AUTHOR: Supergirl, with significant help from DearOne
TITLE: Dance With the Devil, Part I: Sex, Drugs, And...
SUMMARY: It's season 4, and a chipless Spike is back in Sunnydale. What does he want? The Slayer, of course...
PAIRING: B/S, some X/An and W/O
TIMELINE: some time after "The Harsh Light of Day" and "Beer Bad", but before "Wild at Heart", so Spike hasn't been captured by the Initiative yet
SPOILERS: none, beyond season 4
RATING: hard R, for sexual situations, some drug refernces, and later mild use of strong language
DISCLAIMER: You know, my shrink keeps telling me I'm not Joss Whedon, but it's just so hard to grasp...
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is entirely based on a roleplay game I have going with my friend DearOne. She's responsible for most of the plot in this, along with about half the dialogue and some of the action descriptions. But I'm the one who put it into story form.
DEDICATION: To ResearchBoy (Greg), for asking me to see the transcript of this, and with that inspiring me to actually turn it into a story. This is also for Annalore, because... Well, do I really need a reason?
FEEDBACK: Do we want feedback? Is Spike the hottest man (not)alive? Duh.
DISTRIBUTION: $50 and you got it, no questions asked... Or if you don't got the money, you could just try telling me where it's going.

It was a quiet night, dark and not particularly starry. Boring in all respects. Buffy was finished with patrol early, now heading back to campus. She twirled her stake absently in her hand as she walked, and thought about how much it sucked to be a slayer.

All she wanted was to be a normal California girl, enjoying her freshman year at college. She should be joining clubs and hanging out with friends, she thought, pulling all-nighters before big exams, or skipping class to go to the beach.

And parties, she should be getting to go to college parties. Like the one Riley Finn, that cute TA from her psychology class, had invited her to tonight. The one she had to miss because of stupid patrol.

It wasn't like she could tell him the truth, that she couldn't go because she was the Slayer and her Watcher had told her to patrol on account of increased demon activity, or some such garble. Giles was currently consulting his books, while she, as usual, was stuck with the grunt work. But Riley was just an innocently naïve Iowa boy who didn't know of things like slayers and watchers. So instead of telling him what she was really doing, she'd had to make up some lame excuse about studying and hope that he bought it.

Meanwhile, in a frat house not far off, a certain blond vampire was finishing off his dinner. It had been in the form of a ditzy little redhead, who was stupid enough to go upstairs with him without checking for a pulse first. Spike opened the bedroom door and glanced one last time at the girl's body sprawled on the bed, before slipping into the hall and back down to the party, as if having just eaten one of the guests were nothing unusual.

Walking by the very same frat house, Buffy looked up at the lights in the windows and allowed a small smile to grace her lips. "Hey, looks like that party's still on..."

Yeah, maybe Riley would still be in there. She could probably go in and find him, try to reconcile what was left of her evening.

She was about to go inside to look for the boy in question, but then glanced down at her outfit and frowned. She was sporting her usual patrol attire: black workout clothes and worn old running shoes. No way could she go to a party looking like this. Better go home and change first.

And hey, maybe Willow would want to come.

With that, the Slayer kept on walking. She hurried now, wanting to get back to her dorm, put on her party clothes, and return to the frat before the festivities were over. She never even suspected that inside that party she was so eager to get back to, her own mortal enemy had just descended the stairs, and was now scoping out the crowd of young people as he moved through them, looking for his next snack.

Spike stoped, grabbed himself a beer, then leaned lazily against a table and glanced around. It could be fun to stay a little longer, he decided. See what other tasty little morsel he could get his hands on.

* * * *

Buffy walked up to her dorm room and called out "Will?" before opening the door...

She quickly shut it. "Wow. That is something I did NOT want to see." Completely mortified, it took her several minutes before she found her voice again, "Um... uh, sorry, I didn't..." she stammered awkwardly, speaking through the closed door, "...I didn't know you and Oz were... Didn't we use to have some sort of sock-on-the-door rule?"

Willow scrambled to pull her shirt back over her head, her face flushing now in embarrassment instead of... the other, more fun reason. "Oh goddess," the redhead muttered, watching her boyfriend put his clothes back on in the same calm manner with which he did everything else. "Buffy... Just a minute!" she called through the door.

"Uh, no, sorry, my bad. You don't have to... I mean if you guys are..."

"No! It's fine," Willow pulled the door open, "see? Uh... Oz has to go anyways."

Oz was quietly buttoning up the last buttons of his bowling shirt. He gave Willow a quick kiss on his way past her and out the door, then nodded at Buffy as he left. The blonde nodded back awkwardly, saying nothing. She turned back to her friend.

"I really am sorry, Will. I swear, I didn't mean..."

"No, it's my fault. I-I should've... I'm sorry," a very flustered Willow mumbled in embarrassment, as Buffy entered the room, both girls still feeling extremely weird about the whole situation. "So," she began after a drawn out pause, "What's up?"

"Party. Remember that one I told you about, the one Riley invited me to?"

"Oh yeah," Willow sat down on the bed. "So, Riley, huh?" she asked, grinning.

"Yeah..." Buffy smiled dreamily as she went over to her closet, "I really think he likes me." Then, sounding a little insecure, she added, "It's not too soon for me to be assuming he likes me, is it?"

"Trust me, he likes you. It's so obvious. He'd be crazy not to!" Willow assured her, as Buffy was busy picking out something to wear. "Is he meeting you there?" the redhead asked.

Buffy turned away from the closet, holding up a cute, strappy blue mini-dress that she was considering. "Oh, no, the party started a long time ago. I was walking by the frat house on my way back," she explained. "I was actually surprised to see it was still going. I would've just gone in and looked for Riley, but I figured I better come home and change first."

Willow nodded.

"So, what do we think?" Buffy asked, indicating the dress for her best friend's approval.

"Perfect," Willow grinned, "Riley will be speechless. You know those frat boys, life's one big party to them. As far as they're concerned, classes and degrees are just a nice side benefit of college."

"Yeah," Buffy said, "Unlike us scholarly girls, to whom studying is of utmost importance." She held the mock-serious expression for a few seconds, then promptly burst out laughing.

Willow giggled with her. "Certainly!" She sat down at her computer desk. "Well, have fun Buffy."

"Don't you wanna come?" Buffy asked zipping the dress up and putting on some ridiculously uncomfortable high-heeled platforms.

"No, you go, Buffy, I have some stuff to do." She turned on her computer. "I mean you don't like need me there, right?"

"Um... for moral support, maybe?" Buffy meekly ventured, but then said, "Nah, don't worry about it, Will, it's ok. I can handle a night on my own." She grabbed her purse and headed for the door. "Wish me luck!"

"I think Riley will need the luck, when he sees you," Willow grinned, "You'll blow him away. Good luck, I won't wait up."

"Thanks!" Buffy called back, running out the door.


The redhead sighed, then started on her homework.

* * * *

Spike scanned the crowd, eyes roaming hungrily over the many delicious candidates for his next snack. There were plenty of well-built frat-boy jocks, who would undoubtedly have good blood, but Spike looked them over and noticed only the women. There was one thing he was in the mood for tonight: his favorite, the sex-and-blood combo.

He spotted a cute brunette across the room, who had been eyeing him appreciatively. She was tan, thin, and curvy, with voluptuous breasts that looked ready to spill over from her flimsy excuse for a top, and a big puff of wild curls, burgundy-brown, that framed her head and rained down on her shoulders. He always did prefer brunettes.

Spike gave her a sexy grin, and with this encouragement she came right over.

"Hi..." the girl smiled from under thick lashes, her voice low and husky, and drenched with sex.

"'Ello, cutie," the vampire smirked, licking his lips. She seemed like a tasty one. He gave a nod toward the other couples, "Fancy a dance, luv?"

"Sure. With a stud-muffin like you, anytime."

Spike turned and placed his hands on her hips as they began to move with the beat. "Coming from the sexiest woman in the house, it means a lot," he said, smiling at her charmingly.

"Ooh, I love that accent," the brunette purred in his ear, wrapping herself around him as they danced, "You British?"

"Right, luv. Long live the queen. Frankly, I prefer you American girls. You're much more fun..." He gave his victim his most devastating cavalier smile, and got the desired effect, when she pulled him even closer and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"Oh, I'd love to show you just how fun I can be..."

Spike raised a scarred eyebrow, the grin widening. "I 'ad a feeling we'd get along well, pet."

His hands moved to her lower back, creeping slowly down further. Instead of objecting, the girl plainly allowed him to grope her right in front of everyone, as if it was nothing unusual to her. As he grabbed her butt she simultaneously rubbed up against his crotch. Oh yeah, he'd definitely like this one.

"You got a girlfriend?" her breath tickled his ear, "'Cause if you do, I don't mind."

Spike let his own lips brush her earlobe as he whispered back, "'M all yours, luv."

She shivered at the feel of his lips. Her hands ran over his back under his duster, marveling at how built he was. "Mmm... lucky me..."

Oh, this one was delicious indeed. He could tell she'd be a wild one in bed, could show him a few things he hadn't seen from these other birds. Truth be told, Spike hadn't had himself a decent shag since... well Harmony wasn't that bad, but damn if he didn't bloody well miss his princess! But he'd have to do with what he got, for now. This one was no Drusilla, obviously, -- as if any bint could ever compare -- but for what it was worth, she was better than most of them.

And that body, that smooth golden-brown skin... Spike pulled her tighter against him and nuzzled her neck, inhaling deeply. He could smell her tantalizingly warm blood and feel it pulsing below her skin, against his lips, begging for him to sink his fangs in and drink.

His touch exited her, and suddenly, the girl didn't feel like dancing. "Listen..." she purred seductively in his ear, "you wanna go get wasted? I've got some grass..."

At this Spike's grin turned smug for a moment. Some of them just made it too easy. He gave her neck a soft kiss before taking her hand and leading her towards the door.

* * * *

It took Buffy a lot longer to walk from her dorm back to the frat house than it had taken her from the frat house to the dorm. "Damn these shoes," the Slayer cursed as she stumbled less than graciously across the wet and squishy grass, praying that she wouldn't fall and ruin her new dress.

She was nearing the Phi Kappa house just as Spike and his date/snack were walking out onto the back porch. As soon as they were outside, the brunette grabbed him by his shoulders and promptly shoved her tongue into his mouth.

Buffy had to walk by them on her way in, and frowned. Couldn't these people use one of the rooms upstairs? She squinted a little at the groping couple, neither of whose faces she could see. Something about the guy seemed unsettlingly familiar, but he was too tangled in his lady friend for her to be able to tell if she knew him or not. She wasn't quite sure whether that tingling she felt was her slayer sense going off, or just nervousness about Riley, that she'd misplaced onto some innocent human couple. 'Well, not exactly innocent,' she thought, when she saw where the guy's hands were going...

'I really don't need to see this,' Buffy decided. She'd done quite enough seeing for the night. Not her slayer sense, just nervousness, she told herself as she shuddered and hurried inside, before she had to witness any more of this shameful display.

Spike's nostrils picked up that familiar Slayer scent as she was passing them, but he paid it no mind, having more important things to concentrate on. He was busy frantically kissing his would-be victim's face and neck as his hands went all over her body: breasts, thighs, backside. He turned them around and pushed her up against the wall, continuing his assault on her mouth until she shoved him back lightly, making him growl at being interrupted.

"Slow down, tiger... I thought we were going to--" Spike silenced her with another hungry kiss, but she pushed him away again. "Don't you wanna get toasted first? It's a hundred times better when you're high."

Spike kissed her again, slowly this time, then made his way from her lips to her ear, planting little kisses all along her jaw on the way. "I think we can manage..." he murmured, nipping lightly at her earlobe, "...quite splendidly..." he licked her neck, "...on our own." Then he pulled back then to take in her rosy cheeks and trembling lips, grinning wickedly at the sight. "But whatever you say, pet."

She wiggled around to get to her purse, which was hanging from her shoulder, and started to pull out a small plastic bag of pre-rolled joints. But Spike stopped her with a gesture at all the people passing them on their way in and out of the house, implying that this probably wasn't the best place to smoke pot. "Woods?" she breathed, nodding toward the patch of trees not far off.

Spike shook his head. "Best use the upstairs, luv. Bed an' all..." He raised his eyebrows with the implication.

"Mmm, a smart one..." She stuffed the bag back into her purse and let him lead her.

Inside, Buffy was already busy looking for Riley. Way too many people went to these parties, she thought, sifting through the crowd with no luck.

"Have you seen this guy... kind of tall and muscular, blond hair, blue eyes...?"

The random frat boy she had asked smirked at her as he looked around at all the tall, muscular guys. "No," he chuckled.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Oh, forget it..."

She was turning around, when she suddenly spotted -- no, it couldn't be -- Spike? It seemed he was leading some slutty brunette up the stairway, obviously intending to have her as his next meal.

For a minute the Slayer couldn't believe what she was seeing. "No way. Please no." But there was no mistaking it: bleached hair, cocky smirk, black leather duster.

It was him. the mean time, if you like this, please read my other fics