Needlework

Author: Holly (holly.hangingavarice@gmail.com)
Rating: NC-17 (For language, violence, and sexual situations)
Timeline: Season 5. Goes AU during Buffy v. Dracula
Summary: Buffy awakens to a new world where the rules as she knows them don’t apply and nothing is as it was. Without her friends, without her calling, there is only one person who can save her from self-destruction.

Disclaimer: The characters herein are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. They are being used for entertainment purposes out of respect and admiration, and not for the sake of profit. No copyright infringement is intended.

He would never forget the look on her face. Never. In a thousand years, after they’d spent each day in each other’s arms, overcoming foes and obstacles unforeseen in this century, this moment—today—would be fresh in his mind. Fresh sparks of happiness filling eyes that only a few days ago had been so thoroughly devastated. He had brought new life to her. Life that neither one of them had been prepared for. Now at the end of their first week together, it seemed impossible that he had ever gone an entire day without this. Without waking up with her in his arms. Without knowing the wonder at being the one she needed. Without having her all to himself—her taste, her kisses, the raw agony of her tears.

A few days. She had tried to go outside and found herself scathed in return. She had awoken sobbing for the loss of her sire, but the wail was gone now. Even without the connection he wanted, he would have known if her demon was still in that state of agony only a lost vampire could describe. Buffy was no longer a lost vampire. She had a long way to go still, but then again, so did he. He just made a better show for covering it up.

There wasn’t much for candles and romance in his crypt. Buffy deserved so much better than a hole in the ground.

And then he had asked her, and the world stopped turning.

“You…” Buffy had started slowly, looking at him in awe. “You really want that?”

The fact that she even had to ask tore him to bits.

“God, yes,” Spike replied ardently, fervor storming his eyes. “I love you. Of bloody course I want it. Wanted it that firs’ night, when you were here an’ cryin’, an’ I couldn’t do anythin’ for you. I wanted you…” He glanced down and released a steady breath. “This is it for me, sweetheart,” he began slowly, looking up when he had a tighter rein on his emotions. “I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. As much as I love you. An’ I never will. You’re it for me.”

She paused cautiously. “But you thought Dru was it for you, too.”

“She wasn’t.”

“But what if you meet someone else and…someone who’s not hampered by a soul and is all ‘Oh, humans! My favorite on-legs happy meal!’” Buffy tore her eyes away uncertainly. “I just…I just want you to be sure. I couldn’t take it if you…I just couldn’t take it.”

“If I killed?”

She wet her lips. “If you left. If you realized you’d made a mistake. If you met someone who…and you realized you’d made a mistake with me, but were bound to me for forever. And you couldn’t—”

Spike growled slightly and hopped off the sarcophagus, storming to where she sat and all but yanking her into his arms.

“Now, you listen to me,” he said slowly. “I love you. I don’ dick around with words like that without meanin’ it. You own me, body an’ the other thing. An’ I know you’re it because it’s never been like this for me. Never. There’s no one out there I could ever begin to want as much as I want you, let alone love. I don’ do it half-assed, Buffy. If my feelings were different, I wouldn’t’ve asked you. If I thought this was a fling, I wouldn’t’ve said a bloody word. You’re it for me. An’ I want you as my mate, an’ I’ve never wanted anythin’ as much. I want our life together to begin now.” He broke off, shaking his head aggressively. “I can’t fathom an eternity without you. The thought alone…” A violent shudder rang through his body, and he felt tears sting his eyes. “I won’ do it. I can’t do it. I got over Dru because she wasn’ it. Because what I felt for her was jus’ an imitation of the real thing. You’re it. You…leavin’ you wouldn’t jus’ destroy me. There’d be nothin’ left at all.” He paused. “Destroyed…not defeated. Is that how the sayin’ goes? You can destroy a man, but you can’t defeat him. So you see, sweetheart, you already got yourself a mate in name. I’m gonna feel whatever you feel. I’ll be there till the bloody end…an’ I want this more than…” He shook his head again, pressing his brow to hers as his body calmed. “God, I love you so much, Buffy. To hurt you is…I’m not gonna be like the others, right? I’m not gonna leave you. I never could. It’d be the end of me. With or without the claim, I’m yours forever. I jus’ want you to be mine, too.”

Her face was a mess of tears, and she had pulled him to her before he could apologize for making her so upset. Hugging him tightly to her, releasing a long sigh of relief when his arms closed around her trembling body.

“God, I’m such a git.” Spike pulled back slightly and kissed her mouth, shuddering at the taste of her tears. “’m sorry, baby. Never wanted to make you cry.”

“No, no.” She shook her head and pulled away, wiping at her eyes. “I’m okay.”

“Buffy—”

“They’re happy tears, Spike,” she whispered. “I just…I guess…I never thought that you would really…that you could want me the way I want you.”

A small, gentle smile crossed his face, and he kissed her again. “Then you’re daft. I’ve felt this way for-bloody-ever. Longer than even I can keep tabs on. Prob’ly since the firs’ time I saw you. Dancin’ in the Bronze…god, you were so bloody perfect.” He buried his face in the crook of her throat, drawing her as close to him as possible. “Please don’ doubt me,” he whispered. “I was with Dru from the moment I crawled outta my grave, an’ I would’ve stayed with her if she hadn’t gotten bored an’ cast me aside. An’ it wasn’t real with her. It’s real with you, luv. What I feel for you…it’s so much more than anythin’ I even thought possible.”

She squeezed him to her tightly and brushed a kiss across his shoulder. “Me too,” she replied.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I don’…’f you ever regretted it, it’d break my heart.”

“I’m sure.”

“Buffy—”

She pulled back and kissed him tenderly, stroking his tongue with hers. “I’m sure,” she said. “I’m so sure. It’s…for the first time…real to me, too.”

Spike froze against her, sure he had heard wrong. “The…did you jus’ say the firs’ time?”

“Yes.”

“Even…” He drew in a breath, the name alone nearly inspiring his fangs to descend in a jealous outburst. “Even…it wasn’ real with…you’re sayin’, even includin’…”

Buffy smiled and brushed her lips against his cheek. “Yes.”

“Bloody hell.” He cupped her cheeks reverently and seized her mouth with his, pulling her into him. It was so simple for the world around them to dissolve. For everything else to get shoved aside for the feel and taste of her. For the way she whimpered into him and couldn’t keep her hands from exploring his body. Every touch she gave him drove him completely out of his mind. Just when he thought he couldn’t want her more, she completely turned his world upside down.

“So is that a yes?” he murmured when they pulled apart.

“What?”

“You acceptin’ my…” He broke off, grinning. “Well, proposal, for lack of a better word.”

She laughed lightly and glanced down. “This is the second time you’ve proposed to me in a year,” she said.

“Yeh, well, if you’d actually gone through with it the firs’ time…”

“Me?! You’re the one who called it off.”

“Yeh. ‘Cause that expression of horror on your face was your best ‘come hither’ look. I might be a soulless, bloodsucking thing, but I have my pride, you know.” His grin widened and he kissed her again. “Buffy, I’m on pins an’ needles here.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

Buffy scowled at his dancing eyes. “You know damn well what.”

“An’ a bloke doesn’ like to hear it?” He chuckled as he leaned in to nibble affectionately at her throat. “This is, after all, an’ accepted proposal to an eternity bein’ stuck with yours truly. Don’ wanna walk away from this thinkin’ that you feel you got the consolation prize.”

“You’re so not the consolation prize.” She smirked. “If you’re the consolation prize, I’d like to take a gander at first place.”

“Buffy—”

“What do you want me to say? Yes, yes, yes to all of the above. I want you to claim me. I want to be claimed. I want to claim you. I want to be your mate. I want to spend eternity with you. I want it all.”

Spike tackled her back on the sarcophagus, kissing her into the next world. His hands were everywhere; he couldn’t taste her enough, touch her enough, to appease his insatiable hunger. He wanted to take her now. Wanted to lose himself inside her for hours. Wanted to sink his fangs into her throat as he took her body with his, and whisper those glorious words that would make her his forever.

Pulling away was one of the hardest things he had ever done. There were certain things that couldn’t be rushed.

In order for her to be his—for them to be each other’s—there was one more thing they had to do.

And he suddenly knew how to do it.

A frown crossed her face when he pulled away. “Why stopping?” she pouted. “Want more smoochies.”

He grinned. “Oh, you’ll get them, sweetheart. That an’ more so.”

“Then why stopping?”

“I think I jus’ figured somethin’ out.” He pressed his brow to hers. “’m gonna give you somethin’ you need.”

She was working a hand between them, suspiciously directed at his erection. “Yeah, there is something I need.”

“Ah, ah, ah.” Spike seized her wrist and dragged her away from him. “Playtime later.”

“Evil.”

“Yes. I’ve never tried to steer you otherwise.” He planted a kiss on her nose. “I’ll be back soon.”

Buffy sat up, her pout deepening. “So now you’re not only refusing me, you’re leaving me, too?”

“Two things,” he murmured, “that I can assure you are not in my workin’.”

“And yet, towards the door you go.”

Spike smiled. “Won’t be long. An’ then we’ll give this theory of mine a test.”

“Theory?”

“Help you with your demon, sweetling. With the violence an’ the rest…I know how.” He caressed her cheek tenderly. “’S important, luv, before we make it official. That is, ‘course, presumin’ you still want me to.”

The mock-pout in her eyes vanished into something kindled with awe. “You…really?”

He nodded.

“H-how?”

A smile at that. “That, my love, would spoil the surprise, now wouldn’t it?”

“Surprise?”

He winked. “You’ll see.”

Spike was not known for his patience when it came to keeping a secret, even if only for an hour or so. Well, to be completely fair, he wasn’t known for his patience at all, which only contributed to her intrigue at his boyish resilience. He arrived home about an hour after he had left, taken one look at her, then dragged her across town to the wooded area that surrounded Sunnydale. A place she didn’t know very well. Her slaying duties didn’t take her out this far often, and even so, she made little effort to familiarize herself with the paths and trails that would otherwise help her ongoing mission.

“Is this really necessary?”

Spike tossed her a narrow glance. “Would I have you out here if it wasn’t?”

“I mean, is it necessary for me to be out here in the forest? What’s wrong with the graveyard?”

“Well, I’ll bet all the money in my pockets against all the money in your pockets plus a carton of ciggies that you jus’ don’t get out here all that often. An’ I want you somewhere where you don’ know your way around with a bloody blindfold on.”

Buffy smirked. “You want me, eh?”

He chuckled. “More than you know.”

“You know, if you wanted to be voyeuristic, we could’ve gone somewhere more public.” She paused. “Are you filming a porno out here?”

That earned an all out laugh. “God, I’ve completely corrupted you, haven’t I?”

“What?”

“That’s all that’s on your mind, huh? Sex, sex, sex.”

She giggled. “Well, you know that phase in new relationships where you can’t keep your hands off each other?”

A sneer crossed his face. “Do I ever,” he retorted, pinching her ass and earning a squeal. And Buffy was suddenly assaulted by five feet ten inches of an intensely aroused vampire. Out in the open, there was nothing to press her against, thus he lost all pretense and hauled her into his arms, mouth ravaging hers for all it was worth as his lower half came to instant life. Were it not for previous arrangements, he likely would have taken her there on the ground. “What does that tell you?”

It took a second before she remembered that she didn’t need to breathe. “That you shouldn’t be throwing stones.”

“God, I love you,” he murmured ardently.

“Love you more.”

“Do not.”

“Wanna bet?”

“That’s it, woman!” He dropped her unceremoniously. “You’re goin’ down!”

“Maybe later,” she retorted with a smug grin, fighting to her feet without breaking eye contact. “In the meantime…don’t you have some thingy to be teaching me?”

“This is jus’ payback, right?”

“Oh yeah.”

He grinned. He was irrefutably whipped. Whipped with a capital W.

There were worst things to be.

The peroxide vampire eyed her hungrily. Oh yeah. Definitely worst things to be.

“Right. First of all…” Spike nodded at her seemingly empty hands, knowing well very that Buffy never went anywhere without the necessary precautions. It didn’t take years of fighting her to know that. “What’re you packin’?”

She shrugged and allowed her customary artillery—two stakes—to slide out of her sleeves and drop haphazardly to the ground. “Just the usual. Why?”

“Leave ‘em here.”

“Spike, we’re about to go into a hellmouthy forest, and—”

“—You’re a vampire,” he reminded her softly. “Lesson the first: you already got your weapon, luv. An’ this…” He melted into game face, gesturing to himself demonstratively. “Is all the weapon you’ll ever need. You got everythin’ else. The speed, the cunnin’, the strength…everythin’ to scare any worthy opponent.”

Buffy smiled. “Whatever happened to your affinity for weapons, Spike? Now you’re the one who doesn’t practice what he preaches.”

“My reasonin’ remains the same as ever. I don’ need them; I jus’ like them.” He grinned and reiterated the very same action that had sealed their introduction all those years ago, running his hand suggestively down his middle and coming to rest at the waistband of his jeans. “They make me feel all manly.” Then he was serious again. “The difference is, I’m comfy as can be without them. You’re not. You’re always needin’ to improvise. An’ yeh, as the Slayer, that’s expected. It’s what you required to survive; you din’t have a nice pair of sharp fangs at your disposal before. Well, sweetheart, you do now.” He tucked her hair behind her ear and leaned forward to nearly chastely kiss her lips. “So let’s see ‘em.”

There was a minute of consideration before Buffy complied. Spike merely grinned at her. He loved her demon persona. He reckoned he had never seen anything more beautiful.

“Lesson the second,” he continued, slightly choked. “As the Slayer, you were always taught to channel the darker part of you. To push it aside an’ bloody well ignore it because it was wrong, an’ all that rot. We’re all from the same mold, kitten. Demons an’ Slayers alike. The PTB made us what we are…an’ we’re all essentially workin’ for the same cause. For the balance. Your job as the Slayer was to make sure the balance was kept. Your job as a vampire is to disrupt that balance as much as bloody possible.” He held up a hand when he saw her begin to protest. “Now, now. I don’ expect you to go muck-havin’ an’ makin’ life for the new Chosen bird a livin’ hell. That’s not in the innate Buffy Summers wirin’, an’ we couldn’t have that, could we? The real secret is findin’ a medium between what’s good for you as a person…an’ what’ll satisfy your demon. You’ve had the wirin’ for this all along, kitten. Now you’re jus’ playin’ on the other side. Where before you were encouraged to hold back, now you gotta…let go.”

Buffy frowned. “All right…what…?”

Spike crossed his arms and regarded her sharply. “Why do vampires hunt, luv?”

The answer that came immediately to mind was one that had been beaten into her conscience from the first day of accepting her calling. It was instinctive against the cold front of mindless understanding. And while she inwardly berated herself for her lack of insight, the look on Spike’s face clearly betrayed the acceptance that he anticipated the worst form of answer. “To feed,” she answered. “To kill. To cause chaos.”

He smiled softly at her misplacement. “Yeh,” he agreed. “That’s part of it, luv. I won’ lie to you. But, despite how your Watcher might’ve liked to muck up the truth, there’s a lot more. It’s the hunt we need, you see? Doesn’ matter if we’re chasin’ a pulser or a creature of the night, which was why I took to killin’ my own kind as right naturally as I did when the Initiative prats shoved the chip into my cranium. As long as it puts in a good chase, the demon’s always satisfied with the outcome. The difference bein’ the taste. Pig’s blood can be rich as you make it to be, pet. But baggin’ it? It’s against your nature. You jus’ don’ know the difference because you’ve never really been a vampire.” He held up a hand at her predictable protest. “You’re human to your center, sweetheart. Human through an’ through. To be a vampire, you need to have tasted it. Been the full without guilt an’ the rest. An’ you haven’t. Not in the greater scheme of things. Which is why your firs’ trial is gonna be to let loose an accept what the monster inside you wants…what it always wants…”

For a minute, she swore her heart was pounding again. The look he delivered went right through her and shook her to her very core. “What’s that?”

The next few seconds were filled with remembrance. A lifetime ago, Spike had taught her how to be a Slayer. Taught her with more words and action than Giles could ever hope to. Her own pride had led her through trial and error to where she was now. Standing here with a creature she should not want—but did. Someone she should not love—but did. Someone who, against all his inner workings, should not love her back.

But did.

And now he wanted her to accept her darkness. Moreover, he wanted her to understand that there was nothing wrong with it. Slayers and vampires were all spurned from the same dust—one born of light, the other of dark. The nature was there whether she wanted it or not. Accepting nature did not make her evil. It made her simply that—herself.

She had asked for this. And she knew it meant a lot to him. It meant the world to him.

Thus she did not betray any emotion other than a slight shiver when he leaned inward and whispered against her ear, “One. Good. Day.”

Spike smiled and waited until he had her gaze once more before answering. “I want you,” he murmured, “to go hunting.”

With that, a timely squeal sounded through the air and a full-grown pig raced by them. Buffy gasped when she noted the predatory swirl in her lover’s eyes, and knew immediately what he was expecting.

She jumped back as though burned. “You want me to kill the piggy?”

“Close enough. I want you to eat the piggy.”

“Gross! No!”

“Don’ think of it as a piggy. Think of it as supper. A nummy treat.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Sorry. There is a Piggy-Factor here. I can’t eat the piggy.”

“Buffy…” He shook his head. “That’s the very same pig that was gonna be bled for our supper tonight. Forked over a few more bucks, an’ it’s here, now, instead of waitin’ to be gutted at the butcher’s. ‘S not like you weren’ gonna taste it, anyway.”

“So let it be bled!” she barked. “It’s…you want me to…with my…that’s gross, Spike.” Buffy waved her hand airily and stepped back with disgust. “Ew!”

“’S what you are,” he said softly. “You wanted this, Buffy. You wanted me to show you what you are. The demon always wants the hunt. Always. An’ yeh—pig’s blood isn’t exactly the nummiest treat on the planet, but is a whole helluva lot better to take it this way than have it bloody spoon-fed to you. Vamps weren’ made for that, an’ neither are you. They need the exhilaration. The sweat. The speed. They need to know that they’ve earned what they’re taking. Now, if you wanna back out, that’s understandable. But that doesn’ change what you are. What your demon’s always gonna want. What it needs…right now.”

Buffy sighed deeply and forced herself to meet his eyes. There was no backing out. She knew if she resigned herself once more to kidding her bloodline that she was human, things would never be the same between them. He would always love her, of course, but he wanted her to understand. He needed her to understand. Rejecting her nature would be akin to rejecting him, because it was his nature, too.

A predatory grin crossed his lips when she nodded. “Then toddle off an’ get yourself fed, Slayer. Want you at full strength. You’re about to know what fightin’ the Big Bad’s all about.”

Something icy and cold pressed against her mouth but was gone before she could reciprocate, or even realize that she had been kissed. “I love you,” he said gruffly. Then it was over. It was time. Spike had disappeared, and the challenge had begun.

Buffy vaguely registered that she was surrounded in the darkness of the forest. She blinked, waning away the instinctive sleep that overwhelmed her after eating a large meal. Behind her, the dead swine lay in motionless glory. She refused to turn around and look at it. The reality of her actions had yet to settle in, but she begrudgingly had to concede that the essence of pig had never tasted as rich before. Laced with the additive flavoring of exhilaration. She had listened to its heart slow to a stop as she fed. She had liked it. She had…

Rewind. She had liked it.

She had liked it a lot.

Can we say eww?

The rational side of her brain stepped in. Stop. You liked it; you just don’t want to admit that a certain lickable peroxide honey was right.

Hunting and killing that pig had enriched the blood to near catastrophic proportions. While Buffy had a vague recollection of the taste, it was like stepping into a marathon of déjà vu. Looking at the dead man in Dracula’s castle. A man that had been hunted by her sire. Hunted for her. And despite the horrors surrounding that night, she remembered how good he had tasted. How right it had felt despite the screaming of her human conscience. How the demon inside had rejoiced.

Spike had been right.

Again.

Damn him.

Buffy looked up sharply when a twig crunched against the earth. Her neon eyes flickered with meaningful dissent and she automatically hissed and scampered for the shrubs. A predator was nearing, and she needed to be on alert.

Predator.

The mark on her throat suddenly burned and a sharp pain attacked her gut. The incomplete claim mark that they had decided to make official when it felt right. While excruciating, she somehow managed to ignore it. It nearly seemed natural. Justified.

Something was about to happen.

Another perk to vampirism: darkness provided no object. While she had been blessed with uncanny perception as the Slayer, Buffy had discovered over the past few days that her night sight was damn near scary at how much she could pick up.

She saw him before she heard him, but that didn’t make his words any less provocative.

“Sla-yer,” the platinum intruder singsonged. “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty…”

Tantalizing reiteration. She remembered well the last time he used that line on her.

The night of their first fight. Long, long ago.

I find one of your friends first, I’m gonna suck ‘em dry. An’ use their bones to bash your head in. Are you gettin’ a word picture, here?

Predator. Vampire.

Mate.

Not yet. Not her mate yet.

Something inherent rumbled through her, and she knew all cause was lost.

It was time.

Spike stopped at the pig carcass and inhaled appreciatively. “Got your supper, then,” he drawled teasingly. “Don’ rightly know when your inhibitions became the type that don’ last too long, but I gotta say, I’m pleased, luv.” She watched him scan the terrain, using her own vampiric-mojo to remain stealthily secluded. “I know you’re there, Buffy! I can smell you. Feel you.” He emphasized the last by running a hand down his middle again. She refused to allow her eyes to follow. “Time to come out. Come out, Kitty. We’re gonna dance.”

There was a low growling in the back of her throat—subhuman but as natural as anything she had ever felt before.

Powerful.

Oh yeah.

He had brought her so far in such a small amount of time. From cowering and screaming at what she was to embracing it. She would never have envisioned herself here.

And if he wanted to dance, she would give him a dance.

Slayer and demon combined.

Spike’s eyes widened in glee when she launched herself at him, wrapping herself around him with a fierce roar. He growled back at her, his neon eyes taking in every curve of her body. They struggled for dominance for a few delightful minutes; the younger vampire’s more potent strength evidently did not merit shying away from a challenge. And in the end, it was likely more the surprise that deemed Spike the victor. Buffy gasped with realization as the world came back to her, and her demon receded once more deep within her body, leaving her at the mercy of a master vampire.

That was all it took. Spike trapped her body beneath his, gleaming at her victoriously. Then his own demon purred to satisfaction and let the man inside take over. He lowered his mouth to her lovingly, and wasted no time in lapping at the remaining pig’s blood on her face.

“See there,” he murmured huskily. “What you are hasn’t changed who you are inside. You’re jus’ this, too.”

A long mewl tore through her throat, and she thrust her pelvis into his. “Spike…”

His mouth lowered again, nibbling dotingly on her throat. “Mmmm?”

“God, Spike, please!”

His head reeled up, eyes smoldering. “Not out here.”

“Home then?”

Spike smiled. The world, at that moment, could not have known two sweeter words.

“Home,” he agreed heatedly.

Tonight, then. It would happen tonight.

It was time.

The look in Angel’s eyes brought an ocean of unwanted memories awash, fresh and achingly painful. It surprised him more for the fact that, as Angelus, there had never been vacant rage burning his motive. There had never been anything other than the will to hurt others. Cruelty yes, but not anger. It wasn’t anger that had buried Jenny Calendar; it was vampiric nature in itself. Anger was a useless alibi, and no one understood that more than Giles.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t call me first,” the vampire snarled, storming past him angrily. “How stupid could you be?”

Giles rolled his eyes. “Please, come in.”

Behind Angel came an unfamiliar man with a tough street-face that looked supremely out of place in Sunnydale. He gave the Watcher a long, unimpressed look, then threw his bag onto the floor next to the sofa. “Nice digs,” he said appraisingly. “We hookin’ it up upstairs?”

“Angel…”

The vampire whirled around. “This is Gunn. He’s a friend of mine.”

“That’s all well and good. What’s he doing here?”

“Spike’s mine. I can handle him.” Angel paused. “But if what you said was true, we might have a problem with Buffy.”

“So you’ve brought a friend of yours to distract her?”

“He’s a vampire hunter. He has experience.”

Giles’s eyes widened. “You’re sending a vampire hunter after Buffy? Have you completely lost your mind?”

Riley emerged from around the corner, wiping his hands on a dishrag. “That would imply he had one to lose in the first place.”

Angel rolled his eyes. “What’s Captain America doing here?”

“You really think I was going to let you go after my girlfriend without me?” Finn retorted heatedly, beating the Watcher to the punch.

“Well, it’s obvious she’s not getting any satisfaction from you if she’s shacking up with Spike.” Angel stepped forward. “If she’s so in love with you, why on earth would she turn to her enemy in her hour of need?”

“Maybe because he’s the one vampire that hasn’t left her.”

Giles threw himself between them before Angel could lunge. “Riley has a right to go,” he said. “You two are simply going to have to put your differences aside and think for Buffy’s welfare.” He eyed Gunn warily. “Which is why I think those who don’t know her should be excluded from this.”

“First of all, she’s a sired Slayer. I kinda think she could take him. Second of all, no, the last thing I want him to do is go after her.” Angel shook his head. “We don’t know what to expect. It’s always better to have reinforcements.”

“Well, I’m sorry if I’m not too keen about sending a vampire hunter that I just met after my recently-sired Slayer. How in the world do I know I can trust him?”

Gunn’s brows arched. “You said the girl has a soul, right? I haven’t had too many problems with Angel yet; that don’t mean I wouldn’t stake his ass if he started nailing puppies to walls. I’m just the muscle, Rupes. And I damn well made Angel bring me ‘cause we don’t need no pile of dust signing our paychecks.”

“I’m sure a pile of dust would have more personality,” Riley grumbled.

“And Boy Wonder is one to talk,” Angel retorted.

Giles and Gunn exchanged a long look.

“Okay,” the latter said the next second, “now I’m going just to make sure you two don’t kill each other.”

The Watcher heaved a sigh. “Your prerogative is to ascertain Buffy’s welfare. If she…if it turns out that she is fine and not under some vampiric thrall…” He frowned. “Can vampires put other vampires under a thrall?”

“The weak-minded,” Angel replied, shooting Riley a pointed look. “But Buffy isn’t under a thrall.”

“How do you know?”

“Well, for one, I think we can all agree that Buffy’s not weak-minded. Second…” He paused. “Spike doesn’t use thrall. He never has.”

Giles’s frown deepened. “Are you telling me that in all his years with Drusilla, he never once attempted to master her powers?”

“He had no use for them. I’m telling you, thrall isn’t a part of this. Buffy likely went to Spike because she didn’t know what to do about the hunger. She might…” He broke off, a strange emotion entering his eyes. “If anything…if she is…involved, as you seem to think…it might be some take on the Stockholm Syndrome…or something. She might be mistaking gratitude or…”

“Regardless, if she wants to be there…if you get there and…” Giles drew in a breath. “The last thing I would ever want for Buffy right now is to take away anything that makes what she has become less tolerable. I merely hope that if we reintroduce aspects of her former life, she might realize what she is doing.”

There was a long silence.

“And if she doesn’t?” Angel asked softly.

“Then leave her be.”

“With Spike?” The duo of scorned lovers balked in horror.

“If that is where she wants to be, then no one here has any right to try to tell her whom she can or cannot…” He gestured inarticulately. “If her feelings for Spike are…beyond gratitude and the…carnal…if she truly went to him because she felt he was…she’s her own person. I can’t—I won’t—approve, but she is perfectly capable of making her own decisions.”

“Even if—”

The Watcher leveled his eyes. “Yes. Even if she wants to stay with Spike, I will not abide anyone trying to interfere with…what she wants right now. And in order to ensure that my words of…caution are received in the nature intended, I’ve had Willow and Tara place a sanctuary spell on the crypt.”

Riley’s eyes widened. “From here? How’s that possible?”

“They are two very resourceful witches,” Giles retorted dryly. “If you wish to test my warning, go ahead…but I have it on good authority that the results would not be beneficial should either of you…” He tossed dual glances to Gunn and Riley. “…ever wish to procreate.” He turned to Angel. “And you…well, suffice to say, it should ensure that you will never again be in danger of losing your soul because of a moment of happiness.”

The three men looked at the Watcher for a long minute as though he was Satan incarnate.

“All this to protect Spike?” Riley demanded.

“No. To protect Buffy. If Buffy is with Spike against her wishes, or because she’s disillusioned and confused, I’m sure she will deal with him later…on her own terms.” Giles paused. “Regardless, Spike has taken care of Buffy faithfully for the past several days…I’m not happy with the way he has gone about it, by any means, but similarly, I am not about to go against Buffy’s wishes. She has been through enough, and I think that’s something that everyone can agree on.” He met Angel’s eyes and held. “I called you because if anyone can reach her…should this situation be a charade on Spike’s part…it would be you.”

Riley tried and failed to hide the flicker of hurt that flashed across his face.

Giles ignored him promptly and turned to Gunn. “I know your loyalties lie with Angel, but as the only one here who hasn’t met or had a…relationship with Buffy…I am trusting you to serve as the voice of reason when it’s otherwise astray.”

“I don’t wanna be a eunuch, so I think we have an agreement.”

“Good.” He nodded. “Make it so.”

The crypt was alight with decoration she had only envisioned in her sappier fantasies. While the past few days had taught her that Spike had, among other things, a bizarre affinity for candles, she had never imagined that he would go to such extremes to unwittingly bring one of her favored teenage daydreams to life.

There were candles everywhere of all shapes and sizes. The ground was scattered with white and red rose petals. She felt like she had stepped into a storybook.

“Oh my God.”

She felt Spike smiling behind her and shivered at his touch as he ran a hand down her arm. Her entire body was alert to his presence, drawn to him; such that even the air separating them became intolerable within easy minutes. “Do you like it?” he asked, nuzzling her hair.

“I can’t believe…when did you do this?”

“While you were catchin’ yourself supper.” His lips brushed against her throat, his arms wrapping around her middle. “Wanted it to be perfect for you…tonight.”

“Oh God.”

“You’re not havin’ second thoughts, are you?” He paused. “’Bout the claim?”

“No. No! Of course not. I just can’t…” She twisted in his embrace, her arms going around his neck. “You went to all this trouble for me? It wasn’t…Spike, I didn’t expect you to…you didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to. You don’ like it?”

“I love it.”

He smiled, brushing a tender kiss across her lips. “Then it was worth it.” His mouth began a seductive path down her throat. “I jus’…this is important to me, Buffy. It’s somethin’…’s somethin’ sacred. Not many vamps…” He bristled and tore himself away from her tempting flesh, his eyes falling to the ground. “An’ now you must think I’m—”

“Adorable? Sweet?” Her brows perked with interest. “So gonna get laid?”

Spike smirked at that, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “This is more to me than that, sweetling.”

Her eyes fell serious and she cupped his face, kissing his lips gently. “It’s more to me, too.”

“An’ you’re sure?” Spike released a deep breath. “I jus’…you’re ready to do this tonight? We can—”

Buffy’s gaze flickered. “How many times am I going to have to reassure you that I want this?”

“Oi! I had to reassure you this afternoon.”

“Yes, and after that little lecture you gave me, I believed you.”

A small smile crossed his lips. “I jus’…I never thought I’d be here,” he said. “Never thought you’d…you could really want…it’s a li’l beyond me, luv. You’ve given me so bloody much.”

“Not more than you’ve given me.”

“I beg to differ.”

A soft sigh hummed through her throat. “I love you.”

Spike shook his head, kissing her again. “Still can’t believe that, either.”

“Believe it.”

His grin broadened, his mouth dropping once more to her throat. “Don’ know if I’ve told you this…don’ know how to say it without soundin’ condescending or bloody ridiculous…” Wandering hands tugged at her blouse, and a rush of cool air collided with her skin as he flung the offending garment to the ground. “But what you’ve done…not for me, but…you’ve come so bloody far. In everythin’.”

“You’re the reason.”

Spike shook his head, cupping her breasts reverently and exciting her nipples through the lace concealing her from him. “There’s only so many times you can say that,” he replied, skimming the column of her throat with his teeth as his fingers snapped her bra open. “Not that I don’ like the idea of bein’ your savior, mind you. But baby—”

“I’m gonna stop listening to you, because you’re being silly.”

He chuckled against her, manipulating her nipples masterfully. “Yeh,” he murmured. “That’s how civilized people end a conversation.”

“Since when are we civilized?” Her hands were tearing at his belt. “Are we gonna try for downstairs?”

“Thought we’d make it there…eventually.”

She grinned.

“But seriously…what you’ve done…the things you’ve done…in jus’ a few days…” He abandoned his quest of her throat, working down her body. “’m so…” His mouth got distracted then, tonguing her through the fabric of her panties. “Honestly, luv, what have I told you ‘bout wearin’ these?”

“Oh God…”

“Uh huh. That’s what you get.”

“Get up here.”

Her panties were gone the next second, his tongue lapping at her juices. “Make me,” he murmured, drawing her clit into his mouth.

“Oh…”

“Mmm. ‘S what I thought.”

Buffy drew in a shuddering breath and seized his wrists, drawing him up even as her body screamed in protest. “Made you,” she gasped.

“Party pooper.”

“Want you.”

“I was givin’ you—”

“Inside me.”

“Fuck, Buffy.”

She nodded, diving a hand into his jeans and drawing his erection into her eager touch. “Yes, yes,” she agreed. “That’s the idea.”

He whimpered in protest. “Bleedin’ hell…”

“And for the record…you did bring me this far.” She smirked. “Just wanted to get the last word in.”

“Did not,” he gasped, thrusting into her hand.

“Did too.”

“Li’l liar…”

“You taught me…” She ran her thumb teasingly over the tender head of his length. “…the three things.”

“Three…uhhh…”

Another gasp tore through her body as he plunged two fingers into her pussy. “The three things?” Her touch abandoned his cock, earning a long moan, instead sliding under the hem of his t-shirt, nails exploring his chest delicately. “Blood.” She tossed his top to the floor, somewhere near hers, and nipping at the flesh she uncovered.

He hummed in agreement, his own thumb settling over her clit. “Blood.”

Buffy shuddered a long sigh, but wrapped her hand around his wrist, drawing his touch out of her body. “Blood,” she repeated, sucking his index finger into her mouth, and his gaze devoured her with lust.

Then she shot a hand to his throat, her eyes registering the surprised widening of his own only a second before she threw him. Then he was flying through the air, landing rather brusquely on the sofa in front of the television before a word of objection could tumble through his lips.

“Bleedin’ fuck,” Spike gasped.

“Violence,” she noted, her eyes dropping to his cock. Her roughness had only strengthened his arousal.

She had to get him out of those jeans.

Spike must have read the look, for they were nonexistent the next minute. She grinned savagely and leapt in his course, landing squarely on his lap. His eyes flickered with shades of the hidden demon, excitement barely contained. He looked seconds away from losing control.

“An’ sex,” he growled, positioning himself at her opening.

Buffy’s hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin, a low rumble scratching at her throat. “And sex,” she agreed, attacking his mouth with hers.

She sank down, nestling his cock within her, and words lost all meaning.

He felt a shudder race through her body, and knew that she knew. Knew that their scent had pierced through the haze surrounding their lovemaking, and that she knew that their paradise had been invaded. Her fangs were still fastened in his throat, her grip on him becoming nearly unbearable, but he would sooner dive into holy water than ask her to vanquish her hold.

Angel. That righteous ponce. Were it not for Buffy between them, Spike figured one of them would already be dust.

How the hell had he found out?

The silent standstill lasted seconds that felt like hours, but broke accordingly as all things did. When the hush subsided and Riley stepped forward, rage written in six different languages on his face, a low roar erupted from the platinum vampire’s throat. It was over then. Buffy’s fangs slid from his skin and she growled in kind, though the sound that exploded from her lips was more a wail of despair than warning, and it tore at his heart. She scampered from his lap at that, wedging herself between his back and the sofa so that Spike’s body guarded her from the humans that had barraged into her sanctuary. Her arms went around his chest, her breasts flattened against his back, and just like that, he knew.

He had taught her violence tonight. An appreciation for everything vampires relished in, particularly in the kill. She was closer to it than she had ever been now.

And humans were suddenly in her wake.

“Get out,” Spike snarled. His mind was clouded with fury and a deep instinctive need to protect his mate. A mate in faith and words only, if not in blood. He didn’t understand it, but similarly knew better than to question his intuition. A bond forged of nothing else, but potent all the same.

“No,” Riley spat. “I don’t think I’ll be doing that.”

His fangs descended and his eyes blazed yellow, a terrible roar echoing through the crypt. “Bloody selfish bastard! She can’t be around people right now!” He leapt to his feet, demon sinking inward with a mournful whimper when her touch slid from his body. There was no way, though, that he would leave her unclothed in front of intruders in his home. Fuck if two of them already knew what she looked like, it didn’t matter a damn to him. “She’s a vampire. You can’t come into a vampire’s home an’ expect—”

“I’m sorry, her home?” Riley’s eyes blazed. “Who the fuck decided this was her home?”

“She’ll come to you when she’s ready!”

“Yeah, looks like you’ve gone to great measures to make sure she’s ready.”

Spike snarled again, leaning forward and gathering his t-shirt from the floor. “Jus’ given her what you couldn’t, mate.”

Riley’s gaze flooded with rage and he stormed forward again. But before he could get a word in, Buffy’s voice tore through the air with a calamitous plea. Spike turned to her immediately, abandoning his outrage for a beat to return to her side, sliding his t-shirt over her bare skin. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

Furthermore, the fact that he had dressed her in his clothing sent a clear message.

Buffy wasn’t going anywhere.

When he turned around, Angel was holding his jeans, his expression stoic.

“Thanks, mate.”

The elder vampire made no move to reply. Instead, without drawing his eyes away from his grandchilde, he said, “Gunn, please escort Riley outside.”

“No way,” the soldier snapped icily. “I’m staying right here.”

“No,” Angel retorted. “You’re really not.”

“I don’t see where you have the authority to—”

Angel nodded to Spike. “You heard what he said. Buffy can’t be around people. Last time I checked, that counted you.” He turned fully at that, his eyes void of negotiation. “Now get out.”

“Yeah. This works out nicely for you, huh?”

Gunn stepped forward at that, holding up a neutral hand. “Okay, okay. Since we’re standing in a graveyard with three vampires, one of which has no control of her fangs, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that moving our non-undead asses outside is a good idea.”

Buffy nodded erratically. “Please.”

There was a beat of nothing at all. Spike buttoned his jeans and returned to his lover’s side, where she promptly tugged him down to the sofa once more and wrapped her arms around his middle. And perhaps it was that visual that convinced Riley to leave. His former girlfriend clinging to the vampire he loathed above all others of his kind. Buffy asking him to leave her alone.

Buffy asking him to leave her.

“Fine.” Riley released a deep breath and shook his head, meeting her eyes. “Fine. Goodbye, Buffy.”

And that was that. There was no doubt in Spike’s mind that the sight of the soldier’s retreating backside would be the last any of them ever saw of Riley Finn.

Good bloody riddance.

Once they were alone, Angel’s random bout of compassion vanished. He turned to Spike, his eyes dark and severe, without any sign of understanding. “Get up,” he all but growled, indicating to the protective stance his next-of-kin had taken in front of the sired Slayer. “Now.”

Buffy’s arms tightened around him, and he laced his fingers with her over his middle.

“No.”

“I don’t know what you’ve done to her, but I’m not buying it.”

“Well, you ungrateful sod, that would be your problem, wouldn’t it?”

Angel’s gaze darkened even more. He held Spike’s eyes for a long minute before averting his attention to the Slayer behind him. At that, his features softened. “Buffy,” he said gently. “Buffy, it’s me.”

Oh how bloody typical.

“She knows who you are.”

“I’d like to hear it from her, if you don’t mind.” The elder vampire turned back to the Slayer. “Buffy…I don’t know what he’s done to you…told you…but your friends are worried sick. You have people who love you.” His eyes flickered disdainfully to the fuming face of his grandchilde. “People that will accept you no matter what…despite what he’s told you.”

Spike roared and leapt forward at that, his demon overpowering his senses. “You fucking bastard,” he snarled. “I haven’t done anythin’ to her!”

Then something went wrong. Something happened. Her voice reached the air, broken and disheveled, and he felt the world around him collapse.

“Yes you have,” Buffy said softly.

Something inside him screamed out in anguished fury.

No. God, no. This couldn’t happen.

Spike whirled back to her, his eyes shining. No. Just because Angel…

Angel, Angel, Angel. Always sodding Angel.

“Buffy,” he gasped, shaking his head furiously. “No. God, please, no.” Before he could stop himself, his legs carried him to her, kneeling at her side. “Please. God, I love you so much. Don’t do this to me, now. I love you.”

She cupped his face and smiled. “I know.”

Oh God.

“Buffy—”

“I love you, too,” she whispered, brushing a tender kiss across his lips, and he dissolved into her. His arms came around her, his mouth devouring hers in a trembling wave of unyielding relief.

For a few seconds, Angel ceased to exist.

“Jesus, don’ do that to me.”

“I didn’t mean to.” She shook her head, smiling against his lips. “I didn’t…it’s just…you did do something to me, sweetie. Haven’t I been saying this all along?”

Angel shifted behind them. “Buffy?”

The Slayer shook her head and wiped at her eyes. “I’m sorry I scared you,” she whispered to Spike, not reacting to the other vampire at all. “I just…I was going to…”

“Yeh.” He smiled and kissed her forehead. “I jus’ tend to overreact at times.”

“Ahem.”

Spike rolled his eyes and rose to his feet, pivoting violently to his grandsire. “You heard her,” he spat. “She loves me.”

“I also heard her say that you’ve done something to her.”

“He’s done more than that,” Buffy agreed. “He’s been unbelievable.” She rose to her feet slowly, mindful of her unclothed lower half, but unembarrassed. “Spike gave me something no one else could have…like this. I’m…I went to him because I knew that…he would take care of me.”

“And I wouldn’t?” Angel retorted, hurt. “I would’ve done…anything.” He released a shuddering sigh. “And Giles. And your mother? We would have done anything to help you. Anything.”

“No.”

“Buffy—”

“There is no way you can convince me that you or Giles or my mom or my friends would have begun to do for me what Spike has done.” She shook her head, tears spilling forward. “You guys…all of you…with as much as I love my friends and Giles and Mom…you put me on this pedestal where I’m supposed to be perfect and never…Spike doesn’t do that. Not the way you guys do. And he’s taken more…he took care of me. I was in a daze and he brought me out. It’s been a week, Angel. A week. How can you tell me that I would have been okay after a week if I was anywhere else?”

“How do you know that you wouldn’t be?”

“I do.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

Buffy’s eyes darkened. “Then I’m ridiculous.”

“How can you call yourself ‘okay?’” he demanded. “Everything…Buffy, you were sired. Dracula took everything away from you. He turned you into what you hate. What sick, twisted thing has Spike told you that made you think that could ever be okay?”

“You bloody bastard,” the peroxide vampire snarled.

“Stop it!” the Slayer shouted, hands flying up. “Yes, I was sired. Yes. It could’ve killed me. I drank from a dead man, and it nearly killed me. I couldn’t move without it hurting. I couldn’t do anything. Spike saved me from staking myself. He helped me find peace. He helped me…I’m violent. I need blood. I need…sex.” She glanced down and blushed slightly. “I need the things that all vampires need. But I’m still me…just wiser than before. I’m not the girl you knew.”

“And that’s how you’ve justified this to yourself?”

“That’s bloody priceless,” the platinum vampire barked. “You din’t see her after it happened. You weren’t here. You’re only here when it’s convenient for you, right? When you learn that ole Spike is takin’ care of the girl you jus’ din’t love enough. Given her everythin’ you were too good to give her.”

“I would never have done to her what you’ve done.”

“Yeh. You’re right. I love the girl too much. I mollycoddled her a bit, yeh, but I din’t shield her from the big bad world like you bloody well would have.” He shook his head with a long, shrill laugh. “You don’ know how she was. What I saved her from.”

“So he finally admits it,” Buffy muttered.

“You saved her?” Angel snickered incredulously. “You call keeping her in a hole in the ground with a soulless creature something worthy of what Buffy deserves? She has a soul, you idiot. She’s not like you. She can never be like you.”

The Slayer’s eyes darkened. “She’s also standing right here.”

“Buffy—”

“No, shut up. You have no idea what happened to me. What I’ve been through.”

The elder vampire blinked. “Have we entered the Twilight Zone, here?”

“No, your ego’s always been this rich,” Spike spat.

“I killed my sire,” Buffy responded calmly. The telling wince of pain that had haunted her throughout the week was now nonexistent. “And I was in pain. And I went to Spike because he wasn’t you. Because he wouldn’t be…he was the only one I could turn to. I still haven’t been able to go around people without nearly losing control. I—”

“I killed my sire, too, Buffy. I killed her for you.”

“I know.”

“And that means nothing?”

“It meant something once.” She shook her head. “This has nothing to do with the fact that we have souls and dead sires in common. You wouldn’t have given me what Spike did.”

“So you’re grateful. There’s nothing wrong with that. But don’t mistake gratitude for love. This is Spike we’re talking about. Spike doesn’t have a soul. He’s a monster.”

“I love him.”

“You can’t.”

Spike snickered and shook his head. “I’m not sayin’ it makes sense to me either, mate. But she loves me, an’ I love her. An’ you’re not wanted here.”

“I’m not leaving without Buffy.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Buffy—”

“I’m home. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Buffy, I—”

That was when it happened. Angel made the mistake of stepping forward. Of taking a step too far. Of trying to get closer to her than anyone else had attempted. The only one allowed near her right now was Spike, and the elder vampire obviously wasn’t going to accept that.

It was a quick decision. Her fangs burst through her gums and she jerked the platinum vampire to her, and sank her teeth into his throat. Spike moaned aloud, his hands going to her shoulders, holding her to him as she suckled at his blood. As she drew his essence into her.

As she pulled back, Buffy lapped at the wound she had opened, and murmured, “Mine.”

It was a strange, wondrous sensation. As though at that second, the fabric holding the universe together suddenly fit, and there were no more questions. There was no more doubt. There was nothing but this phenomenal sentiment of belonging. Her blood rejoiced, her body hummed in pleasure, and she was complete. One little word brought her the magnitude of the cosmos. All hints of pain residing within her body vanished. The wail of her demon cooed into a gentle purr, and the agony she had suffered, the same she had begun to ignore over the past couple days, suddenly ceased to exist.

She felt rather than heard Spike’s moan of surrender. His hands were on her, and she was against him. He began peppering kisses across her face. She tasted tears, but didn’t know who owned them. They were one. In that instant, they were one.

Then he sighed, “Yours,” into her hair, and the fabric of her subsistence fastened together and held. She had just claimed him, and he had accepted. Spike was hers. He was all around her. Pressing kisses against her skin. She felt thoroughly enveloped in him. Felt his blood rush through her, melding into her own.

And pleasure burst through her. His fangs were in her throat, his arms holding her to him, and heat spread through her veins. It was unlike anything she had ever felt. Any level of ecstasy she had ever experienced. A shrill gasp touched the air as her body exploded in rapture, and his tongue traced the bite mark he had given her, holding her to him in her fall.

All this before the word was even whispered.

“Mine.”

“Ohhhh…yours.”

She was too foregone to notice they were alone. Too lost in his arms to hear the defiant slam of the front door crack through the air. There was only Spike, and the birth of this sacred union between them. Linked to him now in a bond that flooded her being with strength and love. Satisfied her demon and made the rest of her burst into exultation.

“Spike…”

“Mine,” he growled again. “God, Buffy…”

“Yours.”

Tears stung her eyes. She had spent so much time over the past few days crying. Crying for loss, crying for life, crying for death, crying for everything that had been taken away. Crying for the existence Spike had resurrected within her.

She was home now. In his arms. His blood in her blood, tied together by forces beyond imagination. Tied with words of promise, but held with love.

One little word. Even when he had told her, she had never imagined it possible.

It didn’t matter now. Nothing did. They could conquer nations if they wanted.

Spike had not only given her new life; he had given her all of himself.

And if she lived a thousand millennia, she could never make it up to him.

Gunn stumbled into Giles’s duplex just seconds after Angel slammed the door shut, walking into a heated trade between the old Watcher and his employer. The vampire had stormed out of Spike’s crypt much too fast for any normal human to successfully follow, and while Gunn prided himself on his strength and agility, there was no way to keep up with his boss when he was running on pure fury.

“I told you to leave her alone if she—”

“She’s clearly not in her right mind! She claimed Spike! Do you have any idea what that means?”

“No, Angel, I’m only one of the top human experts on vampires and vampiric ceremonies on the west coast. Please explain a ritual claiming, preferably slowly and with small words.”

The vampire’s gaze raged yellow. “How can you be so calm about this?”

“Ummm.” Gunn raised his hand. “Is this the reason you moved to LA? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you have more than three facial expressions…ever.”

Giles grinned wryly. “One of many reasons,” he retorted without tearing his eyes away from the tall brooding sulk. “I told you to leave Buffy alone if she was with Spike because she wanted to be. You were to go over there, gauge the situation, and only return with Buffy if that was what she wanted.”

“Why isn’t he all…eunuch Angel?” Gunn frowned disdainfully. “Did you just throw in that bit about castration to keep us in line? ‘Cause man, threatenin’ a bro’s package ain’t cool.”

“No,” the Watcher replied. “That much was very legitimate. My only guess is that Angel never got close enough to attempt a bodily removal of Buffy from Spike’s crypt. Is that right?”

“I never touched her.”

“Yes, I suspected as much.” Giles heaved out a sigh. “Very well. You have done what I asked. Thank you.” A pause. “Now leave.”

There was a long, silent beat.

“Leave?”

“This is what a civilized person typically does at the end of a transaction.”

“You really think I’m going to leave while Buffy is mated to Spike?”

Giles’s eyes darkened. “From where I’m standing, you don’t have much of a choice. This was her decision, and quite frankly, if your current behavior exhibits the match she could have had for eternity, I say all the better for her.”

“How can you approve of this?”

“I never said I approved. But, from where I am standing, it is not my choice to make. Obviously, Buffy’s feelings for Spike have changed radically over the past few days. None of us can or should know what happened between them, but if she feels this strongly for someone, I believe you know as well as I do that there is nothing anyone can do to sway her.” A pause. “Especially now, since she has decided to seal her lifeline with his for the rest of time.”

“If I challenge Spike’s claim—”

“No. You will not be doing that. I’ll have Willow whip up a new spell that will ensure you will not bother Buffy or Spike again.”

Gunn drew in a breath. “As in ‘dust-to-dust’ right? I didn’t miss that, did I?”

“No. You did not miss a thing.”

Angel stared at him, his eyes cold and dead. “You don’t know Spike like I do,” he replied. “You can’t begin to know what she has gotten herself into. He’s soulless, she’s not. He is not restricted by moral absolutes. He thinks he’s in love with her, sure. But love affects Spike…he’s at his most dangerous when he’s in love.”

Giles was unmoved. “Then I’m going to count my blessings that it’s the Slayer that won his heart and not a deranged vampire that you made after destroying her family. Perhaps with someone who does hold moral absolutes as his mate, this dangerous shadow in Spike that, quite frankly, has never truly shown face, will dwindle altogether.”

“Never truly shown face?”

“Not in the way you led us to believe when he first barreled into Sunnydale, no.”

“He’s a monster.”

“Yes. And yet, I don’t recall hating him quite as richly as I hate Angelus.” The Watcher’s eyes flickered dangerously, and he stepped forward. “Now get the hell out of my house.”

The look on Gunn’s face had gone slack with both astonishment and distant shades of a man truly impressed. He released a deep breath and stepped forward, placing a hand on Angel’s shoulder. “Come on, man,” he said. “We’re done here.”

“I’m not.”

Giles stepped forward again, his gaze not wavering. “Oh yes,” he said. “You are.”

That was it. No more discussion. No more debate.

There were so many unanswered questions. Things that troubled the Watcher to no end, but similarly, things he recognized he was too far on the outside to understand. Why his Slayer would have chosen Spike to share eternity with, he had no idea. Only that it had to be something extremely potent. Extremely powerful. And something beyond his comprehension. Something so compelling that no one, no matter how close they were to Buffy, would ever fully grasp.

It didn’t matter. He had his answers.

Everything else would come slowly.

And he would simply have to wait until she was ready to come home.

There had never been a feeling like this.

The air crackled. She was aware of every move he made. Aware of every breath that shuddered through him. Aware of the tension wracking his being, the adoration pouring through every cell. From before where it had all been words and the feeling burning her own insides, to now where every tremor through her body vibrated with the wealth of his love for her.

Ever since she came to him, he had shaken her with the intensity of his eyes. How he regarded her with such tender reverence. How he made her feel like royalty. Like she had fallen from reality into Heaven, and there had never been anything like this.

She was sitting at the edge of the mattress, Spike kneeling before her, running his hands up and down her bare thighs.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He buried his face between her breasts and shuddered. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Wanted to do to the claim here. Wanted to be inside you when it happened.” He rested against her for a minute, then raised his head and pressed a kiss to the proud mark on her throat. “Wanted to…”

“It was perfect,” she replied, cupping his face gently. “It couldn’t have been more perfect.”

He smiled gently. “We’re not gonna have a lot of time,” he said. “Angel’s gonna be back with an army once he tells Giles what you did upstairs.”

“Screw ‘em.”

A chuckle clamored through his throat. “See, the only person I wanna screw is right here.”

“Pig.”

“I’m a pig, huh?” He chuckled again, and she gasped at how good the vibrations felt against her. “Don’ you eat pigs?”

She smirked and urged him away from her, smiling candidly at the frown that crossed his face. “Well, I ate one earlier tonight,” she replied, popping the button of his jeans and lowering the zipper. His cock sprang into her grasp, her other hand tugging his trousers down his legs. A long whimper tore through his throat as she lapped at his length, suckling at his head delicately. “It was good, but I think I like this one a little more.”

Spike laced his fingers through her hair. “Jus’…a li’l more?”

“Mmm…” Her tongue took to the underside of his erection, her hand dropping to cup his sack tenderly. “Maybe a lot more.”

It was amazing. Before, their lovemaking had been revolutionary. Beyond anything she had ever felt. Beyond anything she had thought herself capable of feeling. Everything was different, now, and it broke through the boundaries of sensationalism. Every shudder that rushed through his body built her own arousal. Every pleasured nerve that her talented tongue uncovered sent shivers of rapture quivering through her blood. She felt his building euphoria as though it was her own, and it was unlike anything in the world.

“Oh bleedin’ fuck,” Spike gasped, throwing his head back. “Such a pretty, hot li’l mouth. God, Buffy.”

Pressure was building. Her insides were on fire; every stroke against his cock echoed against her clit. She needed him to touch her. Needed to feel hands that weren’t invisible caressing her. And yet, the sweet torture of suckling at his erection and swimming in pleasure through what she gave him was too good to forfeit.

Her teeth slid over his belled head, and dueled gasps ripped through their mouths. Her stomach tightened and she flushed with alien warmth, tiny pinpricks of ecstasy numbing her skin. Buffy threw her head back, her eyes flashing, her hand pumping him speedily in the absence of her mouth. “Oh God!” she cried, unable to restrain herself another beat. “I need you.”

Spike shot her a heated, smoldering look. “’m here,” he assured her, coaxing her away, shuddering when her touch left his body completely. “Scootch back, sweetling.”

“Spike…”

His mouth dropped to her throat, and he lapped attentively at the claim mark he had engraved there. “Always here.”

“Ohhh…I need…”

“I know.” He dipped a hand between her thighs, and she sank her nails into his shoulders as his thumb settled over her clit. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

“Uhhhh…”

“God.” His eyes studied his hand’s ministrations for a few seconds before flickering to her face. He was breathing harshly, gaze overwhelmed with lust that went beyond anything she had ever seen, or shared. “God, I feel…oh my God.”

Buffy nodded urgently with a strangled mewl.

“Oh God.” Spike sank his blunt teeth into the claim mark, eliciting a long moan before he took chart down her body. “I gotta taste you.”

“Uhhh…”

“You’re driving me crazy.” He whipped the t-shirt over her head, mouth latching onto one of her breasts with a hum of approval. “Your scent. Your taste…your…fuck, I love you so much.”

“Love you.”

He released her nipple with a wet plop, abandoning her breasts with some difficulty to kiss a teasing trail down her belly until his face was buried in her pussy. His thumb continued its slow, achingly sweet caresses to her sensitive bundle of nerves, his tongue plunging inside her without formalities. A pleasured cry ripped past her lips and her head whipped back, her legs sliding over his shoulders.

“You taste so bleeding good.”

“Oh God.”

“Christ…” His tongue drew a long line up her slit. “I feel everythin’.”

She nodded unintelligibly, drawing him closer. “Uh huh.”

“Every li’l…thing.” Spike burned her with his eyes, nibbling lightly on her folds. “’S unlike anythin’ I’ve ever felt before.”

“Oohhh…” She arched into him with another long moan, her hands twisting the bedsheets as unbridled bliss tore through her body. “Spike…I…oh…oh my God. I need…”

He withdrew his mouth from her tight channel, replacing his tongue with his fingers. “You’re so hot,” he murmured. “My tight, hot li’l Slayer.” He suckled her clit between his lips, drowning in her juices. In her taste. In every little gasp that rushed through her body. “My gorgeous mate.”

She caught his eyes, drawing him in heatedly. “Mate,” she growled in agreement.

“Want to feel you come.” His teeth scraped over her clit lightly. “Come for me, baby.”

“Spike…”

His thrusting fingers were touching parts of her that only he had explored, secret places within her to which only he held the key. And every time he revisited her, the wealth of sensations collided with each other to the point where she didn’t think she could take it.

And then it happened. She touched the sky and fell back again, a hoarse scream bursting past her lips. She felt Spike growl into her in turn, felt the shudders quaking through his body as they shared the power of her orgasm. Drowning in euphoria that was almost too wonderful to bear. As though she was going to explode with feeling when it became too much. And he was there, holding her in her fall, resting his cheek against her hip bone and purring with contentment.

There had never been anything like this. And it was only the first day.

The first day of forever.

“I love you so much,” Spike whispered softly.

“I love you, too.” She smiled and cupped his cheek, urging him back up her body. He was hard again, his cock nudging her moist folds tenderly. “Spike…”

“Shhh.”

He slipped within her without another word, and buried his face in her throat at the feel of their union. Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck and tossed her head back, her eyes falling shut as he began to move within her. And the plateaus she had thought to have just reached were blown away. Her entire body set aside on a windstorm of discovery. There was nothing like it; absolutely nothing. Pleasure soared through her body; like she was a beginner taking her first attempt at a master’s course, and was too overwhelmed to keep up. The slow slip and slide of his flesh from hers, the burning heat between her thighs, his fingers tweaking her nipples, his mouth worshipping her throat…it was sensory overload, and she was tumbling too fast without anything to hold.

And it was unbelievable.

“Oh my God.”

“Mmmm,” he hummed against her in agreement, thrusts slow and controlled, though there was a burning behind his eyes that she was beginning to recognize as his control slipping away. Unlike when he fought or sought blood, his sexual control had a completely different look. Like he wanted to pound her into the mattress, but needed to continue this sweet torment. “Like satin.”

“Oh.”

He smiled against her lips. “Like satin wrapped in sunlight. You’re so bloody warm.” His mouth danced over hers, tongue dancing with hers, the taste of her mingling with the taste of him until they simply tasted like each other. “You feel like…you feel so fucking good.”

Buffy smiled cheekily. “You’ve told me.”

“Won’t ever stop tellin’ you.” He shuddered a sigh, cock sliding rhythmically in and out of her passage. He was saturated in her juices, swimming in her scent, and burning with the addictive taste of her kisses. “Not like this before,” he gasped. “Not before. Not even with you. ‘S new, baby…this is all new.”

“Yeah.”

“So good.”

“You too.” Her nails dug further into his skin, and then the scent of blood tainted the air, coinciding with a sharp gasp, and his thrusts made the sudden jump from slow and luxurious to speedy and needful. “Oh God!”

“God, what you do to me.” Spike’s mouth returned to her throat, a hand slipping between them. His balls slapped noisily against her with every parry, the guttural sounds rumbling through his lips matched only for the animalesque sounds erupting from her scrumptious body. His fingers found her clit with ease and began a speedy massage, his body tingling with every gasp of pleasure that touched the air. Every vibration of euphoria that soared through her skin soared through his as well, and it was wonderful.

“Spike!”

“I love you.” His fangs burst through his gums, and the sensations surrounding him grew even more potent, if it was possible. “I love you so much.”

“I love you.” Her eyes flashed. “Bite me.”

“I’d be delighted.”

The tease registered, but she ignored it. She was too foregone in feeling to care about anything else. “Show me…what you wanted.”

Spike’s eyes widened and it was over. His fangs slid into the milky flesh at her throat, over the claim mark that tied them together for eternity, and she exploded around him. Sheer bliss tore through her, and she was left to a white feeling of utter clarity. It was all around her. Her mate thrusting into her, her blood pouring into his mouth, and this was it. This was where she belonged. This was where she had always belonged.

And she was finally home.

“Mine,” Spike whispered into her. “You’re mine, Buffy. Forever. Mine.”

“Yes, yes.”

“Say it.”

“Yours. I’m yours.”

He was still thrusting into her as he lapped the wound closed, love shining through his eyes. “Bite me,” he replied in turn after drawing her mouth to his for a tender kiss. “Tell me who I belong to.”

Her demon sprang forward as another fire began building within her. A fire that shook her spiraling into a second orgasm as her fangs pierced his skin and his blood touched her tongue. And Spike rumbled in release, flooding her with himself as her muscles milked him for everything he had to give. She drank him greedily; drawing as much of him into herself as possible

“Mine,” she growled, forcing her teeth back into her mouth, suckling gently at his wound. “Mine.”

“Oh, I am so fucking yours.”

Buffy giggled and drew her mouth away, her eyes dancing. “Yes, you are.”

“Hey, you’re mine, too, you know.”

“Completely.”

Spike smiled and brushed a kiss across her forehead. “I can’t believe this,” he said with a long, contented sigh.

“What?”

“You. You’re here.”

“I’ve been here for a while, buster.”

His grin broadened, and he reached over to the unoccupied side of the bed, capturing two of the rose petals he had scattered throughout the crypt in preparation for their ritual union. For this sacred night. Red and white paper-thin wedges of beauty. He had done all of this for her.

No. Buffy frowned inwardly. That wasn’t right.

For them. He had done it for them.

“You’ve been here,” he agreed a minute later. “I jus’…I guess I never thought you’d really…”

“We have a bad habit of having to talk each other into believing this is real.”

Spike brushed a kiss against her mouth. “When it’s never been real before, pet, I think that’s natural. An’ you’re really here.” He dragged the red rose petal slowly down her chest, encircling her nipple reverently before drawing her into his mouth. “Red for blood,” he murmured. “An’ passion. An’ fury.”

The white rose petal followed course, mimicking the red’s actions against her other breast.

“This for purity,” he concluded. “Perfection.”

“I’m not pure or perfect.”

“No, baby. No one is…but you’re as close as a bloke on this bloody planet could get.” His brow fell against hers. “You make me wanna be a better man. The sort’ve man that could deserve this…someday.”

“Spike—”

“I have you,” he replied. “Doesn’ mean I deserve you. I’m a monster, pet. That’s the way it’s gonna be forever. But I’ll be a good monster for you. I’m gonna do things that…it’s not gonna be perfect, sweetheart. But I’ll give you as close to perfect as I can. I’ll be good for you. I jus’…I—”

Her mouth devoured his, and he lost himself for a few blissful seconds.

“It doesn’t need to be perfect,” she replied. “Just real. I love you. I’m not expecting perfect, Spike. I never will. Maybe I did once, but…perfect doesn’t exist. We’ll burn those bridges when we get there.”

“Don’t you mean cross?”

“No, I think we’ll burn them.” She paused. “You helped me touch the monster…even though eating a pig in the forest is hardly…but I’m not the Slayer I was, if I’m a Slayer at all anymore. If something happens, it happens. I don’t…I’m not that girl anymore. I’m a vampire, and I know what you have to fight. What you’re fighting right now. You’ve shown me everything without trying to hide that part. And I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He released a trembling sigh, wrapping his arms around her as she lowered his head to her shoulder, the rose petals smothered between them. “I jus’ wanted that said before the cavalry arrives. Before your Watcher comes in here, staffed with the entire Sunnydale cleric branch to take you outta here an’ get you to ‘snap the hell out of it.’”

“It won’t happen.”

“Buffy, you can’t be that bloody naïve—”

“Oh no. Not the first part…but someone’s going to get hurt if they try to take me out of here against my will.”

A small smile drew across his face. “That’s my girl.”

Buffy settled back, running her fingers lovingly through his hair. There was something about this; about this peace. About simply resting in his arms with the scent of their lovemaking perfuming the air. His cock resting within her body, more for the need of that connection than anything else.

She had never felt closer to anyone than she did to Spike. Never.

And she never would.

He had delivered her through the darkness and into the light, into a place of calm, soft enlightenment. A place she hadn’t known existed on this plane of being. He had brought her peace. The demon that had raged inside was completely docile, not merely quiet. Calm. The wail for her sire was gone.

She was in the arms of her mate. Their blood was kindled. Their path was the same.

That was the last thought that fluttered through her head before sleep overwhelmed her, and the gentle hum of morning spread over Sunnydale. The beginning of a new day.

She awoke with Spike’s arm around her, his blunt teeth teasing the claim mark on her throat. His arm was draped over her middle, his thumb stroking her stomach teasingly. The potency with which she felt him would likely take years to get used to, but it was the most wondrous feeling she had ever experienced. Every move that coursed through him, every sigh, every inward purr of contentment; she shared it all. Felt it all. And it was so right; she feared even contemplating the way her life would have gone if Dracula hadn’t whipped the carpet from under her feet. Hadn’t torn her away from the world she knew, and introduced her to this existence that she had so violently rebuked just two weeks before. The man behind her, holding her, murmuring his love into her hair as he slipped his erection inside her with a contented growl—the man that she had loathed so fervently in a life that was far behind her.

She couldn’t imagine the girl that had hated Spike. The girl that didn’t know him.

The girl whose life she had so nearly been condemned to live out before a bittersweet twist of fate changed all that for her.

Buffy wasn’t prepared to say that becoming a vampire was the best awakening she had ever had, but similarly, she couldn’t think of her former life without growing disgusted with herself. Without appreciating where she was now. She liked to think that she would have ended up here—with Spike, in his bed, in his arms—without needing a pair of fangs, but she knew better.

The girl that had lived in her mother’s house, the girl that had gone to UC Sunnydale, the girl that was Chosen, was dead.

“Hey there,” Spike whispered into her hair, his hand dancing down her abdomen to dip between her thighs.

She had never had sex in any position that wasn’t featured popularly in Hollywood movies, and the feel of him moving within her from behind sent her to new levels of ecstasy. But she wanted to look at him; see his eyes as he moved within her. She threw her leg over his waist, locking an arm around his neck, twisting slightly so she could see him. The angle spread her wider, sent his cock deeper within her, and she gasped aloud at the pleasured coo that tore through his lips.

“Hey,” she replied hoarsely.

“Fuck.”

“Why yes, I believe that’s what we’re doing.”

Spike smirked and seized her lips, settling his fingers over her clit and massaging her rapidly. “So tight,” he whimpered. “So fuckin’ hot.”

“Ohhhh…”

“I’m not gonna last.” His thrusts grew frantic. “I need to feel you come. Come for me, baby.”

If his whispered plea didn’t do it for her, the feel of his masterful fingers manipulating her body, his cock thrusting into her slick passage, his ivory fangs in her throat pushed her over that final edge. Buffy screamed her release into the still of the room, her walls clenching around him as he emptied himself in her supple, willing body. It was fast but wonderful, and sent her spiraling into an incredible wake.

“You’re amazing,” Spike murmured, lapping her wound closed as he slipped out of her, his arms closing around her and turning her to face him fully. “So bloody amazing.”

Buffy smiled languidly and brushed a kiss against his lips. “You’re pretty amazing yourself.”

“Fancy bein’ woken up like that for the rest of eternity?” He grinned and nuzzled her throat. “Think that’s somethin’ you might like?”

A long, dramatic sigh rushed through her. “I suppose I’ll manage.”

“Right sacrifice from where you’re sittin’, I’d wager.”

“Oh yeah.” Her head settled against their shared pillow with a dopey grin. “Major sacrifice.”

“Minx.”

“Hey, you asked.”

Spike smiled softly and tugged her closer, if such was possible. “I did at that.”

They lay together for a few quiet seconds, enjoying a comfortable silence. Buffy sighed again contentedly, her eyes fluttering shut. There wasn’t another person in the world that she could share this with. A silence that didn’t strain, air that didn’t require words to be meaningful. She knew how he felt without needing it spoken. Knew how to relax in the company of another, simply soaked in his love and kept in the security of his embrace.

“Mmm.” She opened her eyes again to find him watching her, his gaze positively glowing with adoration. “There’s…I think we should go today.”

“Go?”

Buffy wet her lips. “To see Mom. And…the others.”

A frown worried his eyes. “Are you sure?”

“No.” She shivered slightly and buried herself further in his arms. “I just think it’s better if we go to them before they come to us. I don’t want…” Another long sigh coursed through her body. “I need to do be the one who does this.”

“I know.” He paused. “Do you want me to come?”

“Of course I do.”

Spike sat up at that, pulling her fully into his lap. “They’re not gonna understand, pet,” he said softly. “You gotta know that.”

She glanced down, watching her hand sketch artless patterns across his skin. “Yeah, I know.” A beat. “But if they love me, they’ll accept it. Even if they don’t understand it, they’ll accept it…right?”

“Angel’s gonna have told Rupert what happened.”

“Yes.”

“An’ your soldier boy’ll be the bloody icing on the cake.”

“Well…they’ll just have to deal with it.” Buffy shook her head and buried her face in the crook of his throat. “If they can’t deal, well…”

Her voice trailed off. There was nothing she could say. She desperately wanted the approval and blessing of her friends, and while she would not allow them to come between her and her lover, it would crush her if every link to her former life was severed.

She missed them. She missed them, and she was terrified of them.

But she couldn’t put it off forever. And she had promised herself when they met, it would be on her terms.

“It’s okay, my little love,” Spike murmured after a minute. “It’s okay.”

Buffy nodded and pulled back, wiping at her eyes. “I know,” she replied honestly. “I do…I just…”

“If they try anythin’, we’ll leave town, right?”

“I’m so scared it’ll come to that.”

Spike shook his head. “Oh no. No, baby, they won’t…your mates love you. You know it. I was jus’ sayin’…I din’t think it—”

“If they try anything, we will leave town.” She sighed her conviction. “I’m afraid of what I’d do to them if they came after you. Before…and especially now.”

“I wouldn’t let you hurt them.”

“You wouldn’t be able to stop me.”

Spike exhaled deeply but didn’t try to pretend it otherwise. She had double the strength of him, maybe more. And if he tried to stop her while she was in the fury of protecting her mate, he might get hurt in the crossfire.

Then she would never be able to forgive herself.

Buffy endured a quiet minute. “They’re going to ask me why.”

He looked at her for a few seconds, then nodded. “Yeh.”

“I don’t owe them any explanations.”

“You don’t,” he agreed, brushing a kiss across her brow. “Do whatever you want, sweetling. It’s your decision. They can’t make you do anythin’.” He paused, then chuckled shortly. “Your Watcher’ll likely grill me on my intentions, yeh? Insist I get myself a steady job an’ a cozy li’l house with a white-picket fence so you can live out the rest of forever as the 50s li’l vampiress.”

She laced her fingers through his and shook her head. “He doesn’t have the right to tell you to do anything. Besides…I want to stay here.”

“Here?”

“Yeah.”

“Buffy…this is a sodding hole in the ground—”

“It’s home.”

“It’s bloody well beneath you.”

“But not beneath you, is that it?” Her eyes flashed irritably. “You’ve made this place as much a home for me as anywhere else. I know it’s…yes, it’s in a graveyard. I understand that. I know it’s a crypt, but it’s home. I’ve never felt safer anywhere than I do here. With you.”

“It’s a…” Spike frowned. “I don’t understand. I jus’…I always figured you’d wanna move. I jus’…”

“I don’t want to move.”

“Buffy—”

“I don’t want to move. Do you? Do you want to move?”

“I want you to be happy, sweets. As long as you’re happy, I don’ give a flyin’ fuck where we live.”

“I like it here.”

He stifled a chuckle and shook his head. “I jus’ never thought you could ever feel that way about this dump.”

“Well, I’m not saying it’s not a fixer-upper, but I do love it here.” She sighed. “Anywhere else, and I’d be pretending to be something that I’m not. We can’t live in an apartment and go to the grocery store or walk along the beach after playing volleyball in the sun. I can’t go back to school, unless I enroll in night classes…but I really don’t see the point in that. We have here what we’ve had for the past week…do you want to change that?”

He cupped her cheek tenderly and kissed her lips. “Not for the bloody world.”

She grinned. “So we patrol, which is made easy since, hey! Residents of the busiest cemetery in town. And we make with the sexcapades.”

“Out here where your screamin’ like a sodding banshee isn’t an issue,” he retorted teasingly.

“Hey!” She paused, then flushed and glanced down. “Well, yeah…”

“You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed.”

“I’m not embarrassed.”

“Yeh, you’re jus’ runnin’ an experiment on blushin’ vampires, right?”

She made a face at him and thwapped his shoulder playfully. “Jerk.”

Spike chuckled appreciatively and seized her arms, rolling her under him before she could get another word out. “Should prob’ly visit your mum firs’,” he said, nibbling on her neck, a hand cupping her breast as his eager, nimble fingers tweaked her nipple. “Make sure she knows you’re okay.”

“Don’t be talking about my mother while you’re…doing that.”

He pulled back at smirked at her. “Make you feel dirty?”

“Now that you mention it.”

“So I should stop, huh?” His hand abandoned her breast. “’S such a shame. Here I am, wantin’ to touch you, an’ you’re havin’ to be all stubborn about it.”

A pout crossed her face. “Meanie.”

“Hey.” He threw his hands up in mock innocence. “Jus’ honorin’ your wishes, pet.”

“Well, you can touch me if you want.”

“Can I?”

She nodded, worrying a lip between her teeth. “Just leave other members of my family out of it. They still think I’m a good girl.”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, everyone but my mom thinks I’m a good girl.”

“Din’t you burn down a school buildin’ once?”

“Shut up.”

“Oohhh, touchy, are we?” Spike skimmed his teeth over the claim mark on her throat, fingers dancing down her middle until he was cupping the apex of her thighs. “Perhaps I have the remedy for that.”

“Oh yes.”

“See here. You’re all wet.” He slipped a finger inside her passage, his mouth working up her skin. “Only naughty girls get wet in bed.”

“Gah.”

Another finger slid inside her. “Very naughty girls.”

“Well…” Buffy drew in a sharp breath and arched off the bed, thrusting needily into his hand. “What my family doesn’t know…won’t hurt them.”

Spike smiled, his head dipping, laving a wet path around her nipple. “Yeh,” he agreed gutturally. “’S what I thought.”

It felt like a thousand years had passed since she stood on her front porch. The feeling had followed her all the way to Revello Drive and had lingered in the back of her mind even when her mother choked a sob and took her into her arms. Sitting in the family room of the home that had been hers for the past five years, feeling strange and displaced, even though seeing her mother provided a different sort of peace that she hadn’t even known was missing. And though that peace was something she sorely needed, the house she had shared with her mother was no longer her house, and she was relieved when they stepped outside again.

Joyce’s reaction to almost everything came with a gentle touch of motherly support. She had grabbed and hugged Spike, sobbing her gratitude onto his shoulder for taking care of her little girl. The look of bewildered discomfort that flashed across his face as he looked to her for help was something Buffy would never forget. Spike wasn’t accustomed to being thanked for anything. He hadn’t known how to react to her whenever she expressed her endless appreciation for what he had given her in their short time together, and now with her mother giving him the same treatment, he was charmingly befuddled.

After the tearful reunion, Buffy had explained quietly what had transpired over the past few days. What decisions she had arrived at, and most importantly, the nature of her relationship with Spike. And Joyce couldn’t have been happier. She was more than a little irate when told that Angel and Riley had paid them a visit, had muttered some decidedly unpleasant things about Giles under her breath, but overall kept to her joy and gave them both her blessing.

With one provision: they were to visit her at least once a week. Something Spike was quick to agree to. By his own admission, he did not want to wake up with an incensed Joyce holding an axe over his head for withholding her daughter from her.

That was the easy one. Her mother liked her mate. Her mother was grateful and supportive. Her mother had been avidly against any attempt to remove Buffy from Spike’s care, and planned to have more than a few words with her Watcher at going expressly against her wishes.

None of that changed Buffy’s relief to leave her former house. The walls were constrictive, the lights made her eyes hurt, and while her bloodlust was maintained, she spent so much time worrying about her demon that she had refused to grow overly comfortable.

Spike squeezed Buffy’s hand, drawing her back to him. They were nearing Giles’s duplex, and she had yet to say a word.

“You all right?”

“Nervous,” she replied honestly.

“I feel that. I meant…you were wound up so tight about seein’ your mum—”

“I just…” Buffy wet her lips and shook her head. “It’s hard to explain. Being there…I’m glad I saw her. I’m glad I got that over with.” A shiver raced down her spine. “Is that a horrible thing to say? I love my mother. I just—”

“You were worried.”

“That she wouldn’t accept me. That she wouldn’t accept you. That…” She ducked her head at his look. “That I couldn’t take being that close to someone…who breathed. That I—”

“You’re still worried about the other.”

She nodded. Spike squeezed her hand again.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t?”

“Worry. We’re mated now, right?” He smiled softly. “I wouldn’t let you hurt those you love, pet. Not before, an’ definitely not now. Not for the bloody world.” A pause. “You din’t feel it though, did you?”

“The bloodlust? No.” Buffy frowned. “That was you, wasn’t it?”

He brushed a soft kiss across her forehead. “Bein’ mated has a few advantages.”

“So even if we get to Giles’s and he and Xander and everyone want to stake you, you’ll be able to control my need to—”

“Well, luv, at that point I think it might be more beneficial to leave before we test jus’ how much control I can filter to your demon. ‘Specially since the claim is less than twenty-four hours old.” A wry grin tickled his lips. “Remember, I might be the experienced vamp here, but neither one of us have been mated before. We’re learnin’ this one together.”

Buffy smiled and dropped a kiss across his shoulder. “I can think of worse things.”

The duplex was directly ahead. A familiar courtyard, unkempt but strangely beautiful for its rugged façade. The open view into Giles’s front parlor. All her friends were there, as though they had known tonight was the night. As though they had known to come and wait for them.

She didn’t feel Angel near. His scent was heavy, but his presence was gone. Riley as well. It was just her friends. No former lovers, scorned with her decisions. Just friends.

Why didn’t that ease her apprehension?

Spike tugged on her hand gently and turned to look at her. The deep azure of his eyes provided strength and reassurance. It was for him that she was here. He had helped her reach this point. He had stood by her side as she suffered through the transition of leaving her former self behind to embrace the wiser girl that stood with him now.

No, not a girl. A woman.

She had finally outgrown her childhood. And Spike was the reason.

“We’ll stay as long as you want,” he told her. “Be it five minutes or five hours, right?”

A grateful, watery smile crossed her face, and she leaned up to kiss his lips. “I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you, too.” He pressed his brow to hers and released a shuddering breath. “So bloody much.”

Buffy squeezed his hand and kissed him again.

Then she was ready.

“As long as you want,” he murmured once more as they approached.

She didn’t reply; there was no need. In short seconds, they were standing before Giles’s door, and the face of her Watcher was on the other side. His eyes went wide with relief and understanding, sorrow and regret. And they looked at each other for long seconds, saying nothing. Merely accepting each other without words.

It didn’t last as long as it felt. A soft smile crossed Giles’s face, and he stepped aside. “Come in, Buffy,” he said softly.

She didn’t move. Rather, she glanced to Spike and back to her Watcher.

She wasn’t going anywhere until it was understood that her mate went with her.

And to his credit, Giles recognized that. There was nothing but understanding behind his eyes. Understanding and acceptance.

“Both of you, of course.” He nodded. “Come in.”

And that was that. Her mate warmed under her touch.

Fingers laced, words and more than words between them, Spike squeezed Buffy’s hand, and they crossed the threshold together.

Crossed one threshold, and burnt the first of many bridges.

Conclusive Thoughts:

Wow. And I mean wow.

You guys have been entirely fantastic. Thank you so much for taking the time to read, and in some cases, review or email me pertaining to your thoughts to this story. I had an absolute ball writing it, and I am more than a little sad to see it end.

I know a few people are going to be disappointed that I did not delve into the Scooby reaction—that, to me, is another story. I decided to end it the way I did because this part of Buffy and Spike’s journey was complete, and that was all I ever really set out to write. Buffy’s trials through the first stages of demonhood, exploring the things that I believe Whedon set out as the essentials for all vampires, and discovering faith and love amidst pain and wisdom. To have written more would’ve made the story into something else, in my opinion. And I always try to keep a few ends loose…if not for the possibility of returning to a retired plotline, then simply for the knowledge that life is never completely resolved.

You’ll notice in the challenge guidelines that Spike was to help Buffy get away from Dracula’s castle, and I interpreted that as help in any way, whether it be his presence or physically grabbing her and running for the door. It was important to me that Buffy make all the important decisions in this story. She chose to go to Spike, because his presence helped her escape. She asked him to hold her their first night together when the boundaries of their relationship had not yet been established. She initiated their kiss at the Bronze in plain view of her friends. And ultimately, she was the one to claim him and make the call when she was ready to face her family. Whether you interpret that decision as ignoring the guideline or trying to bend it constructively is entirely up to you, and I won’t begrudge you if you choose the former. It was simply important to me that Buffy be in control of her destiny instead of relying on others to make her decisions for her, regardless of whether she was aware of it.

Thank you all again for your reviews, criticisms, and emails. I am entirely blessed in my readership. Thank you.

And a special, extended thank you to Megan, Mari, Kimmie, and Yani for betaing this story for me. You gals are simply the best.

Peace,
Holly

Challenge Guidelines

Challenge: 92 at Bloodshedverse
In the episode with Dracula, he turns Buffy. Buffy doesn't want to be with Drac but, she can't get away. When Buffy dosen't come back the scoobies go searching for her( with Spike's help of course). They split up and Spike finds her first and helps her get away!

Must haves:

1.) biteness

2.) SPUFFY

3.) NO DAWN!!!!!!!!!(unless you can work her in well)

4.) Angel coming to town and getting humilliated!