Never Ever Tell by Lilachigh

No Surrender


She was nervous, trembling. Her hands felt damp and she had a dreadful desire to giggle girlishly. And she never did anything girlishly. She was the Slayer!

But meeting him tonight, in his bedroom! OK, she’d so been invited but what would Willow and Xander think when she told them? Xander would be green with envy and Willow would be all “oh why couldn’t it have been me”.

Buffy knocked at the door and a deep, melodious voice said, “Come in, Buffy.”

She turned the handle and walked in to see – the man of her dreams, Jonathan! He was standing by a large desk, holding a book, and she tried to ignore the fact that a great black-sheeted waterbed was tucked into the alcove on the far side of the room. Jonathan and beds – oh, she so did not want to think about the two things in the same sentence, because since she and Riley were having togetherness problems, sex was not on her nightly agenda.

“How did you know it was me, Jonathan?” she breathed as she walked towards him, glad she’d put on her tightest white top and red leather trousers.

“Oh Buffy, I can always tell when my friends are around,” Jonathan beamed at her, carefully forgetting to mention that he’d watched her approach out of the window five minutes before because he had nothing else to do.

“You wanted to see me?” she said anxiously, wondering if she’d done something wrong.

“I always like seeing you, Buffy. It’s hard to find time for friends in our busy lives, isn’t it?”

Buffy blushed. Jonathan considered her his friend! That was marvellous.

“Are you and Riley any closer since our little chat?”

The Slayer hesitated. Jonathan had explained that Riley sleeping with Faith when she was in Buffy’s body wasn’t the whole reason Buffy no longer trusted him. It was because he’d looked into her eyes and still thought it was Buffy!

Jonathan shook his dark head sadly. “Oh dear. Well, perhaps when we have finally tracked down Adam, things will improve. And speaking of which, that is why I need your help, Buffy.”

“I’ll do anything you ask!”

With a snap, Jonathan closed the book he was holding. “I want you to keep Spike out of my way for the rest of this evening.”

“Spike? But Jonathan, he’s chipped, he can’t hurt us.”

“I have a plan – ” He laughed. “There is a certain magical process that, although it could be deadly dangerous to me, the perpetrator, might be extremely useful in defeating Adam.”

“Willow’s good at spells. So’s her friend Tara,” Buffy put in eagerly.

“Ah Buffy, amateurs are often good at little things, but I’m afraid this spell calls for someone with, shall we say, a little more experience.”

“Of course, Jonathan. I’m sure you’ll be marvellous. The danger will mean nothing to you. And Spike - ?”

“Spike could ruin the whole thing. I think he would sense what I was doing and try and stop it in some meddling way. Oh, -” He laughed away her concern. “I doubt he would succeed, but he might delay things.”

Buffy nodded. “So I have to keep him busy for a whole night?” She frowned. “Do you have a plan?”

There was a long pause as Jonathan smiled and seemed to be thinking great thoughts, then - “No, I don’t. But I’m sure you’ll think of something. Just remember, the future of the whole world depends on you. I need Spike to be preoccupied between midnight tonight and six a.m. tomorrow morning, but I don’t want him to suspect anything magical is happening. I’m relying on you, Buffy. I know you won’t let me down!”

Buffy gave him a sharp glance. “I’ll certainly do my best, Jonathan. But spending a whole night ‘distracting’ Spike – you don’t mean you want me to – well – distract him!”

Jonathan sighed as if he had all the worries of the world on his shoulders. “Buffy, we are at war and in battle you are sometimes called to make a sacrifice, to lay down your life for your cause. I am not asking for your life, but perhaps for something you hold just as sacred. You must use whatever weapons you have in this fight. This is a mission for good against evil. Nothing is more important than the mission!”

Buffy arrived at Spike’s crypt just before midnight feeling distinctly uneasy. Jonathan was marvellous, and of course he was Jonathan, so what he said had to be right, didn’t it?

Or could he be wrong this time? He was asking her to make the supreme sacrifice – sleep with Spike, have sex with William the Bloody, make love to a bleached vampire with sapphire eyes and a mouth that begged to be kissed and - okay! Jonathan was right. She should never have doubted him.

She crashed through the doorway and skidded to a halt in front of a startled vampire who was sitting in his armchair, reading, sipping Scotch from what looked remarkably like one of Giles’ crystal glasses.

“Slayer?” He put down the glass and stared with hostile eyes at the blonde girl in bright red leather trousers standing aggressively in front of him, her hands on her hips.

“Spike!”

“Yes – I was the last time I looked – except, vampire here, no mirrors.”

“Spike!”

“I think we’ve already established that fact, pet,” he drawled, closing the book and leaning back in his chair, stretching out his legs and tapping his boot toes together.

Buffy hesitated and stared down at the black T shirt clinging to the muscles of his forearms. To her horror she realised she had no idea what to do next. Go to crypt, seduce Spike, keep him busy for six hours, go home, had been the plan. Well, she’d done part one. It was part two that was turning out to be a little trickier than she’d imagined.

How did you seduce the person who had once been your deadliest enemy? Flirting was something other girls did. There’d probably been a class teaching it which she’d missed due to trying to stake same deadliest enemy and his mad bitch ho partner at the time.

Spike glared up at the girl in front of him, puzzled and annoyed. Bloody hell, couldn’t the Slayer give him one night off from constant arse kicking? What with monster-boy Adam making come on noises at him and having to think of plans and schemes to split up the Scoobies, his head ached.

All he wanted to do this evening was to sit quietly with a nice drop of Giles’ best whisky, Joyce’s book club recommendation and relax.

And instead he had an energy charged ball of blonde Slayer swaying back and forwards in front of him, her tits poking suggestively through her skimpy white top and all she could say was his name and glare at him with those great golden-green eyes of hers. Did she have no idea how bloody seductive she looked, just standing there?

Sod the bloody chip. It would be worth the screaming agony just to grab her, bend her over his knee, pull down those slutty leather trousers and wallop her backside until she begged him to stop. Then he’d grab that rosy arse and push it apart and thrust himself in as deep as he could and – Spike’s eyes began to glaze as he felt violent movement in parts of his body now covered carefully by Joyce’s novel.

Buffy felt the blood rushing through her veins. She felt such an idiot, such a failure. She realised she had no idea how to be seductive, how to lead a guy on to make love to her. She would have to report back to Jonathan that she’d failed. And while one part of her was quite thankful, because, hey she had a boyfriend and should be faithful to him - there was another part that felt incredibly disappointed.

“I’ve got to go,” she said abruptly and turned back to the crypt door.

Spike stared after her in amazement. What had got into the stupid bint? He would have said she was drunk, but there was no smell of alcohol, just a lot of perfume, as if she’d sprayed it all over her body. God she was so aggravating! In his fantasy, he zoomed on to Buffy’s second serious fuck of the evening which included chains and hot candle wax.

Buffy stopped before she opened the door to the night air. This was running away, giving in, surrendering. Slayers didn‘t do any of those things. They went down fighting, giving their all, doing their best.

She spun round. This was no time to be bashful. She didn’t do girly. She was the Slayer! “Spike, I know it’s a ridiculous question because I know we hate each other, but would you like to have sex with me?”

To be continued