Banner by Selene

Chapter 29: Awakenings

Spike stripped and crawled into bed beside Buffy. The glow was starting to diminish around her, almost as if it knew that she would soon be waking. He gazed down at her – willing her to wake up and look at him, tell him she wasn’t mad for what he had done. Done to her. While she slept, the blue lines had receded from her face and neck leaving the slight tan she had had before this whole mess had started. Although, that too would fade with time. She would be like him, destined to hide from the sun.

Earlier, he had kicked off the extra blankets he had placed on her so that now only a sheet covered her body. This, he slowly lowered so that he could see how much her body had healed. Lifting the silk chemise above her hips, Spike noticed that the scar had healed, and there was no trace of the blue poison visible anywhere on her body. Lightly, he ran his hand over where the scar used to be then leaned down to place a light kiss on the spot. A soft moan had him raising his head to look at Buffy’s face.

Her eyelids started to flutter before finally opening. The first thing she saw as her vision cleared was Spike.

“Spike? What happened?” she asked softly, confused. She glanced down at her body. The glow had faded, leaving behind her slightly sun-kissed skin, void of any of the poison that had been evident in her body.

“We… I fixed you,” Spike stated, as he moved up her body and pulled her into his arms. They lay there, side by side, gazing at each other.

“Fixed me? How?”

“How? You don’t remember?” he asked, stalling. Flashes began to drift through her mind.

Cold.

Dying.

Wanting Spike. Finding him there, holding her.

Teeth piercing her neck, not hurting. Comforted. Protected.

Positions reversing. The blood.

Blackness.

Spike watched the emotions play across her face as she started to remember what happened to her. He saw the exact moment she realized what he had done. And, he waited. Waited for her rage, her disgust, at his betrayal. Because of what he had done, he’d denied her entrance back into heaven. And he waited.

It never came.

She looked up at him with wonder in her eyes. Slowly, she reached out one hand and ran in down his sculpted cheekbone then gently cupped his chin. Lightly she ran her thumb over his closed lips. The soft caress had him trembling and he closed his eyes against the sensation.

“Forever,” she whispered, understanding.

His eyes flew open at her softly spoken words. His blue eyes looked into hers, penetrating deep, searching for any hint that she might hate him. He saw nothing, no revulsion, just wave after wave of love pouring from her hazel eyes. He cupped her face with both hands, repeating her whispered promise, “Forever.” Then, he pulled her close and kissed her, sealing their vow.

~*~*~*~*~

This kiss was carnal, wanton. Both knew what the other liked and weren’t shy about giving it or demanding it. Their tongues dueled. Each reacquainted themselves with each other’s tastes and textures. Spike broke the kiss momentarily to whip the chemise over her head, leaving Buffy’s bare body exposed to his gaze. Then, he claimed her mouth once more, his tongue demanding entrance, which was immediately given. When Spike tasted blood, he groaned, delighting in her taste. Deepening the kiss to get more. Then, his eyes flew wide when he realized what she had done. Buffy – his Childe – had nicked herself with her fangs, allowing him to taste her.

Realizing that she hadn’t had her first meal yet, he tore his mouth away from hers. Groaning at the loss, Buffy opened her eyes and looked at him.

“What’s wrong, Spike?” she questioned provocatively. It had been so long since they had been together like this and Buffy was trying to make up for lost time.

“You need to feed first, luv. You’re very weak, though you may not realize it.” She wrinkled her nose at that. Feed. That was sure going to take some getting used to. Then, she started to panic. Feed. Blood. People. Seeing where her thoughts were going, he quickly rushed to reassure her.

“From me, pet, from me,” he whispered, twisting to pull her naked body on top of him, guiding her to his neck. Sliding one hand into his hair, Buffy gently tugged his head to the side. Instinctively, she found his jugular; her fangs poised above it, just breaking the skin. “Go on, luv,” he whispered. “Drink me…aaaahhhh” he broke off as her fangs struck deep and she began to suck at his neck. “That’s it, baby. Taste me. Feel me.” God, he had forgotten what this felt like. The connection. The belonging. The arousal. His nostrils flared. He could smell it coming off of her, just as he was sure she could smell it on him. Growling, he pulled her closer, aligning her body with his.

Buffy exalted in the taste of him. Spike wasn’t kidding. It was about the blood. And, she couldn’t get enough of him. Her Spike, now her Sire. She continued to pull deep mouthfuls before swallowing, moaning at the taste as it slid down her throat. Allowed it to fill her up, revitalizing her. It was driving her crazy. The throbbing in her womb told her that she needed him inside her. Sliding in and out as she drank, connecting in a way only they could. Now. As vampires.

He had to be inside her. Needed to be inside her. Sex and blood – they went hand in hand. He rolled over, pinning her beneath him, as she continued to feed from his neck. Poised at her sopping entrance, he buried himself to the hilt with one smooth thrust. Her inner walls clamped around his cock like a steel vise, squeezing him for all he was worth. He stilled within her, letting her adjust to his invasion. Besides, she hadn’t finished feeding yet. Buffy quickly disengaged her fangs from his neck and instinctively licked the wounds closed. She could finish feeding later. Right now, she wanted him, pounding into her for all he was worth. She spread her legs wider, allowing him to settle more deeply between her legs. Spike groaned.

“Buffy…aaahhh…” She was trying to shift underneath him, urging him to move. “Luv….please…” Another moan. “You gotta finish feed…” His voice trailed off; Buffy had just grabbed his hips and pushed, forcing his cock to slide out of her slick channel. Then, she grabbed his ass and slammed him back home again.

“Later. I need you now,” she whispered in his ear, her tongue darting out to trace along the shell. “Please, Spike,” she begged as she wrapped her legs around his lower back, moving her arms up to his shoulders before dragging her nails down his back deep enough to leave scratches.

Hell, this was going to be fast. So much for the foreplay he had planned. Spike just prayed that she was as close to the edge as he. Removing one arm from underneath her shoulders, he reached down and grabbed her ass trying to bring her even closer. Then he began to thrust. Only, this was no tame lovemaking. It was feral, mating at its most elemental. Spike pounded into her almost brutally, over and over. Claiming her. Possessing her. And Buffy didn’t care. She gloried in it. His taking. Her nerve endings were tingling. She was ready to launch herself from the abyss and fly. So close now.

Spike could sense that she was ready. He gripped the hair at the back of her neck and tugged her head to the side exposing his mark. His face shifted and lowered towards it. When his fangs penetrated her neck and he pulled her blood into his mouth, the sensation shot straight to her core and she came, a growl torn from her throat. Her inner walls squeezed him, coaxing him to join her. Wanting her lover with her, Buffy sunk her own fangs back into her previous mark, pulling her Sire’s blood into her mouth to slide blissfully down her throat. The taste of him...she couldn’t get enough.

Her fangs were his undoing. His orgasm crashed over him, and he tore his mouth from her neck shouting her name. As the last of the tremors that shook his body subsided, Spike collapsed on top of her. Buffy released his neck once more and began lovingly licking the wounds. Shifting slightly, he slipped out of her and rolled to his back, bringing Buffy to lie along side him. Seeing the blood oozing slightly from his bite, he leaned over to lick it up while running his tongue over his mark to close it. Sated, they both lay there for a moment, cradled in each other’s arms.

~*~*~*~*~

Downstairs, Angel could hear the two lovers yet tried to ignore them. And the blood, dear God! He could smell it, practically taste it. It was family. And even though she was Spike’s, Buffy was now tied to him. The House of Aurelius now had a slayer among its ranks. And not just any slayer. A Guardian Slayer, similar to the First Slayer.

He had the rest of the members of the house, along with Fred, Wesley, and Giles, gathered in the living room: 1) because he knew what it was like when a fledgling first arose and 2) because what he needed to say involved them all. Well, would involve them all. Now was as good a time as any to start preparing to deal with the demons of the Draemuir dimension and getting that portal closed, permanently. Ignoring the moans and smell of blood wafting down from the second level, Angel launched into the reason for this meeting.

“As you know – well, most of you anyway – Buffy was attacked by a demon from the Draemuir dimension. His goal was to end the slayer line by killing her, which would release her soul from this plane. Giles, maybe you can explain the whys a little easier?”

“Right, of course. As Angel was saying, this demon knew how to render all of you obsolete, leaving only Faith as the single slayer. And, what he knew, and we eventually found out, was that Buffy was the key to all of you simultaneously being called. It had something to do with the scythe recognizing her as its owner when the spell was done. So, if she were to die…” He paused to remove his glasses for a thorough cleaning. “If she were to die, each of your slayer abilities would be gone.”

Sensing that Rupert was starting to get choked up, Wesley stood up and continued. “As near as we’ve been able to determine, the Draemuir demons are attempting to take over here. But, with the multitude of slayers now populating the Earth, it’s not feasible for them. That’s why they probably concocted this plan.”

“Which leads us back to why,” Angel continued. “Using the extensive resources at Wolfram & Hart, I’ve been able to find out that the Draemuir demons roamed the Earth but were banished by rival demon clans almost two thousand years ago. Apparently, there was some type of loophole in the spell that allows them to attempt a return every two thousand years. And, that deadline is a little over a week away – on the day of the full moon of the eleventh month. Which translates to next Thursday.”

“But, that’s Thanksgiving!” Willow shouted, then blushed, embarrassed by her outburst.

“I don’t think the demons had that in mind when they planned this, Willow,” Giles stated deadpan. Everyone in the room looked at him for a minute and then they all burst out laughing. Well, everyone, that is, except Angel. His normally brooding face softened for a moment, before evening out once more.

“What?” Sweeping the room with disdainful eyes, he fixed each occupant with a glare usually reserved for uncouth hoodlums. Yet, they continued to laugh.

“Oh dear Lord, what is so bloody funny?” he asked in his most exasperated, put upon, longsuffering, why-the-hell-am-I-stuck-here-with-all-these-juveniles voice. That just sent the room into a second round of laughter. Even Angel chuckled this time.

Realizing that no more discussion was to be had regarding the upcoming confrontation next week, Giles stiffly excused himself from the group, retreating to the office to see if he could formulate some type of plan for next Thursday. Angel had followed him, retreating to a corner, a pad of paper and pencil in his hand. Fred and Wesley joined them after a bit, while the girls curled up in front of the TV to watch movies. No one wanted to venture upstairs to better hear the faint sounds coming from above.

next

REVIEW ME!!