Author's Note: This is a story that is a crossover with the series Profiler. The focus of the story is Spuffy, but there is a fair amount of Jack/Samantha. Jack and Spike have a lot in common and I thought they would make great friends. Although mortal, Jack is very similar to Spike, a charming chain smoking killer who believes the woman he stalks belongs in the dark with him. And just like Spike has the sweet alter ego William, Jack has the goofy sweetie Ed as his alter ego. This should be understandable even if you've never seen Profiler. This takes place in Season 4 Buffy, just after "Out of My Mind" and in Season 3 of Profiler, sometime post "Otis, CA" Starts out PG-13 and progresses to NC-17. If anyone is interested in being my beta, I'm looking for someone, but in the mean time thank you for bearing with my mistakes. This is my first fanfiction I've ever written.






Obsessions
Chapter 1

On a cool fall evening, Sunnydale found itself host to two very dangerous men. One man was living and one man was dead or undead to be precise. Both living and unliving man were sinfully handsome, with a predatory air about them. Each man was obsessed with his own personal Golden Goddess that haunted his entire life during both waking and sleeping hours. On opposite ends of town the frustration was coming off in waves from both men, who were oblivious to one anothers very existence

"Damn," Jack muttered to himself carrying his special black leather back away from the service station. Everytime he flew to Atlanta to see his beloved Samantha he drove to a different city to catch his plane. He'd just returned to California after leaving his Sam an artfully displayed corpse with a red rose and a love note, but now he had to get back to Otis where he remained well hidden. Jack, known on the FBI most wanted list as Jack of All Trades was beyond careful; which was why after more than 7 years he continued to elude capture. He needed to remain free so he could continue courting his Samantha. He would be so glad when he finished got his pilot's license and could buy his own plane.

His white Cadillac refused to start in the airport parking lot. After being towed to the station, the mechanic looked over Jack's car. Jack barely contained his annoyance as the simple greasemonkey informed him it would be 48 hours before it was taken care of so he should grab a room at the motel across the way and make himself cozy. Briefly Jack toyed with killing the mechanic and helping himself to another vehicle, but he bought the Cadillac only 6 months ago and he didn't want to to get his custom tailored ivory suit ruined on it's maiden voyage. So instead he told the mechanic to take his luggage across the street, took his black bag and stormed off. The man at the gas station had been on the verge of telling Mr. Suit where he could shove his luggage but the cruel sneer Jack gave him froze him cold and he decided that this was one of those special Sunnydale situations no one ever talked about so he swallowed and grabbed the bags.

Walking aimlessly through the town, Jack tried to compose himself and let go of his irritation. A light shone in a florist shop and he smiled. Entering the shop as the heady scent of the flowers assailed him, he knew this was just what he needed. Choosing one long stem red rose that still had the thorns adorning it, he brought out his wallet, his breath catching momentarily as he caught sight of his Samantha's image within. Inhaling deeply Jack reveled in the feeling of closeness to his Samantha. The rose was quite nice, not as lovely as those he planted for his love and fertilized with the corpses of those who would harm her, but better than nothing. Was his beloved at the VCTF reviewing her files on him even now?

Lost in his thoughts, Jack wandered further through the little town. His reverie was abruptly broken by a feminine laugh. Looking up from his flower he noticed a girl that looked much like his Samantha though nearly a decade younger. She shone like a flame in the night, there was something special about this girl and Jack smiled in the darkness drinking her beauty in for a moment and thinking of his Samantha. Suddenly, an oafish college boy brushed past him and pushed his tongue into the girl's mouth. The boy reminded him of Tom Waters, his Samantha's unworthy husband whom he'd disposed of and a scowl crossed his handsome face. An oversized lug pawing carelessly at a delicate rose! Jack decided to follow the pair into the club and find out more about the pair. Perhaps tomorrow he could dress appropriately and make good use of his knife...

At the same time, Spike stormed out of his crypt in a rage. Harmony had moved most his Passions tapes and his punk CD collection to make room for her damn unicorn statues. Unfortunately she had moved Spikes beloved media items too close to the radiator he'd installed to ward off the fall chill and he awoke to a sickening pile of melted plastic. Ripping a tombstone out of the ground and throwing, Spike roared in frustration. One of these days he would stake the idiotic bint, but her companionship was better than being alone at the moment. Last week he had kidnapped a doctor to have the chip removed from his head and enable him to kill Buffy. Not only did his plan get thwarted, but the terrifying realization that he was in love with her dawned on him. Never in his unlife had Spike felt more alone.

Now he found himself following her around like a lovesick schoolboy trying to help Buffy when she slayed to make certain no errant fangs found the graceful column of her throat. To make matters worse her hulking sod of a boyfriend Riley was forever underfoot. Captain Riley Finn, former Initiative Commando would have be an obstacle even if she would overlook all the times Spike tried to kill her. Last night he'd overheard Buffy make plans with Captain Cardboard to meet at the Bronze. Maybe he'd go and watch her quietly from the shadows while and throw back a few shots before returning to Harmony's whining because he'd shouted at her over the destruction of his beloved soap opera tapes and all of his Billy Idol collection.

Lighting a cigarette, Spike drew his long black leather duster tightly around him and headed towards the Bronze. Pausing for a second, he took his flask out and slammed the contents quickly. The bourbon burned as it ran down his throat and gave an artificial warmth to the vampire's body. When he arrived at the Bronze he saw the object of his desire on the dance floor with her noxious boyfriend and annoying friends. Red and Demon Girl were all right, but bloody Harris was a pain in the ass, God he hated the whelp. Purposefully Spike went to the bar slammed down $50 demanded a bottle of whiskey. He told the waitress at the bar he was heading upstairs and to keep them coming...

The balcony overlooking the floor was mostly empty which meant Spike could watch his girl below in near privacy. Seating himself in the shadows he stared below at Buffy and opened the bottle of Jack Daniels. In mere minutes he had the entire bottle emptied. He was about to head down to the bar when the waitress appeared at this elbow with another bottle of whiskey and a bottle of bourbon balanced on her tray as well as a wine bottle and goblet.

"Figured you'd want the usual since she's here," the waitress said nodding at the dance floor below. She'd seen seen Spike drink ungodly amounts of alcohol time and again and knew he wasn't entirely human but he was a great tipper and never harmed her. Sunnydale wasn't a town to ask too many questions in.

"Since when is white wine my usual?" Spike asked in amusement pulling several bills out of his wallet, indicating the bottle and stemmed glass on the tray.

"They're not for you hon, they're for him," she pointed behind her to another shadowed part of the balcony before she headed that direction.

Spike briefly watched the waitress head over to her other customer. It was rare anyone ordered anything with as expensive a label as that bottle bore in this club. But seeing custom tailored suits in this town was pretty rare too, Spike decided eyeing the stranger for a moment. Returning his attention to the alcohol before him he scanned the crowd for his Slayer. The vampire was intent on his girl that he didn't notice the stranger carefully studying him and the scene below...

Jack watched Spike with great interest. The strange blond man in the black leather duster intrigued him. Quietly sipping his wine, Jack observed the play of emotions on the man's face. Unadulterated hatred warred with adoration on the face of the leather clad stranger. As Spike watched below his clenched fists and scarred eyebrow screamed to Jack of barely restrained power and violence. Normally Jack viewed other predators as competition to be eliminated, but this was different, he felt a flicker of kinship. Seeing the girl below who looked like his Samantha being watched by his comrade, he realized they had a common cause. Time to conduct an experiment, Jack decided heading down the stairs...

Chapter 2

Spike tensed as he watched from his perch saw the man in the suit approached Buffy at the table where she sat with her friends. He saw Jack bend down and say something in the Slayer's ear that made her smile. After turning to the rest of the table for a moment, Buffy stood up and let the well dressed stranger lead her to the dance floor. Spike clenched his teeth as he watched the couple glide gracefully across the dance floor.

He looks too old for her, Spike tried to reassure himself. Glumly he remembered that despite his youthful appearance he had 100 years on both Buffy and her partner. It was bad enough watching her with that clod Captain Cardboard, but he knew that Riley's days were numbered. As they were dancing, the man was smiling and Buffy seemed at ease with him. The man looked up at Spike and winked. Spike shook his head, he must have imagined it. Why would a stranger taunt him? Did he have a bleeding death wish? Spike leaned back thoughtfully and capped the bottle of alcohol that was in his hands maybe he needed to get some air. Tucking the bottle under his coat he stood up slightly shakily and walked downstairs and towards the exit.

Jack kissed Buffy's hand gallantly and strode over to the bar where he'd left his bag of tools in care of the bartender. Quickly and silently he strode out of the Bronze to follow after Spike. With the more stealth than the shadows themselves, Jack tailed the blonde vampire through the night. Silently he followed him into the residential part of the small town and watched the peroxide head shimmy up a tree outside of a house and climb through the window. Although he wasn't dressed for tree climbing, Jack decided to get a better look...

Spike sat his bottle down on Buffy's dresser and had a quick look around. On the floor was Buffy's light blue cashmere sweater she'd worn yesterday, tossed carelessly aside. Spike bent down and picked it up and inhaled the vanilla scent that clung to it.

"Buffy-" Spike sighed almost as if praying, unaware of his audience.

Folding the sweater and starting a pile of treasures on the bed, Spike moved to the nightstand. Tears threatened to spill as he caught site of his skull ring in an open jewelry box from their brief engagement, but he blinked them back. It was getting to be the time that Buffy would be getting home and Spike knew he'd better get a move on before she could catch him there. Casting a glance around the room, he quickly added two satin thongs from the Slayer's dirty clothing pile to the sweater and a pair of handwraps she had worn while training earlier in the week. Not a bad haul, he'd have to come back in a couple days and see what else he could scavenge.

As Spike picked up his bottle and stolen mementos, Jack made his way down the tree and back into the shadows. Spike climbed down and lit a cigarette below the tree as he began his vigil. He watched for Buffy's return and hoped that she wouldn't bring Whitebread home with her. As his cigarette smoke snaked upwards to the crisp fall sky, Spike remained unaware of the smoker who lit up in the shadows behind him. Both men stood in silence waiting not moving as Buffy and Riley approached the house.

"Oh come on Riley," Buffy sighed walking towards her front door.

"Ok, maybe I'm being Mr. Overprotective, but I don't like seeing my girl dance with strange men," Riley said following behind her.

"Look!," Buffy exclaimed in exasperation as she turned around to face her boyfriend. "In Sunnydale men in suits usually means vampires or something else hellmouthy. I put a dash of holy water on my hand under the table so I could see if he would go all grrrr."

"Well you seemed to be having a lot of fun with him," Riley pushed.

Yeah I did, Buffy thought snidely. At least he didn't stomp all over my feet like you do. But Riley had said how insecure he felt over the whole superhero bit, so she forced the feeling back and smiled at her boyfriend.

"Sweetie, I'm still touchable," Buffy reassured him and pressed her lips to his.

"Mmm, very touchable indeed," Riley moaned softly. "Does this mean I get to come in tonight?"

Buffy hesitated and then replied, "Sure, mom's asleep, let's sneak up to my room."

Buffy unlocked the door and pulled Riley in with her. A soft growl escaped from Spike and his face shifted briefly. Opening his bottle of whiskey, Spike took a drink and threw his cigarette to the ground in irritation. The light came on in Buffy's room briefly and then went off. From above there were soft human moans, undetectable to anyone in the town except for the pair that stood below. Spike drained the bottle's contents and threw it into the neighbors lawn. He clenched his fists until he drew blood as he heard Cardboard grunt lustily, indicating his five minute record remained standing.

"Doesn't make her scream," he muttered to himself. "Bet I could make her scream the bloody house down if she gave me half a chance."

Fumbling in his coat pocket, Spike withdrew his package of cigarettes and cursed when he discovered the pack was empty.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath.

"Allow me," Jack said softly stepping out of the shadow extending his package of cigarettes...

A/N Jack's speech may seem odd because he seldom uses contractions, it is deliberate.

Chapter 3

"Who the bleeding hell are you and wot are you doing outside my Slayer's window?" Spike demanded angrily. Chip or no chip, he would never let anyone hurt his girl.

"I'm a friend who is waiting for you to bring your trophies and get a drink with me," he replied pointing at Spike's plunder from Buffy's room.

"Look Mate, I don't like other men hanging around my girl's house," the vampire growled softly.

"Like them in her bed even less, I wager," Jack mocked.

Spike tensed ready to strike then eased back and shrugged, "Don't matter much does it? Not like I can do anything about it, can I?"

"Can you not?" Jack smiled.

"Believe me if I didn't have this damn bit of government plastic in my head, I would have-" Spike trailed off, realizing he was being awfully frank with a total stranger.

"Eliminated the competition," the man finished Spike's sentence.

"Well, yeah. You know Sunnyhell isn't exactly safe this time of night. Maybe you should be on your way suit boy."

The man gave Spike a smile with perfect even white teeth and looked him in the eye. Despite his chip, Spike knew he had an advantage. Scare the ponce and he'll run scared, he thought. Spike shifted into game face expecting the man to run in fear. Instead of running, the man remained, indeed his bemused expression remained frozen. Spike studied the man silently for a moment and subtly sniffed in case he was a demon and alcohol had merely impaired his judgment. The man smelled of tobacco, roses, and? Human blood?!? Sodding demons, he thought and swung at the stranger.

Jack fell backwards from the impact to his jaw and Spike fell back from the impact of the chip. Both men sat up and looked at each other. The vampire's face shifting back to normal as he considered the man in front of him.

"Not bad," Jack laughed and jumped to his feet and extended his hand to Spike.

"Name's Spike," he replied taking the stranger's hand shaking it and then standing up.

"Spike," Jack tried the name on his tongue as if considering it. "Nickname?"

"Yeah earned it torturing your kind with railroad spikes," Spike answered proudly.

"Never tried that, keep that one in mind," Jack whispered softly to himself.

"Wot was that?"

"Not important right now. So Spike shall we get that drink?"

"Why not," Spike shrugged and walked beside the stranger. "What's your name?"

"What is in a name?" he piqued and then answered the slightly annoyed vampire. "I'm just a Jack of All Trades."

"Well Jack where are we headed to, I have only a couple hours till sunrise."

"In that case, we will stop and pick something up on the way to your place, as you've destroyed my clothing," Jack replied, slipping his jacket off and looking ruefully at the grass stains.

"My place, you aren't a bloody poof are you. Cuz sorry about it, but I don't go in for that sort of thing."

Jack laughed, opened his wallet and held it for Spike to see, "That is my Samantha."

"Pretty. Reminds me of Buffy," Spike relaxed slightly seeing the elegant blonde woman's picture.

"Buffy? What in hell sort of name is that?"

"Hey it's a perfectly- ah hell, it is a stupid name. But-"

"It is her name and therefore perfect?" Jack supplied.

"Yeah," Spike nodded.

"That is the same way I feel about my Samantha. Why don't you tell me all about you and your Buffy?" Jack prompted as the pair walked into the night...

Chapter 4

What the bleeding hell did I do last night? Spike wondered as he awoke with the mother of all hangovers. Sitting in his chair, he looked towards his television and remembered Harmony's screwup which prompted the start of his drinking binge. Remember going to the Bronze and then- Bugger can't remember a bleedin thing. As Spike stood up he spotted the treasures he'd taken from Buffy's room and smiled. Don't remember getting those, but best hide them before Harm comes back. Don't need the Blondie Bear/Slayer speech again.

As Spike picked up his mementos from his Slayer, he looked around his crypt, something was different but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. His ashtray was overflowing and he remembered emptying it yesterday. Taking a couple steps towards the ladder that lead to the sub-level of the crypt, Spike stopped short. On the floor was on lone red rose petal. Oh well, must be something he tracked in, hazard of living in a cemetery, bloody flowers everywhere. He went below and placed his items in his Buffy shrine. Behind a curtain were dozens of images of her, drawings, pilfered panties and other items belonging to his Golden Goddess.

Spike rubbed his face against the sweater and inhaled his Slayer's scent. God he wanted her. He grew hard as he inhaled her scent. Carefully laying her sweater down. Spike grabbed a pair of her panties and then grabbed some cushions he had lying just outside the curtained alcove. He arranged the cushions in the doorway and began to strip his clothes off. Sitting down on the cushions he stared at the smiling images of his beloved and reached for his cock which was almost painfully erect.

Taking Buffy's panties, he licked the crotch to enhance the scent and to taste his beloved Slayer. She tasted so good, he wished he could lap her sweet juice from her pussy rather than only from her panties, he could spend days with his head between those golden thighs. A groan escaped him as his hand continued pleasuring his tormented flesh. He locked his eyes on a photo of her smiling wearing a tight tank top with no bra and began fantasizing as he worked his cock and precum began to weep out.

It started in the Bronze, where everything between them began. She was wearing a skimpy outfit, black leather skirt and tiny black tank, he decided. Dancing seductively the entire crowd blurred as Buffy became the only thing in the universe. Buffy looked up at Spike, smiled and pulled him to her. They danced slowly and then their lips met. Pulling away from their battle of tongues, Buffy moaned his name and lead him to the door of the Bronze.

They rushed down the street toward Spike's crypt, stopping to grab one another furiously. Mouths and tongues fought in desperation and hand wandered indecently as they approached their destination. At last in the cemetery, Spike could wait no longer, he placed her on a large flat tomb. Buffy struggled with her tanktop, distracted as Spike began to suck on one rosy peak as it was exposed. She writhed as he used over a hundred years of expertise on her body, tormenting her nipples until they stood out so far hardly any areola remained around the edge.

Buffy pulled the blonde head from her breasts to her mouth and mated her tongue with his. Spike reached to the hem of Buffy's skirt and slowly slid it upwards. He moved to caress her through her panties, but his fingers found none and instead caressed the steamy heat of her pussy. Without breaking his mouth from hers, Spike ran his fingertip along Buffy's slit and made her moan into his mouth.

Pulling away from her, he smiled wickedly. "Dirty little Slayer. No panties, someone is in for a tongue lashing."

Buffy quivered with anticipation and laid back. Spike grabbed her legs and spread them wide. Slowly he trailed his lips from just about the knee on one inner thigh and worked upwards, he allowed his mouth to linger at the hub of her femoral artery and nipped it softly. Buffy drew her legs up and rested her ankles on her shoulders, giving Spike full access to her pussy. She whimpered as Spike traced her slit with his tongue in one broad lazy stroke and then another. He pushed one finger gently into Buffy's wet center and then added a second. Spike probed slowly until he found her g-spot and began to tease it gently. He moved his mouth to her clit and began circling it with his tongue.

Buffy's breath was coming in shallow pants as she teetered on the brink. Spike continued licking her slowly, moving his fingers in her wet cunt at the same languorous pace. Reaching out Buffy tried to grab onto Spike, but her fingers jerked reflexively as her orgasm hit her full force and a scream tore from her lips. Even as her gasps slowed, Spike continued the gentle onslaught of his mouth and fingers. Buffy tried vainly to push Spike away. He grabbed her hands with his free hand and continued his attentions to her swollen clit and gently pushed a third finger into the velvet heat of her pussy. Pleasure mounting, Buffy writhed and began crying Spike's name over and over as if she were chanting a prayer. Spike licked faster and his fingers sped up their dance within the Slayer's pussy until she came again and was reduced to soft wordless whimpers.

A self-satisfied smile stole across Spike's face as he released her hands and lifted his face from her pussy. Gently he withdrew his fingers from her shiny wetness and gave one a lick. The other two were still dripping wet as he brought them to her mouth and slid them in. Buffy took hold of his hand as she sucked her juices off Spike's fingers. Then she released his hand and pulled Spike on top of her and his mouth down on hers.

"Need to feel you," she panted against his mouth. Spike stood up, removed his dust and t-shirt as Buffy sat up and jerked his jeans open. His cock eagerly strained into Buffy's warm hand.

"Blondie bear," she said.

"Blondie huh?" Spike asked confused.

"Blondie Bear!" Harmony's voice intruded from the crypt above, pulling Spike from his fantasy.

Shit! Spike stood up and walked outside of his shrine. Angrily he grabbed his jeans and forced his hard cock inside.

Chapter 5

"Suppose it's true, suppose I do want to dance. It would never be you Spike. You're beneath me." Buffy sneered at Spike and threw money at him then stormed from the alley on the computer screen.

Amid dozens of flickering candles and piles of roses in every state from fresh to dried, Jack watched from his computer chair intently. Before leaving Sunnydale he had placed small cameras at a variety of strategic locations so he could analyze Spike's obsession and how to turn it to their mutual advantage. Whereas most mortals would have been shocked by the discovery of the supernatural, Jack had been only mildly intrigued by the revelation. He had to admire his friend's taste in women. Buffy would never be his Samantha, but then no woman could be. But the Slayer as she was called had amazing instincts for killing and would be a pleasure to have around.

Jack snuffed out one cigarette and lit another, then began to type on his keyboard. The camera feed from the alley behind the Bronze disappeared and the one from Samantha's bedroom appeared. She had fallen asleep reading a file on Jack, causing him to smile. His Samantha, so beautiful, always thinking of him. Sam moaned slightly and moved in her sleep. Dreaming of me, Jack mused as she murmured his name in her sleep. He could watch her all night, but he needed to check how things were in Sunnyhell as his friend called it.

Jack began to cycle through his Sunnydale feeds. Spike's crypt, the cemetery, Buffy's bedroom, Buffy's living room, Buffy's front yard, Buffy's backyard- Shit! Jack thought as he finally found his friend, striding purposefully into the yard, shotgun in hand.

Jack stood up and shouted loudly, "God damn it!" Then he picked up a vase of roses and threw them across the room. If Spike's temper screwed this up- Jack paused and settled back in his chair as the scene on the screen changed.

"What's wrong?" Spike asked concerned by the tears dancing in Buffy's green eyes.

"I don't want to talk about it," she answered softly.

"Is there anything I can do?"

Getting no answer, Spike felt helpless, but he couldn't leave his girl in so much pain. He sat down beside her and gingerly patted her shoulder. For several moments they just sat that way. Then Buffy slowly turned to Spike and began to sob in earnest. Spike threw caution to the wind and wrapped his arms around her and drew her onto his lap. He was slightly surprised that she didn't hit him or pull back. Despite his distress at her tears, he relished the warmth of her body next to his.

Jack reluctantly switched feeds on his computer. He would have to know what was going on, but he felt he was intruding on a private moment. They could have a few minutes privacy, perhaps he could get an idea of what was wrong from one of the house's other occupants. Flipping through he found Buffy's mother packing a suitcase and pausing to read a piece of paper. Typing rapidly, Jack made the camera zoom to the paper so he could see what had her so intrigued at this hour of the evening. It was an order for a cat scan and a variety of tests ordered by a Dr. Issacs.

Jack turned off the live feed and began to hack into the Sunnydale General Hospital's records. It didn't take him long to force his way in and bring up Joyce's medical records and the blood test results which prompted the CAT scan order. Looking at the red and white cell count Jack decided he had better take a trip to Sunnydale. The hospital would go through all sorts of rigmarole, but Jack could tell it was cancer. Cancer meant a lot of time at the hospital and so he'd better get some cameras placed there as well.

It was getting to be time for Jack to start making a move on Sunnydale anyway. He just needed to get a social inroad and find a target. He began to pack for an extended trip. Throwing a large suitcase on the bed, Jack threw in a laptop computer, then he tossed in a surgical kit, a ziplock filled with exacto knives, and tossed in stacks of money. Two more cases joined the first, all were filled rapidly with a variety of clothing, leather pants, several sheriff's uniforms, roses, rose petals, incense, photo after photo of his Samantha, and countless odd items that made sense to Jack and Jack alone.

Grabbing the cases, Jack walked out of his house and loaded them into his sheriff's car that stood outside the warehouse where his current lair was. Just a quick stop inside the Otis Diner and then the Bowling Alley to make certain there were enough drugs in the food and drink to keep everyone under his control and Jack would be on the road. He placed a framed photo of Samantha against the console of the patrol car, placed a rose underneath it and lit a cigarette, leaning over to the passenger side, he opened a large bag of cheetos. Pulling his cigarette out long enough to grab a cheeto with one gloved hand, Jack juggled his smoke and opened a bottle of southern comfort. Taking a swig before replacing his cigarette, Jack revved the patrol car's engine. Time to motor.