[Reviews - 0]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 600 times

- Text Size +




Hello, I love you
Won't you tell me your name?
Hello, I love you
Let me jump in your game
The Doors – Hello, I love you

Buffy woke up with a headache worse than the one she got when she was infected by the mind-reading demon. Beer was definitely of the bad. In fact, she might shy away from the whole alcohol thing altogether. She risked opening her eyes for a fraction of a second, only to shut them tight again once she realized she was in her own dorm room, with Willow still sleeping in the other bed. Thank God for small miracles. Now if only she could get her body to cooperate and move, she might be able to go to the bathroom to wash off some of the hurt.
She tried to move her arms, only for the weight holding her down to shift slightly. Wait. That feeling wasn’t just beer induced exhaustion, it was…
Her eyes flew open and she took in her situation, despite feeling daggers embed themselves in her retinas. She was in her room, in her bed, dressed, but with a strange guy on top of her. A strange guy who was snoring lightly. Ohmygod.
What had she done after getting drunk, or whatever that was? Trying to remember only made the headache worse, so she let it go for the moment in order to focus on the more important part of getting to the bathroom.
After some wiggling and shuffling, she managed to slide the guy onto her bedspread—they’d been sleeping on top of the covers, so another point in the plus column as opposed to the mountain of minuses—and dash to the restroom. Once she was done inside, she brushed her teeth, washed her face, and brushed her teeth again for good measure. She would have taken a shower too, but she was too curious as to who the guy was to lose any more time.
In her room nothing had changed, so she planted herself next to her bed and got ready to wake up Mr. Sleeps-a-lot. He was kinda cute, at least. One more plus, but still dwarfed by the minuses.
Not knowing what to expect, she settled for poking him in the shoulder with her index finger. “Rise and shine, sleepy-head.”
The only reply was a grunt and her ‘guest’ turned away from her, cuddling her pillow instead. It was kinda adorable, although not what she wanted him to do.
“Excuse me, I think you’re in my bed and I’d like that to, you know, not be true anymore.” She poked him some more, this time lower on his torso, getting him in the ribs instead. The guy reacted by giving a startled yelp and batting away at her hands. Someone is ticklish. His eyes were wild as they roamed about, and then his gaze locked on hers. Pretty blue eyes.
“How’re you feeling, love?”
And he has an accent. Okay, so maybe her taste in guys was okay even under the influence, but that still didn’t mean she should ever have beer again. Ever. “I’m hung over. What happened last—” She checked outside only to find everything was dark. ”whenever?”
Mystery guy chuckled, and stretched out like a big cat. “From what Red said, the local watering hole’s something or other decided it was too much dealing with you coeds, so he put some enchanted beer in the keg which was supposed to turn the lot into prehistoric morons. Your friend, Xander, figured it out, and stopped it with help from another chap, Giles. Red was just about to go looking for you when we got here.” His eyes shifted to the bedspread. “That’s pretty much it.”
He was lying, or leaving some things out, and she dreaded finding out more. Still, better to know than to imagine. “So what did I do?”
“Well, you came into the coffee shop—it’s where I work, by the way—and were acting all ‘fire pretty.’ I thought it best to take you home, since I knew the address from the deliveries we do around here.”
Better, but there was still more. Also, her Slayer senses were going berserk, so there was possibly someone, or something, close by. She scanned the window, but couldn’t make out anything. “So you took me straight here.”
Out of the blue, an image of her tackling him in a playground rose in her mind. Oh God. Had she really done that? She remembered trying to get his pants off him and the frustration when they wouldn’t yield. With a squeaky voice, she asked the question she dreaded the most. “Did something happen?”
He opened and closed his mouth a few times. Finally, he sighed deep and started speaking. “You were very set on getting your way. I’d stopped in an abandoned playground to ask what was wrong and you… I’m sorry, I was weak.”
Oh God. She’d forced herself on him. Was he even here, in her room by choice, or had she restrained him somehow, her stone-age brain marking him as her, what, sex slave? “I’m so sorry.”
He looked confused. “What? No, I’m sorry. I should have never let it get that far. It’s just… when a pretty bird is dead set on blowing you, there’s only so much blood going the right way. Still, you weren’t in your right mind, so I’m to blame for that. I never should have gone down on you after that. I should have stopped you somehow and taken you home. I’m sorry. I just wanted to…” He looked at her in a way that made her heart skip a beat. “I wanted to make you feel good. At least once.”
“You wanted to put your mouth… down there?” She cast a worried glance over at Willow, but her friend was sleeping with her mouth open and a bit of drool could be seen out of the corner of her mouth. Nobody faked that.
“Of course I did. Tasting you was a revelation, it was one of the greatest experiences in my unlife.”
Only Faith had ever gone down on her, so she was at least partially pissed off she’d missed it. Had it been different with a guy? Was he better or worse than the other slayer? She shook off her lusty thoughts to focus on the problem at hand, such as what he’d let slip: unlife. Of course, as soon as she thought it, the memories came flooding back. Everything from the first sip of beer to the lullaby he’d sung to her while holding her in her bed. The part in between was confusing, but most of all it was scary.
The attraction she’d felt for him, the way her lust had built up to boiling in no time flat, how she’d felt the need to have him… She’d given him a blowjob while he had his demon face on. She’d done things with him while knowing, at least on some level, that he was a vampire. She was in her room, in her bed, with a vampire.
She scrambled to get away and automatically reached for a stake. The vampire in her bed didn’t move.
“Easy, love. I’m not going to hurt you.”
She snorted. “You’re a vampire, why should I believe anything you say?”
“Because I could have drained both you and your mousy friend over there dry a thousand times over today, but I didn’t. Shouldn’t that say something?”
“It says you suck at your job. Or don’t suck at it.” She shook her head in frustration. “You suck.”
“And quite well, as you seem to now remember.” He did a thing with his tongue behind his teeth that should have reminded her about the fangs he was hiding. Instead it brought a jolt of lust to her core. Ugh, that should so not be happening.
“You’re just a spring allergy waiting to happen.”
He moved faster than she thought him capable of, standing next to her all of a sudden, holding the hand she’d been searching for a stake with in an iron grip. He leaned in closer, so his breath tickled her skin when he talked. “Listen, Slayer. I’ve been serving you coffee and minding my own business for weeks. I’m not going to randomly start snacking on you and yours, so stop playing the bitch and let’s talk about this.”
She put all her slayer steel in her voice. “Let go of me.”
“Not until you promise to play nice.” He ghosted his free hand up her side. “I know that you can, and I’d really like to show you how nice I can play.”
Her mind went to a highlight reel of their oral encounter. Okay, who cranked up the heater? She couldn’t risk it though. With her free hand she found a stake on her bedside desk, so she brought it up as fast as she could and pointed it at him. Part of her wanted him to stop her, and that was what scared her more than the knowledge he’d had the perfect opportunity to make her his lunch.
He slapped the stake away from her hand. “You bitch.” He made a move as if he were about to lunge, then stopped, waivered, and spun around. He was taking big, gulping breaths.
“Buffy?” Willow was up and watching them from her bed.
“I…”
The vampire whirled around. “Look, you infuriating bint, I’ll let the stake slide, but just this one time. You ever try something like that again, and you’ll find out what I can really do.” He closed his eyes in an obvious attempt to reign in his temper. When he opened them again, his gaze gave her a shiver. “Name’s Spike, ring any bells?”
There was a half-formed memory trying to emerge, but she was so off-balanced with the emotional roller-coaster of the previous few minutes, that she couldn’t focus. The ever-present headache didn’t help either.
“Helped you grind old Bat-faces’ bones to dirt back in the day?”
How hadn’t she recognized him before? The weird vampire who came in, rocked her world, then left, along with her sorta-kinda-boyfriend. She’d studied his history after they’d left. The Whirlwind, the Scourge of Europe, his two killed Slayers, his over a century of devotion to Drusilla, and his intricate relationship with Angel. “You.”
“Yeah, me.” He straightened his shoulders, and all of a sudden he seemed more imposing. “I’m the Master of Sunnydale, and since the cards are on the table, I’d like to propose a truce.” He smirked. “You know I keep my word.”
It was getting too much for her throbbing head to process, so she sat down on her bed. “You want a truce.”
He nodded and for a moment he reminded her of an eager puppy. “Yes, that’s exactly it. Look, I know you know there are some supernatural commandoes operating on your watch, getting in your way, and robbing you of your slays.” He poked a thumb at Willow. “My guys saved your friend and her wolf from one of their patrols just a couple of weeks ago.”
That made Buffy call up on her energy reserves. She pinned him with a glare. “What do you know?”
“A lot more than you, I’d wager. I’m willing to share everything if you agree to the truce.”
Buffy chanced a glance at Willow, only to find her friend nodding in agreement. She remembered the event Spike mentioned. Willow had been a wreck, Oz had been caged because of the moon, and there were the bodies of three men dressed in night camouflage and with a whole slew of high tech gear dead in the crypt. Giles had shown up with a tranquilizer rifle, and she and Xander had carried the unconscious Oz to another crypt they knew could be locked. Giles and Anya had taken the almost catatonic Willow to Giles’s place where she’d told them of the weird fight that she’d witnessed. Buffy had staked out the crypt until another three-man team dressed the same as the dead guys had come to investigate. She’d been forced to leave when two more teams showed up, with a couple of four by four trucks and searchlights.
The Scoobies had tried to find out who they were, with little success, but apparently there was more to the story than a freak meeting under the full moon, as Giles had called it. “What are your terms?”
“Well, as the Master, I control, at least in part, all the vampires in the city. I also managed to get some demon tribes to help. I can tell my guys to stop hunting until the Initiative is taken care of, if you can promise to not attack my teams. I’ll give them some code word to tell you so you know they’re mine. Any other wankers you find attacking humans, have at them.”
It sounded good, maybe too good. She realized something, though. “What about the commandoes? Or anyone running into one of your ‘teams?’ Will your guys not kill them either?”
His smile was chilling. “The commandoes are fair game, and as for anyone stupid enough to show up in the middle of the night in a cemetery, or in the middle of the woods, well, we’ll just call them Darwin’s rejects and consider it a service to the gene pool.”
She thought about it. There would still be killing, she would still have to go out there and slay, and there was an added danger in the vampire-demon teams she’d have to let go. On the other hand she remembered Willow’s description of how close she and Oz had come to being taken to God knows where. “Deal.”
His predatory smile turned genuine and he rubbed his palms together. He sat down on the bed facing her and started talking. “See, there were these experiments done back in the day by some over-eager Nazis. I myself got tangled in the whole mess along with Angelus on a submarine headed for the States. Their plan was to use supernatural beings as soldiers for the Reich. The US Army must have gotten the paperwork thanks to the Dickless Forhead, and now they’re giving it the old College try themselves. Call it the Initiative, and their base is right under your feet, in an underground bunker. Their cover is the fraternity over at Lowell House, and some of their staff are teachers on campus. Maggie Walsh, your Psychology teacher is their leader, and her right hand enforcer is Riley Finn, her TA.”
Buffy’s ears started buzzing. What happened to the good old days of ‘see demon, slay demon?’ She would have to fight against humans alongside vampires. And not just any humans. “Riley talked to me a couple of days ago.” She felt a blush rising up in her cheeks. “He wanted us to go for a picnic.”
Spike roared. “No. You can’t go anywhere with that ‘just following orders’ git. If he realizes what you are...” He closed his eyes and shook once. He pinned her with his gaze again and al she could do was listen. “These people are trying to create super soldiers to fight for the fatherland. From what my sources say, there are experiments going on down there that would make Mengele look like amateur hour. Their soldiers are also enhanced, probably fed extract of demon with their ‘vitamins’ because they sure as hell aren’t normal human.” He grabbed her right hand in his left. “If they realize you’re exactly what they’re looking for – human with superpowers—they might start looking into how that is possible, using scalpels and other, uglier methods.”
“But I’m human.”
“They call us hostile sub-terrestrials, regardless of race, location, or intention. Makes them feel all superior, as the Nazis called all others Untermensch to justify treating them like garbage. What do you think they’ll call you?”
“Oh, Goddess.” Willow was white as a sheet, and Buffy had to wonder what stories she must have heard growing up. How many Rosenbergs had died by the hands of the people Spike was talking about?
She felt sick to her stomach. She didn’t even want to imagine he could be right, but then again, her instincts told her to trust him. “Okay, no picnics with the enemy, got it.” The corners of his mouth curved slightly upwards and she had to fight the impulse to kiss him. He was definitely interested, but she couldn’t let herself dwell on that. In fact, that reminded her of something else. “Speaking of which, whatever happened to Dru and Angel?”
He let go of her hand and seemed to draw in on himself. “It’s Angelus, love. Dru got rid of that pesky soul infestation he had, and they’ve ben bathing in the blood of innocents ever since.”
There was a lot more to the story, and it was clear he didn’t want to share, at least not at the time, but she had to prod him with one final question. “Why aren’t you with them, then?”
For the briefest of moments she could glimpse a well of sadness in his eyes, but as soon as it came, it was gone, replaced by the mask of the uncaring vampire. “Had twenty years of listening to the two of them fucking back in the day, I don’t need to add twenty more. I’m my own man, Slayer, best you remember that.”
“I won’t forget.”
They agreed to meet up the next day at Giles’s place, and he left holding his shorts up with one hand. Part of her wished she’d done a better job of ripping them, since she’d never actually gotten a good look at his ass. Bad Cave-Buffy.

Hello, I Love You lyrics © Doors Music Company





You must login (register) to review.