Chapter 10
The next two days went about the same as the first, with Buffy growing even more disgusted and frustrated with the ease of her opponents. Weapons had been introduced during the second day, so the three vampires she had faced had been ridiculously easy.
Buffy had complained loudly, trying to figure out why Faith’s opponents had been tougher, bigger, stronger. Spike had told her not to look a gift horse in the mouth. The Slayer had just rolled her eyes at the tired old cliché slipping off his tongue.
As Buffy’s frustration grew, Spike’s unease did to. He didn’t understand why Lucas was playing with her. Unless he WANTED her to advance to the final round. And Spike shuddered to think what he had in store for her there.
By the third day, Buffy didn’t even bother with her usual sarcasm. She just went in, kicked ass, and left. The final demon of the day actually proved to be tough. It was a mind reading, shape shifter. It was called a Mirror demon, since its real name was impossible for anyone outside its race to say.
It was small, barely coming up to Buffy’s shoulders, with sickly green skin and a large skull. It reminded her of what those alien abduction people said there captors looked like. Shrugging, she advanced on it, managing to keep her wits when it morphed into Angel, then Spike. When it realized that her feelings for the blonde vampire were opposite of what it wanted, it searched her mind again, briefly morphing into Xander. She just kept up her attack, as it searched for a form that would break her concentration. She just reminded herself that it was all an illusion.
Realizing that the current form of Jonathon wasn’t working, it shifted again. This time, Buffy did falter, as Jonathan’s features melted into Willow’s. The demon took the opening, landing several surprisingly strong blows. Buffy landed against the cage near Spike. Instantly, he was next to her, yelling at her to remember that she was fighting a demon, and not the witch.
Buffy shook her head to clear it, and stood. She let Spike’s voice anchor her as she fought back, sending the demon flying to the opposite side of the cage. Then, it did something REALLY stupid.
A slow, feral smile spread across her face as the demon turned from Willow, to a much blonder, more loud mouthed figure.
“Anya,” she growled, as she leapt across the battlefield. It realized its mistake almost immediately, but it was too late to morph again. Spike flinched when Buffy’s triumphant howl filled the air. He cringed involuntarily as her tiny fist swung with great abandon to pummel the fabricated face of the vengeance demon. He was suddenly very glad that he was on the outside of the cage, when Buffy leaned over the fallen demon and twisted its head clear off its body. She tossed the blonde head, carelessly away, as its face melted back into that of a mirror demon.
When he stepped through the gate to join her, his gasp was audible when she grabbed the lapels of his duster and slammed him against the wall.
“If you EVER so much as LOOK at another woman as long as I am alive, you’ll go from lusty to dusty in less time than it takes me to blink. Got it?” she growled, a lethal glint flashing in her eyes.
“Absofuckinglutely.” He replied, biting back a smile at the seething jealousy pouring off her. Neither heard the crowd go wild when she crashed her mouth against his in a hard kiss. Spike was just getting into it when she pulled away, and hauled him back into the tunnel.
“Mmmm.” Buffy purred as Spike’s strong fingers kneaded the flesh of her thighs.
When they had gotten back to the room, Buffy had thrown him on the bed and practically raped him. If it’s possible to rape the willing, that is. Afterwards, they lay wrapped around each other, both panting heavily. Buffy suddenly realized that rough sex was probably NOT what she needed right then. Every muscle in her body was screaming in agony from over exertion.
Spike had rolled her over and started to rub the offending muscles until they relaxed. He was currently contemplating the smooth curve of her back, while his fingers slid expertly over her flesh.
“Buffy. . .” he started, not sure how to say what he wanted to say. The violence she’d dealt to the fake Anya let him know in screaming neon letters that she was still a bit ticked about his little drunken tete de tete.
“Mm?” came her mumbled reply.
“I’m sorry. . .for. . ah. . .you know. That thing with Anya,” he said quickly, holding his nonexistent breath. She was quiet for a long moment, making him think she had fallen asleep. Then, she turned her head to look at him.
“I know,” she said simply, forgiveness and even a hint of understanding swimming in her eyes. Spike nodded his head once, his eyes staring intently at the skin under his fingers. With a small chuckle, she laid her head back down, a smile playing across her lips.
The next morning, Buffy woke up with an edgy feeling. Nothing seemed off, as far as she could tell. Spike was spooned against her, his firm body pressed tightly against hers, his face buried in her hair. Nothing different there. The sunlight was streaming through the window, as usual.
Buffy tried to ignore the feeling, and snuggled closer to Spike, but it just wouldn’t go away. About ten minutes past before she finally gave up and slipped out of bed.
“Whassa matter, pet?” Spike murmured sleepily. Buffy turned and looked at him, a soft smile on her lips. His long blond tresses fell across his cheek, partially obscuring the one bright, blue eye he had opened. Returning to the bed, she slid up next to him and rested her head against his shoulder.
“I dunno,” she replied, pushing his hair away from his face. “I feel. . .restless. Edgy. Like something is about to happen. I just can’t tell if it’s going to be good or bad.” She tucked her hand under her chin and smiled at him. “With my luck, it will definitely be of the bad.”
Spike chuckled and turned onto his back, so he could run his fingers through her silky, dark tresses.
“I don’t know about that, luv. Your luck seems to be pretty good right now,” he purred, his cocky smile firmly in place. Buffy rolled her eyes, then placed a kiss on his stomach.
“I love you.” She said softly, her eyes turning serious. Spike’s brows drew together at her tone.
“I love you, too. You sure you’re alright?” He brushed the backs of his knuckles across her cheek.
“Yeah. I just wanted to make sure you knew.” She let out a very unwarrior like squeak when she found herself pinned under him.
“Talk is cheap. Actions speaks louder than words.” His eyes sparkled with laughter as he looked down at her, pleased to see the pensive look slip away.
“God, you’re insatiable,” she said through her laughter.
“You better bloody believe it,” he growled, pressing the evidence against her. Spike lowered his head towards her, watching her eyes darken with desire. Her fingers came up to gently tug on the ends of his hair.
“You going to kiss me, or just hover?” Buffy asked when he didn’t close the distance. He quirked his brow, his teeth capturing his bottom lip.
“I thought, I’d do this,” he whispered huskily, his fingers skimming over the bare skin of her thigh. Her sigh turned into another squeal when, instead of continuing the caress, his cool fingers began to mercilessly tickle her. She tried to struggle beneath him, but he was nestled securely between her thighs, and her arms were trapped between them.
“Stop, stop!” she pleaded, her voice breathless from laughing. He was grinning at her, becoming more aroused by the second as her warm, naked body writhed beneath his. A sound between a gasp and a giggle escaped her as he plunged into her hot, wet core without warning. His torturous fingers never eased their assault as he pumped into her, long and hard, his teeth grazing her neck.
The sensations of being tickled and fucked at the same time were too much for Buffy, and she sky rocketed over the edge, his name a laughter filled scream on her lips. Her body was still shaking from the force of her orgasm, and giggles, when she suddenly found herself on her stomach, his arm around her waist, pulling her to her knees. Spike replaced his aching cock with is fingers, getting them slick with her juices.
“Oh, God.” Buffy moaned, when he felt his wet tongue invade her anal passage, knowing what was coming next. Spike worked her twin holes until she was whimpering and begging him to fuck her again. Then, he raised himself up and removed his fingers from her dripping cunt, driving his cock deep inside. At the same time, he plunged one, then two fingers into her waiting ass, growling at the high keening sound that filled the air.
Spike’s eyes rolled back in his head as she pounded back against him, forcing him to drive deeper within her.
“Oh, God. Oh, fuck,” she moaned, the pain tinged pleasure making her spiral into her second orgasm. She pushed back against him as hard as she could, her vaginal and anal muscles clenching ruthlessly around him, sending him over into oblivion with her. As the tremors over took him, he hauled her up against him and buried his fangs in her shoulder, drinking deep the sweet nectar of her blood. A third orgasm overtook her as she was still riding the waves of the second, a sob ripping from her throat at the intensity.
Spike retracted his fangs from her skin, and his hand slid away from her ass and around her to gently cup her breast.
“I love you, Buffy,” he whispered against her shoulder.
“I love you.” she replied as they sank bonelessly to the bed.
When Buffy and Spike entered the arena, they both felt the charge in the air. Something big was going to happen, but neither knew what.
“Be careful.” Spike told her before stepping through the gate. Buffy nodded and took a deep breath, the edginess that had been with her all day increasing with each step she took. She paced restlessly inside the cage, her eyes darting to the gate opposite her.
Spike mirrored her movements outside, except his eyes came to rest on Lucas. The smile on his face would have made Spike’s blood run cold if it were possible.
A growl reverberated through the air at the same time a familiar scent hit his nose. Spike’s head whipped around towards the cage in time to see Buffy’s body go rigid. Suddenly, memory triggered where he recognized the scent from. It had been all over Red the time he’d kidnapped her and the whelp. And even more so when he had come back the second time.
Confirmation came when Buffy’s weak, shock filled voice reached him.
“Oz.”