Giles shook his head, even as he heaved a heavy sigh. “No. I’m certain you’d only get the same results. Ethan must be making it so he can’t be located by magical means.”
“So what do we do?” Xander asked. “I mean, we know it’s Ethan, but we don’t know what he did, or where he is, or even where to start looking for him or what he did, and…I’ll just stop talking now because I think I’m bringing down an already-depressing party.”
Giles leaned against the wall, his glasses dangling from his fingers and a worn look on his face. “You are, however, correct. We seem to be at a dead end.”
“Well, I for one just want to go bed,” Anya said, slamming the cover of the book from which she’d been pretending to research. “It’s very late at night, and it’s not like Buffy’s in danger or anything. I mean, she’s tough enough when she’s only half as bitchy as she was tonight.”
“Ahn!” Xander exclaimed.
“Actually, I believe she may have a point,” Giles said. When the four other pairs of eyes in the room turn to him, he added quickly, “Not about the…” He coughed. “About it being late. Perhaps we would be able to figure this out better in the morning.”
“So we just go to bed and pretend Buffy’s not under some crazy spell?” Willow asked, her voice rising in pitch.
“No, we get some rest and approach this fresh in the morning. Whatever Ethan’s up to, it does not appear that it’s extended past Buffy at the moment, and while she may not quite be herself, I don’t believe she’s in any immediate danger.”
“But she’s smoking and drinking, Giles!” Willow protested. “That’s unhealthy.”
Giles sighed, the sound weary. “Really, Willow, I don’t think a day of Buffy smoking and drinking is at the top of our list of worries.”
“But Giles…”
“No more arguing,” Giles said, cutting her off. “Off with all of you now. We’ll reconvene in the morning.”
“Morning Scooby meeting—does that mean I’m on doughnut duty?” Xander asked.
“Yes. And you bloody well better not skimp on the jellies,” Giles said, shaking his glasses at the younger man.
Xander saluted. “Aye, aye cap’n. See you in the morning.” Despite his earlier protests when Anya had suggested calling it a night, Xander now took her hand and led her towards the front door.
Willow stood. “I’m still not liking this, Giles.”
“Duly noted. Go home.”
Willow continued to grumble as she left, yet she made her way out the door, too. “Good night, Mr. Giles,” Tara said softly as she followed closely behind Willow.
“Good night,” Giles replied, closing the door behind them. He leaned against it, waiting until he was certain they were gone before he went out himself.
Giles knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Ethan Rayne remained in Sunnydale—and he was determined to find him.
Buffy smiled contentedly, rolling onto her back and looking up at the trees overhead shading her from the sun. She heard a low growl and looked up, meeting the eyes of a sleek panther stalking towards her. She wasn’t afraid, even when the big, black cat was right there, looming over her.
Slowly, it dipped its head, its tongue coming out to lap her behind the ear. She reached up, scratching its head, and it purred low in its throat as it licked her again.
“Mmm…good kitty,” she murmured, her eyes drifting shut.
The cat moved down, licking her across her chest, then down her abdomen. Her eyes shot open and she gasped when his tongue settled between her legs, sweeping across her bare pussy with long, slow licks.
Then, her eyes opened for real, and her hips bucked up, pressing harder against Spike’s face. “Oooh…”
Knowing she was awake now, Spike’s probing tongue became more insistent, slipping between the folds of her flesh to discover her clit and lave it with attention. Buffy spread her legs wider, let them fall over the side of the sarcophagus they’d ultimately used as a bed, and gave him better access.
He purred like the cat in her dream, and she whimpered needily and fisted her fingers in his hair.
The purr became a growl and he licked harder. Buffy’s whimpers became shouts. She pleaded with him, for release, for respite, for both.
And when he pulled her clit into his mouth and sucked hard, she broke apart against him, bucking wildly, yanking at his hair with enough strength to take a few of the pale white strands with her.
Spike crawled up her body slowly, licking his lips as he did. She panted, watching him through hooded eyes. He hovered over her face for a moment then dipped down, kissed her, let her taste herself as he wrapped his tongue around hers.
Finally, he broke away and looked down at her with a self-satisfied smirk. “Good morning, Slayer.”
“Uh huh,” Buffy replied, her brain not seeming to remember how to make words.
Spike’s smirk grew at her response and he dipped down, nuzzling her neck. “Did you call me a good kitty earlier?” he asked with a nip to her ear.
“Nice dream,” Buffy said, caressing his bare back, loving the way his muscles rippled against her skin.
A nip against her neck. “Sorry to wake you then,” he teased.
“Better reality,” Buffy said, one of her legs wrapping around his. “Fuck me. Now.”
She growled the last word, which she timed with a thrust up with her hips.
Spike replied with a growl of his own as he grasped his cock, lined it up with her entrance, and pushed in hard.
“Uhn…Oh yeah!” Buffy screamed, just the feel of him inside her a release in of itself.
“Tight…hot…” Spike said between thrusts. “Fuckin’ perfect…” His jaw clenched as Buffy ran hands back down his back, scraping his skin with her nails before she landed on his ass, pushing him to grind into her harder.
Buffy’s orgasm hit her hard, roaring through her, and she acted on instinct as she leaned up, her teeth sinking into Spike’s neck as he moved over her. She broke the skin, tasted his blood as it dropped into her tongue.
The unexpected bite sent a shock through Spike’s system, his body overloading with white hot pleasure. His fangs descended, and he didn’t—couldn’t—think as he returned the bite, taking slow pulls of her blood as he filled her with his release.
Coming down from his euphoric high, Spike was lapping at the shallow cuts on her neck when he realized what he’d done. He pulled up, looking at her in terror and expecting anger.
What he didn’t expect was to see her smiling. She reached up and cupped his cheek, then moved her hand down, running her thumb over his lips and wiping off her own blood before offering to him. He opened his mouth, sucked her thumb in, and moaned as he caressed it with his tongue.
Even with everything they’d done the night before and this morning, watching him as he savored the taste of her blood was the most erotic thing Buffy had ever seen. “God, that’s hot,” she said, the words coming out before she even knew what she was saying.
He opened his eyes and cocked his head to the side, letting her hand drop. “Yeah?”
“Oh yeah,” Buffy replied. “Lick my neck.”
Grinning wide, Spike dipped down again.
“You’re gonna take all the jellies?”
Xander whipped around, his eyes going wide as he saw Buffy standing behind him. “What are you doing here?”
“In the doughnut shop?” she replied, eyebrow cocked. “I know it’s a bit out of left field and all, but I’m getting doughnuts.”
“Um, yeah.” Xander cleared his throat. “You took off last night, and we didn’t know where you were.”
“That would be because I didn’t tell you.”
“Right.” Xander glanced around nervously, wondering how exactly to handle this. Should he tell her she was under a spell, or would that just make her cranky…uh, crankier? He decided he needed to get her to someone other than him. “Um…I was on my way to see Giles. Why don’t you come with me?”
“Nah, I’m just in for doughnuts. I was hungry and all Spike has is blood.”
Xander gaped and sputtered. “What? Spike?” He noticed then she was still wearing her leather pants from the night before, only now her top was an oversized black t-shirt. She couldn’t have…
“Oh yeah, I spent the night at his place,” Buffy replied. She stretched, working out sore muscles, and tilted her head to the side.
Immediately, Xander’s eyes went to the telltale mark on her neck.
Doughnuts were suddenly the furthest thing from his mind. “He bit you!” he declared, forgetting they were in a public place.
Buffy’s eyes glazed over at the memory. “Mmm…yeah, he did.”
Xander blinked and shook his head, not trusting what he was seeing. “This is…I can’t…” He took her by the arm and started to lead her out of the shop.
She wrenched her arm away. “What the hell are you doing?”
“You need to come with me, Buffy,” Xander told her. He lowered his voice and told her in a hissed whisper. “You’re under a spell.”
“I’m not going anywhere but back to Spike,” Buffy replied, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “And so help me, you touch me again, and I’ll fucking break your arm off.”
Xander backed up, his hands in the air. “Buffy, listen to yourself. This isn’t you. You’re under a spell. Ethan Rayne is back in town, and he did this to you. And Spike…” Xander infused the vampire’s name with every bit of disgust he felt for him. “He took advantage of you, and when you come to your senses, you’ll…”
Buffy burst into laughter, stopping Xander in mid-tirade. “You’re so uptight,” she said between giggles.
“Buffy!” Xander exclaimed in shock. “This…this is serious!”
“Whatever. You can take the jellies, I’m getting out of here.”
“You…you can’t!”
“Uh, yeah, I think I can,” Buffy replied, eyebrow arched. “And you know what? I’m gonna go back to Spike, and I’m gonna let him fuck me some more. What do you think about that?”
“I can’t let you do that.”
“You can’t stop me.”
For a moment, they stared each other down, eyes locked. He knew she was right. He couldn’t stop her.
Not alone anyway.
Without another word, he broke out in a run.
Buffy burst into the crypt, picked up Spike’s jeans, and tossed them at him. “Up, lazy boy. We gotta go.”
Spike blinked, catching the jeans with one hand as he sat up on the sarcophagus. “What?”
Buffy sighed heavily. “Ran into Xander. He saw the bite. There was wigging, and I’m pretty sure he went to stage an intervention. We need to go before they get here and do that annoying thing they do where their mouths are moving.”
“Right then.” Without any further questions, Spike started to dress. While it may be a simple “intervention” for her, Spike knew Buffy’s friends would have much more planned for him if they knew he’d bitten her—most likely the pointy end of a well-sharpened stake. “We’ll head out through the sewers. We can get to my car from there.”
“Good.” Buffy picked up a pack of cigarettes from where she’d discarded them earlier, plucked one out, and lit it. She took a drag, hoping to calm her nerves. “God, I don’t know why they can’t just leave me the fuck alone, you know? I have to either be perfect little Buffy or I’m all wrong. I hate it. I can’t live my life on a pedestal.” She brought the cigarette to her lips again, pausing for a bit before she spoke again.
“You know, I bet he was getting those doughnuts because they called a Scooby meeting about me. I don’t want to hang with them for one night, and it’s the end of the fucking world. I can have my own life! I…I don’t have to do what they want, or think like they do. I…I don’t have to date who they want me to date!”
She was breathing heavily, almost hyperventilating, but she stopped when she felt Spike’s hands on her arms, steadying her. “It’s all right, sweetheart.”
Buffy met his eyes, and felt something she almost couldn’t name. It had been elusive for so long.
Peace.
“Take me away from here, Spike.”
“I will.”
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