Monster in Her Man

by Spikesdeb

Sequel to Have to Have You

Chapter 1

Buffy drifted into wakefulness and stretched languorously… mmm she felt wonderful, so relaxed and boneless, like she’d had ten hours’ uninterrupted sleep.  She turned on her side and encountered…Oooh, Spike skin.  

She smiled, remembering last night and exactly how good that skin had made her feel – not to mention the rest of him.  Bell-ringing good.  In fact he’d rung her bells so loud and so long – and in ways she’d never dreamed existed – that spectacular wouldn’t be an exaggeration – no, make that Spiketacular.  She hugged herself in glee.  She ought to be blushing with shame but no way!  It felt good.  More than that, it felt right.  He felt right. 

The ‘he’ in question stirred, pouting when he noticed the drop in heat caused by her moving away from his side.  He muttered, half-asleep. 

“Buffy…whassat…where’d you go…” 

One eye opened, its blue gaze fixing on her.  She was still there.  Flushed and tousled from sleep -- she was still there.  Her hair rested on his outstretched arm.  She was still there.  Spike’s mind refused to let go of those four words, repeating them like a mantra against her suddenly up and leaving.  

“Hey,” she smiled at him, leaning in to bestow a soft kiss on his open lips.  “Mmmmorning!” 

He returned her kiss gently, bringing his arms to wrap around her but moving oh so slowly so as not to startle her.  Had she really spent the night there?  The evidence of his eyes told him that she had.  

“Erm…mornin’, pet.  Sleep well?” 

“Like the dead.  Ooops!   Sorry…you know what I mean!” 

Spike laughed, rumbling against her chest.  “S’okay, pet.  I do sleep well.  Not a word of a lie…” 

Buffy giggled at him, astounded at how good she felt.  She hadn’t slept so soundly in…well, forever.  Certainly lying next to Riley’s bulky fever-hot body all she felt was swamped and sticky.  And he made noises, like a stuck pig.  Maybe it was because Spike was all…cool and calming, serene; he didn’t breathe so he didn’t snore; didn’t squirm around the bed because when he slept he was, well kinda like… dead.  And it felt alarmingly good. 

And of course there was the whole waking up to Mr Breathtakingly Irresistible thing.  That didn’t hurt. 

Buffy’s eyes widened as he bent towards her, swallowing and moistening her lips in anticipation. Her vision became filled with sharp cheekbones, deep blue eyes locked on hers and smouldering with lust.  Oh boy oh boy!  Yup, waking up with Spike – definitely in the ‘really good things to do’ column.  His lips whispered over hers, his tongue teasing at the corners of her mouth enticing her to open up.  She happily did so and he was quick to suck her tongue between his teeth, nibbling on its surface.  Of its own volition, Buffy’s leg came up to rest over Spike’s thigh, moist curls brushing her wetness onto his skin and wafting a delectable aroma of excitement. His kiss grew wilder, more frenetic, as he pressed himself closer to her naked body, Buffy’s breathing coming in ragged gasps as she struggled to stay calm. 

But calm hadn’t a hope in hell, not with the gorgeous vampire presently rubbing his thick cock along her wet opening.  A strangled scream made it past her lips as cool fingers circled her throbbing clit, squeezing almost painfully so that she bucked towards him.  The forward motion of her hips drove him into her, the girth of his erection stretching her in ways so unbearably pleasurable that she whimpered against his mouth, biting down on his lip as he started to move. 

“God, Buffy…so perfect…” 

Spike moved carefully, his delight in the unexpected love of his dreams actually being in his bed, and real this time, had him in danger of heading straight for an early spurty.  If she moved one millimetre to the right he’d be a goner, shooting his load like some spotty teenager.  The things she could do to him by just being… 

Buffy was already cranked up to imminent meltdown, aching for release, needing more pace, more thrust, more penetration and wasn’t beyond begging him for it, little kitten mewls of need.  She wanted…something more… 

Spike’s hips slammed into hers, pressing her into the mattress; his fingers digging into her skin hard enough to leave bruises.  He’d been waiting his entire existence for this feeling of completeness and he was not going to let it go.  Desperation fuelled his movements and he leant forwards to rest fully against her, wanting to feel all of her along his body. 

Buffy’s legs were clamped around him, her ankles crossed as she levered herself against his thrusts so he could get deeper inside her.  Every plunge made her whimper, eyes rolling back as she hit ecstasy overload.  Nothing had ever felt this good before, ever.  She knew it would come to an end… but not yet…not yet…so close… 

She felt the movement at her neck as his fangs elongated, grazing her skin as he gasped against her.  She shivered, a little scared at how much she liked it despite her calling, her sacred duty to loathe everything that he was.  And ok, yeah, she shivered mostly from pleasure.  Spike raised his head from her delectable throat; leaning up on his elbows as he gazed down at her flushed face with golden eyes.  “‘M sorry…you just…god, Buffy, you make me lose it!  Didn’t mean to freak you out.” 

Tentatively she reached up and caressed his ridged brow, bringing her fingers round to circle first one then the other sharpened canine.   She smiled at him as she dragged his face down to hers, whispering against his lips. 

“You didn’t, Spike.  I freaked me out – because this, with the fangs and the biting?  It should terrify me, but it doesn’t.  Can’t you tell how much I want you…need you -- all of you?” 

Buffy licked along his lips, her tongue stroking inside his mouth to rasp across his teeth.  A strangled growl rumbled in his throat as he crushed his mouth to hers, nicking her lips in his efforts to kiss her unconscious.  The tang of her blood as it mingled on their tongues zapped through them both, Spike’s cock hardening painfully in her suddenly sodden passage.  Buffy bit down hard on his tongue as it twirled around hers, drawing his blood.  God, the taste of him!  Salty, kinda sweet too – every bit of him was delicious! 

Buffy flipped him to his back, thanking the Powers That Be for the Slayer strength that allowed her to do it effortlessly; he was still buried deep within her and she started rocking against him immediately.  Sitting back on her haunches she shook her head, her hair cascading down her back and her breasts jutting forwards into his eager hands.  Spike caressed her, running his thumbs over and around her sensitive nipples and twisting the hardened peaks.  With a gasp of pleasure she brought her hands up to cup his, eyes closed as she lost herself in the feelings he awakened in her.  

His deep, rumbling voice cut through her lust-addled haze. 

“No, Buffy…look at me…” 

Eyelids fluttered open to take in the stunning perfection of his face, eyes now blue and fixed on hers as he slowed his bucking hips.  “Want you to look at me, love, want to see your eyes when you… come.” 

Just those words sent her careening over the edge, the command implicit in his tone.  Come.  

Buffy’s orgasm hit her hard, her little gasps giving way to throaty cries as she fell forwards to grip his shoulders and bite down, hard, on his neck.  Spike roared as he ejaculated at her bite, the intense pleasure that flooded him making him dizzy.  His ears buzzed as Buffy flopped against his chest, the sweat from her overheated body running off her to pool between them where they touched.  

He couldn’t lose this miracle.  Lose her.  This was only a hint of what they could have together and he bloody well wasn’t going to let her walk away. 

Gently, he slid from underneath her and settled her at his side, delighted that she curled around him, draping herself over his naked body and nuzzling his neck.  With a contented sigh she whispered against his ear.  “Can we just stay here?” 

Spike simply smiled and kissed her hair, smoothing the silky strands until she drifted back off to sleep. 

If only they could. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Riley was pissed off.  Where the hell had Buffy got?  He’d been round to the Magic Shop, to Willow’s dorm, hell he’d even been to Xander’s, but nobody had seen or heard from her since the night before.  Willow said she’d gone to the library to study then was going to see her mom and have a girly night.  But Joyce hadn’t heard from her either and now he had the guilt of worrying her mother to deal with too. 

He was getting sick and tired of being left out of the loop.  Since the Dracula incident Buffy had been distracted and uninterested most of the time, and jumpy when he touched her.  He got the feeling that even when she was with him she wasn’t really with him.  And what the hell was with the sleazy sex she wanted to try – for fun, for god’s sake?  Wanting to be on top, for him to…lick her…?  They’d been doing great as they were and out of the blue she gets down on her knees and wants to… well, nibble on his manhood!  He knew what that was all about, of course, but couldn’t help thinking it was way too scuzzy for him.  After forcefully pressing her back on the mattress and looming over her, she finally got the message and things had returned to normal.  Kind of... 

He was convinced it was all to do with Dracula and vampires and biting.  Well, it was going to stop.  No woman of his was going to act like some kind of slut and it was time he put her straight about a few things.  As soon as he found her… 

+++++++++++ 

Buffy sat bolt upright as she heard banging from the upper crypt.  Spike slept on, his unmoving body moulded to her side.  Footsteps echoed off the stone walls, then a voice. 

“Spike?  You in here?  I need information and you’ll have some answers, if you know what’s good for you.” 

Riley!  Here!  In Spike’s crypt!  And since when was he the boss of Spike? 

Buffy looked down at herself, stark naked and clasping a sheet to her chest.  Fat chance of hiding the scratches and bite marks that peppered her skin.  Crap!  There was no escape from this one; and if Riley saw her now, he’d jump to all the right conclusions.  

Spike woke as he sensed her distress and felt the lack of body where she’d peeled herself from his side.  Sitting up, the silken sheet slid down his chest to pool in his lap; he cocked his head at the sounds of the invader to his crypt upstairs.  Buffy was still clutching at the sheet, her heart racing in panic.  

“What’s up, love?” 

“It’s Riley!” she hissed through gritted teeth.

Spike went through a range of emotions; at first he grinned at the thought of the soldier boy finding him here, in flagrante delicto, with the Slayer all hot and soundly shagged.  Then came the ‘oh bugger’ as he realised that if Captain Courageous decided to pound on him there was sod all he could do to defend himself.  Finally, he settled on the ‘oh fuck it, bring it on’ attitude and relaxed back on the bed, pulling Buffy’s warm and delectable body with him. 

“No, Spike! It’s Riley!  What we gonna do?” 

She pushed weakly at his chest, melting as he ran his hand along her side, cupping the underside of her breast and brushing his fingers across her nipple. “First things first…” he murmured.  Her mouth opened as she gasped for air and he took full advantage, slipping his tongue inside to sweep across her teeth and crushing her lips with his.  She marvelled at how his lips could be so soft and yet so firm at the same time – oh and that tongue...  Instantly she was lost in him, her hands fluttering in his hair, across his back, gripping his butt and pulling him towards her.  Gone was any semblance of restraint as her body took control.  Spike rolled her onto her back, surged inside her and she was lost.  Riley could come and watch if he wanted, but there was no stopping now.  No - she was entirely consumed by her feelings for the vampire presently fucking her six ways from Sunday. 

She stifled a gasp of pleasure by biting down on his neck; Spike growled against her throat and her pulse skyrocketed.  Who’d have guessed she had a Bite-me Buffy hidden away inside her?  God, if anything she ought to be in slayer overdrive at the first hint of a fang.  But no -- here she was, open-mouthed and open-legged, in adoration.  And Riley… sorry but he’d missed the boat! 

Orgasm on the horizon and Buffy’s eyes glazed with the pleasure accelerating through her.  She almost missed the horrified Riley face dipping down to look into the lower crypt.  It didn’t matter; nothing did other than the feelings Spike awoke in her.  Unable to stifle the cry of pleasure as Spike thrust into her and simultaneously pierced the skin of her neck, Buffy wrapped her legs around his hips and locked him to her as she climaxed hard, fingers gripping the cool skin of Spike’s back and leaving half-moon indents along his flesh.  

Reality flooded back quickly as Spike was roughly torn from her embrace to land in a heap of naked flesh on the cold stone floor.  

“What the fuck are you doing, Spike?” 

Riley stood astride the vampire’s body, fists clenched and face red with fury.  Buffy was frozen where she lay on her back, neck bleeding where fangs had been ripped away from her.  She propped herself up on her elbows to watch the outcome of the pissing contest.  She had a favourite combatant; but he wasn’t from Iowa and that knowledge paralysed her.  She was feeling apprehension at potential hurt, and she knew that if it came down to it she’d jump in to protect the vampire. 

Wow.  Gulp City.  

That had sneaked up on her out of nowhere: when had she moved from ‘Hot horny vampire, Buffy want’ to ‘keep your meaty hands off my...’ what?  What was he to her?  This was all too much. 

Spike knew mortal danger when he saw it.  The soldier boy was well capable of ripping off his head with his bare and oversized hands.  And he was helpless; chipped and gelded. Time seemed to slow as Riley drew back a fist to start the assault…and it never came.  The soldier looked down to where his fist was straining against a force stopping it from connecting with the vampire’s face.  Fingers.  Small, strong fingers gripping his fist in a steely snare.  

“Buffy!  Let go…He’s got to pay for messing with you…” 

Blue eyes met hers before the lids descended to shroud them from her view.  Spike couldn’t bear to watch as she backtracked away from the intimacy they’d shared, right back into the arms of the hulking creep.  No, he’d close his eyes and remember her glorious beneath him – that’s the moment he’d be in as he dusted.  

Buffy maintained her crippling grip on Riley’s fist.  Seeing Spike close his eyes against her hurt more than she’d care to admit; as if she could let Riley harm him.  After all, she’d come to Spike, not the other way round.  And against a human, Spike was defenceless. 

“No.  Riley, I’m sorry.  But that’s not gonna happen.” she uttered softly. 

Riley turned to her, sneering.  “No?  Did you say ‘no’?  You haven’t forgotten how to say no then?  Look at you – covered in bites and scratches like a two-bit whore.  I’m ashamed to call you my girlfriend, Buffy.” 

A beat. 

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t.” 

Spike opened his eyes.  Buffy still had Riley’s fist immobilised in her smaller hand and was a vision of determination standing wrapped in his bed sheet, hair all tousled, lips swollen from kissing.  Had she really just said what he thought she’d said? 

“What?” 

“I said, Riley, that maybe you shouldn’t call me your girlfriend.  Hell, maybe it’s for the best anyway.  If I disgust you, walk away.  Oh wait…I let you dust Spike and poof, no more whore?  Nice.  Leave now.” 

The downed vampire couldn’t help the grin from stealing over his face.  This was a right treat! Not only was he not a big pile of dust but he was also going to be witness to the shooting down of the big tin soldier.  Awesome. 

“What, leave you to this…freak?  Is that all you’re good for, Buffy?  Becoming a vampire’s slut?  Again?  I guess Dracula wasn’t enough for you.” 

The sound of her fist connecting with his face bounced off the walls of the crypt.  Riley’s cheek bore the stark white outlines of her knuckles; Buffy’s hands were now up across her mouth, her face a mask of horror. 

“Riley…I… I’m sorry…” 

“Forget it.  It’s good to know exactly what you want.  Frankly, after all that weird stuff you wanted to try lately, it’s a relief -- I wouldn’t touch you with somebody else’s.  I thought you were something special, Buffy, but boy did I get it wrong.  You’re beneath me.  In fact you’re welcome to each other – two disgusting monsters wallowing in filth.” 

Buffy’s eyes glittered hard.  “Is that right?  Riley, you are so wrong about me.  And about Spike -- that ‘monster’ is more of a man than you could ever be.  I’m glad you’ve found out about us, saves me the trouble of making up a sob story to spare your feelings.  Now, if you don’t mind…” 

“Oh, don’t worry.  I’m leaving.  But the next time I see him,” he pointed to the bemused figure of Spike lounging on the floor, “will be the last time he looks on this world.” 

“Oh, just try it, you pillock!” 

“Spike, leave this to me.  Riley, I think you should go, and if you lay a hand on him I’ll make you hurt in places you can’t even imagine.  Maybe I am a monster, but I’m finally starting to see that normal is never going to work for the Slayer.  I’m beneath you?  That’s a laugh.  You wouldn’t know what to do with the real me.  Remember the workouts?  I said I might have held back a little?  Well I held back a lot; otherwise you’d still be in a hospital bed.  And the sex?  It was nice, mostly, but did it have to be so hup, two, three, four, all the time?   Jeez, it was like following military orders!  I’ve had more orgasms with Spike in the last ten days than you could give me in …ten years.   Never wonder why I’d jump out of bed and disappear to the bathroom after our ‘lovemaking’ as you called it?  Wasn’t the electric toothbrush working overtime.  You just don’t cut it.” 

Spike started to clap lazily, “Nice speech, love.” 

“Shut up!” both Riley and Buffy yelled at him. 

“This is priceless, Buffy.  The vampire slayer can only get off when boning the walking corpse she should be dusting?  It’d almost be funny if it wasn’t so warped.  Oh, I’m going, don’t worry.  I don’t want to be any part of this perverted sideshow.  But remember…watch your back, Hostile 17.” 

Riley sauntered over to the ladder and began his ascent.  Buffy raged at the bottom, pacing against the sheet wrapping itself round her legs.  As his feet disappeared through the hole in the floor, she shuffled over to the bottom of the ladder and screamed after him.  

“And by the way, Riley…size does matter, also it’s not okay to omit the foreplay because you’re too tired and no…I don’t get off on the smell of your ARMPITS!” 

With a flounce she turned back to see Spike bent double howling with laughter. 

“Now, that, pet, was bloody funny!”  

“Glad you think so.  But be serious, Spike, he’s out to do you damage.  And you with your handicap; I’m worried what he’ll do.” 

Spike got to his feet, glib comment dying on his lips.  He prowled over to where she stood gripping the sheet in front of her.  

“Hey, pet.  Shhhhh.  Don’t you fret about me.  I can take care of myself you know.  Been doin’ it for years.  Let him bring it on, I’m ready.” 

“But you’re not; what can you do – he’s human, Spike.  As in, the type of thing you can’t fight.  And much as I’d like to, I can’t be here always….” 

Softly.  “You’d like to…?” 

She looked at him then, his eyes sapphire blue and shining with unshed tears.  Gulp.  With one step she was back inside his embrace and all was well with the world. 

“Spike…I don’t know what’s happened to me.  I need you…every second of the day I need you.  If I’m not touching you, I’m thinking about you.  What is it, why am I feeling this way?” 

“Well, pet – I am devastatingly handsome and bloody sexy…but yeah, I see your problem.  See thing is, you’ve always thought of yourself as a home-grown American girl – all blond and bouncy, Miss Mom’s Apple Pie.  And you are, that’s true.  But you’re also descended from this ancient power and in some ways nature overrules your nurture…and what all.  There’s a darkness inside you…ah ah ah…don’t be so quick to jump down my throat, love.  I’ll bet Drac saw that in you, wanted to show you the way to the dark path.  Don’t you know he ‘yearns for you, he has searched for you’ … if you didn’t catch the speech, you didn’t miss much.  But he’s right, he probably has been yearning for you; the demon inside of us is drawn like to like, and much as you want to deny it, the Slayer part of you is closer to being a demon than you think.” 

“No, that can’t be right.  Giles would have told me…I’m not a demon…” 

“No, pet, you’re not.  But you’re not entirely human either.  Did you never wonder where your power came from?  I’ve tasted you, love.  I recognise the source.  We’re the same, Buffy.  Vampires are hybrids – human and demon combined; sometimes the demon is stronger and the human characteristics don’t stand a chance against it.  But occasionally – and yours truly stands here as proof positive – the humanity is able to imprint some measure of control over the demon.  Yeah, you’ve only got a sliver of demon, but it’s in there.  That’s why Captain Stouthead didn’t cut it for you.  You need a little monster in your man.  I’ve always thought it.  Let me be that monster.” 

There was silence.  Buffy was struggling with the thought of being the very thing she fought against; was he right?  Could it be true?  Spike, on the other hand, was kicking himself for overwhelming her with his thoughts.  But he’d spent a lot of time since the beating Drac’s goons gave him, sitting alone in his crypt and wondering why his every waking and even unwaking notion was awash with the Slayer. It just slipped from his lips without him being in control.  Never was a hesitant vamp… 

“I…I have to go, Spike.  I should have been at Mom’s for dinner last night and she’ll be worried.  I’ll be back later, I promise.  I just need to think things through.” 

Gently, Buffy placed a tender kiss on his lips, one hand stroking down the angular planes of his cheeks and coming to rest on the back of his neck as she warmed his flesh with hers.  Spike relished the feel of her, storing up every moment against the possibility of this being the last time. 

And even if it was, it had been worth it. 

“It’s ok pet; don’t fret.  I’ll be here when you come back.  Really, there’s nowhere else I want to be...” 

Buffy stroked his face lovingly, heart aching as she saw his eyes close and he leaned his cheek into her waiting palm.  He was so beautiful, long lashes shadowing his cheek, lips full and moist and begging to be kissed.  She had to go, before she fell into his bed again. 

Spike felt the air swish as she moved away from him.  He couldn’t watch as she dressed, not knowing if this would be the last time he’d see her without a stake in her hand.  The things she’d said, things she’d done – it made him too hopeful for their future together, but stacked against that was their shared history – and it didn’t bode well.  

He heard the creak of the ladder as she started to ascend.  He kept his gaze averted, finding something of great interest at his feet.  

“Spike.  Believe in me…I am coming back.” 

Then she was gone.

************************************

Chapter 1

As Buffy emerged from the darkness of Spike’s crypt, she was distracted by thoughts of the events of the last 24 hours.  She walked hesitantly, steps slowing then speeding up as she sifted through the thoughts running through her head.  She didn’t hear the approaching demons until it was too late, and she was bundled up in the net they’d thrown over her and knocked unconscious.  

++++  

Spike was itching for nightfall, desperate to have at least the option of going to find her if she didn’t return.  Didn’t mean he would, of course, just meant he could – if he wanted to.   He could just picture her, all snuggled up with the Scoobies right about now, glossing over the hours spent with him and inventing some yarn about how Riley and she had exchanged words – loud ones.  Hell, she could even be planning on repairing that joke of a relationship, though it’d take some patching up.  But Buffy could do anything she put her mind to.  She was exceptional… and she was his goddess.  

He’d just dropped down to the lower crypt searching for his cigs and bourbon for a bit of anaesthetic when he heard the door upstairs open.  He couldn’t stop the grin from stealing across his face.  Yeah, he knew she’d be back, once bitten by the Big Bad, she couldn’t help herself.  Spike bounded up the ladder like an overgrown puppy – only to skid to a halt when he saw who the visitor was.  

“Watcher.  What brings you to the dark side?  Kiddies playing up and you fancied some adult company?”  

“I’d hardly call you…no, Spike.  Much as I enjoy our verbal sparring, I haven’t the time.  Have you seen Buffy at all?”  

Buffy.  She was missing…  His heart sank to his boots.  

“Not since this…since last night; she stopped by to threaten me with violence, you know the usual thing.  But not since then…is she in trouble?”  

Giles was slightly taken aback by the undertone of panic in the vampire’s voice.  Odd.  He’d have to look into that, but later, when he’d assured himself that Buffy wasn’t in danger.  

“Well, that’s the thing, Spike, I wish I could tell you.  All I know is she didn’t go home last night and she was supposed to be dining with her mother – who incidentally is completely beside herself because Riley woke her when he couldn’t find Buffy.  Willow ’s not seen her since yesterday afternoon when they visited the Espresso Pump.  And Xander has apparently been too busy with Anya to even notice her absence.  Suffice it to say, it’s very unusual behaviour, even for her.”  

Spike reached for a cigarette, hands trembling.  This wasn’t good.  She’d left soon after sun up and should have been snuggled under the covers with Mr Gordo for a couple of hours before school started.  Where was she?  

“Tell you what, Giles, I’ll head out and hit the demon bars, see what I can come up with.  Need about another ten minutes or so before sunset.  ‘Course, you’ll owe me…”  

“Oh naturally -- heaven forbid you’d actually help for altruistic reasons.”  

“Vampire here, Watcher.  You keep forgetting I’m evil down to my little toes -- besides, need a few quid to curry favour.  Find myself temporarily embarrassed in the cash department.”  

It was the truth; digging up all of his readies to get Drac out of Sunnydale had wiped him out.  And being as how he’d spent the last ten days healing, he hadn’t even been able to play cards to try and recoup.  Wasn’t going to tell Watcherman that though, no.  Until – or more like if, to be honest - Buffy came clean about them, he’d better stick to his usual MO.  

“So.  What cash have you got on you?  Not gonna get very far in the demon bars with a screw cap off a bottle of JD.”  

Giles tutted, digging into his pockets for notes.  He came up with $37 and change.   

“Here.  But I want a receipt.  And don’t forget, Spike, you’re there to find out about Buffy, not to buy blood for your boozing buddies.”  

Spike nodded in acknowledgement, turning away to hide his eyes.  Not like he had any mates anyway, not since he started helping the Slayer.  And that was fine with him.   

“Right then.  Best get ready.  Don’t let the door hit you on the way out, Watcher.  I’ll be in touch if I find anything out.  You’ll let me know if I’m off the leash, yeah?  If she comes back?”  

Spike tried to keep his voice even, but still Giles wondered at the tone.  It was almost as if he was bothered, personally bothered, that Buffy was missing.  Must be the acoustics in the crypt.  Couldn’t be anything else, surely.  

Shaking his head at the peculiar turn his thoughts were taking, Giles made his way out, closing the door behind him with a clunk.  

Alone now, Spike was seriously freaking.  He raced to his weapons chest… what to take…  Until he knew where she was and what had her, he didn’t know what he’d need.  He settled on a couple of stakes, the crossbow, and his rifle.  Stashing some ninja stars and a knuckle-duster in his pockets, he checked the sun situation and headed out.  First stop Willy’s.  

As he made his way across town, he conducted an internal debate.  What the fuck was he doing?  It was likely that Buffy was off telling Captain Cardboard that she’d had a hex put on her or something, and by now they’d be having a celebratory shag.  Yeah – that’d be right.  And the sorry sod would be so magnanimous about forgiving her too.  But he knew, somehow he knew that things were not right with his girl.  They’d swallowed each other’s blood, and something had happened as the nectar of her Slayer blood slid down his throat.  He’d tasted his own blood on her lips, weak as water in comparison to the fine wine of hers, and something sizzled along his spine when their eyes met.  They’d connected; he could feel her – not like a claim, nothing that overt and certainly not enough to locate her, but a sense of her -- enough to know that she was uneasy and angry, wherever she was.   

He flung the door of Willy’s Bar open and strode in like he owned the place, weapons carried carelessly in his hands.  He didn’t belong now, not really, but he still had enough of the Big Bad vibe going on for him to cause a number of imbibers to scoot away from his leather-clad form – some even sidling out the door.  There was a sibilant hiss running around the room in his wake; Spike amused himself by growling and flashing the fangs just to see if he got a reaction.  The hissing stopped.  Dropping the game face, Spike glared at the row of assorted demons sitting at the bar.  Eventually one young and particularly nervous Skalath demon slinked off the stool, tripping over his tail and third leg as he went.  Spike took the seat, snagging the remains of the drink left in front of him.   

The demons to his left and right tried to put a safety zone between them and him without making it obvious.  Yep, his reputation definitely preceded him, he was the Big Bad -- or maybe they just didn’t want to be close to the Slayer’s lapdog.   

“Willy!  Me old mate.  Fill up the glass with O neg -- no pig’s!  Give me the house best.”  

Willy considered his options.  He was human, and if rumours were true William the Bloody could no more do him damage than could a three-year-old.  But he’d assumed that the vampire was toothless in the past only to be bitten on the backside by that notion. He hollered through to the back and a pale figure drifted into view.   

“Yeah, boss?”  

“Vance, gonna need to change the barrel here.  The vamp wants a drop of the good stuff.  Spill.”  

Bloodlust almost overwhelmed Spike as he watched the human drag a sharp blade across his wrist, splitting apart scar tissue to open the vein.  The aroma of freshly spilled human blood hit him right in the gut and he couldn’t help the switch to his demon visage.  His mouth watered, fangs traced by his long pink tongue as he watched the carafe fill to the brim with warm, ruby red elixir of life.  He followed every movement with hungry eyes, licking his lips as a tumbler was placed in front of him.  

“On the house, Spike.  You know, goodwill and all that.  I’m thinking of starting a Happy Hour for the regulars.  Good plan, right?”  

Spike nodded in acknowledgement and quickly drained the glass.  Now that was a turn up for the books.  Willy wouldn’t even give away his own bodily waste.  Something was up.  

As Willy moved to take the glass away, Spike gripped his wrist, wincing as blinding pain shot through his head courtesy of the government chip.  

“Where is she, Willy?”  

“She…I…I…what ‘she’ are you talking about, Spike.  You lost someone?”  

Spike glared at him, keeping a hold of his wrist despite the fact his head was about to explode.  

Shoulders sagging in defeat as he realised that there was no way to break the vampire’s grip, Willy leaned towards him conspiratorially.  He raised his eyebrows and waggled them in a ‘c’mere’ way.  Sighing, but following the narrative imperative, Spike shifted his upper body towards the purveyor of demon wares.   

“What.”  

It was a statement, not a question.  The answer wasn’t requested – it was taken as read that it was coming.  

“Perhaps I might have heard a little snippet of information that may be useful to my good buddy Spike, given all freely and without any thought of asking for anything in return.”  

“Willy…”  

“Ok -- the word on the grapevine is that the Slayer is all thralled up and waiting for fang at Castle Drac.  Folks are saying that she’s to replace the bride who recently shuffled off this immortal coil at the hands of an angry mob.”  

Spike muttered under his breath “There’s always an angry mob…”  

Dragging a deep and useless breath into dead lungs, he let go of Willy’s now bruised and aching wrist.  The snitch had done his job; he’d told his tale.  No point hurting him anymore.  And besides, Spike felt sick to the stomach from the pain in his head and the last thing he wanted was juicy blood making an embarrassing reappearance.  

Gritting his teeth, Spike shoved himself away from the bar and headed out the door.  Stony silence shrouded the room as the pissed-off vampire kicked over a table on his way out.  

“So...who fancies a round of pin the tail on the Morlax demon?”  

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  

Buffy was yanking at the manacles that kept her bound, wrists and ankles, to the wall.  She’d come to a few minutes ago, no knowledge of how she got wherever she was and seriously pissed off.  Nobody messed with her; she was the freaking Slayer!  Who had the nerve to fling a net over her and then chain her to a wall?  Well, there was one person…but that was before.  

Spike had no need to stoop that low.  After all, he must know that if he just waited long enough she’d come running.  She was done kidding herself.  Sooner or later her stylish yet affordable boots would click clack across the cold stone floor of his crypt before being flung to the four corners of the room along with the rest of her clothes as they stripped for action. It was a sex thing, and that was all it was.  Faith said that slaying got her hungry and horny and at the time Buffy had denied it, but hell, she was a big girl now and she could tell it like it was.  Spike said she needed some monster in her man, and maybe he was right.  Didn’t mean she cared for him.  Was just a warrior thing, celebrating another survival.   

Yeah, right.  

Did that explain why, when she lay at his side, his arms flung over her and pulling her snug against his cool body, it felt as if she was in the one place she’d always longed to be?  Why when he whispered her name against her skin did it resonate deep inside her soul?  Why did the evil undead have her crying his name to the heavens?  

She knew why.  She just couldn’t quite accept it.  Not yet.  

And she wouldn’t get a chance to unless she got out of this…dungeon?  She was in a dungeon?  Yep, complete with cold stone walls, braziers, smoking torches, creaking door, genuine cobwebs…  

She stared into the darkness as the approaching footsteps echoed around the dank space.  The voice started before she could see its owner.  

“Ah, Slayer.  You are awake.  Zank you for being my guest; I trust you are comfortable?”  

Dracula.   

“Oh for crying out loud -- is this is your idea of comfortable, you jerk?  I don’t know what you want with me but -- ” and she felt lame saying it, “my boyfriend is so gonna kick your ass!”  

Well, he was her boyfriend…kinda.  Maybe.   

“Ah, ze large military man…yes, I know of zis person.  I understand zat he is …occupied elsevhere.  No matter, he vill not trouble us.”  

“Huh?  No – not Riley.  He’s so dumped.”  

Dracula wore a rare look of bewilderment on his pallid face.  His information was out of date; somebody would lose a limb over this.  But if not him, then who?  He’d only been absent from Sunnydale for less than two weeks and he doubted that the Slayer would take a new lover so quickly.  Possibly someone she already knew?  

“Zo, it is ze villing and eager to please little puppy viz ze soulful eyes?  I am…disappointed, Slayer.  He’s not man enough for you.”  

“What?  Puppy?  Oh, you mean Xander – no!  A world of no…and where do you get off questioning me on my love life anyway?  Look, just let me loose and we’ll say no more about it.  You know I can take you.”  

“And yet…you are still helpless and I stand here ravished by your beauty.  I sink not.  My plan is infinitely superior -- and zere will be music!”  

Buffy didn’t really feel threatened, it was only a matter of time before she broke out of the manacles and then Drac would be blowing in the wind.  But he unnerved her with his black, mesmerising eyes.  Crap.  She felt the pull of his will as he exerted his thrall over her.  Her strength seemed sapped and she sagged back against the wall.  

“I vill make you my bride, as I have a vacancy at present.  You vill be my beloved… I have searched for you, I have yearned for you….  

“Still not convincing, chum. Must be the way you say it…”  

Dracula spun round to meet the outstretched fist of a thoroughly pissed off master vampire.  The cloaked legend sprawled on his back at Spike’s feet.  

“Hey, love, if you wanted to avoid me you could’ve just sent a note…”  

“Spike!  You came for me!  Erm…thanks!”  

Spike took a step towards her only to find himself on his knees as Dracula grabbed at his ankles and brought him down.  There was a scramble, fists, fangs and feet playing equal parts in the grudge match that had been building for decades.  Buffy tried again to rattle herself free but the manacles were Grade A and free of those pesky faults that would have the locks springing open.  No, these were solid and securely fastened by a well-trained minion no doubt, and the most she could do was pull on the chains linked through the restraints to ease her aching shoulders.   

She could do nothing but watch anxiously as the figures wrestled on the floor, first black then platinum blond hair belonging to the vamp with the upper hand.  They were evenly matched, it had to be said.  Her Slayer side observed the moves and strength of her natural enemies, but the part of her that was… softening…towards Spike howled with frustration that she couldn’t get free and help.   

The whirlwind of flailing limbs stopped as the two vampires sprang apart and to their feet.  Spike shook himself, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he gloried in the well-matched fight.  Dracula on the other hand was anxiously checking his clothing for rips and tears and smoothing down his dishevelled hair.  They eyed each other warily.  

“That all you’ve got, Drac?  No flashy gypsy tricks up your fancy sleeves?  Not that the panne velvet isn’t slippery – but fighting in a cloak?”  As he spoke he was trying to retrieve the stakes he’d stashed away earlier, the crossbow and rifle useless and way back in the cavern anyway.  Where the bloody hell had they gone?  

“Do not speak!  I vill not hear you.  You dare to attack me in my own domain?  I am Count Dracula, Prince of Darkness, who…”  

“Oh please, not that old chestnut.  Do us a favour and put another record on.”   Spike let his fists drop and lit a cigarette, ignoring the prissy nose-wrinkling that his elder made a huge show of.  

“Villiam.  Be careful.  I am not alone in zhese caverns.  I choose not to summon my minions because I do not think you vorthy.  But that could change….”  

Spike quirked his scarred brow in answer.  Every inch of his compact yet well-muscled body was screaming ‘bring it on’.  And anyway, he’d found a sharpened stake in his back pocket and his fingers were even now closing in around it…   

“Ahem!”  Buffy cleared her throat.  Both vampires professed to have her as the centre of their universe, but momentarily seemed to have forgotten her existence.  

Azure blue and raven black eyes turned to her.  Buffy rattled her chains and tilted her head.  

“Ah, Slayer…you vish to be released, yes?  Vell, I apologise for detaining you.  Of course you vill be freed soon – once I have dealt with…zis annoying little pest.  Do not vorry, you vill have all the time you need to make preparations for your vedding.”  

tbc...

+++++++++++++  

Chapter 3

Spike growled.  Dracula was truly insane.  Wedding preparations?  Over his extremely undead body… 

Buffy snarled at the legendary vampire; she may be temporarily incapacitated by unyielding iron but she was NOT going to be the hapless female signing up for his weird idea of happy families.  And besides, what would Spike think?  ‘There I go again….Spike, Spike, Spike!  One track mind girl has taken control in hormone central.’ 

While Dracula preened himself and strutted in front of his captive, Spike narrowed his eyes and sought a solution to the immediate problem.  So, the poncey git actually thought he could lay clammy hands on his girl, did he?  Not going to happen.  ‘Think, Spike…’ 

Dracula oozed smarmy sincerity from his pasty pores as he flashed his dazzling white smile at the Slayer.  Spike snorted – as if those were his own teeth!  God, before the magic of cosmetic dentistry was readily available Drac had sported a mouthful of tombstones.  But credit where it’s due, it was a lovely job – even retained fully functional fangs and all.  ‘Focus Spike…Buffy’s manacled; insane master vampire wanting to take her as his bride.’ 

Odds would be considerably shortened if the Slayer played tag with him in his all-in wrestling match; first order of business therefore was to get her free. 

“Look, Drac…I’ll make a deal with you.  You want to wed the Slayer here… all well and good, although personally I think you’re making a big mistake.  Got quite a temper on her, you know, as well as a tendency to whittle wood into lethal points.  Yammers on something painful too.  But thing is – I earmarked this one long before you came on the scene with your mysterious smoke and velvet cape.  I’ve been stalking her for years now, getting to know her friends, palling up with her mum and all.  Was just about to drain me my third Slayer when you come to town and bugger things up.  There’s etiquette ‘bout this stuff, and you know it.  This is my hunting ground, you can’t just take my kills without a trade off.” 

He heard the gasp behind him, was aware of the hurt look he’d see if he turned to look into the Slayer’s eyes.  He willed her to understand that he didn’t mean what he was saying.   But if he could lull Drac into thinking he was cooperating, he’d have a better shot at freeing Buffy and trouncing the sad, slimy git once and for all. 

Dracula paused to consider; he’d already ruined a good silk shirt brawling with William the Bloody on his previous visit to Sunnydale and he was almost certain he’d heard a rip in his second-best cloak when he was rolling about on the dungeon floor.  A vampire with his reputation had to keep up appearances and such things did not come cheap.  He’d listen to the impudent whelp.  Anyway he was intrigued that it had taken so long for the notorious warrior to take down this Slayer; if he’d been here for years then either the vampire was slipping or Buffy Summers was trickier than she looked.  Most of all, he really didn’t want to part with Spike’s cash.  Had it all earmarked out for some silky waistcoats and willing virgins to unbutton them. 

“Very vell – vhat do you propose?” 

 Spike stifled a sigh of relief and hid his shaking hands by lighting another cigarette.  He took the time to compose himself, dragging on the cigarette and blowing out the smoke before he answered. 

“For a start there’s the little matter of that thirty grand…don’t seem right you holding on to my dosh when you didn’t keep your end of the bargain.  I’d never have had you down as a welcher, Drac – give it back.” 

Damn.  Still, words were cheap and he had plenty of them to splash around.  “Zat can be arranged… But I still haven’t heard anyzing zat vould convince me to call off my volves.  And as you can see, I really do have ze Slayer at my mercy.  You vould have to be very persuasive indeed.” 

“Maybe this’ll help you make your mind up.”  Spike gripped a stake in his left hand, point mere inches from Dracula’s chest.  He’d used the time Drac had been pontificating to sneak the weapon out of his back pocket.  He smirked; who was the master vampire now? 

“Don’t be stupid, Villiam, you know zat I can disappear.  You have seen me do it many times, I vould be gone before you could pierce my skin.  Vhy do you persist in doing zis?” 

“Don’t like to lose.  Don’t like being pissed on by some poof in a big girl’s blouse.  And I don’t like any ponce touching my bird.” 

Dracula and Buffy both gasped in sync.  “Your what?” 

“Ah, erm…well…hey!  Who’s the one with the stake here?  Have a little respect.” 

“Spike,” Buffy murmured, her voice deceptively sweet, “what’s a ‘bird’?” 

“S’alright, petal, it’s a term of endearment, trust me.  It is!” 

Buffy jingled her manacles again in an emphatic plea to be released; it gave Spike the chance to rush Drac when the dark haired vampire turned to the source of the noise, the stake actually drawing blood as the tip broke the skin over his heart.  Dracula stilled, eyes wide as he realised he’d underestimated William the Bloody.  Any movement and the stake would pierce his heart and no flashy gypsy trick could help him then.  For the trick to work he needed to disperse his bodily form just before the stake hit pay dirt – but that depended on him having enough time to do that.  And the pressure at his breastbone informed him that time was something he was rapidly running out of. 

Spike pressed the stake in a little further and held out one hand.  He grinned as the cold metal key for the manacles was placed on his palm and he curled his fingers around it.  Yeah, he was still the Big Bad.  Without looking he tossed the key to Buffy, who caught it easily and made fast work of unlocking the restraints, despite the awkward position of her hands.  A blur of movement heralded her arrival right in front of the two vampires, extremely pissed off and ready for a set-to.   

Vampire senses went on red alert as they recognised vengeful Slayer about to strike; made their blood run…well…not, as it happened.  Spike held on to the stake, battling to ignore the “RUN” message struggling to make it through to his feet.  He was pretty sure she wasn’t really upset with him, but she was tricky – he hadn’t been lying to Drac earlier.  He tried a lopsided smile, the tongue curl, bit of a head tilt – nope, that really wasn’t going to cut it, judging by the icy glint in her eyes and the straight line of her mouth.  Probably needed to calm down a bit of time before she’d cut him some slack.  Fair enough, he did kinda say he wanted to kill her… 

“So – not as sure of yourself now are you oh ‘Prince of Darkness’?  No snappy lines about yearning, no sprouting wings and dive-bombing me?  Tsssk, you’re slipping.” 

Spike’s amusement rumbled in his chest and Dracula whimpered plaintively as he felt the stake draw ever nearer to his heart.    

“And I don’t know what you’re laughing at, Spike.  Gonna drain your third Slayer, huh?”  Green eyes glittering and hard – definitely not amused. 

“I can explain…” 

“You’d better.  Now, do I have to leave you boys alone to duke it out or can we cut the crap and get on with it?” 

“Slayer, I offer you immortality, to spend your days vith me, surrounded by opulence and vealth.  Vhat can zis stripling offer you that can compare to zat?” 

Buffy’s snort of laughter died as she turned her attention to said stripling, who was presently hanging his head in self-doubt.  That was the question, really, wasn’t it? 

Spike’s head snapped up at her reply.  “I really don’t know – but I’m damn well going to find out.   Spike?  What did you mean before about ‘dosh’?  Is that a vampire thing?” 

“No Slayer, it’s a money thing.  Old Drac here was supposed to leave town never to return, paid him thirty grand and let his boys work me over for the privilege.  Should have known he wouldn’t keep his word.” 

Buffy’s face showed her surprise.  The cuts and bruises, the limp – he’d actually let Dracula beat him up?  And paid him money to go away?  Why would he do that? 

“But…why would you…?” 

“Seemed like a good idea at the time.  It‘s no big deal, had me a right rollicking workout with some nasty demon types and got the old blood flowing.  All kinds of fun was had.” 

“And you did that for me?” 

“Not entirely -- fitted in with my plans, you know?  Poncey git comes into my town and tries to take over?  What would that do to my already ripped to shreds reputation?  Vamps have standards too, you know.” 

Almost convincing. 

Buffy flashed him a warm smile; the ice in her eyes was definitely melting.  Big Bad…yeah, with a soft and mushy centre. 

“Ok, this is what’ll happen.  Count Dracula – I think you should melt back into the shadows and become a myth again.  If you’re desperate for fame, go trek to Hollywood, plenty of B-movie makers there who’d be happy to give you screen time.  William the Bloody – you’ll forget about the money and walk out of here with me now.  Ah ah ah… the way you live?  Doesn’t seem to me you’ve done very well with the money anyway, so you won’t miss it.  That’s the deal, boys.  If it’s not to your liking, then fine – Spike can ram the stake home, one less vampire for me to dust and I’m sure we can fight our way through the dregs of your army of minions.  Be kinda fun.” 

She let the offer dangle for a little while, Spike pressing the stake further into Drac’s chest without any prompting.  What a team they made.   

“So, what’s it to be?  Dusty demise or fame and fortune?  Countdown starts now…” 

Dracula’s hiss of rage as his fangs descended lasted mere moments before a cloud of dust surrounded the two blonds.  Buffy inhaled without thinking, choking on the desiccated remains of her ancient enemy and Spike dropped the stake to pat her on the back. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine…could do with a drink… Let’s get out of here.” 

They started walking down the cavern stopping to gather the rifle and crossbow that Spike had stashed earlier.  “Guns, Spike?  Never useful…” 

“Yeah, I’ll try to remember that, Slayer, if we make it out of here.” 

Couple of dozen minions later, including the weeping widows who were now blowing in the wind with their late husband, Dracula, the Slayer and her vampire lover made it to the cavern entrance.  The sky was beginning to lighten heralding a new day.  Thing was, what would the new day hold? 

“Well, Slayer, looks like I’d better get myself all cosied up in the darkness.  Don’t feel up to playing peek-a-boo with Mr Sunshine after the night I’ve had.” 

The unspoken invitation lay heavy between them.   

“Well, I should probably head on home too…” 

Spike stifled his disappointment.  She was right, she should.  Didn’t mean he wanted her to though.  “Yeah, maybe that’s best.” 

Warm fingers laced with his cooler ones, her firm grip burning his skin.  “But just to see you don’t get into any more trouble, I’ll walk you home.” 

The automatic snide retort died on his lips.  Being walked home by the Slayer?  She wasn’t kicking him into touch just yet then… 

They walked in silence for a while, breaking into a run as dawn threatened to beat them before they reached the crypt.  Spike burst through the door only slightly singed, Buffy standing on the threshold.  Blue eyes locked on hazel, emotions strung out between them, each unsure of what was happening here.   

“Er…you fancy a nightcap, Slayer?” 

“Thought you’d never ask…” 

With one step she was through the door and in his arms.  Firm lips met hers; the arms she’d ached to be wrapped in held her close, almost crushing her.  Clinging to him like she couldn’t get close enough, she wrapped her legs around his back, locking her ankles to keep herself in place as he started to walk, still kissing her like there was no tomorrow. 

“Door…” she managed to gasp out against his lips.  Spike backed up and kicked the door shut, surprising Buffy when he turned and slammed her up against it.  He had one hand braced at the side of her head, the other firmly gripping her ass as he ground his groin against her heat.  Buffy’s fingers tangled in the unruly curls at the nape of his neck drawing him ever closer as she devoured him.  This surge of lust she felt every time he was near, this need to connect…was it what she could expect always?  God she hoped so! 

Spike crouched down a little to take her weight on his thigh as he snaked the hand from her ass and round between them, unfastening his jeans and shoving them down.  Buffy’s strangled cry against his mouth as his very obvious hard-on thwacked her as it sprung free had him chuckling.  Now he had to think – how the fuck was he going to get her out of her jeans? 

“Christ, Slayer, ever considered wearing a skirt?  Might be handy…” 

“Buffy…call me Buffy…I love how it sounds coming from your mouth…” 

Even more obvious hard-on now…. 

“Buffy…god, love…ok, stop moving…aaaaaargh, no fair…” 

Buffy’s hand was now firmly wrapped around his cock and squeezing rhythmically.  “Don’t want to lose the momentum, honey.  I have plans for you.  And you’re gonna need this.” 

Spike saw spots before his eyes.  ‘Always thought it was a bloody figure of speech’ 

With a burst of vampiric strength the denim was ripped to shreds, the crotch seam giving way under the onslaught, and Buffy found herself suddenly filled with engorged cock.  No time for preliminaries – just the desperate need to be joined. Exactly what she wanted. 

The remnants of her jeans flapped around her, still attached to her booted feet.   Spike had his head nestling on her neck, his forehead leaning against the door as he thrust into her, hard.  Buffy screamed with pleasure at the touch of his fingers on her nipple, the coolness of his flesh heightening the sensation as the nub hardened almost painfully.  The lick of his tongue along her jugular removed her last vestige of self-control and she started babbling his name and begging him to move harder, faster, to bite her… 

‘What the fuck?  Bite her?’ 

He raised his head, quelling the demon that was all too eager to do exactly what she asked.  Buffy was biting down on her lower lip, even white teeth worrying away at the pink flesh.  Then she snaked out her moist tongue and licked the swollen flesh, eyes wide and fixed on his.  “Please…I need you to…please, Spike…” 

Fight over.  Fangs lengthened, brow ridged, growl built.  “You’re mine, Buffy…all mine…” 

She nodded, unable to speak as she felt the pain of penetration that followed the delicious pressure of the twin fangs on her yielding flesh, felt the trickle of blood that escaped his rapturous suckling and rolled slowly down her breast.  The pain melted away as he took her blood, timing the pulls at her neck with the thrust of his cock deep inside her slick pussy.  It wasn’t pretty, but it was real, and it was what they both needed right now.  A sweep of his tongue across the wound his fangs left had her convulsing around his length, her muscles milking him and taking what she wanted.  Spike sought out her lips with his, the tang of her own blood exciting her even as it revolted her when she sucked his tongue inside her mouth and bit down on it hard.  New ripples of pleasure ran through her as he thrust even harder, so hard she was sure she was heading through the solid wood door and out into the graveyard.  With a howl, Spike climaxed, his cool semen hitting her womb and triggering another orgasm that eclipsed the one still spiralling through her.   

And they hadn’t even made it to the bed yet. 

Panting, Buffy unwrapped her legs from around Spike’s back and tried them out for sturdiness as he lowered her to the floor.  ‘Weak, wobbly, and virtually useless – how does he do that,’ she wondered dazedly.  She leant up against his sculpted chest, pouting as she realised he was still wearing his t-shirt and there was no nipple to nibble.  She gazed down and couldn’t help laughing when she spotted his half-mast jeans and matching cock, eager to play again.   

“What now, Buffy?  Hardly doing my ego any favours, love.” 

“I’m sorry, baby…it’s just – you look so funny with your jeans half-on.” 

“Wouldn’t throw stones, pet – you seen yourself lately?” 

Buffy checked out her apparel, having to concede that in the ridiculous stakes she probably won hands down…pants down even.  

They giggled softly, eyes meeting and noting the emotions on show there.  The intensity scared them both a little, immediately sobering the mood.  Spike’s palm cupped Buffy’s face as he bestowed a single, sweet kiss to her bruised lips.  “Come to bed, love,” he whispered.  “Want to hold you.” 

Buffy nodded, unable to form words.  She was scared; this wasn’t a fight and fuck deal, she couldn’t kid herself that’s all it was anymore.  She had so many emotions warring inside her whenever she was near him.  She knew what she should be feeling, hell Giles had drilled her relentlessly on the whole ‘vampire bad – slayer kill’ riff.  But the last thing she wanted to do was kill him.   

A moment of pure clarity hit her.   

She’d fallen in love with him…how could she…but she had.  Adding it all up, all the fighting, the dancing they’d done over the years, the fact that she’d never been able to kill him, the fact that she felt safe and secure in the arms of the creature she should be staking, the fact that she thought she’d die if she never got to kiss him again – she loved him. 

She saw the same look she knew she wore on his face.  Gulp.   

“Yes, Spike.  Take me to bed; I need to…I have to tell you something.” 

Hurriedly pulling up the jeans so that he could walk, he gently lifted her into his arms and made his way over to the opening to the lower crypt, his eyes never leaving hers.  He jumped down, landing softly, and then laid her on the bed.  Buffy lay back, closing her eyes in bliss as she felt strong fingers remove her boots and the shredded jeans, felt the bed dip as he coaxed her to sit up while he slipped her shirt off over her head.  She lay back, naked to his gaze, hair spread on the pillow beneath her, but he needed to see more.  He could make out her form with his enhanced eyesight, but his golden girl deserved light.  Candles were soon lit and bathing her nude body in gleaming illumination.  Buffy turned her head to see him shrug out of the jeans and toe off his boots, the t-shirt skimmed off and tossed down to join the pile of clothes behind him.   

She couldn’t stifle a gasp.  He was glorious, not an imperfection on his body as he was outlined in the soft light of the candles.  Muscles well defined but not bulky as they rippled beneath velvet skin, abs flexing above the dark curls of his groin when he started to prowl towards her.  Her pulse rocketed, eyes wide and mouth dry as she drank him in.   

Moving slowly he lay on the bed at her side and tenderly stroked her hair away from her flushed cheeks.  Another soft kiss, just as sweet as the one upstairs, but this time he lazily opened her lips and snaked his tongue inside to sweep around hers.  This must be ecstasy, this feeling he was creating with his actions.  She needed to tell him that, he deserved it.  She’d seen his doubt when Dracula was baiting him about what he could offer her.  This.  He could offer her this.  Everything. 

“Spike…” 

He leaned up on one elbow looking down on her with gentle eyes while his free hand played with her golden tresses.  “What, love?” 

“This thing we have…what is it to you?” 

What a question!  Everything, that was all…every sodding good thing in his life.  His reason for not being dust, his reason for opening his eyes in the evening.  Yeah, that’s exactly what to say to have her sprinting out and away from the crazy obsessed vampire. 

“I love… being with you, Buffy, you know I do.  You make me ache…in the best way.  Love…touching you.” 

“But what is it?  Is it a fling, a temporary insanity?  You vampire, me slayer…what’s wrong with this picture?” 

Spike failed to hide the pain in his eyes; so this was the thing.  This was where she said ‘thanks for the shag, now I have to go play at being the good girl’.  Yeah, that figured. 

But Buffy noticed the stiffening of his shoulders, the bowed head.  And it hurt her to think she’d caused him pain.  Any last reservation melted away as she grabbed for his hand, still twisted in her hair, and linked his fingers. 

“Shall I tell you?  Nothing.  Absolutely nothing is wrong.  In fact, everything is right.  I’m never going to have the two point five kids and a white picket fence.  Hell, I probably won’t live long enough to even think about that.  I have to live in the now, Spike, seize the day kind of thing.  I don’t want to waste any more time with mixed signals and doing what my Watcher and my friends think I should be doing.  It’s time I did what I want to do.  And I want you.  It feels right when I’m with you.” 

Spike’s head snapped up, amazement and bewildered confusion chasing over his features.   

“You mean…” 

“I mean, Spike, and god this is harder than I thought…I…think…no I know that I…kinda love you.” 

It wasn’t the most forceful declaration of love in the world, wouldn’t go down as a ‘Great Romantic Declaration of Our Time’, but it was the most wonderful thing Spike had ever heard.   

“Say that again.” 

“I love you, you big dork!  Now kiss me.” 

One gobsmacked vampire hurried to do as he was told.  No question who had the upper hand in this relationship.  She did.  No contest.  

“Do you…do you love me?” Buffy’s little voice ghosted across his lips.  Did she really not know? 

“Buffy…I love you so much, I think I’ll burst; you’re in my gut, my dreams.  Don’t know how you got in there, but you’re setting up shop right here.”  He splayed his hand across his chest, over his heart.  “I want to be a better man for you, love.  I’ll try…” 

“Don’t want a better man, want you.  Fangs and all…in fact…”  With a glint of devilment in her eyes, Buffy bit down on the soft part of the arm resting beside her head eliciting a growl from her vampire.   

“Should be careful about biting a vampire, love.  Never know what might happen.” 

“Oh promises, promises…I’m counting on it.  Then later we have to tell my mom.  And then the Scoobies too, explain about the marks.” 

“Bloody hell, I must be dreaming!  But maybe not show your mum, yeah?” 

“Yeah, maybe not.”

THE END 

So………….I made it Spuffy!  Yay me!  Sorry for those wanting more Riley bashing but this was always about my two favourites.  You’ll have to just take it from me that he was dumped and dissed.  :D