--
The Scoobies sat around the table in the Magic Box, awkwardly silent. No one seemed willing to bring up what happened last night although that was the point of this meeting.
Xander sighed, and decided to start.
“I guess we should talk about what happened.”
“Yeah,” Willow breathed.
More silence reverberated through the store.
“I-I hadn’t realized that Buffy had relinquished so much control to her demon,” Giles said, taking off his glasses.
“She is sorta...embracing it more,” Willow said.
“I just...assumed she’d be able to handle her situation. Maybe it’s because of Spike’s presence,” said Giles.
“Of course it’s because of Spike,” Xander said. “I’ll bet she’d be just fine right now if Captain Peroxide wasn’t there pulling her over to the dark side of the force.”
Anya snorted. Everyone looked at her but she didn’t say anything, so neither did they.
“So. What do we do?” Willow asked.
Giles sighed and replaced his glasses.
“I don’t know. Talk to her?”
“And say what?” Anya interjected with an edge to her voice. “‘Gee Buffy. We don’t think you’re good at killing YOUR OWN KIND, especially when it comes to the vampires you’re related to by blood. We don’t like that you follow your instincts; act more like a human because it’s morally superior to being a demon.’?”
She held everyone’s speechless attention.
“I don’t understand all of you. You keep forgetting or just ignoring that she’s a vampire now, pretending like it never happened. Sure she’s still your Slayer but she’s /also/ a demon. It’s not easy to go around lightheartedly killing your own kind.”
“She hasn’t suffered any large bouts of depression lately. Buffy knows that she’s balancing human lives against the lives of soulless vampires,” Giles argued.
Anya nearly went ballistic.
“What the hell do souls have to do with anything?! Look at how Buffy acted. Look at Spike. Look at me!”
“You don’t have a soul?” Xander said with a frown.
She glared.
“Being human is NOT a guarantee that one has a soul and being a demon is NOT a guarantee that one doesn’t. And souls aren’t substantial enough to actually make a difference, except in rare cases.”
There was another silence in which Anya continued glaring at everyone.
“I understand where you’re coming from Anya. But...demon instincts or not, she still cannot be allowed to take human lives at will,” Giles said calmly.
“Who says she’s going to?” Anya countered. Her feelings toward the Slayer had softened considerably since Buffy’s turning.
“Anya’s got a point,” Willow said, before Giles could speak. “I mean...she only killed that guy because he hurt Spike. It’s not just vampires that would kill for their significant other.”
Anya nodded.
Xander hadn’t thought of the situation like that before. He understood things a little better now. Xander had been quiet through most of the conversation, but now he said:
“I get that. I’m still worried about her though. I just...don’t want to lose her forever because Spike thinks she looks good in dark colours.”
Everyone fell silent again until Giles quietly said:
“You don’t understand the attraction of human blood. Now that Buffy’s had a taste of it, she’s going to want more.”
Nobody knew what to say to that. Nobody had a solution to that. So once again, the Magic Box was silent until Anya finally spoke.
“Well...I guess we should talk to her then.”
--= * =-- --= * =-- --= * =--
“No. I gotta go,” Buffy said laughing as Spike pulled her back for another kiss.
“Come on, pet. Five more minutes.”
They were standing in the middle of his crypt. She was fully dressed in a loose, black turtleneck sweater and dark jeans, while he was still stark naked.
He placed his hands on her hips and drew her close. Her black purse slid to her shoulder as she slid her arms around his neck. When his hands glided to and began undoing the button on her jeans, she pulled back.
“No. Bad. I have to get to work.”
He sighed but dutifully rebuttoned her pants as he rested his forehead against hers.
After one more distractingly tantalizing kiss, she eventually left.
--= * =-- --= * =-- --= * =--
Buffy turned toward the cash register.
“What can I...”
She paused when she noticed Riley, standing there dressed all in black with a bulletproof vest on. His expression is grim, not exactly a great thing to notice when suddenly seeing an ex-boyfriend.
Buffy honestly didn’t know what to say. Her coherent thoughts were as stunned as she was. Not just seeing him again, but realizing everything that had happened since he had left. How do you start a conversation?
“You.” was the best Buffy could come out with at the moment.
“Hey.”
“Lemme guess. Something really bad?”
“Yeah.”
After making an excuse to her male coworker about cramps and a headache, Buffy quickly left, following Riley out of Starbucks.
Riley eyed Buffy’s bare shoulders and the sweater tied around her waist, as they walked down the street. It was a cool evening.
“Aren’t you cold?”
Buffy gave a distracted glimpse of a smile.
“All the time.”
She ignored Riley’s puzzled expression, so he resumed walking and began to explain the situation to her.
“We've been tearing through every jungle from Paraguay up, taking out nests. As soon as we put one Suvolte down, a dozen take its place. They're breeders, Buffy. One turns into ten, ten becomes a hundred. This gets out of hand and there's a war with humans? Humans are gonna lose.”
“And now they’ve come here.”
“Not technically. Only one made it this far up but we took him out. Unfortunately, we needed it to locate its nest.”
“Nest?”
“We think it came to the Hellmouth to breed. And this problem gets worse. There’s a dealer who got a hold of the eggs and is planning to sell them to the highest bidder on the black market.”
Buffy nodded.
“Bad guy with eggs. Got it. I’ll talk to Spike, see if he knows something.”
They approached a dark-coloured jeep with a woman leaning casually against it.
“Hi hon,” Riley greeted her.
Buffy raised her eyebrows.
“Gonna introduce us?”
“Right,” Riley said with an abashed grin.
“Buffy, this is my wife, Sam. Sam, this is Buffy, the Slayer.”
Both women shook hands, each with a genuine smile on her face.
“It’s nice to meet you.”
“Pleasure’s mine.”
Buffy eyed the car.
“Nice wheels.”
“Came with the car,” Riley said. “Come on. We’ll give you a ride to the cemetery.”
--= * =-- --= * =-- --= * =--
Anya was going to throttle someone.
“I think we died in this car on the way to the airport, and now we're stuck in hell.”
Xander glanced at Anya from the driver’s seat.
“The radio said no traffic,” Xander said frustrated as he reached for one of the numerous, half-empty bags of chips on the dashboard.
“It's a hell radio, of course it said that. We'll never get to the airport in time to pick up your stupid uncle.”
“It just gives my uncle Rory more time at the bar. Trust me, he'll be happy.”
“Great. So he can sleep off his drunken stupor on our newly re-upholstered couch,” Anya said through a mouthful of chips.
“He can't afford a hotel.”
“Why are you defending him?” Anya said puzzled.
“I'm not. I hate my uncle. I hate my whole family. That's why I'm marrying you, to start a new family. Have children, make them hate us, then one day they'll get married, we'll sleep on their couch. It's the circle of life,” Xander said smiling.
“Well, the Knarals are teleporting in in twenty minutes. If I'm not there to greet them? Somebody's getting incinerated.”
“Why did we ever agree to have your friends, who are demons, and my family, who are monsters, stay at our place?”
“Well, I can only do so much, Xander. Planning this marriage is like staging the invasion of Normandy.”
“Without the laughs. We should have eloped.”
“No! I've been through too much planning this wedding, and it is /going/ to happen. It is going to be our perfect, perfect day if I have to kill every one of our guests and half this town to do it,” she said heatedly.
Xander glanced over at her bag of chips, noting the colours of the packaging.
“Mm. Cool Ranch?”
“Cajun Fiesta.”
Xander grabbed the bag from her and she reached for another one at her feet.
--= * =-- --= * =-- --= * =--
Buffy, Riley, and Sam wandered through the main cemetery in Sunnydale. The conversation had hit a roadblock, so Riley started it up again.
“How you doin'?”
Buffy nearly laughed
“Complicated question.”
“I hear ya. Got some, uh...big stories to tell you too. If we ever get half a second.”
“Did you die?”
“No.”
“I'm gonna win,” Buffy said with another distracted smile. She was hungry.
After a pause, Riley said.
“We should split up. Buffy, you and Sam check this cemetery and surrounding ones. See if--”
Suddenly, Buffy let out what sounded like a cross between a yelp and a squeak and jumped forward, holding her hands to her sides.
She turned around and came face to face with a smirking Spike. Riley and Sam turned also.
“Bastard,” she said in a mock-angry voice. He chuckled as he circled her until he stood next to her with an arm hanging lazily over her shoulders.
“You were downwind from me,” she stated with a pout.
“Yeah. I win. Pay up.”
She playfully glared but dug in her pocket for a minute before handing over three singles.
“Such large pots.” Sam laughed.
Buffy grinned.
“Well. It’s all I can spare for stupid bets at the moment.”
“Oh. I didn’t mean to--”
“Nah. Don’t worry about it.”
Sam smiled again.
Riley was surprised but hid it well. Spike and Buffy had obviously grown closer since he’d left.
“Spike.” His voice was void of any emotion.
“Whitebread.”
Buffy lightly smacked him.
“Be nicer. Oh and that’s Riley’s wife, Sam.”
Sam gave a friendly smile and said hi.
Spike nodded and saluted her.
“So...what are we doing?” Spike asked.
--= * =-- --= * =-- --= * =--
As luck would have it, Buffy, Spike, and April ran into an anonymous demon carrying the nest of Suvolte eggs the next night, while patrolling.
Buffy viciously swung a sword at it while Spike enthusiastically went after any unarmed part of the demon with his fangs and fists.
“Hi!” April waved and pointed to the axe still buried in its back. “I need that back.”
The demon roared and flung April into a large, cross-shaped headstone.
With attacks from three sides, it didn’t take long for the demon to collapse.
Buffy walked over to help April to her feet as Spike looked at the crumpled heap of branches and what looked to be mutated artichokes. He figured those to be the eggs.
“What do we do with these, pet?” He asked as Buffy ambled up to him, dragging her sword.
Buffy half-shrugged, dropped her sword, and proceeded to jump/stomp all over the nest until all eleven eggs were unrecognizable.
“Ah,” she breathed. “I think that should do it.”
“Yes that seems to have finished them off. Do you think Willow be mad that I have ripped my new shirt?” April inquired.
“New shirt?” Buffy asked.
“Willow took me to the mall the other day where she graciously purchased for me many delightful new clothes,” April relayed with a smile.
“That’s good for you. And no, I doubt Willow will get all angry-pants. She’ll probably just zap it fixed.”
“Zap?” April frowned.
“You know. With magick.”
“Ah yes.” April smiled again.
“April?” Buffy said.
“Yes?”
“Why don’t you head on home? Tell Willow and Dawn not to worry.”
“Okay. Goodbye Buffy and Spike.”
As she took off for home, Buffy turned to Spike with a glint in her eye and hot adrenaline still cascading through her from the fight. He let his head tilt to the side as he curled his tongue against his teeth.
She got closer to him, and leaned forward until their noses brushed.
“You want something?” She breathed into his parted lips which were so close to hers.
Her hand traveled up his thigh to the obvious bulge in his jeans. Buffy curled her fingers around his arousal, her nails biting into the denim. She stroked her palm up and down him, until his eyes closed and he growled with pleasure.
“Want to be inside me?” Buffy whispered huskily. The sound of her voice barely made it the short distance between her lips and his.
She waited until his eyes fully closed before saying:
“Then catch me.”
Her hand stopped moving and there was pause. In that split second, Spike’s eyes shot open and Buffy took off at a run, laughing.
“Minx,” he called with a grin and chased after her, his jeans chafing slightly.
As they raced through the cemetery in their odd fetish of cat and mouse, they both crossed paths with a scent that was so familiar it was nearly unrecognizable. And both dismissed the scent without a second thought, Buffy too focused on getting to the small clearing that was surrounded by trees before Spike caught her, and Spike was too focused on catching his girl.
Riley lost sight of them as they disappeared behind several trees. Slowly and quietly, he crept toward them until he was as close as he dared. Peering from behind an aged oak, Riley eyes watched silently and without emotion.
He had never seen Buffy or Spike fight like this. Each punch or kick was thrown with immense passion and violence, and Riley found himself confused. Buffy’s leer in the graveyard was hard to misinterpret and now they looked as though they were battling to the death.
Buffy landed a punch that hurled Spike to the ground on his back but when she tried to leap on top of him to continue her attack he used his legs to catapult her over him. She landed ungracefully. Quicker than Riley could follow, both were back on their feet, facing off again.
Riley wasn’t sure who an eminent snarl came from as it was lost in a cyclone of fists and kicks and head-butts and fangs. Suddenly, they parted, both rolling back to a safe distance. Spike had a gash above his left eye although Riley hadn’t seen any weapon on Buffy.
Spike’s eyes never left his adversary’s as he raised the back of his hand to head level and dragged his tongue over the small amount of blood slathered on his knuckles. Buffy blinked in surprise. Concentrating for a second and without looking down, she realized that Spike had managed to slice a small, shallow but bleeding nonetheless cut along the inside of her forearm.
As Spike’s tongue finished its hungry journey across his knuckles, his face warped into his vampire façade.
“Mmm...there’s my boy,” Buffy purred, and then they leapt into their brawl again.
The demon enhanced Spike’s strength enough to catch Buffy--who still appeared human--off-guard until he had her under a full-body pin; his hands kept her wrists pinned to the ground on either side of her head. She writhed under him until Spike started panting at the sensations her wriggling body was causing to course through him.
Buffy arched her back and stretched her head up slightly so she could lap at the cut above his eye. While Spike’s head was bowed and he was distracted, Buffy curled a leg up around his waist, effectively pulling him closer and giving her the ability to push them into a barrel roll, until she was lying on top of him. Both moaned at the friction in their groans that that motion caused.
It was then Riley realized for the first time just how much Buffy had had to hold back when she had been with him. If he and Buffy had tried to imitate what she had just done with Spike, he would have landed a few bruises in a good scenario, a concussion or a broken bone in a bad one.
She leaned back a little as he leaned forward, still kissing frantically, allowing both time to toss their jackets carelessly off to the side. He sat up and she wound her fingers into her hair while he gripped her hips. Clutching tightly, she forcefully wrenched him away from her. They locked eyes for a second, both panting unnecessarily, before she yanked him--still in his demon visage--toward her exposed neck.
She gasped and her eyes rolled up in ecstasy as his fangs sank into her pale throat.
Riley’s eyes widened. He should have guessed from the start that Buffy would become his chew toy. And if it hadn’t been Spike, it probably would have been another vampire. She couldn’t stay away from them.
Riley didn’t notice when Buffy’s free hand had wiggled between her and Spike’s grinding bodies to unzip any offending zippers.
Riley was mad. She broke up with him because of his addiction to being bitten when she turned out to be just as bad as he was, though he paid money. He couldn’t get as angry as he wanted to; he knew the attraction, the erotica of a vampire’s bite. He wasn’t jealous--he loved Sam; they were happy--but he was worried about Buffy’s welfare. There was only so far an addiction could carry you before you get killed.
Riley looked up from his thoughts to see Buffy rip Spike’s fangs out of her by the hold she still had on his hair. She gave him a pointed grin before sliding forward onto him. Spike’s eyes fell closed and Buffy’s mouth opened in a silent scream.
Riley wondered if Buffy’s friends knew about her and Spike. He doubted it. The Buffy he knew would have been ashamed about this when brought to the light of day. Maybe she wasn’t the Buffy he knew. He would have to find out, he decided as he crept away from the clearing sparing one last glance at the passion-fueled pair.
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