Chapter Four
For Spikespetslayer



"YES," the darkened figure stated as he looked into the bowl. "I have found her Barchian."

Barchian, a small humanoid figure with a face like a hound dog, asked, "Are you sure, Master?"

"Yessssss Barchian." The cloaked figure giggled gleefully. "This Buffy Summers will be my queen.”

"But why Master?" the henchman asked dutifully.

"Can you not see?" The figure stepped out of the shadows. His tall, cadaverous form was clad in skin tight black leather. His head was covered in a skull cap with leather straps - one ran down his forehead between his eyes to the top of his overlarge nose and then split joining with the two other straps which fell across his sunken cheek bones then back to the side of his mask. Despite the look of starvation about the man, he exuded a primal feeling of power to any around him.

"Her hair? Her eyes? She is obviously of old Elven blood."

"But Master…the man with her also has the look of the old Elves," his toadie answered.

"Ahhh yes, but if he touches her, I shall have him killed."

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Buffy was surprised when Spike swept into the room and began gathering up blankets and sheets. "Spike, where do you think you're going?" she asked in her normal high-handed tone.

"Getting…together...what…I…need…to …sleep...outside...BITCH!" Spike answered her, angrier than he expected to be.

"But..." Buffy began, fear growing in her heart. "I was just pointing out why we shouldn't be eating Bambi," Buffy whined.

"Slayer, what do you think we should eat?" Spike questioned. "Go down to the local super mart and place an order?"

"But they're deer," Buffy replied, trying to take the moral high road. "Can't we eat something else?"

"Like what Buffy? Trees? Grass?" Spike responded losing some of the control on his temper. "I spent the entire day out tracking down; then fighting; then killing those 'deer."

"Please…like deer fight back." Buffy gave him an incredulous stare.

Spike jerked his shirt up revealing long, deep gashes across his abdomen and stomach. "Yeah pet? I guess these come from the bloody ducks then?"

"Oh my god! Spike, you're hurt!" Buffy rushed to examine his injuries.

"Like you bloody care Slayer," Spike said as he tried to get by her to the door.

"Where are you going?" Buffy asked getting angry again.

"Outside… to… sleep," Spike informed her. "Are you daft? Already told you once."

"Well, let me get my stuff," Buffy replied completely clueless. She moved to get her own stuff. As she pushed by him in the enclosed space, her still-healing back brushed against the wall.

"Arrrr." Buffy winced as pain shot up her back.

"Bloody hell, slayer," Spike said, exasperation coloring his tone. "YOU still need the bed. You know the ground is still too hard for your cut up slayer body.”

"I'm not sleeping alone in here, Spike," Buffy informed him, her face contorted with pain.

Spike stood stock still for several moments completely knocked off course by her words. "Why?" he asked afraid of her answer.

"’Cause I'm afraid if I go to sleep without you, I won't wake up," she replied softly.

Her words had him completely gob smacked. Spike stared at her for what seemed to be forever before he finally said calmly, "Right then. Let's go to bed."

Moments later as they curled up together, Buffy once again splayed on top of Spike. She whispered, "Spike, do you think my Mom's alive?"

"I hope so love," Spike replied into her hair. "I hope so."

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Buffy awoke the next morning feeling nearly healed but decidedly sore from her position. She was quickly coming to the conclusion that her bare legs sleeping against Spike’s denim was so 'not of the good'. It shocked her how right she felt about sleeping with Spike without the benefit of clothing, and once again, Buffy began having rather impure thoughts about her sleeping companion.

The best part of the whole thing was the serious lack of guilt she had regarding Spike. Buffy just seriously looked forward to seeing if he was as good as she imagined. Without thinking she bent down and kissed Spike for the first time.

What started off as a gentle, yet passionate kiss soon deepened as Spike responded upon waking. The passion wasn't like a rushing river, but rather like the surface of the ocean, turbulent but deeper than either had ever felt.

Buffy reluctantly broke the kiss and then asked a bemused Spike, "You going hunting again today?"

"Yeah, going to get more Bambis," he answered prepared for a fight.

"Good," Buffy said surprising him. "We need the meat."

Spike, being well over a century old, was well versed in female argument tactics, so he ignored her complete one-eighty. "Yeah, we need long-range weapons, love."

"What?" Buffy asked at the sudden topic change.

"Bows…long bows, cross bows…bleeding hell guns, if we can get them. Didn’ find any of them in storage, not even a bloody slingshot," Spike replied, annoyed.

"O....K," Buffy said looking at Spike thoughtfully. "You do know that these people are human, right?"

"Yeah, love," Spike said after snorting at her. "They are humans that have put themselves under my protection. It's a matter of pride now that they stay happy and healthy."

Buffy stood for a moment dumbfounded before asking. "Where can we find long range weapons?"

“Finding the cross bows, recurves, or any guns…no bloody idea, but I can make us some long bows,” he answered almost shyly. "My father thought that all young Englishmen should learn how to be REAL Englishmen."

"Alright," Buffy replied slowly, thinking. "I think I can draw a detailed enough picture of a cross bow, including the trigger mechanism. Giles damn sure made me break them down and clean them enough."

Spike nodded. "I'll get it to a smith as soon as possible," he said, finally pulling away from Buffy to get out of bed.

"Aeryn is a smith," Buffy suddenly blurted out as Spike began putting his shirt on.

"Aeryn?" Spike asked thoughtfully.

"One of the women you are now protecting," Buffy replied, getting out of bed herself.

"Alright, give her your diagram then when you get it done." Spike moved towards the door then turned and looked back at Buffy. "Slayer, don’t teach the women too much."

"Why?" she asked genuinely confused.

"This place is very barbarian. I think if they learn to fight too well, it might make them targets," Spike said thoughtfully. "We'll teach them to use cross bows, but no swords or axes."

Buffy wanted to argue but for some reason what he had said just felt right. "Alright," she replied with some reluctance.

She suddenly smirked at the Vampire. "Aren't you supposed to be hunting?"

"Yeah." He smiled back at her. "Gonna take a few of the older lads, give them a bit of confidence.

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William the Bloody went down the steps trying but failing to repress the question Buff...the Slayer had asked him earlier. 'Did he know they were humans?' Yes, he knew with painful clarity exactly what they were, and it scared him out of ever-loving mind.

Vampires had kept packs of humans since the beginning of time. What they were wasn't the problem. How he was reacting to them was the problem. He felt a deep-seeded NEED to not only defend his herd, but to also ensure the welfare and safety of 'his' humans.

In more than a century of unlife Spike had never felt a reason to separate his 'demon' from his humanity, unlike Angelus his grandsire. His demon reveled in his humanity as much as his humanity loved the strength his demon had given him. And yet now it was his demon that had started viewing these humans as more than a meal. His demon now saw them as his mission in his unlife, and that fact scared his humanity. What was the old proverb? "He who has friends and family has given hostages to fate"? Or some such? He had never been afraid to give his unlife to preserve Dru's, but now his demon had surreptiously added in the Slayer and these humans, while subtracting it's own sire from the list.

As Spike walked up to the campfire, he noticed the looks he received from the humans. He saw gratitude mixed with fear in the brown eyes of the ten or so women. He focused on the one he knew Charena's mum. "Luv, how many lads do we have around here?" Spike asked her.

The woman looked at the others nervously before replying. "Only seven, Sira."

"Good, good." Spike took a plate. "Any with experience hunting?"

"No, Sira," a woman in scarlet and yellow answered him, her eyes filled with fear.

"Good, then send the ones around twelve or older around to the saddle horses," Spike instructed, finishing up his breakfast of deer stew. "They'll need to know how to saddle horses first of all."

"Sira," the unknown woman said in a terrified whisper, "slaves can be killed for carrying weapons."

"Good thing none of you are slaves then, isn't it?" Spike replied casually.

"But Sira," Charena's mum began, "we are humans?"

"And I am your Sira?" Spike looked thoughtful. "In my world that is a very old term. It means something like respect to a liege lord - not quite a king but more than a noble man."

The women were all nodding. He continued, "You see, luvs, I'm a simple man, not much for titles or such. Ta me ‘m the wagon master - not some poncy git in velvet half britches. I'm the wagon Master, and you lot are the traders I protect. So the lads need to learn to help with the hunting."

The women watched him as he left sending the younger ones to find the boys that were old enough to meet him at the saddle horses.

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Buffy exited the wagon, slowly making her way down the steps. Her slayer senses extended and something felt scary. Very scary, well to her. Buffy realized she felt perfectly content with her life right now. Which, of course in the history of all things Buffy, meant that she was about to get kicked in the teeth. She had made a decision. She was going to watch and listen carefully before destroying what she had right now.

As Buffy reached the cook fire, the other women went silent. Each bore an expectant look, as if they knew she was going to be pissed. "Can I have some breakfast?" Buffy asked.

Charene's mother, Nia, cringed before speaking. "We only have the deer stew, mistress?"

Buffy actually snorted before reaching for a bowl then answering. "Nia, I was being a bitch, last night. I'm confused and a little bit off, so I reacted like a bitch. I'm sorry."

The ladies watched her for a moment before Aeryn, the smith, asked her. "Can you talk to the Sira, mistress? He is doing a foolish thing."

Buffy let out a long-suffering sigh. "What has Spike done now?"

"Mistress, he wishes to free us," Charena said filled with fear.

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Spike watched the young would-be hunters with pride. They might have been new at this, but they were fast learners. Four of them were of an age that Spike felt comfortable with having them out here. The oldest was 14 fourteen and the youngest just a little over twelve. They had done well…all right he had done well…but the lads had helped as much as they could. Each horse carried at least two deer, as they rode to where the wagons were in sight.

Then he saw it. A bloody gold mine so to speak. He got off his horse to walk around them, and then he began to dig to make sure. Oh yeah, bloody potatoes! The human's could use them. He looked around the small clearing and saw other plants, peppers, tomatoes, and some bean-looking things.

"Sarn?" he called for the oldest of the boys. "Go back to the wagons and lead them up here."

He motioned the others off their horses, and they started digging potatoes with smiles on the young boy's faces.

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Buffy watched Spike as they all ate their suppers that night, wondering how they had reached this point so quickly. He had gone from her worst enemy to best friend in only a few weeks, but honestly, had anyone else ever made these sacrifices for her? He had offered his life to save hers and then stayed next to her sick bed for days on end pampering her. Now the 'evil dead' acted as if discovering food for these people was his greatest accomplishment, and she understood that. Any little thing they did for these gypsies was treated like a gift of gold. It was hard not to do for them.

Spike caught a whiff of something that smelled a good bit better than the stew, and he turned in response. He saw the slayer staring at him through her long hair and lashes. She looked like the personification of sex and smelled like a wet dream. He couldn't help the smile he gave her as he blew on his stew to cool it off.

The gypsy clothes suited her - dark blue silk blouse and skirt cut to her knees. Her blouse revealed her cleavage, and she wore a yellow scarf tied in her hair, her feet left bare. He wondered if Buffy knew that he knew she wore no knickers. He grinned at her. Not long ago he would have been aghast at the thoughts of shagging the slayer, but now he looked forward to it. He felt himself harden in his skin-tight black leather pants.

Buffy saw the look Spike was giving her and felt a burst of feminine pride. The big bad wanted her. As she looked down his sleek frame and noted his hard on, she realized the BIG BAD, wanted her. She finished her stew quickly, but waited until he was also finished before walking over and putting her plate on the pile to be washed.

Her thoughts wondered for a second wishing she had something better than water or vinegar tasting wine to wash down her meal. As she passed Spike she smirked and licked her lips before sashaying seductively towards their wagon. It hit her as she walked up the wagon steps that, unlike with Angel, no major angsty drama existed. She was just a woman wanting her best friend. She didn't know if it was the location or just the feeling of freedom she had here, but damn she loved it.

Spike sat his own plate down and moved smoothly behind her. He knew he was in for one hell of a night. After all, the woman had shagged the very soul out of Angel.

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The next morning, dawn seemed to arrive bright and early. To Buffy, this morning appeared to be more perfect than the one before.

Spike was a playful puppy after he had gotten laid. Damn, he had gotten laid - four times before they went to sleep, then he had awakened her in the middle of the night for more, and finally, this morning he had started on her hours before dawn. All in all she might have gotten three hours asleep, but damn, she was a happy Buffy. Well okay, a happy, sore Buffy, but still. This was the best morning of her life.

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The emaciated figure shook with anger. "How dare they!"

"Master?" Barchian asked.

"She seduced him! And he let her!" The darkness seemed to cling to him as he began chanting. Two clouds of inky blackness formed around him.

"Kill them," he told the clouds. "If I can't have her, I shall kill her!"


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