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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to every one who review for the last chapter! Thanks also to my beta Andrea for editing this chapter!

Fics can now also be found at: http://www.angelfire.com/mi4/spikeschilde/
Chapter Ten



Giles’ eyes went wide as his Slayer walked in through the front door with a suspiciously Spike-shaped bundle slung over her shoulder.

“Buffy! What in God’s name…?” He trailed off unexpectedly at her hardened look.

“Giles, we have a problem.” He let out an uncharacteristic snort at that statement.

“You mean bigger than the return of Angelus and the plotting of our untimely deaths?” Buffy’s eyebrows snapped together in confusion. Had Giles just made a funny?

Upon seeing her shocked expression, Giles rolled his eyes and let out a deep sigh as he took his glasses off his face and started polishing them rapidly. “Oh, bloody hell! What’s wrong now?”

Buffy shook off the uneasiness at hearing her Watcher make a joke, and turned her focus back to the present. “It’s not just Spike who is affected by my demon, seems Angelus goes all bumpy over me as well.”

“You think you could put me down, Slayer?” Spike’s question went unanswered as Buffy and Giles were swept up in the excitement of this new discovery. He let out a small growl—this was humiliating.

“Good lord! Angelus knows of your current physical status then?” Buffy quirked an eyebrow at that.

“If by physical status you mean ‘he knows I’m not a vampire’? Then yes.” Giles’ eyes went wide as he took in the information, looking more than a little intrigued and excited at the prospect of being able to consult his books and find the answer to the bizarre behaviour of the vampires’ demons in the presence of her own.

“I’d appreciate it if you put me the bloody hell down!” The irritation in Spike’s voice had risen to all new levels as he tried desperately to draw Buffy’s attention back to the fact that he was still slung over her shoulder with his arse in the air.

“And your demon had the same effect that it seemed to have on Spike?” Giles asked her, ignoring the vampire. Buffy nodded.

“Yep, he went all growly and possessive and tried to jump me. On the up side, though, he tried to use his sire voice on me and it didn’t work, so points in the plus column for that.” Giles’ eyebrows drew together and he nodded absently, his mind already wandering over the possibilities.

“Indeed,” he remarked as he replaced his glasses.

“You know what? Fine, just bloody well leave me here. It’s not like I mind having my arse floating about in the Watcher’s face. It is a nice arse after all, even if I do say so myself.” Buffy frowned and turned her head back over her shoulder.

“What the hell are you talking about?”


***


James shivered from his position crouched in a bush outside the Summers’ residence. He was going to kill whoever told him that working for the council would mean the most up-to-date technology and plush hotels. He was positive that whoever they were, they had never spent four hours straight hovering outside a window with little more than a over friendly cat and a pile of possum dung for company.

Almost every light on the first floor of the house was turned on, yet he hadn’t seen a grain of movement aside from the quick entry and exit of a blond headed man earlier that night. The man hadn’t stayed long enough to cause suspicion, and he was obviously welcome in the house from the way he just walked in.

He looked down at the photo he was clutching in his almost blue hands. Buffy Summers, Slayer belonging to the Council of Watchers. He snorted at that, ‘belonging to.’ Those bastards though they bloody well owned everything. Despite all that, however, he hadn’t seen even a glimpse of anyone who might fit that description.

Bringing his hands to his face, he blew the warm air of his breath into them and rubbed them together. California was supposed to be warm. He hated the cold; it was why he had volunteered for the job—to leave England. Now glancing down at the pile of dung to his right, he wondered why he had bothered.

Having come to a decision, James made to get up and leave just as the front door to the home swung open. He stopped dead in his tracks, still halfway between standing and sitting. His thigh muscles quivered with the effort to hold himself still as he waited for the person to exit the home. He was rewarded no more than a few seconds later as a small, blonde, female who looked to be a teenager took of at a jog down the street.

Scrambling around quickly, James made a grab for the photo he had in his pocket—they matched. Whipping out his mobile, he punched in the memorised number and brought the cell phone to his ear.

“She’s just been sighted.” Not waiting for any acknowledgement on the other end, he hung up the phone and replaced it, resigning himself to remain in position for the rest of the night.

As the evening wore on, fatigue eventually overtook James. He fell asleep outside of the Summers’ home and never saw when, a few hours later, the young girl returned with a crippled vampire slung over her shoulder.


***


“He needs blood.” Giles’ eyes rose suspiciously to meet Buffy’s. It was now 7 a.m. and he had spent the remainder of the night up with her, searching through volumes to see if he could find anything more on the effect she seemed to have over vampires, if Spike and Angelus were anything to go by.

“I’m sitting right here you know.” Buffy shot Spike a look before turning back to her Watcher.

“I’m assuming that you’re hinting for me to go get some?” A grin broke out across her face and she fluttered her eyelashes innocently at him “It’s light out. I don’t see why you can’t go get it yourself.”

“Giles! You know what happens when I’m in the sun! How am I meant to explain to the butcher why I look like a firefly?” Giles cringed slightly against the whine in her voice.

“Butcher! You’ve got to be kidding me! I ain’t bloody well drinking that swill.” Both sets of eyes turned on him. “What? You can’t honestly expect me to drink that shit. It will take me months to heal on that stuff.”

“Well what do you propose we do then? We’re not robbing a blood bank,” Giles retorted. Spike’s gaze slid smoothly from the Watcher over to rest on the Slayer. Her eyes instantly widened at the hungry look in his eyes as he eyed her neck.

“Oh, no! I don’t think so, Buster” His eyes slid up to hers; they had a sparkle of mischief in them with which she was beginning to grow familiar.

“Not going to return the favour, love?” Against her will, she felt her knees grow weak as he looked at her through long lashes and curled his tongue up behind his teeth to pull off a look that should be illegal—and probably was in some countries.

“The…favour? I had no control over that!” Buffy only just managed to keep the waver out of her voice. She began to squirm under Spike’s gaze as he kept his eyes pinned on her. “Giles!”

“Just feed him, Buffy!” Her eyes went wide as a huge smirk simultaneously broke out over Spikes face.

“What?” Giles shut his eyes tightly at her rather loud protest. He had gotten no more than a few hours sleep and this was more than he could deal with at that moment. “It’s not like he can kill you, and—dare I say it—Spike’s right, he won’t heal half as quickly on pig’s blood. We need him strong to help fight Angelus. He’s no good to us like this.”

Who was this man and what had he done with her Watcher? Did he even realise what he was telling her to do? He seemed to read her mind as he looked up at her once more.

“Yes, I do know what I am saying. He can’t kill you, so as far as I am concerned it’s perfectly safe.” A deep chuckle resounded throughout the room, which had Buffy’s knees weakening again. Stupid knees.

“You heard the Watcher, pet.” She scowled at Spike, shooting one last helpless look at her Watcher who had returned to looking over his books. Grudgingly she made her way over to Spike.

“He’ll probably make it hurt on purpose,” she muttered, as she moved to take the seat next to him, squeaking loudly when he grabbed her arm and pulled her down into his lap. Spike smirked as she shot another glare at him.

“What was that, pet?” He had heard perfectly well what she had said and he was going to take great pleasure in making sure that it had the complete opposite effect. Turning her around, he arranged her until she was straddling his lap.

“Is this really necessary?” He arched his eyebrow as he looked up at her.

“Easier access.” Buffy swallowed heavily at the not so subtle sexual undertones to that statement. Choosing to ignore it completely, she shifted her hair from the side of her neck where she had been bitten by both the Master and Angelus, and made sure to hold the majority of her weight off of him. Her thighs quivered under the strain, but she refused to give in knowing the minute she settled her weight onto him he would make some lewd remark.

Spike smirked again and pulled the hair back around to cover that side of her neck before uncovering the virgin side of her neck. She arched her perfectly shaped eyebrows at him but said nothing.

Buffy closed her eyes as he leaned in tensing in preparation for the bite. He didn’t bite immediately but instead ghosted his lips over the skin on her neck—barely touching her—caressing her with his lips.

Spike felt her quivering muscles slowly begin to relax as he continued his soft touches and kisses to the skin of her neck until she had rested her full weight on top of him. He resisted the urge to groan at the feel of her pressed up against him and instead swiped his tongue up the length of her neck before nuzzling his face into her as he shifted into game face.

When the bite finally came, Buffy barely felt the pinpricks of his fangs sliding effortlessly into her skin before an overwhelming sense of pleasure like nothing she had felt began to consumer her. Her unnecessary breathing instantly became heavy and ragged as her hands flew to Spike’s biceps to brace herself. He held her there for a moment—his fangs embedded in her skin—before slowly beginning to suck and draw blood from the wound.

Giles looked up from his books as a low, throaty moan resounded throughout the room. His eyes went wide at the sight that greeted him. Spike was doing more than just feeding from Buffy. She was straddling his lap with her head thrown back in ecstasy, and her long hair brushing against Spike’s thighs as she clutched at his upper arms. It was an image of his Slayer he had never wanted to see.

It was the deep moan that did it, though. Clearing his throat, Giles tried to draw their attention back to the present and avert his eyes at the same time. Maybe he should just leave the room. Making his decision quickly, he moved to scoop up his books just as the sound of heavy footfalls could be heard on the stairs and Xander walked back into the room.

“Oh, for the love of—why do I always have to walk in on this stuff?” Xander exclaimed. Throwing his hands up the air, the teen made a hasty retreat, Giles hot on his heels as he too made his way out of the living room.





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