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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks for the reviews and special thanks to Kara for the betaing. I promise I will try not to be Mistress Maddonna again, hun!
“Okay, Spike, how are we going to do this?” It was the moment of truth; time to DO this.

“You take a few puffs, and we wait a few minutes `till it kicks in. Then we go out, and look for a few freshly-risen vamps. I don't want you to go against the strongest ones right away.” Spike looked me right in the eyes as he gave me instructions; I couldn't seem to break eye-contact at that moment. Nerves, I guess? My palms were sweating. Oh, yeah, it must be because I'm nervous about the experiment of smoking and fighting vamps.

“Well, thank you, Spike; so nice to have one more person to tell me how to fight vamps. But I think I can take care of myself. I've been slaying vamps and demons for more than 5 years now, and with enhanced senses, I'm sure I could do even better.” I was starting to feel just a little testy and defensive. I'm sure it's part of the nervous feeling I'm having, and all about the experiment, right?

“Yeah, but not when you get distracted easily, and not when you can't stop laughing.” Spike continued on, not realizing he'd started to drop into what I thought of as the voice of “Lecture-Spike”.

“Why would I start laughing?” I felt that line start to draw together in between my eyebrows, the one that began when I questioned something I thought improbable.

“Didn't you have the sudden, unexplainable urge to laugh last night?” He was serious!

“No, I actually was angry, and felt more pissed off than anything else. And you know, a pissed slayer is not a laughing slayer.” I felt a slight rumble of last night's feelings towards Willow come to the surface again.

“Well, pet, tell me: exactly how much did you smoke, then?” He was starting to get that smirk back on his face. Smug. That's it.

“Just a pull... a puff? ...a...toke?...Oh! I know! A 'hit'! That's what they called it!” God, I hated being an ingénue.

“Okay, pet, really any of that is right. But, that said, then there is no way I am letting you start fighting until you try the thing out proper first. You have to ride it out, get to know all the feelings it can give you. Y' need t' know what your reaction is to it, really, and hey
Want t' do this safe-like then. Come on, we smoke first, and then we go out for a little clubbing, Slayer.” Oops, Spike was slipping back into thug-speak.

“Wow! For the first time since I met you, what you said actually makes sense!” Well, it did!
“'Oi! There's no reason to insult a vamp that's tryin' to help you!” Mood-swings much?

“Okay, okay! I was just trying to be funny And you obviously lack of a good sense of humor. You and you perverted British humor, what with the Spanish Inquisition and all...“

I really didn't want to get into another verbal fight with him. I needed him. I needed what he could do for me. And of course, although I'd have never admitted it out loud, I needed what he could do to me.

“Okay, Spike, we smoke, we wait, we go out, but NOT to the Bronze! I don't want my friends to see me with you. And if we go out, I need to get changed. I dressed for patrol, not for partying or for going out.” A girl had standards, even a soon to be stoned girl. I couldn't go out clubbing in these boots!

“Oh, so the Slayer wants to put on something sexy for me! I never would've imagined that this day would come!” Now he was being both smug and smarmy.

“Don't be stupid, Spike! I'd dress for the men in the club, not for you, you idiot.”

“Alright, then, Slayer, let's do this.” Uh-oh. Zero-hour was here. I was still nervous.

He headed for the ladder, and he started descending it down to the basement-level of his crypt. I followed along after him, not knowing, really, where he wanted me to go; whether down to the lower-level, or to stay up topside and wait in what served as his living room. He was lighting candles, which seemed to be everywhere, and I looked around. He had really pimped the place; I would say it was “posh”. There was a huge bed in the middle of this level, with red satin sheets, and a rich coverlet. Nearby was an antique chest of drawers, several large book cases, full of books and odd things, small tables placed here and there, and even a comfy-looking sofa.

When he was done lighting all the candles, he went to his bedside table. He opened a drawer, and took out a little plastic baggie and something that looked like a ceramic vase; I figured that this must be his bong. Then, he went upstairs again, with the bong in his hand, but he came back with it shortly.

“You see, pet, the bong is a kind of water-pipe. Do you remember that creature in “Alice in Wonderland” that smoked a hookah, or water-pipe? Well, it's kind of like that. When you light it, and start to inhale, the smoke rises through the water, which cools it rightly down so it doesn't burn your lungs. Now be a good girl, and do it as I show you.” Lecture-Spike was back again.

He took his big silver Zippo lighter in his hand, and clicking it to life, lit it up. He showed me how to use it: wrapping his full lips around the pipe, he mimicked the actions of taking a hit while using the lighter, then he passed them both to me. We both took five or six long pulls each on the pipe, while passing it back and forth to each other. Then we put it down. Within moments I felt different. I suddenly started to feel both of my legs shaking, my palms were sweating even more I think, and my skin was almost itching; almost as if it was too tight. I felt almost floaty, yet like my body would soon be almost as heavy as a big rock, so I felt like I had the need to lay down on his bed. The sheets smelled like him. I closed my eyes, and started fantasizing about Spike naked on this exotic bed. His pale white skin, and the deep blood red satin were a lethally contrasting combination.

'*Oh. My. God... I am doing it again! I'm thinking about naked-Spike again! I've got to stop! Focus, Buffy! Yeah, right. Like that is going to happen right now!*' And what is up with these conversations with myself in my head?

“Okay, Spike, let's get going. I have the feeling, if I stay lying on you bed another minute, I will fall asleep.” Or something else...

“So, to the dorm first. I need to get changed. But you have to promise me you will stay quiet! I still don’t want anybody to see you sneaking back to my room with me. It would look like me smuggling you in for some hot monkey sex or something!” ‘*Damn, why did I just say that?*’

“You sure, Slayer, you don’t want my hot li’l body?” he said, winking at me with that
oh-so- sexy smirk on his face.

‘*Smug bastard!*’ I thought, but outwardly replied, “Yes, I’m sure. Now do as I said, and let’s get going!”

I was giggling on the whole way to my dorm, silly thoughts whirling in my mind: Spike wearing glasses and a suit, being a teacher; Spike and me sneaking into hidden places on campus for a few clandestine kisses; me smoking a joint with Spike, in the daylight, sitting on the grass next to my dorm. ‘*God, what is wrong with me; again? Thinking of Spike all the time. Stupid vampire, stupid Buffy. That was a baaaad idea. But there’s no way I am going to chicken out of it now.*’ And with that, I put my handily-learned-from-Willow-patented ‘Buffy Resolve Face’ mentally and firmly in place.

When we reached my dorm, I asked Spike to stay out of sight in the stairwell while I went up to get dressed.

I burst through the door, and into my room. Everything was dark. No Willow, thank God.

I opened my closet, and looked at my clothes. What should l I wear? Something seductive. I wanted to take his breath away by my looks alone. Okay, so he actually has no breath, but that would be still funny. I giggled again, uncontrollably.

I found my black leather skirt and a black see-through, long sleeved lacey top, the sleeves of which were cut into strips, so it showed a lot of skin. I quickly got out of my denim skirt --

‘*why did I choose to wear it anyway? I don’t patrol in skirts anymore!*’ -- and my white
organza top, leaving on the underwear, and got re-dressed. I let my hair fall down long onto my shoulders, put on some red lipstick and lot of lip gloss, and highlighted my eyes with a simple black eyeliner. Grabbing my favorite black leather jacket, I was out of my room, and
looking for Spike.

When I found him, he was standing just next to the “no smoking” sign in the stairwell,
smoking his “coffin nail” cigarettes.

“Damn it, Spike, don’t you see the no-smoking sign? Why do you smoke those things, anyway?” I asked, slapping his arm.

“The Big C. isn’t an issue for me. You’re ready, Buffy?” So much for taking his breath away by my looks alone.

“Yeah.” I said, and suddenly I heard my stomach grumbling.

“Well, then, Slayer, follow me. I guess you are a bit hungry, aren't you?”

“Hungry as a wolf. Or maybe not. Saying that makes me think of Oz.” And, suddenly, out of nowhere, and apparently for no reason, I burst into an idiotic laugh. I didn't know what got into me; I felt like I had just said the funniest thing in the whole world.

“And I see that MJ has started kicking in, right, pet? Fine then, so let's go.” He stood up, still as graceful as ever, and was ready to leave.

“MJ?” I asked. I had no clue what he was talking about.

“Mary Jane, weed, schmoke, buddha, dank, green bud, the chronic, kind weed, bud, skunk, red, green, wacky tobacky, Maui-Wowy, Acapulco Gold, reefer, grass, cheeba, pot. Means all the same, luv. But, we should really get going now.”

So we left my dorm quickly. Leaving there, we made our way towards the center of town, where we could stop to grab something to eat.

“What do you want to eat, luv?”

“I don't know; something salty but not spicy, and definitely no onions. Onions are not the food you eat before a date.” And that came out of my mouth without a thought.

“So, are we on a date now, pet?” His eyes were twinkling, but he was reserved.

“No, of course not! We are on a professional, scientific experience,” I said. But why did I feel like I was lying to him, and also to myself? Why couldn't I get the images of Spike and me naked under those red sheets out of my mind?

Anyway, I ended up just getting myself a sandwich, and then we headed out for this dance club, called “Studio”. It wasn't anything like The Bronze. The big dance floor was in the middle of the club. Radiating outwards away from the dance floor there were couches everywhere; These comfy-looking couches all had white covers on them, and were flanked by little white tables. Everything in the club was decorated in a white and black theme, or vice versa. Downstairs everything was white, trimmed or highlighted in shiny black, and was expensive looking, but dressy-casual. Up above it also had a balcony like The Bronze did, but it looked like up there everything was done in the opposite colors of black with a little white. Spike seemed to know all the staff; we didn't even have to wait in the line, and Spike headed us directly for the VIP area on the balcony. I didn't know how he managed to do it, but there was nobody else in the VIP area up there when we arrived. I looked at him, with an unvoiced question, and he explained:

“Once I helped the owner with some demon business; he owes me.”

“I think I'd rather not know, Spike.” Best for me not to get riled up right this minute about his involvement in what was undoubtedly shady demon business, knowing Spike.

The music was nothing like I was used to in the Bronze. Usually, young bands were playing there, but here, the DJ was playing music like I had never heard before. It was electronic and dynamic, with heavy drums, and weird synthesized tunes. It totally took me over; I was sitting there, in the near-dark upper VIP level, listening to it, and I felt like I was floating.

I quickly took off my leather jacket and closed my eyes, listening to the tunes, my head falling back to the sofa while Spike started rolling a joint. When I heard that familiar click of his Zippo, I opened my eyes, watching him taking long pulls off the joint before passing it to me. I took it, trying to appear casual, like I how knew to smoke a cigarette, and tried to inhale it’s smoke. Of course, I ended up coughing.

I felt Spike’s hand on my back, caressing it, whispering words in my ear to calm my nerves, and helping me to stop coughing.

“Shhh, easy pet, try to inhale and exhale slowly,” he said, gentling me with both word and deed.

I felt my need to cough fading away, and odd, tingling feeling on my back, just where he was touching me.

I looked into his beautiful blue eyes, and it took my breath away. I couldn’t get away from it anymore: I really lusted after him.

But I didn’t want to act on these desires; I knew I had to deny them, so I just simply took the joint in my mouth, ready to give it another try.

“Easy, pet, just pull the smoke into your mouth, and then open it a little, and inhale the smoke with some fresh air to your lungs.” How could teacher-Spike function after smoking pot?

With him calming me, I finally managed to smoke the joint, passing it back and forth a few times. I felt great, my senses coming alive.

When we finished smoking, Spike took me by the hand, saying I should come over to the banister, where I could look out over the dancing and milling crowd in order to try to focus on my senses. He said that this would be a good test to start off with. So I stood up, putting my jacket back on as I felt a bit cold, walked to the banister, and looked down at the crowd.. The club was non-smoking (and it must have been a torture to Spike, not being able to smoke on his cancer-sticks), so I was better-able to see and smell the people. And then, suddenly, I saw a guy dancing with a girl, start vamping out. I went over the banister, and jumped straight down from the balcony to the dance-floor, ran directly to the couple, and grabbed the vamp. He tried to shove my arm off of him, but I was quicker, and I kicked him in the stomach dropping him to the floor. I quickly whipped my stake out of the pocket of my jacket, and I slammed it through his chest, directly into his heart, dusting him.

The dancing audience didn't really notice the whole thing. They were just dancing as though nothing had happened. I guessed they all must have been high on something. Ya think?

So I was standing there after the fight, just panting and feeling exactly what Faith was always talking about: hungry and horny. I looked around for Spike, and he was approaching me across the dance-floor; stalking me, ever-so-smoothly, like a panther that is just about to hunt his prey down, And I could swear I saw lust in his eyes. When he finally reached me, he grabbed me by wrapping an arm around my waist, and he was looking right into my eyes. My brain shut down, right there. I suddenly felt his lips on my lips, his tongue searching for mine. And I was kissing him back, feeling as if I was drowning without his kiss. I grabbed him, wrapping one hand about his biceps, and then grabbed the back of his hair with the other hand. I felt his erection pressing through his jeans against my belly, and all I could think about was getting his cock into my throbbing, hot pussy as soon as possible. He must have known exactly what I was thinking of, because he grabbed my wrist and started pulling me back towards the VIP balcony. We practically ran up the rest of the stairs, and saw that it was still unoccupied. I pushed Spike down on the nearest black leather couch, and straddled his lap, with my legs to either side. I was kissing him everywhere; his lips, his face, his nose, all the while I was grinding myself on his lap. I was aching for his touch. He reached down between us, unbuckled his belt, and pulled down the zipper of his jeans. I made a quick mental note to myself for being so far-seeing to wear the leather skirt, and I pulled it up. His hands still between us, he started rubbing my pussy with his fingers, through the lace of my panties.

“Fuck, Slayer, so hot and wet for me.” His voice rumbled in my ear, his unnecessary puffs of breath a caress to my fevered skin; the barest brush of his bottom lip felt as smooth as cooled silk.

“Mmmmmmpf,” was all I could say.

He grabbed the crotch of my panties, I heard the sound of fabric tearing, and then I suddenly felt air, breezing on my outer lips. He suddenly slid two of his pale, slim fingers inside me, and started pumping in and out. I instinctively started riding his fingers.

“Tha`s my girl, ride my fingers with that hot little quim of yours.” And I did. But it wasn't enough. “Is that good, luv? Is that what you want?” Oh, God, he wanted me to speak coherently.

“Please Spike... I need…ummmmn…to…to…ahhhh--uhh… to feel…oh…to feel you... inside of me. Please! ... Fuck! …Fuck me... ummmng...with that…that big ... dick... of yours?” Coherent thought was packing up and moving away.

He removed his digits and I rose up a bit, to be able to lower myself onto his shaft. As I looked expectantly at him, he raised his left hand to his mouth and slowly licked his fingers clean. It was one of the sexiest things I have ever seen in my life. At first, I just barely let the tip of his cock slide against me, then with an experimental rocking, barely into me; then, I rocked him into my body, feeling it bit by bit as it stretched me. Suddenly, I couldn't wait anymore, and I pushed myself down so he was inside me all the way in. God, he was big. So big! I had to stop for a second to adjust to him, but as soon as I did, I started riding him at a pace that almost felt inhuman.

“Oh, God Slayer, I never imagined that being inside you would be so fucking perfect! God! What're you doin' t' me?” He stared at me, with the most adoring look of awe on his face.

I squeezed him with my inner muscles again and again. He was beginning to watch me through half-drooped lids.

“Fuck, Buffy you are so bloody tight! Oh, God, yes! squeeze me with those muscles, tha`s it, baby. Oh, my girl!” He was giving back as good as he was getting, too.

Suddenly, we heard someone clearing his, throat and saying “Errr, ahhh-Hrrrmprmmmph... ARE YOU GOING TO STOP IT, OR CAN I WATCH?”

We both looked up at the man that was talking to us, standing a few feet away and looking at us. I was just about to rise up from Spike’s lap, but he looked into my eyes.

“No,no, nonononono!” I said. Uh-uh!

“Fuck, yeah!” he said.

And in that very second, I made up my mind, and said, “To hell with it! Yeah, fine!” And I resumed riding Spike, knowing that our Peeping Tom was standing right there, intently watching us fucking each other’s brains out.

When I felt my whole body start shaking, and my inner muscles started clamping down tighter around Spike’s cock, he grabbed my hips with both hands, and he increased our speed; and he was fucking me like a machine. I felt like my whole body was exploding, my pussy was throbbing, and I saw stars. In the middle of the best orgasm I've ever had, I totally lost control, and I bit down hard on Spike’s neck with my full strength. I heard him growling, and felt him shooting his cum into me. As I came down from the height of my climax, I looked down at him saw his face just shifting back to his human visage.

We both looked in the direction of our voyeur; and as we looked at him, he turned around and ran away. We both burst out laughing.

“I guess he will never play Peeping Tom again, luv. Seeing me vamping out must have been quite a shock for the bloke.” Spike chuckled softly, touching his forehead to mine.

“I feel sorry for the poor guy. We ruined his sexual fantasy.” I giggled. “And wow, that had to be the best mind-blowing ride of my entire life.”

“Always glad to be at your service, my lady. Hey, pet, you wanna go back to my crypt?” And at that, he winked at me.

“You must be fucking kidding me, Spike! I could barely walk right now. And I am sure you won't be able to perform so well for a few hours yet.”

“Now, now, Slayer... you forget about vampire stamina, and slayer strength.”

“Aaaah, how could I say no to something like that? Get me the hell out of here, now!.” And he did.


Chapter End Notes:
even more smut to come...



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