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Author's Chapter Notes:

Hey guys. So sorry about no updates over Christmas, I’ve now got a job so I’m working 30hours a week…its only in a shop and its minimum wage but it suits me coz I can have 3days a week off to do what I want (aka visit friends or the boyfriend now they’ve moved back to Uni, and also write when I can) and its just for a year or so until I choose another course at Uni to do so it’s just a job I can turn up to and then leave behind me when I go home no worries…but over the holidays I was working much longer shifts and more days because it was so busy so I didn’t have time to do any fanfic…I want to stress that I was always posting on twitter, PLEASE even if you haven’t got twitter my page is open for anyone to view so even if you don’t want to or can’t follow me go on there if you want info about this or other stories of mine…


Anyway now that I’m settling into normal hours and getting some money (hopefully enough to pay off my Uni debts) this has cheered me up immensely and hence my muse is back! So here’s a late xmas present for everyone, some Spuffy!




When Buffy woke up she knew it was late; she felt horrible. Her head was banging and her face was sticky wet, both caused by crying too much last night. She’d been exhausted by it, no wonder she’d slept so long, but it hadn’t done her any good. Now she just felt groggy, the way she always did when she overslept.

She was getting out of bed when she saw it, by the door just like he used to leave it; there was her food for the day. He’d left her a box of cereal bars and a pile of sandwiches. She knew it was his way of making up for how much food she’d gone without, but as she tossed the covers off herself and went to retrieve it from the doorway she knew it was too much. She imagined it was probably because her stomach had shrunk a bit due to the no eating.

She picked them up never the less and went to sit back down on her bed. It was a little cold in the house that day, so she tucked her bare legs back under the bed sheets and placed the food in her lap. She’d been dreaming of having this much to eat for days now, yet as she bit into the first sandwich and opened the box to count the bars inside she knew she couldn’t finish both right now.

But she supposed the bars would keep for a while and that’s when the idea hit her. If she just ate the sandwiches she could save the cereal bars, hide them somewhere, keep them for days, maybe a week or two. Then the next time Spike decided to starve her she’d have something to tide her over. If he thought she could eat them all at once he wouldn’t be surprised if the box was empty when she gave it back, so before she finished her sandwich she took out all the bars and stashed them around her room. She didn’t have a massive choice of large hiding places so she had to make do with sneaking the bars separately into nocks and crannies that she found; one in her toiletry bag, one down behind her bedside table, one in her coat pocket in the wardrobe, and so on. She only hoped that if she needed them she could remember where they all were.

She briefly wondered when her captive mind had taken the driving seat back from her emotions, but while it was useful she let it be.

* * * * *

Spike came home that evening and the house was cold, he’d not turned the heating on because Buffy was in bed when he’d left and he thought he wouldn’t be gone long. Now he imagined how she’d spent the day and cringed; it wasn’t freezing but she was bound to be unhappy, he hoped the fact that he’d left her some food would lessen the likelihood that she’d be angry with him.

He went to put the heating up on his way through the kitchen. As he passed by he yanked up his heavy shoulder bag onto the island and left it there as if it wasn’t important, but when he came back he laid his hands on top of it and stared at it for a long time, as if it was the most precious thing in the world.

To him it was.

Not so much the bag itself, but what was inside, and what it would mean for him. The money had been divided and everyone had got a decent cut, Spike made sure of that. Once things had cooled down, and Buffy was out of the picture he could use this to go anywhere, to do anything, no matter what she said to him.

Angel had asked about her today, and he’d had a glint in his eye that Spike didn’t like one bit. It made Spike feel protective of her and without hesitation he’d lied; when Angel had asked if Buffy was still in the picture Spike had covered and said he’d got rid of her and none of them had anything to worry about. Even if it wasn’t true, he didn’t want Angel to know that.

He took a glance towards the stairs; thinking of her for a brief moment had brought her back into his focus. He was making these plans for the future, but he had to think of the present. Without realising it one thought of Buffy made him forget everything he had to look forward to. He tossed the bag under the stairs in the cellar and went up to see her. Angry or not, he’d missed her today.

* * * * *

Buffy had heard Spike come back a few minutes ago. Her mind hadn’t stopped thinking all day. Part of her knew he’d come up to see her eventually and she waited patiently for him; hoping that the longer he took the more time she would have to pull herself together and go through with this.

“Kitten?” he asked tentatively coming around the door.

He saw her sat on the bed. She looked up at him and smiled, “Spike?”

As she stood up and walked towards him Spike couldn’t escape the idea that although she seemed pleased to see him, which was strange enough in itself, she was also nervous about something. He wasn’t sure what, but he didn’t have time to wonder about it, because when she spoke next he forgot about almost everything.

“I’m glad you came back.” she said softly, moving right up in front of him.

He wanted to ask her if she meant it, but he couldn’t speak. He was suddenly very aware of what she was wearing. He remembered buying it her, a black dress, short, tight. He never thought she’d wear it, but when he had made out his lie to the sales assistant who had helped him pick out Buffy’s clothes, that his “girlfriend” had flown across the country to see him and had lost all her luggage at the airport, therefore explaining the new wardrobe surprise he was giving her, she had assured him that she would need a little black dress, and he hadn’t bothered to argue, especially when his mind had wondered at the possibility of her in it. She looked just like his fantasy, or maybe even better.

“What’s going on, Buffy?” he asked, coming back around to what was happening. Something was off, he could sense it; he just couldn’t put his finger on what it was.

“Nothing.” she said, simply, “I’ve just been thinking about what’s going on with us.” She paused so his mind would wonder at the mention of them, “What you said earlier…I can’t be scared of you, Spike. I know why you want me to be...” she hesitated, trying to find the strength to continue. “You’re scared, so you want to push me away…but I’m not going anywhere. You know I’m not.”

Spike looked at her carefully, trying to judge her meaning, but failing as always to figure her out.

“You asked me to be scared of you,” she continued laying her palm on his cheek, “but how can I be scared of someone who is so obviously scared themselves?”

His eyes flittered up to hers but he found her stare too intense.

“Spike?” she pressed.

“Buffy I am scared, okay?” he said softly, “I don’t know what to do.” His eyes darted between hers agonizingly. He didn’t know if he was hoping to find the answer there, or just her understanding, but he waited for something.

She put her second hand on the other side of his face, “I know that,” she said starting off calmly, hoping this would work, “but that doesn’t make what you said alright.”

“Buffy, I’m…”

“Don’t.” she shook her head. “Don’t apologise, don’t talk okay?”

She leaned in slowly, but he felt like it took him by surprise nonetheless. Her lips met his slowly and he let her be in control. She teased him with her mouth, never fully committing but always seeking more from him, and he groaned at the frustrating pace; something in him aching because he was having to hold back so much.

As soon as he made the noise she stopped. He expected her to pull away eventually, but he didn’t expect what happened next. Without another word she took his hand and led him towards the bed.

He stood in front of her not knowing what to do; she sat down and reached for the black t-shirt he was wearing. She fingered the hem and slowly inched it upwards.

She stared up at him for a short time, and he understood what she was asking. He took the bottom of his t-shirt from her grasp and pulled it over his head swiftly. He flung it absentmindedly to the floor and waited.

She trailed her fingertips exploratively around his naked chest and stomach. Spike was holding his breath, hoping it would stop him from embarrassing himself, because he wanted to groan at every touch. Tentatively she leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss against his abs, as if she was testing something. He watched her intensely as she did it again, and again, kissing her way around his body. He was afraid that any sudden movement might scare her and make her change her mind about what they were doing, but after a while he couldn’t stand to be passive any longer; he wanted to join in this thing, whatever it was.

He decided he had to touch her, even if it was in the smallest way. He brought his right hand up and hesitantly laid it on the back of her head. When she didn’t stop kissing him he moved it further, letting his fingers tease their way through her hair. She moaned, stood up suddenly and locked her lips to his passionately.

Her aggression seeped into him and Spike instinctively grabbed her ass and pulled her up off the floor, encouraging her to wrap her legs around him. He walked them forward while still devouring her mouth, but not realising how close they were to the bed he tripped and they fell onto it suddenly.

Together they rolled so they were comfortably laid next to each other and Spike moved down to explore her for the first time. He pulled her dress up passed her hips, and held her still. Her breathing became unsteady when he slowly laid an open mouthed kiss against the seam of her panties, his warm breath tickling her belly. He paused to tease her, making her wonder if he would go lower so soon, but instead he carried on upwards until he reached her waist.

Buffy rolled onto her back and Spike climbed on top of her and buried his face into her hair. His hands now held her toned stomach, stroking softly up and down the smooth skin there until her dress began to ride up under her chest. Her hands were still twisted in his curls, if she’d been aware of the fact that she was pulling him closer to her she would have realised how lost in her role she had become.

He scraped his teeth along her throat, and even though maybe she should have compared his actions with Angel she didn’t, because although they had done the same thing to her Angel’s rough unwanted touch was a million miles away from this. It didn’t feel anything like when that monster had touched her. Everything he did was to drive fear into her, to dominate her; tease her with the possibilities of how he could hurt her. This was teasing and it was serious, but it was unselfish, it was sexy. It wasn’t about what Spike could do to her; it was about what he could give to her. It showed his need for her body, need that he was desperately trying to reign in. Spike was doing everything he could not to frighten her with his passion, but with the slide of his teeth against her skin she felt it regardless, and she shook with anticipation.

As if to calm her he slid one of his hands up from her waist until it cradled her right breast, and when she sighed he squeezed it gently. This time she moaned and it came from the back of her throat and filled the room; her back arched to push herself more into his grip. He paused his ministrations against her neck in awe of her reaction, and then smirked, gratified that he could pull that kind of response from her.

“You are so sexy.” he breathed, shifting so that he could push his whole body against her. They fit together perfectly; she could feel every inch of him, every hard, long, inch against her skin.

With his words she almost came back to reality, but with his actions he pulled her back down deep into her fantasy. And she liked it there.

She forgot why she was doing this, she forgot that they weren’t just two people in love who liked touching each other because it made the world fall away.

He kissed her neck, once, twice, and then again. He started to slide down her body, his kisses slipping lower too. When he reached her collar bone his left hand came to pull the fabric of her neckline aside. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and as soon as he saw her firm nipple standing out he sucked it into his mouth.

Her back arched, trying to push herself into him again. He couldn’t give any more attention to the breast he was lavishing, so instead he decided he needed not to neglect the other and reached out his hand to caress it.

When she started to writhe underneath him it made him want to smile, that he’d found something she liked so much, and he couldn’t stop tormenting her after that; taking turns with her nipples, sucking them until they were red raw, stopping every now and then to lick them, or flick them with his tongue, which made her make the most delicious noises, and one time even shriek.

Suddenly Buffy reached between them, her hand slid down, finding his belt buckle with her finger tips, she traced around it for a second before undoing it and quickly unzipping his jeans.

Spike paused, a little stunned and looked up into her eyes for the first time. Hers were closed, but he waited to see her reaction once she realised he’d stopped. It was obvious where this was leading, but her actually taking that step had knocked the wind out of him and he was left a little hesitant.

“Are you sure?” he asked breathlessly.

Buffy opened her eyes finally, but only for a second, she didn’t want to betray anything by looking at him. She just nodded, but the nod was eager and determined and gave Spike the answer he wanted clearly.

Her hand left him, but his quickly took over what she’d started and he pulled himself free of his boxers. Placing one last kiss on her bare stomach he stood up and pushed down his pants and underwear and stepped free of them, kicking them behind him with his feet.

His eyes never left her. He couldn’t move all of a sudden, seeing her ready, willing, open for him, half stunned and flushed from what he’d done, and half impatient for what he might do next. He couldn’t breathe; she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Buffy would normally have felt embarrassed at someone staring at her in that way, but he looked so awed at her body; he looked at her so intensely that she felt she couldn’t look away to hide her face, or the blush creeping into her cheeks. She felt tied to him, locked to his gaze, there was something pulling her, aching from the distance between them. Fighting it was useless, she surrendered; if he was going to just stand there, she’d carry this on.

It was part of the plan she reminded herself, but it was more than that now, she needed him. Suddenly not afraid she sat up on her knees and pulled her dress up all the way over her head, casting it aside and moving forward until she was knelt on the bed in front of him.

He couldn’t just stand there after that, her being so close, dressed in nothing but a black thong. She was like an unwrapped present sitting there ready for him to enjoy.

Buffy was contemplating what to do next, her head was swimming with all sorts of ideas but before she had time to pick one Spike had swooped in. Suddenly she was knocked backwards by his kiss, down on the bed beneath him once more. His hand cradled in her hair, forcing her lips to glue themselves to his, taking her breath away with his kiss.

She realised that every time their lips separated he was chanting her name, and it made her ache even more for him.

Finally Spike reached down, sliding his fingers beneath her thong, testing to see if she was ready, hoping to god she was. She was slippery and warm and tight and fuck he needed to be inside her. In one swift move he pulled her panties to one side, lined his cock up at her entrance and thrust into her.

Buffy made something like a “Nuuuuuh!” sound when he finally buried himself all the way. Spike pulled away and saw her eyes were scrunched closed, he worried for a second that she was in pain, but then when she wriggled a little it sent shockwaves all the way down his dick and he felt the need to close his eyes painfully tight as well. That’s when he realised she had just felt what he felt. Fucking amazing.

She opened her eyes eventually, when she got used to the feeling of him and he looked at her but stayed still inside her. She was glorious; her golden hair fanned out behind her and her body was flushed all over already. Her eyes were glossy, pleasure filled but pleading with him, and he knew for what.

For the first time he thought he saw understanding in her eyes, that they were finally feeling the same thing, finally wanting the same thing. And it was overwhelming, and it was breathtaking, and it was a million other things his brain couldn’t process.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when Buffy grabbed his biceps suddenly with her hot little hands. She used them as leverage to pull herself up and thrust further onto his cock. Spike almost growled, but he got the message, she wanted him to move. In her. Fuck. He couldn’t stop swearing in his head as he tentatively pulled out of her and thrust back in.

It felt so good he soon started moving faster, one time he went a little harder than he meant to, his control slipping, but she fucking liked it and gasped his name, and he was undone.

At some point they remembered they weren’t being careful and Spike pulled out with a curse word from him and a moan of protest from her. He found some condoms in the bathroom next door, after all it had been his at some point, and before she knew it he was back, spooning her from behind and whispering dirty words in her ear. His breath was hot on her neck as he ground his erection into her ass and reached around to finger her clit and tease her pussy, groaning when it reminded him how wet and open she still was from their previous fucking.

When she started mewling he whispered in her ear, “That’s it purr for me. I always told you you were a ‘kitten,’ my kitten.” When she started full on moaning and reached her hand behind her to clutch his head and grab his hair he lost it.

His hand left her centre, roughly grabbing her thigh and pulling it around and behind until it was hooked over his. This made a better position to sink back into her, deep and hard, and he did. He set a slow rhythm, so slow it almost killed him, but she was shaking it felt so good and that spurred him on.

When he felt himself about to come he stopped, rolled her onto her back, moved down between her legs and brought her off with his tongue first. While she was still dizzy he slid back inside her, on top of her again so he could look into her eyes when he came.

* * * * *

Buffy woke up in the early morning. She rolled off her back to see her alarm clock said it was precisely 4.37am. She bit her lip and turned her head to the other side, knowing what she would find, but still unprepared for it.

There was Spike, laid away from her, but she was glad she couldn’t see his chiselled face. His blonde hair was tussled, and she knew that was her fault, paths left by her wondering fingers, moving through his hair as he pleasured her, over and over.

She cringed at the thought of their unbridled episode. He’d been so free with her, so giving, she hadn’t expected it, and it was that that unsettled her, made her feel wrong inside.

She got up, she couldn’t stay in that bed with him a moment longer, the guilt in her stomach churning bile up into her throat. She slipped from underneath the sheets and ran as silently as she could into the bathroom, lifting the lid off the toilet and throwing up whatever she had left in her belly.

She swept a hand over her forehead, feeling it become clammy, and wiped her mouth with the other. She straightened herself up and turned to the sink, washed her hands and rinsed her mouth out with mouthwash. Taking a deep breath when she’d finished she finally glanced at the mirror she’d been avoiding above, and suddenly felt sick all over again.

She found herself almost unable to look at her own reflection. She didn’t want to, but she made herself not only look, but stare. She forced herself to see what was really looking back at her, to judge herself and her actions for what they were.

What had she done?

Spike was sleeping in her bed, probably happy, probably guilt free, totally unaware of her real motives; totally unaware that she’d whored herself out to him to keep him from hurting her, to keep him from getting rid of her. Totally unaware that she’d planned the whole thing, planned to seduce him, trick him into her bed and keep him there until he agreed to let her go. Now she knew she couldn’t go through with the last part. She couldn’t sleep with him again, knowing what it truly felt like to be worshipped by him, but what was done was done, and she couldn’t undo it.

When he’d come to her yesterday and told her things were changing she’d panicked. He wanted her to be scared of him, which meant no more talks, no more company, no more her and Spike. He wasn’t going to put up with her anymore. What did that mean? She’d been frightened, not that he’d get rid of her, although that was always a looming threat in her mind, but that her life here would be even more unbearable if things really did change.

She had to do something, and this had been it. But as she stared into her bathroom mirror, her knuckles turning white where her fingers gripped the edge of the sink, she felt wrong inside and out.

He’d made love to her, she hadn’t wanted it to be like that, but she’d felt it with every fibre of her being. They hadn’t fucked. But she still felt like a whore, and knowing how much feeling he had put into it, only made her feel worse about what had happened. She’d done something so terrible. She’d used her body to get what she wanted, to get him on her side again, and in doing so she’d played with his heart.

She didn’t really know now what she thought would happen, she couldn’t get passed this feeling she had, she couldn’t imagine how she hadn’t seen this coming, how she thought it could turn out any other way. There was something between her and Spike, she couldn’t deny it, and she shouldn’t have ignored it. Of course she’d feel this way after finally being with him.

Maybe she wanted to tie him to her; he’d said he wouldn’t let her wrap him around her finger anymore, maybe she wanted to prove that she could still manipulate him. Also he’d admitted he hadn’t got rid of her yet because he hadn’t decided what to do with her, which meant that he was about to. She had to do everything she could to get him on her side. She’d seduced him to save her life, that’s what she’d told herself. That’s how she’d planned to justify it to herself afterwards, but now all those reasons just seemed empty, maybe the truth was that she was just afraid he was slipping away from her and she didn’t like it.

She wanted to think it’d been out of desperation, but she’d planned it and executed it so perfectly she felt nothing but calculating. Her plan had gone too well, she’d fallen deep into it herself, and now she was stuck.

“Buffy?” she heard a half asleep voice call out from the other room.

When she came back in Spike was laid with his arm out on her side, as if he’d reached for her and found her missing. He seemed asleep even though she’d heard him say her name. When she hung back in the doorway he rolled over to face her, and did the worse thing he could have possibly done. He smiled.

“I think you should go now.” she said, though it felt like someone had punched her in the stomach when the words left her mouth.

His smile fell uncomfortably into confusion.

Buffy had planned to seduce him, to use him, but she couldn’t go through with it. Although she’d gone too far, it wasn’t unfixable. She’d slept with him, but she didn’t have to do it again. She couldn’t use him again, she’d tried on something that didn’t fit and it was time to take it off. It hadn’t been Spike that hadn’t fit, quite the opposite in fact, but to be with him this way, for her own gain, lying to him about why, that wasn’t her.

“You shouldn’t be here…We shouldn’t have done this, it was a mistake.”

Anger suddenly flushed through Spike, “Want to run that by me again, pet?” he said irritably.

Buffy felt like she needed to take a beat and a deep breath to stand firm enough to be this cruel; cruel to be kind. But she didn’t want him to see her internal struggle, so she didn’t hesitate in answering, “I said, ‘I think you should go,’ Spike.” Turning to her closet and opening it up for no good reason she closed her eyes and then continued more sharply, “And don’t call me ‘pet.’”

Spike didn’t have a clue what was happening. Last night, it had been incredible. It had been the sun, the moon, the earth and the sky to him. It had been life altering, something to remember, not something to be dismissed.

“But last night…”

She turned back to him before he could finish, “Last night, like I said, it was a mistake.”

“I thought we’d…”

“What?” she asked, interrupting him again before he could say anything to make her waver, “That we’d get up and read the newspaper together?...Or maybe you just thought you had free rain, think you could fuck me whenever you like now? Want a quickie this morning did you?...Sorry to disappoint.”

“Seriously, Buffy.” he said bewildered, “What the fuck is happening right now?” Was she screwing with him? Was this all a big joke to her?

“Just get out!” she screamed, frustrated that no matter what horrible things she said he wouldn’t go. It only made it harder.

Shocked by her outburst and by everything she’d said Spike realised she had gone off the reservation, or at the very least she was fucking with his head. Either way he wasn’t staying around for her girl interrupted shit. Seeing that she’d turned around to face away from him again he muttered a couple of choice swear words under his breath before leaving.

Buffy didn’t think he could slam her door any harder than he had done in the past until he left that morning, and she didn’t think her heart could break anymore than when she heard him call her ‘a fucking slut’ when he knew she could hear him.


* * * * *



Chapter End Notes:

Hope you guys enjoyed! And again, please review here and by all means ask me about updates, I didn’t always but now I reply to EVERY review so feel free to ask me anything, but if you can’t be bothered and just want update info go to my twitter (address on my profile) I rarely tweet about anything other than my story so you won’t have to sift through many boring life tweets to find something fanfic related!


Also I’m sure the Spuffy scene was unexpected, but its meant to be so…I didn’t want people to see it coming, because Spike didn’t see it coming…starting to see things more from his pov than Buffy’s. Hope that comes across!




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