*****

Spike curled on the floor in a fetal position, cradling his head in his hands. "Fuckin' hangover." He struggled to sit up, fighting the dizziness and nausea that threatened to overtake him. As his eyes slowly focused, he took in his surroundings. "What the hell?" He seemed to be in some sort of dimly lit room, one with absolutely no furnishings of any kind, not even the hard little cot and small commode one would find in a jail cell. The room was immaculate, the walls stark, hospital white, except for the wall that was made of glass...or plastic, it was difficult to tell.

Immediately Spike was on the alert, straining to absorb all the details of the room. Obviously, it room wasn't meant to be a pleasurable place to stay. He was aware of the shadowy presence of a person; the smell told him it was a human, probably a fairly young man. Spike's mouth watered as he tried to remember the last time he ate. The last thing he remembered was returning from LA, ready to stir up some trouble for the Slayer and her little band of hangers-on. This did not appear to be trouble of the Buffy variety.

He thought he heard the sound of footsteps, far away, but coming closer. As he listened intently, he became more certain. The noise was louder as it came right up to his cell, hesitated, and went just beyond the door, where it stopped. He caught the vague outline of a tall, well-built man with a strong looking jaw and light hair. Someone began speaking outside and he heard fragments of the whispered conversation.

First one male voice, "...Walsh wants me to take hostile 16..."

Then a deeper voice asking something, "...this time of night?"

"Yes, more observation...nocturnal response tests..."

Another question from the deep voice, unintelligible, then the first man's response, "...yeah, the only two tonight, should be a quiet one for you."

Spike strained his eyes to see outside the door but the dimness of the hallway prevented him from seeing anything entirely. There was movement, and some shadowy forms. Again Spike saw the tall man, this time accompanied by a figure that didn't look human or vampire. There was obviously something demonish about the head, but other than the horns, Spike couldn't identify anything about it clearly. The tall man appeared to be leading the demon away, pointing something at him, most likely a large gun from the shape of it. "Oh Christ," Spike muttered under his breath.

As Spike raised himself painfully off of the floor, he caught the attention of the human outside. The guard stepped into view. He was a black man, not much taller than Spike, maybe 5'9'', with a shaved head and a striking face. His mouth was wide and full, his jaw strong, and his coffee-colored eyes were full of quiet intensity. He was dressed in full military garb, but not the spit and polish brass of an officer; this was instead the dress of an active soldier. The guard was not only dressed for war, he was holding a large weapon, which appeared to be some kind of stun gun or laser, and his every rigid muscle showed that he was prepared to fight, even to kill. Something about the guard seemed vaguely familiar, but Spike couldn't figure out exactly what it was. Maybe it was just his hunger, playing tricks with his mind.

"Where the hell am I?" he hissed. There was no response, but he noticed the guard examining him thoughtfully. Spike got a good look at the guard, as his eyes grew accustomed to the dim light. The guard stood in basic military stance, legs a shoulder's width apart, one arm supporting the weapon. He was clearly at his physical peak, with heavily muscled arms and chest, and looked like he would put up more struggle than the average human. Spiked weighed his options. Without the weapon, and if he didn't have a dull headache that wouldn't seem to go away, he would be able to take him. As it was, the odds seemed too heavily stacked in the human's favor. Maybe, he could at least find out what was happening to him, why he was here.

Where was he? Why was he trapped in this cell, guarded by some type of soldier, ravenously hungry and in pain?

"I said, Where am I? Answer me, Nancy-boy, or I'll rip your head off."

The guard entered the containment cell in one swift, angry move. "Don't call me that" he growled, inches away from Spike's face.

"Oh? We don't like that, do we Nancy?" Spike replied. This pretty young man was obviously hiding something.

"That's enough!" the soldier drew the weapon and pointed it at Spike. Then, for some reason, he slowly lowered the taser.

"What's the matter? Haven't any balls?" Spike taunted. The suddenness and viciousness of the blow took Spike a little by surprise. His headache became a whirl of dizzying stars for a few moments, but he recovered quickly. He was ready for a fight, hopefully even a kill, the thought of hot blood making the ridges of his brow shift into prominence. Spike lunged at the soldier with blood on his mind. He managed to land a solid blow across the guard's mouth before doubling onto the floor in agony. The dull throbbing had somehow intensified in his head until it felt as though someone had actually gone into his brain with an icepick. He moaned aloud, and held completely still, hoping only that the pain would subside.

When it had, he looked up, only to see the guard in front of him, a smirk playing at the corners of his bleeding mouth. "What the bloody hell are you looking at?" challenged Spike.

"You can't hurt me. We've changed you." was the guard's somewhat cryptic answer.

"You don't talk much, do you?" asked Spike, his anger and annoyance rising up again as the pain receded. He could smell the blood on the soldier, and it was distracting. The urge to sink his fangs deep into the guard's throat was almost overpowering. The soldier's weapon was the only thing preventing him.

"Why don't you get rid of the stun gun, pouf, and fight like a man?"

The guard's smirk widened into a smile, as if to say, "I'm not that stupid." There was an edge of nervousness in his voice as he replied, "I'll keep the gun, thanks."

Spike couldn't stop thinking about the smell of the blood on the guard's lips. His hunger was maddening, he could almost hear the pulse of blood in the man's throat, feel the sensation of the warmth flooding his mouth in those first few moments when he drank. He imagined scent in the guard's throat, the salty smell of the guard's sweat mingling with the spicy remnants of his shaving cream. The idea of burying his face in the soldier's neck made him moan softly with hunger. And something else. There was a feeling playing around the borders of his hunger, not yet competing with the need and intensity of the desire for blood, but still tangible. Lust. As he tried to decide whether the struggle and possible danger would be worth it, Spike pondered the guard's earlier statement.

"What did you mean, I can't hurt you? I'm a fucking vampire."

"They did some work on you. Our scientists, I mean. And you can't hurt anyone."

"Oh. Yeah. I'm supposed to believe your scientists are going to keep me from hurting you. I could kill you right now." The guard shrugged, then put down the taser.

"Try me." He stood with his feet planted hard into the tile floor. The challenge on his face was unmistakable, and Spike thought he saw more than a little amusement in the glance the soldier gave him. Spike rose from the floor and moved swiftly beside the soldier, hovering next to the rich, dark skin that shone as if it had been polished. He inhaled deeply. He had been almost right about the human's scent: sweat, fear, shaving cream, the maddening blood...and sex? He studied the human's face searchingly for a moment and noticed that the guard did not shrink away in fear as most humans did. Rather, he seemed to be almost entranced by Spike's gaze, meeting his eyes unflinchingly.

As Spike thought about the hot blood spilling into his mouth his demon side emerged again. The guard made an almost silent gasp when he saw Spike's face so close to his own, yet he held still, forcing himself to be a man, a soldier. Spike opened his mouth to take the human (so quietly waiting) and the blinding, stabbing pain in his head washed over him again in a nauseating wave. He howled like an animal and dropped to the floor.

"Fuck! Fuckin' hell! What did you do to me?!"

"It wasn't me." The soldier said so quietly that Spike had to strain to hear. As Spike looked up at him, he saw pity in the man's face. The kind of look one gave to a caged and frightened animal. The guard seemed sure now of having the upper hand. He commanded, "Change your face back."

"I can't," Spike moaned, "the smell of your blood..."

The soldier seemed amazed. He reached up to touch his split lip gently with his fingertips. He pulled his fingers away from his mouth and looked at the tiny red droplets he saw there. The vampire was a good five or six feet away. "You can smell that?" he asked. Spike nodded miserably. "Does it...um, are you...hungry?" the guard asked. The words hung thick and heavy in the air around them.

And then the human did something surprising. Slowly, he extended his hand with its reddened fingertips towards Spike. "You can..." he stammered slightly, " you can...taste... if you want to."

Spike moved back toward the guard, slowly, not quite trusting the human. He grasped the broad, squared hand that was being offered to him in both of his hands. He looked long and hard into the soldier's eyes, seeking understanding. He saw no malice in the soldier's face, and strangely enough, no fear. Unable to stop himself, he bent his head, eyes closing in wordless fulfillment as he licked the fingertips clean, one at a time. His tongue swirled around the human's fingers, lapping greedily to get every trace of the blood from them. Spike sucked the guard's fingers into his mouth, mindful only of his hunger, the taste of human blood and sweat spreading like a rich wine through his mouth.

Spike needed more. He drew back from the human, who was trembling, though fighting to keep still. Spike loved the fear, the struggle, as his victims fought for their lives, the demon part of him thirsted and needed the kill as much as the nourishment. But the guard was not fighting or struggling, which made it less interesting. Perhaps when he truly began to drink...Spike looked up at the soldier's face, and he knew in an instant why the young man shook. The soldier was staring at Spike with rapt attention. Spike suddenly became aware of how very close the human had moved towards him.

He had encountered this before. Sometimes the lust for blood mingled in his mind with the more ordinary sort of desire, and it was not totally unknown to him that the human sometimes made the same mistake. Sometimes for the sake of variety, Spike would simply take the victim's body until he or she was spent, and then would be able to feed from them and kill them easily. He enjoyed the terrified shock on their faces when they realized that their bodies alone had not satisfied him. Once in a great while, he might feed from a woman without killing her, if she reminded him of Dru. Spike didn't like this line of thought, which generally led him into self-pity and heavy drink.

The guard was still standing there, eyes slightly glazed, full mouth half-open. The blood on his split bottom lip was darkening as it thickened. Spike pounced. He swept that whole soft mouth with his own, sucking at the lips which began to bleed anew. The blood was not flowing very fast, but it was enough to torment him further. He thrust his tongue into the soldier's mouth, and the young man responded eagerly, pressing the warm length of his body against Spike's. Once again, Spike became aware of the scent of sex coming in waves from the young man's body. Spike groaned. Oh, yes. There was nothing that could compare with the warmth of a human. Their skin was so hot to the touch and so very alive with all that blood pulsing through them. Even when he had just fed, Spike was not so warm. He suddenly wanted to feel the heat from this man all over his skin, wanted it more than he wanted to kill him, more even, than he wanted to feed. He pressed his fangs against the guard's lower lip as he licked the wound hard with his tongue.

The guard's awareness of Spike's fangs must have broken through the intensity of the kiss. Spike felt the human in his arms go rigid, and struggle to turn his head. //Yes,// he thought, //I'm going to drain you, but first...// He allowed the soldier to turn his head, and in so doing, expose his sleek warm neck. Spike bowed his head to the throat, and the terrified soldier froze. But Spike only inhaled the human's scent, and planted a small kiss against his firm jaw. He began to nuzzle the guard's throat, but realized that the human was still too petrified to move, and the smell of his desire was becoming overwhelmed by the rising tide of fear. He pulled his mouth away, and instead ran his hands down the length of the soldier's back, stroking gently. He continued stroking the soldier's warmth with his cool, long hands. Spike felt the human relax a little.

He moved his hands deftly over the curving muscles in the soldier's back, feeling the heat as it warmed his palms. He stroked under the shirt, moving his hands around to touch the man's chest and hard abdomen. He sighed. Usually he stayed away from such strong humans, preferring not to work so hard for his meals. He made small circles with the flat of his palms against the guard's chest, and felt the nipples tightening under his hands. Spike trailed his fingertips lazily across them, and felt the peaks harden more. With one hand he pinched a nipple, while he slowly lowered his mouth to the other. He felt the soldier jump a little as the coolness of the vampire's mouth startled him.

The soldier hadn't said a word since offering his bloodied fingers for Spike to taste. Spike felt a need to draw a moan from the stoic human's tender throat. He bit at the man's nipple--gently enough but with the weight of his desire driving him. The guard's back arched and a slight noise, like a sigh, escaped his mouth. //Mmm,// Spike thought, //I'm getting closer. He'll be begging soon enough.// He raised his mouth up to the soldier's ear and whispered, "Do you want it?"

The human nodded wordlessly and reached his hand up to Spike's mouth to trace his lips. Spike was careful not to open his mouth too much and reveal the fangs, which didn't always recede when the "game face" did. The guard stroked Spike's face as if he was blind, feeling every contour. He stared into Spike's eyes and finally whispered, "Oh God, I want you." The heat of the mortal's body pressing close to him was driving Spike crazy. The warm wetness of his breath in Spike's ear almost made Spike miss breathing.

He wanted to take him, hard and fast, all heat and violence, on the floor of the containment cell. Yet something stopped him. He tried to reassure himself with, //Well, it will just about fuckin' kill me if I hurt him anyway.// And yet he knew that it was more than that which was keeping him from breaking the young man. It was that connection, that fundamentally human flaw: emotion. The way this human stared at him, worshipping. So entranced by Spike's power and beauty that he was clearly ignoring his natural fear, and his training. He would love to turn this boy and see the gorgeous vampire he would become. He imagined the way they would stalk through Sunnydale together, wreaking bloody havoc wherever they went. The tension between them would be palpable, and the two of them dressed in tight leather would draw stares from all the pretty young things. But this one would have eyes for no one else. He would adore Spike as a sire and a lover; he would challenge him with his arrogance and his masculinity.

On the rare occasions Spike felt this way, he usually ripped the person's throat out, and then settled into a morose, Angel-like brooding, drinking for days on end. Once or twice, the connection had caused him to sire a vampire...always a mistake, as very few other vampires retained the capacity for love that he had. Only Dru was able to love like him, and even that had ended.

//Fuck it!// he raged to himself, //I've got this pretty, willing human boy practically begging me to have him, and I'm thinking of Dru.// He shook his head hard, as if trying to literally shake the thoughts out of his mind, and dove into the guard's lovely mouth again, tasting the heady mix of desire and blood. He felt the hard evidence of the soldier's desire pressing into his thigh and he thrust himself against it. He broke the kiss to say, "I want you" and the guard's answering moan made him grin to himself in triumph. He slid the khaki tee shirt over the soldier's head, revealing his gorgeous chest with its ripe nipples. He stroked the smooth skin, still marveling at the heat he found there, working his hands slowly down until he reached the waistband of the camouflage pants. The human was shaking with desire and his hard cock was visibly straining against the fabric. The guard had to lean on him slightly as he worked his pants down his large muscular thighs.

Spike gently stroked his cool hand up along the inside of the guard's thigh, and sighed softly in appreciation as the human's prick jumped inside his boxers. He imagined that first tiny drop of pre-come glistening on the end of the man's cock, and the way it would taste when he finally closed his mouth around it. He slid his hands around to cup the soldier's ass, and back again, to ease down the underwear. He felt a small lump of need well up in his throat and he had to swallow it back, hard, when he finally looked up at the man. He was smooth all over, except the small thatch of curls at the base of his cock, and his skin was glowing mahogany over each and every luscious contour. His cock stood away from his body, wet with desire. Spike's own prick throbbed in response to the sight of him.

Spike wanted to tease the man, torture him with need so intense he'd be gasping and begging for fulfillment, but he didn't know if he'd be able to hold himself back that long. He rubbed his cheek gently against the guard's thighs, enjoying the heat he found there. Oh, humans were so good, he'd nearly forgotten. It had been a while since he'd wanted anyone but Dru. He nuzzled the soft spot he found between the man's hip and thigh, the curve of flesh that led a path to his cock, taking in the thick scent he found there. Spike brushed his mouth gently across the base of the base of the man's prick, and then he could stand it no longer. He swept up the whole length of his cock with his tongue, and lapped at the head. The human tasted just as Spike had imagined, the raw young taste of salt, sweat and need that men this age had. Spike's cock was beginning to feel almost painfully hard inside his leather jeans. The guard's hips jerked up immediately, thrusting towards Spike's waiting mouth. //So eager, my love,// he thought.

He took the soldier's cock into his mouth, struggling not to grin as the soldier began pumping his mouth with what was obviously long-repressed desire. He allowed the man into his mouth, but held him off from entering his throat by wrapping one long pale hand around the base of his cock. "Please...please.." the man moaned from somewhere up above. Spike pulled away, teasing, but then bent in to caress his balls. He licked them, and took them gently into his mouth. When he sucked softly, the guard began to moan again, and he felt broad hands begin stroking through his hair. Once again, he moved back up to the guard's cock, and this time, he began to suck him hard and fast. He heard the soft, wet sounds of his sucking and the quiet groaning noises made by the guard in the stillness of the room. The hands in his hair tightened, and the groans from above suddenly ceased. Spike felt the soldier holding his breath and tensing up for his release. He backed off again, enjoying the boy's groan of disappointment. "No," he murmured, "too soon."

He stroked the man's glorious skin again, feeling the incredible softness of his hips and thighs. Then, still on his knees, he slid around behind the guard and placed his arm around his waist to steady him. Then he drew his fingers slowly across the human's beautiful ass, smiling to himself in delicious anticipation of being inside someone again. It had been a long time.

Spike parted the cheeks of the soldier's ass, and slid his tongue up between them. He heard the soldier, sounding far away, gasp loudly. He worked his mouth up until he found the small puckered opening he was searching for, and then he flicked his tongue against it. He could feel the strain of the man's muscles as he struggled to remain standing. Spike loved the heady sense of power it gave him to have a man weak with desire under his touch. He pushed his tongue hard until the tip of it disappeared inside the human's body, and he heard the man begging him, "Oh...god....yeah. Please." //Hmmm// thought Spike, //Please what?// He thrust his tongue deeper. //This?//

The guard was shaking all over. Spike was beginning to lose it. His cock was aching now, and he longed to press all of his naked skin against this warm, wet human. The only problem was his skin wasn't naked. He pulled back from the human again, smiling broadly when the man groaned pathetically. He stripped his shirt off in one quick motion, tossing it over his head. The pants were a bit more difficult, he had to struggle for a moment to pull of his boots, and then peel the tight jeans down.

Spike stepped in front of the human again, allowing him to see his body, to meet his eyes again. The guard's eyes were closed, but when Spike reached over to take his hand, he opened them. He ran a hand down Spike's smooth, pale chest, and without pausing, grasped Spike's hard cock in his hand. Spike made a small growl of desire as he felt the heat of the human's skin. It seemed right somehow that skin so lustrous should be so warm. "I want you. Now." He told the guard. "Yes," the man replied. It was a mere formality; they both knew it could wait no longer.

Again, Spike moved behind the mortal. His mouth was watering and he used this saliva to quickly slick his hard cock. He placed a hand on the human's shoulder and pushed, and the man sank slowly to his knees with Spike just moments behind. He flung his arm across the man's chest, holding him and supporting his weight at the same time. The other hand slipped down to guide his cool, slick cock into the waiting human. He pushed, slowly at first, as the felt the soldier's asshole tighten against him. The he nudged until the pale head of his cock was wedged inside the man's ass and he heard him draw a deep, shaky breath. Spike couldn't wait any longer. He pushed inside, hard now, enveloped with the heat, the burning heat of the mortal beneath him. "Ohhh," he moaned, low in his throat.

He wanted to do it slow, make it last, but he couldn't make himself. The man was tight around him, and wet with pre-come and spit, and Spike bucked against him, hard. "Oh God," the soldier moaned beneath him. Colored lights were exploding beneath Spike's eyelids and he was growling with the intensity of his need. He reached in front of the guard to encircle his sticky cock, rock hard now and hot as sunlight. He stroked the young man's cock, keeping rhythm with his thrusting inside his body. The guard arched and bucked beneath him, panting. Then, he turned his head around as far as he could, and looked at Spike.

"Drink" he gasped out, between thrusts. "Taste me."

Spike looked at him in wordless amazement. How could this human know exactly what he wanted? Did he even know what he was offering? Spike was overcome with that same sweeping emotion, which had flickered around his mind earlier, and he fiercely wanted the man, every part of him, his body, his blood, his life. He hesitated for only a moment, then seeing that the mortal had arched his head up and to one side, offering his throat, he lowered his head to drink. His face had changed once again to that ridged vampire "game face" and he sunk his long fangs into the trembling, pulsing flesh beneath his mouth. Hot metallic blood surged into his mouth, and he drank deep. The human's hips pumped still against his hand, and Spike continued stroking his cock. Spike was unable to move and feed at the same time, but the sensation of the taste of the man's blood combined with the fire and tightness that surrounded his cock was almost enough to drive him over the edge.

The soldier seemed oblivious to the pain, and Spike was well aware that he could be drained to death without protesting. He held himself in check however, and as he felt the human's body tensing again beneath him, he pulled away from his throat and began thrusting into him again with renewed energy. The mortal let out a long, low, "ohhh" and came, in hot jets into Spike's hand. He fell forward then, onto his hands, and Spike grabbed his hips and pulled him back onto his cock. The sensation was blinding, all red and heat and bursts of light, building and building inside him. The human felt white hot around him, and with the taste of the man's blood still fresh in his mouth, Spike strained toward his release. His cock pulsed, once, twice, his rhythm all gone and simple mindless thrusting as he came all cool and slick inside the guard. "Oh, yeah. Oh fuck...yeah," he growled, harsh and animal as he slumped over the man's sweat-slicked back.

He rested his cool cheek against the still heated muscles in the guard's shoulders. "So lovely, pet." He felt like stroking the human, saying the soft warm sweet words of a lover. He thought once again about turning him, imagining making love to this young man every night. Maybe this time the emotion would stay, even after the soul was gone. "You're so lovely." he whispered. He felt the human beneath him exhale slowly. And then tense, inexplicably.

Spike felt the muscles beneath his face tighten, and listened to the sigh, and all at once, he knew. He felt the presence of another person so strongly that he could almost see the shadowy outline of his form through his closed eyes. He smelled the sharp scent of guilt, the tang of it filling his nostrils. He growled in disgust, anger flowing through him, "Little fucking prick!" he pulled from the human beneath him and shoved him away. He didn't want to be near him, didn't want to look at his huddled form on the floor.

How dare he! Spike was thinking of making love to this boy, and he was thinking of someone else. It was as if he had offered the human the gift he had been imagining, and the boy had spit in his face. Spike wanted to rip the human's throat open, bathe in his blood, but his head throbbed at the very thought of it. Retreating across the cell, Spike looked at the guard, and tried to think about how best to hurt him without hurting himself. He couldn't kill him if even thinking about it made his head ache.

Maybe there was another way. If the deceitful little bastard was going to be thinking of someone else, then he had someone to hide this from. Spike wished he could find the other man and kill him messily in front of his lover. Or maybe they weren't lovers; maybe the guard just wanted him, but couldn't have him.

//Oh, this could be * good *// Spike's mouth curled up in a snarl. "Well, pet, I hope for your sake no one finds out about this."

The soldier's head whirled around quickly. He looked up at Spike and his mouth opened into a tiny 'o' of surprise.

"There isn't anyone that shouldn't see those marks, is there?"

The guard's hand flew to his still bleeding throat, and comprehension dawned. He looked up at Spike, eyes widening in horror, then sank slowly to the floor burying his face in his arms.

Spike looked down at him, laughing. He thought about the man that the guard wanted instead of him. //I wonder if I can find out who he is...//

*end*