Adult-FanFiction.org : Buffy

Violently Happy	By : marksandspence Category: BtVS Crossovers > Misc - Het - Male/Female Views: 3216 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Part1a
- 2-Part1b
- 3-Part1c
- 4-Part1d
- 5-Part1e
- 6-Part2a
- 7-Part2b
- 8-Part3a
- 9-Part3b
- 10-Part3c
- 11-Part4a
- 12-Part4b
- 13-Part4c
- 14-Part4d
- 15-Part5a
- 16-Part5b
- 17-Part5c
- 18-Part5d
- 19-Part5e
- 20-Part5f
- 21-Part5g
- 22-Part5h
- 23-Part6a
- 24-Part6b
- 25-Part6c
- 26-Part6d
- 27-Part6e
- 28-p.s. Flight of Fancy
- 3
- 4
- 5
Scene 10
Later that night at the Bronze. Spike and Buffy walk in, both scanning the crowd.
Buffy: [skeptical] “He wanted to meet you here?—this informant guy?”
Spike: [irritated] “Like I told you the last time you asked, yes, he said he’d come by a bit later.”
Buffy: “So do we even have a ballpark time to work with?”
Spike: “Probably doesn’t own a watch—exact time not high on the priority list for most demons I know.”
Buffy: “I just don’t get why he’d want to meet here. Isn’t it a little out-in-the-open-y for a ‘whatever’-demon?
Spike: [increasingly annoyed at her obvious skepticism] “I don’t know, maybe he likes the band. We don’t all prefer the sewer you know. I, for one, quite fancy a beer.”
Buffy: “And you’re sure he’s got something about tonight’s happenings?”
Spike: “s’what he said. Listen, slayer, I don’t know what your problem is. If you’re so bothered to be here, you can just bugger off home and I’ll wait—of course, this is, technically YOUR job—saving Sunnydale from the weekly doom. I might not be in such a rush.”
Buffy: [resigned] “OK, ok. [looking around] So what does this guy/thing look like?”
Spike: “Changes all the time. I’ll have to spot him.”
Buffy: “What, so he’s like a shape-shifter or something?”
Spike: “Nah, just has a thing for disguises. Probably wants to give ‘human’ a go, hence the choice of venue. Why don’t you grab that table over there—it’s got a good view of the place. [He starts walking towards the bar] Do you want anything?”
She just scowls at him. She’s worried that he has contrived this situation to prolong their evening together, because, OF COURSE, it’s all about HER. He shrugs it off and orders. She sits down at the bar table. As Spike returns with his beer, she’s ordering something from a waitress.
Spike: “Decided to join me in a drink after all?”
Buffy: “It’s fruit juice” [He makes a disgusted face]
They’re both scanning opposite ends of the bar as they sit there. Suddenly Buffy appears to see something. She squints her eyes.
Buffy: “Is that Miranda over there?”
Spike turns to look. They see Miranda with a man they don’t recognize sitting at a booth across the room. Spike turns back around with a slightly confused, considering look.
Buffy: [offhandedly] “I wonder if that’s the guy [she squints her eyes again, trying to get a better look at him. Spike turns to look again] Don’t look!”
Spike: “What guy?”
Buffy: “Oh, there’s just been this guy that she’s been seeing all week—She hasn’t actually said much—guess she’s not much of a kiss-and-tell type—,but it’s obvious that she likes him. She was practically beaming when I picked her up today.”
Spike: [small smirk/smile] “Is that right? And you think that might be him she’s with now?”
Buffy: [sort of talking to herself, i.e., not really looking at Spike] “I kinda thought he’d be younger...and a bit better looking. She’s just so together, you know? Like she has this air of confidence or something all the time. I’d think it would take a lot to make an impression—[looking back to where Miranda is sitting] there must be something...”
Spike: [snarky] “Maybe he’s a rocket scientist.”
Buffy: [finally noticing him and misinterpreting his look & comment as jealousy] “Oh, you’re not taking that Valentine’s thing too seriously, are you? [perhaps a bit of condescending concern] I mean, we all know how you get about things like that.”
Spike: [This is too good. He has to play around a bit] “And how is it that I "get", exactly?”
Buffy: “You know, all obsess-y. I just think she probably goes out with a lot of guys—you shouldn’t—you know—take it too seriously.”
Spike is just about to respond, when Buffy notices something after glancing back to Miranda’s booth.
Buffy: “Ooh. Or maybe not. Some serious body language going on over there—and definitely not of the ‘I’m-so-into-you’ kind. Ooh. From the look of things, she’s pretty PO’d, but trying to be polite. [pause] I think she’s seen me. And she’s giving the ‘save me’ signal. I think I should go over.”
Spike: “The ‘save me’ signal??”
Buffy: “All women understand the ‘bad date-save me’ signals. It’s universal.”
They both get up and head over. When they are a few steps away, Buffy pretends she’s surprised to see Miranda.
Buffy: [fake shock] “Miranda, hi. I thought that was you.”
Miranda: “What a lovely surprise. Claude, I’d like you to meet some friends of mine—Buffy and Spike. Why don’t you join us?” [Claude gives a rather uninterested nod acknowledging the introduction.]
Claude: [serious] “I should be going. [He gets up, putting on his coat. He says to Miranda] Give it some thought. I think you’ll find that it’s not so very different from what you’ve done before. I’ll expect your call.” [He leaves, paying absolutely no attention to B & S standing there.]
Miranda: [with a very forced smile] “Certainly.”
Buffy and Spike slide into the booth, where Claude was, across from Miranda. The minute he is out of site, Miranda lets down her guard and immediately appears agitated.
Miranda: [under her breath] “I’ll tell you what else to expect—a swift kick in the arse. Bloody self-important BASTARD. [pause] WANKER!" [looking more and more angry]
Spike: “Don’t mince your words.”
Buffy: “Yeah, tell us how you really feel.”
Miranda flags the waitress. She orders a double gin martini; Spike orders another beer.
Miranda: “Un-fucking believable. [to Buffy] Pardon the language—too angry to censor. BASTARD.”
The drinks arrive; Miranda downs hers.
Buffy: “So do we have to guess? What was that all about?”
Miranda: “I could really use a cigarette right now—bloody California. Sorry. I’m not in the mood to go into great detail. Basically, Immortal men: bastards, all of ‘em. [realizing] I mean, my kind of Immortal [glance to Spike]. Still living in the effing Dark Ages—give new meaning to the term ‘old boys club’. They think Immortal women are simply toys for their amusement—that we have to do whatever they want just to stay alive. It’s always the same—some worse than others, of course. I’d been warned about Claude and his friends—I just didn’t think he’d be so BLATANT about it. You know what he did? [Motions to whisper in Buffy’s ear. She leans forward. Miranda sits back after telling her.]
Buffy: “He did NOT? That’s disgusting.”
Miranda: “Bastard”
Buffy: “So he threatened you?”
Miranda: “Pretty much.”
Buffy: “And he wanted..?? [the look on Miranda’s face says it all] Oh.”
Miranda: “I believe the exact words of the ‘offer’ went something like: [attempting to mimic his smarmy voice] “It doesn’t have to interfere with your life, Miranda. You could come up and pay us a visit every month or so for a weekend. Sean has a lovely beach-house. Is that really so much to ask? I think you’ll find it refreshing to be with your own kind. It does get lonely sometimes.” [She rolls her eyes and shudders, then takes another long sip from her refreshed drink.]
Spike: “So why the act just now? You should’ve kicked his ass like the others.”
Buffy: “For once, I think I agree with Spike.”
Miranda: “It’s actually more of a ‘they’, as in ‘their asses’. Plus it’s complicated.”
Buffy: “There’s got to be something you can do, right? They can’t get away with that sort of thing now”
Miranda: [sarcastic] “Yeah, I don’t believe that there is a sexual harassment training video for Immortals [She laughs a bit at the idea of it]. Of course, this is America—surely there is someone to sue. I’ll consult one of my watchers as to the proper course of action.”
Buffy: “Watchers?”
Miranda: “Oh, right, that’s what you call Giles—your Watcher. We’ve got Watchers, too, but they’re not nearly so helpful. They simply WATCH and record what we do—like professional stalkers. See that kinda nerdy guy over there in the corner...with the glasses and the laptop? I think that’s one of mine. He’s always around.”
Buffy: “You have more than one?”
Miranda: “I’ve never been too clear on the issue, but presumably since they’re human, there would have to be a sequence of them. I’ve never even spoken to one. No matter. Don’t think they’ve seen the video anyway.”
Spike: [to Buffy] “Our informant just walked in. [to Miranda] Why don’t you wait while we talk to this bloke—I could walk you home. You know, in case The Wanker is a bit anxious for a response.”
Buffy: “Oh, like you’d be a big help. I’ll go.”
[Author’s note: I figure that at this point, everyone assumes that Spike’s chip would work for Miranda and her kind, simply because she appears totally human (i.e., her heart beats), hence the previous comment.]
Miranda: “No, it’s all right. Claude may have detected my lack of enthusiasm, but I doubt he’d make a direct move on his threat tonight—besides, if he did, I’d have to fight him alone anyway. And even if he’s simply lurking, I’d rather he didn’t see us leave together—another infamous tactic of persuasion is to go after friends and family. I know you two can take care of yourselves, but I’d just assume not give him anything.”
Spike looks frustrated at not being able to help AND not being able to walk Miranda home. Still, they need to talk to this guy and he figures he’ll be able to catch her later, so he and Buffy head off. Miranda finishes her drink and leaves, still looking angry.
Skip ahead a bit. Spike and Buffy have already talked to the informant and Buffy heads off to consult with Giles. Spike leaves the Bronze and starts walking in the direction of Miranda’s place. As he passes a nearby alley, he stops at the sound of breaking glass and decides to investigate. There in the back of the alley is Miranda, using her sword to bat beer bottles into a brick wall—she’s made quite a pile of broken glass. Before she sees Spike, she picks up one more bottle and tosses it in the air. This one breaks when her sword hits it, sort of above her head—it still had some beer in it, and so she is splattered a bit. She kicks the wall in frustration.
Spike: “I’m not sure exactly what you’re trying to do, but I don’t think that wall is going to give up without a fight.”
Miranda: “I just wanted to break something and this was all I could find. Not very satisfying, beer bottles—I’d like something bigger—and less smelly.”
Spike: “I think you may have cut yourself on that last one—your hand’s bleeding.”
Miranda: “No, that would be when I punched the wall a bit earlier. Believe it or not, I’ve mellowed a bit since then. Bloody BASTARDS.”
Spike: “I still don’t see why you don’t just fight him—you can’t tell me you wouldn’t want to smash his head like you’ve been smashing those bottles. Is it some sort of political thing?”
Miranda: “Bloody well right, I’d like kick him where it counts—tell him what he can do with his bloody beach house. I’d like to tell him to go fuck himself, but I can’t. And yes, I would like to fight him, but I won’t. [resigned] I won’t because I can’t beat him.”
Spike: [incredulous] “What are you talking about? You handle a sword better than anyone I’ve seen. Of course you can beat him.”
Miranda: [annoyed, she lashes out] “Listen, Spike, I know you’re trying to help but you’ve known me all of about 5 minutes in Immortal time—there are things you simply don’t understand, right.”
Spike: “Are you afraid?”
Miranda: “Afraid to die, yeah. I’m not ready yet. I told you, I can’t beat him.”
Spike: “You said you were out of shape—you could work on that. I could help.”
Miranda: [exasperated] “It’s not about skill. Who wins a battle between Immortals has more to do with age and experience than with skill—with age and battle comes power. Those two I fought recently—they were like me. THAT was about skill. But Claude and his cronies—they’ve got 500 years minimum on me, and lord knows how many battles. Even if I were at the top of my game I might, with a bit of luck and a good night get the best of Claude. But after that, I could never take on the rest.”
Spike: “I thought you lot had rules about that”
Miranda: “As long as each battle is one-on-one, the rules don’t apply. Don’t you see, I CAN'T win. [to herself] God, what made me think I could pull this off? Woulda done better to avoid all this and keep moving instead of trying to settle down.”
Spike: “Keep running, you mean? So what, you’re going to skip off, then? Run away?”
Miranda: “Maybe. What choice do I have? I’m not going to be their little weekend toy; I can’t fight them.”
Spike: “Listen to yourself—enough with the self-pity, already. If you want something, you fight for it—you find a way. Sounds like you’re afraid and maybe not just of the Wankers up north. Besides, you can’t leave now—you’re the only interesting person in this town at the moment.”
Miranda: [A bit pouty. She knows he’s right about the fear] “Who died and made you Mr. insightful? Oh, right, you did.”
Spike: “So what are you going to do, then?”
Miranda: [considering] “Well, I’ve got gobs of money. Maybe I could buy them off. No, that won’t work, they’ve got gobs, too. Maybe I could pay someone else to show them a good time—like a call girl or something.”
Spike: “Doubt you’d find someone comparable.”
Miranda: “You’re right—it’s not really about the sex, is it? It’s the domination/power thing—probably wouldn’t get their rocks off in the same way with someone who was paid. [Suddenly interpreting what Spike said a different way and smiling] Or wasn’t that what you meant? Did you just pay me a compliment?”
Spike: [smiling back] “Maybe. Could you blackmail them or something? Or take away their money somehow so they WOULD need it.”
Miranda: [she’s pacing now, considering] “That’s good. Very devious—I like it. Hm, I’ll have to...[She stops and looks directly at Spike] How did you do that?”
Spike: “Do what?”
Miranda: “Five minutes ago, I was so angry and upset, I could have exploded with rage—ready to leave town or worse—and now I feel Ok—almost optimistic about things. How did you do that? You de-fused me. Like a bomb or something. And that’s no easy task—I’ve got a wicked temper.”
Spike: [shrugs] “I’ve seen worse.”
Miranda: “I’ll bet you have. I still have a bit of a desire to break things, but now just for the fun of it.”
Spike: “Now you’re talking—I know where we can find some BIG breakables. You want to take a look?”
Miranda: “As long as it’s not actually illegal. If I’m going to stick around, it wouldn’t be a good idea to have a police record.”
Spike: “Legality’s in the eye of the beholder, innit?”
They head off. Spike takes them to what looks like a small junkyard for electronic devices. They end up carrying a couple of Televisions and a microwave up to the roof of a building and dropping them off into an alley below. After they toss the last one off, they stand looking over the railing.
Spike: “Better?”
Miranda: “Yeah—that was brilliant. Fantastic idea of yours. I only wish we had a guitar. I’ve always wanted to smash a guitar.”
Spike: “Next time. [pause] So you want to come back to my place?”
Miranda: “No.”
Spike: [surprised & joking] “No? Well, then, I take back the ‘most interesting person in Sunnydale’ comment”
Miranda: “This was fun. But I’m tired. And there’s still a bit of residual man-hating anger that I should probably work out. You want to do something tomorrow?”
Spike: “Maybe. Not sure we can top the exploding cathode-ray tube on that last TV set...”
Miranda: “Do you know much about music? [beat] Rock music?
Spike: “a bit.”
Miranda: “Meet me at the record shop on mainstreet tomorrow at 8? I could use some help picking out some CD’s.”
Spike: “Ok. [pause] Don’t I at least get a kiss?”
Miranda: “No.”
Spike: “Again, with the ‘No’. You’re walking on thin ice now with the ‘comparable’ compliment.”
Miranda: “If I kiss you, I’ll go home with you and I’m tired—plus we wouldn’t want the residual man-hating anger to pop up at any crucial moments.”
Spike: [a bit more serious] “So if you decide to skip town—you swing by my place first?”
Miranda: “I’m not going to skip town. We have a date, right? I don’t stand people up—it’s a matter of principle”
Spike: “Tomorrow, then”
End scene.
Scene 11
The next day, in front of the record shop. Miranda is leaning against a wall outside the shop, intently looking over a piece of paper. Spike saunters up, stopping just in front of her.
Spike: “Is it safe now?”
Miranda: [Smiling and letting her hand carrying the paper drop to her side] “Reasonably.”
At this, he immediately steps closer and leans in for a kiss. It’s short, but intense. She feels her knees go a bit weak—why are they here again? Oh, right. Music.
Miranda: “hmmm. Hello. So you ready to help me pick out some music?”
Spike: “What’s this all about, then?”
They talk as they walk into the shop.
Miranda: “I’ve decided that I sort of missed the whole rock music thing. I mean, I was around, but not paying attention. There was this program on cable the other day—something about a hall-of-fame for rock musicians—I took notes (indicating her piece of paper). Anyway, I bought a hi-fi this afternoon—I don’t think the guy at the shop could BELIEVE his luck. Apparently women don’t tend to invest much in hi-fi equipment. So I bought the best one they had and here we are now to get some music. I’d like to focus on the last 30 years or so, but I really have no idea.”
Spike: “You’re serious? [pause] Let’s have a look at your notes, then.” [grabbing the piece of paper]
Miranda: [explaining] “There’s a list of inductees that sounded even remotely interesting—they played about 20 seconds of music for each—and then a little star by the ones that I liked the best.”
Spike: “Very methodical.” [He scans the paper and then quickly tosses it in the trash.]
Miranda: [annoyed] “What did you do that for?”
Spike: “First thing—you’re going about this the wrong way—rock music is not methodical. I’ll pick you out some things to start with.”
Miranda: [skeptical] “I don’t want all the same kind—I want to hear everything.”
Spike: “Trust me. I know something about this.”
They spend the next hour or two picking out music—listening to some of it in the store. It’s fun. She’s surprised at how much he knows, considering he’s a vampire and all. They leave with a bag full of Cds and head back to her place. Once they arrive, she orders some food, opens a bottle of wine and they get to work hooking up the hi-fi, which was still in a box. They only get so far, when they realize that the speakers haven’t been delivered yet—so no music tonight. She sits on the couch with her glass of wine. Spike is over at the kitchen counter pouring himself a glass and looking over her purchases.
Miranda: “So do you have a hi-fi set up in your crypt?”
Spike: “Not at the moment. I cobbled something together from a few bits and pieces, but the way I have to steal electricity makes the flow irregular. It’s fine for a TV and the occasional light, but not ideal for a decent hi-fi. [Picking up a CD] I can’t believe I let you talk me into letting you buy Fleetwood Mac.”
Miranda: [defensive] “It came highly recommended. And I can be very persuasive.”
Spike: [smiling] “That, I’m sure of.”
Pause; change of subject
Miranda: “So tell me more about this chip of yours.”
Spike: “I think you’ve probably gotten the gist of it. Gives me a nasty headache any time I try to hurt a human—don’t know what would actually happen if I made it through the first wave of pain and actually succeeded. Beyond that, I can’t tell you much.”
Miranda: “Sounds a bit of nasty piece of work. I can see their motivation for preventing you from killing loads of people, but it seems a rather ruthless side effect that you can’t even defend yourself.”
Spike: “Don’t think they were too concerned for my ultimate well-being.”
Miranda: “What about intent? Does that make a difference? Buffy told me about those places that people go, who get a high off of getting bitten—have you tried that?”
Spike: “No good. The chip still fires.”
Miranda: “Do you have any idea what it cues in on? How it knows what’s human and what’s not?”
Spike: “No. Why so curious all of a sudden?”
Miranda: “I was just thinking that technically, I’m not human. Last time I looked into it, which admittedly was many years ago, there wasn’t a medical test available that would indicate that I’m not human—but here I am. I wonder if the chip would know.”
Spike: [confused about where she’s going with this] “You’re not worried that I’d try to hurt you? ‘Cause then you’d be sounding like one of the scoobies—I don’t always want to hurt everybody. [adding with a little smile] Especially not if there’s the potential for regular sex.”
Miranda: “Oh, not that. I’m not thinking that you’d beat me up or something. I was just thinking about...the other thing.”
Spike: [still confused] “So what, you’re worried that I’d try to bite you?”
Miranda: “You’re the one who keeps putting the ‘worried’ in there. I’m just wondering if you could if I were to LET you.”
A look crosses Spike’s face as he gets it—could she really be suggesting what it sounds like she’s suggesting? He’s about to ask, when the doorbell rings.
Miranda: “Thank goodness, I’m starving.”
She goes to the door, pays the deliveryman and brings the pizza inside. She puts it on the coffee table and takes a slice as she sits back down on the couch. Spike is obviously distracted by his thoughts, which are racing, but he waits for her to finishing chewing.
Spike: “So about this biting thing...”
Miranda: “Keep your knickers on. We’re still in the world of the hypothetical.”
Spike: “And what would we be hypothetically discussing, exactly?”
Miranda: “The prospect of my letting you bite me.”
She reaches for another slice of pizza.
Spike: “And there it is. [beat] Did I mention that you continually surprise me, Miranda—every time I see you, there’s something new.”
Miranda: [casually, as if thinking out loud] “Of course it couldn’t really be a food kind of thing because that just seems...I don’t know, parasitic or something. No, it would definitely have to be a sensual/sexual kind of thing—at least that’s how I would see it. You know, more like kinky sex than a midnight snack. What do you think?”
Spike: “Sounds workable.”
Miranda: “How much control do you have?”
Spike: “What do you mean?”
Miranda: “In terms of how much you take.”
Spike: “Uh, pretty good control—to make someone a vampire, you have to stop at a very particular point.”
Miranda: “Hm. We’re still just talking, right. But I wonder if it would be like giving a drink to an alcoholic—maybe it would make you more miserable—like starting over just when you’ve gotten used to the idea of never biting again. And I might not like it—I’m not particularly into pain.”
As they discuss, it turns into almost a negotiation. Miranda is playing it very cool and casual. The arousal and excitement on Spike’s face is more and more evident.
Spike: [soft, sexy voice] “Oh, but I could be gentle.”
His tone of voice makes her temporarily loose her ‘cool’ demeanor and she momentarily stops breathing.
Miranda: [snapping out of it] “So maybe I agree in principle—I do heal quickly. But I might not taste the same—perhaps you wouldn’t like it.”
Spike: “Everything so far has tasted good. I guess we won’t know ‘till we try.”
Miranda: “And what’s the worst that could happen, really? Either the chip fails and you get a migraine resulting in our night being ruined or the chip doesn’t work, you lose control and take too much resulting in me kicking your ass when I wake up tomorrow and never letting you near my neck again.”
Spike: “That about covers it—doesn’t seem such a bad risk.”
Miranda: “But in case it doesn’t all go horribly wrong, I think it would be wise to set some rules—and given that you’re the one with the teeth, I should be the one to make them.”
Spike: “s’reasonable. What did you have in mind?”
Miranda: [considering] “I decide if and when—no biting without asking first. With regards to timing...I think I should have my ‘fun’ first—you know, endorphins and such. I think it would hurt less.”
Spike: [He laughs a bit at this] “And of course if I get a migraine, you’ve still had your fun.”
Miranda: “That, too. I never claimed to be unselfish.”
Spike: “Anything else?”
Miranda: [a bit more serious] “You stop if I ask you to.”
Spike: “Done” [He leans forward to kiss her. Just as things start to heat up, she pulls away.]
Miranda: “Wait. One more thing. I want to see it. I don’t want to be surprised—you know—at the moment.”
Spike changes into his ‘game face’. She’s startled for just a fraction of a second—an almost imperceptible intake of breath. She then looks at him for a moment—moves her hand over his face gently.
Miranda: “Ok” [She whispers]
He changes back and they start kissing again. After a few minutes on the couch, he lifts her up and carries her into the bedroom. They’re a bit more deliberate this time—not so rushed/frantic like before. They kiss, deeply. They lay down and with their legs intertwined, push themselves into each other, each caressing the other’s still clothed body. As their movement gets more passionate, they pull at each other’s clothes. She pulls his t-shirt over his head—they stop kissing just long enough to extract the shirt. Not wanting to pull away from her, he rips open her shirt instead and then lifts up her back just enough to pull it off behind her. He runs his hand around the back of her bra, looking for the clasp—it’s not there and he discovers it in front and easily snaps it open.
Spike: “I like these front-closing ones; such easy access."
He takes a breast in each hand and massages them until her nipples are both hard. He pulls back a minute and admires them before taking one in his mouth. She gasps.
Miranda: “I forget that your mouth isn’t hot—it’s so much more penetrating this way."
He breaks away and pulls down her pants, leaving her panties on. Still kneeling on the bed after taking her pants completely off, he strokes the front of her panties with his hand, just letting his thumb reach underneath. She arches her back at this and inhales deeply.
Spike: “ooh, ready to go already? Have you been thinking naughty thoughts?”
Just then she sits up, and moves her hands over the top of his pants, feeling his hardness. He closes his eyes as she does this. After a minute, he gently pushes her back down and pulls off her panties. He leans in between her legs and gives her a long, deliberate lick.
Spike: “See, you taste just right to me—sweet.”
He starts to move back in to taste some more, when she stops him.
Miranda: “No, this time I want you inside me—I want you to feel it.”
He pushes off the bed and standing, quickly takes off his pants. She admires his erection—it looks enormous next to his beautifully slender waist and hips. He enjoys her admiring look and stands there a moment, running his hand along the length of his cock. Off her longing look, he smirks and dives on the bed, crawling directly on top of her. He pauses just as he’s pressed himself between her inner lips, so that his tip is perched at her opening. Looking straight into her eyes, he enters her slowly. She closes her eyes with pleasure as he begins moving rhythmically. Her breathing quickens as he picks up the pace a bit.
She whispers “I can feel you inside me...I can feel the coldness—the difference”.
She shifts her pelvis, pulling her legs up and around his torso. He takes one leg, straightens it and pushes it slightly to the side. She sqeals with pleasure as now he’s sliding across a more sensitive area.
Miranda: “Oh jesus. Faster.”
Spike: “Whatever you want, love.”
and he starts thrusting with more speed and vigor. She’s groaning—he’s just big enough to cause a bit of pain as he gets his hardest and she loves it. She doesn’t hold back for long—she’s curious about what’s to come next. He puts her leg on his shoulder and with his now free hand, uses his thumb to intensify her pleasure by pressing on her clit. Soon she’s bucking, grabbing and pulling him harder into her as she moans with delight.
Spike: [a bit taken by surprise by the internal force of her orgasm] “Oh god, I can feel you pulling at me, squeezing me. I think I’m going to have to have my fun, too.”
And with that, he thrusts vigorously a few more times, letting go and coming with a snarl and a grunt. They lay there for a moment, both caught up in the intensity of the feeling. He kisses her face as he pulls himself out.
Spike: “I had planned on waiting until after, but, uh, that was too good."
Miranda: “Probably for the best, right?—likelihood of a migraine and all.” [She looks straight into his eyes] “It’s ok—whenever now.”
A look of deep longing comes over his face. He moves his hand down her neck as he looks on intently—searching for just the right spot. Her heart starts to race in anticipation—she’s a bit afraid. He finds it and leaves his fingers there as he vamps out. He looks back at her face for a moment and says “you sure?”. She nods. With that, he moves in gently, first kissing her neck, then as gently as he is able, biting down. She inhales sharply as his teeth pierce her skin and she grabs hold of his shoulders tightly—she can hear him drinking. She tries not to cry out in pain, but a tear streams down her cheek. But it’s not simply pain—it’s more; indescribable, exquisite. After a moment, he pulls away, first kissing the wound softly, licking off the blood and then kissing upwards on her neck—by the time he reaches her lips, he’s back to his human face.
Spike: [softly] “you OK?”
Miranda: [a bit breathless] “Yeah. [feeling something and smiling] and I guess we know where THAT lot went.”
Spike: “We may just be on to something.”
They start making love again. Miranda flips over to be on top. She straddles him and as she slowly rotates her hips, she sits up tall, biting her lower lip—you can see a small stream of blood flowing slowly from the bite mark on her neck. Just a few drops, as her Immortal body stops the bleeding quickly. Fuelled by the excitement (and the blood), they continue like this all night—enjoying each other over and over. Skip ahead a few hours. It’s morning. They’re both sitting up in the middle of the bed, facing each other, with arms and legs intertwined. Miranda’s legs are wrapped around Spike as she moves her hips every-so-slightly using her body to caress him gently inside her. They’re covered in what must be Miranda’s sweat and have a slightly sleepy/contented look. They’re kissing slowly, just enjoying the intimacy of the moment. Miranda pulls back for a moment and whispers “I don’t want it to end—it feels so right”. Spike kisses her again softly, then asks “Can I take a bit more?” She nods. He goes back to the same wound and re-opens it to take a few more mouthfuls—he’s now inside her in two places at once. The feeling of it is too intense to withstand and he releases into her one more time. After such a long night, it’s [the blood loss] just enough to make her weak and her grip on him loosens and she gently falls backwards. He moves with her and then uses the corner of the sheet with a bit of pressure to halt the bleeding. He rolls over onto his back and pulls her with him, so her head is resting on his chest. She’s a bit out-of-it, but manages to lift her head enough to say “William, would you do something for me before you go to sleep?”
Spike: [softly] “Anything, love.”
Miranda: “There’s a water bottle in the refrigerator—would you put it by the bed?”
He gets up and does as she asks (she’s asleep by the time he gets back), then returns to bed where they both fall fast asleep.
Skip ahead a few hours. It’s about 2pm. The phone rings. After the third ring, Miranda finally stirs, but Spike is dead to the world. She answers it. It’s Giles, asking her to bring a book he’d lent her when she comes by to work on the translation today. CRAP. Scoobie meeting at Buffy’s house. Some old prophesy in need of decryption that she had promised to help out on TODAY. And she’s already late CRAP! She stumbles out of bed, greedily drinking the bottle of water. She begins to get dressed and starts frantically looking through her closet for something. Miranda: “Thank god I let Buffy talk me into that dreadful turtle-neck number the other day." She finishes getting ready, not terribly steady on her feet. Spike is sleeping so soundly, she decides not to try to wake him. She leaves him a note, telling him where she’s gone.
[Author’s note: I left something out of an earlier scene that I am now too lazy to go back and put in. It’s rather relevant for the next scene, so I’m just going to tell you. At some point Miranda asks Spike to keep their level of PDA’s (public displays of affection) to a minimum when they’re around Giles—she tells him about Giles’ crush and that he’s her friend and she doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable. So for the time being, she asks that they don’t advertise their relationship when he’s around [she doesn’t care about the rest of the scoobies]. After some protestation, Spike agrees to try to not molest her in front of Giles.]
**
That afternoon (~3pm) at Buffy’s house.
[Author’s note: I can’t explain why I thought they’d be meeting at Buffy’s house. It doesn’t make much sense now, but at the time, that’s where it was set and so I’m just going to leave it there.]
Everyone’s there, pouring over books, or at least pretending to. Dawn is doing homework and listening to a CD with headphones. Miranda arrives, looking a bit rough/disheveled.
Miranda: “Good morning, everyone.”
Giles: “It’s three o’clock in the afternoon.”
Miranda: “Is it REALLY? Good lord, where does the time go?”
Buffy: “That has GOT to be the biggest bottle of Gatorade I have EVER SEEN.”
Miranda: “It’s important to stay hydrated—everyone take note.”
Miranda sets up her laptop and starts opening some files.
Miranda: “Anyone making tea?”
Giles: “I think the kettle’s still hot; I could use another cup myself—I’ll whip up a couple of mugs. Anyone else?”
Giles leaves. Buffy walks over and sits down across from Miranda.
Buffy: [girlie-talk voice] “You smell like a boy. Is that cologne?”
Miranda: “Don’t be silly. Must be my new deodorant—I’m never sure which ones to buy nowadays.”
Anya walks over and takes a sniff.
Anya: “Mmm. That’s nice. I do love the ‘man’ smell. Mixed with a bit of sweat after a day at the construction site, I'm happy to skip the foreplay altogether. Ask Xander.”
Buffy: [ignoring Anya, except for a slight frown, she turns back to Miranda] “And I thought you didn’t LIKE turtle-necks.”
Miranda: “Well, you know, after you going on and on about fashion, blah blah blah, I thought I’d give ‘em another chance.”
Buffy: “You know what I think? I think you were with that guy again last night and you’re wearing THAT to cover up a hickey. Am I right?”
Miranda: “What an ugly word—hickey. We call them love bites in England.”
Giles walks back in.
Buffy: [to Miranda] “We’ll talk later”
They all get to work. After multiple embarrassing stomach growls from Miranda, they agree to order some food. She wolfs down a GIANT spinach salad and finishes her multiple gallons of Gatorade. Periodically, she folds her arms on the table resting her head on them, trying to be inconspicuous when she takes in a deep sniff—she can smell him on her still. A few hours go by. Finally, it gets dark. As soon as it does, Miranda’s energy level starts to increase.
Dawn: “I don’t get it. You’ve gulped down more Gatorade than anyone I’ve ever seen and yet you haven’t gone to the bathroom once. Where does all the liquid go?”
Buffy: “Dawn!”
Miranda: “I guess I was a bit dehydrated.”
Soon there’s a knock at the door. Spike pops his head in. He strolls into the room where everyone is, disappointed to see Giles showing Miranda something from a book.
Spike: [mock surprise] “What, a big meeting of the scoobie minds and I wasn’t invited? What’s the doom of the moment, then? [thinking of something] So did you used to have meetings like this about me back in the day?”
Willow: “Never.”
Giles: [to Spike] “It’s actually good that you’re here. I’d like you to go with Buffy tonight to check out these caves just outside of town—you’ll be looking for this [shows him a bunch of symbols from a book]. There’s likely to be XXXXXX-demons around and I know you're familiar with their language from previous DEALINGS that you've had with their sort. They might have some useful information for us.”
Spike: “Whatever you say, Alfred. You know me, always happy to help [dripping sarcasm]. [quick glance to Miranda] I mean, uh, yeah, sure, I’ll go.”
Giles: [to Buffy] Let me just make a copy of this before you go. Should only take me a few minutes.”
Buffy: “Really, no rush. Caves not high on my list of weekend must-goes.”
Spike walks over toward where Miranda is working. He passes by Anya on his way and when he does, she looks up, having noticed something.
Spike: “So did you get that thing I left for you?”
Miranda: “I did. Thanks.”
Spike: “I found something else you might be interested in.”
Miranda: “oh yeah?”
He moves closer and puts something on the table in front of her, just letting his finger touch her hand after he sets it down. She closes her eyes when his skin touches hers. The item is folded in a white cotton handkerchief. She unfolds it carefully to reveal her cross necklace. She must have forgotten to put it back on when she got dressed. She looks around quickly to see if anyone can see it (they can’t because it’s behind her laptop) and then she drops it into the pocket of her bag.
Miranda: [in case anyone is listening] “I think I might already have something like this. I’ll have a closer look when I get back to the shop.”
Spike: “Let me know. There’s more where that came from—maybe lots more.”
Once again, to anyone who is paying attention, this is a very loaded conversation. It’s rather obvious that they’re just speaking words to each other as an excuse to be close. This time, someone is watching them—Anya. She looks as if she’s about to burst—she starts to fidget. Xander asks her what’s wrong. Nothing, she says, but she looks as if she is desperately holding something back. After about 5 minutes, Giles goes into the kitchen for some reason.
Anya: [She can’t hold back any longer; to Spike and Miranda she bursts out, pointing at them] “You two had SEX last night. [turning to the rest of the room] They had SEX last night.”
Xander: “Yeah, right, in his dreams maybe.”
Anya: “No, Buffy, smell him. He smells like her.”
Buffy: “I am NOT going to...”
Anya: “Look at them—they’ve got ‘morning-after’ written all over them. Well, am I right?” [more proud of herself for figuring it out (and concerned if she’s right) than upset]
Everyone is now looking at them. Miranda is actually turning a bit red; she can’t hold back a smile. Dawn suddenly looks up from her books and notices that everyone is now looking at M & S. She turns off her walkman.
Tara: “Oh my god, it’s true, isn’t it?”
Dawn: [confused; frustrated that she missed something important] “What’s true?”
Spike: [defensive] “What? It’s not like it was the first time.”
Miranda busts out with a small laugh at this.
Miranda: “Spike, I really don’t think that response is what they were hoping for.”
Dawn: “First time for what?”
Buffy: [angry, to Spike] “Out. [pointing at the door] Spike, Out. Now. Wait for me outside.”
Spike looks over at Miranda; he can’t keep himself from grinning.
Miranda: “Go on. I’ll be out in a minute for a smoke.”
He leaves with a smug smile on his face.
Buffy: [as soon as he’s out the door] “What were you thinking? I thought you were dating someone—someone cool. [she cups her hands over Dawn’s ears] And then you just up and sleep with Spike” [She has not yet made the leap that Spike is ‘the guy’]
Miranda: “Uh, I think you might be a bit confused about things...”
Buffy: “You’re beaming again. Stop it! [to everyone] She’s beaming isn’t she?”
Tara: [looking closely at Miranda] “I might go with ‘glowing’, but beaming works.”
Buffy: [duh, getting it] “Oh my god. Spike’s 'the guy’”
Dawn: “Miranda’s dating Spike?”
She’s the only one who is not upset by the thought of that.
Xander: “I’m sure ‘dating’ is a bit of an overstatement. I mean, surely she’s just using him for...[noticing Dawn]...something.”
Miranda: “Xander!—what a dreadful thing to say. I don’t use people. [Smiling in the direction of Anya who is now sitting next to her at the table] Although there are some things that he has quite a talent for.” [And don’t call me Shirley. heh.]
Xander: “Well, Spike isn’t exactly ‘people’. I don’t think you get that yet.”
Anya: [ignoring Xander; to Miranda] “What things?”
Xander shoots her a disapproving look. In response:
Anya: “I’m just trying to understand WHAT she could’ve been thinking. [brief pause] So, uh, what things?”
At this, Miranda leans over and whispers in Anya’s ear. Anya looks surprised and a bit flustered.
Anya: “oh my.” [looking at Miranda, she “covertly” holds up 6 fingers with an inquisitive look. Miranda nods in response, then leans back over again and whispers something else. Anya picks up a piece of paper and starts using it like a fan.“ooh. My goodness me. [suddenly looking back at everyone else] Disgusting! Don’t’ know what she was thinking.” [still using the paper as a fan]
Dawn: [whining] “What things?”
Just then Giles comes back into the room, having conveniently missed all of this. He notices that they’ve all stopped talking.
Giles: “What’s going on? Did I miss something?”
Miranda: “Not really. I’m just going outside for a smoke”
She gets up and walks to the door. When she passes Buffy, Buffy grabs her arm and says “seriously, we need to talk about this. Lunch tomorrow?” Miranda: “ok, ok. Lunch” She walks out the front door. Dawn immediately moves over to the window, peeking out through the blinds—she has a clear view to where Spike is waiting by the tree. Buffy rolls her eyes at this, but Giles is already trying to show her something, so she doesn’t say anything.
Outside the house. Miranda walks over to where Spike is waiting. As soon as she is within reach, he lifts her up and rests her slightly against the tree as he kisses her (she’s higher than he is). After a passionate few seconds of kissing, he sets her down.
Spike: [looking over her face] “Last night was...incredible.”
Miranda: [smiles in agreement] “I’d go as far as unprecedented.”
Spike: “Buffy’s going to be out in a minute. Can I see you later?”
Miranda: [sighing, skeptical] “Listen, I’m exhausted. This week has been rather intense. I could use a bit of recovery time—[smiling in a guilty/naughty way] I’m sore in more places than one. I’m just going to head home, flip on the telly and flop on the couch until I fall asleep.”
Spike: [undeterred] “Sounds brilliant.”
Miranda: “I’m serious. There is zero possibility of sex or biting.”
Spike: [unphased] “I’ll come by after patrolling, then.”
She smiles and gives a nod in agreement. They hear Buffy coming out of the door. Spike thinks of something and reaches around the other side of the tree to get it—it’s a rather pathetic bunch of flowers that he obviously must have scrounged from gardens on his way over. He hands them to Miranda. She has a somewhat surprised look (pleasantly)—who’d have thought he’d be the type to give flowers??
Buffy: [from the sidewalk; annoyed, but resigned. She really doesn’t want to go on this fact-finding mission with Spike now] “Let’s go.”
Miranda walks back into the house, smelling the flowers. Spike leaves with Buffy.
[Author's note: I have toyed with the idea of inserting a scene here—what happens between Buffy and Spike that evening. Ultimately, I decided against it. I basically see Spike as being very down to business—noticeably so, as he is trying to get the task done so that he can go to Miranda’s place. This is really the fist time we see him more eager to spend time with Miranda than with Buffy. I also toyed with the idea of Buffy making some comment to the tune of asking Spike if he’s doing this to try to make her jealous and have him respond sarcastically “oh right, because there is NO OTHER POSSIBLE reason why I’d want to shag Miranda”. But you know, I just couldn’t get a scene to work, so that’s the end of it. I also see Miranda being very pleased with her ugly bunch of flowers as she walks back into the house—they look dreadful in the light, but they SMELL nice (night blooming flowers attract insects by their smell, not their colors).]
**
Miranda’s apartment later that night. She’s lying on the couch, eyes closed. The TV is on. We see the door handle turn (it’s locked). Spike, knowing that she’s probably asleep, jimmies the lock and comes in. As the door opens, Miranda stirs [she was half awake, listening for him]. He climbs onto the couch, moving in behind her so that they’re both laying down facing the TV. He whispers,
Spike: “What’s on?”
Miranda: “Nothing much.”
Spike: “So that was your blood you gave me before? [she nods] Why didn’t you tell me?”
Miranda: “Seemed a bit presumptuous for a first date—perhaps even creepy. [mocking] ‘Hi, pleased to meet you—here, have some of my bodily fluids’.”
Spike: “good point”
He reaches his arm under her shirt, first moving it up her back and then around as he nuzzles her neck.
Spike: [remembering something] “So what are those marks on your back? Tattoos?” [He’s referring to two fairly large shapes on the upper center of Miranda’s back that are shaped something like two apostrophes or parentheses facing in opposite directions.]
Miranda: [a twinge of excitement passes through her as she remembers when he would have had a clear view of her back the night before] “Sleeping now...no more questions.”
He starts to pull up her shirt to look at them again.
Miranda: [mock irritated] “Ok. Ok. They’re where my wings were attached.” [just as Spike starts to get a confused look on his face, a huge grin comes across her face and she starts to laugh] “oh, I can never pull that off. I don’t know actually—birthmarks I guess. My mother came up with the wing idea—she used to tell me that I must have been very very naughty and so God had taken my wings away and sent me down to Earth as punishment. But I was very lucky, you see, because most children never had wings at all and probably, if I were VERY VERY good, someday God would give them back to me and I could fly. I think she may have said ‘fly up to heaven’, but I only heard ‘fly’.”
Spike: “And so were you VERY VERY good?”
Miranda: “Oh, I tried. As a motivating tool, it worked quite well—mum was clever. I wanted to fly more than anything. I became fixated by the idea. Of course, I had trouble with the ‘VERY VERY good’ part. I always could think of SOMETHING that I’d done wrong. Still, when I was 8, I went a whole month without doing anything bad and I was SURE I’d get my wings. I checked every morning. No wings. Gave up on the ‘very very good’ bit after that—figured there must be more to it.”
Spike: “And the rest is history...” [she smiles]
Miranda: “Sleeping now.”
They both fall asleep soon after this. Sometime close to dawn, he gets up and starts to leave—decides not to wake her. Just as he’s about to walk out the door, he thinks of something. He grabs a bit of paper, scribbles on it and leaves it on the coffee table. It’s a map of the cemetery with his crypt marked.
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Violently Happy