Double Spiked

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Total Chapters: 22

When the nerdy trio delves into time travel, Buffy is faced with two Spikes at once. Will she be able to resist?

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Author’s Notes: OK, the inspiration for this story came from a challenge I read a long time ago somewhere on the Internet. I have long since forgotten where, or I would gladly credit whoever gave it. Anyway, I don’t exactly remember the details of the challenge, but the one thing that stuck in my mind was: 2nd season Spike meets 6th season Spike and they both get it on with Buffy at the same time. Can you see why this stuck in my dirty little mind? Ah, the wonderful possibilities… Two Spikes at once… *Drool* Huh? What? OK, I’m better now. So, whoever issued this challenge, thanks much and you rock! And for you kiddies that haven’t figured it out yet, this is major NC-17. So scram unless you’re ready for two naked Spikes… (Yes, I do know that will just cause everyone to continue reading. ~_^)

Setting: Another of those infamous post-‘Gone’ stories…


Chapter 1: To Defeat a Slayer…

The hard shove sent Buffy flying backwards onto the mattress. Instantly she found herself pinned down by strong, muscular arms. She made several feeble attempts at escape, but the hands held her shoulders firmly to the bed.

She was quickly becoming more and more aware of the masculine body on top of her. Her captor allowed his full weight to rest upon her, knowing both that he wouldn’t crush her due to her Slayer strength and that if he didn’t use his weight to his advantage, he wouldn’t be able to hold her down for the very same reason. If she tried to fight him, that was. Right now fighting him was the furthest thing from Buffy’s mind.

Instead, she was entranced by the gaze that met hers. How often had those eyes held her with their power and intensity? And now she found herself absolutely helpless and at their mercy.

Slowly, the face above her moved closer, those brilliant eyes never breaking contact for an instant, not giving her the chance to escape. She felt her body temperature begin to rise as she looked into the dark, deep passion of those eyes.

And then his lips brushed hers.

It was a gentle touch at first, as light as the flutter of a butterfly’s wings. She panted desperately when the lips moved away. And then they were upon hers in full force. She felt that they were curved in a smile at her demonstration of need. A low moan escaped the back of her throat at his smile, and she eagerly parted her lips, allowing his tongue to thrust deep inside her mouth. Without hesitation she joined it with her own, and the two intertwined in an erotic dance.

She found her arms free as his hands wrapped around her body, pulling her deeper into their kiss. She took full advantage of this, gliding her nails up and down his muscular back, into his silken hair, back down his spine…

She suddenly became aware of the fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. At precisely this moment, one of his hands came forward to knead her breast, indicating that her shirt had vanished as well. In fact, she now realized that they were fully naked, still locked in that passionate kiss…

Reluctantly, Buffy pulled away, her head falling back against the silk sheets as she gasped for air. Her eyelids fluttered open, and somewhere within the haze of her desire she tried to remember when exactly she had shut them.

The question soon became moot as they snapped shut once again at the feeling of his mouth upon her breast. Soft whimpers passed by her lips as her sensitive nerves were assaulted by that oh-so-skillful mouth. He nipped and sucked at her milky white flesh, and she laced her fingers in his hair, first gently and then roughly, pulling his mouth down to her.

When his tongue first flicked over her hardened nipple, she cried out in ecstasy. One of her legs wrapped around him, holding him tightly to her, begging more…

And then that delightful mouth was gone. She whimpered at the loss and opened her eyes to see him hovering over her. God, he was beautiful! He was no less perfect than a marble statue – handsome features, well-defined muscles… She venture a look down at lower portions of his anatomy…

Oh god! So long and hard, and all for her…

The leg behind his back tightened its grip once again and then began to slide languorously down his side, around those slender thighs… He let out a slight growl and recaptured her lips with a newborn intensity. Their bodies pressed firmly together, and she could now feel the firmness of his erection pressed against her inner thigh.

Once again she broke their kiss. “Please…” she begged, looking longingly into those beautiful eyes of his.

“Do you want me?” he said softly, holding her gaze and matching its passion.

“I want you,” she replied breathlessly. “I want you so bad it hurts. I…need you!”

His mouth bent down for one second to lick at the soft flesh of her throat. “Need you, too, pet,” his voice was barely a whisper.  “I love you, you know,” a smile played upon the edges of his delicious lips. “Always.”

“I know.” She gave him a small smile of her own.

Their lips met again, and the next second he thrust inside her hard…

* * *

“BUFFY!”

“Huh?!” She shook her head, trying to break the trance she had been under.

“Sign’s finished,” Xander said, waving his hand in front of her face. “We can continue with the meeting now.”

“Right…” she said, using her full strength to rip her gaze from that of the peroxide vampire who was leaning against the ladder in the Magic Box. His posture seemed to suggest both casual boredom and seductive sexuality at the same time…if that were possible.

“So,” Willow began, “we can chalk up the theft at the museum to the nerdy trio now…since they had the diamond and all. And we’ve solved yet another mystery.”

“Yeah, see?” Xander said proudly. “I was right. That whole freezing thing in the Dungeons & Dragons hand-manual. That was all me.”

“Yes, dear, you were right. We all acknowledge your researching brilliance,” Anya patted his shoulder reassuringly. “Now,” she turned to more important matters…at least, for her, “what do you think about this catering plan for the reception?”

Their voices seemed to fade into the background as Buffy watched Spike yawn and stretch languidly back against the ladder. Firm muscles rippled beneath his partially unbuttoned shirt – the very same royal purple one he had worn their first night together – and she couldn’t help but recall just how good those muscles tasted. She discovered to her consternation that her nipples had hardened and her panties were getting soggier by the minute. All these Spike fantasies were not helping!

“And it was completely cleared out?” Dawn asked, grabbing a handful of nachos from the bowl in Xander’s lap.

“Empty,” Willow pouted. “They sure moved fast.”

“Yeah, well maybe if Evil Undead over there had told us where they were hanging out earlier, they wouldn’t have gotten away.” Xander cast a distasteful glance in Spike’s direction.

Spike’s gaze left Buffy’s for an instant to glare at Xander. “And maybe if you’d bother to inform me that that ridiculous lot of humans were tryin’ ta play ‘Big Bad’, I’da told you where they were sooner.”

Oh god, was his accent gorgeous! Buffy found herself breathing more heavily just at the sound of his voice. How does he do this me? She marveled. It must be a thrall… Does Spike even have a thrall?

“Well, we didn’t exactly notice they were up to anything until they…well, announced it,” Willow said defensively.

“S’pose the gits are easy to overlook,” Spike shrugged. “Bleedin’ wankers.”

And he was soooo sexy when he got snarky. Buffy felt her heart pounding in her chest. Oh god, I need him to touch me… Just one quick fix…

Spike’s eyes ran her up and down and he sniffed the air casually before a wicked leer curled across his lips. Buffy knew she was caught. Hell, she could even smell her arousal. Her face turned bright red, and she quickly turned back to what Anya was saying.

“I mean, what are we even going to do if we catch Warren, Jonathan, and…er…”

“Oh, allow me!” Xander said, proudly lifting up his sign. Written in magic markers in big bold letters were the words “WHAT’S HIS NAME = ANDREW.”

“…And Andrew?” Anya finished. “That sign really is most helpful, dear. And you look very sexy with silver glitter on your cheek.”

“Ah yes, the manly attributes of silver glitter,” Xander leaned back. “The sure way to any woman’s heart…”

Buffy stopped listening to the far-too-happy couple and turned her attention back to more important matters. What? Ogling Spike is very important, her mind insisted. He looked hopelessly bored now and was starting to fidget. Oh, soon he’ll start pacing. Pacing-Spike very sexy…all prowly and energetic… Of course, fidgeting-Spike is sexy, too. Oh! And angry-Spike and let’s-go-kill-stuff-Spike and soulful-puppy-dog-eyed-Spike and… The litany went on and on in her head.

“So, I guess that’s all we can do for now,” Willow concluded.

“Huh?” Buffy once again demonstrated her amazing ability to stay on-topic…well, on non-Spike topic anyway.

“They summon stuff; you kill it; we keep trying to find them,” Willow repeated.

“Oh…right… Good idea!” she quickly said. “I should go kill stuff. Right now. And Spike should come with me.” Gonna get my fix! Her sex-drive was doing a little happy-dance in her head.

“Right then, let’s go.” With feline grace, the subject of her fantasies pushed himself up from the ladder and sauntered over to her.

She stood up as he approached, and for an instant they stood so close – too close – their chests only inches apart. Need him now! Her mind cried out.

He gave her a saucy smile, reading her mind perfectly as usual, and took a step back. Her body slumped slightly at the loss of his nearness.

“Coming, are you?” he teased, his eyes conveying all-too-clearly the promise of things to come in that innocent-sounding phrase.

“Uh…yeah! Off patrolling! Bye, guys!” She nearly ran out the door the vampire held open for her, and he followed her out.

“I can’t help but wonder what diabolical plans the Trio has for us next,” Willow said before turning back to her laptop.

* * *

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit…” Jonathan said, pacing back and forth across their new basement hideaway.

“Slayer’s gonna find us, Slayer’s gonna kill us, Slayer’s gonna find us…” Andrew’s mantra continued as he rocked back in his chair.

Warren’s head was this close to exploding. “Will you guys knock it off?” he requested for the umpteenth time. “The Slayer has no idea where we are. Thus, she cannot kill us.”

“She’ll find us, though,” Andrew insisted. “Her and all her super-powered friends are gonna come barging in here…and we are so dead!”

“I don’t think you’re fully grasping this whole ‘super-villains’ concept,” Warren retorted sarcastically. “We kill Slayer. We kill Super-Friends. Slayer and Super-Friends can’t come after us.”

“B-But we can’t kill the Slayer!” Jonathan protested.

Warren turned an annoyed glance at his not-so-eager partner-in-crime.

Jonathan wisely decided to change his tactics. “Sh-She’s strong and fast and stuff. We can’t kill her. We’re just…us,” he giggled nervously.

Warren threw his head back in disgust. “I refuse to admit that somewhere, at some time, there wasn’t something that could defeat her!”

“Well, yeah, there probably was,” Jonathan acknowledged. “But it’s not here now.”

“Then make it come here!” Warren demanded. “Do a summoning spell or something!”

* * *

With a loud roar, Spike seized the head of the last vamp, ripping it from its shoulders with his bare hands. It exploded in a shower of dust.

“You know, there are more efficient ways of killing those things,” Buffy gestured to unused stake tucked neatly in his belt.

“ ‘S not half as much fun that way, pet,” he gave her a sly smile. “And you know it.”

“Oh? Look at me, using a stake like a normal person.” She jabbed the air in front of her with the wood for emphasis.

“That so, luv?” he asked, taking a sultry step toward her.

“Yup.” It really was more of a gulp.

“Really?” he advanced further until the tip of her stake was mere inches from his heart.

“Uh-huh,” she insisted, her pulse racing and her pupils dilating as she gazed into the sapphirine depths of his eyes.

“Then why aren’t you using your stake, luv?” He pushed her hand aside and caught her around the waist, pulling her flush up against him.

She found her mouth suddenly too dry to speak.

“Maybe,” his hand deftly removed the stake from her fingers and caught hold of her wrist, “we should use my stake.” He guided her hand to the large bulge at the front of his jeans, and a low growl grumbled through the back of his throat as she unconsciously began to stroke him…

* * *

“OK,” Jonathan said, printing out the spell from the Internet. “This should work.”

“Then do it!” Warren demanded.

“I-I’m not exactly sure of the consequences of this spell,” Jonathan began.

Andrew looked curiously over his shoulder, chewing away at a half-eaten Rice Crispies square. “Calls forth her greatest enemy,” he shrugged. “Sounds good to me.”

Warren gave him a triumphant look.

“Fine…” Jonathan sighed and took a second to center himself.

Then, in a half-possessed state, he grabbed a piece of chalk and slowly drew a continuous arc around himself. He sat down in the middle, eyes shut. “Mirror!” he demanded. After a bit of shuffling starship plans, Andrew provided one. Jonathan placed it before him. “Candle and holywater!” These items were also rushed into the circle.

Carefully lighting the candle, Jonathan began to chant off of the page before him. The rising and falling cadence of Latin tones echoed throughout the basement hideout, and mystical energy crackled through the air. The rhythm of the spell built and built until finally the magic reached its peak.

“Through the sands of space and time, bring forth the Slayer’s greatest foe!” Jonathan cried out and looked down at the scene that appeared in the mirror in front of him…

* * *

Sunnydale, 1997…

“The stars are changing…changing… Lookit the little birdies, flitting about between day and night…”

“Uh-huh. Fascinating, pet.” Spike was sitting in a chair in the direct center of the warehouse, sulking. Only Drusilla was about, dancing around in nothing but a slip for no apparent reason. All their minions had taken his obvious fury and firm order of “Out!” to heart, and had long since fled for their lives.

This left Spike alone with a less-lucid-than-usual Dru to brood over his most recent failure. No! His eyes widened in horror. I do not brood! That’s for the Poof to do. I’m…raging! Yes, that’s it! Much more manly sounding…

He decided that he needed to look more like he was raging than brooding too, and began to pace the room, ranting as he went. “I had her!” he insisted. “I was this close! I could hear the blood stop in her veins and see her eyes fill with death…”

“…Pretty little birdies…gouge out their eyes…snap off their beaks…” Drusilla flitted by, taking up an orbital path around his own.

“And then her mother hits me! Her mother!” he screamed in frustration. “Knocked out by a bleedin’ human! And the Slayer’s mother, to boot! I’ll never live it down!”

“…One by one, pluck out the feathers…falling, falling…like the sands of the hour glass…”

“ ‘So are the days of our lives’,” Spike couldn’t help but mutter under his breath. “The Slayer!” he exclaimed. “This close…so close…” He threw his head back.

“…Sand falling, falling…rising?” Drusilla stopped abruptly in front of him.

Spike turned his attention to her, looking her squarely in the eyes. “What is it, Dru?” he asked.

She giggled. “Good-bye, my Spike. Have a pleasant trip, and come back to mommy soon.”

“What are you talking about?” he began.

And then, in a flash of white light, he was gone.

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