Chapter 5

Kendra walked into the library alone.  All eyes lifted towards the swinging double doors at the sound of her approach.  She’d stayed at her sister slayer’s house for as long as she dared before finally making her way over to the school.  She’d ignored the ringing phone – not that she’d answer it anyway – but she’d figured it was Buffy’s watcher calling to find out where the two were.

“Where’s Buffy?” Giles asked as the dark-skinned slayer came to stand by their table.

“She ees gone.”

“Gone?  What do you mean…gone?” Xander asked, confused.

“When’s she going to be back,” Willow asked almost at the same time as Xander.  Her naïve mind hadn’t grasped that when Kendra had said gone, she had meant for good.

“She ees not comin back,” Kendra announced in her heavily accented voice.  “She t’ought it would be for de best.  Better her alone, den her family and her friends too, she said. I will stay ‘ere in her place.”

Giles took off his glasses as he leaned back in his chair.

“She shouldn’t have gone off alone.  I can’t believe you would be so irresponsible as to let her leave. We would have figured something out…we could…”  His voice trailed off as he caught the look Kendra gave him.  She was right.  As much research as they could have done, nothing would have been enough.  By staying here, Buffy would have announced her location to the Order of Taraka and practically begged them to come after her.

“Buffy,” Willow whimpered softly. “She’s out there all alone, Giles.  Oh God!  What are we gonna tell her mother?”

“I don’t know, Willow.  I don’t know.”

~*~*~*~*~

It was quiet inside the blackened-out Desoto as they made their way along Highway 10 out of the city.  They’d been driving for several hours, no clear destination in mind.  It was probably for the best – if they didn’t know where they were going, there was no way the Order’s assassins would know where they were either.

“Spike?” she called his name in a soft voice, her eyes fixed on the road in front of them.

“Yeah, pet.”

“Where would…that is…uh…” her voice trailed off.

Spike continued to drive down the road.  He knew what she wanted to say, to ask; he just didn’t know if he was ready to talk about it yet.

“Where was his most favorite place?”  The words slipped from her mouth almost ten minutes later.  Neither looked at the other, both thinking back to that moment when they'd watched as the two vampires had turned to dust before their eyes.

“Don’t rightly know,” he answered softly. 

“Ok.”  If it weren’t for his enhanced vampiric hearing, he wouldn’t have heard her.

They were almost to Phoenix when she spoke again.

“What about Drusilla?  Where will you take her?”  She didn’t know why she asked.  She didn’t think he’d answer her.  She was just trying to get some sort of idea for a final resting place for Angel.  As much as she may want to, she couldn’t keep lugging his ashes with her – something was bound to happen to them.  Better for his final resting place to be someplace that Angel might have called home.

Spike surprised himself by answering the slayer.

“She was destined for the convent before she was turned.  It’s only fittin' that she return there.”

Buffy turned her face to look at him.  His jaw was working furiously, trying to keep his emotions in check.  She could see his hands fisted around the steering wheel; she just hoped he didn’t pull the thing off in his anger.

She lifted her hand as if to place it on his shoulder, possibly offer him some small type of comfort.  He must have caught the motion out of the corner of his eye, because he turned away from the slit in the front window to glance at her. 

Pain burned in the depths of his deep blue eyes.  Buffy knew it because she was sure the same was reflected in her own. 

“I…thanks,” she murmured, dropping her hand without touching him.  A half smile played about his lips before he turned back to the road.

~*~*~*~*~

When the sun finally set, Spike pulled into the first motel he could find.  He was starting to get hungry, but wanted to get the slayer settled for the night before hunting for food. 

“Hungry?” he asked her as he came back to the car with their key.

She just shook her head and climbed out of the car, grabbing her duffle from the back seat.  He’d picked a corner ground floor unit this time, not that they’d had to worry about too many neighbors at this rundown hellhole. But as long as the sheets were clean and the water was hot, she didn’t care.

“I’m going to take a shower,” she said, not bothering to look back to see if he came in or not.  She knew he was hungry, and she just didn’t have it in her to stop him. 

She dropped her bag on the bed and continued walking towards the bathroom.

Spike watched the slayer for a moment.  She looked defeated, her shoulders slumped as if she carried the weight of the world on them.  Shaking off his concern, he turned and made his way to the door.  Her whispered words haunted him as he opened the door to leave.

“Don’t prey on the innocent.”

Spike stayed out for several hours.  Each time he saw an easy meal, he held back – her words whispering through his head in a silent plea.  Frustrated at himself, he finally scoped out a seedy bar to engage in a little sport to ease some of the tension pervading his body.  And, he could just as easily find dinner here as well.  Smiling for the first time in hours, he made his way across the street to where two men were engaging in a knife fight outside the front door. 

An evil chuckle escaped his mouth as he noticed the name of the bar: Hellraisers.

Oh yeah, he’d fit right in here.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike let himself back into their room around 1a.m., his body slightly warmed by the fresh blood he’d recently consumed.  And he’d even listened to the slayer, choosing two men with evil streaks a mile wide.  Or, so they'd thought until encountering him.  He’d gloried in their fear as he’d drained first one and then the other in the alley behind the bar.

He locked the door behind him, securing the chain.  Pulling off his duster, he let it fall over the back of a chair.  He checked the curtains, making sure that no stray beam could peek in and burn him in the morning.  Satisfied, he sat down on the vacant bed and pulled off his boots and socks before removing his shirts.  Naked but for the jeans riding low on his hips, he moved to pull back the covers on his own bed, but stopped.

His head cocked to the side as he listened.

There it was again.  A soft sound, almost like a moan.  His eyes narrowed on the slayer as she lay curled in a ball on the other bed.  He frowned as he noticed her slight frame shake.  Then he figured out what she was doing…she was crying. In her sleep. 

Walking towards the other bed, he gazed down at her.  Tears were falling from beneath her closed lids in wet streaks down her face.  In her arms, she held a container close to her.  Angel.  She must be having a nightmare. 

Realizing he wouldn’t get any sleep with her crying all night, he reached down and gently pulled the box from her hands.  He walked over to the dresser and set the container aside.  Calling himself all kinds of fools, he slipped under the covers in bed next to her.  He tried not to wake her as he pulled her back into his arms and held her close.

She seemed to calm somewhat at his touch, and the silent sobs wracking her body eventually stopped.  A contented sigh escaped the vampire’s lips as he snuggled close to the slayer’s warm body and allowed the slow, even beat of her heart lull him to sleep.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy woke to the feel of a cool, bare chest beneath her cheek, her bare legs entangled with a pair encased in denim.  Twin arms wrapped around her back holding her close, almost in a protective gesture.  Still half asleep, she snuggled closer to the body wrapped around hers and let out a sigh as he tightened his hold on her, pulling her closer.

It felt so good just to be held like that.  She felt safe.

Tilting her head back, she opened her eyes and wasn’t surprised to see blue eyes gazing down at her.  She just watched him watching her, lost in his cerulean depths. 

She couldn’t be quite sure who made the first move, or if it was by some mutual understanding.  His head dipped as hers rose, and then their lips were touching. 

‘His lips are so soft,’  was the vague thought circling in her brain as his lips roamed back and forth across hers.  When he began nibbling on her lower lip, her eyes fluttered closed and she allowed herself to be swept away by the unexpected desire flooding her body at his touch.

His tongue flicked out to tease her lips, silently begging entrance.  She hesitated and he stopped the trail of his tongue and went back to nibbling at her lower lip.

‘God, he’s good at this,’  she thought, just before he sucked her lip into his mouth.  She couldn’t prevent the soft moan that rumbled from somewhere in the back of her throat before escaping her now parted lips. 

Spike took advantage of her brief lapse, slipping his tongue inside to see how good she tasted.  Her heat was intoxicating and he answered her low moan with a growl of his own.  One of his hands slipped from behind her back to cup her jaw, his thumb sliding idly back along her skin as his tongue plundered her mouth.

When she used her tongue to begin a timid duel with his own, he was lost.  Her innocence captivated him and he found the tenuous hold on his control slip.

Her shyness quickly gave way and she tore her lips from his so she could use her tongue to mimic what he had done to her.  The pink tip darted out to circle his parted lips. Then, she grew bolder as she worried his retracted canines, unknowingly hitting on one of his most erogenous zones.  Spike couldn’t prevent the growl that erupted from him at her touch, and he wondered briefly if she had any idea how erotic it was to have her tongue trace his teeth like that.

He needed to feel the weight of her body against him.  Using the arm still molded around her back, he held her tight as he rolled to his back, allowing her body to drape over the top of his.  His chest seemed to burn where her hardened nipples bore into him through the thin material of her nightshirt.  He let her set the pace, not wanting to scare her off…but, god, she was driving him crazy.  He needed to take control, devour her like she was slowly devouring him.

His fingers fisted in her new raven-colored locks and gently tugged her head back, breaking their kiss and exposing the long column of her neck to his gaze.  His lips whispered along her jaw and down her neck.  He felt her breath hitch as he began lightly nibbling up and down her throat. 

When she offered no signs of protest to his ministrations, he gave into the lust that was consuming him and rolled them over so that he lay on top of her.  His lips blazed a trail to her ear, his teeth gently nibbling on her lobe.  The tip of his tongue traced a path along the shell of her ear.

Buffy moaned as Spike alternately nipped and sucked at her earlobe.  His cool breath as it whispered over the wet trail he was leaving was doing crazy things to her sensory circuits.  She felt like she was about to spontaneously combust at the heat generating through her body. 

“God… Spike,” she whimpered as she pulled him even closer.

“Mmmmm, pet, you taste so good,” he whispered hoarsely.

Suddenly, he stopped, his whole body going rigid as he lay on top of her.  Her eyes fluttered open in confusion, just in time to see his blue eyes give way to amber, ridges on his brow forming as his demonic features slipped into place.  Before Buffy had time to react, Spike launched himself off of her just as the motel door burst open and two assassins stormed inside.

Buffy, clad in only a t-shirt and panties, scrambled off the bed just as one of the assassins charged her.  Spike had engaged the other, but he was hampered by the sunlight streaming in through the open door.  She darted around the foot of the bed and quickly kicked the door shut before rushing to her bag and grabbing the first weapon she put her hand on.

She remained crouched on the floor next to her bag as the assassin charged her again.  Just before he reached her, she came up swinging with her axe.  Her attacker managed to duck at the last moment and avoid the blow aimed at his head.  The Order apparently knew its business, sending humans after her.  But, they were sadly mistaken if they thought that she wouldn’t kill one to save her own life.  Her Slayer honor code only stretched so far. 

She was too concentrated on her fight with her attacker to pay much attention to Spike and how he was handling his, but she nearly faltered when she heard him cry out in pain, right before he roared in agony.  The bastard had just sprayed him with holy water and followed it up with a stake that landed just wide of its intended target.  His attacker was leaning over him with a second stake aimed straight at his heart, and Buffy saw red.

In a blink of an eye, the axe in her hand soared through the air to imbed itself in the assassin’s back.  She watched as he crumpled beside Spike before turning back to confront the remaining assassin. 

The other had paused, momentarily perplexed that she had killed a human bent on destroying a vampire.  Seeing his confusion, she smirked at him.

“What?  Didn’t think I’d kill a human because I’m the Slayer?” she asked rhetorically, sarcasm dripping heavily from her voice.  She watched his eyes widen as he realized that it was the slayer standing before him, not some vamp meal.  A smile touched her lips that her disguise had seemed to be working.  Good thing this assassin wasn’t going to live long enough to enlighten the Order as to her changed appearance.

“Oh, I’m sorry…you’re get-out-of-jail card expired the moment your Order tried to kill me.  Human, demon… makes no difference to me who you guys send.  You’re one and the same.”

To prove her point, she cart wheeled in the slight aisle at the foot of the bed towards the fallen assassin and ripped the axe from his back as she came to her feet.  The axe left her hand before the remaining attacker had time to prepare, and his eyes widened in amazement before glazing over as he too slumped to the floor in a heap, the axe buried deep in his chest.

Once assured he was dead, Buffy turned to where Spike lay on the ground desperately trying to pull the stake from his chest.  His torso was crimson from the blood pouring out of the wound; angry welts arced across his chest, arms, and face from where the holy water was thrown on him.

“Spike,” she called softly as she cradled his head in her lap.

“Slayer…hurts…pull it out…” he whimpered, before he passed out from the pain.

She eyed the stake protruding from his chest as blood seeped out around it.  If she pulled it out now, she’d have to concentrate on stemming the flow and they wouldn’t be able to get out of there.  Reaching a decision, she laid his head back on the floor.  She grabbed her jeans and threw them on.

Racing around the room, she packed as quickly as possible and loaded their stuff in the car.  Back in the motel room, she grabbed a sheet from the bed and started ripping it into strips.  She knelt down by Spike and yanked the stake out in one quick pull.  Immediately, blood welled from the gaping hole in his chest.  She grabbed the strips she had made and set about wrapping them around his wound.

When she was finished, she pulled and prodded and finally managed to get him on the bed.  Rushing back outside, she opened the passenger door of his Desoto.  She hurried back to the room and wrapped him in the comforter.  It was a good thing he didn’t need to breathe because he was wrapped tight, allowing no room for the harmful rays of the sun to sneak inside.

She lifted him fireman-style over her shoulder and walked out the open door to the car, careful not to jar him too much and start his wound bleeding again.  When he was tucked inside, she shut the car door and hurried around to the other side. 

‘This is going to be an adventure,’  she thought as she slipped behind the steering wheel and started the engine.  She wasn’t the best driver in the world…who was she kidding?  She was the worst.  But, they need to get away from there as quickly as possible.  They couldn’t wait for nightfall to come so that Spike…shoot, she wasn’t even sure IF Spike could drive.  It was up to her to get some distance between them and their old motel room. 

She wondered how the Order had found them.  Swinging onto the road, she gunned the Desoto.  It was amazing what she could do when she put her mind to it.  She hadn’t panicked and now seemed to be doing fairly well with this whole driving thing.

Driving.

Desoto.

Spike’s Desoto.

They needed to ditch the car.  Crap.  That wasn’t going to make Spike too happy.

Chapter 6

Stealing a car was never an easy thing.  Doing it in broad daylight was damn near impossible.  She needed to find something that would provide decent cover for Spike during the day, but still be manageable for her to drive.  Campers and RV’s were out.  She’d settle on a pickup truck, but it would need to have a bedcover in order to be feasible.

Driving Spike’s Desoto with its blackened out windows was sure to draw attention, especially driving it through suburban Phoenix.  But, she needed to find a car, and damn soon. 

She drove around a corner and it seemed as if the fates were smiling down on her.  She pulled over as she watch a woman get out of her idling SUV she had parked at the curb to dart back inside her house.  It was now or never. 

Leaving the Desoto running, she slipped out of the driver’s seat and raced to the woman's SUV.  Two seconds later, she calmly slipped behind the wheel and drove the car a few blocks over.  She cut off the engine and grabbed the keys before racing back to where she had left a wounded Spike bundled up in a comforter inside his car.

Fifteen minutes later, Buffy was driving on the interstate out of town after a brief stop to change the license plates with another vehicle.  She was getting pretty good at this.  She just prayed Spike didn’t kill her when he realized she’d ditched his car.  In his current condition, it didn’t seem like a possible notion…which reminded her.  She was going to have to stop soon to see to his injuries.

She finally stopped in Tucson, Arizona.  She would have driven further, tried to put more distance between them and their last known location, but she was deeply worried about Spike.  She was going to need him to help find the Order, and she’d come to rely on his presence of the last couple of days.

She pulled the stolen SUV into a “mom and pop” motel and went to secure a room.  She chose one as far away from prying eyes as possible.  They’d probably think it was strange for a girl to be hauling a rolled up comforter over her shoulder, especially given her new “Goth” look.  Something of which she’d almost forgotten about.  But, the wary looks the older woman had thrown her way quickly reminded her. 

She grabbed all of their belongings and deposited them in the room before going back to get Spike.  As she hoisted him onto her shoulder, she heard him let out a muffled groan.  She was torn between going slow and prolonging his agony, or just hurrying and getting it over with.  In the end, she just hurried.

She eased the rolled up vampire off of her shoulder and onto the single queen-sized bed.  Buffy didn’t see the point in getting two since they’d never used the second one anyway. Besides, it had saved them ten bucks. 

When she got a look at the comforter, she let out a gasp.  The thing was covered in blood.  Her hands worked frantically to uncoil Spike, and she could feel tears well up in her eyes once he was finally exposed to her. 

His face was unusually pale, as if all of his blood had just seeped out of him.  His face, arms, and torso still bore the signs of the holy water he’d been sprayed with, the red angry welts stood out in stark contrast to his alabaster skin.  He lay deathly still on the bed and Buffy was at a loss as to what she should do. 

She knew he needed blood to heal, but she just didn’t see herself scouring about for his next meal.  She hadn’t said a word when he left last night, but actively seeking a body for him to drain went against her moral code.

Climbing up onto the bed, she tried to shake him awake.

“Spike?  Spike?  Wake up!” she practically yelled as she shook him.

Nothing.

“Come on, Spike.  Walk up, dammit!  You can’t die on me… I need your help!”  Tears were starting to slip silently from her eyes in twin tracks down her cheeks as she straddled his waist.

“If you don’t help me… I can’t do this on my own…Spike!  Wake up!”  Her voice rose frantically; she was shaking him so hard and he wasn’t budging, and she feared that he was dead, and she was going to have to do this alone.

Then, his eyelids flew open and he pinned her with his amber stare moments before he vamped and attacked.

He bolted upright, one hand instinctively going to her hair to pull her head to the side, the other moving her black t-shirt out of his way.  Then he struck, his fangs sinking deep into her neck, practically purring his pleasure as her healing blood flooded his mouth and slid down his throat.

His eyes closed, and he gave himself up to the ambrosia that was her slayer’s blood.  He pulled her close, the apex of her thighs nestled over his hardened length so that he could feel the heat radiating from her core.  Spike inhaled the scent of her arousal.  It, combined with the scent of her blood on the air, were slowing driving him to the breaking point.

“Spike,” she whispered, as she tried to clamor closer to his body.  His fangs had stung when they first pierced her flesh, but right now, as he pulled her blood into his mouth…she could feel it deep within her core.  A steady throbbing that increased the more he drank.  It was sensuous.  Wicked.  And, oh God!  It felt so good.

Then her body started relaxing as the blood loss started to get to her.  Arms that had been holding him close, relaxed and lay limp at her side.  Her head fell back and her eyes started to roll back just before her eyelids descended.

Through the haze of his bloodlust and desire, Spike realized that Buffy was no longer holding him tight and lay limp in his arms.  He abruptly released her neck, his human mask returning as his gaze raked her features.

“Slayer?” he called softly as he lifted her lax body close to his.  “Pet?  Are you ok?”

One hand lifted to smooth her dark hair back from her face.  Her eyelids fluttered, and Spike found himself heaving a sigh of relief.

“Come on, luv.  Wake up.”

Her eyelids finally lifted and blue eyes locked with hazel.

“All better?” she asked with a slur in her voice, the recent blood loss weighing her limbs down so that she started to sag against him. The slight smile that played about her lips gave her an almost drunk appearance. 

“Uh huh…Big Bad’s all better.”

“Good,” she whispered before she fell forward onto his chest as sleep overcame her.

Spike held her close as he leaned back against the pillows.  His feelings for this slip of a girl had changed over the last couple of days.  They were bound, the slayer and the vampire.  Destined to travel together to fight for their survival.  Both stricken by tragedy yet determined to persevere.  They made a good team.  And, as he held her close listening to her steady heartbeat, he vowed silently that nothing would ever take her from him.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike woke first, the slayer’s body still sprawled out on top of his bare chest.  The gaping hole in his torso had closed over, thanks to the swift healing properties of her blood.  His eyes gazed down at her still form as she slept.  Her warm breath skated over his bare chest as she exhaled, the soft currents wafted over his skin and skimmed across his bare nipple, causing it to harden in response.

As he reclined back against the pillows, one hand slowly stroking her hair, he marveled at how much their relationship had changed over the last few days.  No longer were they determined to kill each other.  Instead, they now guarded each other’s back as if they had been doing it for centuries.

He felt her stir in his arms and he waited until the last vestiges of sleep subsided and she lifted her head from his chest.

“Hi,” she whispered shyly, still not completely recovered from the recent blood loss.

“Hey yourself, pet.  How you feel?”

“Tired…but I’ll be ok. How do you feel?  All healed up?”  As she asked this, her eyes drifted down to the scar decorating his chest where the stake had once pierced his flesh.  Her hand ran over the mark, amazed at how quickly he’d healed.

“Wow!  You heal almost faster than I do,” she murmured amazed.

Spike’s eyes closed as her fingers continued to trail across his chest. 

‘She doesn’t even know what she’s doing to me.’  He needed to distract her, had to get his mind back on developing a plan of action.  But, her hands…oh God, her hands were driving him crazy.

Buffy gazed down at her hand as it roved over Spike’s chest.  She was amazed at the coolness of his flesh beneath her hands, in awe at the smoothness of his pale skin as her fingers continued to caress him.  She never knew that his duster concealed such a wonderful specimen beneath that leather…not that she’d seen enough to judge.  But, his lean frame was comprised of sleek muscle and Buffy couldn’t seem to take her eyes or hands away from it.

Spike’s eyes popped open as her hands continued to explore his chest.  When they started a downward path over the hills and valleys of his six-pack abs, he couldn’t prevent the growl that erupted from the back of his throat.  Her hand stilled at the sound, and her head lifted to gaze at his face.

She started to remove her hand, unsure as to why he was suddenly growling at her, but he moved like lightning and gripped her wrist in his hand, holding it in place on his stomach.

“I…I,” she stammered.

“No…don’t stop,” he whispered, slowly releasing his hold on her wrist.

“I…I don’t know what to do…” her voice trailed off in embarrassment.

His hand reached up and tucked a stray lock of her jet-black hair behind her ear.  As his fingers trailed along her jaw, her lips parted in surprise at his gentleness.  She leaned in to his caress, and moments later, she felt his other hand come up to cup the other side of her jaw slowly urging her lips down to his.

He brushed his lips back and forth across her parted lips, feeling the softness of her lips beneath his. Then his tongue darted out to lick a path around her open mouth.  A groan sounded in her ears, and she was surprised to realize that it came from her.  If he had been hurried in his quest to take her mouth, she might have resisted.  But, as his lips sucked and nipped lightly at her like he had all the time in the world, she was helpless to do anything more than lean into him and beg for more.

Finally his mouth settled over hers, and she practically screamed with delight as his tongued delved within the recess of her mouth to lightly duel with hers.  Back and forth, his tongue slipped along hers, the slow in and out motion a perfect imitation of what he’d like to be doing with his body.  Yet, he seemed in no hurry to move forward…seemed content to just hold her face within his hands as his tongue worked its delicious magic.

Just when Buffy didn’t think she could stand it anymore, his mouth left hers to nibble lightly along her jaw to the ear he had exposed as he’d tucked her hair behind it.  She felt his tongue circle the outer shell before his lips closed over the lower earlobe, his blunt teeth nibbling lightly on her flesh.  She didn’t know how she had managed to hold herself lifted from his body the entire time he had been kissing her, but as his tongue started worrying the silver stud in her ear, the strength in her arms gave out and she collapsed on top of him.

Spike groaned as the hardened pebbles of her nipples ground into his chest.  The rumbling of his mouth caused an answering shiver to course through her body.  Needing to feel her body flush against his, he rolled them so that she lay on her back with him nestled between her parted legs.  His mouth finally left her ear to nibble his way down the long expanse of her neck.

When he reached the bite mark he had left on her neck, he bit down hard and was pleased when her body arched into his.  The heady scent of her arousal was playing havoc with his control, but he quickly reigned in his lust, determined to make this first experience good for her.

His mouth was eager to continue its downward trek along her body, but her shirt was providing an unwanted barrier.  Rising to his knees between her legs, Spike pulled her to a sitting position and in one quick motion had her t-shirt pulled up her body and over her head.

Her hands automatically moved to cover herself as her bra-clad chest was exposed to his gaze.  His hands gently eased her back against the pillows even as they pulled her arms away from her chest.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes flicking momentarily to amber as he gazed down at her perfection.

She blushed slightly at his words but made no move to cover herself.

His body settled back over the top of hers, his mouth eager to taste the parts of her body lay bare to his gaze.  He felt how stiff the slayer was beneath him, and he took his time – his tongue and lips cascading over her body until he felt her relax once more.

Spike tasted every exposed inch of her body.  His blue eyes turned almost black as he watched the slayer writhe beneath him.  A flick of his wrist and a quick tug, and her jeans soon followed the path of her shirt, leaving her clad in only a matching bra and panty ensemble. Then those, too, seemed to fall away, leaving her naked to his gaze.  He stood and quickly stripped out of his clothes before making his way back on the bed to stretch out alongside her.

His fingers skimmed along her naked form, delighting in the warmth of her body beneath his fingertips.  His hands and mouth worked their magic until she lay writhing next to him.  He moved to settle himself between her parted legs, groaning at the contact their bare skin finally touching: hers warm, his a little less so.  Then, he was filling her body as she seemed to fill his thoughts and together they began their dance as old as time itself.

The two held each other tightly as they lay replete in each other’s arms, each struggling to put in words all that had just transpired.  The only sound that broke the silence was their heavy breathing as they slowly recovered.  Spike couldn’t seem to stop touching her, his hand running idly down her hair and along the curve of her back as she lay tucked against his side. 

“Slayer?” he called softly in the dark.

“Hmmmm?” she mumbled, the sound more of a hum in her throat than an actual word that left her lips.  She was so relaxed she didn’t even object to the “name” he had called her.  Shoot, she doubted he even knew her name.

“We should think about getting out of here.  We need to stay on the move so the Order can’t track us.  How long have we been here anyway? I was a little out of it when I was dragged in here.”

“What time is it?” she asked as she tried to push off from his chest and rise.

Spike felt her rise as she tried to see over him to the clock on the bedside table.  He turned to the side and read the digital display to her.

“Eight o’clock.”  Apparently, he’d slept longer than normal as his body repaired itself from its last attack.

“Oh, ok.  Look, uh… Spike…I got to tell you something,” she began as she sat up clutching the cover to her chest as she looked down at him.

‘That doesn’t sound good,’ he thought.  He quirked his brow at her, waiting.

“Well…you see…uh…I figured out why the Order was able to track us so quickly.  And…uh…well…”

“It can’t be as bad as all that, slayer.  Spit it out already.”

“I ditched the Desoto.” 

Bloody hell!

The silence was deafening as she waited for him to explode.  Instinctively, she cringed, waiting for him to blast her with “bloody hell’s” and “sod it all’s.”

‘My poor baby,’  he thought, then sighed.  She was right.  His car had stuck out like a sore thumb, providing an easy target for them to track.

“So, tell me, slayer…how in the bloody hell did we get here?”

“I stole a car.”

“You nicked a car?!” he exclaimed, incredulous.  She just nodded, blushing slightly.

“I don’t believe it!  The bloody slayer nicked a car!”  A wide grin split his face as he looked up at the girl staring down at him.  She gave him a tentative smile in return.

“What kind of car?  How did you get it?  You have to give me the whole story!”

“Well, it was just parked at the curb.  The woman left it running and went inside, so I jumped out and drove it around the block.  Then, I ran back to the Desoto…easy.  We’re now the proud owner of a SUV.  I even stole a new set of license plates to put on it.”

Spike just stared at her, feeling somewhat foolish because he felt so proud of her recent criminal activities. 

“Bloody marvelous,” he murmured as he sat up in bed.  His hand slipped around the back of her neck, and he hauled her close for a lip-bruising kiss.  He felt her melt into him, her hands coming up to rest against his chest.  As quick as it began, it was over.  Spike released her mouth, lifting his head to gaze down at her upturned face.

“Come on, pet.  Let’s get dressed and get outta here.  We don’t want a repeat performance of earlier today.”

Her eyelids fluttered open.  Silently, she nodded at him.  Buffy stood up, allowing the cover to fall back to the bed.  She quickly gathered the clothes she had been wearing earlier and high-tailed it to the bathroom.

Spike watched her disappear from sight.  He stood and quickly dressed, gathering their things together while Buffy got dressed.  A few minutes later, they were back in the SUV and driving off into the darkness.

Chapter 7

“What can you tell me about the Order?” Buffy asked several hours later as Spike drove along the nearly deserted highway.

“Assassins.  Deadly.  Human and demon, alike.”

“Anything else?  Giles…” she broke off as she thought about her watcher back in Sunnydale.  Shaking her head at the girl she had left behind, her voice hardened as she continued.

“Giles said they date back to the times of King Solomon.”

“That sounds about right.”

“Do you know where they’re based, how you get in contact with them?”

“No, Dru…Dru was the one that knew how to initiate the contract.” he answered.  “But, I bet you I know who would.”

“Who?”

“Your Council of Wankers.”  He took his eyes off the road to glance over at her.

She was watching him.  He could practically see the wheels turning in her head as she attempted to decide on a course of action.

“I guess we’re going to England,” she said finally.  “Where’s the nearest airport?  No sense driving when we could be flying.”

“Just saw a sign that said El Paso was about 50 miles away.  I guess they’d have an airport there.”

“Ok.”

Her eyes turned to the darkened scenery.  She leaned her head against the window and attempted to get some rest.  She needed to stay sharp if she was going to watch his back during the daylight hours.

~*~*~*~*~

It seemed only moments later that she was being shaken awake by Spike.  Her head jerked away from the glass, and she rubbed her neck, figuring that she was probably going to have a stiff neck from sleeping in that position.

“Where are we?” she asked sleepily.

“El Paso.  I just wanted to wake you so you wouldn’t wonder where I was in case you woke alone.”

“Where are you going?”  At his pointed look, she just stared at him before her eyes dropped to her lap.

“Oh…”

“I’ll be back, pet.”

She bit her tongue as he let himself out of the vehicle.  He needed to feed.  She would have offered, but she needed her wits about her – her eyes and ears attuned for the assassins that had been dogging their heels.

Instead, she watched as he ambled towards the biker bar situated in a rough part of town.  No wonder he had wanted to wake her; they were “slumming it.”  It was a good thing he parked far enough away so as to not draw attention to their vehicle, or more importantly…Buffy sitting inside said vehicle.  Spike quickly disappeared from view, and she leaned her head back against the rest while she waited for him to return. 

The pounding on the driver’s side window startled her from her silent musings.  She glanced over, expecting to see a cop.  No…no cop.  Just two big, burley guys bent on a little destruction…and possibly a little car theft.

‘Sorry, guys.  This one’s mine,’  she thought as she watched one of the two slowly circle around to her side.  ‘I worked hard to steal my first car.  No one’s gonna steal from this stealer.’

She waited until the guy was close enough to catch the backlash from the door, then she struck.  As the guy drew near, she opened the door.  When he was close enough, she leaned back and planted both feet on the door, using her slayer strength to slam it into the man.  He fell to the ground in a dazed heap allowing Buffy to jump out and confront him.  Her eyes never left the other guy who was quickly making his way around the car to join his friend.

“You guys picked the wrong car and the wrong girl to mess with.  I’ll go easy on you if you just leave…now.”  As she spoke, she settled into a defensive pose.  The second man came around and stopped by his friend, checking to see if he was ok.

“You’re gonna pay for that, bitch,” he snarled, raising the crowbar he held in his hands menacingly.

Buffy just rolled her eyes at him.  True he was human, which meant she couldn’t kill him, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t pound on him a little.  He was threatening her, after all. 

“I’d like to see you…” her voice trailed off.  ‘Oh shit,’  she thought moments before she heard the third guy strike.  The last thing Buffy saw before her world faded to black was the evil leer of the third man standing over her.

‘Spike…’

~*~

Spike knew something was wrong the moment he stepped out of rowdy bar.  His eyes zeroed in on the SUV and noticed the dome light on.  The faint traces of the slayer’s blood drifted back to him, and he took off running towards the car.

A growl erupted from his throat as he noticed three guys standing over her huddled body, each taking turns kicking her unmoving form.  As he neared, the vampire leapt at them, the force of his body sending all four of them to the ground.  Spike recovered quickly, rolling in a smooth motion and rising to his feet. 

He didn’t waste time…he was angry, and he allowed his rage free rein as he dealt with the slayer’s attackers.  His fangs sunk into the neck of the first opponent he grabbed.  The demon inside crowed over the squeals of fright that burst forth from his lips before drifting off as his life’s blood was quickly drained.  The other two stared in horror at the monster before them, frozen and unable to move.

Spike lifted his fangs from the first man’s neck and let him fall limply to the ground by his feet.  His amber gaze pinned the remaining two in place as he slowly advanced on them.  They gazed in horrified fascination at the blood dripping from the monster’s elongated teeth.  It was the last thing the two saw.  Suddenly, Spike was upon them, attacking with fists and fangs the two that had dared to touch his slayer.

He left them where they lay, striding quickly to the huddled form of the slayer. Carefully, he lifted her in his arms, willing her to wake up and look at him.  He silently berated himself for leaving her as his yellowed eyes took in the bruises marring her features.

The uneasy moan that rumbled from her lips was the sweetest sound he had ever heard and he watched as her lids fluttered before finally lifting.  A tremulous smile graced her lips as she took in his demonic features, the blood of his recent kills still coating his lips.

She lifted her hand and cupped his cheek.

“You came,” she whispered.  Spike leaned into her touch, pulling her body closer to his.

“Come on, luv.  Let’s get out of here.”

He deposited her back in the SUV and circled around the back, climbing into the driver’s side.  Soon, they were at the airport buying tickets to London.

~*~*~*~*~

They were somewhere over the Atlantic, or at least that’s what Buffy figured.  They’d caught the first flight out of El Paso.  After a brief layover in Chicago, which proved interesting with the whole daylight situation, they boarded their flight to London. 

She’d lost all track of time, the constant time zone changed were playing hell with her body’s internal clock.  All she knew was that she would be landing in London at 2a.m., and she vowed that she would sleep for 24 hours straight before making a move on the Council.  And, there was the whole issue of finding a place for Angel.

Sensing her unease, Spike pulled the slayer close, trying to offer what meager comfort he could.  Buffy sighed, settling herself deeper into his side as his arms closed around her.  She closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy woke to the sound of the captain’s voice droning over the intercom about final approach.  Beside her, she felt Spike stir, felt the light kiss he dropped on her head as he sat up.  Another twenty minutes and Buffy was standing on foreign soil for the first time in her life.  Spike slipped his hand in hers and together they made their way towards customs – their matching duffle bags slung over their shoulder.

~*~

Customs was fairly easy to move through.  Since they only had the one bag, and the agent was exceedingly tired, they didn’t bother to do a thorough examination of their bags…Spike’s evil scowl probably had a lot to do with it as well. 

They hadn’t bothered with weapons, figuring they could raid the Council’s headquarters once they got to London.  She’d heard often enough about the Watcher’s Council as Giles rambled on about something or another, and Buffy was eager to see what all the hubbub was all about. 

Now that they were on foreign soil, a new adventure was about to begin for her and Spike.  She’d come to rely heavily on the vampire, and secretly, she believed he felt the same way.  They just had one more thing to do before they could embark on their new life.  It was time to lay old ghosts to rest.

~*~*~*~*~

They made a striking pair as they walked side by side, each carrying a small box in their hands.  The nuns at the Sisters of Mercy Convent paused to stare at the figures whose solemn features were in sharp contrast to their gothic appearance.  The male, his shocking white hair standing on end, was attired head to toe in black.  His counterpart, her severe black hair framing a pale face, was also dressed all in black.  But, it was their eyes that held the nuns motionless.

Such pain they bore.

Suddenly the woman stopped walking, pausing in front of a statue of the Virgin Mary that was surrounded by a small garden of flowers.  The man came to stand beside her, nodding at something she said.

The nuns were openly gawking now, making no pretense of hurrying about their duties. 

The Mother Superior was walking down the hallway and decided to take a stroll through the open courtyard.  She noticed several of the nuns standing still, as if they were intent on watching something.  She stepped out through the open double doors and looked around. 

She noticed the black-clad couple standing by the Virgin Mary statue and made her way over to them.  It wasn’t often they had visitors to their convent, and none such as these.  She clucked at the gaping nuns and shooed them back to their chores.

“Hello, my children.  It’s a beautiful evening, is it not?”

Buffy glanced up at the nun.

“Yes.”

“Is there something I can help you with?  The sun has gone down and it’s time for us to close the gates for the evening.”

“We’ll just be a moment.  We just want to say our goodbyes.”

“Good…ah, yes.  Of course,” the Mother Superior replied as she noticed the boxes the two were carrying.  “Take your time.  I always thought this was the loveliest spot in our courtyard.  It gets the morning sun and just seems to make our Mary shine with welcome.”

Buffy just nodded, not saying anything.  Beside her, Spike didn’t move, just stared at the box in his hands then at the ground below them.

“Yes…well… I’ll leave you two alone now.  Just shut the gate as you leave.”

Again, Buffy just nodded, the nun already forgotten.

“Spike?”

“Yeah, pet?”

“Will he be happy here?  With Dru, I mean?”

“Yeah, pet.  I think he will.  I knew he regretted turning her once he got his soul.  This way, he can be with her, ya know.  Look out for her…I think she would have liked that, knowing her sire was with her at the end.”

A few moments later he opened the box, scattering his sire’s ashes amongst the flowerbed at the statue’s feet.  Buffy copied his movements, releasing the dust that was all that remained of Angel to lie mingled with his childe. 

When they were finished, the two left the containers by the flowerbed and left. 

It was time for the two to begin a new life, one that involved dealing with the Order of Taraka.  No matter how long it took, they were going to pay.

Buffy and Spike demanded it.

The End