The Slave Series
Part 10-13
Written by: Jodyorjen
Author's Website
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 10: Smoke
My alarm goes off with its usual cheerful ringing. I move to hit it, but the sleeping body lying next to me blocks my arm. Sitting up, I lean over Spike and hit the bell. Lying back down, I roll on my side and look into Spike’s blue eyes. He looks quite at home resting on my fluffy girly pillows.
“Good morning.” I reach over and kiss him. “Last I recall we were up to no good at your crypt. When did we come back here?”
He rolls onto his back, stretching like a cat. “I carried you here while you were sleeping. I knew you wouldn’t want to stay at my place, when you need to be here for Dawn.”
He looks absolutely gorgeous, tousled with sleep and bruised and battered a bit from last night. I run my hand across his stomach and chest. “Sexy and thoughtful. Who knew?” I kiss him again, this time more intensely.
Spike smiles, then lunges, rolling on top of me “I’m very thoughtful. Chock full, in fact, of some very entertaining thoughts.” His eyes are dark with lust. He looks down at me, licking his lips. Holding my hips and rubbing his stiff cock against me, he leaves no doubt of what he has in mind.
He leans his head forward and sucks in my nipple, his hand trailing down to caress my clit. He continues rubbing against me, the movement making me warm with desire. I feel him harden even more as I grow wet, and then with one quick movement he is inside me.
I reach up and grab his shoulders, digging my nails into his skin. He still suckles my nipple in his mouth, bracing himself against the bed with strong arms. He moves slowly in and out, in no hurry. Letting my nipple free with a small pop, he gazes down at me as if I am an object of worship. If I ever doubted his love for me, it is there, radiating out from his eyes in waves of adoration. He moves his hips in circles, staring at my face. His movements grow deep, faster, building upon themselves in gradual cycles. When I can wait no longer, needing to come, I slowly rake my fingernails down his chest. I watch him begin to fall apart and pull his mouth down to mine. His body jerks and shakes, taking me over the brink, undone by the intensity of his orgasm.
I break free of our kiss, gasping for breath. A gentle tapping knocks at the door. “Buffy?” asks Angel’s voice.
“Coming,” I squeak, in a high-pitched voice, still lost in orgasm.
“Damn right you are,” growls Spike. He nips me on the neck and I moan.
“Um, I’ll be downstairs. Tara’s making pancakes,” says Angel, his voice sounding oddly distorted. His footsteps hurry away.
Spike still moves within me, drawing out every drop of pleasure for us both. We both sigh and curl together for a moment. I feel utterly at peace with the world. Then it sinks in. Angel. Angel, someone I used to love, right outside my door, hearing us moaning. Knowing we were-
“God, how embarrassing. Poor Angel, ” I say to Spike, pulling away. “He can’t have what we have. It’s not fair to rub his nose in it.”
He gives me an icy look. “Right, pet. Wouldn’t want to hurt the feelings of the same sod who fucked Dru six ways from Sunday within earshot while I was in a bloody wheelchair.”
I’m a little thrown by this. He’s still jealous about Drusilla? Isn’t he utterly over her now?
Getting up, he stalks over to the door. “Spike, you’re naked…”
He opens the door to reveal Cordelia exiting the bathroom in the hallway. Cordy gives Spike the once over. “Hey, Buffy, good for you. I mean, really. The boy is hung like-“
Spike slams the door in her face and turns back to me. He is blushing from the roots of his hair down to his chest. “Wow, Spike. Who knew vampires could blush?” He looks like a cherry tomato.
Shooting a glare at me, he pulls on his pants and shirt. After throwing on some sweats, I go over to him.
“I know you’ve got issues with Angel, “ I say. “I’m not saying that you don’t have a right to feel that way. But all three of us have done some pretty awful things to each other, so we’re all just going to have to let go of the baggage.”
Spike looks down at me, thinking hard. He pulls me tightly to his chest. “As long as I have you, I can try to be the better man.” He looks down at me, smiling. ‘Of course, taking the high moral ground will be an new experience.”
Holding hands, we go downstairs. Cordelia, Willow and Dawn are having breakfast. Angel is holding his son, feeding him a bottle. He gives us a dark look, but doesn’t say anything.
Willow looks up at me. “Xander is coming to move out my stuff. I’m going to stay with he and Anya.”
She gives Spike a look of seething hatred. ‘He’s asked that Spike not be here when he comes.”
“Xander telling me not to have my boyfriend in my own house? That’s so not gonna fly.” The boy’s lost his mind.
“Try having respect for someone else’s feelings, Buffy. It’s a human trait, and I’m guessing you’ll need to be working on those now.” Shoving her chair back, Willow leaves the room, stomping up the stairs. Distantly, her door slams.
Dawn looks up from her plate, her eyes sad. ‘I wish that everyone could just get along with each other. I hate all the fighting.”
I pat her on the shoulder. ‘It’s okay, Dawnie. Things will be back to normal soon.” I stop, considering that. “Well, not normal, but as close as it gets for us.”
“I wish she wouldn’t leave,’ Dawn says. “Dad, Mom, Tara, Willow. And you were gone…” She looks like she is going to burst into tears. “I have to go to school. “Grabbing her backpack, Dawn dashes out the front door. Turning to Spike, I sigh. “Well, that went well.”
Tara comes in from the kitchen, bearing a platter of pancakes and a paper sack. “Round or funny shapes, I made both. Eat up,” she says, putting down the platter. Looking around, she turns to me. ”Where is Dawn? I have her lunch.”
“Thanks, Tara. I’ll catch up with her.” Grabbing the sack, I run out the front door. Dawn is just turning onto the sidewalk.
“Dawn, wait. I have your lunch here,” I call. As I walk towards her, I feel odd. My skin feels heated, like I have bad sunburn.
“Buffy? You’re smoking.” says Dawn, her eyes wide. I look down at my hands, seeing the smoke rising up.
“Oh My God,” I scream, as I turn and run back to the house. I feel the heat rising as I run. Clouds of smoke surround me, making it hard to see. I trip and stumble, finally making it up the stairs of my house. I am screaming, over and over, burning with pain. “Stop, drop and roll,” says my mind, as I collapse inside my open door. I feel my back ignite into flame. ‘Christ, Buffy!” Spike yells, as something presses down on my back. The last thing I hear is my sister’s screams, ringing in my head. I fall through spinning stars, landing in a blanket of darkness.
Later, I hear distant voices, echoing from far away.
“You have to take her to a hospital,” I hear Xander say.
“They won’t know what to do with her, monkey boy. Not to mention, taking her back outside will cause her to burst into flame again!” Spike’s voice is dripping with sarcasm, and an undercurrent that I can’t place.
“And whose fault is it that, huh?” says Xander. “You got her into this mess. This is your fault, Spike! You did this to her. Just to satisfy your filthy-” I hear a scuffle, and the two large thumps.
“Knock that crap off, now!” growls Angel.
I hear sobbing in the background, familiar cries falling and rising. Dawnie? I try to lift my head, but it hurts too much. The dark is sweet and soothing, and I drift back into it.
************************************
My love lies on her stomach in her metal bed. She looks so delicate and frail. The skin of her back is glossy from Tara’s salve.
I turn to Tara. ‘What did you say was in that stuff?”
“Comfrey, coltsfoot, heals all. Just herbs, ordinary stuff for healing spells. Plus dragons blood, yarrow, mandrake root. Angel told me to what to put in for the vampire side of the house.” She gives me a smile. ‘We’re covering both bases.”
“I never wanted this to happen to her, Tara. I wanted her to acknowledge the darker part of herself, to feel an affinity for it. I never wanted it to swallow her, to eclipse her humanity entirely.” I look over at Tara, and her face is full of understanding. “The binding, Tara. It can’t be undone. But we have to do something.” When I look at Buffy, all I can see is my sweet vibrant girl, trapped in darkness forever.
“We need to talk to Giles, pick Angel’s brain, research on the Internet. Fuck, let’s hop on the ouija board and channel Darla and the Master,” I go on. “ I don’t care what we have to do. We need to see if there is any way around this.”
I think of Drusilla, of the message that she sent me. She knew this would happen. One of her visions, no doubt. She had seen the claiming come to pass, and the affects of it. Most likely, she really did know how to undo it. But what would be her price?
“She deserves better than this. It takes too much away from her.” I press a gentle kiss into Buffy’s hair, and stand up. “Tara, I need a smoke break. Can you call me on my cell phone if she wakes up? I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Tara looks up at me, holding Buffy’s phone. “She’ll probably sleep for a while. She needs her rest. But I will call if anything changes before she gets back.”
Walking through the house, I step out into the bright light of day. The wind rushes around me. It is a beautiful, sunny afternoon, and here I stand. I am surrounded by the glory of a Southern California day. I can’t think of anything I have enjoyed less than this. The price of admission for this moment has come at much too high a cost.
Snapping open my Zippo, I light my cigarette and breathe in deeply. “Spike?” says a small voice.
‘Dawn?’ I turn and see her peer around a corner. “What are you doing here, love? Xander dropped you at school an hour ago.”
“I couldn’t just sit there not knowing what was happening.” Her long hair blows in the breeze, falling across her trembling lips.
“Niblet, you know that if you ditch school it’s only going to make things harder on Buffy. Give her more things to worry about.”
Dawn turns her back to me. Her breath hitches and I realize that I have made her cry. I toss aside my cigarette and wrap her in my arms. “Shh, sweets, its alright,” I say. “ I’m a sodding idiot, pay me no mind. I wasn’t trying to make you feel worse. This whole thing’s not your fault.” My throat tightens. “It’s mine.”
“I don’t blame you Spike,” she says earnestly. “I think Xander and Willow are wrong. I know how much you love her. I know you’d never hurt her.”
“But I sure enough did a good job of it.” I kiss her forehead. “Don’t worry, pet. I’ll get this figured out and she’ll be right as rain.”
I lead her into the house. Angel is talking on the kitchen phone. “Yes, we need a California King delivered today. Uh huh. You got any sheet sets? Uh huh? Okay, I’ll make another call for that. Be here by three, I’ll throw in an extra fifty bucks.” He hangs up the phone, making a notation on a large sheet of scribbled notes. “Well, it was handy of Willow to clear out today,” he says. ”Cordelia is tired of sleeping on the cot in Dawn’s room and I’m sick of sleeping on the couch. “
‘So you’ll be sleeping with Cordy in that nice big bed?” It seems unlikely, but who knows?
He shoots me an exasperated glance. “No, I’ll be sleeping on the other bed that is being delivered. We’re setting up camp down in the basement.” He gives me an appraising look. “It doesn’t look like we’ll be going back to L.A. anytime soon. Which is actually good. With you and Buffy here, it’ll be the last place anyone will look for us. So, Cordy and I are getting comfortable. Buffy had said we could stay as long as we liked. So, we’re going to. Beds, crib, clothes, couch. It’s all coming today.”
Cordelia comes in, carrying Connor’s baby carrier. The baby is wide eyed, sucking happily on a pacifier.
Angel sighs. “I told you, Cordy, I don’t think pacifiers are good for the baby. And he should be in his baby sling. Dr. Sears-“
Cordy holds up her hand. “Stuff Dr. Sears! I’m not buying any of that attachment parenting crap. Dr. Spock was good enough for my parents-“
‘What does Star Trek have to do with taking care of a baby?” I honestly don’t see a connection there.
They give me identical glances of infuriation. “Uh, I’d better get back to Buffy,” I mutter.
Dawn and I retreat hastily, leaving Mum and Dad to duke it out downstairs.
Tara is laying crystals around Buffy’s body, waving a smoking stick of sage in the air. A black cauldron next to the bed holds herbs smoldering on the red-hot coals within. “Great mother, hear my plea-“ seeing us, she waves us out of the room.
Dawn looks up at me. “There doesn’t seem to be anything for me to do.” Her face is tight with strain. “I can’t deal with this, Spike. I need things to stay the same. I’m tired of everything being up in the air all the time. I just want something normal.”
“Everything will work itself out, love.” I try to think of something fun to do. “You want to play some cards? Paint our fingernails?” I get a faint smile out of her, and then a shake of the head. “Why don’t you rest, sweets? I’ll come and get you as soon as anything happens.” She shuffles down the hall. The door closes behind her, and the faint strains of Enya pour out. I remember Joyce playing it when she was feeling blue, and when she was sick.
Going into Willow’s empty room, I brace my back against the wall. I bang my head against it, over and over again. The pain is familiar, reassuring even. I slam my head against the wall until it is wreathed in a dull throbbing pain. I feel something snap inside of me, and I hear myself sobbing, sobbing so mournfully. I cry, waves of tears that seem as if they will never end. Grieving, again, for Buffy.
**************************
I am lying on a bed in the middle of Spike’s crypt. The sun shines through the windows and the open door, hitting my skin. It feels soothing and peaceful. My lover lies next to me, staring at me. I reach out and touch his hair. “Time to go, sweetness,” he says. “We have places to go, disasters to avert.”
I smile at him, still feeling heavy and drugged with sleep. “I like it here. Things are better, easier.”
Spike’s eyes are dark and deep, and seem sad. “We need to face the world, slayer. We can relax after everything gets worked out.”
I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him close. “I’m tired of dealing with the world. I just want to stay here with you.” He kisses me, the sweet gentle kisses that I love best. After a few minutes, he pushes me away, sighing.
“We have forever to kiss, love. But there are some kinks that need working out.” He reaches over and scoops me in his arms. “Time to go.”
“I’m too tired, I don’t have the energy.” I am exhausted, much too tired to go anywhere.
He looks down at me, his face pained. “Do you want to drink?”
“I do,” I say, realizing that is what I need, what I’ve been missing.
Settling me down in the pillows, he moves to cut his arm. “Not there. I want your neck.” Staring in my eyes, he tears open the skin of his throat. Pulling me to him, he holds me tight as I seek out the wound and drink. With every sip, I feel stronger, clearer, better in every way. When I am fully satiated, I let him go. His head is thrown back, his mouth wide with the pleasure of our embrace. The wound in his throat is nearly closed.
He lifts his head, looking at me with eyes a deep turquoise. “We have to go now, Buffy. I need you with me.” I rest my head on his shoulder, feeling replete and content. I edge back into slumber.
Grabbing me by the shoulders, Spike recites the blood vow. “For love I have claimed you. By blood I have bound you. Return to me.” I feel myself pulled towards him, returning to the missing part of myself, and becoming whole.
Suddenly, I am elsewhere. I am lying in my bed. “My back hurts.” Spike gently helps me sit up. He hands me two pills and a cup of water. “Take these,’ he says, and I do. “The pain will be better in just a few minutes, love. We have to get you dressed and downstairs.” His tone is dark and serious. He looks at me. “Your father is here.”
“Why is he here now? He didn’t even come for Mom’s funeral.” I roll my shoulders, wincing with pain. “I don’t think I can do this, Spike.”
“You have to, pet, “ he says. “You have to put on a good show for your Dad, right now, or we could lose Dawn. Why else would he show up here today?” Spike bandages my back and dresses me in an oversized black silk shirt. He pulls soft suede slacks up my legs and guides my feet into black leather mules. He takes me in the bathroom, and I am pleased to discover that I can walk on my own.
Spike brushes my hair gently, smoothing it back with a wide headband. With delicate strokes, he blends foundation into my skin, covering the pallor with a healthy tint. He powders my face softly with the puff of my compact. He smoothes blush on my cheeks and eye shadow on my lids, even lining my eyes with a steady hand. Lastly, he fills in my pale lips with pink, expertly tracing their shape.
“How do you know how to do this?” I ask curiously.
He looks at me, eyes blank. “Drusilla. She wasn’t always in control of herself, but I knew she always wanted to look pretty. So I made sure she did.”
We go downstairs. No one is in the living room. Sitting at the dining room table is Dawn, and my father. Spike looks at me, and I nod reassuringly. He walks into the kitchen.
“Hi, Dad.” He looks up at me uncertainly. Coming over to me, he gives me a tentative hug. It is so gentle; I don’t even feel any pain.
He pulls out a chair for me. I sit down, looking up at him. “Before you say anything, Buffy, let me tell you about my day. I get in this morning from a business trip to Spain, and there are two messages waiting for me. One is from your friend Willow, telling me that you girls are in trouble, and the other is from your friend Xander, telling me I need to come to Sunnydale. I go to a briefing, am gone two hours, and then I get a phone call from Dawn. A very illuminating phone call, I might add.”
He shoots me an icy look. ‘I know exactly what’s going on here, young lady.” My father leans forward, staring in my eyes. “You have been trying to play the hero. Trying to solve all of the world’s problems. You think that it’s up to you to slay the demons for everybody else?”
Taken aback, I start to interrupt. “But Dad, I’m the-“
He hits his fist on the table. “Shut it, missy. I know the score. Dawn explained to me exactly what is going on here. ”I look over at Dawn, and she looks at me reassuringly, giving me a small smile. He reaches behind him and pulls out a briefcase. “Dawn’s school records. Abysmal. Your school records from UC Sunnydale. Doing fantastic until your mom fell ill, then you withdrew and didn’t sign up for the fall semester.” He takes more papers off the table in front of him. “The mortgage on the house has fallen behind. There is nothing in the bank, nothing in savings. I understand that your mother’s car was repossessed over the summer.” He looks up at me, sorrow in his gaze. “I can’t even begin to tell you how horribly disappointed I am.”
I thought there was nothing else that my father could ever say to me that would hurt so much. I was wrong. I feel the tears burning at the back of my throat, and I try with all my might not to cry. Not in front of him. Not again.
He gently puts his hand under my chin and pulls up. His eyes are so much like mine.
“I am so very disappointed in myself, Buffy. I let you down, and I let Dawn down.” He looks down at his hands, his fingernails bitten to the quick. “I let your mother down.”
Leaning back, he sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “It never occurred to me to dig deeper. I assumed that what Dawn told me all summer was true, that things were just hunky dory here. I should have known that you girls had too much pride to come clean.” He smiles at us both. “Summers pride, girls. That, you got from me.”
Reaching back in his briefcase, he pulls out more documents, and three checkbooks. “The mortgage is paid off, Buffy. I spoke to the lender this afternoon, and it is taken care of.” He tosses Dawn a set of keys, and places another set in my hand. “Cars for you both. You’ll need them to get between home and school.”
He hands me a set of forms and catalogues for UC Sunnydale, handing another packet to Dawn. “Buffy, I expect you to select your classes as soon as possible for the spring semester. You have been reenrolled, but the classes are filling up quickly. Dawn said that evening classes would be best for you, and there seems to be more availability in those anyway.” He picks up the schedule of classes, showing me where he has highlighted class sections. “These are the next series of classes for your psychology major. You should focus on those first, I think.”
“Dawn and I discussed this and she would like to go to Mission Grove Prep here in Sunnydale. She will be a boarding student during the week and is free to come home on weekends. This way, you will both have the time and energy to focus on academics and lead your own lives without worrying about each other every minute.”
He hands me the checkbooks. “One of these is for household expenses, one for yours and one for Dawn’s. There is ample cash in these funds for the next semester, and the same amount will be coming until you are both done with school.” He rests his finger together on the tabletop. “I expected you girls to show some initiative. You have done that, and I am so proud of you both. But you need someone to take care of you. Right now, that’s me.”
He gives Dawn a hug and kisses her cheek. “I want a word alone with your sister, sweetheart.” She leaves the room, looking over her shoulder at me.
“There is something going on here that I would like an explanation for, Buffy.” Dad looks at me searchingly. “I know you’re an adult, and you don’t answer to me. Both Xander and Willow said that you were in a bad relationship, that some guy was making you do things that you don’t want to do. That he was a monster.” My father’s brow wrinkles in consternation. “But Dawn said that you were in love with Spike, the same Spike that I’ve been hearing so many good things about from her for years now. I know how much he helped her through the rough time she has after your mother passed. So is he the monster that your friends say that he is, or is he a good man?”
My father looks at me seriously, and I can tell that whatever he has failed to do before, he cares. He really is concerned.
“Spike comes from kind of a rough background,” I explain, searching for the right words. “He made a lot of mistakes. But he really has changed. He loves me, and he loves Dawn. I would trust him with my life.”
“Are you really serious about this boy? In a long term kind of way?”
I smile at my dad. “As long term as you can get, Dad.”
He pats my cheek lovingly, and then rises. ‘And what this Xander fellow said about Spike being violent, attacking him?”
“Well, Dad, Xander accused Spike of just using me for sex…”
He holds up his hand. “Say no more, honey, please. Good for Spike. I’d have done the same thing.” He smiles at me. “I shouldn’t have doubted him, based on gossip alone. But you know that old saying, ‘where there’s smoke, there’s fire’. Just wanted to look out for my girls.” He stops, looks at me questioningly. “I think you may need to reevaluate who your friends are, honey. I don’t think those two acted very loyally, coming running to me telling tales.”
Dad frowns, looking at his watch. “I’m taking Dawn over to Mission Grove. The headmistress is expecting us for dinner at her home in a half hour. Then Dawn’s going to spend the night over there, meet her new dorm mates.” He gets up and goes in the kitchen and I follow him.
Dawn and Spike are eating peanut butter out of the jar. She is speaking in a low voice, brandishing her spoon in punctuation. Spike’s eyebrows are raised high, looking completely shocked.
“I think it’s time we met, young man,” says my father, in a serious voice.
Spike jumps, startled. “Yes, Mr. Summers. I’m, uh, Spike.” He offers a peanut butter streaked left hand to my father, and then offers his clean right one. My father shakes his hand firmly.
“You got any other name, son, or is it just Spike?”
“William, sir,” says Spike, his posture stiff and formal.
“That’s a bit more like it,” My father says with a grin. “Makes you sound like a real person instead of something you’d find at the hardware store.”
A tiny smirk passes over Spike’s face before he quashes it.
“Dawn? Can I speak to you outside for a minute?” I ask. Dawn and I go to the back porch. We both look up for a moment, watching the stars twinkling in the night sky.
She turns to me, clearly scared. ‘Do you hate me for calling Dad? I just didn’t know what else to do to help you, Buffy. Things have gotten so screwed up.”
“No, Dawnie, no. I haven’t been taking good care of things since I got back, or before it, really. Calling Dad was what I should have done, a long time ago.” It hurts to admit that I haven’t been doing as well as I wanted to. “But going to boarding school, Dawn? Are you just trying to get away from me because you’re afraid of me?” My voice starts to crack as I say the last words, and she pulls me into a hug.
“I’m afraid for you, Buffy. I lost you once and I can’t bear to lose you again. You need to figure out all these changes that you’re going through, and to how to deal with them. I don’t want to see you hurt, not physically and not with all the fighting. “ She sighs. “And I don’t want to hurt you too, Buffy, but I need more than this. I need to be a normal girl for a while, and I can’t do that here. Not while all of this is going on.”
“And you think you’ll like it there?” My voice is tinged with disbelief.
“Janice’s mom sent her to board at Locust Grove after Halloween. She really likes it there, and we’re going to be roommates. It’s going to be great, Buffy.”
“And if you hate it you’ll come home?”
“Cross my heart, Buffy. I’ll always come home to you.”
She hugs me again. She smiles at me, dangling her car keys. “Can we go see the new cars now?” Grabbing my hand, she pulls me around the side of the house, giggling like the teenage girl she is.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Chapter 11: Old Friends and New
“You don’t know your ass from your elbow,” said Spike vehemently, his hands braced squarely on his hips.
“Well, I can tell a corner bracket from a center bracket, which makes me smarter than you, ” retorted Angel, tossing a small object from one hand to the other.
Grabbing it in midair, Spike held it up. “This one is the corner bracket. The one that looks like a “T” is the center bracket. ”
Angel picked up the object in question, peering at it.“ No, you’re wrong. The diagram clearly indicates that…” He held up the instructions, waving them for emphasis.
The blonde ripped the paper out of Angel’s hand, voice rising. “Listen, I don’t need a bloody schematic to put a crib together, Angelus. Its just slats of wood, with some metal bits thrown in.”
‘Oh, sure! Let’s do it your way,” Angel said sarcastically, grabbing the instructions back. “Let’s just throw it together. It doesn’t really matter, it’s only my child’s life that we’re taking about.”
Spike guffawed. “Oh, please. Why do you have to be so melodramatic about everything?”
As she entered the basement, Buffy winced at the mess they were making. Angel and Cordelia had it cordoned off into two areas, one for each of them. The paper screen that separated Cordelia’s space from the chaos surrounding it had toppled over onto her bed. Angel’s bed and couch were drowning in a sea of boxes. The shipping box lay on its side, spilling forth the pieces of the crib. The mattress was propped against the wall nearby. There was no clear space anywhere to be seen. “Spike, why don’t you go upstairs and help Tara and Cordelia with the research,” she said cheerfully. “We need a fresh brain.” He gave her a sour look, but kissed her and went upstairs without protest.
Angel smiled at her in appreciation. Picking up the instructions, she studied them for a moment. “He was right. They mislabeled the brackets,” she said quietly.
Methodically, they grouped the pieces of the crib together. With both of them cooperating, it was finished in minutes. “Good job,” Buffy told him as she pushed the mattress into place. ‘Do you want to put on the bedding?” she asked, looking around.
Angel scratched his head. ‘I ordered a crib set. It’s around here somewhere.” He looked through the boxes and bags, finally locating the bedding.
“Oh, that is so cute,” said Buffy, admiring the set, which was a midnight blue pattern, covered with gold suns and silver stars.
He looked at her oddly. “I guess so. Cordy picked it out.” Angel put on the bedding and the padded bumper, while Buffy assembled and installed the mobile. Once finished, they stepped back to assess their work.
“It looks great,” said Buffy. Leaning forward, she twisted the knob on the mobile. A circle of suns and moons circled around, spinning to the clockwork tune.
“I’m really glad that you are here,” Buffy said. “I never thought you’d stay in Sunnydale again, not even as a safe place for Connor.”
“Cordy and I were going to leave. We didn’t want to impose on you. But I couldn’t just walk away from you while you’re going through this,” he said sincerely. “You have no idea how scared we all were, seeing you burned, wondering if you’d be alright.”
“You, and Tara, and Cordelia, you’ve all stayed, doing everything you can to help me understand the claim, understand the effect it has on me. Even thought it scared you, or hurt you to see it, you didn’t run away. You didn’t turn your backs on me. I guess it just goes to show who my real friends are,” she said bitterly.
“They’ll come around,” reassured Angel. “Xander and Willow don’t understand your relationship with Spike. If you’d told them what you told me, they would see.”
“They’ll never understand,” replied Buffy. “They don’t know what it feels like to be dead, and then to feel alive again. To have love, after having nothing.” Angel stared at her, his eyes filled with pain. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive. I wish you could love again, feel about someone the way I feel for Spike,” she said earnestly, reaching out her hand. He turned away. After a pause, he turned back. She was already at the top of the stairs. “I do,” he said, as he watched the mobile spin in endless circles.
She stepped out into the kitchen. “So, how are things going on the making Buffy nonflammable front?” she said brightly.
“Not so good,” Cordelia replied, sipping from a mug at the kitchen counter. “I think we need to get some help. These sources Angel gave us didn’t really know anything. It seems that the vampires don’t really have the answers on the Slayer front.”
“I’ll try to call Giles again,” said Buffy. “We really need his expertise on this. I wonder where he is. I’ve been trying to reach him for over a day now.”
‘I know we haven’t really gotten anywhere, but I need a break. My head hurts from staring at the monitor,” said Cordy, as she rubbed her eyes.
“Why don’t you go upstairs and take a nice hot bubble bath? Connor’s sleeping, and you should take some down time,” suggested Buffy. The other girl looked tempted, but hesitated. “I’ve got scented candles from France, and soothing environmental music, and a very expensive face mask waiting. Not to mention a nice, clean Egyptian cotton robe...” her voice trailed off enticingly.
Cordelia smiled widely. “That sounds absolutely perfect.” She headed upstairs.
Buffy watched her go, then turned and entered the dining room, where Spike and Tara huddled conspiratorially. Thick volumes and stacks of papers were everywhere. “Okay, so are we good?”
‘She has no clue that we know it’s her birthday,” said Tara. “We are going to totally surprise her.”
“I hope she likes it,” said Buffy. ”The surprise birthday celebration thing kind of sucks when it’s for me.”
Angel came in the room. “Okay, so what is the plan?”
Spike rustled some papers on the table. “We’ve got a reservation at the Armory for nine o’clock. The cake is here. Tara slipped it past her. Did you get her presents?”
Angel made a face. ‘Yeah, I got everything.”
‘What is it? What’s so terrible?” Tara asked
‘What’s terrible,” replied Angel, “is she is going to make us….” A knock at the door interrupted him. “I think that’s for me,” he said, moving to answer it.
A young woman wearing a black dress and a white cap stood at the door. “Hello, I am Penelope Travers,” she said in a clipped British accent. “Wesley told you I’d be coming?”
‘Yes, absolutely.” He looked over his shoulder. “If you don’t mind, let’s just step outside for a minute.”
As they stood on the front porch, he peered down at her. “So, you understand the situation.”
She nodded at him, eyes grave. ‘I was made aware of the threat that you are facing. I will protect the child with all of my powers.”
Angel looked at her hesitantly. Leading her over behind the tree, he stopped her. “If you don’t mind, would you drop the glamour for a minute?”
She looked at him seriously and then shut her eyes. Her features blurred and reformed. Before him stood a winged creature taller than himself. Blue scales covered humanoid features. Sharp talons curled at the ends of powerful arms. She opened her green, reptilian eyes, turned her head to the side and breathed a stream of blue fire. As she pivoted back to face him, she returned to human guise. ‘I am perfectly harmless in my mortal form,” she explained softly. “But any hint of threat to your son, and I will change instantly and address it.”
Angel cleared his throat. ‘Well, I’m convinced of that. Please come in, Miss Travers.”
He took her coat and hat and led her over to the bassinet. ‘This is Connor,” he whispered. After hanging up her things, he led her to the dining room. “Everyone, this is Miss Travers,” Angel announced. “She will be helping us take care of Connor while we stay in Sunnydale.”
Buffy smiled. ‘Wow, you’re actually going to let someone else take care of the baby?” She turned to Miss Travers. “Hi, I’m Buffy. It’s a pleasure to meet you. You must be some kind of superwoman, if Angel thinks you’re up to the job.”
Spike gave the nanny an assessing look. “Not a super woman. More like a…”
Angel laughed nervously. “Super person. A really super person. No need to be sexist, right?” He shot Spike a glare, clearly wanting him to shut up.
For once, Spike took the hint. ‘I’m Spike. Pleasure to meet you,” he said. He tilted his head, staring at her.
“And I’m Tara,” the witch introduced herself. “So, are you from Sunnydale?”
“No,” Miss Travers replied. “I’m from elsewhere.”
“So, can I get you a drink, or something to eat?” Buffy offered.
A small wail arose from the living room. ‘Excuse me, ‘ the woman said, “I must tend to the child.” She turned towards the living room, Angel following right behind.
‘Wow, that is cool,” enthused Buffy. “So we can actually have an adult evening. Maybe we could go to The Bronze after dinner. I bet that Cordelia and Angel haven’t gone dancing in a while.”
“Last time we went there, we didn’t do much dancing,” said Spike seriously. Buffy looked over at him in disbelief.
‘Why not?” asked Tara, as she looked up from the notes on the table. “Was one of you not feeling well?”
“We had to leave,” explained Buffy, flushing slightly. ‘I got overheated.”
“Well, if we’re going to go dancing, I should change clothes,” said Tara.
“Willow left some boxes of yours behind. I put them in the closet in your old room,” said Buffy.
“I’ll take a look, see what I can come up with. “ Tara went upstairs.
Buffy turned to Spike. “What is with you?” She poked him in the chest. He grabbed her waist and pulled her close.
“I just like teasing you,” he said quietly. His hands wandered up her body, thoroughly touching her from hips to shoulders. She sighed, rubbing against him. He pulled her head down for a kiss, as his hand pressed the back of her head. The embrace deepened, growing tighter and closer with every moment of the kiss.
Buffy broke away, breathless. “We can’t, not now,” she whispered. “There’s a houseful of people.”
He nibbles her ear. “You know, the second that I walk in the Bronze I’m going to get hard,” he said matter of factly. “Just thinking about the last time we were there. What a naughty girl you were, fucking me right there on the dance floor.” His breath hitched and his hand slipped under her skirt. ‘Strike that. I’m already there.” She felt his erection pressed against her.
“Let’s go to my room,” she said breathily.
“Can’t, Tara’s there,” he said.
“Bathroom?” Buffy suggested.
‘Cordelia,” he replied, as he gently nipped at her neck.
“Basement?” she said hopefully.
Spike picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, running down the stairs. “Shall we break in Angel’s bed or Cordelia’s?” he asked as they reached the last step.
‘Neither,” said Buffy. “That’s just gross.”
“Neither of them are using them for anything fun, “ said Spike with a grin. “Really, it would be doing them a favor. We’d be testing the mattress for quality and endurance.”
“You’ll just have to test your endurance over there,” said Buffy, pointing to the wall where the washer and dryer were.
“Against the wall? We’d bring the house down again,” said Spike. “And we want to keep living here, right?”
‘I have an idea,” said Buffy. Several minutes’ later, Buffy lay on a twin size air mattress covered with a Barbie sleeping bag. They were wedged in a corner between some boxes and the staircase.
Spike looked down at her. “I can’t believe that I’m saying this, but I’m not really in the mood anymore. Moving boxes, pumping up the mattress. Kind of ruined the moment, love.”
Buffy pulled off her skirt, showing a garter belt and sheer white stockings. She took off her blouse, and revealed a creamy satin bra.
“I’m good,” said Spike, unbuckling his belt and kicking off his pants. He pounced on her, ripping off her panties. “This is a different look for you,” he said, popping a clip on the garter belt.
Buffy grabbed his hand. “I kind of thought we might do it with them on,” she said. “I could wrap my legs around you while you fucked me,” she said in a low voice, biting his earlobe. “It would feel so silky, so smooth, sliding against your skin.” She stared deeply into his eyes.
He returned her gaze and swallowed. “Works for me,” he said weakly. He refastened her button, fumbling a little before he got it right. She slid her foot up the inside of his leg. He shut his eyes, biting his lip.
“You like that, don’t you?” she asked. He thrust against her, showing her exactly how much. She grabbed his ass in both hands, guiding him inside her. He nipped and bit at her collarbone as he moved in and out of her warmth. “I love the way you feel,” she whispered, wrapping her legs around him. He pulled up his head, kissing her thoroughly. She pushed his chest, pulling him away slightly. He looked down at her, confused. She slid her right leg up, pulling it over his shoulder, and then her left. He rocked forward slightly, and she gasped.
“Am I hurting you, love?” he said, concerned.
“Don’t stop,” she said, ” you’re so deep inside me.” She closed her hands around his wrists.
He moved cautiously within her, fearful of hurting her. As her response became more and more avid, he moved faster within her. Her color heightened, her head thrashed from side to side as she scratched him with her nails. “I’m coming, I’m coming, come for me,” she moaned, arching in climax.
“Buffy, I love you,” he said brokenly, following her into bliss.
Upstairs, in Buffy’s room, Tara tried on her outfit. She looked in the mirror critically, turning from side to side.
“Are you going somewhere special tonight?” asked Cordelia from the doorway. She looked relaxed and flushed, a terry turban on her head matching the robe she wore.
“We all are. It’s kind of a study buddy field trip. All hands on deck.” She turned, smiling at Cordy. “So you’d better go get ready.”
“Where are we going?” asked Cordy, her eyes bright. “Someplace dressy?”
‘Yep, and you’ll need to wear shoes you can move in,” said Tara.
Cordelia gave the witch an appraising glance. “You look really nice, Tara.”
The girl’s face lit up. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Cordy gave her a thoughtful look. “But I think we can do even better.” She walked to the bathroom, returning with her vanity case.
Pulling out some makeup and a curling iron from her bag, she motioned for Tara to sit down at Buffy’s desk. “I want to add some sparkle to your cheeks, put a little curl in your hair. Are you ready for a little change?”
Tara smiled up at her. “Definitely.”
In the living room, Nanny Travers took detailed notes. “You prefer him to be held on demand, fed on demand, changed as necessary. No set sleep schedule.” She looked up at him. ‘So you wish me to do what the child wants when he wants it?”
‘That’s correct,” said Angel, staring down at the child in his arms. “I don’t want him to feel neglected or unloved for one instant. The second that he cries, I want him to be held. To feel secure.”
‘As you wish,” said the nanny. “I tend to agree with you sir. A happy child is a secure child.”
He handed her a piece of paper. ‘These are the numbers where you can reach us. My cell phone, Cordy’s, Buffy’s and Spike’s. Additionally, the number of the restaurant and the club are there. The number for Connor’s new pediatrician here in town, poison control, police and fire department.”
“You’re very thorough, sir. I’m sure that everything will be fine, but I will contact you with the slightest concern.” She looked up at him, the very picture of capability.
He smiled at her. “Do you need anything? Can I help with any arrangements?”
Nanny Travers shook her head. ‘No, Wesley arranged for my private accommodation in town and transportation. I’m all set up to stay as long as you need me.” She held out her arms for the baby. “Why don’t you go prepare for your evening? I’m perfectly capable of looking after Connor.”
Looking hesitant, Angel handed over the baby. As he stepped into the kitchen, he saw Spike drinking from a mug. He grabbed a bag of blood from refrigerator for himself.
‘Great minds think alike.” Spike raised his mug. ‘So, is there a reason that you’re not telling anyone the nanny is a beastie of the godlike strength, setting things afire variety?”
“I don’t want to worry Cordelia. I’ll tell her later.” At Spike’s sidelong glance, he continued, “Really, I will. I just want to have one nice evening where nothing goes wrong.”
An hour later, Buffy slammed shut her door and turned the key in the ignition.
‘Are you sure you want to drive, Buffy?” asked Tara nervously from the back. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, tightly curled into ringlets. “I mean this thing is huge.”
Carefully, Buffy backed the Suburban down the driveway. ‘Dad said that he wanted me to drive something safe. Like a tank.”
“Which does kind of begs the question of why the niblet got the convertible,” said Spike drolly.
‘Well, the convertible is huge too. Dawn is probably the only person under sixty with a Cadillac. Therefore,” said Buffy chirpily, “there is no need to draw any unflattering driving comparisons. No one is saying that Dawn is a better driver than I am.”
“I taught her how to drive, Buffy,” said Spike. “I can safely say that she is a much better driver than you are.”
“I’m a perfectly fine driver. Dawn can’t even drive yet without an adult in the car to watch out for her,” snapped Buffy.
‘Stop sign!” Tara exclaimed loudly from the back. The truck screeched to a halt, barely stopped in time to avoid being clipped by another car. “Not a word,” said Buffy firmly. The rest of the ride took place in silence.
Cordelia was stunned by the ambiance of the Armory. “Wow, this place is really unbelievable.” Mahogany paneling accented stained glass windows. The floors were paved in gray cobblestones, with varying types of arms and armor hung on the walls.
The host led them to their table. Angel assisted Tara and Cordelia into their seats as Spike did the same for Buffy. They looked over their large burgundy leather menus. “These prices are insane, Angel,” murmured Cordy.
“It’s your birthday, Cordelia. The day that you were born was a very special day. It deserves to be celebrated,” he said, as he stared at her.
She looked over at him, eyes wide. “Thank you,” she said quietly.
The waiter came and took their orders, then came back with a bottle of champagne. After they were served, Angel raised his glass. “To Cordelia.”
“To Cordelia!” they all chorused, clinking their glasses.
Three bottles of champagne later, things had become progressively less sophisticated. “I kissed a girl once,” said Buffy. “It was at summer camp. Her name was Amanda. She had really soft lips.”
Cordelia handed her empty glass to Angel, who refilled it. “I kissed a girl at summer camp, too! I can’t remember her name, but she had the prettiest hair. It was a deep rich red, like Willow’s.”
At the mention of Willow’s name, the effervescence faded from the mood. Buffy and Tara both looked sad.
The two men shared a look. Spike clapped his hands and stood up. “Let’s go girls. The Bronze is calling. Time to go shake your moneymakers.”
He helped Buffy up, as she lurched unsteadily in her heels. “Whee,” she said loudly. “I’m weeble wobbly.” He smiled down at her.
Angel peeled bills off a roll and threw them down on the table. Cordelia sank back her glass of bubbly and grabbed her wrap. Angel placed it gently around her shoulders as the group walked outside.
“It is such a pretty night,” said Tara. “The stars are so clear, and you can smell the ocean from here.” Spike helped her into the truck and then placed Buffy into the passenger seat. Angel helped Cordy step inside the massive vehicle.
“As the designated driver, I am responsible for your welfare,” intoned Spike. “Everybody buckled up?”
As everyone shouted their assent, he took off. “Let’s put the pedal to the metal.” He drove very fast, but in perfect control of the big truck. “I love this thing, Buffy,” he told her. “It’s got a lot of kick to it.” He smiled over at her, grinning wickedly.
“Yeah, that’s true. Enjoy trying to parallel park it, though,” said Buffy.
A short drive later, Spike pulled into the very first space on the end of the lot at the Bronze. “The parking gods have smiled upon me,” he joked.
They went into the club and sat down at their reserved table. ‘Can I fetch you some drinks, ladies?” the blonde offered.
“More champagne,’ said Cordelia. “Keep it coming.”
“Your wish is my command.” Spike went over to the bar.
“Buffy?” said a voice. She turned around and saw Xander.
“I really don’t want to fight any more,” she said unsteadily. “I’m having fun, with friends. People I love, who haven’t stabbed me in the back lately.”
He looked down at her, his eyes earnest. “Please, Buff. I don’t want to fight either. I just want to talk.”
She got up very carefully. “OK, let’s talk.” Wobbling slightly, she followed him upstairs. Angel turned to Cordelia. “Why don’t we go dance?”
“I thought you didn’t dance,’ she said. He gave her an appreciative look, admiring her and her strapless dress. “For you, I’ll make an exception.” She placed her hand in his with a smile as they walked to the dance floor. Angel was glad of the slow love song that gave him an excuse to pull her close.
Tara sat alone at the table, looking a little lost. She drummed her fingers on the table, absently looking around. Her face brightened when Spike appeared. He was laden with champagne in a metal bucket of ice, four flutes precariously pressed to his chest. He placed them down on the table, then opened the bottle with a small pop. “Where’s the rest of our little party?” he asked as he poured Tara a glass.
“Angel and Cordy hit the dance floor.” Tara paused slightly. “Bu-bu-buffy went off to talk to Xander.”
He tensed up and scanned the crowd. “Xander is here?”
She grabbed his wrist. He looked down angrily. “They’ve been friends a long time, Spike,” said Tara calmly. “If they can work this out, it would be good for both of them.”
Upstairs, Buffy sat with Xander, Anya and Willow. “We are so worried about you, Buffy,” said Anya. “We just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“Well, I’m not okay,” said Buffy shakily. “My best friends aren’t even talking to me, so how can I be okay?”
Willow looked at her, pain in her eyes. “Buffy, you know that we love you. But we can’t stand seeing you throw your life away on someone who isn’t even alive.”
Buffy pointed a wobbling finger at her friend. “You don’t understand, Willow. Spike is the person who saved my life.” She took a moment as she attempted to find focus. “I died,” she said, “to save all of you. I was in heaven, and I was so happy. I was at peace, content.”
She bit her lip as she held back tears. “When you all made your decision, and yanked me out, I was so lost.” She looked up and made eye contact with each of them. ‘You all saw how out of it I was when I came back. All I wanted was to die again. Dawn stopped me from ending my life. But it was Spike who made me live it.”
She pressed her shaking hands together, and hid them in her skirt. ‘When I saw him for the first time, I saw in his eyes how much he loved me. And I felt it too. I knew I loved him, that I’d loved him even before I died. When he looked at me, it was like a magnet to steel. It pulled me in. It kept me here, kept me strong. When I wanted to cut my wrists, or hang myself, or overdose on pills, I went to him. He’s the only reason I’m still alive.” Her voice broke, and she choked back a sob.
Xander’s eyes were full of sorrow and guilt. Willow’s tears ran down her face, unchecked. “I couldn’t tell him that I loved him. I knew it was wrong. I knew you all would hate it. I knew all the reasons why he wasn’t worthy of me.” Buffy smiled bitterly. “I was Saint Buffy, up on my pedestal, keeping the evil vampire in his place.” She paused for a second. “And even when I made love to him, when we became lovers, I stayed on that pedestal. I didn’t give him so much as a grain of affection. It was too close to the truth.”
Buffy looked up into Xander’s eyes. “Anya saw us together. I was horrified, ashamed that you all would learn my little secret. And so I threw Spike away.” She looked at Willow. ‘He tried to kill himself. He nearly died. That’s why Angel and Tara helped me with the ritual. I begged them to. I told them that if Spike died, I’d kill myself.” She stared at them, her eyes a hard, dark green. “It was the truth.”
Xander leaned forward. “But how can he mean that much to you, Buffy? How can one person mean the difference between life and death?”
“He’s my heaven,” she said softly. “Being with him, it’s being back in heaven.”
Willow’s sobs rang out. Buffy went to her. They rocked together, crying. Xander wrapped his arms around them. Anya placed her arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. The four friends rocked back and forth, moving as one.
Down on the dance floor, Spike and Tara danced, moving gracefully. “I’m really glad that you’re my friend,” he said. She looked up at him, surprised. ‘You saved my life, healed Buffy. You went toe to toe with the Scoobies, even though I know it hurt you.” He looked down at her, his eyes sparkling. “Plus, now you’ll dance with me. And I can see all the way down your dress.” Taken aback, she looked downward. ‘You cannot, you creep!” she said with a flush, as he howled with laughter. She smacked him lightly, laughing herself, as they continued their dance.
Across the room, Cordelia and Angel swayed together. Her head rested gently on his shoulder. His hand was splayed widely across her bare back, touching as much of her as possible. They were lost in each other, held in a moment of rare peace.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Chapter 12: Slaves To Love
"Make a wish," said Angel softly. Cordelia leaned forward and blew out the candles of her birthday cake. His eyes were locked on her face as she smiled widely.
"What did you wish for?" asked Willow.
"That would be telling," she replied. Tara pulled out the smoking candles from the cake and set them aside.
Buffy brought over a stack of plates and silverware and a cake server from the china cabinet. "I'm breaking out the china in your honor," she said.
"I want my piece with that big pink flower on it," said Cordy. Buffy cut a generous slice and handed it to her, then passed forks and plates of cake to everyone else. "Thanks!" said the birthday girl. "Can we open my presents now?" She was as excited as a child at the prospect.
"Whatever you want," said Spike, through a mouth full of cake. "Open ours first, though. It's the pink one."
She obediently reached for the flat box and opened it. Seeing the soft ivory colored sweater inside, she stroked it with her hand and peeked at the tag. "Oh my God," she enthused. "You bought me cashmere?" She gave Spike a big hug, causing Angel to glare at him. She then hugged Buffy too. "This is the best present ever!"
"Cashmere is so nice," said Anya, looking a little envious. "Nice and expensive. I wish I had a cashmere sweater." She gazed at it longingly.
"Maybe for your birthday, An," Xander said as he ate.
"Why don't you open mine now?" suggested Angel. "It's the really big one."
"I want to open Tara's next," said Cordy. She opened up an intricately wrapped box to reveal a set of three glass bottles.
"They're homemade," said Tara apologetically. "But I know how much you like gardenia, and they are all scented with it. It's bath salts, shower gel and lotion."
"Thanks so much," said Cordelia enthusiastically as she hugged the other girl.
Angel cleared his throat and pointed at his gift. "Did you get me what I think you got me? The thing I dropped eight million hints about?" asked Cordelia.
"That would be telling," Angel replied with a small smile.
Cordelia clapped excitedly and unwrapped her present. Silence descended upon the room as they regarded her gift. "Isn't it great?" gushed Cordy. She turned to Angel and he opened his arms for a hug. She placed the box in his arms. "Can you carry that into the living room for me?" she asked him.
Buffy pulled the blender out of a cabinet and set it up on the kitchen counter. Spike walked into the kitchen and playfully slapped her ass as he grabbed a bottle of rum from a cabinet. "Angel's going to be the first up to sing karaoke," he said delightedly. "You don't want to miss this." He went out to the living room.
"Really classy guy you picked for yourself, Buff," Xander said as he grabbed a can of frozen margarita mix and a bowl of ice from the freezer.
"Yep, he's a total Neanderthal. But I kind of like that in a guy." She rummaged in a cabinet, coming up with another bottle of rum.
"I understand that you love him," he said, "but the appeal is really lost on me."
"This party is supposed to be a smoothing over the edges, bonding experience," she reminded him. "So save the snarkiness for another time." She poured the ingredients in the blender and Xander hit the button. He poured them each a cup and they drank.
"Tasty," he said as he slurped loudly.
"Margaritas are such a good thing. I can feel the tension melting away," she said, as she rolled her shoulders.
"What's cooking, drink-wise?" asked Willow as she came in the room.
Feedback blared loudly. "Strawberry margaritas," said Buffy, as she handed her a cup. The three friends followed the noise to the living room.
"Totally Eighties Hits or Pop Hits of the Nineties?" asked Spike.
"Eighties," said Cordelia. The vampire popped a disk into the karaoke machine and fiddled with the connection to the television set. A slow electronic beat filled the living room as lyrics scrolled across the screen.
"Come on, Angel, you're up," said Cordelia. He took the microphone from her and looked at her plaintively. "Please?" she asked. "For me?" He sighed and nodded.
"Give me time to realize my crime, let me love and steal," sang Angel uncomfortably, "I have danced inside your eyes, how can I be real?"
"This is fucking brilliant," said Spike as he flopped into a chair. "Everyone should have one of these. You can torture all your friends in the spirit of a having a good time."
"Be nice," said Buffy as she sat down at his feet.
"Tell me this isn't hysterical," he said, enjoying the spectacle. "Admit to me that this is the funniest thing you've ever seen in your life."
"Do you really want to hurt me?" sang Angel stiffly. "Do you really want to make me cry?" Buffy cracked up, and so did Spike. Tara covered her mouth and turned around.
"Don't be so mean," said Willow. "Singing in public is very embarrassing for some people. Especially if you don't sing very well." Angel threw down the microphone and stormed off.
"That didn't come out how I meant it," said Willow to Tara. The blonde girl smiled at her sympathetically.
"You go apologize to him, Spike," said Cordy angrily.
"I'm going," said Spike as he rose. "I'll make nice." He grabbed his bottle of rum and left the room.
Buffy got up and sat next to Xander on the couch. "I want to sing 'Xanadu','" said Anya excitedly.
"Cordelia said I could be next and I want to sing 'Total Eclipse of the Heart'," said Willow. The two girls glared at each other.
"I found one we can all sing together," said Cordy. The quartet of girls gathered around the microphones and peered at the screen. "Can you hear them, they talk about us," she sang.
"Telling lies, well that's no surprise," sang Anya.
"Can you see them, see right through them," sang Tara.
"They have no shield, no secrets to reveal," sang Willow tunelessly.
Spike stepped out onto the back porch. Angel stood there and looked off into the distance. "Does she know you love her?" asked Spike softly.
Angel looked at him. "I don't know what you mean."
"I know you love Cordelia," Spike said. "There's no way you'd make such an ass out of yourself otherwise."
"There's no point telling her," said the other man. "Nothing could ever come of it."
"Why not?" asked Spike. "Because you can't fuck her?"
"Don't talk about her like that," growled Angel loudly.
"Is it just the sex that's holding you back?" asked Spike directly. "Or is it something else as well?" He held out the bottle to Angel.
"Pretty much just the sex," admitted Angel, as he swallowed the rum.
"The woman obviously loves you," Spike said. "She takes care of your child, tells you how to spend your money, argues with you night and day. You're as good as married already."
"But I can't ever be there for her, not completely," said Angel. "I can't fulfill her needs."
"Think about it this way," said the other man. "Imagine you've already shagged her every way imaginable, the sex is beyond belief, everything's great. Suddenly, there's an accident. You can't make love anymore; your equipment is out of commission. Do you tell her to go find a better man, a whole man?"
"Well, yes, I would," said Angel. "Because I love her, and I want her to be happy."
"That's your fucking problem, Peaches. You get all noble, and make the grand sacrifice, instead of using your brain." He looked at Angel. "You let Buffy go; you left her to make a life without you. And she has. Can you tell me that you don't regret it?"
"No," the other man admitted. "I can't."
"Then don't make the same mistake twice." Angel took a deep swig of rum. "You've got hands, and a mouth, and a heart, same as any other man. If you love her, show her how you feel." Spike patted him on the back and stepped inside. Angel sat on the porch, and slowly polished off the bottle of rum.
Anya and Xander looked through the karaoke discs. Anya put one in and handed a microphone to her fiancé. "I'm too sexy for my love, too sexy for my love, love's going to leave me," she sang.
"I'm too sexy for my shirt, too sexy for my shirt, so sexy it hurts," sang Xander.
Spike walked in and grabbed Buffy's hand. "We need to leave," he said.
"Why, what's wrong?" she asked, concerned.
"We need to go patrol," he said as he handed her a coat. "We should get in a bit of the rough and tumble, you know?" he said distinctly. He arched his eyebrow.
"We do? Oh! Yeah we definitely do," she exclaimed as she put on her coat. "We're going to go patrol, we'll be back later," she said to Xander. "There are sheets in the closet if you want to sleep in Dawn's room."
"Thanks!" said Anya loudly into the microphone. It squealed with feedback as Buffy and Spike slipped out the front door.
"I think I'm going to turn in," said Willow. She made her way to the stairs. Tara followed her into the foyer. "Can I talk to you for a minute? Privately?"
Angel walked into the living room. "Cordelia, I need to talk to you," he said urgently.
"Is it Connor?" she said. She pulled a baby monitor out of her pocket and held it up to her ear. "I don't hear him."
Angel gently took it away from her. "The baby's fine," he said. "Come with me." He took her hand in his and led her from the room.
****************
Buffy and Spike were stretched out naked on the seat of her Suburban. His blond head moved between her thighs as he energetically lapped at her swollen clit with his tongue. "Oh yeah, oh God," she said breathily. She let out a prolonged moan as she arched her back up to meet his mouth. He held her hips tightly as he brought her to orgasm. "You have the most amazing mouth," she said as she calmed. Her hands moved down to his head and pulled him up to her.
"I love the way you taste," he said. "There's nothing compares to it." He nipped her neck as he moved inside her. "I love you," he said in her ear. "You mean everything to me."
"I love you, so much," she sighed.
"You're mine," he said breathily as she shifted underneath him and he penetrated her more deeply. She kissed him deeply as she moved her hips to match his thrusts.
"Tell me," she gasped.
"I love you," he said. They stared at each other in wonder as they moved in rhythm. "No one else makes me feel the way you do."
She clawed at his back as he stroked deeper and faster within her. "Yeah, that's so good," she said. "You're perfect. Fuck me, fuck me harder."
"Buffy," he said frantically as he threw his head back. He pulsed harder and harder within her, as they both climbed towards orgasm.
"Spike," she cried, as he came inside her with a moan. She clenched around him as she buried her face in his shoulder.
****************
Willow and Tara sat upstairs on the bed they used to share. "I've really missed you," said Tara. "It's been really hard doing all this research to help Spike and Buffy, and doing the healing spells for her is exhausting."
"How is she doing?" asked Willow seriously.
"She gets headaches a lot. And high fevers that nothing other than magic will break," the other witch replied. "We still don't know what's causing them, or what else might happen because of the claiming."
"I want to help," said Willow. "Now that I understand what's really been going on, I want to help. I want to be here. For Buffy, and for you." She reached out and touched Tara's hair gently.
"Things are going to have to be different," said Tara. "I need to know that I can count on you, that I can trust you."
"You can trust me," said Willow, as she leaned forward and kissed her lips.
Tara pulled away. "You really hurt me," she said uncertainly. "We can't just go on like nothing happened."
"I love you," said Willow. "I'll make it all up to you. Please don't push me away." Tentatively, Tara lifted her chin, and Willow stroked her hair as she gave her a long, slow kiss.
****************
"It's a pretty night," said Cordelia, as she looked up at the stars. She turned and smiled at Angel. "Thanks for the gift. It really made my night."
"It was my pleasure," he replied. "I liked seeing you sing and laugh."
"Yeah, as usual, fun and happiness are in short supply in Sunnydale," she said. They sat in silence for a moment as they took in the stillness of the night. "So what did you want to talk about?"
"There's something that I really want to say," said Angel. "I should have said it a long time ago." Cordelia turned to look at him. He reached out his hand and touched her hair. "I love you."
"I love you too," she said warmly.
"I'm in love with you, Cordelia," he said softly.
She looked at him with a shocked expression. "In love?" she said uncertainly.
"I am," he said, his face serious. "Every day I love you a little bit more. When I see you holding Connor, or the way that you smile, or how hard you work, the drive that you have. Every minute that I'm with you, I need you a little more." Her eyes grew wide and soft, and she reached out her hand for his. He reached towards her, and abruptly she stood up and turned away.
"We can't do this," she said quietly. "This can't happen."
"Do you love me, Cordelia?" She didn't answer. He went to her and turned her around. Her eyes were full of tears. "I think you do," he said firmly. "The same way that I know I love you. I see the way you look at me, how you speak to me, how you touch me. Tell me that I'm not imagining things. Tell me that I'm not insane."
"I'm afraid," she admitted.
"The curse," he said. She nodded. "I can't have a moment of happiness," he said. "But there's nothing that says that I can't give you one." He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. She stood stiffly for a moment, and then relaxed into the kiss. She wrapped her arms around his waist, and he held her tightly.
She pulled away. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry, I just can't."
****************
Spike and Buffy slipped upstairs and settled into their bed. He pulled her close to him as they fell asleep, and she smiled at his touch. A few hours later, pain pulsed through her head, awakening her. She pulled on her clothes and went downstairs. Happily, there was some orange juice left. She poured herself a large glass and took a big gulp to wash down six aspirin tablets.
Xander walked into the kitchen and peered into the refrigerator. "You're a little low on food, Buff," he said. He shook the empty juice carton.
"I wasn't planning on a sleepover," she replied. "Although I am glad that it worked out that way."
"Want to make a food run to the Quick Stop and we can get some doughnuts? It'll be a nice surprise when everyone wakes up."
She checked her watch. "I've got an hour until sunrise. Let's go for it." He grabbed his jacket and they left through the back door.
****************
Cordelia lay awake, and stared at the ceiling, her mind filled with racing thoughts. Connor let out a small cry, and she made her way to the crib. "It's alright, pumpkin," she said soothingly. She adjusted the pacifier back into his mouth and he sucked greedily. She sang to him softly and gently rubbed his back until he fell asleep again.
She turned around and stared straight into Angel's bare chest. She gasped and looked up. He stared down at her hungrily. Her heart began to race, and he reached out his hand to rest it against her pulse. They stared into each other's eyes as the awareness passed between them of how close they were to each other. He couldn't stop himself from sliding his hands sensuously over her bare shoulders. She didn't push him away, just shut her eyes and moaned at the caress. He bent his mouth down to hers, enfolding her in a scorching embrace.
****************
Xander and Buffy perused the aisles of the convenience store. Buffy looked at a shelf of donuts. "What's your vote, crullers or chocolate dipped?" she asked Xander.
He walked over, his basket full of milk and juices. "I vote for chocolate dipped," he said. "But Spike and Anya are both cruller fans."
She picked up a box of each variety and tossed them in the basket. "Problem solved."
The lady behind the counter rang up their purchases when the chime rang on the door. Buffy was shoved aside as a man stepped in front of her and pointed a gun at the clerk. "Empty the register, bitch," he said gruffly. The clerk began to cry as she fumbled with the key. "Hurry the fuck up." She cried harder and her hands shook. "I said hurry up," the man yelled, his hand shaking. He turned and shot out both of the security cameras. Xander startled at the noise and dropped his basket to the floor with a loud crash. The man turned and shot him in the chest. Blood exploded everywhere as Xander fell to the floor. The clerk began to scream, and the man shot her in the head. Brains and blood splattered as the girl fell behind the counter, out of sight.
Buffy felt cool and calm for a second. It seemed surreal, too surreal to happen. She looked down at Xander's pale face, at the blood that pooled all around him. The man turned, and she saw him raise the gun at her. Rage filled her veins, and she felt the demon rising, felt the bloodlust pour through her. Abruptly, she reached out and snapped the man's neck as pain fired through her head.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Chapter 13: When the World Falls Apart
Giles walked through the airport terminal, his garment bag slung over his shoulder. A willowy brunette and a harried looking man in a business suit waited for him at the gate. “Cordelia,” he said, enfolding her into a hug. “Hank,” Giles was noncommittal as he shook Buffy’s father’s hand. “So good of you to come.”
“I’m afraid I’m here to catch a flight myself,” Hank said apologetically. “I have business in Madrid that I wasn’t able to get out of. The doctors tell me that Buffy’s coma isn’t likely to reverse itself and it wouldn’t do any good to stay.”
Giles regarded the other man for a moment. “You do what you think is important. I’ll be here when she awakens.”
Hank smiled uncomfortably. “Yes, of course.” He paused. “Dawn is settled back in at school and trying to go on normally. She doesn’t need to be upset unnecessarily. If anything changes in Buffy’s condition please let me know before you tell her.”
“Of course,” Giles’ voice was sharp. “I wouldn’t want to overstep my place when it comes to your children.” The two men stared at each other.
“Thanks again for coming,” said Hank. He plucked nervously at his tie, then turned and walked to the ticket counter.
“Only two weeks and the bloody bastard has given up on her already,” Giles said angrily.
“It’s been hard to deal with all this,” Cordelia said. “Everyone is doing the best they can.”
“How is Spike? If his condition improves, or vice versa, there must be hope for them both,” asked Giles.
Cordelia shook her head. “They have both been comatose since Buffy killed the gunman. Tara tried magic to deactivate the chip, but nothing she tried worked. She takes care of Spike at home, but it’s taking more and more of her magic just to get him to feed. He’s skeletal; he doesn’t look remotely human anymore. He won’t last much longer, even tapping out all she has to give.”
Giles sighed and cleaned his glasses. “And Xander? Has there been any improvement?”
“He’s still not breathing on his own. He had a living will made, and it’s clear that he wanted to be taken off life support if there was no chance of recovery. His parents have scheduled a memorial service for tomorrow.”
****
Willow held Xander’s hand as the respirator pumped life into his body. “I know you can hear me,” she told him. “I love you so much, and I really need you.” She tightened her hold on his hand. “I’ve needed you my whole life. You’ve always been there for me. Don’t leave me now.”
Anya patted Willow on the back. “They’re going to turn off the respirator,” she said, her voice thick with strain. “We should leave now.” Mrs. Harris stood on the other side of the bed, sobbing into a handkerchief, as her husband stood behind her with a stony face.
“I’m not going to leave him,” responded Willow fiercely. “He could wake up any time.”
“We’ve gone through this, Willow,” rebuked the other woman. “This is what Xander wanted. He left a living will, and he was very specific. This is the way he wanted to end his life.”
“I’m not willing to let him go!” Willow’s face was red and swollen from weeping. “Am I supposed to just walk away? Buffy’s in a coma; are we going to go unplug her next?” She laughed hysterically as she plucked at the front of her crumpled shirt with her free hand.
“Please don’t make this any harder on me,” Anya whispered painfully. “I love him so much. This is the last thing I would ever want to do.” She covered her face with her hands and cried. Willow held her and rested Anya’s head on her shoulder.
“This can’t be happening,” declared Willow. “I won’t let this happen.” She pulled away, her eyes pure black. “Subsisto!” The world froze in its tracks. The tears on Anya’s face halted in their path. The respirator stopped its motion. The sobbing of Xander’s mother ceased. Everything was still, clear, and quiet.
She went to Xander and placed her hand on his chest. Her red hair swung down and brushed his cheek as she intoned over him, “vivo vixi victum.” Tears fell from her eyes and moistened his face. Crackling trails of blue energy cascaded from the witch’s fingertips, cocooning Xander and flickering brightly. She eased the surgical tape from his mouth and pulled the respirator tube from his throat. Healthy color replaced the pallor of his skin. She gently placed her hand on his chest, and felt the rise and fall of his breath. She kissed him gently on the forehead and caressed his cheek. For several minutes, they sat together as Willow watched him sleep peacefully, a smile on her face.
With no warning, her expression became stormy again; Willow rose from her seat beside Xander and stalked down the hall. The other people in the corridor stood frozen, trapped in the moment. Opening the door to Buffy’s room, she found the bed empty and Angel on the floor in a pool of blood, his throat slit. Willow placed her hand on his chest and electricity sparked from her fingertips. “Sano.” The wound reversed itself, the blood flowing back into his throat, tissue mending. “Tempis resumo,” intoned the witch. The hospital sprang to life around them, phones ringing, machines functioning, and people talking. Angel grabbed at his throat.
“Drusilla,” he gasped. “She took Buffy.”
“How could a vampire just waltz in here and take her without anyone noticing?” Willow cried in disbelief.
“Magic,” he croaked. “She has a mage with her.”
Willow smiled, and darkness filled her eyes again. “Good. I’m up for a fight.”
****
“This is the way the world ends, the world ends, the world ends,” a voice sang sweetly. “This is the way the world ends, not with a bang but a whimper.” The garden was dark and peaceful; the only sound was the gentle trickle of the fountain. Buffy rested in white, fragile arms, rocked gently like a child. Blood trickled down the Slayer’s throat and she drank it greedily. “Such a good girl for Mummy,” Drusilla purred in her ear. “Sire’s blood will heal you. Silly doctors don’t know how to heal my baby girl.” Dru pulled her wrist away from Buffy’s mouth and gently kissed her lips.
Buffy slowly stirred. “Where am I?” she asked. “What happened to me?”
“You’re dying,” the vampire said calmly. “A little whizbang popped you in the head and you’re dying.”
“I don’t want to die,” whispered Buffy. “I’m finally happy.”
“You can live forever,” crooned Drusilla seductively. “You can be loved forever.” She ran her fingers over Buffy’s neck, and her features morphed. Buffy opened her eyes and looked up at the vampire.
“I don’t want to lose my soul,” Buffy struggled weakly. “I don’t want to be evil.”
Drusilla grabbed Buffy by the throat with one hand. Pointing her fingers at her eyes, she commanded, “Be still and listen.” Entranced, Buffy obeyed. “If you don’t do as I tell you our William will die. Your mortal body is failing and he is fading away. ”
Drusilla leaned forward and licked Buffy’s neck. “You taste so sweet, so warm.” She nuzzled Buffy, trailing her mouth down to the juncture of Buffy’s shoulder. “Such a good girl,” Dru crooned. “When you wake up from your sleep we will have a wonderful party.” The vampire sank her fangs into Buffy’s throat, and her heartbeat rang loudly in the vampire’s ears, until it stopped.
Drusilla stood up slowly from the ground and looked down at her handiwork. Buffy’s dead eyes were open and staring. The golden strands of her hair spilled over the dark ground. Drusilla tilted her head back and smiled up at the night sky. “Take her,” Drusilla said to the man who stood in the shadows. He lifted the slayer and rested her gently in a shallow grave.
****
Buffy’s bedroom was filled with soft light and flowers. Incense burned in a cauldron as Tara gently turned Spike onto his side. His eyes stared vacantly forward. She bathed his nude body with a damp sponge and lay him carefully back down. She rubbed oil into his hands and feet, then covered him with the sheet and blanket. She moistened his lips with balm and wiped his face clean. She sat next to him and positioned his head on the pillows before she opened a book of poetry. “Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold,” she read quietly. “Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world. The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere, the ceremony of innocence is drowned. The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity. “
He turned his head and looked up at her. “Spike?” Tara asked, disbelieving.
He smiled at her, his blue eyes blazing with affection. He slid his hand into hers and held it tightly. “The first time I died it hurt. This is so easy. It doesn’t hurt a bit.”
He turned his head away, and disappeared in a soft puff. “No,” Tara cried out. “No!” She held out her hand, and stared at the shimmering dust within.
Giles and Cordelia entered the Summers house. “I made up Dawn’s room for you,” she said. “And Tara made a casserole for dinner if you’d like to eat.”
“I just want to take a brief rest and then go to the hospital,” said Giles.
She looked at her watch. “Visiting hours will be over soon. You may as well get a good night’s sleep tonight and see Buffy in the morning.” He looked at her. “Eat, and rest,” she said gently. “There is nothing that can be done now.”
They walked into the kitchen. Nanny Travers fed Connor baby food as he sat in his high chair, gurgling and smiling. “You must be Connor,” said Giles with a smile. He leaned down and caressed the baby’s cheek. “I’m Rupert Giles,” he introduced himself to the nanny.
Screaming rang out from upstairs. Giles took off running and dashed up the stairs. Tara sat in Buffy’s bed, hysterical. “Tara?” he inquired, taking her hands. He noticed the empty bed. “Where’s Spike?” She held out her clenched hand, and upended a few wisps of dust into Giles’ palm. “Dear God,” he said his face blanching.
****
Angel peeled out of the hospital parking lot and pressed a cell phone to his ear. “Cordelia. Let me speak to Giles.” He paused. “Drusilla has Buffy.”
“Spike is gone,” the Englishman told Angel. “If what I understand of the claiming is accurate, that means Buffy must be dead.”
“Dru will turn her,” Angel said. “We need to find out where she’ll rise. It has to be somewhere with enough dirt to bury her, and it will have a view of the night sky.”
****
Drusilla carefully moved handfuls of dirt over the grave. “Good night, sleep tight,” she sang, “don’t let the bed bugs bite.” She continued her task until all that was before her was a smooth mound of dirt. She tilted her head back and looked up at the stars in the sky. “Star light, star bright,” she said ecstatically. “Shine brightly on my child tonight.”
****
“It’s a miracle,” cried Anya. “Oh, thank God.” She held Xander’s hand tightly as she peppered it with kisses.
“What happened?” asked Xander, his voice raspy. He sipped on water through a straw.
“You underwent surgery to remove a bullet from your lung,” the doctor explained. “You went into arrest on the table and have been on life support ever since.” He smiled broadly. “It really is a miracle that you’re moving and breathing on your own.”
“Where is Willow?” asked Anya. The Harrises shook their heads. “Where could she have gone?”
Willow sat in front of a computer in a darkened hospital administration office. “Nurseries Sunnydale,” she typed into a search engine. She waved her hand at the screen and a list of names and addresses popped onto the screen. “Stars Sunnydale,” she typed. More information appeared on the screen. “This is taking way too long,” she muttered to herself, impatiently.
She stood up and outstretched her arms, closing her eyes and spinning in a circle. “Locate,” she said as she spun. She focused on Buffy, and came up with nothing. “Locate,” she said, spinning faster. She focused on Drusilla, and images flashed into her mind. Sky. Lights. Street. House. Room. She watched Drusilla in her mind’s eye.
*Giles, Angel,* she said telepathically. *She’s at the mansion on Crawford Street.*
“I really hate it when she does that,” Giles muttered under his breath. He grabbed weapons and shoved them into a black bag.
“She’s supposed to have given up magic,” Angel said as he flicked on a butane torch. Blue flame burst out from the nozzle.
“Well, we’ll deal with that disastrous turn after we deal with this one,” replied Giles. He slid a stake into each sleeve of his shirt.
Cordelia walked up from the basement and handed them small glass globes filled with holy water. Each man tucked one a few into their pockets. “Don’t trip and fall on that or anything,” she said to Angel. “It’s to hurt the other vampires, not you.”
He shot her a look and his face softened when he saw her worried expression. “It will be all right,” he soothed.
“You guys are going to kill Buffy,” she pointed out. “How can anything be all right?”
“The Buffy we know is dead already. Being turned was her worst nightmare,” Giles said quietly. “It is our responsibility to prevent that from happening.”
****
Willow ran out of the hospital. “Open”, she said to a gray sports car. The door popped open and she slid inside. “Drive,” she commanded, and the car sped out of the parking lot.
****
“Oh, darling,” Drusilla said happily. “This will all be so wonderful.” She clapped her hands and twirled around.
The tall black haired vampire wrapped his arms around her. “Whatever makes you happy, my dark rose,” he said as he kissed her neck.
“It shall be like old times. All my boys and I. We shall hunt, and dance, and make glorious love in the moonlight.” The soil under her feet began to crack and move and she stepped back. “We shall be a family again.” Buffy’s white hands burst out from the ground. She sat up inside the grave. Dark soil streamed over her, running from her hair down her chest. Drusilla grabbed her hands and lifted her to her feet. “Happy Birthday to you,” she sang brightly.
“I’m hungry,” said Buffy roughly.
“Of course you are, my sweet child. Let’s just get you cleaned up, and we shall have a feast fit for a princess.” She took Buffy by the hand and led her inside the mansion.
****
“Are you sure this is the right thing to do?’ asked Angel as he drove.
“If there was any way to reverse this, any way to restore her life, I would do it gladly,“ Giles replied. “But there is no other way. For Buffy to live as a soulless demon, for her to become the thing that she hated most, that is worse than death.”
“She loved Spike,” said Angel. “She’d moved beyond the hatred. She saw him as a man, and more than that, a good person. Even without a soul.” He paused. “And the way that I understand the claim, it is eternal. If one lives, they both live. If Buffy rises, Spike will rise too.” He looked directly at the Watcher. “You won’t just be killing Buffy. You’ll be killing Spike as well.”
“Spike existed for over a century as a vampire,” said Giles. “And he lived a mortal lifespan as well.” He snapped a bolt into the crossbow. “If he truly loved her, he would want me to do this.”
****
Willow ran down the steps and entered the garden of the mansion. She saw the open grave and the path of dirt that led inside. She rushed to enter. A tall figure walked from the shadows and stood in front of her. “I will not let you interfere,” a low voice said.
Willow’s eyes glowed brightly as blue fire flared up and down her hands. “Nothing can stop me,” she said.
He waved at her hands and smoke drifted from them, the fire extinguished. “Apparently your logic is a bit flawed.”
The witch backed away as she blazed bright with energy. “I am strong! I am powerful! No one can stop me.”
The vampire walked towards her, and his features became clear in the moonlight. He tilted his head at her and smiled widely. His brown eyes were warm. “You are nothing but an angry little kitten.” She brought up her hand and tossed a ball of energy at him. He caught it easily and threw it into the wall, where is shattered the stone. “Why don’t you save some time and sheathe your claws.“ He crossed his arms and stared at her. His long black hair swayed slightly in the breeze.
“Who do you think you are?” she hissed.
“I am Aurelius,” he replied.
****
Drusilla paced around an opulent bedroom, the silk of her kimono sliding across the carpets. A fire blazed in the fireplace, casting shadows on the walls. Buffy was shackled at the wrists to a large four poster bed, her body clothed in a sheer black gown. She stared up at the ceiling, her face expressionless. Drusilla picked up a small chain with a twist of metal at each end from the bedside table. “Our clan has many traditions.” She slithered onto the bed in a blur of white silk and straddled the other girl. The mass of Dru’s unbound black hair draped around Buffy’s face as she leaned forward. She ran her tongue along Buffy’s eyebrow as the chain twined through her long pale fingers. The other woman didn’t respond at all. “You’re part of our family now, so it’s up to Mummy to teach you.” She bent her head and pressed her lips to Buffy’s. The fledgling turned her head, breaking the embrace.
Drusilla grabbed Buffy’s chin tightly in her grasp. “I am your sire. You submit to me,” she said in firm tones, her eyes blazing green. She clenched her hand and Buffy whimpered in pain. Drusilla brought her mouth to her child’s and kissed her deeply. “You taste so sweet. No wonder they all buzz around you. Bees want to drink such sweet nectar.” She slipped the straps down Buffy’s shoulders and revealed her breasts. The blonde girl was a pliable as a doll, not providing any resistance. “You’re a very good girl,” enthused the dark haired vampire. “You obey me well.” She drew her nail down Buffy’s cheek and licked the trail of blood that formed there.
Drusilla cupped her hand underneath the other woman’s breast and delicately pinched the small nipple between her fingers. Buffy startled in response, a faint noise escaping her lips. Drusilla repeated the movement on the other nipple, then brought the chain up and snapped a clip to each one. Buffy gasped, shocked at the pain. “You have to work through the pain to gain the pleasure,” purred Drusilla. She yanked on the chain, making Buffy cry out. “You’ve only come half of the way.” She drew her hand down to the hem of Buffy’s gown. “You’ve done the claiming, but you’ve never been claimed. You have to give over, let someone else take the reins. You haven’t let anyone master you, not since Angelus.” Her hand tugged the gown off, the fabric sliding across Buffy’s stomach and down her legs. Nude, Buffy shivered as she stared at the other vampire.
Drusilla grinned, a predatory smile full of promise and anticipation. She gently brushed her hand across the soft curls of the blonde’s mound. “You’re my slave now, as William was before. Just as we were Angelus’, and he was Darla’s.” Abruptly, she morphed into her demon self, and sank her fangs into the soft flesh of Buffy’s thigh. The girl screamed, her cry echoing off the walls and ceiling of the room. Drusilla pulled away, leaving bite marks and a trail of blood in her wake. “I will make you sing a beautiful song of pain, my dear,” she said, pleasure animating her delicate human face.
She walked to the fire and pulled out a red-hot poker, the tip glowing orange. “I will break you as Angelus broke me. I will mark you forever, as he marked me. It is our way, our tradition.” She swung it close to Buffy. The new vampire stared at it as if mesmerized, making no attempt to get away.
“I never did think highly of tradition,” announced a cold voice from the doorway. Spike stood there in full demon visage, his face tight with anger. In his hand he held a large battle-ax.
“Spike!” Drusilla cried with delight. “I knew you’d come.” She got up from the bed and ran to him. He took the poker from her and threw it into the fireplace, shattering it.
“I’ll kill you for this, Drusilla,” said Spike as he backhanded her savagely across the face. The female vampire flew back and hit the wall.
“I saved you, Spike,” she said in confusion. “I saved you both.” She darted away, her hands aflutter.
“You killed my wife!” He roared in anguish as he advanced upon her.
“You were both going to die,” she pleaded. “I didn’t want to lose you.”
“You stole her life,” he raged. “You made her a demon. You made her a slave.” With a mighty swing of the axe, he lopped off Drusilla’s head.
Continued...
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