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Author's Chapter Notes:
This chapter is dedicated to Dominique who offered this info up for the contest:

CONTEST:
Spike: human male, young
Occupation: biker
Buffy: human female
Occupation: FBI Agent
Relationship: sexual

I took a little leeway here and opted to turn this information into a two 'parter' because I wanted to create a background story for this awesome duo, I can only hope Dominique doesn't mind. The relationship is supposed to already be sexual, which it is when Buffy finds herself in this dimension but I really wanted to give the readers a teeny glimpse into how it became sexual in the first place.
Buffy stifled a scream when she realized she wasn’t on the couch with Mike anymore, or in a nice comfy bed like she wanted to be. Oh no, Buffy just happened to be on a motorcycle careening through traffic like a wild woman. She took one deep breath and let her Slayer survival instincts come to the forefront – this side of her was much less panicky and a lot more ‘growly’.

The blood pumped through Buffy’s veins as if it were lava, she was burning up inside. She had to get to him before they did, there was no question they would kill him.

She had met the rough looking kid – and she wouldn’t lie to herself, he was a kid at only 18 years old – eight and a half months ago when she was given the task of infiltrating the notorious drug pushing biker gang called the ‘Bloods’.

Buffy was 27 years old but passed easily for 23 giving her that young looking edge that had guaranteed the FBI her successful entry.

Buffy bit her lip and twisted her head to take a three second look into the tinted window of a car she was passing. She couldn’t see her face but at least she still had a well toned and slim body that she had to admit looked pretty amazing in the red leather pants and jacket she was wearing – obviously meant to protect against a fall and entice. She tried not to be vain, she really did, but knowing that she was 7 years older in this dimension and a cradle robber left her seeking whatever form of security she could.

She let her own mind take a step back and let Buffy 2 drive the bike while more and more memories assailed her.

Getting into the Bloods had been easy with the FBI forging false documentation for her. His name was Catch here and she smiled at the irony of such a good looking man being called that. She realized she didn’t know his real name, but then he only knew her as Anne.

She had met him 3 weeks into her assignment and it had been lust at first sight. He was sick though, worn out from years of drug abuse and violence. The first night they’d been left alone she had taken him back to her small apartment in the East side and he’d spent the night throwing up heavily.

She had called up Ben – the man in charge of the drug ring – and quickly gotten into a heated argument with him, explaining that if Catch was going to be a part of her team along with a man named Lindsay and a woman named Eve then he had to get clean. There was no way they could move anything across the border – any border – with a guy whose looks screamed ‘junkie’, she needed anonymity in her group look wise, and Catch didn’t cut it. They had a job to do in 6 months time that would require clear minds and healthy bodies.

Ben had uttered six words before hanging up the phone, ‘Get him clean, do it right’.

And she had. It had taken nearly two weeks straight to get him to the point where he could eat or drink anything without heaving for hours into the toilet but he got there. His skin, still pale, had taken on a less pallid tone and his mischievous blue eyes seemed to take on a sparkle she hadn’t known existed. It had been difficult to keep in touch with her superior, Lorne, but she’d managed to whenever she left to pick up groceries for her and the ‘Kid, as she’d taken to calling him in her thoughts.

She was sleeping on the cot, the keys to the locks she’d put on the doors to make sure he couldn’t leave deep in her pocket, when she was shaken gently awake.

“Anne, wake up, I made supper” Catch whispered.

She had cracked open an eye and murmured something incoherent and he had laughed at her, it was the first time she’d heard the sound and it pulled at something deep inside, something she’d been trained to ignore in the line of duty – her heart.

She followed him to the small kitchen two-seater table groggily, eyes snapping wide open when she saw the delicious meal he had prepared. Steak and green and yellows string beans covered with a rich looking pepper and mushroom gravy, some French bread cut into small slices on a plate and a pitcher on water with some lemon and lime wedges floating in it.

“This looks incredible Catch; I didn’t know you could cook.”

“I haven’t in years” he admitted and pulled out her chair from her before taking his seat on the other side. “But then I think there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“So tell me” she said lightly while taking her first bite and moaning in delight and the delicious melee of taste her mouth was assaulted with. He smiled proudly and dug into his own plate.

“I haven’t been clean in three years” he blurted out, “and I haven’t cooked since my mom died.”

“I’m sorry for your loss” she said sincerely and he gave her a rueful smile.

“At least she didn’t have to see me like this.”

Buffy nodded, her own mother had passed away years ago too, and well she had never gone down a drug riddled path she knew her mother wouldn’t want to see her dangerous lifestyle.

“I don’t know Catch; you’re looking good, healthy even. I think most mothers would be proud that you cleaned yourself up.”

“But I didn’t have a choice, did I? You did this for me, and I wish you knew how much it means.”

She smiled, “That’s what friends are for Catch.”

“Is that what we are, friends?”

“If we’re not, then that’s where I’d like us to get.”

“I don’t generally make friends with agents” came the soft response, and her fork clattered to the floor, the sound a million times louder to her ears than it was in reality.

He’d said it so conversationally that she didn’t know what was coming next, perhaps he would ask her to pass the bread.

“I’m not going to hurt you Anne.”

Still, no words came from her mouth, her mind a flurry of scenarios. If he attacked her, she’d have to protect herself – would probably have to take him out. If he got away and told someone she’d have to go into hiding and the take-down of the drug cartel would never happen. She didn’t have a phone in her apartment and she’d thrown his away to keep him from trying to get someone to get him out of the apartment while he’d detoxified, and her own cell was always password protected so he hadn’t been able to use it. In the very least, she knew for the moment he was the only one who knew.

“Anne?”

She snapped herself back to reality, “I don’t know what you’re talking about Catch.”

He shook his head and sighed, “No one gets into the middle of a drug cartel and decides to start cleaning up its members; no one has such perfectly bad records unless they’re trying to prove something, and no one, and I really mean no one in this kind of, industry for lack of a better word, texts in Latin.”

“How did you hack my phone?” She was shaking now, her world falling down around her while he called her out.

“It wasn’t hard, it took me a few tries before I got it, but come on Anne, ‘promqueen’? Anyone could have figured it out.” He noticed she was about to bolt, “I’m not going to hurt you, and I never made a call.”

“And I should believe you why?”

“Because 15 men haven’t broken down your door and ripped you the fuck apart.”

She nodded, “Okay then, why?”
“Because for the first time in three years, someone cared. I don’t hurt people who’ve put themselves on the line with Ben to help me.”

He took another bite of his steak; hers long forgotten until he looked her in the eyes, “Eat.”. And she did.

When both their plates were empty she stood up on shaking legs, and brought their dishes to the sink. She didn’t feel safe here anymore, but she couldn’t risk leaving him alone. For the first time in years she felt out of control.

She stiffened but didn’t scream when two strong young hands grabbed the sides of her face from behind and whirled her around.

Her heart sped up and she prepared her body for a fight.

His blue eyes bore into hers, “I’m not going to hurt you” he whispered gruffly before his lips smashed down against hers.

The fight never came.


Chapter End Notes:
A heartfelt thank you to Dominique for taking the time to offer up this fun-filled suggestion and for letting me put it into words!

Dominique's second chapter will be posted by Friday at the latest.



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