Chapter 29:

Things had gone perfectly. The lady from Wolfram & Hart, Lilah, had been right about everything.

The hotel had been empty when Spike had gotten there. He'd gone straight to the office and cracked the safe easily. Vampire hearing had many advantages, the ability to hear the tumblers in a lock was just one.

After he'd grabbed the scroll, he'd made sure to rummage around the office a bit. Leave his scent all over the stuff on the desk. That way Angel would figure he was just snooping. Not that there was anything worth snooping into. It was all billing and ledgers. Boring business stuff, although there were a couple of occult books on the shelf that Spike thought might fetch a pretty penny.

However, Spike didn't need the money, and he knew nothing ruined a capper quicker than getting overly greedy. Get in; get out. That was the rule.

The lorry was waiting for him, and inside was a tiny hospital, just like he'd been promised. He was a bit nervous, letting people cut into his skull, but they did what they promised. He shoved one of the human doctors on the way out just to be sure.

It took every ounce of evil in Spike to keep him from skipping and whistling down the street once he left the lorry.

He reentered the hotel and found Buffy asleep on the ottoman, curled around the center. He knelt down in front of her and watched her sleeping form. So beautiful, so fragile, so delicate. When she was asleep it was hard to imagine all the strength her slight frame contained, all the pain.

As carefully as he could, he lifted her up into his arms. He followed the trail she'd left earlier in the day to the room she'd taken for her own, and put her stuff in. Gently he laid her down on the bed.

As he set her head down on the pillow, her eyes fluttered open. "You came back." She sounded surprised.

"Told you I would. Have you been in the sewers?"

"Do I smell?" she sat up and tried to sniff herself. "I smell, don't I?"

"No, not at all."

"Liar." She took one of his hands in hers and ran her thumb over the back of his hand. "Is tomorrow night good?"

"For what?"

"You said you'd take me out. I got tickets; tomorrow at 5:00."

"What sort of show starts at five?"

"It's a surprise. Don't you trust me?" she gave him a wicked grin. Then her face became serious. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" he couldn't seem to get a finger on her mood.

"For earlier, for freaking out. I. . . I didn't know about all that claiming stuff and. . . well. . . I AM the Slayer. It was just an instinct thing, you know?"

"I know a thing or two about that. It's okay, pet." Part of him wanted to give her a hard time, but mostly he was just so surprised by the whole turn of events that he figured he should just go with it. "What brought all this on, anyhow?"

"Let's just say, a day in the sewer gives a girl a new perspective on her love life."

"Gee thanks."

"That's not what. . . I need to shower and sleep. Go away while we still like each other," she joked.

He nodded, kissed her on the forehead, and left to find a room as far away from Angel's as possible.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

It had been a long and very boring day. Angel hadn't come back and the sun was up. Spike had nothing to do but watch his minions scurry about, trying to suss out why Wolfram & Hart had brought Darla back. That might have been somewhat entertaining, but Buffy was worried too. She paced back and forth over the hotel lobby, coming up with all the things that might have happened.

Finally, Spike had offered to take Buffy through the sewers to look for the missing Poof, but she'd said something about having seen enough of L.A.'s sewers to last a life time, and gone on pacing.

Around three thirty he had to stop her in her pacing and remind her they were supposed to be going out.

"But Angel isn't-"

He put a finger to her lips.

"He's a big boy. He'll be fine. Bet you anything that five minutes after sundown he strolls right through those doors. Besides, thought you were looking forward to tonight? Got tickets and everything. You wouldn't want to miss out on whatever torture you've set up for me, eh?"

She smiled at that, and went to get dressed. He did the same. He was wrong, though, it wasn't five minutes after sundown that Angel came back. It was fifteen.

Spike was hanging out down by the front desk - trying not to be self conscious in his tuxedo as Gunn made fun of him - when Angel brooded his way through the door.

Angel was half way up the stairs when he noticed that instead of his leather duster, Spike was wearing a long black overcoat coving his tux. Angel just stared for a moment, shrugged, and turned to go back upstairs.

As if the angel of bad timing was watching over them, Buffy chose that moment to make her appearance. She wore a red silk dress with a v-neck that Spike thought displayed her cleavage to its full advantage. It didn't have sleeves, instead two large straps continued the 'v' of the neck, settled just off her shoulders.

The skirt was belted with a red sash and hung down to her knees. The bottom hem wasn't quite straight though, and the slight ruffle made the skirt look like an upside down rose bud. It was the sort of dress that just begged you to run your hands over all the lovely curves of the girl wearing it.

Buffy had fully done herself up. She almost always wore makeup, but Spike thought she might have taken extra care this time. Her full lips had been colored to match the dress; she had just the slightest blush to her cheeks, and just a hint of eye shadow to bring out her emerald eyes.

She had put her hair up, too, into a french twist revealing the graceful sweep of her neck. Her bare neck called to him. He wondered if she had any idea that she was all but wearing a 'bite me' sign. She was every vampires fantasy. The most beautiful delectable thing Spike had ever seen.

That's when it occurred to him for the first time. He could bite again. No more chip. If he wanted he could take Buffy out back and drain her dry. He wouldn't of course. He would never hurt her. As desperate as he was to taste her blood, he vowed to himself that his fangs would never again touch her unless she asked for them.

But that wasn't the point. All day long he'd listened to that Cordelia girl whine and complain about this that and the other, and he'd never thought of biting her - and she was a fairly bitable creature. He could now easily snap Wesley and Gunn's necks, but he'd never even considered using violence against them. He hadn't even thought of picking off an innocent bystander. Nothing stood between him and the bloodshed he'd so loved, yet he hadn't even considered killing anyone.

He was brought out of his thoughts by a growl from Angel, who'd stayed frozen on the stairs, looking up at Buffy. Spike became aware that Buffy's appearance had had a similar effect on every man in the room. He was willing to bet that they were all having similar fantasies about grabbing her by her hips, shoving her against a wall, and shagging her senseless. The difference was, Spike was the one who had a real hope of living out that fantasy.

She was dressed up for him, not for Angel, and he could tell that was driving Angel nuts.

She started down the stairs. As she passed Angel, he grabbed her elbow and growled at her, "Where do you think you're going?"

"Out. With Spike," she said coldly. She tried to move past him, but he still held her arm. "Let go."

When he didn't comply, she yanked her arm out of his grasp and then elbowed him in the stomach. He was so much taller than her, that she was forced to angle the blow upward, and it sent him backward over the railing of the stairs and crashing down to the floor.

A moment ago, Spike would not have thought he could have been more attracted to her. He was wrong. The effortless way she dealt with Angel reminded him that this tiny woman was the strongest, most dangerous person in the room. His fantasy changed to one of her throwing him to the ground, ripping off his clothes, and riding hard and fast.

He moved forward to meet her and offered her his hand to guide her down the last few steps. She smiled at him as she took it. He led her out toward the hotel entrance. Just as they got to the door, he looked back at where Angel was picking himself up off the floor.

"Don't wait up," Spike said.

Then he leaned over and kissed Buffy lightly on the neck. His lips barely grazed her skin, but even so, her heart sped up a little. He smirked at Angel over her shoulder. It was a symbolic gesture. Whenever Angelus had taken Drusilla away from Spike, he'd always bitten her neck to reinforce the fact that Dru belonged to him and not Spike.

Once they were outside he stopped and faced her.

"Where are my manners? You look. . . gorgeous doesn't even begin to describe it."

"Thanks," she said graciously. "You look pretty wonderful yourself."

She pinched the button flap of his shirt and ran the joints of her fingers down his chest. Her tongue peaked out from between her red lips, and her pupils dilated slightly. He could smell the beginnings of her arousal. Spike was suddenly filled with hope that she'd forget about the show and take him on the hood of his DeSoto. But then she took a step back.

"We're going to be late," she said with a touch of regret.

He held the car door open for her and helped her in.

When she gave him the address he asked her, "Are you sure that's right?"

She nodded, but suddenly she was very nervous.

"So what is it we're going to see, anyway?" When she didn't answer, he pushed a little harder. "Come on, pet. I'm about to find out anyway. Promise I won't turn the car around. I'm committed to. . . whatever it is you've chosen."

She took a deep breath, "Okay, you know how you told me about the oranges and stuff?" He nodded. "Well I thought. . . you see. . . It'stheiceshowokay?" she finished in one breath.

Not sure what to say, he just glanced at her and cocked an eyebrow.

"Look, it's not what you think. It's not just cartoon characters. Some of them are olympic athletes, and the things is. . . my dad. . . he used to take me when I was a kid, for my birthday. What you said about oranges, that's how I feel about the ice show. It was. . . it was our special thing. Even Dawn only came one time, but she was scared by the giant mouse and. . . "

"Dawn?" he asked.

"You know, Dawn? My bratty kid sister."

"Right. Of course. Thought you said something else."

'Bugger,' he thought. 'They messed up my brain digging that chip out.' How could he have forgotten about the 'bit?

"So anyway, I thought. . . I wanted to share something from my childhood with you. You know, something special. You're not mad are you?"

"No, luv. I'm not mad."

Actually he was rather - thrilled wasn't the right word - but happy that she would choose to share something personal with him. Bring him in on one of her private rituals. And he figured he could survive this, and her birthday wasn't until January, so he'd have about four months until he'd have to endure this again.

Chapter 30:

A/N My website has moved. It's now at http://www.dark-desire.org/ld/ Thanks to Mandi for hosting me and making me a lovely new banner.

Buffy couldn't remember the last time she'd had this much fun. She'd been nervous about bringing Spike to the ice show, afraid he wouldn't understand. But he seemed to. Plus, she'd really missed going on her last birthday.

She watched the skaters dance on the ice and remembered long abandoned dreams of being a professional ice skater herself.

She shivered a little; she should have brought a coat, but she hadn't thought of it. Spike slipped his overcoat off and draped it over the both of them. He put one arm around her waist, and drew her in closer. His other hand rested lightly between her knees.

"Hey. Cold," she protested, quietly.

"Trying to warm up."

Buffy figured since he was sharing his coat with her, she could share some of her body heat with him. His hand rested there for several minutes, slowly becoming warm again. Then it began to slide up her leg.

"Hey," she hissed at him, trying not to draw attention.

The tips of his fingers traced a circle on the crotch of her panties.

"You can't do that here," she whispered sternly.

"Just watch the show, pet. No one will know."

She swallowed hard. Torn between wanting him to touch her more, and fear of being discovered. Since she couldn't think of a way to make him stop that wouldn't cause a scene, she resigned herself to letting him play with her.

After tracing her outlines, his fingers moved inside her panties and began to explore her folds. He moved from her outer folds and circled inward until finally, two of his fingers dipped inside of her.

His touch was slow and gentle as he moved his fingers in an out of her. Time seemed to slow down. For an eternity he seemed to move in and out of her, although it was probably only a few minutes. Then his thumb played lightly over her clit.

There was a slow languorous build, as her body became more and more sensitized to his touch. It was driving her a little crazy. She wanted him to touch her harder, but knew he couldn't without giving away what they were doing. Her hand gripped his leg tightly, the only outlet she could allow herself.

She tried to ignore him, to concentrate on the show, but his fingers kept drawing her back. Her eyes were on the skaters, but she wasn't seeing them. Instead she saw herself straddling Spike. It wasn't his fingers inside of her, it was his cock.

The fantasy played itself out before her eyes, building with the sensation of Spike moving in and out of her. She'd never been pleasured this slowly before. The slow build was agonizing and there was no surprise when her orgasm hit, so she had more than enough warning to bite her lip to keep herself from crying out.

It certainly wasn't the most intense orgasm she'd ever had, but having one in the middle of all these people. Parents with their children. Getting away with it in front of all of them caused a certain wicked excitement that she told herself she shouldn't love - but she did.

There was only one thing to do.

"You are so going to get it," she whispered in Spike's ear.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

He was in trouble. Deep, deep trouble. He knew it.

What had he been thinking, fingering the Slayer in the middle of all the kiddies and their families? She was all righteousness and goodness and teddy bears and Christmas. No way she'd go in for that sort of thing, even if they had gotten away with it clean.

The intermission came, giving children an opportunity to whine their way into ownership of new toys the show had made them want.

Buffy grabbed his hand and led him out into the halls that surrounded the arena. She dragged him roughly, with purpose.

'Bugger,' he thought. 'She's not going to even let me finish watching the show before she dusts me.' On second thought he decided that that was really a kindness.

She led him to a door marked, 'Janitor'. She grabbed the handle and he heard a cracking sound as she broke the lock. She dragged him inside.

"Block the door," she ordered. "And give me your coat."

Hoping that complying would buy him some forgiveness, he handed her the coat he'd used to hide their less than wholesome activities. She set about folding the coat with the kind of ingenuity reserved for cartoon rabbits setting a trap for the hunter. Spike had never regretted being the hunter so much in his life.

"If you're not going to block the door, then at least stand in front of it," she told him.

When he did so, she put the folded bundle that was his coat on the floor in front of him. Then she knelt down on top of it. Before he could ask her what she was doing, her hands unzipped his fly and grabbed his cock.

Her cold hand held him as her hot tongue began to lick him. He groaned as he sprang to attention. Then her mouth was around him, engulfing him, sucking him. The sensation overwhelmed him, nearly knocking him over as his knees went weak.

"God Buffy, slow down," he begged her.

As much as he'd dreamed about it, he'd never really expected to have the Slayer on her knees in front of him. He wanted this to last.

She pulled back and for just a moment she gave him a pouty look.

Then her face lit up. "Tell me how you want it," she invited.

For a moment he was confused. Then he remembered their first night together, what seemed like a lifetime ago. That night had been all about experimentation. All about Buffy shedding her inexperience and trying out the things she'd been too scared to ask for. He supposed it shouldn't surprise him that she was inexperienced here as well. It wasn't as if a blowjob was necessarily the most intuitive thing. For the hundredth time, he was amazed at what an idiot soldier boy must have been. To have this amazing woman and never encourage her to try the full range of experiences.

"Hold it again, at the base," he told her. "Uhhh yeah, just like that. Stoke it a little. Now, lick the head."

She leaned forward and her tongue swirled around the tip of his cock. The contrast between her cool hands and her hot tongue was amazing. Then she began to trace the outline of his head with her tongue.

"Like that?" she asked.

He nodded, and looked down into her emerald eyes. They were wide and innocent and open. She looked so eager to please him; he thought that look alone might make him come.

"Suck it, just the tip though, baby."

She smiled, then the tip of his cock passed though those ruby red lips. Her hand slowly, lazily stroked him as she sucked lightly. Her tongue pressed against the top, and he trembled.

Then her mouth released him again.

"Can I have more?" she asked.

He was completely without will. He could deny her nothing. He just had to get his cock back in her mouth.

"Yeah, take it. Whatever you want."

Her mouth was back on him, and slowly she took more and more of him. She began to pull him in and out of her mouth, her hand mimicking the action. The sensation as his cock passed from the heat of her mouth into her cool hands was incredible.

Then he remembered that he was supposed to be telling her what he wanted.

"My balls. . ." his voice trailed off into a deep moan.

He had meant to ask her to hold his balls, but she misunderstood and instead released his cock, and began to lick his balls. His knees nearly buckled.

"God! Yes! Like that baby. So good."

After she had thoroughly licked his balls, she went back to sucking his cock. She squeezed his cock with one hand, while the thumb of her other hand caressed his balls. He was quickly moving past any point of control.

He reached down, trying to pull her back, "That's enough, pet," he moaned.

But Buffy was either being stubborn or didn't understand what he was trying to tell her. Her mouth kept working his cock.

"Buffy. . . luv. . . can't hold. . . back. Gonnaaaaaaaaaaa. . ."

He blacked out as he came in her mouth. There was a rattling sound as his back hit the door he was leaning against.

"Fuck. . . Buffy. . . " Even though he didn't breathe, he felt like he had to catch his breath.

As his mind slowly turned back on, he watched her get up, open her purse, and pull out her lipstick and compact. Clumsily he rezipped his fly. Then he moved in on her. He put his hands on her waist and drew her close to kiss her.

"Hey," she protested, and stopped him. "Lipstick."

"Sorry," Spike said reflexively, without being sure what he was apologizing for.

"It's okay. I just, I don't want to go out there looking like I just did. . . what I just did." She stopped fiddling with her makeup to look up at him through her lashes. "It was good, wasn't it?"

He relaxed. She wasn't mad at him for coming in her mouth. She was just being Buffy. Worried about appearances as always. He didn't care if she had to present her good little girl side in public, as long as he got another chance with her in private.

"It was fantastic. Bloody amazing," he nuzzled her neck. As his lips grabbed her earlobe he pulled back and said, "Pearls!"

"Huh?" she gave him a blank look. "Wow. I must be good. I broke you're brain."

"You need pearls. A string of pearls for your neck, and those little dangly earrings. Ever girl should have pearls."

"You really want to get me something?"

He nodded.

"I'd kind of like a soda."

He laughed. "Of course, pet."

He picked up his coat, dusted it off, and they snuck out of the janitor's closet. Luckily the intermission was long so that parents had plenty of time to take their children to the bathroom and buy them plenty of toys and treats.

He grumbled as he forked over the three and a half dollars for the soda.

Buffy laughed at him. "You take me out to fancy restaurants, talk about getting me pearls, and you complain about a three dollar soda?"

"There isn't three dollars of soda in there. It's all ice."

She laughed again. "I didn't know you were so cheap."

"I'm not cheap." How could she say that? Angel was cheap. Angel would run out into the noon day sun to pick a dime off the sidewalk. Spike just preferred to get his money's worth. If he was spending and not stealing, that is. "Tell you what. After the show, let's say you and me go to a fancy hotel and we'll get room service - have ourselves a right proper time. Get you some champagne to drink instead of that watered down syrup."

Her eyes lit up and he could see she liked the idea. "Oh, I like champagne." Then she smiled mischievously at him. "Aren't you afraid I might get drunk? You wouldn't want to have to send me home rather than take advantage of me."

He chuckled. "The champagne's not for you to drink." He leaned over and whispered in her ear. "It's for me to lick off of you."

She blushed. Even in the mass of bodies around them, Spike could feel her heartbeat pick up at the idea.

"Spike, you're such a- Dad?"

Spike blinked in confusion, not just at her words, but at the way the strong, confidant, sexy woman he'd had in his arms vanished. Instead, there was an insecure frightened girl. He followed her gaze to see a middle aged man with sandy blond hair standing there looking at them. He wasn't alone, but held the hand of a very young boy. The boy in turn held the hand of a beautiful dark haired woman - obviously his mother - who was no more than a handful of years older than Buffy.

Chapter 31:

Spike knocked on the door of Hank Summers' house.

When the Summers' patriarch answered the door, Spike introduced himself, "Hello, sir. I'm William. We met earlier tonight at the ice show. I wanted to talk to you about my intentions toward Buffy. May I come in?"

Spike had reverted back to the more distinguished accent of his human days. He knew how to charm and seem respectable when he had to. Hank Summers might be uncomfortable with his eldest's beau on his doorstep, but he invited the smiling young gentleman in.

As the magical barrier vanished, and Spike stepped over the threshold, his smile broadened. Mr. Summers was too old for Spike's tastes - he'd always been a veal man - but you could never underestimate the fun that could be had with common household appliances.

Spike vamped and dragged the screaming man into the kitchen and towards the garbage disposal.

Buffy's sobbing brought him out of his fantasy. He reached down to stroke her hair.

"There, there, pet. S'okay," he murmured.

He moved his hand forward and carefully down shifted as he approached a stoplight. Buffy was stretched across the front seat of his DeSoto, her head in his lap. She gripped his leg as she sobbed, seeking comfort from him.

The run in with her father had been brief. There were awkward, introductions. Turned out the woman Hank Summers had with him was his secretary whom Buffy had met years before. Mr. Summers lied about taking his secretaries kid out, pretending it was just a favor for a friend. Pretending she wasn't his lover. Then he politely asked about Joyce and Dawn.

Through the whole encounter Buffy smiled, but the smile was a lie. The moment they parted ways with her father, she collapsed into Spike. With no desire to stay at the ice show anymore, they had left.

Spike parked the car.

"Buffy? Luv?"

She looked up at him, her face streaked with mascara and tears.

"Here now," he said gently. He licked his thumb and tried to clean up her face.

"I look awful," she sniffled.

"Nah, you look pretty as always, just a little smudged."

"Liar." She gave him a little smile, then pulled out her compact and some tissues and set about trying to fix up her face.

He got out of the DeSoto and walked around the car to open her door. She looked at him with a bit of surprise when he offered her his hand.

"What are we doing?" she asked.

"Emergency stop," he told her. "Come on."

Curious, she took his hand and followed him. He led her down an alley.

"Spike, I'm not up for slaying. Not dressed for it either."

"Too bad. Killing something might do you some good. But that's not what we're here for."

He opened a door under a small sign that read, 'Cafe Mars' and led her down the stairs into the dimly lit room.

Old posters from the twenties were the only remnant of the speakeasy that the place had been the first time Spike had come to L.A. Since then the place had changed hands a couple of times. The decor hadn't changed much since the 50's though, when it had been a beatnik coffee shop.

"Chocolate here isn't as good as your mum's, but still should fix you up," he told her as he led her to the bar.

She smiled gratefully at him. Then her eyes alighted on a chocolate cake displayed in a glass case on top of the bar.

"Two cups of hot chocolate," he ordered. "You want anything else?"

She nodded and bit her lower lip. Childlike she pointed at the cake.

"A slice of cake, too."

Once they had their drinks and cake, Spike led her upstairs. The place had a few regular tables and chairs, but mostly the walls were lined with beat up couches. No two matched, nor did any of the other tables and chairs. A couple of the tables had small chessboards set up on them, abandoned at various stages in the game. Some of them had coins in the place of pieces. It was beat up, run down, and that gave it a special class. Made you feel like you were part of the in crowd for having found it.

They sat down on one of the couches. Buffy curled up against him, tucking her legs under herself, and resting her cake on the side of her leg. She blew on her coffee and for a while they sat in comfortable silence.

"It was our thing. You know?" she asked suddenly.

"Yeah, I know." He gently stroked her arm.

"It's like. . . I haven't seen him in more than a year and now. . . it's like he has a whole new family. Like we weren't good enough."

"Maybe it's just the opposite."

"Huh?"

"You're mum. She's an amazing woman. Don't know how any fellow could leave her. So maybe. . . maybe it's hard for him to look at you and Dawn. You're so like her. So beautiful, so strong. Maybe he can't take looking at what he lost."

She took a bite of her cake, and made a yummy sound.

"That's sweat. But it's total crap, you know?" she told him.

"Best I could come up with on short notice. You know I'm the wrong bloke to talk to about infidelity? Never strayed from Dru once. Hell, I didn't even cheat on Harmony, and I could barely stand her."

"So you think he cheated. That they were together before the divorce."

Spike shifted uncomfortably. He didn't think; he knew. He and Joyce had often commiserated about their wayward exes, and she had told him about Hank's affair with his secretary. But that had been told to him in confidence. He knew Joyce wouldn't want him divulging that to her daughter. At the same time, he didn't want to lie to Buffy.

"Maybe. . ." he said noncommittally.

"No, what do you think? Tell me please."

He sighed. A lie by omission was one thing, but he couldn't lie outright to her.

"Yeah."

She nodded, and put her cocoa down on the coffee table in front of the couch.

"Oh my god, that boy. You don't think he's my. . ."

That stunned Spike. It hadn't occurred to him. Children and pregnancies were not a part of a vampire's life. They hadn't really been part of his mortal life either. As a naive member of Victorian society he'd certainly had many misconceptions about the subject.

"I don't know. Do you really think he'd keep a kid secret?"

"Maybe. . . I, the older I get, the more I feel I don't know who my dad is. When they first got the divorce, I thought. . . I just thought they didn't get along anymore. They fought a lot, but it was always about stupid, little stuff."

"You're mum, she wanted to spare you and Dawn. Would it have been better if you knew?"

"No, I guess not. I just. . ." she drifted off into her thoughts and munched on more of her cake.

He wished he could think of something to distract her. Someway to make her hurt less. To make her not care about what some bleeding wanker thought or felt. Buffy's infinite curiosity, however, provided a new topic of conversation.

"Wait a minute," she said putting down her chocolate and turning to look at him. "If you were completely faithful to both Drusilla and Harmony, how many women have you slept with?"

"None of your business."

"Oh come on, you know how many guys I've been with."

He looked into her face. Being nosey seemed to cheer her up. Although he was somewhat afraid of what she might think of his answer, he also wanted to keep her mind from more unpleasant subjects.

"Including you?" he asked.

"Uh-huh."

He closed his eyes. There was no way he could look at her and answer. "Three," he whispered.

"What?!" she squeaked. "No way!" He nodded. "Oh my god! I'm such a slut. You're like a hundred and fifty, and I'm not even twenty and I've been with more people than you."

"Don't be silly, pet. You're not a slut. You're just easy," he teased.

She wrinkled her nose at him, and hit him playfully on the chest. Then her eyes went wide.

"Does that mean you were a virgin when you died?"

Spike shifted uncomfortably. He was starting to wonder if distracting her from being upset was really worth it.

"Look, things were different back then. No respectable woman had sex before she was married and-"

"So I'm not respectable?"

"I didn't say that. Back then. . . Look, it was an awful time." He was getting defensive. "I wasn't married, never been to a whore, and didn't force the maids to fuck me. So yeah, I was a virgin, all right?"

She scooted up onto his lap and rested her head against his chest.

"It's okay, you know. I think it's kind of sweet."

"'M not sweet."

She kissed his neck, her tongue emerging from between her red lips, to lick him.

"I think you are," she murmured, tickling him with her breath. "I think you're lickable."

He started to position her over his growing erection when she pulled back a little.

"I'll be right back," she told him as she grabbed her purse and headed toward the bathroom.

He watched as she swished away toward the bathroom. He took a swallow of his chocolate and reflected that things were beginning to look up again, when a familiar scent drifted by.

"My, isn't she a sweat little thing?" said a woman's voice.

"Maria," Spike noted. "You really shouldn't be here," he told the vampiress as she sat down next to him.
 

Chapter 32

Buffy exited the bathroom stall and looked at her face in the mirror. She really was a mess. Mascara and eyeliner streaked her face. Spike's attempt to clean off her face had only spread the black streaks left and right.

She took some hand towels from the dispenser and began to clean herself up. She felt a little silly. Why should it have mattered that her father had taken some other kid to the ice show? He'd left her life years before. He'd missed weekends, birthdays, graduation, and Christmases. The first year after they'd moved to Sunnydale, she and Dawn had spent the summer with him. But since then they hadn't spent much time with him.

It wasn't fair that he could be so small a part of her life, and still hurt her so much.

At least she had Spike to hold on to. He must think her the biggest cry baby. How many times in the last month or so had she ended up crying in his arms? And every time when she was done crying, she felt better. Felt like she'd been purged of some of her fear or grief.

It made her almost regret the blowjob she'd given him earlier. She wanted some way to pay him back for being so patient with her. For taking such good care of her. She could go down on him again, but that seemed to lack originality.

She laughed. She'd forgotten this was Spike she was thinking about. She could just ask him what he wanted. He wasn't like Riley who saw sex as something to be done, but not talked about. She would have to thank him for telling her how to blow him. For the first time she hadn't felt clumsy and unsure. On the other hand, maybe she should also let him know that she wasn't big on swallowing. She'd wanted to try it, to find out what it was like. It wasn't bad. . . she just didn't want to be expected to do it every time. She smiled knowing that she could tell him that. It would embarrass her, she would probably blush, but she could tell him, and it would be okay.

That's when she realized Spike wasn't okay. Her vampire detecting senses had been steadily becoming more and more attuned to Spike with every encounter. She was no longer just aware of his location but had begun to be sensitive to his moods as well. At first she just thought she was picking up on his body language, but right now, when she couldn't see him, there was no denying that some sort of deeper connection was growing between them.

Spike was upset and agitated. Buffy stuffed her makeup back in her purse and hurried out of the bathroom. Although she hoped that it was nothing more than him being slightly upset at her for teasing him then walking off, knowing Spike he was probably in deep trouble in the five minutes she'd been gone.

As soon as she walked through the bathroom door, her eyes narrowed as she saw the elegant slut that was obviously putting the moves on her vampire. Buffy's senses left her with no doubt that the woman was a vampire so before returning to Spike, Buffy detoured toward napkins, sugar packs, and other coffee supplies left out on a table for the patrons convenience. Buffy found a wooden stirring stick and palmed it.

Then she headed straight for Spike and the slut who now had a hand on Spike's knee. There was a part of Buffy that was almost disappointed that Spike wasn't responding to the female vamp's advances. It would make life easier if she didn't live in a world where her fully souled father could cheat on her mother and leave, while an evil soulless vampire could be the paragon of faithfulness. But there could be no doubt that Spike wasn't at all interested in the vamp, and was starting to get angry that she wasn't leaving him alone.

"Hi there," Buffy said sweetly as she approached the undead couple. "I guess you've met Spike," she offered as she lifted the vamp's hand off of Spike's knee.

Buffy then sat in Spike's lap, draping her self over him. Her hand that held the coffee stirrer snaked around his neck, and she gently dragged the wooden tip over his skin so that he would know she was armed.

Spike looked at her, cocking an eyebrow as if daring her to try and stake the vampire with the glorified toothpick.

"Isn't she a pushy little blood doll?" the vampiress said looking at the scars on Buffy's neck and misunderstanding their relevance. "Or do you have longer term plans for this one?"

Spike growled and put a protective arm around her. Buffy could feel his entire body tense under her and she wondered why the woman's words had upset him so much. Sure slutty slutterella had drawn the wrong conclusion, but it was the most obvious one. Of all the vampires in the world, Spike had to be the least likely to have a Slayer sitting on his lap - considering he'd killed two.

The female vamp just laughed at Spike's reaction.

"Come on, Spike? Why not share? It'll be fun," she offered and put her hand on Buffy's knee.

Buffy's eyes went wide and she couldn't help but left forth an, "Eeew."

Sure her best friend was gay, but Buffy had a suspicion that what the very forward vampire wanted was less a menage a trois, and more like treating Buffy as a milkshake with two straws before she and Spike fucked. Besides, Buffy had never been big on sharing.

"Maria," Spike warned, but it was too late. Buffy had decided to act. She passed the wooden stick from her left to her right hand and jabbed it through Maria's chest. With perfect precision, she missed all of Maria's ribs, and managed to get enough of the now splintered wood into the vampire's heart. Maria exploded into a cloud of dust.

"Oh crap," Buffy said.

Spike looked at her questioningly.

"She dusted all over my coco and cake," Buffy pouted.

"I'll get you some more," Spike promised.

"That's okay," Buffy sighed. "Maybe we should go somewhere more private anyway."

He smiled at her as she got up. "Sounds good to me pet. I know just the place."

"Why am I not surprised?" Buffy said.

Then the absurdity of the question hit her. Only a week ago she would have been surprised. She would never have believed that Spike would know the right places to go, or to wear, or to say. Now she was perfectly comfortable with suave Spike.

Spike on the other hand wasn't comfortable. She could see where he was holding all his tension in his shoulders. Something was obviously bothering him. They got back into his car, but before she could ask him what was bothering him, he spoke.

"You know I'd never do it, right?"

"Do. . ?"

"Turn you."

"Oh." This was a conversation Buffy didn't really want to have.

"I mean it," Spike insisted. "You believe me, don't you?"

"Sure, I mean, I'm not sure I'd want to spend eternity with me either," she joked hoping to divert him from the subject.

"It's not that, I. . . I can't stand the thought of losing you." Suddenly he pulled the car over. He took Buffy's face in his hand and looked her straight in the eyes. "I love you."

"Oh."

It was a horrible response, Buffy knew. But she was caught completely off guard. Not ready for any of this, and not really sure which way the conversation was going. All she knew was that Spike had something on his mind, and wasn't going to be happy until he said it.

She bit the bullet. "So why wouldn't you turn me then?"

A look of confusion crossed Spike's face, as if he didn't know the answer either. Then he started to speak, slowly, hesitantly as if he was only figuring it all out as he spoke.

"I wanted to; thought about it. Before today. I've known for a while now how I felt about you. All the ways I wanted you. I wanted. . ." he laughed. "Fuck, I don't know how many times I imagined you on your knees, the way you were earlier. And in those fantasies, I had turned you, because I couldn't imagine you doing that any other way. I never thought you'd. . . It's like this; you're this amazing strong woman, and when you chose to suck my cock, it meant. . . it meant there must be something about me, you know? If I turned you, I could have anything from you I wanted, use you any way I like, but it would never be pure. I'd always wonder, always think you'd be doing it cause I was your Sire and you didn't have a real choice."

Buffy sat there thinking over his words for a minute. Trust Spike to be able to romance her and creep her out all at once. She didn't know how to respond to him, so she took advantage of the fact that they were now in a serious relationship talk.

"So what about the claiming? I researched it and. . . well I can't imagine why you'd want to claim me. I mean, I'm the Slayer. It's not like other vampires are going to lay off on me because you sank your fangs into me." He started to protest but she kept going. "That's not really the point, I know. The point is, I'm going to die. Probably soon. Probably painfully. I mean, I never expected to make it thought high school, and college? I go because I have to pretend. It would just be too awful to. . . I don't think I could go on if I didn't at least act like I had a future. But I don't. I know that. And if you claimed you, you'd share in all of that."

"Why do you think I want to claim you, you silly bint?" he teased her gently and ran his thumb over her cheek. "You think I don't know death is on your heels, baby, and sooner or later it's gonna catch you?" he said sadly. "And part of you wants it. . . not only to stop the fear and uncertainty, but because you're just a little bit in love with it."

Buffy tried to look away from him, hurt at his words, but he wouldn't let her.

"Death is your art," he insisted. "You make it with your hands, day after day. That final gasp. That look of peace. Part of you is desperate to know: What's it like? Where does it lead you? And now you see, that's the secret." He closed his eyes for a minute, as if ashamed. "That's how I killed two Slayers. Every Slayer. . . has a death wish. Even you. The only reason you've lasted as long as you have is you've got ties to the world. . . your mum, your brat kid sister, the Scoobies. They all tie you here. That's why I want to claim you. To tie you down so you don't escape, least not anytime soon."

Tears were running down her face. She knew Spike well enough to know he believed every word he had just said, even if she couldn't accept them.

He wiped away her tears. "Every fella wants to protect his bird. It's some sodding cave man instinct I suppose. I may be handy to you in a fight, but I know you don't really need me to protect you with my fists and fangs. But this way I can. . . can protect your heart, if you'll let me."

Her only answer was to lean over and kiss him gently on the lips; feeling for the first time in her life what it meant to belong.
 

Chapter 33:

A/N: Due to computer problems I won’t bore you with, I lost my e-mail address book. If you were on my list of people who were getting update notifications e-mailed to you, please e-mail me again so I can reconstruct the list. Sorry about this. My e-mail is icemink@mac.com

Spike cursed as he tried to slide the card into the door handle of the hotel room while kissing and groping Buffy.

Buffy giggled. "Give me that."

She plucked the card out of his hand and spun in his arms so that her back was to him. While she worked the electronic lock and key, he used the opportunity to fill his now empty hands with her breasts. Despite the distraction she managed to open the door.

"Oh wow!" Buffy said as she took in the room.

She broke out of Spike's grasp to get a better look. It was the nicest hotel room Buffy had ever seen, not that she'd seen a lot, but she figured most didn't come with big comfy looking four-poster beds. But that wasn't what had her attention.

"How'd they do that?" she asked.

"Do. . ?"

"Look," she pointed, "The ice is hardly melted at all. And this champagne bottle's cold. But we just checked in. How could they know to put it up here?"

"Rule number one about being upper class, Slayer: Never notice the servants or wonder how things get done. Just take them for granted."

"Rule number two," Buffy said annoyed. "No calling me Slayer when it's just the two of us. I do have a name."

He immediately came to her, a sheepish expression on his face.

"Right, sorry luv, err Buffy."

"Love's okay. Just not Slayer. I know we're not just two normal people, but I like to pretend, okay?"

"Whatever you say, luv." He smiled at her, letting the tip of his tongue poke out from between his teeth. "And what else do you like to pretend?"

He pulled her in close and she was forced to splay her hands on his chest. Buffy thought she might melt from the way he was looking at her. It took her a moment to find her voice.
"For starters," she began shyly. "I pretend I belong to someone. Are you. . . are you going to claim me?"

"Do you want me to? I was thinking of waiting for permission this time. Keeps me on the same side of the room as you," he said jokingly so she'd know he had no hard feelings.

"Yes, I want you to. If you're sure you want me?"

"Never been more sure of anything but. . ."

Buffy's heart nearly stopped beating. Here it was. The big let down.

"Do you love me?" he whispered shyly.

She breathed a sigh of relief.

"Yes, I love you," she said without thinking.

She'd been ready for this. After he'd told her he loved her she’d figured this moment was coming. She'd prepared for it. She couldn't risk losing him now, so she'd made up her mind to simply tell him she loved him if he asked. When the words left her mouth, however, she was surprised to find out how true they were.

"God, yes. I love you," she said more forcefully.

After the first shock it seemed so obvious, if a little crazy, that she couldn't believe that she hadn't figured it out before.

He smiled like she'd never seen him smile before. It was kind of dopey, but it lit up his eyes. She didn't have much time to contemplate it because he was kissing her. She opened her mouth to him and let his tongue fill her. For a moment she let him take her over completely, then she fought his tongue with hers. Demanding to be allowed to explore him as deeply as he was exploring her. She pushed her body against his, wanting to touch him everywhere, wanting to be touched by him. She was finally forced to break the kiss as she gasped for air.

"What do you want?" she asked him breathlessly.

"You, just you baby," he murmured as he moved in to kiss her again.

"No silly," she said as she dogged his mouth. "I mean how… I want to. . ." she smiled as the words came to her, "I want to get you so hot you dust."

He gave her a hungry smile and ground his erection into her belly.

"You already do," he purred. "Miracle I haven't gone poof already."

She giggled as his hands slid up and down her back and his tongue licked her neck.

"I mean it," she insisted. "I want to do something for you. Do it the way you like."

"I like it lots of ways." He pulled back from her neck so he could look her in the eyes. "Right now, I just want to make love to you, pet. Make you mine."

It was almost nice that he was trying to be tender with her, but also a little annoying.

"I'm serious, Spike. It's okay, you can tell me. I want to know."

"So am I, pet. You asked what I want, and that's it. Another day, another mood, sure… might want something a bit dirtier, or a bit rougher. But now, I just want to worship you like you deserve."

"Oh," she said with disappointment.

She never would have guessed that her relationship with Spike would end up in the same place she and Riley had been. At least not so quickly. Buffy wondered what had gone wrong. How had they gone from blowjobs at the ice show to boring sex in the space of an hour? Had her former curse of sleeping with men and turning them evil somehow reversed and she'd made Spike good? Too good?

But she'd told herself that she wanted to give Spike a fantasy, unless it made her really, really, REALLY uncomfortable, and this didn't fit that category.

"Okay," she agreed.

Spike, however, seemed to clue in on her lack of enthusiasm.

"What's wrong, Buffy? You don't seem exactly happy."

"No, it's fine. If that's what you want."

"Only if you do. I just don't understand. I thought. . . I mean you said you loved me."

The vulnerability and fear in his voice nearly broke her heart.

"I do. I love you, Spike. I meant it. It's just. . ." She took a deep breath. This was Spike, the guy she was supposed to be able to be honest with. Now was as good a time as any to find out if that really was true. "Most of the times. . . well actually all of the times I've had sex, except with you, it's been love making. It was nice and all, but you know, boring."

She bit her bottom lip as she finished, worried about what his reaction might be. She didn't expect him to laugh in her face.

"Oh, pet," he chuckled. "No reason it has to be like that. Don't you trust me to get you off?"

"Well, when you put it like that. . . "

"There is one thing you could do for me." He said lowering his voice. She looked at him eagerly, wondering what it would be. "Take down your hair," he ordered.

It was an odd request, she thought, but she complied instantly. She reached up to pull the pins out of her hair, and then shook it out. He smiled and gave her an incredibly lusty look that made her squeeze her legs together in anticipation. He ran his fingers through her hair.

"You know I love this hair. The way it bounces around when you move. The way it sparkles in the light."

To emphasize his point, he buried his face in her locks and kissed her behind her ear.

"Mmmm," he murmured. "Did I ever actually tell you how much I like the new scent?"

"Only if you count jumping me as I came out of the shower as telling."

"Well I do. Love it. Love you."

He began kissing her again. One hand roamed up her back from her waist to the top of her dress. Then he slowly slid down the zipper. As the dress came loose, he began kissing his way down her neck to her chest. The dress fell in a pool on the floor and he cupped her breasts, burying his face between them.

Her fingers tangled in his hair as she held him close, delighting in the pleasure he was taking in her breasts. She chuckled tenderly, until his thumbs began to circle her nipples through the fabric of her bra. She gasped in delight, then. She could feel the dampness spreading between her legs.

Gently she pushed him away and backed up onto the bed. She lay down in what she hoped was a sexy centerfold position.

"You're wearing too much," she told him.

It was almost a shame, asking him to take off the tux. He looked so good in it, but then naked Spike was even better than 007 Spike. At least this way, she hoped she could enjoy the show.

He smiled, and his eyes swept up and down her body. She could almost feel them caressing her. Without taking his hungry eyes off of her, he undid his bow tie and threw it to the floor. Then he began to undo the buttons of his shirt.

As if it had a will of it's own, Buffy's hand moved down to her panties where she began to gently touch herself as she watched him undress.

"Impatient are we, luv?" he chuckled with delight as he watched her.

He shrugged out of his shirt and coat, then quickly removed his pants and kicked off his shoes. Before Buffy could make any appreciative remarks about his erect member he was on top of her and his kisses drove all thoughts from her mind.

Their mouths tried to devour each other as their hands roamed over each other’s bodies. They both seemed to need to touch each other everywhere all at once.

Spike broke off kissing her and just looked at her. He brushed her hair out of her face. "You're so beautiful. So strong, so perfect."

The look on his face changed from one of awe to one of mischief as he began to work his way down her body. Every time his soft lips brushed her skin, Buffy shivered with delight. His eyes stayed focused on her face, and she couldn't look away from their blue depths. The look of love in his eyes scared her. As eager as she was for him, she also felt vulnerable, and exposed. She had lost control somewhere, and as much as she wanted to trust Spike - believed she could trust him - her past experience had taught her that it was when you gave your heart to a guy that things went wrong.

Her fears were driven from her mind, though, when he began to kiss her inner thigh. His lips and tongue left a trail of fire as they moved down her leg to her knee. When he reached the top of her stocking he stopped, sat up a little, then he pulled off her shoe and tossed it aside. His fingers slid inside the elastic and he slid his hand down her leg slowly as he pulled the stocking off. Then he repeated his actions on her other leg.

Satisfied, he reached forward and removed her panties. Up to this point he'd been taking his time, but once she lay there exposed before him, his self-control snapped. He made a deep throaty growl as he buried his face between her legs. She squealed in delight as his cool tongue delved inside of her.

She became his complete prisoner then. Lost completely in the sensation of him exploring her. All of her limbs were trembling as his tongue thrust in and out of her. Her fingers dug into the mattress as her hips surged up off the bed.

Then he pulled back a little and blew a burst of air against her engorged clitoris. Buffy screamed in pleasure. He thrust his fingers inside of her as his tongue moved in to play with the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Oh, God. Spike," she began to babble as he skillfully manipulated her body.

She didn't know how much of this she could take. The sensations were too much, overwhelming her. Just as she was about to burst, to fall completely over the edge, he stopped. He knelt between her legs and pulled her up so that she was straddling him.

He reached up to kiss her and she could taste herself on his lips and tongue. His hands moved to her hips to bring her down onto his eager member, but Buffy's rebellious streak took her. Just as the head of his cock touched her opening, she pulled back, teasing him.

She smiled sweetly at him, and fluttered her eyelashes innocently. She caught his bottom lip between her teeth and lightly nipped him.

Her arms were resting lightly on his shoulders and she used them to keep herself hovering just over him.

"Please, baby," he begged. "Need you so bad."

She dipped her wet pussy down toward him again, but this time his cock slid in just a fraction more than she had intended. The feeling of him spreading her open was too much for her, and there was no way she could pull away. Instead, she greedily sucked him inside of her.

They both cried with pleasure as their bodies came together and she fit herself to him. He cradled her head and kissed her hard as they began to move together. Buffy rode up and down against him, delighting in the amount of control this position gave her over how he entered her.

Her body was so ready and eager for him that her climax hit her quickly. She threw her head back and screamed, "SPIKE!"

She dug her nails into his shoulders as she pushed her body as tightly against his as she could. Just as her orgasm was fading, she felt his lips suck at her throat. His tongue, which seemed rougher than she’d been used to, licked her neck, and then his fangs sunk into it.

She cried out again and her body began to resume uncontrollable shakes as he began to suck at the wound. Her second orgasm brought him with her as they continued to surge against each other.

As it faded, her arms and legs lost their strength. She tumbled backwards, drawing him down with her. She grunted with pleasure as their impact against the bed ground him delightfully against her. His mouth was still affixed to her neck, although he was no longer sucking, just tickling the wound with his tongue.

Slowly he moved his mouth to her ear. "Buffy," he whispered.

Maybe it was just her imagination, but she thought she felt a spark as he said her name. She wanted it to be real, wanted to hold on to him, to this moment. She was terrified it wouldn't last, that it was all going away. But then Spike began to play with her fingers, entwining his with hers as he pulled himself out of her and settled next to her.

It was such a gentle thing to do. She smiled at him and turned her head so she could study his expression. He pulled her close to him, and seeing the look of vulnerability in his eyes she realized something. Her fears weren't entirely her own. The anxiety that he would leave her, that this wasn't real, that it was just sex. They were her emotions yes, but they were partially Spike's, too. His feelings were merging with hers more and more the closer they became. Knowing that Spike shared her fears made her feel even closer to him, and made her realize how unfounded those fears were. This was Spike, and come what may she knew he would stick with her.

"How’s my girl?" he asked.

"Perfect," she told him.
 

Chapter 34

Buffy giggled as Spike carried her through the doors of the Hyperion in the pre-dawn hours. They would have both preferred staying in bed at the other hotel, but if they hadn’t gotten moving before sunrise, they would have been stuck there until sunset. Buffy couldn’t seem to remember why that was a bad thing anymore.

The fact was, Buffy had never felt so good in her life. Her whole body tingled and was sore. Half the reason Spike was carrying her was because she wasn’t sure how reliably her legs worked. If pre-claim sex had been great, post –claim sex was beyond description. Having a lover who could predict her every physical need was incredible. He’d switched back and forth from torturing her by keeping her on the edge of an orgasm to making her cum over and over again.

And then they were through the door and Angel was sitting there on the ottoman wearing the sort of scowl it took a hundred years to perfect.

She could feel the delight in Spike, and it hurt her. She knew that their relationship was deep, true, real and not just some way to get back at Angel. But it was also a way to get back at Angel. Buffy felt small, insignificant. Just another battlefield in the century long war between two alpha males.

“Told you not to wait up, mate,” Spike dug at Angel.

“Vampire, remember? It’s not my bed-time yet.”

Buffy squirmed against Spike, so he’d let her down. He did without taking his eyes off of Angel. He was completely unaware of her discomfort. He hadn’t forgotten about her, just shifted focus so that she wasn’t the center of his universe anymore. It was strange and a little scary, realizing how much deeper the claim she had on Spike was than the one he had on her. He could feel her physically; know what her body felt, needed. But she had developed a direct line to his emotions.

Then Angel sprung to his feet, growling as golden eyes swept over both of them.

“You claimed her.”

It was the quietness of Angel’s voice that scared Buffy the most. Yelling she could deal with. Calm and quiet were harbingers of the very not good.

“That’s right,” Spike said with equal cool.

But Buffy knew better. She could feel the flurry of emotions under Spike’s calm demeanor. She knew he hadn’t thought of this. He hadn’t been thinking of Angel last night anymore than she had. For which she was glad. Glad that it really had been just about the two of them.

She squeezed Spike’s hand to let him know she was there with him. She knew how important that was to him. The combination of the physical contact, and the fact that she was actively trying to read him pulled her even deeper into his thoughts.

This was familiar to him; he pushed, struggled against the bonds. Took what Angel said wasn’t his, and then they fought. This was as much a routine for them as asking her how her day had been was for her mom. It was the part that came next that chilled Buffy. Spike was terrified because it always ended the same way. Angel always won. And this time he felt that if he lost, then that would be it. It really mattered this time. She wasn’t sure why.

Did he really think it would matter to her who won? That she cared which was the tougher vampire?

“Don’t worry, Buffy,” Angel told her. “I won’t let what he’s done to you last.”

She looked at both men in confusion. “What are you talking about? Okay, first off, he didn’t do anything to me. Well he did. But nothing I didn't literally ask for. Secondly I can take care of myself. Thirdly, there’s nothing you can do anyway. The claim's permanent. Lifelong deal.”

A horrid thought struck Buffy. He’s going to try and kill Spike right here in front of me. Of course she would never let that happen, but still, what right did Angel have to try and kill her boyfriend?

“Actually, it’s not. Not necessarily,” Angel said ominously.

“What’s he talking about?” Buffy asked Spike, turning to him for comfort.

“Sorry pet, I never thought. . . it never occurred to me to tell you. It’s even rarer than the claim itself, but another vampire can challenge for the claim - take it over.”

“What? What kind of caveman logic is that? Well I won’t let you,” she told Angel.

Now she understood Spike’s terror, why he had to win. To lose would be to lose her. No way was she letting Angel claim her. With Spike it was this sweet way of letting him in, sharing her life with him. But with Angel it would be like being stalked 24/7. For one thing, she’d never be able to have sex again, never even touch herself, cause he’d feel all of it. He'd be in her bedroom for the rest of her life.

“You don’t have a choice,” Angel told her as he leapt at Spike.

Spike shoved her out of the way. She hit the floor, but years of training caused her to roll to her feet. She spun around to see the most brutal battle she’d ever witnessed. Spike had finally vamped, and he and Angel tore at each other.

She cursed under her breath. She was a little afraid to get between the two vampires, even if there had been room. If she got too close, and Spike hit her by accident, the chip would go off, and that would leave him vulnerable to Angel. The worst part was that Spike had already made his mistake. She had fought with and against both men. She knew their strengths and weaknesses - maybe better than they did.

Spike had let Angel get in too close. As they grappled with each other the larger man could use his size and strength to greater advantage. If Spike could get some distance between them he would have a much better chance, but rage had consumed him. He was so desperate not to lose this time that he was attacking with his heart, not his head. In some cases that could work for you, Buffy knew. But mostly it was a mistake. Spike was the cleverer fighter, but he was relying too much on the demon. Worse, Spike didn’t believe he could win. He would be defeated by his own fatalism, if nothing else.

As the two demons beat each other relentlessly, Buffy longed to step in. To stop it. It was pointless. Yet she was scared that if she did, it would do too much harm to Spike. She wanted him to win - not for her, but for him. This once, she wanted him to best Angel.

Angel had his arm around Spike’s neck in a chokehold. Of course Spike didn’t need to breathe but still, it made it difficult for the younger vampire to move. Spike sent an elbow into Angel’s stomach, loosening Angel’s hold on him. Buffy all but cheered, thinking that maybe things were turning around. Then Angel simply threw himself at the smaller man, using his size and weight to crush him.

Spike hit the floor face first, Angel on top pinning him down. Angel yanked the collar of Spike’s shirt ripping it open and Buffy could hear buttons hit the floor. She didn’t need to see Angel start to lean forward to know what he was going to do, to know what would make him winner and transfer the claim. They were vampires after all.

Spike yelled and beat impotently against the floor trying to throw his attacker off of him. Buffy never gave him the chance. The stakes were finally too high and too personal for her to be able to give a damn about his male pride.

Angel roared in triumph as his head began to descend to the tender flesh of his opponent’s neck. Instead, it connected with the toe of Buffy’s shoe. His head snapped back as he sailed back into the counter, and for a moment Buffy thought maybe she’d gone too far and broken Angel’s neck. But then she saw him moving as he started to get to his feet.

She moved to help Spike up. He snarled at her, but she ignored it. She’d deal with his shame latter; right now she had to make it clear to Angel that he could never try this again.

“Buffy,” Angel growled at her, “Stay out of this.”

“You’re kidding, right? Hello this is my life here, too. And just so we’re clear, if you had won, if you took my claim, then I’d drop out of school, give up slaying move in with Spike, and do nothing but fuck him all day long so you’d have to feel him touching me all the time.”

To her great relief, Angel didn’t call her bluff but stormed off. Luckily the idea of such a mystical threesome sickened him as much as it did her. She pulled Spike’s arm around her neck to help support him and take him upstairs so she could see to his injuries.

Spike snarled and pulled away from her, refusing her help. She was annoyed but not really surprised. She knew she needed to patch up his ego just as much as his body. So she followed.

Buffy followed him down the less used corridors of the hotel. She assumed he was trying to get as far from Angel as possible considering the sun had gone up during their fight. Finally he chose a run down room that was covered in dust, and lacking in solid furniture. She was about to follow him in when he slammed the door in her face.

She was angry, but she fought it. She could feel his pain calling her through the doorway. All the doubt, the insecurity, the belief that he wasn’t as good as Angel filled her. She gritted her teeth, counted to ten, and then opened the door.

He was laying on the floor curled into a fetal position, his back to her. His body rocked softly as he cried. She wanted to run to him, hold him, and tell him that it was all okay. That it didn’t matter. But that was the wrong instinct and she knew it. She had to build him back up. Make him feel like the Big Bad again. Not someone who needed her protection.

“Get up,” she told him.

She could feel his surprise and his hurt; he’d expected her pity. When he didn’t move, she gently kicked him in the back.

“I said get up.” She kept her voice firm.

Slowly he unwound himself and turned till he was sitting facing her, his face streaked with dust and tears. He had reverted to his human features and looked all the world like a little lost boy. The need to comfort him hit her again and she found herself moved and kind of turned on by it. But she couldn’t indulge her own fantasies right now.

“Why did you lose?” she asked him.

“I tried. . .” he whined.

“Not good enough,” she cut him off. She hated doing this; it was breaking her heart, especially because she could tell he thought that he’d failed her. That he wasn’t good enough for her. Still, she found the inner bitch and clung to it. “Why did you lose?”

“Because I’m not as strong as he is, not as big. Haven’t been around as long. He’s my grand-sire - he’s going to win. That’s just the way things are.”

“No, that’s not it. You’re right. He is stronger, and he is bigger. Well, most of him is.” She let herself flirt for that one moment. If she was going to build up his ego, she might as well work on all of it. Not to mention it was true. “But you know what, he’s bigger than me and I can beat him, and I’m stronger than you, but you’re still a match for me. As for age, I’m only nineteen which puts me way younger than most of the vampires I’ve slain.”

“So why don’t you tell me then? You’ve got all the answers! You’re the all knowing Slayer!” he snapped at her.

She sighed, and had the sudden urge to take off and clean her glasses, even though she didn’t wear any.

“That’s right. I’m the Slayer and I know you, both of you, and how you fight. That should have been, maybe not a cakewalk, but you should have won. He’s stronger but you’re faster, more creative, and better trained.” She suddenly got sidetracked, “Where’d you learn how to fight anyway? Not from him.” She shook her head realizing that was a story for another time. “The point is, you should have won, but you didn’t. Why?”

“Because he always does,” Spike snarled at her. He got to his feet and begun pacing. His control had slipped, and his features were demonic again. “He always wins. Always gets everything. Everything I want, everything that should be mine, he takes it - even when he really doesn’t want it. Just wants to prove that I have nothing. That I’m not good enough.”

“You’re right.” He spun around to face her, angry and hurt all at once. “That’s why you lost. Because you expected to.” She finally let her voice soften. “However much you wanted to win, you didn’t believe you could. Until you start to believe in yourself, Angel’s always going to be able to hurt you like this. To take things from you. Well, not me, cause I won’t let him. Oh, and by the way stupid, since you didn’t seem to notice, I chose you in there.”

That brought Spike up short. A look of utter surprise crossed his face as he replayed the events of the morning in his head.

“You did,” he said with something approaching awe. He reached out to touch her face. “You chose me over him.” He said the words slowly, as if he couldn’t believe he was saying them, much less that they were true. Then he let out a big whooping noise, and lifted her up into the air and spun her around. Until a cracked rib gave way and he nearly dropped her.

She laughed at his antics.

“Now let’s get you cleaned up, okay baby?” she asked.

“Anything you want,” he told her, holding her tight.
 

Chapter 35:

After his fight with Angel, Buffy had bandaged him up, both physically and mentally. They had napped for most of the morning, then they had gone back downstairs to find Angel Investigations still busily trying to deal with the Darla problem. Spike really didn't care, but Buffy still thought Darla had to be dealt with.

So now it was early evening and the two of them were traveling around L.A. checking out a list of hotels, motels, and apartments buildings that Wolfram & Hart was known to use, searching for Darla. They were just about to enter an apartment building when Lilah Morgan stepped outside.

'Bollocks,' Spike thought. 'What the hell is she doing here?'

Buffy eyed him curiously as he regarded the brunette lawyer with trepidation.

"Well isn't this a lucky coincidence," Lilah said in her too sweet voice.

Spike was willing to bet it was anything but a coincidence.

"I was just on my way to find you," she continued. "Dr. Roberts realized that he forgot to give you his card." She produced a business card from her purse and shoved it in Spike's hand. "You know, in case you need a follow up appointment. Brain surgery is a tricky thing. Well, tatah."

With that she beeped open the locks on a nearby Lexus, got in and drove off.

"Brain surgery? What is she talking about? Not to mention who is she?" a confused Buffy asked.

Spike looked down at his shoes, unable to look her in the eye.

"Umm, Lilah's her name. She's one of the lawyers at Wolfram & Hart."

Silence stretched between them. Buffy just waited for him to answer his other question. Realizing he had no way out of this, but concocting some absurd lie, he gave in and hesitantly looked her in the eye. Her hazel eyes were filled with pain. Obviously she knew he was hiding something, and the hint of fear in her eyes told him she'd already guessed what he was going to say.

He found he couldn't look her in the eye after all, and he started to play nervously with the doctor's card.

"I umm. . . I got the chip removed."

"When?" Her voice was barley audible, and yet it was hard.

He looked up at her again. "It's been about two days now."

"Have you killed anyone?" she asked with the same quiet voice.

There was no accusation in her voice, but Spike heard it all the same. Guilt at not telling her flooded him. He was going to. Knew he had to. But he'd wanted a chance to prove himself.

"What?! No. When have I had bloody time for killing? Been dragged all over the place trying to help Angel, haven't I?"

She leaned wearily back against the rough, brick wall of the apartment building.

"So, just haven't had time to schedule it in, huh?" Buffy's voice started to crack.

The tears rolling down her face broke his heart. It wasn't supposed to go like this.

"No. . . I'm not. . . I wouldn't. . . "

"Why not?" she screamed at him. "That's what you've been going on about since they put it in your head. How we should all be careful 'cause of what would happen when you got the chip out."

"It's not like that," he pleaded with her. "Look, I'm not going to kill anyone."

"How do I know that? How can I ever know that?" she sobbed.

"I wanted to kill your dad and I didn't," he said before he could think about what he was saying.

"Oh, great. That's a real big assurance. You only want to kill my family."

"No, I didn't mean it like that. Look, I've changed. I can be-"

"You can be what? Human? You're not. You never will be," she shouted back at him. Then she crumpled. Her legs went out from beneath her and she huddled on the ground hugging herself. "I can't. . . I can't do this again."

"Do what, baby?"

He ran to her, sat next to her and reached out to comfort her, but she flinched away.

"You have to go. You have to leave L.A, leave Sunnydale." She got back to her feet. "I'm the Slayer. If I see you again, I have to kill you."

She walked away.

He ran after her.

"No, it doesn't have to be like that. Look I promise. I won't kill. Just give me a chance," he begged.

She stopped and looked at him. Her hand reached up and she stroked his cheek.

"William, I know you mean it. I know you think you're different, that you won't. . . But if I give you a chance, and you fail, then what? I couldn't. . . I can't. . . Do you love me?"

"Yes, god yes, Buffy. You know I do. I just wanted. . .I just wanted to protect you. That's all. If something happened to you. . ."

"If you love me, Spike. If you really love me, then leave. Do as I ask because I can't. . . I'm not strong enough. I won't survive this again."

Her voice was so soft, the fear and the pain in her eyes so real, that it broke him. She was wrong. It would all be okay, if she would just trust him. But he had already broken that trust. He could see in her eyes that she wouldn't give in. That no sweet words or kisses would win his way back into her heart. Would win back her trust. Slim as it was, his only hope was to do what she wanted, and hope she came around.

"I won't kill. But if you think. . . If you ever need me, I'll be there. I promise. The claim, it won't go away. You just have to let me know you need me, and I'll come."

Spike couldn't remember anything more difficult than turning his back on her and walking away. It was too much, it was more than he could bear. He turned back around to fall on his knees to beg her to come back. But she was gone. He hadn't heard her run off, so she couldn't have gone far. But the fact that she had disappeared when his back was turned, that she hadn't stayed to watch him leave made it clear that she really did want him gone.

Hanging his head he left, never noticing that Darla had been watching the whole thing from a window above them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy sat staring out the window of the bus as she left L.A. behind. She didn't dare face Angel, and if she didn't get back to Sunnydale soon she knew she'd run after Spike.

The worst part was that he meant it. He really did believe that he had changed. That without the chip, and without a soul he could be good. That he could overcome his very nature for her.

She'd felt his sincerity through their bond, just as she'd felt his heartbreak when she'd told him that he had to leave. It had been the second hardest thing she'd ever done.

She wished she could be brave, be the young idealistic girl that had followed after Angel no matter what. That had believed love would conquer all and that if you just held on there would be a happy ending. But she knew where that got you. That got your friends dead, and sooner or later you ended up having to kill the person you loved.

She didn't have that anymore. She knew that. She loved Spike, and there was no way she could kill him. No matter what the cost, and she suspected the cost would be her soul. No, if he killed again, she wouldn't be able to stake him, she'd let it slide. And the next victim, and the next, until her soul was stained with every innocent life he took.

That was why he had to leave. Had to go away so she couldn't feel him any more. It was so that she would never have to face her worst fear. To choose between love and duty again.

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