Alone No More

Chapter 1

“Where to, pet?”

“It’s time to do a little reconnaissance. Where’s the Watcher’s Council headquarters?”

Beside her, Spike grinned. All seasoned vampires knew the location to the building, but never had one dared to set foot near the place. The rebel in him rose to the challenge. Besides, he liked to live dangerously…it gave his demon such a rush.

With a grin at his unlikely cohort, he raced off into the night, Buffy right by his side.

~*~*~*~*~

“They seem rather arrogant, doncha’ think?” she whispered to Spike as she scanned the building looking for guards.

“’S that stiff British upper lip…think they’re impenetrable to siege.”

“It can’t be that simple…surely they must have some means of keeping you out.” She looked over the simple layout. Tucked away in the countryside, surrounded by a gate that looked intimidating to the common person, yet looked easily passable by someone of her and Spike’s abilities, the Council headquarters sat surrounded by trees and shrubberies. Nice of them to provide a decent cover once they slipped over the fence. Buffy gave Spike a sidelong look and noticed his arched brow.

“What? I’m just saying… there’s no crosses, no garlic…which reminds me…does garlic even work?”

Beside her, Spike just rolled his eyes.

“And, there’s no dogs…nothing. It’s like they think they’re God or something.”

“Bloody wankers,” Spike mumbled under his breath.

“Tell me, not once in all the time you’ve been a vampire… you never tried to get inside the Council’s headquarters.”

“Didn’t wanna waste my time, pet. Much rather seek out the slayer than the people that thought they ran the show. Knew where the real power lay,” he told her honestly.

“Oh…yeah…I guess so. But still, no one else…no other vampire, or demon, for that matter?”

“Dunno, slayer. Can’t speak for others. But, you’re right. It does seem kinda easy…and that fence is pretty laughable. Come on, let’s take us a gander around back…see if there’s any guards lurking about.”

The two slipped from their hiding space and skirted the fence that surrounded the building.

“Do you see anything?” she whispered.

He shook his head.

“Smell anything?”

She watched as his human guise slipped away revealing the amber eyes, ridged brow, and fangs that were his demon trademark. Again he shook his head in the negative.

“Then, it’s gotta be the building…something there has got to prevent demons from getting inside.”

“Dunno, slayer.”

“Well, we’ll just case the place then make our move tomorrow. Besides, we need to grab our bags from their hiding spot and find us a place to crash for the night,” she told him, patting the money belt strapped around her waist.

Side-by-side, the two watched the infrequent comings and goings of the men and women as they went about their duties. Around 1 a.m., they noticed that there was a lull in activity and Buffy decided that would be the best time to slip inside.

“Think we can find what we’re looking for in four hours?” Any longer than that then they had to worry about getting Spike safely out of the building.

“Knowing them, they’ll have a stash of books in a library.”

“And, if they’re anything like Giles, they’ll have it catalogued and cross-catalogued,” she snickered, a brief glimpse of the carefree slayer she used to be managing to break through.

Spike looked over at her and smiled.

“Right then, let’s go find us a room. We’ll come back tomorrow and nick us some research materials.”

The two black-clad figures slipped away into the night.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike directed the slayer to a cheesy motel in the Soho district. With their leather and badass attitudes, the two easily blended in to the carefree atmosphere that had come to life as soon as the sun had gone down. Walking beside the slayer, Spike breathed deeply of the sex and blood permeating the air and licked his lips in anticipation. After he made sure she was safely ensconced in their room, he’d slip off to grab a bite to eat – take in a little night life to secure them some weapons and maybe some more information on the Order.

Buffy hurried up to the window and quickly paid for their room, grabbing some money from her front pocket. She could sense the blond-headed vampire twitching to be off, so she forged their info as fast as possible and snagged the key the proprietor dangled in front of her. She snatched it out of his hand, rolling her eyes at the leer he gave her, and made her way back to Spike.

“Let’s get you all settled for the night, slayer,” he told her, grabbing the key from her hand as well as the bag she was carrying. She looked ready to drop, the two not having stopped since they left the airport earlier in the evening.

She gratefully conceded the bags and the key and labored up the steps to their room on the third floor. Around her the smell of sex and drugs hung heavily in the air – she ignored them, just like she ignored the occasional screams of passion that could be heard from behind closed doors. Buffy wanted nothing more than to take a shower and crawl into bed.

Spike paused in front of their door, his face shifting to bring forth his demon as he inserted the key.

“Wait here,” he told her, then slipped inside. A few minutes later, he was back announcing, “All clear,” his human mask once more in place.

Buffy nodded and slipped inside. She was grateful he had the foresight to check – she was so damn tired, the Order could have been knee deep inside the room and she would never have known.

Spike dropped their bags on the floor and walked over to the slayer. Dark circles rimmed her kohl-lined eyes making them appear even more sunken in her pale face. She looked ready to drop on her feet, physically and emotionally, and he was tempted to forgo feeding for the night to keep an eye on her. He moved to pull off his duster to do just that, but her words forestalled him.

“No, Spike. You need to go. I’ll be alright. Just gonna shower and go to bed.”

“You sure, pet. I could stay. Just till you fell asleep.”

“No…the quicker you go…the better chance you have of getting some more information for us. It’s ok. I’ll be alright.”

“Alright, pet. I won’t be far.”

She nodded at him and moved off towards the bathroom. Spike silently let himself out of the room and set about securing himself some dinner.

~*~*~*~*~

He’d gotten no further than the alley before he found his first meal. Images of the three men beating on his slayer played before his mind as he listened to the sounds of a man being beaten and robbed. Allowing his demon to slide forth, he slipped into the darkened alley and made quick work of the defenseless man’s attacker.

Licking his lips clean, he left the crying man where he lay huddled against the wall and moved out of the alley. He walked in the direction of the nearest bar and hoped he’d find someone inside that could provide him with weapons and information.

He easily fit into the crowd of the club, leather being the prerequisite for attire. Wary of the crowds and their ease in concealing potential Order assassins, he made quick work of getting the things he needed. So, it wasn’t but a couple of hours later that he was returning to the room he shared with the slayer.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike placed the weapons he had managed to acquire that night on the table next to the bed. He glanced at the bed and noticed the huddled figure of the slayer beneath the covers on one side. Since he’d been back, he’d noticed her slipping deeper into sleep, finally able to relax her guard now that he was nearby.

He quickly stripped, tossing his jeans and t-shirt onto a chair and slipped into bed beside her – not surprised when his bare body encountered her own naked frame. There was no point in them wearing clothes, they’d just end up stripping them off of the other sometime during the early morning as they took what comfort they could in physical contact.

He had no illusions that she cared for him, right now she needed him, and he made her forget for just a little while. But, there where times when he thought that she saw him…him…not just a replacement lover, someone that gave her comfort and made her feel. It was those moments he’d come to crave.

And, if he really thought about it, he couldn’t say why. She was the enemy; they’d only formed a truce as their need for survival overcame their hatred for the other. Maybe it had started in the sewers of Sunnydale, as they’d looked out for each other as the two tried to stay one step ahead of the Order.

Things had just seemed to progress from there.

Not wanting to dwell on his wayward thoughts, he pulled the slayer close and attempted to sleep. She rolled over, facing him, head coming to rest on his arm as she wrapped her own around his back. Sighing contentedly, she drifted back into a deep sleep.

Wrapping his arms around her back, he too, drifted off to sleep.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy tried to twist her body…increase the contact of her skin against his. She need more, now. And harder. It had to be harder. But he ignored her, and her need. She whimpered, ready to beg. Her body was held, suspended over the precipice, ready to fly. But he wouldn’t let her. His slow movements were bringing her no release…just building her higher and higher.

She wanted to fall, to seek the final destination she could only find with him. She struggled to reach for it, pulling him closer to her…tighter. A groan escaped from her parted lips as she felt him finally lie flush against her fevered body.

“Spike…” Her eyes fluttered open as dreams were pushed away and reality intruded.

He shifted her to her back and thrust deep when he noticed she was there with him; her back arched, her head thrust back into the pillow when he finally gave her what she wanted…needed.

“More,” she panted. Spike complied, increasing his thrusts and grinding his pelvic bone against her swollen clit. She keened her delight, gripping him tightly to her. In answer, he thrust harder, deeper.

Her hands slipped to his ass – urging him even faster as her fingernails dug into the smooth, pale flesh and left crescent marks on the surface. He groaned, licking his lips as he felt his canines extend, watched with amber colored eyes the rapid beating of her jugular as it pulsed with her excitement.

His eyes closed as he felt her inner walls clamp down on his cock as her orgasm rushed through her body. His head lowered to her neck and he struck, sinking his fangs deep, drawing her enriched blood into his mouth. He moaned as he tasted and swallowed greedily the sweet elixir only she could provide. Beneath him, he felt her arch into him as the pleasure-pain became too much.

She clutched him tightly – her blunt nails digging so deep that she broke the skin on his back – as her second orgasm caused her body to tremble, and Spike could no longer hold back his own. As her pussy massaged his length, he filled her with his release, a hoarse, “slayer” bursting from his lips. Thoroughly spent, he collapsed on top of her, mindful of her neck as he carefully removed his fangs and licked the marks closed.

He felt her sigh as her arms moved from his ass, up along his back, holding him close as he nuzzled her neck. She didn’t seem to mind his weight, and lay on top of her as he laved his marks with his tongue until he felt her breathing even out once more, indicating her slumber. Finally, he rolled off of her and pulled her close, as he too, drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 2

The sound of crying, muffled amidst the cadence of the shower, pulled him from a fitful sleep. He rolled over, squinting towards the lone window as the sun attempted to pry its way around the edges of the thick curtains covering it. Flopping onto his back as the barely-distinguishable sounds of her wails reached his ears, Spike fisted his hands at his side in frustration.

There was just something about the broken slayer’s weeping that struck a cord in his unbeating heart. He frowned, growling in frustration. What was it to him if she bawled in the bathtub? He was evil. He could care less about her tears! She was just a good fuck until the two of them defeated the Order. Hell, then they’d probably have that last dance…add another slayer to his notch.

And, therein lay the rub.

She wasn’t just an easy lay, a willing body.

There was something about her willingly giving him her blood that seemed to erase all of the mortal enemy barriers between the two. They’d gone into this quest as reluctant partners, but as the days played out, they’d seemed to rely more and more on the other, trusting that the other would keep them safe when they were at their most vulnerable.

After almost losing her to those three attackers back stateside, he’d become very possessive of the slayer – looking out for her like she was his.

Disgusted with himself for feeling this way, and at the slayer for making him feel this way, Spike threw himself out of bed and stalked naked towards the bathroom. The door stood partially open, probably so she could hear if someone were to discover them again, and he pushed it open, ignoring the steam that enveloped him as he stepped inside. His gaze locked on the petite form of the slayer as she stood under the shower, her arms braced against the wall in front of her, her body shaking as she sobbed.

Growling again at his softening feelings, Spike shoved the translucent curtain aside and climbed in behind her. His arms lifted, enabling him to clasp her shoulders to turn her around and pull her body towards his. He felt her stiffen at the contact – tears momentarily suspended in surprise. Then, her body nestled against his in a comforting embrace and his unexpected compassion restarted her weeping.

In the shower, the two mortal enemies clung to one another as the slayer gave in to her grief.

When the water started to run cold and the last of the shudders wracking the slayer’s slim frame faded away, Spike reached behind her and cut off the taps. His gentleness surprised him as he dealt with the slayer – easing out of her grasp to snag some towels from the metal rack and wrapping them around her dripping body – and he told himself he just wanted her to stop with her incessant sniveling so that he could actually get some more rest. She wasn’t the only one pulling long hours of wakefulness, senses attuned to the slightest ripple that appeared out of place. Frankly, his reserves were on low and he needed the restorative healing a deep slumber provided. And he repeated that litany to himself as he swept her pliant form up into his bare arms and resettled them into bed.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy woke a few hours later and carefully disentangled herself from the vampire’s protective grasp. Rising from the bed, she turned and watched his unnaturally still form as he slept on. His permanently evil countenance appeared nonexistent as he rested, his features soft as if that of an angel. Sinful thoughts to be sure, especially given what he was. But, as she gazed at him, sleeping so peacefully, he appeared almost human.

A strange pang centering in her abdomen brought her from the silent musing of her reluctant partner, and she gazed down at her naked frame in confusion. It took her a moment to realize that it was hunger pains making themselves known. Her eyes widened in shock that she was actually hungry. Hungry. As in, all-you-can-eat buffet, wheel-me-out-when-I’m-done kind of hungry.

Hurriedly dressing in the new clothes of her “goth-ish” look, Buffy grabbed the key and made her way out of the apartment and down to the streets of Soho.

~*~

She’d never traveled out of California, so the trip across the ocean to London was an eye-opening experience. At another time, in another life, she would have fully appreciated the sights and sounds that assaulted her senses and enjoy playing tourist in a different land. But, things were different.

She wasn’t that girl anymore.

She was on the hunt with an evil vampire as her sole companion.

Steely resolve stiffening her spine, Buffy set off to find food while surreptitiously examining the area for possible Order assassins. Figuring a bar would be the best place to keep a low profile, she walked along the streets until locating one that seemed to cater to her “crowd.” Ironically, it was the same place Spike had visited the night before.

No one paid the girl any mind, especially after she put someone almost twice her size – and a little on the drunk side – out of commission by stopping the hand that reached towards her body, grabbing his wrist and twisting it behind the behemoth’s back and pinning him to the wall before he even had a chance to voice a protest.

She never opened her mouth to protest his attempted manhandling, but the sinister way she raised his arm behind his back, nearly causing it to pop from its socket, clearly conveyed her message.

Don’t fuck with me, and we’ll get along fine.

A whimpered apology sprung from his lips and Buffy released his arm, slightly shifting her shoulders so that her jacket would settle around her frame. She walked off without a backward glance, ignoring the looks she received. As long as no one approached her, they could look all they wanted.

She just wanted food, possibly information, and maybe even the means to more weapons. But, she had to have the food.

Settling herself in a darkened corner, her back to the wall so that no one could sneak up behind her, she waited patiently until a barely-clad waitress made her way over to the slayer’s table. Her eyes scanned the club’s occupants as she waited, easily dismissing them all as human and not deserving of her attention.

Setting the menu down in front of her, the waitress smacked her gum while asking for her drink order. Buffy glanced up at the girl and cringed. The redheaded waitress sported enough piercing to play connect the dots across her face. Clad in clothes similar to hers, although, far more revealing, the girl shifted from hip to hip as she waited for Buffy to answer.

“Water, and bring a pitcher.”

If the waitress thought the request was unusual, she didn’t voice any complaints. The slayer was playing it smart. Without Spike at her back, she needed to be wary of any liquids she ingested – especially in this district – with all the date rape drugs that probably abounded in this area. Water was the most difficult liquid to drug because you could tell right off if someone had tampered with it. So, she’d stick with it.

As the redheaded girl walked away, Buffy glanced through the menu, not really understanding the native lingo. Her eyes honed in on the fish and chips and figured it would be a safe bet to order.

Her water suddenly appeared and Buffy quickly drained a glass before giving her order. That, too, came surprisingly quickly. The sheer volume of food unnerved her, but as the minutes ticked by, the pile shrank until nothing but crumbs remained. Apparently, her appetite was back in full force, if the empty plate were any indication. With a satisfied smack to her lips, she leaned back in the booth and once more scanned the few occupants of the bar.

Again, no one tingled her slayer senses and she left enough money on the bar to cover the tab and a sizeable tip. Rising to her feet, she exited the building and wandered down the sunny streets, taking a circuitous route back to the motel in case she may have picked up any unwanted stalkers.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy let herself into the room just as the sun started to set in the sky. Her eyes strayed immediately towards the bed where Spike’s blue eyes pinned her in place. She’d obviously woken him with her approach, a natural predator responding to a possible threat to his home. Seeing that it was only she, his taut frame relaxed back into the bed, his arms folding behind his neck as he watched her enter the room. His knowing eyes roamed her body, noting the lack of fatigue that had been a constant companion since their headlong escape from Sunnydale since…was it only just a few days ago?

With complete lack of modesty, Buffy stripped out of her clothes and climbed into bed beside Spike. Sated from a hearty lunch, she murmured a drowsy, “Wake me at midnight,” before drifting off to sleep. Much to the bemusement of Spike.

His lips curled into a smile at the slayer before he slipped from the bed to don some clothes. Once dressed, he paused at the door of their room to glance back at the slumbering girl. He ignored the hunger that made its presence known as he gazed down at her relaxed body.

The bit of crying she’d done in the shower must have helped. No longer did she appear just a shell of her former self. Small bits of the brazen, spunky slayer seemed to be shining through. And, Spike was glad to see her starting to appear more like her normal self. Turning away, he let himself out – with the forthcoming breaking and entering the two had planned for later on this evening, he’d need to top off his blood reserves to make sure that he was more than ready to deal with whatever might come their way.

As night enveloped the Soho district, Spike breathed deeply of the sin and sex that permeated the area and provided him with such ripe pickings. With a badass attitude and a swagger in his step, he blended into the crowds to hunt for dinner.

Chapter 3

A cool hand on her bare shoulder pulled her from a light sleep, for once, free from the horrible nightmares that had seemed to plague her. She knew it was him before she even rolled to her back, her body instinctively trusting that he’d keep her safe while she slept. Brushing off the last vestiges of sleep she peered up at his somber blue eyes that seemed to twinkle with the prospect of sticking it to the Council of Wankers – as the vampire was wont to call them.

“It’s time,” he whispered to her, the room still bathed in darkness.

She nodded once, sweeping the covers off of her bare body and coming to her feet in one swift movement. Rifling through her bag, she pulled out clothes that would help her blend with the dark surroundings, donning them with haste whilst the vampire paced back and forth, restless energy permeating from his lean frame.

Once she was finished and had settled her jacket around her shoulders, she glanced over towards her partner and couldn’t suppress the slight smile that graced her pale features. He paused in his pacing, sensing her regard, and turned enquiring eyes towards her, his scarred brow raising in silent query. Buffy just shook her head at the gesture, and surprised at herself as a slight chuckle burst past her lips.

Spike cocked his head to the side and watched the slayer laugh, couldn’t prevent his own answering grin from forming.

“Ready, pet?”

“Yep. Time to pay the Council a visit.”

The two slipped out of their room and into the night, taking a roundabout route to the Council’s headquarters – backtracking often – to prevent from being followed. Once assured that there was no possible way someone could be tailing them, they closed in on the building and waited.

Slayer and vampire settled in to wait until the lull in activity consumed the building. A stillness came over them as they regarded their ultimate objective – neither moving nothing more than their eyes as they constantly scanned the perimeter, their eyes and noses attuned to anything out of the ordinary.

Finally, all lay quiet and Buffy signaled to Spike that it was time. A slight nod in response, and the two rose to cross swiftly to the tall wall surrounding the building. Spike turned so that his back was to the wall, legs braced apart as he bent at the knees. He cupped his hands and at a nod to the slayer, she ran towards him, jumping at the last moment so that one of her feet landed into his joined hands, enabling him to easily vault her over the wall.

His head lifted and he watched as she sailed through the air, arms and legs outstretched like she were flying, before she tucked herself into a ball to land on the other side. He heard the soft sound she made as she landed and waited for her to announce that it was safe for him to join her.

Her whispered assent floated back towards him, and he took about ten steps away from the wall before running and easily hurtling himself over the top. Landing on his feet in a crouched position, unmoving but for his head as his amber gaze searched all around him. Ears attuned for any disturbance on the air, a sign that someone had noticed their presence. He glanced briefly at the slayer assuring himself that she was all right after her acrobatic stunt as she slipped from the shadows and came to stand beside him.

He rose to his feet by her side and by unspoken command the two raced towards the building using the numerous trees as cover. Finally gaining the side of the building, they pressed their backs up against the wall and waited. Again, his preternatural hearing didn’t detect anything out of the ordinary, and he motioned for the slayer to start making her way towards the front door.

They crept along in silence, weaving in and out of the shrubbery as they avoided the numerous windows that dotted the building. All too soon they were at the front door, and they stilled once more to see if anyone or anything seemed to notice their presence.

After about ten minutes of silence, Buffy signaled for Spike to wait and she stepped in front of the door and tried the knob. Naturally, it was locked, but the slayer spared no time employing her strength to twist the handle off into her hands, thus gaining herself entry to the building. She pushed the door open and breathed a silent sigh that the door hinges were well oiled and quiet.

She felt Spike step up behind her and took two steps over the threshold and waited. No alarms sounded and Buffy was left to wonder why the Council seemed to leave their sacred headquarters so unguarded. Motioning for the vampire to follow her, she started walking down the long, narrow hallway.

Spike took a step and slammed into the invisible barrier guarding the building. Now he knew why there were no guards. They’d employed an invite spell, something that he couldn’t get around.

“Bloody hell! Slayer,” he hissed quietly. His hand appeared to rest against the open doorway as he tried to call her back to him.

Buffy glanced over her shoulder and nearly groaned with frustration. She hurried back to him as he pushed against the barrier to show her that he was locked out.

“Shit! Now what are we supposed to do? I have no idea what I’m looking for…” she complained to the blond-headed vampire.

“Dunno, pet,” he replied as he once more tried in vain to get past the barrier.

“Damn, it’s not like I can say ‘come in, Spike’ and have… you…” her voice trailed off as said vampire sprawled out on the floor in front of her having suddenly lost his means of support. She bit her bottom lip to suppress the bubble of laughter working its way up her throat as the vision of him windmilling his arms as he lost his balance played out in front of her.

Cussing a blue streak under his breath as he swiftly gained his feet, Spike gave her a sinister look that promised all kinds of retribution once they were gone from this place. Her eyes widened innocently, teeth still firmly latched onto her bottom lip, but her eyes sparkled with unshed mirth, something the vampire noticed right off.

His eyes narrowed on her with a mock scowl and muttered a gruff, “Come on, slayer.”

Stealthily, the slayer and vampire made their way around the first floor, quickly deciding that the library must be on one of the upper levels – there were nothing but offices on the first, and unimportant ones at that.

They double backed to the staircase near the front door and silently slipped up the carpeted steps. At the top, the two split up to cover more ground, one going left while the other went in the opposite direction. Halfway down the hallway, Buffy hit the jackpot. Opening the door, she noticed all four walls were lined with shelves, groaning under the weight of the numerous books of indiscriminate age. There were even bookshelves stacked back to back forming several aisles on the far side of the room. A huge conference table sat a few feet inside the door, probably a place for research.

She leaned back out of the room and gave a low whistle, just loud enough for the vampire to hear and come towards her. Then, she slipped inside the room to gape at the mass amounts of books, dreading with a passion the coming task.

‘Giles would be right at home here.’

The thought brought a wistful smile to her features. She felt a movement behind her and looked over her shoulder to see Spike slip through the door and softly close it behind him. Buffy glanced at a small set of drawers off to the side and she walked over and opened one.

“Oh, look. They even catalogued it for us. How nice.” Her soft voice was saccharinely sweet. She heard the vampire snort as he neared.

She shut the drawer, and opened the first one, marked “A,” maybe for assassins. Opening it, she turned to Spike and told him about what Giles had said regarding the order.

“Look under ‘K’ for King Solomon. I remember that’s what he said the order dated back to. Then, we can try the ‘O’ and ‘T’ for index files and see if they have anything under Order and Taraka. And if you can think of anything else,” Buffy told him.

The two worked quickly, accumulating a small pile of books for them to go through once they finished gathering what they thought might be helpful – a prospect Buffy loathed with every fiber of her being. But, with a worthy cause, she figured she could turn into a bookworm for a few days.

When they were finally finished, a stack of nearly twenty books sat on the table. Rather than read them there, the two quickly split the pile in half and gathered the dusty tomes in their arms. As silently as they arrived, the two disappeared into the night.

Getting the books over the wall appeared to be a problem until Spike placed the books on the ground and shrugged out of his duster so that he could use it to fold the books inside. Using the sleeves, he secured the edges and lightly tossed the books over the wall. Buffy, seeing his intent, quickly followed suit, and a second thud was heard moments after the first.

Spike turned towards the slayer, clasping his hands to form a step so that he could help the slayer back over the wall. Buffy stepped towards him, bracing her hands on his shoulders momentarily before vaulting in the air and landing on the opposite site. She’d no sooner grabbed her jacket filled with books that Spike landed beside her and bended over to pick up his own duster.

Glancing around to make sure they weren’t noticed, or followed, the two disappeared into the night, again using an alternate route to gain their motel.

Upon reentering their temporary living quarters, Spike advised her that they should pack up and move to a new location – two nights in the same place was just inviting trouble and they needed someplace away from the fast-paced district they were in to do their research. Buffy agreed, and thirty minutes later they’d gathered their things and left the motel without a backward glance.

Chapter 4

Spike wandered around London for a bit, his companion silent at his side, trying to think of a safe place to go. Once the Council realized some of their precious books had been nicked, they’d seal off all exits to the city in their pursuit of the thieves – nothing overt, just an invisible presence to watch over everyone coming and going to the city. Better to be away from here and settled someplace for an easy escape.

They eventually made their way to the rail stations and the vampire paused to peruse the map of destinations, assessing and rejecting places to go. His eyes finally focused on Dover, and he mentally weighed the pros and cons of that destination before he gestured for the slayer to follow him towards the ticket booth.

“Two tickets to Dover,” Spike told the man behind the counter.

The elderly man looked up as the accented voice reached his drowsy ears, before widening momentarily at the two people standing in front of him. He nodded in response, for once grateful for the bulletproof glass separating him from the masses. Rattling off the price, he waited, and surprisingly, the blonde-headed man forked over the money without hesitation.

“The train doesn’t leave until 5:30, with boarding beginning an hour beforehand. You’ve got about thirty minutes to kill before then,” he told the man – instantly regretting the “kill” word choice as soon as it left his lips – as he passed over the two tickets. His attention was diverted by the woman at his side, who, for someone dressed as outlandishly as the former, had a soft-spoken voice that eased his trepidation.

“Is there a bathroom around here?”

“Yes, miss. Behind you, there’s a corridor, and you’ll find the facilities on your right.”

“Thank you,” she replied before turning to her companion. They seemed to communicate silently before he nodded and watched her walk away.

“Thanks, mate,” Spike told the elderly man as he placed the tickets in an inside pocket of his duster, grabbed his bags, and moved to follow his companion.

The man behind the counter released his pent up breath, and for some strange reason, felt that he’d somehow managed to escape death.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy made quick work of the facilities, afterwards standing before the mirror secured over the faucet while she washed her face and hands. The tinglies she felt along her back told her that Spike had stopped outside the door and taken up a sentry position. It was almost comforting, those tinglies she got when he was nearby. Like a constant security blanket she’d come to associate with his presence. It was when she didn’t feel them that she seemed on edge, was unable to relax her guard that had her body strung tight as if moments from snapping.

Snagging a paper towel from the dispenser, she wiped off her damp face and stared at the image in front of her. Physical exhaustion shone in her eyes, but the deep emotional pain that she’d been experiencing appeared to be lifting. No longer were her eyes quite so haunted. But the vengeance was still there…along with a small bit of excitement.

Figuring she’d stalled enough, she chucked the used paper towel in the trashcan and let herself out of the bathroom.

Spike was leaning up against the wall, one foot lifted as a brace against the structure. A lit cigarette dangled from between his lips in complete defiance of the posted ‘no smoking’ sign. A habit that was bad to the core, yet somehow, he just made it seem remarkably sexy.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here before we get kicked out.”

A smirk and a cocked brow was his only response to her snarky comment, but he didn't argue as he pushed himself away from the wall and grabbed the remaining bag from its place on the floor, following behind her as she practically marched out the door to wait until they were able to board their train.

Spike watched her huff off, taken aback by her sudden feistiness. Before she’d gone into the bathroom, she’d been near exhaustion once again, as neither of them had settled into a normal sleeping pattern, just taking snatches here and there. But, she’d come out of the bathroom, taken one look at him, and he watched as her weariness seemed to evaporate without a trace. Then he smelt it…just a faint trace of her arousal wafting over his senses.

‘Methinks the lady doth protest too much.’

~*~*~*~*~

They were the only ones waiting when they were finally granted permission to board, thus allowing them to pick their seat. Deciding on a back corner location – away from the majority of windows and right near an exit door in case they needed to make a fast getaway – Buffy slid into the seat nearest the window and pulled down her shade and the one a row ahead, placing her bag on the floor space in front of her. Spike slid in next to her after a quick reconnaissance of the cabin.

He turned to glance at the slayer, noting once again, the borderline exhaustion emanating from her frame now that she had something semi-comfortable to lean back into.

“C’mere, kitten,” he urged, putting his arm around her shoulder and easing her to lay with her head in his lap. He was surprised when she didn’t protest, just placed her head onto his lap and closed her eyes.

Spike watched her while she slept, occasionally running his fingers through her hair. As people began to filter on the train, he eyed them carefully. He didn’t think that the Order had been able to find them yet, but with the theft of the Council’s books, he wouldn’t put it past them to have employed the same methods the watchers were using. So, right now, until they’d safely left London behind, they were in danger. The hour crept by and the cabin started to fill, most of the passengers spreading out to take advantage of the near-empty train to sleep for the hour and a half ride it would take them to reach their destination. Spike was happy to feel the wheels start to move, taking them away from the Council, away from the danger he'd felt as they'd wandered about London.

~*~*~*~*~

Thunderstorms greeted their arrival into Dover, having overtaken the train just outside London, something of which had the vampire deeply grateful. He’d not been sure how they were going to manage arriving at the coastline city. But, it was the one advantage the two of them held over the people seeking them out – Spike wasn’t afraid to move around during the day.

He glanced down at the slumbering slayer, gently shaking her awake once the train came to a stop. His eyes never left the passengers as they grabbed their things and departed. Spike felt the slayer stretch beside him as she took in their new surroundings.

“What time is it?” she questioned sleepily.

“’Prolly gone about 7a.m.” he responded. “Come on. Let’s get outta here and find us a place to hole up for the day.”

Spike reached down and easily palmed the bag weighted down with the majority of books they’d nicked from the Council, standing with a fluid grace as he exited their row. Buffy grabbed her own bag and moved to follow him, ignoring the sore muscles in her legs as she walked behind him and out into the downpour.

They hurried towards the first hotel they came across, racing inside to keep the flammable vampire from turning to dust on the off chance the cloud cover disappeared. The hotel clerk looked up, but figured they were just escaping the deluge that had swept over the city earlier.

“We need a room, please,” Spike told the woman behind the counter, running his hand through his hair to bring some semblance of order to the now-curly locks. They ignored his attempts and bounced back into place, causing him to groan.

“Yes sir, just a moment,” she replied, ignoring the man’s vexed look. Personally, she thought he should leave the curls alone, it gave him a softer, sexier appeal. She took his passport and entered his information into the computer then handed him a key as she gave him directions to his room.

Vampire and slayer walked off, grateful to be that much closer to a bed and some much-needed sleep. On the ride up the elevator, they came to the conclusion that no research was going to be accomplished until they’d both slept for several hours. And, it was with a weary sigh the two slipped out of their clothes – after securing the curtains over the window – and climbed beneath the sheets, instinctively reaching for the other before drifting off into sleep.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike nuzzled the slayer’s neck as he woke, his arms locked securely around her middle. Slightly ravenous because he’d not fed since before they’d nicked the books from the Council – partly because he’d not wanted to wander off, and leave the slayer, to do it – he couldn’t prevent his face from shifting as he felt the strong beat of her artery as his tongue traced along the structure.

He needed a little something to take the edge off, at least until he could escape into the night for a proper feeding. And, she’d already accepted his bite before.

One cool hand slipped down along her bare thigh, curling under her leg and pulling it back to drape over his thigh, exposing her, more fully, to his questing hand. Once satisfied she wasn’t going to move her leg from the position he’d placed it, Spike inched his hand away from her leg and towards the coarse curls covering her mound, gliding one finger back and forth along her slit and coating his digit with her body’s unconscious response. She stirred in her sleep but did not waken to his ministrations, even as she arched into his touch.

As his finger slipped between her folds, Buffy bucked into his hand, Spike’s name, a whispered sigh escaping her lips. His finger delved into her hot center over and over, quickly adding a second and a third as her body’s increased secretions eased his entry. Her hips began to buck in response and he found that he couldn’t wait any longer.

Replacing his fingers with his cock, he slid home, burying himself within her velvet heat, gripping her hip with his hand to keep her from moving. He growled low in his throat, the feel of her liquid fire encasing his shaft enough to send him over the edge with barely a handful of thrusts. His fangs nuzzled her neck as he tried to rein in his body’s response at being buried to the hilt within the slick pussy.

When he felt he could actually move without spilling his seed prematurely, Spike started a slow, gentle thrusting of his hips. He took his time, wanting the in and out motion of his length within her body as a distraction for when he finally slid his fangs in her neck. Done properly, she’d barely feel the biting sting of his second penetration. And, if she was as responsive as he thought she was going to be, she’d actually enjoy it and be brought to an earth-shattering orgasm.

He could feel the slayer rousing from her slumber as the sensations at her core became too great for her to sleep through. His hearing picked up her increased heart rate, the breathy moans as he repeatedly slid in and out of her slick channel. He felt the tension radiate outward along her legs, indicating her pending climax. Spike felt his balls tighten as he neared his own release, and knew it was time.

He could control himself. Take just enough of her blood to tide him over and let the slayer slip back into slumber.

“Come for me, pet,” he whispered in her ear before, with agonizing slowness, he pierced her flesh with his canines, and began swallowing her delicious slayer’s blood.

Buffy cried out his name, her inner walls clamping down on his cock as her body responded to the dual penetration – her head arched back, driving his fangs even deeper. She heard him groan into her neck, felt his other arm that had been tucked under her upper back bend, enabling him to grip the underside of her jaw, holding her in place as he went even deeper, pleasure giving way to pain.

She didn’t care. It felt so damn good, his near-violent possession, and she gasped, caught completely unaware by the second orgasm rushing through her body – the force of it taking her breath and leaving her in a quivering mass of aftershocks.

The slayer’s second orgasm was Spike’s undoing. He’d barely hung on the first time as her vaginal walls alternately clutched and released his shaft when she climaxed. There was no way he’d be able to hold out through the second one, especially with her blood sliding down his throat.

He tore his mouth from her neck as he shouted his release, his cock flooding her with his seed, and he continued to pump inside her core until he was spent. Finally, he stilled, draping himself around her warm, slick body and lovingly licked the deep marks he’d made on her neck closed.

Spike wasn’t surprised at the rumbling that seemed to bubble up from his chest. Although no words had been spoken, his demon had asserted its claim on the slayer and now seemed to practically purr in contentment. He felt her snuggle closer as she drifted off to sleep, the bloodletting and sexual satisfaction going a long way towards lulling her body back into slumber. His arms tightened about her for a moment before he reluctantly pulled back and slipped from the bed.

They weren’t getting any closer to the Order by sleeping the day away. He’d take a quick shower and start going through the Council of Wanker’s books to see if they had any information that would help them track the origins of the Order of Taraka, and possibly reveal their – for want of a better word – headquarters.

Chapter 5:

She knew she was alone in the room the moment she opened her eyes, her body instantly awake and alert for any noise out of the ordinary. The lack of light around the edges of the curtained windows told her that it was late, her body surprisingly refreshed after having slept the day away.

A glance around the room showed her that Spike had already gotten started on the research, several books open and spread out on top of the small table. He’d no doubt gotten hungry at some point and slipped out into the night to feed. Not her problem. Out of sight, out of mind. She wasn’t going to worry about the actions of one vampire, or really any, for that matter. Her soul purpose for being, the cause that kept her moving, was revenge.

An eye for an eye.

Only, she wanted the whole body. The entire Order would pay for daring to take something from the slayer.

Buffy threw the covers off of her and slipped from the bed; her eyes noted the time – a little past midnight – and figured that was why her stomach was rumbling. She’d slept for almost sixteen hours straight. Walking over to the table, she peered down at the contents of one of the books before turning her nose up. There was no way she was going to be able to function without a shower and some food. She turned to grab a fresh set of clothes and noticed a bag on top of the dresser; beside it was a note in, what she guessed, was Spike’s handwriting.

Slayer –

Drink the juice. All of it. There are some snacks for you to munch on until I get back with your dinner. It’s about ten now, shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours.

Spike

She fingered the bag and looked inside. Her hand closed over the sixty-four-ounce bottle of orange juice, pulling it from the bag in astonishment. He wanted her to drink the whole thing? Then she remembered. He’d bitten her. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, her hand automatically going to her dark hair and pulling it out of the way. Two neat puncture wounds marred the left side of her neck.

Buffy released her hair, allowing the raven-colored tresses to settle around her shoulders and hide the fresh marks. Rather than analyze what she may or may not feel about Spike biting her, she popped the top on the plastic container and took a healthy swig of the juice. The lukewarm fluid was surprisingly refreshing and she almost finished off the container before she realized it. Capping the lid, she saved the rest for when she had a candy bar after her shower.

~*~*~*~*~

When Spike let himself into the room, the slayer was sitting at the table, her feet curled beneath her as she buried her nose in a book. His eyes unconsciously roamed over her frame, looking for any minute sign of ill effects of him feeding from her earlier. He chalked his concern up to his demon’s possessiveness, refusing to dwell upon his growing feelings for the slip of a girl in his company. And, he was pleased to note that the jug of juice he’d purchased for her sat empty on the table, next to a discarded candy wrapper.

“Is that my dinner I smell?” the slayer asked him, eyes never leaving the page she was reading.

“Yep. Wasn’t sure how long you were gonna sleep, and I didn’t want to wake ya.”

“Awww, Spike. I didn’t know you cared.” Secretly she smiled. Who knew the Big Bad had a soft spot?

“I don’t. Don’t kid yourself…just lookin’ out for me own in’trests. Wouldn’t do to have the one person guardin’ my back not in top form because of some stomach rumblies,” he snarked.

“So, bring me my food before my stomach rumblies get the best of me. I’m hungry.”

“Well…if someone hadn’t slept all bloody day.”

“Oh, you’re just mad because you had to read without me.” Where the sassiness came from, she had no idea. And, it shocked her to realize that she was comfortable around him.

“Damn right, I am. Bet you just opened that book jus’ now because you knew I was comin’,” Spike growled. He plopped down in the chair beside her, placing the fish and chips he’d obtained from the late night diner on the table in front of her.

When she continued to read her book, ignoring him and the food he’d gotten for her, he stormed to his feet to take a shower, determined to tune her out, much like she was doing to him. Her hand shot out, closing around his wrist before he could move, and he glanced over his shoulder, brow arched in question.

“What’s in the bag?” she asked softly.

“Fish ‘n chips. Figured it was a safe bet.” Spike turned around and stared down at the slayer.

“Thanks…for bringing me something…” Her voice slowly died off, her eyes unable to break away from his intense gaze. The air between them suddenly seemed charged with electricity as they moved towards one another. Both stopped just a hairsbreadth apart. There was something about this moment that was different than before. As if they came together now, there’d be no going back. Neither moved for a space of a moment. And then another.

Finally, she whispered his name.

Spike.

Nothing more.

It could have been a question, or a plea. Something to break the indecision that was holding them both frozen in place. Unable to commit.

Spike was the first to draw back, tucking a few loose strands of dark hair behind her ear then stepping back.

“Eat your dinner before it gets cold, slayer. I’m gonna take a shower then we’ll hit the books…See if we can suss out where this Order is hiding.”

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy watched beneath lowered lids as Spike came out of the shower clad in only a towel that hung indecently low on his hips. She’d never really paid attention to the sculpted lines of his body before. All the times they’d been together, he’d just been a willing body to comfort her, hold her…and she was sure he felt the same. They were enemies that had formed a truce in a mutual desire to see the Order brought down.

Now things were different, well, they felt that way now, and she wasn’t quite sure if she liked it. Since Angel’s dusting, her heart had been encased in ice, allowing no emotion to seep through. Except revenge. Revenge was what kept her going when at times all she wanted to do was give up.

Her eyes returned to the print on the page, rereading the same line several times as Spike slipped into a pair of jeans. The sound of the zipper rang in her ears, and she forced herself to concentrate on the book in her lap.

“Anything?” he asked as he sat in his chair and grabbed one of the books he’d been looking through earlier.

“Nothing concrete. Just vague references so far. You?” she asked, referring to the study session he had while she slept.

“The same…although, this book…” He held up a book on cults. “…seemed promising. My eyes were starting to cross from all the reading, so I took a break to grab something to eat and come back to it with a fresh set of eyes.”

“Yeah…I never did understand how Giles and the others could research late into the night. My eyes are already starting to glaze over and I’ve only been reading for an hour.”

“Bet you were the first one to make your excuses.”

“Hey! Slayer here. My job was to beat the bad guys, not write a paper on them.”

“Uh huh.”

She stuck her tongue out at him before returning to her book, missing the smile that transformed his features, giving his human visage an almost boyish appeal. They settled into companionable silence as they read, occasionally getting the other’s attention with brief passages that might be of importance, marking them for further exploration later.

“Hey, Spike! Look at this! It looks like someone drew a floor plan of the Solomon Temple. The picture is kinda grainy, but it may come in handy.”

Spike half-rose out of his chair to look over her shoulder at the leather-bound journal she was reading. Apparently a watcher, disguised as one of the faithful, maybe, had either broken into their inner sanctum and created a map, or he’d overheard bits and pieces and attempted to piece together its layout. Surprisingly, it looked somewhat like an actual man in design, right down to its fingers.

“Good work, luv. We’ll save it. Not sure how reliable it’ll be, but it gives us an idea. Does the book say anything else, give a location?”

“Nothing yet, but I’ll keep reading.”

A few hours later and Buffy was no closer to finding a reference point to the mysterious temple. Slamming the book shut with disgust, she flung it on the table and leaned back in her chair. She rolled her shoulders, attempting to relieve the ache that had settled there as she bent over the ancient journal in her lap.

She glanced at the window and noticed a lightening around the edges signifying the coming dawn, then glanced at the clock on the dresser and closed her eyes as she groaned aloud at the neon numbers glared back at her. 6:00 a.m. Even with the sixteen plus hours of sleep, after staring at books for the last six hours straight, she was ready for another nap.

Buffy didn’t protest when Spike’s hand closed around her wrist and hauled her to her feet, tugging her after him towards the bed. She didn’t have time to feel awkward as he quickly divested her of her clothes and nudged her into bed, slipping out of his jeans and sliding in behind her. When his arms slipped around her, she automatically relaxed back against him, feeling oddly protected in his cool embrace.

“Sleep, luv,” he murmured in her ear.

She did, drifting off to the gentle vibration of his chest.