Chapter 8

Spike strolled into the factory, cigarette dangling from his fingers.  He hoped Dru would have her crazy phase on her so as to be distracted from the questions she’d shoot at him when she smelled the Slayer on him.  Talking of….he inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring to catch every last scrap of her essence.  He told himself it was just a predator thing, getting to know his prey.  But the poet inside him knew that was a lie.

Rounding the corner, he spied his dark princess sitting on the floor, dollies and a tea tray set out before her.  She was babbling, ripping heads off her blindfolded babies, and Spike thanked the Powers That Be that she wouldn’t be sane enough to call him on anything.  She hadn’t even registered his presence and he took advantage by heading to the bedroom and stripping off his clothes.  Maybe if he had a shower and doused himself in cologne she’d never even know.

Yeah, like she even needed to use any of her normal senses…….

He dropped the clothes in a heap to deal with later and headed for the shower, striding naked through the factory to the makeshift washroom.  He was outlined in moonlight and shadow, all sculpted flesh and hard angles.  Hungry yellow eyes of the minions scattered throughout the building followed his progress as he nonchalantly ruffled his hair with one hand, the other stroking down his chest to come to rest at his groin. 

Spike knew they were watching, in fact his ego counted on it.  Just before he reached the bathroom he stopped, reaching both arms high above his head then bending over to stretch out his back.  Smirk on his face, he acknowledged the whimpers he heard from the shadows and stepped out of sight.

Twenty minutes later, he was clothed once again in black, hair slicked back with gel.  He really needed to re-polish the nails but they’d have to wait.  He was sure he’d finally got the Slayer out of his system, having spent ten minutes in the shower trying to recreate her  body and her face in his mind while he frantically wanked off, spattering the wall in front of him with his come.  He felt cleansed inside and out now.  No more Slayer thoughts, except the ones of her with her throat ripped out.

No, that wasn’t a twinge of guilt he felt.  He was just hungry, that was all.

Time to get someone to eat.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

After a restless night spent dreaming of cool skin and heated kisses, Buffy dragged her tired carcass out of bed to be met by her mom pacing in the hallway. 

“Buffy! Sorry, you startled me.  I just wanted to check on you….but I didn’t want to barge in, just in case…..”

“Spike’s not here mom.  He’s a vampire, I’m the slayer – the only thing we have in common is our fascination with cemeteries.  Trust me, the next time I see him he’ll be minus that smug grin.” The last words hitched in her throat.  There was definitely something wrong with her, maybe a side effect of the spell?  Time to hit the library, face the questions.  Find the answers, hopefully.

Joyce saw the conflicting emotions race across Buffy’s face.  Her heart ached for her daughter, so young but with such responsibility on her narrow shoulders.  And by the looks of it, smitten by the gorgeous vampire.

“I’ve got to get ready.  Giles and the others, they’ll be worried.  I’ll see you later, ‘k?”  Buffy kissed her mother’s cheek and headed for the bathroom leaving Joyce to gather her thoughts and her belongings and head out to the gallery.

+++

An hour later, Buffy felt like she was on trial.  She was sitting on the most uncomfortable chair ever made – a torture device by design, surely – with Xander and Willow behind the table opposite to her and Giles standing behind the two of them.  She imagined she could hear a clock ticking, but it was in her head.  Anything would be better than the silence.

“So, shall I just ‘fess up now and wait for the firing squad or are there questions?”

Willow’s face was a shade to rival her hair.  “I’m really, really sorry Buffy.  I didn’t mean to…….I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, Will…I know.  But you did.  I’m sorry too.  Now my head’s all messed up and I don’t know what to think.”  Buffy’s big bad act lasted as long as it took for Willow’s bottom lip to start quivering.  She sighed.  “Guys look…it’s done, I’m here.  I remember everything so there’s no real harm done.  And at least we know who the ringleader is for this St Vitreous thing.”

“Vigeous” Giles corrected unconsciously.

“Yeah, whatever.  So all I have to do is go find Spike, stake him, see to the bitch whore Dru and we’re good.”

Three sets of stunned eyes faced her.

“What?”

“Ahem…….Buffy.  You appear to be a little, shall we say, ‘keyed up’ about the person you refer to.  Dru is it?”

“Well, yeah.  Stupid name.  Anyway, I’ve just got to stake her and everything will be fine.  And staking vampires is what I do.”

The questions came then, what had she done, where had she been, had Spike tried to kill her, did she try to kill him?  She told them the G rated version.  No kissage, definitely no touchy feely.  And the emotions that were whirling round inside her?  She hid them well.  By the time Giles had made his tiny notes in his leather bound book, Willow and Xander were convinced that all was well with her and Giles was too busy wondering how to relate to the Watcher’s Council the tale of the vampire and the vampire slayer who spent the night together without any dusting whatsoever.

Classes passed in a blur, even more so than usual.  By the time the last bell rang she was itching to get out and slay.  But it was still daylight, not much going on in the slayage department.  Shopping then, if she couldn’t slay, she’d shop.  Willow and Xander were more than happy to go with, Xander just anxious to be near Buffy wherever she was and Willow desperately trying to assuage her guilt by buying Buffy mucho mocha goodness. 

It was a strange trip; for some reason Buffy kept dallying by the menswear imagining a lean and spare frame covered with the radiant blue sweater that would enhance blue eyes, those shirts, right there, that would show just a glimpse of sculpted chest; the tight, black trousers cut to hang deliciously off a firm rump. 

Angel; she should be thinking of Angel.  And not blue eyes, brown. Gah!  She was driving herself insane.  She found that she was absentmindedly stroking the fang marks on her neck; so far nobody had noticed or if they had they hadn’t commented.  Guiltily she jerked her hand away to avoid attention, which of course had the opposite effect.

Willow spat out the juice she was drinking, all over Xander’s back, who turned quickly to see what the fuss was about.  Consequently, he watched in horror as Willow tugged at Buffy’s shirt to reveal the twin puncture holes, now almost healed but obviously from a bite.

“Buffy?”  The single word was both a question and an accusation.  It made her feel defensive, cornered – and a cornered Slayer was not a happy Slayer.

“What now?”

“You’ve been………bitten.”

“And that’s your business – how?”

“But…..Buffy……”

“But Buffy nothing, Willow.  Look, you cast your little spell, Buffy’s brain went ga-ga and now it’s back.  You’re judging me….you have no right.  What’s done is done.  I didn’t know who I was.”  Her voice dropped to almost a whisper.  “All I knew was that I was with someone who loved me….and I loved him.”

She lifted her eyes to find the shocked faces of her best friends.  She couldn’t deal with this, not now.

“Look, I’ve got to go……..we’ll talk, but I need to………..I’ll catch you later….”  She turned tail and fled from the mall leaving Xander and Willow staring after her departing back.  The two best friends were lost for words.

“Willow………please promise me you’ll never meddle with magic again.”

Willow just nodded, the images running through her mind robbing her of her voice.

+++++++

“Dru, pet……..come to bed.  You’re driving me soddin’ daft with those dolls.  Come play with me……..I promise I’ll bite…”  Smirk and a tongue roll for good measure.  Drusilla shook her head.

“Bad Willy; you’re saying what’s in your head but your heart’s full of sunshine.  Naughty boy.”

“Yeah, love.  That I am……come spank me….”

Nothing he could say or do would entice Drusilla into his bed; it was driving him insane.  All day he’d tried coaxing her, giving her kisses and slaps in equal measure but nothing seemed to work.  She was babbling about sunshine and summer, screeching about light and destiny.  Usually, he could distract her from the most insane workings of her damaged mind with caresses and punches.  But not today. 

And then she changed.  His mercurial princess stood up from her tea party and started swaying to her unique internal music, arms high above her head to start with then twisting together before slinking down her body, caressing her own breasts and coming to rest palms down on her hips.  Spike licked his lips – this was more like it.

Drusilla was singing softly to herself as she danced, eyes closed in ecstasy as she slowly raised the hem of her skirt by puckering the material in her fingers which remained centred on her sex.  Spike leaned up on one elbow to watch her, never tiring of the show she put on, his free hand cupping his balls then stroking his stiffening cock as the skirt raised to reveal her dark curls. 

His hand stopped.  Why the fuck had the flash of lighter curls, golden skin rushed across his mind?  No………..please no.

Dru sashayed her way towards the bed, humming and unhooking her bodice to let it fall to her feet and reveal pale skin and pink nipples hardened by her desire.  She bent forwards, cupping her breasts and licking her scarlet lips.  She’d reached the bed now and removed her hands to unzip her skirt and step out of it.  Now she was bare to his gaze.  Spike was horrified as he felt his erection grow flaccid. 

What the fuck?

“Awww, poor baby……..mummy will fix it, sweet Willy.”  Dru’s red lips opened as she took his cock into her mouth and he closed his mouth expecting ecstasy to follow.   Bad move.  Closed lids revealed long, blonde hair and hazel eyes.  The feeling of Dru sucking on his failing erection was nearer to torture. And not in a good way.

She nipped him.  With a roar he backhanded her away from him, pushing himself away from the bed to his feet.  He was completely disturbed; what was going on in his head?  There was certainly nothing going on in his crotch. 

The fucking slayer.  She was in his head, his gut, ruining his unlife.  First of all Dru had ignored him all day because of her scent; now she was ready to shag him senseless and he couldn’t even get it up because her skin and hair were the wrong colour.  Sod that.  The only way to fix it was to get rid of the Slayer once and for all.

And the witch would pay too.  Messing with his head, making him think he loved the Slayer.  Him!  William the Bloody, vampire who’d killed two slayers before he came to this sorry town.  Nobody did that to him and lived.  The lot of them would be nothing more than heaps of offal when he’d finished with them.

Except Joyce.  He liked the lady.  She was pleasant, and she’d made him feel like a man, more than he’d felt in over a century.  He’d give her a free pass.

Right then.  Snarling at Drusilla who was huddled in a ball on the floor he grabbed his clothes and made his way over to the weapons chest.  Time to rid himself of the girl who’d managed to get under his skin.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

Buffy had been a whirlwind of slaughter on patrol, so much so that she’d resorted to standing in the middle of every cemetery she came to and offering bribes to the vampires to come and take her on.  At first there’d been a rush of takers, but when the oncomers were striding through a big pile of dust suddenly the vampires had better places to be.  Buffy pouted and screamed but to no avail.  How was she supposed to distract herself from thoughts of a blond vampire and his kissable lips if the vampires wouldn’t line up and be staked?

Throwing her hair over her shoulder she stamped off home, killing a bench on the way to ease her angst.  Not that it worked….

She even sidestepped Angel, telling herself that she was doing it for him, that she needed to get her mind straight before they had the talk.  That was best for both of them.

She’d taken the tree route, trying to avoid thinking of the last time she’d entered the room that way.  She almost felt his cool hands on her butt as she boosted herself inside and over the window ledge.  Why couldn’t she stop thinking of him?  He was her mortal enemy, not her soul mate.  She should be disgusted with herself, not aching to feel his flesh against hers.  Stupid vampire.

Buffy cleaned her teeth and studied herself in the mirror.  She didn’t look any different, still Buffy.  But the feelings coursing through her were entirely new.  And disturbing.  She scrubbed at her face until it was glowing then jumped into bed, just a nightshirt covering her in the warm night.  She doubted she’d be sleeping any time soon but she’d better try because she was seriously driving herself insane.  Tomorrow she’d see an end to it………to him.  It was the only way.  The day had been a waking nightmare; every time she closed her eyes, emptied her mind – he was there, smirking and flicking that damn tongue out and across his lips.  She’d even found herself breathing in the scent of her schoolbag for the remnant of leather handle attached to it. 

It couldn’t go on.  He couldn’t go on.  It was her sacred duty to send him to hell.

Thoughts of Spike dissolving into dust had her sobbing into her pillow.  She didn’t hear the rustle of leaves outside the window, nor the heavy footfall of boots across her carpet.  She felt the bed dip when he sat on the end, however, realising immediately from the tingles at her neck who it was. 

 “What do you want, Spike.” 

“Want to taste your blood, pet, as I drain you dry.”

Buffy moved under the covers, looking up at him, their eyes meeting.  They both gasped, sizzling electricity taking them by surprise.  She turned her neck.

“Go ahead…but you know I’ll kill you.  You ready for that?”

Buffy started crying again at her own words.  Question is, was she ready for that?

“Hey, hey, pet……….what’s with the tears?” Without thought, Spike was at her side, cradling her, soothing her with kisses and caresses.  Buffy wrapped her arms around him, clinging to his chest.  She was speaking but really, he couldn’t make out a word even with his vampire hearing.  The fangs were gone, the amber eyes replaced with startling blue.

“Buffy, love.  Shhh. You’re going to have to take it slow, spell it out to me, yeah?  I’m listening, go on.”

Buffy sniffled against his shirt, inhaling deeply of his scent.  It had been 24 hours since she’d been held in his arms.  Here was the only place she felt whole.

“Thing is, Spike.  I don’t know what’s happened to me.”  He filled the gaps in her sob-ridden words himself.  “I’ve never felt as good as I do when you hold me.  Why is that?  I should kill you…I’ve got the stake right here…” She reached for the bedside cabinet and Spike watched her little hand groping about for the instrument of his destruction.  She gripped the stake and brought it round to rest on the bed in front of her.”

“So, here I am………killing you…”

She didn’t move, time stretched between them.  “Go on then, get it over with.  Take me out of this world, because truly Buffy, if I can’t have you…..I don’t know how you’ve gotten inside me, love, but you’re right here.”  He splayed his hand, palm down, over his heart.  “Been trying to forget about you.  Tried all bloody day.  Showered until I thought I’d rip all my skin off – but nothing got you from out of my head.  Dru’s all insane crazy about us; she always knows what’s really inside your heart.  Offering it to me on a plate she was, and all I could think of was warm, golden flesh and your bloody stupid hair!”

Buffy sniffled again, eyes wide and fixed on Spike as he prattled on.  “Soddin’ hell, Slayer!  I’m supposed to be your big bad nemesis, instead I’m your bloody lapdog.  How the mighty have fallen….”

Buffy couldn’t speak.  She was too emotional to form words.  Eventually she squeaked out “You mean…….you feel something…….too…..?” 

Spike fixed her with his icy blue stare. Feel something?  No.  Everything?  Yes and then some.  This tiny blonde had invaded his world and now he couldn’t exist in his world without her.

Buffy’s eyes were still teary, moisture clinging to her skin.  Spike leaned forward and traced the path of her tears with his tongue delighting in the saltiness of her.  He remembered clearly the taste of her blood pooling in his mouth and felt his cock harden in his jeans.  This woman had more mastery of his body than he did!  One glance, one trace of scent and he was begging for her to hurt him, get down and dirty and make him scream.

Buffy kicked off the covers to reveal tanned legs peeping out from the satin nightshirt.  She looked so innocent, freshly scrubbed face, hair brushed until it shone.  The demon wanted to defile her; the man wanted to love her.  Tentatively, he reached out a hand and starting at her knee, drew circles with his fingers up her inner thigh to brush lightly against her curls.  Buffy arched her back wanting him to delve deeper inside her.  Instead, he moved his attentions to the other thigh, repeating the motion there but this time allowing his hand to rest against her mound, one finger sliding gently over her clit.  Buffy’s breathing was becoming laboured as she felt herself aroused to almost painful intensity.  She reached towards him, cupping his cock through his jeans and squeezing until his eyes rolled back.  Innocent, this girl?  No way. 

He stood up from the bed, eyes not leaving her flushed face as he popped the buttons on his fly one by one.  The boots were kicked off, duster shrugged from his shoulders to cover the discarded footwear and suddenly he was naked, stepping out of his jeans and stalking towards her, hand resting on his stomach, fingers pointing along the line of dark hair to his groin.  As if he needed any attention drawing to the stiff cock that jutted from his dark curls…..

Buffy reached for the hem of the nightshirt and gripped it, pulling it up and over her head to leave her as bare to his gaze as he was to hers.  Almost in slow motion, Spike crawled up her body, coming to rest with his forehead against hers, his groin against her mound and sliding against her. 

“Kiss me,” Buffy whispered, voice raw with lust and other unnamed – for now – emotions.

Softly, Spike complied, tongue sweeping across her lips before gently prising them apart and gaining entry to her warm mouth.  He increased the pressure adding in the mindblowing twist of his hands roaming over her body, tweaking and stroking in turn to have her begging him to fill her. 

“God, Slayer……….”  Once again Spike struggled with the demon, only this time both of them were aware of the consequences of letting him out.  His eyes flickered from blue to gold, Buffy feeling his forehead ridge then smooth out where it rested against her.  She wanted this.  She wanted the man and the demon to be hers.  Really, once she’d had them both there wasn’t any other choice…..

Spike shifted his hips and entered her slowly, agonisingly so, when she wanted to drag him deep and harder against her sex.  He fought the urge to fuck her hard.  This was a big deal for him.  He’d come to kill her, instead he was babbling about her being under his skin.  He may as well make it pretty.

“Spike” a breathy moan against his ear had him increasing the pace and losing control of the demon.  Fully vamped, his fangs scraped across the marks he’d left at their last coupling, the sensation stimulating Buffy’s erogenous zones to almost white hot intensity.  She clamped her legs up around his hips, her nails scraping down his back as she bit down on his shoulder. 

Once again, Spike’s fangs penetrated her flesh and the orgasm that followed dragged him over the precipice with her.  Buffy tasted the salt of his blood on her tongue as she bit down harder to stifle the scream building in her throat.  She should be gagging; she was suckling.  The taste was like nectar and she shut down that part of her brain that told her to spit it out. 

“You’re mine, Buffy.  You’ll always be mine.”  His words purred against her neck setting off another explosion in her pussy that milked him dry.  She moved her mouth away from him a little, her lips smeared with his blood.  “Mine,” she murmured against his skin.  “God help me, you’re mine.”

Panting, Buffy slid from underneath him and settled her head on his chest as he lay down.  She drew little circles on his chest, gathering her breath.  She knew they had a lot to talk about.  But really, lying here – that was all she needed for now.

“So pet……where do we go from here?”

Buffy smiled, raised her head to lean on a hand.  Where indeed……She couldn’t believe that just one misplaced spell could have such an effect on two powerful beings without it being fated.  Maybe it wasn’t such an accident after all.  And yeah, her friends would freak and Angel would have his heart ripped out….but she’d never felt like this in Angel’s arms.  Not even close.  There was no point fighting the inevitable. 

“Let’s start with this shall we?” 

Buffy started to nibble on his lower lip.  He growled and flipped her over to lay on her back.  The big questions could wait until tomorrow.

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