Dreams of Forever
Disclaimer: I do not own BtVS or anything else of the sort, no matter how cool it would be to own Spike. Only the plot and any original characters are mine.
Summary: Set in the episode “Nightmares”, Buffy crawls out of the grave and the first thing she encounters as a newly risen vampire is a certain bleached blonde. What will Spike do with his interesting gift? And what chaos will happen in the wake of these events?
Author’s Note: This is in response to Challenge #45 at Bloodshedverse. I might do another challenge response or two because I found a few challenges that sparked my imagination when looking through them.
Also, many thanks to the amazing beta work by Marzbar, 2zen2, blacknblue, and especially Stephanie and Oracleholly.
Spike was making his way into town in his blacked out DeSoto, lifting a bottle to his lips in a futile attempt to inebriate himself further. The welcome sign lay in splinters behind him with noticeable tire marks. He was not happy to be here. He was not happy to be *anywhere*, wondering why he had put off dusting himself to answer the family call that had gone out days before.
His dark princess was gone; murdered by a mob in Prague. He wasn’t sure why he had fled for his life back to the States since he wished to join her in her dusty ending. But, by the time he had realized he couldn’t continue on like this – the alcohol had worn off enough for semi-clear thought – that thrice-damned family call had gone out.
As he drove through town in search a place to bunk down until it got dark, a shrieking girl suddenly darted out in front of his car and he slammed his foot down on the brakes. To keep from harming his precious DeSoto, of course; not because he cared if he ran the bird over. She was batting at a swarm of bees hysterically as she ran headlong through traffic. It didn’t surprise him too much; this was the Hellmouth after all. But then he glanced across the street to see a patch of night out of place in the middle of the day.
Curiosity got the better of him and he steered the car towards this anomaly. As soon as it was completely inside the darkness, he was finally able to get out of the car, but not all at once. First, he stuck out a hand to make sure that this weird darkness was truly safe and when he didn’t burst into flames, he climbed out.
There wasn’t anything special that he could see – well, besides the strange noonday darkness. It seemed just to be an average cemetery with headstones in rows and crypts scattered intermittently. He settled for wandering the rows, pausing by crypts to reach out his senses and wondered about the reason for the patch of darkness. It wouldn’t just spontaneously appear...but then, again, this *was* the Hellmouth.
Spike stopped when he finally sensed something. Faint. His eyes scanned the area around him but the cemetery was still empty except for him and his car. Then the ground began to move and he backed up quickly from the grave he had been standing on just as a hand burst from the dirt. After a moment’s pondering, he reached down to grasp it and aided the fledgling in freeing itself. Apparently this was what he had been waiting for.
Buffy had been relieved when her hand finally hit air, her anxiety making her fear that she would never make it out of there. Strangely, she hadn’t felt in danger of suffocating, even with the big gasps of air she had taken as panic set in.
She yelped when before she could finish digging her way out her hand was grasped in a cold hand that gave her a sharp tug. The earth broke away as she was propelled up and she flopped onto the ground with an amazing lack of grace. Rolling onto her back, she looked up at the owner of the mysterious hand and met a piercing cerulean gaze.
“Well, what do we have here?” Spike’s tongue curled behind his teeth as his eyes moved over her boldly. “And what’s your name, luv?”
*Guh, he was a hottie with a sexy accent to boot!* She licked her suddenly dry lips as she got to her feet. “B-buffy.”
“What kind of name is Buhbuffy?”
“And that’s better?”
“Fine, then let’s hear your name, Mr. Judge of Names,” she retorted and crossed her arms.
Her brow went up. “Yeah, and you make fun of Buffy?”
He gave a low growl and stepped up close to her, leaning in to say in a softly dangerous voice, “I’m goin’ to enjoy takin’ control of a headstrong fledglin’ like you.”
“A what?” she gasped and took a step back, sure that she had misunderstood him. Yes, she had to have misheard him...she wasn’t...that just wasn’t possible. She turned and started to walk away. “I’ve got to get back and find my friends...help them get everything back right...”
His laughter chilled her blood and he lunged forward to grab her arm.
“Kitten, didn’t anyone ever explain to you what it meant when you woke up in the grave?” he mocked her as he turned her back around to face him, lifting his hand to trace her new bumpies with his thumb.
“No,” she said softly and shook her head, looking up at him with wide, golden eyes. “This can’t...it just can’t be right! You’re wrong!”
With an impatient breath, he grabbed her arm again and dragged her towards his DeSoto. Her shorter legs stumbled as she was pulled along. She looked about wildly, suddenly remembering that the Master had been here not too long before. What if he was still lurking about?
But then those thoughts were gone as the crazy hottie shoved her into the side of the car. A hand to the back of the neck held her in place in front of the rearview mirror as he snarled.
“Notice anythin’ missin’?”
She gasped and went limp before sliding to the ground, starting to shake her head again as she repeated over again her denial. But there it was; the proof in the mirror as it showed an empty cemetery. She looked down at her dirt-caked hands as tears slid down her cheeks. This just couldn’t be happening...
“Feel the brow ridges, pet. The nice fangs you’re sportin’. Though, would love to see the lovely face beneath,” he said as he crouched down next to her, reaching out to tilt her head with a finger. “Just got to concentrate them away. Try it.”
She gave a trembling nod after having felt the small fangs with the tip of her tongue. There was just no more denying it. After a moment of trying, the game face melted away and left the scared girl staring up at him.
“See, knew you were even more beautiful under all that.”
“D-don’t touch me!” She shoved him away. She hadn’t missed the fact that he had been strong enough to pull her out of the ground or had been lacking a reflection as well. Suddenly, anger at her situation was directed at the first handy vampire since the guilty party wasn’t present. “I’m going to find a way to fix this! This...I can’t! I’m a slayer...I’m not going to let myself become one of you!”
“A little late, pet. You are one of us. You might as well learn how to get on and I’m just the bloke to teach you.” He rose to his feet and walked up to her again, gaze locked on hers.
Her eyes narrowed on him challengingly as she reminded herself that this so wasn’t the time to be macking on the hottie. He was an evil, soulless vampire! A dangerous killer! Come on, you would have to be blind to miss the lethal look in those eyes and the way he moved... guh... *Focus, Buffy, focus!*
Oh, he was going to enjoy taming her!
Spike heard a noise off to the side. His senses told him some humans were heading their way, possibly friends of this slayer come to look for her. *Well, time to get the hell out of Dodge.*
He grabbed the glaring slayer by the arm while jerking open his car door. Ignoring her protests and struggles, he roughly shoved her into the front seat then slid in beside her flailing form. A warning growl was shot in her direction while he slammed the door shut and gunned the engine. He didn’t have time to teach her a lesson in submission as he needed to get out of there right away.
As he drove out of the cemetery back into the daylight, he was thinking of where he was going to take his new pet. Well certainly not to old bat-face so that he could take her away from him! He could already smell the prat all over the bird even if he hadn’t spotted the bite wound. So plans were changing and screw the family call, because he was heading right back out of town, but just to the motel he had passed not far from the outskirts.
Once there, he would have to get to the business of performing the ritual to transfer sire’s rights to himself. It wouldn’t take long, but she would probably rest well past dusk and he could use that time to make more long-term plans. He needed to get her to change her look away from this blonde schoolgirl thing. That was Darla’s routine and in no way was he carting around Ho-bag Jr.
Watching the scenery pass with intense interest, Buffy avoided looking at her delectable captor. He was a vampire. Evil, soulless vampire. She had to keep reminding herself of that very undeniable fact. This was not some vacation with her hot boyfriend or something equally fun to imagine while she was in denial mode. She was now one of the evil undead, being dragged out of town to who knows where to do who knows what.
Funny, though, but she didn’t *feel* evil. Did evil people feel evil? Maybe it was because she had just been turned and it sort of grew on a person. She began chewing on her bottom lip as she pondered that.
She could work all that out later. First, she would have to figure out a way to get away from this guy. Break free and make a run for it. Would Giles help her if she called him and explained calmly what happened? Would he just stake her on sight instead?
Too soon, the car stopped and they were sitting outside a small, grungy looking hotel that she had never been to. There was enough tree cover over the small building and empty lot that Spike was able to dart for the office in relative safety to sign in for a room. When he returned, he unceremoniously jerked her out of the passenger seat to pull her towards their room. She tried clawing and kicking, but a fledgling like her was easily overpowered by the elder vampire. Especially since she had so recently been turned and still a bit weak, she assumed from blood loss.
Maybe she should bide her time until she had recovered fully. Even better would be if she was gifted with an opportunity to catch him off guard.
Inside, he pushed her towards the bed then started removing his duster and kicking off his Docs. His eyes moved over her body, taking in the dirty material of her clothing where the damp soil caused it to cling to her curves. Curves still soft with youth. Just the anticipation of all that pressed to him was causing him to press painfully against the zipper of his jeans.
“You might as well get comfortable, luv,” he told her when she continued to lay there watching him.
The sound of his voice broke her out of the daze that she had been in since her eyes had locked on the impressive bulge in his jeans. Wide, shocked eyes immediately shot up to his face and a guilty blush blossomed across her cheeks.
“Wha?” she responded then blinked rapidly. “Oh...oh yeah.”
She sat up and started slipping the baby blue jacket off, holding onto the pretty thought that they were just getting some rest because it was still daytime. Yes, and then when it got dark they would continue driving to wherever he was headed. Denial was a lovely place to live.
Looking up after removing her boots and socks, she gasped at seeing that he had removed his shirt and was in the process of unbuttoning his jeans. Her mouth went dry as she watched him continue until the jeans were open and he was hooking his thumbs in the waistband to drag them down.
“Wh-what are you doing??” she demanded, getting up and backing towards the bathroom.
“What does it look like I’m doin’? Gettin’ naked and goin’ to get in bed with you. Now get back here before I decide you need to be tied down, too.”
“But...well, I’m not going to...do *that* with you!”
He paused and looked at her, making a decision. Right now, making himself her sire was more important than getting in a good shag. He needed to get it all done before it got dark and the Master could send his people out to collect her. Who knows how he would take the fact that Spike had spirited her away with him. So, maybe getting off could wait in favor of tricking her into letting him do this willingly. It would be much easier if she was compliant.
“Buffy, was it?” He left his jeans up, but made no move to do them back up. “Look, pet, right now we got business to get out of the way before it gets dark. The Master is the one that turned you, right?” At her nod, he continued, “Well, you don’t want his people comin’ after you and draggin’ you right back to him, do you? Want him turnin’ you into another of his little undead sluts like Darla, do you?”
“No,” she said softly, hating that he had a point. “But I fail to see how boinking you is much better or a way of stopping him?”
He gave a soft growl at the insult, but decided to let it go so that he could get this done quickly. “He still has sire’s rights on you and will be able to enforce them to get you to do as he wishes. When we transfer them to me you’ll be safe from him, luv. He won’t be able to force you to do anythin’ against your will.”
“And I just have your word that you’re an improvement from him,” she said, taking a step forward again. “What keeps *you* from using them the same way?”
“Well, you’ll have to take that chance, won’t you?” He cocked a brow at her then a smirk spread across his face. “And really, pet, which of us would you rather be in that position with? Me or old bat-face?”
Her blush returned worse than before as immediately her mind was flooded with vivid images of what position he was talking about.
“Well, maybe...I mean, if I had to choose between which of you it would be less grotesque to be with...I guess it’d have to be you...” she said with a sigh of resignation. “Just, uh, keep the pants on...please.”
The smirk widened as he moved to stretch out on the bed, propped on his elbow to look up at her. He patted the bed beside him and held out his hand to her. She stared at his hand, wondering why she felt like she was selling her soul to the devil by giving in so easily. But as much as she hated to admit it, he did have a point. This was better than letting the Master get his icky hands on her again and turning her into one of his little vamp skanks.
Ignoring his hand like it was a snake, she sat down on the bed and opened her mouth to lay down more ground rules. That was, she would have if she hadn’t squeaked when he suddenly grabbed her and was on top of her in the next instant.
He was enjoying the mixed scents of her fear and arousal, inhaling deeply to commit them to memory. “Now, to do this I’m goin’ to have to pretty much turn you again. Just relax, pet. It’s not goin’ to take long, and afterwards we’ll rest until it’s dark again.”
Her brow furrowed in slight confusion but he ignored it as he moved to nuzzle her neck, his hand slipping under the sleeveless top she wore. She squirmed at the intrusion and started to push at his arm, but he grabbed her wrists to lift her arms above her head. He kept her pinned to the bed while working his magic through nibbles and licks to get her to relax under him.
Satisfied that he had her where he wanted her, he transferred both her wrists to one hand and lowered the other one back to her shirt. This time he didn’t go for the feel, but fisted his hand in the material at the collar to tear it open. What did he care? He was planning on giving her his own special makeover.
Once again she found herself blushing, looking up at him with her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Dear lord... had she made a mistake by letting him get this close to her?
He felt her tense and chuckled at the bashfulness that had to be coming from a virgin. He didn’t mind training her in the ways of pleasure. It would be fun showing her everything he knew. He nearly creamed his pants at the images his thoughts had evoked and he moaned into her neck, his free hand finding her breast and squeezing.
The little gasp that slipped out of her mouth did little to curb his arousal.
“The sire thing better not have been just some ploy to get into my pants,” she said breathily.
He lifted his head to grin down at her. “Believe me, pet, I don’t need a ploy to get into your knickers.”
“You’re a pig.” Her lip curled in disgust and she started to pull at her arms.
“Oink oink,” he growled out as he shifted into game face.
He bared his fangs at her and she froze, halting her attempts to get free. Then in the next second she watched as his mouth descended to her breast, burying his fangs into her flesh. She whimpered; he wasn’t exactly being gentle in his ire. Her blood was flowing into his eager mouth, his tongue lapping at the wound and enjoying the delicious taste. He knew he was going to become addicted it.
Tonight, at least, he could drink all he wanted. He would have to practically drain her before letting her drink from him. Like he told her, it was pretty much the same as turning someone, but she was already dead.
It didn’t take long to complete the ritual and soon he was shifting the barely conscious blonde so that he could tug the covers free before wiggling them both under the blankets. He kept her tucked close to him and brushed hair from her face so he could look at her. It was strange that not even two hours before he had been mourning the loss of his sire while pondering the possibility of following her into the next life. But, here he was with a childe that he had stolen away from the head of their line.
She was sure to be a handful and would bring trouble on their heels as he drove right back the way he had come. But, it was sure to be the most fun he had had in a very long time... if ever.