SECTION 4 - ELSEWHERE

(Sarah McLachlan, Album - Fumbling Towards Ecstasy)
Thanks also to Emma for suggesting this way back when I started FTE, even if it did take me three months to follow through.
Hope she's still reading.

"So what's this miracle cure that you've found, love?" Spike asked as he and Buffy slid into the back seat of the DeSoto, leaving the front for Dawn and Brandon.

"Same thing that cured Angel. My blood."

"And mine," Dawn interrupted from the front seat.

Spike almost snarled, "Stay out of this, Niblet. And you... I seem to recall we already had this discussion once this morning."

"And you said you wouldn't take a chance on hurting me. I remember... And I told you that I would do whatever had to be done to get you well."

"Well, you can fuck right off." Spike reached for the door handle despite the fact the vehicle was now in motion.

"...Even if it meant finding a safe way to do this." Buffy reached across Spike's body and pulled the door shut again before he got it open more than the first few inches. His eyes swivelled to meet her gaze. "Or rather Bee found a safe way to do it. There's a doctor waiting at Wes's place with a cooler full of AB pos and saline so that he can keep topping us up as we go, so the whole blood loss thing is covered and I won't let Dawn give more than a couple of pints anyway and you don't need to feed directly from us. We don't even need to be in the same house if you don't want, though I can't say I'm all that keen on letting you out of my sight."

Spike's voice was hoarse with emotion. "Me neither, love." Under the guise of a kiss he whispered in her ear. "Was so afraid I was goin' to have to leave you. Didn't want to break my promise but I just couldn't risk hurtin' either of you."

"Don't ya know us hero types always come up with the goods in the nick of time? That's what we do," Buffy whispered back before letting her teeth barely graze his earlobe in a gentle nip. She drew back, looking at the bruises all over Spike's face and body. "Does it hurt when I kiss you?"

Spike reached out a hand to cradle her face as he drew her back in toward him. "Not half as much as it hurts when you don't."

* * * * *

Buffy looked up from her haven in Spike's arms as Brandon pulled into the drive at the side of the house and slammed the brakes on rather more quickly than she was expecting.

"What the-?" Spike spat out, as the classic car nearly hit the black convertible that was occupying the space behind the pick-up truck that was in the DeSoto's normal spot. The vamp's eyes narrowed and Buffy could feel the rage that sprang instantly to life in his veins as he recognised his grandsire's car.

"Why do I even bother trying to talk to you? You don't listen to a bloody thing I say, do you?"

Buffy tried to convey a sense of calm to the touchy vamp. "Will, I never asked him to come. Whatever reason he's here, it's not what you're thinking. You made it clear how you felt on that score and there's no way I would risk what we have. I don't know why he's come, but even if Bee hadn't found us a demon doc, I wouldn't do what I said about getting him to bite me. Not after you made it clear what it meant to you. Okay?"

In the face of Buffy's honesty Spike's anger died as quickly as it had flared. "'Kay. Sorry, love. He just-."

"He pushes your buttons. I know. Dawn, you want to see what he wants while I get Spike over to the doc and make a start on the whole blood donor thing?"

"No-o-o, but I-. Skank alert." Dawn switched topic mid-sentence as Faith walked out onto the back porch and lit a cigarette.

"Old friend, pet?"

"Only in a wishing her dead kind of way..." Buffy told him.

Spike sniffed the air. "Seems like you and the 'Fabulous Watcher Boys' weren't the only ones as worked out what was up. Didn't figure his High and Mighty-ness for a meals on wheels volunteer though."

"You have got to be joking. He thought I was going to let you put your teeth in that ho?"

Spike's mouth curled into a swollen-lipped smirk at Buffy's possessiveness as she pulled him from the car rather more forcefully than she probably intended.

"Come on, Spike. The doctor's waiting."

* * * * *

"You understand that?" Buffy asked after Spike relayed the doctor's instructions for Buffy to lie down on one of Wes's new sofas, the other still being taken up by Tara's unconscious form. The slayer settled herself and Spike kneeled on the floor in front of the couch so that he could hold her left hand while her right arm was being connected up to an empty blood bag. The doctor pressed a plastic grip into her hand and curled and uncurled his fist until she caught on.

"Understand, sure. Speak it, different matter."

"At least someone knows what the blazes he's saying," Giles muttered from his perch on the arm of Tara's sofa as he adjusted the ice-pack that he had pressed to his forehead. "I had no idea what the dickens he was wittering on about when I came to. Nearly jumped a mile when I saw that face bending over me."

"Watcher, just because you don't understand him doesn't mean that he doesn't understand you an' since he's the one as is goin' to be lookin' after the ladies maybe you could be a bit more polite."

"Quite." Giles looked over at the demon. "Sorry, old chap. No offence intended, I'm sure."

The doctor replied with an extremely lengthy stream of clicks and tuts that made the smile that already adorned Spike's face grow even larger and even drew a throaty chuckle. Giles looked across to the vampire for a translation.

"He says none taken neither... So, pet, how come the Dark Slayer's got your panties in a bunch?"

"She... she terrorised mom and held her hostage."

"Did she now?" Spike's voice took on a menacing tone at the very idea of anyone laying a finger on Joyce.

"Uh-huh." The slayer nodded her head emphatically.

Giles took off his glasses and rolled his eyes. "And the fact that she borrowed your body and used it to sleep with Riley in no way has anything to do with your antipathy for her, does it?"

"Well, maybe..." Buffy conceded.

"An' what?" asked Spike. "You think if she tried it with me I wouldn't notice the difference? Come on, love. Have a bit of faith."

"It's you having a bit of Faith that I'm worried about. You thought that thing was me."

"Only 'cause I was bloody delirious, love."

"She always goes after what's mine. She seems to think that because we're both slayers that we should be the same. That it's somehow my fault that she had a screwed up home life and is incapable of having a meaningful relationship, so she'll take mine instead."

"Cardboard was a meaningful relationship? P-lease. If she wanted him she must've been hard up."

"And Angel and Xander and Giles-."

"I beg your pardon?" the watcher interrupted.

"Okay, okay, so she didn't actually sleep with you... but she tried to convince you that I was the murderer and get you to side with her."

Spike simply leaned over toward her, his fingers gently turning the ring that decorated the hand he held as he lifted it so that her fingertips brushed the scar at the junction of his shoulder and his neck.

"Yours, beautiful," he whispered. "Absolutely, totally, irrevocably and eternally yours. Never doubt it."

"How sweet! Bit of a change from the last time I came through town." Faith's voice carried from the doorway. "Gee, B, you know all the best vamps."

"Faith, quit with the wise-cracks and get in there," Angel snapped from just behind the slayer's shoulder. "And can someone invite me in before I fry?"

"Actually, gramps, for the moment that would be a no, seein' as the man of the house is elsewhere. Come to that, I'm not too sure he'd invite you in even if he was here... and if you put that blanket down for a second you'd realise you're in the shade. The house faces north, you big drama queen."

The elder vampire turned to Dawn, who pushed past both him and Faith to get into the house. "Oopsie. Did I forget to mention that the neighbour that was helping out is Wes. Bad me."

"Dawn," Buffy's voice held more than a hint of reproval. "Try to remember that you haven't said thanks to Angel or any of his friends for the assist getting you back from Sam and be nice."

Faith turned to Angel. "Wesley? You didn't mention anything about seeing him. It's- I-."

"You can do it, Faith. Don't worry. Wes is in no position to take the moral high ground," he told her, his voice at once offering reassurance and yet sounding grim.

A sliding-pitched whistle interrupted the debate and Spike returned his attention to Buffy. He reached over and took the grip from her hand. "Relax for a minute, pet. Time to swap bags, love."

"Look," Angel suggested. "Why don't you let Faith take over?"

"I can do it, Angel. We already had the situation under control," Buffy argued.

"Shh, pet. Gettin' all wound up won't help with the blood pressure." The doctor hesitated over switching in a new, empty bag until Spike gave him the nod. "Giles, why don't you take the doc and Bitty upstairs and get her set up in the spare room? ...And make sure she gets a pint put back for every one she takes out. Can't take any chances after the blood she lost when that bitch had a hold of her. Angel, there's bugger all you can do here until you get an invite, so why don't you check to see if any of the rest of that bunch you brought with you are the same type as our jailbird here? If we decide to take things that way, which is something me and Buffy need to discuss before this goes any further." The vampire turned his attention to Faith. "An' I'm led to believe that hot, sweet tea and biccies are the order of the day for these situations. Kitchen's that way."

Faith opened her mouth as if to protest but Spike wasn't about to let her.

"...Assumin' you're here on some mission of restitution or redemption or to say thanks for the heads up or whatever."

Everyone, finally and in some instances reluctantly, went about their appointed tasks and Spike smiled over at Buffy, still holding her hand in his. "You don't want her to be any part of this, do you?" he asked, pitching his voice so that it wouldn't carry through to the kitchen.

"No, for some reason I have this whole misguided thing about you getting off on drinking her blood. Duh?" Buffy answered sarcastically. "Or did you think I'd forgotten the effect slayer blood has on you?"

"Buffy, with her, that's just a fact of life. Her blood means no more to me than Harris's little, blue pills mean to him. It's you and how I feel about you that makes sharing blood between us special and you know that when I get like that there's only one woman that I'm thinkin' about...

Now, I say let her match you pint for pint 'cause the more of your own blood you have left at the end of this the more stamina you're going to have left for when me and not so little Spike finally get you alone..." The vampire's eyes twinkled with glee at the prospect. "...But the decision is yours. If you don't want her involved, then I understand."

* * * * *

"Guess we should get our canine heroine back to her master then so she can see he's okay for herself... Well, hopefully okay?" Bee suggested to Wes.

The watcher gratefully rose from his spot in plastic seat hell, stretching in an effort to get the kinks out of his back. Once they'd found Spike, Wes had pointed out that there was little more of immediate concern that he could do. He'd volunteered to take Anya home and then join Bee at the veterinarian's. That had been twenty minutes ago, but to his back it felt like two hours.

"I'm sure he'll be fine. He wasn't exactly in the best of health when we got to him, but I can guarantee that Buffy wouldn't allow him to deteriorate, even if it meant some risk to herself," Wes told her, treading lightly around the fact that he was now relatively certain that the orbs, if nothing else, seemed to stabilise the vampire's condition and loan him some of their strength.

"Good. They're a cute couple, don't you think?"

"They look good together, if that's what you mean."

"Partly. More how they sorta fit, you know." Bee shrugged, frustrated at her inability to pin down exactly what she did mean. "It's not as common as people think."

"No, it's not," Wes agreed.

"...But I think maybe you and Marie have a shot."

"I could say the same about you and Giles. There seems to be more than a little electricity between you two." Wes endeavoured to turn the conversation away from what he still considered a sensitive subject.

Bee shook her head. "He's cute... in a fuddy duddy kind of way, but I can't be what he needs."

Wes checked that they had put enough distance between themselves and the other people around before answering. "If you mean the demon thing, I suspect he might surprise you."

Bee waited as Wes opened the rear door of the car and then lifted the puppy inside. "A bit, I suppose, but that's the sort of thing we could work our way round if we wanted to. Mostly, I mean the demon hybrid thing."

"I'm not sure that I understand."

Wes didn't get an answer until they were both inside the car. Bee fiddled distractedly with her cigarettes and lighter, but waited until Wes shrugged his acquiescence before she indulged her habit. "Think of it like this... Imagine say, within limits, that different demons are like different breeds of horses, so Lily's parents had her... and she had Clem and Thomas... and Thomas had little Rosa, but Rosa ...and me, we won't be having any kids because in this analogy if demons are horses then humans are donkeys and that makes Rosa and me mules. It's just the way things are. Can't be changed... but you'd have to be blind not to see that your Rupert is a born father, the way he looks at Buffy and Dawn, even the way he was with Rosa when Lily was watching her while they were talking last night. He needs a little girl in ankle socks and ribbons to steal his heart away and keep him young before he turns into a crotchety old man and that's not something I'm capable of giving him. I'm going to be the proverbial old woman with her cat.

And besides... I think you're forgetting that I already have a date and your friend already has 'someone of whom he is very fond'. Now, let's get this dog home."

Wes gave Bee a sympathetic smile. "There's a whole world of difference between being fond of someone and being in love and I'm quite sure if you gave yourself the chance you could do every bit as good a job of stealing someone's heart as any little girl."

Bee, however, didn't even seem to hear him, lost as she was in her own little world.

* * * * *

"What have we got?"

The male nurse shrugged and passed over the clipboard. "Twenty nine year old male. Brought in with a potentially fatal stab wound through the upper thigh, going from inner to outer. No other visible injuries to suggest a fight. High probability that it was self-inflicted, though if we're to believe the patient a vampire did it, using a wooden cross of all things. He keeps shouting for his mother, saying if she comes back he'll get them this time... but when we rang the number in his wallet for next of kin we got some guy who said he used to be his guardian. Turns out his mother was murdered when he was four years old."

"Sounds like he's one of ours, alright. I'll take it from here. What break are you on?"

"Three?"

"See ya in the canteen, then."

"See ya, Holden." The med student wheeled his patient into the Psych Ward. Theoretically, he was there only for assessment. Holden had a feeling that he was going to be there for a very long time.

"The decision is yours. If you don't want her involved, then I understand."

"I don't. I don't want her involved. More specifically, I don't trust her anywhere near you."

Spike's lips curved upwards in a tight smile that told Buffy that was okay with him and he gave a single nod. "That's settled, then."

Buffy, however, continued to look troubled. She shook her head and tried to sit up slightly, only for the vamp to gently push her back into the softness of the couch's cushions though he bent over so that she could clearly see his face.

"No, Spike, it isn't. I don't want her involved, but you being well is more important to me than what I want... So-o-o, if we have to... if it turns out that a couple of pints from me and a couple of pints from Dawn isn't enough, then, yes, before we start with the diluted stuff, we use her. God knows she owes me more than that, but I'll settle... and I might not trust her any further than Dawn could throw her, but you, I trust. Even if she tries, she's not going to be able to make trouble between us... Well, she probably will... somehow, but nothing we can't cope with."

"You're sure? 'Cause if it's going to freak you out, then we can work our way 'round it."

"I'm sure. I mean if we don't need her I won't exactly be overcome with remorse but if I say no, then it's like saying I don't trust you... and I do, Spike, I really do."

Spike's mouth twisted into a teasing grin as he stroked her cheek with a knuckle. "Now I know we better get that doc back down here and get you topped up. You've got to be light-headed to be sayin' that out loud."

"Definitely light-headed, and all for nothing, too, since you haven't even started on the first bag... Go get yourself a mug and you can break the news to F while you're there." She treated the vamp to her own wicked grin. "Then, when you get back we'll work out what to do with Angel."

"I guess since we're on about the best terms we've been on in the better part of a century that tying him spread eagle out in the back yard an' waitin' for the sun to shift is out of the question?"

Buffy shook her head at her vamp's teasing and waved him toward the kitchen with her free hand. "I hate to think what you two used to be like if this is you on good terms."

"That's easy, pet. In the bad old days I wouldn't have been jokin'."

* * * * *

"We're back." Wes gave Bee a smile. "Thought I'd lost you there."

"No such luck."

"I'm going to go check where Buffy wants Rogue. With your friend ending up watching over Tara and Giles, I suspect Buffy, Spike and Dawn will have ended up at my place, too."

"I better fetch Rupert and then see how..." Bee strung together a series of clicks and tuts that Wes assumed was her doctor's name. "...Is doing. I should only be a minute and then if you need any help I'll be back. It looks like Buffy's got company, anyway."

Wes noticed the cars in front of the DeSoto for the first time and his mood darkened visibly. "Yes, it rather appears that she does."

* * * * *

"Bee!" Brandon was obviously relieved by the woman's presence. "I don't suppose you could take over here while I check on Dawn?"

Bee shook her head. "Just came to pick up Rupie before I go check on the doc. He gets kinda nervous when you leave him alone with a whole bunch of strangers for too long." She scanned the room as Rupert jumped down from his windowsill perch to weave around her legs.

"When Dawn went over she said to keep an eye on everybody and she'd be coming more or less straight back, but then she didn't."

"Actually, I do need to borrow you for a while. The vet had to sedate Rogue to do the x-rays and she's kinda groggy. I could use a hand getting her out of the car and it's better if it's someone she knows." She gave the teenager a wink unseen by the others in the room.

"Nice 'meeting' you all," she told the AI crew in a tone of voice that didn't entirely hide her coolness toward the group who simply by their presence had managed to dampen Wes's spirits. Then, just as she was about to leave, for no reason that Brandon could discern, she turned, pinning Connor with an unfriendly glare before walking out, Rupert strutting elegantly alongside and Dawn's boyfriend grabbing a sheet of paper from the coffee table and then rushing to catch up.

* * * * *

Spike opened the door from the kitchen onto the back porch, unsurprised to find the missing slayer there, squeezing in time for a cigarette while she waited for the kettle to boil.

"So," he started as he lit a cigarette of his own. "Buffy hasn't had much of a chance to fill me in on the background between the pair of you but I think I've had the highlights.

I'm assumin' since Soul Boy brought you all the way up here that he somehow heard what was up and he thinks you're goin' to be amenable to bein' a blood donor. Is he right?"

Faith shrugged. "Guess so. I mean he didn't exactly take the time to explain what the plan was..."

Spike snorted. "Just like gramps. Never was big on consultation.

Look, situation is this. Buffy and Bit are both set to give a couple of pints... at which point the doc will top them up with normal blood before they give any more. If it turns out that that first batch doesn't do the trick then we'll be lookin' to you to step in an' give a pint or two. Otherwise, you're off the hook.

Now, before he gets back, why don't you enlighten me as to how come you turned white as a sheet at the very mention of the Junior Watcher? The last thing we need in the middle of all this are any unpleasant surprises."

"It's a little late for that." The slayer froze in place as Wes joined them on the porch. "Isn't it, Faith?"

"Wesley, I- I know there's no way to apologise for what I did but I am sorry."

"Spare us the melodrama," Wes interrupted. "You stayed in prison until your life was under threat. That at least shows a degree of contrition in excess of any your sponsor has ever shown, but you're right. There is no way to apologise for what you did so perhaps you should refrain from insulting us both by trying.

I must say that I didn't expect to see you here and it might even scrape into my top ten worst moments of a particularly bad year but since your presence is at least potentially useful I dare say that I can tolerate it for an hour or two. After all, I've endured far worse."

He turned his back on the two smokers, but only to go as far as one of the kitchen cupboards from which he pulled a mug, setting it on the bench by the back door with a loud thump. "I believe that was what you were looking for, Spike."

By the time the blond flicked away his half-smoked cigarette he and Faith were alone once more.

"Guess we'll have to leave that little story for later, wildcat. Sounds like it's a doozy."

* * * * *

"So... Angel?" Buffy asked as Spike began drinking from the mug that now held half of the first pint of blood that Buffy had provided.

"What about him? As far as I can tell he's on escort duty an' that's 'bout it."

"Yeah, but since he's here and Giles is here maybe we can... you know, get them talking... before the wedding." Buffy looked at the vamp with pleading eyes.

"Why do I get the impression that we means me?"

"Because if I try to get them drunk enough to talk I'll be ill for a week."

"You want me to get the watcher drunk?"

Buffy nodded her head. "Believe me, if you want to get rid of that stiff upper lip and get Giles to say exactly what he's bottling up, drunk is the way to do it... And since it's your fault that I know that, Mr Troublemaker Adam Accomplice, you get to supervise."

"And if it doesn't work?"

"No one can say we didn't try..."

"And Broody and Wes? I'm not even goin' to touch that one with a barge pole. Soul Boy is real big on the forgiveness deal, just so long as it's not him doin' the forgivin'."

"That one might still be just a little bit raw, but if you can square things between Giles and Angel... I'll take Angel and Wes duty."

Spike gave a smirk. "I'll take my half of that deal any day. Of course, that idea I had earlier would solve both." Spike drained the mug and tipped in the rest of the first packet just as Bee and Wes pushed open the front door for Brandon to carry in Rogue.

As soon as the boy put the dog down, she began to stumble in Spike's direction, finally lying down with her head in his lap.

Bee made her way over to where Tara lay, tilting her head slightly to one side as Rupert jumped up onto the back of the girl's sofa and purred like a small lawnmower engine. "Spike?" she asked.

"Yep, you're right, breathin's changed. Sounds like she's thinkin' 'bout comin' round." The vampire subconsciously stroked the dog beside him as he spoke. "Best get the doc."

Bee looked over at the other two blondes as the doctor made his way downstairs in any case, carrying what she assumed was the first pint of Dawn's blood. "Seems to me like you need to do less organising and more drinking. You're two pints adrift already, so shut up and drink up and let me and Wes take charge. Wes, you want upstairs or down?"

Wes gave the woman a shadow of a grin. "You seem to be doing such a good job motivating Spike, I think I'll take upstairs."

"Okay, doc, looks like the lady here's filled a bag, and I'm guessing that along with what he's drinking that makes her ready for her first top up. Why don't you help her out and I'll see what's to be done with our white witch here? And Spike, like I said, if your brain can't cope with stroking the dog and lifting a mug at the same time, then I'm pretty sure Rogue will wait." Spike gave a guilty pause in his attention to the mongrel as if ashamed of being caught before he seemed to give up on appearances and went back to work, making sure, however, that he kept up with his drinking. Wes decided to head for the stairs before Bee started giving him orders, too. After a glance around Brandon followed Wes, passing him the piece of paper with all the AI group's names and blood types on it and explaining what it was for.

Wes scanned the list before screwing it up and throwing it in the waste paper basket in the room where Dawn was lying.

"None of them are a match," he explained.

"You haven't even checked what group she is."

"I used to be her watcher. I know... So, Dawn, how're you feeling?"

* * * * *

Buffy wasn't entirely convinced that Bee's motives for getting Spike to remove his shirt were solely to do with observing the healing process, but she wasn't about to complain, so long as the other woman did no more than look. To be fair, she had spent more time tending to Tara than the vampire, bringing her herbal teas and an ice pack for her head, though she had managed to prod the vampire into finishing off all four pints of blood that Buffy and Dawn had so far provided in record time, and the effects were beginning to show.

The cruciform burns that had adorned Spike's back were gone and the palms of his hands had likewise healed. The cuts and abrasions from Wood's beating of him had disappeared even more quickly and the bruising seemed to be fading from his face and extremities as the group watched and waited, but slowly the healing process seemed to be coming to a halt. The bruises on Spike's torso clearly remained to show that his cure was far from complete.

Buffy grudgingly conceded that they were going to be forced to accept Faith's offer of help. "Bee, d'you mind fetching her in and getting your friend to do his thing?"

"Nah, wait a minute, doll," Spike suggested. "Maybe if we give it a bit longer to... well, not circulate it'll do the trick in its own good time. I mean, Angel Arse can't have taken much more than four pints from you or you'd have been a goner. I know an average bloke is meant to have eight pints or summat, but you're not a bloke and you're... dinkier than the average. There's no way you've got more than about six pints in you altogether. An' if that was enough for him..."

"Spike, I know what you're trying to do but believe me you were in a far worse state than Angel was," Buffy argued.

"Besides, didn't I tell you all you have to do here is drink what we tell you to drink?" Bee berated him. "Why do you think we're going to want your medical opinion when there's a doctor in the house?" Everyone looked over at the grey skinned demon, who was currently sitting cross-legged on the floor drinking a cup of hot chocolate. He cast his eyes briefly over the obvious bruising and issued some more clicks and tuts that had Bee heading for the kitchen and Spike rolling his eyes at being overruled.

Buffy looked up as she heard Tara move from the sofa where she had more recently been sitting rather than lying. "Are you okay to move around?"

Tara tucked her hair at one side behind her ear and gave her an asymetrical smile as she took a seat on a thick rug. "Other than the headache, I'm fine. If I need to lie down again I can always keep Dawn company in the spare room and if the doctor sets up Faith down here it saves him having to carry more stands and scales and stuff upstairs."

"Not that it makes any difference now, but do you know why the spell went wrong? Giles said as you were the main spellcaster and he was just like an extra battery that he only got a teeny bit of the backlash and he couldn't say what went wrong."

"I think I know..." Tara began uncertainly. "That thing you and Spike saw in your vision, the talisman, he was in the same place as it, wasn't he?"

"That'd be the place."

"It sounds stupid to say this... but it didn't want to be found. Somehow, even though it wasn't the spell's target, it knew what we were doing and it hit back. I don't know what that thing does, Buffy, but it is powerful, truly arcane, and it is evil and if you try to use magic against it, then it will warp it and twist it and throw it right back at you."

"But I saw it. I mean it was using the claim rather than a spell but it's still magic... isn't it?"

Bee and Faith had returned to the room as Tara spoke, unnoticed by the rest of the group and when the WIccan admitted that she didn't know why Buffy hadn't suffered the same fate she had, Bee stepped in.

"It's different," the half-demon explained. "The claim is mystical and it draws on the supernatural power inside you and Spike. Most magic derives its power from the fact that deep down everything in this world and every other is connected. In magic everything is one, so the caster draws power from the world around her, leaving traces in the ether to show what she's done. The bond between you and Spike doesn't. Magically speaking, it's pretty much invisible."

* * * * *

By the time Faith was stretched out on one of Wes's sofas with a saline drip replacing some of the fluid, if not the plasma she had donated, Dawn had insisted that she was well enough to head downstairs and see what was happening. Her entourage of watchers had carried her and her drip stand down to the living room under Brandon's supervision and they had all joined the group waiting to see whether Faith's blood would be enough to tip the scale.

Beneath their gazes Spike's bruising retreated, first from his upper chest and then far more slowly from the carved planes of his abdomen.

Faith gave a low wolf-whistle. "B, hon, now I see why ya go for the dead guys. If I found me a honey who's gonna look that cute forever, I think I'd keep him, too."

"Do you ever like hit on a guy that doesn't belong to someone else?" Dawn asked irritably.

"Just makin' conversation. If I was hitting on him you could tell by my being on his lap. Why? Wondering why I'm not hitting on Cat Eyes, there?" Faith responded with a glance in Brandon's direction.

"So, are we done?" Faith asked. "'Cause eight months of lying still with tubes everywhere is enough for me."

Spike looked over to where Buffy was also still hooked up to a drip. He gently levered Rogue's head from his lap, grimacing at the drool marks she had left behind but declining to say anything that might draw attention to that particular area of his body. He leaned over Buffy, angling his head so that only she would be able to see his face and as he kissed her, he deftly slid the pouch with the orbs into her hand. The time had come to try working without a net.

"I guess if we give it an hour or two and it doesn't get worse again, then we'll know, won't we?" the platinum blond replied.

Buffy eyed the drip that was attached to her arm impatiently. "Can you ask him if there's any way to hurry this thing up?"

Before either Bee or Spike could respond the demon simply gave her what she took to be a stern look and shook his head. Spike gave the smallest of smiles and told his fiancée. "That's why it's called drip, not a torrent. Your turn to do what the doctor tells you."

"Well, someone needs to go check on what the bunch from LA are up to and I don't think you should be going too far from the doctor just yet. And sunlight."

"I'll go."

All eyes in the room, except those of the doctor, who was unaware of the significance of the comment, turned to Wesley.

Wes shrugged. "I do know them rather better as a group than anyone else... and while I have no intention of issuing an invitation to my home to a vampire who recently tried to kill me, I'll not have it said that I hid away from them either."

Bee stood up from her seat on the floor. "I've got your back. That kid over there needs a lesson in manners anyway, whispering behind people's backs. I'm more human than he is, whatever he is, so it's not as if he had room to say anything in the first place."

Spike sighed. "Sounds like Uncle Connor takes after his old man in the charm department... or it could be dear old Darla showing through in the genes. I would say he doesn't mean anything by it, pet, but I'd like as not be lying. Let's just say he's hopefully in the process of being re-educated."

"Well, it can't happen too soon."

Tara frowned. "Maybe I should go. I mean, I live there and I don't have any tubes attached."

Bee indicated the ice-pack the girl still held to her forehead. "We're trying to get rid of that headache of yours, not make it worse." She then nodded to where the Siamese was curled in the other girl's lap. "Not to mention the fur ball deserves his sleep after his little trek."

"If they'll buy it, you could try telling them to go over to my place an' make themselves at home. You know what the keys look like. Think they're on the dresser in our room. Tell them to order some food in or something, get some kip if any of them need it, give us some peace. It could be a while before we're done here," Spike suggested.

"And tell Angel there's something I need to see him about later, but I'll call him at Spike's apartment. Brandon, you better give them the keys so they can move Spike's car," Buffy added.

The door closed behind the two of them and Giles turned his gaze on the blonde couple. "More human than he is? Uncle Connor? Would anyone care to tell me what's going on here?"

Spike shrugged. "Well, she doesn't smell human but I'd guess from what she just said that she's half an' half. Didn't see as it made any difference. Up to her if she wanted to bring it up, which she has now, so...

An' I figure uncle is the right title for grandpa's kid. 'Course seein' how Dru sired his mum he gets to call me uncle too, not as he would."

"I beg your pardon?" Giles asked somewhat indignantly as he turned his attention to Buffy.

"Darla, Angel's sire, brought back from the dead as a human?" Buffy supplied somewhat hesitantly. "Drusilla with the making into a vamp again? Then her and Angel with the... em, well, I'm sure you can figure that bit out and... Boom, prophesy baby? Well, not boom as such. I think it took about nine months... but you know? Kidnapped by time travelling psycho from the sixteen, no - add one - eighteenth century, taken to a hell dimension, one week for Angel, sixteen, seventeen years for kid then back to LA so not much difference. Did we forget to explain all this?"

Giles simply treated Buffy to the coldest of glares, leaving Brandon to break the silence.

"That does kinda explain the social skills."

* * * * *

Buffy sipped at the tea Giles had made for everyone (after he finished remonstrating with them all about how useful telephones could be) and frowned as she watched Spike drink his with lemon rather than milk, peering as intently as she could from her supine position at his forehead.

"Spike, you're sweating."

The vampire touched a hand to his face. "Could be steam... well, condensation from the tea," he responded but he sounded unconvinced. The doctor bustled over with his bag and extracting a thermometer, he held it out to the vampire while giving more instructions in his native language.

The vampire stuck the glass tube under his tongue with obvious reluctance.

"Can we start drawing off some more blood, yet?" Buffy asked, pressing the pouch with the orbs back into his hands, no longer caring who saw or what they made of the ensuing light show.

The doctor shook his head once more, offering up an explanation that only Spike was able to understand. Using the others' lack of comprehension as an excuse, the vampire removed the foreign object from his mouth and clarified. "The doc says he's willing to take more from you, but not before that drip is empty. He doesn't want to take any more from Bit unless he has to and her blood isn't going to be as potent anyway because as a percentage less of it will be her own by the time she gets that second pint put back and he's none too happy about takin' more from our little felon there unless he has real blood to replace it with instead of saline."

The doctor gave another whistle and Spike rolled his eyes and stuck the thermometer back in his mouth.

"Great. Doesn't he understand that we're slayers? We don't need to be coddled." She turned her puppy dog eyes on the doctor directly. "Can't you just hook us back up? Well, not Dawn, but it's not like me or Faith are about to keel over."

The doctor made another stream of clicking noises but this time even Spike didn't dare remove the thermometer under his firm gaze. The vampire simply shook his head and waited for the doctor to reach out and take the thermometer from his mouth.

The intervening minutes seemed like hours to Buffy before the blood bag attached to her left arm was finally empty and the doctor hooked up another bag to her right arm for her to fill.

* * * * *

"Are you sure you two are related?" Bee called out to Spike even as she and Wes made their way back into the house. "It's like trying to party with a funeral director making conversation with that one... Talk about awkward silences... And we couldn't get them to shift until sun down."

"Wish we weren't, but that's the way things go. I just got all the charisma for the whole family."

"Oh-oh." Bee's and Wes's eyes were drawn to the slowly filling blood bag on Buffy's right as they entered the main room. "This can't be good."

"Well, I guess I wasn't doin' quite so good as I thought."

Giles explained about the doctor's reluctance to take more blood from either Dawn or Faith. Though the explanation was for the benefit of both Bee and Wes his attention seemed to be on Wes as he spoke and it appeared there was good reason.

Wes turned to the doctor. "Hook her up. She'll get the blood." The former watcher removed his jacket and started rolling up his shirt sleeve. "Go on, man," he urged as the doctor recovered from his surprise and began to go to work on Faith once more.

"W-Wes?" Faith stuttered when she realised what he was proposing. "I can't. I mean... there's no way I can take your blood."

"Really? And yet you had no problem spilling it on the floor?

What's past is past, Faith. I'm not saying it's forgiven and it's certainly not forgotten but it can be laid aside. Here and now you are trying to do something good, something which helps someone I think I could even call my friend and it would be churlish in the extreme if I were to hamper you in the attempt by withholding my cooperation."

The slayer looked ill at ease with his attempt to make peace as if she were more accustomed with having to fight to the last. Still, she bit back the barbs that sprang more readily to her tongue. "Wes, I know you're not doing it for me, but... well, thanks."

The girl's former watcher managed a strained smile and a nod of acknowledgement before, to his relief, the doctor ushered him upstairs.

* * * * *

The waiting seemed to go on forever. It occurred to Buffy that no one had ever said that slayer blood was a guaranteed cure, simply that it had been effective on at least two previous occasions. Spike had now drunk a total of ten pints of her, Faith's and Dawn's blood, but the last two pints that she and Faith had each given had seemed to have far less effect compared with the blood they had contributed before they received transfusions. It was as if the poison knew they were trying to cheat it.

Faith had had to receive two pints of Wes's blood in the end with the watcher in turn being given saline solution to top up his fluid levels. Still, they were all waiting to see if they had been successful. Spike had set aside the orbs for the third time and this time Buffy was wondering if she even dared to hope.

"Will you lot give over?" Spike snapped, his patience strained as everyone seemed to be nervously watching him, waiting for the first sign that even more blood was needed. He snatched up his coat from where it was draped over the back of Buffy's couch and headed for the back porch, taking his cigarettes and lighter from his pockets as he left.

Trapped, as much by her word to the vampire that she would play safe as the drip in her arm, Buffy twisted trying to see where he had gone, until she noticed Tara pick up the cat from her lap and pass it back to its owner. She gave Buffy a reassuring smile. "I'll make sure he's not about to collapse out there."

* * * * *

"Got one to spare?" the Wiccan asked as she joined the vampire in Wes's backyard.

"For you, love? 'Course I have... Not as Buffy would approve."

"We just better not tell her, then," the honey blonde answered with a mischievous smile.

Spike flipped open the top of the packet and with a practiced flick to its base made a cigarette rise up so that it was easier for Tara to pull it from the pack. Even before she had raised the cigarette to her lips the pack had disappeared into a pocket and Spike's Zippo was lit, ready for her to simply lean in towards its heat.

Spike used a leather clad arm to clear the encroaching undergrowth away from a wooden bench, making space for them both to sit down and for several minutes they simply sat in silence, Spike drawing on his cigarette as if it were a lifeline and Tara blowing delicate smoke rings.

Finally, the vampire spoke, his voice full of wonder. "How did I end up here, pet? How did I get to where there's a whole house full of people sitting worrying whether I'm going to be alright? When did I start calling a bloody watcher of all people my friend?"

Tara kept her eyes on the distant horizon and answered unhurriedly between draws on her cigarette. "I can't answer for the when part... but the how is simple. You earned it. Faith obviously has her own reasons, and I hear the doctor talked Bee into going on a date with his brother in lieu of payment but everybody else is there quite simply because they know that you wouldn't do any less for them."

"I was going to own the Hellmouth. I had all the vamps in town eatin' out of my hand and she was the only thing that stopped me."

Tara shrugged. "The Hellmouth's overrated. I can't imagine that it's very homey."

"Guess not. But more vamp-like than the bloody Waltons in there."

"Maybe, but why would you want to be another Dracula when he never even got the girl?"

"Too damn right Count Cliche didn't get my girl. An' he still owes me eleven quid."

Tara blew a last set of smoke rings before stubbing out her butt under her shoe and picking it up to put in the trash later. "Don't keep her waiting too long or she'll be pulling out those tubes and coming looking for you. She's not really the patient type."

Spike sighed, realising his own cigarette had already burnt down to the filter. "Right behind you, turtle dove."

* * * * *

When Tara and Spike returned to the living room, everyone except Buffy scrupulously kept their eyes on the TV screen which was now showing a classic film from the watcher's DVD collection. The vampire couldn't help but smile. Even his sensitivity about being observed was being catered to. He quietly lowered himself to the floor by Buffy's makeshift bed, letting his head drop back to rest against her side. He knew the gentle hand that played with his curls was also occasionally checking his forehead for telltale beads of perspiration but that was something he could easily live with for the soothing sensation that lulled him gently to sleep. Rogue soon capitalised on his passivity. His lap once more doubling for a pillow, she joined the slayer's vigil.

A second film followed the first and evening turned into night before, at last, the doctor gave the newly roused vampire the all clear and packed his bags. Buffy guiltily remembered her promise to call Angel, not to mention Lily and Anya but Tara effortlessly discerned her reluctance to leave Spike's side for even a minute.

"I'll call them. What do you want me to say?"

"Tell them he's okay. Ask Angel to stay tomorrow. Faith, there's a sofa across the street with your name on it if you want it."

The brunette slayer looked surprised but too tired to argue. "Sure, if you're okay with that."

"Tell Angel that Faith's staying here and we can deal with the rest tomorrow. For now, it's crisis over."

SECTION 5 - TURN! TURN! TURN!

((Pete Seeger) - The Byrds - 1965
Normally, I would try to pick part of the song that seemed most appropriate, but how do you cut any of this?

Chapter 5.01

By the time Buffy had found the spare sheets and settled Faith on the sofa in the living room, Spike was already vacating the bathroom, leaving the facilities free for her. The vampire had been unusually quiet and Buffy was concerned that perhaps the psychological effects of this latest situation were going to prove even more drastic than the physical ones. Yet, when she pulled the towel-clad vampire into a hug as they passed in the doorway their bond gave no hint of any anxiety, simply an overwhelming weariness.

"S'all yours, pet," he told her before he pressed a soothing kiss against her temple.

"Are we talking about the shower or that lily-white butt of yours?"

Even though it seemed to be all the platinum blond could do to keep his eyes open, his mouth couldn't help but curve up at one side. "Both, but unless you plan on washing the sheets tomorrow, I'd go for the shower first."

Buffy gave a mock frown. "Are you saying I'm stinky?"

"Only in that you smell like you've been crawling round in a drain and then wiped your hands on your hair."

"There go your chances of getting lucky tonight, Fang Face."

"An' I thought you gave the bint the sofa so she could hear exactly what she's never gonna experience first hand."

"No-o-o!" Buffy denied vehemently before colouring under the vamp's gaze. "Well... maybe... just a little bit." She wrinkled her nose and held up her thumb and forefinger millimetres apart. "Teeny, weeny, little bit."

Spike leaned in to gently brush his nose against Buffy's before lifting her hands from around his waist and turning her to face the bathroom once more. "Go on, love. I'll be waiting when you get back."

"You're sure?" Buffy asked with feigned sternness. "Last time you told me you weren't going anywhere you took a dive out of the window."

"That'd be interestin' dressed like this..."

"Yeah, well, unless you want your other girlfriend to sprain another leg you better not." Buffy nodded to where Rogue lay on the bed, chewing at the wrapping on her leg. "Between that and getting clubbed in the head, the poor thing's not doing so well."

"She gets to share a bed with the most gorgeous woman in the world. In my book that makes her the luckiest dog on the planet."

"You're biased, and I have a feeling she's more interested in the bed's male occupant, so you better go keep her company before she worries at that bandage enough that we have to put on that awful cone thing that the vet sent home with her."

"As you wish, sweetness."

Buffy wasn't sure if she imagined the brush of his lips against the tip of her nose before he turned and gave her a firm push in the direction of the shower. By the time she had removed her sweater, he had joined Rogue on the bed that was still smack in the middle of the room. Buffy only hoped that the protection circle that surrounded it would give all three of them a night free from any further evil influences.

* * * * *

By the time Buffy was convinced that she had rid herself of any subterranean-type smells she wasn't entirely surprised to discover than Spike had yet again succumbed to fatigue. He lay sprawled over most of the bed, face down and Rogue was managing to fill any gaps that he had left. His right leg was drawn up slightly in front of him and his cheek rested against his right forearm as if he'd started off lying on his left side and then just let himself fall over onto his front. Rogue lay lengthwise along one edge of the bed, drool from her soft, Great Dane-like jowls pooling on the pillow next to Spike's arm as she watched him with huge, dark chocolate eyes.

"So much for not needing to wash the sheets tomorrow," Buffy muttered before she turned out the lights and climbed under the covers.

She draped her naked body over Spike's like an extra blanket, pressing her face against his spine so that, with every breath she took, his fresh, clean scent reassured her of his continued presence. The fingers of her right hand sought out those of his and twined them together and her thigh followed the line of his before her foot reached out to rest on top of his shin. At no point was there an unnecessary space between them. If he so much as drew breath, she would be aware of it. It was entirely subconscious, but she wasn't taking any chances on his not being there when she woke.

She needn't have worried. Just like he had promised he was waiting for her.

* * * * *

The gently undulating ground was draped in a carpet of pale blue-violet as far as she could see. Almost every inch of ground that wasn't home to a tree, the first leaves of spring barely formed on their boughs, had been overrun by the mass of bluebells. The air was fresh but the sun shone from a clear sky so that she suspected soon it would warm them. Spike turned, walking backwards on the narrow track that ran alongside a shallow stream so that he could watch her reactions as he led her hand in hand through the woodland.

"Is this place real? Or did you make it up?" she asked, her voice betraying her wonder and her face splitting into an enchanted smile as she caught a glimpse of a red squirrel darting along a branch and into a hole in the trunk of a tree.

"This, pet, is home. Was home. It's probably all been bulldozed now to make way for a couple of hundred identical houses not big enough for Snow White's mates to live in, but this is it how it was when I was growing up." The vampire looked down at his Doc Martens as if embarrassed. "I wanted to take you somewhere I had never been with Dru. Somewhere special but without any of that baggage."

"So where exactly does this rabbit run we're walking on go?"

The vamp gave her a mischievous grin, lapis eyes dancing with light. "To the pool where I used to go skinny dipping. Of course, the company back then wasn't anything like as enticing."

"It'll be freezing."

"Scared?"

"As if!"

"Well, I suppose, if you want to, you can. Personally, I'd wait for summer, though. Bluebell season's just a bit early in the year. I was thinking of a blanket and a bottle or two of champagne by the water's edge."

"Beast!"

"To your Beauty." He picked her up in his arms lifting her so that she had to look down to see his face as he spun her round and round till her laughter sent all the birds, of whose song she had only dimly been aware, flapping into the air in alarm.

She swayed slightly on her feet as he set her down, laughing with her for a second before with a quirk of his scarred eyebrow he said, "Race you!" and took off along the path.

Milliseconds later, still light-headed, she took off in pursuit, their black leather coats fanning out behind them as they ran. The track crested a shallow rise and Spike stopped abruptly, turning to watch Buffy's face as she caught the first glimpse of the sun dappled pond... if she didn't just run straight over him to win the race without even noticing the scenery.

She pulled up just in time to avoid colliding with him, her eyes drinking in the vista that swamped her senses. Then one of them closed the narrow gap and his lips met hers. Strong arms scooped her off her feet, and he carried her over the familiar terrain without ever lifting his gaze from her face. Sinking to his knees to lay her gently on the softest of blankets, he bent over her once more, reclaiming her lips with a tenderness of which she would once have thought him incapable.

Tensing momentarily, Buffy pushed him up slightly and tilted her head on one side. "Can you hear that?"

The vampire strained unsuccessfully to make out what she was referring to. "What, pet?"

The slayer giggled. "The sound of all our clothes disappearing."

Spike looked down and sure enough both he and Buffy were now naked. "Minx!"

"Well, you picked the scenery you wanted. My turn to pick mine, and I like it pale..." She traced the column of his neck with a languorous stroke of her finger tip, letting it drift over the imprint of her teeth until he gasped for unneeded breath. "Chiselled like a statue by Michelangelo..." The tip of her tongue peeked out briefly to tease him before reappearing to trace the hollow under one cheek bone as the fingers of each hand followed the sharply delineated muscles of his upper arms. "But far better equipped." She placed a playful peck on the tip of his nose. "There should always be at least a hint of blue." Her lips brushed so softly against each eyelid in turn that they seemed to tingle for seconds after he reopened his eyes. "And, of course, for an optimal experience, the scene is best..." With slayer speed she flipped them both over, so that she straddled him, the partially erect length of his dick, brushing against her hot, wet folds as she slowly shifted back and forth. "...Viewed from above."

Her tongue swept over her lips to moisten them and for the vampire it was the final straw. His head dropped back with a groan, his hands fisting into the blanket on either side of him as he succumbed to the sensations she caused. Back... and forth. Back... and forth. Slowly she tortured him again and again, until every inch from his foreskin to his balls was drenched in her fragrant juices. His hands stilled her motion at the apex of her movement, and her eyes searched his face for a fraction of a second before he slid down through her legs.

"Stay with me, baby," he pleaded as he slid first one arm then the other between her thighs, changing his grip on her hips as he did so. "Concentrate on us, on both of us, here together." Then, he lowered her lips to his. His tongue tasted her strawberry sweetness, its tip collecting pooled drops of salty fluid, fragranced with his own pre cum from her swollen flesh. When he flattened his tongue to give a broad lick that spread her open above him she gasped his name and he could feel her thighs tremble at either side of his head. More than that, he could taste her desire, her anticipation and most important of all her love. His fingers gripped her hips more firmly holding her in position over him as he sought out and found the bundle of nerves that pulsed with the excitement in her blood. What had begun as a tremor magnified to an earthquake as his tongue circled the centre of her passion. Her upper body tipped forward and she locked her elbows to prevent herself from collapsing entirely. His lips closed around the bud and he sucked rhythmically at it as if he were a nursing infant infusing each touch with devotion and awe at her perfection.

"Ahh... Ahh..." Buffy began to moan incoherently in rhythm with his lips' movements but when his teeth latched on, gripping just tight enough that his tongue could flick over her clit like the wing beats of a hummingbird the moans merged into one. Her determination matched her euphoria as she screamed his name, struggling to remain with him as her orgasm shuddered through her. It wasn't that which held her there, though. It was her fear that if she let him go, even for second, then he would slip through her fingers like so much silt in the bottom of a storm drain.

* * * * *

"Shhh, honey... Shh." Spike pulled the flailing slayer into a hug so tight that she was forced to stop beating her fists against his chest. "Shhh. I didn't mean to scare you."

"I watched you die. How am I meant to not be scared? How can I be in this place where I'm meant to deal with these things and ignore the fact I watched you burn?"

Spike held her tight and put everything he could into their bond, trying to reassure her. "It wasn't me, baby. I know it doesn't help but it wasn't me. It was just the bad guys messin' with that pretty head of yours."

"But it could have been, you selfish prick. Who gave you the right to give up on us? Who gave you the right to walk out on us? What if he hadn't brought you round? What if he hadn't picked a fight? What if he'd just dumped you in a corner and left you there unconscious until you burned up like so much dry grass in a brush fire? Do you know how much I hate you right now?"

"I'd say 'round about as much as you love me," the vampire answered solemnly.

"You nearly died..." Buffy hicupped through her tears. "...And you never even gave me a chance to help, or to talk you 'round. You would have just been gone. No goodbye, no body even, no way to ever know for sure what had happened to you. I hate this. I hate being scared like this. I hate that you make me feel this way."

"I'm sorry, Buffy. I wish I could take the easy way out and tell you it was the poison, that I wasn't thinking straight, that it won't happen again and that might be partly it, but I could never choose to harm you or our Bitty Buffy. I'd make that same call whether I was hallucinating or sober as an alkie with a ten year chip. I thought I was a danger to Dawn, so I got myself away from her..."

"Is that meant to make me feel better?"

"No." Spike stroked his girl's hair as he responded to her bitter question. "It's meant to be the truth. I can't tell you that I'll never ever go. All I can say is that I'll never want to. You are my whole world; you an' Bit an' Glinda. I just couldn't live with myself ...or the other two, if I hurt one of you three. It still leaves you with way less to be scared of than I've got...

Don't you think I know that sooner rather than later you'll make that same choice you made on that damn tower. There's... You can count the people I care enough to die for on your tiny, little fingers and have some left over, but then, I'm basically a selfish git. There's a whole damn world waitin' for you to make that damn sacrifice... And sooner or later you will because that's who you are. That's the girl I fell in love with an' I can't do nothin' but hold onto you like I never want to let you go and hope that before that day comes we make every minute we have together count." The fingers, that had soothed her, pushed into her tresses instead of gliding over them and he used the grip to tilt back her head so that her teary eyes looked into his own, forcing her to acknowledge the same fear there. "Every... damn... minute," he whispered before he pulled her to him, his lips staking their claim on hers with a forcefulness that was inescapable, but then her desperation was every bit as great as his own.

There was no finesse, no foreplay, no tenderness or sweetness. Every nerve ending sang with unadulterated need and instinct immediately took over. If not for their earlier lovemaking, his savage thrusts, each one driving her body inches across the blanket at her back, would have ripped and torn at her insides. She planted her feet flat and arced up under him but not to lessen her pain or to give a smoother angle of penetration. It was as if she were compelled to meet each primal stroke with a ferocity to match his own. It was too intense to last. As soon as shortness of breath forced the slayer to yank her head away from her demon lover with his questing tongue and razor sharp fangs, his teeth found a home in her neck and with a howl of pain and unbearable pleasure Buffy followed suit.

His blood filled her mouth as the spasms of her muscles milked his seed from him and she almost gagged before she managed to swallow it and free her cries into the clear blue morning. With every push his semen spilled into her but his shaft continued to ram home as if it were made of iron. Her nails raked the skin from his back as orgasm built on orgasm and still he moved inside her, hitting every pleasure-giving spot over and over, her clit crushed between them with each momentous drive. His fangs stayed locked in her aching flesh giving ecstasy and exquisite pain in equal measure.

Minutes passed and her animalistic cries filled the air between gasps as the impact of each meeting drove the air from her lungs. Her knees finally gave way and she knew she had reached the absolute limit of her endurance. Again she bit into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, only just holding back the instinct to rip a chunk from his flesh. She had to use all her strength to lift his head so that with an aching kiss she could reopen the tears in her tongue against his fangs. Ripping into his own tongue as he pulled away, he drew the bleeding muscle over the teeth marks in her neck even as her actions mirrored his.

"Mine!" Each howled their dominion over the other.

Both gasped for air as Spike rolled them so that Buffy was on top and the hammering of her pulse finally began to slow to a near normal rate. "Yours," Spike whispered in her ear before nipping at its lobe with a demonic incisor.

It was several more seconds before Buffy managed to accede to his claim with a breathy sigh. "Always yours, Will. Always."

The transition from dream to waking was abrupt, the jagged boundary marked by jumbled visions of the cerise-haired girl being pursued through a maze of nighttime streets and alleys, with only the German names and street signs providing any clue to her location.

Buffy's eyes sought out Spike's even as her movement made her painfully aware that the vampire was still fully erect inside her.

"This one's still alive," she whispered.

"Until tonight... I know."

Chapter 5.02

Buffy sighed and somewhat gingerly began to raise herself off Spike's erection only for the vampire's arms to tighten around her, holding her to him in a grip not quite tight enough to hurt but too firm for her to break without a lot more effort than she was currently in any state to expend.

"An' where the bloody hell do you think you're going, pet?" he asked.

"Spi-i-ike!" Her tone betrayed irritation at the very least, if he had needed any aural clues, and made Rogue, who was now curled in one corner at the foot of the bed, open a tired and slightly swollen eye. "We have to tell Wes and Giles. If they get the council on it straight away maybe they can get her out of there before anything happens. There can't be that many wannabe slayers with pink hair."

"Right, so we tell them." Spike gave an evil grin and reached over to pick up Buffy's cell phone from the bedside table. "Just because we're goin' to get the former wankers out of their cozy, little, lonely beds doesn't mean we can't stay right... where... we... are..." Each of his last four words was accompanied by a roll of his hips that set off whole new batches of sensation in the nerve endings of Buffy's internal walls, just when the slayer was becoming accustomed to the almost comforting ache of bruised muscles being stretched around him.

"God!" she gasped. "Is that thing ever going to quit?"

"After ten pints of slayer blood? With my sexy lady right here? Not any time soon, kitten... but I figure it could take a rest long enough for you to make a couple of phone calls... on the proviso that you let me shuffle my butt out of this rather large wet patch before it starts lookin' like a prune. An' you promised. We were lyin' on the floor, just over there somewhere, as I recall... somethin' about gladly spendin' all day..." The vampire waved a hand in the general direction of where the couple had been when Tara had come into the room that morning. "Now c'm'ere."

Buffy couldn't help but smile as she found the number for Giles' hotel and allowed Spike's arms to pull her back down to him so that her cheek rested against his shoulder before he squirmed his way over to the very edge of the bed.

"Giles has gone back to his hotel, right?"

"I believe so, love. Think Bee was gonna drop him off on her way home an' since I heard her screech her way out of her parkin' spot just before I..." The vampire was silenced by a fingertip pressed to his lips.

"Rupert Giles' room, please."

Slayer and vamp waited while they were put through to the correct room and then waited even longer before they got a response.

"Buffy? Is that you?"

"And who else calls you at one thirty in the a.m., Giles?"

"Who indeed? Though I wouldn't put it past dear old Quentin at the moment."

"Actually we kinda need you to put the boot on the other foot." The slayer frowned as if trying to work out whether what she had said made any sense. "We had another vision and-." Buffy paused when she heard Giles draw breath for one of his lec.tures.

"I really hope that you and Spike have not been so irresponsible as to indulge in blood play when you had donated over half your blood supply to the... man tonight already."

"Giles! Haven't you realised by now that Spike would never consciously do anything that would endanger me in any way?" Of course, there wasn't a lot either of them could do when they both did what came naturally while they were sound asleep. "Call it a 'slayer' dream if it makes you any happier. Just get on the phone to whatever you guys have instead of an embassy in the fatherland. And why is Germany the fatherland and England's the motherland? Is it cause England's got more women? Or..." Buffy decided that perhaps impugning the masculinity of the English nation as a whole was not a wise choice considering she was currently impaled by a vampire who just might feel he had a point to prove. "Anyway, proto-slayer, pink hair as in fuchsia, kinda rock/biker chick thing going on with the major boots. Somewhere in Germany, can't say where 'cause we didn't get a decent look at the skyline or any landmarks or anything-."

"Or Austria or Switzerland or any of them other places as stick up street signs in kraut."

Buffy frowned. "I'm sure 'kraut' isn't-."

"Just give the old man his deadline, pet, and let him get on with it."

"Deadline?"

"She was killed, Giles. I mean she will be killed if the council doesn't get her out of there. The bringers will have closed in on her. Don't ask me how. I mean, I guess it's one of those dream things, but we both knew it's going to be tonight."

"Which tonight? Tonight here or tonight in Europe?"

Spike muttered under his breath as he did some mental arithmetic. "Nine or ten hours ahead so call it 11.30, not too many German speaking countries near the equator so say May-time you're lookin' at maybe eight or nine before it starts gettin' dark." He took the phone from Buffy's grasp. "Reckon you've got about ten hours, Watcher. Let's just hope that it's one the Wankers have already got their beady little eyes on 'cause I kinda liked the look of this one. She's got a bit of fire in her. Be a shame if it gets put out before it comes to anythin'. So, maybe once you set things goin' officially, you can ring round any of your old mates as might have pulled a tour of duty over there. We'll get Junior Watcher to do the same."

"And if she'd been some mousy type in a cardigan and sensible shoes? Then, you would be quite happy for her to die, is that it?" Giles asked.

"What? I was just sayin'... We told you, didn't we? What the hell else do you want us to do? It's not like there's any point us rushin' for the nearest airport. When all's said and done we don't know her. Chances are we never will. People die every day. It's what you mortals do. It's why we're not meant to get tied up with you lot in the first place. So what if I'm not gonna cry myself to sleep over it? Just make like ET an' phone home, Rupert." With an irritated sigh Spike stabbed at the button that ended the call and passed the phone back over to Buffy. "When you ring Wes, I'm not even here, right? Ten hours tell him, maybe twelve tops..."

It took Buffy maybe five minutes to repeat most of her earlier phone call with Wes on the line, by the end of which time Spike's lower lip was sticking out in an outrageous, little-boy pout. Buffy couldn't resist the urge to grab it between her teeth, tugging at it for a second or two before she let it go and looked down at him, her eyes glittering with laughter. "What's up? Did the big boys steal your marbles?"

"No-o-o," Spike answered almost hesitantly, his head tilted forward so that he watched her through his lashes as if he was shy, but nothing could disguise the laughter in his cobalt eyes. "But the nasty watcherses went and ruined the mood so you didn't get to enjoy your favourite bit... so... way I figure it..." The vampire looked her straight in the eyes now, with no further attempt to hide his desirous stare. "...You've got about five seconds to work out how you want it before I screw you right back into that nice warm happy place all over again."

With a shriek from the slayer and a pained wince from the vampire beneath her, Buffy threw herself from the bed, dancing toward the end of the room. "Oh, no you don't."

Spike gave a growl and set off in pursuit, reaching the connecting door to the bathroom just after Buffy clicked it shut and slipped the bolt. "I need to pee," she almost whined through the wood. "There isn't enough room for you and all those cups of tea you English guys kept making me drink."

Spike backtracked to the bedroom door as he heard her matching actions to her words. He listened intently, filtering out the sounds of Tara moving around in her room, to ensure that Dawn's even breathing indicated that she was asleep. Then, checking either way along the landing, he made a dash for the bathroom's other door, only for Faith to appear at the top of the stairs when he was still several feet short of his destination. He immediately slowed to a walk from his previous slightly awkward run. He could have pretended not to notice how Faith's attention was fixated on a certain portion of his anatomy. Instead, when she did finally lift her gaze toward his face he just raised an eyebrow in her direction, the coolness in his eyes making it obvious that he couldn't care less for the blatant admiration in her own, before continuing on his way, letting her see the back view of what she was missing as well.

"I'd either go back downstairs and cross your legs, or go see if you can find a convenient bush in next door's garden, pet," he drawled without bothering to look back. "...Because this bathroom is about to be busy for a very long and preferably private time."

When he opened the door Buffy was still sitting on the toilet a hand clamped over her mouth to stop her from laughing out loud. "You are evil!" she finally managed to hiss as Spike slid home the bolt and swaggered inexorably toward her, his penis swaying like a charmer's snake as he moved. Buffy grabbed a handful of toilet tissue, trying to get herself cleaned up before he reached her but the slick fluid that coated her thighs was resistant to her efforts.

Spike smirked. "Wouldn't even try, pet. There's gonna be a damn sight more where that came from before the night is through..." He licked his lips as he came to stand with his feet either side of her own. "And there's better ways to clean it up." He bent over, fingertips making Buffy shiver in anticipation as they slid over her inner thigh before he gently grasped her knees, spreading them open as he was about to kneel before her. Instead her gentle whisper told him to stand up and come closer.

"Buffy?" The vampire tilted his head on one side, clearly puzzled.

She reached up to stroke his cheek as she answered. "Let me take care of you, Will. For one thing I'm still kinda 'sore and limpy'." Then, she had to rush to clarify when she saw the look of concern that appeared instantly on the vampire's face. "...In a very good way... and nothing that's gonna stop me making the most of having you fit and well again, just maybe a break for half an hour or so wouldn't be a bad thing. Besides, our little eavesdropper's already heard me screaming plenty. Time she heard you for a change." Buffy didn't bother to say any more, she just turned her attention to what was right in front of her face. She slid swollen lips over the head of his shaft, running her tongue over the shallow groove that, after only her words, had already held the first thick drops of his pre cum, before raising her head once more.

She lifted his hands in her own, placing them at either side of her head. "Guide me, baby. You set the pace. Help me make it good for you. Tell me everything you want."

The vamp tilted her head back so he could look into those hazel-green eyes that he adored. "I will, honey, I will... only these things can get intense... maybe even hit the boundary on what's safe so the first thing we gotta do is make sure that we've got a signal for if you want me to let go or stop whatever I'm doing. So, you have any problems or you're uncomfortable with anything, you just slap me on the leg." He leant forward to kiss her tenderly, his fingers tangling in her hair, before he straightened up again.

Their contact was filled with love and encouragement. "Just start off like you normally would, baby. You know how to make me moan. You know you do. An' a little surprise is as good as anything. Just follow your instincts... Tease me. Make me beg."

Buffy looked up with puckish smile, keeping her eyes on his face as she used the very tip of her tongue to trace along one edge of the ridge that ran up the front of his penis. She started midway up, just at the height her mouth had happened to be at and then stretched her body upwards, tilting her head back further to follow the line up to where it met his foreskin before tracing it all the way back down to the shaft's base. A deceptively delicate hand reached out to cup his balls as she blew softly on the damp skin from a distance of about half an inch working her way back up again, having to occasionally move back as his cock seemed to twitch toward her of its own volition.

"Oh, Christ, Buffy." He started out half way between a whisper and a groan as the slayer repeated her slow torture, tracing the other side of the vein. He couldn't take his eyes from hers, and she knew that that eye contact fed his desire at least as much if not more than anything else she did. This was just a start though. He was still trying not to make too much noise, but by the time she let him come, he wouldn't care if they heard him in Dutton.

When she let him come... She reached behind her, picking up a ponytail band that she had left sitting on top of the tank one time when she got ready for bed. Spike's eyes widened with surprise as he realised what she was about to do. He winced in discomfort as she pulled it tight enough to get it to circle his shaft just below his foreskin for a second time, far tighter than would have been really safe for a human, before rolling it slowly downward until it encircled the very base of his cock.

"You could have just told me not to come in your mouth, pet," the vamp said softly, though the teasing look in his eye let her know that he knew, sooner or later she would live up to her promise to let him do whatever he wanted.

She licked away the milky fluid that had adorned the tip of his cock, pressing her tongue into the crease there and swirling it slightly as if she could make it open out further before she slid her lips slowly down over, taking him in. One hand still caressed the sacks that seemed already to be almost ready to burst. Her other hand first stroked the lower part of his penis and then, as she began to raise and lower her head, she used it to grip the shaft, pumping slowly up and down to stimulate the parts her lips had yet to reach and keeping up that same rhythm with her hand, even when she returned once more to using her tongue to trace the groove under his glans.

Spike's hands gripped her head more firmly, but only because his legs were no longer as steady as they had been. Buffy grinned and then took him slowly in once more. This time when his dick reached the back of her mouth she concentrated on relaxing her throat and little by little she swallowed him down, her lips reaching just a little deeper every time. Somehow, she didn't think that Giles would want to know that slayer muscle control could help overcome the gag reflex. Spike succumbed to the almost involuntary rocking of his hips, easing into her throat in time with her own movements.

"Remember, baby, one slap. Just one."

Instead, Buffy slid her hands around to clasp his butt, making his next thrust deeper and harder than he had intended.

She was rewarded with his loudest moan to date and the blond vamped out. As she realised, her pride and glee fed straight through their bond.

"God, Buffy." The vampire groaned, realising that any physical signal was redundant. He began to thrust deeper and faster into her mouth with every stroke, his hands tangled in her hair to guide her head and instead of the distaste or awkwardness he had worried about, all he could feel was her triumph at how she made him lose control.

"God, Buffy, let me come, ple-ease, baby. Let me come in your throat, in your mouth. Let me come all over your tits, so I can taste it on you when I kiss you..."

She reached up and pulled his left hand from her hair, guiding it toward his dick before tapping on his taloned nail. The vampire gladly used it to slice through the constrictive band, his seed streaming into Buffy's throat almost instantaneously as he bellowed her name. She pulled away slightly so that his semen spilled into her mouth and then leaned back and pulled his head down to hers for a deep, searching kiss as the last of the pearly fluid spilled over her skin. Without breaking the kiss, Spike scooped her into his arms and carried her back to their bed.

It didn't go unnoticed that the vamp made sure that he was the one who ended up lying in the damp patch they had made earlier and it wasn't that he had ever been anything but solicitous of her needs, yet somehow she felt that he considered that she'd given him a deeply precious gift. Though she hadn't thought it possible, it was as if he somehow cared even more deeply for her than before. She could almost believe that the bond was visible in the air around them, a shimmer of violet and gold, and if reading his feelings seemed effortless then surely that just meant that he couldn't help but be aware of her own contentment as he licked her skin clean.

"Spike?" she finally summoned the curiosity to ask. "What's the big deal? We've done other things that are more taboo than that."

"The deal, big eyes, is trust. The deal is you putting your life, almost, in my hands and believing that no matter how carried away I might get, if you gave the signal or showed any sort of distress, that I would stop. The deal is feeling your joy when I vamped out instead of being made to feel like the monster somehow makes me less than a man. The deal is you wanting to do whatever it took to give me pleasure, even though until you actually did it, you weren't so much expecting to enjoy it as thinking it was sort of your turn. The big deal, my beautiful girl, is you."

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