Chapter One

 

 

Riley Finn leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face and a giggling blonde on his lap. More women fluttered around his personal table and his men were keeping an eye on his back. Life was good. Everything was perfect. Well, *almost* perfect. There was one small snag in the smooth tapestry of his new life.

         

Buffy.

 

How dare she forget just who she belonged to? She was his queen; the only woman fit to rule beside him in his little self-made kingdom of Sunnydale. Well, he had shown her, hadn’t he? No one, especially one of his women, walked away from Riley Finn. He was the one that decided when a relationship ended, and Miss Buffy Summers better not forget it again, or she would be pissing blood for a month.

 

And if she continued to resist, he had his little *key* to keep his girl on the straight and narrow. It was quite brilliant, really. Shame he hadn’t thought of it before. 

 

And he had thought that having a daughter would be useless to him.

 

* * * * * * * * * * *

 

3 months later…

 

“Mr. Giles is in his office, Master William.” The ancient butler bowed as he swept the door open.

 

Spike clapped the old man on the shoulder as he breezed passed him. “How is that little woman doing, Riggs? She keeping you busy?” He laughed at the butler’s sour expression and continued to make his way to the back of the house.

 

Rupert Giles cast aside the book he was reading when his son burst into the room. “Did I send for you?” he asked absent mindedly, pouring both of them generous portions of the finest scotch money could buy.

 

“You did.” Spike wasn’t fooled by the vague attitude the older man cultivated. He sat down across from his father and accepted his drink.

 

“Good to see you, William. Your mother and sisters have been missing you dreadfully, you know.”

 

The broad hint didn’t go unnoticed. “I’ll make it a point to see them before I go.”

 

Giles shifted into a more comfortable position in the leather chair. “There is a situation I wanted to discuss with you. Something that requires your special touch.”

 

“Sunnydale?”

 

Giles frowned. “You know?”

         

Spike shrugged. “Just because I’m no longer in the game doesn’t mean I haven’t kept in touch with my sources. I was already planning on paying a visit before you sent for me. I’ve heard a few rumors I want to check out.”

 

The expression on Giles’ face would frighten a lesser man. “I don’t like to be made a fool of, William. I blame myself for not keeping a closer eye on the west coast operations. I want you to take care of this for me and I want it done as expeditiously as possible. And when the time is right, I want Riley Finn to know exactly who crushed him. I’ve worked far too hard to have it all ruined by some little worm with a God complex. That bastard has already killed three of my best men.”

 

Spike stared down into the amber colored liquor in the bottom of his glass. “Why me? I’ve been out of the loop for a long time.” A scarred eyebrow arched inquiringly.

 

“Because your… unique abilities will guarantee that you’re accepted into their inner circle.”

 

“In other words this git has a thing for employing demons to do his dirty work?” Spike said more harshly than he intended. He made an effort to lower his voice, aware that his mother and sisters were somewhere in the house. “You can say the word, Rupert. It’s ‘vampire’. V-A-M-P-I-R-E.”

 

A look of pain crossed Giles’ face. “There isn’t a day that goes by that I forget, son. Not an hour that I don’t regret it happening. All of it.”

 

“Don’t.” Spike bit out.

 

“William…”

 

“Not doing this again, Da. Just drop it. Tell me what I need to know.”

 

Giles cleared his throat. “Right then. In spite of your long absence from the demon scene, your name has become something of a legend. I’ve taken the liberty of sending Osborne out there to drop words into the right ears. I have complete faith in your abilities, William, and you’re the only one I trust to do this right.”

 

Spike rolled his eyes and snorted when Giles called him a legend. “Bloody hell,” he sighed, knowing that in spite of all his reservations, he would do this for his father. “When do I leave?”

 

“Let’s get Harris over here so we can get your stories straight. I want nothing left to chance in this.”  

 

 

 

Chapter Two

 

One week later…Sunnydale, California

         

 

Spike was mildly surprised as he looked around, taking in the sumptuous decor of the club. It was done in the latest Art Deco style, with everything in turquoise or silver. The band was assembled on a raised dais, a tall, well-built black man dressed in a tuxedo leading them into a jazzy little warm up number. In front of the dais, the dance floor itself looked like a fairyland with the mandatory mirrored ball casting tiny spotlights across the floor and glittering along the silver leaf accents. Tiny tables surrounded the dance floor, each one covered with long turquoise tablecloths with a richly scented candle as the centerpiece It was definitely a cut above the other two clubs in Sunnydale. It could easily hold its own against similar places in New York City, Chicago, or Los Angeles.

 

Beside him, Xander Harris was memorizing every detail of the place without being obvious about it. Harris was famous for his photographic memory. No detail escaped his notice. They had been friends since childhood and he was indispensable to Spike.

 

"What do you think, Xan?" Spike asked in a low tone.

 

"Nice place. Clean."  Xander cricked his neck. "We got one goon on each exit. No visible weapons on any of them. Not that it means anything. There’s a lot of money is changing hands here with the gambling and booze alone. Lotta familiar faces in this place.” He raised an eyebrow at his friend. “So, how many of these familiar faces are vamps?”

 

“About forty percent of them.” Spike said, his own eyes following a large, beefy-looking man across the room to a table at the rear of the club. He was accompanied by two other men equal in size and bristling with weapons. Several women fluttered nearby and a few of the bolder tarts approached the table. The larger man leaned back and smiled at a pretty blonde, patting his lap. Spike winced as the girl gave a hyena-like laugh and plopped herself down. No accounting for taste, he supposed with a grimace.

 

“There’s our boy.”  He informed Xander.

 

Xander nodded his agreement before turning his attention to the sweet little redhead that was setting their drinks in front of them. “And what’s your name, darling?” he drawled.

 

She blushed under his stare and almost dropped her tray in her nervousness. "My name is Willow, sir. Can I get you anything else?"

 

"Now that I have your name, I'm content." Xander ignored the snort from his friend. "You want anything else, Spike?"

 

“Nothing else for me, thanks.”

 

With a last look at Xander, the redhead hurried away.

 

Spike sighed. He hoped it wouldn't be long before they received a summons for an audience from the owner. Theirs were unfamiliar faces and their presence wouldn’t go unquestioned. He was eager to get this business taken care of so he could concentrate on his own reason for being here. He was turning to chastise Xander for flirting on the job when the lights dimmed and a blue spotlight lit the stage. Soft piano music began to float through the room. The band leader approached the microphone with a smile.

 

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to Finn’s. It's my great pleasure to introduce our very own...Miss Buffy Summers!"

 

Spike froze. It had been almost four years, but nothing had changed. Dressed entirely in white, she gave the illusion of a heavenly being. Her long, golden hair curled to her waist, setting her apart from the rest of the women in the room, who all looked alike with their cropped hair and overdone, kewpie-doll makeup. Her large green eyes were sparkling as she walked to the microphone and smiled at the crowd. She was entrancing. When he heard her voice again, all coherent thought left his head.

 

 

I'm lost in the dark,
Where is the spark
For my love?
I'm lost in the night,
Holding the light
Of my love.
The heavens opened and closed,
As well I might have supposed,
And I am left in disabandon,
So far removed from all that I had planned on.”


“My days have grown so lonely,
For I have lost my one and only;
My pride has been humbled,
But I am his, body and soul.”

 

 

She definitely had stage presence. Every eye in the place was on her. Her smoky voice wrapped around the room like a warm blanket. This woman was born to sing the blues. She swayed to the music and she used the movements of her hands to add expression to the song.

“I was a mere sensation,
My house of cards had no foundation,
Although it has tumbled,
I still am his, body and soul. 

What lies before me?
The future is stormy,
A winter that's gray and old;
Unless there's magic
The end will be tragic,
And echo the tale that's been told so often.

 

 

 

Spike leaned forward in his chair, his eyes focused on nothing but her. As though she felt the intensity of his stare, her eyes scanned the room until she found him. Her eyes widened in her suddenly pale face and her voice faltered just the slightest it. He watched as she struggled for control and continued her song.

My life revolves about him,
What earthly good am I without him?
My castles have crumbled,
But I am his, body and soul.

What lies before me?
The future is stormy,
A winter that's gray and old;
Unless there's magic
The end will be tragic,
And echo the tale that's been told so often.

My life revolves about him,
What earthly good am I without him?
My castles have crumbled,
But I am his, body and soul

 

 

By the time she finished she was singing directly to him, her entire soul laid bare in her tear filled green eyes. She was trembling visibly as she bowed to the applause that swept through the club. Turning, she cast one last look over her shoulder at Spike and left the stage. The lights brightened once more and Spike sat back in his chair, downing the contents of his glass in one gulp. She was unbelievable. He couldn't believe she still had the ability to get him hard as a rock with only her voice and those amazing green eyes.

 

Xander looked at him in amazement. "Was....was that who I think it was?" he asked.

 

Spike could only nod. Several couples seated nearby had noticed the sparks flying between the beautiful chanteuse and the mysterious blonde man and were staring at their table with blatant curiosity. The few that were aware of the relationship between the singer and the clubs owner were glaring with open hostility. He refused to acknowledge their stares. Drawing so much attention wasn't good for him and Xander, and it didn’t bode well for her either. Not now. Not in this town. 

 

“Did you know she was here? Hell! Did you know she was ALIVE?”  Xander demanded.

 

"I’ve always known she was alive,” Spike said, his voice completely devoid of emotion. He signaled their redheaded waitress for another round. “As for knowing she was here? Yeah I had an idea that she might be.”

 

It was going to be a long night.

 

 

Chapter Three

 

He was alive…        

 

Buffy found a dark hallway and slid limply down the wall, completely broken. One hand covered her mouth to stifle her sobs while the other was pressed to her splintering heart.

 

She had been certain he was dead; taken from her by the ultimate betrayal. Her father had forced her to kneel beside Spikes corpse, smeared with his blood as she felt for a non-existent pulse. It had taken five of Hank Summers’ men to drag her from her fallen lover’s side as that warehouse burned down around them.

 

Standing there in the darkness trying to calm her thundering heartbeat, she knew without a doubt that it really was him and not some look-alike conjured up by her desperate mind. No other man possessed those impossibly gorgeous, midnight-blue eyes; eyes that had haunted her dreams for almost four years. Buffy covered her face with her shaking hands, dazedly wondering how it could possibly be true.

 

Even if it really were him, what could she do? It changed nothing. She was still just as much a prisoner as she had been before she walked out on that stage. If anything, his miraculous return from the dead would complicate the plans she had made. Plans that already had less than a chance in hell of working.

 

Forcing herself to her feet, she leaned back against the wall and released a tired sigh. What should she do? Confront him? Maybe, but why bother? The fact that he had obviously been alive all this time and never attempted to find her filled her with anger and despair. But if he wasn’t here for her, what other reason could he have for being here?

 

Hearing feminine voices approaching, Buffy shrank back further into the shadows. It wouldn’t do for any of them to see her in this condition. The majority of them were jealous of her elevated status as Riley’s woman, so they took great pleasure in reporting every transgression she made; real or imagined. They were like a bunch of two year olds fighting over a dolly in the play yard.

 

Unaware of her presence, Harmony and Cordelia continued on their way to the dressing room. Buffy grimaced. She had been hoping to avoid those two entirely since they were the worst. Cordelia had been something of a friend at first, but Riley had taken care of that by taking the brunette as one of his mistresses. Not that Buffy cared about his infidelity. The loss of Cordy’s friendship had hurt far worse.

 

“You’re insane if you think a man like that would waste two minutes of his time with a slut like you, Harmony!” Cordelia said, haughtily. “He’s far too fine for the likes of you!”

 

Harmony prattled on, oblivious as usual to Cordy’s insults. “Those eyes! That hair! Have you ever seen hair that blonde? And did you see that body? I’ll bet he’s hung like a….” Judging from her glowing description, there was little doubt who Harmony was babbling about.

 

Their voices faded as they entered the dressing room down the hall. Moving quickly, Buffy slipped into the nearby bathroom so she could repair the damage all her crying had done to her make-up. She looked in the mirror, gasping in horror at the sight of her ravaged face and red-rimmed eyes.

 

She did the best she could with cold water and face-powder. Her nose was still slightly pink, but if anyone asked she could always say she was coming down with a cold. Squaring her shoulders, she flung the door open, ready to brave the horrors of the communal dressing room.        

 

Inside was chaos, as usual. Clothing flew, feminine voices chattered, laughter rang out. When they saw Buffy, the resulting silence was deafening. She ignored them all, walking the gauntlet of their stares with her head held high and her nose in the air. Envy, anger, and censure were just a few of the emotions showing on the faces she passed. For the tiniest moment her eyes met Cordelia’s, but her former friend turned away quickly, trying to hide the guilt in her own eyes. With a slightly bitter smile, Buffy moved on.

 

Her place at the long mirror was all the way at the end. Usually she was tripped or pushed several times before she made it there, but today she passed without incident. That in itself made her nervous. They rarely, if ever, passed up on the chance to make her life just a little more miserable.

 

Their chatter resumed as she flung herself down in front of the mirror. Gazing critically at her reflection, Buffy continued the repairs to her make-up that she had started in the bathroom. She was applying fresh lipstick when someone jostled her elbow, causing her to smudge out of line.

 

Harmony stood over her, an annoying smirk on her vapid face. “I saw what you were trying to do out there, and you can just keep your mitts off my new man!”  She planted her hands on her hips, causing her ample cleavage to jiggle. “You’re such a slut, you think that you have to have every man that comes along! Riley is too good for you!”

 

The room was silent once more as they waited to see Buffy’s reaction to the red-faced blonde’s taunts. Carefully wiping away the smudge, Buffy allowed her eyes to meet Harmony’s in the mirror. A mocking smile curved her red lips. She opened her mouth as if to reply, then in one lightening quick move she shot to her feet and stood nose to nose with her tormenter.

 

“Everyone knows that it takes a slut to know a slut, Harm. You’ve fucked so many men it’s a wonder you don’t leave a trail when you walk from all the cum that leaks out of you.” Buffy had taken their abuse in silence for so long that several shocked gasps and a round of giggles greeted her crude comment. Buffy paid them no attention. Cordelia watched avidly from the sidelines as Harmony flinched away from her vicious words, her mouth flapping soundlessly.

 

“You want Riley, Harm? Hmm? Take him, by all means. Be. My. Guest.” She bit out. Turning away, Buffy snatched up her small evening purse and shoved her way past the stunned blonde. The sea of half-dressed bodies parted without comment, struck dumb by a side of Buffy Summers that they had never seen before.

 

 

Chapter Four

 

“This is some sweet little setup you have here, Finn.” Spike said, raising his glass and toasting the man across the table.

 

They had been summoned to the back table by a dark haired beauty with an imposing bust line and a predatory bearing. She had stared lustfully at Spike, licking her lips as she made it abundantly clear that she could be had. Spike was familiar with the type. Sweet as can be until you thwarted her, then she turned into a scratching she-devil. Her cheap perfume made him want to gag as they followed her.

 

Riley smiled benignly. “Yes, it’s worked out well for me.” he said.

 

Inside, Riley was seething. Where the hell was Buffy? She had left the stage almost an hour ago! Motioning to the she-cat, he whispered in her ear while rubbing her ass. With a curt nod, she flounced away.

 

Spike leaned back in his chair. "So, our mutual friend informs me you’re in need of some assistance?”

 

"You might say that. I’m having some trouble with a few people who are trying to muscle in on my territory.”  Riley said, tersely.

 

The little red-haired waitress Xander had flirted with earlier approached the table. "C-Can I get you anything else, sir?" she stammered, trying bravely to mask her obvious fear of her employer.

 

"DID I CALL YOU OVER HERE??" Riley roared, striking her across the face. The girl fell from the force of his blow, one hand held to her reddening face,

 

The room went ominously quiet. Spike had to lay a hand on Xander's wrist to keep him from going over the table after Riley. His heart went out to the girl, but this wasn't their fight. Not yet.

 

Suddenly there was a vision in white silk kneeling at the injured girl’s side. Buffy put her arm around Willows shoulder and helped her to sit up. Faith stood behind them, a bored expression on her hard face.

 

"Are you okay, Willow?" Buffy asked her, keeping her voice gentle as she helped the sobbing girl to her feet.

 

Willow sniffled, bravely trying to stifle her sobs. "I'm okay, Buffy"

 

Buffy put her fingers under the other girls chin and inspected her face. "Go ask Andrew to get you an ice pack, and then ask him take you home, okay?"

 

Nodding, the redhead flung one last look of fear at Riley and scurried away, still holding her smarting cheek. Talking and music had finally resumed. The show was over.

 

Sighing, Buffy turned to walk to the table. She made it two steps before she froze. Taking an involuntary step backwards, she trod on Faiths foot.

 

"Ow! What the hell, B?" Faith sputtered.  “These shoes cost me a mint!”

 

Spike. And Xander Harris. Sitting with Riley like they were old chums. Oh, God, this couldn't be good. It took a tremendous effort but she pasted an expression of supreme indifference on her face. Buffy knew if she showed the slightest bit of interest in his guests that Riley would crush her. She turned to face him, her face completely void of emotion.

 

"Was all that quite necessary?" she asked, not allowing her eyes to stray anywhere near his two guests.

 

He gave her *the look* and pointed at the empty chair beside him. "Mind your own business and sit your little ass down, girlie. Now."

 

Showing no emotion, Buffy seated herself, gracefully crossing her legs. Faith slithered into the chair beside her, catching Xander’s eye and giving him a lascivious wink.

 

Every muscle in Spikes body was tensed as he struggled to control the demon inside him. Although his source had informed him that Buffy was Finn’s paramour, facing the reality of it enraged him. Four years and a slight case of being dead had done nothing to dim his feelings for her. He was just as captivated now as he had been the first day he met her.

 

He watched as Finn threw a possessive arm along the back of her chair, her involuntary flinch telling him the exact nature of their relationship. Something was very wrong here, Spike mused, watching her carefully. She had yet to raise her eyes from the table. While her physical appearance had changed little, Spike found it hard to believe this was the same girl that had sung to him with such fire earlier. The same girl that had gifted him with her innocence and love four years ago. She seemed…broken. He looked at Finn with eyes that flashed yellow and stifled the desire to crush his larynx with his bare hands.

 

Now it was Xander’s turn to caution his boss. He nudged Spikes leg under the table.

         

The men resumed their conversation, not bothering to include the women. Buffy could have cared less. Having Riley’s attention away from her gave her an opportunity to observe the other man without fear of retribution.

 

There was something different about him that she couldn’t put her finger on. He was still as devastatingly handsome as ever. His hair was naturally a sandy blonde color, but he had talked her into bleaching it out once and liked it so much that he never went back to his normal color. Strangely enough, it suited him. His face was all angles; sharp cheekbones, square chin. The crooked scar that cut through his left eyebrow was a souvenir from his first real fight when he was 16. The only softness in his features was the indecently long eyelashes that framed his sapphire blue eyes and his mouth. Buffy felt a quiver run through her vitals as she stared at those beautifully shaped lips, shaken by the memory of what they used to do to her.

 

Feeling her eyes on him like a physical caress, Spike leaned back in his chair again, crossing his arms comfortably across his chest. “I’m confident that Mr. Harris and I will be able to help you out.” He said.

 

“So, make with the bumpies. Let’s see how fearsome you are.” Finn leaned forward eagerly.

 

 

Chapter Five

Spike froze. Just like that, the cat was out of the bag. He’d had every intention of telling Buffy, but he would have told her HIS way. Now, thanks to this overgrown pillock, it was too late. Darting a quick look at her, he saw that her eyes were wide with shock, but the revulsion he’d expected to find was nowhere in evidence. Instead, he saw a flash of compassion before her carefully blank mask slipped back into place

“Oh, come on! No need to be shy about it. Nothing that both of the ladies haven’t seen before. In fact, Faith has a thing for vamps, don’t you sugar?” Finn laughed, wickedly. He was still staring with that sickeningly eager expression that made Spike want to rip his throat out.

“Later, perhaps? I think there are other, more important issues we need to discuss,” Spike bit out. There was no way he was showing this sick asshole his game face, especially with Buffy sitting right there beside him.

“Of course! You’ll want to know the financial details…”

“May I go home, please?” Buffy interrupted.

Finn glared at her for speaking out of turn. “What the hell crawled up your ass?”

“I’m very tired. You don’t need me here for this. I’d like to go home, please.”

The look he gave her promised retribution at a later time, but she didn’t care. She had to get out of here.

“Fine! Tell Andrew to take you home. I’ll come by later.” When she stood up his hand shot out and latched onto her arm, twisting cruelly. “And you’d BETTER be there, Buffy.”

Buffy didn’t make a sound, didn’t even flinch, no matter how hard he squeezed. Jerking her arm free, she pasted a fake smile on her face. “Goodnight everyone.” She could feel Spike’s eyes boring into her back as she walked away and had to force herself to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Rubbing his hands together gleefully, Finn turned back to his guests. “Now, how about…” His words ended in an abrupt, decidedly unmanly shriek as he came nose to nose with a fully vamped and extremely pissed off Spike.

“Like what you see, mate?” His grin belied the rage in his golden eyes as he deliberately licked his fangs. It was almost impossible to hide the disgust he felt as his sensitive nose picked up the waves of lust coming off of both Finn and the dark haired bint beside him. Even his demon recoiled from their arousal.

Sliding back into his chair, he shook off his game face and met Finn's stare with cool blue eyes. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.” he said mockingly. Xander tried to smother a laugh into a cough beside him and Spike jabbed an elbow into his ribs. “Quiet you! If you can’t behave, go sit in the bloody car!”

“No, I’m fine, really!” Xander snickered.

“I said go! Get out of my sight!” Spike rolled his eyes at Finn as Xander got up and headed towards the restrooms, still giving the occasional whoop of laughter. “Bloke’s got no respect at all. Laughs like a damned hyena whenever I do that.”

“Damned near impossible to get good help these days,” Riley agreed as he wiped his sweaty forehead with his napkin. Faith was practically sitting on his lap and her hand was under the tablecloth, working him over almost viciously. “Why don’t you come around tomorrow before we open? You can meet the rest of the gang and we’ll talk money.” he suggested.

Spike shrugged. “Fine with me. Need to find a place to stay anyway.”

“I own a building a few blocks away. I have one of the penthouses but the other is empty. You’re welcome to stay there if you like.”

“Right generous of you, mate. I’ll accept. Do I need a key? I’d like to get settled in right away. It’s way past my dinner time, if you know what I mean…” Spike said with an evil smirk.

“AHHH!” Riley yelled, grabbing at Faith's hands under the table. “I mean, absolutely! Joseph will get the key for you. I’ll see you here tomorrow, then?” He staggered to his feet, pulling the girl along with him.

“I’ll be here.” It was damned near impossible to control his mirth as he watched the two of them fall over each other in their haste to find some privacy. Really, he was getting as bad as Xander. Lighting a fag, Spike went in search of his partner.

He found him at the bar, trying unsuccessfully to charm a bored looking blonde waitress. She perked up visibly when Spike drew near.

“Hi, sugar! Care to buy a lady a drink?” she squeaked, batting her gummy eyelashes and running a hand up his arm.

Spike looked at her from under his eyelashes and smiled angelically. “I sure would, pet. When you see one, send her right on over, hm? There’s a good girl!” Leaving her gasping with indignation over the insult, Spike motioned for Xander to follow him.

Once outside in the cool night air, Xander flipped up the collar of his trench coat and coughed twice. At Spikes almost imperceptible nod, they turned into a nearby alley.

They didn’t have long to wait. Two of Finn’s goon squad followed close behind them. Both were vamps and Spike made short work of dispatching them. He shot Xander a dirty look. “Thanks for the help, mate!”

“Oh, please!” Xander examined his carefully buffed fingernails. “You know I only get in your way, which pisses you off even more. Besides…I’m the brains; you’re the brawn,” he quipped.

“If you’re the brains then we’re in truly deep shit.”

“Hey!”

Spike pulled a silver flask from his pocket and drank deeply from it. Passing it to Xander, he lit another cigarette and leaned back against the brick wall. “You followed her?”

 “Yes. Didn’t take long. She went into an apartment building a few blocks from here. I slipped in after the guard dog left. The elevator stopped on the top floor.”

Exhaling a plume of smoke, Spike gave a short bark of laughter. “Finn owns the building. He put us right next door to them.” Snatching his flask back, he took another long drink. “Let’s go get settled. Then you can meet Oz as we planned.”

Xander trailed along behind him. “What are you going to be doing?” he asked.

“I’m gonna to talk to my girl.”

 

Chapter Six

 

Buffy rinsed the last of the soap from her body and pulled the rubber stopper to let the water gurgle down the drain. She smiled at the memory of her four year old self clinging to her mother after a bath, certain that there were monsters in the drains that could reach out and grab her if she got too close. Her mother had laughed gently and reassured her with kisses. It was shortly after that when Hank Summers came and took her away. She never saw her mother again, and she quickly learned that not all monsters lived in the drains.

 

After drying and powdering herself, she slipped into a nightgown and peignoir of red silk. Pulling the pins from her hair, she picked up her hairbrush and left her bedroom; idly running the brush through her hair as she made her way through the darkened apartment. The French doors to the terrace were open, allowing a cool breeze to waft in. She tossed the brush on the sofa and she went out to stand at the terrace railing, gazing out over the lights of Sunnydale as she waited.

 

She didn’t have to wait long. He hadn’t made a sound to announce his presence, but Buffy knew he was standing right behind her.

 

“You were dead.” Her voice was flat and emotionless. It helped her maintain a small measure of control.

 

“I touched you myself while my father shoved a gun in my face and screamed at me to get away from you. You didn’t have a pulse. I couldn’t feel your heart, even when I laid my head on your chest. It was gone. You were gone. And the blood. So much blood. I was covered in blood but none of it was mine because you pushed me out of the way. They tried to pull me away from you, but I fought them. They were afraid of the fire. I didn’t care. Hank finally hit me in the head with his gun; knocked me out so they could carry me.”

 

Buffy felt his hand on her hair, sifting through the golden strands. She closed her eyes on a sudden surge of tears. How she had missed this! He had always loved her hair; spent hours brushing and playing with it. It was the only reason she’d never given in to the demands of fashion and had it sheared into a bob. Every night she lay in bed and imagined his hands on her hair.

 

“I tried to kill myself once. It was the first time Riley came to the house. There was a party that night…lots of drinking and loud music. I refused to stay. Hank was angry but I just ignored him and went back to my room. I was almost asleep when he came in. He didn’t say a word, just jumped on me. I didn’t have the strength to fight him off. When he was done I crawled into the bathroom and just lay on the floor. All I could think about was you. But you were gone…I loved you so much and you were lost to me forever. What reason did I have to live?” She absently rubbed the scars on the insides of her wrists. “Riley told my father that I did it because he refused to take me back to California with him. Good old dad told him I was his responsibility now; that he had to take care of me. So, that’s how I ended up here. I became Riley’s whore with my fathers blessing.”

 

Turning to face him, she lifted her chin and gazed at him, her eyes lingering on each of his features. “Will you tell me how? And why you didn’t come for me?” she asked, her voice finally showing some emotion as it shook with suppressed tears.

 

Spike framed her face between his cool hands, his thumbs caressing her smooth skin. “Remember Angelus?” He waited for the name to sink in and continued when she nodded slightly. Angel and Darla O’Conner. The first vampire she had ever met and his gorgeous human wife. Spikes best friends.

 

“You’d left your wrap in his car. He and Darla were bringing it back when they saw your father’s men tossing us in the back of the car. They followed them to the warehouse. Angel could have taken them on all by himself, but Darla insisted he call Giles for help. By the time he made it back the warehouse was already on fire and he heard you screaming.”

 

Buffy was shaking with remembered terror and Spike quickly removed his duster, pulling her close as he wrapped her in its folds. He hated hurting her this way but it needed to be said.

 

“He found a way in and found us just as your fathers men were carrying you off. He pulled me to safety, not knowing I was already dead. He’s never given me an actual reason for doing what he did. Said he didn’t take time to think, he just acted. Wasn’t even sure that it would work because he didn’t know how long it had been since my heart stopped beating. He tore open his wrist and let the blood run into my mouth. Fed me just like you used to feed that bloody kitten you had, rubbing my throat to work it down. And it worked. He turned me.”

 

Spike tipped his head back and stared up at the stars, sighing heavily. “The first few months were so crazy, I honestly don’t remember much. We never figured out how I kept my soul. Angel was cursed with his when he fed on some gypsy chit. By the time I was sane enough to come for you, your father had spirited you away. It wasn’t until a year ago that I got a break. Oz had come out here to handle some business for Giles and saw you at the club. After searching for so long, when I finally knew where you were, all I could think of was how you’d react to my being what I am. It was Darla more than anyone that convinced me to try.”

 

She was crying openly now, her narrow shoulders. Buffy clung to him and buried her face in his chest. “I’ve been so lost without you!” she sobbed. “I don’t care what you are, as long as you’re with me. Please, Spike. Promise me you’ll never leave me again?”

 

“Never.” Holding her tight, Spike pressed his face into her hair, breathing in her scent.

 

They held each other for an endless moment before Buffy pulled away, taking one of his hands in hers. “Come with me, I want to show you something.” She smiled, using her free hand to wipe her damp cheeks.

 

Spike followed behind her, marveling at the changes only an hour had wrought. She led him down a short hallway and stopped in front of a white-painted door. Holding a finger to her lips, she turned the glass knob and swung it silently open.

 

It was clearly a nursery; cluttered with miniature furniture and toys. A small nightlight burned on the dresser, casting a golden glow over a bed fit for a princess. And what a princess she was. She lay on her side, blankets kicked down to her feet and plump arms flung out in front of her. Her hair was a mass of honey brown curls that could only be natural. When the light from the hall shined in her face she scrunched up her nose and gave a small squeak of protest.

 

A multitude of emotions warred within him as he gazed at her. On one hand he was happy for Buffy. Children between the two of them wouldn’t be possible without some powerful magic being involved. But on the other hand he raged with jealousy that this bit of perfection belonged to Finn; that he could share this with Buffy.

 

Buffy wanted to laugh with joy. She knew what he was thinking and couldn’t let him continue to jump to the wrong conclusion any longer.

 

“Spike?” she whispered. “You’re wrong, baby.”

 

He frowned in confusion as she leaned over the little girl, running her fingers lightly over a bright pink cheek.

 

“Dawnieeee,” Buffy singsonged. “Wake up, babydoll. Momma wants to show someone how pretty you are.”

 

The child burrowed into her pillows, then flipped over with a testy growl. “Sweepy,  Momma!”

 

“Just for a minute?”

 

With a long suffering sigh, she sat up and blinked owlishly at her mother. “Wha?”

 

Buffy laughed gently, attempting to smooth down the riot of curls. “She’s pretty grumpy when she wakes up. She gets that from me. When she IS happy she loves to sing.” She smiled brightly at Spike, who was looking as confused as ever. “She gets that from me, too. But her eyes…” Gently turning the little girl to face Spike, she waited breathlessly as shocked blue clashed with sleepy blue.

 

“She gets THOSE from you.”

 

 

Chapter 7

 

“But her eyes…She gets THOSE from you.”

 

Spike sank to his knees beside the bed, every ounce of strength leaving his body as he tried to make sense of Buffy’s words.

 

No. She couldn’t mean…

 

The truth of her words hit him like a punch in the gut as he stared at the child she held.

 

Her eyes.

 

His eyes.

 

Identical.

 

His expression was incredulous. “How?”

 

Buffy rolled her eyes at him. “I really think that’s a question best answered later, when little ears aren’t around.” She bent her head over Dawns, playing with the silken curls while she avoided his eyes. “You…believe me?” she asked in a small voice.

 

Staring at the miniature, feminine version of himself, Spike had no doubts. She just favored him too much. Now that he looked past the eyes, he saw other features they shared. Her nose, a tiny button of a thing, already had that imperious aquiline arch that all of the Giles children inherited from their father, and even the babyish roundness of her cheeks couldn’t hide the fact that she was going to share his facial features. Did he believe Buffy? How could he NOT?

 

Entranced, Spike nodded mutely in reply as he moved closer to the side of the bed until he knelt at their feet. His eyes stung as he stared at the precious gift before him. She hadn’t taken her eyes from his face the entire time he was studying her and he felt broken when she smirked at him; all the secrets of the universe in that small, knowing grin.

 

“No dweam momma. Daddy here now.” She declared, as if there were no room for doubt in her mind. Totally without fear, she launched her small body into his arms, knowing that THIS daddy…REAL DADDY… wouldn’t dare to drop her.

 

Spike suddenly found himself with an armful of toddler. He gasped in shock as she cuddled as close as she could get, tucking her head under his chin in a movement that was strangely reminiscent of her mother. She was light as a feather resting in his arms, smelling of baby powder and soap with just a hint of her mother’s perfume.

 

The tiny girl yawned as she wound her arms around his neck. “Daddy home. Momma no cwy now.” She smiled angelically.

 

He met Buffy’s eyes above Dawns head, unashamed of the tears that clouded his vision at their daughter’s words. He reached out blindly, seeking the comfort of her touch. Buffy laced her fingers through his and allowed him to pull her down on the floor beside them, burying his face in her silky hair.

 

“Thank you,” he said, his voice rough as he cried.

 

Endless questions roiled inside his head but for now he was content to kneel there, both of his girl’s safe in his embrace. Through this contentment, one thought shone through with perfect clarity.

 

He would kill anyone that tried to take them from him.

 

It didn’t take much to get her settled back in her bed. Spike was a little unnerved when Dawn grinned up at Buffy and whispered, “Secwet, Momma?”

 

Buffy smiled and used her hand to mimic turning a lock over her lips. “Secret, baby. For now. Okay?”

 

Dawn made the same motion with a sleepy giggle then reached once more for her father. “Kiss me, Daddy.” She demanded imperiously.

 

Once again the flood of tender emotions almost unmanned him. He bent down and pressed a reverent kiss on her smooth brow, then rubbed her nose with his. “G’nite my princess.”

 

Feeling Buffy’s hand slip into his, he allowed her to pull him to the door, his eyes lingering on his daughter as she fought a losing battle with Mr. Sandman.

 

Silence reigned between them as they went back out onto the terrace, but it was a comfortable silence. Buffy had snagged up a decanter of Riley’s most expensive scotch and a glass. Pouring Spike a healthy portion, she watched his toss it back like it was water and hold it out for more. She complied, but capped the decanter and set it aside.

 

He sipped from the second glass, his troubled eyes never leaving her beloved face. “Where do we go from here, luv?” he asked.

 

“Wither thou goest, I will follow.” Buffy quoted, resting a soft palm on his cheek. “I would take her tonight and follow you anywhere in this world, but you and I both know that I’m not the only reason you came here, don’t we?”

 

Spike felt the impact of her words. “How did you know?” he asked. If the slightest hint of their real reason for being here got back to Finn, he would be dust and Xander would be dead.

 

“Shhh, honey.” She soothed. “Where do you think Oz got all of his information?”

 

He looked at her with grudging respect. “There was always more to you than meet’s the eye, luv.” He said, setting the empty glass down and stepping closer to her; not touching, just gazing down at her.

 

Buffy met his eyes unflinchingly. “Show me.”

 

Spike started to move back, startled by her request. “No, Buffy. It’s…”

 

“A part of you. A part I need to recognize and accept if we’re going to be together. Nothing can be done to change it or make it go away. Now…show me.”

 

With a heartfelt sigh, Spike shook his head impatiently; the grinding sound the bones in his face made as he shifted into his demon façade seemed unnaturally loud to him. He stood there, his golden eyes blazing as dared her to comment.

 

She never once hesitated. Her hands came up to drift over his face, fingertips feather-light as she inspected the ridges on his forehead. The face of his demon widened the bridge of his nose slightly and cast his cheekbones even further into dramatic relief. Buffy inspected these changes without fear. When she reached his fangs, she pressed gently, showing no reaction when one sliced her finger. Without stopping to think, she slid the injured digit into his mouth.

 

A resonant growl rumbled from Spikes throat as he sucked it clean, his nostrils flaring at the scent of her blood. When the light flow stopped, he released her reluctantly; waiting on her to say something. To say anything that would reassure him that she still saw the man behind the demon.

 

Buffy smiled and gave him what he sought. She leaned up and pressed a sweet, chaste kiss on his mouth; fangs and all. “I love you, Spike.”

 

         

Chapter 8

 

A/N**

The next two chapters are basically a flashback explaining Spike and Buffy’s first meeting and their initial reactions to each other. I wanted to do this because I thought it might give the characters a bit more depth. Both chaps are fairly long. I apologize for my loquaciousness LOL If you don’t fancy flashbacks, you can safely skip these next two chaps and still not lose the flow of the story. I do hope you read and enjoy it tho, since I had a lot of fun writing it

*smiles*

Tam~

 

 

Four little words. It amazed him that such a simple phrase had the power to make him want to drop to his knees. There was no doubting her sincerity; the truth was shining in her eyes.

 

Spike covered her hands where they rested lightly on his shoulders. Lifting them in his, he pressed a kiss to each soft palm before bringing one to his chest, placing it over his unbeating heart.

 

“When I saw you tonight it was like seeing you for the first time all over again. Remember that night?” he asked.

 

Buffy smiled at the memory. “I still say you deserved that drink in your lap.”

 

“Had to get your attention somehow, din’t I?”

 

 

New York City ~ 1923 ~ FLASHBACK

 

The noise level in the dressing room was louder than usual and Buffy felt the beginnings of a headache form behind her eyes. Beside her, Anya was carefully lining her eyelids with black khol.

 

Anya was the only one of the bunch that Buffy could tolerate for more than five minutes. They were a petty, backstabbing bunch of witches. Since her rise from waitress to performer she’d been forced to endure all manner of spiteful words and destruction of personal items, not to mention pointed innuendos about just how she had advanced to her current position.

 

“What has their asses in an uproar?” she asked Anya. It hadn’t taken her long to lose the boarding school polish from her speech. One less weapon for them to goad her with.

 

Anya stared at her reflection. “Oh, them.” She rolled her carefully made-up eyes. “Spike is back. Some of them actually think they have a chance with him. Fortunately for him, he’s not that stupid. God knows what he would catch from one of them.”

 

“Spike? Who or what is a Spike?”

 

“That’s right, you haven’t met him, have you? Giles’ son. Gorgeous specimen. Fortunately I have my Xander or I would be acting as stupid as they are. I’ve heard he’s very good at giving orgasms.” Ignoring Buffy’s blush at her choice of words, Anya finished her lipstick and got to her feet. “Come on, I’ll show him to you so you have some kind of warning and don’t act like a complete ninny when you’re introduced to him.”

 

She followed Anya to the stage curtains and waited while she scoped out the club. “Ah! There he is. Trying to corrupt Xander with the evils of alcohol, as usual. I swear if Xander can’t perform tonight, I’ll eviscerate him; Giles’ son or not!”

 

Parting the curtain, Buffy peeped out. She found Xander easily and concentrated her attention on the other man at the table. Anya was right. He was a gorgeous specimen, but looked entirely too full of himself in her opinion. She’d dealt with her fill of men like that when she lived with her father. She decided to avoid him as much as possible.

 

That decision was taken right out of her hands as Anya grabbed her and dragged her out into the club, heading straight for their table. “Anya! Wait…I don’t want to…dammit, stop!”

 

Anya skidded to a halt, hands on her shapely hips as she glared at her fiancé. “Xander Harris! Are you drunk?”

 

“Oh, leave off, pet. We just got started.” Spike Giles said to Anya. He stared at Buffy while he spoke, his insolent blue eyes roaming from her small satin shoes to her carefully upswept blonde hair. “And who might you be goldilocks?”

 

Buffy lifted her chin. She flicked him with a dismissive glance then gazed out over the dance floor with a bored expression, quite pleased that she carried it off so well.

 

As usual, Anya ruined the moment by leaping in with introductions. “Spike Giles, this is Buffy Summers. She’s one of the singers.”

 

“Buffy? That’s an unusual name, isn’t it” Spike drawled. Cute little thing. Too bad she was so young.

 

Her head whipped around and she glared at him, hazel eyes flashing. “Of course ‘Spike’ has a much classier ring to it, does it not?” she asked haughtily.

 

This one obviously needed to be taken down a peg or two, Spike thought with a smirk. “And you sing? Are you any good, or did you rise to this level of success using some other talent you might care to ‘share’ with me?”

 

Anya gasped. Xander gulped. They both watched in morbid fascination as Buffy narrowed her eyes and leaned across the table, her nose scant inches away from Spikes. “I hope you aren’t implying anything about my morals.”

 

“Didn’t know a girl in your position could afford morals.” He said, leaning back in his chair and clasping his hands behind his head in an insolent pose.

 

“Were you born this big of a pain in the ass?” She asked sharply.

 

“Well what can I tell you, baby? I’ve always been bad.” He replied, his voice ripe with innuendo.

 

Buffy straightened, having neatly swiped the full glass of scotch from in front of him. With a taunting smirk of her own she tipped it towards his lap.

 

Spike glared at her. “You don’t have the stones.”

 

“Oh, I’ve got a lot of…stones.” She smiled sweetly and dumped the iced liquor right into his lap.

 

His roar of indignation was sweet music to her ears as she sailed away with a broad smile on her face.

 

And so it began. Their first meeting set a precedent for all that followed. They couldn’t come within a few feet of each other without trading insults. Spike attacked her morals and her singing; although he had yet to hear her sing a note. He made it a point to leave before it was her turn to perform. Buffy was either icily polite to him or ignored him completely, treating him as if he were beneath her. Employees and patrons alike were enthralled by the battle that played out night after night. Bets began circulating against who would crack first.

 

One night four months into the conflict, Spike finished his drink and got up, shrugging into his leather duster. Xander rolled his eyes dramatically. “When is this going to end? I swear; I’m going to tie you two together and make you fight it out.  I might even charge admission. Anya and I could elope to some exotic locale and live on the proceeds for years.”

 

“All the ‘lady’ has to do is admit defeat. A pretty apology for the ‘drink in my lap’ incident is all I require.” Spike informed him with a smirk.

 

Xander shook his head. “I don’t get it. You know she isn’t like that. You want her so bad it’s driving you insane. Maybe if you tried a little of that famed Spike Giles charm on her you’d melt some of that ice around her heart.”

 

Spike glared at him. “You’re off your noggin, mate. Or very drunk; in which case I’m telling Anya. The girl can’t stand to breathe the same air as me. You’ve seen how she acts. If I were to die tomorrow, she would cheerfully throw the first shovel of dirt onto my grave.”

 

“Yes, I’ve seen how she ACTS. What do you expect of her when you basically call her a conniving slut without talent? Kisses of gratitude?”

 

“Look, Xander…”

 

Anya ran up to them. She clutched at Spike’s arm, her eyes wide with apprehension. “I can’t find Buffy. She’s missing. You have to help me find her!”

 

Spike shook her off. “Relax, Anyanka. Just check all the dark corners. She’s probably torturing some poor sod with her...”

 

Anya’s angry slap across his face made his ears ring. “Bloody hell, woman!”

 

“You’re too stupid to see what’s right in front of you, Spike. Buffy is my only friend and I know something bad has happened. Now, you and Xander WILL help me find her!” She thumped him in the chest with er fist to make her point.

 

“Fine!” He spat. “Just keep your bleedin’ hands to yourself. The two of you check backstage. I’ll have a look around outside.”

 

Of course it was pouring rain, Spike thought, as he stepped out the door. Bloody perfect. He looked up and down the street and checked a few empty cars. Nothing. He was about to go back inside and deal with the wrath of Anya when he heard a muffled cry from the alley beside the club.

 

There were two of them. One stood behind her, holding her arms in a punishing grip. The other held a knife, running it lightly over her face. Buffy’s eyes were wide with a mixture of terror, rage, and pain. Her coat lay on the ground and her dress was torn from her shoulder. She was crying so hard her chest heaved as she tried to suppress her sobs.

 

“Shhh, honey. We aren’t going to hurt you. This time.” The knife flicked and left a rose-red bloom that trailed down her delicate cheek. “We’re just here to deliver a message for your father. Daddy wants you back in the loving bosom of your family. It’s time to come home, Buffy.”

 

“You delivered the message. Stupid little bitch broke my nose. Now, I’m gonna have myself a little taste for my troubles.” The man holding her bent his head and licked her bare shoulder.

 

“This a private party, or can anyone join in?”  Spikes voice betrayed nothing of the seething rage inside him. He stood with his hands buried in his duster pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels.

 

“Fuck off, buddy! This is personal, private business.” The one with the knife snarled, waving his blade in Spikes face.

 

Spike caught Buffy’s panicked stare. He gave her a gentle smile. “Close your eyes, luv.”

 

With a jerky nod, she complied, squeezing her eyes tightly closed.

 

He moved so fast, they never knew what hit them. Knife-man didn’t know which to grab first; his shattered arm or his shattered scrotum. He fell into a squealing heap, gibbering in pain. His partner tried to back away, dragging Buffy along as a shield. Spike drove the heel of his hand into the already broken nose; driving shards of bone deep into his brain. He was dead before he hit the muddy ground.

 

Spike grabbed Buffy before she fell, wrapping his arms tightly around her soaked and shivering body before her legs gave way. She fisted her hands in his shirt and pressed closer, muffling her sobs in his chest. He swept her legs up and carried her over to where Knife-man was still writhing on the ground. Dealing him a vicious kick to the ribs, Spike ensured that he had the man’s undivided attention.

 

“You see this little girl, mate? She belongs to the Giles Family, now. The only reason you’re still alive is because I want you to tell that pillock you work for EXACTLY what I said. Now, get out of here.” He snarled. “And make sure you take your trash with you.”

 

With one last kick for emphasis, Spike shifted his attention to his shivering burden. “Come on, luv, settle down. It’s over.” He soothed. “Spike’s got you, baby.”

 

 

 

Chapter 9

 

 New York City ~ 1923 ~ FLASHBACK CONTINUED

 

Certain that her father would be watching her place; they decided to take her to the apartment Spike shared with Xander and Anya. It had taken over an hour with a great deal of coaxing on Anya’s part to entice Buffy into a warm bath and dry clothing. After forcing a large amount of brandy down her throat, Spike had tucked her into his bed and taken up his post in a chair beside her; keeping watch as she tossed and turned.

 

The bedside clock read half past midnight when Buffy opened her eyes. Spike, wearing only his black trousers and a pair of gold wire-rimmed glasses, was slouched in an armchair beside the bed. She had a few precious minutes to savor all that smooth skin and hard muscle before he glanced up from the book he was reading to find her staring at him. He laid his book aside and left the chair to sit on the side of the bed; reaching out to brush the still damp hair from her forehead.

 

“Feeling better, luv?” he asked. He was relieved when she nodded slightly. Picking up the glass of brandy he urged her to sit up. “Have another sip of this, pet. It’ll help you go back to sleep.”

 

Buffy sat up obediently and took a few cautious swallows as he held the glass to her lips. Satisfied, he watched as she lay back against the pillows, looking tiny and defenseless wrapped in his black silk robe. He had asked Anya for the loan of one of her nightgowns and she had looked at him like he’d suddenly sprouted a second head.

 

“Do you honestly think anything I own would be suitable for her to wear around you and your rampaging libido?” she had asked with an arch look.

 

Good point. Even bundled up in the black silk, Buffy looked irresistible. Spike felt like a complete ass for having such feelings when she was still so obviously upset, but his hormones had wised up to the fact that he had admitted defeat in fighting his attraction for her. He felt even worse when she gazed at him with those wide, trusting eyes.

 

“I’m sorry to be so much trouble.” She whispered. “I’ll have to go back. He’ll just send someone else.” Her bottom lip trembled and she picked nervously at a loose thread on his quilt. “He won’t ever stop until he gets what he wants.”

 

Spike covered her restless hands with one of his, their joined hands warm on her stomach even through the quilt. “You aren’t going anywhere. I meant every word I said to that stupid ponce that cut you. You’re part of our family now. We protect our own.” He laced her fingers through his and squeezed gently. “You have to tell me everything, though, luv. No holding back. I can’t help you if I don’t know the whole story.”

 

The mixture of hope and suspicion on her face tugged at the heart he liked to claim didn’t exist. “Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked.

 

“Because being mean hurts too much now.” One side of his mouth curved up in a quirky smile. “Everything changed for me the second I stepped into that alley and saw your face. I knew I couldn’t fight it anymore. There’s too much at stake.”

 

She sat up slowly, her eyes never wavering from his as she sought the truth in his words. Her own expression remained guarded, her voice hesitant as she spoke. “Fight what? And what’s at stake?”

 

He leaned forward slowly and pressed his lips against hers, keeping it deliberately light. “This,” he said. With another brush of his mouth; light as the brush of a butterfly’s wing, he continued. “Us.”

 

“Us?” Buffy asked her voice suddenly high and reedy as her breath caught in her throat.

 

“Mmm hmm.” Spike tunneled a hand under her hair and rested his warm palm on the moist skin of her neck, fingers circling lightly at her nape. “All the fighting and sniping at each other has just been a prelude to this. Can you feel it?

 

Coherent speech was beyond her. She could barely force herself to move her head in some semblance of agreement. Her eyelids fluttered closed as she found herself suddenly adrift in heightened sensation.

 

Spike kissed her again, running the pointed tip of his tongue over the seam of her lips. “Let me in, luv.” He demanded, nipping at the pillowy softness of her lower lip. She parted her lips and gasped as he slipped his tongue inside with a triumphant growl. He swished it lazily around inside, tasting her for the first time before coaxing her own to join in the dance.

 

Her hands came up to join behind his neck, her nails raking pleasurably over his scalp before tangling in the honey brown curls at his neck. Tightening her grip she fell back into the pillows, pulling him with her. The quilt between them became an instant irritant and she kicked it impatiently aside, her breathy sigh matched by his groan of pleasure as he settled in the cradle of her thighs.

 

Releasing her mouth, he propped himself up on his elbows, his eyes a torrid ocean of blue as he stared down at her. “Be sure this is what you want, luv.” His voice was rough against her ear. “Once we do this there’s no going back for either of us.”

 

The possessive tone of his voice touched something deep within her. Buffy pushed her fears aside, knowing on some level that she needed this; needed him, to make her whole. Never losing eye contact with him, she gave him her answer by sliding her small hands down between him to undo the buttons of his trousers.

 

Exhaling a sharp breath, he lifted himself up a bit to help her push them down far enough that he could kick them away. Catching her expression of nervous trepidation as she looked down at him, he grinned and distracted her with more bone-melting kisses.

 

“Don’t dwell on it, luv. We’ll fit perfectly together, I promise you.”

 

Wrapping his arms around her, he rolled until she was sitting on top of him; his hands pushing aside the black silk of the robe to seek the soft mounds of her breasts. She threw her head back with a hiss of pleasure as he caressed them expertly, the rough pads of his fingers pinching and rolling with just the right amount of pressure.

 

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asked, voice thick with passion. “I want to crawl inside you and make every part of you mine.” He sat up without disturbing her position on his lap and wrapped her legs around his waist. Tangling his fingers in her long hair, he tugged her close and buried his face in the fragrant hollow between her breasts.

 

Buffy moaned as his mouth moved from one aching breast to the other, licking and sucking the hard pink tips. Acting purely on instinct, she reached down and wrapped her hand around his swollen cock, stroking him firmly 

 

He lunged into her hand with a harsh cry. “Sweet Christ, luv! You’re killin’ me…” He tilted his head back, gritting his teeth against the pleasure. Tipping her sideways, he followed her down. One hand blazed a trail from her throat to the soft thatch of curls guarding her cleft.

 

Buffy tried to clamp her thighs against him, but the instant his unrelenting fingers found her clit she arched her back and let her legs fall open. With a smile of satisfaction, Spike used his thumb to torture the little bundle of nerves and eased his two longest fingers into her dripping channel. He felt her inner walls tremble as her orgasm slammed into her. Quickly pulling his fingers out, he positioned his cock and eased inside her.

 

Her cry of pain stopped him cold.

 

“Aw bloody hell, sweetheart. Why didn’t you tell me?” he groaned, dropping his sweaty forehead to rest against hers, humbled by the gift she had given him. “God, I’m such an idiot.”

 

“Shh. It’s alright, Spike. I wanted it to be you.” The pain was gone and she squeezed her inner muscles around him.

 

Spike lunged into her. “Holy Christ, Buffy!” He tried to steady his breathing. “Keep doing that and I won’t be any good to you at all.”

 

She smiled and dug her nails into his back, shifting her hips beneath him. He responded to her urging with slow, torturous thrusts. Wrapping her legs around his narrow hips, she pushed demandingly upwards, tossing her head back and forth in frustration. “Please…Oh! More, Spike. Please!”

 

“Shh, baby. Gonna make it good for you,” he murmured, holding her head still for a bruising, breath-stealing kiss. He gradually increased the strength of his movements, hanging onto his control sheer force of will. “Baby, you feel so good. Knew it would be like this. Come with me, Buffy.” He felt the fluttering begin inside her and cried out as she clamped down on him repeatedly, milking him so hard he saw stars as he spent himself inside her.

 

He pulled out of her and moved to lie at her side, hauling her limp body up against his. They kissed, slow and deep soul kisses that stirred the embers of desire inside them. Pushing her tangled hair out of her face, he smiled down at her. “My girl.” He said.

 

Buffy curled closer and kissed the spot over his heart. “Yours. Forever.”

 

 

Chapter 10

 

Sunnydale, California 1928

 

Buffy sighed blissfully, tilting her head back to allow Spike better access to her neck and shoulders. This was one of the things she had missed the most. Simply touching and kissing; talking softly and sharing the same small space.

 

Spike leaned back in the lounge chair, cradling her on his lap. One hand idly mussed her hair while the other moved over her silk covered thigh in a soothing, repetitive motion. This feeling of contentment was new and fragile, but he knew she would forgive him if he held her just a little too tightly.

 

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “What was she saying about dreaming? Did I hear that right?” he smiled. “Guess I need to brush up on my baby-talk.”

 

“She’s never seen you because I didn’t have any pictures of you. But she dreamed of you. She described you perfectly and said the angels told her that you were her daddy.”

 

Tilting his head back against the chair, he swallowed hard as he stared up at the heavens. The irony wasn’t lost to him. He was eternally damned, but his daughter dreamed of angels.

 

Since the day he had woken up at Angel and Darla’s apartment to find that he’d been turned by his friend, Spike had always harbored resentment in his heart for the dark-haired vampire for bringing him back. The year that he had been aware of Buffy’s whereabouts had been an especially rough time. Now that he had found Buffy again and met the miracle that was Dawn, he felt the last of that bitterness melt from his soul. A part of him wondered if Angel had been aware of Dawn’s existence before Buffy even knew she was pregnant. The last night they had spent with the unique couple had been a little strange; with Angel being inordinately solicitous of Buffy’s comfort and Darla smiling mistily at the blond couple.

 

Spike now felt sure he knew why. Even so early in her pregnancy, with his enhanced vampiric hearing Angel would have been able to hear Dawnie’s heart beating inside Buffy. Spike resolved to call his sire at the earliest opportunity and give him a thorough ass-reaming.

 

“Luv?” He lifted her chin, rubbing his thumb over her bottom lip. “How? We were always so careful.”

 

Buffy giggled. “How? Spike, we were going at it like bunnies! I think ‘when?’ would be a better question.” Her amusement faded. “It was Hank’s wife that helped me find out for sure.”

 

“Lilah?”

 

“Yes. I wasn’t eating, but what little she was able to force into me came right back up. When I started passing out too she was afraid that I might be having some lingering effects from when Hank clubbed me with his gun. She took me to her doctor and I found out I was about six weeks pregnant. That following weekend was the party.” She shivered and curled tighter against him, her arms sliding around his waist to anchor herself to him.

 

Searing jealousy arced through him. “So Finn thinks she belongs to him?”

 

Buffy nodded, miserably. “I’m sorry if that hurts you, but if he’d had any inkling that Dawnie wasn’t his, he would have killed her. He may seem mild tempered and…not very smart, but underneath he’s worse than Hank. She was so very tiny when she was born that it was easy to convince Riley that she came a few weeks early.”

 

Spike personally felt that Finn was too stupid to organize a gangbang in a Shanghai whorehouse. He was trying to muscle in on Giles territory, wasn’t he?

 

He was about to share this with Buffy when a blood-curdling scream shattered the night. Before Spike could even react, Buffy was up and running into the apartment. By the time he caught up with her she was scooping a sobbing Dawn up in her arms.

 

Buffy cradled her tightly against her breast, but the child kept trying to lift her head and look around the room, her eyes skittering from corner to corner. Spike could hear her heart racing and the rush of blood through her tiny body before he even entered the room. When her wide, terrified eyes lit on Spike standing in the doorway, she thrust her arms out and wailed.

 

“Daddyyy!” Dawn sobbed.

 

Giving in to the overwhelming urge to protect her, Spike sat down on the bed next to Buffy and reached for her. When Buffy resisted out of habit, he smiled gently into her distressed face. “Let me have her, luv. About time I started doing my part, don’t you think?” She returned his smile, a little ashamed of her actions, and handed the wriggling child over.

 

He cuddled Dawn close to his chest, rubbing her back soothingly. “Heeey, now. What’s wrong with Daddy’s princess? What big nasty thing made my little angel cry?” he crooned, pressing a soft kiss to her sweaty forehead. “Want to tell Mummy and Daddy all about it so we can make it go away?”

 

Spike held out his free arm for Buffy and sighed as she scooted closer, her hand going to Dawn’s head to smooth her damp curls.

 

Refusing to loosen her leach-like hold on her daddy’s neck, Dawn began a rambling account of her nightmare. “Bad man. Bad woman. Dark! Taked Dawnie away, Daddy. Momma hurt! Her cwied.”

 

They both felt a chill shudder through them at the little girl’s broken sentences. Spike frowned at Buffy. “Has she had this dream before?” he asked.

 

“Not as far as I know. It isn’t the first bad dream she’s had, but it’s taking her a lot longer to get over this one.” Buffy told him. “A bad man and a bad woman taking her away in the dark.” She clung to both of them tightly. “I’m as frightened as she is, now.”

 

“We’ll just have to be extra careful, luv.” He lifted Dawn’s head from his shoulder so he could look at her face. “Do you know this man and woman, princess?”

 

“Uh uh.” She shook her head emphatically. “No!”

 

“Shhh. Sleep now, princess. Daddy will be here to protect you.” He assured the sleepy toddler. “Let’s lay down with her for a bit, yeah?” he asked Buffy.

 

It was a tight squeeze, but since Dawn refused to relinquish her hold on her father, they were all able to curl up together on the bed. His two girls were drifting off when Spike closed his eyes. Two minutes later he was astonished to feel his demon begin to purr. Before long, it was reverberating through his chest; the light vibration soothing the two females further into slumber. Spike grinned. Yet another question for Peaches.

 

He really needed to make that call.

 

 

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

Spikes internal clock warned him that sunrise was fast approaching. Leaving the snug embrace of his two girls was torturous for him, but he was able to take comfort in the fact that he would be right across the hall if they needed him.

 

He saw Buffy stir when he tucked the covers back around them. Her thick lashes lifted and she stared up at him with sleepy green eyes.

 

“Where are you going?” she asked, frowning up at him, her voice a little rough from sleep. Her hands reached out and gripped his shirt.

 

Laughing gently at her disgruntled expression, he pressed a kiss on her forehead. “Finn will be home soon, luv. I don’t think he’d take too kindly to finding me in what he thinks is his daughter’s room with what he thinks is his woman.” He smoothed her hair back and kissed her once more. “He put Xander and me in the apartment across the hall, so I’ll be close if you or Dawnie need me. Go back to sleep, luv. I’m just a heartbeat away.”

 

Buffy smiled as she snuggled down next to their daughter and fell immediately back to sleep.

 

After dropping a feather-light kiss on Dawn’s curls, Spike shrugged into his duster and left the room. He had crossed the living area and was opening the door when he saw the picture on a side table. He picked it up and smiled when he saw Buffy and Dawn, arms around each other as they smiled joyfully at whoever was wielding the camera. Without hesitating he tucked the small silver frame inside his duster and left the apartment.

 

Xander was waiting for him in the open doorway across the hallway. He jerked his head to indicate the blinking numbers above the elevator doors. “Oz just called. The man is on his way up.”

 

“Inside, whelp. Won’t do us much good if he finds us standing here discussing him, now would it?” Spike said, sweeping past him into the apartment.

 

Dogging his heels, Xander tailed him into the living area and watched as Spike poured himself a drink. “I was getting worried. You were gone a long time, you know.”

 

Spike lifted an eyebrow at him. “I’m sorry, cupcake. You can relax your delectable sugar-buns now,” he deadpanned in a perfect imitation of their friend Lorne.

 

Xander laughed until he snorted through his nose. “That did sound rather ‘wifely’ didn’t it? Wait until I tell Lorne you were mimicking him. He’ll be…”

 

“Ecstatic.” Taking his drink with him, Spike moved to stand by the front door and listened carefully to Riley Finn’s muttered curses as he fought to unlock his door. One of his toadies obviously tried to help him because his cursing gained volume. Finally a door slammed and all was quiet.

 

Returning to the living room, Spike dropped down on the sofa. He couldn’t bring himself to relax, knowing that his woman was right across the hall. So close…yet so far.

 

Reaching inside his coat, he pulled out the photo he’d nicked and stared at it, running his thumb gently over their faces. When Xander came in and sat down across from him he wordlessly handed it over.

 

“Oh my God.” His jaw dropped as he goggled at the picture. “Another Giles clone. How the hell did this happen?”

 

“The usual way. You’ve done it yourself a few times from what Anya says,” Spike chuckled.

 

Xander pouted. “Yeah, but I’ve never gotten a pretty little dolly like this for a prize.” He studied the picture, smiling at the beautiful pair before handing it back. “Congratulations, man. She’s gorgeous,” he said sincerely.

 

There was a soft knock on the door and Xander got up to look out the peep hole. “Oz.” he told Spike, opening the door to a short, compactly muscular man. Daniel ‘Oz’ Osborne strolled in. He noticed the picture Spike held and lifted one corner of his mouth in what for him passed as a smile.

 

“I see the ante has just been upped,” he remarked, lifting an eyebrow.

 

Spike simply nodded. “Was the night a success for you?”

 

“Not as successful as yours, but the hunt went well,” Oz replied. He began to give Spike the details of all he had uncovered of Finn’s activities. Oz committed none of his findings to paper. Words on paper could be incriminating and codes could be deciphered. He preferred to rely on his exceptional memory.

 

“There’s no way I’m convinced that Finn is the brains behind this operation,” Oz said firmly. “He just doesn’t have the kind of moxie it takes to plan something of this magnitude.”

 

“Exactly what all are we talking about, Oz?” Xander asked.

 

“The Speakeasy, two houses of ill repute, and a trucking company that brings in shipments of liquor from Canada. Nothing near as big as the Giles operation, but our boy has some delusions of grandeur. Last summer in addition to his own shipments, his boys began hijacking our trucks. In October a ‘renegade’ group of vampires pushed their way into the Bronze. While the main body of the group was keeping our boys busy out front, one slipped backstage and wired up a bomb. Three of our men were killed and four patrons died later.”

 

He turned to Spike. “Most of my information on that front came from your woman. I have to tell you, man; that’s one gutsy dame.”

 

Spike couldn’t help but feel a measure of pride. It was proof that no matter how bad the past four years had been for her, Finn hadn’t managed to smother the fire inside her. The fact that she was endangering herself, however, made his insides seize up with fear.

 

“You said two whorehouses? Giles only mentioned one,” Xander mentioned with a frown.

 

Oz’s face remained its usual implacable mask. “That’s because very few know of its existence,” he said cryptically. “Not even Buffy is aware of it. I found it on my own.”

 

“Let me guess,” Spike laughed, tiredly rubbing his hands over his face and he pushed himself to his feet. “Vamp house?”

 

Xander looked nauseated. “You’re kidding right?” He looked at Oz pleadingly. “Tell me he’s joking.”

 

“Afraid he’s right, Xand. You’d be surprised at the profit the place makes. They turn people away every night.”

 

“Why? Do the vampires get tooth aches from biting too much?” The dark haired man shuddered. “That’s just wrong,” he gulped.

 

Spike laughed at his repulsed expression. In spite of having two friends that were vampires, what Xander knew about their mating behavior would fit in a thimble.

 

“A bite can be very erotic when given in the right circumstances, Whelp. Are you telling me you’ve never bitten Anya; or vice versa? Think about it.”

 

He turned back to Oz, not even attempting to hide his amusement at Xanders expense. “Is that where Finn and that dark-haired bint hared off to last night?”

 

Oz snorted. “They go there almost every night, together or on their own.”

 

“Maybe he’ll save me the trouble of killing him and get himself drained,” Spike quipped. “I need sleep. Can you wake me in a few hours, Xand? I need to find a safe phone so I can call Giles and Peaches.”

 

“I know where the closest one is, Spike. There’s a little druggist down the street that I use all the time. If you like I can make the calls for you while you get some rest.” Oz offered.

 

“Go ahead and talk to Giles; you can fill him in better than I can. The call to Angelus is personal, so I’ll take care of it.” Spike scooped the photo from the coffee table and saluted them as he headed for the bedroom.

 

“There goes a lucky, lucky man,” Xander said, his voice just a touch wistful.

 

Oz nodded. “Extremely blessed. Drink?”

 

“God, yes!”

 

 

Chapter 12

 

One moment they were sleeping peacefully, the next Buffy was torn from slumber by the sound of Riley’s voice screaming at her.

 

“What have I told you about sleeping in here?” he raged, his voice slurred. He reeked of liquor and cheap perfume. “You got a perfectly good bed in our room!”

 

Buffy placed herself protectively between Riley and a quietly sobbing Dawn. “She had a nightmare, Riley. I lay down with her to help her get back to sleep.”

 

“A nightmare?” he scoffed. “You’re turning her into a sniveling coward by babyin’ her this way, Buffy. How many times have I told you that the best way for her to get over these nightmares is to let her cry?”

 

She glared at him as she cuddled Dawnie close. “Riley, she’s only three years old. Children cry when they have nightmares. Now, please stop shouting, you’re frightening her more than the nightmare did.”

 

Weaving so badly that he almost fell on them, Riley punched her hard on the upper arm. Buffy bit back a cry of pain and curled tighter around Dawn, using her body to shield the baby.

 

“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid, you bitch!” he shouted. He was drawing back his fist again when Parker Abrams stuck his head in the door.

 

“Phone call, boss,” he said, leering at Buffy from behind Riley’s back.

 

Buffy ignored him, turning away to comfort her little girl. Dawn was staring at Riley with undisguised hatred.

 

“We’ll settle this when I come back,” Riley slurred, shaking an unsteady finger at her. “Don’t think I’ll forget about it either, missy.”

 

His grand exit was ruined when he completely missed the doorway and smacked headfirst into the doorjamb. Angry and embarrassed, he took it out on Parker. “What are you lookin’ at?” he bellowed, giving him a smart slap upside the head on his way out.

 

As soon as they were gone, Buffy met her daughter's mirth filled eyes and they collapsed against the bed in a fit of giggles.

 

“He silly, Momma,” Dawn said, climbing up her mother’s chest and squashing their noses together.

 

“Yes, sweetheart. Very silly,” Buffy agreed. She sat up, still holding the little girl close. “Want to get dressed and go see Willow?”

 

That lethal Summers bottom lip came out. “No!”

 

“No? I thought you liked Willow?” Buffy asked in surprise.

 

Dawn looked down and mumbled something.

 

“What, baby?”

 

“Wanna see my daddy,” she whispered, hanging her head so far down that her curls flopped over her face.

 

Buffy smothered a gasp and moved quickly to shut and lock the door. She hurried back to Dawn and scooped her back up, hugging her tight.

 

“Sweetheart, Daddy is a secret, remember?” she chided gently. Her heart seized with fear as she envisioned what Riley’s reaction would be if he overheard their conversation.

 

“No!” The child screamed and threw herself backwards, her flailing legs catching her unsuspecting mother in the stomach. With a startled ‘Oof!’ Buffy let her fall back onto the bed, staring in amazement as her normally angelic child began to throw a good old fashioned temper tantrum.

 

Dawn threw herself over on her stomach and began to kick and punch the bedding. Her face deepened to an alarming plum shade as she screeched at the top of her little lungs.

 

Impatient fists beat at the door. “Buffy! Shut that brat up or I’ll give her something to scream about,” Riley bellowed through the locked door.

 

Buffy undid the bolt and glared at him. “You lay a hand on her and I’ll castrate you,” she hissed.

 

“What the hell is her problem?”

 

“Oh, like you care?” She went back to the bed and tried to calm the thrashing toddler.

 

Riley covered his ears. “Thank God I have to leave. I’ll be in San Francisco for a week. Don’t go to the club. In fact, don’t go anywhere until I get back, do you hear me?” He glowered at her for good measure.

 

The screams went up several octaves.

 

“Fine, just go! You’re making her worse just by being here," Buffy insisted.

 

He wasted no time, throwing one last glare at the red-faced child as he stormed out, followed closely by his goons.

Buffy was at a loss as to how she should deal with her. “Dawnie, please!” she cried and covered her ears, fighting the urge to scream herself.

 

“I want my Daddy!” Dawn shrieked.

 

In desperation, Buffy snatched her writhing imp of Satan up. Storming through the apartment, she yanked open the front door and stomped across the hall to the opposite door and kicked it viciously.

 

Xander didn’t even have time to blink as she swept past him. Holy hell, that kid had a set of lungs! He thought. He grinned at Buffy’s grim expression and pointed down the hall. “Second door on the left,” he laughed.

 

Buffy narrowed her eyes. “Laugh again and I’ll leave her with YOU, Uncle Xander.”

 

He couldn’t back away fast enough. He made the symbol of a cross with his fingers and held them up. “Now, don’t get hasty, Buff,” he stammered.

 

“BLOODY HELL!”

 

Xander jumped, Buffy burst into tears, and Dawn promptly ceased her howling.

 

“Daddy!” she giggled, stretching out her chubby little arms for him.

 

Spike’s thunderous frown turned to amazement as Buffy marched over and dumped their child into his arms before collapsing on the sofa and burying her face in her hands while Xander beat a hasty retreat to the kitchen for some liquid refreshment.

 

“Sweetheart, what the hell is going on?” he asked, urging her over so he could sit down with her. He was still half asleep and trying to make sense of everything. One moment he had been sleeping peacefully, the next he’d been shooting up from the bed, sensing Buffy’s panic and Dawn’s rage before he even heard her screams.

 

He propped Dawn on one arm while he wrapped the other around Buffy’s shaking shoulders. “Did Finn do something to her? So help me if he touched her…”

 

Buffy sniffled and swiped at her eyes. She felt like her head was going to explode. “No, it was nothing like that. Well, he did yell a bit, but he was drunk and that made her laugh. She wanted to see you and when I tried to explain to her that we couldn’t, she started screaming and throwing the most awful tantrum. Fortunately, Riley left, so…I brought her to you,” she explained. “And no, she has never, ever done this before, so I blame you entirely!”

 

“Good enough,” he accepted the blame without demur. After pressing a quick kiss on her wet cheek, he turned to his daughter. “Shame on you, Princess. Look how you’ve upset Momma.”

 

She pouted up at him before flinging her arms around his neck. “Want you, Daddy.”

 

“And you have Daddy, poppet, but that was a very bad thing that you did. You scared Momma.”

 

Huge tears welled in her blue eyes. “I sowwy,” she sobbed, burrowing between the two of them.

 

Two crying females and both of them belonged to him. What should have sent him into a blind panic only brought a smile to his lips. Spike leaned back into the cushions and cuddled both of them close as he considered his reaction to the situation. The strength of the bond between Buffy and himself had obviously carried over to Dawn. In less than a day’s time his demon recognized the child as his and was determined to protect her at any cost.

 

When Xander dared to peek in a half hour later, Buffy and Dawn were sleeping and Spike was watching over them with a completely besotted expression. He tiptoed warily into the room.

 

“Well, that was interesting. Can’t wait till Anya decides to cave in and give me a few dozen. I can rent them out to the fire brigade for sirens.”

 

Spike chuckled. “Impressive, wasn’t it?”

 

“Which one?” Xander rolled his eyes. “I thought Buffy was going to kick my knee-caps off!” 

 

“She’s changed a lot since you knew her,” he said, running his fingers through the sunshine of her hair. “For the better, I think.”

 

Buffy swatted at him half-heartedly. “Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” she groused, frowning up at him, her eyes still heavy from her brief nap.

 

Spike stared down at her flushed face, his entire body tightening in response to the soft warmth of her weight resting against him. Moving slowly, he lay Dawn down in his spot and covered her with his duster.

 

“Xander,” he said in a carefully controlled voice. “You’re minding the baby for a few hours.”

 

With that, he swept Buffy up in his arms and stalked towards the bedroom, leaving a sputtering Xander in their wake. 

 

Chapter 13

 

His mouth was on hers before he had even kicked the door shut behind them. Ravenous. Demanding. Even a little harsh in his desperation to get that much closer to her.

 

When he reached the bed he let go of her legs, allowing her to slide down the length of him until her toes touched the floor before wrapping an arm around her waist and hauling her flush against him.

 

She moaned into his mouth, her tongue twining with his before sucking at it gently. The silk of his hard, bare chest under her fingertips was so achingly familiar that tears stung her eyes.

 

“God, I’ve missed you so much,” she breathed.

 

“Show me how much,” he demanded, his thumbs slipping under the thin straps of her pretty negligee and sliding them down her arms, baring the soft globes of her breasts to him.

 

A momentary flash of self-consciousness caused her to draw back and lift her arms up to hide them from his gaze. Motherhood had wrought changes in her body that she wasn’t sure he would find attractive.

 

Spike was puzzled by her nervousness. Not even when she had gifted him with her virginity had she been this skittish. He rested a hand on her neck and braced his thumb under her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.

 

“Buffy? What is it, luv?”

 

“It’s just…Can’t I keep the gown on?” she pleaded.

 

Realization dawned. “Do you honestly think I’ll be bothered by a few insignificant changes in your appearance?” he chided gently.

 

He sat down on the edge of the bed and grasped her wrists lightly, tugging her arms down in spite of her half-hearted protests. Staring at her breasts, he noted the changes she had tried to hide from him. They were fuller, but still sat high and proud on her chest. The nipples were no longer a blushing, virginal pink; instead they were a deep rose color. They tightened instinctively under the heat of his gaze.

 

Mesmerized, Spike drew her closer, moving their clasped hands behind her to rest at the base of her spine, causing her to arch her back slightly. Slowly, reverently, he leaned forward to nuzzle the plump mounds before stretching out his long, wicked tongue to curl around one pebbled tip and draw it between his lips.

 

Buffy groaned softly, her head falling back on her neck as her eyes drifted closed. This. Oh, how she remembered this.

 

He lavished her breasts with lips, teeth, and tongue, dividing his time equally between them and building up a slow burn in her belly.

 

“So beautiful,” he murmured against her flesh. “So soft and warm.”

 

He released her hands so he could grip her hips; widened to a womanly flare instead of girlishly narrow. His mouth left her breasts and left a trail of fire down the center of her chest and belly. The red silk of her gown clung to her hipbones and he pushed at it impatiently until it slithered down her legs to pool at her feet.

 

Spike circled his tongue around the small indentation of her naval before sliding his arms around her thighs and rubbing his face against the soft skin of her stomach.

 

“I wish I could have been here to see you full of our baby,” he lamented softly, his hands moving up and down the smooth skin of her back and bottom. “I’ve missed out on so much.”

 

She cradled his head against her, running her fingers through his hair. “Shh…you’re here now. Don’t dwell on the past, just love me,” she said, feeling him smile against her skin.

 

Sliding one hand up her inner thigh, he felt her muscles quiver as she tensed in anticipation of his touch. A moan of aching need burst from her as he parted her with his fingers, stroking her slick warmth from front to back while avoiding the pouting little nub that screamed for his attention.

 

Buffy’s hands flew to his shoulders, gripping them tightly as she sought to anchor herself. Pushing insistently, she pressed him back onto the bed, following him down. His fingers never stopped their torturous ministrations and his mouth added to the sensual torment by nipping and sucking at the plump breasts that brushed his face as she braced herself over him.

 

Mewling her appreciation, she skimmed the flat of her hand down his stomach to wrap around his pulsing erection, squeezing and stroking; knowing just how he liked to be touched. His hoarse groans imbued her with a long-forgotten sense of power.

 

An unexpected twist of his body left her flat on her back, gasping at his sudden show of strength. He buried his face in her shoulder and shuddered against the unrelenting movements of her small hand.

 

“We’re gonna be over before we start if you keep that up, luv,” he rumbled, lifting his head to blaze a path of fiery kisses along her jaw.

 

A low, purring laugh was his answer as she reciprocated his move, ending with a sucking bite to the point of his chin. She parted her legs, humming her pleasure as his hips settled between them. Nudging his fingers aside, she swept the velvety head of his cock through her wet folds and circled it against her clit; grunting through clenched teeth as she arched upwards with each pass over the taut bundle of nerves.

 

Spike threw his head back, his brow furrowed and nostrils flared as he exhaled a slow, hissing breath, fighting to control the demands of his body. His hips jerked as she guided him down and pressed him against her entrance, tilting her pelvis until the tip breeched her scalding channel.

 

“Fucking hell, Buffy,” he rasped. His arms shook with the effort of holding himself away from her.

 

Her hands kneaded the muscles of his back as she ran her tongue down his throat and chest to lave the flat coppery discs of his nipples. A wicked grin curved her lips as she shamelessly manipulated him, knowing from past love-making that this was one of his strongest erogenous zones.

 

“Spike…need you inside me, baby.” She licked a path from one side to the other, worrying the hard nub of sensitized flesh between her small teeth. Skimming her palms down his spine, she reached the tight globes of his bottom and sank her nails into him. “Make me forget that he ever touched me,” she begged.

 

A vicious, predatory growl ripped from his chest as he fisted one hand full of her hair and jerked her head back. His mouth voraciously consumed hers as he drove into her, his first thrust carrying her unresisting body up the bed.

 

Her exultant wail was muffled by his lips. Pleasure and pain warred in a dizzying vortex within as he filled her, stretching her to accommodate his girth. She dug her knees into his ribs as her body clenched around him, the forceful entry just what was needed to detonate the climax that had been building within her since his first touch.

 

Riding out her orgasm, he forced his way through her spasming walls and set a slow, deliberate pace that had her pleading brokenly for more. A faint whiff of blood teased his sensitive nostrils and roused the demon inside him. A flash of remorse for hurting her with his harsh entry had him slowing even further, but she would have none of it. She worked her inner muscles ruthlessly around him, squeezing and releasing as she undulated against him.

 

“Like that…so good…God, baby…so bloody perfect,” he murmured the litany of praise into the hollow of her throat as his hands tightened  possessively around her hips, his body taking hers with a savage hunger that stole her breath.

 

Feeling her tightening around him once more, he slid one hand under her bottom and lifted her up to meet his powerful thrusts, grinding his pelvic bone into her clitoris while he searched out the secret place inside her slick channel. Finding it, he worked her relentlessly inside and out until she fell apart in his arms once more.

 

He slowed again, giving her a few moments to calm her racing heart and ragged breathing while he gazed down at her, his eyes flashing from midnight blue to fiery amber as he sought the perfect spot on her smooth throat.

 

She felt the pull of his stare, opening slumberous eyes to meet the flickering demon in his. Buffy instinctively tilted her head to the side in open invitation, her eyes never leaving his as she silently replied to his unvoiced question.

 

Spike’s fingers tangled in the wild mane of her hair as he began to move once more, thick and hard within her, creating incredible friction and slick, hot need. His mouth tasted the satiny skin of her throat, finding the thrum of her pulse unerringly. Feeling his body tighten as he neared his own release, he called his demon forth. Laving the chosen spot with the roughness of his tongue, he lost himself in the intoxicating scent of blood and vanilla that clung to her skin and bit down.

 

Buffy met the first swallow he took of her blood with a soundless scream of ecstasy. Each shallow pull that followed brought another wave of pleasure so intense that she could only sob his name in a broken voice and cling to his shoulders, tears streaking her face.

 

She tasted of heaven; like sunlight and summer meadows flowing over his tongue. His skin prickled deliciously and every muscle tensed in anticipation. It swept over him in a blinding rush.

 

“MINE!” He howled his release against her moist flesh, driving his cock as deeply into her as he could get, his plunges weakening as he emptied himself inside her.

 

Her hands slid up to cradle his head closer. “Yours,” she affirmed, twining her fingers in the soft curls at his nape as she cuddled him to her.

 

He collapsed against her, carefully withdrawing his fangs and closing the wounds with his tongue. He shifted to his side so he wouldn’t crush her beneath him, keeping snug inside her as he pulled her along with him. Supremely content, he lapped lazily at the marks, smiling as she jerked and sighed with each pass that his tongue made over it.

 

“Love you,” she sighed, her body soft and limp with exhaustion as she rested against him.

 

“Love you, sweet baby. Rest now,” he urged gently, tucking her head under his chin, and closing his own eyes. He breathed in the fragrance of her hair as he drifted off to sleep

 

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