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Chapter Fifteen

Buffy awoke to the feel of Spike’s cool fingers gently stroking the skin on her arm and she opened her eyes to see him staring at the ceiling, not even aware of what he was doing. That he would touch her in such a gentle, absent-minded way when he was obviously thinking about something else, and when he thought she was asleep and unaware of it, told her all she needed to know about her safety around the blonde vampire.

(Although, the fact that I woke up all alive and breathing after sleeping in his arms, pretty much says he meant what he said about never hurting me. If he wanted to kill me, while I was sleeping on top of him would have been a good time for it.)

“Good morning,” she said softly, so as not to startle him out of his deep thoughts.

He immediately turned his head to smile at her and drop a kiss on her forehead.

“Good morning, love. No more dreams?”

“Nope, not a one. Not even one about Brad Pitt, damn it...”

Spike’s growl made her giggle and poke him.

“Not much for humor in the morning, are you?” she teased.

“Didn’t hear anything particularly funny, Slayer,” he rumbled, but the faint smile on his face told her he knew she was kidding. “But I’ve got to say, if it’s a choice between Angelus and that wimpy movie whelp, I guess I’d rather you were dreaming about a willing shag with him than a....” He stopped and glanced down at her again.

“That WAS what last night’s dream was about again, wasn’t it?” He frowned down at her. “I want to hear it, Buffy. We’ve got to suss this out. I need to know how much danger you might be in-“

“Hey! My dreams to the contrary, I AM a fully functional slayer. I’ve kicked Angelus’ ass before, and I’ll do it again if I have to.”

“Didn’t mean to imply you couldn’t or wouldn’t, Slayer,” he said in a placating manner. “Just want to have your back and to do that I need to know what I’m dealing with.”

Buffy sat up, blushing at his smile of approval when she didn’t try to pull the sheet up to cover herself. Starting at the beginning, when she couldn’t sense him anywhere and admitting, shame-faced, how terrifying that was, she recited the whole nightmare. When she got to the part where Angelus flinched back from her neck and roared his displeasure about whatever prevented him from biting her, she was surprised to see Spike’s eyes widen in shock. She stopped and looked at him questioningly, but he shook his head and gestured for her to continue.

She tried to remember Angelus’ exact words as he faced his grandchilde, holding a naked Buffy by the arm. When she came to Darla’s flinging her aside and her inability to come to his aid as they ripped into him, tears filled her eyes and she stopped to throw her arms around him again and whisper apologetically, “I couldn’t move, Spike. I wanted to help you and I couldn’t move again. I’m s-so sorry.”

He wrapped his arms around her, murmuring soothingly, “Shh, pet. It’s okay. It was just a dream. Know that’s not you, don’t I? Know you’d never leave a...friend...like that. Not my Slayer. It didn’t happen, sweetheart, and I can’t imagine it ever will. You’re getting yourself all wound up about nothing.”

When Buffy had stopped sniffling and sat up straight again, he looked at her sternly.

“That doesn’t mean we don’t need to suss out why you keep dreaming that you can’t fight Angelus off, or even why the miserable bastard is around again. Did you say in the latest dream we were back in our time?”

Buffy nodded her head. “Yes, we were definitely us. They were wearing modern clothes, and Angelus knew who I was and he...he called me ‘lover’ like he did before when he lost his soul. But Darla was there, and she’s been dust for almost four years!”

“Let’s leave the tart out of it for a minute, and concentrate on the other two. You say Dru was there again? What did she do?”

“Just danced around babbling about how I didn’t tell you something or other and you went away because you thought I didn’t...oh, who knows? She was wrong, anyway, because you did come for me.”

“Always will, love,” he said almost absently as he mulled over her words. “And the big poof said as soon as he killed me, he could have you? Is that right?”

“Yeah – he was all ‘you won’t be protected anymore’ or something like that. Do you know what it means?”

“Maybe,” was the careful reply. “That’s not the important thing right now. We need to concentrate on the things that have been the same in every dream.”

He ticked them off on his fingers, “Peaches without his soul, Dru drifting around but not doing anything but talking to you about me, the blonde whore somehow back in the mix, and you not able to move to defend yourself. That about it?”

“That and the fact that Angelus apparently plans to rape and turn me – although so far, that hasn’t happened. You always seem to show up and get yourself trashed trying to save me.”

She smiled at him with gratitude, then frowned and added, “Which, I would not like to have happen, by the way. I’m just beginning to appreciate this body; I really don’t want it all torn up.”

She grinned wickedly and ran a hand down his muscular chest to his flat abdomen, giggling at the tent that immediately rose in the sheet covering his hips and legs.

He grabbed her hand and put it on his covered erection, growling softly, “Neither do I, love. But just in case, feel free to start appreciating it right now...”

Buffy gave him a little squeeze, which brought a groan and caused the vampire’s eyes to darken as he reached for her. Before they could take it any further, they heard Molly knocking on Buffy’s door, then opening it and entering the room. With a sigh, Spike released her hand and kissed her quickly.

“Bloody servants, thinking they know when we should be getting out of bed,” he grumbled, tossing Buffy’s nightgown to her and pulling his own shirt over his head quickly.

By the time Molly left Buffy’s empty bedroom and knocked timidly on the door to Spike’s, they were both covered and Buffy was out of bed. With another quick kiss, Buffy walked to the door and opened it, joining the startled girl in the hallway.

“Good morning, Molly,” she said cheerfully. “Did we oversleep again? I think we’ll just leave William to nap a little longer while you and I plan our day.”

As she spoke, she was leading a confused Molly back to her own room and pulling open the curtains to let in the late morning sunshine. She distracted the girl with a flurry of questions about what she was going to wear and where she might be going that afternoon until the servant almost forgot that the master of the house was sound asleep in a dark room at 10:30 in the morning.

Spike slept until the early afternoon, joining Buffy then for an early supper and wandering freely around the east side of the house where there were no rays of sunshine to worry about. He spent the rest of the afternoon setting the groundwork for any possible sudden disappearances by the newly married couple, knowing that Buffy’s watcher would be doing whatever he could to bring them back to their own time.

He also made sure that Mrs. Barstow and the solicitor had met and that she understood that he would be handling the household finances in Spike’s absence.

“So, I’m to understand that you and Mrs. Sinclair do not intend to remain in this house for long?” Cook inquired with a trace of disapproval.

“No, I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Cook,” William replied. “While I certainly appreciate your coming out of retirement to take care of us, I do not want to impose on you any longer than necessary. When we leave, it will be just as it was before. I would like you to check on the house occasionally, perhaps have George send a crew to keep the gardens tidy, and see that it is kept in good repair.

“Mr. Saint-John will see that there are always funds available for upkeep and to repay you for your time and efforts. The house will remain in our possession, but we may, at some future time, rent it out in which case Mr. Saint- John will find a rental agent to handle things and you may retire completely.”

“Very good, master William. We will be sorry to see you go – especially Molly. She has become quite fond of your bride.”

“She’s a good girl, Cook. Buffy is very fond of her also. If it were possible to take her with us when we leave, I am sure she would want to do so. However, our lives are somewhat... unconventional, and it would not be in Molly’s best interest for us to take her. Please be sure she understands that, if we, for some reason, do not have a chance to say our farewells to her.”

“And why would that be?” Cook took advantage of her position as someone who had known him since he was a child to tap her foot and demand an explanation for such a potential lack of courtesy.

William shook his head, wishing he’d thought a little further ahead before beginning the conversation.

“I don’t know that it will. Certainly I would hope that we would have time before we have to leave to do it in a proper manner. But, the possibility exists that we may find ourselves leaving quite suddenly, with little time for packing or saying good-byes and if that happens, I want you to be prepared for the possibility. I have left letters with Mr. St. John for each of you, which he will distribute if it should happen that Mrs. Sinclair and I find ourselves unable to pay our respects before returning to her country.”

He could tell the old family retainer wanted to ask more questions, but her respect for their respective social positions kept her from pursuing the strange conversation and she simply nodded her head and went back to work preparing their supper.

When Mrs. Barstow had left for the evening, taking Molly with her for a night off, Buffy and Spike quickly changed into their patrolling clothes and slipped out of the house. They strolled through several cemeteries, dusting one newly risen fledgling before he even had time to figure out what he was. They were starting toward home when Spike hissed and touched Buffy’s arm.

“They’re around somewhere, pet,” he whispered.

“I feel him,” she said shortly, casting her Slayers senses around trying to find the location from which Angelus’ signature was coming.

“Not close by,” Spike said softly, “but somewhere around.”

“That’s not all I feel,” Buffy growled. “You need to give me some room – I think I’m about to get some exercise.”

“Got your back, Slayer. Have fun.”

Spike faded into the shadows as Buffy waited for the vampires she could feel approaching. He smiled as she rolled her shoulders and stretched while waiting for the first vampire to step forward.

“So, dead and smelly, are we going to do this?”

The vampire stared at her in confusion. “Do what? I’m a vampire, you’re food. Food doesn’t talk, it screams.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Buffy. The Vampire Slayer? And you are....dust!” she finished as the onrushing vampire impaled himself on her stake.

The other newly-made minions that were with him, paused and looked at each other in confusion. No one had told them about Slayers – the two older vamps who’d sired them simply told them to go find the two blondes and to kill or capture the girl. Deciding their companion’s dusting was an accident, they rushed the petite woman facing them, only to be met with a whirling dervish whose feet and fists caused damage all out of proportion to her size.

Spike watched in admiration as she whirled, punched, kicked, staked and spun her way through the small group of vampires. When the last one was dust floating away from the point of her stake, she finally stood still and looked in the direction from which the minions had come.

“Hey, Angelus,” she shouted, “I hear Paris is very nice this time of year. You should think about it.”

The trace of Angel’s signature that she’d felt before was gone so quickly she wasn’t sure she hadn’t imagined it was there. She turned to Spike for confirmation and he was laughing so hard he couldn’t talk to her at first.

“What?” Buffy asked innocently. “Was I too subtle?”

“You were amazing, pet,” he gasped, picking her up and twirling her around. “Damn, I love you!”

The minute the words left his lips, he wanted to bite them back; the shocked expression on her face telling him more than he wanted to know about her reaction.

“You...you what me?” Her voice was barely a squeak as she stared down at his mortified face.

“Just a heat of the moment outburst, Slayer,” he backpedaled quickly, setting her back down on the ground and moving away. “Doesn’t really mean anything. Jus’ got a little over-excited by the way you handled the situation.”

“Oh,” she said, smothering the disappointment she didn’t want to acknowledge feeling. “Well, it’s nice to know you enjoyed the show.”

They began walking again, maintaining a physical distance that was as uncomfortable as was the silence between them.

(Bollocks! Not that I’m not sure it’s probably true, but it’s too soon to let her know. Now I’ve scared her. I’ll never learn to keep my big mouth shut.

(Okay, he says he didn’t mean it. Of course he didn’t mean it! Vampire, evil, - okay, not so evil anymore, but still...Can’t love without a soul, right? That’s what Angel told me. But Spike loved Drusilla. Still does apparently. Enough not to let me slay her. So, if he loved Drusilla, he could love me. But he took it back. Said he didn’t mean it. But he acts like he loves me. Most of the time, anyway. What if he does love me? Do I want him to love me? In my dreams he must love me or he wouldn’t keep getting himself beat up for me. Is that what the dreams are telling me? That Spike loves me?)

The longer Buffy trudged along in silence, the more Spike cursed himself for blurting out what he now had to admit was probably the truth. He did love her. He just hadn’t realized how much until they’d fallen into his bed and become lost in each other.

(The question is, mate, how does she feel about you? Poor little chit’s never had a real man make love to her. Could be all she’s feeling is normal, healthy lust. Just cause she’s enjoying some new experiences doesn’t mean she’s gonna forget what I am or what happened to her the last time she loved a vampire.)

They were still lost in their own thoughts when Spike realized they were approaching the spot where they were deposited so unceremoniously several nights before. He touched Buffy’s arm briefly and when she turned to see what he wanted, he said, “This is the place we landed, pet. You know your watcher’s doing what he can to get us back...well, to get you back, anyway,” he grimaced.
“We should probably check here every night, just in case we have to be standing in the same spot or something like that.”

Buffy nodded her head in understanding. “You’re probably right. If we came through a portal of some sort, it makes sense it would re-open in the same place. We should check for it as often as we can, just so we don’t miss it.”

“Alright, then. That’s our new evening agenda. Go out, check portal, patrol, check portal, go home. Maybe we can find some layabout to pay to keep an eye on the spot for us in the daytime. Have to talk to George about that tomorrow.”

By the time they reached the house, they were almost comfortable with each other again, and both were hoping the awkwardness between them was gone for good. Those hopeful thoughts lasted until they had made their way upstairs and found themselves standing irresolutely between the two bedrooms.

“Buffy-“

“Spike-“

They laughed nervously, and looked away from each other like shy teenagers.

“Bloody hell!” Spike’s explosive epithet broke the impasse. “I don’t want you to sleep alone tonight, Buffy. I can’t take back what I said. It’s out there and you heard it. But if it’s going to keep you away from me...”

“I...I don’t want to sleep alone,” she said softly.

“Then why are we standing in the hall here like idiots? Grab that ridiculous nightie and get your delectable arse in my room. I’ll give you five minutes.”

“Or what?” she challenged.

“Or...or...or I’ll have to wait longer for you, I guess,” he admitted with a resigned shrug.

When Buffy appeared in his doorway several minutes later, hairbrush in hand and voluminous nightgown on, he shook his head at her and said casually, “When we get back, I’m taking you lingerie shopping. I don’t ever want to see that tent again.”

Silence fell between them again as each thought back to their lives in Sunnydale and wondered how they were going to reconcile their new relationship with the expectations waiting for them there. Buffy winced as she remembered that she actually already had a boyfriend. One who, she was sure, was not going to take very well the news that she’d been living with Spike. Spike remembered the same boyfriend, and her demon-hating friends and wondered what she was going to tell them about their stay in merry old England.

Shaking off his fears as something to worry about if and when it appeared that they were on their way back, he walked over to her and took the hairbrush. He gently pushed her down on the bed, got behind her, and began carefully brushing her silky hair. Buffy sighed and relaxed into the sensually soothing motions. When she leaned back against his chest, he dropped the brush and began to nuzzle her neck.

“Mmmmmmm” she murmured, turning her head around so he could kiss her more easily. He put his arms around her and pulled her into his lap where she could feel his growing erection against her cheeks. Sliding his hand under the gown and into her warmth, he noticed that she was already wet. He groaned in wonder at her responsiveness.

“You are so hot, baby. So wonderfully warm and tight. Want you so much,” he breathed into her ear as he teased her with his fingers. “Love the way you get wet for me. Need to feel you...” Without turning her around, he lifted her up and brought her down carefully onto his waiting shaft.

“Is that alright, love?” he murmured in to her ear, running his hands up to cup her breasts. “Doesn’t hurt you like this, does it?”

Lost in the multiple sensations of his fingers working her breasts and clit at the same time and his thick shaft filling her channel, Buffy could only shake her head and whimper. Spike pulled the nightgown over her head and rested his chin on her shoulder. He felt her muscles tighten around him as his attention to her clit brought her quickly to an edge. With nowhere to put her hands in that position, she reached behind and wrapped them around Spike’s head, playing with the soft curls at the nape of his neck. She arched her body as he began to move his hips gently, nudging her toward her first orgasm of the night.

“Open your eyes, love,” he whispered in her ear and she obeyed to find herself reflected in the mirror. Her eyes were glazed with lust and her body was arching backwards as she spread her legs to allow Spike greater access.

“Look how pretty you are, sweetheart. Like little rosy petals, all open for me. Look at yourself, Buffy. You’re beautiful.”

Buffy was torn between embarrassment and fascination as he urged her to watch herself having sex with an invisible man. She could see her rosy little nubbin flatten out, then spring up again as his fingers manipulated it. She tried to watch her face as she fell over the edge into a shuddering orgasm, but her eyes went shut of their own volition as though her body refused to be distracted from the sensations ripping through her body.

Without withdrawing from her clenching walls, the vampire managed to turn her around so that he could lay her down on the bed and cover her with his own body. She immediately wrapped her arms and legs around him, holding his emotion-filled eyes with hers as she let her body say the words she couldn’t allow herself to think.

Before she had completely recovered from the first orgasm, Buffy found herself spiraling up again to join him as he pounded into her until his own release left him shaking and clinging to the girl beneath him. The hope inspired by the look in her eyes as she clung to him lent another level of intensity to the powerful feelings sweeping through him as he emptied himself into her welcoming depths.

When he had stopped shaking with the intensity of his orgasm, and Buffy was breathing almost normally again, he reluctantly rolled off of her and reached for the bedding. He covered them up and pulled her into his arms, curling himself around her warm body and purring as he let sleep take him.





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