Buffy carefully descended the stairs adorned in her period garb. Seizing the railing with a steady grip, she felt some uneasiness, due to the fact she was unable to see the steps beneath her feet. After several steps Buffy lifted her gaze from the hidden stairs, to the door, as she moved with a newfound confidence and grace. Once her eyes lifted, the pointed toe of her shod foot caught the hem of her dress. The combination of Slayer strength and her forward motion, created a ten-inch separation that spanned from one rib to another. The multitude of layers in the skirt, pulled away from the bodice.

Instinctually, to stop her from tumbling down the stairs, Buffy clutched the railing with her other hand. With equal parts awkwardness and clumsiness, she plunked herself upon the steps that were located behind her inelegant form. Tears streamed down her now flushed cheeks. Upon the commotion, Willow ran from Buffy’s bedroom. Beholding her fallen friend, Willow asked with concern,

“What happened?”

"Another failed attempt of me trying to be a normal girl! That's what happened!" Buffy sobbed.

As Willow descended the stairs, a loud thumping sounded from the front door.

“Buffy…Willow, what happened? I’m coming in!” Xander yelled from behind the wooden barrier.

“Xander, hold on!” Willow instructed him. Willow proceeded to address, in a calm tone, her visibly upset friend. “Buffy, let’s get you off the steps. We’ll take a look when we get into your bedroom, ok?”

After her soothing words, Willow aided Buffy, as she called out to Xander,

“Xander count to fifty then let yourself in. We’ll be down in a few. Buffy’s had a slight wardrobe malfunction. No biggie.”

Once they were within the sanctuary of Buffy’s room, Willow approached her teary counterpart and evaluated the damages. After several moments, Buffy inquired,

“Well, do you think we can fix it?”

“You tore it clean through. It would take a lot of sewing Buffy, a type of sewing that would take longer than we have to get to Snyder’s voluntary trick or treating festivities ASAP. We don’t have enough time. I’m sorry,” Willow explained with sadness lacing her words.

“Can’t we use pins, glue…staples? Anything?” Buffy implored.

"Sorry. You'll have to go as something else," Willow stated, with a look of regret.

“I can’t Will! This was for Angel! I just can’t!” Buffy exclaimed with renewed salty tears.

“Buffy, I know that this was for him, but you have no choice. I would like to spend some time with you in the next, say two years, and I won’t be able to if Snyder has you in detention from now until graduation!” Willow defended with a huff.

“You’re right. Ok, what to be? What to be?” Buffy asked as she ungracefully flopped down upon her bed.

“You…you can wear this,” Willow stuttered as she pulled on her short leather skirt. Her actions were a half-hearted attempt to hint to Buffy what she truly meant.

“What? No, that’s your costume Will! Remember, sexiness for Xander?” Buffy exclaimed.

“Buffy, honestly I was just going to cover this with my ghost costume anyway. Really, like I said before, sexy for me equals spaz. You wear it. Oh…I know what you can be! A vampire! Like you said, tonight is for going as you aren’t!”

“Well, I don’t know.” With Willow’s ‘resolve face’ in place, Buffy finally agreed. “Fine, the Mistress of the Dark is I. Are you sure you don’t mind giving me the clothes, literally off your back?” Buffy inquired.

“No, like I said, I was going to ghostify it anyway. Let’s get going! Only…ten minutes left!” Willow announced as with a flurry of motions, each girl removed their clothing.
Quickly, re-doing her hair and makeup, Buffy proceeded to change into Willow’s outfit; an upper thigh-length black leather mini-skirt and a cherry, red long sleeved mid-drift shirt. This risqué top, not only showed off her toned abdomen, but an ample amount of cleavage as well. Buffy continued to add her own black fishnet stockings and black, shin-high Doc Martens to complete the outfit. As she gazed at her reflection in her full-length mirror, Willow stood behind her with a huge smile, gracing her full rose-stained lips.

Buffy’s golden hair was amply filled with waves that were slightly teased to add to the fullness. Severe dark slate-gray shadow donned her lids accompanied with a heavy coat of midnight black mascara upon her upper lashes. This combination framed her green eyes. Her full lips were covered with a shiny red, cherry flavored gloss. As she stepped away from her reflection, she commented.

“Okay…vampified! The only problem is. How do I look more grrrrr?” To demonstrate her meaning, Buffy placed two fingers on both sides of her mouth to symbolize fangs.
“Oh, I got it!” Willow began to rummage through her backpack. After several moments, she held up a pair of fake fangs in triumph.

“Xander bought these with his gun at Ethan’s yesterday. Gag gift for Giles. These will work perfectly!” Willow bounced on the balls of her feet with excitement.

“Cool, let’s jet. Don’t want to spend the next two years in Hades with Principal Snyder!” With that, Willow placed her ghost costume on, and they exited her room. In the foyer, Xander paced back and forth as he awaited the girls' arrival. Once he became aware of the two girls, he commented.

“Well, it’s about time! There are tons of candies waiting for my tummy! What took you guys so…” Xander’s voice drifted off as he viewed Buffy in her ‘costume’.

His mouth hung agape, like a fish on a line, as Buffy descended the stairs. Quickly, to conceal his stunned reaction, he mocked a cough, as he turned immediately to open the door behind them. To the ladies, this appeared to be a chivalrous gesture. Xander had ulterior motives; the heavy wooden door was required to shield the growing erection housed within his camouflage pants, which was caused by his wet dream come true.

As the trio walked towards the high school, Xander’s eyes were fixed upon Buffy. First he tried to walk behind her. His traitorous mind thought, “Ass hot, definitely no good for erection minimization.” Next, he had chosen to remain alongside her form. His disloyal gaze wandered to her cleavage. “Again no good. Well, undeniably of the good, just not completely helpful!” Xander thought to himself.

Once the trio arrived, each was to man a small group of eight children, for the Trick or Treat festivities. The green-eyed monster flared slightly within Xander’s mind, as his jealously for the ‘little ankle biters’ that would spend the night with Buffy. After a heavy sigh, he sluggishly walked over to his midget flock.

The evening proceeded without incident, which was a refreshing change. For once, since being called as the Slayer, she could walk around at night, without the responsibility that it was required of her to slay some Big Bad. Prior to this voluntary outing this evening, Giles had informed her that the ‘baddies’ actually appeared to take Halloween off. For reassurance, in case Giles was wrong, Buffy tucked Mr. Pointy within the confines of her boot.

As the evening came to a close, Buffy’s Trick or Treaters begged for a few more houses. Upon their high-pitched pleas, accompanied with numerous stretched out ‘pleases’, Buffy relented and ushered them towards the next house. As the group gathered upon the walkway, a wave of mystical energy blazed forward and stunned several members of the group, including Buffy. The sheer force from this overwhelming power knocked her upon one knee, head bowed.

Brief moments passed, as she attempted to attain her bearings. Leisurely, Buffy perused her surroundings. Instantly, her five senses intensified, as each was perspicacious to her environment.

Her vision was exceptionally clear. The world encasing her appeared, as it was mid-day, with the bright rays of the sun illuminating all within its path. Not the middle of the evening, moon partially hidden by the clouds. With a slight shift of her head, Buffy could hear two streets over, a child crying over not getting the same candy his brother did.

All at once, her three remaining senses; smell, taste and touch, converged and filled her mind. With a deep inhale, she could smell and almost taste the blood, which pulsed under the delicate skin of the children nearby. As she breathed deeper, she was struck by a scent. Pervading her completely was the overwhelming essence of a vampire. Upon further thought it was determined it was not just a mere vampire, more specifically the heady irresistible scent of a master vampire. Fueled by her irresistible desire, she leapt from upon her knee and sprinted towards the direction of his trail. All the while her mind chanted.

'Must find my mate…must find my mate…'

As the swirl of residual vampire dusk dispersed into the air, Buffy resumed her search. Each male she approached was less worthy than the last, to be her mate. The fury that these insignificant creatures brought forth demanded her to remove their heads with one fatal twist of her powerful hands.

Buffy raised her nose into the air in an attempt to recapture his scent. She breathed deeply, as the essence of a powerful master vampire, the only one that could ever be worthy enough to be her mate, washed over her senses. As his raw, undiluted essence of sexuality and power rolled over her tongue, it proceeded to dampen her panties and filled her with unbridled lust. Once she picked up his trail, her stalking gait increased to a burst of speed.

As Buffy continued to track her chosen mate, her memories brought forward the vision of his razor-sharp cheekbones, full sensual lips and intense cerulean eyes as he’d approached her in the alleyway behind the Bronze. His sarcastic applause for her defeat of a lesser vampire rang throughout the empty space as he stalked closer. As they’d traded brief introductions, Buffy’s heart raced staring at this vampire that could bring any woman, even the Slayer, to her knees with an utterance and a twisted smile.

Even as his speech threatened death, his deep baritone voice caressed his words like liquid fire, which made promises of the forbidden. Promises of pleasure, lust and desire filled her mind as she focused on the bringer of death before her. He was a complete walking contradiction; a face of an angel with a body made for sin.

As his true essence surrounded her, Buffy’s mind dispelled her memories, as the reality of his presence made her body hum with delight. She slowed her pace as she saw him, in the distance. He was surrounded by smaller demons that were eager to please their new master. With her approach, he turned to face her. The angel of death for his kind was she, the Slayer.

“Well, well, what do we have here? I was wonderin’ what juicy morsel that this eve had changed you into. My, my Slayer, I didn’t figure you as one to tart up like that,” Spike purred as he stalked closer to her frozen form.

Buffy looked upon the prize she had searched for. She lowered her body to the hardened ground. Kneeling down, eyes closed, she barred the silken unmarred column of her throat and whispered.

“Master,” Spike’s pace abruptly stopped as this submissive word and action reached his sensitive ears and eyes. Spike approached with hesitation as he studied the formidable woman that knelt at his feet, offering the sweetest blood that a vamp could partake in. Even though she was in a position of complete submission, this didn’t mean that she wasn’t resourceful. This Slayer could stake his arse dead, well more dead, if he didn’t approach with caution.

“What kind of game are you playin’ at Slayer?” Spike growled as he advanced slowly on red alert. Buffy’s eyes fluttered open, as she retained her position.

“No game Master, well not now anyway. I’m here to offer myself to you. In blood and body, to do as you will,” Buffy purred. As Spike's gaze scorched over her form, her wayward hand slowly descended her neck, continued over the swells of her breasts, and finally reached its destination, her clothed mound. Her hand hovered slightly there, before it fell limply by her side.

Spike was entranced as his eyes absorbed the vision before him. His cock swelled with borrowed blood, as it pressed against its denim confines. As his hungry gaze studied her, infuriation filled him as the thought of being played by this tiny warrior, rang throughout his mind. In several steps, he stood before her. Lighting quick, he leaned down, grabbed a handful of her golden locks, and tore her from the ground.

“Slayer! Not wise to anger me. I wanted to taste your blood in the heat of battle, anything less would not be fitting for a warrior’s death. This doesn’t mean that I won’t drain you dry right now and toss your body in the gutter with the other empty Happy Meals with Legs!” Spike snarled as he shifted in game face. In her true form, Buffy’s defiant gaze met his as she responded.

“Believe me Spike, my body and blood aren’t offered to you lightly. There are many vamps that are dust in the wind because they were not worthy of my offering. I thought that of any vampire that calls Sunnydale their home, you would be vamp enough to take the challenge. Maybe I was wrong.” Buffy’s words snapped back, as she pulled from his grasp.

The primal force of this tiny fierce warrior had been his obsession, since he first saw her dancing in the Bronze that first night. This fixation took hold while he was alone, late in the day, while Dru was sleeping. His hand would wrap around his cock as the thoughts of this golden goddess filled his mind, while he brought himself to an unsatisfying completion.


Her biting words struck deep. In a flash he was on her again. His left hand wrapped in her flaxen tresses, as the fingers of his right hand roamed over her pulse point. Immediately, his hand pulled away as if it was burnt. Spike then tilted his head to listen. Nothing was heard. The Slayer no longer held a heart beat under her bronzed skin. Spike harshly bowed her neck, first to the right, then left, as he closely inspected the tantalizing columns of flesh.

The only mark that marred her skin was the old scar from that bat-faced bastard, the Master. Otherwise, it was beautifully flawless. Like a blank canvas that awaited for a painter to place his vision there. Spike’s mind then remembered the small fleet of new demons that were created tonight. Dru’s words rang in his mind.

‘Don’t worry. Everything’s switching. Outside to inside. It makes her weak.’

As his grip remained firm, Spike leaned forward, as his deep intake of his breath, brought her essence into his lungs. Under the fragrance of spun sugar, sunshine and purity laid the fire and sheer power that this woman had yet had the pleasure of truly tasting, the primal force that was her birthright of being the Slayer.

Spike’s raspy tongue snaked out from his full lips, as he stroked his talented muscle thoroughly over her throat. Buffy’s neck arched completely, to grant him total access to her sensitive skin. Her eyes rolled back as her heavy painted lids fluttered and then closed. A rumbling possessive growl was emitted from Spike’s throat as her shear presence overtook him.

Once her initial tang permeated his taste buds, a familiarity underlined her essence. She was not only a woman or the Slayer, but also something else. Spike pulled her heavenly throat away from him as he intently studied her face. Despite all the makeup, she was still a young girl. Her cheeks still full, yet to lose their roundness with age, her lips a perfect pout that would have any schoolboy creaming his jeans upon sight. As her eyes opened, he could see the wonder of life and hope that still filled her stunning emerald eyes.

“Show me!” Spike commanded as his golden amber gaze bore into hers. As Buffy reached down to grasp the hem of her shirt. Spike’s hand stilled hers.

“Not what I actually had in mind pet, well not right this moment. I was really requesting your true face,” Spike explained.

Buffy’s bee-stung lips curved into a naughty grin as she gracefully shook her head, bringing forth her demon. In a word, she was magnificent. Her forehead was ridged, giving her a look of a majestic feral cat. It sloped into her now golden eyes. Her mocking smirk housed two razor-like fangs that flashed pearly white against the ruby stain of her lips.

The sight of her got Spike harder, if that were at all possible. The desire to be cock and fangs deep in this tasty morsel, over rode any present thoughts of killing her. Spike licked his serrated grin at the promise of her potent blood flowing over his tongue as it traveled down his throat. A deep growl emitted from his chest as the temptation to taste her became too great.

Spike struck lighting-quick, as his fangs pressed into her tender throat. Only the tips punctured her creamy skin, as two small beads of ambrosia bubbled to the surface and slowly flowed downward. Spike greedily lapped up her blood, as he ran his gifted muscle from the bottom of her throat upwards. Once all the blood was tasted, his eager tongue danced inside his mouth to distribute her essence throughout.



“Take me Master, take all of me…NOW!” With a whoop of laughter, Spike grabbed her by the hand and ran off the closest private place that he could have worship this bundle of fire.

The recently created demons, followed obediently behind the couple as they ran. Off in the distance Spike saw an abandoned warehouse. He knocked down the boarded over door, with two kicks and scooped up the laughing Slayer. He looked over his shoulder and spoke brusquely to his new minions.

“Guard the door. Do not let anyone pass or your entrails will be the garland for my doorways!” With that command, he hurried quickly into the bowels of the vacant building.

While Spike carried his treasured bundle, she placed small nips and licks upon his alabaster skin. He couldn’t wait anymore to sample every delectable piece of her. Spike noticed a metal workbench that would work perfectly. As he held her tightly with one arm, he used the other to scatter the long forgotten tools away as he cleared an area for her luscious body.

Spike gently placed her atop the waist high metal workbench. Buffy’s legs immediately parted, to welcome his muscular body in the cradle of her thighs. He shifted from his demon visage quickly, as his now cerulean gaze roamed over her form. Buffy mirrored his actions, as her demon melted away. She then coyly leaned back so he could take his fill of her offering.

“So Master, where shall we begin? Fuck or feed?” Buffy purred in a husky voice. As Spike’s tongue snaked out from between his teeth, he grabbed her by her hips and growled.

“No need to choose,” With that his mouth crashed upon hers. Their joining was a flurry of lips, teeth and tongues, as they tasted each other fully. Spike pulled roughly away from her lips as he began to trail his hungry mouth down the column of her throat. He placed bites with his blunt teeth on her responsive skin. Buffy’s back arched as mews of pleasure flowed from her throat.

As he feasted, his hand cupped her pert breast roughly handling the mound. Buffy brought her legs up around his hips, as she then hooked her ankles around his slender waist. Spike removed his mouth from her neck as his lust-filled gaze drank in the wanton beauty before him. Head thrown back, nipples sharp points under her barely there top, shallow shaking breaths that she no longer needed. Spike needed more. His hands fisted into the flimsy fabric of her shirt, and with one rough pull split the shirt in half.

Buffy’s head snapped up as a wicked smile graced her swollen, thoroughly kiss lips. As she brought her form forward, she began to run her hands in a tantalizing manner over her breasts as she spoke.

“So Master, do you like my pretty titties? As much as they like you?” Buffy cooed as her fingers plucked her erect nipples in their silken confines.

As with her shirt, Spike grabbed the silken fabric and pulled it from her body. Buffy’s pert mounds spilled forward as Spike attacked them with vigor. As his talented mouth feasted on one breast his hand harshly fondled the other. Buffy’s hand plunged into his bleached locks as he played her body like a finely tuned instrument.

“Oh…ummm…Spike…yes…that’s it baby…" Buffy moaned.

Spike hungrily swapped his attention on each breast. As her pleasure mounted, Buffy forcefully pulled his hair. In retaliation, he growled, shifted to game face, and then his fang pierced her erect nipple. A scream tore from her throat as she continued to hold his head to her breast. After several suckles, his face shifted again as he licked the remnants of blood from her mound. Spike ground his erection into her core as he feasted. When he finished, he spoke.

“Need to taste more of you baby.” Spike purred as he ran his hand down the middle of her breastbone as he urged her to lie back.

Spike’s mouth descended down her creamy skin, as he placed heady bites and lengthy licks upon her flesh. His talented hands then reached behind him, to unhooked her legs from his body, as they started to ascend over her stocking thighs. His greedy hands slid under her leather skirt and slowly traveled to her covered core. Once he reached the top of her thigh-highs, he growled.

“Naughty, naughty Slayer. Let’s see what type of knickers you have on.” Buffy propped herself up with her elbows as she responded.

“Nothing to see…nothing there,” Buffy cooed.

“Plannin’ on given the baddies in this town a glimpse of your sweet cunny Slayer? Should rightly punish you for that. Nobody will see, taste or touch your sweet quim but me!” Spike growled as his fingers worked at the outside of her dampened folds. Buffy’s head hung back, as she moaned from his ministrations.

“That’s it kitten, give me some cream,” Spike purred as he removed his fingers from her core and licked them clean. Her head snapped up, to witness his lips and tongue feast upon her spendings.

“Don’t you want it straight from the tap?” Buffy offered as she wiggled her hips in an attempt to entice him.

“Oh yeah…can’t hardly wait. In point of fact,” with that Spike dropped to his knees as he placed his hands on the back of her knees. With a sharp jerk, he dragged her body forward. The motion bunched her skirt around her waist as he gingerly draped her legs over his leather-encased shoulders. Spike’s hands traveled deftly upwards toward her core as her heady scent of arousal overwhelmed him.

Spike placed licks and bites upon her thighs as he worked toward her center. As he reached her core, he stared in awe as he took it all in. Her neatly trimmed curls framed the sweetest peach he’s ever seen. Her rose-colored lips glistened with moisture, as her tiny pearl-like clit pulsed with desire. The pointed tip of his tongue flicked from his pursed lips, as he tentatively tasted her. A growl erupted from his throat at her taste. She tasted of honey and milk, sweet and nourishing.

“More…give me more,” Buffy mewed

with a flattened tongue, Spike ran a forceful path from the bottom of her opening to the top, purposefully missing her clit. Buffy’s breath hitched as her back bowed from his attentions. After several passes of his dexterous tongue, he placed his mouth over her opening and sucked her folds inward. Using his teeth and tongue, he feasted upon her core. Buffy’s hips thrust upwards as she ground against his face in search of more friction. Spike could feel the quivers of her thighs and core, which signaled her impending orgasm. Spike continued to devour her, as he awaited his sweet reward. With a rush of sweet nectar her orgasm filled his mouth. While his tongue collected her spendings she mewed her content.



“Oh…more…Spike…I need more!” Buffy growled, as her hips started to gyrate again.

Spike brought his hand up, as his fingers toyed with her opening, as his tongue flicked and nibbled on her distended clit. Spike entered two fingers into her core and was quickly taken back at what he found, her maidenhead. She was still a virgin. He pulled his face away from her core as he stared at the wanton goddess above him. What he witnessed was a contradiction to her true state. Her head thrown back in sheer pleasure as she toyed with her breasts and pinched her nipples into glass-like points.

“I’ll be her first to taste her in every way. The Master doesn’t count. I will mark her as mine, inside and out!” Spike’s mind shouted.

With a deep growl, he fastened his mouth to her sodden core again as he worked his fingers gently into her tight fiery depths. As he felt another orgasm crest, he skillfully brought her to the brink. As she hovered briefly on the edge of sheer bliss, he pushed through her barrier as her orgasm tore through her body again. Spike worked feverishly to catch every drop of her spendings, a combination of cum and virginal blood. This heady combination brought his demon forward as he continued to collect his well-earned prize.

After she was thoroughly cleaned by his gifted tongue, he carefully lowered her boneless legs off his shoulders. Spike stood over the now sated Slayer.

“When did she become his?” Spike’s mind thought. When Buffy’s cloudy gaze met his as she whispered.

“Come to me, be in me Spike,” he couldn’t dispute the answer. She was his from the very beginning. Buffy sat up, and started to remove Spike’s leather from his muscular form.

She ran her nails over the alabaster skin of his forearms that were now exposed, from the removal of his trench. Buffy then ran the sharp points over his muscular chest, down his toned abs and stopped at the buttons of his black denims. Buffy then leaned forward to capture his mouth with hers. Her lust renewed when she tasted herself on his lips and tongue. Buffy deftly unfastened each button until her knuckles then caressed the velvety softness of his erection.

Spike lowered his jeans to give her better access to himself. Buffy’s hand wrapped around the flesh encased steel. She worked her hand, from the belled head, to the base with slow twists of her wrist as she descended. On the ascent, she rotated her wrist in the opposite direction. Each movement brought growls from his chest as they battled for dominance with their mouths. Spike placed both hands on her pert ass, as he dragged her hips forward to meet his.

Spike pulled his mouth away from hers, as his erection posed at her sodden entrance. The head of his cock hovered at her heated entrance, before he slowly entered her body with care despite the fierceness of their relationship. Spike’s eyes rolled into his head as her warmth consumed him. She was no longer as warm as human flesh, but she still had retained some heat. In addition to the warmth, her tight inner walls strangled his cock, as he tried to gain some semblance of control. Once he was fully seated and had possessed some restraint, he spoke as he gazed into her eyes.

“Thata girl. Now sweetness, tell me, who’s your Master?”

“You Spike. You’re my Master,” Buffy purred.

“That’s right. Don’t you ever forget it!” With that, Spike’s hips started to piston in and out of her snug core. The table shook with the forcefulness of his thrusts as Buffy moaned and mewed in delight. His hips continued their assault while his deft fingers reached down between them and tweaked her clit. His action triggered a third orgasm, which strangled his cock. He briefly slowed his movements due to her overwhelming tightness. As her muscles released, he then continued his fierce pace. One of his hands moved from her ass upwards, to wind into her golden tresses as she bared her throat to him.

Spike shifted to his vampire visage as his fangs pierced her tender throat. As he savored her blood, Buffy returned in kind, as she plunged her fangs into his flesh. As they feasted upon each other, the tempo of his hips remained the same. Buffy pulled from his throat first. As her mouth dripped with his blood, she declared.

“Mine!” Then she immediately stabbed her razor-like fangs back into his alabaster skin.

Without thought, Spike pulled away from her neck and echoed.

“Mine!” Upon his utterance he returned to the column of her throat. Another orgasm tore through her body, as he was fangs and cock deep. Without warning Spike’s climax slammed into him. With a demonic roar, he spilled his dead seed into her fiery depths. As his hips slowed in tempo, a flash of mystical energy consumed them.

Once the glow dissipated, their movements stopped as each realized, what had just happened between them. Buffy slowly removed her mouth from Spike’s shoulder, her eyes widen at the taste left in her mouth. His blood. Spike removed his fangs from her neck, as he felt and heard her heartbeat return.

As they both slowly moved back to look upon one another, confused green gaze met with equally confused golden ones. Spike shook his game face away as he stared at the tiny woman in his arms. Now that her heartbeat had returned, his cock felt encased in liquid fire. Due to her blood and her scorching depths, his cock pulsed back to life.

Buffy’s eyes widened as she finally realized the compromising position she was in. She placed her palms in the middle of his chest and with a shove; she pushed him out and off of her. As quick as lightning, she fled from his embrace. Buffy hastily grabbed a discarded jacket from a peg that hung by the closest exit, as she fled into the night.

With blood on his lips and her spendings on his cock, Spike stood there stunned as he watched her disappear.

Once the fog cleared from his lust-riddled mind, Spike irritably redressed and headed out from the warehouse. All his new little readymade minions were gone. Bits of costumes and bags of candy left in their wake. Spike wasn’t concerned with them. The only person that scorched his thoughts was her…the Slayer.

His senses were saturated with her. Flashes of her body, head arched back, in fits of passion, flickered in his mind’s eye. His dead skin prickled with the sensation of her heated core still wrapped around his cock, as her temporary fangs pierced the pale alabaster skin of his shoulder. The heady ambrosia of her arousal that clung to his being, tickled his finely tuned predatory nose. His ears still rang with her pleas and mews of her pleasure, as he had feasted on her heavenly skin. The taste, her taste had brought him to his knees. It still does. Her essence of power and fire, mixed with her spendings and blood made an elixir his body craved like nothing before.

He craved a violent kill, several, to scrub his being from the Slayer. Spike stormed into the night in search for a cure for his new addiction.

As the rays of the dawn prickled the horizon, Spike returned to the warehouse. His stomach was filled with the blood of numerous, nameless people, but he was far from sated. Each neck he tore into, the blood didn’t quell his desire, his hunger. They all tasted foul, a weak substitute to the glorious, life-giving blood of her.

One of his victims was specifically chosen, since she resembled the Slayer. She was a young, probably still in high school, girl with shoulder length blond hair, more bleached than golden. She had crystal blue eyes instead of green. Breasts fuller, then the Slayer’s. However, her ample flesh held that undeniable firmness and fullness of the young. As she prattled on about him being her ‘Blondie Bear’, he tore her throat out as he slammed his fingers into her quim, as he held her pinned against the brick wall of the Bronze. He tried to fuck her, but his willie wouldn’t corporate. It must have been her incessant verbal diarrhea that had it pullin’ a turtle.

The failure to perform had NEVER happened to him before. The outrage caused him to sever her spine as he yanked her throat to his jagged mouth. She was dead before he fed. When he left to find another, her listless eyes stared blankly at him, as he kicked her away from him like a stray dog.

As he approached the room that he shared with his dark princess, he heard an earth- shattering scream that struck him to the core. He knew that she had sensed what his night entailed. With a deep, unneeded breath, he walked to where she was. She stood in front of a furnace, as she was mindlessly feeding the flames' bundles of clothing. On closer inspection, she had fueled the fire, with her prize possessions, her dolls. Drusilla’s incoherent ramblings were mingled with whispers and growls as she continued her task at hand.

“Luv, sweetheart, what are you doin’ with your dollies?”

“They need to be punished. Punished for the lies that they tell me Spike.” Dru shrilled as she continued.

“What lies princess?” Spike asked as he stepped closer.

Dru turned quickly from the fire, in full game face. Blood smears covered her cream colored linen chemise. Her raven hair was pulled from their usual soft barrel curls as they lay in wild tresses upon her crown. More blood trailed from her mouth, but Spike couldn’t smell any human on her. After he spied her wrists and arms, he knew where the blood had come from.

“Spike they told me that you went into the sun! They said that my dark knight went to another, a golden haired maiden. No longer to be mine. They all leave me Spike. Daddy, Grand mum, and now you. I’m so alone. No one cares for the princess any longer.” Dru’s vampire visage melted away as tears started to fall from her aquamarine eyes. As Spike went to approach her, her crimson red talons struck out and laid four bloody scores in their wake across his once unmarred cheek.

“You reek of her! Her essence is intertwined with yours! Where does my sweet William begin and that horrid bitch end? You are she and she is you. Only death will separate the two,” Dru mumbled the last two sentences several times as she rocked her body. Her heavy painted eyelids fluttered as her eyes rolled, when she entered into a trance-like state.

Spike dropped to his knees, in penance as his head hung heavy with shame. He had shamed himself. Shamed Dru and worse off shamed them. The love of his undead life, he had distressed and disgraced for a brief tumble with another, the bane of their existence, the Slayer. He and Dru had other sexual partners, but they were usually fuck and feeds only. What had transpired with the Slayer tonight had surpassed that tenfold. He could understand her displeasure. Spike looked up to his dark princess while she still murmured her earlier words,

“You are she, and she is you. Only death will separate the two.”

He was usually pretty good at translating her ramblings. This time he didn’t understand, until his mind thrust forward a memory of earlier tonight.

“Thata girl. Now sweetness, tell me, who’s your Master?”

“You Spike. You’re my Master.”

“That’s right. Don’t you ever forget it.”

Spike shifted to his vampire visage as his fangs pierced her tender throat. As he savored her blood, Buffy returned in kind.

“Mine!” Then she immediately stabbed her razor-like fangs back into his alabaster skin.

Without thought, Spike pulled away from her neck and declared.

“Mine!” then he returned to the column of her throat

Spike stumbled and fell onto his leather encased back, as these visions tore through his mind. Another shrill screech pierced the air as Drusilla saw what Spike had remembered. She landed into a heap of tears and screams as she tore at her hair and scalp in an attempt to remove the images from her mind.

Spike tried to crawl over to her, to give her some comfort for his indiscretions. Her arms and legs flailed as she tore at her herself, then at him, once he approached. Only his hands and face were marred since the rest of his body was covered with denim and leather. Even though she was his sire and older than he, Spike could overpower Dru due to her frail state. After several moments, he spoke to her.

“I’m sorry my princess. I’ve failed you. I offer penance. I will walk into the sun, if it would please you. What shall I do to prove my eternal love and devotion to you?” After several moments, Drusilla started to rock, eyes again rolled back as she started to snicker with glee.

“You are she and she is you. Only death will separate the two.”

“Dru, I don’t understand. Please just tell me, no riddles.” Spike whispered in her ear. As his words reached the small piece of sanity that lay underneath all the craziness, she spoke.

“Bring me a gift of your love, sweet William. Not gifts of gold, dresses or dollies. The gift of ultimate sacrifices your mate’s head on a silver platter. Then and only then, will you be with your dark princess again. Her head on a pike…Spike!” With that, shrieks of insane cackles filled the air.

Once her laughter reached his ears, he knew that she was gone. He gently pulled her from the floor tenderly carried her over to their bed tucked her under the duvet and slowly turned away. Spike headed to another room of the warehouse. When the minions awoke tonight, he would instruct them to hunt for Drusilla and those that did not take care of his black queen would face punishment worse than a trip into the sun. In the dark recesses of the room, he lay in an old battered chair. Chin tucked to his head on into his chest as he fell into a dreamless sleep.


Across town, Buffy laid motionless in her bed. Shades all drawn, covers cocooned around her battered body. Last night, everything that transpired after trick or treating, remained a blur. Only flashes of scenes played in her mind. When these memories came to her, it was like she was in the body of the person that bestowed her body with these immense pleasures. She could see her own head thrown back as he lavished attention upon her neck, breasts and core.

Buffy blushed as one of the visions showed what he saw as he was between her splayed thighs. Fingers deep in her center, his talented mouth partaking in her dampened folds. Her own hazy gaze stared back at her, as her depths showed the pleasure that this man dispensed upon her heated flesh.

Buffy rolled over as she mashed her face into the cool pillow to soothe the heat that flooded her cheeks. She shifted her body, as her erect nipples grazed across the cotton. A mew spilled from her lips as a small portion of the desire that she felt last night flared again.

Buffy could feel her cotton boxers dampen with her arousal. Again she rolled and lay supine on her mattress. She pulled the comforter from her inflamed form, as her hands traveled over her ample tender mounds. Buffy plucked her nipples into sharp points with one hand as the other traveled to her heated core.

She slipped her hand deftly under the waistband of her cotton shorts as her fingers searched out her moist center. Her digits found her folds as a soft sigh of relief filled her room. Two fingers circled her entrance as her thumb tattooed a soft beat upon her descended pearl. As her orgasm crested, her thumb lingered longer, as she ground into the swollen nub. She climbed higher and higher as she ascended the pillar of pure bliss. When she was on the brink, her mind filled with the deep baritone voice of the mystery man from last night.

“Thata girl. Now sweetness, tell me, who’s your Master?”

With the voice still buzzing in her head, her two fingers entered swiftly into her core, as her orgasm tore through her body. Buffy burrowed her face into her pillow to staunch her cries as she rode through the waves of completion.

As her breathing started to slow, her fingers slowly pumping into her heated depths, she heard another voice, her own, pervaded her mind.

“You Spike. You’re my Master.”

Buffy pulled her fingers from her body and shorts lighting quick. She sat up instantly as this realization permeated her mind. As she raised her other hand to her mouth, she whispered.

“Oh…my…god…I had sex…sex…with…SPIKE!”

After her mind processed what actually happened last night, Buffy proceeded to tear the sheets off her bed. Once that was completed, she started to strew her clothes from her still heated body. She then immediately went into the bathroom to wash away last night and this morning’s spendings.

Buffy shivering form stood in the shower until the water ran cold. She then dragged her exhausted body back into her room. Luckily, her mother had replaced her sheets. She dressed mindlessly in warm, comforting clothes. As Buffy slid under the new crisp sheets, she then tunneled into the comforter in hopes of a dreamless sleep to take her.

Several hours later, a light rap on the door, brought Buffy out from the realm that lay between asleep and awake. A few minutes later, as soft voice carried over to her supine form.

“Buffy…it’s me, Willow. Can I come in?” The door opened slowly as a muted light spilled from the hallway. Buffy gingerly sat up and propped her weary body against her headboard.

“Sure Will, come in. Please shut the door, the light is bothering my eyes,” Buffy’s raspy voice responded. The door closed quietly behind Willow, as she entered tentatively into the room. In her hand was a steaming cup of, cocoa, or at least that’s what it smelled like.

“Your mom gave me a cup of chocolately goodness for you. Here, I’ll put it on the end table,” Willow stated as she placed the mug next to Buffy. Willow stood as she stared at her bedraggled friend. After several beats, Buffy moved over slightly to leave a space for Willow to sit on the side of her bed. Willow’s excited voice broke the silence.

“You should have seen what happened last night!” Willow whispered with excitement, in order to not let Mrs. Summers hear their talk. With wide eyes, she continued.

“Everybody turned into their costumes! Well, not everyone, only those that bought their stuff from Ethan’s. I died and became a real ghost! Xander became some Army guy! All the little kids too! There were all these pint size demons running amuck in Sunnydale…”

Buffy’s thoughts pulled away from the conversation at hand and started to think back to last night.

‘Must find my mate….must find my mate….’

“And then I could walk through walls! Pretty cool. So I found Giles, he was still in the library, go figure. Anyway, we did a little research. Well, he did research I just stood there being all ghostly. Then he asked me where I got my costume…”

‘Well, well, what do we have here? I was wonderin’ what juicy morsel that this eve had changed you into. My, my Slayer, I didn’t figure you as one to tart up like that.’

A deep sexy voice filled her mind and dampened her panties. Buffy inwardly shook herself and tried to focus on Willow’s words.

“So I guess Giles fixed the problem, because hey, solid now!” Willow announced as her arms opened wide.

“Sounds like an exciting night. So, everyone that wore items from Ethan’s became what they were pretending to be?” Buffy asked

“Yeah…ooh my god! Buffy, did you become grrrrr?” Willow asked as she held her fingers up to her teeth, in mock fangs.

“So, that explains why I was one of the card carrying members of the undead last night. Yeah, I was one with the grrrr last night,” Buffy said with a sigh.

“Are you alright? Did you find any other vamps?” Willow asked with concern.

"Master."

“Uhhh? Oh yeah. I did run into some vamps. Since I was one, not such a big deal.” Buffy commented with a shrug of her shoulder.

‘No game Master, well not now anyway. I’m here to offer myself to you. In blood and body, to do as you will.’

“Buffy are you sure you’re alright? You kinda look….”

“Like death warmed over? Well, kinda makes sense. I’m just not feeling right. Between my head and stomach, I think that they’re in competition with one another to which one will explode first.

“Poor Buffy. I’ll let you rest. Tell the gang not to bother you. Since you had a significant night last night with some big bad and need some major R & R.” Willow stated cheerfully as she stood.

‘Believe me Spike, my body and blood aren’t offered to you lightly. There are many vamps that are dust in the wind because they were not worthy of my offering. I thought that of any vampire that calls Sunnydale their home you would be vamp enough to take the challenge. Maybe I was wrong.’

”Okay, with that spaced out look, that’s my cue to leave. Call me later if you’re up to it. Take care,” Willow stated as she left the room with a gentle close of Buffy’s bedroom door.

Buffy laid down, head burrowed under her comforter as she tried to will her eyes to close so she could let sleep to take her. Upon the closure of her eyes, his voice echoed in her head again, which caused shivers to her very core.

‘That’s right. Don’t you ever forget it.’

Monday mid-morning…

Giles stood among his private stacks searching for references in regard to Spike and his century old paramour, Drusilla. Once Spike had literally crashed upon the scene at Parent Teacher’s Night, he and his paramour became pivotal players in the Hellmouth. Giles was determined to gather all the pertinent information needed in ultimately defeat these new threats.

As the library door swung inwards, Giles put aside his books to meet the new guest. His breath caught at the sight before him.

“Good lord Buffy, what has happened to you?” Giles gasped, rushing to her slightly swaying form. Buffy was dressed in drab gray sweat pants and a matching baggy sweatshirt. Her normally glowing flaxen hair was dull, and pulled into a loose ponytail. Wayward strands hung limply next to her pallid face. Her lips appeared to be chapped; with several deep cracked lines that looked as if they had bled at one point. She appeared to be severely dehydrated.

“Hey, not feeling too good. I’ve been in bed since Halloween night. Mom wanted to take me to the doctor, but I convinced her otherwise. Well, until I puked again this morning, after a small sip of tea. Now I’m doctor bound. I convinced her to let me collect my work from school. Luckily, she still falls for the pouty lip, or I wouldn’t be here. I only have twenty minutes while mom runs to the gallery. My one question to you Giles is, what the hell is happening to me?” Buffy asked as she slowly pulled the large, dark lenses of her Jackie O’s glasses from her face.

Giles azure gaze widened further as he saw what appeared before him. Large bluish-black crescent shaped blemishes stained her pale skin lying below her listless, green eyes.

Giles gently placed his arm around her upper back as he escorted her to the closest library chair. Buffy silently thanked him with a glance. They sat in brief silence before Giles spoke.

“My dear, you mentioned Halloween. Were you also affected by the spell placed on the town by Ethan Rayne?”

“Yeah, I became the Queen of the Damned,” Giles’ eyebrows lifted in want of an explanation, she then proceeded. “Long story short, the costume I was supposed to wear, well let’s just say I had a major wardrobe malfunction. This was of the good, because if it had been worn it, I would have meant a meal for every vampire out there. A coiffed debutante doesn’t make good with the ass kicking. Anyway, I decided I would go as a …vampire,” Buffy whispered the last word.

Giles pulled his glasses from his face as he started to polish them with his ever-ready white hanky. Continuing to clean, he asked,

“What were you thinking? So you became a vampire? A slayer became what she was made to kill?” Giles scoffed.

“Look Giles, you said that Halloween was like Christmas to vamps. They all take the day off! Plus, how was I to know that some creepy guy was going to place a spell on Halloween costumes?!? What’s next? People can’t leave milk and cookies out for Santa. This might welcome some snack monster to attack! Plus, I was not made to kill. I became a slayer because some stuffy Watcher guys decided they wanted evil to be fought. Not by themselves, but by somebody else, a teenage girl no less while they sit on their pompous, lazy British asses in England!” Buffy snapped as she glared at Giles.

As Giles watched his young slayer speak, he swore her eyes flashed gold. However, quickly as this appeared it was gone. Giles replaced his glasses upon his heavily concerned face. Reaching forward and placing his hand tenderly upon Buffy’s clenched fist, he spoke.

“Buffy, I’m truly sorry. That was completely insensitive on me. Of course you would have never known that Ethan was going to cast a spell with the help of Janus, Greek god of gates, doors, beginnings and ends. So he then in turn could cause chaos on Halloween. More importantly, I apologize in referring to you in such a manner, please forgive me?” Giles asked as he squeezed her now loosened hand affectionately.

“I’m sorry too. It’s just ever since that night I’ve been feeling horrible. My head hurts. It feels like the blood is swooshing and spinning around, and that my brain is in the rinse cycle of a washing machine. My eyes burn, when they're exposed to any type of light, especially sunlight. I’m always cold. No matter what I do, no matter what clothes I wear or how many blankets I have on. And my stomach, I’m starving, but anytime I eat, I puke. Mom says it’s the flu, but I thought that Slayers don’t get sick. Could it be a mystical flu? Or is it just my body freaking out because I was technically dead, well again, but for a longer period of time. Could it be not of the happy that I was a vampire?” Buffy asked as her lip quivered. Tears started to well in her eyes.

“Buffy, I will research this. I promise you. You only have a few more moments before your mother comes to fetch you. Let me ask you this, did anything strange happen?” Buffy raised her eyebrows, as Giles furthered his explanation. “Besides you becoming a vampire? Were you with any other vamps? Did you feed on human blood?” Giles asked his increasingly upset Slayer. Buffy closed her eyes briefly, as warm tears flowed down her ashen cheeks. Her mind flashed to that night.


“Come to me, be in me Spike.”


Buffy thought to ask Giles "Now when you say ‘with’?" But she decided against it. She decided to answer one of his other questions. “No, I didn’t feed on human blood. Yeah, I met up with another vamp…umm…” Buffy stuttered.

“Who, Angel? Buffy it is of the utmost importance that I know everything, so I can research what is happening to you,” Giles explained firmly.

“No, it wasn’t Angel. I haven’t seen him since before Halloween. I met up with another vamp…umm…Spike,” Buffy whispered.

“Good Lord Buffy! Are you all right? Was he alone? Was Drusilla there? Did you fight? What exactly happened? What…” Giles' questions happened in rapid succession. Buffy’s head swirled from all these questions bombarding her already hazy mind.

“Whoa, Giles! My mind is at the basic level of tree pretty, fire bad. All these questions, it’s just too much. My head feels like a festive piñata on Cinco de Mayo already, and you’re so not helping,” Buffy moaned as she grasped her head.

“Buffy, are you?” That was all she heard as right before everything went black. As her mind shut down, Buffy slipped from the wooden chair and landed heavily upon the library floor.




“ Willow, get the nurse…now!” Giles barked. Willow immediately turned and raced out of the library, as Xander stood motionless taking in the sight before him.

“Xander call Mrs. Summers, try the Gallery. Tell her what happened and to meet us at Sunnydale hospital. Go now!” With that Xander ran into Giles’ office and started to frantically flip through the phonebook. The nurse, followed by Willow in tow, entered into the library. Giles could hear Xander urgently speaking to, he would assume, Buffy’s mom on the phone.



Across town, Spike paced like a caged panther in what was now ‘his’ room, since Dru had banished him from their bed. Spike knew that he completely deserves her treatment, despite how much it pissed him off. He understood that he had shamed her, and traded bodily fluids with another woman. Well not just another woman, the Slayer. Spike realized that he was lucky to still be of the walking undead, and not floating on the warm Santa Ana winds.

If Dru were healthy at this present time, he would be tied up right now suffering sweet torture by holy water, her talons and fangs. Spike noticed that his cock laid limp and motionless, as these thoughts pervaded his mind. He was perplexed and angered. Those thoughts of being in the hands of his wicked Dru would normally cause an impressive erection that would press roughly against his denims, now there was nothing. At that moment, in his mind’s eye, the raven hair and aquamarine eyes of Drusilla melted into the golden tresses and green eyes of the Slayer. With thoughts of the Slayer, his cock swelled twofold with borrowed blood, as the zipper bit into his alabaster skin.


Spike grabbed the nearest breakable object, a battered old chair that was his makeshift bed, and violently threw it against the wall. As the broken pieces of wood and metal scattered, Spike was almost knocked off his feet. His mind began to reel. Spike braced himself against an old metal office desk as he closed his eyes, against this mental assault. After several moments the spinning stopped and he opened his cerulean eyes.

“Bloody ‘ell! What is happening to me?” Spike growled and started to pace the barren room. “It’s all that bitches fault! Ever since Halloween my undead life has been in shambles. The woman I love and have been devoted to for over a hundred years has shunned me. My stomach gnaws in my gut, no matter how much blood I consume and when I do feed the blood tastes foul! Like the blood of some filthy animal!”

Spike tried to complete the task Dru had given him but to no avail. He would leave the warehouse hell bent on bringing her the head of the slayer, only to get as far as the center of Sunnydale and decide to kill another. As their wretched blood covered his palate, he would almost gag. The rage that consumed him, from this reaction, only made him bite harder.

Another issue that Spike faced was that he hadn’t sensed her at all since Halloween. Usually he would get tingles if the Slayer close by, or he would smell her heady scent of vanilla, sunshine and raw mystical power. “Maybe she’s dead?” Spike thought brusquely.

After several beats, Spike’s mind began to fill with dread. His vampire visage flashed forward sensing trouble that saturated his whole body. Lighting quick he ran to Drusilla’s room, even though his blood called for him to run outside. As he flung open the bedroom door, he noticed Drusilla’s sleeping quietly under the soft white comforter. Her dark lashes brushed against her pale skin as they covered her intense eyes. Her raven hair fanned over the milky-colored pillow, like a black halo. Miss Edith’s body was clutched to her chest as she peacefully slept. Spike’s undead heart skipped a beat at the beautiful, tranquil sight before him. Before she could sense him, Spike quietly exited the room and gently shut the door. As he walked to ‘his’ room, his mind filled with questions, as his body urged him to find her, the Slayer.



Spike was strangely becoming comforted that it was daylight, so it couldn’t be a demon or a vamp, which caused distress to his possible mate. Also, since she had that pesky Watcher, and the unusual mixture of family and friends, he knew they would care for her. Instantly, his demon screamed and clawed at his mind “She is your mate! She is yours and yours alone to care for!”

Spike continued to pace as he fought with his own body, more specifically his blood that called out for her. Spike knew that it was still daylight, and he would be a pillar of fire before he could take three steps out into the sun.

He should be fast asleep clutching his dark princess to his muscular chest as they waited for the night. The night brought about the magnificent time for them to feed and cause chaos. Instead his mind was saturated with thoughts of this tiny, fierce warrior that had now wormed herself into his undead life.

Luckily, the demon did hold its own self-preservation above the bond, but only slightly. He knew once the sun dipped past the horizon it would force him outside to search for his mate.

Buffy awoke as she was getting a completely different view of Sunnydale High’s hallways. She was strapped down to a stretcher, as she was taken from the school by the E.M.T.

Buffy spent the next countless hours being poked, prodded, and connected to machines that beeped and buzzed as the medical staff tried to solve the mystery of her illness. Her mom stood vigil while she underwent myriads of tests. Eventually the doctor, still baffled by the results of said tests, decided he would like to keep Buffy overnight for observation.

Number of hours later, she was finally brought upstairs to her own private room, sometime around dinner. The pungent smell of hospital food made her gag as she passed the covered dinner trays in the hallways. Gratefully, when the door of her hospital room closed, the wooden barrier kept most of the overwhelming odors at bay.

As Buffy was cocooned by the darkness and silence of her room, the incessant pounding abated only slightly, despite all the tests and drugs. When they arrived into the room, Buffy suggested to her mother that she should go get something to eat from the cafeteria. Begrudgingly, her mother agreed and after she placed a chaste kiss to her forehead, she complied. Buffy was alone at last. This was the first time since early this morning, which seemed like hundreds of years ago.


As the pain slowly started to subside, her mother returned to the room. Despite how quiet she was, a slight hum that was once gone, now returned to her mind. Several moments later, a soft knock sounded on her door. The door then slowly opened as someone popped his or her head in. Buffy immediately encased herself in the blankets, to block out the sounds and light. She overheard the slightly muffled, brief conversation between her mom and this other person. After Buffy listened, she could tell that her mom was speaking with Willow. After a few more exchanged words, Willow’s voice was joined by two other voices, males. One voice was faintly lighthearted, with a hint of jest, Xander, the other, deep and cultured, Giles.

“Buffy, sweetheart, Mr. Giles and your friends are here to see you. Can you come out from the blankets?” Joyce asked softly.

Buffy reluctantly pulled her head from the linens, and slowly sat up to greet her visitors. Her eyes flickered as she tried to adjust to the small hint of light that spilled out from the bathroom door that was left slightly ajar. Joyce must have turned it on for the benefit of her guests. However, Joyce immediately noticed her daughter’s struggle with the minimal light and handed her the Jackie O sunglasses, which had remained on her face the entire time she was in the ER. With a small whisper of ‘thanks’, Buffy fitted the glasses over her highly sensitive eyes.

The once hum, was now magnified tenfold into a steady pulse of vibrations, as it surged throughout her skull. In addition to the increased discomfort, she noticed that her friends were closely observing her. Buffy felt as though she was under a microscope or the main attraction in P.T. Barnum’s sideshow of freaks. Willow’s soft whisper broke through the silence,

“How are you feeling Buffy?”

“Been better Wills. Thanks for coming you guys,” Buffy croaked, while her parched throat constricted around her words.

“Is there anything we can get you Buffster? Xander whispered.

“No, but thanks,” Buffy responded as she began to rub her temples with her fingertips.

“I’m glad you’re alright Buffy. We are all terribly concerned and hope for your speedy recovery,” Giles added in a soft murmur.

“Yeah, me too,” Buffy responded as she continued to rub.

“Everyone, I think Buffy needs her rest. I’ll keep you updated,” Joyce responded as she leaned over and placed a gentle loving kiss upon Buffy’s crown. After this heartfelt gesture, she looked at Buffy’s visitors in hopes that they understood the meanings behind her soft words. Giles quickly nodded his head as he responded.

“Ah… Yes. Willow, Xander, let’s depart in order to give Buffy time to recover. Mrs. Summers, you will keep us abreast of any changes won’t you?” Giles asked in a gentle voice.

“Certainly,” Joyce responded, as she guided Buffy’s guests out of her room. Joyce turned and whispered; “I’ll be right back,” with this, she followed them out. Gratefully, within moments of their departure, the vibrations that ran fiercely throughout her mind had subsided once more. A steady breath seeped from her lungs, as she was relieved that the throbbing had vanished again.

Once relief washed through her body, Buffy began to focus on the voices outside her door. She could clearly hear her mother through the barrier as she spoke to another. After intently listening for a moment, she recognized that it was her doctor. Joyce asked him if they had found the reason for her illness. The doctor said he believed, based on the numerous blood tests, that Buffy had a form of anemia. He also indicated that once she received a minor blood transfusion, she would make a speedy recovery. The doctor then inquired if Buffy had had any recent trauma, where there was any significant blood loss. As Joyce responded “No”, Buffy’s mind flashed to Halloween night.

“Mmmm…delicious. I need more.”

Spike shifted to his vampire visage as his fangs pierced her tender throat, as he savored her blood.

“Mine!” then he returned to the column of her throat.

Buffy’s desire burst forward as her panties started to dampen, new throbbing blossoming from her womb. After several moments, anger filled her mind, as her inner voice sounded.

“Damn it! It’s all Spike’s fault! If I ever see his bleached ass again, he’s dust in the wind!” As Buffy’s mind rolled over this thought, her mother reentered into the room.

“Buffy, the doctors believe that your illness is caused by anemia and…” Joyce soft explanation was interrupted by Buffy,

“Yeah, I heard. They said that want me to have a blood transfusion. I have no problem with that. I’ll try anything if it will make me feel any better,” Buffy stated bluntly to her mother. Joyce just stared, her mouth agape for several moments before she asked Buffy with a shaky voice.

“How did you hear our conversation?” Joyce inquired slightly louder than her recent whispers.

“What do you mean mom? I’m sick, not deaf. Of course I’m going to hear you when you guys are talking outside my door,” Buffy responded with a huff.

“Buffy, I happened to meet up with the doctor, down the hall at the elevators. After I saw your guests out, we had the entire conversation there,” Joyce explained in awe. Buffy’s eyes widened at this information. Before either woman could further the conversation, the nurse came into the room, plastic package in hand, to hang a bag of O negative.

**** ****

Spike paced inside the four walls of his room, as he could sense the deadly sun fading into the horizon. He resembled a sleek panther in an old zoo cage. Spike’s demon screamed for him to find his mate, or more specifically, the Slayer. He tried to defy this demand. Each passing minute the more difficult it became to refuse his demon’s command.

Twenty-one. Twenty-one minutes he lasted until he’d busted into the night in search of her. Usually when he tracked someone, he would let his finely tuned olfactory sense take over. Raising his head in order to catch her scent, his insides wretched, silent order for him to obey. He started to follow the direction that his insides ordered, his feet obediently followed, and he traveled through the busy streets of Sunnydale.

At first, his gait was slow and methodical. The drive became stronger, his strides became a quick clip. Then everything stopped. When Spike looked up at the building before him, his eyes widened at the possible implications, Sunnydale Hospital.

He wanted to burst through the doors. If he had to, he would check every room until he found her. Luckily, his logic trumped his raging desire. Spike knew that it was still very early. “Too many people,” his inner voice protested.

Spike knew he wouldn’t be able to claim his mate with doctors, nurses and visitors milling about. He had to bide his time. Despite Spike's gut twisting at the thought, he slowly moved away from the hospital in search of dinner. Soon he would return and demand what was his.


Buffy started to rest comfortably once the blood entered her system. Color started to return to her cheeks. The constant pounding that resounded throughout her head, lessened and almost stopped completely. However, Buffy was still slightly sensitive to increased noise, which was created by a multitude of people. In addition, her eyes stung from the light, but overall she was doing far better.

Once she was feeling somewhat improved, Buffy managed to coax Joyce to go home and get some rest. Joyce held firm, saying that she wasn’t going to leave her ‘baby’ there alone. Once Buffy set her ace in the hole in motion, her pout, her mother caved. Joyce placed a tender kiss on her forehead and left for the evening.

Since this illness had wreaked havoc on her mind and body, Buffy fell into a dreamless sleep once she closed her eyes. Her sleep had remained that way, until Buffy’s mind sensed someone skittering along the outsides of her unconsciousness. Soon vivid dreams blossomed in her mind, dreams of a man in black; an angelic face that housed sharp cheekbones, full lips, an intense cerulean gaze. He carried an air of strength, power and raw sexuality. In her dreams, he stood before her, demanding what was his. Despite no words being spoken, she knew what he came for.

Her

Spike stood over the Slayer as she was tucked away in her hospital bed. She looked so small and frail. Wires and tubes connected to her once commanding form. Spike approached her bed. He noticed her heart beat on a monitor. Even before Spike noticed this machine, he could feel the strong tattoo of her warrior heart. Either way, these reassurances set his mind slightly at ease. Spike tried to determine what was ailing her, through smell. Spike inhaled an unneeded breath. He couldn’t make clear what exactly brought this fiery fighter to her knees. She smelled the same, well relatively the same. She no longer smelled pure, but that was his doing, not this illness whatever it may be. Even though the halls were permeated with the heavy stench of death and disease, they did not linger here.

Spike slowly leaned forward. His hand hovered over her exposed neck, more specifically the twin marks. His marks. The two holes were still puckered, but healed. They looked like how his mark felt under his fingertips. Spike’s body needed contact. He then moved forward as he ran his fingertips tenderly over her twin punctures. Once his touch landed, Buffy’s back slightly arched as she sought more of his contact. A throaty whispered fell from her now parted lips.

“Spike”

Buffy’s dreams started to fall away, as her consciousness seeped forward. Her heavy eyelids fluttered as she started to wake. Buffy's gaze started to clear; her head lolled to the side to see what her body was now aware of. Before her bed was a dark figure. Buffy’s mouth opened to cry out, a cool hand pressed to her lips before any sound could pass.

“Don’t make a sound Slayer, or I’ll tear your throat out where you lie,” a deep baritone growl ordered. Through the gag of chilly flesh, Buffy responded,

“Spk?” Buffy murmured as her gaze remained wide.

“Yeah Slayer, it’s me,” Spike answered.

“Wht ew dng hre?” Buffy continued to mumble.

“Look, as fascinating as this conversation is turning out to be. I don’t bloody well want to translate your muffled words. I talk. You listen. All yes and no questions. Nod your response, you got me?” Spike asked.

Buffy nodded slowly up and down, for ‘yes’.

“Good. Now, do you want to be here? In the hospital?”

Buffy shook her head ‘no.’

“Right. So let’s hightail it out of here,” Spike stated as he proceeded to pull his hand away. Before he completely removed it, he added, “You scream this will be your deathbed. Got it?”

Buffy shook her head again, ‘yes’. Once he removed his hand, she spoke,

“Where are we going?”

“Don’t bloody well know. It’s not a date Slayer, more come as you are. Hurry and get your kit, on so we can shove off,” Spike instructed as he turned to the small closet and threw Buffy’s gray sweatshirt and pants to her.

Spike turned his back to let her dress without his prying eyes. Upon noticing this, Buffy cocked a finely shaped eyebrow at this uncharacteristically gentlemanly show of consideration. While her sweatshirt slid over her toned abdomen, Spike turned and looked at her with an ‘ok let’s go’ expression. Before she moved, she needed to ask him,

“You’re not planning to kill me, are you?”

Spike eyes widened slightly since her voice sounding more like a wounded child, not the warrior she was. After several beats, he responded,

“Slayer, like I told you before, I want to taste your blood in the heat of battle. Anything less would not be fitting for a warrior’s death,” Spike commented brusquely.

“Well, you also said something about draining me dry like a Happy Meal, whatever that means,” Buffy retorted.

“Yeah, that I did. What of it Slayer? Like I said, I want your death from our epic battle. Not when you look worse than I did when I crawled from the grave,” Spike snickered.

“Thanks. You really know how to sweep a girl off her feet,” Buffy commented dryly.

“You didn’t take issue with my charms while you were flat on your back, with my head buried in your then virginal cunny!” Spike snapped. Buffy’s mouth dropped open like a land bound fish. After several beats, she whispered loudly,

“Your such a pig!”

“Oink, oink baby. Now that we’ve had our first lover’s quarrel, can we get going before I have to eat some Florence Nightingale, who wants to know what all the noise is about?” Spike barked.

“Fine! How did you get in here anyway?” Buffy asked as he walked toward the door.

“Vampire….’ello? Over a hundred years in the shadows, I know how to get around without being spotted. Just stay close,” Spike instructed as he slowly exited the room with Buffy close behind.

Buffy tried to keep his pace as he stalked through the halls of the hospital. With the combination of her short stature, still feeling like hell, his long graceful legs and his state of agitation, she couldn’t keep up.

“Let’s go Slayer! This is not a tour of the hospital! You’re a minor leaving the place without permission, escorted by a vamp! Put a little wiggle in your arse!” Spike snarled as he turned around to look at the lagging girl.

“Pound sand bleached boy!” Buffy hissed back as she continued to follow him.

Finally, the duo made it out into the crisp night air. Spike continued to walk brusquely through the night, Buffy followed slowly behind. Letting his fury get the best of him, Spike’s demon emerged, stalked back to Buffy, lifted her over his shoulder and continued to carry her to their destination.

All the while, Buffy could hear him growl under his breath, ‘spoiled brat’ and ‘stupid soddin’ slayer.’ Buffy, who normally would be pissed about this Neanderthal treatment, just smiled and enjoyed the reprieve. As Spike marched into a cemetery, Buffy spoke for the first time, since he’d started to carry her.

“Umm… know this is so not a date, but why a cemetery?” Buffy questioned. Spike stopped mid stride, pulled Buffy from his shoulder and set her on her feet, none too gently.

“Slayer, where shall I take you…your house? My flat, that’s crawling with vamps? Please enlighten me with your suggestions,” Spike snapped.

“Geez, don’t be so rude! Here’s fine. It’s just, um, could maybe we go inside somewhere, I’m kinda cold,” Buffy murmured, her head down, foot running over the dead grass.

“Where the bleedin’ ‘ell is there an inside in a cemetery? Ya know you’re turning out to be more trouble than you’re worth!” Spike growled.

Buffy’s eyes widened as her fist flew and connected with Spike’s nose. After a resounding ‘crack’ she stormed away from him, ranting all the while.

“Stupid vampire! No matter what, all men are alike! Think they can push me around! Well, I’m the fucking Slayer! I’m going to push back a lot harder!”

After the initial stun of her actions, Spike started to run after this fury filled woman. He tried to get close, but stayed just out of striking distance. He’d witnessed her resourcefulness and he didn’t want to be dusty due to his big mouth or carelessness. Once he was close enough he spoke,

“Oi! Slayer, look, we can find some sort of mausoleum or crypt to get you out of the cold. No need to be all pissed. Come on, slow down!” Spike urged.

Buffy abruptly stopped as she faced Spike. Her face was filled with aggravation, and she was slightly flushed. He could hear her heart pound and his eyes became transfixed on her pulse that jumped in time with her rapid breaths. After her loud throat clear, his eyes sought hers.

“That’s all I was asking Mr. Insensitive! Some of us are humans here and the cold gets to us. Hurry up and find a place, or I’m leaving. Well, not before I turn you into dust!” Buffy snapped as she stormed forward and poked her finger in his chest where his undead heart was housed. Spike’s raised his hands in mock salute as he responded,

“Bitchy. Like this side of you Slayer,” Spike stated with a slight grin. As they started to walk Buffy responded,

“Well, get used to it. At the rate you’re going, you’re going to see a lot more of it,” Buffy snickered.

“I suggest that you stop talking dirty Slayer, unless you want to find yourself bent over a headstone being pounded by my stake!” Spike growled, as he stared lustfully at her.

Buffy blushed at his remark. As Spike started to stalk closer to her, a fledgling unexpectedly tackled her.

Buffy and the fledgling rolled around on the frozen ground, Spike casually leaned against a nearby grave marker to enjoy the show. He pulled his cigarettes and trusty Zippo from the inner pocket of his duster and lit up. Dragging lazily on the smoke, he watched the Slayer finally get the upper hand in the fight. As Buffy was engaged in hand to hand with the vamp, she started to land crushing blows with her feet and fists upon him.

Spike instantly became aroused as he intently watched her. “Bloody poetry in motion she is,” Spike mumured to himself.

Suddenly, his demon flashed forward as he released a thunderous growl as a warning to the other vamp. "MINE" Spike rumbled through his ragged teeth. Lightning-quick, he stormed forward and pulled the fledglings head from his neck with a sickening crunch.

As both Spike and Buffy panted, one for her sheer bodily need, the other due to his raging emotions, their gaze held firm on one another. In a flash, their mouths connected as they feasted upon one another. In sync, Spike’s hands supported her as she jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. They continued to duel for control; their teeth and tongues joined the fray.

Spike walked slowly as he passionately consumed her essence. During the short-lived battle between the Slayer and fledgling, Spike had spotted a crypt nearby. Deftly he carried her towards the small burial chamber. With one forceful kick, the metal door creaked open. Without losing contact with her sweet mouth, Spike looked at the crypt's surroundings. After he slammed the door closed with his foot, he noticed a sarcophagus in the middle of the room. Spike skillfully moved them toward it. Gently, he placed her upon the structure. Her legs unwound from his waist as her thighs shifted and parted to accommodate his muscular body.

With this change of positions, Spike’s hand started to eagerly roam her body. One hand was in her golden tresses as the other slowly worked under her shapeless sweatshirt in search of her tantalizing flesh. As his mouth traveled down her throat, one of her hands found its way to his bleached locks, as she held his mouth to her heated skin. Her other hand grasped his leather-encased shoulder to keep herself steady.

Spike’s vampire visage sprung forward as her pulse called to his demon. When he was ready to slide his fangs into the soft subtle flesh of her throat, Buffy’s Slayer instincts kicked in. Her legs wrapped mercilessly around him, like a vise, as she crushed his body between her powerful thighs. Her hand balled into a fist, as she grabbed his locks. Buffy violently pulled him away from her neck, she growled,

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing Spike?” Buffy’s golden eyes flashed momentarily, but immediately receded.

Spike looked stunned by this tiny warrior that held him at bay. After a few moments of studying one another, a feral grin graced his full lips, to reveal a serrated grin.

“Taking what is mine, Slayer!” Spike growled.

“Who says I’m yours?” Buffy argued.

“This does.” Spike suddenly moved his head forward, as he pulled his hair from her grasp. Like a cobra, he struck and ran his raspy tongue over his raised marks. Instantly, Buffy’s legs fell from his waist as her neck bowed to his mouth, as she granted him better access. Spike started to purr from the instant ambrosia that permeated the room that declared her arousal. Spike needed to taste and feel her again. His greedy hands grabbed at her clothes, Buffy regarded him with a hazy gaze. Still in game face, the Slayer screamed at this invasion.

Spike pulled slightly away from her form, so he could pull the offending garment, her pants, down. Instantly, Buffy brought her feet up, placed them on his mid chest and shoved. Spike landed across the room as he crashed into the side of the crypt. Buffy’s tried to regain her bearings as he began to pull himself up. Spike leaned against the wall for support as he growled,

“What the bloody ‘ell was that for?”

“You said you wanted to talk! This is not talking! Unless you want me to silence you permanently, use that mouth of yours for words! Not to seduce me!” Buffy barked.

“Again, you didn’t seem to take issue while you filled the room with your arousal. Any vamp within five miles could smell you! I’m surprised that this place isn’t crawling with them! That scent is almost as heady as blood!” Spike growled as he fought his self-control to go back to her.

“Deal with it!” Buffy snipped.

“I was trying to, until you shoved me away Slayer!” Spike snapped back.

“Look, we are not, not doing that ever again!” Buffy announced.

“Yeah? You think so Slayer? You’ll crave me, like I crave blood. You won’t be able to deny me. I’m your mate!” Spike roared as he began to stalk closer.

“What the hell does that mean?” Buffy questioned. This seeming basic question caught him off guard. His human façade returned as he responded.

“Don’t rightly know. I know of it, but never been through it.”

“I thought you were a vamp? Why don’t you know?” Buffy asked.

“Oi Slayer! We don’t come with a bleedin’ handbook when we’re turned! Not like there’s some vamp university! Didn’t exactly hang with types that wanted that type of commitment. Plus, Dru and I aren’t mated,” Spike explained as he mumbled the last sentence.

“What?”

“I said Dru and I aren’t mated. That was how we could. Despite almost hundred years without her precious daddy, she would never give herself fully to me. A claim can only be done if both parties are willing. It can’t be forced.” Spike explained as he walked closer.

“So you’re saying that I wanted this? You wanted this?” Buffy inquired with a slight cry.

“Oi, Slayer! Sensitive lobes here! Don’t need your dog whistle voice blazing through my noggin, thank you very much. And no I’m not saying that. However, what I know about mating claims, only those that desire that connection can perform it,” Spike stated as he finally reached her. Spike turned and leaned on the tomb next to her.

“So what does this mean? We’re like married or something?” Buffy asked as she slightly turned to face him. After several moments of a hearty laughter, Spike turned to her and responded,

“If a marriage means that we spend the rest of eternity together and if one dies the other might die, then yeah, we’re married,” Spike scoffed.

“What! I’m only 16! This is not the Appalachians, for crying out loud! We have to fix this and fix it like yesterday!” Buffy demanded.

“There is only one way I know of to end a mating claim. One of us dies. Now seeing that it won’t be me and your head on a silver platter for my dark princess will put me back in her good graces looks like it will be you!” Spike growled as his demon emerged once again.

Buffy immediately jumped off the tomb as she raced to the other side of the room in an attempt to find some sort of weapon. As she frantically searched, Spike grabbed her by the hair and violently pulled her back.

Her elbow met sharply with his stomach, and then her fist came straight up, with the knuckles hitting him directly in the face. His nose crunched under the blow. As he let go of her tresses to cup his again broken appendage, Buffy hurried away, as she attempted to reach the door.

Before she could reach the portal, he grabbed her by the waist and swung her back toward the sarcophagus. Spike ran forward, as he attempted to slam her body against the stone. Deftly she moved out from his grasp, right before she collided with the marble. As her body lowered to the ground, Spike crashed into the tomb due to his momentum. Quickly, Buffy tried to crawl away on her hands and knees to escape his grasp.

Rapidly, he recovered from his fall; Spike grabbed her ankle with a sharp jerk. He splayed her into a prone position as he began to drag her form across the filthy floor. Once she reached him, he immediately flipped her, over so she was now supine. Spike straddled her waist. He grabbed her wrists roughly, as he brought them above her head. His fangs descended toward her tender throat. Spike's gaze bore through the Slayer beneath him. What he saw stopped him instantly.

She was crying. The Slayer was crying.

“Slayer, are you crying?” Spike growled.

“No,” Buffy responded as the tears continued to fall.

“It looks like you’re crying. There’s no crying in epic battles!” Spike snapped.

“Whatever! What’s the big deal, I thought you vamps liked your victims unhappy?” Buffy got out between the sobs

“You’re crying because I’m going to kill you?” Spike asked in a surprised tone.

“Well duh! It’s not only that, I’m crying because you’re a liar! You told me that you weren’t going to kill me! Now you’re all grrr with the fangs, and you're going to drain me dry!” Buffy openly bawled as her eyes closed tight as she awaited her fate.

Stunned, by the crying warrior beneath him. Spike was taken back. He was torn. His demon called for the blood of the Slayer, there was no question about that. The conflict laid in the fact she was his mate and his ultimate opponent. One wanted connection, the other wanted death. The claim started to force its will upon him. This was his mate. She was in pain and he was the cause of this pain. This affected him deeply. As his face softened, his demon receded once more.

Spike’s hands released her wrists and slowly brought them to his lips. He placed soft, tender kisses upon them where bruises had started to rise. Buffy’s eyes slowly opened as she felt his mouth on her flesh. His gaze burned into her, as he continued to caress her skin with his tender mouth. Slowly lowering himself to the floor, Spike pulled her shaking form onto his lap. Affectionately he started to wipe the tears from her dampened cheeks as he began to murmur doting words and apologies.


“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I’m a bad, rude man. I didn’t mean to make you cry. This is all too confusing. My demon is at war with itself. It wants your death and your life. It wants your death because you’re the Slayer. It wants your life because you are its mate. By being its mate, I am completely devoted to you. If I were to destroy you, I would destroy myself,” Spike explained as he continued to bestow soothing touches upon her body.

Buffy was completely speechless. “One minute, I was in serious lip-lock with a man, no a master vampire. Next I was fighting to the death and lost. While I waited for the inevitable said vamp stopped and is now comforting and apologizing for it all. And to top it all off, he called me Sweetheart,” Buffy thought. Her gut twisted with confusion and pain, completely confounded by the entire situation. Pained because her hurt had brought him pain, confusion about everything else. Buffy gently placed her hand tenderly upon his sculpted cheek as she spoke.

“This is confusing for me too. One thing I do know is that you are to never do that to me again because next time I will stake you. Are we clear?” Buffy asked. Her voice was strangely tender, but her gaze held firm and unmistakable.

“Yeah, understood. Look you need to tell your Watcher. Have him research this. There is no way that this has never happened. For thousands of years there have been vampires and Slayers. You can’t tell me that the Romeo and Juliet thing never happened at least once. We both agree this is not the best situation for either of us. If we could break the claim without one of us perishing, it’s a win, win situation. I’ll just have to win Dru back with my manly charms,” Spike explained.

Spike’s mention of Dru cut her deep. Buffy didn’t want to tell him that. She loved Angel, not Spike. Her feelings for Spike were solely based on the claim, nothing more. As she stood from his lap, Buffy spoke,

“Agreed. This is not the best situation for either of us. If we could break the claim without one of us perishing, it’s a win, win situation. I’ll just have to win Dru back with my manly charms,” Spike explained with pride.

“I’ve been gone for hours. I need to get back to the hospital before someone realizes I’m gone and calls my mom. She’ll have a bird if she finds out I’m missing. Ok, I feel good about this. We have a game plan. Break the claim. In the meantime, we just need to stay away from each other. This thing is bigger than both of us. Even though the claim states we need each other, distance should squelch it. Sounds good?” Buffy said as she headed towards the crypt’s door.

As Spike pulled himself from the floor he responded.

“Yeah, sounds like a plan to me. Just get to your Watcher as soon as you can. This needs to be done and fast. You may have some resolve, but I don’t. This claim flows through me fiercer than any blood I’ve consumed. I’ve tasted three Slayers and that’s saying a lot. It won’t be long before I will come for you and make you mine through some serious swapping of bodily fluids,” Spike warned, his eyes twinkled with lust. Buffy’s eyes widened at this.

“On that note, I’m leaving.”

“No wait. Let me walk you back. There’s a city full of beasties out there. I don’t feel like being a big pile of dust because something nasty got a taste of you,” Spike retorted.

“Fine, but stay over there. Not so close. Let’s lessen the temptation,” Buffy stated heading out of the crypt. As she walked away, Spike murmured,

“Not bloody likely.”

The following morning, due to her, as the medical staff deemed, amazing recovery, Buffy was released from the hospital. She returned home and enjoyed being pampered by her mom throughout the day. Her mom gave her full jurisdiction of the remote control and the programs they watched. She also bestowed on her many tasty morsels, now that Buffy’s appetite had made a comeback. She still had the small hum of discomfort that was housed in her head and the light still bothered her eyes, but donned in her favorite shades and a little Tylenol did the trick. After the relaxing day, Buffy told her mom that she wanted to retire early, due to the last few stressful days.

Buffy took a long hot shower and entered her bedroom in a snuggly, white terry cloth robe. Once inside, she quickly dressed in comfortable jeans and a heavy cable-knit sweater. She waited, covers pulled up to her chin, as she knew that her mother would be checking on her shortly. On cue, her bedroom door slowly opened. As she pretended to be asleep, Buffy felt her mother’s loving gaze from the doorway. After several beats, the door closed with a soft click that signaled her departure. After Buffy counted to one hundred, she pulled herself from the cocoon of fabric, placed a pair of comfortable leather boots on her feet in preparations to leave.

Buffy chose her normal slayer exit, the window. As she scaled down the side of the house, the frosty, late autumn air felt absolutely amazing. It ruffled her golden hair, brushed against her tepid skin and filled her lungs with its coolness. This was a welcomed reprieve, after being cooped up for almost a week.



The swings swayed in the crisp autumn air, gave the place an eerie quality. Despite this, Buffy was drawn to all the childhood favorites. Buffy slid down the slide several times and even spun on the merry-go-round. Several minutes passed until her inner child cried out for the swings. As she skipped towards them, a slight giggle left her mouth. Buffy anticipated the feel of the wind to surround her, as she climbed higher and higher into the nighttime sky. After some tentative pumps with her toned legs, Buffy went for it with gusto.

This is where Angel found her ten minutes later, her legs furiously pumping as she reached the utmost heights. She appeared close to flipping around the bar that held the swings, but she remained contained. A huge grin graced her full lips as a childlike chortle spilled forward. On the upswing, Buffy noticed Angel as he approached. With one final swing, she leapt from the seat, gracefully somersaulted mid-air and landed with her arms above her head like a gymnast, and she shouted “TA DA!!!”

“Hey, Angel how’s it going?’ Buffy asked between slight pants and leftover giggles.

“Where have you been, Buffy?” Angel asked slightly angered.

“I’m sorry. I’ve had quite a full week being bed bound and hospitalized!” Buffy snapped.

“What happened?” Angel asked as he rushed forward and placed his hands on her upper arms.

Instantly, Angel’s human guise shifted quickly into game face. He roughly pushed Buffy behind his brawny form as his head frantically moved to locate the danger that he sensed.

“Angel! What the hell are you doing?” Buffy blasted.

“Hush! I smell him. Smell Spike. I need to take you out of here now!” Angel growled as he tried to pull Buffy by the arm in attempts to exit the playground. Buffy yanked her arm out of his grasp, as she stood her ground seething.

“Who do you think you are, my fucking savior? I don’t need you to protect me, especially from Spike!” Buffy yelled.

With fury that seeped from his body, Angel stalked closer. As his nostrils flared, the danger, now an irritant that he had smelled earlier permeated her skin. Again Angel grabbed her upper arm tightly and growled.

“Why do you smell like Spike? Answer me!” Angel demanded. Buffy again pulled from his steel grasp.

Once she regained control of her arm again, Buffy placed her hands upon his heaving chest and harshly shoved him away. Angel’s form launched into mid air. The loud crunch of metal as it bent filled the open space. Buffy saw his body cradled in the twisted metal of the slide that was located twenty feet away. She stalked over to him, where he laid stunned.

“I don’t have to answer to you! My body, My business!” Buffy snarled as two razor-sharp fangs blossomed from her gums. Her once charteuse eyes changed to a golden hue.

Angel’s vampire visage slid away as his now chocolate gaze held her golden one.

“Buffy, how…..why…is your face….?” Angel stuttered

“What? Over two-hundred years and you’ve never been confronted by someone who is completely brassed off! I know you’ve seen fear and panic. Since you were such a bastard, I’m not surprised you’re not familiar with this look!” Buffy fumed.

“Unfortunately, I am too familiar with that look, just not on the face of the slayer,” Angel explained.

“Look Angel, I’m so sick of your cryptic messages. Just say what you mean!” Buffy fumed as she continued to loom over his fallen form.

“Fine, you want it straight Buffy. Run your tongue over your teeth. Tell me what you feel?” Angel instructed.

“Whatever!” Buffy snorted as she followed his instruction as she ran her tongue over her teeth. As the muscle snagged on a now incredibly sharp incisor, her eyes widened. Buffy then placed her fingers into her mouth as they followed the path that her tongue previously took. Her fingertip glided over the now serrated teeth. As she pulled her fingertip away she noticed a small bead of blood.


“Angel, why do I have fangs?” Buffy whispered. Angel extracted his body from the metal, as he now stood before her now shaking form. He looked at her for several moments before he spoke.

“Who turned you?” Angel asked with a slight bite in his tone.

“Nobody! I’m not a vampire! Listen, can’t you hear my heartbeat? The undead don’t have a working ticker!” At this declaration, Buffy started to cry. As the tears fell, her vampire visage faded. Angel placed his finger under her chin and lifted her face towards his.

“Buffy, I know this is all too confusing. Even after everything I’ve seen in over two hundred years, this is completely new. Have you spoken to Giles about this?”

“My plan was to meet him after I patrol.” Buffy sniffled as she pulled her face from his grasp. As her head turned away from his prying eyes, the pale column of her throat flashed in the moonlight. Angel’s demon roared forward again as he saw the two puckered marks that marred her neck.

“Did Spike do this to you?” Angel snarled as he recognized the owner of these bite marks. Angel grabbed her chin to examine her closer. Buffy jerked away from his rough hold.

“Angel, like I said my body, my business!” Buffy rumbled back as her fangs and demon eyes reappeared.

“Not when it comes to my childe you don’t have that right!” Angel's growl echoed.

“Don’t you dare threaten him or me! If I find out that you have touched one bleached lock on his head, I will dust you myself!” With that declaration, Buffy’s roundhouse kick knocked Angel off his feet. Angel slid across the frozen ground and Buffy fled into the night.


When Buffy arrived at the library, Giles was hit with a flurry of words and a whirlwind of movements. After almost ten minutes of her rants, Giles interrupted with a question.

“So you’re saying, Angel claimed that your features had shifted? He maintained you had fangs and golden demon eyes?”

“Yeah, he said I looked like a vamp without the ridges. Giles I felt them, I felt the, my fangs,” Buffy explained.

“Good lord! Maybe this is a side effect of when you became a vampire on Halloween. However, the question remains, why only you? Neither Willow nor Xander has had any lasting ill effects. Nor have I heard from my source at Sunnydale Hospital of an influx of people being seen due to unexplained ailments. Buffy, we never did complete our conversation that day due to…..” Giles stated as he pulled his glasses from his face. As he began to polish the already clean lenses Buffy responded.

“Me taking an unplanned nap? Yeah, I guess we didn’t. So what do you want to know?”

“You were telling me about your confrontation with Spike, when you fainted. What exactly happened with him?”

This question rolled around in her mind before she spoke. Her embarrassment held her tongue, but her mind craved, no, needed answers. In the end, she told him the bare essentials.

“I fed from him.” Buffy blurted out, so quickly the words blended together. Despite the jumble of words, Giles’ eyes widened as the words slowly seeped into his mind. Giles replaced his glasses quickly as his voice uncharacteristically bellowed.

“You what? Was this while you were a vamp yourself?”

“Of course! Otherwise, ewww!” Buffy stated as her face scrunched at the thought.

“So that may be the key to your….your changes.” Giles stated.

“How so?”

“You may be turning Buffy.” Giles informed her.

“To a vamp! No way! I still have a reflection! I can still go outside in the sun! I still have a soul and a heartbeat! I’m not of the undead!” Buffy yelled. Suddenly sharp fangs descended, as her eyes flashed a demony gold. Giles's eyes widen at the sight before him.

“Buffy, do you feel that?” Giles asked as he studied her new visage.

“Feel what? Being pissed yeah! How come all the men in my life are so surprised that I can get really friggin’ angry!” Buffy snarled.

“No Buffy. It’s not that you’re angry that I’m commenting on. Please let me show you.” Giles guided her to a darkened outside window in order to hopefully cast her reflection in the glass. Only his showed.

“My god! You have no reflection!” Giles gasped.

“Yes…yes I do!” Buffy roared

“I’m sorry Buffy. Look, no reflection.” As Buffy gazed at the empty spot where her reflection should be, tears started to fall from her golden eyes. As the anguish washed over her, her eyes closed. After several moments her vampire visage slowly started to melt away. Buffy heard another gasp from Giles, before he instructed her to open her eyes. She opened one eye then opened the other. There, in the glass, was her reflection once more.

“Amazing! It seems you are able to cast a reflection only when you hold your human guise. Buffy please let’s sit down. We need to discuss this further.”


An hour later….


“So are you saying I’m some sort of slayer/vampire hybrid?” Buffy inquired with disbelief.

“Yes, that is my hypothesis. This is why the sunlight bothers your eyes, but you are still able to enter its rays. It explains why you are always cold also, could be why your vampire visage is only fangs and golden eyes, without the customary prominent ridges. Why you’ve retained your heartbeat. I’m unsure about your headaches. Maybe your change has left you anemic as the doctors had summarized. Buffy the fact remains, you’re not fully human anymore, nor are you a vampire,” Giles explained as he held his Slayer’s shaky hand.

“Great! Just Great! Have you ever heard of this before? Possibly, in one of your moldy books?” Buffy asked as she wiped with the hand that Giles didn’t clutch, then slowly dried tears from her cheeks.

“To be completely honest, I’ve never heard of this before. However, don’t lose faith, this doesn’t mean that it has never happened. I’ll research this immediately,” Giles stated as he placed a final pat on Buffy’s hand as he then let it go.

“You do that Watcher. While you’re at it, don’t you think there’s something else that he should be also researching, sweetheart?” Spike sneered as he stalked out from the shadows of the library stacks. His feral gaze fell onto Buffy.

Giles stood quickly and pulled a small compact crossbow from behind a stack of books that was located on the library table and pointed it directly at Spike’s chest.

As Spike slowly descended the staircase, his voice was filled with mocking as he spoke.

“Now, now Watcher. You may want to remove your twitchy digit from the trigger. If that arrow leaves the bow, my dust won’t be the only life that may end,” Spike explained, as he finally stood level with the now standing Buffy and Giles.

“Buffy what is he yammering about?” Giles demanded an answer from her, as his eyes never left Spike, as Spike moved slowly and methodically throughout the room.

“Oh, you didn’t tell him dear heart? I’m crushed, that you didn’t announce our eternal commitment.” Spike sneered as his hand placed over his undead heart, to mock hurt feelings. Both men looked to Buffy. Then she blurted out.

“He drank from me too.” In pure shock, Giles’ hand that held the crossbow, smacked against his thigh, as he landed in a graceless heap into the chair, he once occupied.

“And…..” Spike urged Buffy’s continuance.

“And we also said ‘mine’ while we did it.” Buffy’s eyes widened as a feral lusty grin that graced Spike’s predatory features from the implications of ‘it’. She quickly amended the sentence to “While we fed.” Spike’s grin grew wider, as Giles’ face became ashen due to her words.

“Buffy, this may mean….” Giles began.

“Yeah, yeah we know. We’re mated. Already figured that much out Watcher. The why and more importantly how to break the claim, are the burning questions that we need answered,” Spike explained to the shaken man before him.

Giles stood on shaky legs as he started to walk over toward his office as he spoke.

“I will have to research this further. We must be vigilant, but secretive about this. If the counsel or the demon population finds out about this, there is no telling what may befall you. Either of you,” Giles explained as he stopped in the doorway of his office.

Both Spike and Buffy rolled his thoughts around in their brains before Spike responded.

“Watcher for an intelligent man, you seem to have a difficult time with the basics,” Spike stated bluntly.

“Do pray to tell me what I have overlooked Spike,” Giles responded.

“The pounding in the Slayer’s noggin is the beautiful melody that lulls us vamps to sleep and is our alarm that greets us in the night. Human heartbeats. She hears the siren song of blood,” Spike explained.

“That is bloody ridiculous!” Giles blasted.

“Don’t be a fool Watcher! It’s all about the blood. It’s always about blood. Her body craves it. She needs it to survive,” Spike declared.

“No! I don’t crave blood! And don’t talk about me like I’m not here!” Buffy growled as her fangs descended, eyes flashed gold.

“Your body begs to differ Slayer. All fangs and fury, bloody gorgeous you are.” Spike purred as he stalked closer to her. Buffy noticed his motions and started to side step his advancement, as she walked a few steps closer to Giles.

“I hate to admit it Giles, but it kinda makes sense. The pounding gets worse the more people I’m around. I didn’t hear it at all when I was alone with Angel or Spike. In addition, after I received the transfusion it lessened considerably,” Buffy explained.

Spike’s demon roared forward as he pulled her body roughly against his with lightning-quick speed. Unlike Angel, she didn’t fight him as he wound his fist into her hair. Spike brought her face a hairs breadth away from his as he growled.

“When were you with the ponce?”

“Who? Angel?” Buffy gasped, as his grip verged on pain mixed with pleasure.

“Yes. You are mine Slayer! I forbid you to go near him again! Do you understand?” Spike snarled. Buffy began to struggle against his steel grip.

Spike then leaned forward and ran his raspy tongue against his marks that marred her throat. Buffy’s body immediately stilled as she melted into his arms. Her breaths quickened, the blacks of her pupils swallowed the charteuse irises, as pure lust filled her gaze.


In a flash, Spike’s aim shot out. Suspended from his powerful hand, was a now flailing Xander. Xander’s hands frantically pawed at the iron grasp that surrounded his throat, while his legs sought purchase on the ground near the fallen stake, he once held. Spike’s gaze moved from Buffy’s desire-filled features to Giles.

“Watcher, I may be lenient to your demand to keep your Slayer safe. This courtesy does not extend to others. Especially, the boy here,” Spike growled as he shoved Xander away. As Xander skittered across the floor, his hand flew frantically to his throat as he gasped for air. After several deep breaths, his raspy voice filled the air.

“Giles? Buffy? What is going on? Why is he still here and not dust?” Xander questioned.

“Xander, pp…please go. We’re fff…fine,” Buffy moaned as her body still shook from Spike’s earlier ministrations.

“But…..!” Xander started.

“Xander, you foolish boy! Leave Now!” Giles's voice stormed. After several quick glances at all parties before him, Xander quickly stumbled to his feet and ran from the library.

“Ahhh….there’s the Ripper that I’ve heard about. Nice to meet ya.” Spike chuckled as his vampire façade melted away.

“Piss off Spike!” Giles snarled.

“Learn your manners Watcher. My compliment to you is not to be mistaken with camaraderie,” Spike growled.

Spike could sense Buffy’s haze as it started to dissipate. He then placed another impassionate lick upon the column of her throat. His tongue flickered several times over his puckered marks. Lust blasted through her body again, as his talented mouth rendered sheer bliss upon her flesh. Buffy’s hands grasped his leather-encased biceps to anchor her lust-filled body. A pleasure-filled moan flowed from her parted lips. Her eyes rolled and were then covered by heavy lids. Spike’s mouth hovered by the shell of her ear as he purred.

“Slayer, I can smell your arousal. Bloody intoxicating. I crave to be cock and fang deep in your sweet body.” With that Spike rolled his hips into hers, as his cock brushed against her heated core. “Unfortunately, work needs to be done. Play class with your Watcher, for now. Just know that I will be coming for you, very soon.” With that he slowly pulled away from her, as he left her disoriented as he slowly stalked up the stairs as he disappeared into the stacks.

Giles rushed forward to support his unsteady Slayer. He gently placed her into her seat, as he knelt in front her.

Eyes black with desire, breathing rapid, flushed face. Giles knew beyond all certainty what Spike had claimed was true. His Slayer was mated with a vampire. Mated with Spike.

Within ten minutes, Buffy’s gaze started to clear. Her eyelids fluttered and she began to gain control of her body.

“Spike?” Buffy whispered.

“No, Buffy he’s gone. Are you alright?” Giles asked as he remained seated in a chair he had pulled before her once immobile form. He hadn’t moved since Spike had disappeared from sight.

“Where did he go?” Buffy asked. Her voice sounding partly confused and lost.

“I don’t know Buffy, nor do I care. My main concern is you.” Giles explained.

“Giles, what is happening to me?” Buffy questioned as tears started to flow.

“Despite Spike being a soulless demon, one truth remains, you, and he are mated. I don’t need my books to tell me that. I also know he is taking full advantage of that weakness. Starting immediately, I will research the full extent of the claim. I will find out everything we need to know about it, especially how to break it. While I do this it is imperative that you do not make yourself accessible to him. You are to remain indoors at all times when the sun is down. I must insist you not patrol.” Giles explained, his intense stare never leaving her.

“Giles, I’m the Slayer! That’s my job is to keep Sunnydale vamp free. Well, as a vamp free as the Hellmouth can be.” Buffy explained.

“And my job is to keep you safe! I cannot do this if Spike is controlling you! Buffy, he is a master vampire; he is far older than you and I together. He knows how to manipulate and control situations that we have no idea about. I’m trying to understand the pull he has on you, the fact remains, you, and you alone must fight this.” Giles demanded.

“Giles, I’m so confused. I know what I need to do yet I have all these feelings. My insides are twisted. Some part of me tells me, no demands me to go to him, telling me I belong to him. Another part, tells me to stake him and be done with it and that’s just the beginning! Let’s not forget about my new identity as Buffy the vampire! Giles, a week ago I was just a girl, well a mystical ass kicking/demon killer, but mainly a girl. Now I’m part vamp and possibly the bride of the undead!” Buffy fumed as the tears continued to fall.

“Buffy, I understand all this is very daunting, but we need to take one concern at a time. The first step is to get you home. You cannot be out after dark under any circumstances. This includes being in public places such as the Bronze, the mall or even here. If you are not at home you must be a place where he needs an invitation to enter. However, I highly recommend that you stay in the sanctuary of your own home. Secondly, we must treat your….affliction.” Giles explained.

“What affliction? The desire for Spike or the vampness?”

“I was referring to the need for sustenance, the need for blood.” Giles explained.

“Giles, despite how my head is humming right now, I almost completely forgot about that nauseating tidbit.” Buffy huffed.

“This cannot be ignored, despite how unpleasant the thought. The fact remains that as a part vampire you need blood to survive. We have to insure that you remain healthy, first and foremost. Your strength is one asset that we cannot lose. It is imperative that you are strong enough to fight against his commands. In a weakened state, you will not be able to.” Giles explained.

“Ok, despite how nasty a blood cocktail sounds right now, your right. I can’t end up in the hospital. Plus, I didn’t let you know this, but Spike found me there.” Buffy admitted as her gaze left Giles and focused on the hem of her sweater.

“Exactly my point, Buffy he has knowledge that we have yet to understand or discover. We must be vigilant about giving him any opportunities to have the upper hand. At this moment that is the only advantage, well that and the sun we have.” Giles explained.

“So, how do I get the blood? It’s not like I can walk into the store or dial up take out, and I doubt the doctor will give me another transfusion.” Buffy stated.

“I assume that there is a way to get some blood. From the butchers perhaps or maybe expired blood from a blood bank. Maybe we could speak to Angel. Since he doesn’t feed from humans we could inquire what his sources are.” Giles stated.

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea, well the asking part. The only glitch is that I can’t go to Angel. First, I kinda ran into him before I came here, and I sorta, knocked him around. I don’t think he’d be too happy to see me. Also, I know you don’t want to hear it, and it pains me to say it, but, even if I did want to go to him, I can’t. Spike told me no and probably due to the claim, I can’t go against what he said. God, I sound like an after school special about some girl who has an abusive boyfriend.” Buffy explained as her tears started to fall again.

“I understand Buffy. I will try to find some way to contact Angel. In addition, I will look on my own for sources to locate your needs. I believe that we both have had a full evening. Please let me drive you home.” Giles asked as he stood from his position.

“Yeah, I’d like to go home now.” Buffy sniffled.

As the two traveled to Buffy’s silence stretched between them. Giles was extremely worried about her and what this meant for her future. Buffy tried to relax, tried to clear her mind one thing always pervaded her thought, Spike.

Giles’ car pulled a few doors down from Buffy’s home. At three in the morning, he could not go any closer without alerting Joyce of their arrival. Before Buffy exited the car, Giles spoke.

“Buffy, are you sure you don’t want me to walk you to your house? I know that you are quite capable, it’s just I don’t trust that he’s not outside waiting for you.” Giles asked.

“No, I’ll be alright. I don’t sense him around. I think I’ll be fine. Thank you Giles.” With that Buffy exited the vehicle and ran into the night. Giles waited several minutes after her form was no longer visible before he begrudgingly pulled off into the night.

As Buffy moved quickly and silently through the yards that stood between her and her home, she felt that she was being watched. Her body tingled as every inch of her body started to hum. ‘My mate.’ Her mind screamed. This thought made her run faster. As she started to climb up the side of the house, a hand wrapped around her ankle and stopped her ascent.

“Slayer, do tell me why you are running like a scared rabbit from me?” Spike growled as his grip tightened. Buffy continued to pull from his grasp to no avail. After several yanks, she looked down at the man, no vampire that held her tightly.

“Spike, please, let me go.” Buffy begged. The sound of her voice sickened and angered her.

“Now why would I do something like that? I told you that I was coming so you shouldn’t be surprised that I’m here.” Spike chuckled.

Buffy pulled out of his grasp finally as she turned to kick him away from her. Spike’s vampire visage sprung forward at her blatant attack deftly evading her kick. He then could get a hold of her sweater, pulling to the ground face first. Buffy met with the frozen earth, the hit made her lungs expel the air housed there with a loud ‘whoosh’. Spike hovered over her prone form as he spoke.

“Now Slayer, you may be my mate, but I will not tolerate your insolence! I came to take what is mine. Now, torture and rape is not my style, more your precious Angel’s, but this does not mean that I won’t use the claim to get my desires met!” Spike growled standing over her.

He grabbed her harshly by the shoulder turning her onto her back. As he stared down at her, he noticed her tears sparkling in the moonlight. His demon receded as he had noticed what he had done, again. He pulled her up and held her close.

“I’m so sorry kitten. Please don’t cry. It’s just, my demon is clawing and scratching to get you to heed, vampires don’t ask, they do. For over a hundred years I’ve taken what I wanted and never asked. Especially since my blood flows through your veins my demon sees you as his. Please forgive me.” Spike cooed as he ran his hands gently over her back. Without warning, Spike was shoved to the ground by the vamp/slayer.

Her golden eyes stared at his fallen form. Her pearly fangs glistened in the moonlight as she hissed at him. As her body heaved with her heavy breaths she spoke.

“You are not my master! I’m your mate, and you will treat me as such! I will not bow to you or your whims. You are the one who needs to heed if you ever want to touch me again. Do you understand?” Buffy growled.

Spike stared at the beauty before him in sheer awe. She was magnificent! His erection bit into his snug denims while admiring the fiery woman before him. Before he could answer, Buffy was on top of his supine form. Her legs straddled his hips as her heated core met his bulging erection. Buffy gave two experimental swirls of her hips before she grabbed Spike by the lapels of his trench and ran her tongue over the two puncture marks that she had marred his skin with.

Upon contact, Spike’s head bowed, and he granted her further access to his throat. With a needy moan, his eyes rolled closed from her ministrations. After three languid licks, Buffy pulled away from his neck and looked at his handsome face. Eyes closed, mouth slightly parted, shallow unneeded breaths flowing from his body. After several beats, hazy cerulean eyes met with fiery golden as she spoke.

“Looks like the hunter has become the hunted?” Buffy purred, before she plunged her teeth into his neck.

She drank deep, her pelvis ground into his seeking friction, after four mouthfuls Buffy pulled her fangs from his alabaster skin. Her tongue rolled over the marks twice to capture every last drop and to seal the newly opened wound.

Buffy sat up straight, still grinding her core onto his cock licking her lips in appreciation of her delectable feast.

“Mmmm, you are delicious.” Buffy stood from his hips, started to unbutton her jeans as she continued to speak while she walked backwards towards a nearby tree.

“Now, you are to be a good boy and give me what I want.” Buffy cooed as she pulled one leg from her pants and panties, she placed her foot on the bottom branch of the tree.

Her core was completely exposed, glistened with her arousal. Spike glared at her enticing offer; slowly standing he stalked over to her roughly grabbing her hair his tongue plunged into her mouth. Each dueled for the upper hand as their teeth joined the fray. Buffy pulled away from his mouth first as she growled.

“Get on your knees…now!” Spike lowered to his knees as he gazed at the forbidden feast in front of him. His hungry gaze flickered upwards as he slowly licked his lips in anticipation. Without warning his mouth rushed forward and started to devour her dampened folds.

“Uhhhh…..yes! That’s it!” Buffy purred as his tongue was already driving her wild. Spike continued his torturous ministrations. His tongue skillfully found her entrance as he started to plunge the talented muscle into the fiery depths.

As his tongue continued its heavenly assault Buffy bucked against his face with wanton abandon. Spike then removed his tongue from her womb and started to pull at the distended nub begging for his attention. As soon as he started to suck the pearl into his mouth, Buffy’s legs started to shake with pleasure. Spike’s strong hands came up and framed her core continuing to feast as he held her steady.

“Mmmm…..oh Spike! Please make me cum. Make me cum!” Buffy ordered into the silent night.


At that demand Spike’s demon came forward as he pierced her clit with one of his fangs, her spendings and blood flowed into his gluttonous mouth as she keened from her orgasm. Spike continued to lap up this intoxicating ambrosia as another smaller orgasm crested. After he collected his prize, he gently extracted his fang from her flesh and felt her body relax to the point of sleep. Spike tenderly took her foot and placed it back into her pant leg. Standing, he brought the pants and panties back up her spent body.

Once he was a full height, Spike quickly pulled her into his arms. Placing a gentle kiss upon her relaxed lips Buffy’s mouth slowly melted into his, she tasted herself on his talented mouth. Spike pulled away scooping her up in his arms. With a little effort, he could get to the roof just outside her window. With another kiss, he placed her on her feet and spoke.


“Buffy, luv, go inside before my demon gets mighty pissed that I didn’t just fuck you into the ground, while my mouth was at your throat.” Spike chuckled as he tilted her chin up to his gaze.

“Mmmm, ok.” Buffy, who was completely sated, murmured as she slowly stepped over the threshold of her window. Away from him and his arms.

Spike wanted to demand her to let him in all ways, her home, her body and heart. The last one took him back for a moment. ‘There is no way that the Slayer could warm her way into my undead heart. That place is Drusilla’s, and Drusilla’s alone. This is just the claim talking, nothing more.’ Spike thought as he jumped down from the roof and headed off into the night.

As Buffy pulled her shoes clumsily from her feet, she flopped down onto her soft mattress. The only thought she had before the wave of sleep pulled her under was this.

“When did I become Buffy, not Slayer?”

The next morning Buffy was greeted with the bright rays of the sun streaming into her room, bathing her in warmth. After several beats, she realized that the sunlight still bothered her eyes, but with her trusty Jackie O’s she could get through the day. She slightly squinted at the sunny assault, but overall she felt fine. Buffy dressed and quickly got ready for school. She descended the stairs humming to herself.

She hadn’t felt this overwhelming sense of peace in an extremely long time. Not since before she was called as the Slayer. Her mind worked through the possible reason or reasons, only one coming to mind, Spike. After they were together last night, Buffy had fallen into a deep tranquil sleep.

‘It must have been the combination of the blood and the other ‘stuff’ that did it. Well, the next time I see him, I have to thank him for making me feel better. Well, not for that. I wonder when that will be.’ The last sentence caused her to furrow her brow.

She knew she should stay away from Spike. There were millions of reasons why. The fact remained, she didn’t want to he was her mate. She fought in regard to that simple fact; she didn’t want to believe this. Nevertheless, after everything that had happened, it seemed only natural to refer him as hers and accept the fact that she was his.

“Sweetie, you look so much better. There’s color in your cheeks and there’s gorgeous smile that I’ve missed so much. How’s your headache?” Joyce asked with concern.

After several beats of inward assessment, Buffy responded.

“Actually, it’s completely gone.” Buffy beamed. ‘Thanks again to Spike.’ Her mind added. Later, after short conversation and quick breakfast, Buffy headed off to school.

As she walked the Sunnydale High hallways first time in over a week her mind wandered. She felt strange, out of place. Everything seemed so much smaller, insignificant. The day went by without any issues and after school, Buffy met with ‘the gang’ at the library.

Several minutes of ‘How are yous?’ and ‘How have you beens?’ They started to address the business at hand, Buffy possibly being part vampire. Following a strained silence a barrage of “How? When? Why? Who?” overtook Buffy as well as Giles. As they answered the questions they eluded one, ‘who’.

After sometime it seemed to make sense for them. First, they lived on the Hellmouth and secondly, due to her recent illness. Buffy and Giles did not discuss and completely avoided any and all questions that would give any hints that Buffy was mated with Spike. Luckily, since Xander had always worn rose-colored glasses, he never questioned the incident that transpired the evening in the library with Spike.

Two hours into the meeting, both Xander and Willow left for the evening. Buffy remained with Giles. They trained and discussed the major issue at hand.

“So were you alright last night…..don’t drop your left shoulder…. After I left you?” Giles asked as they trained with the quarterstaff.

“Yeah…..ooph…..I was fine.” Buffy responded as she continued her training.

"Definitely more than fine bloody fantastic! Oh no! Is this like when people who are together for a long time take on each other’s words and quirks?" Buffy thought as she counterattacked Giles’ strike.

Giles struck Buffy on the back of her thigh, as her mind was occupied with thoughts of Spike.

“Yeow! Bloody hell! That hurt!” Buffy screamed as her hand went to her injured thigh. Her eyes flashed golden then quickly returned to their charteuse hue.

Giles stopped, staring at the Slayer before him. As he studied her, his mind started to catalog all that he saw. Her breathing remained steady, despite her increased physical exertion. Her skin still held its creamy complexion, not flushed. In addition to the flash of golden eyes and her British curse, Giles would swear that Spike was affecting her far more than either of them had suspected.

Lightning-quick, Buffy swept her leg along the ground as she pulled Giles’ legs out from under him. He landed in a graceless heap upon the floor. In an instant Buffy hovered over him, fangs and golden eyes flashing. A loud growl emanated from her chest. Giles, in a moment of panic called out.

“Buffy! What in heaven’s name are you doing?” Giles yelled. Buffy continued to look at the fallen man with detachment. After several moments his voice broke through her haze. As her fangs receded, Buffy put her hand to her mouth in total shock at what she had done.

“Oh my god, Giles! I’m so sorry…..I didn’t….I mean…..I would never…..” With that Buffy dropped her weapon and fled from the library into the impending darkness.



Spike lay in his makeshift bed, another battered old chair, as his mind was filled of dreams of Buffy. After he left her last night, he reluctantly fed since after Buffy had fed from him, he had felt slightly weakened. When the sun hovered on the horizon, Spike arrived back to the warehouse. As he entered into his ‘room’ his mind thought back to the evening with her, his mate, Buffy. A permanent grin filled his full lips, as he curled upon his bed to let sleep pull him under.

“Looks like the hunter has become the hunted?” Buffy purred, before she plunged her teeth into his neck.

As she drank deep, her pelvis ground into his seeking friction. After four mouthfuls, Buffy pulled her fangs from his alabaster skin. Her tongue rolled over the marks twice as she tried to capture every last drop and to seal the newly opened wound.

“Mmmm, you are delicious.”

“Now, you are to be a good boy and give me what I want.”

“Uhhhh…..yes! That’s it!”


“Mmmm…..oh Spike! Please make me cum. Make me cum!”

Spike’s mind replayed the evening, her fangs in his throat, his mouth on her sweet cunny. All the while, he felt her heated body. Scorching him, burning his throat, his mouth, and his mind. Soon the sensations changed from pleasant to painful. Her mouth became as hot as the sun, blazing welts upon his flesh. As her essence coated his tongue and throat, it scalded his insides.

Spike woke with a start, in a full game face, which caused a rip of pain to flare through him. Off center of ‘his bedroom’ stood Drusilla, she clutched a small vial in her talons, her vampire visage hiding her exquisite features. Dru hissed as she realized that Spike had awoken, but she prepared to attack again. Spike pulled himself from the chair, lowered his body to a feral crouch, as he tried to speak.

“Dooo, wot ve oooo wone ooo eeee?” Spike slurred

“What have I done to you?!? What have I done to you?!?? The question is sweet William, is what have you done to me?! Your dark princess! Your sire! You shouldn’t be so ungrateful my dearest. I could have sent you to the sun, but I decided to punish you this way. I’ve cleansed you from the traces of that wicked whore! I could smell her on you! Her foul essence filled my nose as I lay in our bed! Miss Edith told me that you had given your neck to her, and other little nasties! I didn’t believe her until I smell her repugnant scent when you entered at dawn!” Drusilla shrilled at the injured Spike.

He looked at her hand again, as he noticed that the vial contained a clear liquid. At the fire that consumed his mouth, tongue and his throat both inside and out, he believed that it was probably holy water. While he had slept, dreaming of his mate, Drusilla had placed the dangerous liquid upon him. The pain was excruciating. Despite her no longer dripping the corrosive on him, he still felt like he was on fire.

As Spike moved slowly, Drusilla hissed again before she spoke.

“You promised your dark princess that you would always be here for me! Over a hundred years, you have been mine. Now, you’re hers! One dance with sunshine and you're forever gone! Poor Spike, so lost. Even I can't help you now.” Drusilla said tearfully as she pulled a stake from the folds of her gossamer dress.

Spike’s eyes widened. First, at what she had said and more from the new weapon she now clasped. Drusilla shrieked as she ran at Spike, stake raised. Spike quickly rolled away from her charging form. He stood as he eyed the open door across the room. Due to her weakened state Dru was not a formidable competitor, but he still didn’t let his guard down.

As she ran at him again Spike pushed her aside as he ran for the door. Spike dashed into the night away from the only woman that had filled his world for over a hundred years.


Buffy ran without stopping, as they sun dipped below the horizon. She knew that she shouldn’t be frightened or worried about the night. Especially what had transpired between her and Spike. Unfortunately, she was still apprehensive about what she, herself was capable of especially due to the events earlier that evening. She was unsure if the night brought forward her more vamp side. Buffy was determined not to pursue the answer to that question tonight.

As she ran, her mind was filled with overwhelming feelings of pain, betrayal and anger. The myriad of feelings stopped her mid run, as she needed to sit on the side of the road to collect her thoughts. Just as suddenly as they started, they receded. Buffy stood and resumed her quick gait. She shook off these feelings and chalked them up to what had transpired with Giles not too long ago.

As the sky finally filled with a sheet of blackness, Buffy arrived home. As she entered, she felt a relief that one felt when the sanctuary of home surrounded them. Buffy could leave her crazy life once she shut the door. Her mother greeted her with a home cook meal, mundane conversation and mindless television. After their evening together, Joyce retired early due to a busy day at the gallery the next day. As she walked up the stairs, she told Buffy to head to bed soon.

Another hour later, Buffy pulled herself from the couch with a cat-like stretch. As she turned off the late show, she carried her now weary body up the stairs. Despite starting the day on all eight cylinders, she was now moving at a snail’s pace. She felt drained, a little achy. Buffy summarized it was due to not being fully recovered from her prolonged ‘illness.’

When Buffy arrived in her room, after she had completed her bedtime routine, she started to undress. As she stood only donned in her silky panties, her skin started to prickle with an unseen awareness. Buffy immediately knew what this meant, her mate, Spike.

Buffy felt that he was especially close. She paced in her room for several moments as she was mentally at war with herself. Giles’ words from last night filled her mind.

“I don’t know Buffy, nor do I care. My main concern is you.”

“Despite Spike being a soulless demon, one truth remains, you, and he are mated. I also know that he is taking full advantage of that weakness that he has over you. …..it is imperative that you do not make yourself accessible to him. You are to remain indoors at all times when the sun is down.”

Despite what her head and Slayer-ness were telling her, her body was calling to him. In addition to her body, she could sense that something was wrong. She could feel overwhelming waves of confusion and pain both emotional and physical. Finally, Buffy decided to heed to her senses. Find Spike. Buffy hastily dressed determined she needed to find Spike now. As she threw open her bedroom window, Spike’s essence filled her nostrils. When Buffy’s foot hit the roof, she heard a soft shuffle near the window.

Buffy pulled her leg back in an instant. As she sat in the shadows of her room, she called out into the night.

“Spike? Is that you?” Buffy whispered. No response. She decided to ask louder.

“Spike, if that’s you, please answer me.” Buffy urged. She was met with continued silence. Loud enough so she would unquestionably be heard, but not enough to wake her mother, she snapped.

“Spike, for fuck’s sake! Stop playing games! Either you answer me or you can wait for the sun out there for all I care!”

As she started to bring the sash down, she heard the distinctive shuffle of clothes against the roof’s asphalt shingles. Buffy stared intently, as a face appeared in her window. When the streetlights haloed his platinum locks, Buffy knew that it was Spike.

“Now was that so hard? Why are you being all quiet? It’s kinda creeping me out. Usually you’re talking a mile a minute. I swear you love the sound of your own voice.” Buffy jested. Spike remained unusually quiet.


“Spike, do you want to talk? What’s bothering you?” Buffy asked with concern. She was still met with more silence.


“Fine! Spike look I don’t like this anymore. If you want to scare me, you’re doing a great job! When you’re ready to be a grownup, hell you have one hundred and twenty years of practice, you let me know.” Buffy huffed as she started to close the window. Spike started to panic as his only help was shutting him out.

Spike tried to reach out to his mate, and was met with the unseen barrier that kept him from her. As his fingers slid from the invisible obstruction, Buffy was filled with another wave of feelings, sadness and desperation.

“eeessee eell meeee.” Spike moaned.

Buffy’s eyes widened as everything saturated her whole being. Without another thought she stated.

“Spike, get in here now!” As the mystical barrier dissipated, Buffy reached forward to him. She took his hand, as he stepped over the threshold of the window. Buffy silently instructed him to sit on her bed as she turned to close the window. After it was closed, she sat on the bed next to his muted form.

Even though she believed she was part vamp, her night vision was different as her counterpart. She leaned forward and turned on her table lamp. As she faced Spike, the bleached crown of his head met her gaze. His head was tilted away from her eyes, as he tried to hide himself from her.

“Spike, please look at me.” Buffy whispered. After several beats, Spike slowly turned his head toward her. What she saw stilled her breathing.

A sizeable ban of blackened, burned flesh marred his lips, chin and the right side of his jaw. The charred skin traveled down the right side of his throat where her marks were housed. Buffy gently placed her hand on his right cheek as she brought his face toward her. Fury filled her as she looked at him.

“Who did this to you?” Buffy growled as her golden eyes eclipsed her charteuse ones. Spike eyes lowered, she felt an overwhelming wave of disgrace fill her.

“Spike, you did nothing to deserve this, don’t you ever think otherwise!” Buffy announced. His eyes remained lowered, as if he was ashamed of being vulnerable and injured. Buffy’s mind filled with only one thought, vengeance. Despite this demand gnawing, her gut and mind, she needed to first take care of her mate. Pain to those that had done this to him would have to come later.

“Look, first things first. We need to heal you.” Spike’s azure gaze met hers. As he silently thanked her, she stood from her seat.

“I don’t know the extent of your injuries. But what I do know is that you won’t be able to feed from me with your fangs. Stay here I’ll be right back.” Buffy instructed as she started to walk towards the door. As she reached for the knob, she felt a pillow hit her in the back of the head.

“Spike what the hell did you do that for?” Buffy hissed. Spike’s eyes held a mischievous twinkle that was non-existent until just now. He gestured with his finger as he swirled it around the perimeter of his face. After a few sweeps Buffy understood. She was still in game face.

“Thanks. Sorry for my pissyness. Be right back.” Buffy willed her demon to retreat and exited her room. Several moments later, she returned with a sharp kitchen knife. Spike’s scarred eyebrow raised at the instrument. Without words Buffy understood what he was thinking.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I have my own set of knives in my mouth. I just don’t feel right slicing into myself with them. It still creeps me out. And before you say anything, well not that you really could at this time. But when you can, I know that I partook of your blood by….ummm….using my fangs. You just got me so mad being all overbearing and Mr. I’m in Charge. My vamp side was sick of it! You’re lucky that it wasn’t my Slayer side, or you would have been dust in the wind!” Buffy stated with a small smile. Spike cerulean gaze held hers as mirth filled them. Despite how often she just wished he would shut up, she really missed his voice right now.

Buffy blinked twice to clear her thoughts as she held her palm out flat. As she placed the serrated blade to her skin, she spoke.

“I think this is the best place for you to feed from. Anywhere else you would have to suck, and I know that you won’t be able to do that now.” With a slight nod, Buffy dragged the blade across her palm. The wound instantly filled with the rich, heady blood that he needed. Buffy cupped her hand, so no blood would be lost.

Spike’s features shifted into his demon visage, pain filled his body as his fangs descended from his injured gums. He wanted to scream due to the excruciating torture the shift had given him, but he held steady. To scream meant opening his mouth, which would only add to his pain. Buffy’s eyes watered as she felt the torment of her mate.

Buffy remained standing, offering him her palm. He slowly closed his eyes and leaned forward. Spike carefully placed his now burnt lips into the pool of her blood hovering briefly as his willing lips parted. Pain blossomed with the movement. There was an intake of unneeded breath as he brought some blood into his mouth. After several moments, he pulled away. Smeared across his face was her blood. Buffy noticed as his lids flickered open. The pleasure she normally saw in his golden eyes was replaced by suffering.

“Spike, can you open your mouth slightly so I can pour the blood in?” Buffy asked as she started to worry. If he weren’t able to feed, he wouldn’t be able to heal. If he didn’t heal, he wouldn’t be able to feed. It was a vicious circle that would end in Spike possibly fading away. Spike nodded slightly as the charred area that was once his lips, slightly parted.


Buffy placed her hand close to his once lips as she slowly started to pour her blood into his slightly opened mouth. She could see his eyes screw shut as he swallowed the nourishment that he so needed. Once the small pool was gone, Buffy repeated the needed steps to get him what he required. She had to cut herself five times before she felt that he had received enough. Spike’s eyes appeared to be hazy as his body willed him to sleep. Silently, he stood and walked towards the window. Buffy called out to him as he raised the pane.

“Where are you going?” Buffy asked with concern. Spike slowly turned around, placed his palms together, as in prayer and placed them to the side of his cheek. As he leaned his head to the side he closed his eyes.

“Yeah, I know you need to sleep. Just take off your nasty boots and jacket, before you climb under my covers ok. I need to use the bathroom, I’ll be right back.” With that, Buffy left the room.

Spike eyes widened when he realized what she meant. She wanted him to sleep in her room, in her bed. He didn’t even think of the implications when she invited him in. He was too lost in pain to even consider it. Now that he had her sweet Slayer blood flowing through his veins, healing his wounds, his mind could think of other things besides his injuries.

When she returned, Spike was still standing at the window lost in thought. Buffy looked at him then spoke.

“Hey, are you getting ready for bed or what? I really need to go to sleep. Have a busy day tomorrow. Mom is leaving early for work, and is staying at the gallery late. You can stay here all day and recover. I’ll cut out of school early to come and check on you. Sound good?” Buffy asked as she removed her sweat pants. She donned a flimsy white tank top and white silky panties. Spike still remained frozen by the window as this golden beauty approached him.

“Come on, you know how pale you are and the no talking is making me feel like you’re a creepy mime.” Buffy pulled his hand as she brought him back to the bed.

She sat him down, and then returned to the window to close it. She then securely covered the glass with her curtains, to keep the deadly rays at bay. She walked back over to him and kneeled before his motionless form. She untied his laces and removed his heavy Doc Martens from his feet. Then she stood and lowered the leather from his muscular shoulders. He lifted his hips, so she could pull it from under him.

She carried it to her closet, hung it up, and then placed his boots inside. Buffy then approached her bed, pulled back the comforter and sheets of the other side from where he was seated. Buffy slid under the cool cotton, turned to her side, away from him then stated.

“Spike can you please shut off the light, before you lie down.” After several beats, Spike moved. He turned off the light and remained seated. Buffy sat up, looked at his motionless form. She scooted forward and wrapped her arms around his waist and spoke.

“Spike, please come to bed. You need your rest.” Buffy placed a chaste kiss to his clothed back as she slightly pulled his form backwards.

Buffy laid down on her back and opened her arms. Without a sound, Spike slid under the sheets next to her. He clutched her waist as he nuzzled his uninjured cheek upon her chest. Buffy slowly fingered the soft hairs at the base of his neck, as she tried to sooth his now trembling form. As they held each other close sleep soon claimed them both.

Across town, Drusilla walked aimlessly through the streets of Sunnydale. She clutched Miss Edith’s chocolate locks in her fist as the doll's feet dragged along the ground. Tears fell from her aquamarine eyes in streaked tracks down her pale cheeks. Her lips moved as she silently repeated the names of those that she had lost, grand mum, daddy, Spike.

As she continued to walk, she passed through a playground. Upon entering, her demon features flashed when she smelled her, the Slayer. As she plopped herself upon the frozen ground to tantrum, she inhaled another scent.

“Daddy.” Drusilla whispered. After she breathed deep again, she amended herself as her face cringed with the new realization.

“Not daddy. Never daddy. It’s the Angel beast.” She hissed.

As Dru went to stand, she cocked her head to the side, as if she was listening to whispers. As she pulled herself to her full height, she looked upon Miss Edith. Drusilla slowly lifted her up, still by the tresses of her hair, so now her porcelain mouth was beside her ear. Briefly, Dru listened to the imaginary words of the doll. A feral grin graced her features at what she heard.

“Ohhhh, Miss Edith! So wicked! You are right, all must be made right again. Off we go! We have plans that need to be made!” With that, Dru started to travel at a quick clip back to the warehouse.

Once she arrived, she called for her minions. As three gangly vamps scurried forward she looked upon them with disgust.

“Where is the rest of your filthy brethren?” Dru snarled.

“Mistress, they are hunting for themselves and for your Wickedness.” One minion answered, head bowed.

“Well, all will need to be here for the preparations! I will draw a list. You and the others must get everything listed. Is this understood?” Drusilla hissed as she broke into her game face.

“Yes mistress!” Another minion responded.

“Good. Now, fetch your mistress some parchment!” Dru ordered.

All three minions scampered to locate her request. Quickly, one arrived with her demand and handed it to her with his head bowed.

As she placed the sheet upon the table, she snapped her fingers and held her palm up in a silent request for something to write with. All three vamps looked upon one another in confusion.

“A writing utensil you fools!” Dru snarled.

The trio started to pat down their clothing in search for what she commanded. Dru turned; her demon receded, an almost sweet smile upon her face. In a flash she grabbed the closest minion by the scruff of his neck and slammed his face into the rigid wood of the table. With her razor sharp talons, she tore into his throat with a fierce swipe. As the blood welled into the injury, her steel grasp held his head down. With the other, she dipped one sharp nail into the now blood filled ‘ink well’ that she created.

With the claw, she started to scrawl upon the paper her list. She worked quickly as she wrote, frequently dipping the talon for more blood. As her eyes flashed gold, a nonsensical sentence fell from her lips.


“When the tree falls, so will they all!”

She chanted the sentence several times before she completed her writing. She then removed her steel grip from the minion’s head. He then slid from the table, dusting as he reached the floor. Drusilla approached the remaining minions and quickly handed one the list. The paper was still damp with the minion’s blood.

“Now, all that is on that list needs to be present for the party to begin! Do you understand? Anything amiss and you will greet the sun.” Drusilla hissed.

“Yes mistress!” The minion stated as they both proceeded to bow before their departure.

Drusilla filled with immense pleasure began to chant again as her body started to sway as a flame in the wind.

“When the tree falls, so will they all!”

The two minions hurried from their mistress’ presence. Once they arrived outside, they looked upon the blood scrawled list. Their mistress required thirteen people for sacrifice. All must be strong and viral their blood pure and heady. Under this request was scribbled one name.

Willow Rosenberg

The couple was in blissful slumber when the dawn broke, Spike remained clasped to Buffy’s breast as her hand remained on the base of his neck. Despite her attempts to block all the sun’s harmful rays, a small beam streaked into the room. During the evening, neither moved very much. Except that Spike had happened to kick back the covers, now his legs were exposed. On his left leg, the jeans rode up his calf, revealing his alabaster skin. The shaft of light landed on this small patch of bare flesh.

Throughout the evening, Spike’s mind had been clear, at peace. Soon it was filled with dreams of the sun kissing his skin. At first he was frightened, terrified, as he searched for cover, finding none. Unwilling to cower, he looked up at the flaming ball of death, arms spread wide. Several moments passed and nothing, he felt only warmth and safety. Moments later he felt his flesh become hot, not burning, but extremely heated. Since the incident with Drusilla happened less than twenty-four hours prior, his demon burst forward due to these memories.

Spike jumped from the safe haven of Buffy’s arms and landed in the darkened corner of her bedroom. He crouched low to the ground and gave a loud feral growl. Buffy woke with a start, to see what had pulled her from such a peaceful sleep; through hazy eyes, she spotted Spike.


“Spike? What happened? Why are you over there?” Buffy asked as she slowly approached the enraged vamp. His golden eyes narrowed as he tried to focus on the woman before him. His demon was screaming to tear her to shreds, but his mind told him that this was his mate, Buffy, not Drusilla.

“Spike, please you’re scaring me. I’m not going to hurt you. Can you tell me what happened?” Buffy whispered as she continued to approach him. Her Slayer instincts were flaying inside her mind, screaming to get away. Her heart was telling her that this was her mate, and that she needed to protect and comfort him, as of late, her heart won out. As Spike’s chest heaved with unneeded breath, he started to whine like an injured animal. She noticed that he was favoring his left leg.

His demon slowly receded away, and he began to relax, sliding down the wall. He pulled his legs up to his chest, his cerulean eyes showing his pain.

“Spike, is it your mouth?” Buffy asked. He quickly shook his head no. For the first time, she noticed where the charred flesh once was; it appeared that her blood was working. The area was bright red and several blisters dotted along his skin, overnight he had healed quite a bit.

“Ok so it’s not your mouth, what’s wrong then?” Buffy asked as she squatted in front of his seated form. Spike slowly brought his leg down from his chest and pulled up his left pant leg. A red welt had appeared on his pale skin resembling the flesh around his mouth and throat.

“Did she do that too?” Buffy asked as her eyes flashed gold. Spike shook his head ‘no’ and pointed towards the window. As Buffy turned her head, she noticed a stream of light coming into her room. Her eyes widened as she started to apologize.

“Oh Spike. I’m so sorry! I thought I covered the whole window. I’m so sorry, please forgive me.” Buffy pleaded as tears formed on her bottom lids. Spike slid forward and placed his hand on her cheek. He shook his head and the expression in his gaze told her that it was all right, not to worry. Buffy responded.

“But you could have been burned or worse.” Buffy whispered. Spike pulled his pant leg up again and showed her the burn. His brow furrowed as he noticed it should be a lot worse than it was; the sun had been up for over fifteen minutes. He’d been in the corner for approximately ten; that meant that his skin was in the sun’s rays for over five minutes. In that amount of time, he should have caught fire.

Spike stood from the floor and started to approach the window cautiously. He hadn’t been in the sun for over a hundred years. He’d come too close a few times, but not on purpose, and he definitely didn’t ever consider doing what he was about to do. Well, there was that one time to show up Angelus, but that doesn't really count.

Spike stood off to the side of the ray, after several moments, he placed his palm in the direct path of the beam of light. He stood there waiting to burst into flames, or at least begin to smoke. Nothing. He could feel the heat of the sun warming his flesh. It felt wonderful. He felt like a lizard bathing in the midday sun. Buffy watched in awe at the sight before her.

Approximately, five minutes later, he felt the patch of skin start to burn, so he pulled his hand away. As Spike studied his hand, Buffy, who was now standing behind him, looked also in amazement. The area matched the flesh that was on his leg. A red band of burnt skin. Not charred. Not smoking. Only burnt. It resembled a bad sunburn, which one would have from a day at the beach. Well, what he had understood humans received on a hot summer’s day.

“I know that I’m new with this being a vamp thing, but aren’t you supposed to be all blaze of glory now?” Buffy joked.

Spike looked at her as his eyes twinkled with mirth. Buffy smiled as she stated.

“Maybe this is from us being mated or the drinking of my blood? I know I’ve been experiencing some weird stuff too. Like my eyes freaking out with the sunlight and my extra strength that’s above and beyond the basic Slayer package. Oh and last night I said ‘bloody hell’ when I was pissed at Giles for hitting me with a quarterstaff during training. And let’s not forget that after that, I knocked him to the ground and wanted to tear his throat out. Yeah, good times.” Buffy huffed. Spike’s scarred eyebrow shot up as she could tell that he found info quite funny.

“It’s not funny Spike! I did! I wanted to attack him! How can I patrol Sunnydale against vampires, if I want to join the feast?” Buffy sulked as she plopped down on the bed. Spike’s shoulder shrugged as he sat next to her. After several beats, she looked at him and spoke.

“Well, I have to get going to school soon. You can stay here and rest. Nobody will bother you here. First things first though, you need to feed again.” Buffy explained. Spike shook his head ‘no’ as his gaze never left hers.

“Spike, don’t give me a hard time. You can’t get better without blood, and what you have told me, its primo.” Buffy stated as she looked at him, features set.

Spike’s gaze filled with a look she hadn’t seen, desire. She could tell what he wanted her, and she wanted him too. The thoughts of throwing her on the bed and have his wicked way with her pervaded her mind. Since he was injured that would have to wait. ‘Rats!’ her inner slut yelled.

Trying to keep her focus on anything but his desire-filled eyes, Buffy looked at the palm that she had cut before as she spoke.

“Look, obviously you have far worse damage than a burnt face and throat, since you don’t even want to talk. Which hey, is a big time first, but I think it’s best if you feed again. Then when I come back from school, we’ll take it from there.” Buffy commented as she continued to stare at the small line that marred her palm where the knife had sliced into her flesh last night.

"I’m healing much quicker, even than before with Slayer healing. I guess with the combo vamp/slayer abilities, I heal super quick." Buffy's thoughts were interrupted when Spike placed his fingers under her chin and brought her face towards his.

As their gazes met, an unspoken conversation passed between them. After several moments, Spike nodded his head, as Buffy stood to get another knife. When she returned several minutes later, Spike had his other hand in the sun’s rays. His eyes were closed and if she wasn’t mistaken, a small smiled graced his injured lips. He turned once she approached him and sat on the bed.

Buffy stood close to his seated form, as she opened her hand and placed the serrated edge to her flesh. Spike stared at her face intently.

"Bloody gorgeous, my mate. I never knew it could be like this." Spike thought as he looked at her with awe. Once the blade cut into her flesh, as the blood welled, Spike’s demon flashed forward. The change still brought pain, but it was considerably less. ‘Thanks to Buffy.’ Spike thought as he eyed her hand.

As an offering, she brought her hand to his mouth. Spike tenderly cupped her hand under hers. As he fed his thumb swirled softly over her pulse point, just the slightest touch of his mouth and thumb brought shudders through her body. Mindlessly, she reached up with her other hand, and started to play with the fine hairs at the base of his skull. As she watched the erotic sight before her, her eyes became heavy with desire.

As he fed, Spike could smell and feel her arousal. He desperately wanted to take her, satisfy her. Unfortunately Spike knew that he needed to heal before he could bring pleasures of the flesh to his mate. He brought his other hand around her petite waist as he gently urged her to sit upon his lap. Buffy immediately melted into his grasp as she rested her head on his shoulder as he continued to feed.

After several moments he pulled away, placed one tiny lick upon her palm. He then proceeded to place this hand upon her lap. Spike brought his arms around her, encircling her body. Buffy was then pulled into a rib-crushing hug, as the lovers enjoyed each other’s bodies. Spike felt slightly warmer due to her blood flowing through his veins.

Her eyes closed briefly as the thoughts of a “normal” life pervaded her mind. A normal life where she wasn’t the Slayer, or specifically a vamp/Slayer hybrid. A normal life where this man that held her in his arms wasn’t part of the Scourge of Europe, and he wasn’t over a hundred years old vampire. A normal life where they could be happy. No blood, no death, no evil. After several beats, her eyes fluttered open as she stared at the man in front of her. Buffy placed a soft chaste kiss upon his cheek, slowly stood, exiting the room without a word.

When Buffy returned almost forty-five minutes later, Spike was cocooned under her sheets. Even his platinum locks, was engulfed by the fabric. She assumed that he was sleeping, and she didn’t want to wake him. Buffy threw two heavier blankets over the windows and headed off to school. Her eyes fluttered open as she stared at the man in front of her. Buffy placed a soft chaste kiss upon his cheek, slowly stood, exiting the room without a word.


The day dragged by. Her mind kept returning to Spike and how he was faring. Her mind hummed with the returning headache. A few Tylenol helped a little, but the static still remained. Buffy tried to stay away from crowded areas, to no avail. Since this was a high school no quiet or unpopulated area was to be found. Well, there was the library, but after the incident with Giles, she wanted to avoid that place like the plague. She wasn’t ready to face him yet.

As her French teacher droned on and on about conjugating verbs or some such, her mind remembered the last fifteen hours. The closeness that she shared with him, sure thoughts of desire were there, but it was so much more. Ever since Halloween their relationship had been violent and lusty. Last night and this morning it wasn’t like that. They connected in more ways than with their bodies. Without thought she reached out mentally to him. She felt that he was calm, content and almost happy. These thoughts made it easier to complete the rest of the day.

Once the last bell rang, Buffy ran all the way home from school. As she entered the front door, a barefoot, shirtless, Adonis-like man standing in the foyer near the stairs greeted her. With a smirk on his now healed lips, Buffy returned it with a bright smile of her own.

“I see the undead English patient is doing better.” Buffy stated as she closed the door. As she slowly walked forward, she noticed that his skin was mostly healed. His lips were slightly cracked as if they were chapped and the surrounding skin still held a pink hue, but otherwise he was almost fully healed.

“Yeah, your blood works wonders,” Spike lisped. As his eyes rolled at his speech, Buffy stepped forward.

“Well, unless you’re auditioning for Daffy Duck, I wouldn’t say you’ve healed completely,” Buffy stated as she stood before him. As she tenderly placed her hand on his slightly pink tinted cheek, she asked.

“Let me see your mouth?” Buffy asked. Spike’s eyes filled with a renewed desire. Buffy felt this humming in her veins. Her eyes closed at the assault. As she willed her eyelids open she whispered.

“Please, I need to see the inside…..of your mouth.” As his gaze darkened slightly, he followed her instruction. Buffy tried to get her bearings from the barrage of desire, hers and his.

It was difficult to see completely into his mouth. First, since she was shorter that him, and secondly, he was only able to open a few inches. The hand on his cheek moved to his arm, as she guided him over to the stairs. As she stood on the bottom stair, they were almost eye-to-eye. Buffy took a deep steadying breath as she looked into his mouth. For the second time in less than a day, her breath caught in her throat.

As her eyes flashed gold, anger filled her to the core. His mouth was completely tattered. His tongue for what she could see was still charred and the tip was missing. His gums were bright red and swollen. Before she could say anything, Spike placed his hand on her face to calm her.

“It’s alright luv. I’m fine. It will take time to heal, but you’ve helped so much already. Don’t fret.” Spike murmured.

“Spike, she needs to be put down! The crazy bitch will taste the end of my stake!” Buffy fumed as her fangs started to descend. With this statement, Spike’s demon flared forward. As a fierce growl emitted from his chest, he spoke.

“Slayer, you will do no such thing! She is to remain unharmed, do you understand?” Spike roared. Buffy’s golden eyes widened at his demand. After everything, everything between them and what she had done, he still put her first. Well, that wouldn’t sit well with her. As she pushed away from him, she roared back.

“So that’s how it is? She almost kills you, I feed you my blood, and she’s what, forgiven! God you are so twisted!” With that she stormed up the stairs. Before she could slam her bedroom door shut, his hand held it open. Spike pushed himself inside, and then grabbed her by the upper arms.

“She has been my world for over a hundred years! You seem to forget that one little fact. I owe my undead life to her. True, turnabout is fair play she should be dusted. However, it won’t be by my hands, or yours. Do you understand that Slayer?” Spike growled.

“Yeah Spike, I get it. Loud and clear. Just you need to understand this I am what you call me, the Slayer and I have a job to do. That means that any vamp that gets in my way will meet a dusty end. You included.” With that Buffy pushed past him to head back downstairs. Spike stopped her in the hallway, by grabbing her arm. Reflexively her leg shot out and swept his feet from under him. As he lay sprawled in the hallway, her angry form hovered over him.

“Don’t ever grab at me! Do you understand? I will not be pushed around, not by you, not by anyone else! Got it!”

“Yeah, I do.” Spike whispered as his vampire visage melted away.

Buffy could feel waves of confusion and hurt roll off his form as he pulled himself off the floor, as he sat up with his back to the wall. She tried to ignore these feelings as she walked downstairs, but they slowed her steps. Finally, a mid way down, she stopped and looked up. With a deep huff, she turned and walked back up. Spike remained on the floor, her demon side disappearing, she approached him as she spoke.

“Look, I don’t want to fight. Whether we like it or not, we’re connected, until Giles can find a way to break the claim. These feelings we have between us are just that, the claim. Our hearts belong to others. Despite our disapproval of those choices, the fact remains, we have to work together. If that means me accepting that you are going to protect that psycho chick, then so be it. Now if we are done with our fight, I really need to nap or something my head is pounding.” Buffy stated as she walked over him and entered her bedroom.

Spike pulled himself from the floor as he followed her into the room. Her feelings and thoughts encased him as he felt all of them; hurt, anger, aggravation, and a slight hunger.

“Slayer, you need to feed. I assume that you haven’t since that night when you did from me. Am I right?” Spike asked as he approached her as she was lying on her side facing away from him.

“No, no hemoglobin since that night.” Buffy murmured.

“Well, even though you didn’t become a vamp under typical circumstances, you are still a fledgling. As a fledgling you need to feed every day or at the least every other day. It’s been longer than that, and you're feeding me, your starving. In addition to you being with all the young Happy Meals all day, I’m surprised that your head didn’t blow off your shoulders.” Spike stated as he sat on the bed close to her.

“Well, I’m not going to be biting my fellow Sunnydaleans if that is what you’re suggesting.” Buffy snapped.

“You have to. If you go too long, you’ll fall into a blood lust. And when that happens, you’ll attack anyone that has the ruby red you’re craving, that includes your mum.” Spike stated. Buffy sat up quickly at his statement. Her eyes filled with horror at that thought. She looked to him and questioned.

“Then what can I do?” Buffy whispered.

“You didn’t seem to have an issue from feeding from me. Maybe that’s the way. I’ll feed from the populous, and you feed from me.” Spike explained brusquely.

“Spike I can’t have you killing people, so I can be fed! I hate that you do it for yourself and believe you, me, I’m still at war with myself that I haven’t dusted you yet. Never mind for killing for me! It would be like I have my fangs in their throats. I won’t do it!” Buffy snapped.

“Don’t be stubborn Slayer! You need to feed, this is the only way. Well, unless you want to feed from Fluffy down the street. Oh maybe tall, dark and forehead would lend a neck?” Spike growled as his vampire visage flashed again. The thoughts of her feeding from him made him fill with fury. Before she commented his demon receded.

“No, no dogs or cats or anything else on two or four legs that are furry, gross! Also, not really on good terms with Angel right now so his supplies and his neck are a no go.” Buffy explained.

“Fine that settles it then. My tasty throat is it. How about a compromise? I’ll feed, but I won’t kill?” Spike asked as his last question was muffled.

“What?” Buffy asked as her brow furrowed.

“I said, I’ll feed, but I won’t kill. It will take twice as many people, since I can’t drain them, and that I have to provide for you, but I could make it work. Well, if that’s what you want me to do?” Spike asked. Buffy thought several moments. As she looked into his azure gaze, she could see that he was telling the truth.

“Fine. Not the best answer to this conundrum, but it can work. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this Spike. I prefer nobody being a donor, but that’s not realistic. So, thanks. Both my Slayer side and my pounding head thanks you,” Buffy said with a slight smile.

“No problem Slayer. So get some kip. When you wake, I’ll probably be gone. When I get back, we’ll do what needs to be done. Now, if you don’t mind, even though I am of the undead I hate smelling like one. I’m going to grab a shower.” With that Spike stood and exited the room.





Later that night at the Bronze……

“I really wish that Buffy would have reconsidered coming tonight.” Willow stated as she frowned into her soda. As she swirled the ice around with her straw, she looked up at her companion, Xander.

“Yeah, I know Wills. It’s just since she has traded to the dark side, she’s been sorta MIA, and I don’t just mean physically. When she’s around, she’s not really there. Do you know what I mean?” Xander asked as he took a brief sip of his drink.

“Yeah, I do. We use to tell each other everything, now nothing. I mean I know that she was in the hospital this week, big thing. However, when she came back to school yesterday and again today, she has been nonexistent. Besides our meeting on Thursday night, I haven’t spoken nor seen her since. How about you?” Willow asked Xander.

“Nada on the Buffy sightage,” Xander stated.

“She and Giles had seemed so secretive. I mean more secretive. Not she’s the secretive Slayer. On Thursday afternoon, when we were around, they were so tight lipped. I get the feeling that there is a lot that they're not telling us. I hate being out of the loop!” Willow huffed.

“Well, outside looking in, that is us.” Xander retorted.

As the pair sat in silence, they were completely unaware of a dark figure that watched their every move.

“Is Buffy here tonight?” Angel asked as he approached their table. Willow let loose at big ‘eep’, while Xander spat out his mouthful of soda. The duo glanced over to the brooding vamp next to them.

“Don’t do that!” Willow rushed out, as she held her hand to her chest.

“Yeah Deadboy, try to give some of us humans heads up before you approach them all stealthy like.” Xander blasted.

“Sorry. Well, is she here? I haven’t seen her patrolling or anywhere else for the past few days. I’m starting to really worry about her. The last time I saw her, we didn’t exactly part on the best of terms.” Angel explained.

“Well Deadboy, doesn’t that give you a clue that she doesn’t want to see you?” Xander snapped.

“Xander!” Willow hissed. “Sorry Angel. Xander, well he’s being Xander. We haven’t seen much of Buffy either. After her….ummm….illness, she hasn’t been around much of late.” Willow explained.

“So you know?” Angel inquired

“Do we know……?” Willow retorted, trying to coax his response.

“About Buffy’s……?” Angel responded, as he tried to coax hers.

“Look, we all know! We don’t have to go through the wink, wink, nudge, nudge routine! Yes, we all know that Buffy is playing on the undead team now!” Xander huffed

“Xander, ixnay on the ampirevay!” Willow hissed

“ Willow, I know. The last time I ran into her, she sorta became angry with me. In addition to swatting me around like I was a rag doll, I saw her game face.” Angel explained.

“Well, now that just the best thing I’ve heard all night!” Xander announced as he raised his glass in toast. Ignoring Xander, Willow continued.

“So what does this all mean? Giles and Buffy explain to us some of it, that Buffy’s some vamp/Slayer hybrid. She does have some of a vamp’s weaknesses, but also has some of their strengths. Well, I guess you got firsthand knowledge of that. However, Xander and I have so many more questions. Like how did she get this way? Was it from Halloween?” Willow questioned

“What happened at Halloween?” Angel asked with interest.

“You don’t know?” When Angel nodded ‘no’ she continued “I know Halloween is a night off for all that goes bump in the night, so you must have stayed home uh?” Willow asked to Angel. With a brief nod yes, she continued. “Well, we all purchased costumes from this place called Ethan’s. Well long story short, surprise, surprise, he was evil. All his costumes turned everyone into what they were dressed as. I was a real ghost, Xander an Army guy, Buffy…..”

“A vampire.” Angel finished her sentence.

“Yeah. Just for the record, to let you know, this costume was not her first, not even really a choice at all. The costume that she had picked out ripped. So she couldn’t wear it. Since we needed to get to Snyder’s voluntary/mandatory trick or treating thing, she had to get dressed fast. She originally was going to be a coiffed debutant.” Willow explained.

“Why would she choose…..” Willow looked at him with her eyebrow raised. “For me?” Angel asked.

“Yeah. Instead she wore fangs that were purchased from Ethan’s. Voila, instant vamp! After that night, Buffy became sick. I mean really sick. She ended up in the hospital, needed a blood transfusion. The doctors believed that she had anemia. From what Giles told us, she was in actuality, changing. Now she’s some part vamp, part Slayer. However, that is all we know. Giles and Buffy have been extremely tight lipped about everything. Sorry I can’t tell you more,” Willow stated.

“No, you’ve told me a lot. Like I said, last time I saw Buffy, we weren’t really discussing anything. Did Giles or Buffy say anything about Spike being involved?” Angel stated as he growled Spike’s name.

“No, nothing. We don’t know how she became part vamp. Was it from being bitten or just after effects from Ethan’s spell, they won’t say. Why do you ask?” Willow inquired.

“It’s just, I smelt Spike on her when I saw her last. At first I thought that he was close by. After a few moments, I realized that the smell came from….from her.” Angel explained.

“Why would she smell, and by the way, that smelling thing, kinda gross. Of Spike?” Willow asked with a furrow in her brow.

“Oooo….ooooo. I know this. Think brain think. I got it! One night this week, I went to the library. Giles and Buffy were there. So was Deadboy Jr. He had Buffy in his skanky arms, getting all close like. I tried to stake him. Well, needless to say, didn’t get too far. Anyway, Buffy begged me to leave. Then Giles yelled at me to leave. So I left. Does that help you any?” Xander asked.

“Yeah, that could be some of the explanation. I know you don’t want to hear this, but she also had marks. Bite marks, on her neck. They were Spike’s.” Angel explained

“What! Do you think Giles knows? How do you know that were Spike’s?” Willow asked, as her eyes widened.

“I was around Spike for almost two decades, plus I’m his grandsire. I can tell my childe’s marks.” Angel explained in a hushed tone.

“Great! Just great! Now we have to deal with both of you?” Xander huffed

“So Angel, what are we going to do?” Willow asked, completely ignoring Xander’s outburst.

“I don’t know. First I think I should go to the source. Well, the second source, Giles. I’m not going to go to Buffy. Knowing Spike like I do, if he has any hand in why Buffy is part vamp, he won’t be too far behind. I won’t be able to get to her more than once, so I have to make it count. Once I get enough information, I’ll go to her. Hopefully, I can convince her that Spike is bad news and needs to be dealt with, on the pointy end of a stake,” Angel explained.

“I’d like to amend what I said earlier, that is the best thing I’ve heard all night!” Xander stated as he raised his glass again.

Willow rolled her eyes at Xander and then spoke to Angel.

“Okay. Please let us know whatever you find out. You’re not the only one left out of the loop,” Willow explained.

“Will do.” Angel stated as he walked away from the table. Willow faced Xander as she spoke.



“Yeah, let’s head off. Let me walk you home.” With that the pair headed out into the night. As they continued through the darken streets of Sunnydale, they discussed mundane things. Off to their right side, as slight rustling in the bushes stopped their movements. They both stood and listened.

“Xander, is it, me or do you hear something?” Willow whispered with fright

“No Wills, it’s not you. Let’s get the hell out of here. I’m so not wanting to be a vamp’s dinner tonight.” Xander stated as he grabbed her upper arm as he started to move forward with fast-paced steps. Several moments passed as they moved closer to Willow ’s home. As they approached, their feet slowed down as they saw their destination in sight.

“I think that we should…..” Xander started as Willow was pulled from his grasp by a snarling vamp. The vamp placed his hand over Willow ’s mouth as he started to drag her flailing form into the darkness. As Xander lunged forward to grab for her, he was attacked from behind. A vamp held his arms behind his back, as another stalked forward. He blocked Xander’s view from where Willow was being taken off.

“Now, are you worthy of being a sacrifice for our mistress?” The vamp hissed as he approached.

Out of the night, a charging burly form plowed into the vamp that held Xander’s arms. As the first vamp took off, Xander was thrown to the ground from the sheer force of the attacking person that had pulled the second vamp from him. As he recovered from his fall, he looked in the short distance to see Angel, vamped out, quickly decapitating one of Xander’s captors. As the dust swirled around his form, he stood and approached Xander. Still in game face he asked.

“Are you alright? You weren’t bitten were you?” Angel lisped.

“I’m fine. It’s Willow! A vamp took her somewhere! I couldn’t see due to that other vamp that took off, was blocking my view. Angel we have to find her!” Xander yelled as he started to frantically whip his head around in an attempt to find which way they went.

Angel lifted his head to catch her scent. As he started to run in the direction that he believed that they headed, Xander started to trail behind. As the pair ran for several minutes, Angel stopped abruptly, as he bent down to pick something up. Xander came up from behind and asked.

“Why are you stopping?” He asked between his heavy pants, hands on his knees. Angel turned to face him as he held up a jacket, Willow’s jacket.

“I don’t think this is the way they came. The bastards are trying to throw us off their trail. I think if we keep going this way, we’ll just find more of her clothes. I’m sorry Xander. I don’t know which way to go.” Angel murmured as he continued to look around trying to get a glimpse of some sort of hint, which way she went. Xander ignored him and kept walking. When he approached her shoes lying on the side of the road, he unwilling admitted that Angel was right. The defeated Xander took a deep breath and spoke.

“We have to find Buffy.” Xander stated as he headed towards 1630 Revello Drive, Angel following behind.

““Buffy! Buffy! Are you here?” Xander called out storming through the Summers’ front door.

Angel remained at the threshold staring into her home. He was bombarded by Spike’s scent the moment Xander breached the barrier. Angel held a steady leash on his demon visage, but the hold became more difficult to manage the longer he was exposed to Spike’s essence. After several beats a bedraggled Buffy, walked to the top of the steps.

Her hair was slightly wild, her bedtime clothes askew. Angel’s demon roared forward at this lovely sight. With the combination of Buffy’s appearance the abundance of Spike’s distinct scent, Angel and his demon assumed the worst, they had been upstairs, together.

“Xander why are you screaming, remember part vamp. I could hear you, even if you whispered.” Buffy responded as she placed her hand on her head, as if she was in pain.

Neither man noticed her discomfort, as she descended the stairs Xander frantically informed her of what had just transpired.

“Willow was taken? By who, a vamp?” Buffy asked standing in front of the distraught Xander.

“So am I Xander. Let’s go into the kitchen and figure out our next step.” For the first time since the pair had arrived, Buffy’s eyes traveled to Angel. With a slight eyebrow raise she commented dryly.

“Angel, you know you’re invite is still, in effect. You don’t need to brood at my door.”

“I know. It’s just common courtesy wait for an invitation,” Angel stated with a slight shoulder shrug.

“Well, come on it, but lose the fangs. Before you ask, no, he’s not here, but he soon will be. So all of you better behave, I’m not in the mood for testosterone fest ’97!” Buffy growled as she walked toward the kitchen.

Angel passed slowly over the threshold and quietly closed the door. With a slight shake of his head, his demon visage melted away. Even though he didn’t need to breathe, Angel held his breath so the ‘Spike-stink’ didn’t bother him anymore than it already did. As they gradually followed her retreating form, Xander whispered to Angel.

“Who is she talking about?”

“Spike,” Angel growled.

“Spike!” Xander whispered loudly stopping abruptly in the hallway.

“Yes Xander, Spike! Now is not the time to discuss it! Willow is the only concern right now. So hurry up you two, so we can talk strategy,” Buffy called loudly from the kitchen.

The two entered into the still darkened room. Despite the lack of light, Angel could see Buffy’s form as she was seated at the small bistro table. She continuously massaged her temples. Before Angel could speak Xander muttered.

“Buffy, I don’t really feel too comfortable with being in a dark room with a vampire, even if he claims that he’s a good guy.” With that, Xander started to shuffle towards the sink, which was illuminated by the moon’s rays.

“Two vamps Xander,” Buffy lisped.

“Spike’s here!” Xander yelled as he fumbled with the utensil draw in an attempt to find something sharp to use as a weapon.

“No, she’s referring to herself,” Angel explained to Xander. Then he added, “Buffy is your headache from hunger? When’s the last time you fed?” Angel asked as he had moved from the kitchen’s doorway, to sit at the table with her.

“Yeah and I don’t know, a few days,” Buffy responded.

“Buffy, for lack of a better term, you’re still a fledgling. You can’t go that long. Really bad things could happen, if you wait any longer,” Angel explained.

“I know Angel, Spike said the same thing. Don’t worry I’ll feed, I’m just waiting for……” Buffy stated as she was interrupted by a deep baritone voice behind them.

“Me,” Spike purred. Xander let out a very unmanly ‘eek’ as he was now in a room filled with vamps. Even though one was Buffy, the other Angel, who is a self-proclaimed good guy, but now the addition of Spike, put him over the edge.

“Buffy, not feeling too comfortable here, can we at least turn on the light and give me one of your stakes, so I feel a little better?” Xander pleaded.

The heady smell of Xander’s fear filled the room as Buffy’s head gradually turned toward him. With a slight growl Buffy stood, as she faced the producer of the fear and heartbeat that overwhelmed her senses. In a flash, Spike moved from the doorway to the table. His muscular arms wrapped around her petite form, as he kept her from attacking Xander.

“Now, now kitten. Relax. I’ve got all that you need here in my veins. Let me take care of you,” Spike cooed as he ran his hands lovingly over her golden hair. With this display of affection, Angel’s demon burst forward, as a loud warning growl filled the room. An echoed growl sounded, from Spike’s chest, as his demon erupted forth.

“Be wise and stand down peaches! She’s my mate and I will do what’s right for her. No matter what you, or your shiny soul has to say about it!” Spike growled.

“Boy, you tend to forget, I’m your sire, and I will do what seems fit! If I wanted to challenge the claim I could easily do so!” Angel roared in response.

“Well granddad, you could try to take my mate. However, just know I’ll dust before I give her to you willingly! In addition, as a little side note, you can’t start asserting your sire rights, when you’ve been all soul-happy for almost hundred years! While you were rubbing rat filth all over your face and left us to fend for ourselves!” Spike retorted with an ear-splitting snarl. Before Angel could respond, Buffy’s weak voice was interjected.

“Spike, please, I can’t hold on any longer,” Buffy moaned as she started to swoon. Instantly, Spike scooped up her shaky form as he pushed past Angel and headed upstairs to her room.

As he bounded up the stairs two at a time, he reached her room quickly. He rushed forward through her door and gently placed her on her bed. Quickly, he shed his duster. As Spike looked upon her petite form, he thought if his heart still beat, it would have skipped and shuddered. She seemed so small, like she did in the hospital. Spike knew if she didn’t feed and soon, she would end up back there or worse. His demon started to whine in his head at the thought of the loss of their mate.

Spike slowly sat upon the bed and pulled her weak body into his arms. As he rested her heavy head upon his shoulder, he started to coax her to feed, with his words and caresses.

“Sweetheart, open those beautiful green eyes for me. It’s time to get you strong again,” Spike cooed as he placed his fingers under her chin, so he could look upon her face.

Her eyes remained closed as her face took on an extreme paleness that matched the same pallor she had in the hospital. It almost appeared that she was sleeping, but she wouldn’t wake. “Almost like Sleeping Beauty,” Spike inwardly sighed.

Soon he started to frantically worry at how serious her still form was. Then his mind thought of a solution. He looked for the knife that Buffy had used on her hand when he needed to feed. As he eyed it on the end table, he shuffled forward, with her still encased in his arms and reached out for it. Spike immediately placed the serrated edge to his throat, and pulled the blade forward. His wound quickly filled with heady blood. Spike gently tilted her head towards the gash and waited.



A few beats later, he felt her rouse in his arms. She shifted slightly as she brought her mouth to his throat, and she latched onto the wound. After a few tentative lengthy licks, Spike felt two razors sharp fangs enter his throat. A pleasurable moan instantly fell from his lips, as his arm wrapped tighter around her form, the other wound into her hair as she fed.

Spike could hear her purrs resound from her chest as she continued to feed. Lightning-quick, Buffy shifted her legs, so she now straddled his lean waist. Her hips swirled as she ground into his hard erection, while her mouth worked at his throat. Spike started to fumble with the fastening of his jeans, as he desired to feel her scorching core as it surrounded his cock.


“What’s taking so long?” Xander whined as he walked towards the doorway of the now lit kitchen. Angel’s relentless pacing form, stepped in front of him to block his departure.

“Don’t do it Xander. You have no idea what a vamp that is feeding, especially one that is hungry can do. This doesn’t even count, trying to separate a mate from one another. You’ll end up dead…..immediately. That’s the good scenario.” Angel stated as his demon visage fading as he spoke.

“How the hell would my quick death be a good scenario?” Xander screeched.

“They could tear you apart before they kill you,” Angel answered in a blunt, harsh tone.

“What are we supposed to do? Sit here while Willow is kidnapped by some vamp and Spike is getting free Slayer blood!” Xander yelled.

“Buffy is feeding from him, not the other way around,” Angel grunted as these thoughts of Buffy latched to Spike’s throat, burned into his mind.

Angel’s demon clawed in his brain to be released and claim what was rightfully his. Despite this overpowering drive, he held firm and remained in the kitchen. Xander’s eyes widened at the thought of Buffy as she drank blood. His mind hastily shoved that thought away as he spoke again.

“What did you mean when you were referring to a claim? Spike has this over Buffy?” Xander asked with concern.

“No, they’re mated. The claim is two sided. I don’t know how, or why, all I know are they belonging to one another. Only the death of one can break the claim,” Angel explained.

“So then this is an easy fix, let’s stake Spike,” Xander stated as he tried to walk past Angel again. Angel’s hand shot out as he growled.

“It’s not that simple! There is a chance, a good chance, that if he dies that she will too. If she doesn’t immediately, she’ll refuse to feed, and then she’ll fade away.” Angel cringed as the thought of Buffy’s death, pained him soul deep.

“Ok, so that’s not an option. Well, you’re his sire or some such. Doesn’t that mean you rule over him or something? Can’t you just take the claim away?” Xander asked, a small newfound hope shining in his eyes.

“No it doesn’t work that way. It’s not like King of the Mountain, when someone declares they are it, means they are. Mating claims are very tricky. Both parties have to agree for it to bind them, it can’t be forced. Both vamps must do the ritual, or otherwise it doesn’t work. Sure, I, being his sire, can dispute the claim. This means that I would have to fight Spike. Which in itself is not the problem, but the problem lies in the fact that I can’t kill him. With me knowing Spike and how extremely dedicated he is to someone he cares for, that’s what it would take to break the claim. He’ll never submit to me. Then we’re back to the initial issue. Killing Spike may equal killing Buffy. Plus, Buffy would have to want me to claim her, and I doubt she would agree to it a second time, knowing what she knows now. I would never do that to her. Having her whole being, connected to another monster?” Angel's question hung in the air as he sat in a boneless heap at the table.

As Angel's mind admitted partial defeat, he could hear the distinct sounds of Spike’s intense pleasure and the unique reverberation of contentment that was made by a vamp feeding, which were Buffy’s purrs. Angel’s demon clawed at this mind and soul. It wanted blood, both Spike’s, as he forced him to submit to his will and more so Buffy’s, as he drew her essence unto himself, to bring her immense pleasure. Both Angel and Angelus wanted to be the one to create the sounds of decadence that echoed from her form.

“Mine! Buffy is mine and mine alone! Angel, claim what is rightfully ours!” Angelus roared. Before Angel could be swept under by his inner commands, Xander’s voice grounded him.

“Can’t you just feed from her and claim her without her doing it back?” Xander asked.

“No, if I feed from her, even if I could and neither of them decapitating me in the process, this would just be that, a feed. Nothing more,” Angel sighed heavily. Before the sounds could claim his mind again, without another word, Angel stood and exited the backdoor. Only the sound of the slammed door signaled his goodbye.

“Well, I’ll just wait here. Wait for Buffy to come down. Whenever that happens,” Xander sighed as he plopped himself onto the chair speaking to an empty room.

Spike freed himself from his denim confines, his hands wound into her pajamas. Buffy continued to leisurely pull the heady blood from his throat, she felt his talented hands as they explored her heated body. He sought her core working his hands into the fabric of her pants, Buffy’s hip shifted as she sought his touch. Spike grasped either side of the seams and pulled harshly. Under the strain, the seams parted, as the cool air of the room flowed between her folds.

“Please, Spike. Touch me,” Buffy moaned, as she desired his gifted touch.

Buffy pulled her mouth from his neck, as her golden gaze sought his cerulean ones. In one shift, Spike lifted her hips upwards, and with one forceful plunge downwards, impaled her upon his rigid cock. Their combined moans intertwined, just as their bodies united. Buffy’s lips and fangs devoured Spike’s mouth as she hungrily feasted upon him. Her fangs pierced his tongue and lips as she roughly kissed him. As his blood again began to trickle down her throat, the tempo of her hips increased.

The room was filled with melodious mews and groans of pleasure counterbalanced by brutal slaps of flesh meeting flesh.

Buffy’s hands rested upon Spike’s shoulders, and she began to ride him at a quick gallop. Spike held her lower back in one strong hand the other grabbed a fistful of golden hair as bending her neck backwards. Despite his demon’s demand to feed, his talented tongue and mouth were the only things feasting on her throat.

“Mmmm….Spike, that’s it baby!” Buffy shouted as her relentless pace continued.
Spike pulled his mouth from her tender flesh his growl causing her body to hover on the crest of her first orgasm.

“That’s it kitten! So hot…so tight…you’re burning me with your sweet cunny.”

Spike removed his hand from her hair, placing it between their writhing bodies. Spike immediately found her distended clit plucking the nub between his finger and thumb. This ministration brought Buffy to climax with a howl of sheer bliss.

Spike’s hips continued their assault as he sought his own release. Without warning, he flipped her onto the bed, as he remained intimately connected to her. Spike pulled his body back slightly so he could shift her hips. The change brought her womb into another position. With each stroke, his pelvis rubbed against her swollen clit, which caused pulses of electricity to surge through her. Spike could feel her inner walls tremble as her womb announced another impending orgasm. Buffy’s nails dug into his back as she mewed her overwhelming pleasure.

“Spike….please make me cum…make me cum!” Buffy ordered as her hips met his slamming together brutally.

Spike then roared his release with three more vicious twists of his hips. His demon surged forward as he peaked. Buffy felt his demon as it called to her, without thought she offered her neck to him. Spike stared at this beautiful woman in his arms momentarily before he struck. Another earth-shattering climax tore through her body as Spike drew two mouthfuls of her sweet elixir into his body. In turn, Buffy’s fangs returned to his throat. After two more pulls, Buffy placed two impassioned licks upon her marks as she closed the wounds. Once each pulled away from the other’s throats, their mouths fused in a passionate and savoring kiss. Their heated gazes met as each could feel their connection increase two-fold. Buffy’s voice broke through their intermingled breaths.

“Oh my god……I’m such as ass! Spike get up!” Buffy ordered pushing at his still cotton-covered chest.

“Don’t wanna. I’m right comfy here. You also haven’t had the immense pleasure of a vamps refractory period,” Spike purred as his eyebrows wiggled suggestively.

As soon as the words left his mouth, Buffy could feel his once softened member fill her with hardness once more. A moan of pleasure tumbled from her lips. Her inner walls became delightfully caressed by his erection. After several beats, Buffy started to shake her head vehemently as she spoke.

“Spike….get up!” Spike’s scarred eyebrow shot up before he commented.

“That’s what I’m doing,” he purred

“Fine, more specifically get out! A vamp kidnapped Willow! I have to save her, now!” Buffy barked. Spike’s face filled with the expression of ‘Who’s Willow?’ As Buffy read his expression and felt his sense of confusion, she explained

“Remember red hair, perky, good with computers, new on the witchy scene…Ringing any bells?” Buffy scoffed. After several beats Spike responded.

“Oh, one of your mates? The other groupie, but not the whelp. She’s been kidnapped? By whom?”

“That’s what we need to figure out. Xander told me it was a vamp and……you know what? Even though I thoroughly enjoy this position with you, it is not conducive to any heavy thought that is not groiny in nature. Let’s get dressed.” Begrudgingly Spike pulled from her fiery depths.

Both felt as if a part of them was missing after they separated. Each chose to focus on the conversation at hand and the act of getting dressed instead of addressing the unexplored, overwhelming feelings.

“So you say the bird was kidnapped. Not just dragged away and fed upon?” Spike questioned.

“Yeah, both Xander and Angel went to look for her and only found her clothes here and there. No Willow,” Buffy explained.

“Uh. That’s not typical vamp behavior. First off, a young vamp, well under fifty-ish won’t attack two people together. They usually go for a single person away from the crowd. Easy pickins’. Secondly, they would only pull their victim just far enough away from others to feed. They definitely wouldn’t drag her to god knows where, too much effort. Thirdly, a fledgling wouldn’t be stupid, wait let me rephrase that, and a fledgling would have the innate knowledge to not go against a master vamp. If Angel was there, they would have sensed him within a three block radius at least and would have avoided him like the sun,” Spike explained.

Buffy ripped the remains of her pajamas from her body and held them up to assess the damage.

“Ya know these were my favorite Yummy Sushi pjs!” Buffy huffed.

“Well that should teach you to wear anything when you feed from me. Tip for next time, I require dual penetration,” Spike purred as he sensually licked his full lips. Buffy’s eyes focused on this talented muscle as it rimmed his mouth. Quickly, she shook her head and continued.

“O.k, so you’re saying this isn’t a feed. The only other reason a vamp would take someone is for a ritual or revenge. They usually go hand in hand.” Buffy explained as she looked through her draws to find a tissue to clean up their mixed spendings.

Without a word, Spike picked up a towel from the floor he had used earlier in the day to dry his body with. He handed the linen to her, she silently nodded, and she began to wipe her inner thighs. Spike’s eyes darkened as the sight before him.

“You know, I’m better equipped to handle clean up,” Spike purred. His gifted tongue wiggled suggestively towards her, as this action followed his seductive words. Buffy was again mesmerized by his sheer, raw sexuality.

Spike could smell her renewed arousal and felt her desire pulse forward in violent waves. The black pupils of his eyes swallowed the blueness until only a ring of azure remained. As Spike slowly stalked forward, his moments jarred her lust-riddle mind to function again.

“No….no. Stay right there buddy boy. I’m a horrible Slayer and a worse friend right now. The only thing that is going to happen right now is us saving Willow,” Buffy stated as she quickly finished cleanup and yanked on a fresh pair of white cotton panties.

“You think granny panties are going to deter me Buffy? I’d want you if you were in a burlap sack,” Spike purred as he continued to get closer.

“Spike, please. I really need to do this. Please understand?” Buffy asked as a slight pout formed on her bottom lip.

“Oh look at that lip, I’m gonna get it,” Spike growled as he pulled her into a fierce, passionate kiss. After several beats, she weakly placed her hands upon his muscular chest and reluctantly pulled away.

“Fine, let’s get this done. So I can ravish you right and proper,” Spike purred as he placed a chaste kiss upon her swollen lips.

“Let’s get downstairs and tell the other’s what we figure out,” Buffy explained. Spike’s tongue snaked out from between his teeth as he grinned wide as a Cheshire cat.

“No, not that! Behave!” With that Buffy exited her room, Spike in tow.

Xander was still seated at the table when Buffy and Spike came downstairs. He kept his head lowered since he couldn’t fathom looking at either of them. Despite how much he cared for Buffy, the thought of her upstairs with him made his blood boil. Xander was also aware if he looked at Dead boy Jr. his smug look would tell him everything he did not want to know.

“Xander, where’s Angel?” Buffy asked as she noticed that he was missing.

“I don’t know. I think you upstairs with him was just a little too much for him to bear. Now me, I’m just a glutton for punishment, so here I sit,” Xander scoffed.

A loud warning growl sounded from Spike’s chest at the treatment of his mate by this boy. Buffy gently placed her hand on his chest, right over his unbeating heart, to calm him. Strangely, it had worked, well for now.

“Did he say….?” Buffy began to ask as Xander interrupted her with a loud yell, as the chair he sat on slid back and toppled over.

“Like I said Buffy, I don’t know where he went! I don’t keep track of your vamps! I came here tonight to find my best friend Willow! Instead I’m subjected to you feeding from some disgusting creature of the night, which you were sworn to kill, and who knows what else you gave him!” Enraged Buffy stepped forward to slap him instead she was met with only air. Spike had Xander by the throat, with his back harshly pushed against the kitchen island. In full game face, Spike roared his response.

“Don’t you dare address my mate in such a manner, again! Do you understand? You’re fortunate that you’re my mate’s friend, or your mouth wouldn’t be the only thing open here. My fangs would shred your throat in one moment flat! How she has tolerated you and your kind for one moment is beyond me, just know this……” Spike’s words were cut short by Angel husky form as he tackled Spike to the ground.

As the two master vampires fought, they used fists and fangs, Buffy knew that she needed to break them apart. Buffy understood that it was foolish to attempt to pull one from another. She would only get caught in the fray. Quickly, she remembered how her mother would separate two tomcats that were fighting outside the house. She pulled the sprayer from the kitchen sink and turned the water on full blast. As the cold water saturated the two vamps, they quickly broke apart as the deluge of water stunned them.
Angel and Spike sat on the kitchen floor, as they panted heavy unneeded breaths, while Buffy addressed them.

“That is enough! the two of you put together are older that the Declaration of Independence! Nevertheless, you’re fighting like a pair of five year olds! We need to find Willow! Now Spike and I were discussing possibilities' upstairs. Now if you two are quite through, let’s talk strategies,” Buffy huffed as she placed her hand out to help Xander off the floor.

“This goes for you too. Knock it off!” Buffy ordered as she leaned against the kitchen island as she faced off the three men before her.

Spike and Angel gradually pulled themselves off the floor as they stood before her like two wet dogs. As that thought crossed her mind, Spike shook his head violently as his bleached locks dispelled water throughout the kitchen. With a slight smirk, she stared at the two vamps. Buffy wanted to get them each man a towel, but she knew that once she left the room, only one person would have remained standing when she returned. “They’ll just have to deal.” Buffy inwardly thought.

Buffy started to explain what she and Spike had talked about in her room. She could sense Spike’s desire increase, since she knew that his thoughts were about what else was said and done in her room. Buffy noticed both Xander’s and Angel’s discomfort as they thought the same thing as Spike.

“That’s what we have so far, revenge or ritual. My money is on both. Now who would be cunning and resourceful enough to plan a kidnapping?” Buffy asked.

As Buffy saw Xander’s eyes wander over to his vampire counterparts, with an accusatory stare, she responded.

“No Xander, it wasn’t either of them. So let’s focus on something that is actually a possibility,” Buffy scoffed.

“Buffy, I know you’re all into Dead boy and Dead boy Jr. but the fact remains that they are vamps. Or are we forgetting that little tidbit?” Xander asked with bite in his voice.
Angel growled as he moved forward to put Xander ‘back into his place’ again. Spike extended his arm to stop Angel’s forward motion, as he spoke.

“Angel, even though you are pissed, whelp does have a point. Strategies and kidnapping plans are not for young vamps. They’re more into the dine and ditch. So who besides you and I are master vamps?” Spike asked, as a giant cartoon light bulb beamed.

“Drusilla,” The trio of Angel, Spike’s and Buffy’s voices, intertwined upon their realization.

“Isn’t that Spike’s crazy girlfriend?” Xander asked. Spike growled slightly as Angel began to speak.

“Of course, it makes sense. Well, as much as she ever did. She must have taken Willow to punish both of you for becoming mated. Dru was always for torture and chaos over the kill,” Angel explained.

“She learned all that from her ‘daddy’. Didn’t she Angelus?” Spike growled. Angel’s demon roared forward as Spike responded in kind. Buffy quickly dispensed her own brand of justice, as she doused the two with water again. As the water cascaded over their heads, their demons retreated.

“So we know who has Willow. The why, I don’t really care. Xander, I want you to contact Giles. Tell him we will meet him at his house after we rescue Willow. Who knows what she has experienced, and he’s the best to handle any situation. Spike and Angel gear up and let's save Willow from that crazy bitch!" Buffy roared as her eyes flashed gold, fangs descended.

Both Angel and Xander started to execute Buffy’s commands. Spike stood in the middle of the kitchen, arms crossed against his chest, his face-hardened. Buffy approached him as the other two left the room.

“What is with the look? And the pissy-ness vibes you’re sending me?” Buffy growled.

“I already told you Slayer, Dru is not to be harmed in any way!” Spike roared as his demon visage slid forward. Angel immediately ran forward, his demon firmly in place as he heard Spike’s growl. Buffy held up her hand to ward off his intrusion as she responded.

“Spike, I know you love her, just as I love Angel. Neither of us has shown them lately with this claim between us. However, the fact remains, that she had kidnapped my best friend. For reasons, I don’t know, and frankly I don’t care. Now I’ve promised you that I would not hurt her. I gave you my word. Understand this, if she has harmed Willow in any way, she will meet the pointy end of my stake, no questions asked. At that point if you chose to avenge her death, then so be it. I need you to show us where Dru is hiding Willow. If you choose to fight, whether it is with or against her that is again, your choice. Just know that your actions will trigger my reactions, whatever, they may be,” Buffy explained.

Spike looked at the tiny warrior before him. His unbeating heart swelled with pride and respect for her. Without a second thought, he responded.

“Alright Slayer, I will show you where Dru is hiding. Don’t rightly know what side I’ll be fightin’ on. Just know this, I won’t be sneaky. If I’m on her side, you’ll know. I owe you that much,” Spike agreed.

“Good, now that’s settled let’s get a move on,” Buffy stated as she passed both men as she headed upstairs for her weapons.

Angel was stunned at Buffy’s admission to Spike. He was elated that even though there was a mating claim, between the two, that her heart still belonged to him. As Spike passed Angel in the kitchen’s doorway, as he headed towards the stairs to her bedroom, he quietly growled.

“You may have her heart, but I have her blood and her body. I have a far better deal. Don’t ya think?” With a devilish glint in his eyes and a cruel twist of his lips, Spike ascended the stairs towards Buffy. As Spike left a stunned Angel behind.

Less than ten minutes later the trio was headed toward their destination, the warehouse, Spike’s once home. Despite the lack of words, their communication was clear; Spike and Angel despised one another and Buffy was utterly confused.

Her heart belonged to one, where her body and soul belonged to the other. Each day, the tag team of her body and soul broke down her heart’s defenses. Every moment with Spike brought millions of questions and doubts swirling in her mind. All these thoughts made all and no sense at the same time.

Buffy’s was pulled from her thoughts as she heard Angel’s growl.

“Buffy, how do you know we can trust him? You may be mated, but his heart does, and always will belong to Drusilla. All his helpfulness, could be a ruse, which will lead to an ambush!”

Buffy stopped briefly and turned to face Angel, who was only several paces behind, her and Spike.

“Angel. I know that you don’t trust him, and believe me, it’s hard to comprehend that I even do. The fact remains that we are connected. On some strange, scary level, we are. This connection becomes more entrenched when we….ummm….feed,” Buffy explained as she noticed Angel’s demon flash forward briefly then recede. She then continued.

“I can feel his emotions and his feelings, his thoughts. I’m like his human, well kinda, lie detector. He’s not lying. He will take us to Drusilla. This I know. What he will do when we get there, he’s unsure,” Buffy stated as she faced Spike.

“Oi….standing right here!” Spike snapped.

“Sorry, just know this Spike, whichever side you choose, your decision will be final. There’s no way that you can betray either of us and then change your mind.”

“Slayer, I know this and I’m prepared to deal with whatever the fall out happens to be. Despite my being a vamp, I do give you my word that if I decide to go back to Dru, you will know this by my words. It won’t be a knife in your proverbial back to say so,” Spike explained with a slight nod.

“Now peaches, can we get a move on before Dru finishes whatever, she took Red for?” With that Spike turned and continued to walk in the direction of the warehouse. Angel looked at Buffy with a ‘you believe him?’ look. Buffy shook her head solemnly ‘yes’ and proceeded to follow Spike. With a deep sigh, Angel relented.

Within another mile, Spike stopped and pointed to an abandoned building in the distance, before he spoke.

“That’s where we were. Now I’m not guaranteeing that she’s still there. I haven’t seen her for several days. Knowing Dru like I do, she was probably too busy listening to fairies and whatnot to leave and find another place. Well, kiddies, it’s been real. Real what, I won’t say, but…..Ta.” Spike gave a British two-finger salute to Angel, as he headed off into another direction. Not towards the warehouse, but not back towards Buffy’s house either.

Buffy’s heart slightly sank as she watched her mate walk away. As she turned to leave, Angel growled.

“She’s your mate! You send her off to fight a battle, to possibly be wounded or worse and all you can do is walk away? You’re pathetic Spike!” Lightning-quick, Spike had tackled Angel to the ground, in full demon visage. As his golden eyes stared at his grandsire, he roared.

“I’ve decided to choose a side, my own! Tell me oh soulful one, how did you think this would play out? I would run into the arms of my lover, my world for over a hundred years and hurt my mate? Or team up with the Slayer, who happens to be my mate, and turn against the only woman I’ve ever loved? Please enlighten me with your pearls of wisdom!” Angel remained beneath Spike as he ranted. Once Spike finished, he jumped off Angel, looked upon Buffy briefly with a slight sadness and regret in his eyes, turned and walked away.

Angel got up from the ground and looked at Buffy. After several brief moments of silence, he spoke.

“You ready to do this?”

“Yeah, let’s save Willow,” Buffy stated as they started to walk toward the building.

While they geared up back at Buffy’s house, Spike explained the layout of the building. He gave full details of where the minions slept, the main room and where Dru’s bedroom was.

Spike also demanded that Buffy promise that Drusilla was to remain unharmed or there was ‘no deal’. Buffy gave her promised, with the addition of ‘If Willow is hurt, all bets are off,’ both agreed before the trio headed out.

Since all the windows were high off the ground, and neither Buffy nor Angel could reach them, they decided to head to the roof. As they quietly walked across the rooftop, Angel spied a small skylight. Both peeked into the dirty window, and what lay before them shocked them to the core.

In addition to the numerous minions milling about, chained against the walls were several people. Eleven total. Men and woman in different stages of disarray; all bloodied, some in stages of undress. Some still sobbed, while others, eyes wide, unseeing. Their blank stares told of the horrific memories that rolled through their minds.

“Angel, why…..why are all these people here?” Buffy whispered.

“Can’t say for sure, but maybe they’re for a sacrifice or some sort of ritual?” Angel whispered back.

“I hate saying this, but that makes sense. In a really fucked up way. Then where’s Willow? She’s not down there. Which is of the very good, but on the other hand, not so much. Where is that crazy bitch keeping her?” Buffy whispered angrily.

In the deep bowels of the warehouse, Willow sat chained tightly to a high back wooden chair. The last thing she remembered was being dragged away from Xander, by someone, which she now knew was a vamp. He hoisted her over his shoulder as she tried to fight him off the best she could. Then one of his vamp pals started to remove bits of her clothing, jacket, shoes, socks, then came nothing. Only blackness. When she awoke after the vamp attack, this is where she was.

Willow tried to gather in her surroundings, but with the chains around her ankles and wrists, and the height of the chair, she wasn’t able to see much. What she could see was a long wooden table before her; that was covered with lit candles, a medium size glass container and some magical supplies; dried herbs, small bowl and a large dusty old book. Before Willow could try to make sense of any of this, her thoughts were pulled from her by the purr of a woman.

“Ah….I see the little tree is abloom. Fairies are buzzing with sheer delight from your arrival! They sing about all that is wrong will be made right again. I can hardly wait,” Drusilla purred as she slithered into Willow’s line of vision. Willow’s eyes widened at the graceful, yet she could sense, a very dangerous woman that stood before her.

“Whhhoo…who are you?” Willow stuttered.

“Tsk, Tsk, naughty Spike didn’t talk about me! He shall be punished again for that!” Drusilla hissed to Willow.

“Are you, are you, Drusilla?” Willow asked

“So that naughty boy spoke of his dear heart? You are a smart one little tree. Miss Edith whispered to me that you could free those in chains with your words and mind. Miss Edith shall receive tea and cakes when the real party begins. What a party it will be once…..” Drusilla ranted until her head cocked to the side, looked upwards, and a feral grin graced her crimson lips.

“The time to begin is upon us!” Drusilla clapped happily as she bolted from the room. Willow watched her leave, as far as her immobilized body would allow. Willow tried to pull at her bonds as she tried to escape from this lunatic and her asylum, to no avail.

As the duo warriors made their way down the building, they had worked out a plan of attack. They would enter the building by the darkened side door and start hacking away at any and all minions that appeared. Once the vamps were dispatched, Angel would cover Buffy as she tried to search for Willow. Before they moved, Buffy placed a chaste kiss upon Angel’s lips and told him good luck.

On the count of three, they kicked down the metal door, stakes and crossbows a blazing. Within moments, minion’s dust coated their bodies and hung in the dense, stale air. Cries of those that were held captive rang through the cavernous room. Some ‘thanked God’ for them, others begged for their release. Despite their pleas, Buffy and Angel continued to dispatch a major ass kicking on the undead.


“Now little witch, you are going to grant princess her wish. You are going to do a spell that will make all right as rain,” Drusilla cooed as she now held a young woman by the throat, as they stood in Willow’s line of sight. The woman’s brown eyes were wide and pleading for help, though her mouth remained closed. Tears tracked through the dirt that was coated upon her cheeks.

“I’m…..I’m not a www…..witch,” Willow stuttered.

“Now, now. Don’t lie. I would cut out your tongue, but it still serves a purpose. So here’s her tongue instead!” Drusilla cackled as she threw the woman’s severed tongue upon the table. The bloody stump hit with a resounding ‘thump’. Bile rose into Willow’s throat at the sight before her.

“Now naughty witch, you will do my spell for me!” Drusilla commanded as her once porcelain features shifted into her demon ones.

“I swear! I’m not a witch! I can only float pencils and other things like that! I can’t do a spell! Please, please, let us go,” Willow pleaded.

“Since you asked like that……” With that remark, Drusilla dragged her sharp talons across the woman’s throat.

Her chocolate eyes widened as her life’s blood flowed from the gash. Drusilla released the woman, as her body hit the floor with a deadened ‘thud.’ With a double clap of her hands, a minion pulled forward, another woman, and replaced her in Drusilla’s arms, where the now dead one once stood.

“So witch, can you do it now?” Drusilla growled as she tapped her bloodied nails against the new woman’s neck.

“Yes….I’ll try.” Willow whispered.

A mile away Spike continued to pace back and forth, in front of a local demon bar. He planned on entering, and not leaving until he was good and smashed. Once he reached the alleyway, a feeling of horror filled him to the core. Spike knew it was Buffy, that felt this horror, but it receded and only white-hot rage took its place.

Since her rage took center stage, Spike now had an almost painful erection from the thoughts of his mate tearing down her opponents. Her eyes filled with fury, arms and legs moving with deadly accuracy as they choreographed a death dance. In his mind’s eye, she was breathtaking.

His demon roared with fury, that he was not there to aid her and for not witnessing this brutal dance. Spike knew that he should be there to fight alongside his mate, not the poufter Angel. His heart, on the other hand, well he was conflicted there too. With his very being he loved his dark princess. His savior from mediocrity. They had cut a swath through the world, feeding and fucking whenever and upon whomever they desired.

All changed Halloween night. When a tiny warrior, wormed her way into his once occupied heart. Now he remained conflicted between his past and present. A dangerous limbo of loyalties and desires, where a choice, that needed to be made, would seal his fate forever.

“Damn it!” Spike yelled as he stalked back towards the warehouse.


When the final swirl of vamp remains settled, Buffy searched for a key or keys that would free these people. As she rummaged through draws and small rooms, she noticed two other sets of chains that hung unoccupied on the wall. She knew that these people were probably dead, and if it weren’t for her promise to Spike, Drusilla would be dust in the wind like her minions. After several moments, she found the numerous sets of keys. Buffy ran out to Angel, as he tried to sooth the victims with his words, and tossed him all that she had found.

“Angel get them out of here! I’m going to find Willow. Follow me when you’re done!” Buffy yelled as she headed towards the stairwell that lead to the basement of the warehouse.

After Willow relented, Drusilla threw the woman that she held moments ago, to the minion that had brought her in. Drusilla stepped forward and opened the ancient text in front of her. Scrawled on the yellow parchment were words written in another language.

“This is not English. I can’t read it. The only other language I know is French and this is so not that,” Willow explained as she eyed the pages.

“Silly, silly little witch! It’s Latin! When I was a child, everyone knew and could speak Latin! Terrible state of affairs this age has brought! You don’t need to understand, just read! Make haste witch, or those words you just spoke will be your last!” Drusilla snarled as she wiggled her blood stained fingers towards Willow. Drusilla lit a bundle of herbs as she slowly began to wave them through the air. With a gulp, Willow started to read from the text.



“Nici mort, nici al fiintei..."
{ Translation: Neither dead, nor of the living...}

“Nici mort….. nici al finite. Abyssus spiritus, te advoco."

{Translation Not dead... nor not of the living. Spirits of hell,
I call.}

"Te implor, bestia os abyssus, nu ignora aceasta rugaminte."

{Translation: I implore you, beast of the hellmouth, do not ignore this request.}

"Nici mort, nici al fiintei..."

{Translation: Neither dead, nor of the living...}”




The words filled Willow’s mind as she read from the pages. At first they seemed difficult, her tongue becoming jumbled in her mouth, as they twisted over the words. Then she felt her body fill with an unmistaken power. Her head snapped back, and just as quickly lowered forward. With blackened eyes, the words started to tumble from her mouth. All the sounds of the outside world disappeared. All that remained was the sound of her blood rushing in her ears, and the hum of the overwhelming power pulsing through her veins.

As Buffy cautiously walked down the stairs, she could hear someone chanting, in the distance. As she approached the room, two minions jumped out and tackled her to the ground. As her head hit the concrete floor, stars bloomed before her eyes. The edges of her consciousness became hazy as she was dragged down the hallway by two vamps.

As the blood slowly seeped down the back of her neck, she could feel her demon as it tore at her mind. Her guise shifted as fangs elongated and eyes became golden. She was first dragged up several steps, then her arms were yanked above her, and she heard a distinct clink of chains.

As she willed her head up, the site of her demon took the minions aback. Both hurriedly left from the room and headed back down the stairs. Despite the pounding in her brain, Buffy could hear the distance chants from downstairs. She tried to pull herself from her chains to no avail. Buffy called out to Angel, which she could also hear several rooms over.

“Angel, bring the keys here! Hurry!” Buffy yelled.

Angel had only been able to release five of the eleven people due to the keys that Buffy found didn’t fit all the locks. He looked upon the other people who continued to plea for their release. With a soft ‘sorry’ to those that were left, Angel left the room in search of Buffy.


Eyes black as night, Willow’s words ripped from her throat as she continued the incantation.



“Lasa orca sa fie vasul care-i va extraho, amimus de eum."

{Translation: Let this jar be the vessel that will remove his soul from

he.}

"Asa sa fie! Asa sa fie! Acum!"

{Translation: So it shall be! So it shall be! Now!}

"Acum!"

{Translation: Now!}



In mid-stride, Angel fell upon the floor, on his hands and knees. “Buffy” tore from his throat as pain exploded throughout his body. After several deep, but unneeded breaths, Angel removed himself smoothly from the floor. As he looked around his surroundings, a loud growl filled the air.

“Honey, Daddy’s home!”

Angelus’ demon slid forward as he could smell the heady scent of blood, more importantly Slayer’s blood. With a cheerful whistle he strolled forward, as he swung one of the key rings around his fingers. He entered the room where Buffy was chained to the wall. Once she looked into his eyes, she smiled and stated.

“Oh thank god you’re here! Hurry, I think that Drusilla has Willow downstairs. With the chanting, it can’t be for anything good!” Buffy stated as her demon slowly slid away. Angelus mirrored Buffy, as his demon also fell away.


“Hello, Buff. Now how did you get yourself is such a predicament?” Angelus purred as he eyed her trestle up form.

“Bloody minions jumped me downstairs. I was too busy listening to the chants, and I didn’t hear them until I was already on the floor,” Buffy said shamefully as she shook her arms to remind him what he was called in here to do.

“Bloody huh? Well, you sure do look all bloody. Can I tell you, that you smell absolutely divine. Well, besides the nauseating stench of Ol’Willie-boy coursing through your veins. No matter, taking my childe’s mate will be one of the highlights of the night. Little Buff, I do mean to fully take you. I don’t particularly like leftovers, but since I had Dru first, I guess turnabout is fair play,” Angelus sneered as he stepped closer.

“Angel what the fuck has gotten into you?” Buffy snapped as her demon sprang forward.

“The better question is, what is getting into you?” Angelus purred as he crudely grabbed his now noticeable erection through his pants, as he stopped in front of Buffy’s suspended form.

As he looked upon her with lust-filled eyes, Buffy felt dread fill her soul deep. Angelus grabbed her hair roughly as he looked upon the column of her throat where Spike’s marks were housed. He pressed his entire body against her intimately. She could feel his erection nudge into her abdomen. Angelus growled deeply in his chest as his mouth moved and lingered by the shell of her ear. Several beats passed before he spoke.

“I know that you believed that only your Watcher could break the claim without killing you both. There is another way, the more traditional, vampire way. The only true way. A master vampire, more specifically his sire, could challenge the claim. Sure ol’Willie would put up a fight, and against Angel, he may have won. However, not against…..me!” Angelus growled as his head reared back, fangs flashing.

The moment, the words sunk into her mind, Buffy’s golden eyes widened. There had been a strange feeling she had since Angel had walked into the room. She shook it off due to what was and had transpired all around them.

With these words, she understood, this was no longer Angel. This was Angelus. Due to their position, she couldn’t move. With resignation, she waited for the final strike. In an instant, Angelus’ form was gone. Buffy, once more, could move her head and body, well what wasn’t held by chains, as she witnessed what was transpiring.

Spike and Angelus were trading blows of fists and fangs as they moved over one another’s bodies. All she could hear was Angelus’ laughter and taunts. Spike’s growls and proclaims of ‘she’s mine!’ Buffy became briefly entranced at the sight before her. Quickly, she shook her head to clear the cobwebs and started to pull upon the chains that shackled her. After several Slayer/vamp combined yanks, she pulled one part of the chains free. She started then on the other side with a newfound strength.

Drusilla heard the call of her ‘daddy’ as he announced his arrival home. She also sensed another, Spike. “Her Spike.” Drusilla’s mind cooed. As her eyes widened, she saw in her mind’s eye, her ‘daddy’ and her black knight fighting over the Slayer whore.

A piercing screamed filled the room, as Willow laid limp in her restraints. Drusilla removed Willow’s chains as she grabbed her by the hair and dragged her from the room. As Drusilla’s mind reeled from the horrid thoughts that they were not fighting over her, she wanted to hurt the Slayer soul deep.

Despite how drained Willow physically was, her legs kept up with Drusilla as she dragged her up the stairs. Willow could feel several clumps of hair being pulled from the roots, as small streams of blood flow from the areas, but she remained silent and kept pace.

Once Drusilla reached the room, she called out with almost a wounded voice.

“Daddy?” Buffy looked over to the doorway as she saw Drusilla standing there with a fist full of Willow’s hair in her grasp.

As her voice filled the room, both men stopped. Each remained still with their chests heaving with unneeded breaths. As Spike rolled off Angelus, both vamps slowly gained their footing as they separated. Angelus backed towards Drusilla, as Spike’s back hovered against the wall as he made his way slowly over to Buffy.

As the pairs stared at one another, an arrow, shot passed Drusilla’s head and struck the wall behind her. As four sets of eyes followed the path of the arrow, Giles stood in the doorway with the crossbow at the ready, another arrow in place.

Without a word, a flurry of movement proceeded. Drusilla held Willow’s body in front of her to make a human shield, as Angelus ran behind her to hurry down the stairs. This crazy woman held all in a stalemate. Spike wouldn’t attack Drusilla due to his feelings, Buffy remained still partially shackled, and Giles held his arrow due to Willow’s body shielding Drusilla’s.

With a brief whistle from Angelus, Drusilla threw Willow’s body forward towards Giles. As her limp body collided with his, Drusilla gave a brief sneer towards Buffy and Spike, and then she raced down the stairs where Angelus had just disappeared. A loud slam of a heavy metal door announced their departure.

Spike helped pull the remaining chain from the wall as Buffy thanked him briefly. Once freed, she ran towards Willow and Giles. Buffy gently pulled her friend from Giles’ body. Willow looked up at Buffy and murmured.

“I’m sorry.” With that Buffy pulled her into a brief bone-crushing hug.

As the group slowly moved from the room, Xander had finished releasing the remaining people. Once their chains were gone, they all fled into the night. Xander looked upon the weakened Willow held up by Buffy’s body, he ran forward and hugged her fiercely.

“Don’t you ever get kidnapped again! Do you understand!” Xander ordered as tears flowed from his eyes.

“Yeah, I need to get a tee shirt that says ‘Kidnapped: Been there done that,’” Willow joked slightly.

“Buffy, why did Angel leave with, whom I assume is, Drusilla?” Giles asked.

“Watcher, that’s not Angel, not anymore. You’ve just met Angelus. Now that’s a logo on a tee shirt you all should get, ‘Angelus: see him and lived to tell the tale.’” Spike scoffed as he walked over to lean against the wall.

After the group hug, Xander aided Buffy out of the remains of her chains. As she ran her hands over her sore wrists, she spoke.

“Angelus is here, but how? Why?” Buffy asked.

“The how, was me. Drusilla made me read a spell and remove his soul. I didn’t want to Buffy!” Willow started to sob. Buffy pulled Willow into her arms again as she tried to calm her distraught friend. After several moments, she pulled from her arms and stated.

“Willow it’s not your fault. At this point in time, it doesn’t matter how Angel became Angelus. All I know is that we need to find him and Drusilla before they cause more death and destruction to Sunnydale.” Buffy firmly stated.

“This all takes planning. First things first, let’s leave this horrendous place. We all need our rest. Tomorrow we will convene to discuss strategy,” Giles stated.

“I’m with G-man. Let’s blow this pop stand!” Xander stated as he placed Willow’s arm around his shoulders as his arm wrapped his around her waist. Giles, Willow and Xander exited the building cautiously, still on the lookout for the deadly duo. Before they exited, Giles turned and addressed Buffy.

“Do you need a ride home Buffy?” Buffy looked over to the uncharacteristically quiet Spike, looked into his cerulean depths, then turned back to Giles to respond.

“No, I’m alright. Spike and I will be leaving shortly. But before you go, I am in no way, shape or form, ungrateful, but how did you find where we were?” Buffy asked, curiosity lacing her words.

“Small locator spell. I used an item of Willow’s clothing and found out where you were.” With that Giles left with Willow and Xander.

Buffy slowly approached Spike as his eyes remained trained on her. Both felt a sense of apprehension. Buffy spoke first.

“Spike, thanks for coming to my rescue. I know that it wasn’t an easy decision…” Before she could finish her sentence, Spike’s mouth crashed upon hers as he fed from her lips like a man starved. One hand wrapped through her flaxen locks as the other rested on her lower back, as he pulled her body forcefully into his. After several moments of enjoying one another, Spike reluctantly pulled back from her to speak.

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again! Do you understand?! If I knew what Drusilla had planned, and that she was bringing Angelus back for a reunion tour, I would have never left your side! I was such a bleeding pillock. I’m your mate, I don’t know all that it exactly entails, but I do know this, you are mine. Mine to worship and mine to protect!”

With that Spike’s demon roared forward as he sensually slid his fangs into Buffy’s neck. After several heady pulls of her blood, he removed his fangs as he declared.

“Mine!” Then Spike’s fangs immediately returned to her throat. Buffy’s eyes rolled as the immense pleasure reeled throughout her body. Without thought Buffy wrapped her hands into Spike’s bleached locks as she held him to her neck, as she announced.

“Yours!” Spike retracted his fangs as he placed several tender swipes of his talented tongue upon his marks. Buffy’s purred as she melted into his arms.

Spike then gently scooped her up. As she placed her head upon his shoulder, he carried her out of the den of horrors.

Despite his muscular body’s promises of unbridled pleasure and sin, Buffy couldn’t contain her body’s announcement of its weariness, with a yawn. His body lulled her to the edge of consciousness, as he carried her to her house. Spike’s purrs and deep baritone chuckle that followed her untimely yawn pulled her into a deep peaceful sleep.

Buffy awoke slightly disorientated, with her cheek pressed against a silky yet firm object, which jostled once her eyes opened. As she shook the sweet oblivion of sleep from her mind, Buffy realized that she was tucked safely in bed, with a life-sized, body shape pillow, she clasped with her entire body. “Mmmmm….Spike.” Buffy’s mind purred.

Buffy noticed, as she stirred slightly from his form, that he was completely and utterly….naked. Upon further realization, she was also sans clothing. “Exactly why am I naked?” Buffy inwardly asked herself.

“Cuz, no thread in the world is fitting to grace your magnificent body, that’s why.” Spike purred as he ran his fingertips slowly down her spine. Her nipples pebbled instantly, as soft mews of pleasure spilled from her lips during his tender ministrations. After several moments Buffy questioned in a hushed and slightly stunned voice.

“I didn’t say that aloud, did I?”

Spike was stunned into silence by her question. He pondered her questions briefly than reciprocated a reply.

“Don’t rightly believe you did.”

Buffy sat up to look upon the man that shared her bed. She clasped the blankets to her breasts as she beheld him. Even though there was no light filling the room, not even moonlight, its beams held at bay by the drawn curtains, adorned with additional heavy blankets, Buffy could clearly see his azure gaze studying her.

“What does this exactly mean? This mind reading thing?” Buffy whispered as fear of the unknown filled her.

Waves of uncertainty and fear rolled into his mind and throughout his body, as he sensed her overwhelming feelings. Without a word, Spike pulled her back into the safety of his arms, as he cooed words of comfort. Spike tenderly ran his skillful hands soothingly over her flaxen hair.

The lovers lay intertwined for endless minutes as they enjoyed the feeling of one another surrounding them. In spite of the hundred plus years between them, this was a first, for both of them, to enjoy the simple pleasure of their lover's flesh without sex. Suddenly, Buffy placed a playful slap to Spike’s chest, as she was bombarded with naughty thoughts of ‘activities’ that Spike wanted to perform on or with her.

“What? Can’t rightly expect me to lie here with my irresistible mate, naked, in this bed, and expect me not to think those things!” Spike jested.

A moment later Spike added. “Now Slayer, if you want to do ‘that’ there’s no need to think it….just do it,” Spike purred as he pulled her pliable form up his body.

A pleasure-filled moan escaped her lips, as her dampened core ran over his hip. Spike inhaled her moans as his mouth greedily plundered hers. Deep purrs sounded from his chest as her essence coated his tongue and traveled down his throat, spun sugar, sheer power and his long-lost sun. She burned his mouth with her fiery kisses.

Without breaking contact from his demanding mouth, Buffy shifted and straddled his waist. Her sodden core rubbed tediously over his engorged cock, without entrance. Several mindless moments passed as the lovers continued to feast upon one another. Their hands never stilled, as they searched one another’s bodies hungrily.

Buffy’s mouth disengaged from his first, as she trailed hot open mouth kisses and small nips upon the sensitive column of his throat. A moan of sheer bliss tumbled from his swollen lips as her blunt teeth latched briefly to her marks. Without warning, Buffy’s demon emerged and her two razor-sharp fangs sank into his neck. She drew two heady mouthfuls of his heavenly blood, before she extracted her fangs and declared.

“Mine!” Within moments, her fangs resumed their place in his throat. Spike’s back arched as his cock searched for more friction. Buffy moaned as she felt his erection, impressively increase two fold, as it rubbed against her dampen folds.

After two deeper pulls, Spike responded.

“Yours!”

One last draw traveled sweetly down her throat, as she retracted her fangs and lapped her raspy tongue over the punctures. Buffy’s demon purred as his blood sang through her veins, as their connection strengthened a little more. Her demon then receded as she resumed her trek down the column of his throat, toward his chest. Spike’s hand fisted in the bed sheets, as he allowed Buffy’s leisurely pace over his flesh. She lavished attention to his muscular chest, especially his responsive nipples.

They pebbled as her teeth and tongue worked at the once flattened discs, until they were twinning peaks. Buffy wasn’t aware that a man could be as responsive to having his nipple attended to, until his sheer ecstasy filled her mind and his growls filled the room from her ministrations.

Endless moments passed, as Buffy moved her greedy mouth southwards. She ran her eager tongue and blunt teeth over the expanse of his well-defined six-pack abs. Spike’s hands ripped the cotton sheets as he tried to maintain some semblance of control. His mind knew that despite how fierily his mate was, she was still young. Both age wise and in all areas of sex and the like. Despite how his demon and lust-riddled body screamed for him to ‘take her’, he wanted to give her the opportunity to explore his body and the delight of bestowing pleasure upon him.

As Buffy drew the thin sheet from his hips, the sound of his gasp echoed throughout the room. Spike’s half-mast, darkened gaze watched her as he witnessed her reaction to his. The combination of the fabric sliding across his intensely sensitive member and how she thoroughly licked her full bee-stung lips as she revealed his cock to her lust-filled eyes, made Spike’s mind short-circuit with lust.

Buffy’s hands rested on his upper thighs as she studied his sculptured from. Everything had her in awe. The muscular, yet lean expanse of his chest, his rippled abdomen, his almost perfect alabaster skin covered his beautiful form. As her eyes continued to search and study, her gaze rested upon one of his greatest bodily assets, next to his expressive gorgeous eyes, his impressive erection. Even though they had been together twice, she never examined him or any other man this way. A loud fierce growl broke her thoughts.

“And no other man, starkers or not, will you look upon in this way,” Spike demanded.

“Never, only you,” Buffy whispered as her heated gaze moved from his body to his hardened, yet hazy stare.

Her gaze held his, as she leaned slowly forward and placed a tentative stroke of her tongue across the belled head of his erection. Spike’s eyes slammed shut, as his back arched off the bed. His lust blasted her kneeling form, as she felt her nipples hardened and her folds dampened further.

Becoming slightly bolder, Buffy ran her tongue from the base of his cock to the tip. Her tongue flickered upon the slit that was now seeping with his dead seed. Once her muscle lapped the fluid, she brought it back into the recesses of her mouth. As his essence rolled throughout her mouth, her mind flashed with his silent pleas. “More…please more!” His mind chanted.

“What? More of this?” Buffy cooed as she placed her mouth over the now purplish head.

“Gah…!” Was Spike’s only response.

“I don’t really speak Spikese fluently, but I’ll take that as a yes,” Buffy purred as her small hand gently gripped the base of his cock. Her mouth returned to its previous position at the top of his impressive erection. As she held him in her grasp, she ran her tongue entirely over the flesh-encased steel.

Spike’s mind whirled. He could sense her apprehension, which he believed due to her being a virgin when he sullied her virtue. Regardless of this, the heat of her mouth, the lust and desire that blossomed from her body and mind, and how she just instinctually knew how to touch him, made him ready to burst at the seams like a school boy. Spike wanted, no needed, to put his hands on her head, as she worked at his cock, but he was afraid that he would scare her away. A moment later her sweet mouth left his erection and her deep lusty voice rang out.

“Spike, touch me,” Buffy pleaded. Spike’s hand plunged into her golden locks as her mouth returned to his screaming flesh. Buffy’s movements became bolder, as her lips wrapped around the tip of his cock. Tentatively, her mouth slid slowly down his erection. Due to his sheer size, her mouth could not reach the bottom. What she could not encase with her mouth, her hand covered.

Spike murmured words of pleasure and encouragement as she worked at his member with a newfound confidence. When the pressure of her sucks became tighter, her fist tightened and then twisted as her mouth descended and ascended. Spike’s fist tightened in her tresses, as pleasure consumed his mind and actions. Her pace increased as she felt a sense of womanly pride bloom from within, as she caused this man, this master vampire, her mate, to a quivering mass of flesh and bone.

“That’s it sweetheart. Your mouth…the heat…it’s burning me alive. Uhhh…I can’t last much longer. You may want...uhhh…want to move….bbb…before I blow…” Spike muttered as his hips began to slowly roll under her mouth. Buffy didn’t relent. She wanted to taste the very essence of her mate. Not only his blood, but also his seed to fill her mouth and throat; she wanted it all.

Spike was hovering on the brink of sweet oblivion as Buffy continued her tortuous, but pleasurable ministrations. When Buffy’s unoccupied hand cupped his heavy weight of his testicles, Spike fell over the brink of the abyss. His dead seed shot forward as a roar tore from his throat. Despite the intensity of his orgasm, Buffy slightly slowed, but continued her ministrations upon his cock.

Spike’s hips slowed then stopped, as the grip in her hair lessened. Buffy removed her mouth from his slightly softening cock as she then placed several slow, languid licks over the head to capture any residual spendings. Several moments passed as Buffy sat back and regarded the spent man before her. Her hand slowly stroked his thigh as her eyes drank in his form.

His chest rose and fell in quick pants. Lids covering his amazing cerulean eyes, mouth slack as his lips murmured words that she could not hear. Within the silence, Buffy started to question if she had done it right. Within a moment, one of Spike’s eyes opened as he looked at her questioning face.

“You’re bloody kiddin’ right? If it was anymore perfect, I would have dusted,” Spike panted with unneeded breath.

“So, I did it right?” Buffy whispered with hesitation. Lightning-quick, Buffy was pinned under him as his azure gaze focused on hers.

“Beyond right; bloody perfect! You’re amazing Buffy, the way you bring me to my knees with a look. You’ve bewitched me. Even if your bloody Watcher breaks this claim, I don’t think I could ever be without you,” Spike declared.

Buffy’s eyes became teary at his admission. Spike placed his hand upon her cheek as he kissed her thoroughly. The wail of Joyce’s alarm broke the lovers from their thoughts and each other’s bodies. Moments later, they both heard Buffy’s mom walking toward her room.

“Buffy, it’s time to get up. You promised to help me at the gallery. Let’s go sleepy head!” Joyce called in a sing-song voice. All that signaled that Spike was in the room was the slowly and quietly closing closet door. Quickly, Buffy covered her naked form as she lay back down to pretend she was still asleep. Two rapid knocks, announced Joyce’s presence as she entered Buffy’s room.

“Buffy? Are you up?” Joyce called as she entered into the room. Joyce noticed Buffy’s clothes strewn around her bedroom. As she began to pick up all the wayward clothing, she tsked at the mess.

“God Buffy, I swear. You can be such a slob. When’s the last time you picked up? There are jackets, shirts and pants all over the place?” Joyce huffed. Buffy sat up quickly as she regarded her mother. At the last moment, she held the sheet to cover her naked breasts.

“Mom, please leave the mess. It’s mine, I’ll take care of it,” Buffy suggested as her eyes widened. In her mother’s grasp was Spike’s black tee shirt and socks. As Buffy’s eyes wandered around the room, she didn’t see his black trench, boots or pants. She prayed to whomever, that he had them in her closet.

“Well, I have a load to do before we leave. Get up, it’s time to go,” Joyce ordered. Joyce pointed over to the windows as she spoke again. “The light’s still is bothering you?”

“Yeah. My eyes are still a little wonky,” Buffy responded, as said eyes widened at her response.

“Wonky? What does that mean? I may sound like an old lady, but you kids these days come up with the strangest terms,” Joyce stated as she headed towards the door. Before she left, she turned and stated. “Buffy, you have fifteen minutes.” With that the door closed.

A small snicker came from the closet as Buffy stood, quickly locked her door and headed over to Spike’s hiding place. She opened the door and stared down at the chuckling man.

“I don’t really find this funny!” Buffy harshly whispered. Her words had lost their meaning as a small smile graced her lips. That and she was bare ass naked standing there.

“You’re tellin’ me? I’m over one hundred years old, and I’m hiding out in a girl’s closet! Like some pimply-faced whelp!” Spike retorted as he stood releasing his boots, leather trench and shoes from his grasp. As he reached his full height, Buffy noticed that his cock was at full attention. Her eyes widened, as her body reacted to him. Her nipples peaked into rosy-tips and renewed desire dampened her folds as she stared at the beautiful man before her.

Spike stalked out from the closet and pulled her quivering form to him. A slight puff of air dispelled from her lungs from the impact of his muscular chest. Buffy was unable to catch her breath, as his hungry mouth plundered hers. As their mouths fused, a battle was waged between their mouths, tongues and teeth. Only Joyce’s voice filling her sensitive ears broke her from him. “Buffy, ten more minutes!”

As they pulled apart, their chests mirrored one another as they both panted for air and control over their lust-filled bodies and minds. Dual pairs of blackened eyes studied one another, as each awaited the other’s move. Buffy shook her head slightly before she spoke.

“Spike, please, I need…I can’t…” Buffy murmured as her body hummed with desire.

Spike’s eyes closed briefly as his mate’s needs surrounded his mind. As Spike lunged for her, she moved. He landed ungracefully on the bed. He turned and growled for his mate’s obedience. Spike sprang from the bed and stood before his mate’s form. Buffy chuckled as her eyebrow quirked, as his feelings of lust and agitation reached her. Spike tried to order her with his mind to come to him, but she did not heed. His demon sprang forward at this denial.

“Buffy, do not deny me,” Spike growled. Buffy's demon sprang forward in response to his.

“I can deny you if I choose. Do I need to remind you that you do not own me! I am your mate. I choose if I give my body to you! Do not test me!” Buffy growled back. Spike’s demon receded as he looked upon his enraged mate.

“Sweetheart, please come to me. I need you. Why do you deny my calls to you?” Spike questioned as he slowly stepped forward.

“What calls?” Buffy asked as her demon slowly melted away.

“So you didn’t hear me calling to you with my mind?” Spike asked as he reached her.

He placed his hand tenderly upon her upper arm. Upon contact, her mind was filled with his words. “Sweetheart, I need to be in you. Please don’t be cross. I only want to…” The inner voice was cut short when his hand moved from her upper arm.

“Uh? Maybe we have to be touching for each other’s thoughts to be heard. Well, that sucks. I was kinda hoping to use this during fights. Almost like Luke Skywalker and Obe-wan or some such,” Buffy pouted. Spike’s scarred eyebrow rose from her statement.

“I’m friends with Xander. All that kind of stuff rubs off after a little while,” Buffy responded with a slight shoulder shrug. “Look, let’s get dressed. I’ll try to convince my mom that I have some big test on Monday, and I need to study for. I’ll tell her it’s French. Je suck in French and I’ll tell her Willow is helping me,” Buffy explained.

Spike placed his hand on her cheek, as his mouth gently connected with hers. As the passion ignited between them again, Buffy pulled back with a slight chuckle and spoke.

“I don’t think French kissing would be part of any test Spike.” As his hand remained, she responded again. “Yes and I do know that I passed your tests with flying colors,” Buffy blushed as she pulled his hand from her cheek and placed a chaste kiss to his palm.

The duo quickly got dressed as the time allotted by her mother was coming to a close. Spike entered back into the closet, as Buffy headed downstairs. Spike could hear the women’s conversation. His mate was definitely an Academy Award-winning actress. After a ten-minute conversation, Buffy convinced her mother of her needed studies. Several moments later, her mom called out goodbye and left the home. Her car heading down Revello Drive signified her departure.

Buffy arrived in the room several moments later with a glass of juice and a perplexed expression. Spike was donned only in his black jeans, unbuttoned, slug low on his hips.

“What is it luv?”

“Mom started the darks, so your shirt and socks are in the wash. I’m surprised, she didn’t question me about them. I shouldn’t complain. That is of the good. This must be so weird for you, hiding from my mom and being with me?” Buffy asked with a slight hurt in her voice. Spike immediately pulled her into his arms as he spoke.

“Not goin’ to lie, it is weird. Just less than a month ago I was goin’ about my business, plotting to kill the Slayer. Feeding to my heart’s content, then there’s, Drusilla. Now my world is turned upside down. I’m mated to the Slayer, who is but a young girl in a woman’s body. Hiding in her closet cuz her mom will catch us shagging. Then there’s…..” Buffy pulled from his arms before he could continue. She turned from him as tears formed, and hovered on her lower lids. Spike spun her around as he pulled her into his tightened cage of his chest and arms. As she fought him, he spoke.

“You didn’t let me finish you stubborn bint! Stop fighting me!” Spike snarled as Buffy’s form wiggled from his. As she was trapped in his arms, he moved her forward until her legs hit the mattress. With a slight push, she tumbled, landed on her back, as he landed on top of her. A slight ‘whoosh’ of air dispelled from her lungs from the fall and his body on top of hers.

“Buffy…Buffy! What I was saying was yes this is all crazy and weird and every other word that you can think of, but I wouldn’t change any of it!” Spike yelled as she continued to fight. As his words sank into her angered mind, she stilled. Her breaths were ragged, eyes flashing gold, as she tried to focus on the face of the man above her.

“What?” Buffy huffed.

“I said I wouldn’t change one moment of it!” Spike growled as his eyes flashed gold.

“Me either.” Buffy’s mind voiced, as she stared at the man above her.

“What was that luv?” Spike asked in his own head.

“Me either. I wouldn’t change a thing either,” Buffy declared out loud. Spike’s mouth slowly met hers. Soon the fire and passion burned between them as their mouths devoured one another. The shrill of the phone, splashed cold water on their fire.

“I need to get that,” Buffy groaned with disappointment as she looked over to the phone.

“Yeah, I know,” Spike huffed as he rolled from her form.

After several rings, Buffy answered the phone with a winded breath.

“Hello?” Spike could hear the other side of the conversation, due to his heightened vampire hearing.

It was a male, her Watcher. After the preliminary ‘how are you s?’ and the like, he asked for her to meet him at his flat to discuss the issues at hand. Buffy just listened, as she reached out and intertwined their hands together. The conversation flowed into his mind. Even though Spike already knew what was being said, his heart warmed at the thought that Buffy wanted to include him in the conversation.

“Yeah Giles, but is there any way that you can pick us up. Spike needs to be there, and he’s still quite flammable,” Buffy explained. The Watcher tried to talk Buffy out of bringing Spike along. Buffy’s face-hardened as her grip tightened slightly on his.

“Giles look, where I go, he goes!” Buffy listened to his response then retorted.

“No, it’s not the claim! If I come alone what are we going to do, research right? Look in mountains of moldy old books for information that may or may not be accurate or even helpful!” Buffy snapped and then listened to the Watcher’s response.

“Giles, like Spike said, for a smart guy you’re not seeing something so simple. Why do we need books when we have a person who has firsthand knowledge about both Angelus and Drusilla?” After a brief silence, Giles responded.

“Yeah, pick us up at noon. Will you please black out the car’s back windows? I’m not relying on a few blankets to keep him safe.” Buffy ordered. With that she hung up the phone with a slight huff. She stared at the phone with a snarl. Buffy then shook her head and her gaze looked upon the man before her.

Spike was in awe of the woman before him. Without a word, he pulled Buffy into his arms and gave her a tender kiss. After several beats, she pulled away and stood. As she approached her bureau, she asked.

“So do you want to wear my white tee shirt that’s two sizes too small for you or a Sunnydale High sweatshirt?” Buffy snickered as she held up both articles of clothing.

“Well, that was a slap and tickle Watcher. Next time you plan to take us on Toad’s Wild Ride, I’ll pass,” Spike murmured from under his smoldering blanket, as he sprinted towards Giles’ front door.

“By all means, hopefully there will not be a next time I have to cart you around in the back of my perfectly serviceable automobile,” Giles snapped back.

“When the bloody hell was that car ever serviceable? A Ford Model-T has better suspension and shocks than that bucket of rust!” Spike scoffed as he stood under the slight overhang above Giles’ apartment door.

“Alright, enough boys!” Buffy huffed as she followed behind the arguing men.

Giles opened his apartment door and entered without a glance back. Buffy and Spike stood on the threshold as they awaited an invitation. After Buffy’s loud throat clear, Giles turned mid stride to look at them.

“Buffy, you need an invitation to enter someone’s home?” Giles questioned with an expression of slight shock.

“No, but Spike does,” Buffy stated as she stood next to her mate. Giles looked at Spike with a slight frown, followed by a heavy sigh.


“Giles!”

“Fine, fine. Spike you may enter. Buffy, please ensure that I don’t regret this decision,” Giles huffed as he began to rifle through paperwork and books scattered across his desk.

Spike entered first, with Buffy two steps behind. Once he shed the smoldering blanket, and closed the heavy wooden door, Buffy started to check his body with her hands and eyes to see if the sun had adversely affected him. Giles noticed this interaction between his Slayer and her mate. Her touches appeared to be intimate, loving. Spike’s reaction to her investigation was the same. Giles felt that their interaction was almost too private to witness.

After several moments, Spike placed the palm of his hand tenderly on Buffy’s cheek and sent his thoughts to her.

“Luv, I’m fine. I’ve been in worse situations with Mr. Sunshine than that. Please don’t worry,” Spike’s voice filled Buffy’s mind. Buffy gently moved his hand from her cheek to her lips. She placed a soft chaste kiss upon his palm, before she released him.

Spike inhaled deeply to pull his mate’s essence into himself, and he was met with another, stronger, overwhelming smell. His cerulean gaze widen comically, as he realized what the smell was from. As Buffy sensed and witnessed his actions, she proceeded to fill her lungs with air. Buffy’s gaze widened instantly as she turned to face her Watcher, once her mind gave the scent a name.

“Giles!”

Giles instantly looked up from his perusal of papers and the like and looked upon Buffy. His features were confused and stunned for the reason behind her proclamation. Giles’ gaze move from Buffy’s stunned features to Spike’s behind her. Spike proceeded to tap his finger to the side of his nose several times, to hint to Giles that they could smell what had transpired in the flat prior to their arrival.

Giles quickly understood what each referred to, as his urgently pulled his glasses that were housed on the bridge of his nose. Which in turn he started to furiously clean the lenses, as his eyes remained down. Several moments later, three pairs of eyes fell on the woman that broke through the silent understanding.

“Is anyone interested in tea and cookies?” Jenny asked as she strode in the room. She held a tray of tea, condiments and a plate of sweets. Buffy’s mouth joined her eyes, as they gaped at the slightly disheveled woman that entered into the living room.



“Giles!” Buffy trilled again.

Giles looked up from his focus that was again held firm on his gleaming lenses. First at Buffy, then at Spike that remained standing behind her. As Giles’ gaze met Spike’s, with a large Cheshire Cat grin and dual "thumbs up”, Spike sauntered over to the extensive book collection, as he started to read the spines on each book.

Giles cleared his throat as he pulled his findings into his arms and brought them to the table located in the middle of the seating.

“Umm, well yes. Let’s go over what Jenny and I have found in regards to Angelus and Drusilla. Their years together without you Spike, and with,” Giles explained as he sat down. Jenny followed, sitting a slight distance from Giles. Buffy could sense that each wanted to sit closer, but each chose to keep the illusion of friends and nothing more.

As Spike continued his perusal of Giles’ extensive collection, he commented.

“Watcher, I don’t know why you're bothering with those moldy books? Obviously, you had better things to do with your time,” Spike chuckled slightly.

Before Giles could respond, rapid dual knocks sounded on the door, without any prompting, the door swung opening. Xander entered, holding two pizzas as he chatted out loud.

“Ok, I hope that everyone likes pepperoni and hamburger? Growing boy here! Need my meats,” Xander spoke as he placed the boxes upon Giles’ desk. Xander’s eyes spied the room and darkened when they fell upon Spike.

“What is Dead boy Jr. doing here? I thought since it was daylight that we would have a reprieve from the undead,” Xander scoffed as he glared at Spike.

“Xander, will you give it a rest? Despite how you feel about him, and which I can tell you that his feelings are very mutual, he knows far more than any of Giles' books and the Watcher’s diaries combined,” Buffy snapped.

“It’s going to be the shortened version! He’s not going to admit how he has firsthand knowledge of them and their dastardly deeds!” Xander scoffed. Before Spike could respond, Giles interceded.

“Xander, don’t be foolish! Yes, Spike has committed almost a hundred years of horrendous deeds, which nobody here is disputing. Unfortunately, right now we need his knowledge to stop his once cohorts in crime,” Giles explained as he finally placed his glasses upon his face.

“Fine! But one move toward my neck, he’ll be dust! Got it bleached boy?” Xander huffed as he settled upon the couch, furthest away from Spike.

“Like you’re some nummy treat! Phlease! I have the blood of my Slayer on tap 24-7! You’re like pig swill, where she is Chateau Lafite 1787*!” Spike scoffed.

“Thanks, I guess,” Buffy huffed, with a heavy eye roll. Even though her body slightly tingled when Spike said ‘my’ instead of ‘the’, this statement still wasn’t on the list of his declarations that swept her off her feet.

“Now that this testosterone fest has been squelched, can we discuss the issue, or more so, the issues at hand?” Buffy asked.

“Is Will coming?” Xander asked between munches on his pizza.

“No. I don’t think after her time with Miss Insanity 1997, she was up to coming. Especially since we are discussing Drusilla’s history,” Buffy explained.

“Spike, would you like me start with what I have found? Then you either add on or correct me?” Giles asked.

“Whatever. It makes no difference to me,” Spike pondered a moment then continued. “Yeah, actually you go ahead, I would love to hear how close the Watcher's ramblings are to reality,” Spike commented with a slight shoulder shrug.

“Ah yes. I am interested also in how accurate my data is,” Giles stated. As Giles started to give a brief history of Angelus, the basic demographics and the like, Spike interrupted.

“Watcher, before I spill my memories for you, who is this?” Spike asked as he pointed towards Jenny that was silently seated on the couch.

“This is Jenny Calendar. She ummm, well she…” Giles stuttered.

“Oh Watcher, spare me. We’re all adults here, well except the whelp, but he’s too dense to even catch on. Let’s use big words shall we?” In a stuffy upper crust English accent, Spike continued. “I am quite perceptive of your carnal knowledge of one another.” Then he continued in his typical tone. “My nose doesn’t lie. My question is more about who is she, in relation to this meeting?” Spike questioned brusquely.

Shortly proceeding Xander’s “hey!” and Giles’ impersonation of a land bound fish, Jenny responded.

“My family was the ones that cursed Angelus with a soul,” Jenny explained, as her voice was filled with strength and pride.

“You’re of gypsy blood? I should have been able to sense it! Well, now that puts a whole new spin on this doesn’t it?” Spike snickered.

“Uh?” Buffy murmured.

“And so say all of us?” Xander commented. Spike looked upon Buffy as he slightly shook his head.

“Tsk…tsk…Watcher, you’re slipping. You let tall, dark and forehead sniff around your Slayer without telling her how and why he claimed that he was on the side of good, justice and all that rot?” Spike snapped, before he continued.

“Let me give you the abridged version. Almost a hundred years ago, Angelus decided to snack upon a tasty gypsy morsel in Romania. Needless to say, she was the beloved of her clan. With a little mojo, abracadabra, they cursed Angelus with a soul. He disappeared for a few years, and then popped back up during the Boxer Rebellion, claiming that he was still the Big Bad. The Boxer Rebellion, fantastic time that was! Ah, the sweet music that filled the air, chaos and screaming in the streets. Smell of blood and fear permeated heavily in the streets. That was the time that I bagged my first Slayer. See she was this tiny Chinese girl with…” Spike stopped mid sentence as he felt the waves of anger flow from his mate. He blinked quickly, to dispel the distant memories from his heavy gaze. After several beats, he continued.

“Ah, yeah so, Darla didn’t buy it and sent him packing. For the next century, he was rubbing rat filth on his face, brooding and fighting his demonly urges. Too bad he didn’t stake himself or greet the sun, but even with a soul, he was always too pompous for something that wasn’t self-serving. Any ways, I lost track of him after the 40’s, when we were trapped in a German-U-boat for Hitler’s secret plans to create an undead super army. In that tube were the most destructive vamps out there, which included yours truly. Then the next thing I heard, he was in good ole’ Sunnyhell, playing lap dog to the Slayer,” Spike explained with a tinge of humor in his baritone voice. Once he finished his synopsis of Angel/Angelus’ curse, Spike snagged a cookie off the tray and took a bite to punctuate his story’s end.

“Well, yes, I was aware, of how he became cursed, but the Watchers lost track of him after the Boxer Rebellion. Ummm, thank you Spike for that condensed version of his last hundred years,” Giles stated. With a slight nod, Spike continued to eat his cookie.

“He’s correct. I am of gypsy descent, and it was my family that cursed Angelus with a soul. Giles informed me that his soul has been removed. I do possess the scrolls that house the curse, which has been passed down for generations. Unfortunately, the translation was not. I’ll try to make a computer program that can translate the curse, so we can perform it again. With any luck, it will work. I understand Buffy, Angel is important to you. I’ll try everything I can to get him back,” Jenny explained.

Spike growled low at Jenny’s statement. Before anyone could react to him, Buffy’s gaze moved towards Spike’s, which never faltered as she responded.

“Jenny, Angel is important to me, as a friend and a warrior on the side of good. I do want him safe. If you can replace his soul, please do, but the fact remains that we will do everything and anything to stop him and Drusilla,” Buffy explained.

Since the claim, despite how desperately Buffy fought to hold on to her believed love for Angel, the truth remained that her heart now belonged to another. All her proclamations before were only words. This was the truth. Spike could feel new and previously unexpressed emotions permeate his body, as his mate’s gaze bore into his.

Despite all others present, Spike wanted to go to her. Fill his arms with this tiny woman that he had quickly come to utterly adore. This tiny woman that he…before Spike could finish his thought or move towards Buffy, Xander’s voice broke through the overwhelming emotions flowing between them.

“But when Miss Insane in the membrane made Willow suck Dead boy’s soul, it had to go somewhere. It can’t be just floating around can it?” Xander asked.

Buffy and Spike’s gaze was broken as Xander’s question had stifled the moment they had just shared. Buffy’s eyes begrudgingly moved towards Xander as she spoke.

“I didn’t want to ask Willow too much this morning, but she did tell me that after the incantation, she believes that Angel’s soul left his body and filled a glass jar on the table before her. We can go back to the warehouse to investigate. See if they’re still there and hopefully that jar is there too,” Buffy explained.

“Luv, they’re probably long gone. That jar is too. There is no way that Angelus would leave that behind. He would have left Dru long before he left that. I have a feeling that he’s hidden his soul where no one will be able to find it. The only way that we can shove it back into the big lug is to magically do so,” Spike explained.

“I concur with Spike, Buffy. The brief knowledge that I do have of Angelus is he is no fool. Besides feed, his soul would be next on his agenda,” Giles added.

“Well, feed and fu…yeah never mind,” Spike’s statement remained unfinished after Buffy’s gaze shot daggers into his direction.

“So that’s a start, Giles do you want to fill us in on what we are dealing with. We need to hear all the gory details, of Drusilla and Angelus, if we are going to know how to approach and defeat them,” Buffy stated.

“Go ahead Watcher. Don’t worry, I’ll put in my two cents,” Spike stated with a snicker.

“Well, I’m glad that you dispelled my fear Spike,” Giles remarked, before he explained to the group, for the next four hours, about Angelus and Drusilla’s undead lives.

Once Giles finished with his debriefing, the room was filled with a stifling silence. Nobody knew what to say about all that the Scourges of Europe had done. Uncharacteristically, Spike spoke only a few times, which was to add to the incident that Giles was explaining. Spike’s voice was the first to break the suppressing silence.

“Well, that was a lovely trip down memory lane. Now that you all know his history, it should be effortless to formulate a plan to take Angelus down,” Spike stated. Xander was the first to respond, as he faced Buffy and Giles.

“I still don’t understand how he can stand there dust free! After everything, you said Giles, he agreed with. He even added his own sick twist!” Xander barked as he stood quickly from his seat.

Everyone remained quiet after Xander’s outburst, even Buffy. Spike felt slight rolls of anger and disgust that flowed from his mate. To mask his hurt Spike, shifted into game face and growled.

“I’d like to see you try whelp! Bring it on!” Spike snarled as he motioned to lunge toward Xander.

Lightning-quick, Buffy stood and placed her hands upon Spike’s chest to stop his movement. Buffy attempted to speak to him with her mind, but Spike pushed her away before her thoughts flowed to him.

“Back off Slayer! You knew you were mated to a master vampire! Don’t seem so surprised by my actions!” Spike roared as he headed toward the door.

Buffy tried again to stop him, but he would not heed. As she stood between him and the door, she spoke.

“Spike, please understand. I’m the Slayer and human. Anyone with a soul would be upset by all this,” Buffy spoke softly.

“Yeah, that’s right Slayer, I did all those things and more. Just threw myself in. Thought it was a party. I liked the rush. I liked the crunch. Never did look back at the victims. Ya know what? Still do.” With that Spike pushed past Buffy as he headed into the newly formed night.

Tears started to hover on the lower lids of her green eyes, as she watched her mate leave into the night. Buffy wanted to go after him, but Giles’ voice called to her, as he brought her back to the task at hand. Find and stop Drusilla and Angelus.

***** *****

Angelus’ partially clothed form remained motionless as he sat in front of the mansion’s hearth. His mind was consumed with the object that filled his hands. He was only donned in snug, black leather pants that remained unfastened. His skin told the tale of his activities that had commenced throughout the night. Not a mark upon his flesh did he consider, as his mind remained focused upon what he beheld.

“Who would have fathomed that something that is weightless, would drag and anchor me into the bottomless depths of self-loathing. All that came into contact with it, has seen something this transparent. Something that distinctly separates humans and demons, made me neither for almost a hundred years,” Angelus murmured as he studied the vessel that housed his soul.

“No matter, my tormentor is no more. Once this day has passed, I will bury this where no one will ever find it again. I will no longer be a captor to this wretched soul,” Angelus growled as his grip tightened on the glass.

He wanted to smash this vessel to pieces. Stomp onto it until the panes became a fine powder under his bare feet. With every bite of the shards of glass, he would relish the sweet pain. Angelus quickly harnessed this desire. He knew that once this bane was free of its translucent cage, it would consume and haunt him again.

As he placed the glass gently upon the end table, his mind started to ponder his newfound freedom. This past evening he had participated and relished in all the depravities that Angel had forbidden him to partake in. Pleasures of flesh and fang. Once he and Drusilla escaped the warehouse, he had drunk his fill of blood, human blood, until he was engorged like a tick on a hound.

Upon their arrival to the mansion, Drusilla had purred and cooed to be taken by Angelus. Well, into the night, he had befouled her porcelain flesh with his mouth, teeth, hands and cock. Drusilla’s shrills and screams filled the mansion, as he continued until he was sated. Long ago, Angelus had merged her pleasure and pain into one. Despite the brutal treatment, he bestowed upon her pale flesh, she always cried and begged for more.

The countless hours of wickedness had been fulfilling, to a point. Now that he, well Angel, had touched perfection, Angelus demanded more. Last night, while Drusilla swallowed his cock, the hair that he grasped in his fists became golden, no longer the color of a raven’s wing. His member swelled two fold as the thoughts of her, filled his mind.

Angel had loved her. He worshiped her. Her purity and despite what she was, a killer of his kind, he longed for her. Angel had denounced all that he was a master vampire, all for her. Angelus knew now that it wasn’t the soul that made him sought that path of ‘righteousness’. It was she. True, the soul harnessed his demon, but only to a point.

Before he knew of her, even before she was born, Angel had done many questionable things. In the 1940’s, Angel had turned a dying man to save the ship and his own hide. There were 1970’s, when he entered into a donut shop looking for food, and found it by feeding on a dying clerk. Another incident in the 1920’s, when he walked away from a hotel full of people, to let them become a feast for a Thesulac demon. It wasn’t until Whistler showed him her, bathed in sunshine, did he truly decide that redemption was his calling, his need, his desire.

Angelus wanted to punish her for making him want her. Punish her for making him crave her. Punish her for making him weak. She would pay. Payment in both body and blood. His demon wanted to mark her, inside and out. What he desired was not a claim. It was much deeper than that. He wanted her to be his sole possession, to use as he saw fit. Her punishment would be eternal. Angelus decided that these desires would become a reality.

She would be his ultimate masterpiece. All that transpired before, would look like a child’s crayon portrait of the Sistine Chapel. Even Drusilla would be considered sane and stable when he was finished with her.

As this plan took shape in his immoral mind, Angelus understood that the first step was that she needed to be stripped away from her first cherished possession, her mate. The thoughts of pulling claimed mates apart brought a manic snicker to bubble from his throat.

The added bonus that he would punish his wayward childe, made this plan even sweeter. “Two vamps, one stake!” Angelus’ mind snickered as he continued to formulate. Angelus was broken from his thoughts, as a nude Drusilla hovered in the doorway of the main room.

The entirety of her flesh was peppered with welts, bites, lacerations and the like. Her ebony hair flowed into soft curls, some strands lay upon her breasts, as the rest spilled down her back. Her aquamarine eyes were at half-mast, both from sleep and lusty contentment, as she studied his seated form.

“Daddy, why are you here all alone? Death is still hovering in the sky, and it is yet time to rise,” Drusilla purred as she stalked closer. Angelus turned his form in his seat and faced her.

“Sorry baby, just thinking. Go back to bed, I’ll return shortly,” Angelus ordered. With a large pout, Drusilla looked upon him and retorted.

“Daddy, Miss Edith is whispering to me that your mind is filled with another princess. A golden maiden, that has taken my place. Daddy no longer wants his raven-haired princess.” Drusilla whined as her talons tore at her exposed pale skin. Angelus demon roared, as he flashed forward and grabbed Drusilla’s wrists harshly.

“I will not tolerate being questioned by you! I am your sire and you will heed my commands! Now go back to bed, or your flesh will greet the sun!” Angelus growled as he shoved her body harshly. Drusilla’s form crumbled to the floor, as sobs tore from her throat.

“Daddy…please daddy! Forgive your princess. I only want to be fully yours!” Drusilla wailed as her slight frame shook with distress.

As he regarded her weeping form, Angelus’ demon receded as he walked towards her. He extended his hand to Drusilla. After several moments, her tear-filled eyes looked upon his gracious gift, as she placed her trembling hand into his. As she rose, Angelus spoke.

“Daddy is sorry to upset you, princess. My mind is still plagued with Angel’s thoughts,” Angelus explained as he pulled her into the cage of his arms. Drusilla nuzzled into his chest, as she spoke.

“Daddy, we must punish her for making your mind heavy with abhorrent thoughts. Punish her, for leading my men astray. The wretched whore must pay,” Drusilla whispered as her naked form slid down his flesh. As she knelt before him, her hands started to free his hardened member from its leather confines.

“That she will princess, that she will,” Angelus promised, as Drusilla brought him into her mouth, as she bestowed pleasure upon his flesh that he yearned that it was another.





* The record price at auction for a bottle of wine ($156,000) was for a 1787 Chateau Lafite, which was once thought to be owned by Thomas Jefferson.[2]

5:32 the sickly pale green numbers on her alarm clock shone. Buffy solicitous form roamed over the soft mattress as she sought some sort of peace. Her tumultuous mind and body were unable to grant her any. Since Spike left her last night, with rage in his veins, she has been unable to find solace in any form. Her mind, body and soul cried out for him. Each screamed and demanded that she find her mate.

Only two nights. Two nights, in which their forms and essences curled onto one another during sleep. Two tranquil nights that Buffy’s dreams weren’t plagued with monsters of her past and present. As she lay in the safe cage of his arms and chest, she felt a sense of completion that she had never known before, or believe that she will ever again, without him by her side.

Buffy’s restless form clung to her pillow that was wrapped in Spike’s customary black cotton tee. Once the dryer had completed its job, Buffy pulled the article of clothing from the heated belly of the machine and brought it to her nose. The heavy scent of perfume and soap permeated the fabric, but under the layers of clean, was the heady essence of Spike. Cigarettes, cheap bourbon, and what could be only described as pure male.

The soft, worn cotton of this cheap substitute grazed her cheek as she attempted to seek comfort from the only thing of him that remained. Once he stormed from Giles’ home, as the evening waned on, Buffy felt the substantial sinking feeling that he was not returning.

For an inadequate alternative, she longed for the comfort on her room or more specifically, her bed. The bed that housed their intertwined forms, less than 24 hours before. Once Buffy had returned home from the extensive pow-wow that continued in despite his absence, she found that her mother had stripped her bed from the sheets that held the heady scent of him and their lovemaking.

Like a woman possessed, Buffy stormed the basement in hopes to find the sheets awaiting their fate with the washer. Unfortunately, she was too late. All that she could take comfort in now, was his shirt. “And his socks, but despite how I long for him, I am so not snuggling with his socks!” Buffy snickered to herself. As she chuckled, the sounds merged with sobs that tore from her throat. Her tears started to fall, in earnest, from her slightly swollen eyes.

5:42 the clock gleamed. Ten minutes her mind was occupied with the thoughts of Spike. These ten minutes were a minuscule cross section of her entire evening and the early morning hours, which fueled only thoughts of him. As she rubbed her tear-stained cheek over the worn fabric, her features that catered to her senses, continued to scream for him.

Her eyes demanded to drink in the perfection of his alabaster skin, as the moonlight bath him, as he lay naked in her arms. They craved the cerulean depths that spoke volumes to the emotions that laid deep in his mind and heart.

Her nose demanded the heady scent of his flesh. His pores, which are soaked with the erotic combination of danger, unadulterated male, and passion, in which brought her to her knees with one diminutive inhale of his skin.

Her ears demanded to hear his deep baritone voice that lulled and excited her synchronous. His profound growls heralding his lust, rage and possession, as it echoed from his muscular chest and tantalizing throat.

Her hands demanded to grasp and explore his cool enticing flesh. In turn, her skin demanded his touch to fulfill her lust and provide comfort that he was not present to bestow.

Her mouth demanded to be filled with all of him. Her fangs descended from the confines of her pink gums, as it searched for his throat that he offered as a chalice for her strength and to intensify their blood union.

In addition to her raging body, her soul and heart yearned for their mate. 5:59 In the silence of the predawn hours, time moved as sluggish as cold molasses. The small ticks of the inner mechanisms of the clock signaled each moment that she was without him. Buffy didn’t need the tattoo of the machine to inform her of what she already knew. Each of her heartbeats kept track of the time that they were apart.

Buffy was unaware of where he may have gone. She could still sense that he wasn’t too far, but his exact location, she couldn’t say. With daybreak meeting the horizon soon, she gathered that he had sought shelter from the sun’s deadly rays. Buffy hoped that he was safe and not suffering as she was.

As Hypnos finally placed a tender kiss upon her lids and mind, Buffy was pulled into the darkness of her unconsciousness. As her mind cleared, her final thought was that she hoped that at least in her dreams he would be there.

** ** **

Across the slumbering town of Sunnydale, Spike laid upon the cold marble of a sarcophagus. The same stone that Buffy was perched upon as his greedy hands and mouth sought her flesh.


Spike’s hand started to eagerly roam her body. One hand was in her golden tresses as the other slowly worked under her shapeless sweatshirt in search for her tantalizing flesh. As his mouth traveled down her throat, one of her hands found its way to his bleached locks, as she held his mouth to her heated skin. Her other hand grasped his leather-encased shoulder to keep herself steady. Spike’s vampire visage sprung forward as her pulse called to his demon. When he was ready to slide his fangs into the soft subtle flesh of her throat




Spike pulled his mind from his memories as his thoughts continued. In such a short time, his whole world had changed. In one moment, he was a master vampire, attached to his arm his black princess, his paramour for over a hundred years. They fed and fuck without a care in the world. The only issue in a hundred years was that she became weakened by an angry mod in Prague. To bring her back to her former glory, Spike sought a cure for his ripe wicked plum. He concluded that a trip to the Hellmouth may bring salvation for his failing princess.

As a hurricane clears expanses of land, Drusilla’s premonition and All Hallows Eve, changed his world forever. They stripped away what he was and made who he was today; a being that sought comfort and connection from a tiny warrior that was created solely to banish him and his kind back to hell that spawned their demons.

As Spike’s mind whirled with the thoughts of his now undead life, his heart ached for her. His mate. His Buffy. The claim brought them together, but her beautiful heart and soul drew him in and enveloped him. Injured and disoriented, she offered her body to heal him. Not only her blood but also the comfort of her arms, as his body mended.

Despite her naïveté with relationships and the pleasures of the flesh, she granted him the transcendent gift of her body time and time again. As her heady blood sang in his veins, her sweet womb encased his tepid flesh as they bestowed the ultimate pleasure upon one another.

Even the ensouled Angel could not bring their relationship asunder. Despite her protests that her heart belonged to him and him alone, her body and blood sang his name. It was his touch that she craved. His blood, she hungered for. His cock, that made her scream in ecstasy.

Then last night, while the gypsy tried to comfort her with promises of Angel’s soul being returned, Buffy proclaimed to all, that she wanted Angel safe as a friend and as a warrior, nothing more. In addition to her words, Spike could sense more. He perceived intense and all consuming emotions that transcended all others before that moment.

“Maybe it was lo…..” Spike shook his head to clear these thoughts. His demon roared its response as it interrupted this thought, “How could it be? She loathed you for your deeds. Your own mate despises who, and what you are!” As the rage boiled in his veins, his demon then emerged as it was fueled by these inner thoughts.

In full demon visage, Spike rose from the cold marble as he began to throw and destroy all that his rage could reach. After several moments, he stood in the middle of the tomb as a manic giggle poured from his lips. His unneeded breath ragged, as he tried to control his demon. Slowly, the visage slipped away and Spike was left with only the residue of his destruction.

Spike proceeded to pull his emotionally drained body upon the cold marble again as he sought some comfort that he knew the unyielding stone could not confer. He pulled a small white ream of fabric from the inner pocket of his duster. A shirt. Buffy’s shirt that she had offered in jest, as his usual armor was in the wash. As he brought the fabric to his nose, he inhaled the overwhelming essence of his mate.

His mind revisited the emotions that flowed from her as her gaze beheld his, during her proclamation at the Watcher’s home. They didn’t hold disgust or hatred. These intense and immense feelings were quite the opposite. Maybe these feelings were not the “l” word, but they were something prolific. With that thought, Spike’s mind began to spill questions forward. Four minuscule, but life altering questions that burned his mind, “Could she? Does she? Could I? Do I?”

As Spike felt the prickle of the sun meeting the horizon, he longed for his mate. He desired to be completely nude, both physically and emotionally, as they lay intertwined upon her bed. Now as he laid upon the hardened marble, his flesh felt so cold, the absence of her heat and passion no longer warming his skin. His heart clenched in his chest at the thoughts of his mate longing for him as he craved her.

As her essence that permeated her shirt filled his throat and lungs, his entire body screamed for her. His erection pressed against its denim confines as his fangs descended from his gums. Spike’s eyes flashed golden, and then returned to his once natural state of azure. Despite his demon’s earlier protests, it also craved her. Only self-preservation against the suns deadly rays kept him housed in the tomb.

He was angered with himself for his petty childish antics of walking away last night. In a small recess of Spike’s mind, he did comprehend how one could become disgusted with his actions. Even though his demon has been housed in his body for decades longer than his years as a human, his mind still remembered what one would consider being horrendous acts against mankind.

His demon relished in all of it. As his human side remained safely tucked away in the deep recesses of his mind, his demon attacked the world with fist and fang. Buffy brought forth the long forgotten humanness in Spike. Even though his demon despised this fact, William the man, craved it.

Tonight when Spike stormed away from Buffy, the waves of her hurt filled him to the core. He wanted to go to her, encase her slight form and push the rest of the world away. However, his stubbornness took hold, as it propelled his feet away from his seemingly anguished mate.

With the demon in the forefront, Spike searched for a warm throat to blank his mind, as he swallowed their life-giving essence. As he pillaged the closest store, for a clean change of clothes, the night watchman tried to stop his crime with a gun. In a flash, Spike’s fangs were in his throat, as he gulped down his blood. As he swallowed deep, Buffy’s face and soft voice filled his mind. As he heard the faltering of the man’s heartbeat, he pulled away, to let his unconscious body slump to the floor.

Spike then proceeded to feed upon numerous unintelligent souls of Sunnydale that chose to ignore the blatant signs that flashed warnings that vampires resided here. Each person several pints lighter, but still maintained a heartbeat. Demon or no, Spike’s word was gold.

When his belly was full, but he was in no way sated, he returned to the crypt in which he would call his new home. When the night blossoms again, Spike would seek his mate. His heart has yet to forgive her for the betrayal that it felt, but he knew that she needed to be nourished. He would offer his wrist and nothing more. Spike knew that this would be torture and punishment for both, but he felt that he needed to make his point clear, she had hurt him deeply.

** ** **

Buffy was awoken two hours later by her mother’s loud announcement that she was going to be late for helping her at the gallery, and that she had ten minutes to make herself ‘presentable’. Buffy pulled her disoriented and emotionally drained form from her bed, as she shuffled around her room to locate clothing. Buffy was aiding her mother with a new shipment, so jeans and a sweatshirt were acceptable. She pulled her hair into a sloppy bun, and headed downstairs with minutes to spare.

The day dragged by as she tried to exhaust her muscles to in turn, fatigue her mind. Despite all the heavy lifting, which she had to reduce due to her mother’s watchful eye, her mind continued to hover and be consumed by only one topic, Spike. After six hours of manual labor, Buffy returned home.

As the hot water sluiced over her skin, her thoughts continued to roam. “Where is he? He is ok? Did Angelus or Drusilla get to him? Is he still ‘good’?” All these thoughts plagued her mind. Buffy’s thoughts continued to fully occupy her mind; so much so that she didn’t notice that the water had become icy cold, as her body began to shake from the frigid droplets. As she pulled her shaking form from the shower, her teeth rattled as she wrapped her body in a large cotton towel.

Buffy trudged into her room. 5:45. It was five more hours, until she could stow away from the safety of her home and patrol. More importantly, look for Spike. Food, sleep and a little mindless TV were on the agenda to fill her time. Despite her plans, her stomach protested the small morsels of food, her mind refused to heed its spinning for sleep, and TV was beyond mindless. So much so, that it only held her attention for ten minutes. The rest of the evening, Buffy paced as she waited the time for freedom.

Joyce headed to bed early tonight. Buffy was so grateful for small blessings. At 9:45 p.m., her feet hit the frozen earth as she descended from her window. In full speed, Buffy raced towards the nearest cemetery.

As she stood upon the sacred ground, she cleared her mind and reached out to her mate. As the tendrils slowly crept across the air, they quickly hit a barrier. Buffy’s mind recoiled at the obstruction. She tried again, same effect. Her eyes started to water, as she understood the reason, Spike didn’t want to be found. He was pushing her out.

With a deep intake of breath, she tried to steady herself. As she continued to walk through the tombstones, her blood then began to boil. Her demon roared forward as rage took hold. “Well, if he wants to act like a big child, then fine! Let him!” Buffy huffed as she searched for something to quell this rage. She needed a vamp to kill.

Spike held his form firm in the shadows as he watched his mate’s demon explode forward. He could feel her rage. Directed solely towards him, roll over his skin. His demon purred at the devilishly wicked things that she could do in this state. His fully erected cock pressed against the zipper of his denims as his mind concocted lusty thoughts. Spike thoroughly enjoyed Buffy’s body in any form. However, his demon, took ultimate pleasure when her fangs were in his throat as he was balls deep in her heated quim.

As the night proceeded, Spike remained hidden from her eyes and the claim’s connection. Despite the anger that he felt towards her shame and disgust of him, he still needed to assure her safety, especially with Angelus and Drusilla at large.

At 2:00 a.m., after several uneventful dustings, Buffy dragged her exhausted form home as she sought the comforts of her bed. Throughout the night, she believed that she sensed Spike’s presence. As quickly as his essence was felt, it would disappear. Buffy assumed that it was her mind playing tricks on her senses. As she stood on the roof under her bedroom window, she took one last look into the night. With a soft whisper she spoke, “Goodnight Spike. I miss you.” With hovering tears in her eyes, Buffy disappeared through her bedroom window.

“I miss you too, Buffy.” Spike whispered back as he turned from her home, as his form became swallowed up by the night again.

** ** **

“Watcher! Watcher! Rise and Shine!” Spike growled as his foot shook the mattress that housed sleeping man.

“Wha?” Giles mumbled as his mind was dragged from the realm of sleep.

“Get up or you’ll be taking a permanent slumber!” Spike roared as his foot continued to jostle the bed. With the increase of movement, the headboard tattooed several bangs upon the wall, before Giles groggily sat up. As he blinked quickly to clear the sleep from his mind and brain, Spike spoke again.

“How dare you leave your keep alone?! Are you ready to hang up your tweed and no longer be a Watcher? Is there some retirement home for Watchers, that lose there Slayers, that you’re ready to visit?!" Spike growled as his golden demon eyes bore into Giles seated form.

“Spike? Wha….what are you prattling on about?” Giles murmured as he stifled a yawn. Lightening quick Giles was pinned to his headboard by an enraged Master vampire. The haze that permeated his mind cleared quickly, as Spike’s fists were bunched in his shirt. Spike utilized this brutual grip, to have Giles’ back meet with the wood several unmerciful times.

“Spike! Please explain what is going on!” Giles asked as he looked upon the demon that seethe before him. Spike stilled his violent movements, but still remained within a hairs breath of Giles' form.

“Let me make this simple to you, Buffy is not to patrol alone, ever. With Angelus and Drusilla loose, she will be sure as shite dead! So if this means that your beauty sleep is interrupted then so be it!” Spike snarled. As Giles tried to focus on the vamp before him, his voice shakily left his throat.

“You are certainly right Spike; my foolishness and assumption that since Buffy was now part vamp and Slayer that she would be able to continue her job as usual. I was wrong,” Giles explained. Spike released his fists that clenched Giles’ nightshirt, as he then slowly retracted away from Giles’ bed.

“Spike, may I ask, not that I am placing my duties upon you, but don’t you think that you may be better equipped to patrol with her than I?” Giles asked the still teed off vamp.

Spike’s gaze moved from his briefly, as his demon receded. After several beats, his gaze returned as he responded.

“Don’t you think I know that Watcher? Don’t you think that I want to be always by her side? She’s my mate! That is now my sole purpose in my undead life is to insure that she remains safe and well taken care of. But….” Spike stated as his voice trailed.

“But?” Giles spoke as he urged for Spike to continue. After several beats, he did.

“Look, it’s complicated. Also, last time I checked you don’t have your couch or cigar handy Sigmund, so let’s not go there,” Spike huffed. Mirth filled Giles’ gaze as he responded.

“Spike, you couldn’t be upset that Buffy felt that what you and the other’s had done was utterly and completely wrong, could you?” Giles scoffed.

As the question left his lips, fright spilled across his form as his mind screamed that he just was flippant to a master vampire. The same master vampire, that wouldn’t have any qualms at all about tearing his throat out. A smirk graced Spike’s lips as the smell of fear permeated his nostrils.

“Oh Watcher, don’t get your knickers in a twist. I’m not here to fill my belly. I just wanted to ensure my mate’s safety. I did follow her tonight, unbeknownst to her. When she and I work out our issues, I will patrol by her side. Until then, I need you to stay with her during every patrol. In addition, keep a watchful eye on her during the daylight hours. Just because Captain Forehead and Dru are vamps, doesn’t mean they won’t find a less flammable demon to kill her all the same.” With those instructions, Spike turned and disappeared from Giles’ room. Once the soft click of the front door affirmed his departure, Giles released the breath that he had held since he was awoken.


Giles’ mind filled with thoughts of what just transpired. The fact that he had remained alive after he received a pre-dawn visit by an enraged master vampire was in its self truly amazing. However, even more so, that this said master vampire was deeply and truly hurt by the actions of his Slayer. As Giles pulled his now fully awake form from his bed, he headed downstairs. First to relieve his bowels that he was surprised held during Spike’s visit and to locate a disinvite spell, immediately.

** ** **

As Buffy’s restless form tossed upon the soft mattress, Spike stood in the shadows of her room as he watched in utter rapture. Once he left the Watcher’s flat, he immediately headed towards her home.

That was almost two hours ago. For two hours his eyes drank in her beautiful golden form. As the moonlight kissed her golden flesh, Spike was envious that it wasn’t his lips, or that he wasn't the pale rays. As he stood vigil, Spike could feel the waves of distress that flowed from her sleeping form. Despite her mind hovering in the realm of dreams, Spike feared that her uneasiness announced that Hypnos’ son Phobetor, the holder of nightmares, had a grasp on her mind.

Several times her lids twitched as her face scrunched with discontent. Spike longed to pull her sleeping form into his protective embrace, but again his male pride and his irritated demon forbid him. So his form stood, encased in the shadows as he continued his silent guard.

As his gaze flickered upon the pale numbers of her alarm clock, the miniscule lights announced what he already knew, daylight was upon them. Spike pulled his body from the darkness as he approached her bed. He pulled the sleeve of his duster up, to expose his wrist. As his form hovered at the edge of her mattress, Buffy shifted slightly as she now lied upon her back. Her nipples pebbled under the form-fitted tank top. Again, his erection stood proudly encased in his denims. Behind the glorious spill of her golden tresses, Spike could see his shirt wrapped around her pillow. The scent of salty tears that was infused in the fabric filled his nostrils, as he stood transfixed by her stunning features.

Spike’s demon emerged slightly, so his fangs could descend. With a sharpened edge, he dragged the tooth along the area that once housed his pulse. His blood welled into the scrape. Instantaneously as the scent of his blood filled the room, Spike witnessed her eyes flash open. Immediately, the green hue was consumed with golden. Buffy sat up, as her fangs slid down from her gums.

Before a word could be spoken, Spike sat upon her bed and offered his wrist. Buffy’s mind was still hazy from sleep, but her demon knew exactly what it needed, what it craved. Buffy grasped his presented gift with her petite hands, as her razor-sharp fangs slid into his yielding flesh. Her eyelids fluttered as his heady blood filled her mouth, and traveled down her throat.

Spike hungry gaze bore down as he witnessed her feeding. His cock increased two fold as her lips latched to his wrist. Buffy began to purr as his blood whirled through her veins and his lusty thoughts began to flood her mind. Spike could smell the intoxicating mixture of her pleasure and arousal as they teased his nostrils. His resolve was waning as she continued to feed.

After two heavier pulls, Buffy removed her fangs from his wrist. As her raspy tongue lavished attention to the puckered dual holes, her golden gaze held steady on his face. In her mind she whispered, “Look at me.” Instantly his lids opened as his golden gaze met hers. Buffy pulled slightly back, as she released his wrist. Her tongue snaked out of her mouth to stroke her swollen lips, as the greedy muscle searched for any remnants of his heady blood.

Their stares never faltered. Several heartbeats passed as the room filled with deafening silence. Buffy’s voice then broke the stalemate. “Spike?” her voice quavered as her hand tentatively reached for her mate.

In a whirlwind of motion, and a blur of black, the curtains were sucked out the open window as they announced his sudden departure. As she stared at his exit, a sob tore from her throat as she mourned the scornfulness of her mate.

The following day, time moved at a snail's pace. Buffy attempted to continue her life, despite the chasm presiding in her chest. Even though her blood and mind didn’t scream for nourishment, her heart and soul cried out for her mate. Spike had provided the sustenance her body required, but he failed to offer solace her soul desired.

As the school day ended, Buffy made her way to the library to discuss further strategies with Giles. Upon her entrance, she was met with four pairs of inquisitive eyes. Giles, Jenny, Willow and Xander had all taken residence, along with a mountain of books, at the long wooden table. As her feet brought her toward the others, the silence encased her.

“Umm, hi?” Buffy’s voice broke through the stillness.



Buffy pulled up another chair and spied the numerous books and paper strewn about. As the others continued their work, Buffy spoke.

“So what are we looking at?” Buffy leaned to the side, noticing the books before them had volumes of literature on William the Bloody, aka Spike. “Her Spike!” Buffy's mind screamed.

“Giles, what is this all about?” Buffy demanded as she gestured to the books.

“Well, I felt that we needed to have more information on the vampire that is aiding in this charge against his once fellow cohorts,” Giles explained.

“And why pray tell are all of you wasting your time with that?” Buffy scoffed. Before Giles could respond, Xander put in his two cents.

“Since your lover boy threatened Giles last night, that’s when!” Xander blasted.

“What? What the hell are you talking about? Giles, care to explain?” Buffy demanded. After Giles gave Xander a poignant look, he explained.

“Xander is not entirely accurate about “threatening” per se. It is true Spike did visit me last night, well to be more precise, early this morning. He was quite upset that you patrolled alone last night. He strongly urged me to join you in any future outings. Despite his method, I do whole-heartedly agree. With Drusilla and Angelus in our midst, it would be wise that no one is left alone,” Giles explained as he continually cleaned his already immaculate glasses.

“That’s fine. But researching Spike is complete and utter bullshit!” Buffy hissed.

“Pardon?” Giles asked.

“Nothing. Believe me Giles I don’t think I was exactly alone last night during patrol. I would bet anything that Spike was playing peek-a-boo in the shadows while I was doing my Slayer’s duty,” Buffy assured the group.

“Ah, yes, but I do believe that until you and he work out your differences, that I accompany you, all the same," Giles explained.

“Fine, fine. If Spike wasn’t acting like a brooding brat, he could do it, but since he chooses to do so, I guess that you’ll play the sidekick. But the question remains, why are you looking up his bio? He was completely forth coming the other night about his part of the evilness that was the fab four,” Buffy explained.

“Well we were just checking on how accurate his stories were. He’s not Pinocchio, we don’t know if he’s telling the truth by the length of his nose.” Xander scoffed as he continued to flip through the weathered and yellowed parchment of the extensive novel before him.

“And?” Buffy asked as the edge in her voice commanded a response.

“He’s telling the truth.” Xander’s words were muffled as he tried to cover them with a cough.

“Nice try Xander. Vampire hearing, remember? Yeah, I knew he was telling the truth,” Buffy snapped.

“Fine! So Deadboy Jr. was telling the truth! It doesn't mean that we shouldn’t know who we are stretching our necks out for!” Xander huffed as he slammed the book. Willow shifted slightly, as she tried to cover the book that lay before her.

“I also see that Willow is looking at some sort of magic book. Again, nice try Willow, vampire sight. I can see the small print even from here,” Buffy explained.

“I’m sorry Buffy. Giles was a little freaked out by Spike’s visit. He wanted a disinvite spell. I felt that since I released Angelus onto the populous, that I could at least do some good with magic,” Willow explained as her usually porcelain features had a pinkish hue.

“Well, if it makes you sleep better at night Giles, then by all means do it. I really do believe that if Spike wanted a midnight snack, you wouldn’t be here right now,” Buffy sneered as she started to walk away from the group. She called over her shoulder before the library doors swung shut.

“Giles, I’ll meet you two doors down from my house to patrol. I advise you not to make Spike angry, be there at 11 p.m.”

With that, the hallways of Sunnydale High swallowed up Buffy’s angered form, as she exited the library. Four pairs of eyes watched in bewilderment at the angered Slayer/friend that had just left their presence.

***********

Buffy’s heated form stormed through the sun-filled streets of Sunnydale. After several miles of rage-filled strides, she slowed her steps as she began to look upon the streets of Sunnydale. Everyone was milling about, preparing for the holiday season, which was six weeks away.

Buffy’s mind started to ponder how quickly her life had changed since Halloween. Even though she was the Slayer, the only girl in the world to protect those that called it home, from the evils that went bump in the night, she had become so much more. Now she was mated to and was now part, of those that do the bumping. How quickly things had changed.

Before, she was in love, or so she told herself, with Angel. A May December romance. Actually, it was more of a May/two hundred years later, December romance. She felt that he was the love of her young life. He had seen so much, and her so little. She believed he would introduce her to the world. He would also protect her from all that would harm her. Then Spike came along.. Now, she truly knew what it is like to be shown the world.

Where Angel shielded and coddled her, Spike showed her the world and fiercely stood by her side to fight. Where Angel spoke in riddles, Spike told her the ugly truth. Where Angel hid his true nature, Spike embraced it and relished in all he was. This factor did bother her somewhat. Even though she wanted the truth, sometimes it was easier to look at everything with rose-colored glasses. Spike didn’t live on the river of "denile", and despite the depravities that he had committed; she had to respect him for his candor.

Above all else, once Angel lost his soul, he had become the monster that all the literature portrayed him as. Spike, conversely, was a walking contradiction. He craved blood, but he was willing to only feed, not kill. He was fierce and dangerous, but passionate and loving. The same hands and fangs that had killed thousands proceeded to lavish attention upon her flesh as if it was the sheerest silk. Always passionate, not enraged, despite how he craved her body and blood.

Buffy’s body shivered as her memories flooded with Spike’s skillful mouth and hands upon her heated form. Desire pulled at every nerve ending as she craved him, all of him. His fangs in her throat as his cock filled her depths. As she made her way home, she vowed that she would find him, despite what his intentions were. She would find him and consume him.


*************

The evening continued to drag by as Buffy waited for the clock to strike 11 p.m. Upon her arrival home, she had taken a long shower as she brought herself to completion several times with her fingers in her core, as her nimble fingers tweaked her peaked nipple. Despite her multiple completions, she remained unsatisfied. A meager dinner of leftover pizza and mindless TV rounded out her evening. Once she noticed the time for her to leave approached, her body hummed with anticipation.

At five minutes till, her feet thumped upon the frozen ground as she headed to her rendezvous with Giles. Buffy noticed that he sat, exactly where she had instructed. Within moments, she was seated in his car, and they were headed off to patrol. The silence that filled the car was stifling, but Buffy's mind was too consumed with lust to care. Her senses tingled with the thoughts of Spike.

As the duo pulled in front of Restfield Cemetery, Buffy was out of the door before Giles had ceased the engine. Buffy’s eyes flashed gold, her fangs descended, as Spike’s essence curled around her heated form. All of her screamed that he was close, but due to her fledgling status, she couldn’t pinpoint his exact location. For the next several hours, Buffy stormed through the headstones as Giles followed dutifully, but silently behind.

Buffy could feel Spike stalking her, almost taunting her. On several occasions, she swore that she could hear his baritone snicker on the winds.. After staking several newly risen vamps, the still enraged Buffy, called it a night.

“Absolutely stunning,” Spike’s mind purred as he watched Buffy stalking through the cemetery. Spike hovered, always down wind, from her enraged form. “The Watcher is lucky he heeded my warning, or next time I would have had to of gotten physical,” Spike inwardly growled. After several hours watching his everlasting erection remained untouched pushing against the zipper of his denims. Buffy decided to head home.

In the shadow of the trees, Spike watched Buffy scale her home and enter her bedroom. Endless hours later Spike, still stood vigil under her window. Despite the silence that enwrapped him, his mind and body were at war. His mind told him to leave, continue to bestow penance upon her. His body demanded his fangs and cock to be submerged into her tender flesh. His body won out, but with stipulations, from his mind.

As he stood in her room, he admired her form, that was bathed in the moonlight. Again he was envious of the rays that caressed her form. Unlike last night, he didn’t dwell. As he approached her bed, his demon emerged. He dragged his serrated tooth across his wrist, as the heady scent of blood filled the room.

Buffy’s eyes instantly flew open, as she smelled his blood. Before he arrived, her sleep was stormy at best. She could sense him outside of her window, long before he breached her room. Lightning-quick, Buffy tackled his form as her fangs sunk into his throat. As she fed from him, her cotton covered core, circled over his denim-encased erection. After two deep pulls, Buffy retracts her fangs from his throat. Before words could tumble from her blood stained lips, Spike pushed her form from his.

As the pair stared upon one another in a visual stalemate, lust-filled waves flowed from both of their bodies. Dual chests heaved, as each attempted to capture their breaths. Within moments, Buffy’s body again lunged for his. Once she landed, only the fibers of her carpet met her chest and hands. A sense of deja vu hit her, as her golden eyes looked upon the curtains that lapped outside the threshold of her window. Immediately, Buffy’s enraged form stormed to the window as she yelled into the night.

“Spike! You may have gotten away this time, but next time, you will heed!” As finality, Buffy slammed the window down as she stormed off to the bathroom for another needed shower.

As Spike’s shaky form stormed away from Buffy’s home, as he inwardly berated himself for his foolishness. “Why am I playing games? I have my mate, fangs in my throat, cunny wet and willing, and I am running back to my crypt to what, have a now needed wank!” Spike inwardly yelled.

Deep inside his mind, the man that Buffy had unleashed spoke. “She despises us. What and who we are she loathes. How can we forgive her after that?” As Spike continued to storm closer to his ‘home’ his mind continued to wage a war within its self.


**********


Buffy met the next morning with a newfound determination. Today she would find her mate and he would heed her. As the hot water droplets splattered over her still tightly wound form, she formulated a plan.

As the sunlight enwrapped her body with late Autumn’s warmth, she headed over to Restfield Cemetery. Last night as she angrily weaved throughout the gravestones, her nostrils pervaded with his essence. At first she chalked it up to her desires and her mind playing tricks on her. Then she believed that since he was “stalking” her as he remained in the shadows, she believed that it was just that. Due to his disappearing act again last night, she was determined to find him. Since she had the upper hand, while he was sleeping the sleep of the undead and the sun that struck her form, she would find him.

When she felt that she had reached the middle of the cemetery, Buffy stood among the grave markers as she closed her eyes. With deep even breaths, she tried to capture his scent. Despite the entire area coated with the heady musk, it seemed to hover thicker to her left. Her golden eyes opened as she followed several feet more. Deeper within the quiet graveyard, she closed her eyes again. The tendrils of the claim, reached forward in an attempt to locate him. Without opening her eyes, she continued to pursue the direction that her body beckoned her to.

Buffy’s body yielded as she felt that she had finally found him. As her eyes opened, she peered upon a crypt. The same crypt that he had brought her to the night, he kidnapped her from the hospital. A small giggle bubbled from her lips as she was mentally kicking herself for not looking here before. As the chuckle died in her throat, she strolled over to the crypt’s heavy wooden door. On the mental count of three, she kicked open the barrier that separated her from her mate.

The sound of the door’s reverberations sounded throughout the tomb. Immediately, Spike’s startled form flew from the marble sarcophagus. His demon surged forward, as he lowered his body into a feral stance. Through golden eyes, he stared upon his rage-filled mate.

“Good morning Spikey! Rise and shine! I felt that since you’ve been conveniently been visiting me while I made with the sleepage, I should return the favor,” Buffy snarled as she stood bathed in the bright sunlight of the day.

“Buffy?” Spike’s bewildered voice spilled from his lips, as his demon visage slipped away.

“The one and only! So are you ready to be a big boy…”Buffy asked as she peered down to the impressive bulge that was housed in his low-slung unbuttoned jeans, she amended her words. “Well bigger boy. Are we going to suss this out or what?” As she looked upon Spike, she could see that he was still angry with her. His gaze and silence spoke volumes.

“You know what? I’m done! I’m not going to try anymore! I’ve been driving myself out of my mind with how much I’ve…..look never mind. You are angry, for what I truly don’t know. You don’t even respect me to tell me even that much!” Buffy yelled as she turned to walk away.. Instantly Spike ran to the door and hovered on the threshold between the safe darkness of the tomb and the harmful sun’s rays.

“Stop!” Spike yelled as his hand reached into the sunshine. Instantly, his alabaster skin sizzled as the rays scorched his flesh. As his pain rolled through his injured body, Buffy turned and walked back towards the crypt. She remained on the threshold as she faced her mate. As he cradled his injured hand, Buffy spoke.

“I see that Mr. Sun isn’t too happy with you either. I guess your ability to bask in the sun has an expiration date. I guess you need to feed from me to keep it up. Well, that and the fact that it’s noon time, the suns at its hottest right now,” Buffy explained.. As she witnessed his azure eyes study her, Buffy’s anger abated slightly.

“Spike, so are you ready to tell me why you’re angry?” Buffy asked. With those words Spike’s face-hardened, as his pride and demon yet again took hold of him. His mind yelled, “Why doesn’t she know? How can she not know why I’m angry? Even with the claim, she’s so clueless!”

Buffy could sense his fury roll off him in waves. With a slight shake of her head, she turned and walked away with her words falling from her lips.

“Bye Spike. I’ll see you around,” With that she disappeared among the tombstones.

As Spike watched her form disappear in the sun, he felt a deep level of fury that he had never felt before. The waves of her disappointment, anger and sorrow filled him to the point of overwhelming torment. Upon the closure of the heavy barrier was the last sound he heard as his demon visage slid forward as he tore apart his new home.

***********



As she tried to keep her mind off of him, Buffy continued her day as scheduled; dinner, shower, TV, patrolling. When Giles picked her up for her nightly Slayer duties, the only words that transpired between them, was Buffy telling him that she wanted to patrol anywhere but Restfield cemetery. With a slight nod and not another word, they headed to another graveyard on the opposite side of Sunnydale, a town away from Restfield.

Several uneventful dustings later, Buffy instructed that she was done for the night. Again submerged in silence, they returned to her home. With quick strides, Buffy made her way back to her residence. Due to feeling all sorts of fury, and her mind being completely occupied, she didn’t hear anyone approach until she was flat on her back, covered with a snarling vamp. More specifically, Spike.

“Slayer, how dare you walk away from me today!” Spike growled as he hovered above her startled form. Within moments, Buffy received her bearings as Spike was thrown from her body. Buffy crouched into a feral stance, as her golden eyes and fangs emerged forward.

“How dare you demand anything from me! Do I need to remind you with my fist and fangs, that I am your mate, and I dare quite a bit!" Buffy seethed as her chest heaved as she tried to control her rage.

Without warning, he lunged. Buffy met his charging form with blows, from both her feet and fists. As the lovers continued to battle, neither one had the upper hand, both equally matched.. Minutes ran together as they bestowed upon one another the anger and hurt that was bottled up inside. Minimal blows landed as they continued to war. At one point, Buffy tried to use a roundhouse kick to the kidneys, Spike anticipated her movement, then grabbed her leg and pushed her away. As Buffy stood several feet away debating her next move, Spike instantly charged forward.

Immediately, she was under his form once more. This time, his fangs in her neck as his erection pressed into her already sodden core. Once his fangs sunk into her tender column of her throat, Buffy instantly stopped fighting, as the waves of pleasure filled her body. The fists that she used a moment ago for pain, clutched at his bleached locks as she held him to her throat.

Within moments, sound of ripping clothes filled the air, as they clawed at one another. Spike’s fangs extracted from her neck, as his bloody mouth met hers. In a flurry, Buffy’s core was exposed and Spike was surging forward into her welcoming heat. Dual gasps filled the night sky, as each felt a sense of completion that had been days in the making.

A myriad of growls and moans of sheer pleasure filled the air, as each sought their completion. Buffy’s back arched as her clit sought more friction, to accompany his fierce thrusts. Understanding his mate’s desires, Spike’s hand snaked down between them, as his talented fingers circled the distended nub. Instantly, the inner walls of her womb squeezed his cock as her body spasmed with her orgasm. Moments later, Spike followed her into the abyss of pleasure.

Each lover clung to one another, as their minds cleared from the pleasure their bodies had demanded. As Spike’s golden eyes gave away to cerulean, his gaze was filled with warmth. No longer did the blue depths' house anger. Buffy’s golden gaze followed suit, as her now green eyes looked upon the man above her. Still intimately connected, her mind rang with an apology that she never knew would


“I’m sorry.” Buffy’s mind was filled with his baritone voice. As her eyes welled with tears, she leaned forward to place a tender kiss upon his swollen lips. Spike begrudgingly extracted himself from his heaven, as he slowly stood. He quickly pulled his denims up, and immediately picked Buffy off the ground. As he lovingly cradled her form to his chest, within moments, her feet were touching the carpet of her bedroom.



The next several hours, each bestowed ultimate pleasure upon one another’s flesh. Sweet whispers, of apologies and devotion, spilled from the lover’s lips. After being completely sated, Buffy’s head was pillowed upon Spike’s muscular chest. As he lovingly stroked her golden locks, Spike spoke.

“Luv, I can’t tell you how sorry I am for being such a pillock these last few days,” Spike explained.

“Well, if pillock means that you were a complete and utter ass, then yeah you were. And yes, I accept your apology,” Buffy chuckled as she placed a chaste kiss upon his alabaster skin. After several beats, she spoke again.

“Without starting another fight, can you now tell me why you were upset?” Buffy asked as her concerned gaze captured his.

“You truly don’t know why?” Spike asked.

“Spike, if I knew I wouldn’t be asking. You are totally having girl logic right now. The female gender is usually the one that expects their partner to know how and why they fucked up, without them saying so. I clearly know your all male, so please enlighten me,” Buffy cooed as she cupped his now ever growing erection in her palm. Spike’s eyes rolled as his lids closed slightly, due to the sheer pleasure of her touch.

After several beats, he spoke. “Fine, I was angry because, well because…. this sharing of feelings things are not natural for me. In the era I was born the people then, made your stuffy Watcher look like a left-wing democratic nudist. Then, the whole vampire premise, well we are not much in sharing anything besides rage and lust,” Spike explained as he shifted.

Buffy sat up as her gaze stared down unto his. As her form moved, the sheet that covered her golden body, pooled around her waist. Spike leaned forward to capture her puckered nipple in his mouth. As he worked at the tip with his teeth and tongue, his thoughts pervaded her mind.

“It hurt that you felt anger and ashamed for what I am. I am a vampire, nothing more. I feed and kill. That is who I am. Please accept me; except me for all my faults and shortcomings. Buffy you are my light in the darkness. Please save me from myself.”

Buffy’s eyes began to well with tears as his thoughts filled her, touching deep within her soul. Her hand wound into his locks, as she spoke.

“You are so much more Spike, so much more. I will always be here to catch you when you fall,” Buffy whispered.

Spike pulled away from her flesh, as his gaze met hers. His hand wound into her golden tresses as her brought her forward for a tender kiss. As the passion ignited between them once again, Spike guided her form beneath his. He slowly entered her heated depths, their gazes never faltering.

Tears that hovered upon her lower lids, spilled down her cheeks as she continued to stare at the man above her. Still remaining within her, Spike stopped his movements. His eyes questioned her sorrow.

“These last few days, they were so hard. I felt so lost, like a ship without a port. No direction, no safe way home. I was so scared that I was losing or had lost you. Yeah, I may have talked tough today, but I wasn’t going to stop haunting you until you gave in. Call me Miss Stalker USA, but that’s the truth,” Buffy whispered as her eyes continued to pour forth salty tears.

“Oh sweetheart, I was such a fool. I would rather walk into the sun than hurt you. You need to believe that. This is all so new to me. What I had mistaken as devotion was just utter blindness. What I had with her pales to what I feel now. Over a hundred years, the only emotion that I’ve ever dealt with was rage and lust. Lust, well, I’ll always feel, especially with you.” Spike punctuated his words with a deep thrust. As he stilled his hips, he continued to speak. “And rage, well that’s easy, it’s it polar opposite that is hard,” Spike explained as his palm rested upon her tear-stained cheek.

“If you let me, I’ll help you with that,” Buffy whispered.

Upon her words, Spike felt his heart expand two fold. As his mouth met hers, he poured all the devotion and passion he felt in every touch.

Unbeknownst to the lovers that lay intertwined with one another, something sinister was transpiring across town.

*******

Angelus’ bulky form trapped another petite blond underneath him as he violated her with both fangs and cock. This woman was among the dozen nameless, faceless substitutes that he had imparted his fury and lust upon. As silent screams filled her eyes and her gagged mouth, Angelus roared his completion. With several violent thrusts, he pulled the last of her life-giving blood from her veins.

As her heart beat for its final time, he pulled himself from her core. Angelus flopped to his back, as he shoved her lifeless body from his bed. Her body thumped to the floor as Angelus lay somewhat sated. As he wiped the lingering blood from his lips, his mind drifted.

“Yet another failed attempt to replace her.” Angelus inwardly growled.

He pulled his naked form from his bed and stormed from his room. He was still filled with fury and lust, and he desperately needed to sate these primal urges. The dead woman that lay in a heap upon his floor was all but fleeting. Within several steady strides, Angelus burst through Drusilla’s chamber doors.

As he entered, Drusilla was feeding from the dead woman’s once companion. As the final heartbeat quivered in his chest, she pulled her fangs from his throat. As she lapped at the remains of blood, her golden eyes darkened at the sight before her.

Angelus strode forward to quell his impulses upon her pale flesh. As she began to meet him half way, her demon receded as her body started to rock back in forth.

“Incoming!” Angelus scoffed as he finally stood before her. When her gaze cleared, Angelus inquired what she had seen.

“Two gypsy moths flittering in the sun…. Clip their wings, clip their wings…. and all will come undone!”

Drusilla continued to sing these nonsensical lyrics as her body wavered as a flame in the wind. Upon realization of what this riddle may unleash, a maniacal smile graced Angelus serrated mouth as his mind filled with the horrors of what is to come.

The next several days Buffy and Spike spent the daylight hours apart; her in the hallowed halls of Sunnydale High, him encased in marble and death, fast asleep inside his crypt. At night, their time was apportioned between patrolling and the pleasures of the flesh. Each time they shared their bodies and blood, their claim strengthened. They were kindred. They’re bond was now the absolute embodiment of mates.

Their connection was not only on a personal level, but ‘professional’ as well. As they patrolled, their minds were linked. Even though they could not hear what the other was thinking per se, but due to their entire beings connected, through feelings and thoughts, each knew the plan of attack without a spoken word. As Buffy and Spike fought against the influx of minions, courtesy of Angelus and Drusilla, their bodies moved in perfect sync. Elimination of fledglings/minions was quick and precise.

After a relatively slow night during patrol, Buffy’s mind dwelled upon a question that had been weighing on her mind for the past week, more so in the past few days. As they patrolled the quiet cemetery, Spike sensed her apprehension and spoke first.

“Spill.”

“Huh?”

“Gratefully I don’t need to breathe, since I’m drownin’ over here under the waves of your feelings pet. So spill,” Spike demanded as he stopped his movements through the sacred grounds. Buffy mirrored his actions. As they stood several feet away from one another, she was unable to meet his gaze, as her focus moved to the frozen earth below her feet.

“Spike, I was wondering, more I was thinking…..do you think…..” Buffy stammered.

“Yeah,” Spike interrupted.

“Yeah?” Buffy questioned.

“Yeah, I do think,” Spike responded with a snarky jest.

“Spike, that’s not what I meant. I mean I know you think. It’s more on the lines of how you think about….stuff.” Buffy’s eyes remained down cast, as she continued to shuffle her boots across ice-covered blades of grass.

“Maybe I’m little slow on the uptake, but I am sure as ‘ell can’t follow you around that bend.” Spike stepped forward and placed the pads of his fingertips under her chin. As he tilted her head toward his, his cerulean gaze fixed upon hers.

“Now sweetheart, tell me what’s plaguin’ your cute littl’ noggin.” Spike could use his bond to enter her mind, but he felt that what she needed to say had to come from her own lips. As his gaze burned deep within her soul, Buffy found the courage to speak.

“Spike, would you….um… like to be my guest at Thanksgiving Dinner?” Buffy inquired, as her eyes remained wide with hope.

As he braced himself for the worst, eyes focused and lips set, his mind was completely blown by what she had just asked him. This was not what he intended to hear. Instantly, a tender smile formed upon his full lips, as he saw her face. His heart melted as he regarded her. His mate. His Buffy. Despite all that transpired between them, she was still hesitant about something as simple as dinner.

“Buffy, it would be my honor to accompany you to dinner.” Upon his declaration, Spike placed a passionate kiss upon her bee-stung lips. As the lovers melted within one another’s arms, off, in the distance, another witnessed their sweet exchange.

Angelus stood in the shadows of a crypt as he watched their interaction. Rage seethed through his veins as he held back his temptation to rush forward, tear him to shreds and take what was his. The only reason why he held his ground was days before Drusilla had presented him a riddle, which he still had yet to solve. He knew that once he decoded her rant, those that stood before him and all the others would pay. Pay with their blood and deaths.

With a mental scoff, Angelus considered his wayward childe. The only benefit for having him accompany them throughout Europe was his talent to decipher Drusilla’s visions and insane conundrums. He also kept her occupied when Angelus was bored with pleasing her with his cock, fist or fangs. In those years, he was a distraction for his insane childe. Even though he was a massive irritation, he was granted countless reprieves due to his ability to handle Drusilla. Now, he was an obstruction. Just a trivial bone and flesh barrier which Angelus would destroy to receive his prize…..her.

As Drusilla’s incoherent, yet insightful, riddle looped continuously in his mind, Angelus continued to observe them intently. As he witnessed their hands and mouths explore one another, Angelus stormed away. Soon. Soon she would be his. Even though thoughts of his wayward childe taking liberties that were not his to partake in filled him with fury, Angelus knew his rage needed to be harnessed. With the memories of his childe with her and Drusilla’s rant pervading Angelus’ mind entirely, he needed a violent kill to purge his torrid mind.

Before long, Angelus’ fangs were deeply embedded in the pristine throat of a young woman, with flaxen hair and a petite frame. Her fear and virginity were a heady mixture that caused his cock to swell and press against his butter soft leather pants. Deep pulls of her blood began to dredge through all the clutter in his mind. As the woman’s heart started to falter, his thoughts then became crystal clear. As her depleted form fell to the hardened ground, the answer finally began to materialize.

Before he was trying to look at this logically, this was entirely the wrong approach. One cannot create logic when none exists. Drusilla spoke in symbolisms not literal facts. This was why Spike could understand her so. He was a poet, or tried to be. Poets write using labyrinths of words and metaphors. Never forth right. Suddenly, the pieces of her puzzle started to fall in place. As his mind translated each word, a diabolical smile began to grace his lips.

Angelus stepped carelessly over the woman’s body as he exited the alleyway. With a renewed sense of purpose and destination, his once forgotten depraved thoughts became fixed again. Fixated upon his prize, her.



*******


The next week passed by uneventfully. Spike became slightly on the edge, since Angelus and Drusilla had been lying low for so long. He knew that they were just biding their time. Like an alligator that remained still in the murky river waters, they just waited for the opportune time to strike fatally. Buffy and her Watcher agreed with Spike’s declarations, but without the firm direction to head, they decided to remain on the defensive not the offensive with Spike strongly felt they should be.

Wednesday night Buffy had foregone patrol, so she could help her mother with preparations for Thanksgiving dinner. As she measured and stirred the makings for a pumpkin pie, Buffy addressed her mom as her gaze held the mixture..

“Mom, I was wondering……well, I’ve been seeing someone, someone very important to me. I was wondering if it was all right, if he could spend dinner with us? He doesn’t have any family around, ummm, since he’s originally from England. So could he?” Buffy's words blurted forward, as her eyes left the bowl and studied her mother’s reaction. After several beats, Joyce spoke.

“If he’s so important to you, why haven’t I heard of him before?”

“Well, he’s older than me, and I thought you would be really mad. So I didn’t want to bring him around until I was sure that we were truly a couple.”

“How much older, Buffy?”

“He’s twenty-two. Please don’t freak, mom. He’s so wonderful. He’s not overbearing and he understands me, the real me. Mom, he’s really special to me. Please don’t give him the third degree when he comes, ok?” Buffy asked as her gaze filled with a shimmer of tears.

The tears that brimmed in her eyes were an example of how easily lies seem to form and pour from her lips; since becoming the Slayer. In addition to her honing her fighting and survival skills, Buffy had mastered the art of lying. Lies about blood stained and/or missing clothes, failing grades and the truth about all things that go ‘bump’ in the night. The biggest lie, which she truly was, The Slayer. All these lies were vital to her calling and existence, since she had already spent time among four padded walls for disclosing the truth.

“Fine, he can come. I have to go to the gallery in the morning, so we won’t be eating until five-ish. Just understand, I don’t exactly approve of being ambushed with a much older boyfriend the night before Thanksgiving young lady. In the future, no more secrets, is this understood?” Joyce stated firmly.

“I promise mom, no future secrets,” Buffy avowed. In her mind she added, past secrets are still safe to keep.

Later that night, after the whispers and stifled expressions of blissful ecstasy, the lovers lay entwined in the sanctity of Buffy’s bed. Spike tenderly stroked her crown of golden tresses, her head pillowed upon his muscular chest. The comfortable silence encased them, as they both basked in the afterglow of their lovemaking. Soon the silence was broken by thoughts of all her loved ones and those that she cared about, which railroaded through Buffy’s mind.

“Mom…Spike….Giles…Willow….Xander….How am I going to protect them? How am I going to defeat Angelus and Drusilla? Will I survive? Will…..”

Within an instant, Buffy’s form was below Spike’s; his cerulean gaze bore into hers. His deep baritone voice filled her mind as he placed a gentle lap upon the twin marks marring her throat.

“Shhh, sweetheart. Don’t think, just feel.”

Instantly, a moan spilled from her parted lips, her back bowed. The rosy tips of her sensitive, peaked nipples pressed into the planes of his alabaster chest.

All coherent thought floated away as his talented mouth, hands and voice filled her completely. As Spike continued to bestow tender and passionate pleasure upon her body and mind, Buffy’s hands grasped at his form seeking more. Always more. Even when he was deep inside her womb and throat, it was never enough. He was never close enough. She needed his essence to survive.

As blinding bliss enwrapped her mind, words formed in her hazy brain. Before Buffy was able to sensor herself, a monumental declaration heralded from her parted lips.

“I love you, Spike.”

Spike’s movements stilled upon her breast, as his heated gaze roamed over features as he searched for her eyes. Upon this encounter, he noticed that her eyes were as large as saucers. Buffy’s mouth was agape as a land bound fish, as he could sense that she searched for the words that could erase and/or explain her declaration. Due to her minds and mouths silence, not a one could be found.

Unable to erase the moment with words, Buffy’s form squirmed as she tried to remove herself from beneath his body. In a flash, Spike had gathered her wrists in one hand as his heated stare bore into her face. His voice stilled her movements as he addressed her.

“What did you just say?”

Incapable of holding his gaze, Buffy turned her face away from his. With his free hand, Spike placed his palm under her chin and brought her face back into his full line of vision.

“What…what did you think I said?” Buffy whispered hesitantly.

“Don’t play games Buffy, tell me what you said!” Spike growled as his demon spilled forward momentarily then retreated. In kind, Buffy’s eyes became golden and her fangs elongated. Her demon façade held as she spoke.

“I told you….I told you that I love you, you ass!” Buffy growled as she pushed his form from hers. Spike’s body was heaved from the mattress, as he now lay stunned and naked upon her bedroom floor. Buffy stood above him, her chest heaved as she stood in the middle of the room.

Lightning-quick, Spike stood before her in full game face. His demon clawed at his mind to control her, make her heed. In his mind, conflict arose, as the man demanded gentleness. Spike placed his hand tenderly upon her cheek. Instantly, soft purrs flowed from her chest as she leaned into his touch. Before Spike spoke, his demon receded.

“I love you, Buffy, with all that I am and all that I could ever be. My entire undead life, I thought I knew and understood my purpose for becoming a vampire. That was until I encountered you. All that was before were mere shadows to the light that now fills my world. Never before have I experienced devotion to another that can be filled with only pleasure, not pain. Despite all one’s shortcomings and downfalls, there can be someone that will behold you as perfect. You are my destiny,” Spike’s words wrapped around her rapidly beating heart and squeezed.

Tears welled, as she lovingly gazed upon the majestic man before her. His exquisite marmoreal flesh was bathed in the moonlight as the ebony pupils of his eyes swallowed the fair irises until only a small sliver of blue remained. Within moments, his arms and chest engulfed Buffy as her head rested upon his chest. Spike placed a tender chaste kiss upon her crown as her tears streaked down his flesh.

“Shhh….don’t cry kitten.” With those words, Spike swept her legs from under her and carried her to her bed. Gently, he placed her upon the cooling sheets as he momentarily stood above her, talented hand slowly stroking her inner thigh.

“Beautiful.” Flowed through Buffy’s mind as she revered her mate above her.

“I think I’m more of a handsome bloke, but I’ll take it as a complement,” Spike purred as a lascivious grin graced his full lips.

Buffy outstretched her arms, as she welcomed her mate to her form. Spike moved slowly, but surely, as his flesh met hers. Momentarily, his chest hovered above hers as he held her gaze. Within one fluid motion, he was seated fully inside her welcoming core.

As her limbs held him close, their hips slowly moved together. Each sought comfort and passion that only the other could provide. Fluid as the currents in a summer stream, their declarations of love and their bodies moved as one as they sought ecstasy.

On the precipice of her climax, Buffy slid her fangs into the column of his pale neck. Despite his attempts to starve off his orgasm, once her fangs penetrated his throat, nothing could hold back the roar of his completion. Instantly, Spike’s demon burst forward, as his serrated fangs entered his marks.

The tempo of his hips started to slow, as they continued to sip from the chalice of their lover’s throat. Each mind was filled with their beloved’s declarations of love. After several moments of basking in sheer bliss, both pulled their fangs from one another, their raspy tongues bestowed attention upon the small weeping wounds. Begrudgingly, Spike then pulled from her heated depths as he rolled to the side, simultaneously bringing her pliant form to drape across his body.

Within moments, Buffy fell into a peaceful sleep as she held her mate’s body close to hers. As he listened to the tattoo of her slow and even breaths, Spike soon followed.


*****

The following evening at 5 p.m. exactly, the doorbell chimed announcing Spike’s arrival. Despite her inhuman strength and speed, Joyce beat her to the door within several strides. Buffy stood behind her mother, the now opened door revealing her mate.

Upon the threshold stood Spike or a mother friendly version of thereof. His typically slicked back bleached locks, were slightly mussed in fashionable disarray. His characteristic black on black was traded for a Spike’s version of Gap. Khaki pants donned his athletic legs. Tucked into the waistband was his classic black tee shirt, but surrounding the ebony fabric was an azure button down shirt, which brought out the starkness of his alabaster skin and his mesmerizing, boundless Caribbean ocean gaze. A waist length soft brown leather coat completed the outfit.

A soothing, almost shy smile graced his full lips as he held out a small bouquet of daisies. Both women were speechless, staring at the breathtaking man who stood upon their porch. Only his rich baritone broke through their unmoving stares.

“Good evening ladies. This is a small token to you Mrs. Summers for allowing me to enter your lovely home and share the holiday with you both.”

Joyce blinked quickly, trying to figure out the man that stood before her. Quickly, she removed the flowers from his grasp. Still stone silent, Buffy rushed forward and placed her arm into the crux of his elbow. Buffy urged Spike to enter, placing a soft tender kiss upon his cheek. Several beats later, she spoke.

“Mom, this is S….” Buffy’s words were cut off as he held his hand out to Joyce’s.

“A pleasure to meet you Mrs. Summers. My name is William, William Pratt.” As he placed his hand into hers, Joyce’s gaze faltered as a sweet smile donned her lips.

“It is all my pleasure to finally meet you William. I unfortunately only heard of you yesterday, but no doubt my curiosity has been piqued since,” Joyce stated, her gaze struck upon Buffy briefly as she spoke.

“Well, I have to say that it was my fault. I assure you, Buffy wanted to tell you earlier about me, I just didn’t know how my age would be received. I’m glad that it’s not an issue,” Spike stated, as his typical cockney accent was gone, replaced by a formal cultured English accent.

Buffy stared at her mate, as she was filled with a renewed desire. Spike could feel the waves of her arousal, splash upon his flesh and attempt to pull him under. He held firm, not to give into his desire, as he continued to speak to Joyce.

“I wouldn’t exactly say it’s not an issue William. You are far too old for a sixteen years old girl. My question is, why would a clearly educated young man want with a girl?” Joyce asked as her arms snaked upon her chest. Clearly, a learned Summers’ posture that Buffy had mentored and utilized many times before.

“Mom!” Buffy yelped as her wide eyes beheld her clearly angered mom.

“Mrs. Summers, I assure you, my motives are pure. Buffy is wise beyond her years, and I clearly follow her lead in this relationship.”

Buffy held a slight chuckle as the memories of their relationship flashed in her mind, the first night in the warehouse, the lawn, her bedroom. She was definitely in the lead there.

Spike gently pulled from her grasp, as he was also bombarded with her memories. As Joyce continued to study her daughter’s boyfriend, her resolve started quickly to melt upon his next statement.

“Mrs. Summers, if you feel that I am not worthy of your daughter’s affections, then I will leave your home immediately. I’m sorry for my intrusion,” With a slight nod of his head, Spike turned to leave the doorway. Buffy’s eyes widened at this, before she could speak, Joyce’s voice rang out.

“William, please. Please, come and join us for dinner. I may not approve of the substantial age difference between you and my daughter, but that is an issue that cannot be changed. I admire your honesty and respect,” Joyce stated as she motioned toward the dining room.

Spike smiled again as he walked slowly toward the dining table. Joyce followed, leaving a slightly lust-riddled, slightly confused Buffy in their wake.

The rest of the dinner passed with no further issues. In fact, Buffy watched with fondness at how well and how much Spike and his mother enjoyed one another’s company. They discussed art throughout the decades, and each artist. Spike spoke about his home in England, but put a modern spin upon his tales.

Throughout the dinner, Spike’s thigh would randomly meet Buffy’s under the table. Despite the mild and cheerful conversations that transpired between him and her mother, lascivious and erotic visions filled her head, sent courtesy of Spike’s mind.

At one point, after dinner was finished, but dessert was yet to be presented, Spike sent a deviously nasty flash to her.

Buffy was splayed across the dining room table, completely bare except for small dollops of whipped cream strategically placed upon her form. Spike stood before her, his full, proud erection jutting from his muscular body. In a flash, with a wicked flick of his talented tongue, he was feasting upon amass of dairy that lay upon her core.

Buffy extracted her thigh from his, with a sudden jerk that caused flatware and china to rock upon the table. Quick rambles fell from her mouth as she tried to excuse herself from the table, pushing her shaking form from her chair.

“Pie! I so want pie! Mom, pie? I’m going to get the pie. Yeah, and some whipped cream. That sounds good, pie with whipped cream. So I’m going….going to get the pie….” With that, Buffy fled from the room, two confused people in her wake.

“I think she wants pie,” Spike jested as he stuffed down the chuckle that lingered in his throat. With a slight nod and shoulder shrug, Joyce agreed.

Once Buffy could calm her raging lust, she returned to the table with pie, no whipped cream. She couldn’t bear bringing this sweet mixture into the dining room without begging Spike to make his vision a reality. After dessert was eaten and the trio worked together to clean the table from dinner, Spike announced his departure.

As the ladies walked him to the front door, a woman upon either arm, each announced how pleasant the evening was. Buffy mentally scolded Spike for being ‘naughty',’ and that he would ‘pay’ later. Spike’s retort was typical, ‘bring it on.’

With a handshake from Joyce, she turned and left the two alone as she headed back into the kitchen. Both knowing that her mother’s ears and eyes were not far behind, Buffy thanked ‘William’ for a wonderful evening, and that she would call him tomorrow.

In her mind, she told Spike to give her two hours with her mom, and then she’d meet her in her room. She also added that he should be prepared for his ‘punishment’. As the ebony of his pupils engulfed the blue, he pulled back his desire as he placed a chaste kiss tenderly upon her cheek. Within moments, Spike was gone.

While tidying the kitchen, the women discussed ‘William’. Buffy was pleased that Joyce was truly smitten with him, and she would like to have him over again. Once the mess was cleared, Buffy announced that she was tired and needed sleep.

With a few moments to spare, Buffy hurried to her room to greet her mate. As she rushed into the darkness of her room, she was greeted by a gorgeously nude man, fully aroused, with a large can of whipped cream in his hand. As he slowly shook the container, a mischievous smile graced her full lips, as she quietly closed and locked her bedroom door.

The following day, the winter sun hung listlessly in the dismal sky, Buffy’s Tigger-like strides contrasted sharply with the forlorn picture painted before her. Surrounding her jovial form, lay miles of granite markers, in which all signified the end of one’s life. Each in different stages of, for all sorts of reasons, but the fact remained, this consecrated earth was their final resting place. No matter, at this moment nothing could eradicate the smile that permeated her features or the optimistic frame of mind that she held.

As her strides met with the frozen ground, her anticipation and sheer giddiness bubbled forth. Donned only in a black, leather, thigh-length coat, come “fuck-me boots”, and a Cheshire cat grin, her sites remained clear. Her mate.

This morning as she awoke following a blissful evening of intense bouts of lovemaking, she entered into the realm of consciousness, alone. Her mind clearly understood why Spike was no longer in her bed or arms. The sun, one of the several demises for a vampire, was the culprit. Every morning the deadly ball of flames and gases chased her mate into the dark recesses of the world. He was cursed forever never to feel the wonderful warm rays upon his marmoreal skin. Buffy avowed that she would be his light. She would be what fed and nurtured him. She would be his sun.

Every morning as she awoke, the three facets of her being, woman, Slayer and vampire mourned the travesty of separation that was forced upon them due to reasons beyond their control. Despite all of them, their connection intensified and flourished.

In the distance, the rigid walls of marble appeared to erupt from the solid hallowed ground. Despite the original purpose for the construction of this house for the dead, Buffy believed that the man that called this entombment his home, possessed more life than most beings that housed beating hearts inside their chests.

Buffy’s gait stopped as she stood upon the threshold of the stone barrier that separated her from her mate. With a deep cleansing breath to slow her rapid heartbeat, Buffy entered the frigid mausoleum with feather-like steps. A combination of anticipation, lust and the stagnant cold air, the leather that covered her bare flesh did not shield her, as her rosy-peaks pebbled against the butter-soft fabric.

The darkness encased her form as she quietly closed the heavy stone door and entered into the depths of the crypt. Once her gaze focused to the murkiness, Buffy spied Spike’s glorious form upon the sarcophagus. He appeared to be a sacrifice for Eros, the Greek primordial god of love, sex, and pleasure.

As she approached his supine form, Buffy licked her cherry-glossed lips with fervor. The halo of bleached locks was a stark contrast to the obsidian leather pillowed against his alabaster sculpted cheek. Lids fringed with lengthy inky lashes hid his expressive, mesmerizing cerulean eyes. His full lips parted and slightly lifted on the edges, as if the dreams that filled his sharp mind were pleasurable to him.

Buffy’s hungry gape continued down as she salivated slightly from the full exposure of his flawless marmoreal chest. Despite over a hundred years ago, when the final life’s breath seeped from his lungs, he still retained the guise of breathing. Buffy noticed that it increased when he fought, when they fucked, or anytime when his emotions were high and rampaged through him.

It appeared that the man that resided inside didn’t want to let the beast extinguish him completely. Her Spike was a total enigma. Loyal to a fault. Compassionate among the merciless. Tender among the callous. A man among demons. Buffy was fully aware of his past, she wasn’t blind to it. History set aside, even without a soul, he could be more of a human than most whom claim to be. Buffy believed that with time, Hades would release his soul from Tartarus, allow him to navigate the turbulent river of Acheron, in an attempt to locate his Elysian Fields. She intended to be his beacon in the treacherous waters. With her love, she believed he would be saved.

Buffy blinked heavily as she tried to clear the intense thoughts permeating her mind. These thoughts were not conducive to seduction. As her heated gaze settled upon the impressive bulge housed under the shabby blanket covering his midsection, desire blossomed anew.

With eager and agile fingers, Buffy gradually exposed his creamy flesh to her heated gaze. A low sigh, seeped from his parted lips, but he didn’t wake. The white tips of her teeth bit into her lush lower lip as the blackness of her pupils devoured her irises until only the cusps of the green remained. Buffy was instantly greeted with flesh encased steel, as his cock proudly protruded from the thatch of dark curls.

Buffy slowly leaned forward as the rosy tip of her tongue snaked out from the confines of her lips. Within moments, the eager muscle languorously ascended to his rigid cock, base to tip. Upon reaching the bulbous head, the talented muscle encompassed him with several passes. Steady groans erupted from his chest, as his body shifted slightly. Unable to control her lust, Buffy’s fist enveloped his erection as her scorching mouth engulfed him. Spike’s eyes bulged wide, as her heat enveloped him. Low purrs emitted from deep within his chest, as his hazy gaze beheld his mate, and her pleasurable actions.

After several ascents and descents, Buffy’s heated gaze shifted to her lover’s face. Brilliant gazes met as his unfocused stare bore into hers. Spike’s arm slowly rose from the marble, his palm itching to be filled with golden locks. Within an instant, a slight ‘pop’ sounded as she released his cock. With a wicked grin, Buffy ‘tsked’ him, and then she spoke, voice thick with lust.

“No touching. I still need to punish you for all the wicked thoughts you sent to me during dinner. Now be a good boy and let me play.”

As her lust-riddled words seeped into his hazy mind, Spike attempted to comment, until her mouth encircled him once more. His words died upon his lips, as a low growl filled the room. With a tedious pace, Buffy continued to work at him with her eager mouth and fist. In addition, her other hand fondled his heavy sac, with pleasurable tugs and strokes. Spike’s hips lifted in sync with her movements, as he felt the endless abyss of his climax promising to consume him.

Buffy felt Spike’s body prepare for his climax; sac tightened, hips seeking a faster tempo, marble crumbling under his fists as he held on tightly. Instantly, her movements stilled as she withdrew from him completely. Blurry blues sought her as the cold air of the crypt replaced the sweltering heat of her mouth.

Instantly, his gaze met hers, his cock was sheathed with liquid fire, as her womb swallowed him whole. An inhuman thunderous roar reverberated throughout the stone confines, as Spike’s demon bellowed forth. With a reciprocated snarl, Buffy golden eyes and serrated fangs emerged, bestowing sheer bliss upon him, as her hips rose and fell upon his cock.

Without breaking her torturous pace, Buffy released the sash of her leather coat, as she exposed her bare form to his golden gaze. Her muscular thighs clenched and released his slender hips; her eager hands sought her own heated flesh. Nimble fingers plucked her erect peaks, and in conjunction, snaked between her thighs strumming her glistening pearl.

Buffy’s orgasm crested as she continued to torture her love with enforcing the ‘no touch’ command. Each time his thoughts emerged to grasp her flesh a small warning growl would erupt from deep within her chest. After several punishing, exquisite strides upon his cock, Buffy’s lips parted as a pleasurable shrill erupted from her throat.

Liquid fire rushed forward from her core and coated him completely. Spike’s possessed howl reverberated off the marble tomb, as his climax roared deep within his being. Spike’s hips rose to meet her brutal pace, within moments, ropes of his dead seed fusilladed, coating her womb entirely. Despite his completion, Spike continued to fuel Buffy’s movements as she sought another orgasm. As her heated inner walls fluttered around his cock, he knew that she only required a little more, to have another petite mort.

Mind clear, without warning, Spike jackknifed his upper body, as he wrapped his muscular arms around her petite frame. Instantly, his fangs pierced Buffy’s right breast. With long hungry draws, he pulled her robust blood deep within his mouth. As the life-giving ambrosia flowed down his throat, Buffy’s orgasm tore through her body, as her piercing growls rumbled throughout the room.

The lover's pace continued to slow, as Buffy loving encased Spike within her arms. Spike extracted his fangs slowly, after several lengthy licks to close the wound, nestled his head to her breast. They lay entwined for several moments, as vows of love and devotion flowed between each other’s minds.

Tenderly, Spike extracted his head from her chest, placing a tender kiss upon her full lips. Spike barred his throat to his mate. His demon reveled in the concept of this beautiful woman partaking in the vital fluid that had bound them together for eternity.

Buffy leisurely ran her tongue over the two puckered marks that graced his throat. Instantly, her core was filled once more with his heavy erection. Razor-sharp fangs slid deep within his alabaster throat. His wound bought forth-intoxicating blood, which filled her mouth, coated her throat and consumed her mind. After several profound pulls, Buffy tenderly extracted her fangs. Still intimately connected, Spike placed his back upon the sarcophagus.

Spike gently stroked her golden tresses, placing several chaste kisses upon her crown. Within moments, Buffy’s breathing slowed as Hypnos carried her to the land of sleep. Gathering the worn blanket around their forms, Spike joined his Truelove in blissful unconsciousness.

Hours later, Buffy awoke upon her mate’s chest. Begrudgingly, she separated from him and prepared to leave. After several soft and loving words were exchanged, and Spike’s assurance that once the sun dipped below the horizon, ‘William’ would be calling on her again, Buffy exited the crypt and headed homeward.

Once the stone barrier obstructed the sun’s deadly rays, Spike pulled himself from his marble ‘bed’. Slowly placing his worn, black jeans upon his legs, a smile framed his full lips as his mind filled with the events of the day. The sex, and the sheer fact that they could express their pleasure and love in complete and total abandon was divine.

Spike’s smile grew tenfold when he remembered Buffy ecstatically announced her mother was leaving town next week, and they would be able to worship each other completely, in the warm confines of her bed. Thoughts of these days filled his mind, as he awaited his jailor, the sun, to grant him his reprieve.

Within no time, Sunday night arrived. Just one more night of hidden passions and stifled expressions of pleasure, then they would be able to unleash their fervor upon the world that existed within each other’s arms. The evening was filled with the trio; Buffy, Joyce and ‘William’ enjoying a marathon of Passions. Loud verbal protests of Buffy’s were ignored, as ‘William’ and Joyce excitedly chattered about the characters and plots that surrounded Harmony, the hamlet in New England that housed the craziness that ensued.

Once the three-hour marathon came to a close, ‘William’ bid his goodbyes and left. An hour later, Buffy’s shod feet stomped upon the frozen earth, after she escaped her bedroom to meet Spike for patrol. Despite their earlier findings, all was quiet on the fledgling/minion front tonight.

Spike uneasiness was declared, when with a deep rumble, he announced to Buffy that ‘Something Wicked This Way Comes’. In response, she placed a chaste kiss upon his down-turned, full lips, as she imagined several erotic positions they had yet to try. As they flashed within his mind, instantly, all negative thoughts were dismissed.

Unexpectedly, Buffy’s heated form was pressed against the frigid stone of a nearby crypt, as Spike’s talented mouth upon hers. Instantly, her toned legs splayed and wrapped tightly around his waist, as each sought pleasure from the other, the outside world fell away.


*******


Within the walls of the mansion and his mind, Angelus’ plan had ripened and harvest time was upon them. All the aspects of his plan had been worked through completely. No margin of error granted nor accepted. Instructions were given and deadly vows of fates worse than death, bestowed upon all those that were involved.

With a final lust-filled kiss, Drusilla and Angelus headed out separately, into the night. Each with their own agendas and tasks lie before them. Angelus gait was leisurely, but purposeful as Drusilla’s earlier insane enigma, which his mind had translated into sane words, floated throughout his mind.


Two gypsy moths flittering in the sun…..clip their wings….clip their wings…..and all will come undone!



Within the hour, excitedly, Drusilla’s lay in wait by a small basement apartment on the ‘shady’ side of Sunnydale. With a thorough lick of her serrated fangs, the giggles and whispers of fairies filled her mind. They sang out the name and fate of whom Drusilla was waiting for. Their voices scattered, as a middle-aged man, made his way with quick clips, towards the apartment that she hovered by. Before he could enter, Drusilla’s soft, melodically voice floated upon the chilly air, as she called in Romanian to the gentleman.

“Enios unchiul tu esti?” (1) Quickly the man turned, as Drusilla roared and sank her fangs deep within his otherwise pristine throat. Within moments, his heart faltered as his life’s blood was drained completely by the woman upon his neck. Once his heart stopped its function, Drusilla carelessly released his lifeless corpse. With a heavy and distinct thud, he fell upon the cold sidewalk. A tinkle of insane laughter bubbled forth from her blood-coated throat, as Drusilla started to chant upwards to the star and moon filled sky, a piece of the conundrum that she had bestowed upon Angelus.


Clip their wings…..clip their wings!



As she sang, Drusilla extracted a small, glass vile from the bodice of her crimson velvet dress. In addition to her voice, her body joined the celebration, as she begins to sprinkle upon his lifeless form a parting gift. Upon completion, she stepped over his prone form and stalked away into the night.


Across town, with an invitation inlaid in a stone arch above his head, “Formatia trans sicere educatorum”(2), Angelus leisurely crossed the threshold of the front entrance of Sunnydale High. His demon emerged, a feral grin graced his lips. The essence of his intended victim filled his nose, traveled down his throat, lingered in his lungs, as he became hard from the thrill of what was to come. The thunderous sound of his footsteps fell upon the empty hallways, accompanied the strong heartbeat that filled his ears.

After several moments, Angelus entered the room that housed his prey. As the soft glow of the computer illuminated his prey’s features, his demon roared for blood and death. After a brief exchange of her frightened and his ominous words, Angelus was through playing. With a lunge, the chase was on.

Throughout the halls, she ran in an attempt to escape her destined fate. After several moments of cat and mouse, Angelus attacked. Assailant and victim exchanged final words before Angelus placed his palms upon her cheeks, and with a swift shift, severed her spine. As Jenny’s body fell listlessly upon the floor, Angelus’ supercilious voice rang out.


Clip their wings!


As Drusilla had done, he extracted a vile from his leather jacket. Angelus, less ceremonious than she, scattered the contents upon Jenny’s dead body. Once the act was complete, with a cheerful whistle upon his lips, he exited the school in search for his evening’s meal.






(1) Uncle Enios is that you?

(2) Enter all ye who seek knowledge

In the pre-dawn hours, Spike pulled his bare form from his lover’s grasp, hearing Joyce prepare to depart on her business trip. Waiting within the confines of the closet, Joyce entered Buffy’s room, placed a gentle kiss upon her brow, whispered her love and left quietly. Once Spike heard the SUV depart from Revello Drive, he slid back between the warm sheets and pulled his mate’s sleeping form into his arms. A soft murmur of ‘I love you’ spilled from her slack lips, Spike responded in kind, placing a tender kiss upon her golden crown.

As the lovers hovered in the realm between consciousness and sleep, the loud shrill of the telephone sounded through the quiet room. Buffy’s palm sought the bringer of annoyance. After several passes, her hand connected with the receiver. Clumsily, she placed the phone to her ear, and with a groggy, ‘hello’ she was greeted with a recorded announcement. Principal Snyder’s voice declared school was canceled today and tomorrow due to a ‘School District emergency’. A wide grin graced Buffy’s lips as she disconnected the call mid rant. “No school for the next two days” was all that she needed to know. Within moments, Buffy resumed her position upon Spike’s alabaster chest. Soft puffs of warm breath fell on his flesh, as she reentered the realm of sleep.

The pair was still wrapped in the cocoon of slumber, when the phone rang yet again, signaling someone was eager to reach Buffy. As before, despite some failed attempts, Buffy reached the phone. Another groggy, ‘hello’ sounded from her scratchy throat. In sharp contrast to her last phone call several hours before, the caller’s voice was melancholy, with short burst of sobs that resounded from her throat. Buffy’s mind cleared instantly as she sat up to further the conversation with the caller.

“Will, what’s wrong?” Buffy asked with a soft, but firm tone. After several moments, Willow answered.

“Buffy, Miss Calendar’s dead!” After her declaration, another burst of sobs floated from the receiver.

As this information slowly seeped into her mind, Buffy remained speechless. Due to the waves of sadness and fury that rolled off his mate, Spike was mentally shaken awake. He tenderly placed his arms around Buffy’s midsection, offering his body for comfort and strength. The comfort of his muscular arms and his thoughts surrounding her, she found the strength to continue.

“What happened?”

“It was all over the news! Two people were found dead this morning. Police are calling both homicides. One was a late 20’s woman who had a tragic fall in the halls of Sunnydale High. The other was a middle-aged man that suffered an animal attack near his apartment. The police stated that it was suspicious due to a similar object that was left behind with the bodies,” Willow explained in between her sniffles.

“Willow, how do you know that it was Miss Calendar? It could be anyone else…..” Buffy asked. Before she could finish her question, Willow interrupted with a muffled sob.

“I hacked my way into the police database! There wasn’t much there, but both victim’s names were. Jenny’s was one of them!” Willow announced as her sobs transformed into wails.

“Willow, stay there, I’m coming over!” With that announcement, Buffy disconnected the call and extracted her naked form from her lover’s arms.

Mindlessly, Buffy paced the room, unclear where to begin. Spike pulled himself from bed and stood before her. Unaware of his presence, Buffy collided solidly with his chest. As her tear filled stare met his, Spike wrapped her within his arms. Hot trails of tears spilled upon his tepid chest, her body shook with grief. With gentle words and kisses, Spike attempted to comfort her. After several minutes, Buffy pulled from his chest, but remained in his arms. Concern laced Spike’s words as he spoke.

“Jenny? Was that your Watcher’s bird? The Gypsy?”

“Yeah,” Buffy replied solemnly.

“Does he know?” Spike inquired. Upon his inquiry, Buffy’s teary eyes widened. As she pulled from his arms, she started to place strewn clothing haphazardly upon her body.

“Oh, my god! Giles! How could I have forgotten about Giles! She was his……I don’t know if he knows! Spike, we need….” Her sentence stopped mid stream as he remained before her. With all the compassion and understanding muster, he spoke.

“Buffy, go be with your friends, your Watcher. They need you now. I’ll lay low until Mr. Sun checks out, and then I’ll meet you at your Watcher’s flat. Go. Don’t worry about me, I’m a big boy,” With a tender kiss upon her lips, Spike handed Buffy her leather jacket.

Buffy looked upon her mate with utter love and devotion, before she nodded her head slowly. After another deeper kiss upon his full lips, Buffy exited her bedroom. Within moments, he heard front door close, heralding her departure.

After she left, Spike crawled back into the still warm sheets of his mate’s bed. His mind churned with what had transpired, a heavy dread formed deep in the pit of his stomach. Without further knowledge, he knew the inevitable had come to pass, ‘Something Wicked This Way Comes’. Something wicked, in the form of Angelus and Drusilla.


** ****


The rest of the day was a blur of tears and hundreds of questions. As soon as Buffy left her home, she headed toward Willow’s. After each sought comfort in one another’s arms, they headed towards Giles’. Along the way, Xander met up with them. The trio hovered in the courtyard of his apartment for an endless amount of time before enough strength was gathered to enter. With a soft knock, Buffy tentatively announced their presence. After several moments, with no answer, they entered.

The entire apartment was dark, with an ominous feeling throughout. A faint tick of a clock was the only sound that emanated from the darkness. Buffy called out to Giles several times before a soft sob was heard from above. As Xander and Willow remained below, Buffy slowly ascended the stairs towards his room. Upon his bed, Giles laid still, only the rapid falls of his chest announced life. With weary, reddened eyes, Giles looked upon Buffy as she hovered motionless in his doorway. A deep raspy voice sounded “Buffy?” before she moved forward into his embrace. Each held on tightly as their tears and sobs intermingled.

Once all the tears dried, Giles and Buffy headed downstairs. A tender hug from both Willow and Xander were the only acknowledgement that Giles accepted before he spoke.

“Buffy, it is imperative that Angelus and Drusilla are stopped! These deaths were the work of this sadistic duo and no more shall fall from their hands!” Giles seethed as his fist met with his wooden desk. Books, papers and other items shook upon the surface from his fury. Bravely, Buffy questioned his command.

“Giles how do we know…..” Buffy inquired. Her voice was interrupted midway by Giles glare and retort.

“That man had his throat torn out! Jenny…..my sweet Jenny, her spine was severed. Snyder and the police are claiming that she fell down a flight of stairs! They found her in the middle of a hallway, nowhere near a staircase!

“But Giles….” Buffy continued.

“Buffy either you do your job as the Slayer, or I will. Either way, they will die tonight,” Giles spoke with a voice that chilled Buffy to the core. Buffy and Giles’ gazes held firm as a battle of wills transpired. After several moments, Willow’s shaky voice broke through the thick silence.

“Giles, how do you know about…..” Unable to finish her thought, Giles was pulled from his stare with his Slayer.

“I have a friend at the Sunnydale’s Coroner’s department. He informed me of this information. He also told me something else that is quite disturbing and perplexing. Around each body were a dozen of wingless moths. No one has an idea why, not even the police,” Giles explained as his saddened azure eyes studied Willow.

“Giles, what kind of moths were they?” Buffy inquired.

“Buffy, I don’t see how this has any relevance to their deaths,” Giles scoffed.

“Giles!” Buffy barked.

“They were Lymantria disparmoths. Commonly known as…..” Before Giles could finish his sentence, Buffy spoke.

“Gypsy moths,” Buffy announced.

“What does that mean?” Xander questioned.

“It means Angelus and Drusilla die tonight!” Buffy avowed as she stormed out into the newly darkened night.


*** ***


Buffy’s determined strides fell heavily upon the frozen ground as she traveled back to her home to gear up and gather Spike. As Buffy stormed through the playground near her home, her Slayer and vamp senses picked up another vamp close by. She distinctly knew that this was a Master vampire. Since she knew it wasn’t Spike, only two more guesses remained. Before Buffy could zero in on the location of said vampire, a cynical voice rang through the once silent night.

“Good evening, Buff,” Angelus purred as he slowly stalked out from behind a nearby tree.

“Angel or is it Angelus? I’ve always been amazed that everyone, including myself, has followed this Jekyll and Hyde charade that you’ve established between the soul and non-soul having sides of yourself, quite pretentious, if you ask me. Well, whoever you are, I’ve been looking to ‘talk’ with you for some time. For someone that claims that he’s such a bad ass, you’ve been quite scarce!” Buffy snapped as she firmly stood her ground.

“I’m flattered that thoughts of me have occupied so many of your nights. I wonder what Willie would think of your naughty thoughts of his grandsire?” Angelus purred as he stopped less than twenty feet away from her rigid form.

“Piss off!” Buffy snarled as her fangs descended golden eyes full of fire and fury.

“Tsk, Tsk, such a filthy mouth for a once virginal girl. Well, that was until your virtue was sullied by an inferior vamp,” Angelus growled.

Buffy ignored his tasteless statement in regard to her once virginity and her mate’s manhood. With a roar, she responded in kind.

“Filthy is how you savagely killed Miss. Calendar!”

“Pity you’re not appreciative of the Arts. She was my tribute to Dali’s La Cara de la Guerra (1). I believe how I situated her head just so, made my work simply breathtaking. Dru, you have a better eye for Surrealism, what’s your opinion?” Angelus inquired as his gaze wandered over Buffy’s left shoulder.

Instantly, Buffy turned sideways, in order to maintain a line of vision on both Master vamps. Approximately, thirty feet away, a slender woman, dressed in crushed velvet, blood red sheath stood. Long-flowing raven hair spilled over her shoulders and down her back, which was a stark contrast to the fine porcelain skin and large, expressive, turquoise eyes, which were trained steadily upon her. Full crimson lips broke into a feral smile, which disappeared once her hypnotic voice filled the night.

“This is the golden-haired siren whose song has caused my men to crash upon the rocks?” Drusilla hissed as her once beautiful features contorted, as her demon slid forward.

“Oh, oh! Looks like you’ve made her mad! This situation doesn’t look good for our heroine faithful viewers!” Angelus mocked brashly, as his own demon visage shifted forward.

“Zap, zap…take a nap….zap, zap…..take a nap!” Drusilla began to chant as her hands mimed as if she held an object in her talon tipped hands, as she thrust it towards Buffy.

“Damn! You are two tacos short of a combo platter! When everyone said you were whacked, I just thought they were exaggerating, I was so wrong! Actually, forget the whole combo, you’re short the whole fucking order!” Buffy snickered as she attempted to inconspicuously move away from them. Buffy continued to rant as her feet moved gradually backwards.

“I really have a new found respect for Spike, since he chose to stay with you for over a hundred years!” Buffy bellowed as her gaze moved from one master vamp to the other.


Across town, Spike made his way down the Summers’ walkway, his lithe form was overwhelmed with a myriad of emotions, Buffy’s emotions. Fury, bewilderment, with a hearty dose of fear, saturated his senses. Instantly, Spike knew that his mate was in trouble. Like a predator on the hunt for his prey, Spike shifted into his demon visage, raised his nose to the wind in order to locate her. As soon as his dead lungs were filled with her essence, he took flight. Heavy Doc Martens pounded the pavement, as his leather ‘second skin’ whipped through the breeze left behind him.

Spike’s form moved quickly throughout the streets of Sunnydale. He could sense his mate less than several miles away. Within moments, he spied before him two brawny, male vamps set to attack. Reluctantly, Spike’s gait slowed. As his golden, hardened gaze bore into the minions before him, he growled his response to them.

“It be in your best undusty interest mates, to step aside. It is not to wise to stand between a Master vamp and his mate!”

Despite his warning, the vamps held their ground. In addition, two more minions slid from the confines of the shadows and flanked Spike’s form. In conjunction to formulating a plan, Spike deep baritone voice taunted those before him.

“Ah, I see my grandsire has sent out the welcome wagon! We could compare wrinkles if you would like, but I’ve got to go see about a girl and nothing is going to stop me!” Spike roared.

As his voice still rung in the wintry air, Spike’s roundhouse kick connected with the glass jaw of the vampire that once stood before him. In a flurry of motion, the battle began. Spike’s demon relished in the brawl, as fist and fang, joined the fray. Three more minions seeped into the spots that once held their comrades as Spike’s deadly accuracy dusted and pummeled them.

Despite the flawless precision of his movements, Spike received crushing blows in return. Growls, curses and vows filled the air as the fray continued. Above the constant noise of battle, a slight hum broke through. In his peripheral vision, Spike witnessed blue sparks dance between two metal prongs. Before he could react, volts of electricity surged through his body.

A wounded roar poured from his lips as his nostrils were pervaded with the overwhelming scent of burnt flesh that emanated from his throat. Spike’s legs buckled underneath his form, his knees crashed to the pavement. As he hovered in the realm of unconsciousness, the steady drone of electricity filled his ears as the currents licked his throat again. Before the onyx abyss swallowed him whole, the only word that fluttered from his lips was but one, Buffy.



Buffy’s eyes slammed closed as pain and confusion pervaded her mind entirely. These feelings were not her own. As bile rose into her throat, she knew whose they were, Spike’s. Her rage bubbled forward as the notion of her mate being in trouble, engrossed her. The only sound she could hear was the heavy tattoo of her heart pounding within her chest. Within moments, another voice stormed the walls of her inner sanctum.

“Zap, zap….take a nap…..zap, zap….take a nap!” Drusilla continued her song as her body swayed as a flame caught within the wind.

“Why are you saying that you crazy bitch?” Buffy roared as her fury consumed her totally. In an instant, she turned to face off with the insane woman before her.

“Nighty….night,” Drusilla cooed as she waved her talon tipped fingers towards her.

“What the……” Immediately, Buffy’s was consumed with volts of electricity, as her body jerked with the currents that licked each molecule within her being. The edges of oblivion curled inwards, her body crashed upon the frozen earth. Heavy pants filled her lungs and Drusilla stalked closer.

Drusilla stood above Buffy as she sneered grabbing a fist-full of golden locks she began dragging her towards Angelus. With a high-pitched shrill, Drusilla commanded.

“Do it again Daddy! Do it again!”

Buffy’s lids fluttered as she fought against the darkness. With a hazy, unfocused gaze, Buffy witnessed Angelus stalk closer to them. He was brandishing a long baton in which the tip housed blue and yellow sparks of electricity. The air crackled, as the electricity danced, once he depressed the button once more.

Buffy struggled slightly as her weak legs attempted to gain purchase. As the prod moved forward, her soft whisper fell from her lips, “I love you Spike.”

Drusilla’s bruising grip released prior to Angelus’ movement. Once Buffy’s flesh was met with the cattle prod, instantly, her body convulsed. Her listless body slumped to the frozen ground, as Drusilla’s screeches filled the night.

“Ohhh….daddy! Ashes, ashes we all fall down!” Drusilla clapped her hands excitedly as she stepped over the fallen Slayer. With a slight shake of her head, her demon receded.

“That she did,” Angelus purred, as his human guise slid into place.

Immediately, two minions appeared from the shadows as they each roughly grabbed the incapacitated Slayer by either listless arm. Together they dragged her limp form through the frozen grass, as they headed toward Angelus’ car.

As Drusilla resumed her sway of a lunatics dance, she crooned the childhood lyrics of the Bubonic plague.

“Ashes, ashes we all fall down!” Drusilla’s form fell gracefully to the ground, as childlike giggles poured forth.

A glance of utter revulsion passed Angelus’ features as he viewed the maniacal vampire near his feet. With a sneer, he turned and followed the only thing that was of the utmost importance now, Buffy.

And all will come undone


















(1) http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Face_of_War Dali’s painting called The Face of War

Less than an hour after the reverberating ‘slam’ hit the room, the trio of Giles, Willow and Xander set out into the night in an attempt to locate Buffy. The consensus that Buffy shouldn’t have hunted Angelus and Drusilla alone was the fuel that fed their search. Each hour that passed without seeing neither hide nor hair of Buffy, filled them with complete and utter dread.

As the dawn broke through the darkness, the trio headed toward Revello Drive, in futile hopes that she was there. Upon a preliminary sweep, their fears were confirmed. Buffy was gone. Worse still, she was most likely in the hands of Angelus and Drusilla. With a slight ray of hope Willow spoke to the increasingly distressed males.

“Maybe she’s with Spike? They could have met up somewhere and….” Willow’s speech was hesitant, as she looked upon each of their faces for a reaction.

“You may be correct Willow. Does either of you know where Spike is currently residing?” Giles inquired.

“Buffy hasn’t been very forthcoming, since she became a, you know. She never said anything to you?” Willow retorted.

“Not exactly. I do remember in passing, when she and Spike were having their difficulties, Buffy wanted to avoid Restfield Cemetery at all costs. Now thinking back, maybe that is where he is, possibly housed in one of the many crypts located there. I fear that may be the only lead that we have at this moment,” Giles stated solemnly. With dual nods from Xander and Willow, they headed into the early morning light.

“Giles, how many crypts are in this joint? It’s amazing that people still decide to move here! If you ask me, a town that has more headstones than houses, would not be a place that I would want to hang my hat!” Xander snapped as he trudged behind Willow and Giles’ quick gait.

“I do agree Xander, but now is not the time to discuss the market value of Sunnydale’s properties.” Giles retorted as he hovered upon the threshold of the seventh crypt they sought to check. “As before, stay close. We are unsure if this may be a vamps nest.” Giles instructed as he pushed against the heavy barrier that separated them from the inner sanctum of the mausoleum.

Once the door opened, the trio entered with trepidation. Inside, darkness and stale, cold air consumed their forms as they continued forward. The yellowish beam of Giles’ flashlight dispersed the gloom, as he inspected the interior. Once the muted beam discovered what laid before them, Giles’ azure eyes widened in disbelief.

Splayed upon a sarcophagus, was Spike’s naked and battered form. Immediately, Giles instructed Willow to exit, as he gradually approached the vampire. Shackles upon his wrists and ankles restrained Spike’s limbs. Each chain was wrapped around a displaced gravestone, to add to the imprisonment. Upon his upper chest and lower abdomen, were two large bowls of clear fluid. Judging by the burns that surrounded them, Giles believed that they were filled with holy water.


Giles looked upon the imprisoned vampire with utter shock. Spike’s typical flawless skin was marred with bruises, abrasions and gashes. His face exhibited the brunt of the attack; lips split and bloodied, cheeks battered and covered with more horrendous injuries. One eye swollen completely shut, with caked blood sealing the lashes to his pale flesh. Giles studied him, debating how to proceed. In an instant, one cerulean eye beheld Giles, in a silent plea to release him.

Giles placed the flashlight down upon the stone slab, and with a deep cleansing breath, he cautiously removed the bowl that was placed upon Spike’s chest. Once the corrosive fluid was cleared, Spike spoke.

“Thanks Watcher. Please do be carefully with the one by my manly bits. Slayer would be right pissed if any water spilled there,” Spike jested as he remained absolutely still.

With an angered glare from Giles, he proceeded to remove the second bowl. Once his body was cleared, Spike inhaled deeply, with utter relief. Giles attempted to remove one shackle that encompassed Spike’s left wrist. As he worked Spike’s vampire guise burst forward as he growled.

“Where’s Buffy?”

“She’s not with you?” Xander asked as he hovered in the middle of the room.

“Yeah whelp. Buffy and I combined hide and seek with bondage, hence my current state! Watcher, why is she not with you? She was never to patrol alone!” Spike snarled as Giles continued to work upon the metal links.

“Spike, I assure you that none of us intended for her to do so. It was just last night, well last night….” Giles explained, as his eyes remained fixated upon his task.

“Watcher, I heard about your lady, and I’m truly sorry for your loss, but that does not mean that other lives are less important! You sent my mate out, alone to battle two master vamps!” Spike continued to roar as Giles removed one set of chains.

Still restrained, upon the three other limbs, Spike’s free hand lunged forward and wrapped around Giles’ neck. In an instant, his face was mere inches from the infuriated vampire. Giles’ feet sought purchase as his legs buckled from underneath him. Between the gasps, Giles heard Spike’s enraged, but controlled voice, which chilled him to the core.

“They have her. Those sadist bastards have my mate and there is no telling what they have in store for her. If one hair is amiss from her golden tresses, I will inflict pain upon you tenfold. Are we clear Rupert?” Spike hissed as he released his now reddened throat with a callous shove.

With a shaky intake of breath, Giles nodded his understanding. Without another word, Giles, with the aid of Xander, released the remaining three restraints. Once he was freed from his metal confines, Spike pulled his battered form from the stone slab. With a few leisurely stretches, his demon receded, as he searched for some clothing. Unabashed with his nude state, he began to speak.

“What time did Buffy leave your flat last night?”

“Slightly after sundown,” Giles explained with a faintly raspy voice.

“That explains the vibes that I received last night while heading toward your flat. So she’s been gone for what, eighteen hours or so?” With a diminutive nod from Giles, he continued. “That means that we have another six before the sun goes down. In those six hours, we need to locate Buffy and get her out!” Spike declared as he slid his worn denims upon his bruised legs. With a minimal wince, he placed his ratty, bloodied black tee over his head and settled it upon his battered form.

“Any questions?” Spike snapped at the two reserved males before him.

With only silence greeting his question, Spike ordered Xander to get Willow, so the four of them could discuss strategy. An hour into their preparations, Xander spoke.

“Hey G-man, what about that spell? The one we used to find Will when insane chick had her?”

“That’s an excellent idea Xander.” With hesitation, Giles spoke to Spike. “Spike we can’t do the spell here. All the supplies I require are back at my flat,” Giles explained.

“That’s fine Watcher. Sewers run all throughout this town. Head home, prepare. I’ll be there soon,” Spike ordered as the foursome stood. Without a word, Spike disappeared from the crypt, in a flash of leather. As the remainder trio left the tomb, not a word was spoken, even though everyone’s mind was fixated upon one thing, Buffy.


*** *****

Reality lapped at the edges of the dark abyss of Buffy’s unconsciousness, first with tender caresses, which quickly transformed into harsh shakes. Buffy attempted to trudge through the thick cotton, which encompassed her being. Heavy lids fluttered as Buffy tried to clear the haze that polluted her mind. Her tongue lies thick within the confines of her parched mouth. After the brief assessment of her body, her mind attempted to release tendrils forward. Her face and body perched upon something hard, smooth, and round. Pulses of air flittered around the exposed parts of her flesh.


Despite the attempt of gradually understanding her new surroundings, the distant croon of a familiar voice, mandated the process to increase in pace.

“So the siren decided to arise. I will not fling myself upon the rocks, unlike the men you have enticed with your songs. Powerless bird in a gilded cage is your fate now,” Drusilla cooed as she approached Buffy.

With all the strength that she could muster, Buffy forced her eyes open to behold the woman that approached her. The first concept that she could comprehend, was that she was almost eye-level with the insane vampiress. As Buffy placed her hands under her seemingly weighty form, her fingers slipped slightly, only her palms rested upon an object. Her head lolled down as she noticed that she was enclosed in a large metal cage, which was suspended at least five feet off the ground.

Drusilla’s voice rang out again as she was now only several feet away from Buffy’s hovering form.

“Miss Edith whispered nasty lies to me in my slumber. She warned me that you are here to take my daddy away. That his vessel hovers precariously by the deadly rocks, with one song, he will be lost to me forever!” Drusilla’s words started soft and controlled. Upon the completion of her sentence, her voice shrilled, as the words fell from her lips.

Buffy attempted to retort to her rants, but before she could, Drusilla continued. Her wild gaze held Buffy’s as she was now standing before her prone form.

“Miss Edith will be punished for her lies. She will no longer eat cakes with the rest of us. Or does she speak the truth harlot?” Scrutinizing Buffy, she continued. “What song do you sing, that makes the greatest black knights fall?” As listening to voices not present, Drusilla’s head tilted, and then she continued. “You are truly not a temptress as I so believed. Your maidenhead was given to my William. He schooled you on the pleasures of the flesh, as I he. The song does not live between your thighs.”

Buffy attempted to move slowly away from her. As she shifted, the cage slightly rattled, warning Drusilla of her movements.

Lightning-quick, Drusilla snagged a fistful of Buffy’s hair as she dragged her body harshly towards the edge of the bars. Brutally, the tender flesh adorning her forehead crashed upon the unforgiving metal. Instantly, blood trickled down from the gash left upon her brow. Stars burst forward, as Buffy’s vision doubled. Within inches of the enraged vampire, Buffy attempted to speak. Words formed within her throat, but were never produced.

The heady scent of Buffy’s blood permeated the small space between Drusilla and her. Drusilla’s turquoise eyes widened as instantaneously, her demon slid forward. She released Buffy’s tresses as her body began to sway, as if she was entranced. With a fearful stare, Buffy watched her undulate to a song only present within her mind.

“Your… song…. fills… my…. head,” Drusilla cooed as her body moved as a flame upon the wind. Abruptly, her movements stopped. Her golden gaze held Buffy’s bewildered one, as she spoke again.

“I must know your lyrics.”

In a flash of movements, Drusilla had an iron grip upon Buffy’s wrist, her razor-like fangs embedded into the soft flesh of her forearm. Buffy’s mouth held agape for several moments before a scream tore from her throat. The cry, a combination of pain, fear, and anger, pierced through the silence that once filled Buffy’s soul. As her life’s blood flowed into the throat of Drusilla, each draw pulled her essence also. Buffy’s heavy lids closed as she envisioned her mate. With silent declarations of “I love you” and “I’m sorry”, she awaited death to come and consume her.

Upon the third unspoken avowal, a thunderous growl filled her ears. Simultaneously, the greedy mouth upon her flesh was torn away. Once the leech upon her body was removed, Buffy immediately moved her body to a seated position. She cradled her injured arm to her chest, as her legs gained purchase; she pushed herself to the opposite side of the cage. She willed her eyes to open, to behold what was transpiring before her.

Drusilla sprawled upon the floor, human features present; her turquoise eyes large and pleading, full lips trembling, as she stared at the person above her. The view would have caused a slight swell of empathy, except for the blood that was smeared across her lips and chin, which was a stark contrast to her porcelain skin. Buffy’s gaze moved to the force that caused this master vamp to cower. Angelus.

“How dare you!” Angelus roared. Buffy felt a slight sense of hope with his words, until all optimism collapsed upon his continuance. “The Slayer is mine! Her blood is for my palate alone! How dare you steal from your sire!”

“Daddy, I’m sorry. Her song called to me! My vessel crashed like all the rest! Please, please forgive your princess,” Drusilla begged, as she crawled upon hands and knees towards Angelus’ form.

For the first time since he had arrived, Buffy noticed not only his presence, but him. He stood before Drusilla, full demon visage. His bare chest heaved with unneeded breaths. Buffy’s eyes scanned his form slightly and noticed that he was sans clothing and obviously aroused by the groveling and/or the heady scent of blood that filled the air.

Once she reached him, Drusilla clung to his body as ivy to a lamppost. She slithered and twisted until she knelt before him. Without another word, her blood stained lips opened as her mouth encased his pulsating erection. Buffy tried to look away, but as a moth to a flame, her eyes were drawn to the sight before her.

Angelus’ fists were filled with raven locks as she greedily worshiped him. Coos and moans filled the room, as they heralded their total enjoyment of his callous act. Despite this violent action, the one thing that made Buffy’s blood run cold, were his golden eyes. Which were trained upon her, the entire time.

As dusk rapidly approached, the foursome, were on edge. Unfortunately, they were no closer to locating Buffy. Multiple piles of charred, burnt maps of Sunnydale were strewn about Giles’ flat. In addition to these charred papers, Spike held several items belonging to Buffy. Her favorite sweater, a hairbrush, a singed Mr. Gordo; each was used in combination with the demolished maps and Giles’ locator spell. Each failed, miserably.

Spike stalked throughout the flat like a caged panther, anxiously awaiting the sun to dip below the horizon. The others continued to scour the mountains of books that Giles’ had found, in an attempt to locate Buffy. While leafing through the pages of a text, Willow’s finger was sliced by the slightly sharpened edge. As the blood began to well, Spike’s demon visage immediately slid forward.

A deep demonic rumble filled the once silent room. All eyes widened, and their mouths were agape, as each looked toward Spike. With a flurry of movement, Giles’ was armed with a stake, Willow and Xander barricaded behind him. Spike’s golden eyes beheld them, as the heady ambrosia, a combination of blood and fear, permeated his senses.

A visual stalemate occurred between all parties, as Spike’s vampire visage continued to pervade his features. With several fierce shakes, Spike recalled his demon; his cerulean gaze now studied the trio. After a pregnant pause, Spike spoke.

“What? Blood, vampire, you do the math?” Ignoring his statement, Giles spoke.

“When is the last time you fed, Spike?” Giles inquired, stake still at the ready.

“Don’t rightly remember. Hasn’t been more than a day or two,” Spike responded brusquely.

“Spike, Do I need to point out, within that period of time your body has been severely beaten, and one can assume a nominal amount of blood was lost?” Giles questioned.

“Thanks for the recap, Watcher! Don’t you think I bloody well know that?” Spike acknowledged Giles’ words with an agitated roar.

“One can assume that…that you need to feed,” Giles explained.

“Why Watcher, you offering?” Spike responded with a hearty scoff.

“If it means, that you will be in a better form than you are now …then yes,” Giles answered with resolve.

Cerulean eyes widened upon Giles’ statement, his words breaching Spike’s mind. Two more sets of eyes widened; one chocolate brown, the other jade green, upon Giles’ declaration.

“I don’t bloody well think the Slayer will take too kindly me noshing on her Watcher and friends!” Spike sneered.

“Maybe not directly from us, but there are other ways,” Giles responded. Before either could comment, Giles’ voice rang out, in an attempt to quell their fears.

“It’s the only way.”

Without another word spoken, Giles headed down the hall toward his bathroom. Silently, Willow followed closely behind. Xander’s eyes burned with hatred and disgust, as he glared at Spike momentarily. Several beats later, he followed Giles and Willow.

Standing in the living room, a myriad of feelings washed over him, bewilderment, determination, and sheer awe. He wasn’t fooled, they hadn’t accepted him. What he hoped was, by this simple act, in the future, he and his mate could be together without repercussions from her Watcher and friends.

Twenty minutes later, a ‘Kiss the Librarian’ mug filled almost half way with blood, was placed within his hands. The trio looked much paler than before, especially Willow. With a slight nod of gratitude, Spike’s demon emerged, as he placed the mug to his lips, and gulped down the blood in one swallow.


Without a further word of the blood offering, Spike announced it was time to find Buffy, his way.

In a swirl of leather, he stalked towards the door. In his wake, Giles and Xander collected several stakes and a crossbow before following. Willow stayed behind, due to her largest contribution, the blood that now filled Spike’s stomach.

Once the trio reached the streets, Spike lifted his nose toward the slight wind that caressed their rigid bodies. His golden eyes were momentarily concealed, as he attempted to pinpoint her location. After several beats, his lids snapped open as her unique scent pervaded his nose. In an instant, Spike ran towards the direction in which the heady fragrance wafted.

The bright halo of bleached locks was the only indication of Spike’s direction; he pounded through the streets of Sunnydale, Giles and Xander following several steps behind.

****** *****

“Wakey, wakey…Buffy,” a deep sing-songy voice filled Buffy’s murky head. With a valiant effort, she forced her heavy lids opened. Her eyes crossed, as she attempted to focus on the vampire methodically stalking toward her. Once the realization of who was before her seeped through the haze, Buffy scrambled to push her battered form into the middle of her confinement.

“Now, now. That hurts my feelings. I should be given a much better welcome than that.” As the hate burned within Buffy’s green depths, she glared at Angelus, he continued. “No? Oh well, doesn’t matter. Soon enough, you will be begging for my attention. I can see it now; naked, of course, crawling on all fours, pleading for me to fill all those perfectly, tight orifices. Mmm… Has me hard as granite just thinking about it! Wait! Why think, when it can become a reality I say! Whatcha think, Buffy the Vampire Layer?” Angelus scoffed, circling the hanging cage that housed Buffy like a hungry shark.

Buffy’s heavy head moved slowly, as she attempted to follow Angelus’ movements. Due to the lack of blood and food and more so, her prolonged separation from her mate, this once powerful warrior had been brought to her knees.

Despite her weakened state, Buffy’s gaze held firm with Angelus’ as she responded to his rant.

“You just love to hear yourself talk, don’t you?” Her voice scratchy from a combination of blood loss and a parched throat; rang throughout the silent room. With a hearty, deep laugh, Angelus stared at his young captive.

“There she is! There’s the Slayer that I can’t wait, to sink my teeth into! Speaking of which…” Angelus announced, his demon visage sliding forward.

He approached the opening of her cage, freed the lock and latch. As the metal hinges protested their movements, Buffy scurried towards the furthest recesses of the enclosure. For several moments Angelus' attempted to reach her, to no avail. With a loud, “Fuck this!” he slammed the heavy metal door, locked it and stalked over to the chains that held the cage suspended.

Buffy’s eyes widened, as she comprehended what he was about to accomplish. She scampered towards the door, and attempted with all the strength, she could muster to break the lock. All of her efforts were futile due to lack of strength and time. With one last exertion, Buffy’s weary voice rang out. Her words stilled Angelus’ movements, briefly.

“What will Drusilla say?” Buffy knew that it was futile, these words, but she was hoping that the thoughts of the insane vampiress, would stall his actions.

Angelus’ hands stilled upon the wrapped chains. He slowly turned, his now golden gaze fixed upon Buffy. As the moments ticked by Buffy's faith, that he would not continue this path, increased. Or so she thought. A feral grin appeared upon his lips, prior to his declaration.

“Dru? After yesterday’s little indiscretion, she was severely punished. You don’t think that a piss-poor slob job was going to stop this from happening, did you?” After his declaration, Buffy’s eyes welled with tears.

Without Drusilla as a distraction, Buffy recognized that her fate was sealed. Her death was certain. Buffy’s salty tears continued to fall. Each droplet signified all those that she would leave behind. Her mother, Willow, Xander, Giles…Spike.

Angelus witnessed this once brave warrior before him sob a river of tears. With sheer delight dripping from his voice, Angelus spoke.

“Don’t fret, daddy will lick all those tears, and other more tasty bodily fluids away.” As Angelus ran his tongue over his serrated teeth and lips, he released the last section of the chain.

With a flurry of metal, the links zipped upwards towards the ceiling. Moments later, the metal cage crashed upon the ground with a thunderous sound. Despite Buffy’s attempts to brace herself, the landing jostled her body, her battered form met harshly with the immobile metal bars.

Buffy’s world spun, as she briefly assessed her injuries. Newly broken limbs and digits screamed, as she attempted to extract herself from the cage floor. Fresh blood, spilled forward, as deafening steps pervaded her ears. Instantly, the metal door opened. In a flash a fistful of her once golden locks were grappled, as she was dragged from her prison.

Her shaky legs attempted to gain purchase, as she was hauled backwards. Without a further word, Buffy was lifted off the ground by her hair, and flung upon a soft, yielding object. A bed.

In an instant, upon her supine form, Angelus trapped her. From chest to feet, his hulking body immobilized her almost completely. Buffy’s demon burst forward, as her arms flailed. Without much effort, Angelus encased both of her wrists, in one iron fist. Once her arms were captured, his other hand found purchase upon Buffy’s neck. With an equal punishing grip, he squeezed the vulnerable flesh under his palm. Fingers biting into her skin, his golden eyes penetrated her now equally golden gaze.

Angelus’ with a deep and callous voice spoke.

“Draw back your demon, bitch! Here’s lesson the first, I am your Master! It will serve you well, to heed me, and my demands!”

Despite the minimal air that filled her lungs, Buffy snarled her response.

“Piss Off!”

Angelus’ fury burned within his gaze. In an instant, his fist was once again was in her tresses, he roughly exposed the column of her bruised and swollen throat towards him. With a demonic roar, his fangs violently penetrated her neck. Buffy’s demon receded, as Angelus’ mouth covered Spike’s claim. He tore and shredded the flesh surrounding her once cherished marks.

As he greedily feasted upon her blood, Angelus’ hand released her hair, his now empty hand snaked between their bodies. His fingers dug into her flesh, as he brutally seized her clothed mounds. With a sadistic pull, he extracted his fangs from her throat. Buffy’s life’s blood seeped from the wound; Angelus hand began to tear at her dirty, tattered clothing.

Her punished and battered flesh was exposed to the air and his lust-filled gaze, as the darkness of unconsciousness pervaded her mind. Her lids fluttered and closed. The only sound that she could hear was her own words as her mind called to her mate. She proclaimed her love, begged for forgiveness and said her goodbyes. As his bruising grip formed around her naked breast, in an instant, it was all gone. His brutal hands, his crushing weight, his presence…all disappeared.

With a fierce wave, the sounds of the room, crashed within her mind. The tendrils of numbness dispersed, as Buffy focused upon what was transpiring next to her recumbent form.


**** ****

Giles and Xander resumed their brisk pace, as they continued to search for the now elusive bleached vampire. Almost an hour before, they had lost sight of him, while they weaved through the streets of Sunnydale.

“Giles, where the hell is he…it…Spike?” Xander spat as he met the older gentleman step for step.

“I don’t rightly know Xander. I assume that Angelus would find the most desolate place in Sunnydale. Far away from prying eyes and ears, I believe that Spike will be searching there,” Giles explained with frustration laced throughout his words.

“Well…I hope Spike’s doing much better than we are,” Xander stated with a heavy sigh.

“So do I, Xander. So do I,” Giles responded with an equally exasperated sigh.


*** ***

Buffy’s hazy stare, beheld a violent trade of fists, fangs and demonic growls. In a flurry of movements, Buffy could see a physically unequal match of master vampires. Angelus, with his natural bulk and sheer size seemed to dwarf his opponent. Despite this disadvantage, Angelus appeared to have numerous severe marks upon his body, from…Drusilla.

The vampiress was in full game face, as she hissed and struck with razor-sharp claws, towards any exposed flesh upon Angelus’ body. Numerous, lengthy, bloody scores stood out brightly against Angelus’ pale skin.

Angelus struck Drusilla’s face with a brutal punch, which forced her to stagger backward toward the closest wall. After she steadied herself, she pulled away from the barrier. Drusilla hissed words through her blood that filled her mouth.

“I knew! I knew that siren had you with a single song! Despite how your princess has worshiped at your feet, fed you heady virgin’s blood, bestowed your body with all the pleasures of the flesh; that filthy soul still hovers all around you! Poor, poor daddy, nothing can save you now!” Upon this declaration, Drusilla pulled a stake from the folds of her crimson sheath, and ran towards Angelus with a deranged scream.

As the insane vampiress rushed towards her sire, Angelus ducked low and charged into Drusilla’s upright form. His shoulder collided with her midsection, with an audible ‘whoosh’. With the speed of a runaway freight train, Angelus slammed Drusilla into the wall where she once laid.

Buffy extracted her assaulted form from the bed, as the two master vamps continued their battle. Buffy slid across the floor, upon her exposed chest and stomach; sharp stabbing pains filled her mind. With determination, Buffy pushed all the pain away, as she continued her slow trek towards the door, towards her freedom.


“Almost there…almost there!” Buffy’s mind screamed and cheered herself on, as she continued. She pushed away the sounds of battle, as she finally reached the portal that would release her from this hell upon earth.

An ear-piercing roar thundered through the air. Out of her peripheral vision, Buffy witnessed the stunned vampiress, clutch her chest, just where the wooden stake that she had produced, lay deep.

Drusilla’s demon receded immediately, as her now turquoise gaze beheld her sire. Prior to her body bursting into dust, a single word fell from her trembling lips. “Daddy?” With that, she was gone.

Despite this minor distraction, Buffy pulled her body passed the threshold of the bedroom, into the hallway. Instantly, iron grips encased her ankles, as she was forcefully hauled back into her personal hell. As if she was a feather upon the winds, she was flipped over onto her back. The wooden floor met the back of her skull, with a brutal ‘thwack’. Buffy’s vision doubled, as her brain shifted within her shaken skull.

Quickly, her gaze cleared, as Buffy started to flail about her legs, in an attempt to free herself from his hold. While he continued to pull her further into hell, Buffy grabbed at any object within her grasp to slow her movements, to no avail. Angelus’ hands released her ankles, and within an instant, they were around her throat, as she was viciously extracted from the floor. Buffy’s eyes widened, her mouth agape as she tried to breathe around his cruel grip. Her feet and hands tried to seek leverage, as she tried to pull away.

Angelus’ battered face, was a hairsbreadth away, as he growled his hateful words.

“Now that’s everything, huh? No weapons…No friends…No hope.”

Buffy’s eyes closed preparing for what was to come.

“Take all that away…and what’s left?”


**** ****

Several miles away, Giles and Xander located Spike. The vamp was still burning a streak through the streets; his demon actively searching for its mate. Each male called out to Spike, but he refused to yield. Finally, they reached him when his steps started to falter. Regardless, he continued his quest.

Spike’s mind and body burned, as he continued to push himself. Despite the pain, despite the hunger, Buffy was all that mattered. His heavy steps met with the pavement in a strong tattoo, until a tidal wave of emotions pervaded him, pain, fear, despair, and regret. Under this new weight, Spike began to stagger.

The edges of his mind curled inwards feeling his connection begin to secede from his mate. Spike struggled to maintain this connection, to no avail. As a dandelion clocks upon the summer winds, all parts of his mind linked to Buffy seemed to disperse and float away.


**** *****


Angelus’ words still hung in the air, as he sunk his fangs into Buffy’s already shredded throat. With deep pulls, he continued to consume her life’s essence. Her limbs became heavy and numb, her mind swam. Buffy could feel her heart slow as Angelus continued to feast upon her blood.

The once hearty tattoo of her heart, slowed several beats, before Angelus extracted his fangs from her tattered throat. As Buffy hovered in the realm between the living and dead, Angelus golden gaze stared upon the once mighty Slayer within the confines of his arms.

Angelus exposed his wrist, to his razor-sharp incisor. With a minimal puncture, his blood began to well. Angelus placed his lips upon his flesh, and pulled a small amount of blood, within his mouth. He then proceeded to place his bloodied mouth upon Buffy’s slack lips. With greedy tongue and lips, he worked his essence into her body. Angelus gave Buffy a final kiss…the kiss of death.

*** ****

Instantly, Spike’s knees struck the ground violently, he crumbled under the weight of this new realization, which scorched him mind and body. An inhuman roar, released from deep within the recesses of his being, announced to all, his mate…was gone. The howls and cries of his loss continued, as rivers of salty tears flowed heavily from his golden eyes. Before the darkened world, this mighty Master vampire vowed…vengeance.

Two days passed, Spike continued to search for Angelus to no avail. Vengeance and wrath infiltrated every movement, every thought, every fiber of his being.

While the sun was present he would scour the underground. Utilizing the sewers, he entered all local demon hideouts, questioning all in his path. Those that did not willingly relay information, Spike unleashed his fury upon their bodies, death was the only other option to answering his queries.

Once the sun placed its kisses upon the horizon, Spike would resume his search through the streets of Sunnydale. Neither beast, nor man was safe. All those having the misfortune to cross his path, succumbed to his acrimony.

Spike refused to sleep or feed. He believed that abstinence from these luxuries was penance for his failure to protect his mate. He continued to fight, as he felt his alabaster flesh, mold further around his bones. The constant gnaw of hunger within his gut resounded in protest.

At regular intervals Spike would update Giles, and the others of his findings. The trio continued to scour books and the streets during daylight hours. All held hope with their joint efforts, Buffy would be located.

In addition to the mystical world, Giles dealt with the human world as well. Excuses for her lack of attendance to school were made. On Friday, Giles planned to file a missing persons report with the Sunnydale Police Department. All tried to prepare for Joyce’s return home on Saturday, to find her only daughter missing.

Each day that passed, despite the other’s words of hope, one by one, each started to accept the inevitable. They began to mourn her passing. Spike refused. Without confirmation, he refused to believe that his mate was gone. Once his mind started down that path, devastation and a one-way trip into the sun’s rays, were next.

Thursday…as the dawn spilled over the horizon, Spike’s heavy shod feet, sloshed through the filthy waters of the rat-infested sewers. Each tunnel of the underground maze, held his scent. Hours upon hours he searched with the same outcome. Howls of frustration reverberated throughout the dampened stone walls, realization seeped within his mind…he’d searched everywhere and nothing.

Tears welled and hovered upon the rims of his golden eyes. As if a powerful dam was released, gut-wrenching sobs tore from his throat. His leather encased back, slammed forcefully upon the wall. The stone crumbled beneath his form, he leaned heavily for support. In an instant, his fury renewed. Spike swirled, met his granite brace, striking violent blows with his feet and hands. Pain blossomed with every strike, but his brutality never faltered.

Tears and sorrow overwhelmed him once more. Upon another demonic wail, a single word that hadn’t breached his lips in days, tumbled forward… b>“Buffy!”

Despite being surrounded by walls of stone, Spike sensed when night approached. As he hauled his battered and weary form from the underground tunnels, another creature stirred as well.


**** **** ****


He sensed another presence rousing as well…his new toy…Buffy. Unabashed with his nudity, he stalked across the floor, toward the hidden staircase that lay behind his chamber walls. Just as in the movies, with a shift of a staged sconce, the faux wall slid open, exposing the stairwell within. Angelus extracted his nude form from his crimson, silky linens. His flesh hummed with anticipation.

Her heady essence pervaded his being. Angelus’ nostrils flared, his mind swirled as the tantalizing airborne ambrosia of desire, willingness and utter female, assaulted him. His cock swelled and hardened as he ascended the stairs. The heavy brass key bit into his palm as he clenched his fist. Upon reaching the top, only the wooden barrier ceased his movement toward her.

As the key slid into the lock, Angelus’ mind flashed. He pictured his manhood entering within the deep recesses of her womb. Once the tumble of the lock clicked, clearing his way, he pushed open the door with zeal.

His hungry gaze sought her. Within an instant, he spied Buffy. She had finally risen in all her glory. Within the middle of the room, she remained kneeling, head bowed. Her stunning crown of golden tresses, curtained her features. During her stasis, Angelus cared for her body. He cleared her flesh of his and Drusilla’s cruelty. He washed her flowing locks in rose-petal water, dried and brushed her flaxen mane until it has shone like golden threads.


His name caused fear within the minds of all within the demon-world. Now, a conqueror of a Slayer, The Slayer, one who had defeated his sire and The Master, would seal his title of the true Master Vampire.

Without removing his gaze from her lowered form, Angelus closed the heavy wooden door. Cock throbbing, mouth watering, his stare lingered upon her form. Perfect, rose-tipped breasts begged for his eager hands. Shaven mound, courtesy of his skilled administrations, housed between her toned thighs. As Angelus remained motionless and silent, Buffy raised her head slowly to face him. Golden demonic eyes beheld him, a lust-filled smile graced her full lips. With one word, the siren at his feet entrapped Angelus.

“Master.” Buffy purred as the tips of her fangs glimmered in the soft candlelight.

Upon her declaration, she tilted her head to the side, to offer the column of her throat. Angelus’ demon tore forward. Within several steps, he stood before her. Buffy’s pouty lips now a hairsbreadth from his raging erection, Angelus was torn where to begin throat or core. Without further thoughts, his mind screamed “Why choose?”


**** ****

Spike continued to scour Sunnydale’s streets well into the night, becoming extremely dismayed. Each avenue was permeated with his scent, and blood spilled from numerous fights. The fury and vengeance that had fueled him for over two days straight had started to wane. They were replaced by anguish and despair.

Within the next three hours, the sun would greet the horizon to commence their daily dance. As his arduous strides continued towards Buffy’s home, her sanctuary…their sanctuary; Spike decided he would join this dance. The scorching rays would caress and consume his flesh as his mate had once. As he burned, his final thoughts would not be of his losses, but of his rewards. A demon that was bestowed the ultimate gift of his true love, of his mate, Buffy.

With certain strides the distance between his current location, and his heaven was only moments away. As he turned upon Revello Drive, the breath he didn’t know he held, released slowly as he approached her home. In moments, he passed the threshold and ascended the stairs.

Upon entering Buffy’s room his entire being was filled with her essence. Her clothes was still strewn around the room. Linens upon the bed still bore the memories of their lovemaking and precious moments that they lay intertwined upon the fabric. Tears welled within his cerulean eyes, his throat clenched with impending sobs.

Extracting the comforter from her mattress, Spike cocooned his shaking form within the quilt. His lids closed as the slight warmth pervaded his cold body. Unable to lie upon their bed without his mate, Spike chose to climb outside the window. Mr. Gordo tucked securely under his arm, he sat upon the roof, remembered and awaited the sun.

Time moved in a different continuum, as Spike pondered his life. A hundred years of death and destruction filled most of his thoughts. Each memory quickly flipped through his mind, as pictures in a scrapbook.

His memories halted once they reached her. A mere glance, of this fierce golden warrior had captivated him entirely. Contradictory words filled his mind as he remembered her; enemy, lover, tormentor, savior, eternity, fleeting. My mate…my Buffy. Renewed tears tracked over his sculpted cheeks, he clutched her belongings closer to his shaking form.

“Soon. Soon the sun will clear the horizon, and I will be free of this hell,” Spike thought as his hands caressed the plush, pink fur of Mr. Gordo.

“Is there something you need to tell me about you and Mr. Gordo, Spike?”

Spike closed his tear-filled eyes, as her voice caressed his mind. A slight chuckle escaped his lips as he pondered her words. Despite the words ringing through his head, he answered her out loud.


“Knew you would Jacob Marley me, luv. Wouldn’t expect anything different,” Spike snickered.

“Really? So does that make you Scrooge? Well, he’s old…check. Rude…double check. Greedy…not so much. Two out of three is not too bad.”

“Please don’t tell me that I’m going to be visited by three ghosts, shown the error of my ways, so I can seek my redemption. I have only another hour, and I rather spend that with you, or at least, my imagination of you.”

“Huh? So what happens in an hour?”

“I finish what was started over a hundred years ago…I die.”

“Let me get this straight, you want to sit on my roof, fondling Mr. Gordo…which I’m so not going to ask about. Imagine that you’re talking to me and then become all dusty?”

“Long and short of it…yeah.”

“Even though you seem to have your time planned out, would it be a bother to ask for a small favor?” Spike’s lids and jaw tensed as her request washed over his mind. With a shaky breath he answered,
“Anything for you, luv.”

“Could I get a hug before you go?” Upon this request Spike’s eyes flashed open. He stood, shucking the comforter and dropping Mr. Gordo. With heavy strides, stalked across the rooftop, before he responded,

“Now I’ve truly gone mad! Karma is such a right bitch! Here I am, ready to meet Ol’ Satan himself. Accept his eternal torment, and here I have my own bloody imagination starting early!” Spike announced to the darkened sky. Spike’s strides moved quickly upon the rooftop.

“I don’t know about all that…I just wanted a hug,” Buffy replied with a slightly saddened tone.

Buffy’s essence hung heavily in the air. Within an instant, another scent mingled with the original heady scent…tears. Spike’s eyes moved from the outside world, to Buffy’s window. There within the recesses of the darkened room, an ethereal form stood.

Spike’s motions stopped immediately, his gaze drank in the beauty before him. Donned in only a white, gossamer frock, was her. His mate,…Buffy. Her petite features shown through the transparent fabric.

Spike’s gaze bore into the clearly spectral form before him. The mere sight of her caused his mind to spin and body to react. Cock hardened, fangs lengthened, demon to emerge. Despite his attempt to rationalize that his mind was playing tricks on him, his body and demon refused to relent.

Within an instant, he was before Buffy’s form. Teary gazes beheld one another for a brief moment. The realization that she was truly standing before him stormed through Spike’s mind. Instantly, he was brought to his knees. His trembling arms wrapped like steel around her tiny waist, his tears stained her frock.

Buffy’s hands clutched him to her body as mirrored tears fell. Her shaky legs released her form, and she collapsed into his embrace. Immeasurable time passed as the lovers held each other. Whispers of love and devotion flowed from one another’s lips, in between chaste kisses placed upon any exposed flesh.

Spike placed his trembling hands upon Buffy’s tear-stained cheeks, as his gaze studied her features. Eyes of green reflected his concerns, love and devotion. His cerulean stare widened, as the steady tattoo of her heartbeat thrummed against his palms.

“Buffy, your heart…”

“It still beats,” Buffy confirmed

“How? Why? How?” Spike stuttered as he tenderly placed his left palm to her breastbone.

“All great questions. Answers will be given, but not here. This is our room. Nothing evil will dwell here. Not in words, not in actions, not in memories.”

Upon that declaration, Buffy extracted her form from his. Begrudgingly, he released most of her body, except for her hand. Still petrified that if he didn’t at least maintain some contact with her, she would disappear.

Mindlessly he followed her, hands still clasped, into the bathroom. Under the bright fluorescent lights, each could bear witness to the other’s injuries. Buffy turned the water on. The steady sound of water striking the tiles and the steam rising throughout the room was the backdrop as Buffy assessed Spike.

His cheekbones protruded from his face, numerous stages of bruises dotted his alabaster skin. The lid of one eye was swollen slightly; another dark bruise encircled the blue orb. He appeared paler, more pallid than before.

Buffy’s eyes remained trained upon Spike’s, as she tenderly removed his clothing. As each bruise, slash, or mark was exposed Buffy placed a gentle, lingering kiss upon it. While removing his tattered denims, his erection stood proudly from the thatch of dark curls. Buffy nor Spike reacted. This was not about sex. These actions were about love, compassion, and devotion.

After Spike was completely disrobed, he proceeded to remove the one piece of clothing Buffy wore. The distinctive scent of Drusilla hung to the fabric, but Spike paid no attention. His sire was gone. She's been so, for several days. He was aware of her passing, but only a fleeting thought was given to her. Despite her gift of eternal life, and her presence for over a hundred years, he never truly loved her. Spike knew this now, since he had known true love with Buffy.

Spike’s demon roared forward as countless marks marred his mate’s body. Most appeared faded, but were still apparent. Buffy placed her palm against his cheek as she tried to calm his enraged demon.

“Shhh…it’s over now,” Buffy cooed. Spike’s demon receded, as his cerulean gaze examined her.

Buffy’s throat appeared to bare most of the injuries. Numerous, overlapping bruises covered her flesh. A savage wound marred the place his claim marks once dwelled. Tears hovered upon Spike’s lids, as his mind contemplated what and who had placed them there. Buffy placed her dainty fingers under his chin, to bring his line of vision from her throat to her face.

Eyes remaining open, Buffy leaned forward and placed a soft kiss upon his tightly drawn lips.
Instantly, his lips received hers, as he returned the gentle kisses. After several lavish kisses, Buffy pulled reluctantly from Spike and carefully guided them into the heated stream of water.

The deluge of water cascaded over their war-torn bodies, as their lips remained connected. Neither increased the pressure nor the pace of their kisses. Spike pulled away from Buffy first, his palms rested upon her cheeks.

“I thought I lost you. I felt you…I felt you slip away. I swear to you, I will forever work for your forgiveness,” Spike avowed as his gaze bore into hers.

“Spike, there is no need for forgiveness. You did nothing wrong,” Buffy affirmed.

“I didn’t save you! I didn’t keep you safe…safe from them! For the rest of my days, I will not forgive myself for that!” Spike growled, pulling his hands from her face. In an instant, he turned to face away from her, head hung low.

Buffy encircled his waist with her arms. Her pert breast pressed into his back, as she placed small kisses upon his flesh. After several administrations of affection, Buffy placed her cheek upon his skin and spoke.

“Spike, please. Don’t blame yourself. I should have waited for you to hunt them. Instead I go out, guns a blazing, against two master vamps. I let my anger and pain dictate my actions, and that caused me to be captured. Not you, never you.” Buffy pulled back slightly and urged with her hands for Spike to turn.

Without words, he understood and turned to face her. Once his gaze fixed upon hers, she continued,

“When I was kidnapped, they tried to break me. I fought to the end. Even as Angelus was upon my throat, I fought. I knew that nothing he could do, would keep us apart,” Buffy finished her words as she placed her hand upon his chest, over his heart.

“Did Angelus drain you?” Spike bit out.

“I guess. All I remember is Angelus attacking me. Drusilla came. Then she attacked him. They fought. He dusted her. Then he came back after me. I was so weak. The next thing I remember, his fangs were in my throat and the world became hazy and dark. Before I blacked out completely, he put his blood in my mouth. Days later, I woke up. He was there waiting for me. So I…” Buffy stopped her words, as she felt him tense under her hand. Spike remained silent as he waited for her to continue.

“So I greeted him. The same way I greeted you on Halloween.” Spike’s demon emerged as his memories pervaded his mind about that night.

“What did you offer him?” Spike growled.

“I bared my throat to him. Before he…well before he drank from me, he told me that he was my master. I think he wanted me to be his minion, not his mate. He only drank from me. I never drank directly from him. The only blood he gave m was a tiny amount. Not as much as you had given to me that night we mated.” Buffy’s words halted again. Impatiently, Spike growled,

“And?”

“When I woke, I was in this small locked room, with only a bed. Almost immediately when I opened my eyes, I could hear him coming up the stairs. I knelt on the floor, head bowed, and waited for him to come in. Long story short, I stole his heart,” Buffy declared with a slightly sinister grin.

“Stole his heart?” Spike questioned.

“Yeah, straight from his chest. One minute, Mr. Tall, dark and forehead towering over me…the next, dust in the wind!” Buffy roared, as her demon emerged.

In an instant, Spike pulled her form into his. With passionate, hungry hands and mouth, they explored one another. Buffy leapt, thighs splayed, as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Instinctually, Spike cupped her pert ass, supporting her. Without their lips parting, Spike pulled their sodden bodies from the shower and headed towards her room.

Within several strides, Spike stood before her bed. He quickly turned, so his back was toward their sanctuary. In a flurry of motion, Spike impaled Buffy upon his cock as he sat upon the soft mattress. With dual cries, the lovers announced their pleasure.
Unlike earlier, as they undressed one another, their coupling was intense and fervent. Hands seized flesh. Mouths dueled. Hips met in a brutal, primal dance. Each demon that lay within their bodies; sought pleasure, dominance and claim over their counterpart.

Mirrored crests of orgasms swelled within, as dual sets of fangs penetrated deep inside one another throats. Heady pulls of blood flowed into hungry mouths, as their climaxes spilled forward. Echo of “mine” filled the morning air, as each lover sealed their declaration with a kiss.

Buffy’s spent form clung to her lover’s as Spike continued slowly rocking his hips. Both demons receded, as Spike set a new pace for their lovemaking, which continued well into the day.

As twilight hung in the sky, the lovers lay intertwined upon the torn and tattered sheets. Buffy’s head was pillowed upon Spike’s muscular chest. He slowly stroked her golden tresses, from the crown downward. Buffy’s fingers slowly traced patterns over his alabaster flesh. A comfortable silence hung in the air, as they basked in the love and devotion that surrounded them.

“What are you thinking about? Buffy asked, voice breaking the silence.

“Nothin’,” Spike responded in kind.

“Our bond is still not as strong as it once was, but I can feel that something’s bothering you,” Buffy declared, as her gaze met his.

“I was just curious…well…why are you still the same? Not that I wanted you to be a full vamp, but I thought when a vamp drains you and feeds you his blood, presto…chango…you’re a vamp,” Spike stated with a slight furrow in his brow.

“I don’t know. I think maybe because of…”

Angelus’ words echoed in her mind before she continued.

“Now that’s everything, huh? No weapons…No friends…No hope.”

“Take all that away…and what’s left?”

“Me.” Buffy finished.

“Huh?” Spike questioned.

“I was just thinking. Before Angelus attacked me, he asked me if everything was taken away, what I would have left. I didn’t think of this then, but now I know…I would have me. I’m Buffy, first and foremost. Then I was called to be a slayer. Recently, I became part vamp, with a master vampire’s blood in my veins. My mates blood. No matter what he did, Angelus could never take that away. Despite what he did to my body or my mind, he could never change the fact of who I am. Elizabeth Ann Summers, the woman. Elizabeth Ann Summers, the warrior. Elizabeth Ann Summers, the mate of Spike, master vampire of the Aurelius clan.” Buffy announced, self-confidence filling each of her words.

Pride radiated from every pore, as Spike’s gaze beheld the majestic woman before him. In an instant, she was under him. His gaze bore into her soul.

“I love you, Buffy Ann Summers. With all that I am and all that, I could ever be, I love you for all of eternity.”

“And I love you, William Pratt. With all that I am and all that, I could ever be, I love you for all of eternity.”