Disclaimer: IP rights to BtVS belong to Joss Whedon and the Powers That be. No infringement of those rights is intended.

A/N: Some semi-violent smut in this chapter. Don't read if you're offended by that sort of thing.
A huge thank you to Diabola and Chicklet for beta work, and a big thanks to those who have reviewed so far. Please keep telling me what you think, I value your thoughts!

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Chapter 6

The sinking sun found Spike heading back to the Yard. Since the club was the only lead he had on the Slayer, his choices for a plan of action were limited and in the absence of a better idea, he figured he'd fall back on watching and waiting.

Finding a bar nearby, he took a seat, knowing that most clubbers would gather there before moving on and hitting the dance floor. He wasn't disappointed as boisterous groups of chattering twenty-somethings began to arrive, meeting, greeting and flirting over the next couple of hours.

A tall blonde brushed against him in her efforts to reach the bar, sparing him a quick glance to apologise.

Spike smiled at the woman, raising his eyebrow.

"Careful who you jostle there, pet. Another man might get ideas," he drawled, letting his voice drop just a little lower. The blonde's mouth opened as the full effects of Spike's charm struck her head on, and she turned to give him her full attention.

Forty minutes of tedious small talk later the vampire strode into the club, the pounding beat and growled lyrics of heavy rock music meeting with his full approval.

"I have to go to the powder room. Want to dance when I get back?" The blonde girl, whose name he'd not bothered to remember, smiled invitingly while running her nails up his arm. Spike managed to turn his contemptuous sneer into a wolfish grin.

"Sure pet. I'd love to dance." 'Just not with you,' he added silently.

Once she was lost in the press of bodies, Spike scanned the club for the Slayer and felt only a faint tingle. She wasn't in the main bar then. All the better, it would give him the opportunity to find a nice secluded place from which he could watch and hopefully gain some insight as to the chinks in Buffy's armour; chinks he was sure were there, however much she tried to hide them. He found the stairs and wandered up to the second floor, propping himself in a shadowed corner to await his prey.

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"Beth! You're up, babe," Buffy's co-worker Dee called out to her the second she breezed into the changing area.

Dee was twenty-two, with black hair cut in a spiky style that emphasized her incredibly dark eyes, and attitude oozed from her every pore. She was the first friend Buffy had made in LA since her return to the city, first getting her a plausible fake ID and then putting in a word with the owner of the club so that Buffy had a way to support herself. Of course, Dee had no idea about Buffy's second job, simply accepting her occasionally sudden disappearances as typical flaky Valley Girl behaviour.

Adding a finishing coat of lip gloss, Buffy swung away from the mirror.

"How do I look?"

"Ugh! Too gorgeous, as ever, you bitch," Dee made a face then laughed. Meeting her friend's hand in a high five as they passed, Dee made for her locker to grab her jacket, while Buffy headed for the door that led into the club proper.

"Enjoy your date, Dee," Buffy shouted on the way out.

She loved rock night in the club. The music was frantic and angry, the customers darker and closer to the edge than the normal crowd. If they only knew the truth, she reflected, - they'd be cowering at home having a bible study group, not walking around with satanic slogans emblazoned across their chests.

Keying into the register, Buffy looked up at the press of bodies lining the bar.

"Who needs a drink?" She shouted, catching the pounding bass line of the song playing and letting it carry her through her shift as she swayed to the rhythm.

Because she was only covering for Dee, Buffy's shift ended four hours later, leaving her plenty of time to enjoy herself. After a brief visit to the changing room to check her makeup, the lure of the dance floor proved to strong to resist, particularly when she heard Nine Inch Nails' 'Closer' begin. Once she found a few square feet of dance space she let the beat flow through her, surrendering to the rhythm and offering her body to the music.

'Help me! I broke apart my insides,
Help me! I've got no soul to sell.'

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Spike observed the Slayer shimmy her way through order after order as she worked, admiring both her skill and her toned, supple body. Tonight she was wearing a short, emerald green chinese dress and those calf length boots again, and she looked enticingly exotic.

His body reacted predictably with his demon following suit, forcing him to stifle a growl that rose involuntarily to his throat. With more effort than he cared to admit, he restrained himself, managing to focus on the girl's behaviour as he tried to find any hint or clue that would explain what was going on.

Buffy didn't slip once, carrying on as though she was simply an attractive girl doing a job. He knew she was used to living a double life; hell, she'd managed to conceal the fact that she was a supernatural demon hunter from her mother for years, so he was under no illusion that she couldn't act. No, he was hoping for something that his demon could discover, but four hours later he was still none the wiser.

This looked promising, though; the girl was finishing up. When Buffy ducked out the back, Spike made his way down to the main floor, thinking she was leaving. He was close to the exit when awareness of her presence halted him, and spun back towards the room, searching the crowd. In a sea of black clad bodies the green was a beacon of colour, calling to him. He paused for a moment, registering the song and smirking. He'd always been fond of dramatic entrances.

Circling around behind her, he approached cautiously to avoid alerting Buffy to his presence. The blonde vampire soon realised he needn't have bothered - the Slayer was too far gone into the music to notice anything. So when he looped an arm around her from behind and pressed in close to her back, he made sure he was ready for both the reflexive backwards head butt and the clenched fist, catching her wrists and spinning her to face him as though their movements had been choreographed.

There was absolutely no fear in her face, he noted, even as he smiled at her with a twinkle in his eye. Back in the day he would have expected determination, shock and fear to chase over her features, but here and now there was nothing but ferocity which melted into a sly tease. Her hazel eyes held a mixture of dark knowledge and lust as he beheld her while their pelvises ground together in perfectly matched gyrations.

'Help me tear down my reason,
Help me, it's your sex I can smell'

And Spike could, the unmistakeable fragrance tantalising his nostrils even over the smell of so many warm bodies. The erection that had insistently strained at his fly all night began to ache painfully and he hissed when the Slayer deliberately rubbed her flat stomach against it. He transferred his grip on her wrists to one hand, keeping them trapped behind her back and freeing his fingers to roam up her side to her breast. A malicious grin curved his lips and he squeezed, allowing his thumb to strafe lazily over her nipple and drawing an answering gasp from Buffy's mouth.

'I want to fuck you like an animal'

The song screamed its primal chorus and both blue eyes and hazel flickered with intent. Even as the song bled into the next one, Buffy was leading the vampire through the same door she'd used the night before, breaking into a run down the corridor. Spike caught her at the exit to the alley, falling upon her body and taking possession of her mouth as they crashed against the release bar and spilled outside. Their heedless flight carried them to the far wall, the impact shoving Spike's firmly muscled torso tightly against Buffy's yielding curves.

The Slayer clawed and raked at his clothes as their kiss became a struggle for supremacy; Spike's cold fingers glided along her skin to burrow under her dress, cupping the toned mounds of her ass before digging in viciously as he lifted her, a response to Buffy's teeth sinking into his lower lip.

She was incandescent in his arms, the thunder of blood deafening him to the sound of his zipper opening. So overwhelmed was he by the fog of his lust that he didn't realise her intention until her hot hand grasped his shaft, her fingers tightening around him until the very tips of her nails sank into the delicate skin.

Spike ripped his mouth from hers and the demon emerged with the roar of pleasurable pain he could not contain as she started to stroke him with feverish speed. One hand released Buffy's buttocks to retaliate, ripping her panties from her before closing unerringly on the bundle of nerves at her centre. He was beyond all thought and reason now, beyond anything other than this savage mating. His fangs plunged through the thin material covering her swollen nipple, piercing her breast as he simultaneously twisted and pinched her clit between his fingers. Hearing the Slayer's primitive scream as she found her peak, his answering growl vibrated through her body while she jerked helplessly against him, her hand involuntarily clenching around his cock and bringing him to his release in a supernova of sensation he hadn't experienced since the night he'd been turned by Drusilla.

His crisis past, Spike asserted control over his demon and eased his fangs from Buffy's heated flesh, shaking his head to dispel the haze clouding his mind. Her heart was still racing, her breathing laboured, and she clung tightly to his body while regaining her senses. Spike let her slide to the ground but kept her trapped within the confines of his arms, the wall behind her.

"Slayer?" He watched Buffy's face intently for any signs that this would turn into yet another battle to the death, and it was only due to his close attention that he saw the tiny flinch deep within her eyes.

"Not any more," she answered, and the vampire couldn't tell if her voice was tinged with relief or regret.

"Buffy? What happened? What've you done?" Spike cursed, he didn't want to start interrogating her after the experience they'd just shared, but Whistler's warnings still echoed in his mind.

Her smile chilled him.

"I'm afraid Buffy's not in right now. Would you like to leave a message?"

Spike moved his grip from her waist to her upper arms.

"Listen to me. Whatever you did, we've got to find a way to undo it. Something is very wrong here," he gritted his teeth, trying to curb his temper.

Buffy laughed in his face, a bitter note in her youthful voice.

"Why should I care, Spike? The world didn't care when everything went wrong for me. No one gave a damn. Hell, pretty much everybody I knew was lining up to have a piece of me, to twist the knife just a little bit more. And everyone was so quick to tell me how it was all my fault, that I had it coming, that it was somehow justice. Well, given how good I am at screwing things up, this just seems like a natural progression. Let the new Chosen One figure it all out. I've moved on," she spat.

The vampire holding her in his arms, however, knew differently. Buffy's rage might be sustaining her, but the pain underlying it ran too deep for her to hide from him.

"You know that's not true, pet," he told her softly. "Your mum... she's worried about you."

Buffy raised her eyebrow.

"Yeah, that's why she kicked me out of the house; because she was so concerned. You'll understand if I find that a less than convincing lie, Spike," she drawled sarcastically.

"Buffy...," he tried again. Dammit, why couldn't he get through to her?

The brunette suddenly twisted in his arms and pushed, sending him sailing across the alley to smash into the opposite wall to land in a crumpled heap. Her face was a mask of contempt.

"It's Bethmara now, Spike. Not Buffy, not Slayer," she corrected him. "I've changed. A lot. But then, our little encounter should have shown you that," she smirked.

Sidling up to him as he struggled to his feet, wincing in pain, she whispered in his ear, "Time for you to run home to Drusilla, lover, I have work to do."

With that parting shot, Buffy made a complicated gesture and vanished. The bruised blond vampire paused for a moment before turning away, retrieving a cigarette from the battered packet in his coat and lighting up. A slow smile grew on his face as he inhaled the smoke. Despite the fact that he didn't have a clue what the hell was going on, and despite the fact that the girl was obviously in denial about the disaster area that was her life, she'd shown him more than enough to know her passion was alive and well.

'And hungry, my boy,' a lascivious thought added.

He was definitely starting to have fun.

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A/N: The song is "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails