CHAPTER 6


The factory rang with her cries of anguish. The Anointed One signalled to his minions to help her, distract her……..to just shut her up. A multitude of vampires rushed to her side but she keened on. “My sweet Willie……….he’s lost in her, drowning…..come to me my love; she’ll be your death in a burst of sunlight.”



The small boy with the large power spoke to his chief minion and instructed him to find the cause of her distress and bring him to them. Anything to stop her whining. It was grating on his nerves and besides…..the cartoons were on.



+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++



Buffy followed Spite into her bedroom, leaning against the door to shut it. He paced, hands and arms flailing before he started to pat himself down for his smokes. “I don’t see my mom as being the kind that allows smoking in the house, Spite.”



He stopped, looking down and away from her, shoulders slumped. “No. You’re probably right. Allows smoking flesh though.”



Buffy cringed at his words. According to Giles, she killed creatures such as Spite every day; it was her sacred duty. But the thought of harming him, the fact that he had been in pain, cut her through. “Let me see.” She moved towards him, taking his damaged hand in hers. It was already healing, nothing more than reddened marks now where the blisters had been.



“Big baby! There’s nothing there!” Her words were light, meant to raise the mood and he played along although his feelings were in turmoil. He didn’t know what to think any more. Were the two of them natural enemies? But if that was true, why did he need to keep touching her, assuring himself that she was there? Was he really sizing her up for the kill?



“Buffy. Love. We have to talk this through.”



“I know. I’m just afraid of what it all means. Can’t we just run away? We don’t know these people after all, and they’d get over us. Would be easier.”



He longed to agree with her; but he felt strongly that Buffy would wither and die without the support of the people discussing them downstairs. They seemed pretty protective of her after all. “No, pet. We have to stay, work it out. Hey! How old are you anyway?”



“How should I know? Why?”



“Well, ‘s just – no offence, love but the things we did last night? Not sure you’re of an age to be thinkin’ of em, never mind puttin’ em into practice. And if they find out…….well, I’d like to keep my gonads intact to be honest.”



“But you’re a vampire. With the fangs? Couldn’t you, you know…….eat them?”



He grinned. Yeah, he could at that. Suddenly things were looking up. His smirk died as he caught Buffy looking at him, an odd smile playing about her lips and her eyes glassy. She moved closer to him until her breath was warming the skin of his neck. “Show me again” she whispered. He didn’t know what she meant at first, but slowly realised what she was asking.



“You sure love? Makes me kind of fierce and bad tempered to be honest?”



“Show me.” Her voice purred against his skin, her chest now pressed against her, her hands resting on his shoulders. He could hear the murmur of the discussion going on downstairs, and a part of him realised that it was odd for him to be able to do so. Another vampire trait no doubt for him to get used to. All such thoughts disappeared when he felt the sweep of her tongue up his throat and across his jaw. He surprised himself with the growl that built up in his chest.



“Go on………do it now…..”



He felt the pressure beneath his skin as his brow thickened to stand ridged, his eyesight sharpened so that everything seemed harsh and bright. He raised a finger to trace the fangs that thrust from his gums, nicking the pad and suckling the crimson fluid into his mouth, caressing the digit with his pointed tongue. He marvelled at the clarity of everything; the colours, the scents, the taste. If this was being a vampire, yes please – he’d sign on for that. Inhaling deeply, he sensed an appetising aroma that took him a moment to place. Arousal. Want. Need. Buffy.



Focusing on her, he noted her flushed face, the open mouth and quick tongue that moistened her dry lips. Her eyes were fixed on him. She wasn’t repulsed by this, hell it turned her on if the state of her knickers was anything to go by. What kind of a vampire slayer was she? She moved nearer to him, lips connecting softly, the tongue now sneaking out to taste him. Spite wrapped her in his arms pulling her hard against him, nudging at her knees to allow him to grind against her mound. Her kiss grew harder, hungrier, hands coming up to grip the curls at the base of his neck as she grew bolder. Hot tongue met cooler as they melted into each other, Buffy forgetting for a moment the sharp canines lurking in the recesses of his mouth. She jumped when her tongue sliced on a sharp edge; Spite’s cock hardened as he tasted the delicious tang of warm blood and he gripped her hips. This was what he lived for; instinctively he knew it. He sucked on her tongue, swallowing down the heated liquid, Buffy’s moans tangible evidence of her enjoyment.



He reached between them to pop the top button of her pants, snaking his hand inside the denim to tug at her curls. Buffy arched her back making it easier for him to reach her cleft and he delighted in the slick wetness of her as he ran his fingers over her clit. His lips left her mouth, kissing along her cheek, her jawline – down, down and along the throbbing jugular that called to him to pierce it, tear it, rip it open. He shifted his hand so that he could slip two fingers inside her, curling the tips in search of her pleasure centre. Buffy’s eyelids fluttered, helpless to do anything but give herself to her lover.



The slamming of a door downstairs jerked them back to reality, Buffy struggling to breathe as she tried to regain control of her body. “Not here…with them all downstairs.”



Spite nodded, still in game face. “Agreed, pet. Wanna get out of here?”



“God yes! But the sun…….”



“Don’t worry; don’t rightly think Mr Sunshine keeps me caged usually. Think I’m more likely to piss on him and be on my way. Must be ways round it; can’t see me cooling my heels when I’ve got things to do. Maybe the sewers, d’you think? Can’t get more dark and dismal than that. You got a thick blanket?”



“Ewww! Sewers! With the rats…….” Buffy sighed. They did have things to do……each other mostly. “Well, the coverlet off the bed’s thick; take that. No! Not the silk one, the one underneath. You want to go now?”



“No time like the present. And we do have unfinished business…….” Buffy rolled her eyes at the smirk on his now human face. “We taking the traditional route or the monkey way?”



She considered all the things that could go wrong with Spite slinking down the tree – sunlight, stray branch…..



“Traditional. But we’ll have to be quiet.”



“Ok. Lead on, Macduff!”



Buffy looked back over her shoulder as she made her way down the stairs. She didn’t have a clue what he’d just said, but she liked the voice he’d said it with. At the bottom of the stairs she stopped, finger on lips in the universal signal to button it. There was a heated discussion going on in the kitchen, voices loud enough to carry to the hallway. Perfect for their disappearing act.



“Ok….quickly now…..come on!”



Buffy opened the door, tensing at the possibility of squeaks, and gestured to Spite to go through. He hesitated; it was a nice theory but he really wasn’t sure whether the whole cover over head deal would work. He might just end up a big pile of dust under a 15.0-tog duvet. But the incentive was just now leaning out of the door with her pert butt wiggling, golden hair sweeping her shoulders. He shrugged. ‘We all have to go sometime……’ It was worth the risk.



In a blur of muffled curses as the quilt wrapped itself against his legs and threatened to have him sprawling full out beneath the fatal sun, Spite sprinted towards the sewer cover, Buffy close behind him. He was beginning to smoulder as Buffy struggled to gain purchase on the metal cover and was contemplating heading back to the house; eventually the cover gave and he dived head first into the hole trusting himself to be agile enough to land in one piece. Buffy clambered down the ladders, pulling the cover back into place above them. She couldn’t see a thing in the darkness and she kicked herself that she hadn’t brought a flashlight. Spite, however, didn’t seem to be having a problem. She saw the flash of yellow demon eyes and hesitated as he reached for her hand; this was all too weird. Yesterday she …………well, she had no idea what had happened yesterday but she felt sure it wasn’t spent walking through the sewers with a vampire you were desperate to climb up.



Her body took over and her fingers interlocked with his as he started forwards, the water swishing round their feet. “Spite? Where are we going?” she hissed



“Dunno, pet. But I don’t reckon there’s any harm in investigating. Gets us out of the way of the babbling idiots back at your place.”



Buffy punched him lightly. She agreed, but felt a need to show a token defence of her friends and her mom. They walked in silence other than the splashing, Buffy feeling strangely happy even though she was gagging on the stench from the water they were wading through. The feel of his cool fingers gripping hers reassured her that no matter what happened she wouldn’t come to any harm. They even started chatting, light nonsense about this and that. It was nice, pleasant. Odd. Gradually her eyes became accustomed to the darkness and she started to see her surroundings, fuzzy but enough to get by. Certainly she could see his eyes when she kept being drawn to look at him.



Spite stopped dead, Buffy running into his back, as the vampire heard noises that Buffy didn’t from further into the tunnels. What to do…..



Suddenly there was no choice but to fight, instinct overtaking Buffy’s initial uncertainty as they were faced with at least ten vampire henchmen. The fighting was fierce and swift, Buffy dusting one after the other with the stake she’d found in her jacket pocket. She was a vision – somersaulting, twirling, always hitting the mark. Spite stood and watched her for a while, mouth open in amazement. She made the fight look like a dance, glorious and effervescent, breathtaking in its ferocity. One of the four remaining vampires turned to him as he stood off to one side, speaking for a moment before Spite noticed so intent was he on watching Buffy’s moves.



“What’s your damage, Spike? We’ve come to fetch you home. Dru’s been real worried.”



“What?”



The vampire opened his mouth to reply, bursting into a haze of dust as Buffy’s stake hit its target once more.



Spite stayed her hand as she was about to stake her last prey. “Wait, love.” Buffy stopped the descent of the stake just short of the vampire. “What did the other say, earlier? You know me?”



The vampire cowered against the wall, hands clasped protectively about his chest, eyes never leaving the lethal point of the wooden weapon gripped in the petite blonde’s fist. “Yes. You’re Spike. I’m of your clan, your get; well yours and Dru’s.”



“Who’s Dru?” Buffy’s voice sounded petulant even to her ears.



The vampire spoke to Spike. “Dru’s your sire, man. Your mate.”



Spike’s next question died on his lips as Buffy unerringly sent the stake thudding into the vampire’s heart and burying itself in the wall behind him.



“Not too helpful, Buffy. I was gonna ask him about this Dru, me, where to find their den.”



“I don’t want to hear anything else about ‘Dru.’ And what kind of a name is that anyway? And Spike? That’s your name?”



“Seems like, pet. Weren’t too far off the mark with our impromptu naming were we?” Her pout was adorable. She looked very much the sulking teenager she was, arms folded across her chest, brow creased by a frown.



“C’mere. Look…the vamp could be wrong. I know we’re together, can feel it here, yeah?” He spread his hand over his heart as he spoke. She looked at him, looked away immediately head held high. Her bottom lip was trembling with the effort not to cry. She had no memory before waking up next to him in the cemetery, but hearing that he wasn’t really hers……it hurt, it really hurt.



Cool arms snaked around her middle, his chin resting on her shoulder from behind as he placed a kiss on her earlobe.



“Buffy. I don’t care about Dru, whoever she is. I know you’re mine. You always will be. Don’t matter if I get my memory back or not…you’ll always be my girl.”



Buffy turned in his embrace, eyes bright with unshed tears. “You mean it? You won’t leave me?”



Spike cupped her jaw in his hands, eyes boring into hers. “I will never leave you. You got me for life, kitten. Longer.” He smiled, a lopsided smile that melted her insides to goo and coaxed an answering grin from her. “Really?”



Spike didn’t answer, he simply moved to kiss her, to convince her with his actions that he spoke the truth. Buffy’s arms came round to caress the back of his neck, fingers tangling in the springy curls she found there. It was rapidly becoming her favourite place to touch. She felt his arms wrap tighter crushing her against him. Their surroundings were forgotten as cool tongue met warmer, twisting and delving deeper into each other’s mouths. Buffy nibbled on his bottom lip, delighting in the taste and texture of his flesh and almost swooning as he mirrored her actions on her own kiss-swollen pout. Soon she found herself with her back pressed up against the cold and damp wall of the sewer as Spike’s hands roamed over her body. Her senses were aflame, his kiss both raising goosebumps and warm flushes equally along her skin. Her heart thudded in her chest and she could feel the rush of blood in her veins, the flood of moisture that was building in her crotch. A moan of pleasure escaped her lips and he chuckled against her mouth. This was definitely something he wanted to keep on doing – so Dru or no Dru, he was right where he wanted to be and wasn’t going anywhere.



Icy lips hovered over her throbbing veins, teeth nipping down along her collarbone and below. Buffy’s head was thrown back, eyelids fluttering as waves of pleasure washed over her. Somewhere in the back of her mind she realised that she was baring her neck to a vampire, and memory or not she knew this wasn’t really the smart thing to do. It was a pleasurable thing though, the way his tongue snaked out to lick along her flesh and trace the pulsing to the base of her throat where it beat steadily and with increasing urgency. She was scrabbling at his coat with eager fingers, pushing the soft leather off his shoulders in her haste to get to his naked body.



It didn’t matter that the mood music was the steady drip of filthy water; it didn’t matter that the wall was moist with fungus and the stench less than pleasant. All that mattered was the feel of his lips, his tongue, his hands. The sensation of his erect cock pressing against her mound where he’d nudged her legs apart and was rocking against her. The acute yearning that flooded her and demanded satisfaction.



Her eyes widened as he suckled at the sensitive spot on her neck over her jugular. She could feel him dragging the blood to the surface of her skin, thrilled with the naïve pleasure of a young girl that he would leave a mark on her, identify her as his property. Every drag against her neck built up ripples of sensation deep in her womb and she was helpless to do anything but to thrust back at him. She almost passed out when he growled against her throat.



Spike was in trouble. He had no recall of being a vampire but the primal urge to take her blood was overwhelming. His struggle last night to stop himself from ripping into her with his teeth now made more sense. It was what he did. He didn’t want to hurt her though and was fighting the demon for mastery. The taste of her had him rock hard and desperate to bury himself inside her heat and as he focused on her scent he felt his face begin to change, his fangs lengthen. He was losing control; it would take hardly anything to send him over the edge.



Buffy bit down on his neck.



He was lost. Fully vamped he gave in to his instincts; his rough tongue rasped at her flesh eliciting a whimper from her. He could feel the delicious resistance of her skin as it bent beneath the twin points of his fangs, continued to increase the pressure until the skin popped and the aroma of her blood washed over his senses and his tongue. He allowed his mouth to fill with the precious fluid before he swallowed it down reverently, pulling again at the wound in slow motion. After he’d swallowed a few mouthfuls he managed to rein in the demon somewhat and made to move away from her pulsing throat.



Buffy was having none of it. The penetration of his incisors kicked off an orgasm that fluttered along her passage, every drag of her blood into his mouth answered by a cascade of pleasure in her groin. He found his head gripped by her tiny hand where she refused to allow him to distance himself from her throat. The smell, the taste, the sight of her flushed face - Spike had to have her, had to bury his cock in her now.



Frantically, by unspoken agreement, they both reached for the other’s fly and made swift work of removing the barriers between them. Buffy shimmied her hips to get her jeans down her legs, thankful that she had on ankle boots that she could toe off and allow Spike to pull one leg down and off the end of her foot. She’d unzipped his jeans and pushed them down his thighs sufficiently to allow his cock to spring free, wasting no time in wrapping her fist around it and stroking him to painful hardness. Her hand was swatted away by him once he’d finished with her jeans and she found herself shoved up roughly against the wall as he dragged her panties aside and gripped one knee to wrap it around his hip. She was soaking wet, ready for him and he thrust his cock all the way inside her before stilling both between her legs and at her throat.



“God, Spike!” she mouthed, more a moan than anything else. Spike bucked his hips forwards, one hand beneath her butt, the other wrapped with her golden hair as he kept it out of the way of his hungry mouth suckling at her blood. Her other leg came up to wrap around him so that she was pinned against the wall where his cock entered her and balanced along his body. Spike’s fingers were kneading at her flesh, almost painfully, the rhythm he was building betraying the movement he wanted to make where they were joined. Buffy thrust back at him, using the leverage of her shoulders against the wall to gain more purchase for the movement. The angle brought his pelvic bone right in line with her clit and her senses sizzled as Spike’s momentum grew. He was nearing explosion, ripping his fangs from her neck and licking the wound roughly as he growled against her skin. She felt him shake as his legs started to give way beneath him and climbed up him to grip onto a pipe she’d spotted above her head, hanging there, still joined to him at the groin. Spike looked up at her with his amber eyes, his hands now cupping her hips and his legs splayed a little to get a better angle for their frenzied rutting. Buffy’s head was butting the pipe with each thrust but she didn’t care. The mix of pain and pleasure was in itself intoxicating and when she felt blood from his bite mark trickle down her breastbone and pool stickily in her bra she moaned again, her entire body electrified with the myriad of sensations she was experiencing.



She heard Spike inhale deeply, felt one hand leave her hip, then her shirt was ripped open, bra shredded by his steely fingers before his cool, rough tongue cleaned her breast of the precious fluid he craved. She shivered when he swirled around her nipple, sucking it into his mouth and grazing it with his fangs. Buffy felt rather than heard his request as it rumbled against her chest, finally giving in to the orgasm that had been building for what seemed hours at his words.



“Come for me.”



Her legs clamped tight around him drawing him nearer to her as her pussy rippled around him. He couldn’t help himself; her breast was all luscious and warm and right beneath his lips. When he felt the inevitability of his ejaculation he buried his fangs once more in her flesh and drew more of her aromatic blood down his throat.



Buffy screamed from the pain of his bite but that passed quickly to leave her shaking with the force of another orgasm that rocketed through her leaving her limp and exhausted. Her limbs were shaking, her grip on the pipe failing so that she slid down the wall and into the waiting arms of her equally boneless lover.



He was still in full demon face, too many emotions racing through him to deal with the battle it would take to lose it. He’d tasted her blood, marked her as his……..bloody hell! Somehow that phrase seemed important, some wispy memory trickling into his brain from times past…..



Gently, he lowered Buffy to the ground moving to wrap his arms around her and settle her head on his chest while he composed himself. That was one hell of a knee trembler. Bloke ‘d be mad to give that up, no matter what had happened in the past.



“You alright, pet?” he whispered softly against her hair, concerned that she was shaking. Had he hurt her? Was she still bleeding? Suddenly panicked, he pushed her away from him moving her hair so that he could check the puncture wounds on her neck, her breast. The marks were puckered but healing, nothing more than clear plasma oozing from the holes. He looked up to meet her eyes and found them soft and focused on him. Buffy nodded, managed to whisper “I’m fine” as if the beaming smile that now graced her face didn’t already tell him that.



Spike found himself smiling in return. He chuckled as he swept his gaze down her bare body. “Looks like we killed your clothes, love. Here, take my shirt, least your jeans are still serviceable.” Buffy suddenly recalled the desperate clawing at her top, her bra and instinctively covered herself up with her hands. “Bit late for that don’t you think?” Spike mock growled, instantly regretting it as her brow furrowed. Time seemed to stop until Buffy’s tense shoulders relaxed and she looked up at him shyly, hands dropping to her sides. “Yeah, pretty much. So, do I get the shirt or what?” Her smile dazzled him once more and he wasted no time in shucking off his tee and helping her put it on. Not too bad a fit, in fact it clung to her bare breasts deliciously. Buffy glanced down to find out what was poking her in the hip.



“Hey! I’m not a robot you know, give a girl a breather. Is this……….normal? The recovery time thing? It’s just….I thought….I’ve read….”



“Dunno. Could be a vamp thing.” Spike beamed with pride. “Could just be me…..”



Buffy rolled her eyes at him. “Ego much? Come on then, stallion, let’s go and do some digging about and maybe later I’ll take you for another ride.”



A snort from the vampire.



“Do you think it’s dark yet, ‘cause I don’t want you crispy-fried?”



Spike closed his eyes, accessing senses he didn’t know he had. “Nearly…….sun should be almost down. Shall we?”



Like a gallant gentleman, Spike offered her his arm. “Why, sir! But I hardly know you…”



“Yeah, right…..”



Giggles and soft laughter trailed them as they made their way through the sewer system, Spike just letting his nose lead him to an exit. Every few yards they found an excuse to stop and kiss, or stop and fondle, or a mix of both. As it was, it took them over an hour to walk not very far at all and Buffy was on the verge of pushing him to the ground and saddling him up when Spike nodded towards a set of ladders.



"Seems familiar, pet. Not sure why, but I think I’ve been here before.”


TBC
 

CHAPTER 7

Dishevelled, bruised and marked, Slayer and vampire exited the sewer system to find themselves back in the place they’d seen when they first woke. The cemetery. The sun had been down about half an hour and night sounds filled the air. Spike had lost his demon face as they came out of the sewer and the full moon bathed the tombstones. Buffy was smug with satisfaction, the smile on her face refusing to fade. Her nerve endings were almost numb so sated was she. She glanced down to their joined hands, Spike’s pale fingers, long and elegant with the incongruous black nail polish, wrapped around hers - smaller, stubbier, more golden. Just the sight of their entwined digits tugged a grin from her. She closed her eyes with pleasure as her free fingers ghosted over the twin fang holes at her neck. The flesh was sensitised and linked directly to her sex it seemed. Buffy’s mouth opened in an ‘o’ of pleasure drawing Spike’s attention.



“Pet?”



“What did you do to me?”



“Huh?”



“The bitey. It feels…….good…when I touch my neck. What’s going on?”



“What’r you asking me for? How the hell would I know if you don’t? No memory here, just instinct.” Spike grinned. “You like it though?”



Buffy tried to be stern and keep the answering grin from her face. She failed. “Yeah. Feels wonderful.”



They walked on for a few steps, eyes fixed on each other and not on their destination.



“Buffy!”



Slayer and vampire stopped dead at the surprised shout. Truth be told, they were both nervous, somehow the voice triggering recognition in both of them. Slowly, and in synch, they swivelled their eyes away from each other and forwards.



A dark haired man, tall and broad shouldered with deep brown eyes, stood in front of them. He didn’t look happy. Buffy tightened her grip on Spike’s hand.



The voice dropped lower, the menace in it easily apparent. “Buffy. Where have you……Spike?”



A glance between the lovers then Spike spoke.



“You know us?”



The only answer was a roar of rage before Spike found himself pinned to the floor and deflecting a meaty fist from connecting with his face. Instinct kicked in and he looked through golden eyes, shocked as he saw the eyes above him the same shade as his, the brow ridged and fangs bared in a snarl. He was being attached by another vampire.



“Get away from my boyfriend!”



Spike’s assailant went flying through the air as Buffy ripped him away from her downed lover. Guess the Slayer gig meant she was stronger than the average girl……



Buffy knelt on the ground next to Spike who raised himself up on his elbows. Both blonds were glaring at the crumpled heap across from them.



“Buffy? What the hell is going on here? What are you doing………and with him?”



She scooted nearer to Spike, unwilling to leave his side. “I’m sorry……..do I know you? And where do you get off beating up on us?”



“Us? There’s an us?” The angry vampire got to his feet and stalked towards them. Spike and Buffy jumped up, each battling with the other to push their lover behind them for protection.



“Look, mate. I don’t know who you are but you’ve bitten off more than you can chew, yeah? Why don’t you just lose the gnashers and toddle off home, leave me and my girl in peace.”



“Your girl?” The dark haired vampire threw himself across the gap that separated him from Spike, fists flying and teeth trying to rip chunks out of the smaller man. Buffy was shoved to one side and landed awkwardly against a tombstone, her gasp of pain distracting Spike momentarily and allowing a heavy fist to connect hard with his nose. He went down, stunned by the blow, nose streaming blood, his aggressor snarling and standing over him.



“Spike! Are you alright?”



“Peachy. Just this pillock to off and I’ll be perfect.”



She limped to his side, holding her back where she’d taken a huge bruise. The other vampire was standing and staring at them, fists clenched and mouth an ugly snarl.



“Get…away…from him.”



“What? Who are you to tell me what to do? Wait…….I think I have something for you….” Buffy reached into the pocket of Spike’s duster and pulled out the stake she’d slipped in there earlier, stalking towards the soon-to-be-dust vampire.



“Buffy! It’s me…..Angel. What’s wrong with you?”



“Wrong with me? You’re the one attacking couples in a graveyard.” Angel backed off, the tip of the stake far too close to his heart for his liking. What was going on?



“Buffy. There’s something wrong here. You must know me……..you…..love me.”



A blur of black leather and platinum blond hair shot past Buffy, and suddenly it was Angel on the receiving end of a flurry of fists and fangs. Spike was growling and spitting at him as he punched him to the floor, Buffy able to make out a few of his angry words.



“Not your…” Punch. “…sodding...” Punch. “…girl.” Punch, punch. “She bloody well….” Punch, kick. “loves me….” Head butt. “…you poncey bastard..”



Buffy was stunned. And secretly a little pleased. She was, after all, still a teenager and two hotties were duking it out for her favours. Kinda neat. But then…….no, not now with Spike bleeding from a cut on his cheek, not neat at all.



“Hey! Hey! Stop it……..NOW!” She managed to get between them and shove them away from each other. Definitely stronger than she should be, and that didn’t suck. Both vampires stood panting and glaring at each other, hands curled into fists and bouncing on their toes.



“Buffy. You can’t trust him. He’s a killer. Come to me now, I’ll protect you.”



“Do I look like I need protecting, and from him? Why would I? He’s my ….boyfriend. I have no idea who you are and to be honest I couldn’t care less. Now, for the last time… leave us alone and I’ll let you go. One time only deal.”



Angel didn’t move. Spike growled from behind her. “Ok, we’ll leave. Don’t even think about following us, ‘cause I’m pretty handy with these things, trust me.”



Turning on her heel, she grabbed Spike’s hand and started off away from the brooding figure of Angel. Spike was silent for a minute or two, but his grip was tight and his body tense. “Got something you wanna tell me, pet?”



“What? Angel? Well I don’t know him, do I? No more than you know Dru. And I did nearly stake him. I felt nothing for him, Spike. I was terrified he was hurting you but him? Would dust him in a heartbeat.”



Spike tugged on her hand, stopping and turning her into his embrace. “Yeah?”



“Yeah.”



“He seemed pretty sure you loved him.”



“Well, I don’t. I…..love you, you big dork.” She dipped her eyes, blushing. “It’s the one thing I do know. And you! Pretty sure of yourself weren’t you with the ‘she loves me’ thing.”



“Well…….yeah. Told you pet. Can feel you here.”



Buffy stood on tiptoes and kissed him softly, his features melting back into his human guise as her warmth flooded him. “Me too,” she whispered, nibbling on his bottom lip before sliding her tongue past his blunt teeth to tangle with his.



And that was when the world imploded………………….



+++++++++++++++++++++



Giles was rubbing the bridge of his nose, glasses held loosely between thumb and forefinger. These children would drive him into an early grave.



“Willow, it’s perfectly simple. You have to reverse the spell because it’s keyed to your essence. No matter how many times I read the words, it isn’t going to work. Just trust me. I won’t let anything go wrong. I know I said not to go anywhere near magic again but just this once. It’s necessary. Now, please………sit inside the circle.” Willow moved reluctantly to sit cross-legged inside the circle of salt Joyce had poured on the dining room floor, the table pushed to one side.



“Xander? The candle please. Careful! Don’t smudge the circle…….now, Willow, just concentrate on the photograph of Buffy and recite the words on the page.”



Willow cleared her throat. She was desperately nervous and her voice shook as she started speaking the words of the spell. Joyce anxiously hovered near the door, still shaken by the revelations of the last day – that the world was filled with vampires and slayers…no, slayer, singular – her daughter …….and now witches and magic spells. It didn’t seem real; but here she was waiting for a schoolgirl to chant some hocus pocus and bring her daughter’s memories and therefore her daughter back to her. And Mr Giles…. Rupert. He quite plainly wasn’t just the school librarian and now she looked at him, barking orders and expecting them to be obeyed without question, he seemed a little menacing. There was an underlying steel core to Rupert Giles, a dark past, she was sure of it. And the rebellious girl still tucked away inside her wanted to meet him. She shook her head, clearing it of her musings. Buffy. It was important to concentrate and bring Buffy back.



But she still kept Rupert in her line of vision…..



++++++++++++++++++++



What the fuck???



“Slayer!!”



“Vampire!!”



Two sets of wide eyes – one blue, one hazel – widened even further at the realisation that their lips were not the only things joined. Buffy guiltily dragged her hand from down the front of Spike’s pants, looking at it in absolute horror. Spike, despite the loathing he had for the Slayer, couldn’t hide a smirk. He was the Big Bad after all – very big by the looks of the impressive bulge that Buffy’s eyes just couldn’t seem to leave.



“Oh my god……oh my god…….oh my god…..”



“Right there with ya, pet. Gonna have to scrub ‘til I bleed to get the feel of your moist paws of me bollocks. And Dru will probably have me bathed in acid ‘fore she’ll come anywhere near me. Now, I’ll give you a head start before I kill you. And you’d better hope you get to the witch before I do.”



And still Buffy didn’t move.



“You remember? The spell……Willow…us…..and……OH MY GOD! ANGEL!! He knew both of us, Spike. I’ve got all my memories back now and nowhere do you fit into the jigsaw. What’s the sitch?”



“Yep, my sorry grandsire was mightily pissed off. Not sure he’ll be locking lips with you anytime soon either. Not that you’ll get better than me, pet. You’ll die with my name on your stupid pouting mouth, aching for my touch. Not sure I want the old man’s leavings, mind. Didn’t think I’d bump into him in Sunnyhell, but with your dimpled knees to prise apart who could blame him.”



Now wasn’t that strange? He was doing the snark, taunting her to start the dance to her death…….but he didn’t feel it. In fact, he felt a loss, a pang – that her heat wasn’t his to share. Sod that.



“Grandpa? What do you mean? Spike, you tell me now what’s going on with you and Angel.”



“Sorry, pet. Can’t stand about all night. Got innocents to deflower, dinner to catch and kill. Tell you what, in grateful thanks for the seeing to you gave me…and gave me good, can’t tell a lie….I’ll give you a free pass this time. Toddle off and see if you can convince grandpa he’s the vamp of your dreams.”



Buffy’s bottom lip was trembling with the effort not to cry. She held a stake gripped tight in her hand ready to dust him…..but couldn’t. She remembered it all – waking up entangled, him holding her, his kisses…….his touch. The rush of pleasure when they….. and now this emptiness that filled her knowing it was all false. She’d felt so right in his arms. It had been so wrong.



“You’re a pig, Spike. I will kill you.”



“But not tonight, pet. Not tonight.” Duster flaring, he ran into the darkness leaving behind his scent of worn leather, cigarettes and raw sensuality.



When he’d gone she slumped against a mausoleum wall, sliding down to crumple to the floor. She let the tears come then, not really sure what she was crying for. Was it because they’d been intimate, or because they wouldn’t be again? Was the pain because she couldn’t forget the ecstasy she’d experienced in their time together, or because she didn’t think she’d ever find it anywhere else? And Angel…….Angel. What was she going to do about Angel?



As if summoned by her thoughts, a shadow stood over her. He didn’t speak………that made it worse. If he’d at least rant a little, call her out about her little tantrum earlier. But he was in full brood mode, brown eyes soulful and looking all kicked puppy. Those same eyes usually melted her to a ball of soppy happiness but right now it turned her stomach.



“Angel. Please, I…..I know we have to talk but right now I need to go tell my mom I’m okay. I’m tired, confused. You understand, don’t you?”



He nodded, his soul no doubt shiny with doing another good deed. He’d even offer to walk her home….



“I’ll see you home, Buffy. I don’t know what’s been going on, but I trust you, there’ll be a good reason. We can talk tomorrow, or not. When you’re ready. Whatever you want.”



That was the question really; what did she want? In silence, they made their way over to Revello Drive to face the Scoobies and her suddenly empty life.



++++++++++++++++++++



The group hug smothered her, skin too hot to her touch. They were all chattering at once, pecking at her like chicks at grain, all wanting a piece. She had none to give. Angel had thankfully left her at the door and for once the slinking off into the night thing he did pleased her rather than left her screaming with rage. She just wished everybody else would melt away.



Joyce Summers watched her daughter’s face as she was swallowed by the forest of arms hugging her. Her eyes were haunted, panicked. The smile and the brittle words she spoke were sufficient to fool the others, but not her. Her baby was hurting.



“Hey now, can I get some hug? I think this young lady needs rest. The inquisition can wait until tomorrow. She’ll see you at school.”



There was no arguing with that voice, they all recalled the iron streak they’d seen earlier. Maybe tomorrow would do.



One by one they sidled out, Willow’s departing gaze full of guilt. Buffy didn’t even look at them, but down at her clasped hands. She relaxed her shoulders as she heard the front door latch click home.



Joyce saw the relief wash over her little girl and decided to leave her be for tonight. A cup of hot cocoa and marshmallows would be far better for her than twenty questions right now. Smiling to herself that the parenting books must be paying off at last, she sidestepped the lounge and headed to the kitchen. While the milk was heating Joyce busied herself rearranging the cupboard where she kept the condiments and seriously avoiding thinking about the last 24 hours. She heard the stairs creak as Buffy headed upstairs and really didn’t expect to then hear the soft pitter pat of bare feet as Buffy slipped into the kitchen and onto a stool. When she turned, Buffy was all freshly scrubbed and dressed in fluffy pyjamas that made her seem even younger than she was.



“Hot chocolate, honey? Help you sleep?”



Buffy nodded, eyes wide and on the verge of tears. Joyce wisely decided against allowing the questions burning her throat to come out, simply filling a mug and pushing it towards Buffy’s hands that were nervously tapping on the surface. The hands wrapped around the mug, hugging it close. Joyce took a seat on the stool opposite and they sipped their drinks in silence. Buffy would tell her what was causing her so much pain in her own time, the books were very clear on that.



“Mom…..I….I know you’re probably freaked by what’s been going on. I’m sorry you had to find out this way about the Slayer thing and vampires. Although I did tell you vampires were real before….”



“I know, honey. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. Maybe you should have brought a handsome and naked vampire home earlier…”



“Mom!”



Joyce smiled. The relief she felt at actually having Buffy sitting in their kitchen and chatting outweighed any other emotion. Yes, it had been a shock to realise her little girl had been doing big girl stuff, and with a creature of the night no less, but on the other hand it was eclipsed by the other revelations of the day. The news that vampires were real, and so were witches, and that they lived on a mystical Hellmouth? Hard to take in. But faced with the evidence…… Oh, and the broken branches on the tree outside her window, the blood on Buffy’s clothes that she always told herself was pizza and the array of crucifixes and whittled wood in Buffy’s drawers all completed the puzzle. Her daughter was a vampire slayer. She’d deal with it. Would Buffy?



Buffy took a deep breath. “About Spike……I really loved him. Now, sitting here, it all seems stupid, but last night, today….I really loved him. Then all of a sudden…..I should hate him mom. He’s a vampire. I’m the Slayer. I should have staked him. But all I feel is ….lost, empty. What’s the matter with me?”



Joyce reached out a hand, patting her daughter’s where they were hugging the mug. “Nothing, darling. You’ve been through a harrowing time. Give it a few days, get back to normal.”



Buffy snorted. “Normal! Do I even know normal? And there’s more to tell you. You remember Angel? The older guy?”



“The history major?”



“Well………kinda. We’re sort of ….seeing each other. And he’s a vampire too.”



Joyce couldn’t hide the shock, although she made a good attempt. “Oh. Well……thanks for telling me, Buffy. Eventually.” Pointed look. “Are you….intimate?”



“MOM!”



“Look, there’s no point being coy. I found a naked man…vampire…in your bedroom. I think we can be grown up about it and admit that you’ve had sex.”



Buffy blushed. All right, she’d expected ‘the talk’ when the memories of Spike being discovered by her mom flooded back to her. She just hadn’t expected it to be so forthright.



Her little voice could just be heard. “No.”



“Well, that’s a relief. Nice to see you’ve got some taste! Spike…did you say that was his real name?” Buffy nodded. “Well, Spike is definitely the vampire I’d be swapping spit with. Angel’s too……..bulky.”



“MOM!!” Every time Buffy said the word it grew in both decibels and pitch.



Joyce giggled. “Sorry. It’s been a strange day, and I must confess that my hot chocolate has more than a sprinkling of brandy added to it.”



Buffy sniffed at her drink suspiciously.



“Don’t worry, your chocolate is entirely virgin.” A beat. “Unlike…”



“Right. That’s it… I’m off to bed.” Buffy shot out of the kitchen and up to her room, gratefully leaning against her closed bedroom door. It was just too freaky her mom making eyes at her boyfriend. Buffy blinked. Not her boyfriend, because her boyfriend was dark haired and Angel shaped. Her mistaken boyfriend then. The one who’d recently occupied her bed and her whole world.



Heart heavy, Buffy spied the rumpled sheets of her bed. Maybe they still held his scent? And the t-shirt she should have shredded but instead had placed on the pillow…..Mentally slapping herself she headed to the bathroom to clean her teeth and hopefully clean the thoughts from her head at the same time.


tbc.......
 

CHAPTER 8

Spike strolled into the factory, cigarette dangling from his fingers. He hoped Dru would have her crazy phase on her so as to be distracted from the questions she’d shoot at him when she smelled the Slayer on him. Talking of….he inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring to catch every last scrap of her essence. He told himself it was just a predator thing, getting to know his prey. But the poet inside him knew that was a lie.



Rounding the corner, he spied his dark princess sitting on the floor, dollies and a tea tray set out before her. She was babbling, ripping heads off her blindfolded babies, and Spike thanked the Powers That Be that she wouldn’t be sane enough to call him on anything. She hadn’t even registered his presence and he took advantage by heading to the bedroom and stripping off his clothes. Maybe if he had a shower and doused himself in cologne she’d never even know.



Yeah, like she even needed to use any of her normal senses…….



He dropped the clothes in a heap to deal with later and headed for the shower, striding naked through the factory to the makeshift washroom. He was outlined in moonlight and shadow, all sculpted flesh and hard angles. Hungry yellow eyes of the minions scattered throughout the building followed his progress as he nonchalantly ruffled his hair with one hand, the other stroking down his chest to come to rest at his groin.



Spike knew they were watching, in fact his ego counted on it. Just before he reached the bathroom he stopped, reaching both arms high above his head then bending over to stretch out his back. Smirk on his face, he acknowledged the whimpers he heard from the shadows and stepped out of sight.



Twenty minutes later, he was clothed once again in black, hair slicked back with gel. He really needed to re-polish the nails but they’d have to wait. He was sure he’d finally got the Slayer out of his system, having spent ten minutes in the shower trying to recreate her body and her face in his mind while he frantically wanked off, spattering the wall in front of him with his come. He felt cleansed inside and out now. No more Slayer thoughts, except the ones of her with her throat ripped out.



No, that wasn’t a twinge of guilt he felt. He was just hungry, that was all.



Time to get someone to eat.



+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++



After a restless night spent dreaming of cool skin and heated kisses, Buffy dragged her tired carcass out of bed to be met by her mom pacing in the hallway.



“Buffy! Sorry, you startled me. I just wanted to check on you….but I didn’t want to barge in, just in case…..”



“Spike’s not here mom. He’s a vampire, I’m the slayer – the only thing we have in common is our fascination with cemeteries. Trust me, the next time I see him he’ll be minus that smug grin.” The last words hitched in her throat. There was definitely something wrong with her, maybe a side effect of the spell? Time to hit the library, face the questions. Find the answers, hopefully.



Joyce saw the conflicting emotions race across Buffy’s face. Her heart ached for her daughter, so young but with such responsibility on her narrow shoulders. And by the looks of it, smitten by the gorgeous vampire.



“I’ve got to get ready. Giles and the others, they’ll be worried. I’ll see you later, ‘k?” Buffy kissed her mother’s cheek and headed for the bathroom leaving Joyce to gather her thoughts and her belongings and head out to the gallery.



+++



An hour later, Buffy felt like she was on trial. She was sitting on the most uncomfortable chair ever made – a torture device by design, surely – with Xander and Willow behind the table opposite to her and Giles standing behind the two of them. She imagined she could hear a clock ticking, but it was in her head. Anything would be better than the silence.



“So, shall I just ‘fess up now and wait for the firing squad or are there questions?”



Willow’s face was a shade to rival her hair. “I’m really, really sorry Buffy. I didn’t mean to…….I didn’t know.”



“Yeah, Will…I know. But you did. I’m sorry too. Now my head’s all messed up and I don’t know what to think.” Buffy’s big bad act lasted as long as it took for Willow’s bottom lip to start quivering. She sighed. “Guys look…it’s done, I’m here. I remember everything so there’s no real harm done. And at least we know who the ringleader is for this St Vitreous thing.”



“Vigeous” Giles corrected unconsciously.



“Yeah, whatever. So all I have to do is go find Spike, stake him, see to the bitch whore Dru and we’re good.”



Three sets of stunned eyes faced her.



“What?”



“Ahem…….Buffy. You appear to be a little, shall we say, ‘keyed up’ about the person you refer to. Dru is it?”



“Well, yeah. Stupid name. Anyway, I’ve just got to stake her and everything will be fine. And staking vampires is what I do.”



The questions came then, what had she done, where had she been, had Spike tried to kill her, did she try to kill him? She told them the G rated version. No kissage, definitely no touchy feely. And the emotions that were whirling round inside her? She hid them well. By the time Giles had made his tiny notes in his leather bound book, Willow and Xander were convinced that all was well with her and Giles was too busy wondering how to relate to the Watcher’s Council the tale of the vampire and the vampire slayer who spent the night together without any dusting whatsoever.



Classes passed in a blur, even more so than usual. By the time the last bell rang she was itching to get out and slay. But it was still daylight, not much going on in the slayage department. Shopping then, if she couldn’t slay, she’d shop. Willow and Xander were more than happy to go with, Xander just anxious to be near Buffy wherever she was and Willow desperately trying to assuage her guilt by buying Buffy mucho mocha goodness.



It was a strange trip; for some reason Buffy kept dallying by the menswear imagining a lean and spare frame covered with the radiant blue sweater that would enhance blue eyes, those shirts, right there, that would show just a glimpse of sculpted chest; the tight, black trousers cut to hang deliciously off a firm rump.



Angel; she should be thinking of Angel. And not blue eyes, brown. Gah! She was driving herself insane. She found that she was absentmindedly stroking the fang marks on her neck; so far nobody had noticed or if they had they hadn’t commented. Guiltily she jerked her hand away to avoid attention, which of course had the opposite effect.



Willow spat out the juice she was drinking, all over Xander’s back, who turned quickly to see what the fuss was about. Consequently, he watched in horror as Willow tugged at Buffy’s shirt to reveal the twin puncture holes, now almost healed but obviously from a bite.



“Buffy?” The single word was both a question and an accusation. It made her feel defensive, cornered – and a cornered Slayer was not a happy Slayer.



“What now?”



“You’ve been………bitten.”



“And that’s your business – how?”



“But…..Buffy……”



“But Buffy nothing, Willow. Look, you cast your little spell, Buffy’s brain went ga-ga and now it’s back. You’re judging me….you have no right. What’s done is done. I didn’t know who I was.” Her voice dropped to almost a whisper. “All I knew was that I was with someone who loved me….and I loved him.”



She lifted her eyes to find the shocked faces of her best friends. She couldn’t deal with this, not now.



“Look, I’ve got to go……..we’ll talk, but I need to………..I’ll catch you later….” She turned tail and fled from the mall leaving Xander and Willow staring after her departing back. The two best friends were lost for words.



“Willow………please promise me you’ll never meddle with magic again.”



Willow just nodded, the images running through her mind robbing her of her voice.



+++++++



“Dru, pet……..come to bed. You’re driving me soddin’ daft with those dolls. Come play with me……..I promise I’ll bite…” Smirk and a tongue roll for good measure. Drusilla shook her head.



“Bad Willy; you’re saying what’s in your head but your heart’s full of sunshine. Naughty boy.”



“Yeah, love. That I am……come spank me….”



Nothing he could say or do would entice Drusilla into his bed; it was driving him insane. All day he’d tried coaxing her, giving her kisses and slaps in equal measure but nothing seemed to work. She was babbling about sunshine and summer, screeching about light and destiny. Usually, he could distract her from the most insane workings of her damaged mind with caresses and punches. But not today.



And then she changed. His mercurial princess stood up from her tea party and started swaying to her unique internal music, arms high above her head to start with then twisting together before slinking down her body, caressing her own breasts and coming to rest palms down on her hips. Spike licked his lips – this was more like it.



Drusilla was singing softly to herself as she danced, eyes closed in ecstasy as she slowly raised the hem of her skirt by puckering the material in her fingers which remained centred on her sex. Spike leaned up on one elbow to watch her, never tiring of the show she put on, his free hand cupping his balls then stroking his stiffening cock as the skirt raised to reveal her dark curls.



His hand stopped. Why the fuck had the flash of lighter curls, golden skin rushed across his mind? No………..please no.



Dru sashayed her way towards the bed, humming and unhooking her bodice to let it fall to her feet and reveal pale skin and pink nipples hardened by her desire. She bent forwards, cupping her breasts and licking her scarlet lips. She’d reached the bed now and removed her hands to unzip her skirt and step out of it. Now she was bare to his gaze. Spike was horrified as he felt his erection grow flaccid.



What the fuck?



“Awww, poor baby……..mummy will fix it, sweet Willy.” Dru’s red lips opened as she took his cock into her mouth and he closed his mouth expecting ecstasy to follow. Bad move. Closed lids revealed long, blonde hair and hazel eyes. The feeling of Dru sucking on his failing erection was nearer to torture. And not in a good way.



She nipped him. With a roar he backhanded her away from him, pushing himself away from the bed to his feet. He was completely disturbed; what was going on in his head? There was certainly nothing going on in his crotch.



The fucking slayer. She was in his head, his gut, ruining his unlife. First of all Dru had ignored him all day because of her scent; now she was ready to shag him senseless and he couldn’t even get it up because her skin and hair were the wrong colour. Sod that. The only way to fix it was to get rid of the Slayer once and for all.



And the witch would pay too. Messing with his head, making him think he loved the Slayer. Him! William the Bloody, vampire who’d killed two slayers before he came to this sorry town. Nobody did that to him and lived. The lot of them would be nothing more than heaps of offal when he’d finished with them.



Except Joyce. He liked the lady. She was pleasant, and she’d made him feel like a man, more than he’d felt in over a century. He’d give her a free pass.



Right then. Snarling at Drusilla who was huddled in a ball on the floor he grabbed his clothes and made his way over to the weapons chest. Time to rid himself of the girl who’d managed to get under his skin.



+++++++++++++++++++++++



Buffy had been a whirlwind of slaughter on patrol, so much so that she’d resorted to standing in the middle of every cemetery she came to and offering bribes to the vampires to come and take her on. At first there’d been a rush of takers, but when the oncomers were striding through a big pile of dust suddenly the vampires had better places to be. Buffy pouted and screamed but to no avail. How was she supposed to distract herself from thoughts of a blond vampire and his kissable lips if the vampires wouldn’t line up and be staked?



Throwing her hair over her shoulder she stamped off home, killing a bench on the way to ease her angst. Not that it worked….



She even sidestepped Angel, telling herself that she was doing it for him, that she needed to get her mind straight before they had the talk. That was best for both of them.



She’d taken the tree route, trying to avoid thinking of the last time she’d entered the room that way. She almost felt his cool hands on her butt as she boosted herself inside and over the window ledge. Why couldn’t she stop thinking of him? He was her mortal enemy, not her soul mate. She should be disgusted with herself, not aching to feel his flesh against hers. Stupid vampire.



Buffy cleaned her teeth and studied herself in the mirror. She didn’t look any different, still Buffy. But the feelings coursing through her were entirely new. And disturbing. She scrubbed at her face until it was glowing then jumped into bed, just a nightshirt covering her in the warm night. She doubted she’d be sleeping any time soon but she’d better try because she was seriously driving herself insane. Tomorrow she’d see an end to it………to him. It was the only way. The day had been a waking nightmare; every time she closed her eyes, emptied her mind – he was there, smirking and flicking that damn tongue out and across his lips. She’d even found herself breathing in the scent of her schoolbag for the remnant of leather handle attached to it.



It couldn’t go on. He couldn’t go on. It was her sacred duty to send him to hell.



Thoughts of Spike dissolving into dust had her sobbing into her pillow. She didn’t hear the rustle of leaves outside the window, nor the heavy footfall of boots across her carpet. She felt the bed dip when he sat on the end, however, realising immediately from the tingles at her neck who it was.



“What do you want, Spike.”



“Want to taste your blood, pet, as I drain you dry.”



Buffy moved under the covers, looking up at him, their eyes meeting. They both gasped, sizzling electricity taking them by surprise. She turned her neck.



“Go ahead…but you know I’ll kill you. You ready for that?”



Buffy started crying again at her own words. Question is, was she ready for that?



“Hey, hey, pet……….what’s with the tears?” Without thought, Spike was at her side, cradling her, soothing her with kisses and caresses. Buffy wrapped her arms around him, clinging to his chest. She was speaking but really, he couldn’t make out a word even with his vampire hearing. The fangs were gone, the amber eyes replaced with startling blue.



“Buffy, love. Shhh. You’re going to have to take it slow, spell it out to me, yeah? I’m listening, go on.”



Buffy sniffled against his shirt, inhaling deeply of his scent. It had been 24 hours since she’d been held in his arms. Here was the only place she felt whole.



“Thing is, Spike. I don’t know what’s happened to me.” He filled the gaps in her sob-ridden words himself. “I’ve never felt as good as I do when you hold me. Why is that? I should kill you…I’ve got the stake right here…” She reached for the bedside cabinet and Spike watched her little hand groping about for the instrument of his destruction. She gripped the stake and brought it round to rest on the bed in front of her.”



“So, here I am………killing you…”



She didn’t move, time stretched between them. “Go on then, get it over with. Take me out of this world, because truly Buffy, if I can’t have you…..I don’t know how you’ve gotten inside me, love, but you’re right here.” He splayed his hand, palm down, over his heart. “Been trying to forget about you. Tried all bloody day. Showered until I thought I’d rip all my skin off – but nothing got you from out of my head. Dru’s all insane crazy about us; she always knows what’s really inside your heart. Offering it to me on a plate she was, and all I could think of was warm, golden flesh and your bloody stupid hair!”



Buffy sniffled again, eyes wide and fixed on Spike as he prattled on. “Soddin’ hell, Slayer! I’m supposed to be your big bad nemesis, instead I’m your bloody lapdog. How the mighty have fallen….”



Buffy couldn’t speak. She was too emotional to form words. Eventually she squeaked out “You mean…….you feel something…….too…..?”



Spike fixed her with his icy blue stare. Feel something? No. Everything? Yes and then some. This tiny blonde had invaded his world and now he couldn’t exist in his world without her.



Buffy’s eyes were still teary, moisture clinging to her skin. Spike leaned forward and traced the path of her tears with his tongue delighting in the saltiness of her. He remembered clearly the taste of her blood pooling in his mouth and felt his cock harden in his jeans. This woman had more mastery of his body than he did! One glance, one trace of scent and he was begging for her to hurt him, get down and dirty and make him scream.



Buffy kicked off the covers to reveal tanned legs peeping out from the satin nightshirt. She looked so innocent, freshly scrubbed face, hair brushed until it shone. The demon wanted to defile her; the man wanted to love her. Tentatively, he reached out a hand and starting at her knee, drew circles with his fingers up her inner thigh to brush lightly against her curls. Buffy arched her back wanting him to delve deeper inside her. Instead, he moved his attentions to the other thigh, repeating the motion there but this time allowing his hand to rest against her mound, one finger sliding gently over her clit. Buffy’s breathing was becoming laboured as she felt herself aroused to almost painful intensity. She reached towards him, cupping his cock through his jeans and squeezing until his eyes rolled back. Innocent, this girl? No way.



He stood up from the bed, eyes not leaving her flushed face as he popped the buttons on his fly one by one. The boots were kicked off, duster shrugged from his shoulders to cover the discarded footwear and suddenly he was naked, stepping out of his jeans and stalking towards her, hand resting on his stomach, fingers pointing along the line of dark hair to his groin. As if he needed any attention drawing to the stiff cock that jutted from his dark curls…..



Buffy reached for the hem of the nightshirt and gripped it, pulling it up and over her head to leave her as bare to his gaze as he was to hers. Almost in slow motion, Spike crawled up her body, coming to rest with his forehead against hers, his groin against her mound and sliding against her.



“Kiss me,” Buffy whispered, voice raw with lust and other unnamed – for now – emotions.



Softly, Spike complied, tongue sweeping across her lips before gently prising them apart and gaining entry to her warm mouth. He increased the pressure adding in the mindblowing twist of his hands roaming over her body, tweaking and stroking in turn to have her begging him to fill her.



“God, Slayer……….” Once again Spike struggled with the demon, only this time both of them were aware of the consequences of letting him out. His eyes flickered from blue to gold, Buffy feeling his forehead ridge then smooth out where it rested against her. She wanted this. She wanted the man and the demon to be hers. Really, once she’d had them both there wasn’t any other choice…..



Spike shifted his hips and entered her slowly, agonisingly so, when she wanted to drag him deep and harder against her sex. He fought the urge to fuck her hard. This was a big deal for him. He’d come to kill her, instead he was babbling about her being under his skin. He may as well make it pretty.



“Spike” a breathy moan against his ear had him increasing the pace and losing control of the demon. Fully vamped, his fangs scraped across the marks he’d left at their last coupling, the sensation stimulating Buffy’s erogenous zones to almost white hot intensity. She clamped her legs up around his hips, her nails scraping down his back as she bit down on his shoulder.



Once again, Spike’s fangs penetrated her flesh and the orgasm that followed dragged him over the precipice with her. Buffy tasted the salt of his blood on her tongue as she bit down harder to stifle the scream building in her throat. She should be gagging; she was suckling. The taste was like nectar and she shut down that part of her brain that told her to spit it out.



“You’re mine, Buffy. You’ll always be mine.” His words purred against her neck setting off another explosion in her pussy that milked him dry. She moved her mouth away from him a little, her lips smeared with his blood. “Mine,” she murmured against his skin. “God help me, you’re mine.”



Panting, Buffy slid from underneath him and settled her head on his chest as he lay down. She drew little circles on his chest, gathering her breath. She knew they had a lot to talk about. But really, lying here – that was all she needed for now.



“So pet……where do we go from here?”



Buffy smiled, raised her head to lean on a hand. Where indeed……She couldn’t believe that just one misplaced spell could have such an effect on two powerful beings without it being fated. Maybe it wasn’t such an accident after all. And yeah, her friends would freak and Angel would have his heart ripped out….but she’d never felt like this in Angel’s arms. Not even close. There was no point fighting the inevitable.



“Let’s start with this shall we?”



Buffy started to nibble on his lower lip. He growled and flipped her over to lay on her back. The big questions could wait until tomorrow.


THE END