She still ached, and yet, it had been the best night of her life.
Buffy looked up to see Spike smiling down at her, and she smiled back. "Good evening, kitten," he said, his voice rumbling through her and making her tremble.
Buffy stretched against him again, smiling as she felt him react to the closeness of her body. "Last night was amazing," she told him as she ran her finger down his chest.
"You won't get any argument from me there," Spike replied with a smile.
"You finally got your third Slayer. Feeling proud of yourself?"
"Yeah, I am," Spike replied honestly. "Though I have found something better than killing a Slayer."
"Oh?" Buffy asked, her eyebrow arched. "What's that?"
Spike's eyes darkened with lust as he rolled her over and pinned her body beneath his. "Fucking one."
He thrust into her hard, making Buffy cry out in ecstasy.
Willow sat in her room, everything ready for the spell. The magic shop in Sunnydale had just happened to have one crucial, yet rare item for the curse—an Orb of Thesulah. When the shopkeeper had told Willow it was one of the few left in the world, she felt it must've been fate that it was waiting there for her.
Her hands trembled as she picked up the piece of paper she'd printed off with Jenny Calendar's translation.
"Are you sure we shouldn't tell Giles about this? I feel like he should be here to like, I don't know, supervise or something," Cordelia said from beside Willow, where she stood with burning incense.
"No, I don't want to get his hopes up in case it doesn't work," Willow replied. "Just wave the incense, okay?"
She also didn't want him to try to stop her, try to tell her she shouldn't be invoking these sorts of powers. Willow knew she could do this…
She had to do this…
"I also don't see why we're even doing this in this first place," Cordelia continued. "I mean, she killed Xander. Shouldn't we just sta…"
Willow turned towards Cordelia, a look flashing in her eyes that made the brunette grow immediately, uncharacteristically silent. "That wasn't Buffy. That was the demon who took over her body. We have to make her Buffy again."
"Uh, one question," Oz said from Willow's other side, one hand raising slightly as the other gripped a large, old book. "I don't know Latin. Is that going to be a problem?"
"You don't have to understand it, you just have to read it," Willow replied. "Let's do this. Buffy needs our help now."
The room grew silent for a moment before Oz's intoned, "Quod perditum est, invenietur."
Willow took a deep breath, steeling herself. "Not dead, nor of the living. Spirits of the interregnum, I call…"
Buffy savored the taste and feel of the warm blood as it slid down her throat, reveled the sounds of the girl as she cried.
Their meal for the night was sandwiched between her and Spike as they fed from her, and Buffy stretched her arm out to hold on to her lover.
The girl made one final sound, something between a sigh and a whimper as her heart came to a stop. Buffy lapped at her neck, enjoying the last drops of blood.
Then, it hit her…
She cried out, stumbling backwards and to the ground. Something went through her and she shook, unbearable pain surging in her.
She gasped, blinked, watched as Spike dropped the girl, and the body seemed to hit the ground of the dirty alley in slow motion.
Spike was calling her name, but it barely registered in Buffy's mind. Her gaze was fixated on the body, on the unblinking, dead eyes.
The girl was dead. She had killed her.
Buffy jumped up, scrambling to get away as she felt suddenly trapped. Revulsion filled her, the horror at what she'd done foremost in her mind.
And not just this girl… There had been others. Some faceless, some not.
Kendra. Xander.
Oh god, she'd killed her best friend…
She looked up at Spike, saw the concern in his eyes, yet all she could think of was the atrocities they'd committed together. He reached for her, and Buffy pulled away.
She couldn't take this; it was too much.
She ran.
Her legs moved with inhuman speed as she ran blindly through the night, no thoughts as to where she was going. The waves of disgust moving over her threatened to bring her down and she stumbled, only to right herself and keep going.
Suddenly, she was brought to a stop, strong arms holding her in place. She struggled yet couldn't escape, and finally, she slumped, still. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she shook as she cried.
Spike turned her in his arms, holding her against his chest, trying his best to soothe her. Sobs wracked her tiny frame, and he was at a loss to figure out what was wrong with her.
"Buffy? Talk to me, sweetheart. Please…"
She said nothing, even when he begged her a second time, then a third. Finally, Spike scooped her up, cradling her body against his chest as he walked back towards their crypt.
Spike brought her to their bed, lying her down before he joined her, holding her close to him. The only sounds she made were soft, choked sobs, and he tightened his embrace, worry filling him.
"Okay, now that was freaky."
Oz gave Cordelia a quick glance before he turned his attention back to Willow. "Are you sure you're okay? That got pretty weird there for a bit."
"I'm fine," Willow said through labored breaths. "It was…" She blinked and looked up at Oz. "I felt something go through me, some ancient power. It worked. I know it did. I can feel it."
"So what do we do now?" Oz asked her, taking her hand.
"We wait for Buffy to come home," Willow replied. "With her soul back, she'll be herself again, and she'll come back." She blinked, the world seeming to spin. "Though right now, I think I need a little rest…"
Willow started to tip over, but Oz caught her and picked her up. "Easy now. Let's get you to bed."
As Oz tucked Willow in, he couldn't shake the feeling things weren't going to be as simple now as his girlfriend seemed to believe.
Buffy didn't know how long she'd lain there. She'd stared blankly ahead, the horrors she'd inflicted over the past few weeks playing over and over again in her mind.
She was a murderer, a monster.
A vampire.
It hadn't taken her long to realize why she felt the way she did now. She had a soul. Someone must've found a way to recreate the curse that had been placed on Angel and used it on her.
She couldn't keep going like this. Without her soul, she knew she'd been happy with what she was. It horrified her to realize that now, but what was done was done. She was a vampire, and she could never go back to being human ever again.
If she had to be a vampire, Buffy didn't want to it to be like this…
She turned to Spike, startling him. "Do you love me?" she asked him, her eyes wild.
His brow furrowed in confusion. "Buffy? Of course I love you, pet. I…"
"So this is real? What we have? We…we can have real love?"
"Yes. Why…"
Buffy silenced him with a hard kiss, her fingers already working to undo his belt and pop the buttons of his jeans. Spike broke away from her mouth, stilling her hands with his own. "Luv, you're frightening me. Tell me what's wrong. Please…"
"We have to have sex," Buffy replied as she pulled her hands away from his and finished freeing his cock. He groaned, hardening as she began to stroke him, though his mind was racing.
"Buffy…" Spike tried again, only to break off with another groan as Buffy pushed him onto his back and straddled his waist, quickly hiking up her skirt so she could take him inside.
She set a punishing rhythm, and Spike held on to her hips, unable to do anything but give in to the pleasure of her body.
"Spike…" Buffy moaned as she bucked on top of him. "Make me come. Please, I need…please…"
With a growl, Spike flipped them over, pounding into Buffy hard enough to make bed shake and creak. Buffy cried out, grabbing his shoulders as she pitched her hips up to meet his thrusts, rubbing her pelvis against his in a desperate need for friction.
Buffy mewled in frustration, her orgasm seeming just out of reach. She couldn't concentrate, couldn't push back the guilt eating away at her, and she closed her eyes and shook her head in a desperate attempt to force it back.
Spike felt her growing tense beneath him, and he propped himself up on one arm so he could reach between their bodies with the other to find her clit. He rubbed quick circles against it, knowing exactly what always managed to set her off.
He didn't fail this time. The pleasure overwhelmed her, and Buffy succumbed to it, calling Spike's name in the height of physical ecstasy. She felt Spike release inside of her body, and she held on to him, waiting for the soul to leave her again.
It didn't.
Spike pulled out of her and rolled to the side, and still, the guilt raged inside of her, seeming to grow now with the knowledge she'd tried to rid herself of it. She started to panic, but then, she remembered something: it didn't leave immediately with Angel, either.
There'd been time afterwards, for cuddling and soft whispers. She'd fallen asleep in his arms before the soul had gone away at all. Perhaps there was a delay, time needed for the curse to break.
She lay there beside Spike in the damp cold of the crypt and waited. She'd done what she was supposed to do; the soul should be leaving now.
Only it didn't.
Time passed and still, the soul stayed fast. Despair threatened to overtake her as she realized it wasn't going to go. Sex with Spike hadn't given her that moment of true happiness, which Buffy knew could only mean one thing.
What they had wasn't really love.
Never before had she felt so alone, so empty. She was dead, trapped inside the cold body of a corpse. The guilt of the sins she'd committed threatened to break her newly-restored soul, and now, she no longer even had the one true comfort she'd thought she'd be afforded after her turning.
She turned to Spike, her heart breaking as she realized what she'd thought had been between them couldn't be real. It was some sort of sick infatuation between demons—nothing more. He was looking at her now with what must be false concern in his eyes, not more than the echo of a human emotion.
Spike didn't love her.
She jumped from the bed and ran into the shadows of the crypt, where she collapsed, unable to stop herself from crying again. Spike got up, fixing his jeans before he went to her, kneeling down so he could place his hand on her shoulder.
"Buffy? Pet, what is this? What's wrong?"
"Don't touch me," Buffy snapped, pulling away from him. "Don't ever touch me again!"
Spike recoiled. "Buffy? What…?"
"Leave me alone."
At a loss, Spike backed away, going over to the edge of the bed where he sat and watched her, wishing he knew how to make whatever was wrong with her better.
It broke his heart to see her cry.
Yes, here comes the angst. Hopefully, you'll be willing to stick with me. If you're not, don't yell at me.
Please review.