Side Effects

Chapter Three – ShagFest 2000

Spike was just picking himself up off the ground when a small fist wound itself into the front of his t-shirt. He was jerked up and Buffy's angry – and very flushed – face loomed large in his vision. "How are you doing that? How are you making me feel this way?"

He blinked. She was starkers, standing on her back lawn wearing not a stitch of clothing, and the aroma wafting from her lady parts was making his mouth water. He swallowed hard and sputtered, "I don't know!"

She turned and started dragging him toward the back door. "Well, since this is obviously your fault, you're gonna fix it. My arms are still sore from the last time and my mom can't afford the water bill."

He'd gotten his feet under him and was stumbling along behind her. "My fault? Last time? Water bill? What're you talkin' about? You're not makin' any bloody sense, woman!"

They were nearing the back door now, and because Buffy didn't seem to be slowing down, Spike prepared himself to slam into the barrier. He was through the kitchen and being dragged up the stairs before the shock wore off. There'd been no barrier. Buffy hadn't disinvited him from the house after the Adam debacle.

He didn't have time to wonder about that because Buffy pulled him into her bedroom and threw him onto the bed. She slammed the door closed and stood there, hands on her hips. "Strip."

Spike scrambled backwards, tumbling off the other side of the bed. He popped up, ready to do something, although he wasn't sure what, and the sight that met his eyes caused his mouth to drop open. Buffy was leaning back against her door, one hand on her breast, fingers pinching and rolling the nipple while the other was buried between her legs. Her hips were thrusting against her hand and she was staring at him with pleading eyes. "Do something, Spike. Help me. God, I can't stop."

His duster was pooling on the floor behind him and his shirt was pulled off and floating down to rest on her desk before he'd even rounded the end of her bed. He dropped to his knees in front of her and lifted her left leg to his shoulder then batted her hand away and dove in, his tongue delving deep into her folds.

He moaned into her heated flesh as her taste burst on his tongue. Her hands flew to his head, her fingers gripping his hair tight as she ground down against his mouth.

It didn't take long. Her fingers tightened even more, ripping some of his hair out by the roots as she arched back against the door with a scream. She flooded his mouth, her nub pulsing wildly against his upper lip as he drank her down, lapping up every drop he could find.

She stood there panting harshly for a handful of seconds then looked down at him and shoved him backwards. He thumped to the floor on his back then slid a few feet, his head narrowly missing the corner post of her bed. Then she was standing over him, her hands jerking at his belt before he could even sit up. He pushed her hands out of the way then expertly released his belt and the buttons of his jeans. She grasped the waistband and jerked them down, seemingly unperturbed by his lack of undergarments, then voiced a frustrated little whine when the jeans caught on his boots.

She snarled, "Screw the boots," and planted her hands on his chest, pushing him flat to the floor again. She straddled him then reached between her legs, grasping his erection in a tight fist before guiding the tip to her opening and sinking down.

Spike groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head as his hands grasped her hips, pulling her down until her pelvis was flush with his. They both stilled for a few seconds while she adjusted to his size then she started rocking her hips, her hands once again planted firmly on his chest. She glared down at him. "How are you doing this?" She threw her head back and started riding him faster. "God, what did you do to me?"

He thrust up into her, grunting out a response as he did, "I didn't do anythin', you crazy bint. You dragged me in here and jumped on me." He hissed as her nails dug into his skin. "Not that I'm complainin'. Ride me, Buffy. Harder. Fuck yeah. Squeeze me, just like that. God, you're so hot, you're juicy little quim's gonna burn me up." He gripped her hips tighter, powering his thrusts with some vampire strength.

"Shut up, Spike. Don't stop, but shut up."

He snarled and lifted her off him, tossing her over his head to land on the bed. He kicked his boots and jeans off then got to his feet and turned to face her, his glistening cock proudly pointing the way. She'd landed face down on the bed and was looking over her shoulder at the vampire stalking slowly toward her. He stepped to the side of the bed and reached down, grasping her hips, then jerked her up sharply and impaled her in one harsh thrust. "You wanted it, missy, so take it. All of it."

Buffy scrambled for purchase, finally gripping her comforter tight in her fists as Spike pounded into her from behind. He was holding nothing back now, plowing into her with all his strength. She could feel his hipbones slamming against her ass, and the thought that his chip should be going off drifted past, but then she realized that while it hurt, it was a good hurt, the kind of hurt that makes you want more. And she did. She braced her hands against the bed and pushed back against his thrusts. Spike responded by tangling his fingers in her hair and pulling her head up. "You like that, don't you, Slayer? You like takin' it from the Big Bad. Havin' my cock fillin' you up. I'm gonna make you scream."

His words were hitting almost as hard as his cock and Buffy was seeing stars. She could feel the gathering climax starting low in her belly and she clamped her walls down hard on him then relaxed. She did that several times in rapid cycles then smirked to herself when Spike groaned loudly and his fingers tightened on her hip and in her hair. His thrusts sped up a little, becoming somewhat erratic, and then the stars exploded and her vision whited out completely. She thought she might have screamed, but she wasn't sure. She wouldn't have heard it over Spike's howl anyway.

XXXX

Spike stretched and reached down, scratching absently at his belly. He felt good. Really good. His hand drifted further down and scratched at the nest of pubic hair around his flaccid cock. He froze. He sat up, blinking down at himself. His cock wasn't hard.

He spied a small foot next to his and his eyes tracked along the leg attached to it then he shot to his feet, backing away from the bed that had a sleeping Slayer on it. A very naked, very debauched sleeping Slayer. She was draped over the edge of the bed; face down with her legs spread obscenely wide, her sex swollen and glistening.

A wide grin split his face. 'Bloody hell! I shagged a Slayer! Always knew the only thing better than killin' a Slayer would be fuckin' one. They'll have to change my name from Slayer of Slayers to Shagger of Slayers.'

Buffy stirred and mumbled out a muffled, "I can still hear your thoughts… Pig." She groaned and lifted up on her elbows. "Oh God… not again."

Spike looked down and sighed. He was hard. "Bollocks."

Buffy rolled onto her back and scooted fully up onto the bed, one hand drifting to her breast to pinch and squeeze the nipple. "Something is weird here, Spike. Hellmouthy weird."

Spike took a few steps toward her, licking his lips and nodding. "Agreed."

Buffy's other hand slid between her spread legs and she moaned. "This isn't natural, you and me. It's wrong."

Spike lifted a knee to the bed and leaned down, resting a hand on the bed near her hip. The other hand slid up her leg. "Vampire shaggin' a Slayer. Sworn enemies. Can't get more unnatural than that."

Buffy moaned again when Spike's fingers slid into her. "And I have a boyfriend."

Spike lowered himself to the bed, his tongue flicking against her nub before he said, "That you do." He laid the flat of his tongue against her and licked.

Buffy's hand moved to his head, fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled his face closer to her core. "Will you stop agreeing with me?"

He nodded, his tongue sliding up and down, then he pulled back far enough to say, "Soon as you say somethin' I don't agree with." He removed his fingers and replaced them with his tongue.

"We have to go see Giles."

Spike raised his head, causing Buffy to whimper at the loss, then he smirked. "Agreed." Buffy glared and he raised a finger in a 'not done speaking' gesture. "But not 'till after."

"After what?"

He lowered his head and resumed his earlier activities, mumbling against her flesh. "After we've shagged ourselves stupid."

Buffy lifted her hips to meet his mouth and groaned, "Agreed. Oh God, right there!"

XXXX

Two exhausted beings stood in front of the Watcher's door nearly sixteen hours later. They'd shagged eight ways from Sunday, in every position they could think of, running completely through Spike's extensive repertoire… twice. Buffy had done things with Spike that she was pretty sure were illegal in most states, especially the thing with the bath brush, but they hadn't been able to stop until a particularly acrobatic move had injured Spike in a delicate area.

Walking across town had been painful for both of them – especially considering that Spike had taken her hard and fast against the trunk of a tree and then she'd thrown him to the ground and had ridden him hard into the gravel strewn parking lot of a small park. Spike leaned heavily against the door frame of Giles' apartment, wondering why in the world he had to own jeans that were so damn tight. Luckily, he'd left his duster at Buffy's, so the gravel had only shredded his shirt and his back instead of damaging his coat.

Giles finally opened the door after Buffy's third round of knocking. He was wearing a bathrobe and his hair was standing up in wild corkscrews. He blinked sleepily at the two people standing on his stoop then his eyes widened.

Buffy brushed tiredly past him with a muttered, "I didn't stay away from Spike and it got worse," as she made for the couch. She curled up in the corner, hugging her knees to her chest.

Spike hobbled in after her and went straight to the kitchen. He grabbed a tea towel and a handful of ice then limped over to the couch and dropped heavily onto the end opposite Buffy, wrapping the ice in the towel and placing it lightly on his groin.

Giles still stood next to his open front door, blinking owlishly. He gathered himself and shut the door then moved to the chair facing the couch. He studied the vampire and the Slayer with a measured gaze then whispered, "Oh Dear Lord. You two have been engaging in… sexual congress."

Spike snorted. "Sexual congress? We've been shaggin' ourselves blind, Rupert. Been goin' at it for hours. Every position I could think of, every orifice we possess. We've used toys, food, Joyce is gonna need a new bath brush… we can't get enough."

Buffy mumbled, "And my room is totally destroyed. I need a new bed, a closet door, a dresser, a desk… and I think there's a hole in the floor."

Giles paled considerably then shot to his feet and walked quickly to a trunk sitting against the wall. "I should have known."

Buffy looked over at him. "Known what?"

Giles pulled a large volume from the trunk and started flipping pages. "That demon. It's not the slime that has this effect, it's the blood." He looked up from the book. "Did both of you come into contact with the demon's blood?"

Buffy and Spike both nodded and Buffy said, "Kind of hard not to. The stupid thing exploded."

Spike adjusted his ice pack. "How long is this gonna last?" He leered over at Buffy. "Even the pain I'm in right now isn't dampening my bloody libido. If you weren't here, Watcher, I'd bend your Slayer over the back of the sofa and shag her rotten." He pictured it in his mind, tearing her sweats down over her hips and sliding into her tight little arse.

Buffy moaned low in her throat and shifted on the couch. "God, shut up, Spike! And stop thinking! You're not going there again! I'm still sore from the last three times!"

Giles coughed uncomfortably and reached for his glasses, only to find that he wasn't wearing them. Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Without his glasses, Spike's motions to Buffy indicating that she should sit on his lap, sans pants, were quite blurry, but then Buffy stood and started sliding her sweats down and Spike's ice pack thumped to the floor because he'd popped the buttons of his jeans. Giles slammed the book closed and headed for the stairs. "I'll just be upstairs." He looked up at the wide open loft containing his bed then stammered, "I..I mean in the lavatory."

Buffy and Spike paid him no mind and Giles hurried down the hall, trying to block out Spike's whispered, "Slide down easy now, Slayer, you're still slicked up. Yeah… just like that. Squeeze me," and Buffy's moaned, "Oh God, you can go there whenever you want. It's so good."

Giles dropped the book on a cabinet then shut the door. He could still hear them. He turned the sink taps on full blast then plugged his ears with his fingers. This was going to be a long night.

XXXX

Spike rapped on the door… again. "Rupert! We're done for the moment, so if you've something to tell us, you'd best get to it. No tellin' when it'll start up again and I don't know that your sofa can handle another go."

Giles rose from the floor, leaving the rolled towel he'd used as a pillow, and turned off the taps before he cautiously pulled the door open and peeked through the crack. Spike was standing in the hall outside the bathroom, wearing only his jeans and boots, his chest covered in fresh scratches and bite marks. Giles assumed that Spike's t-shirt hadn't survived the latest encounter and he wondered about the state of his sofa.

Spike turned and headed for the living room and Giles blinked at his back. More scratches. Buffy really needed to cut her nails. Giles shuddered and followed the vampire.

XXXX

"Uh, Giles… um… Spike can't get me pregnant."

Giles sighed. "I'm fully aware of that fact, Buffy, and that's the problem. When a demon elder of that species is about to die, it opens a vein, spraying its blood over two younger members of its clan. The blood is a powerful aphrodisiac, making them care about nothing but copulation until such time as the male impregnates the female. Once that happens, the power in the blood ceases to be effective and they go on with their lives. It's a population control device. That species only creates offspring when one of them dies, keeping their population at a constant level."

"So why did I have to kill it? They don't sound dangerous or anything and they're not trying to overrun the planet, so…"

"That one had gone rogue and was recruiting other demons to try to take over the Hellmouth. They don't usually have minions. They're solitary creatures, actually, only gathering for the death ritual."

"The spraying blood and then having lots of sex thing?"

"Yes. That."

Spike adjusted himself, willing the Watcher to be quicker in his explanations. It was starting again and Giles was about to witness one hell of a show if he didn't get to the bleeding point and soon. "What's that got to do with the mind reading bit?"

"That species of demon is telepathic. That's how they know when to come together for the ritual. I assume that contact with its bodily fluids somehow transferred that ability."

Buffy shot a glare at Spike. "God! Think about something else, would you? Think about tea or scones or soccer or whatever British people think about, but stop thinking about licking me!"

Spike shrugged and leered. "Watcher started it. All that talk of bodily fluids…"

Buffy moaned and shifted on the couch, her hand drifting to the crotch of her sweats. "Why can't Spike read my thoughts?"

Giles shook his head and looked away from the now writhing Buffy, focusing instead on one of his bookshelves. "I'm not sure, but because he had only minimal contact with the slime and blood, I'm going to assume that the amount of exposure has something to do with it. He was exposed enough for the aphrodisiac properties to affect him, but not the telepathic properties."

Buffy moaned again then stood. "Okay. That'll have to do for now. You'd better go somewhere else for a while. Those exposure comments have Spike thinking all kinds of things. And they're things I really don't want you to see."

Giles glanced at Spike, only to look away as quickly as he could. Spike had unbuttoned his jeans and had his cock in his hand, stroking it slowly. Looking at Buffy wasn't any better. She'd already slipped out of her sweats and was lifting her shirt over her head. Giles immediately shifted his gaze to the floor and stood, turning toward his front door. "I'll be at the Magic Box, researching how to end this." He walked to the door and lifted a jacket off the coat tree. "Please don't destroy my flat… or use any of my kitchen utensils or bathroom implements in an inappropriate manner."

He pulled open the door. "But if you do, please put those items in a pile. I'll burn them later." Two loud moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin was their response.

Giles fled.