The Better To Bite You With by Joyful Dayz
Summary: Season 5: Buffy has discovered that The Hellgod Glorificus captured and tortured Spike in an attempt to make him tell her where the key was. This is the “fang fic” that tried to barge its way into “A New Day”.
Categories: General NC-17 Fics Characters: None
Genres: Action, Romance
Warnings: Sexual Situations, Violence
Series: None
Chapters: 11 Completed: Yes Word count: 25451 Read: 23348 Published: 05/31/2009 Updated: 06/04/2010

1. Chapter 1 - Deadly Pet by Joyful Dayz

2. Chapter 2 - The Beginning of the End by Joyful Dayz

3. Chapter 3 - Yours by Joyful Dayz

4. Chapter 4 - Soul Mate by Joyful Dayz

5. Chapter 5 - If You Loved Her by Joyful Dayz

6. Chapter 6 - In the Beginning by Joyful Dayz

7. Chapter 7 - What Big Teeth You Have by Joyful Dayz

8. Chapter 8 - by Joyful Dayz

9. Chapter 9 - Not a Dirty Little Secret by Joyful Dayz

10. Chapter 10 - Cherished by Joyful Dayz

11. Chapter 11 - Peace by Joyful Dayz

Chapter 1 - Deadly Pet by Joyful Dayz
Author's Notes:
Disclaimer: Spike, Buffy and company aren’t mine. I just like to play with other people’s toys. I promise to return them happier than they were when I borrowed them. A few of my favorite lines from “Intervention” follow. They were just too good to leave out. (All these years later, I still snicker over the Buffybot.) No copyright infringement is intended. I’d appreciate any comments/suggestions you may have. Thanks for reading. ‘Single quotes are thoughts’. I've reworked all chaps.

Chapter 1 – Deadly Pet

Buffy fumed as she marched across town towards the cemetery that held Spike’s crypt. Her stride was militant, her arms pumping powerfully. She was angry with herself for not dusting him long ago. “Why didn’t I ever stake that annoying menace?” she punched her fist through the air, simulating the neglected duty. She’d been kidding herself, believing he was harmless. “What was I thinking?! I knew better than that! Why didn’t I consider what would happen if our enemies ever caught him?...Why didn’t I just do my job?” She struggled to turn her thoughts inward, reluctantly admitting that she wasn’t big on self-examination, and searched for the reason he was still among the walking dead.

Spike’s soulful blue eyes and charming smile flashed before her, and Buffy’s clenched fists loosened. Her footsteps eventually slowed as the unthinkable forced its way into her head and refused to be brushed off. Finally she shook her head and admitted to herself, ‘O.K. So he’s hot, but...No! I don’t have feelings for him...No, that’s impossible. I don’t, do I? I?!?...ewww!...I do?...gah!’

Mind and body stalling in shock, she stared blankly ahead for several seconds. Finally Buffy shook her head and for the first time, allowed herself to consciously consider Spike’s physical attributes. His deep blue eyes...Mmm, she loved them. They were so expressive, liquid and warm as he smiled at her, or icy and frozen when he was angry. Somehow he had always been able to see inside her with those blue eyes, understanding her better than anyone else, better than she understood herself. Those eyes infuriated her as often as not, they were too knowing, it wasn’t fair that he should be so knowing. Vamps should be clueless.

His hair...who would ever have thought that bleached blonde hair could be sexy on a man? What was with him plastering it down like he did, anyway? Her fingers itched to run through those sternly controlled locks and rumple them into unruly curls. ‘He prob’ly keeps his hair pasted down like that just to tempt me to mess it up!’ She grumped.

Thoughts of running her fingers through his hair brought fantasies of tracing her fingers over the sharp angles of his cheekbones. She sighed just thinking of them, so beautiful. From his cheekbones Buffy mentally ran her hands down the ripple and flow of his hard muscles. Her first glimpse of his sculptured pecs and abs through a torn shirt had fascinated her. Repeatedly she’d caught herself ogling him on the sly as they cleaned their wounds after patrolling. She had to concentrate not to be distracted by his body’s magnificence as they fought...and his arms...she’d always been a sucker for a good pair of muscular masculine arms. ‘Heh, tongue twister there - muscular masculine man – no,’ she groaned. ‘Not man! Monster!...O.K., fine. Muscular masculine monster,’ Buffy squabbled with herself.

She closed her eyes and sighed over her foolishness, which brought Spike’s lips to her mind. His upper lip, so beautifully shaped, the lower one full and tempting. They begged her to lick and taste them, to test their softness with her own. Floundering in the memory of those lips pressed passionately to hers during Willow’s ‘My will be done’ spell last year; she longed to feel them again, to thrill in the thrust of his tongue in her mouth.

Oh, and she couldn’t forget his hands! Those cool, talented hands, stroking and molding her, had sent tremors through her entire body, and yet again caused warmth to pool in her core as she remembered their touch. Those lethal hands had been so tender during Willow’s spell; would be so tender now, if only she let him...oh, why hadn’t the spell lasted long enough for him to get her into bed then, when she’d have had a good excuse...’

“Oh my God!” Buffy cried, appalled with herself. ‘I’ve done it again! I’ve put my loved ones in danger while I lust after an evil monster!’ Shuddering, she saw visions in her head of Angelus rampaging through Sunnydale while she dithered and bleated over her heartache. Less than an hour ago she’d been protesting adamantly against Xander’s sympathy for Spike losing the Buffybot. She was so out of touch with her feelings that this time around she hadn’t even admitted to herself that she had wanted the bleached fiend; she’d just selfishly kept him like a pet, a deadly pet. She snorted at her self-delusions. “Oh, no, he can’t hurt anyone, he’s impotent now, he can’t even stick to a plan, blah, blah, blah,” the diminutive blonde mocked herself in a high pitched voice, and entered the cemetery, resuming her determined march towards the vampire.

Feeling sick, Buffy faced for the first time the reality that even with his fists tied and his fangs pulled by the chip, he had other weapons at hand. ‘He’s smart and sneaky. Spike knows us; knows both our secrets and our weaknesses. There’s nothing wrong with his brain or his mouth,’ she rebuked herself, ‘He always finds a way to get himself out of sticky situations. He undoubtedly flapped his gums to Glory about everything he knows...all he knows about Dawnie.’ The closer she moved towards his crypt, the more downcast she became. Pulling at her hair she moaned, ‘How can I protect her now? We’ll have to run, but where can we hide that a Hellgod can’t find us?’

Arriving outside Spike’s tomb, Buffy took several deep breaths and forced herself to calm down. She needed to find out exactly what he had told Glory so she could plan their escape. Buffy paced back and forth until her trembling stopped and her breathing evened out. Nervously smoothing the outfit she’d taken off the Buffybot, she rehearsed her strategy; trick him into telling ‘skirt girl’ what he had revealed to Glory; then she’d put him down. Never again would she allow her weakness for dangerous men to interfere with her mission and jeopardize all she held dear. Pasting a perky look on her face to mimic the robot, she pushed the door open and entered the gloomy chamber with a bounce in her step.

Spike lay motionless on top of his sarcophagus. Buffy froze, horrified. Un-breathing, he looked dead, like a corpse that had been run over by a truck. Bruises covered his entire body; his face was so slashed, swollen and discolored that he was barely recognizable. He was unclothed, his torn and bloody shirt draped haphazardly over his loins, as if he had passed out while undressing. His left upper arm was oddly angled, obviously broken. The shoulder on that side lay lower than the other. It was dislocated as well. Cuts and bruising on his wrists showed he had been chained and hung by his hands. Red and purple discolorations, swelling, and deformities covering his rib cage revealed fractures there. A bloody hole was gouged into his chest. Over his left breast a strip of skin had been torn away. None of his wounds were healing.

Staring at the vampire in shock, Buffy’s new resolve to stake him crumbled. Xander had told her that Spike looked thrashed, but she hadn’t imagined anything like this. A deep rage sprang into her heart over Spike being hurt because of her. This was her fault. Glory had beaten and tortured Spike to force him to tell her about the key. Apparently he had resisted long and hard before succumbing. Glory would pay. But she still had to find out what he had told the hag. Ruthlessly Buffy shoved her anger down into a corner of her heart to be indulged later and lightly touched his shoulder with a finger. He groaned, opened his eyes, and cradling one arm against his chest, struggled to sit up.

Channeling the Buffybot, she exclaimed, “Spike, you’re covered in sexy wounds,”

“Yeah, I feel real sexy,” he groaned. Looking at her blearily with the eye that wasn’t swollen completely closed, he asked curiously, “Where you been?”

“I fell down and got confused. Willow fixed me. She’s Gay.” Buffy smiled brightly, hiding her trepidation over his reaction. ‘I should have thought of a better reason for the bot’s tardiness before dealing with him,’ worried Buffy.

His full attention captured, he asked guardedly, “Will fixed you? I thought they’d melt you into scrap.” ‘Odd,’ thought Spike. ‘Can’t see them fixing her and letting her come back to me. What’s the sly little bint up to now?’

“They were confused too.” Then, inspiration striking, she blinded him with a smile. “Do you want to ravage me now?”

His heart tripped, but with pain flaring in every part of his body, the most Spike could work up was a faint grin. He answered softly, “Give us a minute, got some bones need mending.”

‘Whew,’ thought Buffy, ‘close call. Willow fixing the bot was the weak spot in the plan. Luckily he thinks with his dick and the thought of ravaging me sidetracked him. ‘Eww, idiot girl. When have I ever felt lucky to have Spike hot for me? Focus, Buffy.’ “Why did you let that Glory hurt you?”

Sitting motionless in an attempt to decrease the agony of movement, he answered quietly. “She wanted to know who the Key was.”

Buffy immediately turned away and walked towards the door of the crypt, calling over her shoulder, “I can tell her and then you won’t need to...”

His gaze had been following the glide of her skirt over her heart shaped bottom, but at those words Spike burst out anxiously, “No!” then succumbed to a coughing spasm before he could finish, “You can’t, ever. Glory never finds out.”

Buffy turned back and looked at him with a bewildered expression, “Why?”

“Because Buffy, the other, not so pleasant Buffy...anything happened to Dawn, it’d destroy her. ‘Couldn’t live with her being in that much pain. I’d let Glory kill me first, bloody nearly did.”

And with that, Buffy knew they had all misjudged Spike badly. They hadn’t been able see past his being a vampire, couldn’t look beyond the days when he’d tried to kill them. But he had changed, just like he’d told her. He hadn’t betrayed Dawn. She guessed she should have known that he wouldn’t, for he was nothing if not loyal. Spike had stayed with crazy ho bag Drusilla for over a century.

Buffy walked up to him, leaned forward and gently pressed her lips to his swollen and bruised ones, thinking, ‘He says that he loves me. Who am I to judge? He believes it; that’s what matters.’

As their lips touched, shock went through Spike and he knew immediately that it wasn’t the bot kissing him, it was the Slayer. He’d never forget the feel of her lips on his. He pulled away, looking at her incredulously, and after hesitating for a moment asked, “And my robot?”

She backed up several steps and stared at him coldly, disgusted anew at the thought of him making and using an imitation of her. “The robot is gone. It was gross and obscene.”

He attempted to interrupt, but she overrode him with, “That, that thing...It wasn’t even real.” He hung his head in defeat and she stared at him silently for a minute before relenting. Walking back to Spike, she placed her hand under his chin and lifted it to look in his eyes. “What you did for me and Dawn, that was real. I won’t forget it.”

He’d been drowning in a pit of despair, convinced that he had forever buggered any chance with her by having the bot made. It had been one of his all time worst ideas. Her words gave him hope that against all odds, she might forgive him for his stupidity. He stared at her, probing for her thoughts.

Buffy glanced down, uncomfortable with his piercing look, and decided that it was time for a change of topic. Inspecting his injuries more closely, she realized, ‘Your cuts are still oozing. Why aren’t they closing yet?”

He glanced away and responded, “Low on blood; lost too much to heal.” Then he looked at her straight on, raised an eyebrow and asked boldly, “Be a pet and bring me some from the ice box, will you?” He’d always been one to stare defeat in the eye and face it down. ‘Might as well act as you mean to go on, you wanker,’ he chided himself. ‘Contrary little chit is less likely forgive and forget if you grovel.’

Buffy considered him for a moment, debating whether or not to bop him on the nose for his cheek, then deciding that he’d suffered enough for one day, shrugged and walked over to the old fridge. She reflected on the ingenuity Spike had shown in rigging up electricity for the tomb. One thing she’d gotten right. He was smart, really smart. Vampires had a tendency to live the lifestyle of their own time period. Not Spike. He learned new technology as it developed and adapted with the times. She pulled out a bag of ‘AB Negative’. Staring at it, she murmured without thinking, “My blood will do a better job of healing you than this.”

Chapter 2 - The Beginning of the End by Joyful Dayz
Author's Notes:
Spike, Buffy and company aren’t mine. I just like to play with other people’s toys. I promise to return them happier than they were when I borrowed them.
Chapter 2 – The Beginning of the End

Spike gawked at her, speechless for once. ‘She’s offering me Slayer blood?! Is she going to let me off the hook after all, or does she just need me strong so she can use me again?’ In either case, he wasn’t going to take her up on it. ‘Things’ve certainly changed over the past few months,’ he thought wryly. ‘Now she’s offering herself and I’m turning her down. Dru’d get a laugh out of that.’ Aloud, he finally answered with a mild, “No thanks, love. The bagged stuff is human, it’ll work fine.”

Buffy had had second thoughts the moment she said it, horrified that the words had slipped out of her mouth. When Spike turned her down, though, her thinking did an abrupt about face. ‘Who is he to reject my blood when I say I’ll donate it to him?’ Placing the bag back in the fridge and closing the door, she walked over to him, and with hands on hips, said sternly, “Spike...”

His face flattened into an expressionless mask. “No. I won’t drink you.”

His turn of phrase set her back a bit, ‘He won’t drink me...’ She hesitated a moment, then pushed past the feeling of danger in that thought and leaned over him scowling. “You need me!” Even as she said it, Buffy wondered why she was pushing it. Why didn’t she just let it go and be glad he’d turned her down? Looking over his injuries and noting his struggle just to remain sitting up, she thought, ‘He really does need me.’ Buffy surprised herself by realizing that she wanted to help him this way.

Spike flicked his good hand in negation. Angry with her for tempting him, he almost lashed out, ‘Do you know what you’re asking for, you stupid bint?’ He bit his tongue and stopped himself just in time. No sense in insulting her even before he was forgiven for his last blunder. Instead he just ground out, “NO! I won’t do it! Leave off, Slayer,” and lapsed into another coughing fit.

Buffy humphed and sat down next to him. She scrutinized him for a few moments, trying to decide the best strategy to wear him down. He’d coughed up blood that time, and looked like he was hanging onto consciousness by sheer determination. ‘Angel wasn’t so reluctant when he needed my blood,’ she thought morosely. What that said about the differences between them, she didn’t want to examine.

Considering him, she decided to go the sensuous tease route. He’d reacted strongly to that when chained in Giles’ tub. Pulling the neckline of her blouse away from her throat and tilting her head to give him good access, she ran her middle finger down the line of her carotid artery. “Don’t I smell good to you? Don’t you want me?” she asked sulkily, lower lip thrust out, gazing at him from under heavy eyelids.

Spike almost roared with frustration. His eyes flashed yellow as his look roamed greedily over her face, snagging on her pouting lips, then hesitating at her throat before dragging his gaze away and flinging himself down facing the other direction. Growling as much in pain as aggravation, he barked, “You know better than that, you know I want you! And you know how dangerous it is to offer yourself to a vampire. Grow up, little girl!”

Embarrassed by that accusation, Buffy flushed hotly and lost her temper. She grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him roughly onto his back. Ignoring his pained moan and muttered “Bloody hell, Slayer,” she glared into his eyes and snapped, “Conceited, much? I didn’t offer myself, just some of my blood so you could heal!”

“Same thing,” he snarled right back at her, eyes cold and frozen, his expressionless ‘William the Bloody’ face very much in evidence. Buffy recognized that look. He wore it when he was at his angriest and most determined, when he was deadliest.

Strangely enough, Buffy knew that he wouldn’t kill her. He was angry with her because she was putting herself in danger. He was actually trying to protect her. He DID love her! That insight broke through her consciousness in an overwhelming wave. She suddenly knew that his feelings were real. How that could be, when the Council of Watchers was so sure that without souls, demons couldn’t have true emotions, she didn’t understand. She could use it though; it gave her the upper hand.

“Listen up, Spike. Do it for Dawn. I need you strong and whole to protect her from Glory.” Softening as he threw her a tormented look, she added, “Please. I know you can do it without hurting me. You have more control over your demon than any vampire I’ve ever met.” Even as she said it, she realized it was true. If ever there was a Master Vampire, it was William the Bloody, for he was master of his demon.

Spike sighed and covered his eyes with his good arm. He had his answer. She wanted to use him. Of course she did; he should have known. But she’d found his Achilles heel. For love of the Slayer and her sis, to protect the little bit he couldn’t deny them. He lay there motionless as his attitudes rearranged themselves. He could work with being useful; it meant that she trusted him. Eventually, he could build trust into something more; and yes, he could do the deed without hurting her, he admitted to himself. He was no Angel with Jack Squat for self-control. His rejection of drinking her healing blood slowly drained from him, and acceptance took its place. Buffy was beginning to fear that he had passed out again when he finally murmured, “O.K.”

Calm and impassive on the outside, inside Spike was now exulting. He’d realized the significance of her blood offering. He was going to have his third slayer! Not in the sense of killing her, for this one he would HAVE. ‘She’s going to be Mine!’ his demon roared. He knew it, had subconsciously known it from the moment she offered herself. Part of him had tried to be noble and say no; that part of him still wanted to shield her from himself. But what was a poor wounded vamp to do when she insisted?

Before the night was over, she’d be his! His predator instincts had kicked in, sensing the “kill”. Soon she’d be his in every sense of the word.

‘The Hellgod of Skank did me a good turn when she nearly offed me.’ A small evil smirk broke through at the thought of Glory’s rage at helping him. ‘She let me prove to Buffy that I love her, and that poked a hole in the girl’s armor that not even the bot could plug!’ It was the beginning of the end for the Slayer’s resistance to him, and the end was coming rapidly.

Straight-faced again, Spike sat up slowly, cradling his arm and asked, “Help me straighten a few bones out so they’ll heal properly?” Buffy picked up a bottle of Jack Daniels from the nearby ledge and handed it to him. He took a few swallows; then set it down next to him.

Taking his arm, one hand above the angulation and one below it, Buffy stabilized with the upper hand and pulled from the other end, letting the bone ends settle into their proper place as she relaxed the tension. Spike groaned and lay shaking as she splinted the fracture with stakes and strips torn from the Levis lying at the foot of the coffin.

Handing the bottle over again, this time she had him chug the entire thing. “To loosen you up,” she explained and asked if he knew the name of the arm bone that was broken.

“Humerus,” He panted shortly.

“I am so not being humorous,” she protested, “How could you say such a thing? I don’t think your broken arm is funny at all!”

“You are such a blonde,” he snorted, and she took advantage of his distraction to quickly pull and rotate his shoulder. He roared in agony as it popped back into the socket. Next she wrapped the arm close against his body to keep the shoulder in place while he healed.

Once Spike had caught his breath he accused, “You did that on purpose! Where’d you learn to get me all loose and sidetracked, and then do that pull ‘n twist thing?”

“Watchers do have some use,” Buffy replied archly. “First aid was part of my training with Giles.”

“Huh. I’d say setting bones and snapping dislocated joints into place was a bit more than first aid,” Spike muttered; then glancing at her smug look, he smiled. The girl wasn’t stupid. “Let’s do the rest of this downstairs, yeah? That way we won’t be totally exposed if some git should barge in in the middle of it.”

“Makes sense,’ Buffy answered, feeling a twinge of guilt. They all had a bad habit of just walking into Spike’s home; no one bothered with knocking. “O.K., up you go,” she said as she helped him stand.

His shirt fell to the ground and Buffy’s eyes strayed momentarily below his waist. She blushed hotly and dithered in confusion. ‘Ack, you’d think I’d never seen a naked man before. Well O.K.,’ she qualified to herself, ‘so I’ve never seen such a prime specimen.’ Quickly glancing away, she pretended not to notice his burgeoning erection.

As he watched her, the increased heat coming off her body sent his demon into an uproar. ‘Hurry, hurry, hurry, want you, take you, have you, mine, Mine, MINE,’ it chanted, and his body reacted accordingly. He clamped a firm hand over his libido and his mouth. His status with her was too shaky. Now was not the time to rush, or to tease her with suggestive remarks.

Buffy awkwardly got him down the ladder. Once there, she took in the king size bed with red satin sheets and glanced at him sardonically. “More comfortable down here than upstairs as well, eh?”

For once he didn’t feel up to verbal sparring. The move to the lower level had been grueling. After a few deep breaths with teeth clenched and eyes closed, he lay down carefully, groaning as broken bones were jarred yet again. Buffy flipped the sheet over him more to preserve her own sense of modesty than his. She cleared her throat and glanced around the chamber, avoiding his gaze.

He pushed himself up against the headboard and watched her fondly, caught between amusement and arousal over her response to his nudity. As he sat up, the sheet pooled around his hips, and Buffy’s eyes were drawn to his sculptured chest and abdomen before she turned away again.

Spike patted the bed beside him. “Come sit down, green eyes, I need to explain a few things to you. You might change your mind about healing me afterwards.”

She sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at him warily, rubbing her arms in an attempt to get warm in the chilly room.

He picked up the satin comforter from the end of the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders, then took her hand and turned it palm side up, running his finger lightly along the radial artery. She shivered at the cool touch. Oh crap. He was doing it again, getting her all hot and bothered. She started to pull away, but he resisted, murmuring “Slayer...” and she reluctantly left her hand in his. His stroking finger stilled and rested on her pulse point. “When I take your blood, if I do it from here at your wrist it could cause you pain, which would make the chip fire. In order to get past the chip I need to make it good for you. I can do that better from your neck,” his eyes bored sensually into her, tongue peeking out to touch his upper lip.

Buffy frowned and asked suspiciously, “How do you know the chip won’t fire if it’s ‘good’ for me?” Had he found a way around the chip and was killing people anyway? Righteous indignation started swelling in her.

‘Oops, didn’t expect her to catch that. Thought she’d get hung up on the “need to make it good” part. No, the girl isn’t stupid at all. She’ll be a worthy mate.’ Spike smirked but the pain in his ribs discouraged him from laughing with delight as he wanted to. “Such an ambivalent little puss,” he crooned, “one minute you trust me, and the next you don’t.”

Eyes snapping, she jumped up, now feeling deadly herself and repeated slowly, “How. Do. You. Know?”

Spike recognized the lethal intent in her face, and his gaze became rapt, his entire being focused on the Slayer within her. Loving that fierce element of her, feeling no fear of it, his tiny answering smile was sensuous, dangerous. Eyes dropped to half mast, he studied her for a few moments; then he shrugged, and turning back to a lighter mood, answered candidly.

“Back when they first chipped me I sussed it out. Long as I don’t take too much, I can ‘nip ‘n sip’ while playing.” He couldn’t resist waggling an eyebrow and curling his tongue at her provocatively just to watch her bristle, when he said ‘nip ‘n sip’. Then he continued with, “The little darlings have an annoying tendency to become clingy, though, and as I’ve been focused on you for quite some time, I brown bag it now days.”

“Arghh!” Buffy yelled, stalking in a circle and once again pulling at her hair. “You infuriate me on purpose, don’t you?!”

This time Spike couldn’t hold his laughter in, “I can’t help it, you ruffle up so charmingly,” he chuckled before breaking off in a pained groan and clutching at his sides.

“So you’ve been with other women besides Harmony since coming back.” No matter that she’d claimed to hate him; she didn’t like it that he was playing around with other women, even for their blood--especially for their blood. Buffy marched back to the bed and glared at him, arms stiff at her sides and fists clenched. Jealousy and disgust pounded illogically together at the door of her heart.

Spike smiled tenderly at her, reaching up to pull her back down to him, then lightly touched a golden curl lying against her breast. “Not for a long time, not since falling for you.” Funny how he didn’t want to torment her for her jealousy, instead he wanted to comfort her. “I’m sorry I teased you so rudely, my love.”

Buffy wearily rubbed her aching temples, unable to find the will to tell him, yet again, not to call her ‘his love.’ Here was just another evidence that Spike was deadly, chip or no. They’d been fools to underestimate him all this time. ‘God, how did I get so “lucky” that he fell in love with me? That had pulled his fangs far more effectively than the chip.’

“So, pet. Want to call this off? I’ll heal with the bagged stuff.” Bowing to his inner Victorian gentleman, he gave her one last chance to avoid a blood letting. “You’ve done enough just setting my bones. You should get on home to the niblet.”

Buffy glanced up and her breath hitched as she became caught in his burning blue eyes. “But you’ll heal faster and stronger with Slayer blood,” she murmured, staring back at him.

He smiled slightly and answered vaguely, “There’s nothing like Slayer Blood.” He refrained from telling her that beyond being the most powerful restorative there was for a vampire, it also was the most potent aphrodisiac.

Buffy shivered under the sensuality of his gaze, and thought back to his earlier words. ‘’ll be “good”.’ Flashes of their engagement ran through her mind; this time she knew that his body would be on her as well as his hands and lips. ‘I can use some “good” in my life. Things were pretty tepid with Riley for a long time. Oh! And good excuse, it’s for a worthy cause. I need him strong--now. The poor thing looks ready to dust. He needs blood fast--slayer blood.’ Buffy smiled to herself, conscience salved. “O.K. Let’s heal you.”

Chapter 3 - Yours by Joyful Dayz
Author's Notes:
Disclaimer: Spike, Buffy and company aren’t mine. I just like to play with other people’s toys. I promise to return them happier than they were when I borrowed them. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter 3 – Yours

Spike drew Buffy down onto the bed beside him. Taking in her tense expression, he gave her a crooked half smile, rolled her onto her stomach and resigned himself to moving very slowly. “Let’s get you loosened up some first, shall we?” he said as he began softly stroking her neck and shoulders with his good hand. Gradually he deepened the caresses into massaging.

It felt good, too good. Buffy had never received such a talented massage two handed, let alone one. She was nervous though, guilt wafting faintly through her mind for allowing a vampire to give her even such harmless comfort. When she shifted restlessly and protested, “You’re too weak to be giving me a rubdown, and that isn’t what we’re here for anyway...” he began whispering sweet nothings as he applied himself, seeking out knots of tense muscle and soothing them. “Not to worry, love…I’m fine...It’s O.K...” Almost against her will her neck and shoulders loosened and relaxed.

Silently Spike continued, ‘Oh yeah, sweetling, I’m more than fine...’ Moving to her back and arms, he delighted in her well defined musculature and the silky warm skin covering it. “Everything will be just fine...” he assured her, then finished the conversation in his head. ‘Everything will be glorious, my warrior woman...effulgent.’ The ache of Spike’s injuries faded from his awareness. It felt heavenly to finally be touching Buffy as he’d wanted to for so long. Yearning to use both hands, his bad arm reached out unconsciously and as he put weight on it, a stab of pain shot through him. Pulling back he chanted silently, ‘Soon, soon.’ Soon he’d be able to pull the splint off and care for her properly. He continued down, nudging the skirt out of the way to massage and loosen tenseness from her legs and finally her feet.

As he felt Buffy relaxing, Spike began feathering kisses along the path of his hand, nuzzling delicately around clothing to find succulent bits of flesh. He touched the tip of his tongue to the small of her back, “Tender and fragrant as rose petals...”

She shivered and gasped, shocked by the acute delight. Feeling uncomfortable with her response to his endearments and kisses, imagining her friends’ horror at the pleasure she found in his touch, she tried to resist one last time. “Spike...”

“Yes, baby...” He murmured as he continued gently massaging her muscles, never pausing in his whispering kisses, softly nibbling and licking and stroking as he moved downward.

Buffy gave a trembling sigh, and under the glory of his touch and adoration, forgot her reservations. Peace flowed through her as she succumbed. This was her Spike, her secret Spike, who had loved her so during Willow’s spell. Her Spike that she had dreamed of night after night, only to awaken alone each morning clutching a pillow; mortified at the tears that trailed silently down her cheeks. Unwillingly she had mourned his loss over and over again. Finally, she had him back.

He savored the sweetness behind her knees, and the bounding of the pulses there. Trailing down her chiseled calves, the throb produced by her heartbeat at the top of each foot and the inside of each ankle drew him, and he placed light kisses on each. Repeatedly running his thumb firmly over the arches and then the balls of her feet, he sucked each toe into his mouth.

Feeling loose and languid, Buffy murmured a lazy, “Mmmm,” and Spike turned her onto her back to continue his ministrations. While massaging her scalp and running his fingers through the length of her hair, he inhaled its vanilla scent and murmured, “Luscious little Goldilocks.” He traced across her face with his lips, along her jaw and down her throat, “You’re intoxicating...” Caressing her from shoulders to fingertips, then back up again, he lingered at her wrists, inner elbows, and upper inner arms; leaving a light kiss at each spot, touching his tongue to each pulse point and sucking gently before moving on.

Slowly his cool fingers wandered to her collarbones and upper chest, petting and sculpting as they went. From there his hand roamed down to her stomach, traveling in circles, slowly lifting the lower edge of her blouse. “So very lovely...” One of his legs bent and moved over her, tracing up and down her thigh, whispering, always whispering. “So warm and velvety...”

A warm buzz moved throughout Buffy’s body. She felt a melting sensation start in her loins and travel outward in waves. Her arms came up around his neck as his lips revisited her throat, licking, suckling, familiarizing her with the feel of having him there. The pain of Angel’s bite entered her mind and she stiffened momentarily; but Spike continued as if he hadn’t noticed, his nipping kisses moving down to the hollow below her collar bone without pause, and onto her upper chest. Soon she forgot everything but those glorious, talented lips and hands.

Spike swept her blouse up above her breasts and gazed in delight at her delicate beauty. Amazed again at really being here, he was momentarily overcome by love for her. Then he caught a warm globe in his palm, and gently molded it. Eventually he began lightly twisting and pulling the nipple as his lips covered her other one. “Ahh Slayer, so very beautiful...”

Buffy clasped his head closer as he suckled. She gasped again, arched helplessly. Her head thrown back, eyes closed, she gave herself up to the sensations, let them flood and cascade over her, exhaling sharply as tremors flowed through her.

Spike switched breasts, feasting on the first, cupping the other, marveling at their velvet smoothness tipped by firmly budded nipples. He almost lost sight of the reason he was doing this, immersed in the wonder of making love to Buffy.

The scent of her rising passion enthralled him, and he was on the way down to sample it when she began tossing her head back and forth restlessly. Knowing what she needed, he trailed back up to press his lips to hers for the first time since the witch’s spell. In small nipping kisses, he teased her, each time changing the angle and deepening the pressure. His tongue came out to trace the outline of hers, then dipped in to brush over her teeth. As they obediently parted, it slipped past to sample her essence. He breathed into her mouth, “You’re the finest wine...”

Ardor broke through devotion and their kisses became passionate, lips straining frantically against each other. His tongue rocked into her mouth, mimicking another joining. Hers met his eagerly and as they wrestled, vying for dominance, Spike’s hand wandered below her waist. He fondled her stomach and thighs, testing the flat muscles there, her skirt inching up with each sweep of his hand. Finally he stroked the juncture of her pelvis and hip, palpating the femoral pulse that pounded there, then traced teasingly along the outer edges of her knickers.

When Buffy reared up impatiently, his questing fingers relented and shifted over to sooth her through the silky fabric. Then he slipped one long blunt finger underneath the elastic at her inner leg and stroked her directly. He traced, then blatantly explored the slick, swollen folds, learning her contours, lingering to massage the straining bud he found there. Moving on to outline the trembling opening, he probed inside to slide along her inner walls; pulled out, swirled back along the bud, then stroked back in, and again and again...

Buffy’s legs fell apart and her hips strained up to meet his hand. He backed out to circle her entrance, then pressed in with two fingers, pulled out then pushed forward with three. She tensed against the tightness, but the penetration continued, slowly, relentlessly, until his fingers were deeply buried in her sheath.

She felt heavy and full, increasingly frantic. Her breath came in ragged, broken gasps as she sighed and moaned his name. A rosy flush spread from her breast upwards. That was the sign he was looking for. Shifting on top of her, he gave her the pressure she needed below with rolls and thrusts of his hips, sliding his rigid length against her. Hand returning to care for her breasts, his lips left hers to travel back down her jaw line to her throat, and his incisors lengthened.

Buffy faintly felt a sharp prick, but barely noticed it. Overshadowing it was a delightful kneading and tugging at her bosom; and pressure and driving strokes along her aching core. She felt a drawing sensation in her neck, and a streak of fire shot from there downwards. As Spike drank and healed, Buffy shook and moaned, the feelings inside her rising higher and tighter as she rocked her hips in time with his.

‘Slayer blood!’ He silently cried in ecstasy. The delicious essence invigorated and revitalized Spike’s being. Health and power flowed through him. He could feel bones knitting and punctured lungs mending. Cuts closed and healed, and bruises faded and disappeared.

Buffy lifted her hands to thread through his hair, releasing it into unruly curls. ‘Finally, he’s mine to tousle and muss as I want.’ Tracing his sharp cheekbone as he worked at her throat, she moved down to map the hard rounding musculature of his unbound shoulder and arm. Her hands gloried in the straining V of his sculptured back, smoothing the cool velvet skin, delighting in the warmth that seeped into it as she stroked him. She thoroughly tested each muscle, pressing and kneading as she spiraled higher and higher. She thought in wonder, ‘I’ve never felt anything like him, so perfect, so gorgeous,’ and dimly, in the back of her mind, she questioned how anything so beautiful could be evil. Finally her hands moved down to cup his flexing buttocks, fingers curving inward to sculpt and kneed his contours.

Buffy’s hands on him sent all thoughts of healing from Spike’s mind. Previously, he had imagined that his desire for her reached the heights of passion; but with her life blood flowing down his throat, Spike felt a fervor and yearning that he’d never before imagined; his first slayer certainly hadn’t affected him anywhere near to it, not even Dru ever had. He trembled and gasped with each stroke of her hand, but the feel of her molding his arse sent Spike over the edge. He had to be inside her.

The realization flashed through him that the pain was gone. Never leaving her neck, Spike slowed to taking tiny sips interspersed with a sensuous laving of his tongue. He frantically ripped the splint and strapping from his body and tossed it aside. Without another thought, his nails slashed through her clothing so precisely that he didn’t leave a mark on her fair skin. Tearing it off, he settled into the valley between her thighs with a sigh of relief.

Buffy wrapped her legs around Spike’s waist and arched up to meet him as with a shout of rapture, he plunged into her. She cried out at the same time, feeling tight, almost too full; at first her walls resisted, then they accommodated his girth, and she was suddenly whirling in heat and flames. His slow deep thrusts below and the pulling sensation above turned the heavy pooling inside her into a tense shivering. Her entire body clenched tight, broke into violent spasms, and she pulled him with her into climax.

On thrusting inside her, waves of exultation had broken over Spike and he felt that he might very well dust from the joy of it. ‘Ah, the feel of you...under me...surrounding me...the scent...’ She was his now! Whether she admitted it or not, she was his. ‘Mine!...mine!...mine!,’ chanted his demon as he pumped in and out. Buffy’s internal muscles tightened around him, rhythmically squeezing and milking him until he nearly howled with mingled pleasure and pain. ‘Slayer muscles! The legends are true,’ ran through his head, as bucking and groaning incoherently, he erupted into her.

Spike’s convulsions started Buffy’s all over again. Lost in a frenzy of sensation, she cried out and clamped down on his neck with her teeth. Blood flowed into her mouth, and she swallowed instinctively.

With that, Spike lost control, another paroxysm shuddered through him and he roared, “MINE!”

From deep within her, the reciprocal “Yours” came. Then, that same part of her refused to play a submissive role in any relationship, and she cried, “MINE!”

Stunned, Spike could only look at her with head tilted in wonder and repeat, “Yours.”

Chapter 4 - Soul Mate by Joyful Dayz
Author's Notes:
Spike, Buffy and company aren’t mine. I just like to play with other people’s toys. I promise to return them happier than they were when I borrowed them. No copyright infringement is intended.
I’m sorry for the delay in updating. I’ve been ill this past month.
Chapter 4 - Soul Mate

With Spike’s “Yours,” a shock wave rolled through them. Suddenly their world was compressed into tiny points, then exploded back out to normal size and shape, but denser somehow, as if they had greater mass. Throughout it all, images flashed through their minds.

Realization of what had just happened swept over Spike and he cried out in exhilaration, “My God! We mated, we’re soul mates!” He gave her a quick hard buss and hug before jumping up from the bed and grabbing her. He flung her around in a circle a couple of times before planting the astonished slayer back into the middle of the bed. Then he started picking up everything in site, whooping and laughing as he went, bouncing manically around the room. He grabbed a huge boulder in the corner, lifted it like it was a ball of Styrofoam, and threw it against a far wall. It smashed into gravel and he laughed, “It was too big, couldn’t get it out of the door before. Now that problem’s fixed!” Next he lifted the bed by one leg, Buffy still in it, and raised and lowered it a few times like a dumb bell.

“What the hell?” she cried. Buffy scrambled down and as soon as he returned the bed to the ground, grabbed Spike and pushed him up against a wall, intending to hold him there long enough to quiet him down and get some sense from him. She meant to demand why he was suddenly so strong; why she could see so much better in the dim room all of a sudden; why she had just started hearing water dripping in the distance; why she was catching a delectable whiff of “Spike” that she’d only smelt before when right up against him. Instead he crashed through the wall and into the next chamber.

She gaped at him as he chuckled again, exclaiming, “New door! Good job, Pet. Now we have an extra room.”

Buffy stared down at her hands, then back up at him in confusion, and could only repeat, “What the hell?”

Spike looked at Buffy’s bewildered face and his excitement dimmed. He said flatly, “You have no idea what’s going on, do you?”

“No. Why did you crash through the wall? All I did was push you up against it! And not only are you suddenly well and whole again, why is your strength super sized? ”

“Do those watchers teach you slayers nothing, nowadays?” he demanded in exasperation.

Picking up her blouse and noting its shredded condition, she dropped it and demanded shakily, “Forget the Watchers. You tell me. Now. And find me something to wear.” She felt like her world was going to fly apart. Buffy wrapped her arms around her body as if to hold herself together. Something was very different, something basic and vital had changed. She shivered with budding alarm.

“Here,” Spike said. “These shouldn’t be too huge on you. They shrank in a hot wash.” He handed her a pair of black jeans and a black T-shirt. She put them on and was relieved to see that they fit fairly well. The jeans clung to her hips as if meant to be there, and by rolling the bottoms up a couple of times, the length was fine. She knotted the T-shirt under her breasts to make it feel not quite so dowdy, and examined herself in the mirror above his antique armoire. Seeing a silver handled brush there, she picked it up and smoothed the wild tangles from her hair.

In the meantime, Spike had dressed in black jeans and T-shirt as well. Settling back on the bed, he watched as she pulled the brush through her long hair. The feminine movements triggered a heavy pooling in his lower body. Knowing that now was not the time to have her heels over head again, he smirked and taunted her, hoping to irritate her enough to stop her from tempting him. “Finished with your haute couture yet, my little clothes horse, and ready for Vampire Relations 101?”

Buffy studiously ignored his ribbing about fussing over her outfit. She felt the need to put off his explanation for a few more seconds, and wondered if she really wanted to hear what he had to say after all. “Why do you have a mirror down here, when you don’t have a reflection?” she hedged.

Spike studied her in the looking glass, considering her evasion, and wondered whether or not to tell her that he’d gotten the mirror when his first human darling had complained about the lack of one. Nope, better not. Sidetracked, Spike considered his preferred word, darling, to the more common term of cow, that referred to a living human used for blood. Cow had such an uncomplimentary connotation, and his little darlings had after all been just that. Darling. He shifted his attention back to the slayer, his magnificent new darling, and was interested to remember that even back when he’d first hung the mirror, he’d had a vision of Buffy in the back of his mind; of lying on the bed and watching as she brushed her beautiful locks. Today, that vision had come true. Finally he gave a seemingly careless shrug and said simply, “Women like to primp. I like to watch.”

She frowned at herself in the mirror and turned towards him. “You got it for me, then? What made you think I’d ever be here to use it?”

“You’re here now, aren’t you?” He didn’t disabuse her of the notion that it was there for her. It probably always had been.

That got her back up. He was so arrogant! He’d been confident enough of her eventually being down here and needing a mirror, that he’d gotten her one. Why did he have to be so knowing? It was infuriating. “Pretty ballsy of you,” she said coldly.

He stared at her indulgently, a soft look stealing into his icy blue eyes. She was going to be difficult. He smiled inwardly, she wouldn’t be his slayer if she wasn’t complex and thorny. “Life is what it is.”

“And you always get what you want out of life, don’t you?” She remembered with a chill that Angel had told them when Spike first came to town that he never gave up, he might end up killing everything in his path to do it, but he always got what he wanted in the end.

“I do my best.”

“And you wanted me. So now you’ve taken me, haven’t you?”

“You have things turned around there, Slayer. I may have claimed you, but YOU took me.” She might be the love of his life, but he wasn’t going to put up with her blaming him for what had happened. Her days of self-delusion were over.

Buffy got snagged on the claiming part. She vaguely remembered Giles warning her once about claims during early vampire lore lessons. She hadn’t paid enough attention, as usual. “You claimed me? What an idiotic thing to do! Claim a slayer?! What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking at all! Don’t be stupid, Buffy! I warned you beforehand how dangerous it is to give yourself to a vampire. You bit and drank me! And not only did you do it while I was drinking you but while we were shagging! If you did that to ANY other vampire, and if your well being wasn’t more important to me than my own is, you’d not only be dead right now, you’d be preparing to rise again!”

They glared at each other. Buffy wasn’t about to admit that he was right, though she knew he was. Even with Angel, she had a feeling that could have happened.

Clenching his jaw in an effort to keep his temper, Spike continued angrily, “But even as a claim, that’s all it was. Claims can be broken. Hell, as my grandsire, even Angel could have broken it. But you accepted the claim, you said, “Yours”, making it immune to outside interference. And then you compounded it by making it a double claim. You claimed me back!”

Buffy dropped her eyes, bottom lip protruding stubbornly. Yes, she had. Why had she done that? All she knew was that she had wanted it, wanted him desperately, wanted to keep him, and wanted to be on an equal footing with him. From deep within her had come the counter claim. It had felt right. Actually, it still did. That didn’t mean she could accept what she’d done. There were too many outside forces against it...and he was a soulless vampire.

“Look at me, Buffy. You have to understand, a double claim is a marriage. Whether you knew it consciously or not, your Slayer did, or you wouldn’t have known the right words to repeat. You married me. To top that off, if Soul Mates claim each other while making love, and while drinking from each other, they mate. That’s the pressure wave that swamped us. There’s no divorce from a mating, love, no turning back; it’s forever.”

Buffy looked at him bleakly, her life flashing before her eyes. “Nothing lasts forever, Spike. Everything falls apart eventually. Sooner or later, everyone leaves.”

Spike’s heart broke for her, and he pulled her into his arms. She stood rigidly, but let him hold her. “I’ll dust before I leave you.” When she would have protested, he put a finger to her lips and said, “Please, Slayer, for once just shut up and listen. During a mating, souls mingle. Part of you lives inside of me now, and part of me lives inside of you.” She stirred, trying to interrupt, “Shh, I know, you think I don’t have a soul. You’re wrong about that. A vampire demon is a soul, it’s just different than a human soul. But more about that later.

“For now you need to know that with the mingling of our souls, we gain each other’s characteristics. We were both strong beforehand, so when we got each other’s strength, it doubled what we had before. Same thing goes for our speed, reflexes and healing. I can see, smell and hear better than a human; so now you can too, yeah?” He raised an eyebrow and peered at her shrewdly. She nodded back mutely. “The sun’ll be no problem for me now; and holy water’s just water, like it is for you; I won’t dust with a stake to the heart; stuff like that. Priorities shift, things that are important to you now matter to me. What’s important to me matters to you.”

Buffy had stiffened further at his claim that part of his ‘demon soul’ was now inside of her. The idea of healing super fast, and being even stronger and faster than before was intriguing, but she rejected having his priorities. “Are you saying that I’m evil now? That I want to go around killing and eating people, destroying the world? You’re crazy! I so do not!”

Spike laughed. “When have I ever wanted to destroy the world? You know I like it the way it is. Evil for evil’s sake has never been a big deal to me. Angelus always called me a piss poor excuse for a vampire. Most of my famous reign of terror was just to placate him and Drusilla.” Taking her by the shoulders, he looked into her eyes. “Killing people has always just been about eating.” Noting her disbelieving look, Spike conceded, “OK, fine. Sometimes I kicked it up out of boredom, but it takes a whole mob of people to make it really fun. What I like is action, excitement, violence.

“Of course you already liked that stuff too. Come on, admit it,” he coaxed when she shook her head emphatically. “You just prettied it up in the guise of ‘world save-age’, to coin a phrase from the Niblet. Now you’ll be able to accept that part of yourself. As for me,” He snorted and flashed her a snarky grin, “I already feel the need to channel all that lovely violence into taking out bad guys about wussy,” he chuckled in astonishment at himself and placed his right hand dramatically over his heart, “saving the world by your side! From a vampire’s point of view, you’ve ruined me, you know.”

Without thinking of anything but wiping that wise ass grin off his face for laughing at saving the world, she popped him on the nose, sending him flying.

He jumped up in full vamp face, eyes burning gold with a fanged grin, and bashed her back in the face. She fell against the area near where she’d sent Spike through the wall earlier, breaking the opening into an arch size hole, and landing against the far wall in the adjacent chamber. She stood up and stared at him in astonishment and fear. Spike was waiting for her on the other side of the arch, blood thirsty smirk in place, bouncing on the balls of his feet, and beckoning to her with his hands. There was no sign that he was in any pain from hitting her.

‘Apparently since I have no chip, neither does he now.’ He hadn’t even realized it, was just jonesing for a good fight. ‘What have I done?’ Buffy cried silently, panicking. ‘The chip isn’t working...It’s gone! I’ve done it again! This is “Buffy screws the soul out of her man, Version 2!” I can’t do it; I just can’t kill the man I love again! Oh no...Oh My God, No...I love him!’ Buffy shook and screamed in denial and grief, then dropped to her knees sobbing wildly. She wrapped her arms around herself and rocked back and forth as she wept...

...Spike was scared to death. He couldn’t get her calmed down, she kept sobbing and muttering, “I can’t do it again, I just can’t.” He rocked her in his arms, crooning to her, singing old lullabies from his human days, whispering that everything would be all right... she needn’t worry...she wouldn’t have to do it again, he’d take care of everything...” Buffy laughed hysterically at that before lapsing back into tears. Finally, exhausted, she fell asleep in his arms, and he spent the next few hours holding her and worrying about what could have happened.

As time passed and she didn’t wake up, Spike admitted to himself that she looked more unconscious than asleep, and he finally decided that he needed to take her to her Watcher. Perhaps it was a slayer thing, and Giles could figure out what was wrong. He carried her through the late afternoon sunshine, barely registering the beauty of the slanting light through the trees. During his life, William had written odes to “The Golden Time of Day”. He was seeing it for the first time in well over a century, and he couldn’t admire it. Something was wrong with his mate. He had to make it right.

Chapter 5 - If You Loved Her by Joyful Dayz
Author's Notes:
Finally, I'm updating...I've been offline for months.
Chapter 5 – If You Loved Her

The sight of Spike, strong, healthy, and cradling an unconscious Buffy in his arms when he had been near dust earlier in the day sent a chill of recognition through Giles. It was Angel all over again. “What have you done to her!” he cried, stepping forward to take her from Spike.

Spike backed out of reach into the sunshine and said, “I haven’t hurt her, Rupert. Listen to me and help me figure out what’s wrong with her.”

Numbly Giles stood aside and let the vampire carry her across the threshold. Spike couldn’t make himself release her, and sat down in the armchair holding her. Memories of the witch’s love spell swamped him. For one short hour, he’d been a happy fool. He desperately wished that Buffy was awake in his arms now, wriggling her luscious tush around on his danglies, driving him crazy with desire, loving him.

“Put her on the couch so I can examine her...” Giles started; then catching sight of the fresh bite on her neck, his face flattened into the deadly visage of the Ripper, “You said you didn’t hurt her!” Whipping a stake from his belt, he charged at Spike with it raised high.

In a flash, Spike had Buffy draped across the chair so she wouldn’t be hurt in the scuffle and turned back to the Watcher. With lightening speed he knocked the stake from Giles’ hand and grabbed him by the neck. Raising the taller man one handed into the air above his head, Spike shook him as if he weighed no more than a rag doll. “Chill out!” he snapped. “Don’t you be going off half-cocked now!”

Gagging and gasping for breath, Giles nodded and scrabbled at Spike’s hand, astonished by the vampire’s great strength and the lack of chip response.

Spike set him down warily and stepped back. “Listening now, are you?” He maintained a defensive stance just in case the older man lost it again. He was fast, strong and wiley for a human. It would be stupid to dismiss the watcher too lightly. If he started a rumpus and Buffy was hurt, Spike would have to kill him, and then Buffy’d never forgive him.

The Watcher nodded mutely. He wondered wildly how he could get across the room to his cross bow. His mind spun in circles. ‘What happened to the chip? Why did he bring her here after draining her? Oh, Buffy, Buffy, I’m so very sorry...Did he turn you? I must be next...Why didn’t we stake him earlier today instead of leaving him at his crypt? Why did I underestimate him so badly all this time? How could I have been so stupid?’ And the most incomprehensible of all, ‘How could he have come here during the day?’

That last question turned the Watcher’s brain back on. He thought of the cloudless sky overhead. ‘How was he able to bring her here through the sunlight? How did he get so strong and fast?’ And back again to the first question, ‘Why isn’t the chip working?’ Finally noticing the fresh human bite on the vampire’s neck, the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

Spike watched the comprehension come over the watcher’s face and asked mildly, “Sussed it out, have you?”

“What have you done, Vampire!” Giles cried in dismay. Not drained, but mated; almost as bad and even more disturbing. His entire body clenched tight as he strained not to attack again. It would be suicide. “How could this happen?”

“I had protected Dawn earlier, didn’t tell the hell bitch what she wanted to know. Slayer offered to heal me,” Spike answered dourly. He supposed the Watcher had a right to that much of the reason. He eyed the other man closely, watching him tremble with fury.

“If you loved her like you claim you do, you would have refused,” Giles grated out at him through clenched teeth. Vampires couldn’t be expected to have any self control, but this one said he loved the Slayer, so should hold himself to a higher standard. Spike surprised him with his answer.

“I did refuse. She insisted. Said she needed me strong to help her protect Dawn. Slayer’s my strength and my weakness, you know. When she really wants something, I can’t turn her down.” Spike stared moodily into the other’s angry eyes. “Just gave you a dangerous advantage over me there, Watcher, were you my enemy. Thing is, you can’t be my enemy now, without being hers as well. See to it that you’re our friend.”

Giles measured the vampire with a long hard look. He unwillingly recognized the futility of not accepting the situation, at least provisionally. The only other option was to kill them both, and unless Buffy had changed drastically, that was unthinkable. Even if that became a necessity, he wasn’t prepared. He’d never be able to overwhelm Spike and his new strength without some solid planning. Eventually sighing and rubbing his aching head, the watcher nodded brusquely.

Spike relaxed slightly and continued, “Believe it or not, I didn’t mean it to happen. As I healed, one thing led to another and before I knew it we were mated.” As he saw the Watcher’s unbelieving stare, he added defensively, “It’s not like it’s something you can plan beforehand, Rupert. Get down on bended knee and ask, ‘Will you mate with me?’ Only happens between soul mates, and it’s automatic.” Spike wouldn’t be telling the Watcher that Buffy had initiated the whole thing by biting him; it wasn’t any of his business.

“Do you realize that you’ve signed her death warrant with your ‘one thing lead to another?’ Wet teams will be after her for the rest of her life!” Wisely, Giles didn’t erupt into violence this time, but other ways of taking the vampire out ran through his mind as he raged at what this vampire had cost his Slayer.

“Then they’ll never know, will they, Watcher? There’s no reason for them to find out. Ever.” Spike stared into the other’s eyes with deadly intent. “No one will hurt her. No one. Got it?”

Giles snorted, amused in spite of himself. “We’re shooting the same daggers back and forth at each other. The Council certainly won’t hear about it from me, but they have spies everywhere. They’ll find out someday. The fact remains that you’ve put her life in danger by doing this.”

“Her life’s always been in danger. I’ve made her stronger, faster, a better warrior.” Spike glared angrily at the other man. He’d never knowingly put her in peril, he’d protect her with his very existence. Privately it grieved him that now, because of him, not only demons, but the Council of Wankers itself would be after her.

“So the two of you are enhanced?” Giles asked shortly, already knowing the answer, but needing to make it official.

The grim faced blonde answered with a scornful look and a snort. “Obviously. That’s the hallmark of a mating, separates it from a double claim. Enhancement’s the result of the mingling of souls.”

Giles continued to glare at him. ‘The mingling of souls...Dear Lord.’ Aloud he stuck to the former topic, “Nevertheless, you have endangered her. Every mated pair in recorded history has been terminated. Council policy mandates it. They’ll declare her subverted. Uncontrollable. Dangerous. Contaminated. Useless to them.” He emphasized each point individually to make sure the vampire understood the severity of what he had done to Buffy, and finished with what he expected would matter more than any other. “You’ll be their target now too. If a vampire has corrupted a slayer, he’s simply too dangerous to exist. They’ll overwhelm you with sheer mass of numbers, and that will be it. That’s their modus operandi with a mated pair.”

Spike ignored the deliberate insult that he had contaminated the Slayer, and the danger to himself. He focused on what was essential. “And what do you say, Watcher? You think she’s subverted?” Spike picked Buffy up and settled back into the lounger with her, sending her mentor a piercing look. Giles was a savvy and formidable man. He could be ruthless, and was, in fact, the only human aside from slayers, that Spike had ever respected. He would be a problem, should he choose to be; especially since Spike knew that Buffy wouldn’t allow him to be eliminated.

Looking down at her, Spike noted that she hadn’t stirred when he moved her, and this distracted his thoughts away from the Watcher. He smoothed her hair worriedly. ‘What’s the matter, Buffy? Please wake up and tell me. We’ll work it out together.’

Giles studied Spike’s absorption in Buffy for several moments before answering. “I’ve researched your dossier, investigated everything I can find on you ever since you first arrived to threaten my slayer. I’ve also studied you directly.” Sighing, he continued, “I’ve concluded that you are loyal to those who, for want of a better term, you love.” He refused to back down when Spike looked up and glowered at him for that, instead staring back stonily with narrowed eyes. “You’ll do anything in your power to protect and make those people happy.” Removing his glasses to polish the lenses, the Watcher admitted wryly, “Actually, I believe it’s more likely that you’ve been subverted by her than that she has been by you.”

Spike gave an ironic nod and half grin. “Right you are. You were the only one on the Council with a lick of sense, so of course they kicked you off. Always been a pack of fools, killing their greatest allies, suppressing their best and brightest members.” Twitching an eyebrow cockily, he taunted, “Vamps’ve done right well down through the ages, what with the Council being such power hungry dobbers. Wankers’d rather have a young, green slayer they can control than a strong, mated one who gives them two bangs for their buck.”

Spike shrugged his shoulders irritably and commented vaguely, “Seems a vamp picks up slayer values during the mating process. I’m itching with the need to go out n’ do some good.” The vampire silently considered his own network of spies that the humans weren’t aware of. He’d be able to protect his slayer from any piddling wet teams that came along. He’d eliminated enough of them in his day that had come after Drusilla and him. “Back before the mating, Watcher, I’d have done something about the Council’s threat to her. Now I guess that for the time being, I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt. If the time comes that they needed fixing, I’ll take care of it...Right, well, I’ll deal with them later. Now I need to know what’s wrong with Buffy.”

Giles observed him warily for a moment, then realized that he agreed with the vampire on that issue at least, and nodded. Laying his hand on Buffy’s forehead, he noted that it was warm, her skin was dry, and her color was good. He lifted her eyelids to check her pupils. They reacted normally to light. Holding her wrist, he counted her pulse. It was strong. Taking a stethoscope out of a cabinet, Giles listened to her heart, lungs, and abdomen.

“I wasn’t aware you knew medicine, Watcher.” Spike commented, observing him intently.

Tapping her knees to test her reflexes, Giles replied, “Yes, well, we all take paramedic training as part of our education.”

“Paramedic, huh...” Spike commented doubtfully. “You a sawbones?” He recognized expertise when he saw it.

“Not officially, but I’ve done extensive research on the topic,” Giles admitted. Clearing his throat self-consciously, he turned to put the stethoscope away.

“You did a fine job of teaching her emergency medicine, by the way,” Spike complimented him.

Giles shook his head and snorted that if he’d known who she’d use her knowledge on, he might not have bothered.

Spike gave a short bark of laughter, hugged her and turned his attention back to Buffy’s condition. “Do you think it’s some kind of spell or a slayer trance, maybe?”

“I’ll cast a ‘Deep Seeing’ and look for magicks around her.” The Watcher Mage set to work but a few minutes later was forced to conclude, “There are none. All right, start at the beginning. Tell me everything that’s happened today so I can try to figure out what put her into this state.”

Chapter 6 - In the Beginning by Joyful Dayz
Chapter 6 – In the Beginning

Spike looked at the Watcher with one brow raised mockingly, but didn’t repeat the obvious ‘Tell you EVERYTHING?’ aloud. Giles caught his meaning though, and flushed angrily. He muttered, “This is impossible. She hates you, I just don’t understand how this happened.”

Eyes dropping to half mast, the handsome blond drawled, “The lady doth protest too much, methinks.” After a short pause during which the two stared at each other stonily, Spike relented and gave Giles an edited version of the afternoon. He ended with, “We were sparring, and suddenly she got this horrified look on her face, screamed, and started sobbing that she ‘couldn’t do it again, she just couldn’t...’ Took me a long time to get her calmed down, but finally she fell asleep. Never did tell me what was wrong. She’s been like this ever since.”

Giles raised his eyebrows, pursed his lips and silently stared Spike in the eye. When he continued to look clueless, the Watcher asked sardonically, “You were sparring? And your chip didn’t fire?”

Spike’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. “How could I be such a nod cock? My chip didn’t fire! Of course that’s what’s wrong with her. Buffy!” he cried, shaking her gently, “How could you doubt me? I’d dust myself before I did anything to make you kill me. I’d never hurt you like that!” As she lay there unresponsively, Spike glanced up at the Watcher, uncomfortable with his shrewd perusal. “Sorry for the show, Rupes. I know what I need to do now to wake her.” He stood with her in his arms, “I’ll just take her back...”

Giles was astonished that Spike wasn’t rejoicing in his freedom from the chip, but instead was hurt that Buffy hadn’t understood that he’d changed. Of course she wouldn’t realize that. He hadn’t warned her about mating, just claims; and he wouldn’t have believed the vampire’s reaction himself, if he hadn’t seen it first hand. Despite seeing Spike’s concern for her, Giles moved in front of the door. He knew he was helpless to keep the vampire from leaving, but felt compelled to try. “Her fear was valid. What are you going to do now that the chip is either gone or nonfunctional?”

Spike sighed, “Guess it was asking too much to expect you’d know that my priorities’ve changed. She’s all that matters. Her values are mine. Does that answer your question?”

“You said as much to her just now, but I have to make sure. I apologize for offending you, but it’s not an easy thing to believe. Why would you come over to her side rather than taking her to yours?”

Spike rolled his eyes and sat back down with her. “Watchers. It’s so like you gits to chronicle the part of the facts that suit you, then ignore those that don’t. Can see you need some lessons in vampire history. You aware of the relationship between the slayer demon and vampires?”

Giles glanced at the unconscious slayer, cleared his throat, and replied, “It’s referred to as the slayer essence, not demon, but yes, we know that they’re related to each other. Past research indicates that is why slayers are more attuned to vampires than to other types of demons.”

Spike barked with acerbic laughter. “Essence, demon, same thing, Watcher. Giving it a pretty name doesn’t change what it is. Slayer’s more than just kin to vampires, she IS one. In the pre-existence, the Slayer was among the strongest of vampires...”

Giles was startled into bursting out, “The pre-existence?”

“What, you think you humans are the only ones in the universe with creation legends, before and after lives?” Spike shook his head with exasperation. “Bigots. As I was saying, in the pre-existence the Slayer was one of the most powerful vampires, a leader in the ruling Order, but she rebelled against it. See, the Slayer didn’t agree with killing humans when turning them, said it was wrong. Wanted to form symbiotic relationships with ‘em.

“When the vampire demon inhabits a living body, it doesn’t need to drink blood, has the real thing in abundance; but the human body is only strong and comely for a couple of decades, then everything starts going downhill; ages, eventually dies. It’s inconvenient having to find a new body every 50 years or so. Also annoying, having to put up with the vagaries of short lived humans. You lot can be so stubborn and shortsighted, and with a soul in the host body, you can’t just be ignored. The order didn’t want to deal with you. Slayer was adamant however. Believed in human rights. As she was also very beautiful and charismatic; she converted a lot of followers.” Spike gave Giles a significant look, and Giles realized that Spike had been in that number.

The vampire continued, “She eventually started a war. Of course, the Order won the fight, since people die when they’re turned. Slayer was cast out, doomed to exist forever without a body. Her followers weren’t banished with her, though; they figured she’d be too powerful if she had us with her.”

Spike’s face flattened into an expressionless mask. “Instead, we were...punished...for our rebellion. When they deemed we were suitably chastened, and that we had given up our radical ideas, we were given dead bodies.” He shrugged philosophically. “A dead body’s better than no body, after all...though it took some of us longer than others to show them the proper respect. They had the added assurance that we wouldn’t make any more trouble because as we cross the veil and receive our bodies, we forget the pre-existence.”

Giles thought of the vampire pre-existence, sometime before the first vampire came to earth, certainly thousands of years before the present time, and of Spike being “punished” until he was suitably respectful, a mere 120 years ago. He shivered.

Spike returned to his narrative. “Slayer vowed eternal retribution for the humans, but couldn’t do anything about it until around 3000 thousand years B.C., when vampires were overrunning the African continent. A group of human shamans petitioned the Powers That Be for help. Guess who answered their plea?” Spike paused, grinning.

Giles nodded thoughtfully, “The Slayer.” The story of the Slayer answering the first Watchers’ supplication was among the initial legends new watchers learned, but they weren’t aware of her origins. On second thought, some Council Head in the past had undoubtedly suppressed the truth about the slayer essence, he thought cynically. They’d have had to know her nature to infuse her into the original girl. That she was actually a disaffected vampire was an unsettling thought. The thought that demons had their own heavens and hells was bewildering as well.

“Right in one; the Slayer,” Spike answered. “She picked some poor girl, her human soul mate, to be the ‘Chosen One’ and with the shamans’ mojo, the Vampire Slayer was born. She’s been fighting for you ever since. Must be a wee bit frustrating to her that you all keep dusting her vampire mates and killing her humans. I’m amazed that she hasn’t washed her hands of you.”

Giles felt a shock of surprise at that thought. Yes, under the circumstances, it was surprising that the Slayer was still fighting for them. It behooved the Council to rethink their philosophy. If he ever got the chance, he’d take that crucible up. What a fight that would be.

Spike snorted, shook his head and continued, “Occasionally down through history, the demon slayer has met vampires that were on her side of the war in the pre-existence. A few times they’ve fallen in love before killing each other. If he’s a soul mate to both her and her human, they mate.

“That’s why you watchers should trust a slayer’s mate. He has a history of fighting alongside the Slayer for the sake of humans. His empathy with them is brought out during the mating. He’s double bonded to the demon and the human. There’s no way he’ll subvert the Slayer, he has two good women keeping him in line.” Spike grinned wickedly, “Yeah, Watcher, I know, I’m well and truly pussy whipped.”

Giles gave a quick snort of laughter; shook his head, then asked seriously, “How is it that you’re so conversant with all of this? You’ve always given the impression that you were an uneducated hoodlum.” Watching the smirk widen on Spike’s face, the watcher was reminded anew that he had underestimated him, that there was more to the vampire than they’d given him credit for. He was deeper, capable of subterfuge, more dangerous than expected. He felt an unexpected flash of relief that Spike was no longer a threat to Buffy, then felt disgusted with his past complacency.

How could he have forgotten the night when Angel had warned them all that Spike was worse than other vampires, that he never stopped until he got what he wanted. The vampire had not decided to kill Buffy as they had originally feared he’d do. Instead he’d fallen for her. Giles was aghast that he had so completely ignored Angel’s warning. Spike had persevered until he’d unaccountably, inconceivably, gotten what he wanted—her. Dangerous indeed. Spike’s chuckle brought the watcher back to the present.

Still amused with himself, Spike confided, “William was bookish. I’ve gotten out of the habit, not cool, don’t you know; but actually I’m rather bookish myself. When Angelus first told me about the existence of slayers, I became fascinated with them, obsessed you might say. Learned everything I could about ‘em, and about where they come from. Went so far as to hunt ‘em down and ‘study’ them.

Then, the mating brought the memorys forth, so I remember it all as well. Now I know why I’ve always been drawn to slayers,” he murmured, smoothing Buffy’s hair back gently from her face.

Giles’ eyebrows rose in surprise and he removed his glasses to polish them again. He’d known of Spike’s obsession with slayers, of course. It made him more deadly than other vampires to Buffy personally, and had been the basis for why he’d studied the vampire so extensively. But to call himself “bookish”, suggested character traits beyond what Giles had expected. “Do all vampires have distinct interests and personalities?”

“Just like all human beings do, Watcher. When someone is turned, a vampire soul that best matches the body takes over. ‘Soul mates,’ if you will. Makes a stronger bond that way. A body that belonged to a bookish human will go to a bookish vampire. Witness my friend Dalton.” He shrugged, “Witness me. Of course, poor ol’ William and I had other traits in common besides just bookishness.” Then he laughed, “On the other hand, note what kind of vampire Harmony is.”

Rupert Giles had never for a moment considered that individual demons were different or distinct from each other. “Huh...We’ve always believed that the vampire simply retained the memories and some characteristics of the person it supplanted. And vampire souls? You’re actually saying that vampires have souls as well?”

“Not only are you watchers bigots, you’re idiots as well! Every living thing has a soul. What do you think makes it alive, aware? The vampire demon ‘is’ a soul. Every species of demon has its own kind of soul. If you want to be precise, humans are just another type of demon. Animal souls are different yet again, but they’re all still souls.”

Giles’ agile mind was intrigued. This was a revolutionary way of thinking. It was natural, he supposed that people would be human-centric, but it had never occurred to him that there was an entire other philosophy of life. The superiority of the human soul over a demon was fundamental in human psychology; in fact, the majority of humans didn’t even believe in the existence of demons, let alone that they had souls! He wondered if it might not be integral to the survival of the human species, as many kinds of demons were inimical to and decidedly fiercer than humans. If people were sympathetic to demons, they’d be at an even bigger disadvantage in the struggle.

This would require study & pondering; things that took a lot of time that he hadn’t had in the past, but did now. Giles had found a new passion; thoughts of drowning his misery in the bottom of a bottle, and his feeling of uselessness now that he no longer worked for the Council, faded from his awareness.

“I’d like to continue this discussion from time to time. Is that agreeable with you?” he asked the vampire who had been patiently observing as the Watcher found new meaning in his life, new horizons to investigate.

“Sure, I’m at your disposal, so to speak.” Spike grinned cheekily, and stood with Buffy once again.

Giles gave Spike a half smile in acknowledgement of his wit, then seeing him move towards the door, looked pained but resolute. “Bring her back, please, when she’s awake so that I know everything is all right?” Spike called over his shoulder, “Will do, Watcher.” The scholar selected a couple of philosophy books from the shelf to distract himself from the thought of his Slayer being mated to a Master Vampire, and began his new line of research.

Chapter 7 - What Big Teeth You Have by Joyful Dayz
Chapter 7 - What big Teeth You Have

Spike cradled Buffy against his chest as he moved silently through the gathering dusk. Now that he wasn’t frantic with worry over his slayer, he was able to drink in the beauty of the evening. The glowing sky made a breathtaking foil for the stark, black silhouettes of trees. Yellow gleamed at the horizon, flowing into a glowing orange, then to pink, turquoise, lavender, and finally purple before fading to black. It was a study in contrasts, like he and Buffy. The cadences of a poem started to form in his Maybe later. Now he needed to set things right with his woman. Huh, he thought. The poetic juices are flowing again. Isn’t that just...neat. Yesterday he would have rejected those thoughts as being wussy. It seemed he was going to be able to accept that part of himself better now.

Entering his crypt, Spike laid Buffy down on the sofa while he pushed an old sarcophagus in front of the door to keep her snoopy friends from barging in during the middle of things. He’d have to see about rigging up a bar for the door, or maybe now that he was with the Slayer, he should be thinking about somewhere else to live. A feeling of joy flooded his heart as he thought about Buffy being his. Picking her back up and holding her close, Spike bypassed the ladder to the lower level and jumped down, landing lightly on the balls of his feet. Laying her on the bed, he moved around the room lighting candles, liking the ambiance of soft flickering light. Then he stripped both of their clothes off. He didn’t fancy ending up slashing through them again. Of course, she’d probably belt him in the jaw for the effrontery, but he might as well be hanged for a wolf as a lamb.

Climbing into the bed with her, Spike brought his demon features forward, slashed his wrist with a claw, and held it against her mouth, willing her to drink. She just lay there, blood pooling in her mouth, so he massaged her Adam’s apple downward, whispering, “Swallow, Buffy, swallow...Drink, sweetheart, drink...Swallow, baby, swallow...” Finally her throat worked and she swallowed. Moving over her, Spike slipped his fangs into her neck. Her life giving blood flowed down his throat. Suddenly they were linked mind to mind, and he found her curled up in a ball, rocking and whispering, “How could I have done it again?...I can’t kill him, I love him...I have to...but I can’t...”

Spike lifted her from the floor of her mind and shook her, saying, “Buffy, how could you have so little faith in me? How could you think I’d do something so’s you’d have to kill me?!” As her head flopped back on her neck, he shook her again, “Didn’t you pay attention to ANYTHING that came through the mating?”

She opened her eyes and stared at him in surprise, “Huh?”

“Well, pay attention NOW, Slayer! Watch,” he punctuated with a third shake.

And into Buffy’s mind flowed Spike’s history, from his pre-existence as one of the Slayer’s most valiant warriors, to their being overrun by sheer numbers and losing the war, to the banishment of the Slayer, Spike’s endless torment as punishment for following her, and finally being given William’s body. She saw Spike’s life with Angelus, Darla, and Drusilla, how they tortured and abused him, and how he became vicious and deadly out of self defense. Finally she witnessed Dru leaving him, his falling in love with her, Buffy, and the change that gradually came over him through that love.

Buffy realized that she had seen all this during the mating, but had been so confused and overwhelmed by what was happening, that she hadn’t been able to understand it, and had shut it out as sensory overload. Lastly she lived again their mating, her collapse, Spike carrying her through the sunshine, and his confrontation with her watcher; then she woke up. Tossing his wrist aside, she struck at his neck, swallowing the blood that flowed there, and crying, “Mine!”

“Mine!” Spike roared back, and they erupted into passion.

Later they lay quietly, Buffy mulling numbly over what she had learned about the Slayer. It seemed surreal. How could it be a vampire demon that gave her the instincts and strength of a slayer, a vampire demon that “made” her a slayer? It was mind-boggling. Her whole life was unbelievable. Just the existence of vampires was ridiculous, let alone that one of them had turned against their kind and taken mankind’s side. Unbelievable that that vampire repeatedly possessed human girls, made them into superwomen and had been fighting for humans with them down through the ages, against other vampires and demons.

It made her head hurt and she wished she could just deny it all, like she was used to doing with things that she didn’t want to accept. But she couldn’t deny it. Something inside her was telling her that it was the truth; was yelling at her to buck up and accept reality. Something inside her was shouting, ‘You aren’t some weak, pathetic little girl that has to deny what is real in order to protect your sanity! If you were, I’d never have “chosen” you in the first place!’ With a start, Buffy realized that the part of herself that she had always thought of as her slayer instinct, was actually an entirely different person, a sentient being; a fierce, primal warrior for the Light--the Slayer. The conviction flowed through her that she, Buffy, was a strong, fierce warrior in her own right, and she was worthy of the Slayer Demon...Worthy of a demon. Huh...

Spike lay quietly on his side, giving her some time and space to take it all in. Gazing at her, he thought that she looked different, somehow. With a shock, he realized what it was. Clapping his hand to his neck, he fingered the wounds and remembered that Buffy’s last bite had felt sharp, like a puncture, not like a dull, tearing human bite. Buffy’s incisors had lengthened, sharpened, and formed elegant, lethal fangs! Suppressing both feelings of panic and roars of excitement, he searched her face, noting that her beauty was unmarred and her other teeth were as straight as normal, but definite fangs had dropped. He gently laid his hand over her heart, feeling as well as hearing the reassuring ‘lub-dub’; finding comfort in the continued warmth of her body. Tentatively, he touched his finger to the tip of her incisor and showed her the drop of blood that formed on it.

Buffy was immediately diverted from her newfound self knowledge and shot up off the bed to look in the mirror, gaping at her reflection in horror. “You DID turn me after all!?!” Rage filled her mind and she glared into the mirror at her fangs, tensing to swing around and beat the hell out of that lying vamp. ‘I’ll make him sorry he ever met me! He’ll need to be healed all over again by the time I’m finished with him!’ she growled to herself, then belatedly registered what she was seeing there. ‘Oh, wait...I still have a reflection...whoa, so do you!’

Crossing the room, Spike snuggled into her from behind and ran his fingers soothingly up and down her arms. “Didn’t turn you, love. It’s too soon. You’d still be dead, remember? Your heart is still beating and you’re warm, yeah? No blood lust? No brow ridges?”

With each of his questions, Buffy calmed a little more. She focused on the beating of her heart. ‘Silly not to have noticed that with it pounding away like a sledge hammer,’ she thought, and traced her fingers searchingly over her face. ‘No, no brow ridges. And no craving for blood, well, except perhaps for an occasional taste of Spike’s,’ she smirked to herself, then felt amazed that she wasn’t repulsed by the very thought of it. Apparently her attitudes were changing as well as her abilities, like Spike had said they would.

Examining her teeth in the mirror, Buffy realized that she now had the vampire’s “built in weapon” that Spike had warned her about back when she had asked him how he’d killed two slayers. She doubted she’d ever actually use that weapon; after all, biting a smelly demon? Ugh. Concentrating on hiding the fangs, Buffy watched them retract into normal looking teeth and grimaced.

Maybe the fangs weren’t as horrifying, though, as she’d originally thought. Perhaps they could even be handy to have as a back up in emergencies, like if she lost her stake; a weapon of last resort, say. ‘Secret Weapon Slayer here, all baddies beware!’ She grinned to herself, but thought that she’d keep this one upgrade just that, a “secret weapon.” Except with Giles. She supposed he’d have to know. Turning to face Spike, she asked, “Why’d I get fangs, anyway?”

“Must’ve been your slayer demon, sweetheart. Prob’ly figures fangs are a plus, so gave ‘em to you. She is after all a vampire, ‘course she sees the advantage in them.” Grinning, he added, “Or maybe she just wants to be able to slip a tooth into me as handily as I can you,” he smirked, tongue reaching out to touch his top lip sensuously. “There’s no record of fangs appearing in plain human/vampire matings, so it has to have been the Slayer.”

Buffy pouted at that. ‘I think I preferred the old title, “slayer essence” to “slayer demon”. It just sounds more elegant,’ she thought. ‘Hypocrite’ she heard laughingly in her mind. ‘Well, I don’t understand why the Initiative didn’t register me as a demon, anyway, since you’re here inside me. Pretty sneaky of you, being able to hide from the Initiative.’

Buffy felt the satisfaction of the Slayer, and frowned. She had a feeling the Slayer Demon was something she’d never fully understand, and she didn’t like it when that happened. It made her feel dumb, and feeling dumb made her feel ornery. On top of that, it was humiliating; something else that made her ornery. Buffy was forced to realize that she’d always felt superior to demons, that she was a snob about them. Now she had to acknowledge that at least one was superior to her. Not only that, she thought morosely, she had a demon inside her, might even be considered a demon herself, by some. ‘Stubborn girl, don’t quibble, just accept, so we can meld,’ she felt inside.

To shut her slayer self up, Buffy asked Spike archly, “So...why didn’t you tell me about you and the slayer demon before?” She was so in the mood for a good fight. If he knew what was good for him, he’d indulge her.

Spike raised an eyebrow incredulously. “Didn’t remember the personal stuff until we mated, now, did I? You know that, Slayer. Besides, even if I had known and told you, would you have believed me?”

Buffy scowled. Her argument plan wasn’t going very well. He was being too logical. “So why didn’t you at least tell me I have a demon in me? You knew THAT!”

Patiently he reiterated, “Again, would you have believed me? Besides, thought you already knew. Isn’t that what watchers are for? To teach you slayers what’s what? Although it seems he didn’t even know until I told him. Stupid git watchers.” He shook his head at the idiocy of humans.

Loathe to leave it without a fight, Buffy tried a new tack. “So do I need to be jealous of the Slayer demon? You loved her first, did you think I wouldn’t see? That you loved her way back in the beyond? It’s really her you love and not me at all, isn’t it?” The moment the words came out of her mouth, she realized that she meant them. ‘Why WOULD he love me, when he has a slayer demon? I’ve never been able to hold onto a man,’ and with a cry she leapt in a single bound to the top floor of the crypt and turned to rush out, heedless of the fact that she wasn’t wearing anything.

“You have GOT to be kidding me!” Spike roared and leaped after her.

Chapter 8 - by Joyful Dayz
Author's Notes:
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just like to make them happy.
Chapter 8 – The Better to Bite You With, My Dear

Shoving the stone coffin aside that was barring the sepulcher’s door, Buffy raced outside and through the cemetery. She raged internally at the Slayer while dashing angry tears from her eyes. ‘I can’t believe I said that! You made me say it, didn’t you? I NEVER would have said such an asinine thing before you came out of hiding! Are you happy now? We’ve both lost him, because I will never play second fiddle to anyone, not even you! Why couldn’t you just butt out and leave well enough alone?’

‘Hiding your feelings and insecurity from him will only cause problems between the two of you, little sister,’ Buffy heard in reply.

“Hah! You didn’t deny making me say it! How did you make me do it, you interfering demon thing?” Buffy raged.

“I can’t make you do anything. Free will, remember? I just nudged you in the direction you wanted to go but were too stubborn and inhibited to take on your own.”

“Arrggh,” Buffy growled, angry about being told that she was stubborn and inhibited as well as insecure. It was revolting, having someone in her head, calling her on all her stupidities. It was totally gross to think that the slayer demon had always been there, had seen every idiocy she’d said or done or even thought since being chosen.

‘Don’t get in a lather, my fierce little one. You’re no more foolish than any of the others, and are certainly a better slayer than most have been.’

‘Great,’ she thought mulishly, ‘I’m no more foolish than the others. Small comfort that is.’ Suddenly Buffy was pitched to the ground. She’d been so inwardly focused that she hadn’t heard anyone come up behind her. ‘Stupid. Way to get yourself killed,’ she scolded herself for running out without weapons, and then even worse, for letting her emotions blind her to her surroundings.

Spike had tackled her from behind in a flying leap. Skidding over the grass, they plowed through a little picket fence surrounding a new grave and knocked the tombstone askew. “What the bloody hell is the matter with you!?!” He cried as they leapt to their feet.

Buffy smashed him in the nose, sending him flying into the tombstone again, this time completely unearthing it. Spike pitched up against a stone angel in the next lane, knocking it off its stand. “Like I told her, I will NOT play second fiddle, so you can just stay the hell away from me!” She screamed and turned to run once more.

With a frustrated roar Spike jumped back up and tackled her again. Hauling her to her feet, he bopped her on the nose, though much more gently than she had him. They traded punches and kicks, leaping, flipping and throwing each other, dancing in a beautifully choreographed symphony of movement. Throughout it all, Spike scolded her.

“It wasn’t her I fell in love with over the past year, you dozy bint, it was you!...I didn’t even know for sure that she was still in there!...For all I knew, the Council of Wankers had long since…stripped her of everything but her strength!...In fact, I’m sure that if they could have found a way to…they would have done just that!...

“The only influence the demon had on me…is that she kept you alive...until I began to respect you...and then to like you enough...that I didn’t really want to kill you anymore...was having too much fun dancing with you...”

Buffy interrupted with, “I’ll have you know...that it was my mother who kept me bashing you in the head with an ax!...guess that damaged your brain and you don’t remember, huh? Mr. Full of Yourself?!”

“Fine woman, your mum,” he smiled fondly, “But she never would have gotten the chance…to brain me without the slayer...’cause you’d have been dead that first night at the Bronze...for make no mistake, missy…you were just my type...a delectable li’l bit of veal...shakin’ your arse out on the dance floor...teasing poor ole Xander ‘til he was near to frothing at the were exactly the nubile little beauty I would’ve seduced away from him and eaten right then...if I hadn’t smelled slayer on you!...

“That made you worthy of a more elaborate dance... In time, and against my will, I fell in love with you, Buffy...not with the slayer, with YOU!...The fact that it turns out I love the demon as well should relieve you!...What if I hated her like Angelus does?...You can’t be rid of her, she’s part of you!...I love all of you, you silly twit!”

Neither of them noticed the audience they were attracting until a nearby conversation began to penetrate their haze of anger and absorption with each other.

“Well now, cop an eyeful o’ that!” remarked a female voice with a course English accent.

“Dibs on her. They’re both eye candy, but only she’s edible,” came the more refined reply.

“Oh, I don’ know, I’d be willing to take a bite out o’ him. Get a load o’ that six pack an’ woodie!” countered the first.

“I’m rather partial to HER tush, and check out the lines of those gams...”

From another direction, “Shut up you loudmouths! You’re interruptin’ the best show I’ve seen all year!”

“Yeah, I’m getting some great new moves, here! Haven’t seen a fight like this in a long time,” commented someone else.

“Hey, don’t stop now, you two and your angst are better than ‘Passions’,” called a feminine voice.

From yet another direction, “Forget angst, you two beat the nudie bar any day! You guys should sell tickets,” and a chorus of “Hear! Hear!” wolf whistles, laughter, and crude remarks about various portions of exposed anatomy filled the air.

Buffy and Spike whipped around to stand back to back, and found themselves surrounded by a circle of vampires jostling with each other for front row viewing.

“There must be forty or fifty of them, and we don’t have any stakes,” Buffy whispered.

“Time to put our new superpowers to the test, pet,” Spike murmured as the crowd surged forward. Picking his direction, he dove head first into the midst of them, bowling those in front of him down. Skidding on his belly, Spike slid past the picket fence and scooped up a couple of the posts. Jumping up, he tossed one to Buffy where she was punching and kicking her way towards him.

Buffy caught it and staked the streetwalker vamp that had been vocally admiring Spike’s assets. “Cop this!” she cried as her entire hand rammed straight through the black bustier and out of her back before the sneering, red lipped face dissolved into dust. “Oops, guess I don’t know my own strength,” snickered Buffy.

A vamp in a pin striped business suit cried out in anger as his mate disintegrated, and grabbed her from behind. Throttling her with his forearm, he leaned down to rip out her throat. Without thought, Buffy’s fangs dropped. She slashed his arm through the bone, leaving it hanging by a flap of skin. The vamp screamed and let go, staring back and forth between her and his dangling arm in shock and horror. Wearing a bloody, fangy grin, she quickly put him out of his misery with the stake.

As Buffy was always within his field of awareness, Spike noticed and crowed with delight. “Hah, that’ll teach ‘im to leer at your tush! No one ogles you but me!” He’d been toying with a highly muscled seven foot tall vamp in a fistfight. Punching him rather more firmly in the solar plexus, Spike sent the ex-Sunnydale U football player flying back to hit a tree.

Yanking him back up and continuing to beat on him, Spike said, “See, Slayer, told you so! ‘Fist ‘n Fangs,’ there’s nothin’ like ‘em!” He leapt up to grab the creature’s head in both hands and twisted hard, wrenching it completely off. “Cool,” Spike said, brushing dust from his hands. He hadn’t meant to remove the head, had just planned on breaking the neck and immobilizing him so they could do a staking clean up at leisure.

Other vamps had taken Spike’s lead and grabbed stakes from the fence. “Traitor!” cried one dressed in the formal wear of the eighteenth century aristocrat. “Why do you align yourself with the Slayer and slaughter your own kind?” He rushed Spike with stake raised high.

“There’s no honor in killing defenseless humans. I prefer a more challenging confrontation,” answered Spike with the same upper-crust accent the other had used. He leaped into the air with a sidekick and struck the gentleman vamp so hard on the underside of his chin that his head snapped back with an audible crack. He fell motionless to the earth.

Immediately, several vamps tackled Spike at once. Driving him to the ground and piling on top, they ripped and tore at him with their teeth and claws. Pushing off with his hands and feet, he exploded from the heap, sending them flying in all directions. The blond vampire whirled through his dazed attackers like lightening, stake and dust flying. “YEEEAAAH!” he cried, exhilarated. “Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about!”

Distracted by Spike’s war whoop, Buffy laughed as a spiky haired punk wearing stud covered leather attacked her. Swinging a heavy chain above his head like a lasso, he eyed her from head to toe and back again. With a grinning leer, he taunted, “Why Slayer, what big...teeth you have!” and sent the end whistling through the air directly towards her face.

Buffy reached out and caught the chain before it hit, gave a jerk and yanked him down to her level. “The better to bite you with, My Dear,” she quipped back, and slashed her fangs across his neck, severing his head cleanly, then sneezing several times as he exploded into dust.

“Got to watch that, Slayer,” Spike cried, as he ripped the arm off a long haired hippy that had rushed her as she sneezed. “Keep your face clear of the fallout, or at least hold your breath.” He whapped the hapless demon with his own arm, berating him for unsportsmanlike conduct in attacking Buffy when her eyes were closed.

“Ow, stop! I was just trying to take the opening I saw! You know how it is! Ow, Ow!” he danced around as Spike slapped him about the head and spanked him on the rump.

“Shame on you,” admonished Spike, and adjusting his hold so that the elbow locked, swung the arm as if it were a baseball bat, and sent the head flying across the cemetery. Dust billowed again.

Buffy turned to a group that were charging forward with stakes and knives. She kicked the stake from the leader’s hand directly into an adjacent chest, snatched the knives from the next two in each of her hands at the same time, and slashed both throats to send the heads flying. Simultaneously she kicked out behind her, throwing that attacker back onto the stake of the vamp behind him. Then she grabbed the remaining two and knocked their heads together so hard that their skulls were crushed and they fell senseless to the ground.

Before long the blond duo was chasing down the stragglers who lost their nerve and tried to get away. ‘No sense in letting them blab about my new secret weapon,’ thought Buffy. Upon their return, they staked the odd demon that had been left immobile in the grass. Then on Buffy’s insistence, they gathered up the scattered fenceposts, rebuilt the little fence and set the various disturbed headstones back into place.

“Can’t believe I’m on clean up duty after a fight. Not fitting for a master vampire, I tell you. Just plain boring, it is…” groused Spike with lower lip thrust out. “Hen pecked, that’s what I am.”

“Oh quit whining, Spike. Buck up and get used to the world of grown ups,” said Buffy, glancing up irritably as they headed back to the crypt for some clothing.

With pursed lips, he gazed at her from beneath lowered lashes and considered the ways that he’d soon have his little hen pecking him. A small, private smile formed.

She caught her breath at the swift rise of sensuality in his expression. Irritation morphed into excitement and launching herself at him, she cried, “Ooh, look at those lips, gonna get ‘em, gonna get ‘em!”

Remembering saying the same thing to her during Willow’s engagement spell, Spike laughed and caught her in his arms. Buffy landed against him and wrapped her legs around his waist. Lost in each other’s eyes, neither of them noticed the ancient that was observing them from the shadows of a nearby tomb.

Chapter 9 - Not a Dirty Little Secret by Joyful Dayz
Author's Notes:
They aren't mine, I just like to make them happy.
Chapter 9 – Not a Dirty Little Secret

Once inside the crypt, Spike and Buffy washed off the gore that covered them and inspected each other for new injuries. Spike had a few fading lines from where the crowd of vamps had piled on and started ripping into him, but for both of them, everything had basically healed already. Buffy kissed an especially large mark on Spike’s flank where the flesh had been gouged out. As she stood up, Spike backed her against the wall and lowered his lips to her throat, nuzzling and nibbling along her carotid artery. “Do you believe me, then? Do you understand that I love YOU, Buffy? Not just the slayer part of you, but ALL of you. You’re one to me.”

“Yes, William, I believe you. Now shut up and kiss me,” she panted. His talented lips had already started a fire in her belly. Flipping away from the wall, Buffy reversed their positions and pushed Spike’s back against it as she pulled his head to her. Meeting his lips, she thrust inside to taste him passionately. A few moments later, however, Buffy reluctantly pulled away. “You told Giles we’d check back with him. Need to do that before we get too sidetracked, or he’ll be leading the gang over here to find out what’s wrong.” She brushed his seeking hands away and hopped down through the empty coffin that led to his bedroom. Grabbing their clothing that was lying by the bed, she leapt back to the upper level. After tossing Spike’s clothes to him, they dressed quickly and left.

At Giles’ apartment, Buffy gave a quick knock on the door and led Spike inside. They found the watcher pacing the floor. Books were scattered around the room. They hadn’t been able to hold his attention. Looking up, he frowned at them. “You all right, Buffy? I-I was considering coming over to check on you.”

Buffy glanced significantly at her vampire and said, “Sure. Sorry I worried you, Giles. I just kind of shut down for awhile there. I was so afraid that with the chip gone, I’d have to...”

“Yes, yes. I know. Buffy, do you understand the consequences of this? How could you let it happen? And you hated him!” Rupert Giles, a watcher of extraordinarily high intelligence and talent, was well aware that his arguments were futile, that it was too late; but he couldn’t keep himself from uttering them anyway. He had looked up the particulars of a vampire mating, and now knew exactly what had happened between them to cause it.

“Apparently I was in denial land about the hate-age,” Buffy smiled wryly. Catching the watcher’s glare at the vampire, she continued, “Now don’t blame Spike, Giles. It was my doing. He tried to talk me out of feeding him, told me it was dangerous, but I wouldn’t take no for an answer. We need him strong to protect Dawn from Glory! And then I caused the mating. It’s all MY fault.”

“Not all of it, Slayer, there were two of us there...” Spike tried to cut in, but Buffy wouldn’t let him shoulder the blame. “For all intents and purposes, it was my fault. And I’m not sorry.” She smiled softly up at her lover, “I’m glad.” Cupping his jaw tenderly, she repeated, “I’m glad.” Spike gazed at her in wonder and felt that his heart might burst with joy. Just twenty-four hours ago, he would never have believed that she’d be looking at him with love today. Everything he’d gone through from the beginning of time was worth it for this moment.

Giles cleared his throat, uncomfortable with witnessing the intense emotion passing between the two. To defuse the moment he asked about something that had been bothering him. He cringed from the intrusiveness of the question; knew it was private, and they might not tell him, but the watcher in him had a bad feeling about it, and he had to know. “Did you drink her blood from a cup?”

Spike stared expressionlessly at Giles, offended that he would ask something so personal. Rupert forced himself to persist. “If not, how did you do it without setting the chip off?” When it became obvious that the vampire wasn’t going to answer, he turned to his slayer.

She had been studying Spike’s poker face, and flashed him an irritated glance about the other women before admitting to her watcher, “He’d found a way to get around the chip. As long as she was distracted with...well with pleasure when he bit her, the chip didn’t fire.” Giles gasped and lunged at Spike in rage. “Giles!” Buffy cried, throwing herself between them, “He warned me about THAT ahead of time, too! So don’t go all outraged father on him!” Unable to stop in time, Giles plowed into Buffy, with an “ooff” as he hit the immovable wall of her body.

Thoroughly entertained, Spike laughed and said, “I can take care of myself, pet, you needn’t protect me; though I’m flattered that you want to.”

“Pardon me, Buffy,” Giles said, reaching out to steady her, then seeing that she didn’t need it, patted her briefly to assure himself that she was O.K. before dropping his hands. He cleared his throat, then became lightheaded as the implications of this new revelation that even chipped, Spike had been able to feed, filled his mind. Sitting down, his voice shaking from the surge of adrenalin, the watcher asked, “So you’ve been draining people all this time, even with the chip?”

“Not draining. Just a few sips here and there, and not even that since I fell for Buffy. Like I told her, the little darlings get clingy, and I haven’t been interested in anyone but her for some time now.”

Rubbing his forehead tiredly, Giles thought, ‘What fools we’ve all been yet again; dangerous indeed.’ “Yes, well, back to the mating. Buffy, The Council won’t allow this, you know.”

“Yeah. I saw your and Spike’s conversation about it. I’ll give the wankers...oops, didn’t mean to steal your word there, Spike,” Buffy paused as her vampire barked with laughter again and nodded approvingly at her. “I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt, but we’ll put some plans in place, just in case.”

Spike moved restlessly. They’d reassured the watcher, now it was time to go back to his crypt. He wanted her again. Giving Buffy a telling glance, he nodded towards the door. She shook her head at him minutely, and turned back to the watcher.

“Giles, there’s one thing I haven’t told you yet. I think you should know about it.” She concentrated and her incisors dropped.

Giles jumped up and cried, “Dear Lord!” He stared in shock at her deadly fangs for a few moments, then registered that she had no facial deformities. Calming, he reached out to take his slayer’s hand, palpated her pulse and cradled her hand in both of his to check her skin temperature. “Your eyes are still green. Fascinating,” he concluded and sat back down.

“O.K., Spock. You’re taking it better than I thought you would. Better than I did, actually,” Buffy said, bemused.

Spike had tensed when the watcher jumped up and reached for her, but not sensing an overt threat, hadn’t objected. He relaxed again as Giles returned to his seat. “Could’ve been a tad more gentle with watcher boy in the telling, love,” he grinned, “I’d rate you an eight out of ten for good shock value,” he chuckled, impressed with the watcher’s steady nerves, and relieved that Rupert hadn’t flown off the handle again.

“I assume this is a slayer engendered enhancement?” Giles asked, still studying her.

“English, Giles. Please,” Buffy said. Spike smiled gently at her, and catching the watcher’s eye, nodded. Retracting her incisors, Buffy looked from one of them to the other, and shrugged. “Sorry. I was afraid you’d be horrified, and it just seemed that showing you was the fastest way to get it over with.

“I didn’t think I’d be able to stand to use them, you know. I mean, talk about major ick factor, demon goo in my mouth?! But Spike and I, well we got ambushed by a bunch of vamps before we came over here, and the fangs dropped automatically. I used them without even thinking about it. I’m not sure how I feel about that now, but in the middle of the battle...” she shrugged, unsure how to finish.

“That’s good. They’ll be most valuable to you if using them comes naturally,” her watcher surprised Buffy by saying. She hadn’t expected him to be at all supportive about her new secret weapon. “You finished off all your attackers though, didn’t you?” Giles asked, concerned that a rumor might already be spreading around the demon world about the fanged slayer. If the Council got wind of that, they’d know immediately what had happened.

“We did,” Spike nodded and answered shortly.

Giles had them recount the details of the brawl with him as he took notes. He approved of their increased speed and strength and shook his head with a smile over Spike’s arm bashing. “Yes. This will certainly help defend against Glory!” he concluded. “Perhaps, if we can keep the Council unaware, your mating will be a positive thing. With that in mind, you shouldn’t tell your friends about the fangs, Buffy, the mating, or even your association with Spike, for that matter. It all needs to be kept on a need to know basis.”

“I agree about the fangs, but I’m not going to treat my relationship with Spike like a dirty little secret, Giles,” Buffy said, irritated that he would even suggest it. “The Scoobies and the Council both knew about Angel, they can handle Spike.”

“Buffy, you don’t seem to realize the danger here. The Council exterminates mated slayer/vampire pairs! They must be kept from finding out about you and Spike. The safest way to do that is to continue on as you have been. Don’t let anyone know things have changed. They’ll likely take the news about Spike worse than they did about Angel, and believe me, that was no picnic, trying to explain that association to them. Angel had a soul. Spike doesn’t, as far as they’re concerned. I doubt they’ll consider a chip an acceptable substitute.”

“Perhaps he’s right, love.” Spike said, pain filling his heart at the thought of not being able to share his love with her openly. He could see a downward spiral ahead. The longer they denied each other, the more they would wound each other, and the more she would pull away from him. But on the other hand, “Your safety is the most important thing,” he said aloud.

Giles gave Spike a startled, approving look. It would take awhile to get used to the idea that Buffy really did come first with the vampire.

“And how long will we keep it a secret, huh, Spike? Will we sneak around as if we’re ashamed forever, Giles?” Buffy demanded of them angrily.

The watcher wasn’t able to meet his slayer’s irate eyes. “Indefinitely would be the safest way to go.”

“The safest way isn’t always the right way. I’m not hiding Spike! It would be wrong,” she said emphatically. She’d seen the pain in Spike’s eyes when he agreed with the watcher. There was no way she was going to hurt him like that. They’d find another way.

Well acquainted with his slayer’s unreasonable stubbornness, Giles sighed. “Very well. But you know how your friends will react, especially after Angel. You can’t inform them of the mating, Buffy, so you won’t be able to tell them why they don’t need to worry,” He gave her a stern look. “And as for the Council, they’ll be looking for signs of a mating if they find out that you’re consorting with another vampire. At least be discreet. When you two were under Willow’s spell, you were nauseatingly free with your affections. If you do that again, they’ll be knocking on your door within a week. Please be prudent this time.”

“Fine. But I’m not hiding Spike from the gang,” she reiterated. “You’d think that spell would’ve clued me in on my feelings, wouldn’t you? Even my dreams tried to tell me, but I was so determined that it was wrong, that I just couldn’t love a soulless demon that I was clueless. And I hate being clueless! It makes me so damn mad! And he isn’t even soulless! Why has the Council lied to us about that?” She was almost shouting by the time she finished.

Giles cleared his throat and told her that it was a matter of philosophy. Traditional human philosophy just doesn’t recognize non-human souls.

“Well, traditional human philosophy is stupid,” she pouted, mourning for the slights she had given Spike over being soulless.

The tightness in Spike’s chest eased as he realized she wasn’t going to let him be pushed into a closet. He put his arms around Buffy and kissed her softly, calmingly, moving to gently touch her cheeks, temples and forehead with his lips. With his actions he told her that it was O.K. Everything was O.K. She loved him and that was all that mattered.

“Secrets have a way of outing themselves, Watcher. Even if the other kiddies were blind, Anya would have sniffed us out sooner or later. She wasn’t a vengeance demon for a thousand years without learning a thing or two. We’ll be ready for the Council dicks if and when they come,” Spike assured him as they left.

Turning back to his books, Rupert Giles shook his head, thinking they were foolish to be so sure they could handle the Council.

Chapter 10 - Cherished by Joyful Dayz
Author's Notes:
Not mine, I just like to make them happy/
Chapter 10 - Cherished

Walking back through the cemetery, Spike looped his arm around Buffy’s neck and pulled her in for a kiss. “Spike...” Buffy sighed as she reluctantly pulled her lips from his a few short moments later. “Remember what we promised Giles. No announcing us to the world.”

“I know, but bloody hell, I don’t like waiting. Always hated it,” he grouched. Trudging along with slumped shoulders, hands thrust in his pockets and a scowl on his face, he continued, “I want to be free to have a snog with you whenever the urge strikes.” Grinning down at her sheepishly, he admitted, “and it hits me rather often, babe.”

Buffy snorted a laugh in agreement. “Yeah, I remember, poor Giles during Willow’s spell. You won’t find me complaining, though.” She flashed him a radiant smile that reminded him of the Buffybot and made his normally silent heart throb in his chest. “I love it,” she said, then frowned, remembering, “It was so obvious. Willow told us to get married, not to fall in love. I can’t believe that spell didn’t tell us how we really felt about each other.”

“Oh, it told me. The horror I felt when the spell ended was not horror about loving you, but that the witch had magicked us against our will. Made my blood boil that she manipulated us like that. And I was furious that you weren’t really mine. Red had shown me what I was missing. I hated that I’d never have you. In self-defense I convinced myself that it was you I hated, but I knew otherwise. Deep inside, I knew. Never been one for self-delusion. It festered until it burst out in a dream and I had to admit it to myself.”

Buffy scowled, lower lip jutting. “I’m the queen of self-delusion. I probably never would have admitted my feelings for you if the mating hadn’t forced me to. I was all set to dust you this afternoon, you know. Before I found out you hadn’t told Glory about the key. I’m sorry, Spike. I should’ve known that you wouldn’t betray us.”

He smiled gently at her. “No worries, Slayer. It’s in the past. All I care about is the future.”

Buffy gazed at him in wonder, knowing that if he had misjudged her so badly, he would have had major ass kissing to do before she let him off the hook. ‘Hmmm, that gives me an idea,’ Buffy smirked to herself. ‘He’s due some of that himself.’ She was so relieved by Spike’s forgiving nature that she reached up and gave him a quick kiss in thanks; despite having just told him that they couldn’t show affection in public. “It’s a shame we have to keep it hush-hush,” she mused. “I’d like to lay you down right here and have my wicked way with you.”

He perked up, eyes glinting and blood rushing southward at the idea. “What say we take the battle to the wanking watcher boys, instead of waiting for them to come to us? Not give them time to prepare a massive strike against us, instead we hit them preemptively? Then we could live our lives as we see fit.”

Buffy sighed, “You know we can’t do that, Spike. We have to concentrate on Glory for now. Have to get her out of the way before we can worry about the Council.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Have to protect l’il Niblet before we can think of ourselves. Shit.” He went back to trudging.

Nearing the privacy of his crypt, Spike’s libido took control. He grabbed Buffy by the hand and burst into a run. “In a bit of a hurry, are you?” she laughed as he pulled her inside. He slammed her against the door, shutting it with a bang. Leaning his full weight against her, he lifted her face to his and kissed her feverishly. Her laughter stopped abruptly and she threaded her hands through his hair, releasing it into wild curls as she kissed him back, their tongues wrestling joyously.

Skin itching and aching for her touch, Spike ripped indiscriminately at his clothing. ‘Have to get the damn stuff off now.’ It was intolerable. Abandoning his earlier plan not to shred it again, he slashed his shirt and pants so they fell from him effortlessly as he ran his other hand over the patches of skin that Buffy was baring.

Buffy flipped them around to crowd Spike up against the door. Her clothing suddenly felt too tight, too restrictive, too much. It had to go. Now. She needed Spike’s hands on her and all that material was in the way. She shimmied and wiggled out of the jeans. Unable to bear tearing her lips from his long enough to pull the t-shirt over her head, she grasped the neckline with both hands and ripped it down the center, letting it fall to the ground.

Spike enfolded her in his arms so that she was flush against him. He gloried in her warmth as it burned him from head to toe. Lifting her, he leapt lithely down to the lower level, and laid her out on the bed. He loomed over her, intent on following her down, but Buffy shook her head and said, “Uh-uh. Last time you tasted me from head to toe. Now it’s my turn.” With a wicked smile, she twisted out from under him, pushed him down onto his back and climbed on top, straddling his hips. Her nipples peeped at him from her long curling hair. A shock of heat ran down Spike’s body and he grinned, tongue reaching out to moisten his lower lip. Flinging his arms wide, he rumbled from deep in his chest, “I’m all yours, Goldilocks.”

Buffy took his face in her hands and studied him for a few seconds, then sighed. “I’ve never been good with words, but the inner slayer tells me I need to open up about my feelings, so I’m going to try...” She paused for a long moment, “Your eyes...your beautiful eyes...” She searched for words that seemed to stick in her throat. “I’ve loved them from the first time I saw you; so blue, sometimes times so soft, other times so cold and hard, but always so beautiful; so infuriating,” she admitted with a small smile. Leaning down to softly kiss his eyelids, she touched her tongue to each. Next she kissed the tip of his nose while humming a soft “mmm”, then ran her lips over his cheeks.

Swallowing a lump in her throat that tried to keep her from continuing, Buffy breathed, “Your cheekbones...they were the first thing I noticed about you, even before I saw the color of your eyes; blade enticing, so tempting...” she nuzzled along them, “you have no idea what those cheekbones do to me.” Buffy became more confident as she watched Spike’s eyes darken and his lids lowering to gaze at her from beneath the screen of his lashes. His lips fell open and his breathing became deep and labored. She saw how her words affected him, how they delighted him. ‘Maybe I’m not hopeless after all,’ she thought. ‘Maybe I just needed the right man to bring the words out.’

Spike groaned as she passed on to nibble at his lips, “So full, so soft, so delicious. I’ve dreamed of these ever since you kissed me under Willow’s spell.” He tried to take control of the kiss, rising up and wrapping his arms around her. “No,” she pulled away. “It’s my turn, remember.” He relaxed back onto the bed with a heartfelt, “You’re killing me here, pet.”

Smiling secretly, she ran her lips over the sharp lines of his jaw. “Such a strong, determined jaw. Thank you for being so stubborn, for not giving up on me,” she murmured to Spike’s jaw line. Continuing down his corded neck, she sucked over the trail of his carotid. He reared up with a soft growl, flipping her under him. Buffy laughed and flipped him back to the bottom. “Naughty, naughty. Do I have to tie you down?” she asked archly. Spike’s eyes flashed yellow and he grinned.

“Never mind,” Buffy swallowed, a thrill going through her from head to core. “Keep still. Hold that thought for another time, Mr. Bondage,” she admonished sternly. He chuckled and subsided. “Such a sensitive neck,” she murmured as she moved on to knead his shoulders and smooth her hands down over his sculpted biceps and arms. Clasping his hands, she raised them to her lips and kissed each palm. He moaned as she sucked his fingers into her mouth, swirling her tongue over them. “Lethal, loving, talented, tender hands; they show the many contrasts that make up you.

“You’ve always been so confusing; evil but loving, cruel and yet showing flashes of kindness, killer but loyal and protective. I never could figure you out. But I mean to discover all of your secrets, you know,” she whispered seductively as she ran her hands down his body. On the word ‘secrets’, she briefly cupped his sack, squeezing gently as he gasped and bucked, then returned to trace her fingers over his firmly ridged stomach, massaging, leaning in to kiss and lick. “Glorious, muscular, masculine, man. I realize now that I’ve lusted after you for months,” she whispered as she cupped and kneaded his pectorals, then drew a nipple into her mouth and suckled as she swept her hands back over his shoulders and arms.

Spike trembled, clenching the bed sheets, willing himself to lie still. Never had he been cherished like this. If he died right now, he’d die fulfilled. “I’m going to spontaneously combust, here,” he groaned, “and you’ll be Mrs. Big Pile of Dust.”

Buffy laughed at his referral to their aborted engagement, and dipped her tongue into his navel, making him jerk and warningly rasp “Slayer...” through gritted teeth. She chuckled and continued along the sleek lines of his loins, kissing the junctures of his hips, smiling when he moaned again and shifted restlessly, erection bobbing eagerly. Avoiding that needy appendage, she next traced down his legs, whispering, “Beautiful, how can a man be so beautiful?” as she went.

Reaching his feet, she nibbled on his arches, making him gasp and laugh as he tried to pull away. Keeping a firm hold on his foot, she mimicked him by sucking his toes into her mouth, tonguing the tender spot between each. “I never knew feet were erotic before this. You taught me that.” She moved slowly back up his legs to his straining shaft, “You taught me everything...” She breathed over him, loving the way he shivered. Kissing the bell shaped tip, she opened her mouth to take him in.

Sliding down and sucking in as much as her mouth would take, she kneeded his balls and withdrew to the bell. Spike abruptly lost control. With a full throated roar, he lunged up and grabbed Buffy, taking her by surprise and flipping her over to lie beneath him. He rammed inside her and thrust deeply again and again, repeatedly hitting an inner bundle of nerves that she had never been aware of. Clamping her legs around his back, all she could say was “Oh, oh, oh.” Inside, she was a seething, incoherent mass of sensation. ‘Ah...tight, oh, full, shivery, ahhh, high, higher...’ and they both into a burst into a frenzied orgasm. Buffy saw stars and nearly blacked out with the intensity of it...

“Sorry, my love,” Spike murmured afterwards. “Next time, maybe, I’ll be able to hold still for your sweet lips.”

“Mmm,” was all Buffy could find the strength to say as she snuggled into his embrace.

A few minutes later he was turning the tables on her. Buffy roused from sated somnolence to a fever as Spike skated his hands and lips along the contours of her body, stringing nipping kisses from her lips to her neck. He fondled her breasts, pinching and twisting her nipples, sending fullness and heat rushing back into the base of her body. Then he soothed them with licks and kisses, as she clasped his head to her and shivered and moaned. He worshiped and devoured the sleek line of her stomach, then moved down to the V of her legs. He nuzzled her curls, teasing her with nips and licks along her mound before moving to the bottom of the V, inserting his tongue into the beginning of the crease there to tantalize the sensitive nubbin hidden underneath.

Buffy strained upward, trying to open her legs, but he held them closed and teased her, until she was gasping and flexing her hips rhythmically. Finally he hooked his hands under her knees and lifted and spread her legs wide to feast between. She shrieked and bucked at the first contact of his lips to the sensitive flesh there. He licked, supped, suckled her once again straining bud, stroked and caressed the swollen lips below with his tongue, then moved down to thrust it repeatedly inside her as she moaned and writhed, and flew into a shattering series of explosions.

Gripping her hips, Spike lifted her, flipped her over onto her stomach, drew her hips back and up so that she knelt before him. The cool air of the crypt washed over the heated skin of her exposed bottom. His palms caressed her fevered curves, boldly cruising into the crevices and valleys between and beneath her cheeks, fingertips tracing every swollen line, possessing every damp inch of skin. His fingers pressed into her slick heat and probed, sending flashes of fire and spiraling tightness coursing yet again through her body.

He moved his aching, straining shaft to the crease of her body, thrusting along her inner lips, moistening himself with her juices. Buffy abruptly decided she had let him lead long enough, and began bucking and maneuvering, changing the angle of her hips until one of his thrusts speared into her sheath. He groaned as he became deeply seated within her body and began a heaving, plunging rhythm that brushed her hidden nerves and filled her to bump against the base of her womb with every thrust. Soon her violent contractions had Spike roaring with painful pleasure, and he exploded into her, then collapsed on top of her. Rolling to the side so as not to crush her, he pulled his sleepy, smiling slayer into his arms.

Chapter 11 - Peace by Joyful Dayz
Author's Notes:
Not mine, unfortunately. I just like to give them a happy ending.
Chapter 11 – Peace

Spike held Buffy close, drowsily running his hands over her, tracing the length of her back, up and down her arms, over the curve of her hips, loving the warmth of her body, the smooth velvety skin over steely muscle. His caresses slowed and eventually stilled as he drifted into contented slumber. Buffy lay quietly and stroked the arm he had thrown over her. Her mind turned to the Slayer Demon and the many questions she still had. ‘Why didn’t you ever come out, tell me you were here before Spike and I mated?’

‘Now days, the vast majority of humans don’t believe in magic and demons, and so they are largely left alone. This wasn’t always the case. Fifteen hundred of your years ago, most people did believe. It was a time of great fear and persecution. Anything that was not mundane was at risk of attack. Any intelligent life that was not human was believed to be evil. Witch and demon hunters, dragon slayers, and other killers of the mystical were rampant. Several benign species of magical creatures, some sentient, some not, were hunted to extinction. Much of the antipathy the demon world feels for humankind today originated then, when their harmless brothers and sisters were indiscriminately slaughtered.

‘The Council of Watchers, fearing for their slayers’ safety, made the decision to conceal my nature. They gave it a top security clearance rating, only to be revealed to each new Head of Council as he took over his position. The one you call the Master killed a Council Head before he passed it along, and the secret was lost.

As they made the decision, they were aware of the danger in having only one secret keeper, but arrogantly believed they couldn’t be defeated. They felt that the knowledge that I am a vampire was so dangerous, that it was too risky for more than one person to know, for fear of the secret leaking out and starting a “slayer hunt”. Vampire slayers’ innate aversion to killing humans would have assured their deaths. The Council feared losing the entire line.

‘Had they consulted with me, I would have warned them that lodging any secret with a single man has never worked well. Somewhere along the line there is always an untoward death, and the secret is lost. Despite the risks involved, it always works better to have, at the minimum, a written record as backup. They should have had a mystical one, and an inner circle of human knowledge as well. I have put up with the Council’s interference since that time because their original intentions were good. They were trying to protect my little sisters.

‘Since the knowledge of my nature was lost, I have found that I cannot reveal myself to my slayer until she is mated. If I do so without her having a mate to support her through the shock of my emergence, she thinks she has lost her mind. Every time I have tried, she has believed either that she had developed a split personality, or that she was possessed by a demon.’

Buffy snorted with laugher over that, then looked worriedly at Spike, fearing she had awakened him. He slept on, oblivious to the momentous attitude changes taking place within her.

‘Yes, it is ironic,’ continued the demon slayer. ‘They can’t understand that though they are, in fact possessed, I do not “possess” them, I do not control them. I work only with them, I give them their power. Convinced they are crazy, they become despondent, develop a death wish, and before long, each and every one of them has been slain. I had to start over with a new Chosen One several times. Finally I gave up. Now I wait and watch for my vampires before I surface. With their help, my slayers can accept me. Unfortunately, most of my girls are killed before I find one of my vampires. Of those that I have found, most of my Chosen Ones and vampires have slain one or the other before they can start the dance.

‘With William the Bloody, I’ve had to be cautious. He has always sought out my slayers, but he is far too formidable for most of them to have a chance. William found me two times before you were chosen. He was my favorite in the mists of the past, my Champion. As you know, he is a mighty warrior. As you have also discovered today, he can pull victory out of certain defeat. He almost did it in the beginning. Only by birthing an immense new army at the end of the war, and overwhelming us with vastly superior numbers, was the Order able to overcome us.

‘I wanted William from the time he found us during your Boxer Rebellion in China, but poor Mei-Ling was no match for him, even as young as he was then. Several times through the years, he almost found us, and I had to maneuver my little sisters out of his path, knowing that they were not strong enough, or not fiery enough to be his type, and that he would kill them. I had brief hopes for Nicky when he found us. He danced longer with her than he did with Mei-Ling, but in the end he killed her as well.

Strangely, Buffy felt pity for the slayers who hadn’t been given the chance to know Spike. ‘Why didn’t you let more of them try? Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad it was me that got him, but still...’

‘Buffy, I am well acquainted with both his power and his tenacity. If William the Bloody had found them, they wouldn’t have survived. But I was protecting him too. If he became too notorious for killing too many slayers, the Council would have overwhelmed him with sheer numbers, as happened in the mists. I didn’t want to lose him.

‘You are the first in many years that I have thought might have a chance to take him, and therefore the only one he might be intrigued with enough, to leave alive long enough to start the mating dance. But you were still very young when he found you. I considered trying to hide you from him for a few years, until you were more seasoned, but he came and camped on your Hellmouth and I was unable to do so. He let you live that first night, though, and I started to hope.

‘Have you realized that every time he had the opportunity to kill you, he hesitated, stopped to boast or changed his mind, so that you lived? You passed up opportunities to kill him, as well. When you were both allowing the other to escape to live another day, I knew. You were the one. Someday you would be ready for him, and then I could show myself to you. Only you have had the allure for him as well as the power to stay alive long enough, that he fell in love with you. Never feel unsure of your place in his heart, Buffy.’

For a few moments Buffy lay and basked in the demon slayer’s words. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she didn’t have to wonder when her man would leave her. This one never would. ‘What are the odds that I would meet such a rare vampire? And on top of that, that I would catch him rather than kill him?’ Buffy realized that she would never have found the kind of love that she and Spike shared anywhere else. That brought Angel to mind. ‘Angelus wasn’t one of yours,’ Buffy deduced. Now she knew why Angelus hadn’t loved her without a soul.

‘That is correct. Angelus was one of the great ones on the other side. It is fitting that he is trapped in a body with a human soul, forced to fight for mankind.’ The demon laughed grimly. ‘With any luck, he will live a millennia more in that condition.’

Buffy agreed. Yes, hopefully Angelus would live with that punishment for a good many more years. Angel was a great warrior for the Light. He wasn’t her destiny, but she wanted him still here, still fighting. ‘You said something earlier about merging. What did you mean?’

‘Accept yourself and me fully, and our minds will connect. Before I emerge, I have to limit my help to ‘slayer dreams.’ Unfortunately, human dreams are so subjective, so obscure that my slayers and their watchers often misinterpret them, sometimes fatally so. After mating, when I come forward, we can communicate overtly. But with the merger, my power and experience will be directly available to you, just as you are accessible to me. We won’t have to waste time talking, you’ll ‘know’. We’ll become One in purpose and deed as well as body. We’ll be THE SLAYER.’ A deep boom echoed faintly in Buffy’s head, accompanying the Demon’s words.

Quietly Buffy lay and thought about what the demon slayer had told her. Did she want to meld with her, for that matter, did she dare to? Would she still be herself if she did, or would she be submerged in some great Slayer Consciousness? ‘Don’t be offended, but this is a way scary thought,’ she directed to the inner slayer. She felt a laugh, ‘No worries, little sister. It’s your choice. If you accept the meld, you’ll still be yourself, just as I am still myself, but you’ll also be more than yourself.’

Buffy contemplated her life since becoming a slayer. She thought of her many experiences, and of the many times she had desperately needed help. In the past, she had felt overwhelmed by her calling, alone in the midst of family and friends. She’d been resentful that she was asked to blindly fight the forces of evil, and had had a desperate desire to live a normal life.

She thought of the many times she had prevailed despite feeling alone; of all the good that she had been able to do. Buffy realized that fighting for the Right was a part of her now. In fact, she’d be devastated if she couldn’t be involved in ‘world save-age’ any more. She felt peace fill her soul. Buffy came to terms with the fact that while she couldn’t save everyone, there were many she could. No longer would she be tortured by those she failed to protect. She’d be able to feel thankful for those she did. For the first time she felt happy that she had been chosen to fight for the Light. She was no longer weighed down by her calling and responsibilities. As never before, she felt at peace with herself as a slayer.

As Buffy was able to accept herself, feelings of acceptance for the immortal Slayer within her grew. Her feelings of resistance, resentment, insecurity, inferiority, and jealousy of the demon slipped away. Now she realized that her wish to have a normal life had been a byproduct of her loneliness and fear. In truth, she had never been alone. She had an immensely powerful entity that was always with her; someone who had been through it all many times before, and would help her to take the right path through the coming trials in her life. ‘Bottom line, Buffy. You are not alone.’

With that thought, a feeling of fullness and joy passed over her. The deep booming that she had only heard earlier now reverberated throughout her body. She felt whole and complete, and knew that she and the demon slayer were now one in body and mind. Buffy’s being was filled with power AND peace, as only a fully integrated, self-aware Slayer could be.

To complete her happiness, Buffy now had her own mate, her own champion. He would stand by her side and lighten the load she carried in life. He would bring her joy and comfort; indeed, he would make her life worth living. She turned to Spike, and wrapping her arms around him, Buffy kissed him awake.

The end
End Notes:
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