OK. So here it is. My first offering to the world of Spuffy fic, [or fanfic of any kind for that matter] so please be kind! If you look closely there’s a bit of plot but let’s face it it’s all just an excuse to get our favourite duo nekkid.

Many thanks to Abby for all her help and advice.

The characters do not belong to me, I’m just playing with them.



STAKING A CLAIM

~Chapter One~

Stalking through the night, heart pounding and a stake grasped tightly in preparation, the Slayer crept towards the sounds that didn’t belong in a place of rest. But then again, this was Sunnydale, and its dearly departed had a habit of not staying dead and buried. Well, buried at least. A pained cry echoed through the dark and Buffy took off at a run towards the source of the disturbance. Ducking around the neglected resting places of Sunnydale’s former residents, she leapt over a small headstone and skidded to a halt before she gave away her presence.

I suppose I should be grateful, Buffy thought, as the yelling turned out to be nothing more than drunken frat boys taking a shortcut through the cemetery. Honestly, some people deserved to be a vamp’s happy meal! Buffy allowed herself a small grin at her use of a Spikism. Maybe I’ll get through a patrol without ruining my outfit...yep, grateful Buffy, that’s me, she thought as her racing heartbeat returned to normal.

It’s not like I want to fight this thing anyway.

She wasn’t convinced.

Giles sent her out tonight because he’d received a report of a Xylock demon. Admittedly, the so-called source couldn’t be trusted for a second but Giles’ watcher training wouldn’t let him just dismiss it. For five hours, she had wandered the town’s many cemeteries wondering why people still chose to live here and trying desperately to drown out the other voice in her head. The insistent little voice that told her she was hiding.

The voice that urged her to take a chance.

Hence the reason why she was willing to risk her new silk blouse and leather boots if it would provide her with a good enough distraction from the confusion in her head.

Even if that distraction came courtesy of a hulking mass of ugly that was gonna hurt like hell.

Heaving a deep sigh, Buffy twirled her stake between her fingers as she retraced her steps around Restfield Cemetery. Things were quiet. She’d dusted a couple of over confident fledglings over two hours ago and under normal circumstances she would have given up and taken advantage of a rare night off.

But these weren’t normal circumstances.

Ever since Willow’s ‘Will Be Done’ spell, she had found her dreams plagued with the memories of soft lips, strong hands and more specifically the pain in the ass vamp they belonged to. She knew it was ridiculous. It was Spike for crying out loud. Her enemy, and the man who had tried to kill her on numerous occasions.

No, not man, she reasoned. Vampire.

Or so she kept telling herself.

Every night, when she finally gave in to the lure of sleep, she was greeted by that cocky smirk and the bluer than blue eyes of her magically-induced ex-fiancé. Cool fingers traced over her fevered skin as his sinful lips sucked her puckered nipples before continuing their path down to her dripping centre. Buffy had lost count of the number of times she had jerked awake still shuddering from the orgasm her dream lover had given her. She knew how soft his lips felt as he kissed her. How wonderful his tongue felt as it pushed inside her mouth to taste her. How his masterful hands wove into her hair, holding her to him as he deepened their kiss.

During their brief engagement, they had done no more than kiss and cuddle, but Buffy’s imagination was more than happy to fill in the blanks for her. And with these thoughts running through her mind, Buffy ignored the call of her bed and scanned her surroundings for movement. Resolutely not thinking about a low British voice, or chiselled stomach or his soft supple lips...Damn it!

Buffy decided that if she was going to spend her night thinking of the fanged menace regardless, she might as well go home and admit defeat. Not that giving up was a part of Buffy’s nature, but she was rapidly discovering that some things were inevitable in her life. Danger, prophecies, death and, now it would seem, Spike.

In the moments when Buffy was truly honest with herself, she would admit that the spark had been there with Spike ever since their first meeting in the alley behind the Bronze. The air between them had sizzled as he emerged clapping from the shadows. She remembered well the heat in her belly and then the bolt of disappointment as he revealed his vampiric nature and threatened to kill her on Saturday, a fitting tribute for the Feast of Saint Vigieous.

Their subsequent meetings had done little to damper her reaction. Her relationship with Angel gave her something with which to occupy her growing sexual awareness before the whole Angelus nightmare and their reluctant truce. Spike had kept his word and gone against all his instincts in order to save his unfaithful dingbat of a girlfriend. At the time, Buffy secretly wished she could find someone who cared that much about her.

His drunken return and the incident with the Gem of Amara had only proved to her how different Spike was from other vampires. She pictured him standing before her, the sun beating down on his sculpted body as he put his hands to his waist, framing his sizable bulge for her eyes. The bulge he had later pressed against her body as they exchanged kicks and blows.

The man personified sexuality, and you wouldn’t have needed vamp senses to smell her arousal as they had fought out in the open. Buffy had always fought her reaction to Spike as any good slayer should. He was soulless. He was evil.

Then why was it that as Spike held her cradled in his arms at her watcher’s home, she had never felt so safe and protected?

“God, my life is messed up,” she muttered as she made her way into the older section of the cemetery. Buffy’s thoughts were interrupted by a deep growl to her right. Shocked that she had been paying so little attention, she was momentarily stunned, giving the snarling Xylock the opening it required. A heavily muscled arm swung at the shocked slayer, sending her sprawling to the ground. White-hot pain flashed through her as razor sharp claws tore her shirt and opened a deep gash on her shoulder.

“Nice one Buffy, You asked for that!” she said, grumbling to herself, angry that her distraction had gotten her injured, not to mention cost her a new shirt!

Climbing to her feet, she advanced on the Xylock demon and prepared her attack. Judging by the grunts and growls emerging from the creature’s throat, she figured her one-liners would be lost on this guy and so she settled on a more physical approach. She released a flurry of punches and kicks in an effort to bring it to its knees. It was like hitting concrete. Her hands were bruised and bloodied and her shoulder was hampering her attack considerably.

Leaping atop a grave stone to launch an aerial assault, she suddenly felt her legs knocked from beneath her by the demons powerful tail. As she lay winded on the ground, Buffy wondered briefly how she had forgotten about that particular feature before remembering where her mind had been during Giles’ two hour briefing. Somewhere between ancient rituals and the preferred choice of diet of a demon that he wasn’t convinced had been spotted in the first place, she had found herself remembering a pair of strong arms holding her against a denim clad erection as Spike whispered in her ear.

She remembered how his words had made her panties damp with arousal as she had practically begged him to join her upstairs out of her watcher’s earshot. Forget waiting for their wedding night, Buffy wanted this man now. She may not have been a virgin but Spikes dark promises in her ear had assured her that he would be able to show her things she’d never dreamed of. The bulk of the creature suddenly filled her vision as it loomed over her, snarling. One hand splayed across her chest and Buffy struggled to breathe as it pinned her down and raised its bloodied talons in the air, preparing to finish its attack.

Panic gripped the Slayer as she realised that from her disadvantaged position there was no way she’d be able to throw it off. She saw the glint of victory in the creatures eye and she in turn slammed hers shut as its arm began its lethal descent.

Bloody Slayer, who the hell does she think she is?

Spike was making his way back to the Crypt, bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand and a paper bag full of blood packets in the other.

Thinks she’s so bloody special, like she’s too good for me. Not that I care. Silly bint was all over ME! Hell, I could have shagged her pretty blonde brains out if I hadn’t been such a bloody ponce and wanted to wait.

Spike took a swig from the bottle, pausing mid step.

Not that I think she’s pretty. She’s the soddin’ Slayer. God damn chip must be messing with my head in more ways than I know.

Continuing on his journey, Spike kept up his mental argument, vainly trying to convince himself that the reason he couldn’t get a certain perky young slayer out of his thoughts was a residual effect from the witch’s spell. In his one hundred and twenty years, he had learnt that magic always has consequences. Granted, said consequences had never provided him with a lapful of horny Slayer before, but he certainly hadn’t been complaining. Especially when Buffy had ground her pert ass into his aching erection and whispered into his ear how much she wanted him.

Spike’s willpower had never been tested so much before. His demon screamed at him to gather her in his arms and find the nearest flat surface, strip his girl naked and show her what she had been missing. The man within had wanted to take his time, do things properly, wait until they were legally man and wife. After all, Spike loved this woman with all his undead heart and they were soon to be married. What could go wrong? Their entire history had led to this moment. He remembered the first time he saw her dancing with that whelp friend of hers in the Bronze. She was a vision. He had watched her from the shadows, the growing tightness in his jeans only confirming his suspicions. This one was different. He didn’t want to kill her outright. He wanted to sink his cock into her pussy and feel her strangling him as he drank the sweet nectar from her neck.

Never before had he wanted a woman that badly, not even his Dark Princess, and that thought bloody terrified him. Watching her grow over the past two years, he had learned to respect her skill as a warrior and, despite having the opportunities, he found himself unable to snuff her light out from the world. Her fierceness and determination in battle were mirrored only by his own and without realising it, he had come to view her as his equal. When the spell ended and Buffy had leapt away from him complaining about ‘Spike lips,’ he couldn’t help the hollow ache in his stomach. For those all too brief hours everything had fallen into place. He had finally met a woman who loved him as completely as he loved her. Spike never did things by halves. Be it fighting or loving he gave it his all and didn’t hold back. And therein lay the problem.

Spike had fallen, and fallen hard. Sighing loudly, he headed in the direction of his crypt, his mumbled words barely audible...“Love’s bitch every bloody time.”

Spike was almost home when he sensed her. He couldn’t help the slow smile that formed as he turned in her direction. Well, there was no harm in watching her fight. His vampire senses knew how much the dance made her hot, and if he couldn’t have her himself he was damn sure gonna get some mental images so he could take care of himself later.

In the weeks since the spell, Spike had resorted to wanking off every night to thoughts of Buffy in his head. He wondered how she would look astride his lap, riding his hard cock as he fondled her luscious breasts...A twinge in his restrictive jeans brought him back to reality as he headed towards the sounds of fighting in the older part of the cemetery. The smile on his face disappeared in an instant as he smelt something far from arousal in the air.

Blood.

Slayer’s blood. Buffy’s.

He took off in a sprint, his blood and booze forgotten in an instant as he raced towards his girl, silently praying to anyone who would listen that he wasn’t too late.




An angry growl pierced the air, as the weight on Buffy’s chest suddenly disappeared and the sounds of battle filled the night. Opening her eyes in time to see a flash of peroxide blonde and black leather tumbling through the cemetery, Buffy watched as Spike viciously punched and bit at the creature before him. She had never seen him so angry before. Stunned, she watched him deliver a few well-placed kicks to its legs. A sickening crack split the air as the creature roared and fell to its knees.

Lunging forward, Spike snarled into what he assumed was the creature’s ear, “She’s mine! Don’t you dare touch her!”Spike wasn’t even aware of the words passing his lips. Any conscious thought had left him the moment he saw Buffy lying helpless and bleeding on the grass. His vision narrowed until all he could see was the demon in front of him as he pummelled it to the ground.

“Nobody hurts my girl!” he said, hissing in a dark, low voice as he moved around behind the gurgling creature and brought his hands up to finish the job.

Buffy watched in amazement as Spike gripped the creature by the head and with a vicious twist yanked it clean from his shoulders. Her mind was racing. She heard Spike’s words and didn’t know how to react. Slowly climbing to her feet, she backed away from the vampire in front of her.

Spike had fallen into a kneeling position on the ground. His head hung low and he panted to drag unneeded air into his dead lungs. Buffy froze as Spike’s head snapped up and he pinned her with his demon yellow eyes. Still in game face, Spike stormed towards her, grabbing her by the forearms and pinning her to the nearest wall, ignoring the pain in his head as his chip fired in response.

Spike had no idea what he was planning to do. His brain was playing catch-up and his demon was in full control. Never breaking eye-contact, he lowered his forehead to rest against hers. Green stared into a feral yellow as both warriors stood frozen in time.

Buffy knew she should be afraid, or at the very least furious at his manhandling of her, but the only word ringing through her muddled thoughts was his growled “mine”.

“Spike, what-” Her sentence was cut short by another growl from the angry vampire as he slowly pulled back and fixed his eyes on her blood-soaked shirt. Lowering his head, Spike nuzzled his face against Buffy’s cheek before brushing his lips down the column of her neck.

Buffy felt a shiver race down her spine at his possessive actions and could feel his proud smirk against her neck. Spike’s tongue began to trace small circles on her skin as he brought his right hand up to slide the tattered shirt away from her wound.

“You’re hurt,” he whispered before once again lowering his head. “Need to seal your wounds, luv, You’re like a soddin’ beacon for vamps. They can smell that sweet Slayer blood for miles.” Spike ran his tongue gently along the first of the claw marks, and Buffy gasped, pushing her palms flat against the wall and trying desperately not to reach for Spike and pull him closer.

“They can’t have you!” he barked before taking another slow lick of her skin. “Got plans for you luv. Gonna fix you up then you’re coming with me.” Spike released a deep sigh, pulling away just enough to murmur in her ear. “Fuck, you taste so good. Knew you would. Does the rest of you taste as sweet, I wonder?”

“Spike...Oh, God.” Buffy was beyond herself. Her senses were drowning in him. The smell of leather and cigarettes invaded her nose, and she could smell the liquor on his breath. Her hearing focused on his panting breaths and wet licks and her legs felt ready to buckle beneath her. Her brain told her to push him away and just run, but her disobedient body had other ideas. Buffy stifled a moan as once again his rough demon tongue ran the length of her neck to nip gently at her earlobe.

“I know you wanna dance, luv, I can smell you. You want me as much as I want you. Admit it, Slayer."

Damn those stupid vampy senses!

“Spike, please, I can’t...I want...oh...please” Buffy didn’t know if she was pleading for him to stop or to carry on this sweet torment.

“Such pretty begging,” He sighed, giving her shoulder a parting kiss. “Talk to me, sweetheart, tell me what you want.” Her wounds were sealed and her slayer healing would kick in soon enough, but she had to make her mind up...and fast. Spike pulled back to look at her, his demon features melting away until she was looking into those blue eyes from her dreams. He reached up to gently cup her cheek as he leaned in to steal a brief kiss from her lips.

Something deep within her locked into place and it was suddenly so simple. She was the Slayer and no matter what, she came with an expiration date. If it wasn’t for Spike, her time could have ended tonight. Ever since she was called, she had lived her life to other people’s expectations. Even Angel had put her on a pedestal and she was sick of it. She wasn’t normal and never would be.

Looking into the eyes of the man before her, she saw a tenderness that she hadn’t witnessed since the spell. No, she would never be normal. But she could be happy. She had her answer. Reaching a shaking hand forward, she curled her fingers into the soft leather of his duster as the other crept up to play with the soft curls at the nape of his neck. That infuriating smirk was wiped from his lips as she suddenly yanked him towards her. Stopping an inch from his lips, she looked deep into his eyes, willing him to see the truth of her words. “You, Spike. All I want is you.”


~Chapter Two~

As their lips smashed together in a bruising embrace, their tongues fought for dominance over the kiss. His blunt teeth nipped at her bottom lip before soothing the pain with a swipe of his tongue. Spike could taste her strawberry lip gloss as he nibbled and teased, coaxing Buffy’s mouth to open fully, before deepening the kiss and tasting her own unique flavour.

Large hands found her waist and pushed her back against the wall, pressing the length of his body against her petite frame. Reluctantly, Spike pulled away to allow Buffy to breathe. Refusing to break contact entirely, he peppered her face with soft kisses as he slowly ran his hands up her sides before dropping down to trace small circles at the base of her spine. Gripping her ass, he pulled her roughly against his aching hardness and ground his erection into her stomach. Buffy gasped and he took the opportunity to dive in for another heated kiss

Oh God, Buffy thought, if he kisses this well what else can he do?, The kisses they had shared whilst under Willow’s spell had been wonderful. The gentle, heartfelt kisses of a couple with all the time in the world. These were different. Free from magic, there was a urgency between them that neither could fight. Buffy pushed her hands under his duster as Spike shrugged it off his back. Pulling his black t-shirt from his jeans, she found his cool skin, pulling him against her in an effort to get closer.

“Christ, luv, the taste of your kisses has haunted me.” He gasped as Buffy threw her head back to breathe, exposing the long column of her neck.

“Mmmm...me too, Spike. Every night, I’ve dreamt of this. Of you.” He chuckled richly as he pushed a knee in between her legs, lifting it slightly and grinding it against her burning centre.

“Should’ve told me, pet. Would’ve taken care of you. No girl of mine should be left wantin’ while I’m around.” Mine. There was that word again. She groaned aloud as the constant pressure between her legs set her blood on fire.

“Spike?” she asked in a small voice that betrayed her nervousness. Sensing her fear, Spike drew back to cup her face with both hands. He looked at her with concern in his eyes, worried that she had changed her mind.

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew the obstacles that they would have to face if this went ahead. Not the least of which being a pissed of Scooby getting a bit stake happy. As he stroked his thumbs over her cheeks, he also knew that he would do whatever it took to keep her by his side. He didn’t know when exactly it had happened, but looking at her he knew with certainty he loved this woman in front of him, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to lose her now.

“Did you mean it?” she asked. Buffy was unable to meet his eyes as she waited for his reply. Her insecurities shone through as her mind flashed back to her previous romantic encounters. She remembered every word of rejection by Angelus and the least said about Parker the better. The fact that Spike had witnessed first-hand her humiliation only made it worse.

“Did I mean what, sweetling?” he asked, gently cupping her cheeks to bring her eyes to his.

“You...you said I was...yours. Did you mean it... or is this just about scratching an itch, bragging rights for screwing the Slayer?” Buffy held her breath. She could feel her walls building up, preparing for the hurt yet again. Please, Spike, don’t be like the others...don’t hurt me.

Spike cocked his head to the side and studied her thoughtfully. She looked so vulnerable in that moment that he found himself wanting to wrap her in his arms and protect her from the cruel world around her. He only hoped she would one day let him.

“I meant it, Buffy,” he answered softly. “You’re mine. You’ve always been mine. And tonight I’m gonna prove it.” The previous urgency had disappeared as he lowered his head to kiss her waiting lips, folding her into his strong embrace. The kiss quickly grew passionate and Buffy slipped her hands from around his waist to the front of his jeans. Gently squeezing the impressive bulge, she smiled in satisfaction as Spike groaned and lowered his head to rest at her shoulder.

“Christ, pet, can’t wait to feel your hot little hand wrapped around my cock. Gonna feel so good.”

Her confidence grew at the thought that she, Buffy Anne Summers, could reduce the master vampire to panting in her ear and she hadn’t even touched him yet. Sliding her hands up, she found the zip of his jeans, but was stopped by Spike’s hands before she had the chance to draw it down. “I thought you wanted...”

“Oh, pet, I do. Believe me. But not here. Takin’ you back to my place.”

Buffy raised her eyes to his, “Your place?” she asked.

“Yeah, it’s not much, but I’ll be damned all over again if we’re gonna have our first time against the wall next to a headless demon corpse!” The corners of his mouth crept upwards and he shrugged his shoulder in such a way that it was almost childlike.

Buffy couldn’t help but smile at him. Where had this Spike been hiding? She’d seen how much he loved his insane sire and now he was gazing at her with the same look of devotion he had always reserved solely for Drusilla.

“Gonna do right by you, my darling girl, wanna lay you down on my bed and worship every inch of your gorgeous body.” The smile spread as Buffy glanced over at the forgotten Xylock. She reached up to wrap her arms around his shoulders. Leaning forward, she kissed his neck and ran her tongue over Drusilla’s siring mark, delighting in the full body shudder that ran through him.

Bleedin’ Christ! This girl’s gonna be the death of me! Or should that be undeath?...or is it...oh, who gives a shit? Stop talkin’ to yourself you stupid git!

Spike gave himself a mental slap, not wanting to miss a second of the affections from the little temptress he held in his arms. “You’re playing with fire, sweetheart,” he said, groaning as she ran her blunt teeth along his muscled neck. She giggled as she pulled back to look into his eyes and asked as coyly as was possible under the circumstances,

“This place of yours...is it far?”

Blue eyes flashed with mischief as he quickly retrieved his discarded duster and swept her into his arms before purposefully striding towards his crypt. Combined laughter rang out across the cemetery as Spike dropped a kiss into her golden hair. “You have no idea what you’ve got yourself in for, little girl.” Buffy smiled back, tightening her hold around his neck.

For once, she was inclined to agree with him.

TBC...