Needy
by
Icemink

A/N I actually don't really spend much time rewriting Damaged, because I have to do it all from memory (since those evil people at Fox keep us waiting several months between DVD releases) and what I'm really interested in is what comes after.

Warning: Though not the focus of this story, there are a couple chapters that contain sexual violence.

Disclaimer: all of the characters belong to Joss

Chapter 1: What? How?

The elevator door opened, and the two vampires, Angel and Spike strode out, heading toward the conference room.

"A psycho slayer!" Spike exclaimed.

Angel rolled his eyes. "Will you stop saying that?"

"Sorry mate, just trying to get my head around the idea. A psycho slayer."

As they walked past the secretary's desk, which seemed to be empty, a blond head peaked up from under the desk.

"Umm boss? There's something y-"

"Harmony I don't even want to know what you're doing down there, get back to work." Angel sighed. For the hundredth time he wondered what Wesley had been thinking when he had appointed the poster child for dumb blonds to be his secretary.

"But boss."

"Back to work." Angel snapped.

Neither he nor Spike even bothered to look at her, as she reluctantly took her seat and whispered under her breath. "Sure, fine, whatever, not like you'd want to know that Slutty the Vampire Slayer's here."

But the male vampires were ignoring her completely. Side by side, they each reached for one of the double doors to the conference room. At almost they same moment they each opened a door, and at the same moment they both froze.

The usual gang was there, Wesley, Gunn, Fred, and Lorne. All looking business like each in their own way. But sitting on the table was a young blond women in a white cotton blouse and blue jeans, her black leather boots resting on one of the chairs. Her back was facing them, but Angel knew her instantly. They was she sat, they way she held everyone's attention, they way she smelled. Buffy.

She turned to look as she heard the doors open.

"Hey Ang- SPIKE?!"

It took everything in Angel not to growl at her. She's just surprised, he tried to tell himself, and it was evident on her face that she really was.

She hopped down off the table. She stood facing them in a wide stance, balanced, as if she might be expecting an attack. But her arms were crossed in front of her chest, protectively, and Angel knew her well enough to know that this meant she was nervous.

She was the most beautiful thing Angel had ever seen. And every time he saw her in person, he was filled with the same need. He wanted to grab her, kiss her, beg her to take him back. To be his, and only his. It tore him apart. But he knew he needed to stay strong. He knew if he asked her, she would say yes, but he couldn't. She deserved better than him. She deserved sunlight, and children, and laughter. Things he couldn't give her.

"What -? How -?" she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, to calm herself. Angel was glad she closed her eyes, because he knew they were focused not on him, but on Spike.

When she opened them again Angel's heart leapt. She was still looking only at Spike, but her eyes were flashing, angry.

"Hello Slayer." Angel could hear the younger vampire shuffle his feet uncomfortably next to him, as he used his best, I haven't done anything wrong if I don't admit to it, voice.

"Yah, whatever. Look, do you guys know where Dana is or not?" Buffy asked, looking away from Spike and back toward Wesley and Gunn.

"I'm still confused," Gunn broke in, "I thought there was only supposed to be one Slayer, the Chosen One and all that. Well except for Faith of course. She didn't die did she?"

"What?! No," Buffy sighed, "Okay here's the deal, way back in the dawn of time, a bunch of shamans took a young girl and filled her with the powers of a demon so that she could fight the forces of darkness. But since they didn't expect her to live long, they set up this whole deal, that when she died her powers would pass to another girl. The Chosen One, right.

"So anyway, no one ever bothered to question why there should just be one girl saving the whole human race, until last spring that is. The First evil was raising an army of uber-vampires and was killing off potential slayers, trying to end the whole Slayer line. Long story short, Willow, you guys met Willow right? Anyway, Willow pulled some major mojo, and made every potential slayer into a Slayer. But not just the potential Slayers in Sunnydale, all of them. Everywhere. Including this Dana girl.

"Look she's strong, she scared, and it sounds like she's not all there. Slayers have these wild technicolor dreams about the battles of previous Slayers. If she wasn't in touch with reality to begin with, they could have easily pushed her all the way over the edge. Trust me, they're not fun. We need to find her before she hurts herself or someone else."

Buffy looked around the room, waiting for someone to answer her, give her the information she needed. Then she scrunched up her eyebrows in confusion.

"Where'd Spike go?"
Chapter 2: Confrontations

A/N This chapter takes place near the end of Damaged, after Dana has been captured, and as they are wheeling Spike off in an Ambulance.

"You know this is you fault, don't you?"

Angel looked at her in confusion.

"Huh?"

"You know, back when you guys were evil. You were the big alpha male vampire, big daddy undead. Wasn't it your job to teach him to stay away from Slayers?"

It was unfair Buffy knew, and she was really only teasing Angel. She knew she sounded angry. And she was, though mostly at Spike. What had he been thinking? A vampire trying to kill a Slayer was one thing. Especially an untrained one like Dana. If he'd been trying to kill her, Spike would have had a better than even chance she figured. After all, before tonight he'd fought three Slayers, and killed two of them fairly easily.

But trying to incapacitate a Slayer all by himself was another thing entirely. He was lucky he hadn't been killed. He nearly had been. Did he have some kind of death wish. No one had bothered to explain to her yet how he'd come back in the first place. Was he going through something like she had when she had returned from the dead. She didn't know, and that made her angry. No one had told her he was back, and that made her really angry.

The fact was she was trying to work up her anger. As long as she was angry, she couldn't be sick. And she was very queasy. She'd seen a lot of awful things since she became the Slayer, including Spike horribly tortured on more than one occasion. Once looked so awful that Xander had even felt sorry for him. But this was different. Seeing him down in that basement, chained, and armless. . . It was wrong. It didn't fit somehow. It couldn't be real and yet was, horribly so.

She focused back on Angel.

"I'm just kidding you know. Major case of the wiggins you know?" she did her best to smile at him.

"Yeah, I understand. Well, okay it's Spike, so I don't really understand but . . . Don't worry, we can put Humpty-Dumpty back together again."

"Good. Well, any way I'll just take Dana and. . . "

"What? Buffy wait. We'll take care of her don't worry."

"Angel, she's a Slayer, it's. . ."

"No Buffy, really. We can handle her."

"-my responsibility. Angel. I did this to her. I made her this. Besides, I'm not all that comfortable leaving a crazy slayer in the hands of an evil law firm." Angel started to protest but this time Buffy cut him off. "An evil law-firm that's been known to hire rouge slayers and use them as assassins I might add."

"Buffy, we won't do that, we can help her."

"Yeah, look maybe you can, but she belongs with us. You know, the good guys."

The look on Angel's face was like he'd been slapped. She almost regretted saying it. She could feel it coming. The same argument they'd had post-Sunnydale, when she found out that he'd decided to take over Wolfram & Hart. She wanted desperately to believe that Angel was better than this place, that he could do good, but she couldn't take that chance. And he'd never given her a very good explanation of why he would join up with his old archenemies. She knew he was hiding something from her, probably to protect her. She almost wanted to laugh. She had once told Spike that she couldn't love him because she could never trust him, but the fact was, Angel was the big love of her life, and she didn't trust him. Wasn't sure she could ever trust him again.

"Buffy, it's not like you have a choice here." He was angry, she could hear it in his voice, see it in the way he stood up a little straighter.

"No Angel, it's you that doesn't have a choice. LADIES." She could hear behind her the van, as twelve other girls appeared. "Thirteen slayers. I'm not thinking that's your lucky number Angel."

As her girls loaded Dana's stretcher in their van, Buffy wanted to apologize to Angel. To try and make it better somehow. But she knew she couldn't. There was no way she could leave Dana with him, and she suspected that anything she might say would only make it worse.
Chapter 3 Catching Up

Spike wished Angel would just go away. It was humiliating. Lying there, barely able to move in that awful hospital gown while Angel stood over him. Spike couldn't help remembering the time he'd spent in a wheelchair. When Angelus had come and taken away everything Spike had worked for. How weak and powerless he'd felt.

Spike wasn't one to expect life to be fair, but still, just once couldn't Angel be the one to be maimed and incapacitated.

There was a quiet knock at the door. Then without warning she was there. Buffy, peaked in.

"Hey, how are you? Hey Angel. Do you mind if I. . ." she didn't seem to know what to say.

"Come in pet," he said hurriedly, afraid she'd go away. Suddenly all the pain was gone, or at least not important. Buffy was here, and she wasn't mad at him.

At the same time he was embarrassed all over again. He'd imagined a hundred different ways it could go when she found out that he was alive, from the good to the bad. But nothing he'd thought of had been as bad as this. Weak, helpless. And yet she was here, and that had to be good.

She started to enter and close the door behind her, when Angel crossed the room to her, blocking Spike's view.

"I thought we were the enemy."

Fuck, Spike thought. She was here to see him, she cared, at least a little, how he was doing, and tall, dark, and brooding was going to bollox the whole thing up.

"Yeah, I don't get that part, since no one's told me anything. Is Spike working for you?"

"NO!" the two vampire's said in unison.

"See, not an evil lawyer, not the enemy."

"So you think you can just waltz in here after you're little, everyone's evil speech?"

"Angel . . ." she opened the door to the room again, and pulled Angel through, shutting the door on Spike.

Damn! She wasn't going to stay. He wasn't going to see her. He wasn't even strong enough to stand up and get her. Not to mention the fact that he didn't think he could turn a door knob right now. Luckily, it didn't seem to occur to either Angel or Buffy that it was his hands that got cut off, not his ears, and with his vampire hearing he could hear every word they were saying just as if they'd stayed in the room.

"Look," Buffy was saying, "I know you're mad at me and we could argue more about this whole Wolfram & Hart thing, but honestly, I don't care about that. Spike's hurt and-"

"And what? You know, I didn't have to do this. I'm paying for this whole thing. I could have just left him there like that. Do you have any idea how expensive it is to have two arms reattached?"

Bastard. No one asked you for your bloody help.

"No. I don't. And thank you. You're right, you didn't have to. It's not that I think you're evil Angel. God, I love you, you know that."

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. He wanted to scream, he wanted to kick things, throw them and smash them. How could she say that right in front of him. He knew it was true, but hearing her say to Angel the thing she would never say to him. It felt like a knife had been stuck in his stomach and was ripping him open from navel to neck. He bit his lip to keep from making any noise. He was sure now that Angel must know that he could hear. He was probably grinning ear to ear. Lapping it up. Angel probably had Buffy against the wall his tongue down her throat, rubbing against her.

Tears rolled down his cheeks, but he couldn't move his hands to wipe them away. He had stopped paying attention to the conversation outside, but now he could hear that Buffy was still speaking.

"He's my friend."

There was a silence and then, "Fine whatever," and Spike could hear Angel's heavy steps as he left.

The door opened, and there she was again.

"Sorry about that. Oh God, you're in pain. Let me get a doct-"

"Wait. I'm okay pet. Really."

"No, I'll get someone, it'll only don't take a minute."

"Please don't go." Fuck, could he sound anymore pathetic.

She smiled. She smiled at him. The pain was still there. The hurt from the words that he wasn't supposed to have heard. And yet somehow it didn't matter. She was smiling at him.

She came and sat gently next to him on the bed. Her leg was only centimeters from his hand, and he couldn't touch her. He wouldn't have. He knew he wasn't allowed, but it drove him nuts knowing that he wasn't physically capable of doing it. It seemed more than he could bear. Then suddenly she leaned forward, and her hands were on his face. Hot soft fingers wiping away his tears, and it didn't seem to matter as much that he couldn't touch her, as long as she didn't stop touching him.

"Are you sure you're okay? You don't have to prove anything you know. I know how tough you are. There's no point in you being in pain."

He wanted to laugh, it was almost too much to bear. He was pretty well drugged, he could tell, and the pain in his hands was almost nothing. But there was nothing they could give him for the pain of her. Then again, with all the shamans running around, maybe there was.

"Really pet, I'm okay. They gave me lots of nice drugs."

She looked at him as if she didn't really believe him, but was going to let it slide. She looked down at his left hand, and gently began to run her fingers across it. He could see her do it, but thanks to those self same "nice" drugs, he couldn't really feel her touch. He wanted to curse, to get her to go back to touching his face, but he just watched her, accepting the intention of her caresses, even if couldn't properly enjoy them.

"I talked to the doctor's, or shaman's or whatever, before I came in. They say you're going to be all right. Good as new in fact. Not right away, but you know, soon. Which is good, cause I like your hands. I like what they-" she broke off blushing.

For the first time he smiled. Fuck Angel. She might love him, but he bet Angel had never really touched her the ways he had. The ways he might still again, but that Angel couldn't allow himself to.

"I'm kind of attached to them myself. And I intend to stay attached this time."

She looked up. He expected her to tease him about the bad joke, but instead there were tears in her eyes.

"Oh, god Spike, I'm so sorry. I never meant. . . This is all my fault." she broke down sobbing.

"Shh there, there." The need to scream and break things hit him again full force. He wanted to put his arms around, her, to comfort her. But he was too drugged. He couldn't move. "Don't know what you're talking about. None of this is your fault. I'm the stupid git who bit off more than he could chew."

Sniff "But it is my fault. I did this to her. I made her a Slayer. I made her a killer. Those people she killed, I gave her the power to kill them, to hurt you."

"Hey. This isn't your fault. Those people would have died months ago if you hadn't made the potentials into Slayers. Along with all the rest of us I might add. You saved the world. You did what you had to do. None of this is your fault."

"Yeah, I saved the world," her eyes were still teary, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "I saved the world by killing you."

"All right that's enough pet. You didn't kill me. I made my own decisions. And I wouldn't change a thing, not even if it meant that I stayed dead. Now stop this."

Suddenly she sat up and wiped away her tears. "God look at me. Here you are in the hospital, in pain, and I'm crying all over you. Expecting you to take care of me. Self absorbed much?"

"Buffy, it's okay luv. I don't mind. Cry if you need to. I wouldn't have, shouldn't have snapped at you. I'm just frustrated since I can't hold you. Comfort you all proper like. You know, just when I was getting used to touching things again."

"Huh?"

"Oh right, guess no one told you about my Casper days?" she just stared at him confused. "When I came back, I was ghost. Or something like a ghost anyway. That's how I ended up here in L.A. The amulet belonged to Wolfram & Hart, and just sort of found it's way back.

"Thing was, I was stuck to it, or Wolfram & Hart. They owned the amulet, and it owned me. So for several months there I had nothing to do but haunt Angel. But I couldn't touch anything, at least not without all sorts of concentration. Anyway, didn't get all corporeal again until about a month ago." he shrugged, and was rather proud of himself, it was the most significant movement he'd made yet.

"A whole month huh. And that whole time you couldn't find a phone?"

"And call what number. Not like I could check with the Sunnydale post office for a forwarding address and find out, say what country you were in."

"Please Angel knew how to. . . Okay, so I admit Angel probably wasn't going to give you my number. But still, I find it hard to believe that you couldn't find a way to contact me. I mean you're Spike. You could find all the pieces of the Judge, that ring of vampire invulnerability, not to mention your soul, and you couldn't find my phone number or forwarding address. It's just, it hurt you know. Seeing you, knowing that you were back, and you didn't tell me. It hurt."

"I'm sorry luv. You know I'd never hu. . . never MEAN to hurt you."

"I know." she reached over and ran her fingers through his hair. "So being a ghost not the fun it's cracked up to be?"

"Please. Not much fun to be had when you pass through everything. Not sure this is really that much better. When I was a ghost I couldn't touch anything, but then again there was nothing to touch."

"Huh? Just because your body wasn't solid doesn't mean everyth. . .Oh," she blushed as comprehension dawned on her. "Well, don't go thinking I'm going to be doing you any favors. I don't feel that guilty," she tossed her hair back over her shoulder.

He couldn't help but give her his cocky grin. Between the hair, the blushing, and the way her eyes had momentarily traveled down his body, he knew she wasn't as opposed to the idea as she was trying to seem.

"Why pet, I would never imply you do anything of the sort. . ." he waited till she gave him the look that said that she didn't believe him for a second, "here. Look in the corner behind the tele."

She looked and spotted the security camera.

"I guess you do have reason to be camera shy."

"It's not that. I hadn't even thought about THAT. It's just, where do you think Angel went when he left here. I'd be willing to be bet you almost anything that he went to security. No, I have no intention in letting him get off watching you suck my cock."

"Please, Spike. YOU might do something like that, but Angel wouldn't. Not to mention I'm pretty sure that me giving you a blow job is not high on his list of turn ons."

Spike laughed.

"I'm not saying it wouldn't piss him the hell off, but trust me, he wouldn't be able to look away. He'd be able to block out most of it. All he'd see is you mouth around a cock, and he could imagine it was his. Besides, he likes to watch. He used to watch me and Dru all the-"

"Ewww, okay that's enough. We are not having this conversation anymore. It's ridiculous. How do you even come up with this stuff?"

"Suit yourself pet, but if you don't believe me, go to security. Fourth floor, left out of the lift. You can't miss it. They keep a log at their front desk. Angel's the boss so they won't have made him sign in, but they'll have written his name in."

"And you know all this how?"

"Hello, ghost, here, three months. Not like I had much to do, especially with the forced celibacy," then his voice dropped, now he was serious, "He's got no clue you know. What goes on here. He says 'jump' and they say 'how high?' but only the ones he sees. He thinks he runs things here, but there are a dozen division heads, and the only ones he knows are Wes, and Gunn, and Fred. This place works without him. Goes on about it's business. He's got no clue what goes on here."

"Miss Summers?" one of the nurses stuck her head in, "Mr. Spike really needs his rest. You can come back later."

She nodded, and kissed him on the forehead. "I'll be back later, I promise, rest okay? Get better."
Chapter 4 Home Sweet Home

"Get off. You know I can walk just fine, there's nothing wrong with my bloody legs." Spike shrugged off Buffy's help and purposely stormed down the stairs, until he was forced to stop at the closed door.

"Forget about the keys?" Buffy jingled them, pretending for his sake that the only reason he couldn't go into his own apartment was that she was holding them, and that it had nothing to do with the fact that he couldn't turn a door knob.

She unlocked the door, and he brushed pass her, ignoring her.

"Buffy?" came the soft voice behind her, "Are you sure this is such a good idea? I know you two go way back, but he's kind of . . ."

"Rude, obnoxious, cranky, an asshole?" she laughed, "It's okay Fred. he's just being Spike. I've seen him much worse than this."

"Yeah, but maybe, we could find someplace else for him to recover, I mean it's such a small apartment, not really much room for you to get away from him if he starts to, you know, drive you bonkers."

"Please, less than a year ago I was living with twenty other girls in a house with only two bathrooms. Not to mention a certain slightly crazy, under the control of an ancient evil vampire. This'll be a cake walk."

"I guess. But you know we could get you a cot, and a screen if you needed some privacy. I mean if you needed privacy, cause you know, maybe you don't, it's really none of my business."

Buffy laughed, it really wasn't, but she had a feeling Angel was behind Fred's attempts to talk her out of taking care of Spike. Only the other day Fred had said how nice it would be if they could get Spike out of the hospital and somewhere he'd be more comfortable.

"I'll be fine sleeping on the sofa, and I can change and stuff in the bathroom. Plenty of privacy."

Normally she would have agreed that it was none of Fred's business, but if Angel asked the Texan, she hoped that would satisfy him. The last thing she wanted was Angel checking in on them. Not that she thought Angel would really spy on them, but after she had left Spike's room that first night, she'd pushed the button for the fourth floor in spite of herself. And when the elevator door had opened Angel had been standing right there.

It didn't prove anything. She'd never gone to security, she wasn't even sure security was on the fourth floor. Instead she'd made an excuse about the building being so big, and getting turned around, and she'd left. And so what if he had been watching them? It was just him worrying about her. The stuff Spike had said about him being turned on by voyeurism was ridiculous. Sure maybe that was true about Angelus, but not Angel. Spike didn't know what he was talking about.

"Ahhh"

Buffy spun around to see Spike collapse on the couch. He'd tried to sit down, and without thinking had used his hands, which wouldn't support his weight. She ran to him, to make sure he was all right.

"Get off. I'm fine ya' bloody bint," He tried to pull himself away from her, drawing his arms close to his body, like a young child that didn't want to be picked up. But she ignored his protests, and simply moved his body about, till he was settled.

"The blood's in the fridge, I assume that's all right ma'am."

Buffy glared at the goon. He wasn't really a goon, he was part of the nursing staff, but in Buffy's book anyone who worked for the forces of evil was either a minion or a goon.

"Remember, it may look like a lot of blood, but it's only a day's supply. We'll send over more tomorrow when the doctor comes. He needs lots of blood, so that his body knits those arms on good and strong. Oh, and here's the sheet with the instructions for his exercises. The doctor will probably alter them a bit tomorrow when he sees how he's doing, but it's important. You need to rebuild you're strength and dexterity. Okay Spike?"

"Yeah Fred, I got it. I'll be real good pet. I promise." he smiled at the brunette.

Buffy wanted to smack him. Fred was okay, but Spike seemed to flirt constantly with her, and Fred always seemed to smile and glow a little when he did. She obviously enjoyed the attention. It made Buffy want to sit the scrawny girl down and tell her point by point why it would never work between her and Spike. Not that she thought Fred was really interested in Spike, but that made it worse. Leading the poor guy on like that. Someone should really have a talk with her.

"Well, okay, by then. Good luck guys."

Fred left closing the door behind her. For a moment the two of them just sat there.

"Look Buffy, I appreciate this, but I don't need you to take care of me."

"Uh huh. Spike turn on the TV." she held out the remote. He glared at her for a moment, but refused to back down. He reached out and put his fingers around the remote but they wouldn't curl all the way around it. He tried to lift it out of her hand, but he couldn't close his fingers tightly enough around it, and it clattered to the floor. "See, you might miss Passions."

She put her cheek against his shoulder, and let him put his arm around her. "Seriously Spike. I don't mind. I volunteered for this remember. So just sit back and enjoy it. After all, how many vampires get to have a Slayer take care of their needs?" She regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth.

"Well pet, since you put it like that. . ."

"Spike."

He gave her his best innocent look. "I'm just asking you to take care of the needs I can't attend to myself right now, and a good hand job would really help me relax."

She got up from the couch making a disgusted noise.

"Hey wait. Look Buffy, there is one thing. Please sit back down, it's not about sex, I promise."

She looked at him warily, but he sounded sincere, so she sat back down.

"It's about the blood. It's human you know?"

"No. I thought Angel had a strict pigs blood only policy."

"He does. But it's not like I work there, he may not even know. I asked the doctor's about it back at the clinic, they said it was so I would heal faster. But Buffy. . . the thing is I don't want it. I can't. . ."

"Spike, it really is better for you. And besides, it's from a hospital. I mean, if you were human and lost your arms, they'd give you lots of blood. It's the same thing really."

"Maybe, I don't know. But pet, it's not like it is from a REAL hospital. It's from Wolfram & Hart. How can I know that the people who gave it, really GAVE it. That it wasn't taken. I just, I can't."

"Shh, it's okay. You don't have to." She put her arms around him, and held him. "I'll go to a butchers for you, but Spike, if you're drinking pigs blood, you'll need to drink more okay?"

"Yeah I will. Promise. Thanks pet." His words were muffled as he buried his face against her neck pulling her deeper into the hug.

Buffy snuggled in closer to him. It felt so good, holding him, and being held like this. And there was nothing wrong with it, she told herself, it was just a nice friendly hug. She felt Spike's arms tighten and shift around her, and suddenly he was pulling her onto his lap.

"Now about that other thing," we whispered in her ear as he tried to grind her ass against his erection.

Easily she pulled herself out of his grasp and stood up, hands on her hips glaring down at him. He just looked up at her with puppy dog eyes.

"Butchers. Where is it?" she demanded.

"Come on pet I was only kidding." it wasn't very convincing with the growing bulge in his jeans.

"Spike if you don't want to drink the blood in the fridge I have to go get you some more. So where is the nearest butchers?"

He grumbled but finally he gave in and gave her directions. As soon as she had them, she went straight out the door.

For a moment as the door closed behind her, she felt bad. She was supposed to be taking care of him, and she hadn't even offered to turn the TV on. She'd just left him there on the couch with a hard on, and nothing to do. She imagined that right now he was helplessly plucking at his belt, trying to undo his pants, or maybe he was just trying to rub himself as best he could with his limp hands.

She thought about how desperately he must want her, how deep his need must be, and how he couldn't do anything about it, but sit there with his cock pressing against his jeans and fantasize about her. It must be driving him crazy, she thought. How much he must need her right now.

And then she smiled. Serves him right. It would teach him a lesson. There was no way she could take care of him, if he expected her to get him off when ever he felt the need. It was best if he learn that he couldn't have her. That he could want her and want her, the need could build more and more, until he felt like he was going to burst, but she wasn't going to give in.

Instead she looked at the ring of keys in her hand. They were Spike's, and he'd said something about having a car. She headed to the buildings garage, and hit the button on the key ring until the lights flashed on one of the cars.

It was a black sports car of some sort. She wondered where Spike had gotten it. It didn't really matter, she knew there was no way she could drive the thing, but she wasn't interested in driving it. Instead she got in, and sat in the drivers seat. She ran her hand around the stick shift, and thought, there was defiantly no way she could drive this. Then she unzipped her jeans, and while her right hand moved up and down on the shift, she began to rub herself with her left hand, while she thought about Spike, and how hard he was, and how he couldn't do a thing about it.

Chapter 5 Buffy's Shower

Buffy yawned and stretched. Spike's couch was really not that bad a place to sleep, although she was a little stiff. It was she decided, one of the advantages of being short, she was able to lay almost fully stretched out on the couch.

She lifted herself up, and peaked over the back of couch to check on Spike. When she saw him, she almost wished she hadn't. The night before, she had agreed to undress Spike completely. She knew that he liked to sleep naked, so it wasn't as if he had anything else to sleep in anyway. It seemed too cruel to make him sleep in his jeans.

So she had undressed him, letting his cock free for the first time all day. Of course he'd made all sorts of remarks through the whole process, begging and pleading with her to get him off. Telling her that she could do anything to him she wanted, use him any way she wanted. She had been tempted, there had been a moment, right after she pulled his jeans off his ankles, when he was there on the bed, completely naked, completely hard, when she had thought about just pushing him down and ridding his cock for all he was worth.

But she didn't. She tucked him in under the sheet and went into the bathroom to change into her pajamas and go to sleep herself.

She looked at him laying there, the sheet around his waist, so that she could see his perfect chest. And the place where the sheet was tented. He still had his erection, or maybe it was a new one. Maybe he'd managed to rub against the mattress and get off. She secretly hoped not, she hoped it was the same erection. That he really couldn't get off without her help.

She looked at him, and thought about going over there and gently pulling the sheet off of him. Of taking his dick in her mouth, and sucking it gently, licking it up and down. She wondered how long she could go before he woke up. Could she get him to cum without waking up?

Suddenly she realized that her hand was inside the waistband of her pajamas and that she was touching herself. She stopped. There was no way she was going to let Spike know how horny she was. He would never stop trying to get her to touch him, if he knew.

Quickly, quietly she got up and went over to her suitcase. She sat down and opened it, so that her back was to Spike. If he woke up she wouldn't be able to see any thing in it. She fished out some clothes, plus her body wash. As she was feeling around for some socks, her hand brushed against something smooth and plastic. Her vibrator. Without thinking she wrapped her hand around it, running her thumb across the head of the fake penis, while she looked at the sleeping figure.

This wouldn't do, there was no way she could use the vibrator, even in the bathroom. She suspected Spike's vampire hearing would hear the sound of the motor. Sighing she found her socks, and headed into the bathroom.

She stripped and turned on the shower, waiting for the hot water. She stepped in the shower, and let the water cascade down her face and her hair. She ran her hands down her body stopping to cup her own breasts and squeeze her nipples which were already hard.

She smiled. Maybe she couldn't use her vibrator, but she could still get her self off here. Poor Spike she thought, unable to do this, unable to relieve himself. The doctors had said it would be a week before he could take care of himself. They meant things like being able to get dressed on his own and feed himself, but she imagined him a week from now. With the same erection. A whole week hard and aroused, unable to do anything. She imagined him then, once he was better, standing against the door, so she couldn't leave, while he pulled out his cock and started rubbing himself in front of her.

She stopped touching herself with her fingers, and instead inserted one finger into her core, while her thumb began to rub her clit. In her mind Spike stopped stroking himself, and instead grabbed her and threw her onto the bed. He held her down and kissed her. Forcing his tongue into her mouth, rough and hard and demanding. He looked at her, and he was angry, he held her down and his fingers, strong large healthy fingers pushed inside of her (Buffy moved a second finger inside herself and began to rub herself more vigorously). He was yelling at her, telling her he was going to use her, the way she refused to use him. He was going to keep her. Tie her down, never let her up. Never let her leave. Just fuck her, love her forever. And then his cock was inside of her (three fingers now) stretching her, hurting her. Hard and demanding, and needy. Then he looked in her eyes, and his deep blue eyes changed to gold, before she knew it he bit her, his teeth penetrating her as deeply as his cock.

"Oh God!" Had she said that allowed? She was still catching her breath from her orgasm. Crap, the whole point of the shower had been so he wouldn't hear. Then she laughed. Of course he hadn't heard her. She could have yelled at the top of her lungs and he wouldn't have woken up. Spike seemed to go completely deaf when he went to sleep. She'd never known a noise to wake him.

Although he did have an uncanny sense for movement. Whenever they had fallen asleep together, she had always woken up first, and when she would try and move away from him, no matter how careful she was, he would always wake up. Only that one night in Sunnydale, when he'd held her, had she been able to get away without waking him.

Thinking about that night made her sad. Why couldn't things be like they had been then. Those last few days in Sunnydale had been perfect. Well aside from the impending doom. She'd give anything to be able to sleep with him again. To have him just hold her, like that night. To sit and cuddle and talk about nothing in particular. To feel safe and loved the way he'd made her feel right before the end.

They'd been close to it last night. For a little bit. She'd found an action movie on TV. The kind of dumb violent stuff that Spike liked. It had been fun. Spike didn't mind her criticism of the fight scenes. In fact he joined in. They started talking about what each of them would have done in place of the hero, and argued over the best battle tactics. They were laughing and having a great time, but then came the obligatory sex scene, and Spike went back to trying to get her to give him a blow job.

Buffy sighed, and got out of the shower.

Chapter 6 Spike's Shower

It was her scent that woke him. The hot tangy scent of her arousal, the scent that went straight to his dick. He was already hard though. Idly he wondered if her scent had gradually aroused him, before it woke him, or whether he'd been having a good dream that he couldn't remember anymore.

It was probably the same bloody erection he'd gone to bed with. He'd tried rubbing himself against the mattress, but it wasn't very effective, and knowing that just a few feet away was the bitch who kept teasing him, who could so easily make him cum with her hands, her lips, her breasts, her cunt. No, it hadn't worked, just made him angry. Luckily he was still feeling weak enough, that he fell asleep easily.

Now he lay there. Unwilling to let her know he was awake. So he listened, he focused on the sound of her heartbeat, her breathing. He could hear her bare feet walking across the floor, then she stopped. She was moving something around. After a minute he realized it must be her suitcase. He'd tried to get her to unpack, but she had insisted on leaving her stuff in the suitcase. Afraid he'd go through her things he supposed. Which was absurd, he thought, as he wondered what exactly she had in there.

She stopped her rummaging, and suddenly the scent of her arousal came even stronger. He could hear her heart beating faster, her breathing speeding up. But there was no other sound. What was she doing? Fuck was she touching herself? The thought of watching Buffy masturbate almost got him to open his eyes, but he had that prickly feeling you got when someone was watching you. Of course she was watching him. What else would she be looking at and getting all hot and bothered about.

As much as she'd tried to hide it, he knew how much she'd liked looking at him when she had undressed him the night before. No, she was defiantly looking at him, and if he moved, if he opened his eyes, she'd stop whatever she was doing, and probably start yelling at him. So he lay there, imagining what she might be doing to herself.

It only lasted a moment though. She finished with her suitcase. He heard her zip it back up, and put it back against the wall. He wondered what she'd found in there that had set her off. Black lace panties maybe? No that was what would set him off. Fuck, there was an idea. When she went out for blood, he'd try her suitcase, steal a pair of panties, hopefully the set she was creaming right now. Hide it under his pillow, then tonight when she slept he could breath in the scent, wrap them around his dick.

He heard the bathroom door close, then a few minutes later the shower came on. Quickly he sat up. As long as she was in the shower, he could move about as much as he pleased. He figured he'd have plenty of time while she was drying off to get back in bed, and force her to wake him up. That could be fun in fact.

He went to the bathroom door and stood next to it trying to hear her under the sounds of the water. He couldn't pick up her heartbeat, but he didn't need to. She was panting, and the steamy air from the shower easily carried her scent around the door and to him. There was no doubt in his mind she was masturbating.

That's right baby, can't look at me without needing to get off can you? He tried to imagine what he was doing in her head. Bending her over the couch maybe. Pounding into her. No that was his fantasy again. She'd loved it the one time he'd fucked her up the ass, but that wouldn't be her fantasy. Buffy's fantasies would be sweet, romantic, not rough and violent like his. Yeah, sweet romantic. He could do that. He could do her anyway she wanted, she just had to tell him.

Maybe he was pouring cold champagne down her front. Licking the tiny bubbles off of her nipples. Sucking them, fondling them, gently biting them. Then farther down. Pouring it on her stomach. Licking it out of her belly button. Looking up at her as he gently nipped her, and she looked down on him with those green eyes, adoring him.

Farther down. Licking the inside of her thighs. Running his hands over her smooth skin. Kissing, licking, biting. Moving closer to her pussy, then backing away. Making her beg for it. Beg for him. Not the other way around. And when she begged him, when she made him know how much she needed him to touch her, his fingers would be inside her as his tongue found her clit.

He was pressing his dick against the cool door of the bathroom, listening to her. Wondering how many fingers she had inside herself, wishing that they were, that they could be, his fingers. Her breath was more ragged. It came in short gasps. Cut off. She was trying to be quiet. Trying not to make noise.

And then it came, a low moan "Oh, god," and she came. He was sure of it. He wanted her. His hand reached for the door knob. If he went in now he was sure she'd give in. Let him have her. Push her against the tile and fuck her senseless. But when he tried to grab the door knob, he found he couldn't. His fingers wouldn't quite close around it. He didn't have the strength in them to turn it.

He nearly banged himself against the door. His fingers might be weak, but the rest of his body was okay. He could bash the door down. But he knew that wouldn't get him what he wanted, so instead he crawled back into bed.

He tried to pull the sheets back over himself, but it was frustrating work. He couldn't seem to get his fingers to close around the thin cloth. Finally he gave up lying back. Closing his eyes, he tried not to cry. This was worse than being in that wheelchair, worse than being a ghost. At least as a ghost he hadn't needed anything.

But he was a ghost again. Haunting her. He wasn't real to her. If he was real, she'd talk to him. She used to talk to him. But now, every time he asked her about herself, she changed the subject. She insisted that nothing had happened to her since Sunnydale. All he knew was that she was living in Rome with Dawn, and helping to train Slayers. He tried to ask questions, to draw stuff out of her. But she wouldn't answer. No she didn't have a boyfriend, she insisted, she wasn't seeing any one. But that was it. Nothing beyond that.

Her life in Rome, it was just that, her life, and he was not allowed in. She was just leaving flowers at his grave so that she wouldn't feel guilty about his death. So every time she shut him out, he would start up about how he needed her to jerk him off, or blow him or whatever. He knew it pushed her farther away, but it was better to be rejected because he was being a crude jerk, than because she didn't want to let him in.

It had been different in Sunnydale. It used to be she talked to him. Even when he was evil she had talked to him more. Let him in more. And those last few days. God those last few days, when he knew that he was the closest person in the world to her. When she told him everything. When she cried in his arms. When she let him comfort her, and let him make her laugh. He would give anything to go back to that. Even if it meant he couldn't touch her.

But Buffy would never believe that. She still thought it was all about 'doing a Slayer'. He didn't care about that. Or at least not much. He wasn't even her friend anymore. What she'd said to Angel at the hospital wasn't true. They weren't friends. Not anymore. He was nothing to her. Nothing at all.

"Spike, are you okay?"

She was there, suddenly. Next to him. Sitting on the edge of his bed. Smelling clean and fresh, like vanilla. She reached over and brushed away his tears.

"Spike what is it? Do you need something? Are you in pain?"

"I'm fine pet, just feeling a little useless and imp. . ."

"Impotent?" she smiled at him, "Well, if it makes you feel any better, you're looking very potent this morning," she actually looked directly and obviously at his dick, which he hadn't managed to cover back up with the sheets.

"Oh really?" he tried to move close to her, to pull her on top of him, but she was too quick and got off the bed, readjusting the towel on top of her head.

"Do you want a shower?"

"With you, of course pet."

"By yourself. I'll start the water for you. I just hope I didn't use to much hot water."

He sighed. "It doesn't matter. Vampire, remember. Temperature doesn't bother me much." Except for how cold you are bitch, he thought.

"Too bad, looks like you could really use a cold shower. Come on."

She took him to the bathroom, and turned on the water, and helped him in. She even closed the shower curtain for him. As she left the room she told him to call her when he was done, then she shut the door.

He stood there under the water, dead, empty. He leaned his arms and his head against the wall of the shower. That was the second time she'd seen him crying in almost as many days. He'd tried to tease her. To make it seem like it was no big deal. Tried to make her angry, but she wouldn't get angry. She was just gentle and caring.

He sank down to his knees and began to sob. Hard uncontrollable sobs. He hated her for seeing him like this. For seeing him crying like a child. He tried to be quiet, afraid she would hear. He was terrified, any moment she would come through the door. But she didn't, and after a while he didn't care anymore. He just curled up and cried, letting the water wash away his tears.

Chapter 7: Drying Off

Buffy hummed to herself as she poured some cereal, and warmed some blood up for Spike. She was worried about him. She wished he'd tell her why he was crying. She was fairly sure that she heard him crying again in the bathroom, after she'd closed the door, but she left him alone. He'd tell her if he wanted to.

Besides, it was probably better that he was crying, not trying to hold it all in and be macho. His arms were cut off. That had to be traumatic, and he couldn't like her taking care of him.

That wasn't what really worried Buffy however. Spike was strong, he'd get over all of that. No, it was his apartment that worried her. It was so empty. It didn't look like anyone lived here. Like it was waiting for it's very first tenant.

The bed for instance. She couldn't imagine Spike picking a place to live with a bed that small. He loved to sprawl out as he slept, and that bed was barely the size of the cot in her old basement in Sunnydale.

She just couldn't see how Spike could end up living in a place like this. Nothing in the one room apartment suggested Spike at all. When she'd come here to drop off groceries for herself, before they'd brought Spike back from the hospital, she'd looked through his stuff. What stuff there was anyway.

A couple pairs of black jeans and t-shirts. He didn't even have any of those button down shirts that he sometimes wore. Although maybe he was just tired of sowing the buttons back on. Buffy was fairly certain that she had ripped the buttons off the same midnight blue shirt at least three times.

She knew something was wrong when in the top drawer of the bed-stand she'd found a copy of Playboy, and that was it, the only dirty magazine he had was a Playboy. She'd once stumbled across Spikes stash of porn back in his old crypt and there hadn't been a single Playboy, or Penthouse, or anything she had heard of. No Spike's old collection had made Playboy seem like good wholesome fun for the whole family.

He'd caught her back then. Looking through his stuff. He hadn't been mad, just amused. He asked her what she thought of the picture in the magazine she had opened she had said, "I can't understand what kind of woman let's her self be painted blue, and have fake breasts glued on to her. I mean what's the point of this stuff. It's not like it's real."

He'd turned his head away from her, and she thought maybe he was embarrassed, until she realized he was laughing at her. "Buffy. Pet. She's not painted, those aren't glued on. She's a Kro'kta demon."

"Ewww."

Then he'd convinced her to watch one of his porno movies with him. She hadn't wanted to, but he promised everyone in them was human and suggested that it might turn her on. It didn't turn her on at all. In fact she didn't even believe that people could really do the things in the movie, until Spike showed her that she bent in ways she didn't know anyone could bend. She flushed at the memory. Porno movies were not for her, but the effect they had on Spike had defiantly made up for her lack of interest.

But he didn't have any here in L.A. Other than the Playboy, the only things in the drawer had been a bottle of lubricant, a pair of handcuffs, and of all things, some condoms. That really worried her. What could Spike need condoms for? Was he trying to be more human? Too human perhaps. He might have a soul, but Buffy wasn't sure it was a good idea for him to suppress all the aspects of his vampire nature. If he tried to repress his other lusts, his blood lust might break free.

She realized that Spike had been in the shower for quiet some time now. His blood had gotten cold again, so she put it back in the microwave, and then knocked on the bathroom door.

"Spike are you okay. You haven't turned into a prune have you?"

She could hear some bumping then, "Yeah, I'm all done pet."

She went in, opened the shower curtain, turned off the water, and then got a towel while he got out of the tub.

She noticed right away that he wasn't hard anymore. Maybe he hadn't been crying after all, maybe she'd heard him jerking off. Which was good for him she told herself. After all a minute ago she'd been worried that he was too sexual repressed. But there was something about the look in his eyes, something sad, that told her he wasn't okay. He had been crying.

She started to dry him off. She was so very glad he didn't say anything. All too quickly she had the front of him dry above the waist. She didn't know what to do so she moved around to his back. It wasn't that she was embarrassed, she just didn't know how to dry off certain parts of him without groping. And she really wanted to grope him. She wanted to take his limp dick in her hands, and feel it grow hard.

When she came to his butt, she had some hope. She was able to dry it without 'grabbing' it. Though as she knelt down to dry off the his legs from the back, it was right there in front of her, clean, smooth, cool. She wanted nothing more than to bite it. To mark it as hers, and leave little red ovals all over it's pale surface.

She came back around to his front, and found that she wouldn't have to worry about making him hard, he already was. Again. He still hadn't said anything, but now he was smiling. The light flashed mischievously in his eyes as he waited to see what she would do.

She knelt down in front of him this time, and she saw him lick his lips in anticipation. She smirked at him, and without loosing eye contact she took the towel in her hand, and in one swift gesture she wrapped it around his cock, and gave it one good stroke with the towel, leaving it dry. He moaned softly, "Please?" she smiled are reached between his legs with the towel, and quickly dried off his balls. Then she got up, put the towel on the towel rack and said, "Time to get some clothes on you."

Pouting he followed her back into main room, and sat down on the bed. Getting him dressed was fairly easy, until she lifted up his jeans. He was still hard, and she wasn't sure how to go about zipping him up without hurting him.

"You know, it would be easier if you'd just suck on it."

She glared at him and pressed flat of her palm against the top of his penis, hoping to be able to push it down and into his pants, but he started rubbing against her hand.

She stopped touching him and stood up her hands on her hips.

"Spike." she said firmly, hands on her hips.

"Wha-"

She didn't let him finish, but swept his feet out from under him so that he fell backwards onto the bed. Before he knew it, she was sitting on him, straddling his stomach with her back to him, holding him down with her body so that he couldn't move. Once again she used her palm to push his erection down, and with her other hand, she managed to carefully zip him up.

"There" she said, feeling proud of herself, and getting off of Spike before he got too many ideas.

He sat up and put and arm around her.

"Pet why won't you? It doesn't have to be about me you know. You could use me anyway you like. I'm completely helpless you know. You could do anything to me, and I couldn't do a thing about it," he said suggestively.

"I know. But I can't. Maybe I want to. But I can't."

"Why not, luv. It's me, I don't mind."

She smiled sadly at him and put her hand on his chest, over his heart.

"That's exactly why. Because it's you. You love me Spike, and I couldn't stand to break you're heart, even if it doesn't beat." She got up and moved to the couch. "Do you want to watch some TV?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

Chapter 8: Spider-man, Does Whatever a Spider Can

"Stupid movie," Buffy exclaimed.

"What's wrong pet, I thought you were enjoying it?" Spike was tempted to turn and look at her, but he was too comfortable. Actually Spike was in heaven, or very close to it. He'd been good the rest of the day, and this was his reward, lying down with his head in Buffy's lap as she ran her fingers through his hair as they watched the movie.

"I just think. . . I mean kids watch this stuff. Is that really how we want America's youth to grow up?"

Spike was puzzled. "What? You object to, 'With great power comes great responsibility.' I thought that was on page one of the Slayer's Handbook?"

"Please page one of 'The Slayer's Handbook' is all about how this world used to be just another hell dimension, and all about the Old Ones and stuff. They don't even mention Slayers until Chapter 3."

Spike rolled over onto his back to look up at her. "There's no such thing."

Buffy giggled, "There is really, I swear. Come on, you don't believe that the Watcher's Council has a book for everything?"

"All right, you got me there. So what exactly is your gripe with Peter Parker?"

"I don't have a gripe, I just don't think. . . I mean he's just a bad role model is all. I mean, would you do things the way he did?"

"Well, I don't stick to walls, but can't see much wrong with him, other than the fact that he didn't shag that Mary-Jane into oblivion. I bet she's a real tiger in the sack. Think she's a real red-head?"

"Oh, for God's sake, is that all you think about?" he just smirked up at her. "You know, a relationship is more than just sex."

"Well, yeah, but it's one of the benefits. Look, there in love right? So why shouldn't they shag each other silly?"

"He left her. Remember?"

"So he's young and dumb. Granted. Actually you're right, he's bloody idiot. No man with an ounce of sense walks away from a girl like that."

"A girl like what?" her voice was suddenly quite, shy.

"A girl who loves you. A girl you love."

"What world do you live in Spike. Guys leave girls like that all the time."

He sat up and put one arm around her shoulder. "You obviously didn't get the Girlfriend's Handbook did you?" she looked at him, startled, and hurt. He lifted his other hand, and clumsily tried to brush her hair back away from her face, "You know what it say's on page one?" he smiled, "Men are bloody idiots."

She laughed and leaned in to him, hugging him and resting her head on his shoulder. "So how'd you get a copy?"

"Nicked it."

"So what else does it say?"

"Well, it says that vanilla is a very sexy smell, but not as sexy as a strong independent woman, and that green eyes are the most beautiful in the world. . . oh, and gentlemen prefer blonds, and you deserve beautiful things, diamonds and flowers and silk sheets, and all the happiness in the world. That you should wake up every morning, looking into the eyes of the man you love. Oh, and most importantly, it says that it's not your fault. . . I'm so sorry Buffy."

She looked up at him, resting her hand on his chest. "For what?"

"For Riley. I should never taken you there that night. I did everything I could to get rid of him. If I'd really loved you back then, I would have just wanted you to be happy, even if it was with the tin solider."

"Hey, it was good you showed me. Even if you did it for selfish reasons. I needed to know. He could have gotten hurt, and that wouldn't have been good. No, it was my fault. I never let him know how much he meant to me."

"Yeah, well, then, I know how that goes. . . You know . . . she, she never said it. Not once, in over a hundred years. I mean she would say 'I love it when you hurt me,' or 'I love it when you make them scream.' or even 'I love the way the blo-'" Buffy covered his mouth with her hand.

"I get the idea."

"Yeah, well, she never said she loved me. Never once. So maybe you liked him. Maybe you liked being with him. But maybe, if you never said you loved him, you never really did."

"You're wrong. I told him I loved him. I told him all time, just like I told Angel, my father, Giles. Well maybe not all the time with Giles. Anyway it's not just guys you know. I mean, how many times have I had to convince Dawn that I loved her. That she was the most important thing in the world to me. No it's me Spike. It is my fault. No one ever believes me." Her eyes were starting to tear up. Then she pulled away from him. "Even you. You didn't believe me. No one ever believes me."

He froze for a second. All this time she'd been unwilling to talk about anything Sunnydale related, and now there it was. That wonderful terrible moment when she'd told him that she loved him.

"That was different love. That was the end of the world, and fire and death. You want me to believe you. Then say it. Say it now. Look in my eyes and tell me you love me." He raised his hand to her face, and cupped her cheek, so that she was looking him straight in the eye.

She looked away.

"Say it Buffy. What are you afraid of? You know I love you. You tell me, here and now, and I'll believe it."

Why was he pushing. He knew it was a stupid thing to do. He knew she wouldn't say it because she didn't love him. It was silly to force the issue. All this was going to do was get him hurt, but he couldn't help it. There was the masochist in him. That stupid part of him that wouldn't give up on her no matter what. That said it didn't matter how many times she trampled all over his heart. That just the slightest chance that she might love him, no matter how slim it was had to be pursued, because if she did it was worth any amount of pain along the way.

"Spike," her voice was pleading sorry. He could hear it coming, the 'I just don't feel that way,' or worse yet 'I love you as a friend.' Then her hand came up and covered his hand on her cheek. She finally looked up at him, and for a moment they just sat there, looking deep into each other eyes searching for something.

"Spike. . . I . . .I--"

RING!

Both their eyes looked toward the kitchen area, the spell broken.

RING!

The phone on the wall was ringing.

"Bloody . . . Who the hell?"

"I should get that." Buffy quickly got up and picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

Spike sank back into the couch. Pissed off. Who the hell could be calling him? And why did they have to call now? Not that she had really been going to say it. But for a moment there, he thought. Just a second when he thought she might.

Maybe it was better this way. He didn't really need her to tell him that she didn't love him again.

The credits had finished, and now the annoying menu music was playing on the DVD. He stared in consternation, wondering how he could stop it. Then he noticed the small green light on the front of the Playstation2. Fred had told him that if held that button down until the light went red it would turn it off. She had brought it over that afternoon when the doctor came by. It was supposed to be part of his therapy. Though right now Spike found it too painful to try and curl his fingers around the controller.

Instead he sank down on his knees, and tried to turn it off, but the stupid little button was flat against the front of the machine. He managed to push it a little, but all that did was restart the thing, flashing the FBI warning in front of him. He tried again and again, but he couldn't manage to keep the button held down. Over and over the screen flashed FBI, FBI, FBI. Just when he was about to try throwing the thing across the room, Buffy came back and knelt down beside him and easily turned it off.

He hated her. Hated her for doing that easily.

"Um, that was, that was Angel."

Figures, he thought. It never failed, the moment he had a chance, the moment things were going good for him, Angel inevitably came along and bolloxed the whole thing up.

"He's um, he's coming by to pick me up. He wants to talk about some stuff. So, um, do you want me to put another movie in for you?"

He had no idea what to say to her. He was stunned. This was too much even from her. One moment they were talking, really talking like they hadn't in so long, and now she was running off to Angel. All he had to do was call, and Buffy came running like a little lap dog, eager to lick his hand, and probably other parts as well.

"Wouldn't want to inconvenience you. Don't you have to get ready and all. Big date, shouldn't you be doing your hair?"

"Spike it's not a date, it's just. . . Look if you need me to stay."

He got up and walked away from her.

"Just go. Angel's waiting, right. Just get out of here. I don't need you."

"Spike. . ."

"I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT!"

"Fine, I'll be back."

When he heard the door close behind her, Spike sank down and started crying. Stupid bitch. She wasn't supposed to go. Didn't she know that.

**********

Angel closed the laptop, cutting off the sound of Spike's sobbing along with the video feed.

"Harmony!"

"Yeah boss?" the perky blond peaked her head in the office door.

"Harmony, I need you to go to Spike's, and get him to sign these papers, it's for his treatment."

"Uh boss. I would, you know I would, it's just the Slayer's there, and there was this thing with her sister, and. . ."

"It's okay Harmony. She won't be there. I'm taking her out for a few drinks. I'll give you a ride over there, you can stay out of sight till we leave, and she'll never now you were there."

Chapter 9: Tough Love

"Knock knock," an all to perky voice said. Spike watched in dim horror as the door to his apartment opened, and Harmony stepped through. She had an awful pink dress on with a matching scarf and jacket. Her knee high pink leather boots completed the Water Cooler Slut Barbie image.

"Harm, what on earth are you doing here?"

"Can't a girl worry about her blondie bear?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, and gave her his best, go away you crazy bint look.

"Actually, it's a work thing. You need to sign this. It's about your treatment." She sat next to him on the couch and held out a several page contract and a pen.

"Harm, I can't sign it."

To illustrate his point he tried to take the pen from her, but he couldn't close his fingers tightly enough around it and it fell to the floor.

"Oh god, you poor thing. You're really helpless aren't you?" she started to stroke his cheek sympathetically.

"Stop that, I'm not a bloody kitten." He tried to shrug her hand away.

"I was only trying to help. I want to help. I'm worried about you. All alone with the Slayer. I mean, what were they thinking? She could do anything to you, and you'd be helpless to stop her."

"Harm," his voice was exasperated.

"Anyone could," she said the words slowly, like she did when something occurred to her. Her eyes travelled up and down his body, and suddenly she was smiling.

"You shouldn't be here Harm," he was nervous, "She could come back any minute. And you know how she is. That temper. She's still mad about that that time with her sister." Her hand was on his leg. This couldn't be happening. It was Harmony for god's sake. The worst excuse for an evil fiend that there had ever been.

"Look Harm, baby, I couldn't take it if anything happened to you. You need to leave." She was straddling him. Her hands running up and down his chest. Despite himself, he could feel his dick harden as she squeezed her legs and started to rub up against him.

For a moment he thought about it. After all he was desperate for some release, any kind of release, and Buffy had left to be with Angel. But he knew Buffy would never forgive him. And he'd been so close. No he had to get rid of Harmony.

"Harmony go."

Her hand went between them, and she was unzipping his jeans. Then she began to stroke him. She leaned in close to whisper in his ear. "I don't think so baby." her hand moved off of him, to hitch up her skirt, then she grabbed him again and pulled herself down around his dick. She moaned as he entered her, then she leaned back, so he could see her face once again. Her golden eyes looked into his as she said, "It's time to play."

**********

So far her conversation with Angel was going nowhere. They were just going over the same old ground. He claimed he could use the resources of Wolfram & Hart to do good, and she thought they were just using him as part of some scheme. That that place would end up corrupting him.

"Look, Angel, I appreciate you're trying to work things out, but we obviously can't agree on this, and shouting at each other isn't doing any good. I need to get back."

"To Spike."

"Yeah, he needs me."

"No, he doesn't. Look I have people who can take care of him. You don't have to do this."

"No, I want to. He's my friend, and I'm partly responsible for what happened to him."

"You're not responsible. Spike always leaps before he looks. Be honest Buffy, you're just using him to make me jealous."

"What?! Angel my relationship with Spike has nothing to do with you."

"Relationship? So it's a relationship now?"

"What it is is none of your business. But yeah, Spike and I have a relationship. That's what happens when people stick around. When they don't run off. Relationships develop."

"Please Buffy, how can you call it a relationship when you can't even tell the guy you love him?"

"What was that?"

"Nothing, I'm just saying is it really a relationship, or are you just trying to replace me. You know, one vampire with a soul is just like any other. Is that it?"

"How do you know what I have or haven't said to Spike?"

"I don't KNOW. But I can gu-"

"Oh my god. Angel have you been spying on us? What did you bug Spike's apartment?"

"Buffy that's ridiculous. How would I even do that."

"Hello, evil law-firm, with evil scientists. God, you really did it, didn't you? You're unbelievable."

"Buffy wait. Look I-"

"No I don't want to hear it. I can't hear this. Just leave me alone."

He didn't try to follow her as she ran off, he just sipped his drink. It was too bad Buffy was mad at him. He really did want to come to an understanding with her, there was just no way he could explain why he was at Wolfram & Hart. Even if he told her, she wouldn't believe him, there was no way he could ever prove there had been such a person as Conner.

Still he hadn't meant to let it slip about spying on her. She might never forgive him for that. But that was okay. He knew, they had no future. He'd accepted that a long time ago. However much he might want her, might love her, he knew she deserved better. She deserved the normal life she had always wanted, a life without vampires. Especially Spike.

It didn't matter that she was mad at him. She would get back to Spike only to find him and Harmony going at it. She'd hurt Spike by coming to see him, and Angel was sure that the younger vampire would take the first opportunity to strike back at Buffy.

He went back to his car. He should be able to get back to his office in time to watch the show.

**********

When her cold pussy surrounded him, he gave in. He knew he shouldn't be doing this, but it felt so good. Next it occurred to him that the best way to get rid of Harmony would be to come as quickly as possible and before her. But pride wouldn't let him. It was bad enough that she'd called him helpless, he wasn't going to let her think he couldn't hold his own sexually any more.

But then she pulled back, adjusting herself, so he could go deeper in her, and so she could look at him.

"It's time to play."

And he saw her demon. That's when he knew there was no way this could end well for him. Even if it was Harmony.

He raised his arms up between them, and pushed her back. She wasn't in a very stable position, and he had timed it as she'd been rising up off of him, so she fell back to the floor. He scrambled to his feet, knowing that with his hands useless, they were his best weapon.

"That wasn't very nice. I was just starting to enjoy myself."

He thought of telling her to leave, but he knew what those yellow eyes meant. The more he told her to leave, the more she would insist on staying. Suddenly he wondered if giving in to her might not have been better. That might have bored the demon. No one knew better than him that what the demon loved most of all was to be fought. To feel the victim struggle.

She got to her feet and moved in on him. He tried to kick her, but she got out of the way and before he knew it she had thrown him back onto the bed. His head hit the cross-pipe on the headboard.

She was on top of him. Before his head was quite clear, he could feel her holding his arms above his head as she tied that awful pink scarf around his hands and the railing of the headboard.

"You know baby, this could have been good for both of us. But no. You were always so selfish. Whenever you wanted sex it was 'Harmony get you ass over here' but what about my needs? What about when I needed to be touched? Did you ever even think about that?"

"Harm-"

"No, I'm talking here Spike." She straddled his face bringing her quim directly over his mouth. "Alright, so maybe you did take care of my needs. Sometimes." She stroked his face, and ran her fingers through his hair. "Come on baby. Devour me. The way only you can."

He laughed at her. "You fucking bitch, you think I'm going to go down on you? I always knew you were stupid Harm, but this, this takes the bloody cake." He bent his legs, he was either about to make a fool of himself, or show her just who was the fighter here.

He pushed off from the bed with his lower body, swinging his legs up and around, grabbing Harmony by the throat with his calves. In a quick motion he pulled, flipping her over and off of him. Then, while she was picking herself up off the floor he pulled his legs up to his chest, and rolled, so that he was kneeling, facing the wall.

He knew there was no way his fingers could untie the scarf, but he thought maybe if he pulled hard enough it might break. He pulled and horrible pain spread up and down his arms. A sick feeling rushed through his stomach. The damn scarf was holding and he realized that his arms were more likely to give than the scarf. One good hard yank and he's be free, leaving his hands still tied to the bed.

He looked over his shoulder at Harmony. She'd gotten up and taken off all her cloths except for the pink boots and the pink lace bra she was now removing.

"You never change. I mean I gave you the best years of my life. I loved you, I would have done anything for you. But no. First chance you get, what do you do? Stake me." She pulled a knife off the kitchen counter. Suddenly loosing his hands again didn't seem so bad to Spike as he remembered that only a few hours ago Buffy had used that same knife to slice cucumber for a salad.

"I mean, I didn't care about the ring. It was tacky anyway. I would have given it to you if you'd just asked." He pulled hard against the scarf. The pain was horrible this time. He saw his skin tear around the stitches, but he didn't come free. Instead he almost passed out from the pain.

Harmony was behind him, her breasts pressed against his back. She put the knife to his throat while her other hand grabbed his dick and started stroking him.

"What's wrong baby, is the Big Bad scared?" Her fangs bit into his throat and she began sucking in time to her stroking his dick. He cried out. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd been bitten. The last time another vampire had overcome him, had made him submit. The man, the warrior, were humiliated, but the demon was aroused and he came.

"You see. Selfish." She flipped him back over, forcing him to lie back down on the bed. She put the knife under the hem of his shirt and cut it open. Then she ripped his jeans off of him.

She lay on top of him her lips and teeth red from his blood. Then she kissed him. He tasted his own blood on her lips and her tongue, and the taste made him hard all over again.

"That's a good boy," she mounted him, "Oh Spike baby, see it doesn't have to hurt," she began moving up and down on him, "Much," she ran the knife down his chest, cutting him, but not deeply. She then began to lick the wound, until she was near his throat.

A new fear filled Spike. Harmony didn't know anything about being a vampire, except what he had taught her. She'd been an accident, or maybe her sire had simply been killed before she awoke from her turning. In either case Harmony didn't know the ramifications of what she was doing. If she bit him just right while they were having sex, if their blood mixed, then they would be mated. As it was by forcing him to have sex she'd already dominated him. Had he still been a master vampire she would now be the new master.

"Harm baby, is that good? Do you like it?"

"You taste sweet, and tangy, and strong."

"That's right baby, you go on cutting me. You go on drinking. I'll do anything you want, you know that baby?" It was all right if she drank his blood, as long as she didn't bite him. There was no way he could stand being mated to Harmony.

"Well, yeah," she rose back up, concentrating more on riding him than drinking him.

He started to move under her. No longer fighting her, but trying to get her off. Hoping to distract her that way. Hoping Buffy would come back soon, hopefully with a stake.

Chapter 10: Putting It Back Together

The moment before she'd opened the door Buffy had thought she couldn't possibly be angrier. She was wrong.

The first thing she saw as she entered Spike's apartment, was a naked Spike tied to the bed with one leg bent. Between his legs was the head of a blond who was wearing only pink leather knee high boots.

Just as her mind wrapped around the first image, the blond lifted her head. It was Harmony. A vamped out Harmony with her face covered in blood.

That was when the rest of the scene snapped into place. Blood was running down Spike's arms from the wounds where his hands had been cut off. In fact his whole body was covered with blood. He was even paler than normal. Buffy hadn't seen him that pale since he had fist come to the Scoobies half starved after the Initiative had chipped him. His face was turned toward her, but his eyes were closed. He wasn't moving.

Harmony's face slipped back into it's human form and the knife she'd been holding in one hand dropped to the floor.

"Hey Buffy. How are you? Don't mind me. I was just leaving."

Buffy wasn't really aware of moving. One moment she had been standing in the door. Frozen by the sight in front of her. The next she was on top of the female vampire. Pounding her face. By the time she realized what she was doing, Harmony was already unconscious. Her face unrecognizable.

Buffy looked around for something to finish her off with. She remembered the knife, but when she looked back at the bed she noticed for the first time the bite mark on Spike's neck. That stopped her. There was something about that. About vampire's and biting, but her mind wasn't working well enough to figure out what it was.

Instead she moved to the bed-stand and got out the handcuffs. She then dragged the naked vampire into the bathroom. Unfortunately the bathroom wasn't like Giles old apartment, so Buffy couldn't handcuff her to the shower, instead she had to settle for the pipes under the sink. She just hoped that Harmony didn't try to get free bust the pipes and flood the place.

Her brain was starting to work. She got a couple towels some bandages and a wet rag. Then she went back out to check on Spike.

First she untied him. As she did so she noticed how his stitches had come undone. Or rather, the skin around the stitches had torn. She washed and bandaged these first.

Spike still hadn't woken or moved. His whole body was covered in cuts, although none of them seemed to be deep. His neck however had been pretty badly torn. It must have been a particularly savage bite.

Then she remembered. When she'd first gone to England after Sunnydale had been destroyed, the whole gang had helped Giles go through and catalogue all that remained of the Watchers library. In the section of books that were written by Watchers, she had run across one book called "Blood and Sex Rites Among Vampires". She couldn't help herself. She couldn't imagine what a bunch of stuffy old Watchers could possibly know about vampire's and sex (and figured she had to be the foremost living expert on the subject) so she had taken it to read.

Leave it to a Watcher to make sex clinical and boring. Still she had read a lot of it, and she remembered that there had been something about mating. How if a vampire bit someone during sex they 'mated' with that person. There was maybe more to it, she thought but she couldn't remember. It formed some kind of bond and was the vampire version of marriage.

She couldn't seem to remember all of the details now, Watchers really were long winded, it had been hard to pay attention despite how interested she was, but she was pretty sure that it was bad for one if the mate was killed.

She shook her head. She could worry about that later. She figured Spike would know better than her, and better than some Watcher who died centuries ago.

Right now, she figured, he needed blood. She went to the refrigerator. There wasn't much pig's blood left. There was however the whole days supply of human blood. She hadn't gotten rid of it yet.

The human blood would be better for him, but she had promised. She looked over at the unconscious vampire. No, she wouldn't give him the blood Wolfram & Hart had supplied. Looking at how badly hurt Spike was, the last thing she could do was break a promise, break his trust. Even if it was for his own good.

She took the pigs blood and sat down on the bed, she held him in her arms. She tilted his head back and slowly poured the blood in his mouth. All too soon the pig's blood was gone, but Spike still hadn't moved except to swallow the blood.

She wrapped her arms around him then, and held him to her, like a small child clutching a large doll. Tears began to roll down her face and she began to sob. Letting the tension flow out of her.

After a few minutes, she stopped herself. This wasn't doing any good. She needed more blood for him, but she couldn't leave him, she didn't trust the cuffs to hold Harmony for long. Then she remembered the knife. Gently she put Spike back down, and reached over the side of the bed to grab the knife Harmony had used.

She sat back and stared at her arm. Beneath the skin she could see the dim blue outline of her veins. Those were veins right? The last thing either of them needed was for her to pass out from blood loss. She took a deep breath in and made a small on the inside of her arm just below her elbow. She didn't cut very deep, and the cut was only and inch and a half long. She figured she could always make a bigger cut if she needed to, but she couldn't make the cut smaller.

For a moment she just watched the blood, then she held her arm to Spike's mouth. She sat there, waiting, but nothing seemed to happened. She wondered if maybe she wasn't bleeding enough. She was just about to pull her arm back when she heard a snarl and pain ripped through her arm.

Instinctively she started to pull back before she remembered that this was what she wanted. Her heart started thrumming in her hears. Spike wrapped his arms around hers, pulling he closer, holding her tight. The pain faded, instead there was a dull ache in her arm.

She was suddenly aware of the blood flowing through her veins. The life she was giving to him. She could feel her heartbeat, her pulse, throbbing between her legs.

His rough tongue licked her wounds, and she let out a gasp. Then a moan. She was vaguely aware that she was calling his name.

Time seemed to stop, nothing was real except the gentle pull of Spike's mouth. It went on and on. Her need rising. She began to feel light headed, and then suddenly the pulling inside her stopped, the weight in her lap shifted, and she found herself staring into golden eyes
Chapter 11 Dominance

At first there was just instinct. The scent of blood in the air, the taste of it as it dribbled down his tongue. There was no conscious thought as his fangs came out, as they bit into the flesh that was offered to them.

Slowly as the coppery elixir flowed down his throat, thought came. But not human thought.

Unlike Angel his unlife was not a constant battle between his soul and his demon. Rather they existed together in a sort of alliance. After all, it was the demon that had chosen to let the soul back in.

The man, the soul had retreated deep inside during Harmony's blood play knowing that the demon was better equipped to deal with the situation, and knowing that, soul or not, Spike was still physically a vampire. Would still respond as a vampire.

As soon as he began to be conscious, he knew whose blood it was that he tasted. The demon reveled in it. Slayer's blood. Buffy's blood. He could feel her blood coursing through him, making him strong, healing him.

Then he felt her heartbeat begin to waver. The demon, still acting on its own, reigned itself in. Spike the demon had no more desire to hurt Buffy than Spike the man.

Besides, he could smell her arousal and it thrilled him to know that that was how she responded to his bite.

He rolled over to look at her, then drew himself up so he was lying on top of her, their faces level. He was hard, painfully, deliciously hard. He felt as if he could fuck her for days without loosing his erection.

He sucked the blood from his teeth, and began moving against her. Her legs which had been cradling him, stayed open to him, allowing him to run the length of his cock up and down against her damp panties. She moaned, and slid down further under him, bringing her legs around his waist, holding him close. Her hands rose up to trace the ridges of his demon face.

Then he heard it. So quiet, barely audible to him, even with his demon senses. A tiny sound in the bathroom. And he realized for the first time that what he smelled was not the left over scent of Harmony on her discarded clothes, on him, on the bed. But her, still whole, still here, still not dust.

He roared. Rage filled him. The humiliation returned. His demon knew its worth, its viciousness, knew it was better than Harmony, knew that she should never have been able to have an advantage over him. Knew she was meant to be subservient to him.

He pulled away from Buffy, how could he touch her, take her, claim her, if he wasn't worthy of her? She was weak now, but her strength would return and the demon was sure she would look down on him in disdain. This thing that had been made helpless by the pathetic blond demon. But he could make it better, he could be worthy of his golden warrior again.

He got up off of her, off the bed. She wasn't strong enough to hold him, and with her blood in him he was so very strong. He didn't hear her as she called after him.

He had only one goal. Harmony.

There was, after all, a price for everything. The price a vampire paid for eternal youth was loosing its soul, having a demon walk around inside its skin. Never being able to see the light of day again.

At least that was the most commonly talked about price. There was another. To be a vampire was to be caught in a special, violent, bloody, social web. The lone vampire existed, but was rare. Naturally vampires sought out more of their own kind, they formed packs, and once you had any two vampires together, the struggle for dominance began.

It was a deeply disturbing for two vampires to be together without a pecking order being established. Without one dominating the other. Every vampire longed to be the Master, the dominant one, and yet at the same time, there was a secret thrill in being dominated.

Now it was time for Spike to take back his place. To be Master once more.

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

She lay there on the bathroom floor, covered in blood, his blood. Helpless, handcuffed to the sink.

She expected the Slayer to come back at any moment and finish her. She couldn't understand why she wasn't dust already.

But it was Spike who entered the bathroom. Still fully naked, and now fully erect. The wounds she had inflicted on him were gone, healed completely. Only his arms, where that other slayer had mutilated him bled.

He looked her over and she could tell that the sight excited him, and angered him. He had dominated her a hundred times before, it wouldn't take much to reassert himself over her, but still, he had wanted to beat her down, to remind her how strong he was. But there was little point with her bound like that.

She looked up at him with large human eyes. "Blondie Bear?" her voice, her scent were smothered in fear.

She lay on her side, so it was easy for him to roll her over onto her stomach with his foot. Then he descended upon her. She tried to be seductive, tried to blunt his anger by showing her willingness, by rubbing her ass against his cock.

He let her think it had worked, gave into it for a moment. But only a moment. As she began to raise her ass again, he shifted above her, positioned his cock above her, and drove deep inside her with all his strength.

She screamed. The sound of her scream, the way she bucked under him once, then tried to hold still to easy the pain was nearly enough to send him over the edge. It had been so long since the demon had gotten to play like this.

Her tight anal passage was dry at first. The friction as he began to pump her painful to both of them. He reveled in it. But it didn't take long for his harsh fucking of her to tear her. And soon her blood acted as a lubricant. But it was before that happened that Harmony started moaning his name.

"Oh, god Spike!"

She was after all a vampire too. Just as he had been aroused by her own aggressive sexual acts, she too responded, although far more emphatically than he had. For both of them this was a return to normality. And despite herself Harmony couldn't help but think that maybe now she would have her Blondie Bear back.

His fangs tore down her back. He didn't bite her, just slit her open and began to lick her wounds, as she had done earlier with the knife.

It was too much for Harmony, he was back. Her Spike. No more of this Slayer nonsense. She would be his again. He would claim her over and over. Her big bad boyfriend who was tougher than any other vampire she had ever met. This was the way things were supposed to be. At that moment she could forgive him anything.

"Spike?"

Harmony's elation was destroyed, only moments before her orgasm was about to hit. The Slayer stood in the doorway watching them, tears rolling down her face, with a little lost girl look that Harmony would have killed to be able to pull off.

From the moment Spike had entered her, Harmony had forgotten about the Slayer. Now Buffy was here, a horrible reminder of all the bad things that had taken her Blondie Bear away from her.

His face changed. The snarling demon Harmony loved replaced by the blue eyes she had loved, before they had been filled with a soul.

"Buffy? Fuck!" Spike swore as he quickly tired to pull himself off and out of Harmony.

"What. . ? No, never mind. I. . . oh God you're Mated aren't you?" the Slayer whimpered and pulled her arms tightly about herself. Harmony noticed that her left arm was bandaged, and the Slayer wasn't looking very steady on her feet. Since they were both ignoring her, Harmony thought this might be a good time to see if she could quietly break the hand cuffs.

"Mated?! God no. Are you daft?" Spike was confused and angry. "How the hell do you even know about Mating?"

"I read about it."

"You READ about it?"

"Hey, I can read you know. Oh, you mean, as in, what's that sort of thing doing in a book. I told you, Watchers have books for everything, including vampire sex lives. And you had this horrible bite mark. . . "

"Which is gone now right pet? Mating marks are permanent, and noticeable, they scar forever," his voice softened for the first time.

Buffy punched him. Even Harmony could tell it wasn't much of a punch, not because they Slayer's heart wasn't in it, but because she was too weak hit him properly. They stared at each other for a moment. Then Buffy ran out of the bathroom crying.

"Buffy?"

"How could you Spike? I mean Harmony? And after what she did to you? Or was that voluntary? A little vampire high-jinx that got out of hand?" the Slayers words were barely understandable through her sobbing. Then she started to yell, "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I can't. . . we can't have this discussion here. We have to get out of here."

"Buffy?"

"Angel, he's got the placed bugged. Maybe a camera, I don't know. I just, god I don't even want you to see me like this."

After that all Harmony could hear was lots of cursing and bumping sounds. They were leaving, which meant they'd forgotten all about her. Which Harmony couldn't say she really minded, considering. She hadn't made much headway with the cuffs, although she thought that if she gave it a good yank or two she could bust the pipe she was cuffed to. Unfortunately that was likely to cause water to sploosh all over her, and her boots. She really loved those boots, and ruining them would be a last resort.

She was so caught up in her escape she didn't notice when the Slayer came back into the bathroom. Casually Buffy Summers reached into the shower and grabbed her shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. Then she turned toward Harmony, stake in hand.

"Just for the record Harm, this isn't for what you did to Spike. This is for what you did to him wearing those boots."

"Hey, I'll have you kno-" but Harmony just wasn't anymore. And Buffy Summers shook the dust off her skirt.
Chapter 12: Shame

Buffy lay down on her side on the closest of the two beds in the hotel room, and curled up into a little ball. But before she could say anything Spike broke in.

"He was watching? He saw? Or could he just hear? Fuck. He'd know either way," he was pacing back and forth across the small room, like a four year old vampire on a sugar high. Buffy was half convinced he would literally start bouncing off the walls any minute. It just made her more tired.

"Spike. Stop. Sit."

He ignored her.

"That bastard. He sent her didn't he?"

"I guess. I mean, it's hard to see this as a coincidence," Buffy was starting to get scared. It's not that she'd never seen Spike angry. But this was different somehow. Then it occurred to her that maybe he wasn't angry. Or rather maybe what she was seeing wasn't the anger, that it was something else.

She tried to remember what it was that she had seen when she had first gotten back. It had looked like, well it looked like Harmony had maybe raped Spike.

That was a concept Buffy didn't really know how to deal with. The idea of a man being raped by a woman just didn't fit in her ideas of the world. It certainly wasn't helped by the fact that the man and woman in question were Spike and Harmony.

But it made Spike's current state make more sense. When Spike had nearly raped her, she had hated the fact that Xander had found her. That he had some idea of what had almost happened. It seemed like another invasion of her privacy all over again.

And now Spike knew that Angel knew, not just knew but maybe had seen the whole thing. Or at least had it on tape to play over and over again. It was one thing for your best friend to find out you had been a victim, it was another for your worst enemy to know.

It wasn't anger she was seeing, it was shame.

"Spike. Stop. Please, just sit down and tell me."

To his credit he did stop his tearing about the room to stand over her on the bed and look down.

"Tell you what? What could I possibly have to say to you?"

She crumbled under his harsh words. She'd been trying to pull herself back together, tried to be strong. But it hurt.

It hurt her that something awful had happened to Spike, not to mention all the guilt from the fact that she was supposed to be taking care of him right now. Looking after him.

It hurt her that Angel had betrayed her trust by spying on her.

It hurt her that he might have had anything to do with Harmony's attack.

It hurt her to wonder if Harmony had been attacking Spike at all. If maybe she really had interrupted something consensual.

It hurt her to think that maybe she'd driven Spike to do something like that by teasing him.

And most of all it hurt her that he had been on top of her one minute, and then on top of Harmony the next.

So Buffy the Vampire Slayer just lay there and sobbed.

Spike seemed to melt. All the anger, or shame, or whatever it was, just drained out of him. He knelt down next to her, and tentatively reached out his hand to stroke her hair.

"Shh, pet. I'm sorry. God I'm sorry that you saw me like that."

"Like what? What. . . what was that Spike?" there she had said it. She had asked. She was terrified of the answer, but she had asked.

"That. . . Look it's like this," Spike didn't seem any surer than she was of what happened. That didn't comfort her at all. Her took in a deep breath. "Before you got there, Harmony, she. . . Look she-" he was stumbling, looking for a word he didn't have.

"Raped you?" Buffy barley whispered the words. She couldn't believe she had said them.

"What? No. It's not. . . Look I'm a vampire see. And vampires, this is what they do pet. It's not pretty, but we force ourselves on each other all the time, it's. . . well it's all about who's on top really," he sighed, unhappy with the obvious metaphor.

"So in others words, rape."

He looked at her exasperated like she was missing a very big obvious point.

"No look, it's not about the sex. Harmony, she stopped doing anything for me ages ago. It's about power you see."

"So once again, rape."

He turned away from her, tried to make it look like it was because he was frustrated that she wasn't understanding him, but she rather suspected that she had hit too close to home.

"Look she did to me, I did to her, that's all there is to it Slayer. I'm sorry if I offended you, scared you, but this is what I am. This is what the demon is, what it does," he was trying to sound nonchalant, but Buffy could hear the edge of desperation? sorrow? in his voice.

"Spike, hold me," it wasn't what she meant to say. She meant to scream at him to let her in. To give up his silly walls and tough guy attitude. She wanted to say something to make it better for him. Instead she found she could only voice her own needs.

He looked at her puzzled, but he got up from his crouch and moved around to get on the bed behind her. She could feel him stretch out, then he put his arms around her, and rested his chin on her shoulder.

It might have made things better for Spike, but somehow it made it all worse for her. It was too much like those last nights in Sunnydale, and nothing like them all at once. She wept even harder and twisted around so as to burry her face in Spike's chest.

There was a sort of contentment in Spike as her held and rocked Buffy to sleep. Stroking her hair, holding her, whispering in her ear. He could forget why she was crying and just concentrate on making her feel better.

All that changed once she was asleep though. First of all he was still wired from Slayer blood. Just lying still was an incredible effort, but Buffy was wound all around him. There was no way he could untangle himself without waking her up.

Then there was the smell. He could still smell Harmony all over himself and the scent disgusted him. It made his skin crawl, and his stomach turn. In fact he started to think he would actually throw up if he didn't get the scent off of him.

That was what decided him. He figured Buffy would rather be woken up by him shaking her, than by him throwing up blood on her.

"Buffy?" he shook her gently calling in her ear.

"Mmmm, what?" came her annoyed voice.

"I'm sorry to wake you love, but. . . I really need to take a shower."

"Hmm?" she mumbled not fully awake.

"Pet, look, I smell like Harmony all over, I-"

She sat straight up.

"Oh, my God. I'm so sorry, I should have thought. . . I mean, I should have known you'd want to clean up. Come on."

A/N Feedback on this chapter would be much appreciated. It was a difficult one to write, and I hoped I stayed true to the characters. Any opinions would be welcomeChapter 13: Lather, Rinse, Repeat

Buffy sat on the edge of the bathtub running her hands under the water to test the temperature.

"Buffy it doesn't really matter how hot it is. I just want to get clean."

She flipped her hair over one shoulder.

"Yes it does. Standing under the water isn't going to get you clean Spike. And I'm very temperature sensitive."

If his heart could beat, it would have skipped a beat right then. Not that he really believed that she was offering what it sounded like she was offering.

Satisfied she turned off the water and shook the excess off her hand. Then she went back into the main room. She came back a minute later carrying the bottle of that scented liquid soap she used and some sort of netting that had been bound together to make a sort of yellow powder puff.

"What's that for?" Spike asked warily.

"To clean you silly, what you're not afraid of a luffa are you?"

"I just don't want to end up like some sweet smelling nancy boy."

"You don't like the way I smell?" she said in her best innocent voice.

As he tried to think of a response to that that wouldn't get him in trouble, Buffy began to strip, which distracted him completely.

She did it methodically, as if she were the only one in the room. Not as if she was trying to seduce him. Which he found all the more seductive. She neatly folder her clothes and lay them on the sink. Then she turned toward him.

She approached him and hooked her fingers under the hem of his shirt, and ran her hands up his chest as she helped him off with his shirt. He trembled as her fingers touched him. Her hands were so hot he thought that you might be able see a trail of red down his chest where she had touched him.

Then she was kneeling before him, her fingers working the laces of his boots. She looked up at him and smiled.

Looking down on her kneeling naked before him, her bright green eyes staring him straight in the face, he felt his jeans tighten across his hips.

He stepped out of his boots, but she stayed kneeling as she undid his belt and zipper. As his dick sprang free, her hot breath tickled it and he couldn't help but moan. She helped him out of his pants then she grabbed his forearms and lead him to the shower. A moment later hot water was splashing down on both of them.

It took all his will power not to say something or reach out and touch her. He had no idea how she'd react to that. Somehow she had finally mastered that nonchalant, 'This is all business,' attitude that she'd been striving for since they first left the hospital. He had no idea what to make of it. So he didn't say anything.

She had worked the soap into a lather, and began to scrub him hard with the luffa. He loved the rough feel of it as she started to rub away the top layer of his skin. As one hand scrubbed him the other always lay lightly on his chest as if she needed it to steady herself.

She had scrubbed his chest and arms when she stopped suddenly, and caught his eye.

"Spike?" she moved in close to him so there body's were just barely touching. Her nipples hit his chest with every breath she took. His dick was pressed against her stomach, the very tip of it pressed down a little so that it was tickled by her hair. "Is this okay? I mean is this the right thing to do?"

"You're asking me to be your moral compass, pet?" he couldn't help but chuckle. Not only was he not the best moral judge, but he thought there was no way he could actually turn her down.

She smiled at him.

"Spike, you and me, we're fast healers. The broken bones, the cuts, the scrapes, the burns. Not a big deal. You've been though things that I can't even. . . that I don't want to imagine. The fact is, you're the toughest person, the toughest demon I know." She placed her hand above his unbeating heart and looked him dead in the eyes. "You're also the most vulnerable. So yeah, I'm asking you if this is all right."

He closed his eyes to let her words sink in. To just enjoy them for what they were, even if he wanted to hear her say more. He was about to answer her when she broke in.

"Now. Um, I mean not that you have to answer now. I mean, I want to know if this is all right now. I mean, this isn't a now or never deal. A lot's happened tonight. So. . . um."

He almost laughed at her. At her transformation from sure confident woman, to the more normal, terrified of anything that resembled a relationship Buffy.

Instead he kissed her. Gently at first, barely touching his lips to hers. Testing her, to see if she really did mean what she said.

The moment their lips touched she leaned into him. Pressing her body firmly against his, and running her fingers through his hair. She opened her mouth to him, and he eagerly sent his tongue in to explore her. She excepted him and moved her own tongue in to explore his mouth. Slowly, deeply they kissed.

Finally Buffy broke for air. He tried to pull her back in for another kiss but she pulled away from him.

When he gave her a hurt look she flashed him a wicked smile and said, "I'm not done washing you yet. Now turn around."

He wanted to go on kissing her, but then it occurred to him that she had yet to wash him anywhere below the waist so it might be in his interest to obey her.

When he turned around she kneeled behind him, she cupped one of his cheeks with one hand, while she scrubbed the other one with the other hand. Once she had thoroughly scrubbed the one cheek she kissed it, nipping him just a bit as she did.

He growled appreciatively, causing her to giggle.

Then she was scrubbing his other side. To his disappointment the second cheek didn't receive the same attention the first had. When she was done with it she went on to clean his legs. He grumbled a little wondering if she was playing the sort of game where he was expected to beg.

Then she was done and he felt her hand begin to kneed his ass.

"Did I ever tell you what a nice ass you have?" she asked. Before he could respond her mouth was back on his ass, but this time she didn't nip him. Instead she bite him, hard enough to leave a mark.

He groaned. She was marking him up and down, leaving teeth marks like brands, and he was more than willing to let her claim all of him.

"Now turn back around," she said.

He did and now the shower was hitting him in front again. Buffy was still on her knees, her hair plastered down to her by the water that grazed the back of her head and ran in little rivers down her front.

She had picked up her bottle of body wash and was squeezing it unto her hand. Then she grabbed his dick with that self same hand, and began running her hand up and down his length.

Once she had a good lather worked up she paused, getting soap on her other hand. Then as one hand went back to working his dick, her other sweet little hand reached lower, between his legs and started rubbing soap onto his balls.

"Oh, god Buffy!" he cried. He began trying to run his fingers through her hair but he couldn't loosen her wet locks from her head, so instead he simple stroked it, as her slippery fingers worked him over.

Just as he felt he couldn't hold back anymore, she stopped and turned her body, holding her hands and arms directly in the stream of the shower, to wash the soap off of them. He watched as the bubbles ran down her arms. Then she ducked out of the way, so that the shower hit him in full and began to rinse him off.

"I want you inside me,"

"Not in here, pet, not too sure of my footing and I can't catch myself if we slip."

She nodded and turned off the shower, rung out her hair, and stepped out. Then to his disappointment she wrapped a towel first around her hair, and then another one around herself.

"Come on, let's get you dried off," she said.

She had another of the hotel's big, fluffy, towels in her hands. He stepped out and let her dry him off again except that this time she was groping him through the towel. When she was done with his body, she ran the towel over his head a couple times, whisking the excess water out of his hair. Then she left the towel on the floor and pulled him into the next room.

She sat him down on the bed, and then moved back, out of his grasp. She then removed the towel around her body and began to dry herself off. She did it slowly, letting the towel glide against her skin. She used the towel to cup her breasts and he could see her shiver with pleasure as the fabric ran over her nipples.

Then she moved a little closer to him, with a look that clearly said, 'No touching yet.'

She lifted one leg, and placed her toes on the edge of the bed. Then she bent forward and ran the towel up her leg as if she were putting on her stockings. Then she dried off the other leg in the same fashion. She dropped the towel to the ground and pulled the other towel off her head and tossed it to the floor.

As she shook out her wet hair she said, "It's a good thing we have two beds."

"Why's that pet?"

All of a sudden she was straddling him, her knees up on the bed on either side of him, her chest pressed against his. Her dripping folds hovering above his dick.

"Because there's no way I can wait till my hair dries." Chapter 14: Bite Marks

He pulled her into a deep kiss and then rolled her over so that he was now on top of her. For a moment she thought of wrestling him for the position. But after only a moment on her back, her tiredness hit her once more. He'd got lots of energy, Buffy thought, maybe I'll let him do the work.

His lips and tongue left her mouth and began to travel up her jaw line to her ear. He nibbled it for a second, and then he began to move back down. Before his mouth could travel down further than her collar bone she wrapped her legs around him to hold him in place.

"No, I need you inside of me now."

"But pet, I haven't ev. . . "

"Now," she said in a more demanding voice.

He smiled at her and pulled himself back up so he was positioned above her. She reached down between them to guide his cock toward her waiting core. She positioned the head of his cock at her entrance and they held their position for just a second letting the tension between them build. Then when Buffy thought she couldn't wait another moment he pushed his way inside of her.

She screamed in delight and Spike cried out, "Fuck, you're so tight."

He was right. She could feel him stretching her open, her body no longer used to encompassing his width. His weight, his feel was so familiar, and yet the pain of his entry made it seem almost new.

He was holding still above her, letting her adjust to him. He looked her in the eyes and asked, "I'm not hurting you, luv, am I?"

It seemed like it took her an eternity to get enough breath to speak. She always felt like her breathing was out of control when Spike was inside her. Like having him inside didn't leave enough room for oxygen.

"Only in a good way." To emphasize her point she pulled her legs up till her knees where almost touching her chest, to allow him deeper access, and then wrapped her legs around him so that her heels dug into the small of his back.

He smiled and bit his lower lip. Then he began to move on top of her. He pushed in and out of her with long hard strokes, gentle and demanding all at once. But Buffy wanted none of that. Her need was too great. It had been so long since she'd had anyone, since she'd had him. She didn't need to be taken gently, she needed to be fucked thoroughly.

"More! Faster!" was the best she could articulate her needs, but she could use her legs to encourage him to pick up the pace.

Spike obliged, pushing into her with more and more force. The base of his cock hitting her clit every time he rammed into her.

His forehead was pressed to the bed next to her and his breath tickled her as he spoke to her, "So tight, so hot. Need you. Want you. Beautiful. Buffy."

His mouth was on her neck, kissing, licking, sucking up and down. Then he bit her.

It sent her over the edge.

It was only his blunt human teeth, nothing he hadn't done to her before. But her body still remembered his other bite of only a couple hours ago. The sweet pain as his fangs had sliced her skin. The pull as he sucked the very life out of her.

Her fingers that had been raking his back, moved to his head, and she held it in place against her. Her whole body turned into a vise that tried to squeeze him into her as her body rocked violently with her orgasm.

As the spasms passed her hands fell limply to her sides. She felt the lethargy of his bite return. She couldn't remember having felt this spent in her entire life.

But Spike wasn't done yet, he was still moving in and out of her, and despite her own tiredness, it thrilled her to feel him still pumping her. Stretching her.

He looked up at her and she could see concern in his eyes, but what it was for she couldn't fathom. It bothered her though, she needed to distract him from what ever it was that was keeping him from his release. And she knew exactly how to do that.

"Tell me I'm your girl," she prompted, "Say I'll always be your girl."

Bingo!

The confusion left his eyes, and was replaced by a look of surprise and then bliss.

"Always," he cried, pumped in her one last time. Then she felt his body tremble as he came.

She let him lie still on top of her as he recovered from his own orgasm. Then she rolled them both onto their sides, burrowed her head into his chest, closed her eyes, and was asleep.

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

Why can't you just be happy? a little voice in the back of his head asked. Isn't this everything you've ever wanted?

Looking at the sleeping woman in his arms, he had to admit that if it wasn't everything he wanted, it was pretty damn close.

Still his unease wouldn't go away.

And to think, he'd been worried that without full use of his hands he couldn't get her off. Never in his existence had he thought he would be worried about having brought a woman to orgasm too easily. But there it was, staring him in the face. It wasn't him she wanted, it was his bite.

Looking back earlier that evening it seemed all too clear. Whatever her body had wanted, Buffy had had the willpower to say no to him, to rebuff him, for more than a year. This is until he'd bitten her.

When he'd awoken with her blood in his mouth, the demon had been sure her arousal was because of the bite. Spike found himself now agreeing.

He looked down at her and brushed the still damp hair back away from her neck. There they were, standing in sharp relief to her skin. The little white bumps that showed where other vampires had bitten her. Despite everything she'd been through, all the fights, the only marks on her body, her only scars where these.

Now he knew those scars went deeper than the skin. He was the fourth vampire to bite her, and that he knew, was more than enough. Some humans began to crave the bite after only being bitten once, assuming they lived.

She's the Slayer, he reminded himself. She's not really addicted. Couldn't be. Wouldn't make sense. A Slayer's bound to be bit a time or two. There must be a natural immunity. Otherwise, Slayers would end up getting themselves killed, looking for the bite, all the time.

It was a comforting thought, and he repeated it over and over in his head, not letting himself dwell on the fact that most Slayer's didn't live as long as Buffy Summers already had.
Chapter 15: Evil Vampire Logic

She woke up feeling rested. Her strength was back.

A stray lock of hair fell in front of her face and she brushed it back. As she did so her fingers got caught in a snarl. Crap, she thought, I went to sleep last night with wet hair. Not to mention all the rubbing her head against the pillow during sex.

She reached behind her head. Yep, her hair was one big, giant, knot. She tried to wiggle out of Spike's grasp without waking him. She defiantly wanted to do some major conditioning before he saw her.

"Where do you think you're going?" a deep voice asked as arms snaked around her, dragging her back onto the bed.

"Eeep. Don't look at me. Must wash hair."

He laughed, and his breath tickled her back. "You look beautiful to me," he said as he began kissing his way from her shoulder up to her mouth.

She kissed him back, knowing the best way to fight Spike was not to struggle but go along with him. Her plan was to get on top of him, and make her escape from there. The only problem was once she was on top of him, she found she didn't want to move.

Their kissing becoming more passionate and slowly evolved into groping. Just as Buffy was thinking it was time to take matters, and Spike, into her own hands and move things along, there was a knock at the door.

"Housekeeping."

"No, we don't need. . . We're good thanks," Buffy yelled out, turning bright red.

The door, which had just started to open, shut again and Buffy breathed a sigh of relief.

Spike was laughing at her.

She sat up on top of him, put her hands on her hips, and said, "What? So I didn't put the sign on the door. They shouldn't be coming around this early in the morning anyway."

Spike wiggled under her with laughter. His eyes were shinning with it. "Pet, it's 11:47. Been a while since I kept regular hours, but as I recall that's not all that early."

"Oh crap," she said, and to his dismay escaped from the bed.

"Hey! Where do you thing you're going?"

"I have to get my hair untangled, and get dressed, and go out. I need to get you blood, and I still don't know what to do about Angel now that he's gone crazy," she said while moving toward the bathroom.

"He's not crazy, he's just Angel, luv," he said with resignation in his voice. He got up to follow Buffy into the bathroom so they could continue their conversation.

"Nuh-uh. You're not getting in the shower with me. That's how I ended up with a rat's nest as a hair do in the first place. And you're wrong about Angel. What he's doing. It's not him. That place it's doing something to him."

Spike dutifully stood outside the shower so they could continue the conversation without getting too distracted. Which was good, Buffy told herself. Even if she was a bit disappointed.

"Look, I'm not saying ruling the Evil Empire hasn't gone to his head. But Buffy, he's always been like this. You just didn't see it before."

"Once again, you're confusing Angel and Angelus. Look I'm sure you know Angelus much better than me, but it's not like you ever knew Angel. You what, punched each other a couple times?"

"I know you think you know him, Buffy. But answer me this: When you and Angel were an item, it was all roses and candy wasn't it?"

Even though he couldn't see it through the shower curtain, Buffy still rolled her eyes in a dramatic and exaggerated manner.

"Yes Spike. You know, not all guys think the way to woo a girl is to try and kill her."

"My point exactly. A fella starts pursuing a pretty young thing, he shows her his best face, so to speak. Not to mention, he didn't have a reason to stalk you when you were dating, now did he?"

"That's ridiculous," so was the mess she'd made of her hair. Just trying to work the conditioner through it was a real pain.

"Is it? Tell me sweets, was he upfront at the beginning about being a vampire?"

"No, but that doesn't count. Hello, vampire slayer here, or have we forgotten?"

He chuckled, "Not for a second pet. But he was real upfront about it. You know. Once you knew him, he told you right away?"

"Well, not right away. . ." This, Buffy reminded herself, is exactly why things with Spike were complicated. Just cause he had a soul didn't mean he'd given up on his evil, twisted, vampire logic. She hated it when he used evil logic.

"But he did tell you right? Came right out and said it. Walked right up to you and said, 'Buffy, you know how I'm a big brooding poof. Well that's cause I'm a vampire. But never fear, for gypsies cursed me to an eternity of flogging myself.'"

Buffy looked around the shower for a weapon. She found only the bar of soap provided by the hotel, and as always improvised. She grabbed the soap, concentrated for a moment, then tossed it over the shower curtain.

"Ow. Hey watch it. I'm defenseless out here."

She giggled.

"Still haven't answered my question, luv. Did Angel come right out and tell you or not?"

Damn, evil vampire. Refusing to be distracted by flying soap. She needed something that would cause a concussion, or at least memory loss.

"Fine. Fine. You're right okay. He didn't tell me. Ever. I found out he was a vampire when we were kissing and he vamped. He didn't even tell me about the soul until Darla mentioned it after trying to frame him for attacking my mom."

The was a thump. Oh god. I did give him a concussion, Buffy thought. It's just a delayed reaction soap concussion. Then she realized she also heard laughing. She peeked out of the shower to see Spike lying on the floor, curled into a ball, and laughing hysterically.

"Sure, laugh at my teenage angst. Let's all mock Buffy's worst romantic moments." She had half a mind to get out and thump him proper, even if he was rather ridiculous looking lying there laughing.

"I'm not. . . laughing. . . at . . . you." To her relief he seemed to be regaining control. Which was good, because out of control vampires never a good thing, even if they didn't seem to be doing anything other than providing a laugh track to her life. "It's just so . . . pathetic."

"Pathetic? You think I'm pathetic Mr. I spent a hundred years mooning after a crazy dead slut. Get out." Oh god, Spike thought she was pathetic. She closed the shower curtain, and hid within the safety of the shower. "Out!"

"Buffy? No, you do-"

"I said get out!" she was yelling now. How could he mock her like that. Didn't he understand how hard it was for her to talk about the past. How obvious all her mistakes were. Did he think she didn't know how young and stupid she'd been with all her notions of true love conquers all.

The shower curtain was swept open and Spike stepped in.

"Buffy? You're crying, aren't you. I'm sorry. Shouldn't have brought up the past."

She tried clumsily to push him away, but it just gave Spike the chance to wrap his arms around her, and hold her tight against him.

"Shh," he tried to comfort her.

She struggled against him, but her arms were trapped at her sides by his bear hug. After only a few attempts, she gave in and began to cry in earnest.

"Go away," she implored him.

"Not gonna happen, pet. Not when you're like this."

"Like what? PATHETIC!"

"Oh, balls. Look you misunderstood. I didn't mean you Buffy. I could never think of you as pathetic. I meant Angel."

She stopped struggling and looked up. "Really?"

He loosened his hold on her, and put his hand under her chin to force her to look him in the eye. "Absolutely."

"I don't get it. What's pathetic about Angel?"

"Your lifetime's not long enough for that list, luv. But in this case. . . Look, all the times you with you and me, did you ever know me to vamp on you? When we were kissing and stuff I mean."

"No," she didn't like the direction this was going. Did she not excite Spike as much as she had Angel?

"Right. And you know why that is?" she shook her head, "It's because only the most wet behind the ears fledgling, vamps in the middle of things like that, at least with a human. Sporting the bumpies tends to scare away dinner. Any vampire worth his salt can keep the fangs under control. It's . . . it's like some teenage boy coming in his pants when his girl friend takes her shirt off. So, am I all forgiven pet?"

"Only if you leave me alone until my hair's under control," she said teasingly.

"Hmm," he said running his hands down her back making her skin tingle. "That's a tough choice. Forgiveness or a romp in the shower. Just this once I'm opting for forgiveness, but don't think I'm going to make a habit of it."

"Wouldn't dream of it," she said in her best sultry voice. Then just to emphasize her point, as he got out of the shower she slapped him on the ass.

A/N I really had no intention of having so many damn shower scenes. The characters just need to stop having hygiene crises.
Chapter 16: Therapy

"I'm really not hungry, there's no reason for you to go out," Spike tried to reason with her.

"You're still healing, you need lots of blood. Besides, if I stay here all you'll do is work up an appetite."

"Really luv, I'm fine, look." Spike grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his lap. It hurt like hell, everyone of those tiny muscles in his palm and fingers screamed, but he was able to do it.

Buffy looked suitably impressed. Then a worried look crossed her face.

"Crap, we forgot about you're exercises. We didn't do them last night or this morning."

It wasn't how Spike wanted to spend their time. However since Buffy seemed perfectly content to remain on his lap he wasn't going to complain.

As her hands guided his through the proper motions he tried to steal gentle kisses. Whenever he managed to catch her lips she would giggle and then pretend to scold him. He would be good then, for all of a minute, and then he would begin it all again.

The whole thing was like a dream to Spike. She was so real, so vivid. She was with him. It was terrifying. He could believe that there was really hope for the two of them. He couldn't help but lap up the attention she was lavishing on him, along with her smiles, her giggles, her joy. Having a happy Buffy wriggling in his lap was all Spike could ever ask for.

"Okay, that's enough. I really have to go now." Buffy said as they finished.

"Can't go yet."

"Why not?"

He pulled his arms tighter around her, hugging her close, but also grinding her against the erection that had formed during their session.

"Feel what you do to me?" he growled in her ear, and then commenced nuzzling her.

"Oh so that's my fault?"

"Mmmmm," was all he said as he continued to focus his attention on her neck.

"Spike, stop it. I really have to go. You need blood and I didn't notice it on the room service menu. Unless. . . you want something a little fresher?"

He stopped. "What do you mean?" he asked cautiously, titling his head to look her in the eye.

"Me," she whispered.

"You want me to bite you?" he said quietly.

She nodded, but she could no longer meet his eye. Instead she looked down at the floor.

He ran his knuckles across the scars on her neck causing her to shiver. "Why?" he asked.

"It. . . It would be good for you. Slayer blood's so strong. And I wouldn't have to go out, so afterward we could. . ."

"What?"

"Make love," she offered. She was fidgety, he could tell that she didn't understand his reluctance anymore than she liked being forced to explain herself.

"I'd like that, pet. The last part anyway." She looked up at him confused. "But I'm not going to bite you."

"Why not?" she asked, jutting out her bottom lip to give him her best pout.

It almost did him in. But he retained his resolve.

"Because it's not good for you," he pressed his finger to her lips before she could object. "I would never hurt you Buffy. You know that. Sure, I know what I'm doing. I could drain you without hurting you. But that's not the point. You're starting to crave it. The way Riley did. " Her eyes flared with anger, "Let me finish. This could get you killed. You can't safely fight vampires if some part of you deep down wants them to bite you. And I could never stand to think I had some part in getting you killed."

She waited a moment to see if he was done. Then she broke his hold and stood up.

"I'm nothing like Riley was. I would never pay . . . You're wrong. You're just wrong. Now I need to get you some blood." With that she grabbed her purse and left. Slamming the door behind her.

Well that could have gone worse, Spike thought. Sure Buffy had run away, but that was par for the course. He'd come out of it without a bloody nose, and hopefully, if he gave her time to think about what he said. . . okay so that probably wouldn't make a difference.

In fact he realized, that this problem was a bit unique in that it didn't matter whether Buffy admitted to it or not. She was right, she would never consciously seek to be bitten by anyone other than him. Or Angel, a voice he'd rather not listen to prompted. But that wasn't where the danger lay. It lay in the heat of the fight, when the brain was a passenger and the body took over. When thoughts came too slowly to be of any use and instinct was all that kept you alive.

He sat there, deep in thought, trying to think up a way to help Buffy. To save her. He was so rapt up in his own head that he almost didn't notice the door open.

"Back so soon p-" he stopped. Before the figure even came through the door he smelled him. It wasn't Buffy, it was Angel.

"You came to visit. Why I didn't know you cared. Did you bring me any flowers? Or perhaps a spy camera?" Spike mocked.

Angel entered the room, closed the door behind him. He stood with his arms crossed, his legs set wide, and wearing what Spike knew, was his second best menacing look. After Angel had lost his soul in Sunnydale, Spike had secretly watched Angelus practice in front of Dru, afraid that he was out of practice after a century with a soul. Despite that, Spike found the piece of wood in Angel's right hand menacing enough all on it's own.

"That's right. I saw the whole thing. I saw you hurt her. I saw you bite her. And to think, you actually convinced some people you were a champion," Angel said.

Spike stood up. "What can I say? You got me mate. After all I'm the only person in this room to bite or hurt Buffy. Oh wait. . ." he let his sentence trail off.

"Please Spike that was different."

"Which? The biting her? Or the hurting her?"

"I'm not here to argue semantics with you Spike."

"No, cause you might actually have to think then."

"Please Spike, YOU'RE accusing me of not thinking. Now who's calling the kettle black?"

"I'm not the one who's cunning plan relied on Harmony."

"Which reminds me, you owe me a new secretary."

"You HATED Harmony. Go talk to the bloody steno-pool."

"As far as last words go Spike, I don't think those are going to make the top 10 list." With that Angel leapt across the room, stake raised.

"Bugger," Spike swore as he dived out of the way. He'd hoped he could keep Angel talking for longer. He knew this time around he was outmatched. He couldn't even open the door to leave. He'd have to bash through it if he wanted to get out. And there was no way he could turn his back on Angel.

If Angel was determined to kill him, his only hope was to either draw the fight out until Buffy got back (assuming Angel hadn't set up something to delay her) or to send Angel through the balcony door into the sunlight, without ending up outside himself. And considering he couldn't use his hands, that wasn't going to be easy.
A/N This next chapter is a little grizzly and graphic.

Buffy quickly slid the card in and out of the slot on the front of the door handle. She waited, but the light didn't go green. Damn, she hated these things. She could never remember whether she was supposed to pull the card out right away or leave it in, and they weren't consistent. In some hotels it was in and out, in others you had to wait for the light. This was obviously one of the latter ones. It was all part of some evil scheme, she was sure.

Sighing, she slid the card back in, waited for a moment until the light turned green, then pulled it back out. Quickly she grabbed the handle. She was always sure these doors would re-lock themselves before she opened them. It had never happened, but she was sure it would. Not to mention she had to do this all one handed because she was carrying a grocery bag full of pig's blood.

As soon as the door opened the smell of burnt flesh hit her. She flung the door open to be greeted by bright sunlight streaming through the room and no Spike. She ran across the room to fling the curtains shut. It was only after the curtains had closed over the glass door that led out onto a small balcony, that she realized that there was no door. Or at least the glass was gone.

Maybe he wasn't here, she thought. Or maybe he left. But the sight she saw as she looked outside said otherwise. There on the balcony amidst the shattered glass was a pile of dust.

Buffy fell to her knees. No, no, no, no, no, NO. This could not be happening. She hadn't been gone that long. He just couldn't be gone. Not now. He'd promised. She was going to be his girl. Always he'd said. He couldn't do this, not again.

Then a breeze picked up and the dust started to blow away. "NO!" she screamed, "You can't have him!" She tried to clutch at the dust, grabbing handfuls of both it and the shattered safety glass. But that only caused more of it to blow away. The glass cut her hands and she began to bleed, her blood and the dust that had been her lover mixed.

Tears streamed down her face, she wanted to make a sound. Yell at the world for taking him away from her again, but she was choking on her own breath. She felt as though there were a gaping hole in her chest that was sucking her in. An emptiness, a black hole from which nothing could escape.

Finally she turned to go back into the room. She wanted his duster. They had brought it last night, but he hadn't been wearing it when she left, so it should still be around somewhere. She wanted to curl up in it. To breathe his scent, as if that could make it all untrue.

She looked back into the room, trying to see where she had put it, but she was blind from looking out into the sunlight. All too slowly her eyes adjusted, shadows resolved into shapes. Then, there in the doorway of the bathroom she noticed the sole of a black boot sticking out.

She tried to get up, to run over there. But her hands were slick with blood and dust and they slipped out from under her as she tried to push herself to her feet. She fell and felt the rough carpet burn her forearms. With her face now level to the ground and her vision adjusted she saw that there was a trail of blood and ash that led to the bathroom.

She scrambled on her hands and knees clumsily across the floor. She realized the closer she got to the bathroom the stronger the smell of burnt flesh became until, this far from the shattered door and fresh air, it was almost overwhelming.

In the bathroom she was greeted to a gruesome sight. Platinum hair glowed in the dim light. It was the only color on the still form that lay there. That was because from head to toe he was black. Every bit of exposed skin was as black as his t-shirt. His face, his neck, his hands, they were all black. In places the skin had bubbled, like a marshmallow left in the fire for too long. Only his forearms were different. They were dark glistening red. She realized that he must have pulled himself in here using only his arms. The ash she had seen on the carpet was the skin that had rubbed off as he pulled himself along.

He had obviously tried to lie on his right side, but he'd only been able to twist himself half way. The reason was all to obvious. Out of his left shoulder jutted a wooden stake, just above where his heart was.

Buffy never knew she could feel so sick and happy all at once. He was hurt, and horribly. But he wasn't dust. She knew that if he hadn't dusted by now, no matter how severe his injuries were, he'd survive.

She managed to get to her feet, but before she could go get him the blood she'd bought, she had something far more urgent to do. She had to throw up.

At first she was glad that she hadn't stopped to get lunch. There shouldn't have been much in her to throw up since she hadn't eaten since dinner last night. But that only meant that her dry heaving lasted longer.

Guilt washed over her. How long had she spent staring uselessly into space? All that useless crying had been time she could have spent helping him. Now she was wasting more time, uselessly bent over the toilet.

Finally it stopped. Even so, as she got up she was careful not to look at his upper body. Just focus on his jeans, she told herself. They were always black.

As she exited the bathroom, she flicked the switches until she found the fan. Hopefully that would get rid of the smell.

She ran to get the pig's blood. She was glad she'd gotten twelve whole jars. The man at the butchers had looked at her strangely, but she had wanted to be sure to have enough to last a while so she wouldn't have to go on another blood run any time soon.

She unscrewed the cap on the first jar but a new problem now presented itself. His head lay on his right arm, tilted to the side. She would have to move him to be able to pour the blood down his throat.

She carefully placed her hands on the sides of his head and turned it. She did it quickly, knowing that she could not help but hurt him, wanting to make it as brief as possible.

His eyes and mouth flew open. She could see his scream, even if she couldn't hear it. She could also see the why. Blood had caused the skin of his cheek to stick to his arm leaving a pink oozing wound on his face, and a black shell on his arm, like a broken mask.

"It's me. Buffy," she said, "I'm so sorry. It's going to be okay. It's all going to be okay, I promise. I'm not going anywhere. I promise." She didn't know if he could hear her, if her words could possibly be any comfort to him, but they comforted her. The silence had become oppressive, unnatural. Her words filled it in. So she kept them up. Rattling off a long series of comforting phrases.

She began to pour the blood down his throat. She would make him better.

Twelve jars of blood later he was conscious, Buffy wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

"Buffy?" he croaked.

"Shhhh, I'm here. I'm so sorry. I'm not going anywhere. I . . . I don't know what to do Spike. What. . . what do you need?"

"Sorry."

"No, shh, this isn't your fault. Angel sent someone didn't he? A vampire, I saw the dust outside. But-."

"No," his voice was a whisper.

"No what?"

"Angel. . . dust."

It took her a moment, then Buffy understood. Angel hadn't sent someone. He'd come himself.

It was hard to believe at first. She didn't want to believe he'd changed so much. Or maybe he hadn't changed at all, a voice in the back of her head whispered.

She could see his plan in her head. See Angel watching her. See him waiting for her to leave. Then he'd come in, quickly stake Spike, and clean up the dust. Maybe taking some of Spike's stuff so that it looked like Spike had just chosen to leave. Leaving her to think that another man had run out on her.

Still it was hard to believe that he would do all this behind her back. She knew he hated Spike, and knew that he hated the idea of her and Spike even more, but this?

Then it all clicked into place. He was doing what he'd always done. He was treating her like a child who needed to be protected. He was making the decisions for her just like he always had. He still didn't believe she was capable of deciding who should be a part of her life, or what sort of life she wanted.

She waited for the grief to hit her. For the tears to come. Angel was dead. He was never coming back. She would never see him again. But there were no tears, no grief. Maybe she was just numb, maybe it was just one shock too many, but all she felt was relief that she had one less thing to worry about.

Looking at Spike she knew she had plenty to worry about as it was.
Chapter 18: Recovery

Moonlight streamed in through the cabin's tiny window and roamed over her breasts as she bobbed up and down on top of him. It lit her golden hair like a halo, framing her face which was thrown back in ecstasy. Her eyes were closed, and that was okay, he didn't want the sight of him to interfere with her enjoyment. He hoped that in her mind she saw him healthy and whole.

Her hot hungry pussy seemed to devour his dick. Her tight muscles clung to him, greedily sucked him in. Her rhythm increased, and he was desperate to thrust into her as hard as she was riding him. But if he moved too much he knew he wouldn't be able to hide the pain from her, and then she would stop and he would have no way of getting her off.

That was what drove him the most crazy. It was almost a week ago that he had woken up with his dick in her hot little mouth being sucked for all he was worth. It had been heaven. But after she was done, he couldn't return the favor. He couldn't do anything for her. As much as he loved her soft skin, the feel of her thighs against his burnt cheeks was too painful, and she was constantly fearful of doing anything that caused him pain.

That first blow job, and all the rest that followed it, hadn't been about sex, it had been about guilt. Buffy blamed herself for everything that had happened. For not taking good enough care of him. For leaving him alone. Now she refused to leave. He had to yell at her to go to the galley to get food to eat. It had been almost endearing the first few days, but now it was ridiculous. They were in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, if anyone among the crew had been going to hurt him, they would have done it by now.

"Oh, God Spike," she called. Her eyes were open now, and if the sight of him bothered her, she didn't show it. But then maybe she was used to it. She'd had nothing to look at but him for weeks now. Still, every time one of his blistered hands passed into his field of vision Spike shuddered. If his face looked anything like that. . .

Her climax hit and her inner muscles squeezed him tightly. He exploding into her, proud of himself for still being able to bring her off, even if she had done most of the work. It was worth all the pain as the back of his neck and arms dragged painfully on the sheets.

"Oh god, I DID hurt you," Buffy suddenly said. "I should never. . ."

Damn, he'd upset her. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all. He hated being an invalid. It was his nature to take care of others, and he so wanted to take care of her.

"It's okay pet, it was worth it really," there was no point in trying to hide the pain. Two weeks spent together in that small cabin had made them incredibly sensitive to each other.

She rested her cheek on his stomach. Luckily the flames hadn't had a chance to spread before he'd rolled out of the sunlight and smothered them. So most of his chest, and everything lower down had been spared.

One of her hand strayed lower down and began to stroke his balls.

"Buffy," he sighed. In the last week her hands and her mouth had become amazingly skillful. Not that they'd been clumsy before. But every time he had had the barest hint of an erection, her hands, her mouth, or both and affixed themselves to his dick. His orgasm had become their mutual drug, their painkiller. For Buffy it eased her guilt. For him it dulled his physical pain. Allowed him to think about something other than his condition. For a little while.

Much to his surprise, her hand stopped, and she looked up at him. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure pet."

"Tell me about mating."

It was pretty much the last thing that he'd expected to hear. "That's not really a question."

"Okay. What does mating do? I know it's kind of like marriage, but, it does stuff to you right?"

He sighed. He could tell he wasn't getting out of this, "Yeah, it's kind of like being married, but it's forever, only death of the permanent variety can end it. It forms a bond. The couple, they can always tell where each other are, sense each others feelings, emotions. I've even heard that in some cases they share dreams. But I don't really know. It's pretty rare. I've only ever seen a few mated vampires."

"But, it's a monogamous thing right?"

"Oh, yeah. I don't think it's possible to for a mated vampire to cheat. You scared that I'm going to hook up with someone else?"

"Actually I wasn't so much thinking about the sex, but you know other stuff. I mean if, hypothetically speaking of course, we were mated, I would never allow another vampire to bite me right?"

There was no way he could hide his excitement at the idea. If it wasn't apparent in his face, his dick, which had slowly been coming to life, now sprang to full attention. Still whatever that part of him thought, his head and his heart were not so sure.

"I don't know pet. Maybe. It happens, vampires mating with humans, but it's always a prelude to turning them. But yeah, mating, it leaves a mark, one that vampires can feel. They would be reluctant to bite you. I suppose they'd just try to kill you in other ways. But I don't know. I've never heard of anything like what you're suggesting."

"Look Spike. About what you said back in L.A., I think you're wrong. Yeah, I want you to bite me. But I'd never ever let another vamp bite me. And yeah I get off on it. I admit it okay. Biting, one of Buffy's turn-ons. Which means if we were mated, I'd definitely never let any one else bite me. I mean, it would be like having them go down on me. You know?" she had decided to reinforce her argument by the unfair means of curling her fingers around his dick.

He closed his eyes and thought about it. He had to admit, that she might be right. But he was so scared that this own greedy desire for her was interfering with his judgment. He couldn't help but remember the taste of her blood, how strong and hard it made him feel. He imagined what the sex would be like, the way she'd cum when his fangs sank into her neck, how he'd finally be able to keep up with her. What it would be like to have her lying underneath him, completely exhausted, fully sated. He'd always suspected that she could have always gone a little farther, that despite his best efforts he'd never left her completely satisfied. Not that he thought anyone else had ever done any better.

Still, was this really what was best for Buffy. It seemed too easy a solution to their problems. And what if she came to resent him? Could she really commit to him for the rest of her life? Not to mention the one thing they had not talked about since leaving L.A.

"What about Angel?" his voice was quiet.

"He's dead. And even if he wasn't. . . I think maybe you were right, maybe I didn't know him at all. I keep waiting. Waiting to cry. I do miss him. I think about never seeing him again and I'm sad. But I don't cry. I didn't even cry when he came through Sunnydale that last time. He always used to make me cry. Every time we saw each other after we broke up, I would secretly cry for days. I think I just finally ran out of tears for Angel.

"Besides. I love you Spike. I know I haven't been big with the saying of it. But I do. When I thought I'd lost you again. When I thought that dust was you. I've never hurt that much. Not even when I sent Angel to hell.

"This isn't just about sex. It's not about how you can do things to my body that no one else can, though hey, you get a big check in the plus column for that. It's about all the other things you can do that no one else can. You can tell when I'm lying, even when I don't know. You don't let me get away with anything. You make me feel like it's okay to be me. You never make me feel bad about being strong, and you never get angry with me for being weak. You've been there for me when no one else was. I love you Spike, and yeah, I'm willing to spend the rest of my life with you. So the question is really, do you want me?"

"Don't be daft, we both know that's not in question. I love you with everything I am. But, Buffy," he said, trying to maintain some semblance of reason when every part of his being just wanted to say yes, and damn the consequences, "We can't be mated. At least not now. If we were, you'd feel what I'm feeling, you'd share in my pain."

"Silly vampire," she said, kissing him just below the navel. "Do you think I don't share in your pain now? Besides, my blood would heal you much faster. You'd probably be all patched up in a couple days."

It shamed him to admit it. But that was a huge selling point. Not that he didn't want the mating for everything else it entailed. But to have Buffy's blood, to be whole again after so long. And all he would have to do was share his agony with her for a couple days.

"I don't want to hurt you, even for a short time."

"If we wait, you probably won't be healed when we get to Hong Kong next week. And then I'll be stuck on this ship with you, complaining about all the shopping opportunities I'm missing." She smiled, "I can take the pain. I want to share your pain. I'm not taking this lightly Spike. I've been thinking about it for a while now. I want to share everything with you, good and bad. You know, the whole in sickness and in health deal?"

"I don't know if we can pet. I have to actually be biting you while we have sex, which isn't that easy for me right now."

"Hey, I told you I'd been thinking about it." She got up off the bed and went over to her suitcase. She pulled out a hair tie and carefully twisted all of her hair into a bun on one side of her head. They had learned early on that her soft hair felt like barbed wire when it passed over his exposed nerves. "Sit on your heels," she told him.

He did as she said. Then she got back on the bed and straddled him, careful not to come into contact with any of his injured skin. She held him by the waist and lowered herself on to him. He gasped in pleasure as he was once gain plunged into her warm depths. The desire to grab her hips was overwhelming but he knew that would only cause him pain. Instead he focused on her exposed neck.

To his surprise shifting to his vampiric visage didn't hurt. Or maybe he was just too distracted.

She hadn't moved on him, she was waiting for the bite, so that she wouldn't accidentally bump him. However, it was obviously difficult, he could feel her trembling pussy twitch about him.

His fangs sank deep into her neck. The first hint of her hot blood teased his tongue. Buffy screamed, half in pleasure, half in pain. Her own fingers dug deep into his flanks, her nails drew blood.

She began moving against him slowly. It surprised him, her lust for his bite had been so great that he expected her to ride him hard. Instead she slid slowly up and down his length as if her pussy was trying to press every inch of him into some fleshy memory.

Her first orgasm came when he pulled his fangs out of her throat and let the blood flow freely. She screamed again, and her body constricted around him. Now the full force of her blood was in him. It blocked out everything that was not Buffy including the pain in his arms. His injuries forgotten he grabbed her hips so that he could better thrust into her as he rode out her orgasm.

A moment after the crest of her orgasm had passed he began to suck gently at the wound, careful to only take a tiny amount with each suck. With every pull of his mouth Buffy cried out and her inner muscles contracted. She began to match the rhythm of their love making to rhythm of his sucking.

Soon the saccade of her breathing told him that her second orgasm was approaching. He sliced his tongue on his fangs. As she came again he licked her wound, mixing their blood.

This time her orgasm carried him with her. His mouth fell away from her neck and they cried out in unison, "MINE!" as she milked every inch of his cock.

As the world came back into focus for both of them, they each found themselves drawn to each others eyes. Buffy released the hold she had on his ass, and brought her fingers up to his face. His blood coated her nails. Without breaking eye contact he sucked each finger in turn.

Finally, exhausted she slid off of him, and they lay down together her head resting lightly on his chest. Soon she was asleep.

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

He slept for several hours. He awoke to find Buffy now lay with her back to him but every inch of that gorgeous back was pressed against him. He reached out to brush away her hair, then stopped as his hand came into view.

The blisters were all gone. The skin on his arm was still tender and it was pinker than was normal for a vampire, but those were minor inconveniences after the past few weeks. He wiggled his fingers and found that most of the pain there was gone as well, they were still stiff, and he guessed that nothing but time would restore his full dexterity, but time he had.

The more he thought about it, the less surprised he was. He was only just beginning to appreciate how strong Buffy's blood really was. He never should have survived that fight with Angel. Realistically he probably shouldn't have even been able to defeat Angel when they had fought in Death Valley over a that stupid cup of Mountain Dew. But he'd always been tougher than a vampire his age had any right to be.

No, that wasn't true. He hadn't always been that tough. No, it had started that night in China over a hundred years ago. The night he'd drained that poor young Slayer. Her blood had changed him. He'd always known it to some degree. The strength that came with Slayer blood was impossible to miss, but that wore off. After that night he'd never lost a fight until he'd come up against Buffy Summers. And he and Dru had pissed off some powerful vampires in their time. He thought about those battles now. Every time he'd been outclassed he'd won by outlasting his opponent. By being able to take every blow they could dish out and shrug them off.

He should never have survived that battle with Angel, they should have burnt up together when they crashed through the balcony door into the harsh sunlight. But the flames had spread over his body slower. Still strong with Buffy's blood he had stumbled, rolled, and then crawled out of the sunlight and into the cool darkness of the bathroom.

And it had all started that night in China when he'd first tasted Slayer's blood, when he'd first started to change, but into what?

Buffy stirred in her sleep, and he knew that his thoughts were somehow troubling her dreams. He smiled and curled his body around hers, breathing in the scent of her. Whatever doubts he'd had about her feelings, they were all gone now. The new bond between them didn't allow them. Her love filled him and warmed him from the inside as he hoped his love warmed her.

He brushed back her hair, and admired the wound he had left on her neck. It was a vicious looking wound surrounded by a brilliant purple bruise that covered that whole side of her neck. Then he noticed to his absolute delight, that the other scars had vanished from her neck. All the marks others had left on her were gone. She was completely his.

The End

Return to Bloodshedverse Home
 Use scroll bars to see reviews