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All standard Disclaimers apply

 

CHAPTER 1

 

“As these words of peace are spoken, let this harmful spell be broken!”

 

William opened his eyes to find himself in a lip-lock with one petite, green-eyed vampiress. One hand was buried in the lush fall of her golden hair; the other was under her top, cupping a small, perfect peach of a breast.

 

Buffy looked down her body to where the newly bleached-blond Slayer’s narrow hips were nestled between her legs, the sizeable bulk of his erection prodding insistently against her. Her green eyes widened in horror as she looked up into the Slayer’s equally horrified ocean-blue eyes. Both froze for a heart stopping second as the memories of the past day assaulted them. Touching. Kissing. Planning their wedding…

 

Wedding?

 

“Wuagh! Bloody hell!” William leapt to his feet, making a big show of wiping his hands across his mouth and making gagging noises.

 

Buffy jumped up as well, spitting and sputtering. “Slayer lips! Lips of Slayer!” She spat some more and scrubbed at her tongue with her fingers. “BLECHH!”

 

Willow flew to William’s side and threw her arms around his neck, casting a look of hatred at Buffy. “Oh my God, William! What happened to your hair?”

 

“What do you mean, what’s wrong with my…” His hands flew up to his head, fingers seeking the honey-colored mop of curls he’d been cursed with. Instead, he found it much shorter and slicked back with gel to tame the curl. He glared at Buffy. “YOU CUT MY HAIR?” he screamed.

 

“She bleached it, too!” Willow chirped. Anything that pissed William off at the little blond vampire was all for the good in her book. “It’s completely white,” she informed him helpfully.

 

“YOU BLEACHED IT?”

 

Buffy covered her sensitive ears. “Don’t you even try to pin the blame on me for this!” she cried. “We were engaged and there was no way anyone would believe I would marry you with your hair looking the way it did. You look a hundred times better like this, anyway. Besides…” She jabbed a finger at her chest. “Innocent victim of Teen Witch’s stupid spell, here! Chained to a wall and minding my own business? Ringing any bells here, Slayer?” she finished, glaring at Willow.

 

“Willow, how could you?” Xander chided. He watched as Buffy paced the floor, keeping a safe distance from the Slayer. Occasionally her eyes would flick up to his platinum hair and her eyes would go all wide and starey for a second. Poor thing. Now she had to live with the memory of William’s mouth all over hers instead of the Xand-mans. He’d have to remedy that as soon as possible, he thought with a leer.

 

William pulled Willow’s choking arms from his neck and put some distance between them. “Wills, I can’t believe you’d do something like this. I know you’ve been miserable since Oz left, but still…”

 

“I know. I feel so awful!” She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. A quick peep assured her that both men were rushing over to give her some much needed comfort. Once she was enveloped in a smothering dual hug, she shot the vampire a smug little smile of triumph.

 

Buffy rolled her eyes and flashed her some fang. What a drama queen. Anyone could see that those tears were totally faked. Well, anyone but THOSE two dorkwads. MEN!

 

“You do realize that she’s getting entirely out of hand with this magic bullshit, Slayer?” Buffy looked down in disgust. There was a scuff on the toe of one of her prized Jimmy Choo suede boots. Lifting first one leg and then the other, she tugged the outrageously expensive footwear off to inspect the damage. “Normally I’d be all paralyzed with not caring, but this time I got dragged into it.”

 

Willow turned her nose up. “Like you know what you’re talking about,” she scoffed, snuggling between her two favorite guys. “I know exactly what I’m doing.” She flushed under their disbelieving stares. “Most of the time?” she finished with a weak smile.

 

“Excuse me, ‘Sabrina’,” Buffy snapped caustically. “I’ve been around a lot longer than you three boneheads. The thing about magic? There’s always consequences. ALWAYS. If there were even half a brain between the three of you idiots, you’d realize that.”

 

“Hey! I resemble that remark!” Xander said. Damn she was hot, even if she was an evil, undead creature of the night. He stared at her bare toes. “Care for a little foot rub, Buff?”

 

Buffy withered him with a glance. “Don’t even think about it, Krispy Kreme.” Her eyes narrowed as she realized that for once the Slayer wasn’t paying any attention to her. He was too busy muttering and running his hands over his cropped and processed hair to notice her. Not one to let a golden opportunity pass by; she tucked her boots under her arm and began to sidle towards the door of the crypt. She was desperate to get away from the Slayer and his merry band of morons. One more day in his basement with the smell of his laundry all around her and she was likely to fly right off the edge of reason.

 

He was still distracted. Good. Just a little bit more…

 

With a burst of vampiric speed, she was out the door and tearing through the tombstones. She heard shouting and the pounding of feet behind her, but she wasn’t worried. The only one that could even come close to matching her speed was the Slayer, and she counted on his little red-haired damsel in distress to slow him down.

 

Once she was certain that she wasn’t being followed, she slowed her pace, eyes darting around as she searched the shadows for any sign of the khaki-clad commandos that now haunted the darkest corners of her nightmares. As if implanting her with a behavioral modification chip wasn’t bad enough, she’d had to endure the unspeakable things they had done to her while she had been completely powerless against them…

 

Buffy shuddered, one small hand lifting to rub her head were the crippling pain was always centered. She had been as close to dusting from lack of blood as a vampire could get when she finally got away from the lab. In desperation she had attempted to bite Xander, the Slayer’s goofy-assed roommate. All she got out of it was a FUCK of a migraine and said goofy-assed roommate following her around in a happy haze of puppy-lust.

 

Most of her time since escaping that hell-hole had been spent chained to a wall in the Slayer’s basement, sipping that wretched pigs blood through a straw. The wise-ass had even put a pink paper umbrella in her glass one day, handing it over with a smirk. Stupid, wimpy-looking, smart-ass of a Slayer. Dorky, poetry-spouting Slayer and his wicked pretty eyes.

 

Whoa.

 

Where the hell had the last part of that rant come from? Sure, she’d always been attracted to the Slayer, but there were some lines a self-respecting vamp didn’t cross; especially if she didn’t want to meet the business end of a stake. Tossing her head, Buffy decided to blame it on Teen Witch’s botched spell. She licked her lips and frowned. She still had Slayer taste in her mouth.

 

Mmm.

 

Mmm? No! Not ‘Mmm’. Blech! That was the word— ‘Blech’!

 

Her pink tongue swept over her lips once more, her footsteps slowing as she allowed her thoughts to wander to a certain newly bleached-blonde pain in her ass. When she had first rolled into town, she had set out to discover as much as possible about her nemesis. After all, she had a reputation as a slayer of Slayers to uphold. He came off as extremely shy and introverted-- not exactly admirable qualities in a Vampire Slayer. She quickly found out differently.

 

What she had anticipated as an easy kill had turned out to be anything but. After William had disposed of her diversionary tactic with pathetic ease, she had stepped from her hiding place in the shadows. Her eyes had swept from the top of his floppy curls to the soles of his sneakers, lingering appreciatively in between.

 

“You’re not at all what you seem, are you sugar?” she had drawled. The sight of the dark-haired boy and the redhead huddling behind him had brought a derisive smile to her lips. “A Slayer with family and friends. That sure as hell wasn’t in the brochure.”

 

“Who’re you?”

 

“You’ll find out on Saturday,” Buffy had told him, exuding an air of boredom as she inspected her manicure for nonexistent chips.

 

“What happens on Saturday?” William had demanded.

 

She had forced herself to laugh, blowing him a little kiss as she’d backed away. “I kill you.”

 

Of course she hadn’t had the patience to wait until St. Vagisil or whatever the Annoyingly Anointed One had been clamoring about. Parent-Teacher Night. Yet another in a long line of memorable ass-kickings from the Slayer.

 

To say that she had underestimated William was an understatement of monumental proportions. Her only comfort was the fact that she wasn’t the only one to do so. Since the chip and subsequent interaction with the group, she had discovered some disturbing facts. Those so-called friends of his—the scoobies, and how stupid was THAT name?—treated him like a bad joke. Xander could be especially cruel. Even the Watcher seemed to find him inadequate, often berating him for daydreaming instead of researching some obscure demon folklore.  

 

Buffy shook her head with a grin. It seemed that no one but the chipped vampiress with a yen for killing his kind could see beneath the many murky layers that made up this particular Slayer. And far be it from her to give them a head’s up. Let him surprise them as he had surprised her.

 

Determinedly shrugging off her wayward thoughts, she finally reached her old lair and stomped inside, her conflicting thoughts about the Slayer making her a tad bit cranky.

 

“Parker, you here?” she called. Finding no sign of him in the living area, she made her way to the bedroom. “Parrrrrkerrrr?” Her only answer was silence. Stupid, idiot vampire. Whoever had turned him should be boiled in Holy Water at high noon on the first day of summer.

 

The place was a mess. Her precious clothes and all of her make-up were flung all over the filthy floor, and the entire lower level smelled like Parker had brought home a snack and left it to rot in a corner somewhere. Buffy’s nose wrinkled in disgust. Gross! No way was she staying here. This would probably be the first place the Slayer would check, anyway. She grabbed up a duffle bag and started stuffing in her clothes and trinkets. She knew the perfect place to hide out. Grabbing all she could carry with her for now, she set off at a jog towards Crawford Street.

 

 

CHAPTER 2

 

The sun was just breaking over the horizon when she leapt up on the porch. So intent was she on getting inside, she didn’t see or ‘feel’ the shadow behind her. She kicked open the door and staggered inside, dropping her heavy bundles haphazardly at her feet.

 

“Whoa! Way too close, Buff,” she chided herself aloud. She was bending over to pick up her prized stuffed pig when a body slammed into her from behind. Strong legs straddled her hips while hard, punishing hands pinned her arms behind her back.

 

“OW!” Buffy cried, spitting out a big mouthful of her long hair. “Wait. Not ‘ow’…You feeling okay, Slayer? This stuff usually hurts.”

 

William gave her a shove as he climbed off of her. “Get up, Summers. I’m takin’ you back to the basement.”

 

“Um…How ‘bout ‘no’?” She scrambled as far away from him as she could get, tossing her tangled hair back and brushing dust off her knees. “Or wait, let’s try ‘fuck no’. Make’s a much bigger statement.”

 

“What a little mouth you’ve got on you, pet. So ladylike,” he said, folding his arms across his chest and staring her down.

 

Buffy braced her hands on her hips. “You didn’t seem to mind my mouth earlier, Slayer,” she taunted. “Matter of fact, you couldn’t get enough of it.”

 

His fair skin flushed red. “That was the spell talking. Trust me, without a spell, I’d just as soon stake you as kiss you,” he sneered.

 

She ignored the twinge of pain his words twisted in her gut and lashed out at him. “Yeah? Well, without a spell, I’d save you the trouble and stake MYSELF before I let your lips near mine again!”

 

They glared at each other, circling warily. Buffy finally held up her hands. “Okay, this is stupid. Incredibly stupid, and childish to the extreme. Look, I’m waving the white flag, here. I appreciate all the help you’ve given me since…since…”

 

“Since you became the one and only neutered vampire girl?” he finished helpfully.

 

Buffy turned her head quickly, pretending to study the dust-covered furniture so he couldn’t see the hurt in her eyes. That was twice in less than five minutes with the feel-bads from his sarcastic barbs. What was the deal? Usually she gave as good as she got with him. Better in fact. She drew in a cleansing breath and whipped her emotions under control once more.

 

“Right. The thing is this; as two star,” she made little quotation marks with her fingers as she spoke those words. “As the accommodations have been, I need to have my own place. Your so-called friends are really getting on my nerves, not to mention your whiney, fat-assed girlfriend, Hillary.”

 

“Harmony.”

 

“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes. “Look, I need to figure out a way to survive with this stupid piece of scrap metal in my head. I can’t bite, can’t feed, and can’t fight, so there’s no reason for you to be worried that I’m going to go all damage bound on the God-fearing citizens of Sunnyhell. I just need to…adapt, somehow. I can’t do that chained to the walls at Casa de Slayer and being spoon-fed glasses of pigs blood with little paper umbrellas.”

 

William stared at her, pursing his lips thoughtfully. Can’t bite, can’t feed, and can’t fight. For the first time he thought he might understand the magnitude of what had been done to her. How would he react if everything he had ever known had been stripped from him? That one time when he turned eighteen was bad enough. What if it had been a permanent situation? As William, he was a hopeless case, but as the Slayer he had power. He was a formidable force. Demons cowered in fear of him. How would he react if all of that were taken away?

 

“I s’pose this is as good a place as any for you to hole up.” He glanced around. He hadn’t been back here himself since Faith had left town on Graduation Night. Strange. Her memory didn’t hurt nearly as bad as it should.

 

”Don’t think I’m stupid though, Summers,” he continued, pinning her with a glare that was all business. “Just because you can’t bite or kill someone yourself, doesn’t mean you couldn’t entice or pay someone to do it for you. Until we figure out this Initiative mess, I want your promise that you won’t try aiming any smoking guns our way.” He leaned back against the door and crossed his arms. “One step out of line and I’ll dust you quicker than you maxed out Xander’s Visa.”

 

“Hey!” Buffy yelped. “That was totally his fault. He shouldn’t have said that I dressed like I shopped at Goodwill. And besides, anyone stupid enough to leave their credit cards lying around like that is just asking for it.”

 

“Buffy, you stole his wallet right out of his pocket…”

 

“I SO did not! Like I would put my hands anywhere near his sweaty, puffy person.” She shuddered.

 

“FINE!” William spat through gritted teeth. “Back to the topic at hand. I also need to know exactly what went on while you were in there. I know there’s a lot you aren’t tellin’ me, but you need to stop holdin’ out. This is for your benefit too, so no more ‘memory lapses’, okay?”

 

He didn’t think it was possible for her to become any paler, but she did. The mere mention of the government interlopers had her face blanching and her eyes darting around looking at everything but him. She was so visibly upset that he doubted she was even aware that her demon was flickering in and out. “Yeah, sure. Okay, Slayer. I promise.”

 

William frowned, moving a cautious step closer to her. “You alright, Summers?”

 

“I’m fine! Never been better,” she smiled brightly. “Why do you ask?”

 

“’Cause you’ve got your bumpies on, luv.”

 

Buffy’s hands flew up to her face. “Oh! Um…sorry? It happens sometimes when I…it’s like a nervous reaction,” she finished, lamely. She forcibly pushed the demon back down.

 

Shrugging, William lit a cigarette and gazed at her through the smoke. “Doesn’t bother me, though I have to say yours are a damn sight prettier than most.” It was true. The first night he had seen her game face had been the night of the parent-teacher fiasco. He had come up behind her after the Anointed One’s minions had raced off in pursuit of Faith and Xander. Scenting him, she had turned to face him.

 

He had been startled to see that instead of the usual yellow-amber, her eyes were a brilliant shade of peridot green. Her bumpies were minimal, hardly distorting her human face at all, and her fangs were much smaller than the average vamps. She was astonishingly beautiful, he had thought as she had moved towards him with feline grace.

 

“Do we really need weapons for this?” he had drawled.

 

“I just like them,” Buffy had replied, running her hand caressingly down her neck and over her breast as she arched her back. “And they make YOU look all manly.”

 

William smiled at the memory. He looked up to find Buffy looking at him with her mouth agape.

 

“You think my bumpies are ‘pretty’?” she asked clearly amazed.

 

“You don’t?”

 

She laughed outright at the foolishness of his question. “Hello? Vampire, here. Not big with the whole reflection thing.”

 

He laughed self-consciously, reaching up to push his hair out of his eyes. Hair that was no longer there thanks to Buffy. The look of chagrin on his face when he realized what he had done was priceless. His eyebrows drew together in a fierce frown.

 

Buffy gave him a sheepish smile. “Uh, I really am sorry about the hair, Slayer. I’d blame the witch for it, but I’ve wanted to get my hands on you since the first time I saw you,” she confided. Her eyes widened comically when she realized her verbal slip. “On your HAIR I meant to say.” Dammit, Buffy! She chided herself. Will you never learn?

 

“What are you, a beautician?”

 

“No, but I ate one once.” She laughed at his expression. “Kidding, Slayer. Ha, ha? Just kidding.”

 

“You BLEACHED it, Summers!” He groused, running his hands over it once more. “I can just imagine what my dad is going to say, not to mention my girlfriend.”

 

She waved her hand airily. “Oh, don’t be silly, Billy. Helga will love it. It’s very stylish as far as the cut goes. The bleach was just my own personal touch.”

 

William gritted his teeth. “Her NAME is HARMONY,” he ground out. “And don’t call me ‘Billy’, or I’ll start calling you ‘Chip’.”

 

“Whatever. Have you even looked at it?”

 

He rolled his eyes. “No,” he said with forced patience. “I’ve been busy chasing down a rotten little pain in the ass vampire who is more trouble than she’s worth.”

 

Ignoring his insult, she glanced around until she located a draped mirror above the sitting room fireplace. Without giving it a second thought, she ran forward and grabbed William’s hand, dragging him over to it. Positioning him in front of the glass, she whisked off the drape. “Ta-daaaa! Meet the new and improved ‘William, the Vampire Slayer’,” she giggled.

 

William was shocked at the difference in his appearance. Last Christmas his father had gifted him with a prescription for contacts. He had felt that he looked a lot different without his wire-rimmed glasses, but this…this was…amazing.

 

Without the heavy curls falling over his forehead, his face was completely exposed. The new, shorter style was extremely flattering, drawing attention to his sharp cheekbones and the stubborn line of his chin. William smiled. He looked damned good! Harmony was going to be thrilled with his new look.

 

Buffy spoke from directly behind him. “See? It really brings out your beautiful bone structure. You could be a Gap model with these cheekbones, I swear. And look! No more shaggy curtain of curls means you can see those pretty baby blues,” she teased, pinching his cheek.

 

Her enthusiasm was infectious and William found himself trying to meet her eyes in the mirror. His smile faded as he looked at his solitary reflection. “Does it bother you? Not being able to see yourself?”

 

It did, but she didn’t tell him that. “Nah, not really. Faith used to help me with my hair and stuff, but I eventually got to where I didn’t need to ask. What’s with all the personal questions, Slayer?”

 

He shrugged as a faint flush crept up his neck. “Nothing! What, I can’t ask a few questions?” he asked defensively.

 

Buffy decided she didn’t care to answer that. Instead, she changed the subject abruptly, grinning up at him mischievously. “Wanna see something funny?” she asked.

 

Her enthusiasm was infectious; the sparkle in her green eyes captivating. He had always been fascinated with her; that he didn’t try to deny. William justified his interest by claiming an entirely scientific approach. Buffy was a paradox, totally unlike others of her species. It served his best interests as the Slayer to find out as much as he could about her. Or so he told himself.

 

“Sure.”

 

Moving back behind him again, Buffy clamored up on a footstool and began poking her fingers behind his ears, making them look like they were wiggling all on their own in the mirror’s reflection. Encouraged by his snort of laughter, she then started tweaking his nose. Her “don’t you dare blow snot on my hand, Slayer!” made him laugh that much harder.

 

She was laughing just as hard as he was when she realized how much of her body was draped over his; how their cheeks were pressed together as she hung over his shoulder. She smiled nervously, her eyes flicking to his lips and back up to meet his gaze. A girl could get lost in those ocean-blue eyes, she thought, mesmerized by the many varied shades of blue she found there.

 

William swallowed hard. Her slight weight rested against his back and the twin points of her nipples rubbed him through the protective layers of their clothing. When her eyes dropped to his mouth and lingered there like a physical caress, he was dismayed to feel his cock harden painfully against his zipper.  

 

Buffy could smell his sudden arousal and hear the rapid acceleration of his heart rate. Startled, she hurriedly backed away from him, stumbling as she leapt off the stool. “Oh, sorry. I…uh…got a little carried away. Sorry.”

 

Her babbled apology barely registered. He knew without a doubt that if she hadn’t skipped backwards so quickly, he would have kissed her. What the hell was wrong with him? Turning his back to her, he surreptitiously adjusted himself and then moved with quick strides to the door. “I need to get goin’, Summers. We’ll talk about that Initiative business later.”

 

Just like that, he was gone.

 

Buffy stifled a sigh. And awaaaaay he goes with manly virtue a-flutter.

 

She really needed to get a handle on this…whatever it was with the Slayer. It was just…just wrong! Not to mention potentially fatal. It was one thing to find him attractive, to feel mildly protective of him because he had such lousy taste in friends. It became something else entirely when she felt a sudden surge of warmth inside whenever her eyes met his. She didn’t try to delude herself into thinking it might be some residual effect of Willow’s spell. No, some other force was definitely at work here.

 

Gods! She SO didn’t need this right now. Didn’t she have enough to deal with? First Pike, her sire and the love of her undead life, takes off with a Chaos demon. Then, she loses the Gem of Amara to the Slayer, who in turn gives it to Faith. And let’s not forget about the whole being tortured while getting foreign substances shoved into her brain. Wasn’t that enough? Obviously not, or she wouldn’t be pacing and tearing her hair out over it.

 

Peachy. Just freakin’ peachy.

 

Sometimes being a vampire just sucked beyond the telling of it!

 

She turned towards the mirror. Amazing. After all these years, she still expected to see the face of the girl she had been before Pike had turned her. With a snarl of rage, she raised a fist and smashed it into the glass. She was already cursed; what did seven more years matter?

 

 

CHAPTER 3 

William dragged his feet all the way to the Magic Box. An earlier phone call from his Watcher had made it perfectly clear that someone, namely Xander, had taken great pleasure in informing Joyce of Buffy’s escape. He considered lying; telling them that Buffy had been captured and was safely chained in his basement, but knowing his luck, the Watcher would demand he bring her in as proof. Besides, he was an abysmal liar. He tended to get all nervous and twitchy. Three people knew immediately when he was lying; his father, his Watcher, and Buffy.

 

Cramming his hands in his pockets, he allowed his thoughts to dwell briefly on the blond vampire. When he had managed to fall asleep last night, his dreams had been haunted by images of everything they had done during their faux engagement and that almost—but not quite-- kiss at the mansion. Even thinking of it now brought a rush of blood to his groin that had him shifting uncomfortably. He definitely needed to ask Willow if there might be any residual effects from her spell. The idea of asking her to do some sort of forgetting spell was quickly squashed. He wasn’t letting her anywhere near him with her bloody magic.

 

What he really needed to do was put his foot down with a certain Miss Harmony Kendall, and start demanding some girlfriendy attention. It had been weeks since she had allowed him to touch her. Hell, she hadn’t even bothered to return his calls for three days now. William sighed, heavily. He missed the early days of their relationship when they couldn’t bear to be apart. Now, since she had set her sights on joining the most exclusive sorority at UCS, he was lucky if he saw her once a week. Well, there was one way to put a stop to that, he thought.

 

He pulled his cell phone from his back pocket and punched Harmony’s key. When the mailbox immediately picked up, William cursed. He left his message in a deceptively calm voice and squashed the ‘end’ button so viciously he nearly cracked the faceplate.

 

There. That was one thing done. Now, time to talk to Willow. With a resigned sigh, he shoved open the door of the Magic Box.

 

Joyce was with a customer when he entered the shop. Willow and Xander were sitting at the back table; she had her head buried in some huge dusty book while he was enthralled with his Gameboy. Catching site of him, Willow hurried to put her book aside and pat the chair next to her with a smile.

 

Returning her smile with an uneasy one, William took the chair. “Hey, Willow. About that spell…”

 

She turned as red as her hair and started stammering. “I’m s-so sorry, William! I can’t imagine how a-awful it must have been for you to have Buffy all over you like…like…”

 

“A saucy minx writhing in heat?” Xander helpfully supplied.

 

Willow ‘eeped’ and covered her eyes.

 

William scowled at him. “Makin’ things worse, here, mate.”

 

Xander shrugged. Not caring in the least, he dove back into his game.

 

“Remind me again why we keep you around, Harris,” William muttered. He turned back to Willow. “It’s fine, pet. Really, I just wanted to ask you if I can expect any residual…feelings from it.”

 

Her eyebrows puckered in a frown. “Why? Are you still having…feelings? For Buffy?”

 

“No! Hell no! I’m just bein’…cautious. That’s all.” Ha! William thought triumphantly. A lie without stuttering and makin’ an ass out of myself! The day was looking up.

 

Just then, his watcher cleared her throat. “William, I’d like to have a word with you about what went on last night. I heard that Buffy escaped after Willow reversed the spell.”

 

Xander looked up with a satisfied grin. William fought the urge to rip out his spleen and stuff it up his nostrils. Bloody wanker.

 

“Glad to see you’re feelin’ better, Joyce. Eyes feelin’ okay?” he asked.

 

“Yes, I’m fine. Were you able to find Buffy and chain her back up?” Joyce asked, hopefully.

 

William drew in a deep breath. “Found her, yes. Contained, um…not exactly.”

 

Three pairs of eyes stared at him. William fought the urge to squirm. “Oh, bloody hell! She’s shacked up at the Crawford Mansion, all right?” He plunged ahead before anyone could say anything. “I just don’t see the need to chain her up in my basement anymore. She’s told us everything she knows about that lab where she was held. Besides, she’s toothless now. We have no reason to keep her.”

 

“William, she’s a vampire. I should think that would be reason enough,” Joyce stated firmly, crossing her arms in front of her.

 

Rolling his eyes, William stood and began to pace. “So, I should start chaining up every vampire I see from now on? No offense, Joyce, but I’m gonna need a bigger house. Not to mention a heeeefty salary from the Council of Wankers in order to keep ‘em all in pig’s blood.”

 

“Alright, no need for sarcasm. You’ve made your point,” Joyce sighed. “Now, about this other matter-“

 

Willow interrupted. “I told her about the party Saturday night.”

 

“Party? What party?” William wracked his brains trying to remember what Willow was talking about.

 

“The end of semester bash. The keg party?” she hinted.

 

“Oh. Right. The keg party.”

 

“Do you even know what a kegger is?” Xander asked snidely.

 

Gritting his teeth, William turned to Joyce. “What about it?”

 

Joyce began stacking the books on the table. “I just wondered why you hadn’t mentioned it. You know, William, it IS alright to take an evening off once in a while.”

 

William stared at her suspiciously. “Who are you and what’ve you done with my Watcher?”

 

“I’m not that bad, William,” she said defensively. “I think it would be a good idea for you to be there in case…something comes up.”

 

Aha. The real reason she was being so accommodating. Like partying and work meshed well? Three hundred drunken coeds running all over campus, and he was supposed to join in the fun? RIGHT. He’d be lucky if he even got the chance to snog with Harmony in a dark corner. Judging by past events, most of his time was going to be spent staking any vampires that decided to do their drinking second hand by snacking on the inebriated students. William sighed. Such was the life of the Chosen One.

 

“I’ll go if Harm wants to. She hasn’t called me back yet.”

 

“What? You haven’t taken her to the newest debate over at the student union? ‘Which author was a greater influence in the 20th century, Steinbeck or Hemingway?’ The poor girl must be heart broken,” Xander quipped.

 

William glared at Joyce. “You’ve let him into the books without big shiny pictures again, haven’t you?”

 

“Hey! I’m just as smart as you are. I just don’t shove it in people’s faces, nerd-boy!” Xander yelled.

 

“Sure. This from the man that has ‘Would you like fries with that?’ in big letters on his resume,” William snarked.

 

Xander lumbered over and the two of them stood nose to nose, both breathing heavily with barely suppressed anger. “You might have all that supernatural strength, but by God I’ll get in one good hit,” he hissed.

 

“You might get two hits if I bounce you hard enough, dough-boy,” William didn’t back down an inch. He was tired of Xander’s bullshit attitude. When he had first moved here with his father, he and the brunette had been the best of friends. They had even shared a dorm room for their first semester, but around the time that William had started dating Harmony, Xander’s long-time girlfriend Cordelia Chase had abruptly broken things off with him and moved with her parents to LA. Xander’s whole attitude towards his friend had undergone a drastic change for the worst.

 

“ENOUGH!” Joyce bellowed. Both young men flinched and backed away from each other. “The two of you are worse than a pair of toddlers. I don’t know what has happened to turn you against each other, but it needs to stop right now!”

 

Willow sat in her chair, a silent witness to this exchange. She knew what had come between the two former roommates, and ‘it’ was coming through the door right now.

 

“Blondie bear!!” Harmony squealed as she teetered into the shop on her impossibly high heels. She completely ignored Willow and Joyce and only spared Xander a derisive smile before taking the time to actually look at her boyfriend.

 

Her mouth fell open and her eyes bugged out. “Oh my God, William! What happened to your hair?”

 

“Awww. Don’t you like it, Harmony? Buffy did it for him,” Xander said slyly.

 

~@~@~@~

 

Just when he thought the day couldn’t get any worse.

 

He had walked Harmony over to the children’s park so that he could explain the previous day’s nonsense without Xanders interference. Twilight was falling before he finished the whole quixotic tale. After forgiving him prettily, Harm had dropped her little bomb.

 

She now sat on the bench beside him, her arms folded across her impressive bosom and a pout on her glossy lips. “I don’t see what the problem is.  It’s not like I said I wouldn’t go with you. I just want to see if one of these frat guys asks me first,” she sulked.

 

William stared at her in amazement. “The problem is that you’re supposed to be MY girl, Harmony. Or has that changed and you just ‘forgot’ to tell me?”

 

“You don’t understand, William. I’m pledged to the most popular sorority on campus. I need to be seen with the right kind of guy to make a good impression with these girls. Image is everything, you know that!”

 

“And I’m not the ‘right kind of guy?’” His voice was flat and emotionless. She had changed so much since this whole sorority business had started. She had gone from a sweet, slightly shy girl to the vapid, bubble-headed fashionista sitting beside him. They had nothing in common anymore.

 

She cast him a critical glance. “You’re a sweet guy, William, but I’ve outgrown you. I have ambitions now. No offense, but you’re beneath me.”

 

Her careless words shredded his heart. William stood up, jamming his hands in his back pockets as he stared out over the park. “So, this is it?” he asked.

 

Harmony nodded, not even bothering to manufacture a few fake tears for appearances sake. “It’s for the best.”

 

A black convertible roared to a stop a short distance from them. He recognized the two frat-boys that climbed out. Riley Finn and Angel O’Conner; both from Lowell House. They parked their asses on the hood of the ragtop and yelled for Harmony. Without a word of goodbye, she trotted over to them; squealing when the muscle-bound O’Conner picked her up and swung her into the car. They were all laughing as they sped past him down the street.

 

 

CHAPTER FOUR 

Knowing that his friends were watching shamelessly through the shop window, William schooled his features into an expressionless mask. Inside, he was bubbling over with hurt rage and he was consumed with the need to pound something into small, bleeding pieces. When he re-entered the Magic Box, he refused to meet anyone’s eyes, heading straight for the stairs that led down to the training room.

 

“Let me guess. She wasn’t in the mood for-GAGHK!!” Before Xander could finish his gibe, William had him pinned to the wall by his throat. Oxygen quickly became an issue for the brunette. He stared into glacial blue eyes and felt fear of the Slayer for the first time.

 

“One more word out of you tonight, Harris, and I swear I’ll pull out your rib-cage and wear it as a fucking hat,” he said, his voice was deadly calm. Shoving him away in disgust, William disappeared down the stairs.

 

Xander winced as he felt the bruises on his throat, his eyes wild as he stared at Willow and Joyce. Willow dropped her eyes with a frown. Joyce merely shook her head.

 

“I don’t know why you’re acting so surprised. One of these days you’re going to push him too far with that mouth of yours, Xander. And trust me; I won’t do a thing to stop him.”

 

Willow made a move to go after William and Joyce stopped her with a shake of the head. “Just leave him alone for a while. Why don’t you and Xander go on home? I need to close up, and then I’ll try to have a word with him.”

 

Downstairs, William heard the young pair leave and the faint sounds of Joyce moving around above his head. He was taping up his hands when he heard the tap of her high heels coming down the stairs. She paused in the doorway, looking at him with kind hazel eyes. He concentrated on getting the tape just right, avoiding her gaze.

 

“I know we don’t always see eye to eye on our duties, William, but I want you to know that I’m here if you ever need to talk,” she told him softly.

 

He had to blink back the quick sting of tears that her kindness brought. She was so atypical of what he had been led to believe a Watcher should be like. Sometimes she could be harsh, but then there were times like this when she reminded him so much of his mother that it made his heart hurt.

 

“I know you are, Joyce. And maybe later I’ll feel like talking about it. Right now, I just… I can’t.”

 

She smiled her understanding. “Come by my apartment later, if you like. I’ll make you some hot chocolate.”

 

Her offer brought a faint smile to his face. “I might take you up on that.”

 

“I’m going home, now. Unless… Do you need me to hold that bag for you?”

 

William gave her a horrified look. The last time she had tried to help him work out he had accidentally broken her arm. “No! I mean…I’ll be fine. You go on home, Joyce. I’ll make sure I lock up when I leave.”

 

“Goodnight, William.”

 

“Night, Joyce.”

 

Once she had gone, he felt free to take out all the anger and frustration he was feeling on the helpless punching bag. He tore into it with a flurry of kicks and punches; his strong jaw clenched and eyes narrowed with rage. He kept at it for nearly an hour, so distracted that the tingles on the back of his neck went unnoticed. He wasn’t aware of her presence until he spun to deliver a punishing roundhouse kick to the bag.

 

The bag snapped from its chain from the force of his kick and thumped to the floor, sand flowing from its split seams. He turned to face her, chest heaving from his exertions. “What do you want?”

 

Buffy eyed the now flaccid bag. “Working out a little sexual frustration, Slayer?” she asked, lifting one perfectly arched eyebrow.

 

William  pinched the bridge of his nose hard. “Titillatin’ as your company is, Summers, I’ll take a rain-check. I’ve taken all the shit I can handle today.”

 

Buffy stared at him in horror. “You’re not crying, are you?” 

 

William lowered his hand and glared at her. He would slit his throat before he cried in front of her. All he wanted was to be left alone; to wallow in self-pity for a few centuries. “I’ll repeat my question since it’s obvious you didn’t hear me the first time. What do you want?” he asked tiredly.

 

She shrugged in studied nonchalance. “I just had a few things I wanted to discuss with you.” She smiled cajolingly. “Besides, you know you like having me around. Admit it, Slayer. You’re dazzled by my sparkling wit. Your nights are that much better with me around.”

 

Usually this was enough to earn her a liberal dose of his cutting sarcasm. Tonight he merely sighed and sat down on the cold floor, head hanging between his shoulders.  “Not tonight, Summers. Go play in traffic somewhere. I just want to be left alone.”

 

Buffy moved cautiously forward until she stood above William, her pretty face etched with concern. “I take it Harriet didn’t like the hair?”

 

He wouldn’t even look at her. Didn’t even take offense at the way she mangled his precious girlfriend’s name. This was BAD. “Slayer?” She knelt down beside him, cautiously. She tilted her head to look up into his face. “Will? I’m really sorry if she didn’t like it. I can dye it back if you really want me to.”

 

His voice was so low at first; she had to stretch to hear him, even with her advanced hearing. “She didn’t say too much about the hair. She was too busy breakin’ up with me because I’m ‘beneath her’ now.”

 

Her useless heart filled with pity for him. She hated seeing him hurt this way and wanted nothing more than to rip Harmony Kendall’s throat out. Moved by the intense need she felt to protect him, Buffy dared to reach out to him. Laying one hand on top of his bent head, she allowed her fingers to rake gently through the white-blond curls. He tensed a little under her touch but made no move to push her away.

 

“Poor Will,” she crooned, still petting his hair. “You love well, if not wisely.”

 

Truer words were never spoken. William chuckled bitterly. The only reason he’d started the whole relationship with Harmony was because of Faith. The souled vampiress had broken off their relationship to leave him free to pursue a ‘normal’ life with a ‘normal’ woman while she pranced off to LA. Even he had to admit that he had bleedin’ tragic taste in women. One ensouled vampire and one human, both were supposed to be better than the ‘evil’ creature beside him, yet she was the one offering him compassion. The infinite gentleness of her hand was soothing to his battered soul. It felt right. SHE felt right.

 

William lifted his head, the movement causing her hand to slip down over his cheek. Without thinking, he curved his warm palm over her small hand to hold it there. “Is there a reason why you’re still here, Summers?” he asked, quietly looking up into her tear-washed green eyes.

 

What the hell! Buffy thought. The worst he can do is stake me for this, and if he does then it’ll be a welcome release from all the torment I feel just being near him. Making her decision, she moved closer, lifting her leg slowly and straddling his lap. When he looked up at her in slack-jawed amazement, she framed his face in her soft hands and kissed him.

 

To say he was stunned was a gross understatement. He was flabbergasted. Buffy Summers- hottie vampiress extraordinaire- was kissing him again. And without benefit of magic. The familiar, lush sliding movements of her soft lips, interspersed with delicate swipes of her small pink tongue brought a rush of blood to his groin.

 

In spite of his immediate reciprocation, William knew he should push her away. There was no handy Willow spell this time to blame his response on. He had to put a stop to this before it got out of hand.

 

He tried. Really. He even lifted his hands to shove her off his lap. They made it as far as the curve of her hips and fell there. Clenching his fingers desperately into the fabric of her cotton skirt, he pulled her closer instead, sliding her soft mound over his suddenly raging erection.

 

Buffy purred, gliding her hips back and forth to generate more friction. She captured his full bottom lip between hers and sucked on it. She could feel the indecision warring inside him and pulled back slightly. Their lips barely brushed and her unneeded breath mingled with his as she spoke.

 

“Maybe it’s wrong, but you feel so amazingly good. Let me do this for you, Will. I can make you feel so good, baby.” She kissed him again, nipping at his panting mouth. She moved to his ear, nuzzling with her nose, and then laving the sensitive hollow behind it with her tongue. “Let me give you this. No one ever has to know but you and me.”

 

Encouraged by his increased pace as he ground up into her, Buffy ran her small hands over the hard muscles of his chest and stomach. Green eyes locked with stormy blue. Never wavering from his gaze, she reached for his waistband. In two practiced moves she had his button-fly’s popped open and held the entire throbbing length of him in her palms, fingertips dancing along each ridge and vein.

 

The instant her cool, soft hands encircled his cock, William’s decision was made. Three words ran thru his mind. Want. Take. Have.

 

The shift in control was so subtle Buffy was completely unaware of it until he slid his hands up under her skirt and found the silk of her thong. Twisting it around his fingers, he shredded it from her body with one violent tug. Buffy cried out as he roughly thrust two fingers inside her dripping channel and massaged her inner walls. Slicking the pad of his thumb with her juices, he ran it back and forth over her tingling clitoris with firm strokes.

 

She felt his free hand reach around her back and grasp the material of her top. The strings that held it up over her shoulders snapped under the strain and the remains were dragged over her head and flung across the room. She heard him groan as he nuzzled his face in the hollow between her full breasts. He greedily latched onto one pebbled nipple and sucked, alternating between harsh suction and gentle licks of his tongue.

 

Her only sexual experiences had been with other vampires and Buffy was desperate to feel his hot, bare skin on hers. She tried to pull his t-shirt off with one hand, not wanting to let go of the grip she had on him. With an impatient growl, she released him and used both hands to rip it down the front, exposing the cut perfection of his pecs and abs.

 

“God, you’re so beautiful,” she breathed, running her fingers over his muscles as she purred her appreciation; scratching him lightly as she skimmed down and took him in hand once more.

 

William grunted, lunging against her hand as she encircled him once more and began pumping him firmly up and down. He left her breasts and covered her mouth with his, thrusting his tongue in and out , mimicking the motion of his fingers as he pistoned them in and out of her sopping pussy. He could feel her inner muscles tensing as she circled her hips against his hand.

 

Pulling his fingers from her tight little quim, he grabbed her hands and lifted them to brace against the wall behind them. Her smoldering green eyes never left his as his hands went to her hips, bruising them as he lifted her up and slammed her down on his swollen cock.

 

Buffy threw her head back with a sobbing laugh. She barely allowed her body time to adjust to his size before she began to ride him. What had started out as a simple urge to make him feel better the best way she knew how, was rapidly turning into the best fuck of her un-life. There was nothing gentle or cautious in his touch; fingers bruised, teeth bit, and his thick cock stretched her to the point of pain. She loved it. This was a side of William that no one else had ever seen. No one but her. Rough. Wild. Passionate. Deep inside, she had known he would be like this.

 

William was consumed by an almost primal lust. He had never been able to let go so fully during sex. With Faith he had been a virgin, while with Harmony he had always been forced to hold back for fear of hurting her. But with Buffy…Ahh sweet, little Buffy! She took everything he gave her and begged for more while returning it all with a passion that equaled his own.

 

Resting her forehead against his, she met his stormy eyes and laughed breathlessly once more from the sheer joy of being with him. His answering grin warmed her from the top of her head to the soles of her feet.

 

“God, Will…got me so hot…feels so good, baby…” The familiar pressure was building in her lower belly and she cried out as she began to grind her clit into his pelvic bone, seeking to hasten the torturously slow climb to her peak.

 

William felt his muscles tighten as he neared his own climax. He kissed her hard, licking and biting at her lips and chin before he drew his teeth down her sensitive throat. “Bite me, Buffy,” He hissed, his breath billowing the hair from her neck as he dragged his tongue over her collarbone.

 

”Will…I can’t,” she gasped out. “The…the chip. No…ah!” In spite of her grim determination to hold it at bay, she felt her demon flicker across her face. Her widened eyes flashed like Peridot’s on fire. “Dammit, Will, no!”

 

William increased the power of his thrusts, bouncing her up and slamming her down hard on his cock. He could feel her beginning to flutter and squeeze around him. He sank his hands into her hair, using the wildly tangled golden strands as reins to guide her into place at his throat. “Chip reacts to pain…mmm…not pleasure. Do it. I know you want to…” His voice was raw with need as he nipped and sucked at her throat. “C’mon, luv. Please, baby. Need it so bad. Need you…Bite. Me. Now!”

 

The feel of his blunt teeth clamping down on Pike’s old marks was all it took. From previous experience, William knew damn good and well what kind of effect that had on a vamp and he used it to his advantage; shamelessly sucking and biting at it.

 

Buffy moaned as her demon came raging forward and she cried out her release as she sank her fangs into the virgin side of his neck without even a flicker of pain from the chip. “MINE!” she snarled mindlessly, her demon in complete control.

 

The sting of her tiny fangs piercing his neck sent Will roaring over the edge as well, his own teeth tearing into her skin, the rich, coppery tang of her blood washing over his tongue. “YOURS!” he growled in response.

 

CHAPTER 5 

William, 

I figured it would be best if I left before you woke up. My reasons are selfish. I simply couldn’t stand to hang around to see the horrified look on your face. I know you think it was a colossal mistake, but I refuse to see it that way.

 

You don't need to worry about the claim. I won't exercise my rights over you. It just wouldn’t be any fun unless you were a willing participant.

 

Don't worry about me blabbing to anyone about what happened, either. I have no illusions as to what this was. I know that for you it wasn’t any huge thing. You'll be back with Hyapatia before you know it and all will be forgiven.

 

But I want you to know that being with you, holding you, watching you sleep…was the best night of my life.

 

Buffy 

 

“What cha doin’, William?”

 

Willow’s voice at his elbow caused him to leap from his chair, haphazardly folding the worn piece of notebook paper and stuffing it in his pocket. “Er…Nothing! That is…I was just goin’ over some notes,” he said, hastily.

 

“Anything I can help you with? I’m good with organizing notes.”

 

William righted his chair and dropped back down into it. “No, no one can help me with this.” He smiled distractedly. “But thanks for the offer.”

 

Grabbing the nearest book, he buried his nose in it, hoping Willow would get the hint and move on to something else. Something besides sitting there staring at him with those sad-puppy eyes.

 

Oh God.

 

No. No way. No way in hell.

 

“Um…Willow?”

 

“Yes, William?” She gave him a perky smile.

 

What was he supposed to do? Just flat out ask her? God, he felt like such a git. She had been acting this way since Oz had left town.

 

Salvation came in the form of Joyce. She brought her cup of tea over to the table and sat down, glancing curiously between the two of them. “Has anyone seen Xander today?” she asked, taking a grateful sip.

 

“I was just going to ask Willow that, myself,” William said, taking the easiest way out.

 

“Oh.” Willow didn’t try to hide her disappointment. “No. I saw him this morning. He was talking to that strange girl. Anya? Yeah, that’s her name. Very strange girl.”

 

Joyce nodded and glanced at William, noting his distraction. “What have you heard from Buffy, William?”

 

His entire body went rigid. “Haven’t seen her in a few days. Why do you ask?”

 

“I was just wondering if she’s remembered anything else from her stay at the Initiative Labs.”

 

“She said if she did, she would let me know.” She had said that she had a few things to discuss with him when she had first arrived at the training room. Before things got…out of hand. Maybe that was what she’d been talking about.

 

“I can’t help but think she’s holding back some vital information. Judging from her condition when she came to us, they were quite advanced in their methods of torture,” Joyce ruminated, running her finger thoughtfully around the rim of her teacup. “Even with her advanced healing it took her days to recover.”

 

Reaching in front of William, she lifted the thick volume that contained the family tree and exploits of the Order of Aurelius. “Buffy is a most fascinating case. It’s hard to believe that such a tiny creature could wreak so much havoc. I do wish she would be a little more informative about her past. I’m sure her accounts would be far more accurate, not to mention more intriguing than those of some crusty old watcher.”

 

William had to agree with Joyce on that point. More and more of late he was beginning to question the writings of former watchers about vampires and their traditions, rituals, and habits.

 

Particularly their mating habits.

 

Claiming, to be precise.

 

None of the weighty volumes he had searched through over the past few days were very forthcoming about mating or claiming. And while there were several vague references to slayers mating with vampires, there was no record at all of a slayer being Claimed.

 

William fought the urge to scratch the tiny scars that were covered by the crew neck of his shirt. They didn’t really itch, they…tingled. It was very unsettling. And…arousing. He spent most of his time walking around with a chubby. And the dreams! Never before had he experienced such flagrantly erotic dreams. Dreams that involved Buffy, a can of whipped cream, and naked jello-wrestling.

 

“William!”

 

Joyce waved her hand in front of his eyes and he came back to himself with a start. “What? Oh sorry, Joyce. Guess I’m more tired than I thought. You were sayin’?”

 

She sighed with forced patience. “I was asking if you were still going to make an appearance at that party tonight. I know it will be difficult for you since you’re no longer dating Harmony, and she is sure to be there.”

 

Shrugging, William pushed himself to his feet. “I’ll live. There’s gonna be so many people runnin’ about, I doubt I’ll even see her,” he lied. Knowing his luck, she would be in charge of the welcoming committee. Joyce didn’t need to hear that, though. “I think I’m gonna head home and take a nap. Maybe spend some time with my father if he isn’t at the gallery.”

 

Joyce flushed with pleasure as she thought of William’s father; a very handsome and gentle man. “Please tell him I said hello. It’s been a while since I’ve had a chance to talk to him.”

 

William rolled his eyes and smirked. “I’ll be sure to tell him.” How strange would that be? His father and his watcher, dating. Too funny! With a quick wave to Willow, he headed out the door for the short walk home.

 

***

 

He lasted a little more than an hour at the party. He was amazed that so far his luck had held and there had been no sign of Harmony or her two lap-dogs. He chatted with several classmates and spotted Xander making out in a corner with Anya Jenkins. Strange bird, that one. Pretty, but strange.

 

William was making his way towards the door when he found himself face to face with Harmony. An extremely inebriated Harmony. She grinned at him sloppily and began to giggle.

 

“William! Hi!”

 

“Hi, Harm. Bye, Harm.” William moved to walk around her and was stopped with a hand in the middle of his chest.

 

“Whoa there, buddy. Were you just hitting on my girl?” Angel O’Conner gave him an evil smile and grabbed Harmony around the waist before she could fall. A few of his little jock toadies were gathered behind him, snickering.

 

William sighed. He so didn’t need this shit, tonight. The bite mark on his neck began to tingle annoyingly. “Nope, just trying to walk around her so I can leave.”

 

“Why are you leaving? Feelin’ like you don’t fit in or something? Or are you going home to study like a good little geek?”

 

The hand on his chest shoved hard and William stumbled back. He regained his balance and closed his eyes briefly, nostrils flaring as he fought to control his anger and frustration. The bite was practically humming now. He would love nothing more than to punch a hole in this asshole’s chest and rip out his still-beating black heart, but such things were messy and tended to draw a crowd. His fists clenched at his sides as he made one last attempt to move away from the couple.

 

Angel noticed his fists and smiled with glee. “Oh, make my DAY little man!” He carelessly tossed a now unconscious Harmony onto a nearby sofa. “Bring it on, BOY.”

 

A disturbance near the door drew Angel’s attention away from him and his mouth dropped open in shock.

 

“Holy fuck, would ya look at that.” One of the toadies groaned. “Dude, she’s brutally HOT!”

 

William turned to see what they were looking at and nearly swallowed his tongue.

 

Buffy.

 

A Buffy he’d never seen before.

 

She looked like original sin, dressed in midnight black. The top consisted of a scrap of black silk, its sleeves nothing more than two strips of material that looped over her shoulders from the front, leaving her back completely bare. The sides curved up under her small round breasts before meeting the draped front and falling to her waist. Her jeans were hip-huggers that hung so low that they defied gravity. On her feet she wore black ‘fuck me’ stilettos with four inch heels. Her long hair was curly and wild, her make-up dark and flawless. She looked like a wet dream come true.

 

William was instantly hard as a rock just looking at her.

 

The crowd of drunken coeds parted before her like the Red Sea as she slinked like a tiny black panther across the floor.

 

Straight to William’s side

 

One soft hand slid up the back of his shirt and rubbed soothingly while its mate finger-walked up his chest. “Are these men trying to pick a fight with you, precious? Oh, I don’t think so. No fighting for my man. It might bruise that handsome face, and I just couldn’t bear that.”

 

Buffy smiled wickedly up into his bemused face. Her green eyes sparkling like emeralds as she teasingly ran one long, black painted nail across his jaw. Her body was twined as close to William’s as she could get and still remain a separate entity. Before he knew what hit him, she slid her fingers into the curls at his nape and pulled his head down for a long, juicy kiss with plenty of visible tongue action.

 

“Mmmm…you taste just yummy, darlin’.” She murmured breathily as she pulled away. “Where have you been? I’ve been trying to find you but all these big, stupid men kept trying to grab my ass.” Said ass wiggled enticingly.

 

Fortunately, he still had the presence of mind to curve his arm around her, his hand resting just above the swell of her bottom, his fingers circling lightly on her bare flesh. A sudden burst of inspiration struck him and he dipped his pinky down the back of her pants. Winding the elastic of her thong around the intruding digit, he pulled it out just enough to give the crowd a peek at the black lace. She pouted charmingly and reached up to lick his ear.

 

“I hear vengeance is a dish best served cold…Are you feeling…hungry, baby?” she whispered for his ears only.

 

William ran his hand up the silky skin of her naked back and sank his fingers into her hair, pulling her head back to stare lustfully at her mouth. “Starved,” he growled before devouring her scarlet lips. His other hand cupped her rounded ass and held her to him as he ground his throbbing dick into her.

 

One of Angel’s little pals let out a hoarse cry and looked down sheepishly at the spreading stain at his crotch. He beat a hasty retreat to the bathrooms.

 

“Dude, are they the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, or what?”

 

Dude-boy must have gotten on Angel’s nerves, because he shoved him viciously to the side, where he landed on Harmony’s snoring form. He waited impatiently for the blond couple to come up for air. When they finally did so, Buffy rubbed William’s nose playfully with hers and let out a breathy giggle.

 

“Just remember, I get to be on top for a little while tonight. You know I love to ‘drive’. You promised!”

 

“So,” Angel cleared his throat loudly to draw her attention. “You’re here with Willy-boy?”

 

She didn’t even deign to look at him, her eyes caressing William’s features. “Of course I am,” she said, her tone implying that Angel was obviously an idiot for daring to suggest otherwise.

 

“Why?” he asked, his voice was laced with scorn.

 

Buffy gave a throaty laugh. “What can I say? Sometimes a girl needs a little monster in her man.” She reached down and outlined William’s painfully obvious assets with her fingernail. “And he’s definitely monster enough to satisfy me. Aren’t you, baby?” she purred. She glanced at Angel over her shoulder, her eyes sweeping down until they rested on his crotch. Lifting one sleek eyebrow, she gave him a pitying look. Turning back to William, she worried his earlobe between her teeth. “Can we go now, sweetie? This party is so lame. They aren’t even doing body shots.”

 

“Anything you want, kitten.” William draped a possessive arm around her. He smirked at Angel. “Gotta get her home, you know how it is.” He cast a doubtful look at Harmony, passed out and drooling on the couch. “Then again, maybe you don’t.”

 

Buffy was laughing as he swept her out the door.

 

CHAPTER 6

 

They made it halfway to William’s car before he swept her up in his arms and twirled her around in a circle, laughing exuberantly.

 

 “Bloody hell, girl! You should go to Hollywood and try bein’ an actress!”  He enthused. “That was an Oscar winnin’ performance, pet.”

 

If Buffy’s smile was a bit strained, he didn’t notice. For her, it hadn’t been play-acting at all. She had merely behaved as she would have if William truly belonged to her. It wouldn’t do to let him know that little fact, though. It was becoming increasingly hard for her to hide her true feelings.

 

“I’m happy to be of service, kind sir.” She had just swept him a perfect curtsy when her eyes were drawn to a movement behind him. They widened in terror, flashing a mixture of peridot and emerald while a harsh, whimpering little growl ripped from her chest.

 

William was stunned at her reaction. He whirled, thinking he was about to confront some huge demon or a gang of vamps.

 

Riley Finn stood behind him, his eyes glued on Buffy while a nasty little smile played about his lips. “Nice to see you’re making new friends, Hostile 17,” he taunted, relishing her obvious fear.

 

Assuming an authoritative tone, he turned to William. “Giles, you might want to step away from your little girlfriend. She has some rather nasty aspects to her personality that she probably hasn’t told you about.”

 

William looked from Buffy to Finn and back again. “What? That she’s a vampire?”

 

“You know?”

 

His shocked expression might have been amusing if he wasn’t aware that Buffy was wigging out in a big way. William made a big show of rolling his eyes. “Well, DUH!”

 

Riley lifted a small radio from his belt and held it to his lips. “HST situation at north parking area, all units converge. Civilian involved. Set to stun. Over.”

 

Everything was suddenly clear. William felt like a complete fool for missing all the signs. Hostile 17. Buffy’s intense fear of the man. It all stank of one thing. The Initiative.

 

William stepped in front of Buffy, blocking her from Finn’s line of sight. “Sorry, but I can’t allow you to take her. She’s my responsibility, not yours. Call up your boys in green and tell ‘em to buggar off.”

 

“Who the hell do you think you are?”

 

“I thought a professional demon chaser like you woulda figured it out by now. I’m the Slayer.”

 

Riley just stared at him.

 

“Slay-er? – Chosen One. He who hangs out a lot in cemeteries?” William threw up his hands in exasperation. “You’re kiddin’. Ask around. Look it up: Slayer, comma the.”

 

“That’s just a legend.”

 

William turned to Buffy with a grin. “Ya hear that, luv? I’m a bloody legend!” he chortled gleefully.

 

His expression when he forced Buffy to meet his eyes was deadly serious. While he had blocked Finn’s view of her, Buffy had slipped off her high-heeled boots. His lips barely moved as he spoke. “When I turn around, RUN. On three, now. One, two…THREE!”

 

On three, Riley Finn got a face full of Slayer fist, breaking his nose and laying him out cold on the pavement. Buffy took off like a shot, leaping over a passing car and pelting towards the nearby woods that bordered the campus. A man in army kit jumped out from behind a tree and raised his weapon, taking aim at her back. William slugged him in the back of the head and never missed a step as he veered off and took another route, anxious to lead them away from her.

 

Twenty minutes later he slipped through the back door of the mansion on Crawford Street.  Struggling to control his breathing, he looked around the empty rooms. Finding no sign of her on the first floor, he made his way up the stairs.

 

“Buffy? Summers, are you here?” he called softly. Fear squeezed his heart like a vise. What if they had caught her? She wasn’t in any of the bedrooms either. All of them but one were closed up and draped in dust sheets. Where the hell was she?

 

William was beginning to panic when he saw the door to the attic standing ajar. He yanked it open and pounded up the stairs. “Buffy?” he bellowed. “Answer me, dammit!”

 

“Stop screaming, Slayer. I’m over here.”

 

She was sitting by one of the small dormer windows, looking out into the darkness of the back yard. Her eyes were rimmed with red, but her face was completely expressionless.

 

“You’re good. I didn’t see you coming.” There was irony in that last sentence that she really couldn’t face right now.

 

“Wouldn’t be much of a Slayer if you had, would I?” he quipped, trying to lighten the mood for her a little bit.

 

Buffy picked at the hem of her ruined blouse. One of the little straps had been torn loose and a wicked looking gash curved over her shoulder blade. “No, I guess you wouldn’t. You’re the best I’ve come up against. I’ve killed two, so I should know.”

 

William flinched at that. “Want me to clean that scratch for you?” He offered, hoping to derail that particular train of thought.

 

She shrugged carelessly. “It’ll heal.”

 

“Dammit, Buffy…”

 

“Oh fine, just do it and get it over with so you can leave. I’m kinda tired,” she snapped. Stomping past him on scratched and bloody feet, she led the way down the narrow stairs, keeping as far away from him as possible.

 

The bedroom she had chosen had obviously once belonged to the daughter of the house. It looked like a little girl’s room; dripping with white lace and pink ribbons, with delicate furnishings.

 

Not surprisingly, it was the big brass bed that interested William. Queen-sized and made up with pink silk sheets and a puffy white eyelet comforter. Several stuffed animals and the ratty looking stuffed pig held court from a mound of pillows.

 

She ignored the bed in favor of the window seat, her eyes seeking the darkness once more. “Coming here wasn’t one of your brighter ideas, Slayer. What if they followed you?”

 

There was a bottle of water and a first aid kit on the stand beside her bed. He picked them up and walked over to her.

 

“Just like that, eh? No explanations? I help you out of a jam and you treat me like a disease. I see how it is.” He carefully washed the deep scratch and rubbed some ointment into it, relieved to see the edges were already starting to pull together.

 

Spotting a stack of clean laundry on the dresser, he searched through it to find something for her to put on. A large white t-shirt with a faded Nike Swoosh symbol on the front looked vaguely familiar and he glanced at the tag. Sure enough he found his initials marked neatly on the label; courtesy of his anal-retentive father. He looked up at her and lifted an inquiring eyebrow.

 

Another shrug lifted her shoulders, but she refused to meet his eyes.

 

Next he opened the top drawer and pulled out a pair of white lace panties decorated with tiny pink rosebuds. He whistled his appreciation. “Oh, VERY nice!” He dug deeper. “Oo! Red silk! You got the top to match this little number, luv?”

 

Buffy’s cheeks pinked. “Godammit, Slayer! Get your perverted ass out of my panty drawer!” she cried, obviously mortified.

 

“Got any toys in here, Buff?”

 

“SLAYER!!”

 

He smirked, relieved to see her showing some sign of life. He brought her the t-shirt and the white panties. “Is there a shower up here?” he asked, pointedly glancing at her dirty bare feet.

 

She snatched the clothing out of his hands with a glare and stalked off down the hall.

 

While he waited for her to return, William looked around the room. He was having a little problem reconciling this aspect of Buffy’s personality with his preconceived notions. It was hard to imagine a vicious demon that liked to surround herself with so many blatantly girly things. The very feminine bed really caught his attention. He sat down on it and bounced a few times. Very…comfy.

 

The sound of Buffy’s bare feet padding back up the hallway sent him running over to the window. He took up her earlier position, checking out every dark corner. When he turned to face her she was holding up her ruined jeans, scowling at the shredded legs.

 

“I loved these pants. They were the last thing I stole before I became everyone’s favorite lab rat.” Angrily she balled them up and threw them in a corner. “And my boots. Those were my favorite boots, too.”

 

“I’ll replace them, Summers. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even have been there.”

 

“That isn’t the point and you know it!” She raged. “Don’t you get it? It’s just one more thing they’ve taken from me!” Her bottom lip quivered. “Fucking bastards! Why didn’t they just stake me? Better yet, why don’t YOU? I’d prefer being a pile of dust than living in constant fear like this.” She dashed the tears from her face in frustration. “God, I hate this. I hate feeling this helpless!”

 

She didn’t resist when William pushed her down on the bench in front of the vanity. Taking her hairbrush from the cluttered top, he unwound the towel from her head and began running the soft bristles through the wet strands. She closed her eyes and savored the feel of his hands in her hair as he worked through the tangles, beginning to calm under his touch.

 

“Are you ready to tell me what happened while you were in there?” he asked, keeping his voice deliberately low and soothing. He didn’t question why he was being so gentle with her. It just felt right.

 

So much for calm. Might as well tell him, Buff. It’s not like it’s going to lower his opinion of you any further, she thought. Fisting her hands in her lap, she nodded. “Just…don’t interrupt me, okay? If I stop I don’t think I’ll be able to go on.”

 

When he gave her an affirmative nod, she took a deep breath and began. In a deliberately flat voice, she told him everything she could remember that they had done to her. Cutting her flesh to clock how fast she could heal. Injecting her with poisons to see how it might affect her demon. Squirting her with Holy Water and exposing her to sunlight to mark the different degrees of burns she received from each. None of that had been too unbearable. During her years with Pike and Faith she had built up an amazing tolerance for pain. Pain could be handled if one had the right mindset.

 

Rape was harder for her to deal with.

 

Agent Finn had taken a ‘special’ interest in Hostile 17. Every night she was restrained and taken to a room lit by one bare light bulb with only a thin mattress on the floor. That first night she had fought him so hard and long that there was blood streaming from her nose and ears because she refused to give in to the chip firing inside her head.

 

Eventually, though, she learned to close herself off; to shut him out. She simply lay there and let him do as he wished. By sheer strength of will, she reduced herself into a near comatose state that she allowed nothing to penetrate.

 

This angered Finn, but nothing he threatened her with would make her respond to him. Thinking her lethargy was caused from the drugged blood they were feeding her, he ordered it stopped and gave her human blood in its place.

 

“When my chance came, I was ready for it. Once I stopped fighting them, they didn’t bother with restraints. Taking the two of them out wasn’t hard, but I thought my head was going to explode before I found my way into the ventilation system. I could hear him screaming at them while they were searching for me. I knew if they caught me again…if he got his hands on me…” A shudder wracked her small body and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut. “I found a piece of a broom handle and made a stake out of it. I was fully prepared to dust myself before I let him touch me again.”

 

Buffy finally lifted anguished green eyes to meet his. “You know the rest, of course. Neutered vampire girl.” He winced when she spoke the name he had used the most during her time in his basement. “She can’t bite, can’t feed, and can’t fight. And can’t defend herself against anything that decides to attack her. I’m completely helpless, Slayer. Do you know what that does to me?” she asked, pressing a hand to her chest. “You know all that I’ve done. All that I was capable of. I’m nothing, now. They made sure of it.”

 

William laid the brush down and tunneled his fingers through the silk of her hair. Grasping her head, he squeezed it gently between his hands, tilting it back until her green eyes clashed with his.

 

“I do know what you’ve done. I know all that you were capable of. I also know that you have a capacity for greatness inside you. Your demon couldn’t take that away from you; couldn’t kill the light I see inside you. Don’t let that bastard do it, Buffy. Help me fight them.”

 

He turned her around on the bench and knelt in front of her, his hands warm on her bare thighs. “You may not see it, but I do. I believe in you, Buffy. You could never be ‘nothing’.”

 

She stared down at him, eyes wide and uncertain, lips quivering as she fought to control the powerful surge of emotion his words wrought within her. “I’m so afraid I’ll disappoint you.”

 

William smiled at her. A smile of such warmth and conviction that it took her breath away. He nudged her thighs apart and moved between them until his mouth was a whisper away from hers. “Never,” he told her before he claimed her trembling lips in a scorching kiss.

 

 

 

CHAPTER 7 

Buffy returned his kiss with a passion that matched his. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she used them to draw him tighter against her. She moaned low in her throat as his hands slid under her bottom, squeezing and kneading as he rubbed against her.

 

He stood up, still holding her tightly against him, and walked over to the bed. Without breaking the kiss, he turned and fell backwards onto the mattress. She giggled against his mouth as they bounced.

 

"What are you doing?" she asked, glad for once that she didn't need to breath as he continued to lavish her lips with soul deep kisses.

 

"Promised a lady I would let her be on top for a while tonight." he muttered, running his hands up under her shirt to rub the satiny skin of her back and bottom. "Mmm...Your skin is so soft. When I touch you it's like touching heaven."

 

Buffy shivered at his words. A tiny frown creased her brow as she wondered exactly where they were going with this. Ruthlessly, she shoved the thought away. For now, she was content to accept whatever he could give her. Pulling reluctantly away from him, she sat up and looked down at him, smiling and flexing her fingers on his chest like a little cat.

 

"You know," she purred. "You're wearing way too many clothes, mister."

 

He curled his tongue behind his front teeth in a lascivious grin. "Gonna do somethin' about that?" he asked, thrusting up against her suggestively.

 

"Oh, you betcha." She grabbed a fistful of his shirt and tugged him into a sitting position. "Lift your arms, unless you want this torn off you."

 

William quirked his scarred eyebrow at her. "If you tear it, I'm sure I have a couple more around here to replace it, luv," he teased.

 

Her face burned that becoming shade of pink again. "I only have this one. And no, you can't have it back." She tugged his shirt out of his jeans and pulled it up and over his head, trapping his arms in the sleeves. Posed in this manner, the muscles in his arms bulged enticingly. Unable to resist, she leaned forward and licked them, tracing each swell of muscle with her tongue. "Mmm...Salty Slayer goodness." she murmured, nibbling her way down his arm and across his shoulder. Reaching her mark on his neck, she laved it lightly then bit down on it with blunt teeth.

 

"WHOA!" William shouted as he lunged against her. The tingle of earlier became an arc of white-hot sensation that raced from her mouth on his neck straight to his dick. "Holy fuck! Do that again!"

 

Laughing at the awe in his voice, she did it again, bearing down on him and swirling her hips as he arched into her again. He looked dazed when she lifted her head. "Just a little something to get the motors revving, baby," she cooed, outlining his panting mouth with a fingernail.

 

"M-motor’s revved...get my fuckin’ jeans off...please?" he begged.

 

Pouting, she pushed him back to recline on the bed. "At least you said 'please'." Scooting back on his thighs, she ran her splayed hands down his chest and stomach until she reached the fly of his jeans. Gotta love button-flies, she thought, licking her lips as she slowly worked her way down. Once they were loose she quickly skimmed them down and off his legs.

 

She kitty-crawled back up his body, pausing above his rampant erection. It lay against his stomach; long and thick, the tip weeping with precum. She leaned down and blew a stream of cool air on it, delighted when it seemed to jump towards her mouth.

 

William leaned up on his elbows and looked down his body at her, his jaw clenched and his nostrils flared.

 

Buffy traced a long blue vein with her tongue, feeling the trembling in his muscles as she did so. "Anyone ever done this for you before, Slayer?" she asked silkily, lipping her way back to the head.

 

He closed his eyes with a groan and shook his head, unable to speak.

 

"What a crime. How could any woman not want to taste this?” She licked him from base to tip, taking him in hand to swirl her tongue around the tip and dipping into the dripping slit to taste him. "Mmm, you taste delicious. All smooth and salty cream."

 

William's breathing was ragged as he watched her tiny pink tongue move over his cock like it was an ice cream. He felt her small hands curve around his girth and squeeze as she jacked him up and down. His head fell back on his neck and his breath hissed through clenched teeth.

 

"What do you think, Will? Want me to keep going, hmm?"  She grazed her teeth along the shaft, nibbling delicately. “Did you know that vampires give the best head? It’s the whole non-breathing factor. I can just keep going and going. With the right incentive, of course.”

 

"Oh God...Christ...please, pet...please..." he babbled, almost mindless with the need to feel her take him fully into her warm, wet mouth.

 

Buffy didn't hesitate. Using one hand to hold him steady, she quickly slid her mouth over him, taking in as much of him as she could in one gulp while she twisted and rolled her tongue against him.

 

"AHHHH! FUCK!" he howled in ecstasy.

 

She growled her pleasure around him, the vibration adding to his already heightened desire. Buffy knew he wasn't going to last long this first time. He writhed and moaned under her as she sucked and licked greedily at his throbbing flesh.

 

William felt himself getting close and reached down to pull her away. "Buffy...baby, I'm gonna…" he gasped, twisting his fingers in her hair. She jerked away from him and made that little growly noise again while taking as much of him as she could down her throat. When she began to swallow around him, it drove him over the edge. Crying out her name, he let himself go, flooding her mouth with his load. His entire body jerked with each swallowing motion her throat made.

 

Buffy swallowed the last of his spunk and leisurely cleaned him with her tongue. Pride swelled within her at the dazed, dreamy expression on his face. "Like that, baby?"

 

He struggled to control his respirations. "Ask me again after I pull the three feet of bed sheet out of my ass," he panted. “My God, you were…that was…”

 

A smug smile curved her lips. It was always good to see a man completely incoherent. Whatever happened between them, he would always remember this. In the words of her immortal Sire: a man never forgot his first blowjob. Or the woman that gave it to him.

 

Bracing himself up on one arm, William tightened his grip on her hair and drew her up for a kiss. Tasting himself on her tongue was another first. He found it to be completely erotic, his cock twitching with each swipe of their battling tongues.

 

Hauling her back across his lap, his hands slid up under the t-shirt and closed around the lacy material of her panties. The delicate ribbons that tied at her hips snapped and he pulled them from her. He was skimming the shirt up over her head before the panties hit the floor.

 

"Mmm, naked Buffy." His hands were deliciously hot on her cool skin as he stroked a path over her breasts and belly to dip between her legs. "Naked, WET Buffy," he murmured his appreciation as he slid his fingers inside her.

 

Buffy rode his hand, her head flung back. Her hands fluttered all over his body, touching whatever she could reach, trying to consume him through her fingers. Suddenly needing to feel his weight on top of her, she linked her hands behind his neck and rolled to the side, pulling him with her. Her eyes closed in bliss as she felt his body slide between her thighs; his welcome weight pressing her into the fluffy comforter.

 

“Thought you wanted to drive this time, luv?” he questioned, his voice rough with lust.

 

She shook her head, curving one leg up over his hip as she slipped one hand down to take him firmly in hand. “You drive, honey. I’ll read the map,” she quipped, teasing the corner of his mouth with her pointed tongue. Her hand pulled gently at his cock, tugging him to rest at her wet entrance. Reaching for his mouth with hers, she surrendered to another deep, drugging kiss. “Now. Need you inside me, now,” she whispered urgently.

 

Will slid into her, his hard length filling her, his thick girth stretching her. She was incredibly tight-- a wet, soft, velvet glove squeezing him. He held her tightly against him, his cheek resting against hers as he gave her the time she needed to adjust to his invasion of her body. When he began to move, he felt her inner muscles ripple as she accepted the long, possessive strokes of his body.

 

Digging her nails into his back as he rocked slowly against her, Buffy threw her head back in rapture. The pressure had been building since he entered her and she was lost in sensation, frantic for relief from the incredible tension. Almost…she was almost…

 

“Will!” She screamed his name as she careened over the edge, her body shivering with the force of her climax.

 

He increased the pace of his thrusts aggressively, bruising her slim hips as he held her dancing body in place. Each stroke forced a grunt of raw pleasure from his throat. He felt the walls of her vagina begin to flutter and clench around him again.

 

“Who do you belong to, Buffy?” He hissed through clenched teeth. Each word from his lips was accompanied by a hard, grinding twist of his hips. “Tell me who you belong to…”

 

She arched against him, clamping down on him, her taut muscles wringing his cock mercilessly as she came again. “YOU!” she sobbed in a lost little voice. “Only you, Will.”

 

Her soft, broken words were all the incentive his body needed. William plunged into her one last time, digging in, burying himself deep within her as he drenched her walls with his hot seed. He collapsed against her limp body, completely spent.

 

Buffy didn’t bother to stifle the tiny whimper of loss she felt when William pulled his spent cock from her and rolled to her side. She waited, her body suddenly tensed, for him to jump up and throw his clothes on and go storming off. When she turned onto her side facing away from him, she was startled to feel him hook an arm around her waist and drag her back against him.

 

“Where you goin’?” he muttered sleepily as he spooned around her back and buried his face in her hair.

 

She closed her eyes and smiled, blissfully happy for the first time in a very long time. “Nowhere. I’m perfectly content right here.”

 

“Mmm. Good. Sleep now.” He snuggled closer, his warm hand rubbing back and forth over her stomach.

 

And surprisingly enough—she did.

 

 

CHAPTER 8

William left class early to avoid Willow. He wanted to talk to Joyce without any of the others around so he could fill her in on everything Buffy had told him. At first she had been resistant to his watcher knowing all the details, but William assured her that he would only skim over the basics, and that Joyce would be completely discreet. No one else need ever know of her torment at the hands of the demon-hunting commandos.

              

The watcher was immersed in a new shipment of books when William entered the shop, the cowbell above the door clanging annoyingly. “I swear, one of these days I’m gonna rip that bloody thing down and shove it up Xander’s ass,” he muttered.

 

“What was that, William?” Joyce asked, glancing up at him absentmindedly.

 

“Nothin’ important.”

 

She picked up a tall stack of books and carried them over to the shelves. “How did things go last night with the party?” she asked, beginning to arrange the new arrivals neatly while he brought the rest over to her.

 

“No vamps. Had a big confrontation with Harm’s new boy toy.” He paused. “Talked to Buffy.”

 

Joyce arched an eyebrow at him. “Anything useful on our Initiative friends?”

 

William’s eyes were glacial blue. “You might say that. We were leavin’ Lowell House last night when we had the good fortune of runnin’ into a few of them.”

 

“We?”

 

His gaze didn’t falter under her scrutiny. “Buffy was with me. I…ran into her at the party,” he said.

 

Shelving the last of the books, Joyce motioned for him to take a seat at the table while she went to lock the door and turn the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’. “I believe I’ll have a cup of tea. Can I make you anything, William?”

 

“Got anything stronger than tea?” he asked, slouching into a chair and resting his forearms on his thighs, his hands dangling between his knees.

 

She stopped her preparations to turn and stare at him. “Am I going to need it?”

 

William nodded. “You might. I know I do.”

 

Joyce frowned. William rarely drank. For him to do so at three in the afternoon meant something. She stepped into her office and took her bottle of scotch from the bottom of her desk and found two glasses. Seating herself at the table, she poured them each two fingers of liquor.

 

“Alright, let’s hear what she told you,” she ordered in a firm, no-nonsense voice.

 

And he did. He glossed over the rape, as he had promised Buffy he would, but stressed Riley Finn’s involvement in the matter.

 

“He was the one we ran into in the parking lot at Lowell House.” He leaned over the table, one hand idly turning the now empty glass in circles. His eyes were hot with anger when he lifted them to meet hers. “Joyce, in the two years I’ve known Buffy, I’ve never seen her afraid of anyone or anything, but she feared this man. She was terrified of him.”

 

The Watcher felt a wave of pity for the petite vampire. In spite of her vast knowledge of vampires and everything she had been taught Joyce found that Buffy defied logic. She didn’t fit into any of the neat cubbyholes that the watchers’ guide provided. Fortunately, neither did Joyce. While the Watcher’s Council stood firm in their belief that vampires were evil, soulless beings; incapable of the finer emotions, Joyce felt that Buffy’s very existence disproved that theory. Intensely passionate in her beliefs and loyal to a fault; her zest for life was all encompassing. She lived, loved, and laughed with the same fervent glee she expressed in her destruction of humanity. Yet as annoying and rash and impulsive as the blond vamp could be, she possessed an underlying vulnerability and a deep need to belong.

 

Lately, Buffy had become extremely protective- even possessive- of the Slayer. How much that had to do with the chip, Joyce wasn’t sure. There had always been chemistry between the two of them. She had a sneaking suspicion that Elizabeth the Bloody; Slayer of Slayers, was head over heels for William the Vampire Slayer.

 

William went on, unaware of his watcher’s musings. “She learned a helluva lot while she was there, though. Most of the commandos are also college students. She memorized names and then broke into the college computers to look up their dorm or frat house assignments. Roughly ninety percent of them are at Lowell House, so she’s fairly certain that there is some sort of entrance to the labs from that point. She’s been searchin’ for the place where she came out but hasn’t had any luck findin’ it. This is a list of names and she also drew an extremely detailed map.” He dug through his backpack and handed over the papers that Buffy had worked on while he had slept with his head pillowed in her lap.

 

Joyce hurriedly donned her reading glasses and looked them over. “These are wonderful,” she muttered. “The girl has an amazing eye for detail.”

 

A persistent knocking sounded from the door and they looked up to see Xander and Willow waiting to be let in. Joyce got up to unlock the door

 

“Joyce?” William’s voice was urgent as he laid his hand on her arm to stop her. “Please, don’t say anythin’ about what happened to Buffy in front of the others. They aren’t known for their tact and I’m afraid one of them might say somethin’ to hurt her. Unintentionally, of course.”

 

She wasn’t so sure about the unintentional part, but she let it go and gave him a reassuring smile. “You have my word, William.”

 

Willow and Xander trooped in and took their places at the long table. Joyce filled them in while William went over the list of names with Willow. Both of them had classes with most of the men on the list and they jotted down what they knew about them.

 

“Where did you get all this stuff, William?” Xander asked as he admired the carefully drawn map. “This is incredible.”

 

“From Buffy. She’s the one that drew it. Pretty cool, eh?”

 

“When did you see Buffy?” Willow tried to act nonchalant about it but her eyes sparkled with jealousy. “She’s been all avoidy lately. Not that it’s a bad thing.”

 

Her attitude angered William, but he did his best to ignore it. “I saw her last night at the party. We talked for a while and then she made the list and drew the map.”

 

They were going over the map when light footsteps pattered up the stairs from the training room. Buffy appeared, her expression becoming a little defiant when they all looked at her. “What?” she demanded. “Do I have a boogar or something?”

 

Seeing her like this made it hard to accept what she was, William thought as his eyes ran over her slight form. She wore a tight white tank top paired with worn khaki carpenters pants and white Sketchers. Her golden hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail. She looked like every other college student on earth. He was relieved to see that the wound on her shoulder was almost completely healed; a faint pinkish line the only evidence that it had even existed.

 

William felt a weightless sensation behind his breastbone when her eyes met his for a brief moment before they skittered almost shyly away from the heat in his. The hidden marks on his neck began to tingle pleasurably and he resisted the urge to reach up and stroke them.

 

“Speak of the devil and in walks his whore.”

 

Willow’s voice was harsh, and the cruelty of her words drew sharp gasps from the room’s other occupants. Xander and Joyce stared at her in disbelief, while William’s eyes hardened to blue ice. The red-head fought the urge to apologize in the face of their censure.

 

“I was never his whore; you must be thinking of Faith,” Buffy snarked, quickly masking the hurt in her eyes with indifference. She turned her back, deliberately ignoring the witch as she faced William and Joyce. “I have one more name for that list I made for you. I can’t believe I forgot this one, but it just popped into my head while I was in the shower.”

 

“Oh, to be a loufah,” Xander moaned.

 

“Xander, please,” Joyce snapped.

 

“In the shower?” William felt as juvenile as Xander, but he couldn’t get the image of her with water splashing and bubbles sliding over her pale gold skin out of his mind.

 

She gave him an exasperated glare. “Yeah, in the shower,” she said with forced patience. “I had the radio playing and this old song came on. Who sang it…Oh! It’s by Rod Stewart…Maggie May. Remember that one, Watcher? The name of the head honcho over the Initiative is Maggie. Maggie Walsh.”

 

The two glass tumblers slipped from Joyce’s suddenly nerveless hands and smashed on the floor.

 

“How clumsy of me!” Joyce exclaimed. She stooped and began to gather up the larger pieces while Xander went to find the broom in the storage room.

 

“Professor Walsh?” Willow squeaked. “She’s in charge of all those demon hunters? But, she’s one of our teachers, William.”

 

“Guess she needed a hobby or something,” Xander remarked, handing Joyce the broom and moving to stand close to Buffy. She looked at him like he’d crawled out from under a rock and couldn’t get away from him fast enough.

 

William had a mental picture of his Psych teacher. With her hard, unyielding face and cold blue eyes, it was very easy to imagine her as the leader of the Initiative. His eyes narrowed as they followed his watcher’s jerky movements as she wielded the broom and dustpan awkwardly. As he watched, Buffy knelt down and took the dustpan from Joyce’s nerveless fingers and held it in place while the glass shards were swept into it. Before Joyce could rise to her feet, the vampire laid a comforting hand on the watcher’s arm, staring intently into her eyes.

 

He was amazed by her gesture. Buffy seldom, if ever, made the first move to touch someone. It was patently obvious that her compassion was genuine. It was also clear that there was something more going on here.

 

Joyce met Buffy’s green eyes and realized the girl knew exactly why she was so upset. Somehow, she knew, but she was leaving it to Joyce to tell it her way. Feeling a powerful surge of gratitude, she returned Buffy’s gesture, squeezing her small hand tight. She straightened and gripped the back of a chair to hide her shaking hands.

 

“Margaret Walsh is my step-sister,” Joyce confessed. “I’m afraid this situation is far worse than we originally thought it to be.”

 

Willow goggled at her. “Why is that? I mean, sure she’s a harsh teacher, but…”

 

“The teaching gig is probably just a front for her, Willow,” Xander said.

 

Buffy had moved to sit on the sliding ladder in front of the book shelves. She rolled her eyes at Xander’s comment. “Uh-DUH!” she mumbled under her breath. Only William heard her and a smile quirked his mouth.

 

“Now that I know what we’re up against, it will be much easier to figure out just how the Initiative needs to be handled,” Joyce said. “Everyone sit down and we can go over what we know.”

 

Sliding down from her perch, Buffy gave a half-hearted little wave at the group then jammed her hands in her back pockets. “I’ll just get out of your hair, then.”

 

“I said ‘everyone’, Buffy. Sit down, please.” Joyce’s tone brooked no argument.

 

Xander hurriedly scooted out the chair next to his and tried a flirtatious smile. “You can sit by me.”

 

Buffy made an ‘ick’ face and took the seat beside Willow, who made a great show of moving her chair a few inches away. “Oh, like I’d bite you,” she snorted.

 

“Oh, you would!” Willow hissed, her face turning as red as her hair.

 

“Not freakin’ likely.”

 

Willow stuck her nose in the air. “I happen to be very bite-able. I’m moist AND delicious!”

 

Buffy rolled her eyes. “All right, yeah, fine. You’re a nummy treat.”

 

“And don’t you forget it!”

 

“LADIES!” Joyce thundered. William and Xander just sat back and watched the estrogen fly.

 

“SHE STARTED IT!” they yelled in unison.

 

Joyce took a deep, calming breath and closed her eyes. “Well, I’m finishing it. Enough. We have far too much to do without having to listen to the two of you constantly bickering.”

 

“I’m sorry, Joyce,” Willow muttered.

 

Buffy stared at the table. She could feel the Slayer staring at her and squirmed. “Sorry.” She pouted. Glancing up, she was rewarded by a sweet smile from William. She quickly lowered her eyes again before she smiled back.

 

An hour later the scoobies and Buffy were glassy-eyed with information saturation. Joyce grimaced when she realized she’d lost them some time ago. “Perhaps now would be a good place to stop. We can continue tomorrow…”

 

They scattered like rats from a sinking ship. Willow and Xander headed for the door and Buffy made a beeline for the stairs that led down to the workout room and the safety of the sewer tunnels.

 

William stood up. “Hey, Summers. You forgettin’ somethin’?”

 

She turned, a frown puckering her eyebrows. “Huh? Forgetting what?”

 

He walked over and stood in front of her, forcing her to look up to meet his eyes. “This,” he said, leaning down and capturing her lips in a juicy, tongue-swirling kiss. Right in front of his friends and his Watcher. When Buffy made to pull away, he pressed his hand to the back of her head to hold her in place. Her lashes fluttered closed and she leaned into him with a sigh of surrender.

 

Willow and Xander stared in shock and turned to gauge the Watcher’s reaction to this little display. Joyce tried to hide her smug smile. She loved being right.

 

Lost in their kiss, they were oblivious to Willow’s huffy departure. She was followed by a pouting Xander. Joyce wisely gathered up her notes and disappeared into her office, granting them some privacy.

 

Buffy’s eyes were dazed when he finally broke the kiss. “Why did you do that, Will?”

 

He slipped his hands into the back pockets of her khakis and pulled her tightly against him, letting her feel what the kiss had done to him. He rubbed against her and licked her neck.

 

“Not gonna hide from them, is all. If any of them have a problem with it, they can bloody well kiss my arse.” He pulled the scrunchie from her hair and ran his fingers through the tangled mass. “I’ve been shy, poufy William around them for far too long; always sucking up their comments and being Mr. Nice Guy. William would stutter and mutter about how wrong it is and about sacred duty and all that rot. It’s time they met the Slayer.”

 

She stared at his mouth and licked her lips. “And what would the Slayer say?” She asked, her voice a breathy whisper.

 

“Want.” William’s lips grazed her forehead.

 

“Take.”  He kissed her nose.

 

“Have.”  He walked her backwards into the wall, staring down at her for a beat before he covered her mouth with his in a scorching, toe-curling kiss.

 

Sliding his hands around her thighs, he urged her to lift her legs and wrap them around his waist. She moaned as he pushed between her legs and began grinding his cock against her clit through several layers of cotton.

 

A discreet cough from Joyce’s office had him lifting is head with a frustrated growl. He rested his forehead against hers, struggling to catch his breath. “Can I come by after patrol tonight?” he asked his voice raw with need.

 

“Uh huh…”

 

He laughed at her. “So articulate, Miss Summers.”

 

Buffy aimed a half-hearted swat at his head, both of them smiling when the chip didn’t fire. “Guess you were right about the ‘intent to hurt you’ thingie,” she giggled.

 

Reluctantly, he released her, letting her slide down his body on a sensual slide. “I’ll see you tonight, then?”

 

She smiled and nodded, walking backwards towards the stairs; pulling her hand from his at last before turning and bouncing down the steps.

 

William tried to wipe the idiotic grin from his face before he faced his Watcher, but judging from her raised eyebrows and annoying smirk, he failed miserably.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Willow seethed as she left Xander’s house. He had ranted and raved for almost twenty minutes. On and on about how ‘wrong’ it was; this ‘thing’ between William and Buffy. How they should stage an intervention on William’s behalf. Obviously Buffy had him under a thrall of some sort and he didn’t know his own mind.

 

She had allowed ninety percent of his bullshit to flow over her. He could talk all he wanted about Buffy being an evil, soulless killing machine, but Willow was far from stupid. He wanted in her pants just as bad as the Slayer did.

 

Images of William and the vampire writhing together tormented her as she made her way back to her dorm room. Tears welled over and streaked her cheeks. First Oz had left her to go on his stupid werewolf version of a vision quest. Now William preferred an animated corpse to her. Ain’t life grand, friends and neighbors?

 

Pausing to wipe her eyes, she looked in the big front window of the Espresso Pump. Riley Finn was easy to spot. He was sitting with Graham Miller and Forrest Gates, sucking down lattes and pelting each other with Biscotti.

 

Staring through the glass, Willow began to smile as an idea came to her. Without hesitating, she went inside and made her way to their table. She tapped Riley on the shoulder and gave him a sunny smile.

 

“We need to talk,” she said, moving a few feet away from the table so the others couldn’t overhear. Riley looked down at her and folded his arms across his chest.

 

“I can give you something that you want, but there are conditions…”

 

CHAPTER 9

Buffy was halfway to the Crawford Street sewer exit when she heard the scrape of footsteps behind her. Whoever it was, their attempts at being stealthy were a joke. She ducked behind a concrete slab and waited patiently. It didn’t take long for her tracker to appear. When she saw who Mr. Not-so-stealthy was, Buffy sighed in exasperation and skipped quietly up behind him.

 

“HEY!”

 

He leapt into the air with a shriek then whirled to face her, embarrassed at being caught out so easily. Recovering quickly, he sneered at her. “Well if it isn’t Buffy the Vampire Slayer ‘Layer’.”

 

“Ugh, that’s original. Xander, what the hell are you doing?” she snapped. “Why are you following me?”

 

For all his size, he moved fast. Buffy found herself slammed up against the wall and held in place by his body pressing against her.

 

“Well, I figure since you’re giving it up for good ‘ol Willy, why not share the wealth?” He panted in her ear, his breath thick and hot on her skin.

 

“Oh, gross! Get off me!” Buffy shuddered in revulsion. The chip was already sending out warning tingles as she struggled. Tears of frustrated rage pricked at her eyes as she tried to reason with him. “Xander, stop this. I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

He laughed. “You can’t hurt me. Chip, remember? Just relax and let the Xand-man take care of you,” he breathed cockily. “You’ll wonder what you ever saw in that little wuss.”

 

“Are you out of your mind?

 

The step he took back to pry at her closed legs was his downfall. Buffy vamped out and struck like a small viper. Sinking her tiny fangs into his shoulder, she ripped it open the same instant her knee slammed into his groin.

 

Both were instantly engulfed in pain. Buffy staggered and fell to her knees, blood streaming from her nose as she gripped her throbbing head. Xander dropped and rolled, a high-pitched gibbering noise escaping him as he ignored his shredded shoulder to cup his crushed testicles.

 

Buffy wiped her hand under her nose, wincing in pain. “Yeah…it hurts…but that doesn’t mean I won’t do my damnedest to take you out before my head explodes!” she hissed. Pushing herself to her feet, she stumbled back into the wall, fighting a wave of dizziness.

 

He tried to stand up, coughing and retching miserably. “You’re crazy!” he wheezed. He hacked again and threw up down the front of his obnoxiously loud Hawaiian shirt.

 

“And you’re pathetic,” Buffy snapped. She staggered to her feet, hissing with anger when she saw the blood smeared on her white top. She fought the urge to deal him a punishing kick while he was still down. Instead, she settled for setting him straight on a few facts.

 

“William was your best friend. Hell, he was your ONLY friend, Xander! And you threw it all away over some bubble-headed trollop who couldn’t keep her legs together. Did it make you feel all manly, Xander? Yeah? Well don’t let it go to your head, because you weren’t the only one she was fucking on the side. Angel O’Connor. Riley Finn. Even Scott Hope got in on the action. How did all those other dicks taste when you went down on her, Xander? Bet you liked that, huh?”

 

Xander flushed crimson, fighting his gorge again as her gibes sank in. He tried to block out her scathing words as she continued her rant. “I…You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He glared up at her.

 

“Vampire, Xander. I could smell her all over you. You. Mixed in with every other guy she’s been fucking. I can even give you exact dates, because I’m a resourceful vamp, ya know? Never know when the info might come in handy.”

 

His face went from red back to green and he stubbornly refused to look at her.

 

“You’re not doing this because you want me. You want what William has. You’re so jealous of him, it sickens me. Thinking you should have been the Chosen One. What a joke! On your best day, you couldn’t deal with living life as he does; night after night. Get over yourself, Xander, before you lose the best friend you ever had.”

 

Buffy wound down, but decided he needed to know one more thing. “And before you start giving Will a hard time for ‘fucking an evil, soulless demon’? Take a long, hard look at the new woman in your life. You might be not-so-pleasantly surprised.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Anyanka Jenkins? She’s a former vengeance demon. You might want to look her up in one of those nifty books the Watcher has. It should add a whole new dimension to your sex life.” She finally backed down, cradling her pounding head. “Get out of my sight. You make me sick.”

 

He finally made it to his feet. He was still bleeding from the shoulder wound, but the throbbing pain in his nuts had settled down to a steady rhumba. “Buffy, I…”

 

She held up a hand. “Apology not accepted, so don’t even go there.”

 

Xander sighed and started to turn away when he saw her head come up sharply, nostrils flaring as she tested the fetid air of the tunnel.

 

“Xander, wait. Don’t go that way,” she warned.

 

“What?” he asked. The look in her eyes frightened him. His fear kicked up a notch when her demon burst forth and her eyes glowed ferally.

 

A low growl rumbled from her while her eyes darted from side to side. Buffy suddenly shoved him, forcing her to grab her head again in pain. “We have to get out of here now, Xander. GO!” she yelled. “MOVE YOUR FAT ASS!”

 

Before he could take her urgent advice, he saw it walk around the curve of the tunnel. Tall and muscular, the demon looked almost human; except for the fact that it was green and had long spikes protruding from its thick forearms. “What in the hell is THAT?” he squeaked.

 

“That’s a Polgara demon, you no-brained, donut-sucking waste of space. It’s their mating season and it’s lookin’ for love. You need to run, and fast. It senses you’re the only male and it will want to fight you for me. Trust me; you DON’T want to know what it wants to do to you with those pretty white horn things hanging out of its arms.”

 

Xander decided to do the un-manly thing and ran, squealing like the little bitch he was.

 

Buffy groaned. “So much for knight’s in shining armor,” she muttered. “Whoa, big fella.” The Polgara caught the scent of the blood that had spilled from her nose earlier. Its head snapped up and it began to stalk her down the tunnel.

 

“God, why does this shit ALWAYS happen to me? Why did you have to smell MY blood? You could have taken off after the sweaty, fat-assed guy and I would have wished you a happy skewering, but noooooo! Ya gotta pick on the chipped but still sexy vamp girl.”

 

The Polgara advanced on her slowly, stalking its prey while a low growl rumbled from its chest. Buffy backed away as far as possible, trying to work a circle around it so she would be closer to the Crawford Street access. It made a lunge for her and she instinctively kicked out, breaking off one of the long, sword-like appendages with a snap. The demon howled in agony while she raised her hands to her head to ease the pain from the chip.

 

Only…there was no pain.

 

Puzzled, she decided to test it again, spinning into a roundhouse kick that connected with the Polgara’s chin and threw it a good fifteen feet into the crumbling clay wall.

 

Still nothing. No electricity zapping through her brain. A wide, delighted grin of pure, unadulterated joy split her face. “I can hurt a demon!” she laughed. She eyed the Polgara as it staggered towards her once more, fully recovered from its close encounter with the wall. She wasted no time in whaling on it; kicking, punching, and gouging, driving it further and further down the tunnel. “That’s right, I’m back! And I’m an ANIMAL!” she howled gleefully.

 

The Polgara was soon a bleeding mess on the ground. Buffy had a grip on its head, ready to snap its neck, when she heard footsteps. A lot of footsteps. Dropping the demons head, she bolted down the tunnel in the opposite direction. Some instinct warned her to duck into a large crack in the wall.

 

“There it is,” an unfamiliar male voice said. “Holy shit, what the hell happened to it?”

 

“Looks like someone or something beat the shit out of it, that’s for sure. No big deal. It’s still alive and one of the spikes is still attached.”

 

Buffy gasped, cowering further back into her hidey-hole. She knew THAT voice. She’d never forget it, in fact. The trembling was back in her legs and her demon flickered in and out, whining in fear. She pushed it ruthlessly back, biting at her lips until blood flowed.

 

“Well I gotta say this is by far the easiest capture we’ve ever had, boys,” Riley Finn said his voice nauseatingly cheerful. “Restrain it so we can get it back to the lab.”

 

It seemed to take them forever to leave, and she waited another ten minutes before daring to slip out of the crack. Her eyes darted around and she sniffed experimentally. Finding no sign of them, she tore off down the tunnel as fast as her shaking legs could carry her.

 

~@~@~

 

They had been sparring for quite some time and it had gradually been reduced to a wrestling match, each of them battling to see who would end up on top as the victor. William trapped her legs between his and slammed her wrists down on each side of her head. He grinned triumphantly into her disgruntled face before leaning down to capture that adorably pouty bottom lip for a lusty suck. She immediately reciprocated; the kiss becoming a lush exchange of lips and tongues. He lifted his head reluctantly, breaking the kiss to stare down into her adoring green eyes.

 

“Buffy, I love you.” He was unable to stop the words that spilled from his lips. Her eyes widened in astonishment and a look of wonder crossed her face. She was opening her mouth to reply when someone knocked on the door. Hard.

 

BANG! BANG! BANG!

 

“Who the bloody hell could that be?” William bellowed in frustration.

 

“How the hell should I know, Slayer! It’s YOUR dream!” she huffed.

 

BANG! BANG! BANG!

 

William shot up in his bed with a savage growl of irritation. He tried desperately to grasp onto the details, but the dream was already fading away from his mind. Whoever was trying to bash the door down was going to be eviscerated. He lunged off the bed and grabbed his Nikes up on the way out of his room.

 

Pounding down the stairs, he glanced over at his father. Rupert was sprawled out in his recliner with a pair of headphones on, snoring along with The Doors. William rolled his eyes and jerked open the front door.

 

Xander was raising his fist to pound on the door once more when it swung open. William took in his appearance and frowned, pulling him inside after a quick look around.

 

“What the hell happened to you?” he demanded, sitting down on the stairway to pull on his trainers.

 

“I…” Xander swallowed hard. He had come here hoping for a chance just like this. It was the perfect opportunity to drive a wedge between William and Buffy. All he had to do was tell William that Buffy had done all this to him for no reason and William would doubtless go all damage bound on her and probably stake her worthless ass. It would be the perfect revenge on the blond vampire for presuming to tell Xander what a worthless pile of steaming cow dung he really was.

 

He opened his mouth to begin spinning his web of lies when he remembered the look on Buffy’s face when she pushed him, yelling at him to get out of the tunnel. With sudden insight that was completely out of character for him, Xander realized exactly what Buffy had done. She wasn’t ‘obligated’ to save him. All she would have had to do was sit back and do…nothing. She might even have run. The demon would have come after him and…Xander thought of those long, smooth spikes and shuddered. After making him uncomfortably aware of just how pathetic his life really was, she had saved it. And he had left her there to rot.

 

“I’ll explain on the way, man. We’ve got to hurry. Buffy’s in the sewers, probably getting skewered six different ways by some demon.”

 

The words were barely out of his mouth when William leapt off the porch and took off at a dead run. Xander rolled his eyes as he took off after him at a limping jog. Damn. That slayer stamina and speed would come in handy for him right now. Not to mention the accelerated healing. Ow. Ow.

 

William didn’t bother with the ladder. He simply dropped down through the manhole that Xander had left open and pounded down the tunnel in the direction of the Magic Box. He could retrace her route from there to Crawford Street. His heart thudded painfully behind his ribs as he ran. The fear that he would be too late to help her was a huge knot in his throat.

 

He reached a slight widening in the tunnel. The faint, coppery smell of blood hung in the air and there were smears of it on the walls and floor. There was no way to tell if it was hers or not. He knelt and inspected the different footprints scattered in the dust. He found prints from Buffy’s Sketchers and some that obviously belonged to the demon Xander had mentioned, but he also found a number of deeper prints from what looked like military issue boots. They seemed to be centered around a large area of blood. He stood up, pacing back and forth.  His hand went to the marks on his neck, rubbing at them to sooth the sting that had grown sharper with each passing minute.

 

Xander came hobbling up to him, breathing like a winded horse. “Thanks for holding back so I could keep up with ya, pal,” he wheezed.

 

“What kind of demon was it?”

 

“She said it was a Polera or something like that. It had two long shiny spike things in its arms.”

 

“A Polgara?” William’s face paled. “It’s their mating season.”

 

“That’s what she said. Why she made me leave,” Xander confessed.

 

That earned him a look of scorn. “Yeah, I’m sure she really had to work hard to convince you to run, didn’t she?”

 

Xander flushed with embarrassment. “I came to get you,” he mumbled, unable to meet William’s eyes-- knowing they would be filled with contempt.

 

William took two steps and grabbed Xander by the front of his shirt, slamming him into the blood streaked wall. “I know what went on here, Xander. I know what you tried to do to her, but right now I don’t have time to deal with you. I’m going to go find her and if she has so much as a scratch on her from either you or that demon, it’s coming out of your arse, mate. Count on it.”

 

With that said he flung Xander away and set off down the tunnel, not even sparing him another glance.

 

Shuddering, Xander got to his feet and started limping back to the Magic Box. He needed an ice pack for his nuts and someone that could tell him about vengeance demons. Hopefully Joyce was still there.

 

CHAPTER 10 

Moving quickly, William reached the Crawford Street access. A small scrap of white fabric on the floor caught his attention and he scooped it up. It was one of those little hair things Buffy was forever wearing. He smiled with relief and stuffed it in his pocket before climbing the ladder.

 

He didn’t even get a chance to knock before the door was flung open. He walked in to be met with an armful of Buffy; a Buffy that kissed him like she wanted to suck the breath right out of him. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, clinging like a limpet as she smooshed her lips to his.

 

“I gotta say I was thinkin’ you’d be a little more upset, luv,” William mumbled around her greedy lips.

 

Buffy lifted her head and grinned at his bemused face. “Well, I was at first, but then the neatest thing happened!” She bounced up and down excitedly, a motion that had William’s eyes rolling up in pleasure as certain parts of her bumped certain parts of him. The belt of the terrycloth robe she wore loosened and the curves of her breasts peeked out invitingly.

 

Reaching around her, he grabbed her ass and ground up into her as he carried her over to the sofa. Dropping down on top of her, he attacked her ears and the curve of her neck.

 

“Will!” She grabbed him by the ears and pulled his face out of her neck, forcing him to look at her. Her bottom lip stuck out as she pouted up at him. “Don’t you want to know what happened?”

 

“Sorry, pet. All those little bouncies and wigglies distracted me for a minute,” he apologized. “What happened to put you in such a state?”

 

“I beat up a demon!” she giggled, bursting with obvious pride.

 

“You did? And it didn’t set off the chip?” William was suitably impressed with her revelation. Except for the Initiative, demons posed the biggest threat to her in her chipped state. That she could defend herself against them was a huge thing.

 

“Nope, not even a little tingle. God, Will, it was SUCH a rush! I’m almost sorry I didn’t get the chance to finish it off.”

 

“What happened with that, then?” he asked. His hands rested on her robe just above her breasts, sliding his fingers underneath to tease her pale gold skin.

 

Buffy pouted once more. “I was getting ready to break its neck when our favorite militant demon hunters showed up. They must have been tracking it and followed it into the sewers. Lucky for me, I was able to hide before they saw me.”

 

“Wonder why they were tracking a Polgara demon? They’re relatively harmless unless they feel threatened.”

 

“Or horny,” she deadpanned, raking her fingers through his hair to bring out the curls. “There were six of them, with Riley Finn in charge. They tied it up and took it with them. They even took the spike I broke off when I was fighting it. Why would they want that? It’s not like they’re worth anything.”

 

William frowned, deep in thought as he traced idle circles on her chest. “I don’t like it,” he finally said. “With everything you told me about their experiments on you and on different types of demons…I don’t know, Buffy. I have a really bad feeling about this.”

 

He rested his forehead against hers, staring into her eyes. “Was it bad?” he asked.

 

Buffy knew what he was asking and nodded. “Not as bad as last night, but it still wigged me a little. I’m over it now.” She found it utterly sweet and amazing that he was showing concern for her. She leaned up and kissed him. “Thanks for caring,” she whispered.

 

Staring down into her sparkling eyes, William felt a weightless sensation in the vicinity of his heart, immediately followed by a frisson of fear. Their position…even the intense emotion in her eyes, was eerily similar to his earlier dream.

 

Buffy looked up at him, a tiny frown puckering her eyebrows. She had heard his heart skip a beat and then resume its rhythm just a bit too fast. “Will, are you okay?”

 

William shook his head as if to clear it. “I…Buffy, I…”

 

He wants to end it, Buffy thought with sick certainty. Too much has happened too fast and he’s spooked. She moved quickly to cover his mouth; first with her fingers and then with her lips in a kiss of pure desperation, tears pricking at her eyes. Not yet! Please, just a little longer! she cried inside.

 

Her obvious anguish surprised him, but he responded helplessly to her demands. Small hands attacked the fastenings of his jeans as she pushed them down with her feet. In a heartbeat she had him firmly in hand, holding him in place as she arched her back, driving him inside her with a cry of pain.

 

“Buffy… Slow down, pet.” Will tried to pull back, knowing he had to be hurting her. “You’re not ready…”

 

She clutched at him mindlessly, whimpering as she fought to keep him inside; to keep him close and link him to her the only way she knew how.

 

 “BUFFY!” He grabbed her face and forced her to look at him. “STOP.” He tried to calm her, stroking her face and hair gently. “You’re making me hurt you, luv, and it doesn’t have to be this way.”

 

A sob broke from her as she buried her face in his neck. “I’m… Oh, God, I’m sorry…So sorry, Will…I ruin everything!” she whispered brokenly, burying her face in his neck.

 

William smiled into her hair. “Nothing is ruined, baby. We’re just gonna slow things down a bit, yeah? Make it good, so we can both enjoy it.” He pulled out of her, wincing as she gave a tiny yelp of pain. Rolling to his feet, he took her hands and helped her to stand; holding her steady until her legs stopped shaking.

 

Still keeping his grip on one of her hands, he took all the pillows off the sofa and threw them on the floor. Her robe was skimmed off and tossed to the side. Kneeling, he smiled up at her and pulled her down to lie on the lush oriental carpet, arranging her just as he wanted her in the nest of pillows.

 

“Comfy?’ he asked, standing above her and removing his clothes without fuss.

 

Buffy nodded uncertainly, her eyes wide and wary as she watched him undress. God, he was gorgeous. She could spend hours just watching him like this.

 

Joining her among the pillows, he bent to kiss her, taking her hands and lacing their fingers together. “Just lie back. Close your eyes and relax, because I’m going to tell you a story, okay?”

 

“A story?” She was clearly puzzled by this turn of events. “What about?”

 

“Shhh.” He placed a finger over her lips to hush her. “Humor me, luv. Please?”

 

She nodded, making a big show of getting comfortable against the pillows and releasing a deep, unnecessary breath. “Begin,” she said with a smile as she closed her eyes.

 

“Once upon a time, there was a handsome prince,” William began.

 

Leaning down, he nibbled a slow trail up her neck to her ear, his warm breath making her shiver in reaction. “Actually, he was a poncy buggar. He was forever scribbling bloody awful poetry and walking around with his head in the clouds. But he lived a double life, our prince. By day, he was meek and shy, but by night he was a valiant warrior, slaying dragons and demons and keeping his kingdom safe.”

 

William moved to the other side of her neck, dropping kisses on her closed eyelids as he did so. “He was brave and loyal and true to the cause, but because of his secret identity, he was also lonely.” He worried a soft earlobe between his teeth. “You see, our prince had been burned in love before; lost his ‘faith’ in it, so to speak. So, he was afraid to trust another with his heart.”

 

He skimmed his hand down her throat to just above her left breast, coming to a rest over her unbeating heart. She quivered the slightest bit and he raised his head to look at her face. Noting that her eyes were still tightly closed, he smiled in satisfaction. Leaning down, he nuzzled the softness of her breasts, licking and sucking in turn at the diamond-hard peaks.

 

“Time passed and he grew cocky and overconfident. There was nothing he couldn’t defeat. Until the night the golden vampire princess invaded his kingdom. She had heard the tales of the invincible warrior, and since she had already taken out two of his kind, she was prepared to make him her third.” William slid down her body until he rested between her legs. “She was brash and beautiful and untamed by any man.”

 

Buffy gasped and jumped as she felt his nose brushing against the tight curls guarding her sex. Her fingers clenched in the soft rug beneath her as he bathed her inner thighs with moist flicks of his hot tongue. All the while he continued his tale, breathing the words into her skin.

 

“The prince wanted her badly, but it seemed their fate was to destroy each other. They fought often, but neither was able to gain the upper hand. They were too evenly matched; knew the poetry of each other’s moves too well. They came to share a grudging respect for each other. Then one day something terrible happened to the vampire princess and she couldn’t fight him anymore.”

 

He felt her tense against him. Over it, my ass, he thought. He ran his hands up and down her legs soothingly. “Even though it went against her nature, she came to the prince and begged for his protection from the evil, militant demons that had hurt her. The prince agreed against his better judgment. Not because he feared that she might hurt his friends. The prince was afraid of what she could do to his heart.”

 

William lifted his eyes and found her staring at him. He refused to look away, holding her enthralled green eyes as he reached down and lightly traced her nether lips. Parting them, he found her wet warmth and swept his fingers up to circle around her clit and back down to tease her opening; up and down in a continuous, hypnotic gesture.

 

She bit her bottom lip and arched her back pleading for more; more of his touch, more of his words, more of him.

 

“All of his life the prince had been taught that vampires, especially golden vampire princess’, were evil, soulless beings. Meeting her changed everything for him, because nothing that he had ever learned applied to her. She was truly unique when compared to others of her species. She had warmth and compassion and a wonderful sense of humor, but of all her traits the one he most admired was her enormous capacity for love.” He removed his fingers and replaced them with his hot mouth, holding her down with his hands on her soft stomach when she bucked against him. He nibbled and sucked at her, sweeping his tongue down her slit to thrust inside her. Licking up her copious juices, he purred his appreciation of her flavor, the vibrations from his mouth arcing straight to her aching clit.

 

He brought her to the edge, but refused to take her over. Instead he drew back and used his fingers to tease and taunt her once more, pinching and rolling her clit as he drove her insane with need. “He found himself wondering what it would be like to love her,” he said, his voice raw from holding his own desires in check. “And he wondered if she could ever bring herself to love him in return.”

 

Buffy was teetering on the edge of an abyss, her body so sensitized that it was almost frightening. She drew in a hissing breath when she felt his fingers parting her; laying her pulsing clit bare to him, every part of her tensed in anticipation. Just when she thought she couldn’t take another second, he struck; burying his face in her, trying to devour her.

 

She came instantly, harder than she ever had before, screaming out his name in joyful abandon. Laughing and crying when the orgasm didn’t stop; it merely eased the tiniest bit and slammed into her once more. When he finally gentled his ministrations and began to ease her down from the pinnacle, she was completely limp.

 

William lifted his head, wiping her juices from his face against the softness of her thighs. He crawled up her spent body, his blue eyes shining with a predatory gleam. Lifting one dimpled knee up over his hip, he slid smoothly inside her, sheathing himself to the root and moving with long, sure strokes.

 

Her green eyes flew wide open when he entered her and she threw back her head with a harsh moan as the pressure began to build within her once more. She raised her trembling legs to his back and pulled him even deeper, crying out as he hit her sweet spot. He braced up on his hands, locking his arms as he began to circle his hips against her, the motion providing dual stimulation of that highly sensitive place inside and her throbbing clit.

 

The ripple of her inner muscles signaling her release was William’s downfall. He dropped down on her, praying that he wasn’t crushing her with his weight as he rocked against her. He could feel his body tightening with each flutter of hers around him and knew he was close.

 

“Say it,” he hissed, gritting his teeth as he fought to hold out just a little longer. “God, baby…so close. Say it, Buffy!” He kissed her almost savagely then rested his hot forehead against hers as he glared down at her with storm-tossed blue eyes. “Tell me…what you feel…”

 

“I can’t, Will!” she cried out in panic, afraid to admit it; afraid of what he made her feel.

 

“You can…Tell me, baby. Please,” he groaned. His mouth found her mark, her sire’s bite that he had mutilated with his own blunt human teeth. He clamped down on it as he pistoned in and out of her.

 

His bite sent her over the edge and she began to jerk and spasm helplessly; clamping down on his cock with her tight muscles, her long, keening wail was music to his ears as her defenses finally crumbled.

 

“Love…you! God, Will…love you so much!” she cried before sinking her fangs deep into his neck.

 

The vise of her walls closing around him combined with her admission of love was enough to drive him over, falling hard and fast as he thrust into her one last time. The sting of her fangs sliding into his neck brought sensations even more intense and he roared as he spilled inside her quivering body.

 

After licking the blood from his mark on her, he lifted his head wearily. Caressing her face, he urged her to open her heavy eyes and look at him. “I love you, Buffy,” he whispered, kissing her with aching sweetness. “Love you so bloody much.”

 

CHAPTER 11 

They slept for several hours and William woke up to find himself spooned around Buffy’s body, her curvy little backside pressed against him. She didn’t stir when he pulled his arm from around her to look at his watch. Half past eleven. He really should get up and go patrol, but it felt so good just lying with her. He buried his face in her fragrant hair and tried to will his body back to sleep.

 

The knock at the door brought Buffy to life like a kicked cobra. She crouched on her haunches staring wildly around her. Her eyes passed over him, but William didn’t think she really saw him.

 

“Buffy? Calm down, luv. Get your robe on and I’ll see who it is,” he whispered in a soothing voice. “C’mon, put your robe on.”

 

She finally seemed to snap out of her trance but there was still apprehension in her eyes as she took the garment he offered and slipped it on.

 

William found his jeans and stepped into them, buttoning them as he walked silently to the front door. An indistinct shadow loomed beyond the frosted glass. Quietly lifting the shade at the small window beside the door, he rolled his eyes. Xander stood on the porch, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

 

Deciding he could wait a few more minutes, William went back to Buffy and wrapped his arms around her. “It’s Xander. Why don’t you go upstairs and get dressed while I see what he wants?”

 

Buffy nodded, biting her lip. “There’s something I need to tell you,” she fidgeted with the belt of her robe, avoiding his eyes. “We were in-“

 

Will stopped her words with a kiss. “I know what happened, luv. Don’t get yourself all worked up about it.”

 

“He told you?”

 

He shook his head. “Didn’t have to. The sewer tunnels aren’t one of Xander’s favorite places. There could only be one reason why he would be down there with you, and I know the feeling wasn’t mutual. You can tell me everything later. Right now, all you have to worry about is getting dressed,” he assured her. “Want to patrol with me after he leaves? We’ll find some not-so-nice demons for you to mess up.”

 

Her smile was blinding. “I’d love to!”

 

Watching her run up the stairs, he made his way back over to the door and swung it open, stepping back and motioning for Xander to enter.

 

Xander took in William’s half dressed appearance and mussed hair. It wasn’t hard to guess what he and Buffy had been up to. He was amazed at the change in the blonde’s behavior. The William he knew was usually nervous and edgy, almost hyperactive in his movements. This William was loose and relaxed; his every movement smooth and almost sensual, like a sleek golden cougar.

 

He wondered if he had looked this way when Anya Jenkins had ridden him into oblivion the other night. Who was he kidding? He hadn’t even been able to walk after she had finished with him.

 

Okay, ‘not-talking-William’ was making him nervous as hell. He was just about to open his mouth to break the uncomfortable silence when something made his nose explode and he found himself lying flat on his back on the carpet. He looked up at William through a haze of pain.

 

“I take it we understand each other, Xander?” William said simply as he stood there, his loosely clenched left fist held calmly at his side.

 

“Crystal clear,” Xander snuffled, sitting up and trying to staunch the flow of blood from his offended nose. He hadn’t even seen William’s arm move.

 

“She’s mine. Plain and simple. No stupid questions, no more innuendos, and no smart-assed comments. Mine. Touch her again, even look at her funny, and I won’t pull my punch or stop with your nose next time. I swear to God I will beat you to death.”

 

Xander gingerly probed his rapidly swelling appendage. He’d pulled that punch? Christ! He felt like every bit of bone in his nose had been crushed into powder.

 

“Good. Now that we’ve settled that; what are you doing here?” William busied himself picking up all the pillows and putting them back in their places.

 

“I’m worried about Willow,” Xander said. “I’m sure you’ve noticed…” he paused, squirming inwardly.

 

“The big crush thing she’s got going on? Yeah, kinda hard not to.”

 

He looked up as Buffy came bouncing down the stairs dressed in worn hip-hugger jeans, a pale pink baby-t with ‘Bite Me’ emblazoned in darker pink glitter across her breasts, with battered trainers on her feet. She caught sight of Xander sitting on the couch with a wad of Kleenex held to his bloodied nose and paused uncertainly on the third riser from the bottom, darting a quick look at William as she gnawed her bottom lip.

 

He realized her dilemma immediately. She had no idea how he wanted her to treat to him in front of his friends. William pulled his t-shirt over his head and tugged it down as he walked over to her. From her perch she stood slightly above him and his eyes were level with her breasts. Reading the little slogan on her shirt, he smirked at her and let his eyes rest briefly on his bite mark.

 

“That an invitation, luv?” he asked, his voice low and suggestive as he dragged one finger over the exposed tops of her breasts.

 

She shivered in reaction. “Open invitation for you, babe. Anytime, anywhere.”

 

Wrapping his arms around her thighs, he picked her up and turned in a lazy circle with her. Buffy twined her arms around his neck and kissed him hungrily. Without breaking the kiss, William let her slide down his body until her feet touched the floor.

 

Xander watched with mouth agape. He had to force himself to look elsewhere as the blond couple continued their impromptu make-out session. Although he wasn’t looking, he could still hear them. William’s ‘bloody hell” and Buffy’s answering giggle brought all kinds of wildly arousing pictures to mind. He quickly snatched up a cushion and dropped it in his lap, wincing as it brushed his bruised balls.

 

Finally breaking the kiss, William took hold of her hand to lead her over to a big leather armchair. Seating himself, he pulled her down on his lap. His hand immediately went to her hair to pull out the pink scrap of fabric that held it away from her face, allowing the thick mane of gold to fall down her back.

 

“Will,” she protested. “Give that back.”

 

He shook his head and kissed her again. “Nope. You can have it back when we leave.”

 

Xander judged it safe to look their way once more and turned back around. “Leave?” he asked. “Where are you going?”

 

“Patrolling.” William arched his scarred eyebrow. “Same as every other night.”

 

“Are you sure Buffy should go?” He held up his hands to ward off the dual glares he got from the pair. “I’m just saying that, since she can’t protect herself, it might be dangerous for both of you.” Not to mention Willow would have a conniption fit.

 

Buffy laughed at the irony of his concern, causing Xander to flush with embarrassment. “Oh, that’s right.  You didn’t hang around to see the show, did you? Yours truly kicked Mr. Polgara’s ass without one flicker from the chip. I may not be able to touch humans, but I can break some demon skull.”

 

She was practically bouncing on William’s lap and he was smiling down at her. Xander felt a shudder of dread go through him.

 

No… Willow wasn’t going to like this development at all.

 

~@~@~

 

Her plans had been laid carefully, with nothing left to chance. It had been sheer torture to sit back and watch that little blond-headed imp of Satan twitch her ass under William’s nose, but she was patient and now, a week after her conversation with Riley Finn, her window of opportunity was wide open.

 

Willow smiled in triumph as Buffy came into view. She had been following the blond vamp all night, waiting for the perfect opportunity. She was hiding behind a crypt in the Crawford Street cemetery, just across the road from the mansion. The trap was set; all she had to do now was bait it.

 

Grabbing up a few handfuls of dirt, she smeared it onto her overalls and on her face, and then ran her fingers through her hair to muss it. She waited tensely until Buffy was climbing the steps to the mansion’s front porch before she ran across the street, yelling her name and waving her arms.

 

“Buffy!” she screamed. “You have to help us!”

 

Buffy whirled to face the red-head, dropping her bags on the porch as she took in the dirty face and disheveled hair. “What is it?” she asked as Willow skidded to a halt in front of her.

 

“It’s William. We were patrolling and ran into this huge demon. He’s hurt! Buffy, he needs you!” Willow cried.

 

Without hesitating for a second, Buffy took off after her. She didn’t question why the witch would come to her for help instead of William’s Watcher, all she heard was that William was hurt and needed help.

 

“Up there behind that crypt,” Willow panted. “I can’t look again; there was just so much blood!” She began to make retching noises as she sank to her knees beside a headstone.

 

Buffy flew heedlessly around the corner of the crypt and slammed into the khaki-covered chest of Riley Finn. Her eyes widened in horror as she leaped away from him, directly into the middle of a group of ten fully kitted-out Initiative soldiers.

 

She vamped instantly and growled, her glowing green eyes darting from one impassive face to the other as she frantically sought an escape route that wouldn’t leave her writhing on the ground in pain.

 

Willow’s soft laugh brought Buffy's head up. “Help, help, Buffy!” She laughed mockingly. “God, you’re such an idiot. I can’t believe you fell for it. And I didn’t even have to resort to using magic to fool you. Guess I’m a better actress than you thought, huh?”

 

Shaking off her demon, Buffy stared at her with anguished eyes. “Oh, God, Willow. You don’t realize what you’ve done,” she whispered.

 

“I know exactly what I’ve done. Did you think I would just sit idly by while William ruined his life with you? You’re an evil, blood-sucking monster! You’re beneath him,” Willow taunted. She turned to Finn. “I’ve held up my end of the bargain, now you do your part. I want her gone. Dusted.” She handed him a small paper sack. “And I want proof, so bring this back when you’re done.”

 

Riley slapped the bag out of her hand and grabbed her arm in a punishing grip. “You can watch everything we’re gonna do first hand. Dr. Walsh is gonna be thrilled. She always wanted to study a real, live witch.”

 

“What do you mean? Let me go!” Willow was horrified. She had never in her wildest dreams considered this would happen. She screamed, trying in vain to pull herself free. “We had a deal!” 

 

Cursing as her sharp nails clawed at his arm, Riley backhanding her to the ground. Buffy growled savagely when he drew his leg back to kick the other girl and flung herself between them, gasping in pain as his heavy boot plowed into her stomach instead of it’s original target; Willow’s head. She silently cursed the naïve red-head. If it weren’t for her, she would take her chances and make an attempt to escape, pain or no pain.

 

“Aww, ain’t it cute, guys? The Slayer’s hot little pet vamp is protecting her Judas,” Finn chuckled. Reaching down, he grabbed a handful of Buffy’s long hair and dragged her away from the witch, relishing her cries of pain.

 

Willow struggled to her feet, her lips already forming the words of a shielding incantation, when one of the soldiers hit her with his tazer. Her slight body fell to the ground, jerking from the electric shocks that ran through it.

 

“Willow!” Buffy screamed. She rounded on Finn. “You’ve got me, let her go!” she pleaded.

 

He gave her a slimy grin, stepping so close that his body rubbed against hers. “Yeah, baby, I’ve got you. I plan on using you to make my whole body feel good. I’m sure Willie the Wuss won’t mind sharing.” He ran a finger over her breast. “I did break you in for him, after all.”

 

Buffy shuddered in disgust at his touch and shrank away, her demon flashing in and out as she struggled for control. Enraged by her repelled expression, Finn punched her in the face. Blood flew from her nose, splattering across the side of the crypt before she lost consciousness and collapsed onto the dew-slick grass.

 

“Gather them up, boys,” Finn ordered. “I want that witch gagged. Hard telling what she could do to us if she started chanting her mojo. And full restraints on my girl, there. The man that lets her get away will be one dead soldier, got it?”

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

William was at the Magic Box looking over Buffy’s drawings of the Initiative Labs when he suddenly cried out and slapped a hand over his neck. “Bloody hell!”

 

Joyce stared at him. “William, what on earth…”

 

He leapt to his feet and began pacing nervously. “Something is wrong. Something…It’s Buffy. Something is wrong with Buffy.”

 

Stepping in front of him, Joyce slammed her hand against his chest to stop him in his tracks. “And just how do you know that Buffy is in trouble?” she asked. Her eyes narrowed with suspicion as she stared at his neck. She reached out quickly and dragged down the collar of his t-shirt, her mouth dropping open in shock as the small scars were revealed.

 

“You let her Claim you?” she breathed, clearly stunned. “You’re…mated?”

 

William flushed angrily. “I don’t need a bloody lecture from you about it, Joyce. I wanted it and it’s done. Leave it. I need to go find her.”

 

Pushing past her, he grabbed his duster from the back of his chair and swung it on as he stalked towards the door. “If Xander and Willow come by, could you have them meet me at the mansion?” he called over his shoulder.

 

“Why don’t I take my car and go find them? It’ll save time.” She was beside him, car keys in hand, meeting his surprised expression with a rueful smile. “Don’t think I’ll forget about the Claim issue. After we find her, you and I are going to have a serious talk.”

 

CHAPTER 12  

Willow had woken up in Hell and she had no one to blame for her predicament but herself.

 

It should have been so easy. Lure Buffy into the clearing and then stand back and let Riley Finn and his band of merry men take it from there. Buffy would be gone forever, leaving Willow to comfort the broken-hearted Slayer. In her fantasies, he always realized that she had been the perfect one for him all along and they lived happily ever after.

 

But no. She’d given in to the urge to gloat. To torment Buffy with the fact that she had been bested by the one person she never would have suspected of treachery.

 

If you want to dine with the Devil, bring a long spoon.

 

The old saying ran through her head. She hadn’t sat down with Satan, but Riley Finn came in a close second.

 

Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and trickled their way down onto the cot beneath her. Willow couldn’t remember ever being so afraid. She had never realized just how much she had counted on her friendship with the Slayer to protect her from the darker side of Sunnydale.

 

At first, she had stubbornly clung to the hope that William and Xander would come rushing to their rescue, but that hope was fading with each hour of confinement that passed. How could they be saved when no one knew where they were? She hadn’t confided any of her plans to anyone. The betrayal of Buffy had been her idea: an idea sparked by the sight of Riley Finn having coffee at the Espresso Pump.

 

She had plenty of time between whatever experiments Dr. Hiroto happened to dream up to contemplate her monstrous errors in judgment. Joining forces with Finn had been a monumental mistake; believing that she could do so without fear of duplicity had been the height of stupidity.

 

Wearily, she pulled herself up to sit on the edge of the cot and rested her head in her hands. Instead of running through silky red hair, her fingers touched her bare scalp. Fresh tears flooded her eyes as she recalled the look on Riley Finn’s face while Hiroto had shaved her hair off. She now looked like a bad clone of Demi Moore in that G.I. Jane movie.

 

Riley Finn was one of those people that reveled in inflicting pain and torment on those he felt weak or inferior to him. He wielded a huge amount of power within this small organization and he never hesitated to use it. Why had she never sensed that his wholesome, country boy demeanor masked a soul as black as obsidian?

 

Lifting her head, she looked across the aisle into Buffy's empty cell. She wondered again where they took the tiny blonde each time they came for her. A shudder wracked her body as Willow thought of the bruised and bloodied nude form that had lain on the floor of the other cell all night. Not a flutter of movement had disturbed the pale gold body no matter how loudly Willow had called out to her.

 

This morning Buffy had roused a bit before they came for her again. She had taken one look at Willow’s sad, bald head and began to cry. “Oh, Willow…your beautiful hair,” she had cried weakly. When the same guards came for her, those sad hazel eyes had clashed briefly with hers. The Wicca had felt her stomach churn at their completely defeated expression. If they could reduce a strong-willed creature like Buffy to such depths, what would become of her?

 

The sound of approaching footsteps had her curling back up on her cot. When they stopped in front of her cell she looked up and began to shake when Riley smiled at her from that innocent cherubs face. The doors swept open and he stepped inside, his ever present tazer in hand.

 

"Do I need to zap you again, or will you come willingly?" he asked.

 

Since her legs, back, and bottom were littered with burn marks from the tazer already, she mutely shook her head and held her hands out willingly for the plastic restraints. Once they were on, he led her from the cell and out of the Pit.

 

The hallway he pushed her down next was dark and had grey doors every few feet on both sides. Muffled cries came from behind several; cries of pain that chilled her bones. Another soldier stood outside of one and he saluted Riley when they approached him.

 

"Present and accounted for, sir," he said snappily.

 

"Any trouble?" Riley asked.

 

The Riley-clone rolled his eyes and rubbed a spreading bruise on his jaw. "Bastard’s got a mean left hook. He got in one good hit before I could zap him, but he should be coming around by now."

 

Riley chuckled and swiped a card through the lock. When the door slid open, he grabbed Willow's arm and shoved her into the darkness that was revealed. She fell hard on her bound arms with a cry of mingled pain and fear and lay there, crying brokenly as the door slammed and left her in total darkness.

 

Maggie Walsh waited patiently for Riley to make his way to the surveillance room. Her cold eyes never wavered from the monitor in front of her. Although the room was still cloaked in darkness, the enhanced night vision features of the hidden camera plainly revealed the two figures trapped inside.

 

The witch had turned out to be quite a disappointment. None of Hiroto’s tests had unearthed anything to support his claim that she harbored incredible power within her small frame. Maggie was convinced that she was what she claimed to be; a college freshman that dabbled in white magic. Her stubborn refusal to answer any questions about William Giles intrigued Maggie far more than any supernatural abilities that Willow Rosenburg might possess. 

 

Agent Finn’s revelation of Giles’ claim to being the Slayer had caused quite a stir among the upper echelon of the Initiative, especially Maggie herself. She had studied the young man surreptitiously as he napped his way through her freshman psych lectures, unable to reconcile the mythical legend of the Vampire Slayer with the shy, soft-spoken student.

 

She dismissed all thoughts of the Slayer when the monitor showed that Hostile 18 had rolled to his feet and was pacing around Rosenburg’s prone form. The male vampire had caught her interest from the first day. He had been bagged and brought in shortly after Buffy Summers, and although he wasn’t of the Aurelius line, Maggie had toyed with the idea of putting the two of them together. It would have proven interesting to watch them interact. The subject had come up since her recapture, but since Riley refused to share the female, she had decided to get some use out of the Wicca.

 

Riley marched through the door with his customary shit-eating grin firmly in place. “Everything is in order, Dr. Walsh.”

 

“Excellent. How long were you able to withhold blood from Hostile 18?”

 

“Six days today. You realize that he will probably kill her?”

 

“I’m aware of that. Sacrifices must be made for higher learning, don’t you agree, Agent Finn?” Maggie stepped close to him and ran her hand down his chest to his groin for a quick squeeze.

 

He groaned and thrust into her palm. “Absolutely, Dr. Walsh.”

 

Together they turned to face the monitor and enjoy the show.

 

~@~@~

 

"Those dirty fuckin' bastards."

 

The voice was calm yet deadly, the underlying thread of menace causing Willow to shy away from its vehemence and huddle against the door. Her eyes darted wildly around, trying to penetrate the cocoon of darkness. Something brushed past her, dragging a ragged scream from her dry throat.

 

"No need for that darlin', I’m just lookin' for a light switch," said the disembodied voice.

 

She heard a faint click and the bare bulb on the ceiling glared to life. Momentarily blinded, she hid her face in her up drawn knees.

 

"You're human."

 

Hearing soft footsteps moving towards her, she flinched closer to the door. A feather light touch brushed the top of her bare head, but Willow refused to lift her head. Her only coherent thought was of the bloody cuts and bruises that painted Buffy’s skin whenever she was brought back to her cell.

 

“What’s your name, sugar?” A hand ghosted down the back of her neck and over the back scratchy shift she wore in a gesture reminiscent of someone gentling a panicky animal. The movement was repeated several times before she lifted her head enough to allow one eye to peek out at him. The only sound in the room as her eyes met his was her ragged breathing.

 

Eyes of pure El Dorado gold framed with lush black lashes stared back at her. She found herself transfixed by their beauty. The rest of him was just as gorgeous, she discovered. Hair as black as a crow’s wing framed a face of such singular beauty that it was comparable to one of Botticelli’s angel’s. He looked to be of average height with a compact, muscular build similar to William’s.

 

“Hey, aren’t you the Slayer’s lil witchy friend?” Those odd, cat-like eyes swept from the top of her shaven head to the tips of her dirty toes. He suddenly snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “Willow…your name is Willow, right?”

 

She cast her eyes down self-consciously and nodded. “Willow Rosenburg,” she whispered.

 

 “My name’s Trey Mathis. What the hell did they do to you?”

 

His hand brushed against hers in a sympathetic gesture and that’s when she became aware of the lack of warmth in his touch. Her eyes flashed up to his face, taking in the preternatural paleness of his complexion and the total lack of breathing. She almost knocked him over in her haste to get across the room from him.

 

A sad smile crooked his mouth as he rose gracefully to his feet. “Guess my secret’s out, huh? Damn. I was hopin’ to at least get your phone number first,” he joked, his southern drawl more pronounced as he leaned back against the door and shoved his hands into his pockets.

 

“You’re a-a vampire,” Willow stammered, her eyes unwillingly drawn to his bare chest.

 

Trey’s expression of amusement intensified. “Smart lil trick, ain’t ya? I can see why the Slayer keeps you around.”

 

A loud, scratchy whine cut off her reply and they both clapped their hands over their ears in protest as they stared at the speaker mounted near the ceiling.

 

“Cut the bullshit, Rhett Butler. Your orders are to fuck her, not make friends with her.”

 

It was easy to recognize Riley Finn’s voice and his vicious words brought a cry of despair to Willow’s lips. Oh God! She thought. Not this. Not by a vampire. Even if he did look like a Gap model, the fact remained that he was an evil, soulless being. She pressed herself back against the wall and stared at him with huge, panicked eyes.

 

A thundering growl ripped from Trey’s throat as he glared up at the speaker. “And I told you to kiss my lily-white ass! I don’t take orders from you, you dumb shit-kicker!”

 

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than he was writhing on the floor, clutching his head and roaring in pain. Riley’s cruel laughter rang from the speaker.

 

“Feel that, Johnny-reb? Every time you piss me off I got a little switch here that’ll make you see things MY way, courtesy of that piece of hardware we planted in your brain.”

 

Willow watched as the vampire boosted himself up on one elbow. The pain had caused him to shift into his demonic visage and she was startled to see that it was just as attractive as his human guise.

 

“Fuck off!” Trey snarled at the ceiling.

 

Another jolt of electric current arced through him, this one lasting twice as long and leaving him with a trail of blood streaming from his nose.

 

“I can do this all day, the choice is yours,” the voice said with an evil chuckle.

 

“You can—“

 

She was on her knees beside him before he could finish the insult. “Please, just do it! Just get it over with and he’ll stop.”

 

Trey looked at her, aghast, his eyes filled with pain as more blood spilled down his face. “I’m not gonna force myself on you just so G.I. Joe can get his rocks off while him and God knows how many others are listenin’ in. I’ll dust first!” he spat.

 

“Does it have to be force?” Willow couldn’t believe she was even contemplating the possibility of having any kind of sexual relations with a vampire. Not only that, but she was trying to talk him into it. Could her life become any more surreal?

 

He shook his head. “He said fuck, not rape, but since you aren’t willin’, that’s exactly what it is. Rape.”

 

Riley must have hit the switch again because he bowed up from the floor with another bellow of agony.

 

“Oh God.” Willow was sobbing when he stilled once more. “Please, I can’t stand to see him do this to you!” she cried desperately.

 

“Willow, you don’t understand!” he insisted, his voice an intense whisper. He tried to move away from her in spite of his obvious weakness. “I ain’t had a drop of blood in over a week. If we do this I don’t know if I can keep my demon from takin’ control and drainin’ you dry.”

 

His reasoning amazed her, forcing her to rethink every previous conception of what vampires were like. In truth, he reminded her of Buffy. Maybe the little blond vamp wasn’t as unique as they had thought. Maybe it WAS possible for some vampires to experience more tender emotions?

 

So many confused thoughts and conflicting emotions were making her head hurt as badly as his must. She decided to take matters into her own hands. Well, as soon as she got her hands free she would.

 

She gave him her back and revealed her bound hands. “Can you bite through these?” she asked.

 

They cuffs were made of tough plastic, but they were no match for those razor sharp fangs. She felt a shudder of fear race through her at the ease with which they sliced through, but it was quickly overshadowed by the immense relief she felt as her hands fell free. Rubbing the pins and needles from her muscles, she turned to face Trey once more, a calculating gleam in her green eyes as she watched him shake off his demon.

 

Before he could blink she was on him, her lips seeking his in a frantic kiss and her slight weight rubbing against him.

 

Trey brought his hands up to push her away but she clung to him tenaciously, forcing her tongue past his lips to duel with his. God, she’s so WARM, he thought. So warm and oh, sweet Jesus, all that writhing around on top of him was making him hard enough to drill for diamonds. Instead of pushing her off, his hands clenched on her hips and hauled her harder against him.

 

Willow had pictured herself as a modern day Joan of Arc, sacrificing herself to keep another being from being hurt, even if said being was a vampire. All she wanted to do was get this distasteful experiment over with and go back to her cold cell. Only…this wasn’t distasteful at all. These were some of the most exciting sensations she had ever felt.

 

The sudden, sharp tang of her arousal assailed his sensitive nose, inciting him to deepen the kiss as a soft purr vibrated through his chest. A small squeak of surprise escaped her as he rolled, pinning her beneath him. The thin cotton of her panties was an insignificant barrier as he ground his denim-covered erection into her cleft. One hand left her hip to skim over her quivering stomach and down between her legs, sliding beneath the material to work unbearable magic between her slick folds.

 

She arched against his hand with a mewl of delight, her own hands finding the fastenings of his jeans and ripping them open. Shoving them down over his hips, she took him in a firm grip and guided him towards her entrance.

 

The sound of rending fabric was loud in the room, followed by Willow’s gasping sigh and Trey’s ragged groan, muffled against each other’s mouths as he slid inside her scalding heat.

 

Her nails dug into the tight muscles of his bottom as she matched him thrust for thrust, her inner walls already contracting with the beginnings of her orgasm. She shivered as his mouth left hers and trailed down her throat, licking and biting a path along her jugular. There was no room for fear or misgivings, only the swirling vortex of dark desire that swelled within her as she felt the ridges on his forehead brush against the soft skin of her neck.

 

A growl of satisfaction rumbled in his throat as she tilted her head, baring her throat to him. Looking into her slumberous green eyes, he saw acceptance, reassurance, and…trust. The last humbled him beyond measure and gave him the strength he needed to control his demons screaming bloodlust. Slowly, almost reverently, Trey bent his head and sank his fangs into the pale, unblemished skin.

 

The slight sting as he bit down was eclipsed by such mind-numbing pleasure that she thought for a moment that she was going to black out. Her climax swept over her, tearing a breathless scream from her lips.

 

His answering roar of release was smothered against her flesh. The sensation of his cum filling her as his mouth pulled her essence from her was divine; every tug at the bite sending her spiraling into another orgasm until she was crying from the intensity of it.

 

Trey fell weakly against her as he carefully withdrew his fangs and sealed the wounds with his tongue. “I’m sorry if I hurt ya, darlin’,” he murmured, dropping a kiss on her shoulder before lifting his head to meet her eyes.

 

Her only reply was a sated smile as she curled against his chest, drifting off to sleep as she listened to the soothing vibration of his purring.

 

**Warning!!** The second half of this chapter is quite gruesomely graphic and contains torture, mutilation, and character death. You have been warned. 

CHAPTER 13 

He was beyond frustrated.

 

Three hours in the wilderness with Xander Harris tended to do that to a person.

 

“Is that a snake?”

 

“It’s a vine, you git. Get off me!”

 

“You know what likes canyons like this? Cougars. Cougars just love to lie on ledges and be all…cougar-y.”

 

“D’you see any cougars, Xand? Trust me, if there were cougars, your girlish shrieks over that herd of rabid chipmunks scared them away.”

 

“What was that? What was that noise? Oh God, it’s a coyote, I just know it! A big, ugly coyote with a Xander-craving stomach.”

 

“There are no bloody coyotes out here, Xander. They all moved to the suburbs so they could be closer to L.A.”

 

A few minutes of precious silence, and then, “Do deer bite?”

 

William skidded to a halt and turned on his friend, struggling to control his rising blood pressure. “Harris, so help me GOD, if you don’t stop bein’ such a fuckin’ pansy-arse about this, I’ll roll you in chocolate, tie you to a tree, and let Bambi lick you to death!”

 

Xander gave him a wounded look. “Jeez, Will. I can’t help it if I’ve never been out of the city before. The only thing I know about nature is from what I’ve seen on Animal Planet. And that trip to the zoo.”

 

“Before you even ask, there are no fucking hyenas within a ten thousand mile radius. Now please, don’t make me kill you and blame it on the wild dingoes.”

 

Tootsie-Roll brown eyes flew wide. “There are dingoes?”

 

Seconds before William’s hands could tighten around Xander’s neck, a voice of utter calm and reason spoke from behind them, “Yeah, Xander. Remember? ‘The dingoes ate my baby’?”

 

“Oz!”

 

The smaller man suffered through Xander’s suffocating hug and offered his hand to Will. “So much for hiding away to get in touch with my inner werewolf. How did you find me? Slayer dream?”

 

William grinned. “Nah. Post office stamp from the last letter you sent Willow.”

 

Oz shook his head and grinned, motioning for them to follow him down a narrow path that cut through the canyon wall. “Mind the bats,” he cautioned.

 

“Bats?!”

 

Xander was a blur as he swept past them, waving his arms frantically over his head.

 

“There’s a low-hanging branch at the end of the path. Ten bucks says he knocks himself out.”

 

“You’re on.”

 

They ambled along, waiting patiently. Presently they heard a sickening thud and the crash of Xander’s body falling into the brush. Without a word, William reached for his wallet and laid a crisp bill in the werewolf’s hand.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“Don’t mention it. The silence is worth far more than a ten-spot.”

 

As they passed the unconscious brunette, each reached down and grabbed a leg to drag him the short distance to Oz’s tiny cabin. After settling him on the couch with a frozen bag of tater tots over his bruised forehead, they hunkered down at the rickety kitchen table.

 

“So, what brings the two of you out here to the back of beyond?” Oz asked, offering a beer.

 

Accepting gratefully, William downed half of it in one gulp. “I came to ask for your help. I’m still not sure why he had to tag along,” he said, motioning with his bottle at the unconsciousness that was Xander.

 

“Comic relief?” Oz deadpanned.

 

William snorted with silent laughter and scrubbed at his tired face with both hands. His entire body felt numb with weariness, but still he continued to push himself.

 

“Jeez, Will. When was the last time you slept?”

 

“For longer than an hour? Nine days ago.” He held up a restraining hand as Oz started to speak. “Let me start from the beginning.”

 

He told him, sparing no details as he related all that had transpired since Willow’s botched ‘will-it-so’ spell. Oz had the grace to look guilty over that tidbit of information, but shook his head sadly.

 

“We talked about her dabbling in magic. I told her it would end up causing trouble for her or those close to her.”

 

William nodded his agreement and continued, telling his friend of his own break-up with Harmony, Willow’s crush, and his more recent relationship with Buffy.

 

“You? And Buffy?” Oz grinned. “Sweet! Always knew there was more than the desire to kill between the two of you.” He tapped the tip of his snub nose. “It never lies,” he insisted with a wink.

 

“Now comes the part where I need your help. Actually, Buffy and Willow need your help. A little over a week ago they both disappeared. Just vanished into thin air. Xander and I found signs of a struggle in the cemetery off of Crawford Street. Buffy’s blood was all over the place, and we found one of Willow’s shoes. We also found this.”

 

He pulled the black Balaclava from his pocket, gratified when Oz shrank back from it with an almost feral snarl.

 

“Riley Finn.”

 

William nodded, his face carefully expressionless. “The Initiative. They have them both. Have had them for nine days now.”

 

“I hate to point out the obvious here, but why haven’t you used the claim?” Oz gestured with his head to indicate the scars visible on William’s neck.

 

Rubbing the marks, a bitter laugh escaped him. “Don’t think I haven’t tried. She’s closed me out. Only thing I can think of is that she’s trying to protect me from them. We know who’s in charge and Buffy drew a map of the general layout, but finding the actual entrance to the place has been a problem. We tried following Professor Walsh, but somehow she manages to slip past us every time.”

 

“Professor Walsh? Psychology Professor Walsh?”

 

“The same. She heads up the whole thing according to Buffy. And Finn is the little GI Joe in charge of her goon squad. He’s the one that tortured Buffy when she was in the first time. God, the things he did to her. When I think of what he might be doing to her now…”

 

The raw pain in the blonde’s expression brought a commiserating squeeze on the shoulder from the werewolf. William tried to force a smile but it died on his lips. Any form of levity seemed sacrilegious while Buffy and Willow were obviously suffering.

 

“That’s why I came to you. You said it yourself…” He mimicked Oz’s earlier gesture and tapped the end of his nose. “It never lies. You know Willow’s scent. Hopefully there is still something lingering even after all this time.”

 

Oz focused his attention on peeling the label from his beer bottle. He was quiet for so long that William felt a stir of fear that his pleas would be ignored. Finally, the smaller man lifted pain-filled eyes. “I’ll help. Even if I can’t be with Willow, I still love her. Maybe this is my chance to make up for some of the pain I caused her by leaving.”

 

William’s heartfelt thanks were drowned out by an overly dramatic groan of pain from the couch, followed by a resounding crash as Xander fell to the floor in a tangle of wildly flailing arms and legs. He flopped back and cradled his head in his hands.

 

“Will? Oz? Oh God, my head.”

 

“I suppose a convenient case of incurable amnesia was just too much to hope for,” William sighed.

 

~@~@~

 

Buffy lay completely still, childishly hoping that if she didn’t move, he would go away.

 

He never did, of course. He was always right at the edge of her consciousness. Taunting. Tormenting. Hurting.

 

She didn’t know which was worse; the times when he took great pleasure in violating her body, or when he spent hours dreaming up new methods of torture that made her scream in agony.

 

Today he was more interested in torture than rape.

 

Cuts that barely had time to heal. Broken bones that never really mended. Burns that were seared over and over again into her soft, pale flesh.

 

And the bloodlust that raged constantly.

 

It was getting harder and harder to distance her mind from the pain and degradation he inflicted on her; harder yet to resist the urge to open the claim and reach out to William. Every time her demon clamored forth, demanding she open the claim and seek the protection of her mate, she ruthlessly pushed it back. She was determined to get herself and Willow out of this mess without endangering William in any way.

 

“Wakey wakey, my little Queen of the Damned,” Riley singsonged, running his hand up the inside of her naked thigh.

 

She flinched away from his touch, tugging at the straps that bound her spread legs to the table. A small sound of disgust burned from her dry throat as the hand continued to trail up her belly and breasts before tickling her under the chin. She growled and snapped viciously at his fingers before falling back with a whimper of pain.

 

“Tsk tsk! Why do you do that when you know all you’re gonna get is an achey head?” he chuckled.

 

“Why am I not surprised to learn that you were actually paying attention during the lectures on torture?” Maggie Walsh smiled fondly as she watched him working the tiny blond over.

 

He spared her a gleeful smile. “I slept through those stupid lectures. This is raw talent at work.”

 

“Are you still withholding blood?”

 

Riley nodded, flipping his fingers against the stake that he had imbedded less than an inch from Buffy’s heart, causing it to wiggle perilously.  Rapidly growing bored with this diversion; he carelessly yanked it out and flung it away, smiling as she tried to smother her agonized shriek.

 

Maggie grimaced. Even as hardened as she was, the condition of the female vampire sickened her. Agent Finn had outdone himself. Except for her pretty face, there wasn’t an inch of her that didn’t have some sort of damage.

 

“I need to make an appearance on campus, but we have a meeting in two hours to discuss our plans for you. I can’t stress enough how important this is, so please make sure you’re on time,” she ordered, her usual clipped tone showing none of the revulsion she felt as she watched him trail his fingers through the blood on the Hostiles chest.

 

“I’ll be there!” Riley yelled impatiently. “Now, will you please go? It’s not any fun once she passes out.”

 

His unexpected rages and surges of supernatural strength were becoming even more unstable, Maggie noted mentally. She hurried from the room, deciding that it wouldn’t hurt to look into how much of the demon serum he was injecting himself with. She hated the uneasy feeling she had that things were escalating out of her control.

 

Riley heard the scurry of her footsteps and subsequent slam of the door, and rolled his eyes theatrically. Stupid woman was either prattling on about something or trying to get him to fuck her. As if he would prefer her over this pretty little doll.

 

Peeling off his clothing, he left it scattered carelessly across the floor. He boosted himself up on the table and crawled up her small, battered body, making sure he rubbed every bit of her naked skin with his.

 

A constant, whining growl rolled from her throat at his touch. She hadn’t slipped out of her demon’s visage for several days and she never spoke a word, no matter what he did to her. The only sounds she made were the purely animalistic growls, grunts, and snarls of her demon.

 

He continued to rub against her, slipping easily between her bound legs and grinding himself into her. He laughed at her as she struggled futilely against him.

 

“Ah-ah-ah,” he chided. “Remember what I told you? Fight me and your little friend dies.”

 

Buffy turned her head from the rush of his fetid breath on her face, tears of misery and pain and rage rolling down her temples into her tangled hair.

 

“I kinda get the impression that she likes it here, though. At least she did last night. Seems she has a little ‘Night of the Living Dead’ fetish like your Slayer friend,” Riley chuckled.

 

In spite of her resolve to show no reaction to his barbs, her eyes flashed with an expression of disbelief.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, didn’t I tell you? We put her in with a vamp last night. She was all over him; especially when he bit her. They were still going at it when I left,” he said, running his tongue over her chest and leaving a slimy trail of saliva.

 

“Hopefully, she’ll enjoy what Dr. Walsh has planned for her tonight. I know I’ll be sorry to miss it, but I gotta go out and bag myself a Vampire Slayer tonight. Can’t wait to see what kind of tests Maggie has lined up for him. She can be even more inventive than me.”

 

Riley was too busy gloating to realize that by threatening the Slayer, he had just signed his death warrant. He never noticed the drastic change in Buffy’s demeanor as she allowed the cold, calculating demon to take over.

 

It’s about fucking time! It rejoiced gleefully.

 

Don’t blow this. We only have one VERY slim chance to make this work, Buffy chided.

 

Don’t worry about me, 'Elizabeth', the demon spat out. I know exactly what I need to do to protect OUR mate. Sit back, shut up, and watch what a master can do.

 

“You’re really going to take out the Slayer?” her voice was raspy from disuse, but the anticipatory inflection was unmistakable. She shook off her demon and arched her body into his. “Mmm, I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.”

 

His head shot up and the dumbfounded expression he wore was almost comical. “Huh?”

 

“I’ve been trying for years to kill that bastard. I almost had him before you idiots chipped me.”

 

“You want him dead? I thought he was your boyfriend or something like that,” Riley sputtered.

 

“That was all an act, you dumbass. Hello? I couldn’t best him in a fight even before the chip. No, I’ve discovered that force won’t get it done. I had to work from the inside. To kill this guy, I had to love him.”

 

She squeezed her thighs around him, almost laughing at his lustful moans. His ego was so enormous that it never occurred to him that she might be faking. Lifting her head, she ran her tongue around his ear and bit the lobe hard.

 

“If you think my leg muscles are amazing, imagine what I can do with my mouth,” she purred.

 

For obvious fangy reasons, this was something he hadn’t dared to attempt, but the erotic image of her kneeling in subjugation at his feet while she worshipped him with her lips and tongue was almost enough to make him come on the spot. He practically jumped off of her and began to tear at the straps that held her down, cursing his clumsiness when they didn’t loosen fast enough.

 

When the last strap fell free, Buffy sat up and allowed her slumberous eyes to sweep him from head to toe. Her small pink tongue slid out to wet her lips as she looked pointedly at his groin.

 

“Well, come on. What’re you waiting for?” Finn urged.

 

Buffy laid the back of one wrist delicately to her forehead and wavered slightly. “I’m just so weak and hungry. I…I don’t know if I have the strength.”

 

What the hell? This is NOT a good idea! Buffy cried.

 

Back off, blondie, I know what I’m doing! the demon hissed.

 

You’re pushing too hard. There’s no way he’s gonna…

 

“Can I trust you to drink from me?” he asked, unable to mask his eagerness. “It’ll take a while for them to bring anything and I don’t want to wait.”

 

“Of course you can, sugar.” She smiled sweetly as she took hold of his arm and turned it, baring the inner crease of his elbow. “It’s the least I can do since you’re taking care of my little Slayer problem. Close your eyes,” she ordered, running her tongue over his skin.

 

He obediently slammed his eyes shut, a goofy grin plastered on his face.

 

Men! Buffy thought scornfully as she shifted back into game face and bared her fangs. Always so predictable.

 

The chip didn’t even give a warning twinge as she bit down and took what he offered freely. He grimaced, an expression of complete ecstasy on his face as he began to thrust his hips in time with each pull she took of his blood.

 

She reached down and took him in hand, pumping and squeezing him hard as she withdrew her fangs and melted back into her human features. He made as if to kiss her, but she quickly dodged him and dropped to her knees in front of him. Forcing herself not to gag, she took him in her mouth. Mercifully, it didn’t take long for him to begin jerking in the throes of his orgasm. Buffy waited until she tasted the first drops on her tongue before she struck.

 

Sliding her mouth to the root of his penis, she vamped and bit down savagely, his agonized shrieks feeding the demon inside her. The chip was firing like mad and blood poured from her nose, but she clamped down and shook her head like a terrier with a rat, shredding his flesh with her sharp teeth.

 

Riley fell backwards and sprawled on the floor. Blood flew and his hands batted weakly at her head as he tried to dislodge her. Following him down, Buffy finally released what was left of him, pausing for a moment to admire the destruction her fangs had wrought. Finn’s eyes were frantic as he stared up at the maniacal, blood-drenched grin of his executioner.

 

“Bet that stings, huh?” Buffy drawled, tilting her head to study his weakly panting form. “Funny how something that small can hurt so much, huh? But don’t worry; it won’t hurt for much longer. I should let you live the rest of your miserable existence with a pureed dick, but something tells me it still wouldn’t be enough to make you leave me and mine alone. I’m not going to spend another second being afraid of you, Finn.”

 

She leaned over him, ignoring his fading protests as she sank her fangs into his femoral artery. It didn’t take long to drain him since she had taken so much from his arm earlier. In spite of the blinding pain in her head, she smiled in satisfaction as his heart came to a stop.

 

Now that it was over, she wanted to curl up on the floor and give in to the pain, but she knew she had to hurry and get out before someone came to check on Finn. Snatching up his t-shirt and boxers, she yanked them on before shoving the table into the corner under the air vent. In seconds she was up in the ducts and working her way in the direction of the containment cells, her already healing body thrumming with energy from Riley Finn’s genetically enhanced blood. 

 

CHAPTER 14

She peered out through the slats of the grate that hid her from their view. Buffy knew these people were far from stupid. They knew from her previous escape that she had utilized their ventilation system and that would be the first place they searched once they discovered Riley Finn’s mutilated corpse.

 

Just thinking about her revenge brought a surge of intense satisfaction. The sensation of her teeth tearing through flesh after so long was almost a chemically induced high, and a soft, purring growl vibrated through her chest as she relished the memory of his screams. Even after dropping down into a convenient bathroom for a quick wash, the rank smell of his blood still clung to her skin.

 

The room she was looking down on now was a kitchen of sorts. The glass-fronted refrigerators lining the walls were filled with packets of blood. Human blood. Someone had even considerately labeled them with the type. How handy, Buffy thought with a feral grin.

 

Another cabinet with a huge lock held a lethal looking selection of drugs. A pair of lab-coated technicians was injecting various syringes into a number of blood bags laid out on the table. Buffy seethed with impatience as she waited for the techs to finish their job and leave. She desperately needed more blood to finish the healing process that Riley’s enhanced blood had started. Whatever demon steroid he had been injecting himself with, the effects didn’t last long and she was already feeling the pain of her injuries.

 

While she waited on the techs, she rested her head on her drawn up knees. Wrapping her arms around herself, she rocked gently back and forth in an attempt to soothe the clamoring demon. It was kicking up a hell of a fuss to be unleashed on the unsuspecting humans, but she knew that losing control now wouldn’t help her or Willow.

 

A familiar scent coming up through the vent brought Buffy’s head up with a snarl and she scooted over to have a look down below her.

 

Maggie Walsh ordered the lackeys from the room. As soon as they had collected their work and fled, she made her way to the drug cabinet and began to rifle through the contents. She was so intent on what she was looking for she didn’t notice the ceiling vent pop open and a figure drop silently to the floor behind her.

 

Finding what she was seeking, Walsh grunted in satisfaction and slipped three vials into the pocket of her white lab coat. She was locking the cabinet back up when she suddenly became aware that she was being watched. Spinning around with a gasp, she was horrified by the sight of a very pissed off Buffy Summers in full vamp-face.

 

“H-How did you get loose?” she demanded, hating the fact that her voice quavered in spite of her best efforts. The vampire was between her and the door. She was obviously weakened from her wounds, but even so she was far stronger than Maggie could ever hope to be. What could Riley be thinking to release her like this?

 

Oh, God.

 

“Riley?”

 

Buffy bared her teeth in a gruesome facsimile of a smile. “Merrily roasting in Hell by now, I imagine. He should get along well there. Torture is the ‘in’ thing, or so I hear.”

 

“You killed him?” Maggie asked tightly. There had to be a way out of here with her throat intact. She eyed Buffy nervously, grimacing as she watched her take several blood packs from the fridge and drain them in quick succession.

 

“Yup.” Buffy tossed the empty packets to the floor. She found a small cloth sack and slipped some extra blood packets inside. “Well, first I bit his miserable little dick off. Then I drained him. By the way, those are some kick-ass drugs you’ve been feeding your boys, Doc. Make me feel all tingly, ya know?”

 

Maggie blanched. The girl spoke so casually of mutilating Finn. She had no doubt that her death would be just as painful.

 

Green eyes glowing with a feral light, Buffy was careful to keep herself between the older woman and the door. “I’m a veal kinda girl, myself. You’re too old to eat,” she said conversationally. “But not to kill.”

 

Moving quickly, she had Maggie by the throat and slammed her into the glass and metal cabinets. Buffy was so hyped up by whatever had been in Finn’s blood that she didn’t even acknowledge the chip firing as she manhandled Walsh.

 

“Lucky for you, I have to keep you alive just an eency, weency bit longer. You’re gonna help me and my redheaded friend get out of this hellhole. And, hey! Bonus. Do it without trying to fuck me over, and I might decide to be a little benevolent and let you live. Cross me and I’ll take great pleasure in ripping your over-inflated head off. Got me?”

 

Gasping for much needed oxygen, Maggie nodded. She was counting on her men to step in as soon as they saw her with the escaped vampire. She only hoped they would be able to rescue her before the girl made good on her threat.

 

“Great! Now, first you’re gonna boost up one of these blood bags with some of that serum you hid in your pocket, and then we’re going Willow hunting.” Her eyes narrowed threateningly. “And don’t even try to overdose me with that shit. I saw how much the tech drew up earlier.”

 

Once she had dispensed the drug, Maggie watched in horror as the vampire dropped the remaining vials to the floor and crushed them beneath her bare heel.

 

Expecting to be led towards the door, she gave a shout of pain when Buffy yanked her over to stand beneath the open air vent.

 

“Up ya go, Mags,” she instructed cheerfully. “Watch that first step, it’s a real doozy.”

 

“You can’t honestly expect me to…”

 

“Oh, but I do. I’m not stupid. If I walk into that holding area with you, your boys will be all over me. We’re doing this my way, so hop to it.”

 

Maggie eyed the vent and then the little vampire.

 

Buffy flashed her some fang. “Are you a gambling woman, Doc?”

 

Shaking her head, Maggie struggled up onto the table and from there into the vent, with Buffy right behind her.

 

~@~@~

 

Standing in the dusky twilight, William clenched his jaw and stared across the street at the Crawford Mansion.

 

He should have been with her that night. Instead of listening to her when she insisted he stay with Joyce and do some research, he should have left with her. They still might have run into the soldiers, but he would have been there to protect her from them.

 

They had yet to find a plausible reason for Willow being taken as well. She made no secret of the fact that she hated Buffy, lately even refusing outright to be in the same room with the vampire. What possible reason could she have had to be with Buffy on the night she was taken?

 

William was so lost in his thoughts that Oz had to speak twice before he got his attention.

 

“So, this is where they were grabbed?” he asked.

 

“No. A bit further on. Just past those shrubs. Three crypts come together and make an enclosure. I’m thinkin’ that’s how they cornered her. Once they trapped them in there, they didn’t have a chance.” William said his voice thick with frustrated anger.

 

“Let’s check it out.”

 

They walked quietly, both relieved that Xander had passed out in the back of car, providing a much needed respite from his nattering. When they reached the area, Oz prowled the perimeter, a soft growl rumbling through his chest.

 

“I can still taste their fear after all this time,” he muttered lifting his nose and sniffing the air. William’s eyes widened as the smaller man shook his head, allowing his face to partially transform into his were-visage. His eyes yellowed, his ears lifted and rose to sharp points, and his nose and mouth elongated.

 

Seeing Will’s start of surprise, Oz managed to look sheepish in spite of the sharp canines and amber eyes. “Sorry,” he said around a mouthful of fangs. “It’s a little talent I’ve been perfecting. It heightens the senses more this way.”

 

“Do what you gotta do, mate,” William encouraged. “Warn a fellow next time, though.”

 

Oz paced the area, moving further out with each pass. “Willow. Her scent changes radically from here,” he moved to the opening in the shrubs. “To this point here,” he commented.

 

“Meaning what?”

 

“Not liking the vibes, man,” was all Oz would say for the moment. They could discuss his theory later.

 

He suddenly stopped, nose twitching as he faced west. “I got it. We ready?” he asked tensely.

 

“Let’s go, before Xander wakes up and slows us down.”

 

William was grateful for his enhanced speed and stamina as Oz completed his transformation into the wolf and took off with his nose to the ground. They traveled for roughly three miles before they neared a copse of trees.

 

Oz nearly smashed his head in as he came up against the huge grey boulder that marked the end of their hunt. Quickly shaking off the wolf, he began to sniff around the rock.

 

“Hidden entrance, Will; look for a trigger of some sort,” he muttered.

 

They dropped to their hands and knees, scrounging through the thick undergrowth. William had to hastily suppress a shout of triumph when he found the tiny green light glowing under a clump of decaying leaves. Beside it was a slightly larger black button. When he warily pushed it, the face of the rock opened to reveal a sterile-looking white elevator.

 

“Jackpot!” Oz grinned. His grin quickly turned into a look of stunned surprise when the Slayer stepped inside. “What the hell? Will, no! Use your damned head, man. If the elevator is up here, that means THEY are out here somewhere. If they come back and find it has been taken down below, the game is up.”

 

“We have to know where it opens up at down there, Oz. We’ll be going in blind otherwise and I’d really rather not do that. If they come back…fuck, I don’t know! Distract them, or something.”

 

Oz had a mental picture of himself running before a pack of baying mutant soldiers with big guns. “Cool, I’m bait,” he quipped sarcastically.

 

Will grinned. With a smart-assed salute, he hit the button inside and the doors swished closed.

 

Once he was alone, the cocky smile vanished and lines of fatigue and tension bracketed his eyes and mouth. The ride down was sickeningly fast and his stomach lurched in spite of its hollow state.

 

When it thudded to a halt he barely had the presence of mind to hide off to the side of the swiftly opening doors. Holding in on the button to keep the doors open, he peered cautiously around the edge.

 

It’s fucking huge! That was his first thought. How something this big had been constructed without the knowledge of the residents of Sunnydale was a mystery. His next concern was how in the world he would ever find Buffy and Willow in such a vast space.

 

He took in as many details of the immediate area as he could from this vantage point. The temptation to slip out and take a better look was strong, but he knew he was endangering the life of a good friend if he stayed any longer. He had no doubt that Oz would make good on his biting threat and he had no desire to find out if he looked better in fur than he did in leather. With a sigh of resignation and a whispered promise for Buffy that he would return soon, he closed the door and hit the button to return to the surface.

 

All was quiet when the doors slid open when he reached topside.

 

Too quiet.

 

The sound of voices raised in fear and ripping growls came from just over the next rise. Without a thought to his own safety, William took off at a dead run in their direction.

 

Two humans dressed in army green had Oz cornered in a small grouping of boulders. The werewolf was braced for attack, snarling and snapping at them viciously.

 

With a blood-curdling roar of pent-up rage, William leapt into the fray. The soldiers never knew what hit them. Slipping easily back into his human guise, Oz sat back and watched as the Slayer quickly incapacitated the frightened duo. It was over in less than a minute, the men lying unconscious at their feet.

 

Oz nudged one of them with a sneakered foot. “So,” he deadpanned. “I’d say they’re about our size, Will. How do you think I’ll look in baby-shit green?” The smaller man was already relieving the commandos of the handcuffs at their belts and trussing them up.

 

Realizing where he was going with this, William smiled tiredly. “You want to guard them while I go get the car?”

 

Moonlight glinted on the pearly edge of a fang as Will looked into the eyes of a predator.

 

“Right then.  Taking that as a yes.”  And he ran as fast as his legs could carry him, praying to a God that had been lax in its duties lately that Xan was a really heavy sleeper.

 

He had some damsels to save.

 

Chapter 15

 

Maggie Walsh was completely unnerved.

 

They were resting before heading off down another of the interminable tunnels that ran across the ceiling of the Initiative. She was huddled on one side while the blond vampiress sat with her back propped against the thin, sheet metal wall across from her.

 

Buffy had already drained several of the bags of human blood she had taken from the fridge in the lab, saving the genetically altered pouch for last. She was sipping slowly from it now, her oddly beautiful green eyes shining like jewels in the faint light as she stared at her hostage.

 

Walsh watched in amazement as the creature healed right before her eyes. Not completely—Riley had done a pretty thorough job on her, after all—but soon all that remained were the more serious of the cuts, burns, and bruises.

 

Draining the drugged bag, Buffy tossed it aside and sat back to savor the rush that swept through her. The heightening of her senses was incredible. Her already enhanced hearing was so in tune with her surroundings that she could hear the human’s muscles tense beneath her skin.

 

“Where were you people in the sixties?” she muttered with a smirk. “Coulda made a fortune off of this shit back then.”

 

“I was at Harvard in the sixties,” Maggie informed her stiffly. “I was thirteen at the time.”

 

“Oh, goody, we’re gonna converse!” Buffy snickered. “So, you were a child prodigy. Guess back then you weren’t quite the dedicated destructor of sentient beings that you are today, huh? Probably hadn’t realized your full potential yet.”

 

“A vampire killed my parents,” the woman spat. “I’ve always known the path my life would take!”

 

“Too bad he didn’t suck ‘em dry before you were spawned. My life would be a lot simpler.” Buffy yawned in an ostentatious display of boredom. A sly smile tickled her lips as her demon relished the waves of hate and frustration wafting from Walsh.

 

“I was second only to one in my graduating class,” Maggie informed her pompously. “The government was eager to utilize my skills as a--”

 

“Skills, schmillz,” Buffy cut her off. “We all know who you were scooped by.  Right, Maggie? You got tapped by a second rate demon CIA and little Joycie got packed off to the prestigious Watcher’s Council. Denied again, huh? Sucks to be you.”

 

Her vitriolic comments were simple guesswork, but Buffy could tell she’d struck a nerve.

 

“What’s the matter, Maggie, you gonna cry?” she sneered. “Aww, you are!”

 

Walsh glared. “Stop it!”

 

“Oh, all right, but only because you’re boring and I can’t stand listening to you snivel like a damned baby.” Buffy sniffed at the change in the air and pointed down the tunnel that branched off to the left. “Slight change of plans. Down there. Move.”

 

“But that one leads to the labs.”

 

Buffy just smiled.

 

 

~*~*~

 

In spite of the debilitating chip, the retrieval team had to hit the over-protective vampire with the tazers countless times before he finally dropped, enabling them to drag a screaming Willow from his side. It had been at least twelve hours since she had been returned- kicking and thrashing- to her cell. From there she had watched with tear-filled eyes, waiting and hoping desperately for some sign of him being taken into one of the containment cells.

 

After an hour with no sign of Trey, Willow slumped to the floor and sobbed brokenly. She was haunted by her last sight of him, lying so still with blood trickling from his ears and nose. He’d been hurt trying to protect her, becoming yet another casualty in her twisted vendetta against Buffy.

 

Buffy…

 

The cell across from hers was still ominously empty. Willow curled into herself and gave in to her despair.

 

 

~*~*~

 

Xander slouched petulantly in his chair. “Why do I have to be the one to stay behind while Will and Oz get to dress up in the cool army gear and play the hero’s?” he demanded of Joyce.

 

“Xander, we’ve been over this countless times. William and Oz are going to have to move fast and you’ll only get in the way.” Gritting her teeth, Joyce struggled for patience. She was beginning to wish she had let William stuff the brunette in a handy closet like he’d wanted to.

 

“I have experience with the Army!” the young man sulked. At her look of disbelief, he slumped further down. “Well, I do!”

 

The Watcher finally lost her temper. “You were turned into a soldier for three hours one Halloween night. I’d hardly say that qualifies you as experienced!”

 

 

~*~*~

 

Junior Holloway had nurtured big dreams when he joined the Initiative two years ago. The pay had been a substantial incentive and he’d envisioned himself moving quickly through the ranks until he enjoyed one of the loftier positions with the likes of Riley Finn and his cronies, Forrest and Graham.

 

Instead, his embarrassing test scores- both academic and physical fitness- had condemned him to serving his country in what he considered to be the most demeaning capacity. Armed with a mop and bucket, Junior spent his days cleaning up after the creatures Finn and his men brought in for the scientists to experiment on.

 

After being called to the carpet and humiliated on several occasions by the great Maggie Walsh herself, Junior nursed a fearsome grudge against their illustrious leader. Stupid bitch! Didn’t she realize how hard Chaos demon slime was to get out of a carpet? And what the hell had she been doing with said demon in her quarters anyway? He shuddered at the thought.

 

So, when he saw Maggie Walsh being led into one of the surgeries by that pretty little vamp that Finn was so keen on, Junior stifled a grin and continued to push his mop back and forth like the good little soldier he was. He told himself he hadn’t seen Walsh glaring at him with a pleading expression, silently urging him to alert someone to her situation.

 

Nope. Junior Holloway hadn’t seen a thing.

 

 

~*~*~

 

Buffy manufactured a garrote out of some very thin wire and a pen from Walsh’s lab coat. Twisting it around the older woman’s throat, she forced Maggie to kneel beside the metal table while she herself stretched out on its cool surface.

 

The horrified expression on the Oriental professor’s face was priceless. Dr. Hiroto had protested, of course, but the sight of his superior’s blood trickling down her neck as the thin wire cut into her skin changed his mind. The vampire’s threat was clear- make one false move and Professor Walsh would be instantly and efficiently decapitated.

 

“You just watch those slippy fingers, Doc.” Buffy’s green eyes sparkled with good humor as she stared up at the agitated man. “Once the chip is out and I’m back on my feet, I’ll let your precious Maggie go.”

 

Maggie bit her lip against the fiery pain at her throat. “Do as she says, Hiroto. With or without the chip, she’ll never make it out of here. We can always put it back when she is captured,” she assured him arrogantly.

 

Buffy giggled and tightened her grip, her small nose twitching at the sour smell of Walsh’s blood. She would keep her word and let Maggie go once it was done.

 

Nothing was said about draining her first.

 

Chapter 16 

“What are you two doing here? This is a restricted area!” The scrawny little lab technician drew himself up and tried to look authoritative. “I’m going to have to ask to see your ID’s.”

 

William and Oz froze in their tracks and turned to face their newest threat. This was the third time they had been stopped since coming in through the hidden entrance. While William fumbled in the pockets of his borrowed fatigues, Oz calmly reached out and pinched the distracted tech in the soft tissues of his neck. The tech went down like a stone.

 

“You know, you’re really gonna have to teach me how to do that, mate,” William muttered quietly, leery of drawing more attention to their presence.

 

Oz quirked a smile and raised his hand, fingers parted in the age-old Vulcan symbol. “Live long and prosper, Jim.” Will snickered softly in appreciation.

 

They came out of the tunnel and onto a catwalk that overlooked the main floor of the complex. For the first time, Oz’s reaction was slightly less than laid back.

 

“My God,” he murmured. “You said it was big. You told me, but you never said it was huge!”

 

William rolled his eyes. “Let’s go,” he urged.

 

They headed for the nearest stairway and began to descend. About halfway down they had to pass three soldiers tromping upwards wearing uniforms identical to theirs. As they elbowed their way through, William was stunned when Oz suddenly let loose with a low but vicious growl.

 

“What the fuck?”  he hissed.

 

“Willow,” Oz ground out, his eyes flashing with the opalescent sheen of the wolf. “All three of them smell like Willow, and she’s terrified.”

 

“Can you track her?”

 

The shorter man lifted his head, nostrils flaring. “Already am.”

 

It was hard to remain unobtrusive while moving at such a clip, but Oz only had one thought; get to the woman he would always consider his mate. Fortunately, no one was paying too much attention to them down here. They all seemed pretty worked up about something. Letting Oz go ahead a few paces, William paused to eavesdrop on one particularly large group.

 

“Finn is dead, and we have to assume that Professor Walsh is, too,” a tall, beefy looking officer said. He looked more than a little twitchy around the eyes. “We have no reason to believe that this hostile isn’t following the same route as her earlier escape. If she is, we can corner her when she comes out of the air ducts and take her out there.”

 

One of the commandos close to Will spoke up. “Is it true that she, uh…She, uh...you know…bithisthingoff?” he rushed out. Every man standing there flinched and fought the urge to grab themselves.

 

The squad leader called them all to order. “We don’t know if the chip has stopped functioning or not, but from what was done to Finn, I’d have to say; yes, it has. Do not attempt to take her out on your own. She might look small and defenseless, but she is a vicious animal. Call immediately for back-up. That is all.”

 

The soldiers quickly began to disperse and William felt a surge of elation. It was Buffy. It had to be. Somehow she had taken that wanker Finn down and escaped into the ventilation system again.

 

His heart was thundering and he had to fight back the urge to follow the disappearing soldiers. He had to find Oz first and help him get Willow out of here if possible.

 

Cursing, he rushed after his friend.

 

~*~*~

 

Buffy sat up and prodded cautiously at the back of her head. “Wow, that was fast. Now to see if you really took it out, or if I have to rip your lady-boss’s head off. C’mere, Doc.”

 

Mincing forward, Hiroto gave Walsh an apologetic glance. Before he could say a word, Buffy popped him in the nose. Her only reaction as he slid to the floor in a daze was a hoot of triumph.

 

“Yeah! Oh, my God, this is so fantastic!” She laughed gleefully in Walsh’s face. Even the massive headache she had couldn’t stem her joy at finally being free of her electronic leash.

 

Maggie flinched away as the garrote Buffy still held cut into her flesh. “You might as well kill me now,” she hissed. “You’ll never make it out of here, you realize that don’t you?”

 

Buffy shrugged nonchalantly. “Did before.”

 

In spite of her predicament, the good doctor smiled. “Pure luck. My men have their orders to destroy you on sight. They won’t fail me this time.”

 

“Please!” Buffy scoffed. “I out-smarted them all when I escaped the last time. Finn was the best you had, and he’s just a little bit dead right now.” She took an enormous amount of pleasure in throwing that fact in the other woman’s face. “They’re all probably out there chasing their own asses around trying to find you. Getting caught is the least of my worries.”

 

“I don’t think it’s my men you have to worry about, is it, Hostile?” Walsh insinuated slyly. For once Finn’s obsession with the little bitch would pay off.

 

Buffy narrowed her eyes threateningly. “What are you babbling about now?” Dread caused her belly to cramp in a sickening fashion.

 

“Sure, you might make it out of here, but you’ll only make it so far. You’ll run right back to your Slayer boyfriend, and he’s going to be waiting for you with open arms...until he finds out you no longer have that chip.” She smiled maliciously as she continued, “What do you think he’ll do then, Hostile?”

 

Nothing of what she was feeling showed on her face, but inside Buffy was a roiling mass of gut-wrenching fear. At the time she had been too hyped up at the thought of actually getting the chip out to think of the possible ramifications.

 

Of course the demon rejoiced; it was free to indulge once again in its true nature, to hunt once more. To wallow again in the blood of its prey, blood that wasn’t flat and tasteless, but properly seasoned with the spicy tang of terror that it had reveled in for over a hundred years.

 

It eyed the scrawny neck of its captive, enthralled by the thin trail of blood that wended its way down from the wound.

 

‘Do it,’ the demon hissed.

 

Another droplet welled up and began to slide down, holding her in its hypnotic thrall.

 

‘Do it!’ it insisted, oozing with confidence that its force of will would win out. 'Look at it. Smell it. You know you want it.'

 

It would be easy. Oh, so very easy to answer the call of crimson sustenance that had been so long denied. But the softer side, the side that housed the last vestiges of the Elizabeth she had been, the side that had dared to fall in love with the slayer of her kind, surged forth.

 

“No.”

 

It took every ounce of control that she possessed to push the demon back down, but it finally subsided with a petulant snarl.

 

Buffy battled the sting of tears. She knew in her heart that once her secret was out, it was over between them. There was no way she could go back to the way she was before, but William would never trust her to abstain. Trust for him was the small plastic chip that was no longer nestled in her head, and now that it was gone there was only one alternative.

 

Having made her decision, Buffy undid the wire and let the woman slump down into a chair. Walsh eyed her with something akin to amazement as she began tearing a sheet and binding her to the chair with the long strips.

 

“What? What are you doing?” she asked in confusion.

 

“Buying myself some time.” Smiling sadly, Buffy tied off the last strip and stepped back.

 

“But…you aren’t going to kill me?” Walsh stammered as the chair she was bound to was dragged into a supply closet.

 

Buffy stared down at her, hanging on to her self-control by sheer strength of will.

 

“As much as it kills me to admit it, you’re right. If I had taken a few minutes to think about my actions, I probably wouldn’t have done it. But it’s gone now and there’s nothing I can do about it.” Her resigned sigh had more than a quiver of regret. She busied herself with tying up the still unconscious Dr. Hiroto. “The only thing I can do now is make sure he never has to make the decision to take me out. I love him too much for that.”

 

Walsh made a face of pure disgust. “Love? You’re a demon, you’re incapable of—”

 

The slamming of the door cut off her diatribe as Buffy left the lab and made her way through the maze of hallways to the main floor.

 

Uncaring of the utter chaos that reigned around her, she found the nearest stairway to the upper level and began to climb. Bitter tears streaked her face and the occasional sob broke free, but still she climbed.

 

On the main catwalk, she suddenly froze. As she glanced down into the heaving mass of humans and demons below, both hands found and gripped the handrail with enough force to bend the steel.

 

William.

 

He was here. He and Oz were supporting a practically lifeless Willow between them while a dark-haired vamp in hospital scrubs cleared a path for them.

 

As if sensing her presence, Will looked up. Their eyes met; hers wet with tears, his wide with shocked amazement.

 

‘Buffy!’

 

She swore she could hear the jubilation in his voice as he called her name. She was just as certain that she heard the final crack as her heart broke and bled.

 

For one last time, Buffy opened herself up to him and sent every ounce of love she felt for him through the claim. She nearly buckled from the onslaught as he projected his feelings back to her.

 

Refusing to look away, she shook her head sadly and mouthed ‘goodbye’ to him. His fear and disbelief were palpable even across the distance between them. He shook his head vehemently and tried to shrug off Willow’s clinging arms.

 

‘No! Buffy, wait!’

 

Nearly blinded by her tears, she blew him a final kiss. And in the midst of all the confusion, she walked away.

 

Chapter 17 

Willow lay listlessly on her bed. After only two days of nearly suffocating concern, her parents had reverted back to their usual laissez-faire attitude towards her well-being. Her mother was back in her LA office, while her father was somewhere in the middle of the Pacific en route to Japan. They hadn’t the faintest inkling of how to help their wounded daughter heal. Not that she held it against them. It wasn’t their fault that they had a briefcase where their hearts should be, and besides; how could they help her, really?

 

Her physical injuries were healing, but it would be a long time before the mental scars faded. Her friends had been wonderfully supportive and made sure to stop by at least once a day. Xander brought her a sweet little stuffed monkey, Joyce made sure she had her favorite chocolate chip cookies, and Oz just sat and held her hand while she cried. Only one was conspicuously absent.

 

William.

 

Not that she blamed him. She didn’t deserve to be forgiven. If their positions were reversed, she doubted she would be so forgiving either. Because of her petty jealousies, she had irreparably damaged their friendship.

 

She had to swallow hard to dislodge the knot of tears that clogged her throat, because in a way, their positions had been reversed.

 

Trey.

 

She had a vague memory of him fighting alongside William to get them out of the Initiative. Once they were out, there was a brief, bloody spat between him and Oz over who would be the one to carry her. William has stepped in at that point. Dragging the combatants apart, he’d left Oz to carry Willow while he dragged Trey off to the side for a little chat. She remembered staring into his anguished eyes over Oz’s shoulder, an endless moment of silent communion before the world faded to black.

 

Silent tears of regret rolled down her face, dripping off her trembling chin to wet the stuffed monkey’s fur. There was more than a passing temptation to resort to magic; to make some attempt to right the shambles her life had become. The notion was ruthlessly squashed. Magic was what had gotten her into this mess. Buffy had been right that day in the cave. Magic always had consequences.

 

Curling up on her side, she thought about Buffy; wondered where she had run off to. Xander had been full of the details, prattling endlessly about how the blonde vampire had managed to get her chip out and was no doubt lurking in the shadows, just waiting for the perfect moment to swoop in and rip all their throats out.

 

Willow silently lauded Buffy’s decision. Xander truly had no clue. He hadn’t been there to see Buffy fight- in spite of the chip and against incredible odds- to protect a girl who had betrayed her for the flimsiest of reasons.

 

All because she was William’s friend.

 

She was interrupted from her musings by a light tap on her door. Thinking it was the maid back to pester her about eating, she called out a slightly testy, “come in!” without bothering to turn over.

 

“I can come back later if you’re tired.”

 

Her head whipped around, eyes widening with shock to see William standing hesitantly in the doorway. She was once again battling tears as she sat up hastily. “No! Come in, Will, please,” she begged.

 

He looked awful. Dark circles ringed his tired eyes and his cheekbones were even more prominent than usual. William silently approached the bed and sank down wearily beside her. His whole demeanor screamed defeat, and it tore her heart out to see him this way.

 

This was all her fault and it was up to her to put it right.

 

If William had chosen that moment to look at her, he would have been more than a little alarmed to see Willow wearing her famous ‘resolve’ face. Instead, he kept his eyes on the hands clenched in his lap and began to speak.

 

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around,” he muttered. “It’s…I’ve been…”

 

“Looking for Buffy?” Willow supplied helpfully. She reached out and tentatively brushed his fist with trembling fingers. “No sign of her?”

 

“None. It’s like she disappeared off the face of the earth.” Will heaved a great, gusty sigh. “The claim…I can’t feel her anymore.”

 

The muscles in his jaw stood out dramatically as he clenched his teeth, obviously mistaking her silence for censure. “I suppose you’re thinking the same as Xander, yeah? That she’s just waiting for her chance to kill us all? Bloody pillock! He was just fine with it when--”

 

“When he thought she was toothless?” Willow interrupted his rant. “Will, Xander is a big ol’ fraidy cat where Buffy is concerned. I mean she did knock him unconscious and kidnap us. Although, I have forgiven her for the whole bottle in the face thing and the ‘I’m gonna eat you!’ thing and I’m babbling so I’m just gonna shut up now, okay?”

 

Her fluttery, Willow-esque behavior teased a reluctant smile from him. “God knows how many times the chit has kicked him in the balls,” he added with a short bark of laughter.

 

Willow nodded her enthusiastic agreement with a giggle of her own. “I think he walks with a permanent limp now because of that.”

 

Their shared laughter wound down to an uncomfortable silence. Will leapt to his feet and began to pace a path between the French doors and her bed. She watched him pause in front of the glass doors and then make several more dizzying laps before reaching out to snag his arm in passing.

 

‘Sit down, Will,” she urged. To her surprise he complied, slumping down on the bed once more.

 

“So, what’s the verdict, Rosenburg?” He was back to avoiding her eyes. “If- no, when- I find Buffy and bring her back, are you gonna keep givin’ us grief?”

 

Willow gave him a sad, quirky smile, her green eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “I hardly think that I’m in the position to be so judgmental anymore, do you?”

 

He frowned. ‘Bit different, don’t you think? You wer--”

 

“A completely willing participant,” she cut him off. “There was no rape, Will. He was gentle and considerate and…” She shivered, losing herself in remembered ecstasy. “Majestic,” she whispered.

 

William raised an eyebrow. “Majestic, huh?” he prodded. “Majestic.”

 

She shook herself, dragging herself back to the present with obvious effort. “Huh? Oh, yeah. Majestic.” She frowned ferociously. “Are you making fun of me, William?”

 

“Nope!” He stood up, holding up his hands in defense. “Just makin’ sure of things.”

 

To her amazement, he walked back over to the French doors and pulled them open dramatically before letting out a piercing whistle. When there was no response to his summons, he glanced back at her and rolled his eyes before stepping just outside. She could hear him talking to someone, but couldn’t make sense of the angry whispers.

 

“William! What are you doing? If the neighbors see you, I’ll never hear the end of it from my parents!” she hissed. “Get in here!”

 

She was just getting out of her bed to investigate when she heard William curse and say, ‘you heard her, Mr. Majestic, get your bloody arse in there!’, followed by a muffled thump and an indignant shout of pain before a dark-haired figure came flying through the doors and sprawled face down on her floor.

 

“Trey?” Willow was aghast. She reached up to rub her eyes and then looked again. He rolled over on his back and propped himself up on his elbows with a sheepish smile.

 

“Hey, Willow. How ya been, sugar?”

 

That voice. That oh-so-sexy voice that echoed with the faintest vestiges of mint juleps and mimosas. It was really him. He laid there, a hint of fearful insecurity in his golden, cat-like eyes, looking rumpled and sexy and yummy enough to eat…

 

And she was wearing the ugliest flannel nightgown ever made paired with fuzzy, neon green bed socks.

 

Willow shrieked and scrambled back into bed, diving under the shelter of the quilt where she could seethe in private. How dare William do this to her! She looked like crap! Stupid man!

 

Hands were pulling at the blankets over her head and she batted at them ineffectually. “Damn you, William!” She could hear his snickers and it only increased her ire. “Don’t think I won’t get even with you for this!” she ranted.

 

She lost the battle for the blankets and gulped as they were whipped completely off the bed to reveal her huddled form. She squinched her eyes shut and covered her face with her hands, her body stiff as a board as she lay there.

 

Cool fingers brushed over her still obscenely short hair and then trailed down over her flushed pink cheek with infinite gentleness. “Willow?” he cajoled sweetly. “Please, darlin’, look at me.”

 

Finally giving in to the inevitable, she moved her hands and opened her eyes. They stared at each other in silence for one breathless moment before she gave an inarticulate cry and flung herself into his arms.

 

Both were oblivious as William let himself out of the room, a sad smile on his face. 

 

Now, if only he could find Buffy.

 

~*~*~

 

Underneath Sunnydale, the initiative was almost back to normal operations. Or what passed for normal, anyway.

 

Hiroto grimaced as a group of soldiers heaved their latest acquisition up on the steel table. As far as he was concerned, his transfer papers couldn’t go through fast enough. Walsh’s endless ranting over the vampire that got away was beginning to wear on even the sturdiest of nerves. The troops were out in force every night searching for her, but so far they’d had no luck. Hiroto was glad. One encounter with that vicious little minx was more than enough.

 

The smell of the unconscious demon was atrocious. He pulled up his mask to block some of the stench and set to work, wondering how best to cut through the thick, bony plates that covered the beast. Perhaps an acetylene torch, he mused.

 

Junior Holloway was minding his own business, mindlessly swishing his wet mop over the endless miles of concrete flooring. He hated almost every aspect of his job, but swabbing down the labs was the worst. The only redeeming aspect was what he learned about the beasts they brought in to experiment on. He was idly watching Hiroto work when he saw him pick up a cutting torch and try to light it.

 

“Uh…doc?” Junior said hesitantly. “You might not wanna--”

 

“Please, go away,” Hiroto told him in a lofty tone of voice. The torch flickered but didn’t ignite. He cursed it quietly and tried again. And again.

 

His mop handle hit the floor with a crash and Junior was high-tailing it out of the labs, his feet barely touching the floor in his haste. He barreled up the stairs to the upper level, straining desperately to get as far away from the labs as possible.

 

Junior knew from his eavesdropping that this particular demon’s defensive weapon was a pungent gas similar to methane that it secreted when threatened. A highly flammable gas. And Hiroto was lighting an acetylene torch to cut with…

 

!!KABOOM!!

 

The explosion knocked him right out of his army-issue boots and sent him flying out the tunnel used by the Initiative’s carpool. He pin-wheeled his arms wildly, screaming as he flew through the air and landed in a tangle of scrubby shrubbery. He lay there, stunned as more explosions rocked the earth beneath him and smoke and flames belched from the cave.

 

He staggered to his feet, making a hideous face as he realized that he’d shit himself out of sheer fright. Junior didn’t give a rat’s ass about his soiled trousers, though. He could only stand there and gape as the once powerful government agency imploded.

 

God! he thought. Could anyone live through that? All those lab technicians and surgeons, his fellow soldiers and Professor Walsh. He was sure he could hear their terrified screams above the roar of the fire and the rumble and screech of collapsing metal grid-work.

 

Junior plopped down on the ground, completely oblivious to his squishy, smelly pants as he sat dumbly and watched the Initiative burn.

 

Chapter 18 

William pulled into the parking spot closest to the Hyperion and killed the engine. His set, indifferent expression never faltered as he stared up at the imposing pile of bricks that Faith had acquired and now used as a base of operations for her private investigations agency.

 

If someone had told him six months ago that he would be coming here for any other reason but Faith, he would have laughed in their face. He had wallowed for so long in the wake of Faith’s defection from his life that he truly hadn’t seen an end to the torment in sight.

 

Until Buffy.

 

Faith was his last resort. If she didn’t know where her grand-childe was hiding, then no one would. Exactly how he was going to approach the former love of his life about the matter was anyone’s guess. Faith had never made a secret of her feelings for the little blonde pain in her ass, and Will had no reason to believe that she’d changed her mind in the past few months.

 

Might as well get it over with. He got out of the car and bounded up onto the sidewalk. He was halfway to the doors when he slammed to a stop. What the… Yes, there it was again; the faintest whisper across the back of his neck. His heart leapt as he whirled around, eyes wild with hope as he scanned the dimly lit street.

 

Nothing.

 

Damn. He wanted to feel her presence so badly that now he was starting to imagine things. With one last look, he turned around and pushed his way through the glass doors.

 

A small shadow detached itself from those around her and moved out of the alley. Sad green eyes watched as he entered the building before turning to slip away into the darkness.

 

Some things just never changed.

 

~*~*~

 

Roughly an hour later he was back out on the sidewalk, shoulders slumped in defeat.

 

She’d laughed at first, refusing to believe him. He’d had to resort to showing her Buffy’s marks on his neck to prove it.

 

Then she got mad and flat out refused to lend a hand in searching for her errant grand-childe.

 

“I leave so you can have a normal life and you shack up with that little bitch?” she’d raged. “You better hope you find her first, Will, because if I find her, I’m gonna do what I should have done the day she crawled out of her grave.”

 

William shook his head with a bitter smile. Typical Faith. She didn’t want him, but that didn’t mean anyone else could have him, especially if it was Buffy.

 

Heaving a dejected sigh, he started towards his car. He might as well head back to Sunnydale and start all over. Maybe Willy the Snitch had heard something. Even if he hadn’t, at least Will could get piss drunk and work out some of his frustrations by knocking the slimy little toad around.

 

He was getting ready to slide into the car when he heard a faint, faraway scream. His senses started going haywire and he slammed the door closed and took off across the street and into a dank alley. Another scream, this one sounding a little closer. The distinct sounds of fighting made his blood pump harder, tension and need slowing his pace.

 

‘I’m gonna feel awful stupid if this is just a couple of drunks fighting over a hooker,’ Will thought with a grimace. ‘This is L.A, after all. Fighting doesn’t always equal vampires here.’

 

But he knew before he reached them that it was in fact vampires. The tingle from earlier was a maddening itchy crawl up and down his spine. There were three of them, and they seemed to be fighting over a cowering old woman clutching at a yapping dog, her groceries scattered all round her.

 

“Look, guys.” A light feminine voice carried over the animalistic grunts of the two hulking males. “Just because you’re dead doesn’t mean you have to smell like it, ya know? ‘Cause, damn! You both reek!”

 

Will froze, waiting in breathless anticipation as a tiny blonde whirlwind landed a vicious kick to the groin of one of her opponents. He went down with a garbled scream.

 

“I’m gonna bathe in your blood, little girl!” his partner growled, lunging for her with fangs bared.

 

“At least you’d be bathing,” Buffy quipped as she shoved the stake she held into his chest. A look of stunned surprise twisted his deformed face comically before he exploded into a shower of ash.

 

He watched her from the shadows as she limped over to the first vampire and cut off his screams with a careless thrust of her stake. She was obviously hurt, her left arm dangled uselessly while the other cradled her ribs. She made her way over to the old woman and knelt down beside her. Will saw her smile as she reached out to fondle the little dog’s ears.

 

“W-what were those…those things?” The old woman quavered as Buffy helped her to her feet and then bent to pick up her spilled food.

 

“Vampires,” Buffy informed her tersely. “And yes, they do exist. Probably the only thing that saved you was that cross you’re wearing.” She indicated the ornate cross with a wave of her hand.

 

The old woman reached up with a gnarled hand and fondled her crucifix. “A-are you…one of them?”

 

“Yeah.” Stuffing the last of the groceries into the carrier bag, Buffy stood awkwardly to hand it over. “Don’t worry, though,” she said with a faint smile, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m kind of a vegetarian.”

 

A soft titter of laughter greeted her little joke. “Well, you’re certainly my heroine! Please, tell me what can I do to thank you, dear?”

 

Buffy shook her head and stepped away briskly. “Nothing. Just promise me you won’t take the shortcut home from now on. And make sure you stay in the light. Oh! and keep that cross on if you don’t wanna be vamp-chow.”

 

She was regarded from suspiciously bright eyes. “What is your name, honey? I’d like to know it so I can mention you in my prayers tonight.”

 

William saw the look of awe on Buffy’s face and felt a suspicious prickle behind his eyes. Yeah, this was the ravenous creature that featured nightly in Xander Harris’ nightmares. This was the monster that he vehemently maintained was leaving a bloody swathe through the countryside. A soulless demon that had just saved the life of an old woman and grew flustered when she was thanked with the promise of nightly prayers.

 

Their conversation finished, Buffy stood quietly and watched the woman totter off, scolding her little dog to keep up with her. She waited until they were out of sight before she spoke.

 

“You could have helped, you know,” she said softly, refusing to turn and face him. “Those vamps were majorly stupid, but they were strong.”

 

Stepping into the glow of the security light, Will stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on the heels of his trainers. “Came in on the tail end, luv. You made them dusty before I could make my grand entrance.”

 

He watched as she walked over to the nearest building and almost nonchalantly slammed her shoulder into it, biting back a scream of pain when the arm popped back into place. He winced in sympathy. “Jesus, Buffy!”

 

She ignored him. Still favoring her right leg, she made her way over and squatted painfully beside a small backpack lying by the fence. She came up with a fresh stake in her hand and lobbed it carelessly at him.

 

“There ya go,” she told him, smirking as he caught it without even looking at it. “Freshly whittled with my own two little hands. I realize you obviously have one tucked away somewhere, but I’d prefer one that hasn’t been used on someone else.”

 

Will broke away from the challenging green eyes and looked down. He curled his fingers around the smooth wood, testing its weight in his fist and admiring the glossy finish. When he glanced back up at her, he saw that she had closed her eyes and held her arms out to her sides, offering him a perfect target.

 

He approached her slowly, raising the stake and resting the tip lightly above her left breast. He pressed down lightly, noting her flinch as he did so. Easing up, he trailed the tip down over the slope of her breast and slowly circled her distended nipple where it poked through the soft material of her t-shirt; his eyes never leaving her set and determined face.

 

Buffy was shivering, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, battling the sudden rush of arousal as he gently teased the tip of her breast. “Please, Will, just get it over with,” she begged in a broken little voice.

 

“Open your eyes and look at me,” he demanded, his voice harsher than he had intended. When she complied, they stared at each other in a wordless battle of wills until William let lose with a guttural moan of frustration and smashed his lips down on hers, kissing her with savage intent.

 

The stake clattered forgotten to the ground.

 

For one heart-stopping moment she surrendered, wilting against him in an unconscious reenactment of every Hollywood love story ever to appear on the silver screen. She moaned; the sound lost in the warm mouth that plundered hers. She’d missed this- missed him so much that she ached with it. It would be so easy to give in, to forget the extremely valid reasons behind why she’d walked away that day. Reason returned all too quickly, though, and she shoved him away with a snarl.

 

“Stop it!” she snapped. “You’re supposed to be killing me, not sticking your tongue down my throat!

 

“But you like my tongue,” he taunted, poking it out and wiggling it at her for emphasis.

 

His refusal to take her seriously infuriated her further. She scooped up the stake and thrust it towards him. “Dammit, quit fooling around and do your fucking job, Slayer!”

 

“Okay, okay. Calm down.” He held out his hand, waiting until the last second and snatching it back before she could lay it in his palm. “Answer me one question, though, will you, pet?”

 

Her sigh was fraught with impatience. “What?”

 

“Why?”

 

“Why what?”

 

“Why am I supposed to dust you?”

 

Steam was practically rolling from her ears. She glared at him, wishing she could rip that sweet little smile off his face. “Because that’s what you came here for?” she ground out, speaking slowly so he wouldn’t misunderstand her.

 

“Funny, I thought I came here to take you home,” he stated, looking adorably perplexed.

 

Buffy raked her fingers through her hair and let out a tortured scream of frustration. “God! There’s no talking to you!”

 

He promptly dropped the cutesy pose and gifted her with his most glacial stare. “Obviously not, since you left me without a word of explanation.”

 

She shrugged. “I did what I thought was right.”

 

“Right for who? Me…or you?”

 

“You think I wanted to leave?” Buffy demanded. “You think it was easy for me to just walk away? I don’t have the chip anymore, Will. I can kill humans again.”

 

William prowled towards her, stalking her backwards until she came up against the building behind her. Buffy’s eyes flickered nervously, avoiding his as he braced his hands on the wall and leaned down until his lips brushed her ear.

 

“And how many have you killed so far, Buffy? Ball park figure? Including that little old woman you risked your life for tonight.”

 

“I-” She lifted her hands to push him away, but her deceitful fingers had ideas of their own and reveled in the feel of him, stroking unconsciously over the taut muscles hidden by his shirt.

 

“How many?” he murmured softly, finding the twisted scar on her neck where he’d bitten her during their first time together. He toyed with it, running his tongue over the shining white lines before drawing the skin between his teeth and biting down gently.

 

Buffy moaned, her head falling to the side to encourage his play. She vaguely remembered him asking her something and struggled to make sense of it. “Hmm? Oh!” she gasped. “None, but why should you take my word for it?”

 

Will raised his head, his expression deadly serious as he stared down at her. “Because I believe in you, Buffy.”

 

The rush of tears was instantaneous as she read the truth of his bald statement in his eyes.

 

“Maybe you believe in me.” Her chin quivered. “But what about your precious friends? And Joyce? Don’t try to tell me they haven’t been screaming for my dust since they found out.”

 

“Well, you know Xander has. Not gonna lie to you about that. He’s practically shitting a ring around himself. Joyce? She pretty much agrees with me. And Willow… Well, believe it or not, Willow has her own fangy friend to worry about.”

 

Buffy couldn’t hide her surprise at that news. “So, Willow has succumbed to the lure of the vamp side, huh? Will wonders never cease,” she marveled with more than a trace of her old sarcasm. “Joyce is cool with it, though?” The Watcher’s opinion mattered most to her, since she was the biggest influence in William’s life.

 

“Yup. Well, you’re still gonna get the ‘hurt him and I’ll stake you’ speech, of course, but the only one you need to worry about winning over is Xander.”

 

“Like I care what puffy-boy thinks!” she scoffed. “He needs to be afraid of me, because now I can kick him in the balls without my brains dribbling out my ears.”

 

William winced playfully. “Ow. You know, I’d feel sorry for him if I didn’t think he deserved it.” His hands were creeping stealthily up from her waist, tunneling under her t-shirt. “But, enough about my friends. Are we good? No more stupid doubts and running away because you think it’s ‘right’ for me? Coz I gotta tell ya, luv, it’s gettin’ redundant.”

 

“Didn’t stop you from running to her the second you hit town,” Buffy pouted, making one last half-hearted attempt to push his wandering hands away.

 

He looked inordinately pleased with himself. “I knew that was you!” he crowed. “Thought I felt you before I went inside, but figured I was imagining things.” His grin quickly changed to an indignant scowl. “And the only reason I went there was to look for you. Not to see her.”

 

“Well, you reek of her! All I can smell is that cheap Designer Imposter’s perfume she drowns herself in,” Buffy growled.

 

Will stepped away from her with a leer. “Can’t help it if I’m irresistible, can I?” He snatched up her bag and held out a hand expectantly. “Ready to go home, princess?”

 

Buffy looked down at the proffered hand and back up into hesitant blue eyes. She doubted that things back home were as peachy as he made them seem- not with interfering friends like his- but the alternative was just too unbearable. She’d rather be with him and put up with the hassle than be without him and endure the misery that this past week had been.

 

Reaching out, she took his hand, twining her fingers with his. When he smiled and squeezed her hand gently, she could swear she felt the stillness of her heart thump with joy.

 

She wasn’t about to give in that easily, though.

 

“If you think I’m riding all the way back to Sunnyhell with you stinking like ‘ho de Faith’, you’re out of your mind,” she lectured sternly. “My room is paid up until tomorrow night and it has a fairly large shower.” She curled her tongue behind her teeth in a perfect imitation of his patented leer, her eyes trailing suggestively over him. “And you’re a very, very dirty boy.”

 

“Yeah?” he purred, curling an arm around her narrow shoulders and pulling her snug against his side. “Do I get a tongue bath after?”

 

“If you’re good.”

 

“Oh, baby, I can be very good…”

 

Their voices faded down the alley. Behind them, a curvy brunette detached herself from the shadows, shoulders drooping and full mouth in a permanent pout as she watched them walk away.

 

“I do NOT wear Designer Imposter’s!” she huffed before storming away in the opposite direction.

 

THE END

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