DISCLAIMER: This is a Spike/Buffy sex romp. You've been warned. They don't belong to me, because if they did, they'd both be a lot less cranky. They belong to Joss The Mighty, and I'm just playing in his sandbox.

RATED: This is smut. What do you think it's rated?

A Deal With The Devil

by Lex

*****

//This has to work,// Buffy thought as she searched for a way into the building. //He has to be willing to help me.//

Part of her was amazed at how far she had sunk. //I'm actually about to ask SPIKE for help.// The other part, which was the part that was currently controlling things, was unfazed. She'd do anything to get Angel, *her* Angel back, and if this was the only way, well, then she'd do it. She didn't have to like it, though.

She was bargaining on the fact that Spike had to be as mad at Angelus as Buffy herself was. She knew that Angelus was trying to move on Drusilla and that just HAD to piss Spike off royally.

//Although why on earth he would want that crazy bitch is beyond me. Besides, he's mine. M-I-N-E. Or, Angel is. Whatever.//

She was so involved in her thoughts that she almost missed the unguarded window. Buffy looked up. The window was two stories off the ground, and would have to be climbed into. She sighed. //Damn it Angel, you had better appreciate what I'm going through for you here.//

Conveniently, the house was faced with stone, and she used that to haul herself upwards. After several moments of straining and panting, Buffy touched the ledge. Peeping over the sill, she looked around. No one. //Good. They must have left old Spikey at home while they hunted. Must not have wanted to haul the chair around.//

She shoved the window up, and carefully climbed in, landing with a soft thud on the hardwood floor of the hall. Glancing up, she noted the drawings hanging on the walls. //Nice. They must be moving up in the world. A big house, paintings, the whole nine yards.//

//Now where the hell is Spike? Probably the ground floor, 'cause I can't imagine him wanting to be carried up floors and floors by *Angelus*.// Moving quickly, Buffy made her way downstairs. She winced as the floorboards creaked underneath her heel. //SHIT!// As she descended, she began to hear a constant noise, a droning in the back of her mind. //What the hell --// Suddenly, the noise identified itself in her brain. It was water running. //In the house? But where? And what is that smell? Like earth newly turned over?//

Following the sound of the water, Buffy descended to yet another level, which was obviously the basement. The outer room contained a mess of things, but she could see light coming from an inner room, where the sound of the water also seemed to be emanating. Creeping to the door, she peered through the frame and lo! there was Spike, in his chair, seemingly contemplating a plant. //A plant?// She looked around, noticing the garden. //A garden *in* the house? Major weirdness.//

She was attempting to step silently into the room when Spike's voice rang out. "Could you have made *more* noise attempting to break into my house?"

Buffy froze. //Panic mode on!//

"I...uh...I...well," she stuttered, "Well, you see, Spike, I, um, I needed to talk to you."

"Talk to *me*? When you're near me, you tend to want to dispense with the talking and go right to the slaying."

She gathered up her nerve and blurted, "I need your help."

Spike looked her askance. "You need *my* help?"

"Yes."

"Wait, wait, let me absorb the moment. Buffy Summers, Slayer Extraordinaire, is asking for my help. Well, if that isn't the biggest pisser I've heard all day."

"If you're going to laugh at me, I can just leave." She whirled around in a huff, intending to flee the room.

"Hold on. I didn't give you permission to leave."

"But since you didn't give me permission to enter, I'll cut my losses and take off." She inched closer to the door.

"What do you need?" The question was spoken softly; Buffy was not even certain that she had heard it. She glanced over at him. He was sitting forward in his chair, hands clasped in front of him.

"I need you to help me get Angel back." There. It was said. Basic, blunt statement.

Spike snickered. "Oh, so you want me to help you turn my sire back into the whimpering pet of the Slayer? Not bloody likely, love."

"Now that's odd, Spike. I would have imagined that you would be kind of tired of seeing Angel -- Angelus paw Drusilla. But maybe I'm wrong. Maybe the sight of your girlfriend in the arms of another man *doesn't* irk the shit out of you. Maybe I'm the freak because I want to rip her hair out for daring to touch my man. Even though he's not the whole man, he's still mine, and I'm getting really riled. But maybe it's just me. You obviously don't care. But I guess it's really none of my business."

Spike stared at her, anger lighting his gaze. "What do I get out of it?"

Buffy's jaw dropped. //He's going for it? Ohmigod.// "Well, you get rid of Angel, and you get Dru back. Isn't that what you want?"

"Oh yes, pet, but I want so much more." His eyes pinned her to the ground. Suddenly, she felt all icky, like when the guys at school would gang up to follow her and try to grab her. Now self-conscious, she tugged at the hem of her skirt, wishing vainly that the skirt was longer, and had a lower Lycra content.

"Wha...what else would you like," she squeaked. Momentarily disgusted by the sound of her timidity, she squared her shoulder and stepped forward. "If you promise to take Drusilla and leave Sunnydale, never to return, you have my word that I will not come after you. As long as neither of you harms me or mine, you will be safe."

He chuckled. "Ah, so noble. Bargaining with the devil for Angel's soul. I imagine he'd be quite touched."

She shrugged. "Well?"

Spike nodded. "On one more condition."

Buffy froze in place. "What would that condition be? I mean, do you need help or something, being as...as, well you know. You're not as mobile as before."

He snickered, amused. "You see, Buffy, that is not as much a problem as you think." With that, he rose from the chair, kicking it away from him.

Shocked, Buffy could only stare. And panic. //Shit! I *knew* this was a trap.//

Spike stalked over to where she stood. Grasping her arms, he said, "You, love. The other condition is you." The words broke through Buffy's shock. She ripped her arms from his grasp.

"Have you totally lost your mind?"

He was amused. "Come now, pet, I cannot imagine that Angel left you a virgin."

She glared at him. "That is none of your business."

"Oh, I very much think it is my business. Either you show me exactly what Angel taught you, or you never get him back. It's your call, princess."

//This is it. Either I...you know...or Angel stays Angelus forever.// When she put it like that, there was no choice. "I'll do it."

"Well then, Ms. Summers, show me what my sire taught you." He was standing in the middle of the garden, arms spread wide. Nervously, she walked up to him, reaching out a tentative hand to touch his chest. //Don't think about it being him. You'll never be able to go through with it.// Oddly, his body temperature, or lack thereof, reminded her of Angel and comforted her in a strange way. She reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head, allowing her access to his chest. //He's really not that bad...but it's _Spike_. Ugh.//

Kissing his throat, she traced a shaking hand down his chest, feeling the muscles delineated under his skin. She began to warm to her task, kissing and licking the smooth skin she found, working her way down his chest. Buffy was surprised when Spike growled and wrapped his hands on top of her head. She expected him to force her down, but he applied no pressure, he just held on to her. Grasping the front of his pants, she unbuckled his belt, feeling his hardness fighting against the confines of his jeans. She peeled the denim away from him only to discover he definitely did not believe in undergarments. //Whoa boy.//

His cock sprang loose into her waiting hands. At the first contact of her hands on his flesh, Spike moaned, a deep, needy sound. Buffy was amazed, apalled and aroused all at the same time. //What is WRONG with me? I can't be getting wet, I just can't.//

Buffy raised surprisingly timid eyes up to Spike. "Do you want me -- well, do you want me to --" She broke off, unable to complete, the sentence, much less the thought.

He grinned. "Love, you do whatever comes naturally to you."

//Staking your grinning ass with a fence post would come naturally, you bastard.//

Buffy closed her eyes, attempting to focus on the task at hand. She held his cock in her hand, rubbing the skin roughly while she thought of a plan. Ducking her head down, she licked the tip quickly, and jerked back, scraping her tongue against her teeth, attempting to remove the taste from her mouth. //I could kill him right now. Just rip his dick off, shove it down his throat, and stake him. I'd be done with him. But then there would be no hope for Angel. This is for Angel. Angelangelangelangel.// Her heart cried out. And then she cried out as Spike yanked her back by her hair.

"Oh, no, Slayer. None of what you're thinking. You see, I'm attached, in more ways than one, to my cock, and I'd be sorely put out should you try to rip it off of me. How about we do this the old fashioned way."

Buffy looked up at him. "What?"

He grinned at her, eyebrow raised. "Like this, pet." With that, he lifted her up by her shoulders, slamming her against the rock wall. Instinctively, Buffy's legs spread and wrapped themselves around Spike's waist. "See? I knew you could do it."

Closing her eyes, Buffy hung there, waiting for him to finish it, for him to hurt her, for him to thrust into her, making her degradation complete. But he surprised her by gripping the back of her neck, tilting her head up to meet his mouth. Against her lips he whispered, "Come now, love, won't you enjoy this a little? Not even a teeny, tiny bit? I imagine it has been a while for you, now that Angelus is back playing for the other team..."

Her eyes snapped open, spitting fury and defiance. Spike grinned. "Now *that's* the Slayer I want to see, not the bloody throw herself to the lions bitch that was here before."

"Get it over with, Spike. I have places to be, demons to dust."

Spike crushed her harder into the wall. "You want it like this, pet, hard and fast against a wall? You don't *want* to feel anything, is that it? If you feel something, you're not quite the little innocent princess that everyone thinks, is that right?"

She pushed her pelvis into him, grinding herself against him in an attempt to force his hand. "No, I'm just tired of all this talking. I'd kind of like to see some action."

//WHAT am I saying? Have I completely lost what's left of my mind?//

His eyes darkened. "Very well, princess. Never let it be said I denied a beautiful woman my cock." He pushed the tiny skirt out of his way, and ripped the delicate panties off, leaving her completely bare for his touch.

Buffy squealed as his fingers found her, plumbing the depths of her heat. As his fingers encountered her moisture, he looked her in the eyes. "Not so uninterested as you would have me believe, eh Slayer?"

Her face suffused with heat, the shame flooding her. She couldn't explain it, not even to herself, but for some reason, she wanted this man...this demon. She wanted him plunging inside of her, making her forget everything.

For whatever reason, Spike seemed to understand this. He met her lips, kissing her with surprising gentleness. His lips coaxed hers to play, his tongue tracing the outline of her mouth, his teeth nibbling on her bottom lip.

As she moaned, he took advantage of her opened mouth and slipped his tongue inside to play with hers. Buffy whimpered, deep in her throat, wiggling against him. She could feel him, hard, resting near her ass.

To placate her, his fingers wound their way down her, brushing against her cloth covered breasts, taking time to pinch the nipples slightly, causing her breath to catch in the back of her throat. Her passion drugged eyes slid open. "Spiiiiiike," she breathed, unable to believe she needed him this badly, "Please..."

"Soon, love, soon." He sounded surprisingly out of breath for a man -- a creature that had no need to breathe.

His questing fingers found their way further south, finally touching the soaked nest of hair hiding her femininity. Buffy began to pant as he pushed first two, then three fingers inside of her, stretching her around him. Her clit stood out from its concealing folds, hard, begging to be touched. He obliged her, touching it swiftly, unwilling to allow her to explode into orgasm just yet. The small motion infuriated her. She gripped his back, ripping her nails over his skin, drawing blood. At the scent of his own blood, Spike went a little wild. He shifted her in his embrace, postioning her at just the right angle for his cock to slide into her.

As he entered her, he heard her breathless gasp, her tiny whimper as her body stretched around him. She pulled his head back, meeting his gaze, her eyes wild with need. Spike knew her need, as the same burning desire stretched him on an unyielding rack. Answering her unasked plea, he slammed into her, thrusting as deeply as he could go. Buffy arched her head back, forcing the rest of her body more flush against him. He gripped her ass, using it to push her further down on his cock.

"Nownownownownow...," she moaned, oblivious to everything but the feeling of of Spike impaling her over and over. She was so caught up in the moment, in the pure undiluted lust that ran through her veins, she failed to notice Spike's face change, the vampire evident in the ridges framing his brow. With a snarl, he ducked his head down, going right for her neck. She realized what he was about to do when he broke through her skin, right to her vein, gorging himself on the thick red fluid that oozed out. She arched, the pain momentarily breaking through her haze of lust. But then the pleasure redoubled as the sheer eroticism of the moment hit her. She felt her own pleasure increase as Spike drank from her. His pleasure was evident from the rapidity of his thrusts rocking her body, and from the purring growls emanating from his throat.

Buffy tried to work up concern for her own life, but everything was sliding away from her in the grip of the ecstasy tearing through her body. Her entire body convulsed as the orgasm hit, ripping her away from everything safe. She screamed, a long endless sound. His name.

At the sound of his name on her lips, screaming out her pleasure, Spike lost the last grip on his control. He braced himself for one last powerful lunge, and then he let go, his body thrown into a release so potent that he actually *ached* from the strength of it.

The next thing he knew, he was kissing Buffy's neck instead of ripping her throat apart. He was caressing her skin instead of tearing it. Her eyes were closed; an absurdly pleased smile crossed her face. And from somewhere deep inside of him, Spike felt laughter, such as he hadn't felt in years, bubbling up. The laughs tore through him, shaking him, causing him to lean into the wall for support. Buffy's eyes sprang open. "Whhhaaat?" she questioned wearily.

"Oh, nothing, love."

Buffy tightened her hold on his neck. "What?" she repeated, slightly more menacing.

"Well, I just can't get over the fact that a *Slayer* of all the bloody things in the world, is the best lay I've had in centuries."

Buffy met Spike's amused gaze. She tried to smile, but her lips twitched, heralding the impending laughter. Her shoulders hunched as the laughter erupted from her throat, rocking the both of them from their already precarious position against the wall.

"Whoa...." Spike cried out as Buffy's sudden movement sent him flying off balance.

When the dust settled, Buffy was leaning on Spike's chest, which was positioned semi-comfortably on the floor. She propped her head against her hand. "Did we just do what I think we just did?"

Spike closed his eyes. "You mean, did I just fuck the *Slayer*, enemy to my kind, against the wall in my indoor garden?"

"Yep."

"I'd have to say yes to that. Bloody hell."

Buffy reached a hand up to trace the smile on his lips. "So does this mean you'll help me?"

"Love, after this, I just may be your slave for life."

Then it was Buffy's turn to arch an eyebrow. "*May*? I'd say I earned a 'definite' with that performance."

Spike lifted his head up slightly. "I'd have to agree with you. And once again, I am forced to admit to my sire's extraordinary ability to pick the best women ever."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Don't tell me you're going to get all graspy and whiny now, searching for a compliment?"

"No, I'm just going to leave and slay some vampires. Vampires that are not you, of course."

"Oh, of course. But are you sure you couldn't take a small break from slaying tonight?"

"Are you going beyond the terms of our original agreement?"

"Yes, princess, I believe I am."

"Oh. All right. But this time, you get to have your back to the rocks."

THE END

Maybe. Okay, probably not. *eg*

Praise, flames, and gorgeous vampires welcomed at lex@bitchenvy.com