Boredom. Something I would have literally killed for back in high school. Now I would kill for just a fraction of the excitement I had when I was younger. The Bronze is a ghost town tonight, as I sit at the bar, chewing on my straw and waiting for the buzz to kick in from my watered down rum and coke. Nothing for a slayer to do, everyone else has it taken care of... Damn Giles and his great training. I fidget with the zipper on the front of my new tight black dress.
No one's even trying to pick me up. What a waste of a short skirt.
The bartender slams another drink on the bar in front of me. I look up, confused. "From the blonde in the back," he explains, pointing.
I can't quite make out who it is, so I hold up the drink and give a nod to the blob in the back. The blob stands up.
Oh great. He's walking over to me. The last thing I need is some desperate loser trying to talk to me for the rest of the night.
As he walks closer, beer bottle hanging by his side, I can't help but notice the sexy rockstar swagger of his hips.
Shit. Another bad boy. Just what I need.
He has spiky blonde hair, pierced ears, and underneath a studded leather biker jacket he is wearing the tightest t-shirt possible, and I recognize the artwork from one of the Sex Pistol's albums. His black jeans are faded and tight in all the right places.
Mmm. He's way too hot to be a vampire.
The night is suddenly starting to look a little less boring.
"I couldn't help but notice you sitting all alone at the bar. Are you waiting for someone?" I couldn't help but notice your sexy British accent...
"No, just killing time. Thanks for the drink." I hold up my drink and he taps it with his beer bottle.
"My pleasure. The name is Spike." He holds out his hand and I shake it.
"My name is Buffy. Nice to meet you, Spike. Would you like sit down?" I ask, patting the bar stool next to me.
"Don't mind if I do."
Ungh. That accent!
Spike takes off his jacket and places it on the stool next to him. My heart skips a beat as I notice the Union Jack tattoo on his neck and the muscles in his arms. He is wearing some kind of wristband on his left arm with metal spikes sticking out of it.
"So...whereabouts are you from, Spike?"
"Texas," he drawls, tipping an invisible cowboy hat.
"Ha ha. Very funny," I say, rolling my eyes.
"Sorry. I couldn't help myself. I grew up in London. But I've lived here in Sunnydale for a few years now. What about you?"
He takes another swig of his beer and lights a cigarette. His biceps flex with every movement.
Is he doing that on purpose?
"Oh, Just boring ol' Sunnydale," I reply, shaking my head.
"It's boring, is it?" He mocks my accent with the word 'boring'. "Well, we'll just have to change that, won't we now?" He touches my thigh and lightning bolts pass through me.
"I guess that depends on what you have in mind." I bite my lip and tilt my head as I look questioningly into his gorgeous blue eyes.
Spike stamps out his cigarette into the ashtray and takes the last swig of his beer. "You just finish up your drink. I'll take care of everything else."
I pick up my drink and begin to sip on it slowly. My head is spinning with the possibilities.
You barely know this guy, Buffy! What are you thinking? Do you really want to leave with him?
Oh, stop. You're the slayer! It's not like he can hurt you. You've spent your whole life trying to do the right thing. Live a little!
Before I can make up my mind, Spike grabs my hand and pulls me off the barstool onto my feet. "Hey! I wasn't finished with my drink!" I protest.
"I'll get you another one later. Come on!" Spike closes the tab, grabs his jacket, I grab my purse, and he leads me out the door. His hand at the small of my back sends chills over my entire body.
"Where are we going?" I ask, as we exit the doors and breathe in the chilly night air.
"You'll see." He is holding my hand now, tracing circles on my palm with his thumb.
Oh God. Can't we just make out? Like, right now?
As he pulls me along, I start to realize where we are headed, but I don't let on. He's trying to excite me, not realizing that the graveyard is a place I am quite familiar with. I rub my arms and suck in a breath. "I'm so sorry! Are you cold?" he asks. I nod and he hands me his jacket. I'll have to remember that one. Any excuse to get another look at those arms! I shrug the jacket on, surprised at the weight of it and continue to walk. These heels are not made for walking.
As we arrive at the cemetery gates, I look around and try to act confused. "What are we doing here?" I ask innocently.
"I dunno," he shrugs. "Something about this place just draws me in."
"Freak!" I joke, and punch him in the arm.
Spike smiles and shakes his head. He bends over and picks up an edge of the chain link fence for me to crawl through. I can tell he's checking out at my ass, but try to ignore it.
He follows me in and we stand for a moment just looking at each other.
"Um..I didn't really have a plan past this," he laughs. "I'm surprised you're so cool and collected. I figured the thought of me taking you to a graveyard would either scare you off or make you think I'm terribly exciting and mysterious." His blue eyes sparkle as he runs his fingers through his hair. When he lifts his arm I get a glimpse of a tattoo that I didn't notice before. A skull and crossbones with a banner reading "Let me rest in peace".
What is it with this guy and death?
"There's a lot about me that would surprise you," I mumble, and walk ahead of him, trailing my fingertips on the tops of tombstones.
Poor guy has no idea what he's gotten himself into. I think this is the first time I've ever been to a graveyard for a reason other than to fight zombies. Weird.
Spike follows behind me, occasionally reading snippets of tombstone engravings aloud.
"I think I want my tombstone to say something about how I lived a life without regrets." I say.
"Maybe I could help with that, Petal." Spike places his hand on my shoulder and moves in behind me, breathing in the scent of my neck.
An Englishman is giving me a pet name. And smelling my neck. How unbelievably hot...Wait a second! My neck! The last person to do that was a—
I take another step forward and Spike grabs my wrist. As I turn to look at him, I see the tell-tale signs of vampire: the wrinkly forehead, the pointy teeth. I frown.
Aw, man! I was hoping to get some action tonight! And now I have to kill him. Darn.
I reach to open my purse so I can grab Mr. Pointy, and Spike grabs my other wrist. His face relaxes and the look of hunger is replaced with a look of remorse. "Look, Buffy. I didn't mean to...lose control like that. I've been...watching you. And I just want to talk to you. Don't worry. I know who you are. I know what you are. And I'm not here to hurt you."
"Oh, really?" I scoff. "What did you bring me to this graveyard for then? A game of strip poker?"
"Well, that idea isn't half bad, actually..." He shakes his head. "No, Pet. I'm here strictly on business."
"And what sort of business involves pointy fangs?" I ask.
"Funny that you should ask. The thing is... I need your blood."
I struggle to release my wrists again to grab my stake. Any movement by me just tightens his grip. It's been a long time since I've been overpowered by...anyone, really.
"Um, yeah. That's what I thought. No surprise there. Now let go of my wrists and I'll be on my way." At this point, I am starting to panic a little. This guy is strong.
"Buffy. I really don't want to hurt you. I have a proposal for you, but you can't run off. I need you to listen to me. If I let go, will you listen?"
Tears spring to my eyes from the sheer pain in my wrists.
What's the worst that could happen? He hasn't tried to bite me... yet. So maybe I'm safe? The pleading look in his eyes makes me relax just a bit and he loosens his grip.
"Oh, all right." I huff, "What is your 'proposal'?"
He releases my wrists and I try in vain to rub the sting out of them. Spike lights another cigarette and offers me the pack. I shake my head in refusal. As he takes his first drag he starts to pace in front of me. Spike takes another deep pull from his cigarette and runs his hands through his golden hair.
Geez, spit it out already! If it's my blood you want, I know what my answer is going to be!
Finally, after what seems like a century, he begins to speak. "I died one hundred and thirty three years ago. I've made my way up the ladder of power and became stronger than you can imagine. I have killed slayers and I have feasted on their blood. I was unstoppable."
"Was?" I ask, my voice cracking.
Spike takes a quick drag of his cigarette. "I don't know what's happening to me, Buffy. I can't fight like I used to. I get weak after a few minutes. It takes me days to recover from an injury. This is not like me...I...I think I'm dying, Buffy."
"So maybe you're just getting old." I shrug, "What's that got to do with me?"
"Vampires don't get old. You know that. It's like someone has found a way to poison me. Human blood helps a little, but it's like I'm building up an immunity to it. I've gone over every possibility, and I just can't help but think that a slayer's blood would cure me for good."
"No. No way. What made you think that I would just give you my blood? You're a vampire! I should have killed you when I had the chance!"
Spike flicks his cigarette into the darkness and takes a step closer, breathing into my ear. "Because I have something you need, Pet."
"Oh? And what is it you think that I need?" I try to take a step back, but Spike just moves forward until I am trapped between his gigantic chest and the trunk of a tree.
"Excitement. You yourself said Sunnydale is boring. I can help you with that. I may be a lot of things, but boring is not one of them." His lips are on my neck now, tickling it with his hot breath as he speaks, and he pushes his jacket off of my shoulders. It falls to the ground with a thump.
I scoff. "Spike, that's flattering and all, but I think I can find something to do to take my mind off the boredom. Something that doesn't involve a blood donation." I put my hands on his chest to push him away, but something stops me. The feel of his tight upper body under my hands instantly makes me weak at the knees. As I move my hands down to his torso I can feel every hard muscle beneath his soft t-shirt. This is crazy, Buffy. Don't give in! There are plenty of rock-hard men that would kill to have you touch their chests! But then again...it has been a while. Maybe you could just play with him and then kill him? My heartbeat quickens at the thought, and I know that he can hear it.
"Buffy, please." He breathes my name onto my neck and my entire body tightens.
His hands are suddenly on my waist, and moving upward. I turn my head and place my lips next to his ear.
"Make it worth my while then," I whisper. "I dare you."
I can feel Spike smile against my cheek. "Oh, is that how it's going to be? It's been years since I've played Truth or Dare. But I'm warning you, Love, I'm not much for truth, and I can never resist a dare."
Neither can I, Spike. Neither can I.
I bite my lip to hide my smile and try to push him off of me, but he grinds his hips into mine.
God, that feels good.
I give in too quickly and grab onto the bottom of his t-shirt, practically ripping it off of him. His body is even better than I imagined. Muscles that I never knew existed rippled in his chest and abdomen. Two muscles forming a 'v' lead to a secret place below his black jeans.
While I'm busy staring at his chest, I realize he has taken hold of my hair. He pulls my head to the side to get a view of my neck and licks it slowly with his warm tongue. "May I?" he asks and looks up at me. There's that sad look in his eyes again.
"Geez, can't you wait? You still haven't upheld your part of the bargain! You said you would make it worth my while!"
"If you want me to have the energy for that, I suggest you let me drink. Trust me. You won't be sorry."
I sigh and tilt my head to the side. "I do trust you. Heaven knows why. Just don't go overboard and kill me or something. I'm pretty popular around here. People need me."
Spike instantly returns to full-on vampire mode. I don't know if I'll ever get used to that- the look of a killer. I'm trained to slay killers! Just as I think I might be making a huge mistake, Spike pushes my head further to the side and quickly sinks his teeth into my neck. The feeling of him sucking my blood is indescribable. A mixture of pain and the most incredible pleasure I have ever experienced. I groan unexpectedly and my breathing becomes ragged. I can't believe I'm actually enjoying this. The sound of my pleasure makes him so hard that I can feel it against my hip. I reach down and grab him through his jeans and push on the bulge with the palm of my hand.
I can feel his body tense and become hot, and he releases his grip on my neck. I feel his teeth retracting from my skin and a sharp sting. I groan with the disappointment that it's over, and he looks at me incredulously, licking my blood off of his lower lip. "You quite enjoyed that didn't you, Pet?"
I can feel my cheeks turning beet red. "Erm, no. Not really. It was just...different," I lie. "Thank you for restraining yourself...you know, not killing me and all..."
"Believe me, it was not easy, but killing you was the last thing on my mind." He grins, and I can tell he is undressing me in his head.
"Feel any better?" I ask, already knowing the answer.
"I feel almost...immortal!" He grins, and picks me up swinging me around. I giggle like a little schoolgirl.
"Well, I guess now it's time for your end of the bargain," I say, and playfully bite his neck.