He'd ventured half the world, searching for Drusilla. It had taken weeks of nonstop tracking, but he'd finally found her. It was a blissful, bloody reunion, full of the torturing Spike had promised. He'd thought they were on their way back to normal, well, normal for them and then she'd left him again. It was the bloody wank's fault. Drusilla would never forgive him for his hand in destroying Angelus, her beloved daddy. Spike nearly wretched at the thought. His hatred for Angelus had never been so pure.

Spike was jolted from his glorious hatred by a familiar feeling. His head snapped up instantly as he scanned the area. Nothing. But the feeling didn't dissipate. The sensation he'd always associated with his love, his dark goddess.

"Dru?" he pled.

Nothing.

"Dru?" he said again, this time the sound ending on a sob.

"Jesus, you're in even worse shape than you were the last time I saw your sorry ass," Buffy commented saucily.

Spike stared at the petite blonde, seething with hatred and embarrassment. How dare she ridicule him, she was probably the only person in the world with a love life more twisted than his own.

"I thought you were dead," he spit out.

Buffy just looked at him impassively. "I am."

Spike opened his mouth to laugh, but stopped. He took a small step towards her, studying her intensely. She wasn't kidding. The persistent irritating sound of her heartbeat was no longer present. Her perky chest no longer rose and feel with her breath. Her body was dead. She was a vampire. And still the feeling of familiarity didn't leave. The thought finally made it's way into his addled brain that the sensation was emanating from Buffy, not Drusilla. Spike swallowed visibly, unable to believe his eyes or his senses. It couldn't be.

"He turned you?" he said quietly, shocked to the core.

"No," she said quietly, "but I am his. Just like you are."

Now, Spike did laugh. "Sure, Princess," he said snidely, "keep dreaming."

Buffy's slight nod clearly implied that she didn't believe his denial. Slowly turning from him, she headed down the stone sidewalk towards the entrance of the cemetery. Spike didn't know what to do, his feet propelled him down the walk after her before his brain made the decision to follow. All of his thoughts of death and misery were gone, replaced by overwhelming curiosity.

She didn't slow and he didn't speed up. Spike simply followed at a distance of about half a block. Seemingly aimlessly, Buffy wandered around Sunnydale. Spike was seriously considering giving up his pursuit and finding a nice place to wait for the sunrise when the object of her attentions came into view. A small group of vamps, all fledglings. He had a momentary thought of warning them, but decided against it. He'd always respected the Slayer and he loved to watch her work. Stupid bastards didn't even know what was happening until she staked them. As she was wiping the dust off of her hands, Spike came to stand next to her.

"So you're still playing hero," he said, it wasn't a question.

"Comes with the territory," she replied.

When he cocked a brow at her, she elaborated. "Soul," she said, gently tapping her chest.

"Well, I'll be," he said, bemusedly, "so it's true that turned Slayers keep their souls."

"Guess so."

"And you and the poof are ..."

"Yes."

Spike took another small step towards Buffy, leaning down and smelling her neck. As was happening so often as of late, her vampire nature dictated her actions and she stood completely still allowing the inspection from her elder. The urge to push him away from her was strong, but the call to submit to her Sire's older childer was stronger.

Stepping back and clearing his throat, he said, "You smell different," his voice hoarse with emotion.

"So do you," she replied.

Spike looked at her, trying to place the sensation.

"You smell like ..." he said, trailing off.

"Home."

Spike narrowed his eyes. It was true. The feeling he feeling he got from her was one of absolute familiarity. One he only sensed from Drusilla, or more appropriately only acknowledged from Drusilla. He sensed it from Angel as well but chose to ignore it.

"Yes," he said rather morosely, "you smell like home, Princess."

"He misses you, Spike," she said quietly.

"Well I sure as Hell don't miss him!" Spike raged.

Ignoring his temper, Buffy replied calmly, "Yes you do."

Spike looked at her incredulously, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for some appropriately scathing parry. He found none. Buffy slowly extended her hand to him.

"Come home," she said.

To his own shock, Spike took her hand and followed silently as she led. Maybe it was curiosity about the Slayer, maybe it was joy over distraction from his misery, or maybe he just wanted to go home to the one place and the one being that truly was home for him, Angel.

The mansion was dark when they arrived, completely silent and empty. Spike removed his duster and watched silently as Buffy lit a fire and then walked to the refrigerator for a bag of blood. She offered him some but he declined with a grimace.

"Already ate, Pet," he replied.

Shooting him a wry look, Buffy took his hand and led him into the bedroom she shared with her Sire. It wasn't the same bedroom that Angelus had used during his tenure in the mansion. Spike wasn't shocked. Angel had always tried hard as hell to distance himself from his alter ego. Spike was shocked, however, when the former Slayer handed him a towel and pointed him towards the bathroom. He'd been hoping for at least a little heavy petting before the nonce got home. The
insinuation that he needed a good cleaning did nothing to improve his temper.

Once inside the bathroom, Spike took a moment to assess his appearance. Not in the mirror of course – not that there was one. How long had it been since he'd given even a passing thought to how he looked? Weeks? Months? He really didn't know. He quickly understood why the Slayer had ushered him to this room. He was filthy. His hands, his clothes, his hair, were all coated with any number of foul substances from dirt to rotting flesh to cum. He quickly removed his clothes, throwing them in a pile to be incinerated later.

From the bedroom, Buffy heard Spike start the water and step into the shower. Walking around the room, lighting candles, she pondered the evening. She was pleasantly surprised he had returned with her, figuring his stubbornness would have prevented him from accepting the truth. But he hadn't fought her, he'd simply followed in silent resignation. He was even more hurt and lost than she had originally feared. She gave a passing thought to Angel's reaction to Spike's presence. Odds were he wouldn't be pleased, but sometimes he needed to be shown the way as well. Removing all of her clothes, Buffy laid down on the huge bed she shared with Angel.

The sight that met Spike when he emerged from the bathroom brought his long neglected cock to instant hardness. Buffy was nude, lying on her stomach on Angel's massive bed. Her hair was strewn over the pillows and partly cascading down her back. She was watching him intently.

"Well, well, what have we here?" he asked playfully.

Seductively, Buffy rolled onto her side, giving him an unhindered view of her perfect breasts and the nest of dark curls hiding her femininity. Spike took a deep breath. Where had the meek little girl he knew gone? The one that thought only of her beloved Angel. The one that was blissfully unaware of the succulent sexuality she possessed. The woman before him knew exactly what she was doing ... and who was he to argue with her? With catlike grace he moved to the bed and laid down on his side facing his former mortal enemy, now sibling. He was perfectly still, waiting for her to begin.

What happened next was again not what he was expecting. She slowly ran her fingers over his face, gently tracing his eyebrows, the sharp curve of his jaw. The touch was undeniably sexual, but more than that, it was tender, loving. He had been prepared for her physical hunger, but not for her obvious affection. He whimpered softly as she laid on her back and coaxed his head to her chest. Like a frightened babe in need of reassurance, he rooted blindly for her nipple, suckling fervently as she ran her fingers through his hair, whispering words of comfort and love to him. Buffy held him that way, gently hushing his whimpers, assuaging his turmoil and confusion with her tender touch until he fell into sleep still suckling at her breast.

That was how they were when Angel returned hours later. He was aware of Spike's presence the moment he entered the mansion and he had flown from room to room searching for Buffy, terrified his elder childe would hurt her.

He was completely stunned to find Buffy cradling Spike, holding him tenderly to her body, still whispering softly to his unconscious form. The surprise quickly turned into anger. Sensing this, Buffy met his gaze, unashamed. Extending a hand she beckoned him to the bed.

"He needs you," she said softly.

Angel let out a low growl. It was a warning to give the trespasser time to ponder his fate before being eviscerated. Spike's eyes shot open and he attempted to move, but Buffy held him still. As Angel stalked to the bed, Buffy rose to straddle Spike, effectively blocking Angel from harming him without harming her as well.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Angel spat at his youngest childe.

Calmly Buffy again extended her hand. "Come to bed."

Angel took a deep breath to calm himself before he lost control and backhanded her across the bed. The smells he inhaled brought him back to reason. There was the scent of both of their arousal, but it was stale and there was no aroma of sex. He looked them both over closely, no marks of passion evident on either of them. Buffy had simply been comforting her estranged sibling.

Sensing the change in her Sire, Buffy leaned forward and began to unbutton his shirt, placing tender nips along the skin she uncovered. Beneath her, Spike breathed a sigh of relief. When he'd woken he was sure Angel was going to rip him limb from limb, but for some reason Buffy seemed determined to prevent that from happening. He watched his Sire and sibling closely, his cock stirring despite his mental protests.

Feeling Spike's erection brush the inside of her thigh, Buffy moved off of him and farther onto the bed. Pulling Angel's hand, she urged him to lay on the bed between his childer. Spike and Angel eyed each other warily, allowing the contact only out of their mutual desire to see what Buffy was up to. It didn't take long to figure out.

The former Slayer quickly helped her Sire out of his clothes and moved to straddle his hips, his erection jutting against her hidden lips. Leaning over him she caught his mouth in a violent kiss, causing him to buck under her tiny body. As she did this, she kept one hand firmly on Spike's hip, preventing him from rolling away from the involved couple and in fact drawing him nearer. Reaching her other hand between her legs, Buffy gently grasped Angel's erection and lowered herself onto it, hissing as she slid him to the hilt. Eyes closed she began to ride him gently, blindly reaching for Spike's hand.

When she found it, she pressed his palm against her lower abdomen, her eyes meeting his as his hand made contact. She smiled, continuing to ride her Sire. Spike could feel the pressure of Angel's cock deep inside his youngest childe. He moaned as the rush of lust hit hard. Beside him Angel growled again, but this time it wasn't a warning sound, it was one of extreme pleasure.

Buffy looked at Spike and then back to Angel, silently begging her Sire permission. With a curt nod, Angel granted it. Slowly Buffy hand left Spike's and ventured back to his hip, making small circles. As it moved lower, Spike rolled onto his back to allow her better access. When her tiny hand finally made contact with his stiff cock he yelped, his hips coming off of the bed. Buffy stroked in time to her movements on Angel.

Her Sire, striving for release, grasped her hips and pulled her roughly down on his cock, pounding into her until he threw his head back and howled in release. Buffy continued to move her hand on Spike's cock while Angel recovered.

Spike was nearly mindless with pleasure by the time Angel moved Buffy's hand away. Spike's eyes shot open in confusion, preparing for an onslaught of excruciating pain. Instead, he looked down just in time for him to see his Sire engulf his precum coated cock in his own mouth, sucking harshly.

"Sire!" Spike shouted, his hips bucking up to drive his cock farther down Angel's oddly willing throat.

Given Angel's centuries of practice, it wasn't even a minute before he had Spike moaning, his cum streaming into his Sire's waiting mouth. As Angel let Spike's softening cock slip from his mouth, swallowing his cum, Spike eyed him warily. He did not, however attempt to prevent Angel from rolling him onto his side and pulling him flush against his body, Angel's chest pressed tightly against Spike's back. Buffy laid on the other side of Spike, staring contentedly into his eyes.

"You didn't come, Princess," Spike noted.

"Tonight wasn't about me, William," Buffy countered softly. "Welcome home."

With that, the three slipped into sleep.

The End

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