Her frowned turned into a smile as she took a moment to nestle under the leather. She loved how thoughtful he was, always taking the time to do little things like this. And whenever they fed together, he always let her take the last drink of blood.
He really was the perfect boyfriend.
She got down from the sarcophagus, neatly draping the duster over it before she picked up his red overshirt from the ground and put it on. "Spike?" she called out looking around the crypt and frowning when she didn't see him. The sun hadn't gone down completely, so she didn't think he could have gone out.
"Down here, luv," she heard him call back. "There's a trap door."
Buffy followed the sound of his voice, finding the trap door he'd mentioned. She jumped down, gasping when she saw there was a lower level to the crypt.
Spike had filled it with candles, the low light perfect for her demon's eyes.
And it wasn't the only thing he'd added…
Her jaw dropped as she saw Spike, putting the finishing touches on assembling a bed.
A large, wrought-iron canopy bed.
He looked up at her. "It's not the same one from last night, but I saw this one in a warehouse not too long ago, and thought about it again when you said you'd always wanted one. There's sewer tunnels down here, so I was able to make it out there and find a X'arluug demon to help me lug it over." A nervous expression came over his face. "Is it good enough for you, Buffy? Because if it's not, I can find another one, or that one, or whatever you wanted, just tell me."
"Spike, it's perfect," Buffy said, genuinely moved that he'd do something like this for her. "Thank you."
Spike stilled completely at her words, the expression on his face one of awe. Drusilla had rarely thanked him for anything he'd done for her—if ever. Most of the time she'd either threw a fit because he hadn't done it right or she'd grown tired of whatever it was she'd wanted earlier and demanded something new. "I wanted to do something for you," he told her, the look on his face almost boyish.
Buffy walked over to Spike and knelt down beside him. "I really appreciate this, baby. You've been so good to me these past couple of days, made me happier than I've ever been. I'm so grateful that I got to be with you instead of Angelus. You, well, you told me last night that Angelus was an idiot for not treating me like I was a treasure in his bed, and that's exactly how you've treated me—like a treasure."
"It's what you are to me, Buffy," he said softly, his hand ghosting over her cheek.
She leaned in and kissed him, feeling nothing but gratitude for having him in her life. The few days she'd spent with Angelus had been less than pleasant, making her fear that was all there was to being a vampire. She didn't like always being kept down, treated like nothing more than a pet. But with Spike, she felt like an equal, a partner, and she appreciated the respect he showed her.
Torturing humans, she got. They were food and oh so fun to break. But what a lonely existence this would be if she spent an eternity with no affection at all. Didn't it make sense to form relationships with their own kind?
Buffy pulled away with a smile on her face. "Hurry up and finish the bed, Spike. I wanna break it in."
Grinning, Spike set back to work.
The crowd in the Bronze parted for the leather-clad blond couple as they walked towards the balcony, the pair of them radiating a dangerous beauty. Once up the stairs, Buffy looked over the edge of the railing, Spike's arms going around her waist, holding her against his firm body.
"See anyone you like, pet?" he asked, his voice smooth against her ear.
"Her," Buffy said, pointing towards a dark-haired girl exiting out the alley door. "I want to take her home with us."
"Anything my girl wants," Spike replied before he led her back down and after their prey.
Spike definitely had to say this bed had been a good find. The bars of the headboard were perfect for holding chains, as their dinner for the night had found out the hard way.
He'd let Buffy call the shots, wanting to give her the freedom to explore her newfound dark side. She'd proven herself to be as creative as she was sensual, never failing to turn him on.
When she'd asked him to fuck her while she fed on the girl, the suggestion alone had him salivating.
Beneath them, the chained girl struggled as Buffy drank from the wound in her neck. The female vampire was perched over her prey on all fours, allowing Spike to take her from behind as he watched her feed.
The girl cried, begged for mercy, but neither of the vampires was inclined to show her any.
Spike remembered how Buffy had encouraged him to feed from Harmony, and he leaned down to whisper against her ear. "Drink from her breast, luv. I want to see your mouth around her tit."
He knew the idea aroused her when he felt her inner muscles clench around him before she pulled away from the girl's neck and moved her head down. The girl screamed as Buffy's fangs pierced her breast, tearing through both the mound and the nipple.
Spike moaned, the sight spurring him on as he began to thrust harder. Buffy mewled around the girl's breast until her orgasm slammed through her, and she lifted her head to scream Spike's name. He followed her over, the feeling of her coming around him to intense for him to hold back.
He rolled her over then, cradling her in his arms. Beside them, the girl still cried, though now she was too weak to struggle. "Finish her off, baby," Buffy said, stroking a hand down Spike's chest. "I left some for you. I want to watch you feed."
"You're so good to me," Spike said, kissing Buffy's forehead tenderly before he moved over the girl and drank.
"I really like this bed," Buffy said as she lay wrapped in the satin sheets and curled against Spike's body.
"Mmm, me, too," Spike replied, nuzzling his nose against her hair languidly. Once they'd finished with their dinner, he'd dumped the corpse out into the sewers before rejoining Buffy in the bed. Now, the sun had almost begun to rise, and he was feeling the pull towards sleep.
"I like this crypt, too," Buffy told him. "It feels sort of…homey. Can we stay here for a little while?"
"You aren't itching to get out of ol' Sunnyhell?"
"Not really. I can see why vampires were always so drawn to it, even with a resident Slayer. I mean, I don't think I'll want to stay here forever. I'd like to see more of the world. But for now, this is good."
"Then we'll stay," Spike told her, his hand running down her arm. "Whatever my girl wants, she gets."
Buffy smiled, her eyes sliding closed. "I like being your girl."
Spike pressed a kiss against her head. "I like it too, pet. More than I can even say."
Willow had felt a strange sort of uselessness ever since she'd seen Buffy. For almost two years, her life had centered around helping the Slayer, but now—what did she have left?
Her best friends were dead; she was alone. Giles had retained his post as high school librarian, yet Willow had a feeling he was only waiting out the school year before he'd return to England. He seemed at least in part reluctant to simply leave, and Willow wondered if he wanted to see with his own eyes what she'd told him.
Or perhaps, he was hunting her, wanting to put an end to the demon who had taken over the body of his Slayer. He hadn't said anything about it, but then again, he'd said very little of anything recently.
They'd buried Xander, and Willow had visited his grave every day since. It seemed strange to her that she couldn't do the same for Buffy as well. Her friend was dead, yet her body continued to walk, animated by the demon that had taken it over.
Officially, Buffy was still listed as "missing," and Willow knew it was a case the police department would never officially be able to able to solve, though she was sure Buffy was far from the only case like it in Sunnydale. On the Hellmouth, the police probably learned to turn a blind eye to the people who turned up missing and were never seen again.
Principal Snyder had also been found dead in his home, and while this had turned out to be the source of quite a bit of joy throughout the student body of Sunnydale High, Willow couldn't help but feel sick as she thought about who had probably done it. She'd gone against her own better judgment and hacked into the coroner's website, and the photos they'd had made her have to run to the bathroom to throw up.
She had to keep reminding herself it wasn't really Buffy who had done those things. Buffy wasn't capable of doing them. Not the girl she'd laughed with, cried with, shared her deepest secrets with. No, not Buffy. A demon. Just a demon.
A demon in her friend's skin.
They hadn't seen her since the night she'd come to Willow's home, nor had they seen Angelus. Willow wondered if perhaps they'd left town, Angelus's business in Sunnydale was done now that he'd finished his plans for Buffy. She'd expected them to keep coming after her, to torment her the way Angelus had tormented Buffy when she'd been alive, but there'd been nothing.
Still, Willow had made a point to be home before dark, as had Oz and even Cordelia.
Apparently, Harmony had also been found, in a mansion on Crawford Street, gruesomely murdered. Even with the rift between the two girls as of late, that right on top of Xander's murder had made the once extroverted cheerleader withdrawn.
Willow didn't go to the Bronze anymore, not even to see Oz perform. Part of it was because the memories of the times she'd spent there with Xander and Buffy would be strong, but much of it was because she was afraid if she was there, she'd see Buffy. She knew it was a popular feeding ground for the local vamps, and if Buffy had stayed in town, odds were she'd go there, at least once or twice.
It Willow saw her, she wasn't sure what she'd do. Even with her anger of Xander's death and the knowledge her friend was, in reality, gone, she wasn't sure she could drive a stake through something that looked like Buffy.
Her one spot of anything akin to happiness was getting to teach what had been Ms. Calendar's computer class. The new principal they'd brought in to take Snyder's place had agreed to let Willow continue teaching the class, stating that it seemed to be working well, and since teachers didn't seem to be applying for positions at Sunnydale High—if anything, the ones there now were searching for new schools—then it would be best to allow Willow to remain there.
She was only a few credits shy of graduating anyway, with all the extra classes she'd taken over the past couple of years. Overachieving did have its perks.
So she stayed in. Did her homework. Wrote lesson plans. It was like her life before Buffy, only lonelier now. Colder.
She would give anything to make it all right again.
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