Chapter 1
Spike was on his way home from the Bronze. He had hoped that Buffy would show; however, to his disappointment, she didn’t make an appearance. As he left the Bronze he noticed a tall dark haired vampire feeding off of a small blonde girl. His first thought was to just go home and ignore the vampire draining the girl in front of him. *What would Buffy say, mate, if she knew you let the silly bint die?*
“Oh bloody hell,” he muttered to himself. *I’m such a soddin’ poof. Trying to earn bleedin’ brownie points with a girl who’ll never give me the soddin’ time of day.* He had made his way over to the dark haired vampire, producing a stake from his waist band. *Look at you, mate, you’re carrying a soddin’ stake with you, and one of the Slayer’s stakes at that.* With that thought, Spike swiftly rammed the stake into the vampires back.
As the stake embedded into the dark haired vampire, he released his hold on the petite blonde girl he was feeding from, allowing her to fall lifelessly to the ground. He then turned to see who had the gall to interrupt this moment, only to see his own grandchilde standing behind him with a stake in his hand.
“Spi...” Angelus managed to croak out before he turned to dust.
For the first time Spike saw who the vampire in the alley was. “Angelus?” was all he could whisper as he watched his grandsire turned to dust before him.
Spike was stunned. *Angelus, bloody hell! That was Angelus, mate, your bleedin’ grandsire, what the hell is he doing back here in Sunnyhell? Why the hell was the poof feeding off a girl outside of the Bronze? What happened to his bleedin’ soul?* All these thoughts raced through Spike’s mind until his attention was turned to the girl from whom Angelus had been feeding.
“Buffy!” he gasped. “Oh my god! Buffy, its okay, luv, its okay, I’ll get you to the hospital.” Spike quickly gathered up the near-unconscious Slayer and started to run through the dark streets towards the hospital.
As he looked down at the petite girl he was carrying in his arms, he knew it was too late. “OH GOD, BUFFY, DON’T DO THIS TO ME! FIGHT DAMN IT! YOU’RE THE BLOODY SLAYER, YOU’RE STRONGER THAN THIS!” His voice filled with anguish as he held onto his love. “I can’t lose you, please fight for me, luv.”
It was no use, it was too late. Spike was faced with two choices, neither of which he wished to make. He could simply let his Slayer, his love, his Buffy die... or he could turn her, make her like him, a vampire. The decision was clear. He laid Buffy softly on the ground and bit into his wrist allowing his blood to run free, then lowered his bloody wrist to the Slayer’s mouth.
Buffy resisted the offer, lazily shaking her head in protest until the coppery taste of the potent blood filled her mouth. Suddenly, with the last remains of her strength, she grabbed Spike’s wrist, holding it as close as possible to her mouth as she hungrily drank the strong nectar that was being offered.
Spike could not believe the force that the Slayer was using, almost draining him dry before he could remove his wrist from her tight grasp. Buffy moaned in protest of having the powerful liquid taken away from her.
“That’s enough for now, luv. You need to get some rest.”
Spike weakly pulled himself to a sitting position next to Buffy. He couldn’t believe she had almost drained him. Admittedly he had allowed her to feed a lot longer than normal, and under normal circumstances a vampire usually would have just had drained the blood from the victim, hence giving them more blood to offer to their childe.
That’s what Buffy was, his childe. Not a minion, not some snivelling twit that would have to grovel and kiss his feet if he desired her to , no--she would be strong and stand by his side, powerful and confident. Anything less simply was not acceptable. She was his love, his equal, his childe, his everything, simply his.
Spike watched the Slayer take her last breath and die in his arms. It broke his heart to watch, but he couldn’t let her die alone. He knew she was not dead as in the traditional sense, but he could not be sure as what to expect when the Slayer awoke. There was every possibility she could be a ticking time bomb of mass destruction waiting to go off. Who knows what strength and power this former Slayer now vampire could hold in her tiny hands.
Spike didn’t care about any of this, as long as his Buffy was alive or as the case may be undead. He simply could not go on without seeing her every day.
Another horrible thought entered his mind. What if she blamed him for her change? What if she refused to see him ever again?
“I guess I’ll have to cross that bridge when I reach it,” Spike muttered to himself and bent down to pick up the lifeless body of the former Slayer.
He carried Buffy’s limp body into his crypt, laying her softly on his bed. He then proceeded to sit on the chair next to her and wait for her to rise as a fledgling vampire.
As he sat watching Buffy’s lifeless body he started to think of a few things that he would need in preparation to her waking. First she would be hungry when she wakes up, so he’d have to get her some blood. However, he was at a crossroads as to what he should have to offer her. If he offered her a live meal, would she be happy or furious? After a bit of thought, Spike decided that blood bags would be the best way to go; for one, how was he going to get a live meal for her with this soddin’ chip in his head? He didn’t think he could politely ask someone to come to his crypt so he could feed them to his childe...
~*~~*~~*~
After a quick trip to Willy’s, Spike had enough blood to feed an army of fledglings. “I guess I went a little overboard,” he muttered to himself as he packed the blood into his tiny fridge.
The next thing he needed was shackles. Who knows what kind of a mood Buffy could be in when she woke? She might have to be restrained. He quickly rummaged around his crypt, finally locating several sets of shackles. After all, he might have to restrain her legs as well. *No use taking any chances. I better check that she can’t find anything sharp, wooden & pointy,* he thought as he attached the shackles to the bed, two at the head of the bed and two at the foot. He did not place Buffy’s wrists or ankles in the shackles yet; he didn’t want to restrain her unless necessary.
~*~~*~~*~
*Four hours, it’s only been four hours. It seems more like four days,* Spike thought to himself as he watched Buffy. *So still. I’ve never seen her so still. Not even when she sleeps is she this still.* He should know, he’d watched her sleep quite often. She didn’t know, of course. He would sit outside her window for hours some nights simply watching her sleep. *It seems so strange for her not to be breathing, to not be able to hear the wonderful thump of her heart as it pumps warm sweet smelling blood through her body.*
“Get over it, mate, you’re never going to hear that again,” he muttered to himself as he let out a small sigh of remorse.
“Bloody hell, Buffy, I miss you already.”
Spike let out an unneeded breath as he thought about all the wonderful things that made Buffy special. Her golden skin would in time fade to marble white, the heat that had always surrounded her would no longer burn and instead she would be cold to the touch. The fire that always burnt inside of her would die out and be replaced with something icy cold and hard. She simply would not be the same woman that he fell in love with. Not that he regretted the choice he had made. No way in the world would he have changed that decision. He would rather face the great unknown than to let Buffy die.
As Buffy slowly started to wake she became aware of the sound of someone moving next to her.
*Where am I? What happened?* she thought to herself, desperately trying to process her last memories through her foggy mind. *Why do I feel so hungry? How long have I been asleep? Oh my god! NO- NO- NO- NO- NO! This can’t be happening, it can’t be true, no, Angelus wasn’t here. He didn’t bite me, it’s just a dream. A really, really bad dream.* With a scream she fully awoke.
“A- Ang- An- Ange, no, no, Angel, oh god what’s happening to m-me?” she screamed at the top of her lungs.
Looking around the dark dank room she was in, Buffy realized that she knew this place. It was Spike’s crypt. *Why am I in Spike’s crypt? In Spike’s bed? Oh god I’m so hungry!* As Buffy started to regain some control, she noticed that the peroxide blonde vampire was standing next to her, looking nervous.
*Shit! Spike’s nervous, Spike’s never nervous. This can’t be good.*
“S-Spike, w-what happened, how’d I get here?”
“Its okay, luv, everything will be okay. Do you remember anything that happened?”
As Spike spoke he reached out his hand to brush some hair away from Buffy’s face. Her face that now showed her demon’s true image. When Buffy saw Spike reach out to her she flinched away from his hand as if he was some sort of poisonous snake about to strike. She crawled further up the bed to get away from him, reaching up to brush the hair out of her own face. As her fingers brushed her face, she felt the difference-the rough leather-like feel, the ridges and the fangs. *Oh my god, I’ve got fangs.* Suddenly all the night’s events came crashing down on her--the fight with Angelus, him biting her and Spike feeding her his blood.
“You did this to me,” she whispered while she hugged herself and began to rock back and forth.
“I had no choice, luv. It was too late,” Spike tried to explain.
“HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?” She screamed.
“Please, Luv, I couldn’t lose you. Please let me help you.”
Spike reached out to Buffy, taking hold of her tiny hand. He pulled her forward into his strong embrace. Buffy allowed this, in too much shock to protest, letting out wrenched sobs she cried onto Spike’s chest as he stroked her hair and kissed her warm forehead. ‘WARM.’ Spike was shocked—it was true--she was warm, everything on her was warm. Her skin, her tears, her breath.
'‘HER BREATH.’ *Shit she’s breathing!* Then he heard it--her heart was beating.
“BLOODY HELL!” Spike yelled as he pulled Buffy away from his chest to get a better look at her. There she was in front of him still in vamp face, with her heart beating a mile a minute. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. All the things he thought she would lose when he turned her, her heartbeat, her warm skin, her warm breath. She hadn’t lost any of them.
“What?” she asked.
“Your heart... Buffy, it’s beating.”
“What?”
“Your heart, luv, can’t you feel it?”
Buffy placed her hand on her chest, and yes she could feel her heart beating, it felt like it was trying to beat outside of her chest. How hadn’t she noticed this? As she held her hand over her heart she noticed she felt warm to the touch. She also realized that she was holding her breath and she DID need to breathe, letting go of the air in her lungs she started to breathe rapidly.
“How?” was all she could get out.
“I don’t know, luv... I’ve never seen anything like this before,” Spike pulled her into another embrace and kissed the top of her golden head. “Are you hungry, pet?”
Buffy looked horrified. “I’m not going to kill anyone!” she screamed as she pulled away from her sire.
“You don’t have to, pet. I’ve got blood in the fridge.”
“Oh... sorry,” she whispered.
“S’okay, luv, I’ll go get you some,” he brushed some hair away from Buffy’s face. “Will you be okay?”
Buffy nodded her head, not really paying attention to what was being said.
The truth was she was far from okay. *How the hell could I have a heartbeat? Vampires don’t have heartbeats, they don’t breathe and they sure as hell aren’t warm. What the hell am I?* As she though about all the things that she shouldn’t have a wonderful smell hit her. When she looked up, Spike was standing in front of her holding a mug of blood. *Oh that smell, it smells delicious.*
As Spike handed Buffy the mug she practically ripped it from his hand, downing the contents quickly. He couldn’t help but laugh as his childe greedily gulped down her first meal. When she finished, she made a Yuk face at the taste of the blood.
“I know it never tastes as nice when it’s cold,” Spike shrugged, “have no way to heat it up.”
“Its okay... do you have anymore?”
He couldn’t help but laugh again, “Sure, luv, I’ll go get more.”
Spike returned with three more bags of blood and handed them to Buffy. She drained them quickly, making her Yuk face after each bag was finished.
“Do you need more?”
She shook her head. “No I’m full now... Thanks.”
Suddenly she jumped off the bed and started to pace the floor. Spike couldn’t help but notice that all of her injuries had healed; however, he paid no heed to this. After all, he had seen it many times before, just one of the marvels of being turned. However, he did notice her movements had changed, and he couldn’t help but to compare her to a leopard. Sleek, graceful and deadly--she was beautiful.
“I have to do something. We have to work this out. This isn’t right, vampires don’t have heartbeats, they don’t breathe, and they don’t have souls...” It suddenly occurred to her she still had her soul. As she ran her fingers through her hair and over her face, she noticed that she was still vamped out. “And how the hell do I get rid of this?” she asked angrily, pointing to her face.
“Just relax, luv, and then you’ll be able to pull it back.”
Buffy sat on the bed next to Spike and tried to calm her nerves, after a few minutes she was able to shift her human mask into place.
“I have to talk to someone. I have to talk to Giles!” Her breathing started to accelerate. “This is... This is too much.” She gasped, now bordering on hyperventilation. “Oh god, Spike, I’m so scared.”
Spike pulled Buffy into his strong embrace, trying to comfort her. “S’okay, Luv, we’ll go see ‘im together.” *And with any luck he won’t bloody well stake me,* he added silently.
