Spike paused outside the Slayer’s room and took a deep breath to calm his suddenly frazzled nerves. Unexpectedly, what had seemed impossible only a few minutes ago was becoming reality—he was the one that was getting married to the Slayer.
It was what he wanted. It was what the demon wanted. He just didn’t know if it was what Buffy wanted. The possibility of rejection loomed, and Spike didn’t know if his heart—still the heart of a poet and romantic—could withstand being rejected once again.
If anything, the Slayer was one who liked to have as much control as possible over the events which occurred in her life because of the fact that she had no control over those related to her calling. Being told that she had to marry someone was enough to make her balk on its own. Add him into the mix…
The conversation with Xander was replaying in his head as he tried to force himself to come to terms with what the boy had told him.
“You’re sure?” Spike couldn’t help but ask again, the tone of disbelief more than evident in his voice as he stared at the whelp suspiciously.
“I got it from Book Man himself,” Xander promised. “Apparently you being able to enter the circle without killing Buffy or Travers is significant somehow in Giles-speak, I didn’t really catch the particulars.”
“So he wasn’t bluffing,” Spike seemed to speak to himself.
“Who? Giles?” Xander asked suddenly lost on who they were talking about.
“Never mind,” Spike said after a beat. Swiping the packets of blood off the bench he let his usual cocky mask slip effortlessly over his features. “I have a Slayer to feed,” he said as he turned and swept out of the room just as the basement door opened and Giles stepped through.
“Was that Spike?” the blonde heard his fellow Brit ask even as he made his way up the stairs, his feet carrying him quickly away from the kitchen.
Spike shut his eyes against the fact that he had run away from the Watcher and the questions that he knew he would have to face eventually. He needed time. He had to process what he had just heard and prepare himself for the rejection that was more than likely to occur when the Slayer found out she had to get married.
Knocking lightly on her bedroom door, he was surprised when he opened it to find the Slayer’s eyes open and alert. Joyce was sitting on the edge of the bed and gave her daughter’s hand a small squeeze as Spike walked in before getting up and moving out of the room.
Spike watched her leave, only turning to the girl before him once the door had closed and Joyce was no longer left in sight.
“Hey,” he said softly as he came to take up the position her mother had just vacated.
“Hey,” she said softly in return. He couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes as he placed two of the blood bags on her bedside table as he drained the third quickly.
“Here,” he said, holding his wrist out to her.
Buffy looked for a moment as if she were about to say something, a question already poised on her lips, but she swallowed the impulse. Grasping the proffered wrist in her cold hands she lowered it to her mouth, her lips skimming over the vacant pulse point gently before her tongue swept out and followed its path.
Spike fought the urge to let his eyes roll up into the back of his head as he let out a breathy moan. She was being overly sensual by letting her lips run across his skin in the barest of caresses and he had to wonder what she was up to.
Finally settling her mouth over the place she wanted, she slipped into her demon features.
Spike felt her change run through him and he opened his eyes to look at her when the expected bite didn’t come. The moment her eyes locked with his, she bit down on his wrist letting the rich blood spill into her mouth and slide down her throat.
A hoarse groan was pulled from his throat at the sensation and his eyes slammed shut in pleasure.
Buffy never let her eyes leave his face as she watched the myriad of emotions settle over it. Knowing that she could bring him such pleasure with nothing but her bite made her feel feminine and powerful and she relished the feel of it.
Spike blindly reached for another blood bag and tore into it as Buffy continued to drink from him. Little whimpers emanated from his throat that he couldn’t control, nothing beat the feel of her teeth lodged deep within him, drawing life from his death.
He let her drink for as long as possible, draining the final blood bag much the same as he had the second until he felt that she had consumed as much as he could give her without growing weak himself.
He let out a soft growl, warning her to pull back and was amazed when she did so reverently, swiping her tongue over her mark before leaving a soft kiss on top of it.
He opened his eyes to gaze at her through a haze of lust and love as she pulled herself into a sitting position. The blue slowly fading from her skin as his blood went to work on her body, bringing her back to life before him as it lent her the strength she needed to recover.
“Better?” He asked in an embarrassingly breathy voice as he fought to reign in his rampant desire for her and the erection that was straining painfully against the material of his jeans.
“Did you know?” she asked, simply ignoring his question completely.
Buffy smiled softly when he tilted his head at her in a silent request to elaborate.
“Did you know about the…hand fasting? With Xander?”
Spike swallowed as he looked away from her frank expression. To tell her or not to tell her? Did he want her to reject him now or later? Did he even believe what the whelp had told him?
“Yes,” he said finally as be brought his eyes up to hers again. “The ritual—if you don’t do it you could die, pet.”
Buffy began to worry her bottom lip between her teeth as she looked down at his hand, which was resting on the doona covering her legs.
“If I had a choice—,” she began, slowly bringing her eyes up to meet his again, “if I had a choice it would have been you.”
Spike’s eyes widened in shock at her confession, before narrowing affectionately on her “Buffy—”
“I know how you feel about Dru, and that you don’t see me in that way, but I still would’ve wanted it to be you.” His mouth curved up in a small smile as he brushed her hair out of her face.
In that moment she reminded him very much of the 17-year-old girl she was underneath it all. Her innocent confession was touching and he found it lending him the courage to reassure her that it was what he wanted as well.
“Dru’s not part of my life anymore, kitten,” he said as he leaned down to press his lips gently to hers. “I would have wanted it to be me, too.”
And with any luck, he thought as she responded to his kiss, her lips meeting his in rushed desperation to feel as much of him as she could,what the whelp said will be true and it will be me.
“Joyce, do you have a moment?” Joyce nodded and let herself be led into the dining room away from the rest of the occupants in house.
“What is it?” she asked as she pulled out a chair and sat down at the table.
“It’s about the ritual. I’m afraid Xander can’t be the one to take part in it.” Her eyes went wide as she took in what Giles was saying before they narrowed on him suspiciously.
“I hope you’re not insinuating what I think you are. Apart from Xander, Mr. Giles, you are the only other option we have on our list.”
If she hadn’t been so serious, the way Giles recoiled from her would have almost been comical.
“Good god, woman! No!” he said as he practically tore his glasses off his face in his rush to polish them, dropping them in the process. “To even think such a thing is unspeakable! Buffy is like a daughter to me, to even consider her in that manner—”
“As long as we understand each other.” Giles’ eyes snapped to Joyce’s, and he felt a shiver pass down his spine at the dangerous look she held in her eyes. It spoke of a world of pain and he couldn’t help but feel slightly afraid of her.
“Yes, quite.” An uncomfortable silence seemed to settle between them for a moment as neither spoke a word, unable to move on from what had just been said.
“So, the ritual?” Joyce finally prompted.
“Yes, well as I was saying…If you remember back to our research we did on the ritual, you’ll remember the part stating that no being may enter the circle after the ritual has been started as the it disrupts the flow of magicks and almost always is fatal to the pair being bound.”
Joyce nodded. “Yes, go on.”
“There is an exception to that rule.” He paused and took a deep breath before pulling out the chair beside her so he could sit and bring himself down to her level. “Magick can do a lot of things, both dangerous and wonderful. It can build worlds, fabricate entire memories, form flesh for that which has none, coerce people into believing things or doing things that the wouldn’t otherwise even dream of doing, but the one thing it can fabricate or force is love. True love—the kind that is real, and deep and goes beyond just the surface attraction that most feel.”
He paused to check if she was following, and at her quick nod, he continued.
“When we got to Buffy—or when Spike got there, rather—Hank and Travers had already started the ritual. Travers planned to bind your daughter to himself, and the strip of markings that are drawn on his chest are symbols that hold the power to override certain magicks of the ritual so that Buffy need not have any input for it to be completed.”
“That son of a bitch! I ought to rip his head off and shove it—” She went to push herself away from the table so she could storm down into her basement, but the soft hand on her forearm stayed her movements and she returned herself to her seat to finish listening to what Giles had to say, silently vowing that she would rip the Council head a new one after Giles had explained.
He gave her an empathetic smile as she begrudgingly motioned for him to continue.
“Regardless of that fact, none of us should have been able to enter the ritual circle that had been marked out onto the floor without potentially killing both Buffy and Travers. Spike did though, and that indicates that not only does he feel more than just a simple… affection for your daughter, but she reciprocates those feelings too.” Giles sighed as he placed his glasses on the table and ran his hands over his face tiredly. “Joyce, I cannot in good conscience bind Buffy and Xander together when there is a chance that she will find greater happiness in someone else’s arms—despite the fact that he is a vampire.”
“Oh thank God,” Joyce sighed as she slumped back into her seat and closed her eyes. “Xander’s a good boy but he just isn’t right for Buffy.”
Giles gave her a smile and rested an understanding hand on her shoulder. “I know. And as much as I will vehemently deny this if you breathe a word of it to anyone—Spike is a good match for her. She is more than just a human with super powers now, she is immortal and needs someone who won’t leave her to live out the rest of her days alone after we have all passed on.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Joyce said with a relieved smile.
“Someone will, of course, need to inform them both. Let us hope that they won’t prove stubborn on this point,” Giles remarked, as he stood up from the table once more.
Joyce followed suit, letting out an unladylike snort at his comment. “Buffy not stubborn? Oh look, I think a pig just flew past our window!”