Title: Intoxicated

Chapter: User

Author: Keysuna

Episode: Dead Things

Rating: R for drug use and sexual content

Authors Note: I did a good amount of research on the influences of heroin in preparation for this fic so I'm hoping that I got my facts straight. If anyone catches a mistake in the story and knows the exact effects of the drug I'd love to hear what I did wrong.

Many thanks to Winter for the fabulous BETA

Disclaimer: Mary Jane is property of Alanis Morissette.

***

What's the matter Mary Jane, you had a hard day

As you place the don't disturb sign on the door

You lost your place in line again, what a pity

You never seem to want to dance anymore

It's a long way down

On this roller coaster

The last chance streetcar

Went off the track

And you're on it.

***

The wind blew restlessly across the cemetery, sending stray particles of dust into the soft light of dawn. Autumn had quickly fallen into winter, bringing with it longer nights and shorter days, and Buffy had adjusted her life schedule to accommodate the change.

As a child she had suffered from insomnia with fitful nights of forced slumber. She had learned from an early age to open her windows and read from the light of the moon and stars. Only when heavy fogs rolled over the coast did she crawl into bed and count sheep until sleep finally took her.

When the dreams started it became even harder to find rest. They filled her mind with endless images of the past and of the power that lay within her. Demons and monsters walked in her sleep and left her gasping for breath when she awoke. But by that time she had found the courage to slip out of bed and watch late night programs until the sun peeked over the horizon.

Her father would occasionally catch her in front of the glow of the television in the early hours of the morning. She would be scolded at and sent back to her room with harsh words and empty threats. As she grew older her parents became more lenient of her insomnia and allowed her the privilege of wandering the house past midnight as long as she didn't disturb Dawn.

But by that time she had become caught up in the thrill of disobeying her parents. The familiar chill of danger that had once before ran through her blood while creeping down the stairs in the dead of night was sorely missed now that the behavior was allowed.

She had just entered the realm of adolescence; fresh from her twelfth birthday and ready to test the limits of her parents trust. As a seventh grader she climbed the ropes of popularity quickly and with ease above the envois gaze of her peers. She soon garnered the attention of the upper classmen and acquired a taste for older men.

Her first real boyfriend was Cody Medina, an eighth grader who skipped class and sold drugs outside the unsuspecting principles office. She never introduced him to her parents knowing they wouldn't approve, but her mother confronted her about it one week into the relationship. Gossip spreads quickly in the junior high environment where anyone else's life is a thousand times more interesting and important than your own. So everyone knew about Cody and Buffy, the rich white girl and the drug dealing Mexican.

Her mother was concerned that she was falling in with the wrong crowed and Buffy assured her that Cody was alright. The rumors of his involvement with graffiti and stealing were just lies spread around by ignorant students who had nothing better to do with their time. And Joyce trusted her daughter's judgment with boys, even ones who wore silver chains and spoke in curses and slang.

At their three week anniversary Cody invited her to a party his friends were throwing. Seducing her on promises of alcohol, drugs and empty bedrooms he convinced her to come. She had previously admitted to him that she was a virgin when it came to illegal substances and he swore to fix that the night of the party.

She told her father she was spending the night at her friend Jenna's house. Apart of her felt guilty stepping out the door with her parents trust in her pocket but she shook it off. Dusk had fallen when she arrived at the party to find Cody already there, eyes blood shot and a burnt joint in his hand. She nearly gagged when he leaned into kiss her from the taste of smoke in his mouth. He didn't seem to notice her disgust as he waved over another friend. She recognized the boy as Armando in her PE class and stood awkwardly as the party went on around her. Eventually, Armando handed her a blunt and offered to light it once she took it with shaky hands.

The first drags she took were slow until she became accustomed to the taste. It felt warm between her fingertips and made her feel special as Cody watched her with a pleased smile on his face. After the blunt was burnt out he led her to a cooler and handed her a beer. She popped off the cap, still feeling normal and took a long sip. The flavor of alcohol was a familiar one as she had been allowed wine and other liquors growing up under the careful eye of her parents. She held the chilled bottle and took leisurely sips as she listened to Cody relate a story to a ring of people they had wandered into.

The marijuana begun to take effect once she finished the beer. Her head became light and her thoughts fuzzy and she could no longer focus on what Cody was saying. Not that she cared as he handed her another bottle, being kind enough to already snap off the top.

She couldn't say how many beers she went through before Cody lead her into the house. When he leaned into kiss her this time she no longer cared about the smoke that clung to his body or the rough way he held her hips. They stumbled their way into an abandon room and crashed onto the bed.

Her metabolism carried the marijuana and alcohol quicker through her body then most and so left her completely oblivious as Cody led her hand to the growing bulge inside his pants. She reached second base that night and wasn't able to remember if he had returned the favor or how she ended up back outside just as dawn was beginning to break. She threw up on the damp grass while day swept away the night until she begun to dry heave and had to wipe the vomit from her expensive blouse. When she cleaned it away with her palms she found there were cum stains as well. A few other people were still in the yard when she decided to stagger home. She thought she saw Armando passed out on the patio but decided against checking it out as a sharp ache started to pound in her head.

It wasn't until Monday that she saw Cody again. His eyes were no longer bloodshot but when he leaned into kiss her she could still smell smoke.

The next day she broke up with him.

The effects of the drinking and weed were purged from her system quick but she still felt sick for day's afterwards. From then on she swore to only date good boys, the kind who she could show off to her parents proudly. Weeks later she was still paranoid that she would be tempted into using drugs again. She didn't want to become an addict, dependent on a substance that would lead her only to bloodshot eyes and stained blouses.

***

Buffy gazed uncertainly at the crypt in front of her. She had sorely missed that rush of excitement that came with sneaking behind her parents back and felt chills run across her skin as she moved determinedly toward Spike's crypt. The sun had just risen above the horizon but with it came little warmth. Even a cloudless sky brought chilled winds and basked the earth in a cold winter light. Buffy shivered, not altogether from the season's weather and took large strides toward the stone house.

The rush of being caught in a demon's embrace is what kept her alive these days. She wasn't sure if it was slipping out of the house silently or coming under his nimble fingers that drove her to him, but she wasn't sure she wanted the answer to that either.

She pressed her palm against the cold stone and took in a deep sigh. A five hour shift at the Double Meat Palace awaited her later in the day and she rationalized this was the best way to spend her precious free time. Chances were Spike was sleeping, or watching television while a cigarette burned in his hand.

Gathering herself she pushed the heavy stone door open and slipped in, careful to not let any of the poisonous rays fall into the crypt. She was met with black and silence as she careful picked her way across the long shadows of the room. It was evident that this floor of the crypt was barren and she bit her lip, trying to determine if she should go to the lower level or not.

Her curiosity finally took the best of her and she lowered herself down the ladder. She heard nothing as she touched the ground, but she hadn't lived this far without knowing the vampires were silent creatures. Letting go of the ladder she turned around to view the bedroom.

Spike sat on the edge of the large bed, eyes half closed and mouth partly gaped. His black shirt was unbuttoned giving her a clear view of his pale chest. He propped himself on his hands and seemed oblivious to her entrance. His bright eyes were hidden by long lashes and droopy lids but his attention was obviously away from reality.

She took a tentative step closer and noticed that he was taking in shallow, unnecessary breaths.

"Slayer." He breathed in recognition not stirring from his position. Buffy nearly jumped from the sudden show of life in the still figure that was Spike. Slowly he rolled his shoulder and looked back toward the ceiling. A sigh escaped his lips and he casually straightened up on the bed so that his now alert eyes watched her.

"There something you wanted pet?" He prompted for her when the forbearing silence became evident. Spike stood from the bed and came toward her, circling her curiously. His cold stare looked her over and she could feel her blood begin to quicken throughout her body.

She took in a shaky breath and started to say something but quickly dismissed the words. Ideal chitchat was for lovers who could meet under the soft rays of the sun, not for the two of them. Her eyes met his shakily and she noticed his pupils were strictly dilated.

When he moved into kiss her she didn't protest. Sliding a hand around his neck she brought him closer to her and felt a stirring in his pants.

Never did take much to get him aroused.

He wrapped her in an embrace, not breaking the kiss, and led her to the bed. Gently he laid her against the soft mattress and pressed deep kisses into her neck and face as his hands slid up her stomach and under her shirt to cup a breast in each hand. He rubbed her nipples with the callused pad of his thumbs and stole her breath in another passionate kiss.

Impatient for more then foreplay, Buffy pushed him away and tugged her shirt off. He stood, watching her begin to unclasp her bra when her eyes fell on a silver glint hidden under the folded blankets. Tossing him a confused look she picked the object up and examined it.

It was a syringe.

"What's this for?" She asked, rolling her eyes to meet his.

His gaze grew wide and he came to sit next to her. For a moment he was captured by the serious and intrigued look on her face as she turned the syringe in her fingers. He placed his larger hand over hers and took the needle from her grasp.

"Nothing to concern you luv."

She shot him an irritated glance and grabbed her shirt, threatening to redress. "Why do you have a needle Spike?" Her tone was cold.

Damn. He sighed bitterly and stood up. Giving a glance toward her he nodded to himself and his thin lips curved into a pleased smile. "Its smack."

For a moment her eyes glazed over in thought. "Don't recognize the name Slayer?" He asked smugly.

"I'm not completely ignorant." She shot at him. "I just didn't know you were into that kind of stuff."

He cocked an eyebrow at her naiveté and threw the syringe up, catching it again with both of his palms. "Don't live a century and some without getting a taste of all there is."

She shook her head at him and stood from the bed, her unsatisfied sexual desire suddenly gone. "I should be heading back." Buffy dismissed the topic, shaking her head as she took her shirt and walked past Spike, but he grabbed her arm to stop her.

Taking a breath to calm herself she turned back toward him. "What?"

"Me being the bad host and all." He said coyly, a smirk in his eyes. "Never asked if you wanted to try."

Numerous anti-drug commercials flashed through her head at the offer and she thought back to her one experience with drugs. She quickly shook it from her mind and met his amused gaze with cold eyes.

"C'mon Slayer." He urged her as he let go of her arm and circled around her so that he could draw up against her back. Placing his hands on both of her hips he breathed in her scent and brushed his lips against her ear. "Know you'll like it."

She didn't move and the only evidence he had that she had heard him was the shortness of her breath. Grinning to himself he licked the skin of her neck and kissed the tender spot until she moaned. Buffy moved away from him and for a moment he thought he might have scared her off again to the sun, but instead she brought him into a passionate kiss. This time he succeeded in slipping her out of her bra so she was unclothed from the waist up. Trailing kisses down her collarbone and stomach he dipped his tongue into her navel and kneeled down. He tugged at her jeans until they slid to her ankles, revealing a silk thong stained with her musk. Shifting the thin piece of material aside he buried his mouth between her thighs and was satisfied with the sharp gasps of pleasure from above.

Buffy combed her fingers through his hair as he teased her clit with his tongue.

Just as he sensed her near the edge he drew away and leaned back on his heels. Amusement glinted in his blue gaze and she rubbed her thighs together for needed friction.

"Are you going to continue?" She asked in an aggravated gasp.

Shrugging he crawled over and parted her legs with one hand. He examined her pulsing clit and licked his lips in satisfaction.

"Spike." She moaned, her arousal growing in leaps and bounds with the agonizing wait.

He glanced up at her, accusing her of impatience and flicked her clit with his index finger. In a gasp of pain she spilled into orgasm and collapsed on the bed.

For long moments he watched her. Heaving breasts and sweat slicked legs that twisted together in pleased relief. Her cropped hair splayed across the white of the mattress and he made a move to run his hand through it, but instead kept still. She was too beautiful and fragile like this to risk scaring off with a simple gesture.

"It never lasts long enough." Buffy sighed, rolling her head toward him. "For a second I get to forget about everything. You know, Dawn's failing French right now? I should have told her not to take it, but wait," She licked her dry lips. "I was dead when she chose the class." With a heavy breath she straightened up and looked wistfully around before her gaze landed on Spike. Slowly, as though struggling with the words she asked him, "Will it make me forget?"

Spike took her small hands and placed a kiss on her knuckles. "It'll make it not matter anymore." He assured her and leapt off the bed to retrieve the needle and drug.

She watched him spill the liquid into the syringe. He eyed it with a certain calculation in his gaze and then bounded back to her.

Grabbing her wrist he turned her arm over so the pale underside was facing him. With practiced hands he placed the needle above the purple line of her vein. "Ready?"

She closed her eyes and nodded. Blood rushed through her body and rang in her ears with anticipation. Her last brush with drugs and ended with a sickening taste in her mouth, but that had been with a young boy, with a few puffs of a natural weed. The circumstances here fated to be more interesting. She was being exposed to a heavier drug by a centuries old demon that had only her wants and needs in mind.

The needle pricked her skin and she winced even though the pain was minimal. Instantly her body surged with pleasure that left her gasping in shock. Her skin became flushed with warmth and her mouth dry, as though she had been dropped in the middle of a desert. The feeling traveled downward and seemed to settle between her thighs. It left the area heavy with need and uncomfortable. For moments that might have stretched into hours she rode the rush until the extreme ecstasy of it waned.

Just as she begun to swim back to reality her head spun into dizziness and her body lurched. Vomit rose in her throat and it flashed through her head that throwing up on Spikes sheets was a bad thing. She doubled over and heaved onto the floor instead.

Spike had her by the shoulders when she regained herself. Her reflex to vomit was gone but her head still swam with nausea. She kept her eyes closed and stayed still, willing the world around her to stop. The pleasant warmth on her skin started to itch to the point of pain and she tried to struggle out of Spike's grasp.

"Calm down pet." He whispered in her ear and if she had been more aware of her surroundings she would have noticed the uncertainty in his voice.

She started to shiver with the near pain of the acute effects. Spike watched her suffering figure and pressed deep kisses into her neck to calm her.

In time she relaxed in his arms and her breathing became slow. Her limbs were limp in his grasp and eyes heavy with the drugs. He laid her down on the bed, propping her head on the pillows and came to stand above her.

Buffy felt the world melt away below her as her body became enveloped in euphoria. The struggle of breathing and living disappeared as time slowed to a crawl. Everything felt so far way, even the watching eyes of Spike seemed miles off. This was the bliss of ignorance and the unrivaled pleasure of orgasm from the clear substance of a needle.

She fell deeper into the stupor of intoxication and walked in paradise for the second time.

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