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“Did you build her?” Sam asked Willow, glancing over at April who had been switched off for the night and was now lying on the couch.

“No. This weirdo did but then he abandoned her and Buffy took her to me for reprogramming. Do you want tea?”

Sam followed Willow into the kitchen and Willow set the kettle on.

“Sure. Thanks. So...Riley says you're coming on as one majour-league Wicca. How’s that going?”

Willow stance grew tense.

“I can’t do the magicks. I...I won’t do it anymore. I got addicted...the way addicts do.”

Willow started bustling around, getting the mugs, the sugar, the tea bags, anything to keep her busy.

Sam looked upset and bit her lip.

“Hey. I'm sorry.”

Willow didn’t look at her but she stopped bustling around.

Sam continued.

“You know, back in the jungle...we had not one, but two hard-core shamans working for us...they were working the dark magicks, and...got addicted. And now they're gone.”

Willow turned and looked at her. Sam continued speaking

“Gone...as in...there's nothing left. I've never met anyone with enough strength to quit before.”

Willow glanced down but said nothing.

“I'm just saying,” Sam said.

There was a pregnant moment of silence before Willow looked up with a little smile.

“Thanks.”

Sam smiled a bright, genuine smile back.

“What made you quit? If I’m not over-stepping anything...I’m curious.”

“Um...my girlfriend left me after I botched a pretty big spell that almost got someone hurt. After that I decided I was done but I slipped once. We were being attacked and it was just reactionny.”

“That’s okay. Done anything since that?”

The kettle began to whistle and Willow switched off the stove.

“Nope,” she said with a smile and began to pour the hot water.

“Do you take milk and sug--”

Suddenly the front door slammed open and Riley walked in looking a little hurried.

“Both please,” Sam answered Willow.

“Hey Riley. Want some tea?” Willow said.

“Buffy’s not--”

“I know. I know. She’s not coming home tonight. April told me,” Willow said as she handed Sam her mug.

“Thanks.”

“No. I mean Buffy is...she’s with Spike!”

Sam and Willow giggled and gave each other looks that clearly said that they had gossiped about this already.

“Well...yeah, Riley,” Willow said with a smile.

“Yeah. It’s just she and...he bites her.”

“Vampires do bite, remember?”

“But he shouldn’t. It’s wrong. I know this. What if she gets hurt? What if he kills her?”

Willow couldn’t help it; she started grinning as she spoke.

“Buffy’s happy and what if--”

Suddenly Willow burst into laughter, cutting herself off and spilling some of her tea as she put it on the counter. Sam chewed on her lip and almost choked in an attempt not to follow suite.

“Riley, honey...” Sam started after regaining a little composure.

Riley shook his head, frustrated at Willow’s reaction. Why didn’t she care if her best friend was toying with death?

Riley threw his hands up and stomped out of the kitchen through the back door.

Sam looked at Willow with an expression of amusement on her face.

“Think he knows she’s a vampire?”

Willow gasped in some air.

“Not a chance.”


--= * =-- --= * =-- --= * =--


Buffy’s dreams were nearly as intense. Somehow they made managed to get themselves to Spike’s crypt and after several more hours of hot, desperate love-making, they finally collapsed in exhaustion on the stone sarcophagus.

And now she dreamt. The images bled together in a strange phantasmagoria. Some visuals were gentle: her and Spike in the sunlight, their hands linked; her alone holding a big, bright pink rose; her surrounded by all her friends, again in sunlight.

The scene shifted and grew darker as she looked over from the vibrant flower and watched Spike walk up to her. He held out a thorn-riddled red rose. She looked at it, then back at him and found him in his demonic visage. She dropped the now-dead pink rose and took the red one from Spike, letting her own face change.

Buffy suddenly looked down at her hand; it had been nicked by a thorn. No sooner than Spike brought her hand to his mouth to lick it clean then she began to be barraged by more violent images: her and Spike screaming, clawing at each other during rough sex, their demon sex; her letting go and sinking her fangs into his neck; her feeling his fangs in her throat and reveling in the pain that danced tantalizingly close to pleasure.

All this time, she hadn’t stirred in her sleep. Neither set of visuals disturbed her enough to rustle her sleeping state. She didn’t know which genre of images she preferred. She knew which one she was /supposed/ to prefer but she didn’t want to give up her demon just to pick flowers in the sunlight. And as her dreams were proving, Spike could give her flowers too.

Spike hardly had dreams anymore. The Sandman saw no need to visit the dead and only did it periodically: if it was important or if he was bored. The last dream Spike had had informed him that he had fallen in love with the Vampire Slayer. It had had so much impact because that had been Spike’s first dream after a span of a dreamless two years.

For all the enhanced vampire hearing, neither of them stirred when Riley kicked the crypt door open. When he noticed neither of them had woken up he paused to take in the scene in front of him.

The scene was like a painting of the perfect vampire lair: two naked, pale bodies intimately entwined together on a bleak stone sarcophagus, both barely covered by an aged back, leather coat; his head nestled lazily in the comforting valley of her chest, one of his hands resting on her visible inner thigh possessively; one of her hands was on his back, the other locked in his silvery hair; a burnt-out cigarette butt was still loosely docked in his other hand, which was dangling off the edge of the sarcophagus.

Riley considered just leaving right then and there. It really wasn’t his business anymore if Buffy wanted to be with Spike. Then Riley noticed the prominent bite mark on her exposed neck and changed his mind. He wouldn’t leave her as a vampire’s meal ticket. She was better than that

It was then Riley realized with a heart-stopping jolt that Buffy wasn’t breathing.

“Buffy?!” He yelled and ran toward the sleeping couple.

*Oh God. She’s dead. She’s dead. She’s dead. He did it. He killed her.* Riley thought in a panic as he approached them. He grabbed her shoulder and shook her insistently.

“What?” She whined, tired and annoyed, as she lifted her head and blearily opened an eye.

“You’re alive,” Riley said relieved.

Buffy frowned and lay her head back down.

“No I’m not,” she said half-asleep. Her eyes closed again.

“Buffy!” Riley yelled and shook her again. This time Spike woke up too, seeing as his head was on her chest and Riley was aggressively shaking her shoulder.

He groggily looked up as Buffy eyes snapped open again, this time they were yellow and irritated.

Riley stepped back in shock as Buffy’s face fully changed and she propped herself up on her elbows.

“What the--oh it’s you,” Spike said indifferently and dropped his finished cigarette before turning his head so that he was facing away from Riley, in an attempt to get back to sleep. Even just a few hours in bed with a Slayer can really take it out of you. Not just literally.

Buffy looked affectionately down at the vampire on her chest.

Riley smacked his forehead. *That’s why the chip didn’t go off last night.*

“You...you killed her,” Riley said accusingly to Spike.

“Uh-huh,” Spike said in a sleepy stupor.

“How? The chip should have gone off. Is it malfunctioning? Does she have a soul?”
Riley babbled.

Buffy and Spike both groaned. They weren’t getting back to sleep anytime soon.

“Riley!” Buffy interrupted.

He looked at her and Spike.

“You turn around so I can get dressed?”

Riley hesitated, not wanting to turn his back on two potentially dangerous vampires.

“C’mon. I promise not to bite you while your back’s turned,” she said with a hint of mockery.

Finally, the gentleman in him won over and Riley turned around. He stared at the crypt door and listened to Buffy and Spike share a quick kiss before bustling around getting their clothes.

“This is gonna hurt,” Spike said.

Riley turned around at this not to find either vampire poised to attack but to find Spike sitting on the sarcophagus, still shirtless. Riley realized he was referring to a particularly large bruise on his side that the Slayer had given him in their brawl has night.

Buffy looked up at him from the floor where she was pulling on her socks; her face was human again.

“Bloody morning after bruises,” he muttered.

Buffy chuckled and stood up.

“Like you didn’t enjoy them. And I’ve got a few of my own to complain about.”

“This is bad,” Riley started unceremoniously.

Both vampires raised their eyebrows and looked over at him.

“Buffy. Come on. You’re better than this.”

“Better than what?” She asked suspiciously.

“Him.”

She rolled her eyes. Spike drowsily watched the conversation, still not fully awake.

“Why?”

“You’re addicted.”

“To what?”

“Being bitten.”

Spike chuckled.

“She’s the one biting half the time, mate.”

Riley tossed a glare his way.

“I don’t want you to spend your life--”

“Unlife,” Buffy muttered.

“--as some idiot vampire’s chew toy.”

“Rather I be your chew toy?” Buffy asked, vexed.

She was hungry. She had given Spike a few marks last night but those bites were for foreplay not hunger. As erotic as they were, she was still hungry.

“What? No.” Riley said quickly.

She stepped forward and let her face melt into her demonic features.

“Sure? If I remember correctly...” she said slowly with a hint of seduction. “...you like being bitten. And I’m hungry. So that works out then.”

Her yellow eyes told Riley that she wasn’t bluffing. He fearfully took a step backwards.

She was about to take another advancing step when she was stopped by Spike’s commanding grip on her arms. She was confused as to why Spike would stop her.

He jerked her backwards until she was pressed against his bare chest; his arms encircled her, effectively pinning her arms to her sides and her to his body.

A small gasp escaped her. He was holding her so tightly that it had forced most of the air out of her lungs.

“What?” she breathed quickly.

“You’ll be biting no one but me, Slayer,” he said with a touch of menace to his voice.

She frowned. He hadn’t called her Slayer for a while. It had been ‘Buffy’ and ‘pet’ and ‘luv’ for months.

When conscious, her body hadn’t yet learned that it didn’t need to breathe. Her breath came in shallow gasps.

“Jealous...much? I was...just going...to eat...him,” she panted.

Riley looked at the lock Spike had on Buffy and took another step back. He figured he had better prepare himself to run if Spike was the only thing standing between his life and his death at Buffy’s hands.

“‘Course I’m jealous. Your fangs are mine, Slayer. And you’re one of the good guys. You don’t kill people,” he spoke dangerously low into her ear.

“Haven’t...eaten,” Buffy hissed.

“I have bagged blood in the fridge, you know that. What would Dawn think?” Spike whispered suddenly. Buffy’s ragged breathing faltered for a minute before she began gasping again. Spike’s iron grip hadn’t budged.

Riley watched on, stunned, as Buffy’s face slid back to her human façade. Her eyes were downcast and she seemed lost, trapped between her instincts and her human emotional attachments.

“Dawn...” she whispered.

“How would the Bit feel if you came home with blood on your hands?”

She had stopped breathing and hadn’t noticed. Her eyes were becoming increasingly glassy.

“Get out of here Riley,” Spike said in a commandingly. “Go back to your wife where you belong.”

Buffy gasped in a shock of air and began exhaling distressed sobs. Spike let the strength in his grip wane and immediately Buffy began to sink towards the floor. She would have collapsed if Spike hadn’t held her up. His arms had shifted from being her prison to her source of comfort as more traumatized sobs wracked her body.

Riley hesitated for a split second more before turning on his heel and hurriedly striding to the exit.


--= * =-- --= * =-- --= * =--


“Well, the wedding itself was held in a military chopper just before a hairy night drop into hostile territory,” Sam was saying.

“Huh! And just curious, what's a chopper rental run these days?” Xander inquired.

Riley and Willow exchanged an amused look.

“Oh, well, actually, we commandeered it from a local guerilla squad, so...cheap.”

“Oh!”

“Yeah.”

Willow, Giles, and Dawn ambled over to where Sam, Riley, and Xander were standing. Riley wasn’t saying much.

Sam turned to Willow.

“You have my email, you promise you'll keep in touch?”

“Oh definitely! You won't get traced? I don't wanna lead the bad guys to your location by mistake.”

Sam smiled.

“Our line's secure.”

Willow smiled back.

“Oh, huh, duh, of course it is! I keep thinking of you like regular people, but no, you're not.”

“Oh, right, like demon-hunting is all exotic to a girl from Sunnydale.”

Sam hugged Willow and Xander while Dawn walked up to confront Riley.

“So you gonna say goodbye this time, or just...split all secret-agenty like last time?”

The sound of a helicopter began wafting down to the group gathered in the Summers front yard.

“Depends. I warrant a hug?”

Dawn didn't smile but she stepped forward and granted Riley a stiff hug. Then he pulled back to look at her face.

“Goodbye, Dawn.”

“I thought it would suck less this time. It doesn't.”

Riley smiled fondly at her.

“Be strong for your sister all right?”

Dawn frowned with a confused expression on her face.

“Yeah...okay.”

“It was really nice meeting you all,” Sam said before tapping Riley on the shoulder. “You ready for Nepal, agent?”

Riley bid Xander and Giles goodbye and followed Sam onto the street. The helicopter noise grew significantly louder and its lights glared down, illuminating the cluster of people.

Riley and Sam moved a bit away from the others.

“Fire-fights, bug hunts, big body counts...yeah, I could use a break,” Riley said answering Sam as a thin wire descended from the helicopter. Riley attached it to his belt, and he and Sam put their arms around each other. Riley tugged on the line twice to signal the pilot.

Willow waved as they rose into the air. Riley stared at Sunnydale and wondered if he should have told Giles or Willow about Buffy’s actions.

“Bye!” Willow called.

“Bye! Bye Riley! Bye Sam!” Xander yelled.

Dawn, Xander, Willow, and Giles all watched until the chopper’s lights disappeared from view.

“Where’s Buffy?” Giles inquired.

“Where else?” Willow answered.

Giles understood and frowned as his thoughts again drifted as to how to confront Buffy about her increasingly-violent actions.


--= * =-- --= * =-- --= * =--


Spike held Buffy close and waited until she had cried herself out. Eventually, the combination of her slumber being cut short, her desperate tears, and the appalled feeling she had at herself rocked her to sleep. Her head was on his bare shoulder and her breathing was shallow and irregular.

Spike sadly sighed and gently nudged her sideways until he could easily slip one arm under her knees and set the other one under her upper back. Slowly, he lifted her up and still only wearing his jeans began the journey to her house.

Silent, unregistered tears slid leisurely down his face as he walked through the misty night. What had he done to his sweet Buffy? Spike swallowed visibly. It didn’t matter now. She’d probably return to normal by morning and resume the life she was trying to lead before he killed her. That life included locking him out.

She sighed in her sleep and Spike committed to memory exactly what her room-temperature body felt like in his arms. He doubted that she’d ever willingly fall into them again. If her bout of weeping hadn’t been a sign that her epiphany had come, nothing was.


--= * =-- --= * =-- --= * =--


Author’s Note: If you’re disappointed because I didn’t bash Riley enough or whatever just remember that Joss never utterly bashed one character so neither will I.





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