Dedicated to my friend (and beta-reader) Marcee and my husband Stefan, who both asked for some more Spike/Anya action.

 

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Part 33 - Sex, Truth and Audio (not necessarily in that order)

 

"Ouw! Bloody hell!"

 

The stake was driven in deep enough to draw blood. Another inch and the Watcher would be able to write the last chapter on William the Bloody. Spike stared in fascination as a red rivulet ran down his chest, into the water, coloring the foam a froofy pink.

 

"Did you seduce my fiancé?" the ex-demon repeated. One of her knees was painfully pressing into his solar plexus. She gripped his hair with her left hand and yanked his head backwards so he was forced to look at her. Their faces were about a foot apart.

 

"For Christ's sake, Anya!" Spike exclaimed.

 

"Did you?"

 

"No," he babbled hurriedly. "I mean, yes. Bugger this, it's kinda complicated, yes and no."

 

Anya frowned, but the stake stayed where it was. "How can this be complicated? Either you did or you didn't! Did you have sex with him?"

 

"Why don't you ask him?" Spike said defiantly. *God, I hope she hasn't turned Xan into a slug, already.* He felt a sudden pang of fear for the human.

 

"Did you and Xander have sex?"

 

"Is Xan alright? You didn't do anything rash, did ya?" *If she did something to him, she'd tell me, wouldn't she? To scare me?*

 

"Did you?" He gasped in pain as she put more pressure on.

 

"Depends on your definition," Spike answered, remembering how two years ago in that alley behind the Bronze she'd defended her decision to bring their would-be-fling to a screeching halt.

 

"Did he stick his dick into you?" she asked bluntly.

 

"No!" Spike said. Strangely enough, Anya - *or Anyanka?* - seemed to take his word for it. Spike found the whole scene utterly surreal. Any arousal he might have felt had fled in that brief moment of genuine fear, when the sharpened wood had pierced his flesh. Now he felt bewildered and still very alarmed.

 

"Did you stick your dick into him?" she continued her interrogation.

 

"Not exactly, but---"

 

"But?" she pounced on the word.

 

*When will I ever learn to keep my big mouth shut?* "But I would have if it hadn't been for that sodding chip!" Spike admitted with more bravado than he felt. Secretly, he was wondering if this was really the right moment to be truthful. "Didn't feel like bein' zapped in the act."

 

That confession obviously didn't go down well with her. Spike could see her eyes narrowing.

 

He just couldn't understand why she was overreacting like that. Right, so he and Xander had gotten a little bit carried away. So what! Maybe it was time to remind her of certain events from two years ago. Put things into perspective...

 

"For Christ's sake, Anyanka," Spike told her hurriedly, not quite sure if he was talking himself into or out of the quagmire, but struggling anyway. "What makes you think you can throw stones, pet? Remember the Bronze? Dark alley, you, on your knees. Giving me one hell of a blowjob...  You can be self-righteous all you like, but I bet you never told him 'bout that night, now did ya?" *God, even after two years the memory still turns me on.*

 

She didn't answer him. Anger burned off her in palpable waves. Her grip on the stake tightened.

 

That was the moment the CD reached track four and the first beats of a melancholy song filled the silence...

 

Anya tensed. She looked like she'd been caught red-handed. A blush spread over her cheeks. It took Spike a moment to catch on but then he recognized the song they had danced to at the Bronze. *She bought the CD!* He smirked, unable to keep the triumphant expression off his face.

 

"How could you, Spike?" she asked, and he could see that beneath her fierce anger she was both hurt and confused. "How could you make him cheat on me?"

 

"I'm a vampire. I'm supposed to be like the baby-eating bishop of Bath and Wells, you know: do anything to anything - animal, vegetable or mineral," Spike scoffed, his resolve to drop the big bad act around the two humans involuntarily replaced by die-hard habit. "What'd you expect?" *Besides, I was lonely and horny and I like him, and I think the only one who could have stopped this thing from happening would have been Xander himself...*

 

"I thought you were our friend. I trusted you, I even invited you to my birthday party!" Suddenly, a tear rolled down her face.

 

Spike shifted uncomfortably.

 

"Being a vampire is no excuse," Anya continued, as she struggled for composure. "There's always a choice. You made yours and you're going to pay."

 

*Oh fuck!* - "Anya, wait..."

 

"Dusting you is too good for you. I still have friends in the business. Your torment will last forever. When I'm through with you, your penis will wish it had never been born."  Her voice was businesslike, almost rational. But all the time tears were rolling down her face, shiny little droplets that painted wet trails on her skin, then clung to her chin. He was startled when tears landed on his chest.

 

"Anya..." he tried again, rattled by the intensity of her emotions.

 

"I'll make sure you never steal other people's fiancés again," Anya continued. She tossed the stake away and slowly released her painful grip on his hair. Her hand traveled downwards, caressing his cheek as if wistfully memorizing the contours of his cheekbones by touch. "I'll take away your good looks. I'll have maggots infest your flesh, eating you from within, crawling and wriggling under your skin. Never ending pain, and no one will ever look at you or kiss you or have sex with you again. Even vampires will recoil in revulsion, how would you like that?"

 

Her words sent a shiver down his spine. Over a thousand years in the vengeance trade had taught her well. Condemning him to spending eternity as a kind of leper? Scary! So, why was he feeling sorry for HER? He could have told himself that he was a vampire and evil, unable to feel compassion and all that human rot, that the dull ache in his chest had to be merely physical... *Yeah, right, who am I kidding?* Looking into her eyes felt like looking into a mirror, because in her eyes he found the same neediness and fear of loneliness he was so painstakingly familiar with.

 

All of a sudden, something she had said, that had nagged his brain, made perfect sense. "Steal? Is that what you think?"

 

Her eyes said 'yes'.

 

"I wasn't stealing him away." Spike said softly. "I was just borrowing him, hell, not even that. Xander loves you, you know that. For cryin' out loud, Anya, he wouldn't have come to me if it hadn't been because of you!"

 

"What do you mean?" Anya asked in a small voice.

 

"He didn't tell ya? That thing you wanted him to try, you know? Came to me for help, he did. What with your birthday coming up, an' seeing that I've got more than a hundred years worth of experience in the kinky sex department. He was tryin' to be, you know, more open minded. Told him it wouldn't work, not with him not trustin' me and all. And then we got sort of carried away working on that trust issue, but I was never trying to steal him away from you. Splitting you up? I wouldn't do that to either of you."

 

"What are you talking about?" Anya asked, confused by the vampire's garbled account.

 

"Xander. And. Me. Treating. You," he said very slowly, "to a nice threesome. A good and proper shagfest, with all the trimmings, what else would I be talking about? Xander said you wanted him to give it a shot and in a moment of genius he came to me. Actually, I thought you might have suggested me, you know, wanting to finish what we started..."

 

Anya stood with her mouth open. *He's not leaving me. Xander's not leaving me!* Relief washed over her and made her knees buckle. She slumped down, not really caring that she ended up sitting in a tub full of water, on a naked vampire's crotch.

 

"Yeah, you could have knocked ME out with a feather, too, when he said it. Not that I'm not the perfect choice. I mean, I know a thing or two about this kind of thing," Spike said, shamelessly plugging his charms. *It's not like I'm lying, I'm...uh... exaggerating.*

 

"Shut up," Anya said sharply.

 

Spike closed his mouth. Anya blinked, slightly dazed. "Let me get this straight, you're my birthday present?"

 

"In a manner of speaking."

 

"Oh."

 

"Anya? I like chains and stuff like the next bloke, but d'you think I could get the use of my hands back, luv?"

 

A smile formed on her face. She wiped the tears off with the sleeve of her otherwise wet dressing gown and sniveled.

 

"Anya?" He nodded towards the manacles.

 

She ignored his request. Instead she pointed at his bleeding chest accusingly: "Why didn't anyone tell me? Why did you let me get angry first? I almost staked you!"

 

"Wouldn't have been much of a surprise, now, would it. Mind you, I told Xan to talk to you and get the whole thing sorted out before the event itself, to cut down on nervousness and misunderstandings. For maximum pleasure, so to speak." He raised an eyebrow suggestively. "The manacles? Could you...?"

 

Now that the danger of being staked or cursed seemed no longer imminent he felt his body displaying a certain joie-de-vivre.  *There's nothing like a near death experience to make you horny,* he mused as he ogled Anya's breasts appreciatively.

 

Apparently, Anya had noticed that something was stirring underneath her. Their eyes met. Both felt a desire wash over them that had been carefully kept under wraps for two years. Their lips met in a frantic kiss. His tongue darted into her open mouth. Anya tilted her head to the side, allowing for deeper invasion and pushed him back against the rim of the tub with the force of her kiss. Her hands slid up his cuffed arms to clutch his shoulders almost painfully. The bathtub was really too narrow for two people, without their knees and elbows getting in the way. But Anya and Spike didn't care. There was nothing graceful about their kiss, but it was fiercely intense. Both ignored the water that sloshed out of the tub whenever they dove at each other.

 

He explored her neck with his tongue, licking and nibbling gently along her jugular. He could feel her blood pulsing under his lips, could smell her life-force, delicious, tantalizing, laced with pheromones or endorphins or whatever. Even so, it never even occurred to him to think of her as anything else than a very desirable woman.

 

Anya pulled back, panting, and shrugged out of her wet dressing gown. Then she took aim and caught his lower lip between her teeth. Spike bucked in surprise. She started to nibble, sending shivers of anticipation through him. Her right hand sneaked down to squeeze his backside before travelling to where their bodies were separated by nothing more than a black and burgundy pair of lace panties. Spike began to struggle against his restraints. "Christ, Anya!" he exclaimed. "Wait. Stop!"

 

She withdrew reluctantly. "What?"

 

"This must sound really stupid, comin' from me," Spike said with a smirk that was bordering on a genuine smile, "but I'm not sure it's such a great idea for you to sample the wares right now." *And since when did you get all virtuous?*  a tiny evil voice asked in the back of his head.

 

"Why not?" she asked simply.

 

"Two things. Well, for one thing I will have to kill you if you stop half way again, like last time. So don't start anything you don't want to finish."

 

She nodded.

 

"Secondly, I don't think Xander's recruiting me for your birthday is meant as a  'Shag-my-fiancé-any-time-you-like' license. He finds us havin' a go, there's no tellin' what he'll do..." He tilted his head. "Besides, a little anticipation is a good thing," he added.

 

"How often?" She asked him.

 

"Huh?"

 

"How often did you work on that 'trust issue'?"

 

"Oh, um, twice I guess," he chuckled, "if you count long distance make up sex without the actual touching."

 

"Good."

 

"Huh?"

 

"That means I have some catching up to do, if I want an equal share of you." She smiled, happily. And then she rubbed herself against his hard-on and for a moment all he could do was gasp.

 

"Whatever you say," he answered finally, trailing kisses from her collarbone to her firm breasts. His lips were cool, but they made her feel like she was on fire. Anya reached behind her back and with trembling fingers unclasped her bra, allowing him better access.

 

"You wanna consider freeing my hands, too?" he murmured as he teased her hard nipples with his cool tongue. She shook her head. "Maybe later," she answered, sounding both cheerful and slightly shaky.

 

"What? Come on, Anya, I want to touch you," he pleaded, ineffectually struggling against the metal cuffs.

 

She pulled back a bit an gave him a smile that was decidedly naughty.

 

"You want to touch me, Spike? Where? Here?" She ran her hands over her breasts, playing with her nipples. "Or here?" One hand traveled south inside her panties. He clenched his fists in frustration.

 

"You're wicked," he said admiringly.

 

She smiled and continued to touch herself.

 

"Please," he said, his voice thick with desire.

 

Anya contemplated making him beg some more, but had to admit to herself that she was just as impatient as he was. She so wanted to feel his hands on her. Now! She touched the metal shackles. "Release!" she commanded and the manacles turned into thin chains again, freeing the vampire's wrists. His hands were on her in an instant, holding her, cupping her breasts, stroking heated skin, touching her hair.

 

They fumbled around, repeatedly banging their elbows as they explored and teased each other's bodies, and once Anya accidentally touched his chest wound, causing him to hiss in pain, but they ignored the discomfort. The only thing that counted was their desire for each other.

 

His touch was firm and confident. She didn't resist when he took her hand and placed it on his cock. By now, most of the water had ended up on the bathroom floor, so she could see the swollen tip of his cock clearly. She began to play with it, running her fingers round the sensitive tip, caressing and teasing, proud of every gasp and moan she elicited.

 

"Yes... oh... oh yeah..."

 

His hand slipped inside her panties, finding her slick with her own juices and ready. He ran his fingertips over her swollen clit, causing her to tremble, before sliding a finger into her. He pistoned her in the same rhythm she was pumping him.

 

"Spike, I want you," Anya finally moaned. "Now."

 

He gripped her panties, but then he paused, remembering how she disliked her underwear to be torn. "You gonna charge me for'em?" he asked with a breathless laugh.

 

"Do it," she said, urgently. "Consider them prepaid."

 

So he did. He could, after all, always nick new ones. And then there were no more obstacles between them. She lifted her hips and slowly lowered herself onto his rock-hard shaft. He exhaled forcefully as he felt himself sliding into her. Feeling her heat surround him was so incredibly good. He shuddered and clutched her thighs, willing her to give him a moment to savor to the sensation. They stared at each other in wonder. He moved forward and breathed a kiss on her parted lips.

 

When he softened his grip on her thighs, Anya began to move, up and down, falling into a steady rhythm. He guided her with his hands but otherwise he let her dictate the pace. She was too worked up to take things slowly, she was soon picking up speed. "Good, yes... Anya, like that, yeah," he murmured, as she used her well-trained  internal muscles on him. "Careful with that, if you want me to last much longer... Anya...yes... God, you're beautiful ..."

 

He began to thrust into her, but found the tub too restricting. "Wait, Anya, stop!"

 

"What?" she asked, looking slightly dazed. "If you're thinking of going away now, as payback for last time, I will definitely curse you with impotence."

 

"No need, luv," Spike said. "Come on, Ahn, let's get up. There's something I've wanted to do for two years now." They extricated themselves from each other and stood up. Spike climbed out of the tub and, holding her hand, made her follow him.

 

"What...?"

 

"Shhh," he silenced her. With a sudden pull he caused her to spin into his arms. His embrace was rough and demanding as he took control, making her moan. After another hungry kiss he turned her around so her back was pressed against him and firmly took both her wrists. He made her rest her hands on the wall, like a cop about to frisk a suspect. His hands covered hers as he positioned himself behind her and slowly undulated his hard body against hers.

 

"Call it sentimental or call it unfinished business, but I wanna take you like this," he said into her ear, brushing his cheek against hers. He licked the nape of her neck, breathing on her, causing her to shiver. And then his hands traveled down her arms, tickling and teasing, to her breasts and downwards to play with her damp curls. "Tell me what you want, Anya!"

 

She reached down to push his hand further between her thighs.

 

"Uh uh," he scolded her with a shake of his head. He caught her hand and  pinned it against the wall again.

 

"Say it!" he insisted.

 

"I want you, Spike. I want you inside me."

 

"Magic word?"

 

"Now!" she rubbed her backside against his erection.

 

He chuckled. "I think you can do better than that."

 

"Please!"

 

"Since you ask so nicely..." He reached for his cock and placed the tip at her opening. With a groan he pushed inside again. She braced herself against his hard thrusts, bending forward a bit for a better angle. She bit her lip, growing more and more desperate for release.

 

She trembled and made keening sounds as he slammed into her with growing urgency. Her nails clawed at the wall. When she came he could feel it like a flash of heat, even before she contracted around him. As much as he would have liked to hold out longer, the force of her orgasm pushed him too far. He held her tight and after a few more thrusts he tensed and came, shuddering as he shot his come into her in several bursts.

 

"Wow," Anya finally said, sounding shaky.

 

"Yeah, wow," Spike echoed, sounding just as breathless.

 

 

Ten minutes later, after a quick shower, they were busy tidying up the bathroom and discussing more mundane matters, like her birthday.

 

"That party of yours, the official one, will there be wall-to-wall vomiting?" Spike asked as he wiped the floor and wrung out the cloth.

 

"I shouldn't hope so," Anya said indignantly, putting her dripping dressing gown on a coat hanger and hanging it up over the tub. "I expect you to behave and buy me a nice present. One I can actually show off with in front of our friends."

 

"I guess I could make an exception, just to please you. On both accounts." Spike gave her a fond kiss. "Go on, luv, go to bed. It's late. I'll do the bathroom. Just this once, mind you. So, don't get any ideas."

 

"Are you sure?" she asked. "Because I don't usually do things by halves."

 

"Absolutely."

 

He watched her leave and smiled. He couldn't see his reflection in the mirror, but he was pretty sure he looked like the proverbial cat who'd gotten the canary.

 

 

 

>>> Part 34

 

<<< Part 32

 

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Author's Note: When mentioning the baby-eating bishop of Bath and Wells, who will "do anything to anything - animal, vegetable or mineral" Spike is of course referencing the English TV series Blackadder. One of Anya's lines I also stole from that series. It was just too fitting...

 

Incidentally, I wrote a little Spike/Anya scene that fits into this story and takes place a few days after their almost-fling at the Bronze, i.e. in Season 4. It can be found here:

 

Epilogue