

Spike pulled out, readjusted, and zipped up his pants.

Buffy tried to fix her hair. It had been up in a loose bun, which was now... looser. She could feel the wrinkles in her dress. The bright red flush on her face. She'd really have to stop in the bathroom now.

Spike pulled a chain and the light went on. He looked at her, and down at his feet. "Well. This is it, Slayer."

"Yeah." She cleared her throat and hopped off the shelf. "Where we get off."

He arched a brow, smiling.

With a brief chuckle, she rolled her eyes. "Why didn't I go with 'end of the road'?"

Spike nodded, looked around the tiny room. She was right about the wood--all manner of mops, brooms, two by fours. "So...I get points for saving the world, right? A little non-staking for good behavior?"

She held up a hand. "Just...don't."

"Right." He breathed in, knowing what he had to do--this was a dead end, plain and simple. Emphasis on 'dead'. Even if she was being strangely forgiving now, he knew it wouldn't last. More than anything, though, he wanted to toss her over his shoulder, throw her in his car and take her with him. "Well. Until the next apocalypse, then."

She sighed. "Hope not."

He smirked, said, "Yeah. Hope I never have to see you again," and made for the door.

"Spike?"

"Yeah, pet?"

"My underwear?"

"Oh, pfft," he waved his hand. "Tore on your heel. Completely ruined. You got no use for 'em."

"And you do?" She smiled and shook her head. "Fine. As long as you don't wear them."

"Maybe just on my head then. Y'know, for a moment of quiet reflection. Not--down the promenade or anything."

"Right," she said with a chuckle.

He stilled, smiled genuinely. Drinking her in. "Take care, Buffy."

"Yeah. You too, Spike."

At that, he walked out of her life.

***

Buffy found Willow and Xander near the stage. "Hey, guys."

"Buffy! You disappeared! Where'd you go?"

"You guys were worried about me?"

"Well, it was a toss-up between you ditched us, or the toilet monster swallowed you up."

Buffy smiled. "Toilet monster doesn't swallow. Just nibbles a little."

"Aha," he grinned. "Do we get to see the bite marks?"

"I would, but Cordy might get the wrong idea."

"So what really happened?"

She shrugged as if it were nothing. "Ran into a vamp. Turned into this big wrestling match, yadda yadda; see above re: every Tuesday."

"Was it a girl and was there mud? Just let me picture it for a second before you answer."

"No."

He snapped his fingers in disappointment. "Oh! Too soon!"

Excitedly, Willow blurted, "Ohh! We also ruled you out as the skank having sex in the utility closet."

A smile froze on Buffy's face. "What?"

"Yeah, you missed it," Xander said. "Someone got lucky tonight. Or, you know, just very drunk and impressionable."

Buffy hoped she wasn't blushing. "Really? How could you tell?"

"Well, noises and things. You know." Willow lowered her voice and leaned in. "Sex noises. I had to forcibly pull Xander away from the door."

"Really?"

"Yep. So it was toilet monster, ditch, or skank. Or, you know," Xander feigned boredom by slumping his shoulders and rolling his eyes, "Killing a vampire and protecting the world."

Buffy shrugged a shoulder. "Sorry to disappoint." Actually it's B and C, plus E, 'Biggest Liar on Earth'...add to that F, 'Worst Slayer Ever' and you've pretty much got me pegged!

"Well, it's good you're back--Dingoes are going on in a few minutes. Uh-oh, Angel alert."

Buffy's eyes widened. She didn't turn. "Where?"

"Just walked in the front. Are you still avoidy?"

"Yeah, I--I can't see him right now." Shower, must shower, right away... "If he asks, can you tell him I felt sick and went home?"

"Sure."

"Thanks. Tell Oz I'm sorry I missed," she apologized, and motored out the back door.

***

Spike got into his car, shoved the liquor bottles out of the way and patted his chest pockets for his keys. Digging a hand in his hip pocket, he lifted out a pair of lacy panties. Brought it to his nose, breathed in. Shook his head with a smile.

"Til next time, gorgeous."

Finding the keys, he gunned the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, tires screeching. Cruising down the main street, he saw a man walking and slowed to see if he might have a few bucks he could steal... Not likely. It was Angel.

Well, well.

Grinning widely, Spike dangled Buffy's panties out the window and drove off with a whooping holler.

Angel looked up at the speeding car and frowned. Is that...? A scent caught his nose. Is *that*...?

He shook his head. No. No way in hell.

***

"Buffy." After crashing a Scooby meeting, Angel had cornered her in the library stacks. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you--tell you what?" Remember, innocent until proven slutty...

"About Grosh? I could've helped."

Oh, thank god. "That's okay. He's dead now. Cold and heartless, just like I like 'em."

"Yeah. The witch power thing. Glad that did the trick." He lowered his voice. "But if you'd come to me I could've told you about the legend."

"Legend? Wh--there's a legend?"

"There was a way I could've transferred the source of my power to you."

"Huh?" Have you completely lost your mind?

"I won't get into the details now, but the transfer would've been temporary, only 'til you killed him. And my soul would've cancelled out all the negative consequences for you. I'm surprised Giles didn't know about this."

Stunned, Buffy stared at him. "I could've..."

"Buffy?" Giles called.

She pointed towards her Watcher's voice. "I need to--I'm gonna..."

"Yeah. It doesn't matter anyway. You killed him. That's the important thing," he said, staring at her longingly.

With a nod, Buffy walked numbly out to the main area, Angel following.

"Yes, Buffy, I need you to--"

Suddenly, the library doors swung open, and everyone turned.

Heart racing, Buffy braced herself... until Faith casually ambled in.

"So. What'd I miss?"


THE END