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Chapter 16

Spike woke up about an hour or so after noon … starving.  He’d not fed last night, more concerned with getting Joyce to her daughter.  The thrum of blood in the Slayer’s veins was too powerful a lure to be denied.  He could take just a little and that would hold him over until nightfall.  And, he’d definitely need the nourishment if he were going to be around her watcher for the rest of the afternoon poring over books and the notes he and the Slayer had managed to accumulate.  

His hands found their way beneath her clothes, slowing arousing her body.  He was rock hard, his cock straining against the zipper of his pants, and he couldn’t help but grind himself into her ass.  She didn’t seem to mind, caught up in the feel of his hands gliding over her flesh, teasing her.  His fingers slid beneath her knickers to tease her slit, until they were slick with her response.  

She was moaning softly now, completely caught up in what he was doing to her, how he was making her feel.  His fangs pierced her flesh at the same time he slid two fingers deep inside her and he couldn’t help the moan of pleasure as her blood spilled onto his tongue.  The Slayer arched against him, driving his fangs deeper into her neck, oblivious to the slight pain that action caused as her body responded to the gliding motion of his fingers.  

Spike forced himself to go slow, to where he was just swallowing her blood as it filled his mouth, rather than sucking deeply at the holes at her throat.   

As the door to the basement opened, he growled possessively, his amber gaze searching out the person that had dared to enter his territory.  

~*~  

“Buffy?  Are you down here?  Giles told me to wake you up…he had—”  

His voice trailed off as the light from above shined down on the two people lying together on the cot.  Xander could only stare in horror as Spike slowly drained his friend dry.  When the signals coming from his brain finally reached his voice box and legs, he hollered for Giles and raced back up the stairs.  

~*~*~*~*~  

Spike didn’t move as the basement was suddenly flooded with light and no fewer than five people clamored down the stairs to see what was going on.  He growled louder, the warning tone snapping the Slayer out of the sexual haze she’d been in just moments ago.  

Buffy opened her heavy-lidded eyes to see expressions ranging from shock, to anger, to outright fear, on the faces of her friends and family.  She moved to reassure them, tell them that she was all right, but as if sensing her intentions, the grip around her body tightened, the growl increasing.  

“Let her go…you… you…”  Willow ’s voice trailed off, unable to come up with a scathing enough insult, “vampire” just not having the right connotation at this moment.  

The Slayer’s eyes moved over the faces of her friends, seeking out her watcher.  If she calmed him down, then maybe they could explain the situation without the use of pointy wood entering the conversation.  And a quick glance at her sister Slayer said it wasn’t going to take much for that to happen – she was poised to fight and was just looking for an opening.  

Her gaze locked with Giles’, her eyes silently imploring him to get the others to leave.  He seemed to hesitate, which only made Spike growl again.  

“Please, Giles, just go…we’ll be up in a minute.” Then her eyes shifted to her mother.  “Mom, I’m fine.  Just—”  

“Come on everyone.  You heard my daughter.”  Joyce’s no-nonsense voice rang out and the small troupe reluctantly made their way upstairs.  

His fingers had stilled inside her, but the moment the door clicked shut, he was moving them again, forcing all thought away until nothing remained but the feel of him inside her.  The other hand that had been wrapped around her middle, snaked up her abdomen to tease her breast, alternately rubbing first one hardened peak and then the other.  

In seconds, she was writhing in front of him again, the dying embers stoked to a burning flame under his skillful hands.  She clamored to get closer, needing him inside her…but he ignored her subtle pleas, content to bring her off with hands alone.  

Then she didn’t care anymore, because she was flying.  The sucking at her neck increased as her climax tore through her body, drawing out the moment until it was almost too much.   

Her rigid muscles eventually relaxed and she sank bonelessly into the cot.  

Spike withdrew his fangs, the rumbling in his chest automatic as he laved at the fresh set of marks.  That seen to, he slid his fingers free and paid them the same attention he had her neck, the heady taste of her pleasure the next best thing to her blood.  

When he was finished, he curled up around her and silently willed his hard-on away.  Not an easy feat given her proximity, or the fact that he now had her taste in his mouth.  In front of him, he could feel her start to doze off, and he shook her awake.  

“Uh uh, luv.  We don’t make an appearance soon and all bets are gonna be off.  Come on now, up you go,” he coaxed.  

“Do we have to?” she whined, even as she obediently sitting up on the cot.  

“Where’s that hard-as-nails Slayer from yesterday?”  

“Right here, and so not wanting to explain why I’ve become your chew toy.”  She ran her fingers through her hair then stood, a resigned sigh escaping her lips at the coming confrontation.  Spike was a step behind her, snagging the shirt he’d worn the night before from the floor and slipping it over his head.  

“So don’t,” he stated in his no-nonsense manner.  “You don’t owe them any explanations.  Besides, tomorrow night we’ll be gone and…”  

He stopped at seeing her stricken expression, moving to her side so that he could draw her close.  “Hey, now.  None of that.”  

“It’s just—”  

“I know.”  And he did.  No matter how much the little girl in her might want to stay, the Slayer in her knew she couldn’t.  The first time she’d left, every last drop of emotion, save rage, had been drained from her, so that she hadn’t cared one way or another.  The carefree girl was gone, and in her place was a cold-blooded killer intent on revenge – at whatever cost.   

But, she’d been slowly opening herself up in recent weeks, allowing herself to feel again.  

Seeing her mother hadn’t been something for which she’d been prepared.  The Slayer had thought she could slip into Sunnydale and back out again with no one being the wiser, without any contact with those she’d left behind.  Now, when she left, she knew what she’d be giving up.  No more friends.  No more family.  Just an evil vampire as a companion.  

“Come on.  Your mates are probably getting anxious.  The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can see how much that watcher of yours knows.”  

He pulled away from her and directed her towards the stairs.  

~*~*~*~*~  

Buffy stood protectively in front of Spike as the two paused in the hallway leading to the living room.  Five sets of eyes looked up at their approach, none of them knowing quite what to say after what they’d all witnessed in the basement.  The fact that the girl standing before them looked nothing like their Buffy also lending to the silence.  

Then Xander being Xander had to open his mouth and cram his foot down it like usual.  

“Sooo… Buffy, another vampire, huh?” he said snidely.  

A growl erupted from Spike’s chest, but the Slayer was faster.  She was across the room and had her friend pinned up against the wall in a matter of seconds.  Her forearm dug into his neck as she glared up at him.  

Everyone in the room froze as they watched Buffy stronghold Xander.  Kendra looked like she was ready to go after Spike, but Joyce put a calming hand on her wrist – the vampire just smiled at the dark-skinned Slayer.  

Then all eyes turned to Buffy as she spoke to Xander in a voice no one had heard before, save Spike.  

“I don’t even know why I came back.  Shoulda’ just told the Order to let them have you.”  Her eyes were as hard as steel as she looked upon the boy that she’d once called friend.  “Ya know… fuck you, Xander.  I neither want, nor do I have to, explain myself to you.”  Her head swiveled to Willow .  “Anything you care to add while we’re all in a sharing mood.”  

“N-no…no… I…”  

“Buffy, that’s enough,” Giles interrupted.  

“Enough?  Enough?  Do you have any idea what I’ve been through this last month?  Any?  Then to come back, dispense with the threat to all of your lives, only to have you judge me?  Well, screw you,” she yelled.  

“Buffy…honey.  No one’s—”  

“Oh please, mom.  You guys took one look at him feeding from my neck and assumed the worse.  Never mind that he’s been by my side since I left…”  

“Slayer…” Spike called out calmly.  

“What?” Her head turned to regard him.  

“Let ‘im go, luv.”  

Buffy turned back to see Xander twitching.  She stepped back abruptly, leveling him with a look of disgust before returning to the vampire’s side.  Ignoring Xander’s coughing, and how Willow rushed to his side, she stepped close to Spike and waited for him to wrap his arms around her.   

He did, pulling her close to his chest, his stance just daring anyone to object.  

“We should just go,” Buffy mumbled under her breath.  She was tired.  And this drama wasn’t something that she really needed to deal with.  

Spike didn’t care one way or the other; if the Slayer wanted to leave, they’d leave.  He turned around, leading her out of the room and back to the basement to get their things.  

“Wait!” Giles called out.  The two stopped but didn’t turn around.  “You wanted me to look over your notes.  Please…stay.  Let me try to help you.”  Joyce would never forgive them if her daughter walked away right now.  

“Alright,” Spike replied after a time.  “We’ll grab the books and meet you in the dining room.”  

Giles breathed a sigh of relief and he felt Joyce’s hand slip in his and give it a gentle squeeze of thanks.  A moment later, she stepped away and headed for the kitchen to see about some snacks; it was probably going to be a late night and if she remembered correctly, her daughter hadn’t eaten her soup before she’d left, and it was doubtful she ate it once she was gone.  “Kendra, can you get the curtains in the dining room?”  

“Certainly, Miz Summers,” the Slayer replied in her heavily accented voice.  A part of her wanted to argue, but she held her tongue…for now.  

When Giles was alone with Willow and Xander, he turned to the boy, his displeasure evident on his features.  

“Xander, if you can’t keep your mouth shut, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.  Buffy is only here until tomorrow night and I’ll not have her last moments with her mother spoiled by the jealous ramblings of—”  

“Buffy’s leaving?” Willow interrupted, somewhat confused.  

The watcher pulled his glasses off, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.  “Yes, Willow.  Buffy knows she can’t stay here.  Both she and Spike are targets of the Order of Taraka.  For her to stay would be to put us all in danger.  It’s why she left before.  Until…unless she can find them…well, suffice to say, she’s never coming back.  That she’s managed to stay alive this long proves what a good team she and Spike make.”  

“Oh my God…that’s just…how awful.”  

“Yes, it is rather that.”  His gaze shifted from the redhead back to the boy, his harsh expression giving way in the face of the Slayer’s stark reality.  

“Good riddance,” he ground out as he stormed towards the front door.  

“Xander!” Willow cried.  He ignored her, slamming out the front door and away from the Slayer’s home.  She stared in shock at the open door, not comprehending how her friend could just walk away after everything they’d been through in the last year and a half.  

“He didn’t mean it, Willow,” Giles told her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.  “He’s just angry and upset.  It’s his way of dealing.  He’ll be back.”  

“I’ve never seen him like this,” she confessed.  “He’s usually so easygoing…”  

“Yes, well.” He coughed, unsure what exactly to say.  Instead, he changed the subject, returning his glasses to his face.  “Would you like to stay around for an impromptu research party?”  

“You betcha.”  

“Come on then.”  

~*~*~*~*~  

Conversation was stilted around the dining room table, everyone trying to put on a good front in the face of Xander’s glaring absence.  Eventually, the books and research consumed them and more notes were scribbled down, hypotheses made.  

Through it all, Joyce marveled at the resilience of her daughter.  

How she’d taken every punch and low blow life had to offer her and kept coming back for more.  The fact that she was on death’s doorstep just the day before and now, she had her nose buried in a book, all in an effort to find those that were trying to kill her – so she could go to them.  Face them on their own turf.  

The pride she had for her daughter knew no bounds.  The mental image she had at this moment, something to sustain her in the months, perhaps years, ahead.  Her face a mask of determination as she concentrated on the text place on the table in front of her.  

Joyce watched as her daughter often looked over at the vampire.  How the light in her eyes dimmed a bit as he excused himself at sunset, before she shook off the feeling and returned to her reading.  When he came back, she noticed that he had a bag for her…dinner apparently, seeing the the hamburger and fries she pulled out of the bag.  That forced Joyce to see about their own meal, the idea of pizza met with approval all the way around – including Buffy, who’d finished off the food Spike had brought her, and Spike.  

After eating, Kendra left to patrol.  Buffy didn’t even bother to get up and go with her 1) because she didn’t think Spike would let her out of his sight, and 2) she was still a bit sore from her run in with the Order’s assassins the other night.  Instead, she continued to read until her eyes started to cross and the words on the page started to blur.  

Around eleven o’clock , Spike called a halt to the Slayer’s involvement, sending her off to bed to rest.  Her friend, Willow , was starting to droop in her chair as well, and he offered to take her home.  That neither she, nor Giles, balked at his suggestion showed that they were trying to get along, and a moment later the redhead and the vampire disappeared out the front door.  

“Why don’t you go on up to bed, Joyce?”  

“What about you?”  

“I’ve got some things I want to look over first.  Besides, there’s always the couch,” he responded.  

“Alright then.  Good night, Rupert.”  

“Good night.”  

~*~*~*~*~  

When Spike returned, it was to find the dining room deserted, save the watcher.  Neither spoke as he gained his seat and picked up the book he’d been reading before.  The soft rustling of the aged pages broke the silence, as did the occasional scrawl of the pen on paper when Giles wrote something down.  Towards dawn, Spike had had enough and stood to make his way downstairs.  

“Does she know?” Giles asked just as he reached the kitchen.  

Spike had to suppress a smile.  He knew the watcher was an observant man, that he’d notice right off the different set of marks on her neck that the Slayer had done nothing to hide.  But, it wasn’t any business of this man.  Like the Slayer said, they owed no one an explanation.  It leant a harshness to his response.  

“She accepted me.”  

“But does she know,” Giles persisted.  

“She will…in time.”  

“You…care for her,” he whispered, astonished.  The realization shook his very foundation.  A truce was one thing.  For a vampire, one not hindered by a soul, to develop feelings…and for the very thing that was created to destroy their kind.  

“Yes.”  Spike stood and made to leave the room.  

“Then you’ll look after her?”  

“Goes without saying, mate.”  

Giles waited until the vampire was out of earshot, the whispered thank you that left his lips something he could never say to his face.  

But Spike heard it anyway.  

~*~  

Giles researched for the remainder of the night, ignoring his body’s demand for rest.  When he felt his eyes start to close, he put a pot of tea on to boil.  Joyce had invested in the teakettle after he’d become a frequent visitor in the wake of Buffy’s disappearance.   

His fingers flew across the paper as he scribbled note after note in his effort to make sense of all the cryptic writing he’d come across.  He just prayed the vampire would be able to read his frantic scribblings.  When he was finished translating what he could, he grabbed a fresh set of sheets and began composing a letter to his Slayer.  

~*~*~*~*~  

Buffy carefully disentangled herself from the sleeping vampire and climbed off of the cot.  She was feeling better today, her body nearly healed after the beating she’d taken.  After a shower, she’d feel like a brand new Slayer.  

Twenty minutes later, she was feeling much like her old self.  She took a moment to slather on the beauty products she’d done without the past month, the faint fragrance of jasmine perfuming her skin rather than the hotel bar soap she’d gotten used to.  She’d have to see if she could splurge once in a while when she and Spike were on their own again.  

She made her way into the kitchen and greeted her mother and Kendra.  The smell of freshly made pancakes caused her stomach to rumble loudly.  

“Sit down.  Eat,” Joyce laughed.  

“Thanks, mom.”  She took a small stack, slathering them with butter and pouring syrup over the top.  At the first bite, she hummed her pleasure.  “These are great!”  

“Well, eat up.  There’s plenty more where that came from.”  

Buffy ate two helpings before she finally pushed her plate away.  “I can’t eat another bite.”  

Joyce smiled at her daughter, glad she could do this one last thing for her.  

Reluctantly, Buffy gained her feet.  “I’ve got to take care of a few things.  If Spike wakes up, tell him I’ll be back shortly.”  

She turned to Kendra.  “I can trust you to leave him be, can’t I?”  

“I’ll no’ be harmin’ ‘im, if’n he behaves ‘imself,” she confirmed.  

“Ok.”  She grinned at the girl and stood.  

“Do you need me to take you?” her mom asked.  

“No.  I’ll be fine.  I should be back in a couple of hours.”  

“Ok.  Be careful, sweetie.”  

~*~  

Buffy walked into the bar.  It was too early for customers, but the owner was there for the deliveries being made.  

“Willie!  Remember me?”  

Willie glanced over at the obviously dyed redhead, his gaze taking in the harsh clothing and pale features.  If she wasn’t standing smack dab in the middle of a sunbeam, he could have sworn she was a vampire.  There was just something about her, the confident attitude that clearly defined her as a predator, rather than the prey.  

“Uh…”  

The Slayer walked over to the bar, easily vaulting over the top so that she could pin the slimy bartender up against the wall.  Glasses wobbled precariously and bottles threatened to topple over and shatter on the ground.  

Willie was ready to shit in his pants.  The girl holding him so effortlessly against the wall brought recollection of another…  

“Slayer?”  

“Give the man a cookie!”  

“Uhhh… what can I do for you?”  

“You can take me to see your friend Harry again.”  

“Harry?  Oh, right!  Harry!  Sure, Slayer…whatever you say.”  

~*~*~*~*~    

The rest of the day went by too fast for Joyce.  The imminent nightfall something she wished with all her heart that she could hold off.  

Xander had returned earlier in the day to make amends. Her daughter had accepted his apology, but Joyce could see the stiffness in her actions, as if she were waiting for the boy to try something, say something.  

Both he and Willow had left just moments before, neither of them willing to witness the Slayer’s final goodbye.  Each of them praying for their friend’s success against the Order.  

Right now, Buffy was upstairs in her room, talking to Kendra while she packed away her things.  No doubt telling the girl all about how she used to climb in and out of her window via the tree so that she could patrol.  Well, with Joyce now aware of certain things, her surrogate daughter would be using the front door.  The three had talked earlier, and Buffy had insisted that her sister Slayer take her room and move out of the tiny spare bedroom; it was nothing more than a storage area, and it wasn’t like her room was going to see any use.  Kendra had finally relented and after Willow and Xander had left, Buffy had taken a box out of the basement to pack away the affects that had made the room “hers,” sealing it up to be put in storage.   

Joyce felt the minutes continue to tick by, sensed the approaching night by the shift of the shadows in the kitchen.  Too soon! she told herself.  She wasn’t ready to let her baby go. She was supposed to graduate high school, and then Joyce was supposed to let her daughter spread her wings just a little bit as she went away to college, and then finally letting go once she got married.  

But not now.  

Buffy was only sixteen.  

It wasn’t time…  

Joyce reined in her emotions.  If she got to thinking too hard about what ifs, she’d never be able to keep her composure.  She just needed to have faith in her daughter.  Buffy would find this Order and decimate them.  Then she’d come home, back where she belonged.  

~*~*~*~*~  

Buffy packed away the last item, noticing with a sense of finality the sun slipping behind the trees.  

It was time.  

Lifting the box in her arms, she said a quick goodbye to Kendra, giving her room a last glance, before she turned and made her way down the stairs. 

In the basement, she noticed Spike had just finished packing away their belongings.  She put the box on one of the shelves then preceded him up the stairs for their final goodbyes.  

Her watcher was first.  The awkwardness of his affection warmed her heart, the quick hug and his blusterings something that would stay with her forever.  He really was more like a father to her than her own had been.  He gave her a stack of notes and added a couple of his own texts, which she stuck in her bag for later.  

Then came her mom.  

She threw herself in her mother’s arms, hugging her tightly and trying desperately not to cry.  Buffy wasn’t quite sure how long they stayed like that, only that she didn’t want it to be over.  The finality of the moment not lost on either of them.  

Spike’s words cut short her goodbye.  

Time to go.  

Buffy pulled away, felt the brush of her mother’s hand across her cheek one last time before she turned and walked out the front door behind the vampire.  

She didn’t turn around.  

Didn’t see her mother sag helplessly against her watcher as she gave in to her grief.  

Eyes staring straight ahead, she climbed into the cab that would take them to the airport.  

Their destination: the next clue to the puzzle.  

The Middle East .  

~*~*~*~*~  

Joyce did as Spike asked, never telling the hospital that she’d seen her daughter.  Eventually, the staff forgot about the day that some crazed man in black stormed into the ICU and kidnapped one Buffy Summers.  The trail grew cold, and like so many before her, her disappearance was soon relegated to the back burner by local law enforcement, until it was eventually filed away in the “unsolved cases” drawer.

Continued in Never Alone Again

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