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Author's Chapter Notes:
Sorry for the delay in updates, my muse was depressed by the lack of reviews... and it buggered off to greener pastures. LOL
Thanks again to Jill, (Big Hugs) she always encourages me and never yells, even when I get slack.
Buffy stirred slowly, her body more relaxed than she had felt
in years.

Opening her eyes, she smiled as she recognized the muscled chest against which she was laying.

Glancing upwards, her eyes swept across the face of the vampire who’s arms she rested in and a familiar and delicious warmth bloomed in the pit of her stomach, as she realized that her mate was apparently still fast asleep.

Smirking, an evil grin formed on her lips as it occurred to the newly mated slayer that Spike was a very very deep sleeper.

Moving carefully and doing her best to project calm and sleep like thoughts, the slayer slowly slid down until her intended prey was in sight.


Eyes darting upwards, she carefully and gently maneuvered his legs until she was satisfied that he was positioned correctly for her intended attack.

Stifling the mischievous giggle that threatened to escape, she leaned forward, propping herself up on her elbows between his splayed thighs. Licking her lips, she checked to make sure he was still asleep before blowing softly across his balls and still semi hard cock.


Spike twitched and muttered in his sleep but didn’t wake. And as Buffy had hoped, his cock unlike its slumbering owner was quick to get the message. Even as she blew on it a second time; this time in a steady warm exhalation, it swelled and stretched until it lay hard and quivering against his belly.


Buffy squirmed; she had never really looked at Spike’s penis this closely before. Oh sure she’d touched it, and on the rare occasion she’d even sucked it. However, before it had always been about her power over him, her need to shut him up, and her last resort at gaining control.


That year she’d come back, the year of their affair. She had done her best to punish both herself and Spike every time they’d come together. Lost and rudderless in a world that was too harsh and bright, she had sought the darkness the only way she could. She gave her body to a monster, a monster that made her feel alive in a way no one else had ever come close.

The girl inside the slayer had wanted to drown in the forgetfulness that his touch brought, but the slayer that had finally found rest only to have it ripped away, couldn’t forget what he was.

Now studying the body spread out before her Buffy wondered how she had ever thought that he was beneath her.


He was perfection, from the tips of his bleached blond head, down to the feet he used so well in battle. His body, even back then, had been a temptation that she couldn’t resist, no matter how fierce her loathing afterwards. However, it was her recognition of his inner strength and loyalty that had really frightened her.

Soulless evil Spike had kept his promise to a dead woman.

He’d watched over and protected Dawn, fought alongside people that had treated him at best like a convenient tool, and at other times more like the enemy he once was.

His promise alone, had kept him bound to a place that offered him nothing but harsh memories of her rejection and loathing. Love for a woman, one that had made her disgust for his feelings more than clear, had tethered him to a girl who once upon a time he would have destroyed, if only for the pain it would have caused.

He’d given her his strength when she returned, tried desperately to be her friend and when she was unable to accept either… his body to do with as she wished.


His words when he’d tied up Drusilla and herself, prophetic in a way that not even Dru with her sight could have guessed. Drowning in her, he’d said… oh yeah he’d drowned alright. Lost in a sea of passion, the waves of her contempt and self-loathing very nearly drowned both of them.


Of course, in the end it was she, the mighty slayer, which had fled the relationship. Like a rat, fleeing from a sinking ship she had used the first rocky collision as an excuse to jump overboard.


She snorted derisively. Way to go with the maritime metaphor’s there Buff.

Rolling her eyes at her thoughts, Buffy shook herself out of her introspection, once again turning her attention back to her lover, and what he had more than once, crudely referred to as his dangly bits.

Hmm nothing dangly about this, she reflected slyly.


Moving forward and placing a soft kiss at the base of his erection, she resisted the sudden greedy hunger that had her mouth watering in anticipation. Eyes carefully trained on his face she used her hand to tilt him forward. Her mouth traveling up his length, she placed open mouth kisses along his shaft until she reached the weeping head.

Gaze still locked on his face, she rose up on both knees and as gently as possible enveloped the thick head of his cock with her mouth.

Even with as quiet as she was trying to be, she couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped as the taste that was uniquely Spike flooded her mouth. Relaxing her throat muscles, she slowly drew him deeper, the head of his cock butting up against the very back of her throat. When she had him in as deep as she could get him and her gag reflex firmly under control, Buffy bore down and started to swallow.



Spike was having the most incredible, and at the same time what had to be the strangest dream of his very long existence.

A warm mouth surrounded his achingly hard erection, while at the same time he could feel himself moaning in pleasure as he swallowed around the hard length that was nudging the back of his throat. The feeling of being squeezed and stroked, fighting with his visceral desire to taste the spendings of the one he was pleasuring.

He felt both his hips begin to move in the timeless rhythm of the ages and the fierce jolt of desire when the cock he was sucking started to meet each downward stroke of his head. The taste of precum in his mouth pushing him closer to release, even as the increased pace of the mouth around his dick made his eyes roll back in his head.


Seconds later Spike woke with a low snarl. Hips thrusting upwards he lost all sense of self, as he came hard. The sensations of cum filling his mouth as he swallowed, warring with his need to keep thrusting into the warmth surrounding him.

Eyes flying open he took in the wondrous sight of Buffy perched between his legs. The expression of bliss on her face as she swallowed his cock had him teetering on the bridge of a second orgasm even as she’d barely finished drinking down the results of the first.


The feeling that he now recognized as the link caused by the claim washed over him again and Spike roared in satisfaction as he felt the sensation of his own cum flood his mouth for a second time.



Buffy was unprepared for the feelings that inundated her body as their link reconnected.

One minute she was enjoying the sensation and taste of her lover and the next minute she was awash in a type of ecstasy no woman had ever experienced.


She knew on some level that it was Spike’s passion that she was experiencing, but she’d never imagined that a simple head job would feel so good. The heat and tightness of throat muscles gripping her hard, the wet slide of tongue and the scrape of teeth across sensitive flesh… and the tight hot feeling of tension low down in what she realized must be his balls. God, it felt like her soul was trying to escape her body.

The moment she felt him/herself begin to cum, Buffy was caught in a feedback loop of enjoyment so intense she very nearly blacked out.



Their orgasm seemed to go on for hours. Beyond thought, both were immersed under a tsunami of pleasure so exquisite they lost all sense of themselves as individuals.
Sight, taste, touch all of it shared, until neither vampire nor slayer knew where one began and the other left off.


Ecstasy, unlike anything they could have imagined, dissolved the last of the barriers between them. And in that moment of perfection, they found nirvana and a sense of belonging so deep that the only word that fit was… home.



Floating back to awareness minutes later, Spike forgot for a moment he didn’t need to breathe. Sucking in great gulps of air it took him another moment to understand that his reaction was Buffy’s and not his own.


Though the intensity of their connection had faded it didn’t take him long to realize that the link between them was still very much in effect. And it took him even less time to understand that what they had just experienced was a hell of a lot stronger than just a mating claim.


Bleedin Hell, what the fuck was that all about?


Shaking his head as though to clear it, he looked down and studied the woman draped across his thighs.



Buffy moaned, her head was still spinning, probably because she, unlike Spike, still needed to breathe. For a moment there, she had actually forgotten.


Whoa… that was intense. What the hell just happened here?


Looking up hazel eyes met blue, both pair confused and vaguely questioning.


“Well pet, that was interestin’. Don’t think I’ve ever had a head job quite like that.” He grinned when she rolled her eyes only to flinch a moment later when she turned her head and bit the inside of his thigh.


“Oi” he yelped, “what was that for”.


“Cos, you’re a pig.” She offered fondly with a smile.


“Oink, oink, baby. You know you love it when I talk dirty, slayer.” came the smug reply; even as his hand moved to cup her cheek with a tenderness belied by the teasing words.



Buffy took a moment to revel in the sensation of his touch; turning her head, she placed a soft kiss on the palm of his hand before reluctantly pushing herself up into a sitting position.

Brow knitted in thought she met her lovers clear blue eyes.

At his questioning look, she sighed heavily.


“As much as I’d like to just lie here and bask for a decade or so, I think we need to talk about what just happened here?”


He quirked a brow “S’pect you’re right about that luv, just give me a minute to make sure I’m not dreamin’.” He offered, tone teasing.



Despite the lightness of his words, Buffy caught his flicker of worry through the link, and it reminded her that even though they were mated it would probably be good if she actually did the verbal thing.

He had to know how she felt, but she was guessing that there was still a small part of him, that was waiting for the other shoe to drop.


Smiling softly she reached forward and pressed her lips to his. When his mouth opened under hers, she sighed with relief and deepened the kiss.


It wasn’t until she felt that strange feeling of doubling from earlier that she remembered why they still needed to talk.

Pulling back reluctantly she waited for his eyes to open before speaking.


“Spike… are you with me honey?” She asked doubtfully. The dazed look on his face made her want to giggle but she didn’t think laughing at him would be conducive to the mood she was trying to set.



“Huh… what?” he replied vaguely, his eyes still a little unfocused.



Oops, Thought Buffy. I think I broke him. Wow… note to self. Kissing equals blissed out vampire. All those times I couldn’t get him to shut up… who knew? Hey, I wonder if that would work on all vampires?


The sound of low growling directed her attention back to the object of her original thoughts and this time Buffy couldn’t help but giggle at the jealous and annoyed expression on his face.


“Hey, guess you caught that, huh?” she said, her deliberately sheepish expression not enough to hide the amusement in her eyes.



Spike glared, and with a low snarl that had her body tightening in all the right places, he yanked her up and into his arms. Less than a second later she was flat on her back, with a very aroused vampire kissing her like there was no tomorrow.



Oh well, talking is highly overrated. She decided, closely followed by the even more muddled thought. Kissing good… vampire yummy… talk later. Much, much, later.



And that was the last conscious thought that either of them had, as once again their world narrowed down until all that was left was the passion and joy they found in each other.



************



Ever since he’d met the Immortal, Andrew had felt like he was living in a dream. The power he’d had at his fingertips, beyond anything he’d dreamt of back in Sunnydale, and the sheer bliss of being the one in control was more seductive than he could have imagined.



Fooling the almighty Scoobie’s and people in Angel’s little group had seemed a small price to pay for what the Immortal was offering him. And when he’d gotten over his fear that Willow would somehow catch on to what he was doing it had given him a sense of worth that he’d never felt in his whole life.

Always the nerd always the outcast, never wanted or needed just for himself, Andrew had been swept away by the seduction of the Immortals promises. But now looking into the cold eyes of the only person that had ever liked him, Andrew felt despair flood him.


He really hadn’t meant to hurt Dawn. She and Anya had been the only two that were ever kind to him. The others had all treated him at best like an annoyance, and in Buffy’s case, like something unpleasant she’d stepped in.


Spike had either tolerated or ignored him but then Spike treated everyone pretty much the same so Andrew hadn’t let that bother him too much. And as for Willow… well Willow had killed Warren, and Andrew had worshiped Warren.

And it wasn’t like he was stupid, he knew what Warren thought of him, he just didn’t care. Warren was the first person to see Andrew, the first to recognize that there was more to him than just being Tucker’s nerdy little brother. And for that alone Andrew had loved him.



After Warren had died he wanted nothing more than to get revenge on Willow and the others, but when the First had gotten him to kill the only friend he had left Andrew quickly realized that the only way he was going to stay alive was with the Scoobies help.

So he’d put all thoughts of revenge out of his head, and thrown his lot in with the good guys, hoping that if he worked hard enough he might just find a place where he was accepted for himself.


He’d tried so hard back in Sunnydale to be good, to be liked, to be seen as something more than the pathetic loser that had killed his best friend. But no matter what he did or how hard he tried he was still Andrew the killer, Andrew the looser. The guy that nobody even bothered to hate.

Then Giles had sent him to Rome and he’d fallen in love for the first time.


Lonely, depressed and more than a bit resentful he’d gone to a club in one of the ritzier areas. He knew that the mission he’d been sent on was mostly bogus, that Giles had only sent him to get him out of the way. Still, he’d been determined to do his best so he could show the others that he wasn’t the total waste of space that they thought he was.



The mission was simple, he was to locate and observe a being known only as the Immortal. Giles had stressed the fact that he was at no time to engage or interact with his target in any way. That his job was to simply gather intel in the safest possible manner.



Andrew being Andrew decided that he would take a leaf out of the immortal Mr Bond’s book, and proceeded accordingly.


Council credit card clutched in his sweaty palm, Mr Wells; late of London, sought out the finest Italian tailors, shoemakers, and auto dealership. Armed with the patina of affluence he then proceeded to put his master plan into effect.



When he arrived at Club Immortale it was in the carefully prepared guise of the rich playboy jetsetter Andy Wells. Posing as the only son of a rich Californian movie producer, who had come to Rome for nothing more than a very good time, Andrew had thrown himself into the part with a vengeance.


After ordering several bottles of the most expensive champagne which he generously shared with some of the clubs more predatory females he was, as planned, invited up to the private booth of the clubs owner. The Immortal.



Less than thirty minutes after first sitting down his cover was blown, ten minutes after that… well, his cover was not the only thing that got blown.


A day later found Andrew Wells in bed with the Immortal, literally as well as metaphorically. By the time a week had passed, he was fucked in every sense of the word.



In love and desperate to please his lover, Andrew readily agreed to everything his new love asked. It had been ridiculously easy for the Immortal to get him to agree to bespell the Scoobies and the LA crew. All it had taken was the promise of eternity in the arms of someone who loved him. Of course, being the recipient of hundreds of year’s worth of sexual experience hadn’t hurt either.


The immortal had instantly sensed the darkness in Andrew and acted accordingly. Secure in the knowledge of Andrew’s allegiance he had then introduced Andrew to his sister, Illona Costi Bianci, head honcho of none other than Wolfram and Hart.

What Warren had started so long ago was easily finished as Andrew gave up the last spark of his humanity to the minions of the first and greatest evil.


Wrapped up in the passion and love that comes with ones first experience he didn’t care what his lovers plans would do to Dawn or her sister. Blinded by love and the promise of power Andrew had been happy to do whatever was asked of him regardless of the consequences.



Now as Dawn stepped into the cage, carefully locking the door behind her Andrew had a very clear memory of someone once telling him that consequences were a lot like a flock of birds, both always came home to roost.





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