Dreams and Desotos by bloodshedbaby
Chapter #11 - 16- NEW CHAPTER
This is a new chapter for this long neglected wip.
thank you to Spikeskat for betaing!

Chapter 16

Spike drank longer than he would have liked, the knowledge that his blood would be more healing for Angel with every drop that he took enough to keep his fangs embedded in her flesh far beyond his usual stopping point.

But better for what? he couldn't help but ask himself.

Ignoring his own throbbing need, Spike took pleasure in knowing that this blood sacrifice Buffy was making for her ex-lover came with its own brand of fulfillment; his jeans sure to be damp from the ferocity with which his girl had come after grinding mightily against his thigh.

And that was a bit of all right.

Especially in light of the struggle he was most likely going to be facing in getting Angel to feed, and again he wondered why he was even bothering.

But he knew. Just as he knew his love for Buffy was absolute, he was aware that something was tampering with his emotions, allowing him to see the situation in a different light. Otherwise he would have been reacting with all the protectiveness of his inherent impulsive nature, ready to shield Buffy against the threat of pain and heartache.

Not to mention a little bit of his own heart.

Except something was silencing those reactionary urges and shoving them into the background, allowing him to see circumstances in a more logical manner until it had made perfect sense; because without the events having played out exactly as they had while they had been in Sunnydale the previous year, Spike would never have wound up with Buffy in his life.

Knowing that, all he could feel was gratitude rather than the seething hatred he had harbored since that night the mighty Poof had been sent to hell. For the gift of Buffy, Spike was willing to endure whatever agenda that had caused Angel to be tossed back from eternal damnation.

Carefully removing his teeth from Buffy's neck, he pulled back just slightly to gaze deeply into her eyes. One hand reached up to gently cup the side of her face as he asked, "You ok?"

Buffy's smile was languid, if not a bit on the sappy side. "Oh yeah, you could say that."

Spike's smirk was pure ego. "Guess I don't need to ask if that was good for you then, eh?"

"That would be a no." Buffy looked around, forehead furrowing. "Where did my mom and Giles go?"

"They skipped out about the time you started getting it on with my thigh shoved between your legs," Spike replied with a lewd smile. He watched her flush a pretty color of crimson. "Hey, we did warn 'em."

"Yeah, I guess." Buffy's face turned serious. "So now what?"

Spike sighed, pushing himself away from the tempting softness that his own body was sandwiching against the wall. "Now, I need to get the git to take a bite out of me."

Buffy bit back the shard of jealousy that stabbed her at his words, not realizing the impact of its existence on Spike, who crushed her to him once more.

"I love you," he murmured against her hair.

"I love you, too," Buffy responded, tipping her head back to capture his lips in a quick, hungry kiss. "And just so we're clear on this, it's you I want."

Spike pulled back, scoffing. "Please, like I was even worried about that." At her pointed look, he added, "Ok fine, maybe a little."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Like I'd want Angel back after everything we've shared this past year? Please."

The smile he gave her warmed her.

Drawing himself up with a sigh of resolution, Spike sent a quick glance in the direction of the room that had served as Angel's prison. His face hardened as he mentally prepared himself for the scene that was about to take place.

"Guess you'll be wanting me to stay here?" Buffy asked, studying his face.

His head jerked back and his eyes captured hers intently. "Yeah. Gonna have a hard time getting him to really let the demon out enough to go after me."

Buffy tipped her head quizzically. "Don't tell me, let me guess. You're going to use me to piss him off."

Spike's lips curled up in a slightly smug smile. "Well, yeah."

Buffy threw her arms around his neck for a brief moment, resting her cheek against the familiar hard contours of Spike's chest. "Good luck," she announced simply, her eyes telling him all that he needed to know.


As Spike slipped through the door that kept his grandsire in imprisoned isolation, the odor of decay and filth once more assaulted him. Thankful that he didn't need to draw the pungent air into his lungs in order to survive, he kept a careful eye on the pitiful creature huddled in the corner of the master bedroom.

There was no reaction as the heavy door slammed shut behind him and Spike took a moment to adopt the bad ass demeanor that he had used as an emotional shield in his life before Buffy.

Approaching the bowed figure, the contemptuous curve of Spike's lips slid into place with little effort.

"Well now," Spike began, "Isn't this just pathetic."

A slight flinch was the only outward sign that Angel was even aware of his presence, much less his voice.

"The almighty Angelus allowing himself to wallow in filth? Never thought I'd see the day. You wear it well, I might add," Spike mocked, one hand reaching into the deep pocket of his duster for the familiar weight of his cigarettes. He paused to light one with an exaggerated snap of his lighter before continuing the necessary torment.

"So... even Hell got sick of listening to you, is that it? Can't say as I really blame them."

Spike studied the submissive vampire on the ground in front of him, taking a step forward to squat in front of his elder. He took a leisurely drag of his cigarette before blowing the smoke deliberately into Angel's face.

"You've taken the tortured puppy-dog act and really run with it, haven't you?" Spike shook his head mockingly. "Bet you didn't expect to find Buffy not here. Must have come as quite a blow and all."

The mere mention of Buffy's name was enough to garner a response, and Spike knew he was on the right track. "Yeah, that was right convenient, let me tell ya. Because of that little stunt you tried by unleashing Hell on earth, your sweet little slayer was just ripe for the pickings."

A head topped with dirty, matted brown hair snapped up, the beginning vestiges of hatred beginning to simmer in the amber eyes that regarded Spike.

He smiled cruelly. "Yeah, ripe she was. I accidentally killed Dru, you know. You ruined everything that meant anything to me, you selfish prick. So the way I saw it? Taking your little slayer and breaking her was just a bit o' payback."

Spike fought back the nausea that swirled in his belly from referring to Buffy in such a crude fashion. It was just one more reminder of how much he had changed, and again, that knowledge refused to rile his demon. If he had been a different kind of vamp, more like Angelus, breaking Buffy would have been the reality.

But he wasn't like Angelus and never would be.

A rusty growl rumbled from the damaged vampire's chest, alerting Spike that his acting job was sufficient and he was getting through and pissing Angel's demon off. "What?" he asked mockingly. "Don't tell me that bothers you? You didn't seem to care when you were trying to run a sword through the bitch."

The growling grew louder and Spike knew it was just a matter of time - and words. "Glad you're back, by the way, so I can thank you for doing such a wonderful job of messing with the girl's head. Do you smell her on me?" Spike waved his hand - that had found its way between Buffy's legs earlier - under Angel's nose. "Got her dependant on the Big Bad. You got her so twisted in the head, all I had to do was come in and pretend to be there to pick up the pieces and your precious little slayer was all over me. Fucked her every night since."

Spike grinned at the smoldering fury that had built in Angel's eyes and was threatening to erupt. "And you know what the best part is? The bitch thanks me for it. Every night, I spread her sweet, little cunt open and pound her into the ground, and she thanks me for it." He shook his head in disbelief. "What a world."

The subsequent attack was expected. Angel may have been submissive earlier, but that was forgotten as he lunged at Spike with a savage snarl. If it even crossed Angel's mind why Spike was within striking distance, no heed was paid as the elder vamp attacked and sunk his fangs in Spike's throat, the demon desperate to reestablish control and punish his errant kin.

Spike was tackled backward, making no attempt to remove the vampire that had torn into his flesh, feeling the blood he had just taken from Buffy leaving his own body far quicker than it had entered. Spike knew once Angel realized he had been duped into feeding - with slayers blood, at that - it wasn't going to be pretty.

But for now, his mission had been accomplished. Angel was feeding, and Spike knew first hand the healing capacity of Buffy's blood.

"You pound me into the ground every night... and I thank you for it?" Buffy asked derisively from the doorway, arms crossed as she waited for them both to notice her presence.