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Back Up Plan

Spike stalked angrily away from that little rat trap where all the soddin Scooby's were so bloody comfortable. Eating sandwiches and makin jokes. All the time planning on telling him that they had no intention of helping him. His bloody Slayer was just as bad. Granted she was in the same boat as him but it really brassed him off the way she had stiffened when he touched her. Perfectly innocent touch it was too. She was all wound up and he was just helping her out. As if he hadn't had his hands all over her just that morning. Bloody Bitch.

Oh and her High and Mighty fucking attitude was like fingernails on a bloody chalkboard. Telling him he couldn't feed properly. What, did she think he was going to be her pet Vamp like Peaches? Drink blood from a jar and fight the forces of evil. He was evil God Damn it. So maybe he didn't want to end the world, but he still loved Murder and Mayhem as much as the next Vamp. Did she forget who she was dealing with? Spike, Slayer of Slayers. One two many orgasms fry what's left of her brain? Okay, best not to think of orgasms and the Slayer in the same sentence, cause that just made him hard.

His Slayer was running to catch him, she tugged on his duster firmly and he spun, pulling it out of her hands. "What." He snarled at her and she flinched. If he mentioned that she had shied from him she would deny it with venom, but she did and it cooled his temper considerably. Which ought to piss him off because he was a Fucking Vampire and wanted the Slayer to fear him.

"Look Spike, I know that this majorly sucks, but you have to trust Giles. He'll work this out, he always does." She bit her lip, probably without realizing it and he felt his blood stir. It suddenly occurred to him that he had her alone. Oh they were on a public bloody street, but her Bleedin Watchdogs for friends were nowhere in sight. "It's just for a little while, probably a few days at most." He began to snake towards her and she stepped back a bit. She took another step back and he pressed himself alongside her body, shoving her against the rough wood of some building or other.

Her eyes flashed up at him. "Besides, you've got it easy. Just spend a few days in the basement. I've got to explain this to my mom." She gave him a halfhearted smile. She was just as compelled to soothe him as he was to soothe her. That was comforting. But she was a child; she knew nothing of the world. His great love hung in the balance. His dark princess, his Drusilla. The worst part of it was, even with thoughts of her dark eyes and hair swirling at the edge of his consciousness, he was consumed with the Slayer. This slip of a girl, with her wide eyes and strong hands. The power in her blood sung to him, her scent intoxicated him. Standing this close to her, she surrounded him. His other cares and worries, the rest of the flaming world, bled to grays and blacks. She was Technicolor.

Her bottom lip pouted a bit, just begging for him. So he buried one hand in her soft gold locks and kissed her hard. She overwhelmed him. The way she tasted, how surprisingly soft her lips were. The way she focused all that Slayer power and energy on him. It was like a kick to the gut. Swift and crushing, she kissed with everything she had and he was drunk on her power. He swept his tongue along the roof of her mouth and she moaned deep in her throat. She clutched his leather and pulled him flush against her. He rocked his hips against hers and let his own groan out when she rocked back.

He'd been hot for her all day; his hand had done little to relieve his lust. All sweet smelling and delicious, on top of him in the car. He had wanted her to come back to him, to admit to herself she wanted him. Instead she had run away, flashing him with sunlight. Leaving him all bollixed up. Bitch. He had simmered all day and now he was on fire. He had to have her now. He about came in her hand when she fumbled with his zipper and pulled him out. She ran her smooth little hand down his length and he growled at her. She smiled, letting go of his lips, looking into his eyes with a boldness he hadn't thought she possessed. He shoved her skirt up over her hips, hiked her legs around his hips, pushed her panties to the side and buried himself to the hilt before the rumble in his chest died out.

Her eyes went wide with surprise, then she blew his mind and rotated her hips. God she was hot. He rolled against her, creating hot sweet friction. The burn of his zipper added to his pleasure and he bent his head to her neck, nipping and sucking. She met him thrust for thrust. She arched into the wall and pushed herself against him more firmly and he began to cuss. He knew he was babbling, about how fucking hot she was, how much he wanted her, how good she felt. He didn't care. He just wanted to taste her, and fuck her, and crush her to him. She was like a ferocious storm, thunder and lightning and pelting rain. He was just a little one man boat swept up in her fury. Fuck this was heaven. His body spiraled out of his control, his climax was building. He pulled back to look at her and was awed for a moment. She met his eyes, clutched his leather, and fell over the edge. Her tight little muscles worked him over, his name was on her lips, and he came hard with her.

"Jesus Bloody Christ Buffy." He whispered into her hair. He held her for a moment longer, getting his bearings, letting the world sway to a stop. Then he pulled his softening cock out of her and slid her down his body. She leaned up against the wall, breathing hard and watching him with a guarded expression. He tucked himself away and zipped. Then he smoothed down her dress where it was still riding up. She blushed. She seemed of a sudden to recall where they were and glanced anxiously up and down the street. "Relax Slayer, streets dead. Besides this coat covers a lot."

"I have to patrol." She snarled at him, pushing past him violently and stalking down the street like a spooked cat. He shrugged and followed her. Patrolling was a disastrous idea. One, someone was going to see them. By tomorrow night everyone would know he was shagging the Slayer senseless and had claimed her for his own. Two, the bloody bitch could get hurt. Lots of nasties out there. But she probably wouldn't want to hear that so he just stretched out his legs till he was along side her and they walked in silence.

Spike wondered idly, how long it would take for the news to travel to LA. Peaches thought he had outdone him in Slayer action. Saying anyone could kill a Slayer but he had made one fall in love with him. Bloody poof was going to think he had mated her just to top that. He would come to challenge him; there was no doubt about that. A part of Spike jumped in excitement, ready for the fight.

He glanced sidelong at his girl. She was walking along swiftly, obviously determined to ignore him. He could smell himself all over her and he tried to dampen the possessiveness that rolled through him. He couldn't see his mark, because her hair was in the way. He was beginning to realize that he could easily become obsessed with that hair. Golden strands bouncing all around her. Smelling of honey and Buffy. It was like the sunlight he would never see again. Her own golden glow.

They cut across the street and entered the first cemetery. She pulled a stake out of nowhere and twirled it expertly. Where the bloody hell was that thing? He had just had her pressed up against the wall, fucking her bloody brains out and she had a stake stashed somewhere on her bleedin' body? He shivered. Shouldn't allow himself to forget just how dangerous this little slip of a girl really was. The insane thing was, it made him want her again.

"So, how long do you wonder around at night?" He asked, breaking the silence. He never was good at keeping quiet.

"I don't wander around." She snapped. "I slay, until I'm tired."

"Right then, Slay." He said gesturing to two vamps coming up quick to the left. Buffy spun and dropped into fighting stance. But the Vamps didn't attack. They just stood there, kind of in shock. Spike hiked himself up onto a massive tombstone and lit a smoke. "You planning on dusting those blokes anytime soon Slayer, We don't have all night."

"Spike?" One of the vampires asked, incredulity written all over him.

""Bryan, Jenkins," He replied, nodding at each of the vamps.

"Wait," Buffy spun back to him. "You know these guys?"

"Lived on the Hellmouth off and on for about three years now Slayer, know quite a few baddies."

Buffy rolled her eyes expressively and opened her mouth to speak, but she was rudely interrupted by Jenkins. "So you've mated the Slayer, How the fuck did that happen?"

"Would you just end them pet? They're getting on my bleedin' last nerve." She blurred into motion. Kicking one vamp in the jaw than spinning to land her fist in the eye of the other. She leapt over both of them to place them both on the same side of her. She came at them like a windmill, kicking and punching. They never had a chance. Three minutes passed in a flurry of motion and then a shower of dust. She was amazing. She was magnificent. She was poetry. And he was a stupid sod for thinking so.

"Don't tell me what to do." She snapped, waving her hand in front of her face, delicately, to diffuse the dust. Dainty little thing for a Slayer. Behead beasties, make with the kung-fu, paint her toenails, Shag him crazy, bubble bath with candle light, probably just a normal day for her.

Three Cemetery's, Four Fledglings, An older Vamp in Armani, and a Gerenuk demon later; his slayer was beginning to get brassed off. She twisted to face him and snatched his cigarette right out of his hand. She tossed it to the ground. "Perfectly good fag you ruined there luv."

"Don't call me that." She snarled. "What, are you practicing to be a lump? Because that's about as useful as you've been to me tonight." She switched stances, arms crossing over her chest. "I mean really, why did you come if your just gonna stand around and make snarky comments while I do all the work?"

He fought the urge to smile at her little bout of temper. That would really brass her off. "I'm Plan B." He replied. She snarled again and he found himself thinking that she was quite lovely when she was mad. Her cheeks were all rosy and her eyes shone with inner fire. He was thinking to kiss her again, maybe convince her to take him home and have her wicked way with him when he caught a metallic scent on the air and a flash of crimson motion out of the corner of his eye. He shoved his slayer out of the way just as four inch claws ripped through her space. He wasn't sure what kind of demon this was but it was stealthy and fast. It twisted and attacked him immediately.

Spike leapt back and rolled out of the way. The damn thing was quick as lighting. It pounced at him, jumping at least nine feet and Spike barely dodged again. His Slayer homed in behind it brandishing a tree branch of all things. She rammed it into its neck hard. The thing let out a screech fit for a vampiric owl and shifted its focus to Buffy. She leapt out of its way and Spike latched onto one of its four hind legs, twisting with all his strength. Again it swerved back towards him, howling in rage and pain. Apparently having a gaping wound in its neck and a shattered leg didn't slow the bloody thing down. The thing managed to grasp him with one of those bloody horrific forearms and Spike hissed as claws sharp as knives sliced into his arm. He grabbed the appendage and ripped it clean off, twisting it around to strike out at its eyes with its own claws.

The thing reared back too quick to do any real damage but Spike did manage to leave four bloody gashes on the demons hideous pink face. His slayer grasped his uninjured arm and swung out with her feet. He realized she was using him for leverage and he twisted his body to add to her speed. Both her little booted feet connected hard with the creature's fat neck, making a very satisfying crushing noise. He swung her from harms way. They spun together, in perfect sync, the demon was wobbling on his feet and he boosted his slayer in the air. She landed on the demons back, wrapped her little arms around its neck and wretched. It dropped like a stone and Buffy stepped nimbly to the ground.

"What was that thing?" She asked him and he shook his head, looking her over critically. She didn't appear to be injured. She moved into his space and touched his damaged arm gently. It hurt, but not that bad. She would know this; she would be able to feel it. "Bring that arm; those claws might have been poisonous." She raised her hand to his face and cupped it gently, leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed him. Just a soft brush of her candy lips against his before she turned and began walking. Would wonders never cease? A kiss freely given. He followed her.








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