The music blared, causing her spinning head to pound. Why did she have to have that last drink? Why did she have to have any of those drinks? Because you're an impressionably young teenager that gives into peer pressure.

"Buffy, you don't look so good." her red-headed friend stated the obvious. Her tone was very concerning so Buffy didn't roll her eyes.

"Alcohol and me, very un-mixy." she started to sway but, luckily, Xander was there to steady her.

Xander was her other best friend; it was a three way best friendship. She met them when she moved to Sunnydale from Los Angeles. Her mother got an opportunity to own an art gallery so she packed them up and moved her away from all of her friends...but that's another story.

She rested her head on his shoulder. "Buffster not feeling well?"

"I'll be fine. Just going to head out now." Not wanting to ruin the fun time her friends were having, she took a deep breath and pretended to be more sober than she really was. "I'm good to walk myself home."

Willow started to object. "---Wills, I'm good," she forced herself to do a twirl of joy. But what she really wanted to do was vomit. "See? All good."

"If you say you're alright." Willow wrapped her arms around her and hugged her tight.

"Yeah, Buff. Be careful. Maybe not so much drinking the next Bronzing?" Xander joined in on the hug. Both hugging too tight. Didn't they know she was drunk and sick? Oh right, you're pretending to be sober. Is it too late to get a ride home?

After the goodbye's she forced her way through the sea of sweaty and smelly bodies. When she made it to the exit and the crisp night air touched her face and filled her nostrils, she felt better. She only lived a few blocks away from the Bronze. She had been walked two of the blocks when a feeling of terror filled her. She could feel someone following her. Her pace picked up, she only needed to make it a couple more minutes and she'd be home. Buffy thought she had been walking faster, in her mind she was practically running. But the person behind her was now standing infront of her; he was only a couple paces away. His leather cladded arm stretched out to stop her, his cold had could be felt through her thin blouse.

"Hello, Cutie." his tongue came out to lick his lips and his eyes stared at her neck. "Shouldn't be walkin' around so late. Lots of nasties out at this time." his hand continued to rest on her chest a few moments more until her dropped it to his side.

"I-I'm almost home." her fear caused her to stutter. "Just a few more minutes and I'll be home." the teenagers attempt to brush passed him was immediatly squashed.

"A few minutes too late, luv. Tonight is not your lucky night. But it is mine." a grin plasted his face as his head tilted. The dim light of the street lamp he was standing under did nothing to make that look seem less frightening. "So there's that."

"How is it your lucky day?" her words were high pitched. At least she wasn't stuttering.

That cold hand came back, this time on her face. It was surprisingly gentle at first but quickly became hurtful as he grabbed her hair and pulled it back. A gasp of pain escaped her mouth. And he took a deep breath in that moment.

"I found myself dinner and a pet." his facial features changed; they became rough and ridged. His face flung to her neck and all she saw was bleached hair-after that, darkness.

**
He watched her sleep. Technically, he watched her passed out from blood loss. She was so lovely and fragile. Spike couldn't wait to break her. His jeans were tight as his cock strained against them. The urge to tear that skirt off of her and force his way inside of her as she slept was strong. But he pushed it down when she started to stir. Her moans of pain and confusion made his member throb with want. The taste of her blood lingured on his tongue and throat still.

Her eyes hadn't opened and her moans of pain stopped when she moved around the bed. The softness of the bed linens must have gaven her the impression she was safe in her own bed.

"Wakey, wakey, little pet." Spike chuckled as her look of content turned to dread and her eyes shot open. "Did my little pet sleep well?"
Her back hit the headboard with a thud she moved so quickly and her knees rested under her chin as she hugged herself. It was a position the vampire had seen so many times. His victims were stupid enough to think that it would keep them safe.

"Please, let-let me go. I won't tell anybody." her lack of tears dissapointed him.
"I'm not letting you go so soon. We've only just begun." His body moved towards her with grace; like a predator would to its prey. She started to turn away in an attempt to get off the bed. Spike was on her in an instant. His body now replaced her legs in closeness. "You're not going anywhere. You're my pet now. Mine to feed on and mine to fuck." his pelvis thrusted into hers. A satisfied grin became of his features after her gasp of pleasure.

"I don't want that." she gave a pathetic attempt of swatting him away. "I want to go home!" her tears had finally started. It always gave him pleasure to watch them cry. An unsuspecting punch was thrown at him, her long nails cut his face.

The sound of bones crushing and then mending was heard. His golden eyes stared into her green ones. "I'm a bad, rude man for not making myself clear. You. Are. Mine. You do not hit me," his open palm flung to her face. Her head swayed the side and her blonde hair covered her features. "I hit you." Spike took pity on her and brushed her hair away and lifted her chin. "But only when you're bad, baby. If you're good and you please me, you'll recieve pleasure. Do you wanna be good?"

She submitted with a nod.

He rewarded her with a rough kiss to the mouth as his hand traveled to the hem of her skirt.