*****Epilogue*****
Buffy awoke with a smile. She didn’t dream often. She never had, unless it was a slayer vision. Sometimes she dreamed about Angelus’s dusting weeks earlier. Sometimes she had nightmares – er, daymares - about the Mansion. Rarely did her life prior to becoming a slayer appear in her sleep as it had today.
She’d been dreaming about being a little girl. That was so long ago…but then time didn’t mean quite the same thing to her anymore. In her dream she’d felt safe and loved. She turned her head to look at the man lying on his stomach beside her. The dream was gone, but she still felt safe and loved. Buffy took a moment to sense for the sun. It was almost five in the afternoon. They’d slept late today. She smiled. Considering what they’d been doing earlier, it was a wonder she wasn’t still out cold.
Strange that she could tell the time of day to the half-hour – more precise near sunrise – but she couldn’t seem to remember the date. She didn’t live on a schedule that required an appointment book anymore; it was easy to forget. Every twenty-four hours a vampire’s life basically started over. Sleep, eat, do something with your time. It would have been easy to just stay in bed all day. What didn’t get done today could be done tomorrow. Or the next day…or the next century.
She rolled over, stretching her arms and legs. The best way Buffy could find to gauge the passage of days was by the changes she’d witnessed. But where to begin, since there had been so many. Taking in their room, Buffy couldn’t help but marvel at the alterations to it in the weeks since the final battle. The walls were no longer white, but a honey color that Spike complained was too girly. But it was the only one they’d been able to agree on, since Buffy refused to paint the entire room black. Or blood red. She’d let him choose the pictures on the walls and the linens though, so she figured it balanced out.
Spike really was good at interior design. He said it came from having once eaten a decorator. He’d gotten them a gorgeous embroidered burgundy bed spread and satin sheets to match. While he joked about hanging up his Sex Pistols posters, Spike actually selected two impressionist pieces from her mom’s gallery. One was a young woman looking out a window and the other was a weird wavy countryside; they weren’t Buffy’s usual taste but they matched the room well. She knew Spike had an ulterior motive for buying from Joyce. Buffy’d cried when she realized how much of a commission Spike had managed to give her mom.
A Persian rug for the floor and they were at home. The downstairs rooms were decked out too, but Morrie had done most of that. Buffy and Alexa had gone shopping with him occasionally though. All in all, the house was perfect for the beings living there.
Or course, there had been someone missing since her slaying of Angelus. Chris. The day after his death had been filled with tears and quiet remembrance. For a long while Ryan refused to move into his new seat at the table. He even slept in Jacob and Alexa’s room for the first day so that he wouldn’t be alone in the room he had shared with Chris. Ryan could barely stand the loss of his best friend. Yes, Ryan was the most affected, but they all mourned for their own reasons. To Buffy, Chris had been a kind and constant companion. They weren’t especially close, but she missed his funny comments and conversation.
To Spike, Chris was part servant, part savior. One of the few that had stood by him from beginning to end. It grieved him to lose someone so intelligent and devoted. But there was more affection from Spike toward his minions than just an appreciation of their skills. A few days after he’d healed from Angelus’s attack, Spike held a small memorial for the fallen minion in the backyard of their house. Morrie’s mother even stopped by to pay her respects to both Spike and his permanently deceased servant. That was interesting: meeting local royalty. Especially when the local royalty had violent orange fur/hair on her head and really sharp looking teeth.
Buffy had invited her friends and Giles and her mom to the funeral. It was easy at the funeral. It was a funeral. Everybody knew how to act at a funeral. Quiet, conversational, sympathetic. Duh. Willow said a prayer and Buffy’s mom promised to make dinner for everybody later on. It was in the time after the funeral that things started to change.
With Giles it got easier. He wasn’t so distrustful of her anymore. They’d had a few father/daughter moments that made her feel better about their relationship. He was even mildly trusting of Spike. Buffy was sure it was her mom’s influence on Giles more than anything else. They hadn’t said anything, but Buffy was pretty sure the two of them had started dating. Kinda eww to be able to smell them on each other, but at least they weren’t lonely.
For her friends it was a bit different. They had their own lives to get on with and Buffy had less of a part in them than she used to. The newness of having a friend that was a vampire began to wear off. They still tended to think of her as the same old Buffy, just with fangs. When Angelus worked with them he was always so careful to keep his vampire characteristics hidden that it was easy to pretend he was human. Buffy refused to make it that simple to ignore her changes.
There was the first time she vamped out in front of them. She got a lot of, ‘oh, that’s nice looks’, but Buffy could tell they were disturbed by actually seeing that she had a demon. The first time she drank blood in front of them. The first time she smooched Spike. It was adding up against her in their minds. Well, maybe not against, but certainly not for. They still thought of her as the slayer. That just wasn’t how Buffy saw herself.
Sure, she still patrolled a few times a week. With her friends or with Spike. She felt a need to be out there, fighting. Could be slayerness, could be vamp territorial stuff. Spike was in it for the rush of the battle; that appealed to her too. But the demon body count wasn’t nearly as high as it had been when she was human. She couldn’t bring herself to discriminate against every demon she saw when she was one herself. Unless one of them was actively hurting an innocent, Buffy let them be.
Spike had spoken with her about the possibility of fighting the humans they saw doing wrong. He made no attempt to hide the fact that he still enjoyed the pleasure of human blood. For now, Buffy had said no. They saw mostly muggings, so killing really wasn’t a fitting punishment. Spike went with her rulings. But for a moment, however short, Buffy had considered his request. They didn’t have to kill them, just bite and frighten. She said no. But she’d considered it. No, even with her soul, she wasn’t a slayer anymore.
There were two slayers in the world who were genuine. Kendra and a girl named Faith. The Watcher’s Council was happy to rely on them, now that Buffy was something of a sticking point. They were too grateful to her for her service to kill her outright, or so they said. Buffy was pretty sure Giles had said something to the council. She bet Ripper had plenty of dirt on Quentin Travers, who would want to protect the watcher image and all that. The watchers had agreed to let her and the vamps under her protection live, provided they didn’t make massacres like the Scourge of Europe. Buffy wondered at the phrasing of that sentence. It was almost like permission. But it didn’t phase her.
There was talk in the Watcher’s Council of sending the other slayers to the Hellmouth for further training and equipping. Buffy had endorsed the idea. She wasn’t going to be here forever. It was only summer and already she felt freer of her ties to Sunnydale. She’d suggested that the girls come to stay with her mother.
Her mom had been the most consistent of her family and friends. Her mom loved her, regardless, and always would. That was a great comfort. But it made the possibility of leaving more difficult. If these two newer girls came to stay with Joyce and be taught by Giles, it would mean both company and surrogate daughters. Her mom would be provided for in all the ways Buffy could manage.
Buffy didn’t regret the slight estrangement of her friends and family. They needed to move on from what they had been together. They couldn’t hold on to the past and grow into healthy adults. Boy she was starting to sound like a psych textbook. But it was true. They needed humans before they needed vampires. And Buffy needed vampires before she needed humans. No, not true. She needed a certain vampire. And with him, she could honestly say that she’d never been happier.
Speaking of Spike. She rolled onto her stomach to get up on all fours. Slowly, she approached her prey. Buffy leaned down and blew a thin stream of air across his neck. Spike twitched, then burrowed deeper into his pillow. Buffy draped herself lightly across his back. She moved a hand to his hair to play with the little curls she’d been teasing early this morning. The other trailed down along his side, traveling down to worm its way beneath him.
Buffy tickled his stomach briefly, just to watch him squirm in his sleep, but that wasn’t her primary goal. Her hand drifted down farther, finding the coarse hair that led to her hand’s destination. Oh, there it was. Buffy ran her fingers along Spike’s limp cock, then gripped it loosely. He turned on his side while he dozed, giving her better access. She stroked him with slow, even motions. She brushed the tip at the end of every up stroke.
He began to harden beneath her touch. Buffy giggled. Miracles of vampire stamina. She reached down farther, cupping his balls in her hand. About that time Spike let out a put upon groan. “Fuck, woman, you are insatiable. Bloody good thing you didn’t end up with a human, ‘cause you would’ve ridden him into the soddin’ ground. Only so much a bloke can take, you know?” He rolled onto his back cautiously, so that Buffy slid over onto his front.
She tweaked his nose playfully. “Good afternoon to you, too.” Her hand wandered back between his legs.
Spike moaned. He grabbed her hand and gently pulled it away from his manly bits. “You know we don’t have time for this right now.”
Buffy frowned as he moved into a sitting position. “What’d do you mean?”
Spike quirked an eyebrow at her. “We’re goin’ to the hospital to see your mate after he gets his bandaids off.”
“But that’s not for hours!”
Spike nodded. “Mmm-hmm, but we’ve got your lessons between now and then too. So up and at ‘em.”
Buffy huffed. “It’s not fair. What’s the fun in being a vampire if you have to get up early? I wanna have some fun.”
Deciding not to point out that they were already two hours later than usual, Spike stood up to get out of her reach. She pouted at him again, her lower lip stuck out as far as it would go. Unable to resist, he leaned in and nibbled at it, then pressed one last kiss to her cheek. “So do I. That just goes to show that even master vampires with beautiful childer don’t get to spend all day in bed. However much they want to. I’m goin’ to take a shower, then you can have a turn.” Spike made the mistake of turning his back on Buffy to rummage in the dresser for clothing.
Buffy didn’t know if it was her demon side kicking in, but this morning she felt very horny. And very not shy about it. She used her slayer stealth and her vampire speed to stalk her sire. As he picked up his clothing she pounced, lacing her legs around his waist and her arms around his shoulders.
Spike growled in mild irritation, so with a sigh Buffy released her grip. She lowered herself to the ground. Spike turned around. He was looking at her like she was a little girl that needed to be scolded. Then all of a sudden he smirked. That open mouth smirk where he ran his tongue along the bottom of his upper teeth.
“You know Buffy, I think you’ve grown a bit too cocky.” She grinned, looking down at his crotch with hunger. Spike felt his cock swell further under her gaze. He smiled to himself. This wasn’t the same shy childe that had timidly given him a blow job just over a month ago. Buffy had grown into her own in a beautiful way. He smiled at her for a moment, then returned to his stance as sire. “As punishment, I think it’s time for a pop quiz.”
She frowned. “Wha?”
“Now Buffy, I’ve been giving you lessons for quite a little while now. Don’t tell me you haven’t been paying attention.”
She tilted her head to one side. “I have! I just didn’t think I was getting tested on it. Buffy and tests are kind of un-mixy.”
“Too-oo bad. Stand over there, back against the wall.” Spike gestured to the wall opposite the bathroom and farthest from the door. Buffy turned and walked uncertainly toward it. When she went too slowly he gave her a light swat on the rear. She jumped forward and landed with her back against the wall. Shed been standing starkers before him without hesitation a few moments ago, but now she looked nervous.
Spike sighed. He had yet to try anything too…dark in sex. Bondage was out of the question, even if he was the subject. Not after the Mansion. And Buffy was still very innocent about the possibilities, though she’d taken to the various basic positions without hesitation. She was a fast learner in ever sense of the word. She more than gave him a run for it near the end.
He might have started this with too heavy a hand. “Relax love,” he said in a soothing voice. “I’m not like those mean professors you used to have. Now spread your legs.” She calmed considerably and with a little smile parted her feet a dozen inches. “Um-mm. Much wider.” She put her hands against the wall for balance and spread her feet about four feet apart. “Excellent.”
Spike was beginning to salivate. He could smell her enthusiasm. She was always so frank and open, not just in sex, but in manner. She embraced everything he tried to show her. And he loved her for her candor and sweetness. She had yet to say I love you, but he wasn’t going to press. It was still hard for her to figure out her relationships with others after the Angelus debacle. She’d come close to saying it the day Angelus dusted. Very close.
Spike was impatient, but hadn’t pushed. He hadn’t wanted a confession forced out of her. Because he knew she loved him, with or without words. Her eyes told him. Ever day when they went to bed. When they woke up. When they made love.
Right this moment, she loved him. “This is how it works. I’m going to ask you questions. As long as you keep giving me the right answer, I keep giving you your reward. This is your reward.” He reached between her parted thighs and tickled her clit with a fingernail. She shivered. “Understand?”
She nodded emphatically and smiled. “I like Spike School quizzes better than high school quizzes.”
He smiled again. “Well, I am good at the oral exam.” She wrinkled her nose at him but giggled all the same. Spike put his hand back in position. He stared at the ceiling, searching for a good question. “Let’s start simply. Name the twelve highest vampire orders.”
Okay, this wasn’t so hard. Buffy screwed up her face in thought. “Well, um, Aurelius.” Spike began stroking slowly. “Caventalis. Sallisic.” Stroking speeded up. He was rubbing the sides of her clit. “Banvard. Stemme. Quintan- um, love that -nis.” Pressure built slowly. Buffy’s skin began to tingle. “Diotrephes. H-heimlane. Santa – ahhhh - skora. Javlais. Gersvandell - …noo!” Spike stopped stroking abruptly and Buffy moaned. Her eyes flashed at him, gold with lust.
Spike smiled apologetically. “Gersvandois. Keep going. One more.”
Her clit throbbed and her mind was stuck between gears. It was a delightful torture but she needed more. “Ughhh…Abijah?” The stroking resumed. “Ohhhh….” Buffy closed her eyes, enjoying the feel.
Spike watched her face tensing and relaxing with his gentle flicks of her clit. She was a pleasure to pleasure. So responsive. Was he supposed to be doing something? Oh, yes, asking questions. “Repeat your line of sires. From the start.”
Buffy arched her back as his pace increased again. It was getting harder to think. “Aur- elius the Founder sired …oh…Septimus sired…some other dead guy.” The fingers, wet with her juice stopped. She looked to Spike pitiably. “Spi-ike…”
Spike held back a laugh. Poor kitten was so near. He could feel her thighs trembling with the need to come. “Septimus sired Stonn.”
Buffy nodded and thrust her hips down against his hand. “Sired Stonn the Master sired Darla sired Angelus sired Drusilla sired SPIKE!” She shouted his name and came, slumping bonelessly against him. “…my sire,” she sighed contentedly.
Spike let out a growl as he supported her against him. Watching her cum was more than he could take. Leaning in he whispered, “Get ready for round two luv.” She gave him a dazed smile as she caught his meaning. Spike grabbed her hips and lifted her against the wall. Buffy reached for his cock, leading him into her. He thrust in carefully, then waited for her to steady herself. She wrapped her legs around his waist and met his eyes.
Spike leaned in and kissed her. His sweet girl. She responded eagerly, welcoming his tongue in her mouth. He pulled back and she pouted in protest. Spike grinned broadly. “What are the three duties of an Order’s Master?”
“To…um, protect the grandeur of the Order.” Spike began thrusting. “To settle disputes of between clans. To speak for the Order in disputes between Orders.” Buffy gave a little high pitched growl as she rocked in time with Spike.
If he thought he was too distracted to think up questions while Buffy was wiggling on his fingers he hadn’t counted on the feel of her writhing on his cock. “Uhh…”
“Not so easy…is it?” Buffy crowed, squeezing her muscles around him.
Spike groaned. She was smirking back at him. “Cheeky chit. Name the clan…leaders of Order Aurelius…as of the last conclave.”
“Simon…ah…Luke…Victoorrrr…Darla…Christof…Moiraaaa…oh, Spike need you so much.” Buffy broke off with a whimper. She was going crazy.
“Fuck it.” Spike dropped any pretext of quizzing Buffy and began to pound into her against the wall. Release was near and he drove them forward. He felt the tension in his body. He was near and so was she. He surged forward and clamped down on the side of her throat. Buffy screamed her pleasure at the bite and came hard. Spike followed immediately, unable to withstand her.
They slumped to the floor together, unable to hold themselves upright. Spike cushioned Buffy’s fall against his body. They lay panting on the floor for long minutes. Spike stroked Buffy’s head where it rested against his chest. “Love you so bloody much kitten. My Buffy.”
She lifted her head and stared at him, her face clouded. Spike frowned. “What’s wrong pet?”
Buffy shifted so that their chests were pressed together. She pushed her head up under his neck. Her hands played nervously along his shoulders. She’d been trying forever to get the words to come out. Spike said it so easily. Every day, at least four times. She’d counted. Time to quit stalling. Spike wasn’t Angelus. Spike wasn’t her fairytale romance. Spike was real. Spike was…hers. She was his. Before she could loose her nerve, Buffy blurted it out. “Spike…I love you.” He stiffened beneath her. She looked up into his wide, hopeful baby blues. “You know that, right?”
Spike nodded slowly. He closed his eyes, fighting tears. God, he was happy. He hugged her close. “Yeah, pet. I know. But it’s nice to hear.”
“Wanted to make sure you knew,” she murmured. Her voice was choked, fighting against tears of her own. A few moments later she raised her head to look up at Spike. She began to smile. Then grin. Then smirk. “Sooo. Can I have another quiz tomorrow?”
Spike’s deep rumbling laugh warmed them both. “We’ll see. ‘S a punishment you know. Depends on how naughty you are.”
“Oh I can be very naughty. I’ll surprise you.” She traced her fingers along his jaw.
“’M counting on it.” He kissed her again.
The End? Hmm.
*****
Thanks Linda for beta’ing and making this story better. Thank you to everyone who read this fiction. Thank you to everyone who kindly reviewed and enjoyed. I hope experiencing this fic has been as much fun as it has to me. Best wishes,
Comedy
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