Resolutions

Chapter 7


Upon gathering in Giles and Anya’s living room the Scoobies got organised for the ritual movie watching.


Once the pizzas had arrived and they’d finally agreed on the movie to watch, the tense air of discontent had slowly faded away to be replaced by the customary easy camaraderie that prompted a constant stream of comments upon the movie as the snacks and drinks were passed around.


Spike felt the tension slowly drain out of his Mate and he began to enjoy being included in the group activity, something that was still a novelty to him.


He had taken advantage of the shortage of seating to ensure that Buffy curled up in his lap. Being able to slip his hand furtively into her shorts to tease her while in the company of her Watcher and friends was a heady thrill.


He should have known better.


Once the pizza was all gone and the lights had been dimmed she had begun tormenting him again. She’d settle down for a while and pretend to be engrossed in the scene unfolding on the TV, then just as he was relaxing and getting comfortable she’d start wriggling against the bulge in his jeans or ‘accidentally’ brush over her mark.


Of course, as before, the frustration went both ways so the tension between them had kept growing and growing until he was sorely tempted to toss her over his shoulder and dash across the road and pound her into the mattress for a few hours. He’d made the whispered suggestion after one of her more overt gropes only to be shot down with a quiet taunting whine, “But I wanna watch the movie.”


If he’d been offered a million dollars he couldn’t have named the film on the screen.


Finally the music had risen to a crescendo, the end titles had scrolled up and the Scoobies had started making ‘getting ready to go home’ noises. At last Spike felt he had a chance of getting Buffy alone to work off some of his frustration. However, before they had a chance to escape, Giles had attracted their attention and suggested that they should include the disreputable dockside club ‘The Fishtank’ in their patrol route.


The Watcher had heard that the club was troubled by a group of vampires posing as… Giles had cleared his throat and polished his glasses furiously in embarrassment and used the euphemism ‘ladies of negotiable virtue’… leaving their unfortunate clients-come-victims robbed and drained and their bodies carelessly discarded in the murky water of the docks.


A flurry of excited suggestions from the Scoobies had resulted in Slayer and vampire walking separately into the club an hour or so later, Buffy dressed up as a hooker and him as an ‘average Joe’ vampire.


Althanea had entered wholeheartedly into the fun of the impromptu planning session which resulted in Buffy’s Slayerness being concealed from vampire senses and both of them subject to glamours that changed their hair and eye colours. Buffy’s crowning glory now appeared to be a rich mahogany and her eyes were deep brown while he had been told that his own curls were a dark mousy blond and his eyes a nondescript grey. Both spells were designed to persist until sunrise.


Some bright spark had come up with the brilliant idea that as they had become so well known to the local demon community they should work ‘undercover’ to expose and eliminate the organised vampire gang, and the notion had caught on like wildfire.


He made a mental note to strangle Dawn the next time he got her alone.


Just a little bit.


After they’d all trooped back over to the Summers residence Spike had quickly changed into the clothes that had been chosen for him and then he had been shooed out of the way while the girls went through Buffy’s wardrobe to assemble a suitably authentic outfit for her. Meanwhile he leant against the railings on the front porch as he smoked a cigarette and waited.


While Spike listened to the girls’ poorly muffled giggles and exclamations from upstairs, Giles had approached him and taken off his spectacles for a thoughtful polish. Accusingly, he murmured, “Do you really think it’s wise to feed from Buffy on a daily basis, Spike? Could you not impress upon her what an extremely bad idea it is?”


The vampire shrugged. “I told her I didn’t want to, Watcher, but you know what she’s like…”


“You could have just said no, man! She can’t force you to feed from her, for heaven’s sake!”


Spike responded with a wry question, “And when was the last time you said no to the girl, huh? Tell me that! She turns those wide saucer eyes on you and bats her eyelashes… And then there’s the pout…” He gestured helplessly. “That lip… bloody lethal it is.”


Giles harrumphed and put his spectacles back on. “Yes… well… quite…” He heaved a resigned sigh. “Just… please be very careful. Buffy has been almost drained once before, you know. Angel…”


“Heard all about that.” Spike shook his head in exasperation. Talk about flogging a dead horse. Would they never get it? He asked wearily, “Need I remind you for the thousandth time that I’m. Not. Soddin’. Angel? His demon resented the Hell out of her for making him feel human. Mine adores her for exactly the same reason. Not gonna hurt the girl, Watcher. Dust myself first.”


Giles nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, I rather think I believe you would, Spike.” He gave a little snort of ironic laughter as he passed the vampire heading back across the road, muttering to himself, “I can’t believe I just said that! What’s the world coming to when I feel I can trust a soulless vampire to sacrifice his life to protect my Slayer?”


As he continued to wait, Spike listened absently to the feminine voices drifting down the stairs. Standing out from all the good natured chatter, one quietly intense exchange on the landing caught his notice.


“Buffy, do you think it’s really a good idea to have Spike living here? I know you think you love him, and he can be really useful in a fight, but is it safe? And… and is he really a good influence on Dawn? He is still evil. Um… it’s just… Althanea’s made a friend here and she’s been invited to move into their guest room so she’s checking out of her hotel room in a couple days. The thing is… I can’t afford to stay at the hotel on my own. Surely if Spike were gone I could…”


“Are you suggesting that a superstrong being who’s sworn to protect her with his life, and who has more than once got hurt doing just that, is more dangerous to have around and a worse influence on my sister that a witch who is so focussed on using her magic to get what she wants that she rapes our minds to manipulate our memories, then causes an accident in which Dawn’s lucky to get away with just a broken arm, and then blows up the house, Willow?”


“Oh! But Buffy… I…”


“Surely it’s up to me to decide who gets to share my home? If you’ll remember, I never invited you to live here in the first place. I know you and Tara moved in to look after Dawn while I was… gone… and I’m grateful for that, I really am. But then after I was back you just kinda… stayed. I never really understood why, although I couldn’t find the energy to question it. It’s not as if you were paying rent or Hell, even looking after Dawn any more. Besides, from what I gather it was mostly Tara and Spike who did that anyway…”


“It’s Spike, isn’t it? He’s said something to turn you against me…”


“I thought you liked Spike?”


“Well, kinda, yeah. ‘Specially after the way he helped me with the withdrawal and then again in LA. But I never forget what he used to be like, Buffy, and what he might go back to being now the chip’s gone, and I kinda think you have.”


“Believe me I never forget, but I also can’t forget what he’s done for us, for me, and what he’s willing to do. I believe in him, Will. And for your information, I don’t ‘think I love him’. I know I’m in love with him. I’ve never felt this fulfilled before. He makes me so happy. Why do you want me to send away the only person who makes me happy, Will?”


“God, Buffy! I can’t believe you’re choosing an evil soulless vampire over your friends who love you…”


“I’m not, Will. I’m choosing my boyfriend… no, I’m choosing my lover… no, that’s not right either. Do you know what? I’m choosing me. I’m putting my happiness first, for once.”


“But…”


“Spike stays, Will.”


“Well, I can see I’m not gonna be able to get you to change your mind.”


“No, you’re really not. Face it, Will. You would have always put Tara before Xander or me, and if your love was strong enough you should have made her your first priority over your obsession with the magic. It’s the same way Xander should always have put Anya’s needs before ours if he really loved her as he much as he claims he does. We’re not in High School any more, Will. We’re adults now and that’s the way it should be. Can’t you see that? Besides, me saying you couldn’t stay here had nothing to do with Spike moving in. The two issues are completely separate. Spike’s here because he and I are together now and he needs to be close to help protect Dawn. I only said you couldn’t stay because you’d become too dangerous to have around with all the wonky spellage. I’m sorry, Wills, but I’m sure you’ll be able to find somewhere…”


When the two girls moved back towards the bedroom and the risqué banter resumed, albeit in a more subdued manner, Spike closed his eyes and smiled as he savoured the moment. She had resisted Willow’s pleas, and effectively chosen him over her oldest friend.


Just as Spike could hear Buffy making her final preparations to leave, Xander finally plucked up the courage to approach him. He stood framed in the doorway and firmly declared, “I don’t like you.”


Spike snorted, “Think I got that, yeah.”


The young man heaved a resigned sigh as he stepped out onto the porch. “But I think I finally get it. It doesn’t matter that I don’t like you, or that I think Buffy deserves better than you. Buffy hearts Spike, and with this Mating Bond thing, you and she are going to be together. It’s one of those fatal accomplishment things. So… if I want to be around Buffy I’m gonna have to get used to being around you too.” He squared his shoulders and resolutely declared, “It seems you’re one of the gang now, whether I like it or not, and to make life easier for Buffy I’m gonna try to make nice with the resident undead.”


Spike couldn’t help feeling sceptical. He’d heard this before. Twice. He regarded the young man doubtfully. Perhaps it would be a case of third time lucky.


Before Spike could speak, however, Xander continued, “But just so you know. If you ever hurt her…”


Spike rolled his eyes impatiently. Here was the familiar old song. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You’ll stake me good and proper.” He regarded the increasingly overweight young man critically. He may have been attending weekly self-defence classes… he’d have to check with Buffy that he was actually showing up… but they surely weren’t helping him shed the extra pounds. Inhaling to speak again Spike cringed at the overwhelming stench of stale beer. And some not so stale. Well, that was just… distasteful, and also explained a lot. He sneered, “Or at least you’ll try…”


Buffy then emerged, brushed past them and proceeded down the path. Spike started to follow, but then a thought occurred to him. He turned back to Xander and in a serious tone quietly said, “You do realise that staking me is gonna hurt her more than anything I could do, yeah? You saw what she was like when the Bond was broken by that portal just for a few seconds. Just imagine her feeling that way for the rest of her life.”


He had another realisation and added, “Another thing. If we’ve got it right, that bloody prophecy says I’m gonna die to close the Hellmouth and then come back to fight beside Angel. Slayer’s gonna be in a right state with the Bond broken while I’m gone and we don’t know how long she’ll have to wait. If that happens during your lifetime she’s gonna need you to stick close and look after her until I’m brought back. Remember that, yeah?”


Xander’s eyes went wide as he registered the truth of Spike’s statement. He solemnly nodded and promised, “I’ll remember. She can count on me.” He shrugged and added in an ironic tone, “Glad to know I can be of some use to her.”


Spike’s scarred eyebrow went up as he recognised how redundant the young man had been feeling lately. Until recently he would have jumped at the opportunity to take advantage of the insight and would have taunted Xander with his perceived inadequacies, but now he felt unaccountably sympathetic.


“Don’t you know she couldn’t do this without you? You’re her anchor to this sorry world. You, the witches, demon bint and the Bit, you’re the reason she keeps going. When she’s exhausted or injured and is tempted to give up and welcome the peace of death… again… she looks at you and she sees all the faceless helpless gits out there who don’t have a clue about what goes bump in the night. She doesn’t know them. She can’t see how she affects their lives and doesn’t get a word of thanks from them for saving their useless fat arses time after time, but you she can see. You, she can save.” He prodded Xander with an emphatic forefinger. “And you, you daft berk, you’re her bit of ‘normal’ to keep her connected to life. Your humanity… your heart is the glue that keeps this crazy bunch of weirdos and misfits together and grounded in reality. Don’t ever think she doesn’t bloody need you.”


Xander gaped at him for a few seconds as he rubbed at the bruise forming on his chest then a slow smile softened his face and he murmured thoughtfully, “I’m the heart…”


Spike knew that it was highly unlikely that the pair of them would ever truly be friends, but he also knew that his innate courage and the loyalty Xander had shown towards Buffy over the years could make all the difference to his Mate’s wellbeing in the future.


As long as he could keep his alarming tendency to act like a complete and utter pillock to a minimum.


Somehow, recognising that fact was enough to dispel much of the animosity he felt towards the man and he gave him a little nod of approval before turning and trotting to catch up with Buffy who was standing under the streetlight on the corner with her arms folded across her chest and one foot tapping impatiently on the pavement.


As they headed off towards the docks he tried to make sense of his Mate’s emotions. “You okay, Buffy love?”


She huffed irritably. “Yeah, I guess. It’s just… when did they all stop trusting my judgement and start trying to make all my decisions for me?”


Spike had a good idea that the name of his Grandsire would feature largely in the answer to that question, so for once he kept silent.


Buffy continued in a thoughtful tone, “And more importantly, when did I start accepting it and let them?” She sighed as she shook her head resolutely and waved her arms emphatically. “Well, no more! From here on out, I’m gonna be all AutonomousBuffy!”


“Red tried to convince you to get rid of me and let her move back in, eh?”


“Yeah. She’s not a happy bunny. I made it plain you weren’t going anywhere…”


“So where was she figuring on sleeping? Whether I’m there or not, there’s only the three rooms; yours, Dawn’s and Tara’s. I suppose she intended to cosy up to Tara again. Don’t reckon she’s considered whether poor Pickle would like that.”


“She seemed to take it for granted that Tara really wants them to get back together and is sure to cave to her pleading before long. I can’t help wondering though…”


“As long as she doesn’t do another soddin’ spell to make things go her way.” Spike’s voice held oceans of bitterness as he added, “Bloody witch.”


“But you like Willow!”


“Well, yeah. Used to. Used to have a soft spot for her when she was all shy and sweet and… Willowy. She was the only one of the lot of you who was even remotely sympathetic after the chip, but she’s been different since you… since that night when… that is…”


“You mean since I died?”


“Well, yeah. She’s the one who took over responsibility for the Slaying that summer. Rupert was… well… he was broken really. He was hanging on by a thread and drowning his sorrows in booze and I wasn’t any better. Harris was useless, Anya was busy with the Magic Box and didn’t much care and Tara was the one concentrating on Dawn, so Red was the one who fixed the ‘bot to make the local baddies believe you were still around then got us all organised and gave the orders. She loved it at first, being the leader. Being the Slayer, really. Then of course after a while she found out just how much hard work’s involved with the Slaying, how relentless the fight against evil really is, night after night after night. Not to mention how downright bleedin’ dangerous it is without a Slayer there to fight the big nasties. I reckon that was when she hatched the plan to bring you back, so she could hand back the burden and get on with her own life. ‘Course she’d got accustomed to being in charge and having us all jump to her tune by then. She still wants it, still wants everything to go her way. Haven’t you noticed how downright scary she can be when people don’t behave the way she reckons they should? Like now, when she wants to return to the fold…”


“You think…? But she wouldn’t! She has to know….” Buffy deflated. “Oh who am I trying to kid? Thankfully if she does try anything Althanea will know right off and will be able to do something about it. Giles told me she’s formed a mystical link to Willow’s powers so she can tell immediately when Will does a spell. Kinda like an early warning thingy.”


“God, that’s a relief. At least now I know if I wake up one day as a sodding toad it won’t be too long before I get switched back!”


Buffy did that adorable scrunchy nose thing. “Oh yuck. I don’t want to wake up with a hoppy toad in my bed, ‘cos that would just be ew. There’s the wart factor to be considered. I’m well known for being generally anti-wart.”


Spike chuckled. “I’m with you on the warts issue, Slayer. Warts are just plain unsightly.”


They walked hand in hand in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, but Spike could tell there was something else preying on Buffy’s mind. As he turned to her to ask her what was bothering her, she spoke. “What you did for Xander back there… that was really kind of you. ‘Specially after what happened this afternoon. I know he’s been feeling a bit left out of things since Anya broke up with him and I had to tell him I didn’t need him for training any more, but I didn’t know how to make it better.”


Spike felt uncomfortable at being caught out doing something nice for the Scooby who had always been the least accepting of him. He muttered sulkily, “Didn’t do it for him. Did it for you.”


Buffy smirked up at him. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that. You never know, you might actually convince yourself.”


Spike shook his head insistently. “You need him and he needed to know that so he doesn’t go off and do something stupid. Lad’s been feeling isolated and useless and drinking too much to ease the pain.” He shrugged self-consciously. “Believe me, I know all about that. Took me a while to figure it out…” He snorted ironically. “…well, a century or so… but it really doesn’t make anything better in the long run.”


After a few seconds Buffy took a deep breath and enthusiastically tugged him to go faster, “Come on, Spikey! Forget the Scooby problems. We’ve got vamp hos to hunt. It’s gonna be such fun!”

******

Spike was startled out of his focus on Buffy’s dancing figure by a hand brushing over the prominent bulge in his jeans, which was clearly evident from the drape of the hip-length brown leather jacket over a plain white button down shirt he was wearing instead of his customary black t-shirt and precious duster. All part of the disguise the girls had dreamed up for him.


There was a husky whisper in his ear. “You shouldn’t be wasting your time on that little girl. She won’t be able to give you what you want. You come with me, handsome. I’ve got just what you need.”


Remembering the mission just in time, he managed to prevent himself from flinching away from the touch. He turned to see a black vampiress leaning on the bar beside him and gave her a long slow assessing look up and down. She was wearing platform shoes with extremely high heels making her the same height as him and was dressed very provocatively in black satin hot pants and a body-hugging low cut scarlet halter top that accentuated her full breasts. Her long crinkly hair was braided in a very complex style and pulled back into a scarlet silk scarf and she was wearing far too much make-up. All in all it was an outfit that blatantly proclaimed her profession to the world.


Evidently sensing his hesitation she added, “We’re not supposed to go with other vamps… he says there’s no point if you can’t get both blood and bounty but in your case…” She licked her lips hungrily and darted an appreciative glance at his straining jeans. “…I think I might take the risk and make an exception.”


Oh, bloody hell, Spike thought. Now what was he supposed to do? The plan the girls had hatched hadn’t covered the possibility of a vamp hooker coming on to him. They were supposed to home in on the BuffyBait and try to take her out for poaching on their territory. He was only there to watch her back!


He had been so intent upon ogling the Slayer’s sexy dancing and glowering jealously at all the human men she’d been flirting with he hadn’t even sensed the female vampires coming into the club. Now his attention had been drawn to them, of course, he could feel several more of them fanning out among the unsuspecting patrons.


He considered; what would Buffy do? His Slayer would improvise. Right, he could do that.


Giving himself a quick mental shake, Spike gave the girl a friendly pat on the arm forcing himself not to shudder at the sensation of her cool skin under his hand. Over the past few months he had become so accustomed to Buffy’s vital heat the vampire’s lack of human warmth felt repulsive.


Desperately trying to come up with a workable stratagem he played for time and murmured sympathetically, “Who said you’re not supposed to go with other vamps, pet? Surely you can go with whoever you want?”


She gave a resigned shrug and pouted in a mockery of shy coyness as she rubbed up against him and started stroking his chest. “Our Sire, Tarquin made all the rules. He picked the six of us off the street in LA and turned us. We have to do exactly as he says or he’ll lock us up in the lair and won’t let us feed. He kept threatening to dust us if we took too long to learn to obey. We didn’t believe him at first but then he killed poor Velvet just ‘cos she kept forgetting to empty her marks’ pockets and dump the bodies after she’d drained them. That’s why we had to clear out in a hurry and ended up in Sunnydale. She left this one guy right outside the lair and drew that traitor vampire straight to us.”


Spike coughed in an attempt to disguise his snort of mocking laughter at the thought of a vampire allowing anybody to call him Tarquin. He took the opportunity to gain thinking time by taking another drink.


Setting his now empty glass back down on the bar he didn’t resist when she took a firm grip on his hand and drew him off his stool. She looked a question at the sweaty pock-marked human barman who nodded towards a half-hidden door at the end of the bar. In a voice made harsh by the foul-smelling Turkish cigarettes he was chain smoking the man told her curtly, “Don’t forget; twenty minutes.”


As he was led along a short corridor into a small, shabby, dimly lit room furnished with a large stained couch and a few odd tables and chairs Spike, who was still trying to come up with delaying tactics, asked, “What’s your name then, pet?”


“Angel. What’s yours?”


This time Spike couldn’t suppress a snort of laughter. The irony of an undead hooker calling herself Angel was hilarious. This was perfect taunting material for the next time he saw his Grandsire.


When he saw the girl’s hurt expression he allowed her to pull him down to sit on the filthy couch beside her and patted her leg. “Sorry, pet. Just that I know another vamp called Angel, and you don’t look much like him. Name’s…” He thought frantically, he couldn’t give the girl his real name or there would be a very real possibility that his ‘cover’ would be blown. He came out with the first thing he could think of. “…Randy, pet.” Smirking as he caught the humour in his choice, he added, “Randy by name and randy by nature, that’s me.”


He leaned back into the couch, stretched his legs out in front of him crossed at the ankles and folded his hands behind his head. Sucking his teeth thoughtfully he asked, “So… how long we got before this Taaaarquin turns up to check up on you all then?”


The hooker turned until she was kneeling on the couch beside him then moved to straddle his lap. Resting her hands on his chest and pressing her arms together to emphasise her best assets she pouted petulantly. “Do we have to talk about him? Let me make you feel good.”


She ducked her head to nuzzle at his neck, expertly stimulating the most sensitive of a vampire’s erogenous zones as she undid a few of his shirt buttons and stroked her hands down his chest, scraping her long painted nails over his sensitive nipples. Whether she was aware of the significance of his bite scar or not, she had selected the unmarked side of his throat so she wasn’t repelled by the Mating magic.


Spike’s hands transferred themselves to her waist as his body’s autonomic responses kicked in, making his hips buck up under her in search of friction and forcing a strangled moan of desire from his throat.


Inwardly cursing his traitorous body he gathered his scattered wits, took a firm grasp on her wrists and pushed her into a more upright position. Taking a deep breath he tried for a joking tone. “The guy behind the bar said we’d only got twenty minutes. That’s not long enough for a proper shag, pet. He’s human, i’nt he? What’s with him helping vamps anyway? Gets a cut, does he?”


Resigned to waiting for her fun until after she’d satisfied Spike’s curiosity, Angel sighed and answered, “Yeah, Tark passes the little sleazebag the guys’ credit cards. It’s not like we have any use for them anyway. He limits us to twenty minutes each so we can try to take at least two marks each a night.” She shrugged. “It’s not a problem. We don’t usually bother with the sex. We don’t need to once we’ve seduced them away from their friends and got them alone, so it’s just when we’re feeling really horny...” She smirked and pressed herself down into the bulge in his jeans and added huskily, “…or the guy is really cute…”


When Spike failed to react, she resignedly resumed a matter of fact tone and continued, “Once we’ve fed we strip them of anything of value and their keys in case there’s a car or apartment to be had and then dump the bodies before going back out to find the next guy who looks as if he might have some money in his pocket.”


Spike nodded in appreciation of a well-thought-out system. He relaxed his hold on the hooker’s wrists and repeated his original question, “So when’s your Sire due to appear then, pet? Don’t rightly feature getting into a barney tonight. Fancied a night of fun without the violence for once.”


“Is that why you were ogling that little human girl? Didn’t think a vamp as old as you would want to play with your food like that.”


“Ah, well that’s the thing, pet. I got this kink, see.” He chuckled in mock embarrassment and stroked his hands up and down her arms as she once more began petting him. “I like my women hot. Got this thing for a bird with a heartbeat once in a while. Don’t get me wrong, vamps have got the strength and stamina and like a bit of rough, and that suits me just fine most of the time, but to my way of thinking there’s nothing to beat a warm willing human woman. If they’re good enough I don’t even kill’em. Some of them like a bit of fang with their shag too, they’re the best kind. Reckon the bint out there’s one of those. She’s got a vamp scar on her neck so she’s got real promise.”


Angel paused in her movements and cocked a speculative eyebrow. “Really? I’ll have to point her out to Tark when he gets here at closing time. He might want to turn her to take Velvet’s place. I didn’t realise she was on the game, she smells clean.”


Aha! That explained why the girls’ plan had backfired. They hadn’t taken a vampire’s keen sense of smell into account. Vampires would expect a hooker to carry the scent of recent sex with at least one man, more commonly several. He should have thought of that and mentioned it when the girls started their plotting. Now, how could he utilise that oversight and bring it into his revised scheme? Oh yeah…


“Ah, well that’s another thing, pet. Girl who takes the risk of going with the better class of vamp will know we don’t generally like taking sloppy seconds. She’ll no doubt only turn one trick a night and charge accordingly. Was just gonna approach her when you turned up.” He cocked his head to one side and his eyelids fluttered closed as he surrendered to the fantasy and dreamily mused, “Hope she doesn’t take up with another vamp before we’re done here. Tiny little thing like that looks as if she might be a nice tight fit… Bet she tastes real sweet too…”


“You’ve got to be kidding me! I know I said we could have some fun hunting these vamp ho’s, but that so wasn’t the kinda fun I meant!”


Emerging from his erotic reverie Spike blinked as the female body obscuring his view of the room abruptly vanished and through a cloud of falling dust his eyes fell upon a diminutive leather-clad figure wearing a mightily pissed off scowl. Her arms were tightly folded across her chest emphasising her corset-enhanced cleavage, her face was flushed and her exposed skin was glowing with a sheen of perspiration from her energetic dancing. She was glorious in her furious indignation. The slender length of wood tapping against her shapely bicep was a telling clue to what had happened to his late companion.


Gesturing at the stake Spike stammered, “Uh… watch what you’re doing with that thing, Slayer… ‘cos… er… ‘cos this really isn’t what it looks like…” Spike grimaced guiltily as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.


A disbelieving eyebrow shot up. “Really? So… you’re trying to tell me you weren’t only cosying up to the skanky Naomi Campbell wannabe to get info?”


Spike cleared his throat nervously and shrugged. “Well then… all right… perhaps it was what it looks like…” He chuckled self-consciously and looked up at her anxiously through his eyelashes, bracing himself for her righteous anger.


Her eyes raked his form from head to toe as she snarled, “There’s just one problem with that scenario, Spikey. You see, I could feel how much you were enjoying yourself…”


Spike glanced down to where her eyes had come to rest and discovered that while he had been fantasising about ‘Buffy The Hooker’ Angel had finished undoing his shirt which lay spread out at his sides completely exposing his marbled chest, and what was worse his belt and jeans were both unfastened, openly displaying just how eager he was.


“Was thinking about you, Slayer!” Spike protested hastily as he stood up to brush Angel’s dusty remains off skin and fabric and started fumbling with his fastenings. “Got a bit caught up in the undercover role d’you see, and was telling her how much I fancied you…”


A smug little smirk twitched at the corners of Buffy’s mouth. “Yeah, caught that bit. So I’m your hot little bit of kink, huh… Randy?”


Pausing for a second Spike mentally ran back through the conversation he’d had with the vampire. He asked suspiciously, “Just how long you been standing there, Slayer?”


“Long enough.” She stepped forward and batted his hands away from where he was trying to tuck himself away and zip up his jeans. “See this?” She grabbed hold and squeezed just hard enough to make Spike gasp in pleasurable pain and his eyes roll back in his head. Huskily she said, “I think you were in danger of forgetting; nobody gets to touch this but me! Get it?”


“But Buffy…”


“I said, get it?” The pressure increased enough to prompt a strangled moan from the immobilised vampire.


“Got it, Buffy darlin’.” He ground out. “My dick belongs to you.”


She growled softly into his ear, “And don’t you forget it!”


When the pressure eased enough to allow him to think with his upper brain Spike asked hopefully, “When you say that nobody can touch it but you, Buffy, you don’t mean I can’t…?”


The hand clamped down again. “First, this morning you give yourself a happy without me, and now I find you fondling one of the very vamps we’re supposed to be staking. It looks as if someone’s gonna need a bit of training to keep his hands to himself.”


Spike shuddered with sheer lust at the thought. As always his mouth worked faster than his brain. “That’s the point, Slayer. It’s my hands I’m talking about. Fella needs to…”


His brain and mouth both stopped working as the appendage in question was abruptly sheathed in moist heat. His hands tangled in her hair as she sucked enthusiastically then allowed him to slip back out of her mouth until she could grip the bulbous head between her teeth. She nipped him sharply and insisted in a slightly muffled voice, “This isMine!”


His hips reflexively jerked forward as he gasped, “Oh God! Yeah! Bloody hell! All yours, Buffy!”


When the heat was abruptly withdrawn and Buffy straightened up wearing a very wicked little smile Spike opened his eyes and pleaded desperately, “God, woman! Don’t stop now! You can’t get a bloke’s motor running like that and then just… stop!”


Ignoring his predicament, Buffy calmly finished doing up his jeans and belt and started on the shirt buttons. “Your dark Angel said there were five vamp ho’s in Sunnydale. When I went to the bathroom I found one of them hanging about outside the men’s room and dealt with her. That’s what I was coming to tell you. That leaves three more for us to take care of while we’re waiting for their Sire to show up.” She patted Spike’s crotch fondly and addressed it directly. “Patience, little one. All good things come to those who wait.”


“Little one?” Spike spluttered indignantly at the back of his Mate who had turned to go back out into the main body of the club, hips swaying seductively as she walked. His hands automatically went to adjust his family jewels within their snug denim prison as he started following her.


He only managed to get in one comforting pat before a quietly imperious voice drifted back to him. “Hands off my property!”


His hands hastily jerked away from his crotch and went to straighten his rumpled shirt and settle his leather jacket more comfortably on his shoulders. Running his fingers through his hair as he tried to get back into character he sulkily muttered to himself. “Bloody bossy woman. Get a bloke going then… pht! Man can only take so much teasing before he blows, you know. Fella’s got needs…”


He was brought up short at the door back into the bar by a pair of narrowed misty green eyes. Teasingly, Buffy murmured, “Oh shut up. You know you love it.”


Spike inhaled deeply of the aroma of power and arousal she was exuding. He curled his tongue behind his teeth and leered at her as he considered denying it. There wasn’t really much point. When she rolled her eyes impatiently he sheepishly admitted, “Well… yeah.”


Buffy smiled and patted his cheek fondly then took a deep breath and pulled the door open as she resolutely declared, “Right. Vamp ho’s here we come.” A flicker of distaste crossed her expression. “God, this place smells even grosser than Willy’s, with all the people drinking and dancing and sweating and… I’d hate to think what else. Giles has been helping me focus on tuning out the supersensage when I don’t need it. I’m so totally gonna have to work harder on that.”


As they stood surveying the sweaty seething throng Spike sensed her increased focus as she went fully into Slayer mode. She twisted her wrist and slid the thin stake up under the side of her leather corset top where it added to the boned effect of the garment, which answered his earlier question of where she had been keeping it, and reflexively tugged at the hem of her tiny skirt so it fit more snugly over her hips in preparation for the inevitable fight ahead.


“We’ve established I still suck at undercover, ‘cos I so totally forgot the scent thing, so we can scrap the original plan.” Buffy’s voice went flatly menacing. “I’m just gonna have a quiet word with that slimy barman about the hazards of doing deals with the evil undead…” She reverted to her former light cheery tone as she sing-songed, “…and then a-hunting we shall go.”

******

Spike slouched against a handy packing crate and puffed at a cigarette as he avidly watched Buffy fighting the last vampire hooker. With the moonlight glistening off her figure as slender, well muscled limbs flexed and spun, she was glorious to behold.


The first two of the remaining female vampires had been simple to despatch. They had been easy to pick out as they tried to isolate their ‘clients’ in the back room as they were accustomed to doing, only to be thwarted when they found the door locked and the barman who was supposed to aid them sullen and uncooperative, refusing to meet their eyes.


This last one though, she’d been smarter. Something must have made her suspicious so she’d decided to lure her ‘client’ outside into the maze of wharfs and warehouses before revealing her true nature.


It had taken a few precious minutes for Buffy and Spike to notice the feeling of a vampire close by had faded, and a few more to make their way out of the crowded club into the night. Once they had escaped the distraction of loud music and shoving drunken bodies however, it took only seconds for them to locate the statuesque brunette in the gaping entrance to a nearby warehouse where she had cornered her prey.


As soon as they had come in sight Buffy had skidded to a stop and the vampire had lifted her face from the man’s neck and glared at her. With blood dripping from her fangs she snarled, “Oh, you’re a pretty little thing aren’t you? You’ll make a fine dessert.”


Buffy just stared for a moment then hesitantly stammered, “Ri… Richard? What are you…?”


The young man wobbled slightly and gave a little wave, blinking and grinning weakly as he mumbled in a slurred voice, “Oh… hi there, Buffy. How’re you doin’?”


Shaking her head briefly Buffy sprang into action and aimed a fist at the vampire’s head.


Letting go of Richard the hooker turned to face Buffy and parried the punch with an upraised arm. “Ooh! A fighter! I’m going to enjoy this. I had a karate black belt, you know! A girl in LA in my line of work needs to be able to defend herself!”


Gesturing for Spike to take charge of the bewildered young man, Buffy grinned excitedly as she concentrated on the surprisingly skilled vampire.


Spike tried to persuade the staggering human to head back towards the club. He was clearly worse the wear for alcohol and slightly weakened from blood loss, but Spike could hear his heart still beating strongly so knew he wasn’t in any real danger.


Richard resisted Spike’s guidance and tried to turn back, mumbling something about needing to go and get his money back from the thieving ho, but Spike held him firm. “You don’t wanna do that, lad. Let the Slay… that is, Buffy… deal with her. Let’s get you back to your mates, shall we?”


Pouting drunkenly, Richard protested, “But that’s not fair!” He modulated his voice to what he mistakenly considered to be a confidential whisper and turned to Spike, breathing beer fumes all over him as he added, “It’s Martin’s stag night, you know, and I was so gonna get laid. Do you know Martin? You could join us for a widdle drinkipoo…” He added hopefully, “P’raps we could find ‘nother hooker…?”


“No lad, I don’t know Martin. Come on now, pretty boy; forget the bleedin’ hookers will you…”


“Aw, party pooper. You’re a meanie pooper, that’s what you are.” He heaved a melodramatic sigh and whined sadly, “It was so hot in there and she had such lovely cool hands…”


Spike snorted, “Yeah well… In this town you can forget the old saying ‘cold hands: warm heart’. Around here it should be ‘cold hands: bloodthirsty murdering fiend’.” He gestured at the human’s neck where two unusually neat little holes were still slowly seeping blood. “You’ll need to get that seen to, mate.”


Richard put a hand to his neck and then held it in front of his face and squinted at it. He grumbled, “Christ! I’m bleeding! The filthy ho bit me!” Infuriated, he wheeled around. “I’m gonna go teach that bitch a lesson…”


Grabbing a flailing hand, Spike managed to get the drunk turned around a full three hundred and sixty degrees so that he was still stumbling in the correct direction.


Richard was still complaining sulkily as he stumbled along, but the hooker had been forgotten and he had found a new topic. “Buffy has weird friends, you know, and all this strange stuff happens around her.” He nodded wisely. “You should keep your wits about you if you’re gonna start hanging around with her. She’s got a whole chestful of weapons in her living room. That’s just not normal.” After a few moments he rubbed his shoulder and pouted pitifully, “I got stabbed, you know…”


Spike rolled his eyes impatiently and ignored all the rambling until a few moments later he could usher him back into the Fishtank where a group of dishevelled young men wearing assorted female undergarments over their clothes noisily surged forward to claim him.


Seeing him safely ensconced at a table holding a napkin to his neck and supping a fresh glass of beer as he regaled his equally drunken friends with a garbled tale of a hooker with cold hands who had given him a really ginormous hickey then got into a chick fight with this really peculiar girl he knew, Spike turned and sped back to where Buffy was still fighting.


When he turned into the cavernous warehouse and the two protagonists came into view he relaxed. Buffy had the matter well in hand. The fight was fast and furious but he could tell that his Slayer wasn’t stretching herself. There was a wide smile on her face and he could tell she was thoroughly enjoying herself. She was deliberately prolonging the battle and treating it as a training exercise.


He lit up and settled in to watch the show. He wasn’t disappointed. With each energetic manoeuvre his Slayer made, that scandalously short skirt was riding up further and further until one particularly high kick revealed the hoped for leather thong, and then when Buffy spun to land a full power left hook on the increasingly battered vampire’s face her gorgeous little peach of a bum was fully exposed.


Spike flicked the stub end of his cigarette away as he lurched forward, irresistibly drawn by the erotic vision in front of him.


As if sensing his approach, Buffy slipped her slender stake from her corset top and casually pierced the exhausted vampire hooker’s heart. She turned to grin excitedly at Spike, exclaiming, “And another one bites the dust!”


Spike paused in shock, “Please tell me you didn’t just say that. Run out of original quips, Slayer?”


Panting, she shrugged apologetically. “Bit distracted…” Her chest was heaving, her skin was flushed and her heart thundering away. She kept her eyes fixed upon his as she sashayed purposefully towards him.


Then she was in his arms, her fingers twined in the short hairs at the nape of his neck, her mouth crushed against his.


Then there were hands groping and clutching, tongues probing and teeth nibbling and frantic moaning and gasping filled the night air.


Before he knew what was happening there was a waft of fresh air around his groin and a hot little hand grasped his eager erection.


She gasped into his ear, “Tell me again why we waited so long for this? We could have cut the movie night and spent the time in bed!”


Spike moaned as he tore away the only barrier keeping him from her molten core and began to tease the slick swollen flesh he found there, “Dunno, darlin’. Seem to remember you threatening something about making me burn…”


Buffy pouted, “I think I discovered the fatal flaw in that plan. Turns out you were right and there was Buffyburnage too…”


Spike was so distracted by the sensations echoing back to him through the Bond that it was a moment before he realised that his Mate had stiffened in his arms and that when she turned her mouth away from his it wasn’t to gasp for breath but to frown towards the beam of moonlight streaming through the gaping warehouse entrance.


He murmured absently, “Whassup, love?”


Buffy gripped his arms to still his movements and hissed, “Sshh… Listen! There’s someone coming!”


All Spike could hear was the uneven footsteps and muttered conversation of two, possibly three people stumbling drunkenly along close by. They didn’t appear to be getting any closer, but he could understand that Buffy’s inexperience with her enhanced senses might lead her to think they were right outside.


Shrugging slightly and nuzzling into her neck as he resumed his attentions he muttered, “’S’all right, baby.”


Suddenly he found himself lying back on a pile of... what turned out to be sacks of polystyrene packing nuts… watching Buffy get into a fine fluster while simultaneously frantically trying to tug her skirt back down, tidy her tousled hair and draw up the laces of her gaping top to cover her breasts.


He pouted sulkily up at her, idly pumping his lonely erection as she urged him in a hoarse whisper, “Get up, Spike! Idiot vampire! Didn’t you hear me tell you there’s someone coming?”


“Not coming close to us, Buffy love. Listen…”


Gasping for breath, Buffy paused to listen. When the footsteps began to fade away into the distance she heaved a sigh of relief and relaxed.


“They’ve gone, sweetheart.” He curled his tongue behind his teeth and leered up at her, raising a beckoning finger. “Come on… fun’s just started.”


Buffy resolutely shook her head. “No, Spike. Look, it’s getting late and we’ve still got to go back to the Fishtank to get the skanky vamp pimp.” She went back to rearranging her clothing more carefully, a little smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she pretended not to notice Spike’s petulant pout.


“Aw… come on darlin’. You can’t just stop now..”


“Yes I can. Work comes before play.” Buffy frowned and started looking around on the floor.


Spike shrugged sulkily, “’S’not my work… wanna play now…”


One of Buffy’s eyebrows went up. “But it is your work now. Don’t forget, you’re my pale knight. It’s time for you to accept that and get with the knightage!” She bent to examine a patch of deep shadow then just as Spike sat up and reached out to stroke her bare bottom she straightened up again and rested her fists on her hips as she continued to look around in frustration. “Don’t suppose you saw what happened to my thong?”


Spike sighed resignedly and stood to pull his jeans back up. “Uh… no sweets, can’t say I did. It all happened a bit quick…” He discovered that in her haste to get to him Buffy had wrenched the top button completely off and the zip would only pull half way up before it got stuck on a bent tooth. He shrugged and buckled his belt securely, confident that it would hold his jeans up, and then straightened his shirt, which mysteriously only had three buttons left but effectively covered where his erection was threatening to exert enough pressure on the faulty zip to force it slowly down.


Buffy finished tying her corset laces and took a moment to look up around the warehouse then with a grimace of disgust she exclaimed, “God! I can’t believe we nearly… Look at this place! It’s gross! You couldn’t have waited until we found somewhere more comfortable?”


Spike bristled at the unfair accusation. Then he smirked and held the other out in a ‘shake hands’ gesture. “Yeah… right. How do Mrs Pot? Name’s Kettle,” prompting a chuckle from Buffy as they started back towards the club.


“So… how do you know the pretty boy then, Slayer? He seemed to know you quite well.”


Buffy’s laugh died abruptly and she turned ‘deer caught in the headlights’ eyes up to him. “Um… he works with Xander.”


It was glaringly obvious that there was more to it than that. “And…?”


Guiltly she whined, “He might have kinda been my blind date for my birthday party?” She hurriedly added, “Xander and Anya invited him, I didn’t know anything about it. Anya kept babbling about wanting to do ‘couple things’ together.”


Spike raised a quizzical eyebrow and asked, “Couple things?”


Buffy sniggered. “I know… I don’t think she meant the same thing that you’re thinking though.” She looked thoughtful for a second and with a wicked smile added, “Although knowing Anya…”


“And was it a good blind date?”


“Ah… that would be an emphatic no. You remember about the demon in the sword? Well it stabbed Richard before I could slay it.” She shrugged. “I suppose I should have learned after The Owen Incident in High School. A human was never going to be suitable BuffyBoyfriend material. They’re just too breakable.”

*****

They were slow dancing when the sense of another vampire impinged upon Spike’s awareness. Well, he supposed they could call it dancing. In actuality they were standing in the shadows at the edge of the dance floor closest to the exit gently swaying in time to the music. Buffy’s face was tucked into his neck where she was tantalisingly breathing warm moist air over her Claim mark and his nose was buried in her hair as he breathed in her heady scent.


Under cover of her trench coat his fingers were tracing feather-light trails over her bare skin, causing her to give the occasional shudder of pleasure while she skimmed her fingers over the skin of his chest and back under his shirt, sending thrills to his groin which were occasionally accentuated when her tongue flicked out to taste her mark or she writhed against him, setting up some delicious friction.


They were both becoming quite expert at stimulating each other to within a few seconds of climax in public, without anyone around them having the slightest clue what they were doing. Spike was both amused and exhilarated by the enthusiasm with which Buffy entered into the game.


The only time either of them allowed the mood to slip was when Spike winced and needed to readjust himself to prevent the broken zip from digging into his throbbing erection or when Buffy compulsively tugged at the hem of her skirt. She was hyper-aware that she had no underwear on under a skirt that barely covered her assets.


The first thing she had done when they re-entered the Fishtank was reclaim her trench coat and slip it on, then she had made a bee line for the ladies room. By the time she had emerged, freshly washed and combed, Spike had lined up drinks for each of them.


While there were groups of patrons still occupying tables and several couples making out in the dark corners, the dance floor held only a few couples clinging to each other as they swayed to the slow bluesy late-night songs, the rowdy crowd of dockers and slumming college boys having thinned as closing time aproached. While Spike sipped at his beer Buffy had gulped her diet coke quickly and gave a satified sigh then grabbed him by the hand and dragged him after her. “C’mon, Spikey. Wanna dance…”


Raising unfocussed passion-darkened eyes Buffy murmured, “He’s here, isn’t he?”


Spike glanced over at the door where a nondescript skinny youth was peering around the dark, slowly emptying club with a puzzled frown. He wasn’t as he had imagined the vampire pimp would look at all. He had expected to see a sleazy gangster type, or possibly a big black ‘brother’ dripping with gold jewellery. He hadn’t imagined anyone less imposing would willingly be known by the poncy name Taaaaarquin. He couldn’t even think the name without a mocking sneer, influenced by memories of a particularly cruel young member of the minor aristocracy by that name who had made his… that is Williams’… prep school days a living hell.


“Yeah, Slayer. He’s trying to figure out what happened to his girls. Can’t be a very experienced Sire, or he’d have known the exact moment each of them dusted.” He concentrate all his senses for a second on the figure that was gradually becoming more and more agitated, then snorted in disgust. “Wanker’s naught but a babe himself. Obviously hasn’t got half a clue, can’t be more than a year turned.”


“You sure it’s him?”


Spike looked over and met the thoroughly intimidated barman’s eyes and received a confirming nod. “Yeah, love. It’s him all right.”


Buffy pouted as she disentangled herself from his arms, tugged reflexively at the hem of her skirt and eased her slim stake out of it’s hiding place. “Well… that’s a bit of a letdown. I was hoping for another fight.”


She turned and casually wandered towards the door with Spike following closely, as if they’d just decided it was time to leave. As she passed the young vampire, without breaking her stride she raised her hand and thrust the stake unerringly into his heart.


Once outside she tied the belt of her trench coat, looked up at the stars and took in a deep draught of the cool night air to clear the stench of the club from her lungs. Letting it out again she heaved a disappointed sigh. “Guess it’s time to go home.”


“Reckon so.” He slid a hand up her silk clad leg under her coat and cupped her bare bottom. His voice deepening with desire he rumbled suggestively into her ear, “’Course if you still feel like a bit of rough and tumble we could take the… scenic route…”


She cocked her head whimsically as she gave the possibility her consideration. She mused, “Now.. there’s a thought…” Then with a swirl of black leather and a tantalising flash of long legs she leapt up onto the roof of a neighbouring building. Her voice floated down to her startled Mate as she disappeared into the night with an excited giggle. “’Course, you’d have to catch me first!”


Giving a shout of laughter, Spike exclaimed gleefully, “Now there’s my wanton wench!” and after briefly checking that his manly bits were in no danger from his broken zip he followed.


When he found a scrap of soft black leather on the second roof, he held it to his nose to confirm his suspicions. Yes, as he had thought, it was her skirt. He gave a crow of sheer delight as he tucked it into his jacket pocket and enthusiastically resumed the chase.


With a wide grin plastered across his face he tracked her by scent and his instinctive sense of her position, confident that at some point on the way home, when she’d found a suitable trysting place, she’d allow him to catch her.


TBC