Title: Crushes...As In Plural
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS
characters belong to me.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Rating: NC-17

Summary: Time to rewrite 'Crush' to suit
myself and others, so obviously it's not
according to canon. Canon, shmannon...you
want to have some fun, or not?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Part one...


**Please, don't let anything have happened to her. Glory..it
can't be Glory...she doesn't know...help me...please, I need
help...I need....**

Buffy's internal monologue ran out of steam as she shoved
open the door of Spike's crypt and saw her missing sister
sitting with him. Cross legged...on a coffin...facing each
other.

**What the....?**

Spike muttered his standard "Bloody hell," as he
climbed down off the coffin.

Buffy was literally feeling pole axed. The last thing she'd
expected to see here was her sister.

She'd come on the run to find Spike, not bothering to ask
herself why he was the first one she'd come to for help. All
the way over here, she had tried to repress the memory of
their last encounter in the Bronze.

Thinking about it too much made her cringe slightly
at the rude way she'd treated him after he'd dropped
everything to help her find Dawn. It hadn't been his fault that
Glory had knocked him flying; more so it had been hers since
she hadn't warned him what he was going up against.

When she had told her mother about it, Joyce had looked
at her with a disapproving expression and some disappointment
in her eyes. She had informed Buffy that she should be highly
ashamed of her behavior, stressing the fact that she had not
brought her up to believe that it was perfectly all right to be
nasty to someone who had been kind enough to help her,
at the very real risk of their own safety.

Her mother's words had brought a hot flush of shame into
her cheeks.

For some reason, Joyce had always had a soft spot for
Spike. Starting during their tete-a-tete over cocoa in the
kitchen, it had never really been wiped out completely,
even after the subsequent events were long over with.

She certainly preferred him to Angel, having made no
secret of the fact that she'd not been able to warm up to him
after he had returned from the hell Buffy had sent him to on
the point of her sword, soul or no soul.

Buffy had planned to apologize when she had an
opportunity, which apparently she was now about to have.

But seeing her sister here irritated her out of all pro-
portion to the offense. The cozy little tableau was pissing
her off, and she wasn't sure why.

She knew Spike couldn't hurt Dawn. Moreover, she was
fairly sure that he WOULDN'T hurt her, even if given a
chance to do so.

Still, since when had they become so...chummy...with
each other?

Dawn rolled her eyes and spoke up. "Spike was just telling
me this story and he was just at this really cool part..."

Buffy wasn't much interested in what Dawn had to say.
Pinning Spike with an angry glare, she asked, "What the
hell is this? What is she doing here?"

Dawn answered. "Just hanging out."

The slayer turned her gaze on her sister. "Here?"

The girl sighed. "Can you please just let him finish the
story and then do the lecture?"

Buffy's scowl deepened and she rounded on Spike
again. "Yeah. Okay. Let's hear the story that Spike is
telling my little sister," she demanded, pleased when
she saw that she'd really rattled his cage.

"Right. Yeah," he stammered. His eyes skipped
back and forth between the two girls. "So, uh...I knew
the girl was in the coal bin. So I rip it open...very violent,
haul her out of there..."

Buffy folded her arms across her chest and arched one
eyebrow.

"...and I gave her to a good family in a nice home where
they're never mean to her and didn't lock her in the coal bin,"
he finished with a shrug.

"What?" Dawn said, her voice tinged with disbelief. "That's
so lame."

Spike ignored the comment and looked at Buffy. "I was
just about to send her home," he explained. "I knew you'd
be frettin'."

The way he looked at her, his tentative tone, brought back
the memory of her disgrace at the Bronze.

Well, no way was she going to apologize now!

"Dawn, get your stuff," she ordered curtly. "We're out
of here."

Turning her back to avoid his eyes, she hustled her sister
out the door of the crypt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


The girls bickered as they walked home.

"Why doesn't it register with you?" Buffy asked. "Crypt plus
vampire equals bad!"

Most of the time.

"Cause it's Spike," Dawn replied, feeling her comment should
clinch the argument.

Buffy stopped and stared at the girl. "Hanging out with Spike is
not cool, Dawn, okay? It's...it's dangerous...and...icky."

Dawn smiled, a little shyly. "I don't think Spike's icky."

"Well, think again, sister." She noticed the little smile on
Dawn's lips and put her hands on her hips, shocked at the
sudden epiphany. "You have a crush on him!" she accused.

Her sister immediately denied it. "No, I don't. It's just..." She
giggled in a way that made Buffy want to smack her. "..he's
got cool hair and he wears cool leather coats and stuff." The
smile dropped away. "And he doesn't treat me like an alien."

Buffy's jaw sagged. Was that really what Dawn believed?
That she and the others treated her like something from outer
space? So much so that she had to go to Spike for
acceptance?

Wanting to avoid that particular subject, Buffy went back on
the attack. "He's a killer, Dawn," she said, as though the
girl hadn't a brain in her head. "You cannot have a crush on
something that is...dead, and...and evil. AND a vampire!"

Dawn gave Buffy a look that said 'Oh, really?' "That's why
you were never with Angel for three years."

That comment took all the righteous wind out of Buffy's
sails.

"Angel's different," she countered. "He has a soul." **Most
of the time...**

Dawn didn't see it that way at all. "Spike's got a chip," she
shrugged. "Same diff."

Turning away for a moment to gather her control, Buffy made
an angry gesture. "I can't listen to this." It was her standard
response to anything she didn't want to hear or acknowledge.
"Spike is a monster, okay? And plus, you are only fourteen
years old!"

She didn't know WHAT that had to do with anything.

"I like hanging out with him is all," Dawn insisted. "And
even if I did have a crush, he wouldn't notice in a million
years. Not with YOU around."

Buffy frowned. "What does THAT mean?"

Dawn looked at her like she was the stupidest, least self-
aware person on earth. "Spike's totally into you."

The slayer couldn't think of what to say to such a
surprising announcement.

Dawn laughed a little at her sister's stunned face. "Oh,
come on," she said. "You didn't notice? Buffy...Spike is
totally in love with you."

Just when Buffy thought she was no longer capable of
being surprised, she got knocked ass-over-teakettle.

"Huh?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Xander?"

"What?"

Buffy started to speak, then stopped. "Never mind."

They looked around the train car they were checking for
possible vamp activity.

Although she was there in flesh and spirit, her mind was
off in left field picking daisies.

She forced herself to try again. If she didn't bounce Dawn's
little revelation off of someone, she'd go stark staring mad.

"It's just that...Dawn...she said that..."

"Yeah?" Xander prompted.

Her nerve deserted her once again. "Forget it," she mumbled,
walking off again.

"Buffy!" he persisted, his curiosity aroused.

She stared at her feet. "She thinks that...she said that.."

Her friend nodded, waiting.

"Spike's in love with me."

It was finally out, and not a moment too soon.

Xander stared at her for half a beat, then burst out
laughing.

"I'm not joking," she said flatly.

Still laughing like a hyena, Xander put up one hand
and said, "I hope not. It's funnier if it's true."

Buffy was getting aggravated by his hilarity at her
admission. It wasn't THAT damn funny to think that
Spike might have an interest in her. "I'm serious! Xander!
This is serious!"

He tried to get himself under control, waving one hand
around. "Seriously," he finally said, composing his face.

He was silent for a whole ten seconds, then laughter
once again exploded out of him.

Wanting to give him a good crack across the face, Buffy
turned away and flopped down into one of the seats,
outlined by the yellow tape that marked the position of a
corpse found sitting in it.

"It's creepy," was all she could think to say.

Xander pulled himself together. "No...not creepy," he
denied. "Cause it's not real. I mean, how upset can you
really get over one of Spike's fevered daydreams?"

His opinion that Spike must be sick in the head to
feel something for her was slightly insulting, but she
made herself look past it. "I guess."

"So, where did Dawn...how did she come to this...ex-
tremely entertaining conclusion?"

Wishing he would drop the subject before she got
really pissed off, Buffy stood up. "She was hanging out
with Spike," she said, walking past him towards the
rear of the train car. "I think she has a crush on him."

Xander looked at her, dismayed, all the amusement
draining out of him. "What?"

Not even noticing his expression, she went on. "I
mean...I always knew that he had this...weird fixation
with me...."

He was no longer part of the immediate conversation. "I'M
the one she has the crush on," he protested. "ME!"

Still paying him no attention, Buffy sighed. "There's
nothing here, " she said, turning to leave. "Let's go."

Even in the face of Buffy's apparent lack of interest,
Xander couldn't let it go. "It's always been me," he
insisted. "Big, funny Xander. Oh, what?...she just
suddenly decides I'm the not the cool one anymore?"

Those words brought Buffy back reality. **The cool
one? When was that YOU? **


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy closed the front door and leaned back against
it. She was still trying desperately to process all the
new weirdness that was her life, and decide which part
to tackle first.

No way could Dawn be right. There wasn't a snowball's
chance in the Hellmouth.

The roles she and Spike played in their little melodrama
were very clearly defined, leaving absolutely no room for
interpretation.

Slayer...vampire...hatred. Period. Simple and clean cut,
and concise, something you could count on in a world
where you couldn't count on much.

As it is...so it always has been...so it always will
be...say 'amen' sister.

Dawn was clearly wrong.

**But...what if she's not? What do I do then?**

Well, what COULD she do? Spike wasn't exactly the
easily discouraged type of a guy. You only had to look
back on his track record in Sunnydale to learn that
lesson.

When he had something in mind, it was like trying to
pull the jaws of a pit bull open to make him see sense.

And no one knew it better than she did.

How many times had she almost finished him off? And
how many times had he come back looking for more?

That 'never say die' attitude had caused him to make some
spectacularly bad choices. He'd gotten clean away more
times than she could remember, and then, like clockwork,
he'd show up and they'd start the play...the dance...all
over again.

The dance...

**You know you want to dance, Slayer...**

Dark eyes staring down intently into hers. Looking up
with her own eyes wide. His aborted attempt to kiss
her...twice.

**No. No, no, no, and no again. Not possible. Not
happening. Out, out, out! Out of my head right
now!**

She was about to go upstairs and hide under her bed
when the sound of her mother's voice drew her to the
kitchen instead.

"But what they didn't get was that it was a copy of
the bill of lading."

Buffy walked in on another disturbingly cozy scene.
The hood light over the stove was on, casting the kitchen
into shadow.

Her mother was leaning on the counter. Dawn
was on the other side, smiling hugely.

And then there was Spike. Sitting on the opposite counter,
listening and chuckling.

"So," Joyce said. "They thought it was another order
form. So now I've got two shipments of Greek amphorae
on my hands." She giggled, a sound that Buffy had never
heard come out of her mother...a girlish sound.

God! What the hell was it with this vampire!? How did
he charm her family so easily? Why?

Spike chuckled softly. "That's funny. And really, how many
do you need, amphorae?"

Folding her arms to hide her tightly clenched fists,
Buffy walked into the kitchen. All three occupants looked
up at her arrival.

"Oh, Buffy," Joyce said cheerily. "Spike came by to
apologize for yesterday. Our missing child drama."

The slayer frowned. Since when did Spike apologize
for anything?

"And he just decided to...hang out for a while?" she
guessed acidly.

"Oh, well," Joyce made a dismissive gesture. "I got
talking about the gallery. See, there was this..."

"Don't get us all laughing again, Joyce," Spike cut
her off. "Anyhow, I really need to talk to your eldest."

Buffy's hackles rose. "About what?"

Instead of answering her, Spike jumped down from his
seat on the counter and walked past her into the hallway. "I
got a bit of info you might be keen on knowing," he said,
turning to face her.

"Sorry," she replied snidely. "All out of cash. Why don't
you go hit on Giles...HIT UP Giles?" she added quickly.

Spike sighed. "Did I ask? Look, I got a bead on the
guy who killed those people. The ones on the train."

Buffy tilted her head. "Do tell."

"I'll do better than that," he said. "I'll show. Grab
your coat and your pointy sticks."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She stood inside the broken down building, hands on
her hips as she watched two vampires run like their
tails were on fire.

"Should we chase after them?" Spike suggested. "They
couldn't have gone too far."

Buffy was far too irritated to do anything of the kind.

"These vamps have been here for a while," she said, looking
around the room. They've nested."

He visibly tried to hold back a smile. "So, you're
saying they're a couple of poofters?"

She gave him an appraising look. "No. I'm saying that
they had nothing to do with last nights murders."

"How do you figure?"

"Whoever did it only arrived in town last night," she
snapped. "Looks like you've wasted my time."

Turning to leave, she started with surprise as Spike
grabbed the door and pulled it open for her.

"WHAT are you doing?" she asked.

Spike tried to backpedal. "I...I was...I wasn't thinking,"
he scoffed.

She wasn't in the slightest bit convinced. "What is
this? The late night stake-out? The bogus suspects?
The flask?"

Spike arched his brows but said nothing.

"Is...is this a date?"

"A date? Please! You are completely off your bird!" He
lowered his voice. "Do you want it to be?"

She released a soft groan. "Oh, my God."

Spike bit his lip, watching her carefully.

"Are you out of your mind?" she wanted to know.

He shrugged, pacing slowly towards her. "It's not so
unusual," he said. "Two people...in the workplace..feel-
ings develop."

Buffy held up her hands, as if to ward him off. "No.
No," she said firmly. "Feelings do NOT develop! No
feelings!"

For someone with no feelings, she was awfully
agitated.

"You can't deny it," Spike continued. "There's some-
thing between us."

Oh, she could damn well SO deny it!

"Loathing," she pointed out. "Disgust."

Spike just shook his head. "Heat. Desire."

Desperately grasping for any handhold she could
find, she fell back on the obvious. "Please! Spike,
you're a vampire!"

"Angel was a vampire," he said promptly, expecting
the comment.

"Angel was good!" **Usually...**

"And I can be, too. I've changed, Buffy."

**No! You are NOT allowed to change! You cannot
throw yet another monkey wrench into my life!**

"What, that chip?" she asked wildly. "That's not change.
That's just holding you back. You're like a serial killer
in prison!"

"Women marry them all the time!" he burst out.

It was such an impulsive statement that she nearly laughed. In-
stead she said, "ugh!" and turned away.

Apparently, Spike realized that she hadn't meant it the way it
had sounded and he hurried to cover. "But I'm not...like that. Some-
thing's happening to me. I can't stop thinking about you. And if that
means turning my back on the whole evil thing, then...."

She whipped around, cutting him off. "You don't know you mean!
You don't know what feelings are!" She said it, although she really
didn't completely believe it.

He was offended now. "I damn well do! I lie awake every night..."

"You sleep during the day!"

"Yeah, but..." He clenched his teeth. "You are missing the point. This
is real here." He paused, gathering his nerve. "I love..."

"Don't!" she yelped, holding up one hand. She couldn't hear
that...didn't want to hear it. "Just...don't say it."

Spike just stared at her, his heart in his eyes. Buffy couldn't
bear it.

"I'm going," she said quietly, heading for the door.

"Oh, come on...we need to talk."

Oh, no they didn't! Not about this. Not ever about this.

"We don't need to do anything," she said doggedly. "There is no
'we'. Understand?"

She turned to run, and the last thing she heard was Spike
calling her name.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


It was almost midnight when Buffy climbed out her
bedroom window and headed for the cemetery.

She'd spent the better part of the last hour tossing around
in her bed, unable to settle down for the night, and not
even sure why she couldn't seem to manage it.

Staring at the ceiling, her confrontation with Spike ran
through her head over and over again.

In love...with her! Spike was in love with her!

Oh, but not really. Spike couldn't really be in love with
her because...well, vampires don't feel love. They
couldn't...not without a soul.

So, how did that explain Spike's devotion to Miss Loony
Tunes for over a hundred years? It was love. It must have
been. What else would have kept him glued to that nut-
ball's side for so long?

No, he'd loved her all right. Buffy had no doubt of that. It
was the reason he'd been so frantic to cure her when she'd
been ill, so eager to forge an alliance with someone he hated,
so devastated when she'd left him.

Of course, this was different. Dru was another vampire. She
was a slayer. Maybe that was the denial road she should be
traveling. Not that he can't love, but that he can't love a slayer.

She knew that such devotion was a rare thing in a creature
of Spike's nature, but she had no interest in it...no matter how
good looking he happened to be...how....

Wait a second! What did his looks have to do with it?

Nothing.

Well, she wasn't blind. She'd known from the start
that he was a hottie of considerable magnitude. It wasn't
the sort of thing you could overlook. I mean...it was just there...in
your face.

What a face....

Groaning, she'd rolled over in bed and sat up. She had to get
this nonsense cleared up once and for all. Spike was going
to have to learn that she would never...NEVER...be interested
in him 'that way', and that if he wanted to remain part of her
inner circle, he'd best learn to accept it.

Yes. That's what she would tell him. Calmly and precisely.

And now.....

TBC.....
I love feedback!

Summary: Time to rewrite 'Crush' to suit
myself and others, so obviously it's not
according to canon. Canon, shmannon...you
want to have some fun, or not?

AN: I'll be borrowing heavily from the script/
episode...up to a point. I needed to use it in the
first chapter to establish that THIS Buffy is going
to be acting and reacting in a vastly different
way from that other...not so pleasant...Buffy.
I can't just "say what happened" and move on. How
will people know what she's feeling and thinking in
this story if I do that?
**********************************************

Part two....


"Spike? Are you here?"

She'd been yelling his name for five minutes. It was
pretty obvious that he wasn't here.

So how come she wasn't turning around and heading for
home? This wasn't so important that it couldn't wait until
tomorrow.

But she'd never been here before without him being here,
too. The temptation to snoop was just too powerful to resist.

Wandering around the silent room, her hands brushed over
the odd collection of his possessions that were mixed in with
the trappings of a crypt. The cold marble of the sarcophagus
and the figurines, a couple of vases meant to hold large arrange-
ments of flowers but sitting empty for years, a small bench for
mourners to come in and sit down on while visiting their dearly
departed...also unused for who knew how long before the current
occupant moved in.

From there, she moved towards the more modern half of the
place. An old, but comfortable looking arm chair sat about ten
feet away from a 19 inch television with a VCR sitting next to it
on a low table. There was a box on the floor next to the chair,
a box that contained about 25 or so videotapes.

She flipped through them curiously. Old movies, a lot of gross out
horror flicks, one or two "adult" oriented titles that sounded very
offensive. Just for the interest of seeing exactly what kind of a
pervert Spike really was, she popped one of them into the VCR
and turned on the television.

After exactly thirty seconds, she ejected the tape, blushing
furiously. She'd never seen a pornographic movie before, and
wasn't sure she ever wanted to again. It was...unsettling.

Attempting to place the tape back in the same position in the
box, she spotted another one with a white label on the front. In
neat printing, someone had inscribed the word 'Slayer' on it.

Frowning, she pushed the tape into the VCR and hit the play
button....then nearly died of shock when she saw what had been
immortalized on video.

It was herself, fighting a vampire in a....pumpkin patch?

Her memory clicked and whirred, sorting quickly through the
hundreds of vamps she'd dusted over the years, before zeroing
in on this particular one.

Halloween. The first Halloween after Spike's arrival in Sunnydale.

Before all the hilarity that had ensued on All Hallow's Eve, she had
gotten into it with a vampire in a pumpkin patch...the kind that
popped up all over town in mid-October. Bales of hay, scarecrows,
mounds of bright orange globes all over the place, and wooden signs
with nice, sharp points on them...perfect for slaying a member of the
undead brigade.

Had he been there? Filming her?

It certainly looked that way. But why? Why on earth would he
videotape her staking a vamp? What, had this been some close
friend of his or something? Spike didn't really strike her as the
sentimental type who would want such a keepsake.

No, there had to be another reason for it, and the reason was
probably her.

"So what do you do, Spike? Sit here and watch this tape over
and over again?"

A thought began nibbling on the outskirts of her consciousness,
one that wouldn't go away and leave her alone. What exactly did
he do while watching this tape? Maybe...the same sort of thing
other guys do while watching porn.

She couldn't decide whether she was revolted or intrigued
by the idea.

The flickered off, startling her when the screen went
snowy. She ejected it and placed it back in the box where she'd
found it, vowing to think about it...some other time.

Turning off the television, she began wandering around the
room again. There was a small bookshelf with a surprising
number of books on it that looked as though they'd been read
many times. She examined the spines...Dickens...Edgar Allen
Poe...Proust...Stevenson...Voltaire...Emerson...Bronte. A lot
of stuff that would put her to sleep five pages into it.

Obviously, there was more to Spike than she'd first imagined. He
always seemed so antsy, it surprised her to find out that he was
a reader.

Buffy straightened up and dusted off the knees of her jeans.

She was about to see if there was anything in the refrigerator
for people to drink when her eye was caught by something she'd
never noticed before.

A trap door. The kind of thing that usually led down to a
dungeon or a secret passageway...in movies, anyway.

Crouching down beside it, she pushed it out of the way and
peered down into a dark hole. "Spike?" she called, just to be
safe.

When there was no answer, she shrugged and descended the
ladder.

***************************************


With her feet firmly on the ground, she turned in a circle to
check out her surroundings.

Some kind of underground cave, it looked like. A torch burned
brightly in a sconce on the wall, casting eerie shadows. There
were a few caskets laying about with their lids open, a pile of
human skulls in one corner. Yech!

One far wall had a sheet draped in front of it. With a definite
feeling of foreboding, Buffy approached it. She wasn't at all sure
she wanted to know what was hidden behind curtain number one,
but she'd come this far....

"Oh....oh, my God...."

Her eyes were as round as half dollars as they traveled over the
little display she had unveiled. There was a mannequin...the sort
of thing you found in a department store...with long, messy blond
hair, and...wearing ONE OF HER SWEATERS!

Was this...thing...supposed to be her?

On the wall behind it was a small table holding a collection of
photographs...all of her. More pictures were mounted on the rock
wall somehow...and there were drawings as well. Sketches of her
that were remarkably good. Was Spike the artist?

Hmmm. Another facet of this increasingly complex pain in her
backside to consider.

Weird tingles were chasing up and down her spine. They were
the kind of thing she usually took as a warning to get moving away
from wherever she was.

Deciding to take their advice, she headed up the ladder.

Only a supreme effort of will kept her from yelping out loud
when she reached the top.

"See anything interesting?" Spike drawled.

Oh, great. Just perfect.

Trying to somehow brazen it out, she climbed all the way out of
the hole. "Spike, I...uh..." He advanced as she retreated. "What
happened?"

"Me," a voice to one side said softly. A voice Buffy knew quite
well.

Before she could even think up a reply, Drusilla extended her
arm. **What the hell is that?** was on the tip of her tongue when
the metal rod the vampire was holding out touched her and she
felt a jolt of electricity surge through her body, weakening her.

She hit the floor with a thud, staring up with confused eyes.

Spike grinned down at her. "You remember my ex, don't you,
Slayer?" he asked, sliding one arm around Drusilla's skinny
shoulders. "Come back, she did. Couldn't live without me."

Even the knowledge that she was probably in pretty
serious trouble at this point couldn't keep one thought from
pushing to the forefront of Buffy's mind. **So much for 'I love
you, Buffy...this is real, Buffy...I dream of you, Buffy...Heat and
desire, Buffy'....yeah, right**

Drusilla cocked her head to one side. "My boy's been feeding
again. But I know what he really wants to eat."

With a sly smile, she zapped Buffy once again. This time, the
slayer couldn't fight off the effect and she slumped into unconscious-
ness.


***********************************************

Awareness returned slowly. First there was sound, muffled
and fuzzy. Two voices. One female that sounded highly pissed
off. The second voice was male. Calm and indifferent sounding.
Not really responding to the female.

Forcing her eyelids apart, Buffy tried to focus on her surroundings.

Rock walls....cold....echoey....cave like....this isn't good.

Mellow light jumped out from the torches burning on the walls,
painting the room in a weirdly romantic glow.

Her arms were aching, and it wasn't long before she knew
why. Someone had chained her in an archway. Her hands were
manacled at about shoulder height, and she'd been leaning her
unconscious body's weight on them.

Straightening her legs as best she could, she lifted her head.

"There she is," Spike murmured softly, moving into her line of
vision. "I was beginning to think you'd sleep the night away."

Buffy tugged at the chains, but they were bolted tight. Something
lingered in her mind, something needed to be remembered...oh,
yeah. Of course.

"Dru....Drusilla?" she mumbled thickly.

With a slight smile, Spike arched his eyebrows for an instant, then
stepped back to show Buffy what he had done.

Drusilla was tied to a pillar, her hands roped securely behind her as
she stared at Spike with blank eyes. "Not nice to change the game in
mid-play, Spike. You've taken my chair...and the music hasn't stopped."

He shrugged. "Sorry, Pet. My house, my rules."

She shook her head. "I think I shall be very cross with you when I'm
free again."

Buffy had just about had enough. Her head was clearing up and she
looked at Spike expectantly. "What's going on?"

He returned her gaze. "Simple. I'm gonna prove something." Step-
ping a little closer, he held her eyes with his. "I love you," he added
softly.

**No, you don't!** she wanted to scream at him. **People who love
don't tie each other up....well, sometimes they do, but NOT like this!**

Not wanting to say any of that, she made a face and muttered "Oh,
my God."

Spike grabbed her chin and forced her to see him. "No! Look at me!
I love you. You're all I bloody think about...dream about. You're in my
gut...my throat...I'm drowning in you, Summers. I'm drowning in you."

His sincerity was impressive. If this was an act, he was a damn good
performer. It was the most serious declaration of love she'd ever heard
from a man.

Irritatingly, Drusilla began laughing in the background.

Spike sighed and turned towards her. "I can do without the laugh track,
Dru."

**Me, too,** Buffy thought.

"But it's so funny," the dark haired vamp said airily, staring at nothing. "I
knew...before you did. I knew you loved the Slayer."

Disregarding her ramblings, Spike turned back to Buffy. "You can't
tell me that there isn't anything there between you and me. I know you
feel something."

Maybe. But there was no way in hell she was going to admit it now.

"It's called revulsion," she stated firmly. "And whatever you think you're
feeling, it's not love. You can't love without a soul."

"Oh, we can you know," Drusilla interjected. "We can love quite well. If
not wisely."

"You still don't believe," Spike said. "You still don't think I mean it. You
want proof? How's this?" Walking over to the table, he grabbed one of
the stakes and aimed it at Drusilla's heart. Looking over at Buffy, he said,
"I'm gonna kill Drusilla for you."

The vampiress in question burst out laughing again, as though it was
all a great game.

Although she wanted badly to see it happen, Buffy just shrugged. "That
doesn't prove anything."

He frowned. "Don't mock this."

"Go mock yourself," she retorted, turning her nose up at him.

She wished she could figure out what exactly was going through her
own head at the moment. She should be screaming, threatening him
with all manner of horrible fates, struggling to free herself even if she
had to break her own wrists to do it.

Instead, she was just standing here, listening calmly to Spike's
peculiar courting ritual.

But now he looked pissed.

"This is Drusilla, girl! You have the slightest idea what she
means to me? It's the face of my salvation." Looking at Dru, he
smiled slightly. "She delivered me from mediocrity. For over a century
we cut a swath through continents. In a hundred years...she never
stopped surprising me."

He cupped his hand around the side of Drusilla's face in a tender
gesture that had her leaning into it. "Never stopped taking me to new
depths. I was a lucky bloke, just to touch such a black beauty."

Buffy rolled her eyes impatiently. Did she need to hear this?

Dru smiled at Spike's statement. "Awww," she murmured. Then
Spike raised the stake and dug it's point into her flesh, changing
her tune to, "Owww."

"So you see," Spike continued, looking over at Buffy. "It means
something."

Yes, indeed it did. Buffy knew that this was no empty gesture
for Spike. Maybe he....

*NO! No, no, no!** She shook off the thought before it could
take root. "Not to me it doesn't," she announced chattily. "Go
ahead and kill her. Why do I care?"

Spike arched his brow in surprise at her comment, pushing his
tongue briefly against the inside of his front teeth. "Here's why,"
he informed her. "If you don't admit that there's something
there...some tiny feeling for me...then I'll untie Dru and let her
kill you instead."

"Oh, yes, please," Dru chimed in. "I like that game much better."

Spike sighed, approaching Buffy slowly. "Just give me something,"
he pleaded. "A crumb...the barest smidgen. Tell me...maybe...some-
day...there's a chance."

Buffy tilted her head, coaxing him closer. "Any chance you might
EVER have had with me has been shot to hell by this little stunt. Did
you really think that shocking me with a cattle prod...and by
the way, where the hell did you get a cattle prod?...chaining me up,
and threatening to kill me if I don't tell you what you want to hear
is romantic?"

He rolled his eyes in frustration. "Look, I'm sorry about the cattle
prod and chains, luv, but I couldn't think of any other way to get you
to stand still and listen to me."

"Well you sure picked a piss poor way of doing it," she snapped.

Spike opened his mouth to reply, then stiffened and hit the floor.

Buffy's jaw dropped. There was an arrow protruding from the center
of his back, mere inches away from his heart. Before she could
process what had happened and say something, Harmony
strolled into the small chamber.

"And what about me, Spike?" she inquired. "The ACTUAL girl-
friend?"

"Oh, great," he muttered, trying to stand.

"I gave you the best...bunch of months of my life," she said,
walloping him across the back of his head with her crossbow.

"That's right little girl," Dru murmured encouragingly. "Teach
our naughty boy a lesson."

"Harmony is your girlfriend?" Buffy broke in. "HARMONY?!"

"I thought I could change you, Spike," Harmony went on,
calmly reloading the crossbow. "I thought maybe if I gave and
gave and gave...maybe you'd come around. Maybe be a little
nicer. Stop treating me like your dog. But now I see it's you.
You're the dog. Who needs to be put..."

She turned slightly away from him, giving Spike the opportunity
to rush her. Grabbing the crossbow, he smashed her across
the face with it.

As the fight commenced, Drusilla began wriggling in her
ropes, trying to loosen them, glaring daggers at Buffy.

"Oh, shit!" Buffy muttered, tugging at her chains again.

The rope dropped away from Dru's hands and she headed
across the small room with purpose, straight for Buffy.

Bracing herself, she let out an "oomph" of air when Dru
punched her in the stomach.

The vampire pulled back one fist, but Buffy lunged forward
and head-butted her before she could land the punch.

The knock-down-drag-out was continuing. At one point, Buffy
heard Harmony squeal, "Ow! You're on my hair!"

Drusilla tried to get in closer once again, but Buffy deflected
her with a well placed kick. She flipped over to lock her
legs around Dru's neck and used them to fling her aside.

Not to be discouraged, Drusilla grabbed a plank of wood
and swung it at Buffy's head, stunning her with it. She dropped
the board, placed her hand around Buffy's throat, then began
to squeeze.

Which was the moment Spike entered the fray. Having managed
to subdue Harmony, he stumbled across the room and took
hold of Drusilla's arm. "GET OFF OF HER!" he shouted,
throwing her halfway across the room.

Sprawled on the floor, Dru stared at him in hurt bewilderment.

"Poor Spike," she said sadly. "So lost. Even I can't help you
now." With those parting words, she stood and walked out.

Buffy and Spike were watching her go when Harmony made
herself known once again. "Oh, and Spikey?"

They turned their attention back to her.

"You can say goodbye to this!" she stated, pointing at
her ass. "Because you're not going to see it anymore...unless
you run into me somewhere and it's me walking away from
you." She started to leave, then turned back. "But...even
then I'll probably just...you know...back away."

After her departure, there was a long silence in the room.

Sighing, Spike looked at Buffy, then turned away. "What can I say?"
he asked. "I was a soddin' idiot to get involved with that stupid
bint."

"Which one are you referring to?" she asked archly.

He grinned a little and shrugged. "Didn't really have a choice
about Dru."

Buffy glared at him and rattled her chains. "You planning on
unlocking this soon?"

There was a short pause, then he tilted his head a little,
considering her.

"Sorry, luv," he finally said, walking slowly towards her. "Not
just yet."


TBC.....

AN: Fear not! The next chapter veers WILDLY off
canon.

Feedback is welcome

Title: Crushes...As In Plural
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS
characters belong to me.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Rating: NC-17

Summary: Time to rewrite 'Crush' to suit
myself and others, so obviously it's not
according to canon. Canon, shmannon...you
want to have some fun, or not?

AN: I'll be borrowing heavily from the script/
episode...up to a point. I needed to use it in the
first chapter to establish that THIS Buffy is going
to be acting and reacting in a vastly different
way from that other...not so pleasant...Buffy.
I can't just "say what happened" and move on. How
will people know what she's feeling and thinking in
this story if I do that?
**********************************************

Part three....


"Spike...unlock these chains now."

Even though she'd used her most serious "fuck with me and
I'll make you sorry" voice, he didn't do what she requested.

"If I do that," he said slowly, folding his arms across his
chest, "you'll leave."

Buffy gave him what she hoped was an intimidating glare. "If
you don't do it, I'll still leave. I'll just kill you first."

Spike shook his head. "Stop doing that," he said, pointing at
her hands as they twisted and tugged on the iron manacles. "You'll
hurt yourself."

Only the fact that he was right made her stop. The skin
around her wrists was already sore and chafed, she sure as
hell didn't want to start bleeding.

Her senses snapped to sudden alert when he began to
circle around her. Although she forced herself to face front,
she felt goosebumps pop out of her skin when he was standing
behind her.

"What are you doing?" Her voice sounded ridiculously soft to her
own ears. Not the angry and demanding tone she would have
expected of it.

She nearly jumped through the roof of the cave when she felt his
hands settle on either side of her waist.

He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "I love you. Only you."

The breath he was somehow capable of producing stirred tendrils
of her hair, making them brush against her cheek. She pulled in a
ragged breath of her own.

Spike's hands slipped forward and curved over her abdomen,
his fingers lacing together. He had stepped so close to her that
she could feel him pressing against her backside.

All of him....

Swallowing hard, she shook her head to clear it. "Let...let me go."

"I can't. I don't want to," he amended. "I'm...afraid to."

"Afraid of what?"

"Afraid that if you leave...you'll never come back."

Well, that was surprising. She'd thought he'd meant afraid she
would try and stake him.

One of his hands left her stomach and traveled up her side. When
it reached her shoulder, it moved the heavy swath of hair that lay
there, baring her neck.

She almost panicked, then her mind cleared. "You can't bite me."

He chuckled quietly. "I know that. I don't want to bite you...in a bad
way."

Buffy's knees were beginning to shake. Why the hell was THAT
happening?

Spike trailed one finger down the side of her neck in a caressing
motion. "You're skin is so soft," he murmured, close to her ear. "And
you always smell so damn good."

"Spike..." God, her voice sounded even weaker now.

"Shhh," he coaxed her, still whispering. "Close your eyes."

Without a clue as to why she would even consider doing such
a thing, she obeyed.

His hand moved down boldly, palming her breast and squeezing
gently. "Lovely," he observed, his thumb sweeping back and forth
over the taut peak. "Responsive."

Responsive was the word, all right, she thought giddily. In fact,
her body had never been quite so responsive before. It usually
took a while for her to warm up for sex play, maybe because Riley
had always been so hesitant and moved along so slowly.

But Spike was cutting through all the red tape and getting right
to the good parts.

Buffy's mind was skidding off into an impossible direction. She
was perfectly well aware that it was Spike taking such liberties
with her body, but she wasn't as outraged as she should probably
be.

On the inside, anyway.

"Stop that!" she said sharply, pulling her scattered senses to-
gether for one last hurrah. "Don't you dare touch me!"

He had the effrontery to laugh. "Slayer...you sound like you're
channeling one of those virtuous Victorian damsels that used to give
me such trouble when I was a young mortal man." He pushed
his hips against her bottom, letting her feel his arousal. "They
were right experts at the art of cock teasing," he added. "But not
nearly as good as you are, luv."

Good god! What the hell did he have down the front of his
pants? It felt huge...and hard...and before she could stop her-
self, she pushed back against it.

He hissed his approval as his hand tightened on her breast. The
other hand immediately joined the fun, molding itself over her
unattended breast and fondling it with a combination of gentility and
rough greed.

Buffy's head dropped back helplessly, lolling against his chest.

"You like that," he said. It wasn't a question, but an observation.

"Uh-huh," she nodded, unconsciously pushing herself more firmly
into his hands.

"Do you want more? Something different?" His fingers briefly
abandoned her, making her whimper. "Not to worry, baby," he
said soothingly. "I just want to undo your blouse."

His touch was swift and thorough, undoing each tiny button
without popping one off. The fabric parted, aided by his hands,
exposing the lacy red bra that bound her breasts in an irritatingly
sensual way she'd never noticed before.

"Red is my favorite color," he informed her. "Thank you , luv...even
though I know you didn't wear it for me." He sought out and found
the clasp that held the undergarment in place, giving it an expert
twist.

The cups of her bra separated, curling back away from her
breasts, and then his hands were on her bare flesh, stroking and
squeezing, pulling firmly on her erect nipples, driving her wild.

"Oh....oh, god," she moaned under her breath, forcing her eyelids
apart. She wanted to see his hands, watch them feel and manipulate
her swollen flesh.

"Buffy...baby," he muttered, his voice tight with whatever restraint
he was using to keep himself in check. "You feel perfect. So warm
and soft...except for here." He pinched her nipples gently between
his thumbs and forefingers. "Right here...you're hard."

If he kept talking to her like this, it was likely to become a permanent
state of affairs for her. She'd never had a guy whisper such things in
her ear...and he seemed to be just getting started!

Stepping in front of her, he took her breasts more firmly into
his hands and lifted them slightly. He leaned down so closely that
she could see the dark flecks in his blue eyes. "I want to suck them,"
he said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "May I?"

Nice to know he still remembered his manners. All she was
capable of was a slight inclination of her head.

The smile bloomed fully on his attractive face, and he lowered his
head to her right breast. Glancing up to watch her face, his tongue
darted out and licked a perfect circle around her nipple.

Buffy squeaked. She couldn't help herself. It felt so decadently
good. She arched her back a little, waiting.

Holding her gaze with his, he opened his mouth and took her
in, sucking gently, swirling his tongue in a tortuous path.

She watched as his eyes drifted slowly shut, his mouth working
a little more greedily at her breast. "Mmmm," he moaned,
tightening his hands.

Now, she had to admit that he'd been right about that heat and
desire thing. And boy, she was feeling no revulsion whatsoever.

Spike pulled back and began licking the surface of her breast,
his wet and nimble tongue sliding around and over his own fingers
as well as her skin. He moved back and forth from side to the
other, giving both mounds of flesh his equal attention.

Buffy's breath was becoming more and more labored as he
teased and tantalized her. Not to mention that there was a small
river flowing in her underpants.

Of which HE made mention.

"I can smell you," he muttered, nuzzling her curves. "Smell how
hot you are."

She wasn't going to bother denying it. What was the point if he
could smell it?

Before she could begin to get her fuzzy head around his intent,
he reached down with one hand and popped the top button of
her jeans open.

"Hey," she complained. Something wasn't quite right here. "Aren't
you forgetting something?"

"What?" He arched one eyebrow at her. "Should I have asked
permission?"

"Well, yeah...but that's not it. I'm starting to feel a little used
here. I think the least you can do before you stick your hand down
my pants is....kiss me."

This was something she really wanted to experience again. To
see if it was as good as she remembered it being during their
little faux 'engagement'.

He had the grace to look embarrassed. "Oh, baby...I am so sorry.
I'm being a right pig now, aren't I?" Giving her his most girl-charming
smile, he looked up at her through naturally long lashes a woman
would kill to have. "Forgive me, luv?"

Buffy moistened her lips. "Make it up to me."

Sensing her acquiescence, he began to lean forward. The moment
before their lips came together, he asked her if she wanted him to
unlock the manacles.

"Not just yet." She repeated his own words back to him. There was
something kind of naughty and forbidden about it all, and she wasn't
quite ready to give it up.

"That's my girl," he chuckled, pressing his mouth to hers. Her
lips parted for him and his tongue advanced, gliding around the
inside of her cheeks and dancing lightly over the edges of her teeth.

Her own tongue became bold and played with his, twining around
it and then following it back into his mouth. At the same time, he was
lowering the zipper of her pants and pushing the snug denim down
as well as he could.

When her jeans were gathered at her knees, he stepped back to
admire her red lace underpants. "You look mouthwatering...standing
there like that. Your blouse open and your pants down."

Buffy wrapped the chains around her hands and lifted her feet
from the floor. Raising them slowly, she extended her legs straight
out like a gymnast.

Spike didn't need to asked what to do. Without hesitating he
unzipped her boots and tugged them off, then stripped her jeans
and panties away as well, throwing them to one side.

Shedding his coat, he reached down and unzipped his fly.

Buffy watched. "Take your shirt off."

He whipped it over his head, giving her an eyeful of what a
really attractive male physique looked like.

His chest was smooth and hairless, well muscled. He had
a trim waist and the most beautiful abdomen she'd ever seen
on a guy. His biceps were nicely defined with muscle, without
being overly bulging.

Combine all this with the handsome face and laser blue eyes,
and you had a truly delectable male feast.

Buffy lowered her feet back to the floor, relieving the pressure
on her hands. Her eyes moved down his body to the open zipper
of his jeans...and waited.

Seeing how closely she was watching him, Spike reached into his
pants and took a hold of his erection, sliding his hand slowly up
and then back down. He pushed his jeans down a little more,
showing Buffy what he had for her.

"Oh...my," Buffy whispered, seriously impressed. He was...well
endowed, to be sure.

Giving her that smart assed grin of his, he continued moving his
hand up and down his shaft. "See how hard it is, love? That's for
you. That's what you do to me. And it's not just because I think
you're the sexiest girl I've ever seen. It's not just those luscious
tits...or your slim waist...or your pretty round ass, or even your
beautiful face," he said clearly, suddenly serious. "It's because I
love you."

As declarations of love went, it was a damned good one, she
decided.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"Spread your legs a little," he instructed, smiling when she did
it. "Good girl."

Moving closer, he dropped to his knees, bringing his mouth just
about level with her....

Oh, yes!

She liked this. Liked it very much. Even though she hadn't
experienced it too often. Riley would do it...if he was really in
the mood for it, which wasn't often. Considering how much he'd
enjoyed having it done, he hadn't been very good on the reciprocating.

"Christ," Spike muttered, "the scent is driving me insane." He
glanced up and winked wickedly. "All that time wasted fighting me
when all you had to do was drop your pants and I'd have been on
my knees."

She had to smile. "I'll remember that in the future. Subdue vamps
by dropping trou, then plant stake."

"Subdue THIS vamp," he clarified. "And never mind the stake."

Placing his hands on her hips, he urged her forward a little. "So
pretty...even down here. All your pink parts wet...glistening."

Buffy tsked impatiently. "Right. Glistening. Glistening is good.
Touching is good, too."

"Tasting is better." His hands slid around to cup her bottom. "D'ya
want me to taste you?" he asked. "Want my tongue on you?"

Fighting back the flush that was threatening to move from her
cheeks on down to the rest of her, Buffy nodded. "Yeah."

"Right here?" His tongue darted out and flicked at her clit. "Or
here?" he asked. Ducking a little and then coming back up between
her legs, he slid his tongue in and out rapidly.

Buffy inhaled sharply at the sensation.

"Shall I lick you?" Spike inquired, his tongue stroking hard as
he lapped up her juice. "Or kiss you?" Gripping her ass more
firmly, he pressed a soft kiss on her light brown curls. "Or...suck
you?"

A whimpering moan was his only answer as he fastened his
mouth around her clit and began sucking it, softly at first, then
more and more hungrily, spurred on by her pleasure cries.

She was coming unglued at the seams. Never had she EVER felt
anything like this! On his best day, Riley hadn't performed half
as well as Spike was doing.

He disengaged for a moment. "That's it, kitten. Purr for me," he
demanded before reclaiming her.

He alternated sucking with licking, soft with hard, fast with
slow. Buffy couldn't process one sensation before he moved to
the next.

Her body was on the razor's edge of orgasm, teetering precariously,
ready to fall in at any moment.

Somehow, he knew, because he started directing all his attention
to her clit. At the same time he suckled her there, he carefully
inserted one finger inside her, then two.

Time lost all meaning. Spike was insatiable, lapping and
sucking at her as if he was actually receiving nourishment. His
tongue wetly caressed her tender folds each time his fingers
withdrew, making her writhe and plead and sob.

Buffy had only one coherent thought, **Why the hell did I wait so
long?**, before her climax washed over her.

He held on tightly, taking her all the way through it as her
body twisted in his hands...trying to pull away...trying to
get closer.

When it was on the verge of becoming painful, Spike released
her from his tormenting mouth and gently licked her thighs
clean of her spendings.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After several minutes passed quietly, Buffy regained control
of her voice. "Oh, god..." she panted harshly.

Spike rose to his feet. He waited for her to open her eyes,
then said, "Taste it," and kissed her, plunging his tongue
into her mouth and spreading her flavor. "Buffy taste."

She could feel his erection prodding her, rubbing against
her moist curls.

Once again grabbing her chains, she lifted her legs and
wound them around his waist.

Her bold move both surprised and thrilled him. He gripped
her waist, holding her in position. "Trying to tell me some-
thing, Slayer?"

"What do YOU think?" she asked by way of a reply.

With one hand slipping down to hold her bottom, he took
a hold of his cock, slicking it with the semen that was
leaking from the tip. "I think you want me to fuck you."

Before she could say anything affirmative, he positioned
himself and drove into her still highly sensitive sex.

She felt the slow tightness of his penetration lodge
inside of her. Her internal muscles clamped down auto-
matically, making him gasp.

"Buffy," he choked, grinding in deeper. "So tight...so
fucking hot..."

Her hips bucked forward eagerly as he tried to establish a
rhythm. Every time he sank his cock all the way in, she
contracted her pussy around him, giving him a small taste
of what she was capable of.

"Tell me how it feels," he insisted, still thrusting and
withdrawing with maddening slowness. "Do you like it?"

She nodded, a slight jerk of her head. "Love it," she gasped,
staring right at him, her eyes heavy-lidded with lust. "More."

Pumping his hips a little faster, he held her gaze. "You
want it harder?"

Harder..faster..inside..outside..upside down...she wanted
it badly. "Oh, yeah...yeah, I do...harder, Spike...please..
harder..."

"Whatever baby wants," he muttered, his muscles straining
to service her, "baby gets."

He re-doubled his efforts, slamming into her with brute force,
her tight, slick heat shattering his control.

"Buffy...Buffy...Buffy..." he grunted with each thrust.

"Yes," she whispered, her features contorting as she
concentrated all her energy in the lower half of her body.

"Tell me...tell me what I'm doing to you...tell me..."

"You're...you're inside...me...fucking me," she moaned. "So
good...harder....oh....oh, yes..."

Spike shouted hoarsely, his voice voice filled with a
savage exultation. "Come on, baby," he begged. "Want to
make you come...come hard...want to feel it...smell it..."

As if the sex wasn't stimulating enough, he poured a
litany of words into her hear, raw and nasty, and madly
arousing. She wailed as hot bursts of pleasure erupted
from inside of her.

He felt it happening, felt it make her even tighter than be-
fore. His hips pounded furiously, in and out, ramming and
grinding and thrusting until the act came to it's natural and
desperately welcome conclusion.

Buffy's eyes closed, and she sagged in his supporting
arms, all her strength drained completely out of her.

Graying out for a moment, she opened her eyes and
found she was lying across Spike's lap on the floor. He'd
somehow managed to locate the key, and had unfastened
the manacles.

"Let's go, luv," he said, standing with her in his arms.

Buffy lifted her head and rested it on his shoulder. "Go
where?" she asked weakly.

"To bed. My bed. Right now."



TBC....

Feedback is welcome