A/N: I recently got the entire series of Buffy the Vampire Slayer in one box set, so now I'm rewatching the series and getting all kinds of lovely plotbunnies...most of them Dark. This one is sprung out of the episode School Hard (Season 2, Spike's first appearence ever). I should warn you that this fic is VERY dark. There is character death and borderline rape. Spike is being a very bad dog. You've been warned, so proceed at your own risk.

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The problem most vampires have with killing a Slayer is that they hesitate. They know that they are going up against somebody who is almost certainly stronger…somebody whose life mission is to destroy them. They might not admit this openly…no vampire with a shred of self-worth will openly admit weakness…but deep down they know that they are outmatched, even if they can't admit the fact to themselves.

This hidden fear causes them to lose all sense of logic. They foolishly announce their presence and begin to play a game of cat and mouse, hoping that the time they take to assess their prey will give them the edge they need to do what few can…slay the Slayer.

But as they are taking the time to learn the Slayer, she is learning them as well. And their initial hesitation inevitably leads to their downfall. The hunter becomes the hunted, and they fall to ash.

But not Spike.

He already has the blood of two Slayers coursing in his veins. Their power is now part of his own, making him strong before his time. He has no fluffy inner doubts about whether he can stand up to a Slayer. He's passed that test twice over, and his heart yearns to give it a third go.

He sees her sitting at a table with her friends. To a normal person, and even other vampires weaker than himself, she would seem to be just an ordinary girl out enjoying the only nightlife this pathetic town has to offer. But he can sense the power rolling off her in waves, and it calls to him. She keeps glancing anxiously at the door, obviously waiting for some boy. A Slayer with a social life…how precious. Maybe he'll eat one of her friends for dessert when he's through with her. The cute redhead is all sweetness and light, and his mouth waters at the thought of sinking his fangs into her.

But not until he is through with the Slayer. He has priorities, after all.

He gracefully slides up behind her, like a cat stalking its prey. He waits until her two friends wander off to refresh their drinks…waits until she is completely alone. Without bothering to ask for consent, he slips his arms around her waist. He is a vampire…he does not need to fear rejection or humiliation like the mortals do. This sheer confidence has allowed him to seduce many a meal in his day. But she does not tense up at the feel of his cold arms wrapped around her as he expected. Instead, she snuggles closer and murmurs "Angel" as a content smile ghosts across her face.

No…it couldn't be. Angel…Angelus…dating the bloody Slayer? He's heard the rumors…poor Angelus was a cautionary tale for vamps worldwide. 'Watch out kiddies…you much on the wrong girl and you might get cursed with a soul.' And he's even gotten wind of the more horrifying news…that Angelus has slain Darla, his own bloody sire, and even aided in the death of the Master. He knew coming in that his disgrace of a mentor was the Slayer's lapdog…he just hadn't realized how literally that statement could be taken. Angelus romantically involved with the Slayer he is about to feast on. That is just…

Perfect.

"I'm not your Angel, I'm afraid," Spike murmurs into her ear. "I'm someone much, much better," he adds, his voice full of promise.

Now she tenses, turning around and staring at him with shocked, embarrassed eyes. He brushes a finger over her lips, silencing her before any of her teenage babble can spill out.

"Dance with me, luv," he says, commanding rather than asking as he leads her out onto the dance floor.

"Who are you?" she whispers, her body trembling slightly in response to his hands as they begin idly roaming over her body.

"Whoever you want me to be," he replies huskily, allowing his lips to graze against her ear.

He pulls her flush against him then, grinding her body against his as they pulse in time to the music. She closes her eyes and loses herself for the moment, allowing this stranger to give her what Angel seems unwilling to. Some part of her, deep down, recognizes that he is a vampire, but she attributes the tension in her body to lust, not danger, and her awareness of his undead status never reaches her conscious mind.

Taking advantage of her pliant state, Spike inches her ever so slowly off the dance floor, until they are secluded in a shadowy corner. She doesn't even realize her predicament until he pushes her gently against the wall, at which point she snaps out of her daze, staring up at him with wide, trembling eyes.

Yet again, he hushes her before she can speak, and as his fingers trace over her lips, he leans down for a passionate kiss. She returns the kiss with equal ferocity, and for a moment, he is tempted to see whether he can be the first vampire to ever fuck a Slayer…well, a willing one, that is. But while the idea of deflowering her against the wall of a noisy dance club is deliciously tempting, he knows better than to waste his advantage. She will never be as vulnerable as she is now, moaning into his mouth and making little mewling noises of pleasure as her nails rake down his back.

His momentary flight of fancy abandoned as quickly as it came about, he allows his lips to drift from her mouth to the long length of her neck. His hand comes up to caress the side of her face, and she is taken completely by surprise when the hand that seemed so gentle suddenly covers her mouth as he bites down, smothering any cry of protest she might utter.

Spike drinks deeply at first, glutting on her blood until her thrashing and wild squirming dulls to a weak trembling. But he isn't completely without class. He knows that the death of a Slayer is something to be savored, like a fine glass of wine. So when he senses that she is finally too weak to fight back, he pauses in his feeding and resumes lavishing attention on her delectable body.

As his hands roam casually over her breasts and down her stomach, he can feel her trembling arms vainly seeking out anything nearby that she could use to attack him. Never one to underestimate a Slayer, even one as near death as her, he grabs her arms and pins them above her head. He then resumes kissing her, the tears running down her face adding a delicious flavor of fear and desperation that their earlier kisses were lacking.

Now that she is beyond the point where she could ever hope to slay him, Spike begins to rethink his earlier desire to take her against the wall of the Bronze. It would be simple, really. The inching up of a skirt…the lowering of a zipper…and she would be completely accessible to him.

But no…he mustn't lose focus.

His nancyboy sire was expected here tonight. It wouldn't do to tarnish his crowning achievement of defeating a third Slayer by ending the night as a pile of ash at the hands of an enraged Angelus. He'd seen what that vampire could do when angry, and he had no misconceptions that the warm fuzzy feelings Angelus now felt for humans would carry over to him if he ever discovered that he'd fed upon Angelus' current obsession. As tempting as it was, he couldn't be caught with his pants around his ankles at a crucial moment.

Instead, he contented himself with grinding against her, pushing her fiercely against the wall as he continued his assault upon her mouth. He could feel her blood rushing through his veins now, and the power of it was invigorating beyond belief. This slip of a girl had so much more power than the others he had fed upon…so much untapped potential that could have blossomed into the deadliest of weapons against his kind if he hadn't snatched her up at such an early point in her career. His whole body shuddered with pleasure at his good fortune, her muffled sobs vibrating against his lips only adding to his joy.

Transferring both of her tiny hands into one of his own, he kept her arms safely pinned against the wall as his other hand traveled down her body, lifting one lithe, tanned leg and wrapping it around his waist. His hardened member could now press firmly against her core, her virtually non-existent panties and his jeans the only things separating them from mating there against the wall. Her muffled screams grew in intensity as he bucked against her, his lips devouring her mouth as he used her squirming body to bring him release. As he finally slipped over the edge, he released her hands and roughly yanked her head to the side, feeding from her one last time. He could feel her arms frantically beating against his back, becoming weaker by the second as she tried in vain to somehow push him away, but he did not stop until he was completely spent and her body hung limp in his arms.

Glancing around cautiously to make sure he was still unobserved, he arranged her body artfully at a nearby table. Then, as an afterthought, he snapped her neck, just to ensure that, by some feat of miraculous Slayer healing, she had not survived his attack. To any onlooker, she would appear to be a girl who had perhaps had too much to drink, but his preternatural senses could already smell the stench of death beginning to settle in.

It was a wonderful night's achievement. But his work was not yet done.

No, as much as he wished to return to his Drusilla and revel the night away, he forced himself to slink back into the shadows. Anyone who had seen him dancing with the Slayer would easily be able to describe him to Angelus, and there would be no place on this Earth that would shelter Spike from his wrath once Angelus discovered what Spike had done this night. His sire possessed a single-mindedness that was legendary when he set himself to a task.

So Spike would lie in wait, using his enemy's vulnerability to his advantage, just as he had with the Slayer. And when Angelus crept into the club, his soulful eyes seeking out his star-crossed lover, he would find only a decaying corpse. In that moment of discovery, when Angelus was weak with shock and grief, Spike would attack, using the Slayer's own stake to reduce her love to a pile of dust. It would be bloody brilliant.

And afterwards, he might even see if he had room for that redheaded dessert he had spied earlier.