Love is...

Title: Love Is Daring
Series: Love Is…
Author's Name: Scarlet
Author's Email and URL: scarletsfiction@yahoo.com www.geocities.com/karenmnick
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and UPN own Buffy the Vampire Slayer in totality. No profit is made from this piece of fiction and no copyright infringement is intended.
Distribution: Just ask and I’ll say yes!
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Andrew/Spike
Feedback: Yes!
Dedication: To K-k-k-Katie and Kaz.
Author's Notes: Takes place during Touched. Spike and Andrew wait it out at the mission…and play a naughty game.


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“I spy with my little eye…something that begins with ‘V’.”

“Vampire.”

“See? You do know how to play.”

“Didn’t say I didn’t know *how* to play. Said I didn’t *want* to play.”

Honestly, Spike can be fairly uncommunicative at times. Like now for example. He’s just sitting on the ground with his cigarette. He hasn’t really talked to me since we got in that rumble. I think he’s mad because he wanted to eat those guys but I kicked it old school instead. Anyway, Spike should be glad I kept him from hurting them. I’m like…I’m like his little Jimminy Cricket. His wise, green conscious that tells him what to do or something. It’s a cool job, like a calling. I have a higher purpose, to be Spike’s soul. Oh, except he has one of those now and--augh! Then why did he want to eat those guys? That’s just gross! Maybe he wasn’t going to eat them. Gosh I hope he doesn’t plan on eating me.

“I spy with my little eye, something that begins with ‘C’.”

“Shut. Your. Yap.”

Spike really needs to work on his interpersonal skills. I should tell him that. Because sometimes, you just have to hear it from a friend. Tough love, you know?

I should probably be quiet, but the mission is dark. And creepy. Plus, it kinda smells funny. And not funny, “ha, ha”, but funny, “used to perform strange virgin sacrifices before burning the bodies in an unholy fury” funny. That’s a gulp!-able thought.

“Well, how about Rock, Paper, Scissors?”

“Gee, that would be great but the problem is, Andrew,” he crushes his cigarette out on a tapestry, “I’m not a thirteen-year-old girl. And your games are for Kool-aide and hair braiding.” Spike can be sarcastic, too. He stands to stretch his legs and paces the room we’re waiting in.

“I know, but I’m bored!” Even though I know I’m whining, Spike doesn’t say anything about it because he’s such a good guy. Or, maybe because he’s bored, too. “We could play Truth or Dare.”

“Boring.”

“We could play *Dirty* Truth or Dare.” Now he looks intrigued.

“And what would that entail?” He raises his eyebrow at me. His eyebrow is so hot. It’s all scarred and stuff. It makes him look mean. Except, I don’t think he’s mean. Cause he’s Spike, you know?

“Well, everyone I know has their own rules, but I could ask you a question—“

“I go first,” Spike interrupts.

“Okay…Spike? You need to learn some boundaries here. I say this as a friend. I was talking and—“ Oops! Don’t contradict a vampire…Don’t contradict a vampire…. He’s grabbed me by my neck and is pinning my head to the floor. I wonder how long it’s been since they mopped….

“I. Go. First.” Spike is so the Big Bad.

“So, you could ask a question,” I squeak and he lets go, “and then I would either have to answer it truthfully or take the dare.” I sit up, rubbing my throat. Vampire strength is cool unless you’re on the receiving end of it. I guess that’s the point, though.

“And if I win this game?”

“I don’t know. I’d get you something or do something for you.” Now I know he’s interested. He’s taking off his duster and sitting on the floor with me.

“And what if you win?”

“Um…I don’t know…” What would I want? I could get Spike to bite everyone that was ever mean to me, but most of them are already dead or left Sunnydale this week. What to get…what to get….

“You’re takin’ too long.”

“Don’t rush me! I don’t work well under pressure. What do you want if you win?”

“Well, I can’t win if we don’t start playing,” he points out.

“Fine. Your duster.”

“What?”

“Your coat. If I win, I want your coat.”

“You’ve already got a coat.”

“But not one like yours. Yours is way cooler.“

“That’s cause I took mine off a slayer.”

Holy guacamole, Batman! Seriously? I mean, um, that’s really interesting and—did you kill her?”

“Yeah.” He lights another cigarette so I can’t ask him anything else for a while.

“What about you. What do you want?” I ask him when he’s ready. He is staring at me again. Why does he do that? Vampires are so intense. They’re like Vulcans.

“You can’t make one Star Wars reference until after the Apocalypse,” he says finally.

“That’s not fair! You can’t—“

“I can and I did,” he says. I think he really means it, too. “You can spout Jedi wisdom when it’s over.” I think he’s trying to make the deal seem sweeter.

“Fine. Doesn’t matter anyway.”

“And why is that?” he asks.

“Nothing. You get to go first.” I can tell he wants to ask me about something, but he doesn’t and for a long time there’s a weird silence.

“Alright, first question. Andrew…you’re the surveillance boy. Did you ever spy on Buffy when she was ‘indisposed’?”

Damn vampiric cunning. But that’s what technicalities are for.

“No. My turn.”

“Hey!” He sounds disappointed. “You and your chums had cameras everywhere. You must have caught something.”

“You didn’t ask about *something*. You asked about Buffy. No, I didn’t see her naked. My question.”

“But that’s not what I meant!”

I shake my head. “Silly, silly vampire. You have a lot to learn about the intricacies of Truth or Dare. Now, Truth. I want to know what happened between you and Edward and don’t leave out any of the good parts because I’m not a little kid.”

“I know you’re not a little kid,” he says and then he sort of smirks at me. Okay…not really sure how to take that. “And that is a story that could take hours to tell.”

“Um, technically, I don’t think we really have that much time.”

“Right then. He let me fuck him in the horse stables for my birthday,” he says quickly.

I think my mouth is hanging open. “You had a birthday?”

“Andrew, I don’t think you fully appreciate this story—”

“When is it?”

“When is what?”

“Your birthday.”

“What? I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember your birthday?”

“No…April maybe? I don’t remember.”

“That’s weird.”

“Well I’ve had a bleedin’ lot of ‘em haven’t I? You forget after a while.”

“So…Edward…”

“No, that’s over. It’s my turn.” He sounds a little cranky.

“What? No! That’s not fair.”

“I told you what happened and I didn’t treat you like a kid. I did my Truth.”

“Fine.” Vampires are so tricky, I swear.

“You said you never had sex.”

“Yeah?”

“With a woman.”

“Right.”

“Or a bloke.”

“Uh, push fast forward Spike. You and I already covered this.”

“But have you kissed one? Lad or lass.”

“Yes. My turn. Did you—“

“No! I’m not taking that as an answer!”

“You have to learn how to ask better questions. Yes or no questions can—“ Damn. Pinned to the floor again. I’m starting to think he likes seeing me here.

“Tell me about the first person you kissed. That better?” His lips are inches from my nose. I think being this close to a vamp should be hot but it’s not that sexy to tell you the truth.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Well?”

“Well what?” He is looking at me like I’m totally mental and—oh. ”The first person I kissed? Um…Okay. Freshman year, under the bleachers, after Chess Club.”

“You were in Chess Club?” He might be just a tiny bit horrified.

“Spiiiiike!” I whine.

“Fine, who was it?”

“No one you would know.”

"Come on, who?”

“Janice Westburg.” He looks confused. “I told you that you wouldn’t know her.”

“What ever happened to good ‘ole Janice?”

“I don’t know. I think maybe she moved.” Vampire hands are really soft. I want to ask Spike to let me sit up again because he’s still got my neck in one hand, pressing it to the floor. I bet he can feel my pulse. I wonder if that’s like a dinner bell for him.

“This great kissing bandit, did she curl your toes?”

“Janice? No, she sort of--she was just a friend.”

“Who you kissed.”

“Right.” He seems satisfied by that answer.

“Okay, your turn.” He lets me sit up and I rub my bruised throat. That was unpleasant. Sort of.

“Thank you, Spike. Truth…what does it feel like, you know, to bite somebody?”

I’ve got his attention. He’s doing that staring thing again which I guess is okay since we’re the only two people in the room. He crushes out another cigarette and leans in real close to me. Spike has beautiful eyes. I always thought that, but it’s cool that now that we are friends I can see them close-up without having to worry about being a victim of his ungodly rage.

“It feels like…giving life.”

“Like childbirth? That’s kind of gross—”

“No, you fool, I mean like *re*birth. When blood flows, life flows, mate. And they know. Each of them. Each life I took, they knew that one stage of existence was over but another was just beginning. And I did that.” I can feel the intensity in his voice and I watch as his eyelids lower a little. “I did that. Me. It’s power, Andrew. The power to take and the power to give.”

“It’s kind of like this metaphor for womanhood—“

“No, it’s NOT! Not everything is a bloody metaphor for woman hood! I don’t want to hear anymore about that. I told you the last time you tried to use the womanhood metaphor on me that—“

“Okay, geez. You’re turn.”

“Right then…okay. I had one I wanted to come back to. Let me make sure I say this right.” He frowns at me. Is it my fault he’s really bad at this game? “Which of the little Scoobies-wait, which of the people that live at-wait, which of-dammit! Tell me any and all sexually explicit things you viewed on your video surveillance equipment last year.”

Damn. He covered all of the bases. I can’t tell him, though. He’ll kill me. I know we’re friends but we won’t be after he hears about the camera. He’ll bite me and I’ll be one of those people he’s talking about. He’ll suck me dry and tell me it’s just ‘the beginning’! I don’t know if I’m more scared of what he’ll do when I tell him or what dare he’ll give me if I don’t tell him.

“This shouldn’t be that hard, Andrew. Come on.”

“Dare.”

“What?”

“Dare.”

“You’d rather take a Dare than answer that Truth?”

“Yes please.”

“Oh, we *do* have some talking to do when we get back to Sunnydale. All right…Dare…”

He’s quiet for a long time. I bet he’s trying to think of the worst dare that he can. Like, maybe I’ll have to eat a bug like on “Survivor” or streak the monks or—“

“Bite me.”

“Huh?”

“Bite me,” he says again.

“Why?”

“Cause I asked you to, and cause it’s my Dare,” he says menacingly. I guess I’m still looking at him like he’s speaking Jawa so he finally says, “Fine. Thing is, I’ve done a lot of biting but I don’t get the other side too often. I’ve got a soul now and…I’m curious.”

My pulse is going about a million miles an hour now. Bite him? What if I don’t bite…right? He is *so* going to kick my ass. I should have taken the Truth. I should have told him. But if he knew about the camera… Okay. I can do this. Or I can try to get out of it.

“I don’t have pointy teeth.”

“Didn’t ask you to *suck* me, I just asked you to *bite* me. You don’t need to drink from me or nothing.”

Um, Spike just said, “suck” and “me” in the same sentence. When someone says that, especially a vampire, not much computes after that. Suck, suck, suck, suck, suck…

“Any time now. Or answer the question.” What to do, what to do…suck, suck, suck…

“Where do you want it?” I ask, my voice shaking.

“The throat is traditional.”

“Oh, yeah, right. That,” I stop to gulp, “that sounds fine.” Now it’s my turn to stare. I get on my hands and knees and crawl to sit in front of Spike. He tilts his head but he is looking at the wall behind me, which is a little better at least. “How hard do I need to bite?”

“Well I don’t know, Andrew. I never bit anyone as a human.”

“Right.” He smells kind of nice. Like leather, even though he’s not wearing his coat right now. And cigarettes and sweat which is a gross smell if it’s your own, but kind of nice on Spike and…okay it’s now or never. I open my mouth and aim for where his pulse would be if he weren’t a walking corpse that feeds on the blood of the living.

“Andrew! If you don’t bloody well do it, I’m going to—“

I move quickly before I lose my nerve. My mouth is on his neck but I’m not sure what to do next. I know he picked the Dare and all, but I really don’t want to hurt him. I press my teeth into his neck and scrape them together but it doesn’t seem very menacing. They pinch a fold of skin and I try to bite at it but Spike shakes a little and I can’t, I just can’t hurt him. Instead, I suck. Hard. It seems like the next best thing to do. He doesn’t move so I guess it’s close enough for government work. Maybe I should try again. I open my mouth and try to bite. I do better this time. I think maybe I broke the skin a little. It helps if I visualize myself as a vampire. A nightwalker that prowls the streets at, well, night. A merciless cold-blooded killer. Spike is trembling under my mouth and I think he’s whimpering in fear. Yeah, that’s right. Be afraid. Be very afraid. I’m a bloodthirsty, homicidal maniac. Yeah, that’s me. I’m Andrew. I’m a badass motherfucker who don’t take no shit from—Augh!“

Suddenly I’m flying across the floor and I hit the wall with my head. It takes me a minute to sit up. There’s a bump forming on my forehead and Spike is gasping and squirming a little on his coat.

“Why did you do that? You could have killed me! I probably have a mortal head wound!” I shriek. I can’t believe him!

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s just…you were…”

“What?”

“YOU WERE GIVING ME A HICKEY!”

“What?”

“A hickey! I asked you to *bite* me and you gave me a love bite.” He turns his neck toward me and sure enough, there it is. A small purple oval on pale, pale skin.

“Wow! I never did that before! Does it hurt?”

“Well…” He rubs at the spot a little. “Kind of,” he says finally.

“That’s no reason to throw me across the floor. I wasn’t trying to give you a hickey. I was just doing the Dare you told me to.”

“I know. Sorry for the throwing and the…hitting and such,” he apologizes meekly. I’m sort of surprised at how submissive he sounds. It’s very unSpike.

“It’s alright. I know I can be pretty threatening when I go with the method thing. Just next time tell me before you Jackie Chan me, okay?”

He’s giving me that look my mom gets when I try to explain to her the difference between black oil and greys. Finally he just says, “It’s your turn.”

Rubbing my head, I go back to my place on the floor. I had a good truth but I can’t remember it exactly. He probably knocked it right out of me along with all of my memories before age four.

“Sometime in this century, love.”

Um, pause or freeze-frame or whatever. I should stop and say something here. Spike is English. You probably already know that, but in England they call everyone that. Love, I mean. It doesn’t really mean anything except that it’s nice and shows that he probably doesn’t plan on exsanguinating me tonight. Sometimes, though, when it’s really late, I pretend he means it, like, the other way. The special way. And then I think about him saying it really, really close to my ear where only I can hear it so I know it’s meant for me. After that, I can sleep better and Warren slash The First doesn’t appear to me at all and—oh! I remember what Truth I was going to ask. Unpause.

I lean in and try to be uberserious. “Spike.”

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever, you know…”

“What…?”

“…drank blood from anyone, you know, *below the belt*?” I can feel my face blushing but Spike looks serious.

He leans until I’m practically breathing right into his face. It’s very intense.

“Well…yes.” He smiles wickedly.

“And…”

“And…it’s my turn.” He sits up and pulls out another cigarette.

“Hey! That’s not fair!”

“Fair enough when you did it.”

Damn.

“Well played,” I begrudgingly offer. I have to wait while he lights his cigarette and exhales. Then slants his eyes at me again and my skin gets all cold but my belly gets hot. How does Spike do that? I think it has to be a vampire skill. Some paranormal machismo that the faint-of-heart can’t possibly—

“Andrew….”

“Yes.” I gulp.

His tongue slides out and runs along his lower lip. Holy biscuits.

“Have you ever *wanted* someone to drink blood from you below the belt?”

Danger Will Robinson! If I tell the truth, he might take that as an invitation to drain me dry and leave my bleach bones by the side of the highway when we leave. But if I take a dare, then he’ll make me do something where I end up with my head becoming a wall hanging suitable for framing.

“Well, uh, I’ve thought about it. And, uh, I’ve kind of imagined it. But…what was the question again?”

He just smiles at me.

“Fine. Yes.”

“That the truth?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“Is that a ‘Good, I’m going to drain you dry.’ or ‘Good, I’m—‘ “

“I won’t drain you dry, Andrew. You’re bein’ paranoid.”

“Really?”

“Course not.”

“Oh. ‘Of course you wouldn’t drink from me’ or ‘Of course I’m paranoid’? ”

“Andrew! You have some serious vampire issues to deal with.”

“I grew up on the Hellmouth! I’ve had vampire issues from birth,” I whine. I can’t help it. Spike gets me all confused. I forget what is supposed to be good and what’s supposed to be evil and that vampires can be friends and it’s okay to like guys and…

“Look kid, I see you sittin’ there, running these thoughts over in your head but you don’t share any of ‘em with me and I’m an *actual* vampire. Yet you see fit to spew out whatever pop-culture rubbish is floatin’ around in that noggin’ of yours without a second thought.”

“Soooo?”

“So? So if you weren’t so thickheaded, you would talk to me! You would know that you didn’t have to take that last dare. If you hadn’t been so afraid you would have found that I know all about the camera that night in The Magic Box. And I know you and your little pals watched us. Known for a long time and it doesn’t bother me.”

“It doesn’t?”

“No.”

“You don’t care that we saw you and Anya on the table?”

“Course I care. But it was a year ago. Things change. Tempers cool.”

“Or you and Buffy on the counter?”

“No. It was—wait! Me and Buffy?”

“Yeah.”

“You said you never saw Buffy—“

“With her clothes off. I didn’t. We didn’t, I mean. But we saw you and that little feather thing and—“ He is looking at me now like he wants to eat my eyeballs for appetizers.

“Are you thinking about eating my eyeballs for appetizers?”

“What?”

“Well, you said I should say things when they come to my mind. And I thought—“

“No, Andrew. That’s not what I’m thinking.”

“Whew.” He is just staring at his cigarette now and he seems really sad. “So…what are you thinking about?”

“Just wonderin’ how I could have mucked up my unlife so badly.”

“Kind of know what you mean.” It’s really quiet in here, but I’m glad I’m not alone. “My turn.”

Spike sighs and waves his hand at me to continue.

“What is your full name? Your real name before Spike, I mean. ‘William Something Something.”

“That's not ‘dirty’, Andrew.”

“Then it will be easy to answer.”

“You’re not following the rules.”

“Oh, I don’t play by other people’s rules.” That’s right. I’m a badass.

“But they’re *your* rules, Andrew,” he says slowly.

“Oh, yeah…well just answer it. Don’t be such a wuss.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Answer it or take the Dare.”

He’s quiet for a long time.

“Fine. Dare.”

“No shit! Really? Your name must be awful. My middle name is Albert—“

“Dare, Andrew, or I *will* burn your hair with my lighter in your sleep.”

“Right. Dare…uh…” What can I make him do that won’t get me killed or make him mad at me? “What can I do that won’t get me killed or make you mad at me?”

“Now that time, I could tell you were thinkin’ something and then you said it. I’m proud. And I promise not to be mad at anything you choose.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Mostly.”

“Mostly is good. I’ll just…avoid anything, uh…what should I avoid?”

“You can’t touch my coat.”

“Okay, no coat-related dares.”

“Or my smokes. You’ve already proven you can’t handle them.”

“Right.”

“So…what’ll it be?”

“I want…” I stop. I know what I want. I do. Warren did it for me and so did Jonathan. It’s not even naughty and I don’t think he’ll mind, but…

“Say it, love.”

Love.

“I want you to sing. I mean, you don’t have to sing *to* me or anything. Just a song.”

“What song?”

“You choose.” He’s quiet for a long time.

“Don’t know many songs clear through. Not that I can sing right now, that is. Don’t much think the Ramones would be suitable.”

“Whatever. Your choice.”

“Only one that comes to mind, but…”

“Just sing it, then.”

“No, it’s not right. Feels strange.” He looks really weird, now. Not crazy weird, just…unsettled. “Bloody hell! Can’t think of a single other song. Why do you suppose that is?” His eyes rove the room and he’s starting to worry me a little. I think he’s sweating. “Just a song,” he seems to say to himself. That calms him and he takes a breath and begins, “Early one morning, just as the sun was…was…” He winces and tries to shake off the pinched look but it seems like it can’t go away and…”…was rising…” I watch as his face changes, taking on the vampire planes that I’ve only seen a few times. His eyes are gold and his teeth are long. I should be terrified.

But I am not afraid.

That’s the weird thing. You would think I’d be afraid, but Spike doesn’t look scary. Just confused. And a little sad. He tries again, with the same effect. It looks like he’s remembering something and whatever it is, it’s a sad memory. He tries again and again. The urgency behind the song scares me. It’s like it’s his own test. A personal goal to be achieved. He’s taking on the trials, leaving Knighthood to become a Master. Like, if he can get through this song, he can…something. I don’t know. I just know that, in a way, it looks like he’s in pain and I think I chose a very bad Dare.

“You don’t have to do it, Spike. It’s okay. It’s just a stupid game!” I beg.

“No!” he responds. “I’m gonna finish.”

He looks so unhappy and I know I did that. I made him do this. I’m horrible. I’m a horrible friend. I crawl to his side and I take his hand and squeeze it. I can see his fangs up close and it isn’t cool at all. His face is beautiful, though. And his eyes. I rub the ridges with my finger and it makes him sing louder. He hardly notices, but that’s okay. I didn’t expect him to notice. I just listen to his voice and wait for him to end, though I’m not sure if he will. He tries again. We do this for a while.

Finally, Spike finishes. I watch as his face assumes it’s human form again. He looks relieved. We’re both sweating and Spike is shaking a little. I don’t know what’s happened. I’m not sure I want to know but whatever it is, Spike seems a little calmer. I expect him to reach for a cigarette, but he doesn’t. Just sits and watches me until I smile at him a little. That’s when I notice that I’m still holding his hand.

“My turn,” he says. His voice is strange, low and thick.

“Okay.”

“Andrew. Have you ever…imagined what it would be like to be with a vampire?” He is leaning close to my face. I think he really wants to see if I’ll tell the truth. “To be seduced by one? To know one…intimately?”

I can hardly breathe. I think maybe he read my mind a little bit. I swallow hard. “Yes.”

“Yes…and?” I can see just the tiniest hint of yellow in his eyes. He, uh, must really want the truth and, uh…I can hardly think right now. “Who did you imagine bumping fangs with?” he whispers. I lick my lips.

“Louis.”

“Who, love?”

“Louis. From the Vampire Chronicles. And we’re in Italy, see? And I’m riding this gondola and—“

“That bloody ponce?” He pulls back, angry.

“Yeah.”

“An *imaginary* character.”

“Yeah.”

“A vampire from a *book*.”

“Yeah?”

“When you’ve got perfectly…” He’s mad now and I’m not sure why, but I get the feeling it’s my fault, as usual. Some people just don’t get the homoerotic allure of Anne Rice.

“It’s my turn,” I say.

“I’m tired. I think this game is over,” he mutters.

“Already?” His look tells me that this game has gone on for longer than he’d like. “Oh, well, who won?”

“Well, that’s easy. You just…well, it’s…”

“Uh, huh.”

‘We didn’t plan out how we’d know who won.”

“Well,” I begin, “we could just both win and I could have your coat and—“

“No.”

“No more Star Wars references…” I think this might be the bait that gets me that bitchin’ coat, but…

“No. Neither of us wins. It’s a draw.”

“That *sucks*.”

Spike is staring at me again. Geez! Take a picture why don’t you.