I haven’t updated in awhile, but I haven’t stopped writing. In fact, I’ve been writing more than ever (and yes, it’s Spuffy, what else is there really?). I’ve been writing smaller stories for my friends on livejournal -- look it up, http://www.livejournal.com/users/facingthesun/ -- as Christmas presents. There aren’t all done, but I’m going to share them with you now as they are completed.

Thank you for reading. I hope to start working on my WIPs soon. (I don’t know about you, but I miss them).

Happy New Year!

--Jennifer (facingthesun)

(note: not all stories are R/NC17, to see all of them, go to my livejournal or the Spuffy Realm -- http://www.spikeluver.com/SpuffyRealm/index.php -- )

Title: Wants and Needs
Pairing: Season 2 Spike/Buffy
Rating: NC17
Summary: Part I takes place after Passion, Part II takes place at the beginning of I Only Have Eyes for You, and Part III takes place somewhere during Becoming Parts I & II.
Disclaimers: Dialogue borrowed from I Only Have Eyes for You and the Becoming episodes. I own nothing. Thank you to Joss for letting me play without being sued.
Gift for: reciprocity_, who wanted cannon, w/ bite/claim & NC17
Beta’d: yes
Finished: yes

Part I

“You’re late.”

“Nice to see you too. But on second thought, maybe not. You look like you’ve been run over by a semi, Slayer.”

“Keep your voice down.”

“Oh, don’t tell me that your mummy’s home. You couldn’t give her the boot for one night?”

“She wouldn’t leave because she’s worried about me.”

“I see,” Spike said, looking her up and down. Buffy’s face was flushed and her hair was messy. Two blankets were wrapped tightly around her body and he could still hear the chatter of her teeth. “You’re weak, how are you going to get me upstairs?”

“We’ll be in the guest room. Since you’re late we won’t have much time before mom wakes up.”

“She an early riser, or do you want to cuddle after we do the nasty?”

“Spike…just don’t,” Buffy replied, sounding exhausted. “We’re sticking to the plan. We do it, you bite, and then you go. Not a word of this is told to anyone. It dies with us.”

“You know, you’re no fun when you’re on your death bed.”

“If we keep talking, I’ll just be dead.”

“How long do you have?”

“Do you really care?”

“Not really, just wondering how long I should stall if you don’t perk up. You’re currently about as exciting as a box of rocks.”

“You aren’t here so I can give you a good time,” Buffy said, propping herself against the wall and closing her eyes.

“Dizzy, pet?” Spike laughed. “You gonna blow? Should I duck?”

“Let’s get this over with.”
***

Spike scanned the room as Buffy took all the pillows off the queen-sized bed. His eyes narrowed once he noticed the pile of stakes and bottles of holy water on the nightstand.

“I know what you’re thinking, but I’ll keep my word.”

“That doesn’t mean that an hour later that you won’t come gunning for me.”

“You intend on doing the same to me, don’t you?”

Smirking in response, Spike pulled his t-shirt over his head. “Aren’t you gonna turn down the bed?”

“No.”

“We fucking in my chair?”

“Spike.”

“What? It’s a valid question.”

“You just watched me take away the pillows. Why would I do that if I wanted to do it in your wheelchair?”

“How will you be able to get me in bed? You’re gathering a sweat just by forcing yourself to stand up straight.”

“I…you have a point.”

“Of course I do, so get naked, Slayer and let’s get on with it.” He started to tug at the zipper of his pants, but the sound of a discreet sniffle caught him off guard. “What? Bloody hell, you’re going to cry about it now?”

“No.”

“Yes! You’ve got crocodile tears rolling down your cheeks! Your chin is trembling! You blubbering was not part of the plan!”

“I can’t help it. I can’t do this,” Buffy hiccupped between sobs. “I can’t have sex with you. I hate you so much. It’d be humiliating and-and I’m not even sure that I want to live that much anyway.”

“Oh, come on, suck it up! Of course you want to live! You’ve got your whole life ahead of you—an entire life of slaying baddies and, uh...”

“You just don’t want me to die, so you can drain me. You want to heal your legs.”

“Well, yeah.” Spike reached for the Kleenex box that was in the room and he chucked it towards Buffy’s feet. “Do you think that this is some tea party for me? I’m already a laughingstock because of my sodding wheelchair. Add me bedding a Slayer and not killing her afterward into the mix … Have you listened in on the things that your ex honey says about me? I mean, when he’s not balling my Dru--.”

“Angel and Drusilla?”

“Angelus and Drusilla. Why do you think that I want my legs back so much?”

“I just thought--.”

“Well, think about this,” he said, rolling closer and handing her a tissue. “Think about all the birds we’ll kill with this one stone. You’ll be healed, I’ll get healed and as an extra bonus, I’ll help you kill Angel—no, I’ll kill him for you.”

“You’d really do that?”

“The bastard’s been begging for it ever since the day you took his soul. Don’t you want him to die since he killed your Watcher’s lady friend?”

“I didn’t take his soul--.”

“Whatever, baby. Now, why can’t we just suck up our differences and have a good shag? Hell, I’ll even promise to treat you right.”

“Like that’s even possible.”

“I’ll be gentle.”

“Your legs are broken, how rough could it really be?”

“Are you giving me a challenge?” Spike asked with a cocky grin. “Come on, agree to it. You have to. You don’t have much time left. You need me. I’m offering an olive branch here. Decline my offer and you’ll have to find some other creature of the night to sleep with in the next—what are you down to? Two-three hours? Then, how’s our fragile little Slayer going to tackle a big nasty? Shouldn’t she just take advantage of the legless vamp that she has already half naked and locked in her guest room?”

“I still hate you. After tonight, I’ll give you an hour heads up to run—wheel—away before I kill you.”

“Not if I kill you first, sweetheart.”

“I hate you,” Buffy said, putting an emphasis on each syllable. “If you tell anyone I will stake you.”

“I’ll never tell. Cross my unbeating heart. I swear on my own grave.”

“Fine. Just…close your eyes while I undress.”
***

“Will it hurt if I sit on your legs? I mean, do your legs hurt?”

“They’re broken, what do you think?”

“Sorry.”

“Wait, sorry you asked or sorry that you disabled me?” Instead of an answer, Spike heard what he assumed to be the blankets that Buffy was wrapped up in being dropped to the floor. “I doubt that’ll hurt, really. When Dru tried bouncing on me the day after I was pulled from the rubble, now that was painful. I won’t lie, I’m on the sodding road to recovery—yesterday I actually stood for a few seconds—but it still doesn’t make me any more useful. Dru still wants to feed and dress me like one of her dollies.”

“And you really think that my blood has all the answers?”

“As much as you think that vamp semen holds the sure cure for you.”

“What a disgusting, disgusting demon.”

“Yeah and they’re rare too. You should’ve snapped a picture of it. It’s the loch ness of the demon realm. Most don’t even believe that one of those puppies exists.”

“Well, that particular puppy doesn’t exist anymore.”

“Slayer, just how long does it take you to undress? We haven’t got all night.”

“I know,” Buffy answered quietly. “I can’t move that fast. Sudden moments make me woozy. And my hands, they won’t stop shaking.”

Opening one eye, Spike broke his promise to not watch as she stripped off her clothes. “Those are some fucking gaudy pajamas. What the hell do they say? Yummy sushi?”

“Spike!”

“I can’t see anything, you prude. Your pants are on and you’ve only undone the top two buttons on the shirt. At this rate we’ll be here for days. You’ll keel over before you reach the sixth button.”

“What are you doing? Stay back.”

“Sit on the corner of the bed.”

“Why?”

“So you can rest while your buddy pal Spike helps you out. I’m not taking no as an answer. Besides, you’re not well enough to disagree.”

“You are not my buddy or my pal,” Buffy mumbled, doing as he suggested. With her body rigid, she sat in front of his chair. “I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first five times. The feeling’s mutual.” He came as close as possible and instantly started to work on getting off her shirt. “Let’s see what kinda goodies you have hiding under your usual unfashionable attire.”

“Who do you think you are? Cordelia?”

“Who?”

“I don’t see why so many people rag on my clothes.”

“I prefer a simple black, not patterns that include raw fish and chopsticks.”

“They’re pajamas. I don’t wear them in public,” Buffy said, keeping her eyes downcast once her shirt was lying open, exposing her bare stomach and colored bra.

“Stand up. Come closer.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve got to finish what I started.”

“This is so embarrassing,” she whispered. As Spike loosened the drawstrings on her pants, Buffy closed her eyes. When the pants fell to her ankles, she opened her eyes again to watch Spike studying her body.

“You’ve nothing to be embarrassed about. Not one bloody thing. Sit on my lap.”

“You didn’t say, “Simon says.””

“What?”

“You might currently be stronger than me and more…experienced, but you don’t have to boss me around.”

“Yes, I do. I’m evil--.”

“The same evil that promised to treat me right--.”

“Oh, piss off. I’m trying to treat you right.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really,” Spike insisted, reaching for her wrist. “Sit on my lap. Now, Slayer.”
***

Holding onto his hand for extra balance, Buffy put a leg on both sides of Spike’s wheelchair before settling on his thighs.

“There’s a good girl. Aren’t you more comfortable?”

“’No would be an understatement.” Buffy shifted carefully, finding it strange to be in the lap of her enemy while wearing nothing more than her underwear. “The metal on your chair is freezing and then,” she paused thinking twice before explaining how her bare skin felt against the material of his jeans, “uh, let’s just say that I’m not comfortable.”

“Let me change that. Close your eyes.”

“Spike--.”

“Shut it,” Spike said, holding a finger to her mouth. “You need to stop fighting me. I won’t hurt you. Is that what you want to hear? Shut your eyes or don’t, just try to calm down a bit.” Keeping a close eye on her reaction, he wrapped an arm around her back and pinched the clasp on her bra. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

“You’re patronizing me, aren’t you?”

Ignoring her question, he lowered each strap off her shoulders and slowly pulled the bra from her body. “You wear push-ups?”

“What does it look like?”

“Like you don’t need to. When I said earlier that you weren’t perky…” Reaching forward, he cradled her left breast in his hand and raked over the nipple with the pad of his thumb. “Well, isn’t that interesting,” he muttered, a smile curving his lips.

“Interesting? What’s interesting?”

“Oh, you felt it, baby, the need…the desire. The wave of warmth, the brief clench of unseen muscles as that wet spot gathers in your panties.”

Buffy’s eyes widened and before she knew what was happening, Spike crushed her into his chest and forced her into a kiss. Taken by surprise, she awkwardly responded to his invading tongue as hands raided her body. His fingers moved at an unpredictable speed, leaving no inch of her skin seemingly untouched.

“Damn it, don’t make me do all the work here,” he panted, ripping away from their lackluster kiss. “ Kiss me, touch me, moan a little—do something, Slayer. I get that you’re sick, but come on! What’s wrong with you?”

“N-nothing’s wrong with me.”

“Prove it,” he snapped, “because I can’t see why Old Dreary lost his soul in you. There’s nothing passionate about you. You’re like some cold fishwife.”

“I’m not cold.”

“Aw, you gonna pout? Did I hurt your feelings, sunshine? You are cold. You’re also frigid and downright icy.”

“It’s Angel—Angelus, he said--.”

“Kiss me.”

Fueled with anger, Buffy flittered her remaining strength into grabbing Spike and kissing him silent. She tugged on his hair and did her best to keep their lip lock heated by leaving no part of his mouth unexplored.

“Moan for me,” Spike instructed, breaking from her mouth to kiss down her neck. “Make some noises, so I know what you like. Don’t allow your hands to stay idle.” Scooping up her hand, he pressed it between their bodies and onto the crotch of his pants. “Feel that, Buffy, it’s for you. You made me hard so you might as well take advantage, right?”

“I…I don’t think I can,” Buffy admitted with a swallow. “Not now.”

“Alright, grind me then. Put your hands on my shoulders, try it and I’ll help you out.”

“Spike, this is…so—God,” she groaned as he cupped her ass and positioned her so was sitting directly onto his erection. Giving into the pleasure, she started to rub against him, the initial feeling of her damp underwear against the zipper of his jeans causing her to cry out again.

“Now, that’s what I wanted to hear,” he purred, using his arms to quicken her movements.

“Spike, I don’t think we should wait much longer.”

“Why?” he chuckled. “You want to ruin my fun already? Foreplay is very important. Didn’t Angel tell you that?”

“I know. Foreplay…but I feel kinda…”

“Buffy!” Spike yelled, as she drooped in his arms. Knowing that she was barely hanging on from the sound her weak heartbeat, he ripped off her underwear and unzipped his pants. “Stay awake,” he demanded, shaking her limp body. “If you die on me, you bitch, I’ll--.””

“Stop. I’ll puke if you keep shaking me like that. And what’s with the name call—oh,” she gasped. Buffy blinked twice after realizing that she was completely naked and that Spike’s erection was sticking out of his pants. “Uh…I…”

“Use the rails to lift yourself up.”

“Okay.” Knowing that a blush was on her cheeks, Buffy propped her weight up before lowering down and attempting to take all of Spike’s length into her body.

“You sure you aren’t a virgin?” Spike asked, raising a brow. “You’re awfully tight.”

“I’ve only done it once, but then Angel wasn’t so…”

“So what? Continue on, kitten, I’ve got to hear the end of your sentence.”

“No,” Buffy said with a grunt. Satisfied that she was filled to hilt, she started to rock and gyrate her hips.

“Why not?”

“Because I’ve got you inside me. I don’t want to even think of Angel.”

“You brought it up--.”

“Be quiet,” Buffy hissed, taking a hold of his face and interrupting him with a kiss. Too worn-out to pour much energy into the gesture, she tasted him lazily in a tempo that mimicked their slow but steady thrusts. Caught up in the moment, she caressed his cheekbones and allowed her fingers to float down his body. She experimentally touched his flat nipples and took time to admire each and every defined muscle of his torso. As she descended lower, Spike’s grunts of approval grew more frequent, especially when she explored his curling pubic hair and area between his legs.

“I didn’t know you’re not a real blond.”

“Neither are you.”

“I’m not cold either. I’m also not someone who needs to be bossed around when I’m making love.”

“You were trained alright, but there’s always room for improvement.”

“Whatever,” Buffy laughed. “Can we move a little faster?”

“Not feeling the burn?”

“Oh, I am. I really am. I’m officially ablaze.”

“You’re getting better too.”

“You’ve gotta love that precome. Gah, I can’t believe that I said that,” Buffy laughed again, but her laughter transformed into a moan as Spike ground her against him with more force.

“Better, Slayer?”

“Perfect.”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up,” she said, without any bite to her voice. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she held on as he coaxed her towards orgasm. “Will you be biting me soon? Will it hurt?”

“Don’t fight it and it’ll be fine.”

“You promise?” Buffy asked, looking directly into his blue eyes.

“Well…yeah. It’s what we agreed on, right?”

“Right. Of course.”

“Do you think we could stop with the chatting--.”

“And get to the fucking?”

“I think we’ve been doing it all along but--.”

“No more talking,” Buffy whispered stroking his face again. “Just kiss me.”

“You didn’t say please.”

“I’m not going to.”

“You’re a silly girl.”

“What’s that supposed to—oh God,” she whimpered, arching her back as Spike pressed his thumb to her swollen clit. After a few rubs against the tiny mound, her breathing was erratic and she couldn’t keep her body from jerking in pleasure.

“You’ll come first--.”

“I am,” Buffy gasped, squeezing her eyes shut and burying her face into his shoulder.

“Oh, baby, I know you are, but let me finish,” he said. “You come and I’ll follow suit, right? Somewhere in there, I’ll bite.”

“Okay, okay,” she mumbled, peppering his skin with brushes from her lips. “Wait—you mean during?”

“During.” Letting go, he yanked Buffy forward in a smoldering kiss as he was overcome by orgasm. Buffy whined once he pulled back too soon, but quieted as he shifted into his vamp guise. “It won’t hurt…much,” Spike grinned, sweeping her hair away from her neck.

Panic and terror rushed through Buffy’s veins as Spike nuzzled her neck. Being bit only one other time by the Master, she waited for the stinging pain, the ripping of skin, and the sickening sound of her blood being gulped.

Spike crushed her into his chest, but Buffy noticed the lack of force behind their embrace. He whispered words that she couldn’t quite understand before kissing her neck, licking the spot once and sinking his fangs into her skin.
***

“Get off.”

“Huh?”

“You heard me. Get off.”

“But…okay,” Buffy mumbled. Still lightheaded from the bite, she took her head off Spike’s shoulder and stood up, releasing his now throbbing erection from her depths with a groan.

“Can’t you go any faster?”

“Spike, what…did I do something wrong?”

“Oh, cut the dramatics and give me two seconds. I gotta see if it worked.”

“Oh.” Buffy wrapped herself in one of the discarded blankets and sat to watch as Spike placed his feet onto the carpet. “Should I...stand next to you?”

“Stay where you are. Alright, this had better work…” Gripping the rails of the wheelchair, Spike stood up like a shot. “It’s about fucking time!” he laughed, pushing the wheelchair back. He continued to chuckle and babble excitedly as he paced, jumped and kicked at the air. “Oh, Angelus, you’d better beware ‘cause Spike’s back and he feels like a running a bloody marathon!”

“Spike might want to tuck himself back into his jeans before he starts running.”

“Aw, you still hurt that I stopped our second go? Couldn’t get enough, now could you? Okay, sweet Slayer, I’ll tell you what; I can switch around some things in my schedule and stick around for a while.” Sauntering forward, he knelt at Buffy's feet. “I wouldn’t mind giving you a few more pokes, you weren’t as bad in the sack as I expected, besides it’ll work out my legs.”

“Do not touch me. Get out,” Buffy growled, shooting him a deadly glare.

“But, sweetheart,” he laughed.

“Get out! You think that you can treat me like that—say those things to me and I’ll just let you use me again?”

“Hey, we used each other--.”

“Get out! And I suggest that you stay the hell away from me unless you want me to break your legs again!” Standing up, she shoved back hard, causing him to fall against the carpet, before storming to her room.
******