Dreams of Forever by DarkBloodyMistress

1. Chapter One by DarkBloodyMistress

2. Chapter Two by DarkBloodyMistress

3. Chapter Three by DarkBloodyMistress

Chapter One by DarkBloodyMistress

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Dreams of Forever
Chapter 1


Disclaimer: I do not own BtVS or anything else of the sort, no matter how cool it would be to own Spike. Only the plot and any original characters are mine.

Summary: Set in the episode “Nightmares”, Buffy crawls out of the grave and the first thing she encounters as a newly risen vampire is a certain bleached blonde. What will Spike do with his interesting gift? And what chaos will happen in the wake of these events?

Author’s Note: This is in response to Challenge #45 at Bloodshedverse. I might do another challenge response or two because I found a few challenges that sparked my imagination when looking through them.

Also, many thanks to the amazing beta work by Marzbar, 2zen2, blacknblue, and especially Stephanie and Oracleholly.




Spike was making his way into town in his blacked out DeSoto, lifting a bottle to his lips in a futile attempt to inebriate himself further. The welcome sign lay in splinters behind him with noticeable tire marks. He was not happy to be here. He was not happy to be *anywhere*, wondering why he had put off dusting himself to answer the family call that had gone out days before.

His dark princess was gone; murdered by a mob in Prague. He wasn’t sure why he had fled for his life back to the States since he wished to join her in her dusty ending. But, by the time he had realized he couldn’t continue on like this – the alcohol had worn off enough for semi-clear thought – that thrice-damned family call had gone out.

As he drove through town in search a place to bunk down until it got dark, a shrieking girl suddenly darted out in front of his car and he slammed his foot down on the brakes. To keep from harming his precious DeSoto, of course; not because he cared if he ran the bird over. She was batting at a swarm of bees hysterically as she ran headlong through traffic. It didn’t surprise him too much; this was the Hellmouth after all. But then he glanced across the street to see a patch of night out of place in the middle of the day.

Curiosity got the better of him and he steered the car towards this anomaly. As soon as it was completely inside the darkness, he was finally able to get out of the car, but not all at once. First, he stuck out a hand to make sure that this weird darkness was truly safe and when he didn’t burst into flames, he climbed out.

There wasn’t anything special that he could see – well, besides the strange noonday darkness. It seemed just to be an average cemetery with headstones in rows and crypts scattered intermittently. He settled for wandering the rows, pausing by crypts to reach out his senses and wondered about the reason for the patch of darkness. It wouldn’t just spontaneously appear...but then, again, this *was* the Hellmouth.

Spike stopped when he finally sensed something. Faint. His eyes scanned the area around him but the cemetery was still empty except for him and his car. Then the ground began to move and he backed up quickly from the grave he had been standing on just as a hand burst from the dirt. After a moment’s pondering, he reached down to grasp it and aided the fledgling in freeing itself. Apparently this was what he had been waiting for.

~*~

Buffy had been relieved when her hand finally hit air, her anxiety making her fear that she would never make it out of there. Strangely, she hadn’t felt in danger of suffocating, even with the big gasps of air she had taken as panic set in.

She yelped when before she could finish digging her way out her hand was grasped in a cold hand that gave her a sharp tug. The earth broke away as she was propelled up and she flopped onto the ground with an amazing lack of grace. Rolling onto her back, she looked up at the owner of the mysterious hand and met a piercing cerulean gaze.

“Well, what do we have here?” Spike’s tongue curled behind his teeth as his eyes moved over her boldly. “And what’s your name, luv?”

*Guh, he was a hottie with a sexy accent to boot!* She licked her suddenly dry lips as she got to her feet. “B-buffy.”

“What kind of name is Buhbuffy?”

“Buffy...”

“And that’s better?”

“Fine, then let’s hear your name, Mr. Judge of Names,” she retorted and crossed her arms.

“Spike.”

Her brow went up. “Yeah, and you make fun of Buffy?”

He gave a low growl and stepped up close to her, leaning in to say in a softly dangerous voice, “I’m goin’ to enjoy takin’ control of a headstrong fledglin’ like you.”

“A what?” she gasped and took a step back, sure that she had misunderstood him. Yes, she had to have misheard him...she wasn’t...that just wasn’t possible. She turned and started to walk away. “I’ve got to get back and find my friends...help them get everything back right...”

His laughter chilled her blood and he lunged forward to grab her arm.

“Kitten, didn’t anyone ever explain to you what it meant when you woke up in the grave?” he mocked her as he turned her back around to face him, lifting his hand to trace her new bumpies with his thumb.

“No,” she said softly and shook her head, looking up at him with wide, golden eyes. “This can’t...it just can’t be right! You’re wrong!”

With an impatient breath, he grabbed her arm again and dragged her towards his DeSoto. Her shorter legs stumbled as she was pulled along. She looked about wildly, suddenly remembering that the Master had been here not too long before. What if he was still lurking about?

But then those thoughts were gone as the crazy hottie shoved her into the side of the car. A hand to the back of the neck held her in place in front of the rearview mirror as he snarled.

“Notice anythin’ missin’?”

She gasped and went limp before sliding to the ground, starting to shake her head again as she repeated over again her denial. But there it was; the proof in the mirror as it showed an empty cemetery. She looked down at her dirt-caked hands as tears slid down her cheeks. This just couldn’t be happening...

“Feel the brow ridges, pet. The nice fangs you’re sportin’. Though, would love to see the lovely face beneath,” he said as he crouched down next to her, reaching out to tilt her head with a finger. “Just got to concentrate them away. Try it.”

She gave a trembling nod after having felt the small fangs with the tip of her tongue. There was just no more denying it. After a moment of trying, the game face melted away and left the scared girl staring up at him.

“See, knew you were even more beautiful under all that.”

“D-don’t touch me!” She shoved him away. She hadn’t missed the fact that he had been strong enough to pull her out of the ground or had been lacking a reflection as well. Suddenly, anger at her situation was directed at the first handy vampire since the guilty party wasn’t present. “I’m going to find a way to fix this! This...I can’t! I’m a slayer...I’m not going to let myself become one of you!”

“A little late, pet. You are one of us. You might as well learn how to get on and I’m just the bloke to teach you.” He rose to his feet and walked up to her again, gaze locked on hers.

Her eyes narrowed on him challengingly as she reminded herself that this so wasn’t the time to be macking on the hottie. He was an evil, soulless vampire! A dangerous killer! Come on, you would have to be blind to miss the lethal look in those eyes and the way he moved... guh... *Focus, Buffy, focus!*

~*~

Oh, he was going to enjoy taming her!

Spike heard a noise off to the side. His senses told him some humans were heading their way, possibly friends of this slayer come to look for her. *Well, time to get the hell out of Dodge.*

He grabbed the glaring slayer by the arm while jerking open his car door. Ignoring her protests and struggles, he roughly shoved her into the front seat then slid in beside her flailing form. A warning growl was shot in her direction while he slammed the door shut and gunned the engine. He didn’t have time to teach her a lesson in submission as he needed to get out of there right away.

As he drove out of the cemetery back into the daylight, he was thinking of where he was going to take his new pet. Well certainly not to old bat-face so that he could take her away from him! He could already smell the prat all over the bird even if he hadn’t spotted the bite wound. So plans were changing and screw the family call, because he was heading right back out of town, but just to the motel he had passed not far from the outskirts.

Once there, he would have to get to the business of performing the ritual to transfer sire’s rights to himself. It wouldn’t take long, but she would probably rest well past dusk and he could use that time to make more long-term plans. He needed to get her to change her look away from this blonde schoolgirl thing. That was Darla’s routine and in no way was he carting around Ho-bag Jr.

~*~

Watching the scenery pass with intense interest, Buffy avoided looking at her delectable captor. He was a vampire. Evil, soulless vampire. She had to keep reminding herself of that very undeniable fact. This was not some vacation with her hot boyfriend or something equally fun to imagine while she was in denial mode. She was now one of the evil undead, being dragged out of town to who knows where to do who knows what.

Funny, though, but she didn’t *feel* evil. Did evil people feel evil? Maybe it was because she had just been turned and it sort of grew on a person. She began chewing on her bottom lip as she pondered that.

She could work all that out later. First, she would have to figure out a way to get away from this guy. Break free and make a run for it. Would Giles help her if she called him and explained calmly what happened? Would he just stake her on sight instead?

Too soon, the car stopped and they were sitting outside a small, grungy looking hotel that she had never been to. There was enough tree cover over the small building and empty lot that Spike was able to dart for the office in relative safety to sign in for a room. When he returned, he unceremoniously jerked her out of the passenger seat to pull her towards their room. She tried clawing and kicking, but a fledgling like her was easily overpowered by the elder vampire. Especially since she had so recently been turned and still a bit weak, she assumed from blood loss.

Maybe she should bide her time until she had recovered fully. Even better would be if she was gifted with an opportunity to catch him off guard.

Inside, he pushed her towards the bed then started removing his duster and kicking off his Docs. His eyes moved over her body, taking in the dirty material of her clothing where the damp soil caused it to cling to her curves. Curves still soft with youth. Just the anticipation of all that pressed to him was causing him to press painfully against the zipper of his jeans.

“You might as well get comfortable, luv,” he told her when she continued to lay there watching him.

The sound of his voice broke her out of the daze that she had been in since her eyes had locked on the impressive bulge in his jeans. Wide, shocked eyes immediately shot up to his face and a guilty blush blossomed across her cheeks.

“Wha?” she responded then blinked rapidly. “Oh...oh yeah.”

She sat up and started slipping the baby blue jacket off, holding onto the pretty thought that they were just getting some rest because it was still daytime. Yes, and then when it got dark they would continue driving to wherever he was headed. Denial was a lovely place to live.

Looking up after removing her boots and socks, she gasped at seeing that he had removed his shirt and was in the process of unbuttoning his jeans. Her mouth went dry as she watched him continue until the jeans were open and he was hooking his thumbs in the waistband to drag them down.

“Wh-what are you doing??” she demanded, getting up and backing towards the bathroom.

“What does it look like I’m doin’? Gettin’ naked and goin’ to get in bed with you. Now get back here before I decide you need to be tied down, too.”

“But...well, I’m not going to...do *that* with you!”

He paused and looked at her, making a decision. Right now, making himself her sire was more important than getting in a good shag. He needed to get it all done before it got dark and the Master could send his people out to collect her. Who knows how he would take the fact that Spike had spirited her away with him. So, maybe getting off could wait in favor of tricking her into letting him do this willingly. It would be much easier if she was compliant.

“Buffy, was it?” He left his jeans up, but made no move to do them back up. “Look, pet, right now we got business to get out of the way before it gets dark. The Master is the one that turned you, right?” At her nod, he continued, “Well, you don’t want his people comin’ after you and draggin’ you right back to him, do you? Want him turnin’ you into another of his little undead sluts like Darla, do you?”

“No,” she said softly, hating that he had a point. “But I fail to see how boinking you is much better or a way of stopping him?”

He gave a soft growl at the insult, but decided to let it go so that he could get this done quickly. “He still has sire’s rights on you and will be able to enforce them to get you to do as he wishes. When we transfer them to me you’ll be safe from him, luv. He won’t be able to force you to do anythin’ against your will.”

“And I just have your word that you’re an improvement from him,” she said, taking a step forward again. “What keeps *you* from using them the same way?”

“Well, you’ll have to take that chance, won’t you?” He cocked a brow at her then a smirk spread across his face. “And really, pet, which of us would you rather be in that position with? Me or old bat-face?”

Her blush returned worse than before as immediately her mind was flooded with vivid images of what position he was talking about.

“Well, maybe...I mean, if I had to choose between which of you it would be less grotesque to be with...I guess it’d have to be you...” she said with a sigh of resignation. “Just, uh, keep the pants on...please.”

The smirk widened as he moved to stretch out on the bed, propped on his elbow to look up at her. He patted the bed beside him and held out his hand to her. She stared at his hand, wondering why she felt like she was selling her soul to the devil by giving in so easily. But as much as she hated to admit it, he did have a point. This was better than letting the Master get his icky hands on her again and turning her into one of his little vamp skanks.

Ignoring his hand like it was a snake, she sat down on the bed and opened her mouth to lay down more ground rules. That was, she would have if she hadn’t squeaked when he suddenly grabbed her and was on top of her in the next instant.

He was enjoying the mixed scents of her fear and arousal, inhaling deeply to commit them to memory. “Now, to do this I’m goin’ to have to pretty much turn you again. Just relax, pet. It’s not goin’ to take long, and afterwards we’ll rest until it’s dark again.”

Her brow furrowed in slight confusion but he ignored it as he moved to nuzzle her neck, his hand slipping under the sleeveless top she wore. She squirmed at the intrusion and started to push at his arm, but he grabbed her wrists to lift her arms above her head. He kept her pinned to the bed while working his magic through nibbles and licks to get her to relax under him.

Satisfied that he had her where he wanted her, he transferred both her wrists to one hand and lowered the other one back to her shirt. This time he didn’t go for the feel, but fisted his hand in the material at the collar to tear it open. What did he care? He was planning on giving her his own special makeover.

Once again she found herself blushing, looking up at him with her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Dear lord... had she made a mistake by letting him get this close to her?

He felt her tense and chuckled at the bashfulness that had to be coming from a virgin. He didn’t mind training her in the ways of pleasure. It would be fun showing her everything he knew. He nearly creamed his pants at the images his thoughts had evoked and he moaned into her neck, his free hand finding her breast and squeezing.
The little gasp that slipped out of her mouth did little to curb his arousal.

“The sire thing better not have been just some ploy to get into my pants,” she said breathily.

He lifted his head to grin down at her. “Believe me, pet, I don’t need a ploy to get into your knickers.”

“You’re a pig.” Her lip curled in disgust and she started to pull at her arms.

“Oink oink,” he growled out as he shifted into game face.

He bared his fangs at her and she froze, halting her attempts to get free. Then in the next second she watched as his mouth descended to her breast, burying his fangs into her flesh. She whimpered; he wasn’t exactly being gentle in his ire. Her blood was flowing into his eager mouth, his tongue lapping at the wound and enjoying the delicious taste. He knew he was going to become addicted it.

Tonight, at least, he could drink all he wanted. He would have to practically drain her before letting her drink from him. Like he told her, it was pretty much the same as turning someone, but she was already dead.

It didn’t take long to complete the ritual and soon he was shifting the barely conscious blonde so that he could tug the covers free before wiggling them both under the blankets. He kept her tucked close to him and brushed hair from her face so he could look at her. It was strange that not even two hours before he had been mourning the loss of his sire while pondering the possibility of following her into the next life. But, here he was with a childe that he had stolen away from the head of their line.

She was sure to be a handful and would bring trouble on their heels as he drove right back the way he had come. But, it was sure to be the most fun he had had in a very long time... if ever.
Chapter Two by DarkBloodyMistress

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Dreams of Forever
Chapter 2


Disclaimer: I do not own BtVS or anything else of the sort, no matter how cool it would be to own Spike. Only the plot and any original characters are mine.

Summary: Set in the episode “Nightmares”, Buffy crawls out of the grave and the first thing she encounters as a newly risen vampire is a certain bleached blonde. What will Spike do with his interesting gift? And what chaos will happen in the wake of these events?

Author’s Note: Sorry this update took so long and I don’t see updates being too frequent between me having classes and work, as well as my lovely betas having their own lives, too.

A big thanks to my betas Marzbar, 2zen2, blacknblue, and especially Stephanie. And thanks to Niamh for her support.




Inside the Sunnydale High library, the watcher was finishing the newest entry into his journal regarding the recent bout of nightmares coming to life to attack people. It had taken awhile, but eventually, with the help of Xander and Willow, he had been able to figure out how to put a stop to the reign of terror.

What had become of Buffy, Giles knew not.

As it was, it seemed odd that she had not been with them to help stop the strange events. It was logical to conclude that the Slayer had been caught in her own nightmares; though he was at a loss to understand why she had not shown up or checked in with him once things had returned to normal. He, along with the two teens, had stumbled upon a grave marked as belonging to his young charge. The plot was little more than a hole in the ground, with signs that a fledgling vampire had dug its way from the dew-dampened earth.

His glasses came off as he flashed back to the horrific sight. He had assumed the scene to be a manifestation of one of his own worst nightmares: losing the young girl that was coming to be like a daughter to him. Even worse, that she would become one of the very creatures she hunted.

Perhaps his nightmare really had come true. The more time that went by without word from Buffy, the worse his fears became. He couldn’t call Mrs. Summers, not without raising suspicion in the woman. Although, if Buffy’s absence continued much longer, he might have to bite the bullet and call Mrs. Summers.

*BANG*

He was startled from his thoughts and turned towards the doors to the library, confused when he saw Angel. The loud alert of his presence was very uncharacteristic of the usually quiet vampire.

“How could you have let this happen?” Angel demanded without preamble.

“I assure you I have no idea what you are referring to.” Giles placed his glasses back on his nose and gave the vampire an irritated look.

“Buffy.” Angel let out an exasperated breath. “You let her get killed. Turned.”

That got the watcher’s attention. “She what? I was under the impression the grave I stumbled upon was part of the manifestation of my worst nightmares.”

“I can sense her as I would my own childer,” the dark-haired male ground out. Her signature was too faint, too removed for her to have been sired by Drusilla or Penn, or even Lawson. Which left only Spike. His wayward grandchilde enjoyed being an enormous pain in his ass. It would be just like William to go and do something like this. The cocky vampire prided himself on being the Slayer of Slayers and made a practice of seeking them out. It was logical that he would have gone after Buffy instead of answering the call sent out by the Master. Angel shared all this with the current Slayer’s watcher, doing his best to keep a tight rein on his tumultuous emotions.

“Spike?”

Angel glared at him, impatient with the stupid question. “Your books probably list him as William the Bloody,” was the ensouled vampire’s response.

“Good lord,” Giles gasped, indeed remembering what he had read about William the Bloody as he again whipped off his glasses to polish them.

It hit him full force. Buffy was dead. Undead. A vampire. Turned by one of the most notorious vampires in history and most likely going to follow in his footsteps. He forced himself not to release the strangled sob threatening to come out. He did not want to break down in front of Angel, especially when the git had come in blaming the watcher for this tragedy.

Giles opened his mouth to set Angel straight, but was interrupted by the phone’s ringing. He turned to give the blasted contraption a dirty look before answering it against his better instincts. Hopefully, Angel would slip out silently like usual.

“Rupert Giles speaking.”

“It’s Travers,” said a gruff voice and Giles instantly bristled. “We have become aware of the status of your slayer – former slayer. I can’t say I’m pleased with this, Rupert, but a prophecy *did* foretell of it. We thought it wouldn’t be this soon, though.” Travers paused for a moment. “Well, they don’t normally last long, do they?”

Giles was seething as he listened, but forced himself to hold his tongue.

“Regardless, we will be sending the newly called slayer to the Hellmouth. You should receive information on her as well as her flight information by fax within the next few days. I must say, this might be a good thing as this new girl is *much* better trained and should be less trouble.”

Giles’ teeth were grinding together and he was sure it had to be audible.

“Get some rest, Rupert. Our seers don’t foresee any trouble in the immediate future,” Travers continued, unaware of the effect of his words. “It would do well to do some training yourself. As we would like you to keep this one alive longer than the last, perhaps it would serve to have better control and more regimented training schedules with the new slayer.”

The phone line went dead moments before the receiver came crashing down on the counter.

~*~

Angel slipped out of the library halfway through the phone call, but not before hearing that there was a new slayer on the way. Maybe she would be the second chance at gaining redemption through helping her. *Hell, maybe Whistler had been mistaken when he had pointed out Buffy. Maybe it was supposed to be this new girl.*

It just had to be.

Still, if Spike knew what was good for him he would stay far away. Unless he wanted to become a pile of dust along with his new childe.

It should surprise him that he could so easily contemplate staking Buffy, but she wasn’t his Buffy anymore. She was a demon wearing Buffy’s skin and covered in Spike’s stink.

~*~

Buffy stood in front of the window, lifting a hand to finger a lock of her new hairstyle. It was a bit shorter with a shaggier cut and gelled to flip out a bit along with both highlights and darker shades streaked throughout. With her hand so near her face her eyes were drawn to the dark red – nearly black – nail polish. It went along with her dark make-up: heavy eyeliner and dark lipstick nearly the same color as the nails.

*Blegh, I’m not even thinking about the clothes he dressed me in. I hope he doesn’t expect me to dress like this all the time. I look all Vamp Ho Barbie. He better not expect me to keep this up.*

They had left the motel just before dark and driven all night, stopping to sleep for the day. As soon as it had gotten dark again, Spike had dragged her out into town with plans for his little makeover for her. First had been the hair salon then the whore clothes. The clothes he chose weren’t as scary as the fact that they had passed a tattoo parlor and he had actually paused, telling her that maybe later he would consider a tattoo or piercing for her.

The uncertainty of her fate was making her more and more anxious as time passed, which made for a not-so happy Slayer. She had no idea how long it would be until she could find an opportunity to get away from Spike. She had to bide her time until then. She needed to build up in strength, she mused while steadfastly avoiding any in-depth thought on what that would entail now that she was a vampire.

One good thing that could come from her new status was learning from her Sire how to deal with her new abilities and weaknesses. Learn the tricks of the trade, so to speak.

The vampire in question was suddenly behind her and she gave a start. She had been so lost in thought that she hadn’t sensed his approach.

“We’re goin’ out,” he said to get her attention. “You need nosh and I wouldn’t be a proper Sire if I didn’t teach you how to feed yourself.”

“I’m not hungry,” she lied, keeping herself turned away from him. Then she added flippantly, “But feel free to go out and get yourself something to-go.”

With a growl, he grabbed her by the arm and spun her around to face him. “I don’t think so, luv. You haven’t fed since I let you drink from me and the sooner you learn to hunt, the better.”

Spike started dragging her towards the door without waiting for acquiescence that was never going to come. Buffy was trying to dig her heels in and when that didn’t work she reversed her momentum towards him. Her fist came up, taking a swing at him.

Having felt her shift, he whirled around in time to duck her fist. Then he backhanded her hard, sending her bouncing off the bed to sprawl on the floor.

Everything was silent in the room except for the angry gasps of unneeded air coming from the former slayer. It galled her to no end that she wasn’t quite the terror of vampire-kind anymore, that she couldn’t easily get the upper hand with him by smacking him about. She lifted her head fractionally to glare up at him, eyes bleeding gold. Oh, the plan to simply escape had changed now and she was quite eager to feel a stake slide into his unbeating heart.

“Now c’mon, pet. So many hours left in the night,” he said, feigning nonchalance as he turned back towards the door.

“No.”

He turned back around quickly, astonishment openly written on his face. He had expected her to give in after he made it clear that he was not playing with her.

“Have you forgotten that little thing we did where I transferred soddin’ Sire’s rights to me?” His eyes narrowed on her. “I can make you do this if you don’t come along willingly.”

She lifted her chin in challenge. “Do it, but the first chance I get I’ll stake myself. I won’t murder people to give you jollies.”

He nearly choked with rage at her defiance. But, he went back to stunned as the words sank in. She had a problem with killing. He licked his lips, hoping he was wrong. *She couldn’t...No. That just wasn’t possible.*

“You have to feed.” He tilted his head and studied her face. “If you don’t, you’ll fade away and eventually dust. That’s if the hunger doesn’t make your demon go crazed and cause a bloody massacre.”

She looked down as she considered the rationale behind his words. She wasn’t afraid of dusting if she had to, just as she had threatened to do if he made her feed. Besides, she wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt of having killed someone. But, at the same time, refusing to feed was no guarantee of keeping someone’s blood off her hands – pardon the pun. She knew he was right, that she could become a revenant, a blood-crazed vampire, slashing a path of death down the western seaboard.

“I’ll...feed,” she finally said haltingly. “But...I’m not going to...kill them.” Then after a moment she suddenly had a thought and added, “And I don’t want you to do it with me there either. Actually, I wouldn’t like you to do it at all...but I guess I can’t stop you so just don’t do it with me. I don’t want to see it or know about it and would rather live in the land of blissful denial.”

Her responding ramble served to confirm his fear.

*She still has a bloody soul!*
Chapter Three by DarkBloodyMistress

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Dreams of Forever
Chapter 3


Disclaimer: I do not own BtVS or anything else of the sort, no matter how cool it would be to own Spike. Only the plot and any original characters are mine.

Summary: Set in the episode “Nightmares”, Buffy crawls out of the grave and the first thing she encounters as a newly risen vampire is a certain bleached blonde. What will Spike do with his interesting gift? And what chaos will happen in the wake of these events?

Author’s Note: A big thank you to blacknblue and Marzbar for their continued help in betaing. I’m working on a Halloween one-shot that I’ll hopefully get done and betaed in time *crosses fingers* But with beta problems I got discouraged for a bit.





Spike paced the room, a tumultuous jumble of emotions. The reigning emotion was confusion. What was he to do now? Somehow, it didn’t seem an option to beat the soul out of her. That seemed more of Angelus’ thing. It was not Spike’s style and regardless of this revelation, she was still his childe. The way he saw it, he had a responsibility to her. She was his first childe and his inner William insisted he have some honor.

He stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Buffy, who was looking right back at him with narrowed, calculating eyes. She had yet to move from her position on the floor, not sure what to make of his sudden silence.

The room was closing in on him. He couldn’t think in there. He needed to go out, find himself a good stiff drink. He needed to go think by himself.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t just leave his feisty childe here by herself. She would take off running the moment he turned his back; he wasn’t too naive to get that. So, what was he going to do with her while he was gone? He wasn’t about to take her with him.

Then an idea came to him and he pointed a finger at her with a stern look.

“I’m goin’ out to the car to get somethin’. I won’t be but a couple minutes and right outside the only door; so don’t be gettin’ any ideas.”

He straightened his duster and walked out to the DeSoto, popping the trunk open. There were chains in there that he used to use on Drusilla when she was having a bad spell, or when they just wanted that sort of fun. Right now, they would come in handy for keeping the former slayer from getting away.

~*~

Buffy moved over to the window after a few moments, curious to see what he was doing. Also, she wanted to see if he was really just outside. What she saw was Spike pulling chains out from his trunk. Alarm rang through her and all thoughts of playing along until she had lulled him into a false sense of trust immediately fled. The fight or flight response was in full force as she decided it was time to get out of there before he made use of those chains.

After a quick glance around, she grabbed a wad of cash off the dresser then dashed for the door. When she jerked it open, it was to Spike in full game face, growling angrily at her. Most likely, he had sensed her alarm through the Sire-Childe bond and rushed back to the room when he correctly assumed what she had been about to do.

“I thought I told you to stay put, kitten,” he ground out with a hint of deceptive sweetness. He stepped into the room, forcing her back. “You really don’t want to see me when I stop bein’ nice.”

“What are the chains for?” she asked boldly, choosing to ignore the not-so-veiled threat.

“I need a drink, which means I got to go out – without you.” He purposefully didn’t elaborate about the drink, not caring if she assumed he was about to go feed. Maybe he would. He gave a dark chuckle and nodded towards the door, saying, “And as you just proved, I can’t rightly just leave you here and expect you to be here when I get back.”

“You can’t just chain me up for who knows how long.”

Her eyes had widened slightly again. She started backing up further, but he grabbed her arm and dragged her towards the bed. The chains were still clutched in his other hand. He forced her down despite her struggles with a knee across her chest just below her neck. Wrestling her arms into place, he was eventually able to get her wrists secured above her head. With that done, he took an unneeded breath, watching her also indignantly huffing large puffs of air indignantly.

“Now, be a good girl and some day we won’t have to do this,” he told her as he got back to his feet again. “And if you prove to not be as annoyin’ as I think you’d be, I might even take you with me.”

“I’d rather drink holy water,” she muttered.

He leaned in close. “I can arrange that.”

“The minute you leave, I’ll start screaming until someone comes to help me.” She gave him a sly smirk, not intimidated by him in the least.

“Thanks for remindin’ me, pet.”

Turning about, he spotted her old clothes on the floor, discarded when he gave her the makeover. He grabbed them up and returned to her side to shove the panties in her mouth. He gave her a cocky grin and bent to press a kiss to her lips before tearing her old shirt into strips so he could tie the gag in place.

“You’re such a good childe.”

He left the room, laughing at his own joke. She still protested, muffled by the gag, but he just ignored her even though she was sure his vampiric hearing picked up everything. When the door shut with an air of finality, she kicked at the bed angrily, giving into the urge to have a tantrum at her situation. *Damn me for opening my big mouth!*

~*~

Spike’s mood was back to sour as he paced the streets in search of a place to get himself pissed. It had been some time since he had found himself in this city and he hoped at least some of the old demon bars were still about.

Besides a good drink, he needed to start putting out the word that he, William the Bloody, a.k.a. Spike, had turned himself a slayer and in the process bagged his third. It would serve to up his status in the demon community while hopefully shaking out some information on turned slayers from the grapevine. Undoubtedly, someone was sure to mention if it had been done before.

The plan went by the wayside like many of his plans tended to do. Sure, he was able to get a bit of bragging done before he got too drunk to remember why he was in the bar. Then he was thrown out of one bar and went on to another, only to be thrown out again.

That was how he ended up in the graveyard surrounded by a near mountain of empty bottles.

Once the alcohol started affecting him, it came back to him that he hadn’t had much time to grieve Drusilla before the familial call came. Then it had been a sort of whirlwind, getting to Sunnydale only to stumble across a vamped slayer then running back out of town with his new childe.

The emotional vampire slumped against a headstone, alternating between tears and rage. He wasn’t sure who he was angry with: Buffy for having a soul, him for maybe having thought to use Buffy as a replacement for Drusilla, or whatever powers for dashing his hopes of Buffy replacing Drusilla.

Once again, despair rose up in him at what he was going to do now that he was stuck with a souled childe. Perhaps to some extent she would turn out to be a replacement for Drusilla in that he would probably end up taking care of her, too. Some part of him wasn’t allowing for the possibility of just dumping her off somewhere, not with all the trouble she might be in. Surely, the watchers’ council would make sure to take care of this loose end once they heard about it. The Master would be after her and sending his minions. Then who knows what other dangerous people would be after her for being what she was.

He let out a ragged breath. As her sire, he had a duty to teach her to be a vampire, and he had a duty to look out for her. Even if many vampires didn’t take that seriously, for some reason *his* demon was. Part of him was suspicious that his inner William might have something to do with it as well. *The pillock is a sucker for a pretty face; always was.*

He dropped the empty bottle and started digging around, hoping there was another bottle he hadn’t used up yet. No luck. He pulled himself to his feet and decided to make his way back to the hotel, seeing as it wasn’t long until sunrise.

Upon reaching the room, he stumbled to the bed and collapsed without even making the effort to remove his duster. The only notice he took of the lump in the middle of the bed was to throw his arm and leg over it before passing out.

~*~

Buffy was glaring at the ceiling after trying shift to get a little relief only to have the wino curled around her just pull her tight against him again. And *ew*, that so better not be what she thought was pressed against her thigh, hard and *oh my god, he can’t seriously be that big*.

She tried to wiggle again and this time he let out a groan before starting to thrust against her leg.

*No, doggy! Bad, doggy!!*

She kept wiggling to get away, but this only served to provoke more of the same response from the sleeping vampire. She tried to force herself to keep still, hoping he would go back to sleep and stop humping her leg like a rabid spaniel. For a moment, it seemed like it had worked until he slipped his cool hand under her top to grasp her breast.

“Mmm, Buffy…” he groaned into her neck.

She fought the bolts of electricity that shot through her, not sure she wanted to wait to see what he was going to do next. Deciding to give it a shot, she started screaming through the gag in her mouth, trying to wake him up before this went too far.

A kiss was pressed to her neck and she stilled, momentarily thinking he was still doing his sleep molestation.

“Knew I could make you scream, pet,” he said and gave a chuckle that rumbled through his chest.

She turned her head sharply to glare at him. She briefly wondered if he had been awake all along; she couldn’t be sure.

He plucked the panties from her mouth finally and tossed them over his shoulder. “There, I can clearly hear your sounds of pleasure now.”

“You pig! Were you awake the whole time?” she demanded angrily.

“The whole time?” He quirked a brow. “And just what was I doin’ that got you riled up?”

Her eyes widened. He *had* been asleep. Then she narrowed them coolly again. “Nothing.”

“Nothin’, eh?” He smirked at her. “Nothin’ wouldn’t make you scream like that.”

She scowled even more then asked pointedly. “First, tell me what you were dreaming about and I’ll tell you why I screamed.”

He misunderstood for a moment. “You saw the dream?”

He took the pointed tone to mean she knew but wanted him to voice it out loud for his embarrassment. He nearly panicked at the thought that their Sire-Childe bond might be strong enough that she had seen the *very* graphic dream.

“No, and that’s probably a good thing. I have no wish to see inside your head,” she replied with disgust.

He was relieved she hadn’t witnessed the dream, but at the same time angered by the insult. He ground out, “Then why would you want to know ‘bout the dream?”

“Fine, just forget about it and me screaming.” She sighed and shifted a bit in another vain attempt at getting comfortable. “Now that you’re back and reasonably sober, I don’t think we need these chains anymore. Can you please unchain me so I can sleep comfortably?”

“Tell me why you screamed,” he persisted in a velvet tone, leaning in close.

“Tell me what you were dreaming about.”

They locked gazes in a stand-off. Neither was willing to back down. Both wanted to win and weren’t willing to give any ground. They were practically nose to nose, electricity virtually arching between them.

Their lips came crashing together and the stand-off ended. Buffy strained against her bonds to lean into him while Spike’s hand slipped back under her top. He resumed groping her breast, throwing a leg over her thighs and grinding his erection into her. He moved his mouth down to bite at her neck with blunt teeth.

“Please, unchain me,” Buffy gasped once she could speak.

He moved to fully straddle her before sitting up to look down at her. “I quite like seein’ you like this, though. But, I’d hate to have to ruin the clothes I just bought for you if I tried to undress you like this.”

“I kiss you and you think you can boink me?” She lifted her chin stubbornly. “Man, give a guy an inch.”

“I can smell your arousal, pet. And if you were better at usin’ your vampire senses, you’d smell it, too.” He inhaled deeply for emphasis with eyes closed in ecstasy.

“That is *so* gross.”

“No, it’s bloody wonderful, it is.” He ran his hands up her arms to rest on her bound wrists. “I think I can be a bit generous and unchain you. You’ll remember this bit of niceness later, yeah?”

Her lips pressed together for a moment before sighing. “Yeah.”

“Look,” Spike said tiredly, not fooled by her ready acceptance. Even after only a couple days, he knew her too well. “I’m your Sire and whether you like to believe it or not, I’m takin’ my responsibility to you seriously. I’m even willin’ to work with you about the feedin’. So now I ask you, what other s’posed evil, soulless vampire would be willin’ to do that?”

Buffy swallowed hard as she looked up into his serious eyes. “I – I...well...”

“Don’t get me wrong, though,” he said while unchaining her, setting the chains in the chair beside the bed. “I’m not goin’ soft and you give me reason to, I’ll stop bein’ so nice with you, got it?”

She nodded mutely. She wasn’t sure what to make of his little speech. Did she believe him? Why would a soulless vampire be acting that nice towards her? To get in her pants? Or was it really because he felt responsible for her as her Sire? She would just have to wait and see, making sure not to let her guard down too far.

He was rubbing her wrists where she had faint red marks from the chains. She found the action strangely sweet. She told herself to snap out of it and stop letting herself forget what he was.

“Tonight we’ll see about gettin’ you some nosh.” He laid back down beside her, taking back up his position entwined with her. “For now, we got ourselves several more hours of daylight to sleep away.”

Buffy did her best to relax, unsure what to do with her arms now that they weren’t chained above her head. She reluctantly rested an arm across his waist, telling herself it was just because it was the comfortable thing to do. No way did she want to cuddle up to a soulless killer. Nope. Not her.


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