Summary: Spike and Buffy dance at the Bronze. To start with, anyway...
Spoilers: Up to Wrecked and inspired by spoilers beyond that.
Distribution: Please ask my permission first, just so I know where it's
headed.
Disclaimer: All hail Joss Whedon, UPN, the WB, FOX , Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox Film Corporation. Theirs not mine. Author's Note: PWP with no redeeming value whatsoever. Just two crazy kids getting their groove on. Feedback: Sure, fire away to jodyorjen@yahoo.com
Chapter 7: Drink Deep
The stupid girl has no idea what she has done. As I stare down into her eyes, there is no flicker of understanding within them. Love, fear, desire; I recognize them all. But there is no knowledge, no acceptance.
“What do you mean, eternity?” Buffy asks me. As I open my mouth to answer, the chip fires in my head. Sparks flare and scorch within my brain. The agony overwhelms me. Suddenly I am elsewhere.
A familiar body lies in my embrace. I know the muscles under my hands, the dark hair brushing my cheek. His scent has been in my head for over a century. The taste of him fills my mouth. It is Angelus. Angel.
Pulling away from him, I look around. We are in bed, in my crypt. Fang marks in his neck are purple and vicious. Buffy is lying beside me, sleeping. Tara is on the floor, grasping for breath. A dark bruise is forming on the witch’s cheek. “Tara, what is going on?”
She looks dazed, her hand touching her cheek. “You hit me. I was trying to get you to let go of Angel. He had begun to struggle, and I thought you were hurting him.”
Guilt washes over me. “I’m so sorry, love. I didn’t know what I was doing. I wasn’t in my right mind.”
She sits on the edge of the bed, smiling at me. “I forgive you. At least you didn’t punch me in the nose this time.”
Between us, Angel stirs. He looks up at me, wincing with pain. “You always were a greedy little bloodsucker, William. You could have shown a little restraint.”
“Don’t see any reason to start changing now, mate,” I say.
He gives me a searching look. “I can think of a few.”
Tara puts her hand up. “Don’t start with all the male ego posturing now, guys. Buffy really wouldn’t like it.”
We all turn in unison to look at her. Buffy is deeply asleep. Dark circles under her eyes and the tense set of her jaw show the depth of her exhaustion.
“Buffy needs her rest. She’s been running herself ragged trying to heal you, Spike. Not to mention the spells that we did tonight and the work on the astral plain,” says Tara.
She stands, reaching out to Angel. “Speaking of which, we should be getting our rest too. Cordelia must be waiting up for you. You shouldn’t worry her.”
Angel rises to his feet. “I want to make sure that Buffy will be okay.”
“It’s my job to take care of her, not yours.” Bloody poof always does horn in where he’s not wanted.
He stares at me. “You’re right. I have responsibilities of my own now.”
Tara kisses my cheek. “I’m so very glad that you’re all right. As soon as you can, you have to see Dawn. She has been worried sick about you.” She climbs the steps to the upper level.
Angel turns to follows her. I call after him. “Angel. I’m- grateful. Sharing your blood. You doing that for me.”
He doesn’t turn back. “I didn’t do it do it for you.” I hear the door to the upper crypt slam shut as they depart. I get out of the bed, pulling back the covers. Taking off Buffy’s clothes, I tuck her in. Delighting in the sight of her in my bed, I play with her hair, stretching out tendrils all over the pillow. Her mouth opens, her tongue flickering over her lips. I bend down and kiss her.
God, I want her. I want to lick every inch of her. I want to fuck her until she screams. Sighing, I climb back underneath the sheets. Turning out the light, I roll away from her so that we do not touch. Slayer needs her rest.
I wake up to the sound of screaming. “Dru, love. It’s alright,” I say groggily. Reaching out my arm, I touch warm flesh. I remember, and fully awaken. Snapping on the light, I embrace Buffy. She is still screaming.
I shake her gently. Her eyes pop open, wide and searching. Seeing me there, she falls forward, wrapping herself around me. “You were gone. You were dead,” she says, holding me tightly.
“I’m right here, love,” I say, “I’ve got you.”
Her mouth covers mine. Her hard nipples brush against my chest. I run my hands through her hair, cupping the back of her head. Her nails scrape down my back, stinging trails rising in their wake.
My hands trail down her back to her ass. I grab her roughly, lifting her. She sinks down on top of me, throwing back her head. We move together, falling into a trance of shared sensation.
“You’re mine,” she says, and I know she is about to come for me. I increase the pace, burning with need for her. She begins to chant, “You’re mine, I need you, you’re mine,” as she moves around me. I work within in her, pounding at her with all the passion I feel for her.
Suddenly, she stops, looking deeply in my eyes. “I love you.” We stare at each other, not moving. “I am in love with you.” Still joined together, she rolls on her back, pulling me on top of her. She unwraps her arms from mine, grabs both my hands, twining my fingers with hers.
I brace myself on my elbows as she stares up at me, holding my hands. “I love you,” she says again, “and I never want to lose you again.”
“Never happen,” I tell her.
“Swear it,” she whispers, her eyes filled with need.
“I will never leave you, Buffy, I will be with you until the very end.” I kiss her, and we both feel the truth in it.
I move within her. Slowly, gently, we make love. I close my eyes and see fleeting visions that I can’t grasp onto and don’t understand. As we move, I hear her whisper in my ear, words of love repeated over and over. Words of devotion, of secrets revealed, of paradise gained.
I hear her scream and I scream along with her. The pleasure that I find with her scalds me, burns me through and through. I feel the sun, the bright rays burning down on me. Warm, glowing, I rest upon her chest.
We must have fallen asleep, because when I awaken, the room is black, the only illumination the small pool of light from the lamp. Buffy sits in my chair, chatting quietly on her phone. I sit up, and she turns to me.
She covers the phone with her hand. “Are you up for going home and having pizza with Dawn?”
“Sure, sounds good.” “We’ll be there in half an hour, Dawnie. Be sure to find out what Cordy likes on her pizza. Can I pick up what? Sure, I can do that.” Hanging up, she jumps on my bed. “Up, up, lazybones. Get up, up, up.” I grab her leg, knocking her down. She kisses me, then slaps my ass. “Get a move on. We’ve got company waiting.”
I get up, pulling on my clothes. “Just the great bleeding poof and his prissy little sidekick. No great shakes there.” Buffy shakes her head. “There’s someone there you’re definitely going to want to meet.”
We walk together, hand in hand, through the cemetery. “We have to come back later and patrol,” says Buffy. “I’ve been pretty slack lately.” “I’m up for kicking some ass,” I say. She laughs. “Yeah, you always are.”
Walking through Sunnydale, Buffy stops off at a convenience store. She goes in, while I take the opportunity to grab a smoke. Leaning against the wall outside, blowing smoke in the air, I look up at the stars. I can’t remember ever feeling so good, so content.
Buffy comes out, handing me a paper sack holding bottles of soda. She carries a plastic bag of diapers. “Why are you buying nappies?” I ask her, grinning. “Something biologically impossible that you’re trying to tell me?”
“They’re for Connor,” she replies. “Angel’s son. The biologically impossible baby.”
I stop, staring at her. “What in the bloody hell do you mean?” She turns, looking at me. “Darla and Angel had a son. His name is Connor.” My mind reels. “But that’s-“
“Not possible,” she says, “I know that, you know that. But he’s here.”
“Darla too?” Is still can’t believe it.
She shakes her head. “Darla’s dead.”
“How?” Darla …dead?
“I don’t know, I just know she’s gone,” she tells me. “Angel’s not really into chatting about the whole situation.”
We continue on, carrying our bags. “This should be one hell of an interesting evening.”
Walking into the house on Revello Drive, we are hit with a cacophony of noise. A crying baby and a screaming match are right in front of us. Cordelia is patting the back of a sobbing baby, glaring at Willow, who is screaming at a crying Tara and a stony faced Angel.
“How could you be so stupid?” yells Willow. “I didn’t bring her back from the dead so that she could-“
Turning to look at us as we enter, Willow falls silent. Cordelia turns, stalking into the living room. I turn to look at Buffy. Her face is hard, her eyes cold as they bore into Willow. ”Please do finish that sentence, Will. I’m sure you weren’t going to say anything you wouldn’t tell me to my face.”
Willow lifts her chin, meeting Buffy’s eyes. “I didn’t bring you back from the dead so that you could spend all your time screwing yet another vampire.”
Stalking over to Willow, Buffy raises her arm to strike her. Angel grabs her arm, holding it still. “Don’t do this, Buffy. Don’t do something you’ll regret.”
“Get your goddamn hand off my woman, Angelus.” My woman now, not his.
Angel smirks at me, not moving his hand. “Your woman? Don’t you mean to say your wife?”
Buffy spins and stares at me, eyes open wide.
The jig is up.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Chapter 8: Revelations
I look at Spike, my mind spinning with disbelief.
Grabbing my hand, he pulls me back outside, slamming the front door. He
steers me over to the tree in the front yard, bracing my back against the
trunk. Holding tightly to my shoulders, he stares down at me intently. “I
love you.”
“Just tell me if it’s true. Are we married? How is that even possible?” I
look at him in disbelief.
“When you brought me back. The words you spoke. They were a vow, Buffy.” He
looks at me earnestly. “I tried to tell you what you were getting into. It
was sealed with blood, girl. It linked us together forever.”
I remember the words that I spoke to return him to me. Raising the chalice
to his lips, forcing him to drink. “I told Tara that I was willing to do
anything, to risk everything, to get you back. She told me the ritual would
bind us, that we would be pledged to each other.”
He sighs. “But you don’t understand the consequences, Buffy. We are joined
as one, eternally. You don’t comprehend what that means.”
“All I need to know if that you’re here and you’re not going anywhere.
Nothing else really matters to me.” I pull him down, kissing his lips.
He tries to break away. “Buffy, we have to talk about this…”
“Why didn’t you explain this in the crypt? Why didn’t you tell me then?”
I’m really not in the mood for talking.
“I wasn’t sure how to tell you, how to explain it. You finally told me that
you love me. I’ve wanted it for so long, Buffy. I was afraid you’d get
scared, run away…“ I pull away, turning around. He grabs my shoulder. He
looks at me, his eyes hard. His grip on me tightens painfully. ”You can’t
push me away. Not ever again.“
I break free of his hold. “Look, Spike. You can explain all of this
mystical marriage stuff later. But I have to go in there and try to cool
things off in the real world.” Turning my back on him, I go back inside.
The foyer is empty. My friends are gathered around in the living room,
looking stiff and uncomfortable. Everyone except Willow and Dawn is there.
There is no sound, no conversation.
“How could you, Buffy?” Xander looks up angrily, his face stern. “Tara and
Angel told us what they did. How could you let them manipulate you?
Tara leaps to her feet. “That is not true, Xander. I would never manipulate
anyone-“
Xander glares at her. “I am so tired of witches playing God-”
I raise my voice. “Okay, that’s enough. Let me just explain. You don’t need
to attack Tara.”
Xander steps in front of me, his face close to mine. “You didn’t even tell
us that you were seeing him, much less that loved him, and now we’re just
supposed to accept that you married him in some voodoo hoodoo magic thing?
This is insane. You can’t love Spike. He’s a vampire, a big bad. He’s the
evil stalker guy. How could you even let him touch you?”
Anger and humiliation wash over me. ‘What gives you the right to judge me?
Judge him?”
Spike pulls me in closely, wrapping his arm around my waist.“There is
something seriously wrong with you. The Buffy I loved, that Buffy wouldn’t
have done this. That Buffy didn’t give Spike the time of day. We never
should have done that spell to bring you back.” Xander’s disgust is
palpable, infusing every syllable of his words.
Horrified, I cover my mouth, biting back a sob. Spike steps in front of me.
“Leave her alone,” he says menacingly.
“You’re the one who needs to leave her alone,” Xander shouts. ”Screwing
with her head. Using her for your perverted-“
Xander flies against the wall, crashing down. In a flash, Spike is holding
him up by the collar, hitting him again. Xander slides across the floor,
crashing into the opposite wall. “You don’t know anything about what we
have,” hisses Spike, appearing over him.
Angel grabs Spike, pulling him down the hall towards the kitchen. “That’s
enough, Spike. You’ve made your point.”
Cordelia follows, Connor on her chest in a baby carrier. “I’ll make Xander
an ice pack for his face. Sure looks like he needs one.”
Anya and I both bend down to help up Xander. Blood flows from his nose.
‘Get away from me. I don’t want to have anything to do with you,” he says,
pushing me away again. Anya helps him up, pressing a tissue to his nose.
Without another word, they leave.
I stand there, stunned. Tara pulls me into a hug.” It’ll be okay, Buffy.
He’s just shocked. This will all blow over before you know it.”
I let her rock me for a moment, feeling comforted. Reluctantly, I break
free. “I don’t think he...”
The doorbell rings. I run to the door, throwing it open. “Xander-“
A pizza delivery boy is standing there, laden with boxes. “That’ll be
$35.62, ma’am.”
I turn around, looking for my purse. I grab the cash and hand it to him.
“Keep the change.”
I put the pizza boxes on the table in the dining room. Willow is typing on
her computer. She won’t make eye contact. Walking into the kitchen, Dawn is
holding the baby, chatting with Cordelia.
“He is so cute. But I don’t know how you can stand listening to him cry. I
had to put some music on, slap on my headphones to drown it out…” Seeing
me, she smiles. “Where is Spike?”
Right on cue, Angel and Spike come in through the kitchen door. They have
on matching grim expressions. Spike’s face lights up when he sees Dawn. He
wraps his arm around her shoulder and kisses her cheek. “Missed you to
pieces, bit.”
She hugs him back hard. “I’m so glad that you’re okay.”
Spike looks down. “So this is the spawn of Angelus, right?” He looks at
Angel. “Can I hold him?” he asks. Angel looks at him as if he has grown
another head. “I just want to hold him, not eat him,” he says
sarcastically. Dawn carefully hands him Connor. Spike cradles the baby,
looking at him with delight. He paces around the room. “You look like your
mum,” he says. “What a bitch she was. Bleeding gorgeous woman, though. Good
thing you take after her. Your dad’s got an ugly mug. What with the big
brow and all.” Spike gestures at his forehead.
I look over at Angel, expecting an imminent meltdown. But he is just
watching with a small smile on his face. At that moment, it hits me that he
really is a father. His face is full of pride, and unconditional love. The
baby starts to cry. Spike whispers in his ear, patting him gently on the
back. Soon the baby is asleep. Spike watches him closely, his face open and
happy. I’ve only ever seen him look that way at Dawn, or me.
It feels like someone is squeezing a fist around my heart. The love that I
feel is overwhelming. I don’t even realize that I’m crying until Angel puts
his hand on my shoulder. “Buffy, are you okay?” I try to answer him, but I
can’t choke out the words. Turning, I walk through the door onto the back
porch. I sit in the dark, pulling myself together.
The door opens and Spike sits down next to me. He turns my face towards
him, wiping away my tears with his thumb.
“I’m never going to have a normal life,” I say. “Xander and Willow, they
understand that being with you is not normal. They want me to be happy, to
have all the stuff everyone else wants. Marriage, house, minivan, kids.”
I look over at him. He is staring at me, thoughtfully. “Well, truly enough
I’m not the white picket fence kind of guy.”
“We’ll never have that. No big, fancy wedding. No Tupperware parties.” I
fight to keep tears out of my eyes. “No babies. I mean, not that I would
even know what to do with a baby. But knowing, that it will never, never be
us. It hurts.”
He sighs, stroking my hair. “Well, you could have that. Just not with me.
With someone else-”
Turning to him, I cup his face in my hands. “I’m yours. You’re mine. There
is no one else.”
He kisses me fiercely, his hands threaded in my hair. I slip my hands
underneath his shirt, feeling the coolness of his skin.
Our kiss continues, deepens. I can tell him everything with my body that it
is so hard to say. How much I need him. How desperate I was at the thought
of losing him. How beautiful he is to me.
He pulls me into his lap, holding my hips and rubbing me against his
erection. It feels too good, leaving us panting. “God, I want to take you,”
he murmurs in my throat. He bites my neck, small bites that deepen as his
arousal grows. My nipples harden and I grow wet, needing more. He slides
his hand in my pants, slipping a finger inside me. “I’ve got to get in
there,” he says, biting my ear.
“We can’t, not here,” I whisper.
“Take me elsewhere right quick then,” he says, “I’m not going to wait.” His
hand slides up to my waistband, ready to rip off my pants. Looking in his
face, I see he is barely holding on. Spike’s ready to take me right there,
on the porch.
Pulling him through the empty kitchen, we hear laughter and chatting from
the dining room. We run upstairs. Slamming and locking the door, Spike
tosses me on my bed. He sheds his clothing as I strip off mine. He stands
there, staring at me. “I’ve dreamed of this so many times,” he says. “You
waiting for me, warm and naked in this bed.”
Suddenly, he is on me, in me. “My sweet girl, mine,” he growls, raising up
my hips and driving deeper inside me. I clench my muscles around him,
making him moan. “You’re mine to take, mine to fuck,” he growls. “No one
else will ever touch you, never again.” His jaw sets, and I know he is
already on the edge.
I tighten my hold on him, increasing the pace. Licking his neck, I can
smell the blood under the surface. I crave it inside me, wanting it as much
as the cock pulsing between my legs. Biting down hard on the throbbing vein
in his neck, I drink deep, gulping greedily. The blood in my mouth is so
rich, so good. Dimly, I feel a pain in my shoulder as Spike sinks in his
fangs. We both come, groaning in unison.
My mind expands as knowledge pours into it. I gain the memories of well
over a hundred years. Birth, love, fear, pain, death, filtered through the
mind of someone I don’t know. I witness the birth of a vampire. I am
flooded with the essence of Spike. Learning how to seduce, how to kill, how
to hide. The rush to be gained from mortal fear, the thrill of the chase,
the eternal temptation of blood, burn into me. I gain the shame of being
helpless, the blooming of affection, the crush of rejection. I am filled
with the light of hope, the ecstasy of the claiming and the triumph of
love.
Suddenly, I am elsewhere. Turning around, I see that I am in Spike’s crypt.
The windows are thrown open, flooding the room with light. Spike is lying
on my bed in the center of the crypt. He naps like a cat, basking in the
glow of direct sunlight. Walking around, I see a pitcher on a side table,
blood pouring into two cups simultaneously. A weapons rack holds shining
swords and brightly tipped arrows. Walking down the stairs, I venture into
the lower crypt.
I am inside the chapel where the sleeping princess was. The roses are in
bloom, filling the room with their scent. But the altar is gone. In its
place is a large mirror on a stand. Standing before the mirror, I look into
its depths. I see the ebb and flow of human life laid out before me.
Generations are born, live, and die.
Tilting the mirror, I can see my reflection. Standing next to me is Spike.
He is wearing chain mail, brandishing a sword. I realize my image is
dressed in a long flowing gown, crown on my head. I hold a golden chalice
in my hand. Cuffs and a chain connect our wrists. I turn my head away from
the mirror, expecting to see Spike. But I am alone. I turn and leave the
chapel.
I turn and leave the chapel and go back upstairs. This time, I pay more
attention to the room around me. My trunk lies in the corner. A display
case of miniatures is mounted on the wall. The people I love are there,
laid out row after row, interspersed with many I don’t recognize. Picking
up a smashed one, I reassemble the image. It is Drusilla.
A large wooden bookshelf is filled with volumes. They are bound in either
black or white, titles lettered in gilt. I scan the titles: “Slayers”…
“Demons”… “Fighting Moves”… ”Poetry”… “Skating”… “Magic”… “Heaven”.
I turn back to the bed, where Spike still rests. Lying down with him, I
rest my head against his, and sleep.
A knocking at the door wakes me up. Looking around, I am back in my room.
Spike lies next to me, sleeping. Pulling on a robe, I cover him up with a
blanket before opening the door.
Tara is standing there. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but you’ve been up here
for a while now and Dawn is worried that something is wrong.”
I step out onto the hall, closing the door behind me. Tara looks at me.
“You should straighten yourself up. You’ve got blood on your mouth.” Wiping
it away with my hand, I wander into the bathroom. “Want me to slip in there
and get you some clothes?” she offers.
I nod, brushing my teeth. Tara returns with a pair of underwear, a soft
blue sweater and skirt, placing them on the toilet tank.
“That boy sleeps like the dead.” She turns and grins, then stares at me
oddly. “Are you okay?” “I’m fine, Tara.” I tell her.
She really does look worried. “You look a little- weird.”
I take a good look at myself in the mirror. I look pale, and my eyes are
bloodshot. Pulling my robe aside, I take a good look at the bite and
bruising on my shoulder. They are barely visible. As I look at the injury,
it heals completely, the black and blue marks fading away and holes
disappearing. Tara gasps. “Buffy, what was that?”
“I’m not sure.” I try to sound reassuring. “It must have something to do
with the bond. Super healing. Craving blood. It’s like parts of us are
merging together. We are wed, literally.”
She is horrified. “But if you’d known. What it would mean. You’d never have-
“
“I would have.” Don't do this, Tara. I owe you everything. You gave him
back to me. “Whatever the consequences are. I just can’t lose anyone else I
love, not again.”
She looks into my eyes, and sees the truth there. I see the strain leave
her face. She gives me a searching look. “Are you going to be all right,
Buffy? Do you even understand what this bond really is?”
“No. But I’ll figure it out.” I give her a weak smile. “I’ll be fine. Tell
everyone I’ll be down in a minute.”
I shower quickly. Dressing myself in clean clothes, I comb my hair and put
on a little makeup. Looking in the mirror, I see the same old regular
Buffy. It’s like nothing has changed.
All of a sudden, I feel a chill down my spine. The chip. Spike hit Xander,
and nothing happened to him.
On second thought, everything has changed.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Chapter 9: Pay The Piper
I awaken abruptly, disturbed by an unfamiliar noise. A heartbeat. The sound rings all through my head, echoing in my ears. I put my hands over my chest, but I don’t feel anything. Without warning or volition, my demon is called forth. I try to control it, to force it back down. For the first time in a century, I can’t.
Pictures rise unbidden in my mind. I see a stake flying through the air, smashing into a vampire. More come forward to attack. Buffy. I can see what Buffy is seeing. Feel what she is feeling. Hear her heart beating, throbbing frantically.
Pulling on my clothes, I run down the stairs and into the kitchen. Tara and Angel are sitting at the counter, quietly talking. Seeing my face, Tara squeaks in surprise and Angel shoves her behind him. “I’m not going to hurt her, you nit,” I say.
I go to the living room and pull out a crossbow and stakes from the weapons chest. Angel follows me. “Why do you have your game face on?” he asks.
“I don’t know what’s going on, alright? I can see through Buffy’s eyes and I can’t control my demon,” I explain. ”What’s important now is that she’s in trouble, seriously outnumbered.” I stuff bolts for the crossbow in my jacket, handing one stake to Angel and tossing another to Tara as we race out the back door.
‘Where is she?” asks Angel.
The images in my mind continue to flow. “She’s in the cemetery, near my crypt. Just follow me.”
Angel and I are running as fast as we can, leaving Tara behind. Angel scoops her up and we take off again. My mind continues to see the fight. Buffy is agile, amazingly fast, her movements a blur.
Jumping over headstones, cornering around tombs, we run to her. Turning a bend, I duck just as something flies over my head. A puff of dust bursts against the wall of my crypt.
Buffy stands a little ways away, holding two vamps, a collar clenched in each of her hands. “You know guys, I really have something better to do.” She looks up, catching my eye. “Speaking of which, there he is.” She smashes their heads together with tremendous force, dusting them instantly.
A quartet of vampires advances on her. A small female vampire comes over to me, waving her hands in supplication. I move into a fighting stance, fists up and ready. “Please, I don’t mean you any harm,” she says earnestly. “I have a message for you from our mistress. She sends her congratulations on your marriage-“
Suddenly she disappears. Tara stands before me, wielding a stake. “Got her!” she says proudly.
“Uh, yeah. Good job, kitten.” I pat her on the shoulder, sighing.
Buffy and Angel are fighting back to back. They are both in rare form, sending vampires scattering with strong punches and kicks. Buffy seems much stronger than usual, her movements a blur.
“Any of you other idiots got a message to pass on?” I yell. One vampire comes towards me. Tara rounds around behind him and dusts him.
“Look, Wicca, I understand that you’re trying to help here,” I say impatiently. “But will you knock it off long enough for me to find out who sent these twits?”
Tara furrows her brow, instantly contrite. “I’m sorry, Spike. I just don’t want you get hurt again.”
I feel like a total ass. ‘Sorry, love-“
“Look out!” screams Tara, just as something lands hard on my back.
A voice whispers, “Drusilla says to tell you that Miss Edith knows how to undo what your Slayer has done…“
The voice cuts off as I hear Buffy scream, “Get off my boyfriend, you creep!”
Rolling over, I look up at Buffy. She hauls me to my feet, patting me all over. “Are you okay?” Her face is tight and looks scared.
“I’m fine, pet. I really can take care of myself, contrary to what you birds seem to think.” Next they’ll be trying to tie my shoelaces for me.
Angel looks over at me, a smirk on his face. Buffy sticks her stake back in her coat. She is glowing, all pumped up from the fight.
“Buffy,” I begin, but I am cut off by her kiss. Her mouth is so soft and warm. Deeply, thoroughly, she plumbs my mouth with her tongue. Her breathing is fast and urgent, her heartbeat more rapid. She breaks the kiss and look up at me. Pressing me up against the crypt wall, she whispers in my ear. “I have to drink you now.” She brings her mouth to my neck and bites down hard. She sucks strongly, her hands pressing hard on my chest. I close my eyes, lost in the feeling of pleasure. Slowly, her heartbeat fades, and I feel my demon recede.
Buffy pulls away. She turns around and sees Tara and Angel standing there. Angel looks both aroused and angered, while Tara has covered her mouth, her eyes wide and horrified.
She turns back, looking at me. Her mouth is dark with my blood. “Something strange is happening to me,” she says. Her eyes roll up as her knees buckle. I catch her before she hits the ground, cradling her in my arms.
“Let’s go inside,” I say to Angel and Tara. We go into my crypt. I lay Buffy gently on the couch, giving her a peck on the forehead.
Angel turns on me, furious, pointing at Buffy. “I never should have let her do the ritual,” he says. “I thought it was a stupid, dangerous idea from the time she mentioned it. She just wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
“If she’d bothered asking me what I wanted, I’d never had let her do it,” I say softly.
Angel scoffs. “Sure, Spike. You’d really have told the woman that you love that you’d rather die than be with her.”
“I would have, you great stupid poof. She had no idea what she was doing.” I sit down heavily in my chair. “I’m beginning to think that I didn’t have any idea what we were getting into either.”
”Buffy told me that she craved blood,” says Tara shakily. “But what she did to Spike, biting him like that...” She looks up at Angel warily. “What is going on?”
“The bond is supposed to unite two vampires for eternity,” explains Angel. “It increases their vampire strengths, because they are combined. Any advantage is made twice as great.” He glares at me. “And any weakness is increased twice as well. If one of them dies, they both die. They are tied, unlife to unlife.”
“But that didn’t apply to Buffy,” Tara argues. ‘She a human being, she doesn’t have vampire strengths. We talked about this. The strengths and weaknesses of the bond can’t apply, because she’s not a vampire. She can’t tie her life to Spike’s. She’s alive.”
Blown away by their stupidity, I stand up and yell at her. “You stupid bints!” Tara stares at me, shocked.
“You thought this was just some meaningless lark? That there wouldn’t be any consequences, any debt to be paid for gaining my life?” I walk over and punch the wall, causing bits of stone to trickle down. “Buffy’s not just a human. She’s the Slayer! She has her own strengths and weaknesses. Not to mention, her own altered lifespan. The girl has died twice, the last time for months!” I turn on Angel. “I thought you said you’d argued with her about it, that she rebutted your arguments.”
He looks over at me, his eyes dark with pain. “She said that she’d discussed the bond with Tara, and she’d already made up her mind. We didn’t discuss the ramifications, she seemed to know and accept them.”
I grab Angel by the lapels. “So you mean to tell me that neither of you had the slightest idea what was really going on?”
Angrily, Angel pushes me back. Towering over me, he snarls, his demon taking over his face . “So help me, William, I…” Tara grabs him arm, holding him back.
“Am I turning into a vampire?” a small voice asks. Buffy is sitting up on the couch, her knees pressed to her chest, arms holding her tight. I go to her.
Picking her up, I settle her back down in my lap. Tara and Angel look at her worriedly. “No, love,” I reassure her. “ No more than I’m going to have my heart start beating or taking strolls at noon. But our traits do seem to be overlapping.”
“Your traits, like the blood drinking.” She looks up at me with wide green eyes. ‘So the immortality thing is true, too? It really does apply to us? You get dusted by someone, and I die?”
“And the opposite is true. You die, and I die too. That’s what it means to be bonded, love,” I explain. “We’ve wedded strengths and wedded weaknesses. Wedded our entire existences, our entire lives.”
Buffy looks serious, but not overwhelmed. I’ll take that as a good sign.
“But that may not be the case,” interjects Tara. “If what’s happening to you is different because Buffy is the Slayer, we have no way of knowing what else is going to happen. We don’t know what other weird side effects this is going to have.”
Buffy looks up at me. “Your chip. When you hit Xander, did your chip go off?”
I pause, taken aback by the question.“ Well, yeah, of course it did.” I think back. “The chip went off, but I could work past it. It happened once before. He really pissed me off and I slammed him into a tree. This time, I was so angry at him for hurting you…” I trail off, confused. “ I don’t know if it did or not.”
“Hit me,” says Tara. She pulls a face at me. ‘Hey, this time I’m volunteering.”
I get up and stand in front of her, hesitantly swinging at her. Nothing happens. ‘I really don’t want to hurt you, Tara. It won’t work if I don’t want to cause you harm.”
She looks thoughtful, and then gives me an assessing look. “I learned some interesting things about you when I was healing you, Spike.” She wraps her arms around my neck, whispering in my ear. “Things haven’t changed a bit in a hundred years, William. No one likes you. No one respects you. Underneath all the attitude and leather you’re no threat to anyone, Spike.”
Hurt, I shove her away, knocking her into my chair. Instantly contrite, I go to her, but she waves me away. “Just for the record, Spike. I don’t think that’s true.”
Angel and Buffy are staring at me closely. “Did you see any chip in head action there?” asks Buffy.
“Didn’t see anything like what you described,” replies Angel.
“Your turn, Buffy,” says Tara. Seeing Buffy’s surprised look, she explains. ‘If you’re sharing traits, maybe hurting a human would hurt you instead of him.”
Laughing, Buffy walks to Tara. ‘Yeah, can’t you just see me being all ‘ouch’”. She raises her hands to her head, yelling in mock pain. Reaching out, Buffy lightly punches Tara. “Oww!” she yells, grabbing her head in real pain. Angel and I both go to her, but I pull her into my arms.
“Are you okay, love?” I ask her, concerned.
Buffy pulls away from me. She strides over to the door. “I should go. I need to talk to Giles, see if he knows if any Slayers have ever been claimed before.”
I sit up. “What the hell, Buffy? You’re not phased by immortality or drinking my blood, but the notion that my chip zaps you sends you running to Daddy?”
She whirls around. “That’s not fair. I’m not running anywhere.” She paces around, staring at the floor.
Tara stands up. “Angel and I should go, give you some privacy to talk everything out. We’ll see what we can come up with. See you back at the house later.”
Buffy gives Tara a weak smile. ‘Yeah, I’ll be back before sunrise. I need to get Dawn off to school.”
Tara gives me a hug. “Just remember how much she loves you,” she whispers in my ear.
Angel stands up, looking uncomfortable. “If you hurt her,” he says, staring at me.
Buffy gives him a light kiss on the cheek. “He would never hurt me.”
Buffy and I stand there in silence as the door to the crypt closes. She turns and stares at me, face blank.
I go to her, holding her around the waist. “You can’t run away from me any more. Anything that needs to be faced, we have to do it together.”
She jerks back, pissed off. “What, I claimed you and now I need to have you around every second? I don’t think so, Spike.”
“First hint of trouble and you trot off to the Scoobies? I sit around my crypt until you decide you want to punch me or screw me? Have we sunk back down to that level again?”
Buffy looks up at me. “I love you, Spike. You know that things are different now.”
“Then prove it, Buffy. Let me in. Tell me what you’re thinking. Tell me how you feel.”
She turns her back to me. Minutes pass as I give her the time she needs. I see the set of her shoulders soften; the muscles of her back lose their tension. Turning back around, Buffy collapses against my chest.
“Please hold me,” she says, looking up at me. I carry her downstairs, and we lay together on the bed. She strokes my hair, her head resting on my shoulder. I rub her back, trying to soothe her.
“I’m scared,” she admits. “When I was fighting earlier, it was like I was in an altered state or something. Everything seemed richer, deeper. I was so much stronger.” Buffy looks up at me, troubled. “I wanted to slay everything in my path. It was fun, causing so much destruction. And when the slaying was done, I still wasn’t satisfied. I needed something more.”
“Bloodlust. That’s what you’re having, sweets. My bloodlust.” I try to sound calm and matter-of-fact. “My demon came over me, but the force of it was channeled into you. Moved in you. When you drank my blood, you appeased it. Then it returned to me.”
‘So I was possessed? By your demon?” she says slowly, as if it is a foreign language she doesn’t speak.
“That’s right. It moved in you, gave you it’s strengths, required the blood sacrifice. Same as any other vampire.” I watch her, waiting for her to cut and run.
Buffy looks truly sickened. “I’m no better than a vampire.” She looks up at me. “I don’t mean you. I mean…“ She closes her eyes. “God, I just can’t say what I really mean.”
“It’s alright, love. I can understand why you wouldn’t want to feel like an evil, disgusting thing. That’s what you think we are. No nuances, no differences between me and the vamps you like to slay.” It hurts so much that after everything we’ve had, nothing has really changed.
“I love you. I know that you’re different.” Buffy says the words, but they don’t quite make it to her eyes.
“Do you, now?” Try as I might to push it down, pain comes across in every word.
She pulls me close, pressing her head against my chest. “I can see myself in you. And I can see you in me. I can feel your demon. I can reach out and touch it. I can even make it mine. Just as I can make you mine.”
She stares at me deeply, intently. I feel her bring my demon forth, pulling it out of me. Pulling my head down, she licks my brow, running her tongue over the ridges there. Bringing my finger to her mouth, she bites down hard, drawing blood. I gasp, in equal parts pain and lust.
I brush the tip of my bloodied finger across her lips. Buffy’s mouth opens, her tongue emerging to lap up the bead of blood. An expression of pleasure washes over her face. She sucks in her cheeks, sliding my finger in and out of her mouth. Her breathing speeds up even more, her heartbeat pounding faster. She stares at me with intense eyes. “It’s not enough. I need more.”
Without warning, her hand plunges into my pants, sending buttons scattering. Buffy straddles my knees. She clamps her thighs around my legs as she pumps my cock with two hands. A strangled noise gurgles up from my throat as she leans forward and bites my lip.
“Blood,” she whispers, staring at the red trail dribbling down my chin. She licks the blood away, pumping my cock all the while in a grip of steel.
My hips thrust wildly as I begin to come. “Slayer,” I scream, the pleasure so immense I feel like my head will blow off. She slides down my body in a flash. Suddenly, my cock is encased in her warm mouth, and I explode. I pour into her throat, my hands coiled in her golden hair.
Buffy swallows me down, watching my face. With gentle strokes, she licks my cock clean. Leaning back on her heels, she pulls off my boots and pants as I lie there, still stunned by my orgasm. She wanders off to a dark corner and comes back holding her duffel bag. Unzipping it, she peers inside and smiles wickedly. Looking over at me, she says, “Close your eyes.” I comply, and feel her pull a blindfold over my head, tightening it in the back. I open my eyes, feeling my eyelashes rustle against the leather.
“All that bitching and moaning at the sex shop and you went back and got the blindfold?” I tease her, uncertain what her plan is. Something silky slides over my thighs. I can feel the brush of her boots against the sides of my legs. Her hair tickles my face, the scent of her filling my nostrils.
Something smooth and cool trails over my thighs, running up my stomach. “Looks like now is the time to explore my dark side,” she says softly. Her mouth closes over my ear as I hear a slap and feel a sting. I see an image in my mind, a dark shadow crashing down. Buffy just hit me with a bloody riding crop.
“Please,” I moan. She bites down gently on my ear. ”Are you a good slave or a bad slave?” she purrs.
“I’ll be good, I’ll be so very good,” I whisper. I can’t think of anything I wouldn’t do, just to keep this going.
Her tongue traces my earlobe as the crop cracks down on my thigh. “Wrong answer, slave,” she says cheerfully.
I hiss with the pleasure of it. My cock springs to attention, ready and willing. “I’ll be bad, I’ll be dirty and nasty and evil. I’ll do bad things,” I moan. The crop cracks down again across my belly, close to my pulsing cock.
“You’ll do,” she says, “whatever I tell you to do.” Her voice is breathy and excited. The fact that I can’t see her is driving me crazy. The image in my mind shows my face, starkly white against the mask, contorted with pleasure.
Her hand drifts down my body, flitting across my pubic hair. “Touch me, “ I plead. She strikes me again, making a large snap.
“No,” she says, guiding my hand across her breast and belly, across something satin, and places my hand on her mound. I reach down, sliding my fingers into her sopping depths. I knead her breast with my other hand. I slide my fingers in and out of her, leaving her moaning my name.
“Make me come, slave. Make me scream,” she says. The song of her heart pounds faster in my head. I am so aroused I can barely think straight.
“Please, Buffy, let me fuck you. I’ll be so good for you.” I move my finger inside her skillfully, knowing just what it will take to bring her over.
She twitches around my fingers, bringing the crop down over and over, hitting my chest and stomach, her pace increasing as she nears her peak. “Tell me you want it,” she says, her voice harsh.
“Oh, sweet God, I do, you know I do.” The crop hits me again, and the sound of her hitching breath combined with the blow has me ready to burst. I feel her fluids flow over my fingers as her orgasm overtakes her. Buffy stops moving, held fast by the moment.
Seizing the opportunity, I flip her on her back, replacing my fingers with my cock. I rip off the blindfold. She writhes underneath me, her head thrown back, face flushed. Her arm is splayed back on the bed, the crop dropping from her hand. The straps of her black satin teddy have slipped down her shoulders, revealing one creamy breast. I struggle not to come inside her as her muscles throb and ripple around me. I move gently within her, drawing out her orgasm. “My love,” she moans. I wrap my arms around her, holding her in my embrace as I move within her. The feeling of the silk and leather against my skin, and the sting of the marks on my body, drive me insane with lust.
She opens her eyes and stares into mine. “Hurt me,” she says. She wraps her legs around me. I move deeper inside her, and we both moan with the intensity of it. “Spike, hurt me, please,” she says it again, scratching my chest. I bite down on her shoulder, not drinking. She moans. “Harder, faster, hurt me,” she cries, her body shaking. She is whimpering now. I hold her waist as tightly as I can, biting her hard on her neck. She screams as I lose control inside her, lost in the pleasure of her body. I watch her come, seeing myself do the same in my mind’s eye. Her heart beats fast in my head, throbbing along with the wave of feeling. The orgasm rolls on and on, intense to the point of pain, leaving us both exhausted and spent.
I pull out of her and pull her to my chest. Her hands run through my hair, over my neck and shoulders, caressing me. We kiss softly, gently. Buffy rests her head on my shoulder, looking at me seriously. “You belong to me, and nothing can take that away now.” She drifts off to sleep, her breath blowing against the side of my face. I rest my head on her chest, comforted by the sound of her heart.