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When hunting, Adam deployed the skewer on his wrist with a quick and deadly accuracy.
He made love the same way: a sudden, precise thrust, an equally sudden retraction.
Riley was torn between protesting that humans usually took their time and counting himself lucky that the demon-man had kept his contact minimal. Riley had given himself willingly—he considered it his duty to accommodate Adam's needs to the best of his abilities—but that didn't mean he'd enjoyed it.
Adam, on the other hand, paced back and forth across the hideout in a rhapsodic fervor. “Yes! I feel it. The source of life. The source of power. This is the force that humans crave! I am part of it. Through our union, I am connected to a long line of power and sensation. I am alive. I feel invigorated. I feel—”
“Adam?” Riley interrupted, smoothing his now-rumpled pants. “You didn't even really do it right.”
“Interesting.” The cyborg put two fingers to his temple, then paused a moment, apparently accessing data. “My reproductive system is active. I have eleven erogenous zones, constructed from a combination of human neural networks, tissue from three demon species, and weapons-grade titanium. I am capable of achieving sexual release in as little as seven seconds or as long as six hours, forty-nine minutes. Would you like to try again?”
This thing was getting out of hand. Riley didn't even like Adam, let alone find him sexually attractive. And he had a girlfriend. But somehow, some trace of Professor Walsh's influence must still be lingering in him, because when Adam had announced he had been “thinking about sex” and wanted Riley's help to learn more, the soldier had assented. Once, however, had been more than enough. “Uh, sorry, Adam,” he said, edging toward the door. “I've gotta go.”
He arrived at his quarters in the abandoned Sunnydale High School to find Spike nursing a bottle of whiskey.
“Spike?” Just when this day couldn't get any worse. “What are you doing here?”
The vampire took a long swallow from the bottle. “Giles kicked me out for a date. Then Xander and his ex-demon lady started getting friendly with each other. Between them and the witches, everyone's shagging but you and me.”
Riley took a step backward, his hands out in front of him. “Spike, I'm really not interested in you like that.”
Spike, who had just taken another swig of whiskey, spat it out in a roar of laughter. Riley glared at him as he wiped his mouth on his arm, still chuckling.
“Don't worry, mate,” Spike said, “You're not exactly my type. Besides, I know you only have eyes for the Slayer.”
Spike's tone was mocking, but even so, Riley looked away guiltily for a second. And, damn him, Spike picked up on it. “Or... perhaps you've got another lady somewhere?”
If only his Iowa upbringing had prepared Riley better for lying. He was certain the truth was written on his face.
“...or a bloke?” Spike lit up with an almost maniacal glee. “You and your soldier friends up to a bit of fun in the showers? Is it Graham or Forrest?” He waggled his eyebrows. “Or both?”
“It's not—” Riley began, then stopped himself quickly.
“Ah,” said Spike, “but it's someone, is it.”
“Forget it, Spike.”
“Not your soldier pals, maybe a little after hours hanky-panky with one of those demons your lot's busy domesticating?” His hand went to the back of his head where the Initiative chip had been implanted. “No,” he said slowly, bringing his hand back down. “Oh, no.” A malicious grin was spreading across the vampire's face.
“What, Spike?”
“I know who it is.”
“Spike, you can't possibly—”
“You're banging the Big Bad.”
Riley's memories of the evening grew foggy after that. Spike had tossed him the bottle of whiskey, and after drinking liberally, Riley had let the whole story come out. He remembered begging Spike not to tell Buffy. He remembered a good deal of laughter on Spike's end. He remembered Spike fingering his chip and running out abruptly, muttering something about “shag a mucus demon, if that's what it takes.” Oh, no. He had gone to see Adam. Had he...? Had they...? Had Adam...? Riley stood up, dusted himself off, and ran toward the woods.
He flung open the door to Adam's lair, prepared for the worst. He found the demon-man fully naked, reclining against the cave wall. A few feet away, Spike was smoking a cigarette, his lower half mercifully covered by a blanket.
“Riley,” Adam greeted him, rising to his feet. “I've been practicing!”
“Sure has,” said Spike, looking, if Riley wasn't mistaken, a shade paler even than usual. “You wouldn't believe the stamina on this one.”
“It was invigorating,” Adam declared.
“Yeah, for me too, love,” Spike said hastily. Turning to Riley, he added, “You should try it sometime, soldier boy. Ever shag a bloke with a metal arse before?”
Riley ignored him. “Just tell me you didn't remove his chip.”
“I have not removed his chip.”
“You're sure.”
“Don't worry, soldier boy,” Spike cut in. “No deal. I did it for the love of science and hot, scaly demon parts.”
“And why don't I believe you?”
Spike shrugged. “Same time tomorrow?” he asked Adam.
“I'll be there.”
Spike stood up, nodding in the cyborg's direction as he pulled on his clothes. Then he looked straight at Riley. “You breathe a word of this to the Scoobies and Buffy hears everything.”
“Well,” said Adam, once Spike had made his exit, his head covered by the blanket. “Shall I show you what I've learned?”
Riley backed away, trying and failing to clear his mind of the words metal arse . “No, that's okay, Adam.”
The demon-man paused, as if contemplating something.
“In fact,” Riley continued, “I don't think I'll be coming around here much anymore.”
“You are ashamed.” Adam began to pace the length of the hideout again. “I have been thinking about shame.”
And perhaps he had. But just what Adam had been thinking, Riley never learned. As soon as the demon-man's pacing took him in the other direction, Riley tiptoed to the door, exited the hideout, and ran like hell.
Some things were beyond the call of duty. Letting Adam fuck him once might not have been, but listening to another endless monologue was way over the line.