No matter how many times she saw it, Buffy would never get used to the sight of her own blood. It was a constant reminder that above all she was mortal. Through the inhuman strength that could match Superman, and the ability to sense things that went bump in the night, anytime Buffy bled it was another shock that told her she could be killed so very easily. She had seen more of her own blood then the fake stuff in horror movies and yet it still sent shivers up her spine.
Liquid crimson; thick, but nothing at all like ketchup.
Her hand dropped below the running tap, and she let the water from the sink wash away the small pool of blood in her palm. As it flowed down the porcelain of the sink her blood lost its intensity of color. Buffy couldn’t help but feel that was some world metaphor of her. Like her blood could easily fade away, she could as easily fade away until she was nothing. Tonight had certainly proved how easy it was.
Buffy had tried not to look up at the mirror but temptation to see the damage done to her jugular was irresistible, call it the masochist in her.
Spike’s bite wasn’t fatal, it was deep, and enough to keep her bleeding, but it was certainly neat. His fangs had slipped in and slipped out – as smooth as butter. His gentle bite had matched his gentle touch and she squeezed her eyes shut to try and forget that little fact.
She was alone. She would stay alone. The fact that she was trying to reason that she had felt attraction and desire on his part while he was biting her made idiotic.
The slayer took a deep breath as she stared back at her reflection. She bent close to the mirror, inspecting the bite. Her slayer healing was beginning to kick in; she could tell her blood was beginning to clot. Come tomorrow morning it would probably be healed over, just another scar.
Buffy snapped open the medicine cabinet, which was full of first aid tools, grabbing the cotton pad, she pressed it to her throat firmly before taping it down.
Pushing away from the sink she slinked back into her bedroom, snatching up the phone. She’d need to call the strip club, and tell them she’d need another night off, something she’d have hell by Jack tomorrow, but ultimately it would be nothing more than a scolding her and letting Matt think he was running the bar for a couple days, which was an annoyance more than an ego bruise to the slayer.
Hanging up, Buffy let out an annoyed sigh, before falling onto her bed. Her fingers crept up to her neck where Spike’s mark was under the bandage. There was no pain, both during and the aftermath. Instead a heavy ache, a feeling of loss with a touch of need pulsated at the base of her neck. Her fingers ran over the puncture marks Spike’s fangs had made. Warmth swept through her again, and Spike’s shocking blue eyes flashed in Buffy’s mind. She heard his growl of ‘Mine’ again as she let out an involuntary gasp, almost resembling a moan. Buffy’s hand tore away as if it had just burned her. She looked about the room embarrassed at her sudden outburst.
Shaking herself from the whole idea she kicked off her shoes and without bothering to change buried underneath the blankets and forced herself to sleep.
That night she dreamt of him, and across town the vampire dreamt of her
“Well it’s about time you showed up, I was beginning to think you were dead.” Matt greeted as she walked behind the bar.
“You could only wish.” The Slayer said as she rolled her eyes at him, pulling her blonde hair up in a messy ponytail. Matt was busy wiping the last of the glasses just as she had entered work the next night. She had arrived to work early, feeling it was obligated since she had been out for so many days. The rest of the serving staff was finishing up on getting the tables set up and she could tell their boss, Jack was in the back yelling at one of the girls.
“Where you been?” Matt asked as he sidled up next to her at the bar.
“Where do you think, lame brain? I’ve been sick.”
Her co-worker laughed, a very obvious sign at his non-believing in it. “Sure,” His eyes danced with teasing amusement. “You weren’t off gallivanting with Mister Big Bucks from the last night you were working were you?”
Buffy tossed the wet rag in his face as she spun around to make sure the register was balanced out. “Would you like to see the amount of snot rags covering my bedroom floor?”
“Must have been some bug to put you out of commission for five days.” Buffy glared at him, not liking that he was trying to pry information out of her. As if she would sleep with Spike.
The bite mark on her neck burned at the thought of the bleached blonde vampire, sending shivers down her spine.
“I was sick for three days, and last night when I was supposed to come in, I had…an emergency.”
“An emergency?” he asked with obvious disbelief.
“Yes, an emergency. Would you like me to get a dictionary so you can look up the word?”
“Whatever you say Buff,”
“Just…go do something useful!” Buffy said with an annoyed gasp which only further Matt’s laughter. Letting out an annoyed huff, she grabbed another rag this time from the sink where it was heavy with unreleased moisture and with great accuracy aimed straight for Matt’s back. He turned around with a look of shock and disbelief as the rag fell to the ground with a wet plop the only sign of its existence being the big wet mark on his back. She smiled in triumph before sticking her tongue out at him and busying herself with the last minute preparations for opening.
Before she knew it the strip club had opened up and things began to get busy. The line-up of dancers flowed with ease, no disturbance of customers – however there was a rowdy group of foursome in the corner booth, which Buffy was keeping a close eye on.
Her whole shift that night, Buffy tried to ignore the aching pull at her neck. Every time she saw a leather coat she tried not to have her blood pulsing with excitement at the possibility.
Spike’s control over her was beginning to agitate her. She had given in too quickly last night and it was without a doubt that Spike was dangerous. The way he had matched every one of her moves was unsettling for her. She didn’t understand what the blonde vampire wanted with her.
This obsession with being with her was ridiculous and she didn’t understand it. She was the slayer, he was a vampire; ergo no attraction should be occurring, at least nothing that was beyond first sight physical appearances. Beyond that, Spike knew nothing about her. His reasoning that they were made for each other was stupid and in no way was there a pull between his vampire demon and her slayer essence.
Buffy was happy to live in the denial river. Hell she’d move to Egypt if it kept everything the way it was – in a way she could handle.
By the last hour of the club’s open hours, Buffy was exhausted. Tonight had been packed to the max thanks to half the cover and half the price on drinks. The last of the patrons were exiting along with the rowdy group from the back booth that was currently being herded by the bouncers out the entrance.
Buffy began to straighten up the resemblance of the counter below the bar, moving around to put bottles back in the rightful place that she hadn’t had a chance to put away. Matt was currently counting up the register and tips to take to Jack in order for it to be balanced out.
The stage was empty and the front door’s loud lock clicked into place signaling the club to be officially closed. Buffy leant against the bar with a heavy sigh; releasing all the tension that tonight’s work had caused to take up residence in her shoulders. She rolled her neck, careful not to pull too much to the right to disturb the healed bite.
“We made some good money tonight.” Matt observed as he counted the cash.
“I would hope so,” She pushed herself off the bar looking at her watch. 3am. Leaning down to tie the top of the garbage bag, Buffy lifted the heavy bag with ease. “Going to go take this out to the back.”
Stepping through the back door that led to the alley of the club, she let the door shut with a bang as she walked over to the large dumpster. The slayer tried to ignore the stench of the garbage as she hopped over the puddles using the height of her heels to keep from getting the bottom of her jeans ruined.
“Well hey, pretty lady!”
Buffy looked over from where she stood in front of the dumpster and rolled her eyes. Just what she needed to deal with, drunken guys. Buffy tossed the bag into the dumpster and stood across from the group of men that had entered the alley. Before her stood four men, the same four loud mouths that had occupied the back booth tonight. They looked to be about in the later twenties and obviously of blue-collar work, the clothes a dead give-away in their field of handiwork.
“You’re the sexy bartender, aren’t you?” The one in the middle spoke, a dead give away as leader to this gang of aged mis-fits.
“I’m the bartender, yes…your point?” Buffy snapped crossing her arms over her chest.
The man licked his lips and looked her up and down. Buffy felt like ralphing out of disgust with the way he was so obviously undressing her with his eyes.
“You got the same moves as them girls up on the stage?” As a whole the group took a step forward, lust filling their drunken eyes. “We were thinking about having us a little party, maybe you dishing out a private show.” Buffy rolled her eyes. Did this guy actually think she was going to go with them? Everything about them screamed crazy wild bunch that you did not want to mess with, and to Buffy they were wasting her time.
“Thanks, but no thanks boys.” She stepped around them and began to head back to the door hoping her lack of hiding her disgust in them would be enough to get rid of them. Though when a meaty hand clamped around her wrist she knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. She looked down at the hand around her wrist of the leader. Their hungry lusty gazes had only increased. However behind that she saw the true evil in them and sighed. Things never could go easy for her. “You’re going to want to let go of me.” She said slowly through gritted teeth. The man’s touch alone was making her sick, but deep in the pit of her stomach she felt something worming it’s way to want to make her puke. Her neck flared up with heat as her heartbeat began to really race with adrenaline.
“Now why would we want to go do a thing like that?” The one to the right of Mr. handsy asked. He gave her wink before elbowing his buddy.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Grabbing back onto the wrist of the leader’s, Buffy moved so that she could twist his arm painfully behind his back earning a very unmanly scream from him. She smiled in victory giving it another hard pull forcing him to bend over and be that mercy of her hands. “When a girl says no, she means no!” With that she pushed him away from her causing him to curl up on the floor cradling his arm close to him.
Before she knew it, guy number two began to rush her. She used his momentum, grabbing him by the shoulders to bring him closer to meet her bent knee, which she had no problem with using a bit of extra force. As he doubled over in pain and her arm came to dish out a thump to his back, Buffy lost sight of the other two.
Just as her second attacker hit the ground, Buffy heard the whoosh of something flying in the air, followed by blinding pain to the back of her head. She fell to her knees disorientated, but was quickly met with another crack against her back, forcing her to fall to the ground completely.
“Read ‘em and weep boys, full house.” Spike chuckled as he laid out his cards to reveal his winning hand before his minions. Together he and five of his loyal followers sat around a round table playing poker, something Spike liked to occupy his slow nights with.
The minions groaned out of agony at their loss, tossing their cards into a pile while Spike scooped in the pot of his winning money.
He chuckled as the mumbled. It had been a lazy night. He was still high off the blood of the Slayer he had tasted the night before. Spike’s arousal grew again at the memory of last night flooded his noggin.
Their dance had been beautiful. As if all a planned choreograph, an insight into their mating dance. His demon had picked a rightful mate, not mattering that she was a Slayer, but all in all ironically perfectly fitting. Spike lived for the fight, the passion behind a real good one. And, who better than to be a mate to William the Bloody than a Slayer? Sure, it was a crime against nature, but Spike was not one to pass up following his gut, his blood. All of which screamed to make Buffy, the Vampire Slayer his mate for eternity.
Silly chit, pushed him away because of past hurts and heartbreaks, of course at the hands of his grandsire Ol’ Peaches. She obviously had no clue what came with being mated to a vampire. While Spike himself had never really heard of a mating taking place between a vamp and human, he knew enough to know that heartbreak was in no part of the contract of a mate. A lifetime of great love, and assurance of never being alone in the world, something Spike was looking for. Never again would she be alone, and the strength he could bring her was something he only could imagine if she would just let the mating take place.
Spike’s demon growled angrily at only being able to stake the most basics of claim, a familial bond, nothing close to the proximity of being truly mated. However it rationed that it was the first step in implanting it.
Since Spike had placed the bond between him and her the night before Spike’s need for her had grown with each moment that he felt her. He could feel anything she felt. She had felt her fear as she ran from him, something that unsettled Spike until he was able to sense her peaceful state of sleep.
“Your deal, boss?” One of his minions asked Spike. Spike nodded allowing the other to deal. The minions had sensed the new familial bond to Spike, at least the ones that Spike had made. They had sensed the connection between him and a woman and all that it screamed of ‘Off Limits’ from Spike’s demon the second he had arrived back at the house the night before. The ones that Spike hadn’t made, and had pledged loyalty upon his arrival in town were the only ones that knew of the Slayer and the danger she brought. Though they brought no argument against the Master Vampire. If this meant their undead life span being a little longer with the mating of the Slayer to their master than they’d encourage it in everyway.
Spike grabbed his newly dealt cards and looked them over grimacing at the crap hand he was not so lucky to be handed. Suddenly something sparked in the back of his mind. Annoyance.
He had felt it before. Random moments all night since he had felt Buffy awaken, but it was ladled with fatigue. Spike could tell she was at work, with the annoyance and disgust she felt every time some idiotic bloke tried to hit on her. Spike would become enraged with jealousy if he didn’t feel her heady denial. However this feeling of annoyance was quite different. Stronger, and laced with a tinge of fear. Spike clenched his jaw as adrenaline that had filled Buffy was now filling him and the itch for a fight made his fingers become twitchy.
“You okay, boss?” The minion, Lucas, asked from beside him.
“Bloody hell!” Spike growled when suddenly all Spike could feel was mass and mass amounts of fear flowing into him. He growled when pain was accompanied. “MINE!” His eyes glowed yellow as his demon came forth at the outrage that Buffy’s pain was coursing through her. Someone had dared to touch what was his. Shoving the table into a messy heap along with everything on top of it, Spike stood and stormed out into the night, intent on finding whatever was hurting his future mate.
Buffy choked for breath as she felt the wind being knocked out of her as she hit the cement of the alley ground. Her neck craned to see one of the other two holding a heavy piece of plywood, his obvious weapon and knocking the slayer down. Bringing in sharp gasps of air, Buffy gained enough momentum to kick the feet out from under him, knocking him down to her level. She struggled to her knees trying to get up and on her A-game as quickly as possible when suddenly the fourth kicked her hard in the middle of her chest sending her back down to the ground.
The slayer cried out in pain as she felt 2 of her ribs break and breathing became even more of an issue. But she wouldn’t let that stop her, and she certainly wasn’t about to let four humans bring her down. By the time she had gotten back to her feet, the leader had also straightened back up.
“You’re going to pay for that, bitch!” He yelled as he suddenly backhanded her hard across the face. Had Buffy not been weakened by the beatings the other two had dealt, that hit would have felt like a fly was trying to bring her down. However her head snapped back and her cheek flamed with pain.
These guys were certainly okay with hitting a woman, which only pissed Buffy off even more. Buffy was able to deal her own hit to the leader before two of the other guys grabbed her pulled her back down against the cement pinning each of her arms down.
Buffy cried out, kicking violently and trying to buck the ones that pinned her arms down, off of her. She shrieked in anguish as the third tried to stop her legs and the leader straddled her waist. Her body was already weakened by their violent attack and his weight on her smaller petite frame was bound to break her.
“STOP STRUGGLING!” The leader yelled as he delivered another backhand across her face making the Slayer see stars. Buffy coughed up blood, which she spit into the face of the man on top of her. She could smell his foul breath covered in booze and she wanted to rip him off of her with all of her power if only she could just get free.
“Get off of me!” Tears streamed down her face as she saw the man reach for his belt and with a last bit of energy she kicked out sending the third man flying against the wall.
“Hold her tight boys, this one’s feisty!”
Buffy’s stomach turned at the idea of what they were about to do. How these four guys had been able to get the upper hand was as confusing as anything in this world.
She wiggled and bucked until finally she was able to break her wrist free allowing her to send a punch to the other that held her wrist down. She kicked the one on top of her off, and began to crawl, desperately trying to get away. Just as she was about to get free, a sharp pain pierced her lower abdomen. She looked down, to see the pocket knife suddenly protruding from her stomach.
“Oh my god! Man! What did you do?” She heard one of them yell. Her vision began to blur as her blood seeped through her wound. She dropped to her knees screaming in agony at the wound, slowly pulling the knife from her body. She looked down at her hands she dropped the knife, and for the second time, they were covered in blood. Only this time, more and more blood and it wasn’t stopping as quickly.
“She was going to get away!”
“SO! You didn’t have to stab her! Oh my god!”
“What the hell is going on out here?” Buffy fell to the ground completely too weak to do anything. She heard Matt from the back door followed by the running foursome heading to the mouth of the alley. “OH MY GOD, BUFFY?!?” Through the haze she felt Matt running up to her and pressing his hand in place of her own against her stomach to try and stop the bleeding. “JACK! Call 911!”
Tears continued down Buffy’s cheeks as Matt tried to reassure her that an ambulance was on the way. She shivered from the cold and as she slipped into unconsciousness, she uttered the thing that she felt she needed the most, “Spike…”
Spike had never in his un-life ran so fast before. His boots pounded against the cement as he raced down the streets towards her. He had no clue where he was going, instead just following his nose and his gut.
Buffy’s fear was all that kept him going, it was heart wrenching and his demon was demanding justice to whatever threatened her.
Before he knew it he was coming up against the building to Buffy’s work. Her scent was heavy in the area. He followed around the corner where he suddenly saw an ambulance pulling out onto the street and off in the direction to Sunnydale General Hospital. Continuing to follow his nose, his side hopeful at what he might find – hopefully a perfectly fine Slayer. Standing at the mouth the alley, Spike saw a few guys at the back entrance talking to some police officers obviously taking a report. On the ground however was a large puddle of blood. Slayers blood.