REALITY BITES

CHAPTER 1

When the dying rays of the setting sun had faded from the sky, Spike roused Buffy from her deep slumber at his side. It was often the way with the newly turned that the first few days after rising were spent in utter exhaustion, the fledgling vamp waking only to feed. But it was important that she was up and about. To keep his promise to her, made to keep her quiet and compliant the night before but nonetheless a promise, they had much to do. Spike couldn’t wait to leave Sunnydale behind him but he'd sworn that she could say goodbye to her friends and family. And he always kept his promise to a lady. Despite severe misgivings, not to mention the likelihood of a staking for the pair of them, he had already realised that whatever Buffy wanted, he’d do everything in his power to deliver.

“Hey, love. Rise and shine. Time to be off, yeah? Go see your mum and then we can motor. Don't reckon I’m going to be flavour of the month round here once you flash the fangs and all.”

Buffy stretched languidly, like a cat, arching her back and reaching her arms high above her head. She wriggled her butt on the makeshift mattress and gave a fanged yawn that Spike found utterly enchanting, and kind of arousing. She was so very young; a lot younger than he'd been when he was turned. There was a strange feeling tingling in his gut, spreading, making him shift uncomfortably.

Was that...was it...worry? Concern for another creature, that wasn’t him or Dru? Well, that was just...bloody peculiar. But the longer he spent with his new companion, the more she was getting to him and the less he thought about his sire.

Buffy turned to him, throwing an arm and leg across him and snuggling into his embrace. Spike held her close. Big thoughts could wait; right now he had a pressing engagement with a fledgling, innocent of vampire ways but looking set to be a quick study. He turned over onto his side so his face was near to hers, her amber eyes staring right into his.

“Morning. Or...evening...erm, I'm not sure what I’m supposed to say.” She lisped around her unfamiliar fangs, smiling shyly at...her mate?

“Mornin' pet. Whatever floats your boat is good. You up for a lesson? Can't rightly go around in vamp face all the time. Well, you could, but you don’t want to scare off the lunchables. Not a lot of happy meals stand around chatting to you if you're all fangy and grrr.”

“What? Oh...yes. I hadn't realised. I just thought...well, you look human most of the time. And anyway I already told you, no way I’m eating anybody.”

“Yeah, well you say that now but...never mind. The face thing comes with age and experience, pet. Some vamps are better at it than others right off. Just need to get a hold of yourself and subdue the demon. So...you fancy giving it a go?”

Buffy nodded, her eyes sparkling.

“'kay, love. Now...just concentrate on soothing thoughts, calm, sated. Right! That's it...brilliant! I knew you'd get it. And once you've done it, you can do it again. It's a piece of piss!”

The slayer sat upright, touching her face and teeth with eager fingers. The smile that broke her face could have melted the icecaps it was so bright. Once again Spike felt the unnatural twinge that had bothered him earlier. She was just so happy to be normal again. He silenced the inner demon with a growl, choosing to ignore the unintended snub to the eternal gift she'd received.

“What do I look like? Am I me? Do I still look like me?”

“Gorgeous, pet. But then again, you were beautiful with the ridges too. You'll always be beautiful to me.”

Buffy gasped. His gaze was so intense she couldn’t look away from him. He was all but devouring her with his hungry eyes and she reached out a hand to cup his cheek, sighing happily when he nuzzled his face against her palm and closed his eyes. She felt a rush of imagined warmth flood her now cold body. For the first time since she'd been called as Slayer, she felt like she belonged, as if she'd found somebody who understood her completely and with whom she could just be herself. She'd come close with the Scoobies, but somehow she'd always had to repress a part of herself. The darker part. The part that gloried in the slaying and lusted for blood, lived for the hunt. She couldn't tell her friends that, it would only result in nervous stammers from Willow and sneers from Xander. She was the Chosen One. A slayer alone. How could they ever understand? Better they thought it was just a job to her, that she always staked and moved on.

But with Spike she felt liberated. He seemed to like all of her, even the bits she usually hid, sometimes from herself as well as from everybody else. Those were the bits he seemed to like most of all...

Spike turned his head slightly, parting his lips and sucking Buffy's index finger inside his mouth, catching it between his teeth and biting down lightly. Buffy's mouth opened on a gasp as his tongue wrapped the digit and he worried on it, nibbling and sucking alternately. It had a profound effect on her. Suddenly, she had an overwhelming urge to tear into his flesh, taste blood – but more than that, she wanted to feel him biting her, sinking his teeth into her neck and hurting her. She needed him to touch her.

Greedy little hands scrabbled at his shirt to yank it over his head, and Spike did nothing to hinder her efforts. He was curious to see just how much the Slayer would forget her conditioning and go with her instincts. He figured she was still an innocent in the ways of men and women, and he was surprised at how excited he was to be the one to introduce her to fleshly pleasures. He was going to make it so good for her.

Spike's shirt was off now. Buffy's eyes focused on the marble perfection of his chest, her fingers tracing the sculpted planes with a tentative touch. She was mesmerised by the sheer maleness of him. Where she was soft, he was hard and she couldn't help but move her hands lower, pausing when she reached the waistband of his jeans and darting a shy glance up at him. Again she gasped; his eyes were blazing with need and fixed on her. Buffy tugged slightly on his jeans and the button fly popped open, the sound drawing her eyes down finally. She bit down on her bottom lip, suddenly hesitant despite the fact that she'd initiated the intimacy. She was aware that this line, once crossed, was final.

She hurtled across it.

Spike rolled his eyes as her small hand encircled his throbbing cock and stayed still. He waited for her to get busy, but she was just gripping him, chewing on her lip, her eyes huge as she stared at her hand and the dark, wiry curls that brushed her fingers.

What the hell was she supposed to do? Her teen magazines hadn't covered this particular moment – kissing, yeah, even hints of dark secrets about second and third base, but graphic details? No way. Willow was her best girlfriend and she wasn't exactly hot to trot with boys, and Xander would have just imploded if she'd even hinted at anything remotely sexual. And Angel and smoochies? Not even going there...and she never had. Not more than a couple of making-out sessions, anyway.

She jumped as Spike's hand closed over hers, slowly moving her fist along his length, increasing speed with every stroke. He was finding it incredibly erotic that she didn't even know how to get him off, struggling not to buck in her hand and shoot his load. As he was about to lose the battle he ripped her fingers away from him, rolling her onto her back and crushing her lips in a bruising kiss.

Buffy pushed him off after a minute or two, her eyes uncertain. “Did I...did I do it wrong?”

“Oh, baby – hell no. All kinds of right, just don't want our first time to be a quick hand job in a dirty crypt. Let Spike take care of you, 'kay?”

Her answering smile melted his long dead heart to mush. Damn! How the hell did she do that?

There wasn’t a lot he could do about the dirty crypt, but he made sure she was laid out on his duster, her head on the makeshift pillow of his red button-down shirt. Gently, he tugged at her top until he exposed her still golden midriff. It would pale over time without sunlight bathing her silky smooth flesh, but right now it was tanned and taut and begging for his lips. He lowered his head and kissed along her abdomen, her muscles clenching where he trailed his cool lips. While she was distracted and writhing beneath him at the unaccustomed sensations awakening in her, he slid his hand beneath her top and her bra and cupped a pert breast, rolling the hardening nipple between his fingers. Buffy gulped as he pinched hard, immediately soothing the sting with a caress.

She hissed as the kisses he was laying on her stomach became nips and bites, his fingers digging painfully into the pliant flesh of her breast even as his other hand worked the fastenings of her jeans free. Roughly, he dragged down the zipper, shoving his hands down the front of her panties and pressing two fingers along her slit.

“You like that, baby? You're getting all wet for me, all wet and eager. Do you want me?”

Buffy was once more looking at him through golden eyes, her still tentative control over her demon side slipping as she succumbed to unfamiliar yearnings and emotions. Wherever he was touching her was on fire, belying the coolness of his skin. The scrape of his teeth along the bones of her hips had her arching up towards him, seeking...something, aching for something that she couldn't put into words.

“Yes...” she managed, licking her lips and fangs nervously. She did want him. Every instinct she had screamed that he belonged to her and she to him, and she wanted him to be her everything.

“That's my girl, my Buffy. Now lift up, love. Want to look at you.”

Buffy obeyed, helping him to get rid of her jeans by toeing off her boots and shifting her hips. She'd always thought she'd be shy the first time she was naked with a man, but she found that although she was feeling many things, shy was not one of them. She was excited, curious, eager to learn, desperate to touch him.

Hungry.

“Beautiful, pet. So soft and kissable. In fact...”

Spike wriggled down her body, his lips touching every inch of her flesh, making her giggle and writhe as he hit her ticklish spots. Spike laughed too, caught up in her pleasure and feeling strangely alive. The scent of her skin was intoxicating and tasted like heaven, his tongue sweeping across the pliant flesh in arcing strokes. Finally, he was at her feet, laving each toe on her left and then right foot, sucking at her instep and ignoring her attempts to wriggle away from him with her frenzied laughter echoing in his ears. He nipped her to get her attention, raising a sardonic eyebrow as she mouthed ‘sorry’ and mimed zipping her lips.

“Now where was I?” His lips whispered across the soft skin of her inner thigh, his tongue sweeping out occasionally to languorously drag across her flesh. He murmured against her skin, his words stirring her damp curls and Buffy hissed as she instinctively arched towards him, seeking some friction to quench her need for him.

Spike considered drawing things out longer...but he just couldn’t. If he wasn’t hilt deep in her tight little pussy soon, he was going to combust. He licked along her slit roughly, delighting in her guttural groan of pleasure, crawling up her body so that he rested between her open thighs, his cock nuzzling at her folds. He was dizzy with her scent, raw from the scratches that marked his arms and his back, and fighting a losing battle with the demon that wanted to mark her and make her his forever.

Hissing at the tightness with which she sheathed his cock, he pushed home, brutal and hard in his hunger for her. Buffy clawed at his back, her demon visage now to the fore as she scented blood drawn by her nails and also coating his cock and her thighs where he’d taken her virginity. She ached – with need, with the pain of the rough penetration – and entirely for him.

Pure instinct took over, Buffy bucking up at him, clawing and scratching. The pain of their joining gave way to ripples of pleasure, building rapidly to a crescendo. The duster had shifted beneath them, Buffy’s bare back now stinging from the grit and dirt on the mausoleum floor, but it merely heightened the sensory delights that Spike was showing her. With a throaty growl, her legs clamped bruisingly around his hips, Buffy sank her fangs into the flesh of his shoulder. Spike snarled, eyes flashing golden fury as his demon baulked at the fledgling taking blood without permission. His thrusts became furious and hard, the skin on Buffy’s back grazed bloody from the rough floor she was being fucked on.

Because that was what it was, a raw, primal, animal coupling between two dark creatures. The fact that there was a cornucopia of emotions swirling in the mix too just made it all the more memorable.

Roaring his completion, Spike grabbed Buffy’s hair and dragged her fangs out of his skin, ripping his shoulder and spattering her bare flesh with a spray of crimson blood. It was enough to send her hurtling over the edge to a violent orgasm that shook her bones and sinews. She’d never experienced any feeling like it, crying out and bloodying her own lip with her unfamiliar teeth as she moaned and gnawed, needing to taste the coppery liquid on her tongue.

Spike rolled off her, panting at her side as he tried to regain his composure. Extreme emotions had him reverting to human reflexes – breathing, panting, swallowing hard. Buffy had him feeling so human, he loathed himself. He had to get out of here, slaughter something and bathe in its blood, remind the human body he inhabited that the demon was in charge. Remind Buffy that she was there for his pleasure and his pain.

Buffy turned onto her side, lying on an outstretched arm and gazing at her vampire lover. He was agitated, his legs moving restlessly. She knew how he felt; despite the lack of heartbeat and circulation, she’d never felt more alive. She was hungry.

Hesitantly, Buffy reached out to run her fingers down Spike’s sculpted chest, eyes drifting shut as his muscles contracted beneath her touch. He growled, wanting her to continue to touch him but hating her for being able to affect him so much. It had never been this way with Dru. Never. No matter how much she cut him and bit him and made him moan with pleasure, he’d never been totally lost in her. Not like he was lost in Buffy, enchanted by her… What? What the fuck had she done to him?

In a panic, Spike leapt up, snatched up his clothes and began dragging them on. He snapped the belt on his jeans closed angrily, rasping the leather against his fingers, not looking at Buffy where she lay on the ground, eyes huge as she watched him.

“Put your clothes on. We need to feed.” Spike snarled the words, turning his back on his adopted childe. She was driving him crazy without even trying.

Buffy managed to revert to her human face and grubbed about for her things, dressing in silence and trying to hide the tears that tracked down her cheeks. Somehow she’d managed to seriously piss Spike off. She didn’t know what she’d done and didn’t know how to fix it. But she was going to try. She knew that he was all she had now, knowing full well that her family and friends wouldn’t be able to cope with vampire Buffy.

And besides...she couldn’t bear the thought of existing without him. That was simply not an option.

“Come on.” Spike grabbed her hand and dragged her after him out of the crypt and into the night.

* * * * *

Giles, Xander and Willow walked slowly through the cemetery, drawn there at dusk by unspoken agreement. It was habit, fostered by nights of patrolling with Buffy; it was where she would usually be. None of them voiced the thoughts running through their heads: she might still be there.

Eventually, Willow stopped worrying her bottom lip and plucked up the courage to actually say it out loud.

“Giles...what if...if...well, we’re in the cemetery at night and sometimes...well, most of the time because – hello Hellmouth!! There’s always a va...a vampire. What if...if it’s...”

Giles stopped, turned to look at the anxious faces of Buffy’s closest friends. They were expecting him to provide answers, solutions. Get things back on track. It was what he did. But not this time. The glasses came off, and he wearily rubbed his forehead, his eyes closed while he swallowed down the guilt and the sorrow of failing his slayer.

“I really don’t know, Willow.” Giles’ voice was low, defeated. “Although, I doubt she’d be here now. She’s probably long gone, away from here to ... to hunt on fresh ground. She’ll know that a new Slayer will be called; she must know that I would have to...” His words petered off, barely a whisper.

“But what if...” Giles cut Xander’s insistent questioning short.

“Xander, you know exactly what I have to do, what we have to do. Asking pointless questions is not going to change the outcome. It’s very tiresome, and it’s painful and I...I can’t discuss it. All right? We’ll take a turn around the grounds, pay our respects if you like, then we’ll just have to do the best we can. Until the Council contact me, I don’t know how long I’ll be here for and I’ll...”

Willow panicked, grabbing hold of Giles’ arm and beseeching him. “You mean...you’re going to leave us?”

Giles looked at Willow’s tear-filled eyes, Xander’s suspiciously bright too, and he knew, right then, that he wouldn’t be leaving them, no matter what the Council ordered. While they still needed him, here is where he would stay. He pulled Willow into a hug, smiling at Xander reassuringly as he spoke. “No. I won’t leave you. But I do expect some communication from the Council. The fact that Buffy is...has...that she’s gone means a new Slayer will be called. If she’s not assigned to me, I’ll be expected to return to England. I’ll have to ask for leave of absence or something, but I’ll take care of it.”

Willow hugged Giles back, Xander punching him lightly on the arm and muttering some inanity followed by a ‘G-man’ comment that merited him a reassuringly steely glare. They walked on, passing the Alpert mausoleum and heading into the darkest part of the cemetery, the regular hunting spot for vampires and demons. A shrill scream had the three of them reaching for stakes and moving quickly towards the source of the noise. They reached the site of the mayhem to find a blur of movement as two figures fought, snarling and biting. Just off to the side, sobbing loudly and shaking with fear, a young girl cowered, her neck smeared with blood. Xander rushed to her aid, dragged her to her feet and shoved her behind him as Giles and Willow looked at each other and back to the tussling duo. Were they both vampires? Were they fighting over a meal? Or, was there somebody trying to stop a slaughter?

A flash of long, blonde hair and a familiar jacket set Willow’s heart racing.

“Giles?”

The experienced Watcher swallowed hard; he’d already had the worst moment of his life, so he thought, but he had the uneasy feeling that it was about to be topped by having to stake the young girl he’d come to think of as more than a responsibility. He was frozen on the spot, stake raised, his mind racing as he tried to decide the best course of action.

It was settled a moment later when Xander let go of the damsel in distress and rushed towards the dark warriors duking it out. “Buffy! Buffy, is that you?”

The shorter fighter faltered, whipping round, her amber eyes sweeping over the three familiar figures rooted to the spot.

“Xander...?”

Her friend rushed her, grabbing her in a bear hug, his face buried in her neck and thereby bringing his warm, pulsing flesh tantalisingly near to her suddenly aching fangs. She was about to dip her head, obeying her animal instincts, when Giles thrust a crucifix in front of her face; a stake gripped in his other hand. Willow pulled Xander out of Buffy’s arms, Buffy backing away, sickened by what she’d almost done, until she found herself prevented from moving further by Spike’s solid form. A possessive growl signalled his presence to her and to her friends, the arm he threw around her middle to hold her to him – hard – leaving no doubt that whatever she may have been before, she was his now.

A drawling, English voice laden with sarcasm broke the awkward silence, punctuated as it was only by the still sobbing girl huddled against a tombstone, half hidden by bushes. “Well, well. Looks like we’ve got visitors, love, and me not in my best bib and tucker. You gonna introduce me?”

TBC....

DEMON DREAMS 2
CHAPTER TWO

A drawling, English voice laden with sarcasm broke the awkward silence, punctuated as it was only by the still sobbing girl huddled against a tombstone. “Well, well. Looks like we’ve got visitors, love, and me not in my best bib and tucker. You gonna introduce me?”

++++++

Buffy leaned back against her de facto sire, taking comfort from the steely hardness of his chest against her back and the painful grip of his fingers digging into her stomach. She’d dreaded this moment since clawing her way out of the grave, and despite planning to take her leave of her friends, her Watcher, she was torn. It was all too clear that she couldn’t trust herself around them anymore, not after nearly sinking her fangs into Xander’s neck. It would appear that the vampire instinct to feed was stronger than she’d imagined.

But she was the Slayer. It wasn’t going to beat her.

If only their hearts wouldn’t thud so loudly…

Spike’s warning growl jolted her back from her musings. Willow had started to move towards them, and Buffy threw out her hands to stop Willow coming any closer. Buffy sagged further back against her sire at the sight of Willow’s tearstained face and red eyes. All because of her.

Spike’s cool lips settled against Buffy’s ear, placing a soft kiss on the lobe as he murmured that it would be all right, that he was there. Buffy placed her own small hand over his where it rested on her waist, giving it a little squeeze in thanks and to acknowledge his words. She would get through this with Spike’s help.

Suddenly, leaving Sunnydale seemed the right thing to do.

Giles’ hard, unrelenting voice echoed in the dark cemetery. “Willow. Behind me, now. You too, Xander.” He brandished the crucifix, his grip on the dark wood turning his knuckles white. Buffy could hear his racing heartbeat, smell his fear and his anxiety. She got a thrill to think that it was she who inspired that fear, although that quickly subsided as the remnants of the Buffy she’d been before last night curled up in misery, hurt by his rejection.

Spike sensed her emotional distress and was getting geared up for bloody slaughter, releasing Buffy’s waist and crouching, ready to pounce. It was gratifying to see the humans take an involuntary but perfectly synchronised step backwards, away from danger. It was only Buffy’s fingers digging into his wrist that stopped him from enjoying a three-course meal there and then.

Exasperated, Spike turned towards his protégé. “What now, love? You see what they’re doing. You think it’s gonna be all hugs and kisses as they wave you off with a tearful goodbye? They’re here to kill you. Now let’s see an end to it and be on our way.”

Willow edged closer to Xander, the pair of them now tight up against Giles’ back. Buffy was still in game face, and the vampire she was with was extremely scary with sharp, sharp teeth. If he thought they were about to kill Buffy, you could bet your life that he was going to get to them first.

“Excuse me?”

A quavering voice emanated from the curled up form in the bushes where Xander had left the maiden in distress. She’d been forgotten in the standoff, but had apparently now stopped sobbing and started vocalising. Xander shrugged as Giles turned a disbelieving glare on him.

“You just left her there? In the bushes?”

“Giles, you told me to get behind you! You didn’t say to bring a friend. And she’s okay…you’re alright, aren’t you?” The last was shouted over Giles shoulder in the general direction of the voice.

“I’ve been better…but yeah. Can I go now?”

Spike lunged towards the girl, but not quickly enough to avoid Buffy sweeping her leg out to tumble him to the ground, whereupon she sat astride his prone form and pinned his arms to the floor. He began to buck, snarling and snapping his jaws together, but Buffy held firm.

“Stop it, Spike! Listen to me please – STOP IT!”

Giles and his cowering companions looked on in horror as the growling, spitting demon beneath Buffy raised himself to a sitting position, his ridged forehead inches from hers, his eyes dark amber and full of lethal intent.

“Make me,” he spat out with a smirk that shouldn’t have been possible given the fangs overhanging his full lips.

Willow gasped as Buffy let go of the monster’s arms and grabbed him to her, devouring his mouth in an x-rated kiss that raised the ambient temperature of the cemetery a good few degrees. It was like watching a train wreck – they just couldn’t tear their eyes away. Giles was muttering a litany of ‘dear lords’ and Xander’s mouth opened and closed like a landed cod. Unnoticed, the girl formerly known as ‘entrée’ made good her escape.

The awkward shuffling of three pairs of feet finally reminded Buffy that they had an audience, although it took a huge stamping down of her newly acquired demon, and she reluctantly left off kissing Spike’s now bloodied lips, licking the crimson drops into her eager mouth and caressing his cheek.

“Please…” She only had to speak just one word and Spike knew he was beaten. Once again he wondered what enchantment this tiny blonde had worked on him to have him padding after her like a house-trained puppy, all thoughts of his former priorities wiped from his mind. He nodded, his features melting back to human, earnest blue eyes meeting her golden ones. He tilted his head, raising a hand to tap his smooth brow, encouraging her to change too. He figured her friends would deal better if she still looked like the Buffy they knew.

Buffy’s fingers flew to her own forehead, puzzled – until she remembered; she was a vampire. Well, duh!! How come she kept forgetting?

She concentrated, feeling her bones shift as her face returned to the familiar one she saw in the mirror…used to see in the mirror…This was so very hard. Swallowing down the tears that threatened to spill over her now smooth cheeks, Buffy took a deep, if useless, breath and got to her feet, dragging Spike after her. She didn’t let go of his hand as she turned to face her friends. No point in telling them a half tale, and as Spike was now the focus of her existence; she guessed she really should make some introductions.

“Hey, guys. Sorry I’ve been MIA...kinda got into something. Well, I died actually. Guess I’ve got a rebound clause though because – here I am!”

The forced perkiness fell flat, Giles looking down to the ground and adjusting his glasses, Willow’s eyes big and round as she gawked at her friend and the vampire holding her hand. Xander was still doing the mouth flapping routine, and didn’t seem likely to come back to sanity any time soon.

Buffy squeezed Spike’s hand for reassurance, and he tugged her closer to his side. Nobody spoke and it was beginning to get awkward.

“Guys – don’t you have anything to say?”

Xander finally snapped his jaws shut, immediately opening them again to babble at Buffy. “Buff! You’re…you…but not…and with the…get thee behind me!”

Buffy was puzzled by Xander’s ad hoc hand gesture. His index fingers were crossed before his face, his arms held out rigid from his body. As Buffy and Spike tilted their heads in perfect synchronisation, Xander flailed his arms about, shook his hands and shoved them in front of her face again.

Genuinely bemused, Buffy grabbed one of Xander’s hands in her own, shaking it vigorously. Xander leaped backwards in panic, trying to snatch his hands out of the danger zone and staring at his friend, his bravado having gotten up and gone.

“You got cramp?” Buffy asked, not really noticing the way that Xander recoiled from her.

Giles’ voice faltered as he did what he had to do. “Let go of him, vampire.”

“Huh?” It took Buffy a second or two to realise that her watcher was talking to her. She was shaken by the cold, detached tone he was using – like he was speaking to a killer, a demon.

He was. He was speaking to her.

“Giles, I…” Buffy took a few steps away from Xander and towards Giles and Willow, unsure what to say. Giles tightened his grip on the stake in his left hand, the point sharp and aimed right at Buffy’s heart.

It was then that Spike stepped in front of her, a warning growl rumbling as he faced the man who had Buffy’s emotions in such turmoil. He’d had enough playing nice, but for Buffy’s sake he’d give her friends one final chance before he let the demon loose, although he was powerless to stop his features changing back to ridged again.

“Listen you git, she’s not come here to hurt you losers. She’s come to say goodbye - not that you deserve it. If it was up to me I’d tear the throats out of the lot of you, but Buffy’s what’s important. So…play nice and let my girl say her piece, or I’ll forget I was brought up a gentleman.”

There was a standoff between the two Brits, the taller dark haired – and seemingly older – man staring icily at the blond, unfazed by the fangs and the forehead that filled his vision. Except for the racing heartbeat and stench of fear that had Buffy’s nostrils flaring in appreciation, Giles seemed completely at ease.

Buffy shook her head to clear it; her mouth was watering, her vision sharp in the dim light, eyes focused on the rapidly beating pulse at her Watcher’s throat. Hunger raced through her body, her stomach giving a growl that broke the male posturing as it echoed off the sepulchral stones that surrounded them.

“Oops…pardon me! I’m kinda peckish, I guess…” Buffy lisped around the fangs that had elongated at the enticing scent. She shot her hand up to cover her mouth as Willow whimpered and clung to Xander’s arm, her face a mask of horror. “No, Willow – I didn’t mean…Spike?”

Spike took two long strides to her side, wrapping his arms around her and murmuring softly into her hair. Her plaintive mewl had cut him to the bone, his only thought to comfort her as she hurt. He guessed that she hadn’t reckoned on her friends seeing her as an evil killer. She was trembling in his embrace, and he was a gnat’s dick away from just offing the lot of them and whisking her off to her new life.

Until he caught sight of her huge, hazel eyes, the plea unspoken but strident nonetheless. She was trying so hard for them, too hard, battling down the demon to at least look like their friend, despite the effort he knew it cost her. Spike’s thumbs caressed her cheeks, wiping away the tears that had started to pool there, losing his own ridges and nodding slightly, a tender smile on his face.

Willow was now beyond puzzled; she’d watched the interplay between her best friend…former best friend…and the monster at her side, and none of it screamed ‘vampire’ at her. The way he’d looked at Buffy, the tenderness with which he’d embraced her – what happened to vampires being evil, undead things who wanted nothing more than to rip out your throat and drink from your brainstem? Did he have a soul? Was he like Angel?

Xander shifted uncomfortably as Buffy rested her forehead on Spike’s and gifted him with a soft kiss. He couldn’t help the jealousy that flared, hating himself for envying a disgusting vampire, and cringing as he admitted that even like this, he still wanted Buffy.

Giles snapped out of his self-induced stupor and cleared his throat. This would go on all night unless he did something about it. And there was only one thing that he could do. Wasn’t there?

Buffy turned once more to face her Watcher, waiting for him to speak, trying to ignore the seething vampire at her side. She was forcing herself to appear calm, but the urge to rend flesh and get rid of the threat the three posed was almost overwhelming. Willow and Xander looked at her almost innocently, but Giles – he knew. He knew exactly what she was now, and what he had to do.

It was up to her to convince him otherwise, explain that she would fight her new nature and have Spike do the same, leave Sunnydale. She couldn’t promise to carry on the battle against evil because simply fighting herself would be hard enough, but she could promise to try.

“Ahm…Buffy. And…I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

Spike tilted his head, scratched lazily at his chest with his free hand. “Didn’t throw it, mate. But, since you ask – it’s Spike.”

Xander squealed as Giles took a step backwards, right onto his sneaker-encased foot, Xander similarly jumping and treading all over Willow’s delicate pink shoes. In the ensuing scuffle to right themselves, the crucifix flew out of Giles’ hand and he had to scrabble around among the tombstones before finding it and awkwardly resuming his defensive stance.

Spike’s rumbling chuckle focused attention again. He was obviously amused. “Heard of me, then, Watcher? It’s all true, and then some. Wanna demo? Toss me one of your spares and I’ll flash the fangs. Oof!” He frowned as Buffy elbowed him in his side, rolling his eyes but shrugging to acknowledge her request to play nice.

“Giles? Do you know Spike?” Buffy’s voice was small, a trifle uncertain. Giles’ reaction had been a little vigorous, and she was curious to find out exactly what had made him freak out so much. Looked like her new beau was a celebrity, of sorts. It was scary, but kind of cool. Like going out with the bad boy at school.

“Your new…friend … is quite infamous, Buffy. Spike, otherwise known as William the Bloody, sired by Drusilla who in turn was sired by Angel and…”

“Angel!” Buffy whipped her head round to stare at Spike who stared back at her, puzzled by her screech of his grandsire’s name. “I thought you mentioned him before, but with everything…you know Angel?”

Spike nodded, holding Buffy’s gaze. “Yeah, love, I do. Question is how do you know him?”

“I…we…we were…we’re friends.” Spike snarled, vampire again, eyes flaring golden with jealousy. Buffy’s few words had inflamed him, and he had to know exactly how friendly his mate and his erstwhile mentor had been.

Willow, Xander and Giles stood and stared, the angst palpable between the two vampires. It was totally compelling. Like a reality TV show that you just couldn’t stop watching no matter how dreadful the subject matter. Suddenly, Willow gasped, remembering what they’d all forgotten since the horrific happenings of the night before – Angel didn’t know about Buffy.

But he wasn’t usually too far away from her side…

TBC….

REALITY BITES
CHAPTER 3

PREVIOUSLY : Willow, Xander and Giles stood and stared, the angst palpable between the two vampires. It was very compelling. Like a reality TV show that you just couldn’t stop watching no matter how dreadful the subject matter. Suddenly, Willow gasped, remembering what they’d all forgotten since the horrific happenings of the night before – Angel didn’t know about Buffy.

But he wasn’t usually too far away from her side…

+ + + + + +

“Buffy…” Spike growled her name, and she found herself unaccountably fearful, feeling guilty for imagined sins. What could she say? Angel was…Angel. She didn’t really know what he meant to her, so how could she explain her relationship with him to Spike? Did she even have a relationship? She could hardly describe her swoony crush, their ambiguous friendship and an ill-fated kiss followed by mutual death threats as a relationship, but she did feel something for the brooding vampire. Or maybe that should be, she had felt something…as in before.

Spike was still waiting for an answer, and she supposed she owed him one. “Well, there’s this thing…with Angel.”

“Thing?”

Spike’s voice was dripping menace and so low that it was almost inaudible. Buffy licked her dry lips and continued. “He’s been helping me… like a friend. A helpful friend …kinda with benefits. Maybe. But not so much.”

Willow sniggered, earning her a glare from two pairs of vampiric eyes that had her blushing and mouthing ‘sorry’. Xander was mumbling under his breath. “Benefits? What benefits?”

“NO BENEFITS! Nope – not a one! I didn’t mean…it was a slip of the tongue,” Buffy squeaked, her enhanced hearing picking up Xander’s words easily. Spike raised a dark eyebrow and blinked slowly. Buffy hurried on, garbling her words. “I mean, it could’ve been …but no, nothing really -- I mean, he’s a vampire…”

Willow, Xander and Giles were zipping their heads back and forth between the two vampires arguing in the middle of the cemetery; throw in some popcorn and this was better than movie night. Buffy dipped her lashes, peeping at Spike coquettishly and attempting a pout around her fangs. He huffed and crossed his arms. “Spiiiike…you’re making me all muddled…vampires are hot…well…cold, but you know, sexy…not that Angel is… oh bloody hell!”

Buffy stamped her foot, her fists waving about in frustration. Spike’s loud guffaw of laughter rent the air. “Oh, pet. Did I tell you how adorable you are, trying to copy my lingo? C’mere.”

Once again, Buffy’s friends and Watcher found the ground incredibly fascinating as the movie night quickly degenerated into XXX-rated fare. Xander scuffed the ground with the toe of his boot, eyes screwed tight shut, and whistling to drown out the smacking of lips; Willow peeped through her fingers, fascinated despite herself and beginning to feel more than a little warm and flustered as she watched Spike thrust his hand down the front of Buffy’s jeans; Giles removed his glasses, hampered by the stake and crucifix he was juggling in one hand, wiping them furiously then replacing them and pushing them up on the bridge of his nose.

So, the crashing arrival of a leather-clad vampire, fangs bared and eyes flashing golden murder took them all by surprise. Spike and Buffy were ripped apart, both of them landing hard and jumping straight up, snarling and feral, seeking out their attacker. Willow recognised him first, although there was nothing gentle and brooding about the creature crouched and growling not three feet from her. It was his jacket she recognised, and his sticky-up hair. Angel.

Oh boy -- Buffy was in trouble now…

Angel spoke in guttural tones, commanding attention and brooking no disobedience. “Insolent get. Touch her again and I’ll …”

“Excuse me? You’ll do what, Peaches? Think I’m scared of you, ya big poofter? You want a piece of me, you come take it.” Spike bounced on the balls of his feet, beckoning Angel towards him and grinning widely, winking at Buffy and blowing her a kiss. Angel lunged towards him, but was stopped by Buffy stepping between them and hitting Angel hard in the chest with her outstretched hands.

“No! Angel, wait!”

It took the dark haired vampire a second or two to rein in his bloodlust and focus on the petite figure in front of him. As he noted the ridges, her golden eyes, he took a step backwards, faltering. No…this couldn’t be right…

“Buffy…? No, please…please…” He was shaken to his core. It hadn’t registered that she was a vampire when he first scented her presence, blinded with rage as he was when he recognised Spike’s scent too. Angel felt cold tears streaking his face as his emotions took control of him. Buffy was dead. The girl he’d sworn to protect and help on her Slayer’s path was gone, and left behind was this shell of evil. His grandchilde would not survive the night for daring to desecrate the purity of her innocent flesh with his foul fangs.

Buffy patted at him, trying to lock eyes with him and make him understand. He must be shocked, obviously, but he’d be happy for her once he knew that everything was going to be okay, wouldn’t he? Once he realised that Spike was going to look after her? After all, they seemed to know each other quite well. And maybe being a vampire was kinda like being in a fraternity or the Shriners or something.

“Angel? I know you’re upset, but I’m fine, really. Spike’s…”

“Spike’s a vicious killer, Buffy. Get out of the way and let me deal with him.”

“NO! He’s not a …well, yeah he is a killer, obviously, but so are you and…and so am I, now. Would you just listen to me? Please.”

Angel couldn’t resist Buffy’s plea. “Okay, but I swear, Buffy, he’s going to pay for what he’s done to you. I’ve let him live too long as it is, should have put him down years ago.”

Buffy stepped back a little, looking between the two vampires glaring pure hatred at each other. “But Spike didn’t do this to me, it was just my nightmare made real. He was there to help me out of the grave, that’s all. I was scared and confused and he took good care of me last night. I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t come along.”

Spike moved closer to Buffy, grabbing her hand and smirking as Angel glowered. “That’s right, took care of my girl.”

Angel took a step towards the two, anger twisting his face. “She’s not your girl, Spike. She’s mine, so take your hands off her.”

“Yeah, right. Can see she’s your girl by the way she’s all over you. Take a sniff you pillock – she’s mine.” Spike pulled Buffy back against him possessively, the smirk disappearing into puzzlement as she wriggled herself out of his grasp and pushed him away.

“Enough! I’m not some chew toy to be fought over. I can make my own mind up – and anyway, I’m my own girl!”

Spike crossed his arms and the smirk was back in place, eclipsing Angel’s gloating smile narrowly. Each of them obviously thought he’d be the one Buffy threw herself at. Buffy looked from one to the other and fought hard to stifle a grin. It was every teen girl’s dream – two hotties willing to duke it out for her. Thing was – who did she want to win?

Angel had stalked into her life and wormed his way into her affections, then delivered the killing blow that he was a vampire just as she was falling for him. And now, she was a vampire and they could be together and… wasn’t that what she’d dreamed about? She should be ecstatically happy, jumping on him the second he arrived. In fact, no, she should have gone straight to him last night for help. Shouldn’t she? So why didn’t she? Why did she choose to rely on a complete stranger to care for her? And why did she feel closer to Spike than she ever had to Angel after only one night? What should she do? Whose girl was she, really?

Too many questions, all hitting her brain at superhuman speed. But it only took her a second to decide, and less than a second to walk up to the victor and kiss him full on the lips, indelibly marking him as hers. She felt sorry for the loser but she had to go with her heart, and it seemed that only one man had that.

Spike.

Angel turned to the group watching the proceedings on the edge, imploring Buffy’s friends to help him. “Giles? Willow – you can’t let this happen! Talk to her. She’s not in her right mind, he’s done something to her.” He was heartened by Xander’s vigorous nodding of the head.

Giles rolled his eyes, despairing at the ridiculous situation he found himself in yet again with these children. Would they ever grow up and be able to fend for themselves? And Angel – had he learned nothing in all the years he’d existed? “I think you’ll find, Angel, that the one thing Buffy has always been sure of is her own mind. She’s very definite about that.”

“Well, I think that just proves that she’s clearly crazy,” Angel said gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb at Buffy and Spike, who were still entwined, noisily.

“I’ll second that…and ewwww, is that even legal in public?” Xander squeaked as once again Buffy and Spike forgot about, or didn’t care about, their audience and became rather adventurous in the making out department. It was freaking him out.

It became apparent when a number of minutes had passed that Buffy had realised that being a vampire had its advantages. When indulging in a marathon making out session, the not needing to breathe was turning out to be a particular winner. They could go on all night…

Angel had had enough. He didn’t care what Buffy thought she was doing, it was his responsibility to take care of her, even more so now that she was a vampire and would need lessons in the art of vampire survival. Spike was an idiot, Angel had always thought so, probably picked it up from feeding off Dru when he was turned. He couldn’t look after himself, never mind a newly turned fledgling. And anyway, he had no right to even try. Buffy belonged to him, not to the idiot upstart who’d meddled too often in his elder’s affairs.

Angel grabbed Buffy’s arm and wrenched her out of Spike’s grasp. “Buffy, come on – that’s enough of that. I’m taking you home.” He was completely unprepared for the twin synchronised punches that connected with his chin and sent him hurtling backwards as far as the Alpert mausoleum. He came round when a less than gentle kick to the head bounced his skull against the stone wall; automatically his hand went to his hair to check that it hadn’t been messed up, earning him a throaty chuckle from the bestower of his headache. “Told you he was a wuss”, Spike drawled.

As Angel lay on the ground, first one, then two, and then finally five heads loomed over him, silhouetted against the moonlit sky. Buffy knelt down by his side, ignoring Spike’s warning growl to reach across and take Angel’s hand. She’d made her choice, but that didn’t mean she wanted to leave Angel lying in the dirt. Tugging him to his feet, she brushed herself off and concentrated to regain her human visage. She spoke softly, ignoring the fact that Spike was all but standing in her shoes he was that close.

“Sorry about that, but I can’t go home, Angel. We both know that. How can I, like this? My mom knows nothing about vampires – what am I supposed to do? Flash the fangs and demand some blood pudding? I have to leave. I want to…”

“Doesn’t have to be with him. I’ll take you places, Buffy; show you how to survive without killing. I’ll teach you everything you need to know. I thought…I thought maybe we had something.”

Spike snarled, the three humans at his side huddling closer together and moving away from the suddenly very, very scary vampire.

Softly, Buffy spoke, laying her hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry, Angel. I don’t just want to survive. I want to live. And I’ve never felt more alive than I do when I’m with Spike. Nuts, I know – I’ve only just met him and hey! Slightly less than alive, here, but it’s true. I’m sorry, I really am. But you have to let me go.”

Spike’s voice rumbled at Buffy’s back. “Yeah, Pops. You lost, I won – get used to it. Thought you would be by now with all the arse kicking I’ve given you. Now go bother a rat or whatever it is you eat these days. We’ve gotta go say bye to the mother-in-law and hit the docks before daylight.”

Angel swallowed the half-formed retort as he realised the futility; Buffy was leaning back against Spike, one hand resting on the front of his thigh, her lips beginning to curve into a smile as Spike leaned down and whispered in her ear. The flash of vitality in her eyes couldn’t be mistaken; Angel had never seen her like that before. She was right; he had to let her go.

“Go.” Angel’s gruff voice signalled his emotional distress. He raised his head and met Spike’s eyes, holding them with a fierce glare as he delivered his warning. “But if I find out that she’s unhappy or you’ve drawn her down into the darkness…I will hunt you down and stake you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Heard it all before, mate. I can look after my girl, proved it, haven’t I, with Dru? Gonna take real good care of her and if you think for one second that anything you can do to me will have me quaking in my Docs, you don’t know me at all. Now piss off. Oww!” Buffy dug Spike in the ribs, again.

As the vampire trio continued to glare and try to silently out-snark each other, Giles finally managed to claw his way out of the vice-like grip of Xander and Willow and thundered to Buffy’s side.

“You can’t possibly believe that I’d let you go, Buffy. You know that’s impossible… I…I have a duty to…to…”

Buffy turned to her former Watcher, seeing the tears that he was barely keeping in check. She hated that she was doing this to him but really, she hadn’t had a choice in the whole being vamped thing. One thing she did know – she wasn’t about to bare her chest for him to shove a stake in her. She’d only just found freedom, and she was going to grab tight hold and never let it go. She was finally free of duty.

“Giles, you really can’t stop me. And be honest – you don’t really want to. Look, Spike’ll promise he won’t kill and I can’t. Oh, the bloodlust is scary powerful but when I tried to feed I got a seriously soul-having guilt trip. Not sure if I do have my soul, but I’ve got something slayer-like left in me it seems, because I’m not your average rip-now-ask-questions-later vamp. So – no badness, excepting maybe to blood banks, because let me tell you, pig’s blood tastes nothing like pork chops.”

Willow was making retching noises and Xander was providing his own ‘ewwww’ soundtrack. Buffy leaned around Giles to raise her eyebrows at them. “Guys? Not helping.”

“Sorry, Buffy. We’ll be good, won’t we, Xander?” Xander nodded. This whole night was turning into a nightmare scenario in his head, may as well be a farce as well. Bring on the clowns…scary and funny.

Buffy locked eyes again with Giles. “I’m going to see my mom, then we’re skipping town. Just let me go, please.” It wasn’t a request, really; Buffy would leave on her own terms anyway, but she’d prefer it if she didn’t have to knock Giles down to do it. Her watcher, her mentor, her friend; what he thought meant a lot to her.

But not as much as Spike.

Buffy moved to quickly hug Giles, and released him before he had a chance to react with the pointy stick he still had gripped in his left hand. As he started to stutter and gather his thoughts, she was already embracing Xander and Willow in a three-way hug, tears running down her face as she realised, finally, that this would probably be the very last time she saw her best friends…and that they’d be dead and gone while she still wandered the earth for centuries, vampire slayers and other predators permitting.

A soft tap on her shoulder signalled Spike’s arrival at her side. She leaned into his comfort as they walked away, her gaze lingering on her friends and Giles, on Angel, until they were just blurs in the darkness. Outside the cemetery gates, Buffy’s legs gave out and she let the tears flow. Spike scooped her up and cradled her to his chest, softly whispering to her that it would be all right, as he strode towards Revello Drive, following Buffy’s mumbled directions.

tbc

REALITY BITES
CHAPTER 4

There was a light on in the house. Buffy let Spike set her down and simply stood and memorised the place she’d lived in for such a short time but which had been more of a home to her than any other house she’d had. She hadn’t even considered how her mom would be worried that she didn’t come home last night, hadn’t thought to check with Willow how freaked her mom had been about her absence. What could she say to her? Her mom didn’t even know she was the Slayer – didn’t even know what a Slayer was – so how would she explain the fangs? And Spike – she was betting that his leather and bleach look was the type of thing her mom would see as trouble. This was going to be even tougher than she’d thought.

As she gripped the door handle and tried to push the door open, she came across another problem. The barrier. Vampire plus no invite equalled no entry. Buffy pushed against the invisible force in wonder; that felt so weird…

“Oh…stupid Buffy. I didn’t even think of this. Spike…what do I do now?”

“What, the barrier? Well, you know what to do – the only way in is to get an invite, love. And as the only person who lives here now is your mum, I guess you get her to do the deed. Call her.”

Buffy spun round, her eyes swimming with tears again. “I can’t – what do I say? She’ll know something’s up if I don’t go straight in. I don’t think I can do this…I was stupid to think that I could. We should just…”

The door flew open, Joyce Summers illuminated by the hall light, showing up her uncharacteristically unkempt hair and red-rimmed eyes.

“Buffy! Oh my god! Where have you been? I’ve been out of my mind – but the police said I should just wait – and I waited…and I called your father and you weren’t there. Oh, Buffy!” Joyce grabbed her daughter and wrapped her arms around her, sobbing as she patted her down to check for damage. “You’re so cold! Your hands are freezing – come inside and I’ll fix you a hot chocolate. I’m just so relieved…but don’t think you’re not grounded because you are, permanently.”

Joyce dragged Buffy inside, the barrier magically disappearing with Joyce’s words, not realising at first that there was another figure at her daughter’s side until Buffy stopped just inside the doorway. Joyce turned to see what Buffy was doing, and spied the young man standing just outside.

“Buffy? Are you going to introduce me to your friend?” Whilst the words were civil, Joyce’s tone certainly was not, leaving Buffy in no doubt that Spike was not the kind of boy she approved of.

“Mom – this is Spike; Spike – Mom.”

“Hey; nice to meet you Mrs…erm...Summers.” It took Spike a while to remember the Slayer’s surname, but he got there.

“Yes, I’m sure. Well, thanks for bringing her home; we’re fine now.” Joyce went to close the door, wanting to put the solid wood between herself and the undoubtedly attractive but dangerous-looking man on her doorstep. That Buffy even knew such a person was a shock; but right now, just having Buffy home was the main thing. The investigations and recriminations would come after a good night’s sleep.

The door didn’t budge very far though, as Buffy’s foot was firmly wedged between it and the jamb. Joyce flinched at the flash of - was that gold in Buffy’s hazel eyes? - and the glare that her daughter was giving her.

“Ask Spike in, Mom.”

“But…”

“Ask him in.”

Oddly nervous, Joyce did so, shivering a little as Spike passed her, his duster whipping at her legs. There was something about him that was slightly off, and the way he was gazing at Buffy was simply not appropriate, given her age. Buffy moved her foot and leaned back against the door to close it, smiling at Joyce as if everything was normal.

Joyce was beginning to think that it was far from it. But she led the way into the kitchen and set about making chocolate, busying herself to settle her thoughts and racing heart down. What could be wrong, after all? Buffy was back, and appeared to be safe and sound. Hank had been right; she was just being a teenager, pushing the boundaries. A good lecture and a month grounded would sort her out, and once this Spike person was out of the house Joyce would find out where he fit into the equation. And get him out of it.

But she couldn’t resist some subtle questioning, just to put Buffy on notice that she wasn’t happy. “So, Spike. How do you know Buffy?”

Joyce’s tone was amiable enough, but there was underlying steeliness there that Spike liked. This lady was tough; no doubt that was where the Slayer got it from. He had no illusion that if pushed to protect her daughter, Joyce Summers would fight like a lioness. Before he could reply, Buffy shook her head at him and jumped in.

“Mom, I’ll tell you everything, but you need to sit down, ‘kay?”

Joyce flipped, her flimsy resolve not to start the inquest until tomorrow evaporated. “Sit down? Do you have any idea what I’ve been through, young lady? You stay out all night, you come home with this…this man who is clearly a lot older than you, and you expect me to sit down? I want to know where you’ve been, Buffy. And who this is.”

Spike growled; his mate was being spoken to in a threatening manner and the demon in him didn’t approve. Buffy punched him in the arm to shush him, earning her a death glare that she rolled her eyes at.

Joyce noted the interaction between the two and it ratcheted her anger up a notch. “Buffy? You tell me now what’s going on, or I swear, you’ll never leave this house until you’re sixty.”

This was it; Buffy faltered as she looked between her mom and Spike, her old life and her new. She’d wanted to protect her mom from the big bad world that was her everyday business, but it was too late for that now. She couldn’t stay here, and Joyce wouldn’t let her leave voluntarily. She had to make her mom see what she was and try to make her understand why she had to go. And besides, just being here in the kitchen, in such a small space, Buffy was becoming increasingly aware of the pounding of her mom’s heart and it had been such a long time since she’d fed. The tummy rumbles that had assaulted her in the cemetery returned with a vengeance and Buffy found her gaze drawn to the pulse at Joyce’s throat. She wondered, distractedly, whether her mom’s blood would taste like her own…

As Buffy’s eyes glazed over, Spike realized she was about to lose it and moved to stand between the two women. He knew the Slayer enough to know that if she harmed her mother, she’d want nothing more than to greet the sun in the morning. He hadn’t quite figured out why that was, whether she had a soul or it was just something passed on from being the Slayer, but Buffy was not the merciless killer that most newly-turned vamps were. She was an enigma, his enigma. And he had to get her away from here. Time to start the revelations rolling, then.

He grabbed Buffy’s upper arms and manoeuvred her to a stool, caressing her cheek before he turned his back on her and faced Joyce. The lady was glowering at him, eyes flinty with anger and threatening bloody violence. Feisty, this one. Somebody he could have danced with at a different time…

Decision made, he strode forward and grabbed Joyce by the arms too, settling her down on the stool on the opposite side of the island and silencing her indignant protests with an icy finger to her lips.

“Shush, Mrs S. Got something to show you. Now you may not think it, but I’ve got your girl’s best interests at heart. Nobody will harm her while I’m around. You ready to listen?”

Joyce nodded, unnerved by this strange man with the mesmerising blue eyes and cheekbones sharp as a knife blade. She was in an almost dreamlike state as she watched his features morph before her very eyes, his forehead becoming wrinkled, no – ridged, and his eyes golden. And his teeth…he had fangs, like a tiger or a panther. She should be scared, but she found that she was merely curious. Definitely dreamlike…

Buffy seemed unperturbed by this change, looking at Spike with adoration. She hardly seemed to have noticed the difference. Joyce looked back at him, her own brow creasing with bewilderment.

“What are you?” she asked.

“What do I look like?” was Spike’s reply, impressed again by the complete lack of fear she was showing. Every second spent in the company of Buffy’s mother had him respecting the lady more. Classy woman, no doubt about it.

Surprising both herself and him – and shocking the hell out of Buffy – Joyce got up and went towards Spike, her hands moving over his face, stopping short of the fangs. She took a sharp gasping breath before stepping back. “You look like…like a vampire. But…vampires aren’t real. You can’t be real…”

“Yeah, I get that a lot. Right before I bite through the jugular usually. Oh, don’t worry – Buffy’s put me on a strict diet and you’re not on the menu; nobody is, apparently. We’re doing nothing but pre-packed meals now. Of the strictly non-human variety, excepting for high days and holidays, obviously.”

Buffy huffed and got to her feet, stepping to Spike’s side. This was going better than she could have ever expected, and it was all Spike’s doing. He’d taken charge of things, taken care of her like he’d promised he would. But there was one final thing to do; her mom knew about vampires now – although it would probably take a while for it to sink in – but she didn’t know that her only daughter was now one of the living dead. Joyce was looking puzzled again, trying to make sense of Spike’s cryptic words.

“Mom, what Spike’s trying to say within all that babble is that we’re only gonna feed on animal blood, or maybe if the blood bank’s got some spare we’ll try that. No killing.”

Joyce moved her head slowly to look at her daughter. “Blood?” It was obviously taking a while for the synapses in her brain to connect.

“Blood, mom. It’s what we eat. How we live. Vampires.”

“How you live…vampires. What do you… what on earth do you mean…?”

Buffy swallowed hard. Looked like she’d just have to come out and say it. She grabbed hold of her mom’s hands in hers and made sure they had eye contact.

“I’m a vampire too, Mom. See?” It was getting easier, the changing faces, and Buffy’s fangs and ridges slid into place.

Joyce screamed.

Her initial sangfroid had dissipated as her daughter became a demon in front of her eyes, and every inch of her body was screeching at her to flee. But she was still this demon’s mother, and there was no doubt that her daughter was in trouble. As Buffy continued to grip onto her hands, her scream ebbed away and she calmed, the only sign of her agitation her racing heart and terrified eyes.

Spike strode to Buffy’s side, giving her support by his presence. He changed back to human guise, Buffy following suit, in an effort to put her mom at ease.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I know it’s a shock – it was a shock to me, too. But I can’t change what I am now, nor what I was before.”

Joyce’s bottom lip quivered as she gazed into Buffy’s earnest eyes. She was still her baby. “Oh, my darling. Tell me everything, let me help you.”

Buffy nodded, swallowing down sobs, wondering where to start. “Well, you remember in LA when I said there were vampires…and you didn’t believe me? Well…there were. Oh, but you probably got that because…I am and he is…so…yeah. And I am…was…the vampire slayer, one girl chosen in all the world. But let’s skip all that because Giles can fill you in when we’re gone.”

“Gone? Giles? Buffy, you’re not making any sense. What’s a vampire slayer? And why were you it?”

“Chosen, Mom. One girl in all the world? You remember Giles, the librarian from my school, he’s my Watcher.” Buffy was searching her mom’s face for any sign of all this information registering. Didn’t seem to be. “Mom, I don’t have time to go through this with you now. Go and see Giles, he’ll tell you everything. Please, trust me.”

“But, Buffy…no, this is too much. Look, why don’t you go to bed, and we’ll sort this out in the morning. I can’t think straight right now -- I didn’t sleep last night. I must be imagining things.” It was all becoming muddled in Joyce’s head – vampires and slayers and fangs, things of nightmares. Self-preservation kicked in – the brain couldn’t deal with all the information being thrown at it, and Joyce just needed to be unconscious.

Joyce stood up, started to pace, muttering to herself. Buffy turned imploring eyes on Spike, but he had no answer for her. He could hardly advise her how to deal with her mother when the way he’d dealt with his own had ended so badly. No, the best thing to do was to get away from here, and soon. It would be sunrise before long and if they didn’t leave they’d be stuck here another day. He didn’t trust the watcher and he certainly didn’t trust Angel. The sooner there was an ocean between them the better for all concerned.

He darted in front of Joyce Summers, stopping her pacing, and forcing her to listen. “Bollocks to this. Look, it’s simple. Buffy can’t stay here, you’ve seen what she is now – a vampire. A vampire kills and slaughters and revels in the bloodshed and pretty soon, despite all her flowery promises, if we stay here much longer she’ll be hungry and you’ll be lunch. You get it? Now go, hug, do what you have to, but we’re out of here.”

Spike turned his back, intent on getting back to Buffy before the inevitable waterworks started up, so the clonk of the frying pan on the back of his head took him by surprise.

“Ow! You bloody bint, what d’you think you’re doing?” He snarled as he turned round to find the Slayer’s mum gripping the pan in both hands and moving in for round two.

“Get the hell away from my daughter,” Joyce spat out, intent on getting this insane person away from Buffy and removing his obviously bad influence. She raised the pan high but her wrist was gripped at the top of her swing before she could move, Spike’s face inches from hers.

“Don’t think so, Mum. I’m gonna let the first blow go for Buffy’s sake, but ‘m not keen on another lump on the noggin. Now, play nice.” Joyce relaxed her grip, seeing no other option, letting Spike take the pan from her. She crumpled and sagged back onto the stool, eyes now streaming with tears. Despite her assault, Spike felt sorry for her, the compassion that Angel always taunted him with making its presence felt. He tried to explain. “You really don’t get this, do you? We’re vampires – grrrrr nasty!! Buffy’s not your little girl anymore. She’s a stone cold killer, and if she stays here it’ll end badly, for you and for her.”

Joyce recovered enough to reply, weakly. “She’ll always be my little girl…”

Buffy sobbed and threw herself into her mom’s arms, clinging on for just a little while to the warm, familiar flesh. Warm flesh, flushed with blood; blood that pumped just below the surface and made untried fangs thrust through tender gums. Despite her best efforts, Buffy couldn’t help but inhale her mom’s scent and salivate at the thought of gulping down warm, sweet blood. It was taking supreme effort of will not to tear out the throat millimetres from her fangs, and it seemed that Spike knew because before she could act on that impulse, he was there, dragging her away and pushing her behind him.

“What do you think you’re doing? Move out of my way, right this minute!” Joyce was indignant, trying to push past Spike and get to Buffy, but she was stopped by a vice-like grip on her arm, Spike holding her away from his mate to give Buffy time to calm down and get a hold of herself.

“Can’t do that, love. My girl’s struggling as it is, and you goin’ all touchy feely with her isn’t helping. Now, if I let go, you’ll sit down, yeah?”

Joyce struggled a little, but when it became clear she wasn’t strong enough to break Spike’s grip, she nodded and he let her go to slide back onto the stool. Buffy moved around him to take his hand, now back to human face, although she was shaking at the thought of what she’d almost done.

“Mom, we have to leave now. I can’t be around you, around anyone, it’s too hard. I’m not in control of myself and just one slip and…I almost bit you, did you know that? You were holding me to make me feel better and I wanted to rip your throat out and drink your blood. I can’t do this; I’m not strong enough. Maybe one day…”

She left the rest unsaid and Joyce was wise enough to know not to push. She was deeply shocked to think that while Buffy had been snuffling into her neck, she was really checking out dinner. Maybe it would be best to put some distance between them until they’d both got used to the changes. Joyce knew that tomorrow she would cry and lament Buffy’s leaving but right now it was time to say goodbye. At least this Spike character seemed to genuinely have Buffy’s best interests at heart, and he was certainly strong enough to look after her, the bruises on her arms were testament to that.

Joyce helped Buffy to pack a bag, making sure to stay well out of reach, just in case. When it was done, mother and daughter stared at each other, unsure what to say and how to take their leave of each other. It was surreal. Spike intervened once more, hollering up the stairs for Buffy to ‘move her arse’.

It was time to go. On the doorstep, Buffy dared one more hug, avoiding getting anywhere near Joyce’s throat. “Bye, Mom. Take care of yourself. I don’t know when…if…I’ll be back, but I’ll call you. And go see Giles, okay? He’ll be able to explain everything you need to know. And don’t freak with Willow and Xander; they couldn’t tell you anything, it was a big secret. Sounds kinda stupid now…”

“I’ll go and see him, and don’t worry. I won’t be scary mom with your friends, although I can’t promise not to slap Giles once or twice. I’m a little jealous, I confess, that he’s been such a big part of your life and I knew nothing about it. So maybe I’ll make him nervous, just for fun.”

Joyce’s upbeat words belied the tears that threatened to spill as she waved her only daughter off with a total stranger. She managed to keep the smile fixed on her face until Buffy was out of sight and the door was firmly shut against the monsters she now knew roamed in the night.

+ + + +

Spike and Buffy made their way to the docks, mostly in silence. Spike carried Buffy’s holdall, darting glances beneath lowered lids every now and then to check that she was all right. She was still upset, but he sensed her excitement too and that would do for a start. He’d soon make her forget her life here, show her the good side of being a vampire. He’d work on the Buffy imposed diet restriction too. Once he showed her how to hunt, she’d come round, want the taste of hot human blood pooling on her tongue. It would only take time, and time they had in abundance.

“Well, pet. This is it. Say goodbye to Sunnyhell or whatever it’s called, and get your sweet arse on that ship. Gonna be a long trip, and I’m not sure where we’ll end up; think you can put up with me, kitten? All alone…you and me…nothing to do…”

Buffy smiled and turned towards him. It was weird, really. Here she was, leaving her mom, her home, her friends and yeah, she was sad – but mostly she was eager to find out what was out there. Freedom, hopefully. The whole world…and lots of hot sex…She laughed.

“What’s so funny, Slayer?”

“Oh, nothing. Just thinking…there is something we can do…alone. If you want to…” She dipped her head coyly, not believing the words tripping out of her mouth.

“Yeah? Well, lead the way and show me what you’ve got in mind. You know me – I like living dangerously.”

Spike tilted his head and smirked, following Buffy as she located a way onto the ship at the far end of the dock. He admired the sway of her hips as she walked up the gangway, feeling his cock harden in anticipation of the many, many ways they’d get to know each other before the voyage was over. He almost lost his footing as Buffy smiled sweetly and called back to him.

“So, Spike…tell me about this Dru.”

THE END