A/N:  This story deals with rape and it’s aftereffects.  If you can’t handle it, turn back now.  Flames will be met with mocking scorn as this author’s note has warned you beforehand what to expect.  It’s your own damn fault if you read past this warning.  If, on the other hand, you liked it, I will pet and cuddle any review you may wish to bestow.  ^_^  Thanks, Debs, for the read through.  Mucho appreciated, as always!

Set just after BtVS Season 4 “Who Are You?” and crossing over with AtS Season 1 “Eternity.”  Buffy has just found out that Riley slept with Faith while she was posing in the blond Slayer’s body.  Angelus has broken free, thanks to the aide of the “happy” pill.  B/A, B/S.

~*~*~*~*~

‘I can’t believe he couldn’t tell us apart.  Surely I’m not like that.  Some skank-ho that just fucks for the sake of fucking.’ 

Buffy kicked at a pebble as she made her way through the cemetery.  She couldn’t stay there.  In his room with him.  The cheater.  The love of her life that should have been able to tell that the person he was sticking it to wasn’t she.  Buffy.  His real girlfriend. 

‘What did she do that I didn’t?’ 

Oh, he didn’t fool her.  She’d seen the look in his eyes when he’d told her. Regret and guilt.  Then he’d glossed over it with the “I was making love to ‘you’ speech.”  Yeah, right.  As if she was going to believe that. 

So now here she was, contemplating her technique.  And it was all Faith’s fault.  Faith’s and his.  Stupid Riley and his stupid comparisons.  Well, she didn’t have to stand for that.  She could prove to herself that she could meet and exceed her dark-haired sister Slayer in the horizontal mambo skills.  After all, she was better in everything else when it came to Faith.  Twisted logic firmly entrenched in her mind, she set out.  Her destination sure. 

~*~*~*~*~

Spike lay atop his silken sheets, his hand fisted around his cock as he jerked it up and down along his engorged shaft.  Part of him welcomed the harshness he applied, disgusted with himself – and her – for making him wank off to images of a spell gone awry. 

“Just say yes, and make me the happiest man on earth.” 

“Stupid wanker…” tug “…as if she’d ever…” tug “…consent…” tug “…to marry…” tug “…you…” 

He knew he was getting close now, could feel his balls tighten up in preparation of expending his load over his hands and chest.  The movements of his hand increased, his grip no less painful.  With his head thrown back, his body bowed as his release neared, memories of that day played out in Technicolor behind his closed lids.  

“Oh, Spike! Of course it's yes!” 

Like a thousand times before, his cock erupted at her breathless words.  He could clearly see the smile on her face, the light in her eyes, just before she launched her lithe frame at him.  And the kiss.  God!  Like sunlight and heaven combined into one.  The hot cavern of her mouth as his tongue plunged inside and dueled with hers threatened to consume him.  As if he’d suddenly burst into flames at her slightest provocation. 

But, it was a death he’d gladly seek.  Over and over, if the truth be told.  For her kisses had been the closest thing to sunlight and heaven he’d ever see. 

With a last stroke of his hand, Spike collapsed against the mattress, reveling in the afterglow of his climax.  Soon, the self-derision would flood his being, and he’d once more curse himself.  And, the Slayer.  Until the cycle replayed itself, and his hand sought to relieve the burgeoning hardness in his pants. 

~*~*~*~*~

The Slayer stood outside his crypt and waited – the tingling sensation skating down her spine screaming loud and clear that a master vampire resided within.  It was the residual “Thy Will Be Done” spell that told her who, specifically, was inside.   

It was none other than Spike.  William the Bloody.  Self-professed Slayer of Slayers. The Big Bad.  And soon to be vamp lover number two.   

Buffy deliberated for several minutes outside the closed door, the internal debate she was having with herself alternately arguing for and against this course of action she’d set up for herself.  In the end, the whispered taunts from her evil side both rationalizing – ‘he probably knows you’re out here so you may as well go inside’ – and cajoling – ‘you know you want to, you’ve been subconsciously thinking about it since Will’s spell’ propelled her feet forward until her hand slammed open the door. 

She managed to catch it before it crashed against the crypt’s inner wall.  As it was, Spike probably heard her moan when the heavy thing smashed her knuckles between it and the unyielding surface of the wall.  If she hadn’t been the Slayer, she probably would have broken several bones in her hand.   Now, she just hopped up and down as she shook her hand to relieve the pain, cursing under her breath as she mumbled “owie” several times. 

Once the pain in her rapped knuckles wore off, she glanced around the barren “home” of Spike’s.  He was nowhere to be seen, yet her Slayer senses told her that he was here.  Her feet shuffled across the dirt floor taking in the pilfered items the master vampire had lifted to make the place seem cozier.  Although, living in a crypt, “cozy” hardly seemed likely.  Yet, it worked for him, and it allayed some of her reservations about getting it on with the evil undead in a dusty crypt. 

Undead.   

Spike. 

She was actually going to do it.   

She was going to let Spike fuck her six ways from Sunday to prove to herself that she could be wild and exciting between the sheets.  That she had the necessary bedroom skills to keep her man.  The fiasco with Faith had her doubting herself. 

But, if she could get Spike – evil, soulless, mortal enemy, master vampire Spike – to want her, to have him make love to her over and over like he couldn’t get enough of her.  Well, then she’d know. 

Buffy moved around the crypt for a few moments before she noticed it.  A trap door, hidden behind a piece of furniture.  She lifted the lid and glanced down, surprised to see a set of stairs that descended to a lower level. 

Taking a deep breath, she climbed down into the darkened abyss, her back to the thunderstruck gaze of the nude vampire sprawled out on top of his bed. 

When she turned around, however, the expression was gone and in its place was the cocksure expression he normally exuded around her and the others.  Buffy missed his look, her eyes locked on to the huge erection he sported, and made no attempts to shield from her devouring gaze.  He smirked as she continued to stare entranced, his sexy brow quirking in that way that continually made her knees weak – although she still vehemently denied it – his arms propped casually beneath his head. 

Then he opened his mouth and spoke, his snarky accented voice doing what his delectably muscled – nude – body could not…  

“Well hello, luv.  Come to give us a kiss, yeah?” 

She walked towards the bed, her fingers furiously working over the buttons and zippers of her clothes as she moved...before she could change her mind. 

~*~*~*~*~

His dumbfounded look was back in full force as he watched the Slayer approach, his jaw hanging open in astonishment as she quickly divested herself of her clothing as she neared.  

He was dreaming.  He had to be.  There was no way the Slayer was walking towards him, pert breasts jiggling slightly as she moved, unencumbered from the restraining bra that had slipped from her fingers just moments before.  Her hardened nipples revealed her heightened desire, just in case his vampiric senses had suddenly left his body and he was no longer able to smell the husky scent of her arousal as it flooded the air in the lower crypt. 

How she managed to walk and chuck her jeans and panties and still manage to ooze sex, he didn’t know.  He just prayed the vision didn’t leave.  That the dream wouldn’t end until after he’d managed to come again.  Right now his cock was hurting almost painfully, and he removed one hand from behind his head to wrap around his erect length. 

Just before his hand reached it, hers was there, and he couldn’t prevent the low groan when the heat of her hand wrapped around his shaft.  He thrust up into her gloved fist… 

…and encountered her moist, hot mouth.   

“Fuck! Slayer…” 

He nearly came right then, like a virginal teenage boy experiencing his first piece of ass.  Frantically, his hands gripped her hair, holding her mouth in place, bucking up into her moist cavern until she’d taken every last bit of him.   

Hell, it was his fantasy; he could be as brutal as he wanted.  Too far gone in his pleasure-induced haze, Spike didn’t notice her fumbling actions, how her enthusiasm to this new experience more than made up for any flaw in her technique.  No, his mind was firmly locked on the heat of her mouth as it seared his flesh. Her tongue as it swirled along the underside of his shaft and teased the protruding veins. Then he wasn’t thinking at all.  Just spilling his seed down her more than willing throat, thrilling as she swallowed all that he spurted into her mouth.  The demonic growl as he called out her name echoed around the small room. 

“Slayer!” 

With a last shudder, his hands slipped from her hair to fall limply to the bed.  He laid there, his face a picture of absolute ecstasy.  

Buffy stared down at Spike’s face, taking note of his relaxed features and silly grin.  She’d done that.  Reduced him to a pile of vampire goo.  She gloried in her power over him, that is, until she felt the throbbing between her legs that begged for some relief.  Her eyes stared fixedly at the instrument that could ease the ache, and remained transfixed as it lengthened and hardened right before her eyes. 

Crawling up the bed, she straddled his legs and sat on his thighs.  Again her hand reached out to grip Spike’s cock, taking time to luxuriate in the hard steel encased in such a silky soft covering.  She was fascinated by the pearly drops that oozed from the slit on the mushroomed head.  Knowing its taste, and somehow craving more, her head lowered so that her tongue could flick out and lap at the dewy drop. 

In the blink of an eye, she found herself flat on her back, one peroxide-headed vampire looming over her.   

“What are you playin’ at, Slayer,” he growled down at her, their noses almost touching as amber-colored eyes bore into hazel. 

She couldn’t answer him, oddly turned on by his sudden show of force and demonic features.  And, it wasn’t like she was going to tell him that she needed to prove to herself that she was good enough in bed to hold a man. 

He’d probably laugh her right out of his crypt. 

Instead, her legs circled his waist, and she brushed her slick curls against his shaft.  The change in his demeanor was instantaneous, and she basked in the weight of his body as his settled on top of hers.  Her arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him to her for a searing kiss, his human mask slipping back into place just before their lips touched.  Mouths open.  Tongues dancing as they explored the inner recesses of first her mouth then his.  Groans mingled as they devoured each other.  Hands roamed over bare flesh almost frantically, until neither could take the teasing any more.  They had to be together.  Joined.  Their bodies moving in that age-old dance of lovers everywhere.  Thoughts became actions and then they were moving.  Harshly.  Violently.  Flesh smacked against flesh.  Fingernails rent skin leaving track marks down arms and backs.  Groans and mindless babbling on both parties spilled from their lips when they weren’t otherwise engaged with kissing and nipping at every available piece of skin within their reach. 

The bed shook with their coupling.  Two superhuman beings that held nothing back as both strove to reach their peak.  Spike had some inkling of his prize having been around for a century plus years, his time with Angelus and the others preparing him for the nirvana his body sought.  But, the Slayer, she was fairly innocent to the ways of the flesh.  Her one time with Angel had left her broken and bruised, subsequently doubting herself after his demon had been released.  Parker was a mistake she’d passed off as a rebound crush and the innocence of a college freshman.  While it had hurt that he’d dumped her as soon as he’d gotten what he’d wanted, she wasn’t devastated like she’d been with Angel.  Riley, for all her preachings of love, just didn’t satisfy her… hadn’t satisfied her. 

Not like Spike was right now. 

And it was beginning to scare her.  He was making her feel too much.  She wasn’t ready for where he would take her… 

She began to struggle slightly, desperate to escape him, the rapture his touch promised to bring.  She couldn’t let him take her there, for then she’d never be able to go back to normal.  She’d be forever stuck in the dark, tied to this vampire that could deliver everything that she’d ever wanted. 

“Too much,” she gasped, trying to break free. 

Spike never slowed his movements as he felt the Slayer push against him.  His hand just slipped between their joined bodies, his thumb pressing lightly against the bundle of nerves begging to be touched. 

“Let it go, Slayer,” he whispered in her ear.  “You want this, your body wants this.  Just feel…” 

His voice grew raspy as he fought off his own orgasm, determined to bring her off before giving in and flooding her womb with his seed.  She stopped fighting him, once more swept away by what he was making her feel.  He could feel her body poised on the brink of tumbling over the edge, her mewling cries music to his ears.  She just needed a little push… 

He lowered his face to her neck, the bones of his face shifting as he eyed the steady pulse in her neck.  He needed to be sure not to hurt her, not wanting a headache to show for his efforts to take the Slayer to the Promised Land.  Concentrating only on the pleasure he’d bring her, he pricked her skin with the tips of his fangs.  When that produced no warning twinges he sunk a little deeper into her flesh.  Then a little deeper until he’d tapped into her artery and her blood flooded his mouth.  Muffling a groan, he took one long pull of her blood as he repeatedly pounded his cock in her sopping quim. 

“God!  Spike!” she cried out just before her body splintered into a million pieces and she convulsed beneath him. 

Above her, Spike tried to ride out the waves of her orgasm.  Tried to prolong the feel of being encased by the Slayer’s velvety heat, her inner muscles squeezing his cock in such bittersweet ecstasy.  But, there was no stopping the inevitable.  Her vaginal muscles continued to clench his shaft, stroking him, coaxing him to join her.  To ride the seemingly endless waves of pleasure enveloping her body.  With one last pull of the sweet nectar that was her Slayer’s blood, he let himself go, spending himself deep within her womb. 

~*~*~*~*~

It was close to dawn when the two lovers collapsed wearily on top of the bed, too weak to grab the silk sheets to cover themselves.  There wasn’t one part of either of their bodies that hadn’t been thoroughly loved, touched, sucked, bit, or kissed in the last several hours.  Their bodies resembled grizzled warriors, the smooth perfection of their flesh marred with bruises, claw marks, scratches and bite marks – both human and demon alike.  They’d discovered that as long as there was no intent to hurt, Spike could bite the Slayer at will as they fucked each other senseless. 

And, Buffy hadn’t minded.  Hadn’t minded anything he’d done to her… 

~*~

“Is it going to hurt?” 

“What do you think?”

“Will I like it?” 

“Oh yeah, baby.  You’ll be beggin’ me for it…” 

Buffy highly doubted it as she knelt on all fours in front of him. Her body tensing automatically when she felt his thumb ghost around her puckered ring.  But, then his other hand came to tease her clit, and she forgot all about that experimenting digit at her back entrance.  Before she knew what had happened, he’d had not one, but two fingers, pressed inside her.  It wasn’t long before she was thrusting back against him as she tried to get his fingers deeper inside her anal passage.  Then his fingers were removed and it was his cock filling her, stretching her, buried so deep inside her… in some place she’d never thought it would be. 

And, god, it felt good. 

After a few tentative thrusts she was slamming back against him, delighting in the pleasurable pain as he pounded into her ass. She bit her lip to keep from screaming as his thumb worked her clit, three fingers buried in her pussy and striking a counterpoint cadence to his cock as it plowed her other hole.  There was no way in hell she was going to last long with that kind of stimulation, and moments later she screamed her release.  The name of her lover yelled loud enough to bring down the rafters, if indeed a crypt were to have them. 

Spike removed his fingers from her grasping channel and latched both hands on to her hips.  He set up a brutal pace, thrusting into her ass while her inner walls kept up their endless contractions on his burgeoning length. 

He didn’t know why he did it, why he marked her neck like he’d just done with the virgin territory of her ass.  But, after many hours spent taking her any way and every way he could, his demon refused to let her slip away without some kind of hold on her.  His fangs elongated and struck at her neck, right over the marks left by his grandsire and the master, obliterating them in one fell swoop.  That the chip hadn’t turned his brain to mush at the blatant trespass was confounding, but he didn’t dwell on the thought long, just bit deeper as he muttered his possessive “mine” while he drank deeply of her blood – spurting his seed in her abused channel as her second orgasm triggered his. 

The Slayer collapsed beneath him, too sated to do nothing more than hug the pillow as she fell into a deep slumber, thus enabling him to slip from her body as he fell back on his haunches before tumbling forward beside her.  His demon elated that this golden goddess was now his, Spike spooned against her backside and pulled her pliant form back into his arms.  She snuggled willingly and trustingly in his embrace, and there was nothing to stop the contented purring that emanated from his chest. 

~*~*~*~*~

Angelus stared down at the bruised and bloodied bodies of the blonds sleeping so trustingly on the bed.  The scent of blood and sex damn near overwhelmed the place and he struggled to bring his demon under control. 

He was angry, and rightfully so.  First, he’d had to escape LA after being bluffed by Cordelia-Fucking-Chase of the blessed bottled water.  Both she and that pretty boy watcher had told him that he’d been drugged.  That he’d only be free for a little while.  So, he’d come here.  To Sunnydale.  To once and for all pay back that blonde Slayer bitch that had sent him to hell. 

Only, he’d spent the better part of the night hovering outside her bedroom window, waiting for her return.  He would have spent that time in her room, but he’d come across the invisible barrier and almost fallen off the roof.  That had only increased his ire.  Now, with the sun nearing the horizon, and not sure how much long he’d be him – Angelus – he’d resorted to tracking her scent in the various cemeteries she patrolled. 

He’d gotten lucky at the first one he’d come to, unknowingly choosing the one that was home to Spike.  When he’d stopped outside the crypt, smelling the combined scent of the two, he’d nearly howled his rage.  That the boy had dared…  

Glancing away from the slumbering lovebirds, he searched the lower level for some sturdy chains. 

They were going to pay, these two.   

He smothered a grin as he manacled first one and then the other to the steel bolts placed on the wall near the headboard and on the floor at the foot of the bed.  Satisfied that neither would be able to escape his handiwork, he moved off to sit in the chair overlooking the bed.  Enacting perfect precision, he stripped out of his clothes and treated himself to a quick hand job while he watched the pair.  With as long as he’d been celibate, wouldn’t do for him to pop his load prematurely before he’d had his fun. 

Angelus chuckled evilly as his cock erupted over his hand and stomach, his gaze pinned on the bed and the immobile vampire that woke instantly to the scent of Sire.  He thrilled at the fear that rushed through the younger vamp’s body as his hand pumped every last trace of come from his shaft. 

“Will, me boy, so good of you to join me.” 

‘Oh fuck,’ Spike thought as he stared at the maniacal light in his grandsire’s eyes.  Cussing couldn’t even begin to convey his feelings when he realized both he and the Slayer were bound tight upon the bed. 

~*~*~*~*~

Spike struggled against the chains as he saw Angelus rise and make his way towards them.  Beside him, the Slayer slept on, oblivious to the threat – worn out by their recent extracurricular activities that hadn’t let up until about an hour ago.  He would have been sleeping the sleep of the dead, as well, but the call of Sire had been overwhelming…and nothing, short of dust, would be able to keep him from responding to its lure. 

Even as his grandsire stalked towards where they lay upon the bed, he couldn’t help the reluctant admiration of his sire’s naked form.  He licked his lips, in anticipation, or dread – he wasn’t quite sure.  The last time he’d been around his sire – his true sire, and not the souled up wanker version that had been around for the last century or so – he’d been confined to a wheelchair, and Angelus had been more concerned with rutting with Drusilla than being bothered with the likes of a crippled vampire.  Instead, he’d been left on the outside, unable to join in their frequent familial bonding. 

Then, Angelus had been sent off to hell, and by the delectable creature slumbering so peacefully beside him.  And, Spike had put away his traitorous thoughts of being angry that he’d been left out. Cast aside. 

He’d gotten used to being the alpha vamp.  Even if he still had a chip in his head.  Seeing Angelus now, knowing what he was capable of, sent a shiver of fear down his spine.  He couldn’t be happy, knowing that Spike had trespassed where Angelus had once laid claim – even if the vamp in question had discarded her like so much rubbish.   

Spike watched the evil glare Angelus gifted the Slayer and tried to deflect his anger towards him. 

“So, Peaches, what brings you to town?”   

The disrespectful nickname worked, and he practically trembled as Angelus swung his amber gaze to him. 

“You’d do well not to piss me off more than you already have, boy.” 

“I’m jus’ sayin’.  Last time I heard, you were all souled up and makin’ with the caped crusader act in LA.  Whatsa’ matter?  Someone give you a ‘appy and now you’re back in Sunnydale terrorizin’ li’l bunnies.” 

Spike knew he was going to pay for that, and sure enough, he let out a furious roar as Angelus dug his claw into his thigh.  The pain-filled shout woke the Slayer from her sleep, only instead of scrambling into a defensive battle crouch, she could only struggle in vain against her bonds. 

Her head swiveled towards Spike, trying to discover what it was that had caused him to cry out in pain, and encountered the form of her ex-lover.  Only it wasn’t him.  Knew right away that it was the other one.  The one without a soul.  Angelus. 

“How?” she managed to gasp out, her mind in denial that he was back.  Had the two of them trussed up like pigs for the slaughter. 

“Oh, don’t worry.  My stay here is only temporary…courtesy of a little ‘happy’ pill someone gave me.”  He sneered at the two when their anxious expressions eased slightly. “But, I’m sure I can have a lot of fun before I’m tucked back in my cage, so to speak.” 

He chuckled once again at the fear he sensed, removing his claw from Spike’s thigh, leaving it to bleed, no longer finding fun in torturing his grandchilde if he wasn’t going to scream.  His human mask slipped over his features and he glanced down at the bruised body of the Slayer.  He’d denied all emotions she’d made him feel, their one time together remembered more by Angel than Angelus, but as he stared at her pert breast, marred with several bite marks, the two mounds rising and lowering in an increasing pace as she watched him, he couldn’t help but admire her body. 

They’d probably been perfect together, the two blonds. Slight of build, her tanned body against his pale. Their bodies straining against one another as they fucked their way towards orgasm.  And, with Spike there’d been fangs.  All that glorious Slayer blood, just his for the taking. It was something that he wished he’d been able to see… 

Walking around the bed towards her prone form, his cool hand trailed a path along her leg and thigh, skimming over her abdomen, then cupping her breast.   

Her eyes closed and she gritted her teeth, determined to ignore his presence.  Beside her, she could hear Spike growl, the possessive note not lost on her.  After their night together, the thought of someone else’s hands on her just… 

Even if it was him. 

But it wasn’t.  Angelus, she reminded herself.  This was Angelus.  Evil vampire.  No soul, no feelings.  The one that had told her she wasn’t worth another go.  His cold, unfeeling eyes bearing no hint of the one-time lover she’d cared so much about. 

The Slayer opened her eyes, her distain evident.  The growling beside her had steadily increased in volume, and she turned her head towards him.  Her fellow captive.  The blond-headed vampire lover she’d spent the night with, getting intimately acquainted with his body.  Expression softening, she tried to convey with her eyes that whatever being done to her, may be done to her, wouldn’t affect their time together.   

“What’s this?  Don’t tell me my boy has gone and fallen in love with the Slayer!” Angel crowed in delight.   

“Sod off, you wanker!” 

Angelus ignored him, his hand leaving the Slayer’s breast to grip her chin and forcing her to look at him.  “Let’s hope the Slayer hasn’t made the same mistake.”  His dark eyes bore into hers.  “Tell me, Buff.  Think our William here has what it takes to lure you from me? Everyone knows its Angel you love.  Isn’t that right?” 

“Shut up, Angelus.  Spike is twice the vampire you’ll ever be,” Buffy taunted, ignoring the dig of his fingers as they tightened on her jaw.  Brazenly, she went on, “Cuz, have to say…at least Spike knows how to please a woman.  And stamina…has it in spades.  Spent the whole night getting me off…” 

His outraged growl reverberated throughout the lower level of the crypt, his demon incensed that she would dare chose the blond-headed vamp over him and that his childe had dared to covet what was rightfully his.  His twisted logic ignored the fact that he wanted no part of her, or the feelings she’d caused his souled self to feel.  Like a two year old with a discarded toy, he was determined to reclaim his property. 

Ignoring the struggles and shouts of vengeance and rage from the bound vampire as he realized his intent, Angelus climbed up on the bed, positioned himself between her legs and rammed home. His hips pumped against her furiously, his hard cock stabbing inside her abused hole.  He neither noticed nor cared about the dryness of her pussy, the lack of a smooth glide as he repeatedly penetrated her with his girth. 

Buffy lay still and silent beneath him, determined not to cry out or shed a tear as he raped her.  She turned her head towards the snarling and struggling vampire, blood leaking from his wrists unheeded as he tried in vain to break the chains holding him prisoner.  Suddenly her rapist stiffened above her, his body twitching slightly as he let out a hoarse groan.   She just breathed a sigh of relief that it was over for now. 

~*~*~*~*~

“Buffy?” 

Oh god…not that voice.  She didn’t think she could hold back her tears if she had to hear that voice right now.  The loud crack as the bolt holding Spike’s chains gave way saved her from having to deal just yet; the younger vampire sat up swinging, the force of Spike’s fist as it connected with elder vampire’s jaw as he knelt between her parted legs was enough to send Angel back off the end of the bed.   

With his hands now free, Spike scrambled to the bottom of the bed to easily snap the bolt that held his leg chains.  Then he attacked.  The length of chain between his arms and legs no hindrance as he kicked and punched his grandsire.  In a haze of blind rage, he never noticed that his opponent didn’t fight back.  Possessed with a need to enact revenge, he continued his assault upon Angel, his still form just reacting to the blows as they landed. 

“Spike?” Buffy called out softly.  She really wanted to get out of her chains.  Just curl up into a ball and forget the last hour had ever existed. 

His demon receded and Spike turned concerned blue eyes towards the Slayer.  Seeing her bound spread eagle on the bed, unshed tears shimmering in her eyes… 

“Get me out of these things please.”  Her head flopped back on the pillows.  The tears she’d been unable to hold back fell silently from her closed eyes, gravity pulling them in a straight line to disappear into her hair.  She heard noises as Spike moved about the room searching for the key, heard the clank of metal as his manacles fell open and clattered to the floor.  Then he was at her feet, gently grasping each limb to release her from her bonds. 

She started shaking even before he finished with her arms, her shock having worn off.  As the adrenaline left her body, she gave in to her weeping, curling on her side as her legs drew up to huddle in a fetal position on a small portion of the huge bed. 

Spike was beside himself.  Seeing the Slayer cry like that made him want to find a stake and shove it deep into his grandsire’s unbeating heart.  But, he couldn’t leave her like this.  Wouldn’t leave her.  Crawling back upon the bed, he gripping the Slayer’s arms, pulling her close as he settled the covers around their nude bodies.  He held her to him, soothing her as she cried, thrilling that she was allowing him to comfort her.  His lips ghosted over her forehead, kisses of reassurance for both him and her that she was safe now.  That he wouldn’t let any harm come to her. 

They finally drifted off in a fitful sleep, uncaring of the unconscious vampire on the floor at their feet.  His bruised and bloodied body too small a price to pay for what he’d done. 

~*~*~*~*~

Spike woke suddenly; the Slayer was moaning and thrashing in her sleep as he held her close, obviously stuck in some nightmare.  Only not a nightmare.  A memory.  And, a painful one at that. 

“Slayer,” he called out softly, trying to wake her. 

Her thrashing increased, a mumbled “no” escaping her lips, the anguish in that one word making him regret not killing the poofter. 

“Slayer…wake up.  You’re having a nightmare.”  He was shaking her now, desperate to pull her back to him.  To consciousness.  “Buffy.  Come on, luv.  Open those beautiful eyes and look at me.” 

“Spike?” 

“Yeah, tha’s it, baby.  Spike’s here. I got ya…” 

“Oh god…” She launched herself at him, desperate to get as close as she could.  Her arms locked around his back, crushing his body to hers.  He could feel as the shaking consumed her, delayed residual effects of her dream.  Her face buried in his chest, it was a wonder she could breathe. 

“It’s ok…’m here, luv.”  His fingers combed through her hair as he tried to ease her distress. 

“I can’t…can’t get him off me,” she whimpered against his chest.  “I can’t forget…make me forget, Spike.  Please?” 

“Buffy…” 

He leaned back slightly so he could look down at her tear-streaked face.  Seeing the look in her eyes, he was lost.  His head lowered, lips settling over hers in a gentle caress.  At her slight moan, his cock sprang to life, nudging her stomach as they lay on their sides.  His lips moved over hers, nibbling at them until they parted, allowing his tongue entrance.  Pace unhurried, he traced the contours of her mouth before retreating, coaxing her to follow and explore his own.  He thrilled at her first tentative movements, then groaned in pleasure as her actions grow bolder. 

One hand left her hair to seek out her breast, molding and kneading the plump flesh as his thumb brushed back and forth across her nipple.  She arched into his touch, filling his hand with her ample flesh.  He broke the kiss and bent down to take her offering into his mouth, laving his tongue around her puckered nipple  

“Spike,” she hissed.  Breath leaving her in a rush of sensation. 

His hand slid lower as his mouth continued to tease, sliding over the moist nest of curls and parting her outer folds.  He breathed a silent sigh of relief when her legs parted for him without hesitation, allowing him greater access to the area that had been recently ravaged by his grandsire. His finger moved up and down along her slit, the teasing motion coating his digit with her desire.  When he thought she was near mindless with need, he slipped it inside her wet quim.  

“You like that, pet,” he asked as he released her nipple from his lavish attentions. His teeth clenched as her inner walls clasped around his finger, and he struggled against replacing it with his cock and burying himself deep inside her body.  He had to go slow, to wipe away the memory of Angel’s brutal possession.   

He’d take his time even if it killed him. 

“Spike…please…” 

“What’s that, pet?  More?  How’s this?” he asked, slipping a second finger to join the first.  His eyes watched her face for any sign of pain. Any fear or revulsion.  All he saw was her body’s willing response to her desire.  Her face flushed, lips parted, eyes slightly closed and filled with lust. 

“Yessssss…feels…good,” she managed to choke out. 

“Sure, pet?”  At her vigorous nod, he chuckled lightly. “More?” 

He knew the answer already, his fingers slick with her juices as he pumped them in and out of her pussy. 

“N-need you…” she gasped out.  Her hand reached between them and grasped his shaft, pumping it a few times to convey her meaning.  She rolled to her back, urging him to follow, her legs parting automatically as he shifted between them. 

Spike pulled his fingers out and positioned himself at her opening.  Bracing himself on his forearms, he looked down at her flushed face; he could see the tremors of unease as his body loomed over hers. 

“Look at me, luv,” he urged. Her eyes opened, hazel gaze locking with blue.  Uncertainty and a trace of fear, combined with an overwhelming desire.  “Do you want me to stop?” 

‘God, I can’t believe I said that!  Please, don’t say yes.’ 

“No.  Make love to me, Spike.  Make me forget his touch.” 

Her hips lifted invitingly, the movement causing the tip of his cock to slip inside her velvety heat. 

“Cor, Buffy…”   

He slid inside her, inch by agonizing inch.  Teeth clenched, eyes closed tight in ecstasy as her heat gloved his cock, taking him all in.  Home.   

Her legs lifted and wrapped around his back as they began to rock together.  Their movements unhurried.  Hands roamed lightly over exposed flesh, gentle kisses were shared.  A slow pressure began to build between them.  It was the journey they craved, not the end result, both tamping down the urge to move faster, harder.  Just being connected as they were, the slow gliding of flesh on flesh was enough.  Her rape at the hands of Angelus was purged from her body and mind, to be replaced by this. 

This overwhelming act of love. 

Their climax caught them both by surprise.  A long and steady wave of euphoria that wrapped itself around the two lovers as they continued to love one another, until the last shudder left their bodies.   

And even then their bodies couldn’t stop dancing… 

When he felt her calm beneath him, he slipped from her body and rolled to his back, pulling the Slayer to lie on top of him.  They lay like that for several hours – her sleeping, him holding and caressing, fingers running lightly over her back beneath the sheet draped over their bodies. 

~*~

A brief pause in his caress was the only indication he gave that he’d felt his grandsire’s eyes upon him.  He spoke softly so as not to wake the Slayer, knowing the elder vampire could hear him. 

“I suggest you leave before she wakes up.  Get out of Sunnydale and go back to LA.” 

“Spike, I’m—” 

“Don’t you dare say you’re bloody sorry!  Sorry’s no’ gonna cut it with what you did to her.” 

Angel hung his head, know what Spike said was true.  Sorry never would be enough.  He climbed wearily to his feet, body aching from the beating he’d received at the hands of the younger vampire.  A beating he rightly deserved.  He didn’t look at the figures lying peacefully upon the bed, too ashamed to meet the gaze of the younger vamp that watched his every move.  He stepped into his trousers, slipping into his shoes as he pulled on his shirt.  Not bothering to button it, he jammed his arms in his jacket and made his way towards the ladder in the corner of the room. 

With his hands on the rungs, he glanced over to where Spike lay, noticing the tension in his frame as if he were waiting for Angelus to make another appearance.  Angel’s shoulders drooped, guilt filling his being at yet another reminder of the evil barely contained within him. 

“I’ll…you’ll look after her?” he asked softly. 

“With my life.  If I see you again…Angel…Angelus…doesn’t matter…I’ll kill you.” 

Angel nodded at his promise, his vow, then turned and made his way up the ladder, across the upper level of the crypt and out into the night. 

Downstairs, Spike finally relaxed.  The familial bond as the distance between him and Angel increased, fading.  His arms tightened about the Slayer at their close call.  Considering the nature of Angelus, they’d gotten off fairly lucky.  He was just grateful the pills Angel had ingested had worked their way through his system so fast and he’d quickly become the brooding poof, complete with guilt-ridden soul. 

He lay there in bed, beside the slumbering form of the Slayer – now claimed by him – and held her close.  He didn’t know where this thing he had with the Slayer was heading, but what he’d told his grandsire was true. 

He would look after her.  

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