10



Classes dragged by. Buffy felt twitchy and uncomfortable. And she was acutely aware of Spike. She knew when he was laying down, when he was pacing, and finally when he fell back asleep. She missed him. It wasn’t the burning need to see him that she had experienced two nights ago. She wasn’t having trouble concentrating or having to fight the urge to go see him. She just missed him. That was beyond disturbing.

Finally in her last class Buffy found herself not really paying attention to the lecture and watching the clock instead. Finally people began to shuffle around and put their books away and Buffy realized with a start that class had ended early. Willow leaned into her space and whispered conspiratorially, “Riley watched you all through the lecture.”

Buffy frowned. Three days ago she would have been thrilled. She might have very well melted into a puddle of girly excitement. He was definitely boyfriendly. Now the first thing that popped into her head was that Spike wouldn’t like it. Fuck that! She forced herself to turn and give Riley a cheery smile. She didn’t want to burn her bridges with attitude. Soon this whole thing would be over and she would be on the prowl for a nice normal boyfriend again. And you didn’t get more normal than corn-fed, polite, Iowa farm-boy Riley. He beamed back at her and she beat a hasty retreat before she actually had to talk to him. Willow caught up to her in the hall.

“What was that all about? I thought you liked Riley?”

“I do.” Buffy fidgeted nervously even as she hurried away from class. She didn’t want to chance running into him. “Things are just weird right now.”

“I called Giles this morning, he wants us to pick up Spike and meet him at the Magic Box.” Buffy nodded. Good they were picking up Spike. She should be annoyed. She tried to make an annoyed face but was sure she didn’t pull it off. “So uhm Spike, is he being all Vampiry?”

“Vampiry? Willow he’s definitely a vampire. But he’s not acting all Night of the Living Dead or anything. He even drank some of that blood Giles left, which is a good thing because I’m not sure I’m up to staking him.” Willow paused and turned to her, putting on her serious face.

“About Yesterday, Buffy I am really sorry.”

“It’s OK Willow. I’m kinda embarrassed about it actually. I mean I don’t really know why I acted like that, I just lost my head I guess.”

“Oh Oh, don’t be embarrassed. We all know it was totally because of the spell. Uhm, what does it feel like? Is it horrible?” Buffy started walking again, trying to decide how much to tell her friend. Finally she sat down on one of the benches and Willow joined her.

“It’s really kind of intimate. I know what he’s feeling and doing, and I know he knows what I’m feeling and doing. Even while he’s there and I’m here, I know he’s asleep. The really freaky thing about it is, it’s kind of nice actually. Being around him makes me feel all safe and warm, and I don’t get that a lot, ya know?” Willow nodded, slightly dumb struck. “And he’s being weirdly nice to me. You’d think he’d be all giving me a hard time about it, but I guess he feels weird too. And he’s all protective and I don’t know, concerned about me. I guess he’s used to taking care of Drusilla and now he wants to take care of me.”

“So uh, you like it than?” Buffy could tell that she was trying to choose her words carefully; she probably wanted to jump up and run in horror.

“Well, it’s not torture but Hello, Evil Dead Guy. Arrogant, Rude Serial Killer in my head. Definitely not of the good.”

Willow looked vastly relieved. “So uh, what kind of nice things? Did he cook again? That seriously wigged me out.”

“Uh yeah, actually I overslept this morning. We traded insults and than he made me Waffles while I was in the shower. And um, I was late so he drove me to school.”

“Wow, that’s boyfriendly. Wait, its daylight!”

“Don’t ask.” Xander suddenly popped up behind them and Buffy was glad that he had missed the beginning of this conversation. After the whole Angel thing she wasn’t sure Xander was the person to talk to about Spike. Actually she was quite sure that he was not.

“So, you girls ready to go? The Xan-Mobil is gassed up and ready to go.” Buffy couldn’t help but smile, would he never grow up? No Xander would eternally be immature and silly, and she loved him just the way he was.

“Yep.” Willow chirped. And Buffy got the impression that she was relieved with the turn of conversation. Not that she could blame her. She just wasn’t the same without Oz. Oh she put on a brave face, but she had wrapped so much of herself in Oz that she had ceased to be her own person. They had been like some kind of weird hybrid and now that Oz was gone a big part of Willow was missing. It must be hard to listen to her ramble on about being completed by someone. “We need to pick up Spike.” At Xander’s face she wrinkled her nose at him. “Giles Orders.”

“Spike, Great.” His former liveliness gone. Buffy frowned at Xander’s downtrodden words. She hoped he could learn to accept Spike. That thought stopped her cold; she literally stopped walking and gaped like a fish. Her friends turned to her. “Alright there? Buffy?” She smiled and nodded, hurrying to catch up to them. Didn’t matter what Xander thought about Spike cause this was sooo temporary.

But Buffy couldn’t fight the zap of excitement that rushed through her veins when they pulled into the driveway next to Spike’s old Desoto. She really didn’t see that attraction of a classic as he liked to call it, it was old. But she supposed Spike was old and felt some kind of weird kinship. But it wasn’t just him. She’d seen other guys go all slack jawed and glassy eyed over old cars too. Must just be a guy thing.

She was kind of disappointed when Willow and Xander got out of the car to go in with her. But they weren’t really the type to wait in the car, and probably had no clue why she might want them to. Xander raided the kitchen and Willow followed her up the stairs. She found herself hesitating slightly, blushing. She knew Spike was in her bed. Had slept there because it smelled like her. But what would Willow think. Oh well, it couldn’t be helped. She could have hollered for him at the bottom of the stairs and he would have come. But it was too late now. She opened her door and walked in with false confidence. She just hoped he wasn’t naked.

He was sprawled out on the comforter in just his jeans. Belly down, head turned on her pillow. His bare back was all smooth lines and muscle. The long furrows she had left the other night were gone, to be replaced by fading finger shaped bruises on his forearms and a fading redness where she had bitten him. He had liked that. He’d instantly come, gripping her to him, leaving his own marks on her. They hadn’t faded yet either. His hair was strangely ordered; apparently it took wicked sex to bring out his curls. After all he didn’t move when he slept.

He was completely still. It was unnerving. He was so animated when he was awake. Pacing and fighting and smirking and kissing. And now he was completely motionlessness. No breath stirred his breast, no twitch in his ivory skin. Outside of asleep she didn’t think she’d ever seen him still. There was no reflection of him in her dresser mirror. It unsettled her and she reached out and touched him. As if to prove to herself that he was there, that he was real and solid. She trailed her fingers from the nape of his neck, down his spine over the waistband of his jeans and cupped the swell of his ass. He immediately woke to her touch and watched her with hooded azure eyes that pierced right through to her soul. He was real. More real than anything else in the room, in her world.

Willow made a surprised sound and Buffy realized with a start that she had completely forgotten about the presence of her friend. She jerked her hand away from her mate and peeked at Willow. Her friend had a shocked and curious look on her face. Almost like longing. Willow noticed her looking and put her resolve face on. Buffy resigned herself to in depth conversation. Willow might be oblivious sometimes but she wasn’t blind. And the way she had touched this Vampire was the way a woman touched her lover, there was no mistaking it. The possessive sure sweep of her hand, the calm way he accepted it spoke volumes more than any words.

Spike rolled over onto his back and reached for his cigarettes. “Giles wants us at the magic box.” He nodded and propped himself up against the headboard, lighting a smoke. Completely at ease in her bed, seemingly oblivious to the tension in the room. Willow perched nervously on the bench of her vanity table and Buffy narrowed her eyes at the way that her friend kept looking at Spike. Not like she’d never seen a bare chested man before. She had been lovers with Oz. Just to keep herself busy she went to the closet and got out her weapons bag. She checked the contents even though she already knew what was in there. She ignored the thin stream of amusement she got from Spike. He knew she was uncomfortable and just keeping busy. Fuck him. She dug some workout clothes out of her dresser and tossed them in the bag.

“Got time for a shower?” Spike asked, snubbing his cigarette out in a pop can. God the stink of smoke was going to linger in her room forever.

“You sure wash a lot for a Vampire.” She snapped. He wasn’t nearly as bothered by this whole thing as he ought to be. She’d obviously been being too nice to him. He was getting all comfortable, in her house, in her bed.

“Vampires don’t eat, Vampires don’t wash.” He mimicked in a high pitched tone of voice. “The poof may have given you some odd preconceptions about Vamps, but I know for a fact that he was clean.” He smirked up at her, eyes almost flirting. He was obnoxious and she couldn’t believe she had ever let him touch her in the first place. He frowned suddenly. “Well, other than that hundred year stint of grungy guilt he dwelled on while he adjusted to his shiny new soul. Pathetic that was.”

“I’d really rather you didn’t talk about Angel. You really didn’t know him at all.” Buffy was proud of her flippant tone. Not so proud of the fact that she had to work to achieve it around him. It should come easy. “He was completely different than Angelus.”

“That right? I know him a lot better than you think little girl. He hid a lot from your innocent sweet eyes.” His smirk came back full blown. And she was hard pressed not to focus on his full, surprisingly soft, lips. She met his eyes instead and that might have been a mistake because they touched her deep inside and made her hum. “So are you trying to tell me that the great and powerful Angel didn’t have good hygiene?”

Willow suddenly broke in, ever the peacemaker. “Giles didn’t say it was urgent. I’m sure you could shower before we go.” Spike nodded to Willow, glided to his feet, and sauntered from the room without giving her a second glance. Willow turned to her friend and smiled far too sweetly. “Soooo, was it just me or was Spike sporting a nice bite mark? I’m sure it wasn’t there yesterday.”

“Sshhh, He’ll hear you.” She hissed. The shower started up. Would he be able to hear them talk over the shower? Cause there was going to be talking. No way was Willow going to let this go. And Buffy was feeling much kinder towards her friend all of a sudden. She had been staring at the bite mark, not his chest.

“The showers on Buffy, he can’t hear us.” Willow crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows.

“I’ll tell you all about it later, but I’m not sure he can’t hear us. And I so don’t want to discuss this in front of him.” She frowned. “Besides, Spike is freakishly quick in the shower.” Buffy grabbed her bag and headed downstairs. Even Willow wouldn’t pressure her to talk about something like this in front of Xander. The three of them sat at the table, the atmosphere comfortable. Xander was throwing popcorn in the air and catching it in her mouth.

Spike entered the room silently. She had told Willow that she was over the whole bad boy thing. That she wanted a nice wholesome boyfriend, normal and slay free, like Riley. She’d lied. The way Spike moved turned her on. He was violence walking. Like a deadly panther, all graceful and sure. His cocky strut just screamed, fuck with me, I dare you. Each move he made, precise and lethal. He exuded danger and sexuality. He knew it too.

“Ready Kiddies?” He drawled in his distinct accent. She would never admit, even to herself that it gave her the shivers every time she heard him speak. Long before this whole mate thing. Nope, some things should never be acknowledged or spoken, ever. Xander bristled at his tone and of course being referred to as a kiddie. You’d have to be an ancient old man to not be a kid to Spike. Who would most likely live forever.

Spike had a blanket tossed over one arm, and he’s keys in his other hand. Obviously he meant to drive his own car, and it made sense. If they managed to separate today he wouldn’t want a reason to have to come back here. And she didn’t care. She wanted to be rid of him as much as he wanted to be rid of her. She did. Xander guffawed in amusement when Spike made his mad dash to his car. Buffy didn’t think it was funny, it was foolish. Courting his own death that way. Of course what else would she expect from a Vampire who purposely sought out the Slayer because she was a challenge.

Buffy was disgusted with herself when she actually took a second to consider which car to get in. She slammed Xander’s door a little harder than she ought to and he made a wounded sound. Xander drove the speed limit, and Spike drove disturbingly close to his rear bumper. Just what did Spike intend to do if he got pulled over in broad daylight? Probably would consider it a challenge. Freak.

The interior of the Magic Box was cheery and familiar. Giles sat at a corner table, surrounded by his books. He would figure this out. One of life’s few certainties was that she could depend on Giles. She didn’t like the nervous look he gave her at all. She sat down next to him and smiled. Spike tossed his blanket over the chair next to her and sprawled out in the seat. Buffy sniffed at him and tossed her hair. He just grinned at her and than ran his tongue over his teeth. He was so annoying. “So, hunted down a cure for us yet Giles?”

“What you have isn’t a disease Buffy.” He took off his glasses and looked seriously at them both. Uh Oh, This was not of the good. “How are you two doing?”

“Don’t dance around the question Watcher.” Spike’s tone of voice was low and ominous. His previous good humor forgotten. “Do you have a Soddin’ solution or should I start searching elsewhere?”

“Do you have other sources?” Giles replied, voice sharp and hard. His earlier forced friendliness overblown by his natural hostility.

“No where I’d take my Slayer.” Giles snapped his pencil in half. He took a deep breath and unclenched his fist. Xander and Willow finally sat down. Giles hadn’t missed Spike calling her his. And she should be pissed off. But she felt his alarm in her head and knew he hadn’t meant to say it that way. Hadn’t meant to claim her out loud. She had found herself calling him hers several times in the last few days. Of course her friends thought that he had done it to irritate. Spike turned and frowned at her, he surely could feel her amusement despite her strait face.

“Than we had best get strait to what I’ve found then.” Giles eyes softened when he turned to her. “It’s quite disturbing actually. Have you eaten?”

“No, Why?”

“Because it’s probably best if you eat before I tell you.” Buffy felt the blood drain from her face. This did not sound pleasant. Spike’s hand twitched on his leg and Buffy knew he was fighting the urge to touch her. Giles dug out his wallet. “Xander, Willow. Perhaps you could get us some sandwiches from down the road?” Her two friends walked out silently, side by side. He placed his glasses firmly on his nose and leaned in on his elbows. “Now Buffy, really how are you feeling? I was very worried about you yesterday. Your reaction to the spell leads me to believe that this connection between you runs much deeper than we originally thought.” He looked very uncomfortable. “I must apologize to you dear; I rather rushed into that spell because of the disturbing state I found things that morning.”

“So you sent the kiddies away to chat about the sex?” Spike drawled bluntly, while dipping into his pockets for his cigarettes. Chain Smoker, Much? “It was a temporary side effect, if that’s what’s got you all bollixed up.” Giles paled. Buffy didn’t realize she had swung until her fist was crashing towards his arrogant smirking face. He must have sensed her coming because he shoved himself back away from the table, dropping his cigarettes and falling gracelessly. “Bloody Hell Bitch!” He glared up from the floor with his sapphire eyes sparkling with anger. “What?”

She jumped up and aimed a kick at his midsection. What? What? She would show him what. He caught her ankle, twisted it and sent her sprawling too. She leapt to her feet and he had gotten up too. They squared off and Buffy was about to seriously get down to kicking his undead ass when Giles interrupted. “That’s quite enough you two; there really isn’t time for this.” He sighed dramatically and they both sat down. A seat between them and Spike glaring menacingly. “Are there any other side effects I should be aware of? Honesty is critical here. I can’t fix it if I don’t know what I’m dealing with.”

She stared at Spike and he stared back. She had explained the way she felt as best she could to Giles before. Spike reached down and snatched his cigarettes off the floor. “It’s really intense Giles, I feel…” He’d said honesty was important but she wished Spike wasn’t here listening to every word. “Close to him.” She finished lamely. Spike blew smoke over the table and arched his back, like a big cat stretching.

“I’m channeling her loyalties and feelings.” Buffy nodded smartly. That was probably important. Giles leaned back and waved his hand as if for Spike to continue. Spike wore his look of disgust openly. “Couldn’t hurt the lot of you if I wanted to. Feel all warm and fuzzy towards you. It’s stronger when the Slayer’s with me. It’s not nearly as strong as she feels I think, more like an echo, an impression. But it’s more concentrated today than it was yesterday.”

“Yeah I’ve noticed the same thing, and I’m protective and sympathetic towards him too.”

“But are there negative things?” Giles paused, took off his glasses and faced her resolutely. “Buffy are you craving blood?” He asked baldly. He couldn’t have shocked her more if he had told her that pigs had wings and were planning the next apocalypse.

“What? No Giles, No. The worst thing is just that it’s Spike. If it wasn’t Spike it might actually be kind of nice. But it’s Spike. But no, no blood cravage of any kind. No! Giles I would have told you something like that.” Buffy knew she was rambling but she was horrified. Giles had thought she might be craving blood and yet had left her alone with a Vampire for company How sick was that?

”Calm down Ripper. She’s not turning into a bloody demon!” He stood and walked behind her chair. She started violently when he laid his hands on her. He ran his calloused fingers up her arms and rested his hands on her shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. She realized she was leaning into his touch and stiffened back up. He stepped away from her and paced. She felt calmer, but infinitely more embarrassed. He had after all just told her watcher, her watcher of all people, that they had slept together. She had known that he knew but she would have rather it never be spoken of out loud.

Giles gave him a very dirty look but looked relieved against his will. He opened his mouth to speak but Xander and Willow came bumbling in the door with two bags from the sandwich shop. Everyone dug in; they had even picked up a sandwich for Spike. He sat again and munched with them. Xander and Willow made silly jokes and Xander snorted pop through his nose. “This is the crack team that foils my every plan? I am deeply shamed.” Spike muttered, shaking his head. Buffy found herself smiling at him and stopped abruptly.

Finally Giles cleared his throat and reached for one of his books. “Remember I mentioned that there were other references to the original prophecy. I believe now that they are actually related more to the results. In fact I have confirmed seventeen separate citations’s referring to your current condition. In truth I have found countless obscure references that may point to this event as well.”

“You comin’ to a point anytime soon Watcher?” Spike asked, using his foot to push his chair back on its hind legs. Giles glared at him and Spike ignored it, lighting yet another cigarette. “Night’s falling, I got places to be.”

“Oh no!” Xander exclaimed. “Were talking apocalypse now, aren’t we?” Willow gasped and sat up strait.

“I’ll admit that there are dire portends that refer to the “Slayer’s blood bond.” And “Enemies bound by purpose” Which was the exact phrasing of the original prophesy. Also there are references to “The chosen’s mate”, “The Vampire’s light with a beating heart.” And others.” He sat the book down and removed his glasses. “These could advocate a single event or a series of events. The fact is that this requires further research before I designate any course of action. And I believe that it would be disastrous to sever this mating. And until I know more I think it imperative that things remain as they are.”

Spike crashed to the floor. Buffy jumped to her feet and cried “What! You are so kidding with me, aren’t you Giles.” He shook his head at her and she gasped helplessly. “You can’t be serious Giles, you can’t propose you just leave us like this?” Spike growled and leapt up to stand behind her. He radiated hostility and she couldn’t fault him.

“I am not just going to keep the Slayer you bleedin idiot.” His voice was low and threatening again and Buffy shivered.

“Spike, calm down” Giles said wearily, with far too much patience. “I’m not saying forever just until we make sure that ending it is in the best interest of everyone.”

Spike smashed his foot into the table, sending the table, books and sandwiches flying. Amazingly it didn’t hit any of her friends and she realized with a flinch that he hadn’t meant it to. He spun and grabbed a shelf, sending it airborne as well.

“Spike, that’s enough.” She said quietly. He visibly struggled with himself. His need to please her warring with his need to destroy things in his frustration. Finally he through up his hands and strode towards the door with a “Bugger this.”

She ran to catch up with him. “Spike, where are you going?”

“Gonna go kill something Slayer. Being hungry makes me edgy.” She stepped resolutely in his way.

“Let’s get something strait right now Spike. You are not going to slaughter innocent people and live. I am the Slayer and I will do my duty.”

“That right?” He smirked and got up close to her. “Your not gonna do anything to me, you haven’t the stones.”

“I shoved a sword through the stomach of my soul-mate. I won’t shed any tears over your dust Vampire.”

“Yeah to save the world sweetheart. But for some barmy thug? Some idiot stupid enough to walk the streets after sunset? They’re asking for it Goldilocks. It’s what I do.”

She stepped closer to him and titled back her head so she could look him in the eye. “Giles, get some chains. I’m taking blood breath here down.”

He gripped her waist, hard. Pulling her lower body into his. She could feel proof of his arousal pressing firmly into her pelvis and her breath caught. His voice was low and rough, pitched for her ears alone. “That an invitation luv, fighting s’not the only way I can think of to burn off tension.”

She gripped the lapels of his coat and pulled him even closer. “I’m serious Spike, your itch’n for a fight I’ll serve it up. But the blood of the innocent is out.” His mouth was inches from hers, his eyes hard as glass. Her heart was beating so fast; surly it must sound like a drum to him. His hands softened at her waist, his fingers flexed possessively and his thumbs rotated in a smooth circle. She pushed him hard and he stumbled away from her. “We’ve got blood at my house, we’ll get as much as you need.”

He cocked his head to one side, a feral look to him. “And if I want it strait from the tap?”

“Shit in one hand, want in the other. We’ll see which one fills up first.” Willow made a squeaking sound at her language and Buffy turned. Giles had a look of disapproval on his face as well. The table was destroyed and they were still all in their seats, shocked expressions in tact. Spike reached up and stroked her neck, his thumb brushing firmly over his bite mark. He removed his touch before she could react and he smirked back at her dirty look.

“So research party?” Willow spoke up nervously. “Uhm, What about Patrolling? If this isn’t getting fixed she’s going to have to go out sooner or later.” Spike growled at her back and Buffy smiled.

“There you go Spike, all the violence you could possibly want.” He growled again and began to pace.

“I’m not Peaches, Buffy. I’m not going to exterminate my own kind.”

“You’re trying to tell me you’ve never killed other Vampire’s?” Xander was incredulous. As he should be. Spike was volatile.

“Only if they piss me off.” He muttered. And Buffy laughed.

“You’d best come along than. With your attitude someone is bound to piss you off.” He glared at her and she glared back. But he snatched his cigarettes off the table and swept out of the door without argument.



11

Spike stalked angrily away from that little rat trap where all the soddin Scooby’s were so bloody comfortable. Eating sandwiches and makin jokes. All the time planning on telling him that they had no intention of helping him. And his Slayer was just as bad. Granted she was in the same boat as him but it really brassed him off the way she had stiffened when he touched her. Perfectly innocent touch it was too. She was all wound up and he was just helping her out. As if he hadn’t had his hands all over her just that morning. Bloody Bitch.

Oh and her High and Mighty fucking attitude was like fingernails on a bloody chalkboard. Telling him he couldn’t feed properly. What, did she think he was going to be her pet Vamp like Peaches? Drink blood from a jar and fight the forces of evil. He was evil God Damn it. So maybe he didn’t want to end the world, but he still loved Murder and Mayhem as much as the next Vamp. Did she forget who she was dealing with? Spike, Slayer of Slayers. One two many orgasms fry what’s left of her brain? Okay, best not to think of orgasms and the Slayer in the same sentence, cause that just made him hard.

His Slayer was running to catch him, she tugged on his duster firmly and he spun, pulling it out of her hands. “What.” He snarled at her and she flinched. If he mentioned that she had shied from him she would deny it with venom, but she did and it cooled his temper considerably. Which ought to piss him off because he was a Fucking Vampire and wanted the Slayer to fear him.

“Look Spike, I know that this majorly sucks, but you have to trust Giles. He’ll work this out, he always does.” She bit her lip, probably without realizing it and he felt his blood stir. It suddenly occurred to him that he had her alone. Oh they were on a public bloody street, but her Bleedin Watchdogs for friends were nowhere in sight. “It’s just for a little while, probably a few days at most.” He began to snake towards her and she stepped back a bit. She took another step back and he pressed himself alongside her body, shoving her against the rough wood of some building or other.

Her eyes flashed up at him. “Besides, you’ve got it easy. Just spend a few days in the basement. I’ve got to explain this to my mom.” She gave him a halfhearted smile. She was just as compelled to soothe him as he was to soothe her. That was comforting. But she was a child; she knew nothing of the world. His great love hung in the balance. His dark princess, his Drusilla. And the worst part of it was, even with thoughts of her dark eyes and hair swirling at the edge of his consciousness. He was consumed with the Slayer. This slip of a girl, with her wide eyes and strong hands. The power in her blood sung to him, her scent intoxicated him. Standing this close to her, she surrounded him. His other cares and worries, the rest of the flaming world, bled to grays and blacks. And she was Technicolor.

Her bottom lip pouted a bit, just begging for him. So he buried one hand in her soft gold locks and kissed her hard. She overwhelmed him. The way she tasted, how surprisingly soft her lips were. The way she focused all that Slayer power and energy on him. It was like a kick to the gut. Swift and crushing, she kissed with everything she had and he was drunk on her power. He swept his tongue along the roof of her mouth and she moaned deep in her throat. She clutched his leather and pulled him flush against her. He rocked his hips against hers and let his own groan out when she rocked back.

He’d been hot for her all day; his hand had done little to relieve his lust. All sweet smelling and delicious, on top of him in the car. He had wanted her to come back to him, to admit to herself she wanted him. Instead she had run away, flashing him with sunlight. Leaving him all bollixed up. Bitch. And now he was on fire. He had to have her now. He about came in her hand when she fumbled with his zipper and pulled him out. She ran her smooth little hand down his length and he growled at her. She smiled, letting go of his lips, looking into his eyes with a boldness he hadn’t thought she possessed. He shoved her skirt up over her hips, hiked her legs around his hips, pushed her panties to the side and buried himself to the hilt before the rumble in his chest died out.

Her eyes went wide with surprise, then she blew his mind and rotated her hips. God she was hot. He rolled against her, creating hot sweet friction. The burn of his zipper added to his pleasure and he bent his head to her neck, nipping and sucking. She met him thrust for thrust. She arched into the wall and pushed herself against him more firmly and he began to cuss. He knew he was babbling, about how fucking hot she was, how much he wanted her, how good she felt. He didn’t care. He just wanted to taste her, and fuck her, and crush her to him. She was like a ferocious storm, thunder and lightning and pelting rain. He was just a little one man boat swept up in her fury. Fuck this was heaven. He body spiraled out of his control, his climax was building. He pulled back to look at her and was awed for a moment. She met his eyes, clutched his leather, and fell over the edge. Her tight little muscles worked him over, his name was on her lips, and he came hard with her.

“Jesus Bloody Christ Buffy.” He whispered into her hair. He held her for a moment longer, getting his bearings, letting the world sway to a stop. Then he pulled his softening cock out of her and slid her down his body. She leaned up against the wall, breathing hard and watching him with a guarded expression. He tucked himself away and zipped. Then he smoothed down her dress where it was still riding up. She blushed. She seemed of a sudden to recall where they were and glanced anxiously up and down the street. “Relax Slayer, streets dead. Besides this coat covers a lot.”

“I have to patrol.” She snarled at him, pushing past him violently and stalking down the street like a spooked cat. He shrugged and followed her. Patrolling was a disastrous idea. One, someone was going to see them. By tomorrow night everyone would know he was shagging the Slayer senseless and had claimed her for his own. Two, the bloody bitch could get hurt. Lots of nasties out there. But she probably wouldn’t want to hear that so he just stretched out his legs till he was along side her and they walked in silence.

Spike wondered idly, how long it would take for the news to travel to LA. Peaches thought he had outdone him in Slayer action. Saying anyone could kill a Slayer but he had made one fall in love with him. Bloody poof was going to think he had mated her just to top that. He would come to challenge him; there was no doubt about that. A part of Spike jumped in excitement, ready for the fight.

He glanced sidelong at his girl. She was walking along swiftly, obviously determined to ignore him. He could smell himself all over her and he tried to dampen the possessiveness that rolled through him. He couldn’t see his mark, because her hair was in the way. He was beginning to realize that he could easily become obsessed with that hair. Golden strands bouncing all around her. Smelling of honey and Buffy. It was like the sunlight he would never see again. Her own golden glow.

They cut across the street and entered the first cemetery. She pulled a stake out of nowhere and twirled it expertly. Where the fuck was that thing? He had had her pressed up against the wall, fucking her bloody brains out and she had a stake stashed somewhere on her bleedin’ body? He shivered. Shouldn’t allow himself to forget just how dangerous this little slip of a girl really was. The insane thing was, it made him want her again.

“So, how long do you wonder around at night?” He asked, breaking the silence. He never was good at keeping quiet.

“I don’t wander around.” She snapped. “I slay, until I’m tired.”

“Right then, Slay.” He said gesturing to two vamps coming up quick to the left. Buffy Spun and dropped into fighting stance. But the Vamps didn’t attack. They just stood there, kind of in shock. Spike hiked himself up onto a massive tombstone and lit a smoke. “You planning on dusting those blokes anytime soon Slayer, We don’t have all night.”

“Spike?” One of the vampires asked, incredulity written all over him.

“”Bryan, Jenkins,” He replied, nodding at each of the vamps.

“Wait,” Buffy spun back to him. “You know these guys?”

“Lived on the Hell mouth off and on for about three years now Slayer, know quite a few baddies.”

Buffy rolled her eyes expressively and opened her mouth to speak, but she was rudely interrupted by Jenkins. “So you’ve mated the Slayer, How the fuck did that happen?”

“Would you just end them pet? They’re getting on my bleedin’ last nerve.” She blurred into motion. Kicking one vamp in the jaw than spinning to land her fist in the eye of the other. She leapt over both of them to place them both on the same side of her. She came at them like a windmill, kicking and punching. They never had a chance. Three minuets passed in a flurry of motion and than a shower of dust. She was amazing. She was magnificent. She was poetry. And he was a stupid sod for thinking so.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” She snapped, waving her hand in front of her face, delicately, to diffuse the dust. Dainty little thing for a Slayer. Behead beasties, make with the kung-fu, paint her toenails, Shag him crazy, bubble bath with candle light, probably just a normal day for her.

Three Cemetery’s, Four Fledglings, An older Vamp in Armani, and a Gerenuk demon later; his slayer was beginning to get brassed off. She twisted to face him and snatched his cigarette right out of his hand. She tossed it to the ground. “Perfectly good smoke you ruined there luv.”

“Don’t call me that.” She snarled. “What, are you practicing to be a lump, cause that’s about as useful as you’ve been to me tonight.” She switched stances, arms crossing over her chest. “I mean really, why did you come if your just gonna stand around and make snarky comments while I do all the work?”

He fought the urge to smile at her little bout of temper. That would really brass her off. “I’m Plan B.” He replied. She snarled again and he found himself thinking that she was quite lovely when she was mad. Her cheeks were all rosy and her eyes shone with inner fire. He was thinking to kiss her again, maybe convince her to take him home and have her wicked way with him when he caught a metallic scent on the air and a flash of crimson motion out of the corner of his eye. He shoved his slayer out of the way just as four inch claws ripped through her space. He wasn’t sure what kind of demon this was but it was stealthy and fast. It twisted and attacked him immediately.

Spike leapt back and rolled out of the way. The damn thing was quick as lighting. It pounced at him, jumping at least nine feet and Spike barely dodged again. His Slayer homed in behind it brandishing a tree branch of all things. She rammed it into its neck hard. The thing let out a screech fit for a vampiric owl and shifted its focus to Buffy. She leapt out of its way and Spike latched onto one of its four hind legs, twisting with all his strength. Again it swerved back towards him, howling in rage and pain. Apparently having a gaping wound in its neck and a shattered leg didn’t slow the bloody thing down. The thing managed to grasp him with one of those bloody horrific forearms and Spike hissed as claws sharp as knives sliced into his arm. He grabbed the appendage and ripped it clean off than struck out at its eyes with its own claws.

The thing reared back too quick to do any real damage but Spike did manage to leave four bloody gashes on the demons hideous pink face. His slayer grasped his uninjured arm and swung out with her feet. He realized she was using him for leverage and he twisted his body to add to her speed. Both her little booted feet connected hard with the creature’s fat neck, making a very satisfying crushing noise. He swung her from harms way. They spun together, in perfect sync, the demon was wobbling on his feet and he boosted his slayer in the air. She landed on the demons back, wrapped her little arms around its neck and wretched. It dropped like a stone and Buffy stepped nimbly to the ground.

“What was that thing?” She asked him and he shook his head, looking her over critically. She didn’t appear to be injured. She moved into his space and touched his damaged arm gently. It hurt, but not that bad. She would know this; she would be able to feel it. “Bring that arm; those claws might have been poisonous.” She raised her hand to his face and cupped it gently, leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed him. Just a soft brush of her candy lips against his before she turned and began walking. Would wonders never cease? A kiss freely given. He followed her.



12


Giles had bed head. It was disturbing to see him so disheveled. He was flipping through one of his demon books, occasionally picking up the morbid arm they had carried home to examine. “You’re sure it was pink?”

“Yeah, the arm turned that sickly color on the way here.” Buffy replied.
Spike was slumped in the armchair. His arm freshly bandaged. The claws had not been poisonous, thank goodness. Not that he cared; he was more upset about the damage to his leather. He was holding his coat in his lap, poking morosely at the holes in the sleeve. Only Spike would care more about a piece of dead cow than his well being. It was almost disconcerting to see him so quiet. Jeez, it was just a coat.

He was almost pouting, his lower lip sticking out just a little further than his top lip. If she told him he was pouting he would deny it with venom. But that’s what it looked like to her. The alarming thing was that he was so adorable. With his striking blue puppy dog eyes and hangdog face. Mixed with his muscular body and his platinum hair. He made her want to kiss it better. He made her want to go buy him a new coat. She desperately needed mental help. She desperately wanted to go sit on his lap and touch him all over. Yep, this whole thing was going to require years of therapy. Maybe she should call Jerry Springer and see if he would do a show on Slayer’s and their Vampire lovers. They could film at night.

Giles held up his book. “Did the demon look anything like this?” He questioned. Buffy squinted to see the tiny picture across the room. Spike answered for her.

“That’s close. The soddin thing had four hind legs though and could jump quicker than a bleedin kangaroo.” Giles frowned and pulled another book closer to him. Buffy glared at Spike for answering for her but her glare was wasted; he was too absorbed with his stupid Duster. Giles held up another picture.

“How about this one?” Buffy crossed the room and took the book. Only to realize that it had been dark and she wouldn’t mind a second opinion. She crossed to Spike and looked at him expectantly until he tossed his coat over the side of the chair and stood up to look at the picture. He looked at her and just nodded.

“Yeah Giles, I think that’s it.” Giles took his book and Spike went out to smoke. After a few minutes of silence, Buffy followed him. He lounged up against the wall, just outside the door. She wondered briefly if he smoked for the nicotine or just because he needed something to do with his hands. Spike was always in motion, never at rest. She leaned up against the wall next to him, her arm just barely brushing up against his. It was one of those comfortable silences. Just him and her and the night, finding comfort in their closeness. She knew it was just the bond that gave them this peace. But she’d never felt anything like it before and knew that when it was gone she would weep for its loss. She was the Slayer and this was probably the only peace she would ever know.

Spike finished his cigarette and pitched it into the night. “Slayer?”

“Yeah?”

“I got the feeling that the demon was waiting for us. Expecting us.” He paused and tilted his head. “It was waiting for us to be distracted. It had no scent and made no noise; till it opened its mouth and I smelled someone else’s blood. It was an assassin Buffy. If it hadn’t fed I wouldn’t have smelled it coming. It probably would have taken both of us out.”

Buffy crossed her arms and played the encounter over in her mind. There had been something off about it. “My Spidy sense didn’t go off.” He raised his eyebrows at her and she smiled. “My Slayer senses didn’t cue me that a demon was near. Usually I feel something.”

“Could it have been me? Vampire throwing off your senses?”

“No.” She didn’t elaborate and he didn’t ask her to. She no longer got the danger, danger vibe from Spike. It was more like peace and comfort. Even if there were other vampire’s around she still should have sensed something. She got a different feeling for Vamps than she did for other demons. More sharp and clear. But she hadn’t really run into harmful demons that she couldn’t sense. Sometimes if a person was particularly violent she could pick up on it.

They existed in silence for another ten minuets before Buffy asked “Spike, Do you think Giles will be able to break this thing with us?”

“Don’t know pet.” She wished he wouldn’t call her that. She liked it when he used her name. He had so many nicknames for everyone that when he called her Buffy it took on an intimacy that made her shiver. Like Buffy was his own private name for her, like the sweetest endearment. Not that it should matter. Not that Spike’s habits should count one way or the other. This wasn’t even worth thinking about.

“Do you know anyone else who might be able to break it?” She asked in a small voice.

“Wouldn’t risk it.” He replied without looking at her.

“Because of Me?” He looked at her then and she shivered.

“Yeah.” She didn’t examine the warm fuzzy feeling that swept through her too closely.

“My mom’s going to be home tomorrow.” Buffy looked down at her feet. His eyes were always so intense. Sometimes she just had to look away.

“What are you planning on telling her luv?”

“I don’t know, the truth probably. Ever since I came out about Slaying there’s been a lot more honesty between us.”

Spike let out a low soft laugh that sent tingles up her spine. “I supposed “Hey mom, I’m a bleedin’ superhero that Slays demons and vampires” takes the bloody cake, eh Slayer.”

She smiled down at her feet. “Yeah, I’m not going to be dropping any bigger bombs than that one. I think she would have rather heard I’m pregnant. At least there are parent support groups for parents of teenage parents.”

She looked up and found him smiling down at her, blue eyes dancing. He shoved off the wall and held the door open for her. He did that a lot. Gentlemanly things. She supposed it was left over from his Victorian upbringing. Most likely if she mentioned it he would make a conscious effort to stop. Giles looked up at them when they entered, he looked terribly serious and Buffy sat on the couch, mentally bracing herself for what he would tell her.

When he had their attention, Giles began to speak in his most serious tone of voice. “This was no ordinary demon. According to this text the Hurmurvian is completely extinct in this dimension. The author in fact suspects them to be legend due to the fact that one has not been spotted in well over a thousand years. He does allow that this might be because no one ever survives attack. They existed with only one purpose, assassination. They are without bodily sound or smell and are extremely single minded. Once it has your scent it will never ever waver from the kill, excepting death of course. It also does not make random kills Buffy.” Giles looked up from his book and fixed her with his gaze. “It only kills those who have been targeted for it.”

“So someone wants me dead? There’s a big surprise Giles.” Buffy was unimpressed. So long as the thing wasn’t a harbinger of apocalypse, and there weren’t anymore to hunt down and kill, it didn’t matter. It was dead.

“Some force powerful enough to summon a Hurmurvian wants you both dead.” Giles said gravely. “I don’t believe this to be coincidence. Too many prophecies seem to be linked to your odd connection and destroying one or both of you may very well open the path wide to world destruction or domination. The timing is too coincidental. I believe this is only the first attempt.”

Buffy frowned down at her lap, so not good. Sounded like the Apocalypse was rearing its ugly head again. “I must say.” Giles continued in a slightly more upbeat tone of voice. “That killing a Hurmurvian is very impressive. There is no record anywhere of anyone actually slaying one before, or even surviving attack. How on earth did you manage it?”

“Tag Teamed it.” Buffy chirped and repressed a grin at Giles appalled look. It disturbed him deeply when she didn’t take Slaying seriously.

“We’re only standing cause having two targets confused it. It couldn’t stay focused on one of us. Also a bit of bloody luck. It had fed on someone or something, point is I smelled blood right before it attacked.” Giles frowned at Spike and Spike frowned back. After a moment Giles grudgingly nodded and closed the book in his hand with a snap.

“Giles, what do you know so far about these prophecy’s you keep mentioning?” Giles frowned again and set down his book. He removed his glasses and polished them with a handkerchief from his pocket. He replaced them on his face before he answered.

“Honestly Buffy, so far I know very little. Willow researched with me quite a bit this evening but there is so much to cross reference and so many different dialects and languages. Not to mention we have to determine how many of the more vague prophecies actually correspond to your bond. Also we’ve yet to determine if we are talking about one event or several.”

“Well what do you know Watcher?” Spike cut in with his usual sneer. Giles stiffened visibly. It was almost funny to watch him bounce back and forth. Gentle when he spoke to her. Hostile if he needed to address Spike.

“Signs definitely point to a massive battle and a rising dark power. The prime prophecies are clear that the Slayer and her Vampire Mate are pivotal in the opposition. One of the scrolls I’m referring to quotes that only the two of you will stand between Light and the Edge of Darkness. I could go on but really all I know is that this bond is essential in overcoming this new and powerful evil. You’re the hope of the world.” She wished Giles didn’t sound so bleak.

“Another day on the hell mouth.” Buffy sang, springing up. “Ready?” She asked Spike. He scowled at her. Probably thinking of calling in sick when they had to battle the forces of darkness, being a creature of darkness himself. But he stood and slipped into his duster.

“Buffy, please use extreme caution getting home.” She smiled at him and reassured him that she would indeed be careful. She almost drew out the conversation longer because Spike was simmering impatiently at the door. But she let it go and walked past him into the night. His car was still at the magic box so they would have to walk. Thank Goodness, his driving frightened her and she would much rather walk. She did need to think about what to tell her mom. It wasn’t like she wanted a puppy. She was asking if she could keep a Vampire in the basement. And not even a reformed one. Just a serial killer on vacation. The freaky thing was that her mom seemed to like Spike. Once she had caught the two of then having hot coco while Spike moaned about Drusilla. Her mom had certainly never warmed to Angel that way.

The house was eerily silent and cold. Buffy flipped on the lights in the living room and the hall on the way to the kitchen. Spike followed her, a silent shadow. He sat at the bar while Buffy opened the fridge. “OK, we got O-, B+…”

“Just heat it Slayer.” Buffy stood and frowned over her shoulder at him, even as she snagged a bag of plasma.

She tossed it in the microwave and timed the cycle for 97 seconds. “You’re all bad-moody.” She ripped open the bag and poured the warm blood into a tall glass.

“I’m mated indefinitely to the Slayer, we’ve assassins on our tail, and my coat sleeve is in ribbons.” He groused accepting the blood with a grimace. “And I’m drinking blood out of a glass.”

Buffy frowned at him and braced her hands on the counter behind her. “Thought Vampires lived in the moment.”

“This moment bites.” He smiled ruefully. “No pun intended.” Buffy laughed and dug out the Ben and Jerry’s. A long night of Slaying and she deserved ice-cream. He didn’t do much slaying but he had helped her battle a pink assassin so he could have some too. She fished down two bowls and dished out generous helpings. He accepted his ice-cream without comment and she walked around the bar taking the stool next to him.

“It’s really not that bad.” Buffy said, examining his coat between bites of Cherry Garcia. “It’s just a few rips, I bet my mom would know how to sew them up, or maybe Willow could fix it.” He brightened considerably, picking up out of his slump and taking bites of his ice-cream with gusto.

“Your right, the Witch owes me for not eating her. She ought to be able to wave her magic wand and make my coat like new. Wonder if she’d fix up the stitching in the lining while she’s at it, and my right cuff is beginning to get a little ragged. She can probably add another 25 years to this baby.” Spike drawled in between bites of Cherry goodness.

“You’ve had that old thing for 25 years?”

“More or less, it’s a trophy.” Buffy didn’t ask. She was quite certain that she didn’t want to know and that asking would spoil the comfortable mood between them. She took her bowl and his to the sink and frowned. Dishes were beginning to pile up and her mom would be home tomorrow. Buffy hated dishes. She ran hot soapy water in the sink anyways. Spike lit a smoke and pulled that morning’s newspaper to him. She wished she had a video camera so she could record this happy little domestic scene. It was just too bizarre for words.

There weren’t many dishes but Buffy was becoming increasingly frustrated with the egg pan. Who knew egg could cling like that? She felt more than heard Spike move up behind her. He reached over her to the sink and plucked a silver ball of wire up, handing it to her. Buffy frowned at it but attacked the mess. Anything to keep her from fainting from either shock or amusement when Spike grabbed a sponge and wiped down the stove and the countertop. She finally placed the pan in the drainer, wiped her hands on a towel and turned to face him. He was leaned up against the counter watching her. “We done?”

“Yeah.” The word had barely left her mouth when he was across the room in her personal space. His mouth on hers. His hands in her hair. Spike could kiss like nobody’s business. It was impossible to think about anything except his cool tongue in her mouth, his lips and teeth and hands. The way he smelled, the way his hard taut body fitted up against hers. The world shrank to just the two of them; he had that effect on her.

He bent his head to her neck and began to nibble. She arched back into the countertop and rubbed her pelvis against the substantial bulge in his pants. He reached the spot where her neck met her shoulder and she shivered uncontrollably, as a sound of bliss escaped her lips. “Need to take a shower.” Buffy panted out between little cries of pleasure as he slipped the straps of her dress down her arms and slid the flimsy material from her body. He was working his oral magic on the top of her breasts and his hands were everywhere from her waist to her ass to her thighs. And he was saying something about Golden Goddess and Bloody perfect that made her body sing.

She gave into the excitement and ran her hand through his hair, mussing it proper. Then she peeled his duster off his body, wasn’t thinking about his leather now was he. She threw it to the floor and dragged him by his hair up to her lips, rocking her body into his. He groaned and kissed her like she was the center of his universe. She ripped at his clothes, hope he wasn’t fond of that shirt cause it was in pieces now, but it was out of her way. She kissed and sucked at his neck and reveled in her power over him as he began to cuss. “Fuck luv, Gods feels good, Damn, Bloody perfect you are.”

She loved the way his skin felt under his hands, all smooth hard muscles that quivered and flexed for her. He was kissing her neck too and his hands cleverly got her out of her bra so he could fondle her breasts with his gifted fingers. He pinched her nipples and then soothed them with his thumbs and Buffy knew that she drew blood with her fingernails when he let out that low growl that she was getting so fond of, his you’re turning me on growl. Suddenly he dropped to his knees.

She didn’t know whether to be turned on or embarrassed when he was face to crotch with her. He’d had his tongue and fingers and dick there before but she was still thinking to get him up and take him to the bedroom when he grasped her hips and pulled her into his face. He ran his tongue over her already soaking wet panties and she braced her hands on the counter to keep from falling to her own knees. Because that might stop him or slow him down. “Taste so fucking good Buffy, been thinking about it all bloody day.” He whispered hotly against her before he ripped her panties clean off with his teeth.

His tongue darted out and touched her bare skin and Buffy jumped in her skin. His hands slid down to her thighs. “That’s right luv,” He whispered running in wet tongue over her outside lips. He used his hands to coax her legs further apart. “Open up for me Buffy.” So she spread her legs and leaned back on the counter and let him shatter her world. He worked her over in earnest now, licking and sucking and nipping. And Buffy was dying and didn’t care. She was trembling and begging and calling his name when he finally began to concentrate on the small bundle of nerves that was throbbing with need of his touch. He slipped two fingers inside of her and she thrashed wildly. He nipped her clitoris gently and she came hard and fast. He carefully licked her clean while she panted and tried without success to pull herself together.

He slid up her body, his cool skin rubbing against hers. Than he kissed her. She kissed him back, clinging to him desperately and revealing in her own taste on his tongue. She decided she liked that taste, a lot. He lifted her up and placed her bare ass on the countertop. She spared a brief thought to the fact that her mother cooked meals here but than he pressed himself between her thighs and she moaned and bucked against him. He turned her into a writhing slut and she didn’t care. He kissed her over and over; soft gentle kisses that made her head spin while he undid his belt and jeans pulling out his penis. God, it was hard and smooth. And even having slept with him several times it seemed impossible that something that size fit inside her small body so perfectly. But it did and she knew it, her body quivered in anticipation. She slid herself forward on the counter and wrapped her legs around him as he slid home.

He filled her to bursting, stretching her and touching her insides in the most amazing ways. She threw her head back and braced her hands behind her and just let the sensations wash over her. He hit every nerve she never knew she had, his slow steady rhythm driving her to madness. He was breathing in time with her and she loved it. She pushed up against him desperately, using her legs to pull him against her roughly. He buried his head in her breasts, touching and tasting them. When he pulled one extended nipple into his mouth and sucked she spiraled over the edge cried his name over and over while she came. “Buffy, Buffy, Buffy,” He panted while he pistoned into her with abandon and she lifted her head so she could watch him come. His eyes met hers, wide with wonder and pleasure and then he broke inside of her.

He collapsed against her, clutching her to him and breathing in her scent. She was a wreck, trembling and panting. All her muscles quivered uncontrollably and her eyelids were heavy with exhaustion. At the same time she felt beautiful and powerful. Because Spike was a wreck, trembling and panting. And she had done that to him. After a moment or two he raised his head to look at her. He gave her his patented smirk and asked “Ready for that shower now?”

There were two hundred reasons that this was wrong. Reasons that ought to make her feel disgusted with herself and ashamed. Reasons that ought to make her stake him on the spot for making her feel this good and relaxed. She decided to ignore them until tomorrow and take a shower with her lover.



13


Spike woke to the rich heady scent of his mate’s blood. Her heartbeat beating out a soothing rhythm, her breathing soft and steady. Buffy was curled around him, one of her legs between his, her breasts pressed up against him. His face was buried against her neck. He groaned. Her scent, her sound. She saturated his senses, flooding him with tranquility. Three days ago it her siren song filled him with bloodlust. Now it was just lust. Hunger could wait; he wanted to make love to her.

He nuzzled against her neck and placed soft open mouthed kisses along the side of her throat. He reached that spot where her neck met her shoulder and she arched into his touch, she liked it when he touched her there. So of course he paid it extra attention. She let out one of those low moans of pleasure that made his body sing and he nipped her. “Spike,” she whispered. He skated his hand down her spine and cupped her bottom. “Oh yes.” She moaned. He lifted his knee so that the leg between hers ground against her crotch and her sounds of pleasure got higher in pitch.

His girl lifted her head and gave him a small sexy smile. That smile would be his undoing and he knew it. But being the crazy creature he was he didn’t care and smiled back. Her eyes were soft and dewy with lust and Spike wanted her with everything he had. Baby got impatient and slipped her leg over his, sliding down onto his raging hard on. Oh Yeah. She was made for him, her body fit his perfectly. He gripped her taut little waist and flexed his fingers possessively. She braced her tiny little hands on his chest and moved in a slow steady motion. He raised his hips to meet her and must have hit her sweet spot. Cause her nails dug into his skin drawing little specks of blood and she let out a sharp little cry. So he did it again.

He loved the way the sounds she made escalated as she got closer to orgasm.
She went from moans, to cries, to calling out his name in increasingly louder tones. He loved the way she lost control, bruising and bloodying him in her passion. He loved the way she changed her rhythm and the way she rocked her hips during sex so she never hit him quite the same way. He loved how soft and firm her skin was and how he was allowed to run his hands wherever he wanted. He loved how she leaned into his touch and quivered for him.

He loved her hair, the way it smelled and looked and surrounded him when he was inside of her. He gripped a handful and pulled his Slayer down for a kiss. She bucked wildly and came hard. Her muscles spasmed around him and he rocked hard against her drowning in her scent and taste and feel. He came in shuddering bursts and pulled her down to rest on him. She shook for a moment before climbing off and standing next to the bed. She looked like she might want to say something but after a moment she turned and walked out of the room. A moment later he heard the bathroom door click.

He reached over to the bedside table for his smokes and lit one just to have something to do with his hands. When Buffy got back she would probably kick him out of her bed again or give him the: this is wrong speech. He bloody knew it was wrong. He also knew that he wanted her and that she was his damn it. She’d tried to squirrel out of his arms twice in the last few hours, both times he had pinned her down and kissed her until she couldn’t remember her own name.

Fuck if he knew what they were doing. Sex with the Slayer. Fucking Bloody Amazing Sex with a Golden Goddess more like. In over a century he’d never been with a woman who overwhelmed him so completely. He lost control with her and that was scary. She gave as good as she got and it was a Bloody miracle he hadn’t burst into flames in her hands. Dru had gone on and on about him tasting like Ashes. She must have known. Gods, was she even still in Sunny hell? Spike realized with a shock he hadn’t thought of Dru once since he had kissed the Slayer in the kitchen. He ought to be frantic to find her, but instead he was just passably worried. Spike shrugged. She had wanted to be on her own and he had problems of his own. By the time this mess with the Slayer was sussed out Dru would be ripe and willing to fall back into his arms. This would give her time to realize how much she loved and needed him.

Spike frowned and crushed out his cigarette. The thought of Dru coming back to him did not fill him with the warm glow he had come to expect. It was just a side effect of the mating. When he was separated from Buffy he would want Dru again. His mind was just clouded, in the most delicious way. The very idea of being separated from his mate brought on feint waves of panic but Spike pushed them down. In the mean time he had a gorgeous lover that made him quiver. Dru could wait.


Buffy stared at her pale features in the mirror. Her lips were swollen from rough kisses, her neck bore faint red marks where Spike had nipped and sucked. No surprise that he had a fixation with necks. The surprise was how much she liked it. The marks he’d left on her soul wouldn’t fade so quickly. She could no longer pretend that sex with Spike did anything but rock her to the core. His kisses were like a drug, his touch set her on fire. And she didn’t think it had anything to do with this bond between them. The lust hadn’t been mating induced since that first time. No this was all Spike.

Not that she should be surprised, he had over a century of experience in seduction. Learning how to use his clever hands, and tongue, and body. Yep, that would be her new excuse; she was being seduced by an expert. Except that didn’t ring true in her head either because she had initiated some of last nights love fest and participated in all of it. Twice she had come to her senses and attempted to end things but Spike hadn’t listened, just pulled her in and kissed her until she couldn’t remember her own name.

Buffy wet a washcloth and began to wash her face. Her whole body was limp with exhaustion. All her muscles completely relaxed. She felt wrung out like a limp noodle. She felt good. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so stress-free. Note to self: Marathon hot monkey sex good for relaxation. She wet her toothbrush and began to vigorously wash the taste of Spike from her mouth. The entirely too pleasant taste. She was scarred for life.

So Spike knew how to make her toes curl and her body shake. Buffy didn’t believe in casual sex just for the sake of it. And she could never have anything more with a soulless annoying Vampire who would just as soon eat people as look at them. Finding her pleasure with a killer was just wrong on so many levels. What would her friends think if they knew she had been writhing and screaming for a dead man? A dead man besides Angel.

This had to stop. He wouldn’t like it. He was much more accepting of this whole thing, living in the moment as he did. But she needed to look in the mirror and not be disappointed and ashamed of herself. She used the washcloth to clean off her thighs and shuddered thinking of how the mess had got there. She closed her eyes against the sensation when she ran the washcloth over the sensitive and swollen flesh of her sex, wiping it clean. She pulled her robe off the back of the door and wrapped the thick terry cloth around her modestly. She knew Spike would scoff but she felt more in control with her nakedness covered.

Spike was sprawled out naked in all his glory on her sheets. Completely unashamed. And why should he be? He was all hard muscle and pale skin. Her comforter had been tossed to the floor at some point. He watched her with hooded eyes while she picked it up and draped it over the end of the bed. “Got classes today?” He questioned when she just stood there like a lump.

“Uhm Yeah, but not till this afternoon. My mom’s plane is supposed to land at 9:15 so she’ll be home fairly early.” Buffy paused trying to think of the most effective thing to say to get him to hide in the basement until she talked to her mom. Spike of course took her pause as an invitation and moved in front of her on his knees faster than she could blink.

“That’s at least five hours.” He purred in a husky voice, his hands pulling loose the tie of her robe and than sliding his hands inside to caress her skin. “Warm silk you are.” He bent his head to her neck and Buffy reached up to push him away, but when her hands met his smooth skin she found herself clutching at him instead. They had to stop, this was wrong. Oh god why did he feel so good?

“Drusilla, Drusilla.” She squeaked pulling away. He kept his hands on her waist and looked down at her in complete confusion. His blue eyes were so expressive. “You can’t do this because you’re in love with Dru.” He gave her a slow sexy smile.

“Buffy, what are you talking about?” He asked sliding his hands up to cup her breasts and kneaded them softly. He squeezed lightly running his fingers from the base to tips until he reached her nipples rolling them between his thumb and forefinger. Buffy called herself nine kinds of slut as she arched into his touch and cried out at the sensation.

“Spike, this is wrong.” She whispered, hating the sound of her husky lust filled voice.

“I know luv.” He replied, equally husky and bent to flick his tongue over one extended nipple. She cried out and he took the nipple into his mouth and sucked, swirling his tongue over her sensitive flesh. He made her body sing.

“Spike, Stop, We have to stop.” He pulled back again to look at her. “Spike, I can’t do this, sex just because it feels good is wrong. I, I’m not built that way I need love and friendship and…”

“Are you asking for love and friendship?” He asked, obviously bewildered.

“No! No, I’m just explaining that this can’t happen anymore, it’s wrong.” He tugged on her suddenly sending her sprawling on top of him. He rolled her to her back and kissed her gently on the lips.

“So this is some sort of moral crisis.”

“Spike your turning me into a slut!” Her voice came out in a very undignified wail and she shut her mouth in embarrassment. She turned her head and he nuzzled her neck. He slid one leg between hers and danced his hands over her flesh.

“Slayer, you belong to me.” He whispered. He kissed her neck, her shoulder, her collarbone. His words sent uncontrollable pleasure rocketing through her. “I belong to you.” He kissed her jugular and the hollow of her throat. “S’not wrong luv, it’s natural.” He blew on her wet nipple and than kissed the other. His hand snaked down to touch her intimately and he growled “mine.” As he pushed two fingers inside of her and kissed her lips. She arched into his touch and cried out. God he made her feel so good. He pushed her legs apart and settled between them. His cock probed at her entrance a moment before he pushed inside of her. She braced her feet on the bed and pushed up to meet him. He liked that, he let out ragged sound of pleasure, so she did it again. He met her eyes and pushed into her harder. “Mine”

Spike set a hard fast pace, claiming her body as his. Kissing and nipping and touching her desperately. When she orgasmed he changed the angle of his hips and continued to piston until she climaxed again. He came with a low roar and rested on her a moment before shifting his weight off her, but he refused to let her go. She still had her robe on she realized belatedly. Hers. She liked the sound of that a little too much. She knew it, he knew it but it hadn’t been said out loud. Maybe that was what was wrong with her, her body was just confused about the nature of their relationship.

“Slayer, no sense in fighting it. Nothing’s gonna change till your Watcher figures out how to separate us. No since in being more miserable than we have to be.” Spike said as he scooted up to the headboard and reaching for his cigarettes. “Take that robe off luv.” Buffy sat up. With the robe wide open like it was it left nothing to the imagination. But undressing herself would be an admission, a concession. Oh this was ridiculous as if sleeping with him a dozen times wasn’t a concession. She pushed it off her shoulders slowly, liking the way his eyes darkened with lust. Than she crawled up next to him bringing the comforter with her. She would just have to tell Giles he needed to speed up the research.

14