Our Little Secret

Chapter One - School Harder

Credits: I did not create Buffy the Vampire Slayer, on which this Fanfiction is based, Joss Whedon did. I do not own it, Fox does. This fanfiction uses scenes and dialogue from the BtVS episode "School Hard" in order to set the scene and context. I have nothing to do with the creation of that episode and own no rights to it. I'll take them out if enough people are upset by it, but I really don't think the story is set right without them. See the premise explanation to see why.

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Contains: Semi-consentual sex, light bondage, fingering, oral sex, male-female sex, masochism, implied bisexuality

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Premise: You know the kind of retconning where they act like the new stuff was really in the old stuff, just behind the scenes? Y'know, like every villain past Saw III? That's what I'm doing. Except smutty. With Sunnydale's sexiest people.

Plus it might explain why Willow and Buffy's textbooks weren't with Buffy's purse when Xander went back to get her stake, or why Spike was so eager to kill a day early...

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ON WITH THE SHOW:

Willow followed Xander sulkingly to meet up with Buffy to ask about her meeting with Sheila and Snyder. Willow carefully eyed Sheila as she warmly greeted a long haired man that obviously was not a student there. She was jealous at the way Sheila pressed her body against him.

Proudly, she remarked that she had once been lookout for Sheila. Xander joked that she was bad, and she joked back that she was a rebel, and oh how she wished it were true.

Buffy was too peeved to be amused. Her getting singled out for violent behavior wasn't fair because she was the Slayer and that was who she had to be, while Sheila just seemed to enjoy causing trouble.

And soon after Xander cursed them all. In general, it was a typical day.

-

Later that night, a certain unaging punk threw his car through the Sunnydale welcome sign.

He stepped out of the car to survey what apparently compromised this cork in the asshole of hell. He lit his cigarette and took a drag. "Home sweet home," he decided unenthusiastically.

-

Spike made plans with the Annointed One. Willow made plans with Buffy. Neither could have seen what was coming. Although, if asked, Spike probably would have guessed it sooner.

-

Two weeks after Snyder had assigned Buffy to baby-sitting Sheila, she and the Scoobies found themselves at their favorite club... The only club worth mention, really.

"... 'The couch should touch me from Thursday'?" Willow repeated back to Buffy as she attempted to help her learn all the French she had been skipping in one night in a room full of distractions.

"Maybe that's what I was feeling," Buffy said, dodging responsibility for her terrible habits yet again.

"And you said it wrong," Willow pointed out.

Buffy grumbled. "I just stink."

"You're just not focused. It's Angel missage," Willow decided. After all, people with boyfriends missed them regularly, didn't they?

"Well... He didn't say for sure. It was a 'Maybe'/'See you there' kinda deal."

That was when Xander decided it would be the best time to check up on them. "Guys, I'm all alone out there! Somebody has to dance with me."

"Well, we are studying," Willow chastised, being noble again.

"Come on. One dance. You've been studying, what? Twelve minutes?"

"No wonder my brain's fried!" Buffy decided chirpily, hopping up from her stool and pulling Willow to the dance floor with her.

Spike had meant to be studying the Slayer, but couldn't help notice the dorky girl clinging to her. He could sense there was something under that skin. When she finally blossomed, she'd be something incredible. He didn't know what. Couldn't begin to guess. But he was certain it was inevitable.

Or would have been, if he hadn't decided to kill her. He'd get a tasty snack -virgins were always delicious- and throw the Slayer off her game all in one move.

But first, it was time for him to study his own subjects. And he wasn't keen on French. After a long and lusty examination from afar, he found a cohort and gave the brain dead animal a very simple instruction that even it could understand. "Go get something to eat."

Barely able to contain his grin, he stepped determinedly up to a random stranger who just happened to be positioned almost directly behind the Slayer. "Where's the phone?" he demanded. "I need to call the police. There's some big guy out there trying to bite someone." He wasn't even looking at the young man as he said it, watching like a hawk as the Slayer reacted and took off. He smiled to himself, and the young man assumed it had all been a joke and went back to what he had been doing. Spike, in turn, decided that he needed to be outside.

-

As the vampire fell to dust -as Spike knew he would, bloke was a moron, Crusafixion his ass- he applauded slowly for the Slayer, amused by the demonstration. "Niiice work, love."

The Slayer and her buddies' attentions were all on him. But only the redhead scanned him head to toe. Oh, she would be easy prey. Even knowing what he was. Even being the Slayer's best girl friend. She was a virgin and she wanted him; that would be plenty enough.

"Who are you?" Buffy asked. Not surprised. Not horrified. Not cocky. Perhaps, a little bit scared. She was unsure. Unready. He wasn't predictable. Wasn't planned. Wasn't familiar. She was off her game a bit just by finding him there. He liked that.

"You'll find out on Saturday."

"What happens on Saturday?"

"I kill you."

All she did was blink at him as he walked away. He barely repressed a giggle. At least she couldn't see his face. God, did he love killing Slayers.

But first... He was hungry. The redhead was now occupied, and Drusilla would be cross if he ate before she did.

-

He caught her outside a much shadier bar. Probably got in with a fake ID that they didn't even really glance at. She was leaving with two young men who were probably more interested in eachother than in her, she was just an accessory to their coy little game, and she probably wouldn't have minded if she had known. But Spike knew Drusilla wouldn't be interested in the boys. A bad girl was just what she needed. Someone to punish so that she could feel righteous again.

-

The TV was on snow, her favorite chanel, among a field of darling dolls. She conversed with them, insisting to him that she wasn't hungry. He knew better. She was merely sulking because of her weakness. She hated prey she hadn't fetched herself. He assured her and made promises as he led her to the bed. She was always more compliant in bed, and she loved pretty promises, not a care in the world as to whether they were true or not.

He tossed himself past her. He didn't want to get her worn out. If he fucked her now, she'd be far to exhausted to eat in her weakened state.

She tried to convince him to go upstairs and make nice with the locals. She must have known he had found something for himself and become jealous. It irritated him that she didn't trust him. He gave in and promised that he would get chatty with the fellas; it didn't matter that it wasn't true. It was a bargaining chip. She needed to eat the lovely girl he had brought her.

And eat she would.

-

He hadn't entirely lied after all. On the way up, he did manage to somehow suck up to the lesser beings. Soon... Soon, this town would be in his control. But you can't turnover the existing regime in one night. Or three weeks.

-

He took out the safety pins from his clothes and ditched his leather coat behind the bush by the door. He knocked loudly. Eventually, the mother came to the door. A very serious and repressed-looking woman. He tried to hide his amused delight that this was the mother of his little red virgin. "Yes," she mumbled sleepily. Too sleepily to take much notice of him.

"I'm a friend of Willow and Buffy's. They were studying, and she left her bag, and I didn't notice until just now, and thought I'd drop it off before she had to go to school tomorrow."

"Yes, of course. Just set it at the bottom of the stairs."

Spike grimaced. That was not a proper invite. "Well, everyone's sleeping; I didn't mean to intrude..."

"I appreciate politeness, but you're already here. Come in, already. Leave it where I said."

Spike grinned and entered. He felt the old lady watching him like a hawk as he dropped off the bag and left. She locked the door behind him, not realizing that she had given him all the entrance he would ever need.

Picking up his duster and digging the pins out of his pocked -he was nothing if not vain- he headed back around the house to where he had already spied the girl through the lacy curtains of her French doors, of which he had easily broken the latch with barely a sound.

She slept quietly and undisturbed in an oversized t-shirt and very fuzzy sleep pants. He glanced around and snorted at the small room. It was an amalgamation of everything she had been in her short little life, and yet had not a single clue as to who she might be. She had a half decent fishtank, though. If you liked fish.

He shut the doors behind him. Locked her bedroom door. And silently, carefully climbed over her until he was hovering over her completely, not one single skin cell touching her. Gently, he pulled her arms free of the sheets, and carefully pinned them above her head with his right hand. She moaned slightly in her sleep... a sexual moan if ever he'd heard one, and he couldn't help but wonder if it was a coincidence of the geeky little Jewish virgin had a thing for that action.

He'd soon find out.

He roughly grabbed her mouth with his left hand, jarring her awake. She started to thrash but his weight was instantly on her wrists. "Sssh!" he warned. "If you wake anyone, I'll have to kill them all instead of just you. You wouldn't do that to your own family would you?"

The girl squeaked with terror.

"I am going to let my hand off your mouth. But if you scream, I'm just going to tie you to this bed, kill your parents, and torture you to death. So you're not going to scream, right?"

The girl whimpered. She was desperately trying to hold back tears. Trying to convince herself there was a way out of this when there so obviously wasn't.

Spike let go of her mouth. "There now. Isn't that better?"

"Y-y-you're going to kill me?"

"Mm. Eventually. I mean, I came here just to eat you but this..." He let go of her hands and grinned at the brief flash of disappointment on her face. He leaned back, sitting on her legs and looking at her predatorily. "This has reminded me of what I haven't been getting lately. A man has needs you know."

"Wh-wh-what needs?" She seemed genuine, and that made him laugh. After the way she had looked at him earlier that night and the way she had reacted to him pinning her, she was still too virginal to understand the obvious.

Spike grinned. "Same needs you don't know you have."

"I... I have needs?"

"Oh yes," he said, leaning over once more. "You need..." He grabbed a tit through her shirt, squeezed and rubbed his thumb over her clothed nipple, eliciting an instinctual gasp. "... a little tweaking."

"I-I-I don't--."

"Surely you don't want to die a virgin?"

"No. No, please. Don't. Kill me, but don't... Don't..." Could she say it? Don't fuck me? Don't pop my precious cherry? "It would upset my mother." She looked away when he snorted in disbelief. "It's bad enough that she'd have to bury her daughter. I don't want her to have to bury a ruined one."

For a second, just a second, Spike flashed back on his own mother. A terrible waste of a relationship that was, in hindsight, but that didn't mean that he didn't still love her just for being his mother. That he wouldn't have had similar wishes, were the roles reversed.

And he did something that he hadn't expected himself to do. He kissed her. He kissed her long and deep and passionately. At first, she didn't respond, startled. For a moment, she attempted to resist, convinced that she didn't want it. But soon, she caved, and her hot breath greeted his cold lips. She was soft and sweet, and, without even thinking about it, she arched up to meet his body with hers as he deepened the kiss, and she grabbed at his shoulder blades, yearning for more of his passion.

He pulled down the blankets that divided them, down to her waist so that it might not yet occur to her that he still intended to pop her cherry. Roughly, he pulled up her t-shirt and pulled it off over her head, before she could object. She attempted to cover her breasts with her arms, but he grabbed her wrists again, pulled off his belt with one hand, and lashed them to her bed post. She gasped as he did this. A gasp that was almost a moan. When he looked down at her, she blushed and desperately plead. "I'm sorry! I won't make any noise! I promise! Just don't kill my parents, please!"

Spike grinned. "Make any noise you like. Just so long as you don't wake them up. I hate getting interrupted."

She whimpered in terror, and his eyes moved to the body he had revealed. She was gorgeous. More so than he would have ever guessed. She was thin, but soft not toned. She was a peachy sort of pale, and blushing heavily. Her boobs were small, but nowhere near flat, perfectly round, perfectly pert, perfectly milky-peach and flushed with her embarrassment and slowly rising arousal.

Spike lightly brushed the top of her breast and watched her stretch toward the touch, gasping her little gasps. Usually, he was quick and rough with prey, but he hadn't fucked anything since Dru was attacked, and he was going to make this last all night. Her whispered pleas for him to stop only made it better, especially when she contradicted them with flushed skin, fluttering heartbeats, and erotic gasps. As he began licking, sucking, and lightly nipping at her nipple, he could smell her blood rushing and it made him all the more feral. At the same time, he could smell her beginning to get wet, and it excited him even more than his bloodlust. Oh, no, he would not be killing her soon.

He groped her harder, sucked harder, bit into the flesh of her breast forcefully, but not enough to break skin. "Aah!" she finally moaned upon the bite. She was having trouble hiding her excitement, and seemed to have difficulty keeping up her pleas. The hand on her other breast grabbed it so roughly that his nails would make little half-moons in the flesh, and he watched with delight as she bit her lip to keep from moaning too loudly.

"Now, now, love. Remember: If you wake them, I'll have to kill them." And there was that look of terror again. Good. He couldn't have her forgetting the element of danger involved.

He leaned back and pulled the sheets off completely in one quick and violent motion. In a similar fashion, he removed her pajama pants. He could see the twitch of her leg as she contemplated kicking him, but wisely she decided against it. With a hungry snarl, he grabbed her knees and forced them apart.

"No! Please! Please, don't!" she begged, crying.

Spike pouted, feigning disappointment as leaned over her again, face to face. "Really? You don't want me to?" She shook her head adamantly. Without breaking eye contact he reached down and slowly but firmly stroked the surface of her outer labia from top to bottom. She made a muffled grunt but no more. She still looked back at him with terror and tears in her eyes.

"You sure about that?" he asked again. She nodded her head enthusiastically. His finger touched her slit just lightly enough for the touch to register, but not enough to break through. He drew his finger across it from bottom to top so that the pad of his finger ended hovering just over her clit. This time, her response included a pelvic twitch, but still she didn't cave.

"Absolutely sure?" And again, she nodded, perhaps less enthusiastically but just as decisively. She almost gasped when his fingers parted her. And when he did to the inner labia just as he had done to the outer, she actually did gasp. He grinned.

"Completely confident that you don't want me to fuck you?" He didn't wait for her response this time to slide his finger all the way through her slit and right down to her hole, waiting there with just enough pressure on the spot to cause it to open just slightly. The rest of his fingers continued to massage her labia, while his thumb rested on her clit. His left hand was roughly kneading her right breast.

"Tell me. Say what you want," he ordered.

"I... I... I..." she gasped uncertainly.

Slowly he began the circle her clit with his thumb. "You, you, you what?"

"I... please..." The 'please' was very nearly a moan.

"Please what?" He twisted her nipple and thumbed her clit hard and she had to bite back a very loud moan.

"Don't..." The time, she did moan the word.

He became more aggressive with his administrations and her hips bucked into his hand. "Don't what?"

"Don't stop!" She looked away as soon as she said it, ashamed of herself, but unable to lie about her wishes any longer.

Spike chuckled to himself and plunged the finger in, slowly pumping in and out. As she moaned and arched her breasts into his touch and against his chest, he had meant to lick her neck but surprised himself by kissing her again. This time, she returned the kiss in desperate lust. Their mouths clashed together in urgent need, her tongue instinctually reaching to search his mouth, and he responded in kind.

He didn't stop when she came. Not a single thing he was doing. Instead, he plunged a second finger in and started pumping faster, not waiting for her orgasm to complete first. If he stopped kissing her, he knew she would have reached a new volume then, despite her desperate need to protect her family. As much as he might enjoy the brutality of additional murders, he really didn't want to be interrupted before getting his end of the bargain.

She struggled against the belt that tethered her arms over her head as she came a second time. Now, he plunged a third finger into her and went at a rapid pace. Her chest was heaving as her body writhed in pleasure. Her cries of bliss were only barely contained by his lips. She came a third time.

And he stopped. Stopped completely. He broke the kiss and leaned past her to unbuckle her wrists. As he leaned back into sitting position again, she curled up at the head of her bed, naked, terrified, and wracked with guilt over what she had enjoyed. She still hadn't come down from the effects either, and the look in her eye said that she desperately wanted more but was too ashamed to admit it. She was smart though. She knew he hadn't release her wrists because he'd changed his mind. The only question was whether he was going to kill her now or fuck her more first.

He let her rest for a few moments, knowing the silence and anticipation would only heighten her fear. As he did, he looked over her, examining her more thoroughly than he had before. It amazed him that she didn't realize how completely sexy she was. That she could have any man if she didn't wear dorky clothes that hid her gorgeous body. Possibly any woman.

Her long red hair draped over her milky chest and back like Godiva. Her lips were bright red and slightly swollen from the aggressive kissing. Her eyes were half-lidded in a combination of exhaustion and bliss.

With her attention on him, he looked down at his hand, covered in her cum and a small amount of blood. Wracked with orgasm after orgasm, she hadn't even noticed when he broke her hymen. Of course, now she knew, as she watched him lick it off his fingers. She looked away and a tear slid down her cheek.

"Do you want to die now?" he asked, sitting back at the foot of her bed with his legs stretched out at either side. He was a cocky bastard.

"N-n-no!" she stuttered, returning her attention with immediate terror.

"Then come over here."

Her eyebrow arched, uncertain of what he meant. He curled his finger at her and, reluctantly, she came across the bed on her hands and knees. Even if he hadn't been hard already, he certainly would be at a sight like that. Now, directly in front of him, she looked up at him with fear and confusion. Roughly he grabbed her wrist -eliciting another gorgeous gasp- and guided it to his crotch, causing her to finally notice the obvious. "Then perhaps it's time you returned the favor I granted you."

She bit her lip and glanced at the door. Not so much contemplating an escape route as reminding herself that compliance would keep her family safe. She lowered herself, giving him a fine view of her flawless back and perfect ass, to his crotch and carefully unzipped his jeans, not really surprised to find him without underpants beneath.

His cock was already completely hard, but she handled it like a fragile egg as she moved it and the jeans to make it more accessible to her. It was then that it occurred to her that if she did a good enough job, he might show mercy on her. Of course, he probably had lots of experience with plenty of women who had experience, and all she knew was from what little porn she was able to sneak glimpses of on her computer. Still, the cock appeared to be unflawed, circumcised, and of large but manageable size, so whether she died or not, at least sucking his cock wouldn't be as bad as it could have been.

She cried out softly as he grabbed her hair and pulled her head back so that her eyes met his. "This isn't a study session," he snarled. "Suck it or I'll wake them." Instantly, her lips were on him. With a deep breath, he leaned back again to enjoy her administrations. It had pleased him when she had responded to the hair pulling with an erotic gasp instead of a pained one. Hell, her nipples had even hardened. Despite being a virgin, the girl seemed eager for abuse. It seemed a waste that he wouldn't be able to take advantage of that with most of the night already gone and her little room being unequipped for it.

Her mouth slid as far down the shaft as she could manage. Realizing she had to choose between gagging and giving him what he really wanted, she decided that puking on his cock would only make him kill her sooner. So with one hand she grabbed the base of his cock, firmly but delicately, and began to pump it as, with her left hand, she reached down to cradle his balls.

Spike gave a moan of delight and thrust into her mouth as she began to bob her head and slide her tongue slide to side and up and down, thoroughly exploring every muscle of his cock. She didn't handle him the way a virgin would. Either she'd serviced before (perhaps in effort to retain her virginity), or she'd been studying for the occasion. Given how he had seen her act with Buffy at the bar, he could bet it was the latter.

Spike grabbed her hair to push her roughly to a rhythm of his choosing, his fingers pulling the follicles hard enough to cause her pain. She moaned against him. Oh yes, this girl loved pain. As he arched into her and kept forcing her to his control, he reached down with his left hand and began groping at her breast, each squeeze pressing his now extended sharp claws into her flesh. She moaned and the vibrations made him moan. They continued like this for several minutes. His hands moved between her hair and her breasts and clawing at her back and grabbing her waist or shoulders or neck. After what seemed so long to her, he finally came into her mouth. His sperm didn't seem to have much of a flavor, which really didn't make it any better, but she swallowed it dutifully.

She meant to ask him them for her freedom, but before she could, he shoved her onto her back, pulled his jeans further down and thrust his slightly softened cock into her. She clamped a hand over her own mouth to keep from moaning so loud that she might wake her parents. This was so much better than his fingers.

Spike continued humping her hard and angrily, like an animal, and she pulled herself against him, breasts pressed into his still clothed chest as she clawed at his back and bit into his shoulder in pleasure. He easily hit her G-spot, making her scream her pleasure against his shoulder, gasping when he withdrew. She was getting more fervent by the moment. Her hips undulated to his rhythm. Her torso writhed. Her legs and arms clung to him desperately. Her lips needed to taste every inch of his skin.

And, for a third time that night he kissed her. He kissed her as she came for a fourth time that night. And didn't stop until half an hour later, he came into her again. By then, some of her scratches were bleeding slightly and she had become so sensitive that his continued fucking was actually causing her pain, which, in turn, created its own sort of pleasure. So, when he finally came, he couldn't resist anymore. He clawed a line of blood between her breasts, eliciting the most delicious moan, and drank deeply of her.

As she lost consciousness and fell back in his arms like a ragdoll, he realized that the sun was close to rising. Cursing, he tossed her back onto the bed and fled.

-

Willow was pleasantly surprised the next morning when she woke up alive and naked with an ache between her legs and a tiny scar between her breasts to remind her that what had happened was not, in fact, a dream.

-

When Spike woke up later that night he did not have the same reaction. He paced angrily, occasionally picking up random objects just to throw them. He had wanted to kill Willow Rosenburg. Throw the Slayer off her game so that on Saturday with the fresh grief of losing her friend, a friend the coroner would surely inform her had been freshly fucked by her enemy.

And he had been stopped. Interrupted by one of the few weaknesses he couldn't do anything about. He felt... invalidated. He didn't like it.

He threw a plastic snowglobe Drusilla had picked up in Chicago at the far wall. It didn't so much break as bounce. Yet another unsatisfactory result to add to the list.

Now he wouldn't get to taste the girl's death, and Buffy would have total concentration on Saturday and had probably been preparing all the while he was sleeping. He only had tonight left to prepare. Tonight to do something terrible.

Where was the damn Slayer anyway? That's right, she was a running a school function.

Spike paused his pacing. A slow smile spread across his face. Buffy was distracted and unprepared and he might still get to kill her friend. He picked up a shining rock that Dru had been using as a paperweight and smashed it into the snowglobe, which did not bounce this time. "Let's slaughter two birds," he purred.