The First Stage

Chapter 3: The Huntress and the Vampire Prey; Shards of Sanctuary


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"Oh you have GOT to be kidding me!" exclaimed Buffy straightening and starring at the vampire in disbelief. "What is this, Spike? Some lame attempt at revenge for me not coming around in the last month?"

"No!" he replied defensively, then after a short pause added, "Well, a lil’ bit, yeah, but MOSTLY no.\ Bu Buffy rolled her eyes and shook her head slightly, one hand placed lightly on her cocked hip. "What is your hold up then?"

Spike stood up from his chair slowly and solemnly met Buffy’s gaze. "I’m not gonna let you do this to me anymore," he said after a moment.

Buffy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Literally. There had to be some sort of trick to this whole thing. This was Spike, the horniest vampire on the face of the planet. The guy who didn’t give a damn where they were, be it the parking lot of the DMP or her front yard, nor did he care if they had foreplay or not. Hell, he didn’t even care how long it lasted just so long as they got off. He had his preferences, sure, but just about anything short of a church service got him hard. And yet, he seemed so serious. *What the hell are you trying to do, Spike,* she wondered silently, holding his stare firmly, *rub it all in my face? Guilt-trip me into staying; telling you that I need you? Prove that you can resist me even though I can’t resist you? Fat chance, Pale-face.* Buffy’s temper was flaring but she had decided to play his little game, hey it might even turn out to be fun for her in the end. Carefully keeping her anger from her face and eyes, she slowly began to move toward him.

"Oh," she replied finally, her gaze traveling first up, then down the entirety of his half-naked form. "I see." He had already been breathing with no other purpose than to keep his body as relaxed as possible, and now she watched as her subtle gesture quickened the reflex. "So," Buffy began, lifting her hands to the top of his chest and ‘accidentally’ brushing them against his zipper on the way up, "you’re putting your foot down…"

Spike clenched his jaw against a moan that threatened to escape the confines of his throat. "Uh … Yeah…" he breathed.

Her soft, tiny hands settled on his pectorals and she leaned the length of her body against him. Without warning, Buffy dug her fingernails deeply into his flawless white flesh. He hissed with pleasure, his eyes fluttering closed as he tilted his head back. "Taking control, huh?" she prodded teasingly.

"No, uh…" he blinked several times in an effort to clear his hormone-befuzzled brain. "There’s…there’s more to it than that."

"Uh huh," the slayer snorted derisively. "Now look who’s singin’ MY song."

"I’m serious, Buffy!" insisted Spike, grabbing her shoulders and pushing her out to arms length. "I won’t let you do this."

"Do WHAT exactly?" she demanded irritably. "What ever happened to, ‘You’ve got a willing slave,’? Where’d your ‘use me, abuse me’ attitude scamper off to?" She felt rotten saying it like that, but he was beginning to make her feel even more guilty than SHE had made herself feel initially, thus proving that such a feat was possible. What the HELL was wrong with her? Even evil vampires were beginning to think she was a terrible person!

"No where," came Spike’s overly-patient reply. "Look, Buffy," he began again, "it’s one thing for you to use me. That … THAT I can deal with, but I won’t have you using me to get over me."

"… Huh?"

"You’re only here to get a taste," he explained with a sigh. "Then you’ll tell me it’s over for good and you’ll leave again, but this time for six weeks instead of four. Then it’ll be two months, then three, til one day, you just stop."

*Wow, he really doesn’t get it yet, does he?* Buffy thought to herself. "That’s the plan."

Spike’s near frantic expression hardened suddenly with barely contained rage. "Well, that’s not gonna happen, Slayer," he hissed menacingly. "You’re gonna burn for me ‘til the day your pretty little ass goes to the grave for good!"

A fraction of a second after her fist collided with his jaw and sent him spinning into a heap of rubble, Spike’s brain cleared of its anger-fog and he realized just how much he SHOULDN’T have said that. Her fist was followed by a kick in the ribs as he was trying to rise, then a heel in the kidney to keep him down. The groaning vampire was more than happy to oblige by that time, however Buffy was far from through with him. *Oh no, ass-wipe,* she thought, hauling him up by his hair and the back of his denim waistband and hurling his body clear across thpanspanse of the crypt, *when I’m done with you, you won’t be able to move. THAT I can promise.*

Spike was on his side when the slayer reached him again. Rolling him onto his back, she grabbed his arms and placed them conveniently at his sides, so that when she straddled him, her knees dug into his palms. That last throw against the wall had landed the vamp a good one on the noggin, so he was rather surprised when the thing that cleared the last of the disorientation from his head was Buffy’s hot, moist mouth pressed to his. Spike had to get out of this quick, or he simply wasn’t going to.

As a last effort, Spike summoned forth his demon and felt the contorting of strange muscles as his entire visage altered form. Just as he expected, Buffy instinctively recoiled away from the jagged teeth she suddenly found her tongue probing. Spike made quick use of this moment by rocking his body hard to the left, throwing the slayer off balance and freeing his hands.
By the time Buffy had untangled her limbs enough to finding her footing, the vamp was nowhere to be seen. Seething, she raced out to the edge of the cemetery where Spike’s DeSoto was always parked. Much to her amazement, he hadn’t taken it.

Overcome with an impetuous need for retribution of some sort, Buffy found the largest fallen branch available and took out her hostilities on every last one of the DeSoto’s glass surfaces.

"Well, Spike," she said to no one in particular once she’d finished, "you’re gonna hafta hole-up SOMEWHERE come dawn and it sure as hell won’t be here."

Phyer cries a tear for the DeSoto….