I Do!

by Dusty87

Summary:

Something blue makes them say "I do!"

Things unravel in a smutty hilarious spiral from there.

Notes:

• For veronyxk84.

This story is complete at Sunnydale After Dark, but I figured I'd finally bring it over to the Ao3 readers. I'll be updating every few days or so (or as I think of it) until this fic is complete. Thanks for reading! <3

Chapter 1

“Bloody fuck yeah, I do.”

Buffy giggled and looked into Spike’s eyes dreamily. “I do, too.”

His grin was devilish, his blue eyes gleaming hot. Based on how he kept biting the tip of his tongue as he looked at her, he seemed to want to slurp her up in her white gown and veil right then and there on the altar. Buffy had to admit that his mischievous predatory gaze and the way he looked in that tuxedo were giving her some dangerous thoughts of her own.

But they were in a place of God. 

Or maybe the government. She didn’t really know, and she didn’t really care.

Sounding remarkably low on caring himself, their graying officiant stated, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. Make sure you sign and pick up your license at the door, and… you may now kiss the—”

Spike grabbed her and pushed his tongue into her mouth before the officiant could finish. Buffy dropped her bouquet and clung to his face, kissing him back with a massive smile on her face.

She’d never been this happy.

“All right, all right,” a deep voice behind them said. “Congratulations. Move along now. Got others waiting.”

They broke the kiss and Spike glared indignantly at the man in the security uniform. With one flippant move, he stepped forward and swiped him against the plastered white wall.

“Spike!” Buffy looked down with dismay. “You stepped on my carnations!”

He ignored her, eyes locked on the other man. “How many times in your life you kiss your wife for the first time, mate?” He cocked his head to one side. “Hm? Go on. Bloody tell me. How many times?”

God, he made aggression so sexy. 

Buffy was distracted from her floral woes and the masculine confrontation by another veiled bride clearing her throat at the start of the red-carpeted aisle. She was looking at her husband-to-be with an impatient pout.

Spike was still happily intimidating the uniformed man who stood an entire head taller than him. Shooting the stranger a placating smile, Buffy took her new husband’s hand and hugged his arm. “Come on, honey. Let’s get our certificate and go somewhere more kissing-appropriate.”

“I’ll snog you when and where I bloody well please! Ain’t no one gonna interfere—”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s very romantic.” She leaned into him and whispered in his ear. “But don’t you wanna consummate this thing…” She kissed his earlobe and then whispered, “A…S…A…P?”

A little sigh escaped his mouth as his fury flipped to intrigue in an instant. “Right. Where do I sign?”

Buffy grinned proudly and locked her arm with his, leading them both out of the little mock-chapel to a tiled hallway where a woman sat at a table with a stack of papers with gold emblems on them. She turned one toward Buffy and Spike and pointed to the blank spaces at the bottom.

“Congratulations. Sign here,” she said curtly.

“This is so exciting, baby,” Buffy said, petting his arm as Spike signed the paper with a dramatic flourish. His handwriting was so loopy and big. “God, I’ve never been so happy in my whole life as I am right now.”

Spike kissed her smoothly and squeezed her ass. “You’ll take that back in an hour, pet.”

She bit her grinning bottom lip as he handed her the pen. Reading what he wrote, she laughed, “William Pratt? Your last name is Pratt ?”

“Yeah, and now so’s yours, bitch. So stuff the—”

“Do not call me ‘bitch.’” She used her stern eyebrows and held up one finger. “I am your wife . You do not under any circumstances speak to me like that, William.”

Leaning back with surprise, Spike slowly smiled. “Yes, ma’am .”

She couldn’t help it, she laughed. He grinned proudly at his accomplishment.

Happily— so happily— Buffy signed her name.

“And I’m not changing my name,” she added as she set the pen down.

“Whatever.”

The woman in charge of papers and pens tore the carbon copy off the top and handed them their sparkling new marriage license. Buffy hugged it to her chest.

“Let’s get outta here,” Spike said.

Still hugging the paper, Buffy looked at him sweetly. “Okie dokie.”

*****

They burst out onto the busy Las Vegas strip. It was nighttime, of course, but no city burned brighter.

“Wow,” Buffy breathed, looking around at all the commotion and neon. “It’s so… crazy. But beautiful. In a weird way.”

“It’s madness ‘n mayhem.” Spike took a long inhale. “And it smells rotten.” He moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. “But you, my little cake topper, you smell delectable . And are in fact beautiful— in a not weird way. And you glow brighter than all those gaudy, flashing lights put together.”

She giggled and kissed him. He made a little growl that made her go nearly limp leaning back against his hard, muscley chest.

“Mmph—” Buffy broke the kiss. “Do you remember us coming here?”

“Say ‘us coming’ again.”

“I’m serious. I remember being at Giles’ house, and then… poof! We were at that altar and you were in that tux with your little flower thingy and I was wearing this dress—”

“I like your dress.” Spike slowly outlined her body with his hands to demonstrate what his eyes were leering.

She smirked, letting herself be distracted. “I like your hands all over me.”

“Mmm… about that, sweetheart. Reckon we ought to find some place a bit more private.” He nuzzled his nose into her hair. “I have plans, you know. Evil, evil plans…”

“Oooh. You’re so bad , baby.”

Buffy let herself get lost in his kiss again. He spun her around this time so they were chest to chest. She could hardly breathe as the kiss escalated and escalated and—

“Okay,” she said, pushing him back. “That’s enough public grope-age. We need a room.”

“Right.” Spike looked around like a room would suddenly materialize before them. “Where doth my lady desire?”

She let out another giggle. Then excitedly, she pointed to the skyline. “Ooh! What about Caesars Palace ?” 

“Tourist trap.”

“Okay, how about that pyramidy one!”

“I don’t like points.”

“What about the one with the cute little Eiffel Tower? We can kiss at the top.”

Spike sighed tiredly. “Doth my lady believeth that I have a bloody note to my name?”

“Huh?”

He rolled his eyes, dropping the act. “Your husband’s skint. Might’ve married yourself up in the bedroom department, but wads of cash I have not.”

“Oh.” Buffy’s face fell. “Well, shoot. I don’t have any money. I’m a broke college student. I have a calling, not a paycheck.” She took her new husband by the lapels and looked up at him sadly. “How are we gonna… celebrate?”

Spike touched a finger to her pouty lip, which she gently bit. It caused a flush of lust to bloom in his eyes. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way, pet.” He pulled her in a little closer so she could feel how hard he was against her stomach. “And I’m feeling mighty willful.”

Totally sober, she still felt a little bit drunk when he looked at her like that. “Okay. Right. Me, too. Um…” She looked around. “So—”

“Newlyweds!” a bubbly blonde wearing a candy apple sequined dress approached and shoved a paper flier into Buffy’s hand. “Congratulations, you two, on your most special day! Gosh, you are just glowing and overflowing with love!”

Spike looked at the woman skeptically. “What do you want?”

“Well, my name’s Jill and I couldn’t help but notice your—” She cleared her throat. “ Affiliation .” She looked at Spike meaningfully, her own eyes flashing yellow.

His eyes narrowed. “How—”

“And I just had to share with you this amazing honeymoon opportunity that caters exclusively to the demonically-inclined!”

“Honeymoon?” Buffy perked up, adjusting the spaghetti strap of her wedding dress. She elbowed Spike in the ribs. “Honeymoon, honey.” She looked down at the flier in her hands. “On a… boat?”

“That’s right! That picture right there is of our state of the art, one of a kind, luxurious ocean liner . Just like our entertainment headquarters here in Vegas, this ship’s got casinos, shows, spas, and all the food and drink you could ever hope to enjoy! But with an exquisite— and UV-protective— view!”

Buffy frowned. “ The Mayhem ? Who wants mayhem out in the middle of the ocean?”

Jill batted the question away with her hand. “Just a little wink to our exclusive clientele and their unique… thirst for adventure!” She referred to her clipboard. “I can upgrade your room to a suite right now, and I’ve got a 10% off discount with our exclusive airline partner if you’re interested in booking flights. The Mayhem sets sail out of Cancun in three days if—”

“We don’t have any money,” Spike said bluntly.

Buffy felt sorry for Jill. She looked pretty crushed by that.

“Do you have any, um, newlywed specials?” Buffy asked hopefully. “Like, one free night in the honeymoon suite if you, um, kiss a lot?”

Jill stared and smiled politely. The silence was palpable as she ignored Buffy’s question entirely. Finally, she said, “So, I do hate wasting anyone’s time. That would be terribly rude of me— wasting someone’s time. No one loves a time waster! I’ll just leave you two to your… wedded bliss.”

“Wait.” Spike grabbed her arm and narrowed his eyes. “Mentioned you’ve got casinos here in town— demon casinos?”

“Yeah,” she said, with far less animation than she’d had a moment ago. “Mr. Teeth’s got a whole network of entertainment venues where vampires are perfectly welcome.” She pointed down the street. “Head that way and turn left at the Planet Hollywood . Follow the steps that go down and you’ll find the entrance to Mischief .” She added with a little too much attitude, “Though I must warn you. They do prefer the customers there to… have money. Or kittens.”

Spike smiled smugly. “Of course. You’ve been very helpful, Jill. Ta ta now.”

Jill walked away in her clicking heels.

“Kittens?” Buffy repeated, wrinkling her nose. “Why did she say ‘kittens?’”

Spike took her hand and kissed it. “Never you worry, pretty kitty. I’ve got an idea.”

Notes:

All credit to bookishy and her brilliant world-building for The Mayhem reference. If you haven't read Overboard! by now, what are you even doing? Fics with exclamation points are all the rage!

Chapter 2

Buffy felt conspicuous in her glittery white wedding dress.

She also felt conspicuous in a bustling casino that— judging from all the horns and extra sharp teeth— was overflowing with demons who on a normal night, she’d kill without a second thought. She would at least feel a whole lot better with something long and pointy in her hand.

That made her think of Spike. Her husband , Spike. Mmm…

He’d asked her to wait by the bar and now he was milling around the poker tables, chatting up strangers. He was all schmoozy and smiley and— wow— his cheekbones were just something else. How had she never noticed before?

She had no idea what the purpose of any of this was, but a bartender had handed her something pink, rimmed with sugar, and called it a wedding present. Buffy had thanked him, shrugged, and then sipped the fruity concoction through a little gold straw. It was her wedding night after all. She deserved something special.

And she had nothing else to do.

When Spike sat down at a green felted table, laughing merrily as the dealer began to whisk out cards, Buffy tossed her veil to one side and stomped toward him in a wave of outrage.

“Spike!”

He looked up innocently. “Ah. There she is, boys.”

“Not bad for a human,” one of them said.

Buffy shot the offender an icy glare, then turned her frustration where it belonged. “I have been standing over there for fifteen minutes!”

“Uh huh.”

She put one hand on her hip and waved her empty glass at him with the other. “It’s our wedding night, Spike! And you’re just hanging out, making friends, while I stand around all by myself!”

Spike sighed dramatically and held up one finger to the demons around him as he stood up. “One moment, please. I need a quick consult with my bride.”

The entire table groaned and Buffy rolled her eyes. 

“Now, pigeon—” he began as he guided her away from the table, his hand on the small of her back.

She smacked his chest. “I’m not a bird. I hate birds.”

“My beloved , I thought you wanted a romantic wedding night in one o’ those posh hotels you mentioned.”

Confused, Buffy said, “I— I do.”

“Champagne, strawberries, rose petals, that kinda thing?”

She hesitated. “Yeah…”

“Right then. That’s what I’m doing, love.”

The look on her face must have demanded further explanation.

Spike nodded back toward the table. “Good ole Jeff over there staked me—”

“I’m sorry. There’s a demon over there named Jeff ? And he staked you?”

“ — I play my cards right, I get the kittens. I get the kittens, I get the money. I get the money, we don’t consummate our marriage in a dank, dark alleyway. You see where I’m going with all this?”

Buffy looked around and folded her arms disagreeably. “They don’t eat the kittens, do they?”

Amusement flickered in his eyes. “You’re adorable. And hot when you’re angry.” He turned around to head back to the table, but she grabbed him and swung him back to face her.

She said sternly, “You better be good at cards.”

Beginning to smile, Spike lifted his chin like a challenge had been issued. “I am.”

“And this better not take all night.”

His smile grew. “It won’t.”

“All right then. You can go.”

“Kiss for good luck?”

Buffy rolled her eyes and smiled wryly, but went ahead and kissed him. And kissed him. And kissed him and…

“Bloody hell.” Spike pulled away, beaming. “With luck like that, I ought to try my hand at all the games.”

“Just go already.” She pushed him toward the table, doing her best to hide her proud smirk.

*****

Nearly an hour went by.

Buffy sat on a stool at the bar, watching Spike from a distance as she twirled a lime green umbrella between her fingers, carefully touching its wooden point. “I could kill half the guys in here with one of these little thingies,” she murmured to herself.

She didn’t know how to play poker. But the casino wasn’t so bad. People— even demon people— seemed fairly friendly here. She had been gifted a drink by someone or other any time her hands looked empty. She should hang out in a wedding dress more often. She wondered how patrolling might go…

But she tried to drink slowly because she didn’t want to be drunk on her wedding night. A shotgun Vegas wedding was one thing, but a totally plastered first night with her husband was another thing entirely. She would not be doing that.

Buffy had never thought of herself as a ‘wait ‘til marriage for sex' type. She certainly would never have pegged Spike as that sort either. But somehow, some way, that’s what had happened. And she wanted their first time together to be good. Amazing . Definitely not… pukey.

If his kisses were any indication, Buffy had a feeling Spike would be good. Like, way better than her awkward virgin sex with Angel and way way better than the passably okay time she’d had once with Parker. Stupid Parker. 

Buffy slurped up the rest of whatever she was drinking and sighed. She was pathetic. Her sex history was pathetic. Spike must have hundreds of years of sex under his belt, and here she was considering her sad tally list of two. Two sad, insignificant little tallies. 

What if she sucked at it? What if Spike didn’t enjoy sleeping with her, and she was now doomed forever to a sexless marriage she could never ever escape because her husband wasn’t even going to age, let alone die?! He’d always be young and hot, and what if Drusilla ever came back? Would he just ditch Buffy and run off with queen of the damned?

She clenched her jaw and flicked her little umbrella across the bar. She was having bad, stupid drinky thoughts and she needed to stop.

“Another drink, miss?” offered a waiter with a tray full of champagne.

Buffy stared at the bubbly gold offerings for a long moment, then shook her head. “No. I should…. No.” Determinedly, she said, “I’m saying no.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Feeling proud of herself, Buffy watched the waiter walk away and then she looked back over at Spike, her leg bouncing with agitation. He seemed to be having a terrific time. It was starting to piss her off.

Decisively, Buffy slid off her stool and carefully reoriented herself to the act of standing— in heels. She held her hands out to steady herself for just a second, then smoothed her dress and straightened her posture before walking very smoothly toward the poker table.

She stood behind Spike. He craned his neck to look up at her. “‘Lo, pet.”

Buffy examined his pile of poker chips, which did seem larger than everyone else’s at the table. Though they all had neat, colored stacks and Spike’s collection was more of a haphazard mess, so it was kind of hard to tell.

“Hi,” she said brusquely.

“Feeling impatient?” he asked. His tone was teasing, and she didn’t like it.

Buffy squinted and remarked sarcastically, “I can’t imagine why I would be.”

Spike shifted the cards in his hands against each other and smiled up at her. “Maybe I need some more luck.” He pointed at his lips. “Don’t you want to give me some?”

“Not if it means this game keeps going.”

“You are making the game take longer,” one of the players grumbled. He had deep red skin and a top hat with a little white flower on it. 

“Shut up, Jeff,” Buffy snapped.

“That’s not Jeff,” Spike corrected.

“Whatever!”

Spike arched one of his dark brows at her and curled a finger, come hither-ing her toward him. Buffy sighed with exasperation and leaned down so he could whisper into her ear.

“I know my baby girl can’t wait to be properly shagged for the first time in her life, and I sure as fuck can’t wait to do it. But , I’m in the home stretch here. Can’t bloody pull out now or it’s all for naught.”

Spike sealed his plea with a tonguey kiss that made her grab his shoulder for stability.

“ Fine ,” she said between clenched teeth as she stood back up.

“Oh!” Spike gestured for her to lean down again, which she did. He whispered in her ear, “And thank you for distracting my opponents with that stunning view o’ your tits you’re givin’ ‘em right now.”

Buffy jerked back upright, appalled. 

Spike only chuckled and flipped a red chip her way, which she actually managed to catch despite her indignation and slight inebriation. “Here, sweet pea,” he said. “Go find something fun to do.”

She glanced at the chip and then narrowed her eyes at him like they were in battle. 

“And make sure you bring that look with you to the honeymoon suite tonight,” Spike added lasciviously.

God, he sucked. She’d married a total jerk and he sucked!

He leaned back in his chair and winked at her.

A sexy, sexy annoying jerk.

Chapter 3

Buffy didn’t know how to play any of the card games, so she’d traded her meager chip in for some quarters and half-heartedly taken her half-empty bucket of change to the slot machines.

All the demons around her were sitting on their stools with a crazed but guardedly hopeful look in their eyes as they pulled the levers and tried their luck again and again. 

Buffy hadn’t realized there’d be so many kinds of slot machines to choose from. In fact, she was a little overwhelmed by all the many electronic bloops and bleeps, the clinky sounds of coins dropping into metal cups, and the overlapping musical tunes from the various machines which not-so-subtly informed their players whether they should feel trumpety triumphant or tubatasticly disappointed. Almost regardless of the outcome, everyone seemed to push another coin into the slot and have another go, the lifeless glaze in their eyes remaining remarkably the same.

Buffy bitterly trudged through the aisle. Everyone here made her feel like a loser. On her wedding day. But it was better than sitting at the bar getting more drunk while she watched Spike actually have fun. Yeah, she was already too drunk. Definitely way too drunk.

She found an empty stool and sat down.

There were instructions and rules on the machine, but she wrinkled her nose at them as she read the first line over and over again and still couldn’t seem to process the words. It seemed like a lot of text for what looked like a fairly simple procedure of inserting the coin and pulling the knobby thing.

She gave it a whirl and watched the wheels spin.

Horseshoe, watermelon, cherry. Two quarters dropped down.

Well, that was intriguing.

Buffy put in another quarter. Crown, six, BAR. She waited for the money to come, but apparently that wasn’t a winning combo. Maybe the BAR was bad.

She tried again.

Seven, cherry, seven. That must’ve been good! She earned back her money and then some.

Feeling intrigued, Buffy furrowed her brow and put another coin in.

*****

She had no idea how much time had passed.

“Slayer!” Spike was suddenly standing beside her, looking around wildly. “For fuck’s sake, you’re a hard bint to find.”

“I’m the one who looks human,” she murmured as she pulled the lever. “And is wearing a sparkly wedding dress and veil. What more do you want from me?”

“We gotta go, pet.”

“What?” Buffy met his eyes for the first time as she reflexively shoved another quarter into the machine. “I don’t wanna go.”

“Pardon?”

“Well, it’s just I’m on a roll here. And I think that if I just stay with this machine—” She paused to pat it. “I’m gonna be a big winner soon.”

“Oh, bloody hell. We have to go now , slayer. I, uh, had a little altercation with Jeff— and, well, everyone else at the table, including the dealer… and thus, this… entire establishment.”

Buffy raised one brow, but pulled the lever. Drat. Nothing.

She put in another coin. 

“What kind of altercation?”

Spike peered cautiously around Buffy’s machine. “The kind where they’d like to drag me out into the alleyway and express their feelings a bit better. We also probably shouldn’t show our faces here ever again. Now come on, lamb. Let’s move.”

“Hold on. Just… a few more…”

“ Buffy .”

“Hey! I waited for you!”

Spike groaned and ran a hand through his hair. “You are unbelievable.”

She scoffed and pulled the lever again. “Me? You’re the one who pissed all your stupid new friends off! Did you at least make the money?”

He opened his mouth and then closed it again. “Well, I did . But I, uh, had to bail. For… reasons. Only managed to nick this little one.” He opened his tuxedo jacket up to show the little black kitten inside. 

“Kitty!” Buffy exclaimed. “Aw. Can we keep it?”

“Not if you want the money ,” he said impatiently.

“Spike!” a voice called from behind them.

“Fuck.”

Buffy’s face twisted dubiously as she slid another coin into the slot. “He sounds mad.”

“Cheater! Let’s tear his head off!” another voice shouted.

“Ugh, Spike. What the hell is wrong with you? You were only winning ‘cause you cheated?”

Spike groaned. “Save your mocking. I was cheating ‘cause you rushed me! We need to go right bloody now, woman!”

“And who’s the rusher?” she snarked. “In case you forgot who you married, I am the slayer . I’m not intimidated by some ragtag group of scorned poker players. I do not run from any demons and— hey!” Her mouth dropped open as an arrow zoomed between them and knocked over her bucket of quarters. “That’s mine!”

Buffy stood up angrily. “You didn’t tell me they were armed with wooden pointy things.”

“Didn’t know,” Spike said, sliding behind her a bit.

“I swear to God, if these idiots dust my husband on my wedding night, I am going to be beyond pissed.”

“Damn right. You should kill them.”

Two demons with horns that curled above their ears appeared, one holding a massive crossbow. Buffy pointed at her spilled coins. “You knocked over my bucket.”

“Your husband stole our kitten, tried to steal more of them, and wasted three hours of our lives!”

Freshly re-irritated, she looked at Spike, who was rolling his eyes. “I’ve been waiting for three hours?!” She looked back at the other two and, in a flash of frustration, she knocked the crossbow up and out of the one’s hands, catching it in her own. She swiftly kicked the other demon with the white point of her high heel and watched him flail backward, knocking over three other innocentish demons who’d been sitting on their stools merrily pumping quarters into slots.

A vampire approached, his vamp face on full display.

“Jeff!” Spike greeted warmly, awkwardly hugging the squirming kitten to his chest inside his jacket. “Come to help out one o’ your own?”

“Yeah, right. You stiffed me!”

Hesitating, Spike said, “Right. Well, I can pay you back. Tomorrow. Just—”

“There is no tomorrow for you, Spike.”

Buffy pointed her crossbow at the other vampire. “I wouldn’t come any closer, Jeff.”

Jeff laughed as he took a step forward. “Is that so, little girl? Well—” 

She pulled the trigger and watched the arrow pierce him right in the heart.

Jeff dusted all over the red carpet. Spike whooped with glee.

“I warned him. Anybody else?” Buffy asked brightly, swinging the crossbow from side to side as she scanned their surroundings. “I’m feeling all fighty.”

“Oi!” Spike yelled as he fell to the ground. “Bugger!”

One of the original curly-horned guys had grabbed Spike by the foot and flung himself on top of him. The two of them grappled, rolling around on the quarter-covered floor. Buffy watched, afraid to let any arrows loose and hit the wrong idiot.

Out of Spike’s jacket, the coveted little kitten pounced away with a sharp meow, causing a fresh scramble of demons to run along in its tiny wake.

Buffy noticed a guy with antlers about to close in on the little cat and stuck her foot out to trip him. “Oops.”

She watched the rest of them shove each other out of the way and bluster off through the casino as the cat zipped between machines and feet.

Spike was lying on his back on the floor, breathing hard. 

Buffy shook her head, looking down at him. “I can’t believe you made me work on my wedding night.”

He stared back at her passively.

Buffy held out her hand. He took it and let her pull him up. 

Sighing with disappointment, Spike gestured in the vague direction of the escaped kitten. “Your wedding night just pranced on out the door.”

He looked so down about it that she couldn’t even maintain proper annoyance levels. 

“Help me pick up my quarters?” she asked.

Spike made a face. “You serious?”

Okay, she was annoyed again. “Yes, Spike! At least one of us made some money tonight!”

They looked down at the scattered coins. 

“Yeah,” he said, his tone patronizing. “Might be enough to buy yourself a whole ice cream cone.”

“Shut up, honey.” There was one quarter sitting on the little table beside her slot machine. Buffy idly picked it up and put it in the slot. “At least I didn’t cheat. My earnings were hard-earned.” She pulled the lever. 

“Looks terribly hard. You know what else is hard? And been hard for too long?”

Six, six, six.

Coins began to waterfall out of the machine. A flashing red light at the top spun wildly. Victory music played, making everyone around them stop and stare. Buffy half-expected confetti to fall from the ceiling.

“Spike, grab the bucket.”

“Did you just—”

“Grab the bucket, Spike!”

Chapter 4

Notes:

This story. I swear.

“I thought it would be more… palatial.”

Spike popped the cork from the champagne bottle and raised an eyebrow. “Disappointed?”

“ No .” Buffy watched him pour the fizzy liquid into two fluted glasses as she took off her veil and laid it on the bed covered in rose petals. “No one could be disappointed by all this.”

She moved to the glass door by the balcony, looking out at the shimmering Vegas skyline. They’d gone to Caesar’s Palace after all, because why not? After seeing how much money Buffy had won, Spike had been so happy about the prospect of sex he hadn’t protested at all.

He handed her one of the glasses and lifted his own. “Cheers, wifey.”

Buffy bit her lip and grinned, clinking her glass against his before taking a bubbly sip. “Cheers, hubby.”

Spike made a low sound in his throat. He was eying her with that hungry look that made her feel like a freshly-opened box of chocolates. 

His tuxedo bow was gone and the top buttons on his shirt were unbuttoned. She touched the skin peeking out and asked, “What happened to your bow?”

“Took it off after a few hands. Too stuffy. Not me at all.”

“Yeah, I guess not. So why were you wearing it in the first place?”

Spike shrugged one shoulder. “Can’t say I recall. Everything prior to the sight of my luminous blonde bride, standing before me all in glittering white is a bit of a blur.”

Buffy took another sip of champagne and smiled. “Everything?”

“Oh, yeah. Would’ve forgotten my own bloody name ‘cept you keep yelling it at me.”

“Well,” Buffy said, mischief in her eyes. “It’s a… pretty yell-able name.”

“Bloody right,” he murmured, wrapping his free arm around her and kissing her— no, devouring her with his mouth. He tasted like champagne. He made her heart skitter scatter. And he gave her no chance to breathe. She hadn't felt this intoxicated all night, which was saying something.

When the kiss ended, she was panting for air and aching with need. Spike took the glass from her hand and carefully set it on the table with his. Then, wordless, he grinned at her and their mouths crashed together again.

He flung off his own jacket and then she could feel his hands fumbling with the back of her dress, searching desperately for clasps to unclasp or a zipper to unzip. He kept making these deep sounds of desire, of satisfaction, of both. Every little noise rumbled out of him and down her own throat, into her stomach, then lower, lower… God, he was so—

“I might be bad!” Buffy announced, breaking sharply out of the kiss with her hands on his white shirt. She batted her eyes up at him. He seemed to need a moment to comprehend that they weren’t kissing anymore. “At the… sex.”

He blinked and shook his head, refocusing. “Impossible.”

“Very possible. No one’s ever, um…”

Spike narrowed his eyes. “No one’s ever what?”

“Uh.” She smiled nervously. “Wanted a second… time.”

He stared at her for a long moment, thinking. He traced one hand down her bare arm, making her shiver. “Christ. You really are a fresh flower, aren’t you?”

“Huh?”

He bit his tongue and looked at her with new intrigue. “Why, you’re nearly virginal.”

“I— I don’t think you can be nearly… um, that.”

“You are.” Spike was grinning now. He kissed her neck, sucking gently at the flesh. Buffy exhaled with bliss. “And I like it. Makes you seem all innocent and corruptible.”

She moaned in response, without knowing why. Just the thought of him and his seedy… corruption. “It’s, uh, it’s just the dress. False advertising really.”

“Guess we’ll have to take the dress off then. To really solve this puzzle.”

Shyly, she said, “Guess so.”

Slowly, Buffy turned around and looked at him expectantly over her shoulder. He looked ravenous.

“Do you know how to do the— the buttons?”

Spike smirked as his fingers got to work. “Had a bit o’ practice. Taken off far more complicated dresses than this one in my day.”

“Oh. Right,” she said softly, looking out at the big city again. “Of course you have.”

He shifted to her side and whispered in her ear, “Never off anyone so pretty, though. Never off my very own gorgeous bride.”

Buffy felt herself blush. He really could send her through the entire spectrum of emotions in about twelve seconds.

Before she knew it, he was sliding her spaghetti straps down her arms and peeling the top of her dress down. She jerked it back up to cover her breasts with a hasty, “Wait, wait, wait.”

She turned around. His head was cocked expectantly. “Yes?” 

“Um. I— well…” Buffy smiled anxiously. “God, you look good.” 

Spike grinned. He made disheveled look so perfect. His hair was all out of place from her fingers, his shirt half-tucked, his buttons hardly buttoned. When had that happened?

His hands went to the next button on his shirt. “Feeling nervous, petal? I’ll go first.”

Buffy watched him undo one of the black buttons. Almost unconsciously, she put her hands over his and pulled them down. His eyes met hers curiously. She gave him a slight smile and then began to carefully undo each button herself.

He smiled warmly. “You are a wonder.”

When she got to the bottom she put her hands on his muscled abdomen. Slowly, she drew her hands upward, feeling all the ridges of him. Spike shuddered with bliss.

Then she carefully removed his shirt, eyes on his enchanted ones. She’d never felt so desired in all her life. It made her dizzy.

“Take off your dress now,” he said in a no-nonsense voice.

So she did. 

She’d never done anything like this before. She’d done tentative, lights off, under the covers nakedness— not standing in her panties and heels in a lit room in front of the sexiest man she’d ever seen nakedness. 

Instantly, Spike dropped to his knees like all ability to stand had vanished at the sight of her. 

“Oh,” she said with surprise, looking down at him.

He placed his hands on the outside of her thighs, reverently, and looked up. “ Christ . Don’t know what a goddess you are, do you? No bloody clue.”

Buffy didn’t know what to say, so she just waited and smiled and then gasped when he kissed her through her underwear.

“Oh!” She gripped his shoulder for stability. 

“Fuck, I want this sweet slayer cunny so bad.”

He sent a tremor up her legs as he slid his fingers along the silky white fabric. “ Spike .”

“Yes, my tulip?” He put his mouth on her again and this time he sucked.

“Ahh!” Buffy reached behind her for a wall or furniture or something stable to grip.

His hands were roaming up and down her smooth legs. “Bloody, bloody hell. Love these legs. Want you to wrap ‘em ‘round my head while I devour you.”

Why did everything that came out of his mouth sound like dessert? Dirty dessert.

Buffy stroked his hair. “Baby, I wanna look at you.”

He was mouthing at her sex again— and using a lot of tongue. He lifted his eyes to hers without stopping. The sight was almost unbearably hot as spikes of pleasure shot through her every nerve.

“I— I— mean kiss you. I want to k—”

She asked and she received. Spike stood and smashed his mouth to hers, cupping both her cheeks as his tongue danced violently with hers. She reached for the zipper on his pants, failing to get it down fast enough for him as he took over and unzipped himself. 

As they kissed, Buffy lifted one foot and reached behind her, struggling with the strap on her shoes.

“Leave ‘em,” Spike murmured between kisses, guiding her closer to the bed. “You look stunning. And—” He took her veil and placed it back on top of her head. “Like a bride.”

“I’m your bride,” she said coyly, giving her veil a little flip.

“Yes… you… are.”

Buffy shrieked happily with surprise as he scooped her up and kissed her soundly, holding her cradled to his chest as their mouths warred. 

Then he tossed her onto the rose-covered bed and he pounced.

*****

When her husband— her gorgeous, evil, passionate husband — entered her body for the very first time, Buffy felt positively, wonderfully complete.

Their eyes met and she watched his dark brows twitch like he was having a similar earth-shattery experience just from the feel of her and their rightness. He stilled and he stared at her, intrigued. But then he touched the side of her face, very gentle, and slowly he smiled.

Returning the smile, Buffy lifted herself off the pillow just enough to kiss him. Her lacy veil skimmed the bare skin of her shoulders. She wrapped an arm around Spike’s neck and arched her back—

And like a racehorse, he was off.

“Ahh!” Buffy cried as he plowed into her. She’d been so wet and so ready for this for so many hours now that it felt amazing from the start. Like something that had been aching inside of her was finally being soothed.

Spike growled in her ear. He kissed her neck and, remarkably, Buffy had the passing thought that it might feel really good to be bitten by him. 

But she was beyond words right now.

“Spi— Spi— oh, God! Spike .”

“Ohh, fuck yes, buttercup. Fuck, you feel incredible. Strap those deadly legs o’ yours ‘round me, baby.”

She did. And he lifted her by the ass, forcing himself into her with the dark power of a vampire again and again as she moaned louder and louder. 

This was nothing like her other times. This was brutal and beautiful and… primal.

Buffy was shocked when she orgasmed so quickly.

From the way her voice hit a new octave of wowness, and from the way her body seized and went deliciously limp, surely Spike understood that’s what was happening.

But it was like he didn’t understand. She was trying to gulp down air, but she hardly could for how aggressively he was smothering her mouth with his. His rutting never slowed. In fact, it might have picked up. It was almost too much. All her senses were on fire and her heart was thumping wildly as he mumbled breathlessly about her slick pussy and how exquisite a morsel she was. His face was all steely with a warrior’s determination. His biceps were all ripply from how he held himself over her, and—

She peaked again. Loudly. And this time, so did he. 

Spike collapsed on top of her, and for a moment they were both still. For a moment, her body was more at rest than it had been in her entire life. Her limbs were all noodles and he had boiled them to goo.

“Wow,” she exhaled. “I never…”

He lifted his head to hear more, but his eyes were so blue…

“You never…?” he prodded.

Buffy was lost in the blue. “Huh?”

Spike grinned and did that tongue bitey thing he was so into lately. “Shagged senseless, huh?”

“I… no. I… just.” Buffy smiled and knocked her knee against his thigh. “Shut up.”

“Can’t. You like it when I whisper little dirties in your ear.”

“Or maybe I just really like making love to my sweet, sweet husband.”

Spike snorted and kissed her through his chuckle. He reached up and took the veil from her head, tossing it to the floor. “Don’t need that anymore. You’re a real woman now.”

“Spike, I told you before, I’ve—”

“Ever like that?” he asked confidently.

“Well, no . But—”

“Right then.” He lifted himself up and kissed each nipple, then her belly button as he slunk down her body. “Time for round two.”

“Oh, there’s… there’s more?”

Spike delicately bit the inside of her thigh and grinned at her.

Buffy smiled tentatively. “I’m good with more.”

Chapter 5

It must’ve been round twenty-something. 

Buffy had lost track of the rounds. It turned out that there were a lot of ways to have sex. It turned out that vampires— or maybe just Spike— had the stamina of a steam engine. And it also turned out that Buffy wasn’t so terrible at the sexing as she’d thought. At least that’s what Spike told her. With and without words.

Her confidence was growing every second.

Spike told her she was a goddess. Spike told her she was a minx. Spike told her she was a dish of dark chocolate pudding with whipped cream and cherries and he was going to enjoy spoonful after spoonful after spoonful.

He was making good on that spoony promise. Currently, she was pretty sure her ass was the pudding and his tongue was the spoon. 

“Spike,” she breathed as she fell forward onto her stomach after the pleasure-fueled shudders raked through her once more. “I— I have to stop. I…” Her face was pressed against the luxuriously smooth sheets and Spike’s hand was moving up and down her spine. “I need… sustenance.”

He flipped her over abruptly, making her loudly “oof!” as her back hit the mattress.

“I could go for some sustenance of my own,” Spike said, eying her neck. He grumbled,“Bloody chip.”

Buffy was too satiated to be bothered by this remark. Should she be bothered by this remark? 

“I’m hungry ,” she said.

“Lemme stuff your bitty mouth then,” Spike said, slinking up her body. He murmured darkly, “Again.”

She rolled her eyes and bit playfully at his neck, which he, of course, liked very much. “Feed me— real food — and you can stuff me any which way you like, baby.”

“Ohh fuck.” He growled and kissed her fiercely. When he pulled back he smiled. “Suppose I could do with a quick recharge anyhow. A brief intermission if you will.”

Buffy kissed him tenderly and ran her hands up and down his strong arms. “Intermission? As in… halfway? As in… refill the popcorn?”

“You only get a first night once.”

Buffy sat up, her whole body feeling loose and floaty, and quickly found her way into Spike’s lap, nuzzling into his neck. “I hate to break it to you, honey, but the sun came up like an hour ago.”

Spike jerked his head toward the window where sun was indeed pouring inconsiderately onto the floor, though safely far enough away from the bed. “Bloody hell.”

“Don’t worry. I would’ve closed the curtains before you went poof.”

He smirked. “What a way to go, though.”

Buffy matched his face and kissed him again. She pressed her forehead to his. She whispered reverently, “It’s been amazing. You’re amazing. The way you— and then how you— God, it’s just… it’s all so good. I’ve never felt anything so easy and right and…”

They got lost in another dreamy, lingering kiss.

“I love you,” Spike declared brazenly. 

He said the words like each one was a bullet firing at her heart. He knew the power and the danger of love and he was aiming it all at her.

Buffy touched his cheeks with both hands and carefully scanned his fierce eyes. “I love you, too. I do.”

His eyes popped with a new kind of light she hadn’t seen since this magical night had begun. There was something new in them. Something beautiful. Something blue.

“Spike,” she whispered.

His voice sounded wispy. “Yeah, love?”

“Let’s order room service.”

*****

With only a sheet around his waist, Spike pointed a strawberry at her mouth, keeping it just beyond Buffy’s reach. His eyes were glittering devilishly. “Open up, kitty cat.” 

Buffy giggled and separated her lips, leaning forward over the bed where they’d chosen to enjoy their feast upon. Their food feast anyway. The other feast kind of happened on the bed, off the bed, on the bed…

“Waaaait…” he murmured. Slowly, seductively, he pushed the berry into her mouth with one finger. “Don’t you bite,” he teased. Buffy licked her tongue all around it, making a real show of it as she batted her eyelashes at him innocently. Spike’s own mouth opened in response and his eyes narrowed as he exhaled roughly. “Now.”

She bit the fruity flesh and chewed, grinning and covering her mouth with one hand as if there were any room left to be demure with this man. Her husband couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. He was so blatantly infatuated. It felt amazing.

After swallowing the strawberry, she said in her sweetest voice, “Thank you, baby.”

He made a little sound of pleasure and then kissed her again. “Eat all the fruit you like, gumdrop. Makes you taste all the more decadent. Fresh and sweet and… oh, what’s the word?”

“Fruity?”

“Might be it.” Spike smirked and took a long sip of mimosa from their shiny silver tray of breakfast delights.

“Well,” Buffy said, grabbing silverware and securing the sheet around her torso before putting a plate in her lap. “I hope these waffles don’t make me taste all waffley.” She shrugged. “Or maybe I do. Who doesn’t love waffles?”

She dug into the delicious-looking plate covered in whipped cream and strawberries. “Mmmm…” 

Spike was watching her with apparent amusement.

She sipped her own mimosa, took another bite of her breakfast and made another satisfied sound.

“Thought you only made those noises for me,” Spike commented coyly.

“For you…” Buffy nodded as she cut another piece and held it up with her fork. “And for waffles .”

“Noted.”

“Preferably morning-after-the-best-sex-of-my-life waffles. But, ya know, all waffles are of the good.”

Spike was smiling at her as he popped a grape into his own mouth and chewed it up. “You’re perfect.”

“Uh huh,” she agreed brightly.

“I just want to eat you.”

“Depending what you mean by that, you’re very good at it.”

Spike laughed and pointed at her. “See. That’s what I mean. You’re perfect .”

“Ego, party of two,” she murmured, leaning forward to kiss him. His lips came to hers like magnets that knew they belonged.

When the kiss ended, Buffy took another bite of food. Spike continued staring at her. “I should’ve known I’d love the slayer. Should’ve known it from the start. Maybe I did.”

“I dunno about that. You seemed pretty wrecked when Druzilla dumped you.”

Spike hitched at that, but shook it off. “Well, yeah . But I still think…” He sighed. “Something in my gut was always drawn to you.”

“Hm.” Buffy eyed him keenly. “Something in mine told me to kill you.”

“Well, that, too.”

“It told me you were dangerous. It told me you were… different.”

Spike raised his eyebrows like a challenge. “Different how?”

Carefully, Buffy placed her plate back on the tray and closed the slight distance between them, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Like you could ruin everything.”

He cocked his head to one side and hugged her hips with his hands. “How’s it feel to be ruined, pet?”

She pretended to think about it and then smiled. “Spectacular.”

Food forgotten, they kissed.

*****

They hadn’t taken the time to move the tray safely to the floor. It simply seemed like something they just didn’t have time for. Not when his body was there and her body was here and they had things to do.

So that’s how they’d ended up on the floor, Buffy riding Spike at a merciless gallop.

“Yeah, baby. Fuck, yeah. That’s my tart little cherry. Look at those bloody tits o’ yours. Bounce ‘em for me. Oh, yeah, just like that . Perfect . You’re perfect, Buffy. Perf…”   

The cheeks of her ass stung pleasantly from his sharp slaps of encouragement. She in turn encouraged this new and exciting encouragement, and so the game went on as Buffy ground her body against his and groaned and cried and crested and eventually fell blissfully limp into her new husband’s arms.

God, marriage rocked.

Spike lifted her up and leaned her over an armchair. “You aren’t done, precious.”

“Ahh!” Buffy screamed as he thrust inside of her in one burst.

“Or at least I’m not.”

She clung to the chair desperately. He was so deep inside her and he wasn’t holding back at all anymore. It was just slam after slam after slam. “Oh, God, Spike!”

He chuckled evilly and slapped her bottom again. Buffy felt chills spread across her flesh as she gulped in every breath and dug her fingers into the fabric of the chair. 

“Take it. Take every inch, my dear! My sweet honeysuckle slayer, how you love it. I know you love my cock in your dripping wet cunt. You dirty, naughty little minx, you—”

“Gahhh! Ohhh! Spi—” 

Buffy broke the chair. Or Spike broke the chair. They broke it somehow and Spike didn’t miss a beat. He snagged her by the shoulders and smashed her up against the nearby wall before pummeling in again.

“See how bad you are, slayer? So. Bad .” He bit down on her neck, fangless but still hard.

Buffy groaned and reached a hand behind her wildly, finding only muscled thigh to grip a hold of. “Fuck me, Spike. Ohhh, God. Fuck me so hard! Please! I love it. I love you. I want it.”

He pulled out of her and Buffy whimpered pathetically in response. 

“What do you want, baby? Say it.”

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.”

“What do you need ?” he growled in her ear, wrapping her hair around his fist and tugging her head back. “What do you need from your strong, strapping husband?”

“Ohh, I need your cock. I need it in me. Please, baby. Please just give it to me. Now, Spike.”

Spike was having too much fun with this. “ How do you want my big cock in you, slayer? Want me to push it in, real nice and slow-like? Or do you want me to pin you to the wall with it?”

“For fuck’s sake, Spike! Don’t be an asshole! Just—”

“Asshole, huh? Brilliant.”

“What? No! That’s not what I s—” Buffy put her palms on the wall. “I— I mean that’s not what I meant… But, uh… Well…”

Spike laughed dangerously, running his hands all over her ass, caressing it, kneading it, and generally making her shiver. “Don’t worry, peach, I’ll go gentle. You know, at first.”

Buffy could feel her heart racing as she considered it. His tongue and fingers had certainly felt good… down there.

“It’s adorable you’re nervous,” he said, biting her shoulder and stroking her clit as he waited for a more responsey response.

“I— um… I’m not nervous .”

“Haven't led you astray so far, have I?”

“No…”

Damn him. It would feel amazing. Everything he did felt amazing. There was just part of her that felt like it was wrong or weird or something. Not very romantic. And kind of… wrong. Yeah. Sinfully, deliciously… wrong .

“Okay,” she said with a little smile, turning around and kissing Spike’s cheek with her back pressed to the wall.

He grinned and bit down on the tip of his tongue. “I knew you were the perfect wife.”

“Don’t you forget it.”

“I could never.”

And that was the moment when everything changed.

Notes:

HERE WE GO

Chapter 6

He was still Spike. She was still Buffy. But suddenly she was no longer this Buffy.

And she could see in those blue eyes of his that Spike was feeling exactly the same way. Confused, alarmed, totally upside down and sideways about everything.

Buffy began breathing hard as she stared at him, stunned and naked— he was naked, she was naked, they were both very very naked and standing alarmingly close together! She was trapped between the wall and Spike’s nakedness and how the hell had this happened?!

Unfortunately, she remembered exactly how it had all happened. All the different and surprising ways in which this had… happened. It was the crucial ‘why’ part of the equation that seemed to be missing.

She shoved Spike and his unabashed nakedness away from her, hard. He tumbled over a table. 

“Bloody—!”

Buffy marched past him as righteously as someone naked who had just been begging to be fucked in the asshole could march. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…” Hands shaking, she snatched a fluffy white bathrobe from a hook on the wall and wrapped it around her, covering up every inch of skin she possibly could. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…” She took the other robe— his and hers!— and chucked it at Spike. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God .”

The robe hit him in the face. “Oi! Slay—”

She went into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind her. 

Hands braced on the counter, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was everywhere and her skin was flushed and rosy, makeup smudged around her eyes. Her neck was peppered with bite marks. She dared to open up her robe a bit, seeing hickies all down her chest and over one breast. She jerked the robe shut before she could inspect further and be horrified by the other one.

To mirror Buffy she declared, “You are a slut— a stupid, stupid horny… out of your freaking mind… ho-bag !” Buffy ran her hands through her hair and tried to calm her breathing down at least.

This was worse than when The Master had killed her.

This was worse than every bitch move Faith had ever pulled.

This might even be worse than killing Angel. Oh God, what if Angel found out? What if anyone found out?! Spike was going to tell everyone with his big fat stupid mouth and that meant Angel was definitely going to find out and oh God!

There was a small hairbrush wrapped in plastic on the counter. She tore it open and began angrily picking out knots from her sex hair.

The door burst open and Spike sauntered in. Robeless.

Buffy whirled around, pointing her hairbrush at him. “What the hell are you doing?! This is a bathroom.”

“Uh huh.”

“You know, a bathroom! Traditionally a place of privacy and sometimes a place of refuge from one’s sudden horrifying circumstances!”

Spike arched one brow. “So all that what’s-mine-is-yours prattle was just rubbish?”

“Yes!”

He scoffed. 

“And put on some clothes!”

He hesitated. “So, uh… what we were discussing before… that’s off the table then?”

Buffy’s brow furrowed as she tried to remember what he could possibly be talking about.

He stepped toward her and smiled a little before giving her bottom a quick pat. “ You know .”

“Oh my God, Spike!” Buffy punched him in the nose and threw her hairbrush at him.

He groaned loudly. “Well, fuck! I don’t know!” Touching his nose to see if she’d broken it, he grumbled, “Had to bloody well ask didn’t I?”

“You did not have to ask! Oh my God. Oh my God. Ugh! Gross! You are gross! Oh my God!”

“Would you stop bloody saying that? Perhaps you should be thanking God for leading you to this holy cornucopia of shagging and blissful matrimony you find yourself in.”

Buffy laughed bitterly and clasped her hands in front of her chest as she exclaimed with all the sarcasm she could muster, “Oh, yes! This was, without a doubt, a real coming to Jesus moment in my life.”

“Sure came to someone,” Spike sneered with a wink. 

Buffy pointed to the door and snapped, “Get out.”

“No.”

“Get out! I hate you! Get out of this bathroom! You are the most infuriating person— thing — I have ever met! Go away!”

“So you’re just planning to hide in here forever?”

Buffy held her hands out, blocking her view of Spike’s… parts. “Yup!”

Spike rolled his eyes. “And are you also planning to forget about the fantastic ten hour shagathon we just experienced?”

“Definitely! And it was six hours. Max.”

He mocked her with his falsetto voice, “Fuck me, Spike! Fuck me so hard!”

“Shut up! Shut up!” Buffy turned to the marble counter beside her and started flinging little shampoo bottles at him with every “shut up!”

Spike swatted them away and roared forward, grabbing her wrists and bracing her against the counter. She immediately jerked her hands from his hold and crossed her arms over her chest, turning her head to the side and cringing internally at how her body absolutely lit up with ecstasy from his proximity.

“Stop. That,” he said.

“You stop it,” she murmured like a five-year-old.

Buffy stared at the strange sight of herself in the mirror, alone. She looked so alone. Unhappy and alone. Five minutes ago, she’d thought she would never be alone ever again. She’d been happy. Freakishly happy about this impending life with her mortal enemy— her murder-loving, chipped freak of nature… sex god extraordinaire mortal enemy. It wasn’t fair that now she knew how amazing he was at sex. It wasn’t fair! 

“What did you do?” she asked quietly, eyes on the mirror so she didn’t have to really see him.

“What did I do?”

“Yes!” she responded between grit teeth. “How did you make me…? How’d you make me do all those things? I swear this is your evilest, lamest scheme yet! You claimed you wanted my help and then you went and did this!”

“Hold those sodding horses.” Spike ducked his head and turned her chin to force eye contact. “You think I did this?”

Buffy smacked his hand off of her face. “There’s no other explanation!”

“Oh, really?” He snorted. “God, you are an insufferable bitch. I didn’t do fuck all here. You think I wanted to marry you? Dream on, slayer. I’m a vampire. Why the bloody fuck do you think I’d want to marry anyone, let alone you ?” 

Surprisingly stung by his words, Buffy pushed him away harshly, wondering in the back of her mind why she’d let him stand so close to her for so long in the first place— naked. Damn it, he was still so naked .

“You didn’t do this?” she asked, her voice cracking.

“You need your ears checked, slayer? Know your vocal cords work just fine, but—”

Buffy yelled, “And we are back to the vital ‘get out!’ theme of this conversation! I can’t stand to even look at you right now. You’re a pig, Spike. You’re a horrible, horrible pig. And even if you didn’t make all this happen, you took advantage of it. You took advantage of me and whatever crazy spell drug we were on!”

“That’s bollocks and you know it!” Spike pointed at her accusingly. “We both wanted every bloody moment. You were soft putty in my hands. You were literally on your knees begging for my cock in your mouth like a little—”

“Finish that sentence and I will kill you right now, Spike, I swear to God. I am caring less and less about your little handicap.”

Spike narrowed his eyes, but seemed to sense that she truly was on the verge of staking him and being done with this nightmare.

“Fine. Be a stuck up bitch all you want,” he said, backing up and out of the room. “I expect nothing less. But don’t lie .”

This time he slammed the door.

*****

Buffy took a long, hot, much needed shower.

It didn’t do much to erase her visceral memories of the night, but at least the water hid her panic tears and made her thighs less sticky. 

Exhaustion was taking over. Spike had kept her awake and pushed her body to its limits all night long, and the emotionally brutal highs and lows of the past twelve hours were catching up to her fast. 

She brushed and dried her hair in a daze. She used the expensive facial moisturizer sample from the little glass bowl and she slid back into the fluffy white robe, having nothing else to wear except a wedding dress that she would absolutely be barbecuing the second life went back to its regular level of insanity.

Finally, she ran out of things to do and came out of the bathroom.

Spike was dressed, thank God. He was sitting at the table with his black pants and white shirt on from the day before. The shirt was even a little bit buttoned.

Buffy couldn’t help staring dubiously at the plastic container of blood he was sipping from with a black straw.

He looked up mid-sip. “Bribed the chap who came to collect our trays.”

She had no response because ‘Well, at least you didn’t eat anyone’ felt like the wrong thing to say. So did ‘Your food is not food. It’s blood and it’s disgusting.’ Everything felt like the wrong thing to say. 

So she ignored him and went to the bed. The bold midnight blue comforter and satin sheets were all twisted and askew. She sighed and straightened it up, all the while feeling the eyes of a vampire on her back.

“Never seen you without makeup before,” Spike commented airily.

Buffy glared at him and crawled under the sorted covers. 

“What? You just look different.”

“Stop talking.”

His eyes rolled. 

“Pull the curtain, would you?” she asked, resting her head on a pillow and closing her eyes.

“You’re going to sleep?”

“I am tired, Spike. Sleep is what we of the living do.”

“I sleep .”

“Whatever. Pull the curtains. And think of a plan for how we’re going to get home.”

Spike stood up to close the curtain as he grumbled, “Well, the casino’s out.”

“Yes. Yes, it is.”

Buffy was surprised he actually did what she asked and closed the curtain. It was a nice curtain with a blackout liner, so the room instantly became comfortably dark. He probably preferred that anyway. Reminded him of tombs and death or something.

Spike moved to one of the armchairs in the corner by the bed, propping his feet up on the side Buffy wasn’t lying on.

She opened one eye to watch him slowly slurp his blood and stare blankly ahead of him.

“You don’t think we’re really married, do you?” Buffy asked softly. “Like, legally? We can’t be. Right?”

“Don’t think I even legally exist.”

“Right. Yeah. You don’t,” she said hopefully. “You’re just an old corpse.”

He looked mildly insulted. Then he cocked his head. “Though there is that shiny certificate we got. It was notarized— all official-like. And we didn’t go up in flames in the house of the Lord.”

Buffy could feel her brows knitting together. It was all so stressful and overwhelming. She curled her legs up so she was lying in a ball on her side. 

“Go to sleep, pet. We’ll sort it when you wake.”

“Kay.”

Feeling oddly relieved, she closed her eyes and murmured sleepily, “You can watch TV if you want. I’m too tired to care.”

Blinking her eyes open she saw a trace of a smile on his lips as he reached for the remote. “Pretty knackered myself. You’re a hell of a woman to keep up with.”

That sent a jolt of electricity through all her Buffy alarm fibers. But when she realized how off-handedly he’d said it and that he already seemed to be enthralled with the scrolling TV Guide menu, she let it go.

She closed her eyes, and she let it go.

Chapter 7

When Buffy blinked her eyes open, she saw on the nightstand’s digital clock that it was 8pm. She had slept away the entire day. Great.

It suddenly occurred to her that Giles, her mom, her friends were probably all tearing their hair out wondering where the hell she was. She should call them at least, end the freak out, let them know she was okay. Well, ‘okay’ seemed like a strong word to describe her and her current situation. She was at least not dead , though. And they’d probably like to hear that.

She rolled from her side to her back and that’s when she noticed the hand that had been resting on her hip this entire time.

Buffy opened her mouth in silent outrage and swatted Spike’s hand away.

“Elephants like peanuts,” he mumbled before opening his eyes and finding hers staring at him. 

“Elephants?” Buffy repeated.

Spike’s brow furrowed with confusion. “Elephants?”

“You just said—” she sighed. “Nevermind. Don’t touch me.”

He looked down at his hands and then up at her again, irritated this time. “ I’m not .”

“You were . I woke up and you were all handsy with the hands.”

Spike rolled his eyes. “You’re delusional, slayer.”

“Why the hell are you in the bed at all?”

“Decided to get some kip— much like yourself.”

“You were not invited to kip in my bed, Spike.”

“Please,” he sneered. “After the things we’ve done, you’re gonna pitch a fit over sleeping ?”

Buffy sat up sharply, thankful for the bulky and protective bathrobe she’d fallen asleep in. “Do not remind me.”

Spike smiled smugly. “Won’t have to. I think you remember quite well. You were moaning in your sleep earlier.”

“I most certainly was not.”

“Whatever you gotta tell yourself, slayer.”

She threw her legs over the side of the bed and turned her back on him. “I despise you.”

“You’re not exactly on my Christmas card list either.”

Buffy eyed the telephone on the table beside her. She really needed to call home. She really needed Spike to not make this situation any worse than it already was— which, as long as he was around, he definitely would.

“Hey,” she said, lightening her tone. “Why don’t you go see if you can con some poor unsuspecting maid into buying more pig’s blood for you? That would be fun, right? You must be hungry after all that—” She couldn’t in good conscience finish that sentence. “Sleep.”

Spike arched one brow skeptically. “Thanks for the concern. I’m set.”

“Okay. Good. But… Um… Maybe you could fill up that bucket over there with ice. Like, a whole lot of ice. I’d do it, but I am… in a robe. And naked under the robe. And so, well, it’s… it’s indecent.”

Stretching his arms back behind his head and clasping them there, Spike said, “Listen, pet, I might be your husband now, but I sure as fuck am not your errand boy.”

“You are not my anything, Spike! Ugh!” She stood up and glared at him with her hands on her hips. She jabbed a finger in his direction. “You listen. I am about to pick up this phone and call home because, unlike you, I actually have people who care about me and I need to stop their panic-fest. You will keep your trap shut while I do that. If you do not keep your trap shut, I will find something wooden and pointy and shut it myself. Permanantly. Are we clear?”

Spike looked bored. He reached over to the nightstand beside him and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, sliding one out and gingerly lighting it like he hadn’t a care in the world. 

“Spike!”

“We’re clear,” he said innocently with a little smile before taking in a long inhale of his cancer stick. It sucked he couldn’t get cancer.

“Those aren’t allowed inside, you know.”

Spike puffed out some smoke and continued to smile at her.

It freaked her out, him smiling at her like that. 

“Nevermind,” she grumbled as she sat down on the bed with her back to him, picking up the phone. 

She steeled herself, said a little futile prayer, and she dialed.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Giles.”

“Buffy! Good lord. We’ve been beyond worried. We only just decided to risk another spell to locate you. Believe me there was a lengthy debate over that, what with the circumstances. Where are you?” 

Buffy stared numbly at a palm tree painting on the wall. “Um. I am in Vegas.”

“Vegas?! Las Vegas?!”

“That’s the one.”

“What the bloody hell are you doing there?”

Absently, she was twirling the beige phone cord around one of her fingers. “Oh, you know, exploring the sites, enjoying the culture, hitting the slots.”

“This isn’t funny, Buffy.”

“Believe me, it is not.” She coughed a little from the secondhand smoke that could give her cancer.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know! I just magically appeared here, and— and—” She bit her lip. “It’s like I had no control over what I was doing. I mean, I was me, but I was choosing to do these… things that sane Buffy would never ever do! I was enjoying things that should not be enjoyable—”

Spike chuckled evilly and she reached behind her back to smack whatever she encountered first, which was his thigh.

“Ow!”

Giles asked, “What was that?”

“Uh!” Buffy scrambled. “Magician! They’re everywhere around here. Just… popping up like little bunnies out of big old hats.”

“I don’t understand what—”

“Look. The important thing is… I am fine. I didn’t want you all to be worrying. I’m perfectly fine. I just… need to get home. And I don’t have any more money. So…”

“Rent a car or, perhaps, purchase a bus ticket. You can have the sales attendant call me for my credit card information.”

Buffy sighed with relief. “ Thank you, Giles . You have no idea what a load off that is.”

“Yes. Good. Um… there is one other slight matter…” He stammered in un-Giles-like fashion. “I don’t wish to worry you. But, uh, well it’s Spike.”

“What about him?” Buffy asked curtly as Spike leaned over and waved in her face, making her glare a lot.

“He’s missing.”

“Oh.” She glanced at the missing vampire beside her. “Kay.”

“Well, I thought you’d be concerned. That’s all.”

“Not really. He’s… basically harmless, you kn—”

Spike scoffed. “Sod off, bitch.”

Buffy held her hand over the mouthpiece just as Giles said, “Was that—?”

“Damn magicians!” She laughed nervously. “They’re… awful tricksy. I’ll be home soon, Giles!”

“Would you like us to track down Spike for you while you’re trav—”

“No!” Buffy shouted a little bit hysterically. “No. Just… wait ‘til I get there. Don’t… do anything.”

Giles was silent for a beat. “All right. Be safe, Buffy.”

“I will. Thanks.”

She hung up the phone and promptly turned around to be angry at Spike.

“Take it back,” he said, pointing at her accusingly with his glowing cigarette.

Buffy stared at him and decided not to dignify him with a response. She stood up and went to the bathroom instead.

*****

All she had to wear was a wedding dress.

It was a distressing fact, but a fact all the same. Buffy took a deep breath. She was the slayer. She could do impossible things. 

She could wear this ridiculous wedding dress.

Putting on the white gown and looking in the mirror, she was overcome with a fresh sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. It all felt like a dream, but it had really happened. Here was the physical sparkly proof. 

Of course, there was further proof all over her skin.

The hickies weren’t covered at all by her sweetheart neckline and spaghetti straps. She touched the purple splotches faintly and tried to breathe normally. God, she might as well just give up now. She’d had a good slayerly run, but this was just too much to deal with. Better luck to the next chosen one.

With a begrudging sigh that bordered on a whimper, she reached behind her back to button herself. Damn it. Damn it all. She couldn’t do this herself.

Back in the room, she snatched up Spike’s tuxedo jacket and put it on, looking at herself in the mirror. It practically drowned her, but whatever. She just needed to get from the hotel room to the rental car without every person they crossed along the way staring at her and causing a scene that Spike would undoubtedly only make more scenely.

“You know, slayer,” Spike began. He was lying on the bed watching TV, looking annoyingly content. “We do have this room for the rest of the night.”

Buffy’s brows lifted as she took off the jacket and placed it over the chair it had been laid over. “ Uh huh… ”

He eyed her up and down and then shrugged. “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Right?”

“What are you saying right now?” she asked impatiently.

“Bloody hell. You are thick.”

Buffy threw her hands up in the air. “ What, Spike?”

“All I’m sayin’ is… we had a good bloody time of it. Didn’t we?”

Her voice got unnaturaly high. “You think this has been a good time ?”

Spike rolled his eyes, turned off the TV, and stood up. He approached her, cat-like and predatory. All slink-tastic and ugh. “I think… there’s only one thing better ‘n killing a slayer. And you showed me what that was last night.”

“Ugh. Spike . Oh my Go—”

“Aht!” He held up a finger and pressed it to her lips. “Not with all that again.”

She smacked his hand away. “You’re bent.”

“Yeah, and you loved it. You loved it all. You loved…” 

He stopped and he actually surprised her by looking uncomfortable for a moment. It confused her until she realized what he was about to say. 

She’d loved him.

She had . Not rationally. Not… actually. Not of her own free will. But she’d felt it clear as day. She’d felt her love and his and if she was extremely, painfully honest with herself, that was why all of this had been so horrifying. 

What she’d felt had been like nothing she’d ever felt before. Acceptance, trust, honesty, lust— damn it, lots of that— but most importantly, love. The profound and unconditional kind.

Spike was studying her, and she had to admit she preferred this look of intrigue on his face to the smug one he was typically sporting. She could tell he was waiting for a response.

“I need…” Buffy began, her mind suddenly under assault from the fresh memories of his hands on her body, the raw look on his face when he came, the prideful look when she did.

“You need… what?” his deep voice implored.

Startled back to reality by the sound of him, she jumped and turned her back to him and looked over her shoulder. “H-help with my buttons.”

Spike moved his eyes to her open dress, raking them over the bare skin of her back. “Buffy, don’t you think—”

“ Please, Spike ,” she plead, turning her face away from him. “Please. Just… button.”

The tense air seemed to be smothering her. She hated this. She hated the absolute basket of nerves and conflicting sensations she had become.

But after a brutally agonizing moment of silence, the tenseness slowly melted as Spike began to button her dress.

“Bloody prude.”

Chapter 8

“Bloody hell, woman! Can you not read? You’re meant to stop at the red signs, not blow the fuck on past ‘em!”

A car horn blared. Maybe two.

Buffy all but growled as she clenched the steering wheel, “What do you care? You can’t die from a car crash.”

“Doesn’t mean it won’t hurt like hell.” Spike had himself braced protectively, but suddenly he chuckled. “Would be a funny way for a slayer to go, though, wouldn’t it? Imagine reading that in the watcher’s notes one day. Buffy Summers, perished as a result of Las Vegas evening traffic and an inability to navigate.”

“I can navigate!”

“You’re not goin’ at all the way the bloke at the front desk told you to.”

“How would you know?”

Spike sighed dramatically. “Because I have eyes in my head that see which ways you’re choosing and I also have ears which heard which way we were meant to go. None of which is lining up.”

It was sweltering in the rental car. Buffy sat up straighter in her seat and smashed the air conditioning up as high as it would go. “Just… shut up and let me concentrate.”

“Fine.” He crossed his arms and stared at her expectantly, his legs sprawled wide and care-free in the passenger seat.

Buffy had asked the concierge to add the cheapest t-shirt and shorts combo from the gift shop to their tab, so now she was wearing a black t-shirt with a pair of dice on the front and a pair of red athletic shorts with “Get Lucky!” stamped on the butt. Oh, and she had no bra and Spike had ruined her only pair of underwear.

Her day was going really really well.

“ And that was your exit right there,” Spike said, pointing out the window. “We’re never makin’ it back to Sunnydale before dawn.”

“Yes, we are!” Buffy argued, clutching the wheel as she swung the car around in a sharp U-turn. “Because if we don’t, I will kill myself.”

“ No . You’ll kill me.”

“Well, you would deserve it.”

“Uh huh. Are you wearing panties?”

“Oh my God, Spike!”

“Take that as a ‘no.’”

If Buffy didn’t have her hands on the wheel, they’d be around his neck right now. “I am trying to merge , you perverted freak.”

“The car has to be moving to merge.”

“Stop talking!”

He did stop talking. And it was enough for Buffy to catch a break in the stream of headlights whizzing past and pull the car carefully out onto the yellow-striped road, down the main strip toward the highway. When she glanced over at him, he was unbuttoning his dress shirt, his sleeves already rolled up casually.

“Stop that,” she ordered. “Your clothes stay completely on.”

Their eyes met, Spike’s dancing with mischief as he unbuttoned the last button defiantly. “Why, love? Tempted? I know my offer’s still rattling around in your head— or in your knickers. Wait, no knickers. Right. Reckon that explains why you can’t focus worth a damn on where the hell you’re going.”

“Just shut up,” she responded half-heartedly.

The truth was his offer , his sick, freaky sex offer actually was still in her head. Every time he glanced sideways at her or did that thing he did with his tongue or did anything kind of reachy that made the muscles in his forearm flex, it made her brain go places . Scary places.

“You have been thinking about it!” Spike declared victoriously with a bark of laughter. “I knew it!”

He was infuriatingly perceptive. But she could play it cool.

Buffy shrugged one shoulder, eyes on the road. “Mostly I’m just thinking I must be pretty amazing in bed if a big bad evil vampire who hates me so much is begging to sleep with me just one… last… time.”

It was really hard to contain her grin as Spike’s voice rose with outrage. 

“Begging? Please. You should be so lucky! I rocked your world, and we both know it. One failed fuck with bloody Forehead and a one-nighter with whoever that other sorry wanker was? You were desperate to be shagged properly for once in your sad life. You ought to be thanking me for the education.”

Buffy said nothing, just slowly rolled the car to a stop at a red light.

“Face it, love, you’re the slayer. No mortal man is ever gonna be able to keep up with you. ‘S why you were drawn to his great and poofy self in the first place. Your instincts know you need an equal, another killer, someone who can keep up without runnin’ outta steam and buggering off. Oh, wait…”

The light turned green, but Buffy kept her foot on the brake. She snarled at Spike, “I am not a killer .”

“Right.”

“I’m not!”

“The minute you own your own darkness a bit, you might actually lose that enormous stick up your arse.”

Cars were beginning to honk, so Buffy slammed her foot on the gas, making Spike jerk forward— which was satisfying. “You’re crazy.”

“And you’re horny.” He smiled cockily. “I can smell it. This little car is doin’ you no favors. I know your scent now. Got it all over my fingers, my mouth. Other places…”

Buffy refused to look at him, just swallowed hard.

“Also, that’s your exit up ahead.”

She could see a big sign in the distance, painted with bold primary colors. ‘Drive carefully! Come back soon!’ 

Without thinking at all about why she was doing it, Buffy screeched the tires as she jerked the car over to the shoulder of the road and parked.

*****

Buffy sat there in the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel like she was a Nascar driver, despite their sudden stationery position. 

“Uh, slayer?”

She ignored him. She was good at that. Ignoring Spike. She could do that for the next however many hours it was to Sunnydale. She could just drive this car and focus on the road and avoiding other headlights and the very important careful driving on the road. That was what she should do.

“The fuck are you doing?” Spike persisted loudly.

Yup. She could drive carefully all night long, be responsible, get home ASAP, never ever drink alcohol ever again, and she could probably even make it to her psych class. She should definitely try to make it to her psych class after all this.

Spike rolled his eyes and pulled out his cigarettes. “Bloody hell.”

‘Drive carefully! Come back soon!’ the sign shouted at her. It all but shouted the words. You’re leaving Las Vegas, it informed her. You’re leaving this place where sinful, insane things happen, where dirty secrets are kept, where danger lurks and tempts!

It’s time to go back to your life now, where reason and responsibility reign.

She looked over at Spike. He seemed to have given up on gathering any information from her and accepted his idle fate here on the side of the road as the other cars whizzed by. He flicked a silver lighter open and just as he brought the flame to life, she swatted it out of his hands.

She could feel the stifled rage within him. “Playing with fire, are you?” he asked with an irritated glare. “You’re a real piece o’ work, you know that? I oughtta—“

“Don’t say anything.” 

He stared at her, confused, until she unbuckled her seatbelt and grabbed his chin and smashed her lips to his.

*****

Buffy hadn’t planned on ever sleeping with a vampire ever again. 

In fact, she had resolutely declared to never even consider such a thing after the total shitshow that was Angel(us). She’d underlined it three times in her diary.

Yet, here she was in the backseat of the rental car with her legs up on Spike’s shoulders and her “Get Lucky!” shorts forgotten on the floorboard somewhere.

Her whole body was quivering, thrumming with pleasure at his every thrust. Her throat had already been raw from all their previous… engagements. So now all her sex sounds were coming out hoarse and it made her sound even more desperate and pathetic, but she didn’t care. Right now, she didn’t even care.

She didn’t care .  

“This tight, slick slayer cunt belongs to me and my cock. I am in you now, slayer. You are mine and I’m gonna make you come… right… bloody now .”

Buffy’s entire body shot to the moon as he prodded a finger into her ass just as the final word rumbled out of him. She dug her nails into his arms and sobbed with relief as the pleasure shattered through her. 

Drifting back down to Earth, she said breathily, “I hate you.”

She moaned loudly as he curled his finger and did… something. Something very good. 

“Clearly,” he said smugly.

Buffy used both hands to jerk his mouth toward hers and kiss him. When she kissed him, he had to shut up. When she kissed him, it helped her close her eyes and pretend a variety of things that were all better than the reality of what was happening.

Spike pulled back and licked his lips with his tongue. She grimaced noticeably.

“Oh, stuff it, princess.”

“I didn’t say anyth— ahh!” He was pinching her nipples hard, his hands beneath her t-shirt. It made her back arch like she was possessed by the god of please-oh-please-suck-on-my-nipples. “Ughhh. God — dammit!” 

He did that tongue flicky thing between his teeth again, clearing relishing her every reaction. Buffy was starting to realize it was an unconscious thing he did. He actually wasn’t trying to taunt her with his lewd sex tongue, it just did lewd sex things all on its own, whether she was involved or not. His ridiculous tongue was made for sex and now she couldn’t stop thinking about it between her thighs, but she didn’t know how to ask for that when she’d just told this guy who’d made her come in under five minutes that she hated him— which she absolutely did .

“Fuuuuck,” he groaned as he pummeled into her, rocking the entire car for the whole of Las Vegas to see.

She could tell he was getting closer to climax himself, but suddenly she tangled her fingers into his hair, gave him a dark look, and shoved his head down between her legs.

Spike looked up at her, torn between various emotions. “Needy, aren’t you?”

“Do what I tell you or we go.”

She honestly expected them to go. Or maybe he’d be so pissed off that she’d ruined his own potential orgasm that he’d hold her down and fuck her ‘til he did. That actually didn’t sound too unappealing when she thought about it.

God, what the hell was wrong with her?!

But instead of all that, Spike just grinned all slow and Grinch-like. He ran his hands up her thighs as he lowered his face down and gave her one long earth-shattery lick.

“Is that what you like, slayer?”

“Yes!”

He lifted his head and cocked one eyebrow. “Now, what?”

“You know what to do, you jerk.”

“Told me to do what you tell me.” Innocently, he smiled and said, “So tell me what to do.”

Buffy put a hand on her face and whined, “Why are you always just the worst?”

“You bring it outta me.”

She thudded a heel into his back and sighed. He chuckled with delight. 

“Come now, pet. Just tell me what you want. Lips, tongue, teeth? Be precise.” 

His eyes were blue fire she wanted to touch.

“I want it all,” she said softly.

Spike waited expectantly, nibbling his own bottom lip.

“I…” Buffy swallowed self-consciously. “I want… you… to—” She looked up at the car ceiling, unable to get the words out.

He squeezed one of her thighs. “Can face the apocalypse, but can’t say some naughty words to your husband?”

“I swear—”

Patronizingly, he patted her leg and said, “Repeat after me, sweetheart. ‘I want…’”

Buffy felt her indignant rage and her insatiable lust fighting a fierce war within her. “I… want…”

“Good girl.”

“ Spike , if you—”

He continued, “‘I want you…’”

She swallowed her anger and kept her eyes locked on his. “I want you…”

“Yeah, you do,” he said with a wink.

“You know what, nevermind,” Buffy said, sitting up.

Spike pressed her back down by the stomach with one hand. “‘I want you to fuck me with your tongue.’ Or, uh… ‘your face.’ ‘Your mouth.’ You pick, baby. It’s the ‘fuck’ part that really matters.”

“Don’t call me ‘baby.’”

“Least I can say what I wanna say.”

Buffy propped herself up on one elbow and gripped his hair hard at the scalp. Spike let out a satisfyingly sharp exhale in response as she twisted his head to one side and met his eyes. Surprisingly, she could swear he liked it when she handled him like this.

“I want you to devour me, Spike.”

Crookedly, he looked at her. She could practically see the fog of desire that clouded and consumed all his errant rebelliousness.

So without another word, he did just as she said.

Chapter 9

Notes:

Yar! There be bickering and banter ahead!

Buffy hadn’t really considered how awkward the long drive home alone in the car with the vampire who had just buried his face in her crotch would be.

She’d had horny sex blinders on— blinders that made her see only as far as the next sex act and literally nothing else. Buffy had never thought she could be this kind of girl. How had this happened to her? And so quickly? All Spike had to do was look sideways at her or smirk a little and she had the strong urge to leap into this lap or at the very least cross her legs, which she, of course, couldn’t do as the designated driver on this road trip from hell.

So she just throbbed and pined and hated herself and suffered in silence.

Or, tried to suffer in silence.

“Not one decent station on this sodding excuse for a radio,” Spike grumbled as he cycled through the channels once more. “Is all of Las Vegas filled with insufferable pillocks and country western fans?”

Buffy rolled her eyes and ignored him. She ignored current him anyway. Past him— the getting her off in record time him— was still playing on repeat in her brain. 

“Gonna miss this place,” he went on obliviously, staring out the window as they rolled down the highway. “Sunnyhell could really step it up in the entertainment department, don’t you think?” He shrugged. “Hellmouth’s fun on occasion, but that demon cruise didn’t sound half bad. What was it called again? Should’ve kept that bloody pamphlet.”

After he’d come and she’d come again, they’d both been out of breath, lying on top of each other in the backseat. Still and quiet at last. Spike had brushed the hair out of her face and stared at her so intently, strangely. 

“What now?” he’d asked.

“Well, we’re not gonna cuddle.”

“Good.”

“We go home,” she’d said hoarsely. “We go back to normal.”

His fingers had trailed down along the roundness of her breast, cupping it genetly, his eyes seeming to soak her in. “You think we can?”

“This is done, Spike. That was it. We're done now.”

He had just looked at her after that. He’d looked at her until she’d felt so uncomfortable that she pushed him away and searched for her ridiculous shorts.

“Slayer?” Spike asked her now. “Don’t you remember?”

Baffled, Buffy said, “What? No. We’re done. What?” 

“The bloody demon ship. What’s it called?”

“Huh? What demon ship? There’s a ship of demons? Or is the ship possessed by a demon?”

“Bloody hell. Nevermind. Drive your little car.”

“I hate driving,” she grumbled.

“No one forced you.”

“Circumstances forced me.” 

“Happy to take the wheel, pet.”

Buffy scoffed. “You’re evil and— and evil . I’m not giving you heavy machinery.”

“Suit yourself.” He added a half-hearted, “Bitch.”

She shot him a micro-glare, but said nothing.

“Are we there yet?” she murmured to herself with a tired sigh.

*****

“We should establish some rules,” Buffy announced, turning down the Nirvana song Spike had been blasting. “For, um, when we get back.”

Spike turned his head sideways to look at her full on. “No.”

“The first rule is an oldie but a goodie. Very easy to remember. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas . Nobody gets to know anything about any of this. Even the things that… happened on the almost border of Vegas. That still counts as a Vegas-ish happening, so we do not speak of that or any of these things.”

“You mean the dirty things where you screamed my name and made your voice all hoarse,” Spike said with a grin.

Her stomach clenched as she willed up all of her resolve and patience. “Mhmm, yep, those things. They are on the list of unspeakable things. Is there any confusion at all about what’s on that list?”

“The part where you forced me to eat up your cunt, is that on the list?”

“ Yes, Spike .”

“How ‘bout when you begged me to fuck you in the arse?”

She karate-chopped his chest with her right hand as she held the steering wheel with her left. 

Spike made a loud “Oof!” and then laughed. “Never got to, by the way.”

“This isn’t a joke! Whatever happened to us— a spell or something— it made us crazy, okay? You of all people can attest to that. We were out of our minds! But the rest of them won’t understand! No one will understand!”

Spike didn’t say anything for a moment. “Don’t think we can blame the spell for that little highway detour we took.”

“That was one last… time… to get it out of our systems. The— the spell thing that made us… do all that stuff… well, it ended right when we were in the middle of… things. And—and so… our bodies were just confused is all. They were confused. We were confused. But now everything is fine and we never have to speak about any of it ever again.”

“Right. So, how do you propose we explain the whole marriage part?”

Buffy lifted a finger in the air. “We do not. That is a thing that happened in Vegas . Therefore, it stays there— way way back there— in Vegas .”

Spike yawned and slid his seat back as far as it would go, stretching out. “Yeah, ‘til the day you find your precious white knight ‘n he gets down on one knee and offers you a golden carriage and a big, gloomy castle. And then, lo and behold, it turns out that Buffy Summers is in fact Mrs. William Pratt! Signed her name to the certificate and everything. Bugger . Looks like your fairytale’s come to a screeching bloody halt.”

“That is… so not how any of this works.”

“Mrs. Spike!”

“That isn’t how this works, is it?!” she asked, suddenly feeling panicked. “I’m not in some marriage registry, am I?!”

Spike was smiling cockily. “I love that you’re dumb enough to think I’m the person to ask about these details.”

“God,” Buffy groaned, putting a hand to her temple. “Wasn’t my life hard enough?” Suddenly a thought occurred to her and she narrowed her eyes at the vampire beside her. “This is all your fault.”

“Oh, here we go.”

“It is! I’m the vampire slayer . I kill your kind. And I’m really freaking good at it.”

He rolled his eyes. “After all this, you still can’t say the word ‘fuck’ can you?”

“None of this would ever have happened if I had just killed you during one of the zillion chances I’ve had!”

“Would’ve, could’ve, should’ve, love.”

“I could kill you now. I don’t care you’re all helpless and pathetic. Clearly you can cause an insane amount of damage whether you’re all chippy and defanged or not.”

“I am not defanged,” he snarled. 

Buffy stared ahead at the long, open road, shaking her head. “I should. I should just kill you. It simplifies everything .”

Spike said nothing. He seemed to be waiting to see how serious her musings were. He probably knew on some level that she was right.

She looked at him and in a series of flashes she saw her bouquet drop as they kissed, saw him light up as she walked toward the poker table, saw him scoop her up and throw her onto a petal-speckled bed, saw him fall to his knees in utter worship— she thought of how it all made her feel at the time.

“I should kill you,” she said more softly, returning her eyes to the road.

He answered in the same gentle and bemused tone, “Probably should.”

*****

“There’s the exit to LA. Wanna pop by and deliver the happy news to your ex honey?”

Make that the four hundred and eighty sixth thing he’d said since they’d left Vegas that deserved an eye roll. 

Spike sigh-groaned. “Christ. You’re so bloody boring when you’re not under the influence. All you can talk about is getting home and how to best behave once we get there. I swear, you are the worst wife I’ve ever had.”

“Ha.”

“This drive could’ve been a lot more exciting. That’s all I’m sayin’.”

“That’s nice.”

“Could make it exciting for us both right now ,” he said, a spark of mischief in his voice.

Buffy glanced at him suspiciously. “Please don’t.”

Damn him and that evil tongue thing. 

“Stop that,” she said, refocusing on the road.

He radiated temptation, which was absurd because he was Spike and he was evil and… and this car was too small for radiation like that.

Suddenly his hand was on her bare thigh. “Don’t,” she murmured, glancing down at it.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I— I…” Buffy gulped. “I do.”

Spike caught her eyes and grinned. “Those little words’re how this all started.”

With that stark reminder, Buffy shoved his hand away. “What is with you anyway? It’s not like you like me. Why all the…?” She gestured to her leg and then vaguely toward the backseat.

“Well, I know this is shocking for you, love, but I don’t have to fancy you in the slightest to appreciate a good shag.”

Buffy furrowed her brow dubiously. “You think I’m good, huh?”

Spike’s eyes narrowed. He inhaled long and loud and then let out the dramatic breath he obviously wasn’t breathing for the oxygen. “I think…” He grinned dangerously as he dragged out the moment. “You got more than one calling.”

She felt her own eyes widen with surprise and embarrassment. She tore her gaze from his as he laughed.

“So shy,” he teased. “It’s almost charming.”

“Almost, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s less charming when I know you’re still secretly trying to decide if you should keep me alive or not.”

Buffy didn’t answer that. Though, it hadn’t really been a question. He just knew.

“There’s nowhere to keep you,” she finally said. “You can’t… live in Giles’ bathtub forever.”

“I’d rather not.”

“And he says you’re eating all his food— which is ridiculous. You do know you’re a vampire, right?”

“I’m adaptable.”

“So what the hell am I supposed to do with a homeless, people food-eating, neutered vampire who cheats at kitten poker?”

Spike smiled. “Told you I only cheated so I could better provide for you.”

“I’m serious here, Spike! Where the hell do you fit in? I should just dump you on the side of the road or something.”

He looked around at their barren surroundings. “Like hell. I have to get back to those Initiative boys and get my—” He stopped suddenly.

“Get your chip taken out?” she filled in.

Spike said nothing, just looked at her coldly. “It ain’t right. What they did. This isn’t my nature.”

“Yeah, well, we’re all doing questionable things that are not in our nature lately. Welcome to the hellmouth. Get used to it.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Sure I do.” Almost cheerily, she said, “If you get the chip out, I can dust you— instantaneously. And that will be spectacular, wholesome fun for everyone. I’ll have never been so pumped for a good, thorough staking in all my life.”

“Why such delight in my demise? Is it the irony? ‘Cause I staked you ?”

She looked at him, confused. “When did you—” The way he grabbed his crotch and bounced one eyebrow answered that question. “You’re sick. And that is exactly why you deserve to be dust.”

“Thought it was the whole soulless murdering of people thing?”

Buffy nodded with a grimace. “That… is very bad, too.”

“Right.” Spike jested cavalierly, “I’ve gotta remember that. Wife does not like murder.”

“Stop calling me that and you can shut up now.”

He chuckled again and reclined his seat back with a yawn. “Wake me when we’re in Sunnyhell. And do not bring me back to that bloody watcher’s place. Anywhere but there. He doesn’t even have cable.”

Buffy’s stomach sank as she remembered she’d have to face Giles soon. 

She’d have to face a lot of things soon.

Chapter 10

Welcome to Sunnydale! Enjoy your stay!

Buffy felt slightly nauseous when she saw the sign.

Spike was sleeping. The motion of the car gave him enough movement that he actually didn’t seem quite so dead when he was asleep as he should. She found it a lot easier, in fact, to be distracted by his relaxed lips, his ridiculous bone structure, that little scar over his eye when he wasn’t awake and being obnoxious.

He’d asked her to take him anywhere but Giles’ apartment, so she drove directly to Giles’ apartment. If ever she could use some watcherly guidance, now was the time.

Parking in the street outside his building, she noticed the sun was about to rise. Idly, she thought, just in time . And then she was angry at herself for caring at all about Spike’s safety. How ridiculous was that? No. It wasn’t his safety she cared about. She was just thankful she hadn’t had to pull over and stash him in the trunk or something. That would’ve been a huge battle and he would’ve been annoying about it.

So thank goodness they’d beat the sun.

“Wake up,” she said abruptly.

Spike didn’t respond.

“Wake. Up .”

Spike kept sleeping. 

Buffy shoved his shoulder, making him tip toward the window and bonk his head on the glass.

“Bloody hell,” he grumbled. He straightened up and looked at her. “That was awful rude.”

“We’re here. Get out.”

Spike ran a hand through his hair and looked around. “For fuck’s sake, slayer. I asked you for one bloody thing, and here we are precisely where I told you not to take me.”

“You are our prisoner, Spike. You don’t make demands about where we imprison you, or what Giles purchases from the grocery store, or what temperature your blood is heated to, or—”

“Or how often my wife services me?”

Buffy gritted her teeth and felt every muscle in her body flex as she resisted the urge to murder him. “You get that out of your system right now, mister, because we are about to go inside—”

“We’re getting things out of our system again? Enjoyed that last time, didn’t you?”

Shaking her head and wondering if smoke was literally pouring from her ears, Buffy glared at his stupid, smirking face and then got out of the car, slamming the door shut behind her.

Spike got out, too, stretching and making a big lazy show of himself.

“Remember the rules,” Buffy said, stomping past him in her ridiculous dice outfit.

She could feel him following her at a more casual stroll. “I agreed to nothing.”

She whirled around and gave him a pointed look. “Your survival depends upon your ability to remember the rules, Spike. I will stake you if I have to.”

“Sure, pet.”

Clenching her fists, Buffy found Giles’ door and knocked on it harshly.

*****

“Buffy?”

When Giles opened the door, he was in his blue striped pajamas, yawning, clearly having rolled directly out of his bed and stumbled down the stairs.

“Sorry it’s so late— or, um, early,” Buffy greeted with a cringe. She gestured toward Spike behind her. “But look! I found Spike!”

Giles put on his glasses and did look, squinting from Spike to Buffy then back to Spike and back to Buffy. “What on earth are you wearing?”

“Oh. This.” Buffy laughed nervously. “Um—”

“My coat better be in there,” Spike said, peering into Giles’ living room over Buffy’s shoulder.

“I did think it was odd you’d left it,” Giles murmured. “Been a lot of odd occurrences lately, though.” He stepped back. “Come in, come in.”

Buffy led the way and Spike trailed after her. He immediately began scouting the surroundings for his beloved leather coat. Buffy rolled her eyes and turned toward Giles, who was clearly baffled by everything right now.

He murmured quietly to Buffy, “I notice a surprising lack of restraints on our… guest.”

“Oh. Yeah. Well, I told him to behave or else I’d kill him. So…”

Giles nodded as though that sounded believable enough. He scrupulously looked her over again. “Perhaps a weapon would aid in that endeavor.”

“Yes!” Buffy went to Giles’ weapon chest and pulled out a fresh stake. “Perfect.” 

As he shrugged on his duster, Spike looked up and clucked his tongue disapprovingly at the sight of her with a weapon. Then he said, “Anyone seen my trousers? I like those trousers. They’d really contoured to my shape.”

Neither Buffy nor Giles said anything, so Spike rolled his eyes and sighed, wandering off toward the bathroom.

“I’m sorry, Giles. I didn’t know where else to bring him.”

“It’s all right. We will need a more permanent Spike solution, though. I’m not exactly sure how he escaped in the first place, which is concerning. There’s been a lot of chaos the past few days. We’ve been trying to figure out what happened to you. There was a spell—”

“I figured.”

“Did you?”

Buffy’s eyes widened. “Well, yeah. I mean how else would I magically appear in Las Vegas wearing—?” She froze and then gestured at her outfit. “You know… this.”

Giles nodded as he moved slowly toward the kitchen and began filling a tea kettle with water. “Right. Very strange specificity.” He yawned. “Do you have any idea why you were transported there of all places?” 

“Can’t say as I do,” Buffy said, bracing her forearms on the counter between them as she slumped onto a stool. “Do you have any hypotheses?” 

Staring at his tea kettle, Giles said, “Well, Willow inadvertently cast a spell— actually, no, the spell was intentional. The results, however, were inadvertent. I lost my vision. Xander and Anya seemed to be swarmed by demons. We were able to trace it all back to Willow having performed a spell that made all her declarations come to life.”

“All her declarations, huh?” Buffy asked slowly. “So, what did she declare about me?”

Giles looked at her suspiciously. “She seemed to remember saying something about you running off after Spike and that you should just… um…” He laughed. “Well, it was so preposterous we were certain nothing could actually make such a thing happen. Magic or no.”

“What did she say, Giles?”

“That you should marry Spike.”

Buffy stared passively as Giles prepared his teacup and turned his kettle on. She began bouncing one leg nervously.

Chuckling, he said, “We all had a good laugh at that mental picture.”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “I’m sure. It’s… hilarious.”

“But then when we couldn’t find you, well… we were all concerned.”

Spike suddenly appeared, sauntering out in his trademark denim and leather once more. “Got any blood? Weetabix? I’m peckish. Was a long, dull drive.”

Buffy felt her eyes grow in size as Giles’ narrowed astutely on the stupid blabbermouth vampire. “You had a long drive?”

Spike opened the refrigerator without a care in the world. “Oh, good. Glad to see you’ve stocked up.” He pulled out a plastic container of blood and smiled at them both.

Undeterred, Giles turned to Buffy.

“I… can explain,” she said.

“My lips are sealed,” Spike said as he casually popped the container into the microwave and turned it on. He pointed at Buffy. “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. I remember.”

“Spike was with you? This whole time?”

She might throw up now.

“Okay,” she said. “I actually can’t explain.”

“You want me to?” Spike asked.

Buffy blinked rapidly, torn between the instinct to punch Spike’s amused face or to calm Giles’ which was growing more and more horrified by the second.

He picked up his tea kettle, about to pour. “Willow’s spell didn’t… actually come to fruition? Did it?”

“How could—? I— we— it wasn’t… That would be…” She ran her hands through her hair and then snapped, “We had no control over anything, Giles! Nothing! We were totally out of control! It’s not my fault!”

“Bloody hell,” he breathed as he inadvertently began pouring boiling water all over the countertop.

“Giles!”

Shaken from his mind’s terrifying wanderings, he came back to reality and lifted the kettle up enough to halt the flow of water. Setting it down, Buffy could see his hands were shaking.

“All right there, Rupes?” Spike asked.

Giles focused all his attention on picking up a dish rag and carefully blotting the mess. 

“Giles?” Buffy said.

He continued his blotting.

Buffy met Spike’s eyes. He shrugged and turned back to his blood preparations, grabbing a mug from the cabinet.

“How long were you under the spell?” Giles asked.

Buffy hesitated. “How long were you under the spell?”

“... Days.”

“Oh, not as long!” Buffy declared victoriously. “Not nearly so long! Just one night.”

“One night. One whole… wedding night?” Giles clarified.

“Uh…”

Spike turned around with his full mug and a big fat grin. “One whole night.”

“I rather think I need to sit down.”

*****

Spike was sleeping in Giles’ bed.

Any other day under any other circumstance this would have been an outrage. But today Giles and Buffy were so desperate for him to go away and stop talking that they had actually encouraged it.

They were sitting on the couch together now, pretending to drink tea.

“What do we do, Giles?” Buffy asked in a panic. “I don’t know what to do with him!”

“Calm down, Buffy.”

“You calm down! You didn’t have to—” She furiously stopped that sentence in its tracks. “You just have no idea what I’ve been through.”

“I think I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Yuh huh. Let’s.” Buffy rubbed her temples. “God, I’m gonna kill Willow. I still can’t believe this happened. I wish I could have my mind wiped. Do you think she can do that? Erase the last forty eight hours from my brain?”

Giles took his glasses off and cleaned them. “I understand the impulse, but… clearly her spells are unpredictable and I can’t recommend we experiment with, ah, your brain.”

“Could we at least experiment with Spike’s brain?” she asked hopefully. “Those Initiative guys already did. He’s basically a walking talking science experiment! We’d just be… tinkering.”

From Giles’ uneasy expression she could tell he didn’t support that plan either.

“Okay,” Buffy grumbled. “No tinkering . I repeat then… what the hell do we do?”

“I… don’t know that there’s anything we can do. Except to move on. Put it behind you.”

She scoffed. “That’s real easy for you to say. Spike didn’t see you naked!”

“Dear lord.”

“Giles! This is very serious! I’m having a crisis here!”

“I— I see that.”

She’d never seen him at such a loss for what to do.

“Can we kill him?” she asked.

Giles took a sip of his tea and then looked at her gravely. “I do believe that’s your call to make.”

Buffy groaned and hugged her arms to her chest. “It’s not fair. Why are all the hard decisions mine?”

“One of your many burdens I’m afraid.”

She stared at the unlit fireplace. “What would you do? Give me… something. Anything. Please .”

Giles sighed. “I think… if you do slay him, it has to be for the right reasons or it will haunt you forever.” He looked at her compassionately. “I think you have to remember why you decided not to slay him in the first place.”

“Because I’m a big fat idiot?”

He smiled a little.

Buffy shook her head with defeat. “I repeat, it’s not fair.”

“It isn’t.”

They were quiet for a long moment.

With sarcastic pep, Buffy said, “Maybe I should just kill Willow instead.”

Chapter 11

She didn’t kill Willow.

In their dorm room, her friend offered her cookies and Buffy took the cookies, but the cookies— even though they were delicious— could not undo all the depraved sex and marriage vows. No cookie could do that.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Willow said, pouring Buffy some milk and bringing it to her where she sat hugging a pillow on her bed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I am so sorry.”

Buffy took the milk and raised one eyebrow. “And?”

“And I’m sorry! I am the sorriest person on the planet right now, Buffy.”

“You… understand the severity of the situation?”

“Um. Well, I— I— I think I got the gist from your slightly ragey phone call.”

“Let’s not just gist this.”

Willow sat down hesitantly beside her. “Okay.”

“I married Spike. Spike, the vampire— the vampire known for killing slayers. I actually married Spike. We got married. We kissed. And we had…” Buffy took a bite of her cookie. 

Willow’s eyebrows did caterpillar things on her forehead as she tried to fill in the blanks.

Buffy groaned and used her hands to gesture the act.

“Oh, no.” Her eyes grew with realization. “Oh, I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so, so sorry, Buffy! Oh, no!”

Mouth full of cookie, she said, “I’m scarred for life! I cannot explain to you how… dirty I feel.”

“You’ve seen Spike naked,” Willow said, hands on her own cheeks. “He’s seen you—”

“We have done a lot more than see things, Will!”

All Willow could do was cringe and hand Buffy another cookie. 

“My hands are getting kind of full,” Buffy told her, holding up the other one in her other hand. She sighed. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I can’t even look at him without thinking about all the…”

“It must’ve been horrible.”

Buffy nibbled on left hand cookie and shrugged one shoulder. “Yeah… horrible…”

Astute as ever, Willow’s eyes narrowed. “It was horrible. Right?” 

“The fact that it happened? Absolutely. The actual happening of it…” She nibbled on right hand cookie. “Well, the bottom line is I am definitely going to hell.”

“He’s not exactly… unattractive.”

“No,” Buffy said firmly. “Just evil . Very, very evil. Way eviler than I thought. His tongue does this… thing .” She looked at her friend guiltily and then down at her cookies. “I don’t know. I’m all screwed up, Wil. I mean, I loved him. Really loved him. I wanted to spend my life with him. And he felt the same way! I know he did. It was all so real. And I remember every bit. I was so happy and he was so sexy and we were like dynamite together, and… and…”

Willow sounded nervous when she asked, “And?”

“And what if I never feel like that for real? What if my love life’s ruined forever because I have this absurd, unrealistic, absolute euphoria to compare it to now? How will I ever get for real married? And how am I ever going to have normal sex ever again?!”

“Jeez, Buff, what kind of sex did you have?”

Buffy threw down both her cookies and stood up, gesturing wildly as she paced the room. “Vampire sex! Demon, vampire sex that just keeps going and going and getting hotter and hotter and messier and… yummier. And, God, are you hearing me right now? ”

“I… am.”

“This has all just been very overwhelming. And… um… intense.”

“I… get that.” Willow looked up at her from the bed. “You want another cookie?”

“Yes, please.”

*****

Buffy finally mustered up the courage to return to Giles’ house when the sun began to set.

She’d taken a nap in her dorm room, eaten half a dozen of Willow’s guilt cookies, and thought a lot about Spike. Er, about what to do with Spike.

Breezing into Giles’ apartment with her nose held high with authority, Buffy looked around and took in the strange domestic scene. Giles sat at the table, predictably buried in a book. And Spike was on the sofa with his feet propped on the coffee table, watching TV and crunching on pretzels from an enormous bag like he actually belonged here.

He looked up at her with mild irritation. “You could knock.”

Buffy folded her arms across her chest. “Get up. We’re going out.”

“Ooh, is it date night?” he teased.

“Shut up.” She pulled out her stake from her back waistband. “This isn’t a joke.”

Giles carefully pocketed his glasses and stood up. “I was thinking perhaps Xander could take Spike for a while. He’s—”

“No way.” Buffy lifted a finger in protest. “I know exactly how that will go and I am not leaving Spike alone with Xander to blah blah blah about… stuff.”

“You know, I didn’t share one thing with ole Rupert here ‘bout all your kinky needs ‘n sordid desires. Have a little faith, slayer.”

Buffy looked pointedly at Giles.

“I see your point,” he muttered in defeat.

“Now,” Buffy said, grabbing Spike by the bicep and lifting forecefully. “Get. Up.”

“Bloody hell, woman. Lemme grab my bloody coat.”

She released him, eyes locked on his back as he ambled toward Giles’ coat hanger and slowly put his leather coat on.

“You know, I was watching something. Not that you care.” 

“Correct. I don’t care. Now, let’s go .”

Spike sighed heavily and went to the door, gesturing for her to lead the way. “Ladies first.”

“Actually, evil backstabbers go first.”

“Is there nothing you won’t pick a fight about?”

Buffy shoved him through the doorway.

*****

“I’ll tell you one thing, slayer, I am not helping you kill my friends.”

They were walking side by side through the cemetery beneath a crescent moon.

Still brandishing her stake, Buffy rolled her eyes. “Please. Like you have friends.”

“What’s this bloody field trip all about then?”

“We are finding you a place to live. You being dead and all, this seemed the appropriate place to find it.”

Spike halted his steps. “So then, you’re not dusting me?”

She took a long breath. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because…”

Buffy kept walking, hoping a little rundown shed would magically appear which she could call sun shelter and thus feel like she wasn’t condemning him to death if she left him here.

Spike caught up to her. “Because…?”

“Because if you really are drinking pig’s blood and you’re not hurting anybody— except me, of course, with your entire existence— then… then I guess you get to live. On a technicality . Or whatever.”

He smiled. “Wow. How touching.”

“No touching.”

“And here you are playing real estate mogul for me and everything. A stupider bloke than I might actually think you care.”

“Good thing you’re only moderately stupid then.”

She glanced at him and he was grinning as he pulled out his pack of cigarettes and began casually lighting one. “You know why I’m still here— why I can’t leave this place. You’re not that stupid.”

Buffy held up her stake threateningly and lowered her voice to match. “If you get the chip out, it won’t matter if you leave. I will hunt you down, and I will take care of the situation.”

Standing too close to her, he blew some smoke in her face, unafraid. “Is that right?”

Refusing to cough, she just glared instead and tried not to breathe. “ Yup .” 

“Let me get this straight. I’m awful bloody stupid you know. What you want is for me to live here in delightful little Sunnydale, and if I do run off you’re gonna chase after, find me, and… oh, how do I say it? Give it me good. That sound about right?”

She was shaking her head as he said every word. Why did he have to make everything sound like a freaking seduction?

“I want you where I can keep an eye on you. Because I do not trust you.”

“So you’re gonna keep a real close eye on me?”

“Yes!” she snapped, exasperated.

He smirked and pulled the cigarette out from between his lips, holding it loosely between his fingers. “How fun.”

“And if you get that chip out—”

“ When I get that chip out—”

“ If you get that chip out—”

“ — I’m the one who will kill you , slayer.”

“ — I will kill you without hesitation.”

Eyes blazing furiously just like his, Buffy found herself breathing way too hard. Spike was all but panting, too. He was standing so close to her that she could feel his body thrumming with energy— like a cat pre-pounce.

He reached a hand up toward her face, but stopped himself from touching her. He just let the hand hover an inch from her cheek before snapping it back and biting his own lip hard.

His eyes were roaring, but impossible to read.

Buffy felt her own emotions rollercoaster with anger, disappointment, frustration, and fear. She took a quick step backward, eyes still locked on his. He looked… dangerously curious.

“Find your own place to live,” she said gruffly.

Then she turned and she fled.

Chapter 12

Buffy went back to her life.

Willow greeted her every morning with a well-intended “I’m sorry” and bid her goodnight with the same. Bookend apologies that eventually Buffy asked her to stop doing as it only managed to start and end her days with thoughts of the pesky vampire she was trying so desperately not to think about.

Nighttime was the worst.

Lying in bed trying to fall asleep, somehow Buffy could hear his sweet and spicy little nothings in her ear like he was still right there, still all over her.

“You aren’t done, precious.”

Buffy rolled over, frustrated that one night could haunt her like this. She hugged a pillow to her chest. 

Slowly her anger would fade and she imagined again his voice rumbling through her and making her skin blaze like it had before. 

“You look stunning. And— like a bride.”

“I’m your bride.”

Now, she felt dull and lifeless.

She didn’t want to feel dull and lifeless. She didn’t want to see sweet Riley Finn smile at her and feel so very little. He was so nice and… nice.

Spike was not nice.

“How do you want my big cock in you, slayer? Want me to push it in, real nice and slow-like? Or do you want me to pin you to the wall with it?”

“For fuck’s sake, Spike! Don’t be an asshole! Just—”

“Asshole, huh? Brilliant.”

But who cared if Spike was nice or not? Why did NC-17 visions of someone so deplorable even pop into her brain when Riley was talking to her about cheese or midterms or the good ole days back on the farm?

She was officially ruined.

“How’s it feel to be ruined, pet?”

“Spectacular.”

She was going to need so much therapy.

*****

After three nights of very little sleep, Buffy had actually pulled herself out of bed, thrown on some clothes, and headed to the cemetery to work out her frustrations on the local rising vampire population.

“Ha!” she declared as she flipped a vampire over her back who’d been trying to ensnare her from behind. “Not today, Sneaky McSneakerson. I have slaydar you see, and you—” Buffy pierced his heart and watched him dust. “Are blinking bright freaking red. Well, were. You were blinking red. Now, you’re just gray.”

She shrugged. No need to explain her jokes to piles of dust.

Spike appeared in front of her as if from nowhere. “What color ‘m I then?”

“Jesus, Spike!” She shoved him away reflexively and he smacked back against a tree.

He grunted and then rolled his eyes. “Hell of a greeting for your dearly beloved.”

Buffy held up one finger as she prepared to launch into an elaborate protest, but she put her hand down and shook her head, turning to walk away from him instead. It wasn’t worth it.

“Aw. Don’t be that way,” Spike teased, jogging to her side.

“Leave me alone.”

“So I found myself some digs. Literally. It’s a crypt— a real nice one. Very spacious. See it?” He pointed. “‘S right over there. Prime location. Think I might even be able to rig up some electric. That part’s a work in progress. But I need a telly, and a fridge would save me on trips to the butcher. Gotta keep the blood fresh, you know, or what’s the bloody point of unlife?”

Buffy stopped walking. She looked at Spike, standing there in his long leather coat like this was just what they did on Tuesday nights.

“Why are you talking to me?” she asked. “Like we’re some kind of talking buddies?”

Spike snorted. “Oh, sod off. Think you’re so bloody important, don’t you? You, darling , are in my neighborhood. I saw you and I came over to tell you I did just as you asked. Got myself a place.”

“ Well, good boy, Spike ,” Buffy responded patronizingly.

“Even when you ought to be pleased you’re still a right bitch about it.”

“I’m very pleased. Thrilled in fact,” she said flatly, brushing past him and clenching her stake harder. “Now please go be in your hole in the ground.”

Spike caught her arm, which made her eyes roll dramatically.

“Don’t you want to see my place ?” he added with weird emphasis.

Buffy stared at him, confused. Then, somehow he lifted one expectant eyebrow and it all clicked into place. “Ugh!” She shrugged her arm out of his hand. “No! You can’t be serious! You think I’m gonna sleep with you again?!”

“Well, you did say it was the best shag of your life.”

“Yeah— well— so? You said I was perfect and that you loved me. You even said you’d always been drawn to me. Now look at you. All… drawn. You’re like a— a pesky stray cat who thinks I have food.”

Spike lowered his chin and looked at her sharply. “Don’t get your lines crossed, slayer. I don’t love you. I’m not a ridiculous git like Angel. I only said all that to you ‘cause I was under the bloody spell. Yeah, I liked fucking you and would quite fancy doin’ it again. I have no problem admitting that. Seeing the slayer on her knees with my cock in her mouth? Hearing you beg in that little girl voice o’ yours? Feeling how wet I got you with my fingers? How one little touch—” He stroked her arm and lowered his voice. “ — made you positively tremble for me. Tell me what’s not to bloody love about that.”

Buffy’s breath was shaky as she lowered her eyes. Weakly, she said, “Don’t touch me.”

“Too late,” he snarled.

She looked up and she could swear he was peering directly into her soul— which was honestly impressive for someone so soulless and stupid and awful.

She turned away from him and walked quickly toward the cemetery gates.

“This isn’t over, slayer!” Spike called. “We both know that. We both know I’m already in you. It’s too late to go back!”

Buffy ran.

*****

She hated him.

She hated him so much. 

And maybe even more than that, she hated that he was right.

That stupid idiot was right. He was in her. And he was spreading through her like an infection— like an ugly rash. She had a thousand degree fever and there was no cure because no one but her could ever understand this absurd situation.

These were her desperate, pathetic thoughts as she stood beneath the hot water in her dormitory shower stall at 3am, remembering his words from the cemetery and getting herself off with her fingers.

*****

When Buffy woke up the next morning, she couldn’t speak.

In fact, no one could speak. It was an epidemic of voicelessness. Sunnydale had been plagued by silence.

She spent her day brainstorming with her panicked friends and her always calm (so long as she wasn’t having sex with vampires) watcher, trying to figure out what was going on and how to punch it or stake it or kill it some other way. They white-boarded and they gestured to one another and they researched. 

But it didn’t help Buffy with that first infection. In fact, it seemed to make it even worse because she couldn’t chatter about other things to get her mind off of the dirty vampire who’d been getting her off without even touching her. 

All the eerie silence was just making her remember everything more viscerally, without distractions.

She ran into Riley that night and she kissed him like he might be the cure to her affliction. Like a pink, Pepto Bismol kiss. It was a nice kiss— nice like Riley— but as soon as it ended, she knew it had only worsened her condition.

God help her. She went directly to Spike’s crypt and she knocked on his door.

When he opened it and stood there silently before her in his black t-shirt and jeans, surprise and intrigue on his face, Buffy couldn’t help thinking suddenly how perfect this scenario was.

Spike couldn’t talk and she didn’t have to. Hallelujah. Miracles did happen. 

A Spike who couldn’t talk— and couldn’t murder! — was just the kind of Spike she liked. Crap. ‘ Liked’ felt like a really strong word to describe how she felt about any Spike, but it was time to get past that. She was on a mission here.

Buffy held up her white board. ‘What happens in Vegas… ” she’d written.

Spike read the words and rolled his eyes. He used one thumb to gesture to a far away Las Vegas and then put one silencing finger on his own lips. He knew the bloody deal, he was saying.

Buffy nodded. She erased the black words and glanced at him nervously. He arched a brow and crossed his arms, which were bare and distracting with their neat bulges. Spike really was so much more appealing when he couldn’t talk.

Taking a deep deep breath, Buffy peeled off the paper from the sticky tabs on the back of her white board. She dropped each paper to the floor as she went, causing Spike to point at the discarded trash and gesture wildly as if he was suddenly a passionate environmentalist. Buffy glared at him until he calmed down. 

Then she pressed the board up to the back of Spike's crypt door, just like she and Willow had done in their dorm room to leave each other messages. 

Spike looked annoyed by this dumb college trend being forced upon him, but Buffy ignored his thankfully silent disgruntled protests and uncapped her marker. Lifting it like a stake, she felt her heart drop all the way down to her toes.

This was the moment of truth. 

This was what they called a turning point. This was pivotal. And this was wrong . 

But she had to know if she could ever feel that way again— like all her oceans were burning and it was okay because she could fly . She had to know if it was a fluke, the spell, or if Spike was maybe the devil himself. 

She couldn't just not know. 

In all capital letters, she wrote, "WELCOME TO LAS VEGAS!" 

Tearing her eyes from the words to look at Spike was terrifying. She'd never put herself out there to someone like this. Most definitely never to someone who she already knew hated her. Somehow that didn't matter with the prospect of rejection before her. She didn't want to be rejected, even by someone she hated. Maybe even especially by someone she hated. 

Steeling herself, Buffy finally met his eyes. 

Spike was totally baffled by her dramatic gesture. 

He shrugged and pointed at the board like he couldn't even read English. God, he was so stupid. 

Buffy funneled her nerves into fury and slammed Spike against the door, the back of his head hitting her shiny new Vegas sign. Now, he just looked really mad. 

But she kissed him before he could react. She held his wrists tight against the door and held his mouth with her own as she informed him of exactly what she was trying to say without saying anything at all. It was better this way. She wasn’t sure she could say it in words.

She pulled back to see his reaction.

This time he seemed to understand.

Spike’s eyes glittered with excitement. His lips curled into a grin. He clapped his hands to her hips and tugged her in against him. God, he was already hard.

Frantically, they kissed and they ripped each other’s clothing off like someone had suddenly shot a starting pistol. All Buffy could hear were the dull thuds of their bodies against the crypt door and the smacks and suctions from their mouths, gasping breaths and sharp exhales.

He picked her up and she wrapped her naked legs around him, not knowing where they were going but along for any ride on this body. 

She would’ve made a sound if she could when her back touched cold concrete. She would’ve made a sound, too, when his cock plunged deep inside her without preamble. She would’ve cried his name like she’d done before in that far away hotel room.

Spike, Spike, Spike…

Somehow this was perfect— the sex without words. She didn’t have to justify it or hear her own shameful, ragged moans. She could just… feel.

Oh, her brain was all twisted, but her body was thrilled— here, being fucked on top of a sarcophagus by a rude, deadly vampire.

Yep. This could only happen in Vegas.

Notes:

The story originally ended here. So that's why it may feel endish. But it isn't over. Many chapters left to go!

Chapter 13

When Buffy finally got her voice back, it was hoarse.

She told all her friends, Giles, her mom… she told them it was because she’d screamed so hard to break that ooky silent spell that had overtaken Sunnydale.

That had been a lie.

It was a lie she’d been willing to believe herself until the second time she’d gone to Spike’s crypt.

“Oh! Ah! Oh, God! Ahh! Uhhhnnnn… Oh, fah— fuh— ahh!”

Sitting on the cold disgusting floor beside her, Spike laughed mercilessly when they finally, um, finished.

“Still can’t say the word ‘fuck’ can you, slayer? Yet you want to so badly.”

Buffy glared at him as she reached across his body for her discarded blouse. He snatched her wrist, and she rolled her eyes as he traced his fingers up and down her forearm. “What do you care what I say?”

Her voice had that run-ragged edge to it again. Damn.

“‘Cause it’s fun.” He licked her arm for— whatever reason, making her grimace, and also throb. “I’m gonna have you sayin’ all sorts o’ nasties soon.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Do you just say ‘no’ reflexively? Or are you really that naive?”

Buffy tore her arm out of his hold. “Give me my clothes.”

Spike pretended to think about it. “Mmm. No.”

“ Why must you be so infuriating?! Why?!”

He shrugged and grinned. “Bored I guess.”

Feeling way too exposed, sitting naked beside the naked vampire, Buffy covered her breasts with one arm and attempted a snappy clothing retrieval. But he was fast and he spun her onto his lap instead.

“Uhnt ah.” He tsked. “My crypt. My rules.”

She should so kill him.

“ Fuck . You,” Buffy said, annoyed when his devil grin only grew.

“Told you it wouldn’t take long.”

“I—”

“Now then. Why would you want those silly little things when you only just got here? We still have so much to do.”

Spike’s sharp blue eyes— they really were unfairly blue— were taunting her. They were digging into her against her will and seeing things in her that she didn’t want to see herself. Desperate, slutty, Buffy-shaped things that had no clothes on. He bit his own tongue as he leered at her and ugh .

“You’re awfully eager,” she sassed.

“You scampered off too quick last time—”

“I had to break the spell. Sacred duty, hello .”

“Yeah, but not before gettin’ your pretty pussy seen to. Seems you got a new duty now, slayer,” Spike said with a salacious grin. 

Buffy rolled her eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

“Face it, pet. You’re beholden to my cock and its every whim.”

“Yeah, I’m leaving.” She pushed his torso back as she snatched her shirt and hopped up and out of his very dangerous hold.

Naturally, Spike popped right up with her. “You came to me . With your little sign.” He pointed to the dry erase board on his door that still read cheerily “WELCOME TO LAS VEGAS!” The pointing drew her attention to his biceps which were… so… bicepy.

“Yeah, I— I did. I… chose to come here.” She thought about it. “And I’ll leave when I choose to, too! You can’t stop me.” Buffy touched a finger to his temple, silently indicating his chip, but he swiveled his head to catch her finger between his teeth. “Ah,” she breathed, not wanting to be enticed as his eyes met hers and his teeth turned into lips, sucking her finger. “I don’t understand you,” she uttered unwillingly.

Spike plucked his lips from her finger and she quickly pulled her hand back, shielding it possessively with her other hand. As if that meant anything when she stood there completely naked before him.

“No, my little pet. You don’t understand yourself .”

Buffy’s brow furrowed, but she didn’t argue. She didn’t understand herself. Didn’t understand what it was about him that had consumed her thoughts ever since Las Vegas. Was she really so shallow that she’d compromise all her morals for some mind-blowing demon sex? She hadn’t thought she was that kind of girl.

“Get on your knees,” Spike said, eyes dancing.

She scoffed. “Again with the resounding N-O. I’m going back to my dorm—”

Buffy jumped as he clapped his hands on both her arms, holding her firmly in place as he ducked his head to capture her eyes. “If you ever wanna do this again, you ought to give as good as you get. How many times’ve I eaten up that pretty cunny for you now?”

Buffy thought the answer, but she refused to say it. It had been a lot. But it wasn’t like she’d demanded it every time. His face just seemed to… gravitate toward it. That wasn’t her fault.

One of his fingers grazed the length of her arm as his voice dipped. “You think you’re ready to leave the city of sin so soon? Haven’t shown you half o’ what I can do.”

“You’re evil,” she said, no emotion behind her words, hardly even knowing why she was saying them. 

“Yeah,” Spike agreed casually. “Now get on your knees, slayer. Suck my evil cock.”

Why did his flippant evilness have her throbbing with need all over again? She had just had a mind-bendy orgasm, and yet here she was actually considering round two. There had been a lot of rounds on their “wedding” night, but maybe that had been the spell at work. Maybe it had felt so good because of the spell…

There was a way to find out.

Frustrated beyond belief, Buffy shoved Spike hard against the cold stone wall of his crypt. He grunted and glared at her as she walked toward him, chin held high, and then grabbed the hard length of him. Whatever words had been about to come out of his indignant mouth disappeared as he inhaled sharply at her touch and his lips curled back into a smile.

“I’m not your pet,” she whispered as she pumped him with her hand.

Spike put a hand on her cheek and she wanted to move away, wanted to bite his thumb, wanted to scream, wanted to tear her eyes away from his heated ones. But she didn’t do any of that.

“You’re dyin’ to be my pet.”

“Spike, I swear to—”

“Or do you prefer to be called ‘wife ?’”

It had been easier then. That’s for sure. Things had only become horrible on top of horrible when that stupid spell broke. Reveling in that newlywed bliss had been… well she struggled now to think of any more care-free time in her life.

“I’ve… I’ve never— um…” she drifted off, embarrassed. 

Spike’s brow arched scrupulously. “Never sucked a bloke off? Bollocks. You did it in Vegas—”

“That was the only time! And— and I was basically drunk. On… something. I—”

“Well, luckily, slayer, it’s not bloody rocket science.”

Buffy looked down, watching her hand as it moved up and down his shaft, the bulging tip shiny with his leaking desire.

Spike’s voice lowered again, all velvety and calm. “Feasting with your eyes first, eh?”

Honestly, the sight of his penis was becoming less disturbing to her than the sight of his face reading hers. Better to just examine this undeniably whoa specimen of a body and all its intriguing, needing… parts.

“Take a taste,” he whispered. “Know you want to.”

Buffy felt herself trembling, her body warring with itself, barely containing her conflicting desires to just give in and do whatever he said and to punch him in the jaw and end this temporary bout of insanity.

“Think how good it’ll feel on your tongue…”

How did he make this sound so appealing? She’d always thought of blowjobs as something degrading, but suddenly she didn’t know why she had that impression. Had she degraded him by asking— okay, forcing— him to go down on her? She hadn’t thought so. And he’d seemed all too happy to do it.

“Down your throat…”

Buffy could feel goosebumps spread across her arms.

Suddenly, Spike pinched her chin and lifted her face up to look at him again. She thought he was going to say something, but he didn’t. He just bore his gaze into hers for a second and then he kissed her— slowly, lips hugging hers. She hadn’t kissed him like this before. His tongue slowly, forcefully swirled around hers, consuming. Buffy whimpered as he sucked and stroked and took her tongue into his mouth, making her knees wobbly as she clung to his arms.

When the kiss broke, Buffy panted for air and she could swear so did he. His head cocked to one side and his eyes were sparkling as he studied her and her reaction.

She’d gotten the message.

Without a word, Buffy moved her hands from his arms to the sharp bones of his pelvis. She pushed him by the hips, back against the wall. He let out a pleased little exhale, but was smart enough to not say anything as she lowered herself down on her knees.

She let her open hands skim the outsides of his thighs before sliding them toward his center and curiously feeling the soft curls of hair surrounding the base of his dick— which leapt with excitement before she even touched it. It was kind of a compliment right? How this little— okay, that was definitely the wrong word— body part practically danced for her when she wasn’t even touching it. 

Buffy could feel his anticipation, feel his body thrumming against the crypt wall as he waited for her. It made her feel powerful. Shockingly powerful. She lifted her eyes up to look at him as she traced the length of him with one little, teasing finger. He smiled a little in response, though there was a discomfort to his expression, too. Restraint. Crumbling patience.

“It’s…” Buffy suddenly looked down again. “So… big?”

Guys liked hearing that, right? And it wasn’t a lie…

Spike snorted. “We’ll work on the talk later. I reckon your innate talents lie elsewhere.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” she snapped, squeezing his balls for emphasis and making him gasp at the warning. “I’m… trying . For some reason. God help me.”

Then he did something weird and he said, “Sorry, pet. You’re right. Shouldn’t do that.”

Huh. Spike was actually nice to her when she had his balls in her hands. She wasn’t sure if she preferred that to their normal barbs and banter or not.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” he added, a note of hope in his voice, a smirk on his face as he looked down at her.

Buffy kept her eyes on him as she nuzzled her cheek against the side of his bobbing erection. She gently kissed one side. Kissed it again on the other. Gently kissed the tip, tasting salt on her lips.

“Bloody hell,” Spike murmured, eyes locked on her.

“You like?” she asked tentatively.

He grinned. “Got your own style, slayer. I should’ve known.”

“You should’ve.”

Then she opened her mouth and slurped him in as deep as she could.

“Bloody buggering fuck .” 

It felt better than she’d expected, her mouth so full, his skin so surprisingly soft. She remembered that one night in the hotel room, how she’d gulped him down like cotton candy for a few moments. It had felt so natural then. She hadn’t hesitated. She hadn’t over-thought. She’d just leapt in and done her best to worship her new favorite part of her husband— blech! — with her mouth. And, well, wasn’t this still her favorite part of Spike? It was only fair to give it a little extra attention.

“Yeah, baby… fuck yeah. A bleedin’ natural you are.”

His little whimpers and groans and happy sighs spurred her on as she bobbed her mouth up and down.

“Use your hands,” Spike uttered, stroking her hair back out of her face.

Buffy batted her eyes up and he gave her an encouraging nod as she put a hand toward the base where her mouth wasn’t quite reaching. She slid it in rhythm with her mouth.

“Atta girl.” He groaned. Loudly. It sent a bolt of desire to her own sex and she could feel herself getting more and more heated as they continued. “Fuck, slayer. Fuck you and your hot little mouth.”

Spike gathered up the bulk of her hair in one hand and wrapped it tight around his. For some completely inexplicable resason it felt so good, it made her moan, which made him moan back because she guessed it must feel nice on his dick or whatever. Vibrations and all. Or maybe it was the sound of her moan? She didn’t know. All Buffy knew right now was the firm salty flesh in her mouth and—

She gagged a little. He’d pushed her head down further than she’d gone herself.

“Oh, yeah,” he growled. “Gonna choke you on my cock, slayer.”

Whoa. That was… whoa. Buffy made a little protesting whimper, but he seemed to like that, too, and he thrust her head down again. She sputtered and then suddenly he was shooting down her throat with a blissful exhale. She swallowed it all down, mostly because the idea of him pulling out and getting it on her kind of disgusted her and these seemed to be her current in-the-moment options.

Buffy pulled back, and she stood. She staggered backwards a bit, feeling horny but also completely overwhelmed.

“That was brilliant,” Spike said, smiling.

She furrowed her brow and, again, looked around for her clothes. Spotting them on the floor, she snatched them up.

“Oh, like that didn’t turn you on? I can smell you.”

“Well, don’t! It’s gross!”

Spike rolled his eyes, watching her pull her baby blue panties back on, which was taking considerable focus and effort. “What’s the problem now? You liked that. I know you did. Think I can’t tell when you like somethin’ or not?”

She had.

“This was all a ginormous mistake! That’s the problem!” 

“You need to loosen the fuck up, slayer. It’s just sex . Nothin’ to get all high ‘n mighty about.”

Buffy tugged her tank top on over her head and glared at him as she spat out the words, “It’s not just sex . It’s sex with you .”

“You like sex with me.”

She taunted him brightly, “Well, as you know, I don’t have a whole lot to compare the experience to. Maybe I don’t know what I’m missing and any guy could—”

Spike spun her around so her back was to his chest. He tore her panties that she’d worked so hard to put on right off her body and threw them aside at the same time as he tugged her shirt down and forced her breasts out into the open again. 

He half-dragged her the remaining feet to his sarcophagus and bent her over it. “You take that back.”

Then he was in her. And she didn’t know how he’d gotten so hard again already, but he was and he was stretching her the sarcophagus was cold beneath her hands and her boobs smooshed up against its rough surface as Spike plowed into her from behind, one hand clawing into her hip and the other gripping her hair again.

She yelled incoherently and at the same time found herself lifting up on her toes and arching her back to deepen his angle.

“This a mistake, too?” Spike uttered breathlessly as his dick pounded against her cervix, painfully and wonderfully and ughhh . 

“Probably,” she managed to squeak out before adding a loud and broken, “Uhhnnnn!”

She was the slayer. She could stop this. She could kill him even. And no one would care. There might be a few questions, but… no one would really care.

“You think your little school boys will treat you like this?”

“ No… ohhh…. ohhhhh… ”

His hand cracked down on her ass and Buffy yelped and gasped, but then that same hand was stroking her clit like a skilled magician and she exploded like dynamite in his hands.

There was no time to revel. Spike pulled out and she felt weak as he turned her around to face him again. He came all over her stomach and thighs and she was too stunned and physically satiated to protest. 

“Next time, don’t be such a bitch,” he said as he steadied his breaths and met her hot gaze.

Buffy stared at him for a long moment, her brain feeling numb and brained out. 

Then she punched him in the nose. She grabbed her clothes. And she left.

Chapter 14

Buffy was in the cemetery, shaking with rage and other things as she swiped at the goopy mess on her stomach and rubbed her hands in the grass trying to get it off— get it all off— trying to get him off of her .

It felt hopeless.

Eventually she took a few deep breaths and put her shirt on over her stickiness. Her panties were ruined, but she tugged her tight jeans on, not loving the feel of the denim on her bare, icky skin.

Oh, this was bad. This was… well, she hadn’t thought it could get worse after the neverending night in Las Vegas masquerading as a wedding night. Yet, somehow, she had managed to make things so much worse.

This was her fault after all. She’d come to him . He was right about that. She’d thought she could just casually have some life-altering sex with her mortal enemy and it would be no big deal. She was a college girl now! She could be more brazen and explore her sexuality. Everyone did it! It was fine !

So why did she feel so guilty? Why did she feel like she was doing this all wrong?

Buffy trudged toward the gate, detangling her hair with her fingers as she went. She needed to go back to her dorm. She needed to pretend she was normal. Or at least normal-ish. 

She needed a shower.

*****

“Hey, Buffy!” Willow greeted merrily as Buffy closed the door to their shared room behind her. “Ooh, yikes. Rough night in the cemetery?”

Buffy frowned and felt her cheeks beginning to flush. She must look awful. “Um. Yeah. Pretty rough.”

“But you won. Yay you!”

“Uh huh. Yeah, I totally… won.” She floated toward her dresser and picked up the hairbrush on top, hastily attacking her blonde tangles. She thought about how Spike had tangled his fingers in her hair, how he’d forced his dick down her throat again and again— okay, brain!

“I know you’re probably wondering why I’m still up,” Willow began.

She hadn’t been wondering. She glanced at the clock and noticed it was after 2, so she probably should have been wondering.

“I had some coffee from the lounge— I think caffeine really affects me! No wonder Mom told me not to have it— but anyway, I started, um, well… okay, do you remember Professor Walsh saying that people process their traumatic events better when they stop and write about them?”

Buffy set down her hairbrush. “Uh, yeah. I think. Rings a vaguely bell-shaped thing in my head.”

Willow nodded eagerly. “Well, she did. And she’s so smart.”

“She is. The smartest.”

“So I thought ‘ooh! I’ve experienced traumatic things!’ Or at least it feels traumatic when your boyfriend does boyfriend/girlfriend stuff with… not his girlfriend. I mean, who defines trauma anyway? I am not happy, so… I have to do something about it! Something productive. Something preferably magicless. So that I won’t accidentally make my best friend sleep with vampires or anything like that. Reminder that I am very sorry about that, by the way.”

Buffy picked up her pair of Tweety Bird pajamas. “Mhmm. So you wrote about… about your Oz trauma?”

Willow smiled and pointed a finger at her. “Yes, and even better, I started a blog .”

“A blog ?” Buffy repeated with disgust, sticking her tongue out. “ Blog . Blech. That word is icky.” She said it again. “ Blog . It makes me think of barf.”

“Oy with the lack of support, Buffy.”

“Sorry.”

“A blog is like a diary, but on the internet.”

Buffy cringed. “So everyone can read it? Doesn’t that make it… not like a diary at all?”

“You decide! You can add friends and only let them read it. Or it can be totally private. You just set it all up however you want.”

“Uh huh…”

Willow shrugged and plopped down onto her bed. “I think it’s neat.”

“Well… good for you, Will. I’m glad you’re… processing.”

Her friend’s face instantly brightened. “Thanks! I am. I think I am. I’ll send the link to your school email!”

“Okay. Cool.” Pajamas and toothbrush in hand, Buffy moved toward the door, about to head to the communal bathroom. “Wait. You want me to read your diary? Are you sure?”

“Yeah! Of course. You’re my best friend, Buffy. I want you to understand what I’m going through. Sometimes it’s hard to talk about the hard stuff, you know?”

“Sure. Yeah. I get that. Okay. I’ll, um, I’ll read it tomorrow.”

Willow smiled, settling in beneath her sheets. “Sounds good.”

Buffy smiled back and escaped into the hallway, thinking about the many things that were hard to talk about.

*****

Willow was up bright and early the next morning for her 8am class, but Buffy was pretty sure she was incapable of attending her 9:30.

Her body was sore in disconcerting places and even though she’d washed away the literal reminders of Spike and what they’d done together, she couldn’t wash away the feeling. Buffy pulled her comforter up around her and buried her face in her pillow, wondering for the four hundredth time what the hell was wrong with her?

Eventually she rolled out of bed with a heavy sigh. She plopped down in front of Willow’s computer and started it up.

As promised, an email with a link to Willow’s blog awaited her.

Buffy clicked.

 

Hello, world!! :-)

I'm a freshman at UC Sunnydale, and this is my first blog ever!! I love the internet so I'm super excited to join the blogging world, but to be honest I'm coming here for sad reasons. My boyfriend cheated on me. Yup. Then he broke up with me. And then he left town. I know, I know... he sounds like a HUGE jerk but I swear he isn't. I even cheated on him once (like an idiot!!! that's a whole other story) and he forgave me and was so nice. Way nicer than I deserved. He's a better person than me in so many ways and I just feel like I NEED him. He made me better and he made me feel safe and happy and now he's gone and I can't sleep anymore.

I don't know what I'm going to do…

Buffy read it again. There was something about seeing Willow’s struggles in bare black and white text that made her more sympathetic. God, it was a good thing Buffy hadn’t had a blog throughout her roller coaster relationship with Angel. She did not want to know what that would have looked like all written out.

There was an option to comment, but Buffy would have to make an account. She sighed. It felt rude to read it and not comment. Willow was her best friend, and she was clearly looking for support. Maybe if she got this kind of support, she’d lay off all the rogue spell-casting.

So Buffy made an account and left her friend a message:

I love you, Spell. I’m always here for you.

There. That was supporty. And true!

Feeling accomplished, Buffy shut down the computer and went to take a shower. Another shower. She needed all the showers.

*****

Buffy finally dragged herself out of her dorm room at noon. Xander was supposed to meet her and Willow for lunch on campus, so Buffy walked along the quad with her messenger bag full of obligatory books hanging by her side. 

Part of her felt like everyone could tell, just looking at her, that she’d had depraved dirty vampire sex last night. No one said as much, but maybe they were picking up on the vibe…

Then Riley appeared, all clean and undepraved.

“Hey,” he said, jogging to her side and giving her a warm smile.

Buffy looked up at him. Wow. He was way taller than Spike. She’d almost forgotten. “Hi.”

“Hey.”

“You said that already,” she pointed out with a grin.

Riley grimaced. “I did indeed. Scratch the second ‘hey’ and go with the first.”

“Done.”

“I missed seeing you in class this morning.”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I had, um… a pretty gnarly headache.”

Riley’s brow furrowed with concern. “Oh no. Are you feeling better now?”

Buffy nodded, feeling her heart stir at his obvious empathy, feeling her guilt flare at her blatant terrible lying. “Yeah, I’m good now. Starving. Just popping my head out to meet some friends for lunch.”

“Was it one of those… wild too-much-to-drink kinda nights that tends to leave one with a pounding head? I stopped by your room last night, and Willow said you were out. It was… pretty late.”

“There was… definite pounding,” Buffy said, hating herself instantly. “But… not… not what you think.”

Riley put a hand on her arm, stopping her in her tracks. “Buffy, I know you’re… special. You don’t have to lie anymore. About what you do. The way you moved the other night, fighting those monsters. Your speed, your strength. I think you’re incredible.”

She stared up at him with wide eyes. “Incredible. Wow. That’s… that's a good word.”

“And that kiss…” Riley smiled dubiously. “I mean, we couldn’t talk about it then, of course. No one could talk about anything …”

Including very bad sex decisions.

Buffy fiddled with the strap of her messenger bag. “Yeah… um… I’m not so good with the wordage sometimes.”

“Same here. In fact, Willow was telling the class she was processing some emotional trauma with this blogging thing? Professor Walsh was really into the idea. I thought I might give it a whirl. Practice my own wordage .”

Buffy laughed and they began walking again. “Really? I can’t see you blogging .”

“I can’t exactly see you blogging either,” Riley teased.

Indignantly, she said, “I could blog. If I wanted to blog. But I’m… too busy to blog.”

“Right. Because you… are… I don’t actually know what you are.”

“Capricorn on the cusp of Aquarius.”

Riley laughed as they reached a concrete table and Buffy set her bag down. “You’re very funny.”

“Thanks.” She smiled shyly. Riley made her feel so refreshingly normal.

“But really,” he pressed eagerly. “What are you? What do you… do?”

Buffy hesitated. “You mean your super top secret military commando dudes didn’t send you the memo on me?” Riley stared at her blankly, so she took pity on him. “I’m the slayer.”

“A slayer ?”

“Well. The .”

“What does that mean? You slay demons?”

“Mhmm,” she said with a one-shoulder shrug. “Vampires mostly, but I’m versatile.”

Riley’s brows knit together, pondering this. “You’re a vampire slayer .”

“Typically. Vampires are kinda my specialty. They’re… what I do.”

*****

“Ahhh!! Yes! God, yes!”

Spike chuckled as he lifted his head up proudly and licked his glistening lips. “You do taste delicious, sweet slayer.”

Buffy was still catching her breath, lying back against Spike’s new-to-him disgusting old green chair. Slowly, shaking as little as she could manage, she brought her knees together. But Spike tore them right back apart. 

“I prefer these open at all times,” he said with a grin, looking up at her.

“Fuck you,” she said half-heartedly.

“Ooh. Glad you’re finally in the spirit of things.”

“You are pure evil. And I don’t know why I keep coming back here.”

Spike tip-toed his fingers from her knee, up her thigh. “Does it matter?” 

Buffy narrowed her eyes at him, but she didn’t know the answer. She didn’t know if it did matter. Did it matter that she might legally be married to this freaky corpse? Did it matter that he might not be doing evil lately, but he’d done a whole hell of a lot of it in the past? Did it matter if the sex was really really really good? 

Yeah, that last part was seeming to matter kind of a lot.

Spike’s fingers found her center, and she shook her head weakly, but he just leered at her and used his other hand to lay one of her legs over his shoulder while he teased her clit. “Should’ve known shagging you’d be the holy grail o’ fucks. I should’ve known…”

Buffy let out a scattered breath, watching him inspect her without a hint of bashfulness and touch her with such reverence.

“Slayer blood’s an aphrodisiac for a vampire. Your watcher ever teach you that?”

“You can’t bite me.”

Spike’s eyebrows bounced. “Dunno. Might be worth the pain. Sex so often is.”

“You would say that.”

“May be that the chip don’t go off if you want the pain. If the pain feels so good…”

He shifted from her clit, sliding two fingers into her very, embarrassingly wet opening. Buffy moaned, letting her head fall backward and closing her eyes as he stroked her just right and her hips began to move of their own volition.

“ Yeah . Look at me. Look at me while you fuck my hand, little pet.”

Buffy did look at him, so she could glare. “I told you I am not your pet.”

Spike shook his head, seemingly bored by her protests. “You’ve come this deep into the woods, little red. You think the words we put to it make a bloody difference at all?”

“I won’t let you call me—”

“Fine.” He pulled his fingers out and gave her clit a hard pat that bordered on hitting, but felt kind of scary wonderful. “Go writhe in someone else’s crypt then.” 

Buffy clapped her legs back together, sitting up straighter. “You’re such an asshole.”

“And you’re a bitch. But I fuck you good anyway. I’ve always been a generous lover.” He stood up, looking irritatingly good with his shirt off. “How generous are you?”

“With vampires? Not very.”

“Then get out.” Spike turned his back to her and wandered over to his makeshift kitchen area— wait, since when did Spike have a refrigerator ? “Not gonna waste my time bloody wooing you into something we already know you want for Christ’s sake.”

Buffy watched him pull out a bottle of something that looked alcoholic and pour it into a short glass. He lifted it to his lips and took a sip, finally making eye contact with her. 

“Bugger off,” he said, the epitome of apathy.

Feeling very confused now, Buffy readjusted her sundress (she’d learned a valuable lesson from the terrible denim fiasco of last night) as she stood up and followed him.

Spike crooked one eyebrow at her curiously.

“Can I have some?” she asked, looking at the liquor bottle and then back at him.

Spike’s eyes narrowed, but he pulled out another glass and poured. He looked at her as he slid it over.

Buffy picked it up and took a sip. It was absolutely the worst thing she’d ever tasted in her entire life. “Bleugh! Yuck! Ugh .” 

When she could open her burning eyes again, she caught him smiling in a weird friendly kinda way, which he dropped quickly. “Didn’t think you’d fancy somethin’ so strong. What do you like? Piña Coladas?”

Damn him. She did like her mom’s Piña Colada wine coolers…

Buffy just gave him a shrug, to which he smirked.

“So what’s your plan, slayer? Use the power of alcohol to loosen yourself up and act as slutty as you already know you want to with me? That way you can write it all off tomorrow when it hurts to walk?”

Why did he always see right freaking through her? It was getting annoying.

“Do you care?” she asked, taking another horrific sip of his nasty booze and making another unflattering face.

Something twinkled in his eyes. “Can’t say I do particularly.”

“Exactly. You’re in this to get off. I’m in this… to… get off. So, who cares how we accomplish this ‘getting off’ mission?”

Spike chuckled darkly as he poured her some more. “Whatever you gotta tell yourself. Pet .”

Chapter 15

Notes:

Hey, so... if you enjoy dirty dirty sex, you're gonna love love this chapter!

“I feel… heavy.”

Spike smirked as they both set down their empty glasses. 

“Do I look heavy?” Buffy asked, brain feeling all soft and fuzzy like a teddy bear. She had a teddy bear brain.

“Not particularly. Shall we see?”

She felt herself frown. “Whatdoyoume— ah!” 

Spike swept her legs out from underneath her and held her in his arms. “Don’t seem very heavy to me.”

“Yeah, well… you’re super strong. Not a good judge of heavy .” She rested her head on his bare shoulder. Everything was super spinny.

“Held you like this once before. Your dress was whiter. You remember that, love?”

“I. Do.” She giggled. “Get it? I do? ”

When Spike laughed, she could feel the vibration against her cheek. “Think I got it.”

“I’m funny. I’m a funny girl. Riley said so.”

“Who’s Riley?”

“This… guy . He’s like a soldier or something. And also a TA I guess? He kissed me when we all lost our voices. Or maybe I kissed him. I don’t really remember. Why are you still carrying me?”

Spike set her on the counter, or whatever Spike pretended was a counter in his little nifty crypt kitchen. “This boy kissed you, and then you came to me beggin’ for a shag?”

“Uhhh… maybe?” Buffy pointed a finger into the center of his chest. “But I don’t remember any begging.”

“It’s all in the eyes with you. Your pretty, pretty mouth—” He ran a finger over her lips, and she nipped it with her teeth. “Does a lot o’ fierce barking. But your eyes—” He cleared her hair back from her face. “Your eyes scream fuck me, fuck me, I need it .”

Buffy crossed her legs to ease the building ache. She could feel her heartbeat accelerating. 

“Say it, Buffy.” Spike growl-whispered, “Say it with your mouth this time.”

God, he was so intense when he wanted to be. Those eyes, that jaw.

She licked her lips, not breaking his fiery gaze. Softly, she said, “Fuck me. Fuck me. I need it.”

First he grinned victoriously, and then the grin faded away. He seemed surprised and curious or… something. She was too drunk to figure him out. He was unfigurable under sober conditions.

“Please,” she added to be polite. Her mom would be so proud.

“Bloody hell.”

His mouth was hard on hers, bruising and bossy, taking over her. 

“Mmmph.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, gyrating against him as his tongue did magical Spike-tongue things.

One hand under her ass and the other wrapped around her back, Spike swiveled her off his pseudo-counter and slammed her against the nearby wall instead.

Buffy let out a grunt and then grabbed his hair tight, yanking his mouth off of hers. “Fuck me. Please, please, please.”

He was holding her up, pinned against the wall, with one hand while his other unzipped his jeans. There were definite perks to doing this with a vampire.

Freed from his clothing, Spike looked at her again, grinning.

Buffy was practically humping his abs, she was so wound up. She could tell that he loved it, but she didn’t care. The alcohol was doing its job and all she cared about right now was how good it was going to feel when he pounded her into this wall. 

Her one hand was still gripping his hair possessively. Her other snaked down, searching for the prize.

When she found his raging hard dick, she couldn’t help saying, “ Yes .”

“You greedy whore,” Spike said, looking pleased.

“I said what you wanted, you jerk.”

Again, he shoved her against the wall, this time covering her mouth with one hand. “Bad girl. You were doing so well, too.”

Buffy let out a frustrated exhale through her nose. She was getting dangerously close to just punching him in the face or biting his hand, but then he definitely wouldn’t fuck her. 

Spike set her feet on the floor, his hand still on her mouth. Her breathing was noisy and desperate as he pulled her dress up and slipped a hand between her legs. Buffy whimpered at his indelicate touch.

He held up his wet fingers and removed his hand from her mouth. “Open up, little pet.”

Back in the echoey far away part of her brain, Buffy heard the words say no . But the up close, much much louder part of her brain said make him happy and he’ll make you feel so so good .

So she opened her mouth and let him stick his fingers inside. It was kinda wiggy, tasting her own arousal. But if she kept her eyes on his, she could almost feel it turning her on just as much as it was clearly affecting him.

“Suck.” She did. “Very good girl,” he breathed, a bit of wonder to his voice. “Such a good girl.”

He gripped her hips hard and then smoothed his hands up her sides. He moved to her breasts, massaging them a bit, then slowly pinched her nipples with growing, growing pressure.

“Ohhhh,” Buffy cried, eyes closing. “Ohhhh, God. Why’sat so good?”

She heard a faint chuckle. Then he lifted her dress off and over her head, dropping the thin floral fabric to the floor. He looked her up and down. “You are bloody hot. Slayer or no.”

“Mmm,” she responded, practically delirious with desire at this point. “You’re hot, too.”

“Am I?”

“Oh, yeah. I wanna— I wanna bite your abs.”

Spike snickered and rubbed her clit idly, which made her mouth drop open with pleasure. “Maybe next time. Think you wanted something else first.”

“ Yes ,” she uttered helplessly.

He used one finger to flick one of her stiff nipples, which made her yelp. Spike grinned. “Think I’m lucky the slayer’s got a penchant for pain with her pleasure.”

He did it again, to the other nipple this time and Buffy moaned. “Please. I’m dying.”

“Oh, little lamb. This is nothing . I could torture you for hours and hours and then still give you nothing.”

“But—”

“But you’ve been so good. You just want that big bad cock in your empty, empty cunt, don’t you?”

Buffy put a hand on the cock in question. “Yes.”

He swatted her hand away. “Suck it. Then maybe I’ll give you a ride.”

Out of breath just from the thought, Buffy felt her brows dig deep with frustration and surprise. “But—”

“When will you learn? You do what I tell you to, slayer. That’s how you get good ‘n fucked.”

Her heart was hammering now. He flicked her nipple again and she jumped. How did it hurt and feel amazing at the same time?

But then she fell down to her knees and she didn’t think too hard about it. She didn’t wonder why he could command her like this. She didn’t wonder why she kind of liked it. She just took his raging erection into her mouth and sucked it like he’d asked. 

Spike braced himself with a hand on the wall and looked down at her. “That’s it, little pet. That’s just right. Eat it up. You’ve been so good. Gonna reward you good for this.”

“Mmmmmm…” she responded, mouth too full of vampire dick to be sassy. Or at least that’s what she’d tell herself later.

Then he pulled himself back sharply, and she fell forward onto her hands and knees, looking up with confusion.

“Look at you,” Spike said. “On all fours. You are my pet.”

Buffy huffed and sat back on her ankles, frustrated. “What do you want now?”

He smiled. “Those words from your lips are quite the start.”

“I— I don’t know what I’m doing!” she snapped. “I’m not good at this. I just—” She could feel herself getting emotional and she tried to fight it because now was so very not the time for that .

Spike dropped down onto his knees in front of her, his dick bobbing ostentatiously between his legs. “Don’t you ever say you’re not good at this, slayer. I wouldn’t be interested if you weren’t.”

Buffy felt her lower lip jut. “But I— but you keep stalling — you clearly don’t really want to— you don’t want me . You just want your stupid dick sucked, and now you don’t even seem to want that.”

“Oh, I want that,” Spike said reassuringly. He looked half-amused, half-concerned. “I wanna do everything with you, Buffy. Wanna fuck you in every which way I can think of. I was only teasing you. Pushing you outta your comfort zone. It’s really all the better with some build up.” He stroked her hair back behind her ear. “In fact, you’re so good at this, I forget sometimes how new you are to the game.”

Buffy blinked at him, not knowing if she should believe him. Not knowing if she wanted to.

Spike looked like he was thinking deeply about something as he studied her face. Finally, he said, “What do you wanna do, slayer? Take the reins for a bit.”

Her stomach flipped nervously. “I— I don’t know.”

“Sure you do. What were you wishing I’d do to you? Lemme do it for you. Told you I’m generous, and I don’t lie.”

“You don’t?” she said flatly.

Spike shook his head. “Not my thing, lying.”

She actually believed him. 

“I don’t know,” Buffy sighed. “I feel kind of… out of the moment now. Embarrassed. Embarrassed to be embarrassed…” God, stop talking, self .

Spike cocked his head to one side. “I can fix that.” He crooked a finger, gesturing for her to come closer.

She only hesitated for a moment, but then she was inching forward on her knees and gingerly placing her hands on his shoulders.

“You just relax now,” he murmured like she was a skittish horse. God, this was so embarrassing.

But then he was stroking her clit in soft little circles and kissing her neck. It was all so gentle and unusual for them and what she was used to, but it felt really good. Her hands began to wander, down his upper arms, squeezing his bulgy muscles as she went. She touched his chest, his back, the back of his neck, all while he kissed hers.

It wasn’t long before she was thrusting against his hand again and she felt like she needed to be even closer to him. She moved forward, straddling his thigh. She looped her arms around his neck and arched back, catching his smile as he leaned down to suck one of her nipples into his mouth. It was like electricity shooting from his tongue and teeth, through her body, all the way to her toes. She’d never thought sex could be like this. Until Spike, she’d always thought it was part A into part B and repeat!

Now there were so many letters.

She pulled herself back upright to kiss him, slower this time. Then she whispered, “Lay down.”

Spike didn’t hesitate at all. He did just as she said, waiting expectantly.

Buffy touched the smooth length of his penis with a sort of mesmerized unreality. This all seemed like something she wouldn’t do, so it was a little like controlling a dream— no, a fantasy. She was acting out a fantasy that she’d never even known she had.

She crawled up his body and leaned over him, her breasts hanging down as she pressed his tip to her entrance and hovered there in that anticipatory state.

“You like to tease, too,” Spike commented with a grin.

His hands came up to her ass and before she could react, he pushed himself in at the same time as he squeezed her flesh.

Buffy screamed. Then she looked at him like he was a wizard and he’d just performed a magic trick. He hadn’t. All he’d done was what he’d told her: build up.

“Give it me good now, Buffy.” He slapped her bottom and she inhaled sharply.

Then she rode him at a gallop.

“Oh. Oh. Oh. Ohhhhh.”

Spike looked up at her, mouth open with pleasure, the corners curled with a lusty grin. “Yeah, baby. Fuck me. Fuck me with that super-powered pussy o’ yours. Go on, slayer. Show me those pretty titties. Touch ‘em.”

She squeezed her own breasts, feeling like a goddess or a whore or something in between.

“You are so hot. Show me all your muscles now— oh, fuck yeah, there they are. Fuck .” 

Buffy yelled as she came, angry almost that it would end this soon. But even as she slowed, feeling her body shift from alight with lust to dull with overstimulation, Spike took control of her hips and kept her moving. “You can do it again, pet. Just keep with me.”

It felt weird, and her rhythm was all thrown. Spike seemed to know what to do, though. He rolled her over and lifted one of her legs into the air, stretching it back as he pounded into her. “Pinch your nipples, baby. You like that.”

Did she? She tried. Oh, yep, she did. She really did.

She started to mewl with escalating volume as the pleasure sank back into her body. He’d stubbornly fucked her right back into her feverish state of desire.

“There you are, Buffy. There— you— are .” He grunted with a powerful thrust. “Can’t get enough, can you?”

“Ohhhhhh…”

“You’ll do anything for me, long as you get this cock.”

“Ohh, God… ”

“Tell me, slayer. Say you’ll do anything I say.”

“Yes! Oh, yes!” 

“Pinch harder.”

Buffy did it, not a contradictory thought in her brain. She felt herself contracting hard around him as her nipples began to ache.

“Now squeeze ‘em together. Just for me. There’s a good girl. Say my name while I shag your lights out.”

“Spike, Spike… oh, God, Spike… ”

He erupted, a groan pouring out as he came and his eyes went dark. Maybe she was just too drunk, but she could swear there was a hint of gold in them. 

Buffy kept her eyes on his as he shuddered through his orgasm.

When he’d caught his breath he cocked his head to one side. “Want me to finish you off?”

She nodded mutely, and he smiled.

“Turn over.”

She was surprised, but she did it without question. The questions were all just so… in the way.

On all fours, she waited and then she jumped as she felt the strange but growing-to-be-familiar sensation of Spike’s cool tongue circling her opening.

“Oh, fuck,” she uttered.

Spike pulled back and laughed. He put a hand between her shoulder blades and pushed her front half down against the dirty floor of his crypt, her bottom half sticking up obscenely as he used his hands to spread her apart.

He blew some air on her and whispered, “You wanna come, wifey?”

Oh, God. She did. She really did. But did he have to call her that ? She chose not to say anything and just arch her back and thrust toward him.

“Beg me for what you want and you know you’ll get it.”

“Please…”

He slapped one side of her ass. “Do better.”

“ Please , Spike. God. Please… just please…”

“Say nothing but my name, slayer.”

He dove in and he feasted on her like it was Thanksgiving again. Only this time she was the helpless one, tied to his metaphorical chair. Or maybe she was the turkey. It didn’t matter because—

“Spike, Spike, Spike. Ahhhh! Spiiiiiike… Spike!”

Buffy crested sharply, and she felt his fingers digging into her thighs. Her cheek was against the cold ground, her mouth hanging open unbecomingly. Her brain had taken a major pause on brain-ing.

Spike pulled back and rubbed her ass with both hands. He gave it a light pat and he chuckled. She could hear him licking his lips. “Christ, if Angel could see this.”

That was a sobering stake to her heart.

Suddenly, she felt like an absolute idiot with her face in the dirt, her ass in the air, Spike’s name screamed wantonly from her mouth. 

Buffy scrambled up, but he snatched her back, pulling her close against him and trapping her there with his arms. She could fight him, but her whole body was so flooded with not caring that it was too hard. He whispered darkly in her ear, “You think he’d be ashamed of you— letting me fuck you however I please? You never gave him your body. Not like this. Do you still love him? Still care what he thinks?”

“Stop talking.”

“We both know I can do whatever I want—”

Buffy broke from his hold and turned around and slapped his face. “ No . You can’t.”

Spike put a hand over the cheek she’d slapped and smiled at her almost fondly. “Yes, I can. And you’ll come back for more tomorrow.”

She could feel her thoughts tangling, still fuzzy with alcohol and orgasms. “Is this what men are? Have sex and they treat you like—”

“Bloody hell. You come to your enemy for a shag, and I will treat you like the horny bitch you are. What did you expect? Roses ‘n sweet talk?”

Buffy snatched her dress from the floor and tugged it over her head, feeling braver with it on. “ No . But you don’t need to bring up Angel! You’re just— just taunting me! You’re just making everything harder than it already is!”

Spike rolled his eyes, standing up and walking casually across the room without any clothes on. “Not really my problem, slayer.”

“It is if you ever wanna do this again.”

He pulled some blood from his fridge and unscrewed the lid, cocking a brow.

“I know you want to do this again,” Buffy said confidently, hands on her hips.

Spike took a sip of his blood and he grinned, but said nothing.

“So maybe you should try being a little bit nice to me.”

“Sorry, slayer. Vampire here. We don’t play nice— ‘specially with you.”

“Just don’t talk about him,” she said, softer this time.

Spike’s head tilted to one side. “You do still love him.”

Buffy broke their eye contact and turned to hastily tug her sandals on.

“You poor thing,” he murmured, almost to himself, before taking another drink of his blood.

She glared at him and she slammed the door behind her when she left. 

Chapter 16

So there was this guy. 

He was… an angel (lol). And a demon. He made me feel… important. We felt important. I was SO happy with him but it was the most painful thing in the world at the same time. It felt like (this sounds dramatic but it really really isn’t) we were cursed. And even though we loved each other SO MUCH, now I think we were always destined for badness. 

I don’t know. Sometimes I think I shouldn’t even bother with love. At all. Ever. For me, it is NO exaggeration to say that the one guy I ever really cared about turned into a total monster when we finally… you know. It just all went kablooey! Catastrophe. It was a mega masterpiece of fail.

He’s gone now. I’m not a child anymore I guess. And I’m beyond confused about what’s next in the guy department.

 

Buffy hit the “publish” button and let out a soft exhale of relief. Willow was right. There was something cathartic about writing it down and sending her thoughts out into the foreign seas of the internet. Like her own message in a bottle, tossed without care into the world wide ocean web.

She’d been thinking about Angel lately. Mostly because she was haunted by her recent interactions with Spike, and she couldn’t help but compare and contrast. Hm. That might make for an interesting blog post…

Another time maybe.

Today, she needed to actually go to her classes. She needed to do normal college girl things— things which did not involve vampires. At all! The slaying of vampires or the screwing of them. Just classes and homework and friends and maybe she’d even be a good daughter and call her mom!

Yup. That’s what she was going to do.

*****

Spike slammed her against a tree trunk, grabbed her boobs through her blouse, and smashed his mouth to hers. 

Buffy almost protested. She considered it. But then his knee went up between her legs and it felt so good to be pinned there by him and that wicked, wicked tongue.

After a moment of kissing and moaning and— okay, grinding— she finally did work up the nerve to shove him away and catch her breath.

Spike laughed and casually shoved his hands into his coat pockets.

“What’re you laughing at?” Buffy snapped.

“Your cute— and pathetic— obsession with fighting me.”

“Hello! I’m the sl—”

“Slayer, yeah. Saw somethin’ ‘bout that on the business card. Or was it the marriage certificate?”

Buffy rolled her eyes and picked up the stake which she’d actually dropped when Spike had unceremoniously interrupted her patrol. That dangerously distracting… jerk.

“Guess what I did today,” he went on, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and tapping one out.

She furrowed her brow at him even though he wasn’t looking at her at all, and then she turned her back, walking off. She was here to patrol. Not chit chat with Spike. Or make out with Spike. Definitely not to… do anything at all with Spike.

He didn’t seem put off by her attentive focus to her sacred duty, just bounded to her side without a care in the world. “Come on, slayer. I’ll even give you a hint.”

“No thanks.”

“It rhymes with head.”

Buffy glared at him. “Dead? You’d like to be dead? Or— deader?” 

Spike pointed a finger at her before lighting his cigarette beneath a cupped hand. “Cute.”

“Ugh.” She looked around as she began walking again, desperately hoping for a distraction she could hit. “You know what’s not cute? Smoking!”

He inhaled some cancer into his stupid cancer-proof lungs and blew out a long, satisfied puff before following her. “I got a bed.”

Buffy stopped walking.

At his amused snort, she began walking again.

“Even sprung for new sheets.”

That stopped her again. “You paid for sheets? New, non-icky ones?”

He looked like he was attempting complex algebra as he considered that. “Well, they are new.”

“You’re a criminal,” Buffy said with disgust.

“Uh, yeah. Killed loads o’ people, too, if you recall. Luckily, that don’t seem to matter if the slayer’s feelin’ frisky.”

Buffy turned and punched him square in the jaw and God it felt amazing. “Shut up.”

Spike grabbed his jaw and looked somewhat amused, somewhat super pissed. “Gimme some money, and perhaps I won’t steal.”

“No.”

“This marriage is awful lopsided.”

“Lopsided, huh?!” Buffy felt her voice rising to hysterical Buffy levels as she prodded his chest with the blunt end of her stake. “You think this marriage is lopsided? Huh? That’s what you think, Spike?!” His eyes widened with surprise. “First of all, buddy, this is not a marriage! This is— this is— well, it’s temporary insanity! That’s what this is! Obviously. That’s the only explanation. But it’s sure as hell not lopsided. Because, you know what? Yeah, I might be having the best sex of my life with someone completely deplorable and dirty and bluh! But you—” She wacked his chest with the side of her stake, and she got a satisfying thrill from the way he jumped in response. She narrowed her eyes. “You are having the best sex of your life, too. Only you have a hundred years of experience to compare me to. And I still think I’m the best you ever had. That’s why you’re following me around right now. That’s why you love reminding me that we’re married.” She surrounded the word in air quotes with her fingers.

Spike grinned coyly and stepped in unnaturally close to her. “Maybe I love reminding you that we’re married because every time I do, your tiny top blows right off your head.” He inhaled from his cigarette. “Steam—” He exhaled right into her face. “ —pours out your pretty ears. And then you fuck me even harder the next time you crack. Ever consider that, little girl?”

She shoved him hard and he staggered backward laughing. “Do not call me that! And don’t pretend to understand me.”

He rolled his eyes this time. “Women all think they're so unique. You all want the same bloody things.”

“You’re an idiot, Spike. You don’t know anything about women!”

Spike scoffed. “I kept a woman for a bloody century, and you think I don’t know what women like?”

“I think you know what crazy hobags like,” Buffy said with a perky smile.

He clapped his hands onto her arms, making her jump. “Explains your attraction then, huh?”

“I am not—” she started to protest, but realized how stupid it was to try. “I am not… myself these days.”

Spike smiled at that and shook his head. “You’re lucky I can’t hurt you.”

“You’re lucky I can’t kill you.”

Their eyes burnt into each other, the air around them all but sparking in the dark.

Finally he said, “Come see my new bed or I’ll shag you right here for anyone to see.”

*****

Buffy had chosen the bed, and it wasn’t a bad bed.

In fact, it was pretty comfy. The sheets were all slidey and gold and felt decadently soft against her bare skin. Sometimes, it turned out, crime paid. 

God, she was horrible. All her morals were completely gone. Lost in a ditch somewhere. And here she was getting fucked from behind by a man— a thing— she absolutely despised.

Everything was awful.

“Oh, God!!!” 

Everything except this. 

He pumped into her just right, and he knew it. That evil bastard always knew exactly when he’d hit her perfect spot, and it was starting to piss her off how unbelievably good at this he was!

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!” Buffy shouted.

She was pissed, but not stupid.

“Yeah, baby, take it. Take my big cock. You love it. Gonna fuck you so hard, slayer.”

“Uhhhhhhnnnnn…” She buried her face in a pillow. Mmm, it was nice to do this with pillows.

Spike’s movements slowed. “You know… we never did get to finish what we started in Vegas. I believe my bride made a request that was never fulfilled.”

Buffy’s brain wasn’t up for this riddle. “Huh? Why’d you stop? Don’t stop. I don’t like the— the stopping.”

Then she was struck by a brand new sensation that made her jump.

“Relax,” Spike said, in a surprisingly soothing voice. “‘S only my finger.”

“Oh… oh, I don’t know about—”

Something changed and she gasped sharply.

“You have to relax,” he reminded her.

“I’m— I am. I’m—”

“You’re not. Open up. Let me in.”

Oh, that felt like a metaphor or something. Buffy felt like she was supposed to protest or fight, but curiosity won and she did as he said. 

“Good girl,” he murmured.

Why did it turn her on when he said that?! Buffy closed her eyes and clenched her jaw, moaning deeply as he stretched her out with one hand and stroked her ass with the other.

“Gotta loosen this tight arse up…”

As soon as he said that, she felt herself tightening with indignation. “I hate you.”

Spike chuckled and slapped her playfully and why did those feel so good? “Quit bein’ a bitch. You’re gonna love this.”

She could tell from his finger she was going to love it.

“All right, now—”

“Ah!” Buffy cried as suddenly there was… more. “That hurts.” 

“Just wait a sec—”

“Ow!”

“Arghhh!” He fell over sideways clutching his head, growling and cursing incomprehensibly aside from the occasionally very comprehensible fuck and bloody.

Buffy looked at Spike, lying beside her on his back, forearm covering his eyes. She felt suddenly very self-conscious of her positioning and scrambled beneath the sheet to cover herself as Spike recovered from what looked like a chip firing.

“Are… are you okay?” she asked, feeling weird about the question as soon as it left her mouth.

“No,” he snapped.

Buffy rolled her eyes.

Spike removed his forearm and glared at her. “I’m not bloody okay. It’s unnatural what they done to me! I can’t live this way! Even you must see it ain’t right!”

“I… don’t think it was right,” Buffy said slowly. “But it’s better than you killing people.”

He sat up. “You know, if you’d piped down and trusted me for one sodding moment, you would’ve realized it only hurts at the start, and then—”

“Why would I trust you, Spike?!”

“Christ’s sake. Idiocy doesn’t become you, slayer.”

“You’re one to talk!”

“So you’re sayin’ that you’ve been shagging me because the sex has not been to your liking?” Spike cocked his head expectantly. “Didn’t ask you to trust me with your bloody taxes or lookin’ out for the well-being of your mum.”

Buffy frowned and looked away from him. “Well, it did hurt.”

They lay there, side by side, awkwardly for a long weird moment. He was looking one way and she was looking another.

“I’m gonna go,” Buffy finally said.

“Good. Yeah. Go.”

*****

Walking home, Buffy couldn’t decide if it was more or less embarrassing when the evil vampire sex went badly.

Whatever. 

She was almost back to her dorm when she heard her name and then there was Riley again.

“Hi,” Buffy said dubiously, hoping she looked somewhat decent at this hour after some half-assed slaying and some, uh, other ass stuff.

Riley smiled at her in that wholesome, I’d-never-touch-your-asshole kinda way. “Another late night?”

“Not my latest.”

He nodded, smile big. He looked down at his feet and then back up at her. “Look, Buffy. I can tell you’re not an easy girl to nail down—” Her brow furrowed at that. “I thought it was clear with the— well, with that kiss in the street. But, now I don’t know. So I’m just gonna come out and say it. I’d love to take you out some time. On a date. With me. To be excessively clear.”

His hands were fidgeting at his sides as he waited nervously for her answer.

“Wow. A— a date.”

“If that’s what the kids are still calling ‘em,” he joked.

Buffy smiled at him. He really was sweet. And normal. So very normal. “Sure. I’ll go on a date with you.”

“You will?” he replied excitedly. “Great. How ‘bout tomorrow? Are you free?”

“Tomorrow… tomorrow…” She murmured as she thought. “Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow. I think so. I… yeah. I think?”

“Okay. I’ll take it. I can pick you up for dinner at seven. We can venture into the world outside of campus. I hear it’s swell out there.”

Buffy grinned. “That’s the rumor.”

His smile really was adorable. “I’ll see you then, Buffy.”

“See you then.”

She watched as he walked off, hands in his pockets. She had a head-in-the-clouds feeling as she turned and walked the rest of the way to her dorm room.

Willow wasn’t there, but there was a note on the dry erase board:

Late night studying in the library! LOVED your blog!!

Oh, boy. She’d forgotten about the blog.

Buffy sat down and turned on the computer once again, waiting for everything to load. When it finally booted up and she went to check, she saw that her blog post had two new comments. Comments! Fun.

SpellingItOut said: I’m so excited you’ve joined the blogging world! This is gonna be so fun, sharing all our secrets and thoughts. I love your ocean background! And as for that angel of a demon guy, I think you’re gonna move on just fine. After all, you are a mega CATCH!!

XanMan said: you were always too good for that guy. hasta la vista, angie!!

She clicked on Xander’s name and read his first entry.

i like big butts and i cannot lie! i also like pizza and money and if you have some lying around, i’ll gladly take it off your hands cuz i’m poor and living in a basement with odor issues. k, i guess i’ve blogged now.

 

Buffy rolled her eyes. Willow was definitely gonna lecture him later.

She opened up a new window, and with a smirk on her face, she typed, and posted.

I have a date!!! With an actually cute, actually sane guy. Maybe there’s hope for this gal after all.

 

Shutting down the computer and getting her pajamas on, Buffy mused about what she’d wear tomorrow for her date. Maybe the hot pink halter she’d been dying to wear…

Then she got under her covers, and she was horrified to find herself replaying in her mind the night’s interactions with Spike.

She smashed her pillow over her face and groaned.

Notes:

I always struggle with my italics formatting on Ao3. I've tried to clean it up for the blogging at least. Let me know if there are any issues please and thank you, dear readers! <3

Chapter 17

“The breadsticks are just so good.”

“They really really are,” Buffy agreed, chomping into one. “Seasony.”

Murals of a colorful Tuscan countryside surrounded her and Riley as they shared a bowl of salad and a basket of breadsticks at the Sunnydale Olive Garden.

Buffy had nixed the hot pink halter idea and gone for a more subdued bohemian sundress in golds and burnt orange. Riley was wearing a light blue collared shirt and khaki pants. He hung on Buffy’s every word. He was really listening . And he laughed at her jokes. She liked that.

“So what’s it like being the slayer ?” Riley asked her with an intrigued little grin.

“Well, there’s a lot of laundry involved.”

He chuckled. “You should get a uniform.”

“Uniformity has never really appealed. Plus army green is so not my color.”

“I have a feeling any color could be your color.”

Buffy smiled and looked down bashfully, stabbing a crouton with her fork. “Flattery. Fun.”

When she looked up, he seemed concerned. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Oh, no, you didn’t. I like! Bring on the compliments. Did you see my manicure?”

He laughed. “Well, you’re very pretty,” he said easily, taking a sip of his Mountain Dew. “And so are your nails, and I like your dress tonight.”

She laughed and squirmed a little under his gaze. “So, tell me. What’s the deal with your secret identity?”

“Ah. Well. I’m not really supposed to talk about it…”

“Thus the ‘secret’ part. You’re hunting down demons and experimenting on them. Right?”

“Um. We— well, we… you see…”

“I bet you don’t call them demons, though. Got a fancy name for them like non sapiens? Unfriendlies?”

“Hostile Sub Terrestrials,” he clarified begrudgingly. 

Buffy nodded. “Right. Of course. HSTs.”

“I just… do my job.”

“Which is?”

“To do what I’m told,” Riley said with a shrug. “Keep order amongst the guys. Field whatever field work I’m asked to field.”

Buffy enjoyed a bite of salad, studying his face. His innocent, all American, trustworthy face.

“What?” he asked, smiling nervously.

“Nothing. It, um, must be nice having a… a team.”

“It is nice. We’re like brothers. I can count on them and they can count on me.”

Buffy nodded, feeling a hint of pining for that kind of camaraderie. The sharing of loads. She scooped out some more salad from the big bowl between them. “And you’re, um, okay with how the HSTs are treated by the— the… what do you call it?”

“The Initiative?”

“Huh. What exactly are you guys initiating?”

“Buffy, these aren’t really questions I can answer. I’m just a soldier. I don’t know the whys or hows. I don’t need to.”

“Right. Sorry. I…” She took a deep breath. “ Sorry . This isn’t the best first date talk, is it?”

Riley looked relieved. “No. I think I’d much rather talk about our favorite foods or movies. Where we grew up.”

“I… like… cheese?”

“Well, I did know that.”

Their eyes met and they descended into a nervous laughter together.

*****

When Riley dropped her off at her dormitory at 11pm, it felt very early.

It reminded her, yet again, how weird her life had become. 

“I had a great time,” he said, walking her from his car to the door. “I’m really glad we got to do this.”

“Yeah. Me, too. And tiramisu? A new favorite food.”

Riley laughed, “Glad to hear it.”

He casually slipped his warm hand into hers, and it warmed something inside of her that warm hand. It was all just so normal .

When they got to the door, they paused. Buffy suddenly realized she wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen next. This was college . And Riley was older and more practiced in college than her. She strongly suspected that she was supposed to invite him inside and let him touch her boobs at least. But maybe not? Riley grew up on a farm and spoke fondly of his mom, so maybe he wasn’t a boobs-on-the-first-date kinda guy. Some making out might be nice. He was really cute. But then again, Willow might be in their room and she and Willow hadn’t developed any kind of evacuate-the-room-immediately signal, so what was Buffy supposed to do if her best friend was just sitting there innocently doing some homework? They really needed to work out some kind of a secret code or—

“Let’s do this again,” Riley said, interrupting her thought spiral. “Soon.”

Buffy looked up at him and smiled. “Yeah. Definitely.”

He smiled back at her and leaned down nearly all the way to kiss her, but he didn’t take that final inch. He was waiting. He was letting her choose.

And she chose yes .

It was nothing crazy. It was just a sweet goodnight kiss. But the way he beamed as he pulled back afterward made Buffy’s heart swell.

“Goodnight, Riley,” she said, feeling floaty.

“Goodnight, Buffy,” he said softly back.

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Riley turned to go.

In a daze, she watched him walk away, gently touching her fingertips to her lips.

*****

“Tell me about your date!” 

Willow and Buffy were walking across the quad to their psychology class, books in their arms, the morning sun on their faces.

Unable to contain her smile, Buffy told her all about it and how sweet and gentlemanly Riley had been all night.

“Buffy! This is so exciting! Ah! I knew you guys would hit it off!”

“I know. He’s so…” She shook her head, still smiling. “He’s everything I’ve always wanted. He’s like Angel but without all the dark and murdery complications of Angel. He’s just a good guy who thinks I’m pretty. I love when guys are good and think I’m pretty.”

Willow was bubbly on Buffy’s behalf. “And he knows you’re smart and independent and badass, too, right? ‘Cause that’s a requirement.”

“Yes,” Buffy said firmly. “He knows I’m the slayer. He has seen me wield weaponry. Although he does grade our psych homework, so we might be iffy on the Buffy smartness.”

“You’re too hard on yourself. Homework is not an accurate gauge of intelligence. At. All.”

“As best friend, I believe it’s your job to say stuff like that.”

“It is. But it’s true, too!” Willow protested as they entered Keezell Hall. “I’m just glad you’re moving on from the… well— the spell and all that stuff that happened… because of the spell. Still so sorry by the way.”

“Mmm… yeah.” Buffy slid into a seat toward the back of the classroom, Willow following. “Me too. Me… too. Very glad I’ve moved on from all that...”

Class began. 

Professor Walsh dimmed the lights and instantly launched into a Powerpoint presentation on the id, ego, and superego. 

Inexplicably, Buffy found her mind drifting back to her latest encounter with Spike, in which his chip had fired and his attempt to fuck her in the ass had failed once again. She had to admit that his determination to do it was intriguing. What was so great about anal? Especially for guys? Wasn’t one hole just like another for them? Why was he so eager? Was it a conquest thing? My dick has gone where no dick has gone before.

She frowned and chewed on her pencil’s eraser as she contemplated this.

Then her stomach flipped as, suddenly, she noticed Riley’s eyes on her. He grinned when she looked at him. She smiled back and gave him a dainty three finger wave, wishing she’d been thinking about pretty much anything else other than what she’d been thinking about when he looked at her.

She should probably cut all this depravity with Spike off. If she was going to date Riley for real, she had a feeling that Riley would much prefer her to not be sneaking into crypts to screw an escaped Hostile Sub Terrarium or whatever it was they were calling vampires.

She’d had her fun. Spike had had his. It was time to be realistic. In the words of the great and full of wisdom Sheryl Crow, it was time to leave Las Vegas.

Hm. 

A little id-y part of her felt disappointed by this idea. Things had really been heating up, and as much as Spike was absolutely an evil asshole and drove her crazy whenever she was near him… she’d been learning a lot! About herself. About sex. About guys . It was… well, it was educational. And, damn, she was getting turned on just thinking about it.

She crossed her legs and focused on the superego. Yes, that is where her brain belonged.

Riley was looking at her again.

Maybe Riley was a secret sex god, too! One shouldn’t judge a book by its corn-fed cover. Sex with Riley could be even better than sex with Spike.

Why did she seriously doubt that?

Frustrated, Buffy started retracing the letters on her notes page.

Ego. Ego. Ego.

Superego. Superego. Superego.

Id. Id. Id.

Instincts. Primal desires. Unconscious. Aggressive. Sexual.

Buffy smiled at Riley again and Willow elbowed her with a delighted grin.

She listened to Professor Walsh some more, and ultimately decided she should really go patrolling tonight. For the greater good. And stuff.

*****

It was a little bit annoying when Buffy had patrolled for over an hour, done some really cool flippy moves, and Spike hadn’t popped up even once to sexually harass and annoy her.

She had half a mind to leave the cemetery and just go home. She could do homework or blog or whatever other people did at night. She could do that. With dignity, pride, and self-respect, she could do that.

Instead, she was kicking Spike’s stupid door in. Bye bye, dignity.

He arched a brow and set down the container of blood he’d been drinking. Sarcastically, he said, “Greetings, oh powerful slayer of doors.”

“Shut up.”

“Mmm.” Spike cocked his head. “No. It’s my house.”

Buffy looked around and scoffed. “Right. House .”

“What do you want?” His voice dropped. “As if I don’t already know.”

“I—” Should’ve thought of an excuse before entering. “Um.” He was walking toward her with that arrogant leer on his face and sexy sparkle in his eyes. “Found out some… s-stuff about the people who chipped you.”

That was… true. Ish.

All play disappeared from his features. “Do tell.”

“Um. Uh. Well… they’re called the Initiative.”

“Uh huh.”

“And they call demons— like yourself— Hostile Sub Terr…est…”

“Terrestrials?”

“That’s it!”

Spike nodded, looking vaguely annoyed. “So you really know a lot, huh?”

“I have a contact,” she said with a casual shrug.

“Brilliant.” He stepped closer. “I’ll just look ‘em up in the Yellow Pages and find their secret lair that way. Thanks ever so for all the new vocabulary.”

Buffy rolled her eyes.

Spike’s face changed. “Why don’t we talk about why you’re really here, Buffy ?”

Why did he have to say her name like that ?

“Okay,” she said sweetly. “Let’s.” She put on a braver face than she felt. “I… don’t think we should do this anymore… you know, the… sexing.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. Um… it’s just that… well, it didn’t go so great last time—”

“Because you didn’t listen to me.”

“Oh my God, Spike. Just shut up a minute.”

He grinned a little, but remained silent.

“It just— well, it seems an unfortunate note to end on… after all the thrills of… Vegas . And all…”

Spike looked amused. “So you want one last ride on Spike’s tilt-o-whirl o’ fun before you vomit and leave the park entirely?”

“Um… I don’t know how to answer tha—”

He kissed her. He kissed her in a very un-Riley way. With Spike it was zero to a hundred in 1.2 seconds. His hands were on her ass already and she could hardly breathe, but then he jerked back and looked at her inquisitively.

“You kissed someone else.”

“Wh-what?” Buffy offered feebly, vaguely remembering the kiss after the on campus dinner with Riley a few hours ago.

“That’s what this is all about. I can taste—” He smelled her neck. “ And smell him.”

She shoved him back. “Well— that’s— gross ! Don’t do that!”

“Were you planning to tell me?”

“Uh, no? What do you even care?!” she shouted. “I don’t wanna do this anymore! That’s all that matters.”

“Bollocks, you don’t want to do this anymore . We’ve barely begun.”

Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and Spike grabbed her wrists and uncrossed them. She tore her wrists from his hands and smacked his chest with the back of one hand. “You’re insufferable. And this was always a terrible idea. It’s only gonna get more terrible the more I enable it.”

“You came to me, slayer.”

“Well aware. And now, I’m saying… this is it. One last time— for God and country— and then I am doneso.”

Spike narrowed his eyes. “Maybe I don’t wanna do it one more time.”

She rolled her eyes again. “Right.”

“I’m serious. I don’t fancy bein’ a part o’ your bloody delusion.”

“And what delusion is that?”

“That it’s the last time. That you can walk away. That you aren’t standing there pining and imagining all the dirty fun we could have in my lovely new bed.”

She glanced in the direction of his ladder where she knew the slippery gold sheets were waiting down below. 

“I’m in you now, pet. Have been since the moment we said ‘I do.’”

Buffy shook her head reflexively. Those two little words and their three little letters would haunt her for the rest of her life. “I don’t pine for you.”

“No. But you pine for how you feel when you’re with me.”

“Whatever, Spike. If you don’t want one last go, then fine.”

“Fine.”

“ Fine .”

In a dark tone, he said with raised eyebrows, “You can go now.”

Biting her bottom lip, Buffy looked at him. His mouth might be saying ‘go,’ but his eyes were daring her to do something else. Everything with Spike felt like a dare.

And she was no coward.

So she shoved him against the wall and kissed him as fiercely as he’d kissed her a minute ago. She cupped his bulging cock through his black denim and reveled in the little grunts of surprise and lust that were falling from his lips whenever she snatched a breath.

Spike clenched his fingers around her upper arms and pushed her back just enough to speak.

Panting, inches between their mouths, his dick throbbing in her hand, he said breathily, “I told you… I don’t want you.”

“You’re a liar.”

“And you’re quite the gambler.”

Buffy squeezed his erection a little harder and he inhaled sharply.

“Are you gonna stop me?” she asked, realizing as she said it that he kind of couldn’t stop her.

“Are you gonna force me?” 

His eyes sparkled and she couldn’t tell what direction he was trying to encourage her toward. Was he excited or angry? Sometimes it was hard to parse that out with him. With them.

But his words floated around in her head until they finally settled and, suddenly, she felt like an absolute monster.

Buffy took a frightened step backward, holding her own traitorous hands to her chest. She watched his head tilt with curiosity as she dealt with the sick feeling growing deep in her stomach.

Slowly, she said, “I, um… I think you've had enough of your choices made for you lately.”

Spike’s brow furrowed, and she felt very out of place all the sudden. 

What was she doing here, smashing her body to his like he owed her something? The whole patrol she’d felt that way! It was absurd. And gross. What was wrong with her? Maybe that spell had never fully loosened its grasp on her or something.

“I’m… sorry,” Buffy uttered, spinning around, poised to dash out.

But she couldn’t do that because he had his hands on her now. And there was a fresh fire in his eyes that she didn’t understand in the slightest.

“One last time, eh?” he said. Then he grinned. “Let’s make it one for the books.”

Chapter 18

“Do that thing.”

“What thing?”

“The thing .”

“Need more information.”

“The— the flicky thing with your—”

“Ah…”

“... YES!!!”

Stars and bombs and other things that explode took over Buffy’s brain for a long, exquisite moment. She felt like she was flying and then, feathery like a feather, she floated back down.

“H-how…” she uttered. “How do you do that?”

Spike grinned from between her open legs. “A magician never reveals his secrets.”

He really knew how to make leaving Las Vegas difficult.

Buffy gasped as he nuzzled his face into her crotch and breathed her in with a sigh. “Smell so incredible. Every drop of you’s just divine—”

“Blech. Stop.”

He lifted himself up enough to rest his face on her stomach. It made her brow furrow curiously. It was somehow more intimate than what he'd just been doing to her in his annoyingly comfortable bed with the slippery gold sheets.

“So warm,” he muttered to himself. Then louder, “Prediction.” His deep voice rippled across her naked skin.

“Hm?” She squirmed a little.

Spike took his time saying, “You won’t be able to stop.”

“Stop what?”

“ Stop what?” He laughed, which was extra vibratey and ergh. “ This , you daft bint.”

“Wow. You really think highly of yourself.”

“What can I say? I've been around, kitten.” Spike lifted his head to look at her with a devil's grin. “I know when something’s good.”

Buffy maintained eye contact and said with a pout, “If only I didn't hate you with every fiber of my being.”

His grin widened. “Back atcha, sweetheart. But you ask me, I think the hate makes it all the better.”

She thought they'd stay locked in that eye contact for the next hundred years, neither willing to look away first, until suddenly his fingers plunged inside her again and she gasped and closed her eyes. 

“Gives a man a real sense o’ power, makin’ your face do that.”

How did he know just where to press? She didn't know just where to press!

“You see—” His fingers pulsed rhythmically on the magic Buffy button he'd pinpointed inside of her. “Normally your face is one I want to hit—” Pulse. “Kick—” Pulse. “Bite…”

Buffy moaned and lifted a leg onto his shoulder, her calf draped on his back.

“But now, like this…” Spike studied her face carefully as his other hand tweaked her nipple. “I actually find it quite lovely.”

A jolt of huh? shot through her, but she ignored it in favor of the jolt of wow he was shooting into her body with only his fingers like some sort of electric sex wizard. 

“Fuck me. Oh fuck. Just fuck me.”

“Mmm…” he responded like an asshole.

“Spike!” He removed his fingers and she opened her eyes to glare properly. “Hey, what—”

“Let's see how wide these legs can go.”

Spike took her ankles in his hands and spread her out.

“Oh, God ,” Buffy groaned, mortified.

He noted her reaction and snorted with amusement. “That’s the ticket.”

But then he pushed her legs up and back, and he let go with one hand, using it to gently tease her entrance with his cock— his evil, dangerous, stupid cock. She whimpered. He smiled.

And then he plunged in with one smooth stroke that she felt in her stomach. Buffy yelled brokenly as he groaned with pleasure.

Spike took her ankles and pushed them wide again. “Never been with anyone who could do this.”

“I’m the slayer ,” she sniped.

He leered at her. “Yes. You. Are.” 

Buffy tilted her head back and moaned as she lost herself.  

*****

When Buffy woke up—

When Buffy woke up…

When Buffy woke up?!

Her eyes shot open and instantly she was panting from the sudden panic at having slept in Spike’s crypt! 

She was curled up— naked, of course— in Spike’s stolen luxury bedding and there was a vampire sleeping deadfully beside her on his back. He had an arm resting over his head, exhibiting his total lack of stress, morals, or cares of any kind. And his face was… well, it was pretty is what it was. Objectively, she could look at Spike’s face, his… arms, chest, legs, eyes, and ass… and she could admit that he was good looking.

Fuck him.

Buffy picked up the pillow she’d just been snoozing on and smacked him with it.

“Bloody hell!” he growled. His eyes popped open and he snatched the pillow from her before she could launch her next attack.

Hysterically, she shouted, “How dare you let me fall asleep?! How dare you sleep?! What the hell time is it?! Why don’t you own any clocks?! There are no windows in here! Ugh! I hate you!”

“Christ, slayer, you’re an awful lot in the morning.”

“Oh, it better not be morning. I will die if it is morning.”

“It’s morning.”

“No!”

Spike rolled his eyes and scratched his stomach, yawning.

“How do you know?!” she squeaked.

With a sigh, he shrugged one shoulder. “Vampire.”

Nodding, Buffy said, “Right. Yeah. Mmkay. So, Willow’s gonna have… questions. God, I hope Riley didn’t come looking for me. Oh, I’m a terrible person. I’m the worst. I should join a support group. Do you have a phone?”

Spike arched an eyebrow. “You’re in a crypt, darling. Who’s Riley? This the bloke you're ruining all this fun for?”

“How do you not have a phone?!” Before he could answer, she answered for him. “Right. Because you’re a— a loser with no social life!”

“Harsh.” He sat up, the sheet drifting down, barely skimming his waist. He had these chiseled lines… “Tell me ‘bout Riley . Does he know you’re a married woman?”

Buffy made a face. “I am not , and no .”

“You are, and why not?”

“Be—cause…”

He tilted his head and looked at her expectantly. 

“He—” she sputtered, “He’s nice. He’s… just a guy. And it’s none of your business.” Realizing suddenly that she was in Spike’s bed having a chat, she shook herself. “I am so leaving.”

He took her arm and tugged her closer. “Don’t go, pet. We don’t have to talk about what’s-his-name anymore.” His lips went below her earlobe and he kissed his way down her neck. She felt her traitorous body throbbing within seconds.

“Stop it,” Buffy uttered weakly.

“Make me.” He stripped her of the sheet she was holding to her chest.

Buffy gasped as Spike touched his lips to her nipple. “He’s… good.”

“Who?” he asked between nipple sucking.

“ Riley .”

She yelped as he switched to teeth just before lifting his head to catch her gaze with his too-blue eyes. “How’s Riley shag?”

“I— I don’t know,” Buffy said self-consciously, trapped in his gaze. She raised her brows. “ Yet .”

He smirked. “You’re in for a rude awakening, I’m afraid.” He whispered, “You’re right spoiled now.”

Violence blossoming inside of her, she shoved him. “Quit acting like you know everything and everyone. You don’t even own a phone!”

Spike caught himself with his hands, but she shoved him again, making him grunt as his back hit the mattress.

“Now, you just stay there like that,” she said authoritatively, climbing on top of him and sinking blissfully onto his alert cock. “And don’t… say… anything.”

*****

If only it had been a week day, Buffy could have snuck back into their dorm room while Willow was in class. Unfortunately, she had done her accidental night with a vampire sleepage on a Friday and there was little hope of Willow being anywhere else.

Standing outside the wooden door, Buffy took a deep breath and pushed it open.

“Buffy! Hey!” Willow greeted, looking up from behind her computer.

Hoping she didn’t look as disgusting as she felt, Buffy lifted a finger to silence any further questions or comments. “I can explain.”

“Okay…” Willow said with a bit of uncertainty.

“Well. You see, there was this bad guy.” True. “And I was fighting him in the cemetery.” Kinda true. “And he— he was huge ! And he knocked me in the head and I, um, passed out and I spent the entire night on the ground.” Big fat lie.

“What?!” Willow stood and rushed toward her. “Are you okay? Where did it hit you? What kinda monster was it? Were there horns? We should call Giles!”

“Hey, whoa, no.” Buffy waved away the hand checking her head for bumps. “We definitely don’t need to call Giles—”

“But the badness and the hugeness and you never get knocked out!”

“That’s not true! I…” She noticed how worried Willow looked and she sighed. “Okay, I’m lying.”

Willow’s face contorted with a flood of mixed emotions. “Oh, so—”

“I was with Spike,” Buffy said quickly before she lost her nerve. Anxiously, she added, “Which… as you know, is… your fault. So…”

“You were with Spike?”

“Mmhmm.”

“All night? Wow, I thought you were just at your mom’s house or something.”

“Oh. That… would’ve made more sense than the head hitting story.”

“And the Spike one! I mean, you were with Spike?! All night?!” Her green eyes were growing wider and wider.

“Okay, you don’t have to yell it. And you definitely can’t tell anyone else. But, yes—” Willow gasped and covered her mouth with both hands. Buffy folded her arms over her chest defensively. “Ever since that stupid spell, we kind of… can’t stop.”

“Can’t stop… talking?”

Buffy looked at the ceiling.

“Okay,” Willow said in a high pitch, “Not… talking. You can’t stop… um… wow.”

“Yeah.”

“So that spell never broke for you two?”

Buffy looked at her friend anew. “I…” Maybe it hadn’t? Maybe that explained everything! Maybe… She shook her head regretfully. “No. It broke. Very clearly. Back in Las Vegas. It’s just… God, how do I say this?” She cringed. “The sex is so damn good.” 

She didn’t think Willow’s eyes could go any wider.

“It is still kind of your fault,” Buffy hurriedly added. “For starting all this in the first place. ”

“Right. Of course.” Willow nodded placatingly. “But, hey, fresh perspective time! ‘Cause I’ve been thinking about this. I did that spell because I was in enormous pain and so so heartbroken after Oz cheated on me and bailed! It was awful, and he was awful. So… if we just stop to remember that little chain of events, we could actually possibly maybe blame him for… um, everything?”

Buffy nodded. “Yeah. Okay. Yeah. Oz did this. Oz… is why I can’t stop sleeping with…” She couldn’t even say his stupid name. “Except that I am stopping! I told him last night. This was the last time. Never again. I hate him with a fiery hot hatred ! This can’t happen again. I won’t allow it!”

“Good. Good for you, Buffy! I mean, it’s Spike, he’s so… evil.”

“I know,” she said dubiously.

“And sleeping with the evil is… well, it’s dangerous.”

“So dangerous.” 

“You think you’re a good girl? You think good girls come all over big bad cocks?” 

Buffy gulped.

“And Riley—” Willow began.

“Yes! Riley! What about Riley?” Buffy said, pacing and attempting to purge her brain of evil cock thoughts. “He’s basically perfect and everything I’ve always wanted, and our date was so good the other night. You know he ordered an appetizer and dessert!?” 

Willow raised her brows appreciatively.

“I don’t wanna mess this up with him,” Buffy said sadly, sitting down on her bed.

“So, you won’t,” Willow said definitively. “It’s decided. You had some wild crazy vampire sex, and that was, um, great? But… it was just… an exploration.”

“Right, an exploration.”

“People explore things in college. In their twenties. It is totally normal.”

Buffy looked up at her hopefully. “Yeah. Yeah! My explorations might look a little… out there… to some. But I’m the slayer! I live on the edge! I… have spells put on me that make me do things that I’d never have thought about all on my own, but once they happen, well…”

Willow shook her head and made her determined face. “Damn it, Oz.”

“Yeah. Damn it, Oz.”

“Ugh.”

Buffy looked at her friend guiltily. “Thank you for… not judging me. I’ve been kinda judging me.”

Willow sat down beside her. “Of course, Buffy. You can tell me anything. And if things are too hard to tell me? Just blog them. You know, if you just… need to get stuff off your chest.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Wil.” They hugged. “Okay, I am in desperate need of a shower.”

“You do kinda smell like dirt,” Willow said, releasing her from the hug.

“ Thanks .”

*****

That afternoon, after much scrubbing and just as Willow was leaving for a meeting with some new Wiccan gal pals, Riley called to make plans for another date that night. 

He and Buffy chatted for a long time. He really was super sweet. Hanging up the phone, she felt entirely confident that she was making the right decision in never sleeping with Spike ever ever again and meeting Riley tonight for some delicious, low-fat froyo. 

Life was good. Life was right. Froyo was on the horizon.

Buffy decided to hop onto her computer and check her email.

New alerts from Livejournal. 

starting to feel like a no good low life loser. all my friends are smarter than me and richer than me and get to do the college thing. i, meanwhile, am in desperate need of a job that doesn’t depend on tips and my ability to afford gas. or a college degree. or good grades in high school. or muscles or smarts…… 

yep, i’m screwed.

Buffy frowned and left him a comment.

CaliBlonde81: You have heart and charisma and you’re one of the best people I know. You’ll find a great job soon! Xoxo, B

Xander might be down, but Willow’s blog was looking up.

One of my professors taught us about the id, ego, and superego today. I felt so many things clicking into place when I thought about that. For so long I couldn’t understand how my boyfriend, my perfect guy could cheat on me. How could he do that to me when he’s such a kind, thoughtful, compassionate person who always looks out for me? I realized the id took over. Just for a little while. Like, um… a werewolf (total metaphor obviously!). They’re not in control when that full moon comes out and badness can come out if you’re not ready for it. And we weren’t ready for it this time. Neither one of us. I swear when I saw him with her , he seemed almost as surprised as I was. His superego probably was.

As much as it hurts still, I’m starting to just… hope that he’s okay. That’s how you know you’re moving on right? When you leave the place of GRRR and you remember all the good and you hope that they’re… good? Because I do. I hope he’s good.

And I’m excited because I’m going to my first Wiccan meeting on campus tomorrow! I can’t wait to meet other students who are into the Magicks like me!

Buffy smiled. Willow was gonna be just fine.

She thought about what Willow had said about the id. Maybe Buffy was no better than Oz. Maybe all this stuff with Spike was her primal self coming out to play, no matter how very stupid it was. It just needed to come out, do its thing, and then go back into hibernation where it belonged.

Buffy began writing a quick post of her own.

College has been a lot more complicated than I expected. Like A LOT. 

I guess with my ex, I didn’t really think about what kind of girl I wanted to be. I just thought about him . What girl did he want me to be? It’s a little pathetic now that I think back.

Lately, I’ve been doing some crazy things. With crazy people. And I know I have to stop. I know that it’s wrong and will lead to nowhere good.

But, honestly, part of me is so disappointed. Part of me wants to ride the train right off the tracks just to see what would happen? 

That’s insane. I know. And do I want to die in a fiery train explosion? Big no.

But there’s just something about the fire that makes me want to touch it.

Buffy was pretty sure that nobody was going to understand any of this rambling except possibly Willow, but she went ahead and hit the post button anyway.

She really did feel lighter and clearer after putting words to her feelings.

Spike was a fire. Pretty and dangerous and bad for all things living. Particularly herself.

So, she would just have to make sure she was very diligent at dousing herself in metaphorical icy cold water any time she accidentally thought about him or his hands or his dirty kissable mouth.

“On your knees, slayer.”

Buffy ran her hands through her hair and let out a shaky breath. 

She needed to get ready for her date with Riley.

Chapter 19

Notes:

PREVIOUSLY.... after all the hot dirty sex with Spike, Buffy decides someone sweet and thoughtful like Riley Finn is just the ticket! She tells Spike that the sex stuff is over because she's got a guy in plaid to date now, and he promised to take her out for frozen yogurt. How's Spike going to take this? How is the date going to go? What flavor of frozen yogurt WILL Buffy pick? The drama of this story knows no bounds.

“There’s something not yogurty at all about frozen yogurt,” Buffy said thoughtfully as she held up her pink spoonful of tutti frutti deliciousness. 

Riley ate a bite of his chocolate vanilla swirl. “Well, you eat it with a spoon and it at least vaguely resembles dairy.”

“True.”

“But I understand your confusion when your cup is half full of candy.”

Buffy shrugged and scooped up a few marshmallows. “What can I say? I like the little marshmallows. Plus they weigh, like, practically nothing. They’re an excellent froyo topping value.”

He laughed. “I would happily splurge on… whatever candy weighs the most.”

“Big spender.” Buffy grinned. “You must really like me.”

“I like you a lot.”

Shyly, she looked down into her pink and white cup of fluffy goodness. Then she met his eyes. “I think I like you, too, Riley Finn.”

He looked extremely happy to hear that. He floundered a little on what to say next. “So, um—” He laughed nervously. “ — uh, what did you do last night?”

Buffy’s heart dropped as mental pictures of her sex marathon with Spike flashed through her mind. “Last night?”

“After dinner at D-hall, you said you had some things to finish up.”

“Oh. Right.” Ankles wide, boobs out, bleach-blonde head between her legs... “Yeah, I just, um… well, I like to—” Come a lot. “I had to—” End things with the sex maniac vampire she’d been seeing lately. “I patrol. In… graveyards.”

He nodded like this was normal. He really was a sport. “Makes sense. We’ve noticed heightened activity in the vicinity of cemeteries.” 

Eyebrows raising as she remembered Riley’s camo-loving side, Buffy said with a laugh, “Well, sure. When you’re dealing with the undead.” She took a bite. “Watch out for full moons, too. It makes demons all extra wiggy. Especially the furry ones.”

Riley laughed. Then he stopped. “Wait. Is that a joke?”

“Not really,” she said plainly, looking out the window and watching the innocent citizens of Sunnydale stroll along the downtown sidewalks. 

Maybe after the froyo, she should take Riley to the Bronze. It was a Saturday night. A good band was probably playing. Did Riley dance? It was a little hard to picture Riley dancing… slow dancing might be okay—

“Maybe you could show me around after we finish here?” Riley said, interrupting her thoughts.

“Oh. Yeah. Around Sunnydale? Um…” She gestured toward the big window they sat beside. “Behold.”

“No, I mean the cemeteries. I’ve been, of course, but… usually on a mission or something. I’ve never explored or gotten to know the ins and outs. I bet you know them like the back of your hand.”

“Some would say.” She uncrossed her legs, then crossed them again.

Riley seemed to notice her hesitation. “Nevermind. Bad idea. That’s like… asking for a tour of your workplace, isn’t it? Definitely not… romantic. There’s nothing romantic about mausoleums and tombstones.”

Buffy laughed a little too hard. “Definitely not! Not romantic . At all. But, um, no. It’s fine. I… actually, I probably should show you around. I would hate for a vamp to catch you off guard because you don’t know where the good crypts are.” She thought of one crypt in particular they need not visit. 

“Awesome.” Riley stood up eagerly and collected all their trash, tossing it into a nearby bin. “I swear, Buffy, you are a real one-of-a-kind girl.”

“Well, it’s in the title.”

“Hm?”

“Chosen one . Singular. Nevermind. Bad joke.”

Riley smiled at her anyway. “I think I just have a lot to learn.”

“Luckily you have me.”

Ha.

*****

The cemetery turned out to be pretty crawling-with-creepy-creepers. Perhaps due to Buffy’s recent vamp-straction— better known as Spike. She’d been a sucky slayer lately.

So it was a good thing they’d come.

Buffy got to see Riley actually fight a vampire, and he wasn’t terrible at it. He had some moves. Sure, she had to convince him that stakes and sticks were better weapons than any shiny army-issued ones, but after his first dusting with Mr. Pointy, he seemed to defer to her and her old school weapon authority. 

The vamp they were currently fighting swung Riley over his back and slammed him onto the ground, knocking the breath from him.

“Stake!” Buffy shouted, hoping Riley would toss Mr. Pointy back her way. “Stake! Please?!”

Riley sat up and looked around in a bit of a daze.

Buffy sighed and jumped up to a nearby tree branch, snapped it mid-air, and landed back on her feet. She knelt and swiped her leg low on the ground, tripping the vamp so that he fell forward to his stomach. Swiftly, she hopped up and stabbed him through the back, into his heart.

“Wow,” Riley said from the ground, panting as he watched the dusty disintegration process.

“Well, aren’t you ever the backstabber,” a deep voice greeted.

“Buffy, behind you!” Riley shouted, choosing now to throw her her stake.

Buffy caught it reflexively and held it up in warning but without urgency. “You better not try something, Spikey.”

Spike grinned, eyes popping with excitement, his hands in his coat pockets. “That would be bold o’ me— you having such intimidating backup and all.” He widened his eyes for dramatic effect, then turned his attention to Riley on the ground. “Need a hand, mate? Buffy’s pretty strong.”

“I know you,” Riley said, surprising Buffy— and Spike, too, judging by his expression. “You’re Hostile 17. You’re the escaped experiment.”

Buffy glanced dubiously at Spike and then reached for Riley, holding her hand out expectantly. He tore his squinty eyes from Spike and took her hand, letting her pull him up.

“He’s not, um, actually hostile . He’s… um… well, he’s… just Spike,” Buffy explained. Sort of. “Hostile in words mostly. Harmless as a kitty cat.”

“Bite your tongue, slayer.”

“Yeah, he’s harmless ‘cause we chipped him,” Riley informed her.

“ We ?” Spike repeated, tapping out a cigarette, eyes fixed with fresh interest on Riley.

Riley turned to Buffy. “Do you know this Hostile?”

Buffy glanced nervously from one male face to the other. Both expectant. One much more evil-looking and amused. “I… well… depends what you mean by ‘knowing’ I guess…”

“I reckon he means in the biblical sense o’ the word, love.”

“I reckon he does not,” Buffy snapped back.

Spike grinned and did that irritating tongue biting thing. 

“What are you even doing here?” she asked, folding her arms, annoyed. “This isn’t your cemetery! You should be in your crypt, nursing a blood bag or something.”

“Um, Buffy?” Riley said, but she could barely hear him when her blood was pumping like it did whenever Spike showed up and enraged her with his smirky face and stupid comments.

“Go away, Spike.”

Spike smiled at her as he lit the cigarette dangling from his lips, his whole face glowing softly from the zippo between his hands. “Think your little boyfriend wants to say something to you.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Shut up.” She turned her attention to Riley. “I’m sorry. About him. We should go.” She added perkily, “We can hit up the Bronze or—”

“Buffy,” Riley said in a low tone, dragging her further away from Spike. He cast an anxious glance back at him and then returned his eyes to Buffy. “I can’t let this H.S.T. out of my sight. I’m under direct orders. We’ve been looking for this thing for weeks. Professor Walsh needs it returned to her.”

She felt a pinch inside of her somewhere. Her head tilted slowly as she stared at him and the innocent look on his face. “It?”

Riley raised his eyebrows, not understanding at all. 

They both looked at Spike, who offered them a coy little wave.

“He can hear us, you know,” Buffy uttered. “Vampires have crazy good hearing.”

“That they do, love,” Spike chimed in, blowing some smoke into the night air. “Who’s this Walsh bitch?”

In a shocking display of sudden aggression, Riley lunged forward, but Buffy caught his arm. “Whoa. What the hell, Riley?”

“I—” He shook his head, clearing it. Then he looked at her. “Can you help me?”

Buffy’s eyes went wide. She glanced at Spike, who was smoking innocently— well as innocently as Spike could do anything— and watching them like they were prime Saturday night entertainment. “What do you mean?”

“You know,” Riley whispered, tilting his head in Spike's direction. “ Help me.”

Oh. Help him capture Spike. For the commando crew. Oh… 

“Oh. Um. Huh. Interesting. Mmm… Well…”

“We can’t let it get away,” Riley whispered faintly.

It.

Spike began to chuckle. “Listen, kiddies, as fun as this back ‘n forth is, I really was just passing through. I ought to be on with my evening, ‘n I’m sure you two lovebirds have some sweet sweet shagging to get to.” He shot Buffy a heated look that made her skin tingle. “I’ll just bugger off.”

“Stop,” Riley said. “Don’t move another inch, Hostile.” She had to admit that all the authority in his voice was kind of surprisingly sexy. She’d never heard Riley sound like that before.

Suppressing a smile, Spike took another drag. “Or else what, cub scout?” Damn. His cavalier arrogance was kind of sexy, too. Buffy was starting to think she had some sort of chemical imbalance or something. 

Riley scoffed. “You clearly have no idea who this girl is. If you did, you sure wouldn’t be acting like this.”

Spike stepped closer toward them, completely defying the ‘not another inch’ threat. “‘M I meant to be cowering behind a tombstone then? Hiding all my squishy parts from the mean, nasty slayer?”

“So you do know,” Riley said. “And you taunt her anyway?”

“Taunting is a strong word,” Buffy interrupted with a dismissing wave of her hand. “Spike doesn’t taunt me. He— he bugs me. Sometimes. Like a fly. A fly I could squish— obviously— but I, um, I choose not to. Because there are other bugs out there who I need to squish. Dangerous, poisonous bugs who bite people. And Spike? He’s just a harmless little fly. So… I let him buzz around. Flying. And buzzing.”

“Thanks ever so, slayer— both for the flattering comparison and the lack of squishing.”

“Hey, just don’t puke on my food,” she said, putting her hands up. “Riley, let’s go. We should go.”

“Buffy.” He was looking at her with something like betrayal on his face. “I can’t defy orders. This is serious. Don’t you understand?”

“Nope. Not really,” she replied nervously, tapping the side of her stake with her empty hand. This situation felt like it was getting out of control. Buffy met Spike’s eyes. “Just leave, Spike. Please.”

He looked back at her with interest and maybe a bit of pride (arrogance?) before he turned his back to them, leather coat flicking with a dramatic flourish behind him. God, he was like a comic book character, just walking around in broad— moonlight.

“I can’t believe this,” Riley grumbled, snatching the stake out of Buffy’s grip before she could react. 

“Wha—”

Then Riley ran, and he lunged at Spike, who clearly heard him coming. He spun around and socked Riley in the eye before the stake could land. Then he roared with pain, clutching his head as he yelled.

Riley took the opportunity to tackle him, but that was as far as the fight progressed before Buffy was pulling them apart and throwing them in opposite directions.

“Ow,” Riley uttered, flat on his back. 

“Bloody hell.”

“Get out of here, Spike!” Buffy shouted, hands on her hips. “I mean it!”

Spike took one look at her and then slowly stood up, brushing off his leather and fixing his hair. “Yeah, all right. You have fun with Soldier Boy. He seems like a real stand up chap.”

“ Go .”

“You owe me a fag!” he hollered over his shoulder without looking back.

Buffy watched him go, unsure how she felt about his survival and, well, his general existence. Her stomach was full of butterflies as she sighed and walked toward Riley, helping him up off the ground. Again. 

He was going to have a black eye. It was already puffy.

“I’m sorry I threw you,” Buffy offered weakly.

Riley shrugged. “Why’d you let that Hostile go, Buffy? It was teasing you. It was… an ass .”

She thought about it for a moment, her shoulders slumping. “Because he’s not an ‘it.’”

“What?”

Buffy sighed and gently touched the swollen skin beside Riley’s eye. “Come on. Let’s get some ice on this.”

*****

The walk to Riley’s frat house was… tense.

“Wow. A whole house. Off campus living. Very luxurious,” Buffy commented as they stepped onto the creaking porch.

“Yeah,” Riley said, attempting a smile, clearly happy to skirt past the awkward discomfort. “The kind of luxury that includes twelve other guys and all their stinking laundry.”

“Yikes.”

“Most of them are usually out on Saturday nights, so…”

Buffy gave him a trusting smile as Riley opened the door and led her down the hallway to the old-fashioned kitchen in the back of the house. He opened the freezer and began filling a plastic bag with ice.

“Ah. I miss having a kitchen,” Buffy said idly. “Not that I really used one very much, but I appreciated when my mom would use it on my behalf.”

Riley smirked. “I miss my mom. She was amazing in the kitchen— made great lasagna. I really miss that lasa—”

“Uh oh, Finn. Got a boo boo?” 

Buffy looked up as another guy entered the room. He looked Buffy up and down and smiled appreciatively, or perhaps creepily. “Peculiar.”

“Huh?” she responded.

“It’s just the word that comes to mind.”

“You know some people start with ‘hello.’”

Riley cleared his throat. “Buffy, this is Graham. He was just leaving.”

“I’m thirsty,” Graham said, opening the fridge, smiling too wide.

“Right. In that case, we were just leaving,” Riley said.

Buffy frowned at Graham as Riley put a hand on her lower back and whisked her out of the room and up the stairs.

“What was his deal?” she asked.

Riley ushered her into one of the bedrooms and closed the door behind them. “It’s hard to explain. Most guys are idiots, Buffy. Not sure if you knew that or not.”

“I’ve picked up on it more than once,” Buffy agreed. With a smile she looked around. “So, this is your room. A big fan of… balls?” 

Riley laughed, sitting down on the edge of his bed. “Not a lot of posters in the bookstore that weren’t bands I’d never heard of or movies I’d never seen.”

“Not a movie guy, huh?”

“Well, if the mood strikes. With the right company, movies aren’t so bad.”

Right. This was a date. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. With a gentle smile, she took the bag of ice from Riley’s hand and sat down beside him. She tentatively held the cold bag to his eye for him. He looked at her warmly, but then she saw a cooling thought flicker through him.

“Buffy,” he uttered softly. “Tell me what you know about… Hostile 17.”

Buffy sighed and touched Riley’s cheek. “Do we have to talk about him?”

“I don’t think I can think of anything else. When I get a mission, it’s sort of all I can think about until it’s complete. I had thought this one was a dead end, but now…”

“Well…” She gently moved the ice down along the wound, making Riley flinch. “Sorry.”

“I’m fine.”

“What do you wanna know exactly?”

“Anything. Anything that can help us apprehend—”

“And what? Do more experiments on him? You already neutered him. What more could you possibly want?”

Riley looked at her strangely. “That’s not for me to decide.”

Buffy’s brow furrowed. “His name is Spike.”

“Right. And Spike gets not slain because…?”

“Because of what your people did to him! He doesn’t hurt anyone anymore. So I can’t— I won’t kill a harmless creature, no matter how unbelievably annoying he is. And I won’t help you hunt him down either. It’s messed up, Riley. Don’t you see that?”

Riley shrugged one shoulder. “I, uh, never really thought about it that way. Never really thought about it at all. I’m not supposed to.”

“Well, how about you give thinking a try some time?! You don’t have to be one of the idiot guys, you know. You could be different. You could be better. You’re smart and sweet and compassionate and… you could just be better.”

Riley was smiling at her. “Do you always say exactly what’s on your mind?”

“Don’t you?”

“I really want to kiss you right now.”

Surprised, she lowered the ice pack.

“How’s that for sharing what’s on my mind?” he asked her with a grin.

“A very good start.”

Notes:

I think he kisses her next. Maybe. I don't know. That's just my guess.

Chapter 20

Well I went on a date last night. With my boyfriend. He’s my boyfriend now. I’m pretty sure because we had sex. Is it wrong to talk about that in a semi-public forum? I don’t know. SpellingItOut says I should use the blog to process things. And honestly, there’s been a lot to process lately. So I’m just gonna go for it. 

We had sex.

And it was nice. Good. It was… 

Okay, here’s the thing. I have had some great sex. I am talking fireworks in the eyes, never-seen-that-color-before kinda sex. And I’m a little scared that this… explosiveness has completely ruined me! Sex with my new, gorgeous and wonderful boyfriend was less fireworks and more… um… campfire? Toasty! Like, comforting when you’re cold and alone in the woods, but not something you’d endure a mess of traffic to experience. If that makes any sense.

But you know what? Life is bigger than sex. And it was the first time. First times can be awkward. Everyone says that. We’ll get better. The more we know each other. The deeper our connection, I’m sure it’ll just get better and better…

Buffy hit the “post” button and sighed. There was a very particular first time she wished she could forget.

“You only get a first night once,” he’d said.

The memory made her cringe. She hated him. She hated Spike like she had never hated anybody before! How dare he do all those things to her?!

Buffy thought back to the previous night. She and Riley, ceremoniously removing each other’s clothes. Lots of eye contact. Lots of compliments. He’d told her she was beautiful— a lot. He’d kissed her a lot, too. And the sex had been slow, gentle, loving. If she was honest, it was everything she’d always imagined from her boyfriend. 

But, like a record scratch, her mind shifted back to Spike and his reckless, relentless fucking. It was fucking with him. Sure, it felt amazing, but who wanted to get fucked all the time?! Not her. She was the slayer! Wasn’t it better to be loved, cherished, prized? That’s how Riley made her feel. Like a prize. A pretty, coveted, shiny prize.

Buffy picked up her psychology textbook, opening it with a sigh. She was really behind on her homework, and she really needed to stop comparing Riley to Spike. It was ridiculous. Spike was an evil idiot with an over-the-top, supernatural libido. Riley, on the other hand, was her boyfriend. 

Case closed. 

*****

Riley called her twice that day.

It made her feel good, lying in bed, twirling the twirly phone cord while he watched a football game on his end and she stared at the ceiling smiling on her end. They said nothing of consequence, but that was kinda the point. Buffy’s life tended to feel like Consequence lurked around every corner, every decision leading to possible devastation.

So she really didn’t mind hearing about the Iowa Hawkeyes and the unfair calls from the referee.

Willow was doing homework on her bed on the other side of the room. When their eyes would meet, Willow would smile supportively and then return to her books.

It was nice.

Then there was a harsh knock on their door.

Willow popped up to answer it, letting Xander and a big box of pizza into the room.

“Riley, I gotta go,” Buffy said. “Nope, nothing evil. Just my friend, Xander, and he has food. Call you later.” She giggled, then hung up the phone.

Buffy joined her friends on the rug where they were already sitting criss-cross, opening the box of pizza up like stolen treasure. 

“‘Just my friend, Xander,’” Xander mocked.

Buffy looked sideways at him. “Well, yeah, as opposed to an evil demon here to suck out my brains or whatever.”

“Was that your new boyfriend?”

“Riley. Yes.”

“And he already knows about brain-sucking demon possibilities? Seems a little premature.”

“He’s in the Initiative, Xander,” Willow explained. “He already knows all about the weirdness that is Sunnydale.”

“The Initiative? You’re dating one of those vigilante assassin guys?”

“They are not vigilantes. They are more like… soldiers. I think it’s governmentish.”

“Great. Unknown government soldiers. Even better. You know, I’m not sure I like Riley,” Xander said, picking up a slice of pepperoni pizza.

Buffy scoffed. “You don’t even know Riley.”

“Yeah,” Willow agreed with supportive indignation. “We like Riley. You should like Riley. Riley is cool.”

“I hear the sex sucks,” Xander said. 

Buffy’s brows went up. “Whoa. What?”

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m your friend and I read your blog. What’s this fireworks sex you’re talking about?”

“Uh…” Buffy’s eyes widened and she glanced at Willow in horrified panic. “Um… I…”

Xander mused, “It couldn’t be Angel. Never in the history of virgin sex has virgin sex ever been described as firework-y. Was that douchebag from the party really that amazing? Peter? Was that his name? He seemed—”

“Maybe it’s none of your business!” Willow jumped in, immediately regretting it. “I mean— I just— I think Buffy deserves some privacy in regard to her, um, her… sex stuff.”

He dropped his slice of pizza onto the open lid of the cardboard box. “I’m not trying to pry. It was put out there for the whole world to read! And as your best, Xander-shaped pal I was just discussing the thing that you… discussed.”

Buffy suddenly found her slice of pizza extremely interesting. “It really just… doesn’t matter. Sex is such a small thing really.”

“Well—” Xander stopped short when Willow kicked his shin. Sarcastically, he said, “Yeah, of course, it is! Practically meaningless!”

“Xander,” Willow quietly chastised.

Frowning, Buffy said, “Did you know Riley used to be the quarterback for his high school football team?”

*****

Buffy happily coasted along in the comforting land of Normality for three whole days before she finally decided she had to pick up her stake and cruise the cemetery— sans boyfriend this time.

She had dusted three lame-o vampires when a more familiar lame-o vampire appeared.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, eyes rolling preemptively. 

“I live here.”

“I mean next to me. What are you doing here next to me?”

Spike shook his head and clucked his tongue. “You really are a bitch. Can’t a bloke pop by ‘n say ‘howdy’ to his wife?”

Buffy turned sharply and glared at him. “Do you get some sort of sick satisfaction out of using that word?”

“What, ‘howdy?’”

Her glare intensified. “You know what word.”

He smirked. “Reckon I do.”

“Well, stop. Because it is stupid. I am not your wife. I was never your wife, and I’m tired of explaining this to you.” She continued tauntingly, “Maybe you have some sort of deep, repressed Victorian fantasy you’re trying to fulfill in which you actually get a girl.”

Spike’s eyes flashed with… something. Then his brow furrowed. “What’s that bloody supposed to mean?”

She had no idea. She was just hurling insults. But she simply shouted, “Figure it out!”

His strong hands clapped down and gripped her tight by the shoulders. “No. Tell me… What’s that supposed to mean, slayer? You doin’ research on me? Why were you lookin’ into me, huh? How’d you even—”

Looking into his panicked face, she realized suddenly with a laugh, “Oh my God. You are, like, totally wigging right now.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“I’m—” He released her with a growl, turning away from her. “Fuck you.”

Buffy rolled her eyes again. “Good one.” She shook her head. “Okay, well, I’ve got things to do.” She began to walk— authoritatively. “None of which involve you.”

Spike reappeared beside her. “Yeah? Like that boy toy o’ yours? You doin’ him lately? Haven’t seen you patrolling in days…”

“He’s not a toy. He’s my boyfriend. You on the other hand,” Buffy glanced sideways at him and mocked, “Well, you were never my boyfriend, so draw your own conclusions.”

“Right. I believe you used the word ‘hubby’ at one point, though.”

“You’re obsessed. And it’s sad. I’m sad for you.” She laughed shortly. “Wait. No, I’m not.” She turned and marched onward, away from the nosy, not-her-husband vampire.

Spike let out a heavy, dramatic sigh and then shouted after her, “Why’d you save me?”

Buffy stopped walking, staring straight ahead and not back at him.

“From your boyfriend,” Spike clarified, spitting the word out like acid. “He would’ve staked me— eventually. Me bein’ unable to fight back ‘n all. It would’ve solved a whole lot o’ pesky moral dilemmas for you if he had, keepin’ your pretty hands clean all the while.” 

She turned around. He was still a few rows of graves away. She watched him shove his hands in his pockets and shrug.

“So why’d you stop him?” he asked, looking genuinely curious.

“You know why,” Buffy said calmly. “I made a very good ‘fly’ metaphor that explained it all perfectly.”

Spike walked toward her, head shaking. “You explained why you haven’t killed me. Not killing, though— well, it’s a bit different from protecting, don’t you think?”

“I am not protecting you, Spike.”

That’s when a vampire charged toward them with a barbaric growl. Buffy turned and punched him in the nose, staking him quickly. 

She looked sharply at Spike and raised one finger. “That didn’t count!”

He snorted in response. But she didn’t have time to be mad about it as a whole swarm of demons burst out of the nearby woods.

Buffy looked at them, face falling. “Aw, crap.”

“Good luck with that,” Spike murmured, taking a few steps back.

She glanced at him, irritated, before focusing on the task at hand— which currently happened to be a herd of many different demons.

Buffy launched into the fray, hearing the words “the slayer!” and “kill her!” being growled and/or shouted. 

“She’s gotta be a part of it,” one grumbled after being punched in the stomach.

“Part of what?” she asked as she kicked another into a tree.

“You humans are the evil ones!”

“That seems a little dramat—” 

While dealing with one antlered demon, another bigger, more slimy demon guy grabbed her throat from behind. Buffy elbowed the throat clutcher to no avail as he lifted her off the ground, her legs kicking wildly as she sputtered helplessly and reached for the fingers tightening around her neck.

She heard a roar then, and she fell hard to the ground, gasping for air. Taking only a few seconds to recalibrate, Buffy staggered to her feet, coughing, and noticed a strange thing.

Spike was fighting. Spike was fighting demons. And he was laughing.

Most of them turned and ran when they noticed Buffy had returned to her feet and picked up her stake again. But Spike was whaling on the last one, shouting at it through the bared fangs of his game face, “So much for helpless Spike! I’m back! And I’m a bloody animal!” 

Buffy watched him, stunned… confused, stunned. Mostly stunned.

“That one’s a vampire,” she said distractedly. “You have to… you know.”

“What? Stake him?!” Spike cackled. “Well aware of the protocol, love!”

The vamp looked up at Spike. “What are you doing?! Why aren’t you killing her?!”

“It’s complicated, mate, but she’s sorta my wife.” 

“Your w—?”

But Spike twisted his head clean off, watching the dust fill his palms with a dark grin and then blowing it all into the night.

Buffy stood immobile, not sure how to process everything that had just happened in the past four minutes. 

Spike could hurt demons. Spike was hurting demons. Spike had saved her.

She looked at him, beaming at her with his menacing teeth and demonic eyes. He looked so proud. And he looked dangerous, more dangerous than she’d ever seen Spike look. 

He strutted toward her, chest puffing out and in. 

“Now that was fun,” Spike said, unable to stifle his pleased smile. His hands began rubbing together like a cartoon villain.

Buffy still didn’t know what to say. And a horrifying part of her found all this violence heating her up from the core.

“How’s about we track down the rest of ‘em? Can’t let those nasties roam free.”

“We can’t?”

He looked at her, surprised. “Well they did try to kill you.” 

Buffy nodded. “Uh huh.”

“God, I feel so alive!” Spike said, looking around and breathing in deep like he had a new lease on his unlife.

She didn’t think he even heard her as she murmured, “Well, you’re not.”

“I’ve been pathetic, you know. Right pathetic. Twitchy. And this is it— this is the cure!”

“Killing things?”

“Yeah!” He turned those yellow eyes onto her. “You gonna pretend you don’t enjoy the rush? I feel bloody fantastic. Christ, this explains everything. Like why I’ve been so damn eager to shag the sodding slayer of all people.”

“Excuse me?”

Spike ducked his head a little lower. “Innit obvious? I was lookin’ for a fight. But a fuck’s nearly as good.”

“Oh. Well, sure.”

“And a fuck with the slayer of all people? The ultimate predator? All that danger heightening every touch.”

Buffy averted her eyes, embarrassed, and not at all turned on. “I’m not—” She sighed. “I’m, uh, just really stoked you’ve found yourself such a productive outlet.”

“You should be.” He pointed an accusatory finger at her. “You should be doin’ bloody cartwheels. Me killing demons is gonna lighten your load up considerably.”

“So you’re just… totally of the good now? Is that why you saved me?”

Spike scoffed, his face shifting back to his human one, which put Buffy more at ease than it should have. “I’m not good, and I didn’t save you.”

“Oh, really? ‘Cause it looked to me like—”

“I needed a spot o’ violence. Simple as that.”

“Okay. Sure. So you saved me because you needed violence, and you slept with me because you… needed violence.” She waved between them. “This is all just… violence.”

Spike considered that. “Well the sex happened to be brilliant, too. No denying that.”

Buffy said nothing, just lifted her chin and raised her eyebrows.

“Look,” he said, his eyes narrow and stern, and his face a little too close to hers. “You saved me. I saved you. We’re square now. Let’s just forget it.”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “We’re square.”

Spike’s head tilted, his eyes scanning all over her face. He leaned in a little closer. She could practically feel him touching her even though he wasn’t. He was not touching her.

“What?” Buffy asked, feeling self-conscious beneath his intense stareage.

He shook his head and stroked some hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear. Touching. “Just… remembering.”

Her heart was thundering inside of her. She knew he must hear it. She knew he must know how his nearness was affecting her. It wasn’t fair that he knew. And what exactly was he remembering?

“Get out of my face,” she uttered gently.

He responded just as lightly, “Gladly.”

Then he crossed those last few inches between them and kissed her lips with such shocking tenderness, such unbelievably intoxicating what-the-hell-is-this? tenderness. Buffy returned the kiss, slipping the lightest of tongue into his mouth and feeling him respond enthusiastically, like he was thirsty for her. God, it was good. It was sweet, but hinting of more. Promising more.

And it was proving that what he’d said and what she’d said was all a bunch of bullshit. Maybe it always had been. God help her.

Buffy jerked back, startled by herself and this wild spell he’d somehow cast over her. How did he do this? How had she fallen for it again— even for just a second?! What the hell was wrong with her? And him?!

She opened her mouth, prepared to yell all these questions at him.

Then he touched a finger to her lips and smiled. “I have to go.”

Buffy batted his finger away and stared at him incredulously, brow furrowed.

“I’ll see you later, slayer,” Spike said, grinning wide.

Then she watched as he walked away, coat billowing, hair glowing beneath the moon. All her dignity and pride tucked deep inside his back pocket.

Covering her face with her hands, Buffy let out a hopeless whimper.

Chapter 21

Shockingly, Buffy couldn’t sleep that night.

How could she or any sane person possibly sleep after that kiss? That freakishly gentle kiss that was the opposite of every other burning magma-hot kiss she’d ever shared with Spike. That marshmallowy sweet and squishy kiss wrapped in whispers that temporarily tricked her into feeling feelings she shouldn’t be feeling. That incredibly confusing who-even-am-I-and-how-did-I-get-here? kiss with so-very-not-her-boyfriend!

What did it all mean?

What did it mean that he’d done it? And what did it mean that she’d let him? Joined him? Willingly participated? Leaped into the accomplice role of said catastrophic kissing crime?

The shame was nearly unbearable.

Buffy rolled out of her twin-sized dorm-issued bed and quietly snagged her laptop. She glanced across the room at Willow, sleeping soundly, then she tucked back into her bed and opened the computer.

I think something’s wrong with me.

Something is definitely wrong with me.

 

She posted it, despite it not seeming very blog-like or at all intelligible. With a heavy sigh, she closed the lid to her laptop. 

Then she opened it again.

 

I did a bad thing, and it felt… good. Now I don’t know what to do because I’ve always thought I was good. I AM good. HE is bad. And a mistake. And dangerous.

And I know all these things but whenever he’s around I get sucked into his orbit like some sort of space slut! 

And I HATE him. I don’t understand how he can have this effect on me when I HATE HATE HATE him. 

I need to be good, do the right thing, not hurt people…. especially my boyfriend who would never hurt me. I just want to be good and normal and… happy! Is that too much to ask?

As usual, this stupid guy is messing absolutely everything up.

 

There! How was that for processing? 

Buffy moved her laptop to her nightstand and rolled over in her bed. She lay there, eyes squeezed shut, slaying every memory that attempted to cross her mind. Well, wishing she could slay them at least.

Grabbing her laptop again she made one last post.

Why did I kiss him back?

 

*****

Riley came over with egg rolls and lo mien the next night. He was the best boyfriend that way. He’d even stopped at the vending machine just to get Buffy a Diet Coke.

Damn him.

It made her feel all the more horrible when Riley was being an A+ boyfriend, knowing what a D- girlfriend she’d been in the past twenty four hours. 

But it was fine. She could change that.

Swallowing her last bite of eggroll, Buffy asked Riley, “Hey, if you could go anywhere — money is not an object— where would you go?”

“Hm.” Riley considered this seriously as he gathered up the trash and put it all back into the takeout bag. Very responsibly. “I think if I had all the time and money in the world, I’d just get in my car and go.” 

“Go… where?”

“Anywhere.”

“Yeah, but… toward… where?”

“That part wouldn’t matter. Road trips are a blast,” he said so innocently.

“Happy to take the wheel, pet.”

“You’re evil and— and evil. I’m not giving you heavy machinery.”

“Suit yourself… bitch.”

Buffy scoffed and stood up to brush her hair and judge her secret-keeping self in the mirror. “Not always in my experience.”

“Hey. Some of the guys were talking about driving up to Vegas one weekend. If Professor Walsh ever lets enough of us off duty at once anyway. You could come, too. It would be—”

“No!” She pointed the hairbrush at him dramatically, but then realized how insane she looked and put it back on the dresser. “I— I don’t go there. To Vegas. I don’t— um, I don’t do that.”

Riley raised his eyebrows and smiled dubiously. “Because… you’re very against gambling?”

“Um… yeah. I hear it’s, like, a gateway thing? You start off wearing a pretty dress and innocently gambling a few coins, you pull the little slot thingy, and what do you know? You wake up the next day and your life is completely ruined!”

“You never struck me as the conservative type.”

“Well I guess I am,” Buffy said, nose in the air. “Hey, you wanna make out?”

Riley laughed as he stood up. “You didn’t answer your own question. Where would you go?”

Buffy stared at him surprised for a minute. “Oh. Well. It’s so cliche.”

“Tell me,” he said, coming closer and placing his hands on her hips.

“I guess I’ve always wanted to explore Europe. To roam Rome and peruse Paris. Drink wine and eat good cheese.”

“That sounds nice.”

“Yeah. And one day when the Slayer 401k kicks in, I guess maybe I’ll have a chance to go.”

Riley squinted. “You have a 401k?” 

Laughing, Buffy shook her head. “Nope. Which is kinda the point. Retirement is not in my future. Only the Hellmouth is.”

“But when do you get to… stop?”

“Um, when I die?” 

Riley stared at her, not saying a word. It started to feel very uncomfortable very quickly.

Cheerily she added, “Good thing I kick major ass, right?”

“Yeah, good thing,” he murmured. Then he put a hand on her cheek. “Buffy…”

“What’s wrong, Riley?”

“I just… I guess I never thought about…”

Buffy lifted her eyes to his, waiting.

Riley finished, “It’s no small thing. What you do. Buffy, you’re amazing.”

She couldn’t help smiling and feeling a little overwhelmed by his words. “Can we do the kissing thing now?”

“You’ll get no argument here.”

*****

The kissing was still happening when Willow burst in, rambling animatedly about a fire-breathing demon.

Buffy and Riley scrambled out of their horizontal state and snatched up weapons to follow Willow to the dorm’s recreation room.

“Surprise!” everyone yelled as they entered.

It took a minute to process. But eventually Buffy’s eyes landed on the “Happy Birthday!” banner, and she surreptitiously dropped her stake behind her back and kicked it under a card table.

“Wow,” she said. “This is just… wow.”

“Figured you could use a little fun,” Willow said cheerily.

Xander was by her side. “Yeah, especially after the series of highly disturbing blog posts you shared last night.”

“Blog posts?” Riley asked. 

Buffy’s eyes bugged in Xander’s direction. “Yeah, blog posts?”

Xander stared back at her, squinting, “I meant, um, bog ghosts ?”

“Wait. What are bog ghosts?” said Riley.

Laughing nervously and avoiding Buffy’s glare, Xander said, “What a silly question! Ghosts that haunt bogs of course. Anyway, who likes cake?”

“Ooh, me!” Buffy said, snagging Riley’s hand as Xander scurried off to Anya’s side. “Come on, Riley. Let us partake in some cake.” 

At the cake table, they ran into Giles. Buffy hadn’t thought about Giles in a while, what with the very bad thoughts that had been swirling around in her brain ever since returning from Las Vegas. Giles and the Vegasy thoughts were incredibly non-mixy.

“Happy birthday, Buffy,” he greeted.

“Thanks. It’s good to see you. I’m… glad you’re here. It feels like forever since I’ve—” She smiled and shook her head, feeling self-conscious suddenly. “We just haven’t talked in a while.”

“No,” Giles said, a little longingly. “Not since you returned from… your trip.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, stomach turning with anxiety. Could Giles tell she’d gone back to Spike for more earth-shattering sex? Did he know that’s why she hadn’t been around as much lately? Could he tell that they’d kissed last night? If anyone could see that in her, it would probably be Giles. Smashing all those thoughts down, she said, “Um. So. This is Riley, my boyfriend.”

Riley beamed and held his hand out. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Giles.”

Giles’ gaze turned scrupulous as he took Riley’s hand and shook it. “Boyfriend. Buffy’s boyfriend. Riley.”

“Riley Finn, sir.”

Giles made a small grunt of acknowledgement and then returned to his cake. 

Riley’s smile faded a bit, but he turned to Buffy and asked her if she wanted a drink. She thanked him and watched as he wandered away.

Buffy glanced at Giles. “He’s a little nervous. He knows you’re important to me. He’s a really good guy. You’re gonna really like him.”

“I’m sure. He’s, um… oh, how do I say this?”

She raised her eyebrows.

“Not a..” Giles sighed. “Is Riley supernatural in any way?”

Surprised, Buffy replied, “No. Not at all! He’s not— no. Wh-why do you ask?”

Giles smiled reassuringly. “I’m only gathering as clear a picture as I can. I didn’t think vampires in particular were actually your taste, but it seemed prudent— as your watcher, of course— to, um, check.”

She cleared her throat and smiled with what she hoped wasn’t a mountain of guilt.

“Speaking of vampires,” Giles said, “Is Spike keeping to himself lately? He hasn’t been back to my flat, and I admit it makes me rather nervous— not knowing what he’s up to.”

“Oh, I’ve… I’ve seen…” Her heart dropped as her eyes caught Spike’s eyes in the window over Giles’ shoulder. “Him…”

Spike was here. Spike was outside. What the hell was Spike doing outside and here ?!

“Really?” Giles prodded.

Buffy tore her gaze from Spike’s amused grin. “Yeah. He, um, he found a crypt to live in. Oh, and he’s been fighting demons.”

“The chip isn’t activated by demons then? Interesting.”

Spike was gesturing toward the door, trying to coax her outside.

“Looks like not,” Buffy said slowly.

“Is everything all right?” Giles looked behind him in the direction of Buffy’s staring. Spike dipped down out of sight just in time.

“Yes! Of course! I just— I need cake. And I could… maybe use some fresh air. Surprises, they’re, um, not actually my thing.”

“I did try to tell them that.”

Buffy smiled at him. “No one knows me like you do.”

She grabbed a plate of cake and took a few steps toward the exit, but then Riley was back, fruit punch in hand. He greeted her with, “Whatever this is, it’s pink.”

“Thanks,” Buffy said, taking the drink from him with a smile. She gave it a sip. “Yep. Tastes… pink.” 

When she looked at Spike again, he looked less giddy at his own audacity than before. Now he seemed annoyed, like she was holding up his big evening plans with all this dillydallying.

Hmph. Well. She could dilly and dally with the best of them. Screw him.

Buffy set down her terrible fruit punch and took Riley by the arm. “Come on. Let’s introduce you to some of my dorm pals!”

*****

Hours later, Buffy’s birthday party had dwindled down so that only Xander, Willow, and a new friend of Willow’s named Tara were left playing foosball.

Anya had been unenthused about the lengthy foosball championship and had told Xander to meet her back at ‘home’ when he was ready to have sex. Buffy had been kind of shocked that Xander hadn’t followed her immediately. They must have a lot of sex.

Riley had surrendered his foosball standing and left an hour ago, saying that he had an early training session in the morning. He was the height of responsibility.

Buffy, on the other hand, had to admit that she’d considered wandering outside to see if Spike was still there. She’d considered that, but then she’d chosen to enjoy some more foosball instead— with her back to the window he’d been lurking in.

She didn’t want to see him. But also she really did. It was such a mess in her head. She was mad at Spike for having made that mess. And, to be perfectly honest, she was scared. Not of him, of course. He was just… a fly. What she was scared of was what she might do.

Foosball was much safer.

“Well, I’m pretty tired. I think I’m gonna go back to my dorm and sleep,” Tara said.

“Okay. Night, Tara,” Buffy said. “It was great to meet you.”

“Yeah. You, too. Happy birthday.” Tara gave her a warm smile and then glanced at Willow questioningly. 

Willow’s eyes widened. “Ooh! Um. I’ll walk you! It’s late, and you shouldn’t walk back by yourself. We can walk together. And… yeah.”

Xander stretched his arms out and yawned. “I’ll go, too. Be the big strong man, you know, for once.”

“No!” Willow exclaimed hastily. Then she glanced around regretfully. “I— I mean, we got it. We’re fine. Right, Tara?”

Tara smiled. “Definitely.” She waved at Buffy and Xander. “Night.”

“Night,” they responded dutifully.

Xander folded his arms and scrunched his face. “Did I just get rejected? Doubly and platonically?”

Buffy put her arm through his. “Yeah, I think kind of. But you can totally walk me back to my room!”

Xander sighed and pushed open the door to the empty hallway and they walked slowly back to Buffy and Willow’s room. “Much as I appreciate the bone throwage, Buff, there’s something a bit redundant about walking you home.”

“It’s still nice,” she reassured him. “The company.”

Xander smiled to himself. “So what’s with your blogging spiral lately? Sorry I mentioned it in front of Riley.”

“It’s okay. As long as he doesn’t know my blog name, it should be fine right?”

“Right. So… you’re, uh, kissing someone else?”

Buffy bit her bottom lip. “Um… yeah… kind of...” Amongst other things.

“Someone bad?”

“Mhmm…” Evil. Pure evil. Satanic, she was going to hell for touching him at all kind of evil.

“Well, you know you can talk to me. If you want. If you need someone to talk to. That’s what I’m here for.”

Buffy looked up into Xander’s warm face. And she really wanted to. She wanted to talk to him, but it was also just so hard. She'd have to start at the beginning. There was so much he didn't know, and so much that Buffy didn't even want to think about. Willow had been right. Somehow, typing her thoughts out had been a lot easier than it was to say them out loud.

Xander continued, “Because I know I don’t bring a whole lot to the scooby table. I can’t back you up in a fight. I can’t figure out what the horns or the wacky green slime on the latest demon mean. I can’t whip up a spell—”

“Not all spells lead to good, you know.”

“ —I’m just the guy with the donuts and very few prospects. But I can listen. If you ever needed anyone to… just listen.”

“Xander,” Buffy said softly. “Thank you.”

“I miss you guys. Everything’s so different now. College .”

“Yeah, college ,” she agreed with an awkward laugh. “So much has happened so quickly.”

“And look, however bad this guy is… what could be as apocalyptic as Angel, right? After what you went through with him, what can’t you handle?”

Buffy sighed as they reached her door. “Your logic is logical. Somehow… it all still feels apocalyptic when you’re in it, surrounded by all the scary fire.”

“Well, fire aside, Riley seems like a really great guy.”

“He is! He’s… the best guy. Without a doubt.” She folded her arms and listened to herself, sounding so certain despite the voice inside her that was actually full of doubts.

"Good." Xander gave her a tight smile. “Well, happy birthday. Call me if you, you know, ever need me for… anything.” He turned and walked away.

“Xander!” she called, making him turn around. “I do need you. For lots of reasons.”

His smile grew. “Good to know. Night, Buff.”

“Night.”

Xander was right. Angel had been the apocalypse of relationships. He and she together had been disaster times disaster. With him, everything had been so intense. Thunder clapping, blizzard brewing, world-endingly awful. And also shooting star, field of lilacs, heart-stoppingly wonderful.

And lately, she’d hardly even thought of Angel.

It was a nice reminder. Because that meant one day she wouldn’t think of Spike. At all! Spike, who meant nothing to her. Angel had been the great love of her life , and still she was able to put his memory on a shelf in her mind— one of the dusty high ones in the back— and not think about him anymore. She’d just have to try harder to put Spike on that shelf, too. Maybe his own shelf. This memory would definitely be a heavy one.

Buffy opened her door and her mouth dropped open like a cartoon character's. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

It was going to be a lot harder to put him on any shelf if he kept showing up like this.

Stretched out on her bed in his black jeans and t-shirt, his hands clasped behind his head, Spike raised his brows. “Did I just hear you telling that poor sod that Riley is the best guy?”

“Get out.”

“ Riley ,” Spike said with venom as he stood up. “Riley, who didn’t even have the decency to walk his girl home.”

“Out the window would work just fine!” She grabbed his arm and attempted to drag him toward the window. “Chop chop! Time is of the essence for you to not be here!”

Spike grabbed her arms, too, locking them in a sort of rigid standstill. His voice dropped. “Riley, who didn’t have the decency to give his girl a proper birthday shag?”

That made her hitch. So she taunted him, “Why’re you so jealous, Spike?”

“‘M not jealous. I just think you’re bloody stupid if you think these are the actions of a decent boyfriend.”

“What the hell would you know about decency?”

“Not much,” he admitted with a slithery grin. “But how decent do you really wanna be treated, slayer?”

Buffy gasped as his hands seized her ass and pulled her in close against him, grinding her against the hardness beneath his denim. 

“I’d wager not very,” Spike whispered.

“You… a-are evil,” she sputtered, eyes squeezed shut, the throbbing between her legs becoming instantly, agonizingly painful. 

Oh no. Red alert. He was unzipping her jeans. That was bad. Very bad.

“Want to see how a real man treats a woman on her birthday?” he asked, a hint of play in his tone.

Buffy squeezed her eyes shut, feeling helpless as his hand dipped into her panties and began stroking her expertly. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because it’s fun.”

Chapter 22

Notes:

It's birthday time! Do you think Spike brought her a cake?!

Happy birthday, Buffy. Happy birthday, Buffy. Happy birthday, you suck and you’re going to hell and you’re a sick horny freeeeak… Happy birthday, Buffy.

“Because it’s fun,” Spike had said.

His hand was still in her jeans.

Buffy grabbed him by the biceps, eyes still shut. “Don’t. We can’t.”

“Why not?”

His hand was still in her jeans.

“B-because… Willow. She lives here. She could— and— and— I can’t!”

“Can’t?” He stroked her clit like a guy who really knew how to stroke a clit. “Buffy Summers can’t do something?”

“I—” She moaned and then, startled, opened her eyes.

His hand was still in her jeans. Resistance was futile.

“I hate you,” Buffy said softly, her hands sliding from his biceps up his arms and then around his neck. He was so hard in all the right ways.

“I’m beginning to have my doubts about that,” Spike replied with a grin. 

She snapped back, “Well don’t!” 

“Easy, kitten. Or you won’t get your birthday prezzie.” 

Spike stopped touching her and God it absolutely ached without his hand there to soothe her and her terrible desperate need. He shucked her jeans down to her knees and gave her a little push backward onto the bed. The bed where she’d been making out with Riley only a few hours before.

Happy birthday, Buffy. Happy birthday, Buffy. Happy birthday, you suck and you’re going to hell and you’re a sick horny freeeeak… Happy birthday, Buffy.

Spike whisked her jeans all the way off her legs and he ran both his hands up one of her legs. “Christ, these ‘re magnificent.”

Buffy stared at the ceiling, panting like a bitch in heat, paralyzed by the tsunami of conflict in her chest.

Then Spike ran his fingers along the fabric at the crotch of her bubblegum pink panties. “Completely soaked,” he murmured before sucking his own fingers. Damn him, it was hot. “Captain Cardboard didn’t do this to you.”

No, he most definitely had not. Captain Cardboard hadn’t done anything like this to her, and Buffy knew very well that he never would! Also, she should not be thinking of Riley as cardboard.

“Take off your shirt,” Spike said.

And suddenly Buffy was Miss Agreeable because she did. She sat up and took her shirt off and flung it to the floor, staring up at him as fiercely as she could because something about Spike and especially getting naked with Spike made her feel like she was going to war.

“Take off your shirt,” Buffy said.

The corner of his mouth twitched with amusement, but he was Mr. Agreeable now and he didn’t hesitate to remove his own shirt, so at least she wasn’t going to lose her dignity alone.

His hand went to her inner thigh, but she stopped him with a hand of her own. “Lock the door at least. Willow will be coming back. She just—”

“Shut up about Willow.” 

“ Spike —”

“What you should really be worried about,” he said darkly, leaning down and kissing her neck. “Is if your boyfriend changes his mind and decides to come back to tuck you in after all. Supposin’ he was to wander in, well then you’d have a real bloody problem on your hands.”

Buffy’s stomach flip-flopped at that terrifying thought. “Please just lock the door. It’s what locks are for .”

Spike kissed her on the lips and damn him to the most hellish hell, it was so good. He knew just how much tongue to use to make it sexy, not gross. And his hand was creeping up her thigh while they kissed and then— oh, God— he broke the kiss and looked at her as he grabbed hold of her panties and tore them apart.

“Lock—”

“No.”

He dropped to his knees before her, and his fingers dug inside her without further preamble. Buffy gasped and then noticed Spike smiling pridefully, biting his own tongue as he watched her whimper and squirm at his touch.

“That’s it, slayer. Just relax now. He can’t take care of you, but I can.”

Why was it so hot when he reminded her how wrong this all was?

Buffy made a little sound and closed her eyes because he looked too happy and it scared her. But then her eyes shot open again at the feel of his mouth on her pussy. She moaned a little because that tongue of his was so versatile . A triple-threat of kissing, saying dirty hot things, and licking her into clouds of ecstasy. 

“Mmm… You can do better ‘n that. Let it out, pet.”

She kind of wanted to. She just knew she shouldn’t. God, what if someone heard her next door? Or Willow? Or Riley ?! 

This was all so wrong that wrong didn’t seem like a strong enough word anymore.

Spike returned to his work, his fingers busy pulsing inside her as his mouth made much mouthly magic. Buffy did moan, louder this time, rocking her hips against his evil stupid sexy face.

He kissed her pussy and looked up at her, eyes full of sex. And evil. “I could eat you every day.”

Buffy turned her face to the side, breathing hard. He just looked too good and he said the right things, despite being very bad and entirely wrong in absolutely every other way.

Ugh. Her brain hurt.

“Buffy,” Spike uttered, kissing her clit again and suckling at it, making her toes curl up with sex possession.

She whimpered back.

“Buffy.” He said it again, and again it made her shiver. No one had ever said her name like that. No one except him.

“Oh, God!” she cried suddenly as her pleasure began to build. “Oh, God. I’m gonna… just don’t stop…”

“Say ‘please.’”

“Fuck,” Buffy uttered in a high squeal, seizing her own nipples through her black lace bra. “Fuck fuck fuckedy fu…”

“Christ, that’s hot,” Spike murmured. She heard his jeans unzip.

Then he put his mouth on her clit and he sucked as his fingers pressed hard inside her and his other hand held her thrashing hips still. 

It sent her over the edge and she cried out loudly as she crested, not caring anymore. She just couldn’t care anymore. That part of her brain had incinerated moments ago.

“Happy birthday, little pet,” Spike said, not allowing her orgasm to dissipate at all before he flipped her over onto her stomach and he thrust his raging hard cock into her.

Buffy shrieked, still riding the orgasmic wave he’d sent her on. “God, yes. God. Oh, God!”

He was flat on top of her, trapping her between him and the mattress as he plowed into her hard. Everything felt new and big and so overwhelmingly much as his cock slid in and out of her and her legs tightened together. 

“Fuck yeah,” he growled in her ear as he fucked her. “Love your tight cunt. Grab your tits again.”

She could barely manage it, squashed beneath him as she was, but she did. She moaned into the mattress beneath her, and that felt really good because she could be even louder knowing the noise was muffled.

But Spike didn’t like that. He grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head back so that her face wasn’t hidden. He nipped at her neck. “Gonna fuck your brains out, slayer. ‘Cause I know that’s what you want.”

She moaned back. She was really glad he didn’t seem to expect her to offer anything further than that to this stimulating conversation. All she could seem to muster were a variety of sounds and swearing.

He was so deep. Spike tightened his hold on her hair and he rammed into her particularly hard, making her grunt.

“You like your prezzie?” he uttered, breathless himself now.

“Ohhhh…” She squeezed her nipples a little harder. “ Yes… ”

Spike chuckled. And the sound of it was really good. Which she hated, of course.

He rolled them then, so that he was lying on his back and her back was to his chest. 

“Pull your bra down. Wanna see those lovely tits.”

Buffy did as he asked, staring at the ceiling. His chin was on her shoulder— as if the devil metaphor needed more pronunciation. His mouth was hot and evil in her ear. And, ever the multitasker, he kept thrusting up into her, though his pace had slowed down. 

“Pinch your nipples ‘gain.” 

She did, and it felt decadently good. Buffy whimpered, turning her head with her eyes closed toward the sound of his voice. He kissed her forehead and her cheek, and that was kind of shockingly intimate, but she let it slide because of all the yummy sin feelings in her body right now.

“Bloody hell. How I hope he walks in on you with your tits out like this, all stuffed full o’ my cock.”

Buffy mewled because it was possibly the worst scenario she could imagine, but it was undeniably true that fucking Spike had become her ultimate weakness. She’d never felt so stupid or slutty or unBuffy in all her life.

Happy birthday, Buffy. Happy birthday, Buffy. Happy birthday, you suck and you’re going to hell and you’re a sick horny freeeeak… Happy birthday, Buffy.

Spike replaced her hands with his own and began squeezing her breasts in time with his fucking. She felt like she was literally riding an ocean wave of him beneath her. Everything was swelling.

“Jesus, ohhh…” Buffy turned her head away from him.

Spike used two fingers to turn her chin back toward his face. “Kiss me, love.”

His hips slowed and Buffy opened her eyes, hesitating only for a few seconds— but a palpable few seconds. Then she brought her lips to his.

And he kissed her slowly. He caressed her lips with his in a sweet loverly way that forced her heart to beat even faster. His one hand had her breast and the other her cheek. This kiss was like last night’s but even more because their bodies were locked together and he was inside her and all around her, monopolizing her every sense. 

She was senseless and covered in him.

Lips parting, he whispered, “That’s my girl.”

Buffy felt her brow furrow at that. She met his eyes, his mysterious eyes that were evil and also not, but all the more evil for their not-ness. 

Those evil-not-evil eyes narrowed the longer she looked into them, so Buffy turned her face and sat up, suddenly overwhelmed by the intimacy of their position.

“Need a change of scenery, pet?”

“Yuh huh,” she said, out of breath, straddling him and staring at his toes. Spike had toes .

“No complaints here. Giddy up, cowgirl.”

Oh, God. 

Well, when in Rome…

*****

Three orgasms, five positions, and too many kisses to count later, Buffy was discarding her destroyed panties before she forgot about them. She flipped her comforter back up over her sheets that really needed an urgent washing.

This crime scene coverup, of course, would be a total waste of time if Spike didn’t move his ass and get out of her dorm room immediately.

“Had I known it took vampires fifteen minutes to put on their shoes, I would have been practicing a very different slaying protocol all these years,” she sniped angrily with her arms folded over her Cibo Matto t-shirt.

Spike, sitting at the foot of her bed lacing up his boots, looked up with a grin. “Gotta get the laces just right. Don’t wanna trip.”

“That would be a tragedy. You might fall onto a piece of wood. And die.”

He made the final tie and stood up, stepping in way too close to her— as he was wont to do. Buffy didn’t step back or react in any way other than some mildly annoyed eye rolling— as she was wont to do.

“You’re a lucky girl,” he said.

Buffy scoffed.

Spike pointed to the door. “No unexpected visitors.”

“Other than you ,” she murmured. “Lucky me.”

He smiled. “What would you’ve done? If Solider Boy’d mosied on in?”

“I don’t know. Might’ve given that whole dusting into the wind thing a try..”

“What’s happening here?” he asked abruptly. “Between us?”

She looked up sharply. He had an unusual earnestness on his face.

“Um…” she began. “Sex?”

Spike hesitated, looking sort of unsure, which she wasn’t used to seeing. “Right. ‘S just that… well, sometimes… I dunno. Seems a bit more. Sometimes.”

“More? More like what more?”

He bit down on his bottom lip a bit before saying. “Hard to put my finger on it exactly.”

Buffy felt her heart rate increasing and she had goosebumps on her arms. She rubbed them and wished he would stand further than six inches from her. “You should go. Wil—”

“ —low. Yeah. You’ve mentioned. Well, all right. I understand. Can’t let anyone catch wind of your dirty deeds.”

She looked away, studying her chocolate poster, silently willing the door not to open. It had worked for her so far.

“You know, you might wanna break up with your boyfriend. I don’t reckon he’s satisfying you.”

Buffy sighed and shifted her gaze to the ceiling. “Thanks for your input. Goodbye, Spike.”

“Kiss for the road,” he said without a question mark.

Looking at him finally, she saw the return of that cocky demeanor. Somehow that was easier than whatever Spike she’d been dealing with for the past minute.

“Fine.” Buffy closed the gap between them and pecked him quickly on the lips, stepping backw—

Spike snatched her hips and pulled her back to him. “Fuck that.”

They kissed again. Admittedly, it was a lot better this time. 

But Buffy broke it off after about thirty seconds. “ Please , Spike. Please go. I need you to go.”

He touched her lips with one finger and smiled. “Happy birthday, Buffy.”

And with that, he left.

Happy birthday, Buffy.

The sudden emptiness of the room immobilized her.

Buffy stood there, alone in her room. Empty.

Frozen in place, she held her arms tight and stared at her closed door. She thought about going to bed or taking a shower. She thought about how long Willow had been gone and if she should go looking for her. She thought about Xander and his really nice words and his offer to listen to her. She thought about her mom and Giles and school and slaying and… Worst of all, she thought about Riley and she tried to imagine the crushed look on his face if he had walked in on her sexathon with Spike. 

She felt horrible. She felt weak. She felt stupid. She felt confused. She felt lost.

But Buffy couldn’t move.

Notes:

I hope you enjoyed this chapter's sexathon.

Chapter 23

"Should I make some ‘feel better’ cookies?” Willow asked with a concerned frown.

Buffy groaned and snuggled deeper into her bundle of secret-keeping bed linens. “No.” She sighed. “Well, maybe. Cookies never hurt.”

“Was it the party? Do you have the birthday blues? I’m sorry. I just— I still feel really bad about that botched spell and from your blog it kinda seemed like you were— I dunno, a bit stressed out… about… things. So Xander and I thought a little party would be nice, but hey we’ve been wrong before. And if we were wrong this time, then I am majorly sorry. Again.”

“You didn’t do anything, Will.” Buffy sat up a little and folded her arms. “This is completely on me. All of it. Everything. I suck.”

“Should we yell at Oz again? He won’t mind.”

She considered that. “I don’t think it’ll actually make me feel any better.”

Willow sat down on the bed beside her. “Buffy, what’s wrong?”

Buffy scooted to one side of the bed so that Willow could lie beside her.

Shoulder to shoulder, they stared up at the ceiling.

“It’s… so hard to explain,” Buffy finally said.

Willow waited a moment before asking, “Is the guy in your blog posts… um, is it maybe… Spike?”

Buffy didn’t say anything, but her eyes welled up and she was thankful that Willow wasn’t looking at her.

“Okay,” Willow went on. “So… It’s Spike. Spike the vampire. Spike the soulless vampire who you sort of married because of that stupid spell and my stupid mouth gettin’ all mouthy. You wrote that you, uh, kissed him.”

Buffy closed her eyes, replaying the events of last night in her mind. The kissing and the… everything else.

“But you’re dating Riley…”

 “Yup.”

“Riley seems to… really like you.”

“Yup.”

“And I kinda thought you really liked him.”

“I… do. I do.”

Willow’s hands began to fidget as they rested on her stomach. “So… um… so…”

“I slept with him last night,” Buffy whispered.

“With… Riley?” Willow asked hopefully.

“Not with Riley…”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah.”

Willow took a breath. “I guess that explains the… hide under the covers until noon vibe you’ve got going today.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Will. Last night… I swear it’s like I’m a totally different person when I’m with… with him. God, Riley would hate that me. He’d think I was so… depraved. And he’d be right! The things I let him do, Will. The things I do. The things he says…”

“Well… sometimes… attraction is just unexplainable. It just happens. And we’re powerless to stop it. Even when it takes us completely off guard and it tipsy turvies the whole world ’til everything’s upside down and not what you thought. Sometimes it’s just… right.”

Buffy’s brow furrowed and she finally turned to look at her friend. “I’m sorry. Are you suggesting that there could be anything good or right about me sleeping with William the Bloody?”

Meeting her eyes, Willow’s grew big. “Um. Well, no. Of course not. Um. No. I just— I— nevermind.”

Buffy arched one brow.

Looking guilty, she said, “Okay. I kind of have a confession of my own.”

“Really?” Buffy perked up.

“Oh, now don’t look so excited.”

“I’d really like to talk about someone else’s screw up for once.”

“I don’t know if I’d call it a screw up, per say—”

The room phone began to ring. Both girls looked at each other, disappointed, but Buffy rolled out of bed with a groan and answered it.

Riley’s voice greeted her. “Hey, Buffy. I just wanted to know what time I’m supposed to pick you up.”

“Pick… me up…?”

“I thought we were going to your mom’s house? The whole meeting of the parents ritual? Something about birthday cupcakes. Don’t back out on me now. I’m great with parents and I’ve even prepared anecdotes.”

Buffy stared open-mouthed at Willow as she listened. “Anecdotes, huh?”

“None of which involve camo or government-issued weapons. Don’t worry.”

“It’s fine. My mom is numb to weaponry. And I look cute in camo.”

Riley laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind. I’ve got a meeting with Professor Walsh in a bit, but I can come by right after.”

Twirling the phone cord, Buffy nodded. “Sure. Yeah. Okay. I’ll see you… then.”

“You all right?”

“Me?” She snorted. “Of course! I’m…. a whole year older and wiser. Which reminds me I have laundry to do.”

“Okay. Well, you slay that laundry demon, and I will slay this meeting. We’ll confer at fourteen o’clock.”

“Fourteen? But the numbers only go to twelve.”

“Bye, Buffy.”

“Bye.”

She hung up the phone and looked at Willow. “I forgot I’m taking Riley to meet my mom today. She made cupcakes.”

“You know, you could… not?” Willow said with a shrug.

Buffy crossed her arms and sighed heavily. “What else are I supposed to do? Break up with the nice mom-acceptable boyfriend so that I can indulge in my sluttiness with a walking corpse?! That would be… insane! He’s Evil. Capital E. I’m an Idiot. Capital I. And I need to wash those sheets.”

Willow frowned and looked down. “These sheets?”

“Yeah.”

“You guys did it here ?!” she squeaked.

“Well, we…” Buffy hesitated. “We locked the door…”

Willow bolted out of Buffy’s bed. “I can’t believe you let me get into your dirty sex scandal bed!”

“Sorry,” she replied guiltily as she began bunching up the sheets. “But, hey, where were you anyway? You were out pretty late. I thought you were just walking your friend home.”

Willow’s outrage melted into something less confident. “Oh. Um. I was just… Tara showed me her room and we got to talking and… she’s really cool.”

“Yeah, she seemed super nice,” Buffy agreed, smooshing her sheets into her already-full mesh laundry hamper. “It would be weird to bring my sex sheets home to wash there, right?”

“Considering Riley is going with you, I’d say ‘oh yeah.’”

Buffy nodded. “I need quarters then…” She headed for the door, dragging her laundry behind her. “Wait. You were gonna tell me something. Before the phone rang.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I’ll tell you later. You’ve got a big day of cupcakes and denial ahead of you.”

“Okay. Don’t forget, though.”

“Believe me, I won’t.”

*****

Buffy felt like a ghost of herself, greeting Riley with an innocent kiss on the cheek. 

He smiled and opened the passenger door of his car for her. He actually seemed excited to meet her mom and do the mom small talk thing. 

She should’ve known. A+ boyfriend.

God, she felt horrible sitting beside him, not telling him how horrible she was for the horrible thing she’d done last night.

Oblivious to her distress, Riley told her about the demon they’d bagged and tagged last night after the party. Something about his casual demon-nabbing descriptions nagged at her, and that didn’t make any sense. She slayed demons, so what did she care if someone else was just abducting them? That wasn’t as bad as… death . Right?

Buffy frowned as she stared out the window and watched the orderly maple trees of her neighborhood pass by. 

“Which house am I…?”

“Oh!” She refocused, and pointed toward her house. “1630. Sorry.”

“Dreaming up your next blog post?” Riley asked with a smirk.

Eyes widening, Buffy looked at him sharply. “Huh?”

“I’m not an idiot, Buffy. And besides, there’s no reference to bog ghosts anywhere in our database.” He shrugged as he put the car in park. “You told me weeks ago that Willow was blogging. I guess you caught the bug, huh?”

Stammering only a little bit, Buffy let out a little breath and said, “Yeah. Kind of. I guess.”

“Well, I made one, too. Seems it’s all the rage.”

“What?” She smiled nervously.

“Yeah,” Riley said, looking slightly nervous himself. “It’s not really my thing, but reading the innermost thoughts of my girlfriend? That could be my thing.”

Buffy let out a short, she hoped not-too-hysterical laugh. “But you— you haven’t? Right? Read my inner thoughts?” God, even just the thought of Riley reading her blog made her want to throw up.

“You didn’t tell me your username, and I couldn't find you.”

“Oh.” She breathed a sigh of relief. 

“I searched ‘slayer’ and ‘supergirl’ and ‘badass Buffy’ all to no avail.”

Smiling a little, Buffy said, “Well, we will have to… send out the virtual search party.”

“Or you could just tell me your username.”

“Yeah! Of course! That would totally work, too.” She unbuckled her seatbelt. “Come on, I think my mom is waiting and she hates to wait!”

Buffy took a deep breath of fresh not-Riley’s-claustrophic-car air and started walking up the sidewalk to the front porch. She heard Riley’s door slam and then he jogged to her side.

“Everything okay, Buffy?”

She glanced at him and smiled, smoothing her hair. “Of course! Why do you keep asking me that?”

“I… don’t know. You just seem nervous today. Is your mom, like, a witch or something?”

Buffy snorted. “No. But I bet she’d enjoy that.” She pushed the front door open. “Mom! We’re here!”

A catastrophic clattering sound answered her from the kitchen.

Tossing a grin Riley’s way, Buffy led him into the kitchen. “Hi, Mom.”

“Buffy!” her mom greeted with a big smile, standing upright from behind the kitchen island. She looked flustered as she picked various containers up off of the tiled floor and set them on the counter. “Forgive me. I made a bit of a mess of things getting down the pitcher from the back of the cabinet— the one over the fridge. I’m starting to think we just shouldn't keep things in that cabinet.”

“Not at our heights,” Buffy agreed. “But that is an excellent segue into—” She gestured like Vanna White. “Mom, this is Riley Finn. My… very tall boyfriend.”

“Very pleased to meet you, Ms. Summers.” Riley held out his hand and gave Mom his most apple pie smile as she shook it. “I think I can help you out with your cabinet crisis.” 

Mom laughed and watched as Riley began to gather up her fallen tupperware and serving platters. “That would be wonderful. Thank you, Riley.”

Behind Riley’s back, Mom gave Buffy a very impressed “there’s a fresh man in the house, and he doesn’t even suck blood!” grin.

“What are superpowers compared to the ultimate convenience of height?” Buffy mused.

“You’re a formidable duo,” Mom said, giving Buffy a squeeze. 

“I really wish slayers could fly,” she said, hugging her mom back. “That would really add some oomph to the slayer package.”

“Yes, and then you could fly home and see me more often. I missed you. I thought you’d be back more.” She pulled out a package of lemonade concentrate and began squeezing it into the empty pitcher.

Buffy put an elbow on the counter as she watched. “I really meant to. Things have been… so crazy lately. You have no idea.” She added perkily, “But hey, isn’t it awesome that you haven’t had to deal with any broken windows lately?”

“Yes, and if only I could explain all this to the home insurance company.” Mom smiled at her fondly and Buffy felt herself suddenly aching for her simpler high school days, which was a thought she’d never anticipated. “So are things slayer crazy or school crazy or…” She glanced at Riley knowingly. “Boy crazy?”

Buffy felt her cheeks pinken ever so slightly. “Well it is me. So, that would be ‘D. All of the above.’”

“I resent that,” Riley said, closing the cabinet with blatant ‘my work here is finished’ pride. “I’m not crazy at all.”

“But Buffy’s crazy about you. I can tell,” Mom said mischievously.

“ Mom .”

With a laugh, her mom set the pitcher beneath the tap in the sink and began filling it with water. “You’ve got quite a pile of mail on the table over there, Buffy. I’ve ignored every motherly instinct to snoop and left it all for you to open.”

“Well thank you ,” Buffy said exaggeratedly as she sat down at the table and picked up an envelope. “I would’ve been so bummed if you’d stumbled upon my invitation to subscribe to Seventeen magazine.”

“So, Riley, tell me about yourself. Buffy has been light on the details, even if she was generous enough to grace me with a visit for her birthday.” 

Shaking her head, Buffy said, “Oi with the guiltage already!”

Riley launched into a chipper monologue about growing up in Iowa and how much he missed his mom and her home cooking. This must have been one of his prepared anecdotes. She had to hand it to him. He was good at this. 

Buffy, meanwhile, was intrigued by the extra large manilla envelope at the bottom of her mail pile with DO NOT BEND stamped on it in red ink.

Riley came to sit beside her as he recounted the thrilling day in which he had been admitted to UC Sunnydale. He put his hand on Buffy’s knee as she curiously tore the envelope open.

“Sunny California,” Riley went on. “A hell of a culture shock for a farm kid like me…”

Sliding out an oversized piece of paper, Buffy read the top of it and felt her stomach drop and her legs go instantly numb. If she’d been standing, she definitely wouldn’t be anymore. 

Her eyes darted to Riley to see if he had noticed, and judging by his sudden silence and furrowed brow, he definitely had.

State of Nevada
Marriage Certificate

Buffy Anne Summers
&
William "the Bloody" Pratt

“What is that?” Riley asked.

“Oh, I was wondering about that one,” Mom said, setting three empty glasses on the wooden table. “Looked important.”

Buffy tried to shove the paper back into the envelope, but her hands were shaking and it wouldn’t go back in, so she flipped it over, flat on the table instead. If she just kept her hands here forever, then no one else would ever see it. “It’s— it’s— nothing. It’s… just nothing.”

Riley was frowning. “Kinda didn’t look like nothing.” The white corner of something else in the envelope was sticking out and Riley reached for it.

Buffy slapped her hand on top of his. “What are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” he asked suspiciously.

“I— this is… so not what it… might look like.” Oh God, oh God, oh God.

Riley pulled out a glossy picture. A picture of Buffy beaming like a psychopath with her cheek pressed to Spike’s cheek as they posed for the cheesiest wedding photo in the history of wedding photos. God, they looked ecstatic .

“Is that Hostile 17 ?!”

Buffy bit her lip. 

She’d gone her whole life just breathing without thinking about it and suddenly the amount of effort that was necessary to get breath in and out of her body was becoming so unbelievably overwhelming that she wasn’t sure she was gonna get the job done today. Today, it might be time to call it quits. Toss in the towel on life.

“ Buffy ,” Riley said, so much scrambled emotion packed into that one word. 

“What’s wrong?” Mom asked, pitcher of lemonade in hand as she returned to the table. 

Riley flipped the photograph around to show it to her. “Just a little curious about this, that’s all. ”

Oxygen in. Oxygen out. Oxygen was crucial for the brain things— brain things like speaking. 

Mom looked at the picture, mouth dropping open. “That’s the man who liked my cocoa— the vampire who liked my cocoa! Buffy?! Oh, tell me you didn’t marry a vampire. I thought we’d moved past this kinda thing.”

“Tell me you’re not married ,” Riley said, the ‘M’ word coming out like poison.

Lightheaded, Buffy looked from one appalled face to the other. Tentatively, she said, “I can… explain.”

Chapter 24

Notes:

ENORMOUS thank you to loveisntbrains for fulfilling all my Spuffy wedding photo manip dreams! How did she do this? What sorcery has she unlocked? Honestly, it is almost too beautiful. In fact, its gorgeousness might be too much for this ridiculous story. But I will take it because I adore it and LOOK AT IT!

“Well, you see, um… Okay, so… There. Was. This. Spell."

Sitting at the kitchen table with her boyfriend and her mother, Buffy’s heart was racing as her own stupid face taunted her with a blistering white smile from the photograph currently in Riley’s hands. What an awful photo! She snatched it up and threw it to the side, hearing the paper flop to the ground. She only vaguely remembered even taking that picture. It all felt like something from a drea— nightmare at this point.

The crashing reality of it, though, was making her feel sick. That and the appalled disappointment in Riley’s eyes, the ‘knew it was too good to be true’ resignation in her mother’s.

“Vampires cast spells to marry their sworn enemies now?” Riley asked with harsh disbelief. “And it just so happens to be the vampire you were protecting the other night?”

“I was not protecting him!” Buffy snapped. She ran her hands through her hair. “It’s… complicated. Very.”

“Buffy, what is going on here?”

Mom knelt down and picked up the photo. She glanced at the certificate on the table and then back at the photo. “I always had this awful nagging feeling that I wouldn’t get to see you in your wedding dress.” She sighed. “I wish I’d been there.”

“Mom, I’m not married ! It’s not my wedding dress because it’s not a real wedding. You didn’t miss anything because this— this wasn’t real !”

“According to the state of Nevada…” Mom said dubiously, glancing at the certificate.

Riley uttered a faint, “Buffy.”

“Riley, I…” He looked so sad, like she’d ripped the rug out from beneath his feet and was standing over him spinning a stake and cackling. “I did not want this! Please believe me. Willow accidentally cast this crazy spell, and it made me do this! It made Spike do this! And for, like, one stupid totally insignificant night we really thought we were, um, we thought… well, we did this,” Buffy uttered helplessly as she gestured to the picture. “And the next day when the spell broke, I was horrified! Repulsed . Royally pissed off! I just wanted to go home and forget that any of this had ever happened.” Which had been a big fat fail in so so many ways.

“When was this?” Riley asked her.

“Like a month ago? Right before that big ‘nobody could speak’ debacle. We, um, we weren’t really together yet…” she offered half-heartedly.

Riley nodded, seeming somewhat relieved by that. “But you’re… married.”

“ No .” She shook her head vehemently.

“Buffy, we’re looking at the proof. And you said for a whole night you…” his words drifted off as his brow scrunched. “Wait. Did you… spend the night with him?”

Buffy stood up from the table, chair flying back against the wall behind her. “I need to go to the bathroom—”

Riley grabbed her hand. He looked so honest and good. “Answer me.”

She felt her eyes tear up. Helplessly, she glanced at her mom who looked worried and curious to hear Buffy’s answer. To Riley, she whispered feebly, “It was the spell.”

She watched his face crumble.

Then she bolted from the room.

*****

Buffy did go to the bathroom— the upstairs bathroom. She washed her trembling hands and stared at her cowardly face in the mirror.

She had to tell him.

The Vegas part? That was the easy part. And even that had been unbearably difficult to explain. All that disappointment. Buffy’s perfect girlfriend image shattering into a thousand pieces in a matter of minutes. What was Riley going to think of her when he realized the whole truth?

Leaving the bathroom, Buffy could hear soft murmuring coming from the kitchen. She wondered what on earth Riley and her mom were saying to each other, but she was too ashamed to go find out. Instead, she went to her bedroom.

Still blissfully the same. 

Buffy sat down on her bed and picked up good old Mr. Gordo. 

“You’re a pig, Spike. You’re a horrible, horrible pig. And even if you didn’t make all this happen, you took advantage of it. You took advantage of me and whatever crazy spell drug we were on!”

“That’s bollocks and you know it! We both wanted every bloody moment. You were soft putty in my hands. You were literally on your knees begging for my cock in your mouth like a little—”

“Finish that sentence and I will kill you right now, Spike, I swear to God. I am caring less and less about your little handicap.”

“Fine. Be a stuck up bitch all you want. I expect nothing less. But don’t lie .”

She sighed and hugged her little stuffed pig to her chest.

She had to stop lying to Riley. She had to figure out what was driving her toward all this badness in the first place. And she would. 

Later.

*****

A knock on the door woke Buffy from her accidental nap. 

Her mom poked her head in. “Everything okay?”

Squeezing her dumb toy, Buffy sat up with a deep inhale. “Not really.”

“Oh, Buffy.” She came in all the way. “I hope you don’t mind— I sent Riley home. I told him I’d drive you back to campus when you were ready.”

“Thanks. I’m sure he loved that.”

“He seems nice. He definitely cares a lot about you,” Mom said, sitting down on the edge of Buffy’s bed.

Buffy tried to smile, but it came out all wobbly. “Cares? Or cared?”

“I think he’s understandably rattled by discovering that his new, nineteen-year-old girlfriend married a vampire in Las Vegas last month.”

Buffy felt that familiar flood of panic at the whole thing being vocalized so bluntly like that. Then she noticed the flicker of amusement in her mother’s eyes.

“Oh my God,” Buffy said, brow furrowing. “You think this is funny ?”

“Well.” Her mom looked away and then back at her daughter, trying to restrain her smile. 

Buffy chastised her with an indignant, “ Mom !”

“What? Am I supposed to prefer the kind of crisis in which you risk your life to fight an ugly giant snake demon?”

“No…” Buffy admitted begrudgingly.

“He did seem like a fairly nice vampire when I talked with him— as far as vampires go. He requested extra marshmallows in his hot chocolate and then mostly complained a lot about his ex-girlfriend. It sounded like there was something very wrong with her.”

Rolling her eyes, Buffy said, “Yeah, well there’s something very wrong with Spike, too. A lot wrong. His glee in the killing of innocent people being very high on that list.”

“Yeah, I don’t like that,” Mom agreed grimly. Buffy nodded. “Are you okay, though?”

“I’m just worried about Riley. I thought I was finally doing something good in the relationship department. Something normal. And I’ve completely screwed it up.”

“Well, I’m worried about you . You’re my daughter and you’ve evidently been through… a lot. And I know what Las Vegas is like.”

Buffy narrowed her eyes. “How do you know what Las Vegas is like?”

“I was young once, too. Though I skipped the impulsive wedding—” A new terrifying thought entered her brain. “Oh God, you’re not pregnant are you?!”

Equally panicked, Buffy yelped, “No! God, no. He’s a vampire ! He can’t. That could never ever happen.” Or at least she’d always assumed. Should she ask Giles? That would be an uncomfortable conversation.

“Right. Of course not,” her mom said, breathing a sigh of relief and standing up. “Sorry. I’m a mom. It’s my job to worry about these things. But, hey, you’ve put at least one ‘vampire dating my daughter’ worry to rest.”

“I am not dating Spike!”

Mom lifted her hands in surrender. “I know. I know. But it sounded better than ‘vampire sleeping with my daughter.’”

Buffy groaned and slumped back into her bed, burying her face in a pillow.

“I’ll let you rest. Come down for a cupcake when you’re ready.”

“‘Kay,” Buffy grumbled.

*****

After two cupcakes and a glass— one glass, her mom insisted— of celebratory pinot grigio, Buffy was cleaning dishes and wondering why her most recent life catastrophe had turned her mom into Gal Pal Cool Mom who offered her sweets and alcohol. Maybe this was just getting older, moving out, and growing up. Maybe mom needed some wine herself to cope with the recent news. Or maybe her mom felt sorry for her since she herself had journeyed and battled through the hellish landscape of Divorce and knew it wasn’t a thrilling prospect when you weren’t even twenty years old yet.

Could Buffy take Spike to court? Hm.

Dishes clean, Buffy eyed the half-empty— depending on one’s perspective— bottle of wine on the counter. She glanced toward the living room where her mother was watching TV and decided it was fine to take another quick swig. 

Mmm… Coping Juice.

Then she picked up the phone in the kitchen and called her dorm room. Willow picked up.

“Hey, Will. I just wanted to let you know that I’m gonna stay at my mom’s house tonight.”

“Oh okay. Does that mean things went well or not so well with the whole Mom/Riley meeting?”

“Well…” Buffy grimaced. “There were high points and low. I’ll explain it later. I do have a question for you, though.”

“Shoot! Metaphorically.”

“Say that someone wanted to read my blog and I didn’t want them to read my blog, is there, like, a way I could… make that happen?”

Willow hummed with thought while Buffy drank some more wine. “You can make certain entries private if you want. Or delete them. Or set it up so only people you friend can read your posts.”

“Okay. I need to do one of those things when I get back. Riley kinda knows about the blog, and…”

“Ooh! That’s bad!”

“Yes! Very . But he doesn’t know my username, so it should be fine for a little while. That is, if he doesn’t already want to break up with me after how today went, which wouldn’t be too terribly surprising.”

Willow gasped. “Does he know? About Spike?”

“Not… entirely—” There was a loud smacking sound then, coming from Willow’s end of the phone call. Buffy asked, “What was that?”

“Oh, nothing! Tara is here. She dropped a book. A regular book. Trig or something. Um. So you said you’re definitely not coming back tonight?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so? What kind of odds are we talking here?”

Buffy lifted a brow. “I am staying here, Willow. I will see you tomorrow. Okie dokie?”

“Okie dokie smokie!”

Contemplating that odd goodbye, Buffy hung up the phone, drank a little more wine, and set the bottle back on the counter. She considered rejoining her mom and burying her misery in more Frasier reruns, but then a different feeling took over her.

And with a quick and blurry goodbye, Buffy was out the front door.

*****

Smash .

The door to Spike’s crypt crashed into the wall as Buffy kicked her way in.

“Bloody hell. Must you crash in here like a wild bloody animal every time?”

Spike, looking unimpressed by her entrance, was standing in the middle of the room in his typical dark denim and t-shirt, coat and big boots.

“Going somewhere?” Buffy asked. “You’re all… dressed.”

His irritation slithered smoothly into a sexy leer. “Wild bloody animal indeed. We jumpin’ right to the naked portion then?”

“No! Just… you look like a man on a mission is all. It’s suspicious.”

Spike’s head cocked to the side, his eyes raking over her as unsubtly as possible. “I am. As are you, it seems.”

“Please.” She scoffed and folded her arms. “I’m not a man.”

Stepping closer and skimming her cheek with his knuckles, he said, “No, you’re definitely not.”

He leaned in to kiss her, but she shoved him back the instant his lips brushed hers. “No! Not this time, bucko. I’m— I am mad at you!”

Spike recovered quickly, smiling a little. “That right?”

“Yes, that’s right! My whole life is ruined! And it’s all because of you!”

“Uh huh. Are you drunk?”

“Shut up! Can’t you tell when I’m in the middle of a rant?”

“Apologies.”

Buffy put her hands on her hips and attempted to focus, but he was so good at zapping the wind out of her sails. “You…” Was she drunk? Maybe a little. 

“Ruined your life. Go on.”

She narrowed her eyes and let out an exasperated breath. God, he was so annoying! “Riley knows! About the… spell . The Vegas stuff.”

“This Vegas stuff?” Spike asked, pointing at the dry erase board still on the back of the door she’d slammed in.

“ No .” She gave the board a micro-glare. “But they sent a certificate to my house— a real one! There was a picture and everything,” she finished with a groan.

Clearly entertained by this, Spike snorted. “So now there’s trouble in paradise?”

“Yeah, Spike! You could call it trouble! And Riley wants to read my stupid blog now— the stupid blog that Willow told me to do in the first place, and that cannot happen because—” She eyed Spike warily. “Because there are all sorts of bad things there and why am I telling you this? What is wrong with me? You’re as old as dirt. You have no idea what a blog even is!”

“‘S like a diary on the internet,” he said simply.

“Why do you—? You know what, nevermind. I don’t care. I do not care.”

Spike’s eyes danced mischievously. “So the slayer blogs, huh?”

Buffy rolled her eyes as Spike began ambling around the room. “Don’t get all excited—”

“Dear diary,” he mused aloud as he walked and tapped his chin. “Another day of scrapin’ by and doin’ a piss-poor job at school—”

“Excuse me?”

“ — So I picked out my most favorite slutty skirt, which my boyfriend didn’t even notice—”

“Please stop.”

“ — and pranced off to the cemetery. Dunno why I pranced off to the cemetery.” He feigned confusion. “Reckon I thought that if I bent over and held tight to a tombstone that a certain vampire I know might come along ‘n satisfy that gnawing ache I’ve had ever since I got back from Sin City. Makes me wet just thinkin’ ‘bout—”

“Okay! That is absolutely enough out of you.”

Lasciviously, he asked, “What’re you gonna do to shut me up?”

“Nothing! I’m gonna do… nothing.” She underlined it with a hand gesture. “I— ugh!”

Spike smirked and put his hands in his pockets as he stopped walking right in front of her. “What’re you doin’ here, Buffy?”

“I don’t know!” she exclaimed hopelessly. “I just— I can’t face Riley. And I don’t… understand this. I can’t keep doing this. I hate myself for coming here. I hate myself for what I’ve done with you. I just hate…”

“What do you hate? Really?” he said softly, eyes focused like lightning. 

It was disarming how he looked at her. “I hate what an awful person I’ve become because of you.”

“Right. Because I make you feel so…” He ducked his head to make sure the question landed. “Bad?”

“Yes! I feel bad . Kind of an understatement actually.”

“I think you feel good. I make you feel good. And the guilt of that is what’s eatin’ you up.”

“Hence the badness, Spike. Guilt is a signal! It is a signal of doing the wrong thing! It is the little Jiminy Cricket inside all of us chirping at us to do better! And I have to listen to the chirping. I have to stop. If I stop now—”

“If you stop now, then you’ll never figure out why you love it so much.”

Buffy glared at him and said with disgust, “I don’t love you.”

He glared right back. “‘Course you don’t. You love the thrill. You love the… intensity.” He snatched up her wrists and held them to his chest. She felt her heart leap and her breath hasten. “Face it, pet, you’re made for war. You aren’t satisfied ‘less you’ve got somethin’ dangerous to fight, and I give you the battle you need. Perhaps only a vampire can.”

“No,” she said faintly.

“Would explain a hell of a lot, wouldn’t it?”

“No. No, no, no! No .” She broke free from his hold. “Angel was different. Angel—”

“Was still a monster. On a leash. His leash was a soul and mine’s a nasty bit o’ tech. Either way, the second we stop killing, which is a line too far for you, you crave us.” He shook his head scornfully. “And I’ll be damned if I let myself become anything like that wanker.”

Buffy crossed her arms and turned her back to him. Everything he was saying— it made sense. She hated that it made sense, but she’d come here for an answer and maybe this was it.

“You’re right. We do have to stop this,” Spike said, his voice changing to something more grave. He sounded like he was having a revelation of his own. “Or it’ll ruin us both.”

Shocked that they finally agreed on something, she stared at a flickering candle on his wall and whispered, “How?”

“You have to help me.” He was standing close behind her now. Goosebumps spread across her skin, anticipating his fiery touch. “Help me get this bloody chip outta my head.”

“What? I am not doing that, you idiot. Are you insa—”

“If you do,” His lips were almost touching her ear. “Then you can kill me, guilt-free. Or I can kill you. Either way, this whole mess, this sodding crime against nature will be over .”

Buffy shook her head, focused on the flame. “And why on earth would you want that?”

“Because I can’t live like this— like half the man I know I am. You hate how you feel? I hate how I feel, too. And sometimes I feel so —” He cut himself off, voice strained. She felt something lurking beneath his surface. “It ain’t right, the things inside me lately. So I’m either gonna kill you or be killed by you. And that’s bloody that.”

“So you want a fight. A real one.” She turned around to look at him anew. Spike was turning out to be more complicated than she thought.

“Tell me you don’t.”

“No,” she admitted, her fists clenching. “I do. I really do.”

Spike grinned, and then he was looking at her lips and his hands were on her hips. “Brilliant. Now, I don’t reckon we can possibly get this chip out tonight.”

Buffy knew that devil look in his eyes all too well at this point. “Doubtful.”

“How ever shall we pass the time?”

Chapter 25

A swift left hook to his too-chiseled cheek. “ Uhnnnn… ”

A knee to his gut, and he’d grunt— yeah, just like that!

Then she’d flip through the air (a little style never hurt!) and she’d land effortlessly on his shoulders. His head would be between her legs— for the last freaking time! The last time, damn it! 

“Oh, yeah. Ohhhhh , God!” He really was so good with his tongue…

Ahem . 

And she’d twist and she’d jerk and “Ahh!!” 

He’d be dust .

And she’d be back on her feet. 

Once again, she’d be the Buffy she’d always been. She would wipe her hands of his ashy memory and finally get on with her life. No more distractions. No more insanity. No more ruined panties dropped inconspicuously into dumpsters.

Buffy stared dumbly at the roots of the trees that encroached on Spike’s tombly home as she caught her breath, her limbs all limp and unlimby.

No more no more no more.

Spike slithered up her body, radiating sexual victory and the insatiable hunger she’d come to associate with him. He kissed her, and he tasted like sex. It had grossed her out at one point, but that Buffy was no more. Now, she was a complicit sex fiend who got off on weird stuff just like Spike clearly did. Including the taste of her own arousal.

God, he kissed good. She hated him so much for kissing like this. Why couldn’t Riley kiss her like he’d been wandering the desert for three days and finally found a waterfall and she was the waterfall? Why couldn’t he?! It wasn’t fair. Her life wasn’t fair!

Oh no. His hands were at it again.

“Mmph.” She kissed him back, clinging to his face as he squeezed her ass with both hands. 

“Tell me what I wanna hear, pet,” Spike whispered, his forehead pressing against hers.

Unsurprisingly, he was really into the talking stuff. Riley never talked…

“Ohhh…” Buffy closed her eyes and stomped down her neglected inhibitions. “Fuck me. Fuck me, please . Need you to— need you to fuck me.”

“Atta girl. I’ll fuck you good.” He trailed two fingers along her slick slit. “Christ. This cunt’s insatiable, innit?”

“Spike! Just shut up and—”

He covered her mouth with one hand and then stilled the rest of her squirming with one piercing gaze. “ You shut up, you greedy bint.” He smirked. “In fact…” He took hold of her hair and before she knew it, Buffy was on all fours, her lips around the head of his cock. “Much better,” he growled.

She would’ve fought it, but… God, her pussy was throbbing . 

And this wasn’t so bad. Not bad at all.

“That’s right, slayer,” he encouraged breathlessly as Buffy swirled her tongue and slowly bobbed her head up and down his shaft. Her hair was so tight in his hand. She closed her eyes and moaned deep in her throat. “Bloody… perfect.”

Perfect! He’d said, ‘perfect.’ She was totally nailing this blowjob thing! 

For Spike . 

Ugh.

“Oh, fuck,” Spike grumbled as angry teeth suddenly entered the equation. She sucked harder, digging her nails into his stupidly strong thighs.

Abruptly he pulled her up and their eyes locked, both of them panting.

“What?” she asked.

“Somethin’ piss you off?”

“ No . I mean, well, you .”

“Mmm.” His keen eyes narrowed.

Then Buffy yelped as he flipped her to her stomach and covered her body with his. She felt the weight of his dick on the back of her thigh and almost— very nearly almost— just relaxed and let him plow into her the way she knew he wanted to.

But instead.

She rolled. And grabbed. And reversed their positions.

“Something pissing you off?” she asked, looking down at him with all the arrogance she could muster in bed. Then Buffy frowned. Why’d he look so excited?  

“Just you,” Spike said, quoting her clearly. “You know, typical mortal enemy stuff.”

“Uh huh.” She noticed his eyes drifting to her breasts.

“Seething, um, hatred...”

“Right.”

“Wishing I could just…” His voice turned gritty as he met her eyes. “Drink you dry.”

Buffy felt her brow furrow at that. “Mood kill, much?”

“You’re the one ruined a perfectly good blowie with teeth.”

She rolled her eyes, and slid herself onto his cock. “Whatever.”

“Ohhh, yeah…” Spike groaned, eyes closing with bliss.

It was better when his eyes closed. Buffy closed hers, too, as she began to rock and relish how good he filled her up, how decadent it all felt. He was stiff as stone and she squeezed him with every muscle she had.

“Bloody…”

“Ohhhhh,” she wailed, thankful for the privacy of crypt sex.

Buffy lifted herself up on her knees, rising and then slamming back down. She felt Spike’s hand slap her ass and then stay latched to her soft flesh there.

“Oh, yeah,” he encouraged, fingers digging in. “Ride me, slayer. Ride me into the fucking ground.”

She moaned and then moaned louder when his other hand pinched her nipple. 

Finally, she opened her eyes to see his blazing back at her. She felt her heart leap, anxious suddenly beneath his intense gaze. It reminded her of the last time they’d done this— how intimate that had suddenly felt— the kiss in the cemetery, and a few other small moments that actually felt very very big all at once. 

Pitter patter pitter patter…

What was this between them? 

It stilled her. 

Panting, she watched his face as his head cocked to one side. He studied her like a science project. 

“Fuck me, baby. Go on.”

Kay, well… that was… not a terrible idea. She had no argument to the contrary.

So Buffy squeezed her eyes shut again and tossed her long hair back over her shoulders, arching her back and grinding into him with her hands on his thighs.

“Mmm,” Spike responded, caressing her breasts. “Bounce for me, baby. Show me how bad you want this cock.”

“Oh, God…”

She did everything he said. 

It was so much easier than stopping to wonder why the sight of his face was making her dizzy and giving her scary heart palpitations. 

It was easier to just be his little slayer slut. That’s what this really was after all. A we’re-supposed-to-kill-not-fuck kink. And they were gonna put an end to it soon, so why not escape into the role while she still had it?

There was an echo from the volume of the moan she let out as she began to bounce her body up and down.

“Talk to me, pet. Tell me how you love it.”

She did love it. She remembered how easily she’d joined in with Spike’s dirtiness in Las Vegas, how fun and lacking in guilt it had been to let go. She remembered that.

“Ahhhh, Spike ,” she said, her voice high— almost whiny— as her brain flew back to Sin City. “Oh, God! Need your— big— cock inside me!”

He sounded surprised, but not in a bad way. “ Bloody hell . Take it.”

“I just wanna— oh God!— I just wanna fuck you all night!”

“ Yeah , you do.” Spike sat up, his hands splayed on her lower back. “You will . Dirty little…”

She dared to look at him. His face was alight with fresh lust and some kind of… awe? That was… well, Buffy couldn’t think about that.

“Keep going,” he whispered, his smile all mischief. “You’re incredible.”

They kissed for a long moment, tongues warring wet against each other.

“Mmmmmm…..” She pulled back, breaking the kiss. She noticed how his lips magnetized toward her, instinctively attempting to close the gap again, but he stopped. 

Buffy whimpered as she lifted herself up and off of his dick.

“What’s this?” he asked breathlessly. 

She bit her bottom lip. “You promised me something…”

“Did I now?”

Buffy grinned a little and nodded.

*****

“Relax, relax, relax…” he murmured, caressing her bottom as he slowly pushed inside.

He’d been prepared. With lube. 

It was kind of thoughtful?

Lying on her back this time, Buffy made a soft whimper, spreading her legs, beckoning him in.

“‘M not hurtin’ you am I?”

“Mmnt mmn…”

“Say it a bit clearer for the bloody chip’s sake, eh?”

Buffy laughed. In spite of— so much. “You’re not hurting me. It feels… really tight. But— but good.”

“Not even halfway, pet. Christ, your arse is amazing.”

“Oh, God ,” she uttered breathlessly, her hand smacking down on the mattress, fisting the sheets.

He moved in and out, slowing when he felt resistance. But he’d been right. The more she relaxed, the better it felt. She’d never felt so… penetrated.

Relax. Let go. Tonight, you’re the vampire’s slutty slayer. Just tonight. One last night, then you can de-chip him and fight to the death and return order to the universe and everything will be dandy and—

“Spike!” 

“Yeah?” he asked, startled.

Buffy put a forearm over her eyes. “I can take more. Please. I— I need more.”

“Right. Happy to oblige…”

“Ahh!” she yelled, arms flailing up over her head.

“Writhe, baby, writhe on my cock. You ‘n all your little holes ’re mine.”

When did he start calling her baby? Oh, who cared? He was touching her clit.

“ Spike . Ohhhhhwwwwuhhh…”

He was really fucking her now and the sensation was bigger, more overwhelming than she’d expected. 

“That’s it,” Spike whispered in her ear, leaning closer. “Ain’t it just right, me fillin’ you?”

She uttered something incomprehensible back.

“You want more, slayer?”

“Yuhhh,” she exhaled.

“Take that—” He grunted as he did some kind of twisty thing that made her shout. “ —as a yes.”

Buffy reached for him and he came to her without thought. Feet braced on the mattress, she hugged his neck, groaning like a wild woman into his ear. “It’ssogood.”

He chuckled with delight. “I know my girl. Knew you’d—” 

He faltered. 

And she faltered. 

Because that phrase was a bridge too far. My girl . It was like ‘baby’ but worse. It was… God, what was so wrong with it? It was— it was boyfriend-y! That’s what it was. It was just weird and not them and neither of them liked it. At all. His eyes had doubled in size.

Buffy swallowed hard, feeling very thirsty all the sudden.

“I love it,” she breathed. “Please don’t stop. It makes me feel… so… dirty.”

That was kind of a lie actually. She’d felt dirty all night, but… it just seemed like the right thing to say. Like the thing they both needed to hear right now.

And she was right. Relief washed across his face, and he nodded furiously. “You… are… a very dirty girl.”

“And you— ohhhh…..”

“What am I?” he coaxed.

“Bad. Ohhhhhh… so bad.”

“You got that right,” he uttered softly.

Then he pounded her hard while she screamed.

*****

Buffy had never felt so whorish and spent and… sticky in all her life.  

Her limbs were all noodle as she sawed in breath after breath, her heartbeat slowly mellowing back to something resembling human. 

Her head was on Spike’s bicep. They were both flat on their backs, recovering from the past few hours or days or however long Buffy had been caught in this evil sex vortex. 

He’d given her a blanket.

“So…” Spike said to the ceiling. “You liked it, huh?”

Buffy stifled her shocked laughter and hugged the blanket to her chest. “You heard all the Buffy sounds right? I mean, I never pegged you as a complete idiot.”

“Didn’t you?” 

“Well, maybe sometimes.” She turned her face toward his, trying her best to hide her amusement.

Spike seemed to see it anyway, looking back at her. He grinned, eyes playful— cocky, but playful. “I’m happy to’ve broadened your horizons, pet.”

“That’s… one way to put it,” Buffy said, all humor fading as she thought of all the unfair comparisons she’d been making between him and Riley. Between sex and love. She may not love Riley yet , but she could . One day. Love could happen for them. And it could never happen with Spike. All this sex was just… indulgent. 

Sensing the shift and wrestling with one of his own, Spike’s brow furrowed as he cleared his throat. “I can show you where I came up after I escaped the bloody chocolate factory. Think they’ve got an underground lair o’ some sort. You can bat your little girly lashes while I take out some guards ‘n—”

“What? What the hell are you saying right now?”

Spike raised his brows like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Talkin’ ‘bout our plan. We gotta de-chip me. You agreed.”

“I know I agreed!” she snapped back.

“ Well .” He shrugged. “What’s the bloody problem then?”

Scoffing, Buffy said, “I don’t know. The fact that we’re naked ?”

“The hell do you want from me?” He propped himself up on one elbow. “Bloody cuddles? You wanna bask in the sodding afterglow?”

“No!” Buffy sat up all the way, covering herself with the blanket even as she gesticulated wildly with her other hand. “But— ugh! Let me at least put some clothes on!”

Spike bit his tongue. “Reckon I’d focus better if you didn’t.”

“Well, make up your mind, you idiot! And— and your plan is terrible! It’s not even a plan! You—”

He growled with frustration and grabbed her by the back of her head, pulling her in for a hard, bruisey kiss.

Buffy felt herself whimper in the back of her throat, but her hands grabbed his sharp cheekbones and held on tight without pushing him away. Stupid brainless hands.

Spike snapped his lips from hers, breathing weird like the weird vampire he was. “‘Least there’s one way to shut you up.”

Buffy narrowed her eyes to slits and traced his jawline with one finger, her brow V-ed with thought. “We’re bad at… talking.”

“Depends on the kinda talk,” he said lasciviously.

She felt herself flush, remembering the kinds of things she’d said to him tonight.

“I’ll… ask Riley… some questions,” she said softly, heart aching with guilt at his name on her tongue. “Try to find out more about your chip.”

“Yeah, you ask Riley ,” Spike said, his tone nonchalant, his face all chalant.

Buffy gasped as he cupped one breast possessively, tearing her blanket away. She watched his eyes darken.

“Ask Riley…” His head tilted to one side. “Where all those bruises on your thighs came from?”

“Spike.” She shook her head, knowing very well how half-hearted her protest was.

“Ask Riley why it hurts to walk? You’re the bloody slayer —” He put his fingers inside her abruptly, eyes focused like lightning on hers. “ — for Christ’s sake…”

Buffy couldn’t help the sound she made as he fingered her and… glared? at her.

“You got a lot to ask Riley about.”

“Stop saying his name.”

“Make me.”

She grabbed his face and kissed him.

One last time.

Chapter 26

“Hi.”

“Hi…”

Buffy stood there in the mid-morning sun on the porch of Lowell House, a plastic container full of Mom’s leftover chocolate birthday cupcakes in her hands. Riley lingered in the open doorway looking guarded and… tall.

“I, uh, I come bearing sugar,” Buffy said with a hopeful smile.

Riley tried to smile back, but it was obviously forced and painful.

“Could we maybe… talk?” she asked.

Riley nodded and stepped outside. “It’s not quite noon, so… don’t wanna wake the guys inside.”

“Of course.”

Together, they sat on the concrete steps, only the sounds of happy birds piercing the thick air. 

Buffy smoothed her hands over her jeans.

“You should’ve told me,” Riley finally said.

Buffy looked at him slowly. She agreed softly, “I know.”

“I just keep thinking of that night when we ran into him in the cemetery—”

Spike was a him now. Interesting.

“ — how he looked at you.”

Face scrunching, Buffy said, “What do you mean?”

“He obviously likes you.”

Buffy snorted. “Uh, no. He really doesn’t.”

Riley shook his head and sighed. “I thought it was a predatory thing before. Vampire. Slayer.”

“A tale as old as time,” she murmured.

“I got all protective because I thought he wanted to hurt you—”

“He definitely does .”

“ — but after seeing that picture and knowing what I know now—” 

“ Riley . Come on.”

“He wants you.”

Buffy turned away from Riley’s earnest face. She could deny that Spike liked her— he really didn’t. Loathed was more apt. But saying he didn’t want her? Even she couldn’t deny that. There were… things… that Spike definitely wanted from her. At least for right now.

“But he doesn’t love you,” Riley went on, taking her hand from her lap. “ I love you.”

She looked at him, blinking and clinging hard to his hand. 

He looked more intense than she’d ever seen him before. “I love you, Buffy. That’s all I’ve been able to think about since I found out. I couldn’t bear the sight of you in a wedding dress, looking so… happy… with anyone else— let alone a vampire. I couldn’t bear the thought of you in bed with him.” Riley spat the words out and Buffy swallowed hard. Then he said, “I can’t bear it because I’m too in love with you. It hurts too much.”

Buffy felt like she was flying down the big drop of the rollercoaster, only she hadn’t heard any of the click click clicking that had taken her to the top. How had she gotten here? How had he? Why didn’t he look as terrified as she felt?

“I’m sorry,” Riley quickly said, smiling nervously. “I’m not trying to freak you out. You’re obviously… freaked. And possibly breaking my hand.”

She released his hand with a yelp of, “I’m sorry.” She clutched her hands together at her chest, guarding them like weapons. They were, weren’t they? Every time she touched him…

Riley rubbed his pained hand. “You’re even stronger than I thought.”

“Sorry,” she breathed again, heart thumping.

“Me too.” Riley shrugged. “I just… I had to tell you.”

Buffy took a deep breath. She should tell him, too. Everything. She should tell Riley the complete and total truth. This was the moment. This was her cue. She should take it. 

Panic tears immediately sprung to her eyes at the thought. It would crush him. It would absolutely crush him to know what she’d done. Who could respond to ‘I love you’ with ‘I’m cheating on you’?

She was a terrible person.

“Buffy.” He touched her burning cheek. “Why are you crying?”

She turned away, wiping her eyes. “I— I don’t know.”

“It’s okay if you're not ready. You don’t have to say it back. I just needed you to hear—”

“Stop.” She gasped and looked at him with big wet eyes. “Stop saying all the right things!”

Riley looked confused by that, as anyone probably would be.

“Look, Riley. I—” Buffy felt like she might be sick. “I am a mess. I am… a disaster in fact. Clearly. You’d be a lot better off if you just—” She hiccuped with grief, her throat tangled and tight. God, how had she screwed this all up so badly?! “If you just tried to forget me. Being with me’s only gonna hurt you. I— I’ve never even told you about my last boyfriend. We nearly killed each other— tons of times— and all we wanted was to be together! I loved him with all my heart, but then I had to stab him and send him to hell for a hundred years and I don’t want anything like that to happen to you, Riley!”

Perplexed, he asked, “Why are you trying to scare me away?”

“Because you love me,” she said softly, tears streaming. “And that’s… bound to end in bad.”

“You should have a little faith.”

Voice cracking, Buffy said, “You should have less.”

*****

I joined the blogging world for one reason and one reason only. My incredible girlfriend. Supposedly, you can process things differently when you write them, so I guess I’ll give it a whirl.

There was an incident earlier today. I saw something I’m pretty sure she wishes I’d never seen. And it… stung. I am man enough to admit that. It made me want to throw my fist through a wall. Or through a very particular face. But I didn’t do that. I went home and I thought about it. I pictured it again and again and again. Pictured all the things that must have happened… it was terrible. My friends asked me to come out with them and drink away my troubles. They could tell something was wrong. But I didn’t do that either. 

What I did do was think. I thought of her and her beautiful face. Her kind soul. I thought of that sweet smile, her cute clumsiness. I thought about how horrible it must have been for her… how violated he must have made her feel. How scared she must have been that I’d look at her differently, knowing what I now know. It wasn’t her fault after all. It wasn’t her choice.

I never want her to feel like that again. I want her to know that she doesn’t have to hide anything from me. I don’t care about her past or the complications of her life. I’ll love her through thick and thin.

Huh. Wow. I guess I should tell her that I love her…

Lying in her bed, Buffy closed the laptop on Riley’s first ever blog post, written last night. She thought about what she’d been doing last night as he’d come to the realization that he loved her. 

Her heart had sunk so low now that it was probably flopping around on the deck of the Titanic at this point.

She needed to find the biggest hole she could, crawl directly into it, and stay there. Forever.

Snuggling down deeper into her blankets, hugging her laptop, Buffy felt herself wanting to write a blog post of her own. She needed some… catharsis. She couldn’t do that, though. What if Riley finally found her blog? Eventually he was going to ask for her username again since she hadn’t emailed him the link like he’d so helpfully done for her.

“Oh! Sorry! Are you napping?” Willow asked, suddenly breezing into the room and setting her messenger bag full of books down on the floor.

“No. Just bemoaning my life. Where’ve you been? You don’t have classes this afternoon, but you’ve been gone for hours.”

“One to talk, aren’t we, missy?”

“I’ve been… busy,” Buffy grumbled indignantly.

Willow lifted her chin. “I… have been busy as well.”

“School stuff?”

“Yeah.” She looked away. “Mostly…” She cleared her throat. “So how’d it go with Riley?”

“Well. He thinks he loves me.”

“Thinks?”

Buffy sat upright and waved a hand around. “Obviously he wouldn’t if he had any clue what I’ve been doing with Spike!”

Willow sat down at the foot of Buffy’s bed. “You didn’t stay at your mom’s house last night, did you?”

“I did!” Her indignant eyebrows dropped. “For… like… an hour…”

“Oh, Buffy.”

Shaking her head, she said, “It’s all such a mess. Everything’s falling apart. That’s why I have to kill Spike.”

Willow’s expression popped with surprise. “Oh? So… You’re, uh, you’re just gonna kill him?”

“It’s kinda the only solution. Don’t you think?”

Contemplating it, Willow’s head wobbled from one side to the other. “I don’t not think so. But I thought you didn’t wanna slay him— now that he doesn’t kill people? Because it would be, like, I dunno, cruel?”

“For one thing, that was before I knew how much damage he could do without killing. For two things, neutered vampires are not in the slayer handbook so I am totally winging this. For three things, Spike has an excellent solution for that pesky chip problem.”

“Oh, he does, huh?”

“We take his chip out.” Buffy smiled and nodded for effect.

Willow hesitated. “We wha?”

“If we just get that stupid thing out of his brain then I don’t have to feel bad for killing him! Everything goes back to how it should be.”

“Sure. Yeah. But… wouldn’t you feel bad about all the potential people-eating that might result from that decision?”

Buffy shook her head. “He’s not gonna have the chance. The second that chip is out— the second he’s on his annoying Spike feet again, he is going down .”

Willow’s face was thoughtful. “Hm. Okay. And Spike suggested this?”

“Yeah! Trust me, we both know that what we’re doing is icky and we— we hate it! It’s just— it’s become like a compulsion or something. An addiction. Spike wants to fight me as badly as I wanna fight him.”

“Even though right now he really wants to… um…”

“Go ahead. You can say it. Fuck me. He wants to fuck me. See, we’re all grown ups now. Spike and I fuck. It’s been nothing but one fucking fuck after another with him.” Buffy frowned thoughtfully. “I should say ‘fuck’ more often. It’s fun, and it makes me feel better. Fuck. Fuck. Fuckedy fuck!”

“Okay!” Willow put her hands on Buffy’s knees and smiled unnaturally wide like she was dealing with a crazy person or something. “Now thatcha got that outta your system… Buffy, I gotta say… this ‘dechipping Spike’ plan? I-it sounds a little cuckoo to me.”

“More cuckoo than the nonstop sexathons?”

“Um… Well…” Frowning, she said, “I just think there’s a lot of risk. What if he’s tricking you somehow?”

Buffy shook her head fiercely. “He’s not. I can feel it, Will. He wants this as badly as I do. Nothing would satisfy me more right now than to drive a stake right through his heart and watch him poof— right outta my life. And he feels exactly the same way about me.”

Willow sighed. “I really hope you’re right about that.”

*****

There was a knock at the door a few hours later.

Willow got up from her bed and said, “Oh, that’s Xander. I told him he could use a swipe from my meal plan and come to dinner with us.”

“Cool,” Buffy said forlornly, still thinking about Riley as she read his blog post for the eight hundredth time. 

She heard the door open.

“You’re… not Xander,” Willow squeaked.

Buffy looked up and, to her great and absolute horror, saw Spike standing in the doorway. She jumped to her feet and marched over in a whirl of outrage. “Excuse me! Who the hell invited you here?”

Spike grinned. “‘S public property. I don’t need an invite.”

“It is so not public property! Willow, it is not public property, right?”

“I, uh… I…”

Spike grumbled under his breath, “As if I haven’t been here before— in your bloody be —”

“What the hell are you doing here, Spike?” Buffy snapped, hand on her hip.

“What the hell do you think? I’m here to work on our mission. No time like the present.”

Buffy scoffed and shook her head. “You are unbelievable. When it is time to work on our mission, I will inform you that it is time to work on our mission. You don’t just show up willy nilly whenever you feel like it!”

“That so? And who put you in charge?”

“Um, the smarty pants who does the choosing of chosen ones I guess?!”

Spike narrowed his eyes. “You don’t get to tell me what I do.”

“Yeah, actually… I do!” Buffy looked at Willow. “Right, Wil?”

Willow’s eyes darted from vampire to slayer and back. “I, uh… I…”

Spike pushed past them both and sauntered into the room.

Buffy’s mouth dropped open, appalled. “Hey!”

“Looks different with the lights on,” he said, looking around. His eyes caught on her computer screen. He leaned forward for a better look just as Buffy grabbed his arm and yanked him back.

“Get out of here, Spike! Now!”

“Whoa whoa whoa. Spike is here?” Xander greeted from the open doorway.

“Spike is not here,” Buffy said vehemently, gesturing toward the door. “He was just leaving!”

Spike rolled his eyes and sighed very dramatically. “Fine. I’ll go. Meet me in my crypt later, though.”

“No!”

Xander pointed from Spike to Buffy and looked at Willow. “What am I looking at here?”

Palms open, Willow uttered another, “I, uh… I…”

Stomping toward Buffy, Spike said, “Bloody hell, woman! Must you be so fucking difficult?”

She pushed him away, making him stumble. “Must you?!”

Spike straightened his spine and growled, “Outta bounds! I can’t push you back.”

Buffy smirked and folded her arms over her chest. “Aw. Poor baby. Is post-murder life just too hard and unfair for you?”

“We don’t just, like, hang out with Spike now… Right?” Xander asked uncertainly.

Willow shrugged with wide eyes and big hopeless hand gestures.

“Nope!” Buffy said smugly, grabbing Spike by the leather and dragging him forcibly to the door. “We most definitely do not hang out with Spike!”

“Yeah,” Spike said, snatching hold of the doorframe and leaning in. “Why hang out when you could shag him for six hours instead.”

Buffy gasped, punched him in the nose, and screamed, “Get! Out!”

Then she slammed the door shut, ignoring Spike’s cursing and grumbling in the hallway.

Breathing in and out, her hands on both cheeks, Buffy gradually turned to face her friends.

“You know,” Xander said very slowly. “I was pretty sure he was lying... until your very dramatic response indicated otherwise.”

Chapter 27

Xander shook his head. “I am desperately trying to process this—”

“Ooh! You should write a blog post!” Willow suggested.

Buffy countered firmly, “You should not write a blog post.”

Xander heaved a sigh amidst the chaotic clinking and clattering sounds of the cafeteria around them. “Buffy, I gotta say… it feels like you’ve been living a secret life. You know, in addition to the secret superhero life.”

“It wasn’t totally secret. I mean…” She looked across the table at Willow.

Xander turned and squinted at Willow beside him. “You knew? You’ve known? All this time?”

“I— well, I— I do live with her…” Willow took a guilty bite of her banana, chewing way too fast.

“Great. So it's just me who didn’t know. I’m just not in the club anymore.”

“Xander, no,” Buffy said. “You don’t understand. It’s not like that.”

“Maybe if I took Psychology classes like you two, I’d understand—”

Willow shook her head. “She didn’t wanna tell me! Buffy’s just a terrible liar—”

“I am! I tried to lie—”

“She did!”

“But it was a major fail.”

“A commendable lying effort,” Willow said supportively.

Buffy shrugged a little as she picked up her Diet Coke. “Plus, you know, Willow cast the spell. She started the rolling of this big scary ball down the big scary hill.” She took a sip.

Willow narrowed her eyes. “And exactly how many times must I be reminded of that?”

“I think eight thousand… and… thirty two… depending on the number of apology cookies.”

Xander poked at his chocolate pudding with his spoon. “I dunno, guys. Things lately just… It feels like… Didn’t we used to be…? Bah.”

“Used to be what?” Willow asked, putting her hand on Xander’s back, looking concerned.

Xander gave them both a vulnerable look. “I guess I just thought the three of us were tight. Like, the three musketeers or… Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The Sunnydale trio!”

Buffy and Willow exchanged guilty faces.

“Ever since you two moved in together and started ‘college life’ —” He paused for air quotes. “I don’t know, it just doesn’t feel the same anymore.”

“Aw, Xander—” Buffy began.

“No.” He put up a hand. “That’s what I was afraid of. Poor Xander, isn’t his ‘delivery tips and musty basement’ life so sad? But I don’t want that . I’m not looking for a party of pity. I just— I just wanna be the Ron to your Harry, you know? Ron would know if Harry was sleeping with a vampire and cheating on his boyfriend.”

Buffy frowned and looked around nervously.

“You’ve just… you’ve had this huge crisis going on, and I didn’t know anything about it. It kinda sucks. I want to be there for you.”

“Xander, I’m really really sorry,” Buffy said with all the genuineness in her body. “You are my Ron.”

“Good,” he said with a slight smile. “‘Cause I am no Hermione.” Willow smiled proudly when he looked at her.

“It’s just been kinda weird, you know,” Buffy went on. “You hated Angel— like, so much. And now along comes… Spike ! Angel’s blonder, eviler, more annoying relative. Sans soul!”

“Yeah…” Xander shuddered and made a “bluh” sound.

“I didn’t really expect you to understand.”

“So, you’re saying you understand it?”

Buffy’s brows went up. “Oh. No. I definitely do not.”

“So…”

“So, yeah, I’m a hypocrite. I get it. But…” She looked helplessly at Willow. “Well, there are just things that guys can’t understand sometimes about what women find attractive. Like, Willow at least gets the physical appeal of Spike because… because we are both into that hard dangerous masculine grrr kinda thing. Right, Wil?”

“Uhhh… yuh huh.” Willow suddenly found her mashed potatoes very interesting.

“I mean, vampires, werewolves, there’s a sort of connection there, you know?” Buffy went on.

Xander thought about it. “Do I have a grrr kinda thing?”

“Um…” Buffy hesitated. “Maybe ask Anya.”

“Yeah,” Willow said, scooping up mashed potatoes with her fork. “That is not a best friend question. That’s, like, a… girlfriend kinda question.”

“But, Wil, you and me used to—”

“Sure!” Willow yelped. “Uh huh. Yup. Okay. You totally have some… grr to you, Xander. What girl doesn’t want some grr? It’s… completely natural. It’s… biological. It’s… science.”

Buffy raised one brow. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Eyes on her tray of food, Willow nodded. “Cool as a cuc.” She looked up. “That’s short for… cucumber.”

Now Xander and Buffy were looking at each other dubiously. 

“Right,” said Buffy. “So anyway. Xander, now that you know my mortifying secret, maybe you have some ideas for how we could quickly de-chip Spike so that I can quickly de-life him.”

“Come again?”

With a sigh, Buffy said, “I will explain this again…”

*****

His face was so…

And her face was just… 

Ugh! Why was she even looking at this?!

Buffy smacked their ridiculous wedding picture face down on her desk, covering it instantly with three textbooks for classes she was seriously falling behind in. Spike really did ruin everything.

And Riley? He loved her. 

She’d really messed this up. She’d had a nice, normal, good thing going with Riley and she’d let a one time— okay, one night ( and the following morning)— dalliance with a demon ruin it all!

Buffy opened her laptop and stared blankly at the screen. There was a little bell in the top right corner of her LiveJournal page with a red bubble on it. She clicked on it instinctively.

Two new friend requests. She clicked on the first profile.

Tara! Willow’s new friend! Buffy instantly accepted.

Then she clicked on the next one.

Well, it wasn’t CarGuy79. Buffy shrugged and accepted the request. It was only polite. And she had no idea what ‘insipid’ meant.

Willow had locked down Buffy’s profile for her, so now she had to accept friends before anyone could read her over-sharing blog posts. She had considered deleting all her past entries, but part of her felt the need to document for herself the thought processes that had led her to this current state of insanity. If she was going to have a mental breakdown, she might as well leave herself some breadcrumbs to follow when she finally did get the urge to run away screaming.

It was hard to believe that just a few weeks ago, she’d been writing about Angel.

“Life is weird,” she muttered to herself as she closed the laptop and stood up.

Time to do the one part of life that still made sense, that she was still good at.

Buffy grabbed her jacket and her stake and headed for the cemetery.

*****

She’d only dusted one vamp by the time Spike predictably appeared, cigarette predictably in hand.

“You’re starting to act like a stalker, you know,” she informed him as she twirled her stake victoriously over the dust of her latest slayee.

Spike took a long inhale of his cigarette and shrugged. “I’ve never been much for waiting for what I want.”

Buffy felt her heart jolt and Riley’s words came crashing into her mind.

“Riley. Come on.”

“He wants you.”

She shook herself and tried to act confident despite the bizarre flipping and flopping going on inside her. “And what is it you want, Spike?”

His eyes narrowed. “Same thing as you.”

“World peace?”

Spike smiled like she was funny. “ Yeah, that’s it.”

She watched him pause thoughtfully, an inquisitive expression on his face, and slowly turn to his left. Then he walked over to a fresh gravesite where a hand had just burst through the earth. Spike yanked the fledgling up and out of the dirt.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you! Are you a vampire, too? I can’t believe this! I feel so incredible! I feel so alive! I’m really a v—”

Spike staked him through the heart, pocketed his stake, and looked at Buffy expectantly.

“That was cold,” she said. “You just casually kill your own kind now?”

“As casually as you do.”

Buffy crossed her arms and jutted one hip out. “You really are dumb. Do you actually think if you go around killing vampires and then get your chip out, that the Big Fang community is gonna welcome you back with evil loving arms?”

Spike ambled toward her, cigarette bobbing from his lips. “Not really how we— of the Big Fang community— work.”

“No?” She looked up at him, unintimidated.

He shook his head and tossed his cigarette. “Vampires respond to power, nothing more.” His eyes roamed over her in an icky predator-type way as his voice dropped and his words came out low and slow. “I come back better ‘n ever, havin’ just offed my third slayer—” A shiver traced Buffy’s spine and Spike’s brows went up like he knew exactly what he’d done to her. “ — and they’ll beg me to lead ‘em.”

Buffy attempted a snort. “That’s… some fantasy.”

“Gets me off, yeah.”

He was so gross .

“Not as good as you do, o’ course.” Spike brushed his knuckles down the length of her arm. “Nothin’ gets me off like you do, slayer.”

He was so sexy . He talked so sexy. It was awful.

Buffy stood there passively as he leaned in and brushed his cheek against hers, stroking her arm, his cool breath on her neck. He took a long deep smell of her hair and kissed her softly right below the earlobe, making her inhale sharply.

“You’re worse ‘n nicotine,” he breathed.

Buffy pushed him away, but without much force. “I have work to do, Spike.”

“Why do you think I’m helping?”

The lightbulb finally lit. “You’re here to help me slay?”

He shrugged one shoulder.

“Because…” She squinted at him. “You wanna have sex?”

“Well, yeah. Don’t you?”

“What about our awesome ‘de-chip you, fight to the death’ plan?”

Spike said with a smile, “My evening’s cleared for all sortsa activities.” He walked backward toward a tree. “And as you can see, I am an excellent multitasker!” Reaching behind the trunk he snatched a lurking vampire and dusted her on the spot. “What do you say, slayer?”

“I say you’re insane. But… the more dusty vamps, the better.”

*****

They’d been patrolling for an hour. And Buffy had to admit— silently and only to herself— that it was kind of nice to have the company, even if it was annoying company. They were slaying a lot of demons and the time seemed to fly as fast as their fists and verbal barbs.

“How’d your boy toy take it?” Spike said as he whaled on another vampire, probably for fun. His opponent didn’t look like he was putting up much of a fight.

Buffy fought her own vampire, who was at least hitting back a little. “Take what?”

“The news that his most beloved made vows to one of his bloody science experiments!”

“They’re not his experiments!” Buffy shouted as she smashed her not-Spike enemy in the nose. “And he… took it really great actually! He told me—”

“He loves you,” Spike finished for her as he swung his sad nemesis to the ground. 

“How did you know that?”

“I just know his type. The desperate wet blanket type. Wankers who’ll say anything to cling to a shred of glory, even if it’s someone else’s glory.”

Buffy stopped and looked at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’ve been dating that nit for, what, a month? And he loves you already? That sod don’t know a bloody thing about you. It’s ridiculous.”

“I’m very— oof! — lovable!” she declared as she tackled her opponent to the ground and punched him in the jaw.

Spike cackled hysterically and remarked with way too much sarcasm, “Oh, yeah. Look at you. Isn’t it every man’s fantasy to be with a woman who can bash his bleeding face in?”

“Shut up!” The vampire beneath her looked up at her warily, anticipating the next face bash no doubt. She took the stake from her waistband and dusted him before he could say something disconcerting. “What would you know about love?”

“Oh, I dunno,” Spike said, shoving his beaten-down enemy toward her like he was just so bored by it all. He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I only loved the same woman for a hundred bloody years— devoted my all ‘n everything to her without askin’ for a damned thing in return. That’s what I know ‘bout love.”

Buffy kicked the vampire in front of her in the chest. “Doesn’t count! She was crazy and— and so are you!”

“Doesn’t count?!” Spike scoffed indignantly. “You’re the one who knows sod all about love! I had to teach you what real shagging even was! Love’s a bit more complicated ‘n that.”

The vampire they were fighting stopped and looked from Spike to Buffy dubiously. “You two…?”

Annoyed, Buffy threw her stake just right to pierce him in the heart and watch him dust.

She marched over to Spike. “That is completely untrue! You’re a pig, Spike. And—”

“And you wouldn’t know love if it smacked you in your pretty little face.” He cupped her cheeks, but she angrily broke his hold with her forearms. His hands quickly darted to her wrists and held them still against her hips. “You know violence. I’ll give you that. You think that little boy you’re with can handle all this fight in you? Think he can love it?”

“Why the hell do you care so much about Riley? You seem awful interested in who I date.”

“Hm. Reckon I’m just amused by your pathetic delusions. Seein’ as, here you are again, back in my arms.”

Nothing he said could have made her shove him away faster.

He laughed as he regained his footing. “So, what’ll it be, pet? My place or yours?”

Buffy glared at him. “I’ll meet you in the sewer .” Brightly, she added, “Why don’t you go there and wait for me?”

Eyes rolling, Spike said, “Back to the act are we?”

“I’m going home.”

“Your place it is.”

“Alone!”

“Right.”

“I’m serious, Spike! God, what is wrong with you?! I’m not your call girl!”

Spike looked angry now as she turned to go and he chased after her. “Oi! I helped you tonight!”

“I didn’t need your help!” she shouted into the void.

“Yeah well…” He floundered for a response to that. “You’re supposed to help me . Said you would.”

“With the chip. And with your death. I am not supposed to help you get off every chance we get!”

“You are absolutely insufferable, slayer. Actin’ like you don’t want me. The depths of your denial are bloody unfathomable.”

He seemed actually angry! This was fun.

Buffy shrugged and walked with a flippant determination. “Well, maybe I don’t want you. I have a boyfriend who loves me. A boyfriend who—”

“You’re cheating on.”

Okay. Point to Spike. Damn.

“Maybe I just need to do a better job teaching him what I like in bed. Problem solved.”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Good bleeding luck with that. You could write that pillock a hundred page Buffy-shagging instruction booklet and he’d still be askin’ where exactly that bloody clit bit is.”

“Oh, so did you wanna help out? I’ve never had two guys at once, but I’ve been learning all sorts of things about what I like lately, and you can write the manual apparently so—”

“Stuff it, slayer. Captain Cardboard would cry if he saw the kinda things you and I do to each other. No manual can teach that.” 

“Uh huh. Bye, Spike.”

He let out an audible grunt of disappointment. “Fine! We only talk about the plan. Shagging’s off the table.”

Buffy stopped walking and looked him in the eyes— always a very dangerous endeavor. “You promise?”

Eyes narrowing like he was trying to suss out her game, he said in a tone she didn’t fully trust, “Cross my heart.”

“Hope to die?” She grinned.

Spike bit his tongue, but a smile was in his eyes. “There are worse things than death.”

“Mmm…” Buffy’s brow furrowed and she didn’t protest when he started walking beside her. “Not really.”

His eyes sparkled and she detested that glimmer of arrogant knowingness he always seemed to have. “Comments like that, sweet slayer, are why I’m positive you don’t know a bloody thing about love.”

Chapter 28

“This is bloody ridiculous.”

“Shut up .” 

Buffy banged harshly on Giles’ front door and called out, “Giiiiles!”

“It’s after nine,” Spike said. “He’s probably in his beddy bye by now. Middle age is a bitch.”

“How the hell would you know?” she snapped.

Spike shrugged and looked around innocently.

Buffy sighed and was about to give up when Giles finally did open the door, wearing blue and white striped pajama bottoms and a burgundy bathrobe.

“Good!” Buffy greeted. “You’re awake!

“Hello, Buffy.” His eyes settled on Spike with a chilling glare. “What is he doing here?”

Buffy glanced at Spike, who could seriously tone down the sinister smirking thing his face seemed to consistently default to. “I, uh— we— Spike and I— we need a place to work.”

“Pardon?” Giles put his glasses on and squinted at her.

“Me and Spike. We…” She lowered her voice to a stage whisper. “Well, I can’t bring him to my dorm! That wouldn’t be… safe. For anyone.”

“Least of all yourself,” Spike murmured with a leer.

Buffy elbowed him in the side. “Giles, please!”

Shaking his head and muttering something about his fruitless years of training, Giles opened the door and gestured them both in. 

“Were you in bed?” Buffy asked as she sat down on the sofa. 

Spike sat down, too. Close beside her. Too close. Buffy scooted away a bit.

“No, of course not.” Giles yawned sleepily as Spike scooted closer to Buffy again. “It’s only, uh…” Giles checked the time on his wall clock. “Eleven o’clock. I— well, perhaps I had laid down.”

Buffy glared at Spike as she cuddled up against the sofa’s armrest to create space between them. “It’s really okay, Giles. You’re not the one expected to keep undead hours.”

“And, er, undead company?”

Spike grinned. “Only the best undead company.”

“Mm,” Giles responded noncommittally. 

“Haven’t you heard we’re partners now?”

“In fact, I hadn’t.”

“Of course you hadn’t!” Buffy interrupted. “Because of course we are— not .” Her eyes bulged in Spike’s direction. “We are only working together for an extremely brief period of time in order to accomplish a common goal. Simple. No big deal. Just like that other time with Angelus and— what not. A temporary alliance. For the greater good.”

Giles sat down in the armchair, frowning. “Greater good, common goal? Buffy, whatever threat this is that’s so grave you’re willing to work with Spike is— well, why didn’t you come to me right away? I know you don’t, um, need me like you used to need me, but good research is always helpful. Willow doesn’t know all the—”

“Watcher boy sounds a bit insecure if you ask me,” Spike said to Buffy, as though Giles weren’t even there.

“Did you just call me ‘boy ?’” Giles asked, leaning forward with his outrage.

“I’m older ‘n you. By a hell of a lot.”

Buffy waved her hands in the air. “You don’t understand! There’s no big bad. Okay, well, there is. But… it’s Spike.” Giles stared at her inquisitively. “Or it’s me,” Buffy added with a nervous laugh. “Depending on your perspective.”

“I’m going to need some clarification.”

Spike sighed heavily and leaned back against the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. “Tell me we did not come here to have a chat with your bloody watcher.”

“Just shut up!” Buffy growled. Turning to Giles, she plastered a smile on her face. “We have an arrangement. After the, um, unfortunate and traumatizing Vegas incident, things have become… even more complicated and, um, traumatizing, so—” Giles looked like he might heave. “ —we came to an agreement.” She glanced at Spike, who was smiling in that faux-innocent-mostly-evil way of his. “We can’t really coexist in this town— universe, actually. So , we’re gonna fight.” She explained it matter-of-factly with a shrug of her shoulders. “Good old traditional vamp versus slayer kinda dealio. But see, Spike can’t fight ‘cause of the chip, and I can’t fight ‘cause of my pesky conscience and stuff, so…” Buffy clapped her hands together nervously. “We are going to restore Spike’s head to its original chipless state and settle this like proper… enemies… do.” She ended her speech with a high perky voice and a nod of her head.

Giles had only blinks in response.

“Don’t tell me it’s a stupid plan, okay? You don’t know what it’s been like.”

“I… should turn in,” he said.

“Huh?” Buffy replied. “What? Giles? I need your help!”

He looked skeptical at that. “I thought… surely the world must be ending. However, it seems…” Giles’ face waffled through many expressions. “All in all, I’m rather speechless.”

“Good,” Spike interjected. “Just tell us what you know ‘bout these commandos, any security codes you might’ve sussed out, and whos’ in charge o’ surgeries, and you can toddle on off to bed.”

Giles gave him an icy glare. “I only recently learned that her boyfriend —” He hung on that word for a weighted beat. “Works for the Initiative, so I know nothing Buffy doesn’t already know. I will go back to bed now. And, Spike.” He paused dramatically. “If you manipulate her or harm her in any way, you will rue the day.”

“That a threat, watcher?” Spike sounded semi-impressed.

“A promise,” he said calmly, eyes remaining fixed on Spike. To Buffy he said, “Be careful, Buffy.”

Completely aghast, Buffy watched Giles trod up the stairs in his bathrobe.

“Great,” Buffy said. “Now Giles thinks I’m crazy, too.”

“And we’re alone,” Spike noted. “How quiet you think you could be if we…?” He lifted his brows suggestively.

She looked at him indignantly before shaking her head and muttering, “Not very.”

“Suspected as much.” With a sigh, he uttered sarcastically, “ So glad we came.”

*****

An hour later, Buffy could feel the pout on her face threatening to overtake her entire identity. “This is hopeless.”

“Didn’t I tell you comin’ here would be—”

Buffy batted her hands in the air like she could physically wave away his vocal cords. “It’s hopeless because the only way we’re getting into that place is if we have a guy on the inside and the only guy on the inside we know is Riley, and we are in no position to ask Riley for anything!”

Spike was sprawled out obnoxiously in one of Giles’ chairs, staring at the ceiling. He moved his gaze to her. “You can’t just suck him off and then ask?”

She put her hands to her temples and closed her eyes. “I don’t know why I even talk to you. I don’t know why I thought involving you in the planning process was a good idea at all!” Buffy shot to her feet. “I’m going back to my dorm. So that I can lay in bed not sleeping while I think about all this and lose my mind!”

He stood as well and meandered into Giles’ kitchen. “Bloody hell, slayer. You really need to calm your tits.”

Fists clenching, she glared at him and thought about responding, but turned and stomped toward the door instead. At the sound of him rummaging through Giles’ cabinets, though, she reconsidered. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Aha!” Spike triumphantly held up a liquor bottle of some sort.

“ No .”

“Yes.”

“I am not— we are not— no!” She groaned as she marched toward him to snatch away the bottle. Buffy yelled in clipped, angry syllables, “This does not belong to you!”

Spike looked the most annoyed he’d looked all night as she put the bottle away. “I sat here for hours listening to you bitch and moan, slayer. I deserve a little compensation.” 

“How ‘bout I buy you an ice cream? Would you like that, Spikey?”

He rolled his eyes.

“What? If you’re gonna act like a six-year-old, then who am I to—”

“Let’s go.” Spike gripped her arm, practically dragging her to the door.

“Where are we—?” He threw the door open and, stepping out with him, the fresh night air was such a relief it silenced her. “Oh. It’s nice out here.”

He grinned, shutting the door behind them as she breathed it in. “You really are a creature of the darkness, aren’t you, pet?”

“My overwhelming shame for my life choices is definitely easier to bear at midnight with nobody but you around.” She gave him a cynical smile.

Spike smiled back. “Come along, slayer. I have an idea.”

“I am not having sex with you, Spike. You promised tonight—”

“That’s not it. Not this time.”

Buffy sighed. “Can I go back to my dorm afterward? Will you just leave me alone and stop saying disgusting things?”

“I can promise… some of that.”

She laughed abruptly. Like she was punch-drunk or something. He looked surprised, but not displeased. 

“Fine. Lead the way, Spike .”

*****

That was how she wound up in Willy’s bar at midnight on a Tuesday.

As Spike ordered them both some drinks, Buffy stared around through the dim lighting at all the demon types who were drinking merrily together in somewhat surprising harmony. She’d never thought about it really, but reflecting back on her bizarre wedding night at the casino, there had been demons of all types then, too. Her and her humanness were the glaringly wrong ingredients in this fascinating melting pot recipe. 

Spike handed her something cold and she took it without asking what it was, giving it a quick sip.

Damn. It was actually very delicious. Fruity. Had Spike learned her drink tastes? How had he—

“All right. We do things my way now,” Spike was saying. 

“Huh?”

“This crowd knows far more about our demented soldier friends than your bloody watcher ever will. These guys’ve been watching their mates get nabbed for months. Someone’s bound to know something. We just gotta get ‘em to talk.”

Buffy felt her brow furrowing as she stared at him, shocked. “That actually makes sense.”

“You don’t live this long bein’ stupid, slayer.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Yeah, well, you haven’t really lived that long, have you?”

Buffy kicked him in the shin, and Spike grimaced while laughing. “Best get it out your system now, pet. Force ain’t gonna work on these blokes.”

“Force is pretty much how I roll.”

“I’ve noticed and appreciate that,” he said with a smirk. “Just play along and let me do the talkin’.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Right. ‘Cause how could that go wrong?”

Spike kissed her abruptly on the lips, which she was so not prepared for. She needed to be prepared for that! His kisses were too kissy and explosive to not have some sort of countdown or hand signal first.

Pulling back, he had that sort of flickery devilishness in his eyes that she found equally attractive and annoying. “Now now, sweetheart. Be a good girl and play… along .”

This might be a challenge.

******

Hand on her lower back, Spike ushered Buffy toward a round and tattered booth in the back corner.

“Hey, Spike!” greeted a demon with an interesting mixture of chartreuse and knobby scarlet skin. “Long time no see, pal. Heard about what happened to you.” He offered Spike a sad shake of his head. 

“Yeah,” said another with sympathetic eyes and many many layers of skin. “Kinda thought after what happened and us not seein’ you around so much, you might’ve just offed yourself.”

“It’d be very understandable,” the first demon agreed.

Spike gave his weird friends a tight smile. “Appreciate the concern, but no. In fact, I’ve been reborn, fellas. You’re looking at a married man.”

Oh, for the love. Buffy had to look away to keep from hitting him.

“Wow! Congratulations, man!” 

“Thanks, Clem,” Spike said very sincerely to the floppy-eared skin guy. He shook hands with the chartreusey demon as well. “Steve.” Steve?! Spike smiled at Buffy, gesturing toward her like a highly sexist Vanna White. “She’s a real beaut, eh?”

Buffy felt her blood boil as they all seemed to notice her for the first time, eyes raking over her from head to toe. 

“I thought it was gonna be Drusilla,” muttered Steve.

“Or that other blonde who clapped her hands a lot.”

“She was nice. Smelled nice.”

“Chatty, though.”

“ Very chatty.”

Spike cleared his throat and shoved his way into the booth, dragging Buffy along behind him by the hand. “ This… is Buffy.”

Both Steve and Clem froze, Clem’s drink hovering just in front of his lips as he regained his composure.

Spike nudged her. “Say hi, Buffy.”

“ … hi .”

“Buffy… slayer Buffy?” Steve asked as Clem set down his drink without drinking it.

“The one ‘n only,” Spike said with a prideful grin, flinging an arm over her shoulders. “Turns out the only bloke who could keep up with a vampire slayer is a vampire himself. Poetic, innit?”

Clem and Steve exchanged a look that seemed to say this was something , but poetic might not have been their word of choice.

“Well, uh, good for you, man,” said Clem with an agreeable nod. “And Buffy, it’s real nice to meet you. I’ve… heard a lot of things. A lot of things… You’re, um, off duty now, right?”

“I couldn’t be more off duty if I tried.”

“Great.”

“So you married Spike,” Steve said with a chuckle. “Existential crisis, or…?”

Buffy cocked her head. “Actually, I was under a spell and had zero control over—”

“There’s no explaining the great mystery of love, is there?” Spike interrupted, nudging her knee sharply with his own beneath the table. “Feels a bit like magic sometimes. It just sort of takes you over.” His eyes met Buffy’s. “Consumes all your senses. And suddenly there’s no goin’ back to whoever it is you were before. You’re a new man now. And everything is… new again.”

Okay he was selling this perhaps a little too well.

“Anyway!” Buffy said, anxiously tearing her attention away from him. “Tell me, um, about you guys. Any… encounters with, like, military-ish… guys? Lately…?”

When she looked back at Spike, he looked annoyed and whispered under his breath, “Subtle.”

Clem heaved a huge sigh. “Oh, yeah. The nabbers. It’s been awful. I had to cancel karaoke night because the nabbers picked up on all the demonic energy I guess when we got together every Tuesday. They just kept raiding the place every week! It really sucked because we’d worked hard on our Bohemian Rhapsody duet. There were moves and everything.” 

“Bummer,” Buffy said, a little mystified. “So, um, nobody was trying to kill or steal or hurt anyone?”

“Nah.” Clem waved a hand like that was ridiculous. “Murder tends to start a party on the wrong note in my experience.”

“Sure,” she agreed.

Steve chimed in. “But we’ve gotta blow off steam somehow. We’re not exactly welcome at the Sunnydale gym or the movie theater or the parks or stores or… anywhere really.”

“True that, my friend,” Clem agreed.

Buffy took a sip of her drink. She felt uneasy suddenly. An inexplicable seed of guilt was growing in the pit of her stomach. She looked at Spike, whose eyes flickered with some sort of understanding, though what he understood she wasn’t sure.

“Well, as you both know,” Spike said, leaning in all conspiratorially. “These nabbers— or evil sodding wankers as I like to call ‘em— did a hell of a lot more to me than crash my party.”

“Of course, Spike,” said Clem, raising his hands innocently. “We would never trivialize the trauma you’ve been through!”

“So Buffy and I are gonna take ‘em down,” Spike said decisively.

Buffy felt a jolt of no , but it dissipated fairly quickly. Surely the Initiative was accomplishing a lot of good, even if they were maybe overstepping a few boundaries as well. After all, who could anticipate that a group of demons were getting together just to sing songs and practice their dance choreography? 

If anyone knew how difficult it was to draw boundaries and get the lines just right, it was Buffy.

“Really?!” Steve said excitedly. “That’s awesome, dude. The slayer’s on our side now! Yes!”

“No!” Buffy reacted instinctively.

Spike glared at her very exasperatedly.

“I mean,” she fumbled. “I— um— I… just keep it down, okay? This is, kind of like a secret mission?”

Clem and Steve nodded their understanding and looked pretty giddy about their involvement in Spike and the slayer’s secret mission. 

“Right on,” Steve said supportively. “That makes the most sense.”

Clem asked then, “So how can we help? I hope it’s not fighting. I’m not really the best at fighting.”

Spike patted Clem on the back. “Not at all, mate. We’re information gathering at this point. Gotta figure out how to infiltrate their lair. It’s underground, I know. When I escaped, I was a bit distracted by all the guards I was takin’ out along the way. Me against their whole army, you know? It’s a bit of a blur.”

“How’d you fight those guys, though?” Steve asked. “With your handicap and all?”

“I, uh…” Spike’s brow furrowed like he’d never thought of that. “I dunno. But I did!” he said firmly, pointing his finger into the table. “They must’ve activated the chip after I left or somethin’. Anyway. I came up near the college, but I haven’t been able to find that door again. Like they covered it all up. There’s gotta be another way in, though.”

“Okay, so…” Steve said, leaning in and lowering his voice. “I know a guy who… let’s call him Joe. Joe had a hell of a bad night at the poker table— you weren’t there, Spike, or maybe none of this would’ve ever happened! But he owed my pal Sammy so many kittens—”

“Oh, not kittens again,” Buffy grumbled.

“Hush, kitten ,” Spike said, kissing her cheek and smiling in a shut-up-you’re-gonna-ruin-it kind of way.

Steve carried on. “And my friends and I, we’re pretty sure that Joe turned Sammy in to the nabbers so he wouldn’t have to pay up. Turns out, for the last few weeks, anyone who’s gotten on Joe’s bad side, has vanished.”

“Like maybe right into an Initiative prison cell,” Spike murmured.

“Initiative?” Clem said.

Spike batted a hand. “Where’s this Joe tosser? I don’t know him.”

“Not sure. We’re all keeping pretty clear of him, you know? But I think he had a warehouse down by the docks.”

“I just can’t believe he’d turn on his own kind like that,” Steve said with a tone of disappointment. “It’s a betrayal to our community. Our whole way of life! It’s hard enough to be a demon in this world made for humans. But to know you can’t even rely on your own kind to have your back?”

“It’s a real shame,” Clem agreed.

Spike grunted noncommittally. His finger was tapping the table like his brain was doing a lot. It occurred to Buffy that, in a way, Spike had done just that recently, helping her patrol and slaying vampires with her.

Buffy put her hand on his forearm and Spike’s finger paused as he looked at her with surprise. 

“I’m getting kind of tired, babe,” Buffy said. “Maybe we should get out of here.”

His eyes narrowed, like he was trying to determine her true goal here. “Of course, darling.”

“Can I just say?” Clem began. “I get a really good vibe from you two as a couple. I think this is gonna work out. And, Buffy, it’s really great to have you on our side. It’s awesome to meet a slayer who really listens and tries to see another perspective in this whole good versus evil narrative .”

Clem extended a hand and Buffy hesitated only for a second before shaking it. “Thanks…”

“If you’ll excuse us,” Spike said politely. “See you later, boys.”

*****

Outside in the alleyway, Buffy let out an enormous breath and ran her hands through her hair. 

“That was… so not what I expected,” she said.

Spike was lighting up a cigarette, but he nodded.

Buffy carried on. “I’ve just never met demons like that. I didn’t know demons like that existed.”

Spike was quiet.

“And what’s with the ongoing kitten obsession? That’s very weird currency!”

Spike kind of nodded again, taking a long drag as he did. He looked distracted.

“Karaoke night? And…” She sighed. “You know, I just don’t think The Initiative would— I mean Riley definitely wouldn’t— if they just understood—”

“Riley, Riley, Riley,” Spike grumbled. “You’ll even defend that wicked place in his name.”

Shaking her head, Buffy said, “You don’t know him. He’s a good—”

“Man?” Spike said, tossing his just-lit cigarette and stepping in close. He cupped the back of Buffy’s head and kissed her without warning. It was a… really good kiss. A knee unbuckling kinda kiss. He pulled back. “Riley’s a good man? That what you were ‘bout to say? You think that cowardly boy is a man? A good one?”

Buffy stepped back a little. “What’s your damage, Spike? You’re acting really weird. Even for you.”

He stepped forward, closing the distance again.

Buffy stepped back. “Stop,” she said like she was bored of this game they always played. 

Spike looked at her, head shaking, mouth smiling just a little. “You better head home, pet. Your man’s waiting.”

It was like two in the morning. Riley was most definitely not waiting for her. But Buffy didn’t say that. She was too busy being surprised that Spike wasn’t inviting her back to his crypt for a quick shag that wouldn’t turn out to be very quick at all.

“Okay. Um… I guess I’ll find you later. To talk about the… the plan again.”

Spike stuffed his hands into his coat pockets. “Right. Yeah.”

Buffy stared at him briefly and then turned to go. After a few steps, though—

“Slayer.”

There was always something.

She looked back. Face guarded, he crooked a finger, very come hither. Which she opposed on principle.

But her feet lacked her principles, and came thither without protest. Spike grinned and tucked some hair behind her ear when she stood before him again. 

“What is it?” she asked, intending to sound sassy but kind of failing.

Spike’s grin grew and he stared at her for a moment. Finally, he said, “Nothing, pet.”

She was all sorts of confused by him tonight. Rolling her eyes at his amused expression, she turned away again, feeling the enormous weight of his gaze on her back with every determined step she took.

Chapter 29

Dear bloggy blog…

Ahem.

I’m having one of those moments. One of those big old “is my life what I really thought it was?” kind of moments. I’ve just been… rethinking a lot of things. 

Back in high school, it all seemed pretty simple. There was bad. There was good. Down with the bad! Go, good! It was all really clear. But lately it’s like everything’s been turned on its head. Violently. I mean, my best friend got dumped by her boyfriend who was definitely by all accounts a very good guy!— that is, until he wasn’t. Or maybe he still is? I don’t know anymore! Sometimes even demons  (metaphorical demons of course!) turn out to be kind of nice and friendlyish, with hobbies and dreams of their own. And look at me! I thought I was good. But I’ve been a jerk lately. I’ve treated my very good boyfriend like absolute crap. I’ve kept secrets from my friends and shirked my responsibilities in loads of shirky ways. I’m probably failing all my classes. And to top it all off, I’m plotting the stupidest plot I’ve ever plotted with this maniac who I can’t seem to stop spending my time with.

And I’m ashamed to tell anyone about all this. I think a year ago, my friends thought I was… a real hero. Or resembled one at least. Lately… well, let’s just say they definitely don’t think that anymore. I don’t think that anymore. Why should they?

Sometimes I think I should just move back to LA and start over.

i don’t really know what most of this is about, but i do know your friends love you no matter how many mistakes you think you’ve made…

I love you SO MUCH, roomie!!! Let’s get coffee later and chat!

you’re always a hero to me

Don’t move to LA

 

Buffy read all the comments on her blog post, her heart heavy. It had been hard to be so honest, not even just because everyone was going to read this, but because it had been so hard to be that honest with herself. But at the same time she felt like she hadn’t been honest enough.

It was difficult to be truthful when she didn’t even understand herself.

There was one thing she knew for sure, though. And she was going to take care of that today.

*****

Riley had arrived at the Espresso Pump before her. Naturally, he’d already ordered Buffy a mocha and it was waiting with him at the table where Riley sat, looking calm and happy to see her in his boyfriendly plaid shirt.

Her stomach flipped. She hadn’t seem in days, and his “I love you” confession seemed to hover in the air between them like a ghost.

“Hey.”

“Hey. I’m glad you called.”

They greeted each other with a quick kiss and then sat down. Buffy picked up her coffee and said, “Thanks. You shouldn’t have.”

“Well, I know what you like,” Riley said with a proud grin that made her feel even worse.

“Mm,” she replied noncommittally, wishing he were right about that. She took a sip of the steaming coffee. “It is good.”

“Good. So what did you think about Professor Walsh’s lecture on defense mechanisms the other day?” 

Buffy stared at him for a moment, her brows knitting together. “Huh?”

“You know…” His eyes got a far off look to them as he recalled, “Denial, compartmentalization, regression, rationalization, humor, avoidance, fantasy… I mean, there’s so many. I’m missing a bunch. But I found it all pretty fascinating.”

“Was I… there that day?” Buffy asked hesitantly. “Because, you know, sometimes I’m busy… saving the world and… stuff.”

Looking surprised, Riley took a drink of his coffee and said, “Well, yeah . You were definitely there. You don’t remember?”

“Maybe you could refresh me. Perks of dating the TA.”

He laughed. “Well, they’re basically just different ways people protect themselves from anxious feelings.”

Buffy sipped her drink and thought about her many anxious feelings lately and her tendency to joke, deny, rationalize, deny, compartmentalize, deny… “Is it bad? Are you not supposed to laugh in the face of doom and despair? Because as one who has faced many an apocalypse, I might beg to differ.”

“No. It’s… it’s normal to do these things. Helpful even. I mean, it can be unhealthy, of course. Anything can, taken to an extreme. Especially if there’s something important you’re not dealing with. It’s just that—”

“Riley, I have to tell you something.” She looked down and clutched her paper cup, letting it warm her hands through the cardboard.

He set down his coffee and reached across the table, putting a hand on her forearm. “I kinda had a feeling.”

Meeting his eyes, Buffy said, “You did?”

“Well, after last time we talked, I figured you’ve been busy, um… thinking.”

She’d been busy all right. 

“Like I said,” Riley said, “I don’t expect anything in return. I know it’s a little crazy to profess your love for someone so quickly. I’m normally a more slow and steady kind of guy, but you just do things to me, Buffy. You make me want to take risks and look at things in new—”

“Riley, please. Please, just stop.” She exhaled hard. Her heart was thudding mercilessly inside her. 

Riley looked confused, but he was astute enough to say nothing and wait for her.

Buffy swallowed. The words were all tangled in her throat, but she forced them out anyway. “I think we have to break up.”

“What?” he breathed.

“Please don’t make me say it again,” she uttered in a small voice.

Riley stared at her, obviously bewildered. “I— I don’t understand. Is this my fault? For telling you I love you? Did it feel like pressure to—”

“No.” She shook her head and then took a slow sip of her coffee, feeling tears threatening her eyeballs. She sniffled and blinked them away resolutely. “No. It wasn’t that. I mean, I guess it did help with some perspective. I, um… God, this is hard to say. But I can’t be so avoidy anymore. I— I don’t want to do that to you, Riley. You are a good person.” Her voice trembled and tripped over the G-word. “And I don’t deserve you, and I definitely don’t deserve your love.”

“Buffy.” He moved her distraction drink to the side and reached for her hands, demanding her attention. “I don’t know what it is about your past that has you so down on yourself, but you are wrong. You deserve the world, Buffy. You’re more than a good person, you’re—”

“Stop!” she said a little sharply, instantly regretting it when he looked so hurt. “I mean… please stop. You just— you don’t understand, Riley. It’s not my past that makes me say this stuff. It’s… my present.”

Riley stared at her, his brow furrowed and his eyes searching hers for a clue, for a hope, for anything. “I really do love—”

“I slept with Spike.” She watched his eyes widen. She closed hers. “I am sleeping with Spike.”

Buffy felt his warm, solid hands leave hers. They lay there limp on the table, reaching and empty. 

She forced her eyes open.

“That spell…” Riley murmured. “You… you said…”

“What I told you was true. I— I didn’t want it to happen. I had no control. I would never marry anyone in Las Vegas like that, let alone… Spike !” she spat his name out with a wounded kind of fury. “But then…” Okay, she couldn’t control the tears anymore. “But then we kind of… kept… seeing each other.”

“While we were…?”

Buffy nodded, feeling sick with shame. “I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry that I’m not the person you thought I was.”

People around them were beginning to stare at this obvious outpouring of repressed emotion. Riley was glancing at them uncomfortably. He stood up, his face stony. “Come on.”

She looked up at him incredulously, wiping her cheeks. “Kind of in the middle of something here, Ri—”

“Yeah, I noticed. But I’d rather talk about you cheating on me outside. If you don’t mind.”

Stricken by his sudden coldness, Buffy nodded and, self-consciously, looked around at all the eavesdroppers who all seemed very focused on their coffees at the moment.

She followed Riley outside into the warm afternoon light. He walked resolutely down the sidewalk and she wasn’t sure exactly where he was going but she figured she owed it to him to follow. 

Riley turned the corner, heading into an alleyway where Buffy had often slain vampires when it wasn't midday like it was now. 

Stopping, he crossed his arms and he looked down at her. “I thought by the time we got here, I’d know what to say to you.”

Buffy grimaced and folded her arms over her chest uncomfortably. “You did nothing wrong. This is… completely a ‘me’ thing.”

“I know,” he said. “I guess I’m just surprised how… wrong I was about you.”

Feeling the tears shoot down her cheeks, Buffy nodded and wiped beneath her eyes. “Yeah. Me too.”

He was starting to look a little more flustered now, his normal calm demeanor slipping away. “I mean… with a Hostile and everything? Why?”

“That’s a very good question,” Buffy murmured.

“It’s a real question,” he responded firmly. “And it deserves a real answer. Why him?”

She stared at Riley, her brain desperately grasping for a rational, honest explanation that would satiate him. How could she answer this question for him when she had no idea herself?

“ Why , Buffy?”

“I— I don’t—”

“Don’t say you don’t know. You can’t have— I mean, why would you—? There must be some reason. It just doesn’t make any sense.”

“I know,” she agreed, face twisting with guilt. “You’re completely right.”

Riley took a deep breath and exhaled hard. “Do you love him? Are there… feelings?”

“No! I mean, I don’t love him. Of course not. How could I… love him? I want to kill him! In fact, I plan to kill him. For doing this to me. To you, to us. For making me like this. And for being an evil murdering vampire, too, of course.”

“You’re gonna kill him?” Riley said, looking utterly baffled now.

“Yeah!” She nodded definitively, wiping her wet cheeks again. “I’m… working on it.”

He looked lost. Her perfect, handsome boyfriend— ex -boyfriend— who bought her mochas and Diet Cokes. He looked utterly lost.

“Um, speaking of killing Spike…” Buffy said. “This might be a really terrible time to ask but also you may never want to speak to me again— which would be totally understandable— but it means I kind of have to ask you now.” The next words tumbled out of her mouth hastily, “Could you, uh, possibly help me break into the Initiative so I can get that chip out of his head and slay him properly?”

 Riley blinked. “What?”

“It’s just… morally, I can’t do it if he can’t defend himself. It would be, like, inhumane.”

“He isn’t a human .”

“I know that, but—”

“Jesus, Buffy. What is wrong with you?”

Buffy felt her heart crack and shatter then. She never thought Riley would look at her the way he was currently looking at her. She never thought she would wind up being such a disappointment to him or to anyone for that matter. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, struggling to stay composed. “I shouldn’t’ve asked. I shouldn’t’ve…” Her throat was a knot as she looked up into the bright sun until she had to close her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ll just— I’ll just go.”

So she did. 

And he didn’t stop her.

*****

As soon as Willow had found out about the breakup, she’d begun baking a fresh supply of her “feel better, it’ll be okay” chocolate chip cookies. 

Buffy was pretty sure there was a tupperware container somewhere still full of “I really fucked up this time” cookies, but Willow liked to get busy when there was a crisis and it was definitely better for her to get busy with flour and sugar rather than a spellbook and eye of newt.

“It’s men ,” Buffy announced dramatically as she flopped onto the common room sofa in between Willow and her friend, Tara. “They are the source of all my problems. They always are! I need to just swear them off completely. Once and for all!”

Willow snorted a bit and handed Buffy a cookie. “Preach it, sister.”

“Or maybe it’s just vampires I should stop sleeping with… That’s when things always go really bad…” Her eyes widened as she remembered Tara’s presence. “I mean— I— ‘cause they suck your soul out, you know? Guys . Soul-sucking. Like vampires. The… fictional kind.”

“It’s okay,” Tara said with a shy smile. “W-Willow kind of already told me a-about… um…”

Buffy glanced at Willow with surprise.

“Tara’s a very powerful and practiced Wiccan,” Willow explained hastily. 

“I’m not!” Tara protested feebly. “Not like Willow— I’m not powerful. I—”

“Hush,” Willow said playfully to Tara before turning to Buffy. “She was not at all surprised about the vampy news.”

“Impressed though,” Tara said. “By you being the s-slayer, I mean.” She added anxiously, “It’s… impressive.” She took a big bite of her cookie and looked away.

Buffy raised her brows and nodded. “ Okay then . You two are closer than I thought.”

“Riley isn’t a vampire, though, right?” Tara asked, her voice muffled by cookie until she swallowed. “He’s always seemed pretty… normal.”

“The definition of,” Buffy confirmed with a wistful sigh. “Unlike—” There was a tap at the window. She wasn’t even surprised to see Spike’s single arched brow and crooked finger beckoning her toward the glass. “ Him .”

Willow huffed her disapproval. “What in the hecking heck is he doing here again!? He cannot keep just showing up like this! You are going through something! You need cookies and girl talk and a romantic comedy or five!”

Spike jerked his head to one side, his implication to come outside very clear.

Buffy stared at him and took a bite of her “I just broke up with a great guy because of you” cookie.

His eyes narrowed like her cookie-eating was a secret sex message he needed to decode. 

Stupid idiot.

“I’m gonna go talk to him,” Buffy said, setting down her cookie. Because it turned out she was also a stupid idiot.

“ Buffy ,” Willow protested. “No. Don’t you remember the swearing-off you were just doing? Down with men who cause you to make bad decisions? Particularly of the fanged and evil variety?”

She stood up. “I know. I just… I know , Will. But I think I’d really love to yell at someone right now, and you guys definitely don’t deserve that.”

“Sure I do!” Willow exclaimed. “I borrowed your purple glitter sweater the other day and I stained it irreparably and I didn’t even tell you about it, and I am really sorry but you can get your anger out now.”

“You did not do that.”

“No… But I could… go do that?”

“Will.”

Willow sighed. “I just feel like you’re caught in a bad cycle, and you’re not happy with yourself. I don’t like seeing it.”

Buffy hugged herself and bit on her bottom lip a minute before answering. “You aren’t wrong. But… avoiding Spike for very long is kind of impossible. He’s like an undead whack-a-mole. And hey, at least now that I’m all boyfriendless, it isn’t wrong to talk to Spike anymore. If not wise.”

“Talk?” Willow challenged, nose in the air, face skeptical.

“Believe me, I am so not in the mood for that.”

Spike rapped on the window again, hands gesturing impatiently.

“He is very determined, huh?” Tara noted.

“You have no idea,” said Buffy. “Bye, guys. Thanks for the cookies. You should still watch the movie! Clueless?”

“Yup!” Willow popped the ‘P’ dramatically. “Extremely clueless.”

“No, I meant the movie— Oh.”

Willow grinned and Buffy stuck her tongue out as she left.

*****

She walked with purpose— her every stride a visible warning to any and all who crossed her of her inner fire and turmoil. She was Buffy Summers. Buffy the vampire slayer! And she was fucking pissed. 

Spike had ruined everything for the last time, and she was prepared to really let him have it tonight.

Buffy loudly shoved the dormitory door open and burst into the cool night air. 

Sure, she wasn’t innocent in this situation. She knew that all too well. But a lot of that long-lost innocence was because of Spike. He’d teased her, taunted her, tempted her, tormented— he’d done a ton of terrible T things to her. 

“Finally,” Spike greeted her on the lawn beneath a tree, obviously annoyed.

Buffy put her hands on her hips. “I broke up with Riley today.”

His face changed instantly, his annoyance gone and replaced by something softer that she didn’t understand or even care to understand. “That right? ‘Cause of me?”

“Yes, ‘cause of you! ‘Cause of what we’ve done! Because he didn’t deserve to have a girlfriend who was cheating on him while he was busy falling in love —” Her voice cracked and tears welled up and, oh no, this was not a part of the plan at all! She quickly covered her face with her hands and thought about running at top speed.

“Hey.” Spike pulled her hands away, which she quickly folded defensively across her chest, turning her face to the side. He cupped her cheek and forced her to look at him. “I’m sorry, slayer.”

“What?” Horrified with herself and her feelings, she choked back another sob. “You’re— you’re sorry ?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged as if even he recognized the absurdity of that. “I know you…” He sighed like it was a bitter thing to say. “Cared about… that wanker.”

“He’s not a—”

Spike touched her lips with one finger. “So I’m sorry. Can’t say I fancy seein’ you cry.”

He really was annoying and impossible and confusing.

“Why not? I’m your mortal enemy, aren’t I?” She sniffled and blinked a lot, wondering if her mascara was running now.

“Yeah.” His voice was soft and low, comforting. “You are that.”

Buffy swallowed hard as a tornado of conflicted feelings spun inside of her. She didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or to cry, so she felt herself kind of doing both. How did he have this wild effect on her?

Maybe it was the insanity of her laugh-crying or maybe it was a self-protecting reflex he suddenly had, but Spike wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in tight.

It made her breath catch and all her muscles clench with wrongness, but after a moment she relaxed. His hand, slowly moving up and down her back felt really nice and maybe it was a subliminal conditioning effect of having spent too much time with Spike lately, but he smelled nice, too. It all just felt kind of nice. 

Which was fucked up and weird and it only made her cry harder.

“Come on, love. Let’s go to my place,” he murmured in her ear after a few moments of letting her be shamefully hysterical.

Buffy was too unraveled to even pretend to protest. She just nodded and held tight to him as his hand continued up and down, up and down her back.

Chapter 30

Spike was acting weird.

Like, real weird.

Buffy supposed that watching your sworn enemy collapse into a helpless puddle of pathetic in front of you might have a destabilizing effect on a guy. She tried to imagine if Spike had come to her and started sobbing hysterically about his ex-girlfriend, how she’d feel about… 

Wait. Spike had done that! Her name was Drusilla. And Buffy had definitely still wanted to kill him both during and after his emotional breakdown.

But currently, Spike was silently ( silently?!) pouring her a drink, and he’d made her sit in his stolen green comfy chair by the stolen TV he’d somehow stolen electricity for. She was pretty sure this was, like, Spike’s special chair or something, so it felt kind of weird to be sitting in the place where he watched whatever the hell it was Spike watched. Action movies? Zombie stuff? The Real World? 

He’d been careful and nice to her on the walk over— saying a lot of meaningless small talky things— and at one point, when she was breathing weird and trying to rein in her icky snot factory, he’d taken her hand.

He’d taken… her hand.

Spike had taken her hand.

And Buffy had been in such a tailspin of turmoil that she’d let him do it, and it had calmed her and she didn’t know why but it was probably some sort of twisted Stockholm Syndrome.

What other explanation was there?

Spike knelt in front of her now, glass full of booze held out in offering, eyes searching hers. 

Buffy took the drink and grumbled a weak, “I’m mad at you.”

“I know,” he said without inflection. Then he held up his own drink. “To moving on.”

She considered that with some thought. She’d definitely like to move on. From what though? She kind of needed a total do-over, not a move on. Ideally, she’d do the entire last month again— in a much less stupid way.

Buffy frowned, but she clinked her glass with his and took a sip. Blech! Would Spike ever learn to buy/steal anything that tasted even halfway good?

When she looked at him again, he had a sort of starry glimmer in his eyes that quickly vanished as he looked down at his drink.

“Sorry,” he said, throat clearing. “Know you hate this stuff. But it’ll calm your nerves.”

She nodded and took another sip, grimacing after. It was nice to do something. Even if it was just holding a drink and sitting in a hole in the ground with Spike.

“I really fucked up,” she said softly. “He must hate me now.”

“Probably.”

She glared at him.

“What? I’m just bein’ honest with you.”

Buffy rolled her eyes and sighed as she took another excruciating sip.

Spike bit his bottom lip, watching her, then said, “Actually. If you really wanna know… He probably doesn’t hate you. Me? Absolutely. Hates me to the pit of his soul. But you…?” He shook his head. “Rather difficult to hate.”

“No, he definitely hates me. I… told him about you and… everything.” She paused, heart hammering with guilt even now. She looked at Spike. “I mean, he hates you, too, of course!”

“Of course.”

“But at least you didn’t betray him. Or yourself.” Buffy added lamely, “You’re supposed to be evil.”

Without a lot of conviction, he uttered, “I am.”

“I can’t go back to class,” Buffy said, a new tear slipping free. “So I’m probably gonna fail that one. And it’s Pysch . I’m pretty sure that’s, like, one of the important ones.”

Spike’s head cocked to one side, listening.

Buffy went on, “I also kind of told him about our plan and I asked him for help, and…” She shrugged her shoulders and downed some more alcohol because why not? “And I don’t think he’s gonna… I mean, why would he? He thinks I’m totally insane now. I probably am. It just isn’t a very good plan, is it? Everyone says so. Like, everyone ! Right?”

Spike looked a little surprised by his invitation to participate in this conversation. “The plan… could use… refining.”

Buffy stared at him for a solemn moment and then exploded with laughter. It felt so unbelievably good in her chest to just laugh and laugh and laugh.

“Refining,” she squeaked out, before descending into more uncontrollable laughter.

Spike was cautiously smiling at her. “To be honest, I’ve had worse plans.”

“Yeah, you have!” Buffy agreed as she gasped for air, tears streaming down her face. “Like— like, when you stormed PTA night at my school? How pathetic was that!?”

“Not my best.”

“Attacked me in broad daylight with that stupid ring.”

“I was excited.”

“Or when you showed up drunk, crying about Drusilla. I mean, why did you even come all this way?!” Buffy cackled hysterically, nearly choking on her liquor as she took a final sip, made a face, and then set the glass down on the floor.

“Dunno,” Spike said, like he hadn’t really thought about that before. His smile faded. “I don’t know. Dru, she— she said some things.” He scratched the back of his head and stood up, taking a few steps away from her. “‘Bout you.”

Laughter and distress both finally fading, she said, “Me?” 

Spike swung around to face her. “Reckon it pissed me off, you know? I mean, what did she know anyhow?”

“I… don’t know,” Buffy said cluelessly. “What did she say?”

“‘S not important.”

“Oka—”

“She said I was covered in you,” Spike said, sort of angrily.

Buffy felt her brows go up. “What does that mean?”

“Bugger if I know!” he snapped back.

Spike ran his hands through his hair and let out a huge sigh before he looked at Buffy again, eyes burning hot. The air around him felt desperate and charged.

“So, um…” She stood up uncomfortably, grabbing her empty glass and handing it to him.

Taking the glass, Spike’s face was all fire and he was breathing too hard for a vampire or for a person even. “What? You want more?”

Buffy shook her head innocently. “No. It’s, um, it’s just… yours.”

With a nod, Spike bit his tongue thoughtfully and then he seemed to decide something. 

Too distracted by his sudden intensity, Buffy heard the chimey splash of shattering glass before she even realized he’d flung it at the wall. She looked toward the sound just as he seized her cheeks and kissed her like the whole world was on fire and this was their last moment.

“Mmph!” Buffy kissed him back without thinking. It just… felt right. Somehow, just kissing her enemy had turned into the only thing in her life that felt right. She flung her arms around his neck and opened her mouth and let his tongue be as wicked and insistent as he wished. It was a relief honestly. His behavior had made no sense lately, but this— this made sense. This she understood. 

Spike broke the kiss, smoothing Buffy’s hair back from her cheeks affectionately as she inhaled her beloved oxygen. “I hate when Dru’s right.”

“Right about what?”

He snorted. “Just take your clothes off, slayer.”

“You.”

*****

Moments later, they were both naked in Spike’s bed. 

Yesterday’s Buffy would have mentally thrashed about and agonized over this moral quandary— how the hell did I get here again?! This is just getting ridiculous! — whilst, of course, physically relishing every single blissful second of Spike and his unending bedroom expertise. 

But that was yesterday. That was a different Buffy. A far away, long ago Buffy, never to exist again. That was Riley’s girlfriend. That was not who she was today. 

Today, she was free. Heartbroken— and she had only herself to blame for that— but free. 

Something about that seemed to really make the sex different.

“Oh, Spike…”

His lithe body seemed to float over her as he suckled her neck with his lips and fondled her pussy with his fingertips. “You’ve been bad,” Spike growled. “So bad.”

“No…” She arched her back, all her nerves glowing from his ceaseless talk and touches.

“You have. You’re a naughty little sl—”

“ No .”

He lifted his head to look at her. “No?”

“I just—” Buffy blinked away some ridiculous tears as all her existential fears from the past twenty four hours surged to the surface. It was just a silly sex game. They were just words. And yet… “I just think I want to be good. To feel… good.”

“Mmm… that turn you on?”

“It could.” Of course, it could . Goodness was… very hot. Riley was good, though…

Spike kissed her cheek delicately. “Should I be good, too, then?”

Buffy couldn’t help her amused smile at the prospect. “I guess… you could try?”

“All right then.” He grinned a little, like this was a new and thrilling challenge. “As the lady requests.”

Lady.

Spike’s mouth returned to her neck and his fingers got back to work. God, he could make her come with just this. Buffy moaned and tangled her hands into his bleached locks.

“Spread those pretty legs,” Spike murmured.

Buffy stretched her legs out wider, happy to help in any way that led to more, “Ohhhh…”  

“Good girl.”

“ Ohhhh!!”

She could feel his smirk even if she couldn’t see it. And she didn’t care. He was kissing her nipple now, teasing the other with his hand.

“Mmmm… Spike… that’s so… good…”

His tongue swirled around her one nipple as he squeezed and teased the other.

Lifting up suddenly he looked at her and shook his head. “Christ, pet. I want you too much.”

Confused, she said, “So have me.”

Spike grinned and patted her pussy very gently, but it still made her jump. “I will have you, slayer.”

Kay? He was back to acting strange it seemed. What the hell went on in that head of his? Buffy didn’t have much time to care, though, as he pressed the tip of his cock against her entrance and all her senses began ringing like bells.

“What do you want, Buffy?”

He asked her that now when she was completely naked, her legs spread out wide before him? Seemed kind of obvious.

“You.”

“Say it.”

“I want you, Spike.”

“That’s right. You chose me .”

Her brow furrowed at that. Was he actually talking about Riley? Did she choose Spike over— 

“Unghhht!” she cried as he slammed into her with one sharp thrust.

But he didn’t pull back. He just… stayed there, deep inside of her. Buffy moved her legs to wrap tighter around him, desperate for the friction, but he grabbed her ankles and stretched them back out again.

Panting, she asked, “What are you doing?”

“I—” Spike swallowed whatever he was about to say. “I, um…” He shook his head and he released her ankles. He lowered his upper body, bringing them closer together and began to run his hands through her hair. “Nothing, kitten. Nothin’ at all.”

He began to move, slowly, and she brought her knees in, hugging his hips as his sudden aggression faded away.

Buffy moaned with pleasure as they slowly rocked together in fluid harmony. She held his muscled back and they kissed sweet and languidly. The faint taste of alcohol and cigarettes on his tongue had somehow turned into a turn on for her and she lapped it up.

“Buffy…” Spike kissed her tenderly again. “My Buffy. Sweet girl. Sweet slayer.”

“Mmmm…”

“Hey, do you remember that first night?” he asked, pausing his hips.

Buffy blinked a little. “Um, the wedding night you mean? Kinda hard to forget.”

“We were somethin’ though. Weren’t we?”

His eyes were doing that thing again. She felt her heart pump even harder than it already was. “I, uh—”

“Was simple. Just…” Spike grimaced, like he was suddenly realizing that he’d decided to have a conversation during what had been a pretty wonderfully sexy mood. “You seemed so happy is all.” 

He thrusted into her again and Buffy grunted. “It’s— uhnn!— easy to be happy when you’re under a spell.”

“A love spell.”

“Right.”

Spike froze. “Only, it wasn’t really a love spell at all, was it?”

Buffy looked up at him and shrugged. “Spike, what are you going on about?”

He stroked her cheek and it made her whole body shiver, which he seemed delighted by. “Dunno. This… bein’ good thing is… new for me. I’m trying.”

“You get chatty when you’re good?”

“Apparently.”

“You’re kind chatty when you’re bad, too, I guess,” she said, much to his amusement.

“Damn right.”

Well, there was one way to shut him up. Buffy put her hands on his killer cheekbones and brought him in for a long deep kiss. Then she reversed their positions with some slayer strength and a jerk of her hips.

“Let me help you,” she said authoritatively.

Spike looked up at her smiling. “You should twirl your hair when you say that. Or squeeze your tits or something.” At her disapproving look, he smirked and shrugged. “I can be good and think you’re hot.”

“Fair enough.” Buffy kept her eyes on him and began to gyrate on top of him, his cock feeling even deeper inside of her from this angle. She even played with her hair and boobs a little since he seemed to really like that.

“A very… hot… wife…” he said, finishing his sentence with a deep groan, his hands smoothing all across her skin, from her breasts to her thighs. 

And that scary ‘W’ word didn’t annoy her as much as it should have. Was he being ridiculous? Of course. But she found she liked it better— at least today— than dirty slayer slut or whatever other nasty names he could so easily think of for her. 

Buffy closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of his hands, tracing her outline, squeezing her ass and legs as she arched and flexed her body for him. 

It all just felt so good. They were really good at this.

“Oh God, Spike. Ohhhh…”

“C’mere, pet.” He pulled her down to his chest, holding her by her ass as he kissed her deep and smooth. He broke it and kissed her cheek, her ear. Then he whispered raspily. “Buffy, you’re mine. Don’t you feel it? We’re good— so good together. Come for me, sweetheart.”

“Guhh!!!” 

Buffy had never felt a shockwave like that tear through her body. Well, maybe she had. But not since…

Nope. Don’t think that.

Spike came, too. And he was as quiet about it as she’d been. He clapped his arms around her back and squeezed her to him as he shook and then finally settled.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Fuck, Buffy.”

“Yeah,” she agreed softly.

“Bloody hell.”

“Uh huh.”

Buffy rested her head on the pillow beside him, his cock still inside her, her legs still straddling his waist. His hands began stroking her back. Up and down, up and down.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered into her hair. “So, so good.”

Why did she like that so much? Did he know? Did he have any clue what he was doing to her when he said stuff like that?

“You’re… not too bad yourself,” Buffy replied belatedly, sleepily.

She heard his faint scoff, but he kissed the top of her head and stroked her hair.

“Get some sleep, love.”

Buffy didn’t need to be told twice. For the first time in weeks, she felt very very relaxed.

Chapter 31

When Buffy woke, her first thought was something akin to “ahhh…”

Then she remembered where she was and who she was snuggling with— yep, her head on his chest, his arm holding her close, definite snugglage !— and the “ahh” mutated into “fuuuck.”

Last night, the sex had been undeniably good, but also different. Kinder? She’d felt something new from Spike and from herself even. It had actually felt like he cared about her feelings. Her distress seemed to matter to him. Had she been asked beforehand how Spike was going to react when she started sobbing uncontrollably in front of him, she definitely would not have predicted consolation, cuddles, and sweet talk. More like… mockery, laughter, and possibly some bonus dirty talk.

She’d probably never lose the knot of guilt she felt whenever she thought about Riley, but Buffy definitely felt better now that she’d been honest with him. A weight was off her chest and heart, and she could think about what was really going on with her, what had been going on with her ever since that fateful night in Las Vegas.

“Know you’re awake,” Spike murmured, his fingertips tracing the length of her arm.

Buffy’s heart jumped. “How? Do I snore? Tell me I don’t snore.”

“Nah. Your, uh, your breathing and your heart rate… once you’re awake and thinking again, they’re back to highly stressed levels.”

His fingers delicately skimmed her spine. Buffy wondered if he could sense how her heart changed when he did that, too.

Faintly, she said, “Stressed? Me?”

Spike chuckled and the sound was gooey like honey.

His hands felt good.

With all her willpower, Buffy clutched the bedsheet and pulled herself away from Spike, sitting up and holding the silky gold sheet to her chest. “I should… probably go.”

Still lying on his back, looking too beautiful with his messy hair and naked chest, Spike stretched a stiff arm out and then brought it back in to rest his head on, assessing her thoughtfully all the while. “All right.”

Buffy nodded. “I’ve got… classes.”

“That you do, school girl.”

Buffy lifted a brow and he smirked.

“What?” she asked.

“Just enjoying a new mental picture is all,” Spike said, smirk smirking in overtime now. “You ever consider pigtails?”

“And on that note…” She swung her legs to the floor and looked around for her clothes. Ah, right. She’d barely made it down the ladder before the clothes had been shed.

“Why are you even in school anymore?”

Buffy frowned as she gathered up her things. “Why wouldn’t I be in school?”

“Oh, I dunno. Busy savin’ the world or some such rot?”

She glanced at him and his smug face and shrugged. “I have to go to school.”

“Why? Xander doesn’t go to school. And he isn’t special like you. No talent or skills whatsoever. But you — you could do anything. Some slip o’ paper from a lousy college… ain’t gonna… change that.” He’d nearly lost his train of thought, she noticed with amusement, as he watched her shimmy on her panties, his head tilting to one side.

Buffy carefully put on her bra, hooking it in the back as she said, “I am not taking career advice from a guy born in the nineteenth century.” 

“But what do you need a bloody career for ?”

“ Hello . I need money.”

Spike scoffed. “Money.”

“You have no idea how much I eat.”

“You really ought to be compensated somehow…” Spike said, his brow creased with thought. “It’s bloody rubbish you’re not. Those Council wankers really expect you to do this high pressure, saving-all-of-mankind job— alone — and to get sod all in return?”

Standing there in her underwear in a vampire’s crypt, Buffy thought she probably didn’t have much of a high ground to stand on when it came to what she did or did not deserve, but Spike did have a point.

“Pretty much,” she said.

“Hmph.” Spike clasped both of his hands behind his head and sighed. “You got a raw deal, sweetheart.”

Buffy frowned, simultaneously contemplating his use of the word ‘sweetheart’ and the validity of what he was saying. 

“Do you even like school?” he persisted.

She rolled her eyes and stepped into her jeans. “Are you just trying to turn me off of school so that I’ll stay here and have more sex with you?”

Spike arched one brow and grinned. “Why? Is it working?”

“Of course not.” Buffy tugged her t-shirt on over her head. “Believe it or not, Spike, I will not be throwing away my entire future so that I can sleep with my mortal enemy again— my soon-to-be-dead— soon to be deader mortal enemy.”

“Right…”

“Right!” she echoed vehemently as she scanned the ground. “Where are my shoes?!”

“Sleeping with your enemy, laughing with your enemy, drinking with your enemy, crying with your enemy…”

Buffy paused the shoe searching expedition to dare him with her eyes to finish that sentence.

Spike shrugged. “I think you like me.”

“I think you’re stupid.”

“I think you were cuddling with me.”

“I think I was tired.”

“I think we’re married.”

Pursing her lips tightly, Buffy snatched up her found strappy sandal and chucked it directly at Spike’s head. He caught it without issue and held it out for her with a knowing smile.

“I can’t wait to kill you,” she said as she took the shoe back.

“Mutual, love.”

*****

Buffy actually went to her classes after that. She managed to avoid Spike for the entire day. And she said nothing to her ex-boyfriend TA.

She did take remarkably diligent notes in her best bubbly handwriting for the first time in a long time as she steadfastly avoided Riley’s eye contact for ninety whole minutes. Only when she was on her way out after class did their eyes finally meet and she felt a serious stab of longing and obligatory shame as he tried to smile at her and she tried to smile at him and the vortex of awkwardness threatened to consume them both. Buffy held her psychology textbook tight to her chest like a shield and all but ran at top speed.

After all her classes were finished, some homework was done, and mediocre cafeteria food was consumed, Buffy was scrolling through Livejournal again.

I can’t believe how much my perspective has changed since I wrote my first blog post less than two months ago. I thought I’d NEVER get over my ex. I thought nothing and no one could make me feel that spark again. For years and years it felt like I lived in the background… I didn’t really matter much. And that was okay with me because maybe that’s where I belonged? But he changed things. He noticed me. Me! Not my amazing best friend who has all the moves, all the beauty, all the style and fun. (Love you, CaliBlonde81!!) Someone noticed ME and he was smart and gentle and hilarious. I felt like a new person with him. Like a person I really liked.

So when he left, I felt really broken. And like I was gonna be the old me all over again, and how could I go back to that?! I didn’t want to be mousy and forgettable anymore. But when he cheated on me, I felt like that girl stuck in the shadows again. I felt like all my power and strength was gone. Poof! Taken. And I think that made me make some not so good decisions. I just… I needed to feel like the old me again, and that led to some badness. (Sorry, CaliBlonde81!!)

But then… I felt the spark. I felt real magic. I felt it rush through me stronger than ever before and it was like… it was like flying . All my fears about who I’d been and who I was became nothing but feathers floating on the wind.

Something new inside me woke up the second I saw… this new person. I wasn’t the old me anymore and I wasn’t even the me I thought I wanted to be. I was someone new, someone better… the me-est me of them all.

Which is pretty cool.

Wow! It sounded like Willow had a new guy! How awesome was that? But it also sounded like this had been happening right under Buffy’s nose and she hadn’t even noticed. She tried to scan the recesses of her memory for any guys sniffing around Willow lately, but she was drawing complete blanks.

God, she was the worst friend. Too caught up in her absurd Spike drama to even notice her best friend was falling for someone. 

She would tell Willow all this, but as was often the case lately, Willow wasn’t around. At least now she knew why, Buffy thought with amusement.

She left Willow a supportive comment and noticed that Tara had, too, only her comment was even sweeter and more support-y than Buffy’s. She really hoped Tara wasn’t vying for new bestie position. Ugh, Tara probably knew exactly who this guy was!

Buffy shook herself and went to her own blog post to check for comments on the post she’d written earlier.

The band-aid has been ripped. That is, if my boyfriend was a band-aid and I was an ugly open wound, we have officially separated. Anyway. It was a painful ripping and I’m probably going to get infected now, but it was long overdue. I couldn’t keep dating someone when my thoughts and… other things… were consumed by someone else. It wasn’t fair.

And while I know that’s all true and right and stuff, I really wish it wasn’t. I wish things had gone differently. I feel like the worst person in the world, and I wish things could just go back to normal. If I ever had a normal.

It’s a funny word. NORMAL. I’ve been a little obsessed with it for the last few years. Ever since my life drastically changed when I… um, moved to a new town. It’s always felt like something to strive for, but I’m starting to wonder about that. I’m starting to wonder why I feel more out of place at school or at a frat party than I do in a cemetery or a “demon” bar (yeah I am not explaining that one. Just trust me).

Maybe I feel like I fail at everything normal because I’m trying to make all the wrong things work.

Last night I had a very NOT normal for me breakdown about the breakup and I was with someone I hate and somehow he made it better and eventually I was laughing and just… not crying anymore…

I don’t know what it means. But it’s definitely Not Normal .

let’s chat soon. i’m worried that i’m interpreting this blog correctly and if i am interpreting it correctly, i am very worried. love ya, cali.

i think in college, you get to follow your heart and pick your own normal <3

Check your messages

 

Buffy had messages? Brow furrowed, she clicked around until she noticed a little red number in the corner and clicked on it.

thisisinsipid had been messaging her for a while it seemed. And she’d never noticed. Who was this person again?

The first message was from a few days ago and said:

Hey. I know we don’t know each other. I just happened upon your picture and couldn’t resist giving you a click. Can’t say I’ve ever been much for blondes, but for you I might make an exception.

Buffy couldn’t help but grin to herself. She replied:

Might? You miiiight make an exception? I don’t flirt with strangers on the internet without a solid explanation of your intentions.

The next message was from yesterday and said:

Just read your latest post. From what I’ve seen of the world (and believe me, I’ve seen the world), the people who fret most over being good or bad, they’re always the good ones. So I wouldn’t worry so much if I were you.

Buffy answered:

That’s easy for you to say, internet stranger. You didn’t recently break an awesome guy’s heart. Or did you?

The next message had only been sent ten minutes ago. She clicked it eagerly, oddly enjoying this strange and anonymous communication.

I’m intrigued by the guy in your latest post. The one you say’s consuming all your thoughts and… other things? Do tell.

Well. How was she supposed to reply to that?

Feeling a little flustered, Buffy got up and got a Diet Coke from the mini fridge she and Willow shared. She popped it open and took a fizzy sip before sitting back in her desk chair again.

Bloop .

A sound chimed and a little window popped up on her screen. It was from her instant messenger. And yet it was from someone she’d never spoken to via instant messenger…

thisisinsipid : I see you finally got my messages

Uh oh. Did she have an internet stalker?

thisisinsipid : Since you say you only flirt with internet strangers when they reveal their intentions, let me say that my intentions are entirely seductive and that you are a very beautiful blonde indeed.

Buffy’s heart was hammering in overdrive. Who was this guy?

thisisinsipid : And for the record, if I’ve broken any man’s heart I am completely unaware. Not that I couldn’t mind yuo.

CaliBlonde81 : You seem to think awfully highly of yourself and your seduction skills.

thisisinsipid : Well I’m very charming. You just have to get to know me.

CaliBlonde81 : Why should I bother? If you really read my blog posts you know that I’m sort of seeign someone. Kind of. It’s complicated.

thisisinsipid : Someone you hate. Right?

Buffy took a long sip of her soda. Her knee was bouncing anxiously up and down. She slapped a hand on it to stop herself. Caffeine may not have been the best idea.

CaliBlonde81 : Right. But… he’s like reeeeeally good in bed…

thisisinsipid : I might be even better

CaliBlonde81 : I kinda doubt that. No offense :-) 

thisisinsipid : You’ve wounded me

CaliBlonde81 : Oh no! How do I make it up to you??

thisisinsipid : Not sure…
thisisinsipid : How’s about you tell me what’s so brilliant about this guy you’re seeing but not seeing?

CaliBlonde81 : And that’s gonna make you feel better? hearing how great some OTHER guy is?

thisisinsipid : I want to know what you like

Whoa. Mr. thisisinsipid was certainly persistent. For some reason. But what did she like? And why did he even care?

CaliBlonde81 : Like… in bed?

thisisinsipid : If you’re telling…
thisisinsipid : Kidding. I’m actually more interested in the girl outside the bed.

CaliBlonde81 : Your loss ;-) 

thisisinsipid : For now

Who was she right now? This didn’t even feel real. How was this anonymous random person turning her into this scandalous internet slut? 

CaliBlonde81 : Before I tell you anything… I want to know about you. How did you find me? A/S/L?

Buffy waited a long time for him to respond. She tapped her keyboard impatiently with her fingernails. She needed a manicure…

thisisinsipid : Told you. I thought your picture was cute. Think I saw it  on my friend Willows blog. Dunno what A/S/L means

CaliBlonde81 : You know Willow?
CaliBlonde81 : Age/sex/location

thisisinsipid : We have a class together

CaliBlonde81 : Oh! Wow I didn’t expect you to be so close by. You could’ve lived in Africa for all I knew haha!! I guess that means your our age too

thisisinsipid : I’m full of surprises

CaliBlonde81 : So you are!
CaliBlonde81 : aaaand I have to go.

thisisinsipid : Not scurrying off on my account I hope

CaliBlonde81 : Nope. Duty calls. And I must answer.

thisisinsipid : It’s pretty late. Sure you’re not off to find that sex fiend you can’t stop thinking about?
thisisinsipid : You never did tell me anything about him… or you…
thisisinsipid : How do I type one of those little faces so you know I’m disappoineted?

Buffy found herself giggling, alone at her computer. 

CaliBlonde81 : That will be your homework for hte next time we chat. Figure out the face thing.

thisisinsipid : You’re on

CaliBlonde81 : TTYL!

Still grinning, Buffy glanced at the clock, amazed by how long she’d been sitting there typing to someone she didn’t even know. 

With a contented little sigh, she got up and grabbed her stake.

*****

Buffy had already dusted two vampires by the time Spike arrived. Because of course he would arrive. He was like a mosquito, always buzzing around.

“I’m busy!” she called as he strolled forward.

“I see that,” he mocked, looking around at all the nothing going on currently.

“Well, I was busy like two seconds ago, and I will be busy again shortly. So… just you wait!”

Spike stuffed his hands into his pockets. “That’s real nice, slayer. I wanted to tell you I tracked down old Joe.”

“Huh?”

“Joe.”

“Joe?”

“Bloody hell, woman. The demon Clem ‘n Steve were on about. He’s been turnin’ on his own kind—”

“Like you!”

Spike glared at her. “ Not like me. He brings the Initiative fresh lots of prisoners?”

“And?” Buffy put her hands on her hips.

“ And he showed me where he meets ‘em and does the exchange. Said he’d arrange us an appointment if we fancy.”

“We fancy! Did you tell him we fancy?”

“Well…” Spike’s gaze turned upward toward the half moon. “I had a thought.”

Folding her arms, Buffy said, “That’s never good.”

“You need to get in good with ‘em first.”

“What? How?”

Spike sighed heavily. “Ask your bloody boyfriend how.”

“He’s not my boyfriend anymore. The time for favors from Riley has long passed. And that is entirely because of you.”

“ And you.”

Buffy bit her lip hard. “He can’t help us. I’m not asking.”

“Then have a chat with that Walsh bitch you two were yammering about that one night. Sounds like she’s the head o’ this whole bloody operation anyhow.”

That was an idea. Not the most comfy one. But an easier-to-swallow one for sure. 

“Okay…” Buffy said slowly. “I guess I could… tell her I wanna… lend my services? To the cause?”

Spike snorted. “Right. Yeah. Tell her that.”

“And then she’ll trust me?

“That’s the idea, pet. She’ll trust you.” He paused and gave her a coy smile. “‘Specially when you bring her her long-lost Hostile 17.”

Chapter 32

It turned out that Professor Walsh had been just as curious about the mythological slayer as this slayer had been about Professor Walsh’s secret lair/underground operation.

“It took the patrol team forty two minutes to track you and you neutralized them in twenty eight seconds,” Professor Walsh said, eying Buffy up and down with renewed interest. 

“I was just lucky,” she replied modestly. She could be modest. Even when she was surrounded by commando guys whose asses she’d very recently and tidily handed to them.

Riley was panting on the ground still. Buffy hadn’t even really registered it was him before she swept his legs out from underneath him and took him out in the blink of a second. She pulled him up to standing now. Their hands lingered and there was a conflicted look on his face as he gave her a short nod and then quickly went to stand behind his… general? Professor? Sea captain? Buffy had no idea.

She swallowed her discomfort.

“Lucky or not, it’s very impressive.” Professor Walsh gave Riley an intrigued glance, but then refocused on Buffy. “Our methods are entirely different, but you could certainly be a useful asset to The Initiative. And… this does also explain your poor academic performance when you always appeared to be so bright. So bright in fact that Agent Finn here could hardly keep his eyes off you while I was teaching.”

Buffy smiled nervously. “Huh. Yeah. Um… isn’t that something? I’m… glad you like my proposal then. So, uhm do I get one of those nifty do-dads that shoots electricity or… whatever that stuff is? Somethin’ splodey.”

Riley looked off to the side, his expression impossible for Buffy to read.

Professor Walsh’s cool gray eyes narrowed. “We’ll need to authorize your security clearances before we get to the specifics of your weaponry and assignments.”

“Right. Of course. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I imagine years of working with… sticks… has made you thirsty for something with some real power.”

Buffy flinched internally. “Yeah, something like that.”

“What I’m really curious about is whether or not you can be a team player. You’ve operated unilaterally for quite some time.”

“Only but so solo, though. I mean I have a watcher and… friends. Friends who help. Helpfully.”

Professor Walsh didn’t miss a beat. “You often involve civilians in your missions?”

“No! Oh, no. That would be… totally dangerous. Um… well… Willow can do ma—” Nope. That was not a wise thing to share! “Um, math. She’s great at math. And me? Not much with the mathing. Sometimes missions require lots of… math. You know?”

“Mmhmm.” 

Buffy had the sneaking suspicion that Professor Walsh was thinking a lot more things than she was saying.

“Well, Buffy, let’s chat more after class tomorrow and we can start working on your clearances and your… role in this operation.”

“Sounds good.” She forced her best smile.

“Agent Finn, I trust you can handle the necessary paperwork.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Riley replied dutifully, looking not very pleased by the prospect. Buffy tried to give him a sympathetic expression.

Professor Walsh nodded. “That will be all then. Goodnight, Buffy. Agent Finn?”

“Um. A moment, Professor. If you don’t mind. I wanted to speak with Buffy about… something in one of her recent essays.”

Buffy was fairly confident from the look on her face that Professor Walsh didn’t buy this for one second, but she said “Very well” anyway and walked off with the rest of her soldiers.

Alone with Riley, Buffy began, “So how are you do—?”

“What are you up to, Buffy?” he interrupted in a no-nonsense tone.

“Huh?”

Riley shook his head a little. “You don’t wanna join the Initiative.”

Surprised by his certainty, Buffy could only fumble through a reply, “O-of course I do. That’s what I’m… here to do. I can totally help you guys. Didn’t you see my cool flips and spin moves?”

And she needed Professor Walsh to trust her so that when she presented her “prisoner” Spike, otherwise known as Hostile 17, on a silver platter and insisted he be de-chipped for… mysterious slayer reasons, there would be a shred of hope that she might actually do it in return for some sort of future slayer-assistance.

“I saw ‘em. And I also know you’re sleeping with a vampire and you want that chip out of his head for some insane reason.”

Damn her and her damning damn mouth. Things stupidly revealed during a breakup conversation shouldn’t be held against a girl later…

“I should tell Professor Walsh everything,” Riley said, looking torn.

“Please don’t.” She stepped forward and reached out to touch him, but she stopped before she did. “Riley, please. Just… trust me?”

Riley noticed her awkward hand and folded his arms over his chest. “I have no reason to lie or keep secrets for you anymore, Buffy. In fact, I have every reason to not trust you.”

Buffy blinked a few times and swallowed, but she nodded. “You’re right. You’re completely right. I wish you weren’t, but you’re right.”

“I am right,” he said, looking a little surprised she agreed.

“But I have no reason to lie to you now, do I? I’ve already lost… everything. I’m still one of the good guys. You believe that, don’t you? It’s, like, in my DNA.”

Riley looked nearly as uncomfortable as she felt. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to believe. Or think.” He sighed heavily. “Just… don’t give me another thing to regret, Buffy.”

He turned to go and she felt the throbbing of a deep painful ache as she watched him walk away.

Buffy stood there alone for a moment, feeling full of feelings as the crickets chirped merrily.

“That was painful to watch,” Spike greeted.

She didn’t even look in his direction. “Do you ever get tired of mysteriously appearing from the shadows at just the right moment to make Buffy feel like a total loser?”

“Mmm… no. It’s kinda fun.”

“I know another vampire who used to do that all the time. Didn’t end well. One day he just walked back into those shadows forever. C'est la vie.”

Buffy looked at him finally and Spike looked confused.

“What other—?” He connected the Angel-shaped dots suddenly. “Oh, bloody hell. Nice try at pissin’ me off. I’m not the reason you feel so lousy right now, you know. No need to be such a bitch.”

“No,” she agreed softly, staring off into the direction Riley had walked. “You’re not. Not directly anyway.”

Spike stood beside her now, casually lighting a cigarette. “It was never gonna work with that one, love. Don’t give him any more o’ your tears.”

“Then who’s it possibly gonna work with? And I’m not a bitch.”

Spike didn’t say anything for a while, just took a long drag from his cigarette. “Who’s to say?”

“Well, you seem to have lots of thoughts on the matter,” she sniped.

“Look, I can’t see the bloody future, but I can see that that one’s a dolt and you can do better, bitch or not. All I’m sayin’.”

Buffy pursed her lips and nodded. “Guess we’ll see.”

“Walsh seemed pretty enamored with you.”

“Exactly how long have you been watching me?” she asked, annoyed.

Spike shrugged. “Wanted to see how our little operation was going. You haven’t stopped by the old crypt in a while. I needed an update.”

“You are a very high maintenance partner,” Buffy murmured. “I’ve been… busy. And this thing with Professor Walsh took time to arrange. It requires patience— something you clearly have no concept of.”

It did take a couple days to arrange the weird try-out thing with Professor Walsh. But somewhat shamefully, Buffy had been spending lots of her time lately chatting with her new internet friend on the computer. They talked about nothing really. Nothing big or important anyway. And it was just nice. It was nice to have a low-stress, high-flirtation conversation with someone whose real life name she didn’t even know, someone whose heart she hadn’t broken, someone who expected nothing of her aside from some friendly banter. It was all just super stringless and carefree. That’s what she desperately needed right now.

“I can be patient,” Spike argued petulantly. 

Sarcastically, she said, “Yeah okay.”

He looked like he wanted to say something more, but he bit his tongue between his teeth and refrained, choosing to bitterly take another smoky inhale of his cigarette instead. “Not much else you can do tonight.” He stepped in close, cigarette bobbing between his lips. “Wanna go to my place? Kill some time?”

Buffy had had a feeling this conversation was going to inevitably lead back to his place and thus his bed. “I don’t know…”

“I think you do.” Spike trailed his fingers down her arm. He’d clearly learned that she liked that. He kept doing it.

Buffy sighed and looked up at him. She pinched the cigarette from his mouth, gave it a dirty look, and tossed it into the grass, which he seemed very amused by.

“You know, you’re kinda clingy for a guy who wants to kill me.”

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer I always say.”

She felt the flicker of a smile, and she looked away.

“Saw that,” he said.

“I have a lot of homework, Spike, and—”

“We could play a game.”

Buffy’s brow furrowed at that. “What kinda game?”

*****

“It’s almost like… you trust me,” Buffy said teasingly as she clicked the shiny handcuffs onto Spike’s wrists.

Spike narrowed his eyes. “You do have the key, right?”

She held up the little silver key and promptly tucked it into her bra, watching with delight as his blue eyes darkened, fixated on the low cut of her blouse.

“You’re very good at this game,” he complimented.

“Thank you!”

“Can’t think of any better way to prepare for our mighty ruse.” 

“Yes, we’re very diligent strategists.” She paused to roll her eyes at that. “Now be a good demon prisoner and sit on the bed.”

Spike grinned and complied immediately. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good!” Buffy pointed excitedly at him. “That’s very good. See? It’s not so hard to not be an evil jerk!”

“Mmm… it’s getting harder all the sudden.”

“Is it?” she asked innocently. Buffy leaned down and slid her hands up his denim-clad thighs, searching for the bulge she knew she’d find.

Spike inhaled sharply as she stroked him through his jeans. His voice came out all gravelly, “Who’s evil now?” 

“You. You are.” Buffy reached into the back waistband of her jeans and pulled out her stake, trailing the point down the center of Spike’s black t-shirt. “And before I turn you into the authorities, I think I need to punish you first. Slayer style.”

Blinking down at the stake and then up at her, he arched one brow and said, “You sure you’ve never done this before?”

Buffy froze, suddenly self-conscious. “Why? Am I doing it wrong? You said the key is to commit, so I was just—”

“No!” He chuckled. “No, you’re not doing it wrong at all. You were bloody born for this.”

She didn’t know how to feel about that. And, in fact, if she stopped to think about any of it she was pretty sure the whole thing would lose its appeal.

So she quickly unzipped his jeans and watched his cock sproing out. 

“Born to wrangle big bad vampires like yourself?” she said, trying to sound more confident than she was currently feeling as she knelt down in front of him. “You bet.”

Spike breathed a faint, “Bloody hell.”

“You seem…” Buffy used her stake to slowly trace the length of his shaft, intrigued by how it jumped at her touch. “Excited.”

“Mm.”

“You seem like… you want me.”

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes, exhaling audibly as she shucked his jeans all the way off.

“You’re not supposed to want me,” Buffy reminded him coquettishly. “It’s…very… very… wrong.”

Spike’s eyes opened, and they were so earnest and inquisitive and penetrating. Lightning all but blitzed between them in that moment. She felt the burning oomph of it so viscerally that she gasped, her stake-free hand digging into his naked thigh. Something like pride or wonder maybe flickered like candlelight in his eyes and he wouldn’t look away. That look was magnetic, and he wouldn’t look away. He wouldn’t look away.

Buffy felt a lot of things in that moment. Panic, confusion, rage, lust, intrigue, butterflies…

Senses swarming in, she lifted her stake with one swift move and pressed the point to his chest. Right over his heart. 

Spike’s chest was moving up and down rapidly like he was a person, but the heart inside was not the heart of a person at all and this was wrong— despite all eye-flickering and lip-licking and tummy-fluttering that indicated anything otherwise.

“I can’t let this H.S.T. out of my sight. I’m under direct orders. We’ve been looking for this thing for weeks. Professor Walsh needs it returned to her.”

“It?”

“You could just do it, you know,” Spike uttered, his gaze softening. “Could just… end this all right now.”

Buffy frowned and tightened her grip on the wood.

“The only one who cares ‘bout that chip is you.”

That might be true.

“Only one who’d notice or… miss me at all is…” He hung there for a moment. “You.”

Buffy thought about that and then said so weakly that even she wasn’t sure she believed it, “I wouldn’t miss you.”

Spike’s head cocked to one side a little, like he was having deep thoughts. It killed her, not knowing what he was thinking in this moment. What was he thinking? What was he ever thinking? How had they gotten here at all?

Would she miss Spike?

“Spike doesn’t taunt me. He— he bugs me. Sometimes. Like a fly. A fly I could squish— obviously— but I, um, I choose not to. Because there are other bugs out there who I need to squish. Dangerous, poisonous bugs who bite people. And Spike? He’s just a harmless little fly. So… I let him buzz around. Flying. And buzzing.”

“Thanks ever so, slayer— both for the flattering comparison and the lack of squishing.”

“Then do it,” Spike said firmly, straightening up in his seated position, taunting her by puffing out his chest like a bold gorilla. “Just do it, Buffy.”

“Don’t push me!” she snapped, the tip digging into his flesh.

“Maybe you need to be pushed.”

“Maybe your game sucks!” Buffy chucked the stake across the room, the sound of its clatter reverberating off the walls.

“Buffy.”

“Don’t ‘Buffy’ me! You don’t get to— you don’t know— ugh! God! I hate you!”

Spike shook his head, his eyes smug even as his face appeared cautious. His eyes were always so irritatingly smug, like he knew things she didn’t. “The bloody hell’s wrong with you, slayer?”

“Why’d you let that Hostile go, Buffy? It was teasing you. It was… an ass.”

“Because he’s not an ‘it.’”

Furious, Buffy dug down into her bra, found the little key, and tossed it at him. “You’re what’s wrong with me.”

*****

She ran the whole way back to her dorm room, hot tears in her eyes as she slammed the door shut behind her.

No Willow. She could use a Willow right about now. She’d tell her how crazy this all was, and she’d know the right thing to do and she’d say it with a cookie and a little supportive smile. Willow was so good at pointing out the badness of things without being judgy about it.

But Willow was always gone lately.

So Buffy flung open her laptop and messaged her new friend.

CaliBlonde81: Hey? Are you there?
CaliBlonde81: I guess your’e not there but I wish you were here…
CaliBlonde81: I could use someone to talk to

After waiting impatiently for ten minutes, Buffy gave up and started her nightly bedtime ritual.

Visions of Spike and his unfair eyes were haunting her. It was awful. And distracting. She put her cami on backwards before realizing it and turning it around in a huff. 

“Hate him,” she grumbled as she brushed her hair and stared at herself in the mirror. “I— hate— him. I hate him.”

Buffy crawled into bed, and she spent a lot of time that night pondering that crucial word.

Chapter 33

Notes:

It should be said more often, but I want to thank VioletMoon and bookishy for being such gracious sounding boards when I panic about plot corners I've backed myself into and ramble about this story and beg for ideas and wildly throw idea spaghetti around and ultimately do something else entirely. It must be so fun and satisfying for them! So we all owe them one or twenty because I guess it is just My Process, seeing as I've been doing this to them for years now.

He slid in when I wasn’t looking and he made me… care. Somehow. About him.

Sometimes I even get the feeling he cares! About me. 

Sometimes…

I don’t know though! I’ve never been less sure of anything. But last night, I felt things. Maybe even mutual things. I’m too scared to say what they even were. To think about it. Even if the whole point of this blog is to do just that. 

And what’s so annoying is I’m not a person who gets scared! Why should I? That’s not me. I’m not that girl. And he is definitely not the kind of guy who… who anyone should expose their anything to, let alone their heart.

UGH. I can’t believe I even said that. I am not in LOVE with him or anything. Please don’t think THAT. I just… I don’t know. It’s… an infatuation I guess? 

There’s just something about him, something there, something hard to explain with words. Words and me have always been a bit bluh anyway. But he makes it worse. He makes things beyond language. Everything becomes instinct and chemistry and sparks. Touches and looks that feel extra extra.

Which is great in the moment, it feels special and… great. But I know that kinda thing doesn’t last. So what’s the point?

Roller coasters are thrilling, but you have to get off them before you throw up.

Right?

 

thisisinsipid: Sorry I missed you lasst night

CaliBlonde81: Oh its okay. Just a weird night

thisisinsipid: Do tell
thisisinsipid: I read your blog…

CaliBlonde81: Yeah well that pretty much sums it up

thisisinsipid: You my dear are the master of saying nothing with many words

CaliBlonde81: Oh really?

thisisinsipid: Yeah really. If I’d BEEN that other guy, pretty sure I still wouldn’t have a clue hwat you’re trying to say

CaliBlonde81: Here I thought we were connecting or something

thisisinsipid: We are
thisisinsipid: Except it seems you’re enamored with him

CaliBlonde81: The problem si I can’t talk to him
CaliBlonde81: I can talk to you

thisisinsipid: Why? What would he do if you talked to him?

CaliBlonde81: Laugh I guess? mock me forever, and eventually kill me

thisisinsipid: Soudns extreme

CaliBlonde81: You don’t know this guy

thisisinsipid: Maybe you don’t either

CaliBlonde81: Says you?

thisisinsipid: I’m just saying… doesn’t sound like you’re being honest about yourself. You could have that in common

CaliBlonde81: Maybe…..

thisisinsipid: Tell all the truth but tell it slant 

CaliBlonde81: Ummmm… k

thisisinsipid: It’s a poem. Look it up

CaliBlonde81: You’re into poems?

thisisinsipid: They’re better than blogs

Buffy copied and pasted “Tell all the truth but tell it slant” into her search bar and a poem by Emily Dickinson popped up.

Tell all the truth but tell it slant —
Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth’s superb surprise
As Lightning to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind —

“Okie dokie…” she murmured to herself as she read it again.

CaliBlonde81: Your poem is cryptic and confusing and has a lot of weird capital lettres

thisisinsipid: It’s not MY poem
thisisinsipid: But… basically it means… tell the truth, but slowwly. Delicately. Some truths can’t be handled all at once

CaliBlonde81: Delicate isn’t really my specialty

The sounds of giggling and the door bursting open startled Buffy. Quickly she shut her laptop lid and looked up as Willow and Tara entered the room together.

“Hey!” Buffy greeted, trying not to sound too guilty of anything. Not that she’d done anything to feel guilty for. But still.

“Hey!” Willow said back in much the same way. She glanced at Tara a few times.

“Hey,” Tara said, a little more softly.

The three of them looked at each other awkwardly for a moment.

“Um, I’m actually, um, gonna g-go,” Tara said.

Buffy frowned. “But you just got here…”

“She was just walking me back,” Willow explained eagerly. “See you, Tara!”

Tara smiled. She always looked a little nervous, but this smile was especially twitchy.

When the door shut behind Tara, Buffy gave Willow an expectant look. “That was weird.”

Willow dropped her bag by her bed and slowly walked toward Buffy, her hands clasped. “That’s because… she knows I wanna… talk to you. About… something.”

“Oh,” Buffy said, surprised. “Okay. Talk to me. About something.”

“Well…” Willow sat down at the foot of Buffy’s bed and Buffy spun around in her desk chair to face her expectantly. “You see, it’s… about Tara.”

“Uh huh.”

“Um…” She let out a little whimper. “She’s really great, isn’t she?”

Buffy raised her eyebrows. “She definitely seems pretty all right in my book. You’re making me nervous though.”

“Nervous, why?” Willow squeaked.

“I don’t know! It sounds like you’re about to tell me she’s a vampire or a werewolf or something else I’m supposed to slay.”

“Oh! No! God, no. I mean, she’s a witch, of course, but we like those.”

“We do. Mostly. Sometimes.”

Willow made a conciliatory face and then shook her head. “Okay I’m just gonna say it. ‘Cause you are my friend, and you care about me and I can just… say it.”

Buffy bit her bottom lip, waiting for the dreadful revelation as Willow wrangled her own hands.

“Tara’s my…” 

Study buddy with all the answer keys? 

“She’s my…” 

Witchy friend who sucks the magical lifeforce out of slayers? 

“We’re um…” 

Starting a life of crime, plotting to rob a bank and overthrow the mayor?

Willow took a deep breath, eyes wide. “We’re… seeing each other.”

Buffy nodded slowly, reorienting her brain. “Like romantically? You’re seeing each other… like not-platonically?”

“Mhm.” She bit her lip.

“O-o-okay.”

“Okay?”

Willow’s hands were still fidgeting anxiously. Buffy reached forward and put one of hers on top, quelling the movement.

“Are you happy?” Buffy asked her.

She watched her friend’s eyes fill instantly with tears as she smiled. “Very.”

Buffy smiled back, stood up, then sat beside Willow on the bed and wrapped her arms around her. “I’m so happy she’s not a vampire— just your girlfriend!” She pulled back. “I mean, is she your… girlfriend?”

“I— I think we’ve been a little scared to… label it.”

“Fair. Totally fair. I so get that.” Thoughts of her secret/not-secret lover/husband/ex/enemy burst into her mind.

“So you’re not… freaked?” Willow cautiously pressed.

“Will, I am emphatically not freaked. I’m glad you told me. I’ve missed you lately. And I… I dunno, I felt you drifting away and hiding something and I didn’t understand it, but… this explains a lot and I'm just happy for you being happy.”

“No drifting! I’m here. All anchored and friendish. I was just… exploring something. Something… powerful.”

Buffy smiled and squeezed Willow’s hands, which she was still holding. “Powerful, huh?”

Willow looked off dreamily. “It’s hard to explain…”

“You don’t have to. I know just what you mean.”

Willow looked back at Buffy, lifting an inquisitive brow. Buffy just smiled nervously. 

“You know, Buffy, you can talk to me. I— I know we’ve been like passing ships lately— and what is with all the sea metaphors? — but it is a huge relief to me to… to finally tell you what I’ve needed to tell you. So, um, if things with Spike are… changing… um…”

“Things with Spike change on an hourly basis. It’s… really nothing worth reporting.”

“Okay. Sure. But if you wanted to report— even hourly— I’m here.”

Buffy nodded and thought about the previous night, the impossible to explain lightning bolt moment, the image of Spike in handcuffs…  “Thanks. I’ll, uh, keep that in mind.” After a beat she added, “Hey, so, can you think of anybody— in one of your classes maybe— who likes poetry and uses the word insipid… possibly?”

Willow’s face scrunched. “I don’t… think… so?”

“Kay. Just checking…”

*****

“The only one who cares ‘bout that chip is you. Only one who’d notice or… miss me at all is… You.”

Buffy went about her life.

She did homework. She schmoozed with Professor Walsh. She hung out with Xander and, of course, Willow and Tara, who were so painfully cute together Buffy wondered how the hell she hadn’t seen all the fireworks before now.

She patrolled, but she did it as fast as she could. There were no puns. There were no over-the-top acrobatics. 

And there were no secret lovers in the shadows watching her.

It was kind of depressing actually, so every night Buffy went through the motions, did her due diligence, and hurried back to her dorm as quickly as she could.

Where was he? Why wasn’t he… lurking? 

Was Spike actually mad at her? She’d given him the little handcuffs key before her dramatic oh no, emotions! storm out…

As much as she hated it, Buffy had to admit— silently and only to herself!— that she kind of wanted him to be lurking. She missed the banter, the back and forth, the suspense of what he’d pull next. It was… interesting. 

She could hate him and kind of miss the excitement of him. Right?

A least she had mystery internet guy. 

thisisinsipid: I can’t believe you’ve nevr seen Ghostbusters. What kind of American are you?

CaliBlonde81: If there were ghosts in my house, I wouldn’t be calling anyone to come bust them for me. I bust my own ghosts.

thisisinsipid: Aren’t you the independent woman
thisisinsipid: I’ve never cared much for ghosts

CaliBlonde81: Don’t worry. I’d protect you

thisisinsipid: That’s good to know

Buffy stared at the screen for a moment, tapping her fingernails lightly on her desk while she smiled and wondered innocently what this guy might look like.

CaliBlonde81: What’s your name? Your real name?

thisisinsipid: Uh oh. Looking to end the mystery?

CaliBlonde81: It’s not raelly fair… you know Willow and you’ve seen my pic so you must know me. But you’ve given ME nothing.

thisisinsipid: Nonsense. I’ve given you hours of pleasant conversation

CaliBlonde81: You know what I mean

thisisinsipid: I do

She looked at those two little words for a long moment, memories swarming into her mind like hornets.

“Bloody fuck yeah, I do.”

“I do, too.”

thisisinsipid: It’s nothing personal, love. Just makes me think you’ll stop talking to me if…

CaliBlonde81: If?

thisisinsipid: If things get real

“Love,” Buffy whispered aloud. thisisinsipid wasn’t normally so obviously affectionate. And unfortunately pet names like that only made her think of one person. One person whom she’d been desperately trying not to think of for about eight zillion reasons.

With a heavy sigh, Buffy decided to go patrol.

*****

It was shaping up to be another eventless night in the cemetery (another Spike-less night) until Buffy heard some clumsy shuffling through the dead leaves behind her.

She whirled around, stake raised and ready, but then lowered it when she saw who it was.

“Oh. Hi, Buffy.”

“Hey… Clem? It’s Clem, right?”

Clem nodded and sniffled a bit. “Yeah. Thanks for remembering.”

“No problem.” She took in the state of him: head hung, lack of goofy smile which she’d remembered vividly from her night at Willy’s with… “Are you… okay?”

Clem shrugged his shoulders. “I’m fine. It’s just… my pal, Steve. He… they got him.”

“Who?”

“Them. The nabbers.”

“Oh. Oh no,” Buffy said sympathetically.

Clem nodded and fiddled a bit with the ends of his blue plaid shirt. “Yeah… he was my best friend. I just hope he’s okay.” He gave Buffy a sheepish look. “Most demons don’t make it out like your husband did. Spike’s not really… typical.”

“No, he is not.”

“And I— I know you guys are still working on your secret plan and all, to take ‘em down. I don’t wanna mess you up or put any pressure on you, but… yeah, I’m really looking forward to it. Especially now. ” Clem gave her a hopeful look. “You’re probably the only two who could ever pull it off.”

Guilt crashed through her like a tidal wave. She’d forgotten that Spike— that idiot— had promised Clem and Steve that they were going to infiltrate the Initiative and end the entire operation. 

“Yeah…” Buffy said. “Yeah, it’s… proving to be kind of a tricky endeavor. But we are totally working on it.”

That was technically true. She was working on her relationship with Professor Walsh and the Initiative almost daily. She’d just been doing it for her own selfish reasons. The ‘must kill Spike ASAP’ and ‘I feel icky about myself’ selfish reasons.

“I figured,” Clem responded graciously. “If there’s anyone we can trust to keep their word, it’s the slayer, right?”

Buffy hesitated. “Yuh huh.”

“Great. Well, good luck. And, uh, let me know if you need any help. I’m at Willy’s most nights.”

“Kay. Will do,” she said softly as she watched him trudge off.

*****

Buffy’s interaction with Clem, her lack of interaction with Spike, the weird end to her interaction with thisisinsipid all left her with an uneasy feeling as she walked home that night.

Willow wasn’t there when Buffy got back, but it didn’t bother her so much now that she knew her roomie had a new and adorable love connection. It just would have been nice if Willow had been there to… dispel the quiet.

That’s what Buffy was thinking when she pulled her “yummy sushi!” pajamas on and heard a sharp knock at her door.

She checked the time. 11:44pm. That was never good.

Slightly self-conscious about her attire, Buffy opened the door to find Spike standing solemnly— and conspicuously— in the hallway. 

Reflexively, she grabbed him by the lapels and tugged him into her dorm room before anyone could see the bleached punk guy in leather at her door at nearly midnight.

“Bloody hell, woman!” 

“What are you doing here?!”

Spike let out a little huff and smoothed out his leather coat. Buffy was definitely feeling more self-conscious about the jammies now…

He gave her a distrustful look. “I… have to tell you something.”

She put her hands on her hips.

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist now. I was… tryin’ to do the right bloody thing.”

Buffy snorted. “Since when?”

“Since—!” He growled his frustration. “Do you have to be such a bitch all the time?”

“Just spit it out already, Spike.”

His face turned serious, nervous even, as he looked down at his dirty boots. “The commandos. They, uh… they got Giles.”

That was not anything close to what she’d expected him to say. That she couldn’t even comprehend. That made no sense.

Spike lifted his eyes to gauge her reaction, hesitating only slightly at the look of dismay and what-the-hell that must have been all over her face. “I— I tried to save him, but they’re all human, o’ course. Couldn’t fight ‘em. So—”

“Giles is human. Giles is good. Why the hell would the Initiative take Giles?!”

“Right. ‘Bout that…” Spike scratched the back of his head. “Your watcher’s gone demon— Fyarl to be specific. Ran into him ‘n I was the only one who could bloody understand him. Was kinda funny at first. But, uh, he said his mate Ethan had done it to him.”

“Ethan? Ethan Rayne? He’s not supposed to be here—”

“Well, he is here. And he turned ole Rupes into an ugly bloody monster who can't speak a lick of English.”

“So… Giles got turned into a demon. He can’t talk. And now… the Initiative— the guys who experiment on demons— they have him? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Pretty much.”

Heart racing, stress building, Buffy began pacing her little room. “What— what is wrong with you?! Why the hell didn’t you guys come to me?! I’ve just been la la la-ing through my life, not a word from anyone for days and days! Not that I was bothered or anything, but this— this whole thing could’ve been prevented I bet!”

Spike stuffed his hands into his pockets and looked away guiltily. “It only happened tonight…”

“Yeah, well, you still didn’t come to me! When you should’ve! Which is right away!” Buffy yelled, a hysterical edge to her voice. “You didn’t come ‘til it was too late!”

He pointed dramatically with his finger. “He didn’t want me to!”

“You’re lying! Of course Giles would want my help!”

Spike shook his head. “Giles thinks you’ve flown the nest. Didn’t want to bother you with his embarrassing fuck up. And— well, I thought you don’t speak Fyarl and I bloody well do, so I decided outta the goodness o’ my heart and not for money to help the poor bastard—”

“Help him get captured!? Way to go, Spike! Ugh!”

“Fuck you. I should’ve known you’d react this way. Bloody fucking hell.” He reached into his inner coat pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

Buffy snatched them from his hand and glared up at him. “Are you freaking kidding me right now? You also want to set off the fire alarm in my dorm? Would that just be the cherry on top of the perfect evening for you?!”

Spike looked down his nose at her with the ferocity of a caged lion. “Fine. I’m leaving. Seein’ as you’re the big hero ‘n you don’t need my help anyhow.”

He made it two steps before Buffy seized his arm and he looked back at her, head cocking to one side.

“No, Spike. You are not walking away from this mess. And we are not leaving Giles in that place for God knows what to happen to him.”

“What’re you proposing, slayer?”

Buffy took a deep breath and released his arm. “What else? We’re going in and we’re getting him out. Tonight.”