| Needlework by Holly |
| Chapter #18 - Bathed In Moonshade |
Bathed In Moonshade He felt a shudder race through her body, and knew that she knew. Knew that their scent had pierced through the haze surrounding their lovemaking, and that she knew that their paradise had been invaded. Her fangs were still fastened in his throat, her grip on him becoming nearly unbearable, but he would sooner dive into holy water than ask her to vanquish her hold. Angel. That righteous ponce. Were it not for Buffy between them, Spike figured one of them would already be dust. How the hell had he found out? The silent standstill lasted seconds that felt like hours, but broke accordingly as all things did. When the hush subsided and Riley stepped forward, rage written in six different languages on his face, a low roar erupted from the platinum vampire’s throat. It was over then. Buffy’s fangs slid from his skin and she growled in kind, though the sound that exploded from her lips was more a wail of despair than warning, and it tore at his heart. She scampered from his lap at that, wedging herself between his back and the sofa so that Spike’s body guarded her from the humans that had barraged into her sanctuary. Her arms went around his chest, her breasts flattened against his back, and just like that, he knew. He had taught her violence tonight. An appreciation for everything vampires relished in, particularly in the kill. She was closer to it than she had ever been now. And humans were suddenly in her wake. “Get out,” Spike snarled. His mind was clouded with fury and a deep instinctive need to protect his mate. A mate in faith and words only, if not in blood. He didn’t understand it, but similarly knew better than to question his intuition. A bond forged of nothing else, but potent all the same. “No,” Riley spat. “I don’t think I’ll be doing that.” His fangs descended and his eyes blazed yellow, a terrible roar echoing through the crypt. “Bloody selfish bastard! She can’t be around people right now!” He leapt to his feet, demon sinking inward with a mournful whimper when her touch slid from his body. There was no way, though, that he would leave her unclothed in front of intruders in his home. Fuck if two of them already knew what she looked like, it didn’t matter a damn to him. “She’s a vampire. You can’t come into a vampire’s home an’ expect—” “I’m sorry, her home?” Riley’s eyes blazed. “Who the fuck decided this was her home?” “She’ll come to you when she’s ready!” “Yeah, looks like you’ve gone to great measures to make sure she’s ready.” Spike snarled again, leaning forward and gathering his t-shirt from the floor. “Jus’ given her what you couldn’t, mate.” Riley’s gaze flooded with rage and he stormed forward again. But before he could get a word in, Buffy’s voice tore through the air with a calamitous plea. Spike turned to her immediately, abandoning his outrage for a beat to return to her side, sliding his t-shirt over her bare skin. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Furthermore, the fact that he had dressed her in his clothing sent a clear message. Buffy wasn’t going anywhere. When he turned around, Angel was holding his jeans, his expression stoic. “Thanks, mate.” The elder vampire made no move to reply. Instead, without drawing his eyes away from his grandchilde, he said, “Gunn, please escort Riley outside.” “No way,” the soldier snapped icily. “I’m staying right here.” “No,” Angel retorted. “You’re really not.” “I don’t see where you have the authority to—” Angel nodded to Spike. “You heard what he said. Buffy can’t be around people. Last time I checked, that counted you.” He turned fully at that, his eyes void of negotiation. “Now get out.” “Yeah. This works out nicely for you, huh?” Gunn stepped forward at that, holding up a neutral hand. “Okay, okay. Since we’re standing in a graveyard with three vampires, one of which has no control of her fangs, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that moving our non-undead asses outside is a good idea.” Buffy nodded erratically. “Please.” There was a beat of nothing at all. Spike buttoned his jeans and returned to his lover’s side, where she promptly tugged him down to the sofa once more and wrapped her arms around his middle. And perhaps it was that visual that convinced Riley to leave. His former girlfriend clinging to the vampire he loathed above all others of his kind. Buffy asking him to leave her alone. Buffy asking him to leave her. “Fine.” Riley released a deep breath and shook his head, meeting her eyes. “Fine. Goodbye, Buffy.” And that was that. There was no doubt in Spike’s mind that the sight of the soldier’s retreating backside would be the last any of them ever saw of Riley Finn. Good bloody riddance. Once they were alone, Angel’s random bout of compassion vanished. He turned to Spike, his eyes dark and severe, without any sign of understanding. “Get up,” he all but growled, indicating to the protective stance his next-of-kin had taken in front of the sired Slayer. “Now.” Buffy’s arms tightened around him, and he laced his fingers with her over his middle. “No.” “I don’t know what you’ve done to her, but I’m not buying it.” “Well, you ungrateful sod, that would be your problem, wouldn’t it?” Angel’s gaze darkened even more. He held Spike’s eyes for a long minute before averting his attention to the Slayer behind him. At that, his features softened. “Buffy,” he said gently. “Buffy, it’s me.” Oh how bloody typical. “She knows who you are.” “I’d like to hear it from her, if you don’t mind.” The elder vampire turned back to the Slayer. “Buffy…I don’t know what he’s done to you…told you…but your friends are worried sick. You have people who love you.” His eyes flickered disdainfully to the fuming face of his grandchilde. “People that will accept you no matter what…despite what he’s told you.” Spike roared and leapt forward at that, his demon overpowering his senses. “You fucking bastard,” he snarled. “I haven’t done anythin’ to her!” Then something went wrong. Something happened. Her voice reached the air, broken and disheveled, and he felt the world around him collapse. “Yes you have,” Buffy said softly. Something inside him screamed out in anguished fury. No. God, no. This couldn’t happen. Spike whirled back to her, his eyes shining. No. Just because Angel… Angel, Angel, Angel. Always sodding Angel. “Buffy,” he gasped, shaking his head furiously. “No. God, please, no.” Before he could stop himself, his legs carried him to her, kneeling at her side. “Please. God, I love you so much. Don’t do this to me, now. I love you.” She cupped his face and smiled. “I know.” Oh God. “Buffy—” “I love you, too,” she whispered, brushing a tender kiss across his lips, and he dissolved into her. His arms came around her, his mouth devouring hers in a trembling wave of unyielding relief. For a few seconds, Angel ceased to exist. “Jesus, don’ do that to me.” “I didn’t mean to.” She shook her head, smiling against his lips. “I didn’t…it’s just…you did do something to me, sweetie. Haven’t I been saying this all along?” Angel shifted behind them. “Buffy?” The Slayer shook her head and wiped at her eyes. “I’m sorry I scared you,” she whispered to Spike, not reacting to the other vampire at all. “I just…I was going to…” “Yeh.” He smiled and kissed her forehead. “I jus’ tend to overreact at times.” “Ahem.” Spike rolled his eyes and rose to his feet, pivoting violently to his grandsire. “You heard her,” he spat. “She loves me.” “I also heard her say that you’ve done something to her.” “He’s done more than that,” Buffy agreed. “He’s been unbelievable.” She rose to her feet slowly, mindful of her unclothed lower half, but unembarrassed. “Spike gave me something no one else could have…like this. I’m…I went to him because I knew that…he would take care of me.” “And I wouldn’t?” Angel retorted, hurt. “I would’ve done…anything.” He released a shuddering sigh. “And Giles. And your mother? We would have done anything to help you. Anything.” “No.” “Buffy—” “There is no way you can convince me that you or Giles or my mom or my friends would have begun to do for me what Spike has done.” She shook her head, tears spilling forward. “You guys…all of you…with as much as I love my friends and Giles and Mom…you put me on this pedestal where I’m supposed to be perfect and never…Spike doesn’t do that. Not the way you guys do. And he’s taken more…he took care of me. I was in a daze and he brought me out. It’s been a week, Angel. A week. How can you tell me that I would have been okay after a week if I was anywhere else?” “How do you know that you wouldn’t be?” “I do.” “That’s ridiculous.” Buffy’s eyes darkened. “Then I’m ridiculous.” “How can you call yourself ‘okay?’” he demanded. “Everything…Buffy, you were sired. Dracula took everything away from you. He turned you into what you hate. What sick, twisted thing has Spike told you that made you think that could ever be okay?” “You bloody bastard,” the peroxide vampire snarled. “Stop it!” the Slayer shouted, hands flying up. “Yes, I was sired. Yes. It could’ve killed me. I drank from a dead man, and it nearly killed me. I couldn’t move without it hurting. I couldn’t do anything. Spike saved me from staking myself. He helped me find peace. He helped me…I’m violent. I need blood. I need…sex.” She glanced down and blushed slightly. “I need the things that all vampires need. But I’m still me…just wiser than before. I’m not the girl you knew.” “And that’s how you’ve justified this to yourself?” “That’s bloody priceless,” the platinum vampire barked. “You din’t see her after it happened. You weren’t here. You’re only here when it’s convenient for you, right? When you learn that ole Spike is takin’ care of the girl you jus’ din’t love enough. Given her everythin’ you were too good to give her.” “I would never have done to her what you’ve done.” “Yeh. You’re right. I love the girl too much. I mollycoddled her a bit, yeh, but I din’t shield her from the big bad world like you bloody well would have.” He shook his head with a long, shrill laugh. “You don’ know how she was. What I saved her from.” “So he finally admits it,” Buffy muttered. “You saved her?” Angel snickered incredulously. “You call keeping her in a hole in the ground with a soulless creature something worthy of what Buffy deserves? She has a soul, you idiot. She’s not like you. She can never be like you.” The Slayer’s eyes darkened. “She’s also standing right here.” “Buffy—” “No, shut up. You have no idea what happened to me. What I’ve been through.” The elder vampire blinked. “Have we entered the Twilight Zone, here?” “No, your ego’s always been this rich,” Spike spat. “I killed my sire,” Buffy responded calmly. The telling wince of pain that had haunted her throughout the week was now nonexistent. “And I was in pain. And I went to Spike because he wasn’t you. Because he wouldn’t be…he was the only one I could turn to. I still haven’t been able to go around people without nearly losing control. I—” “I killed my sire, too, Buffy. I killed her for you.” “I know.” “And that means nothing?” “It meant something once.” She shook her head. “This has nothing to do with the fact that we have souls and dead sires in common. You wouldn’t have given me what Spike did.” “So you’re grateful. There’s nothing wrong with that. But don’t mistake gratitude for love. This is Spike we’re talking about. Spike doesn’t have a soul. He’s a monster.” “I love him.” “You can’t.” Spike snickered and shook his head. “I’m not sayin’ it makes sense to me either, mate. But she loves me, an’ I love her. An’ you’re not wanted here.” “I’m not leaving without Buffy.” “I’m not going anywhere.” “Buffy—” “I’m home. I’m not going anywhere.” “Buffy, I—” That was when it happened. Angel made the mistake of stepping forward. Of taking a step too far. Of trying to get closer to her than anyone else had attempted. The only one allowed near her right now was Spike, and the elder vampire obviously wasn’t going to accept that. It was a quick decision. Her fangs burst through her gums and she jerked the platinum vampire to her, and sank her teeth into his throat. Spike moaned aloud, his hands going to her shoulders, holding her to him as she suckled at his blood. As she drew his essence into her. As she pulled back, Buffy lapped at the wound she had opened, and murmured, “Mine.” It was a strange, wondrous sensation. As though at that second, the fabric holding the universe together suddenly fit, and there were no more questions. There was no more doubt. There was nothing but this phenomenal sentiment of belonging. Her blood rejoiced, her body hummed in pleasure, and she was complete. One little word brought her the magnitude of the cosmos. All hints of pain residing within her body vanished. The wail of her demon cooed into a gentle purr, and the agony she had suffered, the same she had begun to ignore over the past couple days, suddenly ceased to exist. She felt rather than heard Spike’s moan of surrender. His hands were on her, and she was against him. He began peppering kisses across her face. She tasted tears, but didn’t know who owned them. They were one. In that instant, they were one. Then he sighed, “Yours,” into her hair, and the fabric of her subsistence fastened together and held. She had just claimed him, and he had accepted. Spike was hers. He was all around her. Pressing kisses against her skin. She felt thoroughly enveloped in him. Felt his blood rush through her, melding into her own. And pleasure burst through her. His fangs were in her throat, his arms holding her to him, and heat spread through her veins. It was unlike anything she had ever felt. Any level of ecstasy she had ever experienced. A shrill gasp touched the air as her body exploded in rapture, and his tongue traced the bite mark he had given her, holding her to him in her fall. All this before the word was even whispered. “Mine.” “Ohhhh…yours.” She was too foregone to notice they were alone. Too lost in his arms to hear the defiant slam of the front door crack through the air. There was only Spike, and the birth of this sacred union between them. Linked to him now in a bond that flooded her being with strength and love. Satisfied her demon and made the rest of her burst into exultation. “Spike…” “Mine,” he growled again. “God, Buffy…” “Yours.” Tears stung her eyes. She had spent so much time over the past few days crying. Crying for loss, crying for life, crying for death, crying for everything that had been taken away. Crying for the existence Spike had resurrected within her. She was home now. In his arms. His blood in her blood, tied together by forces beyond imagination. Tied with words of promise, but held with love. One little word. Even when he had told her, she had never imagined it possible. It didn’t matter now. Nothing did. They could conquer nations if they wanted. Spike had not only given her new life; he had given her all of himself. And if she lived a thousand millennia, she could never make it up to him. To be continued in Chapter Nineteen: Our Star Will Shine… |