The Healing Pool

by Pipergirl

 

Under a veil of shadows, the demon watched his prey approach. Amber eyes gleaming, he stretched out his heightened senses to see her, to smell her, to feel her. He almost had her within his reach--tonight, he would feast on her blood, her fear, her...



"Spike! Get your ass out here now--I know you're hiding behind that tree!"

 


Bloody hell...

 


This was all Buffy needed to cap off her crappy day. Argument with mother? Check. Forget purse at home? Check. Get sunburn of a lifetime? Check. And now... Meet up with the most annoying vampire on earth? Check. She so needed to go to bed and pretend that this day never happened. She leaned back against a headstone and waited for the bleached wonder to move out where she could see him.

 

 

Something about the Slayer was off. As he walked out from behind the elm, duster billowing behind him, Spike eyed her over. Finally clueing in to what was different, a malicious sneer curled at the corners of his lips. Instead of the usual cute tank top and short shorts (well, she may be the Slayer, but you can't expect him not to notice something like that!), she had on a shapeless T-shirt and a pair of baggy sports shorts. "What's wrong, Slayer? Run out of your 'Whores-R-Us' outfits?"

 

His head snapped back at the contact made with her fist. "Bloody hell! What is it with you and my nose?" He dragged his fingers under his bloodied nose. Looking her straight in the eye, he brought them to his lips and slowly cleaned them off, cool tongue tracing their long and slender outline.



And, yet again, their eternal dance began. Spike threw a punch that Buffy easily ducked while aiming a roundhouse kick to his mid-section. Catching her foot, the vampire managed to hold her in place long enough to land a kick of his own and sweep his opponent off her feet. Jumping back to an upright position, the Slayer got in a few good punches before being grabbed by her shoulders.

 


Searing pain coursing through her, she let out a blood-curdling scream and pulled away from the bleached vamp's grasp. Tears welled in her eyes as she muttered a prayer of 'oh Gods' and 'ouch's.



Spike held back, watching the Slayer carefully. When he was sure she wasn't going to self-destruct he smiled to himself, proud that he'd caused her so much pain. All that time, he'd tried to kick her, punch her, but her weak spot had been her... shoulders? Nah, that really didn't make any sense. He leaned back against a headstone and watched as she walked over to the Potfield mausoleum and began to lean against it,

Buffy could feel him staring at her, but she didn't care. He'd happened to grab her where her burn was the worst, and now she needed something to cool her down. What better than the stone walls of a mausoleum? Well, maybe marble, but she wasn't going to get down on all fours to rub against the smaller markers. No, she wasn't going to give the bleached wonder the satisfaction of witnessing anything as debasing as that. Patience finally worn thin, she cursed at him. "Oh, go ahead and enjoy this while you can, Spike. When this sunburn goes away, you've got a date with a sharp piece of wood." She turned around so that her back rested against the cold wall, hoping that he wouldn't notice that she wasn't wearing a bra.



The vampire's face was awash in an orange glow as he lit himself a cigarette. The humor in the situation was apparent in his face. "So that'd explain why you're not wearing a bra, then would it?" He'd rather get staked than let her know that that had thrown him off his game, so he did the next best thing--taunt her about it. "Thought you'd decided to go au naturel there for a while, like those granola-eating flakes."


Ok, so her day was getting worse. Exponentially worse. The Slayer groaned and hid her face in her hands. "Ugh. So I fell asleep sunbathing. It was so nice out--there was a warm breeze, I was reading a good book, and I figured I'd rest my eyes for a while. Two hours later, it's Buffy thermidore." She raised her eyes to the sky, whining. "I've learned my lesson! Please make this day go away..."


Some sick, demented, part of Spike felt sorry for her. Maybe it was residual William, maybe not. For some reason he couldn't fathom, he wanted to help her. He watched her as she sat there, leaning against that mausoleum, nearly in tears from the pain. Ponce, he thought to himself as he tossed away the remains of his fag. A creature of impulsive nature, he acted on his mood before thinking it over. "Ok Slayer, get up."


Buffy looked up at the vamp's proffered hand. She hardened her features and ignored his offer, standing up on her own. Stupid bleached jerk--wouldn't give me a break even if I was bleeding out of my eyes... She poised herself for attack, legs spread shoulder width and hands out in front of her.

 

 

 

 

Spike turned and walked away. "Come on, Slayer. I'm not going to fight you. Not tonight, anyway." His lean form left the cemetery grounds, not looking back to see if she was following. He stopped under a streetlight, waiting for her to catch up to him. Although they were enemies, he knew the Slayer all too well. She wouldn't be able to resist the curiosity of what he had in mind for her, whether it would be to help or to hinder. He eventually sensed her behind him, heart beating a little quicker because of her pain and the fight they'd just had.

 

She didn't know why she'd followed him. Common sense dictated that she should ignore him and go have herself a nice cool shower to alleviate the pain of the sunburn. Stupid UV rays, she thought to herself. He'd stopped under the light at the corner of Wilkinson and 8th Street--he seemed to be waiting for her. Trying to appear nonchalant, she crossed her arms over her chest, wincing at the feeling of skin rubbing against skin. "Ok, Spike--spill. Why should I follow you, instead of going home and giving my nerves a rest?"

 


Fighting the urge to lunge at her, the vampire took a quick step towards her, and gently grabbed her wrist, holding her arm out straight. When she flinched and tried to pull back, he growled. "Calm down, Slayer. I just want to see how bad this burn is. Couldn't really tell out there in the cemetery." He tugged her shirtsleeve up, not allowing it to rub against her arm or shoulder, and took in a breath. "Cor--you really weren't joking, were you?"


 

Her sarcastic reply was automatic. "Oh, of course I was. I'm faking. That's just some red body paint that I put on so you would pay attention to me." She yelped as she felt the sleeve roughly dragged back down.


"You know, I'm about to offer you a favour, Slayer. For some cosmically unknown reason, I actually feel pity for you. Maybe it's because I've been burned before--hurts like a bloody bitch, it does. But if you think you're too high and mighty to put aside differences and hold that tongue of yours in check, I can always go back to Dru and have myself a nice snog. It would probably increase my pleasure knowing you're out here in pain." He didn't know why her reply had stung him so. It wasn't as if they'd never verbally sparred before, but this time her barb had pierced his armor. He was of a mind to make good on his threat to go back to Dru and leave Buffy here, under the streetlight.

 
Which led him to think of what his offer entailed. Would Dru be able to sense what he had planned? Maybe Miss Edith or the stars would tell her... Bleedin' hell--I'm getting to be as barmy as Dru herself. I really do need to get out on my own more often.


Buffy watched Spike's face as he stood there, wheels turning around in his brain. She was in so much pain that she decided that things couldn't get much worse with his offer. Some small part of her actually believed his story. Being a vampire, he would probably know how to soothe burns--after all, he was of the easily crisped variety.

 


"Ok, say I accept your offer. What do you want in exchange? I don't have any money, and I don't actually own anything of value. So, what'll it be?"


Spike was stumped for all of twenty seconds before the answer came to him. His face grew serious. "I want you to promise not to stake Dru. She's not well--and I don't mean mentally, 'cause that's a given. Her body's weak and she couldn't defend herself if you or any of your superfriends come by her."

 


He was dead serious, and she knew it. She couldn't believe it. Letting out a sharp laugh, she asked: "You're kidding, right? You're asking me to ignore one of the most dangerous vampires in Sunnydale? Sorry, but the deal's off. I'll just go home and soak my aching skin in baking soda and cool water." She knew she was being irrational--Dru was far from being dangerous. Well, maybe to herself, but not to anyone else--not in her 'condition'. What irked Buffy most was that this non-souled evil undead loved someone so much that he'd do anything for her. And that left her to think of her own non-existent love life.

 


It was all so unfair...



He'd wished there was a slim chance that she'd take him on his offer. It wasn't much to ask, as Dru never really left their lair anyway... Taking on an air of indifference, he swept his hand in the air. "Fine with me, pet. I'll just go back to that dangerous, threatening girlfriend of mine. Have fun with your calamine." He turned around to leave, a bit upset that she hadn't taken up his offer. Somehow, he'd imagined that it would have been more than worthwhile...



Buffy bit her lip as potentially the only chance at easing her pain turned to leave. As she watched his silhouette disappear in the shadows, she called out. "How 'bout we meet in the middle, Spike?" When he paused mid-step, she knew he was listening. "As long as she's still sick--physically--I'll make sure Dru isn't unnecessarily... harassed. The truce, if you want to call it that, disappears the minute she either seriously threatens someone's well being, or she's cured from whatever's making her sick." She stood her ground, staring at his back.

 



It was the best offer he'd get, and he knew it. Actually, he was surprised she'd given in to his request--he knew she must've been in intense pain to go along with it. "Right, pet. It's a deal then." He turned to look at her and nodded ahead of him. "Follow me--we've got a bit of a walk ahead of us."

 



***

 

 

They walked, side by side, in comfortable silence for about half an hour before Buffy's Slayer sense kicked in. She had no idea where they were heading, but she was becoming gradually apprehensive. They were out of the city, past where the streetlights ended, nearing the woods. Maybe this really was some ploy to kill her after all. Wouldn't be too hard--all Spike had to do was give her a good solid pat on the back.

 


When the vampire turned off the road and walked towards the woods, she spoke up. "Ok, Spike. Where the hell are we going?" No longer able to cross her arms because of the burn, she put her hands on her hips. Yeah, that was her second best pissed off pose. It would do just fine.

 

 

 

 

The bleached blonde pointed out ahead of them. "Over that hill there's a cave. That's where we're headed." Just as the Slayer opened her mouth to voice an obviously negative comment, he cut her off. "And no, this isn't some trick or some such nonsense. You'll see when we get there. Now come on before I lose interest. At this rate, we'll be here all night. I don't fancy havin' to hightail it at sunrise." He walked off in the direction in which he had pointed, and disappeared in the brush.

 

 

 

 

Grumbling, Buffy jogged to catch up to him. When they reached the top of the small hill, she could see the cave. It was well hidden, covered in moss and vines, but was easy to find if you were looking for it.

 

 

 

 

He still couldn't believe that he was going to let the Slayer in on his and Dru's little secret. Here they were, at the entrance to the cave, facing each other--both nervous, but both trying to retain an air of nonchalance. Spike watched her as she reached out behind her and grabbed a stake that she'd hidden in the waistband of her shorts. He raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything. Turning to face the darkness of the cave, he lit his lighter and sighed. "I'd say 'after you', but I doubt you'd trust me enough to take me up on it. Just follow closely and try not to trip on any stray stones. I don't fancy getting hit by any flying stakes."

 

 

 

 

They were only about 10 feet inside the cave before Buffy felt a noticeable drop in temperature. It felt nice against the heat of her skin, and she felt herself relax a little. The arm that had held the stake upright fell down to her side, and she diverted part of her attention to peering at the cave walls. Not much to be seen--not like there would be Neanderthal paintings or anything. She stifled a giggle as the image of a vampire caveman came to mind.

 

 

 

 

Spike knew they were getting close to their destination. The temperature dropped even more, and the trickle of underground water could be heard. Just as he was about to break the silence, he heard an "oof!" followed by some colorful language. Leave it to the Slayer to trip when he'd told her to be careful. Pocketing his lighter, he turned to help her up. He hadn't really needed the extra light, as he knew the layout of the cavern and could still see well enough with his heightened sight, but he'd gathered that it might make Buffy feel more at ease to see where they were going.

 

 

 

 

That stupid rock had jumped out and tripped her--she was sure of it. Although her attention had been focussed on the walls--not on the vampire ahead of her, with his duster flowing behind him, and his hair all golden in the light of the small flame--Buffy could swear that the path was clear of rubble. She'd scraped her knees and the palms of her hands--she could feel them burning. What she hadn't expected, though, was for the source of light to go out. Stupid vampire--betcha he was just waiting for this to happen...

 

 

 

 

She let out a sharp breath when she felt cold hands on her tender skin. Buffy hadn't seen or heard the vampire approach, and because of this she didn't have time to temper her body's reaction to his proximity. She felt herself flush as he gingerly helped her to a standing position. Her heart was beating fast, and although the ambient air was cool she felt hot. She couldn't see a thing--still, she knew his body was mere inches from hers. The scent of tobacco, leather, and that scent that was Spike's own assaulted her senses. Both his hands were on her, holding her steady and, strangely enough, making her feel safe. When she felt his breath tickling her ear in short, shallow gasps, she knew she wasn't the only one who was affected by their contact.

 

 

 

 

Spike now realized that maybe this hadn't been the cleverest of ideas. Their bodies were almost touching now, and he was doused in her heat. Her pulse was racing, her blood calling out to him. It had been so long since he'd been with a human... Shocked at his reaction to the Slayer, he pulled his arms away and turned around. This was wrong--his intentions had been about as noble as they could (for Spike, anyhow), and he had Dru resting in their lair. He couldn't betray her by having a go at it with the Slayer. Although, with his dark princess' weakened condition there hadn't been much of that going on, and she certainly wouldn't fly off the handle if he found his release elsewhere...

 

 

 

 

Ah, bugger.

 

 

 

 

Buffy almost groaned out loud at the lost of cool contact. He must have felt her reaction to his touch, and was repulsed by it. Of course, that had to be it--why would a master vampire have any tender feelings for the Slayer? Upset with her body's betrayal, she broke their uncomfortable silence. "So..." she bit her lip, trying to think of something to say. Gee, that felt kinda nice wouldn't quite cut it. "...What's so special about this cave? It's cold, it's damp, and it's dark. Pretty much looks like a regular cave to me."

 

 

 

 

Flicking his lighter back on, the bleached vampire shed some light on a small pool just a few feet from where they were standing. He tried not to concentrate on the flush of the Slayer's cheeks, on the look she gave him when their eyes made contact, or on her petite frame that looked good no matter what she was wearing. Turning his attention back to the pool, he explained. "See that pool there? Can't explain it, but it's got some sort of healin' powers. Dru got wind of it from Miss Edith, or the stars, or some other barmy source, but she knew exactly where to find it." He turned back to Buffy, his face pained. "Dru has a bad habit of wanting to go see the stars. In mid daytime. Needless to say, we've had to tend to some pretty bad burns. Yours aren't too bad compared to some of the ones she's had. I figure you just need to soak for a hour or so and you'll be right as rain."

 

 

 

 

Curious, the young woman walked over to the pool, crouched at its side and dipped her hand in it. Almost immediately, she felt a cooling sensation run through her veins. No, she couldn't explain it either, but it sure felt wonderful. She sat on its edge and dangled her legs in its cool depths.

 

 

 

 

Spike watched her for a moment, before clearing his throat. "Uh, Slayer? It works much better if you actually get into the pool."

 

 

 

 

Buffy kicked at the water a few times. "Yeah, I know, but I don't have a change of clothing." Before she knew it, the light had gone out and the whole cave was once again immersed in darkness.

 

 

 

 

The catch in his voice belied the calmness he was aiming for. "You don't need a change of clothes, Slayer. Just take them off and hop in--it's almost pitch in here anyway. Your virtue is safe." He watched her pull herself to a standing position, and turn in his direction as if to call him on his bluff.

 

 

 

 

She knew he was lying. With her human vision, she could see shadows--the darkness of the pool, the larger boulders off to their right. With his vampiric vision, this must have been like daylight to him. The Slayer in her screamed to dust him, right there and then. How dare he lie to her, and try to make her his personal peep show? He was a monster, an evil aberration of nature.

 

 

 

 

However, a smaller voice--that of Buffy, the woman--told the Slayer to can it. Yes, he was a demon, but a really sexy, well-built demon. She decided to play along, pretending to be clueless. "Uh, ok. As long as you really can't see anything."

 

 

 

 

The vampire bit his lip, biting back a growl. He felt himself harden at the thought of her disrobing. "Don't worry, luv. Can't see a thing." Not yet, anyway.

 

 

 

 

Buffy began to tug at her top when an idea came to mind. Two could play at deception...

 

 

 

 

Whining, she made a dramatic show of twisting and turning. In the sweetest helpless maiden voice she could drum up, she asked: "Spike? Can you come give me a hand? My burn's too bad and I can't take this off by myself." There--take that!

 

 

 

 

Had he a heart, it would have skipped a beat. The sight alone of the Slayer taking her top off--without a bra on--was hard enough to take. Now she was actually asking him to help her, to be near her, to touch her... Calmly, Spike walked over to Buffy and lifted her arms straight up over her head. This was one of those moments in unlife when he honestly thanked the powers that be that he had been divested of his humanity. How could he have hidden from her the racing of his heart, the shaking of his hands, the slick sheen of his sweat? He was already having a hard enough time controlling his unnecessary breathing without having to worry about any additional giveaways.

 

 

 

 

When she felt his hands on her waist, bunching up the soft cotton of her T-shirt, Buffy realized that the rules of her little game had shot right out of the window. Her breathing was shallow and labored as the fabric slowly slid up her torso. She looked up and noticed that his eyes were focussed not on the expanse of skin, which was now visible, but on her own hazel eyes.

 

 

 

 

This whole situation would have been so much easier to handle if he'd been leering at her stomach.

 

 

 

 

He knew, when they locked gazes, that his ruse was up. He could see her, and she knew that. Of course, now he realized that she could see him as well. Oh well, always been a pisser of a liar. As he moved the cotton higher and higher, he was surprised to find that he wasn't tempted to sneak a peek. Not with her looking at him like that, so open and... lustful? Spike pushed the thought aside as a figment of his overactive libido. So she was breathing hard; so she was staring him in the eye as he undressed her; so she was clearly aroused, from what he could smell. It didn't necessarily mean that she wanted him...

 

 

 

 

Ok, maybe it wasn't his imagination after all.

 

 

 

 

She'd been divested of her shirt and stood in front of her mortal enemy without shame. His eyes, which she'd noticed more than once as being a beautiful shade of sky blue, were now black with desire. Cool fingers traced the curves of her breasts, circling the hard nipples and sliding in the sweat underneath them. Sure, it was cold, but she was hotter than hell at that moment. A rough voice, which sounded as desirous as she felt, snapped her back to attention.

 

 

 

 

"Do you need help with anything else?" God, could he sound any more pathetic? That line must have come from a dozen of the worst porn flicks he'd ever seen. If she didn't laugh out loud, he was sure she was going to end it all right there. His body hummed with the need to touch her, the need to feel her heat. He needed to be surrounded by her, writhing in delirious abandon. Shifting to ease the pressure on his erection, he watched her eyes flick to just below his waist. Surely she couldn't tell, not in the dark...

 

 

 

 

Buffy was ready to give up on the teasing. Just pull Spike to her, rip his clothes off and have him take her. Yup--right there on the dirt, rocks poking in her back, bugs crawling all around them. She didn't really care anymore. She'd always wondered what he looked like without any clothes on. Although said clothing left little to the imagination--she'd caught herself watching the play of his back muscles more than once--she still needed to see his milky skin, kiss those rock-hard abs she'd kicked many a time, run her tongue up his...

 

 

 

 

Was he a natural blonde? Nah, she told herself, his eyebrows are brown. But she didn't want to assume anything. That little Willow-esque part of her, the little inquisitorial part, needed to see for herself. Kind of like scientific research.

 

 

 

 

She hadn't answered his question yet, and Spike was getting nervous. Surely she wouldn't be cruel enough to tease him and then let him down, would she? He remained motionless, waiting for her reply. Her gaze raked up and down his body, and he felt proud of his physique. Not an ounce of fat on this vampire--he was a sleek predator, through and through.

 

 

 

 

"My pants."

 

 

 

 

Huh? "Pardon me, ducks?" She didn't really mean what he thought she meant, did she?

 

 

 

 

Let's try again, shall we, 'cause someone's a bit distracted. "My pants. I need help removing them." Gathering the courage from God-knows-where (maybe her inner slut, who knew?), she dragged her finger down the valley between her breasts, over the expanse of her flat tummy, and down to the shorts' waistband. "Do you think you're up to the task?"

 

 

 

 

The sight of her teasing him like that was more than a vampire could take. Especially one who hadn't had a good shag in what seemed like ages. What he wanted to do was say "Fuck it", rush over to her and pound her until they were both black and blue. His mind's image of a writhing, sweaty Slayer being slammed into the ground made him harder than marble. He fought the urge, however, and decided to take an altogether different approach. One that could be followed by the pounding, if things went well.

 

 

 

 

For a moment, it looked like he was going to rush her. His eyes had gleamed yellow, and his body had tensed. A small part of her--a very small part of her--had been excited by the idea of being ravaged by a very horny vampire in game face. But he seemed to collect himself, and this relieved the main part of Buffy. She watched him remove his duster and drape it over a large boulder. He pinned her with a steady gaze and walked over to where she was standing.

 

 

 

 

She expected him to say something rude, or to pull her pants down and try to have sex with her on the spot. After all, she didn't exactly have that much experience in this kind of thing. One night with Angel--straight mission position, lots of grunting, over rather quickly. That was it.

 

 

 

 

What she didn't expect was for Spike to lean down and place a chaste kiss on her lips. So soft, so light, she could have thought it was her imagination. He pulled away, smiled shyly, and bent down a little further, placing kisses at the tops of her breasts, cool mouth against hot skin. She didn't have a sunburn on her chest, but she was feeling like it was on fire. The kind of burning only brought upon by ice. He continued his ministrations on her breasts, slowly licking one while gently teasing the other with his fingers. His tongue slid down between her breasts and down her stomach to her belly button. Her breath caught in disappointment as she felt the absence of his touch.

 

 

 

 

Spike concentrated on kneeling, all the while trying to reign in his demon. It wanted, no needed, instant gratification, but he was going to deny it that pleasure. Anyway, sex was always so much better with hours of foreplay. Ok, maybe he couldn't last hours, but he certainly didn't want to make her believe otherwise.

 

 

 

 

When he knelt in front of her, her tummy at his eye level, the strong scent of her arousal hit him. Unable to stop himself, he inhaled deeply before bringing his gaze up to hers. Her own hazel orbs were now almost completely black. He fought the urge to rip her shorts off and brought his mouth back up to her bellybutton. Her fingers played in his bleached locks as his tongue probed her navel, picking up the salty tang of her sweat. He reached up and slid two fingers in the waistband of her pants, slowly pulling them and her underwear down.

 

 

 

 

Buffy was having a very hard time standing up. The effect of his touch on her skin was electrifying, and her arousal was making her dizzy. When he knelt in front of her and began to pull her shorts down, following its path with a trail of kisses, she seriously thought she was going to faint. Why hadn't Angel ever done anything like this?

 

 

 

 

Her knees finally gave out when she felt a cold flick against her clit. "Oh God, Spike" was about all she could mutter before she felt herself nearly topple over. She pulled his head away from her curls and, lifting him to a stand, began to pull his clothes off. The signature black T-shirt nearly ripped as it was yanked over the vampire's head, and his jeans, as tight as they were, almost flew off of their own volition.

 

 

 

 

She was pawing at him like a wild animal, passion having gotten the best of her. Although it chuffed him to see that he had such an effect on her, he wasn't about to cut their little foreplay session short. "Wait, luv. Best not to rush these things." He placed a digit over her lips, to keep her from saying anything. "Now let's get you into that water--might as well heal your burn while we scratch your itch."

 

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

 

He backed up into the pool first, mainly to show her that there was no danger, but also to watch her as she gingerly glided into the healing waters. He sat her on a stone at one end of the pool and watched her close her eyes and sigh as the pool began to cool her skin down. "Now," he announced to no one in particular, "back to business."

 

 

 

 

When her skin made contact with the pool's cool water, Buffy immediately felt a change in her burn. It was almost as if it had mysteriously vanished. She knew it was still there--the rock she was leaning against seemed a little rough at first--but the pain was all but gone. Add her slayer healing powers to that of the water, and Presto!--instant comfort. She opened her eyes when she heard a faint 'sploosh'. Panic hit her as she saw that Spike was no longer in the pool with her. Maybe he'd gone back to his jacket to get his smokes or something. She called his name out and nearly jumped out of her skin when his head and shoulders popped out of the water just in front of her.

 

 

 

 

"Don't worry, pet. I'm just finishing what I started. Don't like to leave this sort of... project... incomplete." He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. Although this kiss wasn't as chaste as their first had been, it was nowhere near as passionate as he wanted it to be. He wanted to devour her, pour all of his emotions into it, make her come with just the one kiss.

 

 

 

 

Lips tangled, tongues dueled and teeth nipped as the two blondes became more aggressive with their embrace. Spike pulled back and stared at Buffy, who lay back, eyes glazed and lips slightly parted, her heaving chest creating little ripples on the pool's surface. He gave her a quick wink before disappearing under the water.

 

 

 

 

As she felt his hands spread her thighs, all Buffy could think of was how nice it was to have a lover who didn't need to breathe. As far as she was concerned right now, breathing was way overrated.

 

 

 

 

Even in the water, the scent and taste of her arousal overpowered him. Sliding his tongue along her folds, he marveled at how wet she was--and not because she was immersed in water. He imagined himself sliding into her tight channel, the heat engulfing him, and he wondered just how experienced she was. He knew there was the poof--he'd bragged enough about popping her cherry that half the town's vamp population could tell the story by rote. But had there been anyone since? Curious, he slid one finger, and then another one, inside of her and began to pump slowly, just as he bit down lightly onto her clit.

 

 

 

 

Oh, fuck, he thought, as his fingers were gripped by her internal muscles. She couldn't possibly be that tight. He wouldn't last five minutes inside of her, unless he brought himself off before hand. Slipping one hand down to his erection, he began to pump it at the same rhythm as he was finger-fucking the Slayer.

 

 

 

 

Buffy could feel the pressure in her center building rapidly. The sensation of being licked and penetrated at the same time drove her to distraction. 120 years, was all that she kept repeating in her head. 120 years of practice... Her body tensed as her climax hit, every nerve on end, every muscle flexed. She laid both hands on Spike's head as she ground out the last of the orgasm, pressing herself as far as she could into his face. As she calmed down, she felt him tense up as well, gripping her thigh in a bruising grasp and piercing her other thigh with his fangs. The sensation of the other penetration, riding on the ebb of her initial climax, caused her to have a second, mini-orgasm.

 

 

 

 

He hadn't meant it to happen that way, but when she began to rub her pussy on his face, writhing in the throes of passion, Spike lost all control. He'd felt his face shift to its demon visage and he began to pump himself even more vigorously, coming so hard he'd seen colors. He hadn't even noticed that he'd bit her until he felt the Slayer come again.

 

 

 

 

She lay back, panting and trying to catch her breath. It was funny, if she thought about it--all she'd done was lay back, but she was as winded as if she'd taken on a nest of vampires on her own. Spike resurfaced and took her in his arms. They fit so well, she thought, it was as if their bodies were made to be together. She felt him pull back a little, so she looked up. He tilted her chin so they were looking eye to eye. His gaze was so intense, but so naked at the same time. It was as if she could read his every emotion: lust, confusion, elation, worry...

 

 

 

 

He took her in his arms once again, sure that she wasn't going to stake him. "I'm sorry, luv. I really didn't mean to bite, but when you started bucking, well..." He smiled and turned to look at her. "You're an amazing woman, Buffy, and you make me absolutely crazy. I just couldn't stop the demon from coming out."

 

 

 

 

He'd called her by her name. Not Slayer, not bint or any of the other stupid British swear words. It felt so right, hearing it roll off his tongue. She took his head in her hands and stroked her thumbs along his sharp cheekbones. "It's ok, Spike. I understand. And, well, it wasn't all that bad, judging by my body's reaction..." She shimmied closer to him, drew her tongue along one of those cheekbones and whispered in his ear. "...and my body seems to be saying 'More Spike goodness, now!' so maybe we can keep it happy, hmm?"

 

 

 

 

Buffy watched as the vampire leaned in, kissed her cheek, and walked out of the water. Good going, Buffy. Your sex drive has even driven a vampire away. Can you say 'ho' much? She was surprised, though, when she saw the flame from his lighter illuminate and transfer to a row of candles. Spike brought the half-dozen candles closer to the pool, setting them on flat rocks here and there. The young woman couldn't help but appreciate the sight of the naked vampire--he was even more beautiful than she'd let herself imagine (now that she could admit to herself that she had imagined him naked). He had the body of a swimmer: broad shoulders, muscled back and a well-developed chest. She almost had to keep from drooling as he slowly let himself back into the water.

 

 

 

 

Spike decided not to call her on her little ogling session--best to let her believe that he hadn't noticed. "I brought the candles last time Dru and I were here. Vamp sight is well and all, but there's nothing like a bit of candlelight to be able to see one another even better." He leaned back across from Buffy, and held his hand out for her to join him.

 

 

 

 

He looked so beautiful--she couldn't help but use that word when it came to Spike, there was no other word that described her vision of him so accurately--in the dancing light of the candles. They lent his pale skin a golden hue, and accentuated the sharp angles of his face. When he held his hand out to her, she didn't hesitate. She knew she wanted this, this something that even that same morning would have seemed deranged and vile, as much as he did.



Buffy sat herself on his lap, feeling his arousal press into her belly. She giggled lightly. "Guess little Spikey is ready to play again."

 

 

 

 

Spike smirked and raised his scarred brow. "Naming him already, are we? And luv, he was ready to play right after the last game ended." He growled playfully, pulling her close to him, their bodies slick with the pool's water and the Slayer's sweat. "Vampires, pet, have a refractory time of oh, zero. Get us eager enough and we don't even soften up." He felt the young women in his arms stiffen at something he'd said. Leaning back so he could look her in the face, he quietly asked her what was wrong.

 

 

 

 

Usually, Buffy would have said 'nothing' and pretended that she'd had a cramp or a hiccup or something. But something about this bleached vampire, who was so open with her, made her feel like she should share. Sighing, she leaned in and put her head on his shoulder. "If vamps are so virile (yeah, surprise him with big words), then why did... why did Angel only want to do it once?" Her voice had lowered to almost a whisper, and her shame could be clearly heard.

 

 

 

 

The vampire's blood boiled at the mention of his grandsire, doubly so in the context in which they were discussing him. "'S 'cause Angel's also Angelus, Buffy. As Angelus, there was no foreplay--unless whips and sharp instruments are your idea of nice pre-shag fun. So the demon part of Angel doesn't have compassion, doesn't feel like the other party should enjoy it--it's just out to relieve some pent-up sexual tension. And the souled part of him? Betcha you were its first time, too. He spent over a hundred years livin' in alleys, feeding off rats. Doubt he even thought about sex before meeting you." He pushed a strand of golden hair behind her ear, letting his finger slide down the side of her neck, before continuing. "Then, he's got you... wherever..."

 

 

 

 

"His apartment."

 

 

 

 

"Ok, so he's got you at his apartment, and he doesn't know what to do with you. Somewhere inside of him, Angelus is screamin' at him to tie you to the bed and bleed you to death--get off on your fright and your pain like he's so good at. Then he's got Angel, virgin extraordinaire, who probably wouldn't know that tab A fits into slot B without a bleedin' correspondence course. So he probably did what he thought was best. Gave you a nice plain human first time, was probably very gentle, in the missionary position at that."

 

 

 

 

Incredible. Spike had just made sense out of all the jumbled pieces that had been floating in her mind since that fateful night. She wanted to thank him--an equal gift to the one he'd just given her. She slid off his lap, and pat the stone behind him with her hand. "C'mon, Spike. Sit up here for a sec." She saw his confusion, but he acquiesced nonetheless. When he was sitting up out of the water, with only his legs dangling in the pool, she asked him to close his eyes.

 

 

 

 

Wonder what she's up to... "Oh! Bloody fuckin'..." The words caught in his throat at the shock of the Slayer's hot mouth around his cock. He worked hard at controlling his demon--she didn't know what she'd let loose when she wrapped those luscious lips around him. Instead of bucking up, he concentrated on spewing a constant stream of praise. She couldn't have too much experience, based on what he'd sussed out. "God, Buffy yeah, like that, just a little lower, oh..."

 

 

 

 

Up until this night, the idea of fellatio disgusted Buffy. Who in their right mind would want to put their mouth on some guy's you-know-what? Ugh, with a capital ugh. But... after how much pleasure she'd derived from Spike's ministration, and after seeing the bleached vampire in all his natural glory, the idea was no longer repulsive. More like 'bring it on'. Which led to what she was doing at that moment, that little tongue thing that he seemed to like so much. A little flicker, followed by a hard flat-tongue lick--she could swear he was actually purring, if it wasn't for the continual chattering. Not that she minded, not at all. It just bolstered her self-esteem to find out just how she was affecting the vampire--she'd reduced him to a babbling mound of Jell-O.

 

 

 

 

She took him as deep as she could, pressing the base of her tongue against the sensitive spot on the underside of his cock, all the while massaging his balls. Feeling him tense up, she heard him warn her.

 

 

 

 

"Oh, Buffy, I'm gonna... it's..."

 

 

 

 

With a split-second decision that she wasn't quite ready for swallowing yet, she replaced her mouth with her hand and pumped furiously, watching with interest as strings of milky white fluid squirted out from him. He leaned back as far as he could, trying to catch his breath. Buffy wondered why he breathed at all. Have to remember to ask him, sometime... When he looked like he was back under control, she spoke up. "Spike?"

 

 

 

 

"Yes, luv?"

 

 

 

 

"I'm sorry about, you know, not... not finishing the job."

 

 

 

 

Spike sat back up, and looked at her strangely. "What do you mean 'not finishing the job'?" Pointing to the mess on his lap, he chuckled. "I'd call that finished."

 

 

 

 

He was going to make her spell it out. Stupid male vampire. "You know, I didn't... swallow."

 

 

 

 

The bleached blonde slid back into the water, washing himself off. "Buffy, you did great. That was absolutely the best blow job I've ever got in my unlife. So you didn't swallow--so what? I'd give almost as much for a nice sloppy hand job, so color me happy. Now c'mere."

 

 

 

 

Satisfied with his answer--he hadn't lied to her yet, why start now?--she slid back onto the comfort of his lap, feeling, once again, the hardness of his shaft. "Gee, you really weren't joking about that refractory time, were you?"

 

 

 

 

"Would never lie about that, pet. Look, Buffy, how're you feeling, with the sunburn and all?" He lightly traced a finger down her shoulder, along the length of her arm, trying to gauge her reaction.

 

 

 

 

Buffy had been so immersed in the make-out session with the undead that she'd forgotten why they were there in the first place. She rolled her neck and her shoulders, testing her skin's sensitivity. With a great big smile, she happily announced that she was no longer in any pain.

 

 

 

 

Spike's eyes darkened until they were almost black. "Good, 'cause I've been wantin' to do this all night." He grabbed her roughly, and pulled her in for a passionate kiss. There was no more holding back, no more being careful--the Slayer was back to full strength and he could finally take her with unrestrained passion. Well, with as much as she'd let him...

 

 

 

 

Almost as soon as their lips crushed together, Spike's tongue sought entrance into Buffy's mouth. Her hot mouth took him in, her own tongue dueling with his. She moaned into him, taking nips at his lower lip, biting almost hard enough to draw blood. Pulling back so the Slayer could catch her breath, Spike's mouth latched on to her neck, sucking, kissing, biting. He gauged her reaction to each of his ministrations, and found out--surprise, surprise--that she groaned loudest when bitten. Well, more like nibbled. He wasn't too sure if she was ready for the biting yet, although she hadn't minded the bite on the thigh...

 

 

 

 


Buffy pulled away from the vampire's caresses and began to place hot, open-mouthed kisses on his face. The scar in his left eyebrow, his beautiful blue eyes, his sharp cheekbones... when she got down to his neck she decided to try one of his own techniques on him. She inched her way on his lap, trapping his swollen cock tightly between their bodies. Licking long strokes down the pale column of his neck, she bit down hard enough to leave a mark, but not enough to draw blood.

 

 

 

 

Almost immediately, she found herself hoisted out of the water, her back on the dirt ground of the cave. Eyes gleaming yellow, Spike hovered over her, obviously trying to reign in his demon. He closed his eyes and when he opened them again they were blue.

 

 

 

 

"You don't know how close you were to being dinner, Slayer. Never, ever, bite a vampire during sex unless you mean it to be reciprocated."

 

 

 

 

Dead serious, she held her gaze steady with his. "Maybe that's what I wanted."

 

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

 

Depending on how one viewed the outcome, that was either the right thing to say, or the wrong thing to say. Spike took it at face value and pulled her body closer to the pool, until her legs dangled in the water and her rear balanced on the edge. He gave her one last out. "Slayer, you know what you're saying, right? 'Cause you can't really chicken out half way..."

 

 

 

 

She knew this was wrong. So wrong, in fact that she almost listened to her inner Slayer as it shook her, screaming at her to smarten up. But it was so hard to ignore her gut feeling, the one where her entire being hummed with anticipation of what was to happen. She knew it would be a claim. Maybe she didn't really understand the repercussions, but she believed she did. With a calm belying her inner turmoil, she nodded. "I know about the claim, Spike. And, as strange as it sounds, everything inside of me is giving me the green light." So she lied to him--wasn't the first time, wouldn't be the last.

 

 

 

 

Spike watched her eyes grow round as he let his demon slip to the forefront. So she believed that he was going to claim her, did she? He might as well go along with it.

 

 

 

 

When he'd asked her if she knew what she was getting into, he'd simply meant the biting, the feeding. He certainly hadn't meant a claim. To lay a claim on the Slayer would be to sign your own death warrant, especially when her ex was Angelus.

 

 

 

 

He stepped up onto a flat rock in the pool--the whole waterhole seemed chiseled into the rock, with all its ledges, all just at the right height. Watching her face, he slipped a finger in her quim and found it dripping. Imagine that, he thought, a Slayer getting off on the thought of a claim. He slid his digit back and forth a few times, pressing his thumb over her clit. He pulled his finger out, and pressed it to her other opening, just below her thatch of curls.

 

 

 

 

Buffy's eyes popped wide open as she felt him probing there. No, he couldn't mean... She gasped out loud as his finger, saturated with her own juices, slowly began to slide inside of her tight opening. She tried to sit up, to push his hand away, but he put his other hand over her chest and pushed her back down. "Spike, please... don't... not there."

 

 

 

 

"Don't worry, pet. Nothing bigger than my finger is going in there. Yet. Trust me on this, you'll come like you've never, ever, come before." He felt her relax a little as she stopped fighting. She still kept a wary eye on him, though, as he continued to slowly pump his finger in and out of her ass. It would be a slightly awkward angle for him, but it would bring her so much pleasure.

 

 

 

 

The Slayer closed her eyes, concentrating on the feeling of his finger. It wasn't as bad as she would have expected--a bit of a surprise, but it actually felt kind of... good. She felt him move, but didn't look down until she felt the head of his cock slide against her pussy. He wasn't planning on... Oh! Yes he was!

 

 

 

 

Her eyes shot open, and she found herself staring into the blue depths of her vampire lover's eyes. He had changed back to his human features while she'd had her eyes closed.

 

Amber mixed with blue as his cock pushed all the way in. Buffy heard him groan, and he held still for a moment, leaning his head against her shoulder.

 

 

 

 

"Cor..." He knew she was going to be tight, and he knew she was going to be hot, but knowing it and actually feeling it were two different stories. Her muscles gripped him like a glove, squeezing his cock almost painfully as he began to slowly piston in and out of her, remembering to do the same with his other finger. "Oh, Buffy, you're so bloody hot and tight. Can hardly hold the demon back..."

 

 

 

 

For the first time in a long, long, time, Spike found that he was losing control. As a master vampire, he had a good grip on his demon and was able to restrain it at will. But not tonight. The double penetration, which was affecting him as much as the Slayer herself, the blood pumping through her veins, her hot, wet channel gripping him like a vise--it would all be the undoing of his self-control. What didn't help things at all was that she'd agreed to a claim, which his demon would more than likely try to give in to.

 

 

 

 

"Then don't. Don't hold it back, Spike. It's part of what... of who you are, and I want all of you. The gentle, giving Spike. And the not so gentle, take-what-he-wants Spike. I trust you not to hurt me" she smiled, dragged a finger down his chest to his navel, playing in the dark curls that grew just below "too much."

 

 

 

 

In a flash, his demon was out. "All right, luv. We'll play it my way, then." He pulled loose from her body, dragged her even closer to the edge, and hiked her ankles over his shoulders. Cold, yellow eyes stared down at her as the demon harshly drove three fingers in and out of her sopping pussy. No gentleness, no soft words. He pulled the fingers out, forcing them into her other hole at the same time as he drove him cock back into her quim.

 

 

 

 

Buffy screamed at the sensation of being filled in both holes at once--it felt as if she was being ripped apart. One finger had been ok, but three was a big ouch. As Spike began to piston rapidly in and out of both holes, she realized that this was what she'd asked for. She wanted it rough, she wanted the demon, well, she was getting it. And then some. He leaned over her, groping at her breasts, licking them roughly and placing shallow bites here and there on the two mounds.

 

 

 

 

She felt herself being pulled closer to him, if it was possible. The fingers on his free hand went to her clit and began to stroke her closer and closer to climax. When her breathing became shallow and quick, he freed his fingers from her rear and used them to pull her up flush against him. Her legs fell from his shoulders, hitting the edge of the rock. Holding her by the neck, he twisted the bundle of nerves he'd been coaxing, causing the Slayer to scream in release. The demon let her ride the crest of her climax, and sank his teeth into her soft neck.

 

 

 

 

The sensations were almost too much for her to handle. The throbbing at the apex of her thighs, the pinprick bite marks on her breasts, and now the demon latched at her neck. Another climax hit her, harder than the previous one.

 

 

 

 

The more she came, the more excited she got, the more the demon got to drink. Had Spike not been a master vampire, there might not have been a chance to save Buffy. Pulling his teeth from her neck, the vampire felt a jolt of energy cruise through his veins. He'd forgotten the high that came after drinking Slayer blood. And this one was still alive, pulsating all around him, looking at him through hooded eyes that spoke of sexual contentment.

 

 

 

 

There was so much they both wanted to say, but all either of them could come up with were grunts. Spike pulled Buffy back into the water--maybe it would help heal her bruises and those bite marks on her breasts. As rough as the demon had been, it had been restrained. If not, the Slayer would be dead. Drained, fucked to death, one way or another she wouldn't have gotten out of this one alive.

 

 

 

 

Surrounded by the soothing cold water, Buffy felt her pulse slow back down to normal. She lay back, reclining in Spike's arms, as happy as a cat who'd been fed cream. The healing properties of the water calmed her down, and in the quiet of the cave--save for the hissing of the flames on the candles--she gave herself time to think of what had happened. "Spike?"

 

 

 

 

"Hmm?"

 

 

 

 

"That wasn't a claim, was it?" She didn't feel any more attached to him than before the bite, so she figured she'd ask him outright.

 

 

 

 

Spike sat up a little, pulling the Slayer closer to him. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he kissed the tip of her nose. "No, it wasn't. Pet, claims are lifelong attachments. They aren't something to be taken lightly. There's a lot of thought that goes in to making a decision like that. It shouldn't be a heat-of-the-moment kind of thing. I know we're getting along right now" he chuckled "well, more than getting along, but when we're back out there, away from this cave, I don't think we'll be takin' pottery classes together, if you get what I mean."

 

 

 

 

Buffy sighed. "Yeah, I know what you mean, and you're right. I think what we've got right now is kind of nice, though." She wiggled on his lap, looking for a sign of... yup--he was hard again. Turning around to face him, she eased herself on his erection. Both vampire and Slayer groaned at the intimate contact. They rested their foreheads together, and the Slayer's breath tickled Spike's lips. "Nice is just what I'm looking for at the moment. Nice, and slow, and gentle..." She leaned in and kissed him deeply and languorously.

 

 

 

 

As the Slayer began to move up and down his shaft, Spike returned her kiss. It was a lazy kiss, the kind that you could spend an entire day on, in the arms of your lover, not caring for anything else in the world but you, her, and your mouths. He dragged his hands up and down her figure, tracing curves, kneading muscles, finding her ticklish spots. It was a tactile mapping of Buffy's body, and he was willing to commit it to memory. After only one evening their coupling was as comfortable as that of old lovers.

 

 

 

 

When they both finally came, they couldn't tell if they'd been at it for ten minutes or 2 hours. Lost in each other's arms, time had lost its meaning.

 

 

 

 

Buffy sat on the ledge beside Spike. "Spike? How long have we been here?"

 

 

 

 

The vampire paused to think. "I'd say about two hours, why?"

 

 

 

 

The young woman worried her lower lip. "Mom's going to freak, if she already hasn't filed a missing persons report. I was already out later than usual when we met up." She gave him another kiss, and pulled back. "I've really got to get home, I'm in enough trouble as it is. That and I'm beginning to prune from being in the water for so long." She pulled his hand and looked at it. "Why don't you get all pruny? How does that work?"

 

 

 

 

Spike shrugged, looking at his hand as if seeing it for the first time. "Dunno, luv. Maybe it's the strict diet of blood." He hopped out of the pool, helped the Slayer out, and began to look for his clothing. He made a mental note to bring towels the next time he came by--he could think of nothing worse than trying to shimmy in tight denim when wet.

 

 

 

 

The young woman made a face. "Eww... gross much? I doubt it's the blood. Must just be another of those weird vampire traits." She looked down at what she was wearing and frowned. "Thank God this sunburn is over and done with. I'm sick of looking like a Flashdance reject."

 

 

 

 

Spike handed Buffy a candle, and extinguished the others. "Well, pet, shall we be on our way, then? Before your mother thinks you've turned into a pumpkin?"

 

 

 

 

The young woman giggled and shook her head. "Don't be silly, the coach turned into the pumpkin--not Cinderella..."

 

 

 

 

The vampire smiled and took her hand in his. "I know that, pet. 'S just funnier that way."

 

 

 

 

As they made their way back out to the forest, a shroud of darkness followed their retreating forms, enveloping the cave in a quiet stillness.

 

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

 

Their walk back to town was uncharacteristically quiet. No banter, no insults, just deep introspection. They both knew that what happened tonight was a secret of gargantuan proportions. Although Dru might notice those hickeys on Spike's chest, and Angel might want to question the source of Buffy's new bite...

 

 

 

 

Spike accompanied Buffy back home, like a true gentleman. They both stood on the sidewalk, where the pathway led to her front steps.

 

 

 

 

They both spoke at once. "So..."

 

 

 

 

Chuckling, Spike signaled for Buffy to have the first word.

 

 

 

 

"So, um, do you want to do this again?" She looked up at him, and bit her lip.

 

 

 

 

That was not what he was expecting. To say that the vampire was taken aback would be an understatement. He squinted, looked her straight in the eye, trying to see if she was joking. When nothing short of brutal honesty stared back at him, he smiled. "Wouldn't miss it for the world, Slayer." Great, now he felt like he was in school again. Kicking the toe of his boot against the concrete, he asked her: "When would you like? I'll leave that up to you."

 

 

 

 

"How about next Wednesday? Or... we could make it every Wednesday... Wouldn't have to always be at the cave, though. Maybe we can find different places."

 

 

 

 

Not caring that they were in front of her house, fully illuminated by one of those ugly streetlights, or that they were supposed to be bitter enemies, Spike took Buffy in his arms and kissed her until she was breathless. He pulled back a little, until they were nose to nose. "Wednesday works for me. See you then." He took a step away, before turning back to her. With an evil glint in his eye, he teased her. "Maybe I'll bring a few toys along..." With that, he turned, duster billowing after him.

 

 

 

 

He'd disappeared around a corner when Buffy heard someone behind her. She turned, and gasped.

 

 

 

 

Angel stood behind her, staring at Buffy and the path that Spike had taken.

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"Buffy, was that Spike?"