Evil Inside

AUTHOR: Jypzrose
EMAIL: jypzrose@aol.com
RATING: NC-17
PAIRING: Buffy/Spike
DISCLAIMER: I wish they belonged to me.
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Prologue

In 1973, Robert Lowell bought a plot of land on the outskirts of a town named Sunnydale.  He thought it would be a nice place to raise a family.  He immediately set about building a house.  The house was to be gift to his wife, and it was built to her whim.

The wife, whose name was Sara, was young and beautiful.  She had cornflower blue eyes, and hair as black as night.  Her skin was the color of fresh milk, her lips the shade of blood.  Her small frame was lush, with full breasts and softly curved hips.  Her face held the innocence of a child, and her heart. . .

Well, her heart was as black as her hair.  You see, Sara was a child of the dark.  Her greatest wish was to become one of the creatures that roamed the night.

When her husband had shown her the land he’d bought, her blue eyes had flashed with delight.  Sara knew nothing of hellmouths, but she could feel the evil radiating from the very ground she stood on.  Sense it’s power in the air.

So Sara had cried out in happiness, flinging herself into her startled husband’s arms.  She begged him to start building immediately.  Robert, who couldn’t deny her anything, complied.  And by the following weekend, the ground was broken, and building began.

~ ~ ~

Things did not go well from the beginning.  Robert had a hard time finding a construction crew in town to do the work.  He’d finally had to hire one from L. A.  And before the house was finished, two crews had quit.

“This place is evil.” The large, black, rather superstitious man in Robert’s opinion, had said, before leaving with his men.  Robert had shrugged off the comment, and immediately found another company to complete the job.  By the time the house was done, a total of 10 crewmen from three separate company’s had gone missing.  They were never seen again.

~ ~ ~

The day the young couple moved into the house, Sara spent her time roaming through the rooms.  She relished the power she felt pulsating from within the very walls surrounding her.  She walked into the parlor, smiling at the deceptively normal decorations.

The hardwood floors gleamed in the sunlight, in this room and throughout the house.  A large area rug in the colors of the sunset stretched across the floor, stopping at the edge of the brick fireplace that spanned the south wall.  Pictures of her wedding day adorned the mantle.  A large picture of a forest at night hung above the mantle.  The walls were painted a soft yellow, and lace curtains adorned the bay window adjacent to the fireplace.

The furnishings were antique, painstakingly restored to their former glory.  From the high back couch with it’s cherrywood trim and floral patterned cushions, to the matching chairs.  The couch table was the only new piece in the room, stretching across the back of the couch.  A handmade lace table runner was draped over it, and a large milkglass vase filled with fresh wildflowers stood in it’s center.

Sara wandered out of the parlor and crossed the foyer.  The small three legged table next to the heavy door was also adorned with a vase full of colorful flowers.  Lace curtains graced the window it stood in front of, and a long burgundy rug ran from the door, down the hall and  to the kitchen.  The walls here were painted a smooth cream color, to offset the color of the wood trim.

Sara paused in the dining room door, sweeping her eyes over the large cherry wood table and chairs with matching china armoire and buffet table.  No rug was on the floor in here, and the walls were painted blue.

In the kitchen, the white appliances gleamed in the fading light.  A large butcher block table dominated the center of the room.

Sara quickly left the kitchen, walking down the long hall back to the foyer.  She soaked up the evil that permeated the house deep into her pores.  She made her way outside, wanting to see the structure in the seconds before night fell.

Stepping into the yard, Sara turned and looked at her perfect home.

It was simple design.  Basically box shaped with a front porch that ran across the entire front of the house.  The porch was white, with two large and four small, sturdy support columns holding up the awning.  The wood siding was stained a deep maroon.

With a large smile, Sara Lowell watched as the sun descended in the sky.  As night surrounded the house, wonderful images of blood and death filled her head.  She sighed contentedly as she walked back into her house.

It was time to go see her husband.

~ ~ ~

“Oh, dear.” Giles gasped.

“What’s the matter Giles?” Dawn asked, looking up from her laptop computer.

“The possible nest I sent Spike and Buffy to,. .” he paused to clean his glasses.

“Yeah?” Dawn prompted.  She really needed to get her paper done for Psychology.

“What? Oh, ye.  It would seem the house has a bloody history.”

“This is Sunnydale.  Land of the Hellmouth.  All the history is bloody.” Dawn reminded him, turning back to her computer.

“Er, yes.  Apparently the young wife of the man who built the house killed her husband.”

“Uh huh.” Dawn murmured, fingers flying across the keyboard.  “How?” she asked absently.

“It would seem she gutted him while having sexual relations with him.”

“Eeeww.” Dawn exclaimed, looking up at him.  “Sometimes I wish you guys still thought I was too young to know about certain things.” the 20 year old finished, grimacing.  Giles smiled at her affectionately as she went back to her work.

“Sometimes I do too.”  He sighed, feeling incredibly old.

Chapter One

“Uh, Pet?”

“Yeah?”

“What’re we doin’ here again?”

“Vampire nest.”

The two blondes, one vampire, one Slayer, were standing in the very overgrown lawn of a very dark and foreboding house.  It reminded Spike of the main house in ‘Psycho’, and he half expected to see Anthony Perkins in a dress to come storming down the front steps, wielding a butcher knife.

“You sure?” Spike asked, staring up at it.

“That’s what Giles said.”  Buffy replied, shrugging.

“Uh, huh.” Spike twisted the ax he was carrying nervously in his hand.

“Well.  I guess we better go in.”  Buffy started towards the house, pausing when she noticed Spike wasn’t following.  “Spike?”

“I’m not goin’ in there.” he said simply, his blue eyed gaze locked on the dark upper windows of the house.  Buffy arched an eyebrow at him.

“Why not?” His eyes flicked to her briefly before returning to the house.  The Slayer suddenly realized he was afraid.  With shock filled eyes, she took in his rigid stance.  He stood with his feet slightly apart, his left hand twisting his ax, his right hand clenching and unclenching into a fist.  He looked ready to attack anything that came at them.  Be it a demon or a racoon.

“It’s watching us.” Spike said uneasily.  He glared at Buffy when she snorted.

“Awww.  Is big bad Spikey afraid of the nasty house?” she taunted.  His eyes narrowed into slits, but he didn’t rise to the bait.  He returned his gaze to the imposing structure before them.  Spike had no clue where this was coming from.  He was the Big Bad, not afraid of anything.  But this house was, as Buffy would say, really giving him the wiggins.

“Come on, Spike.  You’re not going to earn redemption by standing around.  Let’s get this over with.”  Buffy said, starting to feel uneasy herself.  Only minutes before, she had thought it was just a house.  Granted, a creepy, dilapidated, ugly house, with it’s peeling paint and sagging front porch.  But a house just the same.  However, if Spike was hesitant about going in, maybe there was something to worry about.

Spike scowled at her words, knowing she was right.  He glanced over at the woman who was the reason he was fighting the good fight.  It had been five years since his fumbling confession of love.  Five years since their defeat of Glorificus, or Glory the Hell Bitch, as Spike called her.  When Doc had stabbed Spike and thrown him off the tower, Spike had managed to get a grip on the demon and pulled him along for the ride.  When they had crash landed on the bottom, Doc was dead, and Spike was seriously injured, nearly staking himself on a piece of the broken crate he had landed on.

Buffy had kept Glory busy long enough for the time of the ceremony to have past.  When Ben had reclaimed his body, Buffy rushed up the tower, freeing Dawn.  She never saw Giles kneel next to Ben.  Never saw her Watcher walk away from the now lifeless body of the intern.

But Spike had seen.  And when Giles had come over to check on the blonde vampire’s injuries, the two Englishmen shared a look of recognition- killer seeing killer.

Buffy had been checking on Spike, who was recovering in her basement, when Whistler showed up with some interesting news.

It seemed that the Powers That Be were impressed with all Spike had done to help with Glory.  If Spike continued to fight on the side of the ‘White Hats’, he would earn his way into Heaven.  He would not be turned human.  Shanshu was promised to another vampire.  But when Spike’s time came, he would not go to Hell.

Spike only had to look at Buffy to make his decision.

So here he stood, outside of an old house that looked like it might take a bite out of them.  All so he could go to Heaven.  All because of the petite blonde that had captured his undead heart.

*Wanker* he called himself, before turning to Buffy.

“Right then.  Let’s get this show on the road.” Spike hefted his ax and braced it on his shoulder.  Flashing her a sexy grin, he sauntered towards the house, fighting the panic that grew with each step he took.  Buffy fell into step beside him, casting concerned glances his way.

They climbed the porch steps carefully, eyeing the over hang with trepidation.

“Careful, luv.  Don’t want this thing to come down on us.” Spike whispered.  Buffy nodded, stepping carefully around the rotting boards.

A stake appeared in Buffy’s hand as she reached for the doorknob with the other.  She pulled her hand back when the door opened on it’s own.  The startled pair exchanged a look before Buffy cautiously stepped over the threshold.  Spike followed close behind, immediately slipping into game face to see in the dark interior.

“Um, Spike?” Buffy started, edging closer to him.

“I know, Pet.  Are you sure this is the place?” He asked again.  Neither of them detected any other vampires in the house.  The feeling of panic increased as Spike reached behind him and grabbed her wrist.

“That’s what he said.  I guess he was wrong.” Buffy scanned the dim room, her own unease growing by the second.  “Let’s get outta here.” she said, meeting his yellow eyes with her hazel ones.

“No arguments from me, luv.” Spike turned towards the door, pulling her along with him.  Just as he was about to step through to the porch, his hand fell away from her wrist.  His ax landed with a loud clatter as Spike disappeared through the floor.

Chapter Two

“SPIKE!” Buffy screamed, landing on her knees to peer through the hole in the floor.  Her heart was slamming against her chest, and fear clawed at her belly.  “SPIKE!” she called again.  God, please let him be alright.

“Slayer!” Relief flooded through her at the sound of his pain filled voice.  If he could talk, he’d be fine.

“Are you alright?’

“Yeah.  Except for this bloody piece of wood in my chest!” Fear slammed back into her.

“How close to your heart is it?”

“Close enough I’m afraid to move.”

“Shit.” she hissed.

“My sentiments exactly.”

“Alright.  I’m going to find my way down there.  Try really hard not to move.”

“Stupid, bint.  Of course I’m not going to move.”  Spike muttered.

“I heard that, Fang boy.” Buffy called down to him.

Spike rolled his yellow eyes, then began to assess his injuries.  He was laying on the cold concrete floor, one leg resting on what looked like a trunk.  His other leg and lower torso were piled under debris from the fall, something heavy resting dangerously close to his jewels.

Besides the piece of beam imbedded in his chest, Spike felt another piece buried in his shoulder.  He had smacked his head on the floor, stunning him.  Which was why it had taken him so long to answer Buffy when she’d called him.

Spike wondered if he’d imagined the fearful panic in her voice. *Just a pain induced fantasy* he thought to himself.  After his first attempt at telling her how he felt, Spike had dropped the subject.  He knew she’d never return his feelings, so he’d settled for the friendship that had begun to develop before they defeated Glory.

“Spike?” Buffy’s voice called across the basement.

“Over here, Pet.” He listened as Buffy stumbled her way across the room, not having the benefit of his night vision.  He saw her poke her head around the large sheet covered object he laying next to.

“Hey there.” she said, kneeling down next to him.  She carefully started rifling through his pockets, searching for his lighter.  Spike flinched against the sudden light when Buffy flicked the Zippo.  She leaned closer to his chest, trying to see how close the wood was to his heart.

“Bad?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“No.” she lied, a bright smile on her face.  “Here, hold this.” He slowly raised his hand so he could take the lighter from her.  Buffy wiped her sweaty palms against her denim clad thighs.  She then carefully gripped the wood, bracing a hand against his shoulder.  “On three.”  He made an affirmative sound in his throat, bracing himself.

“One. . .” with one swift pull, it was out.

“Augh! Bloody hell.” Spike cursed, his eyes rolling back in his head.  Buffy ripped a strip off his red shirt, folded it, then pressed it against the wound.

“Let’s get outta here.”  She said, taking the lighter from him and pressing his hand against the makeshift bandage.  She turned and started removing the debris from his body.  Spike reached up and pulled the sliver of wood out of his shoulder with a hiss.  Then he helped Buffy kick off the rest of the plaster and wood.

Buffy helped him to his feet, then wrapped her arm around his waist.  She held the Zippo in front of them so they could pick their way through the boxes and sheet covered furniture.

Buffy blinked back tears as she thought of how close she had come to losing him.  In the last five years she had come to depend on him more than she thought was possible.  When she had a problem, he was the first one she went to.  He could make her laugh when she was upset.  Let her beat on him when she was mad.  Let her know when she was wrong, and told her things she didn’t want to hear.  She never had to pretend when she was with him.  Spike had seen her at her worst, and he never judged her.

He was her partner in every way, save one.  And for the last year or so, she had seriously been thinking about that one.

They made their way up the stairs and through the kitchen to the long hall that led to the foyer.  They both forced themselves not to rush when the open door came into sight, not knowing if there were any more weak spots in the floor.  They had just started to edge around the spot where Spike had fallen through, when the door swung shut with a resounding slam.

“What the. . .” Buffy whispered, leaving Spike’s side to open the door.

“Careful, Slayer.” Spike warned, scanning the room with his yellow eyes.  He wanted out of this house, but he had a feeling that something wanted them to stay.

“I know.” Buffy responded, sounding annoyed.  Holding the light above her head, she carefully made her way around the hole to the door.  She turned the knob and pulled.  The door didn’t budge.  She tried twice more, using her full Slayer strength.  Not even a creak occurred.

Then, Buffy lost her temper.  With all the power in her deceptively small frame, Buffy began to rain a series of hits and kicks against the heavy wood.  It didn’t even leave a scuff mark.

“Pet.” Punch. “Slayer.” Kick. “BUFFY!” Buffy paused mid hit at the sound of her name.

“What?” She turned to Spike, who was smoking a cigarette he’d lit when Buffy had handed him the lighter, prior to her onslaught on the door.

“It’s not going to open.”  Buffy rolled her eyes.

“I figured that out about 5 punches ago.  I was just venting frustration.”  When all he did was raise his scarred eyebrow, Buffy stuck her tongue out at him.

At the sight of her pink tongue, Spike started thinking thoughts he knew better than to be thinking.  Tramping down hard on the desire that coursed through him, he finished smoking his cigarette.

“What’re you doing, Pet?” he asked as she picked up his ax.  Without answering him, she swung around in a wide arc, smashing the ax into the window to the right of the door.  They both watched in shock as the metal of the blade shattered and fell, leaving the window unscathed.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Buffy cried, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Language, Pet.  What would Giles say?’ Spike teased, trying to ease his fear.

“Whatever.” Buffy said, rolling her eyes.  Suddenly, a thought occurred to her.  “Do you have your cell?”

“Bugger.” Spike sighed.  He had totally forgotten about the blasted thing.  He pulled it out, flipped it open and turned it on.  Then began cursing violently when it told him there was no available signal.

“Language, Spike.  What would Giles say?” Buffy repeated, taking the phone from him.

“That you’re a bad influence on me.” Spike countered.  Buffy snorted in response.  Sighing heavily, he closed the phone and slipped it back into his duster pocket.

“You were right.  We shouldn’t of come in here.”  She said, looking around the room.  Now it was Spike’s turn to snort.

“No shit.”

“Yeah.  That helps.” There were two open doors on either side of them, and along hall that led to the kitchen.  A long arched staircase rose to the second level on their right.

“Should we try to find another way out?” She asked, turning to face him.  Spike had pulled the cloth way from his wound, checking to make sure it had stopped bleeding before tossing the piece of shirt away.  Go, go vampire healing, Buffy thought.

“We need to find some candles or something before we use all the fluid up.” Spike said, indicating his lighter.  “Then we should set ourselves up in one of these rooms down here and wait for your mates to come looking for us.”  After 5 years, Spike still said ‘your mates’ when referring to the Scoobies, even though they accepted him.

“I guess it’s as good an idea as any.”  Buffy agreed, walking to the door on her right.  Spike followed her, leaning over her shoulder to scan the room when she paused in the doorway.  It seemed to be some sort of parlor, the furniture sheet covered, and a huge fire place against the back wall.

Every nerve in Buffy’s body tingled when Spike’s chest brushed against her back.  She sucked in a breath at the contact, praying that he didn’t notice, Walking further into the room, Buffy felt Spike’s eyes burning into her back.

*Oh, yeah.  He noticed.  Damn vampire hearing.* she cursed.

Spike watched the petite blonde cross the room.  A slow smile spread across his face as he realized that he hadn’t mistaken her reaction to his nearness.  Her heartbeat had picked up when he’d brushed against her, and he’d heard her gasp. *Could she?  Did she?* he wondered, feeling some of his unease at being trapped slip away.

“Bingo!” she said, walking back to him with a small candelabra.  After lighting the candles, Spike flipped the lighter closed, then slipped the hot metal back into his pocket.  Pulling out a cigarette, he lit it against a candle, then leaned on the doorframe.  Spike blew out a plume of smoke as he looked down at Buffy.  She was staring at him as if she had never seen him before.

“So, Pet.” Spike’s voice practically caressed her as he spoke.  “What shall we do while we wait?”

Buffy blinked a couple of times, trying to break herself out of her stupor.  The candle light played over the sharpness of his face, making him seem even more beautiful than usual.  His voice sounded even more sensual, and Buffy’s mind was screaming at her to do what she had been wanting to do for over a year.

Buffy’s fear of rejection was what finally snapped her back to reality.  Spike hadn’t said the word ‘love’ to her since that night all those years ago.  And she wasn’t about to throw herself at somebody who didn’t want her.

“I don’t know.  I guess sit down and relax.  We haven’t had any down time in a while.” Buffy suggested, shrugging.

“Relax?  In a house that’s doing it’s best to keep us here? Not bloody likely.” Spike muttered, casually smoking his cigarette.

“Well, do you have a better idea?” Buffy snapped, stalking back into the room.  Spike watched the way her ass moved under the snug denim of her jeans as she put the candles down on the couch table.

“One or two.” he purred, as she pulled the dusty sheet off the high back couch.  Buffy paused in her actions as his words sunk in. *Is Spike flirting with me?* she asked herself, turning her eyes to him.  He was leaning against the door frame, relaxed, still smoking.

Spike felt her eyes come to rest on him, and he forced himself to stay still.  He wouldn’t make a move unless she responded.

Spike heard Buffy’s heart pick up again as she continued to stare at him.  A smile quirked his lips as he raised his cigarette for the final drag.

He almost choked on the smoke when the sound of her heartbeat pulsed through his brain.  He could suddenly ‘see’ her blood rushing through her veins, and he knew that it would taste rich and sweet.  A brief image of them naked, Spike draining her as he fucked her slammed into his head.

Spike stepped away from the frame, shaking his head to clear it.

“Spike? You okay?”

“Yeah.”  Spike crushed the cigarette under his boot, feeling shaken by the overpowering bloodlust that had just come over him.

“You sure?” Buffy walked over to him, surprised when he took a step away from her.

“Yeah.  I’m fine.” He gave her a tight smile, then stepped around her into the room.  She watched as he walked over to one of the chairs, pulling the sheet off.  He sank down into it, wearily rubbing his hand over his face.

Buffy stared at him in confusion for a moment, before moving back to the couch.  She sat down, pulled her feet up next to her, then rested her chin in her hand.  After a few minutes, Buffy felt herself drift off.

Chapter Three

Spike watched her as she slept, his mind turning over what had happened.  He hadn’t felt bloodlust that powerful in years.  Not since he first got the chip, and his demon had railed against the electronic leash.  He had obsessed over what he had lost for over a year.  Then he had woken up one day, and realized he was in love with the Slayer.  Wrong on so many levels, but still the best thing that had ever happened to him.  It had calmed the demon, eased the bloodlust.  And ever since Whistler had appeared, promising redemption, Spike had found an inner calm and balance that he hadn’t thought was possible for a demon.

But what had scared him the most about the episode, was the raging hard on he had gotten.  And when she had innocently asked him if he was okay, he’d desperately fought against the urge to make the vision a reality.  He wanted nothing more in that moment than to sink his aching cock and fangs into her warm body.  Hear her screams of pleasure and pain.  Watch as desire and fear warred for dominance in her eyes.

Just thinking about it was making his jeans uncomfortable.

*We need to get out of this house.* he thought.  Spike didn’t know how he knew, but it was the house that had caused his demon to wake up with a vengeance.  Spike closed his eyes, leaning his head against the back of the chair.  He’d stake himself before he hurt her.

“Spike.” his name was a breathless moan on her lips.  He opened his eyes at the sound.  Buffy was now laying across the length of the couch, her head thrown to the side, facing him, and one knee bent and resting against the back of the couch.  Spike’s eyes widened as he watched her hips began to gyrate against the cushions, one hand sliding down to tease her breast, the other going to the apex of her thighs.  She slid her hand across her mound through her jeans.

“Spike.” she whimpered, as her movements became more frantic, desperately seeking her release.

Realization slammed into Spike as the sweet smell of her arousal reached him.  With a moan, he quickly stood and went to her side.  Kneeling beside her, he brought his left hand up to cover hers between her thighs.

Buffy’s eyes flew open at the contact, coming to focus on him.  Embarrassment filled her as she realized that she wasn’t dreaming anymore.  He touched a finger to her lips to keep her silent.

“Let me take care of that for you, luv.” he whispered, lowering his head to capture her erect nipple in his mouth.  Buffy arched her back with a whimper and his cool tongue teased her through her tank top.

“Spike, please.” she gasped, her fingers twining in his soft hair.  With his free hand, he pushed the shirt up, revealing her bare breasts.  He immediately brought his mouth back to her, losing himself in the taste of her skin.

Buffy sucked in air, her fingers tightening in his hair, pushing him closer.  She groaned in disappointment when his lips left her heated skin.

“Don’t worry, Pet.”  He whispered as he began trailing cool kisses across the valley between her breasts.

“Oh, God.” she breathed when his mouth fastened onto her other nipple, giving it the same attention he had given the first.  She tried to move the hand Spike had anchored against her core, growling when he tightened his grip.

“No need to do the work when I’m right here, luv.” he whispered huskily against her skin.

“Promise.” she gasped.  He raised his head from her breast, the heat in his blue eyes searing hers.  He gave her a wolfish grin.

“Promise.  But don’t rush me.  I’ve waited a long time for this.”  Buffy could see the emotions raging through his eyes and wondered how he’d been able to keep them pent up for so long.

“Kiss me.” She demanded.

“With pleasure.”  He leaned forward and captured her lips in the first real kiss they’d shared since Willow’s ‘My Will Be Done’ spell all those years before.  Buffy tugged her hand from Spike’s and buried both her hands in his soft hair.  She parted her lips, sucking his tongue into her mouth to battle with hers.  God, she wanted to devour him, and she pulled him closer.  The roughness of his shirt scraped across her nipples, causing her to whimper helplessly.

Buffy’s shaking fingers traveled away from his hair down to his shoulders.  She began plucking at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin.  Spike broke away from her long enough to shrug out of the red shirt, then pulled his t-shirt over his head.  Buffy sat up and turned quickly.  Spike stopped her before she could slip off the couch and into his lap.

Huffing in frustration, Buffy glared at him.  Spike chuckled as he raised himself up on his knees and gently pushed her back against the cushions.  Leaning forward, he blazed a trail of fire with his tongue, lips and teeth from her collar bone to the snap of her jeans.  A fine sheen of sweat broke out across her skin when she felt his teeth graze her abdomen.  Her nails raked across his shoulders as he used his mouth to open her jeans.  He brought his hands up to the waist band and Buffy arched her hips so he could pull them away from her flushed body.

He stopped to pull off her shoes and socks, then pulled the denim and the scrap of lace she called underwear the rest of the way off.

Spike sat back on his heels for a moment.  His eyes ran over every curve, memorizing the body he’d dreamed about for five years.

“Spike?”  Buffy gasped, her tone pleading.  Spike eyes burned into hers as he raised her leg up, brushing his lips against her ankle.  With alternating licks and bites, Spike worked his way down her leg, eliciting a series of gasps and moans from her.

“God dammit, Spike.” she growled when he bypassed her aching center to work his way up her other leg.  “I’m dyin’ here.” she finished, her hands clenching and unclenching on the couch.  Spike placed on final kiss on her leg, then placed her foot on the floor.

“Can’t have that, now can we?”  Then his hands were under her butt, raising her up to meet his demanding mouth.  Buffy reared up as his tongue dove between her slick folds.  He explored every inch of her with his tongue, sliding inside her to lap at the juices pooled there.

Buffy felt as if she was on the verge of shattering as he made love to her with his mouth.  A years worth of fantasies didn’t even come close to the reality.  When she felt the tip of his tongue swipe across her throbbing clit, her fingers buried themselves in his hair, pushing him closer.

“Oh, God.” she sobbed, as she felt him push two fingers in her and stroke her in a slow rhythm.  “Ohgodohgodohgod.” she chanted, her chest heaving in ragged pants, her hips bucking wildly beneath him.  With a shriek of his name, her entire body tensed as her orgasm crashed through her.  Spike sucked hard on her sensitive nubbin, drawing out her climax until she was a quivering mass of nerve endings.

Spike raised his head and looked into her dazed eyes.  He gently tugged her arms, sliding her into his lap.  Buffy immediately wrapped her arms around his neck, crushing her mouth to his.  Spike pulled her tightly to him, moaning as she ground her heat against his denim covered erection.  He didn’t realize that his demon had surged forward until the taste of her blood filled his mouth.  With a growl, he sucked hard on her tongue, causing her to whimper.

Bright, erotic images of Buffy lying back on the couch, blood pouring out of her neck as he pounded into her flashed behind his eyes.  His now clawed hands raked down her back, causing her to cry out in pain.  That sound, mixed with the smell of her blood broke through his haze.  In one swift move, Spike shoved Buffy back onto the couch and back peddled away from her.

Chapter Four

Spike didn’t stop until his bare back hit the chair he had been sitting in.  Drawing his knees up to his chest, he rested his elbows on them and shoved both hands into his hair.  He pulled hard, welcoming the pain as he fought to control his demon.

Buffy sat on the couch, staring at Spike with huge eyes.  The gashes on her back stung like hell, but she could already feel them starting to heal.  She hadn’t been surprised when his demon had come forward.  She was the Slayer after all.  That and the Vampire mating ritual book her and Willow used to sneak from Giles’.  What surprised her was the force in which she was thrown away from him.  And the fight he having trying to force the demon back.  Buffy had never seen him unable to control that part of him.  Even before the chip, Spike was aware of every move he made.

“Spike?”

“Not yet, Buffy.” Spike said, his voice hoarse with strain.  His human mask was in place, but he could still feel the demon clawing at him, fighting to come to the surface.  By sheer force of will, he pushed it back.

“Spike, what’s the matter?” Buffy asked, sensing the minute he was back in control.  Spike flinched at the slight sound of apprehension in her voice.  With a sigh, he reached behind him, grabbing his duster to get his cigarettes.  He waited until after his first drag before looking at her.  Buffy was sitting with her knees pulled up to her naked breasts, her arms banded tightly around her legs.  Her eyes were as big as saucers as she looked at him, waiting for his answer.

“Are you hurt bad, luv?” his voice was rough and apologetic.

“I’ll be fine.” she answered.  “What happened?”

“I dunno.” Spike took a long drag of his cigarette, and noticed his hands were still shaking.  “I have NEVER vamped without knowing it.  Not since I was fledgling, anyway.” He paused for another drag, struggling to find the words.  “And then we were kissing and I guess you sliced your tongue on my fang.”  Buffy nodded, she remembered feeling the sting.  “Your blood filled my mouth, and all of a sudden, this picture of you, bleeding, your eyes all glazed from the loss of blood, with me fucking you slammed into my head.  And that’s when I scratched you.  I didn’t even realize what I’d done until I heard you cry out.  That’s when I pushed you away.”

“Was I dead?” Buffy whispered.

“No.  Not yet.  And the pisser is, it’s not like I haven’t dreamt of biting you.  Claiming you and making you mine in the very vampiric meaning of the word.  But I have never thought of death and sex together.  I’ve never slept with somebody I wanted to kill.” He paused a moment, considering.  “Well, maybe Harmony.”  Buffy couldn’t help it, she had to chuckle.  “And I never put the two together when I think of you.”

“Is that why you looked so out of it before?  When we first came in this room.  Did it happen then?”  Spike nodded  his head as he smashed out his cigarette, throwing it in the cold fireplace.

“Pet, put your clothes on.”  He couldn’t continue with her looking so tempting.  Spike averted his eyes as she stood to comply.

“All dressed.  Now, what do you think is causing this?”  Buffy asked, slipping his t-shirt over her tank top.  She immediately gained comfort from his scent.  The thought of Spike claiming her as his mate sent a pleasant tingle up her spine.

Spike turned back to her, a smile touching his lips at the sight of her in his shirt.

“Well, it started after we came in here.  I’d say it’s this house.”

“And we’re stuck in here.”  Buffy mumbled, looking around the parlor.  Pictures of what Spike had described to her flashed behind her eyes.  They were repulsive and exciting at the same time. *God, what is wrong with me.  I get the tinglies at the thought of Spike killing me while we’re. . .majorly wiggy.* Buffy thought.

“I’m sorry.” Spike whispered.  “The last thing I want to do is hurt you.  You know that, don’t you, Sweetheart?

“Yes.”  Relief flooded through him at her quiet answer.  Spike rested his head against the chair and replayed the incident in his head.  He ignored the tightening of his jeans as he remembered Buffy, naked and flushed, and concentrated on trying to figure out when he’d lost control.  It had been so ingrained in him to keep tight control on it, especially after the chip. . .  Spike’s eyes widened in horror as realization washed over him.

“Bloody hell.”

“What?” Buffy asked, looking back at him.

“Buffy,” Spike started, his eyes stricken.  “You have to promise me something.” He sprang to his feet and began to pace the room.  “Will you?”

“You have to tell me what it is first.”

“If it happens again. . .   If I can’t control it. . .” he paused, turning to face her, blue eyes burning into hazel.  “Stake me.”

“Spike, I. . .”

“Pet, listen.  I hurt you.  The chip DID. NOT.  GO.  OFF.”  Buffy’s heart slammed into her chest at his words.  How could they not have noticed?  She knew it still worked.  Just last week he’d accidentally clipped her when she’d came up behind him during a fight.  They’d both hit the ground moaning in pain.  Why wasn’t it working now?

“Buffy.” she brought her eyes back to his.  “Promise me.”

“No.”

“Dammit, woman.  If anything happens to you because of me, I’m dust anyway.  I’d do it myself, or one of the Scoobies would do it for me.” He knelt in front of her, gripping her hands tightly.  “You have to protect yourself from me.”  Spike finished quietly.

“Don’t ask me to do that.” Buffy said, her eyes filling with tears.  She’d rather die than kill another man she loved.  Memories of shoving that sword through Angel and watching him get sucked into Hell filled her mind, causing the tears to fall.  Spike reached up an wiped them away gently, his mouth forming a grim line.

“Buffy. . “ Spike began.

“NO!” Buffy shot off the couch, pulling her hands from his grip.  “I won’t do that again.”  She began to pace, mimicking Spike’s movements from moments before.  “Can’t we just. . .tie you up, or something, until the others come?”  Spike looked at her doubtfully, but nodded his head.

“Alright luv.” he said quietly.  “Don’t let me hurt you.” he pleaded, sitting in the chair as Buffy began ripping the sheets into strips.

“I won’t.” Buffy promised, tightly wrapping the bindings around his wrist and the wooden arms of the chair.  Neither really thought it would hold him long if the demon came out to play.  But it would at least give Buffy a chance to subdue him or run.  When she finished binding his ankles to the legs, she settled herself back on the couch.

“You know,” Buffy began, a purely feminine smile on her face.  “Under different circumstances, this could be fun.”  Spike returned her smile, cocking his head to the side.

“Never pegged you for the bondage type, Pet.” he replied, capturing his bottom lip between his teeth.  Buffy raised a shoulder in a careless shrug.

“I’m full of surprises.”

“I’ll just bet you are.”

Chapter Five

Spike watched Buffy as she dozed off again.  She had been fighting it for a while, closing her eyes and then jerking awake again.  They’d talked a little, about Dawn’s new boyfriend and how she was doing in school.  About some spell Willow and Tara had found that would turn vampires to stone.  Spike made a mental note not to get on their bad side.  But finally, fatigue and boredom took over, and Buffy drifted into sleep.

Spike leaned his head back on the chair and stared at the cracked ceiling.  Now that he had nothing to distract him, he couldn’t ignore the beat of her heart, the pulsing of her blood.

*I told her I didn’t want to come into this bloody house.* Spike thought. *Maybe next time the stupid bint’ll listen to me.*

Spike shook his head, trying to clear out the thoughts that had been increasing in regularity in the hours they had been waiting.  He could feel his demon clawing around inside, waiting for Spike to be weak enough to let him out.  It was taking all Spike’s energy to keep it at bay, and he feared that soon, he wouldn’t be able to.

Spike raised his head and looked over at the blond Slayer.

*Cor, she’s so bloody beautiful.  I can’t believe she was dreamin’ about me.  Wanted me to touch her.  Taste her.  God, she tasted so sweet.  And her blood. . .* Spike moaned, deep in his chest as his cock surged to life again.  He closed his eyes and tried to maneuver himself to alleviate the pressure.

“Shit.” he hissed.  Spike opened his eyes, his gaze resting on her again.  He ran his tongue over his fangs, again not realizing he had vamped.  His yellow eyes stared at her sleeping form, an image of crawling over her body, ripping the clothes away from her tan flesh rippled through his mind.  He moaned again as the fantasy unfolded.

*His clawed hands raked lightly across her flesh, raising bloody welts.  His lips and fangs traveled over her breasts and abdomen, his tongue lapping at the blood that was flowing freely from the gashes he’d made.  He felt his power seeping into him as he grazed his fangs lower on her shuddering body.  He heard her moan of pain induced lust as her legs fell open, displaying her blood engorged sex to him.  Spike’s fangs cut her outer lips as he buried his mouth in her snatch, eagerly lapping the combination of her blood and juices.  Her hips thrust against his mouth, causing his fangs and tongue to plunge deeper into her.

A shriek of pain exploded from her as she started to struggle.  One clawed hand pressed against her, holding her down as he drank from her.  Her desperate movements inflamed him more, and Spike violently pulled her off the couch, forcing her to her knees as he thrust into her from behind.  He reached around her body and gripped her breasts, his claws causing more of her blood to spill.  He hauled her against him, sinking his fangs deep into her throat, his pelvis slapping hard against her buttocks.  He growled deep in his throat as he drained her.  Spike’s cock surged within her just as Buffy went limp and lifeless in his arms.  He tore his fangs from his throat, her blood staining his mouth and chin.  With a howl of triumph, Spike let her body slump to the floor.


Chapter Six

Spike’s eyes snapped open and he looked at the peacefully sleeping Slayer.  He drew in several deep unneeded breaths, trying to calm himself.

*Get a grip, mate.  These aren’t the thoughts of a vampire seeking redemption.* He told himself.  He desperately needed a cigarette, but not as much as he needed to get out of this soddin’ house!

Her blood was calling him again, and he knew it would only take a flick of his wrists to be free.  Only a quick twist of his ankles to be able to walk over to her and take her.

Spike gripped the arms of the chair, fighting the blood lust that was coursing through him.

Redemption.  What the bloody fuck was he bothering for?  Why the fuck should he care?  He was a God damned demon.  Evil fucking undead.  She’s probably loving this.  Him being all poofy and broody like Angel.  Bitch.  Who did she think she was?  Thinkin’ he was going to be her lap dog.  He’d rip her throat out and bathe in her blood.  Fucking roll in it.

Spike shook his head violently, whimpering in despair.  He fought against the urge to snap his bonds.  Whistler had told him if he stayed on the right path, his blood lust would stop.  He still needed violence, but he wouldn’t look at humans as happy meals with legs anymore.  Well, Spike had done his part, now where the fuck was his divine help?  Ran off and left him the second they stepped into this house.

Spike felt like his mind was shattering into a thousand different pieces, and he couldn’t get it put back together fast enough to push the demon back.  The blonde vampire blinked back tears as he clung to his sanity.  He couldn’t tell how long they’d been there, but he hoped Giles would show soon.  Or Xander.  Or any of them.  Anybody that could get them out of this damn house.  Hell, he’d probably give Angel a big, old, wet snog if he’d let them out.

*Yeah, let them all come.  Kill all them Wankers.  Teach ‘em not to treat the Big Bad like a pet vamp.  Yeah, especially that damned whelp.  Fucking play jump rope with his intestines.  Maybe use his eyeballs for dice.  And that blonde demon of his. Now she was a hot piece.   Spike’d have a real good time with her.* A slow demonic smile spread across his face as he thought of what he would do to Anya.  She liked kinky sex.  He’d show her kink.  He’d do things to her she never even dreamed of as a vengeance demon.

He sat there for a minute, his mind lost in the images of pain and blood that he would bring to all the Scoobies.  But it was the image of him, Dawn and Buffy involved in a bloody menage trois that brought Spike reeling back to reality.

*Ohgodohgodohgod.*

“Buffy!”  Spike hissed, his voice raw.  The blonde Slayer stirred, her eyes slowly opening.  She looked over at Spike, coming fully alert at the sight of him.  In the dim candle light, she could see his face rippling between his demon and human faces.    His fingers were splintering the wood of the arms of the chair.  Tears streamed down his face, unheeded.  Tension and fear radiated of his rigid body in waves.

“Spike?” Buffy questioned, rising into a sitting position.

“Stake me.” He pleaded, his blue eyes flashing yellow as he looked at her.  She slowly shook her head, causing Spike to growl.  “Do your fucking job, Slayer!  I. CAN”T. HOLD. ON!”

“NO! I told you, I won’t do it again.  I’ll fight you if I have to, but I.  WILL. NOT. KILL.  YOU.”  Buffy said, getting to her feet.  Spike lowered his head, tension shaking his lean form.  Suddenly, he stilled.  Buffy took a step towards him, stifling a squeal when his head popped up.

Buffy stared at the ridged form of his demonic visage, icy fear skating up her spine.  But it was the yellow of his eyes that caused the hard knot of dread to form in her stomach.  She hadn’t been afraid of this side of him in years, because one look in his eyes and she knew it was still Spike.  The teasing light would still be in them.  But looking in them now, Buffy knew Spike was gone.  They were cold, and hard, and flat.  The only thing shining in them was the lust for her blood.

Buffy watched in horror as the demon in Spike’s form casually ripped the sheets binding his wrists.  She couldn’t seem to convince herself to move as he reached down with clawed hands to rip away the restraints on his ankles.  She managed to back up a step as he slowly came to his feet, leisurely stretching.  He turned to look at her, a smirk on his face.

He rubbed his palm across his hard stomach, his head tilted to the side as his eyes roamed over her petite body.  He curled his tongue around his fang, causing an involuntary shudder to wrack through her.  Buffy stood frozen in shock as he took a step towards her.  He closed the distance between them, gripping her arms painfully.  Buffy still couldn’t move.  He yanked her against his chest, a disgusted leer on his face.

“Didn’t think you’d go down this easy.”  The demon growled.

Buffy whimpered as she saw her death in his eyes.  The demon blinked, his grip loosening a bit.  Suddenly, Buffy was looking into the blue, panic filled gaze of the man she loved.

“Run, luv.  RUN!”  Spike pushed her away from him, finally spurring Buffy out of her daze.  With Slayer speed and lightening reflexes, Buffy took off just as Spike’s head snapped up, demon firmly in place.  It’s nostrils flared as Buffy disappeared into the dark house.  A slow, feral smile spread across its face as the chase began.

Walking over to the couch, it bent and retrieved the red shirt and duster, sliding them on as it anticipated the hunt.

It's third Slayer.  The most powerful one ever.  It couldn’t wait.

With Spike’s cocky swagger, the demon strode out of the parlor.  It paused at the bottom of the stairs, stretching out its’ senses to find her.  It chuckled, deep in its’ chest as it pinpointed the direction she’d run.

It turned and started up the stairs, humming as it climbed.  Its’ movements were slow, not feeling the need to hurry.  It had all the time in the world.

“Buuuufffy” It called in a sing song voice.  The demon’s yellow eyes scanned the upper landing, picking out the furniture, seeking the doors.

“Oh, Slayer.  You know I can feel you.”  It called in the same sing song voice, as it tried doors, opening them, then slamming them closed.  Of course, it already knew where she was.  Her heartbeat betrayed her.  But it didn’t want to find her to quickly, or her blood wouldn’t be as sweet with fear.

This Slayer would be the best.  The other two had wanted to die.  But Buffy. . .she wanted to live.  Was almost desperate with her need for it.  It almost purred at the thought of her death.

Chapter Seven

Buffy couldn’t believe that she was hiding in a closet.  How *Halloween* could she get?  She suppressed a shriek when she heard the door slam down the hall.

*Shit, shit, shit!* her mind screamed.  Buffy knew he was playing with her.  The demon thrived on the taste of fear.

Buffy bit her lip hard as another door slammed. *This is Angel all over again.* she thought.  Only Spike didn’t have a soul to lose.  And it was the house causing the demon to have full control.

*Why didn’t I listen to him?  Note to self- when a vampire says ‘I’m not goin’ in there’ listen to him and haul ass in the opposite direction!*

Buffy stiffened as her Slayer sense kicked into overdrive.  He was outside the door to the room she was in. *Here we go* she thought.  She curled her hand around the doorknob and prepared to slam it against him when he found her.  He had and advantage over her, his night vision.  All Buffy could rely on was the training that Giles had made her do while blind folded.  Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Buffy waited.

Now he was in the room.  She hadn’t heard the door open, but she felt him.  She always knew when Spike was near.

Slowly, it stalked towards the closet door, deeply breathing in the scent of her fear.  A chuckle rumbled deep in its’ chest as it envisioned her blood pumping from her body.  The feeling of her warmth leaving her skin as he pumped himself in her.  He gently stroked his erection through his jeans as he made his way around the bed to the door.  Slowly, it reached it’s hand out and grasped the knob.

“Let’s see what’s hiding behind door number one.” It mumbled, a grin curling it’s mouth.

Buffy tensed as she felt the door knob start to turn.  Pressing her body close to the wood, she prepared to spring.  Following the swinging motion as it open, she threw her weight against it and slammed it into his body.  A growl escaped it's throat as it was forced backwards.  Scrambling across the bed, Buffy made for the door, then let out a yelp as it grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her back against him.

“Shh.  Don’t be scared, luv.” It whispered, running its’ cool tongue along the outer shell of her ear.  “I won’t hurt you.”  His lips were now on her throat.  “Much.”

Buffy cursed to herself as she felt her body responding to his touch.  These were still Spike’s hands caressing her through her clothes.  Still Spikes’ mouth teasing her bare flesh.  Still his voice whispering seductively in her ear.

“Spike, please.  I know a part of you is still in there.”  Buffy hated the way her voice trembled.  Despised the way the demon could make her body shiver.  A part of her was wanting the dark pleasures that it was promising.

“This is a part of me, pet.  The part you won’t accept.”  It growled.

“That’s bull shit.”  Her traitorous body arched into him when his fang grazed her throat, it’s cool tongue lapping at the precious fluid.  Her heart was pounding in her chest with fear and desire.

“You know you want it, Slayer.  The release that only I can give you.  The pain and the pleasure.  Your death will feel so good, baby.” Its’ arm was banded tightly around her waist, pinning her arms to her sides as its’ other hand roamed freely on her body, caressing her roughly.  She whimpered in response as pictures of their first and final mating filled her head.  It revolted and excited her at the same time, causing her juices to flow as its’ hand rubbed her most sensitive spot through her jeans.  Her hips moved on their own accord, and as his fangs pierced her flesh she came with a scream, slumping back against his cool body.  It retracted its’ fangs from her throat, its’ tongue drawing patterns in her blood.

“I want to be in you when you die, Slayer.  I want to feel you around me when the life leaves your eyes and you succumb to the dark,  feeling the most pleasure you’ve ever felt.”  Buffy closed her eyes as the soft purr of its’ voice spun its web around her.  She was lost and on some level she knew it.  The part of her that she always denied wanted what he was offering.  She pressed her ass against his hard cock, making it purr at her acceptance of the inevitable.

“BUFFY!”  Dawn’s voice jolted Buffy out of her haze, and panic set in as she realized what she had been about to do.  She felt Spike tense behind her, the hands that had traveled to her arms gripping them painfully.  She felt him shudder then heard his soft voice.

“Nibblet?”  In the instant, she knew it was Spike.  Slayer instincts kicking in, Buffy kicked back with her foot, connecting painfully with his shin.  It growled as its’ grip loosened, and she pulled out of his hands, turning to face him.  As quick as he had surfaced, Spike was pushed back, and Buffy stared into the angry yellow eyes of his demon.

“They’re too late, girl.  I will have you.”  That’s when he launched.  Buffy dodged its’ arm and shot her foot out again.  The demon howled as she connected with its’ groin.

With a grimace and a mumbled “Sorry, Spike.”  Buffy tore out the door while it was still on its’ knees.

“DAWN.  GET THE DOOR OPEN!” She screamed, flying down the stairs.

“WE’RE TRYING!” Came the reply through the thick wood.  Buffy skidded to a stop, barely missing the hole in the floor.  With a growl, the demon jumped over the railing from the second floor.  Landing in a crouch behind her, it poised to strike.

“TRY HARDER!”  She managed to get out as it tackled her, pulling her painfully to the ground.

“GILES!” she heard Dawn scream as she desperately tried to throw the blonde vampire off.  Her foot connected with the table by the door, sending it and the vase on top of it crashing to the floor.  Buffy managed to twist beneath him, sending a punch to his face.  Its’ head snapped back and she shoved against it, sending it flying away from her.  The demon crashed against the jamb opposite them as a hacking sound began on the door.

“BUFFY, WE’LL BE THROUGH IN A MINUTE!”  Dawn screamed.

“HURRY!”  Buffy grabbed the table just as the demon rushed her again, swinging it around at his head.  At the last second it ducked, grabbing the table and using her momentum to swing her around.  She landed against the wall with a thud, cracking the plaster.  Buffy’s breath left her body at the impact, and she leaned helplessly against it, stunned.

“Time’s up.” It snarled, stalking towards her.  It seized her by her shoulders, pulling her to the middle of the room.

With a loud thump, the front door flew open, smashing against the inside wall.  The demons’ head whipped around, momentarily distracted from its’ prey.  That moment was all Buffy needed.  Bringing her arms up, she broke its hold on her, hissing as its’ claws scraped her flesh.  With a rapid series of punches to its’ face, Buffy drove Spike towards the door.

“MOVE!” she screamed, and Dawn and Giles scrambled to get out of the way.  With a final, powerful kick to the center of his chest, Buffy sent Spike flying through the door, off the porch and into the overgrown grass of the lawn.

“Buffy, what the HELL are you doing?”  Dawn asked, starting down the steps towards Spike.  Buffy quickly grabbed her arm, hauling her sister back onto the porch.

“Er, Buffy.” Giles started, looking down at the vampire’s unconscious form.  “What happened?”

“Yeah.  Why the hell are you kicking the shit out of Spike?” Dawn demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.  Ignoring them both, Buffy stepped off the porch and approached Spikes’ still form.  Kneeling cautiously next to him, she gripped the arm of his duster and hauled him onto his back.  Buffy frowned when she saw he was still vamped.

“Buffy?” The Slayer raised her eyes to rest on Giles’ confused face.  “Why were you fighting with Spike?”

Still not answering, Buffy’s gaze drifted past the two that were looking at her expectantly, to the house.  A sudden and fierce desire to destroy overtook her.  Quickly rummaging through Spike’s pockets, she pulled out his lighter.  Standing, she stripped off the black t-shirt and walked back onto the porch.  With one last look at the place that had almost destroyed them, she brought the flame to the edge of the shirt, then threw it inside.  With a grim smile, Buffy slammed the door and walked back to Spike.

“Let’s go.’  She told them, as she pulled Spike over her shoulder.  The three walked to Giles’ car, not looking back as a sound close to a scream of pain filled the night air.