Trick and Treats

by Saber ShadowKitten
Holidays Series, Story 11


"The computer age," the smartly-dressed, African American vampire commented as his eyes skimmed down the screen in front of him. "The sweetest sounding words to my ears." Mr. Trick glanced at the woman perched on the table beside the computer. "Next to the sounds of screaming humans as I drain the life from them, that is."

"Naturally, sugar." The vampiress pushed her hundreds of tiny braids over her shoulder, the dim lighting in the room making her skin look like rich chocolate. "Of course, if you don't get moving, the sun will be up before we can hear that glorious sound."

"Patience, Chanese," Trick said, moving the mouse with expert ease. "Good things come to those who wait. And I cannot believe those words just came out of my mouth. If I wasn't a smart, and the Mayor didn't have this town wired ever so nicely, I would have to hurt that man."

Chanese peered around the edge of the computer at the screen. "What are you looking for anyway?"

"A little out-of-town assistance," Trick answered. His fingers began hitting the computer keys rapidly. "I'm having a bit of an employee problem. It seems that the Slayers have taken out the last of my loyal minions who weren't scared bloodless of the cute, tiny blond one's mate. All that power in that itty-bitty package. Such a shame she's the enemy."

"A Slayer with a vampire mate," Chanese commented. "How come that makes me feel unsettled?"

"Because it goes against the natural order of things," Trick replied. "Spike has a pair of brass ones for mating with her." He sighed. "Which his why I'm having such trouble. How is a brother suppose to accomplish his plans of chaos and mayhem if all his merry-makers run screaming the other direction when either that Buffy or Spike are seen?"

Chanese slid off the table and walked around behind his chair. She lightly rubbed his shoulders. "So what are you going to do about it, honey?"

"What I should have done after that Valentine's Day fiasco," Trick said. He hit enter on the computer keyboard. "Say goodbye to Mr. William the Bloody...permanently."

The screen changed and the words "Payment accepted" appeared beneath the Unholy Nation, Mercenaries for Hire banner.

Trick stood and offered his arm to Chanese, commenting as they left the room. "I do so love the computer age."

Part One

"Here's what I don't understand," Xander said, straddling the chair and resting his forearms on the back. "Why isn't today a vampire fun day? There are people all over the streets, free for the eating."

Spike started to turn his head to answer Xander, but Oz's eyes told him to hold still without a sound coming from the werewolf's mouth. "Think about it, mate. What type of people are out, roaming the streets, shrieking like little soddin' banshies...?"

"Got it," Xander said with a nod. "Ankle-biters not a plus on the a la carte human menu."

"Everyone's blood's too syrupy anyway," Spike added. "All that sugar. We used to feed off the reserve stocks-"

"Don't want to hear it," Xander interrupted. "I have a hard enough time not not liking you because you're of the fanged set."

Oz capped the black pencil he was using and nodded to Spike, who turned on his chair to face Xander. The dark-haired nineteen year old shuddered. "I'm not too fond of you looking like that either," Xander said.

Spike grinned, the black pencil marks above his upper lip causing his fangs look even longer. The white and black makeup was painted over his true countenance, making the skull face even scarier. He was dressed in a tight, black turtleneck and new, non-faded, black jeans, which were tucked into his beloved boots.

His two current companions were also dressed for the Halloween party a university friend of theirs was hosting. And it was their friends, not his. The only people Spike considered friends were Oz, Willow, Xander, Cordelia, Faith, Giles and Joyce. Everyone else was food unless his mate told him otherwise.

Oz had invited the men of the group over to his house -- minus Giles, who refused to have anything to do with the group that involved makeup or "adolescent rituals of intoxication and regurgitation," which meant he stayed home a lot -- in order to get ready for the party. Since Buffy refused to let Spike stay home like Giles, and since she also wouldn't let him just let his true face show, he gratefully accepted Oz's suggestion of the skull makeup.

The werewolf himself, in his normal offbeat style, had borrowed a uniform from the Chicken Hut. The bright, orange polyester shirt was tucked into brown, polyester pants, and he had a garish yellow hairnet over his currently navy blue hair. A handmade nametag was added to the uniform that read "Can I pluck your clucker?"

Xander was dressed as a surfer. The wetsuit he wore was black and dark blue, and he had water shoes on his feet. He had borrowed hair gel from Oz and had slicked his dark locks back so it looked as though he'd just emerged from the waves. A bright pink slash of Zinc Oxide ran down his nose.

"When are the ladies meeting us?" Oz asked, putting away the makeup in an old cigar box.

Spike glanced at the clock on the wall. "Around nine. The Slayer said she was going to make a round with Faith, then head back to our place."

"Cordy said she was going to pick Wills up, but that's all I know," Xander added.

"Willow told me she was getting ready at your apartment," Oz said to Spike. "So best guess, they're all there."

"Well then." Spike grinned as he stood, his yellow eyes glinting with evil mischievousness. "In honor of hell-o-ween, what say we scare the knickers off of them?"


"What do you think the guys are doing?" Willow asked, brushing Faith's hair back from her face. The redhead had finished dressing in her Halloween costume, which consisted of green tights, a long green tunic belted at the waist over a white peasant blouse, calf high moccasins and a short bow with a quiver of arrows that she would carry later, and was helping the brunette Slayer finish her costume.

"Probably trying to think of a way to scare us," Cordelia answered. She turned left and right in front of the full length mirror in the bedroom, then readjusted the flowery sarong around her waist, over the black one-piece swim suit she wore. Her feet were encased in sandals and, to complete her costume, a pair of sunglasses were perched on her head.

"Knowing my mate, that's exactly what they're planning to do," Buffy commented with a grin.

"Ut-oh, looks like B's got a counter-attack prepared," Faith said. Willow finished pulling her hair up into a tight bun, and she stood and slid the black rimmed fake glasses on her nose. Folding her hands in front of her ankle length, dowdy grey skirt over black socks and gym shoes, her ruffled white blouse buttoned all the way to the top, the prim and propper schoolmarm added, "Which I do not condone in any manner."

The other three girls laughed. "Oh goddess, I had a second grade teacher who sounded just like that," Willow said. "And looked like that, too."

Faith grabbed the sides of her skirt and curtseyed dramatically. "Why thank you, Red."

Buffy finished putting on her second, thin-strapped, red stiletto and stood. "Well, guys, how do I look?"

"Like you're not going to be wearing that long," Faith replied.

"I told Spike hands off til after the party," Buffy said, taking Cordelia's place in front of the mirror.

"As if that's going to stop him, Buffy," Willow said.

Buffy smiled wickedly, in character with the red, long-sleeved bodysuit she was wearing, complete with devil tail that curled up behind her and a headband with two, fake red horns on it in her loose, blond hair. The always present anklet sparkled on her ankle as she turned in front of the mirror. "I know."

"God, is sex all you ever think about?" Cordelia said.

"If I had a hottie like Spike, only the apocalypse would move me from the bed," Faith said. She thought for a moment, then added, "And that's a big maybe on that, too."

"Cordelia, don't tell me you and Xander haven't...," Buffy trailed off with a lift of her brow.

"It's none of your business," Cordelia huffed.

"Wow," Willow said, taking a seat on the edge of Buffy's bed. "And I thought I was the last one to go in this group."

"Hello? Xander's and my sex life is not up for discussion," Cordelia said.

"It couldn't be that the Xand-man can't get it up," Faith said, tapping her chin with her finger. "I've seen the nice stiffy he gets when the queen here bends over to pick something up. It's obvious he's thinking about ramming her..."

"Guys..." Cordelia warned.

"Ooh, that's a fun position," Buffy said. "A possessive one."

"Makes you feel exposed, too, with everything bouncing...," Willow trailed off with a blush. "I'll keep my naughty stuff to myself now."

"Now I can picture Oz doing that," Faith said. "What with him being dog-boy and all."

"Faith!" Willow squealed.

"Spike, too, with very little problem," Faith continued, shooting a smile to Buffy. The blond Slayer waggled her brows response. "But the big X? It's easier to picture Cord with a strap-on..."

"Enough!" Cordelia exclaimed. "I do not want my sex life or lack there of out on the table for examination!"

"On the table," Buffy said. "Now there's a fun place..."

Cordelia growled and threw the closest thing she could reach at Buffy.


"Ut-oh," Oz said, slowing the van down near the entrance to the parking lot outside of the apartment complex where the Brody's lived.

"What-o?" Xander asked, leaning forward to get a better look out of the front windshield. He spotted either two really well made-up Halloween celebrants or... "Vampires, ten o'clock."

"I got an idea," Spike spoke up from the back. "How would you two like a little hands-on slaying practice?"

"Minus the screaming and the mind-numbing fear?" Xander asked.

"The only ones who'll be screaming is them, but not for long," Spike answered with a chuckle.

Oz parked the van and, armed with the stash of weapons of the sidekick trade, as those who weren't the Slayers referred to themselves as, Xander and the werewolf followed Spike towards the side of the complex where they saw the vampires.

Spike cleared his throat as the trio came within hearing range, and the two vampires shot looks in their direction. When they didn't immediately run for their unlives, the blond vampire figured they either were either newly risen or they didn't know it was him due to the makeup. Whichever way it went, he wanted to be close enough to capture them to give his chums a little practice. Buffy would appreciate the gesture, and he was looking forward to the thanks he would receive from her.

He nodded briefly at Xander, who began to speak in a loud voice. "Those are some great masks," the dark-haired teen said.

"Very realistic," Oz added.

"Thank you," one of the vampires said, gesturing for his companion to follow him. "Would you like to take a closer look?"

"Sure," Xander answered. When the two got into grabbing range of Spike, Xander continued. "Well, now, those are pretty scary faces. Almost as scary as Spike's."

The two vampires froze. "Spike?" the one on the left hissed, looking nervously between the three friends.

Spike raised his hand and wiggled his fingers. "Allo, mate."

"Oh shit," the one on the right said, then turned to run.

Spike shot forward and grabbed the two about-to-run vampires by the backs of their collars. He slammed them into one another, then kicked out one of the vampires' knees. Vampire number one went down in pain, earning a second kick in the middle of his back, putting him flat on the pavement. Before he could move, Spike had his head under the thick sole of the Doc Marten on the blond's foot. The second vampire was just whimpering in Spike's grip.

"Now, do you mind explaining why you two are skulking about my home?" Spike asked, shaking the vampire he had by the collar.

"We didn't know," the one under Spike's boot replied.

"We were just looking for dinner," the second one said defensively.

"And you figured I would make a good meal?" Spike asked sarcastically.

"No!" number two exclaimed.

"No?" Spike said.

"We didn't know it was you, either," number one said.

Spike pressed his weight slightly on number one's head. "Ahh! We didn't! The makeup! We thought you were just another human!"

"I think I'm insulted," Spike said conversationally. The one under his boot cried out again as he put more weight on the vampire's skull. Spike looked over at Xander and Oz. "One of you come here."

Xander and Oz exchanged glances, then Xander walked over to Spike. "Turn around," the blond instructed.

"Why?" Xander asked suspiciously.

"Just do it, mate," Spike said. He tightened his hold on vampire number two's collar. Xander turned around and Spike growled in number two's ear, "Grab him as if you were going to bite him."

Oz could see a terrified expression on the vampire's face as he grabbed Xander around the shoulders and put his mouth near the dark-haired teen's neck. Xander's eyes grew round, but he kept his cool.

"Xander," Spike said calmly. "If you are being held in this manner, you have two ways to get out, depending on what weapon you have."

"O-okay," Xander stammered.

"Now, if you have a cross, you reach up and shove it in your attacker's face. He'll release you, then you run like hell," Spike said.

"'Run away,'" Xander quoted in a Pythonesque voice.

"If you have a stake," Spike continued. "Turn your body towards your attacker and stake the bloody bastard under your arm."

"Under the arm, check," Xander echoed.

Spike waited a moment, then growled, "Well, what are you waiting for?"

"I think he wants you to stake the vamp, man," Oz said to Xander.

"Ah, right," Xander said. He gripped the stake in his hand tighter.

The vampire in Spike's grip paled even further, then before he could act, he was dust.

"Very good," Spike said, transferring his gaze down to the vampire under his boot. "Oz, would you like to give it a go?"

"That's okay," Oz said. "I got the gist."

Spike shrugged, then lifted his boot from the vampire's face, releasing him. "I guess your services aren't needed then," he said. "You can go."

The remaining vampire scrambled to his feet and started to run away. Spike plucked the stake sill in Xander's hand, turned and threw it at the vampire. He exploded in a cloud of dust.

"Hmm." Oz had a thoughtful look on his face. "It worked for him."

"What was that, mate?" Spike asked, scanning the area for any other problems.

"Never mind," Oz said. "We done?"

"Yes," Spike answered. The blond vampire fell into step next to the other two men and they headed towards the apartment to go forth with their plan to scare the ladies.


"Interesting." The tall, slender human lowered the binoculars from his green eyes and watched as the three figures entered the apartment complex. The wind kicked up slightly, ruffling his shoulder-length blond hair. The dark camouflage clothing allowed him to blend into the background across the parking lot from the building.

Hitting a button on the side of his watch, he noted the time, then pulled a cellular phone out of his pocket. "This is Gage. Target acquired. Estimated time of elimination, zero-hundred hours."

Part Two

Spike was trying to pay attention to the conversation, but his mind kept replaying what his mate's mouth had been doing earlier.

The guys' attempt at scaring the girls had failed miserably, but he couldn't remember what they had tried to do. Hell, he couldn't even remember his own name after seeing his Slayer in that very naughty devil's costume. Then she'd gone and wrapped her lusciously blood-red lips around his cock and he'd died all over again.

As he watched those same lips move as she spoke to those around them at the Halloween party, he couldn't help but picture them as she knelt in front of him in their bedroom, their friends waiting in the living room of their apartment. He had wanted to peel the skin-tight material off her body and pound into her tight cunt from behind, but she wouldn't let him. Instead, she had freed his raging erection with a smile compatible with her costume, then began to torture him in a most delightful fashion.

He could still feel those lips on him as well as her tongue. He had watched unabashedly as she'd run her tongue along his turgid shaft, tracing the veins that crept around its length. Her hands had been warm around his cold flesh, stroking lightly near the base as she laved the super sensitive underside of the mushroom-shaped head with long, slow licks. He could have easily turned into a puddle of quivering flesh with her just doing that.

But then she'd sucked the tip into her hot mouth and his body had visibly shook with pleasure. The red of her lips had contrasted greatly against the paleness of his rock hard member, and had painted an unbelievably erotic picture. It hadn't taken long for him to explode into orgasm, shooting his load down her willing throat. He could still feel her throat muscles contracting around the head of his cock as she had swallowed, and he wondered when he could get her to do it again.

"...Right, Spike?"

Spike blinked and looked blankly at Buffy, as his mind was pulled back to the present. She arched a brow at him in question. "Er, right," he agreed, even though he had no clue as to what he was agreeing.

Buffy smiled at him, so he figured he answered correctly. However, right then he could care less. The hard on he had because of his thoughts was pressing uncomfortably against the denim of his jeans.

As the conversation started up again, Spike leaned closer to Buffy. "I'm going outside for a few," he whispered.

"'K," she whispered back. "If you see any baddies, chase them off for me."

He nodded, then turned and walked away without a word to the others. He didn't care if they thought him to be rude. They weren't his friends anyway, just cattle in costume.

Outside, the air was crisp and cool, a prefect fall night. It was the sort of night vampires liked because humans would walk from place to place rather than drive. Of course, since it was Halloween, the night was pretty much wasted.

Spike wandered around the side of the house where the party was being held. Several revelers were standing around, smoking and chatting. He pulled a cigarette box out of the pocket of his jeans, looked at it, then approached one of the smokers. "Can I bum a fag?"

"What?" the hippie he'd asked said incredulously.

Spike rolled his yellow eyes. "A smoke, mate," he rephrased. "A cigarette."

"Oh, yeah, sure," the hippie said, offering Spike the pack. "For a second there, I thought you were hitting on me."

"Thanks," Spike said upon taking the cigarette. He lit up and took a long drag, almost shivering when the rush of nicotine hit him.

"Long time between smokes?" a guy dressed in fatigues asked.

"Too bloody long," Spike replied. He looked up at the quarter moon and took another drag. He mentally calculated how much longer until he was free. He had eagerly volunteered to play escort to Willow, who was going to meet with her fellow Wiccan friends for a Samhain celebration around midnight.

"You came with that sexy devil, didn't you?" fatigue guy inquired.

Spike dropped his gaze from the night sky to him, trying to gauge his interest in Buffy. "Yeah, what of it?" he replied without emotion in his voice.



"Ah," fatigue guy said. "Then let me compliment you on a wonderful looking catch." He held out his hand. "Name's Gage."

Spike shook his hand, noting that it was warm. A possible late night snack candidate, he thought. "Spike."

Gage nodded, released Spike's hand and took a drag off his own cigarette. "That's a nice makeup job, by the way."

"So people say," Spike said.

"How did you get your eyes yellow like that?" Gage asked. "Special contacts?"

"Yeah, contacts," Spike agreed. Did they made contacts like that?, he wondered. "The makeup was done by a chum of mine. Orange shirt. Salacious question on his nametag. You might have seen him."

"Blue hair and yellow hairnet?" Gage said. "He was with another sexy thing dressed as Robin Hood."

"Red, yeah," Spike said.

"They were watching some spaz in a wetsuit try to convince the leggy one in the swimsuit to do something," Gage said. "I wanted to smack that kid on principle."

"Most do. I've been tempted many a times to snap his annoying neck. Too bad his best friend is my wife's best friend." Spike took another drag off his cigarette and gave a casual glance around.

"Looking for someone?" Gage asked.

Spike held up his cigarette and smirked. "Not suppose to have this."

"Little woman got you wrapped around her pinkie, huh?"

"Think further south, mate," Spike replied with a leer. Beyond Gage he saw a familiar face rounding the corner of the house. He took another quick puff, then hid the smoke behind his back as the brunette Slayer joined them. "Faith."

"Hey, blondie," Faith greeted. "I figured I'd find ya back here." She reached around him, plucked the cigarette from his hand and held it up. "These things'll kill ya."

"And that just gets bloody funnier every time I hear it," Spike grumbled to her, snatching the cigarette back. "To what do I owe this torture?"

"Miss Of Locksley is gettin' ready to vamoose," Faith replied. "Ozzy said you can take his van and B agreed."

"Let me guess, she wants me to take everyone home after." Faith grinned. Spike quickly finished the cigarette, then crushed it under his boot. He nodded at Gage, then walked beside Faith back to the front of the house, complaining under his non-existent breath the entire way.

Gage watched Spike until he was out of view, then crushed out his own cigarette before heading to where his own car was hidden.


"Thanks for coming with, Spike," Willow said as she and the blond vampire walked through the woods. "I know it's not high on your 'fun things to do with mortals' list."

"Well, the Slayer and your mate would prefer that you don't get mutilated while you're out here with your chums."

"Plus you wanted to leave the party."

"Damn right," Spike replied with a grin. The makeup on his face had been removed when he and Willow had stopped at her house to pick up her things for Samhain.

They came upon the clearing where a small fire was already set up in the center. Willow called out a greeting to her fellow Wiccans, then turned to her vampire companion. "You'll need to stay out of the circle of protection unless you want to participate in the celebration?" The redhead ended her statement with an invitation.

"That's okay, luv," Spike said. "I can entertain myself. Just give a holler when its time to go."

She smiled at him, then joined her friends and he turned to disappear back into the woods. He planned to scout around the clearing and scare off any threats to the celebrants on their New Year. After that, he'd probably toss off while thinking about all the things he was going to do to his mate when he got home.

The woods were quiet, save for the distant crackling of the fire from the center of the clearing. Spike had been silently moving through the trees for a half hour, his footsteps making no noise despite the heavy Doc Martens on his feet. Ahead of him, he spotted a thick, low hanging branch, and he jumped up to grab it when he passed by. Swinging himself up, he straightened and surveyed the area from the height he gained by the tree.

He wished he had a cigarette. Having that one at the party just made his craving for another greater. Sulking, he dug a sucker out and stuck it in his mouth, making sure to put the wrapper back in his pocket. Willow would have his hide if he littered in her woods.

He leaned against the tree trunk, his booted feet balancing easily on the tree limb. The quarter moon filtered down through the bare trees, their leaves having fallen off during the weeks prior to Halloween. He wondered if Buffy was enjoying herself at the party still. He trusted the wolf to assist her if she had trouble with the other male twits who'd been in attendance. The whelp would help, too, if need-

Spike heard the crack of a high-powered rifle a moment before he felt a searing pain behind his left ear. He blinked in surprise as he started to fall forward out of the tree. The leaf-covered floor of the woods rushed up to greet him and he managed to turn his head to the side before he hit with a hard smack of his body, preventing the sucker from getting shoved into the back of his throat.

His vision swam, a greyness blurring the edges and creeping inwards. White-heat radiated from the area behind his left ear. He spit the sucker out, then he struggled to put his hands flat on the ground to push himself upwards. He managed to rise slightly before the strength went out of his arms and he collapsed back onto the leafy earth. He saw a pair of black combat boots approaching him from a distance, then the greyness finished covering his vision, leaving him blind.

He curled his left hand inwards towards his sleeve and his fingers brushed the hilt end of a thin dagger he kept hidden on himself at all times. It had been blessed by Willow for use in aiding his Slayer against demons who weren't easily chased off by his presence or easily beaten. The hilt slowly emerged from his sleeve and he managed to get it entirely free before he heard the footsteps of his foe nearby.

Listening carefully, he could hear the rapid breathing of an excited human, the slight creak of the leather on the boots and the crinkling of the pants of his foe as the human crouched beside him. Unconsciousness was rapidly becoming a fact, and Spike knew he had only one chance to act before he was completely helpless.

In his mind's eye, he focused on creating a mental image of the area around him, including the human. He heard the human shift and the brush of an object against the material of his foe's pants as something was drawn from a pocket or holster. Gathering what little energy he had left, Spike suddenly rolled his body to the right, away from his foe, and chucked the dagger underhanded with a hard flick of his wrist, before he ended up on his back.

Spike's lips curled up in satisfaction when he heard the gurgling scream from his foe. Then he slipped into unconsciousness and he heard nothing at all.


Willow and her friends had jumped when they heard the crack of a rifle, and they immediately looked at the woods surrounding them. A few of the more powerful Wicca's in the group cast rapid protection spells over everyone in the clearing. When they didn't hear a second shot, everyone relaxed slightly, thinking it was only kids playing around on Halloween.

The redhead wasn't reassured at all. Spike would have showed up near the clearing to warn her of any danger or to tell her who had fired the shot. When he didn't, she became worried. "Guys, I don't like this," she said, stepping to the edge of the circle of protection.

"What do you want us to do, Willow?"

Willow pressed her lips together for a moment, then instructed, "Pair up. Head away from the clearing in all different directions for about five minutes, then come back."

She unsheathed her athame from the homemade sheath she'd added to the belt around her robe. After cutting an exit in the circle of protection, she headed west into the woods, her fellow Wicca, Greg, following her. The further she walked from the clearing, the stronger the feeling of unease overcame her. Samhain was the night the veil between the living and the dead was the thinnest, and she could feel death all around her, but not in the positive way she normally felt.

She saw the two bodies on the ground and she had to bite her tongue to keep from crying out. Putting her finger to her lips, she told Greg to keep silent, then slowly crept forward. She heard Greg chanting quietly under his breath as he stayed by her side. Pushing down her fear, she relied on her experiences as being a Slayer's sidekick to professionally observe the bodies with detachment.

Then she saw the peroxide-blond hair that had been hidden by the night, and all forced composure disappeared.

"Spike!" Willow exclaimed, rushing to the fallen vampire's side. She barely spared a glance at the other body, only long enough to note the knife embedded in his throat, before turning her full attention to her friend. She saw that Spike's eyes were open, but when she flicked on the lighter she kept in a pouch on her belt along with other important things necessary for a ritual, she saw that the blue orbs were blank and unseeing.

"Greg, run back and get the others. Hurry!" she said, running her fingers along Spike's clothing, looking for holes or the telltale wetness of blood. She didn't find any on the front, and she was trying to figure out a way to turn him over without jarring him too badly when she saw dark red on the side of his neck above the turtleneck collar of his shirt.

A few seconds later, Willow was praying to the Gods and Goddesses as she pressed the hem of her robe over the bullet hole behind Spike's ear.

Continued 1