Parody of Love

The main change in Buffy could be seen in her eyes. Eyes that had once danced with love and happiness, were now cold and hard.

Not much else had changed. She was still beautiful, with a natural grace that regularly turned the heads of the opposite sex. But the beauty stopped at her eyes. The guys with the courage to “check her out” would back right off when they stared into those cold and unfeeling eyes. Maybe something deep inside of them realised that her soul was gone, that she was nothing but a walking, talking empty shell of what she had once been.

Buffy’s soul had been taken by a vampire, but no puncture marks marred her perfect neck. The vampire who took her soul, had taken it with love.

Buffy was well aware that her soul was gone.....after all, she had been the one who had packed up the remnants of her soul and locked it away where it could never be hurt again. Somewhere deep in the recesses of Buffy’s mind was a windowless locked room, which held her soul tightly from ever regaining its hold on her.

At first it had been difficult.....occasionally Buffy would feel a “softening” towards some individual, but she quickly stomped out those unwanted feelings. Being “hard” became a habit and eventually a way of life......a way of life that she embraced whole heartedly. Being hard meant never letting anyone get close, and if no one was close to her, then no one, including her, could get hurt. Buffy figured it was a workable plan.

The Slayer pushed these thoughts from her mind, as she moved quietly along the darkened streets of LA. She made a stunning sight for those who caught a glimpse of her passage. Recently, she had taken to dressing completely in black, the color suited her mood and felt comfortable to her. Tonight she was dressed in a short black leather skirt, black crop top and jacket, with leather boots to match. Her long golden hair fell freely around her shoulders and stood out in stark contrast against her dark clothing.

Buffy glanced around as she walked. She no longer made it a point to look for trouble, she really couldn’t be bothered with it, but occasionally the odd vampire or demon would decide to come after her. This had been happening less and less as the word had gotten around that Buffy now fought to inflict as much pain as possible. If the imbeciles wanted a fight, she was more than happy to give it to them, but they had to be prepared to pay dearly for challenging her these days!

Buffy turned the corner out of the alley, and headed down one of the main streets on the “bad” side of town. The street was heaving with night life. Numerous bars and clubs lined the sidewalk offering just about anything the depraved passerby could ever imagine. The sidewalks themselves heaved with the undertones of humanity. Prostitutes, pimps, drug dealers just to name the cream of the crop. Buffy passed them all by without thought. Her intended destination was a dark little club that she had found shortly after arriving in LA.

The atmosphere of this club was just about as far removed from that of the Bronze, as Buffy could imagine. The Bronze had been a place to make friends, be with friends, and to maybe even fall in love. The Tomb, however, was a place to rock......a place to work out frustrations on the dance floor without having the words love or friendship enter into the night! The Tomb didn’t play love songs......it played rock and roll......and even when the odd rockin love song was played, Buffy was able to ignore the words and loose herself in the hard beat of the music.

Buffy reached the door of the club and nodded a greeting to the bouncer on the door who was busily arguing with a bunch of underage teenagers who were desperately trying to convince the bouncer to let them in. Recognising Buffy as a “regular”, the bouncer simply waved Buffy in without bothering to collect the $5 cover charge. Jackpot, thought Buffy as she moved into the darkness of the club, that money means an extra couple of drinks tonight.

Buffy stopped just inside the entrance to the club and let her eyes adjust to the gloom. Slowly she scanned the room, taking note of who was and was not here. The dance floor was packed with people rockin to Tina Turner singing “Addicted to Love”, bodies moved and gyrated in suggestive sexual patterns as the dancers moved to the strong beat, completely oblivious to those around them. Buffy felt her own body begin to move in time to the beat, but before she head out to the dance floor, there was something she needed to take care of.

Walking up to the bar, she squeezed herself in between two bar stools and flashed a note in the bar tender’s direction.

“Hey Buff....going for the usual tonight?” shouted the bar tender over the noise.

“Usual is good” replied Buffy

The bar tender moved off and returned in a few moments with a triple Scotch on the rocks and a beer. The bartender had guessed months back that Buffy was probably not twenty one.....but this was not the type of place that made too much of an issue of those types of things, especially with its regulars.

Buffy handed over the money and downed the Scotch in one go while waiting for her change. Then, change in hand, she picked up her beer and headed towards an empty table near the dance floor. Quickly, she put down her beer on the table and discarded her jacket onto the empty chair. She needed to get onto that dance floor and work off some energy......she felt like she was ready to explode!

It was almost an hour later before Buffy returned to the table feeling slightly less “tense”. Without sitting down, she picked up her beer and downed it in one. OK, she thought, time to see if there is anyone in this place worth the effort.

Cold eyes moved round the room appraisingly, occasionally pausing to assess a possibility before moving on in resignation. In her opinion, not a single one of them was “worth the effort”. Buffy sighed, and decided to head back out onto the dance floor.

It was her own fault, she acknowledged to herself......her standards were to weird for words, these days. She ached for someone to fill the empty void inside of her without that person trying to become attached to her. She had worked her way through a number of human males, and been sadly disappointed. Then she had decided to try out a few vampires. The club tended to get its fair share of the undead looking for easy targets, but the few she had approached had either (A) run off as soon as they realised she was a slayer, (B) tried to kill her, or (C) turned out to be such imbicilic morons that even wild sex was beyond their abilities!

Buffy called a halt to her rambling thoughts, and turned back towards the dance floor. As she turned she caught sight of something that twigged at her memory. Quickly she scanned the area trying to tie down the source of the memory jog thing, but nothing out of the ordinary was forthcoming. Shrugging mentally she turned back towards the dance floor.

She was well into the next song, when something began to tug at her brain demanding her attention. With some reluctance, she dragged her senses back from the dance, and tried to concentrate on what was bothering her.

Then, she had it. She was being watched......and it was more than the casual glance of some “on heat” male. She could feel eyes traveling over her body inch by inch. It had to be a vampire......only vampires could make you *feel* them looking at you like that!

Buffy stopped dancing completely, and turned full circle. If someone wanted to “play”, then she was more than ready for a fight.

She stared into the crowds surrounding the dance floor looking for a clue as to who was watching her so closely. As she watched, a figure detached itself from the crowd and moved over to lean against one of the pillars near the dance floor. The figure raised a hand and sent a half hearted salute in her direction.

'SPIKE!', thought Buffy in astonishment.

It had been so long since she had seen anyone from the old neighborhood, that the shock knocked her motionless for a long moment.

Unbidden, the first thought that jumped to her mind was, 'Damn, but he looks good.' That thought was quickly followed by, 'Jeez, brain freeze or what......what in the hell was she thinking....Spike would rip her throat out!'

Then a small smile began to tug at the corners of her mouth, though her eyes stayed cold and detached. At the very least, Spikes arrival could provide me with an evening’s entertainment.......it did offer some interesting possibilities if you just stopped and thought about it for awhile, she thought to herself.

I think its time for some pay back. My bet is that Spike is counting on me going into slayer mode, but I think its time for some fun......at Spike’s expense, of course.

Buffy was trying to figure out exactly how to exact some pay back, when the first beats of the Tina Turner song, “You’d Better Be Good To Me” began to rock the club........and with the first notes of the song an idea began to form in Buffy’s mind. Buffy didn’t stop to consider the consequences of her actions, she just began to move sexily to the beat, and as she moved, she kept eye contact across the room with Spike. Slowly she began to dance towards him, miming the words of the song with her lips and body.

Spike showed no reaction to the show, he just continued to lounge against the pillar, watching her thoughtfully.

By the time the second verse began, Buffy had moved to within inches of Spike’s face.

But Spike wasn’t as unaffected by the Slayer as he tried to make out. Buffy felt a surge of glee as she felt him harden against her. She could well imagine how poor Spike was struggling to fit all this into his “picture” of the Slayer!

Just alittle more, she thought to herself, as she moved in even closer and ran her tongue quickly and lightly up the side of his neck. She felt Spike stiffen, and felt his hands come to her waist to pull her tighter against him.

That was what she had been waiting for. In an instant she pushed herself free, and continued to dance to the song just out of his reach.

As the song began to draw to a close, Buffy moved back across the room. Quickly, she grabbed her coat and headed for the exit. Exit stage left, she smiled to herself; best to get outta here before Spike remembered he hated her.

She had made it less than 500 yards down the street, before someone grabbed her arm and spun her around,

“So, what in the bloody hell was all that about then?” said Spike

Buffy didn’t answer at first. She was to busy drinking in the sight of him. Cold but intelligent eyes stared at her out of a body, that was just to damn sexy. Come to think of it, he could be my perfect man........cold, no attachments needed......and I’d bet a million that he’s good in bed, thought Buffy.

Could be worth the effort. Just need to get him beyond this damn “me vampire, you slayer” deal.

Instead of answering his question, Buffy moved up against him and raised her eyes to his. Keeping eye contact, she gently began to feather his lips with a series of quick kisses, before gently nipping his bottom lip with her teeth.

Finally Spike reacted, he grabbed her arm and began dragging her towards his old black car which was parked just down the road.

“OK Slayer, I don’t have a bloody clue as to what is going on here but I’m taking you home...........*before* you get yourself killed” he said menacingly.

“Spike, my hero. Don’t tell me that you’re worried about little old me” replied Buffy as she batted her eyelashes at him in helpless maiden mode.

Spike merely shook his head in baffled wonder, before resuming his drag down the street.

Chapter Two

....whats love got to do with it,
whats love, but a second hand emotion,
who needs a heart when a heart can be broken?.....
(T. Turner, Whats Love Got To Do With It?)

After a few moments, Spike turned and looked at her. His eyes moved over her face and came to rest on her eyes. For several minutes, he stared into her cold, hard eyes.

“Looks like my little Slayer has gone and gotten all grown up on me” he said thoughtfully. 'In more ways than one!' he added silently to himself.

Buffy’s patience was starting to run abit thin, “So Spike, what’s it gonna be? Do I dust you, or are you man.....or should I say, vamp enough, to drive me home and see for yourself just how much I have grown up?”

Spike frowned at her, but didn’t reply to her invitation.

This was just to weird for words. What in the hell was the Slayer playing at?

He had known that he would find her at The Tomb tonight. Rumors had been flying around the neighborhood that there was a Slayer in town. Spike had gone to the club with the intention of getting her alone and then ripping her throat out. The idea of a good fight followed by some slayer blood had appealed to him, but he had not been prepared for what he had found. Her total attitude had intrigued him, his interest was aroused......and those eyes....those eyes......he’d swear they were colder and more lifeless than his own!! And the dance, well now, what had bothered him about that was *his* reaction to her. He wanted her. He didn’t fully understand why, after all, he hated her......but his body was not one to be denied it’s pleasures.

OK, so take her back to her place, get her outta your system, then rip her throat out. All desires satisfied in one night!

“So Slayer, where to?” he asked, glancing in her direction. Damn those eyes! He’d swear she knew exactly what he was planning, and she didn’t care!

“You just drive and I’ll direct you as we go” smirked Buffy. She had him hook, line and sinker, and it felt damn good!

“Hey, does this pile of junk have a working stereo?” she demanded. Spike glared at her, before reaching out his hand and flicking a switch. Music blared into the car at a decibel that would have made most cringe, but Buffy simply smiled in satisfaction. She should have guessed that Spike would have been partial to hard rock, but it had just never been something to think about before. Buffy settled back into her seat, as Spike maneuvered the car out onto the road. On the radio, the singer Meatloaf was busy telling them that he “would go into hell and back for love....but that he wouldn’t do THAT”. Buffy grinned inwardly to herself at the singer’s words. She fully intended to do ‘THAT’ before this night was over...hell or no hell!

Buffy felt the heat growing in her as she contemplated the night ahead with Spike. Finally, someone with an intelligence and passion that could satisfy this need in her. It didn’t matter to her one little bit that the passion she sought was an unholy passion; she just craved satisfaction. With a low groan, she swung herself round in the seat so that her back was supported by the dash board, and raised her legs to rest on the back of the seat. Now she was able to look at Spike as he drove.......and the looking was good!

Spike glanced over at her move and let his eyes travel slowly down her body and along her long legs. Removing one hand from the wheel, he wrapped it round her thigh and gently caressed the inside of her leg. Buffy felt a jolt run through her body at the contact and felt her blood pressure rise another few notches.

Without taking her eyes from his, she reached out with one hand and pushed his coat to one side. The outline of his nipples were just visible through the fabric of his T-shirt, and Buffy extended one manicured nail and gently traced the outline. As her finger followed the circular path, she allowed the merest sight of her tongue to follow a similar path round her lips.

Although it was impossible, Spike attempted to suck air into his lifeless lungs. With a groan he removed his hand from her thigh and captured her wandering finger.

“Slayer, I may be a demon, but I’m not made of stone......if you don’t want to die in a car wreck, I suggest you turn your attention to getting us to your place in one piece”

Buffy smiled in satisfaction at eliciting this response from him. Turning her head slightly, she gazed out at the passing neighborhood.

“Third street up, hang a right” she instructed. “Then it’s the fourth shack down on the left”

As Spike moved to follow her directions, the Slayer swung herself back around into her seat and reached into her bag and pulled out a cigarette.

“Oh no you don’t” said Spike slapping it from her hand.

“What’s this......Mr Chain Smokin Vamp.....worried about my health and long life” said Buffy angrily

Spike glared back at her, before reaching down with vampyric speed and snatching the pack from her bag and tossing them out the window. The site of the Slayer doing something as stupid as smoking had bothered him on a level that he had no wish to examine closely......but he had better come up with a reason, since the Slayer was looking at him in definite dust mode.

“I quit......getting smoke into dead lungs without any breath turned out to be more trouble than it was worth.” was the only excuse he could come up with.....and it was a lame one!

Buffy stared at him for a moment in total disbelief, before turning her attention back to the passing neighborhood.

“Here......stop here” she said, “This is home sweet home”.

Spike eased the car into the drive way and took a long look at the shack Buffy called home.

“See you’ve been movin up in the world since we last met” was his only comment.

“It’s sun proof and has a king size bed......any other questions?” said Buffy as she moved from the car and headed towards the front door.

Spike continued to sit in the car, thinking. Did he really want to do this? Did he really want to get involved with a Slayer with eyes that were colder than his? As he thought, he watched the Slayer move up the path towards her house. Her body moved with a suggestive gracefulness that was not lost on the Vampire. His body moved under him urging him to accept the offered treat, but his mind continued to shout a danger warning at the top of its voice.

Buffy had reached her front door. She turned and looked back at the car.

“You coming?” she asked. “You’re invited in” she added before turning and disappearing into the dark interior.

Spike lowered his head in thought for a moment. Finally his mind was made up. With vampyric gracefulness he moved from the car and followed Buffy into the darkness.

Next