Love as a State of Mind
by Jeni and Kari Mouke 


Chapter 1: Welcome to the Hellmouth: by Jeni


Spike kept his foot heavy on the accelerator as the ‘Welcome to Sunnydale’ sign loomed closer in view, determined to begin and end this little trip with a bang. He cursed as the DeSoto rammed into the sign with the screech of metal meeting metal, grinning manically as his girl won battle, rolling mercilessly over the now flattened sign and on into the small town.


He patted her dashboard lovingly. “There’s my girl, always ready for a rough and tumble, yeah?” He smirked and drove on taking in the town that would have been more appropriately named, Sunny Hell, had anyone been honest enough to give it that name.


The town looked just like any other small Californiatown. Little shops lined the deceptively quiet streets, the coffee house was doing a swift business, and a blare of music belched its way out of the door of a small night club as patrons entered or exited; all the little ‘happy meals’ going on with their normal lives, unknowing about or denying the skeletons in the closet of their sleepy little town.  


Spike, however, didn’t have the luxury of not knowing or of denial.  He was all too aware of the particular ‘skeleton’ that lurked in the closet of Sunnydale; hell, he was related to it.  His full lips curled in disgust as he thought of his great-great-grand sire.  It had been close to hundred years since he had thought about the old geezer.  It had been shortly after he was turned that he, Dru, and Angelus had met up with Darla in Los Angeles.  Her precious Master had been trapped inside the Hellmouth and she had been devastated.  Angelus had drug them all to Sunnydale in hopes of freeing the Master and winning back the affections of his Sire, but it had been to no avail.  


The Hellmouth kept its prisoner secure and a prophecy was born about a time in the future when the blood of innocents would run and the Master would arise for a thousand year reign.  Spike, at the time a brash young vampire, had laughed in the old fart’s face, flipped him off, and wrapped his arm around Drusilla, leading her out of the cavern and into the night.  After all, a hundred years was a long time to the young, not yet a master, vampire, and really he had no care for tradition or family other then his Sire and Grand-Sire.  Darla could come along or stay in hell with the old man for all he cared; she was a right bitch.


Spike had spent the last hundred years of his existence leaving a bloody swath across Europewith his dark Princess.  Angelus and Darla had both buggered off not long after their first visit to the Hellmouth and it had been all he could do to handle Drusilla’s insanity at the desertion of her dear Daddy. In Chinahe had come up against and killed his first Slayer.  Dru had come back to herself some then, dancing in the Chinese Slayer’s blood and fucking him on her corpse.


Spike sighed, as he drove through town, on the lookout for vamp-friendly place to stay for the day. It was because of his dark Princess that he was here now.  She had not been well since that bloody mob in Prague, becoming more lost in her-self everyday.  She wouldn’t feed and nothing but her blasted dolls held any interest to her, and then last week she began to dream of the Master.  It was time she said, the time the prophecy had foretold of all those years ago.  The Master would rise and reign in blood for a thousand years.  He would succeed in bringing hell to earth and Spike would be damned if he let that happen.  He liked the earth just the way it was, and that sodden bastard wasn’t going to bring about the end of it.   


He had packed his bag with clothing and his car with weapons, he had gotten one of his smarter minions to mind Dru for him, and he had headed to the Hellmouth to make sure his great-great Grandsire stayed in hell where he belonged.


Spike had just circled around the block and was heading back down the street near the club when his senses went wild.  He slowed the car down and eased to the curb.  Lighting a smoke he got out of the car and sent his demon searching the night, trying to get a handle on whatever it was that was setting his senses off.


His sensitive ears picked up light hurried footsteps coming towards him, as well as the overlay of a heavier tread, what ever was coming was the thing that had set off his senses.  As a small blonde haired girl stepped into the alleyway, he pinched the burning cigarette between his thumb and forefinger and ducked into the darker shadows, becoming perfectly still in the way that only a dead man can.


His demon howled as the young girl stopped in the center of the alley, her eyes flashing in the low light, nostrils flaring in the way of a predator sensing its prey.  He watched, eyes widened, as she easily jumped to catch a pipe running between the two buildings and swung herself up into a perfect handstand, unwavering and poised for fight.  No wonder his senses were screaming at him.  She was a fucking Slayer, one of the most beautiful he had seen certainly, and as he continued to watch, he began to think that she would be the most deadliest as well.


As the girl maintained her stance, the heavier sound of boots striking pavement could be heard in the silence.  Spike once again, had to keep himself from betraying his position as the second set of footsteps revealed their owner.  Bloody, fucking hell if it wasn’t Angelus.  Angelus stopped directly below the girl, as if searching for her.  Spike thought briefly about warning him of the danger, but shrugged it off; he owed the bastard nothing.  


The girl swung gracefully downward from her handstand and caught Angelus squarely between the shoulder blades with enough force to knock him down.


She was on him in a minute, fist drawn back. “Why are you following me?” She questioned.  Her voice carried clearly to where Spike still hid.


Angelus merely raised his hands in the age-old gesture of surrender.  “I wasn’t.” Spike nearly snorted. What the bloody hell was the git playing at?


The girl eased off of the older vampire, keeping her fighting stance, but allowing him to get up.  “If you weren’t following me, then why did you stop?”


“I thought I heard something.  What are you doing out here anyway? It’s dangerous for young girls to be out in the dark”


She dropped her stance and brushed off the knees of her pants, “Yeah, well I can take care of myself.  Who are you?”


Spike rolled his eyes.  This was down right boring.  Where was the violence, the bloodshed, the ashes of the Poof blowing in the wind?  He watched puzzled as the scene played out.


Angelus stretched his hand towards the girl, on his finger was a silver chain and at the end dangled a silver cross. “I’m a friend.”


What the bloody hell? Why would Angelus give the girl a cross, let alone tell her he was her friend. Last time he checked they ate Slayers not befriended them.  The girl’s heartbeat sped up as she reached out a cautious hand towards the necklace.  Angelus’ heart didn’t beat of course, but Spike could tell how important this was to the older vampire by the way his scent changed.  


Angelus looked almost bashful as the girl accepted the necklace, “Thanks, but I have all the friends I need.”


The dark-haired vampire let out a sigh, “Yeah, well, I didn’t say I was your friend.” And with that cryptic remark he disappeared into the night.


Spike watched as the girl looked at the spot where Angelus had been standing and then back to the necklace, before she casually hooked it around her neck.  He stayed hidden until her little feet took her around the corner of the building and into the club.


Only then did he step away from the wall and re-lit his fag, inhaling and blowing out a stream of angry smoke.  What the bloody hell had just happened here?  He could understand why the Slayer was here, Hellmouth and all, but what game was Angelus playing?  Why try to get in good with the Slayer?  Spike tossed his cigarette down angrily and strode to where he had left his car and got in slamming the door shut with more force then necessary.  He needed to find a place to stay and figure out what was going on.  He had come to Sunnydale because Dru had said the Master was rising, but had she also known that her precious Daddy was here?


What the bloody fuck was going on?



Chapter 2:  Don’t Talk To Strangers by Kari


Buffy wondered as she walked home what had been up with the guy in the alley.  He’d made her feel way weird.  He set her slayer sense off, like a vamp, only not.  And the necklace?  Who just gives a girl they don’t know a necklace?  Not that it wasn’t a nice necklace, ‘cause it was, but he hit a major high on the weirdo meter with that one.  And that friends remark!  Whose friend was he then?  The worst part about it all, the part that made her want to track him and down give him a good kick in the shins, was that she’d felt something tonight.  Something else.  Something deeper.  Something that sat on the edges of her senses.  It called to her, but thanks to tall, dark, and forehead, she hadn’t been able to answer.


She heaved herself over the windowsill and into the confines of her bedroom.  Some nights it was a sanctuary, but tonight it just didn’t seem to fit her skin.  She got that a lot since she was called.  Willow would refer to it as the ‘wiggins’, but that wasn’t right.  It was different than that, more elemental.  She stripped her clothes off, leaving them in an untidy pile on her bedroom floor.  Tomorrow was laundry day.  She could pick them up then.


She walked over to her bureau and pulled out her jammies and a clean pair of underwear.  She so needed to go shopping.  There was nothing wrong with the solid white cotton her mother bought her, but every once in a while she longed for something a little more wild.  Not that anyone would be seeing her unmentionables anytime soon.  The boyfriend well had pretty much dried up with her calling.


Throwing on her terrycloth robe, she made her way out of her bedroom and into the bathroom.  She felt herself begin to relax at just the thought of a long, lovely bath.  Steam was such a wonderful thing.  A girl could really forget her troubles in a nice cloud of hot scented air.  It was the only time she could just let herself go, to drift, to dream.  And in her dreams she could be anything.  She could have anything.  She turned on the water and plugged the tub.


While she waited for it to fill, she brushed her teeth, washed her face, and pulled up her long, blonde hair.  She studied herself in the mirror.  She was a girl.  She was a slayer.  Why did those terms seem so inadequate when describing her?  She shook her head in dismissal of her thoughts and dropped her robe.


She stepped into the water and sank down.  Ah… heaven.  Blissful, warm, soapy goodness.  She thought of him as she laid there, her head thrown back, eyes closed.  She always thought of him.  She’d tried to imagine the hottie of the day like other girls.  Brad Pit.  Christian Slater.  Heck, even the Sunnydale quarterback.  Nothing.  Nothing ever came.  It was only him.  It was only for him that she could dream.


She slipped a soapy hand between her thighs and into her hidden folds.  This is where she always found him.  The faceless man of her dreams.  When she was honest with herself she could admit it wasn’t her calling that stopped her from finding a boyfriend.  It was him.  She told herself it was okay.  She was young.  She could wait.  Maybe he was really out there and not just a figment of her imagination.  But then she would remember that she came with an expiration date, she couldn’t wait.  Wait and it was all over.  End of story.  End of Buffy.


He was always here, though.  In the place behind her eyelids.  The dark world that consisted of just the two of them.  He made her every fantasy come true in the most deliciously wicked ways.  She may not be able to see him, but she could feel him, almost hear him, and always, but always, she could taste him.  He sat upon her tongue.  Rich, dark, and forbidden.  Like the port her grandfather used to let her sip at Christmas.



This time, she imagined it had been him in that alley.  She was the first to talk.  The first to break the rules.  ‘Don’t talk to strangers’ her mother always said.  ‘Hello, stranger,’ she’d quip, knowing as she said it that it was a lie.  They couldn’t be strangers.  It’s impossible not to know the other half of yourself.  That’s when he moves.  Fast as a snap.  As fast as a slayer.  Wham!  She was against the alley wall.  His hands on her ass.  She was wearing a flimsy skirt this time.  It was just easier.


“You talkin’ to me, Slayer?” he growled as he pushed his rock hard erection against her panties.  Her skirt had ridden up.  There was nothing but a thing layer of cotton and denim between them.


“Do you see anyone else in this alley?” she growled back with her arms wrapped around his neck.  He doesn’t answer her, he just leans down and captures her lips with his own, his tongue a hot, probing thing seeking entry.  She invites him.  The kiss is glorious, but it leaves her wanting more.  So much more.  She grinds herself against him, needing friction, needing him.


“Baby wants to play?” he asks, as he uses his chest to hold her against the wall.  His hands free to open his fly.


She feels it when he’s there, hovering on the outside of her now soaked panties.  She removes one hand from his neck and reaches down to rip the offending garment from her body.  No barriers.  Never with him.  She tosses them in the air, but in a move of preternatural grace, he snaps them up, shoving them in his pocket.  “Mine,” he says triumphantly, and she thinks he means so much more than just the panties.


Now it’s just him and her.  He rubs his length against her outside in one long glide to coat himself with her juices.  Then he enters.  There’s no real warning.  One moment she is alone in her body and the next she’s filled.  She thinks she’s reached nirvana.  That is until he starts moving.  Then she knows she’s not even close.  She can feel herself building towards something.  Something incredible.  Something beyond mere sex.  She’s almost there.  So close.  So close.  Just need….


His face shifts and he sinks his fangs into the side of her neck, pushing her into the most unbelievable orgasm of her life.  She quakes and shudders around him as he pulls her blood down and fills her with his seed, intermingling their essences.  She’s complete.


Buffy opened her eyes and gasped for air.  Oh shit.  She’d just had a sexual fantasy about a vampire.  Never before.  It was always him, but never before had he been a vamp.  Or at least she hadn’t thought about it.  Oh shit.  She was in so much trouble.  What kind of sick slayer was she to get off thinking about some unknown vamp?  That was it.  She had to stop fantasizing and find a real man.



Chapter 3:  Strangers in the Night: By Jeni


Spike had spent a restless day in an old factory, where his sleep was interspersed with bloody dreams of Angelus, Dru and Darla in their glory days and surprisingly, dreams of the blonde Slayer.  He slammed the door to the DeSoto and this time went towards the entrance of the club.  He needed to feed and the pulsing atmosphere of a club always made his demon happy.  All those hot, young bodies, writhing against one another, working themselves into a frenzy of passion, spilling their pheromones into the dark heat of the club, and calling to him, just waiting for him to decide which one to seduce, which one to make a meal of.  He was also hoping to see more of the Slayer, and figured the club to be as likely a place as any. 


He paid the cover and went through the security check, he had weapons, but they weren’t the kind a metal detector could detect.  He edged through the crowd on the edge of the dance floor and sauntered to the bar.


“JD, Mate, double.” he drawled when the bartender came to take his order.  When the drink was placed in front of him, he tossed it back, blue eyes never leaving the surrounding throng of people, trying to decide on which one to cull from the herd.  His icy gaze settled on a long-limbed brunette, tasty looking little thing, oozing with sex appeal and smelling of arousal. 


He slipped in behind the girl as she danced, running cool hands over over-heated flesh causing her to shiver and spin around in surprise.  Her dark eyes looked at him for a long moment, taking his measure, skimming him from the top of his bleached locks, to the soles of his Doc Martins and lingering everywhere in between. When she looked back into his eyes, lustful expression on her pretty face, he smirked and quirked an eyebrow in question.  She nodded and took his hand leading him from the dance floor and out the back entrance and into the alley that he recognized from last night.


He said nothing as he pushed her up against the bricks, this type of girl knew the score, and talking wasn’t a part of it.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and he lifted her up easily, long, tanned legs wrapping around his waist, smashing his mouth to hers. He wasn’t surprised when he slipped his hand under her skirt to find that she wasn’t wearing panties. He smirked as he felt her hand go to his zipper and she smirked back when she discovered his own lack of underwear.


Without preamble he shoved himself inside, groaning at the heat of her. He felt the bones in his face shifting out of his control and buried his face in the crook of her neck; licking and nibbling the pulsing vein he found there, foreplay for the actual killing bite. He pounded into her wet hole, grinding against her clit each time he seated himself to the hilt, causing her to moan loudly in his ear and clutch the leather of his duster with sharp blood-red nails.  Yeah, he was going to drain her, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t get her off before he did, he was a considerate bloke after all.


He felt her pussy tighten around him and he increased his thrusts, angling his cock to stroke that hidden spot inside her. She keened in his ear and came, her sheath milking his cock and making his balls clench in preparation to release his load.  He roared as he began to cum, sinking his fangs into her soft skin savagely, taking long pulls of her life-giving blood.  With every pull he felt her have another orgasm; continuing even as he felt her heart skip a beat.  He pulled out of her with his cock, taking the last of her blood at the same time, before tossing her now dead body onto the filthy ground.


He shook his demon face off and started to straighten himself out, when he heard a husky voice behind him.


“So, do you always fuck your dinner, or was she someone special?”


He turned to face the petite, blonde Slayer, tucking his semi-erect cock back in his jeans and zipping them up.  He took the time to pull a cigarette from the pack and light it. He paused when he heard her slight gasp, before flicking the lighter closed and replacing it in his duster pocket before answering her. “You wanna find out for yourself, Slayer?”


She ran hazel eyes over him, much the same as his kill had done earlier.  When she raised her eyes back to his, they were cold. “Thanks for asking, but no, Vampire.”

Buffy worked hard to control her reaction to the vampire standing before her.  She was sick both physically and mentally at what she had witnessed and with the realization that her dream man was real and a demon.


“You made a mistake coming into my town and killing, it will be the last thing you ever do.” She challenged angrily.


He raised his scared eyebrow at her. “Really, Luv, ‘cause I think I’ve all ready killed two of your kind. What makes you think you can take me?”


“Because its what I do, who I am; Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and everyone knows that at the end of the day white hats always win over black hats.” She pulled her stake from her waistband and readied herself for the attack.


“In fairy tales maybe, Luv, but this here? This is real life, and in real life the monsters aren’t in your closet or under your bed, they’re in the mouth of hell right under your pretty feet.  You have more than me to worry about, Slayer, you have the Master and The Harvest. Are you ready for it, Buffy the Vampire Slayer?” He mocked.


Buffy looked at him, puzzled. “What are you talking about? Who are you?”


“William the Bloody, or Spike; look me up, Slayer, under Bloody, William, the; we’ll talk again, Pet.” He eased back into the shadows of the building and with preternatural speed disappeared into the night.


Buffy stamped her foot, frustrated. “What’s with these vampires? All talky, no action...and, and all mysterious with their disappearing into the dark. Stupid vampires. Well at least this one wasn’t all brooding and forehead.”  She tried to quip her way out of the mood she was settling in, the blond vampire had struck a cord deep inside of her, she knew him in some elemental way, and that scared her. She sighed and looked at the dead girl that bleached blond vampire had left behind and went inside the Bronze to arrange for the police to find the body.




“Tell me again, Buffy, what did you say his name was?” Giles asked, pulling a Watcher’s diary off of the bookcase and flipping through it.


“He said his name was William the Bloody, or maybe Spike?  I don’t understand Giles. Last night was the second night in a row that I’ve come across vampires that have wanted to talk rather than fight.  And this one tonight, he said something about the Master and the harvest? Granted, I had just saw him kill someone so maybe he was just trying to distract me...” she trailed off, blushing as she remembered what else the vampire had been doing to his victim before he killed her.  She didn’t think Giles really needed to know that and in any case there was no way in hell she was telling him.


“Oh dear, he spoke of the Master and the Harvest?” He scrubbed his glasses lens with his handkerchief, before replacing them and exchanging books.  “I think there’s a...” he trailed off as he read for a moment before turning to look at Buffy, “there’s a prophecy here, in the codex.” He read it to her, “In the year that a warrior for the light arrives at the mouth of hell, the Master will rise and put out the light, the blood of innocents will run on that day that ushers in the thousand year reign death.


“Okay, you lost me after the ‘master will rise and put out the light’. What light? Me? I’m the light?  I get to die? Oh goody, I so love prophecies.”



Chapter 4:  Helping Hands by Kari


“I’m here.  To help,” he said as he walked beside her. 

She turned to look at him.  “Why?”  He’d told her a few times over the last couple of days, but she just wasn’t getting it.  Truthfully, she just wasn’t getting him.  There was something about him that left her… Flaccid.  Could girls be flaccid?   

“I told you.  I want redemption.  Everything I said to your Watcher was the truth.  I want redemption and it’s all because of you.  I saw you… and I just knew.  You were the one.  The one I could change for,” he said ardently. 

She looked away from him.  “Huh,” she huffed, kicking at a loose rock as they patrolled through the cemetery.  He’d come to the library three days ago.  He had told her and Giles this tale of gypsies, souls, struggle, blah, blah, blah…  Buffy tuned out most of it.  Her thoughts wandering back to the blonde vampire.  Mister Hump and Hunt.  She couldn’t decide which upset her more.  The fact that he’d killed a slightly innocent girl, or that he’d fucked her first.  She really needed to get her priorities straight. 

The cemetery gates were before them.  “May I… Should I walk you home?” Angel asked her. 

“Nope.  Completely not necessary.  You’re sorta the thing that I traditionally avoid on the way home.  You know, duty over.  No more vamps.  It’s a thing,” Buffy finished lamely.  She really just wanted him to leave so that she could continue on her night in peace.  She liked to clear her head of all the demon stuff before she entered the house.  Kind of like a metaphysical wiping of the soul on a big front door mat in her mind.   

“Sure, I understand,” he told her as he looked down at her with what she feared was tenderness.  “Good night then,” he said softly. 

“Night,” Buffy said back, edging quickly away from him.  No tenderness!  He had to stop with the tenderness right now.  She was the Slayer and that was just icky and wrong.  Blue eyes flashed inside her head.  Okay, sometimes it could be icky, wrong, and incredibly hot.  Once again she was reminded of how desperately she needed a man.  Maybe she should head to the Bronze instead of home.  Have a little dance.  Find a real live guy with a heartbeat and stuff.  Just take him out back and… and so not do what she’d seen that Spike guy, uh vamp, do.  Look where he’d lead her thoughts.  He was corrupting her with his mere presence in her town.   

She headed home with renewed determination.  She would so not think of him tonight.  She turned onto the street right before Revello when a very distinct sound caught her ears.  It was the sound of fighting.  She gave a sigh of frustration and headed towards its source.  It seemed to be coming from a backyard.  She saw an opening in a hedge that ran along the fence and she peeked in.  Fists, fang, and a whole lot of Fyarl.  Before she knew it she was launching herself over the fence and into the fray. 

“Need help, Thumper?” Buffy asked the bleached boinker as she knocked out one of his opponents.  It appeared to be seven Fyarl demons to one little vampire.  She let out her senses a little, searching for anything else she needed to be aware of.  Nope.  Just seven baddies and one lone vampire. 

“Help!  From a Slayer.  I should think not,” Spike yelled, and he would have yelled more as he was highly insulted by the thought, but a meaty fist to his jaw shut him up.  Who was he kidding?  He needed the help.  He’d been steadily getting his ass kicked for the last ten minutes.   

Buffy flipped over the head of one the attackers and landed behind him, shoving her stake into where she was pretty sure his heart was.  She watched as the big lug crumpled to the ground.  “You know,” she hollered out as she took on another one, “my favorite thing about you vamps is the handy way you clean up after yourselves.” 

Spike managed to take down another demon despite the current crushed state of his left hand and his very broken ribs.  “So glad we can accommodate you, Slayer.” 

“Duck!” Buffy yelled as she saw the demon she’d knocked unconscious the first round rise up and try to remove Spike’s head with a rock. 

Spike ducked and struck out his leg at the same time, sending the attacker to the ground.  He reached down, grabbed the rock out of its hands and used it to crush its own skull in.  It was quite satisfying.  Keeping the rock in his hands, he turned on the next one.  The Slayer was in his sights the whole time.  She was bloody amazing.  He’d never seen anything like it.  He’d fought and killed two Slayers in his time, but neither of them had been grace in motion.  Not to mention that neither of them would have come to his rescue.  He wondered what the hell she was thinking. 

Soon all the Fyarls were nothing but fescue fodder.  Buffy wiped her hands on her pants and looked over at the stunned vampire with a wicked grin.  “You’re welcome,” she crooned before heading back to the fence and jumping over. 

“Wait a tick,” Spike called after her.  He did his own jump, but the state of his ribs caused him to flinch in on himself ever so slightly, making his landing both clumsy and painful.  He sucked in a deep, unneeded breath, and had to seriously push back the tears that threatened to rise up. 

“You’re hurt,” Buffy said, walking over to him in concern. 

“Course I’m hurt, you daft bint.  As if I’d need your help if I wasn’t hurt!” He’d meant it to sound tough, but he was pretty sure the whine in his voice cut down on the big bad routine. 

She sighed and took his hand in hers.  “This is bad.  I can’t believe you were able to heft that rock with your hand like this.  It needs to be bound, and you’ve obviously busted your ribs.  They’ll need to be bound as well,” she said solemnly. 

Spike just looked at her.  “You’re nuts.  You know that, right?”  He made no move to pull his hand away.  It hurt, but there was something comforting about having it rest inside hers.  “What?  You gonna invite me back to your place for some first aide, Slayer?” 

Buffy dropped his hand and enjoyed the hiss of pain she got in response.  “I was thinking more along the lines of going back to your place, blood breath.  But clearly, you don’t want my help.  Good luck with the healing, vampire,” she said derisively as she turned to resume her walk home. 

“Wait!” Spike called out again.  “I…”  Was he actually going to ask a Slayer for help?  Yes, he was.  “I don’t mind if you help me.”  Well, it was almost like asking. 

Buffy was glad her back was to him.  She didn’t think the gloating smile on her face would sit well with the obviously proud creature behind her.  She took a minute to reign in her grin, and then she turned around.  They easily fell into step with one another.  After having to increase her pace over the last couple of days in an effort to keep up with Angel, Buffy thought it was kind of nice to walk next to someone more her size.  Forbidden thoughts of other things that they would be the right size for entered her twisted little brain.  She fruitlessly tried to will back the sudden moisture that pooled between her thighs.  Why was she such a freak? 

Spike instantly smelled the Slayer’s arousal.  Not one to leave such a thing alone, he spoke up snidely, “Whatcha thinkin’ about, pet?” 

“Angel,” Buffy answered, increasing her pace. 

Spike growled, low in his throat.  He didn’t know why, but the thought of her getting aroused thinking of that prat really pissed him off.  It was Dru.  It had to be Dru.  He couldn’t honestly care who got the Slayer’s rocks off.  It was just a gut response to the way Drusilla always lusted over the overgrown Neanderthal.  “I know he’s been helping you these last couple of nights.  Smelled the both of you.  He likes to play with his victims before he goes in for the kill.  Just a warning, luv.  You did me a good turn tonight.  It doesn’t make us bosom buddies or anything, but I thought I should warn ya.” 

Buffy huffed.  “Please.  You don’t think I could take him?  He lives off rats or something.  Plus, he’s all brooding and yearning.  And tall.”  She looked at Spike.  “Don’t’ you think he’s like way too tall.  And big.  Way too big, too.” 

Spike gave her a distinct look of annoyance.  “He’s not that big.” 

Buffy’s eyes grew wide when she realized what he was referring to.  “Eww!  As if.  He’s a vampire.  Ick!” 

Spike went from pleased that she wasn’t getting all hot and bothered over his grand-sire to offended in half a second flat.  “What do you mean ick?  I’m a vampire, and I’ll have you know the ladies never find me anything but amazing,” he said defensively. 

Buffy laughed.  “Yeah, right.  The one the other night seemed to be having a great time.” 

“She did.  I’m always a gentleman.  Gave it to her good before I killed her,” he said sincerely. 

Buffy just stared at him.  “You’re serious.  You are totally serious,” she whispered and then shook her head.  “Sometimes I forget you guys are just demons.  That you can’t feel.  No guilt.  Why aren’t I staking you?” 

Spike didn’t like her words.  He didn’t like them at all.  He wasn’t just a demon.  What did she mean by that anyway?  He felt.  He felt a lot.  Too much, in fact.  Okay, he never felt guilty, but he was a demon and…  He was a demon.  Was that all he was?  He decided to dismiss that train of thought and concentrate on her last words.  “Why aren’t you staking me?” 

Buffy looked away.  “I have no clue,” she lied.  “Where are we headed, anyway?” she asked in an effort to change the subject. 

“My motel room.  Nothing fancy but it does the trick.  Thick curtains and housekeeping that truly understand the ‘do not disturb’ sign,” Spike told her.  “It’s just down the corner.” 

“Ick!  That’s the Sunnydale Arms.  I can’t believe you’re staying there.  It’s…”  She was at a loss for words. 

“It’s ick?  Is that the word you’re looking for, Slayer?” Spike asked irritably as he fished in his pockets for the room key. 

Buffy saw that they were almost to the motel.  She also saw that she’d offended him by her ‘ick’ comment.  “Look, it’s not that I find you icky.  I don’t.  I should and I don’t,” she said honestly.  “It’s just the whole Slayer and vampire thing.  I’m supposed to find you guys icky.  And Angel is icky.  He’s oddly intense.  It gives me the willies.” 

Spike stopped in front of his motel room door.  “This is it.”  He put the key in the lock and pushed the door open. 

Buffy relaxed her senses.  No vamps beside the obvious one.  She walked in after him, shutting the door behind her.  She grimaced as he flipped the lights on.  “It was so much better in the dark,” she told him. 

Spike laughed.  He liked this girl.  She was saucy.  “Not better in the dark, kitten.  Then you can hear the cockroaches.” 

She leapt a foot in the air and landed on the bed, looking furiously at the floor.  Spike couldn’t help himself.  He burst into laughter at the fear that came off her.  She’d faced what nearly amounted to a herd of Fyarl demons earlier without so much as a whiff of fear, and now here she was terrified of some bugs.  “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, pet.  I was just havin’ at ya.” 

Buffy relaxed.  “Okay.  I should have known.  Evil vampire.  What’s with all the pet names by the way?” 

“Pet names?  Oh, like ‘pet’ and what not.”  He shrugged.  “Don’t know.  ‘S just me.  Something I do.  Never thought about it.”  Spike remembered something from earlier.  “Speaking of pet names, what was up with the ‘thumper’ comment earlier?” 

Buffy got on her knees on the bed and made several telling jerking motions with her hips.  “You know, Thumper.  It’s just what you reminded me of when…”  The utterly horrified look that came over the vampire’s face caused her to burst into her own round of laughter. 

Spike pointed a finger at her.  “That’s just…  Oh, wrap me up, woman, and shut up,” he said sulkily. 

Buffy sobered instantly as she caught site of his pouting lip.  The moisture was back.  She pressed her legs together in some kind of desperate attempt at relief. 

Spike sniffed the air.  Okay, no mistaking it this time.  She was aroused, and he seriously didn’t think she was thinking of the poof at the moment.  He’d show her a thing or two about his thumping capabilities, if only his ribs weren’t so damn sore.  “Aren’t you suppose to be doing some Florence Nightingale routine or something?” he asked irritably. 

Buffy looked down at the floor trying hard to cover her blush.  Did he sense that she was attracted him?  Did it disgust him?  Was that why he was suddenly all grumpy guy again?  “Do you have a first aide kit or anything?” she asked quietly. 

“In the bathroom.  There’s a bag on the floor.  It has all my stuff in it.  There’s a yellow box.  It’s first aid.  Now, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna quit yapping.  As long as I don’t talk, I don’t have to breathe,” he explained. 

“Right, sorry,” she mumbled as she went into the bathroom to get the box.  She walked in and noticed he’d covered up the mirror.  Strange.  She shrugged and bent down to riffle through the bag.  She found the box and walked back in the room and over to the now quite vampire. 

“Look, I’m going to rip the shirt off of you.  I think it will be less painful then trying to have you raise your arms up.  Okay?” she asked.  At his slight nod, she tore the shirt off like it was made of paper.  The sight that met her nearly made her gag.  “Shit, Spike.  Were they purposefully aiming for your ribs?  I didn’t even know vampires could bruise this badly.”  She got out a roll of wrapping and began the painful process of binding his ribs.  Other than a few sharp hisses, he was quiet.  When she was done she took his hand in hers again. 

“Think I’m going to need something for this, luv,” he said to her. 

“What?” she asked.  Surely, he wouldn’t be asking her for blood?  The mere thought brought another rush of wetness.  Freak.  She was a freak. 

“Liquor.  There’s some in the medicine cabinet.  Strong stuff.  In a flask,” he explained.  He watched as she went back into the bathroom.  Had she thought he’d meant blood?  Her blood?  And did that thought make her wet again?  Spike felt little Spike respond.  Down boy.  This is the Slayer.  He wasn’t sure, but he actually thought little Spike answered him directly.  Something about this not being like any Slayer he’d ever seen.  He looked down, “Well you ain’t exactly ever seen one, have you?” 

Buffy walked back into the bathroom and could see Spike looking down, talking to himself.  “Do you often have conversations with your penis?” she asked as she handed him the silver flask. 

He looked her directly in the eye and said in utter seriousness, “If I have to.”  Then he took the stopper off the flask and took a long hard swig. 

She picked up his hand again and looked in his eyes.  “You ready?” 

He tipped the bottle back and drank down the entire thing.  He re-corked it and then gave her a valiant nod.  “Ready.” 

Buffy laid his hand out flat on the small table.  She pushed down, straightening all of the bones.  She didn’t look up at him because she was pretty sure he had tears in his eyes.  There was a sniff.  Then she lifted the hand up and wrapped it much as she had done with the ribs, except that she had placed a small cardboard holder she’d found in the box in between the wrapping in order to keep the hand flat and as still as possible..  “You should really have this set properly.  I don’t exactly know what I’m doing here,” she confessed. 

“Doin’ great, luv,” Spike slurred.  “You’re a pretty little thing, you know that?” 

Buffy laughed.  “And you are a drunk little thing.” 

Spike scoffed.  “’M not little.”  He reached for his zipper.  “See, I’ll show you.” 

Buffy put a restraining hand on his.  “Not necessary.  I’ve already caught sight of the goods.  You’re not little.  Now, it’s time for all good little, I mean big, vampires to go to bed.” 

“Don’t wanna.  I wanna play.  Do you wanna play with me, Slayer?” Spike asked as he leaned against her. 

Buffy just calmly led him over to the bed.  She pulled the covers back and then forced him to lie down.  “Sleepy time now.  You need to heal,” she told him. 

He was actually feeling a little sleepy.  That flask was his special flask, and it contained quite a bit more than just liquor.  “I’ll go to sleep.  If you give us a cuddle,” Spike promised as he pulled her down beside him. 

Buffy sighed.  She lay down, careful not jar his hand or ribs.  She let him place his head against her breast.  To her utter amazement he curled right up and fell asleep.  After a few minutes, when she was sure he was down for the count, she gently got up, placing his head down on the pillow.  She tidied up, made sure the curtains were shut, and then turned off the lights.  She locked the room and then slid the key under the ridiculously large crack in the door.   

As she finally made it back to Revello Drive she thought over the events of the night.  What the hell had she done?  She’d actually saved the life of a vicious killer.  Not just saved him, but took him home and bandaged him up.  Then she’d cuddled with him.  His face had been mere inches from her neck.  Her Slayer senses should have been screaming in horror and distress.  Instead, they’d only screamed mine.  She really was a freak.

  Healing Hearts and Bodies (Not Kari)


After a night of tossing and turning restlessly in her bed, unable to get a certain blond vampire out of her head, she just decided to go with the whole freak label.  After all, she reasoned, she did come with an expiration date, and shouldn’t she just grab onto what she wanted, when she wanted it?


At least that’s what she told herself as she found herself walking towards the Sunnydale Arms at 11:30 in the morning, after having ditched her classes to check up on Spike.  She was also well aware, that he probably didn’t need her help, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the way he looked curled against her breasts last night, trusting that she wouldn’t stake him in his sleep. 


Sighing when she finally reached his room, she stuck her fingers under the crack in the door and felt for the key that she had put there when she left, and prayed that he really was only joking about the cockroaches.  She smiled in triumph when she felt the cool metal under her searching fingertips, pulling it out from under the door and inserting in the lock.  She inched the door open carefully, not wanting to set him on fire first thing and eased her body through the small space before carefully closing and relocking the door from the inside.


She easily found him in the pale light seeping in through the cheap draperies covering the windows.  It didn’t look like he had move much from when she had left him the night before and it also didn’t look like vampire healing had kicked in yet, she could do something about that.  She looked at him for a long moment before giving in to the real reason she was there and began stripping off her clothes.  Two birds, one stone she figured.


When she was naked, she carefully pulled the sheet back, grinning when she found him naked as well. So he had moved at sometime during the night or morning, at least enough to strip off his jeans.  Goody for her.


She eased onto the bed between his thighs, allowing the long strands of her hair to trail across his body, tickling him, and causing his semi-erect penis to twitch.  She held in a giggle and bent over him, blowing a stream of warm air over his flesh.  He shuddered visibly and groaned, a sound that made moisture flood her core and she stared in fascination as his cock hardened, slowly rising towards his belly.  She gulped, as it got bigger.  As ideas went, she was now not certain this was a good one.  He was big. Well at least she thought he was big, having never seen one she couldn’t be certain, but he looked big to her.  She wasn’t going to let that stop her though.  She had dreamed of him, without truly knowing it was he, sure, but now that she did know, he was hers and she was going to take what was hers.  Everything that was in her was telling her to.


She leaned back over his body and curiously, licked the head of his cock, humming a little at the salty, sweet taste of him.  She had never done this before either and had always wondered if she would if given the opportunity.  Apparently, she thought as she traced her tongue over the long, length of him the answer was yes.


He groaned again and moved against her questing tongue, hips following her movements like an obedient puppy.  She giggled and looked up at him, sure his eyes would be on her, but they were still closed.  She sighed, time to up the ante then.  She encircled his erection with her small hand, amazed when her fingers barely met and lowered her mouth over him.  She sucked him in as far as she could, laving the silky steel of him with her tongue and sucking the tip like her favorite lollipop.


He growled and thrust his hips up, forcing him self further in her throat and she gagged, holding his hips down, but keeping him deep inside.  She looked him at him from her position and was satisfied to see that he was now awake, his sapphire eyes dark with growing desire and eyebrow quirked in question at her.


She gave him a mischievous look, smiling around his flesh, but refusing to give up the ground she had made when he had thrust in her mouth.  She tongued his hardness, feeling the head of him in the back of her throat and swallowed, closing it around him. 


He growled again and his good hand shot to her head to hold her in place as he gently began to move, thrusting himself deep inside her hot, wet mouth.  Note to self, swallowing a good thing, she smiled and did it again.


She let him lead, licking and sucking his cock when he would pull out and swallowing when he hit the back of her throat, moaning when she felt another gush of wetness between her thighs.  She cupped his balls with one hand, rolling them, smiling when he groaned and sped up his thrusts; her other hand delved into her slippery folds and stayed there, thrusting her fingers in time to his movements.

He growled more loudly then before and glanced up at him, just in time to see him pull out of her mouth and grab her arms, pulling her up and over him.


“What’s this Slayer?  Not that I’m complainin’, but it’s not everyday a bloke wakes up with his mortal enemy attending his cock.”  He crudely stated.


She smiled and leaned in, taking his pouting mouth in a kiss, licking and sucking the soft flesh, before giving it a stinging bite and pulling away, “I decided to take you up on your offer, Vampire.” She stated, coyly.


“What offer would that be, Pet?” His voice was deep and husky, his cock angry and aching.


“To find out for myself.”  She rose up, not giving either of them time to think and impaled herself on his hardness.  She screamed in pain as his erection plowed into her virgin sheath and tears unknowingly fell from her glazed green eyes. 


At the smell of her blood, Spike lost control of his demon and it rushed to the fore, blue eyes turning feral amber.  “Bloody hell, Slayer, what’d you do that for?”  He didn’t give her body time to recover, couldn’t, as his demon demanded his.  He did what he could for her by rolling her onto her back, making his thrusts shallower as he pounded into her abused flesh.


She cried out at the pain of it and at the pleasure of it too.  She knew that she had probably ruined her chances of having an orgasm, there was too much pain, but she held on to him, allowing herself to take comfort in his pleasure, allowing the demon to fuck her.  This is what she had wanted, well okay, she hadn’t really thought about it being like this, but she couldn’t regret it.  She loved him.


He eyes widened at the thought and he growled against her throat, as her muscles clamped around him like a vice involuntarily.  She loved him...freak...she moaned as her sore pussy tightened around him and jerked his head up to look at her.  “Bite me, baby...” she grunted with each punishing thrust of his body, “take what you need...”


She screamed again as his fangs took a second virginity from her and clasped her hands around his neck, holding him to her.  He groaned and his lower body sped up, pushing his cock deep inside her pussy and holding, coming in hard spurts as he drank her down.  She held on to him, crying softly, as his hips slowly stopped, fangs receded, and he licked her neck wounds closed. 


He purred, “Mine, Slayer, you’re mine.”


She sobbed against him, in shock that it had hurt so badly, but comforted by the fact that she was now his, “Yours.”


They both felt the connection snap between them, and he looked up at her, eyes blue once more, and widened in shock and satiated arousal. “Bloody hell, Luv, what have you done?”


She looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, scared that he regretted what happened.  “I...I don’t....know...something just told me to do it, to take you for myself.”


He slowly pulled out of her sore sheath, careful of her now that the demon had retreated and he could think more clearly.  “What do you mean, Luv?”  He pulled her against his hard chest, ignoring the smell of her blood and his cum all over her.


Buffy looked at him, hoping that he would understand, that she understood, “I’ve dreamed of you, since the time that I was called. I think my Slayer side has been waiting for you.  Well, I didn’t know it was you, you, of course, only would see part of you...I didn’t even realize that you were a vampire until after the first night we met and I dreamed...anyway, when I saw you the other night, I just knew you were supposed to be mine, that I was yours, that you were who I had been waiting for...”


She trailed off, realizing he was looking at her with amusement on his face, “What?” She asked defensively, trying to pull out of his arms.


He chuckled and pulled her closer, “You, Luv, you’re so cute when you babble.”


She hit him playfully and relaxed back into his embrace.


“Okay, so let me see if I got this straight, slayer you has been dreaming of me, waiting for me to come? That right?”  She was nodding her head before he finished the question.  “Makes sense, I felt you, you know?  The other night.  I was driving through town looking for a place to hole up for the day when I felt...something...anyway, I was in the alley when you met up with Peaches.”  At her strange look he sighed, “Angelus.”

Her face brightened, as she understood, “Angel?”


“Is that what he calls himself now? He’s my grand-sire, he made Drusilla and she made me...lost track of him almost hundred years ago, don’t know why...” His face reflected hurt and confusion.


Reacting to that, she pulled him close, “He told my Watcher some story about gypsies cursing him with a soul...he’s...” She yelped as she suddenly found herself under him again.


“A soul? The fucker has a soul?” He asked incredulously. 


“Uh huh, that’s what he says anyway, been following me around like a lost puppy too, he’s kinda broody and he looks at me like I can save him...” She thought about the prophecy telling of her death at the hands of the Master and tears welled once more, “Hell, I can’t even save myself...”


He leaned down, capturing the tears that escaped, knowing, “Shhh, I’m here now, Luv, it’s the reason I’ve come to Sunnyhell, gotta stop great-grand pop.  Was the reason I was out looking for you last night before I came across the fyarls, heard the Harvest was tonight, was gonna warn you.”


Alarmed, tears drying up, she tried to push him off yelled, “Tonight?! When were you going to tell me, Spike?” She fought with him, trying to get up.


He growled, commanding her to stop and she did, eyes wide.  “Was gonna tell you last night, Pet, but was a little preoccupied what with the fighting and the getting hurt.  Telling you now, Slayer.”  He growled again as she tried wiggling away from him and held her down with strong hands, completely healed, as he snaked down between her legs.


He looked up at her with feral eyes at the scent of blood and cum on her pussy.  “We’ve got plenty of time until dusk, Slayer, now just lie back and let me see to you good and proper.  Can’t have my girl hurt and wanting now can I, got a reputation here...and Buffy,” He said, using her real name for the first time, “you’re someone special.”  He smiled wickedly as her body relaxed in his hold and her arousal perfumed the air, adding the all ready delicious scents radiated from her mound. He chuckled again and lowered his head.




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