Chapter 12

Instead of going right and heading back towards her motel room, Buffy turned left, heading in the direction of the nicer parts of Sunnydale.  Since the slayer knew that she was going to catch flack from the vampire – who was no doubt pacing back and forth within the small confines of their rented room – she may as well make the most of her time.  

He’d said there were seven, which meant that she and Spike had missed one.  A mistake that could have proven fatal.  And she chalked the discovery into the column of why-I-needed-to-meet-the-bus-from-Vegas-even-if-you-couldn’t-go-with-me as a ready excuse for why she’d gone out without him.  Even he would have to see the logic in that. 

Oh, who was she kidding…Spike dealt in one hundred percent emotion.  He flew by the seat of his pants, even if nine times out of ten it ended up biting him in the ass.  Only in this joint quest had he played the levelheaded vampire, thinking before reacting. 

The slayer ignored that inner-voice that told her she would do well to emulate the vampire. 

No, she needed to identify all the players at once.  Then as darkness fell, the two would split up and make short work of the remaining Order’s assassins that had stuck around Sunnydale. 

The death of the assassin that had chosen to oversee the bus station should alert the other members that she was back in town…thus, hopefully sparing the lives of her friends and family.  She’d honored her pact with the man on the telephone.  Right down to where she claimed that her face would be the last they’d see.  

True, so blatant a kill had now altered their plans of taking them off one by one in rather quick succession, but honestly…  

A sudden thought struck her and she halted in her tracks.  Her mind worked through several locations until she realized that she was going to need the vampire’s input as well.  Abandoning her earlier (irrational) plan of maybe taking out a few more before nightfall, she turned around and hurried back to the motel room she shared with Spike. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

She barely had the key card in the slot when the door was suddenly yanked open and the slayer found herself hauled inside the room and pinned against the wall. 

‘Yep!  Pissed off,’ was the thought that flashed through her mind before she opened her mouth to tell him why she’d gone off alone.  His face mere inches from her own as he glared down at her. 

“Spike, I can expl—” 

‘Or not.’   

The explanation died on her lips as he ravaged her open mouth.  Thought flew right out the window as she wrapped her arms around his neck and surrendered herself to him. 

~*~ 

Spike could smell the blood on her, his demon reveling in her obvious kill, even as it raged for her leaving without telling him.  It had been an unspoken agreement between the two that while they were in Sunnydale, neither went anywhere without the other.  But, she’d completely disregarded their plan and gone out alone.  And, he wanted to beat her for blatantly putting herself at risk like that.  For making him pace the tiny walkway allotted by the furniture arrangement while he waited for her return – the worry he’d felt at her prolonged absence just increasing his ire. 

When he’d felt her draw near, he was all set to punish her, to spank her delectable ass until she couldn’t sit down for at least a week.  Instead he was kissing the breath out of her as he invaded her personal space.  Grinding into her as he held her immobile against the wall.  That she wasn’t protesting in the least his rough treatment of her just goaded him to further actions. 

He released her long enough to shred her pants, the material no match for his claws or his impatience.  The tiny scrap of lace provided even less resistance.  A snap and a hiss of a zipper, and then he was buried inside, his entry rough, but not terribly so due to the moisture pooling at her opening – her legs lifting to wrap around his hips as he took her against the wall. 

In and out, over and over, the pumping of his hips grinding her back up and down against the wall.  Until even that wasn’t enough, and he turned to lay her back against the dresser.  Clothes, weapons…they all went flying as the slayer sought purchase against something stable with her hands.  Finding nothing useful, she gripped his upper arms and he braced himself against the dresser’s surface.  Their grunts and groans as his cock slid in and out of her pussy mingled with the increased slapping of flesh on flesh. 

Neither minded the raw passion of their coupling.  The act alleviating the worry of one, while being a natural conclusion to the adrenaline rush of the kill for the other. 

Spike pulled out of her suddenly and flipped her onto her stomach.  

The slayer groaned at the loss, but a moment later she felt his hard length slide back into her quim to continue the bruising pace of before.  She arched beneath him, thrilling at the new angle of penetration this position afforded her.  

The single digit rimming her ass caused her to tense momentarily, but was soon forgotten in the onslaught of his shaft stretching her to near bursting.  His finger teased her endlessly, the tip just barely easing past the tight sphincter.  Slowly driving her crazy, until she was pushing back against him, forcing him deeper inside.  The second finger stretched her a little more and it wasn’t long before she was seeking even more…to which he instinctively complied, adding a third. 

His hips had slowed in their movements, allowing her body to adjust to the dual invasion, until her body felt like it was going to crack under the strain if he didn’t start moving faster.  Harder.  Deeper. 

Then his fingers were removed to be replaced by the head of his cock…and he slowly began to fill her, taking his time so as not to hurt her.  

She relaxed beneath him, trusting that all his preparation was going to be worth it.  And…oh god…he was filling her in a whole new way.  She may have called out his name.  She wasn’t sure.  Her body poised on the edge of orgasm. 

He started off slow, inch by agonizing inch as her body got used to this new way of making love.  It wasn’t long before she was writhing beneath him.  Craving more.  Begging him to fuck her harder.  He didn’t listen to her, naturally.  The perverse vampire.  He just kept to his steady rhythm – quite surprising given his out of control passion just moments before.  She bit her lip as three fingers suddenly filled her slick pussy, his thumb drawing lazy patterns on her clit.  Torturing her.  Making her feel more than she ever thought possible. 

His fingers and cock struck up a complementary cadence, leaving her body always filled by him…  

Spike thought he was burning alive.  His fingers, buried in her moist heat, his cock sheathed so tight in her ass – the pleasure so great, the iron control he had over his demon was slipping.  If she didn’t come soon— 

The slayer bellowed her release, not caring who heard her, her inner muscles squeezing his cock and fingers in quick succession.  It seemed all the encouragement the vampire needed as he began fucking her ass in earnest, his fingers playing counterpoint to his cock.  Allowing her no time to recover, just stringing her body tight as the pressure began to build once more.  

He was talking dirty now.  Crude explicit words that turned her on.  And, if she wasn’t so swept away with how he was making her feel, she might have answered him with a few choice words of her own.  She, however, was reduced to babbling, and pleading. 

“You wanna come again, slayer?” he asked between gritted teeth as he tried to stave off his orgasm. 

Beneath him, she nodded helplessly. 

With his free hand, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and hauled her up off the dresser, leaving his hand in place for a moment until he was sure she wouldn’t move – only then did he return it back to her hip.  His tongue licked a trail along her neck to tease his recent claim marks.  Her eyes widened as that spot seemed to be linked directly with her sex, and Buffy felt him groan into the sweat-slickened flesh of her throat as her body unconsciously squeezed him. 

“More?” he murmured huskily at her neck, to which she just nodded again.  

And again he teased the marks, this time with blunt teeth.  The next time it was fangs, scraping softly along her flesh.  All the while, he never let up on his punishing pace.  Each time he teased his marks, he seemed to know the moment the slightest bit more would send her over the edge…and he’d draw back.  Leaving her whimpering and poised on the edge. 

Her frustration continued to mount and she began to wonder how he’d managed to not come yet himself. 

Then he was biting her.  Deep like before.  Her body seemed to splinter into a thousand pieces, lights dancing before her eyes as wave after wave of untold ecstasy slammed through her body, the only sound coming out of her mouth a choked gasp.  Her brain unable to function. 

Nearly weak in the aftermath, she practically collapsed face first onto the dresser; Spike’s fangs were still buried in her neck so he ended up draping himself over her back.  Suddenly, he tore his mouth away, rearing up to pump furiously at her ass, on the brink of orgasm.  His grip where he held one side of her tightened almost painfully, his thrust almost spasmodic, then he was flooding her passage while he roared his release. 

After the last tremor passed through his body, Spike managed to slowly ease from her abused ass before collapsing against the wall as he struggled to remain standing.  The slayer, for her part, was still unmoving on the dresser, her body heaving as her heart rate took its own sweet time slowing down – not caring in the least the picture she made with her jeans in tatters around her ankles, bare to the waist and slumped over the dresser.  The vampire wasn’t fairing much better; though he didn’t need to breathe, he was mimicking her actions, panting as he struggled to recover. 

After a minute or two, he shimmied out of his jeans, pulled the slayer off of the dresser and placed her on the bed.  The shirt and bra came off, then he knelt at her feet and quickly removed her boots and socks.  He settled them on the bed, his arms automatically wrapping around her and drawing her back against his chest. 

“Wanna tell me what you were doin’ out alone, pet?” Spike asked after a bit. 

He patted himself on the back for voicing the question without any of the anger he’d carried before. 

“Went to the bus station—” 

“Rather gathered that much.  What ‘m wantin’ to know is why you thought you should go without me.” 

“Well, there was the small matter of it being daylight.  Oh…and wait…you being shot!” 

“Don’t think ya wanna go there, pet.  Or, we could discuss the fact that you didn’ seem to have your tanks topped off either…li’l matter of bein’ slayer on tap.” 

“I rested…and beside, you didn’t take that much anyway.” 

“Didn’ take that much!  Bloody hell, slayer!  When I woke to the taste of your blood, I couldn’ even think for the bloodlust.  Just a taste of you is enough to make me lose control…an’ me not completely awake?  Any other vamp an’ you woulda’ been dead!” 

“Wouldn’t’a done it for any other vamp,” she mumbled.  

But he heard. 

And his eyes closed in wonderment as he tightened his hold about her. 

The gift of her blood… 

It left him speechless for once. 

Before it had been something that was his due.  His prize upon defeat of the slayer. 

Now…to have it freely given to him. 

It just made it more precious. 

He didn’t say anything for a few minutes, and the two lay there entwined.  The only sound in the room, the faint echoes as other guests were heard either exiting or entering their room. 

When he felt he could speak past the lump that seemed to have lodged in his throat, Spike asked her about the bus station. 

“There was one…waiting for me.  I got him to talk before I slit his throat.”  She said it so calmly, as if his death were nothing.  And, it was true.  Although he’d been human, he’d been lumped into the category of “Order,” thus sealing his death warrant. 

Spike waited, letting her speak. 

“We missed one.  There’s seven…well, six now.  I was all set to make the most of the daylight and take out a few more, but then I thought of something.” 

“Wha’s that, luv?” 

“Even if I did…say…get a couple of them.  The Order’d know.  And punish them.  My mom.  Giles.  My friends.  I’m good, and I’m fast.  But not that fast.” 

“Which was why we were supposed to wait until tonight.” 

“Yeah, but how would the Order know that I’m here?  And, who’s to say when they’d start—” 

“We won’t let them hurt your family, slayer,” Spike interrupted. 

“I know…and I know how we’re gonna do it.” 

~*~*~*~*~ 

As soon as it was possible the pair slipped out of their motel room.  Clad head to toe in black, they easily blended with the shadows.  Their destination was a pay phone, still in the seedier side of Sunnydale, but far enough away from their motel so as not to draw notice. 

Spike stood by her side as she placed the call, and she drew upon his silent, unwavering support like she once did with her friends.  She felt the stillness wash over him as the connection was made and the line began to ring. 

“Hello!” Giles answered on the second ring. 

“Giles?” 

“Buffy!  Buffy, is that you?” 

But like before, she didn’t answer.  Was already conversing with the one that had drawn her to Sunnydale.

Chapter 13

From her kneeling position beside the dead Order assassin, her eyes remained glued on the vampire that was toying with his “food.”  Clearly the human male was no match for Spike, no matter how hard the assassin might have trained. 

She didn’t interrupt his play, hands pressed tightly against the jagged slash across her middle, courtesy of this small band of assassin’s leader, now dead like she promised him.  The slayer ignored the pain of it and the various nicks marring her arms and legs, as she waited patiently for the vampire to finish off the last of Order’s Sunnydale cell.  Besides with the cracked ribs and the fact that there was no part of her body that didn’t ache to some small degree, it wasn’t like she could rise on her own, or draw a deep enough breath to bellow at Spike to hurry it along already. 

His taunts to his opponent were drifting back to her, his voice growing more and more faint as blood leaked slowly between her fingers.  It was starting to get to her, the blood loss – making her steadily weaker by the minute.  The room was beginning to spin; images were getting blurry. 

Then faded to black… 

~*~ 

Spike had seen the slayer’s last adversary fall beneath her blade, the scent of blood heightening his bloodlust, making him draw out this last kill.  His mind concentrated solely on the human before him, the desire to prolong his sport so that his demon could revel in the fear permeating from every pore of the man’s body – so much so – that he didn’t detect the faint signature of her blood. 

When he calmed from his latest torture round, his senses picked up what had been unconsciously goading his demon to be exceptionally brutal in his attack. 

With the human pinned against the wall, held there by his chokehold around the assassin’s throat, his head whipped around to see the slayer collapsed upon the floor, her blood staining the palms that had tried to stem the flow. 

Rage consumed him.  The inhuman roar he let out, testament to his anger and pain. 

The vampire’s eyes were back on the man dangling against the wall in a flash.  His amber gaze holding nothing but death. 

It was mercifully quick.  A lot more than the assassin deserved, or what Spike wanted to grant him.  But, he didn’t matter.  Only the slayer did. 

Fangs unerringly found the artery beating erratically in the man’s neck.  Seconds later, the vampire was finished, dropping the corpse where it may fall to race to Buffy’s side. 

Her heartbeat was slow, but it was still there.  She needed blood, and fast… 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Several hours earlier… 

“They took the bait,” she announced to the vampire at her side.  Probably a useless piece of information given that he’d probably heard every word of the exchange.  He nodded anyway, out of habit. 

They’d chosen an abandoned building out in the middle of nowhere for their final confrontation, gambling on the fact that the Order’s assassins would view her proposal as the odd-stacking event is was meant to be – only it would be in her favor, not theirs.  She was to meet them alone, weapons didn’t matter, or all bets were off regarding her loved ones.  Buffy had agreed, only with the insistence that she was going to confirm that there was no one left behind spying on her family or friends. 

The assassin said he was pulling them back now, giving his “men” a chance to go over their battleground before she arrived. 

“Two hours.  Come alone.” 

He’d hung up then, leaving her listening to the dial tone for a moment before replacing the handset in the cradle.   

By all outward appearances, she’d be alone.  But, the deserted office building had been chosen for a reason.  Situated in the middle of nowhere, it had a sewer tunnel that led directly to it, allowing the vampire to make his way there unseen.  Then, between the two of them, they could take out the six remaining members before returning to their quest for the source – the stronghold of the Order of Taraka. 

The two parted ways not long after… Spike to make his way to the abandoned building undetected, the slayer to confirm the Order’s withdrawal. 

She cared not in the least that she’d outright lied to the assassin.  There was no honor left among them after having threatened all those she held dear, and she couldn’t find it in herself to exhibit even a small amount of fair play. 

Nope.  They’d made a mistaking in going after anyone but their intended target, and she would see them all dead.  

By any means necessary. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Her first stop was her mom’s, and she just barely managed to hide from Giles as he stormed up to her front door – no doubt to inform Joyce that he’d heard from her.  Although, with the single-mindedness of his intent, it was doubtful he would have noticed her even if she were standing right before him.  Buffy didn’t hang around to hear their conversation.  Instead, she finished up her reconnaissance of the others’ homes and the high school before she began making her way towards the abandoned building. 

~*~ 

She knew the moment the assassin began trailing her.  Like a defense mechanism created out of necessity, she’d evolved her slayer abilities so that she could detect anyone that seemed to come within a certain range, human or demon.  If nothing else, she could thank the Order for allowing her to realize her true potential.  Buffy dismissed him out of hand; he was probably the lowest man on the totem pole, thus beneath her notice.  And, he wasn’t doing anything more than making sure she arrived alone. 

~*~ 

The slayer threw open the door and strode boldly inside.  Her gaze swept around the room in an instant, placing the five remaining assassins, marking the leader by his stance and attitude.  He was the only one that didn’t twitch slightly at her presence. 

‘That’ll soon change. Soon you’ll be begging for your life.’ 

“Ahhhh… slayer.  So good of you to join us! Like the new look, by the way,” the man greeted as he pushed himself away from the wall he’d been lounging against.  His deceptively lazy movements didn’t fool her in the least.  Almost as tall as Angel, but built more like Spike, he was a man that was very comfortable in his skin, the tightly coiled muscles just waiting to strike. 

“Cut the crap,” she ground out as she crossed the barren warehouse until she was almost nose-to-nose with him, the tails of her leather duster flying out behind her at her ground-eating pace.  “I want your word that after today no one, and I mean no one, goes after my family or friends again.” 

In the blink of an eye, she had her knife out of her boot and had drawn its sharp surface across the palm of her hand.  The red line of blood appeared almost instantaneously, and Buffy thrust it out to the lead assassin to mark her blood oath. 

He smirked at her, revealing a row of uneven yellowing teeth.  She didn’t move, just waited – all night if need be – for him to agree to her demand.  Buffy refused to speak again.  She wanted to make like she was putting on a brave front, like she was expecting to die and was just trying to settle her affairs.  Truth was, no one would be coming after her family again because none of the assassins here in Sunnydale were escaping with their lives. 

With painstaking movements, the male assassin went through the show of cutting his palm and gripping her outstretched hand.  He made as if to crush it, his human appearance no doubt belying the fact that he was part, if not all, some type of demon.  Buffy just smiled at him. 

When he backhanded her, the force of which separated their joined hands and caused her to fall back a few paces, her grin got even bigger. 

He didn’t like it, the defiance she showed in the wake of the overwhelming odds against her. It was like she was privy to something, some secret that he was being made to wait for.  It pissed him off, and with an arrogant nod of his head, he indicated the other members of his group to attack. 

Buffy was ready for them.  The pack was closing in on her, armed with various weapons – no guns – that they were smacking menacingly against the palm of their other hand as they neared.  From her crouched position, she drew the dagger from its hiding place at the small of her back and covered by her duster. 

It flew through the air, the barely audible whoosh not heard by its intended victim until it was too late, the hilt protruding from the female’s throat marking its trajectory. The woman stopped in her tracks, frantically clutching at the dagger’s handle, before falling to her knees and toppling sideways – dead before her head hit the ground. 

They stopped en masse and stared at their fallen comrade.  Not willing to believe that the slayer – who all research had indicated couldn’t (or wouldn’t) take a human life – just calmly as you please did that very thing. 

In that moment, as they turned from the downed woman to the girl slowly gaining her feet, taking note of the unholy gleam in her eyes, the assassins realized that they may have underestimated the slayer. 

As her eyes shifted towards the door at the far corner, they were helpless to do the same.  To see what could have pulled her attention away from them… 

He moved as if in slow motion, his entrance dramatic and fear invoking.  The vampire was garbed head to toe in black, the trademark duster speaking his identity even with the lack of platinum-blond hair.  His sudden presence caused the head assassin to draw back in surprise, as if the thought that slayer and vampire would team up had never occurred to him. 

“Welcome to the party, honey!” Buffy called out, gesturing to the remaining assassins.  “Dinner, as they say, is served.” 

Spike smirked at her, the bones of his face shifting as his demon prepared to do battle. 

The place erupted into activity, the assassins – demon and human alike – squared off against the slayer and vampire, the majority of which figured the slayer the lesser of two evils and ganged up on her.  Weapons, fists, and kicks came at her from all directions and Buffy was hard pressed to hold the three off long enough to retrieve her dagger from the throat of the fallen female assassin.  A wicked right cross to the mouth sent her reeling in that direction, and if the punch, and subsequent gash across her leg, hadn’t hurt so bad, she might have been tempted to thank the person that did it. 

Shaking off the pain, she snagged her weapon and resumed her position.  Buffy took several blows to her body, her cropped sword no match for the longer “true” swords of two of her opponents.  She didn’t let it get to her, though; she was determined to come out the winner in this battle. 

A sudden scream rang out, and the slayer figured Spike had killed one of his two opponents, and she mentally breathed a sigh of relief when one of her own attackers left to do battle with his comrade against the vampire.  

That just left her with the assassin that had trailed her into the building and the ringleader.  

Her mind shifted until the majority of it was engaged fighting off the demon; the human was easy pickings and was more in the way of the two combatants than an actual help for his cohort.  The leader, with his long reach and even longer sword was slowly hacking away at her energy level that had been liberally laced with adrenaline. 

She felt the human try to sneak up behind her, and Buffy sacrificed her weapon to take him out of the equation, throwing her dagger much like she had against the female earlier.  Her aim was true and he went down without a fight.  But, she took a swipe of the demon’s blade across her midsection as payment.  

The slayer was sent to the ground from the force of the blow, and she used the momentum to take her towards the human…and her weapon.  Pulling it from his chest without moments to spare as the demon was attempting to deliver his deathblow.  Summoning every ounce of slayer strength she possessed, she managed to raise her dagger and deflect the strike.  He wasn’t prepared for the move, and it threw him momentarily off balance.  Just enough for her to let loose with her dagger once more. 

Eyes wide in shock, he first stared at her in confusion, then at the hilt that was the only visible protrusion from where it was buried deep in his chest, crumpling to the floor when his legs gave out.  As she crawled over to where the demon lay dying, if not dead, another scream rent the air.  This left just one assassin remaining, and she watched as Spike spared her a glance to see how she was doing.  She nodded at him, indicating that she was fine; he smile back then began to play with his opponent…drawing out this final kill. 

“Told you mine would be the last face you see before you died,” she gasped out around her pain, arms crossed over her middle to try and stem the flow of blood spilling from the huge gash across her stomach. 

“C-can’t s-stop….Taraka…k-k-keep c-coming…” the ringleader choked out around the blood pooling in his mouth. 

“Not if you cut off its head,” she ground out.  And using the last of her strength, she wretched the dagger from his chest and slit his throat.  

Blood splattered everywhere, but she didn’t care.  Her body was shutting down, weary from the numerous cuts peppering her skin, not to mention the near fatal blow to her middle.  

From her kneeling position near the dead assassin, her strength gave way.  Her legs collapsed, causing her butt to connect with her feet.  Then she tipped over sideways, unconscious. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Present time… 

With the slayer practically bleeding out in his arms, Spike raced towards the hospital, bursting into the Emergency Room and demanding in his most fearsome voice for assistance. 

Men and women dressed in what looked like pajamas came rushing towards him, their experienced eyes assessing the situation, brains in high gear as they prioritized the slayer’s wounds – all while barking out questions of the dark-haired male that had been carrying her. 

Yes, no, I don’t know, and Summers were his answers to questions like, “’Did you see what happened?’ ‘Are you hurt?’ ‘Do you know where her family is?’ and ‘What’s her name?’”    

Spike didn’t yell for them to concentrate on helping the slayer; they seemed capable of doing two things at once.  Then the slayer was loaded on a gurney and wheeled through imposing double doors and into one of the rooms. 

A woman appeared before him a moment later, her petite form, yet gruff exterior, reminding him of one of those tiny dogs that annoyed the hell out of bigger, “badd”er dogs.  He found himself led to a chair and more detailed questions were asked of him – none of which he knew the answers to.  She rolled her eyes at him and told him to go have a seat in the waiting area, while she inputted what information he did know into the computer and attempted to find something that might cross-reference so that she could find contact information for the girl’s parents. 

The vampire ignored her suggestion, striding through the swinging double doors like he owned the place.  When a nurse rushed up to him to say that he wasn’t allowed back here, he just growled and took up sentry in a corner.  She gave up and let him stay; he was out of the way and she really didn’t want to have to think about the dog-like growl he’d given her. 

She had been born in Sunnydale; she knew about the crazy stuff that went on in this town at night. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Joyce dropped the phone, her fingers shaking too bad to properly secure it back in its cradle. 

“Joyce, what is it?” Giles called out as he rushed from the living room into the kitchen.  He took in her shaking hands and pale face and rushed to her side. 

“I-It’s Buffy…she was just admitted to the ER.” 

“Oh dear lord!” 

“I-I need to go…” Her voice trailed off and she moved to look for her purse and car keys.  Giles managed to catch her before her legs gave way and she crumbled to the floor. 

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, easily lifting the distraught woman in his arms and moving towards the front door.  She didn’t put up any fuss at being carried so familiarly; Joyce didn’t think she could stand on her own two feet anyway. 

She’d known her daughter was back in Sunnydale, but not why.  The nurse had said she’d been mugged, apparently slashed repeatedly with a knife of some kind.  The only reason she was still alive was because some man happened upon her and rushed her to the hospital.  Joyce just hoped he was still there…so that she could thank him personally.

Chapter 14

Joyce rushed into the Emergency Room like a mad woman.  Nothing and no one was going to stop her from seeing her daughter this instant.  She was just about to burst through the double doors when a male nurse came out at hearing shouts of “Buffy!” cried repeatedly.  

“Mrs. Summers?”  

She paused in her tracks to focus on the man standing before her. It took a few moments but soon his words started to penetrate her panic-stricken haze.  

“…prepped for surgery.”  

“I’m sorry.” Her face showed her confusion.  “Surgery?”  

“Yes, ma’am.  Your daughter…well, she was hurt real bad.  She’s being rushed to OR as we speak,” he told her as gently as he could.  He tried as much as possible to prepare families for the worst, and this girl, with her knife wounds, definitely fell into the latter group. That she was even alive showed a strength of spirit he’d never before witnessed, her willingness to hold on amazing the very doctors doing everything within their power to save her.  “We’ve a special waiting room, away from all this noise that I can take you to while you wait.”  

“That would be most appreciated,” Giles murmured as he settled a supportive arm around Joyce.  

The room the nurse led them to was fairly dark, the few scant table lamps providing more of a muted atmosphere than any type of actual lighting.  The shadows were numerous, and if it weren’t for the flare of a lighter some several minutes later, Giles would have figured that he and Joyce were alone.  

The watcher was just about to tell the man that the hospital was a “no smoking” zone, but the emotion in the eyes of the vaguely familiar man caused him to bite back the retort.  It was the same look he no doubt would see if he happened to glance in a mirror.  

Anguish.  

So, Giles let him be.  Besides, it wasn’t like Joyce noticed or even cared about the smoke, her mind consumed with thoughts of her daughter.  

The three sat there in the barely lit room, Giles and Joyce huddled together, staring at the neon-colored fish in the tank that formed a partition in the room, while the other man chain-smoked in a darkened corner.  

All of them, ironically, thinking about the same girl.  

~*~*~*~*~  

Spike sensed the moment the two humans drifted off to sleep, no longer able to fight the lure of the sandman – no matter how much they might wish it weren’t so.  He expelled an unnecessary breath that the slayer’s watcher hadn’t seen fit to confront him.  The vampire really hadn’t wanted to alert the others to his presence, and he’d given his word not to harm the slayer’s mates, no matter how much they might provoke him.  

With the two sleeping peacefully, he took a moment to observe the pair.  Something was brewing there.  Their unguarded actions spoke more than just slayer’s mom and slayer’s watcher, momentarily united during this latest crisis.  He’d noticed it the man’s touch, even if the watcher had tried his best to mask it.  

But, the vampire knew body language.  Knew, also, that the mom wasn’t averse to his attentions.  

They just needed some catalyst to spark the flame.  

He dismissed them from his mind and concentrated on the slayer.  He could barely feel her through the claim, the mind-altering drugs sending her into too deep a slumber that even he could not penetrate.  It made him nervous.  No.  It made him want to get up out of his chair and find out what was taking so bloody long.  

Spike had been told the procedure would take several hours, the blade had nicked several internal organs that would require painstakingly precise sewing to see the damage corrected.  Then there was the matter of seeing the gaping wound closed.  

Just another thing to see that the Order paid for.  

The hours slipped by as the vampire imagined scenario after scenario of the final takedown of the Order of Taraka at his and the slayer’s hands.  

~*~*~*~*~  

“Mr. and Mrs. Summers?” The soft-spoken voice cut into their light sleep.  The couple managed to rouse themselves on the second address.  

“I-I’m Joyce Summers.”  

“I’ve got good news.”  Remarkable, near miracle, news actually.  That the girl managed to live and was even now on the mend, her flesh knitting back together at an alarming rate, was something for the record books.  “Your daughter made it through the surgery without any complications.”  

The doctor watched as the woman seemed to sag into the man sitting beside her.  “W-When can I see her?”  

“We’re moving her from post-op to ICU for the next twenty-four hours, just to monitor her.  She had a very close call and we want to pay particular attention to any signs of internal bleeding.  When she’s settled, a nurse will be down to show you to her room.  You can visit for an hour, no more.  She needs her rest, and frankly, so do you.”  

“Yes…thank you, doctor.”  

“It was my pleasure.  It’s always nice to give these kinds of speeches.  Rather makes my day…”  He smiled at the pair then moved off, back the way he’d come.  

In his darkened corner, Spike sent up a silent prayer of thanks to a God that he’d forsaken over one hundred years ago in an abandoned alley in London .  He knew she’d pull through; once they’d started injecting her body with replacement blood he knew her slayer healing would kick in and repair the damage done to her.  But, there’d been this small niggling deep in the back corner of his mind that told him if she were to die, then he’d really and truly be all alone in this world.   

Thirty minutes later, a nurse showed up.  Spike followed at a respectable distance, not wanting to alert the watcher to his presence.  He just needed to mark the room, then once the slayer’s mom left, he’d slip in to make sure that she was all right, before nipping out for a bit of kip.  He wouldn’t go far, just to a secure spot away from any sunlight that would soon be beaming in through the various windows of the hospital.  

Even now his demon was telling him to seek shelter, the approaching dawn causing prickles of awareness to skate up and down along the back of his neck.  

The slayer’s mom and watcher didn’t stay long, wanting only to reassure themselves that she was ok before moving out of the way of the nurse that was seeing to her care.  After they left and the nurse moved off to see to another patient, Spike slipped inside her room.  One hand sought to hold hers, while the other pushed the hair back from her face.   

She was pale.  Paler than normal.  But Spike could see faint traces of returning life in how she seemed to lean into his caress.  The soft mumble of his name on her lips.  

He didn’t smell her blood, or any signs of disease, to which he was extremely grateful.  After a soft kiss to her brow, Spike slipped from the room and took the stairs to the basement.  

Crouched in a darkened corner, the vampire leaned back against the wall and let sleep overtake him.  It was a deep sleep, rife with dreams.  About the slayer…and him.  In the last segue he was racing after her, her pleas for help getting further and further away until he could barely hear her call his name…  

Spike woke with a start.  

In a flash, he was on his feet and racing up the stairs leading to her room.  The sunbeams filtering in through the windows of the staircase singed parts of his skin, but he didn’t care, paying little mind to the pain.  His one thought: reach the slayer.  

She’d been calling him.  

~*~*~*~*~  

For the first time in over a month, Buffy awoke alone, no sign of the vampire that had been her constant companion anywhere in sight.  That freaked her out almost as much as the fact that she’d woken in a hospital with various monitors hooked up to her body.  

She began pulling at the lines, setting off various alarms.  Moments later, a nurse showed, and as Buffy continued to struggle to gain her freedom, another, and then another, rushed into her room to get her to calm down.  It wasn’t working, the people holding her squirming body down flat against the bed just increased her anxiety.  When she felt one foot secured by a restraint, quickly followed by one to her hand, Buffy lost it.  

“Spike!” she screamed his name over and over as she struggled to be free.   

The slayer was oblivious to the nurses as they attempted to calm her down, reassure her that she was ok and just recovering from surgery – she didn’t hear any of it.  Her mind cried out for the vampire to rescue her, to take her away from these people and this place.  

She felt the familiar tinglings that signaled his presence and she stopped struggling briefly – just long enough for a nurse to inject her with a sedative.  Her eyes grew heavy, the drug rushing through her system quickly lulling her to sleep; she tried to stay awake to tell him not to hurt anyone – that she just wanted out of here – but her body was no match against the intravenous injection and went lax against her restraints, sinking back into the mattress.  

Buffy didn’t hear the noise as people went crashing into equipment scattered about the small room.  Nor did she feel the cool fingers that ripped sensors and IVs from her arms, legs, chest, and neck before the vampire hefted her into his arms and close to his chest to make good his escape.  

~*~*~*~*~  

The next time Buffy woke was to find her face pressed up against a cool, bare chest.  She snuggled closer and felt the arms wrapped loosely around her back tighten in reflex.  If it weren’t for the bandages wrapped around her middle, and the fact that there wasn’t a spot on her that didn’t ache in some way, she would have thought the confrontation with the assassins was just a dream.  That her waking up alone and seemingly abandoned in some hospital room, no more than something conjured in her mind.  

She lifted her head and wasn’t surprised to see him awake and watching her.  

“Hey,” she mumbled.  

“Hey there yourself, kitten.  How do you feel?”  

“Like I’ve been run over by a truck,” she grumbled.  

He smiled at her response. “Yeah, well, I imagine a sword to the gullet tends to do that.”  

Amusement lit her eyes, his gentle teasing just what she needed to take her mind off her aches.  She snuggled back against his chest and closed her eyes, the two just laying there in companionable silence.  Buffy must have fallen asleep, because when she opened her eyes it was dark.   

Spike wasn’t in bed with her, but he was near.  She rolled over and watched as he walked out of the bathroom, a towel slung low on his hips.  

“Jus’ gonna nip out and get us a bite to eat.  Hungry?” He walked over and sat down on the mattress beside her.  Tucking a lock of red hair behind her ear, he eyed her intently, looking for any signs that she might still be in pain.  “How do you feel?”  

“Sore…but better.”  Her hand reached up to grip the one he still held against her cheek.  “Hurry back?”  

Spike nodded then rose to slip into a dark pair of slacks and pullover shirt, forgoing his Doc Martins for the casual shoes he’d been wearing when he arrived in Sunnydale.  

Buffy watched every movement he made, the unconscious sensuality of his movements making her wish she wasn’t quite as banged up as she was.  She spotted his glasses lying on the nightstand and reached her hand out to grab them.  

“Don’t forget these,” she called out, dangling them between thumb and forefinger.  

The vampire quirked his brow at her.  

“What?  I think they’re sexy.”  She tried to wiggle her eyebrows at him, but failed miserably.  

He grumbled under his breath but snatched the glasses out of her hand, nonetheless.  

“Don’t open the door for anyone.”  

Buffy rolled her eyes at him.  “As if I could get out of bed.”  

“See that you don’t.”  

Then he was gone and already she was missing him.

tbc...  

Chapter 15

He could hear the pandemonium inside the house on Revello drive as he drew near.  Their panic as they hypothesized what might have happened to the slayer ringing loud and clear in his ears.  Why he was even putting himself at risk like this was anyone’s question.  But, after witnessing firsthand the slayer’s mum’s anguish, he didn’t think he could contribute to it anymore by keeping the location of her daughter a secret.  

As he rang the doorbell, he heard the sounds within quiet down, then someone move away from the group in the living room and towards the door. 

It opened, and Spike stood face to face with the woman that had beamed him in the noggin with an axe. 

“Yes?” 

“I’m sorry to bother you, ma’am,” he told her, trying to affect an American accent.  “It’s just…my car died, and I was wondering if I might use your phone to call a tow truck?” 

Her gruff exterior melted in the face of his boyish charm and she uttered the words Giles had told her repeatedly never to say after dark. 

“Certainly.  Please…come in.  The phone is in the kitchen.” 

The vampire smiled and stepped across the threshold.  Now, if he could just get her alone… 

Seeing the kitchen through the dining room, he moved off in that direction, completely avoiding having to pass in front of the living room – where the slayer’s mates were gathered – and down the hallway.  Joyce seemed slightly startled at his move, and he threw a boyish grin over his shoulder.  “This way?” 

She shook of her hesitation and smiled, nodding as she motioned him towards the kitchen. 

“Who is it, Joyce?” Giles called out from the living room a minute later.  His voice was getting louder as he spoke, like he was walking towards the kitchen.  Fuck!  This wasn’t going to work.  In the dark, his disguise might fool the watcher.  But, in the bright lights of the kitchen, the observant man would easily discern his identity. 

“Sorry, Joyce,” he apologized just before he slipped an arm around her neck and drew her body as a shield in front of his chest.  She let out a gasp of shock, which seemed to bring the watcher into the room even faster. 

~*~ 

Giles rushed into the kitchen and ground to a halt at the sight before him.  A well-dressed man had Joyce held captive in front of him.  He didn’t appear threatening, if you discounted the whole hostage scenario.  It was more like the man was just waiting to see what he was going to do. 

A moment later, Willow and Xander bumped into his back, peeking over his shoulder to see inside the room. 

“You…you let her go…y-you mean person, you,” Willow bravely demanded from her place behind him. 

“Ahhh, Red.  Still as feisty as ever, I see,” Spike remarked, his eyes never leaving the watcher’s.  He waited as the older man slowly realized whom it was that held Joyce captive.  How he tried to tamp down his fear and put on a brave front for the others. 

“What do you want?” Giles ground out. 

“The slayer’s mum here.  Me and her are gonna take a li’l walk.  Have us a nice chat.” 

“Over my dead body!” 

Spike cocked his head to the side as he regarded the man.  The slayer’s friends hadn’t caught on yet who he was, but it was only a matter of time.  “Much as I might wish it were so, I promised the slayer I’d behave.” 

That statement had Joyce angling her head back to look at the man holding her.  “Buffy?  You’ve seen Buffy?” she demanded anxiously. 

The vampire spared her a quick glance, giving her a slight nod before his eyes returned to where the watcher was trying to shift closer to them. 

“Ah. Ah. Ah…that’s far enough. I’d hate to have to go back on my promise.” 

Giles stopped. 

“My daughter?  She’s ok?” Joyce asked him, struggling to remain calm as equal parts of fear and elation threatened to overwhelm her. 

“She’s fine.  Li’l worse for wear, given the situation.  But, she’ll be right as rain in no time a’tal.” 

“Oh thank god!”  She seemed to slump with relief in his arms, and Spike found himself having to tighten his grip around her waist to keep her upright.  

He leaned down and whispered in her ear. 

“If you want to see her, meet me at the school in an hour.  Come alone.” 

Then, Spike shoved her into the waiting arms of the watcher and was out the kitchen door the next moment. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

“What did he say?” Giles asked as he caught Joyce in his arms. 

“He…I…” In a move perfected by women centuries before when trying to avoid answering a question, Joyce affected a faint. Ignoring her conscience that told her to come clean with Rupert, she allowed herself to be half-led, half-carried, to the couch in the living room.  He’d said come alone.  Now all she had to do was get rid of the small group huddled around her so that she could do just that. 

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.  “I-It’s just…finding Buffy in the hospital, and then going back to find that she’d been taken…it’s taken its toll.  Now I have some strange man barging into my house…” 

“That was no man,” Giles told her.  “That was Spike…a vampire.” 

“Spike?!” gasped Xander. 

“What?” eeped Willow at the same time. 

“What would a vampire be doing here, in my home?” Joyce questioned. 

“He’s always had a fascination with slayers and has been credited with killing two of them…one in China, back when he was first turned.  The other in New York during the seventies.  Why he’s back now is anyone’s guess,” the watcher replied.  “It’s safe to say that whatever his reasons, it can’t be good.  And now he’s got an open invitation to your home.” 

Joyce responded to the censorious tone. 

“I’m sorry, Rupert.  I wasn’t thinking.”  And, truthfully, she hadn’t been.  The seemingly nice, well-dressed young man standing outside her door had looked like the furthest thing from a monster.  There’d been something in his eyes, too.  A grudging respect, maybe.  Although, thinking on it now, she must have been mistaken.  

“Yes, well…maybe you should see about staying at a hotel for the night.  At least until we can see about a disinvite spell. We’ll have to let Kendra know.” 

“I’ll just go pack an overnight bag,” Joyce told him as she gained her feet. 

Giles nodded.  “I’ll wait here for you, then see about getting Xander and Willow home.  You’ll get something for Kendra?” 

“Certainly.” 

Ten minutes later, the small group left the house.  Willow and Xander went with Giles towards his small, light blue relic; Joyce climbed into her Jeep.  She’d told the watcher that she would book two rooms at the hotel downtown and leave word with the night clerk that Kendra would be by later to pick up her room key. 

“Very good.  I’ll drop the children off and see if I can catch up with Kendra on patrol.” 

Joyce waved goodbye then hurried off to reserve her rooms.  She figured she’d have just enough time to do that before she had to be at the school. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

The vampire seemed to materialize out of thin air as she pulled into the high school parking lot.  She unlocked the door to allow him entry, hoping on the fact that if he had wanted to kill her, he would have already done so. 

“We’ve gotta make a stop first,” he told her as he slid into the passenger seat.  “Slayer’s hungry, and I wasn’t quite sure what to get her.” 

Joyce nodded, unable to speak, the tears of joy flooding her eyes making it difficult for her to navigate. 

“She’s really ok?” 

“Yeah…” 

~*~ 

“I’ll wait here,” he told her when she pulled into a grocery store parking lot.  “You’ve got ten minutes, or I’m gone.” 

“I’ll hurry.” 

She was back in eight, and would have been back sooner, if it weren’t for the shift change.  Her arms were loaded with all types of food, his warning making her grab just about anything that she came across as she hurried down the aisles. 

For the next twenty minutes, Joyce felt like she was driving in circles until she was about to brave telling the vampire to quit yanking her chain. 

“Pull in here.” 

Joyce did as he asked, and when she parked the car, she realized that she was in one of the less savory areas of Sunnydale.  Her body tensed with fear that she’d been so gullible… 

“I said I’m not going to hurt you,” he growled, sensing her growing agitation.  “Jus’ had to make sure we weren’t bein’ followed.  Now, come on.  Your car should be fine here.” 

He climbed out of the vehicle and she did the same, her eyes widening in shock when he grabbed the two bags of food out of the back seat. 

‘A vampire with manners?’ 

“This way…and stay close.” 

Another ten minutes spent watching their back and Spike finally led the slayer’s mother to their room. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

“It’s about time—” 

Buffy’s rant died off as she watched her mom walk in behind Spike. 

“Mommy?”  The little girl whisper had Joyce flying across the room with no regard to the vampire. 

“Buffy!  Oh, my baby!” 

“Mommy!” 

Spike calmly shut and locked the door as the two women embraced, laughing and crying together. 

“Oh, Buffy.  I was so worried.  When I got the news you’d been hurt…and then…and then you’d been taken from me again…”  The elder woman was openly weeping now. 

“It’s ok, mom.” she soothed.  “Spike…he was just protecting me.  I guess I kinda panicked when I came to after surgery and he wasn’t there.  But, I’m fine now…see.” 

The slayer leaned away from her mother to show her the gaping wound that had closed completely and was just a red puckered scar. 

“In a few days, you won’t even be able to see that,” she told her. 

“Not if you don’t eat,” Spike grumbled. 

“Oh!  What kind of mother am I?  You must be starving!” 

“Maybe just a little bit…”  Ravenous was more like it, hence the gripe that the vampire had taken so long.  But, a few hunger pangs were worth it to have her mother here with her right now. 

Joyce stood up and grabbed one of the two bags that Spike had placed on the bureau.  “I wasn’t sure what you might want, so I got a bit of everything.” 

“Anything’s fine,” Buffy told her.  She watched as her mom reached into the bag and pulled out a can of soup.  “That works.” 

Spike was by the slayer’s side and had taken the can from Joyce’s hand before she could even stand up.  He walked to the small kitchenette and set about putting the soup in a bowl to microwave. 

Buffy just shrugged off his behavior.  To explain their relationship would take more time and energy than she had right now. 

Out of the corner of her eye she caught him stiffen, his eyes narrowed on the door.  

“Mom, can you go get my hairbrush out of the bathroom,” Buffy asked, trying to get her mother out of the way.  Whatever it was that was out there…it would have to get through her first. 

“Sure, honey,” she replied, completely oblivious to the undertones in the room. 

Joyce was halfway to the bathroom when Spike ground out, “Oh bloody hell.” 

Buffy looked at him confused. 

The vampire stormed over to the door and unbolted the locks, throwing the door wide.  He vamped and growled at the cross that was suddenly thrust in his face by Buffy’s watcher. 

“Rupert!” Joyce gasped upon seeing their visitor. 

Confused, Giles glanced around the brassed off vampire to see Buffy’s mother staring at him guiltily.  His distraction cost him, and he thought he was going to meet his maker when Spike quickly disarmed him and dragged him inside the room. 

“Giles?” Buffy called from the bed. 

“Buffy?  Buffy!  You’re all right!” 

“Of course I am!” 

Spike rolled his eyes and secured the door once more before returning to the microwave. 

“I’m sorry for lying to you, Rupert,” Joyce apologized as she sat on the opposite side of the bed.  “But, he told me I could only see her if I came alone…and how did you know where I was?” 

“I hate to say this, Joyce, but you’re a rather horrible liar.  I followed you after I saw Xander and Willow home.  Almost missed you at the hotel you were checked in so fast.” 

He pulled off his glasses and collapsed in a chair beside the slayer’s bed.  His mind refused to touch the fact that there was only one bed.  The whole situation was too surreal to contemplate.  Here he was, his slayer lying in bed, evidently healing just fine.  Her mother was sitting on the far edge of the bed, eyes barely leaving her daughter.  And, in the corner was Spike. Evil, soulless, killed-two-slayers-working-on-my-third Spike. 

To top it off, he was making dinner…for Buffy. 

The watcher felt like he’d stepped into the twilight zone. 

“Would somebody mind explaining to me just what the bloody hell is going on?” Giles demanded rather flabbergasted. 

Buffy looked at her watcher and started laughing, which caused the man to blush three shades of red at losing his composure. 

 ~*~*~*~*~ 

“I knew it was you,” Giles murmured some time later, pride evident in his voice.  “I just didn’t think you had any help.  How did you get him in?” 

“I invited him.” 

The owlish blink brought forth a chuckle from the vampire.  Spike hadn’t said a word as the slayer had told them all that they’d done the previous month, starting with their both being targeted by the Order, up until last night’s final confrontation with the few that had been lurking around Sunnydale. 

The watcher had listened intently throughout, sometimes murmuring a soft compliment at their fortuitousness.  Joyce was near tears by the end, especially when she explained in a monotone voice the details of the battle.  

“Invited him?” he asked incredulous.  “All you had to do was invite him in?” 

“Always thought the Council of Wankers was a bit arrogant in their thinking,” Spike commented. 

Giles turned and glared at the smug vampire before he remembered that he was evil and soulless and could easily have him for a light snack.  Spike just cocked a brow and dared the man to deny his claim.  Realizing the futility of engaging in a battle of wits against Spike, he turned back to his slayer. 

“And the books?” 

“In our bags,” she told him.  “We’re narrowing down the list of possibilities as to the location of their stronghold.” 

“Wait!” Joyce interrupted.  “You mean last night…that wasn’t the end of it.” 

“No.” 

“But…” 

“I’m sorry, mom,” Buffy told her.  “I can’t stay.  I wouldn’t even be back now if it weren’t for the threat against you guys.” 

“Slayer’s right.  They’re just going to keep coming at us until either we’re dead, or they are,” Spike told her matter-of-factly. 

“Oh Buffy!” 

“There has to be a way…” Giles began, only to be cut off by the slayer. 

“There is.  I leave.” 

She glanced at her mom, hardening herself to the emotion she saw churning in the elder woman’s eyes. 

“I can’t stay.  If I do, I’m only putting you all in danger, and I couldn’t live with myself if that happened.” 

“But where will you go?  What will you do?”  Joyce just couldn’t process the fact that she was going to have to give up her daughter all over again. 

“Wherever we have to and whatever we need to,” she stated. 

“When will you—”

“Tomorrow night, the day after at the latest.  We need to take care of a few things before we leave…” She turned to Giles. “…and I was hoping that you could look over the notes we’ve made so far on the location of the Order.  See if we’re not missing something.” 

Giles nodded somberly. 

Buffy glanced at Spike and he could see how tired she was, how emotionally drained. 

“Much as I’ve enjoyed this little reunion of sorts, it’s time for the slayer’s bedtime.  We’ll see you at Joyce’s just before sunup.  Rupes, I’ll trust you to see the slayer’s mum to her car?” 

“Yes, of course…” 

“But how will you…” Joyce began.  She grabbed her purse, fumbling in one of the pockets for her keys.  

“Here,” she told Spike as she handed the vampire her keys.  “Take these and drive over later.  I’ll have Rupert run me home.” 

Joyce returned to her daughter’s side and brushed a quick kiss to her brow, telling her to get some sleep. 

“I’ll see you soon.” 

Buffy just nodded.  If they didn’t leave soon, she was going to break down and cry in front of them. 

Spike saw them to the door. 

“Don’t tell the hospital that she’s been located,” he told them quietly.  “Better for us to disappear if she’s never found, yeah?” 

They both nodded and waved farewell. 

He managed to shed his clothes and climb into bed before the slayer burst into tears.  Dinner –that had been cooling as she retold her story – was forgotten as she poured out her grief at the thought of never seeing her mother or friends again.  Spike held her while she cried, mindful of her injuries.  Eventually, she managed to drift off, lulled by the soothing rumble of his chest and the soft caress of his touch. 

About an hour before dawn, he woke her by lifting her into his arms for the short walk to where Joyce had parked her car – he’d already loaded their stuff beforehand.  In half the time as it took last night, Spike was pulling into the driveway on Revello Drive. 

Neither Joyce nor the watcher must have slept because both of them were standing outside the vehicle before he could even turn off the engine.  Spike opened the door and exited the Jeep, pocketing the keys before walking around to the other side and lifting a dozing slayer in his arms. 

Minutes later, he was lowering her onto the bed in her room with the instruction to go back to sleep.  Buffy mumbled something that sounded like an agreement before rolling to her side and drifting off.  He pulled the covers over her body and quietly exited the room. 

At the bottom of the stairs, he greeted both Joyce and the watcher as they came in with their belongings. 

“I’ve got a cot fixed up for you in the basement,” she told him. 

“Tha’s fine.”  He grabbed the stuff out of her hands, hints of the manners he’d shed long ago suddenly resurfacing. “Thanks.  Well, I’ll jus’ be off.” 

“I think Spike has the right of it,” Giles murmured after the vampire had disappeared below.  “You should get some rest, Joyce.” 

She nodded.  “You’ll be alright on the couch?” 

It had been decided that he’d stay here, keep Kendra calm once she woke to find a vampire in the house and thought to stake first and ask questions later – they’d searched the cemeteries but hadn’t been able to find her, and once returning home, noticed that she was in bed asleep. 

“I’ll be fine.” 

She nodded at him, her eyes suddenly sad. 

“I’m going to have to give her up, aren’t I?” 

He moved closer, his hand lifting to stroke her face. 

“A slayer’s life is destined to be a short one.  At least… maybe with Spike at her side, she’ll last a bit longer.” 

“It’s just…I’d hoped…” 

Giles wrapped his arms around her and drew her head to his shoulder. 

“Shhhh… I know.” 

He held her while sobs wracked her body, allowing her to cry the tears that he couldn’t shed.  When she was spent, he guided her up the stairs to her bedroom and over to her bed.  He didn’t speak as he pulled off her shoes and helped her slip beneath the covers, just performed the motions as a father would a child.  Afterwards, he leaned over her and kissed her cheek. 

“Get some sleep, Joyce.” 

Then he straightened and quietly left the room. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Buffy woke not thirty minutes later.  She knew Spike was near, the tingles on her neck were there, just not as concentrated as usual when she slept.  With the sun beginning to peek through her curtains, she figured out where he was and hastily gained her feet to hurry to the basement. 

She’d gotten used to sleeping with the vampire, and if she stayed in her own bed, all she’d do was toss and turn. 

As quiet as she could be with her cracked ribs and healing wounds, she descended the staircase and made a sharp turn into the kitchen.  A moment later she opened the basement door and walked down another flight of stairs. 

He was waiting for her, stretched out on his side on the cot, his arm holding the covers away from his body so she could slide in next to him. 

She did just that and sighed in contentment as she cuddled close and went back to sleep.  In the darkened corner of the basement, the slayer curled up next to him, Spike finally allowed himself to sleep. 

~*~ 

Giles watched his slayer make her way down the stairs and toward the kitchen.  There was no doubt in his mind of her destination.  The two had obviously formed a bond this past month, one that defied everything that he’d been taught as a watcher-in-training. 

That Spike hadn’t killed her, or them, baffled him just as much as it amazed him.  Their behavior was definitely due a long write-up in his diary. 

But not now. 

Now he needed to sleep, and later he had to help his slayer. 

Afterward, then he’d see to it.  Immortalize the bond between these two mortal enemies on paper…even if it did get him thrown out of the Council.

Chapter 16

Spike woke up about an hour or so after noon … starving.  He’d not fed last night, more concerned with getting Joyce to her daughter.  The thrum of blood in the slayer’s veins was too powerful a lure to be denied.  He could take just a little and that would hold him over until nightfall.  And, he’d definitely need the nourishment if he were going to be around her watcher for the rest of the afternoon poring over books and the notes he and the slayer had managed to accumulate.  

His hands found their way beneath her clothes, slowing arousing her body.  He was rock hard, his cock straining against the zipper of his pants, and he couldn’t help but grind himself into her ass.  She didn’t seem to mind, caught up in the feel of his hands gliding over her flesh, teasing her.  His fingers slid beneath her knickers to tease her slit, until they were slick with her response.  

She was moaning softly now, completely caught up in what he was doing to her, how he was making her feel.  His fangs pierced her flesh at the same time he slid two fingers deep inside her and he couldn’t help the moan of pleasure as her blood spilled onto his tongue.  The slayer arched against him, driving his fangs deeper into her neck, oblivious to the slight pain that action caused as her body responded to the gliding motion of his fingers.  

Spike forced himself to go slow, to where he was just swallowing her blood as it filled his mouth, rather than sucking deeply at the holes at her throat.   

As the door to the basement opened, he growled possessively, his amber gaze searching out the person that had dared to enter his territory.  

~*~  

“Buffy?  Are you down here?  Giles told me to wake you up…he had—”  

His voice trailed off as the light from above shined down on the two people lying together on the cot.  Xander could only stare in horror as Spike slowly drained his friend dry.  When the signals coming from his brain finally reached his voice box and legs, he hollered for Giles as he raced back up the stairs.  

~*~*~*~*~  

Spike didn’t move as the basement was suddenly flooded with light and no fewer than five people clamored down the stairs to see what was going on.  He growled louder, the warning tone snapping the slayer out of the sexual haze she’d been in just moments ago.  

Buffy opened her heavy-lidded eyes to see expressions ranging from shock, to anger, to outright fear, on the faces of her friends and family.  She moved to reassure them, tell them that she was all right, but as if sensing her intentions, the grip around her body tightened, the growl increasing.  

“Let her go…you… you…”  Willow ’s voice trailed off, unable to come up with a scathing enough insult, “vampire” just not having the right connotation at this moment.  

The slayer’s eyes moved over the faces of her friends, seeking out her watcher.  If she calmed him down, then maybe they could explain the situation without the use of pointy wood entering the conversation.  And a quick glance at her sister slayer said it wasn’t going to take much for that to happen – she was poised to fight and was just looking for an opening.  

Her gaze locked with Giles’, her eyes silently imploring him to get the others to leave.  He seemed to hesitate, which only made Spike growl again.  

“Please, Giles, just go…we’ll be up in a minute.” Then her eyes shifted to her mother.  “Mom, I’m fine.  Just—”  

“Come on everyone.  You heard my daughter.”  Joyce’s no-nonsense voice rang out and the small troupe reluctantly made their way upstairs.  

His fingers had stilled inside her, but the moment the door clicked shut, he was moving them again, forcing all thought away until nothing remained but the feel of him inside her.  The other hand that had been wrapped around her middle, snaked up her abdomen to tease her breast, alternately rubbing first one hardened peak and then the other.  

In seconds, she was writhing in front of him again, the dying embers stoked to a burning flame under his skillful hands.  She clamored to get closer, needing him inside her…but he ignored her subtle pleas, content to bring her off with hands alone.  

Then she didn’t care anymore, because she was flying.  The sucking at her neck increased as her climax tore through her body, drawing out the moment until it was almost too much.   

Her rigid muscles eventually relaxed and she sank bonelessly into the cot.  

Spike withdrew his fangs, the rumbling in his chest automatic as he laved at the fresh set of marks.  That seen to, he slid his fingers free and paid them the same attention he had her neck, the heady taste of her pleasure the next best thing to her blood.  

When he was finished, he curled up around her and silently willed his hard-on away.  Not an easy feat given her proximity, or the fact that he now had her taste in his mouth.  In front of him, he could feel her start to doze off, and he shook her awake.  

“Uh uh, luv.  We don’t make an appearance soon and all bets are gonna be off.  Come on now, up you go,” he coaxed.  

“Do we have to?” she whined, even as she obediently sitting up on the cot.  

“Where’s that hard-as-nails slayer from yesterday?”  

“Right here, and so not wanting to explain why I’ve become your chew toy.”  She ran her fingers through her hair then stood, a resigned sigh escaping her lips at the coming confrontation.  Spike was a step behind her, snagging the shirt he’d worn the night before from the floor and slipping it over his head.  

“So don’t,” he stated in his no-nonsense manner.  “You don’t owe them any explanations.  Besides, tomorrow night we’ll be gone and…”  

He stopped at seeing her stricken expression, moving to her side so that he could draw her close.  “Hey, now.  None of that.”  

“It’s just—”  

“I know.”  And he did.  No matter how much the little girl in her might want to stay, the slayer in her knew she couldn’t.  The first time she’d left, every last drop of emotion, save rage, had been drained from her, so that she hadn’t cared one way or another.  The carefree girl was gone, and in her place was a cold-blooded killer intent on revenge – at whatever cost.   

But, she’d been slowly opening herself up in recent weeks, allowing herself to feel again.  

Seeing her mother hadn’t been something for which she’d been prepared.  The slayer had thought she could slip into Sunnydale and back out again with no one being the wiser, without any contact with those she’d left behind.  Now, when she left, she knew what she’d be giving up.  No more friends.  No more family.  Just an evil vampire as a companion.  

“Come on.  Your mates are probably getting anxious.  The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can see how much that watcher of yours knows.”  

He pulled away from her and directed her towards the stairs.  

~*~*~*~*~  

Buffy stood protectively in front of Spike as the two paused in the hallway leading to the living room.  Five sets of eyes looked up at their approach, none of them knowing quite what to say after what they’d all witnessed in the basement.  The fact that the girl standing before them looked nothing like their Buffy also lending to the silence.  

Then Xander being Xander had to open his mouth and cram his foot down it like usual.  

“Sooo… Buffy, another vampire, huh?” he said snidely.  

A growl erupted from Spike’s chest, but the slayer was faster.  She was across the room and had her friend pinned up against the wall in a matter of seconds.  Her forearm dug into his neck as she glared up at him.  

Everyone in the room froze as they watched Buffy stronghold Xander.  Kendra looked like she was ready to go after Spike, but Joyce put a calming hand on her wrist – the vampire just smiled at the dark-skinned slayer.  

Then all eyes turned to Buffy as she spoke to Xander in a voice no one had heard before, save Spike.  

“I don’t even know why I came back.  Shoulda’ just told the Order to let them have you.”  Her eyes were as hard as steel as she looked upon the boy that she’d once called friend.  “Ya know… fuck you, Xander.  I neither want, nor do I have to, explain myself to you.”  Her head swiveled to Willow .  “Anything you care to add while we’re all in a sharing mood.”  

“N-no…no… I…”  

“Buffy, that’s enough,” Giles interrupted.  

“Enough?  Enough?  Do you have any idea what I’ve been through this last month?  Any?  Then to come back, dispense with the threat to all of your lives, only to have you judge me?  Well, screw you,” she yelled.  

“Buffy…honey.  No one’s—”  

“Oh please, mom.  You guys took one look at him feeding from my neck and assumed the worse.  Never mind that he’s been by my side since I left…”  

“Slayer…” Spike called out calmly.  

“What?” Her head turned to regard him.  

“Let ‘im go, luv.”  

Buffy turned back to see Xander twitching.  She stepped back abruptly, leveling him with a look of disgust before returning to the vampire’s side.  Ignoring Xander’s coughing, and how Willow rushed to his side, she stepped close to Spike and waited for him to wrap his arms around her.   

He did, pulling her close to his chest, his stance just daring anyone to object.  

“We should just go,” Buffy mumbled under her breath.  She was tired.  And this drama wasn’t something that she really needed to deal with.  

Spike didn’t care one way or the other; if the slayer wanted to leave, they’d leave.  He turned around, leading her out of the room and back to the basement to get their things.  

“Wait!” Giles called out.  The two stopped but didn’t turn around.  “You wanted me to look over your notes.  Please…stay.  Let me try to help you.”  Joyce would never forgive them if her daughter walked away right now.  

“Alright,” Spike replied after a time.  “We’ll grab the books and meet you in the dining room.”  

Giles breathed a sigh of relief and he felt Joyce’s hand slip in his and give it a gentle squeeze of thanks.  A moment later, she stepped away and headed for the kitchen to see about some snacks; it was probably going to be a late night and if she remembered correctly, her daughter hadn’t eaten her soup before she’d left, and it was doubtful she ate it once she was gone.  “Kendra, can you get the curtains in the dining room?”  

“Certainly, Miz Summers,” the slayer replied in her heavily accented voice.  A part of her wanted to argue, but she held her tongue…for now.  

When Giles was alone with Willow and Xander, he turned to the boy, his displeasure evident on his features.  

“Xander, if you can’t keep your mouth shut, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.  Buffy is only here until tomorrow night and I’ll not have her last moments with her mother spoiled by the jealous ramblings of—”  

“Buffy’s leaving?” Willow interrupted, somewhat confused.  

The watcher pulled his glasses off, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.  “Yes, Willow.  Buffy knows she can’t stay here.  Both she and Spike are targets of the Order of Taraka.  For her to stay would be to put us all in danger.  It’s why she left before.  Until…unless she can find them…well, suffice to say, she’s never coming back.  That she’s managed to stay alive this long proves what a good team she and Spike make.”  

“Oh my God…that’s just…how awful.”  

“Yes, it is rather that.”  His gaze shifted from the redhead back to the boy, his harsh expression giving way in the face of the slayer’s stark reality.  

“Good riddance,” he ground out as he stormed towards the front door.  

“Xander!” Willow cried.  He ignored her, slamming out the front door and away from the slayer’s home.  She stared in shock at the open door, not comprehending how her friend could just walk away after everything they’d been through in the last year and a half.  

“He didn’t mean it, Willow,” Giles told her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.  “He’s just angry and upset.  It’s his way of dealing.  He’ll be back.”  

“I’ve never seen him like this,” she confessed.  “He’s usually so easygoing…”  

“Yes, well.” He coughed, unsure what exactly to say.  Instead, he changed the subject, returning his glasses to his face.  “Would you like to stay around for an impromptu research party?”  

“You betcha.”  

“Come on then.”  

~*~*~*~*~  

Conversation was stilted around the dining room table, everyone trying to put on a good front in the face of Xander’s glaring absence.  Eventually, the books and research consumed them and more notes were scribbled down, hypotheses made.  

Through it all, Joyce marveled at the resilience of her daughter.  

How she’d taken every punch and low blow life had to offer her and kept coming back for more.  The fact that she was on death’s doorstep just the day before and now, she had her nose buried in a book, all in an effort to find those that were trying to kill her – so she could go to them.  Face them on their own turf.  

The pride she had for her daughter knew no bounds.  The mental image she had at this moment, something to sustain her in the months, perhaps years, ahead.  Her face a mask of determination as she concentrated on the text place on the table in front of her.  

Joyce watched as her daughter often looked over at the vampire.  How the light in her eyes dimmed a bit as he excused himself at sunset, before she shook off the feeling and returned to her reading.  When he came back, she noticed that he had a bag for her…dinner apparently, as she pulled the hamburger and fries out of the bag.  That forced Joyce to see about their own meal, the idea of pizza met with approval all the way around – including Buffy (who’d finished off the food Spike had brought her) and Spike.  

After eating, Kendra left to patrol.  Buffy didn’t even bother to get up and go with her 1) because she didn’t think Spike would let her out of his sight, and 2) she was still a bit sore from her run in with the Order’s assassins the other night.  Instead, she continued to read until her eyes started to cross and the words on the page started to blur.  

Around eleven o’clock , Spike called a halt to the slayer’s involvement, sending her off to bed to rest.  Her friend, Willow , was starting to droop in her chair as well, and he offered to take her home.  That neither she, nor Giles, balked at his suggestion showed that they were trying to get along, and a moment later the redhead and the vampire disappeared out the front door.  

“Why don’t you go on up to bed, Joyce?”  

“What about you?”  

“I’ve got some things I want to look over first.  Besides, there’s always the couch,” he responded.  

“Alright then.  Good night, Rupert.”  

“Good night.”  

~*~*~*~*~  

When Spike returned, it was to find the dining room deserted, save the watcher.  Neither spoke as he gained his seat and picked up the book he’d been reading before.  The soft rustling of the aged pages broke the silence, as did the occasional scrawl of the pen on paper as Giles wrote.  Towards dawn, Spike had had enough and stood to make his way downstairs.  

“Does she know?” Giles asked just as he reached the kitchen.  

Spike had to suppress a smile.  He knew the watcher was an observant man, that he’d notice right off the different set of marks on her neck that the slayer had done nothing to hide.  But, it wasn’t any of business of this man.  Like the slayer said, they owed no one an explanation.  It leant a harshness to his response.  

“She accepted me.”  

“But does she know,” Giles persisted.  

“She will…in time.”  

“You…care for her,” he whispered, astonished.  The realization shook his very foundation.  A truce was one thing.  For a vampire, one not hindered by a soul, to develop feelings…and for the very thing that was created to destroy their kind.  

“Yes.”  Spike stood and made to leave the room.  

“Then you’ll look after her?”  

“Goes without saying, mate.”  

Giles waited until the vampire was out of earshot, the whispered thank you that left his lips something he could never say to his face.  

But Spike heard it anyway.  

~*~  

Giles researched for the remainder of the night, ignoring his body’s demand for rest.  When he felt his eyes start to close, he put a pot of tea on to boil.  Joyce had invested in the teakettle after he’d become a frequent visitor in the wake of Buffy’s disappearance.   

His fingers flew across the paper as he scribbled note after note in his effort to make sense of all the cryptic writing he’d come across.  He just prayed the vampire would be able to read his writing.  When he was finished translating what he could, he grabbed a fresh set of sheets and began composing a letter to his slayer.  

~*~*~*~*~  

Buffy carefully disentangled herself from the sleeping vampire and climbed off of the cot.  She was feeling better today, her body just about healed after the beating she’d taken.  After a shower, she’d feel like a brand new slayer.  

Twenty minutes later, she was feeling much like her old self.  She took a moment to slather on the beauty products she’d done without the past month, the faint fragrance of jasmine perfuming her skin rather than the hotel bar soap she’d gotten used to.  She’d have to see if she could splurge once in a while when she and Spike were on their own again.  

She made her way into the kitchen and greeted her mother and Kendra.  The smell of freshly made pancakes caused her stomach to rumble loudly.  

“Sit down.  Eat,” Joyce laughed.  

“Thanks, mom.”  She took a small stack, slathering them with butter and pouring syrup over the top.  At the first bite, she hummed her pleasure.  “These are great!”  

“Well, eat up.  There’s plenty more where that came from.”  

Buffy ate two helpings before she finally pushed her plate away.  “I can’t eat another bite.”  

Joyce smiled at her daughter, glad she could do this one last thing for her.  

Reluctantly, Buffy gained her feet.  “I’ve got to take care of a few things.  If Spike wakes up, tell him I’ll be back shortly.”  

She turned to Kendra.  “I can trust you to leave him be, can’t I?”  

“I’ll no’ be harmin’ ‘im, if’n he behaves ‘imself,” she confirmed.  

“Ok.”  She grinned at the girl and stood.  

“Do you need me to take you?” her mom asked.  

“No.  I’ll be fine.  I should be back in a couple of hours.”  

“Ok.  Be careful, sweetie.”  

~*~  

Buffy walked into the bar.  It was too early for customers, but the owner was there for the deliveries being made.  

“Willie!  Remember me?”  

Willie glanced over at the obviously dyed redhead, his gaze taking in the harsh clothing and pale features.  If she wasn’t standing smack dab in the middle of a sunbeam, he could have sworn she was a vampire.  There was just something about her, the confident attitude that clearly defined her as a predator, rather than the prey.  

“Uh…”  

The slayer walked over to the bar, easily vaulting over the top so that she could pin the slimy bartender up against the wall.  Glasses wobbled precariously and bottles threatened to topple over and shatter on the ground.  

Willie was ready to shit in his pants.  The girl holding him so effortlessly against the wall brought recollection of another…  

“Slayer?”  

“Give the man a cookie!”  

“Uhhh… what can I do for you?”  

“You can take me to see your friend Harry again.”  

“Harry?  Oh, right!  Harry!  Sure, slayer…whatever you say.”  

~*~*~*~*~    

The rest of the day went by too fast for Joyce.  The imminent nightfall something she wished with all her heart that she could hold off.  

Xander had returned earlier in the day to make amends. Her daughter had accepted his apology, but Joyce could see the stiffness in her actions, as if she were waiting for the boy to try something, say something.  

Both he and Willow had left just moments before, neither of them willing to witness the slayer’s final goodbye.  Each of them praying for their friend’s success against the Order.  

Right now, Buffy was upstairs in her room, talking to Kendra while she packed away her things.  No doubt telling the girl all about how she used to climb in and out of her window via the tree so that she could patrol.  Well, with Joyce now aware of certain things, she’d be using the front door.  The three had talked earlier, and Buffy had insisted that her sister slayer take her room and move out of the tiny spare bedroom; it was nothing more than a storage area, and it wasn’t like her room was going to see any use.  Kendra had finally relented and after Willow and Xander had left, Buffy had taken a box out of the basement to pack away the affects that had made the room “hers,” sealing it up to be put in storage.   

Joyce felt the minutes continue to tick by, sensed the approaching night by the shift of the shadows in the kitchen.  Too soon! she told herself.  She wasn’t ready to let her baby go. She was supposed to graduate high school, and then Joyce was supposed to let her daughter spread her wings just a little bit as she went away to college, and then finally letting go once she got married.  

But not now.  

Buffy was only sixteen.  

It wasn’t time…  

Joyce reined in her emotions.  If she got to thinking too hard about what ifs, she’d never be able to keep her composure.  She just needed to have faith in her daughter.  Buffy would find this Order and decimate them.  Then she’d come home, back where she belonged.  

~*~*~*~*~  

Buffy packed away the last item as she noticed the sun slip behind the trees.  

It was time.  

Lifting the box in her arms, she said a quick goodbye to Kendra, giving her room a last glance, before she turned and made her way down the stairs. 

In the basement, she noticed Spike had just finished packing away their belongings.  She put the box on one of the shelves then preceded him up the stairs for their final goodbyes.  

Her watcher was first.  The awkwardness of his affection warmed her heart, the quick hug and his blusterings something that would stay with her forever.  He really was more like a father to her than her own had been.  He gave her a stack of notes and added a couple of his own texts, which she stuck in her bag for later.  

Then came her mom.  

She threw herself in her mother’s arms, hugging her tightly as she tried desperately not to cry.  Buffy wasn’t quite sure how long they stayed like that, only that she didn’t want it to be over.  The finality of the moment not lost on either of them.  

Spike’s words cut short her goodbye.  

Time to go.  

Buffy pulled away, felt the brush of her mother’s hand across her cheek one last time before she turned and walked out the front door behind the vampire.  

She didn’t turn around.  

Didn’t see her mother sag helplessly against her watcher as she gave in to her grief.  

Eyes staring straight ahead, she climbed into the cab that would take them to the airport.  

Their destination: the next clue to the puzzle.  

The Middle East .  

~*~*~*~*~  

Joyce did as Spike asked, never telling the hospital that she’d seen her daughter.  Eventually, the staff forgot about the day that some crazed man in black stormed into the ICU and kidnapped one Buffy Summers.  The trail grew cold, and like so many before her, her disappearance was soon relegated to the back burner by local law enforcement, until it was eventually filed away in the “unsolved cases” drawer.

End