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Author's Chapter Notes:
The story is based on how weed affects you, so if you are against it, please don`t read!
Special thanks for fyreburned aka. Kara, my beta, she does a wonderful job.
“Come on, Buffy! It will be Soooo much fun!”

“No, Willow! I said no! I have to patrol, anyway...” *Of course I'd never tell her that I find this whole Wicca thing just a made-up excuse for these dateless and unfucked girls to get drunk and cry on one another's shoulders about how much they miss men. And of course, these two actually believe in magic, and are so naïve that they think the other girls actually care about magic at all.*

“But it will really be GOOD for you! None of these girls have a boyfriend, and they will totally understand you when we get a bit drunk and you know, get honest with ourselves and you might start crying about loosing Angel and then Parker and now Riley...” Willow finally gasped for a breath. “We'll have a big girls' night out! Pleeeeeeeease come with us?”

“Okay, okay...Just shut up about it already. I'll come with you and Tara.” So I went with Willow and Tara to their monthly “I have my Monthlies” Girls' Night Out Club, which, as I found out too late, was nothing more than all the girls sitting around together on the floor in somebody's living room smoking pot. Yeah, the whole “pot” thing. I'd never tried it before; Giles had strictly forbidden me to EVER try it. He said it totally kills the slayers' senses, making them unable to focus so that it is practically lethal to a slayer. So, when they lit the bong and started passing it around, I tried to say no. I was so afraid of it, knowing tat smoking it might get me killed but I couldn't tall all these girls that I am afraid. Me. Me, the Slayer; the girl Chosen and who is fighting evil every night, saving the world from time to time, the only one who came back from death, is afraid of a bong. Of course, Willow knew; she was there when Giles had laid down the law about it. But she wanted to be part of this group so much, that when she told me to smoke only a puff, I caved, saying yes.

I took it and the lighter, I lit it, and inhaled the smoke of my first hit. Then I passed it around just as the rest of the girls did, and then I started feeling it kicking in. The hotness in my chest, the tingling of my skin, the huge smile I couldn't wipe off of my stupid face. I guess I must have been sitting there looking like the Joker from Batman, my grin was so big. Then I looked around and started wondering '...are they feeling it as well? Or are they just watching me and wondering how stoned I am? God, they must be laughing at me on the inside, just to see what my reactions are!'. I looked around and noticed Willow. She was caressing Tara's left arm with her right hand, and she was practically chewing on Tara's left earlobe. It was obvious to me that Willow was trying to make out with her. I suddenly noticed that the thought of seeing these two making out in front of me turned me on. I felt wetness pouring between my legs at that thought. I noticed two other girls were kissing. Another two were just standing up, hand in hand and heading towards the stairs.

'What the heck is this? This is not a Wiccan Club! It should be called Lesbos 'R Us or something!' I thought indignantly, as more than a little paranoia crept in. Although I still felt a little bit of arousal, I was more pissed, the more I thought about it. 'What did Willow think? That after Riley leaving me she could transform me into a lesbian?' But to be honest, I have to admit that little Japanese girl in my jujitsu classes looks kinda hot...What's her name? Sottoo?...Tattoo?...Satsu, that's it! Wait, NO waaaay, I'm not gonna get laid by a girl, no how, no way. Especially not with a Japanese one! Man, I gotta leave, NOW!'

“Willow!” I was jabbing at her shoulder. “WILLOW! I am leaving. Now!” I told her adamantly.

“Okay, Buffy, 'bye...” Willow replied with a stupid, dreamy smile on her face. I stood up, and went out the entrance, shutting the door behind me with a loud bang.

I was so angry with Willow. I felt like I had to kill something. Or at least kick someone. I knew I had to stay away from the vamps and demons, as I was stoned. The only guy I could kick on tonight, was who else? Pale, annoying, bleached hair, chain-smoker, big mouth? That's right, Mr. William The Bloody...Spike. So I headed off to Restfield Cemetery. On the way my brain just couldn't shut down; all of my thoughts were swirling around and around. And then I smelled it. A faint scent of cigarettes, leather, musk, and blood. I was two streets away from the cemetery and I swear I smelled Spike. I stopped, looked around, and I was listening. I heard his T.V. That was insane! His crypt was still like a half-mile away. So I decided to go on, and went straight towards his crypt. I opened his door without the thought of knocking and I entered. He was sitting in front of his T.V. In his comfy chair, with one leg thrown over the arm of it. He was wearing black leather pants and a black button up shirt, unbuttoned. He was smoking, while he was holding a crystal chalice full of blood. He was incredibly sexy. I knew he only used the chalice on those rare occasions when he was able to steal blood from a hospital and the thought of him drinking stolen human blood was even sexier. He looked so dangerous and so sensual. Until he opened his mouth.

“Slayer” he said with a serious look on his face. He tried to look calm, but somehow I thought I knew what he was thinking. I was sure he was scared of me staking him without any reason. The thought of Spike, Slayer of Slayers being afraid of me was suddenly really funny.

“Spike” I said, and I giggled.

“Why did you come here, Slayer?”

“I'm bored, I want to kick somebody's ass, and I just happened to be in the neighborhood. Put down the chalice and come with me...I wanna spar!”

“You must be fucking kidding me, Slayer. Do you honestly think that I jump when you whistle and when you wanna play kick the Spike I'll come happily along and will be begging for you to break my nose again?”

“Yes!” Well, he wanted an answer, and I gave him one.

“You are mental. I'll show you, I'll...”

“You'll what? Curse me to death?” and I grabbed him by his right arm and shoved him against his sarcophagus. “I came here friendly, you idiot! I thought that you as a good and loyal side-kick could actually be so kind as to help me let off some steam a bit by sparring with me. Now I see I was wrong!”

“A good and loyal what? Am I a side-kick to you, Slayer? I'll show you a side-kick. I'm nobody's side-kick. I AM still The Big Bad!” Spike seemed to get angrier by the moment.

And then he hit me. Of course, his chip fired and he cried out in pain, but he seemed to be so angry right then he didn't notice. He kicked me with his left foot right out of the crypt. He came after me and grabbed my jacket's collar with both of his hands, and his face was practically only three inches away from my face. His angry gaze was enthralling. He was sensuality itself. Or at least that was what I thought in that very moment. I started feeling my juices between my legs again. I always felt aroused after a fight, but this time I was practically soaking my panties. God, I must be really desperate to get laid if I was getting off on Spike!

“I know what your problem is, Slayer. You haven't been shagged properly since Captain Cardboard left. I wonder if you EVER got shagged good 'n' proper by him? Well, thinking about it, I don't think you've ever been given it good by any of your loverboys, looking back on 'em. I could make you scream my name in ecstasy a zillion times in one night if you just let me take you to my crypt and get you undressed...”

And I was actually thinking about taking him up on his offer when I smelled blood again.
And I threw up. Right in his face. Like Stan Marsh does in South Park when he sees Wendy.

“...bloody buggerin' hell, Slayer!!! What was THAT for?” Spike sputtered, stepping back away from me, swiping at himself not quite effectively.

I felt so embarrassed, I couldn't say a word. I stood up and ran. I ran fast and hard until I reached my dorm and burst into my room.

I knew it was the pot. Giles had lied to me. The pot didn't dull the slayers' senses; it boosted them. Every sense. The smelling, the hearing, the eyesight; even the hunger and the horniness. Each one, only magnified like a hundred times more.

I knew I had to get stoned again the next day. I had to try to patrol like that.


Chapter End Notes:
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