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| In Dreams, What May... - Chapter 1 | | | | abc + + + | | | 
Chapter 1
“Whose nightmare is this?” Xander queried as he looked around the darkened graveyard. It certainly didn’t seem that bad; it was nothing compared to killer clowns or being naked, anyway. He brought his attention back to his companions, prepared to make a quip about how this was just another day in Sunnydale for the Scoobie gang. With a start, he noticed the look of shocked resignation on the normally stoic librarian’s face; Giles was paused statue-still, staring intently at a gravestone. Xander moved closer to look at what could possibly have caused the blood to drain so completely from the older man’s face.
“It’s mine.” Giles’s voice echoed with the loss of hope as he knelt reverently next to the marker. His movement affording the others their first clear view of the inscription thereon: Buffy Summers 1981 - 1997.
“I've failed... in my duty to protect you. I should have been more c... cautious. Taken more time to train you. But you were so gifted. And the evil was so great. I'm sorry...”
A sinister laugh broke through the blanket of grief that had descended upon the trio by the graveside. “Well, well… What have we here?” The black-clad bleached blonde flowed out of the shadows, every movement graceful and predatory; waves of fear travelled before him, waiting to absorb those caught in their wake.
“Heard this town is home to the Slayer. Now, I don’t sense her ‘round here anywhere, but I sure as hell know a Council wanker when I see one. So what’s it to be—you tell me where I can find the Slayer and I kill you real quick? Or…” A deep throaty chuckle completely absent of humour, and dripping with menace sounded before the newcomer continued, his voice low and dangerous, “Better still, you don’t tell me where she is… And I get to kill you, really slowly.”
“Oh, my dear lord. Run, now.” Giles faced the vampire, fingers searching his pockets frantically for the stake that he knew he would not find there. He only hoped he could buy enough time for the children to get safely away.
Giles swallowed hard against the lump in his throat; this is what he had trained for. It was just a vampire—just a vampire. The creature stalked towards him, long black coat flowing behind him, piercing blue eyes promising pain and death. It was at that moment that Giles realised that the vampire still bore its human features. The realisation made his blood run colder than it had before; only vampires of incredible strength and power were able to hold their human features firmly in place even while hunting.
“You’re too late—if you’re looking for the Slayer, that is.”
“Oh? An’ why’s that then?”
“Well, because she’s… well, she’s there.” Giles pointed to the grave he had been kneeling at only moments before.
“’s that so? Well then, I guess she won’t be missin’ her watcher, will she?”
Faster than the vampire’s words could register in his brain, Giles found himself held in a vice-like grip. He heard the bones in the vampire’s face shift and then the sharp stinging pain as its fangs sank into his neck. Struggle as he might, he was unable to break the vampire’s grip, and felt himself growing weaker by the moment as his blood was drawn from him in strong, vicious pulls.
The sound of earth being displaced drew the vampire’s attentions from his meal; dropping the watcher to the ground, he spun around in time to see a shapely hand emerge from the freshly turned soil. Amber eyes searched the graveyard for signs of the others of his kind. Where was this childe’s sire? If what the watcher had told him was true, the fledgling fighting to emerge from the depths was none other than the Slayer herself. Who would sire such a childe and not be here to welcome her into their dark world?
His features slipped back into the smooth planes and chiselled good looks of his human visage as he moved to kneel by the graveside, and he watched as the newly-turned vampire below the surface heaved her way out and into the night.
“Well, hello, cutie.” He reached a hand out to help her from her grave.
She stepped from the grave and, releasing his hand, dusted the dirt from her clothes and hair.
Satisfied that she was at least as presentable as you can be after just crawling out from beneath six feet of dirt, she narrowed her gaze at the blonde stranger. “Who are you?”
“M’ names, Spike, love. You?” Burning blue eyes took in her lithe form, beginning at her face and trailing slowly down her body, sliding back up again to meet with her luminous amber ones.
Buffy’s eyes travelled equally slowly over his body, finishing at his face. Wow, big chunk of salty goodness; I thought this was supposed to be nightmare day, not dreams come true day. “Buffy.”
“What was that?” He smirked, his eyes lighting with mirth and mischief.
“I said, Buffy. That’s my name.” She huffed. Ok, cute and sexy, but also, annoying!
“Right then, pet. Buffy it is.” He managed, barely, to keep the laughter out of his voice. His head tilted and his left eyebrow raised slightly as he surveyed her once more. Buffy noted with interest that he had a rather sexy scar running through that particular eyebrow, and wondered briefly what it would be like to nibble along it.
“You feelin’ hungry by any chance, kitten?”
Once the words were spoken she realised that she was indeed hungry; beyond hungry, in fact. Her mouth watered as a delectable scent filled her nostrils.
“Yeah, starving…What’s on offer?” Buffy looked at him as though he might suddenly start sprouting prime ribs or jelly donuts.
“Well, by all rights, pet, should be sire’s blood for you. But seein’ as your sire hasn’t bothered to show… How’s about a little priggish watcher to tide you over for a bit; ‘least till we find you something better, that is.” Spike gently took her arm and turned to lead her over to where he had dropped the watcher on the grass. He pulled up short when she didn’t move to follow him. He turned back around and to his astonishment she was running her hands over her face and keening quietly.
“’s wrong, pet?” For the world, he could not work out what had her so upset. He stepped forward to wrap a comforting arm around her slim shoulders. “Easy, love. What could possibly be so bad to have you in such a state?”
At his urging, she finally removed her hands from her face to reveal once more her beautiful amber eyes and the distinctive brow-ridges of her demon face. “Look at me, I’m ugly. And, oh God, I’m a vampire. You need to get out of here. Get away from me.” She made to cover her face once more but was prevented from doing so as the gorgeous blonde grabbed her wrists, his grip surprisingly strong.
“For starters,” he leaned down and forced her to look him in the eye, “you are not ugly. You're bloody beautiful. And secondly, pet, I have no need to get away from you.” With that, he allowed his vampiric features to surge forth. Her sharp hiss of indrawn breath and automatic shift out of his hands and into fighting stance took him by surprise; her spinning kick to his jaw sent him flying backwards.
“Bloody hell, woman. What was that for?” He rubbed his jaw; bint had a damned good kick on her.
“I… You’re a vampire!”
“Yeah! An’ so are you. What of it?”
“But, I… How, I mean…”
“What do you mean? Cause you’re not makin’ a lot of sense, love. You must remember being turned…who your sire is?”
“No. That’s just it. I wasn’t. I mean I’m not. I can’t be.” Buffy drew a deep, no longer necessary, breath. “This morning, I was in school. And then—things —started happening. Odd things, like spiders, and this boy and a big ugly man—that’s what the boy called him, ‘the ugly man.’ Then we were running away, and we climbed through a hedge and wound up here, but it was suddenly dark. And then the Master came. He grabbed me and threw me in the grave, and buried me. But there was no with the bitey, and, and… This just can’t be happening. And oh God, am I hungry.”
Spike chuckled. “That’s ‘cause you are yet to feed. Like I said before, by rights your sire shoulda been here when you rose. But, seein’ as he’s not… ‘An that you say you don’t even have a sire…” he raised his hands in the air in a sign of truce and walked slowly back to where the slayer/vampire stood uncertainly. “C’mere, love. S’alright, let me take care of you.” He reached out and gently stroked her cheek, sliding his hand upwards, fingers spread to tangle gently into the honey waves of her hair. With his thumb he firmly but tenderly rubbed her brow ridges before stepping closer, his hand leaving her face to cup the back of her head and guide her gently to his neck.
Spike hissed as the Slayer’s fangs slid into his throat, pulling deeply on the strong blood of her surrogate sire. He allowed her to feed longer than a sire would normally allow; his dick throbbing harder in his jeans at each consecutive draw his ‘childe’ made. The sensation was intoxicating, and it was with great reluctance that he finally pushed her away. “That’s enough for now, kitten.”
When Buffy refused to stop, a low warning growl issued from him, quickly quelling any further rebellious thought the new vampire may have had. She ducked her face in apology and burrowed in against his chest; everything was just happening so fast. She was scared, she was a vampire and she was alone. Her friends could be anywhere. But as his arms tightened around her, she realised she was wrong about one thing: she was not alone.
Spike lifted her face until she looked him in the eye, her softer human features and brightly shining green eyes in place now that hunger no longer drove her demon forward.
“Right. Now I’m just gonna finish up with my meal an’ then we need to think about somewhere to stay.”
Spike strode over to where the watcher had fallen, but as he cast his eyes around, he saw no sign of his misplaced meal. “Damn.” He scented the air, the sweet aroma of fresh blood led away and out of the cemetery grounds. “Looks like dinner's buggered off.” With a frustrated growl, he turned back to the girl he had come to Sunnydale to kill, and whom he had now claimed as his childe. “C’mon, kitten. Let’s see if we can find some decent digs for the night.”
tbc
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| In Dreams, What May... - Chapter 2 | | | | abc + + + | | |
They reached the cemetery gates and looked out in amazement into a sunlit world. Buffy started through the gate and yelped as Spike grabbed her arm, roughly hauling her back.
“Ow. What was that for?”
“Sunlight, pet. You were right—whatever’s goin’ on here ‘s weird, but it doesn’t change the fact that you,” he stabbed a finger at her, “are a vampire. You go out in that sun, and dust is all you’ll be.”
“Oh, God. I forgot. I’m sorry… I just… I wasn’t thinking.” A shudder of fear ran through her at the thought of how close she had come to committing accidental suicide.
He gathered her close against him, feeling her body tremble slightly in his arms. “Yeah, well… ‘s time to start thinking, ok?” he asked gruffly, his tone softened by his concern for her. She nodded against his chest and, satisfied that the lesson was well learned, he released her. “C’mon, let’s see what we can find round here.”
They headed off through the night-shrouded grounds, Buffy happily deferring to the older vampire’s knowledge as to what made a good lair. His urgency somewhat of a mystery to her, she finally ventured the courage to ask him what the rush was.
“’s obvious this is all some kinda spell pet. So, same deal as before at the gate; we get caught out here when whatever it is that’s causing this wears off, an’ you an’ me—nothin’ but two big piles of dust.”
A chill ran down her spine at his words. Ok, he was right; she was so going to have to start thinking. Everything she had ever taken for granted no longer applied. She needed to start listening to her vampire instincts, and fast.
Spike’s voice cut through her self-flagellation.
“Now this looks promising.” He led the way into an old crypt, the heavy oak doors giving reluctantly under the force of the sharp blows administered to them. The inside was musty, with cobwebs and dust littering all surfaces, but it was roomy. Although two small windows graced the walls, they were made of stained glass and mostly covered on the outside by foliage from the creeper that adorned the crypt, preventing any sunlight from filtering through. All things considered, it had the makings of a very nice lair; even Buffy, early in her vamp-hood, could see that.
*****
Giles stumbled out of the cemetery grounds and into the sunlight, sinking exhaustedly to his knees on the warm grassy verge. The pain from the wound on his neck barely registered over the anguish in his heart. His slayer was gone. Truthfully, she was worse than gone—she had become the evil she had fought so valiantly against. Slow silent tears ran unacknowledged down his face.
Time passed unheeded by the grieving man; whether he had been there five minutes or five hours, he could not say. All he knew was the torturous grief that filled his being, the keen awareness that he was in no small measure responsible for the fate that had befallen his charge—a girl he had come to love as dearly as if she were his own daughter.
“Quick! I found him. He’s over here.” Xander’s excited voice broke through the cloud of misery surrounding him, and he shook himself to clear his head. Yes, he had lost Buffy; but her friends were all right, and it was the least he could do to see that they stayed that way. He must ensure their safety until such time as they were able to ascertain the cause of, and eliminate, the current state of mayhem that had so recently overtaken the town.
Before he had had time to completely gather his thoughts, he found himself staring into the eager faces of the children whose fates and security he was taking it upon himself to preserve. Willow threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. After a few moments, she pulled back to look at him; he noted that her face was a combination of sheer delight that he was still amongst the living and trepidation over the current state of events.
“You’re ok! We were so worried! And that vampire… Giles, he was really scary. Like Nightmare on Elm Street scary!”
“Oh yeah, Will—cause watching it with your head hidden under a quilt would be a good way to know how scary it was.” Xander seized the opportunity with both hands and quickly adopted the air of male superiority that he so seldom got away with, considering the company he chose to keep.
“I could hear it. And I have a highly vivid imagination, I’ll have you know.”
“Children.” Giles tried weakly to interrupt the two teenagers, his voice quiet and feeble even to his own ears.
“Besides, I’m not the one who got all freaked out over Dumbo!” Willow raised her eyebrow scornfully at her friend.
“Hey! I’ll have you know that was completely justified. Those clowns were evil! Why is it that I’m the only one who sees the evil in them?” he whined pitifully in response.
“Xander, it’s a cartoon .”
“There is truth in that, yes. But I still maintain that they definitely rated super-high on the creep-o-meter.”
Giles drew a deep breath; summoning every ounce of his remaining strength, he tried once more to interrupt the arguing teenagers. His effort, although slightly louder than his last, still failed to break through the petty squabbling in which the two were so deeply engaged. It did, however, drain the last of his reserves, and with a pain-filled groan he sank to his side on the grass and waited for the comforting embrace of oblivion.
His slow descent to the ground succeeded where his efforts at speech had failed, catching Willow’s eye and breaking the argument immediately.
“Giles! Are you alright?” Willow attempted vainly to pull the watcher up off the ground.
“I rather think not.” Giles tried to keep his voice as calm and even as possible, even as the overwhelming urge to close his eyes and welcome unconsciousness became stronger.
“Oh my. Xander, help me! We need to get him to a hospital… I… I think he’s been bitten!”
“What? No! That can’t be—the G-man wouldn’t be beaten by…”
“By what, Xan? The scariest vampire either of us have ever laid eyes on?” Willow retorted, again raising a sceptical eyebrow at her friend. Honestly, he could be so dense…
“I wish Buffy was here.” Xander’s voice rose in an unmanly squeak as panic ripped through him.
“Yeah, me too. But she isn’t, so you’re gonna have to help me.” Willow fixed her friend with what she hoped was a firm, unwavering resolve-face, while on the inside she trembled with fear and uncertainty. Giles had to be alright! With Buffy gone, he was all they had left.
*****
Spike set to dusting off the large stone sarcophagus in the centre of the room; when he had finished, he held out his hand to Buffy, silently inviting her to sit.
Buffy removed the pale blue leather jacket she was wearing and sneered worriedly at the sarcophagus before pouting down at her lovely jacket where it lay in her arms.
“What’s wrong, pet?” Spike asked, noting the none-too-happy look on his childe’s face.
“It’s all dirty,” she pouted at him. “I’ll ruin my clothes.”
“Well, sit on your jacket if you’re that worried. ‘s not like it’s gonna kill you or anything—‘s only a little dust.”
“But I don’t wanna get my new jacket dirty. It cost me a lot of money—and it’s pretty. Why don’t you put yours on there?” Her eyes lit up at her solution.
“No bloody way!”
“Why not? Yours is old, and besides it’s black so it won’t show up any of the dirt.” Her lip jutted out in a perfect pout, and she ducked her head and looked up at him through her eyelashes. “Please?”
She was bloody adorable. And that lip—god how he ached to taste it.
“This coat ‘s worth a hell of a lot more’n that little thing you’re wearin’. ‘sides, I’ve had it a long time, an’ it’s—significant.”
“What do you mean ‘it's significant’? I mean, what kind of big worldly importance can a coat have? It just keeps you warm... except, you know, you don't get cold. And hey! Why do you have to talk like that? God, you sound just like my watcher, only... not.”
“Talk like what, pet? You mean use words over two syllables?” He chuckled softly to himself at the look of indignation on her pretty little face. Realisation of the rest of her comment caused the laughter to die as suddenly as it had begun. “Oi, you little bint! I sound nothin’ like your bleedin’ ponce of a Watcher!”
“Geesh, you don’t have to get all like… that . So?”
“So what?” Spike looked at her, his brow creasing; it was hard work following this one round the bends.
Buffy’s pout grew, and she huffed impatiently at her proxy sire. “So what is so important about a silly old coat?”
“Took it off the last Slayer I killed, that’s what. ‘ve had this beauty for twenty years, an ‘m not about to ruin it just so your pretty little behind doesn’t get a bit grubby.”
“What?!”
“I said, I’m not gonna ruin the coat just…”
“No. About the Slayer. You killed a Slayer?”
A self-satisfied grin lit Spike’s face, and his chest puffed out a bit as he replied. “No, luv. I haven’t killed a Slayer—I’ve killed two!” He waited for her adoration, or at the very least her surprise and awe… the last thing he expected was what he got.
Tears pricked his eyes as he clutched his nose. The bitch hit me! A deep growl sounded in his throat, and his fist shot out in reply.
They faced off, both falling immediately into fighting stance: one completely brassed off vampire, and his equally pissed slayer/childe.
They danced around the room, fists and feet flying, fangs flashing as they pummelled each other—each of them fuelled by self-righteous indignation and the thrill of the fight.
Eventually, the older vampire succeeded in pinning his wayward childe against the wall; he growled his fury at her before sinking his fangs deeply and roughly into her soft tender flesh. In deep draws, he pulled on the delicious nectar of her slayer’s blood; Spike drank until she whimpered softly in submission, then gently licked the wounds closed before gathering her close in his arms. He nuzzled gently and soothingly into her hair, stroking her back with long, calming sweeps of his hand. The aim had not been to hurt her; rather, his intent had just been to teach her her place. Now that the lesson had been learned, he allowed himself to soften, his voice quiet when next he spoke.
“Shush , luv. ‘S ok now. You just be remembering your manners, pet, an’ we won’t have this problem again.”
He picked her up and carried her to the sarcophagus. He placed her so that she stood on her feet, resting weakly against the stone; removing his coat, he bundled it tightly before placing it down at one end before picking her up once more and laying down carefully. Spike settled comfortably on his back, his head pillowed on his coat as he gathered the girl’s pliant body against him, tucking her against his side with her head resting on his shoulder.
“You wanna tell me what that was all about?”
“You... You killed Slayers!” Buffy tried to be vehement, but her reply came out weak; she was too busy fighting the overwhelming urge to let her eyes drift closed and allow sleep to claim her.
“Yeah. But ‘m still not understanding why you went all Xena on me?”
“I’m a Slayer, Spike. It’s… well… it’s wrong. That’s all.”
“You were a Slayer, luv. Not any more. You’re a vampire now, kitten, an’ our world is dog eat dog. You kill the Slayer, or she’ll kill you. ‘s as simple as that. You go feelin’ all kinship-like with the Slayer an I’ll be mournin’ your dust. You understand what I’m sayin”?”
After a few moments of silence he felt a slight nod of her head against him and a soft sob as she snuggled deeply into his chest, clinging closely to the only person she had left in the world as if terrified he would be taken from her.
Spike hauled her gently on top of him, tilting his head and manoeuvring her head against his neck. “Drink, luv. ‘s alright. Just don’t you be bloody hitting me again, you understand?”
Even with his vampire-enhanced hearing he barely made out her softly spoken agreement. Her fangs pierced his neck, and a rush of lust had his cock jumping to attention as his arms tightened protectively around her. This time when he told her it was enough, she stopped without hesitation or argument, licking tenderly at the wounds to heal them.
“Ok, pet. Let’s get some sleep.”
She shifted off of him and moved to his side; gently she curled herself around him, her head pillowed on his shoulder and her left leg thrown over his. The combination of his cool fingers gently stroking her hair and the safe comfort of her sire’s presence soon had her drifting off to sleep, a quiet purr sounding in her throat.
Spike lay awake for some time. He watched Buffy as she slept peacefully in his arms and marvelled at the incredible turn of events that had brought this slayer to him. He had come here to kill her, to add another notch to his belt. To prove something to himself—and to another. Instead, he had ended up with the slayer as his childe. His mind spun with seemingly endless questions.
Strangely, the feeling of her tiny body wrapped around him was rapidly driving out all of the thoughts and agendas that had driven him in recent months. The gentle contented purr emanating from her slowly lulled him towards sleep, and his eyes drifted closed as he allowed the soothing tones of his childe’s affection wash over him.
tbc
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| In Dreams, What May... - Chapter 3 | | | | abc + + + | | | 
The quiet reassuring beeps of the machines were Willow’s current lifeline; they and the hand she clung to desperately kept her anchored in a world that had suddenly become terrifyingly uncertain. Xander was alternating between blind panic and macho reassurance, neither of which were doing much to calm Willow’s frazzled nerves. The doctors had worked on Giles for hours; he had been given a blood transfusion, and the worried teenagers had been informed that it was now a matter of waiting for him to regain consciousness. The two teenagers had sat with him for the last several hours, Willow stationed diligently by his side, clinging fast to his hand and willing him to open his eyes with her every thought. Xander, unable to stand the tension in the room and not exactly good at waiting, would sit for a while before wandering the halls in search of vending machines or other distractions.
Xander didn’t cope well with sick people, and to see Giles lying there looking so completely helpless unnerved him more than he cared to admit. There were certain constants in his life, and he needed them all. Willow would always be his friend. His parents would always suck, big-time. Buffy would always be the Slayer and would protect them from the evil things of this world. And Giles… Giles would always be strong and brave and would always know exactly what to do in every situation. The latter of those certainties had been severely challenged within a single day, with Buffy’s death and Giles’ incapacity, and the resulting effect was that he was left feeling more scared and lost than he could remember feeling in a very long time.
*****
Buffy had a moment of complete disorientation upon waking, a moment that increased in length once she realised that she was in strange surroundings and curled around a strong male body. What? Where? Then she remembered. An unneeded breath caught in her throat. I’m a vampire… Oh god, I’m a vampire. What am I gonna do? Mommy… I want my…well, at least I don’t want to kill her. That has to be good, right? But why don’t I? Angel said that all vampires do. She looked down at the man—no, vampire… he was a vampire like her—sleeping peacefully beside her. He was her Sire… well, not technically, but he felt like her Sire, and… wow was he gorgeous. Her eyes ran hungrily over the sharp planes of his face, the long thick eyelashes brushing against his cheek, the curls loosened by sleep that her fingers longed to play with.
He had been so good to her, this stranger; he had taken her under his wing, caring for her when she was lost and scared. He had given her his blood, Sire’s blood, when she was hungry and had kept her safe from the sunlight and her own stupidity. She thought guiltily about the fight they’d had and how he had stopped her and put her in her place; but then, afterwards, he had been so gentle with her, tender and caring. It had felt so good going to sleep wrapped around him, just knowing that she was safe and that he would look after her. Being a vampire was so far nothing like she had imagined it would be. The horror stories she had heard from both her Watcher and Angel had her convinced that vampires were pure evil and cared for nothing and no one, that they were completely driven by selfish desires and bloodlust, and yet this vampire had taken her under his wing when he’d had no need to. He could just as easily have killed her, or left her to fend for herself in the harsh and suddenly frightening real world. Instead, he had been kind and loving and protective, and it felt so good just being near him—it felt safe, peaceful even. She didn’t have to fight off uncontrollable urges to go and kill her family and friends; in fact, the only time she had had any loss of control was when she had been so hungry, but Spike had fed her and once she was full she was fine again.
Her eyes wandered once more to the blonde vampire in question, eagerly absorbing every detail. He was slim, but in no way skinny; she could see the lines of his muscles under his oh-so-tight t-shirt, and she knew that he was seriously well-built despite his lean frame. His face was gorgeous; when he was awake, it was handsome, but now, when he lay still, relaxed and sleeping, it was simply beautiful. She allowed her eyes to travel lower, taking in the strong abdominals rippling below his shirt, the slim waist, the…
Her thoughts were interrupted by a dry chuckle and a warm, molten-chocolate voice still husky from sleep. “See something you like, pet?”
With a start, she dragged her eyes away from the very obvious bulge in his jeans and up to the mischievous blue eyes laughing up at her.
“I... um…” Buffy faltered, not knowing how to voice the feelings he was stirring in her.
“C’mere, pet,” he invited, still chuckling softly. He held his arm out, urging her to him.
Buffy hesitated for only a second and then moved to slip into his arms, welcoming his touch as he pulled her close to his body and snuggled her in against his side. His head tilted slightly as he looked at her, almost as though he were trying to solve a puzzle. He smiled gently and reassuringly before slowly leaning in to capture her lips with his. The kiss was beyond chaste, was really just the barest whisper of a touch, but still it sent shocks racing through her body, making her ache for more. Spike’s arm tightened slightly around her, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss, and he took her soft moan as all the encouragement he required to continue.
When her tongue tentatively traced his bottom lip, he groaned hungrily and parted his lips to allow her the access that she had silently requested. Her timid explorations were exciting him more than he would have imagined possible, and he responded with gentle explorations of his own in reply. His hands traced her body, stroking her back, tangling in the long golden waves of her hair, reaching down to cup her bum and pull her closer still. He crushed her against him in an effort to ease some of the need in his aching cock. He felt her slight recoil when her body encountered the erection that was straining to break free from the confines of his jeans and broke from her lips to soothe her gently. Pressing his lips against her ear, he murmured softly, “’S alright ,luv. Nothing has to happen that you don’t want to. We’ll just take it nice an’ slow.”
Buffy moved closer to her proxy sire’s gorgeous body, desperately wanting to show him that she was more than ready and that ‘slow’ was the last thing she was interested in. She hadn’t meant to flinch away; it wasn’t that she didn’t want him, or that she was scared—she just hadn’t expected him to be so… well, big . The feel of it had given her a momentary start, but now that the initial shock was over all she wanted was to get closer to his beautiful body. His lips and hands were working together to send her senses into rapid overload; the gentle slide of his tongue, the soft lips caressing hers, and the long cool fingers tracing fire across her body were combining to drive her insane with need.
Spike’s fingers slid below the hem of her shirt, trailing gently over the soft skin of her back before sliding around to the front and slowly easing his way up from her waist to cup one small, soft breast. His thumb flicked gently across her lace-covered nipple, repeating the action once more when she gasped and then moaned with pleasure as she arched her back to press herself more firmly into his hand. He smiled at her reaction to his touch and gently pinched the eager flesh between his thumb and forefinger in reward, eliciting further moans and whimpers of delight from the girl at his side as she pressed ever closer to him. He quickly divested her of her flimsy top and reached down to trace the lacy patterns of her bra with his lips and teeth, his tongue flicking out to tease her aching nipple before catching it in his teeth and squeezing gently before soothing once more with gentle licks. His fingers worked the clasp of the garment, and he slowly lowered the pristine white lace to reveal the soft golden skin of her breasts, the dusky pink areolas puckered tightly as her nipples reached for further contact with her lover’s talented mouth.
At her eager response to his caresses, lying on his side Spike drew Buffy’s leg up and over his hip, cupping her bum and stroking the soft curves before pulling her body tighter against his. All the while, his mouth continued to exert wicked torture upon her sensitive nipples. This time, when his straining erection came in contact with her moist centre she didn’t flinch away; instead, she tried to enhance the feeling and tentatively moved against him. The obvious pleasure he derived from her movements, as well as the exquisite sensations they caused in her own aching flesh, encouraged Buffy to bolder experimentation; she ground harder against him, gasping in delight as her clit rubbed against the rough denim covering his incredibly hard cock.
She had to touch him, to feel his body. She grasped the hem of his t-shirt and pushed it upwards urgently, her hands desperate to get to the skin below. With a pleased chuckle at her obvious need, Spike released the nipple he had been happily suckling on and pulled his shirt over his head, moaning happily as her hands laid claim to his newly-exposed flesh. His continued attention to her breasts, his hands that were leaving trails of fire wherever they touched, and the pulsing need at her core as she ground herself against her Sire’s erection had Buffy floating somewhere above herself, keening in delight and desperate need. She was lost in a delirious miasma of pleasure that seemed to grow greater, more all-encompassing, by the moment. He closed his blunt human teeth down sharply on the over-sensitised nipple he had been worrying with his tongue, sending her body racing over the edge into wave after wave of blinding orgasm as he worked her body to extend her pleasure. His hips bucked towards her, and he rubbed his hard-on against her as he sought to not only increase her enjoyment but also to ease some of the desperate ache continuing to build in his own body.
Her desperate gasps for unneeded breath slowed, and her pleasure glazed eyes focused once more upon his. Spike reached for the zip of her skin-tight pants, his own need building to an unbearable level; he peeled the pants off of her, leaving her clad only in a delicate scrap of perfect white lace. He pushed her onto her back and moved down her body to settle between her thighs; reaching out with his tongue, he traced the outline of her outer lips through the thin fabric and gloated as she bucked upwards and began to pant again. The taste and scent of her assaulted his senses and he couldn’t stop the hungry groan that passed his lips, the sound vibrating against her and causing a fresh flood of juices to further soak her panties.
With tongue and teeth he launched his attack, driving her rapidly to the brink of orgasm but never quite allowing her over that edge. After what seemed an eternity of torture, he grasped the fabric in his teeth and tore the panties from her body. His face hovered a fraction of an inch from her now-exposed pussy as he breathed deeply, inhaling the rich musky scent of her need before exhaling a long cool breath across her throbbing clit. He reached out to lap tenderly at her, tasting her arousal as his tongue dipped between her folds and then delved eagerly into her depths. Her moans increased in urgency, her body writhing in pleasure under his expert ministrations.
Buffy’s fingers entwined in his hair, desperately holding him to her, seeking greater contact as he drove her to the brink of orgasm over and over again, all the while cruelly withholding the final release. Her whimpers reached fever pitch and he finally took pity on her, suckling and nibbling on her throbbing clit as he gently inserted two fingers into her slick passage, seeking out and finding her sweet spot. Her hips rose urgently in time with the thrust of his fingers; when he bit down sharply on her clit with his blunt human teeth, her body exploded, her inner walls clenching and unclenching around his fingers as her hips bucked wildly against him.
He marvelled at her responsiveness; the power of her orgasm had almost had him coming in his pants, something he had not done in a bloody long time, thanks ever so! As her tremors quietened, he withdrew his drenched fingers and licked them clean, savouring the taste of her juices before lowering his head to lap gently at the source for a few more moments. Spike rose from his position between her still-faintly quivering thighs to quickly divest himself of his jeans and finally allow his aching cock to spring free. Climbing back onto the sarcophagus, he crawled predatorily up her body to seize her mouth in a searing kiss as he settled between her legs, the head of his cock nestled in the damp curls of her sex. With a slight twist of his hips he brought himself to her entrance and in one quick thrust drove into her depths. Her tight walls closed around his cock and he moaned hungrily as the scent of her maiden’s blood combined with the heady aroma of her come to assail his senses.
Buffy felt a moment of exquisite pain as her lover forced his way through the delicate barrier, ripping it away as he filled her completely. Once inside her, he rested for a moment, allowing them both to savour the feel of each other, and her body adjusted rapidly to his sudden invasion. When he began to thrust slowly and deeply within her she quickly took up the rhythm he was setting, meeting him thrust for thrust and delighting in the sensations he was awakening in her. Her hands roamed hungrily over his body as he devoured her mouth with bone-melting kisses.
She gasped in surprise when he locked his arms around her body and quickly flipped them over, bringing her to rest on top of him. At his urging she sat straddling him, her hands resting on his chest, his cock embedded deeply within her and his hands grasping her hips firmly, guiding her actions until she caught on and kept the pace and rhythm for herself. Her control of the movement allowed his hands to roam across her body, and he traced her flesh avidly, stroking the soft underside of her breasts and cupping them gently. He worshipped her breasts, taking one in each hand and rubbing his thumbs roughly across her hardened nipples, making her cry and whimper with need. Spike propped himself up on his elbows, driving his cock deeper into Buffy and allowing him to briefly capture her nipple in his mouth with each forward rock of her hips.
Her pleasure mounted as her orgasm rapidly approached, and her movements became erratic as she gasped for unneeded breath. Spike dropped his hands once more to her hips to guide her, setting a faster pace and twisting his hips so that he rubbed against her clit with each thrust. Her soft velvet walls fluttered around him, and her eyes glazed over as she became lost in the oblivion of ecstasy. With a ragged whimper she clamped her thighs tightly around his hips, locking him to her as she bucked and moaned above him, her inner walls milking his cock as her orgasm ripped through her.
With a last desperate thrust, Spike gasped out “Buffy” as his own pleasure overwhelmed him and shot his seed into her welcoming depths. She collapsed onto his chest, breathing rapidly despite her body’s lack of need. His own breaths echoed hers as he nuzzled tenderly into the golden waves of her hair, wrapping his arms around her and gathering her close while planting gentle kisses on the top of her head and murmuring soft words attesting to her beauty and sweetness. For the first time in a long while, Spike was truly happy, and this tiny girl lying peacefully in his arms was the reason why. He smiled tenderly against her hair and marvelled at how good it felt to be wanted.
*****
Xander wandered through the halls, avoiding, for as long as possible, having to return to Giles’ room to watch the man lie helplessly in bed. He procrastinated in order to avoid the machines beeping and blinking, to avoid looking on while Willow held desperately to a hand that was supposed to be strong, which was supposed to be protecting them. A hand that instead lay limply in the hand of a terrified fifteen-year-old girl who muttered soft words of encouragement as she tried to remain strong in the face of the fear and grief which threatened to overwhelm her. Without Giles and Buffy, who could shield them from the reality of horrors plucked directly from the mind and given flesh to run loose amid Sunnydale’s terrified citizens?
Xander watched the chaos that resulted as doctors, nurses and patients alike succumbed to their worst nightmares. Not everyone was affected, but those who were ran screaming up the halls or cringed in a corner, arms wrapped protectively around themselves as they rocked and whimpered, lost in a nightmare world filled with terrors of their own creation.
tbc
| | | | |
| In Dreams, What May... - Chapter 4 | | | | abc + + + | | |
Chapter 4
Buffy moved silently at Spike’s side her heightened senses focused intently on the night around them. Her enhanced vampiric eyesight easily pierced the deep blanket of darkness that had settled over the cemetery, and her remarkable new hearing picked up the tiny rustles as insects made their way through the grass. The myriad of scents that floated on the night air assailed her nostrils and she faltered, trying to separate the various smells and discern their source.
Spike stopped, and turning around he took in the look of confused wonder on his pseudo-childe’s face. He smiled indulgently and moved to wrap his arms around her, pulling her back against his chest and breathing against her ear, “You’ll get used to it, luv. It’s a lot to take in right now, I know, but it won’t take long ‘fore you get the hang of it.” He nuzzled against her neck, burying his nose in the soft fragrant hair to find the smooth silky skin below and bestow a gentle kiss. “C’mon, kitten, time to eat.”
He led her through the graveyard and back to the gate they had visited earlier.
*****
Willow was jerked awake, her head flying up from where it had rested against the waffle weave cotton blanket searching for the alarm clock in order to cease its horrific shrilling. What she found instead was a hospital room and the loud shrilling beep was coming from the monitor beside the bed. A thrill of terror coursed through her body at what the horrific noise meant before she her sleep hazed mind focused enough to realise that the man lying in the bed was moving, weakly, but moving none the less. Giles had ripped the monitor leads off and pulled the drip out of his wrist, he was now making an effort to sit up despite his body’s obvious objections.
“Giles! Stop, you shouldn’t…”
“I need to get to Buffy, need to…”
Willow’s breath caught in a painful sob and she caught his hand looking sadly at the watcher before giving voice to the words she had tried so hard not to allow herself to think, “Oh, Giles. Buffy is dead. We found her grave, remember?”
“No, not dead.” Giles’ voice was thick with grief as he tried to find the strength in his trauma weakened body to sit up in the narrow bed. He looked at the hope-filled face of the young girl before him and sighed deeply, “Oh, Willow, I’m sorry… I… when I said not dead, well I’m afraid it is in fact considerably worse.” Drawing a shaky hand across his face he hastily dashed away the tears that had formed at the thought of what his slayer had become. “Buffy has been…” His voice faltered as he sought once more to overcome the grief that welled up within him. Steeling himself visibly he lifted his eyes to the frightened redhead’s. “I am afraid Buffy has been turned. I am so sorry, terribly sorry…”
“What? No! No, she can’t be. You’re wrong, you have to be wrong.” Xander leapt up from the chair, the shrill, monotonous beep having finally forced its way through the reality-escaping shroud of sleep under which the boy had gladly slipped during the course of their vigil. “Buffy can’t… No… you’re wrong. You… You have to be.” With a last accusing stare he turned and fled the room, seeking the cold, hard sterility of the hospital halls as refuge from the emotion filled face of the weary watcher.
“Xander!” Willow called frantically after her friend’s rapidly retreating back, “No, don’t go out there. Xander! Please, come back.” Turning large tear-filled eyes on the man in the bed she spoke quietly, “What is happening, Giles? Why? I mean, I get that people’s nightmares are coming true, but why and how? And how do we make it stop… and will Buffy still be a vampire if we do?” The last terrified thought was voiced so quietly as to be all but indiscernible over the still horrendously beeping machine.
“I honestly don’t know.” Giles sighed deeply, recalling the horrific sight of his Slayer digging herself out of the grave, her normally-pretty face transformed into the cruel, ugly visage of the creatures she was chosen to destroy. “I wish I had the answers,” he whispered, whether to himself or to the frightened girl, he wasn’t sure.
*****
The vampires made their way out of the cemetery and onto the usually quiet suburban street. Smashed cars lined the streets, horns sounded loudly and lights flashed; the glare blinding the newly-made vampire and she whimpered softly.
“Kitten?” Spike turned questioningly as Buffy hung back, shielding her eyes with her arm. Moving swiftly he folded her in his arms, holding her face protectively against his chest. “’s ok, luv. Your eyes ‘ll adjust in time. Look at me, Buffy.”
Buffy looked up, forcing herself to focus on his eyes and keep hers open until they adjusted to the brightness. “Where are we going, Spike?” she asked quietly.
“Figured we’d have a look around, see if we can suss out what’s going on around here and how it’s likely to affect us. Then we need to see ‘bout getting us some dinner.” He stroked her hair as he answered, watching with satisfaction as more of her tension eased under his touch.
They made their way carefully through the abandoned streets, their senses alert for any signs of danger. As they walked Spike showed Buffy how to change effortlessly between faces, teaching her also how to focus her senses in human form and then to enhance them further by shifting into her demon face. He taught her how to separate the different scents on the night air, encouraging her patiently until she was able to discern not only the various odours but which direction each was coming from and how far away. He smiled indulgently when she caught first the scent and then the sight of the homeless man curled in a drunken stupor amongst the deep shadows of the cluttered alley. An unaccustomed sense of pride filled him as he watched her glide gracefully towards her prey.
A slight sound from the depths of the alley drew his attention just as Buffy’s head shot up, her eyes trained intently in the direction of the noise. A group of six rather ragged looking vampires stepped from the shadows and he watched as his childe fell instinctively into an easy fighting stance, her weight perfectly balanced as she waited poised for action.
The lead vampire, a large broad-shouldered bulky type with no fashion sense, looked her up and down before sneering, “Why don’t you run along, before I teach you what happens to insolent fledges who get between me and my dinner.”
“I don’t know,” she quipped lightly, “it seems like today has been a good day for learning lots of new things. So why don’t you go ahead and teach me?” Buffy cocked her head to one side smiling sweetly as she quirked her eyebrow challengingly at the vampire.
The leader approached, swaggering confidently and snarling his fury at the newly-risen vampire. His dick jumped in anticipation, he was going to have fun breaking this insolent little scrap of a thing. “When I’ve finished with you you’ll be begging me to dust you,” he informed her.
“Really? ‘Cause gotta tell you, begging—not exactly my strong point.” With this Buffy flew into action, her first blow snapping the larger vampire’s head to the side. She landed blow after blow, dodging, kicking, spinning, a flurry of movement too fast for the less skilled bully to contend with. Her eyes glowed, their golden depths sparkling with the promise of pain and she smirked dangerously as the other vampire’s fist finally made contact, landing a stinging blow to her jaw. “Now that wasn’t nice,” she informed him before battering his body with a rapid-fire combination of kicks and punches culminating in a powerful kick that left him on his knees cradling his crotch as he groaned in agony.
Smashing a nearby crate Buffy quickly gathered a serviceable shard of the shattered timber. “And here I was thinking I was going to learn something new and exciting,” she complained, shrugging dramatically. “Oh well, guess you can’t have everything. Or in your case, anything,” she added as she plunged the make-do stake into the vampire’s heart.
The rest of the pack, who had up to this point been mesmerised by the sight of their leader being beaten by the pretty, diminutive blonde, broke from their trance, moving forward as one to avenge their fallen leader.
Spike remained motionless at the alley’s entrance held entranced by Buffy’s lethal grace as he watched her spin and weave; powerful kicks executed with the poise of a ballerina, small fists flying with deadly skill as she systematically disposed of the remaining vampires. She was exquisite. His eyes drank her in, following her dance with avid intensity, his body aching with lust. It was only when he pulled his eyes momentarily from his childe’s captivating display and noticed one small, scruffy-looking vamp armed with another piece of the broken crate sneaking around behind the slayer while her attention was fixed on the two opponents in front of her that he made a move.
“Now, now. That’s not playing fair,” he chastised as he lifted the smaller vampire off the ground by his head. A sharp twist of his hands and he was brushing the dust off his clothes in time to watch as Buffy staked her last opponent.
She smiled as she moved towards him, opening her mouth to say something. Grasping her arms Spike pulled her roughly to him, covering her mouth hungrily with his, cutting off her words. When she returned the kiss with equal fervour he pushed her backwards, slamming her back hard against the rough brick of the alley wall, his body pinning her as he further deepened the kiss. Her legs lifted to wrap around his waist and he captured her hands, one hand holding them firmly above her head while his free hand travelled eagerly over her body, staking his claim. He ground into her, mindless of the unforgiving wall against which she was imprisoned.
Her body shuddered with release and as she moaned her pleasure against his neck it was all he could do not to follow her example. He dropped her hands and stepped back allowing her feet to fall to the ground. With his hands on her shoulders he pressed down, Buffy was quick to realise what he was asking of her and dropping to her knees she smiled brazenly up at him as she reached for his fly, more than eager to comply with his request.
*****
Xander ran blindly through the now-deserted halls, desperately fleeing the watcher’s emotion-charged gaze and the horrific finality of the man’s words. As he’d sat with Willow at the watcher’s bedside he had refused to dwell on the words they had seen engraved on the tombstone. He had, in fact, given them no credence after the initial shock had worn off. He knew that that they were a lie. Buffy dead? That concept seemed so implausible to him that all evidence to the contrary his brain refused to acknowledge it.
Buffy turned? That was a regular star of his most horrifying nightmares; an inevitability that his mind had no difficulty accepting as very real. He told himself that if he didn’t listen it wasn’t true. If he kept running, if he didn’t hear the words, refused to acknowledge their truth then this would turn out to be simply another in his long list of terrifying dreams in which yet another of his friends was turned into an unspeakable abomination, a creature with no soul and no conscience, a filthy, twisted mockery of all that they had been in life.
He rounded a corner to come face to face with a young boy.
The boy’s eyes widened in fear. “Not that way,” he pleaded, “he’s down there. He’ll get you.”
“He? Who?” Xander stammered in response, craning his neck to see as far down the seemingly empty corridor as possible. “There’s no one there, kid,” he assured the boy.
“He’s there. He’s always there,” the boy spoke with quiet resignation. “You can’t hide from him.”
Xander opened his mouth to assure the boy once more that there was no one there when an ugly club-wielding monstrosity lumbered into view.
“See?” The boy’s statement contained no accusation, just simple acceptance.
“Come on,” Xander urged, grabbing the boy by the arm and dragging him with him as he turned and ran back in the direction from which he had just come.
tbc
| | | | |
| In Dreams, What May... - Chapter 5 | | | | abc + + + | | |
Chapter 5
A soft snore from the shadows reminded them of their quest. When Buffy turned to move towards the sound Spike seized her arms, pulling her back for a last searing kiss before releasing her to her hunt. “We’ll continue this later, kitten,” he promised. His eyes devoured her as she moved further into the gloom towards her prey and after fishing around for a moment in his pockets he lit a smoke and settled himself half-seated on an unbroken crate to watch his childe in action.
Buffy cocked her head, watching intently as the man slept on, oblivious to her presence. The stench of alcohol, garbage and urine saturated the air but above it all was the alluring scent of blood; warm, living, pumping blood that beckoned her. She circled around him indecisively. The gnawing hunger within screamed at her to kill, to feast; and yet she hesitated.
The man’s eyes opened suddenly, widening with fright as he took in the terrifying countenance of the girl before him. Scrambling to his feet he backed against the wall. “Please. Please don’t kill me,” he pleaded. Tears brimmed in his red rimmed eyes as he begged for his life, uncertain if this monster was real or simply another visitation by one of the alcohol-induced apparitions that plagued him regularly.
Buffy relaxed, allowing her face to melt back to its human features. “It’s ok,” she soothed, backing away a few steps, “I won’t hurt you.”
The vagrant nodded, and keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the vampire he slid backwards along the wall several paces before turning and fleeing.
“Wanna explain to me what just happened there, pet?” Spike asked as he quietly stepped up behind his childe.
Buffy turned to face him, her lip trembling as she looked up at his face. “I... I don’t know. I’m sorry, Spike. I just couldn’t.” She took a deep breath, calming herself and allowing her time to gather her thoughts before continuing, “I know that I’m a vampire. I know it. And I feel it. And a part of me was so hungry that all I wanted was to kill that man and feed. But another part of me, the part that’s still the Slayer, couldn’t. I don’t know if I can make you understand, Spike. I’m the Slayer. It doesn’t matter that I am a vampire too. It is my job to protect people, not to kill them.”
What she’d told him was the truth, she understood that now. Even if it meant her own starvation she could not kill a human. She knew he would be disappointed, maybe even angry and the thought of losing him over this terrified her but she couldn’t change who she was. And if that meant that she was to live out the rest of her existence—or whatever existence a vampire who refused to feed was granted—alone, then so be it.
“I know you’re angry and…”
“Do you?” Spike interrupted.
“I…?” Buffy began, confusion creasing her brow as she looked at him. His usually expressive face was blank, giving her no indication as to where she stood.
Spike reached out, cupping her face gently. “I’m not angry. ‘m not saying it makes a hell of a lot of sense to me. But if you say you can’t, then you can’t. Not a lot of point in me bein’ angry about it is there?” He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “An’ I’m guessing that what you’re feeling might explain why I’ve never heard of a turned Slayer before. The fact is, love, that you need to feed. And so do I for that matter. ‘m figuring your little bout of conscience extends to me too?” he asked, a gentle smile curving the corners of his lips as he tilted his head in inquiry.
She smiled weakly, her lip quivering once more and her eyes filled with unshed tears; she knew what she was asking of him and was worried that he would feel she wasn’t worth it. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Shh,” he soothed, “it’s ok. ‘s nothing we can’t work out, pet. Now c’mere.” He drew her close, her body melted willingly against him as she eagerly accepted the comfort of her lover’s embrace.
“Come on, kitten, I’ve got an idea,” Spike told her, tilting her face up and kissing her lightly on the nose.
*****
Xander ran as fast as he could, dragging the shorter, slower boy behind him. They flew through the corridors, unmindful of where they were going and after countless twists and turns Xander stopped for breath. Peering urgently in the direction from which they’d come and seeing no sign of pursuit he relaxed a little and looked around, trying to gauge their whereabouts. After a quick scout of the adjoining rooms he soon realised that he was completely and hopelessly lost, with no idea of how to get back to the watcher and Willow.
Giles would know what to do. Or Willow, she always came up with good plans. For the thousandth time in the last day he found himself wishing that Buffy was there.
He was pulled from his thoughts by the distant sound of a door banging closed and he looked around in a panic. “Quick we can hide in here,” he urged, tilting his head towards the seemingly empty room.
“We can’t hide,” his companion informed him. “He always finds me. It doesn’t matter where I hide.”
“Shh,” Xander cautioned, his voice rising in a petrified squeak, “he’d be a lot less likely to find us if you didn’t keep making with the talking.”
*****
Spike shouldered the heavily-loaded canvas bag and snagged the large red cooler he spotted as he made his way out the door. This should do for a few days at least, he mused, shaking his head in complete bafflement that he was stealing frozen blood when there were perfectly good warm bodies just walking around for the taking. Bloody chit better appreciate it, he grumbled quietly to himself as he made his way back down the sterile corridor towards the exit and his Slayer. As he approached the door to the hospital’s main foyer a man approached from the opposite direction, clearly agitated as he hurried towards the heavily laden vampire.
“Get out of my way,” the man groused, dropping his shoulder and attempting to shove Spike aside.
Lowering his burden slowly to the ground and continuing to block the path Spike looked up at the much larger man. “What was that, mate?” he asked quietly, blue eyes blazing.
The man stared, disbelief written clearly on his features and speaking slowly and clearly he repeated, “I said, get out of my way, runt.”
“See now, that was what I thought you said.” Spike’s hand snaked out, catching the larger man by the throat and squeezing slowly. “Can’t say as I like your type much, mate. Known a lot like you in my life, not met a one I liked. Bullies who think they’re better ‘n others. Cowards is what you are, the lot of you. And the way I figure it, the world won’t be missing you any time soon.”
As Spike’s hand closed tighter the man’s eyes widened in horror, and he scrambled furiously at the smaller man’s arm in a vain attempt to free himself. The scent of fear heavy on the air and his prisoner’s futile efforts at escape momentarily entertained the vampire, his lip curled in a derisive sneer as he looked the larger man in the eye. “Well, I must say, it’s been fun, but I gotta go now. Don’t wanna keep my girl waiting.” With that he closed his fist, crushing the man’s windpipe and dropped him to lie gasping on the ground.
When he reached the outside a shape separated itself from the shadows and moved rapidly towards him. “Spike. You were gone forever; I was getting worried,” Buffy censured, her lip sneaking out into a pout.
“Well you should’ve come in with me, shouldn’t you?” he countered, although given recent events he was glad that Buffy had chosen to remain outside. Somehow he didn’t think killing a man just for being an arse would fit very comfortably into her idea of how things should be.
“Yeah, I know,” she admitted, ducking beneath his arm and snuggling close to him, “hospitals just really give me the wiggins.”
“Well, come on love, let’s go home.” He set off in the direction of what he’d come to think of as their crypt. “I’ve got dinner here. And before you ask, no, I didn’t kill anyone for it,” he added telling himself that technically he was speaking the truth.
*****
Entering the room cautiously Xander cast around looking for likely hiding spots. He pulled back the white curtain that hung suspended from the ceiling and stopped short as he looked down onto the face of the boy lying almost peacefully in the bed.
“What? How?” He looked back and forth between the boy on the bed and the one standing next to him.
An echo sounded from the corridor signalling the approach of their unattractive friend and the boy cringed away from the sound.
“It’s you,” Xander declared. “You’re the one doing this. You’re dreaming and making all this happen. Making that creature out there come after us. Turning one of my best friends into a vampire. Almost killing my... well I don’t know what he is exactly but you almost got him killed. You have to stop.”
“I… I can’t,” the boy replied nervously, one eye on his suddenly irate companion and the other on the door as he awaited the arrival of their lumbering pursuer. “He’ll kill me.”
“But you have to,” Xander whined, terror gripping him. His stomach felt like it was turning to water and his heart was pounding so hard he was sure that it would be clearly heard from the hallway through the flimsy door that was currently their only means of protection. The sounds grew closer and he turned once more to the young boy next to him. “You need to wake up. Don’t you understand, that thing, whatever it is, will kill us if you don’t?” He grasped the boy by the shoulders, shaking him roughly. “Please, man, you have to wake up.”
The boy whimpered, and Xander let go. “Oh, god. I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to do that. But please, you need to wake up.”
The door swung open and their attacker shambled into the room. Grabbing the boy Xander dragged him under the bed and into the back corner of the room as far from the hulking creature as possible. Grasping the boy to him protectively and turning them so that the boy was somewhat sheltered by his body on one side and the wall on the other Xander closed his eyes, unwilling to watch the monster deliver its killing blow. “You’ve gotta wake up. You’ve gotta wake up.” He mumbled over and over as he rocked himself and his companion.
*****
They stopped in at the Seven Eleven on the way back to their crypt; Spike quickly pulled a few packets of blood from the bag and popped them in the microwave. When the boy behind the counter came over to tell them that the microwave was for customer use only Buffy slipped into her demon face, golden eyes flashing as she bared her fangs and the terrified boy ran screaming from the store leaving them to enjoy their dinner in peace.
With their hunger satisfied Spike took the time to load the remaining packets into the cooler, grabbing bags of ice from the freezer to pack the remaining space. He snatched up a few cartons of smokes from behind the counter and a fistful of the tartan travel rugs that were on display by the door and stuffed them into the now-empty bag before leading Buffy back into the night.
*****
“Willow you need to help me.” Giles found himself reluctant to further involve the young girl, but could see no alternative. “I need to get back to the library. If I could consult my books I may be able to establish what is causing this phenomenon.”
“But you’re hurt. And that vampire is still out there. And Buffy…” Willow’s voice trailed off, she couldn’t bring herself to complete the thought that her best friend was now a vampire and might very well be hunting for a nice little Scooby snack about now. Isn’t that what Giles had taught them? That newly turned vampires usually go after their friends and family. A hand came to rest gently on her arm and she turned to look into the haunted, blue eyes of Buffy’s watcher.
“I know, Willow.” His voice was gentle and understanding as he continued, holding her gaze as he spoke, “it won’t be easy. And will most likely be dangerous, but we cannot let the world continue like this. I need for you to be brave. Our only chance to save the world, and with it hopefully Buffy, is to get to those books.”
Willow nodded silently, biting her bottom lip gently between her teeth as she steeled herself to do the watcher’s bidding.
*****
Buffy lay sated, and curled happily into her lover’s side, her head pillowed comfortably on his chest as his hand stroked a gentle, soothing rhythm down her back. The soft rugs beneath them had made their ‘bed’ much more comfortable and as the unseen dawn approached its pull towards sleep affected even those vampires holed up within the bounds of the permanently night-shrouded cemetery. Buffy yawned, snuggling her face closer into Spike’s chest her hand gently caressing his stomach as her eyes drifted closed in contentment.
“Talk to me,” she requested sleepily.
“’Bout what, pet?”
“I don’t know, anything. Where you come from, or why you’re here?” she suggested, not really caring what he talked about, just wanting to listen to the warm soothing tones of his voice.
He started talking, hesitantly at first and then at her interested encouragements more animatedly. He told her about his travels, the things he had seen, the Eiffel Tower, Venice, Rome, New York. Moonlit strolls along the Champs-Élysées with his sire, Darla and Angelus, their nights culminating in a fine feast on exquisite French cuisine; of course he neglected to mention what said cuisine had consisted of. He told her about Drusilla, and at her unconscious whimper he gathered her closer.
“Nothin’ for you to be worrying about, kitten,” he assured her. “Dru an’ I parted ways a while back.”
Buffy turned at the bitterness clearly evident in his voice, propping herself up on one elbow to look at him. “What happened?” She stroked his cheek gently, leaning forward to place a soft kiss against his suddenly furrowed brow. She had no urge to cause him pain, but a part of her needed to know the answer to her question—if for no other reason than if she understood the cause she would be better equipped to soothe his obvious hurt.
“Don’t rightly know,” he began quietly, a deep sigh escaping him as he allowed his thoughts to drift to the final argument he’d had with his sire. “Over a hundred years we’d been together. I always tried to take good care of her. She wasn’t always all there, you know. Angelus had done a right number on her before he turned her, thought it’d be fun to break her mind first, the bastard. But most of the time she was fine. This one night she just wakes up and tells me I wasn’t hers anymore. That I wasn’t her dark knight an’ that I needed to leave.”
He sat up, reaching down to snag a cigarette out of his duster pocket and lighting it before continuing, “I tried to reason with her. But she wouldn’t have it. Went bloody crazy on me, scratching and hissing, carryin’on like a bleedin’ banshee. Told me I had to leave or I would kill us both. There was never any reasoning with her when she was like that, so I did what she wanted and I left. Figured I’d go back in a couple of days an’ sort everything out. Only she still wouldn’t listen, told me I had to leave and not to come back. Said that I wasn’t a bad dog anymore or some such rot. Next thing I knew I was on my own. Ungrateful bitch’d packed up the minions and left me on my lonesome down in South America. I made my way up here to kill me my next Slayer and prove her wrong; only I get here and the world’s gone crazy and instead of the Slayer I came here to kill I find you.” He flicked away the spent cigarette and lay back down, pulling his childe into his arms.
Buffy thought about the things he’d said. The thought of Drusilla leaving him twisted in her gut like a knife. She couldn’t imagine not having him here with her and she realised how painful it must be for him without his sire. She realised then that if Drusilla could do that, could throw her real childe out like that after a hundred years of devotion, that Spike might quickly tire of her. After all he wasn’t really her sire and had no responsibility or reason to take care of her. Especially considering how difficult she was being and what she was asking of him.
“Spike? You won’t leave me, will you?” she asked in a small, grief-stricken voice. Her eyes brimmed and her lip trembled as a surge of misery engulfed her at the thought of losing him.
He gathered her closer, kissing her tenderly before responding and as he spoke the words he realised just how much he meant them, “Never, love. Would never leave you, kitten. I’ve been searching for you all my life, Buffy, not gonna lose you now.” He still missed Dru, probably always would, but this tiny girl in his arms had in such a short period of time become his world and he knew there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her.
tbc
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| In Dreams, What May... - Chapter 6 | | | | abc + + + | | |
He recited his mantra continually like a lifeline as he held the child to him. Despite his fear he shielded the younger boy, determined to protect him for as long as possible from the horrifying death that encroached steadily upon them. With his eyes squeezed firmly shut he awaited the impending death blow, starting in horror as the boy disappeared leaving him frantically clutching at nothingness. Forcing his eyes open he turned around to face his death alone only to be confronted with an empty room. The ugly club-wielding monster was gone; the door that the creature had smashed its way through had repaired itself, the quiet hustle and bustle of normal hospital noises made their way into the room.
Xander carefully crawled out from his mediocre hiding place, eyes and ears alert for any continued threat.
“You were part of my dream.”
Spinning around Xander blinked, taking in the sight of the now-awake boy in the bed. “Yeah, I was,” he agreed. “But you’ve stopped dreaming now, right?” The boy’s slow nod put paid to the last of his fears. “That’s good. So what… uh… you know… how’d you wake up?”
“I don’t know… I think maybe it was you telling me that I had to wake up. It kinda got to be annoying after a while and I figured the best way to make you stop was to just wake up.”
*****
Spike woke slowly; Buffy’s body draped over him, the warmth of her body and the slow, steady rhythm of her heart gently lulling him back towards sleep. He nuzzled into her hair, breathing in her scent, and with a contented sigh allowed his eyes to drift closed once more.
His eyes flew open. Heartbeat? He breathed in the warm, living scent of her; scrambling out from under her as his brain registered what his senses were screaming at him, ‘human, Slayer’.
With a soft mewl of protest Buffy clung to him, her eyes opening sleepily. “Spike? What’s wrong?” she asked quietly as he continued to pull away from her.
The slight tremble of her voice, the barest hint of salt in the air and the hurt reflected in her eyes quickly had him cursing himself for a fool. Promised you’d never leave her, you git, never hurt her. Heartbeat makes sod all difference to how you feel about the girl, so stop acting like a bloody ponce. Gathering Buffy’s warm, pliant body close to him Spike ran soothing hands down her back, whispering reassurances against her hair, “’m sorry, love. Never meant to hurt you. ‘s alright, kitten, I‘m here, not going anywhere, Buffy. Not going anywhere.”
He gently tilted her chin up until he could meet her eyes, stroking her cheek tenderly with his thumb as he searched her face. “I’m sorry, Buffy. I heard your heart beating an’ I overreacted. Can you forgive me, love?”
“I... I’m human again?” Buffy asked in amazement, momentarily forgetting the hurt his rejection had elicited. He nodded silently and her heart pounded in her chest with the force of his revelation. Closing her eyes she focused her senses the way he had taught her but the myriad of scents and sounds that had so recently dizzied her with their intensity were dulled and muted, a poor echo of the crystalline clarity she had grown accustomed to. The comforting awareness of ‘sire’ that Spike’s presence automatically brought was gone, leaving her empty, aching and bereft in its absence.
Part of her rejoiced at her newly-regained human status, and the knowledge that the nightmares that had engulfed Sunnydale must have ended. A large part of her, however, mourned the loss of her vampiric nature and all that had come with it.
“Buffy?” Spike’s quiet concern cut through her musing and she focused on the worried blue eyes before her.
“You still want me?” She stated more than asked, the devotion in his eyes clearly evident.
“Always, love.” His lips brushed gently against hers as he continued, “Love you, Buffy. Not gonna lose you. Can’t.” At her soft moan he deepened the kiss, his tongue snaking out to trace her lower lip, requesting and gaining entrance.
When her need to breathe broke them apart he rested his forehead gently against hers, smoothing the silky golden locks as he sought the words to best phrase the tumultuous thoughts whirling in his mind.
“Know it won’t be easy, kitten. An’ before you say it I know we can’t be together if I’m feeding on people. I’m not saying I’ll always make the right decisions, love, ‘s not easy curbing over a hundred years of instinct. But I will try, I promise you that. An’ knowing what I stand to lose if I stuff up,” he kissed the tip of her nose, “is damned good incentive not to stuff up.”
Buffy reached up and stroked his face, her fingers gently cupping his cheek as her thumb ran almost worshipfully along the knife-edge line of his cheekbone. Sliding her hand up she gently brushed the errant curls back from his forehead smiling as they sprang back again, resisting her attempts at taming them. “I love you too, Spike.” She kissed him gently, her eyes never leaving his as she spoke again, “I trust you. And I believe in you, in us. We can do this, together.”
*****
“I have to go get…” Xander paused, not sure how to explain to Billy why he needed to go and get his friends. “Look I’ll be back soon, I promise.” The boy’s tentative half smile and perfunctory nod relayed his scepticism and Xander tried again. “Listen, I will be back, ok? I just have some friends in here I need to check up on, make sure they are ok. And if they are they might even come back with me to visit you. But even if they don’t I promise you I will be back, soon.” Billy’s now-genuine smile and the belief in his eyes freed Xander to go and seek out Willow and Giles and he made his way quickly out the door with only a small twinge of guilt at leaving the smaller boy alone after his ordeal.
He had only gone a short distance when he saw the familiar faces coming towards him. “Willow!” He ran towards her engulfing her in a hug and spinning her around to the disapproval of the nurses at the nearby nurse’s station. “You’re ok, I was worried,” he announced after placing the breathless red-head back on her feet. “Giles!” he turned to the watcher who immediately held his hand up in the universal signal to stop.
“Xander. We were rather concerned as to your whereabouts, I am glad to see you are unharmed in any way.” Casting his eyes around the hospital corridor with its usual bustle of activity he continued, “It seems the spell has been broken. The world appears to be back to normal with no lasting ill-affects. And people appear to either have no memory of the recent events, or, in true Sunnydale fashion, they are simply denying them and proceeding as if nothing untoward has occurred.”
“That’s one of the reasons I was looking for you, and to make sure you were ok of course,” he added at the watcher’s arched eyebrow. “I need you to come with me and meet someone.
On the walk to Billy’s room he gave Giles and Willow a quick run down of his and dream-Billy’s adventures and proudly explained how he had ended the spell by nagging Billy into waking up.
“Do we know what caused his condition in the first place?” Giles queried.
“No. I mean, I didn’t ask, I just wanted to find you guys.”
They made their way back to Billy’s room and Xander quickly introduced them.
Pulling up a chair and speaking quietly with the boy Giles gently probed him for information but found the boy hesitant to speak about the ordeal that had ended with him in hospital in a coma. The most he had been able to deduce was that Billy had been on his way home from a kiddie league game when he’d been attacked.
The door swung open and a woman entered her face etched with concern but lighting considerably when she noted boy sitting awake and alert in his bed.
“Mom!” Billy cried, attempting to detangle himself from the bedcovers and scramble out of bed. Before he could complete his task he was engulfed in his softly sobbing mother’s arms.
After a few moments she pulled back, settling on the bed and stroking her son’s face. “Billy, sweetheart, I’m so sorry to have to tell you this. Your coach. He’s…” She took a deep breath steeling herself for her son’s reaction but knowing it was better he hear the news from her than from an outside source. “He’s dead. I’m so sorry. They found him on the lower floor of the hospital near a flight of stairs. His neck was broken and they think he probably tripped and fell down the stairs.”
*****
“So Buffy will be ok now, right?”
“Hmm?” Giles looked up, Xander’s question breaking him from his thoughts. The small smile that had played momentarily across Billy’s face when his mother had told him of his coach’s demise seemed to answer the question of how Billy had ended up in the condition he was in. Apparently his team had lost their game and it was on his way home afterwards that the boy had been attacked. Having seemingly found the answer to the riddle, however, did nothing to please the watcher, it merely sickened him.
“I said, Buffy will be Buffy now, right? No more with the fangy?”
“I presume so, yes. Although the sooner we find her the happier I will be, there is, after all still the matter of a new, and highly dangerous vampire in town.”
“Maybe he was just another nightmare?” Willow offered hopefully.
“The possibility had occurred to me, however, everything that was affected by the nightmares has gone back to normal and as I still have this,” he gestured towards the healing wound on his neck, “I can only deduce that the vampire was, in fact, real.”
*****
“Buffy,” a strangled moan escaped the vampire as her warmth surrounded him, her strong internal muscles caressed his cock and he stilled his movements to compose himself, amazed at the effect being buried in her heat was having on him. “Love you,” he murmured claiming her lips once again before slowly beginning to move within her.
Time stopped, the world spinning to a halt until there was nothing but the gentle slide of flesh against flesh, warm caresses, tender kisses and softly whispered words of love and devotion.
Buffy’s breathing quickened, her soft moans becoming urgent whimpers and he sped the movement of his hips as he trailed kisses down her throat to her pulse-point and suckled gently.
As her internal walls began to flutter around him he allowed his features to change and gently slid his fangs into the soft, smooth skin. He drew gently on her blood, two long pulls of the powerful elixir and as her muscles clamped almost painfully around him he followed her into bliss his breath cool against her skin as he murmured his dedication.
~
Buffy lay contentedly in her lover’s arms, her head resting against his chest, her fingers tracing gentle patterns on the smooth alabaster skin.
“I’m gonna have to go,” she informed him quietly, her voice heavy with regret. “My mom’ll be worried about me. And Giles and my friends will be too.”
“Giles? That wouldn’t be your watcher by any chance would it, love?”
‘Yeah, kinda obvious, huh?” she asked, smiling against his skin before pressing a soft lingering kiss to one lightly pebbled nipple.
Spike toyed with saying nothing but knew that if he wanted to try and make a go of his unnatural relationship with the slayer he had to be upfront with her and hope for the best. Steadying himself for her reaction he closed his eyes, breathing in the delectable scent of her and the heady aroma of their lovemaking for what he sincerely hoped would not be the last time. “Buffy, love.” He waited until she looked up at him, seeking and holding her eyes he continued, “I kinda ran across him in the cemetery, just before you rose.”
Buffy’s eyes widened in shock. “Oh, god, Spike. Please tell me you didn’t kill him.”
“Don’t think so, love. Bit him, but didn’t take much more than a few sips before I was distracted. When I went back he was gone, so I’m pretty sure he’s ok,” he finished quietly.
Buffy jumped out of his arms and began rapidly pulling her clothes on. With a regret-filled sigh Spike lay back on their ‘bed’ closing his eyes against the pain. His eyes flew open as a pair of jeans hit him in the face.
“Come on,” Buffy urged, “get dressed. I need you to help me find him. And then we have to find a way to break all this to my mom.”
“All what, kitten?” Spike questioned as he drew the jeans up his legs.
“This. Me. You know, slayers and vampires and… us.”
“Your mum doesn’t know you’re the Slayer?” he asked incredulously, pulling his t-shirt over his head and tucking it into his jeans.
Buffy shook her head as she finished dressing. “Giles said it would be better if she didn’t know.”
“Yeah, well that sounds like a bleedin’ watcher for you. For that alone the git deserves to be eaten. Look, love, how’s your mum supposed to keep safe if she doesn’t know about the dangers? What’s to stop her inviting the likes of me into her house if she doesn’t know any better?”
“I know.” Buffy conceded his point. “But, hey, seeing as you're so concerned you get to help make with the splainy. And you can help me think of reasons why I should be allowed to date an older man, err… vampire. But first we need to find Giles.”
*****
Giles eyed the blonde couple warily; his Slayer was walking towards them hand in hand with the vampire who had nearly ended his life. All other aspects of the ‘nightmare world’ appeared to have returned to rights, however, the watcher could see no logical reason for the company his Slayer was keeping other than the heartbreaking possibility that she was, in fact, still a vampire.
He mumbled quietly for the children to drop back and to be careful as he readied a stake, keeping it hidden from the sight of the pair rapidly approaching across the lawn.
As they neared Buffy’s face lit into a beaming smile. “Giles,” she cried, releasing the vampire’s hand and launching herself at her watcher. Before Giles could raise the stake for the killing blow he found himself crushed in his Slayer’s embrace. “You’re ok!” Buffy murmured against his chest, squeezing him tighter as if to assure herself of his existence.
“No thanks to your companion, yes I am.” Giles watched over his slayer’s shoulder as the vampire halted, casually reached into his duster pocket and drew out a cigarette which he lit with a flourish, taking a long draw on the cigarette before exhaling slowly.
“Spike won’t hurt you again, Giles. He won’t hurt anyone,” she added drawing back from her watcher and capturing her friends’ eyes. “He promised.”
“And why, pray tell, would he do that. And more importantly why would you expect any of us to believe him?”
With pleading eyes Buffy explained how Spike had taken care of her. How he had willingly forgone feeding so as not to upset her. She told them about the bagged blood and the old drunk in the alley. She told him that Spike was going to help her with patrolling and even with training. Giles’ eyes had lit momentarily at the thought of someone else being his super-powered charge’s punching bag for a change. Without going into detail she explained to her watcher and her friends how much they cared about each other. She told them about Spike’s promises to her; their promises to each other.
All the while Spike stood apart, feigning indifference but Buffy could see how worried he was and she longed to go to him, to wrap her arms around his waist and assure him that nothing would ever keep them apart. Instead she redoubled her efforts, countering every argument, stressing and restressing each relevant point until finally she succeeded in wringing reluctant approval from Giles and Xander. Willow had been easily won over, the sight of her friend’s eyes glittering with love and happiness everytime she glanced at the blonde vampire had been all the red head had needed to make up her mind.
Buffy took Spike’s hand, drawing him closer and introducing him to each of her friends. Willow’s shy but enthusiastic smile buoyed both his confidence and his mood. With his happily smiling slayer by his side even the boy’s perfunctory nod did little to dispel it.
Shaking hands firmly with the watcher he nodded towards the other man’s still-healing neck. “Sorry ‘bout that, mate.”
Giles’ eyes hardened, his voice dropping to a dangerous level, “If you ever do anything to hurt her…”
“If I hurt her you won’t have to worry about it. I’ll dust myself before you’d ever have a chance.”
The two men locked eyes, each studying the other for some time before both looked away, seemingly satisfied with what they had found.
Linking her arm with Spike’s Buffy announced the need to go home and let her mom know not only that she was ok but about her slayer status. When Giles opened his mouth to argue she cut him off, “No, Giles. She needs to know. Not only ‘cause it will make my life a whole world of easier but for her safety too.”
Realising that this was yet another argument that he wasn’t going to win Giles sighed resignedly. “Alright, Buffy. If your mother has any questions you can, of course, give her my number, just please ask her to ring in the morning. For now I am going home, having a stiff drink and going to sleep. With any luck when I wake up this will all be one great big nightmare.
tbc | | | | |
| In Dreams, What May... - Epilogue | | | | abc + + + | | |
“Get away from her!” Angel stepped menacingly from the shadows every muscle held taut with barely restrained rage as he watched his estranged grandchilde run a possessive hand down the Slayer’s arm.
“Angel. No.” Buffy stepped toward the glowering vampire before continuing, “Spike isn’t hurting me. It’s ok.”
“Ok? Do you have any idea who, what, he is?” Angel asked incredulously. Buffy was young, and impulsive, he knew that and was determined to save her from her own foolishness.
“Yes, Angel. I do.” Buffy spoke slowly, her eyes narrowing as she took in the continued aggression in Angel’s stance. “He’s a Master vampire who has killed two Slayers. He’s also my boyfriend.” She paused, capturing Angel’s eyes with hers and holding them as she amended clearly, “My lover.” Her chin tilted determinedly and as the dark-haired vampire opened his mouth to protest her choice she added, “And you will leave him alone. It’s my decision, Angel. Not yours.”
With a furious growl Angel shoved past the Slayer and launched himself at his grandchilde, golden eyes flashing with murderous intent as he aimed a series of blows at the younger vampire. Spike dodged; bouncing lightly on his toes he easily avoided the worst of the assault whilst managing to land a few punches of his own. The blonde’s strikes were designed more to infuriate than to harm as he danced lightly around his slower elder. Spike goaded Angel with light, stinging taps to the side of the face, spinning kicks aimed for Angel’s butt that bruised the elder vampire’s ego far more than his body; while Spike’s own agile grace allowed him to dance circles around his increasingly incensed Grandsire.
Eventually realising that he couldn’t beat Spike if he allowed things to continue in this manner, Angel forcibly calmed his rapidly rising ire and waited for his opportunity. After a quick succession of stinging blows from his opponent he feinted to the right leaving Spike an opening that he knew his grandchilde would be unable to resist and as Spike launched his attack he turned quickly grabbing the younger vampire’s arm and twisting it around behind Spike’s back and drove him froward, slamming the blonde face-first into a large tree. “I told you to get away from her, boy,” he growled. “Seems I need to remind you what happens to you when you don’t do as you’re told.” He tightened his grip on the furiously thrashing and cursing blonde’s arm, spinning him around and pinning him hard against the tree. Grabbing a handful of platinum locks he reefed Spike’s head to one side, his fangs descending towards the younger vampire’s throat.
“Get your hands off my boyfriend!” Buffy drove the stake into the vampire’s back, and watched with disinterest as his dust drifted into the night. She stepped through the rapidly dispersing cloud and wrapped her arms around Spike’s waist, burrowing her head briefly into his chest, before lifting her face to brush a soft, lingering kiss to his cool lips. “You ok?” she breathed. His brief nod and gentle smile quickly allayed her fears and she turned around to continue the disrupted conversation with her watcher, only to be confronted by three stunned faces, jaws hanging widely and eyes bugging in disbelief.
“What? Oh, come on. He so deserved that!” She glanced quickly from one set of disbelieving eyes to the next. “Xander, you agree with me, don’t you?”
A deep rumbling laugh had her leaning deeper into her lover’s embrace as Spike’s arms tightened around her. He planted a soft kiss to the top of her head, gently nuzzling into her warm, fragrant hair.
“Remind me never to piss you off, love.”
Buffy tilted her head back to look at him, rolling her eyes even as she smiled affectionately at the smirking vampire. After giving him a gentle squeeze she snuggled closer before turning her attention back to her Watcher once more. “So. Giles, just how did you manage to stop all the weirdness?”
Giles flushed, his eyes lowered as he stumbled over his response; not wanting to admit that the day had been saved not by his expertise as a Watcher, not by careful research or by an intricate and deftly cast enchantment, but, rather, by the incessant babblings of a terrified boy. “Yes. Well, Buffy, that was, um… Yes, it’s all rather interesting. You see…..”
the end
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