Good Job, Spike

BY : SpikesEvilbint
Category: BtVS AU/AR > General
Dragon prints: 1474
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Hi Wilder - I'm hoping that you read this - thanks for the great rev that you left on Good Girl, Spike. This one is a bit happier - so dedicating it to you. :) If you like Spuffy check out Mabel Marsters on Spuffy Realm, Fanfiction.net and Elysian Fields - I think you might like the fics :)

Thanks to everyone who is reading - I know I can't respond but I do love reviews :)


Good Job, Spike

Spike sighed and settled back on to the bed. He lifted his legs up and put them, without being asked, on to the supports that held them up and apart. He had to admit that this wasn’t his favourite thing but, hey, it could be a lot worse. God knows, he’d seen some sorry sights in this place. He shuddered as he recalled seeing a vamp that’d actually been turned in to a woman! He had hardly been able to believe his eyes, when the poor man – woman - thing had been rushed in to the O.R. as Spike was waiting for his procedure.


He hadn’t been sorry when the creature had been dusted. The nurses had told him that its implanted vagina had been ruptured by a demon client getting a little too enthusiastic during a session. Spike was thankful that he only had to worry about humans and had resolved to do his job as well as he bloody could from that moment on. No sulking for Spike. No swearing when the docs did their stuff. Not aloud anyway.


“Hello there, Spike. I see that you have a busy day planned - three. Will you need a little help to perform? You only have an hour in between each and that includes having to come back here too,” said the doctor kindly.


Bollocks, will I need any sodding help!


Spike took a deep breath and said calmly, “No, thanks Doc, I’m sure I’ll be okay.”


“Good man,” said the doctor absently as he drew up the contents of a vial in to a syringe with a needle on the end that Spike was sure was bigger than it needed to be.


Spike felt the coldness of the surgical swab used to sterilise the area and gritted his teeth against the inevitable pain.


Sodding hell!


He closed his eyes. It felt as if someone had just stuck a bloody great needle in his bollocks.


That’s ‘cause that’s what the doc had just done! And got to have it done another twice more today. Great.


He was determined not to let them hear him scream. He should have gotten used to it by now. But he hadn’t.


The doctor noticed how tense Spike had gone. “It could be pain-free if you consented to the procedure that I pioneered. I don’t understand why you put yourself through this.”


Spike stared at him. Was he for real?


Firstly, I don’t fucking put me through this – you do, and secondly…


“Told you I’m happy as I am,” replied Spike feeling quite pleased that he hadn’t yelled at the stupid git. But the memory of the sex change vampire, was clear in his mind. Didn’t want to end up in the section where that was done!


“Well, now that you’re busier, if your performance drops off, it will be done whether you consent or not. My superiors think that it should be compulsory. You’d be able to go every hour then, every day.”


Spike just looked at him. There was no way that he could open his gob without saying something that he would surely regret.


“You’d better get dressed and get back to your quarters. You know that you’ll be punished if you run late.”


“Yeah, Doc,” Spike ground out as he lifted his legs from their restraints and got carefully off the bed.

He was naked and bent down to pick his clothes up from the chair where he’d folded them before the procedure. He pulled on his black designer jeans, gingerly pulling up the zipper and wincing as his slightly swollen balls were squashed. The black silk shirt was one of his favourites but he hated his shoes. He missed his old battered boots. These were poncey slip on shoes. He sighed as he pulled on his socks and grumpily thrust his feet in to the shoes.


“See you in an hour, Spike.”


“Yeah,” replied Spike as he walked away and back along the corridor to his room.


He stepped in and smiled as he saw the bed. It was huge and comfortable, covered with deep red satin sheets. Okay, so it was a bit of a cliché but he didn’t get to pick the décor. He sat at the dressing table and picked up some eyeliner. He hadn’t worn it for years before he’d been brought here but these days, he liked putting it on. He rubbed some gel through his hair, spiking it up. A bell tinkled softly.


“Showtime!”


Spike moved from the stool and lounged on the bed. The door opened and his face split in to a grin as he saw his visitor. She was a hell of a looker. Taller than him and super-model skinny, her long brown hair fell in soft waves to her shoulders.


“Hello, love,” he said warmly. “Come and make yourself comfortable.” He patted the bed next to him.


“Strip off,” she snapped.


Fucking bitch! No wonder she can’t get a man.


Spike was careful not to let his feelings show. If he was reported then the Doc would get his way for sure. Or he might…He shuddered.


Got to stop thinking of that.


He stripped his clothes off, letting them simply fall to the floor. He watched her face as he revealed his cock. She might be a bitch but she was hot enough for him not to have any performance anxiety. He licked his lips as he saw her smile at his naked form.


“So how do you want to play this?” he asked.


Her smile faded. “You’ll keep quiet and do as I say.”


A bossy bint! His cock twitched in delight.


“On your back on the bed,” she said.


Spike lay down and made a play of wriggling up the bed until he was in the centre of it.


She took off her skirt revealing an absence of underwear. She kicked off her high heeled pumps and without further ado, straddled Spike and pushed herself down on his hard cock.


Christ!


Spike’s eyes watered a little; she was as dry as sandpaper. Luckily, after she had risen up and down a couple of times, she got wetter and it went from painful to pleasurable for Spike. He wasn’t so sure that there was any pleasure involved for her at all.


“Don’t string this out. Just do your job,” said the woman matter of factly.


Bloody cow!


Spike began to meet her movements with thrusts of his own. He’d show the bitch a good time if it killed him. A gasp told him that he was getting through to her. He tentatively put his hands on her hips – some didn’t want to be touched – and when she didn’t react, he guided her movements and his own until she came with a cry and Spike ejaculated seconds later.


He looked at her pretty face, all flushed by her orgasm and he reached up to tenderly push a lock of hair from her face. She slapped his hand away.


“What do you think that you are doing?”


He let his hand fall down and sighed softly. She got off him, put on her skirt and shoes and left the room without a second glance.


Spike groaned as the door slammed shut. He still hoped for some affection back from his ‘visitors’. He should know by now that it never happened. But sex without kissing just didn’t seem right. He climbed off the bed and went to have a shower. He rubbed his sore balls and fleetingly thought that by the time the procedure had been done three times that he might start to think of taking the doc up on his offer. No, Spike! Don’t ever think that! He dried himself off, got dressed and headed to the O.R. again.


Spike went to his usual bed, stripped off again and positioned himself once more with his legs held up and apart. He even managed to doze a little before the Doc woke him up. Spike’s hands gripped the edge of the bed, his knuckles were white, he bit the inside of his mouth try to distract him from the pain, and panted a little as the doctor carried out his work.


“I’m sorry, Spike,” said the doctor when he saw his patient begin to pant. “But you know the drill by now. We have to flush all traces of the sperm that we injected before the insemination procedure to ensure there is no chance of any surviving to mix with the next batch.”


Why can’t these sodding women make do with a turkey baster like they used to? thought Spike bitterly, wincing as the doctor flushed his bollocks with what felt like acid. Who the hell thought up the plan of artificial insemination by vampires with injected selected donor sperm? Spike glared at the doctor. Oh, yeah, that would be you, Doctor Giles. Fucking freak!


Spike noticed the doctor frown at his expression and worked hard to get a more benign one on his face – not easy when you’re getting scoured out. No matter how much it hurt, Spike didn’t want the alternative that Doctor Giles had developed. That consisted of his own testes being removed and replaced with artificial ones that would enable the injection and flushing to be totally without pain. Of course the bit of pleasure that Spike felt during the sex would disappear, but some had thought it a small price to pay. Not Spike. They were his bollocks and even though they were getting abused and it hurt like hell, they were staying where they were.


“Almost done,” said Doctor Giles. “Just injecting the sperm.”


I know you are, you daft git. Can bloody feel it can’t I?


“There you go. Off you go to get ready for your number two. See you in another hour or so.”


Spike nodded. He got down from the table and stared balefully at his jeans wishing that they were a little less of a tight fit. He pulled them on and bit back a yelp as he compressed his balls when he zipped them up. On with the shirt and on with the fucking horrible shoes and in no time, he was back in his bedroom. Well, it was his work room really. He’d never gotten to sleep in it. His quarters, when not at work, were no where near as plush. Not least because the single bed was narrow and as hard as a plank of blood.


He hadn’t been there long when the tinkling of the bell warned him of his visitor’s imminent arrival. He lounged on the bed and waited for the door to open. A woman walked in looking quite a bit older than most that Spike had serviced. His usual type were career women who were too self-absorbed to get a partner but when they got to thirty years old, panic set in about having no children. This woman looked nearer to forty, and she was weeping quietly.


Spike got off the bed. “Are you all right?” He stopped short of touching her.


The woman nodded a couple of times and sniffed loudly. Spike was at a loss as to what to do. The woman hadn’t moved or spoken after closing the door. He glanced a touch nervously at the clock on the wall above the door. He had to make sure that he’d serviced her and still have time to get cleaned out before the final appointment.


“Um…look…we’ve got to…” he said, hoping to prompt her in to action.


“Oh, God, this is so difficult,” sobbed the woman.


Spike smiled his sweetest smile; the one that when he was free was guaranteed to get whoever it was aimed at, in to his bed. It worked. She smiled weakly back at him and began to unbutton her blouse.


“Look, love, if you’re nervous you don’t have to get undressed at all.”


“Really?” she whispered.


“Really,” replied Spike. “Why don’t you sit on the bed and I’ll take my jeans off and then we can…”


She walked to the bed and sat there nervously fiddling with some rings on her left hand. Spike noticed and tilted his head. She definitely wasn’t a typical client. She stopped abruptly when she saw Spike looking.


“My husband died,” she said quietly.


“Oh,” replied Spike, not sure what to say and looking anxiously at the clock. He’d be punished if the last client was kept waiting.


“It’s his sperm that you…that is…um,” she stuttered. She looked up and met Spike’s eyes properly for the first time. “He had cancer and had some sperm frozen a few years ago. We had always hoped that we’d be together when I got pregnant.” She burst in to fresh sobs. “The doctors said that having the insemination done this way would make it more likely to take. But now I’m here – it just seems wrong.”


Spike sat on the bed next to her. “But he’d want you to have his baby, wouldn’t he? He wouldn’t want it to go to waste, would he now?”


To Spike’s relief, the woman shook her head. If he wasted sperm he was in big trouble. “So shall we?”


“I don’t know…I mean…” said the woman.


“Why don’t you lie down and pull up your skirt a little? It won’t hurt, I promise.” Just let me get my sodding job done – you indecisive cow.


She lay back and with trembling hands, she pulled up her skirt until Spike could see her cotton panties. He reached out and pushed them to the side, he teased her with his fingers, surprised at how quickly she got wet. He knelt over her, supporting his weight on his hands and slid in to her. He willed himself to come quickly. After over a century of learning self-control and being able to make love for hours, he’d been reduced to this. As quick as you can – like a kid having his first time. He surpassed himself this time. With regard to the time wasted already, it took just four thrusts before he came. He stayed inside her until his cock had expressed all of its valuable load, and then he withdrew. The woman was crying again.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked anxiously.


If a client said that a vampire had been too rough when they were serviced, they were immediately sent to one of the other departments. From what rumours Spike had heard, this was the only one that kept you intact. Well, unless Doc Giles had his way. He had no intention of finding out if the rumours were true or not.


He nearly sobbed with relief when she shook her head. “No, you were…very kind and gentle…it’s just been a bit of an emotional time.”


Spike held out his hand. “Can I help you up, love?”


She smiled at him and took the offered hand. Once on her feet, she smoothed down her skirt. “Thank-you. I’ll make sure that I give you top marks on the customer satisfaction form.”


Satisfaction form? Bloody hell!


She walked to the door.


“Um…good luck with the pregnancy,” said Spike.


She smiled at him again and went through the door. Spike immediately looked at the clock.


“Shit!”


He raced to the bathroom. It was compulsory to shower between clients, and to be honest, he wanted to get clean. He didn’t bother getting dressed afterwards just put on the robe that was hanging on the bathroom door and the slippers and hurried to the O.R.


“You’re cutting it fine, Spike,” grumbled Giles as he began to flush out Spike’s testicles.


Fuck! It was really bloody sore, and the doc wasn’t being too gentle about it either.


Finally, for the third and final time, Spike walked back to his room. He wasn’t allowed to be without clothes when the clients walked in, and so he swiftly got dressed and had just finished as the bell went. He lay back on the bed, wishing that he could just go to sleep on it. He forced his eyes open as the door opened. The girl who walked in must have been only mid twenties. What the hell was she messing about with donor sperm for? Spike couldn’t believe there wasn’t an army of men queuing up to oblige her every whim. She was perfection. Not very tall, maybe about five foot one or two when she wasn’t wearing killer heels, like she was now. Her hair was honey blonde and shone like it had its own source of illumination. She was wearing a long blue suede skirt with a blouse that matched the pink stripe running through the skirt.


Spike would have vamped out with shear lust, if the drugs that he was fed didn’t make it impossible. Even so, as his dick twitched happily, he let out a low growl of appreciation. She giggled at him, meeting his eye boldly.


“God, cliché much,” she said gesturing at the bed.


Spike stared. He was incapable of speech and also a little worried that he might be drooling. He sat up on the bed and wiped his left hand across his mouth – just in case. No moisture. Thank God! The way his balls were throbbing suddenly had nothing to do with Doctor Giles’ ministrations.


“Don’t you speak?” asked this vision of beauty. “Oh, God! I’m sorry, do they make you mute?”


Spike laughed. He actually laughed. How long had it been since he had? “No, I can speak. Bit daft asking me if I was mute, though.”


The girl collapsed in to fits of giggles, and Spike couldn’t help but join in. She was bloody adorable.


“Um…look, I might not have been made mute but life can get very difficult if I don’t …er…” Thank God that vamps can’t sodding blush! “Before the time runs out. Something to do with how viable the little swimmers are.”


“Oh!” The girl sobered instantly. “Right then.” All of a sudden she looked very businesslike. “You’d better get undressed.”


Spike was surprised to feel a little self-conscious as he took off his clothes. She watched every move that he made. She gestured to the bed when he was naked, but she stepped close to him before he could sit on it.


“Need to get me undressed first don’t you think? I always have trouble with the buttons – pesky things.”


She took his right hand in hers and rested it on her chest, just in the middle of both of her pert rounded breasts.


She licked her lips as she gazed in to his eyes. “So what are you waiting for? I thought that time was an issue?”


Jesus! I must be dust.


Spike brought his left hand up to join his right and began to unbutton her blouse. His hands were shaking. How long had it been since he’d undressed a woman? How long since he’d seen a woman naked? He shook the bleak thought that he must have been here at least five years, from his mind. He gasped as he took the blouse off the girl. She wasn’t wearing a bra and the sight of her breasts made him moan with longing.


Her small hands guided his hands to the zipper on her skirt. He watched open mouthed as the skirt fell, with a soft swish to the floor. He wasn’t surprised that she wasn’t wearing panties. She was like a goddess to him. Her skin had that lovely pale tan of one careful of burning but still sun kissed.


She pushed his shoulders and he sat down hard on the bed, making her giggle as the springs twanged. Her right hand wrapped itself around his cock. His gasp of surprise was smothered by her mouth landing on his and kissing him with fervour. Her tongue tasted of peppermint and it playfully quested for his own.


She pulled back and stared at him, breathing a little heavily. “You’re kind of passive. Don’t you want to hold me?”


“What?” Yeah, dust – no way is this real! “’Course I want to touch you it’s just…”


“Oh, shit! Yeah, the brochure said that you wouldn’t touch unnecessarily.”


“There’s a brochure?”


He didn’t realise that he’d said it aloud until she chuckled.


“Well, yeah! How do you think that you get picked out?”


“Um…never thought of it.”


“I must say that your photograph doesn’t do you justice.”

“Photo?” said Spike weakly.


“Age of digital imagery. Even vamps can get caught on camera these days.”


She was still chuckling, her greenish hazel eyes sparkling with mischief. She pushed Spike down until he was on his back and kissed him once more. This time Spike wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back ardently. He pushed his head back in the soft feather pillows as his client’s mouth left his mouth and began to trail kisses down his torso.


Then it all went horribly wrong!


Spike realised that he was in trouble when her hot lips wrapped themselves around his cock, tongue teasing at the moist tip. It was just too much for him to be able to cope with.


“Stop…please…I’m gonna…” he gasped.


Too late. He came and came so hard that he thought that he would pass out. For a second he lay there, basking in the pleasant afterglow of his orgasm, it had been so long since a woman had pleasured him. Then he panicked.


What the fuck have I done?


He sat bolt upright causing his client to fall unceremoniously to the floor, giving Spike more reason to panic. Now I’ve hurt the client! He took several steps away from the bed.


“What’s wrong?” asked the girl. “Didn’t you like it? It sure looked like you did.”


“Are you daft?” exclaimed Spike, turning to look at her. “I’ve just shot all the sperm that you have paid to be inseminated with down your fucking throat and not up your c–”


She silenced him by pulling him down into another kiss. He relaxed in to it for a moment before pushing her away. If he had been capable of hyperventilating, he would have fainted by now. He was finished. If he was lucky he would be dusted.


“Don’t worry about it,” said the girl calmly.


“Don’t worry!” shrieked Spike a little more shrilly than was manly. “Do you know what the other departments do in here? All of them include having little biddy pieces of you cut off!”


“Not so little biddy,” said the girl with a grin.


Spike looked at what her eyes were resting on and smiled despite his fears. His cock had risen once more.


“Seems a shame to waste it. We’ve still got some time left. Fancy doing me properly before I go?”


Spike gulped. “D…doing you properly?”


She nodded, took his hand and led him back to the bed. Spike stopped thinking with the head on the top of his neck. All thoughts of impending doom were pushed out of his mind as he embarked on the first proper sexual intercourse in years. The first love making. The small blonde revelled in giving him pleasure, working with her tongue to drive him once more to the brink. This time, he growled, flipped her over and took control. His tongue seeking out her core, grinning as she yelled as he returned the favour by making her come.

And then he was inside her. It seemed like they fit perfectly. Made for each other. As he came, a breath after she did for the second time, he knew that it would be the last time that he was capable of coming again. But it had been perfect and he would remember it forever. It had been almost worth it. He flopped down beside her, squeezing his eyes shut and hoping that she hadn’t seen the tears that had threatened to fall.


A short buzzer sounded and reality crashed down. That was it. The end. He felt the bed move as the girl got up. He looked at her through his lashes as she got dressed. Drinking in all that he could. Willing himself to remember every detail.


“Well, I’ve got to go,” said the girl.


“What’s your name?” asked Spike as he scrambled off the bed. Another rule broken, but he had to know. He clutched at her hand. She shook her head slightly and pulled out of his grasp. “Please, tell me,” Spike begged. But she stepped outside and closed the door. Spike ran to it and tugged but the lock had snicked shut. He turned around and slid down the door until he was sitting on the floor. He put his head in his hands and let the tears fall.


“Spike? You must come to the O.R. immediately.” Doctor Giles voice rattled tinnily through the intercom.


Reluctantly, Spike stood up. He knew that he had to face his fate. There was no escaping it. He picked up the bathrobe and then discarded it. He wanted to at least feel like himself for as long as he could. He put on his jeans and shirt but left his feet bare, and went out of the second door to the room. This one was never locked. It wasn’t until he was almost at the O.R. that he remembered that he hadn’t showered.


Christ, how many more things can I get wrong in one day?


“Ah, Spike,” said Doctor Giles when he saw him. “I need you at the table on the right please.”


Spike felt sick. What was wrong with his usual bed? He didn't dare to make matters worse by asking though. He was in enough trouble as it was. He walked to the table that the doctor had indicated as though his feet were dipped in treacle. He began to get on it.


“Strip first, Spike,” ordered the doctor.


“What? Oh, yeah. Sorry,” replied Spike and stripped under the watchful eye of the doctor and a couple of nurses.


Once on the table, which was just made of stainless steel and had no mattress or sheets, Spike lay down and lifted his legs in to the normal position. The panic that he had tried to keep in check came to the fore as his legs were strapped in to the rests. He began to sit up.


“Hey, why are you doing that? I never move do I? What’s going on?”


The two nurses grabbed his left arm and before he realised what they were doing, he felt a sharp prick in his arm. He stared in horror as one injected something in to him.


“What’s that?” His words were slurred and he flopped back on the table, his head hitting it with a clank. They’re knocking me out – Christ, they never use anaesthetics.


He tried in vain to fight the effects of the drugs but by the time the doctor had counted to ten, he was unconscious.


“I’ll miss him being one of mine. He was quite amenable to work with,” said Doctor Giles as he began the process of scouring the foreign semen from Spike’s system. “I’m certain that a few more busy days would have had him begging to do the transfer on him. See how discoloured and swollen the testes are.” He moved Spike’s flaccid cock to one side so that the nurses could see them clearly. “Ah, well, it wasn’t to be. I’m glad that he hasn’t been handed over to Ethan’s department. That would have been a shame.”


Giles and the nurses worked quickly. Spike had to be in his new quarters before he woke up. Doctor Giles concentrated on Spike’s genitals, as he usually did, whilst the nurses carefully shaved all body hair from Spike’s body, including his head. Every inch of his body was scrubbed and disinfected, leaving his skin pink, giving the illusion that he was human. Once the procedures were completed, Doctor Giles called for two porters to take him away.


“I think that he’ll be in for a bit of a shock when he comes around. It was a shame that he made such an impression on his final client,” he said to the nurses as they watched Spike leave their area for the last time.

Spike woke up shivering with cold and feeling nauseous from the drugs. He looked around him and wasn’t comforted by what he saw. He was in what appeared to be a white tiled tank. There was no apparent door and the sides must have been twenty feet high. He glanced down to his groin and sobbed with relief when he saw that he still had his tackle. He rubbed them affectionately and then froze. There was no sensation, or feeling in them at all. It was like rubbing a cushion, for all the pleasure that it gave him.


“Oh, shit. They’ve done something to me. Should have known it. Did lots of bad things,” he muttered as he huddled on his haunches and rocked gently to and fro. Why was it so fucking cold? It had to be seriously cold for a vampire to be affected by it. He yelled a few times and then gave up. It’s not like they don’t know I’m in here.


Spike reckoned that he must have been in that freezing hole for forty-eight hours before he saw any change. The temperature began to rise. He smiled and lay flat out on the tiles as they warmed up. His genitals remained completely numb. After an hour of warmth, Spike began to worry. It was getting hotter. Much, much hotter. He huddled back on to his haunches so that only his feet were in contact with any of the tiles. He began to pant in an effort to cool down, as the heat got so intense his feet began to blister.


Spike was almost delirious with the heat and lack of food when another change took place. His blistered feet were soothed as liquid began to seep in from an unseen inlet. Within an hour the water was over his head height, and he was treading water to keep his face above it. It clearly wasn’t just water – it had an oily quality to it. Spike managed to stay afloat for a couple of hours before exhaustion made him sink to the bottom, lungs filling with the fluid, as was every orifice. He didn’t need to breath but that didn’t mean that he wanted to sit in a tank of liquid, feeling heavy and strange with his respiratory system full of the stuff. He passed out.


The technicians hoisted the limp body of Spike out of the tank. They worked on him, pumping out the fluid and hosing him down. The blisters on his feet were dressed, and an infusion of blood direct in to the vein would ensure that they healed overnight. He was taken to his new quarters and locked in.


Spike shifted restlessly on the bed and then turned sideways as he was woken by several hacking coughs. Once the coughing had passed, he opened his eyes and looked around him. He was in his work room. Must have fallen asleep. Thank God it was all a dream! He glanced up at the clock above the door and frowned. It wasn’t there? Where had it gone? He ran a hand over his head and leapt off the bed as he felt his bald scalp. He looked down. His pubic hair was gone but he sobbed in relief when he touched his genitals as they were no longer numb, in fact they were a bit sore.


“What the hell is going on?” he muttered.


Spike decided to take a look around. He opened the closet and sure enough, it was full of his clothes. He scowled as he saw the poncey shoes and then did a double take as there, beside them in the bottom of it, was a pair of black lace up boots. He heard a knock at the door and spun around, guiltily shutting the closet for fear of being punished for looking at things that he shouldn’t.


He stared at the door and then looked for the door that led to the O.R. It wasn’t there! The knock on the door was repeated – this time with more volume. Spike stared at it stupidly and then pulling a sheet from the bed, he quietly called out.


“Er…come in.”


The door opened and in walked the vision of beauty that had got him in whatever mess he was now.


“Oh, no!” she exclaimed. “I told them to leave the hair! I liked the hair!”


She stamped her foot in temper. Spike took a step back. He didn’t know what was going on, but he wanted to remember her as she was when they made love and not like this with her eyes flashing with anger.


“Sorry, Spike,” she said softly. “It’s just that I did specifically tell them to leave it alone.


She walked towards him, smiling sweetly; he could smell her peppermint breath as she went up on tip toe and rubbed her hand over his scalp.


“It’ll grow back, soon enough.” She kissed his cheek before taking his hand in hers. “So how do you like it?”


“Like what?” said Spike, finally finding his tongue.


She looked at him in horror. “Didn’t they tell you?” He shook his head. “The bastards!” Spike met her eyes, afraid of what she was going to say next. She kissed him and squeezed his hand. “You’re mine.”


His eyes widened. “Y…yours?” His mind was reeling.


“Yes. You had to be quarantined and disinfected after leaving the facility, but here you are.” She waved her arm around the room.


“But…but it’s where I was,” replied Spike totally bewildered.


The girl giggled, that lovely sound. “I just thought the room was so over the top that it was funny, so I bought that too. Well the interior of it anyway. But the rest of the house is normal. I’ve had blinds fitted, but you’ll have to be careful of the sunlight upstairs. This is the basement.”


“Posh basement,” said Spike with a smile as things were finally sinking in.


“You won’t be able to leave the perimeter of the house and garden, but within it’s boundaries you’re free.” She glanced at his left ankle as she spoke and Spike looked down and saw a band around it. “It incapacitates you and sends a signal to The Initiative’s disposal team,” she explained. “They wouldn’t agree to the sale without it.”


“So you bought me?” said Spike. “What for?”


She winked at him. “Why do you think?”


A grin spread slowly across his face. “Really?” he said.


“Yeah.”


Spike dropped the sheet revealing that his tackle was in fine working order. He walked towards her, reaching out to her and pulling her in to his arms. He bent his head and kissed her as if his very unlife depended on it.


“So you don’t think that you’ll mind having to work for me?” she asked cheekily, slipping out of his embrace.


“I don’t think so,” said Spike, feigning coolness. “As long as I don’t have to wear those sodding slip on shoes.”


The girl laughed. “I didn’t think they were really ‘you’! Did you see the boots?”


“Yes, they’re fine.”


She turned to leave the room. “I’ll leave you to rest for a while, you must be exhausted.”


“Hey, I don’t know your name!”


She looked over her shoulder at him. “It’s Buffy.”


“Well, Buffy, I just want you to know that I’m not feeling very tired.”


Buffy turned back around and found herself scooped up and carried to the bed. “I’m going to work so hard for you that in a few hours we’ll both fall asleep on this ridiculous bed. I always wanted to get to sleep on the sodding thing.”


Buffy giggled and Spike began to undress her.


You’ve got yourself a good job, Spike.


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