Spike crushed out the remainder of his cigarette in the chipped bowl that he’d been using as an ashtray, before sprawling back down on the sofa. The day had started out fairly well, seeing his boy off to work. He’d managed to get the boy all flushed and embarrassed, before sending him away for the day. His Xander was surprisingly pretty when he blushed. A lovely rosy colour would rush up his entire face and those big brown eyes would inevitably focus on the floor. The boy was definitely a born submissive. Harris had always been more of a follower than a leader from what he’d seen. In all honesty despite the master vampire’s reservations, things really couldn’t have turned out better for him. The whelp was by far the easiest of the slayerettes for him to control. Course his boy also had a wicked stubborn streak, but winding him up was half the fun. Spike was quite convinced that his Kitten was fair superior to any of the other alternatives.

 

The red headed witch, though quite lovely, was growing more and more unstable by the moment. He was almost relieved that he’d been unable to make good on his threat to turn her. The Devil only knew what she would do next. Still running off the high of resurrecting Buffy, the chit was rapidly spinning out of control. He only hoped that the Watcher would be able to talk some sense into the girl before she did something irreparable. That was if the old bugger decided to stay on the Hellmouth and not turn tail and run, again.

 

Now the other witch, the vampire wasn’t certain about. He had a feeling though that the blonde witch would have been a problem as well. Glinda wasn’t half as timid as she made herself out to be. An infinitesimal part of Spike liked to think that he’d played a role in that. She’d quietly grown more and more confident since learning that she was in fact human and not the monster that she and all the womenfolk in her family had always been painted as. He could see a time in the future when the bird’s family would live to regret their deception, if not from Tara, then likely her former paramour. This was another reason the blonde girl would have made a poor pet in the long run. Taking her would very likely have sent the little redhead into a right tizzy. Not to say that she didn’t care deeply for Harris, but she’d faced off with a Hell God for the blonde girl. He’d seen the beginnings of what Willow Rosenburg could do in a rage and had no real desire to push her over the edge. Neither of the witches were good choices as companions.

 

The demon girl had been interesting to have a go with, and might even have made an interesting partner in crime. He was certain that the two of them could have done some damage together in the days before the chip. Spike, however, was quite certain that after a week with her as his plaything, that he’d be ready to stake himself. Anyanka was too pushy to ever make a good slave. Besides there was something about a lady who’d spent the better part of a millennia making blokes dangly bits fall off that would turn even a vampire off eventually.

 

Now his little Nibblet he was surprisingly ambivalent about. He knew that he adored her and could well make her into his new dark princess. He couldn’t say with total certainty that he wouldn’t do so should the chip ever become ineffective. Of course, in doing so, the teenager that had half-adored him would be destroyed. His Little Bit’s innocence gone forever. Replaced by a similar, but different creature that wore his sweet young friend’s face. He wasn’t deluded enough to not realize it would eventually happen anyway. The teenager would grow into a woman; she was already half way there. She was becoming a beautiful young lady, her once gangly and awkward limbs, becoming light and graceful. Physically she reminded him of a lighter haired Drusilla. He was fairly confident that he was the only one that could see it. The others still considered her a little girl, never mind that Red, the slayer and of course his Kitten were all already protecting the Hellmouth by the time they were her age.

 

Still there was a part of him that still thought of himself as the girl’s protector. Till the end of the world. On some level taking Dawn would have been strange, and unnatural. Wrong. He growled, pushing that silly idea out of his head. Hello, he was evil! E-V-I-L. He’d been around the bloody Scooby gang too long, he sighed standing up and stretching. He was a vampire, yet he’d let himself become infected by these children and their silly ideas. Maybe Dru had been right. He snarled angrily to himself, reaching across the coffee table for his cigarettes and lighter. With agility borne out of years of practice he pulled a fag out and lit it in one fluid motion.

 

This contemplation was useless. Who cared what might have been with the others? The boy was his, to use in anyway he saw fit. The vampire smiled remembering the previous weekend. He hadn’t felt this good in ages. Just remembering the feel of his boy, so sweet and tight, clamped around him was making him hard again. Bloody Hell! His pet wouldn’t be home for a couple of hours yet. He’d just have to wile away the hours deciding exactly what he’d do with his dark haired toy once he got home. Right now though, Spike was having difficulty focusing on anything beyond shagging the whelp silly. He wanted to plunge into the male Scooby the moment he walked through the door.

 

He’d have to be careful not to damage his pet though. He did secretly worry about just how far he could take his brown eyed beauty.  Mortals were fragile, brittle things. Press a little too hard here, pound a little too forcefully there and all his fun would be over. So he’d have to be creative with his tormenting of the boy. He’d tried a great deal of the tamer stuff that he and Dru had gotten into over the years, but knew there wasn’t much more left to draw from that well. Problem was, he wasn’t used to human sex, let along, sex with a human bloke. His experiences with his Grandsire, well those were better left in the past.

 

Truth was, most of his experience was with women, mostly Dru, in fact. Well of course Buffy and sadly Harm, but the time he’d spent with them hardly seemed to compare to a century with Drusilla. He’d been a virgin when he’d been turned. A couple of his “friends” had tried to drag him to a brothel once as part of a cruel prank, but nothing had come of that. They had been most amused when their little escapade had yielded the expected result, young William being utterly scandalized and rushing home to Mother. The entire episode had left the Victorian both confused and aroused.

 

In any event, all three of the relationships had been bizarre. Drusilla’s sexual appetites and tastes had been brutally moulded at the hands of her maker and Spike had been able to do nothing in over a century to change that. Not that the blond minded a little rough bed sport form time to time. Only, there had been times when the blond had wanted to track down his Grandsire and send the bastard to Hell were he belonged. Only the fear that Drusilla might take a stroll in the garden at midday without him to watch over her, had prevented him from starting off on the fool quest some nights. The sheer devastation of what that wanker had done to his Dru, made even a creature that’d gotten his name torturing his victims with railroad spikes, shudder. Yet time and time again his black hearted beauty had returned to her sire, if not in reality, then at the very least in her mind. That had always been the hardest for Spike, when Dru needed him to play Angelus. Needless to say his Xander didn’t have the physical fortitude for those kinds of games. He’d played them though, time and time again for over a century; been everything that she needed, only to be cast aside when the genuine article had triumphantly returned.

 

His relationship with Harm, strangely enough, was probably his most “normal” relationship, hampered only by the fact that he couldn’t stand the bloody annoying chit. Shame though, the sex had actually been pretty good. Unfortunately he’d felt next to nothing for the newly turned teenaged girl. The only thing he could see improving that farce of a liaison was the silly bint becoming mute.

 

He didn’t even know how to classify the train wreck that had been his relationship with Buffy. He still couldn’t believe that he’d told her about Cecily. Of course being the sensitive soul that she was, she’d turned that against him. It wouldn’t be you, Spike. It could never be you. You’re beneath me. Oh yes, paragons of virtue, these white hats. Have someone confide in you, share their most intimate secrets with you and then turn around and stab them in the heart with them. Still didn’t stop her from asking for his help. She hadn’t asked his boy, the watcher or the witch. When it came down to protecting that which was most precious to her, she had come to him. I'm counting on you ... to protect her. Love sick fool that he was, he’d agreed. Till the end of the world. Even if that happens to be tonight. He’d been a fool to think any of that would mean anything to his ladylove.

 

Even after her death he’d continued to honour that promise, patrolling with the Watcher and the children. He’d been their only real muscle aside from the Buffybot. The robot, though a technological marvel, still behaved far too erratically to be trusted to protect his Nibblet. The slayer’s little sister was the only part of Buffy he had left and he wasn’t about to leave her unguarded. Besides he’d promised.

 

After the foolish children had brought Buffy back from the grave, he’d been the one she’d turned to. The only one she felt able to share her feelings with. He’d been so sodding happy at the time. His girl was finally connecting to him. The sad truth was he was the only one she had not been afraid of hurting with the truth of what they had really done to her. If he still believed for one moment that it was because he hadn’t had any part in bringing her back, he could have lived with that. He would have been able to accept that without regret.

 

He wasn’t the only one who hadn’t participated in the idiocy of resurrecting their fallen comrade, though. She could have gone to the Watcher. She should have called him. Wouldn’t the old boy have been the most logical place to go for guidance? Problem was, she cared for the old man. She’d known the knowledge would break the Englishman’s heart. So she’d gifted her secrets to Spike, he was in love with her, and would keep her confidence. He was a dead thing, his feelings unworthy of consideration; he’d just been too much of a fool to realize it at the time. He’d actually thought that they were bonding.

 

Perhaps having the entire house fall around them when they had shagged the first time should have given him an inkling of the girl’s true feelings or possibly the fact that his lover had insisted on absolute secrecy? He’d known that he was only a means to an end, a way for the disengaged young woman too feel again. Even so, he’d let her seek him out, time and time again, so that she could make herself feel once more. That is until she decided that she’d had her fill, that she’d indulged in her slumming long enough. Then it had been goodbye Spike, your company and presence are no longer required, thanks so much for being a good sport, now run along like a good lad and don’t let the door hit you on the arse on the way out. His little golden heroine had used prettier words though. I’m using you. I can’t love you. I’m just… being weak, and selfish… and it’s killing me. I’m sorry… William. Cast aside like so much rubbish. Now didn’t that little tune sound familiar somehow? He was love’s bitch all right.

 

But then, then Spike had committed the most heinous crime, he’d found some comfort with some one else. How dare he! That wasn’t for him; no he was supposed to wait on standby in case the stupid bint changed her mind and decided she needed his services again. The look she’d given him outside the magic shop. He’d thought he was going to have it out with her one and for all right there in the street, but then she’d just walked away. Not having spared him a second glance. He snarled angrily at the memory. Angelus, Drusilla, Buffy, Hell even Harmony, in the end they always left. Not his Kitten though, the young man was his, would never abandon him. Because he can’t, an annoying little voice that sounded suspiciously like that tart Cecily whispered in the back of his mind.

 

What Spike needed was a good stiff drink. The immortal punk snuffed out what was left of his cigarette, stood up and made his way to the kitchen, going straight to the Cupboard over the sink. There was beer in the icebox, but at the moment the hyperactive vampire was in need of something more potent. He’d been surprised to find that his pet actually had a decent liquor cabinet this morning when he’d unpacked his things. Probably Anya’s influence, the birds were all about dinner parties and entertaining these days. Couldn’t have a proper dinner party without some nice cocktails, now could you? Fine with him, just meant more booze for the blokes. Hmmm, rum, gin, tequila, bourbon… whiskey, that should do nicely, Spike decided pulling out a nearly full bottle. He quickly uncapped the bottle, drinking down a sizable gulp, and not bothering with a glass.

 

He’d managed to empty a good third of the bottle when he was interrupted by someone insistently pounding on the flat’s door, hard enough to make the dishes in the cupboard’s shake precariously. Spike recognized the scent before his visitor ever said a word. He’d been drenched in that smell often enough over the past few months. If he hadn’t been drinking, she never would have gotten to door before he detected his ex-lover’s unique fragrance.

 

“Open the door Spike or I swear I’ll kick it down,” The Slayer demanded angrily, still beating her fist against the door. He considered just leaving her out there, but decided against it. Sighing, he slid the chain out of its track and unlocked the door.

 

“That would just end up coming out of Harris’ security deposit, you realize?” He smirked, leaning against the doorway, attempting to look nonchalant.

 

“We need to talk Spike,” the petite young woman declared, brushing past him.

 

“I thought we had nothing left to talk about, luv. You made that achingly clear,” he snapped, slamming the door behind them.

 

“Spike…” she began, obviously trying to contain her anger. Well, no self respecting vampire could allow that, not that he could still be considered self respecting. Sodding Hell, the bloody drink was making him positively maudlin.

 

“Did you change your mind and decide you wanted another tumble?” He leered, stopping short of calling her pet. It seemed wrong now somehow, which was silly, it wasn’t as though it was an honour that should be reserved for the boy.

 

“Don’t be disgusting, I came to talk, Spike. Actually no, I know that appealing to your sense of decency won’t do any good,” she sniffed in obvious disdain.

 

“Don’t have any, ducks,” he smirked in what he hoped was his best parody of his former self. Stupid bird, how dare she come here and dredge up all these feelings. As if her presence was required for that, the Cecily voice taunted.

 

“Believe me, I know. I’ve come to negotiate,” Buffy replied in obvious distaste.

 

“Negotiate?” Would Slayer and company never get the point? There was no way for them to get male slayerette out of this. Circumventing the bargain, would collapse the orb’s power, sending the world into chaos.

 

“For my friend, tell me what it will take to make you leave Xander alone?” Did the stupid bint really think there was anything that would buy him off? Did she think any amount of power or money would buy back the devotion that he’d once felt for her? Could she even conceive of adoration so powerful that it had caused him to try and change his very nature for her? Buffy had no idea what she’d thrown away. He’d tried to become a white hat for her, but nothing had been good enough. Still he was… beneath her.

 

Well, he had better now. A warm, soft body his for the taking, completely subject to his whims. It was time for someone to see to him, long past time. He’d spent his entire existence looking after everybody else’s needs, always putting himself second.  It was finally his turn! As if he’d even consider giving that up!

 

“Nothing, the carpenter is mine and I have no intention of giving him up. He’s a right sweet shag and as you can see, thanks to him my circumstances have improved,” Spike waved in the general direction of the apartment. Though the effect would have been better, had he managed to redecorate. Really, who had tools hung up in the living room?

 

“I could have the chip removed,” she whispered knowingly, attempting to entice him.

 

“What? Do you think I’m stupid? Do you think I haven’t tried, Slayer?” the master vampire snarled furious.

 

“I have access to resources that you don’t. I’m still in contact with Riley, his people know more about the chip than anyone on the planet. I could persuade him to have it removed,” the little vixen tempted.

 

“Captain Cardboard would never allow it. He’d never allow me to run free, capable of harming humans,” Spike snapped dismissing the idea.

 

“He’d do it for me,” his hazel eyed former obsession insisted.

 

“Not anymore he wouldn’t. I think you’re overestimating your own importance, sweet. Cornbread has a new lady now, one that doesn’t use him to get off while thinking of Angel. Besides did it not occur to you that that would have been the very first thing that I would ask for? Returning me to my former glory wasn’t an option the Powers would even consider. You have nothing to offer me, girl,” he hissed. The statement was mostly true.

 

“Not even myself?” Buffy offered, moving into her former adversary’s personal space.

 

“What?” He seemed to be asking that over and over. He knew he must be blinking stupidly, his surprise evident.

 

“I’ll give you what you want Spike, me, back in your bed. I know you still want me. I know you miss me. Miss us,” she offered, moving to rub against him. Yes part of him did still want it. Bollocks, in truth, it had been the first thing that he had asked for. How pathetic had he become that he wouldn’t ask to be restored first? That should have been his first thought, but no he would have been willing to remain as he was, neutered and impotent, in order to have her again, but not any longer.

 

“Would you do that? Would you play the whore for me? Let me tie you down and shag you in his place? Would you whimper for me like he does? Let me tease you, caress you until you’re almost at the point of no return, only to stop and leave you there, aching in frustrated misery?” Spike was trying to be vicious, but honestly it sounded too much like the games that he and the chosen one had been playing not so long ago. Difference was even when he’d been the one in control she’d still held all the power.

 

“Yes,” she whispered, her beautiful eyes filling with tears. She’d do it too. Wouldn’t that just give her a merry excuse to keep things going with good old Spike? He thought taking a long swig out of the bottle he’d almost forgotten he’d been holding. He wiped his mouth angrily with the back of his hand. She’d be able to keep using him to get her jollies and be all self-righteous and noble about it.

 

“Too bad I’m no longer interested,” he growled scornfully. “Besides you can’t force me to give up my claim on Harris, not by threats, not by force, not even by bribery. it would destroy the magic of the orb, turn it into a paper weight. It’s the mystical keystone to the gateway leading into this dimension, without it the walls of this universe would collapse. You cannot knowingly interfere, girl. No outside influence can break Xander’s connection to me.”

 

“You said you loved me,” she begged sounding desperate.

 

“I did. I fought by your side, defended your loved ones, and looked after them even after you were gone, but none of that was ever good enough for you. I’m nothing to you,” he barked angrily.

 

“Don’t you understand that’s why I had to stop it, Spike? I couldn’t keep doing that to either of us,” she pleaded, asking for his understanding.

 

“Shut up! Stopping had nothing to do with me! Don’t you stand there and pretend you ended it for my benefit. It was you. Always been all about you. Your pain, your frustration, your anger. You couldn’t take it out on your saintly friends, but it was fine to take it out on me. It was fine to make use of me as a sympathetic ear, a fuck toy, a punching bag, whatever you were in the mood for. You knew how I felt, you knew I wouldn’t say no to you.  I let you, over and over again. Do you know what that was like? Well not any more,” he was yelling now. The neighbours could probably hear them, hopefully no one was calling the police.

 

“Spike, I…” she began, only to stop. What could she really say to that? The absolute anguish on her face almost made him want to reach out and comfort her. “Please Xander didn’t do anything. If you’re angry at me, then take it out on me. What you’ve just described me doing to you, that’s almost exactly what you’re doing to Xan and he doesn’t deserve that.”

 

“He made his choice. He willingly turned himself over to me,” Spike answered defensively.

 

“At least let us see him then, just to make sure he’s all right,” the young woman requested anxiously.

 

“Sod off. He’s just bloody peachy, learning all about the joys of sodomy. Now get out!” the vampire rumbled mockingly.

 

“Spike…” the shorter woman appealed, reaching out for him. He immediately stepped back, out of her reach.

 

“I told the watcher and now I’m telling you. Stay away from me and my pet. I swear if you don’t leave within the next 30 seconds, I’ll start packing this place up and move myself and the boy out of Sunnydale, tonight. I’ll take him from his job and that useless drunken excuse of a family and move us half way around the world where you will never find us.” Spike threatened. He really hoped that it wouldn’t come to that, but if the Scoobies didn’t stop he would be left with no other alternative.

 

“No,” Buffy cried. Tears falling unashamedly down her lovely face.

 

“29, 28, 27…” Spike counted, trying to control his pain and his anger. He was through bowing down too her.

 

“No, Spike I’ll go, please. I’ll go,” she pleaded raising her hands in an attempt to calm his rage. She shook her head on the way out the door, hugging herself. ”Spike, I know you’re angry with me right now, but please, please think before you take this out on him when he gets back tonight,” she said turning to face him one last time.

 

He slammed the door angrily behind her, locking it as if that would prevent her from getting back in if she so chose. Sod it. He’d finished the last bit of the whiskey. He was going to need another bottle.

 

Bargain Part 18

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