Chapter 10: Putting It Back Together

The moment before she'd opened the door Buffy had thought she couldn't possibly be angrier. She was wrong.

The first thing she saw as she entered Spike's apartment, was a naked Spike tied to the bed with one leg bent. Between his legs was the head of a blond who was wearing only pink leather knee high boots.

Just as her mind wrapped around the first image, the blond lifted her head. It was Harmony. A vamped out Harmony with her face covered in blood.

That was when the rest of the scene snapped into place. Blood was running down Spike's arms from the wounds where his hands had been cut off. In fact his whole body was covered with blood. He was even paler than normal. Buffy hadn't seen him that pale since he had fist come to the Scoobies half starved after the Initiative had chipped him. His face was turned toward her, but his eyes were closed. He wasn't moving.

Harmony's face slipped back into it's human form and the knife she'd been holding in one hand dropped to the floor.

"Hey Buffy. How are you? Don't mind me. I was just leaving."

Buffy wasn't really aware of moving. One moment she had been standing in the door. Frozen by the sight in front of her. The next she was on top of the female vampire. Pounding her face. By the time she realized what she was doing, Harmony was already unconscious. Her face unrecognizable.

Buffy looked around for something to finish her off with. She remembered the knife, but when she looked back at the bed she noticed for the first time the bite mark on Spike's neck. That stopped her. There was something about that. About vampire's and biting, but her mind wasn't working well enough to figure out what it was.

Instead she moved to the bed-stand and got out the handcuffs. She then dragged the naked vampire into the bathroom. Unfortunately the bathroom wasn't like Giles old apartment, so Buffy couldn't handcuff her to the shower, instead she had to settle for the pipes under the sink. She just hoped that Harmony didn't try to get free bust the pipes and flood the place.

Her brain was starting to work. She got a couple towels some bandages and a wet rag. Then she went back out to check on Spike.

First she untied him. As she did so she noticed how his stitches had come undone. Or rather, the skin around the stitches had torn. She washed and bandaged these first.

Spike still hadn't woken or moved. His whole body was covered in cuts, although none of them seemed to be deep. His neck however had been pretty badly torn. It must have been a particularly savage bite.

Then she remembered. When she'd first gone to England after Sunnydale had been destroyed, the whole gang had helped Giles go through and catalogue all that remained of the Watchers library. In the section of books that were written by Watchers, she had run across one book called "Blood and Sex Rites Among Vampires". She couldn't help herself. She couldn't imagine what a bunch of stuffy old Watchers could possibly know about vampire's and sex (and figured she had to be the foremost living expert on the subject) so she had taken it to read.

Leave it to a Watcher to make sex clinical and boring. Still she had read a lot of it, and she remembered that there had been something about mating. How if a vampire bit someone during sex they 'mated' with that person. There was maybe more to it, she thought but she couldn't remember. It formed some kind of bond and was the vampire version of marriage.

She couldn't seem to remember all of the details now, Watchers really were long winded, it had been hard to pay attention despite how interested she was, but she was pretty sure that it was bad for one if the mate was killed.

She shook her head. She could worry about that later. She figured Spike would know better than her, and better than some Watcher who died centuries ago.

Right now, she figured, he needed blood. She went to the refrigerator. There wasn't much pig's blood left. There was however the whole days supply of human blood. She hadn't gotten rid of it yet.

The human blood would be better for him, but she had promised. She looked over at the unconscious vampire. No, she wouldn't give him the blood Wolfram & Hart had supplied. Looking at how badly hurt Spike was, the last thing she could do was break a promise, break his trust. Even if it was for his own good.

She took the pigs blood and sat down on the bed, she held him in her arms. She tilted his head back and slowly poured the blood in his mouth. All too soon the pig's blood was gone, but Spike still hadn't moved except to swallow the blood.

She wrapped her arms around him then, and held him to her, like a small child clutching a large doll. Tears began to roll down her face and she began to sob. Letting the tension flow out of her.

After a few minutes, she stopped herself. This wasn't doing any good. She needed more blood for him, but she couldn't leave him, she didn't trust the cuffs to hold Harmony for long. Then she remembered the knife. Gently she put Spike back down, and reached over the side of the bed to grab the knife Harmony had used.

She sat back and stared at her arm. Beneath the skin she could see the dim blue outline of her veins. Those were veins right? The last thing either of them needed was for her to pass out from blood loss. She took a deep breath in and made a small on the inside of her arm just below her elbow. She didn't cut very deep, and the cut was only and inch and a half long. She figured she could always make a bigger cut if she needed to, but she couldn't make the cut smaller.

For a moment she just watched the blood, then she held her arm to Spike's mouth. She sat there, waiting, but nothing seemed to happened. She wondered if maybe she wasn't bleeding enough. She was just about to pull her arm back when she heard a snarl and pain ripped through her arm.

Instinctively she started to pull back before she remembered that this was what she wanted. Her heart started thrumming in her hears. Spike wrapped his arms around hers, pulling he closer, holding her tight. The pain faded, instead there was a dull ache in her arm.

She was suddenly aware of the blood flowing through her veins. The life she was giving to him. She could feel her heartbeat, her pulse, throbbing between her legs.

His rough tongue licked her wounds, and she let out a gasp. Then a moan. She was vaguely aware that she was calling his name.

Time seemed to stop, nothing was real except the gentle pull of Spike's mouth. It went on and on. Her need rising. She began to feel light headed, and then suddenly the pulling inside her stopped, the weight in her lap shifted, and she found herself staring into golden eyes.
 

Chapter 11 Dominance

At first there was just instinct. The scent of blood in the air, the taste of it as it dribbled down his tongue. There was no conscious thought as his fangs came out, as they bit into the flesh that was offered to them.

Slowly as the coppery elixir flowed down his throat, thought came. But not human thought.

Unlike Angel his unlife was not a constant battle between his soul and his demon. Rather they existed together in a sort of alliance. After all, it was the demon that had chosen to let the soul back in.

The man, the soul had retreated deep inside during Harmony's blood play knowing that the demon was better equipped to deal with the situation, and knowing that, soul or not, Spike was still physically a vampire. Would still respond as a vampire.

As soon as he began to be conscious, he knew whose blood it was that he tasted. The demon reveled in it. Slayer's blood. Buffy's blood. He could feel her blood coursing through him, making him strong, healing him.

Then he felt her heartbeat begin to waver. The demon, still acting on its own, reigned itself in. Spike the demon had no more desire to hurt Buffy than Spike the man.

Besides, he could smell her arousal and it thrilled him to know that that was how she responded to his bite.

He rolled over to look at her, then drew himself up so he was lying on top of her, their faces level. He was hard, painfully, deliciously hard. He felt as if he could fuck her for days without loosing his erection.

He sucked the blood from his teeth, and began moving against her. Her legs which had been cradling him, stayed open to him, allowing him to run the length of his cock up and down against her damp panties. She moaned, and slid down further under him, bringing her legs around his waist, holding him close. Her hands rose up to trace the ridges of his demon face.

Then he heard it. So quiet, barely audible to him, even with his demon senses. A tiny sound in the bathroom. And he realized for the first time that what he smelled was not the left over scent of Harmony on her discarded clothes, on him, on the bed. But her, still whole, still here, still not dust.

He roared. Rage filled him. The humiliation returned. His demon knew its worth, its viciousness, knew it was better than Harmony, knew that she should never have been able to have an advantage over him. Knew she was meant to be subservient to him.

He pulled away from Buffy, how could he touch her, take her, claim her, if he wasn't worthy of her? She was weak now, but her strength would return and the demon was sure she would look down on him in disdain. This thing that had been made helpless by the pathetic blond demon. But he could make it better, he could be worthy of his golden warrior again.

He got up off of her, off the bed. She wasn't strong enough to hold him, and with her blood in him he was so very strong. He didn't hear her as she called after him.

He had only one goal. Harmony.

There was, after all, a price for everything. The price a vampire paid for eternal youth was loosing its soul, having a demon walk around inside its skin. Never being able to see the light of day again.

At least that was the most commonly talked about price. There was another. To be a vampire was to be caught in a special, violent, bloody, social web. The lone vampire existed, but was rare. Naturally vampires sought out more of their own kind, they formed packs, and once you had any two vampires together, the struggle for dominance began.

It was a deeply disturbing for two vampires to be together without a pecking order being established. Without one dominating the other. Every vampire longed to be the Master, the dominant one, and yet at the same time, there was a secret thrill in being dominated.

Now it was time for Spike to take back his place. To be Master once more.

************************************************

She lay there on the bathroom floor, covered in blood, his blood. Helpless, handcuffed to the sink.

She expected the Slayer to come back at any moment and finish her. She couldn't understand why she wasn't dust already.

But it was Spike who entered the bathroom. Still fully naked, and now fully erect. The wounds she had inflicted on him were gone, healed completely. Only his arms, where that other slayer had mutilated him bled.

He looked her over and she could tell that the sight excited him, and angered him. He had dominated her a hundred times before, it wouldn't take much to reassert himself over her, but still, he had wanted to beat her down, to remind her how strong he was. But there was little point with her bound like that.

She looked up at him with large human eyes. "Blondie Bear?" her voice, her scent were smothered in fear.

She lay on her side, so it was easy for him to roll her over onto her stomach with his foot. Then he descended upon her. She tried to be seductive, tried to blunt his anger by showing her willingness, by rubbing her ass against his cock.

He let her think it had worked, gave into it for a moment. But only a moment. As she began to raise her ass again, he shifted above her, positioned his cock above her, and drove deep inside her with all his strength.

She screamed. The sound of her scream, the way she bucked under him once, then tried to hold still to easy the pain was nearly enough to send him over the edge. It had been so long since the demon had gotten to play like this.

Her tight anal passage was dry at first. The friction as he began to pump her painful to both of them. He reveled in it. But it didn't take long for his harsh fucking of her to tear her. And soon her blood acted as a lubricant. But it was before that happened that Harmony started moaning his name.

"Oh, god Spike!"

She was after all a vampire too. Just as he had been aroused by her own aggressive sexual acts, she too responded, although far more emphatically than he had. For both of them this was a return to normality. And despite herself Harmony couldn't help but think that maybe now she would have her Blondie Bear back.

His fangs tore down her back. He didn't bite her, just slit her open and began to lick her wounds, as she had done earlier with the knife.

It was too much for Harmony, he was back. Her Spike. No more of this Slayer nonsense. She would be his again. He would claim her over and over. Her big bad boyfriend who was tougher than any other vampire she had ever met. This was the way things were supposed to be. At that moment she could forgive him anything.

"Spike?"

Harmony's elation was destroyed, only moments before her orgasm was about to hit. The Slayer stood in the doorway watching them, tears rolling down her face, with a little lost girl look that Harmony would have killed to be able to pull off.

From the moment Spike had entered her, Harmony had forgotten about the Slayer. Now Buffy was here, a horrible reminder of all the bad things that had taken her Blondie Bear away from her.

His face changed. The snarling demon Harmony loved replaced by the blue eyes she had loved, before they had been filled with a soul.

"Buffy? Fuck!" Spike swore as he quickly tired to pull himself off and out of Harmony.

"What. . ? No, never mind. I. . . oh God you're Mated aren't you?" the Slayer whimpered and pulled her arms tightly about herself. Harmony noticed that her left arm was bandaged, and the Slayer wasn't looking very steady on her feet. Since they were both ignoring her, Harmony thought this might be a good time to see if she could quietly break the hand cuffs.

"Mated?! God no. Are you daft?" Spike was confused and angry. "How the hell do you even know about Mating?"

"I read about it."

"You READ about it?"

"Hey, I can read you know. Oh, you mean, as in, what's that sort of thing doing in a book. I told you, Watchers have books for everything, including vampire sex lives. And you had this horrible bite mark. . . "

"Which is gone now right pet? Mating marks are permanent, and noticeable, they scar forever," his voice softened for the first time.

Buffy punched him. Even Harmony could tell it wasn't much of a punch, not because they Slayer's heart wasn't in it, but because she was too weak hit him properly. They stared at each other for a moment. Then Buffy ran out of the bathroom crying.

"Buffy?"

"How could you Spike? I mean Harmony? And after what she did to you? Or was that voluntary? A little vampire high-jinx that got out of hand?" the Slayers words were barely understandable through her sobbing. Then she started to yell, "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I can't. . . we can't have this discussion here. We have to get out of here."

"Buffy?"

"Angel, he's got the placed bugged. Maybe a camera, I don't know. I just, god I don't even want you to see me like this."

After that all Harmony could hear was lots of cursing and bumping sounds. They were leaving, which meant they'd forgotten all about her. Which Harmony couldn't say she really minded, considering. She hadn't made much headway with the cuffs, although she thought that if she gave it a good yank or two she could bust the pipe she was cuffed to. Unfortunately that was likely to cause water to sploosh all over her, and her boots. She really loved those boots, and ruining them would be a last resort.

She was so caught up in her escape she didn't notice when the Slayer came back into the bathroom. Casually Buffy Summers reached into the shower and grabbed her shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. Then she turned toward Harmony, stake in hand.

"Just for the record Harm, this isn't for what you did to Spike. This is for what you did to him wearing those boots."

"Hey, I'll have you kno-" but Harmony just wasn't anymore. And Buffy Summers shook the dust off her skirt.

Chapter 12: Shame

Buffy lay down on her side on the closest of the two beds in the hotel room, and curled up into a little ball. But before she could say anything Spike broke in.

"He was watching? He saw? Or could he just hear? Fuck. He'd know either way," he was pacing back and forth across the small room, like a four year old vampire on a sugar high. Buffy was half convinced he would literally start bouncing off the walls any minute. It just made her more tired.

"Spike. Stop. Sit."

He ignored her.

"That bastard. He sent her didn't he?"

"I guess. I mean, it's hard to see this as a coincidence," Buffy was starting to get scared. It's not that she'd never seen Spike angry. But this was different somehow. Then it occurred to her that maybe he wasn't angry. Or rather maybe what she was seeing wasn't the anger, that it was something else.

She tried to remember what it was that she had seen when she had first gotten back. It had looked like, well it looked like Harmony had maybe raped Spike.

That was a concept Buffy didn't really know how to deal with. The idea of a man being raped by a woman just didn't fit in her ideas of the world. It certainly wasn't helped by the fact that the man and woman in question were Spike and Harmony.

But it made Spike's current state make more sense. When Spike had nearly raped her, she had hated the fact that Xander had found her. That he had some idea of what had almost happened. It seemed like another invasion of her privacy all over again.

And now Spike knew that Angel knew, not just knew but maybe had seen the whole thing. Or at least had it on tape to play over and over again. It was one thing for your best friend to find out you had been a victim, it was another for your worst enemy to know.

It wasn't anger she was seeing, it was shame.

"Spike. Stop. Please, just sit down and tell me."

To his credit he did stop his tearing about the room to stand over her on the bed and look down.

"Tell you what? What could I possibly have to say to you?"

She crumbled under his harsh words. She'd been trying to pull herself back together, tried to be strong. But it hurt.

It hurt her that something awful had happened to Spike, not to mention all the guilt from the fact that she was supposed to be taking care of him right now. Looking after him.

It hurt her that Angel had betrayed her trust by spying on her.

It hurt her that he might have had anything to do with Harmony's attack.

It hurt her to wonder if Harmony had been attacking Spike at all. If maybe she really had interrupted something consensual.

It hurt her to think that maybe she'd driven Spike to do something like that by teasing him.

And most of all it hurt her that he had been on top of her one minute, and then on top of Harmony the next.

So Buffy the Vampire Slayer just lay there and sobbed.

Spike seemed to melt. All the anger, or shame, or whatever it was, just drained out of him. He knelt down next to her, and tentatively reached out his hand to stroke her hair.

"Shh, pet. I'm sorry. God I'm sorry that you saw me like that."

"Like what? What. . . what was that Spike?" there she had said it. She had asked. She was terrified of the answer, but she had asked.

"That. . . Look it's like this," Spike didn't seem any surer than she was of what happened. That didn't comfort her at all. Her took in a deep breath. "Before you got there, Harmony, she. . . Look she-" he was stumbling, looking for a word he didn't have.

"Raped you?" Buffy barley whispered the words. She couldn't believe she had said them.

"What? No. It's not. . . Look I'm a vampire see. And vampires, this is what they do pet. It's not pretty, but we force ourselves on each other all the time, it's. . . well it's all about who's on top really," he sighed, unhappy with the obvious metaphor.

"So in others words, rape."

He looked at her exasperated like she was missing a very big obvious point.

"No look, it's not about the sex. Harmony, she stopped doing anything for me ages ago. It's about power you see."

"So once again, rape."

He turned away from her, tried to make it look like it was because he was frustrated that she wasn't understanding him, but she rather suspected that she had hit too close to home.

"Look she did to me, I did to her, that's all there is to it Slayer. I'm sorry if I offended you, scared you, but this is what I am. This is what the demon is, what it does," he was trying to sound nonchalant, but Buffy could hear the edge of desperation? sorrow? in his voice.

"Spike, hold me," it wasn't what she meant to say. She meant to scream at him to let her in. To give up his silly walls and tough guy attitude. She wanted to say something to make it better for him. Instead she found she could only voice her own needs.

He looked at her puzzled, but he got up from his crouch and moved around to get on the bed behind her. She could feel him stretch out, then he put his arms around her, and rested his chin on her shoulder.

It might have made things better for Spike, but somehow it made it all worse for her. It was too much like those last nights in Sunnydale, and nothing like them all at once. She wept even harder and twisted around so as to burry her face in Spike's chest.

There was a sort of contentment in Spike as her held and rocked Buffy to sleep. Stroking her hair, holding her, whispering in her ear. He could forget why she was crying and just concentrate on making her feel better.

All that changed once she was asleep though. First of all he was still wired from Slayer blood. Just lying still was an incredible effort, but Buffy was wound all around him. There was no way he could untangle himself without waking her up.

Then there was the smell. He could still smell Harmony all over himself and the scent disgusted him. It made his skin crawl, and his stomach turn. In fact he started to think he would actually throw up if he didn't get the scent off of him.

That was what decided him. He figured Buffy would rather be woken up by him shaking her, than by him throwing up blood on her.

"Buffy?" he shook her gently calling in her ear.

"Mmmm, what?" came her annoyed voice.

"I'm sorry to wake you love, but. . . I really need to take a shower."

"Hmm?" she mumbled not fully awake.

"Pet, look, I smell like Harmony all over, I-"

She sat straight up.

"Oh, my God. I'm so sorry, I should have thought. . . I mean, I should have known you'd want to clean up. Come on."

A/N Feedback on this chapter would be much appreciated. It was a difficult one to write, and I hoped I stayed true to the characters. Any opinions would be welcome.

Chapter 13: Lather, Rinse, Repeat

Buffy sat on the edge of the bathtub running her hands under the water to test the temperature.

"Buffy it doesn't really matter how hot it is. I just want to get clean."

She flipped her hair over one shoulder.

"Yes it does. Standing under the water isn't going to get you clean Spike. And I'm very temperature sensitive."

If his heart could beat, it would have skipped a beat right then. Not that he really believed that she was offering what it sounded like she was offering.

Satisfied she turned off the water and shook the excess off her hand. Then she went back into the main room. She came back a minute later carrying the bottle of that scented liquid soap she used and some sort of netting that had been bound together to make a sort of yellow powder puff.

"What's that for?" Spike asked warily.

"To clean you silly, what you're not afraid of a luffa are you?"

"I just don't want to end up like some sweet smelling nancy boy."

"You don't like the way I smell?" she said in her best innocent voice.

As he tried to think of a response to that that wouldn't get him in trouble, Buffy began to strip, which distracted him completely.

She did it methodically, as if she were the only one in the room. Not as if she was trying to seduce him. Which he found all the more seductive. She neatly folder her clothes and lay them on the sink. Then she turned toward him.

She approached him and hooked her fingers under the hem of his shirt, and ran her hands up his chest as she helped him off with his shirt. He trembled as her fingers touched him. Her hands were so hot he thought that you might be able see a trail of red down his chest where she had touched him.

Then she was kneeling before him, her fingers working the laces of his boots. She looked up at him and smiled.

Looking down on her kneeling naked before him, her bright green eyes staring him straight in the face, he felt his jeans tighten across his hips.

He stepped out of his boots, but she stayed kneeling as she undid his belt and zipper. As his dick sprang free, her hot breath tickled it and he couldn't help but moan. She helped him out of his pants then she grabbed his forearms and lead him to the shower. A moment later hot water was splashing down on both of them.

It took all his will power not to say something or reach out and touch her. He had no idea how she'd react to that. Somehow she had finally mastered that nonchalant, 'This is all business,' attitude that she'd been striving for since they first left the hospital. He had no idea what to make of it. So he didn't say anything.

She had worked the soap into a lather, and began to scrub him hard with the luffa. He loved the rough feel of it as she started to rub away the top layer of his skin. As one hand scrubbed him the other always lay lightly on his chest as if she needed it to steady herself.

She had scrubbed his chest and arms when she stopped suddenly, and caught his eye.

"Spike?" she moved in close to him so there body's were just barely touching. Her nipples hit his chest with every breath she took. His dick was pressed against her stomach, the very tip of it pressed down a little so that it was tickled by her hair. "Is this okay? I mean is this the right thing to do?"

"You're asking me to be your moral compass, pet?" he couldn't help but chuckle. Not only was he not the best moral judge, but he thought there was no way he could actually turn her down.

She smiled at him.

"Spike, you and me, we're fast healers. The broken bones, the cuts, the scrapes, the burns. Not a big deal. You've been though things that I can't even. . . that I don't want to imagine. The fact is, you're the toughest person, the toughest demon I know." She placed her hand above his unbeating heart and looked him dead in the eyes. "You're also the most vulnerable. So yeah, I'm asking you if this is all right."

He closed his eyes to let her words sink in. To just enjoy them for what they were, even if he wanted to hear her say more. He was about to answer her when she broke in.

"Now. Um, I mean not that you have to answer now. I mean, I want to know if this is all right now. I mean, this isn't a now or never deal. A lot's happened tonight. So. . . um."

He almost laughed at her. At her transformation from sure confident woman, to the more normal, terrified of anything that resembled a relationship Buffy.

Instead he kissed her. Gently at first, barely touching his lips to hers. Testing her, to see if she really did mean what she said.

The moment their lips touched she leaned into him. Pressing her body firmly against his, and running her fingers through his hair. She opened her mouth to him, and he eagerly sent his tongue in to explore her. She excepted him and moved her own tongue in to explore his mouth. Slowly, deeply they kissed.

Finally Buffy broke for air. He tried to pull her back in for another kiss but she pulled away from him.

When he gave her a hurt look she flashed him a wicked smile and said, "I'm not done washing you yet. Now turn around."

He wanted to go on kissing her, but then it occurred to him that she had yet to wash him anywhere below the waist so it might be in his interest to obey her.

When he turned around she kneeled behind him, she cupped one of his cheeks with one hand, while she scrubbed the other one with the other hand. Once she had thoroughly scrubbed the one cheek she kissed it, nipping him just a bit as she did.

He growled appreciatively, causing her to giggle.

Then she was scrubbing his other side. To his disappointment the second cheek didn't receive the same attention the first had. When she was done with it she went on to clean his legs. He grumbled a little wondering if she was playing the sort of game where he was expected to beg.

Then she was done and he felt her hand begin to kneed his ass.

"Did I ever tell you what a nice ass you have?" she asked. Before he could respond her mouth was back on his ass, but this time she didn't nip him. Instead she bite him, hard enough to leave a mark.

He groaned. She was marking him up and down, leaving teeth marks like brands, and he was more than willing to let her claim all of him.

"Now turn back around," she said.

He did and now the shower was hitting him in front again. Buffy was still on her knees, her hair plastered down to her by the water that grazed the back of her head and ran in little rivers down her front.

She had picked up her bottle of body wash and was squeezing it unto her hand. Then she grabbed his dick with that self same hand, and began running her hand up and down his length.

Once she had a good lather worked up she paused, getting soap on her other hand. Then as one hand went back to working his dick, her other sweet little hand reached lower, between his legs and started rubbing soap onto his balls.

"Oh, god Buffy!" he cried. He began trying to run his fingers through her hair but he couldn't loosen her wet locks from her head, so instead he simple stroked it, as her slippery fingers worked him over.

Just as he felt he couldn't hold back anymore, she stopped and turned her body, holding her hands and arms directly in the stream of the shower, to wash the soap off of them. He watched as the bubbles ran down her arms. Then she ducked out of the way, so that the shower hit him in full and began to rinse him off.

"I want you inside me,"

"Not in here, pet, not too sure of my footing and I can't catch myself if we slip."

She nodded and turned off the shower, rung out her hair, and stepped out. Then to his disappointment she wrapped a towel first around her hair, and then another one around herself.

"Come on, let's get you dried off," she said.

She had another of the hotel's big, fluffy, towels in her hands. He stepped out and let her dry him off again except that this time she was groping him through the towel. When she was done with his body, she ran the towel over his head a couple times, whisking the excess water out of his hair. Then she left the towel on the floor and pulled him into the next room.

She sat him down on the bed, and then moved back, out of his grasp. She then removed the towel around her body and began to dry herself off. She did it slowly, letting the towel glide against her skin. She used the towel to cup her breasts and he could see her shiver with pleasure as the fabric ran over her nipples.

Then she moved a little closer to him, with a look that clearly said, 'No touching yet.'

She lifted one leg, and placed her toes on the edge of the bed. Then she bent forward and ran the towel up her leg as if she were putting on her stockings. Then she dried off the other leg in the same fashion. She dropped the towel to the ground and pulled the other towel off her head and tossed it to the floor.

As she shook out her wet hair she said, "It's a good thing we have two beds."

"Why's that pet?"

All of a sudden she was straddling him, her knees up on the bed on either side of him, her chest pressed against his. Her dripping folds hovering above his dick.

"Because there's no way I can wait till my hair dries."

Chapter 14: Bite Marks

He pulled her into a deep kiss and then rolled her over so that he was now on top of her. For a moment she thought of wrestling him for the position. But after only a moment on her back, her tiredness hit her once more. He'd got lots of energy, Buffy thought, maybe I'll let him do the work.

His lips and tongue left her mouth and began to travel up her jaw line to her ear. He nibbled it for a second, and then he began to move back down. Before his mouth could travel down further than her collar bone she wrapped her legs around him to hold him in place.

"No, I need you inside of me now."

"But pet, I haven't ev. . . "

"Now," she said in a more demanding voice.

He smiled at her and pulled himself back up so he was positioned above her. She reached down between them to guide his cock toward her waiting core. She positioned the head of his cock at her entrance and they held their position for just a second letting the tension between them build. Then when Buffy thought she couldn't wait another moment he pushed his way inside of her.

She screamed in delight and Spike cried out, "Fuck, you're so tight."

He was right. She could feel him stretching her open, her body no longer used to encompassing his width. His weight, his feel was so familiar, and yet the pain of his entry made it seem almost new.

He was holding still above her, letting her adjust to him. He looked her in the eyes and asked, "I'm not hurting you, luv, am I?"

It seemed like it took her an eternity to get enough breath to speak. She always felt like her breathing was out of control when Spike was inside her. Like having him inside didn't leave enough room for oxygen.

"Only in a good way." To emphasize her point she pulled her legs up till her knees where almost touching her chest, to allow him deeper access, and then wrapped her legs around him so that her heels dug into the small of his back.

He smiled and bit his lower lip. Then he began to move on top of her. He pushed in and out of her with long hard strokes, gentle and demanding all at once. But Buffy wanted none of that. Her need was too great. It had been so long since she'd had anyone, since she'd had him. She didn't need to be taken gently, she needed to be fucked thoroughly.

"More! Faster!" was the best she could articulate her needs, but she could use her legs to encourage him to pick up the pace.

Spike obliged, pushing into her with more and more force. The base of his cock hitting her clit every time he rammed into her.

His forehead was pressed to the bed next to her and his breath tickled her as he spoke to her, "So tight, so hot. Need you. Want you. Beautiful. Buffy."

His mouth was on her neck, kissing, licking, sucking up and down. Then he bit her.

It sent her over the edge.

It was only his blunt human teeth, nothing he hadn't done to her before. But her body still remembered his other bite of only a couple hours ago. The sweet pain as his fangs had sliced her skin. The pull as he sucked the very life out of her.

Her fingers that had been raking his back, moved to his head, and she held it in place against her. Her whole body turned into a vise that tried to squeeze him into her as her body rocked violently with her orgasm.

As the spasms passed her hands fell limply to her sides. She felt the lethargy of his bite return. She couldn't remember having felt this spent in her entire life.

But Spike wasn't done yet, he was still moving in and out of her, and despite her own tiredness, it thrilled her to feel him still pumping her. Stretching her.

He looked up at her and she could see concern in his eyes, but what it was for she couldn't fathom. It bothered her though, she needed to distract him from what ever it was that was keeping him from his release. And she knew exactly how to do that.

"Tell me I'm your girl," she prompted, "Say I'll always be your girl."

Bingo!

The confusion left his eyes, and was replaced by a look of surprise and then bliss.

"Always," he cried, pumped in her one last time. Then she felt his body tremble as he came.

She let him lie still on top of her as he recovered from his own orgasm. Then she rolled them both onto their sides, burrowed her head into his chest, closed her eyes, and was asleep.

*********************************

Why can't you just be happy? a little voice in the back of his head asked. Isn't this everything you've ever wanted?

Looking at the sleeping woman in his arms, he had to admit that if it wasn't everything he wanted, it was pretty damn close.

Still his unease wouldn't go away.

And to think, he'd been worried that without full use of his hands he couldn't get her off. Never in his existence had he thought he would be worried about having brought a woman to orgasm too easily. But there it was, staring him in the face. It wasn't him she wanted, it was his bite.

Looking back earlier that evening it seemed all too clear. Whatever her body had wanted, Buffy had had the willpower to say no to him, to rebuff him, for more than a year. This is until he'd bitten her.

When he'd awoken with her blood in his mouth, the demon had been sure her arousal was because of the bite. Spike found himself now agreeing.

He looked down at her and brushed the still damp hair back away from her neck. There they were, standing in sharp relief to her skin. The little white bumps that showed where other vampires had bitten her. Despite everything she'd been through, all the fights, the only marks on her body, her only scars where these.

Now he knew those scars went deeper than the skin. He was the fourth vampire to bite her, and that he knew, was more than enough. Some humans began to crave the bite after only being bitten once, assuming they lived.

She's the Slayer, he reminded himself. She's not really addicted. Couldn't be. Wouldn't make sense. A Slayer's bound to be bit a time or two. There must be a natural immunity. Otherwise, Slayers would end up getting themselves killed, looking for the bite, all the time.

It was a comforting thought, and he repeated it over and over in his head, not letting himself dwell on the fact that most Slayer's didn't live as long as Buffy Summers already had.

Chapter 15: Evil Vampire Logic

She woke up feeling rested. Her strength was back.

A stray lock of hair fell in front of her face and she brushed it back. As she did so her fingers got caught in a snarl. Crap, she thought, I went to sleep last night with wet hair. Not to mention all the rubbing her head against the pillow during sex.

She reached behind her head. Yep, her hair was one big, giant, knot. She tried to wiggle out of Spike's grasp without waking him. She defiantly wanted to do some major conditioning before he saw her.

"Where do you think you're going?" a deep voice asked as arms snaked around her, dragging her back onto the bed.

"Eeep. Don't look at me. Must wash hair."

He laughed, and his breath tickled her back. "You look beautiful to me," he said as he began kissing his way from her shoulder up to her mouth.

She kissed him back, knowing the best way to fight Spike was not to struggle but go along with him. Her plan was to get on top of him, and make her escape from there. The only problem was once she was on top of him, she found she didn't want to move.

Their kissing becoming more passionate and slowly evolved into groping. Just as Buffy was thinking it was time to take matters, and Spike, into her own hands and move things along, there was a knock at the door.

"Housekeeping."

"No, we don't need. . . We're good thanks," Buffy yelled out, turning bright red.

The door, which had just started to open, shut again and Buffy breathed a sigh of relief.

Spike was laughing at her.

She sat up on top of him, put her hands on her hips, and said, "What? So I didn't put the sign on the door. They shouldn't be coming around this early in the morning anyway."

Spike wiggled under her with laughter. His eyes were shinning with it. "Pet, it's 11:47. Been a while since I kept regular hours, but as I recall that's not all that early."

"Oh crap," she said, and to his dismay escaped from the bed.

"Hey! Where do you thing you're going?"

"I have to get my hair untangled, and get dressed, and go out. I need to get you blood, and I still don't know what to do about Angel now that he's gone crazy," she said while moving toward the bathroom.

"He's not crazy, he's just Angel, luv," he said with resignation in his voice. He got up to follow Buffy into the bathroom so they could continue their conversation.

"Nuh-uh. You're not getting in the shower with me. That's how I ended up with a rat's nest as a hair do in the first place. And you're wrong about Angel. What he's doing. It's not him. That place it's doing something to him."

Spike dutifully stood outside the shower so they could continue the conversation without getting too distracted. Which was good, Buffy told herself. Even if she was a bit disappointed.

"Look, I'm not saying ruling the Evil Empire hasn't gone to his head. But Buffy, he's always been like this. You just didn't see it before."

"Once again, you're confusing Angel and Angelus. Look I'm sure you know Angelus much better than me, but it's not like you ever knew Angel. You what, punched each other a couple times?"

"I know you think you know him, Buffy. But answer me this: When you and Angel were an item, it was all roses and candy wasn't it?"

Even though he couldn't see it through the shower curtain, Buffy still rolled her eyes in a dramatic and exaggerated manner.

"Yes Spike. You know, not all guys think the way to woo a girl is to try and kill her."

"My point exactly. A fella starts pursuing a pretty young thing, he shows her his best face, so to speak. Not to mention, he didn't have a reason to stalk you when you were dating, now did he?"

"That's ridiculous," so was the mess she'd made of her hair. Just trying to work the conditioner through it was a real pain.

"Is it? Tell me sweets, was he upfront at the beginning about being a vampire?"

"No, but that doesn't count. Hello, vampire slayer here, or have we forgotten?"

He chuckled, "Not for a second pet. But he was real upfront about it. You know. Once you knew him, he told you right away?"

"Well, not right away. . ." This, Buffy reminded herself, is exactly why things with Spike were complicated. Just cause he had a soul didn't mean he'd given up on his evil, twisted, vampire logic. She hated it when he used evil logic.

"But he did tell you right? Came right out and said it. Walked right up to you and said, 'Buffy, you know how I'm a big brooding poof. Well that's cause I'm a vampire. But never fear, for gypsies cursed me to an eternity of flogging myself.'"

Buffy looked around the shower for a weapon. She found only the bar of soap provided by the hotel, and as always improvised. She grabbed the soap, concentrated for a moment, then tossed it over the shower curtain.

"Ow. Hey watch it. I'm defenseless out here."

She giggled.

"Still haven't answered my question, luv. Did Angel come right out and tell you or not?"

Damn, evil vampire. Refusing to be distracted by flying soap. She needed something that would cause a concussion, or at least memory loss.

"Fine. Fine. You're right okay. He didn't tell me. Ever. I found out he was a vampire when we were kissing and he vamped. He didn't even tell me about the soul until Darla mentioned it after trying to frame him for attacking my mom."

The was a thump. Oh god. I did give him a concussion, Buffy thought. It's just a delayed reaction soap concussion. Then she realized she also heard laughing. She peeked out of the shower to see Spike lying on the floor, curled into a ball, and laughing hysterically.

"Sure, laugh at my teenage angst. Let's all mock Buffy's worst romantic moments." She had half a mind to get out and thump him proper, even if he was rather ridiculous looking lying there laughing.

"I'm not. . . laughing. . . at . . . you." To her relief he seemed to be regaining control. Which was good, because out of control vampires never a good thing, even if they didn't seem to be doing anything other than providing a laugh track to her life. "It's just so . . . pathetic."

"Pathetic? You think I'm pathetic Mr. I spent a hundred years mooning after a crazy dead slut. Get out." Oh god, Spike thought she was pathetic. She closed the shower curtain, and hid within the safety of the shower. "Out!"

"Buffy? No, you do-"

"I said get out!" she was yelling now. How could he mock her like that. Didn't he understand how hard it was for her to talk about the past. How obvious all her mistakes were. Did he think she didn't know how young and stupid she'd been with all her notions of true love conquers all.

The shower curtain was swept open and Spike stepped in.

"Buffy? You're crying, aren't you. I'm sorry. Shouldn't have brought up the past."

She tried clumsily to push him away, but it just gave Spike the chance to wrap his arms around her, and hold her tight against him.

"Shh," he tried to comfort her.

She struggled against him, but her arms were trapped at her sides by his bear hug. After only a few attempts, she gave in and began to cry in earnest.

"Go away," she implored him.

"Not gonna happen, pet. Not when you're like this."

"Like what? PATHETIC!"

"Oh, balls. Look you misunderstood. I didn't mean you Buffy. I could never think of you as pathetic. I meant Angel."

She stopped struggling and looked up. "Really?"

He loosened his hold on her, and put his hand under her chin to force her to look him in the eye. "Absolutely."

"I don't get it. What's pathetic about Angel?"

"Your lifetime's not long enough for that list, luv. But in this case. . . Look, all the times you with you and me, did you ever know me to vamp on you? When we were kissing and stuff I mean."

"No," she didn't like the direction this was going. Did she not excite Spike as much as she had Angel?

"Right. And you know why that is?" she shook her head, "It's because only the most wet behind the ears fledgling, vamps in the middle of things like that, at least with a human. Sporting the bumpies tends to scare away dinner. Any vampire worth his salt can keep the fangs under control. It's . . . it's like some teenage boy coming in his pants when his girl friend takes her shirt off. So, am I all forgiven pet?"

"Only if you leave me alone until my hair's under control," she said teasingly.

"Hmm," he said running his hands down her back making her skin tingle. "That's a tough choice. Forgiveness or a romp in the shower. Just this once I'm opting for forgiveness, but don't think I'm going to make a habit of it."

"Wouldn't dream of it," she said in her best sultry voice. Then just to emphasize her point, as he got out of the shower she slapped him on the ass.
 

Chapter 16: Therapy

"I'm really not hungry, there's no reason for you to go out," Spike tried to reason with her.

"You're still healing, you need lots of blood. Besides, if I stay here all you'll do is work up an appetite."

"Really luv, I'm fine, look." Spike grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his lap. It hurt like hell, everyone of those tiny muscles in his palm and fingers screamed, but he was able to do it.

Buffy looked suitably impressed. Then a worried look crossed her face.

"Crap, we forgot about you're exercises. We didn't do them last night or this morning."

It wasn't how Spike wanted to spend their time. However since Buffy seemed perfectly content to remain on his lap he wasn't going to complain.

As her hands guided his through the proper motions he tried to steal gentle kisses. Whenever he managed to catch her lips she would giggle and then pretend to scold him. He would be good then, for all of a minute, and then he would begin it all again.

The whole thing was like a dream to Spike. She was so real, so vivid. She was with him. It was terrifying. He could believe that there was really hope for the two of them. He couldn't help but lap up the attention she was lavishing on him, along with her smiles, her giggles, her joy. Having a happy Buffy wriggling in his lap was all Spike could ever ask for.

"Okay, that's enough. I really have to go now." Buffy said as they finished.

"Can't go yet."

"Why not?"

He pulled his arms tighter around her, hugging her close, but also grinding her against the erection that had formed during their session.

"Feel what you do to me?" he growled in her ear, and then commenced nuzzling her.

"Oh so that's my fault?"

"Mmmmm," was all he said as he continued to focus his attention on her neck.

"Spike, stop it. I really have to go. You need blood and I didn't notice it on the room service menu. Unless. . . you want something a little fresher?"

He stopped. "What do you mean?" he asked cautiously, titling his head to look her in the eye.

"Me," she whispered.

"You want me to bite you?" he said quietly.

She nodded, but she could no longer meet his eye. Instead she looked down at the floor.

He ran his knuckles across the scars on her neck causing her to shiver. "Why?" he asked.

"It. . . It would be good for you. Slayer blood's so strong. And I wouldn't have to go out, so afterward we could. . ."

"What?"

"Make love," she offered. She was fidgety, he could tell that she didn't understand his reluctance anymore than she liked being forced to explain herself.

"I'd like that, pet. The last part anyway." She looked up at him confused. "But I'm not going to bite you."

"Why not?" she asked, jutting out her bottom lip to give him her best pout.

It almost did him in. But he retained his resolve.

"Because it's not good for you," he pressed his finger to her lips before she could object. "I would never hurt you Buffy. You know that. Sure, I know what I'm doing. I could drain you without hurting you. But that's not the point. You're starting to crave it. The way Riley did. " Her eyes flared with anger, "Let me finish. This could get you killed. You can't safely fight vampires if some part of you deep down wants them to bite you. And I could never stand to think I had some part in getting you killed."

She waited a moment to see if he was done. Then she broke his hold and stood up.

"I'm nothing like Riley was. I would never pay . . . You're wrong. You're just wrong. Now I need to get you some blood." With that she grabbed her purse and left. Slamming the door behind her.

Well that could have gone worse, Spike thought. Sure Buffy had run away, but that was par for the course. He'd come out of it without a bloody nose, and hopefully, if he gave her time to think about what he said. . . okay so that probably wouldn't make a difference.

In fact he realized, that this problem was a bit unique in that it didn't matter whether Buffy admitted to it or not. She was right, she would never consciously seek to be bitten by anyone other than him. Or Angel, a voice he'd rather not listen to prompted. But that wasn't where the danger lay. It lay in the heat of the fight, when the brain was a passenger and the body took over. When thoughts came too slowly to be of any use and instinct was all that kept you alive.

He sat there, deep in thought, trying to think up a way to help Buffy. To save her. He was so rapt up in his own head that he almost didn't notice the door open.

"Back so soon p-" he stopped. Before the figure even came through the door he smelled him. It wasn't Buffy, it was Angel.

"You came to visit. Why I didn't know you cared. Did you bring me any flowers? Or perhaps a spy camera?" Spike mocked.

Angel entered the room, closed the door behind him. He stood with his arms crossed, his legs set wide, and wearing what Spike knew, was his second best menacing look. After Angel had lost his soul in Sunnydale, Spike had secretly watched Angelus practice in front of Dru, afraid that he was out of practice after a century with a soul. Despite that, Spike found the piece of wood in Angel's right hand menacing enough all on it's own.

"That's right. I saw the whole thing. I saw you hurt her. I saw you bite her. And to think, you actually convinced some people you were a champion," Angel said.

Spike stood up. "What can I say? You got me mate. After all I'm the only person in this room to bite or hurt Buffy. Oh wait. . ." he let his sentence trail off.

"Please Spike that was different."

"Which? The biting her? Or the hurting her?"

"I'm not here to argue semantics with you Spike."

"No, cause you might actually have to think then."

"Please Spike, YOU'RE accusing me of not thinking. Now who's calling the kettle black?"

"I'm not the one who's cunning plan relied on Harmony."

"Which reminds me, you owe me a new secretary."

"You HATED Harmony. Go talk to the bloody steno-pool."

"As far as last words go Spike, I don't think those are going to make the top 10 list." With that Angel leapt across the room, stake raised.

"Bugger," Spike swore as he dived out of the way. He'd hoped he could keep Angel talking for longer. He knew this time around he was outmatched. He couldn't even open the door to leave. He'd have to bash through it if he wanted to get out. And there was no way he could turn his back on Angel.

If Angel was determined to kill him, his only hope was to either draw the fight out until Buffy got back (assuming Angel hadn't set up something to delay her) or to send Angel through the balcony door into the sunlight, without ending up outside himself. And considering he couldn't use his hands, that wasn't going to be easy.

Chapter 17: Loss

A/N This next chapter is a little grizzly and graphic.

Buffy quickly slid the card in and out of the slot on the front of the door handle. She waited, but the light didn't go green. Damn, she hated these things. She could never remember whether she was supposed to pull the card out right away or leave it in, and they weren't consistent. In some hotels it was in and out, in others you had to wait for the light. This was obviously one of the latter ones. It was all part of some evil scheme, she was sure.

Sighing, she slid the card back in, waited for a moment until the light turned green, then pulled it back out. Quickly she grabbed the handle. She was always sure these doors would re-lock themselves before she opened them. It had never happened, but she was sure it would. Not to mention she had to do this all one handed because she was carrying a grocery bag full of pig's blood.

As soon as the door opened the smell of burnt flesh hit her. She flung the door open to be greeted by bright sunlight streaming through the room and no Spike. She ran across the room to fling the curtains shut. It was only after the curtains had closed over the glass door that led out onto a small balcony, that she realized that there was no door. Or at least the glass was gone.

Maybe he wasn't here, she thought. Or maybe he left. But the sight she saw as she looked outside said otherwise. There on the balcony amidst the shattered glass was a pile of dust.

Buffy fell to her knees. No, no, no, no, no, NO. This could not be happening. She hadn't been gone that long. He just couldn't be gone. Not now. He'd promised. She was going to be his girl. Always he'd said. He couldn't do this, not again.

Then a breeze picked up and the dust started to blow away. "NO!" she screamed, "You can't have him!" She tried to clutch at the dust, grabbing handfuls of both it and the shattered safety glass. But that only caused more of it to blow away. The glass cut her hands and she began to bleed, her blood and the dust that had been her lover mixed.

Tears streamed down her face, she wanted to make a sound. Yell at the world for taking him away from her again, but she was choking on her own breath. She felt as though there were a gaping hole in her chest that was sucking her in. An emptiness, a black hole from which nothing could escape.

Finally she turned to go back into the room. She wanted his duster. They had brought it last night, but he hadn't been wearing it when she left, so it should still be around somewhere. She wanted to curl up in it. To breathe his scent, as if that could make it all untrue.

She looked back into the room, trying to see where she had put it, but she was blind from looking out into the sunlight. All too slowly her eyes adjusted, shadows resolved into shapes. Then, there in the doorway of the bathroom she noticed the sole of a black boot sticking out.

She tried to get up, to run over there. But her hands were slick with blood and dust and they slipped out from under her as she tried to push herself to her feet. She fell and felt the rough carpet burn her forearms. With her face now level to the ground and her vision adjusted she saw that there was a trail of blood and ash that led to the bathroom.

She scrambled on her hands and knees clumsily across the floor. She realized the closer she got to the bathroom the stronger the smell of burnt flesh became until, this far from the shattered door and fresh air, it was almost overwhelming.

In the bathroom she was greeted to a gruesome sight. Platinum hair glowed in the dim light. It was the only color on the still form that lay there. That was because from head to toe he was black. Every bit of exposed skin was as black as his t-shirt. His face, his neck, his hands, they were all black. In places the skin had bubbled, like a marshmallow left in the fire for too long. Only his forearms were different. They were dark glistening red. She realized that he must have pulled himself in here using only his arms. The ash she had seen on the carpet was the skin that had rubbed off as he pulled himself along.

He had obviously tried to lie on his right side, but he'd only been able to twist himself half way. The reason was all to obvious. Out of his left shoulder jutted a wooden stake, just above where his heart was.

Buffy never knew she could feel so sick and happy all at once. He was hurt, and horribly. But he wasn't dust. She knew that if he hadn't dusted by now, no matter how severe his injuries were, he'd survive.

She managed to get to her feet, but before she could go get him the blood she'd bought, she had something far more urgent to do. She had to throw up.

At first she was glad that she hadn't stopped to get lunch. There shouldn't have been much in her to throw up since she hadn't eaten since dinner last night. But that only meant that her dry heaving lasted longer.

Guilt washed over her. How long had she spent staring uselessly into space? All that useless crying had been time she could have spent helping him. Now she was wasting more time, uselessly bent over the toilet.

Finally it stopped. Even so, as she got up she was careful not to look at his upper body. Just focus on his jeans, she told herself. They were always black.

As she exited the bathroom, she flicked the switches until she found the fan. Hopefully that would get rid of the smell.

She ran to get the pig's blood. She was glad she'd gotten twelve whole jars. The man at the butchers had looked at her strangely, but she had wanted to be sure to have enough to last a while so she wouldn't have to go on another blood run any time soon.

She unscrewed the cap on the first jar but a new problem now presented itself. His head lay on his right arm, tilted to the side. She would have to move him to be able to pour the blood down his throat.

She carefully placed her hands on the sides of his head and turned it. She did it quickly, knowing that she could not help but hurt him, wanting to make it as brief as possible.

His eyes and mouth flew open. She could see his scream, even if she couldn't hear it. She could also see the why. Blood had caused the skin of his cheek to stick to his arm leaving a pink oozing wound on his face, and a black shell on his arm, like a broken mask.

"It's me. Buffy," she said, "I'm so sorry. It's going to be okay. It's all going to be okay, I promise. I'm not going anywhere. I promise." She didn't know if he could hear her, if her words could possibly be any comfort to him, but they comforted her. The silence had become oppressive, unnatural. Her words filled it in. So she kept them up. Rattling off a long series of comforting phrases.

She began to pour the blood down his throat. She would make him better.

Twelve jars of blood later he was conscious, Buffy wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

"Buffy?" he croaked.

"Shhhh, I'm here. I'm so sorry. I'm not going anywhere. I . . . I don't know what to do Spike. What. . . what do you need?"

"Sorry."

"No, shh, this isn't your fault. Angel sent someone didn't he? A vampire, I saw the dust outside. But-."

"No," his voice was a whisper.

"No what?"

"Angel. . . dust."

It took her a moment, then Buffy understood. Angel hadn't sent someone. He'd come himself.

It was hard to believe at first. She didn't want to believe he'd changed so much. Or maybe he hadn't changed at all, a voice in the back of her head whispered.

She could see his plan in her head. See Angel watching her. See him waiting for her to leave. Then he'd come in, quickly stake Spike, and clean up the dust. Maybe taking some of Spike's stuff so that it looked like Spike had just chosen to leave. Leaving her to think that another man had run out on her.

Still it was hard to believe that he would do all this behind her back. She knew he hated Spike, and knew that he hated the idea of her and Spike even more, but this?

Then it all clicked into place. He was doing what he'd always done. He was treating her like a child who needed to be protected. He was making the decisions for her just like he always had. He still didn't believe she was capable of deciding who should be a part of her life, or what sort of life she wanted.

She waited for the grief to hit her. For the tears to come. Angel was dead. He was never coming back. She would never see him again. But there were no tears, no grief. Maybe she was just numb, maybe it was just one shock too many, but all she felt was relief that she had one less thing to worry about.

Looking at Spike she knew she had plenty to worry about as it was.

Chapter 18: Recovery

Moonlight streamed in through the cabin's tiny window and roamed over her breasts as she bobbed up and down on top of him. It lit her golden hair like a halo, framing her face which was thrown back in ecstasy. Her eyes were closed, and that was okay, he didn't want the sight of him to interfere with her enjoyment. He hoped that in her mind she saw him healthy and whole.

Her hot hungry pussy seemed to devour his dick. Her tight muscles clung to him, greedily sucked him in. Her rhythm increased, and he was desperate to thrust into her as hard as she was riding him. But if he moved too much he knew he wouldn't be able to hide the pain from her, and then she would stop and he would have no way of getting her off.

That was what drove him the most crazy. It was almost a week ago that he had woken up with his dick in her hot little mouth being sucked for all he was worth. It had been heaven. But after she was done, he couldn't return the favor. He couldn't do anything for her. As much as he loved her soft skin, the feel of her thighs against his burnt cheeks was too painful, and she was constantly fearful of doing anything that caused him pain.

That first blow job, and all the rest that followed it, hadn't been about sex, it had been about guilt. Buffy blamed herself for everything that had happened. For not taking good enough care of him. For leaving him alone. Now she refused to leave. He had to yell at her to go to the galley to get food to eat. It had been almost endearing the first few days, but now it was ridiculous. They were in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, if anyone among the crew had been going to hurt him, they would have done it by now.

"Oh, God Spike," she called. Her eyes were open now, and if the sight of him bothered her, she didn't show it. But then maybe she was used to it. She'd had nothing to look at but him for weeks now. Still, every time one of his blistered hands passed into his field of vision Spike shuddered. If his face looked anything like that. . .

Her climax hit and her inner muscles squeezed him tightly. He exploding into her, proud of himself for still being able to bring her off, even if she had done most of the work. It was worth all the pain as the back of his neck and arms dragged painfully on the sheets.

"Oh god, I DID hurt you," Buffy suddenly said. "I should never. . ."

Damn, he'd upset her. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all. He hated being an invalid. It was his nature to take care of others, and he so wanted to take care of her.

"It's okay pet, it was worth it really," there was no point in trying to hide the pain. Two weeks spent together in that small cabin had made them incredibly sensitive to each other.

She rested her cheek on his stomach. Luckily the flames hadn't had a chance to spread before he'd rolled out of the sunlight and smothered them. So most of his chest, and everything lower down had been spared.

One of her hand strayed lower down and began to stroke his balls.

"Buffy," he sighed. In the last week her hands and her mouth had become amazingly skillful. Not that they'd been clumsy before. But every time he had had the barest hint of an erection, her hands, her mouth, or both and affixed themselves to his dick. His orgasm had become their mutual drug, their painkiller. For Buffy it eased her guilt. For him it dulled his physical pain. Allowed him to think about something other than his condition. For a little while.

Much to his surprise, her hand stopped, and she looked up at him. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure pet."

"Tell me about mating."

It was pretty much the last thing that he'd expected to hear. "That's not really a question."

"Okay. What does mating do? I know it's kind of like marriage, but, it does stuff to you right?"

He sighed. He could tell he wasn't getting out of this, "Yeah, it's kind of like being married, but it's forever, only death of the permanent variety can end it. It forms a bond. The couple, they can always tell where each other are, sense each others feelings, emotions. I've even heard that in some cases they share dreams. But I don't really know. It's pretty rare. I've only ever seen a few mated vampires."

"But, it's a monogamous thing right?"

"Oh, yeah. I don't think it's possible to for a mated vampire to cheat. You scared that I'm going to hook up with someone else?"

"Actually I wasn't so much thinking about the sex, but you know other stuff. I mean if, hypothetically speaking of course, we were mated, I would never allow another vampire to bite me right?"

There was no way he could hide his excitement at the idea. If it wasn't apparent in his face, his dick, which had slowly been coming to life, now sprang to full attention. Still whatever that part of him thought, his head and his heart were not so sure.

"I don't know pet. Maybe. It happens, vampires mating with humans, but it's always a prelude to turning them. But yeah, mating, it leaves a mark, one that vampires can feel. They would be reluctant to bite you. I suppose they'd just try to kill you in other ways. But I don't know. I've never heard of anything like what you're suggesting."

"Look Spike. About what you said back in L.A., I think you're wrong. Yeah, I want you to bite me. But I'd never ever let another vamp bite me. And yeah I get off on it. I admit it okay. Biting, one of Buffy's turn-ons. Which means if we were mated, I'd definitely never let any one else bite me. I mean, it would be like having them go down on me. You know?" she had decided to reinforce her argument by the unfair means of curling her fingers around his dick.

He closed his eyes and thought about it. He had to admit, that she might be right. But he was so scared that this own greedy desire for her was interfering with his judgment. He couldn't help but remember the taste of her blood, how strong and hard it made him feel. He imagined what the sex would be like, the way she'd cum when his fangs sank into her neck, how he'd finally be able to keep up with her. What it would be like to have her lying underneath him, completely exhausted, fully sated. He'd always suspected that she could have always gone a little farther, that despite his best efforts he'd never left her completely satisfied. Not that he thought anyone else had ever done any better.

Still, was this really what was best for Buffy. It seemed too easy a solution to their problems. And what if she came to resent him? Could she really commit to him for the rest of her life? Not to mention the one thing they had not talked about since leaving L.A.

"What about Angel?" his voice was quiet.

"He's dead. And even if he wasn't. . . I think maybe you were right, maybe I didn't know him at all. I keep waiting. Waiting to cry. I do miss him. I think about never seeing him again and I'm sad. But I don't cry. I didn't even cry when he came through Sunnydale that last time. He always used to make me cry. Every time we saw each other after we broke up, I would secretly cry for days. I think I just finally ran out of tears for Angel.

"Besides. I love you Spike. I know I haven't been big with the saying of it. But I do. When I thought I'd lost you again. When I thought that dust was you. I've never hurt that much. Not even when I sent Angel to hell.

"This isn't just about sex. It's not about how you can do things to my body that no one else can, though hey, you get a big check in the plus column for that. It's about all the other things you can do that no one else can. You can tell when I'm lying, even when I don't know. You don't let me get away with anything. You make me feel like it's okay to be me. You never make me feel bad about being strong, and you never get angry with me for being weak. You've been there for me when no one else was. I love you Spike, and yeah, I'm willing to spend the rest of my life with you. So the question is really, do you want me?"

"Don't be daft, we both know that's not in question. I love you with everything I am. But, Buffy," he said, trying to maintain some semblance of reason when every part of his being just wanted to say yes, and damn the consequences, "We can't be mated. At least not now. If we were, you'd feel what I'm feeling, you'd share in my pain."

"Silly vampire," she said, kissing him just below the navel. "Do you think I don't share in your pain now? Besides, my blood would heal you much faster. You'd probably be all patched up in a couple days."

It shamed him to admit it. But that was a huge selling point. Not that he didn't want the mating for everything else it entailed. But to have Buffy's blood, to be whole again after so long. And all he would have to do was share his agony with her for a couple days.

"I don't want to hurt you, even for a short time."

"If we wait, you probably won't be healed when we get to Hong Kong next week. And then I'll be stuck on this ship with you, complaining about all the shopping opportunities I'm missing." She smiled, "I can take the pain. I want to share your pain. I'm not taking this lightly Spike. I've been thinking about it for a while now. I want to share everything with you, good and bad. You know, the whole in sickness and in health deal?"

"I don't know if we can pet. I have to actually be biting you while we have sex, which isn't that easy for me right now."

"Hey, I told you I'd been thinking about it." She got up off the bed and went over to her suitcase. She pulled out a hair tie and carefully twisted all of her hair into a bun on one side of her head. They had learned early on that her soft hair felt like barbed wire when it passed over his exposed nerves. "Sit on your heels," she told him.

He did as she said. Then she got back on the bed and straddled him, careful not to come into contact with any of his injured skin. She held him by the waist and lowered herself on to him. He gasped in pleasure as he was once gain plunged into her warm depths. The desire to grab her hips was overwhelming but he knew that would only cause him pain. Instead he focused on her exposed neck.

To his surprise shifting to his vampiric visage didn't hurt. Or maybe he was just too distracted.

She hadn't moved on him, she was waiting for the bite, so that she wouldn't accidentally bump him. However, it was obviously difficult, he could feel her trembling pussy twitch about him.

His fangs sank deep into her neck. The first hint of her hot blood teased his tongue. Buffy screamed, half in pleasure, half in pain. Her own fingers dug deep into his flanks, her nails drew blood.

She began moving against him slowly. It surprised him, her lust for his bite had been so great that he expected her to ride him hard. Instead she slid slowly up and down his length as if her pussy was trying to press every inch of him into some fleshy memory.

Her first orgasm came when he pulled his fangs out of her throat and let the blood flow freely. She screamed again, and her body constricted around him. Now the full force of her blood was in him. It blocked out everything that was not Buffy including the pain in his arms. His injuries forgotten he grabbed her hips so that he could better thrust into her as he rode out her orgasm.

A moment after the crest of her orgasm had passed he began to suck gently at the wound, careful to only take a tiny amount with each suck. With every pull of his mouth Buffy cried out and her inner muscles contracted. She began to match the rhythm of their love making to rhythm of his sucking.

Soon the saccade of her breathing told him that her second orgasm was approaching. He sliced his tongue on his fangs. As she came again he licked her wound, mixing their blood.

This time her orgasm carried him with her. His mouth fell away from her neck and they cried out in unison, "MINE!" as she milked every inch of his cock.

As the world came back into focus for both of them, they each found themselves drawn to each others eyes. Buffy released the hold she had on his ass, and brought her fingers up to his face. His blood coated her nails. Without breaking eye contact he sucked each finger in turn.

Finally, exhausted she slid off of him, and they lay down together her head resting lightly on his chest. Soon she was asleep.

****************************

He slept for several hours. He awoke to find Buffy now lay with her back to him but every inch of that gorgeous back was pressed against him. He reached out to brush away her hair, then stopped as his hand came into view.

The blisters were all gone. The skin on his arm was still tender and it was pinker than was normal for a vampire, but those were minor inconveniences after the past few weeks. He wiggled his fingers and found that most of the pain there was gone as well, they were still stiff, and he guessed that nothing but time would restore his full dexterity, but time he had.

The more he thought about it, the less surprised he was. He was only just beginning to appreciate how strong Buffy's blood really was. He never should have survived that fight with Angel. Realistically he probably shouldn't have even been able to defeat Angel when they had fought in Death Valley over a that stupid cup of Mountain Dew. But he'd always been tougher than a vampire his age had any right to be.

No, that wasn't true. He hadn't always been that tough. No, it had started that night in China over a hundred years ago. The night he'd drained that poor young Slayer. Her blood had changed him. He'd always known it to some degree. The strength that came with Slayer blood was impossible to miss, but that wore off. After that night he'd never lost a fight until he'd come up against Buffy Summers. And he and Dru had pissed off some powerful vampires in their time. He thought about those battles now. Every time he'd been outclassed he'd won by outlasting his opponent. By being able to take every blow they could dish out and shrug them off.

He should never have survived that battle with Angel, they should have burnt up together when they crashed through the balcony door into the harsh sunlight. But the flames had spread over his body slower. Still strong with Buffy's blood he had stumbled, rolled, and then crawled out of the sunlight and into the cool darkness of the bathroom.

And it had all started that night in China when he'd first tasted Slayer's blood, when he'd first started to change, but into what?

Buffy stirred in her sleep, and he knew that his thoughts were somehow troubling her dreams. He smiled and curled his body around hers, breathing in the scent of her. Whatever doubts he'd had about her feelings, they were all gone now. The new bond between them didn't allow them. Her love filled him and warmed him from the inside as he hoped his love warmed her.

He brushed back her hair, and admired the wound he had left on her neck. It was a vicious looking wound surrounded by a brilliant purple bruise that covered that whole side of her neck. Then he noticed to his absolute delight, that the other scars had vanished from her neck. All the marks others had left on her were gone. She was completely his.

The End