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Body Shots

Body Shots
By NautiBitz
"Gotta Have Faith"

Info and Author's Notes: See introduction.

Chapter summary: Vampire quality time is cut short by a surprise visitor.

"Spike, we need to talk."

Spike had been at Angel's for three nights, taking full advantage of all of the amenities. At the moment, he was perusing Wesley's Herald Tribune and sipping a cup of Angel's best blood. "'Bout what, Peaches?"

"Will you not call me that?"



Spike sighed, put the paper away, and sat up on the couch. "Alright, talk."

"Buffy told me this chip is changing you."

Spike looked at his feet.

"I don't believe that for a second."

He eyed Angel suspiciously. "You don't."

"Science can't change you. Only you can."

"Oh, bugger this." He got up and walked away.

"This chip won't give you a soul, Spike, but it's giving you a choice. Either you spend the rest of your days whining about it, or you give in and fight the good fight."

"Yeah? And why on earth would I want to do that?"

Angel looked him in the eye. "I think we both know the answer to that."

He played it safe. "Sorry, but you'll have to be more specific..."

"Um? Help?" Cordelia's voice.

Spike sighed in relief. Saved by the... wild-eyed brunette holding a large knife to Cordelia's throat?

"Give me the knife," Angel said, moving with extreme caution, "Faith."


She recognized Spike as he stood up to get a look. "Oh, hey, Billy-boy. What're you doin' here?"

"Workin' on my tan," Spike returned flirtatiously. She was cute. No wonder Buffy hated her so much.

Angel looked from Spike to Faith. "You know each other?"

"Oh yeah," Faith said. "We go way back. A whole two weeks. How's it hangin?"

Spike adjusted his pants. "None the worse for wear."

"You two..." Angel trailed off and shook his head.

"Okay, as gross as this little chat is," Cordelia said, "Can she let me go now?"

"Give me the knife," Angel said again.

"Hm... let's see. No."

"Love, we're all friends here." Spike approached her confidently. "Well, at least you and me are. Set the bint free and let's go have ourselves some real fun."

Faith studied his expression. "I thought you were Buffy-trained now."

He mashed his lip. "You thought wrong."

"Good." She cast Cordelia aside. "'Cause I hate vamps like that."

"Preaching to the choir."

She took his outstretched hand.

"Uh, gramps, we're gonna go paint the town red," Spike said with a wink. "Don't wait up."

Expressionless, Angel watched them leave.

Cordelia asked as she rubbed her throat, "What the heck?"

Angel said, "Spike just saved you."

* * *

As soon as they got outside, Faith shoved Spike against a wall. "What's your game, Blondie? Tryin' to get me on your side?"

"My side?" he croaked through a blocked windpipe. "I thought you were already there."

"I mean the Buffy-Angel crew."

"You think I'm with them? Please!"

"Well I know you got that chip. And I know you're in love with one of 'em."

"Yeah. But Angel and I would never work out."

With a cackle, Faith loosened her grip. "You'd make a wicked hot couple, though. Wouldn't mind bein' the meat in that sandwich."

"Let's not go there," Spike said with a cryptic smile, then followed her as she walked. Fishing a pack of Marlboros out of his jacket pocket, he asked, "So what's this about? Comin' here and terrorizing the commonfolk?"

"I don't know. Bored, I guess." She shook her head when he offered her a smoke.

"Good a reason as any," he shrugged.

"Plus I hate them. Fuckers ruined my life."

"Yeah," he lit his cigarette, "Me too."

"So, Angel doesn't have you set up for some kinda demon rehab?"

"Well, I think that's his plan. But I'm just here for the perks." He pulled two items out of his pocket: Angel's car keys and Wesley's wallet.

"Nice!" She laughed raucously. "Any cash?"

"Not a nickel." Cig in his mouth, he dealt her five credit cards and held Wesley's I.D. beside his face. "Thirsty?"

* * *

"Body shot," Faith said, sprinkling salt on Spike's neck.

He shivered as her hot tongue lathed his cool skin.

After sucking on her lime, she said, "Missed a spot."

"Faith, what are you doing?" he drawled, when he knew very well that she was sticking her tongue in his ear.

"Think I came all the way out here not to get my freak on?" she murmured into him. "I haven't had a good lay in... two weeks."

"I remember." He smiled and gently pushed her off. "But I don't think this is a good idea."

"You 'don't think this is a good idea'? Is that William the Fierce and Bloody talking, or Spike the Chip-whipped?"

"Hey, I'm still bad," his ego gruffed. "Chip or no chip."

"Y'know, I've had somethin' like a chip in my head all my life. Never stopped me."

He chuckled. "You really think you're all big and bad now, don't you?"

"Oh, I am," Faith said, pulling something wooden and deadly out of her jeans. "I may not be your precious Buff, but I can still stake you in a heartbeat."

"You threatening me?"

"I don't know. I'm unstable. I never know what I'm gonna do next."

Spike mulled it over. Faith was beautiful. And hot as hell. And he was being threatened. And it wasn't like they hadn't done it before... sort of.

Plus, Buffy wasn't his. Probably never would be his. And why was he so worried about Buffy finding out anyway?

"Right. Let's get out of here."

* * *

"I still think the two of them together?" Cordelia said to Wesley as she put the phone to her ear. "Bad idea. Angel Investigations, we help the help--"

"The two of who together?"

"Hello? ...Buffy? Is that y--"

"Yeah. Cordelia, hi. The two of who together?"

"Oh," Cordelia said, sitting down at her desk. "Spike and Faith, birds of a feather, hanging out together or whatever, I mean, churning waves of nausea aside, in what universe could that be a good thi... Hello?"

On the other end of the line, Buffy was packing a bag.

* * *

"Yeah, you got it baby," Faith said to the head between her thighs. "Right there."

He licked dutifully until she clamped her legs around his ears and arched into his mouth.

"Yeah," she cried out hoarsely as he swallowed a rush of her come.

Spike knew he should be ecstatic. He'd bedded two willing slayers, more or less, in the span of two weeks, and it wasn't even his Centennial. But something kept nagging at him.

He sized up this dark slayer. She was sturdy, more voluptuous... than the other one.

Nag, thy name is Buffy.

"Whatchya waitin' for, cowboy?" Faith said, gasping. "Hop on."

Shaking his head to extract Buffy's image from his skull, he climbed up Faith's body and moved to kiss her.

She pushed him away with a sour look. "No more kissing. Just do me, alright?"

Spike obliged. At least, he tried to oblige.

He looked down.

Faith followed his gaze. "Oh, you gotta be fuckin' kidding me!" She shoved him to the floor.

"Love, I--"

"I can't believe this shit!"

"This never--"

"Oh, spare me! You're a fuckin' vampire, you'll fuck anything that moves -- and you can't get it up for me?"

"It's not you--"

"No, it's not me. It's Buffy. It's always fucking Buffy!"

Spike hung his head in shame.

"Get the fuck out of here." She threw his clothes at him. "NOW!"

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