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Afterwards, little ropes of uncertainty tied themselves in bows around her mind. She knew that their relationship had changed somehow. It was one thing to simply be having sex with him; it was pleasurable, just physical sensations and nothing else (for her anyway). But to have willingly let him feed from her...that implied trust, and something deeper to be shared between them.

She looked down at the sleeping male curled around her; his hair spiked up in all directions on his head, which was comfortably nestled between her breasts; one of his arms around her waist; their legs entwined. She absently ran her hand up and down his arm as her thoughts did hopscotch around her brain.

He was a vampire, and she had proven herself to be a good match for white-hat vampires, though Spike was nothing like Angel.

Her arm stopped moving when she thought of Angel. What would he think of her now? Now, with Spike’s arm around her waist, his bite-marks entrenched in not just her neck.

Frowning, Buffy reached up slowly to gingerly feel her neckline. He had. He had bitten her so that the scar left by his fangs would cover the odd pattern left by Angel’s mark and Dracula’s slightly lower one.

She closed her eyes and grit her teeth, annoyed at Spike for a few minutes before remembering that she had /offered/ her neck. What had she been expecting? But still...having that scar made it seem like Angel and her relationship hadn’t really vanished forever. That scar had given her hope that maybe someday...

And now that love scar, the voluntary bite-mark on her neck, belonged to Spike. Buffy realized with a pinch of guilt that she had given Angel’s claim away to a monster in a fit of lust.

Did she really still think of Spike as a monster? He couldn’t be. Maybe once, but not anymore. Even if by anyone else’s standards he was. What was her definition of monster? Easy enough: soulless, violent, heartless. Sure, Spike was soulless and he loved violence. But he wasn’t out of control, if anything he was almost the complete opposite. And he definitely wasn’t heartless. But technically, he still didn’t have a soul, yet somehow he loved her. At first it had been simple obsession, but it was clear to see now that it was real.

Then she thought, if a monster could love--real love, good love--what was wrong with loving him back?





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