*****

Standing in the shadows of the hall, I surveyed my
prey with open interest.  It had been a long time
since I had seen my sire last.
Months...years...decades....centuries.  They all tend
to blend together when you are as old as I.

He remained unchanged and yet was very different, at
the same time.  His hair was different.  In all the
years I had known him -- as a human and as his childe
-- it had remained the same; bleached and short.  Now
it was brown and shaggy.  Gone were his faded jeans,
black t-shirt and leather duster.  In their place were
leather pants, a navy button down and three quater
length, leather coat.  The only thing that he had
retained were his army surplus combat boots.  Very
twentieth century, but he made the ensemble
fashionable.  He still felt the same to my senses,
albeit stronger.  The prominent cheekbone structure,
lanky body and radiant cocky attitude (the one that
dared anyone in a fifty mile radius to mess with him)
were still in place.

The thing that struck me the most was how much
stronger he had become.  The power radiating off of
him struck me as soon as I entered the room.  I
shuddered.  The feel of him was the same, but it was
much more intense than when I had seen him last.  Not
surprising -- vampires strengthen as they age -- but
it was humbling to be in the presence of a vampire
older and more powerful than I.  In fact, I only know
of one other besides my sire that is older than I, and
that is my grandsire.

I chuckled silently.  Out of the three oldest vampires
in my line, and possibly the world, two had souls.
Rather ironic, really.

I had stole into my sire's headquarters with ease,
which was not all that shocking.  While my sire's
minions were well trained, I was even better equipped.
 Not many vampires are trained to use their senses to
detect magical energies.  One small stealth spell, and
I was inside.  A piece of the proverbial cake.

My sire dished out orders to his minions as fast as
they could comprehend them (and in some cases,
faster).  The minions resembled ants as the scurried
in and out to receive and carry out orders.  I
chuckled silently, yet again.  I, myself, had once
been an ant.  With a smile still on my face, I moved
until I was at the very back on the crowd.

Within a human breath, I let my shields fall,
revealing my presence.  A few of the assembled
stumbled as the sudden assault of my power hit them in
a sudden wave.  All heads snapped toward my direction,
and a few moved into a fighting stance but waited for
their master's commands.  The crowd parted, allowing
my sire to get the first sight of me in centuries.

"Is this a private party or can anyone join?" I asked.

My sire's eyes traveled up and down my body.  I had
changed over the years, a lot more than my sire had.
My signature fiery hair was masked with raven and fell
toward my face, which was darkly shadowed by glittery
powders.  My button down and pants were both black.
In years past, more color had sparkled in my wardrobe
than now.  As I have aged, I have come to appreciate
the darkness against my skin.  Or perhaps, I have
spent too much time with my brooding grandsire.  My
demeanor had also changed; I had become harder than I
once was.  The hardness was reflected in my eyes and
in the way I carried myself.  Of all of the things
that have happened since becoming a vampire, one of
the few I regret is the loss of my optimism.  I
suppose that seeing everything you were as a human
destroyed will do that to a person.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

His voice still carried the same "British" coloring,
even after all of these years.  My ears were glad to
hear it.  It was one of the little things that had
always endeared me to him, and, in an age of
globalization, I rarely heard regional accents
anymore.  It was rather refreshing.

I moved through the crowd, closer to him.  Two guards
moved to close in on me, to protect their sire with
their lives, but he stayed them with a quick hand
gesture.  I continued to walk through the bodies until
I had reached the point where my sire sat.  In a
gesture of respect, I dropped to my knees before him.
My head was bowed and my hair fell toward my face.

However my words betrayed my actions.  "Is this what I
have to look forward to in a couple hundred years, old
man?" I asked drily.  I was hurt that he did not
recognize me -- even if it had been a few centuries.
"Loss of manners and eye sight?  Goddess, just stake
me now."

"Do I have to ask you again or are you going to tell
me somewhere in this dreadful blather of yours?" he
asked, annoyed.

"Who am I?" I asked, in the same flat tone.  "You
know, I'm hurt.  You don't even remember me?  Your own
childe, no less.  I'd like to think that I meant more
to you than that."

"Look," he said.  "I don't know who the fuck you are,
but all of my childer are in the crowd, surrounding
you.  Quit playing games."

"But, daddy, you used to like my games," I deadpanned,
coming to my feet.  My hair fell back, revealing my
face fully for the first time that night.

The minions started to close in at my sudden
movements, but, again, my sire stayed them with a hand
gesture.

As he studied my face closely, his eyes widened with
recognition.  "Willow?" he asked, finally.

"The one and only," I replied.

He stood and walked toward me.  With aching
gentleness, he lifted one of his hands and began to
trace my features.  It was a gesture that he had done
many times in the past; however, it seemed to reassure
him that I was really who I claimed to be.  He leaned
closer to me and brushed his lips over my cheek.

"I thought you were dead," he said in my ear.

I smiled slightly.  "I'm hard to kill."

He turned back to the crowd.  "I do not want to be
disturbed for the rest of the evening.  You're
dismissed."  My sire watched the crowd until the last
of his followers had dissipated.

Turning back to me, he grabbed my hand and tugged on
it.  "Come, we have a lot to talk about," he ordered.

I followed him down a long hallway, examining as I
went.  His abode was an old brick mansion that had
probably been inhabited by a rich entrepreneur of
times past.  True to form, however, my sire had
updated the home with the latest technology.  He had
always loved to be surrounded by new things.

Stopping at the end of the hall, he pressed his hand
to the lock's scanner.  These days, keys were a thing
of the past.  Locks used fingerprinting or retina
scans, depending on the level of security that the
owner desired.  The lock clicked, and he pushed open
the door.  He allowed me to enter first and then
closed the door behind us.

The room was large.  The side nearest to the door was
a sitting area, complete with comfortable chairs and a
fireplace.  The other side housed a large mahogany
bed, which in itself was from an era long gone.
Nobody used wood anymore.

"Have a seat," he directed, moving over to a bar that
lined one wall.  "Do you want something to drink?"

I shook my head as I plopped down into one of the
chairs.

He shrugged and grabbed a bottle of vodka.  He poured
himself a glass and set the bottle down.  Taking a sip
of the clear liquid, he sat in the chair opposite me.
 

Our gazes locked and we stared at each other for
several long moments.  Although we had parted on good
terms, and it had been a mutual decision to separate,
it had been a long time for both of us.  Neither of us
had expected to be gone so long from each other.

"So," he said, breaking the silence, "what have you
been up to?"

"Not much," I answered with a shrug.  "Traveling and
observing, mostly.  Spent some time with Angel."

He growled at the mention of his sire's name.  "How is
the pillock?" he ground out.

I smiled.  "Come now, Spike.  You would think after
all of these years that you could at least tolerate
Angel.  He is, after all, my friend."

He simply glared at me.

"To answer the question, he's doing fine," I said.
"He's found happiness with a benevolent demon named
Lillian.  She suits him, and they get along great.
They've been together for close to eighty years now, I
think.  Probably more."

Spike's body relaxed visibly.  "Good."

I laughed.  "You thought...  Me and Angel?!"  My
laughter increased.  "I could never be with Angel!"

At the look on his face, my laughter subsided.  I knew
that he had once endured the hurt of the woman he
loved picking his sire over him.  "Angel is just a
friend.  He's a great travailing companion and is the
only one who can understand what it is like to be me,
in a sense, but nothing more.  I still think of him as
Buffy's, and she died centuries ago."

Crossing the room, I sat down on the side of his
chair.  "I missed you," I told him, bringing my hand
up to caress the side of his face.

Turning his face, he placed a soft kiss on my palm.
"I've waited many years for this day to come.  I
waited, biding my time.  I built a shield around
myself, not allowing anyone to penetrate it no matter
how hard they tried.  I remained faithful to you, but
finally I gave up hope.  I believed you dead, but yet
I still remained loyal to your memory.
Hoping...wishing that you would come back to me.  And
now that you have, I do not know what to do."

Tears welled in my eyes.  When I had left, I expected
his life to move on as normal...  I had wanted him to
take another lover and forget about me.  I never
wanted him to close himself off to companionship.
Fidelity was to be my sacrifice.  I was the one who
was supposed to carry the burden of him in my heart.
I studied him carefully.  He had changed too -- become
harder.  I had made him become that way.

"I never asked you to do that for me," I choked out.

He turned and looked at me.  "Do you honestly think
that I could have done anything else, pet?"

His endearment set me off.  My body wracked with sobs
filled with regrets.  He pulled me into my arms,
crawling my body close to his.  I buried my face into
his shirt and he gently began to rock me back in
forth, in a comforting gesture.  I gasped out my
apology between sniffles.

"Sh, luv," he whispered into my hair.  "It doesn't
matter now.  Nothing matters now.  You're where you
belong, at last."

His shirt was soaked with my blood tinged tears.
Eventually my ragged sobs faded into little sniffles
and then nothing.

I pulled back and looked up at him.  "I'm sorry...I'm
so sorry," I whispered at him.

"Hush, luv," he said softly.

"But-but I know it couldn't have been easy for you," I
said, ignoring him.  The thought of him being without
companionship for years horrified me.  It was
impossible to think of, but I knew that if it was what
my sire wished to do, he did it -- even though I had
encouraged him to do otherwise.

He chuckled softly at my distress.  "My nights weren't
all spent alone, Willow.  But I couldn't find anyone
who could satisfy me; no one lasted very long.  I
eventually stopped looking and waited for you.  You
are my true mate; I cannot be happy with anyone else."

"But you said..."

"I know what I said.  I have always remained faithful
to you here."  He picked up my hand and drew it to his
chest. "I didn't want to...  After you left, I wanted
to move on.  I wanted to forget about you, but I
couldn't.  Half of the time I was fucking another
woman, I'd be wishing that it was you."

I pouted.  "Real flattering, Spike.  You always did
know how to make me feel *really* special."  I hit him
on the arm.  "And here you had me thinking that you
had been alone all of these years.  And you've been
screwing around the whole time."  Hit.  "Not that I'm
jealous or anything but you didn't need to make me
think otherwise.  I felt awful."  Hit.  "I mean, it's
not like I asked you to put you're life on hold for
me.  I'm glad you mov-"

Cutting me off, Spike smothered my lips with his and
caught my hand as I started to hit him again.  I
sighed at the pleasure of feeling his lips against
mine.  A part of myself that I had locked away for a
very long time -- my passion -- came alive again.
Parting my lips, I deepened the kiss and buried my
hand in his hair, bringing him as close to me as
possible.  I slipped my tongue into his mouth,
reacquainting myself with all of its crevices.

My sire returned the kiss with the same fervor.  His
tongue sparred erotically with mine, as his hand came
up to stroke my cheek.  The arm that rested around my
waist tightened, as Spike stood.  Hoisting my legs up,
he carried me to the other side of the room and set me
down on top of his bed.

I pulled back from him and toed off my shoes, setting
the aside.  "What is this?" I teased lightly.  "Rush
me right off to bed as soon as you see me?  I'll have
you know that I am a proper lady."

Spike's eyes twinkled.  "Well, I happen to be a very
bad man, luv, and I intend to have my way with you."

"Oh really?" I asked with an arched brow, as he leaned
toward me.

"Really," he murmured, pressing kisses to my throat.

"Well," I said, with fake reluctance.  "I guess I'll
just have to let you have your way with me."  I
sighed.

Spike moved his lips from my throat to my mouth.
"Luv..." he whispered.  "Shut up."

To emphasize his point, Spike covered my mouth with
his.  Sparks ignited between us as our tongues
intertwined and battled for the upper hand.  Hands
roamed over cloth covered skin, reacquainting
themselves with long forgotten contours.  Limbs
entangled with each other so that one would not know
where sire began and chide ended.

Slipping my hands in-between our bodies, I pushed his
jacket off of his shoulders, letting it fall onto the
ground beside the bed.  Then I set to work on his
shirt.  One does not realize how much skill
unbuttoning a shirt takes until they try to do so
while otherwise distracted.  But the shirt soon
followed the fate of his coat.

I ran my hands over his bare chest.  Flipping us over,
I straddled his hips and captured his ear in my mouth.
 I delicately nipped at the fragile shell and traced
the crevices with the tip of my tongue.  Spike groaned
and threw his head back, allowing me access to his
neck.  Releasing my hold on his ear, I nipped lightly
on the skin of his throat with blunt teeth.  My
bloodlust stirred inside of me.  I fastened my lips
over his jugular and sucked firmly with my lips,
bringing the blood to the surface; however tempting, I
did not bite down.

Childer need permission from their sires before they
drink, no matter how close they may be.

Abandoning his throat before my desire to pierce the
skin grew too great, I kissed my way down his chest,
stopping at his flat nipples.  I cupped his flesh with
my hand and lowered my mouth to the nub of flesh.
Alternating between pleasing suction and teasing
bites, I worked over both of his nipples, inciting low
moans from him.

I rolled off of him and stood at the end of the bed.
Pausing long enough to catch his attention, I began to
rid myself of my clothes.  With a shrug of my
shoulders, my coat fell to the floor.  As I reached
around my body to unhook my black bustier, I could
feel my sire's gaze follow my every move, burning my
flesh with it's intensity.  I grabbed the front on the
leather contraption and threw it aside, exposing my
bare chest.

"Piercings, luv?" Spike asked, sounding amused.  He
had propped himself up on his elbows in order to watch
me.  The lust present in his eyes sent a shudder
through me.

"Wha-...oh!" I exclaimed and looked down at my bare
breasts.  Through each nipple was a delicate silver
hoop.  "I lost a bet.  A friend told me that I didn't
have the guts to get them done so I did it just to
prove them wrong -- with the aid of some particularly
strong vodka."  I shrugged.  "You get used to them
after a while."

I shrugged again and began to finish undressing.  A
sudden urge overtook me.  I wanted my clothes gone; I
wanted to be naked.  With little hesitation or
finesse, I undid my belt and stripped my pants off.
My panties and socks followed.

Spike's gaze on my naked flesh was so intense that I
felt as if fingertips instead of eyes were blazing a
path on my body.  He pulled himself from his reclined
position and knelt at the end of the mattress.

"Beautiful," he whispered before capturing my lips.

My hands roamed down his body to his belt.  With
little fumbling, I unfastened it and pulled it out of
his belt loops.  I tossed it to the floor and moved to
his button fly.  One by one, I unfastened the buttons.
 When I finished, his shaft sprung free, unhindered by
underwear.

I grinned.  "Still have an avoidance of undergarments,
I see."

"Touch me," he ordered.

"Yes, sire," I returned demurely.

I wrapped my fingers around his cock and rubbed his
shaft, my thumb teasing the head on every down stroke.
 He groaned and arched into my touch, bringing a smile
to my face.  Sex is like riding a bike; once you
learn, you never forget.

Placing a hand on his chest, I pushed Spike back onto
the bed and pulled off his jeans completely.  I
climbed onto the bed and straddled his calves.
Reclaiming his cock in my hand, I wiped away the drops
of precum that had formed at the head and brought my
fingers to my mouth, cleaning them of his fluids.

"Yummy," I commented, smirking.  I lowered my body
until mouth was even with his thighs.  "And
addictive."  I quickly engulfed his shaft in between
my lips, inciting a moan from his throat.  My teeth
and tongue teased his length as my hand cupped his
balls.

"Damn," he breathed softly, bucking up into my mouth.

I relaxed my throat, taking him completely into me and
then slowly drew back, never fully releasing him.  I
swirled my tongue teasingly along the underside of his
cock.  My hand trailed down from his balls to the
sensitive skin between them and his anus.  I gently
massaged the area with my index finger.

Suddenly, hands wrapped around my upper arms and
pulled me up to meet a kiss.  Spike tangled his hands
into my hair and pressed my lips closer against his.
Our tongues melted together, and our fingers roamed
each others bodies.

I gasped, pulling back from our kiss, as he brushed a
particularly susceptible part on my body.  His fingers
delved into my folds, finding my wetness.  He worked
one finger inside of me until he could add another and
another.  His thumb brushed my clit as three of his
fingers teased me.

Spike worked me until the point of orgasm and then
backed off completely.  I whined petulantly, but he
ignored me.  He brought his fingers up to my face,
spreading my juices over my lips.  I licked my lips,
cleaning them of the fluid and grabbed his hand.  One
by one, I sucked his fingers into my mouth, wiping
them with my tongue until I was satisfied that every
trace of my wetness was gone from them.

Groaning, Spike flipped us over so that he was the one
on top and plunged into me.  I groaned, reveling in
the feel of his length inside of me.  It had been too
long since I had known the pleasure that only my sire
could give me.  He rocked his hips, thrusting into me
slowly.  I tried to meet his thrusts, but his hands
wrapped around my hips, pinning me in place.

My sire used the full degree of his skill and control.
 His thrusts varied from fast to slow, from shallow to
deep.  I threw my head back and moaned deeply.  My
hands had a mind of their own as the moved to my
breasts, pinching and caressing the hard tips.

His assault of my body seemingly went on forever, but
eventually his movements quickened and lost their
practiced ease.  His hands brought my hips up to meet
him, crushing my clit against his pelvis.  Electric
sparks raced throughout my body.

"Come with me, Red," Spike whispered into my ear.
"Come with me."

My sire brought one of his hand up from my hips and
wrapped it around my head.  He pressed my lips to his
neck and groaned as I ran nibbling little kisses over
the column.

"Drink," he commanded.  His fangs sunk into my flesh
the same time mine did his.

The sensation of his teeth penetrating my throat
combined with the powerful taste of his blood sent me
over the edge.  Passion overtook my body --
controlling me, owning me.  I thrashed wildly as the
exquisite feelings raced through my being.  Vaguely, I
was aware of the evidence of my sire's own orgasm
spurting inside of me.

We had climaxed at the same time.

Eventually, as it always does, the euphoria of
orgasmic bliss left, leaving me a trembling mass.

"Are you okay, pet? Spike asked, pushing himself up.
He had allowed his weight to rest on top of me.

I nodded and pulled him back.  After just reuniting
with him, I wasn't willing to let him go yet.  I
buried my face into his neck and licked the blood off
of his wound.  To my surprise, there was barely more
than a slight tint to the skin where my fangs had
penetrated his flesh.

Spike must have sensed my surprise because he
commented, "Side effect of age, luv.  I heal fast."

"But even I don't heal that fast."

"Really?"  Reaching down, he grabbed one of my hands
and brought it to my neck.  He rubbed my fingers
across the area where he had bit.  "There's hardly
more than a scar there."

"I guess," I said musingly.  A smile formed on my
face.  "Maybe I should go bite my grandsire to test
out your little theory."

Spike growled, yellow light coming into his eyes.
"You will do well to keep your fangs well away from
the poof," he ordered.  "After all, wouldn't want to
come between him and the little demon now, would you?"

I laughed.  "Yes, sire.  Anything you say, sire."

He smiled and looked down at me.  "I love you,
Willow."

"I love you, too, Spike."

We settled back down and basked in the feel of each
other.  It felt so good to finally be back in his arms
that I completely relaxed for the first time in ages.
The only thing I was aware of as I drifted off to
sleep was a faint whisper.

"Anything I say, eh, luv?"

back