Someone once told me that caffeine isn't good for an individual, especially

Caffeinated Challenge

Necrophilia

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Someone once told me that caffeine isn't good for an individual, especially consumed in copious quantities. Unfortunately they also forgot to mention that diluting the caffeine with alcohol is also bad, as you will see...

"Moral dilemma number one. It is a beautiful spring day - or night in my case - you are walking down a road and you spot a sparrow lying in the dirt, one of its tiny wings is broken. You have...a hammer." Spike grinned, crossed his ankles and shifted slightly on Giles couch, which he was happily sprawled across. "Come on people, honesty time."

"I hardly think you are the person to be asking about ‘moral dilemma's’, Spike," said Giles, not even bothering to look up from the book he was studying.

Spike pouted, let out a frustrated sigh and continued to stare at the ceiling. Thursday night and he was bored, thus the moral dilemmas - trying to make the Watcher and Xander squirm. It wasn't working, time to up the antics.

"Moral dilemma number two. You are an upwardly mobile young merchant banker, your girlfriend has just fallen pregnant, and you think a child at this point in time could be detrimental to your career. You have ...a coat hanger," Spike smirked as he heard a book slam shut.

"That's enough, Spike," Giles spat, glaring at the vampire.

"Coat hanger? I don't get..." Xander paused as his mind registered the implications of the statement and his face screwed up in a look of disgust. "Ewwwww, that's revolting! How can you say such things?"

"Hey, mate, I'm just putting forward the moral dilemmas - it's your perverted mind that's working overtime, rather slowly at that, on the possibilities."

"It's just so...well...just...ew," said Xander, his eyebrows reflecting his confusion and lack of vocabulary to say how disgusting he found the whole idea. Spike just grinned.

"Oh for goodness sake's just ignore him Xander," Giles stated, irritating Spike to no end.

"Moral dilemma number three. You have been working for months in isolation on an artic base. One day, as you are wandering along the polar ice caps, you spot a baby seal. Its soft white fur gleaming in the artic sun, large brown eyes capture your gaze, and it starts to move its tiny warm body toward you."

"What sort of moral dilemma involves a baby seal? I mean they're cute and fluffy - no dilemmas there," Xander stated and Giles shot him a withering stare before shaking his head and lowering his gaze back to the book. Xander twisted in his chair to look at Spike. "So what is the dilemma? What do we 'have' this time?"

"You have," Spike paused, licking his lips in anticipation. "An erection."

"That's enough," bellowed Giles, he had been expecting as much from the perverted vampire and silently cursed Xander's stupidity to fall into the trap. He heard Spike chuckle from the couch and closed his eyes, grinding his teeth together in sheer frustration. "Go, both of you just get out!"

"Out?" Xander questioned.

Spike sat up and rubbed his hands together. Freedom! Tonight was looking good for a spot of mindless violence, all he had to do was find some nasties he could happily pulverise. Not too hard to do considering they were on top of a Hellmouth.

"Yes. Go...take him with you," Giles gestured to the smirking vampire. "Find the girls...whatever, just get out of my sight."

"Bronze...girls night..." Xander began to verbalise what Anya and Willow had told him earlier, he frowned slightly. "Maybe that isn't such a good idea."

"Xander, 'girls nights' are spent wishing they had men," Giles was fast losing patience, he wanted one night alone to regain some of his sanity and that was looking unlikely if he couldn’t get rid of both Xander and Spike. "You will be doing them a favour - at this point in time they are probably intoxicated and open to all sort of lascivious suggestions from the male patrons of the bar."

Xander frowned at the Watcher, his face paling at the thought of a drunken Anya and he stood up, turning to face the blond. "Come on, we're going to the Bronze."

Spike shrugged. He didn't care, he just wanted out and the opportunity to beat up something. There was as much chance of finding it at the Bronze as anywhere else. Unfortunately all the Bronze held, apart from the usual teenage patrons, were the girls, seated at a table in the middle of some heated debate.

"Frederico Bloggadonovich," stated Anya.

"Who's that?" asked Buffy.

"I haven't the faintest idea," she replied.

"Well, why mention his name? Is he famous or something?" asked Willow and Anya frowned, shaking her head in confusion.

"I don't know - tell me who he is and I'll tell you if he's famous," she grinned at the redhead and it was Willow’s turn to frown.

"Well, I don't know him - you mentioned his name so I was kind of hoping you would know if he's famous or not and who he is," Willow stated.

"Who who is?" asked Anya.

"Geez, Frederico Bloggadonovich! You know, the guy you just mentioned," Buffy stated before dissolving into a fit of giggles.

"Frederico Bloggadonovich? Who's that?" Anya asked.

Spike stared, what the hell were they all going on about? "What the hell are you prats gibbering about?"

"I think we're going in circles...how did this start?" Willow asked, turning to Buffy who was sculling her drink and squirming about on her chair.

"A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down," sung Buffy tunelessly, turning her empty glass upside down and neatly placing it next to a row of ten other empty glasses. "Mary Poppins, Disney song lyrics - it's the only one I know except for Supercalifragilisticexpealidocious..."

"That isn't a word," stated Anya, draining her glass and stacking it with the rest sitting in a neat pyramid in front of her.

"No, it's a song lyric," replied Buffy, giggling madly to herself before glancing up to spot a very bemused Spike and Xander. "Spike!! Xander! Oh it's a lovely holiday with...well never been on holidays with either of you, so nyah!!"

"Xander? Why aren't you drinking with us? You have to catch up!" Anya slurred to Xander as she pulled him down next to her and let out an ear splitting scream for the bar attendant, who scurried over. Their orders were given, a whiskey for Spike, ten shots of bourbon for Xander and another ‘round’ for the girls.

"I didn't know that they waited tables at the Bronze," Xander stated quietly and Buffy giggled.

"They don't, but we kept dropping everything so we just have to scream now," she nodded to herself and squinted at Spike. "Spike!!"

Spike caught a whiff of her breath and smirked, the Slayer was drunk. Glancing about the table and the empty glasses stacked in front of each girl, he made the assumption that they were all drunk. Oh joy, a night with three drunken girls...well that could be fun and his mind, fuelled by his earlier game of ‘moral dilemmas’, went into perversion overdrive and he shuddered at the thought. The bar attendant came back and lined up the drinks and Spike raised an eyebrow at the shots that were quickly lined up in front of Xander.

"Okay you," Anya turned to her beloved. "Skull, now!"

Always one to comply to her every wish Xander started to pick up the shots and downed them while the girls cheered him on with screams of ‘skull, skull, skull’. He was flushed by the fourth, sweating by the eighth and completely pissed by the tenth. .

Spike rolled his eyes in disgust and glanced about the club, hoping beyond hope that some demon would try to destroy the cesspool of hormonal angst and rage so that he could get a bit of action in the way of violence. Of course it didn't happen.

Two hours and a suicidal amount of boredom later, Spike and four extremely intoxicated teenagers made their way back to Xander's house. It wouldn’t have been so bad if they had been quiet drunks, but oh no, the Slayer and her little gang had to spend the entire trip singing various songs from Disney musicals. Generally they ended up being sung as "La, la, la...erm whatever...la, de, da, de, da" because they were all too drunk to remember the words. Of course that had been nothing compared to the annoying song from 'My Fair Lady', to which Anya changed the lyrics to something that really shouldn't have been shared - had he been able to Spike would have blushed. They had just managed to stumble into the backyard when Xander began looking for his keys.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!" Xander screamed, batting at his chest with his hands while jumping from one foot to another.

"Xander? What is it?" wailed Anya, watching as her beloved hopped madly about his backyard. "Shush...parents!"

Xander stopped for a moment to look at her and nodded before returning to his mad hopping and batting at his shirt.

"Bloody hell," muttered Spike, making a mental note never to go drinking with this pathetic lot.

"Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhh," screamed Xander, quieter this time so as not to wake the neighbourhood or his parents.

"What are you raving about?" spat Spike.

"This, this," he batted at his shirt, trying to pull it off. "It's evil, trying to kill me...help...kill it...kill it."

"Oh, oh the shirt is killing him, get it off him!" screamed Anya at Spike.

"Bugger off. She's the Slayer, she can save him from the killer Hawaiian soddin' shirt," Spike motioned to Buffy with a flick of his wrist. "I only do things I can maim."

Everyone paused for a moment to stare at the Slayer, who turned to look at them before hiccupping slightly and falling flat on her ass in the middle of the yard to giggle at Xander, a practically full bottle of whiskey clutched in her hand. "He's dancing. Don't you love Xander dancing?"

Spike shook his head and looked back at the intoxicated idiot who was still screaming and trying to remove the multi coloured shirt. Stepping forward, Spike grabbed the back of the shirt and pulled, popping all the buttons and ripping it from the highly agitated drunk.

"There it's off. Happy?" Spike asked sarcastically. Xander, however, was still hopping madly around the yard, hiding behind the girls.

"Kill it, kill it - it's evil, it will destroy everything!"

Spike rolled his eyes in disgust before grabbing the bottle of whiskey from the seated Slayer and pouring some over the shirt. Then he lit a match and dropped it down, setting the multi coloured Hawaiian shirt alight.

"Aaaaahhhhhhh!" screamed Xander, still hiding behind the girls. "Die you dead evil shirt thing...but wait...there's more..." Xander disappeared into his house only to return a few moments later with a handful of brightly coloured Hawaiian shirts. He threw the shirts at Spike before hiding behind the girls again. "Burn the evil, kill them all before they kill me!"

Spike grinned, he hated those shirts - should have been made illegal. Happily, he tossed them onto the burning fire before adding a little more whiskey to enhance the flame. "Burn, baby. Burn!"

"Oh poor Xander, let me kiss it better," murmured Anya, eagerly locking her lips with Xander’s and leading him towards the house. Behind them, Willow giggled and helped Buffy up. Twirling together in a fit of giggles the two girls followed the ever loving couple into the house and Spike, since the fire had pretty much consumed the evil shirts, decided there was nothing better to do than tag along. As soon as he saw the perpetually horny couple making out on the bed he wished he had stayed outside and watched the shirts burn.

"Wow, kiss-a-thon," giggled Buffy before turning to look at Willow. "Is Xander a good kisser?"

Buffy plopped down on the side of the bed, patting the corner for Willow to also sit.

"Shush," whispered Willow, sitting down while Spike wandered across to take a seat in his bright orange sleeping chair. "We don't talk about that."

"Spike's a good kisser," Buffy raised her fingers to trace her moist lips and sighed. "He made my lips tingle, not to mention my toes and..." she paused to giggle and rub her other hand over her short skirt. "Other places."

"Spike?" queried Willow, shooting a glance in the direction of Spike lounging in his chair. "Wow."

"Yeah," Buffy whispered, her eyes closing as she lost herself in the memory of Spike's kisses. Sighing, she opened her eyes and let her lust filled gaze fall on Spike.

"What?" he asked, not liking the look that had entered her bloodshot grey blue eyes. His eyes widened in horror as the Slayer pushed herself off the bed and staggered toward him "What are you looking at?"

"Spike," Buffy whispered, crawling drunkenly over his body, much to his dismay and he started to inch his way back up and out of the chair. "Kiss me again?"

"What the bloody hell are you on about?" Spike didn’t have any further to inch and he fell with a loud thud to the floor, only to clamber to his feet and glare at her. Slowly he began to back away from the drunken and pouting Slayer. He should have moved quicker as Buffy launched herself at him, entangling her arms about his knees, her face tilted up to look at his face, positioning her chin and mouth just below the crotch of his jeans. < Interesting position for the Slayer... >

"I'm just a Slayer... standing in front of a vampire... asking him to love her." Buffy pleaded before breaking his gaze to glance about her. "Okay, so I'm on my knees...Spike, kiss me?"

"Get off you stupid sod," Spike tried rather ineffectively to brush the Slayer’s arms from around his knees. He glanced up at the bed where Xander and Anya were passed out from the lack of oxygen during their kiss-a-thon while Willow sat on the corner trying unsuccessfully not to giggle. "Don't just bleedin' sit there - HELP ME! Get her off me, get her off me!"

With that desperate cry of help Willow couldn't help but collapse into fit of giggles.

"Don't you want me?" Buffy whimpered, releasing his knees and staring in disbelief as he backed himself into a corner, as far away from her as he could get. She stood, rather unsteadily, and swung a look at the giggling Willow before returning her gaze to Spike. "You are joking right? 'Cause everyone wants me...I'm the Slayer! Look at me," she glanced down at herself, letting her hands caress the planes of her body, cupping her breasts and then flicking her hair as she raised her arms in the air. "I have breasts, tanned skin, nice legs and blonde hair..." She swayed unsteadily on her feet for a moment, looking dejectedly at Spike, before throwing her head back and screaming. "I'm gorgeous!"

In a single fluid motion she fell flat on her back on the floor with an astonishingly loud thud.

"Oh God, Buffy?" Willow rushed to stand beside her fallen friend only to be answered by a soft snore.

"What the hell was that about?" asked Spike from his corner.

"She's doesn't know it yet, but she's a necrophiliac." Willow stated calmly, bending over her unconscious friend to ensure that she had indeed merely passed out from drinking far too much.

"She has a thing for dead...things?" Spike asked, slowly moving forward and appreciating the view of Willow bending over in a short skirt.

"Think about it - her first was Angel. Dead. She is an aggressive necrophiliac." Willow said, straightening up and glancing at the couple passed out on the bed. "Do you think we should move her to the bed or somewhere more comfortable?"

"Nah, leave the little...you mean Angel was passive?" Spike demanded, the word ‘passive’ finally working into his thoughts. He had never known Angelus to be passive in his sexual activities, maybe the soul changed that as well, although he couldn't imagine it. Willow laughed lightly and turned to face him.

"In a way. Angel and you would be the passive partners in necrophilia...since you are both dead..."

Spike cocked his head. During his short time in residence with the Watcher he had discovered that the little witch had a warped sense of humor and he let his eyes roam over her, nice little package for that humour, not to mention the intelligence that came with it. Mentally, he shook himself - she was drunk...although that had never stopped him before and usually it was for the best. After all, drunks had a terrible habit of not remembering what they did the night before and since his chances of mindless violence had been well and truly squashed for the evening he might as well go for the gratuitous shag instead. Smirking, he moved in closer until he could feel the heat of her body.

"Love, I am never passive when it comes to sex," he purred. Willow smiled and ran her hands along his shirt, closing the small distance between their bodies. Spike smirked. < She wants me. I'm gettin' some tonight. >

"Really?" she asked him in wide-eyed innocence, rubbing her pelvis against his growing erection, causing her eyebrows to shoot up in surprise. Grinning, she stepped back, breaking the contact of their bodies. "Pity I'm a bestiality type of girl."

Spike heard the giggle before the words registered. His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist as she started to turn away and he pulled her back in flush against his body. His other hand reached around and grasped her ass, lifting her up and into him. Blue eyes pierced green as he started to walk them back toward the chair.

"I can be a beast as well, Red," he leant in and licked her neck working his way up to her ear, biting it lightly. They bumped into the chair, falling back onto it and Spike wedged one of his legs firmly between her thighs, causing the skirt to ride up. "So, you want to become a necrophiliac?"

He let his lips trace a burning path along her neck and jaw, sneaking his way up toward her mouth. Beneath him, Willow shrugged and giggled lightly. "I guess I should try everything at least once before I die...hang on, if I die then I might be a partner in necrophilia..."

"Wouldn't you rather remember it?" Spike murmured against her ear as his hands roamed over her body. The only reply was her lips brushing hesitatingly over his. < And I'm in like Flynn! >

He licked at her lips, teasing them with his tongue until she was flustered and trying to catch his mouth with her own. Burying his hand in her hair, he crushed his mouth against hers, his tongue demanding and dominating the sweet taste of her mouth. He kissed her with fevered determination, tasting her essence, tasting...coke? Coke, that was all he could taste apart from Willow, there wasn't a trace of alcohol. Spike lifted his head and looked down at her flushed face and wide green eyes.

"Bloody hell, you're not drunk," he stated and Willow giggled.

"Caffeine high - does it matter?" she asked, dragging his head down for another demanding and passionate kiss. "Necrophilia me, Spike."

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