The courtyard was bathed in muted sunlight, the old fountain still as dried up and decaying as she remembered it. It had been a while since she had been here but nothing seemed to have changed. The poison ivy still crept up the walls; the potted plants were brown and wilting, it was almost exactly how it had been when she’d seen the place last.

Buffy pulled the brim of her sunhat lower as she felt the heat begin to warm unpleasantly against her neck. She walked slowly to the door and found it slightly ajar. Pushing it open gently with her hand she stepped into Giles’ apartment. It too looked exactly as she remembered it. With the exception of several books spread over the coffee table and floor.

The Slayer walked quietly into the living room, removed her sunglasses, and picked up one of the books titled “Glamour Spells.” Frowning, she picked up another one, “Healing and Recuperation Chants for the Advanced Spellcaster”. Buffy set the books back down and sat on the couch as she glanced over the pages of the open books. They were all magick books, all the same kinds of spells. Ones to conceal blemishes, or heal cuts and bruises, spells to aid recovery. Pages had been dog-eared, phrases underlined in pencil. Anything that related to scarring had been made note of, tiny scribblings in the margins – concerned with whether these spells were authentic or not.

“You can’t help me with spells,” she said simply.

“I can try.”

Giles stood in the archway of the kitchen, not looking at all surprised that she had sensed him there, unannounced. She turned to him; closing the book in her hand and putting it back neatly on the table. His apartment might have looked the same but Giles didn’t. He looked older. She hadn’t really noticed it before but his hair was greying and his eyes always seemed weary now. Buffy knew she was the cause of his premature ageing. Just one more thing to feel guilty about.

The Watcher took a step into the room, flinging the tea towel over his shoulder. “Not that I’m displeased to see you, Buffy, but I can’t remember the last time you ventured over here.”

“I can,” was all she said.

“Tea?” He offered, gently.

She shook her head and took her hat off, fiddling with the brim. “I’m sorry, Giles.”

“That’s quite all right. Just means there’s more tea for me.”

Buffy looked at him as he smiled at his own joke and she smiled back, laughing a little. Giles seemed delighted by this and looked as though he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. After a moment he turned around and walked back into the kitchen, filling the kettle up with water and heating it up.

Buffy stood and walked slowly into the kitchen, the long skirt gliding against her legs. She hadn’t worn a skirt in a long time. She leaned against the wall and watched as he spooned sugar into a mug, added a splash of milk and a teabag.

Giles turned back to her. “You’ve nothing to apologise for, Buffy. I should have handled the situation better. I am, after all, your Watcher. I was responsible for you and I didn’t…”

“Protect me?” Buffy stood upright and looked down at the floor. “Giles, I’m the Slayer. I didn’t dodge the attack in time, what could you have done?”

He folded his arms and said resolutely, “I should never have let you fight those demons. We were unprepared, outmatched and you weren’t ready.”

She shrugged slowly. “It was my idea to go and slay. I needed to. I needed something to take my mind off of…”

“Angel,” he murmured quietly. “I knew why you were out slaying every night. I knew you were emotionally vulnerable but I thought it might be beneficial to use your hurt and anger and channel it into slaying. I was wrong. I should have stopped you.”

“Newsflash, Giles; I’m pretty stubborn. I would have gone to that cave, anyway. But I probably would have gone alone and gotten killed,” she replied, looked up into his eyes sincerely.

The kettle abruptly started to whistle making them both jump a little and Giles made an apologetic face. He poured the hot water into his mug and stirred the liquid around with a spoon before scooping out the teabag and dropping it in the bin. Blowing on the tea, he took a sip and regarded her seriously. Up until recently she might have flinched or squirmed at his intent gaze but now she just returned it.

Giles cleared his throat. “Buffy…I’ve noticed a…change in you. You seem more at peace with yourself, which I’m glad about. However, I have been wondering what has brought about such a change in heart?”

Buffy paused a long moment before answering.

“Trust.”

+ + +

The grass was cold against her body; her skin seemed to glow against the backdrop of the night. So did his.

They were in the park, a secluded spot; Spike lay between her legs, his head over her shoulder as they lay recovering from a session of alfresco sex. Buffy wound her arms around him and stroked the hairs on the back of his neck without even realising what she was doing.

It was strange that she wouldn’t even feel slightly embarrassed lying naked in a public park with a very naked vampire on top of her. Earlier she had protested that if someone were to come along and see them she would stake Spike and then herself out of shame. Spike’s only reply had been that if anyone came across them in this state that they’d probably die from the sheer beauty of them both. That had gotten an eye roll from Buffy but nevertheless he managed to convince her. He always did.

She sighed and closed her eyes as he kissed her jaw line, nuzzling his face into her hair. With their chests pressed together, she could only feel her own heartbeat. It might have felt odd to her if that wasn’t all she had ever known. She had only ever had sex with vampires. There was something wrong with that, she knew, but she didn’t have any effort left to think too much about it.

Suddenly Spike growled. Buffy frowned as he pulled away to look her in the eyes. He looked angry.

“What?” She asked, suddenly not feeling so at ease.

Spike’s hand touched her neck. “You’ve been bitten.”

Buffy knocked his hand away and covered the bite marks. “Yeah. It happens sometimes. You must have noticed it before.”

“Yeah, well, tonight it bothers me. Who bit you?” He demanded, scowling.

“You really want to know?”

“I knew it. It was him, wasn’t it?” Spike shook his head. “Bloody Angelus! Gets everything he does.”

Buffy balked and pushed him away, sitting up. “No, not Angelus. Angel.”

“Oh, right. That’s completely different,” he snorted.

Buffy wondered for a moment what the hell his problem was until she realised it was fairly obvious. Spike was a vampire. He wanted to bite her. He was jealous because Angel had bitten her, what he didn’t know was that she had made him bite her. To save his life. She wasn’t just a willing meal for any bloodsucker. She had loved Angel but she never would have let him bite her for recreation. It just wasn’t who she was.

“I know what you want but –”

“But you don’t trust me.”

This floored her. She hadn’t expected her earlier words to Giles to be thrown back in her face like this. When she had told her Watcher that it was trust that had changed her she wasn’t lying, because she had set herself an ultimatum. Either she agreed to trust Spike completely and continue seeing him or she had to kill him. She had chosen the former option and even now with him being a possessive, egotistical vampire she knew she couldn’t kill him. It just wasn’t an option for her anymore. Buffy was in too deep, deeper than even she realised.

She shrugged slowly. “You want to give me another scar, Spike?”

He had the decency to look pained at that.

“It doesn’t have to scar,” he assured her. “Only right vicious bites scar. He must have really bit you hard.”

Buffy looked down at the ground. “You have no idea.”

“Oh, you like it like that, do you?”

She looked up. “No. He was dying; I did it to save him. He had no control over what he was doing.”

“Right,” Spike seemed sceptical. “Well, there’s the difference between me and him. I have control. I know how to make it hurt just enough. Make it hurt in all the right places.”

Buffy admitted to herself that he had a way of making things sound so damn appealing. But then she had the suspicion that he could be reading a list of groceries and with that accent it would sound sexy. She sighed and looked up towards the sky, the breeze blowing softly against her skin.

“Promise you won’t kill me?”

He chuckled a little. “Promise.”

“No scars?”

“No scars.”

Buffy looked his face over, trying to look for any signs that he would be lying to her. She wasn’t sure she could tell anymore, anyway. Trust. Trusting Spike was just something that she had to do. She was well aware he wasn’t the most reliable person to entrust with her body but it was a test she was determined to pass. She wanted to be able to let people in again, without automatically assuming they were lying to her, revolted by her, or about to leave her. Spike was like a pilot test for integrating herself back into society, so to speak.

The Slayer lay back down on the grass and Spike was back on top of her in an instance. He smiled and moved his head to her neck. She placed her hands on his chest.

“No, people will see it.”

Spike’s smile broadened. “Then I’ll just have to go somewhere nobody but me gets to go.”

Buffy frowned and watched as he began to move slowly down her body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. By the time he had reached his destination of her inner thigh Buffy was tingling all over. She looked down as he tilted his head up to grin at her. Buffy then quickly averted her eyes and found herself trembling in a mixture of anticipation and nerves.

When his tongue quickly flicked out to taste her skin, Buffy’s back arched and she had to grab at the ground to stop herself from fleeing. Things lower down in her body began to throb with need. Spike made a noise of approval, his fingers playing with her almost casually as she writhed around. He bit down.
Buffy gasped involuntarily.

Spike had been telling the truth when he said it wouldn’t feel like it had with Angel. Angel’s bite had been full of vigour and hunger, the lines between pain and pleasure blurring irreconcilably. Buffy had always been a little bit in love with pain ever since that night.

This bite was different. It was full of hunger of another kind. Not for her blood, exactly, but for her surrender. Spike wanted her to completely submit to him and he took the blood from her veins slowly, swirling the red liquid in his mouth like a fine wine.

All the while his fingers were inside of her, teasing and explorative, but never offering anything close to release. Buffy closed her eyes and felt the pull of his mouth, felt her life being drained from her at a leisurely pace. It was almost as though a line was being pulled through her body, touching all of her erogenous zones, on its path to her groin.

She began to feel faint but it didn’t bother her and she didn’t tell him to stop. She opened her eyes and looked down at him. His eyes were closed, the expression on his face one of pure adoration. Buffy wondered at that, at what exactly he adored, before she let out a guttural moan as he sucked harder. His fingers curled forward to manipulate a part of her that had never been touched before. All Buffy had time for was a sharp intake of breath before the orgasm hit her completely by surprise.

Then things started to get a little wonky and her eyes felt like they rolled back in her head and she passed out for a minute before waking up and finding herself staring at the stars.

Spike’s face appeared in her line of vision. Her blood coated his bottom lip and he licked it away when he realised.

“You still with us, love?” He asked, putting his hand on her cheek gently.

Buffy pulled a face trying to look around. “Us? Who…oh god…did someone die from the beauty of us?”

Spike laughed loudly. “I think you’ll be just fine.”