*** *** ***

Your world is coming to its end
But you don't have to be afraid - I'm here for you
Save your happiness for tomorrow
And today we'll drown in your tears
A drop of your blood tastes like wine today

Come closer my dear
It is just the beginning of the end
Yes, I'm here for you
Save your happiness for tomorrow
And today we'll drown in your tears
A drop of your blood tastes like wine today

And because I love you so
And I'm here for you
Save your happiness for tomorrow
And today we'll drown in your tears
A drop of your blood tastes like wine today
Save your happiness for tomorrow
And today we'll drown in your tears
Your blood tastes like life today

Will you let it rain
Let it rain
So won't you let it rain
Oh, let it rain
Won't you let it rain
— H.I.M., “Beginning of the End”

*** *** ***

The room was covered in blood. Her blood. It was everywhere, surrounding him, painting his vision in only red. She lay on the couch, her throat torn, the eyes he’d loved so much empty and lifeless. Still, he ran to her, taking her in his arms with a desperate hope that it wasn’t too late. That he hadn’t failed her.

But as soon as he held her, she began to crumble, her body breaking down until there was nothing but dust to slip through his fingers. A cold laugh rumbled through the room, and he looked up, meeting dark, dark eyes.

Spike sat up in bed, his bare chest covered in a sheen sweat, his body glistening in the moonlight from the open window. He ran a shaky hand through his platinum blond hair, wishing he could banish the images that still plagued his dreams away from his mind forever. Yet he knew nothing would push them away, not when they haunted his waking hours as well. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face as it had been the last time he’d seen it.

Cold, lifeless. Dead, open eyes staring, accusing…

Still trembling, Spike tossed off the covers and grabbed his jeans from the floor, pulling them up as he went to the window, looking over the London skyline. It had been ten years, and still he had yet to fulfill the promise he’d made to the woman he loved. Ten lonely years of losing himself to a mission he feared he’d never succeed in.

And in his search, he’d learned, discovering a world he’d once denied the existence of. And while he’d become a formidable force, he hadn’t been able to find the man – no, not a man – the monster he’d set out to destroy. The longer his search continued, the more frustrated he became, and he fought to stave off the helplessness that came with the fear of never being able to avenge the woman he loved. The only woman he’d ever love…

There were times he wanted to give up, to let it all end. The more time that passed, the less hopeful he got that he’d ever find justice for her. However, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. Even if he never succeeded, he owed it to her to keep trying – it was the least he could do after he…

Spike shook his head, trying to push back the memories that would never go away.

He turned back to the bed, his tired body bringing him to eye it with longing, though he knew trying to sleep again tonight would be futile. After one of those dreams, it would be days before he could find sleep anywhere but at the bottom of a bottle.

He scratched at the stubble on his face as he looked at the clock, seeing it was only two in the morning. It was early enough still that he could find some action if he wanted, and he decided he might as well go back out and see what he could stir up. It was better than staying home alone with his nightmares…

However, no sooner had he made his decision than did the tinny sound of his mobile phone fill the small bedroom. His eyes flicked over to where it lay on his bedside table, and he knew that if someone was calling at this hour, it wasn’t for a mere social chat.

Not that he knew anyone who would call him simply to chat anyway.

Spike walked over to the table and picked up the phone, not recognizing the number on the caller ID. He flipped it open and answered it with a gruff, “Yeah?”

“Is this Spike? It’s Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. We met several weeks ago.”

Spike frowned as he tried to remember the man on the other line. “The nest in Southwark,” he said as an image of the man popped into his mind and he remembered meeting him when they’d both tracked down the same hunting party. Afterwards, they’d gone for a pint, and Spike had drank a little too much and divulged more of his life story than he’d meant to in the process.

Still, that didn’t explain why the man would be calling him. Unless maybe he read a bit too much more into the night than Spike had intended…

“Yes, well, I just received a call from a contact of mine in Los Angeles, California. It seems there’s a new master vampire trying to lay claim to his area, and well, when Gunn said his name, it reminded me of our conversation.”

“Yeah, how so?”

“He called the vampire Angelus.”

Spike stumbled back, his hand shaking again as the name echoed in his mind.

Angelus…

*** *** ***

Do I have readers for this one? Please review. Pretty please? It'll make me happy... And my muse happy, too. *wink*

A petite blonde woman leaned against the side of the open doorway, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched the group of men leaning over a table across from her. “I’m bored,” she announced loudly, garnering an immediate response from the dark-haired man at the head of the table. His shoulders stiffened before he turned to look at her, not bothering to mask his annoyance.

“Then go find something to entertain yourself with, Buffy,” he snapped. “I’ve got important work to do here, and I don’t have time to indulge your every whim.”

“You never indulge any of my whims, Angelus!” Buffy yelled in response, throwing her arms up in the air as she stepped fully into the room, they’d been going through this every night for weeks now, and she’d had enough. “Hell, ever since we came back to LA, all you’ve wanted to do is stay in. I’m going stir crazy. We’ve barely even been having sex!”

A couple of the men at the table with Angelus started to snicker, though they stopped abruptly at the look he gave them. “Buffy, I’ve already told you, I’ve got more important things to do right now than escort you around town.”

“Yeah, yeah. The Los Angeles master is dead, you’ve got to vie for the position so you can take over the West Coast and then the world or whatever, but baby, I don’t care about any of that,” Buffy said, a slight whine in her voice. “I liked things better the way they were before.”

“We’re not discussing this now,” Angelus said tersely.

“But…”

Angelus slammed his hands on the table, bringing Buffy to an immediate silence. “I told you we’re not discussing this right now. I’m your sire, and unless you want to end up a pile of dust, you better do what I say. Now go.”

“Fine,” replied, before turning on her heel and storming out. “Asshole,” she muttered as she made her way down the hallway of the large mansion Angelus had commandeered when they’d set up in Los Angeles several months earlier. Since then, he hadn’t taken her out at all, forcing her to feed by herself and then wait up most nights for him to come to bed exhausted after yet another night of whatever the hell it was he did in his bid to take over LA.

The whole thing seemed stupid to her. Why did he want to be the Master of Los Angeles? Or the whole West Coast for that matter? It seemed like way too much pressure to her, and way more responsibility than she’d want. She guessed she could see the lure of the power, but being a vampire alone made her powerful. She didn’t really feel the need to be more powerful than all the other vampires, too.

Besides, if the way things had been recently was any indication, it wasn’t any fun.

In the first twenty-four and a half years she’d been a vampire, Angelus had taken her everywhere, shown her things that she’d never imagined possible before her turning. She’d been a high school student when they’d met, a Valley brat who’d never paid much attention to what happened outside of her own zip code. Then, she’d been turned, and the whole world had been hers.

Or theirs, to be more accurate. She and Angelus had lived by their own rules, existing solely for their own pleasure.

That was, until six months ago. It was then that Angelus had heard of the power struggle in Los Angeles and had gotten the crazy notion in his head that he wanted to be a part of it. Buffy couldn’t understand why he’d want to tie himself down to that sort of life when things had been so wonderful before. So what if the role supposedly came with more power? What could give you more power than never having to answer to anyone but yourself? Than being free to do whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted to do it?

And Master of Los Angeles? She got the whole near the Hellmouth, major center of mystical evil thing, but really…LA? She’d lived her entire human life in Los Angeles, and it had never stirred her so much she wanted to go back and settle down. And if Angelus did manage to take over the area, was that what they’d do? Would he have to sit calmly at his side while he ran the place as some demon crime lord?

The notion really, really didn’t appeal to her.

She’d played along in the beginning, thinking he’d eventually get bored with the whole thing and they could go back to the way things had been. But it had been six months now, and she was the bored one, not Angelus. If anything, he seemed to be getting more and more involved, as if he found having his little turf war so much more exciting than being with her.

He barely even let her outside anymore, claiming she would be a target for the vampires he was fighting against. She’d spend days locked inside the mansion, having to eat whatever the minions brought home – and very rarely was it anything that appealed to her. Especially given the fact it had usually already been snacked on. She hated leftovers

Well, tonight, she was going out. She didn’t care what Angelus had to say – she was his childe, not his property. And she didn’t need him to have a good time either. She could enjoy herself going solo.

Or maybe with someone else. A smirk crept on her face at the thought. That would show him if she came back smelling like someone else. Sure, there’d be hell to pay, but at least he’d be showing her some attention.

Buffy found a group of minions gathered around a television, laughing at some show she assumed only men could actually find amusing. She rolled her eyes, her well-manicured nails tapping against the doorframe as she scanned the crowd. Finally, she settled on the one she found least offensive. Tall, dark hair…yeah, he’d do. “Hey, you, come here.”

The vampire in question swallowed, his eyes wide. “Me?”

“Yeah, you. Get over here.”

The eyes turned from the television to him as he made his way towards their boss’s girl. “Yeah?”

“You’re escorting me out tonight,” Buffy informed him as she looped her arm with hers. “Come on.”

“But…but I shouldn’t do that,” he replied, his nervousness apparent in his voice. “An…Angelus wouldn’t like it.”

Buffy fought the urge to roll her eyes, reminding herself she was supposed to be seductive at the moment. But really, since when did vampires become such lightweights? She supposed a vampire who would willingly become someone’s minion was fairly pathetic to begin with, but she didn’t see the point of becoming undead and still worrying about what you should and shouldn’t do.

“Look, I want to go out, and I want some male company. You looked like a man, so I assumed you could provide me with it, but if you’re going to act like a total woman instead and not just take what you want, well…” She looked past him, flicking her eyes over the others. “I can always find someone else. Fuck him instead.”

The male vampire me? Really?”

Buffy looked him over, reconsidering her decision. Why was she doing this again? Oh, right. To piss off Angelus. So worth the sacrifice there. “If you keep me entertained tonight, then yes,” she replied with a kittenish smile.

“Dude, go for it,” one of the other vampires said. “She’s like, totally hot.”

Buffy fought the desire to roll her eyes yet again. Angelus had surfer minions? This was exactly why she didn’t want to be in LA… “Oh, just come on,” she said, grabbing her escort for the night by the arm and dragging him out of the mansion.

As she stepped out into the warm California night, all Buffy could do was hope this would be enough to get her sire to finally start paying attention to her again.

*** *** ***

Only an hour into the evening, Buffy decided she needed to get this over with. Her “date” was not only spineless, he was boring and couldn’t dance. Or maybe he could, were in 1978, but seeing as it wasn’t, he was no more than an embarrassment.

If she ever did this again, she was asking the guy what decade he learned to dance in before she took him anywhere.

So she stole a bottle of tequila from behind the bar, drank half of it, and led the minion out to an alley behind the club. She could make this quick, do what she needed to do to make Angelus crazy with jealousy, and then be done with him. Odds were Angelus would just dust him anyway, making everything nice and easy for her.

“I…I don’t think we should do this.”

Or maybe not so easy… Buffy sighed as she looked up from her position on her knees in front of him, her hand stilling at his zipper. “You’re kidding.”

“I… It’s not that you aren’t pretty or anything like that, it’s just, well, you’re Angelus’s girl, and…and if he finds out, he’ll kill me.”

Buffy stroked him through his jeans. “He won’t find out, baby. I promise.” She winked. “It’ll be our little secret. okay?”

“I don’t know… Angelus…he has a way of just knowing things. And I’m sure your pussy is great and all, but I doubt it’s worth risking getting dusted.”

Buffy’s jaw dropped. “I’m on my knees, about to suck your cock, and you’re going to what…just walk away?”

“Yeah. Sorry.” He shrugged. “Sorta difficult to get in the mood when all I can do is think about getting staked. It’s been a good night, though. I’ll…I’ll see you around.”

Buffy stood up, watching in shock as the minion walked out of the alley. How pathetic had her life become? She spent all her time locked away while her boyfriend played wannabe mob boss and she couldn’t even get some meaningless, jealousy sex?

It was almost enough to make her want to just fall on a stake herself.

She was too busy wallowing in self pity to realize she wasn’t alone in the alley until a second before she was slammed into a hard brick wall. She grunted, struggling against the man who had her pinned, her arms twisted behind her back, keeping her in a position that prevented her from getting free despite the fact her senses told her her attacker was human.

“You’re with Angelus?” a male voice asked.

“Maybe,” Buffy replied, trying again to break out of his hold. “Who the hell wants to know?”

“An old friend of his,” the man replied, his voice dark and cold. “Tell me where he is and maybe I’ll let you live.”

“Get bent, asshole,” Buffy snapped, throwing all of her strength into getting away. This time, she was successful, and she sent he man stumbling backwards as she turned around and faced her attacker.

He had a slight build, most of it covered by a long, black coat, but something about the man told Buffy not to underestimate him – human or not.

The stake he clutched in his left hand only reinforced that for her.

“Tell me where he is, bitch,” he snarled, raising the stake.

“Oh yeah, that’ll get you what you want,” Buffy snapped in response. “Insults.” She let her demon face slide forward, figuring if he had his weapon, she better have hers as well. Besides, if he was offering a fight, she was more than willing to take him up on it, given her current mood at the moment – even if a human wouldn’t pose much of a challenge.

She lunged at him, fully expecting to knock him off his feet.

Instead, she was the one who ended up on the ground.

She shook her head and blinked. So he was a better fighter than she expected, but that wasn’t a bad thing. Hell, it was probably a good thing, given that a longer fight would allow her to work off some more steam. Either way, she’d come out on top and with a hot meal, too.

Buffy sprang to her feet and immediately struck again, this time managing to move fast enough to deliver a kick to his side. He staggered backwards, but managed to stay upright, the only sign she’d even hurt him being the shaky breath he took before coming towards her again.

She moved to block the attack, only to realize too late she’d made a miscalculation. “Crap…he’s a lefty,” she thought as the attack came from the side she hadn’t been expecting it on, and he grabbed her, hauling her up against the wall and pining her again.

“I’m going to give you one more chance to tell me,” he said, his voice low and his lips pressed against her ear. His breathing was ragged, and unless he carried a stake in the front of his jeans, it was from more than exertion. Given her repeated failed attempts to get any action that night, it was a little…distracting.

Still, it wasn’t enough to make her say to hell with Angelus, give away their current location, and then yell “take me now!” to whomever this guy was. She didn’t do humans. They were sweaty and gross and so very, very beneath her.

Instead, she responded with a headbutt, knocking him back from her again, his stake clattering to the ground. She turned, snarling at him as he regained his balance. He smirked, even as his own blood ran down his face.

“I wouldn’t be smiling if I were you,” Buffy said. “You dropped your weapon, and I’m not going to let you pick it up again.”

He shrugged. “Don’t need it,” he said before moving towards her again. Buffy grabbed his arm, planning to be the one to slam him against the wall this time.

However, instead of trying to break free of her grasp, he reached into his coat with his free hand. Buffy tried to send him towards the wall, but before she could, he struck, pressing something hard to her side. A searing pain flooded her entire body, and she shook uncontrollably before she finally slumped to the ground, unconscious.

*** *** ***

I know a lot of people don’t much care for the idea of vampire Buffy, but personally, I’ve really been enjoying writing this fic. It’s really been flowing, and in the past week I’ve written drafts for nine chapters, which I think might be a record for me. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that it keeps up.

Please review and let me know what you think of it so far.

Buffy groaned, her head aching as she swam towards consciousness. The whole evening was a blur, and she struggled to remember the last thing that happened to her. Slowly, she opened her eyes, only to immediately become more confused.

From the looks of things, she was in a small, dingy bathroom. Chained to the bathtub?

Immediately she began to struggle, panic coursing through her as she realized the chains were too secure for her to break. Both her hands and feet we manacled, and her upper body was secured to the pipes. How had she…

The memory of what had happened in the alley behind the club came rushing back, and her panic was replaced by anger. “You better let me out of here, you bleached, Limey bastard!” she yelled, struggling more with her chains. “I’m going to fucking kill you!”

Within moments, the door opened, and he leaned in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his face. “Oh, a death threat. There’s an incentive.”

“You want an incentive? Here’s your incentive,” Buffy said with a saccharine smile that did nothing to temper the fire in her eyes. “Let me go now and I’ll kill you quickly as opposed to the slow, agonizing torture you’ll be looking forward to if you don’t do what I say.”

He uncrossed his arms, revealing a stake in his hand, and shook it at her like an admonishing finger as he spoke. “See, I don’t think you’re in much of a position to be the one trying to make a deal, ducks. I think I’m the one who’s going to pose the deal.”

“Unless it’s your heart on a platter, I’m not interested.”

He moved quickly, leaning over her with the stake poking into the top of her breast, poised to slide down and into her heart. “Then it’s not much of a loss for me. Won’t even be much of a clean up. I’ll just have to turn on the faucet and watch you swirl down the drain.”

As loathed as Buffy was to show any fear, the thought of that being her end was not one she wanted to face. However, she didn’t want to cut a deal with this guy either.

So she decided to go with her third option – seduction. Although the idea of bedding a human held absolutely no appeal for her, she didn’t see much more to fall back on than her feminine wiles. Besides, if she could just get him to lower his guard down, she could bite him before he had to finish the deed anyway.

She smiled at him, wriggling her body. “Come on, baby, you don’t really want to do that. Why don’t we have some fun instead? I mean, I’m already chained up…if you’re into that sort of thing.” She winked.

“I’m not,” he snapped, the stake digging further into her skin. “Nor am I into something as disgusting as sex with a vampire.”

“Oh, I don’t know, baby,” she purred. “You seemed like maybe you’d be pretty into it back in the alley. Unless that is where you keep your extra stake after all…”

He slapped her hard across the face, splitting her lip. “Shut your sodding mouth, bitch.”

Buffy narrowed her eyes and licked her blood off her mouth. “I’m not selling out Angelus to you.”

He stood up, backing off from her and shoving the stake into his back pocket. “Fine. Keep quiet for now. I’ll see how you feel in a few days after you haven’t fed.” He left the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Buffy roared as she pulled against the chains with her full strength, though she finally slumped in defeat when after several minutes they hadn’t even budged.

This night was really not going well for her.

*** *** ***

Spike paced the main room of the tiny apartment, his heart pounding in his chest. He’d followed the two vampires out of the club expecting to do nothing more than to exterminate a couple more vermin when he’d caught their conversation – and discovered the female was Angelus’s lover.

He’d developed a plan on the spot that had been shoddy at best, but then again, none of his plans had every exactly been carefully thought out. Wesley’s contact in Los Angeles had confirmed Angelus was indeed in the area, but beyond that, he hadn’t been able to tell him anything else. Spike had been searching for the vampire ever since, but his whereabouts had remained elusive, and the word on the street was he was barely seen out in public these days, even to feed.

Something about some demon turf war, apparently.

So after several weeks of frustration, he’d stumbled on his first break. He’d thought for certain the vampire would turn on Angelus in order to spare herself, but she was being stubborn. He doubted it was any sort of real loyalty, and he knew it couldn’t be love since vampires were incapable of such emotions. Which meant it was simply stubbornness.

So he’d have to wait it out. Eventually, when she was hungry enough, she’d talk. In the meantime he’d just have to…keep his distance. He’d known from the moment she’d started it that her attempt at seduction had been a ruse, but it had still made him…uncomfortable. The idea of being inside a cold, dead body… He shuddered just thinking about it.

And if his body had been responding to her, well… She was a hot blonde with perky tits, and that was the automatic male response to being flush up against a hot blonde with perky tits. It was just the way men were wired and didn’t mean a thing.

Although he was thinking now that chaining her up to the tub might have not been the best idea. He could use a shower…

Instead, he opted for a drink.

*** *** ***

Buffy had managed to fall asleep despite her current uncomfortable position, yet she awoke only a few hours later with the feeling of being watched.

Which she was. Her captor was back in the bathroom, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He reeked of alcohol, and Buffy hoped she could use that to her advantage. Drunks tended to be sloppy.

“Decided to give up on this and let me go?” Buffy asked, keeping her eyes locked with his across the room. “Because really, this isn’t going to end well for you.”

“Sun’s almost up.”

His voice was cold enough to send a chill through her. He couldn’t be thinking of… No, she liked the starving her plan much better. That would take time. Time for him to mess up and for her to get away. But anything involving sun…

“Yeah. So maybe you could like, um, let me rest?”

He said nothing more as he strode across the bathroom, keys in his hand. He unfastened the chains that had her bound to the tub as well as the ones around her feet, though he left her arms and hands secure. Buffy struggled, kicking wildly as he lifted her up, but he managed to keep her at an angle so she wasn’t ever able to make contact.

He carried her out of the bathroom, letting her see they were in a small apartment, though she didn’t take the time to really look at her surroundings. He was walking towards the door, his grip on her tight enough to bruise.

Buffy started panicking more as he brought her outside, refastening her chains so she was now locked up against the metal bars of a balcony. She could feel the impending sunrise deep in her bones, and she struggled against the chains, her demon face sliding forward as she snarled at him. “Let me go, you sick bastard!” she yelled, knowing it would be only a matter of minutes before the first rays of sunlight broke over the horizon, covering the eastern-facing building.

No one seemed to be coming out of their apartments to see what was going on outside either. But then again, from the look of the neighborhood, it wasn’t the sort of place where people really wanted to know…

“Tell me where he is.”

“I can’t!” Buffy yelled, pulling on her chains again.

“Yes, you can. You know where he is. Just tell me, and I’ll let you go.”

“No!”

“Then I stand here and watch you burn.”

She couldn’t get free. The sun would be here any minute. She…

Oh god, Buffy realized, unable to stop the tears that sprung to her eyes. She was going to die. She’d seen vampires who hadn’t made it into shade fast enough before, and listened to their screams as they burned into nothingness.

Nothingness… She’d be nothing at all. Not a body. Not even dust – not if she went out like this. There’d be horrible, blinding pain, and then nothing at all.

“Please, don’t do this,” she begged him, not even caring that she was crying in front of him. She didn’t care about being tough now. She was scared. She hadn’t been this scared since…since Angelus had turned her. “Please, if you’re going to kill me, stake me. Don’t do it like this. Please. I don’t want to burn.”

“You wouldn’t have to if you just told me where he is.”

Buffy shook her head hard. “I can’t.”

“Why the bloody hell not!”

“Because I love him!” Buffy screamed.

He stopped at that, looking at her with something akin to confusion. “What?”

“I love him,” Buffy repeated, softer this time, her voice choked with sobs. “I…I’d burn before I turned on him, but I… Please, just don’t kill me like this. Make it something quicker. Please.”

For a moment, he was silent, and Buffy shook, wishing she was stronger than this. She knew Angelus never would’ve faced death with tears in his eyes. He never would’ve begged. But she was so scared, and it had been so long since she’d really felt in danger.

When he came back over to her and unchained her from the balcony, Buffy felt a sense of relief mixed with dread. Sure, she wasn’t going to burn to death now, but she had no doubt in her mind that he was still going to kill her. But at least a stake through the heart looked like a quicker way to go. From what she’d seen, it only took a matter of seconds.

So when he took her back into the bathroom and refastened her to the tub, she was confused. “Aren’t…aren’t you going to stake me?” she asked.

“Do you want me to?” he asked gruffly, not looking at her face.

“No.”

“Then shut your gob before you tempt me into going through with it now.”

Buffy thought after her brush with real death she should probably just keep quiet like he said, but one question kept echoing in her mind, and she needed to know the answer to it. She needed to know what she was suffering for. “Why do you want to find Angelus so badly?”

He hit her hard, making her head slam back against the pipe and blood run down from her nose. “I told you to shut up, bitch.”

Buffy felt tears stinging her eyes again, but this time, she held them back. He checked the chains to make sure she was fastened tightly, then stormed out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

Alone, she slumped against the tub, feeling any hope of ever getting out of this fading away.

*** *** ***

Spike paced the tiny living area of the apartment, cursing himself with every step. When exactly had everything managed to go completely arse over tit? That stupid chit he had chained up in the bathtub was bollixing up the whole mess, ruining what should’ve been a completely workable plan.

All she had to do was tell him where Angelus was. He had no doubt that she knew. It was simple – just open her fucking mouth and give him an address.

He’d thought for sure she’d crack when he’d brought her outside. Vampires were always out only for themselves, and when it came to betraying another vampire or saving themselves from bursting into flames, the answer was always cut and dry.

Only she hadn’t cracked. She hadn’t even begged him not to kill her – just not to kill her like that. She’d seemed perfectly willing to die in order to protect Angelus.

Not only that, but she’d professed to love the other vampire.

Spike knew it had to be a trick. Vampires were incapable of love. She’d been trying to manipulate him, use emotions to keep him from leaving her there. Either that or she’d called his bluff and knew he hadn’t actually been planning on letting her burn. She was the only lead he currently had on Angelus’s whereabouts, and he wasn’t about to let her die so soon. He had to give it at least a little more time and hope that between starvation and the fear that he could kill her at any moment, she’d stop playing this ridiculous game and tell him what he needed to know.

However, in the meantime, he needed to get some rest. Between the stress of the evening and the amount of liquor he’d ingested, staying upright was beginning to become a problem.

Hoping she’d stop being so bloody stubborn once she got a little hungrier, Spike stretched out on the couch, quickly succumbing to exhaustion.

*** *** ***

I was going to wait a few days to post another chapter, but I’ve been having such a good time writing this fic (and writing like crazy, too), that I really wanted to know what you guys thought about it, too. So feedback would be very, very appreciated!

Buffy hadn’t seemed to be able to calm herself down since getting re-chained to the bathtub. If anything, she’d become more terrified in the hours since, her mind playing all sorts of scenarios for her demise.

And she was furious with herself for getting into the situation in the first place. She should’ve just stayed at home, not let her jealousy and boredom get the best of her. Or at the very least, eaten before she’d led whathisface out to the alley. Her stomach’s growls were fiercer than anything she felt she could muster at the moment.

However, when he came back into the bathroom, she pushed her fear away and worked up a good glare. “I’m not telling you anything, asshole,” she snapped. “So you can just fuck off.”

“The name’s Spike, actually,” he told her as he walked casually over to the tub and took a seat on the edge, safely away from her manacled hands. “I don’t think we ever took the time for proper introductions.”

“No, you were too busy chaining me up and subjecting me to mental tortures,” Buffy replied. “Thanks ever so.”

“You don’t have to keep suffering, you know,” Spike told her, his voice eerily calm, making Buffy wonder what his angle was this time. “All you have to do is give me an address and this can end.”

“Yeah, when you shove a stake through my heart.”

Spike responded with a shrug. “You’re going to be dead by the end of this either way. I’m not going to allow a vampire to keep feeding if I can stop it. But you could talk now and get it over with, or you could spend the next several days in agony. It’s your choice.”

Buffy decided to make her own choice.

Which was to spit in his face.

His jaw ticked, but Spike didn’t lose his temper as he wiped the spittle from his cheek. Instead, he walked out of the bathroom, leaving Buffy alone again. She let out a deep breath as she leaned back against the tub, hoping he was going to leave her alone again.

He didn’t. He came back into the bathroom, this time holding a cup, and before Buffy could ask what exactly he was planning on doing, he stepped over her, letting some of the cup’s contents spill onto her cheek.

Buffy screamed, pulling herself as far away from him as she could get as her cheek smoldered, the pain searing. “You bastard!” she yelled, panting in an effort to block out the pain.

“Oh, come on, it was just a little splash of holy water,” Spike replied with a cold smirk. “It’s not like I filled the bathtub with it. Yet, anyway.”

Buffy shook her head. “You…you wouldn’t do that.”

“No?” He leaned forward, speaking low. “How about I put just enough in the bottom of the tub to burn your legs off? Think maybe you’d talk then?”

Buffy trembled with fear. She’d seen Angelus torture someone with holy water in a similar way once, and she knew it wasn’t overly quick. It had slowly eaten away at that vampire’s skin like acid…

Suddenly, she was wishing he’d let her burn in the sun…

“I’m not going to sell him out,” Buffy replied, forcing herself to hold her head up high, though she couldn’t seem to stop the tremble in her lip.

Spike said nothing. Instead, he merely tipped the cup again, this time letting the water run down her chest, over the skin exposed by her low-cut shirt. Buffy screamed, bucking helplessly in her chains. It was one of the most painful things she’d ever experienced in her life, and again tears were forming in her eyes.

Only this time, she refused to let them fall. Instead, she vamped out again, snapping at him with her fangs.

Spike jumped back, then splashed the rest of the holy water on her, keeping her back from him.

Buffy screamed again as the water burned her face, chest, and arm. By the time the liquid stopped searing her skin, her tears were falling, and she didn’t need a reflection to know the damage it had done. She couldn’t even see out of one of her eyes…

She’d had enough. “Kill me,” she snarled at Spike. “Just fucking do it. I’m not going to talk and I don’t… I don’t want to be tortured anymore.”

“No. You have to tell me,” Spike insisted, letting the empty cup fall to the ground. “You’re going to tell me.”

“No!” Buffy screamed. “I’m not betraying him! I love him, and he loves me!”

“You’re a monster!” Spike bellowed. “You don’t know a bloody thing about love!”

“I know more than you!” Buffy yelled. “You’re the one who’s a monster!”

Spike whipped a cross from the back pocked of his jeans then knelt by the tub again, pressing the cross hard against Buffy’s neck. She screamed in agony, struggling futilely to escape his latest attack. “I know about love, bitch,” he snarled. “At least I did until your precious Angelus murdered my wife.”

A choked sob escaped Buffy as she finally understood why he was doing this. “Please,” she begged through tears of pain. “I’m…I’m sorry about your wife, okay? But I didn’t do it. Don’t…don’t hurt me anymore. And…and don’t make me hurt the person I love, too.”

Her voice was so small, so weak, that Spike actually felt himself faltering. He knew she couldn’t mean it, but… He pulled the cross away from her neck, flinching from the smell of cooked flesh.

Buffy slumped in the tub, the pain coursing through her body more intense than anything she’d ever known. “Please…just let me die now. I can’t…I can’t anymore…”

Spike stormed out of the bathroom, slamming the door hard enough to shake the tiny room.

Buffy crumbled into sobs.

*** *** ***

Spike ran out of the apartment, barely making it down the stairs and to the grass before he doubled over, throwing up what little had been in his stomach. He tried to tell himself it was the effect of too much to drink the night before and the revolting smell of charred vampire flesh, but he knew there was more to it than that.

This had all gotten out of hand. He hadn’t expected any of this to be so difficult, and he had been certain she would’ve cracked by now. He thought the holy water and cross would’ve done more, but instead…

Fuck, she looked like a teenaged girl. He knew she was really nothing more than a demon, but listening to her screams, seeing the fear in her eyes…

Maybe she was right and he really was the monster.

While he still couldn’t figure out why she was so stubborn in her refusal to turn on Angelus, he didn’t doubt her reaction to his interrogation of her had been genuine. Those were authentic cries of pain, and despite what she was, it had sickened him to listen to them. And to know he was the cause.

He’d killed more vampires than he could count in the years since Drusilla’s death, but he’d never attempted to torture one before. Not like this. He thought he could do it, had been completely convinced when he walked into the bathroom armed with holy water and a cross that he’d be able to stomach doing whatever it took to get justice for Dru.

But this was too much, even for him. He remembered he’d been a good man at some point in a distant past, and that part of him was apparently more alive than he’d previously thought.

As much as he hated to admit it, Spike knew he couldn’t do this anymore. Part of him said he was giving up on his closest link to Angelus, but he also had a feeling he was never going to get anything out of the girl. Whatever the true reason for her loyalty to Angelus, if torture and the threat of death hadn’t made her give him up, Spike didn’t think anything would.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stood on shaky legs, knowing this had to end now. Angelus was somewhere in Los Angeles. That much he knew for certain now. He’d find him some other way. If he had to personally stake every single vampire in the State of California until he got to Angelus, he would.

Spike went back into the apartment, pulling his stake from his pocket as he went back into the bathroom. It was time to put the creature out of its misery.

She was curled up in the bathtub when he reached her, sobbing uncontrollably. Her face and half of her upper body were both horribly disfigured, the holy water leaving red, angry skin and boils in its wake and patches of her long, golden hair burned away. A black cross-shape mark marred her neck, and the smell from it was still fresh in the air.

“Sit up,” Spike said, trying to fight down his stomach’s urge to rebel again.

She slid around in the bathtub, doing her best to sit up in her weakened state. “You’re going to kill me now, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

She continued to cry, though it was softer now, and she didn’t argue with what he was about to do. All she uttered was one weak request. “Please, just be quick about it. No…no more torture. Please.”

“Don’t worry, pet. Just a stake through the heart, and it’ll be over,” Spike said, allowing a small amount of softness to seep into his own voice.

“And…and could you not wash me down the drain?” Buffy asked, sniffling through her words. “Could…could you maybe…bring my dust outside? Let…let them go in the wind or something?”

Spike swallowed hard. He supposed he could give her that much, after torturing her for two days. “Yeah. I’m gonna need to get you out of the tub, though, if that’s what you want. It’s still wet in there.”

“I know,” Buffy said. “It’s…it’s still burning me some. My…my legs.”

Spike didn’t know why that made him feel a pang of guilt. He hadn’t thought about the holy water past pouring it on her, and he didn’t think about the fact he’d done the equivalent of leaving her in an acid bath.

He unchained her from the tub, though he left her feet and hands bound, noticing with a wince that she did indeed have more burns on her from where the holy water had pooled in the tub. Burns went up her leg, disappearing beneath her skirt, and again, Spike felt sick.

“She’s just a vampire,” he told himself, trying to fight the guilt he felt from doing this to her. “She’s a cold blooded killer. Probably did worse than this to people in the past…”

He didn’t know why he asked his next question, other than he felt like he needed to know before he did this. “What’s your name?”

She looked up at him, one eye frightened and green, one eye pale, milky, and clearly sightless. “Buffy…” she said barely above a whisper.

It was such a girly name, it took Spike completely by surprise. He hadn’t thought vampires would have names like Buffy. And she couldn’t possibly be very old, though he didn’t think she was quite a fledgling either. “What year were you turned?” he found himself asking before he could even think about why he felt the need to get to know someone he was about to turn to dust.

“1983.”

“Angelus do it?”

“Yes. He…he found me at the mall.” She looked down again. “Can I just die now? Please…it hurts so much…”

“Yeah, all right,” Spike said, tightening his grip on his stake. He raised the weapon, his jaw tight as he brought it down.

Buffy clenched her eyes shut and waited for it to end.

It didn’t. She opened her eyes when Spike roared and watched as he threw the stake against the wall.

He let out a long string of low curses before fishing the keys to the chains out of his pocket. Buffy was silent as he unlocked all the chains, letting them fall to the ground. She didn’t understand what was happening, and she was suddenly filled with an overwhelming fear that this was some sort of mind game and he was just about to start hurting her again.

He looked down at where she was huddled on the floor. “I don’t want to ever see you again,” he snapped. “You got that?”

She whimpered but managed a nod of consent.

He stormed out of the apartment with another heavy door slam.

Buffy stayed curled on the floor, clueless as to what had just happened.

*** *** ***

The sun had set, and Spike still hadn’t returned. Buffy wasn’t sure if he would, or possibly if he’d even gone. This could all be a trick to lure her out of the apartment so he could…

Well, what exactly, she didn’t know, but she didn’t care anymore. This could be her chance to escape. If she could only get back to Angelus…

He’d take care of her. Buffy had no doubt of that. Even with everything that had been going on recently, if he saw her like this, he’d take care of her. They were in love…

It was the thought of seeing her sire again that brought her back to her feet, and she fought to block out the pain as she stumbled out of the apartment. Spike was nowhere to be seen, and she realized with surprise that he actually had let her go.

Determined to make good of her unexpected freedom, Buffy started towards home.

*** *** ***

That was not an easy chapter to write. Feedback would be very appreciated.

Buffy wasn’t sure how she managed to make it back home. She’d never been in such excruciating pain, and the need for blood was pressing. Several times she’d fallen, and it had taken all of her strength to get back up again.

The one thing that kept her going was knowing when she got to Angelus, he’d take care of her. He’d give her blood, help her heal. Surely he’d put his campaign to take over Los Angeles on the back burner when he saw how badly she needed him now.

She let out a sigh of relief as she came through the front door, and collapsed into a heap. The minions standing guard started shouting, and she drifted in and out of consciousness as a flurry of activity went on around her.

She opened her eyes at the sound of Angelus’s voice, and she tried to pull herself up off the floor, moaning at the pain. He stormed over to her, grabbing her up by her arm and to her feet. “Where have you been?” he snapped.

Buffy winced, his grip making the burns on her arms hurt worse. “There…there was a man. Some sort of demon hunter. He…he was looking for you, and he found me. He tried…he tried to make me tell him where you were.”

“Did you tell him?” Angelus demanded, shaking her.

Buffy cried out from the pain. “No, of course not! Let me go, please. You’re…you’re hurting me.”

“Do you think I care about that right now, you stupid bitch?” Angelus asked, his face hard with anger. Then, he let her go suddenly, and Buffy slumped back to the ground. “Although really, I don’t even want to touch you. You look disgusting.”

“Angelus?” Buffy asked, her voice full of confusion and hurt. “Why…why are you saying these things?”

“Why am I saying these things? Because you deserve what happened to you, you worthless slut. I told you not to leave, and you did. Not only that, but you ran off with a minion. I had to stake him and every other minion that saw you leave and didn’t do anything! Now I’m going to have to go get more minions, and that’s just going to set back my timetable.”

“I don’t care about your timetable!” Buffy screamed, finding herself at her breaking point. “I just wanted you to pay attention to me!”

“You spoiled little fucking brat,” Angelus snarled. “You know, sometimes, I don’t even know why I bothered to keep you around as long as I did. You aren’t that good in bed.”

His words taking her by complete surprise, Buffy reared back. “What?”

“It’s time I do what I should’ve done a long time ago. All you’ve ever done is nag me, whine at me. You’re so needy, Buffy. Just a demanding little child who doesn’t even have a good enough cunt to make it all worth it.”

Buffy felt herself slipping into shock, unable to believe this was actually happening. He was supposed to love her, want to take care of her. He’d told her that’s why he’d turned her, because he wanted to keep her with him. Because he knew the moment he saw her that she was someone special, someone meant for him.

Their love was supposed to last forever…

“Angelus, please, help me,” Buffy begged, unable to stop herself from crying again. “I’m sorry. I…I didn’t mean to cause all this trouble. I made a mistake, and I’m sorry, but I love you…”

Angelus sneered down at her. “God, would you listen to yourself? You’re pathetic. Weak. A miserable excuse for a vampire.” He shook his head. “It makes me sick just to look at you.”

Buffy cringed, his words cutting into her. He was right… She felt pathetic and weak. She’d allowed a human to overpower and torture her, and she couldn’t stop herself from sobbing like a child. “I’m sorry,” she said, her words barely louder than a whisper.

“Yeah, you know what? I don’t care if you’re sorry. I don’t care about you at all, bitch.”

Shaking, Buffy managed to pull herself up, grabbing Angelus’s hand in a desperate attempt to make this stop. She couldn’t take this. After all she’d been through today, she couldn’t lose him, too… “Please. I’ll make it up to you. Just don’t… Please don’t tell me you don’t love me anymore. Please…”

“I don’t love you,” he replied coldly. “Fuck, Buffy, I’m a vampire, not some simpering fool. Sure, you were fun for a while, but come on. Did you really think you’d keep me satisfied forever? Especially since you never seemed to get past the irritating little mallrat stage you were in when I found you. I mean, geez, Buff, if I have to sit through another John Hughes movie, I may have to throw myself on a stake.”

“I…I can try to be better,” Buffy pleaded with him weakly. “I will be better.”

“Sorry, baby, I’ve already got better,” Angelus replied with a smirk. He pushed her off of him, sending her toppling to the floor. “Would someone please take the garbage out? I’ve got a real woman to attend to.”

It was then that Buffy noticed the unfamiliar scent on him, and she wondered how she hadn’t to begin with, the cloying, overpowering odor of another female on her sire suddenly all she could smell at all. She screamed Angelus’s name as he walked away, but he didn’t turn around, didn’t acknowledge he’d heard her at all. Two of the minions approached her, grabbing her off the floor by both arms, and Buffy screamed louder, struggling as they dragged her from the building.

Unceremoniously, they tossed her outside and locked the door behind them.

Buffy panted as she lay in the grass, a feeling of hopelessness washing over her. She wanted to wake up, wanted this all to be nothing more than a bad dream. Never had she imagined Angelus would do what he’d just did. She knew they’d had rough patches over the years, even times when they’d temporarily gone their separate ways, but she’d always known in her heart that he loved her.

Tonight he proved he didn’t. She was in her darkest hour, and he’d turned her away. He’d called her garbage…

She’d withstood torture to protect him, and he’d called her garbage.

Her heart hadn’t beaten in over two decades, but that didn’t make it incapable of breaking. He’d dismissed her in her darkest hour and gone to someone else. The thought of her sire in bed with another woman now, after he’d turned her away… She couldn’t take it. She’d accepted early on that she’d never be the only woman in his bed, but she’d never thought she’d be thrown from it completely. She’d simply believed him when he’d told her vampires didn’t believe in monogamy and that she shouldn’t take things personally – even when he often flew into a rage if he caught her with someone else.

For twenty-five years, her existence had centered on Angelus. Even in the brief times they’d spent apart, she’d still known in her heart they’d end up together again. He’d been the one constant in her life, her source of strength that had kept her together in the difficult beginning, right after her turning, when suddenly everything she’d known and loved in her life was gone.

He was her world, her life, her everything – and he’d thrown her out like garbage.

Every piece of her hurt, inside and out. She wanted to stay right where she was and just wait for the sun. Burning up couldn’t possibly hurt more than continuing on like this…

But she couldn’t do that. Angelus had called her weak, but Buffy knew she wasn’t. She wouldn’t have gotten even this far if she wasn’t strong, if she wasn’t a survivor.

She wiped roughly at her tears, cursing herself for shedding them at all. Angelus may think she was pathetic and worthless, but she’d show him otherwise. She’d make him see how strong she could be.

She’d make him regret what he’d done to her.

Her features set in grim determination, Buffy pulled herself back to her feet.

*** *** ***

Spike didn’t remember ever feeling this frustrated before. He was so close to finally reaching Angelus, and yet he felt farther away than he’d ever been before. Almost everyone he talked to had heard of Angelus, yet apparently no one had actually seen him since he’d come to Los Angeles. It appeared that he’d been staying behind the scenes, planning something big while his minions took care of most of the dirty work.

Which meant Spike’s best chance of finding the vampire was most likely getting a minion to talk – and at the moment, the thought of what that might entail made bile rise to his throat.

He knew he should’ve killed her. He’d just signed the death warrants of countless people by letting a vampire go. It didn’t matter that she had such an innocent-looking face. Beneath the surface was nothing more than a killer, a demon.

Yet somehow, a flicker of the compassionate man he’d once been had found its way back to the surface, and he’d been unable to do what he’d done hundreds of times in the decades since his wife’s death – rid the world of a vampire.

And now, his heart didn’t feel in the hunt at all. He was in the same town as Drusilla’s killer, and he knew that meant he should be more active than ever in his search, yet all he wanted to do was sleep. He was so tired…

Spike stood outside of a dive bar he’d heard was frequented by some of Angelus’s minions, a lit cigarette dangling from his mouth. He knew what he needed to do. He needed to go in there, shake the place down, and find what he wanted to know.

Instead, however, he found himself stubbing his cigarette out beneath his boot, turning around, and heading back to his current apartment. He’d get some rest, start fresh tomorrow, and hopefully be back to his normal self, the events of the past couple days no longer weighing so heavily on his mind.

That illusion shattered when he walked into the apartment and found Buffy seated on his couch.

He blinked, wondering for a moment if she was even really there. “I thought… I thought you would’ve gone. That’s why I left you,” Spike said. “You… I was letting you go.”

“I know,” Buffy replied evenly. “And I did leave. Then I came back.”

“You came back?” Her declaration made absolutely no sense to Spike. After what he’d done to her, he would’ve thought for certain that she would’ve run away as soon as he left – and stayed gone. Unless perhaps she’d come back for revenge…

Only she wasn’t moving towards him and she looked like she was in no shape to attack him. She looked as bad as she had when he’d left her – possibly even worse. She was dirty, as if she’d been crawling on the ground, and he’d never seen someone look so exhausted in his life. If she was there to kill him, she was at a serious disadvantage.

And he knew she couldn’t have someone with her, at least not inside. Spike purposely chose to rent apartments when he traveled and not stay in hotel rooms for that very reason – vampires would need an invitation to get inside.

So she was sitting on his couch, alone, after coming back to a place where she’d been brutally tortured over the course of two days. There was only one question for him to ask.

“Why?”

She met his eyes, and Spike saw something dark that hadn’t been there before in them now. “Because I’ve changed my mind.”

Spike’s brow furrowed. “Changed your mind?” he asked, still not able to comprehend what had brought her back there.

For a moment, her face changed, her features flickering between human and demon.

“I’m going to help you kill Angelus.”

*** *** ***

Thank you for all the feedback for the last chapter. It definitely kept the muse well fed. ;)

Buffy’s answer didn’t leave Spike any less confused. She’d been willing to die to keep from giving Angelus up, and now she was going to help Spike kill him? Was she a schizophrenic vampire?

“Um, I think you’re going to have to say that again,” Spike replied with a frown.

“I said I’m going to help you kill Angelus,” Buffy repeated. “What, are you deaf or something?”

“No, I just…” Spike ran his hand through his hair and shook his head. “I thought you loved him, is all.”

Buffy snorted, Angelus’s harsh words from earlier in the evening still ringing in her ears. “Vampires don’t love, Spike.”

Spike nodded. He’d known that, after all. “Right. But I’m still not getting the whole turncoat thing, pet. And excuse me for being cynical, but I’m not exactly trusting you right now either.”

“Hey, I’m the one who just came back to a place where I spent a day of horror, buddy. I shouldn’t be trusting you.”

Spike arched an eyebrow. “Do you?”

Buffy was quiet for a moment, thinking about the question, before she replied, “Yeah. I guess I do. More or less. You strike me as one of those noble types.”

Her response made him laugh, though it wasn’t a particularly happy sound. “I tortured you and almost killed you.”

“Yeah, you did. But it wasn’t anything personal.” Buffy shrugged. “You wanted something from me, and you had a good reason to want it. Now you’ve got it.”

“So you’re going to tell me where I can find him?”

Buffy shook her head. “That’s not going to be good enough. If you don’t trust me about anything else, trust me here – going after Angelus on your own will not get you the revenge you want. He’s in the middle of vying for control of Los Angeles, and he’s become super paranoid in the meantime. He’s got guards, surveillance – you’d never even get close to him. Odds are, you’d be taken out by a sniper before you even reached the door.”

Spike frowned harder. Vampires armed with sniper rifles were not what he was used to dealing with. “So how are you going to help me then?”

“I know the layout. I know the guards, I know when they change shifts. I know exactly how to get you in, and I’m more than willing to help you in a fight.”

Spike cleared his throat. “Um, no offense, pet, but, um… You’re not really in any condition to do any of that.”

“Not at the moment, no,” Buffy conceded. “But I can be, given time.”

“How much time?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never been this badly damaged before. But with enough blood…”

Spike cut her off. “I don’t care what you’re offering me, you try to kill a human, and you’re dust. No exceptions.”

“Yeah, I kinda guessed that, sherrif,” Buffy grumbled. “Geez, give me some credit. It isn’t as powerful, or as tasty, but I can drink animal blood. Butcher shops carry it.”

“Oh.”

“Look, you can chain me back up if you want. All I really need right now is sleep and blood. And when I’m better, I’ll help you get rid of Angelus.”

Spike crossed his arms over his chest, still not sure if he could accept her offer at face value. It could very easily all be a trick. It still didn’t make sense to him that she’d come back to him after what he’d done to her, or that she’d want to kill Angelus after being so loyal to him only a few hours earlier. The one thing that did make sense was that she was tricking him in order to lure him back to Angelus, in which case he should just do what he should’ve done earlier and stake her.

However, even if it was a trap, it could be his best shot at getting close to Angelus. If she was telling the truth about his current security measures, then he’d need someone on the inside to get to the vampire. Even if that person on the inside was setting him up, it was still something he could use to his advantage.

It would take a few days for her to heal, of that much Spike was certain. In the meantime, he could try to get what information he could out of her, hope she lowered her guard down enough to tell him things that would be of help.

And in the end, all he wanted was a chance to face Angelus. If it resulted in his death, so be it.

“Then what happens?” he asked, trying to keep his face as emotionless as possible. “You just go on your merry way?”

“That’s up to you. You can let me go, or you can stake me. I really don’t care which one at this point.”

Something in her tone unnerved him. She sounded so…broken. He tried to push away the guilt that came with that realization, though it didn’t seem to want to leave him.

“Yeah, all right. Let’s get you chained back up.”

Buffy stood up from the couch, though her legs gave out from under her immediately, and she fell to the ground. She tried to push herself up, only to slump forward, and she cursed loudly, hating her weakness.

“It’s all right, pet,” Spike said, the softness of his tone surprising even him as he went over to her. He picked her up, cradling her body in his arms as he brought her into the bathroom. Her mouth was close to his neck, yet somehow, he knew she wasn’t going to bite him.

He set her carefully against the wall before he went to the tub, rinsing it out, then wiping it down with a towel to make sure there was no holy water lingering that might cause her further damage. She didn’t offer any resistance when he placed her into the tub and chained her back up, though he heard her hiss in pain when the manacles rubbed against her burns.

Spike steeled himself against reacting to her pain. Despite her weakened state, she was still a vampire and she was still dangerous. He couldn’t allow her to move around freely.

“I’ll find a butcher shop first thing in the morning,” he promised her as he finished securing her to the bathtub.

Buffy only nodded her assent as she curled up against the side of the tub.

Spike said nothing else as he left the room, closing the door behind him.

*** *** ***

Buffy was beyond the point of exhaustion, but she couldn’t sleep. Her body ached, and the hard, cold bathtub did nothing to help her get comfortable. Her mind played her confrontation with Angelus on a loop, filling her with heartache and self-loathing. She was miserable. Cold, alone, rejected.

She cried softly, huddled as best she could manage, given the chains. Hunger gnawed at her, only adding to her overall pain. She’d never had to go this long without feeding before, and it was even more horrible than she would’ve imagined.

The door to the bathroom opened and she gasped, scrambling to sit up straight. “Shh, pet, it’s all right,” Spike said softly as he approached her, his hand on her shoulder. “I’m not going to hurt you anymore.”

And he didn’t. Instead, he tucked a pillow under her head and draped a well-worn comforter over her. “Heard you sniffling in here,” he said softly, his hand lingering a little too long on her back as he tucked the comforter around her.

“Thank you,” Buffy replied, her hand gripping the blanket.

“The butcher should be open soon. I’m going to head on out now. I’ll be back as soon as I have blood for you.”

“Okay.”

He left her alone again then, and Buffy clutched the pillow tightly.

*** *** ***

Buffy woke to the scent of fresh blood. She snarled, her vampire face coming forward unbidden as she pulled at her chains. She didn’t remember where she was, only that she was so very hungry…

“Easy, pet,” a gentle male voice coaxed her, a strong warm hand coming to rest on her shoulder. “I’ve got blood for you right here.”

Buffy let out a low, shaky breath, calming as everything came rushing back. “I’m so hungry,” she told him, her voice weak.

“I know. I’m going to unchain your hands, all right? Just long enough for you to drink this.”

Buffy nodded, then grew still, letting Spike release her hands. He gave her a mug then, and Buffy wrapped her hands around it, trembling as the smell of warm blood wafted upwards.

However, when she took her first drink, she winced. “Ugh. Blech.”

“Something wrong with it?” Spike asked, and Buffy thought she might have detected actual concern in his voice.

“No, it’s fine. It’s just…” She winced. “Pig’s blood.”

“Is that the wrong kind?” Spike asked. “I got cow and chicken, too.”

Buffy looked at him askew. “You got three kinds of blood?”

Spike shrugged. “I didn’t know what you’d like.”

“Well, this is fine. It’s not human, so it’s all going to taste equally nasty. Kind of like eating a Big Mac when you’re used to filet mignon.”

“Oh. Well, I’m not knocking over a blood bank.”

Buffy smirked. “I didn’t expect you to,” she said before taking another drink of the blood. It was horrible, but she was starving and in no position to be picky anyway. She drank the contents of the mug quickly, though they weren’t enough to quell the raging hunger inside of her.

“Do you need more?”

“Please.”

Spike refilled her mug from the container he brought in the bathroom with him. Buffy finished that one, too, followed by two more before she’d finally had enough.

“Is that better now?” Spike asked.

“Yeah.” Buffy yawned, feeling pulled towards sleep again. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Spike replied, though some gruffness had crept back into his voice. He put her hands back in the manacles before gathering up the rest of the blood and leaving her alone in the bathroom again. Buffy curled up in the tub again and went back to sleep.

*** *** ***

Spike paced the short length of his apartment, his heart thudding in his chest. He didn’t know what was happening to him, what drove him to keep showing kindness to the demon he had chained up in the bathroom. He’d dealt with her kind countless times in the past, and never had he cared one way or another about their comfort.

He certainly wouldn’t have brought them bedding because he couldn’t stand to hear them cry…

He tried to tell himself it was guilt over his treatment of her and the marks she still bore from the ordeal, but that wasn’t a good enough reason for him. He shouldn’t even be feeling guilt over that. So he’d hurt a demon. She would’ve done the same or worse had the tables been turned.

Spike knew he shouldn’t even be bothering to nurse her back to health now. If she’d decided she was willing to bring him to Angelus, for whatever reason, then he should demanding she tell him what he needed to know now, not waiting until she was in better shape. Especially since once this was over, he’d have to see it she was dust anyway.

He didn’t like how a part of him rebelled at that either.

It made no sense at all, how she’d gotten under his skin. No woman had elicited a tender feeling from him in a decade, and that it was a vampire doing it now was completely insane. She was a disgusting, evil creature for which he should feel nothing but contempt.

Spike stopped pacing and went to his leather duster, digging around in the pockets until he retrieved a pack of cigarettes and his silver Zippo lighter. His hand shook as he lit the cigarette, and the first drag did nothing to calm him the way it should. His nerves were still on edge, too aware of the woman in the bathroom.

“Not a woman, mate,” he mumbled to himself. “A demon. Gotta remember that.”

He sat on the edge of the couch, body tense, and wondered if perhaps this was going to end up even worse than he’d first thought.

*** *** ***

Reviews would so go towards improving my mood…

Buffy woke as the sun set over the horizon, stretching as best she could in the bathtub, a small groan escaping her.

The blood and rest must’ve done some good, since she was now aware enough to notice the aches and cricks in her body from spending too much time chained up in a small space. She wished Spike would let her out, though she understood why he wouldn’t. He didn’t trust her, and he certainly didn’t have any reason to either.

She looked down at her hands, noting that her wounds didn’t look any better. She didn’t even want to think about what her face looked like, and for once, she was grateful she no longer had a reflection. She was sure she was beyond repulsive.

Buffy shifted again, unable to get comfortable at all in the tub. She knew she should probably sleep some more, but she was too restless and sore now.

And hungry again…

She bit her lip, mulling over what to do. Eventually, she figured Spike would bring her more blood, but for all she knew, it could be hours, possibly even not until tomorrow. Hell, she didn’t know if he planned to come back into the bathroom at all. Should she stay where she was and wait him out, or would it be okay for her to let him know she needed something?

Finally, she decided to take a chance. If he didn’t want her bothering him, well – what could he do to her that was worse than what he’d already done?

“Spike?”

She was relieved when a few moments after she called his name, he cracked open the bathroom door and peeked in. “Yeah, pet?”

Buffy couldn’t help the tremble that passed through her at the nickname. She wasn’t even sure he was aware he’d started using a term of endearment towards her, but every time he did it, her body had an involuntary reaction. Human or not, he was…attractive. Firm wiry muscles and the most gorgeous blue eyes she’d ever seen. And so different from Angelus…

“Buffy, did you need something?”

His question made Buffy blink, snapping back to the present and realizing her mind had wandered a bit. Oops… “Um, yeah. I was, um…hungry again. Can…can I have more blood? Would…would that be all right? If it’s not, that’s okay, I’ll just be quiet.”

“No, it’s fine,” Spike assured her. “It’s been in the fridge. Do I need to heat it up?”

“If you wouldn’t mind. Cold blood is all clotty and nasty.”

Spike made an expression of distaste. “Yeah, I’d imagine it would be. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He shut the door again, and Buffy leaned against the pillow he’d brought her earlier. She couldn’t believe she was actually perving a little on the guy. Sure, he was handsome, but he was also human.

That, and he’d dumped holy water all over her, hit her several times in the face, zapped her with a taser, threatened her with both a stake and sunlight, and was currently keeping her chained to a bathtub. None of that exactly screamed “seductive.”

Well, maybe the chains, she conceded, but not in a cold, hard bathtub. That took the sexy right out of the equation.

When he came back with the blood, Buffy found herself watching him move, her mouth watering unbidden. He moved with such deadly grace, relaying the hunter he was with every step. If he was in good enough condition to go toe to toe with demons… She trembled at the thought of the body that had to be under those tight, black clothes.

If she was going to actually do a human, it would be one like him.

Or, well, him, she realized. While her previous attempt to seduce him had simply been a ploy to get free, her reaction now was genuine attraction. He was gorgeous, with a face much more angelic than she’d spent most of the past twenty-five years looking at. His features were perfect, not a single blemish marring his face, save for one scar that cut a jagged line into his eyebrow – and even that just seemed to add to his overall hotness.

She’d always assumed that sex with a human would be icky, but watching him, she wondered if that would be the case at all. Sure, they got all sweaty and hot, but his warm touch had felt so good on her, the few times he’d touched her in something other than anger. And to listen to his blood pumping under his skin, his heart pounding in his chest, as he fucked her? Just thinking about it made her mouth water…

And the bulge in his jeans… She didn’t have to break out a ruler to tell he had more there than Angelus did.

“Uh, Buffy? Do you want this or not?”

“Huh?” Buffy asked, blinking, before she realized Spike had already unchained her hands and was handing her the mug. “Oh, right, Sorry. I was just…” You’re pretty… “I keep zoning out. From the pain,” she said, hoping that was a believable explanation.

Spike winced and drew back from her. “I’m sorry.”

Buffy’s hands shook at his apology, and she almost dropped her mug. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” Spike admitted, looking down at his hands and not her burned face. “I… I took things too far.”

“Well, it’s kind of what you do, isn’t it? I mean, I get the feeling I’m not the first vampire you’ve ever come in contact with, and I doubt the others lasted this long.”

“Yes, but I don’t…” A flicker of what Buffy could only call regret went across his face. “I never treated one like I did you. Not like that. Not when they weren’t even fighting back.”

“Don’t feel so bad about it,” Buffy said, her gaze drifting down to her mug of animal blood. “I’m a pathetic excuse for a vampire anyway. At least according to Angelus.”

Spike’s head cocked to the side and he regarded her with a frown. “He said that to you?”

“Yeah. Somewhere in between telling me he never loved me and calling me garbage.” Buffy didn’t know why she was admitting this, especially since it was still too raw for her to even want to talk about it, but she found herself saying the words nonetheless.

“Is that what made your change your mind about helping me?” Spike asked, taking a step closer to the bathtub. “Did you try to go back to Angelus and he turned on you?”

“Yes,” Buffy admitted, a lump in her throat. “I…I really needed him, you know? I was hurt, and weak, and I needed someone to take care of me, and I thought he’d do it. He’s my sire. We’ve been lovers for most of the past two and a half decades. But…but he turned me away. He said he had someone better now, and that I was just useless and disgusting to look at now that I’m all burned up. He knocked me down, and he yelled at me, and then he told the minions to take out the garbage.” She spoke in a rush, the dam bursting inside of her again, and as soon as she was through with her confession, she was crying once more.

She could be manipulating him. Spike knew that. But somehow, he didn’t think she was. She looked so completely…broken.

It hurt his heart to watch her.

“Buffy?”

She looked up at the soft way he said her name. “Yeah?”

“If I kept you unchained while I was awake, you wouldn’t try anything, would you?”

“No.”

“And you know I’d stake you if you did.”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Spike leaned over the bathtub, taking her blood from her before he pulled the keys out of his pocket and unlocked the chains. Buffy sighed in relief when she could move her limbs again, stretching them out experimentally.

“You’ll be going back in before I go to sleep,” Spike told her, even as he held out his hand and helped her to her feet. “I can’t let you be free when I can’t keep an eye on you.”

“Okay.” Buffy ran her fingers along his wrist, her hand lingering a little too long in his as she climbed out of the tub. She could feel his pulse, and it made her want things other than just blood.

She could hear his heart pounding and his breaths grow ragged. Her eyes shifted to his lips, her tongue darting out to moisten her own as she wondered what he’d do if she kissed him. Would he push her away in disgust, or would he…

Her train of thought was stopped short when he jumped back from her, running his hands shakily through his platinum blond curls before he picked the mug back up and thrust it at her. “Here, eat. You were hungry,” he said, his words coming a bit too quickly to be normal. “And I’m going to shower. Because you’ve been in there, and it’s been a few days, and…” He took a deep breath, calming himself down. “You can go sit on the couch. There’s a television, too. I’ve got cable.”

“I’ll still be there when you get out,” Buffy said.

“Yeah, I know.”

Buffy let her eyes flicker down to his crotch for just a moment before she left he bathroom, and she smirked to herself as she confirmed in her mind that his shower was going to be a cold one.

It made her feel a little better to know maybe this attraction wasn’t one-sided.

*** *** ***

True to her word, Buffy was on the couch when Spike came back out of the bathroom. She was curled up against the arm, her now-empty mug on the floor, her eyes focused on the television. The side facing him now was the side that had been least affected by his torment of her the day before, and he realized with a quick intake of breath how beautiful she actually was.

Clearly, she’d been young when she’d been turned, though she looked mature enough to pass for a woman and not a child. His eyes traveled the length of her, down the golden waves of her hair, over her firm breasts, all the way down her strong, well-formed legs. He had a fleeting thought of them wrapped tightly around his hips, her breasts bare and bouncing as he…

Spike shook his head, deciding that line of thinking was going to stop right there. She was a vampire. A cold, dead thing. If he actually touched her, he was sure he’d enjoy it less than his body was trying to convince him of at the moment.

Only her hand had felt nice in his when he’d helped her from the bathtub…

Which had been another dumb thing to do, he chastised himself. He had to stop feeling sorry for her and remember what she was. Even if what she’d told him about how Angelus had treated her when she went back to him was true, that didn’t make her somehow suddenly on his side. She was a demon, evil and a killer. She was probably only here with him now, agreeing to his terms, because she needed help both healing and getting revenge on the lover who scorned him. As soon as Angelus was dead, she was sure to turn on him.

Which meant he had to keep alert so he could get her first.

“Did you get enough to eat?”

Buffy turned to look at him, and while she’d started to answer his question, her words came out as a broken squeak. He was…shirtless. And still wet from the shower. Oh, baby…

Spike felt himself blushing at her unabashed ogling of his chest. Her eyes darkened, and her tongue ran over her lips slowly, as if she were imagining tasting him. As if he were something she’d like to eat.

If she hadn’t been a vampire, that may have unnerved him a little less.

“Uh, Buffy? You’re not still…hungry are you?”

She looked at his face then, her eyes still full of lust. “Not for blood, no,” she replied with a coy smile.

Oh bloody buggering fuck… There was no way of mistaking what she was hungry for. Quickly, Spike went to his dresser and pulled out a t-shirt, slipping it over his head before she could get much more of a look. “Well, that’s good,” he said, his voice holding a slight tinge of panic. “If…if you need more blood, I have it.” He took a seat on the opposite end of the couch from her, practically sitting on the arm.

Buffy sighed internally, her head ducking down at the sting of his rejection. She felt so stupid for not checking herself and actually trying to be seductive. Of course he didn’t want her. She was hideously ugly. Half her body was covered in horrible boils, she was partially bald, and she knew her currently-blind eye had to look disgusting.

She steeled herself against yet another flood of tears, tired of breaking down like a child over and over again. Instead, she looked away from him, concentrating on the television.

Spike said nothing else, and she let the silence stand.

*** *** ***

Yep, that’s updates on two days in a row. Aren’t I good? Don’t you want to leave a review?

Buffy was back in the bathtub, though she didn’t remember how she’d gotten there. She remembered being out in the living room for a while, both she and Spike silent as they’d watched television. She assumed she must have been even more exhausted than she’d thought and had fallen asleep on the couch – at which point he’d brought her back to the tub.

She hated the tub. It was so hard and uncomfortable it made everything hurt even more. The pain had been constant for two days now, and the blood he’d been feeding her had done little to actually aid in healing. She was starting to worry she was never going to heal completely, that she’d have to spend the rest of her unlife being so hideous. If that were the case, she hoped he wouldn’t take too long to dust her.

She’d felt a little better on the couch, even if it hadn’t exactly been the nicest couch she’d ever seen. It was lumpy and worn, but it still beat the damn bathtub. He’d let her keep the pillow and the blanket, but they didn’t do a lot to help.

Buffy wondered if Spike was awake, and if he was, if he’d let her out of the tub again. And let her have more blood. She didn’t know if the animal blood wasn’t filling enough or if it was an effect of her injuries, but she couldn’t seem to keep from being hungry for long.

What she wouldn’t do for something warm and human…

“Spike?” she called out softly, not wanting to wake him if he was asleep. She chewed on her lip as she waited for a response, and breathed a sigh of relief when she heard the door open.

“Can I come out now?” she asked.

Spike turned his head away, not wanting to look at the hopeful expression on her eyes. “Not now, Buffy. Maybe later.”

“Oh. Can…can I have some blood then?” she asked, disappointment clear in her voice.

“Later,” Spike told her again, then shut the door, leaving her alone again.

Buffy stared at the door, feeling very confused. He’d been so…kind to her the night before, and now he wasn’t even letting her eat? She didn’t understand it. She’d thought they’d reached some sort of understanding. What had she done to make him go suddenly cold on her?

Oh, right… She remembered with a wince exactly what she’d done. She’d been stupid enough to make a pass at him. Of course he didn’t want her around anymore. She’d probably sickened him.

Buffy resigned herself to staying in the tub, trying her best to ignore the pain and gnawing hunger.

*** *** ***

Spike sat on the couch, taking deep breaths in a failing attempt to calm himself. He really had to get a grip, especially if he was going to be in close quarters with Buffy for the next few days.

He wasn’t able to get the image of the look of lust she’d been watching him with out of his mind. Even with her injuries, she was absolutely gorgeous, and his hands ached to touch her, his cock hard at the thought of what it would be like to be inside of her.

After she’d fallen asleep, he’d spent hours just watching her. She’d been completely still, so obviously dead, and yet, he’d craved her more than he had any woman since the loss of his wife. His body had burned for her, and it was all he could do to keep from waking her and begging her to let him touch her.

He hadn’t even wanted to take her back into the bathroom. He’d wanted to gather her into his arms and take her to bed with him, sleep with her body against his, warming her skin with his touch.

But he couldn’t do that. He’d finally reminded himself of what he was dealing with, made himself take her into the bathroom and remove the temptation. Now, he had to put distance between them, stop treating her like she was a person and not a demon. This had gone on long enough, and he had to get over whatever crazy thing was going on with him now and remember who they both were. He hunted her kind; she hunted his.

“Spike?”

Her voice sound so weak, so pitiful, that he was moving towards the door before he even had a chance to think about what she was doing. He stepped into the bathroom, wincing at his own cruelness when he saw unshed tears glistening in her eyes.

“I’m…I’m sorry. For…for what I did when you came out of the shower. I didn’t really mean to, it just kind of came out. I…I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, and I promise it won’t happen again. I…I won’t say anything at all if you don’t want me to. I’ll just sit on the couch, and I’ll be quiet, just…please let me out. Please, Spike. I can’t take it anymore. I’m trying to be strong and understand why you need me to be chained up, but it hurts so bad. I can’t take the pain anymore. Please. It’s so bad…”

“It…it hurts that much worse in the tub?”

“Yes,” Buffy said, her tears falling again. “I have to lay on my burns, and my legs rub together and chafe, and the chains… Oh god, the chains hurt. They’re rubbing the burns raw.”

Without a single thought to what he was doing, Spike was at the tub, unchaining her. “I’m sorry, Buffy,” he said as he helped her out again. “I…I didn’t realize. I’m sorry.”

“It just hurts,” Buffy said. “I’m so tired of being in pain. I’ve never hurt like this before…”

“Come on, kitten, let’s get you in the bed,” Spike said, offering her an arm for support as he led her out into the living room. He hadn’t thought for a minute she’d think his cold treatment of her had anything to do with her remark after he’d gotten out of the shower. He almost told her the real reason, but decided maybe he should bite his tongue before things got completely out of hand.

Buffy realized for the first time that the couch pulled out into a bed as he led her over to it and helped her get into it. She sighed in relief as she was able to stretch out on cool sheets, the mattress, though worn, so much softer than the bathtub. “Thank you, Spike,” she said, closing her eyes for a moment and savoring the feeling of just being out of the bathroom. “Thank you so much.”

“Let me get you some blood,” Spike said, leaving her side to go to the kitchenette and warm her a mug of blood in the microwave.

Buffy nodded, then let her eyes close. She was still in a nearly-unbearable amount of pain, but no longer being in that horrible bathroom made so much of a difference.

When he brought her the blood, she sat up, humming in contentment as she wrapped her hands around the mug. “This is much better,” she said, even the pig’s blood not tasting so horrible as it slid down her throat.

“Do you think maybe something like burn ointment might help?”

His question took her by surprise, and Buffy stopped with the mug at her lips before lowering it. “Huh?”

“I…I don’t know much about vampire healing, but maybe if I got you some burn cream, it might at least numb your skin a bit. Make it not so horrible for you.”

“It would be worth a shot, I guess,” Buffy said. “Anything would help right now. The wound on my neck from the cross is the most horrible pain I’ve ever experience in my life.”

Spike swallowed. “It’s really that bad?”

“It feels like someone’s holding a hot poker to my throat. And it’s barely let up since you did it,” she answered honestly. “I can’t even touch it without it hurting my fingertips, too.”

Spike had never really given a lot of thought to what cross burns felt like to vampires. But then again, he’d never really cared.

He handed her the remote to the television before slipping on his coat. “I won’t be gone long. You’ll be okay for a little bit?”

“Yeah. You’re going to get burn cream?”

Spike nodded. “There’s more blood in the fridge if you need it.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Spike muttered before leaving the apartment before he could change his mind.

Buffy leaned against the pillows and finished her blood. She could smell Spike on the sheets, and she closed her eyes, taking in the scent. It was so rich and masculine, and she wished he’d let her bury her nose against his skin and just breathe him in.

But she certainly wasn’t going to suggest anything like that. Especially considering how he’d responded to her one little sexual comment.

Instead, she got off the couch and walked on shaky legs towards the fridge. She was still ravenous, and she thought she should eat more before he came back. It was easier to be around humans when she wasn’t so hungry. She hoped he’d gotten enough to…

Her mouth fell when she opened the fridge. It was filled with containers of blood. He’d told her he’d gotten three kinds of blood, but he hadn’t told her he’d gotten a dozen containers of each.

Just how much did he think she ate?

Still, she drank several mugs full of blood, until the hunger she’d been suffering for days finally seemed to be abating. She went back to the bed then, turning on the television and flipping through the channels as she waited for Spike to come back.

And wondered what the hell was taking him so long.

She looked at the clock and realized he’d been gone for over an hour. Was there no drug store nearby? She’d thought he’d be gone ten, fifteen minutes max.

When he finally did come back, he was carrying several bags. She wondered if he had some sort of version of OCD that made him buy everything in bulk…

He put the bags on the bed beside her, taking the burn cream out first before he pulled out a large stack of magazines and dropped those beside her. “I thought you might like something to read.”

Buffy looked down at the stack, flipping through it quickly. It ran the gamut from People to Guns and Ammo. “This is quite a selection,” she said with her eyebrow raised.

“I didn’t know what you like. I got you some clothes, too,” he said. “I had to guess on sizes, but I thought you might be more comfortable in something else, especially with your legs like that. I got a nightgown in case you don’t want them covered at all, and some sweatpants and t-shirts if you’d rather have that.”

“Thanks,” Buffy said, not sure of what else to say. Although the idea of wearing something other than the tattered clothes she’d been in since the holy water was very appealing…

After a moment of debating, she took the nightgown out of the bag. She probably should cover up more around him, but at the moment, she cared more about not having cloth on her burns. “Would…would you be willing to just turn around and let me change here?” she asked. “I don’t want to go back in…there.”

Spike replied with a nod. “Yeah, I can do that.” He turned his back to her, his breath catching as he thought about the fact that she was about to be naked in his bed. He could turn around now, take her in his arms, and…

“Spike?”

He could hear tears in her voice again, and it went straight to his heart. “Yeah?”

“My…my shirt’s stuck.”

He frowned. “Stuck?”

“Too…too my skin. Where the burns are. I can’t…I can’t get it off.” She paused, and he heard her take a shuddering breath. “I need help.”

He turned to look at her and swallowed hard. “Yeah, I’ll help,” Spike said, then approached her, sitting beside her on the bed. He looked at her shoulder, finding that the shirt was indeed stuck to her burned skin. His hand hovered above her for a moment, trembling, before he finally pulled at the fabric. She hissed in pain but said nothing, and he realized with relief that he was going to be able to pull it away from her flesh.

He worked carefully, peeling away her ruined shirt until it was finally loose enough that he could pull it over her head. Her chest was bare now, and Spike’s stomach rolled when he saw how far down the water had run. Her breasts were covered in the same welts as the rest of her, and it looked…

Well, it looked really painful.

Spike swallowed hard but said nothing as he moved to her skirt, realizing that was going to take some work, too, since it had fused to her leg.

Her legs were worse than he’d realized, the backs of them covered in burns from where he’d left her sitting in holy water. In some places her skin was gone completely… “Is this going to heal?” he asked softly.

Her almost-whispered, “I don’t know,” made his head snap up. He’d been thinking aloud, forgetting where he was for a moment, too horrified by what he was seeing.

Spike almost apologized again. Instead, he took off her shoes.

He could see the full range of her injuries now, and it filled him with self loathing. He didn’t say anything as he took out the burn cream he’d bought, applying a healthy amount to her skin. Buffy sighed softly, her eyes closing and her mouth parting as she let him.

It would’ve been erotic if he had been able to think of anything other than how much he hated himself for what he’d done. “Does that help?” he asked, trying to ignore the fact that his hand was massaging her inner thigh.

“Yeah, it does,” Buffy said, unable to hold back a small moan of pleasure. Even with all the pain, his touch felt so good. As if he was soothing away the hurting he’d caused.

He wanted to kiss her. Her lips were parted, red and full, and he knew she’d taste exquisite. His hand still against her leg, he leaned forward, drawn to her.

And then pulled away. He couldn’t do this. She was a means to an end, and he was going to have to kill her soon anyway. If he touched her like that… It would only make what he’d eventually have to do harder.

“Hold up your arms,” he said, making her eyes snap back open. When she saw he had the nightgown, she did what he said, and he slipped the cool cotton shift over her head.

She felt better now. Still in pain, still something that would classify as miserable, but better. The nightgown was much more comfortable than her ruined top and skirt, and the burn cream did help some. She lay back down, snuggling up to a pillow. “I need to sleep more,” she said, her eyes sliding shut now that she could find some degree of comfort comfort.

“That’s fine, pet. I’ll be here if you need anything.”

“Mmmkay,” Buffy replied, already mostly asleep.

Spike watched her, his hand aching to touch her hair, her skin.

Instead, he picked up a magazine.

*** *** ***

Well, so many of you asked for it, so here it is – three posting days in a row. Does that mean I get reviews? *bats eyelashes*

Spike gasped, his gaze darting around the bathroom wildly as he pulled helplessly against the chains. He didn’t know how he’d gotten here, couldn’t remember letting his guard down enough to get in this position. He yelled in frustration, pulling on the chains again even though he knew he had no chance of breaking them.

“Shh… There’s no need to yell, baby. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

He looked up sharply, his breath catching in his chest at the sight of Buffy in the doorway. Her burns were gone, her skin flawless and pale again, set against the dark burgundy of the dress she wore. She was gorgeous, and Spike’s mouth watered, his hands aching to touch her.

“I’m only going to give you what you want,” Buffy told him as she walked slowly towards the bathtub, her hips swaying with an alluring rhythm Spike couldn’t help but be hypnotized by. She climbed into the tub with him, straddling his hips, her arms draped over his shoulders. “I know exactly what you want, William. What you crave.”

She ground herself against his crotch as she leaned in, her cool tongue licking straight up his neck. Spike moaned, thrusting his hips up, desperate for more of her. Buffy ran her hands down his chest, stopping at his waist, where she unbuttoned his jeans and pulled his erection out into her hands. Slowly, she raised her body up, positioning herself over his cock, and Spike held his breath as she slid down, pulling him into her body.

Fully seated inside of her, he moaned. Buffy responded with a Cheshire cat grin before she began to move, riding him at a ruthless pace, wringing both pain and pleasure from him. Spike was helpless, the chains allowing him to do nothing but stay still beneath her, at her mercy.

“Tell me you want it,” Buffy said in a breathy voice. “Tell me what you need, Spike. Tell me and I’ll give it to you.”

“Oh, Buffy…” Spike groaned, pitching his hips up. “I want it, pet. I do…”

She leaned her head in again and whispered against his ear. “What do you want, William?”

His answer was barely more than a whisper. “Peace…”

She sat upright on him again, and Spike watched as her beautiful, youthful features shifted into something demonic. With a hiss, she lunged down again, snarling into his neck as her fangs tore his skin, granting him sweet release.

Spike woke up panting, his body covered in sweat. He was sitting on the sofa bed, a half-read magazine spread across his lap. Buffy was beside him, curled up asleep, completely unaware of what was going on around her.

His hands trembled as he ran them through his hair, images from the dream he’d just had still vivid in his mind. The way it had felt to be inside of her… The way it had felt when she was inside of him…

He needed air. And nicotine. Spike got up from the bed, grabbing his cigarettes and lighter before he went outside. He lit a cigarette, then leaned against the balcony, taking long, unsteady drags as he attempted to calm his nerves.

He could no longer deny that he was attracted to her. It didn’t bother him that he found her physically attractive – after all, she was absolutely beautiful. What did bother him was that he was also attracted to what she was. He supposed he couldn’t do what he did without being at least a little bit in love with death, though it was never something that sat well with him. He hadn’t wanted to be a monster, and because of that, had always fought the attraction, resisted the desire to finally give in and no longer have to suffer the pain of living.

But one look from Buffy made him want to stop fighting anymore.

It would be the easy way out, but sometimes, he got so tired of always doing things the hard way.

And Buffy… Despite all the reasons he shouldn’t, he found himself wanting her. If it weren’t for her injuries, he may have already done something he’d regret, but he kept being stopped by the knowledge that using her body the way he wanted to would only cause her more pain in her current state. He hoped by the time she healed, he would’ve gotten more control over himself.

Although how he’d manage to do that when he was in such close quarters with her, he didn’t know.

He stubbed out his cigarette and went back into the apartment, the sight of her asleep in his bed taking his breath away. She looked so innocent in the white cotton shift he’d brought for her, nothing like the killer she truly was.

He knew in that moment, he’d never be able to dust her.

It went against everything he believed in, but when this was all over, he was letting her go. Even if the deaths of everyone she fed on afterwards were on his head, he knew he’d be able to handle that more than he would the knowledge that her blood was on his hands.

She stretched, made a tiny mewling sound, and Spike observed her with a sense of wonder – as if he were watching her come back to life. Her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled softly at him, making his heart constrict in his chest.

No, he could never hurt her again…

“Did you go somewhere?” Buffy asked as she set up in the bed, stretching her arms above her head. Her nightgown rose up, giving Spike a view of her thighs, and his eyes centered in on the one that had been least affected by the holy water. Her skin looked so smooth there, so soft. He knew it would feel good under his hands…or wrapped around his waist.

“I was just having a smoke. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s all right. I’ve been sleeping all day anyway. Sun’s almost down.” She lowered her arms. “Did…did you need me to let you put me back in the tub so you can get some rest?”

Her question made his heart hurt. He knew now what being in the tub did to her, and for her to offer to go back for him… “No, baby, you don’t have to go in there again,” he assured her. “I can sleep with you out here. I actually slept for a bit while you did.”

“Oh,” Buffy replied, the sound of him calling her “baby” making her feel all fluttery inside. “It’s okay if you do that, you know. I’m not gonna bite you in your sleep or anything…”

Spike blushed and looked down, the memory of the dream he’d had rushing back to him. “I know.” He cleared his throat, then looked up again. “Did you need more blood?”

“If you don’t mind,” Buffy replied.

“Not at all. I’ll heat it up for you.” Spike went over to the kitchenette, grateful to have something to do beside ask her if she’d bite him if he asked her nicely…

Buffy watched him as he prepared her dinner, her eyes carefully taking in everything he did. She could’ve sworn she’d smelled a flare of arousal from him when she’d mentioned biting, and she wondered if it was nothing more than wishful thinking. Because she’d certainly given more than a little thought to the idea of biting him. And not in the bad way…

He just looked so…tasty.

Soon, he came back to her with the blood, and Buffy smiled at him as she took it, murmuring her thanks before she began to drink.

He sat at the end of the bed, his eyes trailing over her legs again, only this time he was assessing her injuries. They didn’t appear to be getting better at all, a situation he found very troubling. “Do you want me to put some of the burn cream on you again?” he asked her.

“Please,” Buffy replied. She swallowed the rest of her blood, then set the mug on the floor. She was surprised when he took hold of the hem of her nightgown then, tugging it up, and urging her to let him slip it over her head. She knew she’d been nude the first time he’d applied the cream, but she hadn’t really expected him to want to be that way again. Though she supposed it made sense, since several of the burns would be covered otherwise.

He said nothing as he began to spread the cream on her skin, rubbing it into her sore legs and arms. When his hands traveled up her inner thighs, Buffy couldn’t help the hitch in her breath. His hands felt so good on her, soothing her aches even more than the cream itself. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to indulge in the fantasy for a moment that it was a lover’s caress.

She realized she may have let herself slip a little too far into fantasy when the feel of his hands on her breasts made her moan. Her eyes snapped open, and Spike learned that vampires could indeed blush.

“I’m…I’m sorry. You just…um…”

“It’s all right,” he assured her. “It’s…it’s a natural response.” His hand continued to stroke her breast, and Buffy was surprised to note that instead of pulling away in disgust like she’d expected, he was letting his touch linger. “Does that feel good, Buffy?”

She swallowed hard, but admitted softly, “Yeah.”

Spike realized he was moving into dangerous territory. He had the sudden urge to touch her in places he knew he shouldn’t, and his brain was justifying it for him, telling himself it would be a way to take her mind off the pain. If he could detach himself from the act, tell himself it was only because she needed to do something other than hurt…

“Would it help if I…” He swallowed hard. “Would it help if I kept touching you?”

Buffy couldn’t look in his eyes as she nodded and admitted softly, “Yes.”

Spike let out a shaky breath as he slipped his other hand between her legs. “Would it help if I touched you here?”

Buffy’s whole body trembled, part of her wanting to run from this. She shouldn’t be doing it, shouldn’t be asking this of him when she knew he wasn’t attracted to her at all. If he wanted to touch her, it was only because he pitied her, and she shouldn’t want that.

“Yes…”

His hand cupped her breast, rubbing it gently, no longer keeping up the pretense of applying the cream. He snaked a long finger inside of her body, stroking her tenderly before he moved to her clit, rubbing careful circles against the bundle of nerves.

Buffy panted, her body trembling beneath his hands. Never had a man treated her with such tenderness. It almost made her forget that he was the same one who had hurt her more than any other man, too. She moaned, her body thrusting weakly towards his touch.

Spike hadn’t really expected her to feel this good. He’d thought that despite his fantasies, once he actually touched her, he’d be reminded that her body was in fact dead. He’d expected her to be cold and clammy, a corpse beneath his fingers. And while her body certainly didn’t hold the heat of a human woman, he realized quickly that he’d been wrong in his assessment. She was soft, moist, and tight, and he strained with the desire to feel her inside with something other than his fingers.

The detachment he’d attempted to maintain had crumbled with his first touch. And now that she was moaning and writhing against him…

She came with a shout of his name, and Spike panted as he watched her. It was driving him crazy not to be inside her, and he pulled his hand away suddenly and got off the bed.

Buffy looked at him with hazy, confused eyes. Her chest rose and fell with shaky breaths, and Spike watched it for a moment before he snatched up her nightgown and thrust it at her, knowing it was the only way he’d be able to control himself at the moment.

He couldn’t take things further

He’d already taken them too far…

Buffy felt another wave of tears threaten to fall at the gruff way he shoved the gown at her, but she didn’t let them come. She was tired of hurting, tired of feeling weak. Instead, she took the nightgown and slipped it over her head, refusing to look at him.

She shouldn’t have made him do that. It had taken her mind off the pain for a little while, but now she only felt guilty. She knew she disgusted him, and now he probably hated her even more. Buffy curled up against the pillow, closing her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see the loathing on his face.

However, if Spike was loathing anyone at the moment, it was himself. He couldn’t believe he’d taken it that far, using her that way when she was in such a weakened state – a state he’d put her in. Just because she was a vampire didn’t give him the right to touch her like that. And now she couldn’t even stand to look at him. Not that he really blamed her…

The sight of her curled up, facing away from him killed the erection he’d gotten from touching her. Now all he felt was shame.

He needed to get away from her, needing to get some fresh air and some time to clear his head. The demon hunter in him told him he couldn’t leave her unattended, but the man in him couldn’t bring himself to chain her up again.

“If I step out for a bit, you won’t go anywhere, will you?”

Buffy looked up, her eyes shiny, and Spike felt even worse. “No.”

“If you kill anyone, I’d have to dust you.” The words hurt him to even say, but he felt he had to say them, to do at least much to ensure her good behavior. Buffy swallowed back a sob. “I…I know.”

He left the apartment without another word, and Buffy learned there was enough of her heart left to still break.

*** *** ***

Yes, four days in a row. I’m not sure I can make it for five, but I’ll try…

It was hours before Spike returned, but Buffy made no attempt to leave the apartment. The temptation to find someone to feed on was there, but she didn’t doubt Spike’s declaration he would stake her if he found out she’d done it. Granted, she could think of worse things than death at the moment, but she was determined to at least outlast Angelus. She wanted him to suffer for turning on her, and she would live long enough to see it. For years she’d accepted his poor treatment of her, deluded herself into thinking he loved her anyway. But now, she knew the truth, and she felt years of hidden resentment bubbling forth, driving her to finally seek revenge against the man who had killed her.

So she didn’t feed the way she truly wanted to. Instead, she drank several more mugs of animal blood, though she had a sinking feeling it would do little to truly heal her.

She’d never subsisted on anything but human blood, so she’d never had a chance to weigh the differences between that and any other sort; however, now, as she watched her body stubbornly refuse to heal the way it should, she knew that the blood she was drinking was vastly inferior to what she was used to.

Buffy wondered if there would be a point where it would be too late for her and no amount of human blood at all would heal her. She hated the thought of being scarred, half blind, forced to be so weak she could barely care for herself. It had been bad enough for a couple of days.

She’d gone back to the bed and was flipping through the channels when Spike came back. She saw a wince cross his face, and grabbed the blanket to cover herself up so he wouldn’t have to look at her. “I didn’t leave,” she told him, realizing as she spoke that she had a need for him to be happy with her, to be proud of her restraint. “I drank the animal blood you brought me.”

“Yeah, that’s good,” Spike replied, clearly distracted. He shifted uncomfortably for a moment by the door before he said, “Buffy, we need to talk.”

Buffy sat up straighter, fear gripping her. She knew she’d messed up bad by enjoying his touch so much. But could he really blame her for it? After all, he was a very attractive man, and clearly knew what he was doing when it came to pleasing a woman.

“Spike, please don’t be angry with me,” Buffy said before Spike had a chance to say anything else. “I’m really sorry I made you do that. It’s just…well, it felt good, and I’ve been hurting for days, so…” She looked down. picking at a stray thread on the blanket. “I know I promised you I wouldn’t do things like that. I’m sorry.”

“What?” Spike asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. “I did that to you, Buffy, not the other way around. You didn’t… I took advantage of you.”

“No, I took advantage of you,” Buffy insisted.

“No, I…” Spike stopped with a shake of his head. “Okay, this is getting silly.” He went over to the bed and sat beside her. “Did you enjoy what I did to you, pet?”

Buffy nodded, though she continued to look down and not at him.

“And did you want it?”

Another nod.

Spike smiled softly and ran his hand along the side of her hair, reveling in the softness of the golden strands. “Don’t feel bad about what happened, sweetheart. If it made you feel better…” He dropped his hand and looked away from her. “It’s the least I can do after what I did to you.”

“But I’m so ugly, Spike,” Buffy said. “You can’t possibly want to touch me. I’m…I’m disgusting.”

Spike looked up sharply, and his words came out forcefully. “You’re beautiful.”

If he’d said it any other way, she would’ve thought he was lying, but it was such a vehement denial of her statement that if gave her pause. “How can you say that? I mean, I haven’t exactly looked at myself in the mirror, but I can imagine how I must look.”

Spike shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. You’re gorgeous. Touching you was… Well, it definitely wasn’t a chore.” He gave her a small, almost shy smile.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I…I only left because I felt like I took advantage of you, and then I was going to apologize when I came back, but um…” He cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

Well, if he by some miracle actually wasn’t repulsed by her and had enjoyed touching her, well, who was she to deny him? “So, if you liked it, do you think maybe you could, um, do it again?” Buffy lowered her eyes and smiled seductively. “It did help with the pain.”

Spike swallowed, his heart thudding in his chest. Just because he hadn’t hurt the girl more didn’t mean he should keep this up. Yes, he found her beautiful, but that didn’t change the fact that she was a vampire. He really, really didn’t need to be having any degree of a sexual relationship with a vampire.

“Is it hurting real bad right now?” he asked her.

Buffy bit her lip and nodded.

“Lay on your back and hold up the bottom of your nightgown, kitten,” Spike said. “Nice an’ high to so I can get to your pussy.”

Buffy trembled as she did as he said, her hand gripping the soft cotton fabric tightly. She knew this whole situation was just getting crazier, but she couldn’t seem to bring herself to stop it. At least maybe she’d have some good memories of her final days when he ultimately staked her…

Spike ran his finger along her swollen nub, his cock jumping in his pants when the slight touch made her moan and jerk her hips. Knowing she really wanted this only served to make him hotter, and he wondered how he was going to fight the urge to take things farther than just pleasing her. She was clearly still in too bad of shape for anything past being passive while he pleasured her, and he wasn’t really sure that was a place he wanted to go anyway, given the nature of their relationship.

Still, he wasn’t satisfied with just his fingers. She was glistening, tantalizing, and he needed more. “Buffy?”

Her voice was shaky as she responded. “Yeah?”

“Would it be all right if I used my mouth on you?”

Buffy suppressed a moan at the mere thought. He had to ask that? “Yes,” she told him, her hips bucking again. “Please…”

Spike took a pillow and slid it under her bottom, then carefully spread her legs open, mindful of her wounds. He’d have to be gentle, make sure he was helping to take away her pain and not cause more. Once he had them both well situated, he lowered his head, breathing in her scent before giving her slit an experimental lick.

He couldn’t prevent the low moan that rumbled in his throat at his first taste of her. Never would he have expected a vampire to taste so damn good. Already he could foresee easily becoming addicted to her flavor, and he had to take a deep breath to calm himself before he set to work on her in earnest. He had to be gentle, had to keep himself restrained so he didn’t hurt her.

Even if all he wanted to do was feast on her until she screamed his name.

Instead, he tended to her with steady licks to her clit, listening to her pant and moan above him. Slowly, he slid two fingers inside of her, unable to stop himself from moaning, too, when he felt how tight she was. He wanted to pull out his cock and stroke himself in time with his fingers, but this was for her. This had to be for her.

“Spike…” she moaned above him, the sound of her saying his name while writhing in pleasure making him grow even harder. “Feels…feels so good. Don’t stop… Please, please don’t stop…”

Spike certainly had no intention of stopping. Even when she began to flutter around his fingers, signaling the beginnings of an orgasm, he kept up his steady pace, wanting to bring her off again. She made soft, strangled sobbing sounds, her body bucking against him, but she didn’t move to stop him, didn’t tell him it was too much, and Spike kept going.

The first orgasm had been a gentle one, but Buffy knew the next one was going to be much, much harder. Her body was going into overload, the pleasure from his tongue and fingers and the pain from her burns bringing too many sensations for her to handle. She vamped out, screamed his name, and ripped the sheets with her fingers.

Spike didn’t stop his onslaught until she went slack beneath him. He slid his fingers from her, licking off the juices before he looked up and asked, “Is that enough for now, kitten?”

“Yeah,” Buffy said through ragged pants. “Thank you…”

Spike tugged her nightgown back down, removed the pillow from under her, and pulled the sheet over her, his eyebrow arching as he noticed she’d ripped furrows in it with her nails. He guessed she really did get into that…

Buffy’s eyes closed, her body feeling languid from her orgasms. “Do you want to sleep some more?” Spike asked.

“Yeah. Tired now…” Buffy replied, snuggling down against the pillow.

Spike’s cock was threatening to burst through his jeans, and he glanced towards the bathroom door, knowing she wouldn’t give him any trouble if he went in there and took care of the problem. But she looked so inviting in the bed, and much to his surprise, he found the need to be with her stronger than his need to seek release. He took off his boots then got into the bed, carefully pulling her against him so as not to rub too hard against her burns.

Buffy turned in his arms, buried her face against his chest, and fell asleep with a smile on her face.

Spike held her, his fingers in her hair, as he wondered how he’d managed to bugger this up so entirely.

And what he was going to do now that he had.

*** *** ***

Buffy woke several hours later, still wrapped up in Spike’s arms. The room was pitch black, but she could make him out in the darkness, her preternatural senses allowing him to see his face – to see him watching her.

“I ache,” she told him in a whisper, before taking his hand and guiding it down beneath the sheets, between her legs. Spike slid a finger in her without question, pumping it in and out while his thumb circled her clit.

The first touch of their lips was tender, hesitant, but it soon grew in passion, Spike’s free hand clutching the unburned side of her face to keep her against him. She moaned into his mouth, bucked against his hand, and he knew just how gone he was.

Right and wrong didn’t matter anymore. Who he was, who she was – none of it mattered.

The only thing that did matter was he was drowning in her.

She broke away from his lips when she came, giving one soft, strangled cry as she clenched hard around his finger.

“Did that help the ache?” Spike asked as he slowly pulled his hand away from her.

“Yes,” Buffy said, the word coming out with a puff of breath. “Your touch… Oh, Spike…”

“Buffy…” he whispered before taking her lips again, tasting the salt of her tears on them as he kissed her gently, aware – always aware – of the wounds he’d inflicted. Impossible dreams of a life they could never share crept into his thoughts, and he cursed fate for making his heart feel alive again for a woman who was already dead.

Buffy broke away from his lips, looked into his eyes, and knew what he was thinking. “Don’t, Spike. Not…not now. Just pretend with me for a little while, okay?”

In that moment, he couldn’t deny her anything. She pulled his lips to hers again, and he kissed her in the dark.

Buffy woke up to the scent of blood. She opened her eyes to see Spike hovering over her, a mug in his hand. “Wake up and drink this, Buffy.”

She sat up, stretching groggily, but took the mug from him. At the first touch of it on her lips, her eyes bulged, and she pushed the mug back towards him. “This is human. I can’t drink this. You said I can’t…”

“I said you can’t kill anyone,” Spike said, pushing the mug back towards her. “Drink that.”

“No.”

“Bloody buggering hell, Buffy,” Spike snapped at her. “I’m not going to hurt you for drinking it. And I went through all the trouble to knock over a sodding hospital, so really, drink it before I get pissed off.”

“You…you stole blood from a hospital for me? Why?”

He gestured to the angry wounds still covering her body. “Because clearly, the animal blood isn’t doing you enough good. You need human. So drink it.”

Buffy took the mug back, though she eyed him warily as she sipped from it. It tasted so good she wanted to devour it, but the sudden change in his blood policy had her wary. “Is this ‘cause you’ve been getting me off? Because you don’t have to do anything differently just because…”

“Would you shut up and drink the damn blood?” Spike snapped. “Geez, stop being such a woman and overanalyzing every little thing I do.”

Buffy’s eyebrow arched. “I am a woman, Spike.”

“Just drink the damn blood.”

She sighed, but continued to drink anyway. Clearly the idea of bringing her human blood bothered him, but he was right – the animal blood wasn’t good enough for the amount of healing she needed to do.

As soon as she’d finished the first mug, he was handing her another one, and Buffy took this one without hesitation. Her whole body was crying out in relief as the blood filled her, and she knew she’d soon feel the tingling that came with her body knitting itself back together.

But what had her spirits raising even more was knowing now that she meant something to him.

Still, he seemed fairly jumpy this morning, and she decided not to bring up what had happened the night before. She didn’t know how comfortable he was with how he’d touched her, now in the harsh light of day, and she decided it would be better not to push things.

She just hoped she’d get to feel him inside of her just once before this was all over and he dusted her…

Spike gruffly took the empty mug from her and thrust a third one into her hands. “How much do you expect me to drink?” Buffy asked, though she didn’t reject the extra blood. After days of that pig swill, the human tasted even better than usual.

“I want you to get better,” Spike replied. “You’re taking too long to heal, and I don’t want to risk the chance of Angelus going somewhere else before I can get to him.”

Buffy frowned, surprised by how much his words hurt. She should’ve known his main focus would be getting to Angelus, but she’d still thought that his decision to start feeding her human blood had been because he cared.

Which she realized now was a very stupid notion. Of course he didn’t care. She was reading too much into everything. All the sex stuff from the day before was probably just because he was horny and she was a body, even if she didn’t think he’d actually gotten off from it. Though for all she knew, he could’ve beaten off in the bathroom or something right afterwards.

This was all confusing her way too much. He was gentle with her one minute, and yelling at her the next. She had no idea where she stood, especially given the fact she had no doubt in her mind that he planned to kill her in the end. Things had never been this complicated with Angelus. He went hot and cold, too, but it hadn’t taken her long to figure out his moods and just write them off as how he was.

Spike, on the other hand, was much less predictable. She had no clue how he was going to act from one moment to the next.

After the fifth mug of blood, she stopped him, insisting it was enough for the time being. She felt full, and she knew she’d heal better if she rested now and then drank more. Spike took the empty mugs and the remainder of the blood to the kitchenette, putting the blood in the fridge and cleaning out the mugs.

He continued to move around the sink, wiping the area down with a towel and rinsing out the sink itself, despite the fact that it was already quite clean. Buffy could see the muscles tensing in his back, and she bit her lip, wishing she knew what she was supposed to do in a situation like this.

“Spike?”

He jumped at the sound of her voice, then turned around. “Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

“I…” He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “I didn’t like what I had to do. With the blood stealing. I tried to tell myself that it wasn’t much different from using it for a transfusion since you did need it, but…” He trailed off and looked down.

“But I’m a vampire, so I don’t really deserve it,” Buffy added quietly.

Spike winced. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Spike didn’t say anything else, knowing she was right – that had been the line of thinking he’d been following, though he hadn’t put it in quite those words. Feeding a vampire human blood of any kind still felt wrong to him, though now he felt guilty for wanting to deny it to Buffy.

It made his head spin.

“Is it going to help, though?” he asked.

Buffy nodded. “It will. It’ll be better than the animal blood, that’s for sure. I don’t think it’ll do as good as fresh from a body, but…” She trailed off at the look of horror on his face. “Geez, Spike, calm down. I wasn’t about to ask you to bring me someone to bite. I was just…” She looked down and finished with a grumbled, “Never mind.”

“Sorry, Buffy. I’m just not used to being on friendly terms with a vampire.”

His statement made her look up again. “Are we on friendly terms?”

“I still remember what you taste like when you come on my tongue, so I’m thinking we’re not exactly on unfriendly ones.”

His answer made her tremble. And he was mentioning what had happened, so did that mean… She looked up at him with a smile than managed to be both shy and seductive. “Well, then, if we’re friends and all… Did you want to…y’know…help me with the pain again.”

He knew he shouldn’t. Things had gotten out of hand the night before, and Spike had done things he had no business doing to a vampire. But, fuck the woman made him hard as nails with just a look. He swallowed, then approached the bed. “Do you want my fingers or my mouth?”

“Can I have a little bit of both?” Buffy asked.

“Greedy bint,” Spike admonished, though he spoke with a low chuckle and quickly worked to arrange her in a more comfortable position.

Buffy’s only response was a happy sigh as his tongue wrapped around her clit, his fingers slid into her body, and her hand tangled in his platinum curls.

*** *** ***

Though the television was on, Buffy couldn’t seem to muster up an interest in the program. Instead, she was mesmerized by the steady thumping of Spike’s heart as she rested against his chest. She’d had very little contact with humans that weren’t food in the years since being turned, and she certainly hadn’t spent any time cuddling with them.

So to listen to a heart beating in a rhythm other than one of fear, to feel the heat of a warm lover’s body against hers – if was a truly new sensation for her.

One thing did bother her, however. Spike had made her come again and again, and yet, every time, his pants stayed firmly on. She could tell he was aroused, but he didn’t ask her to do anything, and after the last time, he’d stayed right beside her, so she knew he hadn’t done anything on his own either.

She chewed on her bottom lip as she tried to decide what to do. She felt bad, being the only one to reap any of the benefits of whatever this was they had going on. Maybe he was just worried she’d say no, and didn’t want to push things… Deciding to act on that theory, Buffy let her hand creep down to the front of his jeans.

He picked it up and moved it away with a stern, “Don’t.”

She looked up at him with a frown. “Why not? You’re…”

He shook his head, silencing her. “It’s not a good idea.”

“But why? You…you said I was still pretty. Did…did you not mean it?”

Spike sighed heavily. “Buffy, look. You’re…”

Buffy slid away from him, a sad pout on her face. “No, you don’t have to say anything else. I get it.”

“Clearly, you bloody don’t, or you wouldn’t be looking like someone just kicked your puppy,” Spike responded. “It’s not because I’m not attracted to you. Bloody hell, woman, how many times do I have to tongue you to orgasm before you get that crazy notion out of your head?”

Buffy looked up sharply at that, and Spike couldn’t help but chuckle at the expression on his face. He held his arm out to her, motioning for her to come back to rest against this chest again. “Come here, you silly little bint.” When she did, he kissed her on the top of her head. “It’s not because I don’t want you. I do. In all honesty, I wish I didn’t, but it’s a little too late for that now. It’s because I want you too much. If you touch me, desperate as I am for you now, I’m going to lose control, and you’re still too tender for that.”

“Oh. So you wanna…when I’m better, I mean, you want to…”

He knew it hadn’t been too long ago since he’d been internally debating a response to that question, but after having the pleasure of touching her, of tasting her… “God, yes,” Spike said, his tone rivaling a growl from any of her species. “First chance I get, I’m gonna make you feel so good…”

Buffy responded by reaching up and grabbing the back of his head, forcing his mouth down on hers. Spike groaned, nipping at her lips before he slipped his tongue inside. He lost himself in the kiss, forgetting everything except how she made him feel.

His hands slid down her sides, until they were gently resting on her bottom. Buffy panted against him, the feel of him touching her making her want more. She climbed in his lap, straddling his hips, her nightgown riding up as she ground down against his denim-covered erection.

Spike groaned, his hands running up her back, under the gown, feeling her un-burned skin there. It was so soft, like cool silk. “Oh Buffy,” he moaned against her lips. “I need…” He pulled away from her, met her eyes so she’d know he meant what he was about to say. “Bite me.”

Buffy gaped at him, her mouth open and closing like a fish. “You…what…?”

“Bite me,” Spike said again, the plea hot and needy. “You need the blood.”

She knew this could end badly for her, but his offer was too tempting. It had been days since she’d had her fangs in a human, and he smelled so good. She snarled, her face shifting to demonic before she dove down, piercing the flesh of his neck.

Searing pain flared through his body, only to be followed by intense pleasure as Buffy began to drink from him. She moaned into his neck, writhing in his lap, pushing against his erection. Spike gripped the mattress, his head dipped back in a silent cry of ecstasy.

His orgasm took him completely by surprise, and he cried out, bucking hard into her.

Buffy stopped her feeding then, gently licking his wounds closed, making Spike shudder with even more pleasure. He panted as he came down, in shock that he’d enjoyed that the way he had. It was easily the most erotic experience of his life.

“Are you okay?” Buffy asked, her palms flat against his chest, feeling his fluttering heartbeat.

“I’m…” Spike shook his head, at a complete loss for words for how to describe the experience. Finally, he settled on grabbing her face and pulling her in for a kiss, rolling the taste of his own blood around on his tongue. “I never knew a bite could be like that,” he said as he broke away. He gave her a crooked smile. “I’m going to have to change my jeans.”

Buffy looked at him with a shy smile, her eyes hooded. “I wanted to make it special for you, Spike.”

Spike smiled back at her, stroked her cheek with his thumb. “You did, kitten. Fuck, I… Bleedin’ hell, girl.”

“I wouldn’t bite you to hurt you, you know,” Buffy said, caressing his chest. She licked his cheek, nibbled at his ear, then whispered, “I only want to make you feel good.”

“Oh, god, Buffy, I love you. I love you so bloody much.”

Buffy gasped, pulled back to meet his eyes, and Spike realized what he’d said.

“You…you love me?”

Spike considered denying it. He hadn’t meant to say it, hadn’t even realized it was true until the words were out of his mouth. But they were true, even if he didn’t understand it at all. Somehow, he’d managed to fall for this woman before he’d even seen it coming. It bollixed up everything in his life, but even that didn’t make it any less true. “Yeah, I guess I do.” He shrugged and gave her a boyish, nervous grin. “Didn’t see that coming.”

“Oh.” Buffy looked down. “I wish you didn’t.”

Her response was like a cold splash of water, though it only served to reinforce the truth of his declaration – her rejection cut too deeply for him to be feeling anything else. “I…I didn’t mean to fall, Buffy.”

“I know,” Buffy replied, moving her hands off him, though she stayed in his lap. “But it’s only going to make it hard for you when you have to stake me.”

“Oh, kitten,” Spike said, wrapping his arms around her and bringing her to rest against his chest as what had seemed like a rejection suddenly made sense to him. “I’m not going to stake you, baby. I’m never going to hurt you again.”

“But…but you have to. You said you have to,” Buffy said, moving out of his arms. “I…I’m a vampire, and you kill vampires.”

“Yeah, I’m really not sure how this is going to work,” Spike admitted, scratching the back of his head as he pondered their dilemma. “All I know is you’ve managed to capture my heart; I want to keep you for myself.”

“I don’t know if I can stop feeding, Spike. I mean, you’re really yummy, but…”

Spike silenced her with a kiss. “Let’s not worry about that stuff right now, okay? We’ll work it out after Angelus is dead.”

“You’re being optimistic.”

“I just had the best orgasm of my life. I feel like I could rule the bloody world.”

“Really? The best?” Buffy asked, grinning.

“Oh yeah.”

“You should see what it feels like when I bite you while you’re fucking me.” Buffy told him, her grin morphing into a teasing smirk.

Spike groaned, her words his undoing. “Oh, god, kitten. Want you. Want you now…”

“Yes, yes,” Buffy panted, letting Spike roll her over onto her back. He grabbed her legs, hoisted them up…

And she cried out in pain.

Spike jumped away from her, a horrified look on his face. “Buffy…I… I’m so sorry, baby.”

She winced, but pulled herself up so she was sitting. “It’s okay,” she assured him, reaching out to take his hand where he now stood next to the bed. “I guess we both just got a little carried away.”

“You should probably rest more. Let that fresh human blood do some good.” He winked at her.

Buffy stretched against the sheets, letting his hand slip from hers, though she had a smile on her face. “Best meal I’ve had in a long time.”

Spike wondered if that should bother him, but somehow, it only managed to make him want her more. He didn’t know what it was about this woman that changed how he saw everything, how he felt about everything. In only a few short days, she’d turned his whole world on his head, made him love what he’d spent so long hating.

He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “Sleep, baby. Let those burns heal. I’m going to take a shower, and then I’ll come take a nap with you, all right?”

“Okay.” Buffy turned away from him, hugging the pillow. Spike started for the bathroom, though he stopped when he heard her soft voice call out his name.

“Spike?”

“Yeah, kitten?”

“I think I love you, too.”

Spike grinned broadly, those words enough for him now, and Buffy shyly smiled back.

*** *** ***

Buffy couldn’t sleep as she listened to the water running in the shower. Her thoughts were going too fast, what had just transpired between herself and Spike keeping her from being able to rest.

She had no idea how she’d gotten into this situation. Only a few days ago, she’d been certain she was in love with Angelus and they would be together forever. Literally.

Now, she was falling hard for someone else. A human. A human who hunted her kind. She should be more worried about killing him before he killed her, and yet the very thought of hurting him made her feel sick. And on top of that, she believed him completely when he said he had no further intentions of staking her.

But what was that going to mean for them? She had a feeling Spike wouldn’t be happy with her feeding on humans. She knew she could either promise to only feed on animal blood or possibly get him to agree to her feeding but not killing, but either one of those would be nearly impossible for her to adhere to. She was, at her core, a predator. Granted, she knew she wasn’t nearly as vicious as many of her kind, and some things Angelus had done had downright disturbed her, but she was still a vampire. Humans were food to her, and she’d never had a problem with that.

But Spike had a problem with it. Buffy worried her bottom lip between blunt teeth, wondering if she’d really be capable of changing everything she was in order to make Spike happy. She wanted to make Spike happy. Holy water bath aside, he’d treated her better than anyone had in a very long time. He made her feel cherished and wanted – something Angelus had always denied her.

And something had happened in this apartment, something Buffy couldn’t explain and didn’t truly understand, though she couldn’t deny it either. Despite the circumstances of their meeting, she and Spike had managed to make a connection, to find something in each other they’d been searching for. She’d known the first moment he touched her in something other than anger that everything had just changed.

But once they left the apartment…

Buffy didn’t doubt for a moment what she was feeling was love. It had come on suddenly and caught her completely off guard, but it was too strong to be anything else. However, she wasn’t naïve enough to think it was going to work either. As much as she wanted Spike, she knew once he was done with his revenge, everything would change for them yet again. They’d have to try to live in the real world together, not shut off like they were now.

That, Buffy knew, would never work.

For starters, not only would she have to give up feeding, but he would have to give up hunting her kind. She was no more comfortable with the idea of sharing a bed with a man who hunted down and dusted vampires than he was with her feeding from humans. What if he dusted one of her friends?

And how long would it be until they stopped getting along? Right now, things seemed okay, but Buffy knew that was probably because there was so much sexual tension between them. It was hard to argue with a man who was eating you out until you saw stars. But what if they tried for an actual relationship? How long would it be until their two words collided? Would they end up only resenting each other?

A sinking feeling settled in the pit of her stomach as Buffy realized what they had was completely and irrevocably doomed.

The only chance they had was something Buffy didn’t even want to consider. She knew it was something Spike wouldn’t want, and the idea of doing it to him anyway made her ill. In the quarter of a century she’d spent as a vampire, she’d never turned anyone, and she never planned to. Her own turning had been horrific, full of fear and pain, and she’d never do that to Spike.

Honestly, she wasn’t even sure how to do it. She knew the basics – she drank from him, he drank from her. That part would be easy. But there were so many nuances to it, so many rules for how to make a minion versus a childe, how much blood to give to determine when the fledgling would wake up – and then of course all the debates over whether it was best to follow ritual, or if vampires in a modern era no longer needed all of that.

Angelus had tried to explain it to her once, and it had all made her head spin.

She wished they could just stay locked away in the apartment forever, forgetting about the outside world. She liked it here. Despite what she’d endured in the bathroom, she felt safe and warm now, wrapped up in Spike-scented sheets.

The shower went off, and soon after, the bathroom door opened. Spike walked out into the main room, using a towel to dry himself off, though he hadn’t bothered to actually cover up. It was the first glimpse Buffy had gotten of his entire body, and she was far from disappointed. He was gorgeous. And hung like a stallion…

She didn’t want to think about the inevitable time in the future when she’d have to give him up. Not now. Now she just wanted to enjoy the time they had.

Spike dropped the towel and slid under the sheets with her, bringing her into his arms. The holy water had done more damage to her front than her back, and as long as she was mindful of her legs, it was easy to let him hold her like this, to stay pressed against his warm body. She could hear the steady beat of his heart, feel his breath stirring against her hair, and it calmed her, lulled her into a peaceful state she hadn’t known in years.

“Are you feeling any better?” he asked, his hand gently ghosting over her arm.

“Yeah. The burns are all itchy, like they’re healing up.” She squirmed in his arms. “The skin’s pulling, too.”

Spike kissed her temple. “I’m glad you’re starting to heal. Sorry it’s itching and pulling, though.”

“At least it’s a good sign.” Buffy snuggled closer to him, feeling his erection nudging against her, resting between her thighs. She hummed low in her throat, enjoying the comfort in the intimate moment.

“Do you like being a vampire?”

His question took her completely by surprise, seeming to her to have come from nowhere. She turned in his arms, the quiet moment she’d been enjoying shattered. “Huh?”

“I’ve never really talked to a vampire before,” Spike admitted. “There tends to just be fighting and then dust. I never really gave a lot of thought to how they feel or what they think about. I just saw them all as monsters. But then I met you, and it made me start thinking about what vampires are like past the blood and the fangs. I always assumed they just focused on feeding and that was it. But you… Well, you don’t really seem very happy.”

“I think I used to be,” Buffy said. “Maybe. I know…I know I was before I was turned. And then sometimes, things with Angelus were pretty good. I guess. Looking back, I don’t know.” She sighed, moving out of his arms, though not away from him.

“He could be really cruel. The beginning…the beginning was especially bad. He kept me for several days before he turned me, did things to me that I…” She stopped, swallowed hard. “It was difficult. I was sixteen, and he was… When he finally turned me, I was still terrified, even after I woke up. But eventually, things calmed down, and I realized I loved him. I mean, he didn’t do it to hurt me. Not really. He just…he just wanted to keep me.”

Spike hadn’t thought it was possible for him to hate Angelus anymore, but as he listened to Buffy, he realized he’d been wrong. He could only begin to imagine what Angelus would’ve done to a sixteen year old girl he’d had at his mercy.

He could also imagine what Buffy had been like then. The vampire he’d met in the alley had been tough, but the girl he knew now…she was something else. She was…

She was broken. And he’d done it to her.

“Spike?”

“Yes, love?”

“What…what happened with you wife? When did Angelus kill her?”

Spike didn’t want to talk about Drusilla. He’d never liked talking about her death, and had always had to be incredibly drunk in the past in order to spill. But he knew that after Buffy had answered his question – at least to an extent – he owed her an answer to one of her own as well.

“Ten years ago. I was twenty-four, and Dru and I were newly married. We were madly, blissfully in love.” A small, bittersweet smile formed on his face, and Buffy tried to suppress the rush of jealousy she felt.

Spike’s smile faded away when he began to speak again. “But then she changed. She became paranoid, terrified constantly. Kept insisting a demon was after her, tormenting her. She’d tell me stories of things that happened while she was out, or when I was at work, and…well, they seemed crazy. She begged me to do things like call a priest to bless the house, put garlic at all the doors and windows, hang crosses on every wall, and I didn’t. I…I didn’t believe her at all. She kept getting more and more hysterical until she was rambling on about the Devil, refusing to sleep or leave the house. I thought she was insane.”

He let out a deep, shuddering breath, his eyes closing as he relived the painful memory. “I worked late a lot then, even though she’d beg me not to leave her alone after dark. But I did, and I came home one night to… She was dead. She was on the couch, her neck torn out. I ran to her, picked her up, and there was nothing, no pulse, no breath. And then he was there, standing over me, taunting me.

“I still don’t know how I survived that night. Angelus came after me, but somehow, I managed to escape. I got to a neighbor’s house, who called the police, but by the time they got there, Angelus was long gone – not that they would’ve done any good anyway. From that moment on, I became obsessed with hunting him down, of hunting down any vampire I could find.”

Buffy pulled further away from him, her head ducked down, and Spike felt a cold wash of dread that he’d said too much. He didn’t know how she felt about the fact he killed her kind, and he didn’t want to lose whatever this was they were building because he’d reminded her of it. “Buffy? What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asked.

“It’s my fault, Spike,” she said.

Her words were whispered, yet Spike managed to hear them nonetheless. “What’s your fault, pigeon?”

“What happened to your wife.”

Spike froze, her assertion far from what he’d expected. “How so?”

“I… I left him. Angelus and I…we broke up for a while, about ten years ago. And…and it had to be the same time, because I don’t remember any of what you just said. He…well…I met his sire, and she looked so much like me, that it made me think he only turned me to replace her or something, and I got angry, and we had this big fight, and I…I left for a while. It must’ve…it must’ve made him want to really hurt someone, and he picked your wife. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Buffy,” Spike said, pulling her back into his arms. “It’s not your fault. You can’t blame yourself for what Angelus did. He killed Drusilla because that’s what he wanted to do, not because you left him.”

“But if I hadn’t left…”

“Not your fault,” Spike insisted.

Buffy looked up hesitantly. “You really don’t blame me?”

“No, baby. Not at all.”

Fear abated, Buffy sighed, visibly relaxing. Spike pulled her against his chest again, softly rubbing her back as he pressed gentle kisses against her hairline. She felt so good in his arms, her skin warming from his touch, making him forget what she was completely.

He wanted to take her away, find someplace where they could hide away from the rest of the world. He was determined to make things work, to find a way to keep her with him.

But he had to do this one last thing first. He had to kill Angelus. Even if he had done the impossible and found love a second time, he still owed it to Drusilla to finish what he’d started. He had to be able to finally put an end to that chapter of his life.

Then, he could finally start another.

Spike felt good. He was hovering on the edge of sleep and wakefulness, Buffy’s slight body pressed tightly to his as they lay entwined on the bed. She made a low, rumbling sound of pleasure as she nuzzled against his neck, licking and nipping the marks she’d left when she’d bitten him. It amazed him to note that her attentions were sending shocks of pleasure straight to his cock, and he groaned, tilting his neck to give her better access.

“Let me, Spike,” she whispered, her words hot as they blew against his ear. “Let me taste you again.”

He could feel the ridges in her forehead as she rubbed against him, and knew without any doubt that he was in bed with a demon. But that didn’t stop his desire for her, didn’t stop him from wanting to give her whatever she asked for. “Yes…” he moaned, surrendering to the sensual pleasure of her touch.

She rolled them over, straddling his waist. She lifted her head, a low growl rumbling through her small frame before she dove in towards his neck, biting over her own marks, and Spike bucked up, shouting in pained pleasure.

Buffy moaned, shifted her hips.

He slid inside of her…

Spike gasped, no doubt in his mind where the first few inches of his cock were now. He waited for her to pull up, to tell him to stop, or that she was too sore.

When she didn’t, he wrapped his hands around her hips and pushed up, sliding further into her body.

Buffy whimpered against his neck, but kept drinking, even as he began to lightly thrust, moving his cock in and out of her tight channel. She felt even better than he had imagined, his own body heat and the friction from their movements heating her up on the inside, warming her flesh.

He pushed his hips up off the bed, driving his cock all the way in, and Buffy’s fangs slid deeper into his flesh. Spike’s head was spinning, his body no longer able to separate pain and pleasure. All he knew was he wanted more of this…more of her.

She jerked up suddenly, her blood-stained lips falling open as she arched her back, coming around him with a strangled cry. Spike grabbed her hair, pulled her down to his lips and tasted his own blood as he kissed her. He used his free hand to push her hips down, holding her still on top of him as he groaned into her mouth and came hard.

Spike panted heavily, his hands falling to his sides as he came back down to earth. Buffy slid her mouth from his back to his neck, gently licking the wounds she’d given him until the bleeding had stopped. Then, she shifted, settling her head against his chest, sighing in contentment as Spike’s hand came up to stroke her hair.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I, baby?” Spike asked, his genuine concern apparent in his voice. “I didn’t mean for that to happen until you were better.”

“I am feeling better,” Buffy assured him. “I still have some healing left to do, but I don’t hurt like I did. And that…that felt good. Really good.”

Spike smiled. “I’m glad. It felt good for me, too. When you bite me…” He shook his head. “That’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever felt.”

“I’m glad. I try to make it good for you. When…when Angelus bit me before I was turned, it just hurt. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’ve never hurt me, Buffy. I’m the one who’s…”

Buffy lifted her head and put her finger to Spike’s mouth. “Shh… Don’t now, baby. Don’t worry about any of it. It’s all already been forgiven.”

“I don’t know how you can give me that. You never deserved to suffer for his crimes. Not after what he did to you.”

She smirked at him. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. I’m sure I deserved it for something.”

“Sweetheart…”

“Not so sweet,” Buffy insisted, hovering over him now. He could barely make out her face in the darkness, but her eyes were glinting, and he was fairly certain they were both clear now. “I’m very, very wicked.”

She slid down his body, engulfing his cock with her mouth before Spike could guess what she was about to do. He cried out in surprise, his hands digging in the sheets as he fought the urge to force her head down further.

It turned out he didn’t need to. Buffy slid down, and Spike’s eyes widened as he realized she was bringing him all the way in to the hilt. Never had a woman been capable of deepthroating him like this, and he let out a low string of curses, his breath coming out in fevered pants.

Buffy glanced up at him, smirking to herself at his expression before she began to swallow, her throat muscles milking every inch of him.

“Fuck!” Spike yelled, unable to keep his hips from bucking. He’d never given any thought to this particular use of a vampire’s lack of need for oxygen, but he was definitely glad for it now. Buffy was giving him the best damn blowjob of his life.

He moaned as her tiny hand wrapped around his balls, squeezing him tight enough to be just on the pleasure side of pain. He closed his eyes, panting heavily as his body rushed towards another mind numbing orgasm.

Suddenly, a low vibration surrounded him, and for a moment, Spike was too dazed to figure out what it was. Then, he realized what she was doing. Purring. Around his cock.

He blacked out when he came, the pleasure so intense that he didn’t know anything else. Her name was a roar ripped from his throat, and Buffy trembled at the sound of it, even as she drank him down.

She was beside him again, licking and nibbling at his chest when Spike was cognizant again. “Bleedin’ fuck, kitten,” he swore, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I gave you one of those,” Buffy replied with a giggle before softly biting his nipple.

Spike chuckled, his hand shaking as he brought it up to rest against her back. “I never knew vampires could purr,” he told her, his cock twitching slightly at just the memory of how that had felt.

“Only when we’re really, really happy,” Buffy replied.

“And sucking my cock makes you that happy?” Spike asked.

“Oh yeah,” Buffy said, the words forming a moan. “You taste sooo good. I don’t know what tastes better, your cum or your blood.”

Spike grabbed the back of her head and pulled her to him, growling out, “God, I love you,” before he crashed her lips down on hers.

Buffy purred again.

*** *** ***

The next time Buffy woke, she felt a significant difference in her body. While the pain was still present, it was nowhere near as intense as it had been, and she found that she could actually find a position that was comfortable.

The fact that that position was curled up in Spike’s arms certainly didn’t hurt matters.

He was still sleeping, and Buffy took the opportunity as her first to explore his features without interruption. He looked younger like this, the creases that usually lined his face gone in sleep. He was simply…beautiful. Buffy knew her former lover had been said to have the face of an angel, but the man she was looking at now had far more angelic features in her eyes. His high cheekbones and full lips were the most perfect she’d ever seen. In fact, the only imperfection she could find on his face at all was the scar that cut through his eyebrow, and even that did nothing for her but add to his allure.

She ran her fingertips over the mark, learning its contours. Spike shifted in his sleep before taking her hands and pulling them in under the covers, close to his body. “Cold hands,” he mumbled, his eyes still closed.

“Sorry,” Buffy replied.

“Mmm…s’okay. Means I get to warm them.” Spike pulled her closer, nuzzling against her hair as he rubbed her hands with his. “Soft hands, too…”

Buffy smiled and snuggled closer to him. She certainly didn’t feel cold when she was with him. She felt… His cock prodded her thigh and she let out a shuddering breath.

She felt hot…

“Spike,” she whispered as she ran her foot along his calf. “Wake up. I wanna have sex.”

Spike hummed low in contentment. “Yeah…sex would be good.” He rolled over onto his back, bringing Buffy with him and setting her astride hips. His eyes opened then, and he met hers with a smirk. “Ride me good and hard, kitten.”

Buffy’s answering grin was wicked, and she grasped his cock, stroking it firmly before she lowered her body down onto it, pulling him into her tight channel. Her wetness beckoned to him, making him thrust his hips up hard, wanting to feel every inch of him inside of her.

Buffy bucked as his cock slid roughly into her, Spike now buried to the hilt. She groaned and rotated her hips, situating herself until she found a better angle. “You’re so big,” she told him with a moan, her eyes sliding shut, her tongue running over her lips. She looked as if she were savoring him, and it only made Spike want her more. “Biggest I’ve ever had…”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.” Buffy opened her eyes and met his gaze. They were both green now, the damage to her face significantly less than it had been, and for that Spike was grateful. He wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if he’d caused her beautiful face to be marred forever.

He wanted to see all of her, to be assured she was healing, that what he’d done wasn’t permanent. He gripped the bottom of her nightgown, tugging it up, though Buffy reached down, stilling her hips as she stopped him from lifting the gown up any further. “No.”

Spike frowned. “I want to see you, kitten.”

“But I’m not completely healed yet,” Buffy protested.

“Doesn’t matter,” Spike said, shaking his head. “I still need all of you.”

Buffy hesitated for a moment longer before she brought her nightgown up over her head and tossed it onto the floor. Spike noted with relief that her chest did look significantly less burned than it had been, then he grabbed the back of her head and pulled her to his lips.

The kiss was passionate, bruising, and Buffy moaned into his mouth, her control hanging by a thread.

His teeth took her bottom lip, just hard enough to draw blood, and that thread snapped.

She sat upright again, her green eyes fading into gold as her hips moved faster, harder. The constricting muscles of her pussy clamped down on him tight enough for the sensation to border on pain, and Spike struggled to keep from coming too soon.

But she was driving him wild… She snarled as she rode him, her rhythm unrelenting. He’d never allowed himself to linger on the thought of being fucked hard by a demon before, but he realized as he indulged in the repressed fantasy now, just how much he’d wanted it.

“Yes, yes, Buffy, yes…” he hissed, his hands fisting in the sheets. “Do it hard, baby. Make it hurt.”

A wicked gleam flashed in her amber eyes before Buffy leaned down, her hips still working him at a grueling pace as she began to nip at his chest, her fangs sinking in just enough to draw blood. Spike cursed, each sting of pain to his flesh intensifying the feeling of being inside of her, until his balls drew up and he knew he couldn’t hold out any longer.

“Buffy, I…oh fuck, pet, I’m so close…I…”

Buffy jerked upright, riding him at a dizzying pace, her hand moving between her legs as she rubbed her clit, bringing herself off before he could finish. Her orgasmic cry echoed off the walls, her muscles drew in tighter around him, and Spike bellowed, coming harder than he remembered ever doing before.

Buffy slumped against his chest, taking a moment to come down before she began to bathe his chest with kittenish licks, humming in approval at the light tinge of blood her soft bites had given his skin.

Spike, on the other hand, could barely move, his body feeling as if she’d just managed to short-circuit him. He panted heavily, his heart thudding in his chest.

Buffy’s fangs retreated as she moved her mouth up his body, licking his neck and then nibbling his ear. “Are you okay, baby?”

“Yeah, I…” Spike let out a shuddering breath and found the strength to rest his hand against the small of his back. “That was fucking incredible, Buffy. You…wow.”

“Mmm…you like my demon side, don’t you, Spike? Is that your secret kink? Getting it rough from a vamp?”

A week ago, he would’ve denied it. Instead, he replied with, “When the vamp’s you, yeah.”

Buffy smiled against his skin, his answer filling her with a warmth she’d forgotten how to feel. “There’s so many things I could do to you, Spike. I could make you forget there’s a difference between pleasure and pain.”

Spike moaned at her words, his hand sliding from her back to rub against the curve of her rear. He knew in that moment he’d lost any upper hand he may have ever had with Buffy – from that moment on, he was her willing slave.

Buffy smirked, her lips against the mark she’d put on his throat; she knew it, too.

It had been so long since Spike had the feeling that it took him a little while to put a name to it. When he did, he smiled. Contentment…

It was refreshing to get to spend a quiet morning having breakfast in bed with his lover, even if his came out of a fast food bag and hers was pilfered hospital-stock blood in a ceramic mug.

He watched her from the corner of his eye as she sipped from the mug, amazed at how quickly she’d begun to heal once he’d allowed her human blood. Her pale, skin was growing smooth again, her eyes bright and shiny. The spot on her head where her hair had been singed off was no longer bald, though the strands of hair coming in proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was no more a natural blonde than he was.

He reached out and ran his hand over the brown stripe before tucking it behind her ear. Buffy sighed, lowering the mug from her mouth. “That looks really weird, doesn’t it? The big patch of brown right there in the front?”

“We’ll fix it when it grows out completely,” Spike assured her. “Make you look as good as new.”

“I still don’t know how you could want me with the way I looked before. I know I looked disgusting.”

Spike shook his head. “Don’t care how you look. You call to me, Buffy. You make my body burn in ways I’d forgotten about – if I’d ever really felt them in the first place.” He ran his hand down her naked thigh, feeling the way she trembled from his touch. “When this is all over, I’m taking you some place where I can spend days fucking you good and proper.”

His promise made her shiver, and Buffy downed the rest of the blood in her mug, set it on the arm of the couch, grabbed Spike’s head, and pushed him between her thighs. Spike didn’t hesitate, only repositioned himself so he could find better access before beginning to lick and nip at her clit, two fingers pushing into her. Buffy moaned, her hand tangling in his platinum curls, holding him in place.

“Mmm…that’s a good little vamp hunter,” she teased, smirking down at him. He looked up at her and met her eyes before giving her clit a hard bite. “Fuck, yeah!” Buffy yelled, her head hitting the back of the sofa. “More, baby. Eat me up real good.”

It drove Spike wild to watch her grow strong again, move away from the frightened, broken girl he’d seen in the bathtub. This was the confident woman who’d made him rock hard as he’d fought her in that alley, the woman who made him crazy with lust.

He lifted his head, panting, his pupils dilated with lust until his eyes were almost black. “Let me fuck you, baby. Please…”

Buffy shook her head, her eyes flickering gold for a moment and a wicked grin firmly in place. “Not until I’ve had my fill of your tongue,” she told him before pushing him back against her cunt. She thrust her hips against his mouth, muffling his moans. “Make me come, Spike. Make me come hard…”

Spike added a third finger, pumping them roughly in and out of her as he alternated between lapping at her clit with his tongue and nipping it with his teeth. Buffy writhed beneath his touch, animalistic growls and high-pitched cries sounding from her as she hurtled towards orgasm.

She vamped out when she came, her hands grasping at him until she grabbed his shoulder, bringing deep red welts to his skin. Spike looked up at her, asking with his eyes for permission to take what he wanted, but Buffy shook her head. “More,” she gasped, her body still shaking. “Do it again…”

He did as she asked, low growls rumbling through him as he feasted from her. He kept going, bringing her off a second and third time before she finally said the words he’d been longing for. “Now, Spike… Fuck me, now…”

Spike surged up her body, thrust inside. Five deep strokes and he was coming, his fingers digging hard enough into her hips to bruise a normal woman. Buffy screamed his name, bucked against him, and came a fourth time.

Spike panted, fighting to catch his breath as he rolled them over, Buffy splayed out on his chest. “You’re a bossy little bitch, aren’t you?” he asked playfully, tucking her hair behind her ear.

She smirked. “Didn’t hear you complaining.”

“Those really aren’t the kind of orders I mind,” Spike replied. He licked his lips. “You taste exquisite.”

“Angelus never really liked doing that much, so it’s nice to get to indulge for once,” Buffy admitted. “And you have a really nice tongue.”

“Angelus is clearly a raving idiot on top of everything else.” Spike ran his hand down her ass. “And I do, don’t I?”

Buffy rolled her eyes, though there was a smile on the corner of her lips. “Cocky much?”

“Very much,” Spike replied with a grin.

Buffy chuckled at his response, but then he watched as her expression changed, her eyes going from playful to…something else. “Tell me you love me again,” she pleaded, needing to hear it again, needing him to make her believe maybe this could be something real. “I…I liked how it made me feel when you said it.”

“Oh, sweetheart…Buffy… I love you. I love you.”

She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face against his neck, and suddenly she was the vulnerable girl again. Spike loved her like this just as much as when she was in control, loved how it made him feel to be able to comfort her, to warm her skin with his own.

And she was everything rolled up into one small package. She was all he’d ever loved and hated, his salvation and his damnation. She made him feel stronger even as she was bringing him to his knees.

She could break him with a touch, then use the same hands to put him back together again.

Spike remembered a time when he’d believed in fate, in a love so strong it was destined, unavoidable. There’d been a time when he’d spend hours penning odes to the power of such love.

One look into Dru’s dead eyes, and he’d lost the faith.

He’d stopped believing anything was meant to be. Life and love were cruel, tempting you with something always out of reach, snatching it away forever just when you thought you could almost touch it.

Then Buffy had fallen into his life, and the stars had crashed together.

The love he held for Buffy felt bigger than him, bigger than anything he could ever control. It had taken him over, burst into his heart when he hadn’t been looking, hadn’t been searching. He’d tried to look at her through eyes of hate, yet in an instant, his world had turned upside down and he couldn’t breathe anymore unless he was breathing in her.

If it wasn’t destiny, wasn’t fate, Spike didn’t know what else it could be. Passion like this could never be an accident.

And with Buffy, he had no doubt that whatever hand life dealt them, the passion would be the same. Had they met in the suburbs at a bloody PTA meeting, he’d still burn for her.

They were more than destined. They were epic.

Spike knew it might make him an arrogant sod to want to list them in the pantheon of great lovers, but he knew it was true nonetheless.

“Love doesn’t feel like a strong enough word.”

Her declaration was barely more than a whisper, muffled by her face against his chest, and Spike tilted her chin with his finger so she would look at him again. “What was that, pigeon?”

“Love…it…it doesn’t seem like a strong enough word,” Buffy said again. “To describe what I feel when I’m with you. I loved Angelus, but… It wasn’t this. It was nothing like this. I’m with you, and everything spins out of control.” She swallowed, her hand stealing between their bodies to take hold of his, entwining their fingers. “When I was a little girl, we used to visit my grandparents. They lived out in the country, and there was this big field outside their house, full of wildflowers and nothing else for as far as I could see. And I used to go out there, and I’d spin around so fast that the sky and the field would seem to blend together, like the world was out of control, and all I could do was spin with it, even if I ended up falling.”

She looked down at their hands, and for a moment, she was certain her heart was beating again. “That’s how I feel with you. Only…only bigger.”

Spike sucked in a deep breath, not needing to ask her for a further explanation. He understood completely what she was trying to say, and it made his heart constrict to realize her thoughts so closely mirrored his own. “Buffy… Never knew I could feel this way. Didn’t…didn’t even think it was possible to burn like this.”

“I…I don’t think most people ever do,” Buffy replied softly, stroking his hand with her thumb. “I think…” She stopped, shook her head, and rephrased her words. “No, I know. We’ve got something special.”

“We do,” Spike agreed softly.

“Even if it would probably seem sorta crazy to anyone who’s not us,” Buffy added, her brow furrowing. “I mean, we’ve only known each other for a few days, and most of that was all torture-filled.”

“Who said love had to make sense to anyone but the two people feeling it?” Spike squeezed her hand gently. “I’m not letting you go, Buffy. Not even after Angelus is dust. You do know that, don’t you?”

Buffy let her eyes flicker away from his again. “I still don’t see how we’re going to work, Spike. We’re from two different worlds. I mean, aside from the little stuff like how you’d never exactly be able to take me on a Sunday afternoon stroll through the park, what about the big things? Like do you really think we can share the same bed after going out at night and killing each other’s kind? You kill vampires and I kill people – that’s going to cause some issues, no matter how strong what we feel for each other is.”

“We’ll work those issues out,” Spike replied, his expression set in stubborn determination the likes of which Buffy didn’t think she’d ever seen before. “We’ll figure out a way to make it work. We have to. I can’t give this up. I can’t live out the rest of my life knowing there’s a woman out there who I love this much – who makes me feel this much – and I’m not with her. We’ll just have to fight to make it work is all.”

“Which is all very nice and romantic, but…” Buffy pulled her hand away from his and sighed. “I can’t fight what I am, Spike. I can tell you right now I’m not going to be able to keep it to bagged blood like this. I love you, I do, but…I’ll slip. There’s no way I can keep from slipping. Feeding…it’s about more than just getting blood. It’s…” She sighed again. “I can’t even explain it. Not to a human. I’m sorry.”

“Try.”

Buffy shook her head, not wanting to tell him more. How could she tell him the sheer rapture that came with sinking her fangs into a living, breathing, victim? How could she tell him there was a part of her that could only be sated when she felt the last bit of life slip from someone? That she didn’t just crave blood, but craved taking the life that came with it? How could she explain to a man who hated vampires what it meant to be one?

“I can’t.”

Spike was quiet for a moment, a stillness passing through the room before he took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his chest shuddering as he did. “Then maybe you should show me.”

Buffy looked at him sharply. He couldn’t be suggesting… “Spike?”

“When this is over. When Angelus is gone, and we’ve taken care of the past…” Another deep breath, and he was looking into her eyes…

“I want you to turn me.”

“You want me to…” Buffy jumped up from the bed, grabbing the comforter and wrapping it around her. “No. No…”

Spike sat up. “Buffy, don’t just run off,” he said, running his hand through his rumpled curls. “Let’s at least talk about this.”

Buffy held out the hand that wasn’t currently clutching the blanket to her chest. “There is nothing to talk about, Spike. We’re not discussing this. Ever.”

“It would be the easiest way for us to…”

“Easy? You think it would be easy? God, Spike, do you have any idea what becoming a vampire does to you? What it’s like to…” She stopped, a lump forming in her throat as she thought about her own turning, unable to finish her sentence. “It’s not easy.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I know it’s not something to be taken lightly. But it’s our best shot at being together. You’ve got to know that, Buffy. Even if…even if you don’t like it.”

Her eyes slid shut as Buffy admitted what he was saying with a soft, “I do.” But then she was looking at him again, fire back in her gaze. “Which is why we can’t work forever, Spike. Or even any sort of long term. I’m dead, and that’s a pretty much a permanent state. I can’t ever go back to being like you are now. And as far as the reverse…” She shook her head, standing her ground. “I won’t do it. I won’t. Don’t ask me for this.”

Spike couldn’t help but feel hurt by her unwavering denial of his request. He understood her own turning had been difficult, but it wouldn’t be the same for them. She wasn’t Angelus, and she wouldn’t be doing it to hurt or control him. Didn’t she love him like he loved her? Didn’t she want an eternity feeling this way? “Can’t you at least give it some bloody thought before you dismiss it outright?”

“Can’t you give it some bloody thought?” Buffy countered. “This isn’t something that can be undone. It’s not something you can try out for a bit, and if you don’t like it, you can go back to your old life. I turn you, and that’s it. You’re dead.”

“Undead,” Spike corrected.

“Same fucking thing!” Buffy screamed. She shook her head. “What is it with humans and their romantic notions of vampires, huh? We’re blood-sucking corpses, for chrissakes – not characters in an Anne Rice novel.”

Spike got off the bed then, not bothering to cover up as he stalked towards her, backing her up against the wall. He took hold of her shoulders, forcing her to stay close to him, to look into his eyes. “I don’t have romantic notions about vampires, Buffy. I know what they are. Trust me, I’ve seen it first hand – seen everything first hand – and I know what I’m asking. But I love you. I need you. I’d give up everything I am, everything I’ve ever known, just to be with you. I’ve waited my whole life to feel this complete with someone else. To have this, to have you, forever? I don’t care what the price is – any price is worth it.”

Buffy could see in her eyes that Spike was serious. He did know what he was asking her – or at least he thought he did.

Somehow, it only made her even more determined to tell him no.

Spike was a good man. Despite what he’d done to her in the beginning, she had absolutely no doubt of that. He’d tried to close off his heart after losing his wife, but Buffy knew it was still open, still warm – still beating.

She’d never be the one responsible for changing that. No matter what she felt for him, the burning passion between them, or her desire to spend centuries at his side, she would never be the one to take away that part of him. He may not think the price was too much, but Buffy knew it was.

She could never go on with the knowledge she’d changed anything about this man.

It was even clearer to her now that they could never be together. It broke her heart more than she’d ever known possible, but the truth was blindingly obvious now. She’d been setting herself up for heartbreak by simply entertaining the notion. The problem was, he wasn’t able to see the truth, too. Instead of just enjoying what little time they did have together, he was trying to hold on to the impossible.

And now, he was entertaining notions that…

No.

She had to put an end to this now, as much as it broke her heart. If she let things continue, if she let him keep thinking that things could change, that he could change. Even if she knew enough about vampires to know he’d still be himself at his core, she also knew it was impossible to go through something like that and remain completely unchanged. The mission that drove him now would be lost. He’d become what he hated, what he fought against.

She couldn’t take part in that.

Her heart crumbled in her chest, but she steeled herself to do what she had to do.

Her fangs burst through her gums as the bones in her face shifted. “Is this what you want, Spike? Is this what you want to be? A monster?”

“Buffy…”

She ignored the plea in his voice and let the blanket drop before grabbing him by the neck and tossing him against the wall. She kept him pinned with one arm, letting him know for the first time just how strong she was. “This is what you want? This?” She snarled before she let go of his neck just long enough to take his flesh between her fangs. She wasn’t gentle this time, didn’t try to make it about pleasure. She wanted to hurt him. She wanted him to know…

She pulled her mouth away from him, blood on her lips and chin. “Is that what you want?” she asked again, her voice sounding something other than human.

Spike put his hand against the wound. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I don’t want you,” Buffy snapped. “What, did you really think I meant any of it? Did you think I could actually fall in love in a matter of days with a man who tortured me?” She sneered at him. “And a human, no less. I’ve been playing you the whole time, making you think you did anything other than disgust me on the off chance I could manipulate you into not staking me when this is over. But I certainly didn’t want to get stuck with someone as pathetic as you forever. I’ve been barely tolerating you as it is.”

“You don’t mean this,” Spike said, shaking his head in denial. “I know you don’t, Buffy. I…I saw what was in your eyes when… I know you felt the same way I do every time I was inside you.”

“You saw what you wanted to see.”

“No. I saw what was there. You can’t deny that.”

“Are you honestly that delusional? I’m a demon, Spike! And you…” She sneered and stepped away from him. “You’re beneath me.”

In an instant, his face grew hard. He pushed her back, making her stumble as he stormed away from the wall and began to gather his clothes from around the room. He dressed quickly, without even a glance in her direction, then stormed out of the apartment and into the glaring sun, the door slamming hard behind him.

As soon as she knew he was gone, Buffy sank to the floor and cried.

*** *** ***

Spike had been gone for hours, and Buffy was starting to worry. She was glad she’d never told him where Angelus was, afraid now that if she had, she would’ve pushed him to think a daytime raid would be a smart idea. It wouldn’t have been – Angelus had guards standing at all times.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t have gotten himself into some other kind of trouble. What if her cruel words had pushed him into doing something stupid? Could he be in danger right then? What if he was dead?

The sun was bright outside the apartment, and Buffy had noted when she’d arrived that the nearest sewer entrance was really too far away for her to make it. Damn Los Angeles and all its blinding sunlight… She certainly couldn’t do Spike any good if he were in trouble and she was just a pile of dust.

Buffy wished more than anything that Spike had just kept his sudden desire to become undead to himself. She’d wanted to spend the time before they went after Angelus in his arms, building memories that were supposed to last with her into immortality, even after he was long gone. She hadn’t wanted the time they’d spent together to be tainted with an ending like this.

And what if this really was the end of them? What if he never came back? Already Buffy was certain she’d never get to touch him again, but to never even get to see him one last time? To have her last memory of his face one where he was looking at her in anger?

She always wanted to remember the love she’d seen in his eyes…

She tried to keep herself together and stay calm, dressing herself in the t-shirt and sweatpants he’d bought for her earlier and drinking the hospital blood, wanting to make sure her healing didn’t stall. She kept telling herself he’d just needed some distance from her after what she’d said, and he’d be back soon.

However, when the sun began to set and he still hadn’t returned, Buffy felt genuine panic begin to set in. He’d been gone for hours. Her mind went back to her earlier thoughts, fears that he’d go out and do something stupid. She’d said what she said to protect him – she certainly didn’t want it to backfire and get him hurt.

She had just about to go out and look for him herself, when the door opened. She jumped up from the edge of the couch, her hands on her hips. “Where did you go? You’ve been gone all day! For all I know, you could’ve been hurt, dammit!”

He arched an eyebrow. “And you care because…? You hate me, remember?”

Buffy dropped her hands, a quick wince passing over her features. “Oh, right. Well, you’ve been my source of food recently, so…”

“Whatever,” Spike said briskly before tossing her a shopping bag. “Put these on.”

Buffy looked in the bag, finding a pair of jeans, a top, and boots. The sizes were all correct, and Buffy couldn’t help but blush a little as she thought about how he’d have such intimate knowledge of her measurements.

“Now?” she asked, not understanding why he would stay gone all day only to come back right after sunset and throw a bag of clothes at her. “Why do you want me to get dressed? I mean, other than in what I’m wearing, since I assume we won’t be doing anything naked anymore…”

“We’re going after Angelus,” Spike said tersely, cutting her off.

She hadn’t been expecting that. She’d assumed that there’d be more planning, maybe a bit more healing on her part. Granted, she felt strong enough now, but… “Spike, I don’t think this is a good idea. Not right now. You’re upset, you’re being brash, and…”

“I’m not waiting anymore. I want this over with, and I want it over with tonight. Whatever happens from this point, I don’t care, but I’m not waiting around anymore knowing that bastard is anything other than a pile of dust. So do you plan on actually honoring our deal, or are you going to take that back, too?”

His words stung, and Buffy flinched from the harshness in his tone. “I don’t want to back out of the deal,” she assured him. “I just don’t think now is the best time.”

“And I don’t really give a bloody fuck about what you think, so if you’re going to help me, get dressed now. Otherwise, I’m going to search this whole bloody city until I find the bastard. Understood?”

Buffy had a very, very bad feeling about this. She didn’t like to do things without some form of planning. At least some discussion about who was going to do what. But Spike did not look like he was in the mood to discuss anything.

He looked like he was in the mood to kill.

Or possibly get killed…

She didn’t like this, but she had to go with him. Even if going now meant saying good-bye sooner, if it meant she’d have to leave tonight and never see him again, she couldn’t let him go in alone.

She had to make sure he got out of this alive.

Without another word, Buffy changed her clothes.

“Park over there,” Buffy said, pointing out the window. “There’s a sewer entrance right by it that leads into Angelus’s mansion. We’ll have a better chance getting in that way. Fewer guards.”

They were the first words either of them had spoken since they’d left the apartment, and Spike didn’t respond verbally. Instead, he simply pulled the car over to the spot she’d indicated and turned off the engine.

Buffy sat in the silent car, breathing even though she didn’t need to. Finally, when she couldn’t take it anymore, she turned towards him. “Spike, I…”

“Save it, Buffy.”

She felt her eyes fill up with tears at his sharp tone, but she knew she couldn’t cry now. Not when she had to focus on making sure he came out of this alive.

But she couldn’t let him go without saying anything either. What she’d told him in the hotel room… It couldn’t end like that.

And she knew this had to be good bye…

“But I have to…”

“No, you don’t.” Spike moved before she could say anything else, cupping her face as he brought her closer for a kiss. In the second before their lips touched, she’d expected anger, but instead he gave her tenderness and passion.

“I know, Buffy,” he whispered as they broke apart. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“I didn’t mean it.”

“I know.” He pressed his forehead to hers, inhaling deeply as if he wanted to breathe her in.

Then, reluctantly, Spike let her go, leaning over her and punching open the glove compartment. A stake rolled into his hand, and for a moment, Buffy felt a wave of panic, before she realized he was simply giving her a weapon. “Have you ever fought other vampires before?”

“A few times, yeah. Angelus has a habit of seriously pissing people off.”

“Well, can’t say I find that surprising. So you’ll be all right then? Able to handle yourself?”

“Yes. Probably better than you, seeing as you’ve got no super strength or anything.”

Spike smirked. “I can hold my own. After all, I kicked your ass.”

“That wasn’t fair,” Buffy said, pointing a finger at him. “You tasered me, you cheat.”

“All’s fair in love and vampire slaying.”

She gave him a slow smile. “But you don’t really wanna slay me…”

“Slay, no. But lose the ‘s’ and you’ve got it right.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Pig.”

Spike shook his head. “No. Big bad wolf. Wanna eat you up.” He pulled Buffy across the bench seat and into his lap, kissing her again, this time harder, more desperate. “God, Buffy,” he groaned. “Want you.”

Buffy didn’t know exactly how they’d gone from not speaking to snogging. Her emotions seemed all over the place with him, from hate to love and back again. She broke away from his lips, panting. “We have to go kill Angelus, remember?”

“Right. Angelus.” Spike stroked her hair. “We’ll pick this back up afterwards.”

“Spike, I’m…”

Spike put his finger against her lips. “No, Buffy, you’re not.”

“But I…”

“No. You try to run, and I’ll find you. I’m not letting you go.” He pulled her against his chest. “I’m never letting you go.”

“We can’t…”

“Buffy, listen to me,” Spike said, cupping her face. “I’m not saying this is going to be easy. But I think we’re worth fighting for.”

“I’m not turning you. I don’t want you to be like that.”

“I know, baby. Doesn’t mean we have to throw in the towel. We’ll just have to figure something else out.”

“There isn’t anything else, Spike. We’re not made to be together. Maybe if Angelus had never turned me, maybe if we’d met some other way, but…”

Spike cut her off again. “No. Stop bloody talking like that.”

“But I’m dead, Spike!”

“So was I before I met you! Don’t you understand what we are, Buffy?”

“We’re two people who should be enemies.”

“No. We’re a miracle, Buffy.”

Buffy blinked, not sure what to make of his declaration. At a loss for words, she simply parroted it back at him. “A miracle?”

“Yeah. We defied the odds to find each other, Buffy. Even death couldn’t keep you from me. And none of the things that stand between us matter because they’re just on the outside. They aren’t who we are.”

“And who are we, Spike?”

“We’re Buffy and Spike,” he replied with a crooked grin, as if that answered everything.

She smiled back because somehow, it did.

She wanted to believe what he told her, what her heart told her. She wanted to believe that they’d simply walk in there, kill Angelus, and then walk out hand in hand and live happily ever after.

If only she hadn’t stopped believing in happily ever after a long time ago…

He must’ve seen the doubt in her eyes. “You don’t have to believe me now, pet. Just don’t run when this is over. Give me a chance to prove it to you. A chance, Buffy, that’s all I’m asking for. Can you promise me at least that much?”

She nodded, unable to deny him that. She wanted to believe. Maybe, if they were actually able to pull this off, she could.

“Good. Things are going to work out for us, lamb. Do you know why?”

“Because we’re a miracle?” Buffy asked softly.

Spike’s grin widened. “Exactly. Now you’re gettin’ it.”

“I love you, Spike.”

“I know you do, kitten.” He kissed her forehead. “Now come on. Let’s go take care of the bastard that hurt you, yeah?”

“I thought this was for Drusilla.”

Spike looked at her for a moment, startled. “It’s for both of you. He needs to get what he deserves.”

“He does,” Buffy agreed.

“Is this going to be hard for you, luv? I know he means something to you.”

“Meant,” Buffy corrected. “Angelus never loved me. I knew that the moment you touched me.” She caressed his face, smiling softly as she did. “No one’s ever touched me like you do.”

He caught her hand, kissed the tips of her fingers. “We’ll make it. I know we will. For the first time in so long, I know everything’s going to be okay.”

Buffy threw her arms around him and squeezed tightly, hoping beyond hope that it wouldn’t be the last time.

*** *** ***

“God, this place reeks.”

“It’s a sewer. Of course it reeks.”

“How are you not gagging? I thought vampires had heightened senses.”

“I’m not breathing.”

“Oh. Cheater.”

Buffy smirked. “Be quiet now. We’re getting close.”

Spike nodded before whispering, “One more for luck.”

She tried to ask him one more what, but her words came out muffled as he pressed his lips against hers and kissed her hard.

Yet almost as soon as he pulled away from her, he was all business, dropping back into the hardened demeanor he’d wore when she’d first met him. He was a hunter now, concentrating on his prey.

“What are we going to run into when we get up there?” he asked her.

“Guards,” Buffy said. “He usually has two on the sewer entrance, since it’s small and we haven’t had anyone try to use it to break in yet. We can take them out, no problem. It’s early in the evening, so Angelus is probably still in the back of the house, most likely not even out of bed yet. The minions are usually in the other wing, so we should be able to strike quickly and take him out before he can alert anyone else.”

“Sounds easy enough.”

“That’s because I just gave the best case scenario.”

“Worst case scenario?”

“It all goes to hell.”

“Right then.” Spike took a deep breath then winced, immediately wishing he hadn’t, given the odor of the sewer. “You can hold your own, right?”

“I told you I could. Don’t worry about me. Just focus on getting Angelus. I’ll be fine.” Buffy growled softly as she switched into game face. “I’m ready for this.”

“Lead the way, luv.”

Buffy stepped in front of him, walking to the metal ladder that led into the building. “Wait for my signal,” she told him before climbing quickly up the ladder, pushing up the metal grate that gave her access into the basement of the mansion.

Two guards stood at the door, just as she’d expected. She grinned, sashaying up to them, enjoying the looks of surprise on their faces. “Hello, boys,” she said, running her tongue over her fangs.

“B…Buffy,” one of them stammered. “You…you aren’t supposed to be here. An…Angelus said.”

“I’m just here for a little fun,” Buffy said with a grin. “But if Angelus doesn’t want me, maybe we could play instead.” She looked between the two guards, her eyes hooded. “Would you like that?”

“We’re…we’re supposed to be guarding the sewer entrance, miss,” the guard who had up until that point been silent said. “We…can’t…Angelus wouldn’t…”

“No one ever comes through that entrance, and you know it,” Buffy said. “Wouldn’t you rather be getting laid?”

The two male vampires looked at each other. She did have a point…

Buffy gripped the crotch of the one closest to her and raised her voice slightly as she spoke. “Come on, baby. I bet you have a nice, big spike for me in there.”

The two guards were too busy drooling to notice the platinum blonde head that emerged from the sewer. Moments later, a crossbow bolt whizzed through the air, meeting its mark in the chest of one of the guards. As his dust fell, Buffy grabbed her stake from the back of her jeans and drove it into the heart of the other.

“Well, that was embarassingly easy,” she remarked as she took a step back from the dust. “Boys are dumb.”

Spike arched an eyebrow. “Gotta say, sweetheart, didn’t love your signal.”

“You didn’t love it? I had to be all flirty and feel up that totally icky minion.” She shuddered. “That was vile.”

“Still, just so you know, we’re having possessive, angry sex later.”

“No complaints from me.” She flashed him a wicked, fanged grin. “Besides, by now, you should know you’re the only spike for me.”

“See, now I think you’re just mocking me.”

Buffy chuckled. “Come on. Let’s get this over with so we can have that possessive, angry sex.”

Spike winked at her, his grin enough to make her want to say to hell with it all of it and throw him down right there on the floor. For a moment, her human features reemerged, but then she shook her head, clearing her thoughts and putting her game face back on.

With Spike behind her, they ran up the stairs into the main part of the mansion, hoping to find things as easy as they’d been in the basement.

Apparently, however, their luck had taken a turn south.

Usually at this time, the minions would’ve been just waking up, feeding from whomever was left lying around the mansion. However, something must’ve been going on, since they were mingling together in the main hall instead, a group of at least twenty standing between them and Angelus.

“Oh, balls,” Spike whispered. “Think you can seduce all of them?”

Buffy sighed softly. “I’m hot and all, but I’m not sure I’m that hot. I guess I could flash my tits.”

“That’s a no go.”

“Why not? They’re perky.”

“Not disagreeing with you there, kitten, but you do that, and I’m going to be distracted, too.”

“Oh. Right. Guess we’re just going to have to fight them all then.”

Spike pushed his crossbow back into his coat and retrieved a stake instead. “Let’s do this.”

Buffy stepped out into the room with Spike close behind her. She cleared her throat, knowing a sneak attack on a group ten times larger than your own was pointless. “Miss me?”

One of the vampires stepped forward and snarled. “Angelus said to kill you if you came back, Buffy.”

“Of course he did. God, that man is such an ass.” She rolled her eyes. “Well, I guess you better come kill me then. Wouldn’t want to upset Angelus.”

The vampire charged at her, but Spike moved faster, staking him before he had a chance to get to Buffy. The other minions froze, and Buffy heard one of them ask, “Who the hell is that guy?”

“I don’t know,” another minion replied, “but I say we kill them both.”

The entire group charged towards them, fangs bared. Buffy and Spike shared a meaningful look before they jumped into the fray, ready to do whatever it took to get to Angelus – and put the pasts he’d given them both behind them once and for all.

Buffy and Spike stood back to back, moving together as if they were meant to do this, as if they were simply two halves of the same whole. Every move one made was a mirror of the other, dust swirling around them as they managed to best every vampire that came their way. Spike breathed heavily, his heart thudding madly in his chest, though adrenaline kept him from truly feeling the exertion.

However, he turned his head, and it was then that he saw her. She stood in the entrance to a hallway, her white dress giving her an ethereal look, as if she were a ghost. Maybe she was…

She was as gorgeous as he remembered, her dark hair falling in tempting waves against pale skin. She smiled at him, crooked a finger, and he could hear her voice whispering in his mind, floating past him like a cool breeze.

Come to me, my William…

His stake clattered to the ground, every molecule of his body drawn towards her. The world seemed to fade away, and he could hear her laughter, her gentle voice as it has been when she’d been his. He remembered her touch, her warmth. He remembered how happy he’d once been…

Distantly, he heard someone screaming his name, but it faded away as he took her hand.

She smiled as she led him away, and he was helpless to do anything but follow.

Even with the fight going on around her, Buffy knew the moment Spike was no longer at her side. She felt his presence slip from her, the reassuring thumping of his heart no longer providing her an anchor.

She whipped around, her borrowed blood running cold at the sight of him walking towards a woman she didn’t recognize. Her senses told her vampire, and she screamed Spike’s name, knowing the woman standing apart from the crowd was not a mere minion like the others. She would not be so easily dispatched.

Buffy bellowed his name again, pushing through the attacking vampires to get to him, knowing deep in her bones this was something dreadful. He didn’t turn to look at her, made no signs that he’d even heard her. He simply continued to move towards the woman as if he was being pulled forward in some sort of strange slow-motion.

In a moment of horrific realization, Buffy knew what was happening. Whoever this woman was, she had a thrall – and somehow, she’d managed to catch Spike in it.

Buffy started to run towards him, only to be tackled by one of the remaining minions. He snarled, moving to strike her, but she felt extra strength flooding her veins, her desire to save Spike overriding all else. She struck out, kicking the minion off of her before she staked him and turned to stake the next as well with one movement.

Three vampires now remained, but Buffy wasn’t slowed. She didn’t care that she was outnumbered. Spike needed her…

Finally, she stood with only one other vampire, the marble floor beneath their feet littered with dust. He froze, a terrified look passing over his face as if he had just realized he was now alone.

“I’ll kill you, too,” Buffy snarled.

He responded by fleeing, and Buffy didn’t go after him. She didn’t have the time. Instead, she ran towards the hallway she’d seen Spike and the woman go down, praying to a god who had long ago forgotten her that she’d get there on time.

She found him in a room at the end of the hall, one she’d believed empty during her time there. Perhaps it had been… It was decorated in white lace and silks, a large bed in the center holding porcelain dolls, as if it were the room of a child.

Yet the woman in it now was far from a child. Her demon’s face was in the fore, its features making her appear almost as a snake. In her arms, she held Spike, and Buffy stilled, the panicked breath she’d been exhaling as she ran coming to a stop as she searched for a sign that she’d been fast enough, that she’d stopped the horrible thing she so feared.

Then the woman let go, Spike’s body slumped to the floor, and Buffy knew she had not.

The scream was loud, echoing on cold walls, and Buffy didn’t know it was hers. It wasn’t real… It couldn’t be real…

Tears heavy on her cheeks, Buffy ran to him falling to her knees before pulling him into her arms, cradling him. Her senses told her what she didn’t want to believe. No heartbeat, no breath…

Just a dead body…

“No, no, no…” she repeated over and over again, denying what was right in front of her. “Please, no. Spike…wake up. You…you gotta wake up, baby.”

“He won’t wake yet, silly girl. It isn’t time. The moon isn’t right yet.”

Buffy had almost forgotten the other vampire in the room, but the sound of her sing-song voice brought Buffy’s head up. “How dare you?!” she snarled. “I’ll kill you!”

The vampire simply laughed, a sound that made Buffy sick to her stomach. “How dare I? I did you a favor. I could take him for myself, you know.” She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. “He was mine first.”

“Yours…” Buffy’s eyes widened as she gasped, realization hitting as she knew why the woman would do this, and why Spike would so easily fall under her thrall in the first place. Drusilla…

“You should run now, sister dear. Daddy will be here soon, and he’ll be quite cross you’ve ruined his little game. There may be a spanking.” She shook her head. “And he certainly won’t like your new toy.”

“How could you do this?” Buffy demanded. “How could you do this to him?”

“Don’t be an ungrateful princess. He was mine, and I’m letting him be yours. You should thank me.”

“Thank you…” Buffy asked in disbelief, her anger and grief mixing inside, fueling her rage. “You…”

“Drusilla! Where the fuck are you, and why are all my minions dust!”

Angelus’s voice echoed through the building, shaking against the walls, and Buffy gasped softly, her body growing still. She couldn’t fight him, not now. Not with things like this.

“Run, sweet sister,” Drusilla whispered. “Through the window. Take our William somewhere he can be safe until he’s ready. Hide him from Daddy. He’ll be so very cross.”

“You’re insane,” Buffy growled.

Drusilla laughed, the sound both childlike and sinister all at once, and Buffy trembled. She heard Angelus’s footsteps echoing in the hallway, and she knew she didn’t have much time.

“Dru! Come out here and talk to me now!”

“I’ll stall him,” Drusilla whispered conspiratorially, as if they were friends playing a game and Drusilla hadn’t just murdered the man Buffy loved. “And I’ll keep our secret. Daddy needn’t know.”

Buffy ran her hand against Spike’s brow, knowing the warmth she felt there would soon fade away. Tears continued to fall from her eyes as she knew that even if he woke again, the man she’d loved was dead. She didn’t know who he’d be, if he’d look at her with love ever again. She knew most vampires weren’t like her, and she didn’t know what the turning would do to Spike.

Would he be no different from Angelus?

Would he remember how weak she’d been, how she’d cried?

Would he leave her alone, leave her to suffer in death?

“Run, you silly girl,” Drusilla hissed before she glided from the room, calling to Angelus. She could hear him yelling and the muffled sounds of Drusilla trying to coax him into a better mood.

Buffy had no choice anymore. What was done was done, and she couldn’t take back Drusilla’s actions. Spike’s heart had stopped, his breath had stilled.

Nothing left to do, Buffy lifted him in her arms, his body limp. He seemed so human in that moment, so fragile.

So lifeless…

She jumped from the open window and into the grass, Spike’s body still in her arms. Her body ached, her heart screaming, but she didn’t stop until she reached Spike’s car, carefully placing him inside before she slid into the driver’s sear.

Her hands were against the wheel when he slumped against her, and she burst into tears, turning to gather him against her chest.

“I’m sorry, William,” she whispered, her lips against his hair. “Oh god, I’m so sorry.”

She held him tight, knowing she’d failed him. She was supposed to keep him safe, see to it he survived their assault on Angelus’s mansion. Instead, she’d let the unspeakable happen.

Buffy wondered if it had hurt when Drusilla had turned him, if he’d felt the unbearable agony she’d suffered when Angelus had taken that final bite of her flesh. Had he been frightened as he’d slipped towards death? Had he begged for his life?

She should’ve been faster. She should’ve been able to break through the remaining minions and gotten to Spike before Drusilla had been able to change him. Angelus had been right. She was pathetic, weak, garbage.

She fell forward, bent over his still body, sobs racking her small frame. This wasn’t what she’d wanted. This had never been what she’d wanted.

Drusilla believed this was a favor?

It was so far removed from a favor. It was her worst nightmare unfolding in front of her eyes. Her Spike, her champion, was now the thing he’d hated most. He’d been the only light she’d been allowed to touch for so long, and now he was part of the dark.

Trapped in darkness just like her…

The fact that he’d asked for this only that morning brought her no solace. She believed now, as she had then, that his request came only because he didn’t truly know what he was asking her for. He didn’t know how turning changed you, how it twisted everything inside until you knew that even if you could look at your reflection, you wouldn’t recognize who you saw.

She sat up again, staring down at his face, lit by a nearby streetlamp. He looked so pale, no movement under the surface, nothing flowing in the blue veins etched into his skin. Drusilla’s fangs had marred his perfect neck, erasing the marks that Buffy herself had left.

The sight of it made her shake with primal rage, and she hated the other vampire for daring to touch what was hers, to do take this sort of liberty with a male Buffy had marked as her own. She didn’t care that Drusilla had been his wife, once upon a time. That was before, in the mortal world.

In the demon world, Spike was hers. And Drusilla had taken him from her.

But as much as she hated Drusilla, Buffy knew she was the one who ultimately held the blame. Spike had been hers, and therefore, he’d been hers to look after, hers to protect. She’d allowed him to walk into Angelus’s lair with very little planning, throwing themselves at the mercy of fate. She’d known things wouldn’t go smoothly, and yet, she’d done nothing to stop it, nothing to stop these horrible events from falling into place.

She’d done this to Spike just as much as if she’d stolen his life.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered as she stroked his hair, even if she knew he couldn’t hear her. Until the demon Drusilla’s blood created inside of him awoke, Spike was only dead.

He was a shell, waiting to give rise to something dark, something hated.

Buffy wondered then, when he finally saw what a failure she was, if he’d finally be able to stake her.

For now, however, all she could do was wait. She had no idea when Spike would wake up. In truth, for all she knew, Drusilla had been lying and Spike would never wake again. The thought of never seeing his eyes open again made cold fear grip Buffy’s unbeating heart, and she wasn’t sure which possibility was truly worse.

She wouldn’t have the answer to that tonight either.

Buffy wiped at her eyes roughly, forcing herself to be strong for now, to keep looking forward even when she wanted to collapse on the ground and wait for the sun. While Drusilla had turned Spike, she’d shown no desire to act as a sire should, and he was in Buffy’s care now. It was her job to wait for him to wake, to introduce him to his new existence, no matter how much the thought of it made her ache.

Having a mission to hold her together, Buffy drove away.

*** *** ***

The sun was setting over the horizon. Buffy could feel it in her blood, beckoning her to leave the shelter she’d sought during the day, to prowl the night, to feed. But as she’d done for two days now, she sat, neither sleeping nor eating.

Only waiting.

Spike remained still, and she wondered how long until she had to give up hope. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t made a sound since she’d brought him back to the apartment and laid him on the bed. He was nothing more than a corpse, and yet, she’d kept him company, speaking to him, stroking his skin, his hair.

Begging him to wake up and love her still.

In the two days since their ill-fated raid, she’d tried to convince herself it would be okay. Spike loved her too much to treat her as Angelus did. He wouldn’t be like that, wouldn’t be like the cruel, heartless vampires she’d known. He’d love like he always had.

He’d love like she did.

She’d had to believe it was possible. She’d had to believe they could still be real. It was the only way she could preserve her mind.

When his eyes finally opened, she gasped, the blue so intense, stronger than she even remembered. He took a deep, choking breath, gasping as if he needed air, struggling on the bed as he fought to save a life that was already gone. She remembered the feeling, remembered how it burned deep inside, how difficult it was to wake up as something other than what you’d always been.

She reached towards him, prepared to soothe him, to comfort him the way Angelus had refused. To tell it was all right even when it wasn’t.

Then, he said the word that made her word come crashing down. A moan, a whisper. A heartbreak…

Drusilla…

Her hand fell away from him.

Drusilla…

The whispered word broke Buffy’s heart, and she wondered why she hadn’t foreseen this. Of course he’d want Drusilla… She was his wife, his love, the reason why he’d set out to find Angelus in the first place. And now, she was his sire – and that was a bond Buffy understood all too well.

Everything came crashing down on her, her exhaustion, the emotional strain, it was all too much. She collapsed in on herself, sobbing. Broken…

She felt Spike shifting on the bed, sitting up. “Buffy?” he asked, his voice hoarse and confused. “Buffy? What’s happening? I… I thought I saw Drusilla, and then… What’s happening to me, luv? Why are you crying?”

Buffy looked up and met his eyes. She saw something there, something she didn’t think could be there. Not after everything… “You did see Drusilla,” Buffy said in between soft, choked sobs. “She… She’s a vampire now, and she turned you.”

Buffy didn’t quite know what she had expected his response to be, but she didn’t think it would be the one he gave.

“Oh.”

Simple, devoid of emotion. Buffy frowned, her brow furrowing. “Oh?”

“Is there much else I can say right now?” he asked, running his hand through his hair.

“No, I guess not,” Buffy conceded. She sniffled, trying to gain control over herself again, even if nothing was making sense anymore. “I’m sorry, Spike. I…I shouldn’t have let this happen. I should’ve been faster, or smarter. I sat here while you were…asleep…and I thought it all out in my head, how I could’ve been better. What I should’ve done. I should’ve saved you.”

Spike moved to her then, pulling her against his chest. “Hush now, lamb. It’s all right. It’s not your fault.”

“But it is, Spike. I never should’ve let this happen. You didn’t want this…”

He brought her back from him then, though he kept his hands on her arms as he looked into her eyes. “Yes, Buffy, I did. I told you this morning, remember?”

“Actually, that was three days ago, but…” She shook her head. “You didn’t know what you were asking for, Spike.”

“I most certainly did!” Spike said, the sudden raise in his voice making Buffy flinch. “I know vampires, Buffy. In order to fight something, really fight it you’ve got to understand it. And I saw what I fought up close, knew all the darkness, and I wanted it. It’s been ten years since I’ve know peace, ten years since I’ve known anything but torment. To lose that…to finally be free of the torture of breathing… Yeah, Buffy. I wanted it.”

“But you fought our kind. You hated vampires…”

“I had to hate something,” Spike replied. “It was either that or hate myself so much I’d waste away into nothing.” He swallowed hard, his eyes cast downwards.

“But, Spike…”

His eyes shot up again, and his words came as almost a growl. “I wanted it, Buffy. I spent so long staring into the darkness, that I wanted to be a part of it. I needed to be a part of it. Nothing felt right anymore, but this…this feels right.” He cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. “I feel right with you. Like this is how things were always supposed to be.”

She was crying, her eyes haunted, and Spike felt a sudden rush of fear. “You still love me like this, don’t you, Buffy? Tell me you do, please, tell me you do…”

“Of course I love you,” she assured him, though her tears fell harder. “I’ll always love you, Spike. Always.”

“Then it’ll be okay, kitten – because we have always now.”

Buffy collapsed on him then, sobbing again, and Spike gathered her into his arms, holding her close against his chest. “It’s all right, luv. It’s all going to be all right now. You’ll see.”

She said nothing, only cried until she was too exhausted to cry anymore. When she was asleep in his arms, he brought them back against the mattress, holding her tightly against him.

Together they lay, still and unbreathing.

*** *** ***

Buffy was still asleep, but Spike had slept long enough. For days apparently…

He brushed a soft kiss against her brow before he rolled her off his chest, grateful when it didn’t seem to disturb her. He was hungry, though he didn’t want to go out and feed. Not because it felt wrong – he hadn’t carried that over with him into death. He saw the world with new eyes now and knew he and humans were on different links of the food chain.

No, he wasn’t going to hunt because he wanted his first time to be with her…

He walked away from the bed, only to turn around and smile at his sleeping lover. He knew she was distraught over this, and he could certainly understand why, but he knew it would be okay. He didn’t love her any less than he had before. If anything the new understanding he’d gained of what she was made him love her more.

Nothing could break them apart now. Spike felt strong, invincible. He and Buffy could take on the world, live a life where they never had to answer to anyone or anything. They’d be legends, their love epic. He could see their future spread out in front of them, stretching endlessly. And he knew Buffy would see it that way, too, once things were calmer and she realized how much better it was like this.

And once they truly had Angelus out of the way…

Spike had no doubt he could take on the older vampire now. He’d come so close with human strength. As a vampire, he’d be unstoppable. And with Buffy at his side…

He looked her over again, his demon rumbling for something other than blood, though it was tempered by the man’s desire to let her have her rest. He knew the past few days had to be hell for her, and he’d let her sleep. He’d satisfy his desire for blood now and wait for her to wake to sate his deeper lusts.

Spike opened the fridge and pulled out one of the packets of blood he’d stolen from the hospital. He knew it was probably less than fresh by now, but he needed something. He tossed it in the microwave, warming it up before letting his fangs descend and ripping into the packet. He moaned, the taste of the blood more delicious than anything he’d ever known before, savoring the feel of it on his tongue.

“Spike?”

Her voice was soft, weak, and Spike tossed the now-empty blood packet into the sink as he walked back to the bed. “Yeah, baby?” he said as he sat beside her.

“Why weren’t you with me?”

“I was hungry,” he replied, brushing her hair away from her eyes. “I got some blood out of the fridge.”

Buffy’s eyes widened, and she scrambled to get out of the bed. “Oh god, Spike, I’m so sorry! Of course you’re hungry. I…I should’ve taken you out as soon as you woke up. That’s what a sire’s supposed to do, and I know I’m not really your sire, but she’s not here, and…”

“Shh… Kitten, it’s all right,” Spike told her as he leaned in to kiss her forehead. “I’m fine. You’re upset, and you need to rest. It’s okay. We’ll go out later, yeah?”

“I need to make sure you’re taken care of…”

“I’m fine, sweetheart. All I need is to take care of you, okay? When’s the last time you fed?”

“Before you…” She stopped and swallowed hard. “Before.”

“I’m going to heat you up some blood, and then I want you to sleep more, all right?” He stroked her long, golden hair, a soft, smile on his face that made her forget he’d changed at all. “You’ve been through so much, lamb. You need to rest.”

Buffy nodded, wrapping the comforter tighter around her as she waited for Spike to come back with blood. She sat up when he was there again, and took the mug he’d fixed for her in her shaking hands. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, pigeon,” he assured her, tucking her hair behind her ear.

Buffy sipped slowly from the mug, needing the blood even though she was too emotionally drained to savor it. She looked at Spike, noting the change in his face, relearning familiar features.

“Your bumpies are sexy,” she said after a long moment.

“Huh?” Spike asked with a frown.

“Your forehead bumpies,” Buffy said, touching her own brow. “They’re sexy. Usually, I think other vampires look kinda ugly, but you’re…” She looked down shyly. “Yours are really hot.”

He grinned. “I’m glad you like them, kitten. I’ve always been a fan of yours, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah.” He licked his lips, a predatory gleam in his eye, and Buffy trembled, wanting to be his prey.

She slid into game face, letting Spike see her demon for the first time since he’d been turned. He reached out for her mug, cupping his hand around it. “Are you done with this?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“Can I shag you now?” Spike asked bluntly.

“I was kinda hoping you would.”

“Kinda?” Spike asked, the scar against his brow stretching.

She lay back on the bed and crooked her finger at him, beckoning him to her. She needed to feel him inside, to know without question that he was the same man she’d fallen in love with. She had no doubt that as soon as he was inside of her, she’d know for certain.

Spike set the mug down on the floor before he was on top of her, growling against her throat as he thrust against her, his erection hard and needy against the buttons of his jeans.

“No foreplay tonight,” Buffy said with a growl, her hands tangling in the blonde curls at the nape of his neck. “I want you inside.”

Spike groaned, lowering his head and scraping his fangs against her neck. Suddenly, he understood exactly why she’d always been drawn to bite him during lovemaking…

They wasted no time in getting rid of their clothes, wanting nothing between them. She raised her legs to his hips, grabbed his cock, and pulled him inside without preamble. Spike bucked, cried out in surprised pleasure, but Buffy sighed softly.

She knew now. She knew…

She kept her hands in his hair as she pulled his face to him, peppering his features with kisses, feeling the ridges of his brow with her lips and tongue. Spike moaned, pumping in and out of her, his arms hooked under her knees, keeping her close to him.

“Buffy, I love you,” he panted, breathing once again, not caring if it was needed when he was so deep inside of her. “I love you so bloody much…”

“I know, Spike,” she whispered in response. “Oh god, I know. I know…”

Already they were both close, the intensity of the moment not allowing for a drawn out coupling. Buffy pitched her hips up, urging him on, and Spike moaned her name over and over again, his thrusts growing in speed, proving he was something other than human now.

Buffy was close…so close…and she looked up at him, her body on the edge as her eyes centered in on his neck, Drusilla’s marks still red and angry against his skin. She growled, her demon rebelling at the fact that any other woman would dare to taste what was hers.

Spike came the moment her fangs were in his neck, roaring her name in animalistic pleasure as she erased the remnants of Drusilla from his flesh. He was hers, only hers. Forever hers…

Still coming inside of her, Spike’s fangs closed in over Angelus’s marks, and Buffy fell with him, stars bursting in front of her eyes. She was complete, whole, and she knew in that moment he was right.

Things were as they should be…

Spike felt as if he’d just truly had sex for the first time. While making love to Buffy had always been amazing, to do it now, with all of his senses heightened…

It was bloody incredible.

The way she’d smelled, the way he’d heard her every gasp, every sigh. The way her skin had felt electric against his…

And god, how he’d been able to move… He’d been thrusting so hard, so fast… And then when she’d bitten him…

It had been the single most incredible experience of his life.

He’d never felt more complete that he had when his fangs were in her neck at the same time hers were in his. His world had both come apart and crashed back together in an instant, and he knew he’d never be the same as he had been before.

Spike couldn’t manage to feel anything but contentment now. Even knowing Drusilla was turned and not dead, even knowing he’d failed to take down Angelus, he felt right. Those were concerns for later. Now was the time to bask in the glow of this new thing he’d found and the woman he chose to share it with.

She had fallen asleep almost immediately, her body too worn down for much exertion. Yet she slept with a small smile on her face, her body curled into his, and Spike knew she’d felt what he had.

The outside world couldn’t touch this moment. It was theirs.

He ran his hand along the skin of her back, feeling tingles rush up his spine as he marveled at how intense something as simple as that felt now. He was waking up for the first time, the world sharp, crisp, clear.

She murmured in her sleep and pressed herself closer to him. Spike’s arms grew tighter around her, and she sighed and nuzzled into him, as if instinctively seeking more of him. His one regret was that it had been Drusilla and not Buffy herself to bring him into this world, though he understood her reluctance, and was grateful to Dru for doing it, even if he knew it had been difficult for Buffy. This is how it had to be and somehow, he thought Dru knew that, too.

Spike pressed his lips right below her hairline and breathed in deeply. The softness of her skin, the richness of her scent… He could happily drown in her forever…

As soon as he finally gave Angelus what he deserved, Spike vowed to take her far away from here, take her somewhere beautiful. Lose himself in her for centuries.

She whispered his name in her sleep and Spike smiled against her. He knew she had her doubts and fears and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t have some of his own. But for the first time in such a very long time he felt as if he belonged somewhere, as if he belonged with someone.

The sun was rising outside the apartment, and Spike could feel its pull. He tucked Buffy’s head at the crook of his neck, closed his eyes, and fell asleep with a smile on his face.

*** *** ***

Spike woke as the sun drifted over the horizon, the need to feed pulling him from a deep slumber. He opened his eyes and found Buffy watching him, her gaze running over his features as if she were searching for something.

“What is it, pet?” Spike asked softly, his hand gentle against her cheek, the look on her face making him worried he could spook her.

“Do you still love me today, Spike?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Spike replied, pulling her into his arms. “I love you. I’ll love you forever. I can promise you that.”

Buffy’s arms tightened around him. “Can you?”

“Yes.”

“I’m still scared I’ll lose you. Everything’s different for you now, Spike. What if you decide you don’t love me? Or…or what if you decide you love her still?”

Spike brought her head away from his chest and clutched her face in his hands, looking intently at her. “I love you.”

She shook against him, and Spike didn’t know if he’d ever find a way to make words enough for her – and after the years she’d spent subject to her sire’s fickle whims, he couldn’t blame the poor girl.

So he rolled her over instead, pushed his way into her body, making her cry out. She tried to close her eyes, but Spike pulled out and thrust back in hard, and they snapped back open. “No. Don’t close your eyes. Look at me.”

His hips pumped a smooth, steady rhythm, his eyes blue and open as he watched her beneath him. “Tell me what you see, Buffy. Tell me.”

She clung to his biceps, holding his gaze as he’d asked, until finally she gasped and gave him his answer.

“Forever…”

*** *** ***

He remembered fearing this once, but as he watched Buffy dancing around him, her body calling to him, he couldn’t remember why. The past ten years – no, his whole life – were like a dream now. Something pushing on the edge of his mind, but not reality.

She called to him like a siren, and he ran after her, grinning as her laughter echoed through the alleyway as she let him chase her. Warm blood flowed through his veins, giving life where there should be none.

Her feet fell through puddles from an earlier rain, light from a nearby streetlamp illuminating the droplets, surrounding her in something ethereal. Spike knew if she could see inside him now, if she could cut him open and see how his heart would never stop beating for her, she’d never doubt his promise of eternity again.

Buffy had almost escaped the alley when Spike grabbed her, pulling her back in with him, her back pressed tightly against his front. “Trying to escape, little girl?” he whispered against her ear, bringing shivers to Buffy’s flesh.

“I heard there was a big, bad vampire in this alley,” Buffy replied with mock-fear. “I thought I should escape.”

Spike’s chuckle was low, and the vibrations went through her like trembles. “Is that so?” He spun her around quickly, pinning her against the wall. “I think it’s too late. The vampire’s already got you.”

His eyes were gold, his fangs glinted in the low light, and Buffy didn’t think he’d ever looked more desirable. She wanted to stop being afraid, to believe she’d really gotten Spike forever – and a Spike she could truly share herself with completely with at that. She’d worried about how he’d react when it came time to feed, but he’d moved like a predator, never hesitating in what he had to do.

It amazed her how much it had turned her on…

She couldn’t lose this. In the years since Angelus had turned her, she’d never felt anything so perfect as being in Spike’s arms now. His mouth had gone to her neck, licking and sucking the mark he’d put there the night before, and she couldn’t help but gasp for air she didn’t need. Even with all his assurances that this was forever, she couldn’t let go of the nagging feeling that she was destined to lose him – that she could never be lucky enough to know happiness like this without end.

“I want to leave Los Angeles.”

Spike pressed a kiss against her neck. “Of course, luv. As soon as Angelus is dust, we’ll go wherever you want.”

Buffy stiffened in Spike’s arms a moment before she pushed him away. He stumbled a bit before regaining his balance, then tilted his head as he regarded her with confusion. “Buffy, what’s wrong?”

“You still want to kill Angelus?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because the last time you tried you died!” Buffy yelled at him. “Dammit, Spike, are you insane? We can’t take him on. Next time you might be dust!”

“But we came close!” Spike argued. “And I’m stronger now.”

Buffy lifted her head, stubbornness set into her features. “No. I’m not letting you do this.”

“There’s not really any way for you to stop me, Buffy,” Spike countered. “I have to do this.”

“For her.” The venom in her words left no doubt as to who she meant.

“No, not just for her,” Spike replied. “For you. For what he did to you.”

“If you want to do something for me, then don’t go after him at all! Please, Spike. Let’s just go somewhere far, far away. Someplace where it can be just the two of us. Where we can be in love and Angelus and Drusilla can’t touch us. Please…”

Spike shook his head. “There is no place like that. Don’t you get it, Buffy? As long as he’s out there, he’s going to haunt us. He’ll always be out there somewhere, and we’ll never know if he’ll find us again. I can’t live like that.”

“It wouldn’t be that way! Spike, Angelus doesn’t want me. He made that perfectly clear. He’d not going to come after us, ever.”

“Can you really be sure of that? Can you?” Spike lunged forward, his outstretched arms pinning Buffy against the brick wall of the alley. “Tell me you can really live completely without fear. Tell me he’s not going to haunt your dreams, too.”

Buffy turned her head to the side, tears glistening in her eyes. “Spike, please. I just want to forget him.”

“So do I. But we can’t as long as he’s still out there. We have to do this, Buffy.”

She turned back towards him suddenly and pushed him away again. “I don’t want to face him again!” she screamed.

“We’ll get him this time, Buffy. You don’t have to be afraid.”

“But I am. God, Spike, don’t you get it?”

“Look, Buffy, I know what he did to you, but…”

“This isn’t about me. I don’t care about me.”

“Buffy…”

“You were dead, Spike!”

She screamed the words at him with such emotion that Spike took a step back. “But I wasn’t, kitten. I was…”

“I didn’t know that,” Buffy said, shaking her head. “I saw you, lifeless on the ground, and I didn’t…” She shook, fighting her sobs. “I didn’t know. And until you woke, I still wasn’t sure. I thought I’d lost you, Spike, and I can’t do that. I need you.”

Spike grabbed her and pulled her into his arms, holding her as she cried. “You won’t lose me, Buffy. I promise you. You won’t lose me.”

“You can’t make that promise.”

Spike put his hand beneath her chin and tipped her face up. “Yes, I can. We’re forever, you and me. I can feel it, Buffy. Knew it the first time I touched you.”

“I don’t want him to take you from me. He’s taken everything from me, Spike – he can’t have you, too.”

“He won’t. There’s nothing that could tear me from your side. Nothing. I’d take on the legions of Hell to stay in your arms.”

“I’d waste away to dust without you.”

“I know, pet,” Spike said, wrapping her tightly in his embrace again. “I know.”

“You’re not going after him without me.”

Spike chuckled softly and kissed the crown of her head. “I know, sweetheart. Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“And I can’t promise you I won’t stake her if I see her.”

Spike tensed, but didn’t let go of her. “I know.”

*** *** ***

The fell together to the sheets, bare limbs entwined, lips and tongues seeking a taste. The outside world fell away as the sun rose behind closed curtains, two lovers lost in only each other.

Tomorrow they would face the darkness again.

Tomorrow they would put their demons to rest.

Until then, they would take solace in each other and seal a promise of forever.

Buffy didn’t want to be nervous. She knew her fear wouldn’t benefit either of them, but the thought of going back into that house after what had happened the last time…

If Spike didn’t make it out, Buffy knew she’d lose it completely. She’d been too broken, brought to the point where she depended on him wholly. If she didn’t have him, she’d no longer have anything.

He was her tormenter and her savior, and she needed him.

“There’s no way I can talk you out of this?”

Spike turned towards her at the question, his eyes warm though determined. “We have to, sweetheart.”

“Just don’t leave me. Please, Spike. I know it sounds corny, but I’d dust without you. I wouldn’t have a reason to go on anymore.” She looked down at her hands, her eyes focusing on the last of the quickly fading burns. “I’ve already lost too much.”

Spike crossed the room to her and took her hands in his, his thumbs rubbing over the almost-healed skin. “We’re both going to make it through this, kitten. I promise you.”

“You said that last time, too,” Buffy pointed out.

“Yeah, and we did.”

Buffy looked up him sharply, her eyes wide. “But you’re…”

“I am,” Spike acknowledged, cutting her off before she had to say the words. “But we’re both still here, and we’re together. That’s the important part, Buffy, and it’s not going to change. Ever.”

“We should be running, Spike. We should be getting far away from here and from him.”

“Can’t do that,” Spike said, shaking his head. “I don’t run. Not like that.”

“You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

Spike remembered watching Drusilla fall apart, remembered the moment he’d found her body, and met Buffy in the eye. “Yes, I do.”

“I…” Buffy pulled away and turned her back on him. “Can’t we give it another night?”

Spike wrapped his arms around her and brought her to him again. “No. The sooner the better, luv. It’s already been days, and the more time that passes, the more of a chance Angelus has to build up his forces. We need to strike now while there’s still a chance he hasn’t been able to replace all the minions we offed.”

Buffy knew he was right, and she knew she was only trying to stall the inevitable. As much as she hated to admit it, they did need to truly put Angelus behind them – though realizing that didn’t ease her fear that they wouldn’t succeed if they tried. “Don’t think I won’t give you a huge ‘I told you so’ if you get dusted,” she said, though Spike could hear the fear beneath her jest.

“And then I’d completely deserve it, but it’s not going to be necessary.”

“You better make sure it isn’t,” Buffy replied, trying to smile at him though she wiped her eyes.

Spike pressed a lingering kiss against her forehead. “I already promised you forever, baby, and I’m not breaking my word.”

Hoping it wouldn’t be the last time, Buffy tangled her fingers in his hair and brought his mouth to hers.

*** *** ***

The closer they got to the mansion, the more afraid Buffy grew. She’d never been so scared of anything – not even her own death.

She had no fear at the thought of facing Angelus. There was nothing he could do to her that he hadn’t already.

But if she lost Spike…

Buffy wasn’t going to let that happen.

She’d seen it on the way out the door and a plan had formed quickly in her mind. It was crazy, she knew, and Spike was going to be royally pissed off at her afterwards, but at least he wouldn’t be dust.

She’d kept it tucked in her jeans since they’d left the apartment, and she’d spent the entire drive worried he’d see it and her plan would be ruined. But he was parking the car now, and Buffy knew soon, it would be over.

Spike would be safe…

He twisted the key in the ignition, cutting off the car, and Buffy reached out and touched his face, guiding him closer to her. He didn’t hesitate in moving nearer, in letting his guard down to kiss her.

She’d feel a bit guilty if it weren’t for his own good…

Buffy moved quickly, pressing the taser to Spike’s side before he had a chance to see what she was doing. She winced as he convulsed against her until he slumped unconscious in the seat.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Buffy whispered, dropping the taser. She took a deep breath to clear her head then moved quickly, knowing she was working on a time schedule now. She got out of the car and went around to the driver’s side, taking Spike out and then dragging him into the back, laying him out on the seats, hoping it would call less attention to him that way.

She whispered another apology with a brush of a kiss against his forehead, then grabbed two stakes, tucked them into her waistband, and left Spike and the DeSoto behind.

Buffy pushed her fear to the back of her mind as she walked towards the mansion. She had no reason to be afraid anymore. Spike was safe.

She just needed to finish this before he woke up and came after her…

Buffy went in through the sewers again, moving silently through the tunnels until she reached the underground entrance to the mansion. She slipped inside easily, ready to fight whomever was posted as guards tonight.

Only there was no one.

Buffy gripped one of the stakes in her hand as she moved into the main part of the mansion, ready for a fight.

Again, she found nothing but quiet.

Eerie quiet…

She would’ve thought the building had been abandoned had her senses not been screaming at her that her sire was close. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and she gripped her stake tighter.

Buffy knew Angelus well enough to know when she was being toyed with, but she didn’t care. One way or another, her history with him was ending that night.

“Scared to show your face, Angelus?” Buffy yelled, her voice echoing in the empty room. “Why don’t you pretend to be a man for once and come out and face me?”

Angelus’s answering laugh sounded from somewhere in the shadows, and Buffy fought against her own anxiety. Part of her longed to have Spike by her side now, though she knew it was for the best to keep him where he was out of harm’s way.

“You’re not amusing, you know!” Buffy shouted back. “All you ever do is hide in the shadows and play your little mind games. You never have the guts to face anyone like a man. You’re pathetic, Angelus. I can’t believe I wasted so many years with you.”

Angelus tsked as he stepped out into the moonlight streaming in from the windows. “Buffy, Buffy, Buffy. Look at you, pretending to be tough. You and I both know what you are, baby. You’re just a stupid little girl who isn’t any use unless her legs are in the air.”

“And what, that’s supposed to hurt my feelings?” Buffy snapped. “I’m not yours anymore, Angelus. There’s nothing you can say or do to hurt me anymore.”

His grin was cruel as it spread across his face. “That so, sweetheart? I think I can hurt you. I think I can hurt you a lot.”

“No, you can’t,” Buffy said with a shake of her head.

He took a step closer, and Buffy could see the coldness in his dark eyes. “Wanna make a bet? Drusilla, darling, why don’t you bring our other guest in here?”

Buffy gasped as Drusilla walked into the room, Spike – still unconscious – slung over her shoulder. She wondered why she hadn’t felt Spike near until she realized what Angelus had been doing with his taunting.

He’d been keeping her distracted while Drusilla went to get Spike.

“You’ve been a naughty sister,” Drusilla said, snapping her jaws at Buffy. “I gave you a gift and you left it outside to get dirty. I think she needs to be punished, Daddy.”

“Oh yeah, Dru. She needs to be punished,” Angelus said with a cruel grin. “And I’m going to like being the one to punish her.”

Drusilla lowered Spike to the ground and Angelus pulled his own stake out from his pocket. He knelt down over Spike, the stake pressing lightly against the unconscious vampire’s heart. “So I can’t hurt you, Buffy?” he asked smugly.

“Please,” Buffy begged, the sound of her own needy voice making her sick. She didn’t know if she could move fast enough to stake Angelus before he staked Spike, especially with Drusilla in the mix.

Spike was helpless to Angelus’s whims, and it was all her fault.

She’d made him vulnerable. If they actually did manage to get out of this, she wouldn’t be surprised if he never forgave her.

“My pixies whispered to me you’d be coming,” Drusilla hissed, spinning in a circle beside Angelus. “They told me you’d come and we could play a game.”

“This isn’t a game!” Buffy shouted. “He’s got a stake over the heart of your husband! Didn’t you love him at all?”

“Oh but the best games are played with death,” Drusilla replied with a laugh that managed to be both childlike and sinister. “Did Daddy teach you nothing?”

“Just drop your weapons and kick them over here, Buffy,” Angelus said tersely.

Buffy wanted to cry, but she didn’t. She wouldn’t. She dropped both her stakes to the ground and kicked them towards Angelus. Drusilla moved to pick them up, taking them beyond Buffy’s reach.

“Tell me I can hurt you, Buffy.”

Buffy shuddered as her eyes zeroed in on Angelus’s stake poised to take away the man she loved. “You can hurt me,” she said softly.

“Louder, bitch.”

“You can hurt me,” Buffy said again.

“Louder!”

Her head snapped up and she looked him in the eye before shouting, “You can hurt me!”

“Tell me you belong to me.”

The words stuck in her throat like bile, and Buffy glared coldly at him.

Angelus raised the stake to strike, and Buffy screamed the words.

“I belong to you!”

“Tell me you’re my whore.”

Hot, angry tears pricked the corner of her eyes, but she would never let them fall. “I’m your whore,” she ground out, her whole body tensing with hatred of the words.

“That’s right, bitch. You’re my whore. You should be on your knees begging to suck my cock, not thinking you can run off with this worthless piece of crap fledgling.” He trailed the stake over Spike’s chest. “He could never please you like I do, Buff.”

Buffy clenched her fists, her fingernails cutting deep red crescents into the skin of her palms.

“Tell me I’m right, Buffy. Tell me how only I can please you.”

She didn’t think she’d ever hated someone more in her life as she did when she told Angelus what he wanted to hear. “Only you can please me.”

“Mmm. Music to my ears. All that fire and hatred in there. It’s gonna feel so good breaking you again. It’ll be just like the old days. Think I can still make you bleed just from fucking you?”

“I won’t let you touch me again,” Buffy said, her words a growl. “I’d dust before I let you put your hands on me.”

“No, baby, I don’t think you will. But your little boyfriend here? Well, he’s a different story. I think the first time I take you will be right here, on his dust. How’s that sound?”

Buffy screamed as Angelus raised his hand, the stake coming down towards Spike’s heart. She lunged for him, even though she knew she could never make it in time.

The stake centimeters from his heart, Spike’s eyes shot open, a roar sounding from him as they changed to feral gold.

He grabbed Angelus’s wrist and the stake clamored to the ground.

The stake seemed to roll in slow motion to the floor as Buffy watched it move away from Spike’s heart. The sound of Drusilla squealing in delight and clapping her hands echoed in Buffy’s ears, but her focus stayed on the two male vampires.

Spike jumped up from the ground, snarling as he finally faced off against Angelus. Angelus snarled back, his features shifting into gameface. “I took you out once, boy. You’ve even got that scar over your eye to prove it. Don’t think just because Drusilla gave you a little bite that you’ll do any better tonight.”

“I was a weaker man ten years ago, and I still escaped from you alive, Angelus,” Spike snarled in response. “You can’t intimidate me with this.”

“I don’t have to intimidate you to kill you, boy. I’ll see that you’re dust, and then I’m going to fuck that little bitch you think is yours.”

Spike roared in anger, lunging at Angelus. They tumbled to the ground, fists and fangs flying. Buffy’s eyes darted from Angelus and Spike to the stakes still on the ground, and she moved towards one, reaching to grab it.

Drusilla flew at her before she could, screeching and clawing at Buffy with her nails. Buffy stumbled back, Drusilla’s attack throwing her off balance. The other vampire was wild, yelling things that Buffy couldn’t comprehend, and she struggled to defend herself.

“You’ll ruin the game!” Drusilla yelled a she pulled at Buffy’s hair. “You mustn’t ruin my game!”

“Get off me, you crazy bitch!” Buffy snarled, pushing at Drusilla. She managed to get away for a moment, but then Drusilla was back, screaming and clawing again.

Buffy cried out when Dru’s nails ran over her face, drawing blood. Spike turned at the sound, and Angelus took the opportunity to strike, knocking Spike off him and into the wall.

Buffy yelled again when she saw Angelus grab one of the stakes, though this time, her cry was a warning to Spike. He jumped up, expecting Angelus to come for him with the stake.

He didn’t. Instead, he went for Buffy, knocking Drusilla to the ground and grabbing Buffy, pinning her to his chest with the stake at her heart.

“Well, lookie what I’ve got here.”

Spike held out his hands. “Let her go, Angelus. This can just be between us – man to man.”

“See, I don’t think so. I kind of like it like this. How about you, Buffy? Helpless and at my mercy – just like old times.” Angelus put his nose against her hair and sniffed. “Yeah, that’s nice. You’re afraid.”

“Go to hell, Angelus,” Buffy snarled. “You aren’t going to intimidate me.”

“I’ve got a stake at your heart, bitch. I don’t have to intimidate you to dust you.”

Buffy looked across the room at Spike and met his eyes. She could see his fear at the thought of losing her, and knew she had to be strong. She had to make it through this.

They hadn’t had their shot at forever yet…

She closed her eyes for a moment, steadying herself before they snapped open again and she stiffened in Angelus’s arms, standing proud even as he taunted her. “No, but you want to. That’s the only way you can get off, isn’t it – by making your women feel weak. You’re such a pathetic excuse for a man that the only way you can get hard is by making someone else feel lower than you.”

“Shut up, you worthless slut! Don’t think I won’t dust you.”

“Go ahead,” Buffy replied. “Will it make you feel big and strong, Angelus? Will it make you feel like something other than the pathetic little boy your daddy couldn’t love?”

Angelus bellowed in anger as he threw Buffy to the ground. “I told you to shut your mouth! I’ll tear you apart, whore!”

Spike seized the opportunity and lunged across the room, tackling Angelus as he went for Buffy again. The two vampires began to wrestle for the stake, and Buffy reached for the other only to be attacked by Drusilla again.

This time, she wasn’t going to play the other woman’s game.

Buffy kicked out hard, sending Drusilla flying, then grabbed the stake. Drusilla faltered when she saw Buffy was armed before she reached for her hair, pulling at it as she screamed.

“These aren’t the rules! You’re breaking the rules!”

Buffy had had enough. She rushed across the room to Drusilla and pinned her against the wall, stake against her heart. “I don’t care about your fucking rules. All I really want to do right now is dust you for what you’ve done.” She took a deep breath, her hand shaking. “But he loved you once.”

Buffy stepped back, letting Drusilla go. “This is the only time I’ll show you mercy. Run before I change my mind.”

Drusilla looked at Buffy, and something almost like sanity passed across her face for a moment. “Take care of my William?”

“He isn’t yours. Not anymore.”

“I know. He was never truly mine. Always waiting for you…” Her voice held a sense of mourning, but Buffy had no pity.

Drusilla ran from the mansion, and Buffy let her go.

After all, she had more important things to worry about now. She turned back to Angelus and Spike, watching as Angelus brought the stake to Spike’s heart again, only to have Spike swipe it away. The stake fell to the ground, and Angelus reached for it again. Spike freed his left hand and knocked Angelus in the jaw, making the larger man’s head loll back.

Spike took advantage of the moment to push Angelus off him, before jumping to his feet. Angelus moved to get up as well, but Spike kicked him in the gut, making him collapse again.

“Spike!”

He turned at the sound of Buffy’s voice and watched as she sent the stake she’d been holding flying through the air. Spike caught it with ease, then moved back to Angelus, heaving him up by the collar of his shirt and slamming him into the wall.

Angelus took deep, shuddering breaths as she struggled unsuccessfully against Spike’s hold. The tip of the stake barely pierced his flesh, leaving no doubt in his mind that he was facing the end.

“Afraid, Angelus?” Spike sneered, his gold eyes flashing with hate. “How does it feel to be the one on the bottom for once?”

“You can’t do it, boy,” Angelus said, though the tremor in his voice belied the words. “You don’t have the balls.”

Spike sneered, refusing to take the bait, recognizing it as the last-ditch effort of a dying man. “My only regret is this will be too easy on you. You should’ve suffered.”

But he wasn’t going to take the chance Angelus would find a way to escape. For Buffy and Drusilla and all the other women he’d made suffer, that he’d broken and turned into his playthings, Spike was going to end this now.

He shoved the stake into Angelus’s heart, watching the fear and anguish pass through his eyes before he burst into dust and there was nothing left of him at all.

Spike threw the stake on the ground and stepped away, breathing with shaky, irregular pants. Buffy ran to him, and he grabbed her, pulling her against his chest and wrapping his arms around her.

“It’s over,” she said softly, her hands tight around the fabric of his t-shirt. “It’s over.”

“Yeah, it is,” he replied, his eyes on the pile of Angelus’s ashes.

For long moments, he simply held her, letting it all sink in. After ten years, he’d finally fulfilled the promise he’d made to a woman whose heart would never beat for him again. The end hadn’t come the way he’d thought it would, but it had come all the same, and that was what mattered.

He took a step back, his hands on Buffy’s shoulders as he looked into her eyes and asked the question that was forefront in his mind.

“You tasered me? Honestly, Buffy, what were you thinking?”

Buffy looked at him sheepishly. “I was thinking I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“God, you bloody little idiot,” Spike replied, though he couldn’t find it in himself to really be angry with her given what had just happened. He tugged her back into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “In the future, let’s try to keep the tasering down to a minimum, yeah?”

She raised her head, an impish smirk on her face. “I will if you will.”

Spike laughed, reminded of exactly why he loved this woman. She was amazing, and she was his.

And they would have their forever.

His expression grew serious again as he ran his hand down to her cheek. “I love you.”

Buffy nodded and put her hand over his. “I love you, too.”

Finally free and with his past behind him, Spike started his new life with a kiss.