“Don’t bloody care who’s here, pet.” Spike panted, thrusting the heated flesh of his shaft into Buffy’s cool palm that was still grasping him tightly. “Let ‘em enjoy the show.”

“What? No, not here here, Spike, like here in Sunnydale.” Buffy exclaimed exasperatedly as she quickly set to work stuffing his dick back into his pants; only to receive a growl of impatience from Spike. “Willow and Xander are in town, I can feel them.”

“Right, tha’s a bit on the weird side. You feel them?”

“That’s one of my many strange talents that have yet to be explored.” Buffy said wryly, extending a hand to help Spike off the cracked vinyl sofa. “For now, you need to make sure your little friends are tucked safely into their warm beds and do the same for you until I can find my insane, whack job sires and figure out what their plan is, ok?”

“What? You expect me to just run along home with my tail stuck between my legs like some simpering ponce? No bloody way!”

“Please, Spike, for once in your life don’t cop an ‘All High and Mighty Slayer’ attitude with me. They are really strong and more powerful than any other monster that goes bump in the night that you have dealt with. You think I was tough? I’ve got nothing on them, except maybe the whole look into my eyes thingy. They are sick, Spike; evil down to the last drop. Xander, well he’s just along for the massacre. It’s Willow who has the vendetta against you. She’s the one that will make sure that not only you suffer, but anyone you care about will be a pawn in her sick little game.”

“Me? What the hell did I do to her?”

“Um…well, that’s a topic that definitely needs to be dealt with some other time, ok? Don’t have the time right now, just please, go get your friends and make sure they get home so you don’t have to worry about them.”

“Fine, I’ll make sure they are taken care of, but I am not going home. If there are two new baddies in my town, I need to patrol.”

“Ok, whatever…just watch your back. I’m gonna go see if I can find them and figure out whatever they’re planning; which is going to be really hard since I reek of eau de Slayer.” Stepping closer to Spike, Buffy stood on the tips of her toes and lightly brushed a kiss across his lips. “I’ll find you later.”

Spike stood rooted in place as he watched her retreating form disappear down the stairs and into the gyrating mass of bodies below. After a few moments, he mentally shook himself back into reality and followed in her footsteps in search for his friends. Spotting most of them sitting comfortably in the same booth as before, Spike weaved his way through the crowd until he was standing next to Gunn.

“Well, that didn’t take too long, stud.” Gunn stated sarcastically, grinning ear to ear. “Guess that means I’m off the hook for the next round, right?”

“Not now, Gunn.” Spike interjected, giving his friend a look that plainly stated that he wasn’t in the mood. “Look, something bad ‘s brewing and I need you and Angel to make sure that Fred gets home safely and then do the same for yourselves. Can you do that for me, mate? ‘ve got to go out and patrol until I know what exactly is going on.”

“Yeah, man. No problem. You sure you don’t need any help out there?”

“Honestly, I probably do, but I’d feel better knowing everyone was all right.” Turning around to look out to the dance floor, he said, “Where is Fred by the way?”

“Shaking her groove thang with some guy she met at the bar. I think I see her up towards the stage.”

“I’ll go get her so that I can apologize for ruining her birthday celebration and bring her back to you.” With a grim expression, Spike made his way towards Fred and interrupted her dancing; all the while being on the receiving end of a nasty look from the guy next to her. After a brief explanation and apology, Spike brushed a kiss across her check and promised to do something extra special once everything settled down.

After dropping Fred off with Gunn and Angel, Spike finally left the club and headed towards town in search of Willow and Xander. What he hadn’t expected though, was to run straight into Tara in front of the coffee shop down town.

“S...s…pike, what a s..s…surprise!” She stuttered as she juggled a cup of coffee and a stack of books.

“Bit late for studying don’ you think?” Spike asked, reaching out quickly to catch a wayward book before it tumbled to the ground. He caught a glimpse of the cover before handing it back to Tara. “Mating Rituals of Vampires? Doesn’ sound like something from the required reading list.”

“Oh, uh…it’s just a strange hobby of mine, really; vampires, werewolves, ghosts and goblins and what not. So, what are you doing tonight?”

“Er…on my way home from a party.” Spike fibbed.

“Ah, an illustrious social life, something I seem to be lacking lately. I’m heading home, myself.” Tara kidded, nodding head in the direction of her apartment.

“Well then, wouldn’t be too gentlemanly of me if I didn’ walk you home.” Figuring offering to walk her home was a safe cover for making sure she got there in once piece and didn’t blow his Slayer cover. While his closer friends new about his sacred duty, Spike preferred not to spread the word around; although he always suspected that Tara knew more about his alter ego than she let on, never questioning his sudden disappearing acts or the presence of stakes in his book bag at study sessions.

After taking the cumbersome books from Tara, the two began the trek across town to her small, but quaint apartment was located. As with most areas in Sunnydale, a slight jaunt through a graveyard provided them with a shortcut and Spike groaned loudly when he heard the tell tale sounds of a tussle from inside the supposed peaceful resting grounds. Pausing long enough to set the books on a nearby tombstone, Spike headed inside the darkened graveyard after telling Tara to stay put.

Stake in hand, Spike cautiously approached what appeared to be two figures locked in a grappling session near a towering crypt. Moving closer, he tried to remain unseen until directly upon the attacking vampire; but a wayward twig on the ground crunched beneath his weight and blew his cover. Gaining the vampire’s attention, Spike barely noticed when the sobbing victim used his presence as a chance to escape.

“ ‘s not very nice to pick on someone smaller than you, mate. Or are you too big of a coward to fight someone your own size?” Spike taunted the vampire as he mindlessly twirled his trusty stake around with his fingers.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say it was so much as picking as smart planning, Slayer. Figured hearing a damsel in distress would be the fastest way to get your attention.” The vampire snarled, his fangs bared and face rigid with his demon form.

“Is that right? Well, here I am and it seems that your little meal has scampered off. So, wha’ was so bloody important?” Slowly, Spike edged closer to the shaggy haired brunette vampire.

“Come on now, no need to be rude. I just thought all of us could have some good old fashioned fun. Whattya think?” A sarcastic smirk was plastered across his face as the vampire casually strolled towards Spike.

“All of us? Might want to have your eyesight checked because there’s only two of here, mate.” Now within striking distance to the bloodsucker, Spike rested slightly on his back foot and prepared for an attack. Seeing the vampire’s amber eyes cut to the left, towards the entrance to the graveyard, Spike followed his line of vision and tried to push away the fear creeping into his stomach when a cruel chuckled escaped past the creature’s elongated fangs.

“Oh goody, the guests have arrived. Time for the party to start, Slayer.” With a grand sweeping of his arm, the vampire motioned towards the approaching figures.

Spike’s stomach curdled with fright and dread as he realized that what he was seeing was Tara, practically being dragged across the damp grass of the graveyard by an oddly familiar red headed woman. “Willow…” Spike whispered, his voice clenching with terror as the realization of the situation he had placed his friend into finally settled in his mind. With a fierce growl, Spike aimed his stake at the petite red head and prepared for attack; only to be stopped by a sharp blow to the side of the head.

Stumbling slightly, Spike turned to his assailant, who calmly stated, “Wouldn’t try that if I were you. With her reflexes, your little girlfriend’s neck will be ripped to shreds before you can save her.”

“So, I guess tha’ means that I go after you then, right? And, it’s Xander, I presume.” Spike replied snarkily, trying not to let Tara’s frightful whimpers not distract him so much.

“I see my reputation precedes me. Or, better yet, my wayward grandchilde filled you in on all the gory details about me and Willow.” Xander smiled slowly and began to circle Spike, who was still in fight position and ready for an attack from either side. “I can smell her all over you, Slayer. Little double crossing bitch, always sniffing around Slayers. I figured it was just a hop and skip until she started fucking them instead of killing them. Course, I don’t really mind doing that for her.” With unnatural speed, Xander flung himself at Spike and punching him in the temple; causing them both to fall to the damp ground. Rolling around in between the gravestones, fists flew and fangs snapped as the Slayer and vampire wrestled for control. Blood seeped from wounds that gaped open from bashings against tombstones and well placed punches to the face.

Staggering to his feet, Spike lashed out and grabbed hold of Xander’s arm, tossing him against a nearby crypt. He leaned over to grab the vampire again, but was jerked backwards by Willow, who had left her victim long enough to assist her sire. Long, razor sharp talons gripped his arms and tore through his pale blue sleeves; Spike felt warm rivulets of blood begin to soak his bicep. Struggling against her hold, Spike was finally able to regain his footing and pushed the crazed vampiress off his back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her crawl back over to Tara; who was unconscious and laying on the ground. In the midst of Xander’s attack, Spike didn’t notice that his friend had been hurt.

“Tara!” Spike cried as he staggered towards her unmoving form; only to be stopped by a cold hand circling his neck. Held in place by Xander’s tight grip, Spike gasped for air as he was forced to watch as Willow pulled Tara into her lap and slowly licked along her jugular.

“One move and she’s a goner, Slayer.” Xander hissed against Spike’s ear as he turned him around to look into his eyes. With a flick of his wrist, the vampire tilted the slayer’s neck slightly to the side; his golden eyes twinkling with anticipation as his head descend.

Nearly unconscious from lack of oxygen, Spike eyes fluttered closed as he made a futile attempt to struggle against his impending death. As darkness began to creep into his line of vision, Spike vaguely had the sense of falling as an inhuman cry pierced the night. Forcing his eyes open, Spike stared up into a set of shimmering green eyes as a cloud of dust flittered to the ground between them.

Dazed, Spike remained on the ground trying to catch his breath as he gazed upward at Buffy. A brief moment of understanding passed through both warriors as one lone tear drop trickled down the blonde vampire’s face; making Spike realize how difficult dusting her grandsire must have been for her and that Buffy had done it anyway in order to save his life. “Buf…” Spike started, his words coming to a screeching halt when Buffy’s beautiful features morphed; her demon bursting forward with an inhuman growl.

“Spike!” She growled, moving into a fighter’s stance, “Get your friend and get out of here…NOW!”

Objection was on the tip of his tongue as he hastily scrambled to his feet when he spotted a very pissed off red headed vampire to his left. Golden eyes raged with fury and fangs glistened in the light of the nearly full moon resting high above the graveyard; her snarls of anger sent chills down Spike’s spine. Realizing that Willow was focused solely on Buffy, Spike slowly backed away in the direction of Tara; trying not to bring any attention to his actions. Before leaning over to pickup his semi-conscious friend, Spike cautiously glanced at Buffy; silently offering her his help.

“Go!” Was her only response besides a slight shake of the head, her eyes never strayed; staying locked with Willow’s. Grabbing Tara around the waist, Spike tossed her over his shoulder and quickly walked towards the wrought iron gated entrance; turning back to check on Buffy before leaving all together; just in time to see the enraged red head leap towards her wayward childe with an ear piercing scream of anger. Ready for attack, Buffy sprang forward to latch onto her sire midair; before tumbling to the ground in a flurry of claws and screams of rage. Spike paused for a moment, considering going back to help Buffy, but changed his mind when Tara began to stir in his arms; moaning lightly in pain. Swiftly, Spike headed out of the cemetery and walked down the street before stopping at a bench to put Tara down on.

“Tara? Are you awake, ducks?” Spike asked, brushing her flaxen hair out of her eyes. “Come on…talk to me.” He stared down at her and started smiling when her eyes started to flutter open. “How are you feeling?”

“Ugh…what happened, Spike?” Tara asked, wincing in pain as she rubbed at her neck; surprised to find a small wound. Pulling her hand away, she stared at the blood smeared across the palm. “Spike?”

“I think you may need to go to the hospital, pet. Just to be on the safe side, yeah?” Letting her lean against him for support, Spike led Tara down the empty streets towards the hospital. Mentally, for once he was grateful that everyone in the small town knew what slinked around in the dark of the night; which meant that the hospital employees would be less likely to question the tiny puncture marks on Tara’s slender neck.

About an hour and a half later, Spike was sitting next to Tara, who was propped up in a garishly lit hospital room after being pumped full of fresh O negative blood. While still a sickly pale color, Tara seemed to have brightened up a bit in mood and was adamantly questioning Spike about his involvement with vampires.

“So, you ‘re the Slayer, huh?” She asked her voice full of awe. “That’s so cool. I’ve read about the legend of one man put on Earth to fight the ‘forces of evil’, but I never would have thought that I knew him personally.” Distractedly, Tara picked at the tray of vitamin rich food that a nurse had brought in a few minutes earlier.

“The one and only, I’m afraid.” Spike replied wryly, snatching a grape off her plate. “Not as glamorous as it’s made out to be though. Lots of unexplainable wounds an’ trips to the graveyard don’ exactly make for a good time, yeah?”

“So, um…what was that whole thing earlier about? Why those vamps after you in particular and don’t say it was because you are the Slayer, because even I could tell it was more personal and I was halfway passed out at the time.”

“Xander, tha’s the now dusty vamp that attacked me, the red head is Willow. From what I can tell they are rightly brassed off at me because of something their lil’ protégé has done; who you probably don’t remember, but showed up in time to save both of our arses.”

“You’re not telling me the whole story and I know that because I can see it in your shifty eyes, William. What are you leaving out? And, why would another vampire kill their sire in order to save a Slayer? Aren’t you guys like mortal enemies?”

“Have I ever told you how much I like your intuitiveness?” Spike snarkily replied before kicking back in the world’s most uncomfortable chair. “Ok, the bird’s name is Buffy and yeah, we use to have the whole fight to the death thing going on until a couple of days ago. Tha’s when my entire world went wonky.”

“Wonky? Where did you come up with that word?” Tara interjected with a light chuckle, which immediately caused her to wince in pain at the cracked rib she was suffering from.

“Must’ve picked it up from Buffy, she’s always saying ridiculous things like that.” Spike paused and allowed a smile to creep onto his slightly bruised face. “I wonder how’s she’s doing anyway. Left her alone to fend for herself with Willow; they were fighting to the death when I was carrying you out of the graveyard.”

“Why’d you leave her if she means so much to you?”

“I never said how I feel about her, Tara, and I had to get you to safety. Buggered everything up by walking you home anyway; shoulda just went along my merry way and let you get yourself home. Would’ve ran into them on my own and you wouldn’t be in the hospital.”

“Spike, I know you well enough to know that you wouldn’t be worried about her if you didn’t feel something for her; whatever it may be. Personally, I think it’s kinda romantic; like star crossed lovers from a Shakespeare play. And, you were doing what you thought was right when you offered to walk me home. You had no idea what was going to happen, so stop blaming yourself. I’ll be fine and dandy in no time, you’ll see.” Tara paused long enough to yawn loudly. “I think I’m going to go to sleep now and you should probably do the same, you look beat.”

“Yeah, didn’t get much sleep last night anyway. You get some rest, luv, and I’ll stop by tomorrow and check on you.” Spike walked over to Tara’s bedside and placed a kiss to her temple before starting for the door.

“Oh…and Spike, whatever you decide to do about Buffy I’ll be cool with it. She saved my life, too!” Tara called out to Spike’s retreating form before he disappeared out the door.


It was nearing two in the morning when Spike finally strolled up his driveway; shoulders slumped with exhaustion. Dragging his feet up the porch, he stifled a scream when he saw someone sitting in the darkened corner on the porch swing.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Buffy said as she walked over to him. Hesitantly, she tenderly brushed her fingers across the rapidly healing gash on Spike’s cheek. “How’s your friend?”

“The doctor said Tara will be fine. He made her stay overnight and get a transfusion since she lost a good deal of blood.” Silence washed over them, both uncertain about what to say to one another. “I wasn’t sure I would see you again, luv.”

“Honestly, me either.” Buffy whispered as she leaned into Spike’s awaiting embrace. “Could we go inside, I don’t really feel too safe out here. Or would your Dad mind me being here?”

“He’s out of the country, pet.” Releasing his hold on Buffy, Spike turned toward the door and unlocked it. Once it was firmly closed behind them and he turned on the foyer light, Spike was able to see the damage that the enraged vampire had inflicted on Buffy. “What did she do to you?” He asked, cringing at the amount of blood covering her head and shoulders. Buffy appeared to have a nasty head wound and numerous scratches along her bare arms, one strap of her shirt was torn completely off and an eye was swollen almost shut. Leading her to the downstairs bathroom, Spike instructed Buffy to sit on the toilet while he rooted around in the closet for the first aid kit.

“She looks about the same, Slayer. Last thing I remember was being tossed head first into a tombstone; which is where this throbbing goiter came from I guess.” Buffy reached up and touched the gaping head wound with a wince of pain. “When I came to, Willow was gone.”
“Let’s get you cleaned up and then you can fill me in on exactly what this whole mess was about, all right, kitten?” Spike asked, kneeling down between her thighs and dabbing lightly at the gash with a wet washcloth in attempts to clean off some of the blood. He brushed a kiss across her lips before continuing tending to her wounds. When he was finally done, Spike scooped Buffy into his arms and carried her to his bedroom, where he placed her on the edge.

“All right, out with it…the whole story.”

“Willow is just pissed off because she thinks that I left her for you, ok?” Buffy blurted out, avoiding his intense gaze. Nervously, she fidgeted with the tattered strap of her blouse while waiting for a response from Spike.

“And why does she think that, pet?” He asked before turning around and grabbing a black T-shirt from his dresser and handing it to Buffy. “I figured you might want to change out of that shirt since it seems to be a lost cause.”

“Thanks.” Buffy untied the remaining straps and slipped it off, baring her breasts to Spike; which allowed him to see the vicious bite that Willow had left when she tore the tiny top partially from Buffy’s body. “It doesn’t hurt…much.” She explained before pulling the shirt over her head and inhaling the familiar scent of Spike that enveloped her. Patting the bed beside her, Buffy motioned for Spike to sit next to her; continuing their conversation when he was settled. “You see, Willow is or was more than a sire to me. Um, we were lovers for what…like a hundred and twenty some odd years? I didn’t want to tell you that because you might think its squiky or something for girls to be involved like that.”

“Actually, kitten…most red blooded males would find it hot, I guess. Especially when it involves hot chicks.” Spike kidded and dodged a half hearted punch from Buffy. “Well, I can certainly see why she’s brassed off at the two of us. Guess they could smell me all over you from the get go, which we should have been prepared for. Not that I regret anything that we’ve done, kitten.” Leaning over, Spike kissed her lightly on the lips and pulled her into his arms; mindful of both of their injuries.

“Mmm…” Buffy moaned in pleasure as their embrace deepened; wriggling into his lap, she wrapped her legs around his sides and slowly pushed Spike down onto the bed. His hands caressed her back and slid down to rest on her ass, pulling her down onto his erection. Moisture flooded Buffy’s black lace panties as she ground her core against his groin. Pushing back from his lips, Buffy’s hands furiously tore at his already partially shredded shirt. Figuring the offending garment was already doomed for the waste basket; Buffy ripped the light blue material into pieces and tossed it to the floor. “Much better.” She purred, nipping at his chest with her blunt teeth. “Mmm, I love the way you smell…all man like and grr.”

“Don’ rightly know what ‘grr’ means, but if it gets this reaction then I will bloody well aim to stay that way; at least around you.” Spike was panting with desire, his cock throbbing painfully in his black denim jeans. It never ceased to amaze him how horny he became after a night of patrol, especially when he didn’t get a decent kill. Catching Buffy off guard while she was slowly torturing him by licking and nipping at his chest and stomach, Spike flipped them over and straddled her. “You are wearing far too many clothes.”

Quickly stripping her petite frame free of clothing, Spike shed his boots and jeans and crawled back up Buffy’s body; resembling a panther stalking its prey. Her body quivered with want, aching with desire as she watched him settle between her shaking thighs. Reaching a hand between their bodies, Buffy wrapped her hand around his cock that was jutting out proudly and stroked it until he was writhing against her hand.

“God, Buffy…need inside…want you so much.” Spike whimpered in her ear; suckling the delicate flesh into his hot mouth. His hands fisted in her hair as he thrust forward into her tightly wrapped hand. Pulling away from her ear, Spike devoured her lips hungrily; their tongues dueling for control until they were both gasping for air.

Spreading her legs wide, Buffy guided his marbled shaft to her heated center until it was poised at her dripping delicate lips. “Need you, too.” She murmured against his cheek before thrusting her hips upwards until his cock slipping into her pussy; they both cried out in ecstasy as Spike slowly rocked his hips and grinded against the sensitive nub of her clit. Lightly biting along his neck, Buffy made her way to his ear where she nibbled the lobe before whispering, “I’m only alive when you’re inside me.”

Fueled with desire, Spike pounded into her furiously; their heated cries of passion filling the room. Feeling Buffy’s walls flutter around his cock, Spike momentarily slowed down and looked into Buffy’s luminous eyes before leaning his head to the side to expose his neck. Sensing her apprehension at his offering, Spike thrust back into her quivering core and hoarsely whispered, “I want you to.”

Letting her demon slide forth, Buffy shyly turned her head so that Spike wouldn’t see; ashamed of what she was. Tears pricked her eyes when he reached out to softly trace the delicate ridges along her brow. “You’re beautiful, luv.”

Turning her head slightly, Buffy kissed the inside of his palm before nibbling at the soft skin of his neck. Biting and teasing the tender area ever so faintly while his cock slid in and out of her pussy, becoming more forceful as their orgasms approached. Sliding her fangs slowly into his neck, Buffy shook with release as his rich blood poured into her mouth; stifling her screams until she pulled away and came for a second time when Spike’s orgasm ripped through his body.

A short while later, Buffy pulled a blanket over their naked bodies and curled against Spike, who had already slipped into a deep slumber and was snoring lightly with one arm tossed above his disheveled blonde locks. Studying his face intently, Buffy leaned over and kisses his slightly parted lips and whispering, “I think I’m falling in love with you.” Laying her head on his chest, Buffy closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

TBC...



**One line from Angel Season 3 “Waiting in the Wings”. It was done by the Master, Joss Whedon and his entourage of talented writers and not by little ole me. I just thought it captured the moment beautifully. Please don’t sue.**

Stretching languidly like a content feline, Spike awoke slowly; eyelids fluttering lightly as he tried to adjust to the light that was just beginning to flow into the room from outside. Realizing that the incoming sunlight would not make for a pleasant morning for the slumbering vampire curled next to his side, Spike eased out of the bed to close the heavy midnight blue curtains.

“Mmm…whatcha doin’?” Buffy muttered, eyes heavy lidded with sleep. Smiling slightly, she openly ogled the slender yet muscular build of the naked Slayer at the foot of the bed. “Not that I mind that you’re all with the nakedness for me to enjoy.”

“Sunlight was creeping in, pet.” Spike explained, walking back to the bed with a smirk on his face. “Didn’t want you leaving so soon.” Reaching out a hand to Buffy, he continued, “How ‘bout a shower, luv?”

“You, all naked and wet? I don’t know…you might have to twist my arm, Slayer.” Sliding her hand inside Spike’s, Buffy allowed him to pull her up from the bed and into his arms. Tilting her head back, she captured Spike’s awaiting lips and devoured them hungrily; pressing her nude body against his and moaning deeply when his hot skin came in contact with hers. Breaking apart momentarily, Buffy nibbled along his earlobe and whispered, “Maybe the shower could wait a bit?”

“Why wait, pet.” He growled as he picked her legs up and wrapped them around his narrow hips. With his hands firmly placed underneath her ass, Spike pulled Buffy tightly against him; his hardened cock nestled between her thighs and headed in the direction of the bathroom; peeking in first to make sure that the curtains were closed.

Thankful that she was so light, Spike was able to turn on the shower without having to put Buffy down. As they waited for the water to heat, Spike placed Buffy’s back against the wall for leverage and began nibbling along her collarbone; experimentally biting down harder each time as her moans and pants became louder.

When the steam began filling the small bathroom, Spike pulled them away from the wall and carefully stepped into the shower and instantly pushed her against the cool tile and slid his cock inside her moist depth. Hips rocked together violently as Spike ploughed into Buffy, their cries of passion echoing off the walls.

His teeth were on her neck again, she couldn’t think, her mind was lost with desire as his blunt canines marked her flesh. “Mmm…Spike…” Buffy moaned, tightening her legs around his waist and pulling his cock deeper inside her pussy. “Fuck, love the way you feel inside me.”

Spike’s only reply was an animalistic grunt as he pumped into her wildly, grabbing at her slender hips hard enough to leave deep bruises; his fingernails leaving tiny half moon shapes in their wake. The sharp, but pleasurable pain of her fangs piercing his jugular sent him over the edge; his release was sudden, surprising, and thunderous as he emptied his seed into her womb.

Leaning into Buffy’s tiny form, her legs tied around his waist, his softening cock imbedded inside her cunt, Spike rested his forehead against hers and tried to catch his breath; ignoring the intense pain on his back from the hot water pounding against the deep score marks that her nails had caused.

They remained like that until the water began to cool, silently holding on to one another. Finally, Buffy un-wrapped her legs from around Spike and slowly slid down his body until her feet touched the shower floor. Grabbing the soap, she worked up a thick lather before gently massaging it against Spike’s skin; gently washing the marks that both she and Willow had caused as she worked down the rest of his body. When she was finished, Spike grabbed a washcloth and returned the favor; his caresses sending chills down her spine and causing her to giggle when he dipped the soft cloth into her belly button, sliding down between her legs to cleanse the delicate curls located there.

When the water no longer offered the comfort of heat, Buffy almost had to result to force to remove Spike from the shower. His skin was riddled with goose bumps and his teeth were beginning to chatter, yet he wanted to stay locked away in the bathroom where no one could interrupt them and Buffy was naked. “Out, mister!” Buffy ordered, thrusting a fluffy sage green towel in his direction. Finally, the sulking platinum blonde exited the shower and wrapped the bath towel around his waist; not bothering to dry off completely. Instead, he found drying Buffy’s body to be a more pleasing.

Once dry, they went back into the bedroom for clean clothes, crimson pajama bottoms for Spike and the matching shirt for Buffy; which swallowed her whole, stopping just above her knees and the long sleeves rolled up almost to her elbows. Spike personally thought that he had never seen anything or anyone that was cuter than she was now. Grabbing her by the hand, Spike led her downstairs to the kitchen; making sure to close any curtains along the way. Settling her on the barstool at the light colored wooden island in the center of the kitchen, Spike said, “Well, I’ve always wanted to cook for a girl in the morning, but guess you don’ really eat, yeah?”

“Hey! Just cuz I don’t really need it doesn’t mean I don’t want it.” Buffy exclaimed, laughing at Spike’s crestfallen look. “So, whattcha making?”

“You eat real food?” Spike asked, cocking his eyebrow quizzically. “I’ve only ‘eard of vamps dining on humans, not human cuisine.”

“Yeah, like those stupid Watchers want their Slayers to think of us as anything but big meanies who run around all ‘GRR’ and leaving dead bodies piled up along the alleyways. Don’t think that’d be too good for business, do you? We have feelings and hobbies and stuff that you don’t know about.”

“Huh. Ok, then. Bit strange is all to me, kitten.” Noticing Buffy’s change in demeanor, Spike wrapped his arms around her from the back and kissed her cheek. “We come from diff’rent worlds, takes a bit of adjustment, is all. For both of us. Now, how do you feel about pancakes?”

“Ooh, love pancakes. Can there be chocolate chips?”

“Anything you want, luv.” Spike replied, crossing the kitchen and gathering items from the cabinets for breakfast. He came to a halt and cringed at her excited, “Can there be a little blood drizzled on top cuz they’re uber yummy.”

Buffy’s sides hurt from laughing so hard. Spike’s expression from hearing her request for bloody pancakes was hysterical. “I’m kidding, Spike!” She squeaked out between giggles, “Syrup’s good.”


About a half hour later, both Slayer and Vampire were sufficiently full of chocolate chip pancakes, bacon and on Buffy’s request, several glasses of chocolate milk. Standing near the sink, Buffy had begun washing the dishes; figuring it was the least she could do for Spike being so nice to her lately. In all honesty, her heart ached as she wiped away the remains of pancake, knowing that this type of domesticity was something she could never truly have. Lost in thought, she jumped with surprise when Spike’s breath tickled her neck; his muscular arms sliding around her waist and pulling her close to his chest.

“’ve missed you.” He murmured against her ear as he reached below the hemline of her shirt; knowing full well that she wasn’t wearing any underwear.

“Missed me? Hello, been with you all day, Spike. How can you miss me?” Buffy wobbled in his arms when his finger brushed against her clit; weakening her knees. Letting the last plate slide back into the warm, soapy water, Buffy turned around in his grasp and stared up into his eyes.

“Missed touching you is all; feeling your soft skin, your lips…” Spike murmured, placing feather light kisses all over her face. His tongue curled over his teeth in a seductive smirk as her eyes fluttered, her mouth open and panting for unneeded air, her hips undulating against the palm of his hand as his finger pumped in and out of her moist center.

Picking her up, Spike turned them around and placed her on top of the island; opening the night shirt and leaning her back until she was bare before him. Dipping down, Spike circled her belly button with his tongue and traced a line upwards towards her breasts. His right hand cupped one perfect globe while his mouth suckled on the other, biting lightly at her rosy nipple.

Their attention focused solely on one another, neither Spike nor Buffy noticed that the backdoor in the kitchen had been opened or that there were three guests standing in the threshold; mouths agape with shock.

TBC...


**Oh and this wasn't proofread really good, sorry. Hope everything is all right!**

The shuffle of shoes against the floor caught Buffy’s attention, quickly making her aware of three rapid heartbeats behind her. Tilting her head backwards ever so slightly, Buffy spotted Spike’s friends wide eyed and slack jawed by the backdoor. Offering up the tiniest of smiles, Buffy tapped on Spike’s shoulder and murmured, “Um…Spike? We’ve got company.”

“Bloody fucking hell!” Spike cried in disgust as he wrapped his arms around Buffy and helped her off the kitchen island; pulling her against his body to shield her from his friends stares. “Ever ‘eard of knockin’ on a bloke’s door instead of jus’ barging in?”

“Sorry, man. We’ve never had to knock, didn’t think this time would be any different.” Angel apologized, his hand still firmly placed over Fred’s eyes; shielding her from what he knew was a heartbreaking discovery for the petite Texan. While Spike was obviously oblivious to her affections, Angel and Gunn had known about the crush from the beginning. Growing impatient, Fred’s fingernails were digging deeply into his forearm as she struggled to be free from his grasp. “Angel let go!” She demanded, using all of her strength to remove his massive hand from her eyes; finally free, the rail thin brunette could only stare unbelievingly at the couple before her.

“Um, we’ll just go man.” Gunn interjected, beginning to usher Angel and a shocked Fred out the door. “Call us later, ok?”

“No, wait. Jus’ go into the living room, yeah? Need to go over some things with you lot anyway. Buffy an’ I will be along in a moment.”

“Buffy?” Fred asked quietly, her voice quivering slightly and blinking furiously to hold back the tears that were beginning to prick in her eyes. While the blonde in Spike’s arms had seemed familiar, she had been unable to put a name to the face so to speak and figured her to be someone he had picked up the night before.

“Hold up! Buffy? As in that girl that kicked your scrawny white ass a couple of years ago? Man, that’s fucked up!” Gunn’s face clouded with a mixture of confusion and rage as he stepped closer to the blonde couple; Spike tucked Buffy behind him in a protective manner, instinct preparing him for a fight.

“Calm down, mate.” Spike urged Gunn, his heart clenching when he saw a single tear slip down Fred’s face as Angel wrapped his arms around her in a comforting embrace. “I’ll explain everything, yeah? Jus’ go into the living room and we’ll talk.” He watched silently as his friends shuffled into the other room, Gunn muttering under his breath the entire way. Turning around to Buffy, who hadn’t said a word during the whole ordeal, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close; needing to feel her touch. “Not exactly the way I ‘ad planned on them finding out about us, kitten, but I guess it’ll ‘ave to do. You ready for this?”

“Spike, maybe I should just make myself scarce for a while. Ya know…give you guys some alone time away the cause of the whole mess?” Nervous, Buffy fidgeted with the hem of her borrowed shirt and intentionally avoided Spike’s eyes.

“What?! No, Buffy…I wan’ you with me, pet. They’re bloody well going to ‘ave to accept you sooner or later, and I’d prefer that it wasn’t later.” Spike pulled her close and kissed the tip of her nose, “Love that nose, kitten.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Slayer.” Buffy replied saucily before titling her head to accept a kiss from Spike that quickly went from innocent to explicit in a matter of moments. Placing her hands on his chest and lightly pushing him away, she said, “As much as I would rather being doing that with you instead of what we have to do, your friends are waiting for us. So, ready to face the wolves?”

“Don’t figure they’d appreciate being called wolves, luv; but yeah, ‘bout as ready as I’ll ever be. But, we will most certainly be finishing this later.” Taking one of Buffy’s small hands in his, Spike lead the way to the living room to face what he figured would be one hell of a tough crowd. Warily, he skirted around the room and briefly scanned his male friends for any obvious signs of stakes before settling next to Buffy on the maroon couch. “Thanks for staying, guys…er, and girl.”

“Yeah, well, it sounded important; but then again, so did whatever you had going on last night, right? Just didn’t know that “big bad” business was Buffy.” Angel replied sarcastically, giving his best friend a serious case of the stinky eye.

“Oi! You can’t possibly think I blew you guys off so I could go shag!” Spike cried incredulously, his head swinging back and forth across his friends looking for a sign that they were joking. Not seeing any shaky smiles or mischievous twinkles in their eyes, Spike threw his hands up and said, “Oh well that’s just bloody fantastic, innit? Like I’ve ever given you lot a reason to doubt me?”

“Spike, you have to admit that finding you all warm and cozy with her makes it a difficult for us to believe you weren’t doing just that, dontcha think? We’re supposed to be your friends, the least you could’ve done was tell us the truth.” Fred interjected quietly from the corner of the room where she sat slumped in his father’s favorite recliner.

“It’s the truth, I promise!” Spike swore vehemently. “We ran into each other at the club last night and that’s when I found out that her two sires had it in big time for me. They’re here, in Sunnydale…or, at least one of them is, anyway.

When I left you guys, I ran into Tara downtown and insisted on walking her home to make sure she was safe and all. Long story short, I ran into her sires, Willow and Xander, in the graveyard…the one by the bookstore? We fought, the red headed chick attacked Tara…who is in the hospital, by the way…and I thought that I was a goner, too. Xander had me by the short hairs, you see…with the whole ‘Move and we kill your little friend’ routine. But she saved me…and Tara. Buffy dusted her grandsire for us without a second thought about what she was doing. After that…we’ll I guess you already know the rest of the story, yeah?”

“Yeah, no need to go into the disturbing details of your boinking session with the undead, Spike.” Fred ground passed tightly clenched teeth; her face was flushed red with not only anger, but disappointment as she got out of the chair and stared directly at Buffy. “You just couldn’t leave him alone, could you? He almost died last time! And now you bring a whole new problem to town?! You should have just stayed away from him!” Her body was shaking now, tears building in her doe like brown eyes. “Well, you know what, Spike? I’m not going to stand around and watch her hurt you again.” Unable to keep the sadness at bay any longer, Fred rushed from the room; her face streaking with hot tears.

“I’ll go after her. She doesn’t need to be out there wandering around alone; especially since it’s going to get dark soon.” Gunn headed for the front door, which remained wide open after Fred’s departure. “For what it’s worth, bro…I’m glad you guys are all right, but I hope this thing…” He said, gesturing to the blonde couple on the couch, “is worth it, cause I ain’t too sure Fred’s gonna be able to forgive you anytime soon.”

Lost in thought, Spike was pulled from his daze by the sound of the front door slamming shut. Turning back to his remaining friend, who was openly staring at Buffy with an unreadable expression on his face, Spike ran his hands through his hair and inquired nervously, “So, mate…what’s your opinion? Gonna tear me a new one like the rest of them?”

“Can you stop her?” Angel asked, staring at Buffy. “What’s her name? Willow? Can you stop her before she does something else?”

“Yes.” Buffy replied honestly; staring eye to eye with Angel, she continued, “I don’t care what happens to me, I won’t let her hurt Spike or anyone he cares about.”

“Then I don’t guess I have a problem with you two being together. Just…you know…no biting in front of me, ok?” Angel grimaced at the thought of watching the blonde vampire having a meal with his best friend’s neck. He wasn’t totally oblivious; he had spotted the tiny puncture wounds on Spike’s neck when in the kitchen. While almost completely healed, thanks to Slayer healing, the bright fluorescent lighting made them stand out. “Look, I’m gonna go check on Fred. She’s taking this relationship a lot harder than when you dated Drusilla.”

“And why, exactly is she that upset, Angel?” Spike asked with a blank look on his face, but scowled when Buffy started snickering beside him. “What?”

“She’s crushing on you big time, dork!” Buffy managed to get out between giggles. “You mean you actually didn’t know? Are you totally blind?”

“Fred? A crush on me?” Spike looked questioningly at Angel who had joined in the laugh fest with Buffy. “Since when?”
“Man you really are clueless. Are you sure that blonde hair is fake?” Angel quickly exited the living room and moved to the safety of the foyer when confronted by a perturbed blonde vampire who was currently staring him down with a cocked eyebrow. “Look, I’ll call you later; Spike, and let you know how Fred is doing. Give her some time to cool down before you go see her.” Not bothering to wait for a reply, Angel exited the house and headed towards Fred’s apartment.

Inside the house, Spike and Buffy sat in silence; unsure of what to say to one another. Finally, Buffy broke the ice, “I’m gonna go, ok? I’m in major need of actual clothes at this point.” Scooting off the couch, Buffy tried walking around him to go to the bedroom, but was snatched back when Spike grabbed one of her legs.

“Not leaving, kitten.” He muttered against her belly as he held her tightly around the waist. “Jus’ got you…not ready for you to go. We’ll both go, but you’re coming back here. In fact,” Spike pulled away from her stomach, glaring up at Buffy with a fierce look in his eyes, “you’re moving in ‘ere with me, yeah? It’s too bloody dangerous for you to be in that place all alone.”

“You can’t be serious?! What about your dad? And, hello…vampire, here…I can take care of myself, Spike.” Buffy reached out and brushed a wayward tendril off his forehead and had a fleeting thought that he was adorable without his hair slicked down with gel.

“My Da’s gone for another couple of weeks visiting friends in London, kitten. And, I am well aware that you are a vampire; jus’ being near you sends my Slayer senses into hyper drive. I want you ‘ere with me, yeah? Always.”

“Well, how can a girl say No to that? Guess I’m moving in, Slayer.”



TBC...

“She’s not here.” Buffy told Spike as they entered the mansion. Flipping on a nearby light, she turned to him and said, “Was here at some point and time, but not now.”

“Can’t say that I’m happy she’s not here, pet; ‘least if she was...we could go ahead and get this lil’ vendetta of hers over with once and for all, yeah?” Closing the door behind him, Spike pulled her into his arms and placed a kiss to the crown of her head. “I’d rather be focusing this time on us, instead of wondering what your wack job sire is planning on doin’.”

“Mmm....have to agree with you on that, Mister. ‘Course, we are in a big ol’ empty house, whatever will we do?” She replied coyly, tilting her head upwards and licking her lips suggestively. “Got any ideas, Slayer?” Unwrapping herself from his arms, Buffy slowly undid each button; nipping and kissing along his chest as skin was exposed. Once unbuttoned, she pushed the charcoal dress shirt off his shoulders, letting it pool on the ground behind them, and leaned over to lick one nipple; catching the tiny bud in between her teeth before continuing on to the other.

“Naughty minx. ‘S not nice to tease a bloke, ya know?” Spike growled. Fisting his hands in Buffy’s hair, he pulled her up and kissed her hungrily; moaning his desire into her mouth. Releasing his hold, he slid his hands down her back and grasped them around her ass, pulling her body tightly against his and grinding his erection into her core. Lowering his hold, Spike lifted Buffy’s thighs until she wrapped them around his waist; locking her ankles and using the leverage to massage her throbbing center against his groin.

Clumsily, Spike maneuvered his way down the darkened hallway in the direction of the bedroom once declared to be Buffy’s; not bothering to turn on any lights once they entered. After laying her down onto the bed, Spike crawled up her body; pushing the shirt she borrowed from him upwards along the way, exposing her pale skin to his gaze. Licking slowly, he made his way from the indentation of her belly button all the way to the soft skin in the valley between her breasts. Tugging the shirt over her head, Spike tossed the offending garment to the floor all the while keeping his attention focused solely on the twin peaks of her breasts; nipples turgid with desire.

The moist heat of Spike’s mouth on her cool skin was enough to drive her wild with desire; her body writhed beneath his touch as his tongue slowly outlining each and every contoured of her torso. The soft skin of his lips wrapped around one breast and Buffy groaned loudly; reaching down, she pawed furiously at what was left of his clothing; tearing at the buttons on his jeans and trying to shove them down his legs.

“Kitten’s a bit impatient, yeah?” Spike murmured, peeking up at Buffy with a devilish glint in his stormy blue eyes. Pushing away from Buffy, Spike grabbed her hands and raised them above her head; remembering what was stowed away in the end table from their last encounter, he held her arms down with one hand and retrieved the shiny handcuffs. “Maybe these will teach you some restraint.” Snapping the cuffs around her wrists, Spike smiled at his handiwork before moving back down her body; where he slid off her boots and leather pants, leaving her clad in only a scant piece of black lace. “You remember the rules, luv? No talking unless I say so, right?”
Buffy nodded obediently and lifted off the bed so that Spike could remove the last scrap of clothing from her body. Bare to his gaze, moisture flooded from her core when he curled his tongue over his teeth in a wickedly seductive way that always seemed to get her wet. Even though they had already had sex several times that morning, her body was already aching for his touch, to feel his cock buried within her depth, his teeth in her neck as they thrust together wildly. Writhing madly, Buffy raised her hips in a silent plea for Spike to stop teasing and give her what she wanted.

“Tsk…tsk…tsk...what did I say ‘bout being impatient, luv? Seems you haven’t learned your lesson yet. For shame.” Spike taunted, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. He lifted one leg, bringing her tiny foot to his mouth and slid one blood red painted toe into his mouth; sucking lightly and swirling his tongue sensuously around the tip before relinquishing it to further continue his exploration of her delicate foot.

By the time he made his way to her knee, nipping at the soft are at the back, Buffy was no longer wriggling in his hands, bit was rigid with need. He chuckled lightly at her state and continued upwards to his goal; licking along her moistened slit at a treacherously slow speed, bringing a growl of frustration to her lips, before plunging his tongue into her pussy. Pulling his mouth away from her center, Spike replaced his tongue with two fingers, easing them into her deeply and slowly pulling them back out; taunting her with slowness, building her desire. Lowering his mouth again, he flicked his tongue against her swollen bud and drawing it into his mouth until a tiny cry of pleasure escaped from her mouth. “Can’t seem to keep quite can you, kitten? Maybe you don’t really want this, yeah?”

Shaking her head vigorously from side to side, Buffy mouthed an apology and thrust herself down onto his digits; begging for him to continue. She was dizzy with longing; eyes closed and mouth agape as Spike’s ministrations drove her right over the brink of sanity. When her orgasm shattered through her, causing her body to shake with convulsions and making her nearly rip Spike’s head right off his shoulders when she clamped her thighs together, Buffy was forced to bite down on her lower lip to stifle the scream that threatened to spill. Looking down at Spike with a lazy grin plastered on her face, Buffy felt a trail of blood drizzle from her lips and slither down her chin and was shocked when Spike licked it from her skin; a fresh wave of moisture spilled from her core.

In one quick motion, Spike buried his cock inside Buffy; never pausing to savor the feel of her walls around him, plunging into her depths with need and want. His lips crashed against hers, teeth gnashing together to spill more blood into their mouths to mix with her essence still present on his lips; the tastes mingling together to make one tantalizing combination. “Fuck, pet…always feel so good, so tight…” Spike panted, his thrusts coming faster and faster now. Her moans were driving him crazy and he had a fleeting thought of amazement that she was trying not to speak; and the thought added fuel to his desire, his vampire succumbing to his demands in the bedroom was highly arousing.

Buffy’s legs tightened around his waist and she tossed her head back when another orgasm ripped through her body; her inner walls choking his cock with their strength. With an animalistic cry, Spike thrust into he one last time, spurting his seed into her useless womb. Shaking, Spike was silent for a few moments as he regained his composure enough to form a coherent sentence. “Such a good lil’ vamp, aren’t you? Doin’ what the Big Bad Slayer tell you to do.” He mussed, nipping lightly at her neck and chuckling so that Buffy was aware that he was kidding around. As much as he loved provoking the blonde temptress, having an angry vampire so close to his neck was something Spike didn’t like dealing with.

Growling, Buffy snapped at his exposed neck and erupted into a fit of giggles at his shocked expression. “Watch it, Slayer, or next time I might actually bite your pasty white neck. Course, you seemed to like that last time.” She chided, licking along his jugular and biting down softly. When she felt his cock, still buried inside her, start to harden with desire, Buffy laughed and exclaimed, “Gotta love that Slayer stamina!”

Nearly two hours later, they lay intertwined and tangled in the sheets; completely listless. Finally, Buffy grudgingly removed herself from his embrace and said, “Guess we need to get my stuff together and head back to your place. You need to patrol, right?”

“Yeah, not that I’m gonna have much energy after what we just did.” Spike remarked snarkily. “You can bend at some amazing angles, kitten. Gotta admit, big turn-on in my book.” Reaching out, Spike grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back into the bed with him. “The nasties could hold off a bit longer, yeah?”

“Behave!” She gasped as his fingers slipped between her thighs and rubbed against her swollen clit. Swatting him away, she exclaimed, “Now, Mister! We really need to get out of here just in case Willow returns. Heck, after the sex-capades we just performed in, we’d both get our butts handed to us in this state! Now, go!”


After stuffing her belongings into suitcases, they loaded them into Spike’s car and headed back towards his house; making one quick stop at the butcher’s for blood. Deciding her clothes could wait; Buffy grabbed her “brown bag dinner” and walked hand in hand with Spike to the front door. When they got to the porch, Spike pressed her back against the front door and kissed her hungrily as he fumbled with the door lock. With a startled gasp, Buffy fell backwards into the foyer when the door flew open; juggling her meal in both hands and giggling like a schoolgirl at Spike; who was clumsily trying to catch her with a shocked expression on his face. Once they had regained their footing, Spike pulled her against his chest and kissed her forehead; whispering, “Sorry, pet.”

“Good Evening, Spike. Glad to see all’s well with you…been calling practically all afternoon.” Someone commented dryly from the living room.

Glancing towards the voice, Spike said, “’Ello, Wesley.”

TBC...



**A/N** Didn't get a chance to really proofread this before leaving work. Figured a few typos would be all right as long as I finally posted something new. Was I right?

“Thought you were at some stuffed shirt tweed convention, Wes, why’d ya come back so soon, mate?” Spike inquired, tossing his car keys onto the table in the foyer and turning to take the brown grocery bag from Buffy’s hands. “Here, pet…lemme take that for you.”

“No, um…that’s ok. I’m gonna go put it in the fridge.” Heading in the direction of the kitchen, she called over her shoulder, “Be right back! Don’t start without me!” Hurrying to the kitchen, she quickly set about placing the six containers of pig’s blood into the refrigerator; all the while keeping one ear tuned into the conversation in the living room.

“It was a Watcher’s Retreat, Spike, and to be invited is a compliment. Therefore, having to leave because I was informed that you were in some type of trouble was quite a disappointment.” Wesley replied dryly. “In fact, it’s an even larger disappointment since you seem to not be in any trouble at all. On the other hand, who was that young lady and where might Drusilla be tonight?”

“Drusilla and I broke up, happened a couple a days ago. As for that younglady? Well, I imagine she’s the reason that the Council sent word for you to return home.” Shuffling nervously, Spike paused for a moment in order to give Buffy sufficient time to return to them; which didn’t take too long since she was apparently already on her way back. Once she was standing next to him, Spike wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her next to him in a protective manner. “Wes, this is Buffy. I…uh…don’t know if you remember…”

The stunned blonde couple barely had time to react to the Watcher’s sudden display of bravery, instantly retrieving a wooden cross from deep within the lapels of his brown tweed sport coat and lunging wildly at his perceived threat. “Stay back, Creature of the Night!” Wesley’s whole body shook with nervousness; never in all his years as a Watcher, which in all honesty weren’t very many, had he encountered a vampire with a history as violent and gruesome as this one’s. Of course, if he were really honest with himself, he had never had to be in the position to dust one, either. The killing of the creatures was solely meant for the Slayer, while his job was to educate and oversee from a distance.

What shocked him the most, not to mention damaged his manhood, was that the vampire didn’t seem to be worried that he was about to kill her. No, in fact, the tiny blonde stood beside his Slayer with confidence and they both seemed to be quite amused with his display. Dropping his weapon to his side, Wesley stared back and forth between the couple with a confused expression before inquiring, “Has everyone here just gone round the bend? Vampire. Right there, Spike. May I ask why you aren’t doing your sacred duty and staking her?”

“Right, about that…there might be some things that you missed over the past few days, Wes. Maybe you should sit down, first.” Spike pointed at the wing backed chair that Fred had occupied earlier in the day. Once Wesley had settled himself into the chair, glaring at them inquisitively, Spike followed Buffy over to the couch and sat down next to her; praying that this conversation went a whole hell of a lot better than the one with his friends.

“Well, let’s have it then.” Wesley urged his Slayer when it was apparent that the young man was obviously at a loss of words; which both confused and downright frightened him since Spike was known for not being able to keep his mouth shut. “Spike?”

“Buffy and I are…well, together, for a lack of a better term. Hadn’t quite had time to process the whole thing, honestly.” He paused his speech long enough to turn to Buffy and take her hand in his. “I know it’s not what you want to hear, mate, but I think she’s the one ‘m suppose to be with.” Seconds ticked by, the room was filled with a enough tension that a plastic knife could slice right through it. “Well, come one then…say something, Wes. I know you bloody well want to.”

“I honestly don’t know what to say, William. This is…well, it’s unheard of…a Slayer and a vampire…dating!” In a huff, Wesley pushed himself off the couch and started pacing the narrow living room. A few agonizing minutes passed before he spoke again, “It’s just all too much to deal with at the moment. First, the news about an unexpected uprising at the Hellmouth and now, finding out that you have decided to carry on with the enemy; well, it’s just too much.”

“Well…’m sorry you feel that way, but I….um, I care for her, Wes. Not to mention, if it weren’t for her, Tara and I wouldn’t be here anymore. She bloody well saved the both of us! Buffy dusted one of her sires just to save two lowly humans from being tortured to death in a graveyard because I wasn’t man enough to do it!” Spike felt his blood begin to boil, hated having to go through this conversation again, especially after the disastrous consequences from earlier. Guilt plagued his conscience as an image of Fred, crying and red with anger filled his mind.

Buffy was at a loss for words; hated knowing that Spike was hurting and not knowing what to do about it. Tightening her hand around his, she said, “Spike, don’t blame yourself for what happened with Tara. Xander is…was a sadistic bastard and they tricked you, used your love for Tara as a weapon in order to control your actions. I honestly believe that even if I hadn’t come along, you would have figured out a way to save her.”

“Oh dear! Is Tara all right?” Wesley interjected, worry marring his handsome features. “She’s not…I mean, she’s alive, right?”

“Course she’s all right, Wes. No thanks to me. Acted like a sodding nancy boy, I did. Just stood there and let that crazy bitch hurt one of my best mates.”

“And, Buffy saved you both. Actually dusted her grandsire for two humans? I honestly don’t believe it!” Wesley cried incredulously, continuing with his nervous pacing. “Might I ask why, Buffy?”

“Huh?” Buffy asked, pulling her attention away from Spike’s pain and focusing on the Watcher who was staring a hole through her head. “I…I had to, I guess. Didn’t really think twice about it, just ‘Poof’…no more Xander.”

“It’s unheard of! It has to be!” Wesley repeated, sitting back down in the chair with a dazed look on his face. After a brief moment, he muttered, “I wonder if their presence in town is the reason for the concern.”

“Wha’s that, Wes?” Spike asked.

“Oh, right…back to the actual reason I came all the way home. The Council sent word that their Seer’s had an extremely ominous prediction about the Hellmouth. If their vision is correct, it is safe to say that we are on the verge of another apocalypse.” Wesley’s wondrous expression from before faded and he gazed at the two figures on the couch grimly, “Someone, or rather, something has been working very diligently in the attempts to resurrect an ancient demon that will bring about the end of humanity. Dimension walls will crumble and blend together, creating what could only be described as Hell, Spike.”

“Is that right?” Spike drawled, figuring that this attempt was no different from the last three apocalypses that had faced and defeated. “And what would the name of this demon be?”

“Anyanka.”


TBC...

“Anyanka?” Buffy whispered; her mind and body suddenly filled with dread. Nibbling on her lower lip as she did when she was nervous, she looked at a curious Spike and said, “That is so not of the good.”

“You’ve heard of this demon before, Buffy?” Wesley inquired, suddenly very interested in what the vampiress had to say. “Do tell.”

“I…I’ve heard…um, things over the years. Don’t know how true they are, through. Um…let’s see, Anyanka is this demonish type that totally terrorized everyone like a gazillion years ago. And, when I mean everyone…I mean everyone, demons, vampires and humans.”

“Demonish? Ok, so she’s a demon, what’s the sodding big deal about that?” Spike shrugged his shoulders and reached in his pants pocket for his cigarettes. “ ‘s not like I haven’t dealt with ‘em before, yeah?”

“I don’t mean like the normal run of the mill demons you see everyday. She’s like pure demon, one of the first known to exist…or at least be recorded. She can change her face like a vampire, put on a human guise to fit in, but no one really knows why. And, she was a real…I mean real big nasty. Her bloodlust trumps her legendary beauty and that’s what caused the ‘Powers That like to Mess with Everyone’s Lives’ to step in and lock her away all nice and tidy. Don’t really know the whole story there, but they somehow put her into some other hell dimension after she slaughtered thousands of innocents…er, as innocent as demons can be, right?” Buffy chewed on the tip of her fingernail for a second, lost in thought. “But, I heard that once in there, no one could leave. So, how’s she busting loose?”

“Right, well then…that’s the problem we’re facing. Seems that someone has found the proverbial loophole that always pops up in situations such as these; sadly, there’s no word on who the culprit is.” Wesley’s expression was grim as he leaned forward in his seat. “The small amount of information coming from the Council as of now is that the ceremony to raise Anyanka will occur in Sunnydale on the new moon; which gives us shortly under two weeks to figure out the who, where and how to stop it part of the mission.”

“Guess its research time then, Wes, time to rally together the gang.” Spike interjected, hoping off the couch and heading towards the desk across the room to use the phone. “Hopefully, Fred will be able to push aside her anger long enough to help divert the latest crisis; other than Wesley, tha’ bird’s the smartest one around and we need all the help we can get.”

“Erm, Spike…while research is the best angle we can pursue at the moment; tis’ a bit late in the evening to be calling people.” Wesley indicated towards the wall clock by the front door which showed that midnight had come and gone already by nearly two hours.

“Bloody hell I didn’t know it had gotten so late. Guess the best thing to do is call them in the morning, have them here about lunch time, yeah?” Spike ran his hands through his gelled locks in exasperation, knocking them free of their hold only slightly, but enough that tiny spikes of platinum stood on end. Sighing, he turned to Buffy, who was sitting silently on the couch and noticed her apprehensive expression, “Wha’s the matter, pet? Tha’ too early for you?”

“No, that’s fine.” She assured Spike, once again chewing at her lip. “It’s just…um, do you really want me there? Wouldn’t it go over better with Fred if I was…you know? Um…made myself scarce?”

“Probably, but I want you there, ok?” Spike assured her, quickly striding across the room and pulling her into his arms. “They’re gonna have to get use to you sooner or later, yeah? Plus, you’ve already proven to be useful, filled us in right nicely on this Anyanka bint. Coulda taken us hours to get that much info out of those dusty ol’ books of Wesley’s and my Da’s.”

“Very well then, Spike I’ll let myself out and leave calling everyone to you. See the both of you tomorrow afternoon, good ngiht.” Wesley stated, gathering his few belongings and heading out the door.

“Hmm…whatever will we do now tha’ we are all alone?” Spike whispered huskily, dipping his head to nibble along Buffy’s neck.

Her legs were already shaking with desire from his nips to her exposed flesh, making her head swim with lust. Knowing what needed to be done, Buffy placed her hands on his chest and pushed Spike away ever so slightly, but still enough to fill his eyes with insecurity and wonder. “I need to know, Spike...if it’s Willow or not.”

“Yeah? And how d’ya plan on doin’ that, luv? Got your magic ball stowed away in your suitcase?” Spike remarked as he went back to kissing along her throat; causing her to push him away again. “What?! ‘s not like you can bloody well just go ask the crazy chit, now can you? Even if you could, she wouldn’t just tell you what her plans were, yeah? Pretty sure you’ve made it on her enemy list right along with my name.”

“I know, but if I can get out there and do some digging on my own before word spreads that I’m on your side now, then maybe I can get some information. Even if it is something small.” Buffy reached up and placed her hand on his cheek; rubbing her thumb across the sharp angle of his cheekbone in a tender caress. “Please, just let me try.”

“Fine.” He grumbled, grudgingly accepting the soft kiss she brushed across his lips in gratitude. “But, make it quick. Sun’s almost up and I don’t fancy havin’ a pile of dust as a girlfriend.”

“Well, since you just said that I’m at girlfriend status, then I won’t have to remind you that I’m a big girl now and can take care of myself.” She smirked, giggling like a schoolgirl when he pulled her in for a bear hug; lifting her several inches off the floor so that they were face to face. After kissing for several minutes, she pulled away again and wriggled in his arms, “Course I’m covered in eau d’ Slayer, so I have to take a sprint through the shower first. Would you mind getting my suitcase for me so I can change?”

“Not a bit, luv.” Obligingly, Spike set her back down on her own two feet and headed towards the front door only after giving her a swat across her backside. “Did I ever mention that that whole vampire smelling thing is strange?”


Half an hour later, Buffy was strolling down the seemingly empty streets of Sunnydale; they were just dark and quiet enough to give the appearance of a peaceful town, but lurking in the shadows, she could feel the presence of evil. Speeding up, she walked at a brisk walk in the direction of Willie’s, a dive bar that was well known for its gossiping demon clientele. If she was lucky, her fallout with Willow and the now dusty Xander wouldn’t be widely known and she could find out some tasty tidbits of information.

Pushing her way through the dented door, Buffy was pleased when very few patrons paid any attention to her and that the one’s that did look seemed to want something a whole lot different than revenge. Sighing with relief, she sidled up to the dingy bar and ordered a shot of Tequila from the owner, Willy, a human who always reminded her of a scared rat.

“Haven’t seen you in these parts in a while.” Willy said, deciding to offer the well known Master Vampire the bottle of gold liquor instead of just one measly shot; figuring it was best to make nice with the temperamental blonde. “Where ya been?”

“Eh…here and there, no place special,” She offered, knocking back a small glass of the liquor, barely grimacing as it burned in her throat. Pouring another dose, Buffy looked him in the eyes and said, “Figured I’d come back here for the upcoming fireworks. Plus, wouldn’t mind knocking the Slayer around some beforehand.” Mentally, she crossed her fingers and hoped the weasel-looking human hadn’t had the foresight, or intelligence, to put up magical enhancements so that vampire’s couldn’t use thrall on other patrons.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s right. You were the one that nearly did him in! I nearly forgot. Hey, you’re a legend in here, only one that’s gotten close to killing Spike.” Willy’s eyes glazed over as Buffy’s thrall took his mind over and she smiled wickedly as he spilled the gossip he had gotten earlier. “Fireworks, you say? Don’t know about any pretty light show, but there’s word that you’re group is up to some heavy mojo.”

“Who told you that and what are they planning, Willy?” Buffy asked eagerly, nearly crushing her glass with excitement and frustration.

“Don’t know his name, just some new guy in town. Got something big planned to bring down the Slayer. Portals and magic, dunno what, guy didn’t know too much. Claims he heard it straight from the redhead’s mouth, said she sired him.”

She sat there, silent, as the information sank in. Willow was siring? She hadn’t been one to do that, only a handful over the years. Why now? “Shit.” Buffy mumbled, tipping her glass back and swallowing the last bit of alcohol. Letting the haze drop, Buffy pushed several waded up bills towards the slightly dazed bar owner and said, “Thanks, Willy.”

“No problem.” He stammered as he gathered up the crumbled bills. By the time his mind had cleared completely, the front door was slamming shut as Buffy headed for her new home.

TBC...


**Sorry this took so long to get out, but Muse has been working overtime on Forbidden Passion and you know how it is when you try to work on one thing, but your mind is elsewhere. I honestly didn't think this would be done in time, but out of the blue, my creative streak decided to work on this update. Really hope you guys like it. Know it's not a lot, but had to get some plot in sooner or later. (No matter how much I like writting naked Spike!) I've got this story pretty much mapped out and if all goes well, the ending should come up soon. Maybe around five chapters or so. Can't really say for sure, since we never know how are MUSE is going to work things out, right.

Well, I'll stop rambling. Hope everyone had a great weekend. I'm now getting off work and about to start mine! Yea! I'll be back on Wednesday, hopefully all will go well and I can work on this story on my off days!***

“Maybe it would be better if I played the role of Avoid-o Girl for the meeting and hide out up here,” Buffy announced, perched in the middle of the bed with an apprehensive look on her face. Spike was rummaging around in the closet for something to wear, running late since they had started the morning off with a rise and shine romp. When he turned around and gave her a questioning look, she elaborated. “I’m pretty sure that Fred won’t be overly pleased to see me and if she’s upset then…I’m thinking she might focus on me being there and not so much on the researchy stuff.”

“Already bloody well told you that she’s just going t’have to get over her bad mood, Buffy; might as well be sooner rather than later, yeah? Plus, I need you there just as much as Fred. After what you got out of Willie last night, you might just be our ace in the hole. Who knows Willow better than you?” Spike pulled yet another black T-shirt over his head before reaching out to pull her off the bed and into his arms. “Everythin’ll be all right, I promise. Fred is perfectly capable of putting aside her feelings and focusing on what’s important, kitten.”

“Fine,” Buffy relented, poking her bottom lip out as she pouted, “but when she stakes me in the heat of the moment…well, I guess I won’t be able to say I told you so in dust form, huh?”

“You are being downright ridiculous, luv. Fred’s the sweetest bird I know; wouldn’t hurt a fly. No need for the dramatics.” He lightly placed a kiss to the end of Buffy’s nose and smirked as fury slowly colored her eyes at being made fun of. “Settle down, pet…you know how cute I think you are when you get all riled up and we don’t have nearly enough time to take advantage of that before everyone arrives.”

“I’ll behave for now, but I fully intend on kicking your butt later.” Buffy murmured, her anger quickly dissolving, only to be replaced with a heavy dose of unadulterated lust. “And then some.” She added saucily as she rubbed his cock through the rough denim jeans and gazed up into the oceanic depths of his eyes with her own as they faded from green to gold.

An animalistic growl rumbled deep in his chest, surprising him in its ferocity as he literally slammed Buffy backwards against the wall. “Don’t think I can’t wait for later, pet…just gonna have to make this quick.” Spike hoarsely whispered against Buffy’s neck as he tore at the opening to his jeans, freeing his cock and thrusting deeply into her awaiting pussy; thankful she hadn’t gotten around to putting on anything after their shower and was still clad only in a towel.

Buffy moaned into his mouth with a gasp of surprise and wrapped her legs tightly around his narrow waist, using the leverage to pull him further inside. “Ungh…harder, Spike…harder.” She demanded in a breathless pant; digging frantically at his back with her razor like talons, desperately trying to fill the scant amount of space between them, needing him to somehow be closer. “Need you…more...” A fire began to burn deep in her womb, lapping at her center with an intensity that had Buffy matching Spike thrust for thrust so hard that the framed pictures on the wall beside them began to shake.
“Fuck, pet…feel so perfect, such a tight lil’ quim,” Spike choked out between pants; digging his fingers into the swell of Buffy’s hips as he ploughed into her so roughly that he was thankful she wasn’t a normal woman who would have been bruised by the ferocity of his desire.

Spasms of pleasure coursed through her body, Buffy trembled in his strong arms as the orgasm shattered inside. Screaming wildly, she felt her demon burst forth just before smashing against Spike’s lips for a mind searing kiss. Barely finished with the first release, a fang nicked Spike’s bottom lip sending a second that rippled through her core with a heat that she was sure would dust her on the spot as she bucked in his arms; sucking greedily on the coppery blood that flowed into her mouth.

Fueled by the force of her passion, Spike’s thrusts slammed deeply into her awaiting core, shaking the walls so tremendously that a picture from his graduation clattered to the floor and shattered the glass. Paying no attention to anything happening around them, his eyesight blurred and dotted with stars when his orgasm tore through his body with earth shattering strength; his scream echoing loudly in the small room.


Interlocked in the most intimate of ways, Spike’s cock was nestled deep within Buffy as they held onto one another, foreheads touching and their bodies shivered with the aftershocks of passion. Unsure how long they stayed in that position, they broke apart when the shrill ring of the doorbell broke the silence.

“And that concludes the entertainment portion of the afternoon,” Buffy muttered snarkily. Unfazed by her state of undress, she brushed a kiss across Spike’s bruised lips. “Sorry about the mid-romp snacking. Couldn’t help myself though, you’re pretty tasty.”

“Happy to oblige, kitten…anytime, quite the turn on actually,” Spike replied with a leer as he buttoned his black jeans and pulled on a matching shirt. “Guess you’ll be needing another shower then, yeah?”

“Um…not so much,” She replied playfully. “Think I’m going to torture myself today and keep the scent of our sex for a while. Go on downstairs, I’ll be right behind you…just gotta throw on some clothes.”

“I don’t know, kitten. The guys might fancy you strutting around in all your glory.” Spike retorted, ducking out of the room just in time to dodge a pillow that Buffy jokingly tossed in his direction in mock annoyance.

Downstairs, Spike opened the door to find all three of his friends waiting patiently; obviously they had learned their lesson about barging into his house on their last visit. “Afternoon, all! Come one in, still waiting for Wesley.” Ushering the guys into the living room, Spike cautiously approached Fred and asked, “Could we talk for a minute, ducks? Just the two of us?”

Nodding wordlessly, Fred shuffled past Spike and headed into the kitchen. Perching on the barstool, she fidgeted nervously and avoided contact with Spike’s expressive eyes. “Well….”

“Are we going to be all right, sweets?” Spike burst out, reaching across the bar to take her hands in his. “I can’t bear the thought of you being angry with me, not being around and what not.”


Tears welled in Fred’s luminous chocolate brown eyes, chin trembling, she laid her head down on top of the juncture that was their hands and let the sadness pour from her body. “Oh, Spike…I…I…don’t want to lose you…either.” She choked out in between gasps for air. Whipping her head up to look directly at him, she forced out, “Would you leave…her…for me?” Her shoulders slumped as her answer flickered in his eyes, his silence was deafening. “Guess that’s a no, huh? So, where does that leave us?”

“Fred, sweetie, you know I love you, yeah? But this thing with Buffy, I don’t rightly know how to explain it. It’s like when we’re together I feel…like I’ve come home. If that makes any sense at all,” Spike muttered, wincing as she pulled her hands from his. Leaning back against the kitchen sink, he craved a cigarette and mentally cursed his father for banning them in the house. “You deserve better than me, luv. Might not think so now, but you do. Someone who can commit to you a hundred percent, someone you can get married to and have fat lil’ grandchildren with, someone…someone who has a future.”

“Spike, don’t say things like that!” Fred admonished, pushing off the stool to come around and stand in front of him. “You deserve a normal life, too. A real girlfriend, not some demon who has tried to kill you on more than one occasion.”

“That’s just it, innit? Yeah, Buffy tried to kill me, just like I triedto do the same to her. In the end, we never succeeded and I think that’s because we didn’t want to. Like maybe we knew that we were meant for something else, yeah?”

“So, you love her? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

“I know I feel something for her that I’ve never felt for anyone else. Is it love? I can’t rightly say, but she’s…special to me.” Pausing, Spike locked gazes with his long time friend, eyes a steely blue with determination. “She’s not a just a demon to me. Can you handle that?”

“I guess I’ll have to, won’t I? You mean too much to me to let her come between us, plus, gotta stay close and make sure she doesn’t hurt you, right?” With a light smile, Fred fell against Spike when he offered his arms out for a hug; squeezing tightly.

“You’ve no idea how happy you just made me.” Spike muttered against her hair, inhaling the subtle scent that was innately Fred; soft floral sweet peas with fruity peach undertones. Breaking apart, Spike swept a light kiss across her forehead and said, “Guess we best get back in there; lot’s of research to start on.”

Heading back into the living room, Spike was surprised to find Buffy sitting on the couch in between Angel and Gunn, chatting amicably with a wide smile pasted across her face. Her eyes flickered to his and her smile changed slightly, still wide and bright, but now knowing as it combined with her gaze that was full of understanding. Offering up a smile of his own, Spike flopped down onto the floor next to Fred and looked up at Wesley, who had arrived just after he and Fred had disappeared into the kitchen. “Well, let’s get this show on the road, yeah?”

“Right, well then, Buffy already filled us in on what she found out last night after I left and I must say, the idea that Willow is apparently siring again is a bit worrisome.” Clearing his throat, Wesley dug through his worn brown satchel and pulled out an ancient leather bound book. “I did some reading earlier this morning on the situation at hand and from what I can put together it seems as though this Willow may be building herself an army. Seems that the last time anyone tried to release Anyanka from Gorshlak, one of the main hell dimensions used to imprison and punish, they were nearly drained completely of any power or strength and ended up being defeated by a rather small group of warlocks and witches. Luckily, that meant the apocalypse was averted, Anyanka kept from destroying Earth and the unlucky subject who attempted the…I guess, a resurrection, of sorts was terminated.

That incident occurred around 1100 A.D., unsure of the exact date thanks to hundred of years of translation, however, it seems that this Willow will need a willing human sacrifice to start the process. Sadly, I have been unable to translate the spell to close the portal once it has been open; which I figure we will need if we are unable to get through the masses of undead and make our way to Willow. Not to mention, we still need to figure out where this whole ordeal will be taking place.” Shoulders slumped; Wesley flopped down into the wingback chair and sighed. “Any ideas?”

“Obviously, more patrol is needed, definitely figure out a way to stalk that psycho sire of Buffy’s and see if she can lead us to the destination for destruction, but as far as the spells…haven’t a clue, Wes.” Spike offered, idly fiddling with a stake he had found lodged underneath the coffee table.

“Um…how about your dad, Spike? Or Fred? Wouldn’t they be our best bet for the hocus pocus aspect?” Buffy interjected, only to be met with a room full of blank stares. “What?”

“Why would they be our best bet, luv?” Spike mused, “Those two gonna throw books at the demons til they fall down?”

“Oh, well I thought they did all that stuff.” Once again met with questioning gazes, Buffy shrugged her shoulders and said, “I just thought with all that mojo rolling off the both of them that they practiced in magicks.”
“Spike, I believe it’s about time to call your father, for him to come home early.” Wesley stated; ideas and thoughts practically visible in his eyes as his brain churned. “If what Buffy says is true, then I think we’ve just had a turn of events, a stroke of luck.”

TBC

“Geez, nervous much?’ Buffy muttered from the couch, where she was curled up with one of the numerous ancient texts Wesley had carried over earlier in the week. “You know, your Dad might not appreciate replacing the carpet when he gets here. What, with all the vanquishing of the demon from his house and all.” When she felt Spike’s angry glare boring into her skull, she peeked up from the book and grinned at him. “Hello? Sense of humor, much? I was just trying to lighten the mood.”

“Sorry, luv…it’s just that I’m a bit more nervous than I had anticipated…thought that four days to get my side of the argument together would be enough, but it seems like I’ll never be ready for the confrontation with my Da.” With a defeated look on his face, Spike flopped down next to her on the couch and settled for channeling his nervous energy through flicking his lighter, instead of pacing.

“So, you’re pretty sure that he’s going to choose the angry, yelling course of action and not the ‘Hey, Buffy, welcome to the family’ kinda route?” Laying the book next to the couch, she sat up and scooted closer to Spike; nestling her head on his chest, his chin on the top of her head. “Guess it’s expected…our luck’s been too good so far, with the exception of Fred, but that worked out ok in the end, right?”

“Yeah, pet…Fred’s come ‘round, but not without causing us both a great deal of pain first. Not rightly sure that m’Da will handle the news as well.” Placing a kiss to the top of her head, Spike continued, “Of course, I’m hoping for the best, but expecting the worst when he arrives. Let’s just say that we’ve had our…disagreements over how to deal with...well, you. And, I am quite certain that he didn’t mean for the plan of action to include snogging or shagging, kitten…much less moving you into our home.”

“Spike, if my being here is going to continue to cause you trouble with your family and friends I can go back to the mansion. It’s not like I’m totally incapable to taking care of myself, you know?! I mean, I have been doing it for years now.” Pushing away from his chest, Buffy looked around the room uncertainly, before meeting his gaze. “Maybe I should just go?”

“No! You’re staying here and that’s that, pet. Already bloody told you that, quite arguing with me, yeah?” Leaning across the cushion that now separated them, Spike’s lips pressed against hers roughly as he pushed Buffy back against the arm rest. Their embrace quickly heated to a state of frenzied intensity, only to be interrupted by the sharp sound of the front door slamming shut.

“Well, William, I’m rather pleased to find that my holiday was cut short so that I could be privy to your snogging session.” Rupert Giles interjected from the foyer, his voice laden with sarcasm as his bags dropped unceremoniously to the wooden floor. “And this would be…?”

“Da!” Spike choked out as he scrambled off of Buffy, who was busy redoing the buttons on her shirt. “I…uh…thought you were gonna ring when you arrived at the airport.”

“Nonsense, I arranged to have transportation waiting. I was under the impression my return was rather important and I didn’t want to pull you away from the necessary research just to travel all the way to Los Angeles and pick me up. Of course, judging by the lack of pertinent labor you were performing, I was greatly mistaken.” Crossing the room, Rupert idly flipped through the mail. “I do believe I instilled manners in this household, William. Do you plan to put them to use and introduce your lady friend?”

“Oh, right…um, Da you two have already met actually. This is Buffy.” Visibly flinching from the expected response, Spike was both shocked and frightened by his father’s lack of response. “She’s…staying with…us.”

“Right. Very well then.” Rupert muttered, tossing the stack of envelopes back onto the desk; his hands wrapping around the chair back tightly, his knuckles whitening due to the force. “Miss Buffy, my son and I need to talk…privately. Do you mind?”

“O-kay, gotcha. I’ll be making myself scarce.” Buffy hastily replied, crawling off the couch and heading for the front door. “I’ll uh…make a sweep through the usual haunts; see if any baddies are out. I’ll meet you at the Bronze later, ok?” Waiting for Spike’s nod of approval, she disappeared out the front door; halfway down the street before the heavy wooden door closed.

“William, do you mind explaining to me as to why I came home to find you in a rather compromising position with a vampire? Do you have absolutely no respect for me or…anyone other than yourself, for that matter? After all she’s done!” Rupert’s normal composed decorum was quickly vanishing as his temper made itself known. “Well?!” He bellowed when his son’s response wasn’t as forthcoming as expected. “I will not have her living in my home, William!”

“Yes she bloody well will be living here, Da!” Spike yelled back, surprised at his response. Taking a deep breath, he calmed and started again. “Sorry for yelling, but Buffy’s staying."

"You can't possibly tell me that she doesn't have somewhere else to stay." His father asked, blatantly ignoring the tone of voice his son had taken with him. "Surely she has another option besides residing here.”

“She does, but I want her here…with me. Please, Da, you’re just going to have to trust me on this one. I need Buffy here with me. She’s important to what’s going on.” Spike insisted, crossing his arms across his chest.

“I imagine her importance has more to do with the fact that she’s the reason for this entire debacle and less to do with assisting you in the matter of stopping Willow.” Rupert replied dryly, cocking an eyebrow at his offspring in a challenging manner. Before Spike could open his mouth to protest, the elder Giles held up his hand to stop his objections. “I do not wish to discuss this any further, William. I will trust your instincts for the time being, Buffy can continue to stay here, but only until this matter is taken care of. Once Sunnydale is returned to safety, I expect her to find residence elsewhere; preferably far away from this town.”

“You’re wrong about Buffy, Da.” Spike replied, his voice hardened with anger. “She’s changed, but if you refuse to accept that and give her a chance…then I will respect your demands. After I avert yet another apocalypse, she’ll be out of your house…along with me.”

“Very well, son, if that’s the way you feel, then I won’t stop you. I do hate to lose you, but I cannot force your decision. However, I do find it to be completely unbecoming of a Slayer to be involved with a vampire.” Rupert advised, his tone matching his son’s; dripping with distaste as the word vampire rolled of his tongue. “As for now, there is a far more important matter to discuss. Have you been able to locate any more information regarding the upcoming incident?”

“Nothing other than what Buffy was able to get out of Willy the Snitch. Thankfully, she was able to find out that much; otherwise we’d still be wandering around in the dark.” Spike paused long enough to shoot a disapproving look at his father in response to his muttering about Buffy’s involvement. “Actually, there has been mention of using some form of magick to stop Willow. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” Spike asked, interested in hearing what his father’s response would be; his head cocked to the side as he noticed the slight pause Rupert gave before answering.

“Why on earth would you think I would know anything about magicks, son? As a Watcher, one is rarely trained on something so unstable as the dark arts.” Rupert replied, suddenly interested in the mail again.

“It’s come to my attention that a certain vibe is given off by individuals involved with magick and apparently you are surrounded by it. Wouldn’t know why that is since you aren’t skilled in the practice?” Spike challenged; pleased by his father’s sudden change in demeanor. No longer was he the confident patriarch, but now resembled that of a man with something to hide. “Come on, Da…I can tell you aren’t being overly honest with me.”

Sighing, Rupert tossed the stack of envelopes to the table once more and turned to his son with defeat in his eyes. “Are you sure you want to know, son? My past is something that I am not proud of and have wished to remain silent about.”

“If it will help me defeat Anyanka or stop Willow from being able to follow through with the resurrection…then, yes, I want…no need to know everything, Da. Please?” Spike urged; his voice softening as he tried to convince his father to divulge his deepest, darkest secrets. Sitting down on the couch, Spike motioned for Rupert to join him and was pleased when he did.

“It’s been years since I’ve practiced, well over two decades actually. While I had always held an unnatural interest for magick, I only truly practiced the art for around five years; spanning from the time I turned eighteen to just before my twenty third birthday. That was when I came to realize…no, was forced to the realization that what I had been doing could cause pain to the people I loved.

“There were four of us; a pathetic lot, really. One night our fascination took a turn for the worse, when our harmless bit of entertainment ended up with the death of one of our own. I still don’t know precisely what happened, but an enchantment went wrong, possibly from a bad translation of sorts, which released a demon instead of the spell that was intended. Before we were able to contain the demon, the youngest member of our circle, Gwendolyn Post, was found at the bottom of a ravine; her lifeless body crumpled and bloodied. Thankfully, we managed to reverse everything before anyone else was harmed.” Rupert took a shaky breath, holding back the tears he was unaware had accumulated, and glared at his son. “That was the last time I partook in the mystical arts, William. From that day forth, all of us swore to refrain from magicks.”

“I never imagined…” Spike muttered, “Da, I understand the apprehension you must feel about this discussion, but I honestly believe that with your assistance we might actually have a chance against Willow and her army.” Seeing the look of ambivalence on his father’s face, Spike pushed, “You don’t have to decided now, we’ve got a little time to figure out the best course of action. Just think about it, yeah?”

After an agreement of sorts, Spike pulled on his duster and headed out for patrol; doing a quick sweep of four different cemeteries before realizing that no one was out. The mood was disturbingly hushed; an eerie silence had fallen over the foggy darkness. Tucking his stake into the coat’s pocket, he started in the direction of the Bronze; his senses heightened in preparation for any time of covert attack that Willow might be planning.

In the midst the pulsating lights and writhing bodies on the dance floor, Buffy prowled along the edges; no longer in search of her latest victim. Now she was seeking a very familiar scent, one that her body had ravaged on more than one occasion, but had never grown fully accustomed to. Mysterious and sultry, laced with a hint of vulnerability, the potent fragrance tinged the air and assaulted Buffy’s senses. Stalking along the shadows, Buffy followed the scent as its wearer flittered about the club; as if she knew Buffy was tracking her.

Nearing the darkened overhang located by the stairs, Buffy’s hand clasped around the cool metal pole as she swung around to plant herself directly in front of her prey. Eye to eye, chocolate colored eyes penetrated jade depths as they sized up one another’s presence. Inhaling deeply, Buffy nearly allowed a groan of arousal to slip past her lips as the heavily perfumed air clouded her mind. It had been a long time, but her body still reacted just as intensely as it had so many years ago. There was only one difference now; Buffy’s hormones and blood lust were no longer as out of control as they had once been and hadn’t been since becoming involved with Spike.

Calming the emotions that swirled beneath the calm surface, Buffy smiled darkly and inquired, “So, what brings you to my neck of the woods?”

Chuckling deep in her throat, Faith replied, “Who me? Ah, nothing…just having a good time, but you know all about that doing that, right? What we had was nothing but a good time to you, was it?”

“Wow, Faith, who knew you’d be on the train to Bitter-town?” Buffy replied sarcastically. “Don’t tell me you came all the way across the country just to pout about our break-up. You that hard up for a date?”

“Hey, just living up to my promise.” Faith shot back, anger lacing through the composed appearance she was desperately trying to portray. “Oh, wait…you’d already walked out the door before I had a chance to respond to your…sudden departure. Basically, decided to make you pay for leaving me. The whole shebang…suffering, misery, pain…you know the drill right? You know, being a vampire and all.”

“Yeah, I’m not really looking to buy your exact brand of crazy, Faith.” Knowing exactly what buttons to push to incite anger in her ex-lover, Buffy’s smile brightened when her jab hit the spot. “Aw, was that pissy of me? So sorry, but I don’t take to kindly to threats.”

“Oh, it’s not a threat, Buffy. You can count on that.” Faith seethed, teeth clenched tightly together. “When we’re through with you and your little playmate, you’ll wish you’d just stayed with me in New York!”

“We? Have you taken to carrying a mouse in your pocket or have you finally gone insane and developed another personality?”

“You’ll find out soon enough!” Faith shouted loud enough to cause nearby patrons to stare in their direction. “She promised you’d suffer and I’m going to love watching you wriggle around in pain. We’ll see how much you like loosing your precious Slayer!” Faith’s eyes went wide as she realized what she had said. “I’ve gotta split, B. See ya round, ok?” She started in the direction of the stairs, only to be jerked backwards when Buffy’s talons dug into the tender skin of her upper arm. “Hey! Hands off!”

‘Not so fast, Faith! You’re working with Willow, aren’t you? Huh, guess you have gone insane. Don’t you remember what I told you about her?” Buffy pulled Faith close to her body, barking into her ear.” She’ll do nothing but hurt you.”

“Can’t hurt any worse than what you’ve already done. At least she’s promised to do what you didn’t have the guts to!” Tears streaked Faith’s face in anger as she struggled against Buffy’s hold. “Let me go!” She shrieked, clawing at the blonde’s pale skin leaving scratch marks slashing across her arm.

“Is there a problem here?” They were asked a burly man with a goatee, who was obviously a bouncer. Eyeballing the petite women, he reached out and removed Buffy’s hand from around Faith’s arm and said, “I think you need to leave the lady alone.” He informed Buffy, before turning to the sniffling brunette. “You all right, Miss?”

“Yeah, just ready to leave.” Faith wiped at the tears drying on her cheeks and asked, “Will you walk me out? Don’t really want her to follow.” Smiling up at the looming bald man, Faith turned on the sickeningly sweet charm that always had men eating out of her hand and allowed him to walk her in the direction of the exit, leaving Buffy bewildered.

As she watched helplessly as Faith was escorted out of the building, Buffy ground her teeth in frustration; torn between following Faith or finding Spike and filling him in on the latest news. Opting for locating the Slayer, figuring Faith was just stupid enough to allow them to find her later, Buffy quickly left the Bronze in search of Spike.


TBC...

After searching four graveyards without any luck, Buffy’s mood had worsened considerably. “Stupid town, too many graveyards.” She grumbled, kicking at a wayward soda can in the middle of the street. “I mean, you’d think if that many people were kicking the bucket that everyone else would move away. Don’t know why humans want to live on the Hellmouth anyway.” Kicking the can on final time, sending it flying across the empty street into a row of hedges, Buffy headed through the wrought iron gates of the fifth resting place in that area of town.

‘Eerily quiet tonight, wonder where all the baddies are.’ she thought as she wove through the rows of tombstones in search of the Slayer. ‘Guess they’re all hanging out together somewhere that I am obviously not.’ Checking the empty cemetery off her list, she headed out the back entrance in the direction of last one in that neighborhood.

While she walked, her mind wandered back to the incident with Faith at the club. ‘How did those two end up together. Make a pretty good pair though; both of them are a few French fries short of a Happy meal. Crazy bitches.’ Cutting through the park, Buffy tried Spike’s cell again and growled when she was greeted with his voicemail again. “Why carry the stupid thing if you aren’t going to keep it on?” She muttered, cramming the pink jeweled phone into her back pocket. Instantly, her mind went back to the sudden coupling of her two former lovers. “What could Willow possibly want with Faith? What could she possibly gain from…shit. Shit, shit, shit! Faith’s the fucking sacrifice! That stupid bitch actually believes that Willow will turn her before she croaks!” Buffy exclaimed, feeling slightly ignorant for not figuring it out sooner. “Ok, then if that really is the plan, then what did she mean about making me pay…what are they planning to do to Spike? I mean, other than the apocolypsy thing. Come on, Smmers! It’s not like we’re working with a lot of time to figure it out.” With her face scrunched with heavy concentration, she made her way through the park and down the street towards Restfield cemetary. About halfway down the street from her destination, an idea clicked in her head that was so obvious Buffy was fairly certain a light bulb was shining brightly above her head. Quickly, she dug her phone back out of her pocket and scrolled through the numbers until the desired digits popped out and hit the call button; paying no attention to the time.

It took one full loop of the Star Wars theme song before the line was answered, “Hey Andrew, it’s Buffy! Were you asleep or something?” Flicking her wrist, she consulted her watch and said, “It’s only what...around midnight there?”

“Not so much, I’m not in Manhattan.” Andrew Wells answered, sitting up in the bed and switching on the lamp. “It’s a little after four here. I’m in Prague, got sent here last week on assignment. So, long time no talk Miss Buffy, one can only assume you are in need of information at this hour.”

“Actually, yeah…got a little bit of a problem brewing on the Hellmouth and wanted to see if you could scrounge through those books of your and help me out.” Buffy confirmed sheepishly, hating that he knew her so well and feeling bad about not keeping in touch with her friend. They had known one another for nearly ten years now, after Andrew had stalked her at length hoping to become the next Anne Rice of vampire novels. Once she had gotten it through his rather thick skull that she wasn’t the inspiration for his first novel they had struck up a friendship of sorts and she had found out that his curiosity about demons was the result of finding out he was half-demon himself.

His father, a Lornax demon from Canada, had passed away just before Andrew’s second birthday by the hands of the Slayer, which prompted his mother to hide his demon lineage as long as possible in attempts to keep her small child safe. Upon his sixteenth birthday while blowing out the candles on his cake, poor Andrew received the biggest surprise ever when his demon had burst forth, giving his guests quite a scare. After a long discussion with his mother, an anthropology professor at a nearby college, Andrew’s interest in the paranormal and demonic cultures of the world had been peaked. Once he had graduated high school, he had set off on an educational trek which had led him straight to Buffy.

“Alright, let me get something to write on.” Andrew muttered on the other end. After a bit of paper rustling, he returned and said, “Give it to me.”

Quickly, she filled him in on all the details thus far and was presented with dead air when she was finished. “Um, Andrew, are you still there? Think you can give an old friend a hand?”

“Wow, I must say that you have presented me with quite a challenge which I readily accept. I’ll get on it immediately, ok? I’ll give you a call as soon as I find something out.” He replied with a chuckle, “You want me to email you whatever I find, too?”

“Ooh, that’d be awesome. I’m going to have to give the Watcher some type of written proof of the findings. Just send it to my Yahoo account, you still have the address?” Buffy responded with a smile as she arrived at the entrance of the cemetary and saw Spike tussling with a small group of fledgling vamps.

“You haven’t changed it since last time have you? Its still sexylildeadgirl, right?”

“Same as always! Thanks for doing this for us, Andrew. Call me day or night when you find something out, ok?” Flipping the cell phone shut, she stuffed it back into her pocket and easing just inside the gates to enjoy the show.

Watching Spike fight had to be one of the biggest turn-ons for Buffy; knowing his skill was poetry in motion, or a heady display of sexual energy in her book. Her body responded to his well placed punches and stakes as he dusted each vampire with deadly accuracy; tingles coursed across her skin as she leaned perched atop of a tombstone and watched the show.

“See something you like, pet?” Spike inquired with a lustful leer as he approached Buffy, clouds of dust settling in his wake. Planting himself directly in front of her, he nestled between her thighs and leaned in for a kiss.

“I always have been a sucker for some mindless violence.” She muttered against his lips, relishing in the taste of him. “Gets me all hot and bothered, ya know.” Wrapping her legs around his narrow waist, she pulled him closer and groaned as his erection pressed against her aching center. “Mmm…seems I’m not the only one here all worked up.”

“Oh, I’m more than worked up, kitten. I’m downright overheated.” Spike replied gruffly, leaning forward to capture her tiny lobe between his teeth. “Think you can cool me down.” Smiling into the soft skin of her neck, Spike chuckled at the garbled response flowing from her mouth. “What was that, luv?”

“I…uh, had something…to um, tell you. Researchy stuff.” She muttered softly, her words turning to moans when Spike’s hand dipped between their bodies and rubbed against her denim covered clit while mouth did mind numbingly wonderful things to her neck. “Oh, but for the love of Pete…I have no…um, idea what it…mmm…was right now. Oh!” She cried when his teeth bit down sharply on her neck. “I need you…want…now!” Her moans grew louder as she wiggled with uncontrollable desire in his arms. “Please…take…me…NOW!”

Pulling Buffy off the headstone, Spike kissed her passionately before spinning her around and pushing her against the cold marble. His hands slid over her ass, caressing the tender swells of flesh before reaching around and unfastening the button fly of her black jeans; roughly pushing the pants down so that the luscious globes of milky white skin were bare. Tightly he gripped them with his hands, no doubt marring the pale flesh with a bright smattering of half moon nail prints in his wake; all the while sending a sharp flash of pleasurable pain through his lover’s body that had her keening with desire. “Fuck, but you’re sexy, luv.” He ground out, his jaw clenched with need. Quickly, he pulled on hand away from Buffy’s ass and undid the fastening of his jeans to release his throbbing cock. Placing it at her dripping entrance, he warned, “Hang on, kitten…this is gonna be rough.”

“Damnit, Spike! Shut up and fuck me already!” Buffy demanded, thrusting her ass back against him in wanton need and sighed with pleasure as her requests were met. “Oh, fuck…mmm…harder, Spike!”

“Bossy lil’ chit this evenin’….not that I mind.” Spike replied, each syllable punctuated with a thrust of his hips. Gripping her hips with bruising force, he plowed into her tight channel from behind; delighting in each moan of satisfaction that burst forth from Buffy.

Their coupling was rough, frenzied and downright animalistic; their need for one another so intense that the world around them melted away. Cries of passion filled the cemetary, the light from the moon lighting the grounds softly, a faint breeze flittered by; rustling the trees and sending chills across their exposed skin.

Nearing her release, Buffy gripped the granite slab with unearthly force, sending fragments tumbling to the ground as they were crumbled beneath her fingers. When the searing flash of ecstasy ripped through her body a scream of passion burst forth and her inner muscles clamped around Spike’s shaft with inhuman strength; milking his cock and releasing his own earth shattering release; his cries of gratification covering her own.

Several moments passed as they leaned against the broken headstone, his body pressed heavily against hers as his heart raced and he gulped for air. “If watching me slay get this type of reaction, pet…you’re patrolling with me every bloody night.” Spike muttered between pants. Pulling out, he tucked himself back into his pants and helped Buffy straighten up as much as possible before gazing guiltily at the tombstone left broken in their wake. “Remind me to have that fixed. That is if we avert the end of the world an’ all.”

“Apocalypse!” Buffy shrieked with a smile on her face as the news she needed to tell him returned. “I’ve figured out who the human sacrifice is! If we can get to her, then maybe it will totally ruin Will’s plans!”

“Ok, if you found her then where might she be, kitten?”

“Yeah, slight problem with that. She kinda got away, but it was all that overgrown oaf of a bouncer’s fault! Normally I’d a just killed him, but I didn’t think you’d be all approvy of that.” Buffy replied with a guilty look. “Oh, but um…it’s Faith and she’s bound to screw up and let me find her eventually…hot, but not overly bright, ya know?”

“Right then, who’s Faith and how do you know she’s the one?” Spike probed as they headed home.

Sheepishly, she glanced out of the corner of her eye, “She’s um…kinda my other ex-girlfriend.”

TBC

Over the course of the weekend, the mood of the group had faltered; sinking into a pit of despair that rivaled the foreboding darkness that lay just beyond the window pane where mountains of clouds filled the charcoal gray sky as if Mother Nature were casting the appropriate background for the macabre play that was unfolding. While in most situations, one could consider no news to be good news; however, the old saying didn’t ring true in the case of averting apocalypses’. After two days of scouring every book available, which was quite a bit between Wesley and Rupert’s separate collections, the group had yet to produce anything of substantial use to stop the rising demon and the psychotic vampire intent on awakening her and had finally been sent home for a much needed break.

As the clock ticked away, signaling the rapidly approaching rising of the new moon only three short days away, Wesley checked his email in hopes that Buffy’s friend was able to locate the useful information that they had failed to find thus far. Scanning through the droves of useless mail, his hopes soared when he spotted the coveted message and quickly clicked on the link. Three times he read the through Andrew’s findings, each time silently praying that what was posted in front of his eyes was very much false information. Printing out the email, he jotted down the aforementioned titles that the half-breed used for research, Wesley grabbed his cell phone and called Rupert; insisting that he come over quickly.

Leaning back against the soft, worn leather of the antique armchair, Wesley removed his glasses and rubbed his weary eyes. His heart was heavy with grief and his body shook with barely contained rage as his mind wandered over the implications of Andrew’s email. If he was indeed correct with his information, the world as they knew it would never be the same after the ritual; win or lose, they would suffer a great loss.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Across town, Buffy stretched languidly as she awoke from a much needed mid-afternoon nap; fighting the good fight had brought on more changes than expected and she was struggling to adjust to the schedule of the Slayer and his cohorts. Glancing at the clock, it’s red digits glowing bright in the drape darkened room, she noted that Spike wouldn’t be back from his classes for at least another two hours and seriously considered rolling back over and sleeping until he returned. When she heard the shrill sound of the telephone and the tell tale sound of Rupert’s displeased voice that she was way too accustomed to, Buffy got out of bed and shrugged on a robe before tiptoeing out into the hallway for closer inspection. Since Rupert had returned and repeatedly announced his displeasure with her presence in the household, Buffy had taken to sneaking around and virtually hiding from her lover’s rather overbearing father.

Easing quietly down the stairs, careful to avoid the creaky step midway down, she listened in on the elder Giles’s conversation; pushing down the nauseating feeling of guilt that had snuck into her daily life. Extending her vampire senses, she discovered that the Watcher had received the much anticipated correspondence from Andrew and seemed rather upset by whatever her demon friend had discovered. Chewing on her bottom lip, she wondered how bad the findings were and was startled when the front door slammed shut hard enough to rattle the mirror in the foyer. Realizing that Rupert had left without saying goodbye, not that his rudeness surprised her at this point, Buffy sprinted up the stairs to the bedroom and made a beeline for the laptop perched on top of Spike’s dresser.

Pulling it onto the bed with her, she logged onto her email and located Andrew’s email; pleased as punch that he had followed her instructions to send one email to the Watcher and a separate one to her account. As she read through his email, Buffy’s eyes watered with sadness and despair as Andrew’s findings seeped into her mind. With the exception of the possibility of one piece of weaponry that could assist in defeating the bloodthirsty demon, there was still a very slim chance that it would work in averting the upcoming apocalypse. The images that her mind conjured as she reread the message were gruesome and she realized that the last vestige of optimism was slithering away with the hopes that the world would remain as it was.

Jumping from the bed, Buffy swiftly dressed in a pair of black jeans, a dark blue shirt and boots and clamored down the stairs with a look of determination plastered across her face. Checking to make sure the sky was still darkened with heavy rain clouds; she sprinted down the sidewalk and headed towards town in search of the one person who could possibly help ward off the upcoming danger…Faith.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Sitting in the middle of the sagging mattress in her room at the Sunnydale Motel, Faith Lehane mindlessly chewed on the already jagged ends of her fingernails and waited as patiently as possibly for Willow to return. After informing the red headed vampire that she had accidently leaked some potentially important information to the enemy, Faith had been ordered to stay inside the dingy motel room unless accompanied by Willow or one of her minions. Amazingly, the normally headstrong and temperamental brunette allowed for the Master Vampire to control her like a little child.

As the minutes on the clock slowly dragged by, her patience quickly ran out and Faith crawled off the bed in search of much needed food and possibly other forms of entertainment with or without permission from her so called keeper. Grabbing her chain wallet, she stuffed it in her back pocket at the same time she flung the door open and started to step outside; only to be pushed back inside the dank room by a pair of powerful hands.

“You can’t come in here!” She shouted indignantly as Buffy pushed her way into the motel room. “You weren’t invited.” Faith pouted like a petulant child as her former blonde lover shoved her back onto the threadbare comforter.

“Read the fine print next time, Faith.” Buffy replied smugly, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared down at her ex-girlfriend. “This isn’t your home, just a place Willow put you up in so that you were out of her hair. And that totally means that I can come in anytime I feel the need to; which won’t be too often since…eww…how can anyone sleep on that bed? Can we say washing machine? I’d hate to see what the bathroom looks like.”

“Did you come here just to insult my choice in living arrangements, B?” Faith asked, digging in her pocket for a cigarette as she glared at Buffy with hateful eyes. “Or did you actually have a purpose for this unwelcomed visit?”

Buffy grinned in spite of the situation, her mind flashing back to the time in her life that she shared with the spitfire in front of her. Shaking away the feeling of nostalgia, she got right to the point and asked softly, her voice laden with despair, “You realize that she’s not going to turn you, right? It’s a trick to get you to sacrifice yourself for her big Doomsday production. It has to be willing for the whole thing to work and Willow’s a master at promising whatever your heart desires so that she can bend you to her will.” Sinking down to her knees, Buffy timidly placed her hands on Faith’s thighs and pleaded to her with sad eyes. “Please don’t go through with this, Faith. You have no idea what she’s really got planned. It’s not going to go the way you hope and I truly don’t want to see you dead.”

TBC...

Slowly, the clock crept towards the bewitching hour as Spike navigated the ancient black car down the rustic moonlit roadway. Silence filled the air, suffocating in its thickness and laced with the mounting anxiety that rolled off the platinum blonde in waves. His white knuckled hands grasped the steering wheel and he chewed his luscious bottom lip in contemplation; mentally replaying everything that had been said and done at that evenings meeting, as well as what hadn’t.

“Argh!” Spike growled, slapping the wheel with barely contained frustration. “What the bleeding hell was that all about?”

“That, being…what?” Buffy asked tentatively, daintily licking on a cherry flavored lollipop and staring out the car window. Hearing Spike growl with aggravation, she giggled and added, “I mean, we’ve been on the road for like thirty minutes and the most exciting thing so far, aside from the stimulating non-conversation thing, was the caution light a couple miles ago. So, splainy please.”

“Don’t be daft! I’m talking about what happened at the meeting, or rather, what wasn’t discussed. I’m not bleeding blind, Buffy!” He all but growled in response. With a loud sigh, Spike reached on top of the dashboard and grabbed the rumpled pack of cigarettes he had tossed up there before the trip. Inhaling deeply, he continued, “Between whatever nonsense my father and Wesley are obviously up to, with the hushed conversations and hooded glances around the room, I have to come home and find you sporting a fresh set of bruises, care to explain were they came from?”

“Nothing major.” Buffy mumbled, careful to avoid hitting the nasty gash on her bottom lip with the sucker. “I tried to persuade Faith into leaving Willow and that ignorant plan of theirs alone, but the only agreement that was made was between her fist and my mouth. Stubborn ass woman.”

“And your little excursion couldn’t have waited for me? What…just had to make some kind of gesture to prove to everyone else that you’re fighting the good fight, now? Or, maybe you wanted to weasel back into the good graces of your former lovers, yeah?” Spike bit out, letting his anger at finding Buffy injured control his response. Upon hearing the sharp, unneeded intake of breath from the opposite side of the car, guilt over his reaction plagued his soul and made his heart heavy with grief. “Buffy, pet…I’m sorry for that. I’m a bad, rude man; please forgive me.”

“Oh, look!” She exclaimed with false enthusiasm as she pointed out the window. “Grapevines, which I’m guessing are standard, issue decoration for a vineyard. This must be our destination, pull over.” Sensing he was about to start up again with the apologies, Buffy waved him off and said, “Not now. We’re here for a reason and it’s not to fight with each other, ok? We’ll deal with it later.”

Minutes later, the car was parked and they ventured side by side down the aged cobblestone path towards the rickety looking rundown vineyard. “Why do these places always have to be so bloody difficult to find? Would it be so hard to lock them safely in a well lit, public place? No, of course not, have to be bleeding buried beneath a crumbling shack to add that element of danger from the sodding roof collapsing.” Spike crumbled, crushing his cigarette beneath the heel of his boot before pushing the creaky wooden door open to reveal an even more desolate sight before them. “Oh, well tha’s just brilliant, innit?”

“What? Poor lil’ Slayer actually needs a floor to walk on?” Buffy retorted, only half joking as she deftly made her way across the broken rafters and cracked floorboards towards the middle of the room. “Aw, come on, Slayer! You aren’t going to let a girl show you up, are you?” She called out, taunting the still grumbling Slayer as he gradually made his way across the wrecked flooring until he was finally standing just a few short feet away from Buffy with a smug look on his face. “Don’t give me that look; you’re only over here because your manhood was threatened. So, where do you think this axe thingy is?”

“Scythe, luv…like the Grim Reaper carries about.” Spike clarified, holding out a hand for support as Buffy worked her way down the dilapidated stairway. “Course, I’ve got no idea what it looks like, where it is and how we’re going to find the damned thing.”

“Well, since this whole adventure was big on the cryptic, I’m going to guess the prize is totally at the bottom of the cereal box.” She replied wryly, staring down the whole in the middle of the staircase, giving the couple a bird’s eye view of the filthy basement below.

“I’m guessing we jump now?”

“Might as well, pet. It doesn’t seem like the rest of the stairs will hold us anyway, yeah?” Still clutching her tiny hand in his, they nimbly descended into the dank darkness of the vineyard’s basement. The nagging sensation that had plagued him since they entered the building finally cumulated and left a sinking sensation deep in his belly. Glancing around the dimly lit basement, it occurred to Spike that an abandoned vineyard shouldn’t be aglow with romantic lighting. He was about to mention this to Buffy, when she shrieked and motioned to the corner of the cellar like a child on Christmas. “Well, would you look at that?” Spike muttered, disbelief filling his words as he started across the room to where the object of their desire was perched on top of a chunk of rock. “It’s a bit like the Sword in the Stone, yeah?”

“Quit with the awe and pull it out already!” Buffy burst out, the thrill of their find combined with the anticipation that had built since Andrew had mentioned the specially designed weaponry finally spilling over. “Ooh! It’s pretty!”

“Yes, indeed it is and may I extend our thanks to you, Slayer, for being here to remove it for us?” A cold, eerie voice commented from behind them. “Now, would you be so kind to hand it over?”

“Not bloody likely.” Spike announced as he singlehandedly yanked the gleaming silver and blood red scythe from the mountain of rock that had been its home for centuries. “Don’t tell me that was too hard for you? ‘S like running a hot knife through butter; was so easy. You must be a bleeding weakling, mate.” Hoping off the rock mantle he’d been standing on, Spike took a menacing step towards the decrepit vampire huddled before them.

“At my age, one does tend to not fare well with such…physical requirements. However, that’s why it is oh so necessary to travel with protection.” With a wave of his hand, the brown cloth swaddled vampire motioned behind him, where at least a dozen snarling vampires were poised to attack. “Our lovely leader predicted that you would come sniffing around for your precious scythe. She’ll be so pleased to find out she was right!”

“I’m hurt! You expected me to be here and yet, you only brought this pathetic group? ‘Fraid you bruised my ego.” Spike replied snarkily. Twirling the weapon in his hand like a baton he sauntered towards the impressive group and prayed that they couldn’t smell the emotions that radiated from inside. Although fear wasn’t one of them, trepidation certainly was and for a brief second he faltered in his decision to attack; wondering if just the two of them could take on the double digit crowd. Just then, he saw Buffy spring into action, pouncing like a predatory feline at the octogenarian in command. “Right then, off we go!” With a ferocious battle cry, Spike catapulted himself into the fray, swinging the scythe with precise accuracy; his body radiating with the energy that emanated from the ancient weapon.

Side by side, they fought with the deadly precision of two skilled warriors and slowly the numbers against them dwindled off until there were only five remaining. Spike had lost sight of Buffy and figured that she had disappeared to the other side of the room in search of other opponents. Spinning quickly, he staked an approaching vamp with the wooden end of the weapon and grinned proudly as the dust settled to the floor.

Another approached and for a brief moment, Spike wondered why they always seemed to attack one at a time. Strategically, it would have been to their advantage to rush them head on with a surprise group attack; which would undoubtedly been more to their benefit with lesser fatalities on their side. Shrugging his shoulders, he figured their stupidity would be his gain and jumped back into the fight and took down another vampire in the blink of an eye.

Sensing one of the enemies approaching from behind as another stalked towards him, Spike swung the blade forward in a perfect arc and sliced the head off the one in front with ease, before thrusting the wooden stake under his arm to stab the one behind in one fluid motion. Satisfied that the second hit had landed perfectly, he pounced on top of a nearby crate and flung himself in the direction of the final vampire; landing on his feet at the same time the scythe decapitated the creature.

Pleased with the outcome, Spike wiped the dust that had settled on his shirt to the floor and turned around to find Buffy. Blood drained from his body, his face chalk white as his eyes instantly filled with tears as his gaze fell upon her stilled body.

Crumpled next to the stairs, Buffy struggled to gain her footing, but failed do so when another white hot flash of pain ripped through her midsection. Forcing her eyes to open, she glanced down to where her bloodstained hands covered the gaping wound in her belly. Tears of pain coursed down her cheeks and she lifted her head in search of Spike; their eyes connected and time froze briefly as the sorrow in his gaze washed over her. Less than a second later, he was next to her; his tears slipping from his face to mix with the blood covering her shaking hands.

“I’ll be fine, really.” Buffy insisted, pushing away his hands as he frantically tried to lift her shirt to inspect the wounds. “Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t wear my good shirt, huh?” Her pathetic excuse for humor came out in a ragged whisper as the pain coursed through her body and all thoughts she may have had about the white tank top, chosen at the last minute, flew right out of her mind.

“Oh, God! Buffy, luv…I…I didn’t know it was you.” Spike sobbed, “I…just felt a vampire behind me…GOD! I should have looked!” Chest heaving, he choked back his tears and reached into his boot for the knife he had tucked away just in case. Bringing it to his wrist, he placed the tip against the pulsating blue vein just beneath the alabaster skin. “You need blood.” He stated, rather than asking, as his hands shook with guilt and fear.

“Spike, no!” Buffy whispered as she made a pathetic attempt to push away his offerings. “I can’t…shouldn’t, I don’t think I can control it, the demon, right now. Please, just wait until we get home, ok? We really need to get out of here.”

Nodding, Spike tucked the knife back into his boot and carefully tucked Buffy into his arms. With the scythe grasped tightly in Buffy’s tiny hands, Spike quickly navigated his way through the rapidly darkening basement and back up into the main quarters of the vineyard. Glancing down at the precious bundle in his arms, his heart briefly clutched with fear when he noticed her eyes were closed and she wasn’t breathing, before remembering that Buffy would be dust if the worse case scenario did occur.

Once outside, he sprinted up the walkway to the car; throwing open the passenger side door with little grace. Carefully placing Buffy into the seat, he swiftly removed his black T-shirt, bunched it up and covered the abdomen wound with it. “Buffy, sweetheart? I need you to hold this, yeah? Gotta keep pressure on it, luv.” Satisfied that she would do as she was told, he slid across the trunk and climbed into the driver’s seat; throwing the car in gear before the door was closed.

Just shy of thirty minutes later, Spike barreled through the front door of his home; sufficiently startling the remaining occupants. “I need blood, now!” He bellowed, stomping over to the couch and glared at the couple sitting on it until Fred and Angel scurried away. Gently, he laid the precious cargo in his arms on the couch and kneeled on the floor beside her; mentally willing his love to open her beautiful green eyes. Intently focused on the unconscious vampire, the rest of the room faded away until a delicate hand placed a coffee cup of warmed blood in front of him. Glancing up, he spotted Tara and muttered a grateful offering of thanks before turning back to Buffy.

The next couple of hours passed infuriatingly slow for the couple who were now located in their bedroom, since Spike had found it increasingly difficult to deal with the other people in the living room with them. After a quick wash in the shower, where he had soothingly washed away the caked blood that stained her slowly healing stomach, Spike had crawled into bed beside her; settling in for a long night. Thankfully, shortly before sunrise, he had been greeted with the wonderful sight of her luminous eyes staring back at him. Instantly, Spike’s eyes had filled with tears, which led to kissing and eventually, they made love just before dawn.

Checking once more to make sure Spike was indeed asleep, Buffy quickly dressed in a clean tank top and silk pajama bottoms before slipping downstairs for nourishment. Rounding the corner to the kitchen, she was startled to find Rupert sitting at the table, reading the newspaper and sipping a cup of coffee. “Morning.” She whispered, heading directly to the refrigerator and grabbing a bag of blood for breakfast.

“Spike told me what happened,” Giles spoke up, immediately getting to the point, “He mentioned that you refused to take blood from him after you were injured, even though it was offered freely.”

“Yeah, well…he’s not here to be dinner for me.” Buffy muttered, leaning against the counter as she sipped from the coffee cup, “It would have been too dangerous, couldn’t risk it. You sound surprised.”

“Yes, well, you are demon even though you seem to forget that fact quite regularly.” Giles replied with distaste. “Of course, it changes nothing, you understand. We will be proceeding with the plan set forth by myself and Wesley, the other nonsense is off the table. And, there will be no mention of it to Spike, do you understand?”

“Figured as much, leave it to a bunch of ‘Know it all’ Watcher’s to ignore any information given to them by anyone other than their precious Council. Is it because your poor little egos might be bruised by listening to someone like Andrew? Can’t bear the fact that a demon might know more than you do?” Buffy replied bitterly as she glared at Spike’s father, her eyes blaring with rage. “Can you honestly ignore what he said…even if it might save your son?!”

“Listen here, we will do what is in the best interest for everyone and no one, especially not you, will convince me otherwise!” Rupert ground out, slamming his cup to the table with enough force to splatter the steaming liquid over the sides. “It’d be best if you realize that your opinion in this matter is neither wanted nor needed and all in all, the best thing you could do at this moment would be to bloody well disappear.” Pushing the chair back, Rupert stood up and prepared to leave the room, “I do not trust you, this whole situation suddenly appeared at the same time you did and I find that to be a little more than just a mere coincidence. Sadly, I cannot convince my son otherwise. Lowering his voice, he added, “Mark my words, if given the chance…I will dispose of you properly, consequences be damned.”

TBC...


**One last note: You will not like Rupert, maybe later! Also....Reviews would be appreciated.**

Two days passed, forty eight long hours, and finally, the night in question was upon them. The sun was nearly finished with its daily descent, giving way to the new moon that currently hung low in the dimly lit sky as the warriors headed out on their mission armed with a variety of weapons and magical ingredients.

Holding up the back of the line, Rupert glared at Buffy’s back as she took her place up front with his son. Distrust and loathing curdled in his stomach as he thought back to Wesley’s startling discovery after waking up early that morning. Still shaken from the find, the Watcher had recounted the morning’s activities as he slumped in his favored armchair in the Giles’s living room.

”It’s gone, Rupert! Everything we’ve worked so diligently at over the past two weeks was taken.” Wesley had announced, running his shaking hands through his disheveled hair. “I’ve no earthly idea how the thieves managed to gain entry, no bleeding clue! A vampire wouldn’t have permission to enter and a human would’ve had to get past my security system, it’s mind-boggling!”

Of course, while Wesley had sat in wonder and desperately tried to figure out what could have happened, the cogs in Rupert’s head had started up. A vampire could have easily made entrance to the apartment if they had already gained permission at an earlier date. Plus, he was quite sure that a stealthy creature of the night could very effortlessly move around the apartment without setting off the alarm system. These conclusions had instantly led Rupert to one suspect…Buffy. Unfortunately, Rupert knew that if he rallied against the Buffy, Spike would have turned against him; which infuriated him even further. Continuing on the journey to the abandoned warehouse that the ceremony was rumored to be held, Rupert kept his eyes trained on the traitor’s back the entire time.

Nervously, Fred shuffled forward with the rest of the gang. Her hands tightly were clutched around the small satchel filled with an assortment of magical needs. She was frightened beyond belief, afraid not only of the impending fight, but of the role she played. Since the spell to stop the portal from being opened had disappeared from Wesley’s apartment, they had had to scurry around to find something…any type of spell that might assist their fight if needed. Thankfully, Tara had spotted a dampening spell in one of Rupert’s old texts and hopefully, it would work. Designed only to draw strength from a being, it would at least assist in slowing down the powerful demon if she was released from her prison. Biting her lip, her mind raced wildly with all the possible ways she could manage to mess up the spell.

Angel marched beside his lifelong friend, Gunn, both armed to the hilt with matching swords and pockets laden with bottles of holy water. While he wore a brave mask, inside he quivered with fear. Fear of what was to come, fear of what he would have to do and fear that they might not make it out alive. Cutting his eyes to the left, he made contact with Charles and saw the understanding in his dark eyes. Realizing that he wasn’t alone in his fright, Angel clutched the leather wrapped handle with a clammy hand and marched on.

Rounding the corner of Beech St. and Harbor Dr. the abandoned shipping facility loomed ahead of them. Breaking off into groups, they entered the darkened warehouse and headed towards the basement where the ritual was supposed to occur. Spike and Buffy went in first, managing to take out a handful of guards before disappearing into the stairwell.

Wesley headed to an alcove, which was located just above the proposed ritual site according to the buildings blueprints, with Fred and Tara in tow. Assisting in lighting the appropriate candles for the spell, he helped lay out the ingredients and other items that Fred would need in order to perform the spell if it was called for. Thankfully, Tara had dabbled in a little witchcraft in her earlier days at college and had offered to stay with the very apprehensive Fred to help ground her during the magicks. Once the girls were settled in, he gathered his own weapons and headed towards the basement to join the others.

Rupert followed Angel and Gunn into the dank basement, surprised that they had only encountered a few well placed guards and not the swarm they had planned for. However, his mounting enthusiasm was quickly dashed when they entered the ritual site and was faced with what appeared to be close to fifty snarling demons that were ready and willing to feast on them. Raising their weapons, the trio waded into the masses and launched the fight of their lives.

Up above, supposedly safe from the danger below, Tara cried out in surprise as she was grabbed from behind. Struggling against her captor, she was dragged backwards into another room, while Fred was left to fend off her own attacker. Wiggling in the vampire’s arms, she struck out with her elbow and managed to land a painful blow to her chest, which was just enough to wrestle out of the hold. Turning to face the raven haired creature, Tara did just as Spike had shown her and swiftly staked the evil beast directly in her heart; sending waves of dust to the floor. Quickly, she hurried back into the hidden room just in time to see Fred tossed over the railing. With a shout of fury, Tara rushed the demon, plunging her stake into his back and striking his heart. Stepping through the cloud of dust, she leaned over the railing just in time to see Fred land on the stone floor with a thud.

Wesley fended off an approaching vampire, dusting him in passing, as he hurried to the site of the fallen novice witch who had unknowingly captured his heart. Terror had filled his veins, ice cold fear chilling him to the bone, when he had seen her plummet to the ground from the alcove that had been chosen for her to perform the needed spell; figuring the out of the way location would be safe. Thankfully, Wesley’s hopes had soared when he witnessed her crawl away from the bedlam in the main room and huddle in a nearby corner. Finally, he was with Fred and after a quick search for injuries, he was amazed that she had escaped the fall with only a few scrapes and bumps. Wrapping his arms around the trembling waif, Wesley placed a kiss to the crown of her head; crouched down in the darkened nook together they prayed for a miracle.

Across the room, Angel and Gunn fought together, figuring there was strength in numbers. However, what they hadn’t counted on was the fact that the vampires in the room outnumbered the humans by at least five to one. Keeping their backs to the wall, they fought off the demons one by one; dusting as many as they could and severely injuring the ones that they couldn’t by using the short bladed swords Rupert had provided them with. Mercilessly, they tore throw droves of mindless minions, scattering their ashes to the ground to mingle with the puddles of borrowed blood that seeped from their injured bodies.

Armed with an antique mace, Rupert swarmed the masses, mutilating the lumbering demons with the spiked weapon in attempts of slowing them down. At this point, it was imperative to burst through front line of vampires and assist Spike in stopping the sacrifice; making sure that the portal was never opened and remained nothing but a chalk outline on the floor. With an animalistic roar, he plowed through his attackers, taking out chunks of their cold flesh and splattering the surroundings with garish bloody markings. Feeling more alive than he had in years, the irony of the situation wasn’t lost on the former Watcher as the possibility of death and end of the world loomed in the immediate future.

Pushing past the minions, Spike stalked across the room towards his intended target…Willow. Standing on the opposite side of the altar where her willing sacrifice was laid out dressed in ceremonial clothing, her black robe and flame red hair flowed around her body contrasted sharply against her surroundings. Noticing Spike for the first time, her lip curled in a vicious snarl as she pushed away from the marble slab and headed in his direction. Squaring up for the fight, Spike reared back with the scythe and sarcastically announced, “So sorry to ruin your lil’ party.”

“How nice of you to come out and play with us tonight, Slayer…I was wondering if you would be at my tea party, but no crumpets for you, naughty boy. It’s very rude to show up late!” Willow replied with a smile as she clapped her hands together with the glee of a young child who was about to open her birthday presents. “You’re too late, don’t you see? Silly boy jumping in to save the world when there’s nothing left to save. Gumdrops and roses won’t make me happy, only the present of blood will suffice. I’ll bathe in the wine and dance in the moonlight while my new Mommy rips your friends to pieces!”

“You’re off your nutter, crazy bint.” Spike remarked, fully understanding for the first time that Buffy had been completely honest about the mental stability of her sire. As the loony vampire twirled in her spot, glee written all over her face, he charged and was rewarded with a knife to the side. As the pain seared through his body, Spike realized that while the petite vampire might be legally insane, she was still a ferocious fighter and would be harder to take down than he had originally thought. Pushing aside the pain, he struck back with the scythe, but failed to connect in the correct location and only managed to graze her velvet dress across the middle.

With feline grace, she attacked; fangs and talons bared, Willow growled in frustration as her attempts were blocked. Growling, she tackled the Slayer, momentarily stunning them both and she smiled triumphantly as the Slayer’s precious weapon clattered to the floor and out of arms reach. “Aw, poor little Slayer lost his trusty weapon…sucks to be you!”

“Not bloody likely, bitch!’ Spike growled as he used his legs to toss the snarling vampire off to the side, giving him just enough space to regain his footing. “Don’t need that to take you down.” Striking out, he punched Willow square in the face and said, “Got plenty of stakes for that!” Seemingly pulling out said object out of thin air, he slammed it into her chest and waited for her to dust. Sadly, she had flinched just before impact and had managed to take the sliver of wood just above the right breast, just shy of the heart. Amazed, all he could do was glare at the smiling bitch as she smugly pulled the object from her chest and tossed it to the ground. “Fuck.” He muttered, jumping back into the fight with a solid kick to the side of her head. Momentarily stunning her, Spike followed up with a punch to the face and smiled at the satisfying sound of crunching bone. Circling the bloodied, growling vamp, they danced together as he slowly made his way towards the scythe.

Focused intently on the fight between her sire and lover, Buffy barely noticed as Faith slid from the table and into the floor. Turning her head back to the altar, she cursed and sprinted forward; effectively slicing off the head of an approaching vampire. “Faith?” She hollered as she searched the candle lit area for signs of life. When the brunette stood up from behind the marble slab, Buffy cringed at the expression on her face; seething hatred mixed with the heartbreaking tears of a jilted lover. Their eyes locked and everything around them drowned out, the clink of blades striking their targets, flesh hitting flesh and the cries of war no longer apparent, leaving behind a standoff between two former lovers.

Suddenly, Faith’s hand shot out and Buffy watched in horror as she plucked the ceremonial dagger from the marble slab and held it threateningly against her chest. From the corner of her eye she could see that Spike was still very much entangled in a vicious struggle with Willow and obviously hadn’t noticed the looming danger that Faith was now presenting the with. Laying down her sword, she held her hands up in surrender to show the trembling brunette that she wasn’t going to harm her. “Don’t…please, Faith…just put the knife down.” She begged; her voice shaking with fear as her previous lover stepped into the center of the chalk drawn pentagram on the dusty floor. “You don’t have to do this, please think about what you’re about to do…to cause.” Cautiously, she took a step forward, planning on rushing Faith before she had a chance to draw blood, but was forced to a halt by the sight of blood seeping through the white silken material above her heart.

“Why should I, B? Huh? Come on; give me one fucking reason why I shouldn’t just end it all right now?” Faith growled out in anger. “Like you even fucking care what happens to me…you’re too damned busy with him to want me anymore! God, he kills your kind and yet…you’re still with him. Is that all I needed to have done to get you to love me?” Her voice quaked with emotion as she eased back onto the center most spot on the drawing and waited for the answer she so desperately craved; her heart breaking into millions of pieces when she realized it would never come.

“Faith, I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want.” Buffy whispered sadly. “I can’t take your life, that’s not the answer to your life that you think you need. I know you won’t believe me when I say this, but you deserve better than what I can give you. Dying can’t…no, it won’t fill that hole inside yourself and neither will being with me, not when you deserve to be with someone that loves you.”

“Oh, that’s rich! Like you love him?!” She shrieked, pressing the blade harder against the supple flesh of her chest; warmth seeped down her skin, past her quivering stomach and into the braided silver band cinched around her waist. Shaking her head with despair, Faith realized with one final look deep into Buffy’s eyes that she would never be granted her wish; that an eternity with her love would never be fulfilled. Laughing bitterly, a sadistic smile spread across her face as her decision was made. “Guess I’m gonna have to go with an old saying, B. ‘Course you know I was always fond of the dramatics! If I can’t have you…no one else can.”

“Faith! No!” Buffy shouted. Time seemed to slow as the erratic female ceremoniously blew a kiss in the direction of her former lover; Buffy propelled herself forward with unnatural speed, but still wasn’t fast enough as the blade disappeared into Faith’s heart and blood poured forth from the self inflicted wound. “NO!” Buffy shouted as Faith sank to the floor.

Intensely immersed in the fight with Willow, Spike scarcely heard the confrontation between Buffy and Faith. The sounds of their voices had filtered in on occasion, but his interests had lain elsewhere and now they were all going to suffer because of it.
However, as soon as the first drop of blood hit the diagram, a low level rumbling filled the makeshift temple and captured his attention. Turning his head for a brief second, his shoulders sank with realization and terror coursed through his veins when he saw Faith tumble to the ground; dagger firmly planted in her chest and a bright bloom of blood staining the silken gown she had adorned for the ceremony.

As the sacrificial being laid motionless, slowly bleeding to death, Willow rejoiced in her success and used the diversion to escape from her struggle with the Slayer. Slinking into the shadows, the redheaded vampire slipped away unnoticed and scampered away from danger; sadistically pleased with the outcome of the night’s events.

Chaos became more prevalent as Faith’s blood pooled around her fallen body and seeped into the chalk markings on the ground. Walls crumbled and the floor cracked, screams from the rooms occupants combined with the breakage and filled the room with thunderous noise. Remaining vamps scattered like cockroaches, leaving the only the so called heroes standing helplessly in the apex of the pandemonium. Spike, however, paid them no notice.

His mind was filled with a haze, foggy with delusion as if the past hour had been spent drinking instead of fighting for the safety of the world. Spike struggled mentally, brow marred with confusion, as he desperately tried to make sense of the world around him. The darkened temple shook as the end of the world slowly approached, candles clattered to the ground, spilling their hot wax across the dust covered floor and pebbles from the crumbling walls joined into the mix. None of this mattered to Spike as he stood motionless in the center of the breaking room, for his attentions were focused solely on his love. He could sense her presence as the space between them grew smaller, her shape growing clearer with each step and finally she was within grasp. Reaching out, Spike enveloped Buffy in his shaking arms, their gaze never faltered and he felt safe as he stared into her golden eyes. His mind never registered the danger, not even when presented with her demon visage; which was why his azure orbs twinkled with moisture as her fangs sank deep into his neck.

“Buffy?” Spike whispered hoarsely, his hands grasping fruitlessly at her arms in a futile attempt to stop the attack. Clutching the cold flesh of her biceps, he dug his nails deeply into her arms and felt rivulets of blood seep down his shaking fingers. Her grasp on his rapidly weakening body strengthened as his powerful blood filled her veins and Spike’s legs dangled lifelessly when she lifted him from the ground. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes as he slipped from her strengthened hold, his body drooped as she lowered him to the ground. Lying prone on the cold stone floor, he forced his eyes partially open and gazed up at the vampire and uttered one final word before slipping into unconsciousness, “Why?”




TBC....and remember, there is a method to my madness!

For a brief moment, time stood still as Faith’s body laid motionless in the center of the diagram. Frozen with shock, Buffy’s body refused to move forward and her eyes were wide open as she stared at the pooling crimson blood seeping from the fallen girl. “Oh, God…no.” She whispered, her words spoken too softly for anyone else to hear, as the realization of what was to come sank in. Lifting her head, she averted her liquid filled eyes from her departed former lover to the spot where Spike was located; warrior stance still firmly in place and the mystical scythe forged especially for him grasped tightly in his hands.

It seemed as though the moment their gazes connected the world began to fall apart. The worn floor rumbled and churned with ferocity beneath their feet, plaster and paint crumbled to the ground as the cement block walls shook violently. From the apex of the room, where Faith’s lifeless body was now drained of blood, the floor beneath her undulated with the pressure from the opening portal and small pieces of the chalk outline crumbled and fell into the abyss below. Suddenly, intense bursts of light shone through the cracks in the floor, illuminating the ceiling above as the center of the floor began to give way.

Knowing that time was running out, Buffy mustered up the courage to do what had to be done. Gazing intently at Spike, she kept eye contact with the confused Slayer and carefully crept towards him. On the outside, her face was a calm mask of resolution, but on the inside her heart was breaking and quivering with terror and anxiety. Somehow, she managed to put one foot in front of the other with a determined pace until finally she was in his arms. Strong and capable, his embrace was comforting and for a moment she allowed her mind to wander into a delusional place of safety; that the world was no longer crumbling away and they were protected in one another’s arms.

With tears falling freely, spilling over her cheeks with audible sobs of distress wracking her tiny frame, Buffy broke eye contact with Spike and buried her fangs deeply into his neck. Her demon soared with delight as the first wave of potent blood flowed into her mouth and slipped deliciously down her throat, but rebelled at the thought of killing the person it considered to be its mate. Quickly, she drank and filled her body with his blood, only stopping as his heart slowed to a near death pace.

Crying in earnest, her heart cracked as Spike’s weakened body stilled in her arms, his whispered pleas of wonderment resounded in her ears as she carefully lowered him to the floor. Leaning over, cold tears slipped from her cheeks and landed softly against his paling face as she covered his lush lips with a bloodstained kiss of goodbye. "I'm sorry, my love."

Standing up, Buffy wiped her face before turning around in search of the others and was not surprised when face with angry glares and raised weapons. “You knew it would have to be done, Watcher.” She stated; her watery eyes trained on the only person in the room that wasn’t fuming with hatred towards her. With sad eyes, the grief stricken Watcher glanced towards his fallen Slayer and nodded his head in Buffy’s direction; a silent acknowledgement to her words. “Just make sure he knows, ok?” She choked out before turning on one heel to face the almost fully open portal.

Without a single glance backwards, Buffy darted forward towards her target; the Slayer’s blood sang inside her veins, humming along at an alarming swift pace as its mystical powers fueled her body with accentuated power. Blindingly fast, she catapulted over the ceremonial alter, barely placing one foot on the crackling marble as she bounded over it to the desired destination. With her arms spread out to each side, she sprang forward in a swan dive; falling gracefully into the swirling gateway.

As soon as her body disappeared into the radiating light, there was an audible pop and suddenly…the destruction stopped. In an instant, the deteriorating room was filled with an eerily calm silence; the room no longer resonating with the booming sounds of obliteration. Stunned by the change in events, the seven warriors who remained standing stood in shock.

Jumping to attention, Rupert pushed past Wesley, who had been holding him back since Buffy’s attack on Spike. Kneeling next to his son, he checked for a pulse and felt the weight of the world lift from his shoulders as relief soared through his body when presented with a faint pulse. Standing up, he instantly began barking orders, “Angel. Gunn, both of you take Spike to the hospital immediately. Girls, why don’t you go with them? I need to discuss something with Wesley and deal with cleaning up the evidence of what happened tonight.”

As soon as the others disappeared from his sight, Rupert turned towards Wesley with a grim stare. Before the words that were on the tip of his tongue could tumble out, the ashen Watcher held up his hand and resolutely stated, “It had to been done, Rupert. You and I both know it, we knew there was chance that tonight would come to this, but for now…we have work to do.” Without waiting for a response, Wesley headed towards the center of the room and prepared for the final stage; a silenced Rupert following in his wake.

Hours passed excruciatingly slow as they waited for Spike to wake. As the minutes ticked away sluggishly, the days melted into nights until a week had passed and still no response from their fallen leader. Eventually, they all had to return to their normal lives; disappearing to their respective homes, jobs and classes. One by one they trickled in to visit once a day for a quick visit and update, with only Rupert spending his nights there holed up in the darkened room with his motionless son and the ever present sounds of the hospital.

It was on one dark and stormy night two weeks after the dreadful fight that Rupert was jarred from a fitful sleep by the shrill sound of an alarm. Jolted out of the appalling chair that he had called home for so many nights, he was in the midst of gathering his wits just as two nurses barreled into the room; pushing him aside as they tended to their ward. Suddenly, the room was awash with blinding bright luminosity as the overhead light was switched one; blinking furiously, Rupert searched for his glasses and was knocked aside as the doctor bustled into the room. Confused and more than a little bit irritated, Rupert settled the glasses on his nose and opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the most wonderful sound in the world.

“Dad?” Spike croaked; his throat dry and scratchy from days of nonuse. Peering around the medical staff, avoiding their incessant pokes and questions, he held out his hand towards his sniffling father and motioned for him to come over.

“Mr. Giles, I think it’d be best if you step outside for a moment.” Dr. Bartlett advised, motioning for Rupert to leave. “We need to assess your son’s condition…”

“No, I need to talk to my father…you can bloody well poke and prod me as much as you want, but afterwards.” Spike growled as he attempted to pull himself upwards to a sitting position, but failed miserably as his weakened body refused to cooperate. When the doctor opened his mouth to protest, Spike snarled in his direction and said, “Sod off!”

“William, that’s enough. There’s no sense in being rude, they’ve done quite enough taking care of you and I think you could at least show some respect.” Giles’s advised, as he stepped aside to let the doctor resume his place near the bed. “Now, I’m going to make some phone calls and let everyone know you’re awake while the doctor makes sure everything is quite all right with you.”

Confused and overwhelmed by the despairing sense of bitterness and betrayal, he sighed in defeat and nodded towards his father. “Whatever, I’ll play the prodigal patient…Just as long as you’re ready to explain things to me when you get back.”

“Of course, son.” Rupert conceded as he disappeared into the hallway. Leaning against the cool tile wall, he closed his weary eyes and muttered, “So long as someone bloody well explains it to me.” Sighing, he pushed off the wall and headed down the hallway towards the nurse’s station to begin the lengthy process of advising everyone of Spike’s latest status.

Half an hour later, after numerous calls and a report from the doctor, Rupert let himself back into Spike’s room, pleased to find his son had been maneuvered into a reclined position and resting. “Well, I hear you’re expected to make a full recovery.”

“Quit stalling, Dad.” Spike replied harshly, his eyes blazing with hurt and uncertainty. “How in the hell are we still here? What happened back there? Why…why did she…God, Buffy?!” Sobs wracked his body as he desperately tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes.

Perching on the edge of his bed, Rupert reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled envelope. “There were things that happened that night that you weren’t aware of…information that we had found out prior to the ceremony…that we kept from everyone, really. We thought it was for the best, Spike. You see, Andrew found an ancient text that mentioned the only way to close the portal would be if the Slayer’s blood passed over the threshold, which would have meant your death. When Buffy found out, she concocted this harebrained strategy for her to take you place if the need arose. I, of course, refused to accept her plan or the entire possibility that there might be a chance that we would have to resort to such…drastic measures.” Glancing down at the lilac paper in his shaking hands, he sighed as he laid it in his son’s lap. “She left this for you; I found it on your pillow in the bedroom the next afternoon. She must have intended to go against our wishes from the beginning. Anyway, here…you should read this first, I’m sure you’ll have more questions afterwards.” Standing up, Rupert handed Spike the letter and headed towards the door. “I was wrong about her, son. She truly loved you and I was too blinded by hate to see that. I am sorry for your loss.”

Rupert stared at his son, the saddened expression on his handsome face, the defeat and despair that shaped his existence as he slumped in the bed with the envelope clutched in his hands. As he exited into the deserted hallway, Buffy’s words filled his mind and soul and he knew that his actions towards her would haunt him mercilessly. Sliding down into a nearby chair, he let his head fall forward into awaiting hands as he thought back to the night of Andrew’s discovery.

“Absolutely not! What you’re saying is completely preposterous and I’ll have nothing to do with it!” He had shouted when presented with the research. “This is just her insane attempt to pay a hand in my son’s death! Why can’t you see that, Wesley?!”

“I love Spike, and if you can’t see that…then you’re just an idiot! If I wanted him dead, then I would have done it back in the alley years ago when he was practically begging for it!” Buffy had shouted, jumping up with such force that the wooden chair she had been perched upon had clattered backwards. “Are you so willing to prove me wrong that you’ll let your son die? Force him to sacrifice himself to save the world when I am more than willing to do it for him?! What’s wrong with you?”

“And just how do you propose you step in for him? It’s not like you can just assume the role of Slayer?” He asked, turning on the approaching vampire.

“It’s not his body that makes him what he is; it’s his blood that holds his power…the key. It’s always about blood.” Buffy stated, hands on her hips. “If you’ll just sit down, we’ll explain it one more time. Don’t let your hatred for me let your son die.”

Back inside the room, Spike gave in, tore open the envelope and pulled out the letter inside. With slouched shoulders and tears on his face, he began to read the final note from the woman who had sacrificed herself to save him.


My Dearest William,

If you’re reading this letter, then that means our plans have been shot to hell and I am gone. I hope your father has taken the time to explain what happened tonight, that you aren’t sitting in a bed thinking that I stabbed you in the back and most importantly, that you can forgive me someday.

I know that going behind your back was wrong, but you would have refused to accept my plan because that’s your nature. You are the Slayer and it’s your duty to protect the innocent and be all high and mighty, and very stubborn. I couldn’t sit by and think that it would be because of your death that the world as we know it remained unharmed.

No matter how much I love you, how much just being with you overt the past couple of weeks made my miserable existence worthwhile. You deserve to have a normal life. You deserve to have sunlight and happiness, a life with picket fences and children and not in the shadows with death, the only life I could give you.

You are my light, my existence, my savior. I love you with all that I have, with all that I am. Please, I hope one day you will be able to forgive me for my deceit. I love you and will always remember you.

With all my heart,
Buffy

TBC...

Later that afternoon, after numerous tests that left Spike feeling like a pin cushion, he was finally allowed to have visitors outside of his one family member. Perched on what he was now referring to as his bed-shaped prison, Spike had just finished grimly informing his friends of what his father had informed him that morning.

“Ok, lemme see if I’ve got it right.” Angel started slowly, his hand held out to tick off the list with his fingers. “Either Willow or one of her minions stole the stuff from Wesley’s apartment because it was found near the alter; your Dad burned the whole place to the ground to cover up what happened and Buffy drank your blood and did a swan dive into the portal to save the world and is now trapped in a hell dimension to be punished for all eternity. That about cover everything?”

“In a nutshell.” Spike replied dryly, “Dad and Wesley figured that it’d be best all around to get rid of any evidence.”

“But what about Faith’s family? Don’t you think they’d want to bury her or something?” “I mean, shouldn’t we have contacted someone?” Fred interjected nervously, tilting her head downwards to avoid the glares from her friends. She felt bad that Faith was left to burn in an abandoned warehouse and not properly buried. Sometimes she hated being the only female present because it seemed like she was the only one that was sympathetic towards other people. Generally, Spike rescued her when she felt like this, knowing she felt awkward in situations such as this. Peering up at him through a thick layer of brunette locks, tears pricked her eyes as she took in the look of utter hatred and anger that radiated from him.

“From what little Buffy told me about Faith, she didn’t have anyone…other than Buffy. Which explains why she was so obsessed and refused to let go, yeah?” Shrugging his shoulders, Spike poked at the unidentifiable meat on his dinner tray before pushing it aside. “Might be a bit coldhearted, but the chit got exactly what she deserved. Hope every bleeding second that she laid on that pentagram was sheer pain for her.”

“I’m with you man.” Gunn announced, he’d been unusually quite throughout the entire conversation not knowing exactly what to say about the whole ordeal, but he shared Spike’s feelings on the outcome. “Hell, if she’d never come along then we’d never been in this mess.”

“Willow would have just found someone else, Charles, don’t you think? She was way more determined than Faith.” Fred argued even though she knew it was useless. The boys had found their scapegoat and were off and running with it. Leaning back in her seat, Fred halfway listened to Angel and Gunn bicker about last night’s events and focused her attention on Spike, who had slumped further down in his bed with a dejected look on his face.

After several minutes, she noticed that Spike’s demeanor had went from one of emotional pain to that of physical pain, making a quick decision she spoke up, “Wow, we’ve gone way past visiting hours, wonder why the nurse hasn’t kicked us out yet? We should probably go before we get in trouble.”

“Yeah, you’re right, Fred.” Angel agreed after catching the pointed look the petite brunette passed his way. Looking back at Spike, he too noticed the Spike’s complexion was paler than usually and briefly wondered how that was possible since the Brit was never famous for spending much time in the sun. Chalking it up to stress, he stood up from his spot on the bed and said, “We’ll come back in the morning, ok?”

Goodbyes were given all around before the trio slipped quietly out the door and ambled down the hallway towards the elevator. Just before stepping inside, Fred realized something. “I forgot my purse! You guys go on ahead, ok?” Jumping off the elevator before her two towering companions could object, Fred took off in gallop towards Spike’s room.

Gently easing the door open, she cautiously poked her head inside before entering, “Spike? I forgot my purse.” Not hearing a response, she figured he’d fallen asleep and quietly slipped into the room totally unprepared for what it held inside. Laying in a ball, the strongest male figure in her life was sobbing his heart out; a sight that she’d never seen before. Sure, his eyes had glistened over on more than one occasion, but this complete emotional breakdown was a shock to Fred’s system. Instantly kicking into mother hen mode, she rushed to the bed and pulled him into her arms.

Nothing was said while Spike cried; there was silence in the room other than the brokenhearted sobs that echoed in the alabaster room and Fred’s heart wrenched at the sound. With a feather light caress, she stroked his disheveled locks and waited for the tears to stop. Noticing movement from the corner of her eye, she looked over and saw that Angel had reappeared, no doubt in search of her. Shaking her head slightly, Fred sent him away and prepared to spend the night taking care of Spike.

A hour and a half later, Spike’s tears finally slowed down and he spoke. “She didn’t even give me the chance to change things…I could have figured out a way to stop it. To do something else! Why…why didn’t she come to me?”

Wiping her own eyes, Fred pushed away the moisture that had seeped out and were clinging to her eyelashes. “I guess because she knew you’d step in, Spike…that you’d take over and end up being the one to die. I’d have done the same thing for someone I loved, risk my life over theirs. That’s just what you do.

“You know, I was wrong about Buffy. I just always saw her as the girl who stole you from me, that ruined my chances. It wasn’t like that at all, was it? She really loved you, Spike. Which is astounding in itself, since she was supposed to be evil and all…I mean, your love changed her.” Sniffling, she paused briefly to swipe her arm across her face again and took a calming breath. “She sacrificed herself to save you, to give you life. She really was kinda great and I never took the chance to get to know her.”

“But how’d she expect me to just live my life knowing that because of me she’s suffering now? Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?” Spike sobbed, slipping further down in Fred’s embrace until his head was resting on her stomach. “I miss her so much, Fred.”

Helplessly, Fred listened to Spike’s whispered sobs as he poured out his heart, knowing that there was nothing more that she could do to ease his pain. Holding him in her arms, she closed her eyes and waited for the next break in his tears.

The sun was creeping in through the blinds when Spike stirred in her arms and roused her out of a restless sleep. Scrubbing her face with her hands, Fred looked down at her friend who was doing the same in attempts to wipe away the tears that now stained his cheeks.
“Good morning.”

“Morning, sweets.” He replied sheepishly, embarrassed that his emotions had bubbled to the surface and spilled over onto Fred. “Um…thanks for last night.”

“Your welcome, but its part of the friendship package; thus I am required to be there in times of need.” Fred replied jokingly, trying to lighten the mood since she was well award of Spike’s discomfort. “How are you feeling?”

“Like a sodding truck ran over my head, actually. Don’t think I’ve cried that since my Mum died.” He admitted, figuring she’d already seen him at his worst so he might as well confess everything. Picking at a piece of imaginary lint on the sheet, he whispered, “When will it get better?”

Instantly saddened by Spike’s question, Fred reached out and pulled him close again. “Soon, I promise. Eventually it won’t hurt so badly.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~


Weeks passed and contrary to Fred’s promise, the pain never faltered. Instead, it festered in his veins, churning and coiling in his stomach like acid until all that remained was a shell of a man fueled by anger and hatred. Withdrawn and sullen, Spike shied away from his friends and family; opting to spend his time in the bottom of a bottle. Every night, he somehow found his way to the seedier side of town in Willy’s, drinking amongst his sworn enemy instead of killing them. He knew that his actions were hurting those that he loved, but he just couldn’t bring himself far enough out of the pit of despair to care about it anymore. At this point, he was just going through the motions of life and numbing the pain that resided in his heart.

Slamming the empty glass down on the bar, he announced with a pronounced slur, “Willy, another one.”

“I…I don’t know…maybe you’ve had enough, ya know…call it a night.” Willy stammered, wringing his hands nervously as Spike glared at him. “Come on, Slayer…you’re making the other customers nervous.”

“Don’t bloody care about them, Willy. I could just kill them all and you wouldn’t have to worry about sodding their feelings.” Spike growled, pushing the glass further down the bar towards the rat-like bar owner. “Or, you could refill my fucking glass. ‘s your choice, Willy.”

“Ok, Slayer...no need to make threats. We’re all friends here, right?” Willy jumped to attention, grabbed the fifth of whiskey and placed it in front of Spike. “Here you go, on the house. We’re good, right?”

“Bugger off.” Spike snarled as he eagerly snatched up the liquor bottle and lifted it to his mouth for a long drink. Wincing slightly as the alcohol burned its way down into his belly, he wiped his hand across his mouth to catch the droplets that lingered on his lips. Taking another chug, he caught the sight of someone settling on the bar stool to his left and turned his head to find what appeared to be a very attractive brunette staring at him expectedly. “What do you want?”

“You looked like you needed someone to talk to, figured I’d offer my services.” She replied with a sultry voice that was perfectly fitting of her curvaceous figure and full lips.

“Yeah, well…you’re wrong. I’m not in need of any services, now sod off.” Cocking an eyebrow at the woman, he turned his attentions back to the bottle and took another swallow as if his life depended on it. When he was done, he noticed she was still there and said, “What are you, daft? I said piss off!”

Softening her tone, she leaned in and said, “I’m just offering a shoulder to lean on, Slayer. Nothing more, I promise. I saw you and thought you might want to talk. You know, we all heard what happened with Buffy.” A few seconds went by and for a brief moment she thought he might kick her to the curb, but finally his shoulders drop and realized he was giving in.

Spike had no idea what came over him, one minute he’s telling her to go away and the next second, he’s overcome with the need to spill his guts to someone he’d never met. Refusing to let the tears in his eyes spill in front of all the demons in the bar, he let his anger rise to the surface and control of his words. After ten minutes of ranting and raving, his final comments were, “I mean, who the sodding hell do the Powers That bloody Be think they are?! I fucking fight the good fight every night…give up my life for a sacred calling and they…they screw me over every bleeding chance they get! ‘s not right, I tell you! Should just quit all together and see what they’d do then.”

“But, you wouldn’t do that, right? It’d go against your nature. Hello?! You’re the chosen one; you might try to live a normal life, but do you really think you could? Seriously.” Pausing for a second, she left that information sink in before asking, “What if things could be different? What if you could make this Willow chick suffer for what the pain she’s caused you or something like that, would you do it? What would you wish for if you were given the chance?” Eagerly anticipating Spike’s answer she waited patiently; mentally preparing herself for all the glorious, gruesome things she could inflict on the vampire.

“S not like it’d bloody well happen, right?” Shrugging his shoulders, Spike tilted the bottle back to drain the last of the amber liquid before pushing away from the bar. Tossing down a crumpled wad of cash on the bar, he turned to the woman and said, “I’d wish that Buffy was alive.” Sighing, he nodded his head in goodbye and stormed out of the bar in a swirl of black leather.

As she watched him disappear from the bar, she wrapped one hand around the jade amulet that dangled between her breasts and whispered two words.

“Wish Granted.”


The End...or atleast the end of this part of the story. Due to the pleading of Sotia and Cordykitten, I have decided to add a second part that will be more along the likings of those readers who crave the more traditional happy ending. Keep an eye out for it! It's not titled, but you'll know it when you see it!