Symbiosis
by Spikesdeb
Willow mused on where her relationship with Oz was going. Nowhere fast apparently. She wanted so very badly to throw herself on him and kiss him breathless; or rather the vixen Willow she kept hidden did. The Willow that everybody else saw could barely exchange a word with him without blushing. How did the others do it? Buffy and Angel used to smooch all the time and even Xander and Cordelia must be able to do it without any problem. Maybe they weren’t the best examples; Xander and Cordelia were hardly a normal couple and Buffy and Angel? Well, the kissing and smooching led to bad, bad things.
The movies last night had been a bust. Nice, but no matter how much Willow shifted her body and fluttered her eyelashes at Oz, even resorting to the brushing of hands when they shared the popcorn, he didn't seem to want to touch her. His eyes remained fixed on the screen, but Willow got the impression he was thinking about something else. Not her, obviously. The conversation they'd just had by the trophy cabinet hadn't helped, the two of them stuttering and muttering, Willow finally making an excuse to leave when she saw Buffy in the hallway.
It was making her antsy, and Buffy obviously spotted the vibe because the moment she fell into step beside her friend, the questions came.
"So, Will, how's the love life going?"
Willow sighed as they reached the outside colonnade. "Nowhere. I mean, he said he was gonna wait until I was ready, but I'm ready. Honest. I'm good to go here."
Buffy could sense the frustration coming off her friend in waves. She knew exactly how she felt. Angel kissage had been wonderful, the feel of his arms around her, pulling her close; the way he felt on top of her as he gently...
So not going there!
"Well, I think it's nice that he's not just being an animal."
"It is nice! He's great. We have a lot of fun. But I want my smoochies!"
Willow threw her arms up to punctuate her words, Buffy grinning at the look on her face. It was actually nice to worry about Willow's love life and ignore her own disastrous attempt. All thoughts of Angel/Angelus needed to be squashed down so that she could function.
"Have you dropped any hints?"
"I've dropped anvils."
"Ah, he'll come around. What guy could resist your wily Willow charms?"
"At last count, all of them. Maybe more." Willow's voice was getting higher and squeakier as she confided in Buffy, her childhood fears of being left an old lady with blue hair and smelling of cats making her anxious.
"Well, none of them know a thing. They all get an 'F' in Willow."
"But I want Oz to get an 'A', and oh, one of those gold stars."
Buffy took a seat on a nearby bench, Willow sitting down next to her.
"He will."
"Well, he'd better hurry. I don't want to be the only girl in school without a real boyfriend."
Buffy looked away, her eyes filling up as Willow inadvertently poked her sore spot.
"Oh! I'm such an idiot. I… I'm sorry. I shouldn't even be talking about...Do you want me to go away?"
No. Buffy definitely didn't want to lose anybody else that she loved.
"I wish you wouldn't."
A few moments of silence passed as Buffy composed herself and Willow checked out her next sentence and vetted it for idiocy.
"How are you holding up anyway?"
"I'm holding. I was going on for two minutes there without thinking about Angel."
Willow smiled, a brittle, nervous smile, seizing the opportunity to lighten the mood.
"Well, there you go!"
"But I would do a lot better if you and Xander and I could do that 'sharing our misery' thing tonight."
"Great. I'll give Xander a call. What's his number? Oh, yeah, 1-800-I'm-Dating-A-Skanky-Ho." She finished with an eye-roll and a pffft.
Buffy inclined her head in impressed surprise. "Meow!"
Willow giggled. "Really? Thanks. I've never gotten a 'meow' before."
"Well-deserved."
"Darn tootin'. I'm just saying, Xander and Cordelia? I mean, what does he see in her anyway?"
Buffy smiled and nodded, at a loss to come up with a credible answer, or at least not one that wouldn't upset Willow. But the thing was, who knew what happened between a couples? Despite early objections to herself and Angel from her Watcher and her friends, Angel had become an ally in their fight and respected by all of them, even Xander. He was totally accepted as her boyfriend. And now he was an evil soulless thing. Because of her...
In the future, she promised herself that she'd be open to anything because her nice, neat – albeit demon-filled – world had been rocked to its very core.
+ + + +
The next morning, Buffy was well and truly distracted from any thoughts of Angel as Xander wigged out and told her a third time about the attack that had interrupted his and Cordelia's previous night's smoochies. With each telling, the monster got bigger. The fact that they'd been parked in 'Lovers' Lane' was something Buffy was trying not to dwell on. She was grateful for the fact that anything attack-y was her business and she could concentrate on that instead of her newly evil ex. Buffy stuck a hand through the hole in the roof of Cordelia's convertible; it was definitely slashed, and by something big by the looks of it. But a werewolf?
"And you're sure it was a werewolf?"
Xander testily assured her that yes, it was a werewolf, Cordelia clinging to him in full-on helpless girlfriend mode. Any looming unpleasantness was dispersed by the arrival of Giles bearing the fruits of his hastily completed research. It appeared that there'd been a number of sightings of a large wild animal, some smaller creatures apparently providing dinner. Thankfully, there'd been no human casualties, and given that a werewolf – if such it was, and so it seemed given the evidence – only appeared during the full moon, Giles was confident they could find some way of dealing with it before the following month's danger time.
"What about tonight's full moon?" Willow shot anxious looks between Buffy, Giles and Xander, barely sparing a glance at Cordelia and holding tightly onto Oz's hand.
Giles removed his glasses, polishing them absently, his face a mask of confusion. "Pardon?"
Willow told them that last night was the night before full moon, so either the werewolf was an early riser or the legends were unreliable. Whichever way they looked at it, it meant more research. Giles was electrified at the thought, his mind already wandering off into lupine lunar myths before he turned and sped off for an afternoon with the classics. Werewolves and full moons. Only on the Hellmouth would that cause such a gleeful response...
After a full day of school in which Buffy almost got herself expelled from gym class for throwing Larry against the wall during a self-defence exercise, she found herself patrolling the park with Giles in search of a werewolf. It seemed that Giles had more information than he first thought, and that while it was true that werewolves were active at full moon, they were also around the night before and the night after. Gave Buffy a whole two more nights in which to capture herself a probably not housetrained pet.
She shot a look sideways at Giles as he removed his glasses for the gazillionth time and 'oh lord-ed' and tutted his way past another steamed-up passion wagon. Had he ever been young and parked up with a girl? Buffy shook herself to rid her mind of that disturbing image. Ewww. Gruesome!
What was he saying?
"I.... uh...thought we might knock on a few windows, uh, ask if anyone has seen anything yet."
Was he insane? It'd be all round school in a heartbeat that the librarian was a sicko perv.
"Giles, no one's seen anything."
"Oh...no. Yes. Of c-course not. Yes."
Buffy waved her flashlight, indicating that she would take the bushes to the right, gratified when Giles pushed his glasses back up his nose and went in the opposite direction.
She wished he'd been closer when she found herself yanked up into the tree canopy, her limbs tangled in a rope net. She opened her mouth to yell for him, the sound dying on her lips as the sharp sting of a dart struck her leg.
+ + + +
Spike waited at the edge of the bushes, eyes glittering hard as the werewolf hunter reluctantly made his way toward him.
"Nice shot, mate. What sort of a punch does it pack? An hour, two?"
Cain swallowed nervously and tried to snap a branch from the trees as he passed, hoping for a makeshift stake but failing to get hold of more than just greenery. Damn vampires. If only they had pelts they’d do great on the trophy market: trying to sell jars of genuine vampire dust was a joke. Weren’t worth the effort of killing, or he’d have been primed and ready to see an end to this particular specimen. His tormentor might be wheelchair bound but he hadn't lost the fangs or the incredibly powerful hands. Cain rubbed at the bruised neck that bore testament to that. He was seriously scary.
"Don't know with humans. It'll put a grown werewolf down for two, three hours depending upon weight, and there’s not much of her, is there? I'd say she's out for the night."
"Yeah, but you don't know her like I do. The lady's tougher than she looks. Drop her down."
Cain scrambled to let Buffy down, not wanting to spend a minute longer than necessary in the vampire's company. He hated vampires. Give him a freaky looking demon with green skin and two heads any day over a fanged monster masquerading as human.
"Bring her over here. Hurry now!" Spike rolled his wheels impatiently. The pain in his back and legs was excruciating but he wasn’t about to let the hunter know that. The sooner he could scoot off, the better, and he'd already fixed up a hidey hole nearby in which to stash the Slayer until he was finished with her.
Cain dragged Buffy up, her legs trailing, trying to heave her onto the vampire's lap without getting too close. "So, we're quits now? Debt repaid?"
Spike nodded, settling the Slayer so that he could move his arms freely. He spun the chair round and made off into the bushes.
"Yeah, Cain. Paid in full. Now piss off!"
The hunter sighed with relief when the vampire disappeared from sight. He snapped the barrel up on the rifle and set off to stalk his real prey, narrowly missing an anxious Giles in search of his Slayer.
+ + + +
Spike hadn't wanted to take her back to the factory even if he could. He hated the place now; it wasn't his anymore. Angelus had just walked in and taken over his home, his minions, and his lover. Drusilla was barely his when Angelus wasn't there, so with her precious daddy back and at full strength he hardly got the time of day from her.
He'd had enough. So he'd come up with a plan. Angel's blood was used to restore Drusilla; so all he needed was some restorative blood of his own. There was nothing mystical about his problem, he just needed rest, time and blood. And what could be better than Slayer's blood? He'd tasted it – twice – what a rush! It zinged along the veins and pepped a vamp up like nothing else. All it took was a little bit of investigating, something he accomplished through his one remaining loyal minion, and here he was.
Cain owed him for watching his back one night, and Spike wasn't one for letting a favour owed go unclaimed. He'd only done it by accident, wiping out the werewolf about to snack down on the hunter when it got too close to Drusilla. Daft bint wanted to take it home and call it Wuffles, cooing at it to bring it closer. Cain was about to get slashed by the business end of the werewolf's claws but Dru got in the way and Spike sailed in like her dark knight always did and ripped off its head. Cain shot it with a silver bullet to make sure, but the grateful hunter made a bargain with Spike to 'call on me if ever you need a favour'. At the time he hadn't known Spike was a vampire; he'd regretted the bargain ever since. Spike thought it was quite amusing at the time, that some human thought he could ever do anything for a master vampire, but Drusilla started wailing so he'd let the hunter go. And glad he was about it now.
Buffy snuffled and moved on his lap and Spike upped the pace, turning sharply to head down a gravelled roadway and into a disused shack. It was well hidden with brush and ivy and completely off the main road area. Nobody would stumble across it by mistake.
The door opened onto one small room, windows shuttered and dusty, floor crunchy with fallen dried leaves. Over in one corner was a mattress, a coverlet and pillow thrown carelessly on top; Spike had also stocked up on restraints, a selection of manacles and chains, and had made sure that the walls were sturdy enough to hold a ring through which to tether the Slayer. He'd even brought some snacks and drinks so that he could keep her alive long enough for her healing blood to work. He had no idea how much it would take; he just hoped that he'd be able to hold back after the first taste. Not a good idea to lose the source when he might need a top-up.
There was no doubt in Spike's mind that the Slayer would die, and at his hand. He'd offed two slayers before her and she was little more than a schoolgirl. Yeah, okay, she'd put him in a wheelchair and he'd so far been unable to even bruise her, but that was just bad luck. He had the upper hand now. His legs might be useless, temporarily, but there was nothing wrong with his brain.
He skilfully manoeuvred his chair into the shack, backing up slightly to shut the door behind him, and moving forwards then to the mattress. He shoved Buffy unceremoniously off his lap to land in a heap on top of the coverlet. She didn't move; whatever had been in the tranquilliser dart was good stuff.
Buffy's skirt had ridden up her thighs, her rounded ass clearly visible. She was wearing white, cotton panties and Spike felt a thrill of lust race through him as he looked at the helpless Slayer. He set the brake on his chair so that he could bend down and raise the skirt some more, groaning as the musky scent of her flooded his nostrils.
If only he his bloody legs would work! His brain was running on full erection alert, but sadly his cock wasn’t having any of it. Numb legs, numb groin, useless urges that had nowhere to go. He punched himself in the thigh, barely registering the thud and feeling no pain. He couldn't wait to get back in the saddle, so to speak. In fact, saddling up the Slayer was a very appealing notion. Whip her into shape. That’d be fun. Yeah, he could go for that.
Then rip out her throat and drain her lifeblood.
He wondered whether the sedative that Cain had tipped his darts with would leave her blood tainted, and if so for how long? He was eager to get started on his healthy new diet, but really, he couldn't risk it. He'd get her restrained first while she was still out, then sit back and wait.
+ + + +
It took a while, a whole lot of cursing and dropping of the Slayer's limp body, but he eventually managed to get her manacled and chained to the ring in the wall. For good measure he'd tied her ankles with thick rope and he'd managed to run his hands over her body while he was tying her up. Lovely; firm, ripe, luscious. Warm.
Odd how he missed the warmth. It had been so long since he'd felt a warm body next to his. True, while he'd been alive, it had only been his mother's warm hug as she comforted him after yet another excruciating evening. Purely maternal comfort, mind. He'd fucked a few humans since being turned, but fucking a Slayer? That must be the high point.
Maybe he wouldn’t be in such a hurry to drain her after all.
It took another half hour before Buffy opened her eyes. She blinked, head woozy and aching, the dart wound in her leg throbbing. She groaned, Spike sitting up straighter in his wheelchair as he watched her from the shadows. Buffy made to get up, landing back down hard on the mattress as the chains dragged her back. She tugged at the chains, face a mask of confusion as the drug addled her brain.
Spike barely stopped a chuckle from passing his lips. This was too funny! She was flapping around like a landed fish.
"Who's there? You've made a big mistake – huge." Spike said nothing. Buffy's tone changed to reasonable. "Look, you let me go, we can make a deal. Or at least, show yourself. Come on, come say hello. I won't bite."
"No, Slayer. But I will."
Dammit. He'd meant to keep back but he couldn't resist that line. He wheeled himself towards her, stopping just short of the mattress and out of range of her feet. Smirk fully deployed, he tilted his head and fixed her with amused blue eyes.
"Spike."
"In the flesh. How'd you like the new wheels? Meant to thank you for that, pet."
"You should have dusted."
"Yeah, well. I didn't. Can't be good for a Slayer having her major enemy escaping certain death."
"Major enemy? Please! You barely register on my radar. And I didn't care about you; I had to get Angel..."
Spike noticed the way her voice wavered as she said the name. Delicious! Another opening he just couldn't ignore.
"Oh, yeah – dear Angelus. He doesn't send his love, by the way. He's too busy shagging Dru. Funny, him coming back to us after all this time. Wonder how that happened?"
Buffy blushed, her eyes filling with tears. She couldn't help it, the pain was still raw.
"Come to think of it, he did mention fucking a girl and losing his soul. Oops. It wasn't you, was it? That's gotta sting a bit. And to think he said the girl wasn't even good. I feel sorry for you, Slayer."
Buffy couldn't help the tear from sliding down her cheek. Spike knew just how to twist the knife. He was right; she wasn't good - as the Slayer, as a girlfriend, in bed. She might as well just lie down and offer him her throat.
Spike was getting off on baiting the Slayer. Nothing like a war of words to get the blood pumping; but now she was slumped down against the wall, tears flowing, almost defeated. That wouldn't do; where was the fire?
"Hey, Summers. What’s up with the famous Slayer snark? It’s no good without the empty threats!"
"Leave me alone. If you're gonna kill me, just do it. I'm done."
"Nope, not gonna happen. I'm a master vampire, not about to slaughter you like a butcher does a pig. Gotta be some fun to it, or it's not worth the effort."
"Then let me go and I promise I'll be gentle with you."
Spike laughed. "Very funny. I've seen your idea of gentle, love. Tends to end up dusty. 'm not quite that desperate to see you fighting. Thought we might try something else..."
Buffy looked puzzled, brow creased in concentration. She picked up on Spike's meaning when his hand framed his crotch and he curled his tongue suggestively.
"No! You can't really think I'm gonna..."
"I don't think, Slayer. I know. Look, I'll give you a choice. I'm stuck in this chair until enough time passes for me to heal natural, like. I can leave you tied up there until your buddies find you and just let time tick on by; or – you give me a little nibble on that luscious neck and I get a Slayer blood booster. Fixes the legs and…. whatnot...and we both get the benefit." He raised his eyebrow and smirked.
Despite her conscious mind vehemently denying it, Buffy couldn't help but acknowledge a certain flicker of arousal at the thought of that very agile tongue swirling round her...parts. Spike had something, she'd give him that. Not that she was attracted to him; she was just acknowledging the fact objectively. He was deceptively lean, well muscled but not muscle-bound; his eyes were a startling shade of blue with glints of amber when he was excited, and he had cheekbones a model would die for. His jeans clung to him in just the right places, butt firm and high and he packed quite a large.... oh no; she was so not going there.
Spike knew, of course. He could smell her. Even if he couldn't, he was male and he could tell when he had a female taking the bait.
And Buffy was all but hooked and ready to reel in.
He watched her lick her lips, her eyes unfocused as her mind was obviously wandering. Wherever she was in her head, she wasn't here. Time to change that.
"Hey, Slayer. Time for a little taste, I think. Can't sit here spinning my wheels all day. What's it to be? Slow, painful death or a bit of bloodletting and some slap and tickle? I know which one I'm for, but what d'you say?"
It was unspoken, but Buffy knew that either way she was dead. The manacles were good quality; there was no way she was snapping out of them. The rope at her ankles, maybe she could get out of that but she was still tethered. She had no idea where she was so there was no telling how long it would take for Giles and the others to find her. It was a choice of die slowly or die fast. Unless...
"Okay. Say I take you up on your offer; we gonna fight at the end, all equal – Slayer and vampire? Give me a sporting chance?"
Spike considered. It appealed to him. When he'd been alive he'd been a man of honour and those values had translated as a vampire into only enjoying the kill when the prey was able to fight back. He smirked.
"Okay, Slayer. But you have to give me enough blood to heal or it's not a fair fight. Deal?"
Buffy's head snapped up, eyes glittering. She still had a chance. "Deal."
"Right then. Erm...I got you some snacks. Didn't know what you'd like..."
Buffy looked at the bags of chips and drinks, candy bars and chocolate that were just out of her reach on the floor by the mattress. Sugarific high ahead for sure.
"Been a long time since you've bought people food, huh?"
Spike smiled, almost embarrassed. It looked incongruous with his bleached blond hair and bad boy leather. Buffy wondered why it caused an answering smile to tug at her lips. "Yeah. Don't much need to. Although I do love those spicy wings they do at the Bronze."
Buffy found herself thinking what an unusual vampire he was. Most of them, even the older ones, thought of humans as nothing but food. They would never consider making a deal with one, especially not a Slayer. Slayers were an enemy to be feared, and slaughtered if possible. And yet, Spike was offering her an out, even if it was only a glimmer of a chance. Suddenly, he seemed more human to her than any vampire ever had, even Angel.
Angel. She had to stay alive so that she could see him dead. It was her duty as a Slayer. It was her duty because she was the cause of his reversion to Angelus. She owed it to her friends and to those innocent victims who would die a horrible, bloody death if he continued to exist.
So she would do whatever it took to survive so that she could stake the love of her life.
Spike reached down to pass her some of the food he'd gathered. She tore into it ferociously, her stomach rumbling with hunger. She'd no idea how long she'd been out but she was starving. And if Spike wanted her blood, she'd have to stock up on whatever he gave her. Strangely, she trusted him. She didn't know why, but when he'd agreed to give her a fighting chance if she helped him, it didn't cross her mind that he was lying to her. It should have; he was an evil vampire, but somehow she trusted his word. When did her world flip upside down?
When she'd finished eating and glugged down a carton of juice, she shifted around on the mattress uneasily. She'd only been bitten once, by the Master, and it had hurt so much. It sounded like Spike didn’t want to rush things. How much of that level of pain could she take?
"You done, Slayer?"
Buffy nodded, eyes looking down at her manacled wrists, the chain slack enough to let her move about some but not long enough to let her get a good punch in. She was dreading what was to come next.
"Come here then; I can't really come down there. It won't hurt. Well, it will – but I'll try to make it quick. Then we'll see where that leads us..."
Buffy's pulse quickened, whether with fear or anticipation, she didn't know. Both, probably. She shuffled along the mattress, kneeling up and swallowing hard, closing her eyes and angling her neck so that Spike could lean forward and…
Spike licked his lips. To be honest, he hadn't expected her to go through with it. Now that she was actually kneeling in front of him, neck bared to him, blood pumping just below the silky skin, he was momentarily stunned. He reached up and grabbed her arms, loving the feel of her warmth. She jumped slightly at his touch but stayed where she was, the only sign of her agitation her rapidly beating heart. He allowed his fangs to descend, the familiar pain as they pushed through his gums reassuring. The scent of her skin was intoxicating and Spike couldn't resist a quick swipe of his tongue along her flesh before biting down, his fangs pushing through and the rich, sweet blood flooding his mouth.
“Yessss…” Buffy moaned, leaning in closer to him. As she felt him bite down, she'd expected pain; not a bolt of lust to rocket through her and have her moaning like a whore. Each pull at her neck had her skin zinging with electricity, her hands now resting on his thighs and gripping him hard.
Spike struggled to control himself. He wanted to drink her dry, the taste of her blood, the feel of her hands on him - it was all too much. But he forced himself to withdraw his fangs, licking at the last droplets from her skin around the wound he'd made. He could feel her blood already working its magic; his legs were tingling, pins and needles deep in the muscles. He wasn't healed; it would take more than one feed for that to happen. But at least he knew that he'd been right.
Buffy collapsed against him, panting, weak from blood loss and the intensity of the feelings that his bite had unleashed. She chanced a look up at him, stunned by the way he was staring at her, his hands still gripping her upper arms. He was still vamped out, her blood staining his mouth and his eyes golden – but they weren't dead as she expected, and she wasn't as repulsed by him as she ought to be. He changed back to human guise as she watched him, his features evening out and his eyes fading from golden to soft blue.
"You alright, Slayer? Didn't take too much did I?"
"No, I'm good. Bit swoony, but...wow! That felt ... what did you do to me?"
Spike smirked; the Slayer got off on his teeth in her neck, did she? He knew it!
While she was still bemused by this unexpected side effect of vamp bites, he dragged her as close as the chains would allow and crushed his lips to hers. Buffy gasped, Spike taking advantage of her open mouth to slide his tongue along hers, coaxing her to join in. She did, instinct taking over as she curled her tongue around his and nibbled on his cool lips. Way back in her conscious mind she knew she should be disgusted – it was her blood she was sharing with him – but he tasted amazing. Her hands started to slide up his thighs, reaching for…she whimpered when the manacles bit into her wrists, the chain snapping to the limit of its reach – the tug dragging her back to reality.
She threw herself backwards and away from him, her hand on her mouth, fingers sweeping across her kiss-swollen lips. What the hell was she thinking? Letting a vampire – who wasn't Angel – kiss her? Kissing him back? Running her hands along his rock hard thighs? Wanting him to move against her, soothe the ache building inside her?
If only she'd known it, Spike's mind was going through much the same monologue. Kissing the Slayer? Wanting her so badly he thought he was going to explode? Aching to sink into her molten heat?
They both knew it was beyond wrong. Spike had intended this to be a bit of fun until he was all healed but after kissing her and his reaction to her touch, he was scared it could become much more than that. And terrified it wouldn't. Why shouldn't he have something of his own now that Dru was back in her Daddy's arms again?
"Buffy." Her name seemed alien coming from his lips. He said it again, softer this time.
Buffy looked at him, warily, her back pressed up against the wall.
He spoke gruffly. "You get some rest, need to get plenty of that blood made. I'll be back tomorrow after sundown. I'll bring some decent food. I'm...well, I'm not sorry. Felt good to me, and once I've had a few more long pulls on that magical liquid of yours, I'll show you how good it can feel to you."
Spike wheeled himself over to the door, turning as he shut it to see Buffy, still touching her lips with a small smile creeping up from behind her hand.
“Better than good, I promise.”
As he shut and locked the door, she stared after him.
And she found that it wasn’t fear she was feeling at the thought of him coming back to make good on his pledge.
THE END ....
or is it.....
Do you want some more? Shall I mark it 'TBC'?