Written from a prompt: Person A is thinking sexually graphic or generally odd thoughts and suddenly panics and thinks, "If you're a mind reader, cough right now."

Person B coughs.

Takes place just after the Season Five episode, The Replacement, then goes AU.

Side Effects

Chapter One – Slimed

Spike trudged along behind Buffy, occasionally shaking more of the smelly blood and slime mixture from his coat. He'd managed to squeeze most of it out of his hair and had wiped his face and neck clean with the hem of his t-shirt.

Buffy was drenched in the goo from head to toe, and had been complaining about that fact since they'd crawled out of the demon's lair. She stomped along the sidewalk, muttering under her breath. "Look at my shirt! It's ruined! My skirt is torn, and these boots were new! Stupid explody demon. This junk better come out of my hair, or I'm gonna..."

Spike snorted, "You're gonna what, Slayer? That demon can't get any deader."

She stopped, stomping her foot down hard, then turned slowly to face him, glaring angrily through the splotches of slime all over her face. "It can't… but you can. So keep talking, Spike. I dare you."

He held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Hey now, don't think it's quite cricket to threaten the bloke who volunteered to…"

Buffy screeched, "Volunteered?! You made me pay you before you'd even get out of your chair!"

Spike took a step back. "Well… yeah. Have to pay for blood somehow, don't I? Not like I can get a job, is it? And I'm not 'bout to put myself at risk for a lark, Slayer. You want me fightin' demons for you, I'll need some dosh. Think I earned it, too." He motioned to a patch of wetness on his sleeve. "I got slimed just like you did."

"Barely! You only got it on your head and your stupid coat! I've got it everywhere, Spike! Everywhere! It's even in my mouth! Do you have any idea how gross that is?"

Spike's anger flared and he took a step forward, his hands clenching into fists. "It's not my fault the demon exploded! Watcher told you not to jab your sword into its belly. You were meant to cut its head off!"

Buffy took a menacing step toward him. "And I would have if you'd been doing the job I PAID you to do. You were supposed to be distracting it so I could get into position, but noooo… you were playing around over in the corner, so I took the only shot I had available!"

Spike closed the distance between them. "I wasn't 'playin' around in the corner,' you self-righteous bint! I was holdin' off that thing's bloody minions! Seven of 'em! Tryin' to keep 'em off you!"

They stood glaring each other down, both breathing hard through their noses for several minutes before Buffy huffed and turned around. "Whatever. Let's just go tell Giles it's dead so I can go home and take a shower."

She started walking again and Spike stared after her for a few seconds then mumbled under his breath as he started walking, "Ungrateful bitch."

"I heard that."

Spike mocked her in a whiny voice, "I heard that."

"Shut up, Spike."

The next ten minutes were spent in silence. Buffy's stomping had slowly tapered off into normal walking while Spike's footfalls were so quiet that Buffy had glanced over her shoulder several times to see if he was still there.

She did it again and he grumbled, "You can quit eyeballin' me anytime, Slayer. 'M still here."

She muttered, "Probably staring at my ass, too, you pig."

His steps faltered just a bit. He'd actually been admiring her legs, but now… His eyes tracked up the backs of her slime-covered thighs and came to rest on her backside. The slime had drenched the fabric of what had been a flippy little skirt and it was now molded to her flesh, showcasing every movement of her buttocks as she walked. 'She does have a delectable little arse. Wouldn't mind takin' a bite out of that.'

Buffy's head whipped around. "What?"

Spike stopped, startled by the sudden motion. "I didn't say anything."

She narrowed her eyes, considering him for a moment, then turned and started walking. "Well, keep doing that and come on. We're almost there."

XXXX

Buffy stood under the spray, letting the hot water melt the gunk out of her hair. God, it stunk. Like rotten eggs and sour milk that had been left in a hot car all day. She soaped a washcloth and started swiping it over her skin, starting at her forehead and working down. At least the stuff washed off pretty easily. She slid the cloth over her backside and paused as the words 'delectable arse' floated across her brain.

She shivered a little. The words had been barely a whisper when they'd been walking down the sidewalk, and she hadn't been sure she'd even heard them at all, but now… No. Spike hadn't said anything, she was sure of it, because he hated her guts… and her 'arse.' There was no way he'd find her in any way 'delectable.' Not in a million years. Besides, she hated him right back… even though she did think he was kind of cute… okay… more like freaking hot. But evil. Totally evil.

She closed her eyes, her mind traveling back to earlier that day when she'd gone to Spike's crypt to get his help with the demon. He'd been sprawled in his chair, wearing only a ratty pair of jeans, and her eyes had traveled over him, sort of getting stuck on the muscles rippling across his abdomen. She'd had time to think, 'How can he be so evil and so damn yummy at the same time?' before he'd looked up from his book. Thankfully, she'd managed to drag her eyes away from his body and he hadn't noticed her staring.

Someone knocked on the door and Buffy startled violently, dropping the washcloth. It landed in the bottom of the tub with a wet plop and Buffy raised that hand to clutch at her racing heart. Riley's voice drifted through the door. "Buffy? I just got back. You almost done?"

She swallowed. "Yeah, um… give me ten minutes." She bent and picked up the washcloth, guilt washing over her along with the hot water. She'd come to her mom's house to shower so she wouldn't have to explain the horrible stench to the other people in her dorm, but she'd completely forgotten that Riley was coming back tonight and they'd already planned to stay here because Joyce had taken Dawn on a buying trip. The guilt amped up a notch or ten. Actually… she'd completely forgotten about Riley altogether. Hadn't even given him a passing thought since she'd gone to Spike for help because Riley was out of town. Instead of anticipating her boyfriend's arrival and the night of sex he'd been planning all week, she'd been standing there thinking about another guy… while naked! An evil guy. Naked evil guy thinking! She tipped her head back with a sigh. And now she was thinking about Spike being naked. She was such a bad girlfriend.

She resumed her washing, trying to wrestle the guilt under control while also trying to 'get in the mood' for Riley. Truth be told, while she enjoyed having sex with him, she hardly ever climaxed, and when she did, they weren't really all that earth-shattering. It's not that he wasn't good at it or enthusiastic about it, he was – at least she thought so, it wasn't like she had a lot of experience in that area – but it just seemed like she needed… more. She'd heard other girls talking about their favorite positions – Riley would only do missionary or girl-on-top – and how their boyfriends would go down on them – Riley's mouth had never been any further south than her breasts – and she sometimes wondered if she was missing out. Plus, she couldn't really let herself go with Riley for fear of breaking him. She'd lost control for a few seconds a week or so before the 'haunted frat house' incident and Riley had squawked like a scalded cat then had curled into a ball, clutching at his groin. Since then, she'd spent most of her sexy-time with him worrying that she was squeezing him too hard and trying to keep herself in check. Forcing herself to hold back didn't make for much pleasure having during their encounters… at least on her end. He seemed to enjoy himself, though, so she tried to take pleasure in his pleasure, but she was usually left lying there tense and unsatisfied while he snored next to her.

She sighed deeply then turned off the shower and stepped out onto the rug, catching her reflection in the mirror over the sink. She turned this way and that, looking at her backside, then frowned and lifted her robe off the hook on the bathroom door, trying really hard not to wonder why Spike not finding her attractive bothered her so much.

XXXX

Spike sat at a table in the back corner, nursing a beer as he watched the young people of Sunnydale gyrate on the Bronze's dance floor. The kids here tonight were mostly college age, sprinkled here and there with a few high school kids out after their curfew. His predator's eyes were quite adept at picking out the weakest members of the herd – the ones most likely to go quietly and not put up a fuss that could draw attention to his activities. Back in the good old days – the pre-chip days – he could spend all night in a club like this one, drinking his fill of blood and booze, and no one would be the wiser… until the trash men came to empty the bins, of course, but by that time, he'd be long gone.

A pale, waifish girl with shiny black hair smiled shyly at him from amongst a group of college girls gathered about ten feet away; a group she'd been on the fringes of all night, not really acknowledged except by the barest of margins. She'd be easy to snare. It would take only a smile and a light brush of his fingertips up her arm, followed by a small compliment whispered huskily into her ear, and she'd follow him anywhere he led, even to her death.

He smiled back at the girl and she blushed prettily. He liked it when they blushed. The rush of hormones made their blood just that much sweeter. He sighed and took a pull from his beer. There'd be no blood for him. Not from her, anyway. Soddin' chip.

She was still watching him when he set the bottle back on the table. He licked his lips and scented a sudden burst of pheromones from the girl. She wanted him. He smiled and twitched his head in a beckoning gesture. Might not get any blood tonight, but maybe he'd get his leg over. Since he'd helped the Slayer kill that demon the other day, sex was pretty much all he could think about, and he'd nearly wanked himself raw. It would be a welcome change to sink into a warm, willing body instead of having to nick yet another bottle of lotion.

The girl stepped toward the table and he rose to meet her, leaning down to speak directly into her ear. He brushed his fingertips lightly up her forearm as he said, "Been noticin' you all night, luv. You're beautiful." She shuddered at his words and his touch and he leaned a little closer, his lips brushing her ear, "Want to go somewhere a little quieter, pet? Get to know each other a bit? Promise I won't bite… unless you ask real nice."

She nodded and he gently took her hand then smiled at her and led her out of the Bronze. He had enough cash left out of what Buffy had paid him to spring for a motel room.

XXXX

Spike rolled onto his back and stretched, enjoying the ache of well-used muscles. The girl he'd led out of the Bronze, her name was Lily, was face down on the mattress next to him. She'd passed out after her last climax – he'd been taking her hard from behind – and now she was sleeping the sleep of the well-shagged. She'd kept up fairly well for a human – the quietest birds were usually the wildest in the sack – although he'd had to be careful not to power his thrusts with his vampire strength so the blasted chip wouldn't fry his brain.

He sat up, scrubbing his hands through his hair as he looked down at his cock. It was still hard even after several orgasms with Lily and a two hour nap. He groaned. He'd made her scream and beg and writhe and claw at his back – he could feel the scratches healing as he sat there – but it wasn't enough. He was still raring to go. He'd been hard for days already, and he'd gone to the Bronze as a distraction and to give his left arm a rest, but the second he'd walked in and had scented all those pheromones wafting to and fro from the press of young, virile humans, his cock had definitely been anything but distracted.

He looked over his shoulder at the sleeping girl, her hair spread out like a fan around her head and her legs still spread wide. Could she stand another go? He turned and reached out, poking at her hip. "Pet?" She didn't move. He tried again, poking a little harder, but not hard enough to set off the chip. "Lily? Luv?" She still didn't move.

He contemplated just using her, sliding into her, unconscious or not, and getting his end away, but then he shook his head. He'd always preferred conscious, willing partners; shagging was a lot more satisfying if the bird – or bloke, he wasn't all that picky – wanted to be getting shagged. Not to say that he hadn't raped, he had – hello… vampire – but if he had his druthers, and no other demons were around to judge his actions, he didn't.

Spike sighed then stood and walked into the bathroom, stopping along the way to fish a bottle of lotion out of his duster. Maybe a long wank would tame the beast, but something in him sincerely doubted it.