Chapter 5
by Always_jbj
Turn Pairings: Spike/Buffy, Angelus/Drusilla
Rating: NC17 for language and adult themes.
DISCLAIMER: I own NOTHING: Joss owns all... but if he wants a vampire-sitter for Spike I promise to take REALLY good care of him!
Spike paced the confines of the basement, muttering to himself a stream of denials. “No! No sodding way!”
He raked his hand through his hair in frustration, glancing toward the stairs as he ran the vivid dream over in his mind, again and again.
With a growl of annoyance, he gave up on trying to work out where the bleeding hell the dream had come from and why in the name of all that was bloody unholy it had felt so damned real—real enough that he’d had to clean himself up before he could get dressed, like a worthless bloody teenage git. He grabbed his t-shirt from where he had dropped it on the floor near his bed. And what was with the bloody sheets any way? Stupid bint. Well, now her precious ‘little girl’ sheets had his cum all over them—see how she liked that . He dragged the shirt furiously over his head, running a hand once more through his unruly curls in an attempt to tame them before he made his way up the stairs to get himself some breakfast. At least once his hunger was seen to he would be able to think clearly.
*****
Buffy had barrelled into the kitchen only to stop short upon seeing Spike standing there, waiting for the microwave to finish. She felt the blood rush to her cheeks as she hesitated in the doorway; she so did not want to be sharing space with Spike right now. No... Not with the sharing of anything with Spike… not now, not ever! Never mind that his kisses left her weak and aching for more, or that his body had felt so perfect pressed up against hers, and never mind those exquisitely blue eyes that you could happily lose yourself in forever. No, definitely not thinking about the sharing of… things…with Spike.
Slayer . Spike’s jaw tightened as he drew himself up defensively. He watched in amazement as the Slayer blushed and hesitated; he heard her heart rate escalate, and if his nostrils didn’t deceive him, which they rarely did, he also caught the heady, musky scent of her arousal. Looks like the bint was more effected by my kiss than I thought, he mused to himself, completely ignoring the fact that his dick jumped to attention everytime he saw her and that he had spent half the night dreaming about her; none of that mattered. What mattered was that the bloody Slayer was standing there, getting all flushed and wet at the mere sight of him.
“Oh, bloody ‘ell, Slayer. Come in. I don’t bite.” A deep ironic chuckle resonated low in his chest before his voice dropped to a seductive drawl, “not much anyway,” he leered, looking the Slayer slowly up and down, chills coursing through her body as his eyes caressed her.
“As if I would be scared of you anyway,” Buffy huffed, rolling her eyes at the blonde menace. She purposefully made her way into the kitchen to prove to the vampire, and herself, that she was NOT afraid to be in the same space with him.
As Buffy reached into the cabinet to remove the pop tarts she sensed, rather than felt, him close the distance between them, his hands locking on the counter to either side of her. He leaned in and slowly breathed in her warm, exhilarating scent, then lifted his head to lock fiery blue eyes upon her green ones. “You may not be scared of me, pet, but you’re sure as hell scared of what I do to you. Face it. The Big Bad turns you on, kitten, and that scares you to the bone.”
“My God, ego much?” Buffy made to push past him, and as their arms touched a thrill of longing coursed through each of them. Spike pulled away quickly as he fought to hide his reaction from the diminutive blonde. Buffy gasped, pulling her arm back and away from the undeniably gorgeous vampire who was causing her to have such completely wrong feelings. Please God, tell me why everyone else gets to go home, and Kendra gets to stay with Giles, and I get stuck with the annoying, egotistical, oh so sexy vampire?
“Right then. Well, I’ll get outta your way then, shall I?” Spike moved to leave just as the bell on the microwave sounded.
Buffy sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “No, Spike, it’s ok. Stay, have your breakfast.” She dropped the pop tart into the toaster and poured herself a cup of coffee. “I mean, it’s a big enough kitchen. It’s not like we’ll be in each other’s way or anything.” There, she could be magnanimous when she wanted!
They each prepared their breakfast, taking care to avoid each other in the process. Jumping up to sit on the counter, Spike sipped at his blood, watching her as she moved around the room while images from his dream flitted through his mind, lost until a raised voice broke through his reverie.
“Hello? Geesh, where were you?’
“Sorry, luv, thinking ‘bout some things is all. You say something?” He quickly finished the mug full and, getting down from the counter, moved quickly towards the sink to wash the mug out.
“Yeah, only three times.” Buffy gave him one of her patented annoyed looks. “I said , Giles is going to be over soon. He was kinda saying that seeing as you are on our side now, that you could help me patrol. Oh, and that he was wanting to go over some stuff in a book with you… some watchery stuff, you know… about you, and the others… the rest of the Scourge.”
“You’re mad as a bloody two-bob watch if you think I’m gonna jump through hoops for you or your soddin’ tweed-coated wanker!” Indignation flared across the vampire’s face. “’m here to help you fight Angelus, that’s it! ‘m not a bloody pet vampire performing circus tricks for the likes of you lot. Watcher wants to know about me an’ mine, he can find out some other bloody way.”
“Oh, you are so insufferable, you know that?! Fine, be like that.”
“Fine, I will!” Spike stormed through the basement door, slamming it behind him as he went.
Buffy stomped out of the kitchen, passing her wide-eyed mother on her way, and fled upstairs to the sanctity of her bedroom.
Joyce sighed at their antics. It was definitely going to be a long day! Her thoughts were interrupted as a throat was cleared; she turned to see Mr Giles standing just inside the doorway, looking more than just a little nervous. Giles smiled shyly at Buffy’s mother before stepping into the kitchen.
He had come over in the hopes of convincing Joyce that the vampire should be restrained in some manner, or that perhaps Kendra should stay here while he kept the vampire at his apartment. There were of course certain - holes - in the Watchers’ Diaries regarding the Scourge of Europe that he was hoping Spike would consent to fill in for him. Upon arrival, he had let himself into the house and had made his way to the kitchen in time to catch the end of the small drama unfolding therein and Joyce’s tired sigh.
“I know this is quite a lot to take in… and well, in all honesty, it is my fervent wish that none of this had ever touched yours or Buffy’s lives. Unfortunately, I have no power over who is Chosen; it is merely my duty to help her in any way I can and do my utmost to keep her alive.” Giles removed his glasses, looking the woman before him in the eye before continuing. “Buffy truly is an amazing young woman, and it is my belief that she is one of the best Slayers ever to have existed.”
“That may well be, Mr Giles, but she is my daughter, my only child. And you send her out there, each night, knowing that she may not be coming back. How do you justify that to yourself? How do you send a young girl out to fight such monsters?”
“It is not easy. All I can do is support her and believe in her. Buffy has become, since she was placed in my charge, much like a daughter to me. While I do not deign to suggest that I know how you feel, I believe I do know some measure of it.” Giles’ shoulders slumped dejectedly; how could he explain without causing this woman, whom he was rapidly coming to admire, further pain? “The truth of the matter is that these creatures will seek her out regardless of my involvement. So, better I am there to help her, train her, prepare her in any way that I am able, than to leave her to face the danger alone. Would I it were any other way."
“And Spike?”
“I’m afraid I don’t follow?” Giles tried to make sense of the rapid change in direction the conversation had taken.
“Where does Spike fit, in the general scheme of things? I was just wondering?” Joyce’s voice betrayed only the slightest hint of the frustration she was feeling at the moment.
In a very short space of time, she had found out that her only child was a super-powered ‘Chosen One’ whose mission it was to fight evil—vampires, mostly. Then, mere heartbeats later, she was being told that the self-same daughter had been killed in the course of this sacred mission. As she had tried to come to terms with—no, that was something she could never come to terms with—as she tried to grasp the words that were falling from the handsome librarian’s lips, her daughter was returned to her, injured but alive, by the blonde vampire she had been told was instrumental in her daughter’s death.
Call it a mother’s instinct, or just mere observation, but something was definitely happening between her daughter and her vampire saviour. She had seen them kissing, seen the depth of passion that had flared up between them; more than that, she had seen the way they looked at each other when the other wasn’t watching. She had seen Buffy’s cutting words cause hurt to flash across the vampire’s expressive face, only to be hidden almost instantly by a sneer and equally cutting remark of his own. There was no doubt in Joyce’s mind that the two were very strongly attracted to each other, but her instincts told her that that attraction was merely the tip of the iceberg.
“Spike is a killer. A creature responsible for the death of two Slayers and countless numbers of innocent people,” Giles answered her, the hard note in his voice making clear that where Spike was concerned there was no room for compromise in the watcher’s mind. “The fact that he has access to your home, and is being allowed to roam free… well, it causes me great concern to say the least. I should hate to see any harm befall you.”
Joyce felt a sudden chill run down her spine; she was unable to decide if it was caused by the fear of her daughter becoming involved with someone declared to be a merciless killer, or by her fear of the resentment and ridicule Buffy would most likely face from these people because of such an involvement. After observing the pair for the last few days, Joyce was in no doubt that a relationship between them was inevitable. All she could do was pray that any feelings Spike was developing for her daughter were strong enough to overcome his inherent nature.
“I see. Well, thank you for your honesty, but as I have said before—he saved my daughter’s life, and while he is in this house I will not have him treated as anything other than a guest.” Joyce spoke quietly but firmly, looking the Watcher in the eye before smiling understandingly at him to soften the sting of her words. She knew that the Watcher was being honest with her about his fears, yet for some reason she could not help but feel he was wrong about the blonde vampire. She wasn’t sure what it was, something in his eyes maybe, but deep down inside Joyce was certain that Spike was not the danger he was made out to be; at least, not to her family.
*****
He woke groggily, pulled from his dreams as the girl sprawled across his body shifted in her sleep, burrowing closer to him and mumbling softly to herself. He looked down at the dark head resting against the pale flesh of his chest. Their coupling had been fierce and vicious—just the way I like it— he thought to himself, his lips curling into a cold, malicious smile. She was perfect, his mate; in all the world, there was none more suited to him, and together they would bring this world to its knees and wallow in its blood.
Why, then, did he dream of blonde hair and green eyes filled with—what was that... love ? Why was his sleep marred by feelings of protectiveness, devotion and admiration for the blonde whore of a slayer? What was wrong with him when his mate lay sleeping in his arms, and he was wistfully dreaming of holding that filthy cunt in his arms and kissing her tenderly?
He shrugged himself out from beneath Drusilla’s sleeping form, ignoring her quiet murmurs of discontent as the need to move, to KILL something overran him. He paced angrily around the bedchamber, eyes searching for something to destroy before settling on the collection of porcelain dolls; in a sweep of his arm they flew to the floor, shattered pieces of china flying in all directions. Furiously, he pulled on the strange trousers he had been wearing as he made his way out into the factory proper to vent his rage upon the remnants of Spike’s minions.
As the dust settled in the now all but abandoned factory, Angelus brushed his hands on his pants, eyes gleaming with evil delight at the violence he had just visited on the twenty-odd vampires who were now little more than fertiliser beneath his feet. His smile vanished and a deep growl sounded in his throat as he realised he no longer had any minions. Damn, I really have to learn to control my temper!
*****
That night, after everyone was asleep, Buffy made her way quietly down the stairs and through the house. The day had been spent going over plans with her Watcher and researching through an endless number of boring books to find out anything they could about Angelus and Drusilla, all while the perfectly good source of information they had, sulked downstairs in the basement and refused any requests for his assistance. Then instead of patrolling, Giles had ordered—yes, ordered —her to stay indoors. Apparently he didn’t think she was capable of taking on Angelus and Dru by herself. Again, the sulking vampire downstairs was at fault; if he would go with her on patrol… but no, he doesn’t jump through hoops. Stupid vampire .
Which brought her back, once more, to the reason she was sneaking around the house in the middle of the night; that vampire and the way he was making her feel, not to mention the dream she’d had. There was just no way she was getting any sleep tonight until she had spoken to him and gotten this all worked out.
She paused, listening carefully for movement above in her mother’s room, but her ears were met with nothing but silence assuring her that her mother was soundly asleep; taking a deep, calming breath she continued on. The basement door opened without a sound, and she silently thanked her mother’s diligence when it came to keeping the hinges well-oiled.
As the door closed behind her, she found herself engulfed in total blackness. She closed her eyes to fight off the sudden wave of vertigo that the complete absence of any light had brought on. After steadying herself for some minutes, one hand pressed against the wall for support, Buffy opened her eyes to find the darkness fractionally less complete; she was able now to make out vague shapes. The outline of the handrail was just visible a few feet to her right, and she carefully reached out for it.
“You were wantin’ something, Slayer?” Spike’s voice growled out of the darkness below. Damn, why can he see me when I can hardly see a foot in front of me? SO not fair!
“I wanted to talk to you.” Her voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, yet she knew that the vampire would hear her.
“Well, better be getting your pretty arse down here then, ‘less you were plannin’ on a long-distance conversation?”
“I…” Buffy swallowed around the lump of fear in her throat. Oh God, this was a mistake , I shouldn’t be here. What am I doing sneaking around the house in the middle of the night to talk to the sexy vampire who I SO should not be down here talking to, but who won’t get out of my head, and… ok... I can do this, one foot in front of another, it’s as easy as that!
She tightened her grip on the railing and slowly descended the stairs, stumbling when she reached the bottom and the next step that she reached for was so not there. Strong arms caught her before she could fall; Spike steadied her before turning to lead her safely through the blanketing shadows, across the room to the relative safety of the cot.
Now that she was here Buffy couldn’t find the words to begin, so she sat awkwardly perched on the edge of the cot, her hands folded neatly in her lap, eyes downcast as she tried to summon the courage to tell the vampire what was on her mind. The silence stretched on, broken only by her ragged breathing and the pounding of her heart.
“Slayer?” Spike urged her quietly; her heart was pounding, and along with the scent of arousal he could smell her fear. He knew that she was close to bolting. It was most likely only the all-encompassing darkness that was keeping her where she was. He sat down on the narrow bed next to her. “C’mon, slayer, whatever it is you’re here to say isn’t gonna go away just by…”
“I had a Slayer dream,” Buffy blurted the information out, and then drew a long shuddering breath before turning to stare into Spike’s face, his blue eyes still clearly visible through the gloom.
“'kay… an’ that means?”
“Slayer dreams are like… well, they’re kind of a prophesy-type thing. They pretty much come true—not always exactly as I dream them, but close enough.”
“An’ how do you know this dream you had is a Slayer dream an’ not just any old dream?”
Buffy paused, looking off into the darkness. Ok… you can do this, you’ve come this far, so you can tell him the rest. But, oh god, what if he just thinks I’ve lost it completely and laughs at me? Alright, Buffy, get over it. You can do this, deep breath and just, “Slayer dreams feel real, like you’re really there,” her voice was so quiet that only a vampire could possibly have heard her. “I dreamt about… I dreamt about you, you and me actually. We were… we kinda…”
The vampire’s indrawn hiss of air brought her to a stop. “Tell me about it,” he demanded. Softening his tone, he reached out and cupped her cheek gently with his hand, turning her face so that she was once again looking at him. “Everything, pet; tell me everything.”
Haltingly, she told him the details of the dream; when her discomfiture caused her to hesitate, he took up where she’d left off, filling her in on the remaining details and causing her to flush deeper with increased embarrassment. By the time he had finished, her face was hidden in her hands, mortified that Spike knew every intimate detail of the vivid Slayer dream she had had the night before.
Shifting closer to the girl, Spike gently lay a hand on her shoulder. “S’alright, luv. Shh… don’t get yourself upset ‘bout it. It was a dream, ‘s all.”
“How do you…”
“Yeah, well, here’s the interesting bit. It seems you an’ I had the same dream, luv.”
“What? But how?” Her eyes widened as she realised the implications of that statement. “Oh! Oh, that means that you… and…”
“Don’t rightly know how or why, Slayer, I just…”
“Buffy. Please, Spike, will you call me Buffy? The Slayer is what I am, not who I am.” Her voice was stronger, more certain than it had been only moments before. “Ok, so what does this mean? I mean, there was the Slayer dream, and the kiss, and… well, that was...” She looked up at the now cockily grinning vampire, “Ok… it was ok,” she finished, hiding her own grin as she watched his reaction to her teasing.
“Ok, was it? I’ll show you bloody ok, wench,” Spike mock-growled at her. Buffy squeaked and shot up from the cot, giggling as she tried to make her way through the darkness to the stairs.
Spike pulled the Slayer tight against his body, pressing her close, feeling her heart pounding against him as his mouth slowly descended upon hers. He gently ran his tongue along her lower lip, asking for and receiving access; their tongues duelled, not the furious fight to the death one would expect from creatures such as they, but a slow sensual battle, each in turn giving and then retaking lost ground. Spike’s eyes fluttered closed, long lashes brushing gently against smooth pale skin; Buffy’s longing moan of pleasure exacted one of equal intensity from the vampire as he gathered her yet closer, aching desperately to feel her body as close to him as possible.
This can’t be happening. Why the soddin’ hell am I kissin’ the Slayer when Dru is off fuckin’ the Grand Bloody Poof?
Seconds later he answered his own question, emphatically stamping down on the lingering doubts plaguing his subconscious.
‘Cause it feels better than anything you’ve ever known in your whole bleedin’ life or unlife, so stop your whinging and just enjoy it.
Gathering the girl into his arms, he carried her back to the cot; without losing contact with her mouth or body, he lay her down, covering her body with his and settling himself carefully between her jean-clad legs.
*****
An ear piercing scream echoed off the walls of the basement. “What in the name of all that is holy?” Xander’s face flushed with fury as he glared in horror at the sight before him.
The Slayer and the vampire lay entwined together on the narrow cot. Spike was spread-eagled on the bottom, and the Slayer slept draped across his body, her head pillowed on his chest. The vampire's arms, which were wrapped protectively around her, tightened further; amber eyes flashed and fangs surged forth as he shot awake with a growl, ready to defend the girl in his arms against whatever danger currently threatened them.
“Spike.” Her quiet voice and warm little hand placed gently on his arm were all it took to calm the vampire. He turned, blue eyes blazing, to look at her where she lay on the cot, having been deposited there when he flew out from under her. She was beautiful, no doubting that, but there was more... so much more. She radiated power, strength; she was the Slayer, and so help him she was his , of that he was certain; he would fight to keep her, and he would kill or die to defend her.
“You alright, pet?” His head tilted slightly to the side, the sharp lines of his face softening as he looked at her with concern etched on his handsome features. He felt her hand tighten fractionally on his arm, giving him a gentle reassuring squeeze.
“Buff... wha’… why… HOW COULD YOU?” Xander’s face reddened further as he stammered in disgust, his eyes flicking back and forth between the vampire and the Slayer. Buffy moved to sit up behind Spike, her arms snaking around him and her cheek nuzzling gently against his back.
“Buffy!”
“What, Xander?” Buffy glared at her friend before planting a kiss against Spike’s smooth skin and climbing out of the tiny bed. “How could I what?”
The boy, being too caught up in his own righteous indignation, missed the threatening tone of her voice and plundered on heedlessly. “How could you… that … with him? With that creature ? He’s a thing Buffy! A dirty, disgusting, filthy thing !
“Ok, for starters, you have no idea what you are talking about. Spike is NOT a thing! He’s a vampire, yeah… ok… but not a thing. And secondly, it just so happens that he showed a hell of a lot more restraint, and was a hell of a lot more of a gentleman last night, than most human males would have been.” Buffy’s gaze narrowed as she fixed her eyes on the young man in front of her.
“Pet,” Spike’s voice was quiet and soothing as he tried to calm the irate girl; she looked for all the world as if she might knock the head clean off the stupid git who still didn’t have the sense to realise what kind of danger he was in.
“No, Spike, I have had just about enough of Mr High-and-Mighty Xander Harris and his idea of how I should live my life. Especially when he comes in here accusing you of being a thing, after the things he’s done….” She spun around, once more fixing her gaze on the boy. “How’s it go, Xan? Let he who is without sin… and… and... something about the throwing of stones.”
Spike ducked his head to hide the grin; wouldn’t be a good idea to have his Slayer know he was laughing at her, now would it?
Xander shook his head in disbelief, “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, come on. You don’t think I actually bought that whole I don’t remember anything routine, do you? I mean, how lame was that? And you don’t think I actually forgot, do you, Xander? You think I conveniently forgot you trying to rape me?”
Before either of them could react, an angry, growling vampire in full gameface had Xander pinned by the throat against the far wall of the basement.
“You did what?” Spike growled.
“Spike, no!” Buffy practically flew across the room; grabbing Spike’s arm she willed the vampire to look at her. When he did, she smiled gently at him. “Please Spike, don’t. Let him go.” She removed one hand from his arm, and reached up to gently stroke his face, running her fingers tenderly over the rugged planes of the bumps and ridges that shaped his non-human features. “Please.”
He dropped the whelp to the ground and gathered Buffy close in his arms. “If he ever so much as lays a hand on you again, luv…”
“Shhh, its ok. Slayer, remember? I can take care of myself,” she chided him gently before burrowing into his chest. “But thanks for caring.”
As he nuzzled into her hair, planting soft kisses and breathing in her warm, living scent, Spike marvelled at the array of choices that had led them to this point. Above all, the events of the previous night rang clearly through his mind.
*****
The Slayer’s warm, hungry body writhed beneath him as his hands wandered over her, slowly worshiping every curve—the dip of her waist, the soft gentle swell of her breast. His hand slid below the waist of her top, gliding upwards over warm soft skin to her bare breast. He ran his thumb teasingly over a nipple, her gasp of pleasure and her body arching up to his all the encouragement he required; pinching the now-pebbled flesh slowly between his thumb and forefinger, he slowly increased the pressure, then tweaked it suddenly to be rewarded once more with a gasp of pleasure and the overwhelming scent of a fresh wave of arousal as it flooded her already sodden panties.
He bent to capture her mouth in yet another searing kiss while pressing his aching erection against her heated centre; the layers of denim between them doing little to reduce the pleasure they both felt at such a connection. Her greedy hands clutched and grasped at his body, hot little fingers kneading the flesh on his back and his arse as she moaned longingly against his mouth.
Her grip tightened on his bum, pulling him closer to her as she wiggled against his hard-on and caused him to cry her name, his voice harsh with lust and need . With a growl he pressed into her, swivelling his hips to elicit even greater sensations from each of them. He nibbled at her lips before moving to trail kisses and nips along her jaw to her neck, burrowing his face into the warm delight of her throat as he licked, nipped and gently sucked on the pulse point, all the while keeping up the torturous play of his hands and cock against her highly responsive flesh.
Buffy was drowning, reeling from the wonder of the things Spike was doing to her, the feelings he was bringing out in her; never in her life had anyone or anything made her feel the way he was now.
The grinding of his hips was sending her into a delirium of want, and when his lips closed over her pulse, suckling gently while lightly scraping his blunt human teeth across the sensitised area, she thought she would combust. Desperate to feel as much of him, as close to her as possible, she clutched tighter against him while one hand snaked down between them to reach for the button on his jeans. His moan as her hand gingerly wormed beneath the waist of his jeans sent a fresh wave of desire flooding through her body, along with an unbelievable surge of pride that she had the power to draw such an exquisite response from her vampire—for there was no doubt in her mind at all that that was what he was… her vampire.
Inching further into his jeans, she closed her hand timidly around him and was rewarded by a hiss of desire and the sudden jump in her hand of his straining erection. She moved her head slightly to enable her to kiss along his collarbone, and when she reached his throat she sucked gently, nuzzling into him as he moaned appreciatively. Buffy closed her teeth gently on the vampire’s neck; a loud, urgent moan of longing was followed quickly by a frustrated growl as he threw himself from the bed, and her arms.
Spike stormed across the room, hands clenching in his hair as he fought to reacquire some semblance of control over his lust-filled, aching body. A soft whimper from the bed, and a barely concealed sniffle, had him spinning back the way he had come. His amber eyes easily took in the confused girl huddling against the wall, her eyes still clouded with lust yet brimming with unshed tears as she tried to reason why he had flown from her arms in such a manner.
All thought of his own discomfort flew out the window as he sat back down on the bed and gathered the trembling girl into his arms, his demon features slipping away as he stroked her hair and softly soothed,“Shh, pet, s’ok.” He drew her onto his lap, and as she burrowed into his chest he planted soft kisses to the top of her head and nuzzled gently into her hair.
After some time a quiet voice asked, “What did I do?”
“Wha…? No... nothing; you did nothing luv,” a cheeky grin lit his face, “nothing I didn’t like, anyway.”
“Then why?” Buffy sniffed, wiping away the tears that still threatened to spill.
“Don’t think I don’t want you luv, don’t ever think that; cause I do, want you so much it bloody hurts. But it’s too soon, an’… well, I’m not the soddin’ poof. Little girls were always his thing. Not that I’m sayin’ you’re a little girl,” he hastened to add, “but you are only sixteen, luv, an’ I just want us to take our time. When we make love, I want it to be cause we both want it.” He shushed her when she opened her mouth to protest, “And when we’re both thinkin’ clearly, not all worked up like we were just then, an’ have been ever since that bloody dream. I want to know you’re in my bed cause you want me… not cause some soddin’ dream told you we were prophesised or some such.” He gently lifted her chin until she was looking him in the eye, “Do you understand what I’m saying, Buffy?”
She nodded her head and smiled tentatively at him. “You said ‘when’.”
“Pardon, luv?”
“You didn’t say if we make love, you said ‘when’.” She snuggled in closer to him, enjoying the feel of his strong arms around her.
“Yeah, I did, didn’t I?” Spike lay down on the bed, pulling Buffy with him as he settled them comfortably in the close confines of the cot. The soft sound of her breathing and the rhythm of her heart were slowly lulling him towards slumber when Buffy’s voice broke hesitantly through the peaceful fog of sleep.
“It was a claiming, wasn’t it, Spike? Like you were telling me about the other day?”
“Yes, luv, it was.”
“Would you… would you want that… with me?” she whispered.
“Yeah, kitten, I think I would. Now shush, luv, go to sleep.” He snuggled her closer against his chest, his arms locking around her as he closed his eyes once more and let sleep draw him down.
*****
Without so much as a backward glance at the boy laying on the ground clutching at his bruised throat, gasping for breath and reeking of his own urine, the pair made their way up the stairs to confront whatever other obstacles lay between them and the happiness they hoped they would find in each other.
They reached the kitchen, hands linked and fingers entwined, to come face to face with Buffy’s mother. She looked at the pair, and with a pointed look at the vampire asked, “I don’t need to be reminding you that Buffy is only sixteen, do I, Spike?”
Before Spike could answer Buffy spoke up, “No Mom, you really don’t.” She reached up with her free hand to stroke the sharp planes of Spike’s cheek, a gentle smile graced her face and her eyes gazed gratefully into his. Turning back to her mom, she spoke again. “Turns out our Big Bad here is a gentleman.” The chastising growl brought forth a burst of giggles as she turned once more to the now-scowling vampire. “What’s wrong, Spike? I promise, your secret is safe with us. Right, Mom?” she teased.
A genuine smile formed on Joyce’s face. “I promise, Spike. Not a word.”
*****
Joyce had gone to the gallery that day, and after a brief Scooby meeting, at which Xander was conspicuously absent, the gang had gone their separate ways. The lack of any further news in regard to the two brunette vampires left them with no option other than to wait and see what happened next. Eyes had opened wide and jaws had dropped when the Slayer and the vampire had walked into the room hand in hand. After a warning growl from Spike and a brief flash of amber eyes, no one had said a word.
Once everyone else was gone, Giles called Buffy aside… Spike smirked inwardly; as if he couldn’t hear anything they had to say, no matter where in the house the Watcher decided to have his little chat. After a very heated debate with Buffy, amongst other arguments, insisting that both she and Spike had shared a Slayer dream about them being together ‘and NO she did not want to share the details of said dream,’ Giles had relented, ‘against his better judgement’.
“I will be back this afternoon, Buffy. I would like to go over details of tonight’s patrol with you before you leave. I am assuming Spike is now willing to patrol with you?” At her nod, he had seen himself out, leaving the new couple to the peace of an empty house for the remainder of the day.
They spent the rest of the day cuddled together on the couch, alternating between watching the TV... how can Spike possibly like that show … and sharing searing, bone-melting kisses.
*****
The sun had only recently set when a timid knock sounded from the front door. Joyce moved to answer it, only to be stopped.
“Mom, wait... I’ll get it.” Buffy grabbed a stake and glanced at her Watcher, indicating silently that he take care of her mother, before she moved to the door, shadowed closely by the highly alert vampire.
The door opened to reveal a small bespectacled man, trembling slightly with fear. Before Buffy could say a word, a deep English voice drawled from behind her, “Well, well, Dalton. So tell me, mate , did Angelus send you?”
Next round... Icemink... tag, you are it!
TBC
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