[Reviews - 52]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 1931 times

- Text Size +




Author's Chapter Notes:
The characters aren't mine. The plot and dialog is. Not making any money off it. But it'd be really nifty if I were.
+~+~+~+

Everyone know's everything about all of us.
That's too much knowledge.
I can't get behind that!

+~+~+~+


"Move it a little to the left.”

“Like that?”

“Yea… no… Ow! Would you stop hitting me with that thing?”

Johnathon rubbed his head fiercely as Andrew moved the flashlight toward another dark crevice. The sounds of slow-dripping water and the cold smell of ash surrounded them. Warren rolled his eyes. “The two of you are standing thirty feet from the most powerful portal to hell that exists in this dimension. So could you please, just once, get your frelling acts together?” He walked away from them, intent on scouring a cavern some distance away.

“I’ve got it. I’ve got it,” Johnathon breathed as he slipped the talisman deep into a pants pocket.

“No,” came a dark voice from the far end of the tunnel. “We’ve got you.”


+++


“So, Buffy. What’s the what? Evil Dead here wouldn’t let on until you got here,” Xander spoke from his seat on the far side of the Magic Box.

“Right.” Spike’s voice was solemn and slow as he turned the chair he was straddling toward Xander. “I’m sorry I didn’t share. See, thing is,” he squinted, “I don’t like you.”

“Spike,” Buffy said sharply. She felt a twinge of regret when he turned hurt eyes on her. Great way to a new start, Buffy. Treat him like a child. Buffy’s more annoyed voice piped up… Not like it’d be necessary if just once he’d stop acting like one. Stupid vampire. She brushed the thoughts away and addressed Willow, Xander, Anya and Spike. “I asked Tara to keep Dawn till we’re finished here. Spike’s got some info on a new evil or something.”

Buffy walked to the table to stand nonchalantly by his side. Spike ignored her. He filled everyone in on the tip he’d gotten and the demons he’d found.

“Wait a minute…”
“Hold up…”

Buffy and Willow spoke simultaneously. Buffy continued, “You said he called her Debbie?”

Spike finally looked up into her face. “Yeah. What of it?”

Buffy and Willow’s eyes met. “But… they’re dead,” Willow squeaked.

“Or they were,” she added. “Only one way to know for sure. Spike, do you think you could identify these two if you saw them?”

His brow furrowed. “Sure. Not likely to forget that kind of ass-kicking.”

“But you have so many to choose from,” Xander tossed out.

Spike’s jaw tightened. On impulse, Buffy inched closer to him and subtly brushed an unseen hand against his shoulder blade in support. If anything, his tension grew. She took a step back.

“Yearbook,” Xander suddenly said.

Spike glanced over. “And thank you, Mr. Non Sequitur.”

“If that’s some kind of gay joke thing…”

“You’ve got a problem with implied gayness?” Willow narrowed her eyes and stared at Xander.

“Oh, for the love of monkeys,” Anya shouted. “Stop wasting time casting irreverent, and fairly impotent, aspersions at each other. Some of us still have inventory to do tonight.”

“Anya’s… right,” Buffy said awkwardly. “We should all be together on this.” Her eyes drifted to the black duster in front of her before making their way back to the others.

Xander spoke again. “What I mean is, Debbie and Pete’s pictures. They’d be in our high school yearbook. If we find those, then the Bleached Wonder can give the pictures the once over, and we’ll know for sure.”

“Right. So anybody got one handy?” Buffy asked.

Xander answered, “I think mine’s in the car. Some stuff fell out while I was moving. It’s probably still there.”

“Keys?” she asked. Xander tossed them to her. “Spike and I will go look for it. The rest of you stay here and look for dead-raising demon stuff. Or… whatever.” Buffy turned on her heel and walked out of the Magic Box. Spike slowly followed.

Instead of heading for Xander’s car, Buffy made a short turn and traveled down a dark alley a few blocks away. As Spike rounded the corner, Buffy spun on him.

“Spike, what the hell is your problem?”

“You really don’t want to know.” He sighed and looked away.

“Of course,” Buffy nodded. “Cause that’s why I asked you, you big jerk.”

“You only ever hear what you want to hear, pet. No point in chatting up stone.”

Buffy winced, but she pressed forward. One step closer, then two. Spike reached in his pocket as if going for his cigarettes. Then he seemed to give up. He dropped his hands and leaned back against the alley wall. “We should just head back.” The tightness in his voice and face belied his words. “Look, this isn’t going anywhere, Slayer. We both know it.”

Does he mean us talking? Or just us in general? Buffy’s heart sank in her chest, even as her anger at the implied rejection grew. “Spike, just shut up.” She took the final step toward him, lacing her hands in the lapels of his jacket as she pressed soft lips against his. His lips were cool and dry, and he made no move to kiss her back.

Buffy looked up into unrelenting grey eyes. “Spike?” she whispered.

Slowly, she drew her face to his again, searching for some kind of reaction. If she was just gentle with him, if she let things be softer this time… maybe something could change. She kissed him again. She felt no telltale hardening of certain parts of his body. No barely caged passion. He just stood and let her kiss him as he watched.

He continued staring when she pulled away. After seconds passed between them, he spoke in a soft, haggard voice. “What are you playing at, Buffy?”

She turned her face down toward his shirt while her fingers idly rubbed his duster. “Nothing. Nothing. I just thought… what I wanted was…”

It seemed for a moment his body grew even colder beneath her. In the next heartbeat, he was on her, spinning her around so her back slammed against the crusted brick wall, hands under her arms as he lifted her to straddle him. He caught her in a bone-crushing kiss, and Buffy lost her breath when his tongue forced its way to hers. The denim seam of his jeans rubbed tightly against her own, warming and wetting her as she felt his firm friction in just the right place. She could get him hard after all. One of his hands slipped under her shirt to roughly grab her breast, dragging the lace fabric of her bra against her nipple. Buffy gasped and moaned, then realized he was speaking to her, low and angry.

“That’s the ticket, isn’t it? Know what you want. What you need.” He thrust hard against her, lowering his head to lick her throat, moaning when she scratched her nails across his chest. “It’s always about what you want. From me. This is all you’ll ever…”

The words snapped her back. This isn’t right. This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be this time. Not in a dirty alley. Not like this. Not again. Buffy kissed his cheek softly, working her way across his face to lick a small trail below his ear. If anything, the tenderness only wrought a fiercer reaction. Spike growled, biting down hard at the juncture between her shoulder and her neck. His human teeth gripped her, and despite her efforts to slow this, she felt her clit tingling and her abdomen clenching in a shadow of impending release.

Spike seemed to notice, slowing only to pop open the top button of his jeans. His rigid words didn’t stop. “Want me to take you like this? That it?” Buffy tried to bring a delicate hand to his face, but he shook her off. A part of her wanted to stop this entirely, before they went too far, but he knew her weaknesses too well. He nipped at the lobe of her ear and whispered into it huskily. “Want me to make you scream?”

Buffy whimpered with heat, then froze when Xander’s voice in the distance landed on her like water. “Buffy? Spike? Where’d you two go?”

Spike’s tempo never faltered. “Spike,” Buffy tried. “Spike, we have to stop. Xander’s coming.”

“Not before you do, kitten. Cause you don’t want to stop, do you, Slayer?” He brushed her shirt up, pulled her bra down, and sucked a nipple into his mouth. Buffy fought to stifle her moan while he suckled her, still pumping himself against her.

This was wrong. And bad. And… there. Right there. Yes. And Xander could find them at any second, and she had to stop… she had to…

“Come,” Spike breathed hotly into her ear.

Buffy felt the spasms rack her before she’d realized her body was obeying. Her thighs tightened against him fiercely, squeezing him to stillness while she ground out her orgasm against him.

Xander’s voice was growing closer, and Buffy knew she should pull herself away even as her head dropped to rest against Spike’s shoulder while they panted together.

“Liked that, did you?” Spike said. Buffy nodded against him. “Good.” He moved his hand down to his zipper. “Now it’s my turn.”

Xander’s steps were closer now, and so very real. Buffy grabbed Spike’s hand. “What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed.

“May not be a bright bint, but I’d think you’d be able to suss that much.” The grating of the zipper being lowered was deafening in her ears. She pulled his hand away roughly and stared hard into his face. “Spike, not now.”

Spike’s eyes narrowed to coal slits as he zipped himself back up. He nodded once. Xander’s voice again. He’d be there any minute. Spike set her down on her feet, rubbing himself sensuously against her one more time before leaning in for a velvet whisper. “If that’s how you think this bit goes, Buffy, you’ve still got a thing or two to learn about being a good little whore.”

Blindly, Buffy struck hard, and Spike fell back against the opposite wall. “You bastard,” she muttered. She saw the conflict on his face as he wiped the blood from his nose and Xander rounded the corner.

“Hey guys, I was looking all over for you. Anya found the book in the shop.” Xander waved the book in front of him before taking in Buffy’s rumpled clothes and Spike’s bleeding face. “So…What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Spike said as he shouldered past the brunette, leaving an empty-feeling Buffy behind him. “Nothing new, anyway,” he tossed back as he bitterly walked away.





You must login (register) to review.