Made by spikeshunny

Day 8 

Buffy noticed Spike’s withdrawn behavior and realized suddenly that she’d not seen any more blood containers in the refrigerator when she’d gotten something to eat earlier.  In fact, now that she thought about it, she’d not recalled seeing anything that morning either. 

Which meant that the last time he’d fed had been almost twenty-four hours ago. 

“Spike?” she called out. 

“Not now, Slayer.” 

“Spike, I think you should—” 

“Not NOW, Slayer,” he snarled. 

He lifted his head to glare at her, and Buffy gasped at seeing his vamped features.   

After their first battle, right after being locked inside the club, he’d suppressed the demon.  That he appeared to be losing control of his human mask was a huge indicator that his bloodlust was starting to take hold. 

Buffy moved closer, ignoring his growls.  He didn’t back away from her, which she considered a good sign. 

She knelt down beside him and put her wrist in front of his face.   

“Here…” 

Spike stared at the Slayer through amber colored eyes.  His fangs itched to take what she was freely offering.  But, in the state he was in, he’d probably drain her dry before she could kick him off – not that the protection spell would have let him anyway. 

To be tempted with a taste of her blood, though unintentionally… 

He growled again and pushed the Slayer away from his side.  His tone caustic as he yelled at her. 

“Get away from me, Slayer.  It’s bad enough ’m hungry.  You don’t have to tease a bloke with what he can’t have.” 

He stood up and retreated to the shadows.  Far away from her… and the sound of her elevated pulse ringing in his ears. 

Away from temptation. 

Buffy stared at Spike’s retreating back.  She’d forgotten about the protection spell – their whole reason for being locked inside the club in the first place. 

She had to do something.  Who knew how much longer they were going to be trapped inside.  Without Spike being able to feed, it was just a matter of time before he lost control completely.  And, she rather doubted that the protection spell would be enough to keep him away from her indefinitely. 

Determined, Buffy stood up and strode purposely into the kitchen.  She grabbed a knife out of one of the drawers and walked back to Spike, who was now crouched in another corner.  Her heart was beating wildly in her chest; fear, nervousness… and some other unnamed emotion jumbling around inside her as she once more knelt before the vampire. 

She drew the blade across her wrist before she could talk herself out of it.  He needed to feed, if only a few mouthfuls.  And, if he couldn’t bite her... lapping at her blood as it gushed from her vein was the next best thing. 

Buffy just prayed it worked. 

“Spike,” she called out – unnecessarily. 

The second the scent of her blood hit the air, Spike had zeroed in on the source.  It had been awhile since he’d smelt the delicious tang that was Slayer blood.  But, he hadn’t forgotten.   

He leaned towards the Slayer’s bloody wrist, licking his lips in anticipation.  It wouldn’t take much to slake his developing bloodlust.  Hell, it would probably take nothing more than a few sips. 

There was a trail of blood running down her arm towards her elbow.  Spike snagged her hand and brought her arm closer to his mouth.  Buffy ended up sprawled in his lap at the unexpected move; not that he noticed.  His eyes were staring intently at the line of blood dribbling from her wrist. 

Finally his tongue darted out and lapped at the crimson liquid.  Practically purring in pleasure as it hit his tongue.  He licked the blood clean from her arm then closed his mouth on the gash she’d made. 

The sweetest ambrosia, it was.  Made more so as it was freely given.  His eyes closed, and a blissful purr erupted from his chest.  His demon faded beneath his human mask. 

Spike took only a handful of swallows – more than enough to quench his thirst and then some.  He ran his tongue over the cut, stemming the flow.  For added measure, he shrugged out of his red shirt and wrapped the sleeve around her wrist. 

“Damn fool stunt you just pulled, Slayer,” he grunted after a time, but the way he held her in his arms afterwards belied his blunt tone. 

Her eyes were closed, her head resting softly against his shoulder.  She couldn’t help smiling at his disgruntled tone. 

“Worked didn’t it?” 

“You could have been killed…” 

“Not with the protection spell.  But, if you’d gone another day or two without feeding, it may not have.” 

“I… thanks.”  The words were rusty from disuse. 

“You’re welcome.”  Her voice was low, barely above a whisper. 

Spike coughed to cover his unease; they were treading in some dangerous waters, the two of them.  Both of them behaving as anything other than mortal enemies.  Than Slayer and Vampire. 

They needed to stop.  To get back to the status quo. 

And soon. 

Before he did something he might regret. 

“Come on, pet.  Time for all Slayers to be tucked into bed.” 

Something like that… 

Spike lifted the Slayer off of his lap and stood up, steering her back towards the couch.  He stripped down to his jeans and stretched out on his side on the couch.  His arms closed around her once she lay down in front of him.  

Oh yeah… he was royally buggered. 

Bloody hell. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Day 9 

Buffy woke at dawn.  She knew it was morning because the news was playing on the television with the time broadcasted on the bottom ticker.  No sound could be heard, however.  Spike had gotten in the habit of putting it on mute before falling asleep so that the noise wouldn’t wake her. 

Snuggled in his arm, she smiled softly at his thoughtfulness. 

As was her morning custom, she got up, careful not to disturb the slumbering vamp, and made her way to the ladies’ room.  With more than a week now passed since she’d had a proper shower, Buffy was sure she looked a fright and she determinedly ignored the mirror as she washed her hands. 

Which was what drew her attention to her wrist. 

Buffy paused, mid scrub, staring at the faint mark she’d made. 

She’d willingly cut herself for him. 

And she’d trusted him to do no more than drink what he’d needed to take the edge off his hunger.  He had, too.  Far sooner than what she’d expected, in fact. 

It hit her then. 

She actually trusted him.  Trusted him not to hurt her.  That if they were able to get free from whatever it was keeping them locked inside and they encountered each other in the future, he wouldn’t hurt her. 

Her eyes flew to the mirror, to see for herself what her mind – her heart – was already telling her.  It was staring her back in the face.  Eyes alight with the knowledge. 

She trusted Spike, her mortal enemy. 

And her trust in him was not unfounded. 

The weight of that knowledge slammed into her gut, and she gripped the sink to remain upright. 

Then another, stronger feeling tore through her body. 

And she knew. 

The spell had been lifted. 

If she were to walk out of the bathroom right now and try the door… it would open. 

Part of her wanted to do just that, flee her prison and the vampire that made her question who and what she was – and what she knew to be true about demons.  But the other part, the part of her that was secure in her newfound knowledge, wanted to stay there for a while longer. 

When Spike wasn’t being a pain in the ass, he was an alright companion.  He’d definitely found ways to relieve her boredom the last several days.  Though, there were times she’d wanted nothing more than to string him up and stake him in his undusty parts until he promised to stop with his deliberate tormenting of her.   

She realized now he’d invited her anger to keep her from dwelling on her mom.  Which she surely would have done if given half the chance.   

Spike hadn’t let her. 

It was like he knew her.  Knew what she was feeling.  

Buffy could feel tears forming in her eyes.  Why?  Why now?  Just once couldn’t she have some normalcy in her life? 

She finished washing her hands and retrieved the red shirt she’d removed from her wrist before closing herself in one of the stalls. 

As she walked back towards Spike, she wondered if she should wake him… or let him sleep.   

In the end, she took the coward’s route.  She did leave him a brief note, explaining that the spell had been broken, but not why it had.  Buffy left it where he would be sure to find it upon waking and tiptoed up the steps and slipped silently from the club. 

His red shirt balled in her hand.  The three stones that had started it all, tucked in her pocket. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

After over a week spent away from the sun, it took her eyes a while to adjust to the bright light.  She stood just outside the club door, resisting every impulse that told her to turn around and go back to Spike. 

She almost caved, but then thoughts of her mother intruded, and she lifted her chin and walked out of the alley.   

Back to her life. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Day 10 

She’d stayed in that first night, claiming fatigue to her watcher as her reason for not patrolling.  He’d quickly agreed and Buffy had retreated to her room. 

Her dreams troubled that night as she lay alone in bed.

Both he and her mom had been at home when she’d arrived yesterday morning.  Her mother had been ecstatic at her return – laughing, crying, and questioning her whereabouts all at once. 

Buffy had led her mother to the couch and explained briefly what had happened.  She didn’t mention Spike other than to say that he’d been locked inside with her and that neither could harm the other.   

Especially with her watcher staring at her so intently. 

It was bad enough Angel was in their lives.  Giles would have had a full blown panic attack if she’d attempted to explain the past week and a half in any greater detail…or the reason for her suddenly being free. 

He’d accepted her story readily enough, especially when she pulled the ace out of her sleeve. 

Yay for the return of her period.  Not to mention her desperate need of a shower. 

She’d left him in the living room, furiously wiping away at his lenses, barely suppressing the urge to call out “period, period, period,” as she climbed the stairs. 

Spike would have appreciated her humor. 

When she’d finally emerged from the bathroom feeling more like her former self, the man had been gone and her mother had two cups of cocoa waiting on the coffee table. 

They’d settled next to each other on the couch, and Buffy had told her mom about being the Slayer.  

Not that the elder Summers didn’t already know, Giles had informed her of his spill-age. Joyce had just wanted to hear it from her daughter’s perspective. 

So, Buffy told her about everything.  From the moment she’d been called until she’d returned this morning.  She left nothing out – again, except for the more intimate details about Spike. 

Afterwards, her mom had held her.  It had been nice.  Comforting. 

Almost like— 

‘Don’t think about him,’ she silently berated herself as she walked through the cemetery on the lookout for newly-risen fledglings.   

But it was hard.  Because the blond vampire was never far from her mind. 

Then he was there before her, and she could do nothing but stand there as he slowly stalked towards her. 

She could tell that he was mad by the way he moved.  That, and the ridges and fangs that were prominent on his face.  Amber eyes boring into her. 

Yeah, pissed might be a bit of an understatement. 

Buffy didn’t flinch when Spike stopped before her, yanking her hair and baring her throat to his gaze.  She trusted him; he wouldn’t hurt her.  Even if he didn’t realize it yet.  She heard him growl and felt his fangs hovering over her skin.  A second.  Two.  Five. 

Her heart was pounding in her chest, but she didn’t fight him. 

“Why can’t I do it?” Spike finally murmured against her skin.   

His lips teased her neck, and Buffy couldn’t suppress a moan.  By all rights, she should be fighting him off.  He was a vampire, and was just seconds away from sinking his fangs into her flesh.  Yet, she just stood there – well, more like leaned heavily against him. 

Waiting to see what he’d do. 

Knowing that whatever it was…he wouldn’t hurt her. 

His lips crashed down onto hers, and Buffy gasped. 

Spike took advantage of the noise, thrusting his tongue into her mouth in a show of ownership, of possession, leaving Buffy holding on for dear life.   

One vague thought that came to mind before her brain shut down and her body took over was that Angel didn’t have anything on Spike when it came to kissing. Spike wasn’t afraid to let his emotions get the better of him, and she could easily feel his lust, his passion… his need for her. 

She moaned his name once he relinquished his hold on her lips, his mouth now off to explore other areas.  Her ear.  Her throat. 

Now fully awake, she could better appreciate his cool lips teasing the skin there. 

Another gasp. 

He’d bitten her.  Fangs penetrating her throat ever so slowly.   

She mewled and rubbed herself against him.  At any other time, she would have been shocked by her behavior.  But, all that she could think of was that he was right. 

A vampire’s bite could be quite stimulating.   

At least Spike’s bite could.  She doubted she’d ever perform a case study analysis.   

Heck, the way he was making her feel, he could cheerfully drain her dry and she’d do nothing to stop him.   

Except maybe beg him for more… 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Her fingers probed at the marks on her neck, and she frowned up at him. 

“Couldn’t bite me a little lower, huh?” she asked, her tone resigned.  “Just had to do it where everyone would see…” 

Spike grinned, eyes alight with mischief, and Buffy could only shake her head at his boyish antics. 

“What can I say, pet?  ‘m evil.” 

Buffy laughed, though the sound was hollow.  The light dimming from her eyes. 

He may save her, but he was right.  Spike was evil.  As evidenced by the skin still flushed from his recent kill.  And not because of the blood he’d taken from her. 

He had to go, no matter that he wouldn’t hurt her.  She couldn’t have him killing in her town.  Not without being forced to do something about it. 

“Yeah… You are,” she quietly agreed.  “Leave Spike.  Take Drusilla and just go… please.” 

It was the ‘please’ that made him bite back his retort.  Berating himself for a sap, he looked into her sad eyes and nodded. 

“Alright, luv.” 

He pulled her close and the two clung to one another.  Both knowing how wrong it was to do so.   

What they were doing, how they were behaving, just wasn’t done. 

Ever. 

She was the warrior of light.  The killer of his kind. 

He was the prince of darkness. 

Finally, Spike pulled back and looked down at the Slayer.   

“I had you first, Slayer. Never forget that.” 

He kissed her lips.  A goodbye kiss.  Devoid of the passion, the desperation, they’d exhibited earlier, before he’d bitten her.  Then he kissed the marks he’d left on her neck. 

She felt that all the way to her soul. 

He stepped away from her, and Buffy willed herself to remain upright, to not reach out for him and beg him to stay. 

He turned away and disappeared into the night. 

She knew he would take Drusilla and leave.   

Because even now, he was trying to save her. 

Her eyes burned from tears that refused to fall in the wake of his disappearance from her life. 

“I won’t, Spike,” she whispered softly.  “I won’t.”

The End

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