Disclaimer: Legal stuff, don't own characters, haven't made any money, this is for entertainment purposes, no profit earned, lawyers go away. –kisses-
POV: Shifts Perspective
Spoiler Alert: There are tidbits from past episodes and Spanderverse: stories.
Notes: Sixth story in the Spanderverse-universe, following “Spanderverse: Confusion of Three”. Everything from the television series through the defeat of Adam also occurred as depicted, in the Spanderverse.
People’s thoughts are depicted in italics. You’ll find emphasis depicted with an underline.
Thanks to the authors of Fanfiction, wherever you may post. It’s probable that I’ve read at least one of your stories somewhere. I apologize for recycling concepts inadvertently from the plentitude of stories I’ve read.
Ch 1: Musings
Spike paced the crypt, his mind a bundle of confusion and his nerves taut with tension. His quick exit from the apparently new abode of Xander and Anya did not sit well with him. He had wanted to get in and mix it up a bit with Toth, but Xander’s alter ego had been all over him getting in the way of any action. At least: any action that would have been acceptable to those present. And that was the rub; the animal-spirited version of Xan was also interested in action, but it wasn’t to do with the threat Toth represented. He hadn't even seen nor spoke to any of the gang in a few days, and he had to admit it was because he was afraid of what Xander might be thinking. He didn't want to crowd the young man when he knew of Xan's phobia over the queer thing. He'd discovered how much any sort of homocentric activity bothered his pal during their post-Dracula talk. Now at least, some animal part of him had been involved in definite non-hetero attentions and Spike was a little worried it would end up spelling the end of what had been a pretty good friendship.
The vampire stopped his energetic pacing to sit atop one of the two stone sarcophagi that inhabited the cold, stone bunker of the ‘Van Grindle’ mausoleum. He lit a cigarette and sucked deeply on the burning nicotine as he tried, without success, to block the images of what had occurred recently. He could still smell the heady scent of a wild Xander permeating his leather coat and his T-shirt. Even the smoky weed of the cancer-stick couldn’t cover the scent. Or maybe it was just his memory playing tricks on him. Sometimes he still thought he could detect traces of Dru's perfume and she hadn't been around in too long for it to be real.
His arms still felt the hard muscles of the young man and Spike’s body- the weight of Xander lying atop his own prone form. He shook his head, trying to clear these thoughts. It wouldn’t do for him to become obsessive on this, in the way that Joyce thought his interest in Buffy might only be obsession.
The tension in his body began to ease with thoughts of Buffy. He imagined that it was she who had thrown her lithe body atop his. Her scent that clung to his hair and her athletic body that was causing the lump in his jeans he couldn’t make go away. Of course, it was Buffy. It was always Buffy.
Did she not somehow capture the heart and spirit of his Grand-poofy-Sire, after all? And wasn’t it her that Spike had immediately grown an intense interest in on first arriving in Sunnydale. In those early days it was just to kill himself a third Slayer, of course. Not to mention the on-going search for the means to cure his Dark Plum that had drawn them here to the Hellmouth in the first place. Still, even in those very early days, it was Buffy’s light that had seeped into his mind, creating in him a need to dominate her.
Spike shook off these thoughts, as well. They were a little too much like what Joyce had said to him. No, of course he wasn’t interested in dominating her anymore. That was when he’d wanted to destroy her. Now, he just wanted her to want him back. There was a way to love there, if he could just find the means.
All thoughts of Buffy and Xander and Spike’s own emotions were forgotten as he heard Harmony call to him from below. Even from where he sat, he could scent Harmony’s sexual need. She must have had a very good night on the prowl indeed to be so lustful.
As he climbed down the rough hewn stone steps leading to his bunker below his crypt, he could see Harmony had already stripped off the skirt and blouse she’d worn that evening. He allowed his eyes to follow the curve of her bra as it struggled to hide her assets from view. Her panties of silk, so sheer it left nothing to the imagination, were hooked in her thumbs as she prepared to strip herself of the garment.
“Spikey, I was so hoping you’d be here,” she said to him. Her eyes were yellow fire, her fangs gleaming in the low luminescence of the few candles still burning in the room.
“A good night, then, luv?”
Harmony’s answer was simply to grab Spike by the shoulders. In one deft move, he found himself flung onto the bed that dominated the cozy space. Before he could ask Harmony any more about what had brought on such a mood, her mouth was on his and her hands were quickly making short work of his tight jeans.
End Ch 1