Author’s Note Thank you to everyone who has responded with feedback on my fics. I really do appreciate it. And if you've left a review, I WILL be responding. This week has been really busy and I will do it this weekend when things are a little quieter. But until I do, just know that I appreciate it.



Chapter 4



Trying to find distance from the source of his turbelent emotions, Spike had retreated to the verandah at the back of his house. But he was leaning against the railing so that he was facing his bedroom. From there he could gaze upon Buffy sleeping soundly in the middle of his bed. She was still wearing the corset and stockings from her wedding attire. Somehow neither of them ever got around to removing them while they shagged and after the last time she fell promptly asleep.

Sleep was an elusive being for him that night. His thoughts were tangled around emotions that he was unable to explain. So, he stood on outside in the chill of the night while he held either his second or third cigarette since he’d left her side. He inhaled the last bit of nicotine deep into his lungs then flicked the butt out into the sand. The burn felt good, almost as good as the sex they’d been indulging in all night. His body was humming from the pleasure it had received. Something it had almost forgotten about in the last few years.

Celibacy was his chosen lifestyle. There were a few attempts at sharing his bed in the years since the time spent in Los Angeles. All beautiful, passionate creatures that easily succumbed to his looks and charms. There was even another Slayer. One of Buffy’s girls who wanted to experiment with the dark side. She bored him with her hero worship and was quickly sent on her way. The rest of them were unable to handle who he was and none that he could unleash his demon side on. All human, all weak, not at all like his Slayer. Even broken she was more woman than they would ever be. This night with her had made up for every moment he’d spent alone.

Spike studied the woman in his bed. He knew why he was where he was at the moment. The reason why he’d gone to take back what was his. But he still wondered why she was with him? What had happened to her during the last few years? What had happened to bring her to this state? The day he sacrificed his life for her in the cave he’d seen the power in her eyes. The hope flaring in those emerald depths that was as bright as the flame that took him. She should have been happy. Taking the world by the tail and living life the way she wanted.

It certainly couldn’t have anything to do with him. She moved on after his death and even after his resurrection. She was dating the Immortal then the boy at the altar. She helped Giles rebuild the Council and became a momma hen to all the new Slayers. When had things changed? What catastrophe occurred to bring her to her knees? He almost wanted to call them and ask? But that would only lead to more fighting which was something neither of them wanted.

Needing answers, Spike wandered back to the bed, sitting on the side rather than crawling in beside her. He was impatient to have her attention again. There were too many questions that he didn’t have answers for, but she could provide him with everything he wanted to know. He just needed to ask her and like a child he pulled the comforter away from her legs to see if she would wake up.

“Spike, I’m cold,” Buffy mumbled without opening her eyes. She fumbled to find the covers that he kept out of her reach. In uncovering her, he remembered she was still partially dressed in clothes that had to have been binding her.

“Just a minute, pet,” Spike said, pulling her stockings down her legs. They were dropped over the side of the bed without a second thought. He covered her legs back up then pulled the comforter away form her torso. This time her eyes fluttered open. “Trying to make you more comfortable.” He kissed the curve of her hip letting his lips drift across her bottom before he undid the ties to her corset. She sighed in obvious relief when he peeled it away. Indentions burned bright pink against her flesh from where it had pinched her. “Do you feel better now?” He asked, sitting next to her again.

“Yes,” Buffy said, rolling onto her back. “I feel like I can breathe now.”

His fingers traced the horizontal patterns along her ribs then her abdomem. She inhaled when he tickled the spot just below her breasts. He glanced up at her but he didn’t stop the path his fingers were making. It was amazing what women would do to be beautiful, but then he’d enjoyed Buffy in the purely feminine garb.

But there was a price payed for that enjoyment. At least that price was temporary. The marks would fade in a little while leaving no reminder of where they’d been. Her skin would return to the creaminess that it always was. He noticed that her breasts hung a little looser now. They were still beautiful though and he cupped one. Squeezing the softness, watching the way her body grew restless under his ministrations. The nipple pebbled beneath his palm begging for his attention. He rolled the nub between index finger and thumb. He was entranced by the reactions she gave to him.

“How many, Buffy?” He asked out of the blue, not even realizing he was going to ask until the words tumbled from his mouth.

“How many what?”

Her face scrunched up. She knew what he was asking for but she was going to make him beg for it. Force him to draw blood from them both. It would be better to let it drop. Her spreading her legs for anyone else only made him want to kill. To demand retribution from her. It wasn’t his place though. Not yet.

“How many have you shagged since me?”

“Does it really matter?” She asked, raising her arms above her head. His eyes flickered upwards to find that she knew what she was doing. Letting herself be submissive for him. He shook his head. It was time for truth. Not forgetting.

“To me it does.”

Buffy shoved his hand away and sat up. Annoyance flashed across her face. “Two…the Immortal and…him.”

“The boy?”

She nodded.

“Doesn’t he have a name?” Spike laughed, wondering why she refused to name him.

“Yes, he does,” Buffy said. She pulled the covers over her nakedness. Her head turned away. “I…I don’t want to tell you.”

“Is he the reason you have no spirit left?”

Anger was stirring in him. It was there on her face. The harmless boy that stood beside her at the altar was the one who had broken her. Spike knew he wasn’t a demon or a mystical being of any kind. He cocked his head to study the woman before him. Tears were running down her face. He cupped her cheek forcing her to face him.

“What happened, Buffy?”

“Make love to me,” she pleaded, drawing her hand down his leg. “Just forget it, please.”

Enough was enough. This time it would be different. He would no longer be her whipping boy, charmed into not asking questions or for anything, just so he could have the pleasure of her body. His hand went to her throat, shoving her against the headboard. She struggled, gasping for air. Her hands grabbed his wrists trying to pull him away. It was only when she was on the verge of passing out that he relented. She fell to the side, holding her throat, and raggedly drawing in needed air.

“Are you going to tell me now?”

His voice and demeanor were calm but inside he was raging. Buffy was his. No one accepted that fact and everyone tried to take her away from him. But yet they wanted her with a monster of some sort that had taken away her very soul. The boy was accepted because he was human. It made no sense to him. He was tired of playing by their rules.

“I can’t,” Buffy said. “You don’t…you wouldn’t understand.”

He grabbed her by her hair and pulling her up so that she was forced to face him. She was sobbing by now. Her body hiccupped with the force of them. A part of him only wanted to coddle her. And another wanted to beat her until she understood that he was her master. His actions didn’t make sense because he didn’t want her fear, he wanted her respect. Yet, he couldn’t stop the demon, didn’t want to stop the demon from taking control.

“Tell me anyway,” Spike growled. “If you are going to be with me then I need to know the truth of everything. What did he do to you?”

“He loved me,” Buffy gasped. “He loved me and I was so fucking lonely. I believed him. I believed it all. Oh, god, everything and everyone was gone. I didn’t want to wake up alone anymore or sleep alone.” She struck his chest with her open hand. “Damn you for making me feel again. Damn you for leaving me. I hate you,” she screamed. “Do you hear me? I hate you for ever loving me. You made me crave something I could never be. And I had to tear my soul out just so somebody would want to be with me. No normal man could handle me so I lost me so I wouldn’t be alone.”

He released her in disbelief. Watched as she tried to run in panic, but there was no where for her to go. The only clothing available was the dress on the floor. Besides, she had no idea of where she was. She was trapped and she knew it. She moaned deep in her throat, wrapped the comforter around her, only to trip on it and fall to the floor. She lay there weeping. Her heart shattered for something that only he could give her and he’d taken it away from her.

Spike scooped her up and returned her to his bed. He wrapped his arms, tight around her.

“Shush, pet, it’s going to be all right,” Spike whispered, kissing her shoulder. “You’re with me now. You’re safe.”

Was it all right? He knew it wasn’t. Buffy had been trained well. By every man she ever loved. Her father who thought women were disposable, by Angel who only wanted her when she was a little girl and dumped her when she wanted womanly things. By Parker who taught her not to trust her own feelings. By Riley who taught her that she was too strong, and by him who taught her that loving her was conditional. On whether or not he felt the time was right. And they all taught her how to say good-bye.

She was trained to become what the man wanted her to be and maybe he’d stick around. The boy had done well. She denied her true self and she was rewarded with a wedding.

Spike hugged her tight, whispering words of love to her. Making promises of forever. But he wondered if he loved her enough to make her whole again, patient enough to see it through, and strong enough to do what needed to be done.


to be continued…

Chapter 5



There was only a sliver of light peeking out from between the drapes to interrupt the darkness that surrounded her in its velvet chill . Buffy blinked a few times to break the seductive spell of sleep still beckoning to her. Sweet, blissful, darkness that yielded no guilt, no responsiblities, no pain from the life she’d found herself in since she was fifteen. Then she smiled when she remembered where she was and who she was with. Life was going to be different now, Spike changed everything when he rescued her.

Yawning, she stretched, pressing her hands against the headboard and pointing her toes until her body felt some relief by the motion. Yet a declicious ache still lingered in her limbs. Today she would pay for the unbridled passion of the night before. The strength of the vampire she coupled with left her not only sore but with an unaccustomed tenderness between her legs.

No human could ever use her body like Spike could, she thought with a smile. And they certainly couldn’t give her the multitude of orgasms that he did. She had definitely missed fucking him. Yet now she was free to admit that it was so much more than that. She’d missed him, all of him, not just the sex. It was also the feeling of security he gave her. The love he showered on her.

Sitting up, she felt a twinge on her neck and her hand instinctively went to it. Her fingers drifted over the tender bruises Spike had left on her throat. A small nudge of concern over his violence passed through her mind, but she pushed it aside. Spike wouldn’t really hurt her. He loved her and always protected her, standing right beside her through every battle no matter what the personal cost to himself.

Yes, inside of her a small voice asked:

So, why hadn’t he called in all those years that passed?

Why did he let her think he was dead…again?

Why did he wait until her wedding day to see her?

To claim her?

Buffy shook her head, refusing to dwell on the doubts trying to gain her attention. Surely there were good reasons. Everything would be explained away in that way of his that left her feeling safe again. Less than a day had passed since they were reunited. She just needed to be patient. There was all the time in the world for them to really get to know each other. The only important thing was that they were finally together again. This time it would be for good.

Reaching over, Buffy turned the bedside lamp on. She glanced around wondering what she would wear. Her wedding dress was nowhere in sight but she was delighted to spot her suitcases just inside the bedroom door. Spike was going to take care of her. He was considerate enough to grab her cases from the church so she would have something to wear. All she needed to do was love him like he needed. Like he loved her and everything between them would be fine.

She searched through the smaller case to find the red silk robe she bought to wear on her honeymoon. Her fiancé hated her in red. Why hadn’t she realized before that she would have been miserable married to him? And she would have made him even more miserable. Her life would have been reduced to small rebellions just to get back at the boy who loved her because she couldn’t reciprocate his feelings. It would have been the worst mistake of her life.

It was so clear now that her heart belonged to only one. Spike. Oh, she would have tried to love the boy she was going to marry. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have made wedding plans. She wanted to love him but she knew now that she never would have. No matter how hard she would have tried. Spike arriving at the church was the clearest indicator of where her destiny lay.

“There you are,” Buffy exclaimed in victory when she found the robe. After slipping it on, she stepped out of the bedroom. The rich smell of coffee reached her, enticing her toward the kitchen. She hesitated for only a second in the doorway when she spotted Spike beating eggs in a bowl. Then she smiled as she made her way to him and wrapped her arms around him.

“Making breakfast?” Buffy asked, kissing the back of his neck before peeking over his shoulder.

“Thought you might be hungry, Luv,” Spike replied.

He pulled her around him so that he could give her a quick kiss good morning. It wasn’t enough for her. She wanted more of him, the slow tangling of tongues that warmed her entire body. She reached for him but he was already turning away. Trying to hide her disappointment, Buffy reached for a mug in the drainer by the sink.

“Okay, if I get some coffee?” Buffy asked, suddenly feeling awkward. Spike had told her several times that it was her place, but she didn’t feel it yet. It wasn’t home. Until she was here for a few days, had moved her things in, it wouldn’t.

Spike turned around to look at her, his eyebrow raised in slight surprise. “Of course,” he replied before returning to cooking the eggs.

There wasn’t much affection in his voice but it was early yet. Their relationship hadn’t included many morning afters so she had nothing to compare his mood to. Deciding not to let it bother her, she shrugged her shoulders, and poured the coffee she was craving so desperately. After adding a generous amount of sugar and milk she took a seat on a barstool across from him.

She watched him for a moment, letting herself return to dwelling on why he seemed so distant this morning. Shouldn’t they be celebrating? Be all cuddly? It was like their honeymoon after all. They were finally together.

In a return of insecurites, her finger absently traced the corner of her eye. It was where in the last year a few wrinkles had developed. Her body wasn’t the same one he once touched with such abandon. She was heavier, softer than when she was a teenager.

Yet, Spike hadn’t changed in all their years apart. He was still as beautiful and youthful as ever. She was growing older. He wouldn’t. So, many differences between them. Sacrifices they would have to make to survive together. The biggest being that there would be no children for them. She waited for her heart to ache at the knowledge, but it didn’t.

She took a sip of her coffee, trying to dispel the newest round of her doubts in their relationship. Her sudden flight with him hadn’t given her any time to think about the consequences. Her heart had firmly been in control when she let Spike take her away.

Here was where her dreams took her to every night. A day hadn’t passed that she hadn’t thought of this vampire and all the things she thought they’d lost. Here she was loved, worshiped even. Nothing else mattered. No one else out there had ever come close to making her feel like Spike did. All the sacrifices would be worth it.

“Thank you for bringing my bags in,” Buffy offered, staring at him over the rim of her coffee cup.

“You’re welcome,” Spike said, reaching for a plate. He spooned some eggs onto it, along with some bacon and a couple of pieces of toast before placing it on the counter in front of her.

“Thanks,” Buffy said. She took the fork he offered, taking a big bite of the steaming, scrambled eggs. “These are really good. Didn’t know you could cook.”

“Yep, one of the many things you don’t know about me,” Spike said, putting the fry pan in the sink.

For a few minutes she watched him clean up while she ate her breakfast. She couldn’t remember the last time she ate a full meal. Before her wedding she’d been too nervous to even try. It felt good to be sitting here, in Spike’s house, being all domestic. Some of the tension seemed to drain from her body.

Thinking aloud she absently said, “Sometime I’m going to need to arrange to have my things moved down here.” Actually it was one of the many arrangements that would have to be made if she was staying here in Mexico. Some of her things had been moved into her fiancé’s apartment while the rest had been put into storage. All of it would have to be sent to her to go through. Her car would have to be sold or shipped to her. And she would need to speak with Giles about her position with the Council. Not noticing Spike’s silence, she continued, “I’ll need to call Dawn today, too.”

“No,” Spike said. “I’ve taken your cell phone and wallet. They’ve been put away.” He gestured toward her food that was now going uneaten. “Finish up before it gets cold.”

Buffy could only stare at him in disbelief. He just told her that she couldn’t contact her sister and that basically she was his prisoner. Without a way to communicate and without her wallet, she was stranded. She turned toward the door as she remembered the long, dusty road that led to Spike’s place. It would be a long walk back to town.

Trying not to upset him until she could figure this whole thing out, she took a few bites of toast. It stuck in her throat though. She reached for the glass of juice he’d put in front of her to force it down. Maybe if she kept talking he would become the man who had brought her here and not the cold stranger she was facing this morning.

“I’m going to need clothes,” Buffy said, looking up at him as innocently as possible.

“I’ll buy you what you need,” Spike said, ruffling her hair as he sat beside her. He kissed her cheek and reached for a piece of toast.

“I’m still going to need to make some arrangements…”

“I said no,” Spike threatened. “I’ll take care of you and make sure you have everything you need.” He ate without any apparent cares. Even to the point of licking the butter from his fingers.

“Dawn will be worried about me,” Buffy pushed, hoping that his former relationship with her sister would make him relent. It didn’t. It only infuriated him.

“I said no,” Spike yelled, standing up. “What part of that don’t you understand?” He swept the plate from the counter, sending it crashing to the floor. “There will be no leaving, no contact with anyone from your past. Your life is here with me now. Remember it was your choice to come with me. So, deal with it.”

Buffy took his hand, kissing the palm, “Yes, I chose to be with you. I do want to be with you, but…”

Spike yanked his hand away, only to grab her by the arm. He pushed her to the floor before she could react. He knelt beside her, twisting her hair around his hand, forcing her too look up at him. “I am only going to say this once. You will obey me. There will be no arrangements, no contact. That part of your life is over with.” He let go of her and stood. “Now, clean up the mess.”

All of her dreams where shattered like the plate in front of her. It was over. The nice, normal life she was trying to get by getting married. Her dream of living a wild, passionate, and happy life with Spike. No justifications. Nothing except waking up to a nightmare she didn’t know existed. This was the Spike everyone warned her about. The vampire that only needed an opportunity so he could hurt her. She sobbed out her terror and her disillusionment.

“I thought you loved me,” Buffy choked out, too afraid to even look at him.

Spike knelt beside her again, lifting her chin with his finger. “I do love you, pet.” His thumb traced her lip. “You should be grateful that I do after everything that’s happened. Not many men would, seeing how far you’ve let yourself fall.” He kissed the corner of her mouth then his tongue traced the trail of tears still rolling down her cheeks. “At least you’re still a good shag.”

“How…Spike,” Buffy had so many questions but she was blinded by the pain that was ripping her apart.

“Clean up the mess then yourself,” Spike said almost gently. “I don’t want to see you until then. Okay?”

Buffy could only nod, still hoping she would wake up. It wasn’t going to happen though. No matter how much she wished it. She watched as he gave her a smile before he left the room. She got herself into this and she would have to learn to live with it. Spike loved her like no one else did. She swore she would find a way to please him as she began to clean up the mess on the floor.


to be continued…

Chapter 6



How much self-loathing could one man endure in a lifetime that consisted of centuries? Too much it seemed as Spike covered his face with his hands. The sound of her weeping cut through his very soul with the sympathy of a pit bull attacking a helpless kitten. It left a jagged, bleeding rip that left him wondering if it would ever heal. His own cruelty made him cower from the demon within him. A part of him screamed for him to return to Buffy. To gather her close to him, comfort her with pleas of love and forgiveness, and wipe away her tears. Even offer up his blood to make her smile again. His whole world could light up like the morning dawn when Buffy smiled.

Spike leaned back against the wall of the hallway because he knew he couldn’t. It didn’t matter how much he wanted to. If he did it would reward her behavior. The broken little girl would be his to nurture, to protect and to pet forever. She would become another Drusilla; a candle without the flame to give it purpose. And that was something he couldn’t bear. Not for Buffy. He would force her to the very edge and if necessary, push her over if it would only make her whole again.

Buffy’s spirit would emerge soon enough. Sometimes she doubted the resilience of her own soul, but she always came through in the end. Like a cornered lioness she could come out of the corner fighting with that fire blazing in her eyes. It didn’t matter what needed battling, she would give her all to defeat it. No matter what the price was, just like when she was forced to kill Angel, after the death of her mother, when Glory had taken Dawn and after her own resurrection. She would fight this time too. He had enough faith for them both to see her through to the other side.

He stood in the hallway, listening to her sobs, and hating himself. With every fiber of his being he listened, following her every movement by the various sounds that reached him, the broken plate being picked up, the sounds of running water before she came back to scrub the floor clean of the food, then finally the sound of her footsteps padding across the tile.

With a swiftness that only a creature like him could use, he retreated to the safety of his living room before she could see him. No matter the guilt he felt, she had to believe in the act that he was putting on for her. The coldness and anger of a heartless bastard that didn’t care about the pain he caused her. He didn’t want to do it, but he didn’t know any other way to bring Buffy’s fire back then to force it to ignite.

Violence was always the way between them as they fought and as they loved. They could never live as others lived. It was in their souls as they pushed beyond boundaries that mere mortals could never withstand. The passion, the love, and the blood they spilled because of it was so tightly bound together that the lines blurred between right and wrong. Every major stepping stone for them was bound in the fight, from the first time they met in the alley, to their first coupling and in the deaths that tried to bring them down. It would bring Buffy back this time, too. It always would.

Her footsteps hesitated at the entrance to the hallway as if she was listening to see where he was before she hurried on toward the bedroom. Her fear was ripe as it floated to him. It sickened him but he couldn’t stop. Not if he wanted Buffy to be the woman she was meant to be, the woman he loved.

With a heavy sigh, Spike retreated to the security of his couch and reached for the controller of his video games. It was patience he must cultivate now. Her obedience to him instead of the righteous anger he expected made him realize how broken her soul was and it would take longer for her to fight back.

So, he tried to become absorbed in the task of staying alive while traveling through worlds that reminded him of his own past. Yet somehow the woman down the hall kept encroaching upon his thoughts. He kept listening to her every move, to the sounds of her putting away her clothes, making the bed then finally the water turning on in the shower. She was doing exactly as he told her to do. Such obedience should have thrilled him but now it only compounded his guilt.

If nothing else the night before told him how much of a mistake he’d made to put off going to her. He should have gone to her the moment he was corporeal again. Instead he’d been stupid and selfish. How could he have shagged Harmony when the love of his life was halfway across the world grieving for him? Yet despite that she’d been at her peak, strong, free for the first time in seven years, and in love with life. She was touring places she’d only dreamed about and never thought she would see. He regretted not being there to see her face light up with each new discovery, sharing in her delight as she discovered new things or allowed him to teach her about the world.

His cowardice had nearly destroyed them both. Maybe now his love could rebuild them.

“Spike,” Buffy whispered from the doorway. She glanced at him then down at the floor.

Despite the pain her movement brought to him, her beauty touched him, feeding his hunger for the light like only she could. Her hair cascaded halfway down her back in a riot of gold that rivaled the sun. Even devoid of makeup she was more striking than any woman he’d ever known. Her body still made him ache to touch it even dressed in simple cotton Capri’s and t-shirt.

Unable to resist, he held his arms out to her. Every fiber of his being needed to touch her again. She smiled and came to him. He lost all thoughts except those that told him to pull her close against him, to kiss those lips that made him soar through the sky. He accepted her questing tongue, letting it explore his mouth, running over his teeth, tasting all of him. Without thought his hand molded to her breast, squeezing the soft mound, teasing the nipple with his thumb. She moaned deep in his mouth and he pulled her closer still. Here she was still his Buffy. They were a matched set. No one else could satisfy him like she could. She belonged to him…with him.

These moments were timeless, their bodies knew nothing of the past, or what might one day be. Only the present mattered. The pleasure they brought to one another. He accepted her hand slipping beneath his shirt. Her fingertips smoothing across the plane of his chest, brushing across his nipple, all the while her tongue still tangled with his. She shifted, his hands spanning her waist to hold her steady as she moved.

“Let me please you,” Buffy asked against his lips. She slipped to the floor between his legs. Her hands reached for the zipper of his jeans.

The moment was shattered. He looked down into eyes, not filled with the desire he hoped to see, but with a hunger to keep him happy. She wanted to satisfy the creature that could bring her such hurt. He knew what she was doing because he’d done it a thousand times for his self-proclaimed master.

Sexual favors were the ultimate bargaining tool. Many had lost their soul to keep the one they thought in power happy by the use of their body. Buffy was offering the one thing he said she was still good at. The only thing she thought she could control him with. Or at least keep him from hurting her anymore.

I’ll make you remember, flashed through his mind with the power of a falling anvil. His heart shattered as he remembered the lowest point of his life. He couldn’t do this. Not like this. Not like he once offered his body in return for her love. Service the girl, until it almost destroyed him and his battered heart.

“No, Buffy, no,” Spike said, taking a hold of her wrists. He tugged her to him, cuddling her against him, wishing things were simpler. All he knew was he couldn’t let her go that far. It was a place they could never come back from. Rocking her, he wrestled with his own guilt, the love he held for her, and ultimately her love for him.

~~~~~~~

This was where she was safe. Here, cradled in Spike’s arms. Buffy felt her body relax as his lips rustled through her hair while one hand caressed her leg. He was love. Buffy could let no other thought intrude upon her conclusion of his status in her life. The morning had already been dismissed as an anomaly caused by the emotional overload of the past day.

She sighed, nuzzling closer to him, letting her hand drift over the defined muscles of his chest. Pausing briefly, she rolled his nipple between her fingers before letting them tickle his side. It elicited a kiss to her forehead. They would make love soon. His cock was pressing against her thigh as if it was begging for her attention. She didn’t understand why he didn’t want her to go down on him. It was something he always wanted her to do in the past. Forcing her to her knees, on graves, in alleys, beside his bed, and once in the closet of her house on that horrible birthday where no one could leave. He’d told her that she was the best he’d ever had.

“I love you, Spike,” Buffy said, cupping his face. She gazed into those endless blue depths, seeing her own soul in them. “I really do. All I want is to be with you.”

“I know you do,” he whispered. His kiss was soft, close mouthed, and almost too innocent for them. She licked at his lips, wanting his tongue to play with hers. He pulled away.

“Don’t you want me anymore?”

He stiffened and she cringed away from him. She’d angered him again with her forwardness. Why couldn’t she leave well enough alone? Why did she have to try and push him beyond what he was comfortable with?

“Didn’t you get fucked enough last night?” Spike bit out making her cringe from the hurt in his voice.

Spike wouldn’t let her go though. His hand pressed between her legs, sliding the material between the folds of her cunt so that he could rub at her clit. She gasped at the contact. His eyes never broke with hers, her body responded to the harshness of his touch despite her uneasiness. He knew exactly how to bring her pleasure. Tears filled her eyes, even as she gasped from the pleasure he brought. Neither of them said a word as he continued to bring her to orgasm. It was lonely and cruel, much like their relationship from before.

Once she came, Buffy pushed him away, and ran to the bedroom. She slammed the door behind her. She hated him. She hated herself. Burying her face in her hands she cried out her confusion. He didn’t come to make it better. Spike always came to her. He was always there to take care of her. What had changed? Afraid of upsetting him, too critical of her own self-worth, Buffy curled up in the middle of the bed to wait.

The sounds of his video games reached her. Her eyes closed in loneliness and somewhere she must have drifted off. She didn’t know how long she slept or what Spike had done while she did. There was no clock in the bedroom so it could have been minutes or it could have been hours before she awoke. She lay still trying to get her bearings when she heard voices. Spike’s and someone else’s but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. They were both speaking in Spanish. Not knowing who was there or why, she waited until she heard the front door slam before leaving the bedroom. There were sounds coming from the kitchen so she headed that way again.

There was the smell of something spicy teasing at her. Her stomach growled. It had been so long since she’d eaten. She wondered if he’d let her eat anything or not then she shook her head. He wasn’t going to let her starve.

“You coming in or staying out there in the hall?” Spike called to her.

“Hey,” Buffy said, padding across the tile. It was still sticky in the place where her breakfast had landed. She must have missed a spot when cleaning the floor earlier. She made a mental note to return to clean it up later. “Something smells good in here.”

“Its enchiladas,” Spike answered her. He glanced up from where he was emptying a bag into the refrigerator. “I called a friend and had him bring some groceries along with something already made for lunch. You hungry?”

“Yeah,” Buffy said, sitting at the counter again. Her mind was rebelling because she wanted to ask him what he thought since he’d taken her breakfast away. But she kept her mouth shut because she didn’t want another fight. “Some food would be good.”

“They’re in the bag. Why don’t you put them on some plates? When I’m done here we can eat.”

“Okay.”

For the next few minutes they were absorbed in their chores. It felt good to be working beside him in relative peace. He passed her once, patting her on the bottom and giving a quick kiss to the side of her neck. Buffy daydreamed about domestic bliss with this vampire she loved so much. It was just going to take time for them to get adjusted to one another that was all, she reassured herself as he caressed her again.

A long time had passed since they were together. They’d both changed and there was still so much to talk about. She just needed to be patient and it would all be as she fantasized it would be.

Spike poured them both a glass of sangria then sat the pitcher on the table. “Eat up, pet,” he said, sitting across from her.

“This is really good,” Buffy remarked, taking a bite of her chicken wrapped in a tortilla.

“Better than Taco Bell?” Spike teased.

“Yeah,” Buffy laughed, happy that he seemed to be content at the moment. “It’s really a nice house you have. I really like it.”

“Thank you,” Spike said, reaching over and wiping some sauce off her chin with his thumb. He sucked it off then reached for his wine. “It was pretty much a hovel when I moved in. My crypt was nicer than this place. Didn’t have anything else to do so I worked on fixing it up.”

“Must have been that decorator you ate,” Buffy teased back. “I remember the crypt being rather nice, too.”

“It wasn’t a bad place at the time. We had some good times there.”

Did they? The fighting and the sex seemed to have almost overwhelmed any good times they might have had. There were a few moments when things between them were pleasant. Times when they laughed or talked in between the bouts of fucking. She cherished those moments now and regretted that there weren’t more of them.

“Yeah, we did,” Buffy replied softly with a smile.

Spike only nodded in reply. He returned to eating with an appetite that surprised her. He’d always eaten but this time it was like he was starving for real nourishment. She didn’t ask though, afraid of disturbing the fragile truce between them. She couldn’t find anything else neutral to talk about and he didn’t say anything so they finished in silence.

“I’ll clean up if you’d like,” Buffy offered, picking up his plate along with her own.

“No, I’ll help,” Spike said, taking the glasses and pitcher into the kitchen.

The clean up was much like the preparation in that they worked together. They seemed to have a rhythm that was so natural she felt like they’d been doing it forever. It only reinforced her theory that this was meant to be and eventually Spike would settle down. She hung the dishtowel on the rack beside the sink before turning to Spike.

“So, what’s there to do around here in the afternoon?”

“Bored already, Luv?” Spike asked with his infamous head tilt and raising of one brow directed at her. He stepped closer to her, pinning her between him and the counter. His hands encircled her wrists and spreading them out beside her then leaned into her. He stared down into her face for a moment. “Do you regret being here?”

“No, I’ve already told you that I love you,” Buffy said. She kept telling herself to be pleasant. Not to rise to any bait he offered her. This time was going to be different. She wasn’t going to be the bitch that everyone had branded her before. That woman had died one night in Italy when she found out that the only two men she’d ever loved had been killed in a battle they knew they couldn’t win. After that nothing really mattered and she didn’t care what happened to her. So, she spent her time trying to make everyone happy, bending over backwards being kind. Somehow she’d been offered a second chance and if it killed her she’d never be the old Buffy who chased everyone off. “I want to be with you, Spike. Believe me.”

“I do,” Spike said, trailing kisses along her neck. He licked at Angel’s mark. “I know I’m the only one for you. Otherwise I’d never have come for you and you wouldn’t have come with me if you didn’t know it, too.”

She wanted to ask why he was being alternately mean then loving toward her. She wanted to know why he’d waited for so long to come and get her. The words wouldn’t form though. He was touching her in all those places that he knew would send her swooning into his arms. She closed her eyes trying to keep back the tears that were always too ready these days.

“Please,” Buffy said, unable to ask him to be gentle with her. She didn’t have the right after all the things she’d done to him. The beatings, the emotional pain, the using of his love and body to make her feel again; it had all been too cruel. She’d tried to grind him under the heel of her boot. And so many times she’d succeeded. Why should he be any different to her now? “I love you so much,” was all she could say and hoped it would reach him.



to be continued…

Chapter 7


The desperate plea of her adoration for him seeped beyond the hard walls he was trying to maintain. Hands soft as the morning dew caressed his arms in gentle motions that sent chills along his spine. He was a fool again, always for Buffy, needing her love to make him whole. Too far gone to walk away, too deprived for too long, it made him give in to a desire that was a living thing between them.

“Make love to me,” Buffy requested, slipping her hands beneath his shirt then when he didn’t protest, tugged it upwards.

“I’ve always made love to you,” Spike whispered. “Always my heart is yours.”

“I know,” she replied, her eyes staring deeply into his. “I’ll take care of it this time.”

Nothing else mattered. This moment too longed for over years of lonely nights, filled with fantasies that never matched this intensity. Her surrender was too precious for him to find the logic that made this moment wrong. Everything forgotten as he pulled her to him, lips pressed together while clothes were pulled and torn from bodies already throbbing in lust.

Buffy threw her head back, gasping in air while her breasts arched closer to him. Her bra and tank top still clung to her arms leaving her tits framed by tattered white cotton. It was maddeningly erotic, innocence and sin, the two sides of his very being. He kissed her chin, nudging her head back just a bit more, so his tongue could blaze a trail down her throat to the valley between. He pressed those soft mounds against his cheeks, licking and nibbling on the flesh that separated them, while his thumbs teased at her nipples.

“Spike, oh god,” Buffy mewled, her fingers tangled in his hair, keeping him against her. She didn’t need to, there was no place else he wanted to be. This was his nirvana, and he was never letting it go again. He suddenly moved to grasp her hips, picking her up and sitting her on the counter. Her shirt and bra were yanked off to be discarded on the floor somewhere.

“Mine,” Spike growled, staring into emerald eyes ablaze with her passion. He shook her slightly when she didn’t respond. Her hair flopped forward, covering part of her face but neither of them took the time to fix it. He had to have an answer from her. “Are you mine?”

“Yes,” Buffy whispered. “I am yours.”

It was then that he cried, burying his face in her lap, too many emotions since he decided to go to her. Fear, loneliness, need, desire, love, and hopelessness wrapped up in a frightening package of forever. No one could ever take Buffy Anne Summers place in his heart and soul. She would take his very sanity one day and he would never even fight to keep it because he would be too entranced to see it go.

But it wouldn’t be today.

No today when he needed to see her fire again.

The cold hand of reason had finally reached him within the fingertips tracing his back. In the gentle reassurance of her being that should have been fervent instead of nurturing. The Buffy he brought home wasn’t the Buffy he died for and he needed her again. His anger at the injustice of life was back, burning his determination to return her to the throne she should be on and not kneeling at the edge of life. Spike gathered her in his arms, taking them both to the floor. She only stared up at him, waiting while he finished undressing them both. Once he was naked, he covered, pinning her hands above her head.

“Tell me you want me,” he whispered.

“I want you,” she said, almost hesitatingly.

“Do you feel my love when I take you?” he asked, nudging her legs apart. His cock poised at the entrance of her womanhood. “Do you feel it, Buffy?”

Her eyes closed and tears slipped down her cheek. She brought her legs up, opening to him in silent surrender. Still she didn’t see, didn’t understand, the purpose of his question or the violence of his moods. All he wanted was a spark somewhere in her frozen depths to tell him that she still lived. Hell, he would even willingly take another beating if it made her feel.

“You will,” he swore, sliding down her body, burying his face in her cunt. His tongue worked its magic in the devotion he showed. She squirmed beneath him, her hands trying to find purchase on cold tile, her feet sliding along his body as he brought her to orgasm. She welcomed him when he returned, accepting his kiss, tasting herself on his tongue. Her legs holding him tight while her fingernails dug deep into his shoulders.

This time he didn’t hesitate. He slid inside the tightness of her body, taking what was his. And as in every time before he lost all ability to think, their love took over the act as he thrust deep within her. Here she was still alive in everyway possible as she clung to him, accepted him within her body. He was home.

“No where else,” he muttered, as her heat drove him beyond reason. It was everywhere, encasing him in a molten cloud of need for more. Steam seemed to be rising from the floor…from them. Their bodies joined together in an endless tangle of lust. His cock was buried so deep inside of her that every movement pushed against the barrier to her womb. She cried out in need, want and desire. Her velvet walls squeezing him, milking him in sweet ripples that kept him from leaving her. He rolled, rotated, and bounced but never thrust. It was too welcoming inside of her.

It was too honest.

Their foreheads pressed together, their eyes locked, almost never blinking as they fucked here on the kitchen floor. How long they’d been like this, Spike had no clue. Didn’t care either. Her hands were pressed into his shoulders, the nails digging deep into his flesh, until he could feel his blood dripping onto her. It mingled with her sweat in pink rivers that ran between her breasts. Her knees pressed into his ribs, while her bottom rolled upwards, coaxing more of his cock into her. He could feel her toes trying to find purchase on his hips so that she had something else to hold onto.

Spike pressed off with his feet, driving into her with a sudden force that made her gasp. They slid on the smoothness of the tile beneath them. He pressed his hands into the tile to hold them still while his hips rotated, then he pushed against that bundle of nerves at the curve of her cunt.

“Yes, oh, god, Spike, yes,” Buffy mumbled, rolling upwards trying to maintain the sensation that was keeping her on the precipice of an orgasm. He was dangling her, teasing her with completion but never letting her have it. When she came, he wanted her screaming his name and her love until it vibrated the walls of his house. This wasn’t part of his plan or to torture her. It was because he didn’t want to let go of this creature beneath him. This was his Buffy, passionate, wild, beautiful, loving, and fiery enough to burn with the intensity of the sun. “I love you so much,” she whispered, her eyes fluttering close as she arched up under a tiny orgasm. Her body was overloading but he wasn’t ready to let her go yet.

Spike licked the tears and sweat from first one cheek then the other. She gazed up at him again, her eyes never leaving his even as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. She sucked it in until he thought she would pull it from his mouth. A primitive creature devouring it in a ritual of claiming and love. He would give it gladly to keep her this way. He pushed up so that he could capture one perfect breast in his hand. He molded it, letting it form to the indentation of his hand, before pushing it into a point. His fingers slipped along to tease at the nipple, elongated in its need for attention. He rolled it, and then let his thumb flick across the tip.

It made Buffy pant even more. Her breath flowed over his face in rapid spurts that brought the scent of wine and her over him, intoxicating him with its sweetness. He grunted low in his throat as he gave up and kissed her again. Their tongues dancing together while her legs slipped around his waist. Her thighs quivered from the muscles being forced beyond their endurance. He felt a rush of her fluids drip from her, coating his balls with its thick honey. He shook under the power she brought to him with her sex.

It was heady, mythic in proportions and humbling to a vampire who once ruled the world with his evil. He would swim through holy water for this woman who deigned to allow him to touch the paradise that she held. He nibbled along her neck trying to relax, force himself to regroup so that he didn’t cum yet. She threw her head back, inviting him without words to claim her. It wasn’t time yet. He wanted a partner who was equal to him, not a pet to take care of. Without thinking he vamped out, throwing his own head back in a roar of rage at her acquiesce.

“Damn you, Buffy,” Spike snarled. “Damn you for what you do to me.”

She looked frightened for a moment. Her eyes large with surprise, then they narrowed in a brief spark of anger. She pushed at him, flipping them; they crashed into the cabinets, bounced off until he had her beneath him again. He grabbed her legs, pushing them up and apart, and rose to his knees. She struggled for a moment but then groaned at his first violent thrust. On the second, she came, calling out to him. He didn’t relent instead using his strength; he drove into her over and over again.

Buffy arched up, her hands covering his at her knees, until they’re fingers were entwined. She threw her head back as she came again. He lost counts of the times that her body coated him with the fluids of her orgasms. He never lost his vampiric visage as he took her. He wanted the power of it. The still lurking fear in emerald pools as she squirmed beneath him. Her every breath calling out his name, never asking for mercy but only for more, then tentatively she asked for his love.

“If you don’t know how I feel then you’re not half the woman I thought you were,” Spike muttered, falling onto her prone form again. He was immediately bound to her by arms and legs, pulling him close against her. Her hands cupped his face, her expression tender as she kissed the tip of his nose.

“You are my love,” Buffy whispered.

And he came in a relieving sigh as he collapsed into her. He felt his body quiver as he released himself inside her waiting depths while she soothed him with loving hands. For the first time since Los Angeles he felt safe. His tears fell again, splashing onto her as he buried his face in her neck. He cried out for the years lost, the foolish mistakes, the loss of the spirit of his Slayer, and then he cried when he felt his softened member slip from her depths. And he cried for being a bastard when all he wanted to do was be happy with her. Eventually his tears dried up and it was time to leave this cocoon of ignorance. He stood, scooping her up and heading for the bedroom. He wanted to hold onto this as long as he could, hold onto the woman that was his.


to be continued…

Chapter 8


Their long afternoon together had been near perfect bliss spent in each other’s arms. There was no counting how many times they had made love because they didn’t stop touching the whole time they were in bed. Never before had she been touched with such slow devotion that made every inch of her skin tingle in need. He made her feel like she was melting as he caressed her into a frenzy that left her dripping with desire for him. Kisses that burned their way into her soul and a taking of her body that made her weep with the love he burned into her heart.

Buffy knew she was completely in love with Spike. She would shout it from the rooftops if it would help to reach him. It was evident that he loved her, too. He wouldn’t touch like she was everything holy if he didn’t. She held onto that knowledge with everything she had knowing it would get her through the rough spots they kept having.

“What are you thinking about?” Spike asked, rolling onto his side and kissing her shoulder.

“About us,” Buffy said, smiling. “About how lucky we are to have been able to find each other again.”

“I’ll second that,” Spike whispered. “It’s going to be wonderful, Buffy.”

“It already is,” she said, almost wistfully. It almost was, she told herself sternly, and it would be. “I’m happy,” she reiterated. It was more for herself than for him.

“I won’t ever let you go,” Spike said, nuzzling her neck. He trailed kisses down to her naked breast where he licked at one nipple still tingling from his last bout of attention toward it. “You’ll never be alone again.”

“I know.” She arched, pressing herself against his questing mouth. She tangled her fingers through his curls that lay in twisted snarls against his scalp. “I don’t want to leave you,” Buffy whispered, hoping her constant declarations of her love would help him to overcome his insecurity about her.

One last kiss on the side of her breast before he looked up with a smile. “Where were you going on your honeymoon?”

“Why?”

The question startled her, but she forced herself to relax. He pulled her closer against him, hooking a leg over hers while his hand cupped her face. The intensity of his gaze made her nervous. He … no, she was on the edge again of facing the anger that seemed to have a life of its own within him.

“Buffy, I asked you a question,” he said, too pleasantly. “Please, answer me. Remember honesty?”

“Hawaii,” she said, trying to keep the quaking from her voice. “La…we rented a house there for a couple of weeks.”

“See, now was that so difficult?” he grinned at her. His thumb caressed her cheek. “I noticed that most of the clothes in your bag looked new.”

“Yeah, I bought them for the trip,” Buffy said, relaxing. Maybe she could learn this new game he wanted to play. Answer his questions, do what he said, and don’t try to change the rules, and there wouldn’t be any arguments. “I…wish I’d known that I was coming here instead…not that I would change how things happened, but…”

“You would have bought clothes for me, instead of him?”

“Yes,” Buffy answered, nodding.

“We’ll replace them,” he growled possessively. “It’s almost dark. We can go shopping and get some dinner in town. Would you like that?”

“Yes,” she said, giggling. It really wasn’t so hard to get along with him after all. “I love you, Spike.”

“Love you too, kitten.”

~~~~~~

The lazy afternoon heat had given way to a cool evening that was pleasant for a leisurely shopping excursion. His generosity overwhelmed her as he indulged her every whim. If she liked something it was added to the growing pile of clothes that he was paying for. He took her to stores that stocked everything she needed from panties to jeans to dresses. Not since her father tried to buy her love had she been so frivolous about choosing clothes. Sometimes Spike would pick something out, and it never surprised her that not only did it fit but it looked good on her. The smile he bestowed on her when she showed them off made everything worthwhile.

Within a couple of hours the trunk of the Lincoln was loaded with her new wardrobe. A new dress hugged her curves as they made their way to a restaurant for some dinner before heading home.

His hand held tightly to hers, leading her as she took in the party like atmosphere of Avenida Revolucion. It was overwhelming after being confined to the house for the last couple of days. People were everywhere, tourists and locals, all pushing along the crowded sidewalks. Vendors kept approaching them, offering the pretty lady jewelry, clothes, even drinks all at what they considered a cheap price. Spike ignored them, moving through the crowds with an intensity that made her a little uncomfortable. Gone was the playful meandering of before, but she continued to hold tightly to his hand, not wanting to get lost.

Sternly, she reminded herself that none of this was new to him. It was where he lived, an every day place that didn’t bring any new excitement to him. It was only when she slowed to glance wistfully into the window of a shoe store did he consider her feelings.

“Am I walking too fast?” Spike asked, glancing back but not yet slowing his stride.

“I’m fine,” Buffy said, trying to remember that this was where she lived now. There would be plenty of time for her to get to know the area and window shop.

Spike stopped suddenly as if he could read her mind. His arm slipped around her waist, while he bent to kiss her cheek. “I apologize. This is your first time here, isn’t it? We can do the tourist thing if you would like.”

Her heart thudded in appreciation as she looked up at him then shook her head. “I am a bit tired. Let’s get some food then head home.” A small thrill ran through her as she realized it was their home. This was her reality now. Not the life she left behind in Los Angeles.

He smiled at her, and then turned to start moving along the sidewalk again, her hand tucked back in his. This time his pace was a little slower allowing her time to look a bit more at the wares being offered. Buffy made mental notes on the shops she wanted to return to on another day. A smile danced across her face as she watched a small child dart in front of them. She was adorable with pink ribbons in her long black hair. It made Buffy wonder if she would ever have a child. A baby with dark curly hair and big blue eyes.

“What are you thinking about, pet?” Spike asked, startling her. His eyes moved from her to the little girl who was fast disappearing in the crowd. He tilted his head as he returned to study her.

“Just daydreaming,” Buffy replied, smiling. She hoped he wouldn’t force her to say what he already knew. It wasn’t time yet. “I never thought that I would live in a place like this or actually live…,” she sighed. “It’s hard to explain.”

“I understand,” he said stepping closer to her. “Thought you would do your slaying, then die and get to stay dead.”

“Something like that,” Buffy said. She was grateful that she’d been able to keep her fantasy to herself, then her mind tripped on itself and she remembered another time another place.

“Think I still dream of a crypt for two with a white picket fence.”

Her eyes filled with tears as the past surrounded her. All the times she broke this man’s heart, used him not only sexually but as a punching bag to relieve her frustration with herself and the world. She didn’t deserve his heart or his kindness, but it was hers. She slipped her arms around his waist. He smiled down at her.

“I love you,” she whispered to him.

“Love you, too.”

“Do you still dream?” Buffy asked. He froze as he looked down at her with a puzzled expression on his face. His head was tilted while his brows furrowed over those questioning eyes. “Of us…in a crypt with a white picket fence?”

“You remember?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” She asked, with a smile. She cupped his cheek, loving how he leaned into her palm. They both ignored the crowd that flowed around them. “I remember a lot of things,” she looked down. “Sometimes too many things. Things I wish hadn’t happened. It’s one of the reasons that I changed...to make up for all the times that I was less than kind.”

“When you were a bitch?”

“Yeah,” she laughed. “I was a bitch.” This time she stared straight into those eyes. “Especially to you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Spike said, turning to start walking. “It wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.”

“It doesn’t make it right,” Buffy continued, jogging to catch up. She clasped his hand. Thankful when he didn’t pull away from her. She hesitated a moment, afraid of angering him again.

“Let it go, Buffy,” Spike said. “It doesn’t matter now.”

“Doesn’t it?” She pulled him to a stop. “You asked me when I gave up. You wanted to know why I was dead inside. I told you for love, but that wasn’t all it was. I wanted to be someone that I liked. Someone I wasn’t afraid to face in the mirror everyday.”

“You were fine,” Spike replied. “This woman,” he waved his hand in the air around her. “I don’t know who she is. I don’t understand…why you want to be only half alive?”

“I’m not half alive,” Buffy retorted. “There are millions of women out there that don’t have to tear people apart to be around them. That work behind a desk and marry a nice guy and settle down.”

“You’re a bloody slayer,” Spike growled, his eyes flashing amber for a brief moment. He leaned closer to her. “You’re not like other women. You’re the one and yet you fight it so you can be like any other woman in the world. Why do you want to blend in when you can stand out?”

It came back to that. It always did. To be the one. To be the Chosen one meant being alone and she didn’t want to be alone. No one had ever stuck around. Spike coming back had given her hope that maybe there was someone who would be there for her through everything. She shook her head, fighting tears as she fought for her next breath.

“You love her, not me,” Buffy choked out. “You love this image of me that you see in your head, not who I am on the inside. The me that nobody sees. Oh, god, I’ve been such a fool.”

She turned, hurrying to lose him in the swarm of people. All of her doubts and fears crowded in on her. The voices of her friends and family jumbled in her mind, letting her know she was wrong. Only as a slayer did she excel. She wasn’t worthy of being loved. Her last dream was shattering around her as she fought the truth of who she was. Slayers were meant to stand alone. They always had before so why would she be any different?

A hand grabbed her arm; she turned to see Spike with a look of fury on his face. He dragged her toward an alley without giving any consideration for her. She stumbled once but he didn’t stop. Not until they stood in the shadows between two buildings. He pushed her against the wall so hard that her head snapped against the brick. Fighting to hold onto her bearings she felt him leaning into her so that she would have to fight him in order to get away. She didn’t intend to. She waited with eyes closed for him to do what he wanted.

“How dare you say that I don’t love all of you?” He snarled. “I’m the only one that has ever bleedin’ loved you without conditions. You didn’t need to be anything but you for me to be there. Yes, you were a bitch, but I loved you,” he shook her violently. “No matter who were or what you did. So, don’t go all pious on me.”

“Do you love who I am now?” Buffy asked, opening her eyes to find the demon staring at her. “Can you accept who I am now? Or is it that you need the bitch to justify your own insecurity?”

He stumbled back. His hands leaving her as he stared at her in confusion. Apparently she was right. She reached for him but he stepped back.

“I love you, Spike, William…demon or man, it doesn’t matter,” she told him beseechingly, in hopes of reaching him. “Please, love me, too,” she added when he still didn’t say anything.

“How can you love someone you’ve never met?” Spike said. “I’m not the puppy dog that you think I am.”

“I don’t think you are,” Buffy said. “And yes, I’ve seen the demon…remember…?”

“That was the First pulling my strings,” Spike said softly, advancing on her once again. “You’ve never met who I really am.” He took her hands, forcing her against the wall once more, and then lifted their hands to a spot on the wall on either side of her. “The man your precious Angel taught me to be.”

Buffy willed herself not to move. He wouldn’t really hurt her. Try to scare her, yes, but seriously hurt her, no, she trusted him with her life. She stared unblinking into amber eyes that studied her while his body leaned against her, leaving no place for her to go. Not that she wanted to go. She would see this through to whatever conclusion he saw fit.

She willed herself not to move when he nuzzled her neck with a soft caress. Maybe he was just going to let it go. She sighed when his tongue licked a spot on the curve of her neck. Then he pressed against her as she heard an unearthly sound emitting from his throat. A growl, she realized, that signaled the loosening of his hold on the demon. Still she stayed, until it was the feel of his fangs biting into her throat that made her finally react at all.


to be continued…

Chapter 9



His fangs broke through the soft flesh of her neck like a knife through a ripe peach. She whimpered as he let them sink to their full length inside of her. Blood trickled at first, then flowed like warm wine into this mouth. It was an elixir, sending electricity darting through his body, before settling in his groin. She was the fulfillment of his darkest hungers.

Spike pulled her closer against him. His body molding to hers and for just a moment she tensed as if she was going to fight him, and then she went compliant beneath him. Her sweet curves pressing toward him, wanting him, like he wanted her. She slid her hands down to his waist where strong fingers kneaded him, like she was the kitten he often called her. He waited for a purr that never came, but the beating of Buffy’s heart was a thundering staccato against the hollow cavity of his chest.

It whispered of the blood that it moved with each thump that it gave. He growled his possession of her body. Buffy was now his in every way possible. She sighed in response, her breath wafting across the flesh of his own neck teasing at the mark of his own Sire.

To turn this Slayer would be a coup even for him with his own record of killing Slayers. It wasn’t like she was pushing him away. In fact it was the opposite, so ready for him, she dripped with her fragrant musk in an ever-increasing fountain of lust for him.

His demon whispered that he would be a fool not to take this moment to the logical conclusion. She wouldn’t fight it. They would be together for eternity. She would be his childe, his lover, and companion. His fantasies for them would come true. No one could ever take her from him. They would be linked by not only love, but by blood.

Torn by desire and love, Spike leaned forward, letting the softness of her body take his weight. She accepted him, shifting to accomadate him as he pressed them into the wall behind her. Then soft as a newborn she sighed letting her head fall back to expose even more of the creamy curve of her throat.

A decision was made when her small hand cupped his hard cock through his jeans. Her fingers stroked him through the worn denim. He jerked forward letting her take that part of him while he partook of her nector.

Rich, vibrant with life, and spicy in the promises of what her blood would do for him. She shuddered as he sucked at her, taking in great gulps as he drank from a human for the first time in years. This was decadence of the most privileged of demons; the ones who felt no remorse, no pain or sympathy with their victims, seeing humans as only a source of food and amusement.

Like he once did, before he fell in love with this slip of a girl.

Love.

He did love her.

No matter who or what she had become. Buffy was made to be his woman. Spike quit thinking, letting his emotions take over his actions, and his lust. He changed the level of his drink, letting his fangs make love to her while her hand moved over his cock in time to his swallows. It was a slow, sweet dance that was made for only them.

Needing her, he yanked her dress up, ripping away the lacy barrier to dive his fingers into his promised land. Her honey flowed over his hand, easing his way into the heated depth. The two of them moved in tangent, hands and fangs, to the symphony of escalating moans that fell from gasping lips. He circled her clit with one finger, teasing her, making her quiver in need. Buffy bucked against his hand, her legs parting as one thigh slid upwards along his hip. He pushed forward, letting his other fingers slip inside that secret place where she was so sweet.

No two people could ever have been closer than they were at that moment. He was so far inside of her that she was a part of him. Spike suckled at her neck while straining upwards against the entranceway to her womb. There was a humming surrounding him. It was her body singing to him and he was determined to please her. Her hand curled around his neck, holding him close to her, while she arched forward, fucking herself on his fingers. Unbridled in passion, she was magnificent to him, bloody fucking amazing as she took what she wanted from him.

Spike wanted to rejoice when she came, vibrating from head to toe with the ecstasy that he brought her. For a brief second she went limp in his arms as he carefully extracted himself from her body. He went to lick her throat clean, but she pushed him back. For a brief second their eyes clashed in a battle of wills, then she fell to her knees with blood still dripping like red teardrops onto her breasts.

Spike watched in fascination as she concentrated on unzipping him. Oh, so careful, she peeled his jeans back, pushing them down his hips until his cock was exposed for her pleasure. Buffy never looked up as she wrapped pink lips around his length. With slow torture, she worked her way down until he could feel the back of her throat. He grunted his pleasure at being encased inside the heat of her mouth, but she wasn’t anywhere close to being done with him.

One hand kneaded his ass while one cupped his balls. Both squeezing him in the rhythm of her sucking. His eyes fluttered closed, unable to comprehend anything but what she was doing. The only thing holding him up was the wall his fingers were gripping behind her. She took him deep within her throat, making him throw his head back in his rapture.

Every fiber of his being focused on the sensations radiating from what she was doing. This was bliss in its highest form, from woman to man, and he reveled in it. The moment seemed to stop the world around them as she gave herself to him. Electricity darted through his balls, signaling the release of his seed. Then there was a roaring in his ears as he came in rapid spurts that Buffy swallowed with greed.

Once sanity returned, Spike yanked her to her feet. His emotions rampant and confusing in the aftermath of one of the best blow jobs he’d ever received. He shook her, watching from a distance as her head bounced like a rag doll. For some reason that angered him. It was how it had started. Because he wanted back the woman he loved.

He stared down into Buffy’s eyes, always green, but now were like a turbulent sea during a killer storm that would destroy whatever coast it landed on. Like she was slowly destroying him and always had since the first day he met her. She wasn’t fighting him. She wasn’t standing up for herself. She only stared up at him with a silent plea to love her…to protect her…and to let her be this mouse he’d brought home instead of the warrior she was.

Releasing her, Spike turned away. He pulled his pants back up, zipping them, as he realized how close they were to the throngs of people on the avenue. Only luck had kept them secreted from being watched.

It was so like the night in the alley behind the Doublemeat, and he shook with the comparison. Full circle, she’d come, and yet not. He ran his hands through his hair, pacing while wrestling the thoughts crowding his brain. Being a Slayer had killed her three times, it had brought her love and taken it away, she’d watched helplessly as people around her died, feeling the burden as if it were her fault. She’d given up, given in, and ran the course laid out before her, until she’d lost the girl she was.

How could she ask him to love who she was inside, when neither of them knew who she was? He stopped and turned to look at her. She stood, forlorn, arms crossed as she shivered in the chill of the night air. Who was this girl? Could he love all of her? Could she love him?

It took him only two strides to reach her. His hands moved to tangle in the long golden strands of her hair. She mewled, rubbing her cheek against his wrist as tears fell down her cheeks.

He gave up in that moment.

He couldn’t play this game any longer. He realized he loved her. All of her. The woman she was beneath the Slayer, the bitch, the mother, the child, and his lover as well as the killer she was made to be. Spike leaned his forehead against hers and sighed.

“You’re mine, Buffy, as I am yours,” he whispered. “For always. All of you.”

She nodded, wrapping her arms around him, and then said, “It’s all I want.”

It would be enough for now. Maybe one day he would see the light in her soul again. Until then he would let her be. It didn’t matter. Maybe love would bring her back when his hand hadn’t. He licked the spilled blood from her skin, tasting her sweat with the copper flavor, while she held him. It was intimate; a moment of him being the child as he nuzzled away the bodice of her dress so he could latch onto her nipple. He suckled while she cooed her love to him.

Spike dropped to his knees taking her with him. They huddled together on the dirty pavement, the sounds of people walking by only a few feet away, while she rocked him and he searched his own soul for the dream he once held.

It was silly, but he thought when he found Buffy again, that they would become a team of vengeance seekers, traveling the world fighting evil. He released her so that he could laugh and decided he watched too many movies, read too many comic books and played too many video games. Then he sobered. She was the law as she once said. He was her companion. It was the way they were made and she was letting it go. And he had just let it be so he could have her with him.

“Let’s go home,” Buffy said, cupping his face. “I’m tired. I want to sleep in your arms and wake to make love to you again.”

“Okay,” he said, scrambling to his feet. He reached down to pull her to her feet, holding her when she swayed, then scooped her up in his arms when she faltered again. Buffy buried her face in his neck while he returned to the car. Her fingers ran soothing patterns along his shoulders that made him want to take her. Soon they would be home and he would have her naked beneath him. “I love you,” he whispered as he put her in the front seat of his car.

“I love you, too,” Buffy said, staring into his eyes and forcing a chill down his spine at the intensity of her words. She broke the connection first as she turned to huddle on the front seat. He let it go. There wasn’t anything else he could do for the moment.

to be continued…

Chapter 10



Buffy watched Spike climb into the car. He seemed so sad, so broken, by the act they’d committed in the alley. Filled with a need to take care of him, she reached over to brush back a stray curl that fell across his temple. For a brief second he hesitated then with a soft sigh of resignation, he leaned into her loving touch. He needed the reassurance of her love and she needed him.

Scooting forward, she let her bent knees lie across his thigh, curling against him with her hand stroking his arm as he started the car. Neither spoke a word on the drive back to the house. Both seemingly content to let their bodies say everything that needed to be said to get them through what they’d done.

It was too soon for Buffy when Spike pulled into the drive leading to the little house by the ocean. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him to keep going until they were forced to turn around by the approaching daylight. The moment was too idyllic between them. She didn’t want it broken by the possibility of another emotional surge that would lead to an argument she didn’t want to fight anymore.

In a way she was feeling happy and at peace in spite of the pain she was causing him. Maybe it made her the bitch again to use him to feel more than the numbness that filled her. Even if it was a numbness she had chosen to live within. His bite had brought out a side of her she’d almost forgotten existed. Not since the very first night they fucked had she felt such satisfaction in the sexual act. No one could make her body respond like he could. Bringing out the primitive woman inside her with a touch that drove her wild.

Why hadn’t she ever realized before that she needed the monster in him? She enjoyed the freedom of the pain that he gave her. He understood how far she could go before it was too much. She didn’t have a clue what her limits were, what she really felt anymore, what gave her happiness, save him. Yet, he seemed to, and all she did was bring him heartbreak.

Sighing, she leaned her cheek against his shoulder when he turned the car off.

“You okay, pet?”

“Mmmh, I’m fine,” Buffy replied, letting her fingers drift along his arm until she could wrapped her hand around his. “I love you,” she added because in spite of everything, she did love him.

“Do you know how many times I’ve dreamed of you telling me that?”

“You don’t have to dream anymore,” Buffy promised. “I’m here.”

With fingers so light she almost couldn’t feel them; he turned her to face him. They drifted across her cheek to tangle in her hair while his eyes burned deep into hers. There was so much passion…so much life within a being that was supposedly deceased that it made her ache all over. He was life in a world filled with so much death. It was only with him that she could feel alive. Everything else failed in comparison to being with this vampire. She would never leave him even if she had to die to stay beside him.

“I know you are,” Spike whispered. “And I won’t let you go again.”

She closed her eyes, leaning against him, taking the strength he offered so willingly. He nestled closer to her, breathing along with her; the flow was cool against her still burning skin. She sighed. Already half asleep, the world around her entwined with the dreams that beckoned to her. The call of the birds along the shore, the salty tang of the ocean tickling her nose, and the feel of his body next to her’s, all was a sedative to her already drained soul. She was content and knew that as long as he held her she could sleep.

“Hey, pet,” Spike called to her. “No sleeping in the car. Come morning you’d be holding onto a big pile of dust.”

Her eyes flew open as if the sun was already threatening to come up. “Let’s go in then,” Buffy said, pulling away from him. She grabbed her purse from the floorboard and waited for him to open the door.

Spike held his hand out to help her climb out of the car. It was a gesture she wasn’t expecting, but was pleased to have. Not that she needed help. It was just nice to have someone take care of her for a change. Not to lean on her or assume that she didn’t care about romance. She waited patiently while he unloaded her purchases from the trunk, and then followed him into the house.

No, it was home.

Their home, she thought with a smile. She put her purse down on the small table in the entry hall letting her fingers drift over the wood finish of the piece. This would be a new habit, something she could count on like the sun rising and setting each day.

“You coming, Buffy,” Spike hollered from the back of the house. “Or are you going to stand in the hall all night?”

“I’m on my way,” she replied as she traced his footsteps toward the bedroom.

He’d dumped all the bags onto the bed where they resembled a small mountain. She giggled at the sight they all made. Spike smiled back ruefully, running his fingers through his hair and shaking his head.

“Would you like a bath?” Spike asked, walking over and pulling her against him. “You can relax while I cook dinner. Afterwards we can figure out where to pull all this stuff.”

“Or you could join me in the tub?” Buffy teased, brushing against his more intimate parts with hers. It seemed all she wanted was to be joined with him. The hunger was deep within her. “Dinner can wait.”

“Yeah, it could,” he chuckled, reaching for the zipper on her dress. “Later we can try out the new lingerie you bought. How about that?”

“Don’t you want to…?” She asked, turning so it was easier for him to unzip her. He kissed the space between her shoulder blades, and then drew the dress down her shoulders. “You and me and bubbles…lots of bubbles.”

“Hmmm, sounds like heaven.”

Spike turned her then knelt on the floor in front of her. He picked up one foot then the other. Sliding the dress off, then her sandals, then with a smile he drew her panties down her legs.

The tenderness he showed her brought tears to her eyes because no one would believe that William the Bloody could be so caring. The only ones who probably did know, were dead or long vanished. She waited where he left her while he put her clothes in the hamper then disappeared into the bathroom. Buffy sighed, trying not to let his refusal to bathe with her, bring any kind of disappointment to her.

“The bath is almost ready, Luv,” Spike called. “Come on, while the water is hot.”

“I’ll be right there,” Buffy responded, grabbing a clip to hold her hair on top of her head. She hurried into the bathroom to find Spike stripped down to just his jeans. Maybe he was going to join her after all. Instead he held his hand out to help her in to the tub. “You coming in?” She asked, as she relaxed into the warm water. The floral scent of the bubbles letting her daydream that she was bathing in the middle of a garden.

“No, this is for you,” Spike whispered, kneeling beside the tub. “Don’t pout,” he teased, tweaking her lower lip she’d stuck out upon finding out that he wouldn’t be joining her after all. “Just relax, Buffy.”

She leaned back, closing her eyes until she felt Spike pick up her foot. Opening them again, she saw that he intended to bathe her as well. She yanked her foot away.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking care of my woman,” Spike said, with such a serious tone that it made her feel silly for stopping him. “You said that I made you feel like I only loved the Slayer part of you. It isn’t true. I love all of you. I know that and I want you to know it.”

“You’re going to prove it by giving me a bath?”

“I’ll prove it by worshiping you.”

It still didn’t make sense to her. She stared at him for a moment trying to understand where he was coming from and what his plan was. He didn’t argue with her. Just waited patiently for her to decide to let him do things his way. Her fingertips brushed against his mark on her neck. He’d taken her in the most fundamental way that a vampire could. She’d never felt fear when his fangs were buried deep within her flesh. So, why was she afraid now?

It wasn’t fear, she realized, but rather it was uncomfortable for her. She wasn’t used to anyone treating her with such consideration. But then she didn’t let people close enough to her anymore to even attempt such an act. It was easier to be on her guard, keeping people a certain distance from her so her emotions weren’t deeply invested. Eventually they all left anyway so why bother letting them close enough to be able to hurt her?

The only ones that stayed expected certain things from her. Not that they were wrong to expect these things, like Giles holding her to a certain level within the new Council, Dawn needing her to be the big sister, Willow and Xander wanting her to be there as the friends they’d always been, and the Slayers expecting her to lead them. There wasn’t room in her life for her to imagine anyone pampering her. Not an hour ago it was why she’d screamed at Spike, because he didn’t love that side of her. Now he was trying to and she was giving him a hard time.

“I’m sorry,” Buffy whispered, putting her foot back into his hand. “You just surprised me that’s all.”

“It’s all right,” he said, grinning back at her. “Lean back and close your eyes.”

“Okay,” she smiled, before doing as he instructed.

Using a washcloth well lathered with soap that matched the bubble’s fragrance, Spike washed her foot, even separating the toes before moving it up her leg. His touch was sensitive as he washed her, reminding her of when she was a child and her mother would bathe her. She sighed, thoroughly enjoying his ministrations. He finished with her legs before moving over her abdomen and breasts. Her nipples ached from the attention they received from his hand when he finally reached them. A kiss was placed on each pink tip before he turned away to wash her arms.

“Feeling better, pet?” Spike asked, pulling her forward so he could cleanse her back.

“Yes,” Buffy said, wrapping her arms around her knees. “I feel wonderful right now; all warm and loved.”

“Good,” he said, standing up. He held a hand out to her. “Time to get you dried off and into pajamas.”

”I thought you wanted me in lingerie,” Buffy pouted. She wanted him to make love to her and he kept putting it off. She stood though, allowing him to drain the tub and grab a towel. She waited until he wrapped it around her then scooped her up in his arms before she pleaded, “Don’t you want to make love to me? I thought Slayer blood made you all hot and horny?”

“Bloody hell, woman,” Spike groused, but there was a twitch to his lips that told her he was kidding with her. “You’re insatiable.”

“I try,” she said, nipping at his neck until he growled at her. “I know you want to, Spikey. Give in to your Buffy’s lust for you and take me.”

The next thing she knew she was being unceremoniously dropped on the bed. She stared at him in confusion as he crawled over her. His eyes flashed golden as he stripped the towel away from her. Her heart sped up as he pinned her hands over her head. He was going to give in to her want and it made her moan in anticipation of what he was going to do. Her legs parted to allow him to settle between them, but he stayed on hands and knees. He leaned close to her, rubbing her lips with his.

“I don’t want to fuck you right now,” he whispered, before he got up and walked out of the room.


to be continued…

Chapter 11



There were very few instances in his life when something had been so hard. Getting off of Buffy when she wanted him so desperately…when he wanted her… was one of the worst. The sweet fragrance of her musk lingered on his skin, and her tender touch was still making his nerves dance in need.

The verandah was his attempted refuge, but he still wasn’t alone. She was as close to him as when he laid skin-to-skin with her. Inside of his soul even and his hands shook when he tried to light his cigarette. The first flicker of his lighter was lost to the wind, and the second to a muttered curse. The third a success that brought the wanted burn to his body, but it didn’t stop the trembling caused by the ache he’d created for them both. Now left unsatisfied.

Spike couldn’t really explain it. Not even to himself. A voice inside had told him to, and for once in his existence he’d obeyed it. Plus there was the horrible fear that she would become lost in the sex between them and neither she nor their relationship would grow.

Once upon a time he only wanted her in the dark with him, and at any cost. Not now. Things had changed and he wanted all of her. And this time he wouldn’t let them tell him that he wasn’t good enough to be in the light, or that he was beneath them.

Inhaling deeply, his mind wandered back to the summer that Buffy was gone. When he’d fought the forces of darkness beside their little Scoobie gang, baby sat Dawn and hung out with them night after night, only to discover they were using him. Humoring him because they needed his strength and agility until they could bring Buffy back. It had taken people who cared, like Fred, that finally taught him that he really did matter.

That’s why this time, he wanted it all. The friendship, the sex, the whole fucking fairy tale with the crypt for two and all that rot. He wanted it for her, too. It wasn’t going to be like that if they continued the road they were on.

Buffy always fought him. No matter how sad, angry, or busy she was, her fists were there to tease him, love him, or put him in his place. And now he didn’t know what to do with the broken woman that was still in his bed. Of course, his plans didn’t work. They never did. Patience he knew though, and being love’s bitch. He threw his head back, closing his eyes, and trying to decide what his next move would be.

Methodically, he smoked his cigarette, watching the smoke dissipate into the night air, watching the bright cherry burn away at the stick, until there was nothing left. What excuse did he have? What could he tell her that wouldn’t hurt as much as his desertion? She lay quietly weeping where he’d left her, except that she’d curled onto her side. Her hands covered her face to keep him from witnessing the tears that were ravaging her beauty. For a moment he hesitated in the door watching her, hating every previous fantasy that he once indulged in that held this very scenario.

Sighing, he returned to the bed, sweeping the packages from its surface so that he could lie next to her. She pulled away as if his touch burned her.

“I’m sorry, Buffy.”

“Leave me alone,” she demanded, still refusing to look at him. “I can’t take this anymore. If you don’t want me then let me go…please.”

“I want you,” Spike said, rolling onto his back. “I want you with me, but I…don’t want to just be used by you again.”

His honesty hung in the air between them for a second or two while Buffy absorbed his words. Then she sat up, scurrying away from the bed to grab at clothes, pulling them on without heed to how they looked or if they were right side out. Frantically, she wiped at her face, sniffled then broke into sobbing again.

“I can’t change what I did before. I wish I could,” she said, between gulps of air that seemed forbidden to her. “I love you, and I want to love you, but you keep…it’s like you’re playing a game and I don’t know the rules.”

She held her hands out to him, but he ignored them as he continued to sit on the edge of the bed. Frozen and hopeful that maybe the real Buffy would return, but also desperately frightened that she would.

“Please, tell me what you want…,” she begged, then collapsed into a kneeling position on the floor. She wrapped her arms around her as she began to rock back and forth.

“You Buffy, I only want you,” Spike responded, rubbing his face with his hands. Only a heartless bastard could ignore the hurt emanating from the woman on the floor. He crawled to her, pulling her into his arms despite her feeble attempts to push him away. He rubbed her back in long, languorous motions to try and soothe her. “I don’t want you to live to please me, or to become lost in the sex so that you feel good, or…god, Buffy I just want you.”

“No, you don’t. You said so.”

Putting his fingers under her chin, he forced her to look at him. He found himself caught in the storm that raged in her eyes. Forcing himself to swallow back his own sadness, he wiped at her cheeks with his thumbs.

“I said I didn’t want to fuck you…not that I don’t want you. All I wanted was to hold you. Not…that.”

“Because you think that all I want is to fuck you? That I don’t love you…all of you.”

“I don’t think you know who I am.”

“You told me that before…but I believed in you then. And I do know that you’re a good man and I love you,” Buffy whispered, leaning her forehead against his. “I can know and love you, all of you, if you’ll give me the chance.”

Unconsciously her fingers touched his mark on her neck, caressing it softly, and he couldn’t resist. He nuzzled her fingers away so that he could suckle at the wound. Buffy shuddered under his ministrations, her body nestling close to his, and the air was once again filled with the scent of her arousal. And he wanted to push her away again when it tickled at his nostrils. Ignored was his own hardening cock that she could surely feel against her hip.

Ignoring his desire to flee, he wrapped his arms around her, and buried his face against her shoulder. This time she hugged him, too. Time passed in a sweet haze of love as they held one another. Nothing had been resolved, there were so many more things to say to one another, but he didn’t want to talk anymore. He just wanted her to hold him so that he could forget all of his own hurt.

It wouldn’t happen though. This time, if he wanted, he could drag her down into the darkness. She would be putty in his hands, willing to be toyed with as he chose, and she would never utter a refusal or protest. It wasn’t what he wanted. It wasn’t who she was. This time they needed to make it back to the light together. He stood with her still in his arms, and laid her back on the bed.

He undressed her again, but she didn’t tease him like she had earlier. Instead, she lay watching with wariness back in her eyes. He knew how to break someone, how much to drink from someone to make them compliant to his desires, and he knew how to make a pet, but how to make her complete was something beyond his experience.

“Aren’t you coming to bed?” Buffy asked when he tucked the sheets around her.

“Not right now,” he said, sitting beside her. He tucked her hair behind her ear, and then leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Please know that I love you, Buffy…and I do want you with me…here…”

“Would you let me go if asked you?” Buffy asked, shrinking back from his touch even though it was her test.

He knew he should strike her for even asking, and remind her that she should already know the answer. It was wrong to question the rules. Yet, there was something in her eyes that showed how fearful she was that he would change his mind like the other men she once loved. There was a balance to be struck with his answer. He twined her hair around his fist, tugging gently until she had to follow the motion to keep from hurting. Then with his free hand he stroked the bite on her neck.

“No, Buffy, I will never let you go. You belong to me,” Spike said. “Because I didn’t say things right earlier, I’ll allow you this slip, but don’t ask me again.” He tugged on her hair to make sure she was paying attention. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes.”

Her voice trembled, but he could also see the relief in her expression. She smiled softly at him as he released her, then rolled onto her side, and snuggled down into the pillows. She reminded him of a trusting child; the questions she asked him with her heart open wide, despite the consequences she could receive. He suspected it was a side of her that she didn’t show to other people, not her friends or family, and certainly not that imbecile she was going to marry. It was with him that she could put her guard down, good or bad, and he appreciated that trust.

“Stay here,” Spike instructed, kissing her cheek. “I have to go out for a little while, okay?”

“What if I need you?” Buffy asked, her eyes opening wide in panic. “Where are you going?”

He couldn’t help but to chuckle. “There’s some stakes and weapons in the chest at the foot of the bed. And as for me, I’m going to go and do some patrolling.”

“Oh,” she muttered, chewing her bottom lip. “Do you want me to go with you? I can if you want me to.”

“No, pet,” Spike responded, standing up. “If you want to go that’s fine, but otherwise I’ve been taking care of this town for awhile without you, so I think I can manage tonight, too.”

“Okay.”

It was evident that she didn’t want to, and he wasn’t going to push her yet. One day she would need to find that part of herself again, but not this day. Spike moved to the chest, pulling out some stakes for himself and one for her, plus an axe so she would feel safe.

Days had passed since he’d been out prowling. He needed this and the adrenaline was pumping through his system in anticipation of being away from the house. Knowing that part of her dread was that she wasn’t familiar with the house or the surrounding area, he turned to pull her cell phone from the dresser. He turned it on, and then tossed it on the bed. She stared at it for a moment before turning to look back at him.

“If you need me, call,” Spike explained. “I already programmed my number into it. It’s under Sexy Spike,” he added with a wink.

“No, no,” Buffy whimpered, snatching up the phone and turning it off.

It was his turn to stare at her. He tilted his head as he watched the panic cross her face before she shook it free.

“What’s wrong? I thought you wanted your phone so bad,” he barked. “Don’t you? Don’t you want the chance for me to leave so you can call for a rescue?”

“You said…but I thought you wanted me to stay,” Buffy stammered. Her eyes fluttered closed. “Why would you give me the phone?”

“Why would you turn it off?”

She turned her head away, refusing to answer him. Something was up. He was confused by her actions and there was only one way to get the answer from her. In a flash, he jumped on the bed, pinning her down while he switched to his vamp face. Ignoring her whimpers of fear, he growled down at her, his weight holding her still.

“I asked you why would you turn it off? Answer me, Buffy.”

“You told me that I couldn’t use it,” she stalled. “You’ve been keeping me here…telling me that I can’t contact anyone or leave. I was scared that you were using it as a test.”

“I already know I have you,” Spike snapped. “You took me at my word. Look around, woman, the phone was there in the dresser, there’s a computer with internet in the living room, and I leave the keys in the car. You could have left any time my back was turned because hello, vampire and sun don’t mix. Why haven’t you tried? Why did you turn the phone off?”

“Because…”

“Damn it, Buffy,” Spike cursed, pulling her hands over her head and pinning them against the pillow. She still wasn’t fighting back, even though this was the most spirit she’d shown since being there. “Tell me.”

“Because I don’t want to leave,” Buffy cried. “There’s a tracking device in the phone and I don’t want them to find me…I don’t want that life anymore…god, I just want to be left alone, but I can’t even fucking die to have peace.”

“You have it here,” Spike said, releasing her. “I promise that no one will find you as long as you are with me.”




to be continued…

Chapter 12



The girl was clad only in a hot pink g-string as she gyrated to the canned music that boomed from the jukebox in the corner. She was doing an excellent job of selling herself as she swiveled her hips to the beat of old disco music. Spike stopped only for a few moments to watch the brunette, admiring the jiggle of her generous breasts as she enticed her audience. She winked at Spike, and he smiled then shrugged his refusal before he turned to the bar. The girl was beautiful, but she wasn’t Buffy. He’d leave the stripper to the attention of the dozen or so men, some Americans, who were sitting at various tables around the stage.

A bottle of his favorite beer was placed on the bar before he could even take a seat on the rickety stool. Borde del Paraiso was a place he frequented often. It was in the middle of the red light district of Tijuana, filled with locals, tourists wanting a walk on the dark side, and vamps looking for easy meals. Arnie, the owner, didn’t know Spike’s entire story, but knew enough to welcome the Englishman in their midst. Even the sight of the blonde sent the thieves, and murderers running in the other direction.

Spike took a long drink before acknowledging the overweight man who was the unlikely owner of a drinking establishment in the area. He was an American, that who after fleeing from a burglary rap in Oklahoma, had settled in Tijuana. Despite his past, Arnie was a reasonable good guy. If you minded your business, his business, and didn’t hassle his girls too much, then you were okay in his books. Which only meant that he looked the other way while you ripped off someone other than him.

“Somebody is looking for you, hombre,” Arnie said, leaning on his beefy forearms against the bar. “Some black man with a beautiful senorita. Far as I know, no one said nothing about you and the little girl you’ve got stashed up at your house.”

Nodding, Spike stood as he threw some cash Arnie’s way. It wasn’t to pay for the drink, but for the information and the apparent word to not let on about their local walker de fantasma, or Ghost Walker, as they called him. In a place filled with superstitions, the vampire had become a legend with his night walking ways, and his protection of the locals. Spike knew about this, and tried to build it up as much as he could. It was safer for him that way. He just hoped that Robin and Faith weren’t going to screw up the life he’d created for himself here.

Of all the people for the Scoobies to send after them it would have to be the two who hated him the most. It seemed a visit to Paloma, a Curandera, was in order to make sure that the protection spell around Buffy was still in place. Spike always knew that they might be able to find him, but he could hide his house and the Slayer from those searching for her. One day she would want to return to them, but until then they needed to leave her be.

Spike sniffed the air outside the bar, searching the air for any immediate fear, but there was nothing more than the usual anxiousness from the newcomers searching for cheap thrills. For the moment, he could protect what was his before hitting the cemeteries and alleys and the trouble that always seemed to be lurking in their darkness.

~~~~~~~

The axe head was shiny as if it had been polished for hours. It looked almost new. But it wasn’t. The shaft was worn down so that its grip was comfortable in even her petite hand. And if only visible to black light, Buffy knew that it carried the blood of many deaths on it. A dark history to a piece of wood and a hunk of metal.

Buffy tenderly traced the length with her fingertips before clutching the head with the strength of her grip. Once this very weapon would have been one of her favorites. Used nightly in her calling, but now it was as foreign to her as her very self. Lost somewhere in the ‘should be’s’ and doing things the proper way, she’d forgotten who Buffy was. It wasn’t until Spike fucked her again, bringing every part of her body to life, that she felt the very void that had sucked away her spirit.

If only she could pick up the phone and call Willow, or even Dawn, but they wouldn’t understand. They would only tell her to come home. Buffy sighed and sat up in bed. She held the phone in her hand debating whether to turn it on and call someone. As soon as she did though, the tracking device would go off, and they would find her. It was a useful tool in finding Slayers in trouble, but when you didn’t want to be found it was hell.

“You can’t call them,” Buffy muttered to herself. “They wouldn’t understand, and I sure don’t know what I want.”

Except to be with Spike…

It was the only thing she was sure of.

A hundred plus years, and there’s only one thing I’ve ever been sure of: you.

The whole world could fall apart again, and this time they would go down together. A few tears slipped down her cheeks as she thought about the vampire who loved her so much, and she wondered why he did.

~~~~~~~

Candles flickered around the altar in the back room of Paloma’s house. This is where she saw her patients or clients if she chose to care for them. Spike stared down at the objects on the altar. Some stayed the same, others changed as the seasons passed. Religious objects, herbs, photos, were all represented there, and he was surprised to see a new addition of a stake. He ran his finger over it lightly wondering where it came from.

“I had a dream,” Paloma said, slipping silently into the room. “Dreams of the vampires, of their blood dripping upon the streets of Tijuana, and of the small slip of a girl who stopped them.” She made the mark of the cross in front of her chest. “Except it cost her everything that she held important. I pray for her and burn herbs to protect her.”

“Who told you?” Spike asked, with a growl. It seemed the one person he thought he could trust had already broken the vow of secrecy between them. “Have you betrayed me?” He never stopped to consider what he was admitting with his accusations. Panic was racing through him, making him wonder how he was going to get Buffy out of town safely. And the realization that this was his home now filling him with a regret that he might have to leave it.

“No one, child, no one,” Paloma responded, coming closer so she could pat Spike’s hand. “I know things, see things, you know this. You are safe because of what you have given me. You protected my granddaughter from that evil man. Make him go away so she didn’t become the cheap puta that he was trying to make her. My loyalty is yours.”

“Thank you,” Spike said, relaxing. He captured the Curandera’s hands, squeezing them. “She needs to be protected. They have come to take her back.”

“She wants to stay with you, Si?”

“She wants to be free,” Spike whispered. He looked away as he swallowed back the emotions that were threatening to overtake him. “She’s so lost, abuelita. It’s like her soul has slipped away.”

“It hasn’t, William,” Paloma said, cupping his cheek with one hand then patting his chest with the other. “You carry it with you. She trusted you to take care of it for her until the two of you found each other again.”

It was crazy, but he broke out in a grin. Someone was validating their relationship besides them. It was also very sobering, because he knew that if Buffy would ever have a chance to fulfill her dreams; it was resting on his shoulders. A scary thought for a vampire who’d spent a hundred years living without a conscience. Now, every move he made could make or break the woman that he loved. He sighed.

“I know,” he told her. “I’m just scared that I’m going to screw everything up…as usual.”

“Just love her,” Paloma said. “And don’t worry, child, as long as she wishes to remain hidden then she will be. No one will be able to take her away from you.”

“Thank you,” Spike answered, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “You’ve given me so much.”

Paloma had given him the hope he needed to continue caring for Buffy. It was with a grin that he left to do his patrolling.

~~~~~~~~~


Unable to sleep, Buffy left the bed, dressing in silk boxer pajamas before wandering out to the living room. The house was warm, but not uncomfortably so in the darkness that permeated the room. She didn’t turn a light on, but waited until her eyes adjusted before starting to cross toward the kitchen.

The red and green lights from Spike’s computer stopped her. She nibbled on her lower lip while she contemplated whether to succumb to the lure of its call. According to Spike there was internet service. She could check her emails; see if there was anything important there. She wondered though if Willow would be able to track her down if she signed in to her email account. Finally she sat down in the chair in front of it, ran her fingers over the cool plastic of the mouse, and then let her hand settle on it before clicking onto the internet.

Would there be news reports of a missing Slayer? Headlines announcing her kidnapping by Spike, and the subsequent search for her by her distraught family and friends. Then she laughed at the fanciful thought. She wasn’t that important. Not to the world. At the best she was considered indispensable to only a few people. She hoped she wasn’t worrying them, more particularly Dawn, too much. If there was a way she could get a message to her without giving them a chance to find her.

Without realizing it, she ran her fingers over her forehead, as she considered the absurdity of her situation. She was a grown woman, but yet she was frightened of getting into trouble for running away from home. Why couldn’t they just respect her decisions and the desire to make a life with Spike? Because they didn’t understand. No, it was because she never forced them to listen to her after learning of the supposed deaths of Spike and Angel. She had no one to blame but herself.

Buffy sat back in the chair, taken back by her realization; she considered where she needed to go from there. But how did you know where to go, if she didn’t know what she wanted, or even who she was.

~~~~~~~~

Already four vampires down, Spike was whistling as he strode along the cobblestone path of the cemetery. Trees on either side of the path left it lying mostly in shadow. Not that the vampire needed anything to light his way. Amber eyes could make out every crack and ridge in the ancient trail.

It had been a good night. The spot of violence worked the edge off of his restlessness. Now, he felt better except for where a fist had connected with his rib cage. It was of no importance though, because for the first time since he’d picked up Buffy, his heart and body were in sync. Buffy was safe, in love with him, their future was protected, and he’d been able to beat the hell out of an angry vamp that didn’t want to die. He’d won though. Just like he planned on winning the future he wanted with his girl.

Suddenly, a chill ran down his spine, and he stumbled. Straightening up, he continued to whistle as he continued down the same path. But all of his senses were trained on figuring out who was following him. He already knew there were two of them, one female, and they were human. His suspicions were confirmed when the breeze came from behind him and the scent of Faith and Robin wafted to him. He sighed as he turned around to wait for them to catch up. He figured that he may as well get the initial confrontation over with. There was no fear that they would try to stake him because they would never find Buffy that way.

“It took you this long to find me,” Spike said, with a smirk gracing his face. They still stood in the shadows but he could see them. Had they forgotten he was a vampire? “You must be slipping.”

“Where is Buffy?” Faith asked, stepping out into the moon lit path first. Her body was coiled tight in anticipation of a fight. Hands flexing as she waited to see whether she or Spike would resort to a physical conversation. Her eyes flicked over him, the scorn evident as she returned to meet his steady gaze.

Spike didn’t really care what the little bint did. Just as long as she left them alone.

“She doesn’t want you to find her,” Spike replied. “So, why don’t you and your pet return to LA where you belong?”

“Not going without Buffy,” Robin said, coming to stand behind Faith. “We were sent to find her and we will.”

“Didn’t you hear the woman?” Spike asked. “She wants to be with me, not you and your little do gooders anymore.” He sniffed, gave them one last scathing look, before turning away.

“And I told you we’re not leaving without her,” Robin insisted, grabbing onto Spike’s arm.

It was a mistake, because Spike retaliated by flinging the other man flying into the nearest tree. Robin bounced off, rolling in the grass before he hopped back onto his feet. He charge toward Spike, but the vampire was already tired of this meaningless gesture of manliness. Spike had already bested Robin once and didn’t need to prove anything. He leaped upwards to land on the top of the nearest marble tomb, and then laughed as Robin had to stumble to a stop. Leaning against the carved angel over the entry, he watched Faith and Robin recover.

“Don’t even bother to try and follow me,” Spike said. “I’ll be gone before you can catch me. You can try if you’re really up to a folly of wasting time and breath.” He shrugged. “This is the last time I’m going to say this, Buffy is with me because she wants to be, and it’s where she’s staying until she decides differently. Good night.”

Not needing anything more, he took off, leaping onto the roof of the mausoleum next to his current perch. He didn’t look back to see if they were following. They knew it wouldn’t be easy, and would take some time to regroup and consult the Scoobies. Tonight he and Buffy were still safe.

Despite his confidence that he wouldn’t be bothered anymore that evening, Spike returned to town, mixing with the crowds on Avenida Revolucion. He cut through a couple of the strip clubs, before heading to his car parked behind The Edge. On the drive home, he kept checking the review mirror to make sure that no one was following him. By the time he traveled down his driveway, he was wound tight, and had to force himself to take a deep breath to expel the nervousness leftover from his encounter.

Buffy was waiting for him, and he didn’t want her to know that they were looking for her. Maybe tomorrow he would tell her, but not tonight. He jogged into the house, letting the door slam behind him.

“Buffy, Buffy,” he called out. “Here kitty, kitty,” he joked as he peeked in the bedroom. It was empty, and he turned to search the rest of the house. But he already knew she wasn’t in the house. She hadn’t been gone long though. He followed her scent through the room until he saw the open french doors in the kitchen.

The beach was empty except for the woman sitting with her feet in the gentle lapping waves upon the shore. Buffy sat staring off into the horizon. Her arms were holding tight to her drawn up knees. It was only the slight straightening of her back that gave any indication that she knew he was there. Other than that she didn’t move until he sat beside her and pulled her back against him. Then she sagged, letting her body mold to his, as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Spike?”

“Yes, Luv?”

“Will you help me figure out who I’m supposed to be?”

Spike kissed her temple, before nuzzling his cheek against the softness of her hair. “Yeah, I can do that.”



to be continued….

Chapter 13



Buffy couldn’t make a move without him being aware of it. It wasn’t because he was keeping track of her. The connection between them was growing stronger every day they were together. She was becoming a part of him. He listened to the water being turned off, signaling she was finished washing the breakfast dishes, and then to the sound of her hanging the towel on the rack, and finally to the padding of her feet on the tile. Spike smiled in anticipation, putting down the book he was reading while he waited for her to come to him.

“Spike,” Buffy said, standing in the doorway. “I finished the dishes.”

“Thank you,” Spike responded, sitting up. “I need to talk to you for a minute.” He held his hand out to her. “Come here.”

“Okay.”

She smiled at him as she took his hand and sat on the bed next to him. There was such a childlike air to her now. No longer broken, but still not the adult she should have been at her age.

Spike wrapped his arms around her waist so that he could pull her down on top of him. Without breaking the rhythm of the movement, he rolled them over so she was beneath him. Desire shot through him at the feel of her soft curves under him. It was always this way around this woman. It was as if he was only complete when he was deep inside of her.

He cupped her face before lowering his head to kiss her. She tasted sweet as she pressed her lips to his. It was a shame that he would have to burst the small bubble of contentment she’d found. Not only did he owe her the truth, but she needed to know so that she would be safe. Never did it cross his mind that she would go to Faith and Robin. She was his.

Breaking off the kiss, he rubbed his nose against hers before he kissed the tip. He held himself above her by propping himself on his elbows. The softness of her forlorn sigh floated across his face. She rested one hand on the small of his back while the other teased a trail down his naked chest with the barest touch of her fingertips. There was no lust in her actions, only a need for him to hold her, and he gave her that.

It wasn’t easy to find a way to start. She would be upset no matter how he told her. For a brief second he considered not telling her about the Scoobies’ attempt to bring her home. There was a possibility that she would never find out, but he’d learned a long time ago that his plans rarely worked out. It was better to tell her, so she could protect herself at all costs.

“Faith and Robin are in town looking for you,” Spike rushed out before he could change his mind. “I told them you weren’t interested.”

Buffy stiffened in his embrace as her fingers curled unconsciously into his waist. In her sudden anxiety, she seemed to forget her force as her nails tore into his flesh. Sliding onto the bed beside her, he broke her hold on him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered when she realized what she’d done.

“It’s okay.”

It was. Spike squeezed her hand. She relaxed just a bit but he could smell her fear as if it were a living beast, ready to devour her fragile security.

“Will they find me?” Buffy asked, turning her head so that she could look at him. She would believe what he told her. He didn’t doubt it. She trusted him. Sometimes too much, but that wasn’t a point to ponder now. Getting her to feel safe was what was important. He traced her lips with the tip of one finger then tapped her chin.

“No, kitten, you’re safe here. I’ve made sure of it.”

“But I’m trapped here at the house?”

“Only by me,” Spike clarified. “They can’t force you to go back without facing kidnapping charges. You’re not a child.”

“All right,” Buffy said, smiling as she gave a cursory nod.

It would seem she’d made a decision. He breathed a sigh of relief as he recognized some of Buffy’s former strength in her answer. Maybe she was returning to him. Her fear seemingly dissipating as her body relaxed next to him.

“Just like that?” Spike asked, needing clarification to reassure him. He kissed her forehead as he waited for an answer.

“Yeah,” Buffy responded. “You said I am safe, so I’m safe. No reason to worry if there isn’t one, right?”

Spike laughed. “Okay, I can deal with that.” He shrugged as he smiled at her. “So, now that that is over with. What do you want to do today?”

“It looks like you already have something planned,” Buffy commented, tapping the book beside her.

“Doesn’t matter much.”

“Well, I was thinking,” she added, when he didn’t expand on his answer. “I might go lay out on the beach.” She paused. “I mean, if it’s all right with you?”

A sense of pride filled him at how quickly she was learning the rules. Never once in Sunnydale had he ever thought that she would allow him to be her master. Oh, there were the games they played where she would allow him the upper hand, but it never lasted long. Now, she was willingly being submissive to him, allowing him to make the decisions and protect her. There was no need to ask if she trusted him. It was evident in every word and gesture she made.

Spike also knew it wouldn’t last forever. There would come the day when she would be ready to tackle the world again, and it would be on her terms. For now, though, she didn’t want the world crushing her. She desired time to be able to figure out how who she wanted to be, away from the familiarity of her old life. This he could, and would, give her.

“Yes,” Spike said. “Stay in back of the house, and don’t wander off. Okay?”

“Uh-huh,” Buffy said, appearing delighted that she received permission to do something so ordinary. “Thank you.” She scooted around on the bed until she was on her knees, and then kissed his cheek before hopping off.

He wondered if this was the way she was before she was called, or the way she behaved as a child. Tilting his head, he contemplated whom he was dealing with as he watched her with amusement. She was sorting through the dresser with impatience, pushing clothes around until she found what she wanted. Triumphantly, she waved her bikini in the air.

It seemed he had a very sexy child on his hands. Would their lovemaking change with her attitude? Or would she continue to be all woman in his bed? It was something for him to discover, and his body tingled as she put on a small show for him. She slowly peeled the clothes from her body, and then pulled the bikini on with the same tantalizing display.

“Come here, Love,” Spike whispered, crooking his finger at her.

“Yes,” Buffy asked, coming to stand next to the bed.

Taking her by the hand, he directed her to straddle him. He followed the lines of her waist with his hands, before cupping the soft mounds of her breasts.

“Come to me when you’re done,” Spike said. His voice was raspy from the desire coursing through his body. “I want to make love to you with the smell of the sea, lotion and sweat coating your skin. I want to pull this off of you so I can kiss the lines left by the sun.”

“Please,” Buffy whimpered, leaning further into his hands. “I love you so much, Spike.”

“Not now,” Spike told her, pulling back. “Go, I’m going to sleep while you’re gone.”

Buffy didn’t say anything else, but he knew she would leave him be for a while, and then return later to wake him. It made him feel as secure in her love as she did in his.

~~~~~~~~


The sun’s rays felt good on her skin. Buffy stretched, digging her toes into the sand, before flipping over onto her stomach. She couldn’t remember the last time that she was able to be so decadent with her time. There was always someone demanding her attention, her skills, or just dumping on her because she was the favorite scapegoat. She didn’t love them enough, she didn’t spend enough time with them, or she wasn’t giving enough of herself to save the world.

She felt selfish being here. If they had their way, she would return to the States and reject the only man who ever really loved her because it was wrong for her to love such an evil being. Sighing, she buried her face in her arms, and tried to push away the responsibilities that weighed so heavily on her. This time she wasn’t giving in to all the things she should do. For the first time since she met Merrick, she was going to do exactly what she wanted.

Sighing, she wished the guilt would just back off some. It was one thing she couldn’t give to Spike, and even if she could, he wouldn’t take it. He never took the Scoobies all that seriously, not after they’d scorned him so many times. If she could go back and change things, she would never have hidden her feelings for him. She would have brought everything out into the light, letting her friends decided if they still wanted to hang around or not.

A trickle of sweat rolled down her back then disappeared into the waistband of her bikini bottom. It sent a chill through her overheated body. Suddenly, she wanted Spike, and the promise he’d made earlier. With a grin, she scrambled up, grabbing her towel before heading back to the house. The sand burned her feet, sending her hurrying for the verandah that promised cool shade. The drop in temperature was a welcome relief as she rinsed her feet under the hose next to the steps. She dried them with the towel, leaving it hanging over the back of the chair as she slipped inside the bedroom.

Just as he said, Spike was stretched out on the bed with one arm thrown carelessly above his head on the pillow. His eyes closed, and his jaw slack as if a snore would be uttered by a breathe he didn’t need. Buffy let her gaze linger for a moment on the serenity of his face before making the descent down his body. He really was a beautiful man, she admitted to herself for the first time. Well, not the first, since the thought had crossed her mind a thousand times before. It was different this time because she would own up to this attraction to whoever asked or would listen to the babbles of a woman in love.

Buffy crawled onto the bed, leaning down to kiss the soft space of his stomach between his belly button and the waistband of his jeans. He didn’t respond, not even when she dipped her tongue into the small valley, and she decided to be bolder by placing her hand over his denim-covered cock. She let her fingers trace the length as she kissed a path upwards toward his chest. It was then that he finally stirred, literally, as he grew hard beneath her palm.

“Kitten,” Spike whispered, as he fought himself to return to wakefulness. “Don’t stop.”

She didn’t plan on it. Her hand moved upwards to unbutton his jeans before carefully bringing the zipper down. This time it was flesh upon flesh when she cupped him, caressing his length as it reached its full size, resting upon his belly.

“What do you want?” Buffy asked, her thumb stroking the tip in gentle sweeping motions. “Do you want this?” She swept her tongue along the length of him. “Or do you want something else?” She looked up to connect with eyes the color of the sea at night revealing the depth of his yearning for her. It only made her want to please him even more. She rose to her knees above him, crawling upwards until she was kneeling above his erection. “Maybe this?” She asked, drifting her fingers over the triangle of material covering her most intimate parts.

“Whatever I want?” Spike asked, grabbing her hips and pulling her down on top of him.

She yelped in surprise at the suddenness of his movement. No longer was she in control. Not that it really bothered her. There were other ways to be in control as she wiggled against him. His growl let her know that in a subtle way she was still holding the power. She smiled as she rubbed her pussy along the length of his cock.

“Whatever,” Buffy whispered, never breaking the contact between their eyes. “I’m willing.”

“Trust me, do you, pet?”

“Yes, I trust you.”

This time she didn’t play coy, or pretend she didn’t want whatever dark game he was thinking of playing. He smiled at her answer, filling her with an insane sense of pride that she could make him happy.

“I won’t hurt you,” Spike promised. “Lie on your back.”

Not hesitating, she rolled off him, and positioned herself as instructed. Already she was quivering at the thought of what he might do to her body. He never left her unsatisfied, and she tingled in anticipation. She watched as he crouched beside her, studying her body as she’d done with his just a few moments ago.

“On your stomach,” he instructed, not moving as she rolled over. “Good girl,” he said, kissing her lower back as he straddled her legs. He tugged her bikini bottoms down, crawling backwards as he drew them down her legs. Already forgotten, he dropped them over the side. He returned his attention to her back, kissing along her spine while he held her hips. “So beautiful,” he said. “Remember back in my crypt when I handcuffed you?”

“Yes,” Buffy responded.

“Do you remember what I told you to say if things became too much for you?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” Spike replied, sitting on her bottom. He massaged her shoulders, moving down along her back, forcing the tension to leave her too tight muscles. “Use it if you need it.”

Buffy nodded. He was her light, and she would follow him by choice. It felt safe with him, no matter how bad things got between them. She’d made the right decision to come with him. Sighing, she allowed him to roll her over again, separating her legs so he could lie between them.

“I love you, Spike,” She whispered, as he drove deep within her heat. He draped her legs over his shoulders. His hands balancing them on either side of her while she gripped the headboard behind her. The balance of power between them would change again, but only when they were ready, and once again it might be only temporary. Until then she was happy letting him be in control of their lives.

“Mine,” Spike growled. His eyes turned to amber as his thrusts increased in strength. Buffy tightened her legs around his neck while she met each downward motion. It was the only thing that mattered, this fucking between them. Their bodies joining in an abandonment that made them lose sight of everything else. It was harsh, but it was theirs and she felt her body spiraling toward the ultimate release.

Spike grabbed her legs behind the knees, spreading her out even more beneath him. She quaked from the strain on her muscles, but the pleasure was outweighing the pain as she squirmed, trying to force him deeper. She was so close that she only needed a moment more when she felt his body tighten, and the rush of his orgasm coating her insides. She almost mewled in disappointment when he vamped out. He smiled, displaying fangs before he sank them deep in the softness of her inner thigh.

It was the most delicious pain she’d ever experienced sending her body into a frenzy of releases that came one upon another. She screamed his name as she fought for purchase in the dizzying assault of sensations. Her hands sought an anchor on the bed, having lost their former grip, and she felt him grabbing them.

“I’m here, love, I’m here,” he whispered as he held her close to him. “I’ve got you.”

And he did.


to be continued…

Chapter 14



Shadows were filling the corners of the bedroom by the time Buffy roused from sleep. She stretched, pointing her toes and throwing her arms out wide. Her habits were changing. Never before in her life had she been able to take uninterrupted naps in the afternoon. It felt like heaven to her. Except that Spike wasn’t beside her. The muffled sounds of the television playing told her he was most likely in the living room. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was past dinnertime, but there were no enticing smells wafting in from the kitchen.

Buffy threw back the covers, quickly pulling on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, foregoing any underwear. After all, she didn’t need it here. With her hair pulled into a careless bun, she made her way to join Spike. He didn’t say a word when she entered the living room. He only gave her a glance, but there was definitely disapproval in it.

“Did I do something wrong?” Buffy asked, looking around as if she didn’t know, but she did know what was wrong. Well, she suspected. Their relationship had taken on a bizarre parental / child quality to it. The rules weren’t laid out in an easy to follow map that would keep her on Spike’s good side. She wasn’t afraid of him, not physically anyway, but emotionally he could ruin her. Their relationship was about trust, and as unusual as it was, she knew she could trust Spike. It was just time to test the boundaries, see what she could and couldn’t do within the parameters of this situation.

“Buffy,” Spike said, with a voice that would make any child or one of his victims tremble. He stood to join her, and then nodded toward the kitchen. “You told me you did the dishes.”

“I did,” Buffy replied, fighting back an intense urge to giggle at the absurdity of Spike scolding her over dishes. If she did though, this relationship would be over and she would be back to freefalling without a safety net. It was a sobering thought, and she hung her head. “Didn’t I do it right?”

“There was still grease on them.”

“I’m hungry,” she argued. “Can I just wash them again with the dinner dishes?”

“No, now,” Spike said, putting his hands on his hips. She didn’t move, instead she stared at the floor, watching her foot move back and forth. “Buffy, don’t make me force you.”

Buffy peeked out from under her lashes at him. “Okay,” she gave in. She really didn’t want to argue with him, and the memory of the first morning when he’d thrown her to the floor returned. That memory was enough of a deterrent. She moved past him, and into the kitchen. He sighed, and she wondered if it was in relief that he wouldn’t have to follow through. This time she scrubbed them until they sparkled. A weird sense of pride flooded her when she finished. Before, it had been another chore that had to be done in between slaying. This time it was different. It was almost as if it was a link in the chain of making a home with Spike.

“You done?” Spike asked, from the entrance, making her jump.

“Yes,” Buffy said, smiling at him.

“That’s my girl,” Spike said, holding his arms out to her. She ran to him, letting him cuddle and pet her. “Thank you.”

She didn’t analyze the euphoric feelings of contentment she felt in his arms. It only made her want to please him again so he would continue to hold her. Burying her face against his chest, she snuggled even closer to him. He just held her tighter.

“Um, can we eat now?” Buffy asked, with a giggle. “I’m starving.”

“Anything you want,” Spike answered, kissing the top of her head before he stepped back. “Would you like to go out? There’s a little restaurant not too far from here that I think you might like.”

“Oh…what about Faith and Robin?”

“You’re protected, remember,” Spike said. “And they can’t make you leave with them.”

Buffy nodded. She looked down at the rumpled clothes she was wearing and laughed. “I don’t think this will do. Give me just a minute and I’ll go and get changed.” She kissed his cheek, and then hurried from the room.

After quickly dressing in a long, white peasant type skirt, and pink tank top, Buffy slipped into sandals before rejoining Spike. He whistled appreciatively at her.

“You look beautiful, pet,” Spike commented. He tilted his head, as he looked her over again. “And you look happy.”

“That’s because you make me happy,” Buffy replied with a smile. She just wasn’t sure if that was the right word to describe her state of mind. She was ecstatic to be with Spike again, and thankful that she wasn’t carrying a load of responsibilities. However, there was also a niggling in the pit of her stomach telling her that something just wasn’t right. She shook her head in denial. No, she would be happy.

La Vuelta wasn’t too far away from the house, but it was a nightmare for driving, making Spike mutter way too many, ‘bloody hell’s’, before he got the car into a parking spot. By that time, Buffy was giggling at him. It was just too normal and it was the only way she could deal with that knowledge. He was just a man, and she liked it.

“Do you think it’s funny?” Spike asked, lifting one brow as he coolly assessed her.

“Well, kind of,” Buffy replied, sliding across the seat. She nuzzled against Spike’s face. “You’re so darn cute with all your cussing. It kind of turns me on.”

He tickled her, letting his fingers dash along her rib cage in torturous movements that sent her into a flurry of struggling to get away. He was laughing as he pinned her down on the seat.

“Let go,” Buffy begged, pushing at his chest. “Please….I’ll never laugh at your manliness again,” she couldn’t help it. She broke out in peals of laughter as she used her leg to push him away. He was grinning above her, letting her have her freedom. “Thank you,” she tried to say with a prim and proper air, but she was still giggling too much for it to have the effect she wanted.

“Come on, lamb,” Spike said, opening the door. He crawled out, and then reached a hand in to help her out of the car. She took it, enjoying the feel of the strength of his hand in hers. He pulled her close to him, slamming the car door shut, and then led her through the crowds. There were too many people milling the streets, and Buffy was grateful for Spike’s arm around her. She kept looking around, searching each face for one that was familiar. Maybe they’d sent someone else after her. Maybe they were all there, like they were in her mind, badgering her. It made her want to hide. “It’s okay, Buffy. We’re turning in here.”

Spike requested one of the nooks where they could be alone and it would be less likely for anyone to see them. Buffy relaxed as she slid into the seat against the wall. This way she could see everyone in the restaurant, and easily spot anyone who came too close. The waiter came by to give them menus, and Spike ordered them a pitcher of margaritas. The menu was in Spanish and although she recognized many of the dishes, Buffy wrinkled her nose.

“So, um, there isn’t any dog on the menu is there?” Buffy whispered to Spike in a conspiratorial whisper. “There doesn’t seem to be very many strays roaming the streets.”

“Wrong neighborhood, Buffy,” Spike retorted. “Too many people around for the dogs to survive. And not like that,” he added, with a roll of his eyes. “Geesh, woman, you’re from LA, you should know Mexican food.”

“I do,” Buffy sniffed. “Before we moved to Sunnydale, my friends and I would come down to Mexico for the weekend. I guess I’ve kind of forgotten over the years. I was only fifteen.”

“This was before you were called?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Things were different back then…I was different.”

“I don’t think you were very innocent though,” Spike commented, before thanking the waiter for their drinks. He quickly placed orders for combination plates for them both, along with a plate of nachitos for them to start with. He looked at Buffy when he ordered, waiting for her approval on each item. She smiled, thankful that he was taking charge, but considerate enough to ask her opinion. The waiter moved away, and Spike poured them each a glass of the margaritas. “So, were you innocent?” He asked as he pushed a glass in front of her.

“Angel was my first,” Buffy said, staring at a spot across the room from them. “You know that Spike. Why bring it up again?”

He wrapped his hand around hers again. “No, I don’t mean in bed, Buffy. And I’d say that before me, you were still pretty naïve,” He chuckled. “I meant…worldly.”

They’d touched on these subjects before, but never in any depth or with any real honesty. It had always been a game, trying to stay in control of the relationship, taking what they needed. At least, until that last night. It was the most intimate they ever were, whispering desperate words of love because they knew they were going to die. Then he did, letting her go with his denial. But he came back without telling her. She studied him for a second, but knew that if they were going to have a real relationship, a chance at a lifetime, at least hers, then they needed to quit hiding.

“I wouldn’t say worldly. I wanted to be, but I wouldn’t say I was. I was a crowd follower, one of your typical valley girls…”

“Man, those girls were yummy,” Spike said, with a chuckle. “Always so indignant that they were being accosted by a vampire. Like we shouldn’t exist in the world because they said so.”

Buffy flashed him her ‘you’re pushing it’ look and he only squeezed her hand before leaning back.

“Sorry, pet, but they were.”

“Fine, I’m trying to be honest and you’re being all jokey. Forget it, I was…”

“Doing fine,” Spike said. “I shouldn’t have been joking,” He sighed. “It was the truth though.”

Needing a chance to regroup, she took a sip of her drink while watching Spike from under her lashes. He was a vampire. It was as much of a part of him as being that girl once was to her. She needed to accept it. They wouldn’t be who they were now, if they hadn’t been them.

“It’s okay,” Buffy said, with a small nod and smile in his direction. “You were an evil vampire for a long time. So, you should be able to talk about it.” She wagged her finger at him. “Just as long as you don’t start missing it, and want to start with the whole bitey thing again.”

Spike laughed. It warmed her insides, and gave her heart a small lurch. She ducked her head in a shyness that confused her. There wasn’t anything this man hadn’t seen of her, so why should she feel uncomfortable around him?

“No, pet, no wanting to return to the old days,” he said, leaning back in the chair. “I’ve got something better now, and don’t want to mess it up.” He tugged on a lock of her hair dangling across the tabletop. “You make me happy.”

“How can I? I don’t even make myself happy.” She hid behind her drink again. There wasn’t anywhere else she could go, and besides it was her that was pushing for the honesty. She looked over at Spike, who seemed comfortable with this conversation. When had he become so mature? No longer was he the group clown, the desperate lovesick vampire, or even her hero. He seemed to have found a balance since Los Angeles. She admired it. Maybe it was what was going to get her through this phase of her life. She was amazed to feel something that she recognized as hope. It wasn’t something she was familiar with, but it felt nice to have it again.

“You will.” He looked around the restaurant. “It’s not like you’ve had a lot of chances to sit back and decide what would make Buffy happy, much less the opportunity to pursue it.”

“Who are you?”

Spike laughed. “You know.”

“Yeah, I do,” Buffy whispered, cupping his face. “You’re my Spike.”

Wrapping his hand around her wrist, he tugged her closer to him. Her words had pleased him. It was all he’d wanted before. To belong to her, and to have her admit it. He’d been right. She’d been too sanctimonious, and too in love with the pain to recognize what made her happy. Those things didn’t matter anymore. They hadn’t made any difference in the end. He was right. She had the opportunity to figure it out now.

Spike pressed his lips to her. She could taste the tangy lime of the margaritas on him. It made her hungry for more, and she opened her mouth to him. His tongue swept in, dominating, taking what already belonged to him. She threaded her fingers through his hair to keep him close. If she wasn’t starving for food, she would probably suggest they go home to make love again. Sensing someone standing next to the table, she pulled back expecting to see the waiter there.

It wasn’t.



to be continued…

Chapter 15



Spike could see the surprise on Buffy’s face when she noticed the teenage boy standing next to their table. He wasn’t sure who was more embarrassed by their public kissing; the woman next to him, or Mickey, his young friend, who was shuffling his feet, and looking anywhere but at them. Spike snickered at both their discomfiture.

“Hey, Mickey, what’s up my man?” Spike asked.

“My grandmother wants to see you,” Mickey said, looking at Spike but sneaking peeks at Buffy. “She says she has news about your woman.”

“Me?” Buffy squeaked, looking from one to the other.

“Yes, you’re my woman,” Spike said, with another chuckle. Although, he didn’t appreciate Mickey coming up to them at dinner, he knew it had to be important if Paloma sent him. He kissed Buffy’s cheek to reassure her that everything would be all right, and then turned back to Mickey. “Tell your grandmother that after we’ve eaten we will come to visit.”

“Yes, sir,” Mickey responded, nodding at Buffy before he left with her watching him until he disappeared from view.

Spike steeled himself for the questions that were going to come. Thankfully, the waiter came up at that moment to put a heaping plate of nachos before them. Buffy’s stomach rumbled making her laugh.

“I didn’t realize how hungry I was,” Buffy said, reaching for a plate. She loaded it with the filled chips, and then quickly took a bite. “Oh my gosh, these are good.”

“Glad you like them,” Spike commented, reaching for a chip. “So, where were we before we were interrupted?”

“Kissing,” Buffy replied, with a giggle. “But after eating these jalapenos, I don’t think it would be a good idea.”

“Maybe not.”

Why wasn’t she asking him about Mickey and his grandmother? Wasn’t she curious, or didn’t she care? Or maybe he’d trained her too well and she thought she would be punished if she questioned him? Well, it seemed there might be drawbacks to the relationship they’d created. He pondered how to approach the subject without ruining everything that was in place.

“You still there, Spike?” Buffy asked, brushing her fingertips along his cheek. “Is everything all right?”

“Of course it is, pet,” He responded. “Do you mind if we make a stop before we go home?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I’d like to meet your friends. It’s nice to know that you haven’t been alone.”

Spike laughed. “No, I haven’t been alone. More like lonely in a crowd though.” He paused, unsure whether to reveal anymore of his heart. “I’ve missed you, Summers,” he finally said, before returning his attention to the food.

It was Buffy’s turn to laugh. “I still don’t understand it.”

And that was why they played this game they did. He sighed. It didn’t seem worth the time to tell Buffy all that was good about her again. It was becoming a broken record. He missed her fire, and was beginning to wonder if she would ever find it. He’d promised that he could love this new Buffy, but it was hard.

“Do you think I’m a sap because I love you?” He asked before he could think of the consequences of it. It was something he was wondering about himself. Buffy froze with a chip halfway to her mouth. She put it down carefully, folding her hands on her lap, and staring at them for a moment. It made him laugh. “I guess you do. Maybe you’re just here because you know you can lead me around by the nose…or rather my dick.”

“Please don’t be mean.”

“Why not? It seems to be only way to get any spice in this relationship.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, making him feel guilty for hurting her. Then it crossed his mind that maybe she was just jerking him around by crying. She knew he couldn’t really harm her despite what he’d threatened since she’d been with him.

“I’m trying, Spike,” Buffy said. “If you don’t want me here, then say so. I’ll leave.”

“Where would you go?”

It was a question of curiosity. Did she have alternate plans? Had his freeing her from her environment given her enough gumption not to go back even if he wasn’t around?

“I don’t know.” She squirmed in her seat. “You think I’m weak?”

“No, Buffy, never weak. You forget your own strength sometimes. I’ve seen you in tighter spots than this, and you come out fighting…not only for your survival but for that of those you love.”

“I’m tired…and it hurts.”

“I know, love, I know.”

“So, why do you make it worse?” She stared at him. There was a flicker of bravery in her eyes. He latched onto it with all the hope his undead heart could hold. “You said you would help.” She waved a hand delicately between them. “Now, you act like I’m a burden.”

Not caring who was around them, or where they were, Spike reached over and scooped her into his arms. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, rocking them back and forth while she clung to him.

“I told you I’m a bastard, Buffy,” he confessed. “You’ve never seen the real me, and you keep telling me there is a better man inside. Sometimes I don’t see it, anymore than you see how truly unique and special of a woman you are.”

She caressed him, burying her face in his neck. “I do see you,” she whispered. “Everything around me is so cold…hard and violent, but you touch me, and I feel alive. Your hands may be rough but there is a gentleness in your eyes, and in the way you hold me when I cum. It gives me hope. It makes me believe. Before I believed it was wrong, because of who and what you are. Not anymore. You are my strength. Please don’t leave me.”

Her words were true. There was no lie, no manipulation in them, and he fell in love all over. She was his woman, and he hated himself for bringing her pain when he promised to help her find her way. He sat her back on her chair, and wiped away her tears before kissing her. “I love you. I won’t leave you.”

She smiled. It was wavering in the aftermath of her emotions, but the love was there in her eyes. She truly did love him. It warmed him. It filled his soul. “I finally found her, Mother,” he whispered, looking heavenward knowing his mother would be happy that he’d finally found the love she wanted for him.

Buffy didn’t laugh at him. She squeezed his hand because she knew the truth. All of it. Told over hours of waiting for the end, sitting at the dining table on Revello Drive, and wishing things were different. The road had been rocky, but they were together. One day Buffy would figure things out. He’d learn patience…for her.

“So, let’s eat,” Buffy returning to her seat and nudging the plate toward him. “Then we can go find out this news your friend has about me.”

Nodding, Spike returned to his food. The rest of the meal was spent in some small talk, nothing earth shattering or life defining. They ended up just eating off of each other’s plate while they finished the pitcher of margaritas. By the time they’d left the restaurant, they were both pleasantly full and feeling a bit giddy from the alcohol. It could also have been the peace they’d seemed to find with each other. Deciding to walk to Paloma’s house, Spike wrapped his arms around Buffy holding her close as they moved through the crowded streets. She just sighed and let him lead the way until they reached the small house where Paloma and her family lived. She pulled away from him, straightening her clothes that were already in place then running a hand over her hair. She was trembling and he grabbed her hand while he knocked on the door.

Paloma opened the door, grinning broadly as she ignored Spike, and instead stared at Buffy. “Come in, come in you two.” She waited until they were standing in the front room before she took Buffy’s hand away from Spike. Paloma pulled her deeper into the room, and over by where a lamp cast its glow. Cupping Buffy’s face, she finally looked at Spike, “She is an angel, William. So much more beautiful than even in my dreams of her. You have done well in choosing this girl.”

“Thank you,” Spike said, with a grin. “I think she’s rather special.”

“I’m going to steal her away from you for a few minutes,” Paloma said. “Go join the men in the kitchen while she and I talk privately.”

Spike trusted Paloma, but he wasn’t comfortable with leaving Buffy with her. It wasn’t something he could really explain, except to say that he was afraid that Paloma would impart news that would frighten Buffy or be too much for her to bear at this point.

“I’ll be fine,” Buffy said, smiling at him. “I know I’ve just met her, but I feel safe here…with her.”

“All right,” Spike said, leaning over to kiss Buffy’s cheek. “I won’t be far.”

~~~~~

“He worries about you, nieta,” Paloma said, pulling Buffy away from the still watching Spike.

“I know,” Buffy said, with a blush. She looked back at the old woman who was still holding her hand. She hadn’t lied when she’d told Spike that she felt safe with Paloma. Being here in her house was wrapping her in a warm cocoon of safety that she hadn’t felt since she’d been in heaven. “He loves me,” Buffy said, simply.

“You once denied it,” Paloma said. “But come; let’s go back to my private chamber to talk.”

Buffy only nodded as she followed Paloma down the hallway. The walls were loaded with family photos that she wished she could take the time to look at. This house was filled with love, and she wanted to know what a family truly was, because she had never really seen one before. Or at least not for a very long time.

The room they finally stopped at was toward the rear of the house. It was a sitting room off of Paloma’s bedroom. There was a garden outside the window lit up by hanging lanterns on the eaves of the house. It was a clearly a haven for Paloma. It was filled with comfortable furniture, and the tabletops were crowded with religious statues. Buffy breathed a sigh of relief just crossing the threshold.

“Sit, child,” Paloma said, gesturing toward the couch. She lit a few candles then dimmed the main lights so that the room was cast into shadows. Before sitting next to Buffy on the couch, Paloma grabbed an afghan and laid it across Buffy’s lap. “Now, Buffy, why have you come to Mexico?”

“To be with Spike.”

“It is all right to talk to me, dear.” She patted Buffy’s hand. “Many things of you I already know. Not only from William, but from the dreams that come to me at night.”

“You must be important to Spike for you to call him William.”

“It is all he has truly been. Spike was the name of the monster. It kept William from the horror of the life he was leading.”

“You know?” Buffy asked, shocked that this woman knew the truth, but yet welcomed Spike into her home. It was so unlike the way that she’d been taught to treat vampires, and her friends wouldn’t understand this woman’s attitude. “How could you allow him…here…with your family?”

“Why would you?” Paloma countered with a smile. “We both know that he is a good man. He has conquered the demon within him. Not just with the soul, but before that with the love he found for you.”

Buffy covered her hands with her face. Before she’d never wanted to accept Spike’s love for her, or how responsible she was for the changes he’d made. If she had, then he would have been one more person that she would have to take of, instead of being able to excuse away anything that happened to him. It was a frightening concept, and it made this relationship they had even more real.

“Do not hide from the truth. It won’t go away.”

“If anyone knows that, it’s me,” Buffy said, with a harsh laugh. “It never goes away.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Paloma said. “And it will come after you again.”

“What do you mean? Spike said I was protected here.”

“You are protected,” Paloma said. “Just by being the woman of the Ghost Walker, you have the loyalty of many here in Tijuana. They will protect you with blind eyes to those who want to find you, the prayers of the faithful, and the strength of the mighty to keep your enemies from you.”

“Ghost Walker?” Buffy asked. She heard everything Paloma said, and she knew the nickname was for Spike, but she wanted an explanation. She needed to hear about Spike in this new life he’d made. “You mean Spike?”

“Yes, William, we call him Ghost Walker,” Paloma laughed, and gestured toward her hair. “He looks like a spirit with the hair and pale skin.”

“Yeah, I guess he does.” Buffy smiled. “So, why is everyone so loyal to him?”

“He protects us, nieta, from the evil that walks our streets in day and night.” Paloma glanced out her window, and shuddered. “He has seen the pits of hell, and is not afraid of it. He will fight when others won’t, for us.”

“That’s Spike,” Buffy said, with a nod. She smiled. “He was the only one who always had my back in the fight. My equal and I knew I could count on him to keep his promises.”

“He always will. Trust him, and one day when you’re ready, he’ll be there again.”

Buffy stared at her hands, and then whispered. “Is that the news? That I’ll have to fight again. Is there something coming?”

“No, there is nothing coming,” Paloma replied, covering Buffy’s hands with her own. “It is already here, as it has always been. Yes, I dreamed that you were in the fight again, but it was on your terms, and Spike was beside you.” She tilted Buffy’s face up with her finger. “Buffy, you know where your heart is, and one day you’ll be ready. I think for now though there are other things you need to learn.”

She nodded, and smiled tremulously. Maybe one day she would fight again, but not now. Now, she only wanted to be Spike’s woman. Without thinking, she leaned against Paloma, who drew her into her arms. The older woman rocked Buffy whispering softly to her in Spanish, giving her the safe haven she needed while she sorted through her tumultuous emotions.

Things were changing, and she had to accept that.



to be continued…

Chapter 17



Spike could cheerfully throttle Buffy and not have one iota of guilt about it. Well, at least not at the moment. He rolled his eyes and shook out the newspaper before scrunching further down on the couch. In the week that had passed since the night he punished her, life had been remarkably calm. Buffy was being quite domestic, trying to cook, cleaning the house, and in general just being quiet. She’d taken to reading his books, watching television, and even playing on the computer a bit.

It was another habit she’d picked up that was annoying the shit out of him. She was sprawled on the floor in front of him. Supposedly reading, she was lying on her stomach with one foot swinging in the air, and chewing gum. It wasn’t the chewing of the gum that was driving him crazy, it was the popping of it, and the pulling it out of her mouth to twirl around her finger that was disturbing. In many ways, it reminded him of Harmony, and he wondered if this was something she’d done before and he’d never noticed, or if this was something new.

Wherever or however she picked up the habit, he was about to put a stop to it. Suddenly she rolled onto her back.

“Spike?”

“What?” He snapped, not putting down the paper, because he was not going to look at her.

“I’m bored,” she said, with enough of a twinge of a whine to add to his frustration. Then he felt her fingers sliding under the hem of his jeans. She started playing with the hair on his legs, gentle tugs, and then she’d scrap her nails along his skin. Despite the shiver of desire that ran through him, he refused to play along, and just continued to hide behind the paper.

“So, find something to do,” he finally muttered while her fingertips were swirling around his ankles in slow, seductive caresses.

She sighed, scooting around to sit on her butt so that she faced him. “Spike, look at me,” she complained, tugging on the paper.

“Not in the mood, love.”

“You’re always in the mood for sex,” she stated, coming up between his legs while pushing the paper down onto the couch beside him. Her hands rested on his belly, while she met his gaze with a mischievous look in her eyes. “But that’s not what I want…not now anyway.”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, tugging on her nipple just enough to get his point across. It budded up, and he stroked it with his thumb while his hand molded to the underneath. Now that he knew she didn’t want sex, maybe he did. She was between his legs after all, her stomach pressed against his cock. How could he not respond that? “I think you do.” He wrapped his legs around her, crossing his feet to rest on her bottom.

“If you keep that up, I will,” Buffy retorted. “No, seriously, can we go out tonight?”

“Really?” He was surprised that she’d asked. Every other time they’d gone out, it was at his suggestion, and for the past week she hadn’t left the house except to go down to the beach. “Where did you want to go?”

This time she shrugged. Her eyes focused on his chest and her fingers were tapping out a tune against his ribcage. “I don’t know. I just want to get out of here…get some fresh air…you know.”

“Live a little, pet?”

“Maybe,” she replied, turning that smile on him again. “Is it okay?”

“Yeah, it’s actually good,” Spike said, pulling her onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around her, keeping her close to him while he tried to figure out what to do to entertain his little minx. He knew she wanted more than just dinner and a movie. She was bored and feeling cooped up. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he asked, “how about we drive up to San Diego? We could go down to the Gas Lamp Quarter…wander around and see what interests us.”

“What do they have?”

“Everything. Food, clubs, and your all time favorite, shops.”

Buffy scooted back a bit so that she could look at him. It was the glance down at her hands that made him a bit nervous about what she was going to ask. But then she met his gaze, and he figured it wouldn’t be too bad. It wasn’t. “Spike, do we have money? I know…maybe, am I allowed to ask? You never had any in Sunnydale, and now you have a house and everything and…please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not. Yes, we have money…plenty so that you don’t ever have to work again if you don’t want,” he whispered before kissing the tip of her nose. “No more Doublemeats or desks for you, pet.”

Looking down again, she mumbled, “But where, I mean, how?”

Spike tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him. He caressed her cheek with his thumb. “I didn’t steal…figured it was my rightful inheritance since the poofter was my grand-sire.”

Buffy only nodded. It seemed she wasn’t ready for that conversation, and that it was all right. He wasn’t sure if he could handle telling her about that last night just yet. In time, when they were both ready, they would say everything they needed so it could be put it behind them. Her eyes closed, and he was afraid that she would drift away again if allowed to think about the past too much.

“So, what do you say to some good food, people eating, and dancing?”

Just like he hoped, her eyes popped open while she nodded her approval. “Thank you, Spike.” Her arms looped around his neck as she began to nuzzle his cheek. “So, what do you wanna do until its time to go?” She bit the lobe of his ear, and then ran her tongue along the shell of his ear.

Taking her off to bed sounded like a good idea to him, too, but he wanted to tease her, and maybe play a bit. So, he shoved her off his lap so that she landed on the floor. The look on her face was priceless, but, somehow, he refrained from laughing. Shrugging, he grabbed his paper. “I think I’ll finish the paper.”

Spike didn’t even get it open before Buffy grabbed him by the wrists and yanked him down on the floor with her. “You bastard, you are not going to read that damn paper,” she giggled as she wrestled him to take the newspaper away from him. He held onto it until he heard it rip in half.

“You’ve been a bad girl,” he told her in the most authoritative voice he could while suppressing laughter. “I think you need to be spanked again.”

“Like bloody hell,” Buffy declared, wiggling to get away.

Grabbing her around the waist, he attempted to haul her over his middle, but she kicked out, getting him good in the shin. He yelped, loosening his grip, and it was all she needed as she flipped over. Buffy pounced, landing on top of him. She didn’t hesitate as she went for his hands while biting down on his shoulder. Her only mistake was that she didn’t realize how much that bite only added to his desire.

“Gonna get it now,” Spike warned. His now fully erect cock unconsciously sought any friction it could as his hips arched up against her body. With his hands pinned to the floor, and Buffy giving him a hickey, the only think he had left was his legs. He used them as leverage on the floor to attempt to flip them. It only partially worked because Buffy went up on her knees. The contact of her mouth was broken as she stared down at him in disapproval. She gave him an adorable pout.

“Gonna get what?” Buffy asked, moving to kneel above him. “Do you want my hot, tight little body?” Her hand moved from her thigh to stomach then up to cup one breast.

“Not nice to steal my lines,” Spike intoned, seizing the moment to scoot out from under her. He backed away. “It’s you who wants this.” He pointed to the obvious bulge in his jeans. “Don’t you, pet?”

“Hmm, betcha I can make you give…real fast,” Buffy dared, pulling her shirt above her head to reveal her bare tits. No bra…just the way he liked it. She swiveled her hips while her fingers danced along her belly. “You want me, don’t you, big boy?”

“Oh, I’m not a boy,” Spike said, crawling toward her. He unfastened the button on his jean, slowing pulling the zipper down, stopping only a foot away from the most delicious piece of slayer he’d ever seen. “Want me to prove it to you?”

“What are you hiding there?” Buffy asked, in her best little girl voice. She batted her eyelashes, slipping one finger into his waistband. “Is it big? Will it fit into little me?” She pulled the denim down on one side so that she could run that finger along his cock. “Oooh, Spikey, it is big.”

Spike knew she was just playing, but her teasing was making him swell with pride. He loved the adoration she gave to his body, making him feel like even more of a man. It was due to her that he was overcoming so many of his own fears and self-doubts. She really did love him. Shaking his head, he wiped the sappy grin from his face, as he stared down to where she was now pumping his cock.

“I know something else you could do to make Spike feel really good,” he said, stumbling through the words as a desperate need for her overcame him. She knew just how to touch him to take him to the edge and back. Her thumb was subtly stimulating the vein along the underneath of his dick.

“What’s that?” She was stroking the head with her thumb while staring at him with the most innocent expression on her face. “What do you want Buffy to do?” She inched forward so that her last question was a soft caress of the words on his face. Her knuckles danced along his abdomen as she returned to jacking him off with an even slower rhythm than before. She was timing this so that he would last as long as she wanted him to.

Spike closed his eyes for a moment, trying to regain control over his senses. He wanted to push her on the floor, and shag her senseless, but this game was too much fun to end. Not yet anyway. He slid the back of his hand down her belly, to the button on her shorts. “I want you to suck me off,” he said, popping open the snap. He fiddled with the zipper for a second. “Do you want to use that luscious mouth on me?” Pulling the shorts open, he let one finger slide against her wet heat.

“What do I get out of it?” She asked with a hitch as his finger slid between her lips to find her clit. He pressed it, watching in wonder as her face contorted with the pleasure he brought to her body.

“Oh, trust me,” he whispered, slipping further down to tease at the opening of her channel. “I’m sure you’ll be well satisfied.”

“You may be right,” Buffy replied, stilling for a moment. Her eyes closed. “Yeah, I think you’re definitely right,” she added, when his thumb and forefinger worked in unison. “But I do believe we’re wearing too much.”

They were both grinning as they helped each other wiggle out of the rest of their clothes. Not that there was much left; her shorts and his jeans. He held her by the waist as he laid her down on the floor. Bunching up his jeans, he put them under her head to serve as a pillow. She smiled up at him, reaching for him, but he brushed her hands aside. He had other plans.

It all started with her legs, still toned despite the lack of exercise lately, and a dark brown, thanks to her forays to the beach. They felt soft as his hands caressed from ankle to knee. He kissed her instep, and then licked along the small patch of skin that he knew was ticklish. She instinctively tried to pull her foot back but he refused to let it go.

“No, no, under my mercy,” he told her, before nipping on her big toe.

Buffy slipped her hands under her head, tilting it to one side. “The longer you torture me, the longer it is until you get satisfied.” She smiled. “Actually that sounds good. Take as long as you like.”

“Don’t think so, pet,” Spike said, rethinking his plans. He pulled back until he was on his knees. “Come here,” he crooked his finger, hoping she wouldn’t question his motives. She didn’t.

“Changed your mind?”

“Something like that,” Spike replied, rethinking the second plan after a glance down at the tile floor. The bed would be infinitely better for this particular idea. He jumped to his feet, and then bent over to grab Buffy around the waist. She ended up, upside down, her face somewhere in the vicinity of his cock. “Change of scenery.”

“Very nice scenery, too,” Buffy said, with a giggle. She placed her hands on his thighs so that she wouldn’t constantly bounce face first into said scenery as he made his way to the bedroom. It would have been nice if she’d gotten started but then he realized if he tripped, he might lose something due to slayer strength jaws snapping shut.

“Top or bottom?” Spike asked, hesitating at the edge of the bed. “Your choice.”

“Top,” Buffy said. “Last time you tried to choke me to death.”

“Can’t help it I’m so big,” Spike intoned, trying to keep from laughing. Sex between them had always been spectacular before, intense sometimes, but rarely playful. This was something new, and he loved it. A happy Buffy was going to be a fun Buffy, and he only hoped that they would continue in this vein until she got everything worked out. Carefully, he got them on the bed, holding her hips while she arranged herself on top of him. “Hmm, somebody needs to shave,” Spike remarked, rubbing his chin against the softness of her cunt. “Slightly bristly.”

Buffy didn’t say anything. Instead, she nipped his pelvic bone, just enough to inflict some pain. “If you want to stop, it’s fine with me.” She wagged her ass to add a little emphasis to her words.

“Nope,” Spike said, grabbing her bottom, and pulling her back down on his face. He licked her from one end to the other. “Still very tasty.” A sudden, powerful sucking to the head of his cock sent a lightening bolt of desire straight through him. It reminded him what they were trying to accomplish here. He relaxed, lifting one leg so that she would have full access to everything, and then returned his attention to the waiting pussy above him.

Not wanting to play anymore, Spike slipped his tongue between the lips, straight to her clitoris. Already extended, and ready from their playing, he circled it with the tip of his tongue. A fresh rush of juices coated his mouth, and he swallowed before returning to the object of her pleasure. He sucked on it slowly while his hands caressed along her hips and waist. In this position, it was a little more difficult to incorporate his hands into the pussy play, but he knew lots of things to keep her enjoyment at a high. There wasn’t a spot on her body that he didn’t know how to make react to his touch.

It was the same with her knowledge of his body. She curled her tongue, sliding it along the vein of his cock, while her hand slipped beneath him to massage his balls gently. His body hummed under her ministrations, making him want to please her even more. Spike slipped his tongue lower, to the entrance of her womb, letting it slide in as far as he could. Her slight moan and downward thrust was all the encouragement he needed. He retracted and then thrust again deep into her wet heat. Somehow, he wiggled his hand between them, so that his forefinger could apply pressure to her clit, he returned to tongue fucking her cunt. She quivered above him, and he smiled.

The more he gave her, the deeper she sucked his cock into her mouth. They were both losing control; all thinking was beyond them, as they lost themselves in the rhythm of their sexual need. Her thighs were pressing against him, while she continued to vibrate around him. She was so close to orgasm, and he forced her to the edge. He wanted to taste her sweet ecstasy, drown in it, and he buried mouth and nose between her lips as he nipped at the small bundle of nerves. It was all it took as she plummeted over the top.

“Oh, fuck, Spike,” Buffy muttered, laying her face on his stomach. Her hands clutched at his hips while she rode it out. “Yes…,” she hissed, when he slipped a finger into her anus while sucking on her clit again to bring her to another orgasm. It was quite an ego boost to be able to make her cum at his bidding, and he sighed as he soothingly licked the outer lips to help bring her down. “I love you,” she finally whispered, as she shifted so that she could resume her pleasing of him. Buffy moved to between his legs, meeting his eyes as his cock slipped into her mouth. He was the one who lost the contact as he groaned, throwing his head back from the intensity of her movement.

She didn’t waste any time on teasing him. It was all business as she deep throated him, her hand twisting at the base, keeping up the momentum so that he was on the precipice of cumming in only a matter of seconds. Now that he could concentrate fully on himself, Spike immersed himself in the feelings of her hands and mouth. There was nothing to do but relax and enjoy the ride.

Buffy slid her tongue along the length of his cock, swirling it around the tip before taking him inside with an almost vicious sucking. One thumb caressed the small spot between the base and his balls. He bucked upwards, forcing himself even deeper inside her mouth, forcing his hands to clutch at the sheets instead of her hair. They were playing everything to the maximum, and it was when one finger slipped into his ass that Spike screamed her name as he came. He flopped back on the bed, arms outstretched as she swallowed the last of his seed. When she was done, she kissed his stomach before coming to stretch out beside him.

“I love you, too, Buffy,” he whispered, playing with her hair that was lying across his chest in a messy cloud.

“I know.”

Those two words brought him greater pleasure then the act they’d just shared. Things were looking up after all.


to be continued…

Chapter 18



Buffy was clutching Spike’s ass in both hands. Anything to assure that he didn’t move away, that he didn’t take away her support, and move his erection away from her bottom. Even through both their jeans she could still feel every inch of him, rubbing against her, making her wetter with every stroke. She never thought of Spike as a dancer. His arms were wrapped tight around her waist, his face buried in the crook of her neck, while they swayed to the bluesy beat of the jazz band playing in the corner.

The other patrons of the small bar in the Gas Lamp district were openly staring at them. Spike was making love to her in every way he could, considering they were both completely clothed and in public, but Buffy didn’t care. For once, she was completely lost to the sensual side of her nature. A side that needed a creature as strong as she was. She rubbed her cheek against his jaw.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“Love you, too, kitten. Always going to love you.”

“I know.”

“You might want to pull those talons out of my flesh though.”

Buffy immediately unclenched her hands with a chuckle, and then softly rubbed the offended piece of his anatomy. “Sorry, about that.”

“It’s okay. I like it when you get rough.” He practically purred the words into her ear while one hand ran down her hip. The caress continued until he was almost stroking her between her legs. Buffy tensed, and then relaxed when she felt his fangs drag along her shoulder. She was his, whether they were in darkness or light. Unlike the last time he’d made love to her at the Bronze, they were currently surrounded by strangers. She was also more receptive to the invitation he’d extended then. Turning to face him, she slipped her hands around so they were resting on his hips. He slipped back to human visage as he stared down at her in curiosity.

“What would you say…,” Buffy kissed his jaw, and then nipped it gently. “If I asked you to turn me?”

This time he tensed, his eyes widening as he almost stumbled away from her. There was no immediate answer. Only bewilderment mixed with a strange wonder on his countenance. His eyes searched her face looking for something. She wasn’t sure what he wanted to know. She just waited while her stomach pitched in fear that he would say yes, because she wasn’t sure what she really wanted.

“No, is what I would say,” Spike finally responded with a long unneeded exhale. “I hope you were bleedin’ joking.”

But she could tell from his words that it wasn’t really a statement, but a question. It wasn’t a joke. Nor was she even sure she was serious. She just wanted to know if he wanted her to be his in every way. If his love was as unconditional as he said. “What if I could get my soul back?” She asked with tentative words, while she stared at a spot in the middle of his chest.

“Have you gone completely daft?” He spat the question out as he threw his arms out before letting them drop to his side. “Forget it. I think you’ve had too much to drink. Come on.”

Grabbing her arm, he yanked her off her feet before leading her through the crowd without thought to the people around them. He slammed out the front door and in the cool night air. Once they were free of the crowd of people waiting to get in, Spike dropped his hand from her. Turning away, he reached into his pocket to pull out a squashed pack of cigarettes. He lit one without even glancing back. Buffy shivered, wrapping her arms around herself to ward off the chills. It didn’t help.

“Hold me,” Buffy asked, stepping in front of him. For a second she thought he would refuse, but then he pulled her against him. He ran his hands along her back, creating warmth from the friction. “Thank you.”

“Buffy, please tell me that you weren’t serious.” His voice cracked under the anguish he must have been feeling. He tightened his grip on her, burying his face in her hair.

“I don’t know,” she whispered honestly. “You once told me that I belonged in the dark with you. I wanted to be then,” she looked up at him with a smile. “Actually, I wanted to be anywhere you were, but…”

“You couldn’t be with an evil thing.”

“Don’t,” she begged, squeezing him tight. Burying her face against his chest, she asked for something she never had before, while taking all the blame for their past relationship. “Forgive me, Spike. Please?”

“There’s nothing to forgive you for,” Spike said with a sigh. He kissed the top of her head. “Loved you then and I love you now.”

“If it doesn’t then why are you so upset about me asking you to turn me? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Not really, Love, I wanted to kill you for a long time. It’s two different things.”

They shared a smile. Maybe it was time to give up the whole question-and-answer game. Spike wasn’t sharing anything that she didn’t already know. Leaning against him, she looked up at him provocatively, “I know what you want to do with me now.”

“You think you do, huh?” He ran his tongue along his upper teeth, while his hand slipped under her blouse to tickle her back. Leaning a little closer he whispered, “So, tell me what I want to do with that luscious body of yours?”

Buffy pulled away, laughing she took off down the street. It took only a second before she heard his boots pounding against the pavement behind her. The streets were crowded, but she easily darted between people. Her body surged at the unexpected exertion until she felt like she was flying. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs as she tore around a corner, picking up speed on the nearly empty side street. There was no open clubs blaring music, or shops hoping for a few late night spenders. The doorways were darkened, with the only illumination from the streetlights dotting the sidewalk.

“Buffy wait up,” Spike called. He muttered something she couldn’t hear, but it didn’t make her stop. Freedom was beckoning her to keep moving. There were no friends, no father figures, suppressing fiancés, and no lovers trying to bring back a part of her soul that she would rather stay dead. The sound of Spike running behind was getting closer, which only made Buffy speed up as she turned toward a grassy space ahead.

She should have known. It was a cemetery, and through her sobs, she laughed. Always it came back to this, and death. Stopping suddenly she dropped to her knees, and let the tears come. The heartache from the ironic twist racked her body as she buried her face in her hands.

“What the hell is going on?” Spike asked, dropping down on the grass next to her. He ran his hand through her hair with a tenderness reminiscent of her mother’s touch; it only made her cry harder. It all came crashing back to her…the pain, the loneliness, the depression, and she instinctively turned to Spike. He pulled her close, rocking her back and forth; as he reminded her of how much she was loved. “Its okay, Buffy, I’m here.”

Never before had she cried, not like this, not even when her mother died. There was always something to take care of, or something that needed doing. Crying was something she’d never taken the time to indulge in before. In this place of death, she let herself go, let herself become the child that was so lonely within her heart. And as always Spike was there to take away the pain. His hands ran along her back, while he planted gentle kisses on her head. This was safety. She couldn’t imagine ever existing without him beside her again.

“I love you,” she hiccupped. She held his arm with a death grip. “Don’t ever leave me. I don’t think I’d survive.”

“You would. You’re stronger than you think.”

“Bullshit,” she retorted, twisting in his arms until she was facing him. She pet his face with loving strokes until she gave up and leaned her forehead against his while her arms wound around his neck. “It always comes back to this. I’m a mess, and I use you to make myself feel better.”

“Are you using me? Is this all you want?” His words were so soft they almost became lost in the breeze that was tangling them in its sweet scented grasp. “Don’t you love me?” It was a question from her poor, forlorn William. Still so insecure even after a century of being one of the best vampires in history.

“Yes, I love you.” Buffy reassured him with kisses to his cheek. “Always. What are you going to do without me?”

“You’re leaving me?” His voice held not only surprise, but also a desperation that ripped her heart in half.

“No…baby, I’m not.” The unfamiliar endearment tripped on her tongue, but yet, it felt good to give something to Spike that she’d never given to anyone else. It was something unique and special just for them. “Never going to leave you…but what if I…die?”

“I’ll call Willow.” He chuckled but she could hear the agony in his voice. Quickly kissing him, Buffy tried to take the sting of her words away. She slid her tongue along his, while her fingers tangled in his hair. He eased her down onto her back in the damp grass. The blades scratched the exposed skin of her back making her want to push him away. She didn’t. He was taking her to that special heaven that existed when only he stoked her fires. His leg slipped between hers as he broke away from her mouth to burn a trail of kisses along her neck. “Oh god, Buffy, don’t ever leave me. I need you so much.”

“I won’t…I won’t,” she promised, even though she knew it was a lie. One day, either in battle or by disease or age she would abscond to death. It was inevitable. Maybe that was why she’d asked him to turn her to a vampire. A part of her subconscious knew that no matter how much they bonded, or how many promises they made, one day they would be separated again. The cycle of life didn’t care how much love they had for one another, or how much they depended on the other to be whole. It only cared that the seasons passed. “I don’t want to ever be apart from you. I love you…love you,” she sobbed.

How was it fair? Nothing was, and she wondered if maybe it had been a mistake for Spike to take her away from her wedding. They were both surviving without each other. Of course, he had been doing so much better then she, with a home, friends, and a purpose. She was so weak. Not worthy of someone who was so willing to put so much of himself on the line for what he wanted.

“You won’t pet, you won’t,” he reassured, returning to her mouth for hard, fast kisses that left her yearning for more. She threaded her fingers into his hair, holding him close so that she could run her tongue along his lips. He grabbed it with his teeth, biting gently down on the tip. “I’ll always be here.”

Buffy turned her head to the side, exposing her neck to him. The last bite that he’d left was still a dark bruise against the golden tone of her skin. “Take me,” she whispered. “Make me feel it.”

It was the most she could offer him. All of her, and it was up to him what to do with it. It was also trust. Since coming with him, she’d made him prove that she could trust him, now she offered it to him as a gift. His eyes clouded with confusion for a moment then shifted to amber. It only took a second before he was fang deep into her flesh. She arched her hips upwards as she felt the burn all the way down to her cunt. Pleasure, plain and simple, and she knew it was part of the seductive lure of the vampire. He drank with a reverent slowness that was purely sexual as he pressed her into the ground with the strength of his hard cock.

Closing her eyes, she let herself drift away to a place where she was warm and safe. At peace in a way that only he could make her feel, and she let go of everything but him. Her hands fell away to lie on the ground beside her, and her body went limp. He was taking too much, but she didn’t fight back. It was over, and Spike knew it, too. Soon she would drink from him, and then they could disappear forever just the two of them.


to be continued…