Part 12:

Cookies


It was Saturday, so no school. First good point. She had no homework. Even better. Buffy was home. She wasn’t sick. She seemed happier than she had been in months. Who could have asked for more ?

Dawn wasn’t asking for anything. Except maybe a little help.

“They’re not supposed to spread like that,” she mumbled, looking disgustedly at her experiment.

The few cookies she had carefully placed on the baking sheet were now cooked. But the dozen had become one solid, giant, shapeless cookie.

“’Morning Dawnie. Watcha doing ?”

The teen rolled her eyes at her sister. It wasn’t morning, it was the middle of the afternoon. And wasn’t what she was doing obvious ?

“My cookies are all flat and runny,” she whined.

“Lets try another batch. Super cook is here.”

Considerably later, the two sisters proudly admired the result of their hard work. Perfectly shaped, plump chocolate chip cookies. The kitchen was a mess, and both of them had traces of dough on their faces. There was flour on the floor and in Buffy’s hair from when Dawn had thrown a handful at her, after the third batch - the burnt one.

Buffy’s hand sneaked toward the still warm cookies, and Dawn smacked it down. “Don’t you dare! If you want to eat, get one of the ugly ones.”

The perfect batch was the fifth, which left a lot of less than perfect but mostly edible cookies to be had.

“Come on Dawnie, cookies are made to be eaten.”

That coming from the girl who a few weeks back took note of each single calorie she ate…

“These are not for you,” Dawn insisted. “Eat the other ones.”

Carefully, Dawn piled the little wonders in a box. Buffy was pouting as she grabbed one of the ‘cooked outside but raw inside’ ones and nibbled the crispy edge.

“Who are they for ?” she asked idly between two bites.

Dawn felt her cheeks get hot, and of course Buffy saw it and pressed on. “Oh ! What’s his name ? Do I know him ?”

Dawn was * almost * grateful when Angel entered the kitchen, saving her from Buffy’s enquiring mind. Not quite, though. She would have been grateful if it had been anyone but Angel. She briefly wondered what he was doing there in the middle of the day, when the answer was given to her in no uncertain form. She gave a disgusted look as her sister smooched the vampire.

Eventually, they stopped their gross demonstration, and Dawn scowled when Buffy proposed a cookie to Angel. She certainly hadn’t made all these efforts for him. However, the vamp refused the offer.

It was weird, Dawn mused, how she kept forgetting that Buffy was a vampire too now. It was so easy to overlook. That was, until she did yucky things, like pouring blood into mugs and warming them in the microwave. But that was nothing in comparison to what she did next. Under the bemused gazes of both Dawn and Angel, the Slayer dunked her cookie into her mug before nibbling on it.

“EWWW !” Dawn shrieked. “I won’t ever eat a cookie, ever again ! And I thought it was gross when Spike put weetabix in his blood !”

Buffy stared at the remaining piece of cookie in her hand. She looked like she was about to be sick. Could vampires get sick ?

“Sorry,” she muttered. “I don’t know why I did that. Taste good though.”

“Again with the ewww !” Dawn insisted.

The teen tried to sneak away, but Buffy stopped her sternly and told her to clean the mess. She didn’t even propose to help before following the brooding guy in the living room. Life was just not fair.


* * * * *


Feeling absolutely no remorse, Buffy left the kitchen and its mess to Dawn, stealing one of the ‘good’ cookies on her way out. After all, she had helped bake the things, so she deserved one. Angel was sitting on the couch, that unreadable expression of his broadcasted on his face. She joined him.

“You know, you don’t need to eat,” he commented.

“I don’t need to doesn’t mean I can’t.”

He frowned and she felt a small twinge of annoyance.

“It’s not like I’m going to get sick or anything. Spike eats human food all the time.”

Angel’s expression closed even more if it was possible. Maybe mentioning the blonde vampire to him wasn’t a very good idea.

“Why didn’t you stake him ?” he asked abruptly. “Not just the last few days. Why didn’t you ever stake him ?”

She was taken aback by the question. She had asked it to herself many times, a few of them since her return. She had a vague idea, but no real answer.

“He’s harmless with the chip,” she said feebly, immediately understanding it was a mistake.

“Buffy he killed you ! That is anything but harmless ! And anyway, how was he able to do that? I thought he couldn’t hurt humans.”

“He can’t. Except for me, since Willow brought me back.”

How could a frown get that deep ?

“And exactly when and how did you notice that ?”

“Angel, that’s the past…” she started.

“I want to know. If you don’t tell me, I’ll go ask him.”

It wasn’t a threat, it was a promise, delivered in a perfectly level voice.

“We had a fight a couple of months ago,” she said slowly. “That’s when I knew.”

“Why didn’t you stake him then ?”

‘I was too busy fucking his brains out, that’s why.’

“I don’t know why. And it is too late now. I don’t want to think about it any more.”

She got to her feet and he caught her hand before she could stalk away.

“It’s not too late to correct a mistake. Let me dust him. For you.”

“No !”

The vehemence of her refusal surprised them both.

“Why not ?” Angel growled. “He killed you.”

“He gave me eternal life. And a soul. And a chance to be with you. Doesn’t he get some credit for that ? He didn’t get anything out of it. He didn’t even ask for anything.”

Angel’s head snapped back as if she’d slapped him.

“You actually believe he gave you a gift ?” he asked, pain clear in his voice.

She shook her head, willing the tears she felt coming to her eyes to go away. How long had she hoped for the time she'd be able to have Angel ? Forever, it seemed. Why couldn't he understand that ? Hadn't he wanted it just as much ?

“I don’t know if it’s a gift. I know I’m here. I know I feel good, even if I’m dead, even if I’m a vamp, even if my boyfriend looks like it’s horrible that I’m not in a grave.”

His face softened as her voice faltered and he beckoned her to sit on his lap, rocking her gently.

“Buffy, love, I’m happy you’re here. You know that, right ?”

A sniffle was her only answer.

They remained huddled against each other, both of them quiet, both reflecting on what they had lost or gained when Buffy had been turned.


* * * * *


A curse escaped from Spike’s lips when the Nibblet strode in his crypt without knocking. What was it with the Summers girls and politeness ? Joyce had been such a perfect lady.

He managed to slide into his jeans without giving the kid an eyeful, and, grumpy, went to the fridge to grab something to eat, listening to her distractedly, unaware that he was nodding in all the right places. By the time she finished telling him about her return to school, he had already downed a glass of blood, liberally doused with vodka, and was working on his second one.

“Why don’t you come visit any more ?” she asked in a soft voice.

“You know why,” he replied kindly.

Her lips settled on a pout, very much like Buffy sometimes did.

“I don’t care what they all think,” she said stubbornly. “I say you were right.”

A faint smirk rose to his lips. That was his Bit. Defending him against everyone and ignoring his faults.

“It’s ok, Nibblet. I’m fine by myself. Not that I mind a little company every now and then. Just make sure big sis doesn’t catch you.”

His heart melted as she gave him a big smile. Then he realized she would take this as an invitation to come in as often as she could, which was maybe not all that safe for her.

“Only during daytime,” he added firmly. “I don’t want anyone snacking on you.”

She nodded, and by now she was beaming. At least, he thought gloomily, he knew how to make one of them smile.

He finally noticed the package she was holding, and gestured to it with his glass.

“What’s that ?”

She looked at the box, frowning as if she had forgotten she was holding it, before handing it to him.

“That’s for you,” she announced. “I made them myself. Buffy helped, but it was my idea.”

He opened the lid and stared at the cookies in the box. That was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for him… And he was a big bad vampire, which meant he shouldn’t care.

“Thanks Bit,” he smirked.

She nodded back gravely. “No, thank you.”

He took one of the cookies and thoughtlessly dunked it in his blood. The kid’s loud protest made him jump in surprise and spill a little blood from his glass.

“Eww ! Not again !”

He looked at her questioningly, taking a bite of his treat.

“Buffy did exactly the same thing,” she said, disgust plain on her face and voice. “Except for the booze. Can’t you act like normal people ? At least in front of me ?”

The cookie was good, but not as good as the kid’s words. Any little crumb that made him and Buffy closer was just delicious. God, how much he missed her. He wished he could make himself go to her. But he couldn't face her. He had said he wouldn't regret turning her, and he didn't. But that didn't mean he didn't feel guilty about taking her life.

“How is she doing ?” he asked quietly, his voice expressing more concern than he had wished.

“She’s fine. Great, really. Much better than when she returned before.”

By her tone and soft smile, he knew he had given himself away to Dawn.

“Whipped much ?” she said gently.

“More than ever,” he smiled back.

He was surprised when the kid gave him a hug. Even more surprised by how much comfort that simple act brought him. Indistinctly, he realized he had never felt lonelier in his whole unlife. Ironic, really. Making a Childe was supposed to give a loving companion to a vampire. All he had was stolen glimpses of the woman he loved. And cookies.

Part 13

Fights & Fangs


As the sun set on Sunnydale, a couple of vampires made their way to the Magic Box. Giles had called Buffy earlier to request her presence. Angel naturally followed.

Anya watched over Buffy’s shoulder as she signed a pile of legal documents that made her the co-owner of the shop in Giles’ place. The Slayer was patient, and repeated as often as necessary that no, she wouldn’t even try to do anything unless Anya asked, and yes, Anya could do whatever she pleased with the shop, as she had so far. After a while, the ex-demon seemed satisfied and returned to last minute seating modifications with an increasingly fidgeting Xander. Amused, Buffy wondered whether he was nervous because of the two vampires sitting just a few steps away from him, or because of his approaching wedding day. She would have bet her half of the shop that it was the latter. He had been slightly warmer toward her than he had been right after her return. The shock was fading, probably.

When all the documents were signed, Giles gave Buffy a bright smile, as if she had done him a huge favor and not the other way around. She had thought it would be harder than this to accept such a gift. Yet, now that it was done, she felt a bit better. No, a lot better. She didn’t have to worry about money any more. Well, she certainly wouldn’t be spending the summer visiting Paris by night, but at least the threat of losing the home - her mom’s home - was gone. The fridge would be full, the phone and cable would keep working, water wouldn’t be rationed, and she would only use candles for light if she wanted to. Vaguely, she was already thinking of getting some kind of job she could do from home. With a teen in the house, there was no such thing as too much money. But now she had time to search and find.

Giles being himself, he insisted for Buffy to do some training, which she grudgingly accepted. She didn’t feel like she needed to train at all, and she could think of more pleasant ways to spend her evening…

However, after destroying the punching bag in five punches, she got a sense that something was going on. She coaxed Angel into sparring with her, and amazed Giles, the brunette and herself by her rapidity and force. Of course, she had been anything but a weakling before, but her new abilities were stunning.

“Even knowing that it would happen,” she heard Giles mutter, “It’s still incredible.”

“How did you know ?” she asked curiously.

“You are not the first Slayer to be turned,” he answered absently. “Not much has been recorded about the others, except that their Slayer powers only increased after the change.”

“What happened to them ?” Angel inquired.

Giles hand rose to his glasses. Pure reflex, Buffy knew. He didn’t want to see them as he answered.

“The Council hunted them down.”

Buffy came to her Watcher, touching his arm gently. “Are they going to try and dust me ?”

His hand covered hers, trying to reassure despite his words. “I don’t know. The fact that you have your soul will probably stop them. We just need to make sure they understand…”

His voice hesitated, and she nodded. “Tell them. When you return to England, tell them all they need to know.”

He patted her hand soothingly. “Don’t worry too much about them. I’ll make sure they know that coming after you would be a very bad idea.”

For just a second, a hint of Ripper pierced through his voice and gaze, and Buffy had the absolute certainty that the Council wouldn’t threaten her.

Eventually, Giles gave in to his Watcher’s instincts, and sent her out to do her Slayer’s duty. She didn’t mind at all. She felt weirdly elated by her newfound abilities. She only wished she knew exactly how strong she was. She was sure Angel had not given his maximum during their sparring. A persisting thought danced in her mind. Find Spike and provoke him. Make him angry enough that he would do his best to… bring the walls down again. Not exactly a good idea, she told herself after a while.

They patrolled and chatted idly, avoiding any reference to their earlier heated discussion. To Buffy’s delight, they accidentally discovered a nest. From what they could estimate, about twenty vamps were in an old building in the factory neighborhood. Angel suggested caution. Buffy wanted to test herself. In the end, she settled the matter by simply walking into the building, leaving to Angel the choice to either follow or let her fight alone.


* * * * *


Spike’s demon came forward when he saw his Childe rush into the building, which he knew was a nest. She was crazy. Or suicidal. In either case, he had to do something.

Without a thought, he ran after her and the poof. For a couple of seconds after he entered the edifice, he just watched her dance. The way she fought had always fascinated him. Grace and danger united in one perfect body. She was simply beautiful.

She was fighting five vamps at once, and was holding her own pretty well. On the opposite side of the room, Angel was dealing with three, with not much more trouble. However, more vampires were coming down from the second level of the building. More than she would be able to handle, whatever new strength he had heard her say she now possessed. Scowling at her recklessness, Spike strode to her and joined her deadly dance, instinctively taking position to guard her back, aware of all her movements. No need to think. They had done this before, and they were good at it. Still, they had never been *that* good. They were bloody amazing.

Between blows and amidst the ashes, her eyes found his and she gave him a brief smile. He returned it unconsciously, then realized that she was wearing the demon mask. His anger reached new heights.

“Shift back to human,” he heard himself growl. “NOW !”

He was caught up in the fight again, but watched her from the corner of his eye, making sure she stayed out of game face. If he had had the time to think about it, he would have realized he had used a Sire's command on her, and she could do nothing but obey.

He quickly lost track of how many vampires he was dusting. Too bad there were no bodies, he thought absently. He would have liked knowing just how many kills he and his beautiful Childe had accumulated.

After what seemed like an eternity, only three vampires were left in the building. He found himself standing in front of the Slayer, his hand gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. In return, she reached up and ran a finger against his eyebrow were blood was seeping from a shallow cut. He watched, mesmerized, as she brought the blood stained finger to her lips.

He was abruptly reminded that they were not alone as Angel shoved him brutally away from her. He had a stake in his hand, and a deadly light in his golden eyes. Spike stared back at him unblinkingly.

“Give me just one reason not to make you ashes,” he barked.

“I asked you not to. That’s reason enough.”

Buffy’s words had been very quiet, but both Spike and Angel heard, both sets of eyes shifting to her. Surprise in one. Contained anger in the other. Angel took a step back, though he lost nothing of his menacing demeanor. Buffy pointed a finger at Spike, the same one that had been covered in his blood just a few seconds ago, he noted absently. Now perfectly clean. Why in hell had she done that?

“You were following us." she accused. "Why ?”

“I was most certainly not following you!” Spike lied with a laugh. “Just heard there was a nest…”

He stopped hastily. Letting her know he was patrolling wasn’t much better than admitting he was stalking her. And neither was part of his plan.

“You’re actually patrolling?” she asked in an incredulous tone.

“Of course not !” he said as indignantly as he could. “Just getting my bit of violence where I can.”

She seemed to believe him. Not wanting to let her time to think about that, he counter attacked.

“What was that foolish move, Slayer ? There were at least thirty vamps in here and you rushed in…”

He hesitated a half second. He had been about to say ‘like you wanted to die’.

“…With full game mask on!” he continued smoothly. “You might as well put a sign on your forehead that lists the easiest ways to kill you. Once the word gets out in the demon world, do you think they will hesitate to come at you with holy water, crosses, fire, or during the day ?”

He had become animated during his tirade, angry once more at the thought that she could have been hurt. He was now right in front of her, scowling, barely aware that his back was exposed to Angel. He realized he was still wearing the demon face, and wiped it away thoughtlessly.

“I didn’t think about that," she finally muttered, seemingly mortified.

“Obviously !” he spat, unable to contain his ire. “Just like you were not thinking when you fed off the poof!”

Said poof had apparently heard enough. Again, he pushed Spike away from the Slayer, a growl escaping his lips.

“Do not talk to her like that ! Do not talk to her AT ALL !”

“Or what ?” Spike snarled back. “You’re gonna beat me up? Or dust me? Be my guest and just try!”

Part 14

Needs (1)


A thought ran through Buffy’s mind as she heard Spike’s words and saw the way he was just standing there, giving no impression of being ready to fight. He wanted to die. He wanted Angel to fight him and stake him. She discarded the idea immediately. No, that was too much unlike him to be true.

Before they could do anything more than glare at each other, she stepped between the two men, her back to Spike, her hands up toward Angel in an appeasing gesture.

“Let’s stop this now and go home,” she asked quietly.

If she hadn’t known any better, she could have been frightened by the fierce yellow eyes that pierced her.

“Buffy ! Sooner or later…”

“Sooner or later nothing. I am going home now. And if you love me, you’ll come with me.”

Finally, Angel’s demonic appearance faded. She stepped closer and leaned against him. His arms closed around her, maybe more tightly than they usually did. Still, he wasn’t moving, and his eyes were focused behind her. He wouldn't be the first to break away the stance.

“Spike, go. Please.”

Her Sire heard the pleading in her whisper. He passed by the enlaced couple, taking long strides toward the door. Buffy observed him above Angel’s shoulder, noticing the way his fists clenched and unclenched repeatedly, the way his jaw was stuck in a stubborn fashion, the way he looked straight ahead, unblinking. His whole body language screamed one word. Pain. There was nothing she could do about it, even if she had known what was wrong with him. But strangely enough, she realized she wished she could.

As the blonde disappeared from her sight, she returned her attention to Angel.

“Let’s go,” she suggested.

He didn’t reply but followed her out. They returned to her home in silence. She was certain he was angry with her, and half expected him to leave her at the door and go back to the mansion. However, he accompanied her inside and up to her room. After closing the door behind him, he asked her the very last thing she would have anticipated.

“Do you love Spike ?”

Her mouth opened without a sound several times before she could force words out. “Of course not!”

The answer was easy, she had given it to both Spike and herself often enough. But she was hurt that Angel could believe that even for a half second, and hurt again when he asked his next question. “Do you love me ?”

“Don’t you know it by now ?” she asked in disbelief.

“You haven’t told me since you returned,” he said quietly.

She hadn’t ?.. No, she hadn’t. She hadn’t felt it was necessary. Apparently, she had been wrong. She stepped closer to him, rising to her toes to brush her lips to his.

“Let me show you exactly how much I love you.”

Part 15

Needs (2)


He had wanted to hear the words, nothing more. But when she pressed her body against his, he accepted what she was proposing. Half closing his eyes, he allowed her tongue to slide in his mouth and rub his own tantalizingly. She was fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, and he was mildly surprised when she gave up and just ripped it off him. Impatient, was she? Her hands immediately started to caress his chest, teasing flat nipples with a nail.

Suddenly, she broke away from him and took a step back. He was about to protest when he noticed her fingers running along the hem of her top, inching it up ever so slowly, revealing pale smooth skin. No bra, a part of his brain registered. As his eyes roamed over her now naked upper body, a growl escaped from his lips.

“Buffy…”

She appeared to hear the need in his voice, and the distance that separated them disappeared. Her breast pressed against his chest as she hooked a leg behind him, pulling him even closer. Her hands were at his neck, pulling his mouth down to hers.

The kiss started slow and tender, but soon it was fire and urgency. He was mindlessly grinding his erection against her, through too many layers of clothes. She seemed to have the same thought, and before long they had divested each other of the remaining of their clothing.

Soon they were on the bed, his fingers running lightly over her body, trying to memorize every single curve, every detail.

“More,” she demanded, her voice husky, her nails digging into his shoulders.

Happy to oblige, he positioned his shaft against her opening and slowly pushed in. She moaned quietly, her legs raising and hooking behind his back. Settling in an unhurried rhythm, he observed her face, her quickly wavering eyelids, the way she panted even though she didn’t need to.

With a groan, he captured her mouth, then hissed in surprised as her fang grazed against his bottom lip, drawing blood. He pulled his face slightly away from hers as she was licking the cut, and focused on his now increasing pace. Her eyes fluttered between yellow and hazel before finally settling on their human form with the rest of her face. Her gaze was pleading.

“Bite me.”

He shook his head slightly. The pressure was building, in him as well as in her.

“Please.”

Her hands pressed against the back of his head, pulling him down toward her offered neck. He nibbled on it with blunt teeth, trying to ignore the most recent marks that marred her beautiful skin. With a quiet cry, her body shuddered violently, bringing him over the edge with her.



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

Part 16

Needs (3)


Buffy rested for a while against Angel, her head on his shoulder, unwanted thoughts cluttering her mind.

He had refused to drink from her. He had refused to let her taste him. She had wanted - no, needed - both things with such intensity, she could have screamed in frustration.

Yes, it had been fine. Sweet and loving, as she remembered him. Tender. Careful. He made her feel like a porcelain doll, too fragile to hold without uttermost care. Caresses as light as butterfly wings, when she had craved to be touched like there would be no tomorrow. She had begged for more. He hadn’t understood.

She hated herself for it, but she couldn’t help comparing him to Spike. Spike who wasn’t afraid to break her, and who sometimes even seemed to try. Spike who knew exactly how much pressure to apply to each inch of her body to make her moan. Spike who could be rough and forceful one minute, and in a blink become gentle and delicate if he read that need in her eyes.

Thoughtlessly, she escaped Angel’s sleepy embrace and slipped on a t-shirt and shorts. Noticing the open window, she walked around the bed toward it. Before drawing the curtains, she threw a quick glance outside. What she saw made her freeze, though not in surprise.

Spike was leaning against the tree, head thrown back, eyes closed. He was dragging heavily on a cigarette. She wondered since when he had been there, just outside her room, just below the window. All of a sudden, his eyes were open and staring straight into hers. And her unasked question was answered. He had been there all along. He had heard all there was to hear. He knew. Her throat tightened, though she wouldn’t have been able to explain why.

* * * * *


It would be easy, so easy to make her come to him. Just a word, really, said with the right voice, and she wouldn’t be able to resist.

He had to see her. She had made him angry earlier when she so foolishly endangered herself. He knew she was alright, but at the same time he had to reassure himself. He needed to touch her, taste her, reaffirm his claim on her. Whoever she slept with, she was his Childe. He had responsibilities to her. And needs only she could satisfy.

“Come.”

A quiet and soft command in the night. He could see her climbing over the window’s edge, and carefully getting down to him, unconcerned by the fact that she was barely clothed. Then she was in front of him, waiting.

His hand rose to her face, caressing her cheek before sliding into her hair. He pulled her to him, his mouth claiming hers in a searing kiss. She responded to his touch by wrapping her arms around him, bringing the length of their bodies in close contact. Deliberately, he shifted to game mask and cut his tongue on his own fang. At the taste of blood, her kiss became fiercer, and she sucked his bleeding tongue into her mouth.

When she pulled away from him, her eyes were glowing with the same gold that shone in his. She didn’t say a word but bared her neck to him, as if she could guess. His mouth descended on the presented skin but he didn’t bite. Not yet. He wanted her to ask for it. Like she had begged the other.

“Please.”

A mere whisper was all he needed. His fangs penetrated her flesh and she groaned, in delight he was sure. Her own mouth found its way to the junction of his neck and shoulder. When she pierced his skin, the thought ran through his mind that she desired this as much as he did.

The first time, in the car, had been about comfort. This was pure need. This was…

A dream.

His eyes shot open, and immediately found hers. She was looking at him from behind her window, immobile.

Yes, it would be easy to make her to come to him, to take what he needed and give what she wanted. But he had been on the Childe side of the command voice before. He remembered how much he had hated it, hated not being able to say no. Hated it even when he wouldn’t have said no if he had had the choice.

He managed to break free of her gaze and walk away, turning one last time to see her close the curtains.

Part 17

Beautiful


Not bothering with knocking, Buffy strode in the crypt. She had never knocked before, she wasn’t about to start now. Not when the occupant of the crypt was stalking her. No respect one way, no respect back.

It took her only a second to find him, sitting on the floor, his back to the wall. His eyes were closed, and she hesitated to wake him. Her anger at finding him below her window the night before had been fueled by a long day stuck at home. Angel had been a little over-possessive, holding her hand or touching her in some way just about all day long, grinning like a schoolboy. Dawn had noticed and understood, acting in response like a spoiled brat, which had annoyed Buffy to no end. Yet now, the irritation was subsiding slowly, and she almost had to remind herself why she was there.

“What do you want Slayer?”

She jumped in surprise at his quiet words. He had not moved an inch, not looked at her, not given any clue he knew she was there.

“We need to talk,” she said firmly.

“We are talking right now.”

She scowled at him, which did no good as his eyes were still closed.

She had thought about her speech for a large part of the day. How she was going to tell him to stop stalking her or even better leave town, otherwise she would dust him. How she was going to be firm and threatening. How she would just make him see it couldn’t go on like that.

Now, she was forgetting all of it.

She went and sat just in front of him, her arms around her legs, her chin resting on her knees. She observed him for a few seconds. She knew every part of him, having studied him often enough when he wasn’t aware of it, but she would never get tired of detailing the sharp angles of his face.

“What is wrong with you ?” she asked quietly.

His laugh was brief and sounded false. “Who said there’s something wrong with me ?”

“Look at me.”

Surprisingly, he did as she requested. The blue of his eyes was pale, almost gray. What she saw there simply confirmed her idea.

“I say it,” she declared. “If there was nothing wrong with you, you wouldn’t be brooding.”

Gold flakes dancing in the blue-gray.

“I am not brooding!”

“What do you call sitting on the floor in the dark ? What about following people, watching them without saying two words to them ?”

He shook his head slowly. “Not people. You.”

“Why ?”

If she had followed her little prepared speech, she wouldn’t have asked why. She knew. He had said it often enough in the past. And even when she denied to his face the truth of his words, hearing them always sent shivers down her spine. Which was exactly why she hadn’t been planning to give him the opportunity to say them now. The hell with planning…

“You are my Childe.”

It took a couple of seconds to her brain to register that he hadn’t said what she expected.

“Your Childe ?” she repeated.

He nodded. “I have to keep an eye on you. Protect you. Can’t let anything happen to you.”

She felt numb as if he had just slapped her. So, he was just doing what he was supposed to ? In a flash she was on her feet and walking away from him. She faced him again, barely containing her fury.

“That Childe stuff, that’s bullshit ! Angel told me what it’s supposed to be like, and it sure doesn’t feel like that for me. You screwed up somehow. Poor Spike. Can’t drain people, can’t even make a vamp the right way. You are…”

“Kiss me.”

In a slow and sinuous motion, he stood, remaining by the wall, not moving toward her at all. Before she knew it, she was inches from him, and her lips were on his. Not understanding what was happening, she watched from a corner of her brain as she rested one hand on his chest and deepened the kiss, exploring his mouth with her tongue. He just let her do, not reciprocating in any manner.

Finally she was able to pull away. Her hand came up to touch her lips as her eyes widened in surprise at what she had just done.

“Any more doubt that you are my Childe ?” he asked, a pained expression on his face.

She shook her head, not in denial but to clear her thoughts. She had heard his words, and had been compelled to obey. She couldn’t not have done as he had asked. It had been like being on autopilot.

“Don’t do that again,” she asked raggedly.

“Wasn’t planning to do it at all,” he said softly. “I just had to show you.”

“Show me the power you have over me ?” she spat angrily.

“No luv. Show you the power you have over me. Just like you couldn’t help obeying, I can’t help needing… to take care of you.”

His hesitation had been brief, but she knew what he had been about to say. He needed her.

There was an easy solution to his need. He just had to command her to do whatever he pleased, and she would literally be his slave. But he hadn’t done any such thing so far. And she believed him when he said he wasn’t going to.

A thought struck her.

“If it is that bad for you… It must be just as bad for Angel.”

Gold danced in his eyes again at the mention of Angel. He walked around her to the fridge and retrieved a bag of blood. She watched with a combination of disgust and fascination as he poured the blood in a large glass and added to it a copious amount of what seemed to be scotch.

“Angel is not my Sire, pet. Angelus is. Remember the last time our friend Angelus was in town ?”

He drained the glass all at once. She remembered. Angelus had run to Dru. Or was it to Dru and Spike ? The idea sent a shiver through her.

“As far as I can figure,” he muttered, as if talking to himself, “the bloody soul makes a kind of barrier. It somewhat mutes the feelings from the Childe/Sire bond. But only for the one who has a soul.”

His sentence finished in a whisper, and without her vampire earring she might not have caught his words.

“If there’s a barrier,” she said with a frown, “why do I feel compelled to obey when you do whatever it was you did ?”

He shrugged, peering into his glass as if surprised to find it empty.

“Don’t know, pet. I guess there are fissures in the wall. Just like you not wanting to dust me.”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense. I don’t want to dust you, but Angel has no problem with it.”

The usual smirk appeared on his lips, but the grin didn’t reach his eyes.

“Again pet, Angel is not Angelus. And even if he was, who said Sires can’t kill their own Childer? Come to think of it, Angelus would have staked me without a second thought. You take care of them, sure, but if they act up you punish. As hard as you want. Up to death if necessary.”

He came back to her, and his fingers brushed against her cheek.

“Now no worry about me killing you, luv. Been there, done that. Once was more than enough.”

Again, the pain. The same she had read in him the night before at the factory.

“You said you wouldn’t ever regret changing me,” she said slowly, making the words half sound like a question.

“I don’t. Doesn’t mean I’m happy about the killing part.”

Buffy felt like a sudden light had just been turned on in her mind, and she wanted to kick herself for not understanding sooner. That was what was wrong ! He was all gloomy and brooding because he had killed her !

“If I say I’m not angry at you, will it make things better ?”

He tilted his head slightly, looking puzzled. She took his hand, the one that had caressed her cheek, and brought it back to her face.

“I mean it. I’m not angry. I understand. And I accept your gift.”

Slowly, his whole face was lightened by a childish grin. The look in his eyes was hopeful but still a little hesitant, as if he didn’t dare believe her words.

“I do mean it,” she repeated.

If she hadn’t known any better, she would have thought he was on the verge of tears.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

She nodded, and forced words out of her tight throat. “I have to go. Patrol. Slayer stuff.”

Still, she wasn’t moving, oddly unwilling to be the one to break the contact. His hand against her cheek felt nice, the stroking motion was soothing. His thumb ran over her lips, tracing her mouth.

“Drink.”

A quiver ran through her at the invitation. She recognized it was only that. An invitation. Not an order against which she was powerless. And yet, she was just as helpless. She had declined his offer before, and felt miserable about it. She had wanted this from someone else, and had been painfully refused. The demon in her was screaming. The soul wasn’t protesting.

He seemed to know the exact second she decided herself. His head tilted just a little as his fingers glided to the back of her head. He didn’t pull her to him, just accompanied her movement. She realized she had shifted to game face without being conscious of it, and bit down.

As his blood flooded her mouth, everything else disappeared. She felt her knees weaken, and was grateful for the arm that sneaked around her waist, holding her against him, supporting her. She had fed before leaving the house, but this was not about feeding. It was about a Sire and his Childe, sharing the one thing that had brought them together in the first place.

Too soon, she stopped herself. As she gave a gentle lick to her marks, he let go his embrace, freeing her. He kissed her still-bumpy forehead, murmuring three soft words against her skin. And she understood that he loved the demon in her just as much as he loved the woman.

She left the crypt without saying anything, his words still echoing in her mind.

You are beautiful.

Part 18

Demons


The door closed softly behind Buffy, and Spike sighed loudly. Just being close to her was intoxicating, let alone having her lips on his skin. It had been a struggle not to claim her in return. Hell, he had wanted it so much… If she had proposed, he would have taken. But she hadn’t. And he had been too conscious of one thing. She would have to leave him to go back to Angel. And the poof would not have understood his girl wearing another’s mark.

He poured himself a glass of scotch, not bothering with blood this time. Feeding with the chip was a chore. Bloody bags…

His pupils widened as he heard the faint creak of the door, his nose catching a familiar scent. Cursing silently, he drained his glass and filled it again. He kept his back to the other man, aware of his complete vulnerability.

“If you’re going to dust me, do it now and skip the bloody talk. If not, just sod off.”

He was just a couple of steps behind Spike now. The blonde could feel the muscles of his back get tense in anticipation of the blow that was certainly coming.

“You were wrong, boy. Angelus wouldn’t have staked you. He would have taken great pleasure in torturing you. You would have been begging for death before he was even half done with you.”

Spike kept silent and waited. Too much tension in that voice. More was coming, and it wouldn’t be pretty.

“Give me a drink.”

Spike thoughtlessly filled a glass with the same alcohol he had been drinking and was already turning to his Sire before he realized what had just happened. He clenched his teeth and thrust the glass to Angel. The brunette grabbed it and took a slow sip.

“How do you like it, boy? It’s better to be on the other side, isn’t it? More fun to give commands than to have to obey them.”

He didn’t see it coming. Angel’s palm landed right on his cheek. He was a bit stunned, not because of the force of the blow, but because it had only been a slap. The kind a parent gives in anger. Not even very hard. Humiliation filled him.

“I never knew until today that you were stupid, boy. Crazy, yes, as much as Dru in your own way. But stupid, I wouldn’t have suspected.”

Blue eyes met brown ones squarely. They had played that little game before, but this time Spike wouldn’t give in. He wasn’t the same person he had been the last time such a confrontation happened. Neither of them was.

“Turning her, making her your Childe, giving her a soul, letting her get away from you, ordering her to drink from you,” Angel counted on his fingers. “No doubt, you’re completely stupid. You just want me to hurt you, don’t you?”

Another slap. Harder, this time, but Spike was ready and he didn’t flinch.

“You were right about one point. The soul does soften the bond. Which means you’re the only one hurting here, boy. She’s just fine without you. And so am I. How does it feel to be so unneeded?”

Angel’s eyes narrowed in mixed surprise and anger as Spike laughed, throwing his head back.

“Skip the act, Peaches. I heard you tell the Slayer about your Childer. Touching, really. So leaving us was hard? Guess what. Dru and me were very happy without you. A bloody glorious time, we had. So who feels unneeded now?”

Angel threw his glass against the wall behind Spike, alcohol and shards of glass scattering all around. Gold seeped through the brown of his eyes until it had almost completely taken over. Then abruptly, it was gone and it was his turn to laugh mockingly.

“I heard you too, boy. Can’t say I really remember the last time Angelus was around, but from what I heard it didn’t take long for Dru to decide who she wanted most. Maybe you can enlighten me and fill in the blanks about what you did?”

Weirdly enough, the words hurt more than the hits had. Being rejected by Dru had been bad enough. But realizing he was jealous of her just as much as he was jealous of him had been simply sickening.

“I got rid of you, that’s what I did,” the blonde spat. “The Slayer was the one to send you to hell, but I helped her. And I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again if you hurt her.”

Angel took a step closer, and was now looming over the younger vampire. The look on his face was pure hatred, yet the voice was ice and quiet. From experience, Spike knew it was more dangerous than a shout would have been.

“If I hurt her, boy? Who’s the one yanking on her chain? Forcing her to feed from you?”

Spike wanted to tell him that she had fed willingly, not because she had been ordered to. It would have felt so good to let that little piece of knowledge bring pain to Angel, payback for all the pain he had endured in a century. But doing so would also eventually harm Buffy. So he did what had always been the hardest thing for him. He kept his mouth shut.

“She doesn’t need to be reminded of what she is,” Angel continued coldly. “Feeding from someone is not necessary for her to live, so don’t you try and put ideas in her mind.”

Spike stared incredulously at his Sire.

“Is that a joke? Have you been bagging it for so long that you have forgotten what it’s like? Bloody hell, she’s been turned four days ago! Even with the sodding soul, the demon is there. And she has had no time to learn to control it. Feed from people is what vampires do. She’s a vampire. That’s what she needs! The fact that she won’t harm humans doesn’t mean she doesn’t crave biting!”

“Won’t you ever shut up!”

Closed fist, this time. Spike managed not to take a step back, still holding his ground. His tongue darted out, catching the blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. He would have returned the blow happily, but had recognized both in the voice and eyes of Angel something he had seen only a couple of times in Angelus. An anger that could lead to very, very painful consequences.

“Don’t move.”

Again, a command Spike couldn’t disobey. His fists clenched as Angel circled around him, and he forced himself to look straight ahead and ignore his Sire’s actions. The brunette stopped behind him and whispered in his ear, threatening.

“You will stop spying on her. You will leave her alone. You will not order her around ever again. Because if you continue your game, boy, I swear I will make you wish it was Angelus you had to deal with.”

Spike howled in pain as Angel’s fangs sank into his flesh, millimeters from the marks Buffy had left earlier. She had been gentle and soft, almost loving. This was about pure domination. The violent bite seemed to last forever, and Spike couldn’t help but remember the night Dru had chosen him. This was exactly what it felt like. Angel was draining him.

Eventually, his Sire let go of him, and Spike fell to his knees, struggling not to simply pass out.

“Remember my words, William. Stay the hell away from us.”

In a few quick strides, Angel was out of the crypt, leaving his Childe on the floor. It took Spike several hours before he could summon the force to stand and feed.

* * * * *


Angel was so angry he couldn’t shake off his demon face. If he had stayed one minute more in that crypt, he would have staked his pathetic excuse for a Childe. Hell, he might be going back and finish the job before the night was over. In the meantime, he was going to find as many vamps and demons as he could and do some serious carnage.

No, angry was nowhere near close enough to describe what he was feeling. Burning fury. Blinding rage.

He shouldn’t have let Buffy go to Spike. She had explained she had to have a serious discussion with him, to stop him from stalking her. She had pleaded to go alone, knowing very well that Angel couldn’t refuse her. At least, not that. It had been his first mistake, letting her go without him. He had realized it quickly, and gone after her into the night. Not to spy on her, he told himself. Just to make sure she would be alright.

He had stayed by the open door, listening and watching every second of what he thought would be an argument or a fight. He had been first puzzled by her behavior, then stunned to discover Spike had made her his Childe. So stunned he hadn’t been able to do anything when her Sire had forced her to feed from him. She had been so upset about it, she had walked right by Angel as she left, and not noticed him.

His biggest mistake had been not to dust Spike. He had been so close. And yet, he hadn’t been able to make himself do it. He told himself it was because Buffy had made him promise. He understood why, now. Even with a weakened bond, the thought of losing her Sire was probably too painful for the demon to accept. He would show her she was much more than a demon. And when she saw that, she would be able to take revenge herself. He couldn’t believe what she had said about not being angry. Again that was the demon talking, not her, not his Buffy.

As he haunted Sunnydale’s cemeteries and dark alleys, his rage slowly decreased with each creature he killed. When the sky began to lighten with the promise of sunrise, he made his way back to Revello Drive. Exhausted, he spooned against an already sleeping Buffy, holding her possessively against him.

Part 19

Memory and Hope


During the next few days, Buffy settled into a quiet routine. Wake up early, prepare breakfast and lunch for Dawn. Get back in bed for a few hours, cuddle with Angel, try not to ask what she now was sure he wouldn’t give. Help Dawn with her homework or check that she had reached the Magic Box safely. Cook dinner for Willow, Giles, Dawn and sometimes herself. Go out at sundown, patrol with Angel until morning. Catch a couple of hours of sleep before starting again.

And while doing all that, try to resolve the few matters that occupied her mind.

First thing, she needed a job, a hobby, something to do or think about during the long hours she was stuck home. She was considering taking either distance or evening classes, and had requested courses catalogues from the local Community College.

Then, Dawn hated Angel. No, hate wasn’t a word strong enough. She abhorred him. Every time he entered a room, she would get completely mute and start scowling, or simply leave. Buffy had tried to get her to say what was wrong. All she had gotten had been a nasty look and the cryptic suggestion to go ask Spike.

Spike himself was the third point. He had given up. After all that talk about needing his Childe, she hadn’t seen him since she had left his crypt still quivering from the feel of his blood running in her. She had been extra attentive during patrols and tried to catch a glimpse of either him or his scent, but nothing. She had thought of paying him a little visit, just to make sure he was alright, but she didn’t want to explain to Angel where she was going alone and why. And she certainly didn’t want him to accompany her. She knew if she went to Spike, she would eventually end with her fangs in his neck, and maybe his in hers. She couldn’t allow that to happen, even if she desired it with her whole being - demon and soul. It felt exactly like it had just a few weeks ago, when she was sleeping with him. No, she didn’t want to
fall in that pit again, even if… No. Absolutely not. She wouldn’t be cheating on Angel, metaphorically or not. She felt a little guilty about the other night. Yet at the same time, she was telling herself drinking from Spike had been a necessity. He had needed it, and so had she. And she still did, as Angel wouldn’t allow her to bite him.

Angel was the biggest matter occupying her mind. Something was off with him. She had asked him again, just once more, to share blood with her. She had felt tears sting her eyes when he had flatly refused. She was beginning to understand why. Every now and then, he would explain about how she was a wonderful woman, not a demon. She had tried to point out that she was just like him, and, soul or no soul, they were vampires. That had started a long night of brooding. It was as if he still hadn’t accepted her turning. It had been a week already. She had accepted it, so had Dawn, her friends and her Watcher. But the one person who should have best understood her now seemed to be the one who refused to see her as what she was. It pained her very in ways she wouldn’t have thought possible.

The phone ringing pulled her out of her thoughts. She had been sitting with Dawn in the kitchen, watching and helping when she could as the teen worked on her math homework. Usually she would have asked Anya for help - the ex-demon had a thing for numbers, as long as you added a dollar sign next to them. But the bride to be was too overexcited to Dawn’s liking, with the wedding being only two days away.

Before Buffy could rise, Dawn had already answered - phone calls were usually for her at this hour. But not this time. She put the phone down on the table, and announced coldly : “It’s for him.”. Buffy brought the phone to Angel, who was napping in the living room, and gave him some privacy. A few minutes later, he was hurrying into the kitchen, his face more expressive than she ever remembered seeing.

“Connor his back !” he said excitedly. “That was my friends in LA. He’s just back…”

Amazement filled his features, as well as pure joy.

“That’s good,” Buffy said gently. “He’s ok ?”

The barest touch of a frown.

“They said he’s older. Different. But ok.”

Again, undiluted joy. For a brief second she regretted the time when she was able to bring him that kind of happiness.

“I have to go there as fast as I can,” he added after a pause. “I’ll leave as soon as the sun sets.”

Buffy nodded. “I understand.”

He took her hand and squeezed it lightly. “I can’t wait for you see him. You’ll see, he’s beautiful. I guess you could move after the wedding. That will give me a couple of days to get everything ready.”

At the same moment, Buffy and Dawn said the same word, but with quite different tones. Puzzlement for Buffy, horror for her sister. “Move ?”

“Yes, move to LA,” he continued, his face beaming. “We’ll find a good school for Dawn and you can…”

“No !”

That was the first time Dawn had spoken directly to Angel in days. “I am so not moving anywhere with you !” she spat angrily. “You big… stupid… brooding …poof !”

With that last word, she ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Her door banged loudly. Buffy hesitated between following her and talking with Angel. With a sigh, she sat down. Stalling wouldn’t help anything.

“I’m sure she’ll change her mind,” Angel said optimistically. “She’ll love LA. In no time…”

“Angel…” Buffy interrupted softly. “I am really happy that you get to be with your son again. But we are not... I am not moving in with you.”

Hell… Life had a nasty way to force decisions on her when she wasn’t quite ready for them yet… She watched as surprise wiped away all other emotions on his face. He sat down next to her, his hands reaching for both of hers.

“Buffy…”

She shook her head lightly before he could go on. She couldn't hear pleading now, she might not be able to resist, and it would be a mistake.

“It’s not going to work, Angel. You and I have been waiting for each other a long time. Too long. You are not the same man I fell in love with. And I have changed too. I’m not only talking about becoming a vampire, but that’s the part you seem to have the biggest problem with.”

She felt the tears come to her eyes, and fought them back with all the willpower she could muster. She was not going to cry now. Later, yes. But not now. She observed his eyes, reading pain in them, but also understanding.

“You were never in danger of losing your soul.” she stated quietly. “Just me being a vamp tears you apart, doesn’t it ?”

Angel nodded. “Before…” he whispered slowly, “You were making me feel like I was human again. Now it just reminds me… how close to the surface Angelus can be.”

He smiled sadly, tears clouding his eyes. “You deserved so much more.”

“I wouldn’t have gotten anything, Angel. I was dying. Whatever I am now, I get to see Dawn grow up. See my friends get married. And so many other things I would have missed. You tried to keep seeing me as the human Buffy. But the vampire part is there. I can’t just forget it exists. It’s as much me as the Slayer is me. Am I making any sense here ?”

She wasn’t sure she was being very clear, formulating out loud thoughts that had only been half formed in her mind. Yet she could see she was right. He wasn’t contradicting her in any way, so she had to be right. It hurt like hell to let go. But they couldn’t keep going like that, each of them in love with what the other had been but wasn’t any more.

“I’ll always love you,” he said softly. “You know that, right ?”

She smiled and brought his hand up to her lips. “I know. And so will I. Just not like that any more.”

He nodded, and his eyes moved away from her. “I’ll go get my things ready.”

She watched him walk out of the kitchen. He had been so happy about Connor, it broke her heart to have announced it was over now. Hopefully, being with his son would make him forget soon enough.

Resting her head on the table, she allowed the tears to finally come. She had no doubt that this was the only sensible thing to do. Still, it was hard to finally give up on a memory and hope she had cherished for years. A thought eventually dried the tears. Her Sire would be there for her. He had promised to take care of her.

Of course, that was before he suddenly stopped keeping an eye on her.

Part 20

Drawing


The sun had set a few minutes before, and Angel had left. Sitting on her bed, Buffy was turning between her hands a closed envelope. She had many things to do still. Talk to Dawn, get some kind of dinner ready, go patrol, check on Spike maybe. And yet there she was, in her room, staring at a thin envelope with her name on it.

He had asked her not to open it until he was gone. Now she wasn’t sure whether she would ever open it. All had been said, there really was nothing
to add.

With a sigh, she finally tore it open and pulled out a single sheet of paper. As she unfolded it, her eyes filled with tears at what she discovered, just as a smile bloomed on her lips. So that was what she looked like with the game face…

On the thin paper were two pencil drawings of her. One, her face as she remembered it from long ago. Human, smiling, filled with complete happiness. When had she last been that happy ? The other was familiar too, though in a different way. The usual ridges and bumps of a vampire distorting a face that was quite clearly hers. If the first portrait radiated joy,
the second one had an idea of power about it. Force. And also, a quiet light of mischief in the unhuman eyes.

When she was able to stop detailing the features she would never see in a mirror, her gaze found the few words scribbled at the bottom of the page.

He was right about one thing. His Childe is truly beautiful.

Instantly, her smile disappeared, replaced by a worried frown. Dawn’s words came back to her mind, her shout to go ask Spike why she was mad at Angel. Also, Angel’s words earlier, about Angelus being close to the surface. And now this. The quiet revelation that he knew she was Spike’s Childe, and that he had been there when she saw the vampire a few days before. When she saw him last…

Her hand clutched the drawing as she rushed out of her room and down the steps, an absolute certainty filling her. Angel had done something to Spike. Something bad enough to prevent him from looking out after her. Spike was hurt. Or worse…

She had to know. She had to see him. Now !

And she did, just as soon as she opened the front door.

Approaching the house together were Dawn and Spike. A very sulky Dawn and a strangely frail looking Spike. Without a second thought, she ran to him and threw herself into his arms.

“Oh thank God ! I thought he had killed you !”

The simple feel of his hand rubbing her back gently sent shivers down to her toes.

“He almost did kill him,” Dawn announced, the anger in her voice barely contained. “And I am not going anywhere with that jerk !”

Buffy managed to pull herself out of the sweet embrace and looked at Dawn kindly. “We are not moving, Dawnie. I don’t want to either. He is gone.”

Then, the rest of what the teen had said penetrated her mind. Her eyes ran over Spike’s form. He looked ill, which was a stupid thought because vampires didn’t get ill.

“What happened ?” she asked quietly.

He shook his head slowly, a faint smile playing on his lips. “It doesn’t matter, pet. I’ll live, so to speak.”

Frowning, Buffy turned to Dawn. “You know what happened. Tell me.”

The teen gave a quick look toward Spike before crossing her arms decidedly.
“I can’t. I promised.”

Annoyed, Buffy turned her back to them and returned to the house, knowing
they would follow. She needed to feed. When she had hugged him, she had
had to restrain herself not to take advantage of her ‘permanent invitation’
right then and there. Feeding might make things easier. Thoughtlessly, she readied two mugs, warming them in the microwave.

As she expected, Dawn and Spike entered the house and joined her in the kitchen. Spike just leaned against the wall, a thoughtful frown on his face as he watched Dawn raid the fridge.

“You could have cooked dinner at least,” the teen grumbled.

“I was going to,” Buffy started, then stopped as she realized something. “What the hell where you doing outside after sunset ?!”

The teen froze, throwing a quick glance toward Spike before answering. “It’s not like I was in any danger. Spike was with me.”

Getting more suspicious by the minute, Buffy planted her hands on her hips. “Either you were with him before sunset, or you were alone in the dark at least for a while. Which one ?”

“I went to his crypt,” Dawn admitted between clenched teeth. “I couldn’t stay one minute more in the same house as that big idiot.”

“So you ran away,” Buffy said flatly.

“Slayer, it’s not…”

Buffy shot a nasty look at Spike and he quieted instantly.

“She ran away, there’s no other word for it. And she’ll have to deal with the consequences.”

Her attention returned to the teen who looked even more sullen than before. “You’re grounded for a month. And you can’t go see Spike until further notice. Now go to your room.”

Dawn looked at Spike pleadingly, but he just shook his head. With a sigh, she left the kitchen. Irritated by both of them, Buffy retrieved the two mugs from the microwave. She put one on the table and busied herself with the other. After a few seconds, seeing how he was just looking at her without noticing the mug that was his, she gestured to it with her own.

“You don’t expect me to bring it to you on a silver tray, do you ?”

He blinked several times and his eyes shifted briefly to the table before
coming back to her.

“I missed you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Her irritation disappeared instantly and she couldn’t help smiling. “Me too.”


* * * * *


He would have given the world for one of her smiles, if the world had been his to give. He would have stopped feeding off humans, if the chip wasn’t preventing him from it anyway. He would have done just about anything she asked. Just for another smile.

Finally listening to his demon who was raging both at the scent of blood and at the proximity of his Childe, he moved to the table and sat down in front of the mug she had prepared for him. He would have preferred to remain standing, but he didn’t feel that steady. His hand was slightly shaking as he drained the warm liquid in one long swallow. It calmed the demon, just a little.

“What did he do to you ?” Buffy asked softly.

Tilting his head, he observed her, considering whether to tell her or not that the poof had quite simply taken every drop of blood from his body. It wasn’t something that could kill a vampire. But it was enough to have weakened him so much it was the first time he was out of the crypt in days. And he would need time before being back to his normal self. The message had been clear, however. Spike’s blood was not for his Childe, or so did the poof think. But now he was gone, and so were his threats.

It had surprised Spike when Angel didn’t use his Sire voice to order him to stay away from Buffy. After thinking about it for a while, he had understood why. By leaving to Spike the choice to obey or not, Angel had kept the possibility to punish him again if he had chosen to transgress. He would have enjoyed it, probably hoped for it. And Spike would have given him his wish in a few more days. Not that he was suicidal, he just couldn’t have helped himself.

But now the poof was gone… And Buffy didn’t need to know any details.

“I pissed him off, pet.” He said with a smirk. “So he punished me. It’s no big deal.”

She didn’t say a word, but her eyes shouted a thousand. Not wanting to give in and blabber like a kid, like he had spilled to the Nibblet when she came visit him, he looked away from her, his gaze falling on a crumbled sheet of paper on the table. Picking it up curiously, he smoothed the wrinkles out, unable to repress a smile at what he saw.

“One sure thing about the master of broodiness, he can use a pencil.”

His grin widened when he saw the few words at the bottom. He would have to find a way to keep that paper. When she wouldn’t be looking, he would make it disappear into one of his pockets. He just had to have it.

“Keep it. If you want it.”

His eyes shot back to her in surprise. He was sure she was joking. But no, she seemed serious. And again, she was giving him the light of her smile.

“Thanks luv. I always wanted a written admission from the poof that I was right about something.”

She arched an eyebrow, and her smile became mocking. “Yeah right. Next
you’re going to say you don’t care about seeing me.”

Folding the drawing carefully, he slipped it in the inside pocket of his coat as he rose to his feet. He felt a bit better now, still tired but less wobbly. He walked to her until her body was trapped between the sink and him.

“I do care about seeing you,” he said in a low and hoarse voice. “I thought I had made that clear long ago, luv. ”

He ran a finger on her lips, wiping off traces of blood.

“Tss. Someone here needs to learn how to feed neatly.”

He saw her eyes follow his movements as he brought the finger to his mouth and licked the blood off. At the same moment, her tongue darted out and ran over her lips. He knew that look. Bloodlust. She probably wasn’t hungry since she had just fed, but the demon needed more than blood. It needed the bite. And unless the poof had seen the light, which Spike doubted very much, she had taken no bite in quite a few days. Spike felt still somewhat weak, but he couldn’t deny her what he knew she craved. He understood all too well.

“Go ahead, luv,” he said gently. “I know you need it.”

To his amazement, she shook her head slightly. “You’re not well. I don’t want to…”

He placed a finger across her lips to silence her. He wouldn’t have thought she had enough control to refuse to herself what her demon must have been screaming for.

“It’s ok Buffy. As long as you don’t take too much I’ll be just fine.”

Lightly, she traced the scars on his neck. Hers, and Angel’s.

“So that’s what he did to you ?” she whispered. “He took too much ?”

“Yes luv,” he answered just as quietly.

“He did it because of me. Because I bit you.”

“No. He did it because I reminded him that even with a soul you still need to feed. And so does he, even if he’d rather forget it.”

Her eyes left his neck to meet his gaze. “What about you ?”

He nodded, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. “Same for me.”

“So, all this time, you knew I was the only human you could hurt, the only one you could bite and feed from. All this time the demon inside you was yelling to get my blood. And you never did. Even when I was too far gone to care. Why ?”

“Do you really need to ask, luv ?”

He could give her a few reasons, really, just from the top of his head. For one thing, he had wanted to be there for her, to make her ‘feel’, as she said; his own comfort wasn’t part of the deal. Also, she wouldn’t have understood, not knowing what it was like to battle a demon. She called him a monster often enough, he hadn’t wanted to give her more reasons. He knew she didn’t want her chums to know, and a bite mark would have made them twitch. On and on, the list went. But the main reason was simply that he loved her too much to take something she wasn’t offering first.

Slowly, she shook her head. “I know,” she just said.

And then she did something he hadn’t expected, hadn’t dared hope for. She offered.

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