But I have a week to contemplate so no fussing about that right now. Instead, I'll post the ficlet that I submitted for this last one.
TITLE: Best Laid Plans
RATING: R, for mild sexual content
SETTING: Takes place during Lover's Walk
LENGTH: 990 words
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, which is a shame because usually we're nicer to them than Joss was.
When the chime went off over the shop’s door, Spike slunk back into the shadows, unwilling to be seen when he’d only just sorted out his plan. Wouldn’t do for someone to peg him and go running off to blab to Small, Blonde, and Bitchy. She was the reason he was in this mess in the first place. It would be just like her to find some way to bollocks his life up. She had a frightening knack for it.
“Got a shopping list for you, Endora.” Paper slapped against the counter. “And make it quick. Told Giles I’d get his shit on my free period.” Spike peered around the edge of the shelves in time to see the brunette shoot the clerk a mocking grin. “Can’t make it look too obvious I’m ditching school.”
So the Watcher had a new go-to gal. This one had a sense of style.
The first sway of her rounded hips got him hard. He hadn’t had a woman since leaving Dru behind with her chaos demon, but a prize like this one would make his comeback to the world of tits and blood worth it.
He tilted his head as his gaze raked down her backside.
With a detour through that luscious bum first, of course.
So caught up in ogling the girl, he realized too late she’d angled closer until her hand was at his throat and he had a magic wand poking into his ass where she shoved him against the shelves.
“Didn’t know I was on your wish list.” Curling his tongue behind his teeth, Spike ducked his lashes to get a better look down her generous cleavage. “I’m touched.”
Before she could react – because they always reacted – Spike grabbed her wrist and broke her hold, twisting her arm behind her back as he dragged her from the front of the store toward the basement. Her musky perfume cut through the remaining fog of his hangover, making his mouth water in anticipation of sinking both fangs and cock into her soft flesh. Maybe he should go check who else the Watcher had hanging about. If the old man’s taste had improved this much, it might even be worth a run-in with Buffy.
His first inkling that something was off came as soon as the basement door clicked shut. That was when the bitch suddenly headbutted him hard enough to send Spike flying down the stairs, crashing into a heap at the bottom.
“It’s a little early for me…” She hopped over the railing and grabbed a mop, snapping it effortlessly over her knee. “…but a good slay always works up my appetite. Just in time for lunch.” Her dark eyes danced over his body, lingering on the bulge in his crotch. “And you look like more than a mouthful.”
If his head had been clear, he would have put the clues together far sooner than the point where the girl was advancing with a makeshift stake in hand.
The Watcher. Grabbing too fast for Spike to block. And the ultimate giveaway…
Spike threw his head back and howled in glee at the ceiling. “It’s about bloody time!” For the first time, the girl hesitated, frowning as he jabbed a finger at her. “Slayer, right?”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
He whooped again at the confirmation. “Go on. Tell me whoever did the self-righteous bitch in made it hurt. I’m due for a spot of good news.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“There’s only One, right? And since you’re standing here all Chosen, that means Dru was talkin’ bollocks. Can’t see Summers floating around me if the bint’s dead, now can she?” He froze as an awful thought occurred to him. “Unless she’s a ghost. Oh, bloody hell, she’s haunting me!”
He sank onto a nearby box, aware that the Slayer was now openly smirking at his devastation. He didn’t need a leprosy spell. He needed a soddin’ exorcism.
“Newsflash, Blondie. B’s alive, kicking, and as full of herself as ever.”
The disdain in the Slayer’s voice combined with the relieving news drew Spike’s gaze back up. “You wouldn’t be playin’ with me now, would you?”
The glint in her eye made his cock stir again. “My kind of playing’s a hell of a lot more fun than a few word games. That’s B’s bag.” The corner of her mouth lifted. “And I’m not her.”
She hadn’t moved, and now the makeshift stake dangled from her hand. Standing, Spike tilted his head as he took slow steps toward her. “No, you most definitely are not.” His original plan was out the window – no way was he in any way sober enough to take on a Slayer and survive the fight – but that didn’t stop him from kicking and knocking the wood from her grip. She retaliated by trying to sweep his legs out from beneath him, but Spike anticipated it and used her momentum to spin her around and press her to the wall, grinding his renewed erection into her ass.
“What’s your name, luv?”
She squirmed, but all it did was make him harder. “Faith.”
Spike chuckled. “Guess bein’ a cocktease comes as part of the Slayer package.”
There was a moment of hesitation. Then a powerful hand slithered between their bodies and palmed his length through his jeans.
“I don’t tease.”
He inhaled her scent, storing the memory away. It would be perfect for wanking to later on. “I’ll remember that for next time, pet.”
Her sudden flare of lust assaulted his senses, but before he let it distract him, Spike knocked her head against the wall, then turned and fled for the sewer tunnel.
He ran for five minutes before realizing there were no sounds of pursuit. Rearranging his cock, Spike grinned in spite of the wrench in his plans. Two Slayers. One of them didn’t like the other.
The Hellmouth just got a tad more interesting.