Cupid is stupid...and a little drunk by behind blue eyes
 
 
Chapter #1 - Chapter One
 
This little tale is set between “Crush” and “I was made to love you”. For this story, I’ll be referring to the God of Love as Cupid. Normally, I follow very closely to canon, but I decided to color outside the lines on this one for all you romantics at heart.

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“Hit me again.” With a nod, Cupid slid his empty shot glass towards Willy.

“Not trying to get in your business, friend, but don’t ya think you should slow it down? Ya know, with the flying and all?” Willy stopped wiping down the bar, eyeing the portly god teetering on the edge of his stool.

“Not really your concern, is it, friend. Don’t need another wife, just someone to pour the booze. So pour.” Cupid tapped the bar, the ashes from his cigar littering the newly cleaned top.

“Sure, sure. Just, you know, looking out for the paying customers.” Willy pulled out a once full, now steadily emptying bottle of Jameson and poured a four-finger count.

“Yeah, yeah, save it. Don’t need your crap, got plenty from my old lady. Every year it’s”—in a falsetto voice, he continued— “Really? How soon we forget the quests, the torturing, the whole going to hell and back for your ass, and what? You can’t even bother to stay home. Tonight of all nights?”—Cupid cleared his throat, voice returning to its usual gruffness— “Blah…blah…blah. Same shit different century. Doesn’t even appreciate what I gotta do. I’m flyin’ around in a diaper for cripes sake! Not to mention, it ain’t gettin’ any easier with those bastards at Hallmark ™ making it nearly impossible for a hard workin’ guy like myself to get his due. A friggin’ shame is what it is. Anyway, here’s to love.”

Cupid toasted and in one go, emptied his glass. Willy tried to shelf the bottle, but was stayed by Cupid’s hand.

“Ya know what? Leave it.” Cupid threw a handful of wadded up bills on the bar.

“No worries, on the house.” Willy waved off payment, trying not to think where said dollars were only moments ago.

“Thanks, buddy.” Cupid grabbed the bottle and downed half.

Shaking his head and taking a deep breath, Willy made his way to the other side of the bar to wait on a Boretz demon sitting all by itself.




♪ “ And there's a story in my eyes
Turn the pages of desire
Now it's time to trade those dreams
For the rush of passion's fire…”

Flying low, Cupid weaved in and out of Restfield’s headstones, singing loudly and off key. The inch-worth of Jameson left, sloshed around the sides.

♪ “I can feel you tremble when we touch
And I feel the hand of fate
Reaching out to both of us…”

Cupid tottered and with all the grace of a gooney bird, landed on the top of a tall headstone. Gaining his footing, he revved-up for the chorus using the bottle as a mic.

♪ “I can't hold back, I'm on the edge
I can't hold back
Your voice explodes inside my head…”

“Get the hell away from me, Spike!”

Singing louder, Cupid tried ignoring the yelling off to his far left.

♪ “I can't hold back, I won't back down
Girl, it's too late to turn back now…”

“Slayer, just listen to me, yeah? If you think a little disinvite spell is going to make me go away, you really don’t know me at all!”

Pissed that someone interrupted his one-man jam, Cupid cursed, tossed the bottle aside and cast a bleary eye at the gatecrashers coming towards him fast and furious.

Fists and teeth clenched, Buffy spun and held her ground, stopping Spike dead in his tracks.

“That’s the point, Spike! I don’t want to know you! Let me clarify one last time, so even a brain trust like you will understand, Get. Out. Of. My. Life!”

“You keep saying that but every time I try, you come right back to me. Like some soddin’ blonde boomerang. Make up your bleedin’ mind!” Spike stepped into her personal space, mirroring her posture.

“Hey! Knock it off you two, its St. Vally’s day for cripes sake!”

Being completely ignored by the fighting duo, Cupid fumbled with his quiver and bow. Closing one eye, he took aim. When the four moving targets became two and steadied, he launched two heart-shaped tipped arrows.

♪ “I can feel you tremble when we touch
And I feel the hand of fate
Reaching out to both of us This love affair can't wait…”

“Ouch!” “What the bloody hell!” Buffy and Spike shouted, and stepped back from one another. They looked down at their butts then around for the cause.

“Bull’s-eye!” Raising his arms in victory, Cupid teetered and fell from his perch, landing hard on the ground below.

“What the?” Buffy swayed, steadying herself using a headstone. Everything around her swirled and intensified. She tried finding a focal point, finally settling on Spike’s radioactive coif.

“Yeah, second that.” Spike widened his stance, trying to balance. His vision shifting and distorting reminded him of the time he ate that Flower Child. Yet this time, with bonus randy-ness. He noticed Buffy staring at him. Her chest was heaving and pupils blown.

“Slayer, you okay?”

Seeming to find her footing, Buffy closed the distance between them. By the tantalizing sway of her hips and a minxy-knowing smile, he could’ve sworn she was coming on to him. Then he reminded himself who she was, and looked for a stake aimed at his heart.

I can't hold back

“Mmm…Spike.” Buffy placed both palms on his chest. Her heat and scent was driving him mad but the small fraction of his mind not lust-muddled forced him to keep his hands to himself.

I can't hold back

That was until she ran the tip of her tongue across the seam of his lips. Then all bets were off.

I can't hold back

“Slayer.” Pulling her into his arms, their mouths collided and the world as they knew it stopped.

I can't hold back

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End Notes:

Cupid’s wife is Pysche. If you are not familiar with their story, read here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cupid_and_Psyche

Totally aging myself, but the song is an oldie but goodie called, “I Can’t Hold Back” by Survivor 1984. If you want to watch the video go here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GaMcsKtBDwE Pay no mind to the bad clothes and even worse hair.

The 80’s were a time when the mullets were long and the clothes were tight, and that was just the guys! This was the video on MTV, at a time when they only did videos. Yeah, totally aging myself.

Boretz demon: “were a demon species known for their bad odor and their poisonous bite. These demons had the habit of dressing up like transients to prey on homeless people.” http://buffy.wikia.com/wiki/Boretz_Demon

A gooney bird is another name for an albatross. These birds are known for their terrible take-offs and landings.
 
 
Chapter #2 - Chapter Two
 
“That was…” Sprawled across a comforter spread over the crypt floor, Spike tried catching his breath after their third earthshattering round.

“Amazing.” Buffy felt boneless, but eventually managed to roll over and nestle into the crux of his arm, her head on his chest.

You’re amazing.” Spike dipped his nose into her hair and breathed deeply, causing an instant reaction.

“Again? Like, again, again?” Buffy smiled coquettishly.

“Yeah, again and again. Can’t hold back.” Spike rolled them. Buffy shifted to accommodate, her legs wrapping loosely around his hips.

Unlike the first frantic times, this was unhurried. Savored.

He teased her, tasting and mapping the slope of her neck. The valley between her breasts. The apex of her inner thighs. When he finally clasped his mouth over her sex, he was treated to a tangy reward andrelished every drop.

Spike scaled her body, dropping soft kisses along the way, ending at her mouth. Though sated, Buffy needed more. With a shift of her hips, she guided him inside.

“Oh, Buffy.” Spike moved fluidly, stretching out every sensation.

“Mmm…Spike.” Buffy cradled his face, savoring his mouth and her own taste.

Their climaxes built slowly, steadily. When the tide of her climax finally hit, she cried out and he was swept away in the wake. With a parting kiss, he settled beside her and pulled her close. Spike trailed his fingers lightly over her arm wrapped around his middle.

“I’m never moving again.” Buffy burrowed deeper into his side.

“Might get a bit peckish before never comes, pet. Know I will.” Spike’s free hand cupped her bottom, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Here, chew on this.” Buffy lifted her arm to his mouth. Spike growled and scattered playful nips up and down her arm, causing her to giggle. A jaw-cracking yawn soon followed.

“Sleep now, kitten. Can’t ravish you properly when you’re spent.” Spike placed a chaste kiss to her crown.

“’m not sleepy.” Buffy yawned again, her words trapped among the sound.

“Whatever you say, luv. Whatever you say.” Those were the last words she heard before falling off to sleep.




“Uhn…uhn…” Buffy bounced on Spike’s lap, steadily building momentum.

“That’s it, don’t hold back.” His chocolate smudged fingers digging into her hips and encouragement spurred her on.

Buffy woke to candle light, flowers and a battered box of chocolates. Even if the flowers were stolen from a grave and the chocolates were half eaten, it was so sweet. Well, sweet until the feeding of said chocolates— naked—gave way to something far sweeter.

“Yes!” With a final driving buck, one leg of the salvaged chair broke off, causing the pair to slide off onto the floor.

“Fuck!” Spike used the jarring landing to his advantage. Grabbing her hips, he pushed up and came into her hard.

Spent, it took a few moments to gather what just happened. Buffy’s laughter broke through the pair’s heavy breathing.

“Um, I think we broke your chair.” Buffy slid off his lap, giggling.

“I think we broke my arse.” Spike stood, rubbing one sore cheek.

“Oh, my poor baby. Let me kiss it better.”— Buffy knelt and turned him. She pressed a soft kiss to the injured area—“You have the cutest heart-shaped birthmark.”

“Do I, now?” Spike tried to look, but failed.

“Yeah, you didn’t know.” Buffy traced the outline with her finger.

“Can’t say ‘ve had any need to stare at my own arse, sweetheart. Especially when I have a fine one such as yours to gander at.” Spike pulled Buffy to standing, spun her around and dropped to his knees. He planted kisses over each round cheek.

“Looks like someone has a birthmark of her own.” Spike traced the heart with the tip of his tongue.

“Mmm…must be new. Don’t stop.” Buffy reached back and clutched his head, holding him to task.

“Won’t. Can’t stop.” Spike continued, his kisses changing to frisky nips. The more he tended to the mark, the more aroused she became. Didn’t matter how many times they were together over the last twenty-four hours, she didn’t want him any less. Actually, quite the opposite.

“Please.”

Spike stood, swept her up and carried her over to the sarcophagus. Their eyes never left one another.

“Spike, I lo—” Before Buffy could finish, there was a sudden shift. As if all the air and electricity was sucked out of the room.

Both set of eyes widened with realization.

“Go, let me go, Spike!” Like a fish on a hook, Buffy squirmed and wriggled to get out of his grasp. Spike held tight and set her on her feet.

Buffy stormed around the crypt collecting her clothes and dressing haphazardly, never casting a glance at Spike who just stood watching. He only intervened when she tried making her escape.

“Don’t. Please don’t.”

He held his ground, then stepped aside. It wasn’t the brashness of the Slayer in her voice that compelled him. It was the beseeching of the woman.

Spike watched her leave. It was the middle of the night, so he could’ve easily followed, but he knew it was best to let her go. No doubt, he’d demand an explanation. Yet for tonight he’d just remember. Hoping she would as well.
 
 
Chapter #3 - Chapter Three
 
The following night Buffy stood outside the Magic Box, waiting for another bout of “It never happened…it never happened…” to make its rounds. Ever since leaving Spike’s crypt, she’d adopted this silent mantra whenever her mind detoured from the everyday to naughty and forbidden territory.

With wayward thoughts finally on lockdown, at least for the moment, she headed inside. Xander, Tara and Willow sat around a book-strewed table, while Anya and Giles stood at the sales counter closing out for the evening.

“Well, lookie who came out of her chocolate coma.” Xander pushed aside the book he was pretending to read.

“Hey guys.” Buffy made her way over to the group.

“Whatcha been up to? Kinda missed you yesterday.” Willow marked her place and looked up at Buffy expectantly.

Once more Buffy thanked whatever deity for the benefits of having both Revello Drive and her dorm room to call home. Especially, like now, when keeping last night’s true whereabouts from her mom and Scoobies.

“Oh, you know, just celebrating the usual way.” Buffy tried not to blush as another round made its trek.

It never happened…

“Does it involve edible undergarments and flavored lube?” Not deterring from task, Anya tallied the till.

Giles shook his head, glasses and handkerchief already in hand. Xander’s forehead hit the table with a thunk.

“No.”— Again, Buffy tried not to blush—“Just Ben and Jerry’s and chick flicks. But hey, thanks for the heads up whose place I’ll never go to on V Day.”—Buffy sat down at the table, eyeing the dozen-or-so titles—“So, I take it by the many book stackage we’re researching more on Ms-Ogilvie-bad-hell-perm?”

“Actually, it’s another god.” Willow beamed, appearing excited about this new project.

“What? Did Hell Bitch send out a nine-one-one for backup?” Buffy stood, knocking back her chair.

Giles noticed her panicking and rounded the counter to intervene.

“No, quite the contrary, Buffy. It appears the god Eros made his presence well known in Sunnydale.” Giles thumbed through one of the smaller books and handed Buffy his findings.

Buffy eyed the sketched drawing of a nude man holding a bow and arrow.

“This is Eros? So some naked guy was running around playing Robin Hood and wasn’t arrested? Go Sunnydale PD.”

“Actually, the form Eros, or more commonly known as Cupid, takes on Earth is of a winged cherub. Most often he stays quite hidden and is far more discreet.” Giles nodded and opened another book.

“Until last night, I take it. So what did the mac daddy of love do?” Buffy picked up her chair and sat back down.

“What I’ve gathered from several sources, including an underpaid barkeep, Eros was highly intoxicated and took far more liberties with his duties than usual. In turn, for the duration of Valentine’s Day those affected reacted, well, out of sorts.”

“Yeah, huh?” Buffy looked around the table for translation.

“Let me sum up Giles’ long-winded Britishness—” Xander stood and swiveled his hips.

“Had the uncontrollable urge to hula hoop?” Buffy snickered.

“More like the uncontrollable urge of dancing with no pantsing.” Willow leaned closer to Buffy and clarified.

“Oh! Oh. Ohhh—”—with each ‘oh’ realization set it—“Oh my god. It happened. It. Happened.” Buffy shook her head, slamming the book shut.

“What happened?” Willow looked to Buffy questioningly. “This. All of this. That’s what happened. Some idiot does a spell and stuff happened.”— Buffy realized too late she’d spoken her thoughts out loud. Instead of trying to explain or waiting for the Scoobies’ Inquisition, she made a hasty exit—“I’m going to train then head out on patrol.”

Buffy shut the door, closing out prying eyes and questioning looks. With a steadying breath, she turned and almost walked directly into Spike.

“Geez! Lurk much?” Buffy startled, her hand automatically went for her stake.

“Vampire. Lurkin’s part of the whole creature-of-the-night gig.” Spike shrugged.

“I guess you heard.” Buffy relaxed, her hand dropped from her waistband.

“Yeah, Cupid had a chubby little hand in what we both knew was undeniably going to happen. Lucky ‘im.” Spike leaned in for a kiss. Buffy pushed past him and walked to the center of the room.

“You’re delusional. This only happened because of the spell.” Buffy tried schooling her features to show a certainty she wasn’t quite feeling.

“Really? Be right tidy, wouldn’t it? Explaining this all away with a spell. S’not how it works, Slayer.” Spike followed, nostrils flared and teeth clenched.

“Not how what works? Don’t you get it, Spike? It doesn’t matter that Cupid is stupid and a little drunk. All that matters is yet again, someone was pulling our strings and took away our control.”

“You’re right. We were out of control, but that’s how passion works. No holding back. Yeah, Cupid put the whammy on us, good and proper. But tell me somethin’, Buffy? With all those arrows flying ‘bout, why were we only drawn to one another? And what’s more, why, even now after the spell’s broken, you still want me as much as I want you.” At first, Spike’s words were rash and angry. Yet by the end they took on a sotto quality, deep and evocative.

“We are so good together, you and I. In all my years, ‘ve never felt this way before, and I know, neither have you.” Spike tenderly cupped her cheek and leaned in for a kiss.

Buffy’s eyelids fluttered, her heart pounding with anticipation. Yet there was a small part of her not giving in. With a final push she fought against the allure threatening to swallow her whole.

“It wasn’t real, Spike.” Her words, though lacking conviction, still stung.

“No? So is it working, Buffy? You keep telling yourself this wasn’t real and your conscience is all shiny and clear?”—Spike stepped away, leaving both of them feeling bereft—“No matter, it doesn’t change what happened. And what will again, when you’re finally ready to admit the truth. Till then—”

Spike turned away and headed to the back door, only stilling when Buffy called out.

“Spike.”

He turned back and watched her approach, trepidation and uncertainty coming off her in waves.

“None of this makes any sense.” Buffy wrapped her arms around herself.

“Love rarely does.” Spike stepped closer, but still gave her the space she clearly needed.

“Is that what this is? Love?” Buffy spoke softly, even he strained to hear.

“Maybe not in the traditional sense, but for me, yeah. I know in the past there’ve been those telling you the same, only to walk away when things got rough. Selfish bastards the lot of them. But ‘m not them, and ‘m not goin’ anywhere. And I’d never take loving you lightly. Yeah, it will be hard, and at times, downright maddening. But you’re worth every moment.”—Spike stepped closer—“I know you don’t love me, Buffy. Yet ‘m hoping, one day, you’ll let me prove to you how amazing we can be together.”

Though patience was certainly not his strong suit, he’d wait for her to make the first move. For however long it took. When this finally happened, it’d be on both their terms. No spells. No pressure. No holding back.

“I do feel something for you.”—His growing grin almost triggered hers but she curbed the urge —“But it’s not love, Spike. I guess it’s, well, don’t hate?” Buffy placed her palms on Spike’s chest and he drew her into his arms. “ ’ll take don’t hate. For now.” This time when their mouths met, the world they knew changed forever.


Viva la Spuffy!