Slaying Dragons
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS
characters belong to me.
Rating NC-17




Part One...


The night air was sharp and clear. The mild
autumn weather that Sunnydale had been
enjoying had finally begun to surrender to
winter's chillier bite.

Unbothered by the cold, Spike strode through
the park at a fast pace.

He was late. He'd promised Buffy that he'd
come and walk her home when she got off
work, but he'd gotten sidelined helping
Dawn study for an exam, and had lost track
of the time.

Knowing that the slayer wouldn't have the
patience to sit and wait, he'd sent Dawn
to bed and headed for the park she usually
cut through on her way home, hoping to at
least meet her halfway.

Picturing that knock out smile she always
gave him, he began to walk a little faster,
inwardly laughing at his eagerness to see
her.

How the hell had this happened? Why was
William the Bloody, one of the most feared
vampires to ever crawl from a grave, behaving
like a lovesick teenager?

He'd been asking himself this question for more
than two years, and the answer was always
the same...because of her.

A five foot nothing, ninety pound bundle of
trouble had completely stolen his heart, and
had done it so effortlessly that he hadn't realized
it until it was gone.

No...stolen was the wrong word for it. He
had pretty much given it to her on a gold
plate, all tied up with a nice red ribbon.

Not that she'd wanted it..not at first, any-
way. It was almost funny how much she
HADN'T wanted it, how hard she'd thrown
it back in his face.

On the rare occasions when he felt contem-
plative, he would think back over their tur-
bulent past, embarrassed at how idiotically
he had behaved after he'd fallen in love with
the slayer.

Like a lost puppy, he'd been, following her
around and begging her to keep him. Watching
her everywhere she went, searching through
her things for something with her scent on it,
forcing his company on her when she clearly
didn't want it.

Christ, he'd been pathetic.

But all those things put together didn't
even begin to compare with the stupidest
mistake he'd ever made...having a walking,
talking copy of her built out of plastic and
wire and computer bits.

That little stunt had been so spectacularly
ill conceived that, even now, he tried to make
excuses for it.

He'd been desperate, driven close to the
extreme of running out into the noonday
sun, ready to do anything to stop the con-
stant, relentless ache in his heart that
wouldn't let him sleep.

The robot hadn't been perfect. Visually,
she was a mirror image of Buffy. Same
face, same hair, same voice.

Same luscious body...

Sweet natured and eager to please, she
had satisfied every request...which, of
course, she'd been programmed to do.

He knew now that, sooner or later, the
constant worship the robot had ladled on
with a spoon would have gotten on his
nerves.

A good portion of his attraction to Buffy
had been the "forbidden fruit" factor, the
challenge she'd represented.

The faster she'd run...the more he'd enjoyed
the chase.

Pursuing an unwilling woman was new
for him. Drusilla had been a lot of things,
but unwilling wasn't one of them.

Dru had always been willing and ready. He
had lost his innocence to her in more
ways than one, and she had taught him
things that his repressed, virginal self could
never have dreamed of.

Over the past hundred and change years, he
had used that knowledge to seduce women,
and they'd always come willingly to his bed.

It was a source of pride for him that he'd
never had to resort to raping a woman when
he'd wanted her.

KILLING them, yes. RAPING them, no.

The slayer had been the first woman since
he'd been turned to reject him so completely,
and that rejection had whetted his appetite
for her and aroused his lust for the pursuit.

As always, for him, the thing he could not
have became the ONLY thing he wanted.

Physically, he'd wanted her from the moment
he'd laid eyes on her. Watching her dance
and fight had excited him nearly to the point
of just picking her up and carrying her off to
his bed.

But, after he'd fallen in love with her, that wanting
had taken on a life of it's own, sinking it's
roots so deeply into his heart that he'd never
be free of it.

By the time he'd acquired the robot, his need
for an intimate union with Buffy had become
almost physically painful.

The slayer, however, had made it agonizingly
clear that she would NEVER allow him to
touch her in any way.

She had, in fact, come right out and said
so...."The only chance you had with me was
when I was unconscious..."

But, while the robot had satisfied his physical
needs, she just hadn't been Buffy. Not the Buffy
he really wanted.

The 'bot had Buffy's lovely eyes, but not the
fire and spirit that made them sparkle. Her
skin, although undeniably soft and tinted the
right shade of peachy pink, lacked the warmth
of Buffy's living flesh.

Her silky hair was the right shade of honey and
golden brown, but it hadn't carried the in-
toxicating smell that made him dizzy whenever
he was close to the slayer.

The biggest, most obvious, difference was
that the robot's body...being artificial...held
none of the purely female scent that Buffy's
gave off.

Some things just couldn't be faked.

Still, even though the 'bot hadn't been a per-
fect Buffy, she'd come damn close to it, and
he'd been willing to settle.

He'd had no choice after he began having
trouble performing in bed with a woman unless
he closed his eyes and pretended the body
beneath him was hers.

When his imagination was no longer enough,
he knew that unless he wanted to spend whatever
span of time he had left in a state of constant
sexual frustration, something drastic had to be
done.

And, as it usually did, his 'something drastic'
plan had blown up in his face.

But, those days were over now. Sexual non-
fulfillment was a thing of the past, easily forgotten.

There was no more having to seek solace in
artificial arms, or using his own hand for whatever
meager satisfaction masturbation could provide.

That constant, driving need...a need so strong
and ultimately hopeless that it made him want to
die permanently...was gone, leaving nothing behind
but the normal and healthy desire he felt for the
girl he was in love with.

Buffy was HIS girl now. She belonged to him, as
he belonged to her, and he could have her when-
ever he wanted.

She never denied him. Spike knew that he could
come to her at any time of the day or night,
and she would welcome him into her arms.

He'd tested that theory once by waking her
from a sound sleep in the middle of the night,
explaining to her that an erotic dream he'd been
having had produced a condition that he needed
her help with if he was ever going to be able to
go back to sleep.

She'd made love to him for over an hour.

Just the memory of it now was bringing
on that same condition, and he smiled like
a horny teenage boy sneaking into his first
X-rated movie.

More eager than ever to get his hands on her,
he began walking faster.

He was a little more than halfway through the
park when he spotted her sitting on a bench,
staring intently at something in her lap.

"Hey, there's my girl," he called out to
her. "Couldn't wait for me to...."

His words trailed off as he got closer, wondering
why she hadn't looked up and smiled when she
heard him.

It wasn't until he was standing directly in front
of her that he knew exactly why she hadn't
responded to him. He stared down at her,
horrified by what he saw.

She was asleep!

So completely asleep that she hadn't so much
as twitched when he approached her.

"Damn it," he swore softly, kneeling in front
of her. "Buffy? Baby?" He shook her gently.
"Come on, baby...wake up."

"Hmm?" Confused green eyes opened briefly,
then drifted shut again.

This was his worst nightmare come horribly
true. Buffy, alone and vulnerable to all sorts of
frightening possibilities.

Asleep like this, she'd be an easy target for
whoever...or whatever...came along.

Such a juicy opportunity to kill the slayer didn't
offer itself up everyday. The greenest, most
inept fledgling could snap her neck before she
could open her eyes, then spend the rest of his
existence bragging about killing the best slayer
there ever was.

Thankful that he had been the vampire to
stumble across her first, he gathered her up
into his arms and carried her home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Giles rubbed the sleep from his eyes, then
fumbled his glasses on and tried to focus on
the front door of his townhouse, while someone
on the other side tried to batter it down.

"All right...coming," he muttered under his
breath, working the locks as quickly as his
sleep fogged brain allowed. "Now, for the love of
God, stop that racket before you wake
the..." The door swung open.

"Dead?" Spike finished. "Too late."

"What on...why are you...," the watcher
stammered, still not fully awake as Spike nudged
him to one side and walked into the living room.
"What time is it?"

"It's time to talk, Rupert," Spike replied. "Past
time, actually.

"What, are you SERIOUS?" Giles asked irri-
tably. "Time to talk at..." He squinted at the clock
over the fireplace. "Four o'clock in the blessed
A.M.?"

"That's what I said, isn't it?" Spike's tone was
quiet and serious, with none of the smart ass
quality he excelled at. "This can't wait. Not one
more bloody night."

He was barely managing to hold the leash on his
temper. Only an effort of sheer will power that he'd
spent decades instilling in himself kept him from
resorting to profanity and violence.

After carrying Buffy home without penetrating the
coma like sleep she'd fallen into, he'd taken her
upstairs and put her to bed.

He'd undressed her down to her bra and panties,
scooted her beneath the blankets and kissed her
goodnight...all this without so much as a squeak
out of her...then sat on the bed beside her, watch-
her sleep.



///// ///// ///// ///// ///// ///// ///// ///// ///// /////
He watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest
as she breathed slowly in and out. His eyes
moved over her, tracing every delicate feature,
engraving it into his memory.

Although she was as beautiful as ever in his
eyes, he could see the changes in her.

Her face was a little too thin, her skin a shade
too pale, and there were dark smudges beneath
her eyes. She'd lost weight that her small frame
couldn't spare. All in all, she looked older and
more careworn than a twenty year old girl should.

Spike knew, without being told, exactly what
was wrong, why she looked and acted so tired.

Working long hours at a minimum wage job,
broken nights spent prowling around graveyards
instead of sleeping, not to mention the added
burden of being a surrogate mother to a fifteen
year old girl and trying to provide some semblance
of a normal home life for her, was taking a harsh
physical toll.

He did as much as he could to help, even though
housekeeping skills were not his best event.

But keeping the house clean and the laundry
done wasn't the most serious problem.

Money, or rather the lack of it, was becoming
an issue and Buffy was fretting herself half to
death over it.

He had already sold his car months ago. It was
a classic, and once it was cleaned up and re-
painted, he'd gotten a fairly good price for it.

He could have gotten more, but being unable
to produce a title and registration had limited
his choice of offers.

Buffy hadn't wanted him to sell it. In fact, she'd
asked him not to. It wasn't until the prospect of
expensive plumbing repairs were staring her
in the face that she'd accepted the money.

She had felt guilty about doing it, and it had
taken no small effort on his part to to make her
understand that he didn't care about the stupid
car.

Sure, he'd liked it well enough. But when you
boiled things down to the bare facts, it WAS just
a car. A hunk of steel and glass and motor parts,
designed to take one from Point 'A' to Point 'B'.

In the long run, the car was nothing to him. But
Buffy? Buffy was his life.

His luck at cards had brought in some additional
money, but it couldn't be counted on as a steady
source of income.

Practiced thief though he may once have been,
he knew Buffy wouldn't tolerate him resorting to
illegal methods of obtaining money or merchan-
dise.

There wasn't much else he could do for her, so
she worked double shifts, living mostly on the
greasy food she served up.

Long hours on her feet, lack of proper sleep,
nutrition that was dubious at best, constant
anxiety over money and household repairs,
and Dawn's future. These thing were slowly
eating away at her, killing her wonderful spirit.

It was already affecting her slaying. Tonight's
incident was proof of that.

She had made a bad mistake by falling asleep
in the park, leaving herself wide open and
helpless.

Though nothing had come of it, how long
would it be before she made an even bigger
mistake...a fatal one?

Spike was terribly afraid that it wouldn't be
very long at all.

He knew that if something wasn't done to fix
this mess, he was going to lose her.

Either some creature was going to get hold
of her and kill her when she was too beaten
down to defend herself, or she would simply
drop dead of exhaustion.

Slayer strength or no slayer strength, Buffy
was still human. Her body could only take so
much of the abuse being heaped on it before
it just quit on her.

And there was no way he was going to allow
that to happen. If he had to throw her over
his shoulder and carry her out of this town
kicking and screaming, he would do it without
thinking twice.

He was going to take care of this, one way or
another, and he didn't much care whose neck
he had to step on...or break...to do it.

Turning her small hand over in his, he pressed
a kiss into it's soft palm, smiling when he saw
her automatically close her fingers to hold on
to the kiss.

"Even in your sleep," he said, smoothing back
her hair, "You know I love you."
///// ///// ///// ///// ///// ///// ///// ///// ///// /////



Spike stood in the living room, waiting as Giles
closed his front door.

"All right," the watcher said, folding his arms
across his chest. "Why do we need to talk at
this...inconvenient hour of the morning.?"

"Sorry about that," Spike said sarcastically."I'd
have dropped by in the afternoon, but I'm really
more of a night person."

"Very amusing," Giles replied, sounding any-
thing but amused. "Now will you just get on
with it?"

Lowering himself into a chair, Spike propped
his feet up on the coffee table, ignoring the
watchers scowl.

"How long have you been at the Watcher
game?"

Giles stared at him in disbelief. "You're here at
four in the morning...to ask me THAT?! You
couldn't have waited for a time when civilized
people are up and about?"

Spike shrugged. "I never claimed to be civil-
ized," he said. "Just answer the question."

There was a long pause as Giles decided to
humor the insane vampire and hurry him on
his way. He removed his glasses and rubbed
his eyes. "I began to be trained as a watcher
in my childhood. As was my father, and my
grandmother before him. Now...if that's all
you wanted to know, the..."

"Right," Spike cut him off. "So, it's what...sort
of a family business, is it?"

"I'd hardly refer to it as a business," Giles bristled.

"Then it's just a job?"

"No. No, of course it's not just a job. It's..it's
a calling, not unlike a desire to join the clergy
or..."

"But you get paid for it, don't you?" Spike narrowed
his eyes slightly. "Watcher's council pays you a
salary...right?"

Giles sighed. "Are you anywhere in the neighbor-
hood of a point?"

"Oh, I'm getting there," Spike assured him. "I
just want to be clear on this. You...a watcher...get
paid a salary, right?"

Still hoping that cooperation would rid him of
his uninvited guest, Giles nodded. "Yes, I get
paid a salary. Why do you..."

"Must be a pretty good one, too," Spike interrupted
again. "Places like this," he gestured around the
room, "don't come cheap. And your little magic
shop isn't exactly printing money, is it?"

Giles was silent.

"And, correct me if I'm wrong," Spike continued,
"but didn't you just buy a very expensive new
car?"

"Leased," Giles said shortly.

Spike shrugged. "Even so." He swung his feet
back down to the floor. "Now, here's my point, so
listen up...it doesn't seem quite right that you
watchers get paid a big salary, while the girls
who do the actual slaying...don't."

Giles looked truly surprised, eyebrows raised
and mouth slightly agape.

Spike pressed on. "Maybe, it's time to rethink
this whole Watcher/Slayer dynamic, huh?"

"In...in all my years as a watcher...in all the
journals I've studied...this has never come up,"
Giles stammered, shaking his head. "Why do
you...why are you asking this?"

"Because things change, Watcher," Spike an-
swered curtly. "Circumstances change."

Giles shook his head. "That may be true for you,
but tradition..."

"SCREW TRADITION" Spike shouted. Giles
flinched, and the vampire forced himself to
modify his tone. "Circumstances change," he
said again, "and the rules should change with them."

"What on earth do you mean?"

Spike sighed. "I mean," he said softly, "Buffy
isn't a teenager anymore, with a mother providing
all the basic necessities of life for her."

"I realize that," Giles said. "But I don't understand.."

"Well, if you'd shut up and let me finish," Spike bit
out impatiently, "then maybe you WILL under-
stand."

He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts
and calming his temper.

"Buffy is older now than all the slayers before her,
and the reason she's older is because she's so
damn good at what she does. So good that she
might continue doing it for a long time, right?"

Giles nodded. "I pray that she does, of course.
And the council as well."

Settling back into the cushions, Spike laced
his fingers together and turned his hands out-
wards, making the knuckles crack unpleasantly.

"Well, don't bet the farm on it, Rupert. Because
she doesn't have much time left."

The watcher tensed, replacing his glasses and
meeting Spike's intent gaze with his own. "What
are you saying?" he asked. "Have you heard about
something being planned for her? Has...has there
been a direct threat?"

Spike shook his head. "No."

"Well, then tell me what you mean by that com-
ment!" Giles demanded.

"I mean...that she's coming slowly unglued right
before your stupid eyes." Spike felt the anger
beginning to simmer and his demon struggling to
emerge, and he concentrated on beating it into
submission.

"She's doing too bloody much," he continued
deliberately, as though he were explaining some-
thing to a dull witted child. "She's on her feet for
hours every day at a dead end job, living on fast
food and coffee. And between her slaying and
worrying about earning a living...she's not sleep-
ing properly. She's exhausted."

Giles looked stricken at this revelation. "I didn't
realize that things were so...I mean, she's never
said..."

Spike had no sympathy. "She shouldn't have to
say it. YOU should have seen it, Watcher. Isn't
that part of your job description?" He released a
harsh, unamused laugh. "Watcher? That's
bloody funny, isn't it?" he asked bitterly.

Giles opened his mouth to speak, but Spike
didn't give him a chance. "Oh, you WATCH her
all right...but you don't SEE."

Unable to sit still, he jumped to his feet and
paced restlessly around the room. Stopping
suddenly, he turned on one heel and fixed
his eyes squarely on Giles.

"I have a story to tell you," he said quietly. "And
I want you to play close attention to it."

He approached the sofa where Giles was
sitting, with slow, measured steps. "Once
upon a time..."

"Oh, good God," Giles muttered.

"ONCE UPON A TIME," Spike repeated,
raising his voice. "There was a princess. She
was very beautiful and very brave, and all her
subjects loved her. One day the 'Royal Council',
comprised equally of jackasses and idiots,
came to the castle where the princess lived.
They told her that, out of all the princesses
in the world, she had been chosen to slay
the dragons that preyed on humanity."

"The princess was frightened...uncertain. She
was only one girl, and there were too many
dragons to even begin to count."

"These dragons were bloodthirsty creatures,
that breathed fire, and they absolutely loved to
kill people and eat them all up."


"The princess asked the council what in the
world she could possibly do to stop them.
The council told her not to worry, because they
were going to teach her to everything she needed
to know about dragons and how to kill them."

"So, they trained her to fight, and the princess
discovered that she was very strong and very
fast, maybe more than anyone else in the world."

"Finally, there came a day when the council placed
a sword in her hand, and kicked the princess out
the front door of her castle."

Giles looked as though he was going to speak,
but Spike silenced him with a glare.

"Now, don't worry," the council assured the
princess. "We'll be watching you. We'll watch
every move you make, every battle you fight.
But...before you go, remember this...the fate of
the world depends upon you, and you alone."

"So, the princess set out alone into a dark and
dangerous world. She made some friends along
the way, and they tried to help her but they
could only do so much."

Giles stood up and went into the kitchen. He took
a bottle of aspirin out of the cupboard, then
ran himself a glass of water and swallowed three
of them.

Spike waited until he returned to the sofa and
sat down.

"Over the next few years," he went on, "the princess
killed an army of dragons, some of which nearly
killed HER instead. At one point, she met up with
a dragon that she couldn't manage to kill, no matter
how hard she tried. This dragon was drawn to the
princess, although he didn't understand why."

"Turns out, this particular dragon wasn't really a
dragon at all. He told the princess that a black
haired witch had cast a spell that turned him into
one, and that actually, he was a knight in...well,
not exactly shining armor...and that he was quite
handsome as well."

Giles rolled his eyes. "This is supposed to be you,
I presume."

Spike shrugged his shoulders and smirked. "Now
that you mention it..."

"I wish I hadn't."

"Anyway," Spike went on. "The dragon required a
princess to break the spell he'd been cursed with.
All he needed, you see, was..."

"If you say 'love's first kiss' I shall strike you." Giles
warned.

"Oh, all right," Spike said agreeably."Long story
short...

"Short?!"

...the spell was broken. After that happened, the
princess and the knight..."

"Oh, DO let me guess," Giles cut in sarcastic-
ally. "They go on their way, merrily slaying dra-
gons together, and live happily ever after. Who
would have guessed?" He ignored Spike's thun-
derous frown. "I'm quite sincere, you know. Never
saw it coming."

Spike stared at the watcher in silence for
a few moments, slowly shaking his head. "No,
that's not right."

"Really?" Giles asked. "Fancy that! I thought
all fairy tales ended that way."

Spike's voice dropped into a lower, more threat-
ening tone. "That's the way the story SHOULD
have ended, Rupert. Shall I tell you what really
happened?"

Giles leaned back against the sofa. "I suppose you
will whether I want you to or not."

Resisting the urge to punch the man in the face,
Spike went to the window and pulled back the
curtains. Sunrise wasn't far away.

Without turning around, he said, "The knight loved
the princess more than he'd ever loved anyone
before. He protected her as well as he could,
but he was unable to protect her from...herself."

"The princess, because it was her 'Sacred Duty'
continued to hunt and slay dragons. Night after
night, month after month, year after year. She
fought them and she always won...always."

"Until the night came, when she was so tired...so
worn out from slaying dragons and trying to
provide for her subjects...that she fell into an ex-
hausted sleep near a dragons's lair."

"And while she slept on the forest floor...a dragon
happened upon her without warning...and killed her."

Spike turned from the window and looked at
Giles. "Now...do you see?"

The reality of what Spike was telling him, the
truth behind the story, hit the watcher right
between the eyes.

"When..." He cleared his throat. "When did...did
this happen?"

"Few hours ago," Spike said. "I found her sitting on
a bench in a park that is sometimes crawling
with vampires...asleep. So deeply asleep that a
nuclear bomb could have exploded in front of her
without waking her up."

"Dear, God..."

"Don't you mean THANK God?" Spike asked
harshly. "As in 'thank God Spike found her
before some other vampire sank its fangs into
her?"

Giles' hands were shaking as he clasped them
together. "Yes. Yes, of course. Thank God in-
deed...and thank you as well."

"I don't want you to thank me," Spike snapped,
opening the front door. "I want you to do some-
thing about this, and I want it done soon...before
it's too late."

He was out the door when the watcher's voice
called him back.

"Until this is settled...you'll take care of her?"

Spike scowled, angry that he'd even asked such
a foolish question. As if he'd trust anyone else to
take care of her. "Don't you worry about that," he
said. "Until this is settled, I'm not letting her out
of my sight."

Giles stood up, a little more composed. "I just
need to be sure that she's...."

Spike held up one hand. "I'll take care of Buffy.
That's MY job, now...not yours. You just
concentrate your energy on the idiot brigade and
leave the slayer to me."

He turned to leave, pausing in the doorway.

"You make them do right by her, Watcher," he
said softly. "Because if you don't," he added
through clenched teeth, "I swear to GOD that
I'll take her so far away from this place that
you'll NEVER find her."

Giles stared at the floor. "Threats won't help matters,
Spike."

Highly amused, Spike shook his head. "Oh,
Rupert," he said, "You really don't know me
at all, do you?" Stepping out into the cold, pre-
dawn air, he actually smiled a little. "That wasn't
a threat. THAT...was a promise."



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Literally moments ahead of the sunrise, Spike
climbed the stairs to Buffy's room. He closed
the door quietly, happy to see that she was
still deeply asleep.

After making sure the heavy curtains on the
window were drawn tight, he undressed and
climbed into bed next to her.

Even though he was certain that Hannibal and
his elephants could march through the room
without disturbing her, he moved carefully,
not wanting to jostle her awake.

Laying beside her, propped on one arm, he
studied her sleeping countenance, content
just to look at her.

Her slumber seemed peaceful, her features
relaxed and wiped clean of the worry that was
so much a part of her appearance lately.

Gone was the tension, the grinding anxiety
that plagued her waking hours, leaving behind
the visage of a pretty child who led a carefree
life, and had nothing but whimsical dreams.

He made a silent promise to keep her that way.

Lowering himself to the mattress, he placed
one arm around her protectively, guarding the
precious sleep that allowed her to escape..even
if only temporarily..from a world that had already
hounded her into her grave once.

"You sleep sweet, baby," he whispered. "Sleep
as long as you want to. I'm here now, and I
won't let anything bad happen to you. Nothing
is ever gonna hurt my baby again."

Sensing him there, Buffy turned towards him and
snuggled closer.

"That's right," He tightened his embrace. "Just
rest and get better. I'll slay those dragons for
you...even the human ones."

He closed his eyes and joined her in healing
sleep.

TBC...



Feedback? Do it, baby!

Title: Slaying Dragons
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com





Part Two......
(Five days later)


Buffy flung open the front door with a bang
and pelted upstairs, shouting Spike's
name.

She found him in the bedroom, stretched out
on the bed, paging through her high school
yearbook.

He looked up and saw her standing in the
doorway, out of breath, and clearly excited
about something.

"Someone chasing you?" he asked casually.

"You will NEVER guess what happened
today," she announced, launching herself
across the room and into his arms. "Go
ahead...try. Try and guess. You'll never
be able to."

He closed the book and tossed it aside,
smiling at her bright eyed enthusiasm. It
had been far too long since he'd seen her
like this.

Straddling his thighs, Buffy jumped up
and down gleefully. "Try and guess," she
demanded again.

"But if I'll never be able to guess, then why
don't you just save us a little time and
tell me?" he suggested.

Her smile disappeared. "Try and guess!"
she ordered, scowling.

Although he already had a pretty fair
idea what had happened, she was so
animated that he just had to play along.

"Hmm...Doublemeat Palace burned to the
ground?" he ventured.

Her grin returned as she shook her head. "No,
it's something good."

"That IS something good."

"Something better."

He placed his hands on her waist, scooting
her up into his lap. "Victoria's Secret catalog
finally came?"

Buffy sighed, punching his shoulder
lightly. "Do you think of nothing else?"

"Occasionally," he replied, giving her
hips an affectionate squeeze, "but not
often."

"One more guess," she warned him, swat-
ting his hand away when it tried to sneak
under her shirt.

"Big shoe sale at the mall?"

"No!" She waved an envelope under his
nose. "It's this!"

The envelope had been opened, and he
could see the foreign postage on it. Taking
it from her, he pulled its shredded edges
apart and looked inside. "A check?"

"Yes!" Buffy nodded. "THAT is a check. A
PAYCHECK. Made out to me!"

"Mm-hmm." Spike saw the amount and
manufactured a surprised look. "When
did you get a raise?"

"Ah-HAH!" She took the envelope back
and extracted the check, displaying it for
him. "I didn't. THIS is from the...brace your-
self...Watcher's Council!"

Now, he had to look even more surprised.

"They're paying you now?"

"Yep!"

"How come?"

"Giles." She shook her head and examined
the check again. "I guess he bullied them into
it or something," she explained. "He was wor-
ried, on account of I'm so tired all the time."

Spike smoothed her hair back. "I know how he
feels," he said quietly.

He assumed from what she was saying that
Giles hadn't mentioned the pre-dawn discussion
they'd had. Since he didn't care who got the
credit for it, as long as HE got the results he
wanted, he was happy to let her believe that it
was her watcher that had lit this particular fire
beneath the Council's collective asses.

"He told them that he was afraid that my slaying
might start to be affected," she went on. "You
know, that I might get sloppy and....well, dead."

"Well, good on Giles, then" Spike said. "Now
you can go in tomorrow and tell them where
they can stick their sodding job."

Buffy laughed. "I stopped on the way home and
did just that!"

"I'm glad, baby." He pulled her closer and kissed
her.

"Just think," she said happily. "No more smelling
like a vat of greasy french fries."

"No more burning your little fingers on the grill,"
he added, kissing her fingertips.

"No more sore cheeks from having to smile for
twelve hours."

He kissed both cheeks. "No more slave wages."

"No more getting hit on by horny customers."

"No more...EXCUSE ME?!" He had been reclining
back against the headboard, but her words jack-
knifed him into a sitting position. "When the hell
did THAT happen, and WHY the hell didn't you
tell me about it?"

"Because I knew you'd react this way," she
said. "You'd come down there to defend my honor
and I'd get fired because my boyfriend was beating
up on the customers, not to mention your head
would probably explode." She draped her arms
loosely around his neck. "Forget about it. It doesn't
matter anymore."

"It matters to ME!" He grabbed her left hand and
shook it. "Doesn't anyone pay attention to a ring
anymore? Does tradition mean NOTHING to
you humans?"

Buffy shook her head. "Actually...don't get mad..I
didn't wear it at work. I was afraid something would
happen to it," she added quickly. "It was your mother's
ring and...I didn't want the diamond to get all greasy,
so I...wore it on a chain inside my uniform."

"Oh, wonderful," he grumbled. "Now I have to hang
a damn sign around your neck."

She grinned. "Like a 'Keep off the Grass' sort of
thing?"

"Something like that, yeah! Only more...permanent!"

"You mean like having 'Property of Spike' tattooed
on my ass?"

"I COULD do that." He gave her a speculative look,
as though he was actually considering it. "But unless
you're planning to drop your pants every time some
stupid bastard hits on you...stop laughing...it isn't
funny!"

"Oh, but it is," she teased him. "It really is! Poss-
essive much?"

"MUCH!" he said loudly, pulling her closer. "You
are taken!"

"Yes. I am," she said agreeably. "Every night and
twice on Sundays."

Spike was having difficulty maintaining a
scowl in the face of such wonderfully light
hearted behavior. "Smart ass," he said fondly,
giving her a swat on the behind. "Now I'm even
happier that than I was before about you quitting
that hellhole."

"Why's that, handsome?"

He shrugged. "I'd rather have you kicking demon
ass full time," he said. "Least I didn't have to
worry about THOSE customers trying to get
into your knickers."

"Oh, baby," she said soothingly. "You know
there's only one demon I let into my knickers."

She wriggled on his lap, causing an instant
and strong reaction beneath his pants.

"That's my girl," he purred, lifting his hips to
increase the pressure. "Any chance you'll let
him in right now?"

She pretended to consider the request. "I
might...if I can get into his knickers, too."

Spike took her hand and placed it on his
belt buckle. "He doesn't wear 'em," he whis-
pered, nuzzling her ear. "But you're welcome
to see for yourself."

"Don't mind if I do."

***************************************


"Do you have ANY idea how good that
feels?" Buffy groaned.

"Oh, I think I do."

"Mmm...more baby...right there. Ahh...that's
the spot...harder...mmm, yeah...God, you're
good...."

They knelt together in the middle of the bed,
her back to his front as his skilled hands
massaged her shoulders, ridding her of any
last remnant of tension.

She sighed deeply as his hands slid down
her arms and found hers. He lifted them,
and placed her arms around his neck. His
palms glided down her sides, coaxing a giggle
from her when his fingers danced over her
rib cage before meeting at her lower abdomen
and lacing together.

Buffy's head dropped back, exposing the tender
flesh of her throat. The trust implicit in this
gesture never failed to thrill him.

He nuzzled her warm skin, kissing the visible
throb of her pulse as her blood began to race
a little faster, run a little hotter.

"I love you," he murmured, tasting her skin,
wetting it with his tongue. "Love you so much."

She turned her head to look in his eyes. "How
much?" she asked, her voice husky with the
passion she couldn't control when he touched
her.

"More than anything...more than anyone," he
said, tightening his arms around her waist, "in
my entire existence. There's no one but you,
luv, there never will be again."

Buffy slipped one hand down to touch his
cheek, and he turned his head and pressed
a slow, hot kiss into her palm, smiling when
her fingers curled inward, holding on to the
kiss.

Spike's hands separated and began moving
back up her torso, tracing the flare of her
hips and the inward curve of her waist, mar-
veling at how small and delicately she was
made.

Her bare skin felt hot and moist, glistening
with a light sheen of perspiration drawn
out by her arousal.

He continued exploring, pleased to hear
her breathing escalate when his hands
found the under curves of her breasts.

Cupping his palms beneath them, he lifted
them slightly and pressed them together.

"Feel good, Princess?" he asked, knowing the
answer already.

"Princess?" She looked at him. "That's new."

"You don't like it?"

"I like it fine," she assured him. "I like all the sweet
things you call me."

Well, you ARE my princess," he said, fondling her
soft flesh. "My bright little warrior princess. Strong
and soft all at the same time."

Buffy sighed. "You make me feel so loved," she
said, closing her eyes and leaning back against
him.

Spike smiled against her skin. "You ARE loved."

"No, it's more than that," she said, shaking her
head a little. "You make me feel...cherished.
Safe...and protected."

For a moment, he felt his non-working heart
swell to vast proportions. "Really?"

"Mm-hmm," she nodded. "And I need to feel that
way sometimes...even if I am the slayer."

He turned her in his arms. "I promise you...I
will always cherish you...and protect you...and
take care of you. You're my life, baby...my whole
world."

Buffy took his face in her hands and looked
him right in the eye. "I love you, too. And
you're MY whole world...my man..." Sliding
one hand behind his neck, she tangled her
fingers in his hair. "Now, make love to me,"
she demanded. "Do it...long...and hard...and
don't stop till I beg you to."

His belt had already been unbuckled and
removed, so he reached down and popped
the snap on his jeans. "Here's something
long and hard, babe," he said, giving her
the smile he knew made her instantly wet.

She licked her lips as he took her hand
and guided it down between his legs. Taking
the zipper tab between two fingers, she pulled
it down slowly, purposely teasing him.

Spike clenched his teeth when he felt the
warmth of her small fingers on his erection.
He started to push his jeans down, irritated
when he had to pull away from her and stand
to yank them off.

Buffy reclined back on the pillows. "Slow down,"
she ordered him. "I'm enjoying this."

He stopped and glanced at her. Uh-huh. Baby
wants to play.

But he did as she asked, stopping his rush
to total nudity and waiting for her instructions.

"Unbutton your shirt, first," she requested. "Hey,"
she added when he gave her a look. "You took
mine off, it's only fair."

He rolled his eyes as he moved to comply.

Buffy leaned over and grabbed a pillow,
covering herself with it. "I don't want to
distract you," she explained when he pro-
tested. "Come on, baby...take it off."

With an immense effort of will, he undid
each and every button, then allowed the
deep blue fabric to slide over his shoulders
and down his arms, dropping to the floor.

"I work better with a blue light," he said,
winking at her.

"Sorry, baby. Fresh out." she replied. "Now,
pull down your jeans....slowly. Show me what
you've got for me."

"Honestly," he griped, pushing on the tight
denim, "sometimes I feel like I'm just an ob-
ject to you. I'm not just a piece of meat, you
know."

Buffy's smile widened. "Oh, I know that,
honey. You're definitely more than a piece
of meat. But I gotta tell ya...that's a pretty
tasty cut of beef you're sporting"

He kicked the jeans away, and placed one
knee on the bed. "You sound like a hungry
little girl."

"Well...now that you mention it," she shook
her hair forward and peeked at him through
her bangs. "I haven't eaten in hours."

Spike licked his lips as he crawled up the
bed towards her. With one knee on either
side of her, he thrust his pelvis forward.

"Eat this," he said, placing his hands on
her head and drawing her closer.

Buffy moistened her lips with her tongue,
lightly allowing it to flick against the head
of his shaft, making him gasp. She grinned
up at him, then continued to tease him with
quick licks and kisses.

When he was at the point of grabbing her
hair and forcing himself in, she opened her
mouth and he slipped his cock in, grunting
slightly at the feel of her tongue and teeth.

Her hands moved around him, gripping the
firm cheeks of his ass and urging him into a
shallow thrusting motion.

Spike had to release her head and grab
onto the headboard of the bed to keep from
falling over. "Oh, God, baby...yes...that's
my girl...my sweet little girl...use your tongue,
luv...ahh...fuck...you've got a....a beautiful
mouth...."

He looked down, watching as his shaft slid
in and out of her mouth, feeling it become
wet and shiny with her saliva.

When he pulled away from her, she looked up
at him. "What? Did I hurt you?" she asked.

He chuckled. "If that's pain, where do I sign
up for torture?" He took his cock in his hand
and rubbed it against her cheek. "I just wanted
to touch you with it...your skin is so fucking
soft...I want to rub my cock all over it."

His words caused naughty thoughts to
dance merrily through her mind. Pulling
back she raised her face and let him rub his
cock all over her face. She fluttered her eye-
lashes on it, making him hiss, then draped
her hair over it, dragging the honey clored
tresses over his skin.

But Spike wanted something more. Moving
her into a comfortable position, he lowered
himself until his cock was lying in the hollow
between her breasts.

"Push them together, baby," he directed, and
when she did as he asked, he began sliding
back and forth.

She looked down and watched as the head of
his cock appeared and disappeared. This
was driving her crazy. Spike was endlessly in-
ventive when it came to sex, and he knew how
to do things she'd only ever read about in the
Cosmopolitan magazines she'd found in the
bottom of her mothers knitting basket.

Spike closed his eyes, concentrating on the
sensation of Buffy's warm breasts pillowing
his cock. He pumped his hips rhythmically,
back and forward, semen oozing from him,
making it slide smoothly up and down.

Feeling the approach of orgasm, he tried
to stop, but she held on to him. "It's all
right," she whispered. "Go ahead, baby. I
know you want to."

"Christ, I love you," he gritted out through
his clenched teeth. Five more thrusts be-
tween her breasts and he was ejaculating
a stream of fluid onto her, nearly screaming
when she took hold of him and rubbed the
tip of his cock against one hard nipple.

When he finally opened his eyes and looked
down at her, she gave him a cheeky smile.
"You're panting," she informed him.

"Yeah, I know...I don't know why," he ad-
mitted.

She giggled. "Don't care why," she replied, as
she wiped her breasts with a corner of the
sheet. "It's sexy."

"Uh...yeah! That's it...that's why I do it." He
laughed. "Just for you, babe."

"I thought I was Princess," she reminded him.

He nodded. "Just for you, Princess."

He fell onto his back, and she immediately
clambered over him. "Do you know," she asked,
"one of the things I love most about
you?"

He shrugged. "My good looks and charm?"

"Well, there IS that, but that's not what I meant."

"Enlighten me, Pussycat," he said, sliding
his arms behind his head.

"I love the fact that once you get hard...you stay
that way for a long time...even after you come."

He grinned. "Ah, yes. The everlasting erection.
Drives the ladies wild."

"Watch it, pal," she warned him. "I'm the only lady
you're going to be driving wild."

Spike laughed. "You're not a lady...you're a wild-
cat."

"I am?" she asked, pleased.

He nodded. "Hell, yes....I've never been
with such a little animal."

She tried out a snarl, then grinned. "I AM
kind of an animal, aren't I?"

"I've got the bite marks to prove it."

Without warning, Buffy pounced on him,
straddling his upper chest.

He sent one finger to the apex of her
sex. "Want me to eat it?" he asked.

She nodded. "Uh-huh."

"All right, then." He flipped her over. "But
first..."

Dipping his head, he captured her mouth
beneath his, sliding his tongue in and
finding hers, then licking and biting at
her lips.

She pushed him away a little. "Where's
my vampire?" she asked.

He produced it, exposing his fangs for
her and growling.

Buffy placed her hands on his cheeks,
rubbing her thumbs over the ridges and
sliding her fingers into his hair.

"God, you're beautiful," she whispered, draw-
ing his mouth down to hers.

He watched with golden eyes as she licked
her tongue over his lips, then slipped it into
his mouth when he opened it.

Buffy purposely nicked her tongue on
one fang, letting him taste the drops of
blood that trickled from it.

Spike's entire body shivered with the
pleasure and the power he drew from hers.
Coaxing her tongue into his mouth, he
sucked on it hard, swallowing the ambrosia
of a slayers blood heated with passion.

When he released her mouth, he pressed
his face against the side of her neck, leash-
ing the demon again, then looked at her
with a dark blue gaze as she stroked his
smooth skin

Spike blazed a trail down her damp skin,
licking and kissing her breasts, tasting the
combined flavors of perspiration and the
faint salt of his ejaculate.

She threaded her fingers into his hair again,
mussing it the way she liked, guiding him
where she wanted him to go, not allowing him
to move on until she was ready.

He was happy to stay as long as she desired
it, happy to make her body vibrate and hum
with pleasure.

But while his mouth continued to worship her
breasts, one hand moved down and pushed
her legs apart.

Buffy was already so wet that his fingers
slid through the light brown curls easily,
quickly finding the sweet spot.

Placing his middle finger on the untra-sensative
knot of flesh, he began to move it up and down,
then in small circles. Encouraged by the soft
cries and moans coming from her, he finally
moved his mouth from her breasts after a last
hard suck on each nipple, then licked his way
down between her thighs to her pussy.

When she felt the light touch of his tongue,
she planted her feet flat on the bed and thrust
her hips upwards, demanding that he be more
forceful...less "ask" and more "take".

With one hand wrapped around the brass arch
of the headboard, she grabbed the back of his
head with the other, making him handle her
roughly.

Literally dizzy from the scent of her arousal,
he gave her what she was begging for. Placing
his hands beneath her bottom, he lifted it higher.

Gripping the firm muscle of her rear, he shoved
his tongue up into her as deeply as he could
force it to go.

Buffy threw back her head and screamed
like the wildcat he'd called her, unable to
hold it in, unwilling to even try.

>From his vantage point between her legs, he
looked up at her. He loved watching her reaction
when he licked her pussy, almost as much as he
loved doing it.

It was a rush of power unlike any other he'd
ever experienced.

Even the thrill he'd once felt when he hunted,
and the arrogant satisfaction that had washed
over him at a kill, was nothing compared to
what he felt everytime he reduced this beau-
tiful and strong willed slayer into a writhing,
panting sex kitten that begged him not to
stop.

And this feeling in him was only made more
intense by the knowledge that she wielded
the same power over him.

HIM! A master vampire, who for over a
hundred years had taken what he'd wanted,
when he'd wanted it, brought to his knees
by this girl.

Brought to his knees, and willing to stay
on them forever, thanking any and all
deitys that had gotten him there.

And...speaking of going to ones knees...

The image popped into his head with no
warning. Never one to believe in delayed
gratification, he sat back on his haunches,
then grabbed her hips and pulled them
towards him.

Realizing his intent, she stopped complaining
and distributed her weight equally to her
hands and knees, her bottom wriggling
with anticipation.

He paused to admire the new view she was
giving him. "Has anyone told you that you have
an absolutely spectacular ass?" he asked. "Be-
cause I've never seen a prettier one."

"Uh-huh," she said, turning her head to look at
him, smiling like a cream filled kitten. "My boy-
friend likes it too."

He slid one hand into her hair and took a hand-
ful of it, pulling on it roughtly, forcing her to
raise her head. "Oh, you have a boyfriend, do
you?"

She moved her hips enticingly. "That's right."

He gave her bottom a light slap. "Then what are
you doing here with me?"

"Umm...being naughty?"

He slapped her ass again, a little harder
this time, hard enough to leave a red
imprint of his hand.

"OUCH!" she yelped, then looked back
over her shoulder at him. "Let's not get
carried away back there!"

Spike laughed. "Sorry, Princess."

"I should think you would be," she muttered, laying
her cheek against the pillow. "I don't think I've
been THAT bad, and you...YIKES!"

Spike's fingers dug into her hips as he thrust
himself in completely, then quickly established
a hard and fast rhythm, pumping in and out of
her with strokes that were almost brutally forceful.

But he had no fear that he might be hurting her. An
ordinary girl might not be able to take such man-
handling, but she was far from ordinary.

Her body had been made to take his.

The knowledge that they were alone in the house
released them, and they made wild, noisy love to
each other.

He teased her by stopping his thrusts when
he felt her approaching climax. He did this
over and over, until she grew impatient and
warned him that if he did it one more time,
she would finish by herself and force him
to do the same.

Not wanting to be ejected from her warmth
and tightness, he fell forward and propped
himself up on his outstretched arms, apolo-
gizing lavishly as he lowered himself down
until she was flat on the bed.

When their bodies were in total contact,
he began whispering in her ear, his words
providing the last bit of stimulation she
needed to send her over the edge,
screaming his name.

"Come on, baby," he said softly. "Do it for
me...make it tight...tighter...that's the way..so
good...so hot and wet...ahh...sweet little
pussy is so bloody...TIGHT!"

Buffy was almost incapable of speech. "Spike...
yes...yes...unh...unh...fuck me...harder."

Spike redoubled his efforts, pounding into
her like a machine, fucking her hard, doing
it for her.

"You ready, babe?" he asked her suddenly.
"Wanna come? Wanna do it now..now..now!"

Each repitition of the word "now" became
gradually louder, as he timed the pace of his
thrusts with them.

"Yes..." she whimpered. "Ready baby.
Make me come..pleasepleaseplease..oh
yes...ahhh...YES...YES...YESSS!!"

With an animalistic roar, he increased his
already meteoric speed and exploded in-
side her, filling her up with everything he
had to give her, until it was overflowing and
trickling down her thighs

Burying his face in her hair, he thrust weakly
a few more times, then went perfectly still.

Mere moments later, he began to harden in-
side of her.

She looked back over her shoulder. "Again?"
she panted.

"Mmmm..yeah. And again...and again and.....


***********************************************


"You okay," she asked.

"Uh-huh...you?"

"I'm thirsty."

"Want me to get you something?" he
offered, opening his eyes.

Buffy smiled sweetly. "Would you?"

"No sooner said.." Rolling out of bed, he
located his jeans and pulled them on.

She pouted. "Whatcha doing THAT for?"

Spike pulled the zipper up, but ignored the
top snap. "Little Bit might come in while
I'm down there," he explained. "Don't want to
traumatize the child."

He leaned over and kissed her. "What would
you like to drink, babe?"

"There's ice tea in the fridge," she said,
smiling lazily.

"Be right back."

"Oh, by the way..." She halted his de-
parture in the doorway. "Thank you."

He gave her a quizzical look. "For what?"

She slid down in bed, stretching. "Thank you
for talking to Giles."

"Oh, you're wel..." He stopped. "You knew? How
did you know?"

"Giles told me," she said, producing a sultry
smile. "And when you get back...I'm gonna
thank you allll over again."

The look in her eyes made him shudder
with anticipation at her promise. "I'll run."

"You should."

Halfway down the stairs, a slow smile began
tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"There's definitely something to be said
for taking credit."



The End.

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