Tara Bad

That Warren geek did a good job on this 'bot. Walks, talks, looks like the Slayer. One minor difference - the Buffy-bot likes me. Stupid sodding slayer.

"Spike? I miss you. Are you down here?"

Came to get something, what was it? Oh yeah...

"Spike?" She's pushy. Whatever.

"Just a second, love. On m'way." I grab what I was looking for and haul m'self back up into the crypt proper. Damn. She's bloody starkers already. Guess she knows what she wants. And, well, this is how it ended yesterday, guess she's getting a jump on things. "You were supposed to wait, pet."

She pouts. "Are you mad at me?" Then she smiles. "Are you going to punish me?"

Twisted little playmate I have here, isn't she? More fun that way. "I might." I give her a sly grin and she skitters away.

I chase her around the crypt - she doesn't run very fast; she's not really trying to get away. She leaps over the concrete bier and rolls over the green armchair, turns on me and charges straight for me. I move at the last minute, but she moves with me and tackles me to the floor. We roll into the bier and she lands on top of me, kissing me. She peels my clothes off and starts licking my chest and rubbing her hands over me. I just fold my arms behind my head and relax.

She doesn't like that. She wants interaction, she pulls at my arms and rolls us so she's beneath me and I lean in and kiss her softly. I've wanted to do this for so long, I almost don't know where to begin. I sigh. Okay, yes, this is just a robot, but she's close enough. So close. She's not warm, but she's kind and gentle and attentive - oh so attentive. It's all I really want. I settle behind her, on my side, my arm draped over her.

"You're evil," she says to me.

"And that excites you?"

"It excites me, it terrifies me. I try so hard to resist you and I can't."

"Yeah?" And I have to smile.

"Darn your sinister attraction."

"Are you afraid of me?" I ask, wanting to know.

"Yes." I can tell she's smiling.

I whisper to her, "You know I can't bite you."

"I think you can. I think you can if I let you, and I want to let you. I want you to bite me and devour me until there's no more."

"Like this?" And I give her neck a little nip.

"Oh, Spike, devour me!" She always talks to me with that big smile on her face when she does or says something she knows I like. It's nice.

"All right." I shift so she's beneath me again and I'm looking right into her eyes.

"Spike, I can't help myself. I love you."

"You're mine, Buffy," I growl softly and lean in to kiss her.

"Should I start this program over?"

"Shh! No programs. Don't use that word. Just be Buffy."

Bugger. Why'd she have to say that? It kills the mood when she says things like that.

****

Well, that was a boat-load of laughs. Stupid Buffy - no, the 'bot version - wanted to go patrolling. So, fine. We go. She stakes vamps. We come back and she starts making new stakes and polishing the axe in my weapons chest. She didn't do that yesterday. What is wrong with her? Had to turn the bloody thing off for a bit. Wanker Warren. Gonna have to talk to him if this keeps up.

Good thing the 'bot's turned off and in the basement. Tara's here again.

"Something I can do for you, love?" I ask, drinking from the glass in m'hand. Blood - not warm, but nourishing. Better than having to eat rats.

She stares at the floor, then glances up at me. Guess she's not here for the sex. "Spike," she pauses and folds her arms over her chest, "I don't know why I came here," she says, shaking her head and turning to go.

"Something wrong, pet?"

"No. I'm gonna go." And she leaves. That's it. She just leaves. I really do not understand her sometimes. Most of the time.

Guess I'm gonna have to find something amusing to do with my time. Yes, time to play with my new toy.

I go wake her up and tell her to come upstairs to play... Slayer time.

****

Bollocks. This bloody sucks. Hurts like the devil too. Oh, no. No. No. No. This is so far from kinky sex… well, okay, not that far, but it's not the enjoyable kind. That Glory-bitch sent some hobbits or whatever to m'crypt to kidnap me and drag me to her posh little digs here so she could tell me I'm not the Key then proceed to torture the hell out of me to figure out who is. So, now, I'm lying here, in pain, not telling. Fortunately, I'm mostly unconscious too.

Spoke too soon. Hell bitch is back and… unzippin' the fly of m'jeans. Bugger, was so much nicer when it was Buffy - even if it was just a robot - and that was all before Harris came in and ruined the mood. Just for reference, it is not at all comfortable to lay on a bed with your hands bound behind you. M'knuckles are diggin' into my spine and she's puttin' pressure on my thighs, pushin' my hips down harder onto m'hands. Little pain never bothered me before, it's just more fun when both parties are agreeable to the act.

"You're gonna tell me who the Key is. You know that, don't you?" she growls at me, tracing long, dangerous fingernails up my leg and into my pants. Shit. I clench my teeth and close my eyes. She can't make me tell her anything. "Precious," she purrs with a hiss on the 's', "I just want you to tell me this one little thing. Then I'll let you go." She wraps her fingers around my dick and gives a squeeze - not painful, but not really pleasant. Of course, that doesn't mean I can control what's going on down there. Damn thing has a mind of its own.

"I'm not tellin' you anything," I snarl, trying to keep the involuntary moan from escaping my throat when she strokes me. Bloody hell, that is so not fair.

"Oh, I think you will," she says as she leans down, close to m'crotch and I can't watch her anymore. I close m'eyes and turn m'head away from her. This is so bloody wrong. "Now, now, Precious." She reaches up and latches onto m'chin, yanking my head back to center, forcing me to look at her. "You're supposed to observe, Precious. Watch me. What I do. And tell me who the Key is." She stretches up and licks across m'lips, then tries to choke me with her tongue down my throat. Don't breathe, bitch, you can't choke me. Then she's kissing me like we're supposed to be lovers or something. She is one twisted bitch.

"Get off me," I snarl at her. I just want her to go away. Hell, killing me would be better than this. Just get off.

She slams her fist into my jaw and my head snaps to the right so hard I hear my neck crack. Bloody hell that hurts. "Look here, Precious, I make the rules. Me. You do what I tell you. And right now, I'm telling you to tell me who the key is!" She grabs my face, her thumb digging into one cheek, her fingers digging into the other, holding tight enough to break the bones in my face, but not quite doing so. "Tell me!" She jabs a finger from her other hand into my chest - pokin' more holes in me. The pain is damn near unbearable - so much so that I have no choice but to scream. Then everything goes black.

Ah… the black abyss of unconsciousness. If only it would last. It's the only way to block the pain, but it's only temporary.

When I wake up, I'm still on the bed, my pants are still open, but I hurt like hell… and not just from her punches and pokes. Bitch nailed me while I was out - how crude is that? Rode pretty hard from the bruises and pain in m'legs and hips. Shit. I take a quick glance down to m'crotch and bloody hell if she didn't bite me. Hope I don't catch anything. I let m'head fall back onto the bed. I'm not in the most comfortable position, but at least she's not sittin' on me anymore.

Someone remind me to stop doing that…

"Hello, Precious." Someone make her stop calling me that. "All wakey now? Good." She leaps onto the bed and lands straddling m'hips, her hands pressing against the wounds in my chest. "Ready to talk? No? Well, guess we'll just have to play some more. You're pretty good, you know. Even when you're asleep." A wicked, sick smile dances over her face. Bitch thinks she's bad. Hell, all she did was fuck me. That's not 'bad'. That, however, is… "Mmm. C'mon, Precious," she cooes, her face hovering over my dick. Shit. "You know you want to play with a god." Superiority complex much? She strokes and pets and grabs and pulls and ow! Dammit. It is attached, you know.

****

Hell-bitch didn't like that 'little Spike' wouldn't play nice, so she strung my ass up, hanging me from the ceiling and started slicing at me with sharp objects. Still told her to sod off. She didn't like my conversation and gave me a kick. Had to drop m'self down a damned elevator shaft, but lucky me, the Slayer (yeah, the real one) showed up to kick some Glory-minion ass and all I had to do was pass out. Bloody hell my body aches. I think I'm in m'crypt, though I'm not sure how I got here. Doesn't much matter really, I'm too bloody tired to care.

****

"Spike?" A soft voice enters the crypt with the dark of night through the open door. Tara, glistening beneath the moonlight because she's painted herself in body glitter, stands with one leg bent and one arm stretched up high along the door. Damn sexy if I could actually see it.

I try to sit up, slowly, and manage to get there - body's stiff from lying here all day. "'Lo, love."

"Oh my God! They… they said you'd been beat up, but they didn't say i-it was this bad." Sexy pose gone, she trots over to me and gently touches a hand to my face. I flinch at her warm fingers on my skin and the slight pain where they met a bruise. "I'm sorry. Oh, I'm so sorry, Spike. Is there anything I can do?"

So sweet. So tender. So nice. Can I keep her? Since I can't have my robot anymore. I shake my head, slowly. "I'm okay, pet."

She shakes her head back at me. "No, you're really not." She brushes a hand over my hair, smoothing it down a bit, or trying to. "God, what did she do to you?" She leans in and kisses me lightly, on the lips. I can't stand it; I pull her to me with one hand, holding my balance with the other and ravage her mouth. I hadn't planned to do it that way, but I need her, now. However she'll give herself. I'll take anything. Damn, I sound so needy. Bugger that - I am sodding needy - just got the ever-livin' shit beat outta me by a hell god. Gimme a sodding break!

Shyly, she pulls away and stares at the floor. "Spike. I-I'm not h-here for that. I just c-came to see how you were."

My hand falls back to the bier, by my side. "Yeah. Probably shoulda asked first."

"Oh, no. It's okay. I just, I just wanted to tell you that, um, that... dammit, Spike." She steps away, turns her back to me. I wish she'd just tell me whatever it is. When she gets all shy-like, mostly, I just get annoyed.

"Tara," my voice cracks and I cough and wheeze and hell, I haven't done that in years. She's near me again, rubbing my back and shoulder; my face and hair. "You don't have to stay. I'll heal. Really."

"I don't want you to be alone."

"Run on back if you need to."

She shakes her head again. "Come on. Get down." She tugs lightly at my arm and tries to support some of my weight as I slide down off the bier. My legs feel like rubber and my head is spinning. "Can you make it to the chair?"

"Think we'd better aim for the floor. Don't think the chair's a viable option just now."

"You always open up your internal thesaurus when you've been used as a punching bag?" she asks, doing a good job of helping me get my very very sore and aching body to the floor.

I grunt and growl and try not to say anything nasty to her as my bruises come in contact with the thin blanket covering the hard concrete floor. "Prevents me from uttering asinine and harmful things to people when I really want them to help me." I squeeze my eyes shut and stiffen my body as best I can and ease my back against the bier. At least I'm sitting up and don't have to use my sore arms to hold me that way. Shit.

"I'll be right back," she says to me and rushes off, back out into the night. Where the hell is she going? And if she's gonna, why'd she leave my ass on the floor? Concrete is not soft and this blanket is older than I am, I think, so it's thinner than paper. Dammit.

True to her word, she returns shortly and she is a goddess! She has a basin of warm water (Where did she get that? Sod it, she's here and that's enough.) and a soft cloth and kneels next to me to begin cleaning my wounds. She's so gentle, so attentive - wiping with the soft cloth, then kissing the scrapes, scratches and cuts that aren't too deep. More kisses to the purple bruises and she's even feeling for broken bones. Thanks, love, but they'll heal on their own. Nothing you can do for 'em.

"Spike," she looks into my eyes, "is there anything else you need?"

"A mattress and a pillow," I grind out through clenched teeth because I just leaned my head back too hard and nearly cracked m'damned skull on the bier. Shit.

"Uh, I did bring a pillow and a blanket, but no mattress. Sorry. D-do you want me to g-get one?"

I shake my head, slowly. "No." I turn to look at her. "You in a hurry to get back, love?" I ask. She shakes her head 'no' and gives me a worried look. "Would you," I look away, lowering my head. "I just, would you... dammit."

"Do you want me to stay here for a while?"

I nod. "Please? Not all night, just for a bit. You can leave whenever you want."

"Yeah, I'll stay." She kisses my temple, my mouth, my nose, my chin, my neck. She doesn't need to do any of that. It's gotten to the point where I can't tell if it's Tara or the demon. Doesn't much matter anymore anyway, she's not gonna come by for the 'fun stuff' anymore - she told me as much.

She helps me lay down, then retrieves the pillow and blanket she brought. Bless her. The only thing better would be if she had the vampire equivalent of ibuprofen - human blood - that I could have. Can't bite her - so that's out. Rest'll do though. She lays down next to me, on her side, more in front of me, I guess, and I drape an arm across her middle. She sidles in close, gently, and whispers something soothing to me. It's nice and moments later, the darkness of sleep comes and it is so very nice.

****

Woke up to an empty blanket. I know I told her she didn't have to stay, but it would have been nice to wake up to a warm body. Anyway - still hurt like hell and wish it would stop, but not much I can do. Bugger this. I'm going back to sleep.

Part XI