Save the Last Dance For Me

By Passion4Spike

Story Summary and warnings:

Set in season 6, this story begins soon after Older and Far Away. Warren, and this troupe of misfit baddies, The Trio, has Buffy over a barrel. They've got video evidence of her trysts with Spike – and plenty of it. If she doesn't do what they want, they'll broadcast the explicit video all over the internet – everyone will know her dirty little secret. Buffy's never felt so lost and alone and utterly ashamed. After being dragged out of heaven, her soul aches, and Spike's the only one who can ease her pain, but her friends would never understand. While trying to help the Slayer out of this jam, Spike inadvertently reveals a secret of his own, one that he's worked hard to keep hidden even from himself, one that will change the way Buffy sees him and change their dance forever.

This story began as an idea for a 3 chapter short. Thus far, I have nearly 100 chapters and over 300,000 words, so if you don't like long stories, steer clear! The story is nearly complete in the writing, so it will not be left a WIP. I hope to post 2 chapters per week as time permits.

WARNINGS – PLEASE HEED!

Warnings for severe Riley-bashing in this story! If you like Riley Finn at all, steer clear. He will not get any breaks.

Also warnings for consensual BDSM, blood play, angst, and character death. There will be sex! There will be violence! There will be harsh language. There will be gore. There will be tears! There will be metaphors! Anyone who has read any of my stories before knows that I like a roller coaster ride - very high highs and very low lows. I hope to touch all your emotions!

I sometimes use direct quotes from the show. These are not meant as plagiarism, but as an homage to the brilliant writers and how they developed the characters in the show. I try to give credit on each chapter when I do this, but I'm sure I've missed some.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. Joss owns all. All hail Joss!

I want to thank the lovely and amazing PaganBaby for being my awesome beta reader AND creator of all banners! I can't express my appreciation for all she's done!

Chapter 1: Blackmail

Chapter Summary:

Buffy feels trapped, alone, and desperate. What lengths will she go to to keep her secret rendezvous with Spike kept a secret?

Buffy sat down hard on the back steps of her house, dropping the small, velvet bag down next to her. The jewels within jangled together, almost musically, but she didn't notice. The tears she'd been holding back exploded from her eyes and she buried her face against her knees, hands clasped around her ears as she sobbed.

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

Nothing was working.

Nothing was right.

The memory of heaven haunted her, every minute of every day. The world was harsh. It was bright and hard and cruel. She'd done her penance, hadn't she? Her journey had been done. She'd made the ultimate sacrifice. She'd made it through this purgatory, saved the world, saved her friends, and been rewarded. Rewarded with warmth, and light and love … but her friends couldn't stand it. They had to get her back. They had to yank her out of that warm, loving embrace and thrust her back into purgatory … or what they call 'life'.

The only escape she'd found was Spike. God help her … Spike. Her sobs came harder at the thought, even as her body bloomed with lust and yearning. Her mind, her conscience, dripped with dark shame for taking solace in his arms, but her body rejoiced. Her heart … well, her heart was caught in the middle. Didn't she deserve an escape? Didn't she deserve a few moments of bliss in this horrid world? But he was evil. Always had been. Always would be. She knew that, but … but he knew her pain. And he knew how to take it away, at least for a while.

But her friends would never understand.

Never.

And that was the rub, wasn't it? That's why there was a bag of priceless diamonds next to her, black diamonds. She felt a kinship to them … dark on the inside, bright and shiny on the outside. She fumbled with the string holding the bag closed and fished one out, holding it up in the moonlight, turning it back and forth to let the light catch the facets, sparkling. Exactly like her … a bright façade hiding a dark heart.

"No fondling the merch, Slayer," came a male's sarcastic voice from the dark.

Buffy didn't start, she'd been waiting for it. She quickly swiped a sleeve across her tear-streaked face and dropped the jewel back into the bag, pulling the string closed tightly. She looked up, scowling, and tossed the bag in the direction of the voice.

"Fuck you," she growled menacingly.

Warren laughed, plucking the bag out of the air with one hand. "That's what got you into this mess, isn't it?" he asked sarcastically, opening the bag and examining the loot.

He licked his lips, keeping the drool from escaping his mouth. Having a Slayer under his thumb was better than having a Bot. And he might just have to take her up on that 'fuck you' offer one of these days, but priorities. He had priorities.

"There's another shipment coming through tomorrow night. Rubies. Get them," he ordered, smirking as he thought of fucking the Slayer in a bed of rubies, diamonds, and emeralds. His cock grew hard at the image of her blond hair fanned out over the jewels, her silken thighs spread wide for him. He could see it clearly now, just as he did every night as he watched the videos of her with the blond vampire. He could even hear her, screaming at him to fuck her harder, just as she did in the videos.

Warren's eyes began to glaze as he relived the scenes in the videos he'd surreptitiously captured, and he gave himself a mental slap – priorities! Jewels first. Fucking the Slayer could wait. She wasn't going anywhere, after all.

Buffy glared at him. "How long is this going to go on?" she demanded. "I've gotten you a small fortune in gems already!"

Warren shrugged. "Until you've gotten me a large fortune … an enormous fortune … for as long as I say, unless you want those videos broadcast all over the world," he replied coldly, turning to go.

Buffy jumped up and had him in a choke-hold before she even knew what was happening.

"If … I … die …" Warren choked out, "you … will … be … exposed … vampire … whore."

Buffy released him abruptly, and Warren dropped to one knee, staggering and rubbing his throat. He glared at her through narrowed eyes as he rose back to his feet. "Face it, Slayer, you're my bitch. If you don't want the world to know about your little … tête-à-tête with the vampire, then I need to stay alive and well, and you need to do as I say."

Buffy clutched her hands into fists as her blood boiled. She needed to hit something. Hard. Now. She took one step forward and drove her fist into the oak tree next to the geek. Splinters of bark and wood shot out in all directions as the whole tree shook, raining leaves and acorns down on them.

"Get. Out. Of. My. Sight," she growled dangerously, her teeth clenched, barely containing her rage.

Warren did. Quickly.

Suddenly, all of Buffy's strength waned and she dropped down onto her knees in the grass beneath the tree, her tears returning. How had she let herself get into this situation? HOW? If her friends knew … and Dawn … and Giles. Oh, God, if Giles found out, what would he say? What would he think of her? He'd been the closest thing to a father she'd had for a long time, and the thought of how he'd look at her if he knew, not only knew but SAW, ripped gashes of anguish in her heart.

"Slayer?" Spike's voice was soft, but filled with confusion and concern as he approached the crumpled form beneath the oak tree.

He reached out and touched her shoulder, and she jumped, scrambling back from him, eyes wide with confusion.

Buffy tried to clear the cobwebs from her mind, looking around, trying to make sense of where she was. Then it all came back to her, she was in the backyard, she must've cried herself to sleep beneath the oak tree.

"Spike …" she muttered as her heartbeat slowed and her adrenaline subsided.

Spike quirked brow at her, taking in her disheveled look, the tear tracks and red blotched cheeks. "Someone kick yer puppy, Slayer?"

Buffy rolled her eyes and got to her feet, brushing leaves and grass from her clothes. "Go away," she demanded icily. "I'm not in the mood for your sarcastic tongue in this lifetime."

"As I recall, seemed to like my sarcastic tongue fine the other night, you did," Spike reminded her, running said tongue invitingly over his lips.

Spike thought Buffy's eyes were gonna roll right out of her head at that. She huffed at him and moved to shove past him toward the house.

"What's yer rush, luv? Not very neighborly of ya, not even offering a parched vampire a spot of tea," he chided, grabbing hold of her arm.

"Let. Go," Buffy snarled at him, teeth flashing in anger.

"Make me," Spike countered, his voice low and serious, his lips curled in a smug smile.

Before Spike even knew she'd moved, her free hand came up and her fist smashed against his nose, splattering blood in all directions. He laughed maniacally and twisted the arm he still held, flipping her completely over and planting her back on the hard ground with a 'whoosh' of expelled breath.

In the next moment he was on her and they scrabbled against each other, rolling and grappling, strength matching strength, Buffy's anger at the world lashing out against Spike's demon, who reveled in the age-old battle: vampire and Slayer.

They rolled and punched, scratched and bit, first he on top and then her as they struggled, ripping clothes and flesh alike, both growling, sounding alarmingly like a pack of wolves in the back yard. Luckily, Dawn was spending the night at her friend's house and Willow had an all-night cram session at the library for a test the next day. No one was home to hear.

And then, as if it were part of the fight, they were kissing, their mouths smashing against each other, demanding and fierce. Tongues and teeth clashing, lips bruising with the undeniable lust they both felt. Their clothes, already torn and bloody, were ripped away in a flurry of need, buttons popping, seams splitting. And then there was flesh, hot against cold, hard against soft, moonlit marble against a sun-kissed rose. In that moment of surrender as they joined, the world stopped spinning, the sun exploded, and the moon fell from the sky.

Buffy gasped and her back arched in ecstasy as Spike's hardness entered her, driving home in one long, hard thrust, sending sparks of bliss searing through her shattered soul, filling in all the cracks left raw and bleeding by her resurrection. She floated there, trembling, unable to breathe, unable to think, all of her internal wounds blissfully numbed with the passion of their coupling.

"Don't … stop," she gasped against his neck, pulling him into her hard with her heels digging against his marble-hard ass. "Never … stop."

He didn't.

He moved against her, her arms and legs wrapped around him, her soft walls slick and welcoming. Her warmth filled him, radiating through him, her beating pulse felt like his own heart was racing; in these moments with her he almost felt … human … alive.

Their bodies moved in unison, rising and falling, flesh meeting flesh, driving, lustful, blind. Needing all the other could give. Taking everything. Giving everything. Demanding. Yielding. Floating. Flying. Exploding.

His mouth covered hers as their mutual ecstasy found its zenith and exploded, raining down blissful pleasure like a shower of tingling sparks over their quivering bodies. Her scream and his growl of completion were both muffled against the other's lips, swallowed by the night, lost in the darkness.

Darkness.

Buffy felt it. She felt the darkness seeping back in, the bright sparks of desire which had filled those fathomless crevices of emptiness began fading away again. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't hold them for longer than these fleeting moments with Spike. She'd come back wrong, with a deep emptiness, and she didn't know how to fix it.

The darkness brought reality back. Purgatory. Warren. Her friends. Her anger. Her sadness. Her despair.

"Get off me!" she demanded suddenly, pushing and kicking at Spike furiously.

She'd done it again! Wasn't she in enough trouble already!? How could she do it AGAIN? Had Warren planted more cameras around here, she wondered in a panic, her eyes darting around the yard, searching as she tried to gather up her torn and tattered clothes.

"What the bloody hell, Slayer?!" Spike demanded, rolling away from her flailing fists and feet and standing up. He jerked his jeans up over his ass and tried to button them, but it was a lost cause, the buttons were long gone.

"Just … just leave me alone, Sp-p-pike," Buffy tried to make it sound like a demand, but to her chagrin it came out as a plea, her voice cracking slightly on his name.

Buffy was standing now, too, trying to pull her coat back on over her torn sweater and jeans. He stepped forward and grabbed her upper arms and held her still, ducking his head to make her look at him. "Tell me," he said simply, holding her gaze with his bottomless blue eyes.

"Tell you what?" Buffy countered, scowling.

Spike sighed. "Tell me who kicked yer bloody puppy."

Buffy rolled her eyes and lifted her chin defiantly. "I don't have a puppy. I am canine-free. You can ask anybody."

"Right, then, tell me why you reek of gun powder, tears, an' desolation," he countered.

Stupid vampire smelling, she thought dourly, the memory of wresting the gun away from the security guard just as he fired returning to her at the mention of gunpowder. The bullet had gone wild, luckily striking a wall, harmlessly. She could still hear the shot ringing in her ears though, and it set her teeth on edge.

Not wanting to mention any of that to Spike, she settled on contending, "You can't smell desolation," in her best authoritative voice.

Spike cocked a brow, "Can't I, then?"

Buffy remained silent. What was she supposed to say? I'm being blackmailed for sleeping with you? There's video evidence. She knew what Spike would say, 'Yeah? Let's have a look, then!' It didn't hurt HIS reputation to be fucking a Slayer, but her friends would never understand. Never. She felt utterly alone and completely trapped.

Spike shook her gently, bringing her attention back to him. "Buffy?"

Buffy swallowed hard and looked down at the ground between them. She hated when he used her name. It was too … personal. It felt like … like they were friends or something. And they weren't. They were far from friends. They were enemies. Enemies with benefits.

She snorted at her own joke, but looked back up into his eyes.

He was darkness. He never even tried to pretend he was anything else. She knew how that darkness felt. She was darkness parading around in bright, shiny armor saying, 'Tis but a scratch,' as she bled to death, slowly but surely. She was that black diamond. Glittering on the outside, but black as onyx within.

Spike raised his brows in question, but she shook her head, dismissing it.

"I'm fine," she assured him in her best, bright, happy voice, forcing a smile.

"Just tired," she continued, her fake smile cracking a bit as she pulled free from his grip. "Goodnight."

Buffy turned and walked toward the house, leaving Spike standing in the yard staring after her, dazed and confused, as always.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you'll stop in with a review and let me know what you think! I love hearing from you!

Thanks also to my wonderful beta-reader, Paganbaby, without whom this would not have happened at all! All mistakes here are mine because I just can't stop fiddling.