Where the Demon-y Things Are By Estepheia RATING: NC-17 DISCLAIMER: The characters of this story belong to Mutant Enemy. I am just borrowing them. AUTHOR'S NOTE: The first lines of dialogue come out of the Season 4 episode "Where the Wild Things Are" which was written by Tracey Forbes. DEDICATED TO MY WONDERFUL BETA MARCEE

The Bronze, April 2000

Part 1 - SPIKE

Sitting on a couch at the Bronze, Spike was holding a glass of vodka in his right hand. His left arm was resting along the top of the couch, almost touching Anya. The ex-vengeance demon was unhappily cradling a bottle of beer. Spike had paid for the drinks with Anya's money, because, despite over a thousand years of existence as a vengeance demon, she still wasn't allowed to buy alcohol. A fact that irritated her and cheered the vampire up.

Watching other people in misery was one of the few pleasures left to him. *It's only a matter of time,* he told himself. *Sooner or later I'll get rid of that soddin' chip, and then I am going to paint the town red.* Until then he'd bide his time, study the Scoobies or get up their noses and gloat over their petty little problems. *Even better than watching 'Passions'.*

He realized that Anya had stopped talking. "Yeah, tell me about it," he said, confident that she wouldn't notice that he hadn't really paid much attention to what she was saying. He was almost sure it was something about missing her powers. Instead, he had been listening to the sounds of blood pumping through her warm, delicious body. Not deliberately, mind you. All that blood, and here he was, unable to take it. It was worse than an itch one couldn't scratch; the hunger was a constant dull ache. A knot in his stomach that no amount of bagged plasma could ease.

"A year and a half ago, I could have eviscerated him with my thoughts. Now I can barely hurt his feelings," she sighed. "Things used to be so much simpler."

*Simpler? You can say that again,* Spike thought, for the first time fully understanding that monkey-boy's little shag toy was just as de-fanged as he was. He nodded wistfully. "You know ... you take the killing for granted." Anya nodded nostalgically. "And then it's gone," he continued. "And you're like, 'I wish I'd appreciated it more.' Stopped and smelled the corpses, you know?"

Anya just stared into empty space. "Yeah. Now everything's complicated."

"It's a terrible thing, love is. Been there myself." Spike paused, thinking of Drusilla. *She's not coming back. An' even if she did - what would I tell her? 'Guess what, your big bad dog has been turned into a fluffy puppy?'*

He still didn't get it, why she had left him. He still felt as if part of him was inexplicably missing. Like he was adrift, somehow. Not that he'd ever tell little Miss Vengeance 'bout that. Fortunately brawling and killing made that awful emptiness go away - for a while. Worked better than getting drunk - cheaper, too.

Shagging Harm had also helped, but only just. And now he didn't even have that stupid bint for company, anymore. Who'd fall for a neutered vampire, anyway? Not his own kind, that's for sure.

"It ended badly," he concluded, realizing how anti-climactic that sounded.

"Of course it did." Anya said knowingly. "It always does. Seen a thousand relationships. First there's the love, and sex, and then there's nothing left but the vengeance. That's how it works."

Perhaps it was the proximity or her scent, he didn't really care. But he noticed that - without any conscious thought - his body had decided to change gears. He felt himself reacting to her body in an unexpected but not unwelcome way. Spike smiled. His gaze dropped to her lips. *Pretty!* He gave her a once over. *Veeery pretty.* What was that question again: 'who'd fall for a neutered vampire?' Hmm. Perhaps an ex-demon might? At least she hadn't always been human.

He smiled and leaned in close, tapping her shoulder with his finger. "You and I... should just go do the vengeance. Both of us! You eviscerate Xander and I'll stake Dru. Like a project."

*It would be fun to be part of an evil team again...* He studied her intently. *Well, well, if she doesn't look tempted.* For a moment it seemed like she was going to agree. But then she sighed.

"I don't know. I just can't."

Spike resignedly took his arm down. *No money, no blood, no evisceration of Xander, no nice after-torture shag...* The thought of an eternity spent chipped made unlife look incredibly bleak.

"You can go do Dru though," Anya said, with a counterfeit cheer.

Spike nodded. "Yeah. I will," he said, knowing that he wouldn't. He made no move. "Maybe later."

Anya smiled. They sat together quietly, morosely watching those stupid mortal humans dancing and drinking and getting on with their brief pathetic lives.

After a while Spike picked up a quickening of Anya's heartbeat. He followed her gaze. There was a couple on the dance floor that was unashamedly making out, kissing and groping, hands sliding under T-shirts... that sort of thing. He turned his attention back to the ex-demon and realized that her breathing had quickened a bit as well. Her lips were slightly parted and there was a certain longing in her eyes. His manhood hardened some more, now seriously interested. When he saw her unconsciously licking her lips he rose. Spike took her bottle and put it on a side table, together with his own drink, then he took her hands in his to slowly pull her up.

"Let's dance," he merely said.

Surprised, but pleased, she let herself be pulled to her feet, but then her smile was replaced by a look of suspicion. "Why?" she asked bluntly.

"Because dancing keeps everything else at bay," and when he realized that she didn't understand what he meant, he added: "We'll look good together. Let's not stare at them, make them stare at us."

THAT she understood.

Dancing was something Spike enjoyed. Something he was good at. He had only ever danced with Dru and a few times with prey, but he had always been the one to lead, dancing being one of the few instances in which his sire had relinquished control to him. Dru could be old-fashioned at times.

Anya wasn't an experienced dancer but she had an innate grace and a sense of time and space. But most of all she wasn't at odds with her body. Spike held her very firmly, leading her into simple motions, making her sway languidly, circling her with feline grace, gravitating around her. He didn't mind her noticing his arousal, but he didn't purposefully press his erection against her either. She, on the other hand, did not shrink from his embrace but followed his lead without hesitation. They did indeed look stunning together.

When the music stopped, she just stayed in his arms and waited for the next song, her fingers just slightly tightening their grip. He noted her heady scent, the way it was tinged by her increasing arousal, her beautiful brown eyes, her surprisingly strong body. And, of course, her warmth. He felt the mounting desire to bury himself in that heat.

"You are a much better dancer than Xander," she said with her usual directness.

"You learn a lot in over a century," he said suavely. "And not just dancin', either." She didn't react to his double-entendre. She just nodded.

The next song was "Bela Lugosi's Dead", an irony not lost on the vampire. As her confidence grew, Anya's mask of concentration was replaced by a smile. She followed her partner's cues with increasing familiarity.

...The bats have left the bell tower

The victims have been bled

Red velvet lines the black box

Bela Lugosi's dead

Undead undead undead...

Spike smiled. Having come to the conclusion that subtlety was wasted on Anya, he leaned towards her ear, his cheek close enough to feel her warmth basking his skin, but not quite touching her. "Ever been with a vampire before?" he asked her, rubbing his thumb over her palm.

"Yes, but I was still a demon then."

That was not the answer he had expected. "Anyone I know?"

"Count Dracula," Anya smiled proudly. "We dated for a while... I was only 700 then."

"Well, that poncy bugger doesn't count," Spike said, feeling a sudden pang of rivalry. "Bet you discussed the fineries of impaling people, rather than enjoying a good romp, ey?" He pulled her closer, into a spin. She responded willingly. When he pressed himself against her a bit more explicitly she responded in kind. And suddenly her hand was underneath his T-shirt.

*Score!*

****************************

Part 2 - ANYA

*If Xander doesn't find me desirable anymore, at least Spike does. Visibly.* Anya thought - not without a certain amount of defiance. The vampire's obvious interest was flattering. Good for her self-esteem. Since her relationship with Xander was on the verge of breaking up - even if he still denied it - she needed every boost of confidence she could get. Which is why she had accepted the vampire's offer to dance.

He was also more than pleasant to look at, she had noticed. As long as she had been with Xander, ogling other men had been a big no-no. And, so far, being faithful hadn't been difficult. In fact, she had wondered a few times what it was that made humans cheat on each other.

Now she knew. Hormones! And fighting. But most of all hormones. *I wonder, if the fighting is caused by hormones, too...* Was it possible she had spent over a thousand years dishing out vengeance on innocent people who had merely fallen victim to an imbalance in their body chemistry?

...Undead undead undead...

Dancing was wonderful. She had never before realized just how sensual an experience it could be. If she had, she probably wouldn't have agreed to dance with Spike.

She met his eyes. His look could only be described as smoldering. He wanted her. Once more, her gaze involuntarily dropped to the bulge in his pants before being drawn to his eyes again. He pulled her closer and she let him. She felt his hardness against her thigh, not demanding but promising. She felt herself returning the pressure.

*Stupid human body!* she thought, for the first time at odds with THAT part of her humanity.

Why did human bodies react the way they did? Why did hers ever decide that Alexander Harris was the one man to interlock with, and why had it suddenly changed its mind? Why did the vampire make her all hot? When she didn't even particularly like him.

And why was her hand roaming under Spike's T-shirt?

His flesh was hard and muscular under her caress. But his skin was smooth, pleasantly so. She let her hand glide from his waist to his spine and upwards between his shoulder blades. She thought about the fact that Xander never liked her to touch him this ostentatiously in public. The vampire just raised his eyebrow and smiled cockily.

This was the first male body, other than Xander's, that her hands set out to explore. He was warmer than expected, but then, the dance floor was warmed by the body heat of scores of dancers. Plus, the spotlights and lamps heated the air further. In this warm environment, the vampire could almost pass as human.

Anya didn't share Xander's aversion to vampires or Buffy's dislike of Spike in particular. Spike was a vampire. What did they expect? For one of the undead, Spike was actually not so bad. He hadn't hired any killers to take them out, he didn't smell of earth or anything worse, he helped them, even if not always enthusiastically, and he didn't beat around the bush. He usually said what he thought, a trait Anya found sadly lacking in her fellow humans.

Spike leaned closer. "Harris is a moron," he said. "I'd shag you in a heartbeat, Anyanka." There was amusement in his gaze, but also desire. "But then again, Harris hasn't got a vampire's stamina."

She wasn't surprised when a cool hand slid smoothly under her blouse to rub her waist and then sneak round to the small of her back. His fingers slid between the waistband of her jeans and her back, downwards, with slow determination. Not greedily, just teasingly.

"I believe it probably happens to all humans." Anya mused. "After the... novelty wears off, their sexual interest declines and the deepness of their feelings does too."

The music changed to a slower song, more sensual.

"Well, I'm not human," Spike said with a shrug, not taking his eyes off her face. Which excited her.

Anya stared back, weighing her options.

*Stupid stupid human body!* she thought without much conviction as the touch of his hands sent a shiver of anticipation through her.

...This is a breathless silence

A moment out of time

I see your face in the shadows

The tell-tale signs are in your eyes...

*Over a century! He stayed with Drusilla for over a hundred years - and he'd still be with her if she hadn't cheated on him. He loves her, still.* Anya couldn't help being impressed. Fidelity scored big marks with what was left of Anyanka in her.

But tonight he wanted her and she wanted him. And Xander had spurned her.

...Aching with a passion inside

Deep as the river

All desire...

He held her tight and brought his mouth close to her ear. "I want you, Anya. I want you so bad," he said just loud enough for her to make out the words, his breath was fanning her ear. The way he said 'bad' sent a shiver down her spine. Or was it the way his lips 'accidentally' brushed her earlobe?

"But..."

"Shh. I want to make you feel how bad I want you."

Smiling, he pulled back, never letting go of her hand. His fingers intertwined with hers, playfully caressing, teasing. He was walking backwards, pulling her with him, off the dance floor. His coat was billowing around him like the leathery wings of a bat. His eyes were focused on her, with burning intensity. His smile was that of a predator certain of his prey.

He lifted her hand to his lips and lightly licked the inside of her palm, making her feel hot and cold at the same time.

...Forever in this half-light

All desire...

She followed him.

He led her outside. It was a warm night. There was no physical need to shiver, yet she did. There was a fairly secluded spot in the back alley of the building, next to a parked delivery van.

He was still holding her hands. He raised one arm and gave her a slight tug, as if they were still dancing, leading her into a spin that brought her into his arms. She was leaning against him, her arms crossed in front of her, cradled by him. He pressed his erection against her ass, slowly grinding his hips against her. And then she felt him nibble lightly on her earlobe, nipping her throat teasingly. She could hear him panting. Her own breathing wasn't any slower.

His lips wandered along her throat to her collarbone, kissing and nibbling. His hands released hers to move to the buttons of her blouse. One by one her buttons were undone, slowly but deftly, while a cool tongue teased her heated skin. His body was undulating against hers with increasing urgency as his hands searched for the bra's clasp. When he didn't find it he simply tore it and stuffed the shreds into the pocket of his duster.

"Hey," Anya exclaimed in protest, momentarily startled. "Do you know how much..."

"Shh, I'll buy you a new one," Spike interrupted huskily, cupping her breasts with both hands and stilling her protest by making her moan instead.

She was beginning to feel slightly unsteady. There was a wall with a half torn 'Dingoes' poster right in front of her. She supported herself against that wall, bracing herself for the increasing intensity of Spike's thrusts. His left hand wandered to the button of her jeans. Then the zip. He pushed her pants down a little bit, just enough to allow him access. Finally his hand slid down into her panties and into her soft curls.

"Spike," she whispered. Just his name. She arched her back and neck. Cold lips returned to her throat, yet it didn't even occur to her to be afraid.

"Anyanka," he murmured. And then something cool slid between her thighs, caressing her moist and hot cleft. His fingertips stroked her softly, circling her clit and teasing her opening. Somehow, Spike had quickly found a rhythm that would soon bring her release, without her even having to tell him what she liked. *Over a hundred years of experience.* The thought came unbidden and was quickly forgotten, because what he was doing to her felt so good.

Suddenly, when she could already feel her orgasm building, those wonderful fingers were withdrawn. She dimly realized from the lack of pressure on her back and the sounds he was making, that Spike was opening his pants.

She turned around. He was beautiful in his arousal. His eyes were dark and hungry, his lips parted. She reached for the back of his head and pulled him towards her, into a crushing kiss, plundering his mouth with her tongue. Meanwhile she let her right hand roam over his taut stomach, downwards until she met his hands. He had already succeeded in opening his belt. She continued with the unfamiliar buttons, a bit clumsily, because Xander wore pants with zips, but finally she succeeded in freeing his stiff cock from its confines.

She could hear his sharp intake of breath as her hot fingers enveloped his cold but hard erection. "Yeah, oh good, Ahn..." he moaned.

If Xander ever found out about this, he'd be furious. *And why did I just think of Xander?* Anya thought, unpleasantly distracted from her pursuit of the pleasure moment. Xander wouldn't just be jealous - which would serve him right - but he'd also feel hurt and betrayed. Rightly so! But if she were to be completely honest with herself, she didn't want to hurt Xander. Not like this.

"No!" Anya abruptly exclaimed. "Spike, stop!"

"What?!"

"I'm sorry, I can't. I can't do something I have spent over a thousand years punishing other people for."

He stood there, his erection protruding from his half opened pants, his shirt untidy, his hair unruly, his mouth open, staring at her incredulously. Until her words sank in. She could see the murderous rage building behind those expressive blue eyes. For a moment she was genuinely scared, but then she remembered the chip. So did he, apparently, because although his fists were clenched and his jaw muscles were tense he stayed in his human guise, panting furiously, barely restraining himself.

She knew then that one day she'd pay for today's humiliation. *Is there a vengeance demon who takes on chipped vampires as clients?*

"Spike," she said as firmly as she could, "it's nothing personal. I find you very attractive and I want to have sex with you. But not now. I haven't even broken up with Xander. Until I have, I won't cheat on him." Her body was still tingling with want and she wasn't sure if she'd be able to resist, if Spike decided to continue stimulating her. But she was proud of herself for resisting her stupid human body's hormone induced cravings.

The vampire didn't look like he had heard a word of what she had said. He was trembling with rage and the effort of controlling himself. "You... you..." he was obviously speechless.

*I can't leave him like that,* Anya thought. *I have put the plague on men for playing with women's expectations like that. There must be something I can do...*

"Spike!" she said, a bit louder. "Shut up!" She yanked him around so his shoulders touched the wall. And then she knelt in front of him and took his stiff shaft into her hand.

He clearly hadn't expected her to do that, because he produced a strangled sound and bucked involuntarily.

He looked down at her, and she met his confused gaze evenly. "Just because I can't have any sex, it doesn't mean you can't," she explained. His fury dissipated visibly.

"Anyanka, you really have yer own brand of logic, girl." His last words turned into a moan because Anya began to stroke him. "Not complainin', mind you," he hurried to add.

She studied his penis attentively. It looked and felt quite different from Xander's circumcised member. Strangely pale. As if made of marble. And it was cool in her hands. Well, not for long.

She ran her fingers over his hardness, exploring it tenderly at first, but then stroking more firmly. She didn't know what he liked, but Spike was a talker, unlike Xander, who still got embarrassed when asked to voice his preferences. Spike knew no such restraint.

"Oh yes, Anya, good. Do that again... yeah. Slow down, oh my..."

She looked up and saw him tilting his head backwards, and arching his back. It pleased her to see that she was able to give him pleasure. She moistened her lips, and then she turned her concentration back to matters at hand. Without prior warning she closed her wet lips on the tip of his shaft, before slowly taking him deeply into her mouth.

He exhaled with a surprised gasp, a deliciously helpless sound. He beat his fists against the wall, leaning against it for support. Somehow he managed to keep his hips still.

She let one hand knead his still clothed buttock, again amazed at the firmness of his flesh. The other hand snuck between his legs to cup his balls, while her lips and tongue were pleasuring him.

"You're so hot... that's it..."

He buried his hand in her hair.

Anya had hoped her desire would decrease without his hands on her body, but it hadn't diminished in the least. Her body still wanted to interlock with his. Badly. She knew it was all ready for him. Her breasts longed for his touch and her sheath wanted to feel his hardness inside her. That's what human bodies were evidently made for.

Suddenly she heard steps behind her. She didn't stop until she heard a feral, threatening snarl from Spike. She looked up and saw that he was wearing his bestial face. She turned to follow his gaze and saw two vampires backing off. When she looked at Spike's face again, the bony ridges and fangs had disappeared. In their place was a smug smile. She licked the tip of his cock, then gave it a slight nibble and heard him moan, the smugness gone.

"Christ!" he said hoarsely.

She began to stroke his member more firmly and as the fingers between his legs became more daring, her lips engulfed his length. He made an incoherent sound, as he tried to keep his hips from bucking wildly. "Yes, oh yes, go on," her urged her on. "Yes, there, God, do that again...yes... I'm...close..."

He came with a strangled howl, shooting into her ready mouth. She looked up to met his wide-eyed gaze, before she swallowed his come without hesitation. He looked pleased. His breathing slowed. He pulled her up and tried to kiss her again, but stopped when she pulled back.

He studied her for a moment, then he cocked his eyebrow.

"That was fun, luv," he said languidly. "Let me know if you ever fancy an encore. Any time."

She just nodded and began to rearrange her clothing, her face flushed from exertion and unfulfilled lust.

He searched the pockets of his duster, grinning momentarily as his fingers brushed against the remains of her bra, and pulled out his cigarettes.

"Want one?" he offered.

"Why would I shorten the already far too brief life span of my body unnecessarily?"

"Suit yourself, luv," he shrugged, clearly not insulted. He lit his fag and inhaled deeply - never mind the cliché, he always liked a smoke after sex. He began to button up his pants. "So, where we goin' now?"

"How would you like to go and visit a frat party on campus?" Anya asked. "The others will be there, too."

"Isn't that a bit tame?" But he knew he'd come along, if only for the free drinks.

"Perhaps," Anya said. "But if you're lucky Xander and I will break up there. And then you and I might get a chance to have sex, after all."

Spike nodded. He smiled. Her smell was still clinging to his fingers. "Yeah right, sounds like a plan, luv."

THE END

Epilogue

BACK TO INDEX

Spike and Anya dance to:

Bauhaus - Bela Lugosi's Dead

Shriekback - This Big Hush (which some may recognize from the soundtrack to the first Hannibal Lecter film "Manhunter")