Chicago, 1942


Buffy stood over the stove and watched as the chocolate melted at the bottom of the pot. Her mother used to make her hot chocolate all the time when she was young. It wasn’t actually very rational since it had always been about ninety degrees outside year-round, but it was delicious non-the-less.


A smile played at her lips. She felt slightly breathless, excited. Buffy had made a new friend. A rarity since minions weren’t usually much with the conversations and were more with the ‘getting themselves killed’ thing. Her name was Amy and she missed human food just as much as Buffy did. Amy was one of Drusilla’s minions. One of their very few females actually. Amy said that the only reason she was even there was because she looked a bit like Drusilla’s favorite doll, Ms. Edith. Buffy had noticed that Angelus liked to surround himself with beautiful women. More than half of his minions were female, and more than half of them were complete airheads. Buffy didn’t have to put up with them for long through. Angelus goes through minions pretty fast, especially the female ones.


Pouring the hot chocolate into mugs, Buffy finally noticed how quiet it had gotten. A feeling of sorrow settled in her stomach. The minions were never this quiet. In fact, they had been louder than usual tonight.


Angelus had decided to meet up with his childers, Drusilla and Spike. They had all been a bit excited about meeting Drusilla and Spike’s minions. Fights had been breaking out all day, an effort to show which minion was the most valued. Buffy had even had to put her fangs up when a few of Drusilla’s bigger and obviously uninformed male minions decided that they wanted to have a “go” at her. Buffy didn’t think anyone else would be trying to have a “go” at her tonight after that show.


She slowly pushed the swing door leading to the living room of the mansion. Peaking into the room, her breath caught in her throat. Ashes swirled in the air and slowly settled onto the marble floor. No more than thirty minutes ago there had been at least twenty minions in the room.


A feminine cry sounded through the room followed by a way too familiar male grunt. It was coming from a room at the top of the stairs. A growl came from the couch. A leg shot out and kicked the coffee table across the room. It hit the wall, splintering. Buffy stepped into the room. To her surprise, a tired and irritated looking Spike was sprawled across the coach.


She felt dizzy. Buffy had been avoiding him like the plague. She remembered Spike back when he was still William. They hadn’t had much interaction since she was more of Angelus’ minion. He had been love struck by Drusilla. Charmingly in love and followed her like a puppy-dog. Spike had been kinder than any other master vampire she had ever met. But he had obviously changed quite a bit since the middle eighteenth century. From what she had seen in the last twenty-four hours, he was nothing but anger and violence. And frankly, it scared the shit out of her. William the Bloody was one scary son of a bitch and she did not want to be on the receiving end of his rage.


Spike wasn’t Angelus. Angelus could torture and rape her for hours, but he wouldn’t kill her. For whatever reason, Angelus preferred to keep her around. Buffy had no doubt that Spike would kill her in a proverbial heartbeat. She was just another minion to him.


Buffy should have run. Spike was obviously not in the mood to be messed with. Spike was obviously in a minion killing mood. A minion-killing Spike plus a minion Buffy could equal disaster but before she could stop herself, she was slowly making her way towards the stronger vampire. Buffy stopped right in front of him. He seemed lost in thought and didn’t acknowledge her. Or maybe he just didn’t notice her.


William the Bloody is a thing of beauty. She had always thought so but seeing him now confirmed it. His hair was different. Short, bright white, and messy. He wore black dress pants and a white button up shirt. Spike looked so disheveled. His shirt was held closed by two buttons and half tucked in. Buffy had been trying not to stare at the smooth, pale skin peaking out from behind his shirt when he finally looked up at her with beautiful and confused electric blue eyes.


Her brain might as well have shut down at that point.


“I, uh,” She giggled nervously, mentally slapping herself for acting like a silly school girl in love. Buffy looked down at the mugs in her hands and slid a hopeful smile over her lips. “Hot chocolate?”


Spike looked surprised. Buffy took a step back, complete and utter terror on her face. Did she really just offer him hot chocolate? If it had been Angelus, he would have laughed in her face and viciously beat her for thinking he’d want something as weak and human as hot chocolate. But if this had been Angelus, she wouldn’t have wanted to comfort him so badly that she’d actually make the mistake of offering. She turned and practically ran into the kitchen, almost slipping on the ashes on the way there. She was such an idiot. There was no way she was going to make it through the night. What was she thinking?


Buffy hurriedly set the mugs on the counter and grabbed her coat, ready to make a heady exit out the backdoor. She had no problem hiding out in the sewers until the sun went down. But she didn’t even take a step towards the door before the kitchen door opened.


Frozen in place, she wondered if he would make her hurt extra for running like a coward. She knew Angelus would. Buffy wondered if she should turn around and face him. If she was going to dust, she wouldn’t mind the last thing she saw to be his handsome face. She decided against it. It could be interpreted as defiance. Angelus would make her hurt extra for that.


She listened to his bare feet pad on the floor until she sensed him behind her. Buffy took a deep breath in an attempt to keep from shaking too noticeably. He was so close that she could feel his cold breath on her bare shoulder. A thrill went through her. Buffy had unintentionally kept quite a few of her human habits, including breathing, despite its current uselessness. It seemed that Spike had as well.


Buffy jumped when he reached for one of the mugs in front of her. His deep voice rumbled through her, “I haven’t had hot chocolate in ages. There any of those lil’ marshmallows around ‘ere?”


Spike walked around her to check one of the cabinets. Buffy turned to face him with a confused look on her face. Her brows furrowed as she tried to figure out what exactly was happening. Had he staked her already? Because this was the last thing she had expected.


He glanced over at her and misinterpreted her expression. Spike gave her an incredulous look and said, “Don’t tell me you’ve never put them lil’ marshmallows in your cocoa a‘fore. Bloody brilliant, they are.”


Stumbling back a bit, Buffy dazedly reached for another cabinet and pulled out a bag of miniature marshmallows. Spike’s face lit up and he actually smiled as he took the bag from her shaking hands. He was about to toss a handful into his mug when another womanly cry sounded through the room.


Buffy shifted uncomfortably. She was used to Angelus’ insatiable sexual appetite and was forced to listen to it often, even participate. But she had to assume that the reason Spike was so upset was because it was Drusilla up there with Angelus. Her heart broke for Spike.


When she had first been sired, Angelus had spent about a week obsessed with her. They had barely left the bedroom once during that time. Buffy had been convinced that she was in love until he tossed her aside for the next girl. And the next girl, and the next girl.


His smile dropped and he tossed an annoyed glare towards the ceiling.


“Angelus is a bloody wanker.” Spike muttered, he chucked a handful of marshmallows into the other mug as well. He pulled a chair out at the table and sat down, placing his mug in front of him and the other in front of the chair beside him. Spike motioned for her to take the seat next to him. “Why couldn’t he have just stayed away?”


Buffy hesitantly sad down and wrapped her cold fingers around the warm mug. She’d had marshmallows in her hot cocoa before but this tasted like heaven. Again, she wondered if she had been staked. As she opened her mouth to speak, she prayed that she wouldn’t say something stupid, “Well, you know Angelus. He only wants what’s not his.”


Spike nodded knowingly and ran a hand through his hair. His other hand absently traced the flower pattern on the table cloth. He had already drunk half of his hot chocolate. Buffy wished that she had made more. “Damn fine, cocoa. How’d you bleedin’ know how much I love hot chocolate?”


His teasing put her at ease. No, he wasn’t going to kill her tonight. Unless he was just playing with her. She pushed that thought out of her head, reminding herself once again that William the Blood is not Angelus. From what she had heard, Spike was more straight forward when it came to killing than Angelus was.


She shyly smiled back at him despite her hesitation and replied, “Actually it was for that one girl, Amy. We had been talking about what human foods we missed the most. We agreed on hot chocolate so I decided to make some for us. Except she’s kind of dust in the wind now.”


“Amy… She’s the one that looked like Miss Edith right? Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. Losing my bleeding mind in here. Dru and Peaches have been going at it for fuckin hours. Needed a spot of violence.” He shook his head. “Wish the bloody sun would go down already.”


Buffy laughed, sipping her hot chocolate. “They probably didn’t even put up a fight, did they? Big bad vampire you are, they were probably scared stiff. Angelus’ at least. He doesn’t like when we fight back or run.”


“Yeah, I’m the big bad, alright.” Spike chuckled. He finished up his cocoa and stood. “Had you pretty scared, din’t I? I’m assuming I’ll see you again sometime since Angelus seems so fond of you.”


She looked surprised. Did he remember her?


“Can’t blame him for keeping you around, not with a face like that and your bloody amazing cocoa.”


And with that he was gone. Buffy drank her hot chocolate thoughtfully. She wondered how long Angelus was planning on staying. She decided she’d have to make hot cocoa again sometime soon. Preferably when she knew Spike would be around.


She giggled and shook her head. Buffy was way too old for crushes.

Chicago, 1942


Buffy grasped the door frame to regain her balance. She blinked a few times to clear her vision. The bright light brought on an instantaneous headache. Buffy wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to tear someone apart. Buffy was livid and hurt.


“I always enjoy our time together, Buff.” Angelus declared mockingly as he patted her back just a little too hard. Pain rippled through her and she could taste the blood gathering in her mouth. Buffy took a step out into the hallway and turned to face the sadistic fuck that had once again put her through hell. She raised her eyes to meet his and gave him the nastiest glare she could muster. Quite a feat when she could barely see him. Blood dripped into her eyes.


“Fuck you, Angelus.”


A big grin broke across his face. His laughter boomed, rubbing a hand up his bare chest. Buffy flinched, wishing he would shut the fuck up. He wasn’t helping her headache. “Such fire. Go fetch Dru and I some food. Worked up quite an appetite cutting your cute little face up.”


A guttural purr resounded from behind Angelus and Drusilla emerged from the darkened room. She wrapped her arms around Angelus and smiled wickedly at Buffy. Buffy hoped she wouldn’t say anything. She didn’t know how much of this vampire’s psycho babble she could take.


“Mmm, get me something...” Drusilla thought for a moment before grinning and snapping her teeth, “Pretty.”


Buffy rolled her eyes. “Aye, aye, captain.”


She stumbled slightly as she walked away. She could barely contain the snarl that threatened to spill from her lips as Angelus laughed at her once again. As she walked through the living room towards the restroom, she passed a few of the new minions.


“Andrew, Brandon, Clair. Get your shit together. We’re going out in ten.”


Clair looked at Buffy with disdain. “Who put you in charge?”


Buffy stopped walking and gave the stupid new fledgling a disbelieving look. She curse Spike once again for killing off all the minions. To say Angelus had been pissed was an understatement. But Angelus didn’t have to deal with weak, disobedient, and sardonic new vamps daily. Buffy did and it did nothing to quell the anger that had been building over the last few weeks. There was nothing Buffy hated more than new minions. They still thought that what they wanted mattered. They thought their input was valued. Buffy hoped Angelus would break this new vamp soon.


“Do you really want to do this? Right now?” Buffy asked warningly.



Clair raised her chin insolently and crossed her arms over her chest. Buffy stared. She was drained and sore and the last thing she wanted to deal with right now was a damned fledgling trying to act tough. Buffy strode purposefully towards the tall redheaded vamp. Stopping right in front of her, Buffy wrapped her fingers around the vamps neck and squeezed. “Have you ever had your throat ripped out?”


Clair’s eyes widened, she made a sound from deep in her throat. Her arms dropped to her sides and she looked away from Buffy’s intense glare.


“It won’t kill you.” Buffy said as she dug her nails into the girls throat. “But it will hurt like a bitch.”


The other two minions watched with excited eyes. Fucking fledglings. All they ever wanted was violence. Buffy was sure that they had put Clair up to talking back to her. She couldn’t bring herself to care. This vamp was an idiot.


“So tell me, Clair. Are you going to behave like a good little puppy or am I going to have to make an example out of you?”


“I’ll just go get my jacket.” Clair whispered, embarrassed.


Buffy shoved the vamp away from herself. She gave her a disgusted look, glared at the other two vampires. Stomping to the bathroom, she shouted, “Be ready to leave when I get out.”


She shut the door behind her. Buffy stared into the mirror, glad she didn’t have a reflection. She knew she looked like shit. She inspected the ends of her hair, stiff and red from dried and drying blood. Delicately running her fingers over her face, she counted the gashes. Frowned. For some reason Angelus had gone easy on her tonight. She turned on the faucet, cupped her hands to catch some of the water, and sipped at it. She swished and spat, cringing at how pink the water was.


Buffy pealed the bloody shirt off her back. Her flesh was various shades of black, blue, purple, and green. Her cuts were already starting to heal. She grabbed a rag and started to rinse the blood away. Buffy’s shirt was ruined. She tossed it into the trash bin and glanced around the small room for something else to wear.


There was a shirt laying in the corner but she could smell Spike on it. No, that wouldn’t do. She was too annoyed by that vampire to borrow his shirt. It had been a long shot to expect much from him. Spike had been avoiding her. He ignored her and when talking to her was inescapable, he was all business and unpleasant.


She didn’t know what she had been expecting. Being a master vampire meant you show no weakness and she had walked in on a sort of break down. While he had seemed grateful at the time for a distraction, now he was obviously angry at her for witnessing it. Or maybe he was angry at himself.


Buffy didn’t know, and quite honestly, she didn’t care. If Spike wanted to be a dick, he can be a dick. It wasn’t her place to judge. It was her place to deal with their fucking mood swings. Hell, she was lucky he was just avoiding her. He could be beating the shit out of her, like Angelus.


Buffy tried to rinse as much of the blood out of her hair as she could. She wished that she had time to take a shower before going out, but the sun would be up in a few hours. She growled in frustration when she realized there weren’t any towels, so she wrung her hair out as much as she could before stepping out of the bathroom. She made a quick trip to her room to grab a shirt.


The new minions were standing in the living room, waiting for her. Buffy was glad they didn’t say anything. They followed her out of the mansion.


“Get yourselves some dinner. Grab something for Angelus. I’ll get Drusilla’s. Meet me back here in an hour.” They nodded and started to walk off. Buffy called out to them, “Don’t show up here with another homeless guy for Angelus unless you want to see the sun tomorrow. “


Buffy made her way in the other direction. She needed to feed if she wanted to heal faster, but she just had no appetite. She wondered the streets of the city for about twenty minutes before she found what she was looking for. A pretty young girl wearing a long red dress. She was alone and she looked a bit lost.


“Two in one.” Buffy said to herself, “Drusilla gets dinner and a new dress.”


She glanced down the street. Seeing noone, Buffy decided to take advantage of the situation. Buffy quietly walked up behind the girl. She reached for the girl’s elbow and said in her politest voice, “Excuse me, miss.”


The girl jumped a bit and spun around just to be greeted with Buffy’s fist. The girl went down quick and easy. Buffy smiled at a job well done. This was different for Buffy. She was used to luring dinner home but she knew that wouldn’t be happening tonight. Not with the way she looked. If the girl had seen her face, she probably would have run in horror. She picked the girl up off the ground and strided in the direction of the mansion.


Buffy couldn’t help but groan with each step. Pain radiated from her hip and for the unlife of her, she couldn’t remember why. It had been a long night and she had blacked out a few times while Angelus and Drusilla were ‘playing.’ Buffy set the girl down onto the bench in front of the mansion and took a seat next to her. Sitting didn’t help the pain much but it was better than standing.


A few minutes later she could see the new minions down the street struggling to hold onto a large male human. She spared a glance at the unconscious girl next to her. The girl would be out for a bit longer. Buffy stood and jogged towards the vampires.


“You fucking dumbasses. Can one of you please explain to me why, out of all the humans to pick off, you pick the one human you can’t handle?” Buffy shouted. She slowed her pace. The pain in her hip was too much and she had to struggle to keep walking.


Buffy felt rage build in her. In actuality, she was only slightly annoyed by the minions. She hadn’t been able to tell which humans she could and couldn’t handle either when she had first been turned. She had made their mistake quite a few times. Luckily for Buffy, Angelus had wanted her around so he had helped her out. For a price. But the combination of the night’s earlier activities with Angelus, her annoyance with a certain blue-eyed vampire, and the excruciating pain emitting from her hip had her on the verge of snapping.


Clair glared at her and let go of the human. Andrew and Brandon struggled to hold onto him without her. She took a step towards Buffy. “We thought-“


“Jesus fucking Christ, do you ever shut your fucking mouth?!” Buffy pushed all the air out of her lungs. She tossed her eyes toward the sky, trying to focus on anything but the pain.


“Excu-“


Clair didn’t even get her offended reply out before Buffy was on her. Buffy’s nails sunk into her skin like butter and in seconds, Clair was on the ground. She was clearly trying to scream, but only succeeded in making revolting gurgling noises. The human froze in horror, as did the two other minions. Clair looked at Andrew and Brandon for help. Her skin was paler than usual and blood poured down her chest. Where her throat had been, was now nothing but a mess of flesh and tendons.


Buffy wrapped her bloody hand around the human’s bicep and guided them to the mansion. Andrew and Brandon struggled to keep up as they pulled Clair along.


“Grab the girl.” Buffy ordered as the passed the unconscious beauty on the bench.


Dropping Clair off in the living room, the minions trailed behind Buffy into the basement. They set the girl down against the wall. Buffy instructed the large male human to sit down next to her.


Buffy turned to the minions. “Get out of my sight.”


They left in a hurry.


Buffy clasped the shackles around the wrists of the male. As she was doing the same for the young girl, the male spoke.


“What happened to you?” He didn’t sound scared. Just curious. Buffy looked at him for a moment.


“Unlife.”


He was confused, that much was apparent. “Is that what’s going to happen to me?”


“No. You’ll have the luxury of staying dead when they kill you.”


He was quiet after that and she left.


Buffy had to walk passed Spike’s room to get to her own. She paused and peaked in the open door. The blonde vampire was passed out on his bed, shirtless, with a bottle of Jack dangling from his fingers. Typical. He spent all of his time drinking, feeding, and sleeping now days. Drusilla had tossed him aside for her sweet Angelus and he wasn’t taking it so well. Buffy tried not to feel sorry for him. He got what he deserved.


She continued her walk to her bedroom, shutting the door behind her. Except it didn’t shut. A boot had been slipped between the door and the door frame, preventing it. Buffy slowly opened it, hoping that that boot wasn’t on the foot of the vampire she really didn’t want to deal with.


Spike stared at her through hooded eyes. He was obviously still very drunk.. Buffy couldn’t help but admire his beauty. She cursed herself. She had been certain she’d gotten over her silly crush when he had started acting like an ass towards her. But how was it possible to get over such a gorgeous creature?


Spike brought his hand up and placed it onto her shoulder, tracing the strap of her bra, running his fingers up her neck and onto her cheek. Buffy stood there confused as to what he was doing. A very unmanly giggle slipped from his lips.


“Cor, luv, you look bloody terrible.”


Buffy made a disgusted sound before slapping his hand away. “Leave me alone.”


“Wait.” He murmured, grabbing her hip.


Blinding white hot pain.


And when it was gone, Spike was on the floor holding his bloody nose, cursing. Buffy clutched her hip.


“The hell is wrong with me tonight?” She grumbled, annoyed. Buffy flexed her fist, regretting hitting him. The hand that clutched her hip grazed over something small and hard. It was only then that she realized that the long needle Drusilla had used to ‘carve the stars’ into her hipbone was still inserted in her pelvis.


“Fuck.” Buffy whispered, harshly. She walked over the desk in the room, and turned on the lamp to get a better look at it. The very end of the needle could be seen poking out of her skin.


“Let me.”


Buffy didn’t even look at him. She ran her thumb over the needle and bit her lip in pain. “You’re drunk.”


He dropped to his knees in front of her and leaned in close to look at it. Before Buffy could stop him, he pinched the end of the needle and quickly pulled it out. Her hand shot out to grip the edge of the desk and she let out a strangle cry.


Spike looked up at her and smiled a big, boyish smile. Blood dripped from his nose. Despite herself, Buffy couldn’t help the start of a smile. She grabbed his hands and pulled him up to stand. He leaned forward onto her and she had to push him back a little. Buffy looked up at him. She pulled his arm to turn him in the direction of the door. “You should go to bed. You’re shitfaced.”


“Yeah, I know.”


Buffy raised an eyebrow at him when he didn’t move to leave. She gave him a gentle shove. He nodded and left, needle still in his hands.


She shut off the lamp and carefully stripped off her bloody clothes. Her tummy rumbled and she wished she had gotten something to eat while she was out. Buffy rubbed her hip once more. She threw on an oversized shirt and pulled the covers down on her bed. She was actually supposed to share the room with other minions but the new minions had been so put off my her horrible mood the last couple of days that they all crammed into three other rooms on the other side of the mansion. Buffy sighed at the feel of the silk sheets against her legs.


Buffy woke about an hour later at the feel of strong arms wrapping themselves around her waist. The alcohol-tinged scent of Spike surrounded her. She leaned into him and felt all the pent up rage that had built up in the last few weeks drain away. She smiled contently, Spike nuzzled into her hair. She’d deal with the consequences in the morning.


“I’m sorry for hitting you.” Buffy whispered before drifting into the deepest sleep she’d had in years.

Chicago, 1942


Spike inhaled deeply and a mixture of blood and vanilla flooded his senses. He moaned, pushing his nose further into the tangles of hair. He slid his hand down a flat stomach, slowing when he felt healing cuts. In an instant he knew exactly where he was, what was happening. His eyes snapped open and he was greeted with the sight of a peacefully sleeping blonde vampire.


Buffy.


God, it was almost painful how bloody gorgeous she was. Even with the discolored bruised and cut up skin, she looked like heaven. She looked very much how she had when Angelus had brought her home so many years ago.


Buffy had been unconscious when Spike had first seen her. She had been beaten and broken and Angelus had discarded her lifeless body so carelessly onto the couch. Drusilla had told Spike, in so many words, that the small blonde girl looked a lot like Angelus’ dead sire.


She hadn’t awakened that night. Angelus had given her barely enough blood for her to survive, and Spike suspected that a part of Angelus hoped that she wouldn’t. Spike hadn’t been able to keep himself from checking up on her. She had looked so beautiful in her light blue dress, her blonde hair spread around her head. He had wanted to know what color her eyes would be, obsessing over it while she slept. Spike had pictures her with brown eyes, blue eye, hazel eyes. Would they be bright like her hair? Would they be troubled and jaded? He had wanted to know what her voice sounded like. He had wondered what sort of accent she’d have. Spike had tried to imagine what her laughter would sound like.


He hadn’t even known her name, heard her voice, or seen her eyes but he had known that he was already drowning in her. And so had Drusilla. That night Drusilla decided that she wanted to visit France. And they were gone before the sun went up. They were gone before the sleeping fledge opened her eyes.


While in France with Drusilla, Spike hadn’t had time to give much thought to the young vampire they left with Angelus. Spike couldn’t remember a time when Drusilla had ever been so affectionate to him. When he’d ask her about it, she’d say that she was enjoying what time she had left with him. Drusilla had referred to him as her borrowed love. Whenever his mind had drifted to Buffy, he had always figured her dead. Angelus tired easily of people and he didn’t see why it would be any different with Buffy.


Spike forced himself to sit up, the last thing he wanted to do. He carefully tried not to stir the woman at his side. Sunlight streamed into the room from the top of the curtain, lighting up the ceiling. The red curtains casted a pink glow to the room. His head was pounding and he tried to remember how much he had drank last night. He put his face in his palm, trying to dull the sharp pain piercing his brain. “Bloody hell.”


Buffy groaned and shifted, twisting her body until she was facing him. Her arms slid over his waist and she sighed. He stiffened. Spike gently picked her hand up by the wrist and cautiously scooted so that there was room to place her hand onto the dark blue sheets. He then gingerly slipped out from under the blankets and off the bed. Staying for a moment, he gazed at her longingly. She looked so small in the large bed; all he could think about was how perfectly she had fit in his arms. Spike treaded hastily to the door, pausing once more to glance at her. A moment later, her eyes opened. Her lovely, big green eyes.


Spike looked away and rushed out the door, shutting it behind him. This was no good. This was all wrong. Spike entered his own room.


Drusilla. Drusilla. Drusilla. Drusilla. Think about Drusilla. Your sire, your love, your everything. Drusilla. Who was probably upstairs fucking Angelus, without a second thought about him.


Fuck.


He collapsed onto his own bed. Growled in frustration. Why was he so drawn to her? She was just a weak minion. He could break her in half if he wanted to. Except she wasn’t nearly as useless as every other minion he’d ever met was. And she had the prettiest smile out of every other minion he’d ever met. Spike clenched his teeth.


Drusilla and Spike had met up with Angelus nearly twenty years after he had first seen Buffy. Drusilla wasn’t as shocked as Spike was to see her. Buffy was more beautiful than he had remembered. And when she spoke… Buffy was a delicious mixture of sugary sweetness and fiery wit. And as he had felt himself getting wrapped up in her, he could practically feel Drusilla pushing him away, hear her telling him that he was surrounded in sunshine. In turn he had attempted to devote all of his attention to Drusilla, ignoring Buffy the best he could. But that hadn’t worked. And that time it had been Spike who had dragged them away from Angelus and his pet.


At some point in his thoughts, Spikes eyes had drifted closed and he had fallen asleep.


He woke a few hours later. Spike got up and hesitantly left the room. He immediately spotted Buffy sitting on the couch. Biting his lip, he contemplated returning to his room. Shook his head. No, he’d come to realize that avoiding Buffy was a lot harder than it seemed. A lot more exhausting as well.


Buffy stretched, letting out a little yawn. He watched the pain in her face. Taking in the aftereffects of the damage that had been caused to her, Spike wondered what her unlife would be like if Angelus wasn’t in love with her; if Angelus didn’t hate her for making him love someone as much as he had loved his sire.


“Mornin’, luv.” He whispered.


“Good morning.” She replied politely. Buffy didn’t look at him. He wished she would. She brought a hand up to touch her face, as if to checking on the progress of her healing cuts.


Spike ambled over to her and took a seat next to her on the couch. He kicked his feet out and rubbed his palms against his jeans, suddenly wishing for a smoke. He glanced at her. “Angelus did quite a number on you.”


“So did your girlfriend.” Buffy replied, monotonously.


An awkward silence fell over them. Spike thought back to a conversation he had at a demon bar the other day. He paused for a moment, weighing the pro’s and con’s. Spike bit his lip. He should think of his reputation. Except the words were already spilling out of his mouth and he couldn’t bring himself to regret it: “So, what’re you doin tonight, pet?”


Buffy finally looked at him, raising an eyebrow and shrugging. “Minioning. You’d have to ask Angelus, really.”


“Have you ever seen a Lilth demon before?” Spike already knew the answer to that. Not many people have seen a Lilth demon before. They were impossible to track because they traveled by teleportation.


“No, but I hear they’re brilliant. All fire, and purple skin, and—“ Buffy’s eyes widened, excitedly. “Wait, are you saying that there’s a Lilth clan around here?”


Spike grinned, pleased by her quick change of attitude, “Maybe.”


Buffy let out a quick squeal, then looked away, embarrassed by her behavior. She hesitated for a moment, thinking. A look of resolve fell over her face though, and she nodded to herself. She smiled brightly at him. “Fuck Angelus, you’re taking me. I demand it.”


It took a moment before Spike could form words, struck dumb from her smile. “Pushy lil’ chit, aren’t you?”


“Hey, you shouldn’t have brought it up if you didn’t want to take me.”


Spike chuckled at her, ran a hand through his hair. “Right then. Go get ready, kitten, and we’ll leave as soon as the sun sets. Oh and how ‘bout we don’ tell Angelus about our little outing. Yah?”


Buffy nodded eagerly, “Yeah, that would probably be all of the bad.”


Spike nodded as well. Buffy stood up and bounded to her room, only to return a moment later. “Hey, Spike?”


He turned around on the couch to look at her with questioning eyes.


“Why are you all of the sudden being nice to me?”


Spike blinked, surprised. He rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of what to say. What could he say? That he had dreamt about her every night over the last few weeks? That Drusilla couldn’t even stand to look at him anymore, saying that when she did, all she saw was Buffy? That he was tired of trying to deny it?


He shrugged and looked away from her gaze. “I’ll get back to you with the answer when I figure it out...”


She didn’t push it, for which Spike was grateful. As she left he sat there, a sense of ease washed over him.

***Read the AN for important information!***


Chicago, 1942


Buffy and Spike walked in silence. They hadn’t had a problem getting out of the mansion unnoticed. Luckily, Angelus and Drusilla had gone out themselves. Buffy had this strange feeling in her gut though. She never disobeyed Angelus and even though she wasn’t technically disobeying him, she was doing something she knew he would disapprove of. It scared her a bit, but it also excited her. And the excitement won out over any doubt she had about going out with Spike tonight.


Buffy glanced over at Spike. She didn’t want to say anything, but she was starving. She hadn’t eaten in the day before, and Buffy was sure he hadn’t had time to eat without her noticing. She wondered if he was as hungry as she was.


“So, I was thinkin’ we’d stop for a bite to eat before we go Lilth hunting. I dunno ‘bout you, luv, but I’m bloody starving.” Spike said as he stuck a cigarette in his mouth and lit it in one smooth motion. Buffy eyed him in appreciatively, a smile starting on her lips.


“God, yes. I’m so hungry that I could eat a bus load,” She replied, swinging her arms at her sides and kicking a rock.


Spike smirked. “As fun as a massacre sounds, sweets, I say we leave that to another night.”


Buffy bit her lip, pleased by the implication that they might go out together another time. She smiled over at him flirtatiously. “Another night? Careful Spike, wouldn’t want me to get the impressing that you actually like spending time with me.”


Chuckling, “And how do you know I’m not just trying to piss Angelus off by keeping his favorite vamp away?”


Buffy spun around so that she was walking backwards in front of Spike. She admired the way his cheeks hollowed when he took a drag of his cigarette. He looked so good tonight and Buffy was glad that her cuts had almost completely faded. She covered what she could with make-up. She didn’t want to feel as though she was cheating him. Spike gave her something beautiful to look at, and she wanted to say the same. Buffy twisted a strand of her now clean and silky smooth hair between her fingers.


“Uh huh, if you say so, Spikey. You can’t fool me.”


Spike let a playful growl escape his throat, grabbed her hands, and started pulling her in the other direction. His words were slightly muffled as he spoke around his cigarette.


“Well, fine. If you want we could just go back to the mansion so you can spend quality time with Ange-“


“Nooo. A big no, in fact,” Buffy exclaimed, pulled her hand out of his. She teasingly smacked his shoulder and they resumed their steady pace. “I would rather spend quality time with a bath of holy water than with Angelus.”


“And me, kitten? Where does hanging out with me stand on your wants list? Am I before or after the holy water bubble bath?”


“You’d be surprised actually.” She said. “You’re pretty high up there on my wants list.”


She scrunched up her nose as she realized what had just come out of her mouth. Buffy watched the wheels turning in his head, watched the smirk slowly spread across his face, then his tongue curl behind his teeth. If Buffy had been human, she swore she would have blushed.


“If you wanted me that badly, luv, all you had to do was ask.”


Despite herself, she couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled in her chest. She crossed her arms over her chest and jutted her bottom lip in a pout. “You so know what I meant, you meanie.”


Spike nodded, smiling at her childish pout. He took another drag of his cigarette. “Yeah, I did. So what are you in the mood for tonight?”


Buffy looked up at the moon, running a hand through her hair thoughtfully. It had been a very long while since she’d had a night to do whatever she wanted. “Well, since I’m… eh, ‘off duty’ tonight, I’m sorta feelin something… intoxicated?”


She said the last word hesitantly, unsure of how he’d respond. Buffy glanced at him hopefully and Spike gave her a brilliant smile. He wrapped his fingers around her elbow and led her in the direction of a nearby club.


---


Buffy stared into glazed blue eyes. The boy was young, with dark brown hair. Buffy tried not to think about why she had immediately chosen him when she saw the color of his eyes. She tried not to think about why a part of her wished his eyes were just a few shades darker.


It hadn’t taken much to convince him to come home with her. He was a lot drunker than she had initially wanted, but she didn’t mind. She hoped he would help calm her nerves and help her loosen up around Spike a bit more.


Stepping out of the club, she cringed as he ran his large hands up her hips. He was built quite well and stood much taller than her. He was actually quite cute, but Buffy found him too bulky, too tall, and his hair was just too dark for her taste. She giggled, trying to act intoxicated herself as she pulled him into a nearby alleyway.


“Where,” The boy paused, laughing as he tried to keep up with her and not fall on his face at the same time. “Where are we going?”


“Come on,” Buffy said, turning to face. She looked up at him through lowered lashes, giving him a seductive little smile. “I know a shortcut.”


They didn’t get very far into the alley before the boy tripped over his own feet and fell. He laughed loudly, rolling so that he was lying on his back. He still had Buffy’s hand in his and had nearly taken her down with him when he fell. He let it slide out of his hand though, to brush his hair out of his face.


Buffy laughed, gazing hungrily at him. “Mmm, you look so delicious; I could take you right here.”


He stared back at her lustily. “What are you waiting for, baby?”

She grinned. Buffy stepped over him, slowly slid her dress up her legs, revealing the top of her stockings, and lowered herself down so that she was straddling his groin. She seductively ran her hands up his chest, trying to assess exactly how muscled he was. Buffy leaned down, pressing her nose against his neck.


“You smell so good.” She whispered.


He placed his hands on her hips and pulled her down harder onto his pelvis. Buffy let out a small cry of pain. Her hip was still sore from the day before. He grunted, holding her tighter. “You’re so damn hot.”


Buffy smiled into his neck. She nipped at his jugular, her face shifting and fangs elongating, and she easily sank her teeth into it. The boy gasped and Buffy sucked harder as he started to struggle. His movements slowed though. Buffy eased on the sucking and just let blood gush and spill into her mouth. Her eyes drifted closed in pleasure. She savored the taste of his blood flavored with alcohol, arousal, and fear. Her favorite blend.


---


When Buffy reentered the club, she easily found Spike at the bar. He looked quite satisfied and minus the woman he had been talking to before she left. She made her way towards him, smiling a bit too brightly, feeling the effects of her alcoholic dinner. Apparently the boy had been able to hold his alcohol a little bit better than Buffy because she was feeling almost as drunk as he had been. She felt self conscious for a moment, wondering if she had made a wrong decision by drinking the very intoxicated boy.


Any self-consciousness she felt disappeared though when Spike spotted her. The goofy smile that bloomed on his face made her heart flutter. Apparently, his dinner hadn’t been so sober either.


“Ready to go, pet?” Spike asked as he stood up from his seat on the stool. He offered her his arm.


“Yup.” She replied, popping the ‘p.’ Buffy looped her arm with his and they walked through the club and out into the dark night together.


The streets were silent. Buffy giggled, clutching his arm tighter. “I think I may have lied about that bus comment earlier. I’m feeling quite satiated.”


Spike slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. “I dunno, luv, I think I could go for a bit more,” He wagged his eyebrows suggestively, a lazy smile on his lips, “If you’re up for it.”


Buffy stopped walking and pushed him away from her, laughing. She laughed harder when he stumbled. He laughed as well, holding an arm out in her direction.


“Keep your hands off me, you dirty old man.” She teased, taking his hand, and slowly pulling him along down the street.


“Hey,” Spike cried, incredulous. “I’ll have you bloody know. I’m not that much older than you.”


Buffy smiled at him curiously, “How old were you when you were turned?”


“Guess.”


“Hmmm…” Buffy made a show of thinking, placing her hand on her chin and looking up at the sky. “I’m thinkin’ twenty-two.”


Spike snorted, “Try again, kitten.”


She furrowed her eyebrows at him. He didn’t look that much older than her. “Twenty-five?”


“More like thirty-one.”


Buffy’s eyes widened. “Whaaaat? Seriously? Sheesh, you are a dirty old man.”


“I’m not that old.” Spike grumbled, looking away from her.


“One thing is for sure, though, you definitely aged well.”


Spike smirked at her and she looked away, feeling silly for having just said that. “What about you, luv? How old were you when Peaches turned you?”


“Twenty-one.” She announced cheerfully, Buffy walked with a slight bounce in her step. “Glad to say I’m going to spend the rest of my unlife at my prime.”


Spike’s eyebrows shot up. “Twenty-one? That’s actually surprising.”


Buffy frowned at him, offended. She thought she looked pretty good for her age. Was it the dress? Did it make her look old? She looked down at herself critically. “What’s that supposed to mean?”


“Nothing against you personally, pet. I just meant since Angelus usually likes ‘em young. Y’know, innocent sixteen and seventeen year old things.”


Buffy nodded in understanding. She knew well what Angelus’ favorite food was.


Virgins.


Spike and Buffy walked and talked together for about an hour and Buffy could honestly say she was enjoying herself immensely. Spike was funny and charming and it was just so easy to talk to him. Buffy had even said a few things she knew she normally wouldn’t have if she hadn’t have had a bit of a buzz going. She really hoped she didn’t regret anything she said to him tonight when she sobered up. Part of her knew she wouldn’t.


Spike stopped walking suddenly. He grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled her after him, off of the street. “This is the place.”


Buffy felt the excitement build as she followed him. She slipped her hand into his and pulled it away from her shirt, intertwining her fingers with his. He led her carefully through the trees and they eventually made it to a clearing. Buffy gasped.


Ahead of her the land sloped downward into a valley of sorts. At the very bottom of the valley was a group of large purple demons that looked to be sleeping. Each demon was surrounded with a pulsating fire, some with red fire and some with blue fire. They didn’t seem to be in pain. Buffy could see the large purple scales that covered them beneath the fire.


Spike took a seat on the grass at the top of the valley. He tugged on Buffy’s hand to encourage her to sit next to him. She did, sitting cross-legged, and adjusting her dress to cover her lap. She leaned toward him, their shoulders touching.


“They’re so beautiful.”


Spike nodded in agreement. Whispering, “They say that the males burn blue and the females burn red.”


“Yeah,” Buffy had heard that before. She had been wanting to see these demons for a long time. They jumped from dimension to dimension and could teleport halfway across the world in just a second if they wanted to. ”I heard they don’t have a language. Do they communicate with a sort of Lilth equivalence of human sign language?


Spike shrugged. He looked over at her, an unreadable expression on his face as he studied her awed face. “I wouldn’t think so, sweets. Lilth demons are blind.”


Buffy frowned thoughtfully. She noted how each demon that burned with a blue fire was paired up with a demon with a red fire. Lilth demons were eternally loyal to their mates. Even in death. If one mate died, the other died as well. Buffy wondered how they found their mate if they couldn’t communicate. How could you fall in love with someone you couldn’t even talk to?


She turned her gaze over to Spike, meeting his eyes. “Drusilla. She’s…”


Spike looked away from her, returning his gaze to the demons below. “Off her rocker?”


Buffy shook her head, “Well, yeah. But I was gonna say: She’s like… the love of your unlife, isn’t she?”


He was silent for a moment, his eyes still trained on the fiery demons. Finally he responded. “I guess you could say that.”


Buffy stared at him, trying to figure out exactly what was going through his head. He stood up though and sent her a wicked grin. Spike started to make his way down the slope, into the valley. Buffy’s eyes widened in a panic.


“Whoa. Wait. What? Where are you going?” Buffy asked, freaked. She quickly grabbed a hold of the back of Spike’s jacket in attempt to stop him.


He turned and gave her a mischievous smile. “Gonna get a closer look. Come on.”


“Okay, so, apparently, your dinner was a million times drunker than mine. Are you crazy? What if they wake up? They’re like twice our size, they’ll smoosh us.” Buffy replied, still pulling on his jacket. She gave him a pleading look.


But she was ignored and he continued to the bottom of the valley. Buffy hung back a bit, hesitant. She was certain that this was a bad idea, but she knew she couldn’t stop him. She followed nervously.


When Spike reached the first demon couple, he reached out to touch the blue fire. Buffy heard him suck in a harsh intake of air. Curiosity got the better of her and she edged closer to him.


“Spike?” She whispered. “What is it?”


“It’s cold.” He said, pulling his hand away from the fire. They were both surprised to see that his fingertips still burned with the icy fire. His hands were shaking from the chill the fire brought over him.


Buffy couldn’t resist. She carefully slipped her fingers into the red fire. She pulled her hand back and rubbed the flames between her fingers. Warmth spread through her body. She felt alive. “It’s warm. Not painful, burning warm. Just… warm.”


Spike stared at her burning fingertips for a moment before looking back at his own. He reached for her hand, tugging her closer. Buffy felt dizzy as she felt him gazing into her, seeing through her. His beautiful blue eyes flickered yellow, his demon struggling to be released. Her eyes wondered to his fingertips, still burning, then back to his face. There was something in his eyes, something strong and passionate, but she couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was. Buffy felt her insides burning, aching for him. Every nerve in her body was screaming at her. Take him. Have him. Love him. She sucked in a shaky breath, overwhelmed by the amount of emotion running through her body.


Spike’s head lowered towards hers and she dazedly tilted her head back. By their sides, their burning fingertips met. And as they did, her soft warm lips pressed against his cool ones.