La Quintrala

Chapter Six

The next few days Buffy lived in a state of bliss. During the day she would go to class or spend time with Dawn while Spike slept. Sometimes he would join them and they would do something together like go to a matinee at the movies or hang around the mall to please Dawn. When Buffy went to see Giles to get an update or just to visit, Spike would occasionally accompany her. Whenever they were in public they were very careful to keep a certain distance between them. The bickering continued as usual but had they known what to look for, the Scoobies would have felt the undercurrent of affection running between the Slayer and the vampire. At night after patrolling together, they would go home and make love or if they were too tired, simply cuddled and talked until they fell asleep.

Friday evening Dawn left to spend the weekend in LA with her father. Spike and Buffy took advantage of having the house to themselves to have a romantic evening. They went patrolling but when they returned home eager to be alone, they did not pounce on each other as they usually did after a good round of slayings. Turning off the light and lighting a few candles, they took a long bath, softly caressing each other. Spike grabbed a sponge and started to lather her body. When he reached her breasts he covered them with soap then slowly uncovered them by squeezing the water from the sponge over them. Buffy slightly arched up, the tips of her breasts peaking out of the soapy water. The erotic sight of Buffy's pink nipples in the near darkness caused Spike to harden.

"Let's go to bed," he told her as he nuzzled her breasts.

"God, yes," she whispered in his ear.

Spike grinned at her eagerness. They dried each other quickly then moved to Buffy's bed.

As a precaution Spike locked the door to the room. Since the incident with Dawn they no longer took any chances even if they knew they were alone in the house. Turning around Spike marveled at the beautiful naked young woman reclining invitingly on the bed waiting for him.

"Are you going to stare all night?"

"Worried I'm not going to take care of you, pet?"

"Petrified," she sighed dramatically.

Spike smiled and walked slowly towards her. Buffy scooted back to the head of the bed as he climbed on the mattress and crawled gracefully up her body. He reminded her of a mountain lion on the prowl. The muscles on his back and arms contracted and stretched with each movement. Incredibly turned on Buffy reached for him to pull him up so she could kiss him, but Spike had other plans.

"Not just yet baby," he said shaking his head to release her hold.

Buffy pouted until he started suckling her breasts. Hissing with pleasure she grabbed his head letting him know how much she enjoyed what he was doing. No one had ever paid so much attention to them. The touch of his tongue was not too rough, just light enough to drive her crazy. She felt like she was going to explode from the pressure that was building inside her body. Spike alternated between sucking one nipple while he slowly ran his thumb over the other one. He made sure that his finger was always wet by having Buffy suck it in her mouth, then he slid it smoothly in slow patterns, creating a wonderful friction. After a while he would switch breasts and begin again in earnest.

"Tell me how you feel Buffy," he murmured as his tongue circled one peak.

"Like you're dialing 1-800 directly to Pleasure Center."

Spike smiled and continued his ministrations.

When Buffy began moaning non-stop and desperately tried to rub her pelvis against his, Spike lowered his left hand to her sex. Still suckling her breast, he introduced two fingers in her slick folds while his thumb caressed her clitoris. The movement of her hips told him what rhythm to adopt. He took her to the brink and stopped each time before completion. Frustration began to take hold of Buffy. Spike noticed her concentrated frown in trying to reach her release.

"Relax baby," he told her softly. "Don't rush this. We've got all night and I can do this for as long as it takes. I want you to come Buffy. I want you to come hard."

She nearly did because of his words. He felt her struggle with her decision before relaxing completely and relinquishing her control over to him.

"That's it, just let it happen luv. Don't work for it, let me take you there."

Spike felt her begin to tense up so he sped up the rhythm and increased the pressure while still suckling her breast until she was crashing and crying out his name. He continued stroking her through the tremors and only stopped when her overloaded senses changed the pleasure to pain. Her heart pounding Buffy reached down and pulled him up so she could finally kiss his mouth.

When he opened his eyes she saw his raw need for her. He was almost trembling with it. Seeing her so wild and wanton with him, because of him, had severely taxed his control. Smiling at how she affected him Buffy grabbed his manhood at the base and began to stroke him slowly, teasing him by licking her lips. Spike groaned loudly. Then the phone rang simultaneously as the doorbell rang twice. Someone then entered the premises, went straight up to Buffy's room and knocked on the door.

Neither lover was worried about an intruder, as the person had acted as per the protocol the gang had formulated for an emergency situation. Everyone had a key to Buffy's house for such an eventuality. Incredulous, Spike shook his head violently:

"No. No, no, no, no. This isn't bloody happening!" he whispered angrily.

"Hold on!" cried Buffy to whoever was at the door as she rolled to her side and grabbed the phone.

"What?" she answered moodily while Spike had settled on his back and was uttering obscenities into a pillow.

"Buffy, it's Willow. You have to come immediately to the Magic Box. I'm here with Giles, Tara and Anya. Xander should be over soon to pick you up."

On cue, the knocking resumed on the door.

"He's here," Buffy informed Willow. "Cut it out Xander! I'm on the phone with Willow so go downstairs and wait for me!" she yelled at the closed door. "Now Willow, are any of the Scoobies dead, dying, injured or captured?"

"Well, no."

"So calm down and tell me what's happening."

Spike knew by her tone that it was serious. Great. A raging hard on and no relief in sight. Only one place to go to take care of his problem. Angry, frustrated and resigned, he started to sit up to go to the bathroom when Buffy placed a firm hand on his chest and pushed him back down. Annoyed, he was about to protest when she circled his shaft with her fist and proceeded to stroke him with intent. With her eyes she pleaded that it was the best she could do under the circumstances. Spike growled quietly his approval and folded his arms behind his head, determined to enjoy this.

While Buffy listened to Willow she watched her lover's face contort with pleasure. He swallowed hard and she could see the corded veins in his neck as he neared his climax. She'd never seen anything more erotic and was aroused by it. When he started to moan quietly but continuously Buffy knew he was close. She increased the tempo until his eyes rolled back into his head and his mouth opened. Suddenly Spike grabbed his discarded T-shirt and shoved it in his mouth to stifle his shout. Spent, his whole body relaxed and he gave Buffy a lazy, grateful grin while he reached the nightstand for a tissue to wipe himself up.

"Okay Willow," said Buffy into the phone. "I'm up to speed and I'll be there before you know it. Spike? Uh, yeah. I'll get a hold of him."

"You already have, pet," he murmured mischievously.

Buffy swatted him playfully.

"Don't worry Willow. We'll figure this out. Bye."

As soon as she hung up Spike tackled her.

"Naughty girl. Getting your lover off while talking to Red. I loved it!"

"What am I going to do with you?" she asked with mock indignation.

"More of the same hopefully," he retorted.

"God I hope so," she sighed kissing him deeply.

Coming up for air she told him that they had to get going.

"How d'you want to go about it? You leave and I join you at the Magic Box fifteen minutes later?"

"Yeah. That sounds good. But how do I explain to Xander that I've reached you? You don't have a cellular."

Spike thought for a while.

"We could pretend that you gave me a beeper today and that's how you contacted me."

"You don't have a beeper."

"So I'll pretend that I lost it while fighting a demon or some other nasty. Or-"

"Or," she interrupted him. "We could just stop pretending altogether. I'm so tired of keeping my feelings under wrap."

"Buffy, I'll play this any way you want it. I'm still reeling from the fact that you love me. I don't care if you want to keep this secret for the rest of your life."

"I don't want you to be a secret. I'm not ashamed of you Spike. It's just that I didn't feel like putting up with anybody's crap."

"I know Buffy, but if you're doing it for the sake of my feelings, don't. I don't give a fuck about anybody's opinion but yours. What do you want?"

Buffy smiled at him and kissed his cheek.

"I want you. With me. All the time."

"Won't Xander be the happy camper," he deadpanned.

Ten minutes later they went down the stairs and headed straight for the front door. Xander practically tripped over himself when he saw them come down together, Spike's arm around her shoulders and hers around his waist.

"What the f-" he started to say.

"Don't want to hear it Xander," Buffy snapped. "Now, let's go."

When the Scooby Gang heard the doorbell chime all heads turned to see Buffy saunter in, her hand firmly clasped in Spike's. Behind them Xander shook his head in disbelief.

"Hi everybody. Everyone here? Great. Okay Giles, who is this chick and how do I kill her?"

That's my girl thought Spike proudly. They sat together at the table and turned to Giles. There was an awkward silence.

"Well?" Buffy demanded "Don't tell me I got out of my comfy bed so we could all stare at each other."

"It's just that-" began Giles.

"It's just that we're a little, no, a lot stunned by what is happening here!" cut in Xander. "What's wrong with you Buffy, are you insane or just under a fucking spell?" he added with malice.

Spike shot Xander a murderous warning glance. He had promised the Slayer that he would not speak to the boy at all but he definitely would get in his face, chip or no chip, if he continued to badger her.

"Back off Xander. I'm in no mood for your little dart show." Buffy then turned to Giles "Spike is my boyfriend. I love him." Then she addressed the entire group. "It's not a spell and none of you are dreaming. If you have a problem with it, too bad. Get over it and move on. My private life is just that -private. Is there something you'd like to add?"

No one missed the adoring glance the vampire gave the Slayer. Properly chastised they all shook their heads.

"Excellent. And by the way, we're changing the protocol for an emergency situation. I don't want a repeat of today," declared Buffy.

"It was good enough when we thought it up," muttered Xander.

"I was single then and that's the end of this conversation," she said firmly. "Giles? What do you have for us?"

Stammering a little at first trying to ignore this new development between Spike and Buffy, Giles told them that the latest victim was a policeman who also happened to be the mayor's son-in-law. Needless to say, the situation had worsened and the police were now on the warpath which if anything complicated matters.

"I think we must get one of her slaves to talk," the Watcher concluded.

"I tried that," Buffy protested, "but none of them will talk."

"We need one live," observed Xander.

"Xander is right," agreed the Watcher, "Jorge Parra, my South American contact, told me that the men were usually picked up in popular clubs by slaves of La Quintrala then taken to her. Let's head out to the Bronze, it would be the best place in town for La Quintrala's boys to find someone."

"Let's go then," said Buffy.

The Scoobies shuffled out of the Magic Box and headed for the Bronze. Upon entering the club they scanned the crowd but saw nothing unusual and Buffy and Spike could not detect any vampires or demons. Giles insisted that they stay a little while longer. They found a table and Xander went to get everyone something to drink.

There weren't enough chairs to go around so Willow sat in Tara's lap and Buffy in Spike's. The next song that started to play was a favorite of Buffy's. It was loud and catchy. She was bopping so happily to the beat that Spike just had to ask if she wanted to dance. Buffy squealed and jumping off his lap led him to the dance floor. They danced with enthusiasm the next set then returned to their table.

All of Buffy's friends stared at them. Some with wonder others with curiosity and others still with open hostility. For the first time Buffy felt uncomfortable being with Spike. Her malaise was short-lived however as she sensed several vampires enter the premises. She looked at Spike who nodded that he too had felt them. Buffy motioned to the gang that they had found what they were looking for. Leading the way, they zeroed in on the group.

There were five vampires and two demons in human disguise. For the most part they were an unremarkable lot save for one who sat in the corner quietly assessing the situation. He was dressed all in black that almost matched his dark brown hair and eyes. He was impeccably groomed; his hair cut in a style reminiscent of the nineteen forties. He exuded class and authority but without the attitude.

"Okay boys," Buffy said. "Let's take this outside."

"Run along little girl," jeered one of them, "you're way out of your league."

"Hey!" interjected Xander. "That's the Slayer you're talking to. Have a little respect."

"The Slayer," murmured the pensive one.

Spike scowled. This one was different. Definitely vampire but there was something about him.

"Great," said another one as he rose from the table. "Always wanted to have myself a Slayer. Guess today is my lucky day."

"Like the lady said Dylan, take it outside," reminded the vampire in the corner.

"But this won't take but two seconds!" Dylan protested.

"I said outside," the other stated raising his voice with barely a hint of violence.

Dylan cowered and did as he was told. Buffy shot Spike a look of wonder. He shrugged, equally baffled.

In a very civil manner the creatures of darkness and the Slayer and her group left the Bronze and faced off in the alley.

"Before we get this show on the road, I have to ask. Does the name La," Buffy faltered unable to remember the name.

"La Quintrala," supplied Giles.

"Right. What he said. Ring any bells?" she asked all around.

Silence greeted her query.

"Okay," she sighed, "the hard way it is."

She threw the first punch and the battle was on.

Anya and Xander worked in tandem, while he pinned one down, Anya would do the staking. Willow and Tara using their wiccan power would stun their adversaries throwing them backwards making it easier for the others to take them out. Giles took out his crossbow from his long coat and used it with deadly efficiency. Buffy made quick work of her opponent then went to aid the others. Spike had taken on the leader and knew within a few blows that as sure as his opponent couldn't defeat him, Spike couldn't best him either. They were both of the same height and roughly the same build. He was swift and extremely strong. Never once did he morph into gameface. He was in complete control of his demon.

After four of the vampires had been dusted and the two demons killed, Giles reminded the others that they needed Spike's opponent alive. As if he had heard, Spike's rival suddenly stopped fighting.

"I'm impressed," he said looking around him.

Turning toward Spike he introduced himself:

"I am known as Neruda," he said with a slight bow of the head.

"The Slayer you've met," Spike presented the others taking his cue from the stranger. "This is her Watcher, Rupert Giles; the witches Tara and Willow; Xander and his fiancée Anya; I am Spike."

"A Slayer with friends. Unusual," observed Neruda.

"Not that this isn't fascinating but can we get on with what we want to know? `Cause if not, I have a stake all ready for you."

Neruda smiled patiently.

"Feisty too. You must have your hands full with her" he said to Spike who was the only one not surprised that Neruda had guessed correctly about his relationship with the Slayer.

Turning to Buffy Neruda went on:

"You are also young," he said his tone harder, "and still naïve in some ways. The only reason all my men are dead is because that's what I wanted."

"What do you mean?" asked Buffy bewildered and a little miffed that he was dismissing her capabilities.

"Oh. Now I have vexed you. How clumsy of me. What I meant to say is that I've been wanting to talk with someone but I couldn't with all these witnesses. This is why I let the events unfold as they did."

The Scoobies exchanged quizzical glances. Who was this individual?

"I have much to tell and only one condition," he said. "I talk solely to the vampire."

Buffy nodded. She looked at Spike to see if there was any inconvenience on his part. Spike winked at her then walked over to Neruda's side.

"Let's you and I step out for a while. D'you fancy a beer?"

"I'm more partial to wine but I haven't had beer in a long time. Lead the way."

The two nocturnal creatures walked away leaving the Slayer and the Scoobies behind. Buffy knew that her friends were dying to grill her about her relationship with Spike but she was in no mood to talk, even less to explain.

"Well, we've accomplished what we set out to do. I'm bushed, I'll see you guys tomorrow."

She was gone before anyone had a chance to say one word.

"Isn't anybody going to say anything about what's going on between Buffy and Spike?" said Xander moodily.

The vampires walked side by side, strangely comfortable with each other.

"So," began Neruda "just how long have you and that young lady been an item?"

"You're so bloody polite for a vampire," remarked Spike with a laugh.

"I used to be a country gentleman," explained his companion.

"Is Neruda your real name?"

"No. I was born Darío Carrera Sancho but my favorite poet is Pablo Neruda and since I often recite his poems well, someone started calling me "Neruda" and the nickname stuck. What about you?"

Spike laughed and told him how he got his from torturing his victims with railroad spikes. Neruda appraised him then said:

"Order of Aurelius?"

"How did you know?" wondered Spike.

"There's a quality about you and that bloodline is very distinctive."

Spike realized yet again that this was no ordinary vampire.

"Are you hungry? I know a place where we can get fresh blood. It's pig's blood, not human, but it's better than nothing. I can't stop you from feeding on humans but I can't allow you to do it in my presence."

"I wouldn't know. I don't eat humans."

"Come again?" Spike asked clearly stunned.

"I don't feed on humans," repeated Neruda visibly amused.

"By choice or because you can't?"

"By choice."

"So what's you red elixir of choice then?"

"Cow's blood."

"Cows?" asked Spike incredulous.

"If you find a herd, you can feed on many a little at a time. The animals are mildly inconvenienced and the humans are none the wiser," offered Neruda.

"Like a parasite."

"Perhaps," chuckled Neruda, "but I always have fresh and available food. Most importantly, I'm not hunted."

"You must not live in the city I take it?" inquired Spike as he opened the door to Willy's.

"No. I always stick to the countryside."

"How do you manage here? Not too many cows around."

They sat at a table and Spike signaled for two beers.

"La Quintrala sees to my needs," said Neruda.

"I see."

"I don't think you do."

Spike mulled this over as they were handed their drinks. He decided to change tactics.

"How long have you been around?" he asked.

"Four hundred and thirty nine years in September."

Spike whistled.

"I suddenly feel like a puppy with my measly one hundred and forty six."

"Weche!" laughed Neruda. "On the contrary, it's a credit to you that you've made it this far intact with your reputation. I, on the other hand, have none. I have lived my life quietly in the Chilean countryside. Never challenged, never defeated."

"I get the feeling that it would be unwise for anyone to challenge you. I'm curious though, how do you survive? I mean you must have some kind of income if you don't kill humans."

"As it turns out, certain people seem to feel that I have a way with the written word and that my poetry has some flair. I get requests by letter or tape sent to a postal box to help writers, poets and singers when they are out of inspiration. I get paid handsomely for what comes naturally to me. I am well known by name but few have ever seen me. I like it that way. A sort of anonymous fame. Oh, and by the way, just because I don't feed on humans, doesn't mean I don't kill them."

"In self-defense?"

"Sometimes. But I mostly have intervened when the law was useless to stop a serial killer or rapist."

"Why bother?"

"Life is hard enough as it is for humans. They should only have to fear creatures like us, not their own. Besides, I get to relieve my thirst for violence."

"I can relate to that but why won't you drink from these criminals?"

"Blood most foul," grimaced the older vampire.

"Any other reason would make you kill a human?" Spike fished.

"Only one other. Should anyone try to harm La Quintrala I would be compelled to stop them."

"With terminal force?"

"If need be. I like you Spike, but tell your human friends that as much as I understand that they must stop her, I will not allow her to be hurt."

"Why such devotion? This might get you killed."

"I love her. I know that what she does is wrong but what she did out of a capricious and rebellious soul as a human, is now her nature as a demon."

"How on earth did you two meet in the first place?" wondered Spike.

Neruda sighed and shook his head. "It's not very romantic I'm afraid. I saw her kill a man and I helped her dispose of the body."

"I dunno, as a vampire, that strikes me as quite romantic." Spike deadpanned.

Neruda scowled at him at first then laughed till there were tears in his eyes.

"Ay, cabro!" he exclaimed wiping his eyes. "Thank you for that. I haven't laughed this much in decades."

Spike smiled and shook his head.

"Doesn't it bother you to share her with all these men?" asked Spike staring at his mug of beer.

"I have never possessed her that way. So I do not share. But I am sole master of her heart. And so again, I do not share."

"So let me get this straight. She and you never…"

"No."

"So, what? No sex? Ever?"

Neruda burst out laughing at Spike's utter disbelief.

"Not when I'm with her. But when she's not around I'm very game."

"And how long has she been back?"

"Four months."

"Climbing the walls yet?" Spike teased.

"Strangely no. I manage to sublimate it, otherwise there would be a lot more dead bodies littering our trip north. Mind you, when she goes back to her dimension and I recover from my heartache, I think I'll go on a fucking spree."

Spike coughed and spilled some beer at his unexpected choice of words.

"Sorry," he said. "I just wasn't expecting you to say that at all."

Neruda threw his head back laughing. "I'm not a saint Spike."

"Oh, but you are. Knowing that Buffy wants me and not do anything about it, I think I'd rather stake myself."

"Yes, but then again, our women's natures are very different, no? The Slayer is true to you but La Quintrala can't be to me. At least not physically, so she gives me what I prize above all else, her heart and eternal devotion. That's why I can stand it."

"I guess that's one way to look at it," philosophized Spike.

"I don't expect you to understand," sighed Neruda.

"But I do mate, I do. I couldn't do it though. Hell, anybody inasmuch looked at the Slayer the wrong way and I'd tear them from limb to limb."

"I have seen your woman. Had I two hundred years less and not be presently in love, you and I might have words."

"Wouldn't make a bit of difference friend. I would still be the one," Spike retorted with more confidence than he really felt.

"Excellent. It takes some people all their lives to understand this and they waste precious time doubting themselves and their loved ones."

Spike shook his head chuckling. "You're quite the philosopher."

"It would be quite a sad state of affairs if after having lived all this time I hadn't gained some insight into this wonderfully chaotic world. I don't understand why our kind is so intent to send all this to hell. After all, with a little patience, humans will do this all on their own."

"But you like this world?"

"Oh, enormously. Otherwise I would have met the sunrise a long time ago."

"I like it too. What do you miss the most?"

"Two things really. The feel of the sun on my skin and going swimming in the ocean in daytime."

"You can still go at night," suggested Spike.

"Not the same. You're originally from England, yes?"

"Born and raised in London," the younger vampire confirmed.

"I was born in the desert and raised by the seashore and I loved both extremes then as I do now. Whenever I could, I'd go swimming, never dreamed it would end so soon."

"How old were you when you were turned?"

"Seventeen."

"You look older. Like your mid-twenties."

"Times were rougher. People matured faster, they also died younger."

"Why are you so different?"

Neruda set down his half empty mug carefully.

"Something happened that night during my turning," he began. "Everything was different. He was different. I was in the oasis of San Pedro de Atacama where I was born, overseeing a small business matter for my father. Because there was a full moon the night was bathed in this ethereal shade of purple-blue tones. It's a magical time when it happens. You really should take your woman there, there is nothing quite like it."

He took a long sip of beer then went on:

"Anyway, that's why I was walking around instead of being in bed asleep. I was leaving La Plaza Mayor when I saw him. He looked desperate and depressed. I thought I'd take him home and give him something to eat but as soon as I approached him he turned his face away and begged me to run, that he wouldn't be able to control it for much longer. I just thought that he was delirious with hunger so I paid no heed to his warning. As I got nearer I realized that he was a mestizo and I thought he was afraid I was going to give him a hard time. To ease his mind I asked him to which noble tribe he belonged. He smiled a little at that and told me his mother's people were Mapuche. He entreated me once more to turn back. I of course ignored this and grabbed his shoulder to steady him. That's when his face changed into what I assumed at the time to be Satan himself."

Spike chuckled at this.

"I remember crossing myself and surrendering my soul to God before he grabbed me roughly by the neck. His hideous face was inches from mine. It changed back to its human form for a few fleeting moments and then he said, "I'm sorry". He changed again and the last thing I saw were his sharp fangs and the last thing I heard was a faint chanting coming from behind him. When I awoke I found myself in some sort of stable. He just sat there looking at me with tenderness and dread. Tenderness because I was the first person he had ever sired and dread because of what he was about to ask me. I was starving for blood and my first instinct was to get out and grab the first human and drain him but his hand detained me and sternly he told me to get a hold of myself and think about what I was about to do. Killing humans was wrong and drinking from animals would do just as well. Fighting the haze of the bloodlust I realized he was right. My demon you see is weak and partial to humans as was his. Anyway, my Sire brought me several horses and I was told to drink from each so as not to drain one. Satiated I sat back down and asked the creature: "What are you and what am I?" He sat next to me and proceeded to tell me his tale and how he came to be a vampire. It was the usual story with an unusual twist for after he was turned he had returned to his mother's people who upon witnessing his change had called La Machi who threw a spell on him and all his line to enable them to discern good from evil."

"A soul?"

"No. An innate knowledge of right or wrong."

"Like a soul then," reasoned Spike.

"Partially, because a soul gives you compassion, empathy, regrets and remorse and a host of other emotions. I don't have those feelings. When I kill an evil man I don't feel for his victims, I just know that what was done to them is wrong."

"Then how was your Sire able to turn you? That is most certainly wrong," protested Spike.

"The spell is one of knowledge," explained Neruda, "it's not binding in the sense that if I choose to be evil, nothing will stop me. My Sire was in quite a predicament when he chanced upon me. His horse had broken its leg and he had to kill it. Now he was stuck in San Pedro de Atacama with no way to return to his hideout. He had fed off his dead horse and then hidden in the church for a few days, then other places but animals were scarce then as they are now in the oasis and his hunger was unbearable. When I found him he was at the end of his rope physically and mentally. He was famished and tired of his existence. He said that with one look at me he knew he had found his solution from both problems. You must understand that he never would have done this had he not been out of options. Once he had finished to tell me his tale and all I needed to know about my situation he handed me a stake. He looked me straight in the eyes and said, "Do the right thing." Without hesitation I plunged it in his heart."

Spike winced at the words.

"I told you, I don't feel compassion. He wanted to die, I obliged."

"But he was your Sire-"

"It's what he wanted," Neruda cut him off. "It was my duty to do as he asked. The funny thing is I never knew his name…" he finished lost in thought.

"What about your family?"

"They were in Antofagasta. I suppose they assumed I was dead when they had no news from me and I didn't try to contact them. Better that way."

"You mentioned some chanting when you were being turned, what was it?'

"Magical echoes of the spell transferring from my Sire to me."

"And all this time you've kept to yourself?"

"Mostly though I did go to the valley of Maipo to find my Sire's people and tell them what had happened to him. They were saddened by his passing but proud that he chose an honourable death."

"Didn't you learn his name then?"

"No because they told me that that person was long gone and we were not to speak of him. They had given what he had become a nickname and it became mine, "La Criatura", the creature. Every now and then I visit them. I have always found a safe haven with them. Because they have a strong oral tradition, the story gets transmitted from generation to generation so that I never have to explain who and what I am."

"Practical."

Neruda nodded and ordered two more beers.

"Do you like football?" Spike asked trying to lighten the mood. The other vampire smiled genuinely.

"Love it. You must be a Manchester United man, no?"

"I am," Spike confessed. "You?"

"Great team but I have soft spot for Real Madrid."

"I never would have guessed," quipped Spike.

There was a pause then Spike became serious again.

"Why don't you step away from this bad business? We won't stop until she is dead."

"Before that happens I will be dust," Neruda replied calmly.

"Won't change your mind?"

"Would you turn your back on the Slayer even if she had gone over to the darkness?"

"No."

"Then you know my mind," the older vampire concluded.

Changing the topic the two vampires talked for a long time sipping their beers and swapping stories of their past finding that they decidedly got on very well.

Later that night, a pensive Spike made his way back to Buffy's house. Between the Slayer bringing out into the open her relationship with him to her friends and their subsequent meeting with Neruda, it had certainly been an eventful night. His talk with the Hispanic vampire had put certain things in perspective and he wanted Buffy's opinion on one topic in particular though he feared even asking because of the possible answer. The one he didn't want to hear. Spike was enamoured of the thought of finding the love of his life, realizing it and living it. He had thought that Drusilla was that love but recent events had proved him wrong. Neruda and La Quintrala had known it and lived it. In his heart, Spike knew that Buffy was the one but he wondered if she felt the same way. That she loved him he was certain, but was he sole master of her heart? That remained a mystery. And on a subconscious level, it bothered him.

Buffy was sleeping when Spike quietly slipped into bed. He enjoyed watching her breathe and listening to the peaceful rhythm of her heart. His contemplation of her was soon disturbed however by her wandering hands under the bed sheet. Spike looked at her with a feral smile, pinning her under him as a wave of lust washed over him.

"I can't believe you told your friends about us," he mumbled kissing her senseless.

"I can't believe I didn't tell them sooner," she said between sighs.

"No regrets?"

"No regrets."

"Good."

They melted in each other's arms and spoke no more.

Once Buffy was able to catch her breath she turned on her side facing her lover.

"Is something wrong?" she asked softly.

"Why? Was it not good?" he asked worriedly.

"Were you not here just a few moments ago when I nearly woke up the whole neighborhood?"

Spike smiled smugly.

"What I mean is you were making love as if one of us wasn't going to survive tomorrow."

Spike propped his head on his fist.

"I'm not worried about that but talking with Neruda has made me think about a few things."

"Such as?"

"Well for starters, I know I don't say it often enough but I love you Buffy-"

"I know that silly-"

"Let me finish. I love you. You need to always remember this: whatever happens today or tomorrow, even if we've had the fight of the century, I love you. However ugly things get, my feelings for you do not change."

"Why are you talking this way Spike?"

"I couldn't bear it luv if you died thinking that I don't love you to distraction. Do you understand?"

"You love me to distraction?"

"You are missing the point," he said irritated.

"Just teasing. Look I know you love me. You have a great capacity to love Spike. I mean you and Drusilla-"

"That wasn't the same."

"You're saying you didn't love her?"

"I loved Dru deeply and devotedly but she was never completely mine. The only reason we lasted as long as we did was because Angelus didn't return sooner. That bastard changed everything and made a breach in my feelings for Dru. Nothing that made me reconsider being with her mind you. I was so pathetically blind and it's not as if she and Angelus tried to spare my feelings. They flaunted their rekindled union in my face. But Dru, sweet, mad Dru, she didn't understand why she couldn't have both of us. Instead of realizing then and there that Dru could leave me so easily I figured that if I could just get rid of Angelus all my problems would be solved. And it did for a time but while I refused to acknowledge Dru's betrayal and clung to the illusion of our love, I somehow failed to realize that I was no longer solely focused on her. Dru was wise to me though and she dropped that little bomb about my unresolved issues with you. I thought she was off her rocker for thinking like that but as usual, when it comes to these matters, she was dead on. You're my third love Buffy. And the way I look at it I went from nothing to everything. Cecily wouldn't even look at me, Dru loved me but with so many strings attached, I admit, I was exhausted at the end and now here you are. Beautiful, strong, aggravating, smart, stubborn, willful, brave, fearless, playful, loving Buffy. Without a doubt, the happiest I've ever been and it's all because of you and that, has never happened to me before."

Buffy absorbed all he said first with astonishment then joy. She moved to lie on top of him and kissed his chest.

"I hadn't thought about it before but you're my third love too, Spike," she revealed to him. "And it's the first time I have ever felt so free. With you I can be myself. I don't have to hide anything, pretend being something I'm not and enjoy my life as is for however long I have. Without a doubt, the happiest I've ever been."

Spike beamed at her.

"I just wish mom were here," she added as an afterthought.

"Don't think she'd be too thrilled with your choice of beaux," remarked Spike.

"She would have warmed up to you eventually, you know she had a soft spot for you?"

"Yeah, I do. Wonderful lady your mum was."

Buffy snuggled in his arms feeling suddenly blue.

"I miss her."

"I know, pet."

Buffy burrowed even deeper, losing herself in Spike's embrace as she cried softly.

"I've got you Slayer, I've got you," he whispered as he rocked her gently.

Chapter Seven

It was the little things that convinced Giles that William the Bloody and Buffy the Vampire Slayer were truly in love. More than any explanation that Buffy could offer, it was the way they looked at one another when they thought nobody was watching, the constant touching and the tenderness inherent in every touch, be it when she absent mindedly ran her fingers gently through his hair while they spoke softly, or when he tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear. Giles also noticed how they spoke of each other when the other was absent. Most telling of all however was that they made each other laugh. A lot. And that was something that Giles found priceless. For that alone Spike had snatched a small morsel of Giles' affection. There was of course also that whole sexual element to their relationship that Giles simply ignored. He knew it was going on but like most fathers preferred not to think about it. All these things combined informed the Watcher that his charge had found the genuine article in a vampire. That definitely was not in the Slayer Handbook.

"Sod the Handbook," muttered Giles. "Buffy is writing her own."

One new aspect that Giles had not anticipated was how the level of trust between Buffy and Spike would affect his chip. Matters came to a head one late afternoon during Buffy's training. Giles kept half an eye on them while he continued his research with the Scoobies except Anya who had gone off to talk over some details with the caterer for the wedding. Giles would never admit it to anyone but he loved to watch Buffy and Spike spar. They were agile, graceful, precise fighters. Because he couldn't really hit back, Spike relied on his resourcefulness. Using her own strength against her, Spike was able to defend himself without hurting Buffy at all. If she pushed, he pulled. When she pulled, he pushed. Using the momentum of her blows he simply redirected it to his advantage. Invariable they landed on the ground, his body breaking her fall. Though they took Buffy's training seriously, they couldn't resist stealing a few kisses when Giles wasn't looking. It was after one such exchange that Buffy had an epiphany:

"Hit me Spike."

"Come again?"

"You heard me. Hit me."

"No," he said annoyed with her.

"C'mon Spike. If what I think is true then your chip won't activate at all."

"What are you going on about woman?"

Spike was angry. The one subject that still made him sore was the infamous chip. At Spike's angry tone Giles' attention went on full Watcher mode while the others merely lifted their heads from their books in wonder.

"What's going on?" he asked both of them going into the Training Room followed by a curious Xander.

"She's gone daft, she has," muttered Spike walking away.

"Hey!" exclaimed Buffy indignantly.

Turning to Giles she explained her theory. The Watcher mulled it over while he wiped his glasses. His main concern of course was that Spike would bite Buffy. That however entailed an evil intent while what Buffy proposed was that now that Spike did not want to hurt her, the chip would not activate. It was a little confusing and definitely a stretch of the imagination but it was worth a try. If it worked, Buffy would gain tremendously in no-holds-barred fighting with Spike.

And it worked. It took a lot of coaxing, reassurance and finally a little goading for Spike to throw the first punch but when he realized that there was no pain he quickly got into it. Buffy smiled, it was almost like old times. Spike was thinking along the same lines as he deftly blocked all her blows.

"I can't even use my best lines anymore. What am I supposed to say now? Just wait till I get you alone? Very threatening."

"You think you could be a threat even if I let you?" Buffy taunted.

"That's it. You're going down Slayer."

"God, if I have to hear any more of this kind of lovey-dovey shit from the dead guy I'm going to gag," declared Xander grimacing.

Buffy's face registered hurt at his words and Spike's fury but he let it go in favor of distracting her by lunging at her. She knew what he was doing and smiled at him as she bounced back on her feet. Giles however was not so easily pacified.

"Xander, may I have a private word with you?"

The young man nodded angrily following Giles out of the shop into the alley.

Once they were out of earshot Giles exploded:

"You are going to change your attitude toward Buffy starting immediately!"

"It's not Buffy I have a problem with," Xander defended himself. "Well maybe a little," he amended, "but it's him. Deadboy junior."

"The result is the same. You carve into him, you're carving into her."

"But it's wrong on so many levels, and you know it!" cried Xander exasperated.

"Xander, I want you to listen to me very carefully. Buffy is like a daughter to me. I have seen her go to hell and back several times, not to mention the whole death business, and she isn't twenty-two yet. No matter how much we stand by her we will never know or feel what it is being the Slayer and laying your life down everyday of your life. I'm not fond of Spike but she has chosen him. She's in love with him and he clearly worships the ground she walks on. I for one believe that Buffy deserves nothing less and I intend to let her enjoy her happiness."

"Am I the only one who hasn't got blinders on?" retorted the young man. "He's a member of the living dead. Buffy is alive. He's evil, she isn't. You see the pattern here?"

"No matter how much it irks you, Spike is the only who has measured up. I don't know what sort of psychological hang-up has got you in knots but you'd better work through it or suppress it. I don't care either way, just do it!"

The Watcher stomped out leaving Xander stunned and livid at the dress down.

The afternoon soon turned into evening and all agreed to take a few hours break from the research. Tara suggested they walk and have a slice of pizza somewhere. Everyone agreed save for Giles who preferred to go home for a bite. Shortly after the Watcher left with a few books under his arm. The Scoobies were eager for the fresh air and the distraction. Buffy and Spike thought of joining the others but Xander muttered something unpleasant and Buffy immediately changed her mind and went home instead, followed by a livid vampire.

"Keep it up Harris, just keep this up," he snarled as he went by Xander on his way out.

"I'm shaking Billy!" he shouted to Spike's back.

Tara bit her lower lip, uncomfortable with the sudden tension. Willow was red with indignation.

"Xander!" she called harshly.

"Now what?" he said still annoyed about Spike.

One look at Willow and he knew she was angry.

"Sorry. What is it Will?"

"Give Buffy a break and get off Spike's back."

"Not you too!" whined Xander.

"I'm not the first?"

"Get in line."

"Well good. Maybe you'll listen to one of us."

"Have you forgotten that Evil Dead tried to kill us at one point?"

"Yeah, but he didn't. Besides, he's tried to kill Buffy zillions of times and she's forgiven him."

"That's because he's got her under some kind of demonic-"

"Xander, I've had just about enough. Grow up! Buffy is an adult. She neither needs nor wants your unsolicited advice."

"Is it "Bash Xander" day and everybody got a memo but me?" he cried exasperated.

"Xander get a grip and look at the big picture. Buffy is happy. A happy Buffy is a strong Slayer and a strong Slayer makes it safer for all of us and the people we love. I can't see one negative thing about this."

"The negative here would be Spike."

"While you're so worried that Spike will totally corrupt Buffy, did it ever occur to you that she could be having a positive effect on Spike, or is she too weak in your eyes?"

Xander had no retort for that. Willow smiled sadly.

"Do some hard thinking Xander. Buffy needs you on her side. When you're like this, you're what's negative."

Having spoken her peace, Willow grabbed Tara's hand and walked away leaving behind a perplexed and slightly humiliated young man.

Willow and Tara sat at the corner pizza joint after having wandered about for half an hour.

"That didn't go too well," said Tara thoughtfully as she took a bite of her slice of pizza.

"I was a little rough on Xander," conceded Willow with a sigh, "but he just made me so mad."

"Oh, no sweetie. I didn't mean you, I meant the gang's reaction to Spike being Buffy's boyfriend."

"I know, the love there was palpable," she said sarcastically. "It probably confirmed all the fears she had in telling us about him. When I told Buffy about you, she was surprised, but made the effort. And the others did too. But do you know who made me feel most comfortable?"

"Spike?"

"Spike."

"Being a vampire, I guess nothing phases him."

Willow shrugged. "The point is we could have reciprocated."

"You're right but in all fairness, he was a killer."

"That's just it Tara, was a killer. Not anymore. He's been helping us for how long now? And what about Buffy? Hey, so glad you're back, what the hell are you doing with Spike?" Willow shook her head dejectedly. "Very supportive."

Tara caressed Willow's face tenderly. "There must be something we can do to smooth things over."

"I have an idea," beamed Willow.

"I knew you would, sweetheart."

Tara leaned in affectionately and nuzzled her girlfriend's neck.

As soon as Xander got back home, Anya jumped in his arms even though hers were laden with different samples of cloth materials for the bridesmaids' dresses. They kissed and stumbled around a little. No matter how his day had gone, Xander always could look forward to Anya's welcoming embrace. It was something he never got tired of and it never failed to surprise him how genuinely happy she was to see him. She was a treasure and he knew it.

"What's wrong?" she asked immediately sensing that something was amiss.

"Everybody got on my case today," he explained.

Anya released the breath she was holding as well as the cloth samples.

"Oh thank God. For a minute I thought you were going to say that something happened to our money."

"Equally important," he said patiently, "but could we focus on me?"

"Oh, poor baby," she crooned, "what happened?"

"Well first Giles let me have it because I'm not on board the Spike/Buffy love boat. Actually told me to cut Spike some slack. Can you believe that? He's the evil blood-sucking undead and I have to play nice with him? I don't get that. In fact, none of them should. Buffy and Spike, it's just wrong."

"What else?" she prodded gently.

"Then it was Willow's turn to go bizarro on me. Told me to grow up, that Buffy knew what she was doing and that a real friend would support her and…actually, that does make sense," he admitted grumbling.

Anya led him to the sofa where they sat down.

"You know," he continued "In my mind I get it, I just can't get past it. Why is that?"

She told him to lie down and put his head in her lap. Softly her fingers played in his hair to soothe him.

"It could be Xander that although your heart is in order, something hasn't been cleared to your satisfaction in your mind. It's what's making you kick at this with such passion."

Xander turned his head to look at her.

"You make it sound," he began carefully, "like I'm not over Buffy."

"I know you are. Believe me, if you weren't, you wouldn't be getting any orgasms from me."

"Point taken," he said with a smile, "but what am I not getting then, in this insane farce that is the Slayer in love again with a vampire?"

"I can't help you there, baby. You're an intelligent man, you'll figure it out."

"How d'you get so wise about these things?"

"Many, many years observing humans."

"What else have you learned?"

"That participating is better than observing," she laughed as she kissed him deeply. Xander responded with enthusiasm and they rolled off giggling from the sofa to the floor littered with bridal magazines.

In the Summers' household, Spike had managed to change Buffy's mood by watching with her a "chick-flick" and indulging her craving for chocolate. Looking at her safely and contentedly wrapped in his arms, he wondered if there was anything he wouldn't do for this girl. She had him at her mercy and didn't even know it. Maybe that was exactly why she inspired such devotion in him.

Later that night Buffy and Spike lay sleeping, his body curled around hers. All of a sudden Spike's body began to make jerky movements that woke Buffy. Startled at first she turned on the lamp on her nightstand and saw that Spike was deeply immersed in his dream. He became more agitated, a frown creased his brow and he started to mumble incoherently.

"Spike, baby, wake up," she said as she shook him lightly.

A note of terror crept in Spike's mutterings and his body became tenser. Alarmed, Buffy shook him harder to no avail when Spike suddenly sat up and cried "No!" at the top of his lungs. Dawn came running to the door.

"Buffy? Is everything alright?"

"It's okay Dawn, Spike had a nightmare. Don't worry. Go back to bed."

"'Kay."

Spike's eyes looked wildly about him until they fell on Buffy.

"You're alive, you're here," he said with relief.

"You just had a bad dream," she explained caressing the back of his neck.

Spike shook his head.

"Not a nightmare, just the past."

"You mean what happened with Glory?" she guessed.

There was an awkward pause. That subject had never been broached by either one of them.

"I don't want to talk about that," they both said.

Surprised they stared at each other. They remained silent for a few moments and Buffy finally relented.

"I don't want to talk about it because I just can't quite deal with all that. I mean, I died, Spike. My body was buried. Then Poof! I'm back. I just don't know how to feel about that. What's your excuse?"

Spike stared straight ahead of him and began to speak wistfully:

"When I realized what you had done to save Dawn, I was so proud of you Buffy, so proud. I've been witness to acts of great evil, some of them made by me, but never had I been associated remotely to something as pure and selfless as what you did. It humbled me and it destroyed me."

He ran his hand over his face.

"The whole time you were dead," he continued, his voice laden with emotion, "were the blackest days of my existence. Nothing compares to the abyss of despair and anguish in which I sank. I expected just about everybody to die that day, except you. It wasn't meant to be you. It was never supposed to be you."

A pregnant pause followed his words.

"Spike, why did you stay away after I was returned?" Buffy asked finally.

"There was guilt because I failed you," he answered honestly. "Also, I just couldn't wrap my mind around your being alive again. It hurt too much to be next to you and not be able to touch you the way I needed to."

"But you hugged me the first time you saw me."

"I didn't think you would begrudge me that one hug."

"I didn't. I needed it. Still do."

"I was so incredibly grateful to have you back Buffy, I just," he faltered, "I just didn't know what to do. I figured I'd let you decide what you wanted, what you expected from me. Since you said nothing, did nothing, I understood that we were back to where we were before the showdown with the Hellbitch. I have to say that I expected that. So I stayed in the shadows, and my love, anger and frustration grew. I wanted to leave, but couldn't bring myself to do it. Near or far, I swore to myself I'd watch your back and the Nibblet's."

Buffy sighed deeply. "I was waiting for you to do something," she admitted, "to stir up trouble, declare your undying love, try to kick my ass. Something. Anything. It's always been like that with us."

"You never died before," he reminded her softly.

"Well, technically yes."

"Not before my eyes," he muttered with pain in his voice.

Unexpectedly Spike's body was suddenly wracked with sobs. He held his head in his hands as all the pent-up sorrow and relief washed over him. Blindly he reached for her and buried his head in her stomach. Buffy felt the wetness of his tears on her bare skin. Overwhelmed, she tried to soothe him by hugging him tightly and kissing the top of his head, his ears, and his neck. At first he let her comfort him passively. When she started kissing him, the restraint behind which he had kept all his feelings of grief, snapped. Clasping firmly her neck, he locked his mouth on hers. He kissed and touched her in an urgent and desperate manner. Buffy understood that this wasn't about pleasure but a need for him to confirm the reality of her, to celebrate her being alive, to close inner wounds that had never healed properly.

She let him go through all the motions all the while whispering how much she loved and needed him. After he was spent, he tried to roll off her so as not to crush her, but Buffy held him in a vise-like grip.

"I'm sorry, so sorry baby, I didn't wait for you," he said pained.

"This wasn't about that. This was for you. Just rest now. I've got you Spike and I'm not going anywhere."

Spike nodded in the hollow of her neck and with Buffy lightly tracing patterns on his back, he fell sound asleep.