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Gunning for Buffy

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SPIKE: Drac's in Sunnydale-way? I guess the old boy needed closure after all. 
RILEY: Actually, he's gunning for Buffy.


When the slayer came storming in the day after the cowboy had paid him a visit, Spike figured she was there for exactly one reason, same as her boy – information on Dracula. He'd already told Agent Stick-Up-His-Arse everything worth telling, though, and even let her know that before she got started, making nice, like. So's she wouldn't stake him. Finn might be so full of hot air his feet floated half an inch above the ground, but his superhoney, now she might actually do the deed, especially with the little matter of his betraying her and her gang to Adam still hanging between them.

So it was putting it mildly to say he was surprised when she held up a hand to cut him off and said, "Spike, I want you to bite me."

"Uh," Spike said, quite effectively derailed. "Excuse me?"

She rolled her eyes, mouth going all pinched in that tolerating-Spike way he most especially hated, and said, like she was talking to an imbecile, "I. Want you. To bite me."

"Right," Spike said. "Not hearing things. All right, then, Slayer, over to the sacrificial altar with you."

"I'm serious," she said.

"So am I," he said, though he was anything but.

"I'll pay you," she said, waving a wad of cash under his nose, and that's when he sobered up.

"You're serious?"

"Uh, yeah, I did say that already. And kind of on a schedule here, too, so if we could hurry it along that'd be swell."

"And why, pray tell, does a vampire slayer want her Big Bad nemesis to bite her?"

"Oh please, Spike," she said, rolling her eyes again, "you're barely even the Little Bad these days." Which was rude as all get out for a girl wanting his help, but before he could voice his displeasure she rode right over him to explain how Dracula kept putting her under a thrall, and she'd read that a bite from another vamp was the only way to counteract it. The more powerful the better – and how was that to soothe his ego? It sunk in that she was seriously offering to pay him to bite her and drink her blood, and get one over on Drac to boot. There was no downside! Oh, right, except...

"Sweetheart, I hate to be the one to put a damper on this very attractive proposition," he told her, "but your boyfriend and his chums made sure that old Spike can't sink his teeth into anything more appetizing than a blood bag these days."

Now she did look a bit uncomfortable, which was always a lovely sight. "I know that vampire bites don't have to hurt."

"Oh ho," Spike said, perking up. "Angel, that dog. I didn't think he had it in him!"

"It's not what you think," she said, flushing prettily, but Spike thought it was exactly what he thought, especially from the way her pulse started skipping. Did she know there was no middle ground to biting? It either hurt or... not. Was she seriously asking him for the not? Oh, this was too good to be true.

"How's it going to work then, pet?" he asked. "I'll have to take some blood to make it stick, so you might want to-"

"I'll stand," she said quickly, and whipped out a stake as he came closer. Ah, yeah, he'd been wondering about insurance.

"Hope you've got a firm grip," he said, pausing for a moment. "I'd hate for your hand to slip in the throes of-"

"Let's just get on with it, shall we?" she said, with forced brightness. Shrugging, he positioned her to his liking, supported at her back by a stone pillar, and brushed her hair aside. This close, she smelled amazing, like the best meal he'd ever have, and he felt his body responding, fangs itching, mouth watering, cock stirring to life.

She placed the stake against his shirt, just over his heart, but even so her heart was hammering, and he steadied her shoulders and murmured, "Shh, shh, pet, I'm not going to hurt you," before leaning down into the crook of her neck and opening his mouth over her skin.


Buffy expected him to bite right away, just dive right in, the way Spike always just dove right in whether he was wanted or not, but in fact what she felt was cool, soft lips and an even cooler tongue.

"Are you kissing me?" she gasped, trying not to shiver.

"Well, yeah," he said, voice low and – god – intimate. Right next to her ear. "Look, sunshine, this ain't my first roller disco. Just relax, yeah? Neither of us wants this to hurt, believe me." And she could've objected, she really could've, but she mostly just wanted him to get on with it, and despite all the incentives she'd shoved under his nose, Spike was just perverse enough to walk away if she pushed him too hard. So she kept schtum and let him mack on her neck. Maybe if she closed her eyes she could imagine it was... mmm, yeah, this wasn't too bad.

He was sucking lightly now, swiping his tongue over the artery, and when she felt his human teeth just lightly brush her skin, the sensation was so intense she shivered into goosebumps and groaned. They both froze at that, and Buffy squeezed her eyes closed, hand tightening on the stake at Spike's chest, and willed him not to comment. If he commented, she would have no choice but to dust him, but if he just carried on... oh, god, did that vamp have a talented tongue.

Her breathing was speeding up and there was nothing she could do to stop it, her whole body hot and starting to tremble. She heard the shift of bones and tissue when he changed into vamp face, and when his fangs finally went into her she felt herself go limp, like she had no control over her body, stake clattering to floor and swooning into him like a freaking silent movie heroine. She was so turned on it was almost painful. And then Spike pushed his thigh between her legs and started to suck, and the sound that came out of her throat was almost a wail because suddenly she was three seconds from coming, hands gripping his shoulders and riding his thigh, and she felt his arousal against her hip as well, and it should have been gross but it was somehow the last little push and she crashed over the edge into a bliss that left her head swimming.

She just had enough time to wonder how she was going to dislodge Spike with her arms like noodles and her stake on the floor when his rocking against her became more urgent and he detached from her throat, head back and gasping, and came to a shuddering halt with a look of agonized pleasure on his face.

Shakily, Buffy put a hand to her neck, and felt the fresh bite marks overlaying the ones from the night before, already scabbing over with her accelerated healing. Leaning back against the pillar, she gave silent thanks to Spike's foresight in putting her there, and waited for him back up because she certainly couldn't coordinate that kind of movement right now.

He glanced at her as he licked a smear of blood from the corner of his mouth, a fleeting, almost confused glance, before gently pushing away from her. The friction of his thigh against her crotch caused an aftershock to rip through her and she gasped, eyes falling closed a moment, and when she could open them again, Spike had his back to her.

"Got what you wanted, now run along, Slayer," he said, voice sounding oddly tight, and Buffy didn't need telling twice. Swiping up her stake as she went, one hand pressed to her neck, she ran all the way home. It wasn’t until later, as she tore her clothes off to throw herself at the shower and its beautiful cleansing powers that she realized: she’d forgotten to pay him, and he’d forgotten to ask.