He was always horny, too.

To please her mother, Buffy made it a point to be home for dinner most nights, did her homework before going out to slay, and never brought Spike home to screw him into the mattress. She was pleasantly surprised that he usually came early to pick her up for dates and spent time chatting with her mom.

But, then, this whole thing had started because he and her mom shared a mutual interest in ugly art.

Sitting at her dressing table on a Thursday night, Buffy brushed her hair up into a ponytail and wrapped a black scrunchie around it. She wore the black leather mini skirt and a purple shirt--not the best outfit to slay in, but guaranteed to blow Spike's pee-sized brain. Adding a pair of knee high boots, she scrutinized her reflection in the mirror.

The gleam of anticipation in her eyes made her smile.

Skipping into the Library, Buffy came to a quick stop as she realized the whole gang was in heavy research mode. Even Cordelia was there, making faces as she flipped through a very dusty and crumbly book.

"What's up?"

"Ah, Buffy, you're here." Giles looked up from his books and frowned in her direction. "Spike has made another move, taking over Clan Caravelli. That's five clans in the last three weeks. He's consolidating his forces and wealth."

"And?" Buffy tried not to fidget.

"At this pace he will rule Sunnydale's vampire population within six weeks. I began to wonder if there was something going to happen at that time, a prophecy or historic anniversary. The Feast of Devonnia is in seven weeks."

"What's that?"

"Um, we're not really sure." Taking off his glasses, he began to polish them. "It's an obscure feast even in vampiric lore, as it occurs only every two hundred years. We have determined that it is this year, but we're not certain yet what happens."

"Well, um, plenty of time."

Giles frowned. "Buffy, this could be extremely serious. Spike has tried to bring an end to the world before."

"That was Drusilla," Buffy protested, then bit her lip before she said anything stupid.

"He did help Buffy stop Acathla," Willow added, trying to be helpful.

"And he only didn't kill us last Fall because he was drunk and forgot about us," Xander stuck in spitefully.

"Too bad," Cordelia sniped.

"Hey!"

Buffy rolled her eyes and headed for the weapons' locker. "So, I'll watch out for Spike and stake his ass if I see him."

"Buffy," Giles cautioned, "he's extremely dangerous, you know that. Don't take him lightly."

Hefting a small ax, Buffy smiled. "Don't worry. I can handle Spike."

"Now, if I could just find him to handle him," Buffy muttered to herself three hours later as she patrolled her fifth cemetery of the night. It was nearly midnight, and she had to be home by half past.

Disappointment rolled through her, totally failing to squelch the desire that had been building all evening. They were usually together only three or four nights a week, and they'd gone out to a movie the night before, killed a pack of Toro demons, and fucked each other stupid in the backseat of his car. So, she hadn't really expected to see him so soon.

But...

Her body was all ready for him.

Frowning, Buffy twirled her ax in her hand and headed for the Maple Street entrance to the cemetery. A quick cut through the park near the Bronze and she'd be home in twenty minutes.

At least the night wasn't a total waste. She'd dusted three vampires and saved a nun from being eaten by a scaly red thing.

Picking up her pace, Buffy entered the park and peered into the gloom. The paths were poorly lit, but her eyesight was better than a normal human's, so she could see that the way was clear. Besides the demons and vampires and other supernatural creatures, there were always evil humans to prey on victims as well. She knew the park was a favorite of drug dealers and muggers, as it was dark and hid illicit activity.

As she headed down the path, her mind on alert but also wandering to just how fast she could bring herself off when she hit her bed, she caught the sound of voices ahead of her. Slowing her pace, and walking silently, she listened carefully.

The voices had been replaced by the sound of slurping.

Eyes widening, Buffy sped up, still moving silently. Pulling a stake from her sleeve, she turned a corner in the path and found two vampires crouched over a still human male. One looked up, a young female, and her golden eyes gleamed with eagerness and blood lust, as she licked her blood stained lips.

As Buffy tightened the grip on her stake and prepared to charge, a third vampire dropped from the trees and grabbed the young female.

She was tall, blonde and beautiful, adorned in tight red leather, her human mask cold with fear.

"Sire!"

The last vampire rose and turned to face Buffy, and the eyes that met hers were bleak and empty.

"Spike..."

"Get her out of here, Daria," Spike growled, not looking at the vampires behind him.

Buffy didn't even watch as the other two melted into the trees. All her attention was on Spike as her heart broke. His demon face was firmly in place, his eyes burning gold, and blood dripped from his wicked looking fangs.

"Bastard," she howled, launching herself at him, hitting and kicking him to the ground. Coming over him, she blindly raised the stake.

Stunned at the swiftness of her attack, Spike grabbed her wrist and managed to roll them to the side as she brought the ax down with the other hand. The blade nicked his shoulder before spinning away from them. He winced at the pain, but struggled to control her, barely keeping the stake from his chest, as their positions reversed and he ended up on top of her.

"Buffy...luv...stop it."

"Don't call me that." Wrenching her empty hand free, she punched him in the nose, and jammed the stake into the bleeding wound in his shoulder. At the instant of blinding agony, Spike managed to free a hand and slap her.

Buffy turned livid and shoved him off of her, the stake still embedded in his body. Spike went flying onto his back, and, before he could move, she was on him, pummeling him. Raising his hands in defense, he managed to catch one of her shoulders and flip her over his head.

Rising to his knees, he yanked the stake free and sent it spinning into the woods. Panting angrily, he glared at Buffy as she crouched, hissing, her hands fisted, fury in her eyes.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Killer," she accused. "Demon."

Spike's eyes widened and something caught in his throat, but he chose to respond with patented sarcasm. "No fucking kidding."

"You killed this man," she pointed out. "You...ATE him."

"It's what I do."

Buffy shivered at the ice in his voice, and felt her stomach turn. For months she'd avoided the truth. She'd mentally danced around it. She'd watched him drink bottled blood in her mother's kitchen, and refused to think of how he was getting it elsewhere.

She'd known of the clan wars, his growing army of vampires, and she'd thought...what? That they were fluffy bunny vampires?

Spike watched his lover carefully, refusing to let his fear of losing her get the better of him. His shoulder throbbed with pain, his dead heart ached, but he chose to respond with the quietly controlled anger that was building in him.

"Have you been living in denial, Slayer? Do you think I'm so pussy whipped by you, I'll deny my own nature? What the fuck do you think vampires are, girl?"

"Go away or I will kill you," Buffy replied succinctly, her arms wrapping around herself as horrible trembling began in the pit of her stomach and quickly spread throughout her body.

Spike sneered. "You can't. You can't send another lover to hell."

Buffy froze, pain lancing through her at his callous words. "I've been deluding myself, you're right, but that stops now." Slowly she rose to her feet, praying her shaking legs wouldn't give out beneath her.

Not wanting to give her any advantage, Spike jumped to his feet as well, glaring back at her. "We've been over this, Slayer. Me vampire, me bad, denial isn't just a river, and all that crap. You decided the fucking was worth it."

"I decided to pretend," Buffy replied, pain echoing in her voice. "I can't anymore, not in the face of...that." Tears filled her eyes as he looked at the dead man. "I can't let you kill."

"Oh, you can't?" Spike laughed harshly. "Try and stop me."

"I will," she swore. "You're just another vampire." As hot tears slid down her ice-cold cheeks, she began to back up, too afraid to turn her back on him.

"One you're horny as hell for. You reek of lust."

"From before," she choked out, paling as he took a predatory step towards her.

"From before? Before when I was still an evil undead demon who preyed on humans for food?"

"Shut up."

Another step towards her sent Buffy back against a tree. The rough bark prickling her shoulders through her thin silk shirt was only a moment's distraction, though, as Spike grinned nastily.

"You've been looking for me tonight, all hot and bothered."

"I never want to see you again," she yelled in response as she side-stepped away from the tree.

Spike pounced much faster than she had anticipated, driving her to the ground, blanketing her body with his. "A good kill always makes me hot," he hissed before smashing her lips beneath his.

Struggling beneath him, Buffy tried to scream, but the taste of blood filled her mouth, gagging her with its bitterness.

She had never tasted him fresh from a kill, never felt his fangs cutting into her lips as the demon savaged her mouth.

Tears flooded from her eyes and she pushed and shoved at him, but her horror made her weak just as his determination made him strong. His elongated tongue stabbed down her throat and she choked, beating at his back with her fists. When he finally broke the kiss, she gasped for air, her face white with panic.

Buffy stared up into those horrible molten eyes and shook her head.

Grinning nastily, Spike thrust his pelvis against her stomach, making sure she could feel his arousal constrained only by the denim and zipper of his jeans. One of his knees forced hers to part and, as he pinned her down with one arm over her chest, his other hand slid into the heat between her legs.

Shoving aside the scrap of silk covering her mound, he lightly scraped her swollen flesh with his claws. "You want me," he crowed.

A bolt of pleasure went through her and Buffy reddened in humiliation.

Spike grinned even more as moisture seeped over his fingers. "Even now."

"I hate you," she yelled furiously, digging her fingers into his hair and pulling hard.

Spike retaliated by taking a hold of her curls and yanking. Buffy shrieked in pain and released him. As soon as she did so, he went back to stroking her.

"Stop it, stop it, stop it," she moaned, pushing on his shoulders, trying to get leverage with her legs.

"I make you so hot and wet," he hissed into her ear as her head rolled to the side. His tongue lapped a line down her jaw, and his fangs followed, scraping lightly, sending shivers through her. "You want me to fuck you. Me, a demon, a monster, a killer. I taste of blood and death and you want me." His finger flicked against her erect clit and she groaned.

His touch wasn't tender. It wasn't nice. It was hard and cold and full of angry lust.

But, she was responding helplessly.

Buffy's neck arched into the touch of Spike's fangs, her body quivered beneath his rough fingers, and her hands limply fell away from him.

Tears continued to leak from her eyes as her self-hatred grew right along with her desire.

Sensing her surrender, Spike slid his free hand down the front of her shirt and ripped, baring her breasts to his fondling. Buffy's nipples were hard, little peaks, and he captured one between his lips. As he suckled, she felt a fang pierce the sensitive skin of her aureole, and whimpered at the hot rush of painful pleasure that rolled through her. Of their own volition her legs parted wider and her hips bucked against his fingers. He began to thrust two inside her at a hard, fast pace, milking her of her pleasure, until she moaned and writhed.

On the cusp of orgasm, Buffy watched helplessly as Spike rose above her, his hands fumbling with the clasp of his jeans. Freeing himself, he pushed the material down his legs just enough for comfort, then fell on her, his cock instinctively seeking her hot entrance.

Spike growled deep in his throat and thrust powerfully, slamming Buffy into the ground. He didn't kiss her, just lay propped above her, pounding into her, watching the expression on her face. The tears remained sliding slowly down her cheeks from pain- fulled eyes, but those cheeks were flushed and she was panting from lust, not fear. She made no move to touch him with her hands which lay limply at her sides, but her hips moved with his, her pelvis arched against his, her swollen clit rubbed the base of his cock on every punishing stroke.

Spike slid his gaze lower and watched her breasts heave with her exertion. A drop of blood beaded beneath one nipple. Licking his lips with his demonic tongue, he moaned and lowered his head to suckle the blood from her.

The sudden pulling sensation in her breast went straight to her womb and Buffy convulsed, climaxing in a great shudder of relief. She cried out and arched to him as her body quaked beneath his. Spike pumped harder, letting his own release come as her muscles quivered around his cock, sending bolts of pleasure through him.

Replete, he lifted his head, then crushed her mouth beneath his again.

As the aftermath of her orgasm faded, Buffy's brain began to function again and her stomach rolled. Just as she raised one shaky hand to push him away, he kissed her.

It was a possessive, angry kiss meant to claim not pleasure.

And he still tasted of blood.

This time...it was hers.

Her stomach churned again, violently, and Buffy struggled madly, shoving at his shoulders until Spike broke the kiss and rose above her. Scrambling from beneath him, Buffy managed to turn onto her stomach before she retched. Pushing herself to her knees, she heaved over and over until her stomach was empty and her whole body ached.

On his knees behind her, Spike watched her, a part of him aching to touch her shoulder, to brush the hair from her face, to hold her head as she was sick, but the demon just watched impassively.

Buffy sobbed helplessly, whimpering at the taste of bile and blood in her mouth, the churning of her stomach, and the rawness of her throat.

And at the horror of the last hour...and the last several months of intimacy with a monster.

"Get away from me."

Spike flinched at the harsh hatred in her voice, but refused to give into the fear he was feeling. He forced his demon aside, his face sliding away to human, and he reached for her again.

She jumped to her feet, shoved her skirt over her hips and clutched her torn shirt around herself. The eyes that looked down on him as he crouched before her sent a shiver through him.

They were hard and cold as ice.

"Touch me again, and I will kill you," she stated succinctly.

As she turned and ran, he finally believed her, and his heart shattered.

 

The End

 

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