Chapter 6

The factory rang with her cries of anguish.  The Anointed One signalled to his minions to help her, distract her……..to just shut her up.  A multitude of vampires rushed to her side but she keened on.  “My sweet Willie……….he’s lost in her, drowning…..come to me my love; she’ll be your death in a burst of sunlight.”

The small boy with the large power spoke to his chief minion and instructed him to find the cause of her distress and bring him to them.  Anything to stop her whining.  It was grating on his nerves and besides…..the cartoons were on. 

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Buffy followed Spite into her bedroom, leaning against the door to shut it.  He paced, hands and arms flailing before he started to pat himself down for his smokes.  “I don’t see my mom as being the kind that allows smoking in the house, Spite.”

He stopped, looking down and away from her, shoulders slumped.  “No.  You’re probably right.  Allows smoking flesh though.”

Buffy cringed at his words.  According to Giles, she killed creatures such as Spite every day; it was her sacred duty.  But the thought of harming him, the fact that he had been in pain, cut her through.  “Let me see.”  She moved towards him, taking his damaged hand in hers.  It was already healing, nothing more than reddened marks now where the blisters had been. 

“Big baby!  There’s nothing there!”  Her words were light, meant to raise the mood and he played along although his feelings were in turmoil.  He didn’t know what to think any more.  Were the two of them natural enemies?  But if that was true, why did he need to keep touching her, assuring himself that she was there?  Was he really sizing her up for the kill? 

“Buffy.  Love.  We have to talk this through.”

“I know.  I’m just afraid of what it all means.  Can’t we just run away?  We don’t know these people after all, and they’d get over us.  Would be easier.”

He longed to agree with her; but he felt strongly that Buffy would wither and die without the support of the people discussing them downstairs.  They seemed pretty protective of her after all.  “No, pet.  We have to stay, work it out.  Hey!  How old are you anyway?”

“How should I know?  Why?”

“Well, ‘s just – no offence, love but the things we did last night?  Not sure you’re of an age to be thinkin’ of em, never mind puttin’ em into practice.  And if they find out…….well, I’d like to keep my gonads intact to be honest.”

“But you’re a vampire.  With the fangs?  Couldn’t you, you know…….eat them?”

He grinned.  Yeah, he could at that.  Suddenly things were looking up.  His smirk died as he caught Buffy looking at him, an odd smile playing about her lips and her eyes glassy.  She moved closer to him until her breath was warming the skin of his neck.  “Show me again” she whispered.  He didn’t know what she meant at first, but slowly realised what she was asking. 

“You sure love?  Makes me kind of fierce and bad tempered to be honest?”

“Show me.”  Her voice purred against his skin, her chest now pressed against her, her hands resting on his shoulders.  He could hear the murmur of the discussion going on downstairs, and a part of him realised that it was odd for him to be able to do so.  Another vampire trait no doubt for him to get used to.  All such thoughts disappeared when he felt the sweep of her tongue up his throat and across his jaw.  He surprised himself with the growl that built up in his chest.

“Go on………do it now…..”

He felt the pressure beneath his skin as his brow thickened to stand ridged, his eyesight sharpened so that everything seemed harsh and bright.  He raised a finger to trace the fangs that thrust from his gums, nicking the pad and suckling the crimson fluid into his mouth, caressing the digit with his pointed tongue.  He marvelled at the clarity of everything; the colours, the scents, the taste.  If this was being a vampire, yes please – he’d sign on for that.  Inhaling deeply, he sensed an appetising aroma that took him a moment to place.  Arousal.  Want.  Need.  Buffy.

Focusing on her, he noted her flushed face, the open mouth and quick tongue that moistened her dry lips.  Her eyes were fixed on him.  She wasn’t repulsed by this, hell it turned her on if the state of her knickers was anything to go by.  What kind of a vampire slayer was she?  She moved nearer to him, lips connecting softly, the tongue now sneaking out to taste him.  Spite wrapped her in his arms pulling her hard against him, nudging at her knees to allow him to grind against her mound.  Her kiss grew harder, hungrier, hands coming up to grip the curls at the base of his neck as she grew bolder.  Hot tongue met cooler as they melted into each other, Buffy forgetting for a moment the sharp canines lurking in the recesses of his mouth.  She jumped when her tongue sliced on a sharp edge; Spite’s cock hardened as he tasted the delicious tang of warm blood and he gripped her hips.  This was what he lived for; instinctively he knew it.  He sucked on her tongue, swallowing down the heated liquid, Buffy’s moans tangible evidence of her enjoyment. 

He reached between them to pop the top button of her pants, snaking his hand inside the denim to tug at her curls.  Buffy arched her back making it easier for him to reach her cleft and he delighted in the slick wetness of her as he ran his fingers over her clit. His lips left her mouth, kissing along her cheek, her jawline – down, down and along the throbbing jugular that called to him to pierce it, tear it, rip it open.  He shifted his hand so that he could slip two fingers inside her, curling the tips in search of her pleasure centre.  Buffy’s eyelids fluttered, helpless to do anything but give herself to her lover.

The slamming of a door downstairs jerked them back to reality, Buffy struggling to breathe as she tried to regain control of her body.  “Not here…with them all downstairs.”

Spite nodded, still in game face.  “Agreed, pet.  Wanna get out of here?”

“God yes!  But the sun…….”

“Don’t worry; don’t rightly think Mr Sunshine keeps me caged usually.   Think I’m more likely to piss on him and be on my way.  Must be ways round it; can’t see me cooling my heels when I’ve got things to do.  Maybe the sewers, d’you think?  Can’t get more dark and dismal than that.  You got a thick blanket?”

“Ewww!  Sewers!  With the rats…….”  Buffy sighed.  They did have things to do……each other mostly.  “Well, the coverlet off the bed’s thick; take that.  No!  Not the silk one, the one underneath.  You want to go now?”

“No time like the present.  And we do have unfinished business…….” Buffy rolled her eyes at the smirk on his now human face.  “We taking the traditional route or the monkey way?”

She considered all the things that could go wrong with Spite slinking down the tree – sunlight, stray branch…..

“Traditional.  But we’ll have to be quiet.”

“Ok.  Lead on, Macduff!”

Buffy looked back over her shoulder as she made her way down the stairs.  She didn’t have a clue what he’d just said, but she liked the voice he’d said it with.  At the bottom of the stairs she stopped, finger on lips in the universal signal to button it.  There was a heated discussion going on in the kitchen, voices loud enough to carry to the hallway.  Perfect for their disappearing act.

“Ok….quickly now…..come on!”

Buffy opened the door, tensing at the possibility of squeaks, and gestured to Spite to go through.  He hesitated; it was a nice theory but he really wasn’t sure whether the whole cover over head deal would work.  He might just end up a big pile of dust under a 15.0-tog duvet.  But the incentive was just now leaning out of the door with her pert butt wiggling, golden hair sweeping her shoulders.  He shrugged.  ‘We all have to go sometime……’  It was worth the risk.

In a blur of muffled curses as the quilt wrapped itself against his legs and threatened to have him sprawling full out beneath the fatal sun, Spite sprinted towards the sewer cover, Buffy close behind him.  He was beginning to smoulder as Buffy struggled to gain purchase on the metal cover and was contemplating heading back to the house; eventually the cover gave and he dived head first into the hole trusting himself to be agile enough to land in one piece.  Buffy clambered down the ladders, pulling the cover back into place above them.  She couldn’t see a thing in the darkness and she kicked herself that she hadn’t brought a flashlight. Spite, however, didn’t seem to be having a problem.  She saw the flash of yellow demon eyes and hesitated as he reached for her hand; this was all too weird.  Yesterday she …………well, she had no idea what had happened yesterday but she felt sure it wasn’t spent walking through the sewers with a vampire you were desperate to climb up.

Her body took over and her fingers interlocked with his as he started forwards, the water swishing round their feet.  “Spite?  Where are we going?” she hissed 

“Dunno, pet.  But I don’t reckon there’s any harm in investigating.  Gets us out of the way of the babbling idiots back at your place.”

Buffy punched him lightly.  She agreed, but felt a need to show a token defence of her friends and her mom.  They walked in silence other than the splashing, Buffy feeling strangely happy even though she was gagging on the stench from the water they were wading through.  The feel of his cool fingers gripping hers reassured her that no matter what happened she wouldn’t come to any harm.  They even started chatting, light nonsense about this and that.  It was nice, pleasant.  Odd.  Gradually her eyes became accustomed to the darkness and she started to see her surroundings, fuzzy but enough to get by.  Certainly she could see his eyes when she kept being drawn to look at him.

Spite stopped dead, Buffy running into his back, as the vampire heard noises that Buffy didn’t from further into the tunnels.  What to do…..

Suddenly there was no choice but to fight, instinct overtaking Buffy’s initial uncertainty as they were faced with at least ten vampire henchmen.  The fighting was fierce and swift, Buffy dusting one after the other with the stake she’d found in her jacket pocket.  She was a vision – somersaulting, twirling, always hitting the mark.  Spite stood and watched her for a while, mouth open in amazement.  She made the fight look like a dance, glorious and effervescent, breathtaking in its ferocity.  One of the four remaining vampires turned to him as he stood off to one side, speaking for a moment before Spite noticed so intent was he on watching Buffy’s moves.

“What’s your damage, Spike?  We’ve come to fetch you home.  Dru’s been real worried.”

“What?”

The vampire opened his mouth to reply, bursting into a haze of dust as Buffy’s stake hit its target once more. 

Spite stayed her hand as she was about to stake her last prey.  “Wait, love.”  Buffy stopped the descent of the stake just short of the vampire.  “What did the other say, earlier?  You know me?”

The vampire cowered against the wall, hands clasped protectively about his chest, eyes never leaving the lethal point of the wooden weapon gripped in the petite blonde’s fist.  “Yes.  You’re Spike.   I’m of your clan, your get; well yours and Dru’s.”

“Who’s Dru?”  Buffy’s voice sounded petulant even to her ears.

The vampire spoke to Spike.  “Dru’s your sire, man.  Your mate.”

Spike’s next question died on his lips as Buffy unerringly sent the stake thudding into the vampire’s heart and burying itself in the wall behind him.

“Not too helpful, Buffy.  I was gonna ask him about this Dru, me, where to find their den.”

“I don’t want to hear anything else about ‘Dru.’ And what kind of a name is that anyway?  And Spike?  That’s your name?”

“Seems like, pet.  Weren’t too far off the mark with our impromptu naming were we?”  Her pout was adorable.  She looked very much the sulking teenager she was, arms folded across her chest, brow creased by a frown.

“C’mere.  Look…the vamp could be wrong.  I know we’re together, can feel it here, yeah?”  He spread his hand over his heart as he spoke.  She looked at him, looked away immediately head held high.  Her bottom lip was trembling with the effort not to cry.  She had no memory before waking up next to him in the cemetery, but hearing that he wasn’t really hers……it hurt, it really hurt.

Cool arms snaked around her middle, his chin resting on her shoulder from behind as he placed a kiss on her earlobe.

“Buffy.  I don’t care about Dru, whoever she is. I know you’re mine.  You always will be.  Don’t matter if I get my memory back or not…you’ll always be my girl.”

Buffy turned in his embrace, eyes bright with unshed tears.  “You mean it?  You won’t leave me?”

Spike cupped her jaw in his hands, eyes boring into hers.  “I will never leave you.  You got me for life, kitten.  Longer.”  He smiled, a lopsided smile that melted her insides to goo and coaxed an answering grin from her.  “Really?”

Spike didn’t answer, he simply moved to kiss her, to convince her with his actions that he spoke the truth.  Buffy’s arms came round to caress the back of his neck, fingers tangling in the springy curls she found there.  It was rapidly becoming her favourite place to touch.  She felt his arms wrap tighter crushing her against him.  Their surroundings were forgotten as cool tongue met warmer, twisting and delving deeper into each other’s mouths.  Buffy nibbled on his bottom lip, delighting in the taste and texture of his flesh and almost swooning as he mirrored her actions on her own kiss-swollen pout.  Soon she found herself with her back pressed up against the cold and damp wall of the sewer as Spike’s hands roamed over her body.  Her senses were aflame, his kiss both raising goosebumps and warm flushes equally along her skin.  Her heart thudded in her chest and she could feel the rush of blood in her veins, the flood of moisture that was building in her crotch.  A moan of pleasure escaped her lips and he chuckled against her mouth.  This was definitely something he wanted to keep on doing – so Dru or no Dru, he was right where he wanted to be and wasn’t going anywhere.

Icy lips hovered over her throbbing veins, teeth nipping down along her collarbone and below.  Buffy’s head was thrown back, eyelids fluttering as waves of pleasure washed over her.  Somewhere in the back of her mind she realised that she was baring her neck to a vampire, and memory or not she knew this wasn’t really the smart thing to do.  It was a pleasurable thing though, the way his tongue snaked out to lick along her flesh and trace the pulsing to the base of her throat where it beat steadily and with increasing urgency.  She was scrabbling at his coat with eager fingers, pushing the soft leather off his shoulders in her haste to get to his naked body. 

It didn’t matter that the mood music was the steady drip of filthy water; it didn’t matter that the wall was moist with fungus and the stench less than pleasant.  All that mattered was the feel of his lips, his tongue, his hands.  The sensation of his erect cock pressing against her mound where he’d nudged her legs apart and was rocking against her.  The acute yearning that flooded her and demanded satisfaction.

Her eyes widened as he suckled at the sensitive spot on her neck over her jugular.  She could feel him dragging the blood to the surface of her skin, thrilled with the naïve pleasure of a young girl that he would leave a mark on her, identify her as his property.  Every drag against her neck built up ripples of sensation deep in her womb and she was helpless to do anything but to thrust back at him.  She almost passed out when he growled against her throat.

Spike was in trouble.  He had no recall of being a vampire but the primal urge to take her blood was overwhelming.  His struggle last night to stop himself from ripping into her with his teeth now made more sense.  It was what he did.  He didn’t want to hurt her though and was fighting the demon for mastery.  The taste of her had him rock hard and desperate to bury himself inside her heat and as he focused on her scent he felt his face begin to change, his fangs lengthen.  He was losing control; it would take hardly anything to send him over the edge.

Buffy bit down on his neck.

He was lost.  Fully vamped he gave in to his instincts; his rough tongue rasped at her flesh eliciting a whimper from her.  He could feel the delicious resistance of her skin as it bent beneath the twin points of his fangs, continued to increase the pressure until the skin popped and the aroma of her blood washed over his senses and his tongue.  He allowed his mouth to fill with the precious fluid before he swallowed it down reverently, pulling again at the wound in slow motion.  After he’d swallowed a few mouthfuls he managed to rein in the demon somewhat and made to move away from her pulsing throat.

Buffy was having none of it.  The penetration of his incisors kicked off an orgasm that fluttered along her passage, every drag of her blood into his mouth answered by a cascade of pleasure in her groin.  He found his head gripped by her tiny hand where she refused to allow him to distance himself from her throat.  The smell, the taste, the sight of her flushed face - Spike had to have her, had to bury his cock in her now.

Frantically, by unspoken agreement, they both reached for the other’s fly and made swift work of removing the barriers between them.  Buffy shimmied her hips to get her jeans down her legs, thankful that she had on ankle boots that she could toe off and allow Spike to pull one leg down and off the end of her foot.  She’d unzipped his jeans and pushed them down his thighs sufficiently to allow his cock to spring free, wasting no time in wrapping her fist around it and stroking him to painful hardness.  Her hand was swatted away by him once he’d finished with her jeans and she found herself shoved up roughly against the wall as he dragged her panties aside and gripped one knee to wrap it around his hip.  She was soaking wet, ready for him and he thrust his cock all the way inside her before stilling both between her legs and at her throat. 

“God, Spike!” she mouthed, more a moan than anything else.  Spike bucked his hips forwards, one hand beneath her butt, the other wrapped with her golden hair as he kept it out of the way of his hungry mouth suckling at her blood.  Her other leg came up to wrap around him so that she was pinned against the wall where his cock entered her and balanced along his body.  Spike’s fingers were kneading at her flesh, almost painfully, the rhythm he was building betraying the movement he wanted to make where they were joined.  Buffy thrust back at him, using the leverage of her shoulders against the wall to gain more purchase for the movement.  The angle brought his pelvic bone right in line with her clit and her senses sizzled as Spike’s momentum grew.  He was nearing explosion, ripping his fangs from her neck and licking the wound roughly as he growled against her skin.  She felt him shake as his legs started to give way beneath him and climbed up him to grip onto a pipe she’d spotted above her head, hanging there, still joined to him at the groin.  Spike looked up at her with his amber eyes, his hands now cupping her hips and his legs splayed a little to get a better angle for their frenzied rutting.  Buffy’s head was butting the pipe with each thrust but she didn’t care.  The mix of pain and pleasure was in itself intoxicating and when she felt blood from his bite mark trickle down her breastbone and pool stickily in her bra she moaned again, her entire body electrified with the myriad of sensations she was experiencing. 

She heard Spike inhale deeply, felt one hand leave her hip, then her shirt was ripped open, bra shredded by his steely fingers before his cool, rough tongue cleaned her breast of the precious fluid he craved.  She shivered when he swirled around her nipple, sucking it into his mouth and grazing it with his fangs.  Buffy felt rather than heard his request as it rumbled against her chest, finally giving in to the orgasm that had been building for what seemed hours at his words.

“Come for me.”

Her legs clamped tight around him drawing him nearer to her as her pussy rippled around him.  He couldn’t help himself; her breast was all luscious and warm and right beneath his lips.  When he felt the inevitability of his ejaculation he buried his fangs once more in her flesh and drew more of her aromatic blood down his throat.

Buffy screamed from the pain of his bite but that passed quickly to leave her shaking with the force of another orgasm that rocketed through her leaving her limp and exhausted.  Her limbs were shaking, her grip on the pipe failing so that she slid down the wall and into the waiting arms of her equally boneless lover.

He was still in full demon face, too many emotions racing through him to deal with the battle it would take to lose it.  He’d tasted her blood, marked her as his……..bloody hell!  Somehow that phrase seemed important, some wispy memory trickling into his brain from times past…..

Gently, he lowered Buffy to the ground moving to wrap his arms around her and settle her head on his chest while he composed himself.  That was one hell of a knee trembler.  Bloke ‘d be mad to give that up, no matter what had happened in the past. 

“You alright, pet?” he whispered softly against her hair, concerned that she was shaking.  Had he hurt her?  Was she still bleeding?  Suddenly panicked, he pushed her away from him moving her hair so that he could check the puncture wounds on her neck, her breast.  The marks were puckered but healing, nothing more than clear plasma oozing from the holes.  He looked up to meet her eyes and found them soft and focused on him.  Buffy nodded, managed to whisper “I’m fine” as if the beaming smile that now graced her face didn’t already tell him that.

Spike found himself smiling in return.  He chuckled as he swept his gaze down her bare body.  “Looks like we killed your clothes, love.  Here, take my shirt, least your jeans are still serviceable.”  Buffy suddenly recalled the desperate clawing at her top, her bra and instinctively covered herself up with her hands.  “Bit late for that don’t you think?”  Spike mock growled, instantly regretting it as her brow furrowed.    Time seemed to stop until Buffy’s tense shoulders relaxed and she looked up at him shyly, hands dropping to her sides.  “Yeah, pretty much.  So, do I get the shirt or what?”  Her smile dazzled him once more and he wasted no time in shucking off his tee and helping her put it on.  Not too bad a fit, in fact it clung to her bare breasts deliciously.  Buffy glanced down to find out what was poking her in the hip.

“Hey!  I’m not a robot you know, give a girl a breather.  Is this……….normal?  The recovery time thing?  It’s just….I thought….I’ve read….”

“Dunno.  Could be a vamp thing.”  Spike beamed with pride.  “Could just be me…..”

Buffy rolled her eyes at him.  “Ego much?  Come on then, stallion, let’s go and do some digging about and maybe later I’ll take you for another ride.”

A snort from the vampire.

“Do you think it’s dark yet, ‘cause I don’t want you crispy-fried?”

Spike closed his eyes, accessing senses he didn’t know he had.  “Nearly…….sun should be almost down.  Shall we?”

Like a gallant gentleman, Spike offered her his arm.  “Why, sir!  But I hardly know you…”

“Yeah, right…..”

Giggles and soft laughter trailed them as they made their way through the sewer system, Spike just letting his nose lead him to an exit. Every few yards they found an excuse to stop and kiss, or stop and fondle, or a mix of both.  As it was, it took them over an hour to walk not very far at all and Buffy was on the verge of pushing him to the ground and saddling him up when Spike nodded towards a set of ladders.   

"Seems familiar, pet. Not sure why, but I think I’ve been here before.”

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