Buffy woke the next morning already smiling. Her throat was tingling in a most pleasant manner. She tried to remember how it had felt after Angel had bitten her to compare.
She remembered it aching and feeling weak. Of course, in all fairness Angel had been out of his mind with fever and nearly ripped her throat wide open.
That was a far cry from Spike's love nip.
She slipped out of bed to find the make-up mirror she kept on the dresser.
The bite had obliterated Angel's mark, but it was smoother and Buffy had to actually look for it to pick it out.
She was almost disappointed, she realized, that it wasn't really obvious.
How twisted am I? Buffy wondered, I want to be marked up for everyone to see.
Spike shifted in his sleep and Buffy glanced over to the bed and smiled. He was searching for her in his sleep.
She crawled back beneath the cover and was quickly swept up in a sleepy embrace. Grinning, Buffy decided she didn't want to move for a very long time.
Which was of course when the knock on the door occurred.
“Buffy? Spike? Wake up! It's Christmas and Tara has breakfast ready. Everyone else wants to start opening presents.” Her mother's voice sounded from the other side of the door. This both woke Spike and killed all chances of cuddly private time.
Buffy rolled her eyes, “We're coming, Mom!”
* * *
Faith came to town just after New Year's. Buffy sent Spike home and insisted she was handling this herself.
She didn't know what Spike's new abilities entailed but she wanted him as far away from the ruthless Slayer as possible.
Spike did feel a bit put out. He hadn't been called the Slayer of Slayers for nothing. He hadn't done much of it in a while, but that didn't mean he was out of practice.
Buffy was firm, however, in her desire to see him safe so he backed down. It appeared she had a bit of a private vendetta to settle anyway.
Spike knew all about those and if he wanted the occasional private battle, he could not begrudge her the same.
He went home to wait, feeling like he was being grounded.
He had never actually been grounded, he was brought up in a time before such things existed and was also far too much of a mama's boy to have done anything to deserve it anyway, but he imagined this was what it felt like.
Tara soothed his ego with Ben and Jerry's and one of his Monty Python DVDs.
* * *
Faith was still reeling with the power that was being Buffy and therefore blameless.
She slipped from Joyce's house only to run into Willow in the driveway.
“They took Faith away then?” Willow asked, nervously pulling at her jacket.
“Yep, the bitch is on her way to England as we speak.” Faith tried to figure out what Buffy would say. She figured as many insults as possible would do the trick, “Man, she's a psycho.”
Willow blinked, “Er, yeah. So can we head home now? I bet Spike's worried and Tara can only keep him there for so long. I think you should maybe talk to him for a bit. I think you hurt his feelings. Maybe he thinks that you think he can't take care of himself.”
“Spike?” Faith said without thinking.
Willow's eyes widened, “Uh, yeah? You know, your man squeeze? Your boy toy? Your Sex God? Even though he's not supposed to know you call him that.”
“Oh yeah! Of course! I didn't forget him I just sort of didn't remember I left him at home.” Faith covered, less than smoothly.
Willow looked uncomfortable but nodded sagely, “Anyway, maybe you should just explain how Faith always goes after your boyfriends and you just wanted to keep him away from her. You shouldn't make it about her being the Slayer. You know how he's all 'I took care of two of them, I can take care of this one.'” Willow attempted a very poor British accent.
“Yeah, “Faith turned her head so Willow couldn't see her smirk, “She always goes after my boyfriends.”
* * *
Tara was doing laundry when the girls came home. Spike jumped up from the couch and loped over to the porch to greet them.
Faith took one look at her brand new 'boyfriend' and decided he was too much of a hottie to settle for virginal little 'B' anyway.
Exercising every skill she knew, Faith pulled him into a heated kiss. Faith felt her juices flowing but Spike pulled away quickly.
“What's the matter, baby?” Faith asked innocently, heart pounding at the suspicious expression on his face.
“Who are you?” Spike asked finally, after studying her eyes for a few seconds.
“W-what are you talking about?”
Spike squinted at Buffy. She had kissed him all wrong. Her mouth felt foreign on his. Even the first time she had kissed him he had felt like they had been doing it for years.
He looked into her eyes and saw none of Buffy's warmth. Then there was a flicker of something. He blinked and looked closer.
Magic. It shimmered like fire around her if he concentrated.
A strange, dark haired girl appeared briefly where Buffy's face had been and promptly vanished.
“You aren't Buffy. Where is she?” He gripped the girl wearing Buffy's body firmly before she could escape.
“Spike, what are you doing? Of course this is Buffy! Tara!” Willow called.
Tara came running out still clutching the bottle of Snuggle, “What's going on?” She came to a stop in front of the trio and focused on the struggling girl Spike had a death grip on, “What's wrong with her? Her aura is just… wrong.”
Willow looked from one to the other and then looked at whom she thought was her best friend, “What-who- Faith.” She said finally, the name was said in a flat tone.
Faith was still trying to pull away from Spike, what was he? She knew he was William the Bloody, some big master vampire, but he should be able to do this. He shouldn't be able to overpower her like this.
“Let me go!” Faith roared finally, giving up all pretenses.
Spike let out a low, dangerous growl and everyone froze instinctively, “What did you do?”
* * *
Spike waited patiently for the Watcher hit men to leave the cage and then he made his move. He broke the locks and pulled the door off to find a chained and thrashing dark haired Slayer, the very same from the image he'd seen over Buffy's face.
“Spike! You have to listen to me! I'm not Faith! She's stolen my body or something and-“ Spike cut her off by picking the locks on the chains.
“Hush, precious thing, I know. We figured it out. We're going to get you back where you belong.” Spike was finding it difficult to touch this girl. He knew she was Buffy for the time being but she did not have Buffy's smell, or her familiar soft golden skin. And most of all, she did not wear his mark. Everything in him was screaming how wrong it was to touch another woman.
He looked in her eyes then. Even though they were brown and a bit swollen, they had Buffy's expression in them and his heart melted. He wrapped her in his arms and felt her tremble against him.
He was just muttering soothing nonsense, when out of nowhere she pushed at him screaming, “NO!”
He turned just in time to catch the downswing of a broad sword on the side of his neck.
What happened in the next few seconds was a blur.
The blade shattered on contact with his skin, Buffy leapt across the cage with a murderous intent, and Spike tried to pull her back, knowing suddenly that she intended to kill this man and that if she did, she wouldn't be the same afterward.
Everyone froze, staring down at the shards of blue steel on the floor of the warehouse. The man looked to be stunned into stillness. Buffy had first struggled in his arms and then realized that since she was in his arms, he wasn't dust.
Spike set her down on her feet and gripped the man by the front of his coat and slammed him against the wall of the cage, knocking him unconscious.
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