As far as I can see it's just a piss-poor excuse of a poxy pub, nothing
bloody bronze about it.

It's small, it's full of idiot students who talk too loudly about fuck
all, spill more beer than they drink, and generally get on my soddin' tits.

And the *smells*...

Jesus wept, it's like a cross between a crap-house, a whore-house and some
manky demon's armpit.

It may surprise you to know that humans smell worse than a lot of demons
I've known, and not just the ones with dodgy personal hygiene.

It's like this.

All human emotions have a scent. You're only glorified fuckin' animals,
after all.
Each time you deceive, each time you're horny, each time you're
frightened, a demon can smell it. We're also only glorified fuckin'
animals, although higher up the evolutionary ladder than you lot.

Each emotion has it's own distinct scent.

Deceit smells like burnt almonds; an acrid, bitter scent that tickles the
old nasal hairs - not very pleasant. But then, deceit isn't pleasant is it?
Most of the undesirable emotions smell bloody awful, like the reflection of
their own rottenness I suppose.

My favourite emotion-smell is fear.

Fear has an alcoholic, heady smell that makes your senses swim and your
skin tingle.

Fear does to a demon what that little bell did to Pavlov's dogs. It whets
the appetite, hones the senses and sends all those horny-hormones rushing
around inside ya.

Fear gives me a hard-on; always has, always will, even when it's my own.

It does *marvellous* things to the blood. Fear makes the blood richer,
makes it flow faster, makes the kill worth the extra effort. And don't you
just *love* that adrenaline chaser?

Arousal, on the other hand, smells of musk; earthy and primal, especially
a man's scent. Bints tend to cover their natural smells with expensive,
overpowering flower-piss that some celebrity arsehole on telly *assures*
them will make them irresistible to blokes... irresistible to mosquitoes and
a variety of flying, stinging beasties, that's the truth of it.

Even so, I can smell arousal at one hundred paces, me.

Maybe it's because I'm such a good shag, I don't know, but I'm fuckin'
attuned, baby, I'm in touch with it.

I can smell a hot bint or a hard-on a *mile* off.

Humans are so easy to arouse. It's the little things that count with
them; a sideways glance, licking your lips all slow and sexy, a light
touch...

All you need to have is the ability to flatter even when there's fuck all
*to* flatter, superficial beauty, horny walk, sexy voice... then Bob's yer
uncle, or your live-in lover if you prefer.

Let's face it people, I've got all the qualifications.

In the desirability stakes I'm a 10 on the old Hot-o-meter; I could get
your old maiden aunt wetter than the Pacific and I could give Jell-O a
hard-on. I could tease you until you'll be willing to blow me in front of
your parents.

I've even been known to break straight blokes, me.

Angelus used to *love* that; he would send me out on occasion to pick up
some hetro bloke.

Christ, but my Sire loved to watch me work. Got old Angelus as horny as
hell watching me seduce these saps and knowing all along it was gonna be
*him* taking me home, *him* fuckin' me senseless after I'd driven the sap to
near distraction and then buggered off, leaving him with a severe case of
blue-balls and a hard-on that wouldn't quit.

Of course, the better the show I put on the harder Angelus fucked me.

There were occasions when I had to stay in bed for a day or two 'cause the
bastard had ripped me up so bad, but even then his mouth was never off my
dick and he fucked my throat red-raw. He had a large appetite, had
Angelus... and an even larger cock.


Yeah, I do love playing with humans.

Can you imagine how it feels to have someone in the palm of your hand?

I choose someone in a pub or a club and get to work on them; furtive
glances, shy smiles all that body-language stuff you humans are suckers for.

Pretty soon, the old pheromones are bouncing about all over the bloody
place and I can tell that he/she is gagging for it. That earthy, musky
scent is hanging in the air like smog and the sexual tension makes the hair
on the back of your neck stiffen... amongst other things.

I move in for the kill, standing oh so close; close enough to feel that
hot breath panting on my face, close enough for my lips to *nearly* brush
theirs, so close that it's impossible *not* to believe I'm going to kiss
them.

Then I walk away.

I just walk away leaving the sap all turned on with no place to shag.

Have you any idea how it feels to do that, to have that power? How it
feels to turn someone into a squirming, horny mess and then walk away; no
explanation, no apology.

You can nearly *taste* the pain, it's so exquisite, so... pure.

Bloody hell!

After I've done it, I've been slapped, I've been insulted and I've even
been begged and it *all* felt *so fucking good*.

All that pain, all that misery, all those *smells*.

The smell of the fear, the smell of the humiliation, the smell of the
pain. That's your demon Este Lauder, your fuckin' Calvin Klein For
Vampires... bloody priceless!

For a demon it's fuckin' ambrosia of the gods.

But no games... not tonight.

Tonight's different.

Tonight there's someone I *want*.

Tonight is going to end a month of wet dreams and blue-balls and fantasies
of someone else's fist around my cock.

Tonight...

I'm gonna fuck Xander...

Finally.

-----------------------------------------------

God, he's doing it again.

Spike... he's doing it again, that... *thing* with his eyes, that thing
that makes my cock twitch and my mouth water.

Oh God, I don't know how more much of this I can stand.

Is it possible for your cock to explode? Just think, I could be the first
man in history to have an exploding cock. I can just imagine everyone's
faces splattered in semen, and bits of my dick sliding down the walls of The
Bronze.

Cool.

Man, old Spikey's looking hot tonight; but then he looks hot *every*
night.

I've never seen another man move with as much grace as he does; he seems
to glide just above the level of the floor, and even the air he displaces
yearns for him.

He's like a raven crowned with a shining white halo, black duster
alternately clinging and hovering around his firm, slim body.

I don't know if it's purely a vampire trait, but he awakens something deep
inside of me that hasn't been stirred properly since man was a primal,
savage half-beast scurrying around in animal skins.

There's a darkness, an untamed, bestial eroticism that emanates from Spike
and pierces my civilised, socially programmed facade; that uncoils itself in
the base of my cock and swamps my brain with whispering, black fantasies of
pleasure and pain and blood.

I can see us swimming in it, wallowing in it, *creating* it.

And I want it.

I want it all.

I see him and I'm *surrounded* by this... hush.

Everything outside of him and me switches off and there's nothing left but
cool and heat, dark and light, dead and alive, and around it all there's
this hush... this intake of breath, this singing of blood, this deafening
hush.

I wanna shed my skin.

Oh man... what the fuck is happening to me.

I *need*.

My skin crawls with need and hunger and there's this desperation that's
growing in me like a tumour, eating my defences, devouring my self-control.

Fuck, there's no escape, no relief.

Unless...

Could he want me too?

------------------------------------------------------------

Ahhhh...

There they are, Buffy's little Scoobys.

Red, Xander and the wolf boy.

What moist, sweet little treats.

I see Queen Buffy hasn't seen fit to grace them with her presence yet...
what a fuckin' hardship that must be. Is she *down* on the farm, or *down*
on the farm boy?

((snigger))

Anyhow.

They're here.

*He's* here.

Sit down, Spike.

Be nice, Spike.

Yeah... Hello.

Yeah... I'm good.

 Nah... Haven't seen her.

Yeah... A beer.

What? How the fuck would I know... Oh shit, be *nice* Spike! Urmmm...
Rupert? Haven't seen him, no.

Jesus, this place suc....

((sniff))

Bloody hell.

((sniff))

Oh baby... come to Spikey.

Ohhhhh *somebody* stop me...

I can *smell* it, I can smell it and oh is it Xan? Is it Xan oh it *must*
be and oh bloody hell he wants me he wants me and oh fuck this is so good oh
sweet merciful Christ that *smell*...

Ohhh look at him there, all innocent and melty brown eyes and doesn't he
play 'coy' *really* well. Nearly had me fooled...

Nearly had me fooled, nearly had me thinking he *hated* me...

So say it Spike.

Just.

Fucking.

Say it.

Quick glance up.

They're all watching.

Say it!

'Outside pet, NOW!'

Wide eyes all around as I get up.

I turn. Look at them.

'Pet, outside? Now?'

Ok, ok... out now, outside now.

He'll come.

--------------------------------------

Whaaaa?

God, is he...

What?

Is he looking at *me*?

He is... he is he's looking at me oh fuck he's looking at me ohhhhh at
last he's...

God.

Should I...

Oh fuck, what about...

 No, this is about *me*, this is about *me*...

FUCK IT!

FUCK IT!

Ok... I'm going...

They're all looking, do they know? Do they know already?

Ohgodohgodohgodohgod...

Don't hate me, please don't hate me, *please*...

Up now.

On my feet now.

Oh fuck... they're all looking at me now...

*She's* looking at me...

'Sorry...

Sorry, I gotta go, I need...

Sorry.'

I'm out of here.

------------------------------------


*** Alley outside The Bronze ***

He's coming oh fuck he's coming....

'Xander?'

'Spike?'

'Bloody hell... *Oz*?'


END