Title: A Lesson Why

Author: Wicked Insanity

Pairing: Spike/Buffy

Feedback: Is adored at WickedInsanity@cox-internet.com

Rating: R/light NC-17

Summary:: After Riley leaves in Into the Woods Buffy’s hurting. She goes to Spike for answers.

Archive: Any, just let me know.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, this fic is for enjoyment and not infringement, so don't sue me Joss.

Authors Notes: Me being my biggest critic, I don’t feel like this is my best work, so I’ll probably end up reworking it some time. Let me know.

* * * * *

Buffy felt lost. Xander had been right. Riley had been the guy that came along once in a lifetime, and she’d let the opportunity slip away. Again.

It was her. She had been the one to push him away. She’d pushed him to go find his kicks some place else, she’d kept him at bay until she’d needed him. Until it had been too late.

Vampires. One of the things they’d had in common had been killing the demons and he’d ended up in one’s arms, fueling the very hunger that she tried to stop every night. No matter how he’d denied it, Buffy knew that it all went back to Angel.

Little did the commando know that what her and the vampire used to have had nothing to do with blood.

Her mind kept going back to Riley, sitting there on the floor with that vampire whore, face contorted with pain and something else. Something she didn’t want to acknowledge or even think about. He was getting off on it and Buffy was trying her best to put the thought out of her mind.

That didn’t mean that she hadn’t understood it to some point.

The first time she’d been bitten, she’d been too scared for her life to think about anything past dying.

The second, it’d been because the man -or vampire- she loved had been dying, but she’d felt something past the pain as she lay on the mansion floor, writhing beneath him.

The third. . . she could barley even remember everything that had happened. The whole thrall thing Dracula had going was just that. Thrall. Not only the entire night, but the entire couple of days he was around was hazy. Xander could have attested to that.

What she couldn’t understand, is why Riley done it to her.

Or why she even had to find out about it.

She needed to know.

That was the main reason she stood outside of Spike’s crypt at one in the morning, pondering how she should enter. She wasn’t enthusiastic enough to feel like busting the door open, but on the other hand, it was the only way she would be taken seriously. Lifting a leg, her boot came down hard against the wood, the door in turn flying open with a loud bang against the wall behind it.

Buffy really didn’t even know why she had come there yet. She could only hope it would come to her soon.

She hadn’t cried yet. Hadn’t even had the mind to cry yet. Features as firm and determined as ever, the blonde stepped through the doorway and slammed the door shut behind her. Walking further into the dim room, her eyes adjusted to the candle light situated at strategic corners of the crypt. That’s when she saw him scrambling to stand from the couch where he’d been lounging. He went for his shirt on the back of the couch, then saw who it was and tossed the black garment to the side. Square over his heart was a scab that looked like it had recently been a nasty looking wound.

Spike just knew he was going to be staked -again- in a matter of minutes. "S-Slayer. What are you doing here?"

She kept walking until she was down in the center of the main room, hands resting on either hip as she came up to him. "Why did you do it?"

"Do wha-.." Stopping with the look she gave him, Spike knew there was no reason to ask, or drag things out. "You needed to know, Buffy."

"No, I didn’t. What I didn’t know wasn’t going to hurt me!"

"Oh . Right. Buffy didn’t want to know that her boy toy was getting suck jobs from various vampire tramps. That’s classic. Might as well have been sharing needles with all of the boys she was sucking on before Mr. Commando."

That was obviously something she didn’t want to hear, because as soon as the last word left his lips, he was rewarded with a firm crack across the jaw that sent him stumbling a few feet to the side. With a low growl, he turned back to her. "Don’t want to hear what I have to say? It isn’t like you need to worry. I doubt it’ll harm you, being the slayer and all."

"How long did you know this was going on?"

"Since last night. I don’t exactly make it a point to hang outside your window and watch everything Finn did when he wasn’t in your bed. Sorry, but that was your job." So half of it was true. The other half? Well, he didn’t think she knew anything about his hangout on Revello drive.

He doubted her finding out would be all that healthy for him, either.

Shaking her head, she looked down to the ground. "I just don’t get it." Her tone had lowered considerably. "I don’t get what he found in that hell hole that he couldn’t find with me."

"I’m surprised that you don’t understand it. Not like nothing’s ever gotten a taste of you before."

"It wasn’t-.. It was never like that."

Eyebrow raised, he lowered his head a bit, trying to catch her eyes. "It was the Master, isn’t that right?" Off of her little nod, he continued. "Well, there’s the difference. He was trying to kill you."

She looked up to him with what could have been classified as the most intense look he’d ever seen her give him. "Don’t you think that that might be part of it? Knowing that it’s dangerous?"

"I guess it could be, for some people. Doubt it was for white bread Iowa USA, though. Doesn’t seem like the type to get off on the prospect of death." As she took a step up to him, dangerously close, he continued. "Never know about a persons unexpected depths, though." His eyes narrowed, watching her closely as she looked up to him and then reached up and pulled her hair to one side with a hand.

"I want to know. I want to know why he did it. I want to know what he felt."

"What’re you proposing here, Slayer?" He thought he had an idea of what she meant, but his brain told him he was insane.

"You know what I mean. Bite me. Show me. You know you’ve always wanted it."

"I do but... I-I can’t."

"What is this? Spike get’s a conscious? Give me a break."

"Chip."

"Oh." Needless to say by the expression she gave him, she hadn’t even been thinking about his handicap. With another moments thought, she continued, a little hopefulness in her voice. "Not even if they want you to hurt them? That’s pretty lame. Or do you not know for sure?" She searched the vampire’s face, her own a mask of obvious pain that betrayed the sarcastic tone she had taken. Even that disappeared as she went serious. "I want you to hurt me, Spike. I want to feel something other than. . . this."

"I’m not sure that’ll work. . . Psh. What am I saying?! I bite you, the next thing I feel will be me falling to the ground. As dust. Not my cup of tee."

"I’m asking for this. The only way I’m going to stake you is if I wake up no-pulse-girl."

"And you trust me enough to not kill you?"

"I trust that you don’t want to get staked." With that, he smirked a little, then went serious. Buffy Summers was asking him to bite her? It was worth the try to test her theory of the loophole around the chip nestled in his brain. He wasn’t going to waste anymore time.

"Your runnin’ the show, Buffy. How do you wanna do this?"

Her arms went slack at her sides as she moved so they were mere inches apart. "Take what you want. As long as I’m still alive afterward, I don’t care." He realized for the first time how hurt she sounded. Broken, even. The odd thing was, for a moment, he felt as if he were about to take advantage and that it was wrong for him to go on, but after another second, the demon part of him kicked in and vulnerability didn’t matter. A slayer was offering up her blood. Buffy was offering her blood. It wasn’t something he was about to pass up. Hell, he doubted that he could have.

Taking a moment to think it out, Spike reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him, his other hand moving around the back of her head and curling around the other side, by her ear. Slowly, he pulled her head to the side, baring her creamy throat. Suddenly, he had the urge to pray that it would work. That rough visage took over, his light blue eyes turning a glowing golden color as his tongue shot out to lap at her artery. "Just try and relax, luv. You tense up, it may fool the chip."

". . . Don’t hold back. Don’t be gentle."

Her words sent a shot straight down his spine. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought he was in another one of his fantasies. This moment wasn’t all that far away from a dream he’d had at one time. Without warning, the demon took over and he pulled her head further to the side and sunk his fangs into her flesh as if it were butter. Giving a firm jerk of his blond skull, he violently deepened the bite with a sickening crunch. If he wanted, he could have lifted her off of the ground by the hold his jaw had on her.

She gave no struggle, merely let out a forced, pained whimper which probably drove him on even more. Seeing the slayer act helpless was a major turn on in itself. Another second later, his jaw loosened and the first flow of that precious crimson flowed past his lips and across his tongue, sending jolts through the both of them along with a mutual moan of. . . pleasure. . ? He hoped like hell that that’s what it was to her. It heightened the chances of him ever being able to get another taste. No matter either way, though. He wasn’t going to stop now. He drew deeply from her for the first couple times, letting the coppery twang coat his tongue and throat completely before slowing the flow to a seep. Wouldn’t hurt to draw it out. Her blood was amazing, just like he remembered from years before.

An aphrodisiac if ever there was one.

Pulling her tightly against him, he didn’t try to hide the growing bulge pressing into her lower stomach. In fact, he was just about willing to bet that she was soaking her little panties from the experience. He knew enough to know that violence did it for a lot of slayers and as high and mighty as she liked to act at times, she was no different. Her power still came from wherever the rest of their power came and it was dark. His arm fell more loosely around her waist, moving lower to graze against her ass. Heaven. She was as close to heaven as he’d ever get.

After what seemed like an hour to Buffy, mere moments to Spike, she fell softer against him, weaker. He knew from years of experience how much someone could lose before certain things happened, weakness, death, the point where they could be turned. . . He guessed that he could take a few more deep pulls without hurting her, probably more since she was the slayer, but he didn’t take that chance. Yet. His large hand widened over her behind and took a handful of her flesh, pulling her closer and up as he ground against the apex of her thighs, eliciting a little moan from the girl that couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than lust. Those cold lips sealed tightly against her neck as he deepened the pull once more, twice, taking long gulps of the coppery fluid.

When he let out a low, animalistic growl, that’s when she stilled against him completely, which made him pull away a little prematurely. Spike didn’t realize what was wrong until her breathing immediately started coming in short little gasps followed by her small form going into a tremble.

Buffy had come from a vampire’s bite.

Her eyes were tightly shut and her little hands hand wound behind his bare back to claw at his shoulder blades the entire time. He could feel the slight pain now that he was thinking a bit more clearly, but any harm she’d done was quickly knitting back with the aid of her blood. Slayer blood. Seeing a trail of dark red trickling down her neck, Spike bent forward again and placed several long, languid laps up her throat to seal the wound. That demonic face slid away and he could tell she was worse for the wear, but wouldn’t have put it past her to run out because of the knowledge he now had against her, so to speak.

Hard on still raging, he tried to ignore it for now as both hands slipped up to her forearms and held her there, pulling back far enough to look at her. "I guess the chip has a loophole..."

Before she could open her mouth to protest the current position, he continued. "You should get some rest, luv. Lounge on the sofa for a little while before you head home." Seeing the conflict in her eyes, he went on. "I’ll go downstairs if you’d feel more comfortable."

With a moments pause, she nodded slowly, and he guided her over to the couch, moving the pillows to one side for her to lean on. He had no blanket, so he just left her like that, backing up a foot or two then looking down to her. Nodding once with a tight lipped smile, he went to turn, but was stopped as what sounded like a sob came from her throat. His suspicion was confirmed when he turned back to see her curling up, her hands going to her face as she shook.

"He’s gone." Spike quietly went back to her, kneeling in front of the couch as she slid to sit up, her own eyes cast downward. "And I let him go."

"If he was foolish enough to let someone like you go, then he doesn’t deserve you, Buffy. Don’t you see that?"

Sniffing back her sobs, she shook her head. "No, it was me. I didn’t love him like he wanted."

"And who’s problem is that?"

"Mine. Because I wanted to love him that much, but I wasn’t willing to put enough effort into it."

"I’m not sure I follow here. . . He goes out and get’s himself bitten, he leaves your bed to go to them at night and it’s you that didn’t love him enough? The Buffy I know wouldn’t put up with that only to blame it on herself."

Dark, drowning green depths met impossibly light blue and she raised up off of the cushions, making him inch back on his heel, only to rise another moment later to face her. "You don’t know me. And I’m not going to listen to relationship counseling from you of all people. You did what I asked, end of story. I feel fine, goodbye." She turned and headed for the door.

For once, Spike hadn’t seen the severe change in mood coming. Should have expected it, though.

"Summers. . ."

Spinning, she glared at him, fire in her eyes and a seriousness that surprised even him. "If you brag about this to anyone, I will stake you. Got it?"

"It’s our little secret, slayer." Spike felt too damn good from the new blood coursing through his veins to argue with her. Besides, he would keep that promise. It was their little secret, but he wasn’t about to let her forget it anytime soon. Spike had every intention of tasting her again.

As he watched her black-clad figure disappear from view as she slammed the door behind her, Spike knew he had to go after her, spend another night lurking in the shadows as he followed her home, and like every night, it was to keep her safe.

Just like he knew that how he’d acted in the last hour, listening to her talk about Riley, stopping the bite before he’d hurt her, letting her go, could only mean one thing. He really did love the Slayer.

. . . And he would probably end up burning in his own hell because of her.

The End. . . I think.