Title: Something Truer (sequel to "Something Bluer" and "Something
Newer")
Author: Aisuru
Email: aisuru_chan@yahoo.com
Rating: PG13
Summary: Another spell has been cast on poor Buffy, but this time
Willow is not to blame. This spell was cast by a demon, and it is
much more insidious: Buffy must act entirely on impulse! What will
this do to poor Spike?
Buffy had sobered up, and the events of the night before were no
longer funny! At all. `Is this some cruel joke of the powers that
be?' she wondered. `Spike and I keep being thrown together.
Definitely not funny!'
She tried then to focus on anything but Spike, but thoughts of Spike,
much like the vampire himself, were not easy to ignore. She thought
of his lips, his cool kisses, his talented hands, his talented
tongue… `Whoa! Hold it right there!' Buffy thought, stopping in her
tracks as if that would force the train of thought to stop as
well. `I am so not thinking about this. Think about anything else!
Think about… Giles! Yeah, thoughts of Giles are safe. Giles with
his bookish ways and his British accent… British accent… Spike has
a British accent…' It wasn't working.
She forced her steps forward, all thoughts of the patrol she was
supposed to be on swallowed up by thoughts of the vampire she loved
to hate. This was unfortunate, for she didn't see the demon until
she had almost walked into him. "Hey, look where you're going!" she
shouted when a bulk blocked her path. She looked up just in time to
see the demon throw a hand-full of powder into her face. She gasped
in surprise, managing to breathe in a good deal of the substance,
which resulted in a humiliating coughing fit. When she could finally
right herself again, the demon was gone.
"Oh, great!" she complained, turning around to leave the
graveyard. "I guess I have to see Giles now." She had just exited
the cemetery when she was struck by an impulse. She wanted ice-
cream! She redirected her steps to the 24 hour convenience store.
The bell over the door chimed happily at her approach. The inhuman
patrons of the store – for no human citizens of Sunnydale were stupid
enough to shop after dark – were not so happy at her presence, and
decided to let her know just that. "I've been wanting a good fight!"
she exclaimed, and set to work at kicking the collective butts of
every inhabitant in the store. When the vampires had been staked and
the demons scared off – she didn't feel like getting demon blood or
other anonymous fluids on her clothes – she headed for the frozen
food case.
"Ice-cream!" she moaned with desire as she searched for and found her
favorite. She grabbed a plastic spoon from the dispenser near the
microwave, and headed to the cashier counter. "Give me some sugar,
baby!" she exclaimed, setting the pint on the counter, but the
cashier, who had also been inhuman, was nowhere in sight. With a
shrug, she placed a five dollar bill on the counter and left the
store.
"Ice-cream!" she sighed as she shoveled spoonfuls of the icy goodness
into her mouth. So cool and sensuous, just like… "Just like Spike!"
she thought. "I want to see Spike!"
She had almost reached Spike's crypt when another desire flooded her
mind. She wanted to go swimming! The beach wasn't walking distance
from Sunnydale, but Spike had a car…
"Spike!" she yelled, slamming open the door to his crypt.
Spike was sitting in his favorite chair watching the television.
Luckily for him he had sensed her approach – it was hard to miss the
smell of Slayer, after all – and had time to turn off the videotape
of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and take a good chug of his vodka
before she entered.
"You come here to give it to me good about last night?" he asked with
a snarl. "Wasn't my fault anymore than it was yours. Like I'd ever
want to be Angel!" Spike wanted to spit from saying the name of his
hated sire, but he had just cleaned the crypt, so he drank some more
vodka instead.
"Nope. I'm kidnapping you!" she exclaimed happily. She was happy
because she was going to go swimming, but Spike didn't know this, so
her mood was throwing him for a loop. He hid his confusion with a
laugh.
"You? Kidnap me?" he asked, his tone of voice expressing that such a
thing wasn't in the realm of the possible. Then he remembered his
chip, and that it would be very easy for her to kidnap him, and he
decided that baiting her probably wasn't the best of ideas. Besides,
her eyes had a funny look to them. Maybe she was under another
spell; she did seem to be a spell magnet of late. "Why would you
want to do that?" he asked instead.
"Because I want to go swimming. You have a car. You are going to
drive me to the beach!" She answered him in full confidence, as if
there was nothing unusual about the command.
"Swimming?" he asked. "Sorry to disappoint you, pet, but we vampires
aren't big on the whole beach scene. Bad sunburns to be had there."
Buffy's smile had dropped a little. "It is night. You are going to
drive me to the beach now." She was still holding her pint of ice-
cream in one hand and a spoon in the other, so she didn't bother
showing him the stake she was carrying in the waistband of her
leather pants. Instead she took a big bite of ice-cream to punctuate
her words.
Spike decided to get some clarification. "You want me, Spike, a
vampire with a chip that isn't doing anybody and harm except my
fellow beasties, to drive you, The Slayer, to the beach in the middle
of the night so you can go swimming?"
Buffy's smile brightened. "Yup!" She walked up to him, grabbing
onto his arm, and pulled him out of the crypt. Spike managed to not
drop the bottle of vodka. If he was going to spend the evening with
Buffy, he was going to need it!
He showed her where he stored his car, she made her normal negative
comments about its age and ugliness and its blacked out windows. He
threatened to not drive her to the beach if she kept up her
complaining. She retorted by flinging a spoonful of ice-cream at
him. Spike glared at her as chocolate ice-cream melted in his
platinum blond hair. A curl came free of the gel and hung, dripping
chocolate, over his eyes. He growled. Buffy laughed.
Finally they were on the road, Spike grumbling and growling under his
breath – that was more of a habit than anything else – and Buffy
scraping the last drops of melted ice-cream from the bottom of her
cardboard carton. Then she threw the carton into the car's back seat.
"Hey! Have some more respect for the car!" he cried out in
annoyance, trying to reach behind him for the carton, which was
impossible to find amid all the clutter.
"Hey!" Buffy mimicked. "Shut up!" She reached for the radio and
turned it on. Making a face at Spike's station, she started fiddling
with it, trying out every station on the dial for about 4 seconds
before changing it to the next.
"That is so bloody annoying!" Spike exclaimed. "I have half a mind
to throw you out of the car. Without stopping first."
"Ooh, I wonder how the chip would react to that!" she exclaimed. She
turned the radio back to her station – the surfing had been done to
ignore Spike – and began shouting along to the song. Slayers have
many talents, but driving – and singing along with the radio – are
not among them.
Spike was very thankful when they finally reached the beach. The
beach was, of course, closed, so there was nobody to yell at him for
driving his hulk of a car over the protected dunes and parking right
by the shore. "Here we are, Slayer. Now get out of my car!"
"You're coming, too," she said, her smile – which Spike was sure was
the result of a spell – back in place.
"No way!" he disagreed. "I didn't bring any trunks! Besides, I
already told you, swimming is not high on the list of vampire
pastimes.
Buffy slid across the bucket seats towards the vampire, opened his
car door, and pushed him out and onto the sand with a strong Slayer
shove. Spike growled up at her from where he lay, sprawled on his
back, sand getting into his jeans and Doc Martins, but there was
nothing else he could do to retaliate. `Damn chip!' he thought.
What Buffy did next he could never have predicted. She jumped out of
the car, her legs on either side of his hips, and started untying the
strings that held up her skimpy tied-on top. It was obvious she was
wearing nothing underneath. "What are you doing?" he asked her. He
tried to scoot away from her, but a high-heeled foot pressed down on
his chest, holding him in place.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" she asked. "We're going
swimming. You didn't think I was going to go swimming in my clothes,
did you?"
Spike blinked. He hadn't thought about it at all. In fact, he had
planned on driving off and abandoning The Slayer at the beach – after
all, there was only so much he could do for fun these days.
Then the shirt was off, and she dropped it onto his face. He started
to lift the shirt off from over his eyes, but then he heard the
zipper of her leather pants being lowered, and decided it was a good
idea to just leave the shirt over his face. `No sense getting myself
all worked up over her again,' he thought.
He felt the leather fall onto his lap as she stepped out of the legs
of her pants. Then she was tugging on his arms. "Skinny dipping is
fun! Get those clothes off!" she said.
He was helpless as she drug him to his feet, shoved him against the
hood of his car, and began undressing him. In his surprise, he was
no match for slayer strength. He kept his eyes closed. There was
something in him that had always loved the dominate and be dominated
parts of sexual play, and Buffy's rough treatment of him as she
yanked his boots from his feet and pulled his black T-shirt over his
head was having a physical effect on him. He tried desperately to
shove her away when she reached for the button-fly of his black jeans.
"Buffy," he said, trying to keep his voice calm as he struggled with
her. "I think you're under a spell! You don't really want to do
this!"
Buffy looked up at him in surprise and laughed. "I threatened Willow
with a painful death if she cast any more spells on me. She wouldn't
dare!"
"Then maybe something else did it," he reasoned. He slapped her
hands away a little too roughly and got a nice shock to the brain for
his trouble. When the throbbing in his temples subsided enough for
him to be aware of his surroundings again, she was on the last button
of his fly.
"Ooh!" she teased. "Looks like you have something here for me!"
He grabbed her wrists, firm enough so she wouldn't grab what it
looked like she was about to grab, yet gentle enough that he hoped
the chip wouldn't fire off. `It looks like it's all about intent,'
he realized, as the chip failed to fire. He pulled her towards him
so he could look into her eyes. "Did you run into anything that
could have cast a spell on you? Maybe while patrolling?" He hadn't
failed to notice that the leather pants she had been wearing – but
wasn't wearing right now – had been the ones she wore for slaying.
He also couldn't help noticing the feminine globes that were being
pressed to his naked chest. He didn't bother trying to keep his eyes
on hers. Buffy noticed and wiggled against him. Spike growled in
response.
"A spell!" he repeated, trying to get her attention. "Did you kill
anything tonight?"
Buffy smiled. "Several vampires. I also scared away a bunch of
demons from the convenience store."
"Anything unusual?" he asked.
"Didn't even have to touch them. I showed up, killed the vampires,
they ran." She tilted her head to indicate her clothes, which were
laying in the sand at their feet. "I didn't want to get demon blood
on my outfit."
"Of course," Spike answered, as if he expected The Slayer to let
demons go because she wanted to keep her clothes clean. Definitely a
spell!
"Okay, before that then," he continued.
Buffy thought for a moment, wiggling her body against him as she did
so. She knew exactly what she was doing. Spike struggled to keep
another encouraging growl from escaping. Then her motion
ceased. "There was this one demon…" she began.
Spike was able to pull his mind back to the conversation, but only
barely. "Yes?" he groaned out, a part of him wishing she would
writhe against him, another part wondering why it was he cared that
she not act under the influence of a spell.
"It was really ugly. It had antlers like a deer, and they dripped
with slime."
`A chaos demon,' Spike realized. "Did you touch the slime?" he asked
aloud.
"What? Are you nuts?" she asked. Her hands, still held against his
sides by his hands on her wrists, made little caressing motions
against him. "That thing was gross. But he did throw some sort of
powder into my face before it ran off."
Spike straightened his arms, pushing Buffy away from him. Bad idea.
Now he could see her breasts. He forced himself to meet her
eyes. "And you breathed it in, right? Bloody hell, Slayer, why
didn't you go to Giles or something? You're under a spell, all
right!"
"I was going to go to Giles' house, honest, but I really wanted some
ice cream. Then I wanted to go swimming." She shifted her stance,
grabbing his wrists so he was held by her and not the other way
around. She pulled him off of his car. "I still want to go
swimming," she announced. "Get those clothes off!"
"No, no, Slayer!" he exclaimed, as she released his hands and lunged
for the waistband of his jeans. He was able to grab her wrists
again, and had to content himself with forcing her hands still
against his hips. She smirked up at him, and he knew without a doubt
that she could get free whenever she wanted.
To be honest, he could think of few things more pleasant than helping
her strip off his jeans and diving into the warm, caressing waves
with the naked Slayer – well, the only thing better would be when
they could do once in the ocean, things he could show her that no
breathing man could do – but he wanted to do it when neither of them
were under a spell. He was a sentimental vampire after all, filled
with residual romantic ideas left him when William's soul left the
body he inhabited.
The spell Buffy was under, he now recognized, was a standard Chaos
Demon spell, one that forced the person under the spell to act out
their every impulse without thought. Put an entire town under this
spell, and chaos and disaster were a certainty. Put The Slayer under
the effect, and Sunnydale was left without a Slayer, at least for a
few hours. Nothing the Watcher and the Witch couldn't handle, he was
sure, so no worries there – not that he would really care if
Sunnydale came under the influence of the Chaos Demons. Might make
for a little bit of fun, especially since vampires are immune.
What really interested him now was the fact that The Slayer, being
forced to act out her impulses, had kidnapped him from his crypt,
made him go on a road trip to the beach, had shimmied out of her
clothes, and was now trying to divest him of his jeans so he could
swim, naked, in the ocean with her. That meant that, spell or not,
The Slayer really did want this, and anything that might happen
between them on this night was an expression of her true feelings!
"Okay," he finally agreed, removing his hands from Buffy's wrists and
letting her undress him the rest of the way. She teased him about
his physical expression of her taunting him; then she grabbed his
hands and pulled him into the ocean after her. The water was still
warm with the captured heat of the day, and as Spike was wrapped in
its caressing embrace The Slayer captured his mouth in a blood-warm
kiss.
The End!
Newer")
Author: Aisuru
Email: aisuru_chan@yahoo.com
Rating: PG13
Summary: Another spell has been cast on poor Buffy, but this time
Willow is not to blame. This spell was cast by a demon, and it is
much more insidious: Buffy must act entirely on impulse! What will
this do to poor Spike?
Buffy had sobered up, and the events of the night before were no
longer funny! At all. `Is this some cruel joke of the powers that
be?' she wondered. `Spike and I keep being thrown together.
Definitely not funny!'
She tried then to focus on anything but Spike, but thoughts of Spike,
much like the vampire himself, were not easy to ignore. She thought
of his lips, his cool kisses, his talented hands, his talented
tongue… `Whoa! Hold it right there!' Buffy thought, stopping in her
tracks as if that would force the train of thought to stop as
well. `I am so not thinking about this. Think about anything else!
Think about… Giles! Yeah, thoughts of Giles are safe. Giles with
his bookish ways and his British accent… British accent… Spike has
a British accent…' It wasn't working.
She forced her steps forward, all thoughts of the patrol she was
supposed to be on swallowed up by thoughts of the vampire she loved
to hate. This was unfortunate, for she didn't see the demon until
she had almost walked into him. "Hey, look where you're going!" she
shouted when a bulk blocked her path. She looked up just in time to
see the demon throw a hand-full of powder into her face. She gasped
in surprise, managing to breathe in a good deal of the substance,
which resulted in a humiliating coughing fit. When she could finally
right herself again, the demon was gone.
"Oh, great!" she complained, turning around to leave the
graveyard. "I guess I have to see Giles now." She had just exited
the cemetery when she was struck by an impulse. She wanted ice-
cream! She redirected her steps to the 24 hour convenience store.
The bell over the door chimed happily at her approach. The inhuman
patrons of the store – for no human citizens of Sunnydale were stupid
enough to shop after dark – were not so happy at her presence, and
decided to let her know just that. "I've been wanting a good fight!"
she exclaimed, and set to work at kicking the collective butts of
every inhabitant in the store. When the vampires had been staked and
the demons scared off – she didn't feel like getting demon blood or
other anonymous fluids on her clothes – she headed for the frozen
food case.
"Ice-cream!" she moaned with desire as she searched for and found her
favorite. She grabbed a plastic spoon from the dispenser near the
microwave, and headed to the cashier counter. "Give me some sugar,
baby!" she exclaimed, setting the pint on the counter, but the
cashier, who had also been inhuman, was nowhere in sight. With a
shrug, she placed a five dollar bill on the counter and left the
store.
"Ice-cream!" she sighed as she shoveled spoonfuls of the icy goodness
into her mouth. So cool and sensuous, just like… "Just like Spike!"
she thought. "I want to see Spike!"
She had almost reached Spike's crypt when another desire flooded her
mind. She wanted to go swimming! The beach wasn't walking distance
from Sunnydale, but Spike had a car…
"Spike!" she yelled, slamming open the door to his crypt.
Spike was sitting in his favorite chair watching the television.
Luckily for him he had sensed her approach – it was hard to miss the
smell of Slayer, after all – and had time to turn off the videotape
of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and take a good chug of his vodka
before she entered.
"You come here to give it to me good about last night?" he asked with
a snarl. "Wasn't my fault anymore than it was yours. Like I'd ever
want to be Angel!" Spike wanted to spit from saying the name of his
hated sire, but he had just cleaned the crypt, so he drank some more
vodka instead.
"Nope. I'm kidnapping you!" she exclaimed happily. She was happy
because she was going to go swimming, but Spike didn't know this, so
her mood was throwing him for a loop. He hid his confusion with a
laugh.
"You? Kidnap me?" he asked, his tone of voice expressing that such a
thing wasn't in the realm of the possible. Then he remembered his
chip, and that it would be very easy for her to kidnap him, and he
decided that baiting her probably wasn't the best of ideas. Besides,
her eyes had a funny look to them. Maybe she was under another
spell; she did seem to be a spell magnet of late. "Why would you
want to do that?" he asked instead.
"Because I want to go swimming. You have a car. You are going to
drive me to the beach!" She answered him in full confidence, as if
there was nothing unusual about the command.
"Swimming?" he asked. "Sorry to disappoint you, pet, but we vampires
aren't big on the whole beach scene. Bad sunburns to be had there."
Buffy's smile had dropped a little. "It is night. You are going to
drive me to the beach now." She was still holding her pint of ice-
cream in one hand and a spoon in the other, so she didn't bother
showing him the stake she was carrying in the waistband of her
leather pants. Instead she took a big bite of ice-cream to punctuate
her words.
Spike decided to get some clarification. "You want me, Spike, a
vampire with a chip that isn't doing anybody and harm except my
fellow beasties, to drive you, The Slayer, to the beach in the middle
of the night so you can go swimming?"
Buffy's smile brightened. "Yup!" She walked up to him, grabbing
onto his arm, and pulled him out of the crypt. Spike managed to not
drop the bottle of vodka. If he was going to spend the evening with
Buffy, he was going to need it!
He showed her where he stored his car, she made her normal negative
comments about its age and ugliness and its blacked out windows. He
threatened to not drive her to the beach if she kept up her
complaining. She retorted by flinging a spoonful of ice-cream at
him. Spike glared at her as chocolate ice-cream melted in his
platinum blond hair. A curl came free of the gel and hung, dripping
chocolate, over his eyes. He growled. Buffy laughed.
Finally they were on the road, Spike grumbling and growling under his
breath – that was more of a habit than anything else – and Buffy
scraping the last drops of melted ice-cream from the bottom of her
cardboard carton. Then she threw the carton into the car's back seat.
"Hey! Have some more respect for the car!" he cried out in
annoyance, trying to reach behind him for the carton, which was
impossible to find amid all the clutter.
"Hey!" Buffy mimicked. "Shut up!" She reached for the radio and
turned it on. Making a face at Spike's station, she started fiddling
with it, trying out every station on the dial for about 4 seconds
before changing it to the next.
"That is so bloody annoying!" Spike exclaimed. "I have half a mind
to throw you out of the car. Without stopping first."
"Ooh, I wonder how the chip would react to that!" she exclaimed. She
turned the radio back to her station – the surfing had been done to
ignore Spike – and began shouting along to the song. Slayers have
many talents, but driving – and singing along with the radio – are
not among them.
Spike was very thankful when they finally reached the beach. The
beach was, of course, closed, so there was nobody to yell at him for
driving his hulk of a car over the protected dunes and parking right
by the shore. "Here we are, Slayer. Now get out of my car!"
"You're coming, too," she said, her smile – which Spike was sure was
the result of a spell – back in place.
"No way!" he disagreed. "I didn't bring any trunks! Besides, I
already told you, swimming is not high on the list of vampire
pastimes.
Buffy slid across the bucket seats towards the vampire, opened his
car door, and pushed him out and onto the sand with a strong Slayer
shove. Spike growled up at her from where he lay, sprawled on his
back, sand getting into his jeans and Doc Martins, but there was
nothing else he could do to retaliate. `Damn chip!' he thought.
What Buffy did next he could never have predicted. She jumped out of
the car, her legs on either side of his hips, and started untying the
strings that held up her skimpy tied-on top. It was obvious she was
wearing nothing underneath. "What are you doing?" he asked her. He
tried to scoot away from her, but a high-heeled foot pressed down on
his chest, holding him in place.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" she asked. "We're going
swimming. You didn't think I was going to go swimming in my clothes,
did you?"
Spike blinked. He hadn't thought about it at all. In fact, he had
planned on driving off and abandoning The Slayer at the beach – after
all, there was only so much he could do for fun these days.
Then the shirt was off, and she dropped it onto his face. He started
to lift the shirt off from over his eyes, but then he heard the
zipper of her leather pants being lowered, and decided it was a good
idea to just leave the shirt over his face. `No sense getting myself
all worked up over her again,' he thought.
He felt the leather fall onto his lap as she stepped out of the legs
of her pants. Then she was tugging on his arms. "Skinny dipping is
fun! Get those clothes off!" she said.
He was helpless as she drug him to his feet, shoved him against the
hood of his car, and began undressing him. In his surprise, he was
no match for slayer strength. He kept his eyes closed. There was
something in him that had always loved the dominate and be dominated
parts of sexual play, and Buffy's rough treatment of him as she
yanked his boots from his feet and pulled his black T-shirt over his
head was having a physical effect on him. He tried desperately to
shove her away when she reached for the button-fly of his black jeans.
"Buffy," he said, trying to keep his voice calm as he struggled with
her. "I think you're under a spell! You don't really want to do
this!"
Buffy looked up at him in surprise and laughed. "I threatened Willow
with a painful death if she cast any more spells on me. She wouldn't
dare!"
"Then maybe something else did it," he reasoned. He slapped her
hands away a little too roughly and got a nice shock to the brain for
his trouble. When the throbbing in his temples subsided enough for
him to be aware of his surroundings again, she was on the last button
of his fly.
"Ooh!" she teased. "Looks like you have something here for me!"
He grabbed her wrists, firm enough so she wouldn't grab what it
looked like she was about to grab, yet gentle enough that he hoped
the chip wouldn't fire off. `It looks like it's all about intent,'
he realized, as the chip failed to fire. He pulled her towards him
so he could look into her eyes. "Did you run into anything that
could have cast a spell on you? Maybe while patrolling?" He hadn't
failed to notice that the leather pants she had been wearing – but
wasn't wearing right now – had been the ones she wore for slaying.
He also couldn't help noticing the feminine globes that were being
pressed to his naked chest. He didn't bother trying to keep his eyes
on hers. Buffy noticed and wiggled against him. Spike growled in
response.
"A spell!" he repeated, trying to get her attention. "Did you kill
anything tonight?"
Buffy smiled. "Several vampires. I also scared away a bunch of
demons from the convenience store."
"Anything unusual?" he asked.
"Didn't even have to touch them. I showed up, killed the vampires,
they ran." She tilted her head to indicate her clothes, which were
laying in the sand at their feet. "I didn't want to get demon blood
on my outfit."
"Of course," Spike answered, as if he expected The Slayer to let
demons go because she wanted to keep her clothes clean. Definitely a
spell!
"Okay, before that then," he continued.
Buffy thought for a moment, wiggling her body against him as she did
so. She knew exactly what she was doing. Spike struggled to keep
another encouraging growl from escaping. Then her motion
ceased. "There was this one demon…" she began.
Spike was able to pull his mind back to the conversation, but only
barely. "Yes?" he groaned out, a part of him wishing she would
writhe against him, another part wondering why it was he cared that
she not act under the influence of a spell.
"It was really ugly. It had antlers like a deer, and they dripped
with slime."
`A chaos demon,' Spike realized. "Did you touch the slime?" he asked
aloud.
"What? Are you nuts?" she asked. Her hands, still held against his
sides by his hands on her wrists, made little caressing motions
against him. "That thing was gross. But he did throw some sort of
powder into my face before it ran off."
Spike straightened his arms, pushing Buffy away from him. Bad idea.
Now he could see her breasts. He forced himself to meet her
eyes. "And you breathed it in, right? Bloody hell, Slayer, why
didn't you go to Giles or something? You're under a spell, all
right!"
"I was going to go to Giles' house, honest, but I really wanted some
ice cream. Then I wanted to go swimming." She shifted her stance,
grabbing his wrists so he was held by her and not the other way
around. She pulled him off of his car. "I still want to go
swimming," she announced. "Get those clothes off!"
"No, no, Slayer!" he exclaimed, as she released his hands and lunged
for the waistband of his jeans. He was able to grab her wrists
again, and had to content himself with forcing her hands still
against his hips. She smirked up at him, and he knew without a doubt
that she could get free whenever she wanted.
To be honest, he could think of few things more pleasant than helping
her strip off his jeans and diving into the warm, caressing waves
with the naked Slayer – well, the only thing better would be when
they could do once in the ocean, things he could show her that no
breathing man could do – but he wanted to do it when neither of them
were under a spell. He was a sentimental vampire after all, filled
with residual romantic ideas left him when William's soul left the
body he inhabited.
The spell Buffy was under, he now recognized, was a standard Chaos
Demon spell, one that forced the person under the spell to act out
their every impulse without thought. Put an entire town under this
spell, and chaos and disaster were a certainty. Put The Slayer under
the effect, and Sunnydale was left without a Slayer, at least for a
few hours. Nothing the Watcher and the Witch couldn't handle, he was
sure, so no worries there – not that he would really care if
Sunnydale came under the influence of the Chaos Demons. Might make
for a little bit of fun, especially since vampires are immune.
What really interested him now was the fact that The Slayer, being
forced to act out her impulses, had kidnapped him from his crypt,
made him go on a road trip to the beach, had shimmied out of her
clothes, and was now trying to divest him of his jeans so he could
swim, naked, in the ocean with her. That meant that, spell or not,
The Slayer really did want this, and anything that might happen
between them on this night was an expression of her true feelings!
"Okay," he finally agreed, removing his hands from Buffy's wrists and
letting her undress him the rest of the way. She teased him about
his physical expression of her taunting him; then she grabbed his
hands and pulled him into the ocean after her. The water was still
warm with the captured heat of the day, and as Spike was wrapped in
its caressing embrace The Slayer captured his mouth in a blood-warm
kiss.
The End!