I've Still Got Buffy Taste in My Mouth

Set at the end of Season 4 "Something Blue." Spike still has Buffy taste in his mouth. What if Buffy tries some new tactics to get even/take out her frustration with Spike. Spuffy, Deviation from cannon: There is no Riley. Disclaimer: I own none of the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. This is my first fanfic ever so please read and review.


"Don't I get a cookie, too?" Though, I'd rather have something else. Sodding spell, and I didn't even get laid, Spike added thoughtfully.

"No," Buffy cringed, remembering the embarrassment Willow's spell had caused her. Though it wasn't Spike's fault, she couldn't take out her anger on her best friend while she was grieving.

"Well, I've got to have something," anything. "I've still got Buffy taste in my mouth," Spike muttered indignantly.

"You're a pig, Spike," a disgusting pig. Buffy couldn't get the images of the previous night's escapades out of her head. The emotions brought on by the spell, were real, and after her reasoning returned to normal, after the spell was over, those feelings still lingered, mingling with her hatred of the vampire. The memories of their kisses and loving embraces were strong, and a small spark of feeling for him remained. It had been gnawing at her for the past few hours.

She was tired, frustrated, and confused. So much of her hated Spike, feared him and what he was, longed to feel the release of beating him down and staking him. She was afraid of what would happen to her if she started fighting with him. The heat that built up during a brawl might send her over the edge, might make her want him all over again. This was not a path she was ready to walk. Ever. She noticed her reactions to him were different when she had tied him to the chair. Normally she would gain a small bit of satisfaction from causing him pain. But this time it was different. The spell changed everything. Yanking the rope around him tighter made her face hot and she hid behind him, tying the rope slowly to give her time to recover. If he had noticed, he didn't say anything. She hoped he hadn't.

Rolling her eyes at him, she turned away, hiding her embarrassment from him. As Buffy stalked off, Willow stuffed a cookie into Spike's mouth. Well, he thought, at least I got the cookie.

"I don't know what to do about him, Willow." Buffy exhaled, leaning against the wall of Giles' kitchen. "I mean, I loved him. And now that the spell has worn off, I hate him all over again. I just want to beat the shit out of him. It's all I can think about," she shook her head, "No, that's not true, that's not all I can think about, but that's all I'm letting myself think about, because if I start thinking about last night, I'm afraid I'll do something stupid." She crossed her arms and gazed down at the floor.

Her shame was obvious to Willow. "Did I mention how sorry I am?"

Buffy looked up at her friend, "It's OK, I'll get over it, right?"

"Right. I'll do better with the next spell."

Buffy looked up, panic in her eyes, "What next spell? I don't think you should be doing any more spells for at least a few days," The idea of another spell messing with her emotions upset and agitated her.

"Oh, no, Buffy, I didn't mean... I mean, I just... Yeah, I'm not going to try any spells for a while." This spell must have really messed with Buffy, Willow thought.

Later that evening Giles left Buffy in charge of guarding Spike while he went to the magic shop. She was nervous about being alone with him, though Giles assured her she would be fine. With the chip in his head, he wouldn't be able to hurt her. He added the caveat that he could still escape and was still needed if they were to find out anything about the commandos. Buffy flopped onto the couch and grabbed her magazine, doing her best to ignore the blond vampire.

Spike felt like a pawn. Tied up and used for information, having to come to his adversary for help. But most of all he felt like a fool, fawning all over the slayer like that. Not only was he effectively neutered with this chip, but Red had turned him into the slayers drooling lap dog. Looking on the bright side, at least he got to snog a pretty girl all night. He'd never looked at a slayer as anything but his enemy, his target, his prey. Being in love with Buffy for a few hours, kissing her, holding her was unnerving. He was attracted to her. He couldn't put it any other way, or look at it any differently.

Coming to his senses in the crypt last night was frightening, not because of what he'd done, but because he still wanted to kiss her. His show of disgust hid his real desire for her. When the spell dissipated, he felt the captivation of marrying Buffy dissolve, the infatuation ease, but something was still there. He still wanted to hurt her, but he still wanted to kiss her and touch her. It was confusing for him, this duality in his emotions. He knew he didn't love her, but the thought of fighting her made his blood boil with want for her. She felt it too, he was sure. He could smell her craving when she tied him to the chair. It surprised him that she felt that way.

She tried to hide it then, taking her time securing him to the chair. But he knew, he felt her skin radiate intense passion and heard her sharp gasp as she realized what was happening to herself. It was torturous sitting there placidly when he wanted to take her right then and there. It wasn't the right time to start anything, with all the Scoobies sitting around watching.

She tried to hide her desire for him now, flipping pages in her magazine, "Would you stop that, you're not even reading it." He couldn't take it much longer.

"Shut up, Spike." This wasn't working, and he was beginning to piss her off.

"Oh, and what are you gonna do if I don't, Pet?" That did it, she leapt over the back of the sofa, and punched him squarely in the nose with a grunt. "Oy, what the hell?"

"I told you to shut it," she threw a ready uppercut to his jaw. Buffy swore she wasn't going to let anything happen, would keep her cool around him, but something had started in her, the heat was raging. She looked at him, startled at what she'd just done. Then her eyes narrowed, changing from shock at herself to vicious depravity. The corners of her lips curled upward into the slightest hint of a smile and she slowly crouched into a feral stance. She would get her satisfaction from him.

Spike saw the change in her, from shock to bloodlust. "There's my girl," he purred, ready for passionate, carnal violence. Buffy smashed her fist hard into his gut. He let out a masochistic groan, obviously enjoying the feverish thrashing she was handing out. He could smell her rage as she rained down her anger on him.

"I'm not your girl. I'll never be your girl. Last night was just... just the spell." She was grasping for something to counter his insinuated accusation. But she couldn't lie to him, to herself anymore. She wanted him. A tingling sensation spread from her face down through her stomach and legs, and Spike smiled cruelly as he watched the play of emotions cross her face. Her fists dropped to her sides as she gasped for breath, looking at him.

"Care to dance, love?" he asked flippantly, hoping to get a rise out of her.

A dark smile crossed her face. Thinking of the possibilities, she took off her jacket and laid it neatly over the back of the sofa. She resigned herself to the inevitable. Silently and slowly she untied him from the chair. The task made her nervous and her pulse quickened. Something was going to happen, she was unsure of what the end result would be, or even of what would happen next, but releasing him seemed like the next move. I must be insane, she thought.

Spike was apprehensive. Did she mean to beat on him again, or was he supposed to kiss her? Buffy answered his unspoken questions by seizing him roughly at the shoulders and crushing her lips to his in a ferocious, animalistic kiss. He could feel how unstable she was, emanating a confusing aura of both hunger and anger as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He snaked his arms around her waist and pressed her body to his, grasping the fabric of her shirt in his fists. In a fury, Buffy slammed the heels of her hands against Spike's chest, throwing him into the wall, cracking the plaster.

This is going to be entertaining. Spike thought as he heaved himself out of the dented wall and launched his body at the Slayer. Pinning her to the ground, he felt her legs ensnare him and was suddenly aware that she was softly caressing the nape of his neck. "Oh, Slayer!" He growled into her neck.

"Bite me," Buffy whispered impatiently. When he hesitated, she gripped his hair and hissed, "Do it!" She wanted it, but if he stopped, if she stopped, she'd have to think about what she was doing.

"I can't. The chip..." he breathed. Spike wanted nothing more than to taste Buffy, and he could tell she wanted it too, but faced with agonizing pain, he paused. It was enough to flip the coin of Buffy's ardor. In an instant she rolled their bodies to the side. Straddling his waist she hit him in the teeth, breaking the skin of his lip. She watched him as his tongue darted to the cut, tasting the blood. Smoothly, he shook his head and transformed into his other self casting off his human guise. The vampire emerged sprouting fangs, and a heavy, savage brow surged forth shadowing blazing yellow eyes.

Spike growled as he smelled her passion for him flare. This was unexpected and his desire for her grew more urgent. Playing her game, he gripped her waist and tossed her over his head and onto the floor. Turning as he stood to face her, she lithely vaulted to her feet. Buffy was in a delirium as she smoothly closed the distance between them. Slowly she pressed herself bodily against Spike and ran her hands up his chest and over his shoulders to the lapels of his coat. He could see her eyes were glazed over with passion as he dipped his demon lips to kiss her.

This kiss, it was different. It held none of the violence she was so evidently fond of, yet it was not like the sickeningly sweet kisses caused by the spell of the previous night. Her lips explored his devil's mouth, tasting, probing into his being. Her grip on his duster tightened, pulling him into her firmly and she whispered hoarsely, "Spike, do it."

He couldn't hold it back any longer. His fingers slid into her hair, pulling, exposing her neck to the monster inside him. She was so fragrant. Full of sweet feminine scents mingling with the power that was the Slayer. It was intoxicating, suppressing his reason, banishing any thoughts of the horrific pain that lay in store for him. A low snarl escaped his lips as he broke the skin.

Nothing. No pain. Just the overwhelming sensation of devouring Buffy, drinking her powerful life force. Ripping himself away, he looked down at her. She was in rapture, lusting for more. This was the game. His victim had to want it, had to enjoy the bloodletting.

Buffy had no idea that it could be this way. she was shocked at how pleasurable it was for Spike to drink her blood. The dichotomy of fighting with him and this coarse and erotic foreplay was driving her mad. She looked up at his face, smeared with blood and gave in to the chaotic contradicting play of emotions that was taking over. She shoved Spike to the side, cocked her leg and kneed him in the kidney. As he fell to his knee, she slammed her fist into the side of his head, dropping him to the floor.

Spike scrambled to his feet and swiftly advanced on her, baring his teeth. He deftly backhanded her, expecting to feel the searing pain in his head. Again, no pain. She enjoyed it. He reveled in the excitement of fighting again. He backed her to the wall and crashed his knuckles into her rib, breaking it with a sickening crack. Her arms were around him again and he hoisted her up as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Their kisses were frenzied and reckless. His strength crushed her as she dug her nails into his skin.

Tearing herself away from him, she realized that Giles was unlocking the front door. "Quick, out the back. You've got to get out of here." Terror struck her. What would she tell Giles? How would she explain the destruction? How could she explain her injuries? She couldn't, she had to go with Spike, clean herself up, think.

As the front door opened, she called out behind her, "Spike's escaped, I'm going after him!" She left Giles to ponder over the battle scene in his living room, hoping he wouldn't suspect anything.

She caught up with Spike easily, and they both ran with determined purpose toward the cemetery, to the safety of his crypt.