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Chapter 4

Spike wandered around London for a bit, his companion silent at his side, trying to think of a safe place to go.  Once the Council realized some of their precious books had been nicked, they’d seal off all exits to the city in their pursuit of the thieves – nothing overt, just an invisible presence to watch over everyone that came and went from the city.  Better to be away from here and settled someplace for an easy escape.   

They eventually made their way to the rail stations and the vampire paused to peruse the map of destinations, assessing and rejecting places to go.  His eyes finally focused on Dover, and he mentally weighed the pros and cons of that destination before he gestured for the Slayer to follow him towards the ticket booth.    

“Two tickets to Dover,” Spike told the man behind the counter.   

The elderly man looked up as the accented voice reached his drowsy ears, before widening momentarily at the two people standing in front of him.  He nodded in response, for once grateful for the bulletproof glass separating him from the masses.  Rattling off the price, he waited, and surprisingly, the blond-headed man forked over the money without hesitation.   

“The train doesn’t leave until 5:30, with boarding beginning an hour beforehand.  You’ve got about thirty minutes to kill before then,” he told the man – instantly regretting his choice of phrase as soon as it left his lips – and he passed over the two tickets.  His attention was diverted by the woman at his side, who, for someone dressed as outlandishly as the former, had a soft-spoken voice that eased his trepidation. 

“Is there a bathroom around here?”   

“Yes, miss.  Behind you, there’s a corridor, and you’ll find the facilities on your right.”   

“Thank you,” she replied before turning to her companion.  They seemed to communicate silently before he nodded and watched her walk away.   

“Thanks, mate,” Spike told the elderly man, placing the tickets in an inside pocket of his duster.  Then he grabbed his bags, and moved to follow his companion.   

The man behind the counter released his pent up breath, and for some strange reason, felt that he’d somehow managed to escape death.     

~*~*~*~*~   

Buffy made quick work of the facilities, afterwards standing before the mirror secured over the faucet while she washed her face and hands.  The tinglies she felt along her back told her that Spike had stopped outside the door and taken up a sentry position.  It was almost comforting, those tinglies she got when he was nearby.  Like a constant security blanket she’d come to associate with his presence.  It was when she didn’t feel them that she seemed on edge, was unable to relax her guard that had her body strung tight as if moments from snapping.   

Snagging a paper towel from the dispenser, she wiped off her damp face and stared at the image in front of her.  Physical exhaustion shone in her eyes, but the deep emotional pain that she’d been experiencing appeared to be lifting.  No longer were her eyes quite so haunted.  But the vengeance was still there…along with a small bit of excitement. 

Figuring she’d stalled enough, she chucked the used paper towel in the trashcan and let herself out of the bathroom. 

Spike was leaning up against the wall, one foot lifted as a brace against the structure.  A lit cigarette dangled from between his lips in complete defiance of the posted ‘no smoking’ sign.  A habit that was bad to the core, yet somehow, he just made it seem remarkably sexy.   

“Come on.  Let’s get out of here before we get kicked out.”   

A smirk and a cocked brow was his only response to her snarky comment, but he didn't argue as he pushed himself away from the wall and grabbed the remaining bag from its place on the floor, following behind her as she practically marched out the door to wait until they were able to board their train.   

Spike watched her huff off, taken aback by her sudden feistiness.  Before she’d gone into the bathroom, she’d been near exhaustion once again, as neither of them had settled into a normal sleeping pattern, just taking snatches here and there.  But, she’d come out of the bathroom, taken one look at him, and he watched as her weariness seemed to evaporate without a trace.  Then he smelt it…just a faint trace of her arousal wafting over his senses.   

‘Methinks the lady doth protest too much.’   

~*~*~*~*~   

They were the only ones waiting when they were finally granted permission to board, thus allowing them to pick their seat.  Deciding on a back corner location – away from the majority of window and right near an exit door in case they needed to make a fast getaway – Buffy slid into the seat nearest the window and pulled down her shade and the one a row ahead, placing her bag on the floor space in front of her.  Spike slid in next to her after a quick reconnaissance of the cabin.   

He turned to glance at the Slayer, noting once again, the borderline exhaustion emanating from her frame now that she had something semi-comfortable to lean back into.  

“C’mere, kitten,” he urged, putting his arm around her shoulder and easing her to lay with her head in his lap.  He was surprised when she didn’t protest, just laid down and closed her eyes.    

Spike watched her while she slept, occasionally running his fingers through her hair.  As people began to filter on the train, he eyed them carefully.  He didn’t think that the Order had been able to find them yet, but with the theft of the Council’s books, he wouldn’t put it past them to have employed the same methods the watchers were using.  So, right now, until they’d safely left London behind, they were in danger. The hour crept by and the cabin started to fill, most of the passengers spreading out to take advantage of the near-empty train to sleep for the hour and a half ride it would take them to reach their destination.  Spike was happy to feel the wheels start to move, taking them away from the Council, away from the danger he'd felt as they’d wandered about London.  

~*~*~*~*~   

Thunderstorms greeted their arrival into Dover, having overtaken the train just outside London, something of which had the vampire deeply grateful.  He’d not been sure how they were going to manage arriving at the coastline city.  But, it was the one advantage the two of them held over the people seeking them out – Spike wasn’t afraid to move around during the day. 

He glanced down at the slumbering Slayer, gently shaking her awake once the train came to a stop.  His eyes never left the passengers as they grabbed their things and departed.  Spike felt the Slayer stretch beside him as she took in their new surroundings. 

“What time is it?” she questioned sleepily.   

“’Prolly gone about 7 a.m.” he responded.  “Come on.  Let’s get outta here and find us a place to lay low for the day.”   

Spike reached down and easily palmed the bag weighted down with the majority of the books they’d nicked from the Council, standing with a fluid grace to exit their row. Buffy grabbed her own bag and moved to follow him, ignoring the sore muscles in her legs as she walked behind him and out into the downpour.   

They hurried towards the first hotel they came across, racing inside to keep the flammable vampire from turning to dust on the off chance the cloud cover disappeared.  The hotel clerk looked up at the sudden commotion, but figured they were just escaping the deluge that had swept over the city earlier.   

“We need a room, please,” Spike told the woman behind the counter, running his hand through his hair to bring some semblance of order to the now-curly locks.  They ignored his attempts and bounced back into place, causing him to groan.  

“Yes sir, just a moment,” she replied, ignoring the man’s vexed look.  Personally, she thought he should leave the curls alone, it gave him a softer, sexier appeal.  She took his passport and entered his information into the computer then handed him a key, giving him directions to their room.   

Vampire and Slayer walked off, grateful to be that much closer to a bed and some much-needed sleep.  On the ride up the elevator, they came to the conclusion that no research was going to be accomplished until they’d both slept for several hours.  And, it was with a weary sigh the two slipped out of their clothes – after securing the curtains over the window – and climbed beneath the sheets, instinctively reaching for the other before drifting off into sleep. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Spike nuzzled the Slayer’s neck as he woke, his arms locked securely around her middle. Slightly ravenous because he’d not fed since before they’d nicked the books from the Council – partly because he’d not wanted to wander off, and leave the Slayer, to do it – he couldn’t prevent his face from shifting when he felt the strong beat of her artery as his tongue traced along the structure. 

He needed a little something to take the edge off, at least until he could escape into the night for a proper meal.  And, she’d already accepted his bite before. 

One cool hand slipped down along her bare thigh, curling under her leg and pulling it back to drape over his own, exposing her more fully to his questing hand.  Once satisfied she wasn’t going to move her leg from the position he’d placed it, Spike inched his hand away from her leg and towards the coarse curls covering her mound, gliding one finger back and forth along her slit and coating his digit with her body’s unconscious response.  She stirred in her sleep but did not waken to his ministrations, even though she arched into his touch.   

As his finger slipped between her folds, Buffy bucked into his hand, Spike’s name, a whispered sigh escaping her lips.  His finger delved into her hot center over and over, quickly adding a second and a third as her body’s increased secretions eased his entry.  Her hips began to buck in response and he found that he couldn’t wait any longer. 

Replacing his fingers with his cock, he slid home, burying himself within her velvet heat, gripping her hip with his hand to keep her from moving.  He growled low in his throat, the feel of her liquid fire encasing his shaft enough to send him over the edge with barely a handful of thrusts.  His fangs nuzzled her neck and he tried to rein in his body’s response at being buried to the hilt within her slick pussy. 

When he felt he could actually move without spilling his seed prematurely, Spike started a slow, gentle thrusting of his hips.  He took his time, wanting the in and out motion of his length within her body as a distraction for when he finally slid his fangs in her neck.  Done properly, she’d barely feel the biting sting of his second penetration.  And, if she was as responsive as he thought she was going to be, she’d actually enjoy it and be brought to an earth-shattering orgasm. 

He could feel the Slayer rousing from her slumber as the sensations at her core became too great for her to sleep through.  His hearing picked up her increased heart rate, the breathy moans as he repeatedly slid in and out of her slick channel.  He felt the tension radiate outward along her legs, indicating her pending climax.  Spike felt his balls tighten as he neared his own release, and knew it was time. 

He could control himself.  Take just enough of her blood to tide him over and let the Slayer slip back into slumber.   

“Come for me, pet,” he whispered in her ear before, with agonizing slowness, he pierced her flesh with his canines, and began swallowing her delicious Slayer’s blood. 

Buffy cried out his name, her inner walls clamping down on his cock as her body responded to the dual penetrations – her head arched back, driving his fangs even deeper.  She heard him groan into her neck, felt his other arm that had been tucked under her upper back bend, enabling him to grip the underside of her jaw, holding her in place as he went even deeper, pleasure giving way to pain. 

She didn’t care.  It felt so damn good, his near-violent possession, and she gasped, caught completely unaware by the second orgasm rushing through her body – the force of it taking her breath and leaving her in a quivering mass of aftershocks. 

The Slayer’s second orgasm was Spike’s undoing.  He’d barely hung on the first time as her vaginal walls alternately clutched and released his shaft when she climaxed.  There was no way he’d be able to hold out through the second one, especially with her blood sliding down his throat. 

He tore his mouth from her neck and shouted his release, his cock flooding her with his seed, and he continued to pump inside her core until he was spent.  Finally, he stilled, draping himself around her warm, slick body and lovingly licked closed the deep marks he’d made on her neck. 

Spike wasn’t surprised at the rumbling that seemed to bubble up from his chest.  Although no words had been spoken, his demon had asserted its claim on the Slayer and now seemed to practically purr in contentment.  He felt her snuggle closer and drift off to sleep, the bloodletting and sexual satisfaction going a long way towards lulling her body back into slumber.  His arms tightened about her for a moment before he reluctantly pulled back and slipped from the bed. 

They weren’t getting any closer to the Order by sleeping the day away.  He’d take a quick shower and start going through the Council of Wanker’s books to see if they had any information that would help them track the origins of the Order of Taraka, and possibly reveal their – for want of a better word – headquarters.

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