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Warning: This is darker and dirtier than my norm. Please don't read it and then claim I didn't warn you. Specific warnings would ruin any surprise, so I'm not gonna give any.
This is an AU piece, but will be familiar enough I suspect. It is a one-shot, told in Five Parts (Point of view shifts depending upon the part) and is un-beta'd. (If you seen anything tragic-please let me know.)
Disclaimer: The characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer are owned by Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and Fox studios. This story is not meant to infringe upon anyone's rights, only to entertain. Yep, only borrowing. These characters are due back in a few days.
Part One Wednesday 9:14 pm
Buffy half-heartedly surveyed the dismal contents of her refrigerator. She closed the door with a shrug; she was too tired to eat anyway. She’d actually sold a few shots to a local paper this week; she could afford to spend a couple bucks at the deli down the street, but it seemed like more work than it was worth. She turned instead to the bottle of cheap red wine she’d bought to celebrate the sales. It sat on her clean but ugly countertop, its label vaguely French in appearance though it undoubtedly originated in California.
A shower, a glass of wine and bed; she had no other plans for the evening. So she was startled moments later by the firm knock on her door. She looked over with only mild curiosity; it wouldn’t be a friend on the other side. She worked too hard and too much to have any of those. She gave her appearance a quick glance in the mirror above the sink. She’d been dressed for work and still was, excepting the shoes. Her simple black shirtdress had a few more wrinkles than it had that morning, and a few hairs had escaped her updo but she supposed that she was presentable at least. Anyone hoping for more should call first.
Wishing, not for the first time, that her landlord had thought to put in a peephole, Buffy turned the handle, pulled open the door and saw the man standing outside. She gasped. Shit. He was gorgeous, easily the best looking man she’d ever seen, almost too pretty to be masculine but with a dangerous air that had little to do with the sleek black leather covering his form. Her mouth opened and closed twice as she worked to compose herself. You’ve seen an attractive man before, pull it together. But it was more than that. As tired as she’d been, when she’d opened the door her entire body had gone on alert. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck were standing straight up. Her pulse was racing. Adrenaline was simultaneously telling her to run and to surrender.
“Yes?” Her voice came out a breathless whisper and she berated herself. Buffy Summers was not the kind of girl to go all swoony at the sight of the man, no matter how blue his eyes were. She’d been on her own since she was seventeen, almost five years now. Everything that she had, she’d earned for herself and she hadn’t done that by getting mixed up with men, especially not bad boy types wearing black leather dusters.
The man studied her with an arched eyebrow and a bemused smirk. “Summers,” he questioned in a lightly accented voice. “You the photographer?”
Pictures, he's here for pictures. I do pictures. Buffy nodded. “I am. Can I help you?”
“I want pictures.”
He’s probably in a band, she thought, he’s probably looking for someone to come to a show a take a few shots for their website and such.It was the kind of thing she got asked to do just often enough to make rent each month. “Certainly, when were you…” she started in what she hoped was a professional tone.
British, the sexy voice was definitely British. She shivered. “Oh, but that’s not really…I could probably come…”
He grinned. “I’m sure you could, pet. But if you want the cash, you’ll be takin’ my picture tonight.” He pulled his hand out of his pocket to show her the wad of bills in his fist. The top bill was a hundred.
Buffy blushed. “I didn’t…” She took a deep breath. “If you’re in a hurry, I suppose that I could take a few shots tonight and develop them in the morning. You’d be able to pick them up…”
“Tonight. I want them tonight.”
“I don’t have a darkroom here, I couldn’t.” She frowned and glanced nervously around her apartment. She used it as a studio, occasionally having clients stop by for more formal sittings, and had only a small corner screened off as a bedroom. “I guess I could use the digital, but they wouldn’t be as…”
“That’ll do nicely.”
“Okay. I guess…” She frowned as she realized that they were still standing in her door. “Oh! I’m sorry. Please, come in Mr…?”
His lips twitched as he entered her studio. “It’s Spike, luv. Just Spike.”
“Right.” He’s got to be in a band or maybe movies. He’s got that unnaturally hot and charming thing going for him. “Okay Spike, I’ll just get things set up. There’s a mirror in the bathroom if you need to…”
Right. Of course you are. You couldn’t look better in a dream. She gave him a smile. “Good, then I’ll just…” she trailed off. She was shaking, trembling really. She needed a drink, just a few sips to settle her nerves. What is wrong with me? “I…I was just about to open a bottle of wine before you stopped by,” she started, hoping to sound sophisticated, “will you join me?” He thinks I’m hitting on him, now. Why did I do that? He’s not that… She startled when she realized that he was speaking to her.
“I rarely turn down a drink.” He gave her a wide grin, like he’d just told a witty joke. “Why don’t I handle that while you get set up?” He nodded towards her tiny kitchen. “Through here?”
“Umm… yes. The ummm…the corkscrew is in the drawer by the microwave.” Her pulse slowed slightly as he walked away and she hurried to set up a chair and drape the gray fabric for the backdrop. Definitely the one with the watermarks; it goes with that sexy-edgy thing he has going on. The blue would just clash with his shirt and, hell, it would probably look grey next to his eyes anyway. Definitely the grey. She was placing her camera on to a tripod when he came back.
He waited until he was directly behind her before he spoke. “Your wine.”
She jumped and laughed nervously. “I…I didn’t even hear you walking.”
He just smirked.
Her stomach tumbled and she fought to regain control of her suddenly raging libido. That’s not sexy, it’s irritating. This man, this whole situation should be pissing me off. Why Aren’t I pissed off? She reached out and took her glass, swallowing a third of it before responding, “Thanks.”
He nodded and turned towards the chair she had pulled out. “We’re all set then?”
“Yeah. I’m all set…so…are these for your girlfriend or…a portfolio, maybe?” She blushed again and took another quick sip of her wine. Real subtle, Buff! “If I know what the pictures are for, it can help me take the right kind of shots.” She smiled again. “So, what are you looking for here?”
Part Two Wednesday 9:37 pm
What am I looking for? It was a fair question, Spike supposed, he might even have answered it if he could. He narrowed his eyes as he studied the girl in front of him. He could hear her heart racing, smell her arousal; it intrigued him. He hadn’t put her in thrall. He could have, but he didn’t like to.
When he’d been alive, hunting had been commonplace amongst his class. It was sport though, not sustenance and he’d always felt it was more sporting to hunt with a bow and arrow than a shotgun. It didn’t take much of a hunter, he thought, to kill with a gun. He saw the thrall the same way, an unsportsmanlike advantage.
He didn’t need any extra advantages. Humans were all too easy to kill. He’d have preferred hunting a more challenging prey.
So he hadn’t put her in thrall. Yet…she clearly had more than a passing interest in him. He’d charmed enough women to know that he was attractive. He’d seen lust in their eyes time and again before the terror. There was more than lust in this girl’s eyes though and it confused him.
“I’m just looking to get some pictures taken, luv.”
He watched the blood rise in her cheeks again. Charming.
She ducked her head before speaking. “If you just want to take a seat here.” She pointed to the chair.
Spike placed his glass on the nearby table and walked over to the chair. Dropping into it, he slouched lazily with his legs spread wide and shot her a defiant glance.
He expected her to tell him to sit up straight and to place his hands in his lap. Instead, she smiled and nodded. “Yeah,” she said distractedly, “that’s good.” Suddenly all business, she looked at him through the camera. He wondered what she saw.
“That’s really good. Let’s just…” she trailed off, but he didn’t get the impression that she was really speaking to him anyway.
He watched as she darted out from behind the camera to adjust a lamp. When she peeked through the camera again he brought his eyes up to meet hers straight on.
She came towards him suddenly. “Let’s just turn the chair.” She gestured impatiently for him to stand up and quickly turned the chair sideways in front of the backdrop. “Now…” she watched as he sat back down, “Yeah and just bring your hands up, like…” Buffy reached out and took his hands in hers. She froze.
She swallowed. “Sorry. Just maybe cross your fingers.” She nodded as he did what she instructed. “Yeah. This is…this is going to be good.”
Spike fought off the urge to laugh as he watched her hurry back behind the camera. He liked her.
It was a surprising discovery; he hadn’t liked a human in decades. Hell, he’d barely liked any when he’d been human. But this girl intrigued him. She was an open book, every response, emotion, thought; they were all right there for him to see. And yet, she was utterly unpredictable. She’d found him attractive from the beginning and yet she had almost refused the job. One minute she could barely look at him, she was so nervous, and the next she was bossing him about almost indifferently.
He wondered what she’d taste like.
“Damn, the shadows are really cool right now. I should schedule more sittings at night.” She took several shots before looking up at him from behind the camera. “Just look slightly to the left.” She gave him a big smile. “That’s great, Spike.”
His cocked jumped eagerly and he tried to tell himself that she wasn’t his type. Certainly he could acknowledge that she was attractive, with her pretty green eyes and tight little body, but she wasn’t really special. Isn’t she? All soft and golden-like. Fuck!
Eager, suddenly, to be done with his foolish endeavor, he wondered how much longer she would need. “Pet? We’re almost through here, yeah?”
She looked up at him, blinking as though she had forgotten that he was even there. “Yeah, if you…we’re all set. I’ll just print these out for you.”
He got up from the chair and reclaimed his glass. Taking a sip, he frowned. Not swill, but not good enough for her. Girl ought to be sipping on fine champagne. He could tell that she had fine taste. A glance around her apartment told him that she didn’t have the money for it, but that she preferred the classics. He followed her over to the printer. Give me the photos quick, luv. Maybe I can just leave then.
He stood closer than he should have. He knew it was making her nervous, but it was also making her wet. He swallowed, trying not to inhale too deeply. He stalked away. How long does the bloody printer take?
Spike turned to stare out the window. It was all her fault. He wouldn’t have come here, wouldn’t have wanted to see what she saw if she hadn’t have left him, again. “You’re all different. Not hardly my prince anymore. All glowy and showy. You’re hers now.” He hadn’t a fucking clue who she meant. He’d railed and ranted with her for hours; he’d never been unfaithful, in all the years of watching her fuck whatever caught her eye, he’d remained true to her. She was his dark beauty. She was his princess. She left him.
The girl was holding some pictures in her hand. She held them out to him.
He took the pictures, but studied her face for a moment before looking down. He looked the same as ever, he supposed. His clothes changed, his hair changed, but his face never did. He looked the same as he had the day he’d died. Don’t I?
Part Three Wednesday 10:07 pm
Buffy watched him study the pictures wordlessly for several minutes. He was frowning, but he’d been doing that before she’d handed him the pictures. He put them down suddenly.
“I’m sorry. If they’re not what you wanted, we can take…”
“’S not the pictures; it’s me.”
Her eyes widened. “But…you’re beautiful.” The words were out before she’d had a chance to think about them. She blushed and moved to turn away.
His hand on her arm stopped her. His eyes bore in to her and she remembered reading that blue fire burned hotter than red. “You think that?” He sounded angry. “You think that I’m beautiful?” His hand moved up to cup her chin.
She couldn’t deny it. She nodded. “Yes.”
Buffy waited while he stared at her for what felt like an eternity. Why is so angry? He must know how attractive he is. Her heart raced painfully in her chest. She wanted to pull away, but she couldn’t. He held her more tightly with his gaze than with his hand. And then suddenly he’d broken that connection, turned away and she had only the shortest of moments to gasp before his mouth came crashing down on hers.
The kiss was fierce, harder and more possessive than any she had ever had before. Her hands grabbed at his jacket for support, but he didn’t stop until she was gasping almost desperately for breath.
Her hand came up to touch her lips in shock. He watched her with an almost curious expression. She stared at him as she struggled with quick shallow breaths. “You. Oh.” More.
Buffy pushed herself back towards him, pushed her hands into his bleached blond hair and pulled his mouth back down to hers. It had never been like this before. Sex had been pleasant, fun even, but she’d never needed it. She needed him. She knew that it made no sense. She didn’t know him. He’d barely even spoken to her and yet, she needed him.
Stranger still, she felt that he needed her just as badly.
Part Four Wednesday 10:19 pm
Spike didn’t hold back any longer. His hands slid roughly down her back and, cupping her ass, he pulled her up so that her legs wrapped around his waist. He dragged his mouth away from hers and used it nip along her neck and collarbone. He could feel her pushing against his jacket, trying almost frantically to tug it over his shoulders. He pulled one arm away from her at a time and shifted so that the duster hit the floor with a loud thud.
She pushed her mouth up again and brushed her swollen lips across his. He swiped his tongue across her plump bottom lip.
He tightened his grip on her hips and rubbed himself against her. “You want me?” He asked.
“Yes,” she said breathlessly, “Oh God, Yes.”
“Because you think I’m beautiful?” His head tilted quizzically.
He used one hand to hold her chin so that he could study her as she struggled to respond.
She shook her head, no. “Because you are beautiful,” she whispered.
Her answer both thrilled and irritated him. Stupid chit. I’m a bloody monster; your body’s been screaming it to you all night. He stalked towards the screen he assumed was hiding her bed. He placed her on the coverlet and then dropped down with his knees on either side of her.
His gaze softened as he looked at her with her hair almost completely free of its tethers and her cheeks flushed prettily. “You’re a sight, pet. A better man would write you poetry.”
“I want you.”
“I know,” He couldn’t quite keep the edge of sadness out of his voice. “But you deserve better.” He would have her now, he knew himself well enough to know that he wouldn’t be able to simply walk away. He wanted to taste her, to consume her, too badly.
His fingers worked quickly to unbutton her dress. He pushed the fabric to the sides of her body almost reverently and grinned as he caught sight of her black bra and panties and the matching thigh-high stockings she wore. “Pretty, kitten. Were you dressing up for me?” He knew it was absurd, but he wanted her to say that she had.
“There’s…there’s no one else.”
Spike trailed a single finger down her chest and across her stomach. “No fine upstanding boyfriend?”
“I don’t…” she gasped as he brushed his knuckles over her dampened panties. “I don’t really date.”
He arched an eyebrow at her. “Just wait to lure strange men in for their photos, then.” He watched the hurt slide across her features and wished that he hadn’t said it. Right bastard you are.
“I don’t…I haven’t slept with anyone in two years.” She whispered it and he could tell that she was embarrassed, though he wasn’t sure if that embarrassment was for her current actions or her past ones.
“Bloody crime that is; a girl like you ought to get seen to nightly.” He leaned down to brush a startling light kiss across her lips.
Leaning back on his heels, he tugged his shirts off and smiled at the lust in Buffy’s eyes. She certainly liked what she saw, no mad ramblings about his being glowy and lost forever. Bloke could get used to this
Spike slid an arm beneath her back to release the hooks of her bra and quickly tugged the garment down her arms. He pressed her arms up to rest on the pillow near her head and studied her with a look of slight awe. “Bloody hell, kitten. I take back what I said before; you are the fucking poetry.”
She was exquisite, barely larger than a child but with a woman’s form. Spike was flooded suddenly with memories of a girl he’d long since forgotten. His first love, not that he’d really known her, had been like this. She’d been pretty and petite and he’d longed to be man enough to protect her from the evils of the world. Becoming one of those evils hadn’t really wiped away his desire to be the protector of a pretty girl.
Buffy was watching him with a faint blush in her cheeks and a curious look in her eyes. He wondered if she could see his thoughts.
When she started to sit up he pressed her back down.
“Just takin’ a mental picture, luv.” He cupped her breast and dragged his thumb across her nipple, enjoying the small breathy sound of pleasure she made. “Tell me, what’s your real name? Bloke outside told me is was Buffy.” He continued caressing her breast, smirking each time he teased her hardened nipple.
“It…it is Buffy. That’s…oh!”
He leaned down to swipe her nipple with his tongue. “Buffy?” He repeated skeptically.
Fire flashed in her eyes. “And Spike is better?”
He chuckled. “Well it’s not my real name, is it? My mum gave me a proper Christian name to hate.”
Buffy sat up and gave him a playful look. “Am I supposed to guess?”
He frowned, not sure why he’d even told her that. “William. I was William.”
She nodded. “William. I like it.” She reached out to stroke the leather cuff at his wrist. “I like Spike too.”
He scoffed, but reached out to pull her into his lap. She came eagerly, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.
When she rubbed herself against the bulge in his pants, he growled. “Fuck, kitten. What are you doing to me?” He reached between them to unsnap his pants and release his cock. Reaching behind his neck, he pulled one of her hands down. “Here, luv. Want to feel those pretty little fingers on me.”
She complied with an eagerness that stunned him, tightly gripping him with her small hand and sliding it up and down his length. He threw his head back and groaned. “Bloody hell!”
He reached between her thighs and slid a finger beneath her panties. The hot moisture he found there delighted him. “So hot. Gonna burn me up, kitten.”
She giggled then, a girlish sound that he knew without asking was uncommon for her, and asked. “Is that a good thing?”
“Yeah, It’s gonna be bloody brilliant.” He tore her panties off with a single hard pull and positioned her over him. He paused then, still shocked by what he was about to do, and met her eyes. They swirled with excitement, lust and an emotion he didn’t want to consider.
Clenching his jaw, he pushed into her with a single thrust and he was surrounded. She was hot, so hot and so tight and so unlike anything he’d ever felt before. He groaned loudly. Fuck!
He wasn’t gentle, but she didn’t seem to mind. She pressed herself into his every stroke and whimpered each time he pulled away.
He focused on those sounds, her moans and whimpers and on the sound of their flesh slapping roughly against each other and blocked out the rest of the world.
She came once, nearly immediately, and he grinned as her muscles fluttered and she flooded his cock with hot fluid. That’s my girl. He didn’t slow down. He maintained an almost brutal rhythm, forcing her to come a second and third time before joining her.
Afterward he laid her limp form gently back on the blankets and watched for a second as she struggled to get enough air with quick little breaths. He could tell that she wanted to say something, but couldn’t yet.
Spike pushed her legs apart and dropped down on his hands and knees between them. Without a word, he began cleaning their juices from her thighs and mound with long, slow licks.
When she could, Buffy rose onto her elbows to watch him with a look of wonder. He looked up at her through his eyelashes and smirked. “Still think I’m beautiful?”
She laughed weakly. “Yeah, Spike.” She shook her head at his odd question. “Shockingly enough, fucking me didn’t tarnish your beauty.”
He laughed at her suddenly rough language and gave her another leisurely lick. When he heard her head hit the bed, he knew she wasn’t watching. The bones in his face shifted and his eyes flashed amber. Carefully, he pulled his fangs along the inside of her thigh, leaving two fine lines of blood in their wake.
He heard her gasp and looked up, watching uneasily as she studied his other face. Her eyes went wide, but she didn’t scream.
“So kitten,” he asked quietly, “do you still think I’m beautiful?”
He watched as a parade of emotions ran across her face and was only mildly surprised when she settled on curiosity. She’d been surprising him all night; he’d known that this would be no different. She sat up and reached out slowly to run her fingers along the ridges on his forehead.
“Your eyes are…”
Spike grabbed her shoulders roughly. “Do you still think I’m beautiful?”
She raised her eyes with a look of surprise. “Yes.”
He swallowed hard once before bringing his fangs to her neck. She didn’t even scream when he bite her.
Part Five Thursday 1:09 am
Spike stared at her pale form and reached down to toy with her honey blond curls. She was lovely and she’d wanted to be his.
He knew who was at the door even before they knocked. He rolled his eyes before striding over to answer.
“What do you want?”
“I knew that was you I caught scent of.” Angelus gave him a charming grin. “I thought you might like to join me for a bit of sport.” He inhaled suddenly and, with a small testing hand gesture, stepped though door. “Guess, you’ve already had some fun though, haven’t you chap?” He dropped his arm over the smaller man’s shoulders and gave him a quick squeeze, before heading in to investigate.
Spike sighed as Angelus walked over to Buffy’s bed. He stalked behind him and quickly scooped the girl up, wrapping her body in a sheet.
Angelus laughed hard. “You didn’t.”
Rolling his eyes again, Spike looked away.
Angelus couldn’t stop laughing as he looked back and forth between Spike and the small woman in his arms. “Dru’s gonna be pissed.” He was laughing so hard his eyes watered.
Spike’s head swung up, his eyes flashed. “Fuck Drusilla.”
Cradling his childe in his arms, Spike stalked out of the apartment with Angelus trailing close behind.
His picture lay abandoned on the cold wooden floor.
Chapter End Notes:
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