What am I doing? I seem to wonder that a lot lately. As I creep through the cemetery I realize this is the first time I have sought them out. Wearing tight black leather pants and a sleek black camisole, I know I am dressed to seduce. I must look like a whore.

Nearing the crypt, I think that I must be crazy. No one has found out about my nightly sessions with Spike and Angelus and I don't want them to. Giles would probably lock me up. I know my Mother would. Willow and Xander would be disgusted. They wouldn't understand how I could love being fucked and degraded by two vicious vampires. How could they? I don't even understand it.

But as I near the door and see them, sprawled out on the cold stone floor, their bodies indolently beautiful in the moonlight, I know that there is something deep inside me that needs this darkness. That needs their flesh and their fangs. That needs to be over powered. They're entwined together, Angelus stroking Spike's chest as he murmurs to him. It gives me a strange feeling to see them this way.

I am surprised that I'm not weaker lately, considering the amount of blood they have sucked from my veins. But if anything, I am stronger and more vital than ever. It's as if I have been reborn. I wonder if they will want to turn me. What would I say? Sure, make me into a vampire? Wouldn't that be a joke. The Slayer, a vampire. Oh God.

Opening the heavy door, I feel a rush between my thighs as they look up and grin lazily at me. Spike's eyes brighten, and it's tender, because he loves me. I know this and I love it to. Almost as much as the sex. Not quite though. Not quite as much as the sweat and the moans and the fullness.

Spike is the first to rise. Angelus continues to stare at me from the floor. His eyes burn as he purrs, “You seek us out now, Buff. You must be dying for it.”

It's meant to hurt me. Make me feel like a slut, and in some ways I do. But I don't care, because all day I have thought of nothing but these two beings, and I want them inside me. I want to be OWNED.

Spike grabs my arms and pulls me forward. “C'mere honey,” he growls and then kisses me, his cool lips ravaging my mouth, his hands gripping my ass. Angelus rises, standing behind me and then bending his head to nip at my shoulder.

Moaning, my head lolls back and I am suddenly desperate. My tiny body is trapped between them and it makes me feel like a Goddess.

Spike rips open my top and his hands palm my breasts as Angelus slides my leather pants from my legs and from behind, thrusts three fingers into my center. Wetness drips from me, I can feel it, and I'm whimpering as Spike bends to tongue my breasts and I ride Angelus' fingers.


God, what am I doing? WHAT AM I DOING? This is crazy, certifiably, and I should care. But I am greedy for this, hungry for this. It's an addiction. I know it, and I admit it, but I don't mind. I should be out patrolling. Not standing between two vampires, feeling their cool flesh and their hard fingers and their wet mouths. This isn't me. This isn't Buffy. This is some primitive creature that was hiding and now has taken over. Let it. Let this being live inside me.

Throwing me down on the floor, Angelus snarls with pure animal lust and shrugs off his pants. He reaches out a lazy hand and pulls his childe toward him, his eyes locking with mine as they kiss. I watch, naked and wet on the cold stone floor of the crypt as Angelus caresses Spike's cock, and the younger vampire groans, leaning into his Grand-Sire with adoration.

I want to touch myself, but I don't, because it seems so wrong.

I'm no longer a golden girl. I'm not Angel's saviour, I'm not Riley's perfect person that he put on a pedestal…I'm a being that I don't even recognize. I'm ancient and hot and animalistic. I seek out darkness and feed of it.

Angelus crouches beside me and runs a hand down my waist, smiling at me, his eyes clear and cruel. “Slayer…if only people could see you now.”

Spike gets down beside me and draws me into his arms, kissing my mouth with passion, and murmuring to me. He likes to be tender sometimes, and it makes me cry. This is Spike, and I shouldn't be in his embrace. But it doesn't hurt as much as being with Angelus', because with Spike's Grand-Sire, I am reminded that who I really want is not here. Well, he is, but not in the form I want.

Angelus growls and tears me away from Spike. He is possessive, and I am still surprised he shared me. He thinks of me as his. Sitting me on my lap he takes me from behind and Spike quickly creeps over and shoves into me from the front. They usually take me this way now. And I love it. It is so close and full. Every part of me except my mouth has a cock in it, and I love to feel like this. So open and invaded and raw and stretched and…god…I'm moaning as Spike kisses me, his tongue sliding over my lips with cool heat.

Angelus grunts as he slams into me, and Spike moves slowly, obviously wanting to prolong it, his hands tender as he curves them over my breasts and face. Angelus is never tender. I know he hates me, even as he fucks me. I know he wishes he could kill me, and I think he would, if he didn't like being inside me so much.

Sometimes I wish it was Angel that was coming inside me, that my insides were eating up with such voracious hunger, but then I remember that Angel would never fuck me like this. He thinks he loves me too much to do this. I am not someone he could ever sully. Or treat like this. Maybe that's a good thing. Or maybe that's why he left.

Am I punishing myself by being here? Am I trying to prove something? Am I just a sadist? Or do I truly love this moment when they both bite deep and I can pretend it is two years ago and I am under the man I am trying to save. I can pretend it is his back I am gripping, his fangs that are deep in my throat, that are pumping the blood out of my flesh, his voice that is groaning against my ear.

Maybe I'm just seeking something more.

Seeking what I have never had.

Darkness.

Emptiness.

Silence.

Death.

end

drowning