“I hate you!” Buffy screamed, throwing something on the lower level to punctuate her words.
“Yeah? You keep breaking things, and you’re not too high on my list of favorite people, princess!” Spike yelled back, gritting his teeth at the sound of her sobbing.
Grabbing a bottle of bourbon, he swallowed half of it before pulling it away from his lips, feeling the liquid burn down his throat, briefly distracting him from the woman he loved and the agony she was obviously in.
Turning toward the ladder in the crypt that led down to the lower level, Spike clenched his jaw, slamming the bottle on top of the refrigerator before storming toward it. Jumping the fifteen feet to the bottom, his feet never touching the ladder, his anger slowly faded away when he saw her curled in a corner, wrapped in the red shirt he’d given her to wear.
“Why?” she whimpered, huddled on the floor. “Why would you do this to me?”
Spike stared at her for a long moment, unable to come up with a reasonable answer. Turning away from her to go up to the top level, he jumped in surprise when he felt her powerful fists hitting his back.
“Why?” she screamed, her emotions so overwrought, she no longer knew what she needed, wanting him to hug her and hit her at the same time. “I never asked for this!”
Spinning around to catch her wrists in his hands, he held tight, rapidly backing her up until her legs hit the bed, sending her falling to the mattress. His body quickly pinned her in place, pressing her arms above her head, closing his eyes when she began thrashing and writhing beneath him, her anger and uncertainty turning to panic.
“Spike, no!”
“No, stop it!”
“I know you felt it… when I was inside you…”
“Please… please don’t do this again,” she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Please, please, Spike, please…”
“Oh God,” Spike muttered, choking back the lump in his throat. Letting go of her, he stumbled away from the bed, tears spilling down his cheeks as the emotions he’d carefully tried to conceal from her came to the surface.
Turning away when she got to her feet, wrapping her arms around herself and pulling his shirt more firmly around her, Spike pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath to control his emotions.
“Go home,” he said in a harsh whisper, staring straight ahead after a minute.
Buffy was lost. Part of her wanted to go back to her house so badly – she could practically hear the front door closing behind her – already feeling a sense of safety that came with the place she knew as home. But there was another stronger emotion that she’d never felt before. A tie to Spike that was so strong, she could no longer ignore it. In spite of what he’d done to her, she couldn’t bring herself to leave.
“Spike…”
“Please, Spike, it hurts!”
“Get out!” he yelled, spinning around to face her, his demon flashing to the surface, startling her into taking a step away from him.
Buffy’s chin quivered as she looked at him, feeling as if she was being ripped in half.
“Please don’t make me,” she whispered, sniffling slightly before blinking back the tears.
“You don’t want to stay here,” he said with a sigh.
“I can’t go home,” she said, shaking her head. “Not yet… there’s just too many questions and… please, Spike… I don’t know much about this, but…”
‘But I’m supposed to take care of you,’ he filled in silently, obviously getting lost in thought as he ran his tongue over one of his fangs.
Buffy never felt her face shift as she watched the movement. Surprised when she found herself standing next to him, the slight scent of his blood on the air made her body hum with anticipation.
Spike turned yellow eyes to hers, seeing the need reflected in her gaze. Inwardly berating himself for not taking care of her right after she’d woken up, he took a hesitant step toward her. “Hungry, pet?”
“I… I shouldn’t,” she whispered, shaking her head even as she licked her lips.
“Not gonna last long if you don’t,” he said, brushing away the loose strands of hair that had fallen free from her ponytail. “Need to eat.”
Buffy’s pupils dilated as she stared at him, almost transfixed on his neck. Looking into his eyes for a moment, seeing the nod that he gave her, she briefly closed her eyes, unsure of what she was about to do.
Spike’s jaw clenched when she bit into his neck, taking deep pulls of his blood. The bite stung, clearly that of a fledgling who had never bitten anyone before. All of her teeth were firmly imbedded in his neck instead of just her fangs, hungrily taking what she could from him.
Spike’s head dropped to Buffy’s shoulder, leaving light kisses and feeling her shiver in response. Growing painfully hard in his jeans, he was determined to not let anything happen between them. After taking her so roughly the night before –assaulting her body and then taking her life – he knew he couldn’t treat her that way again.
Her soul was still there, but now it was warring with the demon inside of her. He knew that she was strong enough to rein in the demon, knowing that he would help teach her how to curb the desires, but he wouldn’t teach her that through sex. Still feeling too guilty about his actions.
Putting slight pressure on the place where her neck met her shoulder with his hand, Spike gently forced her to ease off, nuzzling her hair as the face of the demon faded away, leaving her to still take what she could as her hand came up to the other side of his neck, holding him in place.
“I love you,” he whispered, needing to reassure himself of that fact as much as Buffy.
Moaning at the erotic experience, Buffy was lost to the world, only feeling the body of her sire against her, his blood still fresh on her tongue. Part of her told her that this was wrong – this was a man who had violated her only hours earlier - but the other part desperately needed to feel a connection with him.
Reaching between them, she roughly gripped his erection, hearing him groan in response. Frantically working the button and zipper of his jeans, Buffy ignored his mild protests, growing frustrated when he tried to restrain her. Slamming her fist into his nose, a thrill went through her when Spike’s face shifted, growling at her. Instinctively knowing that this was his way to keep her in line, she smashed her lips against his, jumping into his arms, trembling in anticipation when she felt his hands gripping her ass, pressing her against the wall.
“Take me,” she whispered frantically when his lips broke away from hers to trail down her neck, his fangs dragging along her skin, leaving thin rivulets of blood in his wake. “Please, Spike.”
Knowing that the demon had taken over her desires, Spike tried to restrain himself. Taking in a sharp breath when she reached between them to free his erection, pumping him up and down a few times before moving the shirt out of the way, directing him to her center, Spike’s hands tightened on her skin.
“We shouldn’t,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. “Don’t want to hurt you again.”
“Do I look like I’m hurting?” Buffy asked, unsure of where her answer came from, too lost in need as she ran the tip of his cock along her entrance.
Spike took a deep breath, coming to a decision as he thrust into her. He roughly held onto her hips, slamming his hips against hers, spurred on by the sounds she was making. The feel of her fingernails digging into his back briefly brought him back to reality. “Are you okay?”
“Don’t stop!” she cried, her face shifting as she arched her back, her shoulders resting against the wall of the crypt as he thrust into her, his cock rubbing her at the right angle with every stroke. The mindless cries and screams grew louder as she neared her climax, her face shifting at the point that she began to lose control. “Spike… I-I need…”
Lunging at her throat in response, he reopened the scar on her neck as Buffy screamed, her inner muscles spasming around him, her hands wrapping around the back of his neck as she held him in place.
Frantically meeting his thrusts, her own fangs found their way back to his neck, her lips closing over the wound, feeling the familiar signs of his impending orgasm. Biting down more viciously, the pain mixed with the pleasure as Spike slammed her against the wall, his muscles tensing as he gasped for air, slowly coming down from his climax.
Buffy lightly lapped at the blood on his neck, feeling him do the same to her before his forehead fell to her shoulder.
“That was… that was…”
“Yeah,” he agreed with a breathless laugh, lightly rubbing her thighs.
“I belong to you, don’t I?”
Spike slowly stood up a little straighter, tilting his head as if he was searching for any type of animosity in her tone.
“You… I don’t know.”
Buffy frowned as he lowered her to the floor. “What do you mean, you don’t know?” she asked, catching his arm before he could turn away from her.
Spike avoided her eyes as he zipped his jeans, thinking of what he could tell her. “Under normal circumstances… yes, you would.”
“Because I’m the Slayer,” she filled in, still looking at him.
“That’s part of it,” he said, raising his eyes to hers, seeing the confusion in her gaze.
“And the other part?” she asked.
Spike sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You have a soul.”
Buffy quickly looked at the floor at the surprising feel of tears burning her eyes. Forcing a laugh, she shook her head. “Guess it’s only fitting,” she said, wiping her eyes.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked skeptically.
“My payback, I guess… I made such a big deal about you not having a soul and now…”
The one thing that had kept her from him, was now playing the part in keeping him from her.
“That’s not what I’m saying, Slayer.”
“Then what are you saying?” she asked wearily, looking up at him.
“Nothing’s changed, Buffy. I’m still the same I was, and you…”
“And I’m not,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I don’t fit. I feel like I’m alive and I’m not. I feel like I’m normal, and I’m not. And this is all so new and I just…” Trailing off in a choked voice, Buffy angrily wiped the tears away that spilled over.
“Do you want to be with me?” Spike asked, the same indifferent expression on his face as he stared at her.
“I do,” she whispered with a hesitant nod.
“Just because you don’t want to be alone-”
“That’s not it,” she said angrily. “What do you want me to say? I was stupid, alright? Is that what you need to hear? Me being the Slayer and you being a vampire… it didn’t work.”
“And it works now?” he replied skeptically.
“You’re my sire,” she whispered in a lost voice, seeing his eyes soften slightly. “You’re my…”
“What?” he asked, taking a step toward her. “I’m your – what?”
“My mate,” she said instinctively, her brow furrowing in confusion that she understood something that had never been explained to her. Looking into his eyes, she felt a sense of completion that she wasn’t sure about. “You’re my mate,” she said, her voice taking on a stronger quality.
Spike hesitated for a moment before he nodded, closing his eyes when she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. He knew that she craved some form of closeness right now, and wasn’t about to deny her. Holding onto her, he rested his cheek against the top of her head, feeling her relax after a few moments.
“You don’t belong to me, Buffy,” he said, finally answering her earlier question, gently kissing her when she pulled back to look at him. “I belong to you.”
Buffy relaxed, biting her lip as she avoided his eyes, feeling free for the first time in years. “Why don’t we compromise?” she said, pushing him toward the bed, her hands pushing his shirt up his chest until he reached behind him, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the side, his muscles tensing when her fingernails dragged over his skin. “You belong to me for the next few hours,” she said with a coy smile.
Spike chuckled. “And after that?”
“I’m seeing a role reversal in the future,” she said, pushing him down to the bed. Straddling his waist, she lowered her lips to his, threading her fingers through his hair, enjoying the feel of his body next to hers as his hands lightly gripped her hips.
She didn’t care about their past. She didn’t care about the night before, choosing to remember it for what it was: a moment of desperation for him that led to a realization for her.
Everything was different, but she felt more complete than she had in years. Sitting up a moment later, her eyes widened as she looked at him.
“Something wrong, love?” Spike asked, surprised at the sudden change in her.
“I never realized,” she murmured, never looking away from his eyes.
“Realized… what?”
And I was warm… and I was loved… and I was finished.
“That I’m still me.”