The Dance

For: eyesthatslay
Rating: R
Request: Canon-based, S2. Other characters: Wes or an angry alpaca. :P I'd like to see your take on Spike watching Buffy at the Bronze, then following her out into the alley where they fight...but he gets the upper hand and bites her and it gets sexy. :D

Response: Despite the temptation, I declined to include Wes or the angry alpaca. I decided to go with just Buffy and Spike on this one. The summary pretty much matches what she asked for - except they go to the alley together...

Author's Note: The original mega-drabble ended with this line: As his hands cover her body, all Buffy can think is that the fight is over but the dance has just begun. I wrote an extension (included here) for eyesthatslay 's birthday.




“Saw you dancing.” A voice from very close behind her makes Buffy jump. She turns to find a bleached blond leaning against the bar with a smirk. As his eyes sweep down her body, she gets both pissed and turned on at the same time. And then pissed again for getting turned on. She strives to return a chilly look.

“Yeah? And?” She sips her water, glancing around to see that Willow and Xander are back on the dance floor.

He moves a little closer and her alarm bells start to ring. Vampire. Hot vampire. She gulps. It’s easier when they are bumpy-faced and not gorgeous. “Very nice. Want to dance with me, pet? Maybe outside?” He cocks his head towards the alley door.

“Eww. Is that some kind of pick-up line, buddy? Not too smooth - “

“Thought the Slayer was always up for a good...dance.” The way his eyes hit hers makes Buffy’s breath catch. Oh, that kind of dance. She’s almost sorry to dust him and remove the eye candy. Damn Slayer business.

She gestures toward the back door. “Shall we?” He nods and heads for the door, Buffy close behind. Buffy shakes her head at this odd vampire.

When they reach the alley, she speaks up. “I have to ask. What made you think I wouldn’t stake you on the way out here? I am the Slayer, after all.”

He moves closer to her. Close enough to make her take an involuntary step back. “I told you, I’ve seen you move, seen you dance. You enjoy it. You wouldn’t deny yourself.” He grins at her.

Somehow, Buffy doesn’t know how to start punching an opponent who just flirts with her. Normally, they jump her from a bush or something. “What’s your name?”

He tilts his head at her slightly. The game is getting interesting. “Spike. And you are...? I’d hate to just call you Slayer.”

“Buffy.”

He snorts slightly. “Doesn’t exactly instill fear, love.”

In the space of fifteen seconds, Buffy has Spike against the nearest brick wall, stake above his heart, just touching the fabric of his shirt. Her body holds him there, her other hand on his shoulder. “It’s not the name that does it, Spike.

And then he reacts in a way no other vampire has at the end of her stake. He laughs. “Damn, Buffy. You’re the hottest Slayer I’ve ever...” She pokes the stake a little harder and he stops. “Now, now. We’re just getting started, aren’t we?”

And the game is on. To the outside observer, it is a violent fight, full of punching, kicking, throwing and crashing. To the two engaged, it turns into something else altogether.

Spike holds Buffy against the wall, her chest heaving, heart racing in a fit of fear and arousal. She has the strength to fight back, but the will is slipping. He looks down at her, his prey appearing to be trapped, but his intentions are shifting. The rise and fall of her breasts, the flush in her cheeks and the gleam in her eyes give him ideas. But first, a taste.

Buffy gasps as his face changes and he leans to her neck in a blur. The sharp pain of his teeth piercing her skin startles her, freezing her on the spot. Her brain screams to move, to fight, to kick, but her body betrays her. Her heart races faster and faster as her fingers dig into his upper arms. And then, it stops. He stops. Spike stands up, face slipping back to human. A look of lust replacing the ridges and bumps. They freeze, staring at each other before they move at once, mouths crashing together in a bruising kiss.

As his hands cover her body, all Buffy can think is that the fight is over but the dance has just begun.


Buffy’s fingers shake slightly as she runs them over her lips. The same lips which are sore and slightly swollen. No one has ever kissed her with such force, such violence. No one ever made her body rise to the occasion with such speed and such a powerful surge of desire.

And the one who did this to her? An evil bloodsucking demon.

Buffy shakes her head. “Just my luck.” Her fingers trail lower towards a reminder of the ‘bloodsucking’ part of her recent encounter. She winces as her fingers find the raw punctures in her neck. Buffy is quite sure there is no way the Slayer is supposed to let any vampires, no matter how sexy and British they are, bite her neck. It’s just not done.

Though when his hands trailed up and under her shirt, she managed to remember where she was and who she was and who he is. Her Slayer-powered knee to the groin dropped him like a rock and Buffy ran. She ran as fast as her wobbly legs would carry her, stopping only when she turned onto Revello Drive. Gasping for air, she limped to her front door and fumbled the keys into the lock. And now, minutes later, she stands in front of her bedroom mirror, examining the aftermath of some very un-Slayerlike behavior. The stitch in her side has finally let up and the fog in her mind is starting to clear.

What the hell was I thinking just now? Aside from ‘oh my god, his eyes are the bluest blue eyes ever’ and ‘gah, his body is all tight and hard and...’ Oh damn. Not good. Evil. E-vil. I’m the Slayer, he’s a vampire. It’s not allowed. Well, except for with Angel. He’s all - oh my god, ANGEL! I was totally macking on this other vampire while I’m actually dating Angel. What the...? And why did it take me so long to remember him? Not good. Very not good. So far from good I can just barely see good on the horizon.

While Buffy’s thoughts run away with her, she fails to notice a dark figure move across her bedroom window. However, she does hear a skitter on the roof outside and a soft thump on the lawn. Darting to the window, she just catches a glimpse of platinum blond hair disappearing down the street.

“Ooh. He followed me! Damn it. Does he want me to slay him?” Buffy slides a stake into her waistband and makes for her window, sliding out across the roof and down the tree in a series of graceful maneuvers. She hits the ground running, following hot on Spike’s heels. She tries to ignore the way her body is flushed at the knowledge Spike was there, watching her. She wants to be mad and indignant and completely pissed off at him, but mostly she is feeling that way towards herself. Because no matter what she tells herself, she’s not sure she’s chasing him down in order to slay him. Her motives are anything but pure. And this fact only makes her run faster.

Following her Slayer senses without hesitation, Buffy enters the cemetery at full speed. Rounding a sharp corner near the Alpert tomb, she crashes directly into something hard and leather-clad, which makes a strange ‘oof’ sound as it hits the ground. With her on top.

“AGH!!!” Buffy feels the wind get knocked out of her in a rush. She gasps, looking down into the very same pair of blue eyes, and they instantly make her panties go wet. Again.

“Slayer, is this how you always hunt? A bit unorthodox, I must say.” Buffy struggles to get up, regaining her breath, but she can feel his hands on her waist, grip tight.

“Let go of me.”

“Make me.”

“I can.”

“Show me.”

“I will.”

She hesitates, looking down at Spike, eyes flashing in defiance. Her Slayer senses are going absolutely haywire in her mind, to the point she expects the word ‘Danger!’ to start flashing in front of her eyes as a siren wails. And yet...instead of punching him and flipping off him, she wriggles just a little bit. And the moan this elicits from the vampire trapped beneath her is all it takes to completely short circuit all her warning bells. They clang into silence with a whimper as his fingers bite into her hips.

“I’m going to kill you.” Buffy scowls at the blond vampire, who is grinning at her.

“I was thinking I might do the same to you, love.” She shudders. The way his deep voice penetrates her bones is incredibly unnerving. Buffy tries to think of what to do next, but every suggestion her mind throws out is more inappropriate than the last.

“I’m the Slayer.”

“I noticed. Stake and all.”

“Which is why I’m going to have to...slay you.”

“Trying to convince me or yourself, pet?”

Buffy’s mind lands on a fact.

“I have a boyfriend!”

“And I’ve got a girlfriend.”

As he speaks, Buffy feels Spike’s hands begin to roam, sliding lower to get a grip on her butt. Her eyes widen and her mouth opens to protest as he squeezes a bit tighter and all her angry words turn into a yelp of surprise. She wasn’t expecting to feel just how much he was enjoying himself. And if size is connected to level of excitement, Spike is very excited.

“So, it’s all bad. Let me go.”

“Say it like you mean it.”

“I do mean it. I most emphatically mean it.” Buffy notices, in a kind of floating outside her body kind of way, that with every word, she is actually moving her mouth closer to his. On the last word, she can almost feel his lips on hers.

With one last breath of hesitation, Buffy flicks her gaze from Spike’s eyes to his mouth and back again before letting her eyelids slide closed as her mouth descends to his. The contact is electric and he actually jerks under her as she presses everything she has into him. Mouth, breasts, hips. Her mouth pushes against his before he has time to think and her tongue slides between his lips, the incredible heat of her filling him from the inside out, her body burning into his.

“Oh, fuck.” Spike feels himself slip slightly out of control. The thoughts of snapping her pretty little neck dropping away in favor of the way her soft mouth feels on his lips, the way her pert little breasts are crushing against his thin t-shirt. The way her hips are slowly gyrating against his. And the little gasps she takes between kissing him senseless. He had every intention of killing this little Slayer tonight. Once he saw her at the Bronze, he thought he would indulge a little first, but now. Now, he’s not sure what he wants. It would seem a waste to drain the life from one so blazing with it. At least, not before he gets to experience a little more of that heat.

Spike rolls over quickly, taking the Slayer under him in a flash. The kiss breaks only momentarily before Spike takes charge. His mouth is brutal on hers, rough and demanding. But instead of yielding, Buffy rises to the occasion, biting him on the bottom lip. The taste of copper in his mouth makes Spike go instantly and painfully hard, no matter the source. And when she takes his lip into her mouth and sucks on it, he wonders if he’s going to come right in his pants.

“Christ, Slayer. What are you doing? Thought you were a good girl.” Spike grabs her two hands, which were exploring his chest and flings them above her head, pinning them there. He pulls back and looks down at her. Her cheeks are flushed, skin glowing in the moonlight, blonde hair splayed around her head in the lush grass of the cemetery. His inner poet attempts to rear his head with something about an angel in the silvery night, but he stifles the words before they can even fully form.

Buffy nibbles her bottom lip, content for the moment to let Spike think he has her in control. She knows she is playing with fire and yet, something in this night is making her act like another person. Like someone not sworn to kill the man, the demon who has her pinned to the ground.

“What made you think that, Spike?”

“Um, you’re the Slayer? Thought it was kind of required.”

Buffy shakes her head, though she knows she is a good girl. At least, usually. If he wasn’t looking at her like that, she would be right now. The complete insanity of putting herself in this position with someone so unabashedly evil has occurred to her.

“Planning to kill me after you have your way with me?” Spike tilts his head, tightening his grip on her wrists.

“If I told you, wouldn’t be much of a plan, would it?”

“Maybe I’ve got the same plan, eh?”

“Maybe.”

“Willing to take the chance?”

Spike feels Buffy’s body coil and tighten around his for only a split second before he finds himself flat on his back, his own hands pinned above his head.

“What can I say? I feel lucky.” She grins at him right before her lips crash back down on his. Spike has to admit he’s feeling pretty damn lucky himself.