“I’m sure Rupert’s told you all about him, pet. Why do you need me to blow the cover on all the family secrets?”
Buffy stood in the dark outside Giles’s door and watched him. Spike. The peroxided vamp that she had been told would be relentless until he managed to tear out her throat. Spike. Whose first contact with her was to stab her with his tongue. His hot, wet, spine-tingling kiss-giving tongue.
There was an energy that surrounded this vamp like no other she’d ever come across. It was the strangest thing. Every night Buffy would go out to slay—to do her duty as the only one in all the world—beating up and dusting vampires. Growly, sharp-toothed vampires who more often than not, stupidly impaled themselves on her stake during their headlong rush to pierce her throat with their fangs.
They seemed so different, like vicious animals, no longer people with personalities and hope, just blood-thirsty monsters that would rather kill you than befriendor begirlfriendyou. The Spike she had met in the alleyway behind the Bronze was all full of swagger and overconfident expectation. The vamp that she had finally met up with in the halls of her school was completely different. This one didn’t shake with his desire for her blood, with the desire to see it flow out of her and stubbing out her life.
Okay, thought Buffy. No more with the uber weird split-personality vamp. I want answers. And so she had sought them. But after dragging Spike out of Giles’s front door, still clutching his cooling mug of blood and sans duster, her eyes focused lustily on his bare forearms and the curve of his neck above the black neckline of his T-shirt. And faced with such a sight, what hormonal teenage girl wouldn’t completely lose track of where she was and completely screw up the topic of the day?
Angelus! Really, who wanted to know about him when there was a nice, packed form of salty goodness for the disrobing standing right in front of her? But now Buffy was stuck, she had to go on with the quiz or risk making herself look like the idiot she actually was.
So she tipped her head to the side, hands resting on her hips, and threw it out there. And what exactly did she want to know about Angel anyway? She knew he walked, did the mysterious appear and disappear routine, was helpful on occasion and brooded a lot. Oh, and he kind of kissed her occasionally, too.
“I don’t get it,” she spoke finally in answer to his question, giggling when his brow furrowed in confusion.
“Get what, pet?” Spike watched her, feeling amazing relief when she relaxed her ‘I mean business’ stance and smiled.
“I mean you. And Angel. And this happiness curse thing. You being nice to me. Are you sure you don’t have a soul?”
“Hell no,” was Spike’s fiery retort. He snorted loudly just at the thought of allowing himself to be tamed like the poofter, until his recent feelings and protective behaviours came to his mind, and he suddenly fell silent.
“What does having a soul mean, anyway? Fair enough, maybe vampires can’t choose to do good straight off the bat. Maybe they need a time out to consider their existence and a nice shiny girl to come along and tempt them onto other paths,” he mused to himself aloud. Remembering the chance the chip gave him to infiltrate Buffy’s little group, getting to know humans on an intimate level, become their friends. Spike knew that without the chip, he probably would never have had the chance to slow his vendetta against Buffy, not stopping till either or both of them were destroyed.
“Am I the nice, shiny girl?” Buffy asked breathlessly, shooting thoughts and reactions straight to his crotch hidden by denim.
He couldn’t help but let his gaze stick on her, watch the play of interest yet fear temper the storm of green in her eyes. His gut began to clench, his skin tightened and his hand raised to cup her cheek. Almost in a dream, he placed his other hand behind her head and pulled her to within a whisper of his mouth. His cool breath fanned her lips and he almost lost it at her tiny little mewl-like pleas. His body rumbled in gravelly desire as he gently rubbed his bottom lip against hers, allowing them to clash gently as he spoke.
“Baby, you are so much more than that.” And then he surrendered to the drug of her mouth; the narcotic that he wanted to stay addicted to for life. He supped on her sweetness and nearly cried at how innocent and giving she was. So not like his Buffy that it both made him rejoice yet made his heart hurt. Her questing tongue knocked against his and he couldn’t help but moan his delight that she was looking for him, wanting to join with him in such an intimate, meaningful way.
As his lips swept against hers he felt the increasing thump of her heart, could feel the heat of her skin as it came closer and closer to him. Little bursts of liquid fire charged through his body and he became warm, relaxed and so very eager to taste every inch of her bared skin. To let his tongue slide over the smooth texture of her thighs. She was still so young but the yearning was getting out of control, he had no idea how he could slow the pace of their knowing one another.
He felt the subtle jerking of her oxygen deprived body and almost decided to ignore it, wanting to kiss her forever, or at least until the red of tomorrow’s sunset shadowed their moment. But he released her, taking her back before she could suck in any air for one final hard kiss. As she shuddered with the effort of replenishing her lungs, he buried his face in her neck, allowing her beautiful soft hair to give him cover. He pressed his hot mouth to her throat, mumbling and moaning against her skin.
“I need you so bad, baby.” And his body shook with the effort of control, sagging back against the wall of Giles’s flat when her little hand sought contact with his skin under the tight tee he was wearing, his knees almost failing to keep him upright. It was all going so fast, feeling so out of control that he hauled her body against his, took her hand and thrust it against his livid jean-covered cock.
“Buffy, if we don’t stop now, I won’t be able to.”
He removed the pressure of his hand holding her against him, yet hers remained and instead moulded to his shape.
Her eyes were wide with awe and fascination as she raised them to look at him. The roaring of her blood was deafening him as it raced in lustful excitement around her body and he groaned when her tiny hand squeezed him lightly.
“B-Before we stop,” she husked at him with the sexiest voice he had ever heard pass her lips. “ Can I…” she lowered her eyes, too shy to finish her desire.
“Can you what, pet?” prompted Spike, almost crippled with hope.
“Can I touch you? I want to feel you in my hand.” Her lips were curved in a forceful, determined smile as she suggested to him what it would mean to be unrestrained in her flesh.
Some mammoth lump of burning heat settled in his gut and he nearly howled like an animal. The amber of his eyes was her answer and she began to pop the studs of his jeans, her passion-drugged eyes partially covered by lust heavy lidsnever leaving his. They flickered between blue and yellow as her hand delved beneath the fabric and finally, she made contact. He could feel the complete vacuum of air, his skin splintering in sensation as her smooth warm hand slid slowly, steadily over his cool cock.
He couldn’t help but look down, and her attention followed as he saw his cock in her tanned hand, the little fingers clenched around his pretty reasonable girth. His silken length elongated as she slowly rubbed her palm back and forth and he could already feel the rush through his prick, just from the visual enticement of her.
Her hand suddenly took up a rhythm, becoming faster and it was beyond his control. With a little shout too late for warning his cum spurted from the slit of his cock and fountained over the cup of her hand.
“Oh,” she said innocently, eyes as wide as any newly initiated woman to the arts of sex could be.
“I’m sorry, love. You took me a bit by surprise.” He actually felt a bit embarrassed with his deflating member resting in her milky cum-coated palms.
The expression in her eyes made him feel suddenly breathless, no mean feat for someone lacking the need to breathe, and suddenly she was on her knees, her tongue tentatively tasting the cream on the tip of his length.
“Oh God, Buffy.”
Before he knew what she was doing he was encased in her mouth, widening and lengthening to an almost crippling hardness. His guts clenched, his bum cheeks contracted and his balls drew up in tension. A few slides up and down and a demon-loving hard suck and he visited bliss again, her young inexperienced mouth overflowing with his milk as she struggled to swallow. As his cum glided down her throat, Spike grabbed her under the arms and hauled her to standing, his mouth latching onto the dribbles with a possessive release of control. As his tongue made it to the end of her exposed flesh, he bayed in frustration, the animal in him wanting to tear the top she wore clean down the middle and claim her nipples in hard punishing sucks.
But he stopped.
Pulling away and struggling hard for some kind of composure, he gasped and heaved like a marathon runner.
“Holy fuck, woman. Are you trying to kill me?” he asked when he finally remembered how to speak words.
She giggled, watching him with a deep satisfied happiness he couldn’t ever remember his Buffy displaying.
“You’re already dead,” she deadpanned and he groaned again.
“You make me that hot again, pet and I’m sure I’ll dust.”
Her eyes took on a gleam of seductive woman, years beyond the true age of the Slayer.
“We just might have to experiment to see how hot you can get before you start to singe.” And her mouth attacked his again.
It wasn’t until he felt the distinct cold and sticky patch of fabric at his shoulders that he realised Buffy had inadvertently just wiped the cum on her hands all over his shirt.
He pulled away and watched the vacancy in her eyes, completely passion induced, and smiled.
“How ‘bout we go on inside and wash up? Then p’raps go for a stroll and I can tell you all you want to know about Angelus.”
She still appeared dazed as her eyes followed his movements, tucking his cock back into his jeans, refastening the opening and pulling his shirt over his head. He puffed up with pride and flexed his pectorals as her eyes became glued to his skin.
“Love? Ready to head in?”
Buffy responded with a confused nod and followed him through the door.
“Ah, there you are. Spike, Buffy, whatever happened?” asked Giles while pointing to Buffy’s sticky outstretched hands and Spike’s bare chest.
“Oh, demon. Nasty bugger sprooked all over my best tee. Slayer got a bit on her hands. Thought we’d go patrol after we clean up a bit and have us a little chat. Slayer wants to know a few details about Angelus.”
“Buffy?” Giles asked in mounting concern. “W-we’ve discussed Angelus before. Why do you want to know more?”
Buffy’s eyes swung to look at the worry etched on her Watcher’s brow, and then back to her hands. She held them cupped in front of her and she could see patches of the milky substance that had come from inside Spike. She felt a grin of guilty achievement form and subconsciously licked her lips.
“Just covering all the bases. Books don’t tell everything, Giles.” And she left for the bathroom, hoping to see a little more of Spike’s sculpted flesh, but this time way in the up close and personal kind of way. Outside had been way too dark and she was still a little blurred from the lustiness that had taken her over.
He was there, cleaning up his messy cock with a damp cloth while she leaned against the closed bathroom door and soaking up his lecherous glances. Buffy felt no lingering bouts of confusion, just a hot burning confidence to discover herself and Spike with the prolonged use of tongues, lips and hands. Preferably in a nice comfy bed.
“Need any help?” left his cock springing back to attention at her husky suggestiveness, and he hissed at her.
“Stop it, Buffy, or I’m gonna lose it and fuck you against your Watcher’s bathroom door. And that is not where a little girl like you should discover the joys of love for the first time.”
Buffy flushed a glowing red but couldn’t tear her shimmering gaze away from him. Her focus was his face; all clean lines and devoted soft pink lips beckoning promises of love. Something stroked her heart, something soft and subtle, and her breath hitched.
“A moment of true happiness?” escaped her lips on a wave of wanting, dissipating around the two, and Spike sucked in his first berating response. Not wanting his knowledge of Angelus to intrude on this swift expectation of fulfillment.
Finally tucking his cleaned member away, he stepped forward and allowed his finger to softly trace her lower lip, the deepest ocean of his shining eyes softening in true genuine love.
“With us, Buffy, I could always be perfect happiness.”
His words made time with the perfect rhythm of her heart, and he couldn’t believe where he now stood. In the bathroom he’d been chained up in, with the woman he was to fall in love with years from now.
He should be so different. He should have disappeared into the past, grabbed Dru and hightailed it out of the hellmouth while remaining chipless and never to return. But such was her power that that option had never even occurred to him. In his time Buffy might have kicked him to the wolves, but here he could prevent her decline, prevent the walls cementing around her heart by keeping her away from Angel and his unreliable soul.
“But you’re soulless,” she whispered, barely loud enough for even him to hear her. This time he didn’t take it as an insult, rather just an uninformed assumption he would be sure to break.
“Sometimes love is beyond a soul.” And he kissed her eyelids closed, his fingers skimming the flesh of her neck and he finally ended by nibbling at her bottom lip.
“We should go get some air.” His voice was like a slap after being so thoroughly immersed in such deep, drowning sensation. Buffy grabbed his hand, an attempt to ground herself to the earth and couldn’t stop herself for spilling little mutterings of truth.
“I could drown in you,” she told him and it stopped him in his tracks. The sudden banked fire in his eyes scorched her right through as he leaned back in, sucking hard on her neck as he crushed her body against his own. There was moisture on the edge of his lashes when at last he pulled away from her and he kissed her thoroughly.
“Thank you.”
And he pulled her hand, tugging her away from the door so he could open it.
“You wash your hands while I go find a top,” he strongly suggested, and Buffy found herself alone, staring into a mirror that revealed nothing of the wanton behaviour she had indulged in tonight.
She could still feel his weight in her hands, feel the silkiness as the thin, pale skin stretched and tautened over the thickening of his penis. And her effect on him.
It was all so different, so hot and out of control. So different to her times with Angel. Nothing ever got out of control with him. Angel wouldn’t allow it. All they had done was kiss, despite Buffy hungering to know more, to feel more. After dying at the fangs of the Master, she had come to realise that her life was destined to be short. Why die completely innocent of things that could give her some small amount of happiness?
Again, Spike with the surprising her. Making her head spin out of control with the possibilities, with the contradictions. And this walk he wanted to go on? Crap, she’d had his penis in her mouth and he wanted to go and talk about Angelus? What was up with his priorities?
Which brought back a rather ewww, yet, yumm thought to her. She had Spike in her mouth. A boy’s penis. No, a man’s penis. NO! A vampires penis. A vampire who talked of affection and promised more than just a quick bang with the Slayer. She was way passed wondering about taking a risk with Spike. A little of the sucking of his…ah…thing might have made that a bit of a given. And she felt kind of all right with that. Pretty good with it, actually.
But what about Angel? Buffy had thought she was falling in love with Angel, but maybe she had just been really taken in with the suave mysteriousness of his appearance now and then. She felt pretty sure that the soulful vampire thought he was in love with her, and that left Buffy with a world of guilt.
Oh boy, was it her fault she found the blond, nicely compact vampire perfect for her? He fit her in so many ways, and not just in her mouth. Buffy couldn’t help but burst into a bout of girly giggles and tried to picture Willow’s face if she decided to relay this little episode. Her first foray into grown-up activities.
Buffy could feel the tingle in the back of her neck indicating that Spike must be waiting for her just outside the door and she quickly used the soap to rid him from her hands, dried them and bounced through the door to meet up with him again for the walk.
“Could you perhaps describe the demon that attacked you before you go, Buffy?”
“Ah,” Buffy stood like a deer caught in high beam, and wavered between blurting out anything and making a break for the door.
“One of those grey, non-descript looking things. No harm from it, Rupes, no worries. Now, let’s go, Slayer. Sunrise waits for no vamp.”
He disappeared from before her with a sharp swish of his coat around his boots and was off out the door.
“Bye, Giles,” Buffy tossed over her shoulder as she went running after him.
They walked side-by-side, quiet and accepting as their footsteps clacked on the pavement.
“So, Angelus? Poncey bugger, if ever there was one.” Spike couldn’t have kept the irritation out of his voice if he tried. Just the thought of the brooding brow had him hopping with energy that he was busting to again take out on the git’s jaw.
“What was he like?” Buffy’s voice had regained the strength that passion had robbed from it earlier, and Spike winced, having half convinced himself that his mouth and cock had done the hard yards in altering her focus of conversation for the night.
“Self-righteous, cruel, depraved, adulterous…”
“Adulterous,” she interrupted on a tide of disbelief. “He’s a demon. I hardly expect them to be monogamous.
Spike couldn’t help but look at her with a twist of distaste to the corner of his lip.
“More of your prejudiced learning showing there, pet. I was bloody faithful to Dru for roughly a hundred and twenty odd years.” Spike allowed memories to filter through his mind and he recalled numerous occasions when it was Angelus and himself being cuckolded by their women. Dru and Darla getting it on with the bloody Immortal at the same time. Maybe he was the rare fish in the demon equation?
“Scrap that. Might be just me that sees the value in treasuring your lady.” He kicked unsuspecting tufts of grass in irritation, again picturing the face of his incredibly stupid, ignorant, selfish pig of a sire.
Tinkling laughter in the distance arrested their attention, and as Spike recognised it as Dru’s he set loping off toward it.
“Bloody hell. Stupid poof is meant to be looking after her now.”
But they both came to an abrupt halt at the edge of a park and watched.
Buffy stood next to a silent Spike, noticing his indulgent smile toward the dark-haired nutter that Angel was dutifully pushing on the swings. Both dark vampires appeared to be enjoying themselves; happily trading snippets of odd conversation that Angel apparently had no understanding of. It made Spike laugh.
“Bout time you brushed up on Dru speak, Peaches.”
Flinty dark eyes settled on the slighter built blond vampire, and he jerked his head in a show of dominate temper.
“What are you doing here, Spike? I took her. Like you demanded.”
His eyes turned in surprise to Buffy.
“Buffy? What are you doing with him? You can’t trust him, you know.”
“Sure I can,” she answered carelessly as she stepped forward and began to walk over and meet the playful two.
“Wouldn’t do that if I were you, pet.”
Spike hardly got the words out before Buffy hit the ground from the force of enraged jilted vampire, long hair on both sides getting tangled in the dirt. Dru gained the upper hand and held Buffy down, punching her once and then holding deadly talons at her throat. The vampiress had a loose grip, however, energy fast deserting her. Adrenaline had given her a speed and viciousness that had been lacking in her since the attack in Prague.
“Get off her, Dru.” Spike’s voice was loud in the sudden silence, but he could hear the pumping fear of Buffy’s blood and it made him nauseous. He should have suspected something like this to happen. He’d given Dru no explanation for his defection, though he was afraid she had seen his reason. And now he had the proof, and the thought of the light of his life being drained in an ugly altercation in the park made him shudder in fear.
Spike advanced on the two figures, Buffy deathly still as she felt compelled to stare into the other’s eyes, but the sound of Spike’s voice seemed to shatter something and she blinked, coming back to herself and shoving at the brunette holding her flat on her back on the ground.
“Get off me, you crazy bitch,” Buffy shouted as she gave Spike’s better be ex a good solid shove.
Spike caught her weakened frame, then carelessly thrust her away from him, anger and violence etched in the glare of his eye and the twist of his lip. For a moment Buffy thought him caught in the female vamp’s eyes, just like she had been, but she could also see the struggle going on by the way his hands flexed into fists. With one almighty growl, he hauled back and punched Drusilla in the mouth, sending her flying across the park and into the arms of the brooding vampire. She cowered in her sire’s arms, all fight depleted, leaving her limp and ill.
“What the bleeding fuck was that, Dru?” Outrage gave Spike volume, and his hands windmilled as he paced in agitation. “You go near her again and I’ll tear your head off your bleeding shoulders. Have you got that?”
Buffy couldn’t tear her eyes from the violent fury of him, the fierce beauty of her protector, her defender, and her eyes narrowed on one who supposedly had been that to her only days before.
“She smells like the sun, my Spike. All pretty and innocent, but not for long. Happiness is a curse, my sweet.” And the crazy vamp girlishly cupped her hand over her mouth and laughed, leaving the onlookers to try and interpret her ravings as best they could.
Once Angel had settled her against his chest, his own stance reeked of leashed fury as he glared at his childe.
“Don’t you ever lift a hand to her again or I’ll...”
“Oh that does it.” Buffy stood mad, legs apart and hands on hips. “You,” she said pointing a finger at Angel, “just did the big zilcho in making sure that the Queen of the Damned there didn’t just slit my throat. And now, you’re threatening Spike because he defended me? Tried to protect me? The freak feature of the week rolls into town and all of a sudden you’re not on the side of good anymore? Well, could have told me.” She tapped her foot, masking feelings of insecurity as she stared down the vampire she thought was the love of her life. It was feeling like quite a wrench that he might not be. Even though she’d opted for experimentation elsewhere, her dreams were difficult to let go of.
Looking over her shoulder she could see Spike in a serious staring contest with the other two vamps, and Buffy decided that her night would be more than complete without whatever dusty occasion might result from the brewing showdown.
“Know what? You take care of Elvira, and Spike and I will go patrolling. Just,” and she raised her pleading eyes to Angel’s, uncertain green clashing with confused brown, “keep her away from me.”
Buffy turned on her heel, seizing Spike’s hand as she went past him and dragged him along behind her.
Once they had gone, Angel turned to Dru and held out his hand to her. “What was that all about, Dru?”
She peered at him with eyes glittering with knowledge.
“My Daddy is all closed in and angry. The little girl is the Key to all mysteries, my Angel. I only needed to smell her, and see her.”
Angel shook his head, wondering why he even asked. They left the park with him none the wiser about Dru’s motives and even less clear about what was going on with him and Buffy. He hadn’t had a chance to tell her about the new way of things, knowing he had probably done the wrong thing in concealing Dru from her.
And now she seemed to be getting chummy with Spike.
Angel clenched his jaw in a sudden understanding. Spike was after something, and had to go through Buffy to get it. Knowing Spike, it was probably revenge at Angel himself for leaving the family behind when he was first cursed.
The puzzles seemed too complex for him to unravel tonight and he led Drusilla to her new home. His home. With a deep, put upon sigh.
A/N...would love to keep up with what you are all thinking!! If you read this, consider reviewing. It makes a writer very happy and a happy writer..........