Warpin’ Time On Tuesday

A/N: Well, this is a semi-songfic, if you can call it that—it’s based on the cult film Rocky Horror Picture Show (and if you haven’t seen it, climb out of that cave, grab a DVD, and sit down and watch the damn thing right now—it is a classic, and has really good moments in it, plus there’s a whole role-playing cult surrounding it.). Just a lighthearted fic, but not for the kiddies.
Rating: NC-17 for the Spuffy and bitey (yes, worked that in too, BION)
Dedicated to the Bloodshedverse Nerd Herd, all members old and new—love you guys.
Disclaimer: Well, if they were mine, I wouldn’t have to put this up, so Joss, they belong to you, just like they always did.


It was a Tuesday in Sunnydale, and the Scoobies gathered at Giles’ for the nightly discussion about the Initiative.

Buffy looked around the living room at her friends and Spike. Out of the tub for once, they allowed him to sit in the front room with the others. Untied. He lounged on the straight-backed chair instead, hips thrusting upward and shoulders flung back, one arm over the back of the chair. Disgusting, she thought, strangely unable to tear her eyes from the sight, and shook her head slightly, but not slight enough that Spike didn’t see it. He curled his tongue behind his teeth, and smirked at her as she glanced his way again.

Willow brought in another plate of guilt cookies, and Spike snagged one as she walked past, earning dirty looks from several directions. Grinning, he bit into it, as she offered the plate to Buffy and Giles, where they sat at the other end of the room. “So, we know basically nothing yet. These men could be from any number of agencies.

“Looked government to me. Security was tight, and if I hadn’t found the vents, they’d’ve got me again.” Spike gestured with his cookie. “Science guys don’t usually have big guns. These blokes had big guns. And combat outfits. Right unnerving, it was.”

“Yes, I would believe so. How did they come to capture you, Spike?” Giles adjusted his glasses, then brought a piece of cookie to his mouth.

Buffy couldn’t concentrate on what he was saying because her body was too busy pumping into overdrive. Willow’s spell had only been a week ago, and she found she was having trouble with her libido since. His voice hypnotized her with its rhythm, in time with the beat of her heart, and she wondered if he did it on purpose. When she saw his tongue coiled on the back of his teeth in his sexy grin, she knew he did.

She realized he asked her a question, and she shook her head. “What? What did you say?”

“Oh, let’s do the time warp again.” He rolled his eyes at her. “Do we have to go through all that again, Slayer, because you can’t stop daydreaming?”

“Time warp again? What is that?” She eyed him suspiciously. “Giles, what is he talking about?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never seen Rocky Horror, Slayer. You lived in LA. Surely—“

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Spike.”

Anya bounced on the couch, excited. “I love Rocky. I’ve been 34 times.”

“Been a couple myself. You, Watcher?”

Giles removed his glasses and cleared his throat. “Well, in my Ripper days…” he began, and Anya and Spike both interrupted him.

“We have to go.”

Xander paused from stuffing another cookie in his mouth, and said, “Go where?”

“They have midnight showings of Rocky Horror Picture Show nightly in LA. It’s fun, and it’s something that you have to do at least once in your lifetime. Preferably dressed up as your favorite character,” Anya said.

“Huh?” Xander was still clueless.

“It’s a movie, whelp. A movie, spoofs on science fiction and B movies and musicals. It is fun, your bint’s right on that.”

“She’s not a bint!” Xander turned to Anya and Giles. “What’s a bint?”

“It’s a girl, although not the nicest of terms.” Giles massaged his eyes. “And how do you propose we get to LA, Spike?”

“Well, actually—“

“Isn’t there a show tonight at the Demon Theater, Spike?” Anya asked. She turned to Giles. “They show it every Tuesday at the Demon Theater at midnight. I did get a chance to go there once. It was much more uninhibited than the human one.”

“Er, yes, Anya. So instead of researching the military group stalking demons, we should go to the midnight showing of a cult film?”

“Yeah!” The chorus of voices was resounding in the room, and they all looked around in surprise at each other. Willow spoke first. “Giles, we really don’t have much to go on, and we have been working hard—“

“—And a no-fun Slayer is a grumpy Slayer that doesn’t slay well, Giles,” Buffy finished.

Xander, still afraid of the demon magnet part of Willow’s spell, was skeptical. “We could be getting ourselves into a heap o’ trouble.”

“Doubtful, whelp. The demons that go are there for fun, not mayhem. Slayer and the Slayerettes wouldn’t be the ones having to worry.”

Giles replaced his glasses, and said, “Very well. If an outing is that necessary, we can go. Spike, you can procure tickets?”

Spike glided from the chair and stalked across the room. “I’ll call Willy’s.”

Anya turned to the group. “Everyone, go home and dress in black. Dress, well, sexy. Meet back here at 11:30.” She grabbed Xander by the hand, and pulled him to the door. They heard his question as the door closed.

“What do you mean, sexy? Ahn—“

Spike put the phone down, and turned to Buffy. “All’s set. Go pretty up for the demons, love. Want to look prime for the crowd.”

“You’re such a pig, Spike.” Already, she was thinking of what to wear to drive him nuts. She did have that black halter, and those leather pants…. Turning to Willow, she said, “You heard the evil vampire, Will. Let’s go make ourselves sexy.”

“Oh, dear.” Giles removed his glasses again, and Spike grinned.

“What the matter, Watcher? Slayer got you down?”

“Sometimes, Spike, I don’t know what to do with her.” He started up the stairs to his loft. “I’ll be getting dressed. Do try to behave.”

“Be getting dressed myself, Rupert. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Giles’ watch read 11:45, and they stood in front of a nondescript warehouse in the industrial district. He watched as Spike banged on the door, and a huge Stelgath demon jerked it open, snarling. His nostrils flared, and he turned to the group of humans.

“It’s the Slayer’s party, you bleeding idjit. Open up.”

The Stelgath immediately wiped the snarl from his face, which really didn’t do much of anything to change it. He was still red and ugly with humongous horns and teeth. “Come in, Slayer. The movie’s about to start. They’re still in the pre-show.”

He led them to a row by themselves, and they looked around. Demons of every conceivable size and shape filled the surprisingly plush theater with a variety of seating capabilities. Buffy looked across the row to the left, and saw the demon Sweet, an old enemy. He grinned, and his mouth popped into view close to her ear. “What can I say, Slayer, you know I love a good show. Truce? I’m not in town on business, only pleasure.”

“Right. Okay, you caught me in a good mood, but just tonight.” Her voice was magically amplified, and it rang through the building.

Spike leaned over from where he sat next to her and whispered in her ear. “Failsafe, Slayer. Protects you and your blokes, and everyone around if they know you aren’t here for the rough and tumble.”

“I get that.” She looked him over. He wore his usual duster, but he had on a black button down shirt instead of his usual tee. “You look nice tonight. No tee shirt.”

“You look delicious, love.” He skimmed her from head to toe, and she swore he could see through her clothes. “Just a ripe peach, aren’t you, pet?”

She heard her name over the loudspeaker system, and looked up to see a Churago demon introducing her and her friends. Somehow they knew an awful lot about them, and she looked back at the bane of her existence. “Told them a lot, didn’t you?”

“Didn’t want any surprises, love. Now they know there’s you and a witch among you, there won’t be any.”

Xander listened, and bristled when the announcer said they were virgins. “I’m not a virgin!”

Anya patted his arm. “They don’t mean a real virgin, Xander, they mean a virgin to the Rocky Horror Experience.”

He calmed down, and looked at Willow, next to him, and Anya turned to speak to Giles. “Will, what do you think about all this?”

“It could be interesting, I guess, Xan. Just roll with it. Buffy seems to be enjoying herself.” She looked at the two blondes with their heads together, and said, “Things have changed between her and Spike. Have you noticed?”

“Yeah, she’s all about being nice to the Hateful Dead.” Xander curled his lip. “Think it’s left over from the spell?”

Willow’s eyes flashed guilty. “I broke the spell! Maybe she just looks at him differently. After all, they were awful friendly, from what you say.”

“Too friendly. Please, if you accidentally do anything like that again, make me blind too?”

Willow grinned. “Okay, I promise. Oh, the show’s starting.”

The huge mouth filled the screen, and Buffy could hear Spike humming the song under his breath. “You know the songs?” she whispered.

“Told you I been a couple of times. Don’t lie to you, Buffy.” He concentrated on the screen, conscious of her staring at him and the huge bulge that was making his jeans uncomfortably tight. “Watch the show, Buffy. You’ll like it.” He reached out and patted her bare forearm. “Jus’ relax, pet.”

She trained her eyes on the screen, and found that she was enjoying the show. Until the flying objects started to hit.

She realized she was being pelted with rice. “What the hell?” she stammered.

“Oh.” Spike reached down into the shopping bag that he had prepared. Anya and Giles did the same, and soon they were pelting other’s with rice as well.

The umbrellas and squirt guns came out next, and then, there was the Time Warp.

The first chords of the song sounded, and Anya and Spike stood. Spike grabbed Buffy by the hand, and dragged her with him, up onto the stage in front of the movie. “Spike, I don’t know what to do,” she hissed.

“Follow me.” She watched him and Anya, dancing and jumping, and thought to herself, that’s easy enough. She saw Xander, Giles, and Willow sitting in the audience, mouths agape, as they watched the Slayer shimmy with demons, a chipped vampire, and an ex-demon.

Xander whispered to Willow, “I had no idea that Buffy could do that dance.”

“It’s not that hard, Xan.” She stood, and shimmied. “See?”

Xander turned to Giles. “Why aren’t you up there singing and dancing, Giles?”

Giles cleared his throat. “It wouldn’t be seemly.” Xander noticed the broad smile on the Watcher’s face.

Xander turned back to the stage to see Anya singing the part of Columbia.

“I was walking down the street just a having a think
When a snake of a guy gave me an evil wink
He shook-a me up, he took me by surprise
He had a pick up truck and the devil's eyes
He stared at me and I felt a change
Time meant nothing, never would again”

Buffy was breathless, but she was having fun. Lots of fun. The song ended, and Spike handed her over to Anya, shoving them both gently to the stairs at the side. He walked into the shadows, and disappeared from view for a moment, then reappeared off to the side. Buffy sat forward on the edge of her seat, hungry for whatever was going to come next, and she was shocked when she saw Spike walk out onto the stage and begin to sing along with the freak dressed in women’s underwear.

He hadn’t changed clothes, thank God; he was still in his black jeans and button down shirt. The buttons had been unbuttoned halfway to his belly, and flashes of his white chest were visible to the crowd, and Buffy especially. She concentrated on the words of the song instead of the way he was dancing, but she couldn’t tear her eyes from his shaking hips and the bulge clearly visible in his jeans.

His voice rang out surprisingly well, and she knew he was singing to her.

“Don't get strung out by the way I look
Don't judge a book by its cover
I'm not much of a man by the light of day
But by night I'm one hell of a lover
I'm just a sweet transvestite
From Transsexual, Transylvania”

She licked her lips, her eyes glued to the vampire on stage. When the song was over, the demon crowd cheered. It was a treat when William the Bloody decided to join in the fun. Buffy clapped and hooted along with the crowd. The Scoobies joined in enthusiastically, surprised as well at Spike’s performance.

He joined her, breathless, and laughed at the look on her face. “You should see yourself, Slayer,” he said, grabbing her hand. “Did I grow another head?”

“Maybe.” She gripped his hand in return, surprised at how natural it felt at the moment. She got lost in his eyes, and the crowd faded away as they looked at each other, until they closed the distance between them and succumbed to the magnetic pull of the moment.

The world stopped spinning while his mouth caressed hers, tongues tangling and teeth scraping tender flesh as they kissed. Her ears were filled with the sound of her blood rushing through her, and it spiraled out of control as his hands twined into her hair.

She pulled back, breathless, and looked up into those depthless eyes. “Not here. Not now.”

“Sorry, Slayer. Don’t know what came over me. Heat of the moment and all.” He scraped his shoe on the ground, unable to meet her eyes, then turned, duster swirling, and walked up the aisle and out of the theater.

With a quick glance at the rest of the gang and seeing them all involved in the action onstage, she slipped out of the seats and followed him out to the lobby area of the warehouse.

He was pacing and smoking, duster flapping with his agitation. He stopped dead when he saw her, and she smiled. “What’s the problem, fang-face? Still reeling over the Slayer’s kiss?”

He tossed his cigarette to the side, and was in front of her before she could blink. “Don’t poke fun, Slayer. Having a hard time getting over that damn spell.” He grabbed her upper arms, and snarled, “Don’t tell me you aren’t, ‘ve seen your face. Seen you watching me.”

“God, I hate to say it, but you’re right.”

He pulled her close, and buried his face in her hair. “God, Slayer, I dream about you. Can’t hardly take it.”

She pulled him into a small space around the edge of the theater. Fisting her hands in his hair, she pulled his head down to hers. “Just kiss me, Spike.” He kissed her until she saw stars. He was kissing her neck and caressing her bare back. Touching her everywhere. She was dizzy with sensation overload, and he held her up as he plundered her mouth again.

She heard him whisper close to her ear, “Let me please you, Buffy.” She nodded, not trusting her voice, and he unzipped her leather pants, slipping his hand inside. She was a throbbing mass of nerve endings, and she nearly screamed when he brushed his fingers across the tops of her curls in her nether region. Cool fingers against heated flesh, cool mouth on her own.

He slid his fingers through the juices of her arousal to run his fingers lightly around her erect nubbin. She thrust her crotch into his hand, and his fingers slipped inside her, driving her wild. She rutted against his hand, his mouth against her throat, nibbling and caressing her scars there. He had pulled her jacket down, and it imprisoned her arms until all she could do was clutch at him, depending on him to hold her upright.

She could hear a roar building in the theater, the music overwhelmingly loud, and she wondered if they’d turned up the volume. She lost her grip on his arms as he knelt down in front of her, sliding her pants to her knees, and pressing his mouth to her. His tongue slithered inside her cleft, and she grabbed his shoulders instead, knees weak.

Spike nuzzled and licked the sweet juices from the Slayer’s quim, completely surprised she was letting him do this. He sucked her clit between his lips, and teased it with the tip of his tongue, and was rewarded by her shriek of pleasure. Thank God for rowdy demons, he thought. His hand joined his mouth, and he slid two digits inside her gushing passage to massage the nerve endings inside her. Her knees buckled, and he held her up with his one hand as he fingerfucked her with the other, his mouth still attached to her clit.

She thought she’d died and gone to heaven. Heat boiled in her stomach, and she wanted him inside her, filling her. She knew he wanted her; she’d felt the size of him when she was on his lap those many times last week. She pulled him up by his hair, and unzipped him quickly, knowing they were short on time and anyone could come looking for them any moment.

Her hand was around the base of his cock, and she was pulling him to her, brushing him against the juices staining her inner thighs. She arched her hips and he slid home, deep inside her. She gasped as he filled her completely, and spread her legs as far as her pants would allow.

Her heat seared him the entire length of his shaft. He grunted as she tightened around him, then began plummeting into her depths, hard and fast. She huffed with every thrust, her breath sweet on his neck, and he found his mouth close to her scars from Angel and the Master. Wankers, both.

He murmured against her throat, “Love, a sip?” She nodded, closing on her peak, and he knew that he could make it good and send her over the edge. He let his fangs drop, and dipped his head to glide them into her flesh, then slid them away again. He pulled on his wounds, sipping at her blood, then started nibbling them with blunt teeth, finally biting her hard.

The world spun out of control, and he was there, supporting her and catching her as she fell. Her orgasm buckled her in two, and as her nails shredded his back and the silky shirt he wore, her teeth found his neck, and she bit down, determined not to scream her passion for the entire theater to hear. He threw his head back and roared as he began to come, and all the demons roared with him inside the auditorium.

The Scoobies finally realized the crowd was really rowdy, and Willow looked next to her and found Buffy and Spike’s seats empty. No panicking, she firmly told herself, sneaking a look at the others. They were engrossed in the show, and Will decided not to draw attention to their absence, not wanting any more blame or guilt heaped on her aching head. She already felt bad enough; why couldn’t they just leave it alone already?

Buffy finally came down off her natural high, and looked at the vampire in front of her. Granted, he looked just as uncomfortable as she felt, as they disengaged from each other. He tucked himself away and zipped up, then helped her with her jacket, the leather not wanting to let her go. She touched his mouth, and wiped a droplet of her blood from his lip, and he caught her hand, guiding the finger between his full lips, sucking the blood off her finger.

“Well, Slayer, that was an interesting intermission.” He grinned around her finger, and she snatched it out of his grasp.

“I won’t even dignify that with an answer, Spike.” She started out of the cubbyhole they’d found, and turned on him. Guilt was written all over her face, and her body was tense. He reached for her, and grabbed her hand, drawing her back to his side.

“Never tell, Buffy. I promise. Cross my heart.” He put as much sincerity in his eyes that he could find.

“Promise.” She was solemn as she crossed her heart, and then leaned forward to brush his mouth with hers. “Sealed with a kiss.”

He caught her head with his hands, and kissed her long and deep. “Sealed with a kiss,” he repeated against her lips.

They walked back inside the theater to cheers and shouts from the crowd, and Buffy looked up on the stage, surprised to see Giles gyrating to something about a hot patootie. She slid in next to Willow, who looked at her guiltily, and she gave back a guilty look of her own. “Remember that forgetting spell? I may need it now,” she whispered to the redheaded witch.

“Done deal. But I want details before the spell, okay?”

“Only if you take one too.”

They concentrated hard on the rest of the show, but some of the fun was missing for Buffy and Spike alike, although they found themselves laughing about it again by the end. They also found themselves holding hands at one point. She just smiled and let his hand go, and he didn’t try it again, but she knew he wanted to, for some reason.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“So, what did you think?” Anya was jumping up and down, still excited from the movie and performance.

“Well, I really didn’t understand it, but I guess it was okay.” Xander munched on some candy he’d found in his coat pocket. It tasted old, but it was food, and all food was good.

“Interesting. Are the human theaters that rowdy, cause if they are, I’d like to go to one of them. Maybe dressed up next time.” Willow walked along next to Giles and a little back from Xander and Anya. Buffy and Spike trailed behind them all.

“Did you like the movie, Slayer?”

His innocent question caught her by surprise, but she answered gamely. “I liked it, what I saw of it. That little distraction during the performance made me miss some, but I guess I can always come again.”

Spike caught her meaning, and curled his tongue. Hmm, interesting possibilities.

Giles turned his head to look at her. “What distraction?”

“There was just a vamp making some girl scream. Spike and I took care of it.” She exchanged a look with Spike, and added, “Just another Tuesday in Sunnyhell, Giles. Always some vamp trying to cause a commotion around here. He was easy, though, and I could take him.” She smiled sweetly at her Watcher and her vampire, knowing her secret was safe. Maybe she’d forget about the forgetting spell. She could always use another good fantasy.

They said their goodnights and went their separate ways, but not before Spike caught her pinky with his as they walked close together for a moment. She squeezed his pinky with hers, then waved at him and Giles as they turned to Giles’ apartment.

Yep, another Tuesday in Sunnyhell, and what a Tuesday it was.